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Komurasaki was over.
Really, Orochi was over, but he took every opportunity to be seen with her, and a visit to Onigaishima was one such opportunity.
Yamato, as always, sat as close as possible to her performance. In his earlier years Kaido tried to curb his embarrassing nosiness, but when he realized it bothered Orochi, he let it slide, something like a prank against his colleague. Tonight Yamato sat in dog form, with his snout between his wrists, gazing up at the oiran as if she’d caught the moon. His tail swished behind him, keeping everyone else at a respectful distance like the world’s least intentional guard dog.
She finished one song, and the gathered crowd, Kaido, Orochi, King, Queen, and half the Tobi Roppo clapped respectfully. Yamato’s tail thumped harder.
Komurasaki’s blank mask scanned the crowd, and Yamato’s tail stilled. He pressed closer and everyone else hushed. His tongue flicked out to lap at the seam between her skin and her mask, and Queen laughed.
“Yamato,” Kaido hissed, but the oiran could handle herself, and she pinched his snout and pressed him backwards.
She raised her shamisen. “One more?” And the crowd cheered.
***
Kaido seized Yamato by the ruff as soon as he could. “What were you thinking?”
He growled, gnashing his teeth. Kaido of course was unphased by this. “You’re not coming to the next concert if this is how you behave.”
“Yamato, my savior, come here.” They both turned to look at Komurasaki, who had escaped from Orochi’s side, layers swishing at her sides. Kaido lowered him to her. “He noticed my makeup running, and couldn’t have the others seeing me so unsightly.”
“You would rather have dog slobber on you?” Queen jeered.
“He’s a very clean dog, is he not?” Yamato snorted in agreement.
“As long as you’re not upset about it, we can put this behind us.”
“Might he spend the night in my room? It’s sweltering, and he gives off a nice breeze.”
That finally cracked a smile on Kaido’s face. “Air conditioning for the oiran. Sure, just don’t listen to anything he says.”
“He doesn’t seem to be in a talking mood today.”
They walked away to Kaido muttering something about little girls and fuzzy things, before he barked at King to escort her up to her room.
***
Yamato rested on Hiyori’s futon, cooling off the sheets and shedding something awful, as she showered. She came out without so much as a towel around her waist, sitting down in the curve of his belly and lying back on him.
“You did great today,” he piped up, the first thing he’d said all day.
“There you are, Yamato.”
“You can call me Oden, you know.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
A few moments of silence, Komurasaki just breathing and taking in the paintings on the wall screens. “These aren’t from the old Kozuki palace, are they?” She asked quietly.
“I don’t think so; Kaido didn't save anything from the fire. Maybe it’s the same artist?”
“Maybe.”
Yamato looked over his shoulder. She’s so tiny, so pale, still dripping from the shower but she radiated power even now. Her natural scent was always masked by thirty seven perfumes and soaps, but now he could almost smell it, something warm and clear like a pond on a summer day buzzing with damselflies. “Why were you crying during your concert?”
She met his gaze. She looked tired. “Haven’t you ever been brought to tears by a piece of music? In fact, I know you have.”
“You smelled so in pain. Are you hurt somewhere?”
She shook her head. “Get your nose checked, dog.”
He sniffed the air. “Calibrating…." He could still smell the pain on her, but rather than comment, he said, "you have red bean pancakes in your bag.”
“Not broken enough to not smell the treats, I see.” She pushed herself up to fetch her purse. “A street vendor in the Flower Capital gifted me these. It happens all the time; I can’t get them to stop.”
“I wish they’d do that for me!”
“I bet they would, if you went.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t leave.”
“Yamato, up.”
His eyes snapped back into focus, and he saw the pancakes in her hands. He started drooling.
“Up,” she repeated, holding the pancake over his head. He jumped for it, but she pulled it away. Then she threw it. Yamato caught it midair, snapping his jaws noisily until it was gone.
“Some appetite on you.”
“Have you seen me?” He smiled, licking the drool off his chops.
Komurasaki bowed her head, laughing quietly to herself. “Sit, boy.”
He sat, tail wagging wildly. She didn’t even come up to his shoulder.
“Jump.” She threw the pancake straight up, and he jumped in an arc over her head. He landed with a tremendous clatter.
She turned and held up the last pancake. It was enormous, the size of her face, and branded with the shape of the great tree over the Flower Capital. On second thought, she took a bite. It wasn’t the best she’d had.
“Sit.”
He did.
“Lie down.”
He took the same pose as he did at the concert, staring up at her. His eyebrows followed his pupils, adorable.
“Roll over.”
He did and gravity pulled his jowls into an enormous smile. His back legs kicked, trying to keep him in her desired position.
“Gentle,” she warned, and held the treat near his mouth. His jaw was nearly as long as her torso, but she couldn’t be less afraid as she lowered the pancake to him and he snapped it up.
Before he could flip back over she kneeled at his side and buried her hands in his fur. She cooed, against her will, and rubbed his belly like she was a toddler and he was the family pet.
Yamato giggled and kicked his feet more. He ended up rolling over onto her, eliciting overjoyed giggled from the both of them. She smacked his side and he shrunk to his half beast form, giving her enough freedom to escape.
“Thank you for the food.”
“I’ll try to bring some more, next time.”
“You’re a lifesaver. Not! Not like I get hungry. I’m a samurai after all.”
Komurasaki stood up. Yamato looked up at her, searching her no-longer-smiling face. “The pain smell is back, did I do something?”
“No, Yamato. Is that Oden’s symbol on your shirt?”
“Huh? Oh yeah.”
“Take it off.”
His brows furrowed. “Why?”
She pursed her lips together, face growing red. Her fingers twitched, and Yamato wondered if she was looking for her mask. “No son of Kaido should be wearing Oden’s symbol,” she said carefully.
He looked—for lack of a better word—like a kicked puppy. He did start taking it off though. “Did you really hate him?”
“I was too young to remember him.” Something bitter simmered in her voice. “But your father killed him. Isn’t you wearing that like wearing a trophy?”
“I don’t think of it like that. I didn’t realize it came off like that.”
“How did you think it came off?”
He had no such trouble speaking. “Komurasaki, he’s the reason I’m alive. I live to try to be like him, I live in the hope that I’ll get to escape this place and get to travel like him. I just—I want to feel close to him.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and in a stomach-turning moment, he reminded her of herself.
“Why Oden?”
He tilted his head up, face flushed under the fur, eyes near tears. “Who else is there?”
Komurasaki breathed. The temptation to grab his horns and pull his nose into her knee was overwhelming; the fear that he was tricking her even more so. But something about Yamato seemed to be incapable of lying. She had been lying for years, and she felt like she could smell it on a person as easily as Yamato seemed to be able to smell her stress. She headed back to the bathroom.
“Do you want me to leave?” Yamato called.
“No. We’ve had a misunderstanding; that’s no need to send you away.”
“Can I put my shirt back on?”
“No.”
When she came back, smell once again masked with products, Yamato was back to dog mode, outside on the balcony. She settled between her sheets and whistled. His ears perked up, and she laughed.
***
Yamato woke up to a warm spot in the sheets where Komurasaki had been. He had gone back to human at some point, and the air was muggy in the dog’s absence. He looked around—Skull Dome wasn’t the best place for someone with no powers to be wandering around, especially not someone as sought-after as Komurasaki.
He found her moon bathing on the balcony, wrapped in…in his shirt. Even in the blue of the near-morning, those were unmistakably the purple swirls of his top. His Oden top. He shifted to dog form, and the smell of her sorrow flattened him. He looked around for her mask, picked it up as gently as possible and took it to her. She fastened it on her face and he licked the tears off her chin.