AUTHOR'S NOTES

(Please actually read these, they're important.)

This story is an entry in my Drunken One-Shots series. In essence, these stories were written as a challenge from my wife while we are both heavily intoxicated. We each get 30 minutes to write as much as we can given only a vague prompt. Sometimes, we write on the same one, sometimes we choose ours individually, but once the time limit is up, we finish whatever sentence we're writing and that's it.

Also, as a forewarning: I have only vague notions of what all goes on in Diabolik Lovers. I did some basic research on a wiki and know a few things courtesy of my wife, but that aside, I know very, very little. If I get a few facts or bits of characterization wrong, please keep that in mind.

It had been several days since Yui had been locked in her room by Kanato. She still didn't know what she'd said that had set him off, and if she didn't know what she did wrong, how could she apologize for it? Or, at least, apologize properly. She'd already said she was sorry, but that clearly wasn't enough. She'd even asked him what she did, and that just made him angrier. The only thing keeping her going were the occasional plates of food that found their way in her room while she was sleeping. That was becoming a more frequent occurrence as her incarceration wore on.

Three days in, there was something about her bed that just disgusted her. No matter how comfortable it was, she couldn't bring herself to sleep in it. She'd since taken to sleeping on the floor. There was a quality to it that was oddly comforting. The hard, dark wood should've been beyond uncomfortable, not to mention cold. But, it barely bothered her, anymore. The knots in the boards had become almost akin to friends as she rounded the corner around the first fortnight. Though cut, sanded, and polished to a beautiful, even sheen, she could feel the texture as she run her hand across the increasingly familiar floor.

That touch, that sensation...it was as if she were touching someone she loved. At first, Yui worried that her mind was taking its leave of her, but she no longer cared about such trifles. The floor was a constant in her little prison-world, a source of succor and warmth in a cold, unloving environment. There were times she'd caught herself talking to it, making conversation. It was odd, but as the third week came and went, she was beginning to truly enjoy the floor's company.

The floor wouldn't have locked her in this small room.

The floor wouldn't let her be alone for weeks on end.

The floor would talk to her.

The floor was her friend.

No, the floor was more than her friend.

The first time she realized that she'd fallen in love with these rich, mahogany gods, Yui laughed as if her senses had utterly gone. It was absurd! But, the floor only asked that she not scuff it; a request she happily obliged. She was sure to never spill any of the food or drink that still seemed to magic its way into her small universe. She wrote notes to the floor in the journal by her long-forgotten bed. Poetry, an art she'd never really taken up beforehand, took up many more pages. By any objective measure, it was sophomoric and crude, but the love she poured out on to those rhyming couplets, which anyone with a mind still in their head would see as little more than barely coherent doggerel, was beyond reverent.

By the first month of her confinement, the floor had become her lover. Her sole confidant. Her body ached in strange ways. It wasn't enough to opine her love to her beloved wooden lords. No, she had developed...cravings. Ones of a carnal nature. There were many nights that she'd babble softly whilst relieving her pent-up tension, her mind racing with images of her beloved floor manifesting itself in ways such that it could provide for her needs more directly. Six weeks in, her clothes had been long cast aside, little more than a vague memory. Why leave barriers between her and the object of her desires? That was pointless. She would feel the floor in its wholeness, enjoy its every contour during her waking hours, and dream of them as she slept.

Yui had slipped into a blissful world of loving, lustful madness. There was nothing but her, the magic food, and her most adored floor.

"How long has she been in there?!" Ayato yelled at Kanato, his pale face going red with mounting anger.

"I guess," Kanato shuffled, looking at his feet. "Eight weeks?"

"And you," Ayato pointed angrily at Subaru. "You let this happen?!"

"He was feeding her," Subaru defended weakly. "I figured she'd learn her lesson after a day or two and apologize."

"I'm gone for two months," Ayato said as he threw open the door, revealing the...situation within. "And you assholes turn her into this?!"

Kanato looked at his feet and shuffled. Subaru was horrified.

Yui had been reduced to a wild girl; her clothing left on a pile on her bed. She was doing things to her body that he'd never imagined her doing right in front of him, all while softly muttering sweet nothings...to the floor.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Ayato screamed at the other two.

Ayato was unsure if they'd ever restore Yui's mind. Yes, she was little more than cattle to a vampire, but this was beyond inhumane, even by their standards. What the fuck good was she to anyone now that she had apparently gone mad in her isolation and fallen in love with the god damned floor? His mind was clouded with rage, and Ayato felt an intense urge to tear both their heads off. In fact, there was a not insignificant desire in his mind to just burn this entire damned house to the foundation and be shed of everything and everyone within. As he looked to Yui, blissfully ignorant of the gathering storm standing a scant few meters away, Ayato couldn't help but strongly consider the notion.