The air smelled like cherry blossom and sin.

Hours—or was it weeks—had passed since you stumbled free from Akuji's mirror hall. Your breath came in uneven pants, your body sore from something you couldn't name. Your memories blurred like fogged glass. Your hands trembled as you leaned against the cold temple wall, legs unsteady, heart racing.

You were sure you'd been wearing black. Now?

A crimson kimono trailed behind you like spilled wine—luxurious, embroidered with divine silk threads, the kind a royal bride would wear the night before her ruin. Your hair, once tied neatly, now hung loose around your shoulders, tangled and shining under flickering lantern light. Your vision still swam.

And the gods... they whispered still. Too low to understand. Too close to ignore.

Dragging your aching steps forward, you spotted an opening. A garden—lush, eerie, too still to be natural. Animals—foxes, crows, even a golden-eyed snake—watched you. Not with fear. With reverence. As if they knew. But you didn't stop. You needed to breathe. You needed to run.

Then... him.

A lone figure stood ahead, surrounded by the shimmer of moonlight dust. He was smiling. Not like Akuji's smirk—this smile was warm. Gentle. Almost human.

Almost.

You didn't trust it.

You turned to leave, panic surging—but instead of escape, you walked straight into a solid chest. Arms caught you before you collapsed. You didn't even scream. Your breath simply stopped.

And Akumai, god of pleasure, looked down at you like he'd just caught the rarest flame.

He hummed, soft as velvet. "Ah... so my twin got to you first." He tilted your chin up with two fingers, eyes dark with amusement and something deeper. "Do you remember what happened in his hall, little flame? Or should I be jealous you're already worn out before mine?"

He leaned closer, voice a whisper dipped in syrup. "Did he make you beg? Or did you just let him?"

He didn't give you time to answer. He was already pulling at your kimono—just enough to slide the fabric off one shoulder, exposing the skin where Akuji had kissed you before. His gaze lingered on the mark there, mouth curling into something wickedly soft.

"Don't worry," he whispered, brushing his lips against the curve of your neck. "I'll place mine right here. I don't mind sharing... I just like making it harder to forget me."

His mouth pressed gently—too gently. And then came the tongue. A slow, teasing lick followed by the sudden bite of his teeth. You flinched, and he held you tighter.

"Sensitive," he murmured. "Good."

Your legs trembled again, but not from fear. It was something heavier. The way your thoughts fuzzed around the edges. The way his voice curved around your name like silk. You blinked—but when your eyes opened again, the garden was gone.

Stone paths had become lacquered floors. Trees became silk-draped walls. Lanterns swayed, casting shadows over a low bed scattered with dark red petals. You hadn't walked here.

But Akumai didn't look surprised. He only smiled.

"Now, that's more comfortable, isn't it?" he said sweetly, walking you backward with unhurried steps. "You want to run again, little flame? I'd let you. I love a chase. But..." he caught your wrist with a lazy tug, "why bother, when you'll just end up back here anyway?"

Your knees hit the bed and you gasped, falling with a soft thump as your kimono pooled like red flowers beneath you. Akumai stood above you, loosening the black tie around his waist, his own robe falling open slightly to reveal lean muscle and golden skin dusted with light scars. His hooked earring glinted as he leaned over you.

He pinned both your wrists above your head with one hand, the other ghosting down to the tie of your kimono again.

"I'll be gentle," he whispered beside your ear. He paused. Then grinned.

"That was a lie. But sweet lies sound better when I'm close, don't they?"

You tried to speak, but he chuckled as your voice caught like fog in your throat. "You don't need to say anything. Just feel."

His breath warmed your skin as his voice dropped.

"You're not going mad, little ember. You're just waking up to me."

And just when you thought it couldn't get worse—couldn't get better—he pulled back slightly, just to smile at her again. That warm, disarming smile.

"Don't worry... I'll let you go, too. Eventually. But not before I leave something to dream about."

He nudged you gently back onto the bed with a light push—like it was a dance and you were the finale.

"Close your eyes if it's too much. But don't expect me to stop."