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A Little Game

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A Little Game

Authors Foreword: Demon City Shinjuku was fairly well known around 1990 but if you never saw or just need a refresher it's easy enough to find on Youtube, I recommend the remastered version, setting takes place about 30 minutes or so in, and hey, you can even see Demon Lady naked around the 45 minute mark!

The interior of the crypt-like subway station lay completely dark except for just one platform in the blackened ruin. The great earthquake had completely knocked out power here, but there was a blood red glow all the same from the pulsing runes that covered the dank platform floor. In the center a pentagram lay inside another pentagram, spiraling out into a huge mystic circle, etched with unspeakable blasphemies in an alien language. Inside this was Rebi Ra, the being responsible for the destruction of the surrounding city, levitating on his back roughly four feet off the ground. To the casual observer, aside from his grim, unforgiving countenance, he seemed to be asleep. His eyes were closed as he concentrated, gathering power for throwing open the gate to the demon world, and from it would come endless hell spawn to conquer this wretched world. Suddenly, he felt a disturbance in the aether as one of his servants was torn from this world. Like a stone cast into a spider's web it jarred him and his eyes opened wide, staring up into the ruined ceiling.

“Who threatens me? An aura hovers over me, disturbing my sleep!” His voice boomed throughout the seemingly empty subway station. “The resurrection is only three days away. Eliminate this threat!” He commanded.

“It will be done.” A husky, sultry voice said, from everywhere, and no where.

“Let me be the one to do your bidding!” Another voice echoed back, ancient and corrupt.

“A shriveled hag like you should be getting her bed rest.” The first voice chuckled without humor, and there was an angry growl in response from the air.

“Enough!” Commanded Rebi Ra, his voice cutting across the two demonesses like a knife. “Do as I order, and do not fail.”

“As you say.”

A single shadow detached itself from it's fellows cast about the walls to slide across the floor. It slithered up concrete steps like a black eel out into the desolate ruins of Shinjuku. Across cracked streets it went, then through a half sunken skyscraper that was once Songpo Inc headquarters. The building leaned at a lunatic angle against Yashibitsu Motors for support, the only thing keeping it from collapsing completely. Now the shadow flowed out a broken window, washing down the side of the blasted high rise as quick and smooth as rain water. In less than a minute it had cleared twenty stories and reached the darkened streets below. The shadow began to head east, where she sensed her brother had perished.  She was Rebi-Ra's bound servant, her true name unpronounceable by human tongues, and she would kill whoever this upstart was. Not just because of her orders, but because it might also alleviate her eternal boredom.

Cars rotted on the side of the road amid the ever present fog, the stars and even the moon hidden far above a poisonous dark purple haze. Half the street lights still worked, casting their pale nimbus and giving the illusion of life to the shell of city. The streets were deserted as she made her way, the only onlookers to her passage a pair of skeletons holding eachother in a last embrace on a bus bench. A stray dog was gnawing hungrily at one of the legs, trying to pull it off and the shadow chuckled dryly.

Several blocks farther, she went down into the subway again and began to pick up the scent. Two boys, a girl. A dog, but the scent of death told her she wouldn't need to worry about that one. Also, ozone smell of electricity, explosive residue, and traces of Ninpo energy. This last was like inhaling tear gas to the demoness, and she gagged slightly. Too many smells, it would take some tracking to tell which way they'd gone. Just then she heard nasty laughter and the shadow paused. Smells of sweat and filth and blood.

"Did it move?"

"Nah, it's dead for sure. What a stink! Smells like someone ate too much Natto, took a shit, then fried it again. Looks like it too."

“I told you! That's the monster that ate Hideki!”

“Yeah, poor Hideki, poor us. What we supposed to do now?” Curious, the shadow slunk along the floor until she could see the source of the voices. A man with wild hair and piercings in his face, and the other a great greasy fat one with a thick chain wrapped around his neck. From the look and smell the kind of street punk human trash that still lived in Shinjuku. They were poking at roasted chunks that the shadow recognized as the remains of the other servant.

“Well, I'm the biggest now so I guess I'm the boss!” The fat one said.

“Whatever. Still can't believe some punk with a wood sword did all this. Least he killed it for us, one less thing to worry about.”

“Shit, I was hoping they'd kill eachother.” The shadow smiled to herself, thinking of a way to save time for herself. She needed amusement too, she could look like any woman she pleased, but Rebi Ra was always too focused on his dark pact to be interested in her flesh. Rising from the floor, the shadow solidified into a well built woman with red hair.

“Excuse me.” The two punks turned, and their surprise turned to predatory leers at the sight of her. “I'm looking for the person who did that.” She pointed at the torn demonic remains.

“Well look what we have here.” The one with the hair strode up, licked a knife and smoothed his crazy, orange dyed spikes back. “We killed this monster. Impressed?”

“Really impressed.” She wore an easy smile, and her husky voice was preternaturally calm. “Except I heard you talking before. Someone with a wooden sword did this.”

“Well I have a sword for you baby.” The punk jeered, spinning the knife.

“And I have wood!” The fat one laughed, grabbing his crotch obscenely.

“Hmm.” Her lips pursed as the two punks flanked her, eyeing her body greedily. “Do you really want to get rough with me? I just want to know where this person went.”

“What do you want that stupid kid for? You've got two men right here. We'll protect you baby. Heh heh.” They were circling her like sharks, moving ever closer.

“Hey, Jiro, this must be our lucky day. I like her style way better than that other bitch who got away, she's got bigger tits too." The fat one laughed, as he swung his chain in circles.

"I'll tell you what baby, I'll tell you where they went. For a kiss.” Unshaven clumps of hair sprouted between the rolls of fat on his face. They were both as attractive as a case of leprosy, they'd need a bath to cleanup to hideous. The woman sighed.

“You're both so ugly though. Alright, one kiss, and then you tell me everything.”

“Yeah!” The fat one closed his eyes and stuck out his lips in a grotesque pucker. The woman grabbed his face on either side and pulled him toward her with a jerk. She smiled sensuously, and instead of a peck, she kissed him deeply. His eyes opened in surprise as she held the embrace, and the other punk whistled.

“I can't believe she's kissing someone like you open mouthed. What a slut! Hey, my turn next!” The fat punk was shuddering beneath her kiss. “Hey, I said my turn next! What-” He trailed off as he saw his friend's eyes bulge. He was shaking as if having a seizure, and his neck began to smoke. He took a step back as the flesh around the other punk's neck melted, then the head came off from the round body leaving a ragged bloody crater. The woman broke the kiss, and still wearing her cat like smile, she tossed the head at his feet like a ball. She then wiped her mouth and spat, acidic saliva sizzling on the floor. The punk screamed and turned to run, but something grabbed his feet and he tripped, slamming his face into the concrete. He closed his eyes as a thick tendril wrapped around his neck, wishing for it to end fast, but instead a finger brushed his cheek and he opened them.

The woman's arms had extended into featureless, flesh colored tentacles, and the “finger” that touched him was the tip of one. She rose, rearing up twelve feet like a snake, two long, perfect legs joined together again in a great tail she slithered on. The tentacle tightened around him and the beautiful face cooly savored his terror.

“Where?” She asked casually.

“Hey-hey I give up ok? Don't hurt me. You want that guy right? You can have him, I'm not with him, I hate that guy. He was with some girl and a kid. I heard Kabukicho. Maybe, they were looking to party.” He gave her a queasy grin. Her red lips drew closer to him and he tried to shrink away.

“What about you? You don't want a kiss anymore?”

“No, uh, no thanks.”

“But you said it before. It's your turn next. So if you don't want my kiss, how about a hug?” He gasped, his face beginning to turn purple and his eyes bulged as blood streamed from his nose, mouth, and ears. Her muscles coiled around him, squeezing him like a used up tube of toothpaste until bits of organ squirted out and finally the eyeballs erupted out of their sockets from the pressure. With a bored sigh she discarded the crushed, bloody remains and began to slither rapidly towards Kabukicho.

“Here it is!” The boy opened the door and Kyoya limped in after him, supported on Sayaka's slim shoulder. “So how is it?”

“It's...” Kyoya didn't know what to say. They hadn't been expecting much of the room. From what they'd seen of Shinjuku, he would have been happy just to have a pile of blankets without any rats nesting inside, but the room was stunning. It was larger and posher than anywhere he'd stayed before, bathed in dim cool blue light, with a coral motif on the walls. The plush bed was huge, shaped like a clam shell and lit by a pink light that evoked the shape of a pearl. Except for a few cracks in the walls from the quake, it was in perfect condition.

“What a wonderful room!” Sayaka was looking around with awe, after coming to Shinjuku it was the first flash of normalcy either of them had seen. “But we can't possibly afford-”

“Forget it.” The kid smirked, flipping her ring up in the air and catching it deftly. “It's change for selling me this.” He stopped at the door. “Well enjoy yourselves. Don't get her pregnant!” Kyoya's jaw dropped, but Sayaka didn't seem to understand at first. As the door shut, she blushed furiously.

“What a little punk!” Kyoya shouted after the door, then groaned.

“Easy now. Can you walk?”

“Yeah. I'm still banged up, but mostly just exhausted.” They lay on the bed together without undressing, Sayaka staring up at the ceiling, and Kyoya let out a low groan of pleasure as his spine thanked him for the opportunity to stretch. He was feeling better already, by morning he'd be fine. If he made it that long the dirty old man inside him thought. Before he'd felt like passing out, but now he was energized laying next to Sayaka. He'd thought she was cute since the first time he'd seen her on TV, and now they were in this room, in this situation together. Alone. Down boy, that's not why you came to Shinjuku he told himself...well, part of himself. He shifted, turning his back to her, as if sleep was all he really wanted. Which, bar Sayaka, was true. A few minutes ticked by quietly, but neither slept.

“I'm sorry for getting you involved in all this.” She finally said.

“Don't be, I made the choice to crash this party, I take responsibility.” He didn't turn, a bit nervous. He wasn't shy around girls, but he knew he was a lech and she was the Federation president's daughter. If they wound up doing anything he'd probably be deflowering her. “What do you think Rebi Ra is planning to do?”

“Soon he'll call demons through the void above the city. He'll try to summon them to this world, transforming it into a place they can comfortably exist. Hell on earth.”

“Ruled by creatures just like the one I killed.”

“It'll be horrible, we have to stop him.”

“We will.”

“But what can I do?” She asked. “I don't have your power. I said I was brave, but can that be enough?”

“You can't back out now, we've come this far Sayaka. Better start dealing with it.”

“You can do it though. Beat Ra, I know it.”

“You think so? I hope you're right. I think we've got two days anyway.” She was quiet, and he got nervous again in the heavy silence. They'd done nothing but run and fight since they'd come to Shinjuku, but she smelled good. That feminine smell only girls have and leave on their pillows.

“So your dad, the president...” He started, then laughed awkwardly when she didn't say anything. “I bet he'd have a fit if he could see the two of like” Still no answer and he turned, curious.

She'd already fallen asleep, hands folded primly over her belly. He took a moment to admire her in repose, the black, straight hair, porcelain features, the long lashes. Without thinking, his eyes slipped down the pink dress that made her look like a doll, to the swell of her chest as it rose and fell, then her bare, smooth calves. Grudgingly he tore his eyes away and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before rolling off the bed, laying down on the much more uncomfortable floor. It was no good, even with his back turned to her he couldn't sleep in the same bed as Sayaka. She was pure, refined, innocent and brave, and that only made him want her more. He hadn't been with a girl since highschool and he didn't trust himself not to try something, even in his sleep. You never just “took a nap” with a girl he reflected, closing his eyes and willing unconsciousness to come.

He groaned later, sitting up. He'd almost dropped off and then woke again. He didn't know how long it had been, maybe an hour or two. Kyoya's ears perked up when he heard a scratching at the door. He froze, straining his hearing, and then the scratching came again. It was light, like a cat clawing at the door. Probably all it was he thought, then he heard a soft female chuckle from the door. He sprang to his feet, glad to be off the floor, grabbed his bokken and quietly crept to the door. There was no sound, so he nudged it open, peeking out the crack, before opening it. There was nothing in the empty hall. No cat, no woman, no monster. No, but there was something he thought. Perfume wafted through the hall, some cheap brand that made Kyoya think of cherries and booze. He looked back to see Sayaka still sleeping soundly. He debated with himself about whether to leave her, but he really wasn't in a hurry to go back to that hard floor. Besides, they'd both be better off if he dealt with any danger without waking her. He had second thoughts as he closed and locked the door behind him, but figured if she'd gotten as far as she had without him, she'd be fine sleeping for a bit.

The halls of the hotel were deserted, which wasn't surprising this place or hour. He walked, tapping the bokken on his shoulder and following his nose. Once he passed a scrawny old man in a stained undershirt, a sawed off shotgun stuffed absurdly into his holster and the smoke from his cigarette puffing behind him like a locomotive, but other than that he had the halls to himself. He was still tired, but at least his legs were loosening up. The trail of perfume got stronger as it led him down darkened stairs. Kyoya tightened his grip on the bokken, ready for anything as he rounded the corner and saw...the hotel bar. A flickering neon sign advertising Sapporo beer and a few stubborn surviving fixtures cast a dim light haphazardly over the shadowy bar. One of the walls had caved into rubble, but other than that like the rest of the hotel it had survived the quake pretty well. It was just a bar he saw, relieved. Aside from the bartender cleaning glasses in the ragged remnants of his uniform, there was just one shape hunched over the bar.

It looked up and Kyoya saw the full head of auburn hair first, then the red lips pursed into a poised, languid smile. He didn't let his expression change, even without hearing her he knew this was the woman who'd passed his room. The not unpleasant cherry scent was coming from her. Her clothes were cheap and casual, a strip of bare stomach lay between the tight, navy blue long sleeve shirt and even tighter blue jeans. Tight everything he thought, noting the plunging neckline and imprint of her breasts suffocating against their confines. He wasn't trying to look at her cleavage on purpose, but there they were, the tops round and perfect at this angle. She wore heavy lashes and eyeliner over narrow, sleepy eyes that reminded him of a snake somehow. Her hair was teased into great billowy tresses that hung low over those eyes, dyed an auburn almost as red as the sinful ruby lipstick she wore. Her smile didn't falter even as he flinched when he realized she'd caught him looking, and she half turned on her stool to face him.

“On the house.” The bartender poured her a whiskey on the rocks.

“Thank you handsome.” The woman said, never taking her eyes off Kyoya. She offered him the glass. “Thirsty?” Her voice was sultry and completely laid back, completely suited for a phone sex operator. Not sure what to make of her, Kyoya returned her laid back smile with one of his own, he had the whole, easy stoic look down to an art form.

“I'm trying to keep a clear head.”

“Well. It goes straight to mine too. Here you go.” She passed the glass back with a finger and Kyoya saw her nails were also painted red. He could see the bartender choking back disappointment, having his little pass at the gorgeous woman shot down so cruelly. He gave Kyoya a barely concealed look of jealousy, like an alley cat whose territory he'd invaded, then favored the woman again with a phony service smile.

“Can I get you two anything?”

“Water.” Kyoya said.

“I wouldn't say no to some cigarettes.” She patted the stool next to her. What the hell am I doing here Kyoya thought, he didn't have time for this. Then he thought of the hard floor again. She was the first normal looking woman he'd seen here, she really was attractive and he wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon with Sayaka. He sat down next to her.

“Have you been here long?”

“Not long. I have trouble sleeping sometimes.” The undertone of her voice made it clear when she went to bed it wasn't sleeping she did. “I haven't seen you around Shinjuku before.”

“I just came in from out of town.” He said carefully. Everyone he'd met so far had an angle, and he was pretty sure he knew hers. The bartender came back with her pack of cigarettes and a glass of water. She perched one between full lips and he lit it for her. She took a drag, then puffed a small cloud of acrid smoke away from them. Kyoya reached for his water before seeing that it looked suspiciously cloudy. The bartender wasn't giving him the cheesy smile though, he was too busy indulging his oral fixation watching the woman smoke.

“My name is Shiori. Shiori Shizuma.”

“Nice name. Kyoya Izayoi.”

Despite the sleazy barhopping getup, she looked fantastic, but that wasn't why he was struck by her. It was the way she was done up, she looked exactly like someone he'd seen before but he couldn't place her. Way back in Kyoya's sleepover days, his friend Ichiro had a VCR and they'd stayed up until his father had gone to bed, then raided his hidden movie collection. Kyoya's own father would have never allowed him to watch those movies. Female Convict 701 was his first experience he could remember seeing a woman nude. Watching topless, big breasted sukeban girl gangs fight yakuza with Ichiro was one of the last good memories he had of what had been largely a shitty childhood before his own dad had gone missing. With her hair, clothes and bust this woman looked like she could have walked right out of one those 70's pinky movies. For some reason he thought she seemed even older but couldn't say why. Her eyes fell on his bokken.

“Aren't you a little old to be playing with wooden swords?”

"It's a bokken, not a toy. In trained hands, it's a deadly weapon. You know Musashi Miyamoto?" Her eyes smiled at him behind a veil of smoke.

"Not personally. Wasn't he prime minister a few years ago?" Her eyes wrinkled when his expression didn't change. "Just a joke. The swordsman right?"

"That's the one. He killed Sasaki Kojiro, one of his most skilled opponents, with a bokken. Crushed his skull."

"Still seems like you'd be better off with steel. Is your sword very hard? May I touch it?" She asked suggestively, her hand already reaching out, and he pulled back with a jerk. Her easy laugh reverberated through the bar and Kyoya flushed beet red.

"You don't just go and touch strange men, especially somewhere like Shinjuku." He knew how lame he sounded, but she'd put him off balance. He could see the bartender trying not to smirk as he arranged his bottles.

"Thanks for the safety tip, but I'm no blushing Shinjuku virgin. Are you?" She chuckled, and he hunched his shoulders, then got up, trying to hide his annoyance at being toyed with.

"Look, nice meeting you but I oughta get back."

"Wait. Wait, don't be like that." She soothed, her voice gentle and mocking at the same time. "It was just another little joke. It's ok if you are."

"Well I'm not!" He snapped, getting more irritated at himself than her now for letting it get to him.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you. Talk with me. I'm sorry." She didn't sound like it. He hesitated a moment, there was something about her he had to admit, and he didn't really want to go back to the room yet. He sat back down.

"Well, I'm sorry too. I guess I'm a bit edgy. This sword is all I have to my name and, well, you just don't touch a man's sword. Without his permission."

"Sure, sure." She said. "I guess you're not into forceful women."

"On second thought I will take that drink." He raised a finger and the bartender shoved the whiskey his way, he didn't trust that water. He took a swig, coughing and feeling the heat from the alcohol warm his skin, meanwhile Shiori was watching him with veteran eyes. "Listen Shiori, what do you want?"

"That's a bit rude. I just wanted to talk, it's cheap right? Maybe I was trying to flirt a little too."

"Look, no offense. You're pretty and you seem...nice, but I haven't run into one person who's played straight with me since I got here. I mean, what kind of person decides to stay in Shinjuku by choice?"

"You mean like you?"

"That's different. Once I do what I came to do I'll be on my way out of this hellhole."

"And what's that?"

"There's a guy who's been hiding out here who needs his ass kicked soft."

"Who is this poor unfortunate?" He took a swig, calculating how much he should be telling her. She was still looking at Kyoya with those eyes, like a snake looking to devour a bird egg. Or something else. He couldn't help it, she oozed lavisciousness. His intentions were pure but his mind was drifting back into the gutter and the whiskey wasn't helping. It was hard to tell what she was, a hostess, maybe even a prostitute. It was in the way she talked, that easy detachment as if she'd seen it all. Definitely something seedy. Of course, that could just been his own perverted thoughts, she could just be a hair dresser who was bored and horny for all he knew. He shook his head, and decided no more booze as he met those bemused eyes of hers again. Veteran eyes, so old. He felt himself getting lost in them. That whiskey, that bartender better not have spiked his drink. It was like she was hypnotizing him with her gaze until he shook his head, coming back to himself.

"So why are you here?" He cut in, breaking the spell, and for a moment she registered mild surprise, the first genuine reaction he'd seen from her. "Why stay in Shinjuku?"

"Well, I...just like it." She took another drag, cheeks tightening. "For some people it's home, no matter what it becomes. Other's like the freedom. That's why I stay. It's a dark paradise for people who want to do anything they want."

"Yeah, but seems to me you're always running from some horrible monster trying to eat you up."

"Well you don't nickname a place Monster City for the school system. Here it's monsters, outside it's police and Yakuza. The only difference is out here, there are no second chances, so you can't afford to get caught. It's exciting."

"But how does someone like you survive here?" She smiled at him through the veil of smoke, enjoying the conversation, the lies. Rebi-Ra never had much to say. She could go on all night like this, just spinning lies and playing the role, but she couldn't play here forever.

"The same as everyone else I guess. Those that are left are stubborn, clever, and careful who we trust." She regarded him under lashes so thick they had to be fake. He was meant to infer she meant him.

"What makes you think you can trust me?"

"You just have one of those guileless faces. You're too brash to be lying about yourself."

"How old are you? If you don't mind me asking." It was the closest he'd come to flirting, but she fascinated him and disturbed him at the same time. Like a dream you wake up from before you can learn it's meaning. There had been a movie a few years back, what was it? Makai Tensho. Good samurai slash 'em up flick, it even had Musashi in it too. Of course the sword play was all fake but it was better than most. The actress with some nude scenes, Akiko somebody, she'd played an evil ghost from the Tokugawa period. With makeup to accentuate her eyes, in the old style, that's who she reminded him of.

"Old enough to know better than to ask a woman her age." He flushed a little again and her small, almost-smile was back again at the corner of her lips.

"Sorry. It's just, I haven't seen anyone wear their hair like that since I was a kid. It's driving me crazy."

"Call me old fashioned. You don't like it?"

"No, it suits you."

"Well." Shiori's lips pursed thoughtfully. "If I told you I was...thirty, would that put you off?"

"Not at all."

Kyoya's cheeks were red, he was equal parts sloshed and aroused, but he was covering it with that easy smile. She had to admit, she liked it. She could have just killed him, here and now, everyone in the crumbling hotel really, but she was having too much fun with her little game. Now was the time to reel him in. It had been too long since she'd had a man, willing or not, and she was going to enjoy this as much as she could. The conclusion would be so much more satisfying if she won the game fair.

"Listen Kyoya." She whispered, fixing him with her gaze. "We could sit here making small talk all night, or...I have a room down the hall. " There was the smallest tinge of excitement in that sentence, and he wasn't so far away from his last experience that he didn't remember exactly what that sounded like in a woman's voice. "The owner's an old friend so I get a special rate here."

Here it comes. Kyoya felt himself relax a little. He had no money, he'd told her as much so whether she was a prostitute or looking to rob him, she'd be out of luck either way.

"Not that I wouldn't love to, but I really have to get back now." She wasn't smiling, or angry, as she moved closer, almost kissing distance. She looked him up and down, and then directly in the eyes. In the dim lighting, her brown irises looked almost yellow and again he was reminded of snakes, and cats playing with mice.

"I'm not a whore." She said, matter of factly. "I just want to take you to bed with me. I hate to sleep alone."

"I..." He stuttered, not sure what smooth thing he could say to play off his assumption. This was a bad idea he knew, but he'd been thinking this in the back of his mind since he laid eyes on her. The truth was he was fit to burst. He wasn't a virgin, but his last experience had been back when he was sixteen. He had no problem acting the lech and flirting when there wasn't much chance a girl would respond to it, but it was obvious he'd be the pupil here. Shiori's expression promised him there was no line he could give her she hadn't heard before. With someone like her it just seemed juvenile and stupid to try and cover it.

"Why me?"

"A lack of strong men these days, and the one's that remain are as likely to rape and kill you as kiss you. I've got a sense for these things, and I think I'd with you. Also, you're not bad looking. I like you Kyoya. Do you like me?"

"You're gorgeous." He got out, then flushed. It made him sound young and dumb. He wanted her badly, but this wasn't the time or place to be thinking with his little sword. What would be worse? Passing this up and going back to the cold floor, or maybe getting a knife in the back and leaving Sayaka and the world to the non-existent mercy of Rebi Ra? "I just don't think it would be a good idea."

"Does going fast make you nervous? A strapping guy like you?"

"No, of course not."

"Good. Because I like it fast." Kyoya was blushing to his roots, his whole body stiff at attention for her, but somehow he found a little extra willpower.

"I really have to go to bed though. I've got life and death stuff tomorrow. If I finish what I've come here to do maybe I'll come back this way and we can have a celebratory drink." She looked almost annoyed at that, in truth she was thinking what his head would look like parting from his body, but then the lashes resumed their cool appraisal.

"What if you don't come back?" She asked, curious. "If there's one thing I've learned living here, you have to take every moment of pleasure you can get, because you never know when it'll be your last. So let's cut through the bullshit." She leaned over and wrapped an arm around him, drawing him close. Her fingers ran through his hair, urging him forward. Unable to help himself, his mouth parted, drawn to her ruby lips. Her perfume was cloying, he was falling deep into those eyes, but when he was inches away her finger pressed against his lips, playfully pushing him away. He groaned in frustration.

"Be honest, would you rather be sleeping or would you like to stay up for awhile?" She popped her lips a bit when she said "up", giving him a preview of what she could do. "It'll help you sleep. For tomorrow." She said, and he found he was out of arguments, and resolve.

"Let's go then." He shrugged, but when he stood up it was on shaky legs.  Ahead of her, Saori's smile turned to a smirk.  She was going to fuck her prey silly before she offered him up as a sacrifice.

Kyoya followed her back through musty hallways until they came to her room on the other side of the hotel. Shiori opened the door with a smile and those bedroom eyes and went in. There was a click and a dim red glow appeared from inside. He hesitated, it occurred to him again how stupid he was, but then he remembered Sayaka's sleeping form, the shallow rise of her chest as she breathed and decided maybe this was better for everyone. His libido certainly thought so as Kyoya followed her in, bokken in hand.

"Well? Be it ever so humble." There was a small electric storm lantern on the table, and Shiori or someone had thrown a rotting red silk over it, illuminating the room and giving it a mood setting love hotel glow. It was much smaller than the seabed room he was staying in, only a queen size bed with pink sheets, a forgettable dresser and nightstands.

"It's dusty." Kyoya observed the thick film over everything, the room looked disused, like no one had stayed in it for years. "Don't they ever clean in here?"

"Well it is Shinjuku. Everything got a little dusty after the big quake. And it's not one of the suites." Wasting no time she kicked off her shoes, then pulled her shirt over her head, shaking her great auburn hair free like a model doing a conditioner commercial, making sure Kyoya observed her black bra, the flat stomach and the delicious curve of her hips. He was watching her without trying to look like he was gawking, so she bent over and slid out of the jeans deliberately, revealing long, coltish legs and smooth appled cheeks clad in black panties. She stepped out of the pile of clothes and came close, looking up at him with the steamy, small almost smile of hers. This close to her he could smell her hair and the salt on her flesh underneath the perfume. He grabbed her forcefully, pulling her into his arms and eliciting a small gasp from Shiori but when he tried to kiss her she pulled back with a jerk.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, in the movies, I always thought-" He scratched his head

"It's nothing. You might think this is strange, but I don't want to be kissed like that. We'll save it till the end, for me that's always the best part." In truth, her venom would melt his throat, and she'd gone through too much small talk for it to end without her getting her treat.

"I've never heard of doing things that way. Usually couples lead off with some kissing and petting, I'd think the big finish would be a, uh..."

"A creampie?" He flushed deep and nodded, that voice among other things was driving him crazy and it took all his resistance with her in front him like this not to start pawing her again. "Maybe you wouldn't understand, but a kiss is so much more...meaningful for someone like me. Are you nervous?"

"Well." He laughed self consciously. "It's been awhile."

"Then do me a favor and lose the bokken. Put it the corner or something." He started, unaware he'd kept his grip on it the whole time.

"Sorry, I thought maybe it was the whole lone swordsman, tragic samurai charm of mine that got your attention."

"Oh it did. You won't need that. I'll take you around the world tonight but I'm just not into that kind of thing." He finally caught her meaning, and coughed, embarrassed. She was pretty sure from his look he was imagining putting that bokken places it was never meant to go now, so he hurriedly propped it up against the side of the bed, within arms reach if he needed it.

"Thanks. I was afraid I was doing to scare you off. Nobody's ever said no to me, and I do like you Kyoya. Relax, just let me take the lead."

"Just don't expect me to close my eyes and squeal and toss my head or anything." Kyoya cracked, and he thought he saw the smile move a fraction of an inch and finally reach her eyes. Almost anyway.

"Likewise." She said deadpan. "Here." She put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back onto the bed and again he had to resist kissing her. "Do you like this?"

"I love it." He reached out to her again and she gently batted his hand away. He groaned inwardly, partly in frustration and annoyance, but mostly anticipation.

"Don't move then." She undid her bra, revealing perfect movie star breasts like soft boiled eggs, a C cup was Kyoya's guess, her nipples hardening in those mounds of soft flesh. Her panties came off next, inches at a time with the ease of a practiced strip tease. She leaned in, kissing distance, and peered into his eyes in that red light, amused, daring him. He wanted to kiss her, to put his hands on those breasts and suckle, to pull her to him, but those eyes were also warning him, and when he didn't move she smiled again and nodded.

"Good boy." She leaned over him, then whispered in his ear, her bare breasts rubbing his arm pleasantly. "Are you a good student?"

"Well I guess I was more into phys ed than math." He replied, trying to match her casual tone, but he was already fit to pop. She draped herself around him seductively, and when he started to turn, she pushed his face back again with a finger. Her hot breath blew into his ear.

"Good with your hands then? Lots of endurance, right? I can work with that. I love to teach if you want to learn. Boy." She was really playing up the older woman angle, he wasn't that young. His impulse was either to laugh or throw her down and bang her but he didn't want to spoil the mood.

"Why not find out?"

"I intend to."

Those slender fingers found their way underneath his shirt, caressing his abs, his biceps, until they slipped down his waist. Her hands ran over his body, sneaking down his pants and then she coiled around his already hard cock and began to lightly jerk him off.

"I like your sword. " Shiori stroked it harder, and his breath caught, but she eased off before the friction could start building towards release. She began to slide his jacket off then unbutton his shirt, undressing him as patiently as a child taking a doll's clothes off. When she unzipped his pants and pulled his underwear down, his cock sprang out, and her eyes widened.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed, and even though her voice dripped pure sex and the situation being what it was, it was that phony line of hers with his erection standing straight at attention like a rocket ready to fire at her face that made him snicker involuntarily. "I hope you're not laughing at me Mr. Izayoi." She huffed, but even though her voice was right it was too fake to be believable. She was definitely a professional, had to be, but he didn't care anymore, as long as she wasn't expecting any money.

"Please don't call me that, you're going to make me feel like a..." A john he thought, but he really didn't want to offend her further. "Like some kind of middle aged salary man."

"Oh I see." The narrow eyes got just a little narrower, and the hostess smile quirked. "Don't worry about that. This is something I wanted, just for me."

"Ok, I AM nervous."

"So relax. Just leave it to big sis to take care of you."

She lay Kyoya down and took ahold of his member with one slim hand as the other roamed his shoulders, his chest, his abs. She tugged him until he was at full attention, her breasts pushing against his stomach as the other hand played with it's toy, tracing a long nail up and down his flanks. He'd become long in her grip, his skin felt electrified at the touch of her fingertips, it felt wonderful but he desperately wanted her to do more, to kiss him or let him kiss her but still she merely caressed his hard body, driving him crazy. As her cool palm stroked his cock and snaked up his chest her breasts hung temptingly before him, he couldn't stop himself any longer. He took first one nub into his mouth, sucking, and then the other, and bit down softly. Sayori gasped, and that was enough for him as he sat up and pushed her down on the bed and began to lick and kiss her neck, her breasts, the smooth stomach. Her body was perfect, begging to be eaten. He fondled and caressed her formidable chest, his fingers moved beneath the large globes, filling his hands with them as his mouth worked its way over their summits.

"Kyoya, slow down!" She pleaded, but her voice was wanton, almost sarcastic, so instead he contented himself with running his tongue over her great mounds. She put a hand over her eyes and tossed her head back, but as he kissed down to her thighs, he could see the ghost of a smirk on her face. His hands caressed her hips, squeezed hard, then moved underneath. For a moment she felt nothing and Shiori opened her eyes and looked down to see him between her legs. There was a grin in his eyes, she couldn't see what his mouth was doing, but she could feel it as he grasped her ankles, pushed her legs back towards her and began to lick.

The difference in their experience was some several hundred years but she didn't have to fake anything as she purred in response to his ministrations. He was an amateur at eating pussy, but he liked her taste evidently as he swished about inside her, not in a hurry, his tongue stimulating then retreating. He bit gently on her clit as he probed her with his index finger, and it wasn't his technique that was pleasing her so much. She'd had many lovers and most of them were in a rush, eager to get off, she was amazed someone with so little experience comparatively could have such perfect pace. She sighed, enjoying her game immensely as his hands took a leisurely tour over her body and his tongue ventured throughout her soul.

"Is it ok if I-?" He was above her, his manhood throbbing against her hot slit, looking at her with lust if not longing, and that was enough to stir her nethers.

"Go on Kyoya, make me yours." She urged, and he pushed inside, his shaft sliding and stimulating her walls until she felt the head kiss her deep. He thrust inside her to the hilt, trying not to hurt her, too slow for her liking so in response she curled her arms and legs around him, spreading herself open to receive more of him. "Yes, don't just tease me, fill me up boy!"

"I'm 20 you know!" He half panted/laughed, and her red smile in response was so inviting he leaned in again to drink his fill from her lips. Instead she shook her head, and her pussy squeezed, hips bucking, drawing him in. Frustrated, he pumped her faster and she threw her head back accepting all his strength and pent up lust. Her breasts shook as he pounded her, delighting in be used, and the deception of letting him think he was in control.

"Go on, hammer me. You can creampie me Kyoya, I'm safe." He grunted, picking up speed, and in one motion he turned her on her side and slid into her vessel like a stiff eel. She trilled in delight as he kept balance on the headboard and managed to fuck her with just his hips, pistoning even faster and striking her erogenous spot. "Yes! Fuck me! I never thought you'd be so good!"

Kyoya was sweating and breathing hard now, not from the position, he could handle this but trying not to burst. Her voice was liked poured honey, she was sucking him in and he badly want to fire inside her but maybe once was enough for her and he really wanted this to last. There were roses blooming in her cheeks, her eyes were hungry, and maybe some of it was acting but he thought with that last move she was really feeling it. Sayori seemed to sense he was flagging, so she pulled him down, holding him a close for a few seconds. When he didn't climax, she rolled over and removed herself with a pop.

"I'm not finished." Kyoya protested, but the eyes just registered cool amusement. She was almost done pretending, it was time to take her pleasure and leave the rest.

"Neither am I. Let's see how many minutes you last." She held him at the base, encouraging his cock to rise to meet her before her vessel devoured it whole. The pleasure was so intense he moaned and her smile widened before she began to ride him in earnest. The full breasts rose in fell in rhythm with each bounce as she sat again and again on his slick spire, she was so wet there was no friction, only the feeling of the she demon's insides coaxing his flesh to release. He managed to sit up and suckle each of her majestic tits before she pulled his head between them, suffocating him in sensual delight.

He squeezed, his fingertips digging into her round buns, then forced her down, penetrating her deep and Sayori's breath caught as the pleasure filled her like a spiderweb of lightning inside.  Her lips pursed as she shuddered from the orgasm, this was far better than she could have imagined, but it was time to end things. She bore down on him, spiked his balls, rode his tip, made his skin cry and sing as her canal clenched and cajoled in ways that no human woman could learn to do in their miserably short mayfly lives.  He was at his limit, and still she bounced on him, taking it all, faster and faster.

Kyoya fell back into the bed, pushed beyond all endurance and Sayori's gasp was full of satisfaction as she took his hot load deep inside, shooting up and bathing her cervix in a sticky molten eruption. The pleasure she felt as he pulsed and ebbed out inside her was completely genuine, she hadn't been allowed this kind of attention from a man in years. Kyoya's face strained in ecstasy, almost to the point of madness and the she demon bit her lip, drinking in her fill of the sight. She slowed down her thrusts, draining every drop out of his cock.

"Mmm. So good. And you?" Kyoya could only nod dumbly. He didn't have many times to compare it to but it absolutely blew them all away. Even though he was spent she was still keeping him hard by squeezing and teasing his rod between her legs in ways he couldn't have imagined. "Time for your kiss then."

She leaned down, her hands slipping lightly over his wrists. He'd been anticipating it after she'd denied it for so long to him, but something wasn't right. It wasn't anything in her tone or her look, Kyoya really couldn't say what it was, but for just a second, it seemed like there was shaved ice in the flecks of her eyes. A premonition, that same weird survival instinct, a push, from where inside himself he couldn't say made him do it perhaps, but when she opened his mouth and bore down on him, he jerked his head to the side.

A single drop of her saliva fell from her mouth and landed on the pillow just next to his ear. It sizzled loudly, and a chemical smell of melting cotton and fibers assaulted his nose. Before he could even think of what this meant, her grip on his wrists changed, and tightened. Her fingers felt first like melting wax and then clammy, and amphibian like as she became something monstrous; he felt a similar coiling around his ankles. Her arms split into two tendrils a piece, one for each of his arms and the other two wrapped around his neck.

"What the hell are you?" He sputtered just before they began squeezing, there could be no doubt this time her smile was real as she choked him, still riding him all the while.

"I win. You never had a chance you little fool." She chuckled as she squeezed, enjoying the deliberate slowness of the kill. "I could have killed you a dozen times before now. You're just lucky I got to you before you faced Rebi Ra. Your end wouldn't have been nearly as exciting." As if to make her point, the tendril tightened even further and Kyoya found he couldn't get any air in through his nose. Sayori's stalks slithered over his wrists and angles, entwining him, as she squeezed both his throat and the erect member inside herself. The pain and fear mingled perversely with pleasure, and her leer widened as Kyoya continued to struggle.

"You have strong spiritual energy. But you don't know how to use it. You're just a boy after all." She laughed and tightened her grip. "Give yourself over to the other side. I heard going out this way the pleasure is mind blowing, so enjoy it to it's fullest."

Kyoya felt like he was drowning, futilely gulping for air that couldn't pass his throat. His vision had become so hazy he could barely make anything out at all now. He grasped blindly, tearing in vain at her tendrils with his fingers for all the good it did him, but he couldn't really move in her grip. She didn't budge, only continuing to chuckle. He'd pass from this world in a few moments if he couldn't do something. He forced himself to relax, his hands settling on the she demon's tendrils and she leaned forward, curious.

"That's it, just give up, it'll be easier that way. "

Instead he was focusing. Normally he'd inhale and exhale as he concentrated, but this was impossible at this point. His lungs burned and his head felt like it wanted to burst but he blocked it all out somehow and concentrated only on the energy building. The bokken was only the conduit, the Ninpo came from Kyoya himself. If this didn't work, he was dead, but there was no need to think of that now.

A state of serene peace filled him and he seemed to hover above his body. Was this what it was like to die? No, not yet. Blue fire leapt through his fingertips, finding ground in the demon woman's flesh and she screamed, an inhuman alien sound as the Ninpo energy burned her as if she'd embraced a hot skillet. She flew back, landing on the bureau in a heap and crushing it to splinters as her featureless limbs thrashed. Kyoya took a deep breath, sucking in air, and then another before opening his eyes to see the incoming tentacle about to flatten his head.

He rolled off the bed to the side and immediately went for the bokken but Shiori flicked it away with the tip of one long arm, causing it to fly to corners unknown. She rose from the wreckage, her flesh burned and crawled and smoked where his fingers had touched her. She had an expression of pure hate, making the beautiful face gorgon-like, her bare breasts and snake like tail where her legs had been completed the look. The long arms whipped at him, and he ducked to avoid getting pulped, the tendril leaving a crumbling imprint in the wall where it struck. The next one came low and he ducked but tripped as it knocked the entire bed sideways.

He button-hooked around the flipped bed, putting it between them just as Shiori leapt at him, tentacles whipping angrily around the side. One of them grazed him on the shoulder, leaving a welt. He put his body weight against the side, pushing, and managed to tip the bed back onto the Shiori-thing. There was a growl as she squirmed underneath, and the bed rose, once, twice, before the tips of her tendrils began tearing it straight down the middle, frame and all. He'd taken the five seconds this had bought him to try and locate his bokken without any luck. What could he-there! The bed was so much junk now, springs, tatters, and one of the bed posts had come off. He couldn't even see where his bokken went, so he picked it up, hefting it. Maybe it wasn't a bokken, but it was wood and had a good weight to it. He looked up to see her slithering over top of the remains of the bed bed, tendril arms swinging wildly, shattering what remained of the light fixtures. He made a mad dash for the hallway, but her tail snapped, hitting him in the small of the back as if he'd been kicked. He found his feet and stood up to face her, narrowing his field of vision, exhaling, focusing only at the incoming figure flying at him and willing the Ninpo into the bedpost in his hand.

As she came at him he raised the post in hand, and it felt more natural to do what came next then draw on his swordmanship. It had been years, but he planted his legs and put his back into it just as if he was back in middle school playing baseball. The bedpost connected with the creature's stomach with that sweet pressure you knew meant a homerun just as soon as you felt it tingle up your arms. The satisfying whack cracked the bedpost down the middle and Shiori was no longer lunging at him like a hungry beast but hurtling in the opposite direction. She flew back, eyes bugging out in pain and comic surprise as the blow hit her with the force of a truck. She went right through the window, a bar hopping sex pot from the waist up with fangs in her mouth and limbs a tangle of squirming, flesh colored tentacles. They flailed about, searching for purchase among the jagged glass before she went over the side, looking more than a little like a giant squid.

Her agonized yowl as she fell four stories was pain and frustrated rage. Kyoya blinked, dazed, before rushing to the window. He leaned out, trying to see everywhere at once but there were only empty streets. He could just make out the broken glass far below, but of Shiori or whatever she was, not a sign. Straining his ears, he heard what sounded like a garbage can overturn, then a hiss that was too big and full of female malice to be a cat. Then silence. She was gone.

Kyoya thought of going after her , but that idea died instantly as he sank down, his ass hitting the floor with a thud. He was tired and hurting, he wanted nothing more now than to sleep for days, but the thought that she was still out there just waiting to come back and finish him off kept him from passing out. The adrenaline had run it's course, now he felt shaky and weak, but he managed to get up somehow. As he fished his bokken out of the wreckage of the room, Kyoya looked up to see the old man with the sweat stains he'd passed earlier in the hall leveling his shotgun in his face.

"What the hell did you do to my room?"

"Tch." Kyoya wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth and spat on the floor. The old man's face let him know this wasn't appreciated, so he bowed as respectfully as he could. "Sorry pops." He looked around the torn up room, trying to think of an excuse, but nothing came, he was just too beat. "Demons."

The gun wavered for a sec before disappearing back into the old man's jury rigged holster as he nodded.

"Well, the insurance company don't need to know that when they finally come. If anyone asks, it was the quake, right?" Kyoya stifled a smartass remark; he thought the guy was joking but the old man's turtle face regarded him with deadly seriousness.

"Sure, I mean, it was like this when I got here."

"Good, well you help me pick up, we'll just forget this ever happened." The old man started picking through the broken furniture, lifting a chair that had survived intact and set it upright in it's corner. Sighing, Kyoya hunkered down and started picking up pieces of jagged bureau. Guess he wouldn't be sleeping tonight at all.

"Shiori" leaned against the filthy dumpster and retched a vile, acidic bile that left steaming holes in the concrete. A stray cat yowled at her, and without thinking one of her tendrils smashed it into the wall, leaving a bloody smear. There were burn marks on her arms, and her stomach looked like it had been hit with a mortar shell. Touching her cheek gingerly she winced. She was healing, but much too slowly. Normally it was nearly instantaneous but the boy's Ninpo energy had actually hurt her. Her eyes focused on the hotel window she'd been ejected from and she growled. She couldn't go back to Rebi Ra, not like this. As soon as she healed, she would kill Kyoya. If only she hadn't played with her food, she should have just killed him and been done with it. Nobody refused her attentions like that. She'd crush his bones, melt his face, and devour what remained. She'd-

"Excuse me miss." She turned, ready to kill whoever the voice belonged to but stopped when she saw the owner. He was a tall, striking man, long black hair and pale skin and well dressed in a red longcoat.

"Leave me alone." Shiori grit, but the man made no move except narrowing his eyes.

"I couldn't possibly. It's a cold night, and you're unclothed. You look hurt." His voice was refined, heavily accented, east European from the sound, but his Japanese was otherwise impeccable.

"Fuck off." She replied, willing herself to heal faster. She didn't like the look of him. He was too clean, too calm for Shinjuku. He had an icy beauty and cold emotionless eyes that reminded her of herself.

"I'm a doctor."

"I don't need your help. I said fuck off."

"Ah, it's cold, but it's still a beautiful night. A beautiful night, a beautiful woman, a chance meeting. You have to see the poetry." She'd had enough. A tentacle swung at his feet, intending to entangle the man but instead he leapt, much farther into the air then a normal human should have and landed elegantly a few feet from where he'd stood. The man's smile was just visible at the corners of his mouth.

"Too slow. He must have taken alot out of you for a beginner." His eyes teased. "How lucky for me."

"You arrogant bastard!" The eyes regarded her from the cold depths of space, but it was the trace of pity in them that gave her a chill.

"Don't take it personally my dear, but the boy belongs to me."

She hissed, her limbs elongating and whipping towards the man in a frenzy. The man pulled three scalpels from his sleeve as if doing a magic trick, the surgical steel gleaming. They flung themselves at eachother in the dark alley, their fight was vicious, nearly soundless, and very brief.

Afterwards, the man, Mephisto as he liked to be called, stood looking up at the hole in the hotel where the young man was still propping up furniture. The sky was starting to brighten, soon it would be morning. He chucked dryly, an echo of the demon he'd disposed of.

"Kyoya. Don't die until we've had a chance to meet. I look forward to seeing what else you can do."