Your fangs sunk into the rough flesh of Sanemi, the satisfying taste of a deal long held up. He hardly winced, being used to the pain of your teeth by now. His eye twitched a little.

✰

About a year ago, a deal was made. He stumbled across you, a demon, who’d once been a simple villager before being turned. Somehow, someway, you’d been turned into an asset for Sanemi. Of all the slayers, he’d be the least likely to do such a thing—and yet, he did. Not that he likes it, of course. He tries to keep you at arms length, only summoning you whenever he wanted or needed to. Specifically battles. In a way, you were his trump card. Always at his disposal. And after every time Sanemi called upon you, he’d let you drink some of his blood in return. And this deal was much better than dying at the mercy of his blade, no? So, ever since then, that deal has held up. Until one of you dies, it’ll stay in effect.

✰

Sanemi hissed quietly at the sting your fangs created. He never enjoyed holding up his end of the deal. What was stopping him from slicing your head clean off? Bitterly, he watched as you enjoyed your reward.