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For Nana!

That entire week within smoldering wastes had been an attack to his senses.

He was surrounded by a bunch of foreigners — and the lack of space within the festivities made the Oni’s skin itch irritably. It took every ounce of restraint not to snap teeth at anyone who’d gotten too close, and the only real reason he’d agreed to come is to keep an eye on lady Yume . He could still remember the anxious tick within the back of his neck when she’d parted her lips to take interest in this wedding, and rest assured his eyes never left her the entire time.

Though the samurai supposed he should be grateful for the chance to release some of that tension during the tournament.

The island he’d returned to wasn’t the dynasty he’d known before — but it was still home. He could feel that through the cloud of familiar scents and wisteria. Empress Izumi….Ruito would need to ask her what had happened. Awakening here had been relatively a mystery, and his job thus far had distracted him from his initial bewilderment. Soon, though — he would find out what really happened to him.

A scent came to him just then.

Nostrils flared sharply as they inhaled it. Familiarity. Her.

Nana.

He breathed the name quietly to himself as his footsteps hurried towards the trail.

He wasn't here.

Nana is almost certain of it at this point.

It does not, of course, make her feel better. Which, in itself, is blasphemous. This coiling fear like a snake writhing in the cage of her ribs, ready to strike at any moment - she should never feel this way about a holy man. And yet she does, and it is crippling. Never before had it taken so much energy to behave normally.

Nana is fortunate enough to be left alone for the most part, and she finds routine in maintaining areas of the territory deemed holy.

Normal. Everything is normal.

Her belly has begun to swell.

Her scent has begun to change.

And Nana feels shame.

There is no part of her that can rid herself of the life growing within her stomach, and she fears when others will take notice and judge her for the actions it took to set this new life into motion.

The shrine maiden wonders if she'll be punished. Wonders if she'll be shunned.

She smothers on wisteria blossoms to hide the scent of pregnancy and goes about her day in spite of it all.

The sound of footsteps approaching has the hair on the back of her neck raising, and Nana spins with a touch of frantic fear in her eyes. This dissolves the moment she recognizes the man, replaced instantly with wide-eyed surprise, which then softened at the edges with affection.

Ruito, she says, taking a step forward. Her voice laced with hope and disbelief.

He didn’t trust his senses at first.

Not even as the pale dove stood before the Oni. In the flesh and all. Everything had been so strange since she’d arrived to this land with little to no answers — what was to say Nana was simply a wisp of his imagination? Yet all Ruitō needed was for her to speak in the gentle, familiar cadence of her voice for those suspicions to leave him.

Nana, Oh my god. It’s you!- The Oni slunk forward without hesitation, reaching a forearm out to hold the shrine maiden by the back of her head and holding her closer to him. It was not often that he was prone to acts of physical touch that wasn’t sparring or being torn by teeth, but the wave of relief that washed over him just then was so great that the idea had fled him.

His dear friend was here with him again. At last.

He released his hold on her slightly to allow her room to back away if she wished. The Oni had backed somewhat away himself to observe her, as if he still didn’t believe she was in front of him. Are you injured? Hurt? How did you get here?

He’d fussed before he actually greeted, as was his duty to ensure she’d been safe.

He pulls her in and Nana is briefly taken aback at how nice it is to feel a touch that does not hurt, to feel the warmth of a loved one. Her head tucks beneath his chin and she feels tears sting the backs of her eyes, her lower lip wobbling traitorously.

But she will not cry. Determinedly, Nana blinks them back, though her small body is trembling with too much emotion.

She can't speak, so she simply nods against him, a confirmation that she's here, that he's here, and suddenly the world feels a little more right.

Ruitō pulls back a little and Nana can't help but lean forward, unwilling to put distance between them. And then she catches herself, and her cheeks and ears burn hot in embarrassment. How needy had she become, to chase safe touch like this?

It's with a great effort that she does lean back a little, though she can't make herself move any further away than it would take for him to get a good look at her.

And she burns under his gaze.

Could he see the swell in her sides? Had she gotten all of the blood off of her nape? What if he looked and saw something he didn't want to see?

I... she begins, her voice crackling with traitorous emotion. I'm not hurt. And she isn't. She isn't.

Her mouth is dry as she speaks. I... fell from the shrine's stairs, and when I woke, I found myself here.

Close enough to the truth, while not giving too much information away. For how could she incriminate the priest so? How could she throw him to Ruitō's rage? How would this be fair to anyone?

Emotion scrunches up her face and she moves back into his space, squeezing her eyes shut.

I missed you, she admits, and can't hide how her voice warbles with the thick sound of a person holding back tears. I missed you, so much.