#f.reader

"Fuck!" You swore, bent over the desk of your boss.

Your breasts pressed against the surface of the desk, cheek against the wood grain as you felt his cock in your cunt. It felt far too good, truly, just laying there as Kirishima slammed into you. His hands were on your wrosts, pulling back as he buried his cock into you over and over again. You knew this was wrong. You knew it from the moment you had started this. He was married. He had kids. Yet you had become addicted to what he could do to you.

"Thats right. Fuck is right, babygirl." Kirishima grunted, red gaze watching your ass jiggle from his thrusts.

You were a moaning mess under him, mascara running down your face from tears at just how good Kirishima felt. Tears that Kirishima thought you looked good with. Your black pencil skirt pushed up to your waist and your white shirt was unbuttoned halfway down with your breasts spilling out of that black lace bra. Kirishima felt you tighten around his cock, groaning as it spurred him on to just fuck you harder.

"God! Fuck! Kiri!" You whined, "Right there! Please! Please, sir!"

You practically sobbed, feeling his cock hit your sweet spot. Kirishima leaned forward, inspecting your hickey covered neck before sinking his teeth in again. A loud gasp left your lips, "Kiri!" You cried out. You just wanted to chase that high, pushing the fact that his wife had been here just earlier out of your mind. After all, you knew it was wrong. You just didn't care.

"Cum around my cock, go ahead. Do it, sweetheart." Kirishima ordered, "Cum with me."

You let out another moan, letting a shrill "yes!" leave your lips. You were so close you were sobbing. You just wanted to cum, you just wanted to feel him cum. Was that so wrong? You didn't care if it was, feeling his cock slam into that spot over and over, stretching you open. Hell, practically splitting you open.

"Daddy!" You screamed, your walls tightening around his cock.

Kirishima groaned loudly, the new title spurring him on even more than "sir". "Fuck." He growled, rutting his hips against your ass, every thrust sounding loudly in the office. He nodded, "Yeah, I'm your fucking Daddy. Splitting that cunt wide open on my cock. Just like you deserve, such a good fucking girl."

You felt the orgasm rip through your body, screaming and sobbing in pleasure as you laid limp on ghe desk. You heard Kirishima let out a guttural, low moan as you came on his cock. He didn't slow down or stop, speeding up his thrusts, fucking his cock into you through your orgasm. Kirishima finally stilled inside of you, his cock twitching and erupting knside of you. You squealed, feeling the thick liquid pour into you. Kirishima began pulling out, still cumming. Both in and on your cunt, eyes lit up with satisfaction as he saw his cum dripping out of your cunt. You rolled over, your legs spread so he could have a better look. Kirishima smirked, watching a dopey smile spread across your face before looking back down to your cum covered groin. He reached down, slapping your clit before rubbing it. You lowly moaned.

You quickly took off your apron and tossed it in your locker and grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. Snatching your crutch, you placed it under your shoulder and sighed when you lifted your foot and relieved it of your weight. 

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself before you’re hobbling your way out of the locker room, through the main lobby all the way to the entrance. You shouted to whoever may be around still, be it lingering coworkers or your boss, before you slid open the door and left. With a small show of your balance, you pushed the door shut with your crutch as you stood on your one good leg before bringing the crutch back down where it needed to be. 

You sidle to the right away from the entrance, just out of reach for the hanging lamps to cast a shadow over you when you take a shaky breath. You found yourself paranoid in the early morning hours- but, you couldn’t blame yourself. The last time you were out this late after a shift, you almost died. You took a deep breath, then another… then another. You try calming yourself down, convincing yourself that what happened was a once-in-a-lifetime freak accident and there was no way you’d be unlucky enough to get caught up in something like that again. 

“It’s fine,” you tell yourself. “I’m fine,” you repeat. The palm you used to grab the handle of your crutch felt sweaty, so you took it off for a moment and furiously wiped it on your shirt before returning it.  “You’re going to be fine,” you hiss to yourself, looking down at your feet, one uninjured and the other replaced with a crutch foot. The same feet that still wouldn’t move despite your pep talk. 

Stuck in your mental battle on when you’re finally going to get your limbs to start taking you home, you completely miss the person walking up behind you until they call out to you. 

“Is your ankle in much pain?” 

You squawk, your crutch jumping out away from your leg and making your teeter before correcting yourself and using your other arm to reach across your body and grab onto the medical addition to your body in further stability. Whipping your head up, you once again come face to face with Rengoku. Still smiling, even if there’s a hint of concern in his wide eyes since he didn’t exactly mean to spook you. You also took notice of his arms that were outstretched and ready to catch you if you began careening down to the pavement.

You correct your posture and face him, feeling embarrassed for a number of reasons. 

“I’m slated to never have a normal greeting with you, am I?” You speak more to yourself than him since every time you’ve encountered him so far- not including when he was a paying customer not so long ago- has been riddled with embarrassment or fear. You’ve come face to face with him three times now, and you conducted yourself better in front of Kocho who you had met once and stripped down to your bones in front of. “What are you still doing out at this hour?” 

“I am doing a simple round of patrols for this sector of the city,” he tells you and your eyes finally drift down to see the white sheath on his hip supported by the harness he wore on his chest and over his shoulders- the same items he had when you first saw him. Seeing them again made a lump form in your throat that you tried to choke down. You felt a bit stupid for the question because what else would he be doing out this late when you’ve seen first hand what could happen. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you shake your head and scoff at yourself, “I could’ve guessed.” 

“No need to apologize!” That didn’t exactly reassure you. Rengoku was good at reading people, he spent a lot of time doing so among his years, so your unsteady and somewhat jittery presence did not fly over his head. “Are you heading home?” 

“Planning on it, yeah.” 

“It’s much earlier than last time, that is good!” 

“It was a slow night so we closed down earlier.” 

“Would you like an escort home?” 

“An escort?” Your words were short as you confirm what he’s just asked you. Part of you hates that he basically just told you that he can see your paranoia and anxiousness as clear as day. You glance away and gnaw at your lip, conflicted. You most certainly didn’t want to walk home alone, the nightmarish memories haunting you like a... well like a demon. But you also didn’t want to appear fragile because you couldn’t walk home like you had a thousand times before. 

You take a deep, shaky breath as Rengoku steps closer to you, his hair lighting up further as he gets closer to the hanging lanterns behind you. The colors and shades nearing the light resembling a warm campfire to keep woodland terrors at bay. A safe beacon.

“It is not wrong to be afraid.” 

“I'm not!” You instinctively argue back, but immediately bite your own tongue realizing that raising your voice at his kindness was most certainly rude. However, even a two year old could tell that your words were clearly a lie. You sigh again, apologizing for your outburst. “Yes, I am,” you admit more to yourself than to him.

Rengoku just smiles down at your averted eyes and moves to stand beside you before gently slipping your purse off your shoulder and slotting it up his arm to rest on his own. He outstretched his opposite arm as he caught your eyes again and gently signaled you to start moving at your own pace. 

“Allow me to walk you home then.” With him already having taken your purse and gestured his intent to not be swayed on his decision, you smirk teasing up at him and chuckle. 

“Arguing won’t get me anywhere, will it?” 

Not that you really wanted it to.

“It will not!” Well, at least he was honest. 

The walk back was relatively quiet, save for the nighttime crickets that chirped along with the toads hidden away in corners. The sounds of the cicadas had lessened from this afternoon to a dull buzz instead of mind-numbing shrills. You kept taking glances at Rengoku, your purse hanging off the shoulder closest to you as you hobbled along on your crutches. You could barely see the tip of his sword's hilt from around him without being too obvious you were even looking to begin with. He must’ve kept it as horizontal to his leg as possible to avoid catching whatever riff-raff attention could be mangling around. 

“Does something interest you?” Apparently, you weren’t as sneaky as you thought. You shoot your gaze forwards, nearly stumbling on your set of extra rubber feet and clearing your throat, the summer air suddenly way too dry for the humid season. 

“I just, well, I didn’t think you’d notice?” You tell him honestly. He chuckles at your words and you feel a little better since he doesn’t sound freaked out by your clearly awkward behavior. “I guess I was a little curious about your, what do you call it, second job? The whole,” you lift one of your crutches, stopping your movements momentarily as you whip it around and grunt (rather embarrassingly) before putting it back down, “sword job thing?” 

He laughs before letting out a small “Ah!” in recognition of your curiosity. Maybe it was because of the early hours, but part of you feared an apartment window flicking on in response to his boisterous laughter. Still, you easily admitting to yourself that it was a lovely sound. 

“Curiosity may not be the wisest decision when it is about what goes on after the sun sets. Sometimes, it’s best that people believe demon’s are nothing but fictional stories made up simply to spook children.” 

“Oh,” you were a little disappointed. You had already been attacked and injured, it’s not like you’d call him a liar if he told you. “I see.” You still wanted to know more, even if it was terrifying. With your crestfallen expression and new goal to just get home without creating an uncomfortable atmosphere, you missed the small look the flame-haired man gave you. 

“Regardless of my skills, being out so late at night can be dangerous for anyone,” he starts, eyes casting forwards once more as he continues to lead you home. “There are many kinds of demons under the moon, and some can be more ferocious than others. If one catches sight of myself or another of my…” he pauses to find a decent word. “... coworkers,” he decides on, “chances are split that they flee from us, or do the opposite and begin a confrontation if they’re feeling particularly omnipotent.” 

That small piece of information made you feel a little better about his choice to stay quiet about it all, his choice to disclose that even he wasn’t always 100% safe was bone chilling. Still, it did not soothe your curiousity completely. You decided to shake it off, you were acting like a child- it wasn’t your business and this man was nothing more than a stranger you’ve run into a couple times. The fact he literally saved your life had nothing to do with it- you had to let it go. 

It was rude to pry. 

“Perhaps when we get to your home I can answer your questions there.” You stop in your limping steps as you look at him. He was smiling at you, something warm and comforting and you seemed to light up. “That is if I would be allowed inside a young woman’s house at this hour.” 

“Of course!” Perhaps you were too loud because you immediately covered your mouth with one hand, nearly dropping one of your crutches. You look around, seeing no light flick on and no windows opening to yell for you to keep it down. You lower your hand, a small smile on your face as you clear your throat. “Of course,” you repeat, much more quietly this time. “As long as you don’t mind a temporarily handicapped host and one obnxiously sassy cat.” 

He laughs loudly again. “I happen to be fond of cats and your company as well!” 

“We’ve met twice, and one of those times I was covered in grass stains, dirt, and sweat.”

“I am a very good judge of character!” You roll your eyes, but somehow, you believe him. 

-x-x-x-

“Um, just take your shoes off at the door please.” You tell Rengoku as you sit yourself on the small stool you’ve set up by the front door so you can take your shoes off without much fuss. He easily complies, as he steps into your house only to turn and patiently wait for you to finish up. As you drop your shoes, he offers his arm as you gratefully take it and hoist yourself up with the use of the cane you keep at your door in exchange for your crutches. 

In the comfort of your own home that you could maneuver through blindfolded, you greatly preferred the short, ease of use of a cane. You kept it a secret from Kocho though, who knows if she’d scold you for the unprompted buy since she was probably the most professional and strict doctor you’ve been the patient of. 

Luckily, since Rengoku had been in your home this much before, he let you use his arm with your free hand all the way until you got into the living room. Much like how he carried you in before. You slip your palm off his forearm and step around him, much less clunky without your crutches. 

“Have a seat. I don’t have much to offer, but I do have cold bottled water I can promise hasn't been opened,” you joke as he laughs. 

“I appreciate the hospitality, however you do not need to-” 

“Ah-tata,” you cut him off, “just because my foot isn’t at peak recovery doesn’t mean I can’t get you a small bottle of water. The kitchen isn’t far anyways.” Rengoku relented. Just as it was impossible to argue with him, it seemed to go both ways. He smiled. 

He liked that. 

As you disappeared into the kitchen, a small meow and curious tap against his shin caught his attention as he stood by the couch. He smiled down at the black cat as he slid his sword out of the harness he wore and set it gently against the couch so as to not startle your pet. He knelt, offering his hand out as Taco’s little nose bumped against it, sniffing before rubbing his head against the warm knuckles of Rengoku. 

“Aren’t you cute,” he mumbles to himself. 

“Only around guests,” you add, coming back into the living room to see Rengoku loving on your cat. “He’s cute now, but he’s a big pain in my butt when he wants to be.” You offer him a cold bottle of some random brand of water you bought on sale.

“Aren’t many animals that way?” He graciously takes the plastic bottle from you, the chill of it is a welcome change in his warm palm. 

“I think it’s because I spoil him too much. He was a very unprompted rescue, so I went a little overboard raising him.” 

“There is nothing wrong with raising an animal with so much care! He seems very happy!” 

You plop yourself on the couch and Taco was quick to abandon Rengoku’s side in favor of yourself as he jumped on the cushions and stepped onto your lap where he folded his legs and lay himself down. You scratch at his back, making him stretch and roll before he’s trying to play and swipe at your hand and fingers. 

The small little tag that read ‘TACO’ in engraved letters caught Rengoku’s eye and he chuckled at the name. Indeed, that was a very happy and loved cat, he had no doubt. 

“You’re welcome to sit on the couch,” you lightly joke at his still kneeling form on your livingroom floor. He does as you suggest, thanking you before sitting a cushion away from you as to not push personal boundaries or opposingly seem too standoff-ish. It was quiet for a bit as you fiddle with your own waterbottle in your hand. “I hope I’m not causing any trouble,” you announce bashfully. 

“Pardon?” 

“Well,” you breathe, untwisting, then retwisting, just to untwist your bottle cap again to try and focus on something other than your sudden anxiety. “I just sort of dragged you here. I dunno, I feel like I’m pulling you away from your job? I know how important it is.” 

“Worry not,” he quells. “There are many others like myself who also patrol the streets when the sun sets! I am not the only one, so my company here is no trouble at all!” 

“Oh, right, you mentioned other coworkers. Are there a lot of you?” 

“There is! We’re an organization of many people, but since we’re unrecognized by the government and since people do not believe in demon’s unless they survive an encounter with one, we are very scarcely known.” You nod at him. You feel a little sad at the fact he, and others like him, were risking their safety and no one even knew. “In fact, there are even a few of my students who work along side me as well!” 

“Students?” You whip your full attention to him at mention of children. “You’re a teacher?” 

“I am!” 

“And you all just, what? Let children into your little demon-slaying job?” 

“Well, not exactly, no.” Rengoku worried he wold break into a sweat at your accusatory tone of getting children involved in clearly dangerous work. “Although it is dangerous, younger slayers are put through rigirous training and must past a very specific qualification test before they can even take to the field like I do. We of higher ranking always make sure to watch out for our young underlings. They are our future after all!” 

The idea of kids fighting those… things still didn’t sit quite right with you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. And if Rengoku says that they’re well taken care of, and skillful above that, then surely they weren’t in too much danger. You wanted to trust his words so you shut your eyes and willed yourself to do so.

“Plus, we are not so reckless as to just assign anything to anyone. No demon is slain by a slayer who is weaker than the task at hand. We’re very meticulous about such things.” 

“I understand.” You open your eyes and glance over at your cane for a moment then speak up again. “So, what are demons exactly?” 

“Demons are former humans who have either been killed and revived by demon blood, or made a deal with another demon for power.” 

“Former humans?” Your mind flashed back to the spindly, disfigured, skeletal demon that attacked you. “So, that thing that attacked me? That was once a person?” Rengoku nodded and a chill ran violently down your spine. 

“At some point, yes it was. However, based on its appearance, it must’ve been a demon for a very long time to change that much.” That didn’t exactly make you feel better about it. “You must understand that demons are dangerous creatures regardless of what they used to be. They will not hesitate to attack and slaughter humans. We do not kill demons for sport, it is necessary to protect future victims.” 

“I believe you and I understand- I do, it’s just… a lot to process, I guess?” You blow a harsh breath out of your lips. “So, how do you kill them? I mean with your sword I guess, but is there any other way?” 

Rengoku nodded, grabbing his sword’s scabbard and hilt before drawing it. The red blade you had gotten a glimpse of the night of the attack shone brilliantly in your well-lit living room. It was truly a beautiful blade to look at and the sword guard in the shape of flames was very fitting to its wielder. 

“To kill a demon it must be done with a very specific sword with a blade made out of a specific mineral that’s been bathed in sunlight for many years. This is a nichirin sword, a sword that has a color changing blade.” 

“So, a regular sword wouldn’t work?” 

“Correct!” He offers his sword over for you to hold and inspect it. You gently take it from him after you move Taco out of the way so that he wouldn’t start playing with it like it was a toy. “You can hack a demon into pieces with a regular blade, but it will always regenerate. A demon must be decapitated with a nichirin sword or it will continue to wreck havoc.” You hand the sword back to him and he easily sheaths it with practiced ease. “However, there are ways to defend yourself from demons, if you’d like to hear?” 

You nod, intrigued by the entirely new concept of the world you had been so oblivious to for so many years of your life. You wanted to know more, to understand more. It was captivating and if he was willing to tell, you were willing to listen. 

“There are special guns forged in our line of work that have crafted bullets that cause great harm to demons! Among other ways to deter them, demons are unable to stand wisteria.” 

“Wistera? Like the flower?” 

“Yes! Clusters of Wisteria trees are always a safe place to run to in the event one is close by. Even wisteria-scented charms and poisons are toxic and painful to their kind, they actively avoid anything to do with it. In fact, Kocho is a demon slayer, the same as I!” 

“Really?!” Rengoku laughs loudly at your shock, but after a moment it did make sense. She was specifically referred by him and knew everything about what you experienced and believed it easily. If you had stopped to think about it, it was pretty easy to assume she was involved somehow, but a fighter? That was a bit of a shock considering her stature.

“Though she does not have the strength to cut a demon’s head off its shoulders, she’s developed a technique that incorporates poisons in her duty that are lethal upon injection.”

“Wow,” you awe. She was more impressive by the day. 

“Of course, it helps that she’s also a very skilled doctor!” 

“That’s true,” you lightly giggle. There’s silence in your living room once more as you glance over at the blond haired man. “So,” you start and gain his attention, “you’re a teacher?” You already knew the answer, he answered you earlier but it was the best ice breaker you could think of.  

“That is correct.” 

“I feel like I could’ve guessed if you didn’t already tell me. You explain things well. Your students must like you.” 

“I cannot say how well I am at teaching in particular, but my student’s grades never drop to failing marks! You must keep the children interested in the lesson if you wish for them to grow. I do my best to achieve nothing less!” 

“What do you teach?” 

“History! I find it very fascinating- the past that is.” You nod. “Not to mention, I have been teaching my younger brother many things since we were young and I always enjoyed doing so. So, the profession grew on me. I very quickly knew what I wanted to do with my life during the time the sun is in the sky.” 

“A younger brother? How old is he?” 

“He’s currently in high school. Despite our age gap, we get along very well!” 

“That’s great that you both get along. I’m an only child myself, but I do have a younger cousin. He feels more like a kid brother though, so I can sort of understand. The school’s he’s attending right now has dorm buildings for it’s students, so we don’t visit much,” you reminisce as you comfortably cross your arms. 

“I’m sure you miss him.” 

“Sometimes,” you chuckle. “Then there are times I’m glad he’s not actually my brother, as horrible as that sounds.” 

“Regardless, I’m sure he feels the same!” 

Thankfully, before the conversation took a turn for the mushy, Taco started to meow at you. He had jumped onto the floor earlier after being taken off your lap and roamed before coming back to paw at your leg. You leaned down and scratched under his chin as you felt him purr. 

“I know, you need to be fed,” you tell him as you start coddling him. You excuse yourself as Rengoku got off the couch to help you to your feet before you were off to the kitchen again, Taco trotting eagerly behind you. 

In the silence of your living room alone again, Kyojuro Rengoku looked around the room at all the decorations. Some frames on the wall here, some dry plants there, a couple cat toys scattered around the floor that was no doubt Taco’s doing, and a grey cat tower was close to the main window in the room where the dark curtains were drawn for the night. Despite all that he was visually taking in, he was stuck in his thoughts.  

Kyojuro was always a people person, he enjoyed chatting and making connections, it was another reason he loved teaching so much.  Something about tonight felt different to him though. Like this one experience with this one person- you- was something out of the ordinary. LIke it was something special. 

When you came back from feeding Taco, you carried random conversation topics before an ill-timed alarm went off on his phone that had been stuffed in his pocket this whole time. The sudden sound startled you and Rengoku was quick to apologize before realizing how late it was. If he didn’t get home and get at least some sleep, tomorrow’s lesson would surely be a lackadaisical one. 

You saw him out, despite how much he insisted you not be on your feet, and before you knew it he was outside your door and then gone. 

“He’s fast,” you muttered to the air he used to occupy before shutting your door and double-checking to make sure you did in fact lock it. You looked at both sides of your front door devoid of any decorations. “Maybe I should get some tables or something to put some flowers on so the front entrance isn’t so boring.” 

With that last thought, you called for Taco because you needed to get to bed yourself. Sleep found you easily as opposed to the last few nights, and with it brought nothing but calm darkness. You were grateful for a night of sleep without nightmares.

-x-x-x-

Another week had passed and a small part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t heard or seen heads or tails of Rengoku again. He hadn’t been by the izakaya with his friend or anyone else for that matter, and you haven’t had the pleasure of running into him in the streets. Of course, the moment the feeling of disappointment nagged at you, you immediately tried to squash it down.

Despite the fact that he was A) someone who saved your life and B) a man you allowed into your home a grand total of two times didn’t erase the fact that he was still practically a stranger. A stranger who spilled his guts about his profession and gave a brief history lesson about demons in your living room, but a stranger nonetheless. 

Your foot had improved drastically since a week ago and you could now walk without dragging a crutch or cane around with you. The pain would still sometimes ebb at the joint, but you’d always try and find a place for a pitstop to rest and take any on-hand pain medication before it got too bad. 

Your current pitstop? Your local library. 

You didn’t really have any explanation why you decided to come here on your spare time, furthermore why you were nosing around in the historical section. Granted, the books you picked up weren’t full of information you didn’t already know- but you still flipped through the pages standing in the empty isle regardless completely engrossed in the material.

After your skip around history, you made sure to replace all the books from where you got them (or the best you could remember) and moved to make your way out into the open space between sections. The library attendant's desk with a single employee sitting behind it with their nose in a book to pass by the shift was within sight of the wide open space. 

The day was slowly starting to wane and you sat yourself at an unoccupied table close to a window that showed the streets that were starting the transformation of throngs of people to freckles of bodies. You push your chin into your palm as you watch out the window mindlessly. You didn’t have a shift tonight that demanded your attendance and you felt restless. It was strange, normally you’d have no issues just spending a lazy day inside on the time you didn’t have plans or work. 

Now? Now you felt like any free moment you spent inside was wasted. You felt bad about it since you were leaving Taco alone, but you promised that you’d take your beloved cat out on more walks if this new behavior keeps up. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a harness and leash for walking, it was purely because finding the right time to take him out never worked in your favor. 

You blew air out your lips as you lay your head down on the table. Maybe it was the fact that you experienced a near-death experience and were recovering from it that made you not want to take time for granted. You cringed at your cliche thinking. 

You didn’t sit at the table long, grabbing your purse and making sure you didn’t leave anything behind before you left the library entirely- it was getting close to closing hours anyways. The last thing you needed was a staff member chasing you out. 

The sky bathed the concrete jungle that was the thinning streets a warm orange as you felt the simmering of heat stick uncomfortably to your skin and under yout clothes. The walk back home felt shorter than it was and when Taco didn’t come running to the sound of the opening and closing door, you felt confusion morph your face. Was he sleeping? Normally, he would be rushing to the door before you managed to slam it shut and lock it while he cried at his once again failure to bolt out the door. 

His escape artistry isn’t as honed as other alley cats and he had a hard time accepting that if it wasn’t obvious by the fits he throws. 

Toeing your shoes off, you stepped inside and as you got closer to your living room you could hear rattling. Rattling? You speed up your steps thinking your nosey cat had gotten into or broken something and was foolishly playing with the pieces, but when you come into the living room with the waning sunlight forcing your to turn on the house lights, you gasp at what you see. 

It was Taco, your beloved cat, yes, but he hadn’t knocked anything down or broken anything that your eye could see. Instead, he was sitting on his cat tower that sat by the large window of your living room you would normally decorate for holidays pawing at the glass as a large black bird sat opposite of him behind the pane. 

The bird, you couldn’t tell what kind from your shock and slight panic-blinded eyes, was sat perfectly still on the outside of the window, knocking its beak lightly against the glass every time Taco mewled or pawed. Its head turned and cocked when it noticed the light flick on and you swore you saw its dark eyes zero in on you before its wings spread out wide spooking Taco off of his tower and onto the floor where he made a less than gracious landing. 

Its wings flapped and then folded back in before tapping two more times on the window. You swallowed the lump in your throat before you slowly treaded up to the window. The bird's beak and eyes followed you, lifting higher to keep its sight on your face the closer you got before you were standing next to Taco’s tower. The black cat himself had seemingly forgotten about the mysterious bird and instead took purchase weaving between your ankles and rubbing his fur over you, soaking in your scent of outside. 

“Are you stuck,” you lightly ask the bird as if he could answer you. Maybe he had flown into your window by mistake- that happens sometimes in tall buildings right? Birds not telling the difference between open space and glass? But, when you looked at his taloned feet there was nothing constriction him and his body was free of anything binding him too, the evidence was in the way his wings would still occasional expand then fold again. It was like he was inviting you to do something. 

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t speak bird. 

You jumped when its beak opened and a sharp, quick nose came out. A muffled caw! catching you by surprise as you nearly tripped over Taco’s still-weaving body. Then, the bird’s beak came to tap at the metal frame where the lock was. 

Did it want inside? Could you really do that? Let some random bird inside your house after it’s been sitting outside your livingroom window for god knows how long just entertaining your cat while you were gone? 

All probability flew out the proverbial window when you, without thinking, unlatched the window and slid it open allowing the big blackbird to fly right in. You screamed, not in terror, but in more shock as it flew inside and the flap of its wings was louder than you were expecting. 

The bird flew a lap around your living room before coming around to you and landing on Taco’s tower beside your shoulder. It was staring at you at eye level now and you could finally identify the bird as a crow. You knew that crows were intelligent birds, but this was clearly a trained bird, not just some random bird who decided to make a nest in your home for no good reason. 

You flinched for the umptheeth time when the crow’s left wing expanded and exposed half of it’s body. You were fully expecting it to folded up again, but it didn’t. Then you noticed it, a small crimson thread tied around it’s leg with a small dark capsule attached to it. 

You relaxed your shoulders and chuckled. 

“What are you, a messenger pigeon?” You wondered if crows could get offended by the way they can remember faces and whatnot. “That was a joke,” you followed yourself just in case. “Is that for me?” You ask hesitantly and when the crow did not move or make any indication of disagreement, you slowly and as carefully as possible unscrewed the bottom of the capsule and a small rolled-up piece of paper slid out of it. The crow softly folded its wing back up once you screwed the bottom piece back on. 

The paper was thin and rolled expertly like a scroll. You walked over to the coffee table and knelt to unfold it to read. 

My apologies for sending word to you this way! It must have been quite the shock to find a crow hanging around your home, however, I have neglected to ask of any other means of connection to you in our few encounters! If appropriate, how many I contact you from here on out? -K.Rengoku

You re-read the well-written note- scroll? -about three times before you broke down into a fit of laughter, kicking your still-healing foot into the table leg and wincing as the dull throb brought you back to your mind. 

You looked over your shoulder at the crow still perched on the tower and used your hand to pat an empty space on your table. 

“Come down here,” you invite and the crow listened well. Fluttering down easily and its talons clacking satisfyingly on your wooden table. You curled your finger, letting the back of your knuckles run over the bird's feathers careful not to accidentally pluck one. “So, you’re Rengoku’s bir-er-crow?” You corrected yourself midword thinking that just calling the crow ‘bird’ would be a bit demeaning. A soft caw was your answer. 

You looked around your coffee table but found nothing close enough to resemble a piece of paper small enough like his to send on the crows return back. Flipping the tiny-scroll over you decided to just use the back side and the nearest pen you had laying around. 

I knew you were into history, but a messenger crow? Now that’s old school. Does he have a name? 

Beside your short messaged reply, you scribbled your number down in the best handwriting you could muster so there was no way the numbers could be confused with another number. You then tried rolling it back up as expecrtly as it was put in- and failed- before you ended up folding the paper into small enough rectangles it fit inside the capsule just as well as when it was rolled up. You then pet the crow one more time before you walked back toyour window and called for it to sit on the sill. 

“You fly back home safely, okay?” The sun had declared the last lights of dusk before the sky covered your section of the world in a dark blanket and the crow’s dark eyes shimmered in earnest before it cawed once more and took off like a friendly goodbye! to its newfound friend. 

You were practically giddy the rest of the night, skipping around and giving Taco an extra treat or two in your good mood. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this feeling in your stomach, butterflies. As you lay in bed you wonder why it was you were feeling those butterflies that took you back to your high school days with flings and crushes and unrealistic romantic daydreams that would make even the most Christmas-y Hallmark movie plot to shame. 

Followed by the intriguing thought of it was all because of the still semi-stranger man named Rengoku who taught history and also happened to kill demons, the feeling of being on some pranked tv show with hidden cameras felt less and less likely the more time passed. But still- it all sounded so unreal when you thought about it all. 

The next morning, after not remembering when you even fell asleep, you checked your phone to see you had an unread text from an unknown number. You smiled at it, not even bothering to shut off the alarm clock that had woken you up as you quickly saved the number into your contacts. 

(Rengoku) His name is Kaname!

-x-x-x-

a/n pt2) DID YOU MISS ME? I know after such a long wait it's a pretty slow boring chapter, but I think the soft pacing was a good ease back into things.

I dunno where the inspo to finish this chapter even came from, but you won't see me complaining. Lemme know what you guys thought, I know it's been a while since I updated much of anything really, so the feedback is critical!!! and ofc im always up for any ideas y'all could have for the future since we all know how touch and go I am with inspiration lol