Toshio's Perspective
The front door gave its usual soft squeak as I stepped into my house, shutting the night air out behind me. The walk back from the Gremory manor had been quiet enough for me to start feeling the weight of exhaustion in my shoulders, but inside the house it was different. The air carried a softer, lived-in stillness, broken only by the quiet rustle of fur against fabric as a small body shifted on the couch.
Kuroka stirred and padded toward me as I stepped inside, her small body slipping off the couch to meet me at the door. She paused when she saw me, bruised and bloodied, and I caught a fleeting glimmer in her eyes—worry, I guessed. When she reached me, I bent to stroke her fur, running a hand over her head and down her neck.
"Hey, Ku-chan." She stiffened slightly at the nickname, a subtle pause and a slight widening of her feline eyes.
"You like your new name?" I asked. I knew who she really was, but she didn't know that. Dropping a subtle hint here and there seemed like fun too. Her ears flicked once, then she leaned into my palm, purring softly as my fingers scratched down her neck.
"I'll take that as a yes," I murmured with the ghost of a smile.
She followed me into the kitchen, watching as I pulled together something quick—bread toasted crisp, eggs fried until the edges browned. I was starving after all of that. It wasn't much, but enough to fill the empty space in my stomach.
I split off a bit of fish from the fridge, setting it on a plate for her. She ate with the sharp eagerness of someone who had been waiting, and together we shared the quiet meal. After, I had to get a shower.
Hot water sluiced away blood, dirt, and grime, the lingering stink of combat vanishing down the drain. My muscles loosened beneath the spray, though my mind stayed taut. Ghom's face, if that stitched horror could be called a face, still lingered.
Koneko's small body in the aftermath, battered but alive. Shinjūka, burning in my hands. And me, unshackled in a way I had never thought possible. Shikai had pulled something raw out of me. Emotion so sharp and alive it felt like my soul had burst free of its cage. I wanted to see her again.
When I finally stretched out on the bed, the sheets cool against my back, the house felt too quiet. The memories pressed in. My hand drifted to the hilt of the sword leaning nearby, the blade wrapped and silent, yet calling to me all the same.
I sat up, moved to the yoga mat on the floor, and set Shinjūka gently across my lap. Closing my eyes, I slowed my breathing. Jinzen.
The tug came almost instantly, as if some unseen thread had been waiting for me to grasp it. The world blurred, shifted, and I sank.
The Sunken Sanctuary stretched out beneath me. It was no longer half-submerged ruins. The temple was completely drowned now, pillars vanishing beneath glass-clear water that shimmered with faint reflections. Cherry blossoms floated on the surface, drifting across the mirrored expanse. In the distance, standing at a small floating altar, was her.
Shinjūka.
Her back was turned. Long crimson hair with ethereal flame spilled in cascading waves down to her lower waist, the ends slowly drifting in flame of crimson, violet, and faint blue wisps, never still but flowing slowly like a living fire.
The glow illuminated the elegant curves of her form: broad hips, her rear huge and callipygian, a narrow waist, and shoulders held with quiet poise. Beneath the shifting veil of hair, I caught the intricate sigil etched across the smooth expanse of her back, glowing as though carved from light itself. It was the same design inscribed into the courtyard stone, but here it pulsed as if alive, each line burning with memory and meaning.
She was wearing a low cut, pale violet kimono patterned with small pink globe amaranth flowers and thin green stems. The neckline was loose, hanging off her shoulders, and tied at the waist with a wide dark crimson sash.
The kimono was very short, the length only going to her upper thigh which revealed the very bottom part of her butt. From behind, the garment framed the curve of her figure while allowing the radiant sigil on her back to shine through.
Even from behind, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
I tried to speak, but her presence alone seemed to compress time, force words back down my throat. I took a step, then another, the water beneath my feet shimmering but never splashing. If she noticed my approach, she didn't acknowledge it until I finally found my voice, the name escaping like a plea: "Shinjūka."
She didn't turn at first, but the air shifted. The flames at the end of her hair flared with sudden life, and I saw her body shiver, either from the sound of my voice or the effort of keeping herself composed. When she did finally look back, it was over her left shoulder. Her side profile and piercing, glowing eyes caused my breath to hitch.
She then turned slowly to face me, and the sight struck me harder than any blade.
Tears streamed down her face, glowing faintly as they fell and rippled the water at her feet. Unrestrained joy radiated from her smile and eyes.
I didn't think. Didn't analyze, nor hesitate. In a heartbeat I was there, a flash of runic shunpo closing the distance between us. My arms wrapped around her without conscious thought, pulling her tightly against me before either of us could say a word.
Emotion tore through my chest, raw and bright, so overwhelming I almost wanted to push her away just to make it stop. Instead, I held her tighter, my own tears pricking at my eyes. For the first time I could remember, I didn't try to fight or logic through them whatsoever.
Her hair of flame brushed my hands behind her back, yet it didn't burn. It felt like fire that belonged to me.
"Oh, how I've longed for this," she whispered, voice trembling, "for you to remember."
The warmth that filled me was overwhelming, more than comfort, more than relief. It was love. Pure and unyielding.
After what seemed like a long time, I pulled back enough to look at her, at the smile that transformed her once obscured face into something tender and loving. Her eyes looked like they contained the same nebula I once hovered over.
"Why did you come?" she asked, voice a trembling thread.
The question caught me off guard. My first instinct was to deflect or provide logical answers. Instead, I answered honestly.
"I wanted, no needed to see you," I said, surprised by my own honesty. "After today, after what happened… I couldn't stop thinking about you. About us." Her mouth twitched at the word "us."
Her smile widened, illuminating her entire face. "You needed to see me," she repeated, savoring each word like they were precious gems. "After all this time, you finally need me."
Her touch felt like fire and ice simultaneously, sending shivers through my body. I couldn't look away from her eyes, those swirling galaxies of crimson and violet that seemed to hold centuries of emotion.
I nodded, my hands still resting on her lower back, keeping her tight against me. "When I entered Shikai, I felt…everything. Like a dam broke inside me." I paused, searching for words. "It was terrifying, but also... freeing."
She reached up, her fingers tracing the contour of my jaw with feather-light precision. "That's what I've been hoping you'd come to understand. Emotions aren't weaknesses to be controlled or suppressed. They're fuel. Power. Life." Her touch sent ripples of warmth through my skin.
"You've been half-alive for so long…" Her voice was laced with sorrow.
"I know now. I kept you locked away, like a thing, a tool, and unnecessary burden. But you're not. You're…"
Her hands pressed gently against my cheeks, and she smiled—a real, unguarded smile, wider than I'd ever seen her wear thus far.
"I am both your soul, and not your soul," she finished for me. "Born in deprivation, I manifested into being. We are are separate, but we are one. Your soul. Our soul.
"Yeah," I choked out, the word nearly lost to the tide of emotion. "Our soul."
Something inside her changed. The light in her eyes deepened, and for a split second, I saw the entire universe reflected there—every sadness, every hope, every moment we'd ever shared, even the ones I couldn't remember, even the ones I unknowingly repressed.
The ripples on the water stilled, the petals drifted in perfect circles, and for the first time since I'd arrived in this world, I realized I wasn't ever going to be alone.
I began to think back. I wanted to ask about the times I had nearly died before—whether it had been her hand saving me—but the answer was clear now. Of course it had been her.
"Thank you," I said hoarsely, voice breaking. "For saving my life. Twice. Even when I denied you. Even when I treated you so terribly."
She shook her head, her smile deepening as she cupped my cheeks in both hands. "I'd do anything for you, Toshio. I'll always be here for you. Especially now." Her voice was soft and musical, each word stitching a soul-bound wound I never knew was even there.
Then she leaned in, gently guiding my face toward hers, and pressed her lips to mine.
My eyes widened, then fell closed as her warmth consumed me. It wasn't a kiss, not in the way I'd ever experienced. My world had shattered on contact. Every defense, every sharp edge and clever line, every scrap of emotional insulation I'd ever built up, just dissolved in that instant.
Her hair ignited into a bright corona, flames bursting outward to illuminate the drowned temple. The continuous ripples of the water at our feet stilled completely.
I felt her—felt myself—like a charge running through nerve and spirit alike. For an infinite second, I was whole. I didn't analyze nor process, didn't try to make sense of the feeling. I just let it consume me, the raw, bright completeness of the piece of myself that returned at last.
When she finally drew back, the glow faded. The ripples returned, cherry blossom petals circling around our feet. The emptiness that followed gutted me. It was like losing part of myself all over again.
"Is… is this how I always felt before?" I asked, voice trembling with the effort to hold on to the sensation even as it faded from my lips.
She nodded softly, sorrow and love mingled in her gaze.
"I never want to leave, then," I declared, the honesty of it catching me off guard. For so long I'd lived in detachment and logic, but this… this was a freedom of being I'd never understood, and now desperately wanted to keep.
She laughed, gentle and musical, brushing her hand against my face. "You must. Live as your mother wished you to. If you want to feel that again—all the time—bring our resonance to one hundred percent."
"How?" I asked. But I already knew the answer.
She grinned, the playfulness in her eyes a spark I hadn't seen before. "You'll have to figure that out," she said, drawing a finger down the bridge of my nose. "By living. By being you—all of you, not just the parts you think are useful or that make sense."
I groaned, but found myself smiling anyway. "I knew you were going to say that."
I let the quiet hang for a heartbeat and before I asked, "Back there, you told me to bring our resonance to one hundred percent. Soul Resonance. The system… how much do you actually know?"
Her lips curved. "Everything. The Goddess told me, technically," she tapped my chest lightly, "We share the same soul after all."
"I probably should have known that," I muttered, embarrassment creeping across my face. "All those years of reading and analyzing, and yet I still miss the obvious."
She tilted her head, playfully feigning severity. "Still, for someone who wants answers, you kept me stuffed in your inventory an awful lot at the start. That was cruel."
Heat touched my ears. "Yeah... I was too caught up in the intellectuality of the situation, especially at first." I rubbed the back of my neck and let out a breath. "Yeah… I was an idiot, huh."
"You were," she giggled, but the sound carried forgiveness.
"I'm sorry, Shinjūka." I hoped my eyes helped convey my heartfelt apology. She smiled.
"You've already been forgiven." Her hand traced the side of my face fondly.
I looked at her, really looked, and let the words come without overthinking. "Why do I deserve you? You forgave me so easily, saved my life twice, gave me power, and—" I hesitated, breath catching. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I don't even mean just your body, though that's… spectacular." My eyes betrayed me as I glanced at her very revealing cleavage. "I mean your presence. Your spirit."
Her smile softened, her nebulae eyes shimmering. "Because you locked away the most beautiful parts of yourself," she said simply. "I am only what you refuse to be."
"Shinjūka, I swear to you that I'll never abandon you again," I stated firmly with resolve. Her smile broadened.
She beamed, radiant and unguarded. "Then don't do something stupid like suppressing your emotions when they want to come out," she replied, her voice teasing but her eyes deadly serious.
"Plus..." her face grew more serious.
She stepped back from me, gesturing to the water. "The more you repress yourself, the lower the water will go. I detest deserts. Don't make me live in one again."
I nodded firmly. "I won't."
Silence stretched before I finally asked the question that had been burning in me for awhile now. "I do have a question..." she tilted her head in curiosity. "Do you… have a sword style to teach me?"
She burst out laughing, her whole body shaking.
"Nope!" she managed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Why would I? I was born from your soul. I only have what you give me."
I deadpanned, feeling stupid. "So I really do have to find a master, huh?"
She nodded, her expression turning sly. "Or become one. Either way, the journey is yours."
Disappointment. Why had I thought so strongly that she would?
"I knew that question was coming sooner or later. You thought about it almost every time you sparred with Kiba," she continued, giggling along the way. I sighed.
"Moving on…"
Quickly shedding off the feeling, I pulled her close again anyway, burying my face against her chest. She was quite a bit taller than me, so my head rested comfortably on her almost bare breasts.
Best pillow ever.
Boldness stirred in me, I tilted my chin up to kiss her. I craved that feeling of completeness again. But her finger pressed to my lips, stopping me. Her smile was playful, her eyes mischievous.
"You'll have to earn that."
I blinked, then actually pouted. She lost it, laughter rolling through the temple like a summer storm. It was infectious, and I found myself joining her, caught in the joy of being myself with her for the first time.
I steadied myself, determination replacing embarrassment. "Fine. I'll earn it. I'll get us to one hundred percent."
Her laughter softened into a smile. "It won't be as easy as you think. But… if you let yourself go, if you follow your desires, it will come faster."
Desire. I thought of her. Of wanting her. But the truth hit me deeper. It wasn't her body I longed for, but the completeness she gave me. The wholeness of myself.
"Can we train together with Shikai?" I asked, still holding her in my arms.
"Yes," she said, tilting her head. "But training here will make the emotional part too easy; it won't translate into much progress in the real world. We can still spar here, and we can run Shikai fusion combos together, but you'll need to fight outside to truly learn. Still… if you wish to spend time with me, I would like that."
"I'd like that too."
"Now, you should rest. You've had a long day." She kissed the top of my head, giving me a brief flicker of what I felt earlier.
I tightened my embrace, burying the side of my face in her cleavage, clinging to her warmth, reluctant to let go. But then the world began to fade.
Her whisper followed me as the world shifted back to reality.
"I love you, Scotty."