FlourishingVA

The strike sounded like the cracking of a whip, causing the room to fall silent.

Fumiko grabbed her cheek, her skin instantly reddening. She stared up at Gyutaro, the sting of humiliation worse than the bruise starting to form. Biting her lip, she tried to hold back the tears starting to prick her eyes.

He met her gaze, chest starting to heave. “I didn’t mean to –”

He moved to grab her, but his hand was swatted away. 

“....don’t touch me…”

He stiffened, his stomach starting to knot. That was the first time she had rejected him.  He reached for her again, only for her to shrink away.

“ …I said don’t touch me...”

He looked down at Fumiko. Her shoulders were drawn up to her ears and her hand, still resting on her reddened cheek, was trembling. Her pupils were narrowed into slits, brows drawn together. 

Bile started to rise in his throat as an alien feeling took over. Guilt.

He hadn’t meant to hit her;  it was a reactionary response. Roused from where he lay dormant inside of his sister, the sound of the two women arguing set him off on an adrenaline rush. Still lethargic and half conscious, the only thing he had remembered upon waking was Fumiko scolding his beloved baby sister – an act that could not go unpunished.

He reached for her a third time, earning a growl in response.

"Don't touch me!"

His lip curled as he watched the demoness’s pathetic display of anger. Her futile attempt to look intimidating was negated by the fact that she was hugging herself as though she were a frightened child. Bared fangs did not match teardrops clinging to dark lashes.

She had no right to be upset at him. At them.

The way his sister treated her kamuro was her business. Who did this wretch think she was to defy her?

Fumiko was retreating, back pressed up against the window.

Gyutaro’s vision started to go black. She was going to run.

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as the window creaked open, his mind racing to justify his actions. Why should he be the one taking the blame for this? If she hadn’t been so adamant about defending the younger girls in the brothel, none of this would have happened. Those girls should mean nothing to her, the only ones she should care about should be him and his sister. 

Fingers digging into his palms, he watched as she escaped out the window into the darkness.

This was all her fault.

His mind fought against itself. One part of him wanted to swallow his pride and run after her, grovelling for forgiveness that he didn't deserve. Another wanted to drag her back to the brothel and sentence her to time in the obi until she learned her place.

A smaller part wanted to let her go, giving the demoness her freedom.

He stared down at his palms, skin still stinging from where he had struck her. If he could commit such an act of violence against her, what else was he capable of?

Calloused hands scrubbed at the tears streaming down his sunken cheeks. He was a fucking monster.

Gyutaro starred out the open window from where Fumiko had made her escape. He wanted nothing more than for her to slip back through it's frame into the safety of the brothel. To take him in her arms and dry his tears on her sleeves. To stroke his hair and soothe him in her gentle way and affirm that she will never leave him.

He had to see her. He didn't know what he would do when he found her, but he couldn't let her go.

Following after her, he began his chase.

AN: Even when he knows he's in the wrong, Gyutaro will find a way to asuage himself of guilt by placing blame on others for his actions. What a guy 💖

And of course Fumiko will take him back. The codependent freaks cannot be separated. (But girlie really needs to grow a backbone and make him grovel at her feet instead of just brushing off his mistreatment.)