One made the girl open up, but the other gave her emotions: an event made significant across many that spawned combat for her endearment. Many have fallen into the depths of the warm blood pooling across piles of other fallen combatants. Two men stand above for the final deciding battle. In the end, nuclear air had already planted its seeds into the girl they'd shed hundreds of people to have in their arms.
Would the change of events fall blame upon her or was it inevitable? Or was the other simply the better suitor?
Sternness over the soft face of one austere boy had caught her eye. She felt her jaw harden as they made contact, taking in each other's appearances. Nearly burnt into her memory from the intensity in front of her. Standing half as tall as Rihaku and his master, tense muscles glistened with a light sweat, the older boy had his arms tightly crossed with a natural furrow etched in his nose bridge. Fire spoke within the older boy's eyes that felt as though taking offense at her interruption.
Perhaps even harsher when she understands that she's interrupted their session by dropping the ball. Rihaku and Ryuken straightened their posture, not expecting the young girl to make a move so suddenly. Subconsciously, her hold on the ball faded while standing as still as possible.
Tip...
Tap...
Tip...
Tap.
It bounced down the steps and dribbled against the floor. Her cheeks reddened as the boy who was the same age raised the ball with a small palm. Fingers rested at the bottom to keep it balanced. The young girl's eyes swerved past the older one and onto the beaten boy holding up her ball. Trying to regain stable breathing, the younger boy presses his heels hard against the ground and forces himself to stand. When he lifted his head, it felt as though a force phased through her entire body.
Quickly, she snaps away and takes the ball from the boy to not cause further impolite behavior. "I'm Kenshiro," the boy chirped. His features plunged information into her mind. Dark messy bangs, prodigious eyebrows with a tinge of tension above his zealous eyes, scraps and forming bruises coloring his skin, and blood trailing down his bottom lip.
From the hard bash the boy felt against the wall, seeing the young boy to still have the energy to share his kindness surprised her. His name sang in her ears, syllables all but danced around before resting comfortably in her mind and making the girl ponder. 'Kenshiro', a name she found her tongue to roll off of, as though she was born to only speak this boy's name. Images of the boys were plastered across her memory, making sure she doesn't misremember a single detail from the brief introductions.
After all, what else was she allowed to participate in other than her training to become the South Star General? This feeling had to be something every girl experiences at least once, whichever help justified the light burning of her cheeks was plenty enough. Curves of her cheeks softly rose as the smallest but brightest smile shined across her face directly towards Kenshiro. By experiencing continuous dullness, the lightest of emotions she physically displayed was euphoric. Yuria hadn't begun to feel the flush of embarrassment that would come after.
What if she smiled too wide? Is it uneven? Was she trying too hard? A light giggle came from the boy in front of her, something that didn't relieve her ever-growing gracelessness, and turned away from his direction. "Wait... No! I-I didn't mean it like that. You have a really pretty smile," Kenshiro promptly disclosed. Once her eyes fell back on the boy, it seemed to be his turn to blush.
Despite the ability of strong recollection, anything past Rihaku takes her back to what she deems familiar grounds while Ryuken follows suit. Deep, incoherent voices were provided as white noise as she walked close to Rihaku's side, looking at the ball in her hands, one of them touching the spot Kenshiro held.
Before she could lift her head, the environment shifted into one filled with opulence. By taking one breath in, fresh air coursed through her body and carried her stresses away. Her shoulders dropped after feeling all the weight in the world leave her nerves. Yuria looked down to see the ball be replaced by another object. Spotty, selective reminiscences formed like a mismatched painting in front of her. Her world was brimmed with the brightest nature life could carry.
The greenest of grass, blooming enchanted flowers across fields from her, meadows that travel beyond, and trees that filled miles and miles across all around. Paradise brought the beauty of life, my, as she's only scraped the surface. Soil tugged against the cloth of her high boots, brushing past her exposed knees beneath her dress whilst her hands held the painting. Her finger lightly swipes the specs of dust coating the piece of art when she first met Kenshiro.
Toki was the last brother she interacted with doing her youth, helping the boy ease his crying during a moment of distress. Her influence and kindness unknowingly seeped into another's heart. Despite her cemented impact on three of the disciples, the third brother hadn't bothered to make himself friendly toward her. Not that Jagi could be described with a positive descriptor. Other disciples weren't nearly as attached as the brothers were. Nonetheless, she was treated nearly similarly to how she treated them.
Before the older brother's demeanor.. changed. His development felt close to a one-eighty-degree turnaround. Festering and boiling when she couldn't bear witness.
His distaste upon meeting her was far from hidden. On the contrary, large grimaces were so frequent that they created noticeable wrinkles across the boy's maw. She could recall times her head sank to her shoulders and marched faster across the tilted grounds just to escape his glaring. Despite the persistent beatings he fought through, Kenshiro was the one that helped Yuria leave his brother's peripherals. He was the one to share information about him, the one who continuously used the cold shoulder, Raoh. However, those moments were few and far in between, especially when they pertained to his training.
"Yuria, that's not necessary," Ken interjected but was cut off by Yuria ripping a short strand of medical tape. "Mister Ryuken, you are an odd man to deem this as part of the training," Yuria mumbled after placing the strand on the open end of his bandaged bicep. Her thumb smoothened the open corners to secure it. "Thank you. I appreciate your kindness. But, I'm failing to understand why to go to these lengths." In one of his hands, he held up the ice pack with no understanding as to why it was given.
"Leaving this open and unattended will do more harm than good— you're supposed to press that on your cheek." Glancing at the pack, which began leaking water down his hand, slowly followed her order. From the immense coldness, he yanks it away as if it were a disease sensitive to physical contact. She placed her hands on his, gently urging the boy to put it back on, all the while silently encouraging him to listen through her eyes. Hesitance drained from the way the tension eases from the grit in his teeth.
"There, there," her voice cooed to further give support. These were the few moments Kenshiro accepted her treatment without constant worries of breaking the rules spilling out his mouth. His fingers held the pack loosely now that Yuria held firm support against his hand. A sigh left the boy once he welcomed the cold sensation, easing the persistent pain. She couldn't deny the unspoken attraction that always wants to lure her toward him. Instead of following what her heart cries for, the distance the pillars reinforce is enough for Yuria to give him more than enough space.
"He was far too quick for me to land a single hit. Toki hasn't been the easiest either, but Raoh is on a higher level!" No matter how much dark bruised coloring that'd form on his skin or blood spilled onto the ground, his voice spoke of admiration for Raoh. Both live for different responsibilities yet are intertwined all by their providence. Kenshiro's brother hadn't looked to be charismatic, nor behaved it, so what allure did Raoh have? In contrast, her opinion of Raoh grew constructive, the newly made imagery of the older boy's ruthlessness did nothing to help.
While her thoughts on one of many of Ryuken's disciples weren't quite positive, It had been a little less than a handful of years to see this development. Time would bring more surprises to the young girl. Nor would time wait long to bring such.
Cries from the youthful disciple were heard through the walls following up with heavy fists against one's body. At least, with what Yuria had inferred what happened beforehand. She was not made to be coddled and shielded from harm, her role far discouraged the notion. From the distance, a large slam against the stone ground was more than enough for her to flinch. Has it come from Kenshiro?
A frown grew across her lips. She should've tried convincing the men to ease the pitiless discipline to let his wounds heal. Her pockets' limitations could only have so much capacity before her next step would be carrying a bag, which was far from available. A hand cloth was promptly held tight in her hand.
Morning bored its cape over the sky, allowing the array of clouds to emphasize the sunlight as Yuria made her way towards Hokuto's dojo. Getting closer to the building, she could only pick up faint uneven breathing and gawking. The door creaked loudly the more her hand pressed against it. The sun's light rested against someone, not Kenshiro, leaving spurts of blood across the tiles that hadn't moved anytime. If not for the generous amount of light, she would've opted to bring a candle as a guide. Fingers sprawled across the dirtied floor, how the boy's face was mushed against it, and blood poured from his damaged scalp that began drying were taken note of. It's then she recognizes the beaten and twitching body belonging to Raoh. He, the one that lifts a finger to push Kenshiro onto the floor, is letting out the weakest whimpering within the hollow walls of the dojo.
While her feelings for him remained intact, her values were held even tighter. Kindness was one Yuria excelled at gifting. Clicks of her shoes echoed in the large area when she made her way toward the older boy. Upon closer inspection, pieces of the uniform were ripped which only allowed the girl to speculate on what could've possibly made precise circular cuts.
Bright red scratches were proudly displayed on the upper back, already staining blood around the torn areas of the fabric, it dawned on her how these stains are far and between on his muscles. To find a comfortable position to sit, she strolled to his right side and trailed the cloth over to his cheek. Its texture grazed his skin underneath her touch as Yuria allowed the energy flowing within her to do its work.
Her touch had been compared to silk, and frankly, Yuria hadn't found the words to dismantle it. Removing the cloth off of his cheek, she allowed her fingers to brush across the area. Feeling the area of his skin only made her think of one descriptor: rough. The initial softness she assumed was unable to be found. Her digits softly pressed further to increase the acceleration of her healing.
The girl lightly pulled away and focused on pressing the cloth just onto the middle of his spine. Recovery hadn't scraped the minute mark, before her eyes, the blood coated against Raoh's open wounds was rapidly dissipating. His skin fully covered the wounds as if it wasn't there, to begin with. Procedures were done, her service here was finished and thus she began to stand back up on her two legs. Carefully she treaded along the tiles to suppress the loud clicking of her shoes, however, it seemed futile when a voice startled the quietness. "Who..- Who are you," the raspiness strained his voice, and built-up saliva partially clogged the boy's throat.
Yuria turned to see him, properly this time and looked directly in the eyes. He must've begun moving the instant he was given the ability to, given the boy's struggling to lift his upper body. His lips mouthed a word that wasn't picked up by her, his voice degrading back to a faint strain.
How his eyes widened at the sight of her like she was something otherworldly, maybe even comparable to an angel. Yuria felt a grin grow across her cheeks and gave a hearty giggle. The girl really couldn't help it after seeing how he looked at her, and then her giggling turned into a laugh. Yuria couldn't begin to imagine what effect it would've had on him. Since that fateful day, history had begun to write.
She walked to the corridors that Ryuken welcomed her to, letting the girl know of her limited access to his grounds before heading back to train with Rihaku. Whether it was from the lighting of the room or the well-trimmed beard covering the lower half of his face, she sensed a faint smile. Frankly, Yuria was already feeling a strain on her neck from having to look up at the adults.
Folding the cloth in her hand, she neatly placed it down on her nightstand as the girl hopped up onto the bed. Neatly, organized sheets were immediately crumbled into countless folds by her distribution. A book had been placed on the empty side of her bed. No picture decorated the cover nor the back of it but the calligraphy of the title was enchanting for it to catch her attention. Given her schedule, letting herself relieve herself in a fictional fairytale was all the break she could ask for. The plain blue ribbon that poked underneath the page begged for her to continue where she left off.
Tales of a young woman being swept off her feet by none other than a charming, strong, and intelligent man that'd take on anything for their love to be untouched. A silly but memorizing fantasy for any young girl. Letting herself immerse into the story once more, her mind formed the exciting imagery of the woman's world. Her cheeks grew hot at envisioning the one who'd give the same effect to her. Her destiny was going to be one of Hokuto's disciples; it was fated. Each time further details are shared of the love interest, images float about to form the loving man of a girl's dream in her mind.
The rest of her day was spent helping maintain Hokuto's cleanliness for as long as Ryuken allowed. Further or more difficult-to-manage tasks were pulled from Yuria, their master stating it was not "ladylike" for her. Not like she could work with a clear mindset when she was gushing over scenarios with her one and only. Tomorrow would come with a surprise. Time had not forgotten what she did with it.
Morning phased through the bedroom's curtains and onto the young girl's face, the blazing light stirring her up from her sleep. The covers hide her nose and everything below, allowing her raven-colored locks to sprawl on top. Low humming from the wind and the gentle, far, and faint whispers of the birds welcomed her bright and early. Warmth held from the combination of the bed and her body heat urged her to stay in for a few more minutes. Before she could mentally protest, Yuria had already begun to sit upright. Her eyes still needed more time to adjust from the peaceful rest to operating, phosphenes danced in her vision, and rubbing a hand against them did no favors. Her eyes fluttered open to the first thing that lets her vision rest: the book in her lap.
Night must've laid her down before she could indulge in another five minutes of the next passage. Grogginess continued to swarm, clouding her brain as uncaring as it is. The day couldn't be patient for her when her rest at Ryuken was quickly becoming overstayed. To not further disturb whichever goals the Hokuto master had in mind, it was in her best interest to be out of his way and look forward to her training.
No matter the location, she performed her daily routine like a morning ritual. Her hand twisted the handle and opened to a shadow casting against her. The figure made the girl flinch and direct her eyes up, her grip partially firm on the handle.
The figure's fists were tight, nails were digging into their palm with so much pressure that would've threatened to open cuts. Their clothing had a fresh scent that filled Yuria's nose, shoulder pads securely clipped to the shirt, and a familiar grimace to complete it. Raoh's stance was posturepedic if the downward tilt of his head didn't count. "You must be..!" Yuria felt her words pouring out, though Raoh was always faster. "..Yuria," the older boy grumbled.
"Wh-What?" Her eyebrows scrunched up as she attempted to decipher what he mouthed out. Raoh must've caught onto her confusion with how Yuria felt his gaze fall onto her once more, discarding how he originally wanted this interaction to go. The bridge of his nose was squeezed tighter. "You treated my wounds, why," a booming tone and bite left the eldest disciple. Were deathly quiet and threateningly angry two volumes that can only coexist in his demeanor?
His aggressive message left her flinching again and turning her head away. Maybe the light shadow coated his entire front amplified how scary his appearance can be. Or easier to hide the darkened area around his cheeks. The girl's reaction made the eldest straighten his posture, taking a step back. "If Ryuken were to discover your interception, you would no longer be welcomed near the fighting grounds. But you risked your treatment to heal me. Foolish choice, yet.. laudable," Raoh slowly spoke, like he was trying to carefully pick his words. Yuria's hand on the handle softened.
"I am more than willing to take responsibility for the sake of others. Including yours." Her calmness began settling within the air before their pause began to weigh on the two of them. No means did the girl socialize frequently or too little, though it can't be said for the boy. Where Yuria didn't attempt to make conversation, their silence returned to speak. Despite his passion residing in aiming to be the successor, along with goals that were twisted inside his mind, fear couldn't touch her core.
When she turned back, Raoh's attention went to her things in hand and then to her. Shadows could only mask one's features for so long before their eyes adjust. Have the eldest disciple's eyes always complimented the dark?
"I will accompany you on your way out. In return for what you did for me."
"While it's a very kind offer, I must decline. Hokuto's training is already weighing heavy on your shoulders-"
"Yuria," his voice unwavering, "It's not a request."
The young girl blinked at his reaffirming request or demand. Tone appears to be foreign to the eldest brother. The more she thought about it, the gentlest of smiles appeared on her face. "I suppose it won't hurt. Thank you, Raoh." Before her, the gesture was reciprocated. It was the first time she saw the corner of his lips curl upwards. Yet the moment a second passes, his expression
Blinking once and the world around her resumed to the captivating greenery. Her soft, growing hands returned to her slender ones holding the canvas. Looking at the older boy made the taste in her mouth bittersweet. The earliest memories of the boy filled the comforting feeling of nostalgia in her mind. Nothing could make her forget the afternoons and nights spent with Raoh, whenever the opportunity rose. Her time at the Hokuto school was nearly split between Kenshiro and Raoh, it couldn't have been more apparent to her now.
Their schedules and responsibilities hadn't made visits easy either, which made those moments impactful. Yuria hadn't hidden her distaste for his behavior during training, rather, she was the most upfront about her feelings. Raoh must've taken it into light consideration if he would still make attempts to bypass Ryuken to see her. Arguments were spurred upon the moral of his actions but seemingly came to an unspoken compromise. Her interactions with Kenshiro remained the same, much to the eldest's sharper glares at the younger brother.
The eldest brother always brought a freshly open wound across his bicep or a handful of tiny cuts on his hands. If the day shined differently, a swollen bruise on his pecs would be presented to her. Has she ever seen him without some form of injury when she steps foot on their grounds? Regardless of any suspicions that would form, she took it upon herself to take care of his wounds. No matter how little, the eldest would give a remark pertaining to his brothers' skill levels. How "it was merely false hope for them to think they could best Raoh before crushing the unforeseen idea." Vice versa. Yuria hadn't felt the reason to paraphrase the other instances of Raoh's eagerness.
How his eyes beamed with self-assured delight, a grin stretching across his cheeks with a sinister twist at the corners, speaking in high praise of his progress compared to others, it was no secret to what Raoh is grasping for. His winning streak had no signs of stopping when the eldest is putting everything into becoming the next master of Hokuto Shinken, forcing the other disciples to suffer detrimental wounds. She became one of the many to view the magnum opus levels of one man's ambition.
Years have passed since the two made a connection and their changes didn't go unnoticed. Yuria dawned a lighter-colored lace dress that covered her knees with ruffles that cusped her wrists. With its amplified grace, no assumptions could appear in her head when she caught young men in the corners of her eyes stealing glances. It didn't stop making her face feel hot when the realization spread in her mind, and couldn't bring herself to dislike it. Moreso when one's gaze burned hotter than the rest.
His growth spurt might have doubled his muscle mass when his fingers were as thick as her wrist. The eldest towered to her before at his height, now he didn't need to try to look intimidating. Her head reached somewhere along his chest. One hand could grasp her entire head with the rough digits of his fingers pressing into her skull. Though being a smaller build than the eldest brother allows her to catch details it would be harder for someone like Raoh to miss. Creases that dawned on the man's face had become streaks across a prized sculpture.
Compared to his brothers, Raoh easily overtook height and build. She couldn't pinpoint how defined his figure is when the collared uniform (mostly) hid his bulking. Not that the uniform didn't already cling itself to the eldest brother, squeezing him of his mass enough to where it wasn't skin-tight. Other assets like his biceps and thighs would bulge against the fittings of his clothing. His shoulder pads were determined to mask the curve of his shoulders.
The eldest disciple's growth was everything impressive and above. Admittedly, Yuria had to look away for a few minutes or else the red shade on her face couldn't be excusable. Right when she thought she had everything figured out, another foreign feeling caused her premonitions to crumble.
No matter how many times they've walked down the halls together, or indulged in the small range of pastimes they could share, the man that's made countless disciples fall from the school stayed entertained by whatever activity she wished to partake in. His little brothers would've gladly taken her within their hands, smiling cheek to cheek as Yuria would graciously welcome their affection. She already has. Long before Raoh began his progress with the South star.
One part of his ultimate goal was in the palm of his hands. Not one person could get in the way of this achievement when it was so close.
It would be easy to misinterpret a person's feelings when you're under the influence of your own. If only she had...
Evening bored itself into the sky. Warmth spread on the once blue firmament into a pale tint of orange. Clouds swarmed everywhere but the brightest thing began to set. Its palette painted over the world, and Yuria couldn't turn herself away from indulging in it. Beautiful setting for a calm outing.
Raoh sat firmly against the grass; the eldest brother had leaned down to place the back of his arm on his thigh, for better access of course. The greatest support to lay the injured area was a muscular table. No disinfectant made the aspiring successor tremble. If only Yuria hadn't fumbled the bottle's content when Raoh jerked his hand the first time when she took care of him properly. His younger self was foreign to the liquid.
Her medical box sat comfortably on the grass the breeze flowed through. Straps attached to the sides rested along with the container. Old habits never die, do they? No matter how minor the wound, Yuria wore her frown daily, today would be no different despite her plans. This regular occurrence had not made Raoh falter in the slightest, wherever his mind is.
"Why must you carry another wound in hand when I arrive," Yuria asked with a direct tone while taking out her necessities. "Have your eyes begun to deceive you at this early of an age?" His cold response shot through her. "You've already wrapped your head around it, don't be snarky," concern poured through her words as she began cleaning it. The eldest didn't move an inch when the disinfectant was placed on his bare wound.
"You would dare claim me to be petulant?"
Yuria replied to him by humming, paying more focus to his small injury. When she could feel the top of her head being burned in two nearby spots, she looked up at him. "I wouldn't say that," she said nonchalantly. He lets out a short grunt, choosing not to treat her to a response she could retort with ease.
Her fingers gently held the cotton ball and rubbed around the wound, her other hand holding onto the back of his arm. Her thumb lightly pressed on top, away from the open cut as she was soothing him. Yuria's benevolent manners made his arm tense up before quickly releasing.
"If I had known any better, you were giving yourself these wounds on purpose," a teasing tone coated her words. "Maybe I'm the one being fooled into bantering with a man like yourself."
"Deception does not coincide with my beliefs, nor will it begin to make itself present. Dishonesty to a woman is an action all men would detest."
"Flattery won't dispel my feelings on the matter. But your willingness to change is one that I can't allow myself to pass on," she turns her head up to him. "..It's commendable how far you've grown, Raoh," Yuria spoke with the softest of smiles. Whether it was fueled by her hopes or simply feeling the need to commend his efforts for other motivations, the sight of Raoh's shock was a reward. Identifying subtle changes in one's expressions was an unspoken skill of the woman, and among the many qualities she grew to develop.
His eyes connected with her's for a good, long while as if there was something to find in those ocean-blue irises. His body had gained a significant amount of tension, his arm felt as unmoving as steel in her hands. However, his reaction melted away once he turned his head to the side. She could've sworn she saw his cheeks dusted in red. A low guttural sound of him cleaning his throat snapped her attention straight back to him. The eldest brother quickly turned his face away from Yuria's.
"Have I misspoken?"
"No," Raoh countered, "Not at all." His muttering near the end wasn't picked up. When her eyes still peered through him, he clears his throat once more to keep her attention on him. The woman in front of the lost man adjusted her posture, worry seeping through her features once more as she leaned in close to his face. The eldest brother's thoughts were rampant while the gap was closing in more and more, leaving less space behind. "Perhaps I should've made frequent temperature checks. If you were to get sick now.."
To continue having her close to him.
To feel her contact upon his.
Right within arm's length.
This was aligned with the stars.
Fate had spread fortune to him.
Everything had been spoken.
For him.
The minuscule excuse of a wound had long been forgotten when flipping his arm over to grasp her hand. The thumb rested on the side of her arm as fingers found their places in the area. Lightly gasping at his actions, it was silenced when he trails up along her to intertwine his fingers with hers. Goosebumps shot shockwaves to her nerves. His pace was far more gentle than one could expect from the strong disciple, but it also carried this twinge of nervousness. Like he was pulling himself back to not hurt her by accident. Silence became poison to her throat.
No words had been exchanged the moment Raoh made a move on their relationship. Swallowing thickly, she blinked anxiously at their hands and back onto the eldest brother waiting for her voice to return to her. Throughout her anxious performance, the man in front of her silently awaited a response.
"R-Raoh," she yelps. "W-What are you..?" Before she could stutter another word, Raoh cuts her off as quickly as humanly possible. He tests the vigorously moving waters by tightening his grip by an inch. Her free hand began lowering to her side. After seizing her fidgeting, now she was able to fully hear him with few distractions. "You have burnt your place in my heart. Something I've vowed to cast aside for the sake of inheriting Hokuto."
"From the moment you've healed my wounds," he grabs the free hand and made her place it against his cheek. "When could I forget how a goddess graced her light? It's impossible. Yet if it had been feasible, these emotions began to spring before I had known." Further, the gap was shortening. "Yuria, become the woman to side with the one to take the heavens. You're the woman worthy of embracing a man who will inherit Hokuto Shinken. Soon, everything will fall into my hands, and who else to bear witness to it all but you?"
Feet had become mere inches away from each other, taking in each microscopic detail he could of her face. "I do not want to spend another second apart. Become mine and only mine, Yuria." As he closed his lips, the quietness of the leaves flowing through the breeze became the only sound that decorated the area. Once gentle winds of the forest long passed away. Not even the chirping of insects was in hearing range. But the sounds of Yuria breathing calmly were the loudest to them.
Her hand had been resting on his cheek for a substantial amount of time, she should be letting go right now. She began caressing his skin with her digits trailing lower and lower. Only to rest on his jawline. Her palm ghosted along the heavily defined feature of the older man's. Yuria grazes his cheek, leaning into his ear slowly as though she were caring for a larger animal. "How much have I become a part of you?"
The lightest of clicks, the flicks of her tongue, each syllable struck Raoh to a still. Yuria had started to pull away from him by then to give the eldest disciple another look that lingered much too long. His hand twitched in Yuria's hold. The eternity that they were apart can finally come to a blooming end. Right when he was about to answer her question, her lips brushed on top of his before finally pressing into him, closing her eyes to embrace the moment. Overflowing with the sensation of fullness had sent her body through a multitude of feelings, a deep flush coursing through her body. Yuria slid her hearty lips into his chapped, plump surfaces like a brandished key entering a slot. Lightly grazing dried cuts along his bottom lip without internal disgust. The minty sweetness of her lip balm had inundated Raoh's resilience.
Not long after her bold action, Raoh gave into the fluttering embrace and reciprocated hungrily. Half-lidded eyes looked along her face once more before joining her in the darkness of their eyelids, letting passion become their sight. The key twists further into the hole, locking the two in place. Pressing eagerly into hers, making Yuria let out a breathy purr from the change in lead. His hands had snaked their way onto her hips and gripped each side with subdued desire. The eldest was pressing further, and further, and further against her. Desire flooding rationality. Craving more of her taste painting over his.
Although as kindly as Yuria could phrase it,
Raoh was
really,
really,
really inexperienced.
Not that she didn't have just as much experience, however, but the harsh pinches and tugging were bound to bruise. It quickly became suffocating. She whimpered from the continuous force and tried signaling him by tugging at his sleeve. Slowly, she pulled away just enough to whisper. "Too much.." Then Yuria returned to capture the metallic taste across her tongue.
Her hands found their place on both of his cheeks, gently pulling Raoh back in. Raoh was a far larger man than the South Star, that was no secret, proportions engulfed her petite figure without fault. Yet this new surge gave her more power than Raoh could have ever mastered. Each time they've pulled apart, wet clicks fill the quiet void within their minds. Once, twice, it far became intoxicating for either one to sober up.
What felt close to an eternity had passed before they finally pulled away from each other after dispersing the little amounts of oxygen they had. The woman's eyes fluttered open to a pleasured Raoh. Blush darkened across his features, tension twisting his nose bridge, and his kiss-swollen lips apart. No other words were exchanged except the drained, heavy breathing after such entanglement. His pectorals rose up and down at a slowed rate.
Suddenly, Raoh's thumbs pressed against Yuria's stomach, urging her to lie down on the grass and allow him more access to her. Allow each other to become further entangled, after burying his feelings for so long. Patience was waning thin and he wasn't going to starve himself further. Her body only obeyed him for a few seconds before she firmly grabbed his hands, halting any more movement. The grip on her sides applied more pressure when she stopped his advancements.
She swallowed thickly before explaining herself to the man on standby. "It's too early. Forgive me for stopping, but I'm not ready to advance in a.. intimate stage this quickly." There was no reason to feel the need to apologize for setting boundaries other than overcompensating for what Raoh may feel. Her experiences with men were little to none and this couldn't have been made more prevalent with the situation at hand. Although it wouldn't take long to know men would have far drastic differences in mindset and desires. She could be too kind for her good, but if it means avoiding needless aggression by gently denying further advancements, so be it. Yuria may carry naivety but she wasn't as easily influenced as others may believe. Far from it.
Favorably, the eldest disciple withdrew his hands from her, allowing the woman to readjust herself and straighten her posture. "Please excuse my sudden departure," Yuria stood up from the ground while padding her dress. "Kenshiro's waiting by the school's entrance. We've promised to meet to go over our teachings." Raoh swiftly stood up when his name was (dared) mentioned. By the time she looks up, one large shadow is painted over her figure and the only thing bright amongst his body were his eyes.
Cold, sharp, sneering pupils that could bore into a person's essence like an all-ruling judge. Equally, traits of the eldest brother and an unmoving figure of authority were beginning to intertwine, least of all what she picked up on. Uncharacteristic for the prince she'd always fantasized about as a young child, although most things don't fall perfectly aligned with expectations. It so happened the one to swoop her off of her feet was a man who wore multiple faces, except one that showed his barest form to her.
"Kenshiro," Raoh repeated, as though he wanted confirmation. She responds quickly with a nod, "Yes. Making assumptions over a congenial meeting won't ease your suspicions any better." Course the South Star's last sentence was inferring the tight fist Raoh held on his side. "If I had felt more closely with Ken, I wouldn't have allowed you my first kiss." Yuria's shoulders subconsciously lost the little amount of tension before she would've noticed when his fist fell, a grin creeping along his face. Something devious sparked inside his mind, none of which would be shared. He looked far different from how he was moments ago.
"What a foolish doubt to carry," before Yuria could question what he was referring to, Raoh carried on. "Go and depart with Kenshiro. Discuss amongst yourselves, get comfortable, and spend time with him. Let him see how his eldest brother claimed the South Star's beloved flower of lotus." He began to walk away from the woman, bellowing in a boastful manner with a toothy smile. "Sooner or later, you'll open your eyes to his antics. Look for yourself, Yuria! Set aside your ignorance before I become the rightful master of Hokuto Shinken and seize what the world has been destined to give to me!"
Indescribable emotions twirled within her mind as his words seeped through her ears as he was slowly disappearing from her view, shadows of the school swallowing him whole. The past tenderness his eyes held before her when they embraced, how was he able to snap back into the cold boy years ago? This conjured persona of Raoh's has its impact wrapped around Yuria's mind.
Nevertheless, she mustn't allow herself to get carried away with his character. Long before she could visualize the ideal prince, she made a personal vow to always put everything she can into keeping the relationship strong. She had to tell herself to give the eldest brother well-deserved faith and trust. To be considerate of one's feelings means devoting the time to understanding and thinking of their perspective.
For his sake, she partially took his words face-valued.
Long after Raoh departed from the forest, and packed up her personal belongings that rested on the grass, she did meet with Kenshiro. Dark, wavy brown locks gorgeously blew in the breeze as he wore a gentle smile at her. Cobalt blue eyes emanated a strong sense of warmth beneath them, immediately sending wave upon waves of the familiar friendliness he always carried.
She couldn't help but compare the drastic differences between the two brothers. The youngest always wore benevolence on his sleeves, practically the most open about his compassion to others while Raoh is far more intricate, in expressing what makes a human-human. Rather, struggling to come to terms with those emotions. Yuria could feel herself already returning a small smile to him, "I haven't kept you long waiting, have I?"
"Don't worry about that. We can never fully expect what could change the day's course. My only concern was your safety."
"Please don't trouble yourself with all that. You know I tread as carefully as I can for you," she giggled.
"Then that washes away any worries I had."
"Shall we begin conversing while we saunter there?"
"You may lead the way, Yuria," he spoke warmly.
Side by side, the two began to stroll toward the building across the main hall. Her heart was at its calmest state and fluttered with sparks of bliss. Whenever Kenshiro would add to the conversation or start a new topic, Yuria always gave her utmost attention to listening to him. Watching. Noting how long his lashes are, how perfectly straight his nose is shaped, the light definition of his cheekbones, and how his upper lip is slightly thinner than his bottom. Whether she welcomed this feeling or not, nothing could be described other than feeling like they were predetermined to be together. However, if anything like this were to be brought up, Yuria would be quick to dismiss it. Her heart has already been swayed by a different man.
One that has been peering at them from above behind a balcony with another familiar man next to him. With arms crossed, he firmly stood against the tiled ground like a hawk perched on top of a fence post. He was inching closer and closer to completing what he's always wanted within his hands. The other man beside him could only look at his stubbornness as something he'd have to break on his own. What the man was feeling was nowhere near being described as ambitious, but...
Her relationship with Raoh since that day had stayed on a steady path with a couple of rocks sticking out of the narrow path, but otherwise a very strong companionship. Especially during a time when the eventual deciding successor would not be Raoh, which would spawn a multitude of complications- from his other, less-mannered brother and what would spur on the violence towards others. Despite keeping a composed manner, he was almost unconsolable with the increasing distance he'd wedge into their relationship. Through this difficult time, Raoh's younger brother offered as much support as he could to a hurting South Star. To further showcase his benevolence to the woman, her hand gently opens up to hold a small wrapped gift. Yuria had looked toward him, only to focus on reading his lips when she could faintly hear what he said. From what she could decipher, it was a gift she could open when he couldn't be there to comfort her. Truly, she couldn't thank Kenshiro enough.
His gift wouldn't have its string undone before humanity became a victim of itself. When nuclear warfare broke all across the world, engulfing the planet's plentiful source of nature into nothing but ash and dry cracked soil. Memories beyond this event had only remained as snippets now.
Raoh was nowhere to be found.
Yuria went to exceeding lengths to find him, only to be stopped by Toki.
Soon the two met Kenshiro and began driving across the city for shelter.
There were only so many people that could fit in. The radiation was hastily approaching the bunker.
The compassionate North Star sacrificed his body to save her and Kenshiro.
But even the smallest slip of the nuclear waste would react horribly with Yuria's body,
Her illness had laid dormant until the fallout amplified its effect.
Yuria would never speak a word of it.
Before she could let herself escape the ever-growing realm of her reminiscing, Yuria constantly needs to keep reminders of how each event had occurred. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to recall not a single crucial detail like before.
The landscape around her had quickly transformed into a desert, decorated with harsh winds of dust and large mountains of rock far within her peripherals. Accompanying her was none other than Kenshiro, walking alongside the woman in case she were to collapse onto the starved soil beneath her.
She would quickly be swarmed with sounds of eager bandits, each grinning wide and exposing their excitement for malicious deeds, who served none other than one of the South Stars: Shin. Her throat was hoarse from crying mercy to stop him from harming Ken any further. It strained her chords when she had to kiss his feet and say that she loved him.
Taken away from the only person she was familiar with (and held dear to her heart), rich jewelry and the finest clothing became nothing more than a doll's accessories to her. Why not add a tint of blush to her cheeks when given the opportunity? It felt like a mock-up of a luxurious lifestyle. No matter how firmly she retaliated against Shin's wishes, a part of her heart held strongly to Kenshiro- hoping he was alive.
Then the words: "Ken-oh" shook the South Star's palace to its core. Panic began rushing through each of his units and generals. But, the news of Kenshiro's status was enough to make her escape. Tearing off the pearled necklace and tossing it aside in their room, she needed none of it.
Within the abandoned train stations, seeing tens if not hundreds of decomposed corpses of once living and breathing people struck her emotions. Yuria still kept a stable pace toward the exit.
Until a large hand beneath firmly gripped the metal shutters and yanked it up. Light cast against the figure, its shadow covering Yuria completely. Before familiarity could settle in, dread still kept a vacant place in her stomach.
Right before her, the great "Ken-oh" at Shin's palace stood before her with piercing eyes.
Raoh.
Yuria couldn't believe what her eyes were seeing. His cape draped across his back, flowing through the wind behind him. Gold decorated across his armor and worn by a man she couldn't find recognition in his eyes. So similar yet so different from the one she fell in love with.
This reunitement would be kept on hold until Ken-oh finished what he had planned to do since someone other than himself had taken what was his.
The rest had written itself.
No matter how much gold would decorate the delicate parts of her body, the adornment poured in each pezzottaite encased, none could outshine the dull weariness in Yuria's expression. Her hand was carefully raised to graze the golden collar around her throat. Gentle pricks and an array of gems that sprawl down her collarbone never made Yuria forget who she belonged to.
Her jewelry had variety, unlike the Conqueror's Red Beryl-riddled helmet. Ruby was often described to be the "king of gemstones". Yet a title like that wouldn't be held in any regard by the man. Raoh's delicacies were far higher in quality than what Shin could ever achieve. Once again, she dons the prettiest handcuffs in another spacious prison. The red dress was worn tightly around her shape, leaving less to a person's imagination.
When his hands engulfed her form, surges of hope filled her body, and graciously fell into his hands- not noticing the strings attached to her back. While their bedroom had more space than Shin's bedchambers, the cold titles and rough unevenly bricked walls were a hassle. At least the palace had been kept polished, refined, and clean throughout. The only woman she ever saw was the one in the mirror. Long ago, she had given up on keeping Raoh's castle continuously tidy when the dark corners of the rooms festered with mold. Nor could she be allowed to step out of her room.
If certain circumstances were to be met, then Yuria would be permitted to leave their bedroom. However, the only times she would be allowed a breath of fresh air is to attend dinner when Raoh had the patience, and… frankly other activities she couldn't bring herself to mention. How many times had she had to wash her hand cloth drenched in blood? His men, if they lived long, would be riddled with wounds.
Not one minor piece of significance did any of her pastimes hold up. Dinners were often surrounded by the most fragile eggshells the lightest touch could potentially create a domino effect. The effect of Raoh's levels of aggression. Most of the time she had to depend on reading his unmoving expressions and inflictions of his voice.
The silence was not welcomed as a main conversation starter. Instead, the immense pressure that boiled fire within his eyes pushed her to make small pleasantries. Struggle often clashed with her lack of range in topics and led her to even create chatter over what she found the slightest interesting. Much to her surprise, the stoic conqueror approved of these. Only then would she feel dread pooling against her back when she was stuck, and being seated next to the largest man within the wasteland did not ease her worries.
Frequently she had to reread her little pile of salvaged books or allow daydreaming to pass hours at a time. Greenery and the Earth's fleeting beauty stayed as a great source of comfort. Yuria couldn't wish enough for the dreamscape she created to be the place she could stay forever and ever. Curtains drew back the only window within her cushioned cell. Clouds scoured the warm sunset that was cast below the barren wasteland outside. With her feet glued to the firm tiled ground, there was no guess for when she would meet the soil again.
Numerous bars got in the way of the only scenic view on display, time and time again. How many times will her eyes trail over each corner of the sturdy bars and quietly count in her mind? Her hand fished out the beautifully crafted necklace from her dress and held it in her hands. Compared to the amount of gold painting her body, nothing would ever replace the sentimental gift from Ken. She could've sworn her digits grazed against initials carved at the back. Whenever she wished to reminisce on simpler times, all it takes is a gift from Raoh's kind brother. Alas, she hides it inside her dress once more.
Anything to keep her mind stimulated was nowhere to be found, often finding herself bouncing her leg as she wandered in her luxurious cell. Far and few between her stay, she'd creak the door open only to be swiftly interrupted by one of Ken-oh's guards, shutting down any attempt at making her day eventful. However, it wasn't like she hadn't slipped past with their help. Though she could only infer that today couldn't be the day to push any more luck. If anything, she felt the most excitement tending to the men's wounds and chatting amongst them. Just the thought of conversing had cracked the largest and most joyous smile across her lips.
Oh.. she needed to indulge more often if thinking about socializing with one other human being if it gets her this avid. Perhaps later in the day, they can fill in Yuria on how they've been doing.
The bedframe creaked beneath her, her heels clicking against the ground as she adjusted herself. Regardless of how frequently or little the bed has been used, nothing could withstand the mass of the other participant. That was evident. Despite its coldness, it wouldn't be long till it regains its warmth again. Its sheer size engulfed her size and wouldn't give her the opportunity to measure her half of the bed with one arm. She weighed as much as a feather on top of the scrunched-up sheets. Fingers gripped the properly-salvaged duster on the nightstand right beside it and began polishing the surface.
Gracefully and daintily, fading clouds of dust dissipated after being swept off. Small, insignificant, and tangible pieces would clear away from the surface. She'd then stand up to face the bed properly. Repeatedly, the woman would make extra turns in the inner corners of the (poor) mattress, sheets, and blankets, and carefully take off pillowcases to clean underneath. Her daydreaming has become a dangerous habit and hasn't found a reason to stop, or the care to forbid it. Cleaning was something so consistently done, it could be done without little to no thinking. Before time could fast forward through the day, a loud thump in the distance made her freeze.
Their bed had been neatly made with smoothened-out sheets, nightstands were nearly spotless, and the table in the middle of the room was swiped clean. Its mockery of a traditional "lifestyle" stared back into her as she frantically eyeballed the different areas of the room, checking. Closer, louder, the thumping grew. With as much calmness as she regained, her legs moved her toward the side of the door. A pair of lighter feet moved away from the entrance, soon bursting open to reveal who interrupted. Cold air seeped into her nose and clogged her throat; the stench of death enveloping the large figure. The dried metallic iron that is no doubt faintly on his armor, blood that's not his. Who else could make a welcoming presence like
Lord Ken-Oh.
The hulking size of a man donned his infamous golden helmet with two spikes curved like bull horns, a large flowing red cloak, two large shoulder pads, armor along his body, and boots that only amplified those thundering steps that demanded his presence to be worshiped. Just what kind of man did she...
Her questioning had halted when she felt his piercing eyes fall on her. The door behind him shut loudly. Yuria clasped her hands together and looked straight ahead. "Welcome home, my lord," she spoke the daily chant and bowed. For any title she could've been demanded to obey, 'Lord' did not settle well on her tongue.
Her attention turns to his face masked by the helmet's structure. So cruel, so engraved with deep wrinkles and complexion dirtied by the wasteland. Quietly, she makes her way toward him, attempting to get on her toes, and plants a faint kiss on the corner of his lips. A frown grew. She could hear the low rumble of his voice but it would be left undisclosed.
Her hands began to quickly work on detaching the shoulder pads, fingers swiftly unlatching the heavy armor one by one. There was an armor rack near the table for her to put away his equipment. Despite the immense weight making her arms scream, his expectations made the underlying fear in Yuria's mind ignore the pain. His cloak had been folded in a swift, precise manner and laid on top of the table. Her final task of taking his helmet off had made her examine the subtle changes in his face.
"How was your day," her gentle voice filled the empty room. Silently, he began making his way toward the bed. "It was fine." However, it looked like something caught Raoh's eye. His sights snapped back to her, stomping back to Yuria who had been taken back by the sudden action. Raoh's pause made the pounding in her heart intensify. "Take it out."
"..What?"
Raoh's glare hardened. "Do you take me for a fool? I've never given you a necklace."
The necklace left her mind when she was cleaning.
Hesitantly, her hands fished out the necklace for Ken-Oh to grab himself. With no warning, no hesitation to take it for himself. His fingers held the front piece with a tightened grip, making sure it did not slip out of his hand. Then it falls back onto her chest. "Now give it to me." Obediently, and calmly, Yuria takes it off and hands it to him. Now Ken-Oh has full reign over the foreign object. The South Star stood as still as possible while he continued his inspection. His fingers feel the bottom of the jewelry, movements slowed as he tried to trace the indention. The necklace is flipped onto its front, giving Raoh a full view of what was carved from the outer shell.
Once he looked back at Yuria, her heart had sunk.
He looked at her as if she was the most hideous, incomprehensible monster in the wasteland. An overwhelming amount of disgust and burning anger bloomed over his face.
Utter disgust.
With one hand, Ken-Oh roughly pushes her against the bed. She immediately braced herself for the impact, shutting her eyes and holding her arms together. Her back hits the mattress hard enough to make her let out a gasp. Before she could lift herself, the crushing force of Raoh's weight pressed against her allowed fear to take over. The firm tightness in the muscles of his fist emitted an audible flex. Dark eyes drew holes through her skull. His shadow swallowed her entire figure, hiding the woman from the light. The conqueror before her drank in the size difference between the two by the way it was used against her.
"Kenshiro is the one you want?!" Ken-oh roared. Nothing about his proclamation had any hint of hesitation. His words held an immense amount of bite. There was no way he could hide his anger when speaking of his brother's name on his tongue.
"No, Raoh! This isn't what it is," Yuria quickly interjected. It wasn't just a gift, but it didn't mean her heart had changed. Regrettably, despite the ruthlessness Raoh had allowed into his shut-in heart, she desperately held onto the good she saw. Kenshiro reminded her of a time before everything came crumbling down. Kenshiro had swarmed her mind when Raoh became the wasteland's conqueror... Perhaps, it does mean something more. "I've never been unloyal to you. Not once."
"Then show me."
"I will do just that. I will show you how much I belong to you."
By now, Yuria had been used to his regular outbursts. While the initial fear had fluttered in her stomach, it again falters and soon dissipates as she puts herself on display. Gently, she lifts her head and brushes her nose against his. Rough, sharp, and everything that contrasted with her softer features. Soon her lips began teasing his. Her bottom lip touched his upper, feeling the noticeably cut and dried texture. By then, it was almost something she enjoyed feeling when she could envelop him. But her parted lips gave Ken-oh the invitation to reclaim what's his. He wasn't going to lose an important piece to his conquest. Or be teased of its reward.
Raoh was the first to have Yuria open up, but his younger brother had stolen her heart. The warmth in her eyes that only Kenshiro could bear witness to. To see his younger brother's hand wrapped around a woman who belongs to him did nothing but infuriate the eldest. Being forced to yearn to watch from afar had not stirred Raoh's disapproval to let Yuria interact with a man far unworthy of her.
Once the world was engulfed in nuclear warfare, and bestowing the new title of Ken-oh, nothing was restricting the man to reaffirm his claim upon her. No matter how impure she's become, as long as she's beside the century's rightful ruler, that's all that matters.
His lips smashed into hers which knocked the air out of Yuria. The chapped taste of his lips locked her in place. Overwhelming fullness was being pressed against her smaller pair, demanding her attention to be restored. Familiar tastes of copper smeared on top of hers, only imploring Ken-oh to reign further into his twisted proclamation of 'love'. Eyes burning into her gaze, as if telling her "if you look away from me, you will die". Increasingly, he presses more of his weight down. Raoh's bone-crushing grip began tightly pressing down on the bed with both hands, reaffirming the cage set on top of her. For the first time, she began to look at Raoh from a completely different perspective.
His once enveloping taste had been spoiled; tarnished. The crushing weight made the woman wince, opening her mouth further.
The South Star's shock made the bulbous size of his tongue invade hers. Its size caused her throat to close, nearly suffocating her by the invading organ. Yuria's heart was ready to burst open her chest from the amount of pounding, the only sound she could hear in the room. Silence tore a knife and sliced parts of her body, tension not allowing her to move a single limb. Ken-oh emitted rough and low groans, savoring the only one having pleasure in this exchange. Yuria forced herself to only focus on the deep rumblings of his voice to ignore the thumping against her chest.
Visions of her as a child reading the once memorable book resurfaced. Dreams, fantasies, and hopes of a prince. What she tied herself to was the villainous knight, and perhaps that was her true guilty pleasure. Her childish fantasies twisted into craving the possessive nature of men. An awakening, so to speak. Time was lost on her when the familiar click rang when Raoh pulled away ever so slightly, fully embracing Yuria's beauty before him. Beauty that belonged to him and only him.
She could feel the sick grin across the man before her. "Do you remember when you embraced me? Giving into your true desire for me? The sickening sweetness of your taste was an addiction."
Her silence urged him to continue, his lips lowering on top of hers once more. The now-growing arrogance filled his voice. "Could Kenshiro please you like this? No, a weak man like him couldn't imagine what you must feel," he assured. The more he shrouded his lips on hers, the more impatient he was to rid his younger brother's influence.
Raoh was lapping up his advances, relishing her. "What your body does to mine... He couldn't fathom how delectable The South Star is." Raoh's hand trailed behind her back and forcibly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her in. "Raoh," she murmured in a surprised tone. Her hands caressed his firm chest, tracing fingers along the curves and weight of his pecs. Ken-Oh was truly a remarkable beast.
Raoh's complicated infatuation for the woman bearing the star of compassion had twisted his mind, festering and boiling darkly inside the conqueror's stomach. It began to tear apart his insides feverishly the more Yuria interjected herself into his biggest ambition: seizing the heavens. This selfishness was born from this woman; this temptress lured him, grasping him tightly to satiate his inner cravings. With one swoop, the crushing force of his fist will claim what has always been his. Wearing the widest, most sinister grin one fearsome vanquisher could don.
"Before you attempt to step a foot out of this room, the only name you will remember is Lord Ken-Oh and only that."