Mikoto's fingers tightened around the delicate teacup, the tiny cup holding its own against her strength. Across the low table, Kuro leaned forward, blue eyes glinting with curiosity, her tail swishing behind her.
"Tell me more about Ronan," Kuro purred, whiskers twitching.
Mikoto inhaled deeply, the rich aroma of tea filling her senses. She opened her mouth, then closed it, brow furrowing. "Ronan... It's hard to know where to begin."
"The beginning is often a good place, isn't it?" Kuro's ears perked up.
"Which beginning?" Little Misaka said as she was settling into her favorite oversized chair. From the shadows, an attractive woman came into view, carrying a heavy blanket, a large book, and reading glasses.
Mikoto's gaze became unfocused as she lost herself in memory as she spoke. "We met during a battle against the Mecklenburg Empire." A harsh laugh escaped her. "He'd gotten there first, not that we knew it. It was something he was good at." Her eyes narrowed as she recalled the details.
In the northern region, a mercenary army had seized the opportunity, carving out territory for themselves. The land itself had once belonged to the four kingdoms, but it had been lost during another battle and another story. It was before Mikoto's time, but the stories were etched into vampire lore—a wolf-ruled monarchy that had controlled much of Eastern Europe, now fractured by civil war.
Kuro pressed her on, her tail now perfectly still, eyes wide with interest. "What happened?" she asked.
"Anastasia gathered her forces without telling me." Mikoto's jaw clenched at the memory. "it was by accident that I found out." she sneered, "and oh, did I give it to Anna." Quickly shaking her head, realizing she'd said the second part out loud. "we attacked and made it to their command center, only to find him there, holding a very young vampire queen of a dead house." Mikoto's voice dropped, a hint of bitterness creeping in. "Anastasia was furious. 'She's mine,' she screamed, marching up to him to take the young queen. But he had other plans."
The memory played out vividly in Mikoto's mind. The little queen snuggled against Ronan, Anastasia's face contorting with shock and anger.
"He named her Senessa," she continued, her lips twitching with the ghost of a smile. "It was like a gut punch to Anastasia. The way she went silent, dumbfounded, denied... By the goddess, I wanted to laugh."
Kuro leaned in closer. "And then?" looking like a predator eyeing a mouse, the wolf leader arrived—a grotesque, arrogant brute. He growled, threatened, demanded. Mikoto's eyes glinted with admiration. "But Ronan... he just looked at him, letting him simmer in his arrogance, manipulated that wolf into recognizing the young queen.
She paused, her gaze distant. "He'd gotten her what vampires prize most: a name and a kingdom." Mikoto began to smile, "Anastasia was thrilled, of course. It may have been her mother's land before, but now she had Senessa close enough to visit whenever she wanted. She called it a win-win. The way she laughed." Before taking a breath, she said, "It turned out later that the same wolf leader had planned the entire thing, hoping to pull Anastasia into an ambush." Exhaling a long breath, "Only for Ronan to screw him over."
"What was he like?" Kuro asked.
"Infuriating. Always showing up where he shouldn't be..." She bit her lip, added with a hint of fondness disguised as irritation, "Jerk."
Kuro's lips curled, revealing the tips of her fangs. "Sounds familiar. Was he—"
"Look," Mikoto cut in, her eyes snapped to meet Kuro's. She leaned forward, fingers gripping the table's edge. "At first, I thought he was just another arrogant boy, thinking he was so special..." Her voice dropped to a mutter. "But really, it was all their fault. Stupid vampires and she-wolves..."
Her voice rose, mimicking others,' Oh Ronan, Ronan this and Ronan that!' I mean, come on... he was just a stupid, arrogant boy!" She paused, chest heaving, then fixed Kuro with a hard stare. "And you know what was worst?"
Kuro's tail twitched.
"Go on," she encouraged, clearly enjoying Mikoto's passionate outburst.
Mikoto's shoulders slumped, her voice dropping to a near-growl. "He would do what he said he would. No matter how much it hurt him." Her nails scraped along the wood as she clenched her fists. "All the fucking scars on his body, those hard eyes always thinking of the next move, and then they would soften, telling you it was alright."
Kuro's ears swiveled forward.
"Oh, so the arrogant boy finished what he started?" he sighed before taking another sip of tea.
"So, What changed your mind about him?"
Mikoto straightened, a spark igniting in her eyes. "It was Sakura Island," she said. The Americans and the Nationalist JDF attacked, hoping to wipe out all the vampires and wolves. All of them. Even the pups, little ones, and human children... didn't matter." She leaned forward. There was a moment after we had beaten them back..." she said, becoming silent. Her eyes became unfocused, lost in a vivid recollection. "I wanted, I needed it..." she said.
"Blood lust?" Kuro's nose twitched as if catching a scent.
Mikoto nodded, struggling to hide her embarrassment. "I was... drunk with it," she sighed. "The fight had become up close and personal. The invading forces ran out of ammo. And, of course, wolves being wolves and vampires being vampires, we opted for the more hands-on approach."
A predatory gaze gleamed in her eyes. "I watched him drop his weapons, drawing her out of the sheath.
"her?" Kuro asked. She focused, unsure of who this other female was. Mikoto waved her hand, "That sword he carried." She shivered a bit. "it was, is damn scary if you asked me," she added, "and started tearing through them like a true predator. Ferocious and primal." Her voice grew husky, a sheen of sweat forming on her brow. "he moved through them, swinging that blade, the blood splattering across his face. The smell... it was too much. I couldn't... I needed more."
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "I remember Heidi and Emma fearing for everyone's safety, yelling and running towards me. They weren't going to make it in time. And then he just walked in, and... he just smiled. Not a cocky grin, but a smile that said everything was going to be alright... and it was." Mikoto's world narrowed to the surrounding chaos.
The sounds of battle. Gunfire cracked, beasts snarled, and humans screamed violently until an abrupt silence fell. The ground smoldered and shuddered. The breeze carried the scent of ozone and blood, its coppery stench assaulting her nostrils and coating her tongue. She whirled around, seeing the railguns' devastation carved into the trees and out into the ocean. Her heightened vampiric senses picked out the aircraft carrier she had destroyed miles away, its hull splitting, flames licking its sides as it slipped beneath the waves. The distant screams of the dying crew echoed in her ears.
Her gaze locked on him as he cut through the remaining enemies with lethal grace. His scent hit her: sweat, blood, and raw power. Watching him ignited something profound, something primal within her, a pressure building to near bursting. Blood lust blazed in her crimson-colored eyes.
She heard her aides' shouts but couldn't hear or understand them. It was as if she was underwater. The blood lust surged as she teetered on the edge of a rampage, her inner beast clawing to break free. She lashed out, sending them flying across the smoking battlefield.
Suddenly, he was there – Ronan – with that arrogant expression fading, becoming more inviting. He was just inches from her face. The way he smelled was intoxicating. The rage dissipated like mist in the sunlight, only to be replaced by a more searing, primal need. She remembered how he tasted and felt the heat of him close and inside.
Mikoto blinked, returning to the present. "I won't go into details about it, but..." Her trembling hands lifted the teacup for a long drink.
"He really knows how to make an impression, right?" Kuro's tail swished slowly while her ears twitched. She leaned back, gazing unwaveringly. "Please, continue. I'd like to hear more about your Ronan."
Mikoto wiped her forehead, slowing her breath. "he can infuriate one moment and be incredibly kind the next. He has this way of making people feel safe." A furrow appeared between her brows. "But there was also a darkness to him, a willingness to do whatever it took to protect those he cared about. Not afraid to make hard decisions, even if it means getting his hands dirty." Her voice softened, trailing off.
The mother of the Kitsune's sharp eyes gleamed with predatory interest. A knowing smirk played across her lips.
"When were you first intimate with him?"
The remark caught Mikoto by surprise. Her eyes widened, her mouth gaping to reveal the length of her fangs. A deep crimson bloomed across her cheeks. "I... what? How did you...?" Her hands smoothed her clothes, trembling. "I'm not sure what you mean by that, Kuro-sama."
"Come now, Mikoto. There's no need for coyness." Kuro's eyes sparkling. "The way you speak of him, the look in your eyes... It's clear you've shared more than just battles and strategies."
Mikoto swallowed hard, her mind racing for an answer. How had Kuro seen through her so easily? More importantly, how much should she reveal?
She lowered her gaze, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "I... It's not... We haven't..." She raised her head, meeting Kuro's eyes. "Our relationship is... complex. There have been moments of... closeness. But it's not what you might think."
"Oh? And what exactly should I think? Please, enlighten me."
Mikoto inhaled deeply, her shoulders rising and falling with the breath. "yes, we've had…a few encounters." Her voice dropped. "I mean, I love Anastasia with my whole being. I do. We are bonded mates... but... sometimes I need... I want..." she paused, a soft sigh escaping her.
Little Misaka, setting her book down and letting her glasses slip to the edge of her nose, interrupted, "And he's not about to say no... thank the goddess!" She shivered and blushed at the moment. "The animal." She smiled. The attractive woman narrowed her eyes, not too pleased.
Mikoto's jaw clenched. "Damn him," she muttered under her breath.
"I see. And these encounters, they satisfy something Anastasia cannot?"
Mikoto's eyes flashed. "It's not about satisfaction. It's... complicated." Her fingers curled into fists. "It doesn't change how I feel about Anastasia. It's just... different. With Ronan, it's... I don't know. Intense. Fleeting. But real."
Kuro leaned back, her tail swishing slowly. Her mouth was near the teacup, and her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"You've found someone for something less deep and more physical." Her smirk accompanied a light tone. "It's more of a mating instinct."
The word hung in the air. A wave of snickering rippled around the table and from the shadows where the other Kitsune were hiding. Even Aikko, usually more composed, couldn't help but join in, her eyes closed as she smirked and giggled softly.
Little Misaka chimed in again, "What are we in high school? Mating, really... how about just banging our brains out when we've got the need!"
Mikoto's face contorted, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. She shook her head vigorously, struggling to form a coherent response. Nearly breathless, Mikoto finally spoke. "It's not like that. We're not... It's just... It's complicated." Her voice trailed off.
Kuro's expression softened slightly.
"Oh, Mikoto. There's no need to be shy. We, Kitsune, understand the call of nature well. Don't we, girls?"
Another round of giggles and knowing looks passed among the Kitsune.
Mikoto squared her shoulders, lifting her chin. "It's not about nature or... or mating. It's about connection. About understanding. Sometimes, in the heat of battle..."
The little avatar interjected again, "Or in quiet moments after, there's a need for something that only someone who's been there can provide."
Mikoto paused and took a deep breath, her voice steadier. "But it doesn't define my relationship with Anastasia. Ronan is important to me, yes. But not in the way you're implying."
Kuro held her cup of tea, her piercing gaze never leaving Mikoto. "I see. And yet, you speak of him with such passion. Tell me, Mikoto, have you considered that perhaps there's more to these... encounters than you're willing to admit?"
Mikoto's face suddenly went blank, her voice becoming matter-of-fact. "Yes, of course. We have three children together." The words escaped her before she could stop them. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what she had revealed.
Little Misaka sighed, "Welp, the cat, or shall I say the cats, are out of the bag. You never can keep a secret."
The room fell into stunned silence. The giggling stopped, and the kitsunes leaned forward, their ears perked and eyes wide with interest.
Kuro's teacup rattled as she set it down, her hand trembling slightly. She looked around the room, her gaze settling on Aikko. The young Kitsune had wide eyes, her mouth agape. Kuro placed a restraining hand on Aikko's thigh, sensing her daughter's impulse to spring across the table.
Kuro's voice softened.
"So... we have some extended family?" Despite her efforts to control Aikko's emotions, a smile spread across her face, her eyes gleaming.
"Tell me about them, Mikoto. What are their names? How old are they?" Aikko asked, joy radiating from her expression. Her hand pressed against her own chest.
Mikoto's shoulders relaxed slightly, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Well, there's..." She paused, her eyes widening as she seemed to realize the magnitude of what she had revealed. She took a deep breath. "I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blurted that out like that. It's not something we typically discuss openly."
Aikko's smile changed, but understanding quickly chased away her disappointment. She nodded gently, her voice soft, "Of course, Mikoto. I understand completely." She paused. "But I hope you will tell me more about our new sisters soon."
Mikoto looked around the room and into the garden.
"But perhaps, when the time is right, you can tell us more about our extended family." An unsatisfied hush fell over the room and garden. Aikko slumped back, her ears folding against her head. "Just their names would be nice..." she murmured.
"Perhaps. Someday. When it's safe." Mikoto offered them a smile. "Thank you for understanding. It's... it's nice to acknowledge them, even if only here." She paused, looking around at the Kitsune, taking their genuine interest.
Kuro held her hand, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Family is Family, Mikoto. No matter how it comes to be." She reached for the teapot. "Now, how about some more tea? I think we have much more to discuss." Her expression hardened slightly. "While this is great news, you still only have three days, Mikoto."
With those words, the room fell silent, the earlier warmth replaced by a palpable tension. Mikoto's body stiffened, her eyes widening.
Little Misaka nearly spilled her drink. The attractive woman quickly wiped her chin, and the rest dribbled from her clothing. Little Misaka spoke, "Damn! She sure can work a room."
Kuro's gaze swept around the room, her blue eyes piercing as they settled back on Mikoto. The atmosphere became heavy.
"What I am about to say will stay here. It will stay here," she said sternly, "and you will not repeat it."
The Kitsune in the shadows and around the building nodded, whispering promise. Those at the table bowed, speaking in unison, "A promise made...a promise kept."
"A promise kept," Aikko finished solemnly.
As the words faded, an eerie silence fell over the gathering. She put her teacup on the table. Her blue eyes, usually sharp, now shimmered. She took a deep breath before speaking.
"Your Ronan... he's dead, isn't he?"
Mikoto's face paled, her lips parted, but no sound came out. The sorrow slowly etching across her face spoke volumes. She didn't need to talk, but her inaction—the long pause before revealing a horrible truth—lingered.
Around the room, tails drooped, and ears flattened. Soft whimpers grew louder, drowning out the once-peaceful sounds of the garden. Each Kitsune in the shadows seemed lost in thought.
Kuro's ears lay flat against her head. The question had been difficult to ask, and once spoken, regret flashed across her face. Her tail curled around her as her claws dug into the cushion beneath her, wishing she had the power to turn back time.
The four Kitsune at the table stared, their expressions softening, their tails as still as death. They looked to Aikko for guidance. She sat at their mother's right hand, clutching Kuro's left hand, trying to hide the trembling. Her eyes shimmered as she whispered through gritted teeth, "Not on my watch."
Finally, Mikoto lifted her gaze from the teacup. Her voice was barely audible, cracking with emotion.
"Yes, he is dead."
The words hit them like a physical blow. A sharp collective breath swept through the gathering, a gasp of shared pain and disbelief. Sounding sharp enough to cut. Mikoto's gaze lifted from her teacup, scanning the surrounding faces. What she saw made her blood run cold. The Kitsune weren't reacting with mere sympathy or sadness. Their expressions bore the raw anguish of immediate loss as if Ronan had just fallen before their eyes. Tails drooped, ears flattened. It was too much, too honest for news of a death that hadn't yet come to pass.
"he really does that to them," little misaka whispered.
She was standing alone. The way she looked and the lines on her face made it seem like she was grieving along with the Kitsune. "It's something more," she added. "I don't know what it is."
Mikoto stayed silent and soft, nodding her response.
Despite the surrounding reactions, Kuro's response truly shook Mikoto. The kitsune matriarch, who had so deftly controlled the conversation with her tone and subtle gestures, now sat frozen. The sharp glint in her blue eyes dulled, replaced by a sheen of unshed tears. Her composed façade cracked, revealing a pain so visceral it seemed to age her in an instant. Her lips parted, frozen for the moment, trembled, and pressed into a thin line. She blinked as her unfocused gaze fixed on a future only she could see. The silence stretched, taut and brittle, until Kuro abruptly pushed herself to her feet. "Excuse me," she said, her voice a broken whisper. Without meeting anyone's eyes, she turned and walked away from the table, her usual grace abandoned in her haste to leave.
She was watching as Kuro excused herself. Mikoto felt a chill crawl up her spine. The grief surrounding her felt too immediate, too raw. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just glimpsed a shadow of things to come—a premonition that left her heart racing and her mind reeling. A heavy silence fell as Mikoto wondered: What had she set in motion with her words? And more importantly, could anything be done to change it?
She looked around the room, taking in the stunned faces of the remaining Kitsune. The weight of their sorrow pressed down on her was suffocating in nature. But beneath it all, a nagging question tugged at her mind: Why did they react as if Ronan's death was a present reality rather than a distant possibility?
"oh shit!" little misaka covered her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut. "This is all wrong." She said.
"What?" Mikoto queen spoke.
"We've got it backward." Little misaka shook her head.
She sat stunned, looking across the table, staring intensely at each one. Taking in each one's features, eyes, and the lines on their faces. Even the way some held themselves. Those telltale signs. Then to Aikko. "you've got to be kidding!"
She had to ask.
Mikoto opened her mouth to speak, asking the question now lying heavily across her mind and perhaps shattering this surreal moment. But before she could form the words, a movement caught her eye. Aikko, her face a mask of determination, rose from her seat...
Aikko, seeing her mother fade into the dark, rose, taking hold of the table as she stood. In a soft voice that became firm, "I believe we should conclude for now. This news is..." addressing the group. She took a deep breath, looking more fierce, changing the direction and tone of her voice. "Remember... you have made a promise." She looked around the room, looking beyond into the dark garden. Her four tails fanned out in a hand gesture. Reminding everyone that she was her mother's right hand. "And a promise made.." was followed by the answer, "is a promise kept." Aikko bowed her head again. "Thank you all for coming. " She added, with a gentle smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, turning her attention to Mikoto." We'll reconvene when the time is right." She said, "Mikoto, if you will allow me, I will take you to your room..." her voice cracked, "please.
The large white moon was low in the night sky, its light shimmering along the lake's surface. He sat near the water's edge, letting the stillness seep into him, staring at the moon's vibrant reflection across the surface. He didn't hear her at first, but he knew she was there and felt her presence as she approached. She was afraid. Kuro slipped behind, wrapping her arms around him. The warmth of her body against his back was a comfort, a quiet reassurance that they were in this together no matter what. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and he felt her tears before touching her cheek.
"Seems you have gotten some bad news?" he whispered, though he already knew the answer.
Kuro tightened her embrace, her voice a soft murmur. "If this is so... then we will never leave this realm." She did her best to sound determined.
Ronan leaned back, turning slightly to kiss her cheek as the tears were falling easily now. But he knew. Mikoto had called out his name, so he knew. He would lie to her, knowing she would see through it.
"We will stay..." he answered, his voice steady, even as the weight of the truth pressed against his heart.
"liar," she whispered, burying her head against him.
