A Promise She Keeps

Chapter 07 - Chapter 08 (END)

By : Tohka_Yatogami

...

Summary

To seal a Spirit, Shido must open their heart. Kurumi's heart though, was a fortress. One closed shut by a promise that she would give everything, except for her power. A night of passion however, starts them down an arduous path as Shido and Kurumi confront friend, family and enemy alike, and ultimately, discover what they mean to each other.

Chapter 07: A Promise She Keeps

Love. Much like change, love came in a multitude of forms. For some, it burned in an intense inferno of fiery passion. A huge outburst of emotion; full of grand declarations, of sudden, dramatic realisations, and heartfelt confessions in the pouring rain.

Yet for others, love, much like change, often acted in far more subtle, quiet ways. A flickering flame, burning low but bright; an exchanged glance here, a stolen touch there. Knowing smiles caught between mischievous eyes, and thoughtful considerations passed between lingering hands. Small, nuanced changes in behaviour. Individually, miniscule – a mere footnote to those observing. Together, meaningful; a tale of a thousand little quirks, all pointing to the same undeniable truth.

But the universe is a cruel one, and seldom was the occasion where a couple could live out such a rosy fantasy. The harsh reality of the world demanded that for the majority of people, love came down to one question: what were you willing to sacrifice for those you loved?

" Shido-san? Are you okay?"

Kurumi's voice. Shido would recognise it anywhere.

"Shido? Shido? Please, answer me!"

"Kurumi…" he called out. But it came out all wrong.

His voice was weak, and it hurt to even say her name.

Reality came back, and Shido awakened to a world filled with pain. He groaned, curling up instinctively. Opening his eyes, his vision was filled with the visage of a handsome man with charcoal grey hair.

"Welcome back, Mister Itsuka. I'm so glad you are able to join us again once more," Isaac Westcott smiled, pulling back. "I was afraid that you might have left us for good."

Ah. He remembered: Ellen had taken him from Kurumi, delivering him to DEM and Isaac Westcott's unique brand of hospitality.

Two men stood behind DEM's director. They were outfitted in all-black tactical gear, with mirrored visors and helmets masking every inch of humanity. Their garb was splattered with blood, most noticeably around their fists and boots – his blood, to be precise, from when they had pummelled his body into submission. Whoever Westcott surrounded himself with, they clearly had no qualm or quarrel harming a teenager.

"I hope you understand, that this is nothing personal," Westcott spoke, his words, tone, and smile at a severe dissonance to the scene before him. "But one of your companions has been a thorn in my side for far too long, and it is about time for her to be excised."

Shido had no doubts as to which Spirit the director was referring to.

"I'd die before I let you hurt her," Shido breathed.

Westcott exhaled deeply in contentment, as though everything was proceeding as he expected. "A bold statement, Shido Itsuka. But ultimately, incorrect. You will help me break Kurumi Tokisaki…"

Westcott nodded his head forward, and the men descended upon him once more, all fists and booted feet. A number of people wearing lab coats and wielding equipment of the most concerning kind followed closely behind them, stepping around Westcott as he watched on with a smile.

"...whether you willingly do so, or not."

Ellen Mira Mathers was many things: arrogant, egotistic, and a sore loser, but she was not stupid.

Moments before she rocketed out of the ruined warehouse, slots on her combat suit slid open, disgorging a rain of paper. The pieces in turn flashed into a cloud of snickering Nibelcol – a sacrificial rearguard, with the singular goal of preventing Kurumi from pursuing the wizard. It was a ruthless calculation, and ironically one that Kurumi herself once favoured, but it worked: Kurumi and her surviving clones had no choice but to annihilate the Nibelcol. By the time the last piece of paper fluttered to the ruined floor, shot through in a dozen different places, Ellen – and Shido – were long gone.

Kurumi took all of two steps forward, before the pain from her pounding head and aching body became too much, collapsing on the ground.

"Me !" Clones swarmed over her in alarm, and more were joining them, climbing out of shadows that bubbled and waxed and waned.

"Forget me!" Kurumi said, swatting away identical hands. "Find Shido-san! Get him back, no matter the cost!"

The words had barely finished leaving Kurumi's mouth when the clones began dispersing back through the shadows. Clones they may be, but they had their own concerns for Shido, and the urgency of the prime Kurumi only fed into their actions.

That night, there were many disturbances and reports made across Tengu City, all with a central theme: the shadows were behaving unnaturally, spreading out across the ground like long, spindly fingers grasping for straws. Of course, no such proof could be brought to substantiate such claims: the phenomenon stopped as soon as an observer took a second look, or it occurred at the very corner of one's vision; some simply rubbed their eyes, and seeing what they wanted to see, put the matter to heed and moved on with their lives. Reports that were lodged were summarily dismissed as the product of overactive late-night imaginations.

At present however, Kurumi was no closer to finding Shido. Every second that passed felt like a minute, as her mind whirled and spiralled. Shido was gone. A tangible sense of discomfort settled in her stomach, as Kurumi tried to push past the fog of worry and nausea and pain to try and figure something – anything – out.

"Me," one of her clones called out. A welcome distraction, and Kurumi forced herself out of her daze to look at the clone. Like the others, and much like Kurumi herself, there was a look of worry and concern on the clone's face. But importantly, she was holding out a phone. Shido's phone. Kurumi gingerly took it from the clone, as if touch alone would make things even more real.

The screen and casing was cracked from where it had fallen, but the sturdy little thing was still working; importantly, and disconcertingly, it still showed an open connection with Kotori.

"Kotori-san?" Kurumi tentatively spoke into the phone.

"Kurumi," Kotori's voice growled back. "Don't even think of running away ."

Before the phone hung up, Kotori's last shouts came through.

"Someone grab Nia and get her into a medical realiser! We need her to block Beelzebub as soon as possible!"

Kotori's tinny voice was soon replaced by a series of beeps – but before they even finished ringing, there was a flash of green light, bright enough to force Kurumi to shield her eyes. A wave of displaced air washed over her – followed by her skin prickling from the waves of violent reiryorku. By the time the light faded, Kotori stood with her in that ruined warehouse, fists clenched, and Kurumi didn't need her senses as a Spirit to know just how angry the other girl was.

"Kotori-san," Kurumi began.

She didn't finish her sentence, as Kotori stormed up and swung a fist at her face.

Kurumi was a capable fighter. With her skills with a firearm, unerringly lethal instincts, and a wide array of powers that traversed the gamut of everything one could ever wish to do with time itself, Kurumi was more than capable of standing up against even the best fighters amongst the Spirits. It spoke volumes then, that the speed and force behind Kotori's small fist connecting against her chin was enough to take her by surprise and floor her.

For a moment, the whole world paused. Kurumi sat up from where she had been knocked flat; she gingerly worked her jaw a few times, testing the muscles and making sure nothing was broken before looking up – and froze.

Fire. So much crackling fire. And in the middle of it all, stood Kotori. Her Astral Dress was summoned, clothing morphing into a kimono, the fabrics of which were immune to the searing heat. The fires behind her matched the ones burning in her eyes, as a titanic halberd formed in her hands.

Efreet. The fire demon.

Familiar memories, painful memories, wormed their way up.

Gunshots, deafening and powerful. The familiar weight of a pistol in hand.

Triumph and elation. Another success.

Realisation. The curtain fell from her eyes.

Sorrow.

Anger.

Sawa.

…

No. Stop.

Kurumi cut the memories off before she could sink any further.

Focus. Shido is depending on you.

Yes. Shido's life hung in the balance, and she needed to be focused to avoid another repeat of this wretched cycle. Those memories could not have their hold on her any longer.

Kurumi forced herself up, pushing the painful memories away. There was a bright flash as she did, and two more Spirits teleported into the ruined warehouse: one with school uniform sparingly covered by plates of heavy purple armour, hefting a massive broadsword as long as she was tall; and another in a thin dress as white as snow, a series of golden rods orbiting serenely around her.

Tohka and Origami. Kurumi could feel her clones spreading out behind her, weapons raised in wary preparation, but not a single one fired. It was not a situation likely to hold for much longer, as Kotori advanced on Kurumi.

"Kotori-san. I will allow what you did to pass, as I understand how you must be feeling right now," Kurumi said, still pressing a hand to her jaw. "But do not strike me again. I am not your enemy, not now: Shido-san was taken by DEM."

The mention of Shido's name gave Kotori a pause; the fires behind her disappeared, but her eyes still burned with anger. "I trusted you," Kotori growled through gritted teeth. "I should have never let him go with you!"

Kurumi's clones tightened their fingers over the triggers of their weapons as Kotori spoke; a proverbial spark would be enough for the tension to ignite in a decidedly destructive manner. Kurumi herself surged forward, angered – that the anger was entirely driven by the implication that Shido didn't matter to her, did not register with her.

"I protected him," Kurumi said. "Where were you when DEM attacked? Where were you while I fought off the Nibelcol and that loathsome wizard? Be thankful that I'm even trying to help you to bring Shido-san back."

"Thank you?" Kotori repeated, incredulous. "You have some nerve to ask that! What's going to stop you from just taking him for yourself? Give me a reason why I should believe anything that you say!"

"We have fought for him. My clones have died for him. Is that reason enough? Or do you need two hundred and four more?" Kurumi's eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward. "Do you know how much I have sacrificed to keep him alive?"

"It's because you need him! Don't pretend to be so selfless, as if you were giving up everything for his sake!" Kotori's voice rose sharply as she continued.

"Look at what you did to him: he wanted to see you so badly, that he wouldn't take no for an answer. He talked to me, argued with me, pleaded with me, to let him go and find you. He was out here with you instead of being with us when DEM attacked. And when it mattered the most – you weren't able to protect him." Kotori finished on a quieter note, but her words and tone were no less barbed.

Kurumi was silent. Her gaze had fallen to the floor, and she could all but feel the accusatory glares of the other Spirits.

Before Kotori could say anything, she was interrupted – by Tokha of all people. No longer wielding her sword, she marched up to Kurumi, stepping around Kotori who looked shocked at the sudden interruption. Kotori was stunned for a moment, before being spurred into action, reaching out for Tohka's arm.

"Tohka, wait! Don't talk to Kurumi – it might be better for you to go back to the Fraxinus until we can figure something out-"

Tohka ignored her, steadfast. Looking into Tohka's eyes, Kurumi could see the distress, fear, and worry etched within them, but the girl was holding herself together admirably.

"Kurumi Tokisaki! Is Shido special to you?" she demanded.

"I beg your pardon, Tohka-san?"

"Shido talked to me before. He told me about sex and how it means something special for the people doing it," Tohka said, ignoring the sudden spurts of protest from Kotori, and the blush and far-off gaze that settled into Origami's eyes. "But even if you did it, he wasn't sure if what you two did meant anything."

Show me your truth.

That was what Kurumi had said to Shido before their latest date. Before he had all but confessed. It stung, even shamed her a little, that she wasn't sure how she would respond. But knowing that Shido had even doubted what they were to each other – intentionally on her part or otherwise – caused a small pit to form in Kurumi's stomach.

"If you had sex with him, then you must care for him!" Tohka seemed even more flustered and jumbled as she spoke, but there was a passion and determination to continue. "You have to help us find him, please! Shido-san is important to me too, and I don't want to lose him!"

Was Shido important to her?

Yes , that small, traitorous part of her heart whispered. The part that Kurumi had been doing her very best to ignore for the longest time.

When Kurumi looked at Tohka, at her pleading face, she was struck by the memories from when the other Spirit had been kidnapped by DEM. When Shido and herself had first worked together. When he had been so single-minded in his determination to rescue her. She had found it amusing at the time, and she was curious to test the mettle of the boy. But as time passed, even as Tohka was saved and they went their own ways, a niggling question never left the back of her mind: would he have done the same for you?

Hearing the lengths that Shido had gone to in order to talk to her, there was no doubt of the answer in Kurumi's mind. That alone galvanised her into action.

"Kotori-san, Tohka-san, Origami-san," Kurumi straightened up, and gave a quick curtsy as she spoke. "It has been pleasant, but I must bid you farewell now. I have work to do."

She turned to leave, the shadows beneath her warping and growing.

"Kurumi wait!"

Tohka's shout gave Kurumi pause. She turned around, looking back at Tohka, even as her shadow continued to gurgle and twist. "Yes, Tohka-san?"

"Let me come with you!" Tohka's voice was edged with eagerness and desperation. "I want to help you find Shido too!"

Kurumi shook her head.

"You are too precious, Tohka-san. Unfortunately, I must refuse your offer. I will find and bring Shido-san back myself."

"Why?" Despite the gravity of the situation, Tohka reminded Kurumi of a child questioning why they had been inexplicably being denied something they desired.

Kurumi couldn't help a laugh. But this time, it was a bone-chilling giggle that raised the hairs on the back of all three Spirits who heard her.

"Because, Tohka-san," Kurumi flashed her an unsettling grin. "What I am about to do is not something I would expose your innocent self to. I am, after all, a very bad girl – and it is time to remind DEM just how bad I can be."

Kurumi began to sink into the shadows again. At the last minute, when it was just her upper half remaining in the real world, she twisted to face Kotori, who stared at her with a mix of anger and disgust.

"You are wrong about one thing, Kotori-san," Kurumi called out. "Shido-san still remains under my protection. I will bring him back – and that's a promise."

Kurumi was agitated.

She had called for a gathering of the clones. Not an unusual occurrence in and of itself: but this was the second time within an hour that she had done so. She paced back and forth across the dilapidated room, in yet another one of her safehouses, as her clones started appearing through the walls and floor.

"Have we found anything?" Kurumi demanded, even before the clones had finished pulling themselves out of the shadows.

The clones halted, glancing amongst themselves while trying not to meet Kurumi's glare.

"Well?" Kurumi's tone rose, reflecting the fury building up within her.

One of the clones cleared her throat and stepped forward, resigned to be the sacrificial lamb to Kurumi's wrath. " We have nothing to report since the last time we met, me . There are still no signs of Shido-san, in spite of our efforts."

There was a terrifying moment when Kurumi loomed over the clone; achieving this, despite the two of them being of identical height. But she pulled back at the last moment, fist clenched.

"Double our efforts," Kurumi snapped at the clones, turning back and starting to pace back and forth. "I want Shido-san found!"

The clones nodded, and most of them disappeared back into the shadows, continuing their hunt for Shido. A hunt, which in Kurumi's opinion, was taking far too long.

Kurumi was a patient person. She had been gathering miniscule amounts of time for a long, long while, to go back in time to prevent the Spirit of Origin from coming to be. An almost insurmountable task, given the sheer amount of time required to go back thirty years, but Kurumi never faltered. One didn't accomplish as much as she did without patience, and time had always been on Kurumi's side.

Until now, that was. With Shido in DEM's clutches, it was only a matter of time before their endless cruelty and creativity would be used against her and the other Spirits.

"Me," one of her clones called out.

Kurumi barely bothered to show her distaste for the clone which had spoken up – unsurprisingly, it was the one in the gothic lolita outfit – but she was surrounded by a number of other clones as well.

"Vav is not the only bullet capable of sending us back in time….are we not capable of using Yud Bet to change what happened?" the clone proposed.

Kurumi was quiet for a moment. "No. It is too risky. Our previous experiments with Yud Bet have not gone as I planned. We have accidentally created our present by trying to change the past before, when we acquiesced to Origami-san's demand to travel to the past to save her parents. Who is to say that by travelling back in time to avert this situation, we do not inadvertently create the same series of events that lead towards it occurring again?"

The clones fell quiet, absorbing the information. Kurumi's view on time travel had been soured as of late, and the mixed results of attempting to change the past had sown even greater doubt in her mind about the viability of her goal. But she had never voiced her opinion on the matter until now.

"Then, what is the plan, me?"

Shido's words, before they were interrupted, came to mind again. You're so focused on the past and trying to change it, that you can't even begin to see the potential future ahead of you.

For Kurumi, there was only one answer.

"We focus on the present. We cannot change what has happened, and wishes alone will not save Shido-san. We must find him, and bring him back."

As fate would have it though, Kurumi did not have to wait much longer.

"Me," an exhausted voice called out.

Dozens of identical heads swivelled to face the speaker.

A clone was pulling herself out of the shadows – in this case, quite literally: she used one arm to drag herself out, the other dangling uselessly by her side. It was not the only injury she had: numerous cuts and bruises marred her skin, and the imitation Astral Dress was torn and ruined with blood and dirt. The clone collapsed as soon as she was through.

"What happened?" Kurumi's brow furrowed as two other clones helped the newcomer up.

"Isaac Westcott has Shido-san." The clone went straight to the point. "He has a message for you: he's waiting in the Ikeshima district."

"That's the abandoned industrial complex," Kurumi frowned.

"It must be a trap," another clone said, to nods of agreement.

Trap or no trap, it was still the only lead that Kurumi had on Shido. And it was one that she could not afford to let go to waste.

"Yes, but what other choice do we have? For Shido-san's sake, we cannot afford to dally any longer," Kurumi said. "If Isaac Westcott has extended an invitation out to us, then it would be rude for us to decline. Let us show him a proper date then, shall we, me?"

The Ikeshima district was once the thriving industrial heart of the old city. As the reconstruction efforts after the great spacequake took place, the district grew rapidly as the demand for industrial output accelerated. Its downfall was just as swift, with technological advancements like realisers, capable of performing miraculous feats of engineering overnight, leading to the shuttering and subsequent abandonment of many factories and workshops. The rest of the city soon grew around it, and the district soon fell into disrepair and ignominy, relegated to memory, and only attracting urban explorers or those conducting business of questionable legality.

Or super-corporations with something to hide, Kurumi thought, as she made her way deeper into the district.

Her boots clopped against chipped and weathered pavement, grass and weeds snaking their way up through the cracks. She passed by empty storefronts and offices, the window panes that weren't already shattered dirty and streaked. Faded and dog-eared posters stuck to the walls, advertising unwanted leases, and creaking signs whispered the names of previous occupants.

Among the general sense of abandonment and dilapidation, one building stood out for its upkeep. There could be no mistaking it – that was where Shido was waiting.

As Kurumi stared up at the building, her shadow expanded beneath her feet. Five clones silently fanned out behind her.

Five clones barely meant anything to Kurumi, who was capable of bringing hundreds of them into battle. Quantity had a quality all of its own: confusion, misdirection, and distraction; she used every little bit of chaos that her multitude of clones were capable of creating to her advantage. Confused enemies made mistakes. Distracted enemies died. But sometimes, there was little substitute for quality fighters – and Kurumi needed every bit of that quality now.

Kurumi's clones were made in the image of a memory long passed. Brought to life by Zaphkiel's power, they tended to inherit the personality traits and knowledge that were dominant at the time. In most instances, the differences were trivial. At times, such as the case of her four heavenly kings or that annoyingly independent clone, the differences were starker. And on rare occasions, Zaphkiel birthed a clone who was decidedly more lethal. Born of the moments when Kurumi revelled in a fight: the savagery of it all, the spikes of adrenaline, the kick of a gun in her hand; the times when Kurumi was at her deadliest. For that reason alone, these five clones would be enough.

"Dear me…what have we here?" The first to break the silence was the clone immediately to her right. She had a lazy smirk on her beautiful face as she glanced up at the building, left hand on her hip. More than any other clone, this clone exuded an air of absolute confidence and anticipation of the battle and victory ahead.

"That's where Shido-san is being held?" Another clone, this time to her left, gave her a look. She rested the body of the musket against her shoulder, clutching the pistol in her other hand. There were no curious quirks associated with this particular clone, but she was a solid, dependable fighter, as reliable as they came.

"Do we have a plan, me?" The third asked, her arms folded and brow furrowed contemplatively. The survivor amongst her clones.

"Of course." It wasn't Kurumi who replied, but rather the first clone who spoke, ferocious in nature. Her voice was eager. "We kill them all."

"Ara, how exciting – I can't wait~" the fourth giggled. Even Kurumi was slightly wary of this clone. She relished in the ruthless savagery of battle, caring for little more than the thrill of the hunt and the breaking of bodies – even if it was her own.

The fifth clone shot them a sharp, disapproving glare before turning back to the building, musket held in a relaxed position with both hands as she observed the building; cataloging entrances, angles of attack, favourable exits; she was the cleverest of them all – a tactician through and through, seeing every angle and masterfully exploiting every opportunity to her own advantage.

Kurumi ignored the banter and headed for the building, her clones quietening down and falling in line until they reached the entrance. With minimal fanfare, Kurumi kicked the door in and stepped into the building.

A trio of guards greeted her.

Guards that were up-armoured with tactical gear: combat vests, helmets and mirrored goggles, rather than standard security guard uniforms. The first sign that she was in the right place.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be here-!"

The first guard who spoke died with the words in his mouth and a hole in his head.

"Holy shit, it's Nightmare! Get the alarm!" the second shouted, even as he dropped to a kneel, a gun rising to his shoulder.

He suffered the same fate as the first guard, the bullet from Kurumi's musket tearing through his armour like it was tissue paper. Her third shot narrowly missed, grazing the last guard's shoulder even as he dove behind the desk. He had just barely slapped the bright red button tucked underneath the table when a storm of bullets punched through the thin material. He died without a sound, even as the alarm blared into life.

"So much for surprise," the planner clone sighed.

Her battle-hungry clone giggled in response. "It's so much more fun this way though!"

"Enough," Kurumi ordered, sparing them a glance back. "Find Shido, and get him back. No matter the cost."

Even for an organisation as immense as DEM, with its vast resources and seemingly infinite wealth, limitations were had on its capabilities. This meant that frequently, decisions were made on a cost-efficiency basis. And sometimes, the cheapest resource was a human life.

After all, even a Bandersnatch, expendable by design, cost resources to manufacture, repair, and maintain. But the great quake thirty years ago had done more than kill a hundred and fifty million people in an instant; it displaced hundreds of millions more, collapsed governments in the ensuing unrest, and ignited a series of brush fire wars that tore across an entire continent.

For DEM, and many unscrupulous corporations more, the chaos provided an unimaginable opportunity to discreetly build their own private army. Hundreds of veterans of these brush fire wars were recruited, often with the lure of money, drugs, and violence. Such men and women would have barely passed the screening for a drivers licence in their home country, let alone an immigration check into Japan. But money and influence spoke louder than any policy, and DEM had plenty of both. The company had slowly but steadily amassed their own private security force of battle-hardened killers. Not wizards – just plain, savage, humans.

As soon as the alarm started blaring across the facility, and emergency lighting kicked in, bathing the interior with angry red light, muscular men and women streamed their way into arms rooms across the building, each bursting with surplus military hardware. Armoured vests and helmets were strapped on and tightened, pistols and knives slid into holsters and sheaths, and ammunition was distributed and loaded into rifles and submachine guns. Over the noise of armour and weapons being readied, a riot of different languages sneered, snarled, and snapped at each other. Catcalls were common, and more than one punch was thrown; the room a deafening tinderbox of volatile mercenaries, ready to combust with a single spark.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" a woman's voice bellowed from the entrance.

The room quietened. Instantly.

A DEM wizard stood at the entrance, her beautiful face twisted with disdain as she looked over the rabble in front of her. Despite being clad in a skintight suit that showed off all of her curves, with armour plating across her arms, shins, and shoulders, none of the mercenaries before her even attempted a catcall, on account of her terrifying gaze – and the laser rifle hefted in her hand. The only identifying insignia was a nameplate with 'Baker' stenciled on it. Two more wizards flanked her, scanning the platoon with dispassionate glances.

"The building is under assault, so get to your fucking positions, now!"

The mercenaries filed past her, suitably cowed, a semblance of professionalism at last coming to the fore. She turned and followed them as soon as the last man had left the room, her two subordinates on her heels.

"Remind me again why we're working with this trash?" one of the wizards with her remarked offhandedly, uncaring of whether the mercenaries ahead could hear them.

"We just got a report that Nightmare is attacking," the lead wizard replied. There was a sudden break in professionalism, as the other two wizards faltered upon hearing the codename. She glanced back, scowling. "We're going to need the cannon fodder."

A more apt description could not be had for the role the mercenaries played.

In spite of their equipment, and in spite of their superior numbers, they fared poorly in the firefights that broke out as Kurumi began her assault. They died by the dozen attempting to defend the building from Kurumi's attacks, unable to mount a serious defence against even her clones. Hunter-killer squads roaming the building soon became the hunted, twitching at movements in the order of their eyes, only to be engulfed by the very shadows themselves the moment they turned away. The ones who set up defensive positions at various chokepoints found themselves outgunned and swarmed from multiple directions, as Kurumi and her clones erupted from unexpected angles with guns blazing, turning once-defensible positions into slaughterhouses.

The same scenes repeated themselves through each floor and each firefight as Kurumi's assault intensified. It all pointed to a single story across the board: DEM's lines were rolling backwards, deeper into the building as the security forces were routed.

It was at one critical juncture that Baker found herself defending, at the orders of Adeptus One. Any further access to the building would require Nightmare to come down a long hallway and past this particular intersection of offices, filled with rows upon rows of inoffensive, pale-coloured desks and grey partitions. Their orders were clear: hold this junction at all costs. At her disposal was one remaining wizard, and a squad of mercenaries, callsign Dagger.

And then there were the Nibelcol. Identical girls in an approximation of a nun's habit drifted amongst the defenders, giggling for no apparent reason whatsoever. They appeared unarmed, and contributed little to the set up of the defensive line; quite the opposite, as a matter of fact: they flitted around, carefree, and poked the mercenaries at random for the fun of it; or they tumbled through the air slowly, allowing their short skirts to flap over and revealing everything underneath, while coquettishly darting away from any wandering hands; the Nibelcol seemingly did everything in their power to distract the men at the barricades. Every pair of eyes that stared at them was one less set watching the entrances, and Baker found herself spending more time disciplining and forcing some measure of order back into the men than shoring up their position, much to her displeasure.

A displeasure that was soon moot, as one of the Nibelcol suddenly collapsed with the crack of a gun.

The checkpoint exploded into a sudden frenzy of activity, as the mercenaries threw themselves behind office partitions or desks, anything they could find, even as the first bullet was followed up by another, and another. A smattering of bullets and explosives from the mercenaries answered back – inaccurate and ineffective panic fire for the most part, and their bullets did more damage to the furniture and walls than to their attacker.

The Nibelcol on the other hand, cared little for their deceased brethren or personal safety; instead throwing themselves down the hallway towards the attacker, eager for the prospect of a fight. A mistake, as the other defenders had to stop shooting when the Nibelcol became intermixed with Kurumi, for fear of friendly fire.

Not that it helped the Nibelcol any: they were annihilated wholesale by Kurumi, unable to mount any sort of meaningful resistance against the vengeful Spirit. Their squeals filled the corridor as they died, every death cry punctuated with the clap of Kurumi's guns.

In a few short moments, the battle was over, and the hallway fell silent. Smoke and dust from the explosives that the mercenaries launched obscured everything, leaving the defenders with no way to see any further. They waited with bated breath, tightening the grips on their weapons, and listening for the slightest sound. Jitters were common. The silence that pervaded the junction was deafening, and Baker had enough of waiting.

"Dagger, move up and check the bodies-" her words were cut off as the hallway exploded into a storm of gunfire.

Two of the mercenaries were caught in the open and died instantly. Their bodies were still collapsing to the ground when Kurumi appeared, guns raised and blasting away even as she slid smoothly behind a desk, avoiding a retaliatory barrage of return fire.

The mercenaries were at least proving to be a distraction, as Kurumi popped up and planted precise shots into the shooters between breaks in the gunfire. Baker used their deaths to run for a better position, head ducked low beneath the partitions, laser rifle tucked under her arm, even as the gunfire grew weaker.

The mercenaries wouldn't last long, Baker grimly realised. A suspicion that was confirmed when the other wizard hollered into their communication link.

"Fuck, Dagger's gone!" The panic in his voice was palpable, but Baker couldn't care less – she had finally reached her goal: a flanking position, behind a desk perpendicular to the red-and-black Spirit.

"Doesn't matter, I've flanked the bitch," she snarled. "On my command, fire: we'll get her together. Ready, go!"

She spun out of cover, rifle held snugly against her shoulder and aimed perfectly where that bitch of a Spirit was holed up, even as the other wizard opened up with a volley of firepower. It was a textbook flank, executed with perfection.

It was not enough.

There was a single gunshot, somehow carrying over the report of their rifles. The other wizard collapsed with a hole through his visor, weapon spraying up into the ceiling. A moment later, her shots tore through the empty space where Kurumi was a heartbeat ago. A clean miss.

By the time she realised that Kurumi had dropped down to the floor, below her line of fire, the Spirit's weapon was already aimed at her.

The pistol barked once more.

Kurumi picked herself up from the floor, brushing the grit and dust off her dress. She surveyed the room, eyes darting back and forth, taking in the destruction around her. What was once a mundane office had been transformed into a warzone: a series of small fires crackled behind her, the warmth radiating off her back; bullet holes pockmarked the walls and partitions, and the air reeked of gunpowder and burnt plastic. Most of the damage had been done by DEM's own troops as they unloaded fully automatic weaponry and explosives in a panic, a world apart from Kurumi's own precise shooting. It was amusing in a way, to see the panicked reactions of the DEM wizards and mercenaries as they realised just how outclassed they were. The sheer disparity between herself and wizards, let alone a normal human, was simply too great for any amount of technology to overcome, and the results were plain to see before her.

A pained groan came from the direction of the wizard who had flanked her. Kurumi scanned the room again, making sure there were no threats remaining, before stalking over to the downed wizard. For a moment, she simply stood over and observed her handiwork, ignoring the increasingly-creative and vulgar epithets the wizard spat at her.

As expected, her aim had been perfect: her shot had torn through the wizard's weapon, punched through any protective barriers she possessed, and struck her shoulder. The wizard was effectively out of the action, without weaponry or the means to operate them. Kurumi wasn't aware of the specifics of DEM's hierarchy, but the more ornate and advanced combat suit suggested that she was at least higher up in the hierarchy than the rank-and-file grunts she had been tearing through until now.

"Ara, that looks painful," Kurumi said, her voice saccharine sweet. "Would you like some help with that?"

"Go to hell," the wizard spat, glowering up at Kurumi as she held a shaking hand to the hole in her shoulder. "I'm not telling you anything."

"And that's where you're wrong." Kurumi knelt down and grabbed the wizard's hand, ignoring the feeble attempts to push her away as she stripped off the armoured glove to expose the hand underneath.

She pressed the bare skin of the wizard's palm against her cheek, much like how a lover would. In her other hand, she mimed holding a pistol, and spoke a single word.

"Zaphkiel."

Kurumi's angel responded, the shadows coalescing in her hands to form the pistol. She pressed the barrel against the wizard's hand, amused by the sudden panicked thrashing.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing you crazy bitch-"

"Yod."

Kurumi's progression deeper into the building was denoted by a marked architectural shift: the walls turned from bog-standard plastered office, into metallic fortress; all harsh lighting and cold steel plates. She was getting closer, and could feel it in her bones.

And at the end of the hall –

There.

A door, made out of a solid sheet of metal that looked impervious to passage – if not for the glowing green lock icon.

If the memories that she had stolen from the DEM officer were correct, then that was the door they were ordered to protect at all costs. Which meant that something valuable was hidden beyond. And the only thing valuable in this god-forsaken dump was Shido. She briefly considered making a more dramatic entrance, smashing the door down and sweeping in with guns raised, but then thought the better of it.

Westcott wanted to make a statement. Who was she then, to deny him that before she brutally murdered the bastard for everything Shido had gone through?

Still, preparations were to be made. If she was going to spring a trap that Westcott had prepared, then she wasn't going to do so without backup.

"Me."

The shadows gurgled in response. They seemingly swelled up on her side of the door, before settling down with a deathly sigh, returning to their natural state.

The door slid open at her approach and steeling herself, Kurumi stepped through.

It was a vast, expansive room, but the sheer number of containers and crates and overhanging machinery gave it a claustrophobic feel. Right now, Kurumi stood in a relatively clear area, alone. To her left, a series of small offices presided. To her right was a nightmarish maze of machinery, containers, and crates. Skeletal catwalks hung suspended from the ceiling. But the clearing held her attention, where the only other occupants of the room stood.

A man with ash-grey hair, wearing a smart business suit and a wide smirk, was flanked by two blonde women, both dressed in pristine combat realiser suits. And finally, held up by one of the women, Shido.

Westcott, with his ever-present guardians, Ellen and Artemisia. The trio responsible for everything Kurumi had gone through in the past week.

Fighting down the spike of anger and murderous intent, she stepped forward, outwardly calm and undeterred.

"Kurumi Tokisaki. Welcome." Westcott called out to her. For someone so reprehensibly evil, the man was surprisingly handsome and well-kept in his immaculate charcoal suit.

"I see you've gotten my message. Although I cannot say if it's the first time for you, still, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Word of your beauty does not do you justice," Westcott continued, still smiling.

"Isaac Westcott." Kurumi gave the director a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes.

A tingle ran through her body as she finished speaking, the hairs on her skin standing on edge as what felt like a faint electric field washed over Kurumi. She had experienced it enough times before to know what it was: a territory had just been established, blocking any chance of her escaping. A discreet flex of her ability to reach into that alternate dimension confirmed it – she could feel the shadows within the room, but nothing outside of it. Fortunately, escape hadn't been part of her plan in any case.

"A trap. How unimaginative. Well, you have me now. So what would you have me to do? Throw away my weapons? Strip naked?" Kurumi raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps a fantasy world born of your sick imagination for me?"

"The thought had occurred to me, in fact." Westcott's infuriating grin still remained.

Kurumi scoffed. "My apologies for disappointing you, but you're going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want to break me. You're not the first man to see me naked, and hardly the first to try and have their way with me. I'm happy to show you exactly what happened to the others who tried."

"As fascinating as that sounds, I don't think I am the man you're interested in. In fact, I think he's right here, isn't he?" Westcott nodded in Shido's direction.

Artemisia shoved the Shido forward. He took two unsteady steps before collapsing into a heap on the ground. It took all of Kurumi's restraint to hold herself back from throwing herself forward and pulling him into her lap. As it were, her hands clenched tighter around her weapons.

"Why do you think he matters to me?" Kurumi was not a betting person, but she was willing to bet that any weakness would be seized upon quickly by the likes of Westcott. So she put on her best poker face, and bluffed like Shido's life depended on it – which it just may.

"So you and yours just tore through my facility like a pack of wolves…for me?" Westcott quirked his brow, still sporting that insufferably smug smirk. "I should say Nightmare, I'm flattered."

Seeing as the Spirit before him deigned only to glare at him in response, Westcott shrugged and placed his hands in his pocket.

"Well, that being the case, then I suppose you wouldn't mind if I did this."

The director withdrew his hand from his pocket, a pistol suddenly appearing in his grip. Before Kurumi could blink, a sharp crack filled the air as he shot Shido through the knee, the boy's cry echoing through the room as he collapsed.

Kurumi started forward on instinct, only pulling herself back when conscious thought re-registered itself. She cursed the momentary lapse of discipline, Westcott's grin growing as he spotted her startled movement.

"Ah, so there's the truth of the matter," Westcott ignored Shido writhing on the ground, completely unperturbed by the fact that he had just shot the boy. "Surely if you didn't care about him as you said, Nightmare, then this wouldn't bother you either."

As soon as he finished speaking, Westcott smoothly drew on Shido. The pistol barked twice, the clinking of the casings on the floor drowned out by the Shido's pained cries. Even from where she stood, Kurumi could see the iridescent flames of Camael burning from the holes in his leg and abdomen, the Angel going to work as it sought to mend his wounds, the flames a match for the fury that was building up inside of her.

"Let's play a game, Nightmare," Westcott called out across the room, as he crouched down next to Shido. He was gasping, pained, but the bullet holes the director had put in him had healed. "I'm going to hurt him. Badly. If you can stay where you are and not make a single sound like a good girl should, I'll give him back to you when I'm done. If you so much as twitch, or make a noise, Ellen will take his head off. Deal?"

Cold fury answered him, and he laughed. "Silence is golden! Let's begin."

He jammed the muzzle of the pistol against Shido's thigh and fired.

"I wonder, Nightmare," Westcott mused as he fired again. "Does this hurt you? Does seeing your lover in pain twist a knife in your heart?"

He grinned as Kurumi remained still, visibly trembling with anger.

"Go ahead. Stop me, if you dare." The smile never leaving his face, Westcott took a moment to dig the barrel into an open wound, relishing in the pained cry and the Spirit's flinch.

Oh, how desperately Kurumi wanted to. Every crack of the gun was like a bullet into her own heart, her fists tightening and releasing on the grips of her weapons until her skin broke.

The next few minutes were some of the longest in her life that she remembered enduring, until Westcott finally ran out of ammunition, and tossed the pistol aside, the weapon clattering against the floor.

"Such discipline, Nightmare. Very impressive, I must say." In spite of his words, Westcott sounded disappointed in the outcome. "Well, a promise is a promise. He's all yours."

Westcott and his retinue stepped back, a clear invitation for her to come forward and collect Shido. Senses on high alert, Kurumi cautiously stepped forward, half-expecting a trap. For every step she took, they took one back, maintaining the same distance between them until she stood next to Shido, placing the musket down next to him. Keeping an eye on the director, and her pistol still in hand, she knelt and turned him over. Her heart went out to him as she saw the ragged state he was in. Anger raced through her when he groaned in pain, reacting to the gentle touch of her cool palm across his face.

"I'm going to pay you back for everything you've done to him, tenfold." Cold anger laced her promise.

Unflappable as ever, Westcott chuckled. "I look forward to it. Oh, and before I forget." A broad grin spread across his face. "I have one last instruction to give. Would you kindly kill her?"

A sudden flare of reiryoku was all that warning she got. Instinct kicked in, and Kurumi instantly flung herself back as a gigantic wall of sharpened icicles erupted where she had been kneeling a moment ago. If she had moved even a heartbeat later, she would have been messily impaled upon them. She had both guns in hand and raised, before her dress even settled.

Kurumi faltered when she realised that Shido was the one in her gunsights.

"Shido-san?" Her fingers hesitated on the trigger, as uncertain as her voice.

Shido's eyes, once filled with adoration and worship for her, were now blank; his movements were jerking and sharp as he staggered forward, as though he was a doll manipulated by an amateur puppeteer.

Kurumi's senses spiked again, but she was too slow to react. A sharp gale lashed out, the force from the sealed Raphael still enough to tear apart anything in its path.

"Me!"

Kurumi was yanked to the side, the gale gouging a trench through the hardened steel floor where she stood a moment ago. The impact jerked Kurumi back to reality, as one of her clones – the planner – grabbed her.

"Me! Snap out of it!" she shouted.

Behind her, Kurumi realised that there was battle taking place: gunshots, lasers, and all other manner of weaponry split the air as her clones revealed themselves from the shadows, and went to war against the two wizards.

"Shido-san is…"

"He's not himself! Mind-controlled, false memories, whatever it is, it's not him!" The clone shook Kurumi again, and Kurumi began to rally. "We will hold off Ellen and Artemisia while you deal with Shido-san. Go!"

A powerful detonation shook the room as the clone finished speaking, and Kurumi nodded. Satisfied, the clone took off, running towards the ongoing battle between Kurumi's clones and humanity's two most powerful wizards.

The clones had the wizards easily outnumbered two-to-one, but even the most lethal of Kurumi's clones wouldn't be able to best either wizard with those odds. But they would give a good account of themselves, and delay the wizards for as long as possible.

Lives for time.

"Shido-san! Over here!" Kurumi almost regretted calling out his name, as a hail of icicles tore through the air, passing by so closely that Kurumi could feel the chill on her cheek.

But at least she had his attention.

She sprinted away in the opposite direction to her clones and into the offices, Shido chasing after her.

For a time, Kurumi's clones held the upper hand.

Ellen and Artemisia were beaten backwards into the maze of containers and machinery, forced on the defensive as they underestimated the ferocity and tenacity of the clones. The battle-hungry clone laughed and laughed as she danced and flitted between the two wizards, attacking one after the other and firing off her weapons constantly. Artemisia was forced back by a series of blows as the ferocious clone launched herself at the wizard, fending off strikes from the musket with her sword. The dependable clone took advantage of the distraction, rushing in with a volley of firepower that blew apart one of the laser cannons on Artemisia's suit as it readied to fire.

Artemisia stumbled back with a pained cry, sword swinging preemptively to ward off eager attackers. Ellen swooped in to assist, blade whirling, creating enough breathing room for them to consolidate. For a moment, the battle seemed to be in the clone's favour as they pressed onwards, firing inky black bullets from muskets and pistols with every step.

Then the tide changed, and not for the better.

Overextending herself, the survivor amongst Kurumi's clones was the first to fall, caught between Ellen and Artemisia as they rallied. She died soundlessly, speared through the stomach.

The two wizards cut past the collapsing clone, seizing the momentum and launching into a furious offensive; all whirling swords and blinding bursts of killing light from assorted weaponry on their combat suits. The clones retaliated as only the best of them could: ducking behind cover to avoid lancing beams of energy, and leaping away from slashing blades; every step and every action was punctuated with a bullet, creating a withering storm of firepower every time the clones moved. But such was the sheer power behind Ellen and Artemisia's offensive, that even with the clones returning fire at every available opportunity, the onslaught pushed them – and the battle line – back towards Kurumi and Shido, one step at a time.

If they allowed DEM to reach Kurumi while she was saving Shido, then any hope of rescuing him, or Kurumi making it out of here alive, would dwindle rapidly to nothing. In the end, it wasn't much of a choice at all.

The remaining clones fought on with grim determination, doggedly denying DEM's best with every step.

Shido…

For Kurumi, pulling a trigger had never been harder; especially when it was Shido in her sights.

"Shido-san, it's me!" Kurumi pleaded. Her cries fell on deaf ears, as a second hail of sharpened icicles forced her to leap away.

Perhaps the only thing keeping her alive was Shido's lack of experience in wielding the Angels. His attacks were powerful and hard-hitting, but they lacked any sort of precision or refinement that came with experience. That gave Kurumi a fighting chance, but every time she had a shot lined up, memories of their time together swam up and her finger hesitated on the trigger.

Focus! He's not himself!

Even the thought of having to hurt him sent a punch to Kurumi's stomach. The idea of needing to kill him to survive nearly broke her heart, and already it felt like some malevolent force was constricting her heart. Her breathing came out in short gasps, and tears and sweat stung her eyes. Despair began to creep into her being, and Kurumi's actions became even more sluggish. But as Shido attacked her relentlessly, sending gale after sharpened gale, destructive blades of pure purple energy and thin beams of white light that tore apart the room around her, Kurumi was quickly running out of options.

That the sounds of battle were creeping closer and closer only added to the pressure.

"Shido-san! Please remember!"

One of the clones – no particular quirks, but known for the dependability and reliability of her warmaking – took her eyes off the battle for a single moment as she heard Kurumi's shout. A fatal distraction: a blurring blade bit into her a second later. Three clones remained.

Kurumi's words were of no use. Shido's eyes had the same, blank stare as he launched another attack. A barrage of thin, white beams bracketed her, and only a precise dive through the closing gap saved her from evisceration. Her arm came up and she squeezed off a quick shot in Shido's general direction. His hands, holding her own as he bandaged her injury with more tenderness and care than she deserved.

The memories, Kurumi realised. If he couldn't remember her, then she would make him remember.

Easier said than done though: the sheer number of Angels Shido was capable of summoning made approaching him difficult, and up close, one didn't need to be particularly skilled – just lucky – to land a single hit, and Kurumi would be dead. But if it meant being able to bring him back, then Kurumi would take that risk. She launched herself forward. Every moment counted – every second she took was time that was bought by her clones. Time that was dwindling fast.

The battle-hungry clone was the next to fall. She took advantage of a lapse in the wizard's offensive as the two of them sheltered from a storm of gunfire to counter-attack, leaping over a barricade to engage them both in hand-to-hand combat. She laughed and laughed as she struck out with fists and feet, forgoing a firearm of any sort. Were the universe so forgiving of such heroism, she may have had the slimmest chance. Alas, the universe was not a forgiving one, and neither was Ellen or Artemisia. The battle-hungry clone perished soon after her audacious assault, cut in twain – but she never stopped giggling to the end.

Two clones remained.

Kurumi pressed on. She danced and weaved through a blizzard of attacks, every step forward ever more dangerous than the last as the margin for error dropped. But as her successes grew, her caution fell. Overconfident and impatient, Kurumi's guard dropped. At the last moment, Kurumi stepped forward when she should have stopped. A wall of ice exploded from the ground at her feet, knocking her back with a groan.

By the time Kurumi looked up, a blade hurtled towards her face, Shido's blank, emotionless stare behind it. Her heart sank, and she closed her eyes.

She had failed.

"Ah…"

A choked, bloody gasp.

Her voice, but not hers.

Kurumi's eyes shot open: a clone kneeled in front of her, the blade protruding from her back. The planner, the smartest of them all. She had come to Kurumi's aid, peeling away from the running gunfight and sneaking into a position to catch Shido off guard, when Kurumi had made her mistake. So she intercepted the attack with her own body instead, throwing herself in front of the blade without a second thought – and now held Shido in a surprisingly strong death grip.

"Me …now-!" the clone gasped with her dying breath.

Kurumi leapt forward, understanding immediately, grabbing onto Shido's shoulder and swinging herself behind him, latching onto his back even as he struggled to pull away from the clone's grasp. She forced his head against hers, and the shadows curled and coalesced into her free hand, forming the pistol that she pressed against her own head.

"Zaphkiel!" Kurumi's voice, clear, confident, and certain, cut over gunfire and laserfire.

The sounds of the other battle intensified as it grew closer, Kurumi's one remaining clone, illustrious in battle and victory, fought off both DEM wizards. Her guns fired non-stop as she pulled back to cover, filling the room with thunderclaps.

A deep, bone-shaking chime resonated throughout the entire room, overpowering everything else as Zaphkiel announced its presence, the titanic, archaic clock pushing its way into reality in anticipation of its master's command. If anything, the Angel's arrival caused Shido's trashing to become even more violent and desperate, but Kurumi held on, even as her clone's grip weakened.

Her last clone finally fell, Ellen and Artemisia having resorted to attacking her simultaneously to overcome her steadfast defence. But the smirk never left her face, and the guns never fell from her grasp even as she collapsed. She had done her duty: the moment Zaphkiel was ready, Kurumi did not hesitate.

"Yod!"

A single gunshot filled the air.

Flesh joining. Ecstasy and fulfillment like she never experienced before. Her heart, beating a million times a minute as she laughed and danced away from him in a crowd of thousands. Contentment, as they ate their meal within the cozy comfort of a ramen truck, the steamy heat and warmth washing out the weary cold. The thrill of excitement, a spark of adventure, as they wandered through a hostile city together.

By the time Kurumi jerked back to reality, she found herself sitting atop of Shido, hands holding him down by the shoulders – somewhat unnecessarily, as he was steady, calm; a world apart from the frenzied thrashing of before. His eyes cracked open and he shifted to face her.

"Kurumi?" Shido's voice was small, weary; she almost had to duck her head to hear him, but the recognition – Kurumi was torn between laughing and crying in relief, as though a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Yes, I'm here." She settled on taking his hand in her own, feeling Shido's grip tighten. For a moment, she almost forgot about everything else – like all had returned to its rightful place in the world.

Light clapping shattered the moment like glass.

Kurumi spun around to face the noise, pistol levelled at the source. Westcott stood there, wearing that same, self-satisfied grin from earlier. Ellen and Artemisia flanked him in blood-splattered armour, swords at their side, staring at her with dour expressions. Westcott's clapping echoed across the expansive room, deafening in the now-quiet atmosphere.

"Well done, Kurumi Tokisaki," Westcott said, lowering his hands. "I must admit, you are far more resourceful than I anticipated. Unfortunately, our games must end here."

Somehow, Kurumi doubted that the director meant that Shido and herself were free to go.

The director stepped back behind the two wizards, the same smile still plastered on his face as he spoke. "Kill them. The boy first – and slowly, if you please. And when you carve out his heart, please show Nightmare what it looks like. I'm sure she'll want to see what she so desperately desires."

One last fight.

If she could ward off two of DEM's best, then she could escape this hellhole with Shido. If not, any dreams of a future with him would die alongside her. Kurumi's grip on her pistol tightened as she steeled herself, readying herself for war.

Ellen and Artemisia's mouths twitched into a grin, before they launched themselves forward in a blisteringly fast attack.

Kurumi reacted instantly, throwing herself backwards even as her pistol spat out two rounds in the time it took for the gunshots to echo across the room.

Ellen was too slow to react, catching a bullet with her face. The wizard's territory was still up however, and the impact of the bullet snapped her head back instead of killing her outright. She crashed to the ground in an ungainly heap, thrown forward by her own momentum. Artemisia batted away the bullet meant for her with the flat of her sword and lunged forward.

Her attack never landed: Kurumi spun deftly around the thrust, her foot coming up and smashing into Artemisia's side. Protected by her combat suit and territory, it was a mild blow at best, forcing a grunt from the other girl as she stumbled forward.

They were too close to Shido. Kurumi couldn't fight at her best if she had to protect him while fending off both Ellen and Artemisia, and it would be all too easy for them to grab him in his weakened state and use him against her.

She couldn't lose him; not again.

So Kurumi leapt into the air, away from Shido and Westcott, guns blazing. Like a cobra unfurling its hood, Kurumi made herself the largest, most dangerous target possible to Ellen and Artemisia, baiting the two wizards with a grudge against Spirits. It worked, as Artemisia immediately tore towards her like a bloodhound, with Ellen hot on her heels.

They were immediately greeted by a storm of gunfire, as Kurumi, empowered by Aleph , fired off her guns with inhuman speed. Being extensions of Zaphkiel itself, her Angel was capable of reloading her weapons as fast as she willed it; and with her patience with DEM's wizards long expended, and filled with a burning desire to see them suffer, Kurumi was not lacking in any will to see the guns fall silent. Such as the intensity of the gunfire, even the mighty Ellen and Artemisia had to hunker down and shelter themselves from the storm.

"How many times have you seen him die, Nightmare?" Ellen taunted, even as she pulled back from a bullet that whizzed past her head.

"Not as many times as you've regretted those words," Kurumi shot back, verbally and physically as she fired off another bullet, forcing Artemisia to keep her head down.

Ellen snarled in response, using the break to vault over her cover and blitz forward.

Their battle carried them back across the room, retracing the path where Kurumi's clones had fought so tenaciously to hold back DEM's best wizards until they entered that clearing again. Bodies identical to Kurumi's own littered the ground they fought over – a testament to their sacrifice.

But no one – not Artemisia, not Ellen, and not Kurumi – paid any attention to the bodies, fully consumed as they were in their battle; a single distraction, for any single one of them, could prove fatal given the sheer calibre of their opponents.

A mistake, and one that would turn the tide of the battle.

Because forgotten in the heat of battle, among the pile of identical bodies, a single one stirred. The clone shifted, inhaling deeply even as she felt her strength drift away. Yet, in spite of the hole in her side and the blood pooling out, she couldn't help the smirk that crossed her face. Before her, Kurumi duelled with both Artemisia and Ellen; all flashing swords that sliced through the air and barking firearms blasting an endless stream of bullets.

Even outnumbered two-to-one, Kurumi gave a good account of herself: nimbly ducking and dodging all manner of strikes before swiftly retaliating with a barrage of firepower that hammered down territory time after time. Ellen blurred straight up to her before swinging her blade in a quick, decapitating strike – only for the Spirit to flip out of the way and ram shoulder-first into Ellen's stomach, sending her flying back. Kurumi followed it up with a stream of jet black bullets that blasted into Ellen's territory. But before she could put out enough firepower to shatter the protective field, Artemisa launched herself at Kurumi, blade lifted and aiming to skewer the Spirit.

Kurumi responded far faster than Artemisa had anticipated, pirouetting around the thrust with barely a centimetre to spare, before batting away the sword with her musket. Her off-hand raised the pistol and levelled it squarely at Artemisa's head, pouring reiryoku into a single, deafening shot. Artemisa barely managed to refocus her territory forward, and a bullet that should have killed her instead blasted into her reinforced territory with enough force to send the Wizard into a downward spiral before she recovered.

By all accounts, Kurumi rightfully had them dead to rights. Had any one of them faced Kurumi head-to-head, the outcome would have been clear as day.

But life was seldom fair, and neither was this fight.

Ellen and Artemisia fought as a devastatingly effective team, denying Kurumi precise killshots as they swooped in to attack in concert, forcing her to divert her attention from the other. Kurumi had come close to smashing through their territories on multiple occasions, the wizards unable to overcome the Spirit's frightening accuracy as she blazed away with musket and pistol. But every time their territories dipped dangerously low, they would duck back, and the other, refreshed and back at full strength, would go on the offensive anew, forcing Kurumi on the defensive to ward off the aggression.

It was a simple matter of numbers. Kurumi's reserves of reiryoku, while massive relative to a sealed Spirit's, were still finite. Even more alarmingly, they were dwindling with every repelled offensive; Artemisa and Ellen had similarly large pools of mana to draw upon, yet they only had to face one opponent.

If it continued as is, the outcome of this battle was inevitable.

Not, however, if the clone had any say in the matter. Her strength, along with her time in this world, was fading fast, but even so, she managed to summon the strength to clasp the pistol tightly in her hand. Like Kurumi, one bullet would be all she needed to change the tide of the battle.

A voice spoke in her mind. The owner, long forgotten, was nothing more than a faint memory, but the words remained.

One bullet is all you need, but you must be patient.

Wait.

Hold.

Kurumi inhaled and exhaled and waited, eyes closed, but other senses alert and hunting. There; the deafening claps of Zaphkiel's arms, the hum and whining of laser blades as they split the air fruitlessly in search of flesh, and footsteps nearby. Kurumi homed in on that last sound, blotting out everything else, letting the cacophony of battle fade into the background.

Be still for as long as you need – longer, if you can. For as long as it takes for the right moment to appear.

The footsteps were slowing, coming closer and closer. Her grip on the pistol tightened further, almost until the knuckles were showing.

One shot, fired impatiently, will change nothing.

But one shot, fired patiently, will change everything.

The footsteps stopped.

When the time comes – and you will know when; only then, do you fire.

A sadistic smirk blossoming across her beautiful face, the clone used the last of her strength to push herself around and level the pistol at her target, and at last, fired.

And at last, still smoking, the pistol fell from her fingers.

One sound changed everything.

"Ah…"

Dumbfounded, Westcott shakily lifted a blood-stained hand from the hole in his side.

"IKE!"

Ellen screamed, before she immediately rocketed down. In an instant, she had covered him with her territory, shielding him from any further attack. She caught the director as he stumbled and quickly examined the wound. Not lethal, but if left alone, it could become infected, or he could die from blood loss…

A frustrated snarl tore its way from Ellen's throat as she glanced back and forth between Kurumi – still duelling Artemisia – and Westcott.

"Artemisia! Kill Nightmare, grab her crystal and dispose of the boy!" Ellen shouted. "I will get Ike to safety!"

Sword flashing, Artemisia blocked a series of shots and fired off a laser from her suit's remaining cannon, forcing Kurumi to spin out of the way, before replying. "Roger!" She confirmed with a nod, before charging at Kurumi again, barrelling out of the path of a pair of bullets fired at her.

"Ike, stay with me!" Ellen hoisted him up in a bridal carry, before she shot for a corridor on the far side of the room.

They played no further part in the battle.

That left Kurumi and Shido against Artemisia. A fairer fight for sure, but still far short of an easy battle. Artemisia was arguably the second strongest wizard humanity had to offer, just short of Ellen and potentially Mana, and it reflected in her aggression. Her attacks were swift and relentless, and she constantly swept in to close the distance and deny Kurumi any advantage of range.

Their battle carried them across the floor, leaving a trail of devastation behind them as Artemisia's blade ripped apart machinery in search of flesh, and Kurumi's guns blasted out a never-ending hail of bullets that tore into anything Artemisia sought to use as cover. It was a lethal and destructive game of cat and mouse, as Kurumi sought out enough space to make use of her powers. All it would take was one bullet, just one mistake from Artemisia, and Kurumi could end it all right here. But instead, much to her frustration, she was forced to weave between and duck underneath sword swings, Artemisia's aggression denying her any opening to exploit.

"Give it up, Nightmare," Artemisia said as she chained together a masterful and deadly series of strikes that flowed fluidly from start to finish, pushing Kurumi onto the defensive. Not a single blow landed, and she pulled back after the fruitless attack, separating from the fight momentarily. They took the chance to take stock, size up each other, and regain their breaths. "I'll make your deaths relatively painless if you do."

Artemisia suddenly reared back, before leaping forward and bringing her sword down in a shatteringly powerful overhead strike. Kurumi swung her musket up to block, and the blow which should have cleaved her in half, instead bit deeply into the body of her gun.

Kurumi nearly buckled under the force of the attack, but gritted her teeth and held on, bracing the musket with both hands as Artemisia sought to overpower her. With a sudden burst of strength, Kurumi twisted the weapon aside, allowing the sword to slide off and sink into the ground. Artemisia stumbled forward, carried on by the sudden lack of resistance, and was caught by a boot that sent her back into the wall with a crack.

"Zaphkiel!" Kurumi cried out, seeing her chance. Space shuddered and gurgled as her Angel responded. "Zayin-!"

Before Zaphkiel could respond, a laser blast tore over her shoulder and into the Angel at the four o'clock position. A deep, terrible groan rumbled out, the kind of sound that you felt more than you heard and raised the hairs on your arms, as Zaphkiel retreated from reality with a searing hole in its ornate form. Kurumi dropped to her knees, hissing in reciprocal pain.

Artemisia stalked over, the remaining laser cannon on her suit smoking and hissing from the sheer power that she forced through it.

"No more tricks, Spirit," she grunted, hefting up the sword.

A loud battle cry interrupted them.

Artemisia spared a glance back, and leapt away just as Sandalphon ripped through where she stood a moment ago.

"Leave her alone!" Shido swung the massive broadsword again at Artemisia. It was a miss, as the wizard dodged out of the way of the strike with ease.

Shido's strikes were heavy and powerful, but they were cumbersome and unwieldy, easily read by one experienced enough in battle.

"A boy, using a Spirit's weapon?" Artemisia harrumphed, before sidestepping another swing. "You must be a Spirit as well."

Shido shouted incoherently as he swung again. The blade cleanly missed, Artemisia taking the simplest of steps to avoid the attack as her own blade came up. The momentum of the strike carried Shido forward – and into Artemisia's blade. His shout turned into a choked gasp as the blade sunk deep, Sandalphon falling from his fingers and clattering to the ground.

"No!"

Artemisia grabbed Shido's shoulder, ignoring the scream from the Spirit, and dismissively pushed him off her sword.

"Stay down. I'll deal with you after," Artemisia said, turning away from Shido as he collapsed. The crackling ethereal fires of Camael were already going to work on the near-fatal wound; but they were alarmingly weak, more dying embers than burning flame.

Artemisia paid no heed to it, focusing again on Kurumi as the Spirit leapt at her, snarling. The wizard readied her sword, raising it in a defensive posture; striking down the boy had clearly set off the Spirit, off-balancing her enough to make her forget that she was charging right into Artemisia's advantage. Something that Artemisia was all-too willing to exploit.

But at the last minute – "Zaphkiel! Aleph!"

Artemisia blinked as the gun went off – and the Spirit disappeared.

The wizard took a wary step forward, lifting her sword up and out, ready to deal with any surprises. Only instincts, honed through years of battle, alerted Artemisia to the sudden threat as Kurumi dropped straight down from above.

They collided, Artemisia's counter-swing missing Kurumi by scant millimetres, the two combatants crashing into the ground in an ungainly mass of limbs, striking and grasping at whatever they could. This close together, their respective long arms were ill-suited for close-quarters combat: Kurumi dropped her musket, an action mirrored by Artemisia as her sword clanged against the floor, and they resorted to fists and feet.

Kurumi's Astral Dress and enhanced physical strength as a Spirit gave her significantly more power and protection than her appearance would otherwise suggest; but Artemisia was no slouch either, and her combat suit was perfectly calibrated for any type of battle. Kurumi still held onto her pistol, but Artemisia was wise enough to constantly intercept any opportunity or chance she otherwise might have had to turn the tide around with her powers; knocking the pistol off-target, or grabbing the short barrel to twist it away from Kurumi or herself. The pistol discharged a single bullet harmlessly into the ceiling, before Artemisia swiped it out of Kurumi's hand and sent it clattering against the floor. Kurumi's other fist buried itself into Artemisia's stomach in response, forcing a gasping wheeze out of the wizard.

They exchanged blow for blow, and what once was a duel between the absolute pinnacle of human and Spirit lethality, quickly devolved into a ruthless, no-holds barred beatdown.

A fist aimed at Kurumi's head instead smashed into her shoulder, courtesy of a last-minute twist away. In response, Kurumi's elbow lanced down into Artemisia's solar plexus, driving the wind out of her even with her suit absorbing most of the blow. Their blows became sloppier and sloppier as they fought on, the pistol lying forgotten on the floor as Artemisia and Kurumi resorted to beating each other to death.

Kurumi eventually managed to gain the upper hand, ending up on top of Artemisia, straddling the wizard while raining blows down on her head. Artemisia tried to fend off the attacks with an armoured forearm, but Kurumi batted her arm away before landing a savage punch across her face. The blow knocked the wizard back, her head cracking against the ground. Kurumi, panting heavily, raised a fist, intent on finishing the battle with a final blow.

Before she could bring it down, she cried out as a sharp pain speared her side. Artemisia had endured the blows to pull out a short dagger, activating the blade and plunging it into Kurumi's side. Using Kurumi's distraction, Artemisia lunged forward, smashing her head against Kurumi's and knocking her off, before landing a brutal mule kick into the Spirit's stomach that sent her flying back and crashing messily to the ground.

Breath coming in short gasps and blood flowing freely from her nose, Artemisia forced herself back onto her feet, picking up her sword and staggering heavily over to Kurumi with ungainly steps.

The realisers powering the territory in the room were still active, blocking off any chance of the Spirit being able to access her pocket dimension. There would be no possibility of escape for her, and Artemisa was confident that, in spite of her own exhaustion and wounds, Kurumi was in an even worse state.

Said Spirit was glaring defiantly up at her, a hand clutching her side where a large gash bled freely, the dagger ripped out and thrown against the floor.

"Time's up, Nightmare." Artemisa raised her blade, ready for the kill.

She brought it down.

"SANDALPHON!"

Artemisa stopped and whirled around instantly, senses screaming impending danger. Her eyes widened as she saw the boy, the ethereal flames around his wounds flickering dangerously weakly, stagger to his feet and forcefully swing the broadsword that had suddenly appeared in his hands. The sword split the air and manifested a blade of purple energy shrieking towards her. Artemisa responded on instinct, focusing every synapse, running through every mnemonic, desperately trying to reform her territory around her. With a sinking feeling, she realised she was too late, far too exhausted to respond properly, just as the blade reached her.

A territory was only as strong as the wielder. Normal human wizards, like those armed with CR suits and trained by various militaries, and for all their technological advancements, still had relatively weak barriers. Artemisa, second only to Ellen, possessed a barrier that could rival even some Spirits. But she had dipped dangerously low into her energy reserves in her fight with Kurumi, and was slowing down, exhausted; unable to reform her territory in time. The consequence of the attack was inevitable.

Sandalphon, the Throne of Annihilation, smashed into her territory with all the fire and fury of an angry god – and Artemisa's territory shattered like glass.

With a cry, Artemisa staggered back, dropping her blade as every nerve exploded in pain. Kurumi suddenly felt her strength surging back as she recognised the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She snarled as she lunged up and seized Artemisa by the throat, lifting her up off the ground.

Artemisa wheezed and choked as she clawed and grasped at the deceptively strong, slender hand crushing her throat. But without her territory, she was rendered no more special than an ordinary human, and she wasn't able to overcome Kurumi's supernatural strength.

Kurumi's flintlock pistol flew into her waiting hand and she instantly brought it up and levelled it between Artemisa's widening and fearful eyes. The wizard became even more desperate to free herself from Kurumi's clutch, tearing at Kurumi's hand and kicking at the Spirit to no avail.

"Time's up, wizard," Kurumi spat.

She pulled the trigger, and Artemisa's body crashed to the ground.

The room fell silent.

For the first time in a long while, the air was no longer filled with the sounds of battle. Kurumi stood over Artemisia, victorious, before sinking to her knees.

Letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, Kurumi sighed explosively in exhaustion. Weariness filled her every muscle, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed and sleep the rest of the week away. But she had finally done it. She had driven Ellen and Westcott away, Artemisa lay dead at her feet, and Shido was alive. Speaking of the boy, who had caused the whole thing to begin with but had again saved her life, Kurumi turned to face him.

"Shido-san?"

Kurumi's voice died in her throat as she saw him clearly.

Trembling and shaking, Shido looked barely able to stand on his own two feet. Sandalphon was the only thing that was keeping him up as he leaned heavily on the handle. His clothes were torn, cuts and bruises marred his face and most prominently, his midsection sported an enormous gaping wound, where Artemisa had run him through with her sword.

And then the healing flames of Camael, already little more than embers, died away completely. Sandalphon disappeared in a flash of light, and he promptly collapsed bonelessly in a heap.

"Shido-san!"

Far from the battle, a limousine tore away from the Ikeshima district.

Inside, Isaac Westcott and Ellen Mira Mathers sat, the latter attending to the former's injury.

"Ah, thank you, Ellen," Westcott sighed as his ever dutiful secretary gently wiped away the blood from his wound. He held his shirt up, giving Ellen access to his midriff as she wrapped a bandage over it. She worked with a surprising gentleness and care that was shown only to him.

"... you should be more careful," Ellen scolded before moving away and sitting next to him, pulling out her tablet. "That will hold until we can get you to a medical realiser."

"I doubt I was ever in any danger. Nightmare merely wanted you out of the way."

Ellen scowled, unhappy at the implication that she had been dancing to a Spirit's tune. "Then why didn't you say something?"

"I trust you to protect me," Westcott smiled and patted her thigh. As he settled back, he summoned Beelzebub. Foul knowledge poured into his mind as he traced his finger through the book, searching for what had transpired during the battle.

He frowned slightly as the Demon King revealed the fate of the wizard they had left behind.

"Artemisa has fallen," Westcott announced, glancing over at Ellen and seeing not a trace of emotion flickering over her face. She didn't even look up from her tablet, absorbed as she was in her work. He raised his brow. "No tears? No mourning or grief for a fallen comrade, Ellen?"

"…" Ellen finally looked up from her work to give him a rather moody look, not appreciative of his distraction.

The grin returned to Westcott's face, as he turned back to the book.

"No matter. Artemisa's loss is unfortunate but hardly a major setback."

That caused Ellen to put down her tablet and look at him "But your plan…"

"Is of little consequence. We are learning something important today Ellen. And knowledge, not might, is power," Westcott grinned.

"Shido? Shido?" Kurumi knew it was pointless to call out to him, but she had to try. "Please, answer me!"

The moment Shido had collapsed, Kurumi forgot all of her exhaustion and weariness and even the wound in her side as she rushed over to the boy. Heart hammering, she knelt down and pulled him onto her lap, heedless of the blood from his wounds staining her dress another, and darker, shade of red.

She frantically checked everything; placing her ear near his mouth, hearing him draw the slightest of breaths ever-so weakly, feeling for a pulse that was becoming fainter and fainter, and holding onto a hand that grew weaker by the moment.

All of it pointed to one, inescapable conclusion: Shido was dying. And Kurumi knew why.

She had seen it before, when she had lent him her power to save Tohka from DEM's clutches. Her clones had reported as much. Sandalphon was an Angel capable of destruction on an entirely different scale. The human body was never meant to wield such awesome power, and every time Shido summoned the Angel forth, it took its toll on the boy's physique. Camael, powered by the energy of the sealed Spirits within him, had helped to negate most of Sandalphon's debilitating effects. But even Camael's miraculous power was finite; the Angel had been stretched to its limit trying to repair the damage inflicted by Artemisa and the constant strain that Sandalphon placed on his body. Shido's last attack, which broke the back of the wizard, had done almost irreparable damage to his body as it drained the last of his reiryoku and stamina.

Not for the first time, Shido had again, saved her life, at the near cost of his own - but fortunately, even as exhausted as she was, Kurumi could still rewind the time of anything in the world.

"Zaphkiel!" Kurumi cried out, almost on instinct, feeling its comforting presence behind her. "Dalet!"

Where she expected a blooming warmth in response, there was instead nothing.

Confused, Kurumi glanced back. Zaphkiel floated behind her – but it was missing a piece of itself, the hole Artemisia had blown through the Angel still blighting its appearance. Kurumi could see the clock face slowly stitching itself back together, but the small parts of the fourth numeral, representing Dalet, had gone dark. A cold fear seized her heart.

"No, no no no no no…"

Had Artemisia managed to damage Zaphkiel so much, that one of its bullets still remained broken? Not even Kotori had managed that when they first clashed. In fact, it was only because Kurumi had kissed Shido that led to her situation in the first place. And since then, she had been so careful to avoid sealing off any of her own powers – had her clone kissed him? And how had Zaphkiel reacted?

In the end though, any theories mattered little – the result was still the same.

Shido was dying.

Camael was expended. And Dalet was gone.

Without them, Kurumi had no other option left to prevent his death, except one.

To allow Camael to flare up again, it needed reiryoku. And the only source of reiryoku now that could save Shido, was her own.

Kurumi had to give her power to him, or else he would die in her arms. But to do that, it meant relinquishing everything that she held dear.

Westcott continued to speak, not looking up from the book.

"How many times has Nightmare reversed Shido's death now? Two hundred and four? More than that now, counting this latest intervention from her. We know what her goal is. Then if she worked to avert his death over two hundred times, surely she could've found and exploited an opportunity to take Shido's power and life for herself. We may very well have been inadvertently aiding her with our own attempts on his life. Logically, this would be what she should have done: snatch Shido away during the confusion of our attacks and take him all for herself. All things after all, gravitate to the path of least resistance."

The director paused, almost for a dramatic flair. All it prompted was another mildly irritated look from Ellen, who clearly didn't share her boss's penchant for theatre.

"But, Nightmare chose not to do that. She fought us time and time again, fended off our every assault. Why do you think she would do that Ellen? Why would someone swim against the current, or push a boulder uphill? What force would drive a person to defy logic and choose the path of greatest resistance instead?"

He snapped the book closed with an air of finality.

"Love."

"Kurumi Tokisaki, loves Shido Itsuka."

How many times had she seen this happen?

There was another option. Kurumi could let him die, and then kiss him, to take back Dalet and Vav, and redo this all again.

But to do so, it would mean she had condemned him to death as she held him in her arms. Artemisa might have caused the wound, but she would be the one who let him die.

The logical choice would be to let him die and redo the whole world again. After all, who else in the whole world had that power except for her? But Kurumi hesitated. Taking that path meant that his memories of her would be wiped away too. Everything they had done, everything they had shared, only she would know. But more than that, it would be restarting a cycle that had chained her to the past for so long.

Would she be able to live for the future, rather than the past?

Shido certainly seemed to believe so. His truth was that she meant everything to him, so much so in fact, that he was willing to put his life on the line for her. It should have been a victory for her, based on the premise of their game. But she hesitated, unwilling to take that final step.

Because the truth was that she had already lost.

From their very first meeting, she remembered his reactions as she flashed him her panties and took the initiative to grasp his hands. Memories, hers but not hers, but of him all the same. Their date, a memory again not hers. How he reached out for her on the school rooftop. How he accepted her alliance of convenience to confront Miku and save Tohka; the little moments they shared as they crept through a hostile city. How together, with her power and his determination, they had changed the world when Origami inversed. And finally, her own memories. Coming back to school. Flirting, fighting a war for each other's hearts and minds. Their date on Valentines.

The night they shared. How she had given him her memories, and her body. And he had reciprocated.

He held his hand out to her, when no one else would. When everyone saw a monster, he saw the girl, the one who even she thought had died a long time ago, when she had taken her best friend's life with her own two hands. And he had fought for her, never giving up on her, putting his life on the line if it meant the slimmest chance that he could bring her back from the brink.

And finally Kurumi remembered. Why she had accepted Mio's offer to take a crystal into her own body, to become a so-called ally of justice.

She had taken that power, to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves. It was a naïve thought, the dreams and delusions of a young girl knowing of yet sheltered from the harsh reality of the world they lived in.

For as long as she had held the power of the third Sephira crystal, she had used it to take. She had taken the life from the corrupted Spirits, had taken the time from her victims. Even her goal, to rid the world of the Spirit of Origin, was to take from the world.

But for once, she could use her power to give. And she would be giving it to the kindest, most loving person she knew. The boy who loved Spirits. The boy who loved her.

And finally, she admitted it to herself. The boy who had captured her heart.

Her lips hovered over his, the tiniest hair-breadth separating them, hesitating. She had already kissed his cold, unfeeling lips, two hundred lifetimes ago. Each time she touched those broken lips with her own, her heart broke. It was a reminder of her failure to protect the boy.

Kurumi didn't know, didn't understand, why it had hurt so much. Wouldn't her goal result in the same outcome? But now, as she stood at the crossroads between a well-worn past and an uncertain future, and as Shido teetered on the brink of life and death, Kurumi knew.

Love, much like change, was often subtle, surreptitious. It crept up on you, unnoticed, unbidden, and suddenly the entire world could be upended. Nothing that made sense before suddenly would, and everything that made sense then, now would not. For Kurumi, all the pieces fell into place. She understood now.

And Kurumi made her choice.

"Shido-san…do you remember that I gave you a promise?"

It didn't make sense to say words to ears that would likely never hear them. But as the gates to her heart finally opened, Kurumi couldn't stop the feelings from racing out. And so she gave voice, to everything she had long buried and tried to forget.

"That I would give you everything, except my reiryoku. And I promised myself, that should I have to choose between you and my goal, that I would choose my goal. But things are different now."

"I keep my promises, Shido. But those promises, they are ones that I can no longer keep. It is a promise I must break."

Memories swam up. Those belonging to her clone, the one who had disobeyed her orders and started them down this route. Giving was the greatest thing she could do, the clone had told him. Unbidden, unconsciously, the memories surfaced until they were the same as the thoughts that flowed through Kurumi's muddled mind. Where once, she would have thrown such thoughts aside, she now recognised them for what they were now: no matter their origin, they were still her thoughts.

"Me…she gave you the most she could – her life. But I will give you so much more. For you, I will give you my power, my life…and my future. I will give you my everything."

Kurumi leaned down and kissed him, her warm, soft lips brushing gently over his.

And a heartbeat later –

Camael roared into life.

.

.

.

Chapter 08: Denouement

Kurumi dreamed of fire.

The ethereal, iridescent fires of Camael burned tall, trapping her within a great conflagration of flame.

But this was no raging inferno. The flames swayed gently, like wheat in the wind. Embers wickered off from the great fires, some brushing harmlessly against her skin. The warmth surrounded her, like a mother's embrace, and Kurumi's heartbeat remained steady and her breathing calm, even as the fires continued to crackle and sizzle and burn.

There - a sudden absence of fire: a break in the flames, an opening as inviting as any door.

She felt herself moving – drifting almost, drawn irrevocably to the gap like a moth to a flame. As soon as she passed the threshold, the fires suddenly surged forth, racing past her. Wind whipped against her skin with their passing, but they left a gentle warmth in their wake rather than a scorching heat. The flames themselves were no longer a rainbow of colours, but a hue of fiery reds and warm yellows. Tendrils of fire swirled and coalesced into a human figure, but it was indistinct: no identifying features of any sort, not even an indication of sex. A human, boiled down to the key components: head, torso, arms, and legs.

The fire-human began to glide across the floor towards her.

Kurumi found herself unable to move. Something instinctively told her she was safe, as the figure stopped, mere centimetres away - and embraced her.

Flames that should have burned skin and melted fat merely warmed, as she wrapped her own arms around the flames – she wasn't sure why she did so in kind, but it felt right.

No words were exchanged, but Kurumi could feel something within herself - not words, but concepts: joy, regret, anger - forgiveness.

Kurumi suddenly realised that there was a rhythmic thump - more felt than heard - but was unable to place it. A heartbeat perhaps? Hers? Or the figure's?

The fires had all but died away, leaving Kurumi alone in a dark void with the figure. Without word or sound, they released her and stepped back. A melancholy filled her as the figure walked away, and faded with every step. Dying embers flew off in great arcs to disappear into ash, scattering into the void around them - but before it disappeared, its head turned to face Kurumi.

Goodbye

Kurumi fell.

The surface of the void rushed up to meet her and moments before she broke through - Kurumi remembered a name.

Sawa-san?

A sterile, white ceiling greeted Kurumi when she woke up. Embedded lights glowed down from above, warm and comfortable despite their brightness. The air held a hint of disinfectant, and tasted of the tiniest metallic tinge that spoke of air being cycled through vast ducting systems. And, if she ignored the steady beeps from the monitor next to her bed, she could just feel and hear the faintest thrum rumbling beneath the deck plating, of the sort that could only be generated by titanic engines.

Kurumi was onboard Ratatoskr's airship, the Fraxinus. More specifically, based on those very monitors and the series of tall white sheets that had been drawn around her bed, she was being held in a medical bay.

Waking up in a medical facility of any sort hadn't happened in a very long time. She wasn't sure if she enjoyed the current experience any more than she did before.

Though, that may have something to do with how different she felt. Gone was the sense of power running through her veins. Zaphkiel's presence, once strong and redoubtable, was muted. The shadows still responded to her touch, but the connection was weaker.

The price of being sealed.

The price for Shido's life.

"It was worth it," Kurumi said to herself.

For once, there was no sense of unease behind her words.

Still, that left the question: where was Shido now?

Never one to idly lay back and allow questions to answer themselves, Kurumi propped herself up – frowning at the horrid hospital gown she was dressed in – and swung her legs over the bed. It was at that point that another observation piqued her interest: the restraints – or rather, the lack of said restraints.

A door hissed open, and Kurumi's head jerked to face the noise. A familiar face, Reine Murasame, the school's assistant teacher – and more importantly, Ratatoskr's chief analysis officer – appeared, parting the curtains.

"Oh, you're awake," Reine said as she stepped through the gap. "How are you feeling, Kurumi?"

Kurumi's skin prickled as the older woman spoke, despite the lack of any hostility in Reine's voice, and the absence of any visible threat.

"I'm fine, thank you," Kurumi replied, hiding her discomfort. "Where's Shido-san?"

"Hmm? Shin?" Reine's demeanour became the slightest more active on hearing Shido's name. "He is alive, and well – in no small thanks to your efforts. Lie back, please."

A weight lifted off Kurumi's shoulders, and she sagged back into the soft bed with a sigh.

Reine spent the next few minutes checking Kurumi's vitals, taking readings from various monitors with nary a word, until Kurumi broke the quiet first.

"Murasame-sensei? A question, if you will."

Reine nodded, but it was slow and lethargic – as if moving her head alone was a significant impost.

"Why am I not restrained?" Kurumi lifted up her arm for emphasis.

"You're our guest, not a prisoner." Reine spoke in a matter of fact tone, as if it was totally normal for Kurumi to be residing unrestrained in the medbay of the organisation she had been opposing, at least in part.

"A guest, you say?"

"That depends entirely on you," a third voice interjected.

Kurumi glanced at the speaker, and unsurprisingly, there Kotori stood at the edge of the privacy curtain: arms folded, black ribbons tied in her hair, and the crimson officer's jacket hanging off her shoulders. She stepped further into the bay, mouth set in a straight line, but gone was the murderous glint in her eyes from their last meeting.

She pulled out the lollipop in her mouth with a pop, her gaze narrowing. "Will you behave?"

"Does it look like I could do otherwise?" Kurumi lifted the bangs over her left eye, showing the matching crimson.

Kotori harrumphed, but stepped closer. "You're sealed, but not powerless."

"Ara ara, all this mistrust, Kotori-san? And after everything I've done? If you believe me of such poor character, then perhaps I shall indulge myself, and do exactly as you think."

Kotori coughed, and averted her gaze. "That…that won't be necessary."

Neither of them deigned to reply, the awkward quiet filled only by the sounds of Reine's slippers sliding against metallic decking, and the beeps and chirps of the surrounding machines.

Kotori straightened up, and met Kurumi's gaze once again. "When DEM struck at us, they managed to knock out Nia. We had to stabilise her as soon as possible, but it meant we couldn't make use of Raisel. But as soon as Nia was awake, she used it to locate you and Shido. We tried to come and help as soon as we had that information. But it seemed that you managed to fend off DEM by yourself by the time we arrived. For what it's worth…I'm sorry we didn't get there sooner."

There was a pause after Kotori finished speaking, and Kurumi could see Kotori's eyes piercing into her person, searching to see if she had any reaction to the revelation that help had not been too far behind.

Surprisingly, even to herself, Kurumi felt little by way of regret. "What's done is done. Importantly, Shido is alive."

"Yes, and thank the gods for that. And you too," Kotori hastily added, as Kurumi tilted her head.

The Ratatoskr commander cleared her throat. When she lifted her head back up again, she continued speaking with her typical aplomb.

"We recovered Artemisia's body from the battleground, but Westcott and Ellen were nowhere to be found," Kotori reported, helping to fill in the blanks of Kurumi's memory after the battle. "We also did a bit of digging around in the computers and servers left behind, and came up with a lot of interesting info – some of which may have been accidentally leaked to the public. Suffice to say, there are many who are now interested in DEM's under-the-table activities. And with the microscope on them, Westcott or Ellen won't be in a position to bother us for some time while they put out the fires. So that now leaves us with you."

Kotori walked around the bed, until she was standing beside Kurumi rather than waiting at the foot of bed.

"Ratatoskr will offer you the same assistance that we have provided for every other Spirit: asylum, re-integration, rehabilitation," Kotori said. "I assume that you would like to continue as you did before – attending the same school as the other Spirits. If not, or if there is something else that you need sorted to get back into a normal life, let me know."

"That is very kind of you," Kurumi said. "I will consider your generous offer."

Kotori nodded, and seeing as Kurumi was not forthcoming with any further answers, turned to leave. She paused at the curtains, glancing back. "Thank you for saving Shido. And for keeping your promise."

Almost embarrassed, Kotori began a quick retreat before anything else could be said. She had almost made it to the door when –

"Kotori-san," Kurumi called out after her. Kotori turned to face her, questioning. "There is one bit of assistance that I would appreciate right now."

"And what would that be?"

"Where is Shido-san?"

A moment of silence. Kurumi could see the conflicting feelings in Kotori's face at her request. But she also saw the other girl's eyes tracking up and down the bed, as though she was reminded about the very circumstances that placed Kurumi under their care in the first place – and her stance softened.

"...medbay one, down the hall," Kotori replied at last.

"Thank you." Kurumi dipped her head in gratitude.

Kotori nodded and left, leaving Kurumi alone in the medbay with Reine.

"You are free to move around," Reine said, stepping back as she completed her checks. "There may be some sensitive areas of the ship you won't have access to, but that is true for all the other Spirits as well. If you wish to leave, simply find myself, Kotori, or another staff member and we will be able to assist," Reine finished. "Is there anything else you require, Kurumi?"

"No. I appreciate your help. Thank you, Murasame-sense," Kurumi said, prompting Reine to head for the door.

Before she left, Reine turned back to face Kurumi. "I'm glad you were able to make peace with yourself."

And with that, she was gone, the door sliding shut behind her.

Kurumi's eyes narrowed, her gaze never leaving the door Reine had disappeared through.

As Kotori had promised, medbay one was down the hall from her own bay.

But first, priorities: Kurumi wouldn't be caught dead wearing such an atrocious hospital gown for all to see. Instead, she took the clothes that had been thoughtfully left for her: a knee-length black dress, and matching stockings. Acceptable – fetching, even.

Now fully dressed, Kurumi stood outside the medbay, peering through the observation window.

The privacy curtain had been drawn around the bed, but Kurumi knew – could feel, even – the boy to whom she had entrusted her future lay in that room. All things considered, their meeting should be a joyous moment: filled with love and laughter as lover met lover, like those fated to be together.

But Kurumi hesitated. An unwelcome flutter of trepidation made its way through her body. This was unfamiliar territory now.

Were she to confront herself barely a year ago, her past-self would probably laugh in her face at the notion that she would give up her power for some boy. Her strength, her powers over shadow and time, they were her, as important to her identity as her very own name. But now, she had given up what she had once valued the most, to take a chance on a boy who had no less than ten other beautiful women and girls competing for his affections.

Had she made the right choice?

Kurumi dallied outside the door, and made excuses for herself : Shido may be sleeping. Shido may not want to be disturbed. Shido may be seeing some other Spirit right now.

Yet she couldn't convince herself that the boy who loved Spirits, who had given them his all to save them, would be so selfish as to turn her away, even if he was on the brink of exhaustion.

But there was nothing to be gained by standing outside of Shido's room.

Taking a deep breath, Kurumi stepped past the threshold.

The door slid open, and the same beeping monitors greeted her. In but a few short steps, Kurumi had reached the privacy curtains, and gently parted them.

Shido lay still on the bed, looking remarkably well given that the last time Kurumi had seen him, he had been on death's door. His face still sported the odd bruise and cut, but he looked a world apart from the boy who had been pummelled half to death, shot multiple times, and ran through with a sword, in addition to having a device implanted at the base of his neck which had been controlling his memories. Ratatoskr's finest surgeons had worked tirelessly to remove the device, and the miracles of modern medical technology, in conjunction with the wonders of Camael, meant that his recovery was all-but certain.

But seeing as he was still asleep, Kurumi was in the middle of pulling back from the curtain when his voice interrupted her.

"Kurumi?" Shido's eyes opened, and his head turned to face her.

"Shido-san!" Kurumi stopped awkwardly, half-prepared to leave. She pushed past the curtains, moving closer to his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Shido still managed a smile. "Do you want a seat? I think there's a chair somewhere I can get for you…"

Shido trailed off as Kurumi simply turned and lowered herself onto the side of the bed, crossing her legs as she sat down and giving him a wink. It wasn't proper of course, but Kurumi loved seeing the blush that coloured Shido's cheeks. The flush remained as Shido sat up and wriggled to the side, affording her some extra space.

Shido was the first to speak, awareness and energy slowly returning to him.

"So, what happened? The last thing I remember was trying to stop that wizard from hurting you-"

Shido trailed off as Kurumi shifted her head, his eyes shooting up to peer closer at her own. "Wait, Kurumi-! Your eye! Did you…"

He stopped abruptly mid-sentence, patting his chest and feeling around, as if he could feel Kurumi's power within him by touch alone.

"It was the only way to save you," Kurumi said, already knowing what he wanted to ask.

"But your goal…"

"It is in the past now. I cannot keep trying to undo my mistakes. The past must be exactly that." Kurumi let out a sigh. But seeing Shido's eyes, and how he grasped her hand gently and nodded at her to continue, Kurumi opened up. "...there's still a hole in me, though. It was my life's goal, Shido-san. It was everything to me. And now, it's…gone. I'm not sure what I will do with myself, to be truly honest."

"You have a future now, Kurumi," Shido reminded her. "You can choose whatever it is that you want to do, and choose who you want to be."

"And if I don't know how?"

Shido gripped her hand tighter. "Then I will help you. I promised you, remember?"

Kurumi couldn't help a laugh. "That you would never give up on me - a girl could become used to hearing that you know, Shido-san."

For a short moment, a silence filled the air between them, as they both took in the extent of their new circumstances.

"So…what will you do now, Kurumi?" Shido asked.

Kurumi did not answer, at least not right away. She instead took advantage of the space on the bed that Shido had vacated to settle back onto the bed with him, the two of them lying down together, comfortable if slightly squashed together. But Kurumi didn't mind being closer to Shido. She folded her hands over her stomach, staring up into the ceiling before replying.

"The clone from Tatabana," Shido turned to face her at the mention of that particular clone. "Do you know what her last words to me were? I rebuked her, calling her soft and naive. Because it was the truth – she was born from my earlier memories, from a different time. But even as she accepted her fate, she told me that no matter what I thought of her, at least she was true to her heart."

She leaned against Shido, enjoying his warmth, his scent, the way he subtly adjusted himself to make her more comfortable.

"For all her faults, she was sometimes quite insightful. For the time being, perhaps that is what I will do. Simply follow wherever it is that my heart wishes to go."

"And where would you like to go first?"

Shido's face was close. Kurumi could all but feel his eyes gazing intently upon her, hanging onto her every word.

So she leaned up, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

The moment their lips made contact, an electrifying flutter made its way down Kurumi's spine.

The kiss was unhurried, but no less passionate.

There was no attempt to achieve dominance over the over, to devour each other. It was a gentle, loving affair, an expression of thanks as much as it was an expression of their feelings for each other.

Shido tilted his head as he kissed her, gently exploring her lips with his own. She relished the feeling of warm lips upon her own – how long had it been? – but she took to it, embraced it, held it so dear; for every moment they kissed, Kurumi could feel how much he cared for her – and Kurumi knew she had made the right choice.

But the kiss pushed all of Kurumi's buttons in just the right way, and there was a heat that was beginning to leak its way from her core to the rest of her body. She shifted, never breaking contact, moving to straddle Shido and start something more when –

"Shido!"

Cries of Shido's name, and a stampede of footsteps that shook the steel deck, interrupted them.

There was only one force of nature capable of generating such mayhem, and Kurumi was certain that all ten of them would not appreciate the sight of her deep in lip-lock with the target of their affections. She pulled away, taking in Shido's widening eyes and the disappointment as she hurriedly extricated herself from the bed and stepped aside, straightening her dress and desperately willing the flush in her cheeks to fade as she did so.

And not a moment too soon: the door to the medbay slid open, and a calamity spilled into the room in a whirlwind of shouting voices, rushing limbs, and frenetic energy.

"Shido!"

Shido was instantly mobbed by the Spirits, Tohka leading the pack and tackling him back into the bed in a chest-crushing hug. The bedframe, an over-engineered steel construction, groaned dangerously under the assault of Tohka's relief.

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" Shido gasped, patting Tohka's back and trying to settle as many of the Spirits as he could. Origami in particular had hugged his legs, and he could feel her small hands start wandering. "Origami!"

"I'm checking for unnoticed wounds," she said, voice muffled by the sheets.

Kurumi looked on as Shido mostly let Origami's intense body examination continue on, even as she made a note to have a discussion with the girl later. For his part, Shido seemed to do his best to calm and reach out to as many of the Spirits as possible: Kurumi managed a glance of him ruffling Yoshino's hair as the shy girl looked on by his bedside with teary eyes, most of her lower face hidden by the puppet perpetually worn on her hand, before the throng of Spirits crowding his bed made it impossible to see any more of him.

"You guys, thank you for caring," Kurumi heard Shido say above the general din. "I'm okay now, don't worry…"

Kurumi fought down a twinge of jealousy upon seeing the Spirits fawn over Shido – how many of them had fought for him as much as she had? – even though she would never admit that to another living soul.

"Ara ara~" Kurumi didn't have to speak very loudly for the other Spirits to stop, distinctive as her voice was. "The sight of so many beautiful girls surrounding you really makes me want to eat you up first, Shido-san."

There was a moment of collective silence when the Spirits realised that Kurumi stood there with them. None of the Spirits spoke, all either unwilling or unsure of what to say in response.

Shido broke the ice.

"Everyone, don't worry – Kurumi's one of us now. She gave up everything to save my life. She saved me," Shido repeated for effect.

"How kind you are, Shido-san." To bring home his point, Kurumi lifted up the bangs covering her eye, revealing two matching crimson eyes. "As you say, I am one of the good girls now~"

A pin drop the next room over could be heard, so stark was the quiet compared to the rambunctious group the Spirits were when they first entered. It was a standoff, with no party willing to cross that bridge separating them.

Except for one, whose particular preferences transcended enmity.

"Oh she's so cute!" Miku squealed at last, her hands coming up excitedly. "So dark, so mysterious, so tempting!"

Miku made an immediate beeline for Kurumi, grabbing her before Kurumi could so much as blink; Kurumi found herself being yanked into Miku's voluminous chest, the other Spirit's arms snaking around her back, trapping her in a very soft prison. "Here here, come to Miku! Let me solve all your ails, let me fill your dark soul with light!"

"Miku-san wait! Your hands-!"

The rest of Kurumi's protests became unintelligible as she tried to beat off Miku, who had all but latched onto Kurumi like a leech, eyes dazed and glossed over as she became lost in her own fantasies.

If Shido's words had thawed the ice, then it was Miku's actions which shattered it.

The Spirits, now laughing and ecstatic that Shido had returned safely, piled on, some immediately turning back to Shido's side, while notably, the Yamai twins formed a huddle around Miku and Kurumi, who at this point were beginning to look like a single entity. Maria, the Fraxinus' onboard AI, set the speakers to play some celebratory tune, the rhythm adding to the energetic atmosphere.

During all the commotion, between the shifting bodies, the music, the laughter, and loud voices trying to be heard across the din, Kurumi managed to wrest herself away from Miku's assets to catch Shido's eyes. In spite of everything happening around him, Shido still managed to return her gaze just long enough to give her a small, genuine smile.

It was the same smile that he had given her when he held his hand out to her: on the school rooftop, on the building where he had offered her his truth. And even after he had won, with her power now sealed away within him, he offered her that same smile. It once bemused her, confounded her even, but now Kurumi understood that smile for what it was: he truly, genuinely cared for her.

And even as she lost sight of him to the Spirits crowding around him, the flutter in her heart never quite went away.

Shido winced as he pulled himself up the last flight of stairs, his recently repaired muscles tense and protesting loudly at their mistreatment. Medical realisers and Camael were miraculous in their healing capability, but muscles still needed to be worked, and strength rebuilt. Reine and Kotori had him on a strictly regimented diet and exercise program, designed specifically to aid his recovery. But instead of resting after one such session, he was now ambling up a staircase to find Kurumi, and his body was keen to inform him of its displeasure with the current situation.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had sprinted up the same flight of stairs, paper wish in hand. At the time, for reasons he couldn't yet explain, it seemed like the most important thing in the world to do.

Now, as he ascended the stairs, slowly and painfully, one step at a time, he knew why. Because even back then, he had the faintest stirrings for that mysterious Spirit.

And as he finally reached the top, opening the door leading out to the roof, there she stood: silhouetted against the setting sun, wearing a black dress as was her custom. But Kurumi's preferred choice of clothing now made her look like a woman in mourning.

"Kurumi!" he called out.

"Shido-san!" There was no masking the surprise in Kurumi's eyes and expression when she turned around. "You shouldn't be up here – Kotori-san and Murasame-sensei said you needed to avoid too much strenuous action."

Kurumi crossed the distance between them easily, slipping under his arm. "Lean on me."

Their difference in stature made it awkward, but Shido wouldn't have traded anything else in the world at that moment, as Kurumi helped him towards the edge of the building where a tree rose tall.

"So, how'd you hear Kotori and Reine talking about me?"

"I have eyes and ears everywhere, Shido-san," Kurumi said with a wink, tilting her head and rubbing an earlobe between her fingers.

The smile on her face soon fell away, as they turned to face the tree. Tied to the tallest branch by his very own hand, a piece of paper fluttered freely in the wind. Shido wasn't sure how the paper remained there, but it was as tenacious as the clone who wrote upon it.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, ruminating on the impact the clone had on their lives.

"It was her, wasn't it?" Kurumi was the first to break the silence.

Shido looked at her, unsure. "What do you mean, Kurumi?"

Kurumi looked up at the fluttering piece of paper. "My clone. She convinced you that I could be different, didn't she?" Kurumi spoke, a wistful look in her eyes. "That I wasn't a monster."

"I guess so, somewhat at least? But it wasn't just her. It was you as well, Kurumi. You changed, and you saved my life. I haven't thanked you properly for that yet, either."

Kurumi gave a small laugh at that, though it was not an unkind one. "I would say that you saved mine as well, which seems like a fair exchange."

"I guess you could say that she saved both of us then," Shido said.

There was a moment of silence, as Shido summoned the courage to ask the question that had been eating away at him.

"Is there any chance that she can come back?"

A heartstopping moment of silence followed, before Kurumi replied.

But Kurumi's response was not what he expected.

"Ara, is Shido-san having second thoughts about choosing myself over her? Was I not good enough?" Kurumi raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him.

"What?" Shido looked confused for a moment, and then his face shifted several shades of red as he caught the implications behind Kurumi's words. "No, never!"

His protests did little more than prompt a laugh from Kurumi.

"Oh Shido-san, you are just too fun to tease. I have no clue how you managed to seduce all the girls so far when you are so susceptible to such teasing. Though, that may be a part of your charm," Kurumi mused as she patted his cheek, with the last part of her sentence trailing off; almost as if it was a thought meant only for her.

Unable to formulate a proper retort, Shido gave a little harrumph and turned away to face the tree.

"There there, don't be like that," Kurumi cooed as she pressed into his side, taking hold of his hand and rubbing it with her thumb. "It's just a little fun now, Shido-san."

When he continued to stubbornly face the tree, doing his best to ignore her, Kurumi upped the ante: lifting his hand to her mouth and gently pressing her lips against it, sending a tingly shock racing through Shido's nerves.

His attempted act of protest collapsed under Kurumi's affections.

"Kurumi-!"

Kurumi couldn't help a laugh. "Just like the fairy tales: a kiss from true love, to awaken a handsome prince."

"I don't think there are any fairy tales like that…"

"Well in that case, you could become a beautiful princess instead. I'm not opposed to such a thing — after all, I have yet to see Shiori-chan with my own eyes~" Kurumi teased.

Shido blushed brightly, remembering the time he had been forced to crossdress to gain Miku's trust.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up too much," Shido said as he looked away.

A more serious tone took over as he spoke after a brief silence. "Speaking of hope…"

Kurumi knew where Shido was going with his leading statement.

"To go back to your earlier question, Shido-san: while my existing clones are perfectly fine, Het is sealed away, so I no longer have the power to bring memories back to life."

The implication was obvious.

Shido gave a little sigh. That book had been closed, its final chapter over, and the tiny bit of hope he had left extinguished. "I see…"

He didn't have long to ruminate however, as Kurumi reached up and gently took hold of his chin, tilting his gaze towards her.

"No matter what happened – please keep one thing in mind, Shido-san: she is also me. And…because she is me, then I can do this."

Kurumi leaned up, and touched her lips against his.

It was a sweet kiss; a gentle kiss. A loving caress, a deeper affection than outright lust – that would come later. But now – now, it was love.

Kurumi parted from him, with the slightest hitch in her breath.

"Thank you, Shido. For believing in me."

"Wow," was just about the only word that Shido's befuddled brain could come up with at the moment. "Twice in one day – I must be really lucky."

"Well, speaking of lucky…" Kurumi had that faux-innocent grin on her face as she leaned in.

"Earlier, in the medbay. Before we were so rudely interrupted by the others. There was something that I would have liked to do with you…" Kurumi's finger danced lightly against his chest as she spoke. Even through the material of his shirt, he could all but feel her skin against his own, and his heartbeat quickened in response to Kurumi's touch and words.

"Yeah…me too," he swallowed, heart hammering.

"Tonight then," Kurumi smiled sweetly at him.

The glint in her eyes however, betrayed that innocent smile.

And Shido couldn't help but to shiver in anticipation, knowing that the night would be anything but innocent.

As befitting a brain overloaded on dopamine, Shido only realised Kurumi had not qualified when 'tonight' was after she had departed.

The evening hours seemed to drag on forever, and he was somewhat desperately hoping that Kurumi wasn't planning on jumping him in the middle of dinner and causing a huge ruckus with the other Spirits. Fortunately, that was not the case, but it still left him with the question of when exactly Kurumi intended to meet up.

It was only after he had bathed and settled into his nightly routine that a clone had appeared in his room.

"Shido-san, please come with us," the clone said with little preamble. " Me apologises for the delay, but there were some preparations to be made beforehand."

Despite the apology, the clone's tone was anything but as she took his arm and allowed the shadows to swallow them up.

When they re-entered the corporeal world, Shido was taken back at the sight before them. It was a foregone conclusion that Kurumi would prefer their escapade to take place away from prying eyes and ears – naturally, another one of her many safehouses would make the perfect location for a discrete midnight rendezvous.

He was half-right. Where previous experiences with Kurumi's various refuges tended towards rooms in various states of dilapidation and disrepair, this particular room was anything but.

A large, king-size bed dominated the centre of the room, comfortable sheets and pillows spread out across it. Curtains had been drawn across the windows for privacy, warm lights lit the room from above, and a lush, thick carpet took up a sizable part of the floor, the rest of it a polished hardwood.

"What is this place?" Shido marvelled at the room before them.

The clone behind him shrugged, dress rustling with the motion. "This was likely an executive bedroom or office, long before it was abandoned. With a bit of effort to restore it, it has become a retreat of sorts for me."

"And Kurumi? Where is she-" Shido's voice trailed off as the door behind him opened. He turned about, seeing Kurumi – and all but lost conscious thought.

The sealing of a Spirit typically meant the full capability of their angels were locked away, they still had access to a more limited suite of abilities; their astral dresses also being one of these. Their armour typically formed on top of whatever clothing they wore at the time, enhancing their protective capabilities rather than replacing it entirely. Kurumi, now sealed, had taken advantage of that peculiar fact to summon her limited astral dress on top of an orange-red dress, backless and strappy. The result was something that was not entirely unlike her usual dress, which for so long had been a part of her identity.

There were some key differences: the dress was a lot slimmer, and clung to her figure much more than before, cut low at the front to reveal the tantalising tops of her breasts.

"Shido-san," Kurumi purred, arching her back as she leaned into the door frame, the arch of her back emphasising her curvaceous rear. She kicked a leg back into the air, balancing against the doorframe precariously on one heeled foot, but the imagery was worth it: the dress pulled back enough to reveal the sheer black stockings she wore, and instead of her typical rugged boots – a pair of glossy, black stiletto heels adorned her feet.

Shido stared, captivated. Kurumi was already extraordinarily beautiful – but dressed up as she was, it took her a level beyond even that.

Kurumi gave a coquettish laugh, before she peeled away from the door and stepped into the room. Each step was punctuated with the click of her heels against the floor. It was a breach of etiquette to wear shoes inside – but sometimes, rules were made to be broken.

"Shocked speechless, Shido-san?" Kurumi flaunted her curves, raising her arms above her head as she stepped closer.

"Y-you're so beautiful," Shido stammered, Kurumi now close enough that his nose was filled with her perfume. "I feel a bit underdressed, honestly."

After all, how could he, in his long-sleeved nightwear and loose pants, stand up to a Kurumi dressed to the nines?

"It won't stay that way for long," Kurumi gave him a devilish smile as she took his hands in her own. "Won't you honour me with a dance?"

There was no refusal.

They waltzed together to some unheard beat, Kurumi leading the way, and Shido desperately trying not to fumble his steps.

The dance carried them over to the bed, their footsteps and the click of Kurumi's heels muffled by the luscious carpet. As they danced, their bodies drew closer and closer together, until they were entangled within each other's arms. Kurumi's hips continued to move and gyrate, but the focus was not so much on the rhythm and the beat to which they moved, as much as it was on each other.

At some point, Kurumi turned around and pressed back against him. Unwilling to let her go anymore, Shido hugged her close – but it didn't take long for his hands to start roaming down, across her flanks and over her stomach. He marvelled at the silky luxuriousness of the dress, and the warmth of her skin underneath; enough so that it was Kurumi who took one of his hands, and guided it up towards her breast.

Shido hesitated for a moment, but when Kurumi glanced up at him and nodded, smiling – he took the plunge, and cupped her breast.

Kurumi gasped in surprise, the sound sending an electric tingle running down his spine even as he massaged her breast through her dress. His fingers gently pressed into soft flesh, the material of the dress only adding to the sensation.

She wasn't wearing a bra , Shido realised. That thought, along with the little gasps of pleasure that escaped Kurumi's mouth, sent another thrill through him, his cock hardening further if such a thing were even possible. At this point, Kurumi would have to be insensate to not notice Shido's erection, poking her in the thigh.

Kurumi yelped suddenly, as Shido's thumb brushed over her hardening nipple. Seizing the opportunity, and remembering how much Kurumi enjoyed having her breasts played with, Shido redoubled his efforts, and pinched her nipple between two fingers through the dress. It appeared that he wasn't the only one enjoying the sensation of her dress, as Kurumi mewled in pleasure, caught between the friction of her own dress rubbing against her sensitive nipple, and Shido's fingers pinching down on it with just the right amount of force to get her masochistic side salivating. Were it not for her self-control, Kurumi would have nearly doubled over in pleasure.

"Two can play at that game, Shido," Kurumi panted between breaths.

Shido groaned loudly when Kurumi reached back and palmed his painfully-hard erection. His hips bucked on instinct, trying to search out more of that touch.

He didn't have long to wait, as Kurumi yanked the front of his pants and underwear down as much as she could, before fishing out his erect cock. Stars briefly shone in his eyes as Kurumi wrapped her hand around him, her grip firm and warm and gave him a small pump.

"Take them off," Kurumi breathed, twisting to look him in the eyes.

Unwilling to fully release Kurumi's breast, but not wanting to disobey her either, Shido did his best to pull down and kick off his pants and underwear with one hand, the other still kneading her breast. Between having his hands full of Kurumi's flesh and her rear grinding into his crotch, it was hardly a surprise that precum dribbled and leaked from the tip of his cock, smearing Kurumi's palm as she stroked him from tip to base, eliciting a keen groan of pleasure from Shido.

The high of pleasure that was fogging Shido's head disappeared in an instant as Kurumi abruptly stopped, instead wrapping her hand around the crown of his length.

"Kurumi?" Shido's voice was muddled, confused. "Why did you stop?"

He hissed suddenly, as Kurumi began rubbing her thumb across the head of his cock, the friction and pleasure almost unbearable in its intensity if it weren't for his precum lubricating her movements.

"I saw you looking at my legs before, Shido," Kurumi had a mischievous glint in her eye as she spoke. "You like my stockings, don't you?"

Even in such a compromising position, Shido blushed – though it was questionable whether that was from the truth of her statement, or the exertion from before. Rather than speak, he could just barely nod.

"Would you like to feel them?" Kurumi's voice was little more than a lethal whisper.

Shido barely had a chance to nod again before a strangled gasp escaped his throat: Kurumi guided his cock between her legs, and touched the sensitive head of his penis against her stocking-clad thigh, where she once again began to stroke him, making sure to create as much contact between his cock and her thigh as possible.

For Shido, the pleasure was harrowing: Kurumi kept him off-balance, sometimes stroking and pumping her hand down his length, sometimes stopping, before slowly and torturously dragging his cock head against her thighs, pressing his length against her leg and rolling her palm up his length.

Caught between Kurumi's hand, and the smooth, silky friction of her stockings, he was at her mercy once again; the mere thought of which was sending another spike of arousal coursing through his entire being. All he could do was hold on to Kurumi, and tense himself against the growing wave of pleasure that was threatening to burst out of him. But the pleasure was too great to bear; his hips started to buck and jerk into Kurumi's hand and across her stocking-clad thigh, as the primal part of his brain took over in search of more and more and more.

"Oh fu-gods Kurumi," Shido groaned, as Kurumi trapped his cock in a silky, sheer prison. Her hand came to tickle and tease the underside of his cock, poking out from between her thighs.

"It's alright," Kurumi cooed, unable to hide the lust in her voice as she started rocking back and forth. "I like it when you swear. It's because of me, isn't it? It's because I can make you feel so good, don't I, Shido-san?"

That tension bubbling away in his balls was threatening to burst, and the pleasure, so intense that it was verging on painful, was beginning to short all of his cognitive functions. All Shido could do was ride it out, gasping and moaning Kurumi's name, holding onto her for dear life as she rocked him towards his inevitable orgasm.

"Kurumi, wait!" Shido's voice was desperate and faltering, as Kurumi's nimble fingers continued to dance and play across his sensitive and near-bulging tip. "I'm going to-!"

There was no way he could finish that sentence. Shido gave up speaking, and did his best to reign that overwhelming wave of pleasure in, focusing on tensing every muscle he could. But like a freight train barrelling forward, hurtling towards the edge of a cliff, there was just too much momentum to be overcome.

He erupted, a cry of pleasure tinged with pain escaping his throat. His cock spurted out his seed, splattering over Kurumi's hand, smearing across her legs and stockings, staining the material a darker colour.

And then, chest heaving and cock twitching and spent – if only temporarily – he collapsed backwards onto soft carpet. Kurumi turned around, wiping her hand on her leg as she did so. She wore a catlike grin of satisfaction as she took in her handiwork, watching Shido as he tried to recover from his orgasm.

"How was it, Shido-san?" Kurumi sauntered over to him, the click-clack of her heels muffled as her heels sank into the carpet. She began lowering herself to the floor, pulling her dress up as she did; first onto her knees, and then onto her hands before stalking up to Shido like a tiger approaching its prey.

Shido straightened up, eyes locked firmly on Kurumi's chest: the position that Kurumi was putting herself in giving him a look right down into the milky soft expanse of her cleavage.

"It was good," he said, unable to look away.

"Just 'good'?" Kurumi asked as she reached him. Her voice was inquisitive, and their faces centimetres away from each other.

"Let me show you how good it was," Shido replied before he pulled Kurumi in for a searing kiss.

Before, it had been affection. Now, it was lust.

Kurumi's eyes widened briefly at the aggressiveness with which Shido kissed her, before she gave in to it.

Shido kissed her greedily, like a man dying of thirst, and he drunk in her lips, her tongue, her mouth with his own. The first time they had coupled, Kurumi had adamantly refused any attempt to kiss her. Now, she relinquished herself to him as his lips roamed over hers, his tongue roaming her mouth, and teeth nipping her full lips. Such was the intensity with which he attacked her, that he began to press into her, and Kurumi, once the predator, now sat back with arms propped against the floor, seemingly helpless against his assault.

They separated for air; but the break didn't last long, as Shido dove into the crook of her neck, suckling and kissing the skin there. It drove Kurumi wild as she gasped and moaned at the affections he layered there. Her skin, smooth and milky white, became red and raw, as Shido made his way lower and lower towards her bosom. A whine made its way out of Kurumi's throat as he kissed the top of her breasts, a hand cupping them from underneath, and suddenly, the dress that was once so provocative, became so much more restrictive.

"Your dress?" Shido's voice was low and husky, and his eyes met Kurumi's own smouldering pair.

"Undress me."

The words were simple, the action commonplace enough that it would have barely garnered significance in any other couple in any other relationship in the same situation, but this was Kurumi.

Once, Kurumi had always been the one to take the initiative and unsummoned her astral dress to appear naked before him. She had never let him take the dress off of her; it was a barrier never to be breached. Even Kurumi's clone, when he had lain with her, preferred to remove the dress herself. It was a step too far, to give that much up when she had fought alone for so long.

Until now: that she trusted him enough to let him undress her, to remove her armour so to speak, spoke volumes of how far they had come from when she had first coupled with him.

For a moment, his lust faded. He placed his hands on Kurumi's shoulders, and at her nod, eased the straps off her shoulders. He swallowed as they fell away, leaving her shoulders naked and bare – how did so little material seem to cover so much? – and then reached behind her, unfastening the dress. He became aware of Kurumi's breathing, shaky and anticipatory – much like his own – as he took hold of her dress, and began to ease it down.

The dress slipped away, slowly baring Kurumi's naked glory to his eyes: first revealing her breasts, perky and full, capped with hardened buds; and then her toned stomach, before the dress finally pooled around her waist. Kurumi did the rest, shimmying the dress down before pulling her legs through, still wearing her heels.

"Wait," Shido interrupted, touching Kurumi's hand when she went to hook a finger into her shoes. He could feel a slight burning behind his ears, but this was not an opportunity that came often. "Can you leave them on, please?"

"Ara ara~" The grin that spread across Kurumi's face could have shone through the room in full daylight. "I've touched upon something you like, eh Shido? Very well – anything for you~"

And with that, Kurumi spread her legs apart, tracing a pair of fingers down her panties, lacy and red to match her dress. The truth was though that Kurumi hardly needed to bother drawing Shido's attention down, as he was already fixated on the juncture between her thighs: the dark material of her stockings ending at her thighs, contrasted delightfully with the ivory-white of her skin, naturally drawing one's attention to her thighs – and inevitably, to her barely-covered mound.

"You wanted to show me how good it felt?" Kurumi all but breathed, her eyes lidded, a flush starting to colour her chest.

For Shido, there was no finer sight to be had.

The next moment, Kurumi was lying on her back, insulated from the hard and cold floor by the soft and fluffy carpet, and he was all over her. If there was one thing about Kurumi that he had learned from both herself and coupling with her clones, it was that she enjoyed the attention that he lavished on her breasts.

And who was he to deny her?

He sank deep into her flesh, planting kisses and tracing the curves of one of her breasts with his mouth and tongue, taking handfuls of the other with his hand. The feeling of so much soft, feminine flesh in hand sent a jolt of arousal right down to his groin, his cock twitching in response. Kurumi's sigh of contentment filled his ears, as much as the smoothness of her skin and the warmth of her flesh filled his mouth and his hands, and the scent of Kurumi, mixed in with the perfume she wore, but oh-so-undeniably Kurumi, filled his nose.

Reluctantly leaving her breasts, now raw from his attention and sloppy with his saliva, he traced a path down towards her mound, peppering her stomach with kisses that had Kurumi giggling between breaths.

She was giggling no longer when Shido reached her panty-clad sex, and placed a kiss on her lower lips, right against the damp material and eliciting a tiny, almost-shriek from Kurumi.

Down here, her scent was even stronger – musky and feminine, and inhaling it was like taking a shot of an aphrodisiac; it energised him, sent a powerful wave of arousal through his body, and his cock stiffened painfully in response.

He pulled at her panties, bunching the material up to reveal the skin on either side of her vagina, and began to lap away at the exposed flesh. He could just taste her, and even that little bit was enough to send up another flare of arousal. Kurumi's skin was pebbly, goosebumps forming from the sensation and excitement, and he took the time to enjoy the sensation of her skin on his tongue, kissing and licking from her outer lips, towards the inside of her thigh, and back again.

"Shido, please," Kurumi pleaded, a hand now threading through his hair.

Shido didn't need to be a psychic to know what Kurumi was asking for. So he indulged her, slipping his tongue underneath her panties and for the first time, kissing her vagina directly.

A muted shriek definitely left Kurumi's lips this time, and her fingers tightened around his hair. Emboldened by her response, he continued dragging his tongue up her lower lips and towards her clit, lapping up everything he could. Kurumi's nectar was strong, almost overpowering and so distinctly Kurumi . It was maddening, and Shido wormed his tongue across her pussy, leaving Kurumi thrashing and bucking for more, it was a lightning rod of arousal right to his cock.

Eventually, the panties became more of a liability than anything else. He stripped them off her, Kurumi lifting her legs off the bed to help. He left her stockings and heels untouched, but as soon as Kurumi settled back on the bed, he wrenched her legs open and dove back into her with abandon. He inhaled her sex deeply, repeatedly lavishing her sex with long, drawn-out licks running through her folds towards her clit that had Kurumi writhing and bucking her hips as she tried to force as much of his tongue against her for as long as possible. One of his hands reached up and massaged her breast, rubbing her nipple between two fingers and causing Kurumi to moan almost whorishly in delight; a moan that turned into a shriek as he focused his oral attentions on her clit, circling her sensitive little nub with his tongue.

"Shido, Shido, yes, right there, keep going, please keep going, please please please please-!" Kurumi babbled.

Her voice trailed off into a soundless scream as her first orgasm of the night struck her. Shuddering, ecstatic moans finally escaped her throat as she rode out a familiar pleasure.

Then the moans turned into screams when Shido kept going.

He kept sucking away at her pussy, clamping his mouth across her clitoral hood and swirling his tongue around her clit, prolonging her pleasure and orgasm. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, holding her in place even as her body twisted and turned in pleasure, forced to ride out his attempt to keep her on cloud nine for as long as humanly possible. His tonguing became more aggressive, more forceful against her clit and her engorged lips, like he was responding to her cries by trying to force even more pleasure into her. Even as she dug her heels against the floor and arched herself up off the carpet, he followed with her, his mouth and tongue unrelenting until Kurumi had screamed herself hoarse.

Finally, it became too much to bear, and Kurumi collapsed back onto the carpet, quite literally falling back to earth. She had to physically push Shido away from her, even as the aftershocks of her orgasm wracked her body, leaving her to shiver and convulse against the carpet. Even the touch of Shido's hand as he stroked her back caused her to twitch, such was the sensitivity of her nerves.

Kurumi finally rolled onto her back and stared up at Shido, trying – and failing – to keep a satisfied smile off her face.

"Don't look so proud of yourself," she grumbled, slapping him on the wrist lightly.

She sat back up, tucking her legs underneath her as she did so, and covered her breasts with one arm – inadvertently, or quite possibly deliberately, squishing them together and making them that much more tempting. With her free arm, she reached out and tickled Shido under the chin, much like one would do with a cat.

"That was really something, Shido," Kurumi smiled, now that she had the situation under control again. "Have you been practicing on me without my knowledge?"

He blushed and tried to turn away, mumbling an answer.

Kurumi laughed softly, turning him back to face her. "It's quite alright, Shido – I'll forgive you if you can produce results like that."

Kurumi then leaned him and kissed him deeply – a bit of a shock to Shido, as he could still taste her on his lips, so Kurumi most definitely tasted herself as well.

But rather than pulling back, Kurumi kissed her way up to his ear, where she whispered an offer that he couldn't refuse: "I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me, Shido~"

And with his cock rock-solid as it was, how could he respond to such an enticing offer with anything but overwhelming fervour?

He kissed her again, drinking in her lips while he stripped off any remaining clothing. He pulled Kurumi against him, relishing the feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest, of how well her body moulded together against his. They were close enough that he could feel her heart pounding, and given that his own heart was beating like a drum, it was certainly a feeling that was reciprocated.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, placing a trail of loving kisses down her neck.

"A girl could get used to hearing that," Kurumi murmured back, with a little fluttering sigh of pleasure. "Let's head to the bed shall we, Shido? Unless you want to take me right here on the floor."

And as attractive as that sounded, Shido did want to at least make this memorable for Kurumi as much as he wanted to enjoy himself. Kurumi stood up, teetering dangerously for a second before she righted herself, pulling Shido up with her. They stumbled over to the bed, but unlike the last time they had been in this situation, Kurumi fell back onto the bed first.

"Wait there, Shido," Kurumi stopped him from climbing onto the bed after her with a hand, as she rolled onto her stomach, facing him – placing his crotch at eye-level.

"Kurumi?"

"Ara, is this just for me?" Kurumi teased his erect length with her fingertips, even as she stared up at him from the bed.

Her eyes locked with his, Shido watched with rapt attention as Kurumi opened her mouth, and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. He groaned in pleasure, feeling Kurumi's tongue darting out and swirling around his sensitive head, as she began to suck ever-so-gently.

"Oh gods, Kurumi-!" Shido groaned.

Kurumi hummed a pleased note behind his cock, the vibrations adding to the sensation as she took him deeper into her mouth, before pulling back. Shido wanted to close his eyes, wanted to block out every other sense apart from the nerves screaming in delight from his cock, but he couldn't: not when he could see Kurumi lying on the bed before him, her head in his crotch; his eyes followed the smooth, naked expanse of her back, down to her curved rear, and finally along her legs; she had hiked her legs up into the air, letting him see the stockings clinging to her calves and the heels adorning her feet, as her legs swayed about in a leisurely fashion – a far cry to the torrent of sensation that she was putting him through.

Without warning, Kurumi stopped, pulling back from his cock, a strand of saliva and his fluids connecting her lips to the tip of his length. Shido all but whined in disappointment at the sudden loss of sensation, but gasped as Kurumi gave his length a pump as recompense.

"Do you like what you see, Shido?" Kurumi asked.

A rhetorical question, but Shido nodded enthusiastically in affirmation.

"Am I good, Shido-san?" Kurumi's tone was lilting, almost sing-song, as she parroted his words from before.

"So good, Kurumi – please!" There was no hiding the desperation in Shido's voice.

Kurumi indulged him – enveloping his cock in her warm mouth without warning, causing Shido to moan in shuddering gasps. His hips bucked, a gasp made its way out of his throat, and his hands settled on her head, but she dictated the pace, the movements of her head and her tongue: Kurumi may have been the one with his cock in her mouth, but she was the one in control.

It was an understatement to say that Kurumi was good – Kurumi knew all his weaknesses, and exploited to a masterful degree: between her lips wrapped around his cock, her tongue swirling around the underside of his tip, and her fingers tickling his length and balls, Shido was left at her mercy, groaning and gasping as Kurumi's mouth and tongue caused his toes to curl and his muscles to tense in sheer pleasure. In the end though, it was just too much: he couldn't take it any longer, unable to stand being at Kurumi's mercy, and the lust that she fanned within him meant he had to do more, had to feel more.

He reached over, inadvertently pushing his cock deeper into Kurumi's mouth, and grasped her rear. The sensation of completeness was almost indescribable, with his hands full of Kurumi's flesh, and his cock sinking into her mouth and he groaned in response. He groped her rear, kneading handfuls of flesh as Kurumi redoubled her efforts in response, her head and lips sliding back and forth along his cock with greater urgency. She let out a muffled moan as Shido's finger dipped between her cheeks, and slipped between her engorged lips.

From his angle though, it was awkward, near impossible even, to be delicate and gentle as he stroked a finger through her soaked folds, occasionally dipping into her canal – certainly not helped by Kurumi's continued oral assault on his cock, as he spasmed and nearly fell over when Kurumi hit a particularly sensitive note.

Eventually, Kurumi reached back and pulled his hand away from her sex, finger glistening and coated with her fluids, even as she broke away from his crotch with a gasp. She looked up at him, eyes lidded with lust and cheeks reddened with exertion, before pulling him onto the bed by his arm; he followed, falling onto the bed, legs and knees spread and astride Kurumi as she lay back and shimmied further up onto the bed.

"Taste me," Kurumi all but commanded, Shido having little choice but to listen, and even less desire to disobey.

So he did: he cleaned her essence off his finger, under Kurumi's lidded gaze.

"Good boy," Kurumi's voice was little more than a whisper. She twisted around until she settled on her stomach, the motions hypnotic in their grace. Shido's heart stopped for a moment and he stared, awestruck, as Kurumi raised her rear, tucking a pillow under herself for comfort and support and presented herself – everything, from the curve of her rear, to the inviting, pink slit of her sex, down to her stocking-clad legs and heels-adorned feet; she gave all of herself, everything opened to his eyes – and all just for him.

She looked over her shoulder, gaze smouldering. "Your reward," she said, wiggling her rear a little as if the invitation were not clear enough already.

Shido needed little further prompting, hurriedly scrambling up towards Kurumi as if scared that she would rescind her offer at any moment.

Gods, Kurumi was so ready, if the copious amount of fluid glistening around her folds were any indication.

Unable to resist the sight before him, he leaned down, and pressed a quick peck directly onto her pussy, eking out a surprised eep from Kurumi. But before anything else could be said, he pressed his cock up against her pussy; they moaned, almost in unison, so ready as they were for the next act that their hearts were throbbing and hammering away in anticipation.

Unfortunately, they still had to contend with some of Shido's inexperience.

"Sorry, sorry!" he gasped as he misjudged, his cock sliding down along Kurumi's slit instead of penetrating her, a sensation that nevertheless was nearly overwhelming as he felt with his cock just how wet and ready Kurumi was.

He repositioned himself, Kurumi reaching back to guide him into place; the head of his cock now settling snugly against her entrance and all the pleasures that it promised.

"Take me, Shido," Kurumi whispered.

And so he did; he pushed into her, gasping as the head of his cock pressed through her folds, and sunk into her awaiting sex, Kurumi matching his exclamation with a moan of her own.

Kurumi's pussy was nothing short of divine. Velvety soft, warm, wet, and all–encompassing; and unable to resist it any longer, he slammed his hips forward, driving deeply into Kurumi, who yelped in response.

"Shido, wait wait, stop, please," Kurumi reached back and placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from moving but leaving his cock still buried within her sex.

"Are you okay?" Despite his breathing, heavy and lustful, there was no hiding the concern in Shido's voice or his eyes.

"You're a little too eager," Kurumi said between breaths. "Stay still, and let me move; I'll show you how to do it."

He nodded, biting his lip to resist moaning out as Kurumi repositioned herself, while remaining on her knees and with rear still facing him.

He wasn't able to keep quiet any longer when Kurumi started moving, slowly and steadily rolling her hips back, her lower lips gliding along his cock and back again, leaving a glistening trail of her essence on his shaft.

"There we go," Kurumi breathed as she eased her hips back. "Just like that. How does it feel?"

"So good," Shido moaned. It was nearly impossible to resist thrusting his hips forward to meet hers, as Kurumi rocked back and forth in short motions; never taking his full length, but also never letting him leave the tight heat of her sex. The sensations drove him up the proverbial wall, as her fleshy and warm inner walls teased the head of his cock with slight movements.

Kurumi worked herself on his cock for what felt like an eternity, her hips rolling and undulating in slow, sensual movements. The two lover's whines and whimpers echoed throughout the room, flesh pressing against slick flesh, the sounds of which were undeniably erotic.

"Kurumi, wait," Shido placed a hand on her rear, stopping her from moving. "Let me do it. I want to try."

At her nod, he broke away from her, easing his cock out of her pussy. He gasped at the loss of sensation, while Kurumi whined at the sudden emptiness within her core. Positioning himself at her awaiting entrance, glistening and dripping with both her honey and his own fluids, he pressed forward, pushing his cock past her fleshy folds and into her hot, hungry sex.

"Yesss-!" Kurumi hissed into the bed, a sentiment that was mirrored by Shido as his cock was slowly swallowed, centimetre by centimetre, into Kurumi's wet heat.

It took a Herculean will to avoiding losing himself to the pleasure, and to ignore that very primal, very male part of his brain that demanded that he thrust harder and faster into Kurumi, until she was a screaming mess and he had come inside her – but he held on, almost gritting his teeth as he slowly slid himself back out of her sex as far as he dared, and pushing back in with agonising slowness. Her walls clamped down on his length, as he sunk deeper and deeper into her welcoming pussy.

"Just like that," Kurumi gasped, throwing her head back as he bottomed out in her once again. "Slowly, Shido; slowly."

And so he did. The slow, deliberateness of their actions was a stark contrast to their earlier couplings. This time, neither of them had any need to prove anything to the other: no need to demonstrate the full extent of their willingness to win, no need to prove their dominance over the other. They simply savoured the moment and the intimacy of it all; of their lover so deeply entwined with their body, the closeness and heat of skin pressing against skin, of fleshing joining flesh. Shido groaned as he hilted himself in Kurumi again, and he couldn't help but to lean over her, brushing her hair away before planting a kiss at the nape of her neck.

But as with all things, the line between love and lust was thin and blurry, and Shido soon found himself unable to resist the growing, primal need to have more. His hips began to drive forward, with greater force and greater urgency in an attempt to claim that deliciously wet heat of Kurumi's sex. His hands gripped Kurumi's hips, fingers digging into her flesh, as his crotch slapped against her rear with a meaty smack on every thrust. It was an effort that was not unappreciated, if the vocalisations that made their way out of Kurumi's throat were anything to go by: she cried out in pleasure, gasping and squealing as his cock buried itself deeper into her pussy. One of her hands gripped the bed sheets tightly, as if to anchor herself to the bed, which was beginning to creak and groan under the intensity of their lovemaking and lust. The other curled under herself, taking hold of her breast, kneading the flesh and pinching her nipple as Shido continued to drive himself into her.

By now, Kurumi's knees had given up on any attempt to support her, and she collapsed onto her stomach. She spread her legs, kicking her heels into the air to accommodate Shido as he scrambled for purchase. He held himself up, continuing to thrust into her and enjoying the new angle of penetration, grunting from the pleasure and exertion, a distinct tonal difference to Kurumi's higher pitched squeals of pleasure. Kurumi's hand had slipped underneath her when she collapsed, and she began to move, thrusting back against Shido to force him even deeper into her sex, while humping her clit against her fingers.

The twin sensations of Shido's cock filling and stretching her sex, and her clitoris rubbing up against her fingers, sent Kurumi spiraling into a dizzying wave of pleasure. Like waves battering the shoreline in a storm, the sensations were overwhelming her defences, washing over her being, reaching into her core with that inevitably, tingly warmth.

"Are you close, Kurumi?" Shido's voice, strained and tight as he held back his own pleasure, suddenly tickled her ear – sending a trembling shiver through her nerves and down her spine, threatening to detonate that bomb building up within her core.

"So close!" Kurumi managed to gasp, as her fingers traced and circled her clit frantically, trying to eek out every tiny bit of pleasure possible. "Please, keep going! Fuck me! "

Kurumi would normally never be this vulgar, this desperate. But the masks were off; Kurumi could finally be honest about her feelings, because it was Shido, the boy who loved Spirits – the boy who loved her.

"I'm going to come!" Shido warned her, voice haggard.

"Stop stop stop stop. I want to see your face when you come," Kurumi pushed Shido back with a disappointed groan, and all but flung herself around until she was on her back. She inadvertently kicked Shido as she did so, such was the impatience with which she moved, but neither herself or Shido seemed to care about the strike, only how quickly they could bury themselves back into each other.

Kurumi had barely managed to spread her legs again when Shido was already mounting her, cock thrusting deep into her sex with a most satisfying slickness. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he sunk into her, making her feel so deliciously full; and for a brief moment, there was a pause in their frantic lovemaking, as they settled against each other, foreheads touching, eyes searching each other and only finding that same adoring affection. Shido took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss from her lips as he lay there. Kurumi could feel the sweat on his chest from where he pressed against her, and his breathing brushed against her cheek as he sucked air into his lungs.

The reprieve didn't last long however, as that burning desire to copulate and to crest that precipice of ecstatic enlightenment took over, and they began to move again; slowly at first, but faster, and faster, until flesh smacked against flesh, their cries filled the air, and the room stank of sex. The sheets had been tossed on the floor long ago, and the frame creaked and groaned as they coupled and joined.

As they moved in unison, as the peak of their climax drew nearer, Shido knew he would never be able to forget this moment, as it engraved itself into all of his senses. Even if Beelzebub were to write out his memories, he would remember: Kurumi's voice, gasping his name breathlessly; the sensation of skin against skin, and the warmth and slickness of her sex ensconced around his cock; her scent, feminine, sweet, musky, all undeniably Kurumi ; and finally, the look in her eyes, of love and lust mixed together under a lidded gaze, her breasts heaving and bouncing in time to his thrusts.

The first time they had coupled, the intimacy was there, but it lay buried, deeply, beneath a layer of intent, masked by the overwhelming desire for victory, no matter the cost.

The second time they had lain together had been filled with anger. How dare he question who she was?

But this time, there were no masks. There lay no intention. She wasn't the third Spirit, and he wasn't the saviour of Spirits.

She was Kurumi Tokisaki, the girl beneath, and he was Shido Itsuka, the boy who loved her.

And as their hips bucked and met each other one last time, they reached their climax – together. Shido cried out in ecstasy as his seed shot out, his orgasm almost painful in its intensity, balls twitching as he spilled himself into Kurumi's awaiting sex.

In turn, Kurumi, a wail of pleasure tearing its way out of her throat, locked her legs behind Shido, her heels digging into his back as she rode out her orgasm, trembling with every wave of pleasure that wracked its way through her body. It wasn't necessarily the most powerful orgasm that Kurumi ever had. But it was the most special.

And when they opened their eyes, panting from the exertion, and met each other's gazes, so full of love and adoration for each other, there was no greater feeling in the world.

The first post-orgasmic sound that came out of Kurumi's mouth was a light laugh, and her lips curled up into a beautiful smile as she giggled. Seeing her so happy, Shido couldn't help but to join in, until they rolled onto their backs; exhausted, and covered in sweat, saliva, and other fluids, but completely satisfied. Shido fumbled around for a moment, but eventually found and grasped Kurumi's hand, their fingers intertwining as they basked in the moment.

"Kurumi?" Shido turned his head to the spirit in question. "What happens to us now?"

"Now?" Kurumi propped her head up with her hand, as she met his gaze. Her other hand began to draw circles on his chest, leaving a tingly path in its wake. "Well, now that I no longer have most of my powers, given up in service of a particular individual – I think that a certain someone should in kind, take the responsibility for me. "

Shido laughed. "Understood. I'll take care of you, Kurumi."

"Will you now?" Kurumi's tone was lighthearted, as she spoke with curved lips and a quirked brow.

"Of course, Kurumi," Shido's reply was confident, as he gently touched her cheek and smiled.

"It's a promise that I'll keep."

THE END