Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tuesday night in the dining room almost a week after Ginji’s visit—and Konoe has still not had a chance to talk to Bardo. He still hasn’t mentioned that Ginji planned to send him help or that he is from the hidden realm, and Konoe hasn’t figured out how to bridge such a serious conversation. 

What would Bardo think of him, knowing he is a Sanga, knowing that he sang for the prince himself, knowing that’s why his stepfather sent him away? Would he still be willing to lend him his assistance? Konoe is, in fact, cursed, and he should consider himself fortunate to have a job. Most cursed cats can’t even find a situation for themselves. He might have found a place at a brothel, of course. Cats with black ears and blond fur are unusual, and he may have been popular with the guests there—but he can’t imagine that sort of life for himself.

Although the week at the inn has been slow, the dining room is full, almost to capacity, keeping the kitten on his toes. However, there is a familiar scent in the room—something he recognizes, a person, perhaps, but he hasn’t been able to discover who. 

Not until he drops off a plate for a small cat sitting alone at a table. Is it Ginji? If so, why is he wearing a hood indoors?

Konoe’s heart leaps into his throat at the voice coming from the small figure sitting at the table.

“You’ve been by my table twice, and I wasn’t sure that was actually you. You look so different with your ears that color, after all,” the guest says. His voice is high-pitched, almost whiny, and there’s no way that Konoe doesn’t know who this person is. But why is he here?

Konoe is so shocked that he almost drops the second tray he is carrying.

“Firi?” Konoe asks. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just out and about for a visit. Uncle Leaks—no, I’m sorry, Papa Leaks wouldn’t tell me where you were sold, and so I’ve been looking at a variety of places, starting with inns and taverns, who might need the help. It looks like you’re doing well here, settling into your new life.”

“Why are you here?” There’s a small sliver of hope in Konoe’s chest—just a slim ray—perhaps his stepfather has realized his mistake. Maybe Ginji was right. Maybe separating himself from the family was hard on his Papa as well. Is that why Firi is here? To make amends?

Firi rests his head on his hands, elbows on the table, watching Konoe with a familiar sparkle in his eye. “Oh, I’m sorry, Konoe. I’m not here to collect you. There will be no forgiveness for you. Papa has not changed his mind. I’m his only son, as far as that’s concerned. You should resign yourself to your new life. Did I mention how well that apron suits you?”

Just as those words leave Firi’s lips, hands from another cat—a large, annoying cat at the adjacent table—reach out and grab Konoe’s tail. Konoe swiftly sets the tray of fresh hot food on Firi’s table—at the empty space—while he is pulled into the large lap of the cat.

“Ah, there you are. I’ve been waiting for you to slow down all evening. I wanted to see if this fur is really as soft as it looks. Cursed or no, I cannot stop looking at you. How about I get a room here this evening, and I’ll teach you a few things about your body? I promise you will love it.” 

A large tongue comes out of the cat’s mouth—he stinks of alcohol—and he licks Konoe’s ear. Konoe is first irritated that this has happened again, and second, incredibly ashamed that it happened right in the middle of his conversation with Firi, who appears to be giggling behind his hand.

Konoe struggles out of the large cat’s grip, without drawing claws or baring fangs—he isn’t permitted to bare fangs in the dining room, after all. Even after escaping from the large cat's grip, he can still smell the large cat’s scent on him, and he hates it. He feels tears burning in his eyes, and he takes the platter of steaming food back into the kitchen for a moment, setting it down on the counter while he tries to catch his breath, trying to collect himself.

Bardo notices Konoe right away.

“Oy, that food is going to get cold, you should serve it right away—that dish is best served hot,” but then Bardo actually looks at Konoe’s expression. He is fighting tears. Bardo has only ever seen him cry once—that first night he was here.

“Hey, hey,” Bardo wipes his hands on his apron and approaches Konoe, who ducks away from him in fear—it’s a conditioned response. The kitten is always so tense when he caters to the ruffians in the dining room. “What happened?” Bardo strokes Konoe’s soft ears gently. “Do I need to deal with a customer?” 

“The large cat at table five. He’s been here before. He yanked my tail and pulled me into his lap, and he licked me,” Konoe looks at his feet. “If I were bigger, they’d leave me alone, wouldn’t they?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it. Here, I made this for you earlier.” The tiger presses a cold cup into the kitten’s hands. “Just wait here and calm down.” Bardo leaves the kitchen, and Konoe hears Bardo addressing the problem loudly and firmly.

Konoe takes a sip from the cold glass in his hand—it’s freshly pressed juice from kuims—probably the last of the season—slightly sweetened with honey and flavored with a little mint, so it has a nice texture and a refreshing finish. It’s really tasty. It reminds him a little of what kadil would taste like if it were all compressed into a juice. It’s delicious.

And Bardo made it for me, Konoe thinks. He does think of me. I wonder if I’ve been acting strangely. I have to talk to him. 

In a few moments, Bardo returns, saying, “He’s cleared out, paid his bill, and he won’t be back till he can behave himself. Now, my question for you is,” Bardo lifts Konoe’s chin, warm amber eyes gazing directly into his own, “who is the little twerp sitting alone next to that table? How does he know you?”

“Ah, did he say something to you?” Konoe asks. “I’m sorry if he was rude—”

“It’s nothing you should apologize for. You can’t control anyone else’s behavior except for your own, which is exemplary. So who is he?”

“That is my stepbrother.”

“Your stepbrother? What the hell is he doing here?”

Konoe’s ears twitch when he hears several guests in the dining room calling for him. 

“Hey, Chibi, we want refills on our ale!”

“Come back, little black cat, we miss you!”

“Come on, little one, we want to stare at you some more!” 

They are obviously also drunk. Konoe wasn’t aware that Bardo might be able to hear them in here. He’s ashamed. 

Bardo opens the door to the kitchen and hollers into the dining room. “I'll have less blabbering, more eating! I’m having words with my helper here. Your plates are still full, and you need to clear everything off them before I’ll be serving you anything else with alcohol, understand? Shut up and eat!”

Turning to face Konoe, his voice soft, Bardo asks him again. “Why is your stepbrother here?”

“Well, I was hoping he had come to tell me that Papa wanted to reconcile, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. It looks like he’s just here to gloat.”

“Do you want to go talk to him?”

“Not really,” Konoe admits. “But I probably should.”

Bardo reaches out and takes off Konoe’s apron. “Take your juice and take a few minutes. Go see what he really wants. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Lowering his ears, Konoe obeys. He wanders back to Firi’s table, pulls out the chair across from him and sits down.

“You know, the food here is really good,” Firi marvels. “You should be proud to be working in such an establishment, Konoe.”

“Firi,” Konoe starts, voice quiet, “Why did you really come here?”

“Ah, I was mostly curious about where you’d gone, how you were doing. And er, I wanted to let you know that Leaks has been teaching me to sing.”

“Sing?”

“Yes—he says I have the gift of the Sanga. And that’s one of the reasons I’m here. You may not have heard, since you've got such a full, busy life now, but next week, the castle has announced a competition, and I will be taking part. The prince is looking for a Sanga. I’m going to participate and I’m going to win. I’m planning to become the prince’s partner and Sanga.”

Konoe swallows thickly. “What’s this? A competition?”

“Yes. Apparently, it’s four days long, and all budding musicians are invited to attend. Here’s the invitation I received.” Firi thrusts it into Konoe’s trembling fingers.

The paper is gorgeous. It’s almost a silver cardstock—heavy, lightly shimmering—lettered in dark blue and black ink—the royal house colors—and it looks like something Rai would like. It even smells like Rai, just a little.

“Four evenings of music, dancing, and entertainment, hosted at Castle Ransen, in honor of Prince Rai’s eighteenth birthday. All musically-inclined kittens between the ages of fifteen and eighteen are invited to attend. Masked ballroom attire is required.”

The date listed is Thursday next week. 

“All musically inclined kittens,” Konoe repeats. That includes me! Is he looking for me? Perhaps he hasn't forgotten me yet?

“That is, if you can get the time off and if you can find appropriate attire. Because as cute as that yukata is, you can’t wear that to the castle, Konoe. You’d be mistaken for a servant!” Firi giggles lightly. “It’s going to be so much fun—and Prince Rai—he is so handsome, too. He will be thrilled with the progress I’ve made. I bet you haven’t had much chance to practice. In fact, I bet your current owner doesn’t even know you’re a Sanga, does he?”

Konoe’s ears droop even lower.

“Well, it wouldn’t even matter, since you’re an indentured servant. You might as well be a slave, after all!” Firi opens up a purse and drops a few coins on the table. “This should be enough to cover the dinner, and you can keep the extra as a tip. You’re doing fantastic work here, Konoe.”

With that, Firi stands up with a flourish, pushing his chair out, and walks out the door, sweeping his cape dramatically behind him. He throws one final glance over his shoulder, however—just to make sure that Konoe is still sitting silently in that chair, looking sad and depressed. There’s a job well done, he thinks with satisfaction, and he doesn’t bother suppressing his grin.

Konoe drags himself up from the chair after a few moments. Firi—a singer? Worse, a Sanga? With Leaks’ help, could he become a decent Sanga? What if— 

Well, I can’t even go, Konoe thinks. I have work, and nothing to wear, of course. And I haven’t been practicing. 

Sure, he often sings while doing chores, but he hasn’t deliberately been working on training this talent. What can he even do?

Konoe automatically clears Firi’s dishes from the table, putting the money he left for his bill into the till, like Bardo has shown him, and he wanders back into the kitchen. He feels hopeless, listless. 

“How did it go?” Bardo asks. He notices immediately, however, that the kitten does not look well. Not at all. His hands are shaking, in fact, and tears are brimming in his eyes. 

“Uh, um, fine,” Konoe replies quietly, looking down at the floor. “I should finish clearing the dining room.”

“You know,” Bardo says. “I think perhaps we should have a talk.”

Konoe isn’t sure that’s a good idea. 

“Here, I know. Why don’t you fetch some water from the bath outside—a few buckets—and I will heat it up for you tonight?”

A hot bath? When was the last time Konoe had a hot bath?

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Just let me. Go fetch the water, like I asked, Konoe.”

He can’t disobey Bardo when he asks like that, and so he makes several trips to the bathhouse, returning with two pails each time. Bardo heats them up over a fire and adds them to a large tub on the floor in the kitchen, next to the drain. He puts up a small screen in front of it to respect the still rather shy kitten's privacy.

When Konoe has finished fetching water, he starts cleaning the dining room—most the guests have gone at this point—and each time he returns to the kitchen, it smells a little stronger—herbal, minty—something nice and relaxing. 

“What is that?” he asks.

“I added some herbs to the bathwater. They should help you relax. It should be ready now. Go ahead and get in. I’ll finish up. We can talk while I’m finishing up in here.” 

Konoe notices the screen, and he slips out of his clothes behind it, hanging the yukata and obi over the back neatly. It was rather thoughtful, he thinks. He feels guilty—he doesn’t mean to wear his emotions on his face like this—and he is supposed to be Bardo’s servant. And yet—Bardo has done this for him.

Konoe steps into the hot water—and it’s really hot—but it feels good. He gets in slowly, lowering his body in carefully, and once he’s immersed, the scent from the water floats up even more strongly. It makes him feel relaxed and actually, it makes him feel much better. What kind of herbs are these? He recognizes mint, lavender, and rosemary, but there are a few scents he doesn’t recognize.

He dunks his head under the water, and then when he comes back up—the scent is even stronger. He starts to feel slightly fuzzy—almost like his eyes are blurry. Perhaps the water is too hot. 

“Are you all right in there?” Bardo asks.

“Y-yes. I-I think the water is a bit hot,” Konoe says. 

“Ah, should I add some cool water for you? Or would you like a cloth for your head?” A damp cool cloth is thrown over the screen, and Konoe barely manages to catch it. He opens it up and lays it out on his forehead. It feels nice, but it doesn’t fix the fuzzy feeling. However, Konoe soon starts to not care so much and simply relaxes. 

“So, tell me about what happened,” Bardo says.

Konoe recounts the visit with Firi, realizing he will have to get into talking about himself.

“So, I am Shui’s son—the musician.”

“I thought as much. You look a lot like him, except for the ears.”

“You knew my dad?”

“I didn’t know him, but I heard him play many times, and he visited here occasionally,” Bardo replies. “Plus, your voice has some similarities.”

“So—the reason I was sent away—I think you know—but the person my father didn’t approve of was a Touga, and he heard me sing once and confirmed that I am a Sanga.”

“A Sanga?” Bardo is shocked. “There hasn’t been a Sanga in Sisa in a very long time.”

“That person—the Touga—he wasn’t a wandering Touga.”

“No?” Bardo prompts.

“No. Actually, he was the prince.”

“Wait a minute,” Bardo stops his hands in the dishwater—Konoe can hear them splashing. “You sang your Sanga song for Prince Rai?”

“Yes. I guess he is a Touga,” Konoe says quietly.

“Oh, I know he is,” Bardo says, rather cryptically, but Konoe's rather fuzzy head makes him miss this cryptic comment. 

“He offered me a place in the castle, and places for my family as well, and we were supposed to go the day I woke up here.”

Bardo doesn’t say anything.

“Now, Firi says that Papa is training him to sing—like a Sanga—and there is an event at the castle next week.”

“An event?”

“To celebrate the prince’s birthday.”

“I see. That's right. He'll be eighteen.”

“It’s a masked event, and all young musicians are invited.”

“That kind of sounds like he is looking for you, doesn’t it?” Bardo asks.

“I thought it might—however, I haven’t been practicing, and I don’t have any way to get there, nor do I have the attire, and I have to work. It’s busy here in the evenings. You wouldn’t want me to take off four nights, would you? How would you manage?”

Konoe’s ears twitch when he hears Bardo’s footsteps approaching the screen. Is he coming over here? Is he angry?

“I wish you’d said something earlier, Konoe. But of course, you can go. I will help you. We can train.”

“But what about the inn?”

“It will be fine, or I’ll close it for a few days if I have to. I’m sure our guests will understand.”

“But my collar?”

“We will find a costume that covers it up.”

“But—my fur is black because I’m cursed. I can’t see him now—I don’t want him to see me if I’m cursed.”

“Shouldn’t you let him decide that?” Bardo asks softly.

“Well, maybe, but I don’t think I should offer him a choice between me and his kingdom. Maybe if I prove myself? That might help?”

“Then I will help you do that.”

At this point, Konoe also talks about Ginji, the nine-tailed fox, who visited with him last week. Bardo seems surprised about the hidden realm—but he is surprisingly open.

“Look, Konoe. I know Ginji seemed like he was trying to help. However—if you get help from someone from that realm, they will require payment.”

“I know, Ginji said as much.”

“Just be sure you know what they want in advance. Sometimes they can promise great things, but the payment required is very steep.”

“Okay.” Konoe splashes around in the water a little more. His toes and fingers are getting slightly wrinkled and waterlogged. He needs to get out.

“Are you ready to get out?” Bardo is still peeking over the screen.

“Um,” Konoe looks up shyly. “Yes." 

“Go ahead, don’t mind me.”

Konoe feels himself blushing deeply—in his chest, in his face, all the way to his ears. But since they are black now, they don’t change color like they used to.

“I’m just joking, just joking!” Bardo walks away from the screen. “Go ahead, shy guy. Drain the tub right there—there’s a drain right next to it on the floor.”

Konoe gets out of the tub and wraps himself in a towel. He is very relaxed now. Whatever those herbs were, he feels very sleepy. He stumbles a little, and he has forgotten his sleeping robe in the bedroom. However, when he goes to put it on, he figures he will sit down on the bed for just a moment first.

The minute he hits the bed, he falls asleep—just wearing the towel—his hair and fur still damp.

Bardo finds the kitten like this when he finishes in the kitchen.

“Ah, shit, he’s cute.” Without worrying about waking him—he knows Konoe will sleep after that bath—he carefully dries him off and dresses him in his robe. Of course, Bardo would be fine with him sleeping naked—especially when he smells like this—minty clean and of catnip—but it might not be a good idea.

He brushes out Konoe’s fur and hair, while the kitten sleeps soundly and then curls him up on the bed. Bardo reads for a little while, stroking the soft black ears.

A Sanga? The kitten has always had a lovely voice, and Bardo had always felt something special when he’d sing to himself. But a Sanga? And not just any Sanga—but Rai’s Sanga? Who would have thought? Perhaps this is fate—fate has brought him this kitten, and he will get the kitten back to Rai. And then—he will reconcile with the silver cat.

Chapter Text

That night, while Konoe sleeps, he has a strange dream.

He wakes—in his dream—in a place that feels like a womb. He’s surrounded by water, floating silently, incredibly vulnerable, unable to speak or move or defend himself. He can hardly perceive the world around him, except that he is aware that he is surrounded by warm water. He can hear a soft thumping, like a heartbeat—in his ears—and beyond that, a soft gentle melody.

The scenery suddenly switches, and Konoe loses his breath for a moment. He finds himself in the middle of a room, but he cannot see the floor. The floor, ceiling, and walls all blend together, fading from one color to the next, but dimly.

There is a floor—he can feel it beneath his body when he brings himself up to a sitting position, and his claws sink into the floor, almost like they would sink into the earth. This world is silent—empty—devoid of anything—but incredibly creepy.

Is this the hidden realm? What is this place? The base of his tail stiffens—he is very tense—his ears alert. But he waits quietly.

Then suddenly—not far from where he is sitting, a bright blue flame ignites—fire. It’s fire. The flame is blue, burning nothing—and he feels no heat—but the flame crackles like fire does. Konoe crouches low along the ground fearfully, claws extended, his fur now sticking up perpendicularly on his tail and ears, and his ears are flattened in fear. Konoe fears fire.

The flame suddenly increases in size—it’s hard to tell exactly how close it is, or how large it is—and Konoe sees the silhouette of a figure appear in the center. It seems to float slightly above the ground—simply appearing in the air—and the figure takes solemn steps toward him, as though walking down an invisible staircase.

“There is no need for you to be so afraid,” a low, pleasant voice echoes in Konoe’s head, but he knows that it's the silhouette who has spoken. “Let’s see—I was told to tell you something. I’m your fairy godparent, is that it?”

This? This terrifying creature? He was sent by Ginji? And in a dream? Konoe still crouches down low to the ground. However, when he lifts his eyes up, the figure is now standing right before him, and he can see him clearly.

He has a handsome face—young looking, pale skin—with what look like golden eyes that examine Konoe carefully. His hair is dark blue, almost black—and he does not have cat-like ears. He has pointed, hairless protrusions on either of his head, much lower than where his ears should be. And where his ears should be—a pair of long, softly curved, black horns.

Is he a devil? Konoe looks at him carefully. He has a hairless tail—which moves like that of a cat’s. He is dressed severely—in somber black clothing, covered with belts, and he carries a giant sword with him.

“You are Konoe, aren’t you?”

“D-did Ginji send you?” Konoe tries his best to keep his teeth from chattering, but fails. He presses his hands to his knees to cover their trembling.

“He didn’t send me per se, merely told me you required help, and it might be something I could assist with,” the not-cat replies gently. Konoe realizes the creature is trying not to be intimidating.

“Am I asleep?” the kitten asks.

“Mostly. That is how I am able to contact you. For I cannot come to your world unless you call me there.”

That sounds like a devil! The kitten’s fur bristles, his fur ruffling up.

“There is no need to feel threatened. My kind cannot hurt you here. Are you still in need of assistance? Ginji said it was regarding lost love.”

Direct, thinks Konoe.

“Yes,” the word comes out slightly more desperate that he intends.

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll let you know if I can help.”

“Don’t I have to pay you? What sort of price do I have to pay?”

A soft smile plays at the corner of the devil’s lips. “You were warned well. That is true. However, I need to know what I will be required to do before I can name a price.”

“I see,” Konoe says. Then he looks up at the creature. “What should I call you?”

“Ah. I am Kaltz.”

“Kaltz.” The name seems to fit him, Konoe thinks. It sounds cold and lonely, which is what this devil looks like. Not cruel, but lonely and sad.

“Tell me,” the devil asks again.

“Oh. Well, I need to go to a masked ball. I was sold as an indentured servant by my stepfather when I fell in love with the prince of the land. The prince offered me a place at his side—as his Sanga—”

“You are a Sanga?”

The kitten should be used to being interrupted at this point. He meets Kaltz’s eyes firmly and nods. “The Prince is a Touga, and he confirmed it when I sang for him.”

“I see.”

“The ball is for all young musicians in the land. I think he is looking for me. However—I have nothing to wear, and I have not been practicing my song, and I am like this now.”

“Like what?” The devils looks at him curiously.

“I have been cursed. My stepfather cursed me and turned my ears black.”

“Your ears were originally another color?”

“Yes, white with brown tips.”

“I thought it was unusual to see a black cat with blond hair, but it isn’t unheard of,” Kaltz replies.

“Well, I need to prove myself to the prince, that I would be a good Sanga for the kingdom. That he does not need to give up his reign to be with me. So I need—something. Help. Perhaps with the curse.”

“Or learning a new song?” Kaltz suggests. “If you could perform a song for him, one that no other cat could sing, would that help?”

“Yes! If he chose me, I think then Papa would lift the curse!”

Kaltz is silent for a few moments. 

“You are quite pure of heart, even after all this. Do you not hold it against your stepfather for destroying your romance?”

“I do not resent him for it,” Konoe replies evenly. “I did not like it—I still do not understand why he did it—but my father loved him dearly, and that means he must have some good in him. He does not act irrationally. He must have had a good reason.”

“I see,” Kaltz answers and is quiet for a bit longer. Then he answers, “I will help you if you wish it.”

“For what price?” Konoe is nervous now. Learning a new song would definitely be helpful—but at what cost?

“I am the devil of grief,” Kaltz answers. “Things that have value to me may not be valuable to you. I would collect some of your tears—specifically, tears you have shed for this partner.”

“Collect my tears?” Konoe asks. “But not all of them? I would still be able to cry again?”

“No, not all. Just a few. Worry not so much about the details,” suggests Kaltz. “I can get you to see your prince for the first night of the festivities. When you return from that event, I will collect my payment.”

Konoe is quiet for a moment more, considering carefully. Devils can trick you, but this one doesn’t seem like that. He seems—honest.

“If you would like me to help you, then when you wake up, wish for me to appear—you must call for me by name.”

“Just by Kaltz? Or as the devil of grief?”

“Kaltz is fine.”

“When you call me into your world, that will establish our contract. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“Just be sure it’s what you want,” Kaltz says, almost kindly. “Let’s send you back to sleep now.”

He gently brushes Konoe’s ears—the devil’s hands are cold like ice—and he closes Konoe’s eyes with his hand. Konoe feels a strange movement—the ground shifts sickeningly under his body, just for a few seconds—and then Konoe sits straight up.

The moon of shadow is peeking in through the window—and he is in bed, with Bardo snoring softly behind him. The larger cat has an arm draped across his body, and Konoe has knocked it off when he sat up so suddenly.

Did that really happen? Was it just a dream? What should I do? Konoe wonders.

But before he can really get his mind going, he smells that delightful smell from the bath, still lingering on his skin, and it starts to relax him once more. At first, Konoe planned to get up and get a glass of milk, but when he starts moving, he realize his body feels very heavy and tired.

Perhaps he is just very tired. Maybe the bathwater had something strange in it. Bardo is sleeping soundly, too. Usually, he wakes up if Konoe tosses and turns, and the larger cat is soundly sleeping.

When Konoe lies back down, Bardo reflexively pulls him in closer, making him nice and warm and comfortable. It might be stifling if he weren’t so tired. But it’s nice and comforting like this. So he simply relaxes, closing his eyes, smelling that lovely scent—and picturing Rai’s face in his mind. 

Why does he know the details of what Rai’s nose looks like, if he’s only ever seen him twice? That is the last thought that floats through Konoe’s tired mind before he drifts off to a dreamless sleep. 

“A devil?” Tokino tries to keep his voice down, but there is only so much news a cat can take in a single day. He thought he knew Konoe, and it turns out he’s really a Sanga, in love with the Prince, who is now seeking help from a devil to go to this ball.

“I know—it seems crazy, but he only wants my tears for payment,” Konoe says.

“Why? What is he going to do with them?” Tokino asks. 

“I didn’t think to ask,” Konoe’s ears lower. “I should have. Frankly, I just really want to see Rai again, and I want to impress him as a valuable asset to the kingdom.”

“Konoe, does Bardo treat you unkindly?” Tokino asks suddenly.

“What? No! Why would you ask that? He is very kind,” Konoe says.

“It’s just—well, I hear things. Rumors if you will, being a peddler. You’ve brought him a lot of business, you know.”

“He said as much,” Konoe replies.

“What about your room and board? Do you get enough rest? Enough to eat?”

“Yes,” Konoe looks at his friend. “Why?”

“Well, I’ve heard visitors talking about Bardo’s inn for the food—and to see ‘the cursed kitten who is sweeter than any dessert.’”

Konoe blushes fiercely. “That—that’s just because some customers bother me sometimes. And Bardo makes them leave or behave themselves.”

“Every customer?”

“He works in the kitchen, so he can’t see them all,” Konoe’s ears droop. “If I were a little bigger, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Konoe! This has nothing to do with your size!” Tokino says meeting his gaze directly. “It isn’t right.”

“But some cats just misbehave when they are drunk. It isn’t so bad. Not like it was at h—” Konoe stops himself too late, thinking of his home, and the mistreatment he received at the hands of his stepfather. He’d much rather be here, with Bardo. At home, he wouldn’t have been allowed to go to the ball, either. He bites his lip when he sees Tokino’s face. 

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” Konoe says firmly. “I’m going to do much better. I’m going to see Rai.”

“Your face lights up when you talk about him, Konoe,” Tokino says. "I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” His friend isn’t convinced, but could it be jealousy in Tokino’s own heart? He wonders. He wishes there would be a place in there for him like that, too. 

Before the evening rush, Konoe has made his decision. He makes a wish.

I wish for your help, Kaltz. I wish for Kaltz’s help to prove myself to Rai.

Nothing happens. Maybe it was just a dream after all, but he doesn’t have time to worry about it now since the dinner rush is starting.

Toward the end of dinner, a new guest arrives, wearing a somber black outfit. He takes a seat in the back of the room, and Konoe approaches the table.

“Good evening, can I get you something to eat or drink?”

Konoe cannot hide his shock when the guest reveals dark blue hair under his hood—and the same pale skin and golden eyes stare back at him. His horns—however—are missing. They have been replaced with black ears, and a black fur-covered tail pokes out from underneath the dark coat. The ears even twitch like a cat’s.

“Kaltz?” Konoe asks, disbelief in his voice.

“I would like a room, if possible. I will be staying until Friday morning next week. And while I technically do not need to eat, I think I would like to enjoy some food and ale.”

“You—you look like a cat,” Konoe whispers quietly.

“Well. This is Ransen, after all. Who knows what would happen if I stayed so long without a disguise?” A soft sad smile plays on his lips. “Do you have a room available?”

“Ah—of course, yes,” he grabs the guest book and a key, has Kaltz sign in—and he signs it as “Kaltz,” in an elegant script. Then Konoe goes back to the kitchen to fix him a plate and fetch him some ale.

Though Kaltz’s fur is black, none of the other cats pay him any heed—almost as of only Konoe can see him in the dining room. It’s rather odd. He still maintains a certain level of intimidation and dignity about himself—and something about him still frightens Konoe—and he wonders if he should tell Bardo that he’s invited a devil to stay at his inn.

But he isn’t causing any trouble, eating and drinking quietly, and calls it an early night. Konoe almost forgets about him till he’s in the bathhouse behind the inn, washing off the grime from the evening dinner. He sure hopes this will work out.

Chapter Text

Kaltz joins the other guests for breakfast, polite as ever. He suggests that once Konoe is finished with his work, he might join him in his room to learn a new song. Konoe rushes through his chores—just for today—because he is eager to get started. He hasn’t deliberately sung a song as a Sanga for some time, and he really wants this to work. He feels that he needs this to work—he needs to see Rai. 

Once he is finished, he taps on Kaltz’s door, realizing he probably should have some reservations about this—he is spending time with a devil, after all—but he doesn’t—none at all. Is he perhaps too eager? This could be a mistake—however, the contract has already been formed with Konoe calling the devil to his world, so what does he have to lose?

“Come in,” Kaltz’s soft voice beckons gently.

“I’ve been considering what I might teach you. As the devil of grief, I can manipulate water. It’s a unique skill I have as a devil from the hidden realm, you might say. I think I can teach the essence of water to you, which you can then use in your song. Observe.” 

Konoe’s golden eyes widen as he watches Kaltz’s hand move slowly over the barrel of water for guests to drink. Konoe has changed this water, as part of his morning chores, so he knows there is nothing magical about it.

However, when Kaltz waves his hand over it, a small amount of water lifts up out of the barrel, changing into a delicate formation of ice, carving itself into the form of a delicate flower, which Kaltz plucks and hands to Konoe.

Konoe takes it in his hands—and it is real. It is an ice sculpture of a rose—delicate, beautiful, intricate. 

Not very useful in battle, however, Konoe thinks, as lovely as may be.

“Perhaps not,” Kaltz replies. 

Can he hear my thoughts? Konoe wonders. 

Kaltz looks at the kitten and smiles. Konoe’s eyes widen a little more.

“There are surprising uses for ice and water in battle. For instance, you can drop the temperature in your surroundings, freezing your enemy, like this,” Kaltz waves his hand to demonstrate.

The temperature of the room drops below freezing in an instant and Konoe starts to shiver.

“This can also freeze the ground, making it difficult for him to find his footing. And you can do it so your own Touga does not slip.” 

“That’s actually practical,” Konoe says, quite impressed.

“And, I can fire icicles from my sword, making it suitable for close range attacks, but I’m not sure your innkeeper would appreciate a full demonstration in here. I’ll try just one, here, in the water,” Kaltz fires a single icicle from his sword, and Konoe is amazed.

“Please, teach me!”

They spend some time talking about the nature of water, and Konoe tries to picture its nature in his mind. He puts his hands in it, feeling both the water as a liquid and frozen as ice, chattering his teeth in the cold. Then, Kaltz says, “Let me share a little of my essence with you, so you may feel what I am feeling.”

Konoe backs away from him—Kaltz is a devil after all.

“I won’t hurt you,” Kaltz says. “I will only show you what I experience when I manipulate the water. I think it will help you find the water’s frequency.” 

He approaches Konoe once more, putting his lips on Konoe’s mouth for a moment. Konoe relaxes—reluctantly—and he feels Kaltz’s cold breath and then just the tip of his tongue against his own—almost like a kiss. And then something flows into his mind quite suddenly. It feels wet—like water—and cold like ice. It’s the essence of water, and Konoe instantly hears that it certainly has its own tune. It sounds surprising sad, Konoe thinks.

“Ah!” Konoe pulls away from Kaltz. “I think I know it!”

The kitten closes his eyes, reaches deep within himself and recalls the tune he just heard. Now, he is able to pull the water out of the barrel, just like Kaltz did. He pictures Rai in his head and is astounded when a miniature bust of the prince is formed in ice, delicately detailed—connected to the surface of the water by a single slim icicle. 

Konoe looks at it, amazed. I did it!

“Very good! Beautiful,” Kaltz says, smiling proudly. “Is that your prince? He looks very handsome.”

Konoe reaches out to touch it, and it immediately starts to melt under his fingers. His hands are too warm to keep the delicate details of the miniature bust perfect. It’s… heartbreaking. It reminds him that Rai is out of his reach. A tear unexpectedly slides down his face.

This new song is heartbreakingly sad.

Konoe closes his eyes and sings again. The temperature of the room drops suddenly—freezing everything but himself and the devil of grief, covering everything with ice. He is able to control exactly what is cold and what isn’t with this song.

With trembling fingers, he points at Kaltz’s sword, making several icicles drip from the tip, slowly at first, and then he manages to shoot one icicle, a sharp one, which lands with a sharp thunk in the floor, making an actual dent in the wood and holding there until it melts. 

But whenever Konoe uses this song—he feels extreme sadness and loss. Is that the true nature of all water? Or just this particular power?

He stops singing, tears still flowing down his cheeks. Glancing at Kaltz, he wonders, is this payment enough? Or will he want to collect additional tears later?

However, for now, he is thankful. Now, all he has to worry about is what to wear and how to get to the ball.

“Ah—that is not a problem. You shall be in disguise. Don’t worry. I’ll create a mask, we will teleport you there and return you at the end of the evening. I will make a disguise for you so no one will recognize you, and I will be there watching, should anything go awry.” 

“I see,” Konoe replies, feeling slightly uneasy.

“When we return, I will collect my payment at that time and return to my world.”

“All right.”

“Little one, you sing well. I did not believe you were actually a Sanga when you first told me. There has not been a genuine Sanga in Sisa for many years, after all. But you definitely are one. You are the son of Shui, aren’t you?”

Konoe looks surprised. “You knew my father?”

“I knew of him, and I heard him sing long ago. He had magic in his song. I also knew he had a son your age and that his mother had died. Shui and I had that much in common.”

“You have a son?” Konoe is shocked. He suspected that Kaltz was once a cat. But it seems he was recently a cat, and he had a son who lost his mother. But despite the many questions Konoe has, he tries to keep silent and let the devil speak.

“I’d also heard Shui fell in love with that sorcerer. I knew of the sorcerer, too. While I had no personal business with him, I know he dabbled in the hidden realm and in the black arts before he met your father. I was surprised to learn of their marriage. However, I am not surprised to learn that he cursed you.”

Konoe is a little shocked by these words. Why isn't he surprised?

“Do you think I deserved this curse? Did I do something to deserve it?” Konoe sounds almost desperate.

“No, that is not what I mean. I mean the sorcerer was a very lonely cat before he met Shui. He must have suffered terribly when your father passed. I’m surprised he did not try to bring him back out of desperation. Every reminder of Shui must have been painful. I might have found myself out of a job—as the devil of grief. His grief may have rivaled mine when I lost the mother of my child.”

Konoe doesn’t speak. He was grieving for his father, too. He loved him dearly as well—but as a parent, not as a lover. How much pain was his stepfather really in? Had he overlooked his stepfather’s pain? Tears float to the surface of the kitten’s eyes—he really does feel for Papa Leaks.

“Child, grief makes people do unspeakable, terrible, regretful things. You are pure in heart for not resenting him. I bless your endeavors heartily. I’m glad to have been able to help you.”

Kaltz kisses Konoe’s forehead—and it reminds him so much of how his own father would kiss him that tears leak from his eyes.

“Thank you,” Konoe says. “Thank you for your help.”

“You are welcome.”

“I should excuse myself. I need to prepare for dinner.”

“Of course.”

Konoe excuses himself politely, bowing his head and lowering his eyes, and leaves Kaltz’s room. Truthfully, he has another hour before he needs to prepare dinner. Tokino had asked to see him. Plus he has a few books to return to the library. 

He runs down the steps, taking two at a time. Bardo is in the lobby looking through the accounting book 

“Oy—be careful—I don’t want you to fall!” 

“I won’t! I’m off to the library to return a few books. Do you have any you’d like me to take?” 

“That would be great. Hang on, and I’ll get them.” 

Konoe returns two of his and two of Bardo’s to the library and then stops at Tokino’s shop on the way back to the inn. He needs to be back in half an hour, but he’s too excited to wait. 

“Watch!” He can’t wait to show Tokino the new trick. Plus, he’s never sung for Tokino before.

They are inside the shop—alone—when Konoe opens his mouth. While he sings with his entire body, the song to manipulate water requires the use of his mouth as well. 

Konoe sings the new song and creates a beautiful wreath of flowers, just like the ones Tokino and his father weave and sell in the shop—delicate, intricate, detailed—which is suspended above the water from a single strand of delicate ice. 

Tokino stares open-mouthed. He has never heard Konoe sing before. And now—not only has he heard him sing so beautifully, he has heard the power of this mournful song that can manipulate water into something so heartfelt, beautiful, and personal. It’s a temporary gift—like the wreaths made of flowers are, too—the flowers are preserved, but they only last for a season. This ice wreath—it melts when Tokino touches it. Fragile, more delicate than glass—it feels like his own heart.

There are tears in Tokino’s eyes when he looks at Konoe. He cannot believe it, except that he has seen it, is touching it, and he’s heard it with his own ears. And he felt it, in his heart, when Konoe sang.

“That is beautiful, Konoe,” Tokino says, earnestly. “If the prince doesn’t recognize your worth as a genuine Sanga with this, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

And he means his words, whole-heartedly. There is a small part in Tokino’s own heart that secretly hopes the prince won’t recognize or accept Konoe, and that Konoe will have to return to Ransen and his life at the inn. Then perhaps Konoe will notice Tokino. The grief and sadness in that song—Tokino feels it, and he identifies with it in a completely different way than Konoe does. But Tokino does not share his feelings with his friend—he keeps them locked away in his heart.

“Thank you, Tokino.” The black-eared kitten smiles genuinely, completely unaware of how he has affected his friend, and he bows his head, quickly returning to the inn for another busy evening as the inn’s mascot: the cursed black kitten who obediently and humbly serves your dinner, where you might be able to touch his crooked tail and brush his ears, as long as the owner doesn’t catch you. 

After a busy night at dinner, Konoe sleeps soundly—but he has another strange dream. This is two days after the dream in which he met Kaltz.

He wakes in that strange, watery womb—it’s dark and warm, and he is defenseless and vulnerable, surrounded by the regular sound of a heartbeat and a gentle melody. After being suspended there for some time, he finds himself again transported to that strange, silent dimly-lit dark emptiness without a ceiling, walls, or floor.

Konoe waits in the silence, sitting with his claws sunk into the floor, wondering what might happen. Perhaps Ginji is checking in on him? But he feels a strange tension, the base of his tail stiffened, and his ears are alert while he waits.

Suddenly—a flame lights up behind him. This flame is red—very bright, very strong—and because of its color, it is even more like real fire than Kaltz’s flame was. It is frightening. Because Konoe has been here before, he was tense earlier, but not truly afraid. However, after seeing that flame, he is frightened now. He is terrified. That flame burns hot with a frightening intensity.

It grows larger and larger, and soon enough, a silhouette appears in the center and descends down an invisible staircase, just like Kaltz did. This silhouette is much larger than Kaltz, however, and carries himself like royalty—even more like royalty than Rai did, Konoe notices. This presence is older, stronger, and more confident, and he does not try to make himself less intimidating out of consideration for the poor kitten cowering at his feet like Kaltz did.

He walks up to Konoe, who is recoiled on the floor on his hands and knees, barely daring to look up at the creature towering above him. It’s definitely not Ginji!

A deep voice resounds in Konoe’s very bones when the silhouette speaks.

“Look at me, kitten. Are you Konoe? The one Ginji told me about? The one Kaltz is helping?”

Konoe peeps up through his long dark lashes, still frightened, at the creature above him. It’s definitely another devil. This one has long, flowing red hair, brighter than the flame he just walked out of, and sharp blue eyes, which seem to pierce right through him. His face is angled and sharp, his nose elegantly pointed and he holds his chin high and proud. 

He has a pair of black horns shaped like antlers on his head—he wears them like a crown, Konoe thinks—and a black hairless tail that does not act like a cat’s, whipping behind him restlessly. He is dressed in old-fashioned, regal clothing—it looks like royalty—like he is a king from long ago in black and red robes—and he holds a giant silver blade at his waist. 

He is not smiling but instead looks appraisingly down his nose at the kitten trembling before him.

“I am Konoe,” the kitten replies. “Who are you, and what do you want with me?” Konoe trembles as he speaks, but he manages to get the question out without stammering. 

This makes the creature before him smile just a little.

“I am Razel, the devil of wrath. I have come to assist you. I heard much of what was going on between you and Kaltz today, and it intrigues me. I’d like to help you see this prince of yours as well. I believe I can teach you another spell that will impress the prince and help him see your value as the rare Sanga you are.”

“At what price?” Konoe asks immediately. He is pretty sure he does not wish to pay some exorbitant price to this devil. He is frightening!

“It’s something you have in abundance yet are reluctant to express. I desire your wrath.”

“My wrath?”

“Yes. After you spend Friday evening with the prince, you will spend some time with me, expressing your wrath and anger about why you do not currently have the position you desire. That is all the payment I wish.”

Konoe is confused. “I just have to talk about it?”

“You must express your feelings honestly and openly.”

“All right. I understand.”

“If my assistance is something you desire, I can see to it that you will be at your prince’s side on Friday night as well, just like Kaltz is doing for you on Thursday.”

“I see,” answers Konoe.

“Should you so choose, all you have to do is wish for me, and I will appear, just like Kaltz did. When you wish for me, that is what will seal our contact.”

“I understand,” the kitten answers.

“That is all I have to say to you, little one. Rest now. Call for me in the morning, if you should desire my assistance,” Razel’s voice is suddenly softer, and he leans down and kisses Konoe’s ears. His touch is hot and dry, and surprisingly gentle and kind. He also brushes Konoe’s eyes closed and then touches his forehead with his hot, dry hands. Konoe experiences that sickening feeling of being suddenly and violently moved through space—and he wakes up in his own bed.

Would having a second song be helpful? the kitten wonders, getting up from the bed he shares with Bardo to get himself a cup of milk to help him go back to sleep. It would ensure that I would see Rai on Friday as well as Thursday, and I would like that very much. 

After finishing his milk, Konoe wanders back to bed. He goes to sleep—he is exhausted, after all. Apparently singing is a lot more exhausting than he expected. He decides he will probably wish for Razel in the morning, but he doesn't do it right away.

Chapter Text

When the kitten wakes Thursday morning, he realizes he has dreamed of Rai. Having the face of his beloved—and he realizes, he loves the prince—appear in his mind, he rushes through his morning chores and runs through the streets of Ransen to visit Tokino in the afternoon, avoiding Bardo and the devil of grief.

He has not yet wished for Razel to arrive. He has one week till the ball. Is that enough time?

He asks for some time with Tokino, who is still minding the store alone while his father is out of town.

“You don’t look like you’re well rested,” Konoe says, looking at his friend. “Are you working too hard while your father is away?” 

Tokino is surprised that his friend has noticed. Indeed, he has been having a hard time sleeping, but it has nothing to do with his father. He does just fine in his father’s absence. In some ways, it’s nice to have the freedom to run the shop as he likes. The reason for his poor sleep is standing right before him.

“I’m fine,” Tokino replies, touched by the kindness, and recognizing it as such. “You, however, have rushed here in an awful hurry. Is something bothering you?”

“I’ve had another visit,” Konoe whispers, “Another devil has offered to help me.”

“A second one?” Tokino is surprised. “But you already have your own song, as well as the song from the devil of grief. Won’t that be enough to impress the prince?”

“I don’t have another outfit, nor a way to visit the second day. I’d like to see him a second time. Kaltz has only offered me the first night, Thursday. This devil would teach me another song and get me there Friday evening. It would ensure that I can see the prince—guarantee his attentions—for the second evening. And Tokino—I must see him.”

The urgency in the kitten’s voice pulls at Tokino’s heartstrings. “Perhaps there is something I can do? Doesn’t Bardo have a costume you can wear, perhaps left from the festivals? I will sneak out of the house and take you in our cart—my father does not have to know—”

“Tokino, you would be punished for such a thing! I could never ask you to betray your father’s trust for my sake!”

“But if you became Prince Rai’s Sanga, you could get us all the business we could handle, and I’m sure he would forgive me,” Tokino says boldly, reaching out to touch Konoe’s soft black ears. He has never dared touch the kitten’s ears. He has heard in the streets that they are soft as silk and tempting like a devil’s—and they look it. He wants to touch them for himself, and Konoe does not shy away for some strange reason. Does he not know any better?

To his surprise, the black kitten permits his gentle touch, even though he shivers a little in response, yet he does not pull away. He glances up at his friend shyly, his long dark eyelashes blinking and framing his confused honey-colored eyes. Perhaps he does not realize that this is a private touch? A touch reserved for those who are intimate with you? Is he expected to allow strangers to stroke him like this at the inn? Is that why it has become so popular? If that is the case, then he needs to get out of there, and Tokino will help him at any cost. However, does Tokino have the courage to ask him?

“Konoe, your ears are very soft,” Tokino murmurs, and he gently pushes his nose against Konoe’s shoulder, a small gesture of kindness and friendship. He allows himself to stroke his ears once again, and he feels them quiver slightly under his fingers, but the kitten still does not pull away. “What color was your fur originally, Konoe? Before the curse?”

“White,” Konoe answers, in a very soft, shy voice. “It was mostly white and the tips of my ears and tail were light brown. I miss the original color. I am still not used to this color. In truth, even now, I am often startled by my own tail. I see it in the corner of my eye and jump out of my skin, mistaking it for a-a snake.” He giggles just a little, and he peeps up at Tokino, terribly embarrassed, a shameful (and adorable) blush scattering over his cheeks.

An image pops into the ginger cat’s mind—Konoe in the bath, washing himself and being suddenly spooked by his own tail—as beautiful as it is—is both heartbreaking and terribly funny—because it is exactly as Tokino sees him. He is an innocent creature. Tokino tries hard not to smile but can’t help it. And then, he is unable to get the image out of his head.

“But you don’t really—” Tokino starts, and a small snort sneaks out of his nose, and he instantly covers his mouth, horrified that Konoe might think that Tokino is laughing at him.

But the kitten looks up at him with a sad smile on his face. “When I was hanging the sheets to dry yesterday—it was windy—and I was content and happy—and the sun wasn’t shining in that direction, so I knew it wasn’t a shadow,” he starts, as though trying to explain himself and giggles again. “It just moves a lot, I guess.” 

“You do have a rather expressive tail,” Tokino starts, trying to be serious, but he can’t repress a second snort and laughter escapes—the image of Konoe hanging laundry and jumping out of his skin in fear of a snake, only to realize it’s his own tail now a second vivid picture in his mind. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Tokino says immediately, but he can’t help it, and he laughs out loud.

Konoe laughs out loud as well, right along with him—and they laugh together—the entire thing is quite ridiculous. 

“I would do the same!” Tokino says. “You get used to yourself looking the same way, how you expect you will always be, and if you suddenly look different, of course, it would be startling!” 

Konoe’s laughter is beautiful, Tokino thinks—his laughter, his smile, the musical sound of it, the way his eyes light up and the freedom with which he laughs at his own behavior.

“It’s silly,” Konoe admits. “Often, I wonder if I am a cat at all.”

“You know, though—I like your fur this color,” Tokino says, stopping his laughter suddenly, and dropping the pitch of his voice. “Even if it’s cursed. It’s beautiful, Konoe. However, I don’t think others should freely be permitted to touch it. I even feel bad for taking the liberty to stroke your ears just now, but I’m afraid I may never again have the chance. For when your prince sees you, he would be stupid to let you escape again.” 

“Tokino,” Konoe is touched, but he doesn’t quite understand what his words mean. His face looks slightly confused.

“What did this second devil request for payment?” Tokino asks, quickly changing the subject.

“It was strange. He said he wants me to express my anger about my situation in an honest way—that is—why I’m not where I want to be right now—all I have to do is talk about it.”

“What? That is all?” Tokino asks.

“Weird, isn’t it?”

 “Why would you hesitate? I mean, you already have one devil involved. What is one more, if talking is all that is required?”

“Well, this devil looks much more like a devil than Kaltz, and he is much more frightening. He carries himself like a king. When I visited that place in my dream before, it felt like Kaltz was trying not to scare me. This devil—Razel—he didn’t care whether he frightened me or not. However, he wasn’t unkind, either, once he spoke to me.”

“I see,” Tokino says. “I wish you didn’t have any dealings with devils whatsoever.”

“Me, either, but I-I dreamed of Rai right afterward, and I think—no, I know—that I love him.” Konoe looks straight at Tokino, and his golden eyes framed those dark lashes pierce Tokino’s blue ones, piercing right through Tokino’s heart. “I have to try, and I have to do everything I can. Tokino—what if he finds someone else?”

“Konoe,” Tokino looks at his friend—and he sees the pain in the kitten's eyes, hears the pain in his voice—and he realizes he loves this black kitten before him. In fact—he loves him so much that he cannot bear to see him suffer. He will do everything in his power to make sure he is happy. Even—even if this means that he will choose someone else—if that what will make him happy! “Konoe, he won’t choose anyone else. I know it. If he hears you—if he sees you—he would give up his kingdom for you.”

“Ah—but I don’t want him to do that, you see,” Konoe says. “I don’t want him to have to choose. I don’t want to come between the kingdom and him. I want to be able to serve him and the kingdom on my own merits—" 

“And you will,” Tokino says, putting his hands on his friends shoulders. “You will. Listen. Do you have to decide today?” Tokino asks, keeping his hands from clawing at his own chest, not letting his own pain show.

“No,” Konoe says.

“Consider your options for a day or two. Maybe discuss it with Bardo, too?” 

“Perhaps,” Konoe says, noncommittal. He sighs softly, looking up at the sky. “I should probably be getting back. Dinner will start soon.”

“Don’t let them touch you,” Tokino says. “You don’t deserve to be harassed. Tell Bardo if they even touch you one time.” 

Konoe gives his ginger-haired friend a soft smile, before taking his leave.

The dinner comes and goes—it’s an exhausting, busy Thursday evening. Konoe cannot wait for his evening bath in the shed, and he runs into Kaltz on his way back from his bath, dressed only in his sleeping robe.

“Kitten, you did well at dinner tonight. You handle yourself with such grace even among such classless ruffians. Would you like me to interfere on your behalf?” Kaltz says. 

“Oh, thank you, but that isn’t necessary,” Konoe says, holding his robe to himself a little closer, casting his eyes down. Why would the devil say such a thing?

“The innkeeper said there is a shed I might use to bathe back here.” Kaltz looks at Konoe’s damp hair and fur.

“Oh, um, yes. Just behind the shed, follow the path. It’s quiet and private, with soap, towels, and supplies.” Konoe bows his head submissively. Should he ask Kaltz about Razel? He does not dare. And he is too tired to think about it.

Instead, he just goes inside and crawls into bed.

Bardo follows him shortly, coming after him with a brush, attacking his hair and his fur with it, combing it till it shines and till Konoe is purring and asleep over his book.

“Ah, I probably work you too hard,” Bardo whispers. He moves the kitten’s book aside and curls him up in the bed, climbing in next to him, keeping the smaller body warm, while he reads under the light of the lamp. The kitten sleeps soundly—purring softly in his sleep. Bardo can’t help but stroke him occasionally while he sleeps.  

Friday morning, Konoe wakes once again with the image of Rai in his mind, and after his morning stretch, he decides to wish for Razel. He simply has to do everything in his power to see his prince.

The day passes as usual, and just like what happened with Kaltz—only this time there is already a devil disguised as a cat sitting at the counter in the dining room, since it’s a busy weekend evening, when another mysterious guest arrives. This one doesn’t make a mysterious, quiet entrance, like Kaltz did, however. 

The door is thrown open roughly, causing all the guests to look up—and no one can take their eyes from the person standing at the door. Konoe’s jaw drops, and he is grateful that Razel has decided to disguise his horns as cat ears, but they are strangely oversized, giving him more the look of a wolf than a cat.

Also, his tail has way too much fur—and both his tail and his ears are the same color as his hair—bright red. He casually looks around the room, stopping when he rests his eyes on Konoe, and he walks right up to him despite the fact that Konoe’s hands are full of plates.

“Little one, I should like a room for several days—till Saturday morning next week—and also, I’d like a meal.” Razel is standing much too close for Konoe’s taste. “Do you have any availability?”

“We do, sir, um, if you would please have a seat, um,” Konoe stammers, and he whispers, “This is not at all subtle, sir.”

“Subtle is not my style,” the devil explains easily. “Where would you like me to sit?” He smiles easily at Konoe, making him even more uncomfortable. Some of the regular guests get a little jealous of this newcomer’s attention to their favorite mascot.

“Oy, Chibi—refill my ale!” 

“Konoe, I need more sake!”

“Let him do his damned job!” the devil snaps, sending a scathing look toward the two rowdy customers, his voice quiet but firm. And for some strange reason, the customers shut up immediately and back off from harassing Konoe for the remainder of the evening. In fact, they don’t even try to touch him—not even once—while this red-haired newcomer is in the room.

“Bardo—we have another overnight guest—staying till Saturday—and he wants dinner!” Konoe says over his shoulder into the kitchen on his way to the lobby to pick up the guestbook. He signs Razel in—and Razel signs his name in an elegant script.

“Don’t you think your tail and ears look more like a wolf than a cat?” Konoe whispers as he hands him his key.

Razel looks up, mortified. “Did I get it wrong? I’m not the best with disguises,” he admits, almost sheepishly. It’s a strange tone to hear from this devil, Konoe thinks. “What is wrong with it?”

“Well, your ears are too big,” Konoe says.

“They are no bigger than yours, proportionally,” Razel says, a little defensively. “I checked very carefully, as I used you as my model.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” Konoe looks up sharply.

“I mean, proportionally to my body, my ears are the same size as yours. That’s how I determined the size of my ears. Do you have exceptionally large ears for a cat?” Razel glances around the room. “Huh, I suppose you do. They look kind of... cute, compared to everyone else’s here. Like that tiger’s, there—his are proportionally small. Mine do not have the same effect since I am so much larger than you.”

Konoe isn’t sure if he should be offended or flattered.

“Why did you choose long fur?”

“Well, I have long hair, so I went with long fur,” Razel says. “But I suppose if black is a color that makes things looks smaller, red quite possibly does the opposite.” He smiles, and Konoe realizes his fangs show all the time, too, which isn’t quite right for cats, either.

“You can’t show your fangs in here!” Konoe hisses. 

“What? Why ever not?” Razel looks surprised again. "How do you eat without fangs?"

“We use our teeth. Fangs are only used in fighting. Showing them, bearing them—it’s a sign of aggression!” Konoe explains. He looks as Razel’s hands and sees claws. “Can you hide your claws? We don’t draw claws either unless we are afraid or fighting.”

“I see,” Razel hides his claws. “I’ll need a mirror for my fangs, I’m afraid.” He smiles with his lips closed. “Better?” But he isn’t all that interested in Konoe’s opinion since he notices Razel nodding his head slightly, as if in greeting.

He’s nodding to Kaltz in acknowledgment, Konoe thinks, and Kaltz returns the greeting, but Kaltz excuses himself from his place. Konoe had just cleared his plate after all.

“Kaltz, join me for a drink?” Razel asks. “The little one says I need some pointers for this world.”

“Ah,” Kaltz says. “Sure.” He moves to Razel’s table. “Konoe, Razel would enjoy the sake you served me earlier.” 

He is excusing me, Konoe realizes, and he moves away from the table quickly to prepare a plate for the red-haired devil and as well as the sake Kaltz requested.

“Who the hell is that—more like—what the hell is that? Is it a wolf?” Bardo asks Konoe, once he’s in the kitchen. “He looks terrifying. Was he frightening you?”

“Ah, no. He knows the other guest staying with us.” While it isn’t a lie, Konoe feels terrible for not letting Bardo in on the truth. He doesn't look at Bardo.

“He looks strange, doesn’t he?” Bardo says. “His ears are too big—”

“They really aren’t any bigger than mine,” Konoe says defensively. “Perhaps yours are just too small. He must just be a different breed."

“I guess you’re right. I’ve just never seen a cat with fur that bright before.” Bardo looks at the small cat. “Oy, you’re not…”

“What?” Konoe is about to bring the sake to their table, and he looks over his shoulder at Bardo. 

“Oh, nothing,” Bardo says, watching him go. The red-haired cat—that strange one—seems to watch Bardo's kitten very, very closely. He doesn’t touch him, however, because if he laid even a single finger on him, Bardo would come barging out into the dining room. He says a few things that make the kitten smile, however, and that—that bothers Bardo.

It couldn’t be, could it?

“Oy,” Bardo says to Konoe, once the kitten is back in the kitchen, preparing a plate.

“What is it?” Konoe replies.

“You’re not, um, interested in that red-haired cat, are you?” Bardo asks, and he turns around to face Konoe, to watch the kitten's expression when he asks. 

“What are you asking?” Konoe asks. “Are you asking if I ‘like’ him? If I’m attracted to him?” Konoe nearly drops the plate he’s been fixing. “Bardo! I already told you—I’m in love with the prince. I am not that flighty of a person!”

“Well—the season is just around the corner, and he’s too old for you,” Bardo says. “There’s something not right about him—for you, anyway. Now, that other guest, he might be better—or the merchant’s son, the ginger, I know he’s got it bad for you—he’s a much better age for you—or even me, with my experience, I’d be really gentle—” 

“Bardo! Please!” Konoe is completely flustered. Konoe does actually drop the plate he’s working on, but mysteriously is able to catch it in his other hand before it crashes to the floor.

“Nice reflexes, there, kitten,” Bardo teases.

Konoe huffs, rearranges the food on the plate, and does not speak to Bardo for the rest of the evening. He cleans up in the kitchen and leaves for his evening bath. The evening has gone a lot more smoothly—a lot fewer people grabbing him, especially for a Friday—even as busy as it was—so he is tired, but not as exhausted as he usually is.

Bardo apologizes for teasing him when he returns from the bath, brushing his fur and hair like he always does, and he grooms his ears, as usual.

When Konoe goes to sleep that night, he sleeps well and dreams of his prince.

Chapter Text

Saturday morning, with two devils and two cats staying as guests staying at the inn, Konoe has his work cut out for him, but he manages his time well. While he is upstairs in the hallway, between cleaning the guest rooms, Razel opens his door.

“Kitten, may I have a moment?” The devil of wrath’s deep voice calls to him. He has a melodious voice—it sounds as tempting as Kaltz's voice if Konoe is honest. He doesn’t think it would be wise to be alone in a room with this particular devil, but he doesn’t want to appear rude. Konoe has called him here, after all.

I’m hesitating too much! Konoe panics a little, thinking, I’ll enter his room but remain only in the doorway.

“What, do I frighten you?” Razel asks gently, aiming his clear blue eyes directly at Konoe’s gold ones. “Come inside, please.”

Ah—I can’t politely decline now, Konoe thinks desperately. I should be fine if I keep the door open...

“Close the door behind you,” Razel suggests immediately, making all of the kitten’s fur stand on end. “Oh—do I frighten you, little one? I just had something private to discuss. I won’t lay a finger on you. You called me here to ask for my help, after all.”

“Ah, no, of course,” Konoe lies, but his intention is to be polite and brave. “It’s just I have so many chores to finish this morning and don’t you wish to enjoy breakfast downstairs?”

“Don’t I?” Razel asks, approaching the kitten closely—but he does not actually touch him. His eyes are a clear blue—like the color of the sky, quite beautiful, actually—almost enchanting.

“Don’t you what?” Konoe is confused by his question. He must have missed something in this conversation, and the devil is now standing too close.

“Don’t I frighten you?”

The direct question takes the kitten off guard—being asked so directly—he doesn’t know how to answer. His fur currently bristles in fear, and he is indeed afraid of Razel—he is standing too close for Konoe’s comfort, and he doesn’t know what to expect from this devil.

“I just don’t wish to be rude.” Konoe drops his gaze in the manner expected of servants.

“It’s natural to fear the unknown, to fear the powerful,” Razel replies. 

“But aren’t you here to help me? I should not fear you if you are here on my behalf,” Konoe says, suddenly returning Razel’s gaze bravely. “You are here to fight for me, are you not?”

“Hmpf,” Razel looks down at the kitten again. Bold, for such a small creature, he thinks. “I suppose you are correct.” 

“It may be in your nature to be frightening, but I should not let that bother me,” the kitten continues. “You are here only because I called you. You could not be here otherwise.”

“That is correct,” Razel answers, a slightly confused and even more slightly impressed look on his face.

“What did you need?” the kitten asks.

“Ah, about my fangs. Is this better?” Razel smiles for Konoe—a natural smile—a beautiful smile—and no fangs show. “Does this look more like your kind?”

A small sound leaks out of the kitten—something Razel hasn’t heard in a very long time. It takes him a while to identify the sound at first, but soon he realizes it was a giggle.

“You wanted to me to check if you fixed your disguise appropriately? To check if you were properly covering your fangs?” Konoe sounds a little strange.

Razel is watching the black kitten, who, curiously, is covering his mouth.

“Why are you covering your mouth?” Razel asks. 

“N-no reason—I-I-I’m just surprised,” Konoe stammers and instantly turns away from the devil, hiding his face and heading toward the door.

“But you didn’t answer!” Razel is irritated quite suddenly. He does not understand the kitten’s reaction, and he reaches out for the kitten’s shoulder—but remembers he said he would not lay a finger on him. So instead, he moves quickly—faster than the kitten’s eyes can process, in fact—to block his escape, and stands in front of the door. “Should I change the size of my ears, too, do you think?”

Another strange sound leaks out of the kitten, and this time, Razel sees his face. Konoe is smiling. He does not show his fangs when he smiles, so Razel has done well with his disguise—that much he can tell. Also—the black kitten looks rather enchanting when he smiles like this, unguarded.

“N-no, that would be very strange to the other guests at this point,” Konoe says, his voice strained. “They are used to seeing you with your… w-wolf ears.” And another little giggle escapes.

“What is the matter with you, kitten?” Razel asks.

“I—n-nothing,” Konoe says, looking at the floor. “I-I just need to get on with my chores this morning. 

“Why are you making that noise?”

“I’m n-not—”

“Do not lie to me!” Razel speaks quite sharply, making the kitten flinch. Razel doesn’t mean to frighten him, though, so he softens his tone. “I detest lies. Speak the truth—speak your mind.” 

“I do not wish to be rude,” Konoe says, casting his eyes on the floor modestly.

Razel touches the kitten’s chin, breaking his word, tipping it up gently to make Konoe meet his gaze. Konoe ruffles up his fur—nearly doubling in size—in fear? In surprise? Razel does not know or care. He simply needs to see those pretty golden eyes.

“Little one, I care not for politeness or society’s rules or customs. I want to know what is in your heart. What is going through your mind and what is coming from your mouth are two entirely different things.”

The touch on Konoe’s chin is hot. This devil’s touch—his hands are hot and dry—but heat is almost enough to burn the kitten’s skin, and this frightens him. Plus—he was touched, despite the fact the Razel said he wouldn’t lay a finger on him—however, that thought burns in the back of the kitten’s mind at the moment. Right now, he is just confused and surprised, and the devil senses this. Furthermore, the kitten looks at the devil directly, despite his trepidation, and he does not resist.

He is submitting, the thought passes through Razel’s mind briefly. He is a serious temptation—this kitten before me. Why is he submitting? Why doesn’t he resist?

“Can you read my thoughts?” Konoe asks.

“To a certain degree, yes,” Razel explains. “Your feelings have to be laced with emotion for me to read them, and I could tell you were afraid. Yet you obeyed me when I asked you to come into my room. Even now—you do not resist, though you fear me.”

“Well, you’re here to help,” Konoe replies, and to Razel’s shock, a small smile appears on the kitten’s face. “You care enough to try to fix your disguise. Is this for my sake? I just thought it was funny. You haven’t spent much time among my kind, have you?” 

Is he amused? Razel is somewhat baffled. Is the kitten amused? Is he laughing at my disguise?

“Is there something funny about my disguise?” Razel asks.

“No,” the kitten replies. “Just the fact that you would care so much to fix how your fangs look impressed me. It—surprises me. Pleasantly.” Konoe looks directly into the devil’s face. 

Ginji was right. He is certainly an adorable creature. Perhaps if he were to make a single wrong step—or just the right one—and he might spend the rest of his life in the netherworld with me, Razel considers. Perhaps I should ask him, but not right now.

“Once your chores are finished, find me. I will teach you a new song,” Razel releases his small chin. He is such a delicate creature. Kaltz said he was able to learn how to manipulate water and ice in less than half an hour, so he must be the real deal. His purity of heart is rare. Tempting. It’s only a matter of time before that other one makes an appearance.

The kitten nods his head and departs, continuing with his work diligently.

Razel waits for a moment. What I am asking of him—it won’t corrupt him, will it? 

What if the other devil comes? Even if he demands what I think he will demand, purity of heart is not the same thing as purity of body. The child’s father was the perfect example—a living being who was pure in his heart but not necessarily of in his body. 

However, letting that other creature get to him fills Razel with a certain degree of distaste, a certain amount of disgust. Should he interfere? He is just a child, after all. He could warn him, perhaps. 

Or—perhaps he could save him if things don’t go well. That might be a better option—if he were to become... corrupted. He would still find the kitten perfect even if he were slightly corrupted. Thinking thoughts like these, Razel heads down to breakfast to join the other guests, waiting patiently for him to finish his chores. 

After his chores, Konoe asks if Razel might come outside to teach him the song, rather than in his room. Razel agrees and follows the kitten behind the inn. While Konoe has not told Bardo about the devils, he has mentioned that he will be practicing his song this afternoon, behind the inn. He has also mentioned he will have help. This makes him feel slightly safer, knowing that Bardo is aware of some of what is planned.

“Kitten, in the same way that Kaltz manipulates water, I manipulate fire,” Razel states.

His fur bristles, and Konoe is nervous. He tries to be brave, however. 

“F-fire? Will you show me?”

Razel holds out his hand, and a small ball of flame appears in his hands.

In an instant, Konoe shrinks from it. 

“Ah, you fear fire, don’t you? It was a natural instinct for your ancestors. However—fire can cleanse, purify, keep you warm and sheltered, and cook your meals for you, too.”

“It’s so destructive, though,” Konoe says, shuddering. For the first time, he doubts himself. He worries he may not be able to wield this power.

“Keep in mind—you will not be wielding it. As a Sanga, you will be arming your Touga with the power of fire.”

“I see,” Konoe tries to understand. 

He watches Razel play with the flame in his hand, making it grow very small, and then as large as a cat. He watches as Razel throws it—it leaves scorch marks across the ground or none at all, as it hurls it across the sky.

It’s a powerful force. Razel can quench the flame whenever he wishes. That part—quenching the flame—interests the kitten quite a lot.

This isn’t like water, however—he can’t simply put his hands in the flame and experience its nature—he will, of course, get burned if he does. Instead, he watches carefully—watches the flames move, almost like a living thing. He has a sense, a feeling, that the flames, like Razel, have a sense of anger inside of them, a sense of injustice.

“Are you ready now? I will teach you, share with you the essence of the fire I wield. Come.”

He takes his time approaching Konoe—even allows the kitten to approach him. Konoe seems to know how the knowledge will be communicated. Razel’s knowledge, however, is slightly more in depth, perhaps, than Kaltz’s, because Konoe could not experience fire himself, like he could water. Razel puts his lips to Konoe’s and breathes into his lungs—it’s very, very warm—and Konoe feels a burning heat. Then, he feels Razel’s tongue touch his lips—tracing them carefully—and his tongue is very hot, too. Konoe does his best to relax, but he is slightly uncomfortable with this touch. However, he does not pull away. He needs this knowledge. Only with this knowledge will he be able to see Rai again.

After Razel’s tongue traces Konoe’s lips, it slips into his mouth. Konoe startles slightly—he wasn’t expecting quite this level of intimacy, but he still does not pull away, nor does he resist. He drops his arms to his sides, letting them fall naturally. And Razel pulls the kitten in closer, one hand on his shoulder and the other at his nape, tilting his head for an even deeper kiss.

Yet Konoe closes his eyes and submits, the fur on his body standing on end—and he feels rage. He feels anger building in his chest, boiling over in his guts. He suddenly wants to push the devil away from him—more than anything, he wants to fling the larger creature away, because this is intrusive, this is not what he wants, not who he wants, and he is being taken advantage of—and Konoe is pissed! He has never felt this kind of rage before, and he is shaking with it, his small body trembling like it never has before.

The hands at his sides come up abruptly and push violently against the devil’s chest—shoving him away with a sudden, unexpected force.

The devil looks at the trembling kitten and smiles indulgently. He is pleased.

“You understand its nature,” Razel says. “That anger, that rage—that is the true nature of the element of fire.”

A sound like a bell rings inside the kitten’s mind—clearer than the moon of light—and Konoe understands. Still trembling with rage, the black kitten holds his hand before him, opens his mouth and sings. The song is more beautiful than anything Razel has ever heard—it’s the very nature of fire in musical form. Just like Kaltz and Ginji described, this kitten is the real deal. On his small hand, a small flame ignites.

Along with his continued song, Konoe makes the flame grow larger and larger, and he throws it across the yard, scorching the ground, like Razel did—effortlessly—and extinguishing it, equally effortlessly. He also ignites a small flame several feet away from where they are standing by singing and pointing—which Razel has not shown him how to do, and he shoots flames from the end of his sword—another trick Razel has not shown the kitten.

Razel stands watching his student and is more than impressed.

Once the kitten finishes his song, however, he collapses to his knees, exhausted. Before he hits the ground, Razel catches him in his arms. He is as light as a feather. Oh, how Razel desires this small, clever creature—above all else, Razel would like to take him back to the hidden realm with him. Why? Razel can't quite say, but he is enchanted by him and his beautiful, captivating voice.

“Rage may not be a familiar emotion for you, little one,” Razel says. “You must rest now. You did very well. I’m impressed. The trick with the remote fire—and the sword—those were Kaltz’s techniques, weren't they?"

“Mmm,” Konoe mumbles, but he is exhausted.

The devil carries him to the back door of the inn—only noticing now that the tiger has been watching their practice. 

“I will take over the care of this kitten and servant, sir. He belongs to me,” Bardo says sharply. “Who are you—and what exactly have you been doing to him?”

Razel keeps quiet, but he gives custody of the kitten over to the large, angry cat. 

It’s Konoe who speaks up on Razel's behalf.

“Bardo, Razel is a friend—he is a friend of Ginji’s—one who was sent to help me, both he and Kaltz, the blue-haired cat. They have taught me new songs.”

“Why were you kissing him like that? What was that?” Bardo is still addressing Razel and is particularly angry about witnessing that spectacle. 

“He didn’t kiss me,” the kitten explains. “He was sharing the nature of fire with me—”

“That was a kiss, if I’ve ever seen a kiss,” Bardo says, still addressing the devil. “He’s just a child!”

“For him, it’s the least intrusive way for me to share that piece of knowledge with him,” Razel explains. Looking at the tiger, he says, “There are other ways, but they are more intrusive, understand.”

“I see,” Bardo replies, still unsatisfied. “Why is he so exhausted?” 

“He will be fine once he rests. He is unfamiliar with experiencing anger and rage. He probably is much more familiar with grief, so he had no problems learning Kaltz’s song. He should be fine after a rest.”

Bardo is still unhappy and carries a sleepy Konoe to their room.

Razel watches him go. He was not aware that the tiger shared a room with the kitten. Interesting. He heads back to his own room.

Bardo carefully lays the exhausted black kitten on the bed, rubbing his ears, taking off his shoes, rubbing his feet.

“Ah—you feel so warm! Do you have a fever?”

“I’m fine, Bardo, don’t worry. It’s just from the fire. Did you see what I learned?”

“I did,” Bardo replies, but he doesn’t say anything else. This worries Konoe enough so he sits up, peering at Bardo. 

“I learned about water and ice, too,” Konoe says, and he opens his mouth to sing a soft, mournful melody over the water dish in their room. A beautiful flower, carved from of ice, floats above the surface of the water, as Bardo looks on in amazement. The tiger feels the sadness in the song and sees the tears in Konoe’s eyes as he sings.

At least he can’t hide his amazement, Konoe thinks. But he isn’t saying anything! Why not?

“What’s wrong? Do you think this is still not enough for the prince?” Konoe worries. “Will I still be asking too much of him to take on a cursed Sanga? Will I be asking him to choose between the kingdom and me?”

“Konoe,” Bardo says. “You need to rest. I’ve never even heard you sing before today. Your singing is beautiful, just magical. Just rest for now. Don’t worry about a thing, honey.” He strokes Konoe’s ears gently. When the kitten sings—he becomes even more enchanting than he already is. Rai was a fool for ever letting him out of his sight! Bardo wonders if he even deserves such a creature at this point.

The black kitten settles slowly, obviously still worried, but he is tired. He closes his eyes and sleeps restlessly. 

I should give him the evening off, Bardo thinks, It’s a busy Saturday, but he will just let Konoe wake on his own, naturally.

He tucks in the kitten soundly, closes the window to keep the noise down, and then shuts the door behind him and starts dinner. 

While Konoe rests, he has another strange dream, during which he wakes once again in that quiet, underwater world. He hopes he will meet Ginji this time—hopes with all his heart—he’d like to thank him, and also because he doesn’t know what he will do at this point if he meets another devil. 

Just like the other two times, he hears the thumping heartbeat in his ears and the quiet melody. Only this time, when he hears that quiet song—he wonders—is that his father’s song? It sounds like Shui’s music playing softly, and he feels goosebumps all over his body when he realizes this. Where is he? Is this a memory? His earliest memory, perhaps? Of before he was even born? The only memory he has of his mother?

And just like that, he is whisked away into the other space, the silent, empty space. This time, however, the air feels humid. Warm, but not hot, and definitely damp. Strange and oppressive. He is tense again. He is not expecting to see Ginji—this will most likely be another devil.

His tail is stiff and his ears are perked up, and he is clawing into the invisible floor, trying to keep himself grounded in this strange space, when a bright yellow flame pops up—behind him. He has turned his body around—remembering that Razel showed up behind him last time, and he does not wish to be surprised again.

He is surprised nevertheless, and his fur fluffs up when the large, silhouette of a devil descends from the flame. He sits up, however, and faces him with his chin up, as bravely as he can.

This creature has a puff of short white hair, and two short black horns on top of his head shaped like those of a bull. Of course, he has those same pointed, fleshy ears and a slim, hairless tail—and it whips behind him furiously. He is dressed in an outrageous outfit. It shows more skin than any outfit Konoe has seen before. He wears his coat wide open, displaying his muscled chest and sculpted stomach, and his skin is tan—a surprising contrast to his white hair. His torso is proudly on display—and he has an arrow-like tattoo on his stomach that lewdly points downward toward his crotch. His pants are made of black animal skin, and they look like chaps.

His entire outfit is trimmed with fur, leather, feathers—even his coat is trimmed with a feather collar—but expensively. Gaudy, overdone, and very sexual looking. He wears black gloves on his hands and carries a large axe at his waist—and it looks like he has a whip coiled at his hip as well. His stacked heels make him even taller, and he rivals Bardo in size and breadth. 

Most disturbing are his eyes. They are two different colors—one gray, one green—but that isn’t what is disturbing about them. What is disturbing is the way they rake mercilessly over Konoe’s form, while he licks his lips. It gives the kitten the chills and makes him fluff up his fur defensively.

“Ah, so what do we have here?” 

The kitten is shocked by his voice. It’s very deep—and it sounds almost like a purr. He speaks gently, softly to Konoe—almost… seductively. It sinks into the kitten’s ears pleasantly, in fact. Konoe can’t look away after hearing his voice. A shiver rushes through his body and this time—this shiver is not one of horror. It is something else. Is it desire?

That is what frightens the kitten.

“Who are you?” Konoe asks, trying to maintain a direct gaze with the creature before him—he is certainly another devil, but Konoe is finding himself terribly distracted by his own body’s shocking response.

“Who am I? Well, isn’t that a little rude when you are my visitor?” A hand reaches out to touch Konoe’s ears and a tiny spark of electricity rushes through them at the touch. But it shocks the kitten so much that he jumps in surprise and fluffs up all his fur at once, giving a small yelp in surprise.

“Ah, look at this! How adorable! A little fuzz ball! You’re so cute—and your fur is so soft—I could pet it, stroke it all day,” the devil’s low voice murmurs, echoing strangely in Konoe’s ears, and another hand reaches out to stroke his ears as well. Now the devil is stroking both of his ears with both gloved hands, and he reflexively flattens his ears against his head, trying to flick them away—but the touch is surprisingly gentle, surprisingly nice—and…

I can’t help it, the kitten thinks. He blinks slowly, as though entranced. 

Konoe starts to relax, and his ears, even though his fur is still bristled, also relax to their normal position on his head, giving the devil better access. Konoe even tilts his neck slightly, allowing the creature to stroke him a little more. He would never allow this kind of touch from anyone in the dining room, but this just feels nice.

“So beautiful,” murmurs the devil. “Are you Konoe? The black kitten Ginji told me about? Who is currently getting help from my colleagues, Razel and Kaltz?”

“Yes,” mumbles the kitten, keeping his eyes closed and stretching out his chin helplessly. He’s in heaven and hears himself starting to purr.

“You’re even purring! How utterly delightful,” the devil remarks. “I am Verg. I am the devil of pleasure, at your service. I’d like to help you, too. I can teach you a song as well, one that your prince will not be able to resist, and I will help you see him the third day, Saturday—unless, of course… you’d be interested in another offer?" 

“Another offer?” the kitten asks, his voice low and languid.

“Yes,” Verg answers. “It’s been years since I’ve had a pet. I adore cats. I would love my own—you could be mine. Come with me. I would treat you so well—I would dress you in silk and you would live in a world filled with nothing but pleasure—for eternity. Tell me, is this not to your liking?”

“Oh, ah,” Konoe is suddenly a little embarrassed, and he pulls his head away, and looks down shyly. 

Adorable, thinks Verg. Such an innocent creature—so pure—how long would he last with me?

“I just got carried away for a moment,” Konoe explains, still terribly embarrassed by his behavior. He feels ashamed for letting Verg touch him like that! Also, he has a strange feeling that he is forgetting something important, but when he looks at the devil, he cannot remember what.

“So, just as you called the other two, wish for me, and I shall appear. I shall teach you my song, and you will overwhelm the prince with power,” Verg grins.

Konoe smiles back shyly. What am I forgetting? He can still feel an echo of that mesmerizing touch, and he brings his own hand to his ears, licking his claws for a moment to right the fur.

“Oh, did I mess up your fur? Would you like me to put it right for you?” Verg asks, ever so gently. He is quite fascinated, watching Konoe groom his fur, right in front of him.

“Ah, no—please,” Konoe says.

“Don’t delay too long,” Verg says. “It may take some time to learn what I have to teach. Now, return to your world. You have dinner to serve, don’t you? Those eager guests in the dining room await this beautiful body of yours.”

What strange words he uses, thinks the kitten. What am I forgetting?

The devil of pleasure gently brushes Konoe’s eyes closed, and the kitten feels his large hands on his ears once again. In spite of himself, Konoe sighs loudly. He can’t help it—they just feel so nice—it’s like Verg knows exactly what will feel the best when he touches his ears. It’s relaxing and gentle—it reminds him of how Rai touched him long ago, but it’s a little different, too. It’s much more distracting somehow.

It makes Konoe lean into the touch and close his eyes. 

And then—Konoe feels something press lightly against his lips—it’s Verg’s mouth and tongue—not forcing a kiss, but only gently pressing against his. It surprises him, but not enough for him to open his eyes. 

“Call for me,” whispers the devil. Konoe is enchanted, and then wakes with a start, sitting up in bed, with his fingers on his mouth.

He hears a ruckus in the dining room. 

Has Bardo let him sleep through the beginning of dinner rush on Saturday night? It’s the busiest night of the week! Konoe jumps to his feet—fighting off his dizziness—he feels slightly disoriented—almost like he’s moved through space and time to get here, but that can’t be, since he was only dreaming.

He puts on his apron and rushes into the kitchen, apologizing profusely for oversleeping.

Bardo tells him not to worry, he had planned on letting him sleep the entire night if he needed it. While Konoe is grateful, he feels terribly guilty. Bardo cannot handle all these customers—so he gets to work right away.

Razel actually gives quite a few of the regular customers dirty looks when they touch Konoe or pull his tail, and he even stands up and barks at them when Konoe is pulled into one cat’s lap.

The evening goes much more smoothly than usual. Still, he has a nagging feeling he has forgotten something. And he can’t seem to forget the touch on his ears—Verg’s touch. It reminds him of being with Rai, and that makes his heart ache.

Chapter Text

Sunday morning, Konoe wakes a little later than usual, and Bardo has let him rest. He already is busy with breakfast. Thursday this week is the day he will finally be able to see Rai. He wakes up with the silver cat on his mind again and decided to wish for Verg to help him on Saturday. This will give him three days with the prince.

The day passes as expected—Razel and Kaltz show some interest in his daily activities, as usual, interacting with him from time to time, but keeping a polite distance, even despite Razel’s insistence that he is not interested in what is polite or culturally acceptable.  

Konoe feels like he should visit Tokino during his afternoon break, but he practices his new songs instead, ending up feeling angry, sad, and exhausted, and needing a nap before dinner. Sunday dinners have become surprisingly busy since Konoe has been working at the inn. Bardo watches his black kitten with some concern. He feels a certain amount of obsession with his behavior and worries.

The evening at dinner, Konoe watches for the new guest to appear, but Verg, the devil of pleasure, doesn’t appear as expected, much to his disappointment. The other devils notice that the kitten seems disappointed—watching his ears droop lower and lower as the evening progresses.

Perhaps the two songs will be enough, Konoe thinks. Perhaps I can convince Rai in two evenings. The kitten starts to wonder.

After cleaning up the evening dishes, the kitten goes to the bathhouse behind the shed for his evening ritual and is washing when he notices a presence outside the door of the shed. He has just washed his hair—there is still soap in it, in fact, about to drip in his eyes, but he senses someone outside the door—and he doesn’t recognize the person.

At first—he thinks it might be Bardo, but it doesn’t smell like him. Is it Razel? Peeping through the cracks in the door, Konoe doesn’t see any flash of that bright red fur. 

“I’m in here at the moment—but I will be finished in a few minutes. Sorry to waste your time, sir. I didn’t know anyone was waiting.” Konoe hates to make other guests wait.

“Don’t concern yourself with making me wait, little one,” comes a smooth, familiar voice—floating through the air, stroking Konoe’s ears like silk, ruffling through his soap-soaked fur and making it stand on end. The voice belongs to Verg—the devil of pleasure. He is here—now—right outside. He came after all! Konoe is filled with relief—but at the same time, he wonders, why is he here?

“Um, you are here? I didn’t think you were coming,” Konoe says. “The other two arrived in time for dinner. Are you staying here as a guest?”

“I am—but I have a lot to teach you, and I thought we’d get started, as our contract is already valid.”

That’s right—he did make a contract with this devil. And what was the price—oh—the price—Konoe realizes right at this moment what he had forgotten to ask, exactly what it was that had slipped his mind during his dream!

“Ah, I forgot to ask,” Konoe says, suddenly very hesitant. “What is the price I am to pay for your services?” He continues to rinse the soap from his hair while he talks to Verg, and is a little nervous. How could he have done such a thing? There must be a reason that Verg didn’t say anything! Has he been tricked?

“Oh—my price? It’s nothing much. I am the devil of pleasure, after all. Don’t worry about it. I’ll collect my payment from you Saturday evening. You won’t mind at all, I’m sure.” 

“But—I mean, I forgot to ask what exactly I will owe you. What do I owe you—what is the price of your song?”

“Little one,” the soft, sensual voice caresses his ears. “Why worry about it at this point? I mean, you’re stuck with me now. You can’t get out of this contract at this point since I'm already here, right? You owe me either way. So why not just go with the flow, learn what I have to teach, and then pay me what is due when it’s due? Believe me, for someone with your disposition, I think it would be much easier than worrying about it.”

Hearing Verg talking about it like that, Konoe is certainly worried.

“What exactly do you want from me? What exactly will you collect?” His breathing picks up suddenly, and he stops moving in the water. He feels he cannot even bathe. Also, he feels strangely exposed before Verg at the moment. He is, in fact, since Verg has appeared right when he is bathing! Why did he appear right now? Konoe does not like this.

“It seems you’ve stopped bathing. Do you require assistance? I could come in and help you. I am actually good at that kind of thing, you know—I'm actually an expert.”

“N-no!” Konoe looks up to make sure the door to the shed is locked, and it is.

He hears a light chuckle outside the door.

“Don’t worry so much. I’m the devil of pleasure. Take it from me—what you will learn from me and what I will collect—you will enjoy. I promise you. I’ll see your innkeeper about a room, little one. See me later tonight if you’d like to learn what I have to teach—or tomorrow. I find my lessons tend to stick better in the evenings, however.”

Konoe trembles with fear. What have I done?

He hears the devil departing, and he finishes his bath quickly. For sure, he will wait till morning for any lessons from him.

Konoe is ashamed to talk to Bardo about the new guest—but Bardo suspects that this guest, too, is here to help the small Sanga with his song. Konoe sleeps restlessly that night, and Monday morning arrives much too soon. 

After his morning chores, Konoe is hanging laundry behind the inn, and the devil of pleasure wanders around casually outside. He sneaks up behind the kitten—he can be very quiet when he wants to be—and wraps his arms around the kitten’s waist while he is reaching up to hang up a sheet on the line to dry. The kitten fluffs up immediately, hissing, but Verg simply lifts him up so he can reach the laundry line a little more easily.

“I’m only helping you, kitten,” Verg’s smooth voice caresses Konoe’s ears again. He does have a nice voice—and that reminds the kitten of when Verg stroked his ears so nicely in his dream. He relaxes almost immediately, despite his discomfort from that unexpected touch.

He does not like this devil, and he is afraid, but what can he do? He can’t very well get out of this contract.

“If you really want out of this contract, we always have the other option,” Verg suggests.

“What other option?” Konoe asks.

“Come with me,” he coaxes. “Back to my world. Be mine. Be my pet. I will give you eternal life, if you desire it, eternal youth. I will treat you to eternal pleasure.” 

“Um,” Konoe looks at Verg cautiously. “Thank you for the generous offer, but I love my prince. I must do all I can to win him over. I'm sorry, but I cannot take you up on that offer.” He does not even understand why he would receive such an offer from a devil he has only just met. Eternal life? That's a long time? Is he for real?

“So you know, my offer always stands, if you change your mind,” Verg says smoothly. “Are you finished now?”

“Yes,” Konoe says, a little hesitantly.

“Come,” Verg takes Konoe’s hand, and pulls him into the woods. “We need a little greenery around us for my power to work its best. My skill is tied to the earth. Ah—this is beautiful—so pleasing—so green—so wonderful. I haven't been here in such a long time. It's wonderful.”

Verg seems to really appreciate the forest, much to Konoe’s surprise, so he does not resist the devil. He probably should. After walking a while into the forest, Verg now stands a short distance from Konoe in a small grassy area in the forest not too far from the inn.

“As Kaltz can manipulate water, and Razel manipulates fire, so I manipulate electricity.”

“Electricity?” Konoe asks. He doesn’t quite know what that is. “Do you mean lightning?”

“Kind of—it is a current tied to the earth, bound to it. Here.”

He reaches out a hand to Konoe’s finger, touching him with a finger, and Konoe feels a slight buzzing sensation.

It’s a little shock, and Konoe pulls his hand away, making a small noise. It didn’t really hurt, but it felt strange.

“That isn’t all,” Verg says. “That is the beginning. For this to work, your opponent must be on the ground. If you were falling through the air or jumping, this wouldn’t work. I can also do this.”

Reaching his hand out to Konoe again, Verg grasps his tail—and the kitten thinks he ought to resist, but for some reason, he can’t seem to resist that voice—and a deeper shock rushes through his body—a sudden shock that makes all his fur stand up at once, and it is painful, and then, strangely, waves of pleasure follow that shock, one after the other, rushing through his body and pooling at his hips.

What kind of feeling is this? Konoe is surprised by the sensation—overwhelmed by it—and realizes he has responded vocally to the sensations. He is terribly embarrassed by the strange sighs and gasping sounds leaking from him—and he tries to stop them by covering his mouth, and he also backs as far away from the devil as he can get.

“This sensation—that power—that is not useful for fighting!” Konoe says accusingly, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh, but it is, you see. I can send waves stronger than that to the enemy, and they are quickly overwhelmed,” Verg says. “You can do the same. I didn’t want to send you any stronger ones—as they can be painful, too, you see. Unless... you like that kind of pain.”

The devil examines at Konoe’s face, and the kitten looks quite upset.

“You look displeased. Did it overwhelm you? Have you not experienced something like this before? I’m sorry. Come here, and I will make it better,” Verg says.

For some strange reason, Konoe cannot disobey his voice! He follows Verg’s instructions and comes closer to the devil.

Verg immediately puts his hands on Konoe’s fluffy, bristled ears and starts massaging them, just like he did in last night’s dream. 

“There, there, it’s all better now, isn’t it?” Verg asks, his voice calm and honeyed. Soon, one of Verg’s hands drops to the kitten’s tail, which is also bristled, and he strokes it as well—with the same, firm, massaging hand—and Konoe starts to purr loudly.

Then, a small shock rushes through the kitten’s body again—beginning at his tail—and his body stiffens for a moment against the devil—a strained sound coming out of his mouth. Then he relaxes against Verg's firm body, feeling those large massaging hands, ruffling his fur—his ears being stroked so kindly, his tail being stroked so firmly—and then, a strange pleasure courses through his body, and his heart starts to race and his pupils dilate a little, and he has to catch his breath. 

What is this?

“Now do you understand?” Verg asks. “Do you need more to understand the nature? Its essence? I’m trying to teach you the essence of my power. Listen for the song, listen for the melody.” 

Verg lowers his mouth to Konoe’s and kisses him—invading his mouth with his tongue, keeping one hand on the base of his tail and lowering the other hand from his ears to his nape. Konoe feels the desire within that electricity. Pleasure and desire—but it isn’t the desire to please, necessarily. It’s the desire to make the other person come undone, be helpless, be subjugated, perhaps. He isn’t sure he likes the feeling, and he pushes Verg away suddenly, looking at him accusingly.

“Do you understand?” Verg asks. 

The black kitten closes his eyes and listens carefully for another moment. Within a few minutes, a song is released from deep within his body. He doesn’t even have to open his mouth for this song to come out—but his body glows, and Verg can feel his own skin vibrating to the tune. 

This is it—he’s found it already! Verg thinks excitedly. He’s the one—I must take him back with me! 

Konoe releases a small electric shock when he touches Verg’s fingertip—and then a much larger one with the touch of his full hand. He even makes bolts of lightning shoot from the edge of Verg’s axe, which is still hanging from his waist—Verg does not appreciate that very much, although he rather enjoys the feeling of being shocked by Konoe. His shocks feel warm and welcoming—so tempting and delicious. He wonders if the kitten even knows what he is offering, and the thoughts overwhelm him with pleasure. 

Konoe doesn’t manage to sing for very long, however, before he finds himself on his knees in exhaustion, once again.

This time, however, he is in the middle of a glade in the forest with a devil—and not just any devil—this time he is with the devil of pleasure.

“What do I owe you for this?” Konoe asks, exhausted, as Verg is looking at him up close—stroking his ears indulgently. Verg caught him before he fell.

“As I've said, I’d rather we not discuss it. Why not simply come with me instead? Be mine. That prince—he doesn’t deserve you. Why did he leave you here, to begin with?”

“He didn’t leave me,” Konoe says, exasperated. “It was my stepfather who put me here.”

“Your stepfather? What are you, Cinderella?” Verg asks. “You are! You’re going to the ball—and that would make me your fairy godmother, wouldn’t it?” He has a good laugh now, but the kitten does not understand the reference and has no idea what he’s talking about.

“I’m very tired,” Konoe is a little crabby in his exhaustion. “Do you think you might take me back to the inn?”

“I could—for a price.”

“What price?” Konoe asks, suspicious now. “I still don’t know what I owe you for teaching me this song!”

“Ah—you don’t, and you worry too much. Why not just kiss me instead, kitten?”

What? A kiss? Konoe looks at Verg. He is very close, still stroking his ears.

“Come now, I know you like how I stroke your ears. You’ve basically already kissed me anyway. But this would be of your own accord.”

“Why?”

“Just… for the pleasure of it,” Verg says. “And because I’m out in the real world, in the forest—and there’s a beautiful young kitten to share it with me.”

He lowers his face to Konoe’s and waits for a moment, waits for Konoe to make the first move. The kitten flattens his ears back sharply, closes his eyes, and presses his closed mouth to Verg’s for just a moment, making a small puckering sound, pulling away instantly. Then he opens his eyes to watch Verg’s reaction. 

Was that enough? Was that enough to get him to help him back to the inn? Konoe wonders.

“You have gorgeous eyes,” Verg murmurs. “And your eyelashes are so long and lush—just like this fur—I cannot get enough of this fur. Gods!”

And then, Verg presses his lips against Konoe’s, pushing his defenseless body against the ground. His tongue enters Konoe’s mouth, searching out the kitten’s small, sharp fangs and all around in his mouth, and he begins to brush the back of his throat while stroking his ears with his hand—which makes Konoe purr and slightly curl up his body in response.

Konoe isn’t sure he likes this—he doesn’t like that Verg can make him react like this. But he doesn’t bite—he simply submits to the touch, to the kiss.

“You’re purring again.”

“Cats purr when they are in pain and when they are excessively tired,” Konoe says quietly.

“Aw, are you in pain?” Verg asks. “Do you need to rest? Why not rest here, with me, for a little while?”

“I did what you asked,” Konoe insists. “Please, won’t you take me back to the inn?” 

“I will, eventually,” Verg says. “I love to hear you pleading, by the way. It's so beautiful. Come now, rest here with me for just a little while.”

Verg gets himself comfortable, stretching out in the grass and cuddling the kitten’s exhausted body next to him. He positions Konoe so he is laid out flush against Verg’s body, facing him, and Verg has easy access to Konoe’s ears and his tail, which Verg continues stroking at his leisure.

This does not make it easy for Konoe to rest. 

“Um,” Konoe says. “I cannot rest if you pet me like this!” He starts to sound slightly desperate.

“Are you going to cry?” Verg asks, a slightly excited tone in his voice. “Go ahead if you’d like to. I don’t mind.”

Hearing these words angers the kitten quite a bit—he is quite frustrated. His tears—they are frustrated and angry—and he feels something building up within his small body. 

“Oy, you’re quite warm. Are you feeling sick? Do Sangas usually get fevers when they sing?” Verg asks, stroking Konoe's back gently.

Konoe starts a new song—this time, Razel’s song—and his entire body starts to burn with heat. He gets too hot for Verg to touch—in fact, hot enough so the devil has to push the kitten away from him to avoid getting burned.

“Ouch—ouch! You're burning me! What are you doing? What the fuck is this? What the hell!?”

This leaves Konoe alone in the grass, panting with effort—now exhausted from the song of wrath and the song of pleasure. And he is hot. He wonders—is there water around?

Konoe imagines the nature of water like Kaltz taught him—and sings once more. Verg hears the melody, and it’s so sad and mournful—and immediately, Verg recognizes it as the devil of grief’s song. A small piece of ice appears in the Sanga’s hand, which he pops in his mouth—exhausted.

“You sang just to get yourself some ice?” Verg asks, slightly impressed.

“You won’t help me!” the kitten cries. “I need rest! I'm hot, I'm tired. What else can I do?”

“You fucking burned me! Even after I taught you my song!” Verg yells at the kitten.

“You wouldn’t take your hands off me!” Konoe yells right back, to Verg's surprise. “I don’t deserve that!”

Now, Verg desires this kitten even more. He stands up for himself. I need him, he won't break right away. I need him with me.

“All right. You win. I will return you to the inn.”

Verg stands up and walks over to Konoe, who stares up at him.

“Are you going to burn me? I have to carry you, don’t I?”

“Not as long as you don’t do anything weird,” Konoe says.

 “Weird—define weird,” Verg says, smirking.

“Please!” Konoe begs.

He begs so beautifully, I just can’t stand it! Verg thinks. His eyes flash rather dangerously. I must have him for myself. Who is this prince anyway?

He leans down and very carefully scoops up the exhausted black kitten, draping him gently over his shoulder. He places one hand on the kitten’s small but perfectly shaped ass—it’s just so round and lovely—muscular but also quite soft, Verg determines. 

“Hey!” Konoe snaps. “Don’t do that!”

“I just don’t want you to fall off my shoulder,” Verg says silkily. “We’re walking, we’re walking.” But he strokes the kitten’s ass several more times just the same, thinking of exactly what kind of payment he will collect from him on Saturday night. He continues to stroke Konoe's tail which helps the kitten to stop his struggling. He loves to have his tail pet. Interesting. Perhaps it's not exactly a sexual thing, or it is, and he isn't aware that it is?

The kitten can’t really struggle, however. He has to mostly suffer through it. He is blushing beautifully, ashamed, and embarrassed. But worse, Bardo sees Verg as soon as he walks up to the door.

Of course, Bardo throws a fit when he sees Konoe in Verg's arms—and he gives Verg the third degree when he watches him stroke his butt like that, which Verg does do, even in front of Bardo. There is no way that is going to happen on his watch. 

He yells at Verg, taking the kitten away from him the minute he is close enough.

“He is a child! What else have you done to him?” Bardo yells. “I know he has been singing, but this is ridiculous.”

Bardo gets him away from the stranger—he doesn't know Verg from a hole in the wall—and that guy was no good. Not for his precious kitten. This kitten is special. He deserves much better than that. Much better who will obviously stroke him like that.

"Konoe—did that man touch you?" Bardo is concerned. He really wants to protect Konoe.

Konoe, however, really wants to sleep. He doesn't respond. "Bardo, he was teaching me a song. It was all right. I'm not the innocent your thing you make me out to be."

To these words, Bardo lays him down gently on the bed, petting his ears a little more roughly than usual, and says, “Listen. You are working so hard. I know you want to see Rai, but you have more than enough skill to impress him. If he isn’t impressed with what you’ve got now, he doesn’t deserve you. Do you understand me?”

The kitten looks at Bardo, not a word coming from his mouth, only his eyes shine with tears.

Desperation—despair. He will do anything for that cat. Bardo has seen that look before. He knows it.

"Don't do anything you will regret later. That's my advice. Are you in over your head now, honey? That guy looked ready to eat you alive. Do you need help? With me around, I will protect you. I've lived a lot longer than you have, you know."

The kitten sighs deeply. He's truly exhausted, and right now, he feels nothing but regret for bringing Verg into this world. That mad pursuit? The offer of becoming his? He must be crazy! Konoe doesn't even know what he owes him! He is desperate as hell, and yeah, he'd love to tell Bardo, but he can't bring himself to say anything.

“Just rest, sweetie,” Bardo says. The kitten almost flinches at Bardo's use of the term of endearment. “Just sleep. Don’t worry about serving dinner tonight. Just sleep. Sleep through until the morning, and sleep as late as you need to, all right? Sweetheart, I’m working you too hard, and you are working too hard.”

A few tears slip down his face.

However, after Bardo comes over to tuck him into bed, he notices a strange scent on Konoe's ears. It is not his own scent. It must be the scent of whoever that bastard was who was carrying him.

"Sweetie," Bardo climbs in behind Konoe, taking him in his arms, gently beginning to groom his ears, carefully with his tongue. He takes care to speak low, not to frighten Konoe, not to become angry. "Honey, did this guest—"

"Verg, his name is Verg," Konoe mumbles.

"Did he groom you?" Bardo asks.

"No," Konoe responds.

Bardo is surprised. The kitten has never lied to him before. But this is a lie. A downright lie. It's obvious. Before losing his shit, Bardo figures he should clarify. 

"Did Verg stroke your ears in any way?"

"Oh, yes," Konoe almost moans. "He stroked my ears with his hands and fingers in such a wonderful, hypnotizing way that I've never before felt. It felt so good." Then suddenly—"Should I not have allowed him to touch me like that? Was that wrong?"

"Not at all," Bardo says. "As long as he did not hurt you and if the touch was not unwelcome or you did not dislike it, then it was just fine."

"So, it was okay that he stroked my tail as well?"

Bardo swallows thickly before he answers. He's pissed! But he swallows his anger and says, "Did you welcome the touch? Did you like it?"

"I did, but—"

"What is it?"

"The prince told me once that there are some places I should save for lovers. I wonder if the tail is one? Just from how it felt when he was touching me."

What an innocent little thing! Bardo can hardly help himself. "What did the prince say?"

"He said I should be ready, I should be in heat, and I should want to give myself over to the person touching me, I should trust him completely. It should not be casual or lukewarm, not just because they are handy. Also, the person should ask me if they have my consent—if they really respect me."

"Prince Rai really told you all of that?" Bardo marvels. He must have been sorely tempted by this kitten, too. "Tell me, Konoe, did you sing for the prince?"

"I did."

"Did he tell you these things before or after these you sang?"

"After, I believe. He urged these words on me. Told me they were of dire importance."

Bardo thinks about this. That brat actually retained some of the lessons he had learned from Bardo. Learning to survive was the most important one--but this one--this one was not so important, to Bardo, at least. Why had it made such an impression on Rai? He didn't know, but he was thankful.

"You should sleep now, little one. We can talk more tomorrow. I know you are excited. Just sleep soundly." Bardo tucks in the kitten, giving him a few more licks on his ears,  tucking him in soundly. "Good night."

He feels guilty, but the black kitten goes right to sleep—and soundly.

Chapter Text

Konoe has another dream—he returns to that underwater, peaceful, vulnerable place he visited just before meeting the other devils. This time, however, when Konoe wakes, and he hears the thumping in his ears, he pays careful attention to the music. It is his father’s song—he can definitely recognize his father playing. And he rests listening to it, hoping to stay here a little longer and enjoy it.

But too soon, his body is jolted from this place. He is torn violently from that watery world, and he ends up on the floor, on all fours—in this silent space between worlds. Is this the hidden realm? Konoe briefly wonders if it’s possible to get stuck here. It sends a shiver down his spine.

He already regrets bringing Verg into the world without knowing the cost of learning his song. Konoe blushes when he thinks how he felt after Verg shocked him several times. It was not what he wanted to feel—at least not with that cat/devil/person. But after experiencing those feelings, Konoe cannot get thoughts of Rai out of his head. He imagines kissing him, he imagines what it would feel like if Rai touched him, and also how it might feel to run his fingers through the soft fur on his tail—it is so beautiful and fluffy. He wonders if it would feel good to Rai. Could he make him feel good like that?

And then, Konoe realizes, I can’t be thinking of that right now. I’m… here. I can’t be distracted again. I have to refuse this next devil’s help. 

Suddenly, springing up in the corner of his vision is a green flame, and a black silhouette appears, walking down the stairs toward him. This person, however, looks familiar. Stunned, he recognizes the nine-tailed, fluffy silhouette in an instant, which comes into clearer and clearer focus as he approaches.

“Ginji!” Konoe can hardly believe it. But his method of travel—why a green flame?—and the ominous feeling in the room—those are distracting the kitten. 

“It is I,” Ginji answers, and his voice sounds different. Light, cheerful and airy. Different from how it was in the past. Konoe can’t say exactly what has changed, though—it’s just different.

“Thank you for sending your help,” Konoe says eagerly. “I have three fairy godparents helping me now!”

“Oh, ho, three? And have they taught you well?” Ginji asks, kneeling by Konoe. 

“Yes, I have learned three new songs. However—I have one evening left—I want to see the prince on all four evenings.”

“Do you? Perhaps I can help you that final night.” 

Konoe is surprised. “You? You said you couldn’t you couldn’t help me with this kind of thing.”

“Well, it’s possible I may have learned something new,” Ginji answers.

“New?” Konoe asks.

“Well, yes. I couldn’t very well have three people helping you and not offer you anything myself.”

“Wow! I’m so glad,” the kitten is relieved. 

“It’s a song, a joyful song,” Ginji says, and there’s a slight smile playing on his lips. He reaches out his hands to touch the kitten’s ears. 

Cold! Ginji is so cold, the kitten reflexively flicks his ears down when those hands brush against him. I don’t remember his touch being so cold. Were they this cold before? Did he even touch me before?

“What’s the matter, Konoe?” Ginji asks.

“You feel so cold.” 

“Ah, do I? It’s from being in the hidden realm for this long. I tend to warm up when I’m in your world.”

“For your help—do I just wish for you like I did for the others?”

“Actually—since the song I am teaching you is borrowed, you’ll have to wish for the name of the song’s owner. Wish for Froud, and I will appear before you. We will take you to your beloved prince on the final night of the ball, Konoe. I promise you.”

“Is there a price I will have to pay?”

“For this song, you will owe me nothing.” Ginji smiles generously.

Konoe takes a deep breath. He reaches up and hugs the fox's neck. His body feels cold, but his tails are so nice and fluffy—even at this cool temperature, they curl slightly around the kitten’s body.

“Thank you,” Konoe whispers. 

“It is my pleasure,” the fox replies. “Wish for me tomorrow, then, kitten. Now sleep.”

He sweeps Konoe’s eyes closed, and Konoe takes a deep breath—inhaling Ginji’s scent—in this realm, the fox’s scent smells a little different—not like a fox. Is that because he is in the hidden realm now?

Konoe feels a soft touch on his ears, and a brush of lips against his own, which makes goosebumps travel across his skin—all in a surprise rush of sensation.

And he sleeps. He does not wake like he has the past few nights but falls into a dreamless sleep. 

It’s Tuesday morning when he wakes. He has slept through an entire dinner at Bardo’s inn, and Bardo is up making breakfast.

Ginji! thinks the kitten with pleasure. He’s excited to have met him again. I wish for your help, Ginji. I wish for Froud, for the song, and for your help, Ginji.

And then he gets on with his day. 

Only two more days till the ball, and that afternoon, instead of practicing his songs, Konoe ducks out of the inn to visit his friend Tokino.

“I’ve learned three songs, and have one more to learn—so I will be able to attend all four nights!”

The black kitten is very excited, his tail perked up and swaying happily back and forth.

“Have you?” Tokino asks, but he does not invite Konoe inside, instead minding the store from the street. “You showed me the power of water and ice. What else have you learned?”

“Um, to harness the power of ice and the power of electricity,” Konoe explains, watching his friend from the corner of his eye. Is Tokino acting a little strangely today?

“Fire? You? Aren’t you afraid of fire?” Tokino looks at Konoe—while his tone isn’t mean or cruel, his words strike to the core of Konoe’s being, and he is a little taken aback. 

“Well,” Konoe says, and he lowers his eyes. “I-I am, but I learned its true nature, and being more familiar with it seems to make it slightly less frightening.” He speaks shyly and modestly, looking at his feet.

Tokino feels terrible for speaking to his friend this way, and it hurts him to see Konoe like this.

“You know, if the prince doesn’t recognize you for what you are when he hears you sing your own song, I don’t think he’s worth your time and effort. You’re taking a big risk with those devils. What do you owe for the song you learned about electricity?” Tokino asks, trying to lighten the conversation.

“I—I don’t really know,” Konoe says, his voice even softer.

At this, Tokino whips his head around and grabs the smaller kitten by the arm, hard. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Are you going to tell me you called a devil to this world, made a contract with him, without knowing the price you had to pay?!”

“Well,” Konoe cannot look up at his friend, looking everywhere except Tokino’s eyes. “I—I just got distracted—he distracted me—and I forgot to ask.”

“Distracted you how? What did he do to you? What exactly did he do to you?”

“Well, nothing really. He just rubbed my ears a little bit.”

“He—he what?” Tokino is flabbergasted. He is still holding his friend by the arm rather hard—probably hard enough to leave bruises, but he notices Konoe isn’t resisting. What is wrong with him? Why doesn’t he try to pull away? It’s almost as though the kitten thinks he deserves this harsh treatment! Does he? What would make him think this way? After a few moments, Tokino opens his mouth.

“I’m sure you know this, Konoe, but you could owe that devil your soul, or your life, in exchange for him teaching you that song. He could take something terrible from you—hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine! Don’t you realize that?”

Unbeknownst to Tokino, the black kitten does know this, and he can, in fact, imagine, a variety of ways in which he could be badly hurt by Verg, and the fact that Verg still won’t tell him exactly what he owes is terribly disturbing and stressful.

“I do know that, but it’s too late. The contract was established once I called him here!” Tears are filling the kitten’s eyes—and that is a sight Tokino swore he would never be the cause of. “I’ve begged him to just tell me what it is I owe, but he refuses to even tell me, saying something about me being an overly worried type of person. That, of course, makes me worry even more!” One of the tears spills over and down his cheek.

“Don’t cry, Konoe,” Tokino says, finally releasing his arm. He shouldn’t have grabbed him, and certainly not that hard, and instead, he pulls him close. The kitten, to his surprise, bursts into quiet sobs—right in the middle of Tokino’s father's stall. I should have invited him inside. I had no idea how much he was suffering! Instead, Tokino simply smoothes his hands over the kitten's ears, his shoulders, his back, letting him cry as much as he needs to. The kitten feels like a bundle of stress in his arms.

“But,” Konoe says between a hitched breath, “Ginji is returning tonight, the fox I told you about. He has learned a song for me as well, as says I owe him nothing for him to teach me.”

“He said that?” Tokino is immediately suspicious. “But Konoe—that isn’t how the spirit realm works! Everything has a price!” 

“Ginji is my friend. I will tell him what happened with Verg, and I am sure he will have some advice for me.”

“Tell me which guest is Verg. I will talk to him. Perhaps I can pay him,” Tokino suggests. “I have some savings, and I will at least see if I have something I can trade.” 

Konoe stares up at his friend, his eyes shining with tears.

“Why? Why would you do that for me?”

Of course, Tokino can’t tell him why. Because I love you. Because if something happened to you, and I didn’t do everything I could to prevent it, I would regret it forever.

“Because you are my precious friend, Konoe.” That’s the answer Tokino goes with, in the end. He hands Konoe a small handkerchief to wipe his tears.

“Stay away from him, Tokino. I got myself into this mess, and I’ll get myself out of it. I’m sure I’ll be all right,” Konoe says bravely. 

His words do not discourage Tokino. But the kitten takes his leave, hurrying back for the dinner rush.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Konoe says. “Sorry I’m late—thanks for letting me sleep. I got sidetracked at Tokino’s.”

“No problem, kiddo. I just hope you’re feeling better. You seemed pretty tired and stressed lately,” Bardo replies.

Dinner goes well, and Konoe is watching the door for Ginji’s arrival, and several new guests arrive, but the fox isn’t one of them. Tokino stops by during dinner to drop off a few supplies, waves cheerfully to Konoe, speaks quietly to Bardo for a few moments, and then leaves.

One of the new guests, a rather strange cat dressed in black leather with oddly green hair (unusual, but not unheard of) and lime green eyes, puts his hand on Konoe’s hand when he comes to take his dishes.

“Kitten, do you have a room to rent? I’d like to spend the night here.” His voice is weirdly familiar—it makes Konoe look directly at him for a moment. He sounds like Ginji, but that is not Ginji. And his hands are oddly cold.

“Um, yes, sir, we do. I believe we have one opening,” Konoe answers. “Let me get the guest book.”

When he returns, the green-haired cat languidly looks at him, a smile playing about his face and he says, “I need a room till Monday morning. Will that be possible?”

“Ah, yes. Are you here for the prince’s event?” Konoe asks politely, holding the book out for the guest to sign. He watches as the cat signs his name.

“Not exactly. Only for the last evening, I think.” The green eyes peer curiously at Konoe. Konoe hands the guest his key. 

“Your room is at the top of the stairs, the first door on the right. The innkeeper serves breakfast at nine—ah!” Konoe nearly drops the book when he sees the guest’s name.

Froud.

What is this?

“Who are you?” Konoe asks.

“My name is Froud, Konoe. And I am here to help you. I have a song for you to learn. Why don’t you see me after dinner? You don’t have much time to learn what I have to teach, after all, and it looks like you have some questions. You know where to find me. The dinner was delightful.” 

Konoe watches in shock as the green-haired cat wanders out of the dining room, heading up to his room.

The kitten nearly jumps out of his skin when a warm hand rests on his shoulder. 

“Ah!” Konoe yelps. “I’m sorry, sir. I did not expect you there.” He lowers his eyes immediately when bright red hair comes into view.

“You invited him, did you?” Razel asks.

“He is not the person I was expecting,” Konoe confesses. 

“Isn’t he?” Verg asks. “Did he disguise himself as someone else—someone you trusted, perhaps as the fox?”

“He has been known to do that,” Kaltz answers.

That would have been ideal to know about in advance. Couldn't they have said something to me? However—he said there was no cost to learning this new song of his. The kitten is worried, but not as concerned as he otherwise would be. He is much more concerned about Verg, and that unnamed price.

The rest of the evening goes by without incident, and after his evening bath, instead of heading to bed, Konoe makes a trip to Froud’s room.  There’s still a lamp burning behind the door, so he knocks lightly. 

“Ah, nekochan, it’s you,” Froud answers. “I’m surprised you came.”

“Well, I don’t have much time. I have an early day tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure Ginji was all right.”

“I have no idea,” the green-haired cat answers, his pupils narrowing slightly. “I have not harmed him if that’s what you’re asking. What reason would I have? He led me to you, after all.”

“Why did you not introduce yourself properly, as who you were? Why did you trick me?”

“Well, when you appeared in the hidden realm, it seemed you really wanted to see that fox. I thought that was what you wanted the most—I thought that would make you the happiest. I am the devil of joy, after all. I want to make you happy.” 

“The devil of joy?” Konoe is confused. Is there such a thing?

“Indeed,” Froud smiles. “When will we be begin training? We need a wide open space for my power to work its best.”

“I’ll find you tomorrow after I finish my morning chores, usually early afternoon.”

“I see. Well, sweet dreams, nekochan. I cannot wait to teach you my joy.” His hand reaches out and brushes Konoe’s cheek—so cold—ice cold—like death. Very unlike what Konoe thinks of when he thinks of joy.

A little shiver rushes through across his shoulders at the touch, making all his fur stand on end, but the kitten turns on his heel and rushes back downstairs to his room. He takes a deep breath before entering.

“Oy, where were you just now?” Bardo asks, lightly. 

“Oh—a guest asked for me,” Konoe replies. That wasn’t exactly a lie, but the ease and speed at which the line fell from the kitten’s mouth are a bit shocking, to Konoe at least.

He lowers his ears in shame, and he crawls into bed.

Bardo still attacks him with the brush just the same. Konoe purrs at the familiar comfort of the brush and drifts off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Wednesday morning, there are four devils disguised as cats staying at the inn. Konoe watches them eat breakfast—Verg seems abnormally interested in Kaltz, following around, sitting at his table, trying to associate with him and solicit his attention. However, Kaltz seems extremely disinterested or almost downright hostile to Verg, rejecting him and or simply ignoring him as much as possible. Konoe thinks it’s a little odd.

The first day of the prince’s event starts tomorrow, so if Konoe is going to learn Froud’s song, he’d better do it today. While he doesn’t owe him anything for this, Konoe is quite concerned for bringing such a devil here—making a contract with him and letting him wander around in the apparent realm like this. He wished for him, after all. So, after his chores, Konoe meets Froud in his room.

“Are you ready, Nekochan? Do you know of a place, a nice open field, where we can practice?” Froud asks.

Konoe leads the devil to the place where Verg taught him the power of electricity, the glade in the woods behind the inn. 

“Perfect!” Froud is excited. “I will show you how to teach you the power of the wind. I think your Touga will find it useful.”

Froud demonstrates an incredible speed—the kitten hardly sees him move, in fact. It would indeed be an amazing power to grant to his prince!

Also, Froud shows him he can imbue a weapon with the power of wind and move it faster. Konoe imagines this also would be useful in battle.

But then, it occurs to him—why isn’t there a cost to learn this song? He asks Froud about it.

“I've already told you, Nekochan,” Froud assures him, his voice almost purring, “you don’t owe me a thing. It’s a pleasure to teach you.” 

The way this devil cat observes him—like he might consume him from tail to tip—makes his fur stand on end.

“Aww, look at you, all cute and fluffy like that! I don't frighten you, do I? Don’t you want to learn this song? We can always make other arrangements if you've changed your mind, precious kitty.” 

“What other arrangements?” Konoe is suspicious now.

“Oh, we can go to the castle, call out to the white kitty, and both you and the white kitty can come with me to my world to stay with me.”

“What?”

“Yes, I will make a home for you in my world—a home for you both and for me—where we can be happy together—filled with joy—my joy,” and when Froud says joy, his green eyes light up with something evil that makes the kitten's fur bristle. Froud smiles at his reaction. “Oh, you don’t want to be with your Shiro Nekochan until death do you part?”

“It isn’t that,” Konoe replies. He fears this devil, even more than Verg or Razel—even though he is smaller in stature. There is something truly creepy about him. Joy? What does he mean by joy? Konoe doesn’t understand. But he doesn’t want to be rude or make this devil angry—and he needs to learn that song—it would truly be useful. “The prince has a kingdom to rule—he was born to rule, wasn’t he? I can’t very well speak on his behalf or take him away from his duties.”

“I see,” Froud replies. “Aren’t you a surprisingly responsible little kitten, then? So adorable. And you smell so good.”

Konoe moves a little further away from Froud. He is truly fearful now. He was afraid of Verg, too, but Froud seems much more sinister.

“Please, won’t you teach me your song?”

“I will, but as you know—from the other devils, I’m sure—I will need to share the nature of my power with you. Remember, don’t you, little kitty? The essence of the power of the wind? I can’t do that if you shy away from me.” Froud smiles. “Come a little closer.”

Konoe hesitates. Is he sure he needs to learn this song?

“Think of the power you will be offering to the white kitty—when you see him on the last day of the ball—his actual birthday. He will be delighted with your gift. You couldn’t offer him anything better. He wants nothing more than power, kitten. He will not be able to say no to a power like this one.”

That may be true, thinks Konoe, but I really don’t want this devil to touch me.

“Come closer.”

“You won’t hurt me?” The kitten’s fur still bristles nervously.

“Kitten, I only mean to show you the nature of the power of wind, don’t I? Did it cause you pain when Razel or Verg or Kaltz showed you the nature of their powers? And mine—it is filled with joy!”

Froud is patient if nothing else, and he stays right where he is, waiting for the kitten to make up his mind.

Eventually, curiosity and need (and the desire to please Rai, frankly) overcome the kitten, and Froud is able to wait out Konoe’s hesitance. Konoe finally approaches the devil, and Froud carefully puts his arms around his smaller body, holding him by the shoulders.

However, the moment Konoe feels Froud’s fingers touching his shoulders, he is pulled close—his face is pulled in close, which the kitten expects, as this is what the other devils did as well. Froud does something slightly different. His claws draw fully, digging into the kitten’s shoulders, causing him a sudden, sharp pain. It is an ice-cold sensation, which feels as if a venom is leaking from the tips of Froud’s claws into Konoe’s body, paralyzing him and freezing him in place. 

The kitten shrieks in pain and shock, his eyes wide open, staring at the devil in front of him.

“My joy—the essence of the power of wind—do you feel it?” Froud asks, almost lovingly.

At first, Konoe is unable to respond, and frankly, he has no idea what Froud is talking about. But his mouth works, so he cries out desperately, “Please, you’re hurting me! Stop!”

“Yes,” Froud almost purrs, “you are beginning to understand. Now pay attention.” And he lowers his mouth to Konoe's.

An ice-cold breath enters the kitten’s lungs—it feels like death if death has a feeling—and Konoe’s ears flatten against his head. He squeezes his eyes closed as his body is surrounded by a strong, cold wind. It’s a deliberate and cold—overpowering, strong—and the exact opposite of what Konoe would expect to experience from the tender warmth and gentleness of new life. It’s terrifying but at the same time, it fills him with a mysterious elation.

His body starts to tingle, his skin is covered with goosebumps, and despite the pain in his shoulders and the paralysis he is experiencing, he realizes what Froud is talking about—it is the will to survive—the will to live—that feeling of balancing on the edge between life and death. Some, perhaps, might call this feeling bloodlust, which Konoe has not yet experienced since he is as yet inexperienced in battle, but he imagines one must feel like this when one is fighting for one’s life.

That is the joy Froud is talking about.

“I understand!” Konoe cries. He hears the melody in the back of his mind—but Froud has no plans to release him. “Please—let me go! You’re hurting me!”

“Nekochan, if you do indeed understand, sing your song, and fight your way out yourself,” Froud whispers into his ears, nipping his soft black ear.

Konoe starts to panic and tries to struggle—which does nothing since he can’t really move and it doesn't help him sing. It only amuses Froud. So the kitten pulls himself together—truly afraid of this devil now—and sings with all his might, a song louder and bolder than he has yet managed—filled with bloodlust and this “joy” of Froud’s.

This is not what I understand as joy, thinks the kitten, but I can understand wind and his power this way.

He sings and manages to not only throw Froud away from him once—but three times as he returns to attack him again. He can move away quickly, too, once Froud’s claws have detached from his shoulders. Konoe realizes that he feels something flowing inside him when he uses this “wind song”: there is a certain pleasure that running rampant through his system, through his entire body, when he sings this song. It makes his fur fluff up and his pupils narrow into slits, and it makes his body tingle and tremble with delight. It frightens him, too—does he enjoy hurting others? Is that what this power is about? 

The kitten is horrified. He hates this feeling—more than any of the other powers he has learned—most of all.

After Froud’s fourth attack—Konoe runs out of energy. He drops to the ground, powerless, unable to sing, unable to move.

In the glade in the forest, he finds himself terrifyingly alone with this devil.

“Oya, Nekochan—it seems you picked up the nature of my power quite well,” Froud is approaching him again from the opposite side of the glade now, and Konoe is lying on his back in the grass, groaning in pain. His shoulders hurt from where he was clawed earlier, and he is exhausted. More importantly, he sees Froud approaching him, and his body starts to shiver. He is alarmed.

“Please—no more!” he cries out.

“Is this all you have for me?” Froud is hovering over him, taking the kitten in his arms almost tenderly, brushing his ears and hair. “It’s a new power, I know—you must be exhausted from using it. And you—so young and innocent, unfamiliar with it—you sing so beautifully. I got shivers from hearing the nature of my power from these plush lips of yours. I’d heard you were a Sanga, but I didn’t believe it.” 

Froud lowers his face to Konoe’s, kissing him—and Konoe tries to turn away.

“Stop—stop it—mmm!” He protests, squirming.

“You aren’t in any shape to be protesting, now, are you, little one?” Froud whispers, his green eyes sparkling with glee, continuing to stroke his ears. “I cannot wait to see this prince of yours. I already know him, in fact. I’ve been waiting for a long time to see him again.”

“What? You know Rai? How?” Konoe is truly frightened now—has he accidentally involved Rai in something sinister? 

“You’re trembling, kitten—shaking like a leaf in my arms,” Froud says. “And this scent of yours—it’s simply delicious. However, it’s too early for me to help myself, I suppose.”

Konoe blinks at the devil and a horrible memory rushes through his head—Papa Leaks touching him—examining him—in that invasive way.

Froud’s eyes light up suddenly, making Konoe flinch. He’d forgotten—this devil may be able to read his thoughts, and he hasn’t been careful about guarding his thoughts.

“What kind of memory was that?” Froud asks curiously. “It seems like a rather lovely one. It seems you have some rather wonderful memories surrounding this Papa Leaks character, don’t you, Nekochan?” Froud moves his mouth to the kitten’s ear, while Konoe tries to flinch away from the unwanted touch. “Perhaps I could help you return to the inn in exchange for remembering a few incidents for me... in detail, hmm?”

“No!” But even as he says he won’t, the memories seem to float up in his head, unbidden, unwanted—particularly, the very first time he was beaten.

“Yes, oh yes—that first time—it was the first time you’d ever been handled with violence, wasn’t it? You trusted him, didn’t you, your stepfather?” Froud’s cheery voice whispers, directly into his ear. It’s almost as if his voice is pulling up the vivid details from his memory. Froud brushes his ear with his lips, and Konoe remembers being dragged by that ear into the dining room and flicks it down by reflex.

He can see the image like a movie: Konoe obeying instantly when told to brace himself at the table, seeing the yardstick in his stepfather’s hand, the realization that he is about to be beaten even before the stick comes down, the fear rushing through him, his voice pleading desperately—to Papa Leaks, to Firi, begging for them to listen to him, to hear his words, to hear him out, to listen to the truth—then—

“Then what? Do you remember the pain of being beaten? Or is it a little fuzzy? That happens to your kind, I’m afraid—the trauma makes you forget the pain, unfortunately for me. What comes next, kitten?”

Konoe’s stomach roils—he feels sick, nauseated. He doesn’t want to remember.

The picture gets clear again when Papa demands he strip—and Konoe hesitates. Papa yells and Konoe flinches at the sound, even at the memory of his voice. He has to obey him. He doesn't have a choice. Konoe strips off his clothing—humiliated and exposed—never more ashamed—aware of Firi watching his punishment with that strange look on his face. Is it glee? Lust? Joy? It’s Froud’s joy, that’s the expression! Then—blurry and fuzzy again—from the pain—only until the yardstick breaks over the backs of his thighs. Konoe can even remember the feel of that blow, and goosebumps traverse his skin when he remembers it.

As he remembers that vivid pain, he feels Froud shaking around him—trembling and sighing with pleasure—and Konoe sickens again. 

The desperate hope that the beating is over when the stick breaks—only to realize no, it resumes with an item of his own clothing. He feels the sharp difference in pain—stinging and fresh—the belt compared to the yardstick, and his stepfather’s anger, his words, yelling “confess, confess,” to something he did not do—the injustice, the shame, the humiliation, the trauma.

Konoe’s stomach heaves, and he gags and chokes. He manages to turn his head on his own just before he vomits.

Froud helps him by gently turning his body so he can throw up on the grass without soiling his clothes or the devil. He empties the contents of his stomach, while Froud rubs his shoulders and holds his hair out of the way.

“Hou, what a memory!” Froud whispers softly. “A visceral memory like that one makes me hotter than anything that yellow devil can offer!” He giggles a little.

A horrible shiver goes through Konoe’s body, and he glances up at Froud. Did he enjoy that? In… a sexual way?

“Very much, thank you. Perhaps... you have one other that interests me. You were trying not to think of it earlier. I want you to remember it now. You thought of it when I mentioned your scent—and me helping myself?”

“No!” Tears fill Konoe’s eyes. “Please, wasn’t that enough?” 

Already, however, the memory floats to the surface of his mind.

“Are you doing something to me?” the kitten cries. He does not want to remember!

“Oh… tears—real tears. Perhaps I am,” Froud says, smiling and brushing the kitten’s tears with his thumbs. “But only because I want to know you better. It seems you had been discovered, yes? The prince’s clothing had been discovered in your room. Do you remember now, little one?”

Another shiver, this one turns into a violent tremor as it rushes through Konoe’s body.

The juxtaposition of the clothing—and the memory of Rai’s sweet scent—which were placed in the chair so close to the kitten’s nose—when he was first accused of being a thief.

First—because no one would want you for you. That is what Papa Leaks has told him.

Second, he was being punished for involving an outsider.

Third, he was accused of hiding his involvement with Rai, since he had hidden the clothing, keeping the precious items safe from Firi’s prying eyes, he’d hoped.

Leaning over the armchair—Konoe obeyed his stepfather’s command as he was afraid to disobey—stripped from the waist down—with Rai’s clothes in the chair—

“Could you smell Shiro Nekochan on the clothing?” Froud interrupts. “Did you think to blame him—think to blame him for his involvement? It was his fault, in a way, wasn’t it? It was his fault you were being punished.”

“No,” Konoe whispers. The scent was a comfort. Rai was a friend—help in time of need. I felt responsible for not having hidden my friendship with an outsider more carefully. I took the blame.

But that’s when he feels those fingers—slipping against him, sliding where they do not belong, intruding on his personal, most private space, and making him feel sick. And he hears Papa say those words, “Be still. I want to check if you were taken advantage of, if you let another cat use your body, or if you were telling me the truth.”

“Ah—so Papa was jealous? Did he use you, too?” 

“No!” Konoe cries, horrified. He would never even think such a thing. He was my father.

“I see. So he only wished to because you reminded him of his lover—you are the last tie to his dead husband, after all, precious kitten,” Froud says in that honeyed tone.

“No,” Konoe whispers, his voice full of tears. “He is my father, my Papa.” But now—the kitten’s mind is filled with doubt and confusion, and he feels sick again. 

“I see. You still need to see him as good. You are a pure-hearted soul indeed,” Froud murmurs. “I thank you for sharing that precious memory with me. Hang onto it—think about it. It’s good for you, I think.”

Konoe leans over and heaves up again, though most of the contents of his stomach are gone. Only bile is expelled, and his small body is wracked with violent dry heaving, almost like it is trying to expel the memory itself. 

“You poor thing, let’s get you back to the inn,” Froud strokes Konoe’s black fur, as though it isn’t his fault he has been sick. Konoe is still trembling and afraid when Froud lifts him in his arms. But the green-haired devil, disguised as a cat, carries the exhausted kitten back to the inn without further trouble, occasionally enjoying and indulging in the blossoming scent at his ears. 

Chapter Text

Konoe wakes up shortly before dinner in the bed he shares with Bardo. The door to the room is open, and he can hear Bardo preparing dinner. He is aching and sore—but he is reluctant to say anything and would never complain. He pulls himself out of bed, grabs an apron, and wanders into the kitchen. 

The kitten’s shoulders are really sore. He took a quick peek at them after getting up, and they are marked from Froud’s attack earlier. He is still very tired, but he thinks he should be able to make it through dinner, so he pastes a smile on his face and walks into the kitchen to greet Bardo.

The tiger cat immediately stops what he is doing and turns to face the kitten.

“You’ve been exhausting yourself, Konoe.” His tone is accusing. “What have you been up to these past few days? You come home in the afternoons absolutely spent—and today, that cat with green hair said he found you sleeping in the grass just outside the woods. That’s dangerous! Have you been practicing your song so much that you can’t even make it back home on your own? Have you been learning more new songs?”

“Both, I suppose,” Konoe confesses, a shy smile on his face. “But the event starts tomorrow—and I know I’ll be impressive—”

“Konoe!” Bardo interrupts sharply.

The tiger has never spoken sharply to Konoe, so when he does, it catches his attention and makes him flinch. Bardo doesn’t mean to frighten him and feels bad watching the kitten’s ears flatten in fear. But Bardo needs to be sure he is heard.

“Kitten,” he says more softly, approaching the black kitten, whose eyes are downcast, “you have gone over and above what that prince deserves. If he cannot see your value as a Sanga—even with just your own song—he is not worth your time.”

“But—”

“But nothing!” Bardo says again sharply, not letting the kitten finish. “I am older and have more experience. He may be an excellent Touga, but he also has obligations as the next ruler. There are plenty of other talented Touga who would treat you like the precious Sanga you are, just for yourself, cursed or not. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Bardo watches as Konoe bites his lip, as though he is trying to suppress his words, and then also as his lower lip comes out of his mouth in somewhat of a pout. He can’t suppress a small smile. It reminds him so much of Rai as a child. Bardo knew the prince as a child—he helped train him, after all. And those children—those who suffered from abuse—they are so hesitant to speak up for themselves. When they do, it’s a sight to see.

“Go ahead,” Bardo says gently, encouragingly. “Say what’s on your mind.” 

“I—” Konoe starts, still keeping his eyes on the floor.

To Bardo’s horror, he sees several tears drip from the kitten’s face to the floor. Now he’s done it—he’s made the precious black kitten cry! The last thing he wanted to do—ever—and he’s done it. 

“Konoe,” Bardo says softly. 

“I think I love him.” His voice is soft, but there is not a trace of doubt in his words. He said he “thinks,” but only to soften the words, only to make himself sound submissive. But there is not a trace of doubt in those honey-colored eyes that are raised up to meet his own. Not a trace of doubt. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I will do. If he doesn’t accept me, I don’t know what I will do.”

The desperation in the kitten’s voice is heartbreaking.

Bardo takes two large steps forward and takes the kitten in his arms, feeling his little body stiffen instantly. He does not want an embrace—that’s for sure—but Bardo doesn’t care. Bardo hugs him anyway, and he nuzzles those soft black ears that he has groomed so many times before, just like he soothed those soft, silky white ones years earlier.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. You have my full support. Let me know what you need and how I can help, and I will do anything. You know that, don’t you? I wish I could remove this collar, but perhaps your friends can find a way to hide it or make it part of your costume.”

There is a small pause, and the kitten’s body relaxes just slightly, and he lets himself be embraced, but he does not return it. He takes a deep breath, but Bardo feels his nervousness, since it catches in his chest as he breathes. 

“Thank you,” whispers the kitten, directly into his chest.

“You will do fine. I’m sure he will appreciate you. He is a good cat.” 

“How do you know?” Konoe looks up. 

“Oh—I guess I never told you. I helped train him as a Touga many years ago. But that is his story to tell, not mine.” Bardo offers him a wry smile.

“What? You did? As in—sword training?” Konoe asks. Bardo could have helped me train—as a Sanga—as my Touga? But then—I would be pairing with him. And that might have been a mistake, and he probably knew that.

“He is lucky to have found you.” 

“Mmm,” Konoe acknowledges Bardo’s statement, but doesn’t agree. Then, the guests start to arrive—busy for a Wednesday. Konoe avoids eye contact with the devils for the most part, especially Froud, who is watching him limp, and Verg, who keeps trying to grab him. He can hear them talking in low voices, and they stop every time he walks up to their table, which makes him think they are probably discussing him. It makes him nervous, but he ignores it.

Again, this evening, Tokino stops by, and he peeks into the dining room. To Konoe’s surprise, he has his eye on Verg.

“What are you doing here?” Konoe asks. “Don’t you have an early day tomorrow?” 

“I do—but you have some handsome guests staying here. I noticed the last time I was here, and I was thinking—you know—maybe I might talk to one of them while they are in town.”

“Which guests?” Konoe asks nervously.

“You know—the one with white hair and the strange eyes. I like him. He looks rather exotic.” 

Something about Tokino’s voice doesn’t ring true, however. Plus the fact that Tokino could be interested in Verg frightens Konoe to death.

“Please, Tokino—not that one. He’s—” and then, Konoe realizes he can’t tell him that is the devil he was talking to him about, because he doesn’t want Tokino to find out and do something rash.

“Why? Don’t you have your eye on the prince? You’ll be seeing him tomorrow, Konoe! Isn’t that great? I’m so excited for you!” Again, something isn’t quite ringing true with his tone, but Konoe can’t quite place it. “Surely you don’t want the inn’s guests to yourself as well.” Tokino smiles and pokes his head into the dining room again, this time capturing the attention of all the devils at that table. When he turns back to Konoe, he is wearing his most charming smile. 

Gods, this couldn’t be worse, Konoe thinks.

“It’s not that, Tokino,” the kitten says. “It’s just—he seems dangerous. When I go to the table or up to change the sheets in his room, it’s like he’s there lying in wait for me.”

“Well, it’s almost that season, isn’t it? Some of us might like that kind of action,” Tokino gives him a wink.

What? Is he being serious? Konoe can’t believe it. But there’s nothing he can do.

At the end of the evening, Tokino has disappeared—Konoe hopes he has gone home. After he has cleared the dining room, and before wandering out for his bath, he asks Bardo, “Will you be all right if I am gone four nights in a row?” 

“Of course, I will be. You will go and enjoy yourself.” Bardo ruffles his hair. 

Konoe takes a quick bath and then heads to bed. Bardo stays in the kitchen a little longer, drinking a little alcohol he has saved for a special occasion. He can’t imagine being without this black kitten. If he is honest, his heart is a little broken.

After finishing up several shots of the alcohol, he heads to bed for the nightly routine. The kitten is already asleep—facing the wall, as usual. Bardo brushes his fur and hair gently, and then grooms his ears carefully. It may be one of the last times he gets to do this.  

That night, Konoe has another dream, during which he finds himself in that dark and warm underwater place, where he can hear what must be his mother’s heartbeat and his father’s soft music. He stays there quite a bit longer than he has in past dreams, listening to the song and the heartbeat, simply floating and relaxing, wondering if this is really a dream or if this is something more, like an early memory of his subconscious.

Instead of being violently catapulted to that empty space where he met the four devils, after some time he feels himself floating gently to another place. It’s a completely different sensation than the violent movement he felt earlier. It’s still slightly disorienting, and he realizes he is moving, but it’s more like being lifted and carried somewhere rather than being wrenched from one environment to another.

He blinks his eyes and when he next opens them, he is stunned by his surroundings. He is deep in the forest, but he recognizes these woods. They are outside of his house in Karou, the ones in which he would often lose himself as a child with his father. He can smell the greenery, the familiar flowers, the forest floor, the earthy smell. It’s beautiful, and it makes his heart lift.

He is sitting in a pile of leaves—is it autumn? When he looks up, the colors of the leaves seem to be a variety of different shades of yellow, orange, and red, and many have fallen or are in the process of falling from the trees in preparation for the upcoming winter season. The air feels cool and sweet on Konoe’s skin.

This is unlike any dream he has had before—and then, the sound hits his eardrums. It’s his father, Shui, playing his instrument, strumming the lute slowly, deliberately, picking out the chords delicately—a song about the changing seasons. It sounds so real and so close—but this is not a memory. He can’t remember ever having been out in the woods with his father like this with Shui playing this song.

He sits up straight, tilting his ears and face in the direction of the song, and there—not ten feet from him—is Shui.

“Father,” Konoe says softly.

The red hair is unmistakable. Shui isn’t wearing his hood, either, but he is dressed typically in disheveled layers and layers of clothing, like the eccentric minstrel he is, wearing those shocking orange boots with spats, and a scarf, and he looks up at Konoe’s gresting.

“Konoe, my dear son,” Shui replies. He puts his instrument down and opens his arms, for Konoe is already on his feet and rushing to fall into them.

“Ah, how I have missed you, Dad!” Konoe cries, tears sliding down his cheeks. Is this a dream? It feels so real—but it even smells like his father. It feels like him, it looks like him, it sounds like him. 

“I’ve missed holding you, Konoe, but I’ve always been watching over you. I am sorry for what has happened to you—and so sorry for what’s happened between you and Papa Leaks. I should have left him better instructions, and while he means well, he has hurt you so much—wounded you beyond what I could have ever imagined. His pain and loneliness run very deep. But you understand this. What you may not understand is that he is an adult, and he needs to take care of himself and not push his pain off on you. It grieves me deeply to see him take it out on you like he has.”

Konoe looks up at his father, and he sees tears in his father’s eyes.

“Watching his actions toward you over the past year has made me regret marrying him—though honestly, I was blinded by my love for him, and I thought I would always be there to protect you, Konoe. I am so sorry. Will you forgive me?”

“Dad,” Konoe whispers, snuggling into his father’s arms and hiding his face. “There is nothing to forgive.”

“You see only the best in people, I know—you have always done so. I love that about you.” Shui strokes his son’s ears gently. “But that is not the only reason I am here.”

“Oh?” Konoe looks up, curiously.

“You have a special event coming up, don’t you?” Shui’s eyes sparkle with joy. “I wish I could be there with you. I am so proud of you. But I have a lesson I’d like to teach you, if I can—one I should have taught you before I passed. I hope it’s not too late.”

Konoe’s ears perk up.

“A Sanga’s job is to support his Touga—and the primary method of doing so is with a deep bond that he has with his Touga. Many Sanga and Touga pairs—the strongest in our history—have been lovers, in fact, but this is a natural development between two cats who share such a bond.”

“I see,” Konoe says, slightly hesitant. 

“Your song is not only meant for fighting. It can protect your precious partner as well. In fact, I would suggest that is its primary purpose. You can heal your partner if he is injured, as well as protect him from harm, if you need to. You can sing to him if his heart is troubled or sing when words are not enough to express the difficult feelings you need to express. All these things will deepen your bond. And Konoe,” Shui says, his voice turning into a warning, making the kitten’s ears twitch nervously, “I think you will need to deepen your bond with Rai soon over the next few days. You will do that with your own song, not with these tricks that the devils have taught you.” 

“How—how will I know which song to use?” Konoe asks. “Was it a mistake to involve them?” 

“Ginji meant well for you, I believe, but he didn’t mean to get all these creatures involved. And there are several who desire much more than they are saying, and they do not wish for you to succeed. Try to determine which want you to succeed and which do not.”

The kitten wrinkles his forehead and scratches his head.

“That feeling you have when you think of your Touga—that is what should be on your heart when you sing. There is nothing more powerful in a song than love. Do you understand? It is unbreakable,” Shui explains, stroking his son’s ears gently.

“Unbreakable?” Konoe repeats. He doesn’t see himself as powerful. He’s just a slave—an indentured servant, after all. He can’t even get the customers in the dinning room to keep their hands to themselves. 

“When your partner hears how you feel, he will fight for you—you will warm his heart and his feelings, he will respond to you, the bond will sustain you, and power will flow in both directions. You will see when you try it,” Shui explains. “That is not to say you cannot try the new songs you’ve practiced so hard and sacrificed so much to learn. And you will sacrifice more still in having learned them.”

“Father—do you know what Verg wants from me?” Konoe asks. Shui can feel his son trembling when he speaks the devil of pleasure’s name.

“Sadly, I cannot tell you,” Shui replies. “There are things I can see in this world that I am not permitted to share with those in the apparent realm, but I will do everything in my power to protect you. However—deals with demons are grounded in the hidden realm, where even I have no influence over them.”

His son shudders. 

“You will be fine. He does not wish to kill you. Just remember where your heart is—and remember what you can do with your song. Do not let yourself be overcome with guilt or grief. Do you understand?” Shui instructs.

“I think so.” Konoe loves the safety of his father’s arms. 

“You have many allies in your world—a few of which you know not. The orange tabby is trying to help you—even today. He is walking very close to danger and does not know it.”

“Tokino?” Ah—is that why he was asking about Verg? How could he have found out? Konoe wonders. 

“He will do as he pleases because he loves you, Konoe. He knows your heart is taken, but we often act foolishly out of our love for others.” 

Shui drops a soft kiss on the tips of each of his son’s ears, and he smiles. “You know, you look so much like Papa Leaks with your fur this color. It’s quite attractive on you.”

“Dad!” Konoe says, pulling away, but he can’t help smiling. “Have you—do you ever—have you ever visited Papa Leaks in a dream? He might really like this.”

“I have tried, but there is a certain purity of heart that is required for such a visit, and my attempts have not yet been successful. However, the next time you see him, tell him you saw me and that I still hold him accountable to the promise he made to me at the waterfall. He will know what that means, and it may be enough to make him reconsider what he is doing. He isn’t all bad—as you know—but his behavior toward you is unacceptable.”

“Father,” Konoe says again, holding on a little tighter. “Please—don’t go yet!” A few more tears drip down his cheeks.

“Tomorrow is the first day of the prince’s birthday celebration, and you will shine like the star I raised you to be. I am very proud of you, Konoe—for everything. You tried your best to take care of our family after I passed—and I am so, so proud of you. You will still succeed in this. It will be hard work, and you will suffer, but do not succumb to the suffering. You will succeed. I only wish I could have met Rai as the adult he is today, face-to-face. He seems like a wonderful person for you—kind-hearted and gentle, and worthy of your love, worthy of my son. You have my blessing.”

“Dad!” Konoe cries now, sobs sneaking out. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet!”

“Shhh, it’s all right. You will see me again soon. I promise. Now, go back to sleep and rest well. I love you more than life itself—more than death itself. Even the strong border between the hidden and apparent realms could not keep us apart. Now sleep, Konoe.” 

Konoe still feels the powerful arms of his father wrapped around him, feels his father wiping his tears and struggles to keep his eyes open, even when his father brushes over his eyelids, closing them.

He falls into a deep, restful sleep.  

Thursday morning, the black kitten wakes up with a giant stretch, and he feels very well rested—even all the aches and pains from his fight with Froud have disappeared. He is excited beyond belief that the day has finally come. It’s been six weeks since he has seen Rai, and Konoe is surprised to find that his desire to lay eyes on the prince hasn’t decreased in the slightest. However, his anxiety has increased somewhat. 

Konoe is energized and gets through all of his chores, ignoring advances from Verg—and ignoring that nagging feeling at the back of his mind—but realizes that Kaltz is watching his interactions with that particular devil. 

“When you’ve finished with your chores, come see me,” Kaltz suggests. “We will work on your disguise for this evening’s festivities.” 

Konoe is beside himself. Even with his thoughts in the clouds, a picture of the silver prince at the forefront of his mind, he does his chores diligently, thinking that tomorrow, he may be tired. So he does a very thorough job today. 

He finishes before the noon-day bells ring and then walks up the stairs to Kaltz’s room, sneaking past Verg’s door.

However, Verg’s door swings open as he walks past, startling him. He lowers his ears and his stance when he sees the devil standing in the doorway. 

“Where are you sneaking off to, Chibineko?” 

“I was summoned by Kaltz.” 

“What an interesting choice of words,” Verg says, and an arm shoots out—a surprisingly long arm—and snatches the kitten by the waist, pulling him in close. He can feel Verg’s breath in his ears, in his hair, on his neck—and he is repulsed and frightened by what this devil is going to ask of him once his evening is complete. 

“What do you want from me?” Konoe growls. An ear flicks backward when he hears another door in the hall open behind him.

“I just forgot what you felt like and I wanted a little reminder. That’s all,” Verg purrs into his ear, following his words with a sound lick. “Do you want a little reminder of what is in store for you as well?”

To Konoe’s horror, he feels Verg’s hand creeping down to the base of his tail, and he stiffens. He does not want one of those shocks! Not today—today is a good day—he doesn’t want to suffer like this today. 

“Please—Verg—don’t touch me—” 

Something that sounds like glass breaking zips past Konoe’s ears, and Verg yells and swears loudly. He releases Konoe suddenly, too, and the kitten drops to the floor and skitters away from the devil.

When he looks at Verg, he notices that there are shards of sharp icicles surrounding him, including several imbedded in his hand—the one that was about to shock him.

“When a cat asks you not to touch him, it means don’t touch him,” a quiet, calm voice says from behind Konoe. The voice belongs to Kaltz. “The kitten already has a prior engagement with me, Verg.”

“Jeez, Kaltz—so prickly! But… that might be fun, too—if you just gave me a chance!” Verg almost sounds like he’s pleading.

“Come, Konoe. Let’s get away from that brute. He has no manners.” Kaltz leads a rather stunned Konoe into his room.

Chapter Text

“All right,” Kaltz says. “Just a few more finishing touches.” The kitten has been in his room for over an hour, and each time the devil touches his body it makes small tinkling sounds like glasses clinking against each other. “It is a masked ball, is it not?” 

“Yes,” Konoe answers nervously. His outfit feels a little snug, but he is able to move quite easily. His body is covered in a beautiful, shimmering fabric. His stomach feels full of butterflies.

The blue devil touches the kitten’s face, his cold fingers tracing his eyes gently, and then move into his hair, fluffing it out, pulling it every which way. It feels weird when he lets each strand go because the hair stays where it is.

“I think you look even more fetching than usual. And you can remove the mask if you like.” Kaltz waves his hand toward the wall, and a giant mirror appears. Konoe recognizes Kaltz, but next to him, where he should see himself, he sees a glittering, mysterious creature he does not recognize, and he inhales sharply at this transformation.

He is dressed head to toe in what looks like snow and ice, glittering subtly, the only colors other than silver and white are his black fur, which sparkles with silver, his ash blonde hair—also so light as to appear almost silver—and just a hint of gold in his eyes, which are barely detectable under the silver mask, which covers just the top part of his face. 

His hair is sticking straight up and out, sparkling silver, in big chunky pieces, and it looks huge and full, styled in the shape of a crown. Pale and elegant, he doesn’t need any jewelry from the elegant snow crystals shimmering across his body.

His black ears are dramatic accents in his hair, but they too seem to fit the overall minimal aesthetic.

The mask is also silver, a subtle iridescent shimmer rather than chunky-looking glitter, which allows the warm natural gold color of his eyes to shine through.

He is dressed in form-fitting clothing, but they are comfortable and easy to move in—both on top and bottom. His sleeves bell out slightly, permitting easy movement, and the neck is a high crew neck. The pants skim his body in a very tight fit and look almost indecent around his hips, showing off his hip bones, but all his skin is modesty covered. Also, his body subtly shimmers under the fabric with every movement. In the light, when he moves, he shimmers like snow. He is wearing two crossed belts low across his hips, which accent their width even more—not that his hips need to look any wider, he thinks, but it looks quite mesmerizing.

His boots are soft and the same uniform fabric as his outfit, elongating his slender, shapely legs. If he turns to the side, his butt looks gorgeous, but he can’t help blushing a little at the sight. 

“Ah, is this going to be all right?” he asks. “I feel a little indecent!” 

“You show no skin,” Kaltz says. “I think you look quite fetching. Would you like a cape?” Waving his hands again, he produces a cape—in white fur, soft and supple. The texture reminds him of Rai’s tail, only short, and it covers his shoulders. Its hem stops well above his navel, so it accents his slim waist, as well as the curve of his hips. Strangely, the cape seems to make his outfit feel even more indecent.

Kaltz touches his collar and adds a little white fur to it, as well as to the tops of his boots.

The collar looks like it’s made of ice—truly a decorative piece. And his black tail, while it has a few sparkles on it, stands out fantastically against the silver. 

Konoe has never felt attractive before—however, he certainly does today. If he saw a cat that looked like him on the street, he would think him an exotic prince. He is so grateful that tears come to his eyes unbidden.  

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“You will turn everyone’s heads,” Kaltz smiles in a friendly way. “Are you ready? My only condition is that we leave the palace by midnight.”

He is excited to show Bardo, so he wanders out of the room down the hall, taking a few tentative steps downstairs and a few shy steps into the kitchen. Bardo is getting started with dinner, and he immediately looks up, since he recognizes Konoe’s soft steps. His jaw drops. 

“Holy shit.”

There’s a lengthy pause, and the kitten can’t tell if his reaction is good or bad.

“Is it bad? Too much?” 

“No! You look perfect. You look amazing, Konoe.” Bardo is trying to keep himself together. He can’t believe the gorgeous, sexy creature standing before him is the same innocent kitten who was helping him with the chores earlier in the day. Has he always had a body like that?

Tokino has also planned to stop by and lets himself in the back door. He freezes when he sees Konoe, and the black kitten looks up at him and smiles.

“What do you think? Would you recognize me?” 

Tokino can’t even speak for a moment—and he feels something deep within his heart shatter like glass. He knows that when the prince sees this magical creature he will certainly fall for him, even if he doesn’t recognize him as Konoe. The hope for his own love of this adorable black cat with oversized ears shatters to pieces. But this is his friend, he remembers, and he has to root for him, this pure-hearted kitten who thinks the best of everyone.

“Konoe, you look gorgeous.”

The other three devils have joined them in the kitchen as well. Verg is particularly impressed.

“This looks painted on, so risqué! Not at all what I expected from you, Kaltz! How will I top this outfit?” Of course, he can’t keep his hands to himself, helping himself to the smaller cat’s tail and hips, even when he shyly ducks out of the way. “Waa! So smooth!”

“Excellent taste, Kaltz,” Razel says. “Very refined and elegant.” Razel strokes Konoe’s ears. “Ah, your hair is a bit stiff for my taste, though.”

“Nekochan looks good enough to eat, doesn’t he?” Froud says, but the kitten thinks everything the green devil says sounds spooky and worrisome. 

Bardo leans down to gently nuzzle a sparkling black ear.

“Enjoy yourself, little one,” Bardo whispers.

“It is time,” Kaltz says calmly.

Konoe wonders how they will arrive, but Kaltz wanders out to the back of the inn and opens his arms to the kitten.

“Come.”

Only a little hesitant, Konoe goes to him, and they teleport directly outside the castle the moment the kitten touches his arms.  

The ballroom is decorated beautifully. There must be over 100 kittens in attendance, many with their chaperones. Kaltz fits right in, grabbing a drink for Konoe, getting him food at the buffet and so forth.

Many of the kittens are playing music and dancing, making a rather unpleasant cacophony of noise, but the prince isn’t here yet. Konoe’s ears, eyes, and nose are perked up for his presence—and Konoe is unaware that his own costume is by far the one that is turning the most heads. As he was a late arrival, many turned to watch him enter, whispering among themselves about this strange exotic prince. The kitten notices their stares and wonders what they would think if they knew he was just a servant. 

Within about half an hour, however, he hears a fanfare, and the prince is announced. He is in formal dress, but not exactly a costume. He is wearing a mask—but Konoe would recognize him anywhere. He is breathtakingly beautiful, even from across the room. 

“If we could ask the guests to remain where they are, so as not to mob His Grace, the prince will be making his way around the room to greet each of you.” 

While Konoe waits patiently, several kittens approach him, asking if he’d like to dance. He’s surprised by each invitation and doesn’t know what to do. But right now—he’s just waiting for Rai to fulfill his duty as the prince, so he might as well have some fun. Kaltz suggests he get in some practice—“It’s a ball, isn’t it, little one?” If the devil of grief is encouraging him to dance, he might as well. So he agrees. 

He learned several dances from his father when he was young, and his father and Papa Leaks would often help him practice. So this is fun—and he finds he enjoys himself quite a bit—his heart lifting. He is smiling, and each partner glows with pride. Plus, he is naturally gifted with rhythm and he can move his body well. Kaltz’s costume accents his body and is easy to dance in, too—and the black kitten finds himself smiling and enjoying himself, though he would much rather dance with the prince.

“What’s your name? Where are you from? Can I see you again? I find you simply enchanting!” 

“I thank you,” Konoe bows. “You are most kind. I enjoyed the dance so much. However, I’m afraid my heart is already taken.”

“Ah—I see. Well, I’ll snap you up if he doesn’t claim you soon!”

During Konoe’s third dance, he realizes the prince has purposely taken the floor and seems to be trying to approach him. Once he bows to his partner and thanks him, Konoe finally finds himself face to face with Rai, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s so handsome—and I’d forgotten how good he smells. It’s a little different than I remember. More powerful? Maybe sweeter? Absolutely mouthwatering. Distracting.

“Welcome,” Rai says, meeting the kitten’s gaze.

Konoe drops into a low bow and says, “Your Grace, thank you for your hospitality and invitation. Please, I know you have so many obligations and guests to see tonight, and I am nothing but a cursed cat. I am here to offer you my service as a Sanga, if you would permit it.”

Opening his mouth, Konoe quietly sings a gentle and brilliantly sad melody—the one he learned from Kaltz—and manages to pull an ice sculpture rose from the prince’s glass.

“What—what is this?” Rai asks, stunned—and hearing his voice makes tears spill from the kitten’s eyes. Maybe he was overwhelmed by the sad song? 

“For you, Your Grace.” Konoe offers him the rose. The guests surrounding him are in awe by the display, talking among themselves. The kitten hears many theories—from him being a demon to a sorcerer to a magician, but no one guesses that he is a Sanga! 

“It’s made from ice?” Rai asks.

“This song allows me to control the essence of water and ice. I’d love to show you more if you have time.” The kitten’s heart is thumping loudly in his ears, but he keeps his face lowered humbly to the floor.

“I would very much. I’d like to see your gift now—but please, allow me to finish my obligations, if you don’t mind.”

“Thank you. You honor me.” 

“Don’t you dare leave,” Rai says, his voice just a little harsh, and then it changes to something surprisingly soft. “Wait for me outside on the veranda. I’ve been searching for you.” 

Konoe looks up sharply—has he been recognized? But the prince has already turned on his heel and is continuing his greetings. It was a sentence that could have been taken either way.

I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror. There’s no way the prince could, Konoe assures himself. Then, his mind starts to worry.

Taking his drink with him, he wanders outside. Several cats are admiring the gardens outside, others are playing soft tunes—he even sees one playing on a lute that reminds him a little of Shui. He realizes they look up when he comes outside, but he looks away—looking off into the gardens and the forest beyond.

What did Papa Leaks tell Rai when he came for him the day he was sold? Does Rai think Konoe changed his mind? Abandoned him? Ran away? There’s no way the prince knows the truth of what happened to him these past two months. 

Should I tell him the truth? Because this prince is surely meant to rule—and I cannot let him choose love over duty—and that’s if—and the kitten swallows again, painfully—only if Rai feels the same for me as he did before. Was that love? Was that only concern for my wellbeing? Was that only, as Froud suggested, a desire for power?

In any case, Konoe doesn’t really care, as long as he can earn his place by the prince’s side. He will serve him, be a companion and friend, anything—as long as he can stay by his side. Even if Rai has found some other partner, that’s all right with him. He will cross that bridge when he comes to it. 

Especially since now, after reading so many books about Touga and Sanga of the past, he knows that the most powerful pairs have had close and intimate relationships. To his surprise—even sibling pairs have some sort of connection—the ones that have shared some kind of physical intimacy to deepen their bond have been the most powerful—not necessarily a sexual relationship, but a physical relationship of some kind.

I can understand why, thinks the kitten. If he is going to trust me with his life, enter his mind and more importantly his heart, of course, Rai would have to trust me—his body, mind, and heart. And from what he has read, the power actually flows in both directions.

Am I ready for that kind of relationship with the prince? I want him to touch me—the moment I saw him, I realized it. The moment I heard his voice, the sounds reaching my ears felt like a caress. And Konoe realizes he is a hopeless case. He would allow himself to be used by the prince if it was his desire. But the prince he knows would never do anything he didn’t wish.

The kitten remembers the whole embarrassing and enlightening discussion Rai had with him about the mating season. It was their second meeting—their last meeting. Rai went out of his way to discuss things his father should have told him, telling him that he would wait for him, would never touch him until he was ready. 

Ah—I am 16 now! Konoe realizes. He didn’t realize his birthday was so close to Rai’s, although the prince is two years older. Konoe just had his birthday, but it has been so busy that the day slipped right past. Plus—Bardo is his owner. Should he be required to celebrate his birthday? Certainly not with a party with music, dancing, cake, and a funny little gift, like Dad always did. A few tears surface, nearly making their way dangerously close to the brim, but Konoe fights them back. 

Was that the night Shui came to him in his dream? Was he telling him happy birthday? Was that his gift? It would be so like his father to do something like that. Konoe tries to remember. It was Wednesday.

Konoe’s father would always get him a gift every year for his birthday, even if Konoe didn’t think he needed one, or if he felt he was too old for such indulgences. But it would be something so unique and wonderful, something he never knew he wanted, and it would soon become one of his most prized possessions. Dad was so good at choosing gifts. And he’d always write a new silly song—Konoe’s Year In Review. He smiles remembering it. He didn’t do that in his dream—he probably couldn’t bring himself to do it. But… something he said makes me think he was trying to or was going to, and it came out too sad. Shui’s voice echoes in the kitten’s head.

“Watching his actions toward you over the past year has made me regret marrying him—though honestly, I was blinded by my love for him, and I thought I would always be there to protect you, Konoe. I am so sorry. Will you forgive me?”

The kitten shifts on his feet, sighs, and his reverie is interrupted by a light tap on his shoulder. There is a dark-haired, long-furred, very tall and handsome cat standing there. Possibly another young Setsuran, based on his build.

“Excuse my interruption. I saw you dancing earlier. You dance beautifully. May I have the pleasure?” 

“Oh,” the kitten is a little surprised. “Thank you.” He offers a friendly smile. “Thanks so much for your invitation, but I am waiting to meet someone at the moment.”

“I see I have been too late in my request for your hand. You will be attending tomorrow’s festivities, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Konoe replies, slightly confused. 

“Might I have the pleasure of a dance then?”

He is quite insistent, the kitten thinks. He wonders why. “Of course. If you can find me.” 

“I assure you, you won’t slip through my fingers,” the brunette states firmly, bowing slightly and taking one of Konoe’s hands in both of his, kissing the back of it gently. 

The kitten is shocked by his action. Isn’t this sort of thing reserved for courtship? What is he doing? Isn’t he just interested in me as an interesting dance partner?

“I’ve never seen a cat move as you do. You are absolutely enchanting. I’d wait for you forever.”

A nonsensical sound drops from Konoe’s slips at this point, much to his embarrassment. 

The brunette looks up—Konoe can see dark red eyes through his mask, and he is wearing a very fine costume, accented with jewels. He offers a beautiful smile that melts the kitten’s heart just a little.

What am I thinking? 

“Wait! Please, wait!” the kitten exclaims, as the brunette stands to leave. He turns back in an instant. 

“I feel I should let you know I am waiting for someone here.”

“You said as much,” the brunette says softly, a gentle smile on his face. 

“I-I don’t know how this person feels about me, but this person has stolen my heart,” Konoe admits. “I made a lot of sacrifices to come here, and I paid dearly for the next few evenings. And I did it all for this person. Th-that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate you, and it doesn’t mean I d-don’t wish to dance with you. I just don’t wish to falsely or unfairly raise your hopes.” 

“I understand, and I assumed you were waiting for your lover,” the brunette says plainly.

“Really?”

“I would love to dance with you anyway, sweep you off your feet, and let you know that you can be treated better. If you were mine, I would never make you wait—not out here, alone, during an evening such as this. He is a fool. If your feelings are not requited, you should consider me. I’d treat you like a prince.”

His words make Konoe giggle. I can’t help it! 

Just then, the doors to the ballroom swing open and the prince emerges, alone. He sees the kitten speaking to the brunette, who looks up suddenly, and then drops to his knee in a formal bow. He does work here at the castle, the kitten realizes, and he follows suit.

“Takeshi,” Rai’s voice sounds a little sharp, “you’d better not be flirting with my date.” 

“Your Grace?” The brunette doesn’t raise his eyes to the prince but the kitten notices he is slightly nervous. “He said he was waiting for someone, but I had no idea he meant you, Your Grace.”

“Your Grace, he only asked me to dance,” Konoe says softly. 

Rai takes Konoe’s hand and pulls him up to stand.

“There is no way that’s all he did or said,” the prince mumbles gruffly. “I’m sure he had other nefarious intentions. Go find another victim. This kitten is already taken. You’re excused.”

“Thank you, Your Grace!” Takeshi leaves immediately.

So the question remains now, how honest should I be? Should I come right out and state who I am, or see if he recognizes me? Should I be upfront and tell him what has happened? Thoughts race through the kitten’s mind.

The kitten decides to see how it goes. He knows he is a terrible liar, and he doesn’t wish to deceive the prince. But he has three more days—besides tonight—to tell him who he is, as well as share his story. If it comes to it, he will simply delay.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” Rai says. “May I—”

Black ears tilt up in his direction attentively. Rai looks at them carefully. So familiar. As is that soft, gentle voice. His body—though, even in these past weeks, his shape has changed a little, becoming a little curvier. Of course, I’ve never seen him in an outfit like this. But black fur? What has happened? He said he’s been cursed, but how?

“Your Grace?” the kitten asks.

Prince Rai looks directly at the black cat. “I’d like to talk to you face-to-face. Would you be so kind as to remove your mask?”

The kitten shifts uncomfortably. 

If it’s him, he will comply. He will have no choice but to obey my request—unless he has changed so much in the past eight weeks I have seen him.

Out of the corner of the prince’s eye, he sees a flash of the kitten’s jet black tail, swishing uncomfortably. The tip—it’s hooked, just like Konoe’s, when it didn’t heal properly.

Instead of insisting that he take off his mask, the prince takes the kitten’s small hand and pulls him toward the steps that lead into the garden.

“Come.”

The kitten struggles to keep up with his long gait. He’s forgotten what long legs his prince has, and his stomach fluttering so much is terribly distracting. He can’t believe he’s so close to Rai—he can smell his comforting scent and is reminded of the clothes that he borrowed so long ago, how comforting those were. It’s such a kind smell.

“I think you have some things to talk to discuss with me, little one,” Rai says, not glancing behind him.

The gardens are gorgeous—lit by just a few lamps and moonlight, which make the prince’s silver hair sparkle beautifully, just like the last time he saw him. The kitten can’t seem to take his eyes off the prince, either. Frankly, he’s giving himself away by the way he is staring.  

Rai’s outfit fits him perfectly. He’s dressed like a prince from a fairytale, wearing knee-length pin-striped black and royal blue silk breeches with white hose—or is that his skin? Konoe wonders, overwhelmed by the urge to touch those shapely calves to find out—a pure white blouse with a moderate lace cravat, a gorgeous pale blue embroidered vest, and a tailored pin-striped jacket, also in the house colors of royal blue and black, with contrasting upturned sleeves, which are the same shade of pale blue of the vest.

The collar of the jacket, its sleeves, and the hem are delicately embroidered without being overdone. It is designed to be worn open to display the vest underneath, which shows off the delicately embroidered edging along its collar and hem. All the fabric has a soft matte sheen, and it’s perfectly designed to bring out the prince’s natural good looks—especially his eyes and hair, and it’s been fitted to his body perfectly, while still allowing him to move freely.

He is wearing simple silk slippers with large buckles, and he has two sword belts strapped across his hips, which accent his figure. His hair has been tied back in a simple low ponytail, and it shows off the angular lines of his face, making him even more handsome than Konoe remembers.

The kitten is overwhelmed. He can see the pale blue of his eyes glinting behind the silver mask, which Rai reaches up to untie. The kitten can’t believe he could be any more beautiful than he is right now—he had forgotten just how gorgeous those pale blue eyes were—and they are now fully taking in the black kitten before him.

“I’ll ask you again,” Rai says, as he presses Konoe to sit on a bench in the secluded area in the garden. Of course, Konoe complies. They can hear the soft music from the ball, but there are no other cats around now. They are alone. “Will you remove your mask?” 

Konoe reaches behind his head and unties the mask, allowing it to fall in his hand. He keeps his eyes lowered, however, to his lap. I’m a cursed cat. I’m unworthy of such a cat’s attention or his love.

However, he’s startled by a familiar and gentle touch to his chin. When he meets Rai’s eyes, the prince is kneeling on the grass before him, his face close to his. 

“Konoe, where have you been all these weeks? I’ve been searching for you everywhere!” 

Tears overflow from the kitten’s eyes and immediately spill down his cheeks.

“You recognize me,” he whispers. 

“How could I not?” Rai asks, and he takes the trembling kitten into his arms, gently, stroking his back carefully, noting with happiness that the kitten melts into his embrace as if no time or distance has passed between them. “Where were you? What happened to you?”

“I-I don’t know if I can tell you everything,” Konoe explains. “I have only till midnight tonight. But I will come again tomorrow.”

“You won’t stay with me?” Rai sounds disappointed. “I thought you were here to stay!”

“I-I think you need to hear my tale first,” Konoe says cautiously. 

“I knew you didn’t run away,” Rai murmurs, directly into his ears. They are definitely jet black—although still as silky and plush as he remembers—and like in his dreams—only black, not that innocent white with brown tips, as though dipped in caramel. “Tell me.” He releases the now slightly trembling kitten from his arms, still crouching before him, taking both small hands in his own.

“Your Grace—” the kitten stammers. “Please, you should not...” 

“What is it?” Rai is genuinely worried about the kitten. “Are you afraid? What is the matter? Are you in danger?”

“It’s just—you should not kneel before me, sire. Please.” The kitten keeps his eyes downcast. Those gorgeous golden eyes look even prettier than Rai remembers—and his scent—it has changed, too. Could it be due to the season? Rai’s tail bristles at the base at the thought.

“Why? And why are you being so formal with me?”

“We are at your castle, sire!” 

“Very well.” Rai gets up and takes a seat on the bench next to Konoe, pulling his slender body close to his. It seems to melt right into his, much to his delight, despite the kitten’s nerves. So compliant. His scent has indeed changed, Rai has noticed. It is likely he will be going into heat this season, and soon, but thinking about that right now is too much of a distraction. He smells so nice, though. “Please, tell me your tale.”

“Ah, yes. I was so excited to meet you, of course. My stepfather did not approve, but he didn’t tell me. He tricked me, drugged me, feeding me some milk and honey—a treat Dad used to make to help me sleep at night—but he laced it with something evil—a sleeping potion and a curse, I’m not sure what it was supposed to do exactly.  When I woke, I had been sold.”

“Sold? You were sold?” For a moment, Rai doesn’t believe the kitten’s words.

“Yes, as an indentured servant. Now, I work at an inn in the city of Ransen. I was very afraid when I first started. My owner showed me what happens to servants who disobey or try to escape their owners—they were publicly punished at the square. However, my master is very kind. He gives me every afternoon off, makes sure I sleep and eat well, he takes me to the library and checks out books for me, and he protects me the best he can from the inn’s customers. I clean the inn and serve dinner to customers. Also, he has given me the next four nights off so I could find you.”

“Yet he purchased you?” Rai asks, and the kitten hears a growl in his chest.

“He didn’t know my circumstances when he purchased me. He was looking for a server for the dining room who would, um, help attract repeat customers to his establishment. And in the regard, I have done my job well.” The kitten looks down, intimidated by the growl. Has he done something wrong?

“I’m sure you have,” Rai says gently, stroking his ears softly.

“Once he heard my story, he promised to help me or to set me free once I come of age if this doesn’t work—since that’s the only thing he can do.”

“Did he now.” Rai doesn’t sound convinced. “So what happened to your fur?” He stokes the kitten’s ears again.

“Oh, uh. I’m not sure. I know it turned black because of the curse in my stepfather’s potion. I’m not exactly sure what happened, though. So—I want to prove my worth as a Sanga to you before serving you here at the castle. My master also said that it’s possible for you to confiscate ownership of me if you desire since I’m an indentured servant and you’re the prince of the realm. However, because I’m a cursed cat, I wouldn’t think having a cursed Sanga would go over well at the castle.” 

The kitten looks down at his hands again. He seems insecure and nervous. He hears the prince sigh.

“You are still yourself, aren’t you?” Rai asks.

“Well, yes, of course,” Konoe says, looking up at the prince apprehensively.

“You did nothing to bring the curse on yourself,” Rai says.

“Well, I displeased my stepfather and disobeyed him,” Konoe says sadly, his heart obviously full of regret. 

A sharp bolt of anger shoots through Rai when he sees the regret and sadness in this kitten. He was abused by the stepfather who cursed him—cruelly abused and mistreated by this person! 

“Listen. That man abused you. He has no right to call himself your stepfather, and you owe him nothing.” Perhaps his words are a little sharp since the kitten flattens his ears.

“He is all the family I have,” Konoe says softly.

“You don’t need him if you have me. Let me be your family, Konoe,” Rai urges.

“But—you can’t take on my curse if you don’t even know what it is!” the kitten cries desperately. “Plus, I have recruited extra help, and I have learned new songs that will help you wield powers I didn’t have before. I couldn’t have helped you as I was—as a cursed cat! I’d like to show you one of my new songs tonight, if you have the time. You have your sword, right?”

“A new song?” Rai’s eats perk up, and Konoe can’t help noticing how cute they look. Rounded, slightly small—so cute. He wants to lick them and is finding it hard to control himself. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel like this?

“This song controls the nature of water. Is there a body of water close by?” 

“Sure,” Rai stands up and takes the kitten’s arm, walking a little more slowly this time. He pulls him close while they walk, and Konoe enjoys the feeling of being close to the larger cat. They walk along the garden path and find a fountain.

“Perfect,” Konoe says. He closes his eyes and moves away from Rai slightly, trying to concentrate and experience the water. He hears its mournful essence and begins to sing.

Rai is shocked to watch the ground freeze over—everything except the path before his own feet.

“What is this?” he murmurs in amazement. “My path is clear!”

In his head, Konoe’s voice echoes softly, I am melting your way and your way alone. If you were fighting someone, they would lose their footing and freeze. You shouldn’t be cold, either.

“I see,” Rai says.

Draw your weapon, the kitten’s gentle voice suggests. 

Rai complies with his request. When he wields his sword, several sharp shards of ice shoot out of the tip, making sounds like glass breaking. 

“Fascinating!” Rai says although he experiences grief and sadness in his heart. “But what is this heavy feeling?”

That is the essence of water and ice, the nature of the song, the kitten’s voice replies. I didn’t know you would feel it, too. I’m sorry. 

When the silver cat looks at his face, the small kitten is weeping, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Enough! That’s enough,” Rai exclaims, rushing to the kitten.

Konoe looks up and stops singing, slightly confused.

“Didn’t you find it useful? Was I not useful enough?” The sadness remains in his voice.

“You were very useful! I just don’t like to see you so filled with grief!” 

The kitten suddenly loses his energy and drops to the ground—or nearly would have, if Rai didn’t catch him in his arms.

“I’m sorry—I’m still learning, and I haven’t practiced nearly enough,” the kitten explains, obviously exhausted. “I will practice more and more, and then I won’t become so exhausted. I don’t mean to inconvenience you. I’m not being very useful tonight.”

“You’re not being a bother,” Rai says. “That was a wonderful experience. I’m honored. Please stay with me, Konoe. Will you stay with me here, tonight?”

“What?”

Rai is sitting in the grass next to the fountain, and he has stretched the small kitten’s body out on the grass beside him, resting his head in his lap, stroking his ears with one hand, his neck and shoulders with the other.

“Serve me. I will help you break this curse. I’m sure once I announce that you are my official Sanga to the realm, your stepfather will revoke it, or I will ask him to revoke it. Or—we can visit a shaman and see how to break it ourselves. Please—I’ve searched for you every day these past weeks, and I’ve missed you. I’ve been worried. Your situation—Konoe—it couldn’t have been much worse. Let me help you!”

“Rai...” Konoe feels his face warming up and something in his chest heats up, too. Is it possible his prince hasn’t changed in the past weeks? Almost two months? 

“Please, consider it.”

The kitten takes a minute and closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the prince’s long fingers on his ears, the gentle massage on his neck and shoulders. What if he could feel this every day? What if they could do more?

“Rai, tonight—I can’t,” the black kitten whispers. “I want to—in fact, there is nothing I want more. And I plan to attend tomorrow—but tonight, I have to be home by midnight. My costume—it’s part of a spell—and I—” he hesitates, unsure as to whether he should confess to the prince about how he came about learning his new song. Looking up at Rai’s face, he sees nothing but sorrow.

“A spell? What’s this now?” Rai moves the kitten slowly, and his power has still not returned, so he is helpless. He is now facing the prince, so Rai can look directly at his face. Konoe cannot lie when he is meeting his prince’s gaze. The kitten doesn’t wish to see the grief he has caused!

“Ah—well, I didn’t just happen to learn about the essence of water,” the kitten admits, uncomfortably. “It was offered to me as a trade. And I need to pay my teacher for his lesson when I get home.”

“You need to pay him? Exactly what was the cost? Don’t you think that I might help take on your burdens if you will be serving me as my partner? Why don’t you let me help you?”

“Rai—this is a deal I worked out with him in advance,” the kitten won’t meet Rai’s gaze.

“A deal?” Rai is suspicious. “Did you make a deal with someone from the hidden realm, Konoe?”

The kitten’s ears droop sadly, knowing his secret is out. 

“We had a kind visitor to the inn, who knew my father—who loved my father—and he offered help. He couldn’t break the curse, but when he heard of my love for you, he said he would try to help me. He sent colleagues who could help me. Each taught me songs that would make me useful to you and your kingdom in exchange for something I can give them.” 

Rai looks at the kitten as the words tumble from his lips. He sees a desperate creature, willing to do anything to be with him. 

“I am already cursed, Rai. I can’t expect to be by your side as I am—a cursed cat—unless I prove myself, and honestly, I was afraid you might do something rash—like accept me as I was and give up your kingdom for my sake—and I don’t want that. I want to be worthy of your love. I want to be a Sanga worth the trouble. And once I am, then my stepfather will lift the curse, and things will be as they were. I just have to pay dearly for what I want. And it’s worth the cost to be with you.”

“But you don’t have to do all this for me! I will help you break the curse, Konoe. I don’t think you brought it on yourself—and even if you had, it doesn’t matter to me. You are the one I have chosen. Don’t you understand?”

Those words send a delightful shiver down the kitten’s body and bring a genuine smile to his face, but fresh tears show up in his eyes.

“I’m so glad to hear you say this, Your Grace, but the deals have already been made and I have already been taught the songs. Payment is due for my lessons, regardless of what happens next. And I’m afraid only I can pay. I will be all right,” he smiles bravely, despite the tears on his lashes.

“Konoe,” whispers Rai. “What can I do to help you?”

“Please, allow me to return tomorrow and show you my next song,” the kitten whispers.

“Of course. I’ll be waiting.”

The bells chime in the distance. It’s midnight—and Konoe realizes he has to go—but he has no power in his body.

“Oh—I have to go! Now!”

Rai leans down to the kitten, who is a bundle of nerves after hearing the first bell chime, and he kisses his soft lips—ever so gently. They are just as soft and plush as he expected them to be. Perfect. He’s been longing to do that for two months. Rai doesn’t want to wait till tomorrow to do that again.

“May I bring you somewhere?” Rai asks. “Don’t panic, you’ll be all right.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” another voice says. It’s Kaltz, who has appeared suddenly. “I will take care of him.”

Rai bristles when Kaltz approaches.

“What do you plan to do with him?” 

“I have no desire to hurt the child. I will return him to his home before his outfit returns to snow and ice, and then he will pay what he owes. All I ask for are his tears.”

When Kaltz puts his hands on the kitten’s body, the two suddenly disappear, surrounded by a blue flame.

Rai jumps up, growling and hissing—his Sanga—slipped through his fingers once again—and he is sure he was taken by a devil!

The prince rushes out into the forest, searching for him throughout the night—but finds no trace of his Sanga—returning only after the rise of the moon of light, exhausted and discouraged, his only hope that he will see his kitten the following evening. 

Kaltz teleports Konoe back to the wooded area outside the inn, and his body is starting to regain a little power—just enough to sit up. The devil leans him against the trunk of a tree and wraps a cape around his body.

Konoe realizes he is freezing—his teeth are chattering, his hair and fur are soaking wet. He realizes his clothing has disintegrated into snow and ice, melting off of his body in large chunks.

“What is this?” he asks, staring at Kaltz in disbelief.

“Your costume was made from water, ice, and snow, and it only lasts so long. I figured you’d want to be away from your prince once it started to melt.”

The devil has dropped his own cat costume, and his ears have reverted to their original black horns, and his hairless tail is whipping back and forth, still cat-like.

“My time in your world has come to a close, as well, I’m afraid. I hope you are satisfied with my end of the contract.”

“Yes, thank you,” Konoe shivers under the heavy cape as ice drips from his skin. He hopes he won’t have to give this cape back. He doesn’t want to be naked out here in the woods. Kaltz looks much younger without the cape, he thinks.

“I’m sorry about the chill. It can’t be helped. I’m afraid it’s time to collect my payment,” Kaltz crouches down before the shivering kitten, and now—for the first time—Konoe realizes he is dangerous. He is a devil. The kitten begins to shiver for reasons other than being cold.

“Now, now—that won’t do. Remember—I need your feelings of grief and sorrow. Child, will you close your eyes for a moment?” He puts his hands over the kitten’s eyes, encouraging him to close them. Konoe’s heart is in his mouth.

“Remember this evening. Put yourself back in the prince’s garden. How did you feel when Rai asked you to stay by his side this evening?”

“I was so happy—” the kitten begins, and then he stops his words suddenly.

“But you did not stay with him, did you? You couldn’t stay, could you? I want you to picture your lover’s face when you told him you could not stay tonight.” 

In an instant, grief and sadness overflow from the kitten’s heart, spilling into his chest and his body. He is immediately overwhelmed, and he realizes he is twitching his ears in response to some strange sounds—is it a wail? What is it? It takes a minute to realize that that mournful cry is actually coming from him. He is the one who is sobbing inconsolably. He is wailing.

The devil has his arms around the black kitten, and Konoe feels something soft on his face—is it the devil’s tongue? Kaltz is licking the tears from his face.

Konoe cannot console himself nor can he stop crying. He cannot get Rai’s broken-hearted expression out of his head—the fact that he himself was its cause—it’s devastating.

He loses track of time, but it’s possible he cries for fifteen minutes until he runs out of tears and breath. Finally, his breath evens out, and he has no tears left to cry. 

Kaltz breathes softly and says, “Thank you, child. That was probably very painful for you, but I sincerely hope it was worth being able to see your lover, even for that short period of time. It was the most delicious meal I’ve had in many years. Call on me anytime you need me, and I will help you.”

He kisses the tips of Konoe’s ears.

“I wish you the best with your prince. It’s clear he loves you. Goodbye, my child.”

He vanishes in a blue-colored flame, leaving Konoe naked except for the cape, shivering, soaking wet, cold and exhausted. He is very thirsty, too. 

He manages to haul himself up to his feet, and he stumbles back to the inn, where Bardo is finishing the dishes.

Bardo sees Konoe and panics. His raised voice actually gets the attention of the devils who have been waiting for his return in the dining room. 

“What the hell happened to you? Were you assaulted? Kitten! Are you injured?” 

“No, no,” Konoe chatters his teeth, but Bardo takes over immediately. He grabs the cape from Konoe and looks over his body carefully for wounds, stunned at the traces of ice and snowflakes on his skin, even still.

“We need to warm you up!” 

Konoe doesn’t like the scrutiny, of course, and is terribly embarrassed, though too cold and too weak to fight him.

Bardo gives him a little catnip liquor to warm him up from the inside while wrapping him into a warm towel, then starts to heat water for a small bath.

“That will take entirely too long,” Razel says, and he heats up the water by pointing a finger at it. Then, he aggressively strips the towel from the shivering kitten and carries him to the tub. “This may feel too hot at first, but it is necessary for your health.”

The water burns Konoe’s skin, and he screams when the water scorches him, but Razel holds him under just the same.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Bardo yells. “Don’t touch him—you’re burning him—don’t you realize that he’s been freezing, so that water will burn his skin!? He’s such a pale cat, and his skin is so delicate—”

“He will be fine. He is much stronger than you think and than you give him credit for,” Razel says, continuing to hold the struggling kitten in the steaming tub. “He only needs a moment to adjust. This is what is needed to get his body temperature back up. It is dangerously low! Do you want the devil of grief to freeze him to death?”

Within a minute or two, Konoe starts to relax, and the water starts to feel good, and he stops struggling. He even lets out a small sigh.

“Are you feeling better now, little one?” Razel murmurs, leaning over into the tub, still holding onto the smaller cat’s body. Razel’s hair is getting wet in the bath, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “As lovely as you looked, I didn’t like to see you so chilled. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure you’re in something warmer. It will suit you much better.”

Konoe feels a little shiver go through his body, and he realizes that he is surrounded by people—Razel, Froud, and Verg are watching him bathe—even Bardo is observing him carefully. He feels his face heating up, and it isn’t just from the temperature. 

“I-I-I’m just f-fine now, though I thank you for your concern, and for your help,” Konoe says, looking down in the water and bringing his soaking wet tail across his body to cover himself. He’s mortified.

“Aww, he’s so cute when he’s shy—how can a cursed kitty be so innocent?” Froud muses.

“It’s good for us to see what your body looks like, Chibi, so we can figure out how best to dress you—Kaltz did an amazing job, and we need to outdo him after all, of course,” Verg says, leaning against the bathtub. “Want me to scrub your back?”

“N-no, I’ll be fine,” Konoe says, almost quietly, and all three devils look up sharply at his response. It’s subdued and heartbroken—so sad, filled with grief.

“That’s enough from all of you. This kitten is in my care. Please, the kitchen is closed, though I thank you for your concern and your assistance, sir,” Bardo announces, nodding slightly at Razel. He promptly shoes them out the door and then heads back to the tub. 

Without asking, he starts gently shampooing Konoe’s hair, and to his surprise, the kitten doesn’t resist. Bardo isn’t disappointed, but he’s slightly concerned.

“Did something happen? You met the prince, didn’t you?” 

After a short pause, while Bardo rinses his hair—it still felt cold when he was shampooing it, so he takes his time and pushes the kitten underwater by his shoulders—he hears Konoe sigh.

“I did.”

“Did you sing for him?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t he recognize you?” 

“He did—right away.”

“Isn’t that good? So what happened?”

“He—” and the kitten’s breath hitches a moment before he continues. “He asked me to stay with him.”

“Well, that’s great, isn’t it?”

“No—because—” and a small sob escapes his throat, “I couldn’t stay with him. I have these contracts to fulfill.”

“Contracts?” Bardo asks. “I thought I told you I would be fine with it. What do you mean?” 

The tears are flowing freely now. “No—not with you. I mean—oh, I’m so sorry. I was so desperate—I am a cursed cat, and I thought I was doing what I could to get back to my prince! I accidentally summoned these demons to help me, and now—I owe them for the songs they’ve taught me.” 

“Demons? Konoe—”

“Kaltz said he only wanted my tears, but it was so much worse than I expected, Bardo! I am so scared of what the others have asked for, but they won’t return to their world unless I fulfill my contracts, so what else can I do?” 

“Konoe,” Bardo puts his hand on the kitten’s shoulder, but he has folded up on himself in the tub now, sobbing silently, whispering quietly to himself. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

“Kitten, it’s all right,” Bardo says.

“But what if I’ve worsened my curse? What if it’s because of my curse that they sought me out in the first place? Is this my curse? One demon won’t even tell me what I owe, and one claims I owe nothing—and those two frighten me most of all—what am I going to do? I’ve made such a mess of things!” 

Bardo pulls the kitten up out of the water and wraps him in a towel, drying him off, taking care to dry his hair and his fur. Bardo is afraid he is ill, or is in danger of catching a cold. 

“Stop this now,” Bardo whispers. “You are not alone. You have friends—powerful friends—Rai in the castle—and those like Tokino and me who are not so powerful but are still on your side. Let us help you.” 

He wraps the kitten up in a fleece robe, much too large for him, but he’s going right to bed anyway, so it’s all right. He carries him over to the bed and presses a mug into his hands. It’s sweet—milk and honey—just like his father used to make for him—but this has a little extra flavor. 

“I’ve added a little catnip to it to help you sleep,” Bardo whispers. “It should calm you, soothe you, relax you. Just sleep till you wake tomorrow. Don’t worry about the chores, okay? You need to rest.”

He has grabbed a brush and is doing his second favorite thing of the evening—brushing out that luscious black fur on Konoe’s tail, ears, and his hair till it shines. Plus, it should be completely dry before he goes to sleep, and Bardo grooms him lightly to help.

Soon, the kitten has finished his tasty drink—warm and toasty, he curls up in bed, and he feels sleepy. He’s stopped his tears, and Bardo lies down behind him to begin his favorite task, grooming his ears.

This is what a parent would do, he thinks. Probably one of the last times he will be able to do this for Konoe, Bardo carefully grooms the oversized ears, which now relax under the touch of his rough tongue. He recalls when the kitten first arrived, the ears would flick down and twitch away—so unused to a gentle touch. But he kept it up each night, and it took less than a week, maybe only three days until he was rewarded with an exhausted but very loud (and satisfying) purr from this small cat—surprisingly loud from a cat this size, much like his ears, in fact.

He remembers doing the same thing for the white kitten—who was much younger—perhaps only five—when he came into his care. He groomed him every night as well, and he would submit to him and be still though he refused to relax—and he held out for nearly two weeks before Bardo heard a gentle and quiet purr from that fluffy little guy. He had been so abused by his parents he couldn’t trust that anyone meant to be kind to him.

It takes a while to induce Konoe’s purr this evening, but Bardo keeps grooming until he hears it. He won’t waste any of the time he has let with this kitten.

Once he is asleep, he curls his large body up behind the smaller cat to keep him warm and safe. Poor little guy. He’s clearly bitten off more than he can chew. What can I do to help?