Vash
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Chapter 49
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 12:05:23 +0000 UTCLater that evening, I was in my study trying to catch up on some paperwork when a certain black shadow materialized from nowhere.
"Well, well," a sultry voice purred from the shadows near my bookshelf.
I didn't even look up from my reports. "You know, most people use the front door. It's this crazy new invention." I knew who it was without looking.
I sighed.
I really should invest in warding items for my next manifestation.
A woman stepped out of the darkness, and I finally glanced up to see her properly. Long black hair with golden highlights that caught the lamplight. Cat-like golden eyes that glowed faintly in the dim room. A figure that would make most men forget their own names, barely contained in what looked like a traditional Japanese outfit that had been modified to show off every curve.
Kuroka. Koneko's older sister. SS-class criminal. And based on the killing intent radiating off her like heat from a furnace, she wasn't here for a friendly chat.
“Kuroka.”
“You know me?"
"Of course I know you,"
"Of course you do..," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she sauntered closer. Her hips swayed with each step.. " I suppose I should have expected much from someone who preys on innocent little girls."
Now I did look up fully, setting down my pen with deliberate calm. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, don't play dumb with me, nya~" The casual verbal tic slipped out as her facade cracked slightly. "You think I don't know what you've been doing to my precious little sister?"
She moved closer, and I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands were positioned to strike. This wasn't just posturing—she was genuinely furious.
"Making her cry. Breaking her heart. Using her for your own sick pleasure." Her eyes flashed dangerously, pupils dilating. "I should tear your throat out right now, nya."
"You're misinformed," I said calmly, leaning back in my chair.
"Am I?" She was right in front of my desk now, leaning forward to give me an excellent view of her assets while simultaneously looking like she wanted to murder me. The contradiction was very... Kuroka. "Because what I heard was that you made my Shirone cry today. That you told her you were dating someone else, nya."
Ah. So that's what this was about. Someone had given her a very incomplete version of my conversation with Koneko.
"Your sources need better context," I said, studying her face. There was genuine pain behind the anger, real fear for her sister.
"Do they?" Her claws extended, razor-sharp and glowing with youkai power. The air around her shimmered with barely contained energy. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're just another bastard who thinks he can play with my sister's feelings, nya."
The protective fury in her voice was unmistakable. For all her reputation as a criminal, as someone who'd supposedly killed her own master, the genuine love and concern for Koneko was written all over her face.
"You really care about her," I said softly.
"Of course I care about her!" Kuroka snapped, her composure finally cracking completely. "She's the only family I have left! The only thing that matters to me in this whole fucked-up world! And I won't let some privileged little prince hurt her, nya!"
The verbal tic was coming out more frequently now, a sign of how emotionally compromised she was.
"Then you should know I'd never hurt her."
"Words," Kuroka hissed, her tail appearing and lashing behind her in agitation. "Just pretty words from a pretty boy. I've heard them all before, nya."
She attacked without warning.
Fast as lightning, claws crackling with youkai energy aimed straight for my throat. But there was something about the attack—it was deadly serious but also oddly restrained, like she was testing me rather than trying to actually kill me.
I caught her wrist mid-strike, stopping her claws inches from my throat.
"Interesting," I said calmly, not even breathing hard.
Her eyes widened in shock. "That's impossible, nya—"
I applied just a little more pressure to her wrist. Not enough to break anything, but enough to demonstrate the gap between us. Her claws retracted involuntarily.
"Impossible," she breathed, struggling against my grip. "You're just a human—"
"Am I?"
That's when I let a tiny fraction of my mana leak out. Just a whisper of the dragon's essence that flowed through my veins.
The effect was immediate and completely unexpected.
Kuroka went completely still in my grip, her golden eyes dilating. A shiver ran through her entire body, and I felt her pulse spike under my fingers. Her breathing became shallow, and a flush crept up her neck.
"Oh," she whispered, her voice suddenly breathy and confused. "Oh my, nya..."
I frowned. That wasn't the reaction I'd expected. Fear, maybe. Submission, possibly. But this? This looked almost like...
"Vali was right," she murmured, her struggles ceasing entirely. Her body swayed slightly, and I caught a scent in the air—something wild and intoxicating. "You really are strong, nya."
That explained how she'd found me. Vali must have told her about our sparring sessions.
"He mentioned you were powerful," she continued, her voice dropping to a purr that seemed to vibrate through the air between us. "But I thought he was exaggerating. Vali tends to do that when he finds a new toy to play with, nya."
"Didn't Vali tell you about the Shinjuku Incident?" I asked, genuinely confused. Didn't she know about my fight with Azazel?
"Hmm? About what, nya?" Kuroka looked genuinely confused, though her breathing was getting more erratic.
That's when I noticed something was wrong. Heat was crawling up my spine like liquid fire. My skin felt too tight, like I was burning from the inside out. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, charged with something that made my pulse race.
"I beat the shit out of Azazel three weeks ago," I said, trying to focus through the strange sensation. "Almost killed the bastard. Half of Shinjuku's still being rebuilt."
The color drained from her face, then rushed back in a deep blush. She swayed, actually swayed on her feet.
"That was you, nya?" Her voice cracked. "The Shinjuku Incident?"
"Guess you've been too busy stalking my lunch dates to keep up with current events."
But I was having trouble concentrating on our conversation. Something was happening to both of us, something primal and overwhelming.
"What's... what's happening to us, nya?" Kuroka gasped, her voice shaky and confused. Her pupils were blown wide, almost swallowing the gold of her irises entirely. She looked as lost as I felt.
She stumbled forward, closing the distance between us. Her hands landed on my chest and I felt the tremor running through her whole body. Her scent was everywhere now, filling my lungs and making rational thought nearly impossible.
"I don't know," I admitted, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "But I can't... I can't think straight."
It was true. Every thought felt sluggish, wrapped in cotton, except for the overwhelming need to touch her, to have her touch me. My usual control, the careful discipline I'd built up through months of training, was completely gone. All that existed was the fire under my skin and the woman in my arms.
Like something primal had been triggered in both of us. Dragon meeting cat, maybe. Or just the perfect storm of pent-up emotions and supernatural energies.
Kuroka's breathing was coming in short, desperate pants. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, clumsy in a way that told me she was just as affected as I was. "This is crazy, nya," she whispered, but she didn't stop.
"Kuroka..." My hands found her waist without conscious thought, pulling her closer.
Her golden eyes locked on mine. There was pure hunger in her gaze, but also confusion and something that might have been fear. Not of me, but of what was happening to us.
"I came here to threaten you, nya," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not... not this."
I could smell her now—something wild and intoxicating that made the rational part of my brain shut down completely. And I'd been wound tight for weeks, board meetings and training sessions and dead parents pressing down until I couldn't breathe.
Then she kissed me. All desperation and teeth and need, like we were both drowning and this was the only air left. Her tongue traced my lower lip before diving deeper, and I tasted something sweet and dangerous.
Suddenly I was lifting her onto my desk, papers scattering to the floor. Her legs wrapped around my waist and she made a sound that went straight to my spine—half purr, half moan.
No words. Just heat. Just need. Just two supernatural beings caught in something neither of us understood.
My hand slid up her side, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her outfit. When I cupped her breast, she arched into my touch with a gasp that was pure feline pleasure.
"Don't stop, nya," she whispered against my mouth, her claws digging into my shoulders. "Please don't stop."
I shouldn't be doing this. Some rational part of my brain was screaming that this was a terrible idea. But that voice was getting fainter by the second, drowned out by the fire in my veins and the woman writhing beneath my touch.
I kissed down her neck, dragging my mouth along her pulse, and her whole body shivered beneath me. My hand found the tie holding her outfit together and pulled, revealing smooth pale skin that seemed to glow in the lamplight.
She wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Of course she wasn't.
"Oh god, nya," she moaned, arching into my touch. Her nails dug into my back through my shirt, probably leaving marks I'd feel tomorrow. But right now, the slight pain only added to the fire consuming us both.
Her legs tightened around my waist, pulling me closer, and I could feel the heat radiating from her core even through my pants. The rational part of my mind—what little was left—knew this was moving too fast, that we were both clearly under some kind of influence we didn't understand.
But when she looked at me with those golden eyes, pupils dilated with need and confusion, when she whispered "Don't stop, nya" in that broken, desperate voice, I knew there was no turning back.
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I woke slowly, awareness creeping in through layers of exhaustion. My entire body ached in ways that had nothing to do with supernatural training as sunlight streamed through the curtains of my bedroom.
For a moment, I just lay there, trying to piece together how I'd gotten from my study to my bed. The events of last night came flooding back in fragments. Kuroka appearing in my office. The confrontation about Koneko. That overwhelming heat that had consumed us both like wildfire.
The desperate way we'd torn at each other's clothes on my desk. The way she'd moaned my name. How we'd somehow made it to the bedroom, though I couldn't remember walking here. Just her skin against mine, the sounds she made, the way she moved beneath me.
I groaned, pressing the heel of my palm against my forehead. What the hell had happened to us? It was like every wall I'd built around my emotions had just crumbled at once, leaving nothing but raw need and primal hunger.
The bed was already empty, the sheets still warm but cooling fast. A piece of paper lay on the pillow where Kuroka's head should have been.
My hand trembled slightly as I picked up the note. Her handwriting was elegant but hurried, like she'd written it in a rush to leave before I woke up.
Leon,
Whatever that was last night, it wasn't supposed to happen, nya.
But this doesn't change anything. If you hurt my sister, I'll kill you.
I stared at the note for a long moment, reading it twice.
That's when I noticed the sheets.
Dark spots on the white fabric that I'd mistaken for shadows in the dim morning light. But as my eyes adjusted, as the reality of what I was seeing hit me, my blood went cold.
Blood. Dried, but unmistakably blood.
Fuck..
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Author’s Note:
So yeah… Kuroka’s part of the harem now. 😌
