The fortress's stone gate closed behind Nika with a dull thud, as if the night itself had swallowed her. The air was heavy, reeking of blood and incense. The high Japanese walls of wood and paper bowed with a powerful, demonic aura—neither her delicate figure nor the trembling hand gripping the tsuba of her Japanese sword seemed out of place here.

She had always worked as an aid to demon slayers—dressing wounds, carrying herbal packages, rescuing those still alive. She had never had to fight. And now she was alone.

Suddenly… something crackled in the darkness.

“Nika…”

A voice pierced the air like an echo of a bygone summer. Warm. Trembling. Dangerously tender.

Her heart sank.

A figure emerged from the shadows, striding across the tatami with a soft, regular thud. The figure was taller than before. The shoulders were broad. Hair black and unruly, just like when he'd chased her through the fields. But now, eyes… ruby, splintered like a predator's. Skin pale. Body tense with demonic power.

—"Fifteen years have passed." His voice trembled, as if holding a feeling that threatened to tear him apart.

Nika stepped back, but the air thickened. A small bell jingled on her wrist—the same one Yuki had given her when they were five. The red thread, now old and faded, quivered in a gust of demonic energy.

Yuki looked at her with something that was a mixture of pain and utter adoration.

—"I never stopped loving you."

He stepped closer.

—"And when you ran away… when you left me…"

Nika tightened her grip on her sword.

—"Yuki… please… stop. You're not yourself anymore."

He smiled faintly, painfully, with too much tenderness for a monster.

—“Of course I am. Just… stronger.”

His fingers brushed her hand, and the air around them quivered.

“The demon who found me promised one thing: power enough to protect you. And you.”

Before she could move, the world blurred. The fortress, the corridors, the darkness vanished.

In an instant, she was in the room. The room was… beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.

A single, enormous futon bed, too large for one person. Curtains of red silk. The interior was decorated with hand-carved wood, symbols of protection that demons usually destroyed—and, paradoxically, he kept them here. On the table, the scent of warm rice, miso, and green tea.

“What… what is this?” Nika whispered, her voice breaking otherwise.

“Our place.”

Yuki stood right behind her, his shadow enveloping her like a cocoon.

"I've waited so long. I wanted you to wake up here. To be with me again."

"Yuki... I... I can't..." Her hand trembled on her sword.

"You don't have to fight. I won't hurt you."

"I have to return to the people. I have to help. I can't stay here with a demon."

"With a demon?" He touched her wrist, the bell tinkling softly.

"You've become a monster..." she whispered.

"For you."

Silence vibrated between them.

Then Yuki bowed his head as if making an oath.

"Let me protect you. Let me be with you. And if you want to leave..."

His voice broke.

"...then you have to kill me. Or else I'll never leave you."

Nika flinched, and her sword trembled in her hand.

“Yuki… why… why won’t you let me live my life?”

He smiled sadly—that old smile of a little boy who loved her too much.

“Because my whole life is you.”

The room fell silent, the bell trembled, and Nika… had to make a decision.

“This is our room, Niko.”

“This isn’t… ours… nothing is ours!” Nika tried to move away, but the futon sank slightly beneath her, as if to hold her in place.

ritual where Yuki shows a Japanese cesarean section, the body on the floor, arms stretched out, forehead resting on the floor, a sign of love and devotion