#kojikis

sus vc embarassing

ㅤㅤ" YO, Naru. " He called out from the entrance hall as he waltzed in rather casually. " You weren't answering your phone so I ... "

ㅤㅤAlmost immediately, Masaru paused in his tracks the moment he was faced with the realization that the person so nonchalantly lounging around Narumi's home was not his teacher but ... some weirdo ?!

The legends are what drew the samurai to this place. Deep in the forest, a monster was said to lurk, terrorizing anyone who dared get too close. Rumors floated through nearby villages, and ultimately made it to her ear. No one had asked for her help. No one had even perceived her capable of such a thing. Yet that hadn't stopped Nara from trekking through the woods to face the legendary Eight-Forked Serpent. Returning with its heads was sure to sate her craving for recognition. Respect.

Hubris had once again gotten the better of her.

The storm had rolled in without warning—thunder murmuring low over the mountains, clouds churning like a cauldron above the forest. Robin stood on the ridge, wind tossing her hair back, the smell of ozone and loam thick in the air. Her claws itched at her sides. The trees were bowing now, but not from weather. From reverence.

She knew before she saw him.

The pressure in the air shifted, and Robin turned as the mist peeled back like silk, revealing the towering silhouette of a figure both monstrous and divine. Eight heads shimmered and twisted through the fog—each with a different expression. All of them watching her.

Yamata-no-Orochi.

Her stance held, but her pulse stuttered. This was no ordinary yokai, no trickster fox or swamp-dwelling beast. This was old. Older than the Lost Woods. Older than memory.

Still, she didn’t flinch.

“I thought you were just a story,” she said, voice quiet but unyielding. “My Obaa-san used to whisper your name like a warning. I guess she was telling the truth, hm?”

Robin didn’t move. Her blue eyes searched the monstrous faces and found something she hadn’t expected—something ancient and eerily familiar. Not in the way of a foe. No.

It was the way the wind seemed to carry her breath with his. The way her heart beat faster not with fear, but remembrance.

She swallowed thickly, her voice hoarse. “You knew her, didn’t you? The wolf of light. Amaterasu.”

The sky cracked overhead, lightning illuminating the sacred ground.

“I’m hers,” Robin continued, low and steady. “Blood of sunfire. The last of her wolves.”

⭐️ for orochi!

welcome home narumi-chan... do u want dinner? a bath? or---

     it feels a tad bit out of place , but not completely unwelcome to be on the receiving end of such treatment . khanna would anticipate to bring a pillow , or offer her own lap for ryu to rest on as he lounged around for the day . the weather had been relatively nice , save for the encroaching heat that they'll surely face later in the week . it was a little flustering for her initially , getting to look up at the other , and observe his expressions . did ryu ever make any similar observations , when they shared moments like these several times before ? ( a question like would of course , have a very obvious answer .. )

     maybe switching things up a bit now and then , wouldn't hurt .

     before khanna knew it , she had begun to relax — her eyes became heavy and tired . mixed with ryu gently massaging at her head , as well as playing with her hair ; this too was an obvious result for a woman who spent most of her time running around giving herself very little breaks .

      " it feels nice , to be around you like this ... "