42: Bitterly Authentic

"Ume!" Sanemaru bursts into Tsukiyomi's bedroom after locating his human friend and fellow servant, Umeko (oo-meh-co), sitting on stone steps to the large, platform bed.

"I've been searching for you everywhere. It's still a while before dawn; you should be sleeping." He treads the bare floor with concern, watching how the girl slumps against one of the bed's legs and her calves fall down the three, short steps.

"...Why're you even in here?..."

"Sane (sah-nay)...things are bad..." She whispers as an answer to his question, her gaze on the steps between her knees. Umeko's white, wrap-tie nightgown is wrinkled with black, matted hair stuck to parts of her sweat and tear-stained, brown cheeks.

Upon further inspection, he finds bloodshot eyes, puffy lids, and dry lips.

"What's wrong?" The muscularly thick, olive complexion yokai with storm gray eyes plops down beside her in his black, servant robe and trousers. He wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a hug.

She welcomes his tender warmth and earthy musk, tightening her grip on the soft fabric while burying her face in his hard chest.

Tears falling free, "I don't think Lord Tsukiyomi has a lot of time before he's completely gone... And the dragon is manipulating Mizuki (me-zoo-key). She really might turn her back on you both. And he promised me a horrible, awful, scary death if I stay here..." She sobs harder, wiping her tears and snot on his top while his free hand hovers over her head.

"I know I should leave so I don't get killed, but I don't want to leave you or Tsukiyomi behind," she wraps her arms around his waist, his hand awkwardly patting the top of her head as she cries and gasps between wails to catch her breath.

"It's not like I can just act like you all don't exist if I run away… And honestly, how could anyone run from a guy like that? I'm even more afraid of the idea of looking over my shoulder hiding from him for the rest of my life…" She whimpers, sucking up snot as her tears slow down.

"There, there," his gruff voice whispers, his body shifting under hers as though the contact makes him uncomfortable.

"No! You don't understand!" Umeko screams, shaking his clothes, "I don't want to leave! The gods showed me favor. ME! I lost -everything-. EVERYONE -else- DIED! Tsukiyomi is the -only- reason I'm not dead-- or worse!"

Sanemaru speaks with a confident reassurance, caressing her upper back, "Umeko, you shouldn't despair over Tsukiyomi-sama. I've known him longer than anyone here and he'll never stop fighting. He's a determined, powerful god who wants what's best for everyone. There's no way a stud like that'll lose. So, don't worry."

They lock eyes and his voice grows warm and soft, "now, let's go." He brushes his nose against hers, "sleep, eat, dress, then be escorted to your village—no excuses."

Rocking her gently, speaking to her in a quieting whisper, "the change of scenery'll be good for you..."

He pauses, pursing his lips to the side and speaking as compassionately as he can muster, "even if it's just a, y'know, massive grave..."

Being inconsolable, she cries herself to sleep in his arms where they sit on the stairs below Tsukiyomi's bed. Scooping her up bridal style without waking her, he carries her out into the hall.

Bare feet with black nails cross the smooth cobblestone of the grand hall before reaching the teal carpet runner with a luminescent scale pattern. The humanoid, horse yokai stares at Umeko's face with storm gray eyes, frowning when she whines and shifts in her sleep.

The light from candles and illuminated stained glass windows flicker around them, painting and casting their shadows in multiple directions.

He enters her private chamber, the last door on the right, and tucks her into bed. After leaving her under the dim lantern light of her room, he makes his way through the massive wooden, dragon's head door leading to the upper level.

Sanemaru dashes up the interior stone tower stairs with super-human speed.

Following the sounds of a woman crying quietly, he carefully slides open the tearoom's rice paper door and shuts it behind him.

Mizuki, the violet eyed bear yokai, shifts in her porcelain seat, turning her back to the tall and bulky steed.

Swiftly patting her tears with her purple, wrap-tie dress sleeve, she opens her handheld fan and covers her face from the nose down.

The room has a low-rise, black table large enough to fit twelve people and teal, plush floor cushions spaced evenly apart. Towards the back of the room is a small, round table with two matching stools.

Painted with colorful flowers in bloom on a black background in front of a window view, Tsukiyomi's magical garden enchants any that rests inside. Sanemaru crosses the room and places his hand on her shoulder.

Jerking her shoulder from under his touch, "why are -you- here?" She asks coldly, fanning her eyes with her foldable, wooden fan.

"I was worried... I heard you crying and--."

She turns to glare at him with glowing, violet eyes, Sanemaru shutting himself up.

"You, demon who favors the human and befriends the god, are worried about me?" Skeptically, she stands and pushes her friend into a backward step with her index finger in the center of his chest.

"You should get your priorities straight before concerning yourself with mine. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you, Sanemaru," she closes her fan and pokes his chest with it repeatedly.

"My trust in you became the trust in that -thing- who looks down on us. I regret my service and refuse to let the others find out about Tsukiyomi's affliction by aiding the wrong master," she turns her back to him and sniffles, her peachy complexion reddening.

"I will ally myself with my true lord," she faces him again after composing herself with gritted teeth and flickering, red eyes.

Seething into a transforming muzzle, "either you're with me, or against me."

"Mizu, I don't understand. You don't even sound like yourself right now." Sanemaru holds his hands up in defensive questioning, "you'd choose that maniac over--Tsukiyomi-sama is our friend!"

Sanemaru attempts a voice of reason, "he doesn't look down on us and he treats us very well despite our differences. He saved your life, remember that? Doesn't that count for anything?" He reaches to cup her arm and she punches him away.

Mizuki keeps her head down and pushes him back.

"You are choosing Tsukiyomi over what you and I have? We're his servants, not his friends. Why should I spend the rest of my immortal life in his debt because he saved my life?" She throws her hands up and walks to the garden window, staring out into the dark sky before dawn.

"I told him I wanted to -die- that day. Why would I want to live for eternity as a demon slave after everything I've been through?" She turns sharply, "I for damn sure will never be a servant to any man for a millennia when I could be an empress instead."

Sanemaru scratches the back of his head, listening quietly while trying to make sense of everything she is laying on him.

"Tsukiyomi doesn't want to stay here with us. You know that, right? What do you think happens to us when he ascends? He made it -very- clear that we are at the bottom of his list when it comes to social preference the moment he brought that ningen here." She clenches her jaw and swallows hard.

"She sleeps in comfort, in a private room, after day one! And for what?! We've slept in the servant's quarters for decades— though he calls us 'friend'!" She spits at the word friend, brushing past Sanemaru.

Their arms collide when she mutters under her breath loud enough for him to hear.

"If you choose that bitch over me, I promise you'll suffer alongside her."

She wipes the last tear from her pink cheeks and covers the lower half of her face with her fan.

Speaking as she walks to the door, "stick with your own kind, Sane. It's a fool's dream to believe a god could ever love a demon."

"...Love?..." He whispers quietly after her back disappears through the open door into a dimly lit hall. Plopping down on the porcelain stool with his elbow on the table, he rests his cheek on his fist.