AN: So this is pretty late. Let's just say... a million things went wrong. And a sizable portion of this is very new territory for me.

Day 33

There was darkness everywhere. Setsuna couldn't even see her hands when she looked down, and all of her senses seemed—muted, somehow. She twisted her head around, searching for a light source. The entirely black atmosphere made her want to panic. She needed to find light before—

Something. Something bad.

What though?

Her eyes found blazing white feathers falling under her feet. She stared at them for a moment, watching as the unrelenting darkness infested them. It looked less black around the feathers. Almost red.

She leaned down and tried to grab the feathers, but her body refused to cooperate. Her head started turning again until she was looking straight at her wings. The darkness was also taking over their odd glow, and it was definitely red now. She tried to jerk her head away. She didn't want to look at the—

It was blood, wasn't it?

That reminded her of—

Who?

The name flitted through her mind briefly before something else distracted her.

Excruciating pain flashed through her back, and she tripped forward on legs she couldn't properly feel. Gasping, she reached through the air and grabbed Yūnagi. Her sword was already unsheathed, making it easy to spin around and slash through whatever had attacked her.

Blood dripped all the way down to the hilt, smearing her invisible hand.

"That's the right attitude, Senpai."

Shock burst in Setsuna's chest, and she gazed at her attacker—now victim—in horror. The girl in front of her smiled, seemingly oblivious to the gaping wound soaking her dress. Setsuna could feel the blood dripping down her fingers. The girl gripped Yūnagi and slowly drove it through her chest. A drop of blood fell from her smiling lips.

Her spare hand fell to Setsuna's.

"That's," she whispered, "how you satisfy me. Won't you let me feel a little more, Setsuna-senpai?"

Setsuna could only watch, horrified, as the girl impaled herself further on the blade. They were only inches away now. She tried to open her mouth and tell her to stop, but moving any more felt beyond her strength.

"No," she barely managed to whisper.

The girl vanished, taking the blood and the sword and the feathers with her. Setsuna thought she could feel her wings disappear as well.

The darkness started to close in. She could feel it getting nearer and nearer, restricting—everything.

She could hear her breathing echoing against the walls forming around her.

They were too close.

Completely closing her off.

She was trapped and—

"You really might want to consider waking up now."

That was—the girl. She was—?

Setsuna's eyes snapped open, her heart racing and clothes soaked through with sweat. It took her a few gasping seconds to realize that she wasn't in an unknown abyss of darkness; she was lying on the floor of her room.

And her senses were back –she could actually feel her surroundings again.

The walls were gone. There was light again. She could breathe. She could feel the hum of the wards in the room.

But she could also feel a warm body on top of hers, pinning her to the floor.

She was still trapped.

She shoved Tsukuyomi off of her and rolled off of their bedding—no, just hers, what was she saying?— barely remembering to grab her sword as she stumbled over to the window and flung it open. Immediately, fresh, cool air made its way into the room, and Setsuna's heartbeat slowed to a healthier rate. She breathed in deeply, ignoring Tsukuyomi's voice and taking in all she could of the outside air.

It was comforting against her damp skin. And if she was contemplating jumping out the window to make sure she could still fly, that was no one's concern but her own.

A nightmare. That was all it was. Just another nightmare.

"And you're always accusing me of sleeping poorly."

Setsuna practically launched herself out of the window when she felt Tsukuyomi's arms looping around her neck. The desire to follow through on the impulse intensified when Tsukuyomi giggled directly into her ear, the warm breath feeling absurdly good against her chilled flesh.

"I haven't mentioned that recently," Setsuna said, trying to regain some sense of the equilibrium Tsukuyomi had so effectively disrupted. It got harder when Tsukuyomi pressed their bodies closer together, practically draping herself over Setsuna. Caught somewhere between panic and—more panic, Setsuna froze instead of immediately pushing her away.

"I can't really mind having you bothered," Tsukuyomi murmured, "but you are starting to make me wonder, Senpai. Just what is it that's gotten under your skin?"

Distracted briefly by the uncomfortable sensations assaulting her body with Tsukuyomi so close, Setsuna almost answered. Almost; she was just awake enough to know better. Regardless of how much Tsukuyomi deserved to know what was going on, Setsuna wasn't ready to deal with the consequences of telling her.

So instead of explaining things and making an awkward situation even more awkward, Setsuna ducked out of Tsukuyomi's arms stiffly and started walking backwards towards the bathroom.

"I think I'm going to take a shower."

Tsukuyomi was coming to the conclusion that Setsuna lived to complicate her life.

No, maybe that was unfair. Setsuna had many more uses than just that. She was warm, an exquisite swordsman, and in general had a very comforting presence. She was also very fun to tease.

However, none of that changed how incredibly uncooperative she was being at the moment. Tsukuyomi was at least somewhat used to Setsuna having unreasonable expectations of privacy, but at the moment she was lacking her usual tolerance for that quirk.

Truth be told, Tsukuyomi did mind having Setsuna bothered. Not enough to do anything besides asking the occasional question, and certainly not enough to keep her from appreciating her Senpai's delightful disquiet, but…

Coming to terms with the fact that she'd be leaving Setsuna's side as soon as she could manage was difficult enough without other concerns. And Setsuna's state of mind was definitely starting to be a concern. Tsukuyomi didn't want to leave when her Senpai was having difficulties.

She didn't want to leave Setsuna's side at all. Even if it was for blood and carnage and freedom—the very things she lived for. As wonderful as all of that was, Setsuna was—special.

Tsukuyomi looked sulkily out the window. She could already feel small shivers making their way up her body; her constant reminder that what she wanted with Setsuna was irrelevant at this point. She couldn't stay.

So!

Whatever was wrong with Setsuna needed to be dealt with now.

Tsukuyomi didn't have nearly enough self-control to keep the grin off her face.

Setsuna closed her eyes and leaned against the shower wall. Water ran in rivulets down her body, cleansing it of sweat. It was almost relaxing; she could feel her back itching with the urge to release and stretch her wings under the steady stream of water. She sighed and ran a hand through her soaked hair, hesitating a moment before giving in and spreading her wings out behind her.

Almost instantly, she felt some of the tension in her shoulders ebb away. She shivered. Her body felt surprisingly light without it.

The dreams had started a few days ago. Right after her brief questioning of Yue, her subconscious was quick to remind her. Setsuna ignored that. She knew why she was having them; she didn't need reminders.

But as easy as it was to see the problem occupying her every unconscious thought, figuring out a solution her mind and conscience could live with was much more complicated. She was starting to think it might be impossible.

If she left things the way they were, Tsukuyomi would suffer.

If she changed them, other people might suffer.

Her eyes fell to the small, barely noticeable line of abnormally soft feathers that marked her left wing almost all the way through. They were matched by the pale scar gouged into her shoulder. If she concentrated, she could still feel Tsukuyomi's sword tearing through her.

And still, night after night, she was sleeping with Tsukuyomi wrapped around her. Voluntarily.

Setsuna could feel the tension returning.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't tempted—incredibly tempted—to remove the Seal.

But—

Whatever else she might have thought was rudely interrupted by the bathroom door being flung open.

Before Setsuna could wrap her mind around the only possible, very bad reason for why anyone would be interrupting her shower and take appropriate action, the shower curtain was torn away.

It really was a shame, Tsukuyomi's unconscious brain informed her, that Setsuna responded so efficiently in situations where she had no time to think. While her Senpai was easy to shock, her reaction time meant that surprise attacks rarely had as much effect as they should.

What that meant right now was that Setsuna's instincts managed to preserve her modesty; her wings automatically wrapped themselves protectively over her chest before Tsukuyomi could even let go of the curtain.

If she was thinking at all, that would have disappointed her.

However, thinking when confronted with a naked, soaked Setsuna—who had her wings out and the marks Tsukuyomi left on her had never been so clear—wasn't something Tsukuyomi could quite manage. It had been such a long time since she'd seen Setsuna's beautiful wings; even longer since she'd seen all of her Senpai like this—

A feeling she mostly associated with battle was stealing her breath away as her eyes drank in the sight of her Senpai. Wanting beyond anything she'd ever felt before was building in her chest, made worse every second her body stayed frustratingly still instead of launching itself forward.

Eventually, though her eyes weren't quite through devouring the object of her desires, Tsukuyomi glanced up at Setsuna's face.

Setsuna tried to remember the last time she'd been this acutely embarrassed and uncomfortable.

Immediately, the near-(and so very, very inappropriate)mistake with Konoka leapt to her mind.

She did not like the parallels her subconscious was drawing.

She disliked her body's sudden onset of frozenness even more.

It wasn't, Setsuna reminded herself desperately, as if Tsukuyomi had never seen her—bare before. Not that that was at all a pleasant memory, but this wasn't something new. Even if it had never happened that was no excuse to lose her head and stare blankly at the blonde instead of forcibly removing her from the bathroom.

But—something about the way Tsukuyomi was looking at her—it—there was—

Setsuna didn't think it was healthy for her heart to be beating that fast.

She'd seen a shadow of that look at the start of their first duel in the Magical World. That expression on its own hadn't unsettled her much—at the time she was still reeling from seeing Tsukuyomi there at all.

There was also the fact that back then, Tsukuyomi just wanted to fight her. She was clearly unhealthily obsessed with the idea, but she still only wanted a fight.

This time, Tsukuyomi wanted her.

That—that—

Setsuna honestly had no idea how she was meant to respond to that. So when Tsukuyomi looked up, she was left staring blankly into the girl's eyes—which served to make the problem a thousand times worse because now she had an even clearer view of Tsukuyomi's expression.

And then there was a new problem, because an outlandish part of her couldn't help noticing that Tsukuyomi's eyes looked really pretty glazed over like that.

Panic, pure and simple, was written all over Setsuna's face. Some conscious thought returned to Tsukuyomi, and she found herself grinning. It would seem her dear Senpai was at a loss. She thought she liked that. As fun as it was to fight with Setsuna, seeing the older girl vulnerable was incredibly attractive.

She took a step forward, keeping her eyes on Setsuna's for the moment so she didn't completely lose herself to her lust. One day, yes, of course, definitely, absolutely, she'd allow herself that pleasure, but what little common sense she had dictated that now was better spent taking advantage of Setsuna's shock. Making her remember that she normally didn't stand for Tsukuyomi staring at her was a horrible idea.

Then her control cracked, and she looked back down, paying special attention to the line of discolored feathers in one of Setsuna's wings. Even without the more obvious accompanying scar, she would have known that this was the wing her sword cut through.

The thought left her throat painfully dry.

Knowing that Setsuna's blood had been all over those soft, soft feathers thanks to handiwork—

Tsukuyomi couldn't help herself, and she didn't want to in the first place. She reached out and pressed her fingers against those feathers. She sunk her fingers into the softness as much as she could—longing to mark out how deeply she'd scarred her Senpai.

Setsuna's return to sanity was initiated by a beyond uncomfortable jolt of insanity. For a brief—very brief—so brief it couldn't even count as anything (Oh God)—moment, with Tsukuyomi's hand practically buried in the most sensitive part of her avian anatomy, an incredibly intense—reaction struck her, leaving her confused, mortified, and even more panicked than before.

And maybe there was just the slightest possibility that she felt something—more than that.

None of that stopped her from jumping several feet in the air and batting Tsukuyomi's hand away with her wing, face burning.

"Don't do that!" she yelped.

Tsukuyomi's eyes blazed. "They really are sensitive, aren't they, Setsuna-senpai?"

"No—they're just—I—" Setsuna searched the insides of her head hopelessly for something to say that had nothing to do with the wanton way Tsukuyomi was looking at her. The slight purr to her voice when she asked if Setsuna's wings were sensitive made that much harder than it should have been.

The water dripping down her back also wasn't helping.

Frustrated and embarrassed beyond belief, Setsuna turned the shower off viciously and tried—unsuccessfully—to glare at her roommate while she snatched up her towel and quickly retracted her wings so she could wrap it around her chest. It took an incredible amount of effort not to acknowledge Tsukuyomi's disappointed pout.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked sharply.

There was a reason. She could recall that much at least. Tsukuyomi flexed the fingers that had probed her Senpai's soft, delightfully warm, scarred wing. She had expected a chill to run through her when Setsuna jerked back, but instead a shudder of an entirely different nature wracked her body. Setsuna could try to hide it all she wanted, but her reaction proved it; her wings were beyond sensitive.

Tsukuyomi reluctantly pulled her eyes back to Setsuna's face, which was inconveniently far from the droplets of water sliding down her soaked chest. It was hard to focus on anything beyond the raw pleasure coursing through her veins, but somewhere under all the exciting, lustful thoughts Setsuna prompted in her—

There were more thoughts like that.

It was not fair, it was not fair, and it was simply not fair!

Tsukuyomi wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out and take every last bit of her Setsuna-senpai. At the very least, she wanted to have a knife in her hands so she could replace those drops of water with smears of blood. She wanted to be able to touch Setsuna without immediately being pushed away, and she wanted that now.

And Setsuna—Setsuna was being incredibly uncooperative and trying to ignore all of that and acting like everything was perfectly normal and she was only annoyed because of the invasion of her privacy.

Maybe Setsuna did live to complicate her life after all.

Tsukuyomi didn't want to at all, but she forced herself to think of something beyond what she wanted to do to—with?—Setsuna. Her reason for being here in the first place was coming back to her now. It wasn't anywhere near as satisfying as thinking about what she'd like to be doing to Setsuna, but it was important.

"I was wondering what's wrong with you."

Setsuna shot her an incredibly unhappy, incredulous look.

"What's wrong with me?"

"That's right. You never answered my question."

"What question?" Setsuna snapped.

"What is it that's gotten under your skin?"

"You said you didn't care!"

"I don't think I put it like that."

Setsuna's grip around her sword—when had she picked that up?—tightened to the point that Tsukuyomi was honestly surprised that the hilt didn't explode. Her eyes had the stirrings of dangerous colors in them, but it was hard to worry too much about that when her face was so incredibly red.

"You can't just barge in here because you're annoyed with me for not answering your question," she said tightly.

"It's not like that was my only reason." Tsukuyomi's eyes slid away from Setsuna's and drifted back down to gaze at the rest of the half-demon. The wet towel was doing very little to keep any of her body hidden. Her wings were better, and—

Not. Fair.

Unfortunately, Tsukuyomi's perfectly understandable perusal of her greatest distraction was interrupted very abruptly. Her dearly embarrassed Senpai had apparently used up all her tolerance for being stared at. Setsuna's hand was around Tsukuyomi's arm in seconds, the contact sending delighted shivers of heat rippling through her.

"Out. Now."

With Tsukuyomi safely removed from the bathroom, Setsuna felt free to slump against the door and contemplate just how exactly the situation had spiraled out of her control so quickly. She hadn't felt so close to completely losing her temper with Tsukuyomi in a while.

Guiltily, she had to admit that at least part of that was because Tsukuyomi had decided to press the issue of her sleep problems instead of just letting it go. As embarrassing as having Tsukuyomi look at her like that was, the possibility of her being concerned about her was—worse.

Not that Tsukuyomi simply being too curious for her own good was an unreasonable assumption, but Setsuna was uncomfortably aware that Tsukuyomi would never stop ogling her just to get the answer to a question.

Setsuna hated the idea of Tsukuyomi caring what happened to her. Here she was, not even able to decide if she should relieve Tsukuyomi's pain or not, and Tsukuyomi…

"Senpai?"

Setsuna sighed. Of course not being in the same room wouldn't keep Tsukuyomi quiet for long.

"I don't want to talk about it, Tsukuyomi."

"Yes, you've made that very clear."

…She wasn't going to give up, was she?

"I was just thinking things through again." A small shudder went through the door. Setsuna didn't need her enhanced senses to know that Tsukuyomi was leaning against it. "This started the night after Negi-kun said we were friends."

Setsuna covered her eyes with her hand and wondered how much worse this morning could possibly get. "Tsukuyomi…"

"I'm just curious if that has anything to do with it," Tsukuyomi said brightly. "If it does, you shouldn't worry so much; I know we aren't friends."

Tsukuyomi came close to tripping over her feet when the door she was leaning against suddenly opened. Too much time without her ki to play with was making her sloppy. Or maybe it was just waking up in the middle of the night. She liked that option better.

Before she could reorient herself properly, her glasses were removed from her face with the barest touch of warmth glancing her skin. Tsukuyomi grimaced as her sight went completely blurry. "Is that really necessary, Setsuna-senpai? I like seeing."

Setsuna stayed silent for a long time after that.

Tsukuyomi shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Really, her Senpai was going to steal her glasses and then not say a word? She'd almost thought things were going to get interesting for a moment. Too bad… But maybe now she'd get her question answered.

"I don't hate you."

The simple, quiet statement was enough to shock Tsukuyomi into forgetting that she couldn't actually see the girl behind her. She spun around to stare at the blur holding her glasses hostage. She imagined Setsuna was looking very uncomfortable right now.

Tsukuyomi could relate. A little. Why couldn't her Senpai tell her these things before she prepared escape plans? It wouldn't make much difference in the end, but she might have had a few days of knowing there was at least some chance of Setsuna warming up to her without immediately thinking of what a shame it was that they couldn't spend more time together.

"Oh."

They stood there awkwardly for what felt like ages. Not seeing didn't help the time pass any faster. Tsukuyomi wondered if now was a good time to risk asking for the answer to her question again. Maybe Setsuna was starting to feel a bit silly having her morning complicated by her avoidance issues.

Then Setsuna sighed and pressed Tsukuyomi's glasses into her hand—carefully, without letting their hands touch—before sliding past her and walking towards the center of the room.

"Let's just—go back to bed."

After completing the complicated process of putting clean sleepwear on while keeping Tsukuyomi from staring at her, it was almost a relief to fall back into their bedding and let Tsukuyomi curl around her. Almost.

Altogether, Setsuna thought making her feelings slightly more clear to Tsukuyomi had done more harm than good. It felt dishonest to reassure the girl—sort of—while thinking through all the possible reasons not to give her the freedom of a slightly longer leash.

Tsukuyomi shifted in her sleep, bringing her head up to rest in the crook of Setsuna's neck.

She looked so peaceful while she slept now. All because—

All because…

Setsuna was always with Tsukuyomi.

If anything happened, she'd know. After so long without her power, Tsukuyomi probably wouldn't have the restraint to hold herself back to make a surprise attack. She'd act immediately. Setsuna wouldn't be able to miss that, and considering how long Tsukuyomi's training had been neglected, no psychotic rush would be enough for the girl to overpower her.

She could afford to ask Mana to watch Tsukuyomi whenever she wasn't available. Barely, but she could do it.

For various reasons, Setsuna was starting to feel more than vaguely uneasy.

Every second the Ouroboros Seal was on Tsukuyomi, the odds of her losing her patience and trying to remove it herself went up. She could kill herself.

Setsuna looked back down at the expression of utter contentment covering Tsukuyomi's face.

…Maybe Negi had a point after all.