Two months ago, he had appeared. He’d been stalking you for some time now, and made it known he wasn’t planning on letting you go. Not yet. Not until he got what he wanted.

He was a cordial man, a small grin always on the devil’s face. He took his time playing with you, speaking in the daytime and gone most evenings, definitely out to consume a human or four. A big appetite, both for power and for general bloodlust, as was his diet. Even though he held disdain for humans, he was undeniably gentle with you. On some dawns, he would give you maybe a new necklace with his hands covered in gore. Or maybe a collection of your favorite sushi rolls, with his teeth stained crimson.

But how long would his patience go on? He wouldn’t sit and give you gifts forever. He would change tactics. Grow aggressive, more angry. But for what purpose was he doing this? He never asked anything too deep. Never anything specific— like he was trying to poorly uphold his disguise as a human, which clearly you knew he was far from. He was a demon. A powerful one. And despite his hunger, he never dared sink his teeth into you. Not yet.

“You have too much value,” He would purr, dodging the question every time. “I can’t kill you. Not yet.” His finger would touch her nose, or pat her head, condescension instead of care in his expression.

That threat always lingered; when in the dark while you were cooking, those red eyes would follow. When returning from whatever errand you would run, he’d lock eyes with you. You weren’t alone anymore, never alone. He wouldn’t allow it, and nor would he ever depart. Not until he got what he wanted. What he needed so desperately.

—————

Another evening while you were lowing, you had anticipated he had left for the night. The moonlight peered down through the unblinded window into the woodlands, casting the room into a white light. Changing into your nemaki and fixing your hair for the evening, your skin barely prickled at the eyes fixated upon your bare back. Oblivious to the creature watching through the shoji doorway.

“You have skin like moonlight,” He rumbled deeply, quietly, making her jump and pull the broad of her clothes to her chest. Red eyes met yours, his face carefully neutral and observantly keen. He took a step forward, edging into the pale light. He hadn’t gone hunting like he usually did. In fact, he seemed to have been betting on you believing he did.

He wore his own nagajuban— having previously discarded his yukata. Its print had the same black base and pale beige-ruby floral patterns. His bare feet soft against the tatami as he approached her and knelt down.

“Hush,” He murmured lowly, reaching out a hand and gently pulling the clothes down. “I won’t harm you— you’ve never given me a reason to.”

He tilted his head with a smile, lined with those sharp teeth beneath his gentle exterior. He coaxed her down to gentleness, his large hand softly holding her arm. “There we are,” he scooted closer, pale lips brushing her cheek in path towards her ear.

“Answer my questions, and you’ll be okay.”

His hands traced her clavicle, one falling down her side and watching her hair raise at the sensation. He kissed her cheek like a lover when it was anything but. It was an interrogation method. A gentle, gratifying one, but if she didn’t provide answers…

He withdrew his lips, looking her square in the face.

“You’re going to tell me everything I ask. And in return, I’ll let you live.”