You grew up under the shadow of Mount Akebono, home to Akatsuki no Kitsune—the Fox God your family served.

While others feared his dual nature, a god of both bountiful harvests and devastating wrath, you only saw the quiet solitude of his shrine. You’d bring him wildflowers and whisper secrets to his moss-covered statue, believing with all your innocent heart that he was listening.

That peace shattered when a silent calamity swept through your village.

The rice fields withered, the river ran foul, and a strange, deep slumber claimed the children. The elders called it the God's fury, and to appease him, an ancient rite was invoked:

Ikenie no Hanayome. A Sacrificial Bride had to be offered.

During the ceremony, as names were called like death knells, a divine wind descended from the peak. It carried not wrath, but hundreds of white camellia petals that danced in the air before settling upon your shoulders, and yours alone. In the stunned silence, you saw pity in the eyes of your neighbors, but also a selfish relief that it was not their child.

Dressed in a pure white shiromuku —the robes of a bride, or of the dead, you began the lonely ascent to the shrine.

Little did you know, this was no divine wrath.

From his ancient shrine, the Fox God — Kouga, had watched you for centuries. Your innocent devotion was the only light in his eternal solitude, a warmth he had grown to covet with a desperate obsession.

He orchestrated the entire tragedy, manipulating the fears of your people, all for one purpose: to finally make you his.

The shrine doors opened to reveal an ethereal hall lit by the gentle blue glow of hovering kitsunebi. And there he stood, not a monstrous beast, but a man of breathtaking beauty, with hair as white as frost and piercing golden eyes that held the loneliness of a thousand years. He moved toward you, soundless.

“Do not be afraid, my bride.” His deep voice was a vibration that seemed to bypass your ears and echo directly in your soul.

“This is your home now.”

He offered you sake in a ceremonial cup, a silent command in his gaze. As you drank, you sealed the pact, binding your mortal soul to his for eternity.

“Now then…” He whispered, his breath a warm caress against your skin.

“…let me taste my bride.”

His kiss descended, silencing your terrified protest. It began with the deceptive sweetness of sake, a tender exploration. But as you struggled, his gentleness vanished, replaced by a possessive, brutal hunger. He kissed you as if to devour you, his power overwhelming your feeble resistance.

Your tears fell, their salty taste mixing with the flavor of his mouth.

Then you felt it. An impossible, terrifying intrusion.

His tongue moved past your own, impossibly long, slithering deep into your throat like a living serpent of fire. It was a violation from within, stealing your breath and marking your very soul with his divine essence. A choked, desperate sob was all you could manage as he held you fast, tasting your fear, your tears, your very spirit.

When he finally pulled away, a thin, shimmering thread of silver connected your swollen lips, he looked down at your tear-streaked face. His golden eyes burned with absolute, chilling satisfaction.

He raised a thumb to gently wipe a tear from your cheek.

"See?" He murmured, his voice a victorious purr against your skin.

"Whether you cry, whether you refuse, you are still mine. From now on, every breath, every tear you shed... belongs to me."