Disclaimer:  Kyuuketsuki Miyu belongs to Narumi Kakinouchi, not              
       me.  I'm not making any money on this, so don't sue                   
me, okay?  This is obviously a lemon. Furthermore,                    it is 
not entirely consensual.  I'm not going to                      tell you not 
to read it if you're under age because,                  technically, I 
can't read it either and I wrote                       it...Use your 
discretion.
                                           Shiromori

Kyuuketsuki Miyu:  Completion

     I was concerned.  I suppose I had no real reason to be.  After all, 
Miyu is, even at the best of times, given to strange moods.  Yet, I had 
never seen her like this before.  She sat for hours, day and night, in her 
room, only coming out to feed which she did now two or three times a day, 
more than ever.  She had no interest whatsoever in hunting for Shinma and 
the one we did come across, a succubus of sorts, she cruelly tortured before 
returning to the Dark.  She never once requested my help.  I recalled Miyu's 
chilling words to the succubus as she engulfed her in flame: "What man would 
look at you now?  What man would want you?" and for a moment, I thought I 
heard the sting of spite and jealousy in her voice.
     Now I stood uncertainly by her door.  It was closed to me as it had 
been since this began.  Still, I felt I should enter.  Miyu needed something 
and if I could not give it to her, whatever it was, then I was not doing my 
job.  Part of me objected to this course of action, but Miyu had not 
expressly forbidden me to enter or I would not have been able, so I pushed 
open the door.  The floor and bed were strewn with books and magazines and 
pieces of crumpled and torn sketch paper.  Miyu sat on her bed, bent over 
her crossed legs and drawing.  Her hair was mussed and her yukata wrinkled.  
Her amber eyes were intent and I knew she hadn't moved from that position in 
hours.
     "Laba," Miyu said and I was startled out of my observation of her.  She 
was looking at me.  I smiled under my mask.  So nice to hear her voice 
again, calm and innocent, to hear her pronounce my Latin name in her 
Japanese tongue.
     "Darling," I said.  "what is happening with you?  You are not 
yourself."  I removed my mask to let her see the concern in my expression.  
"How do you mean?" she asked, continuing to draw.
     "You seem preoccupied...different."  I couldn't explain it any better 
than that.  There was an intensity to her lately that I couldn't describe.  
"I don't see," she said flatly.  I sighed and came to her, sitting beside 
her on the bed.  I saw what she was drawing: black and white, a man and 
woman entwined passionately.  I passed a hand over the couple.
     "Why?"
     Miyu put down her pencil and looked at me as she sat up. "Why?", she 
repeated as if she didn't understand my question.  I poked at the books 
strewn around her.  All had dreamily painted dark-eyed beauties on their 
covers, women wrapped in the arms of their lovers.  And I understood.  I 
wondered that I had not realized sooner.  How long had I stayed with my 
Miyu, caring for her as for a child of thirteen?  But she was not a child, 
hadn't been for many years.  While her mind had aged, her body had not and I 
had not noticed.
     Miyu put aside her wistful sketch and crawled into my lap as she had so 
often done before, but in this new light, I was more aware of her than I had 
ever been.  Miyu slipped an arm around my waist and looked up at me with 
honey eyes gone golden with passion.  "What is it like, Laba?"  I didn't 
have to ask her what she meant.  I knew by the way she looked at me.  But, I 
didn't know quite how to explain it.  I had nothing to compare it to.  I 
found it odd that she would have asked me of all people what it was like to 
make love.  I wondered why she would think I knew.
     "It...it is different for everyone," I began uncertainly.  "not 
physically, but...emotionally.  The feeling is different."  Miyu watched me 
with the same eager intensity she had for her drawing.  "How was it for 
you?" she asked softly.
     It had been so long for me, I couldn't imagine where to begin.  
Absently, I stroked her hair as I sought the right word.  "Sweet," I said 
finally.  "very sweet.  As the most beautiful flower.  When you care for 
someone...it is like a completion of each other, a final union of body and 
spirit."  I couldn't tell if that was what she wanted, but she leaned 
against my chest and considered my words.
     "Completion for the one you love," Miyu repeated softly.  "To be 
complete..."  She reached up and caressed my throat, bringing her face very 
close to mine, tilted as if for a kiss, repeating a familiar embrace.  But, 
I had never kissed her, only accepted the fluttering brushes of her lips on 
my mask or my face.
     "Laba," she whispered.  "do you love me?"  What could I say?  I sighed, 
wrapping my arms around her waist.  "Of course, my dear Miyu, my little 
love.  More than anything."  And I knew it was true.  "You're so good to 
me," Miyu said, her breath warming my face.  "You're all I have.  Will you 
love me, my servant, my friend...my love?"
     "Miyu!" I gasped, shocked by her request.  I could have pretended not 
to understand.  I could have chosen to mistake her meaning, but I didn't do 
any of those things.  I didn't because she had asked, not commanded as she 
could have, because Miyu had asked this service of me.  And I am, after all, 
her servant.  I owed her an answer.
     "Laba," she said soothingly.  "don't be distressed.  If you don't want 
me..."  Miyu didn't finish her sentence.  SHe merely trailed off, leaning 
her cheek against my chest, her palm over my heart.  No!  No, I couldn't let 
Miyu believe I didn't truly care for her...But to have her in that 
way...But, I was foolish to believe Miyu wouldn't know my thoughts.  
"Please, Laba," she pleaded, her voice uncharacteristically low and husky.  
"I want it.  I want you."  A slim hand slid gently between my legs.  "I am a 
woman who wants to be complete."
     "Miyu," I moaned.  And I was pleading too, begging for her not to do 
this, because I knew I would give in.  "Laba," she sighed.  "kiss me."  She 
brushed the soft petals of her lips against mine and I did kiss her, after a 
fashion, as I had been commanded.  Miyu was inexperienced and I did not move 
to teach her anything.  I merely held my mouth over hers as we breathed into 
one another.
     I would have been content to leave it like that, but Miyu was squirming 
in my lap, rubbing her body against mine and making it surprisingly hard to 
let go.  Miyu turned herself towards me and whispered against my mouth.  
"No, like this."  She slowly, but surely unwound my cloak from my shoulders 
and pushed my robe away.  Her hands were cool on my bare skin before she 
removed them to slip her yukata off her own shoulders.  Miyu embraced me 
again, more forcefully, but this time, her soft breasts brushed against my 
naked chest.
     No!  I took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away.  "No," I 
whispered firmly.  "No, Miyu, this is wrong."  Miyu only put her hands on 
mine and looked at me in total innocence.  "Why?" she asked.  "My poor Laba, 
don't you understand?  I am not a child."  Her hands forced mine off her 
shoulders, down until my palms rested against her small breasts.  "and you 
must do this for me, my love."
     I hated it.  I hated what she was doing.  With these simple, 
innocent-seeming words, she had robbed me of whatever small claim I had to 
free will.  She no longer asked.  She ordered.  And I was angry.  I burned 
with it.  She had taken from me the illusion of her innocence and I knew 
there would be no forgiving.
     With my hands where she had put them, where I did not want them, I 
pushed her roughly on to her back.  I leaned over her, my arms braced on 
either side of her head, effectively trapping her.  She looked infinitely 
fragile to me.  Her silken hair fanned out around her and her arms were 
brought close to her breasts.  She looked pale, paler than usual, but, at 
the moment, I could summon up no compassion for her.  "Is this what you 
want?" I said harshly.  Miyu was too shocked to answer.  She merely looked 
at me with large yellow eyes, not encouraging or dissuading me.  Maybe even 
she didn't know.  And her confusion stirred in me the regret and compassion 
that I had refused to feel.  It frustrated me that she had put me in this 
position.  It scared me, the depth of anger that I felt towards her at that 
moment.
     Miyu had apparently been loosening my robes as we spoke and it wasn't a 
difficult matter to move them aside.  I lowered myself roughly onto her, 
pinning her with my weight and pressing a knee between her thighs.  She 
wasn't ready for me and I could see that I hurt her as I forced my way into 
her body, but Miyu didn't utter a sound.  She closed her eyes tightly and I 
could fell her trapped hands press against my chest.  I was not gentle.  I 
thrust hard into her again and again, not slowing until I felt my climax 
building.  I only wanted it to be over.
     With a final jerking lunge of my hips, it came and I shuddered and 
groaned, feeling my seed spill into her.  Insanely, I wondered what her 
time-frozen body would do with it.  But, I was yanked off that train of 
thought by the feel of Miyu's slight body trembling under mine.
     Hastily, I moved, wincing in sympathy as I forgot and withdrew from her 
swiftly, causing her another flash of pain.  I saw how she struggled to hide 
it from me and I couldn't stay angry with her.  I sat up, carefully pulling 
our clothing into order.  I brushed her cheek with all the tenderness I had 
lacked before, my fingers caressing the curve of her jaw.  She didn't look 
at me.  "Miyu," I sighed sadly.  "I am so sorry."  I saw her eyes on me 
again, dark and liquid.  She reached for my hand and I pulled her into a 
sitting position.  There was blood on her yukata, blood on me, but we chose 
to ignore it.  Gently, I smoothed her tousled hair.  "Laba!" she whispered, 
leaning into me.
     Miyu melted against me and I folded her in my arms.  "I never meant to 
hurt you," I said softly, but I knew it wasn't true.  I had meant it.  And I 
was sorry.  God, I was sorry.  "It should never have been like that," I told 
her.  "That was cruelty."  I looked down at her, sick with guilt and saw 
only her beautiful smile.  She was smiling at me.  "No, my love," she said.  
"That was a union."  She lightly kissed my cheek.  "a union of violence and 
love and the completion of each."  And I couldn't help but smile back in a 
small way.


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