#(( LAUGHING MANIACALLY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAH ))

[cryopathiic-a]

'What is this?! Why can't I break this rope..?!'

█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃█

Whatever that shrine maiden did.. he couldn't undo it. That sacred binding, or whatever she called it, had fully immobilized Akaza. The strange red rope bound the Upper Moon at the wrists and ankles. Anchoring him to the ground, even preventing him from wriggling into the sanctuary of the shade just off to the side of this abandoned place of worship. How was this possible? All that old woman did was utter some words when he got too close to the grounds of an old shrine..! Suddenly he was here. Stuck on a cobblestone foundation, straining against moss and the dirt of holy grounds left to the mists of time for at least a few decades. Pink hair and tattooed cheeks now speckled with dirt and flecks of moss turned loose with their struggle.

"Damn it..!! Shit..!!" All Akaza could do was seethe as the veins beneath his skin bulged and strained with their knuckles beneath turned blue tattoos pale with white-hot frustration at his current situation. Bound and despite all of his efforts, unable to sever the thick rope that now felt as if it was burning the Upper moon with the tension and force behind their attempts to break free.

There was only an hour or so until daybreak. Akaza was fully exposed in a forest where no human dared to tread now that word of a demon had likely gotten out, and the rope felt as if it was made of lead. This was certainly not good.

Each Kizuki has their respective use and purpose. Handpicked by their Lord for their unique talents, the task of finding that elusive bloom is shared among them — but some have methods much less refined than others. And knowing that, Dōma didn't second-guess what might have happened to his beloved friend. Akaza was reknowned for his temper after all. This time, he just picked the wrong place and time.

And, oh, his night was about to get much, much worse. Because, unfortunately for him, the smell of his despair had drawn in a certain vulture.

A ruffle from above as branches rock and shed oak leaves on the disgraced third moon. And then—

❝ Hey there! ❞ Dōma's face comes dangling down, just inches apart from Akaza's nose. ❝ Would you look at that! We ended up bumping on each other again... ❞ Coincidentally. ❝ I must say, Lord Akaza, I did not expect to find you near this sort of establishment! Have you decided to revisit you opinions on religion, perhaps? ❞ Upper Two's face presses into a gleeful smile at that.

And he hops off; landing gracefully with fabrics floating around his form. After patting down on his hakama, Dōma pulls some stray white gold away from his face and turns to his fellow Kizuki with a grin; a grin that the trained eye would immediately flag as quite devious.

❝ Oh, that looks rather painful, huh? ❞ A lavender claw is first pointed to the restraints... and then Dōma takes that pivotal step too close to the other. His finger is distinctly icy when it traces down the veins littering Akaza's forearm and digs under the bind. That little wedge would be enough to increase the pressure for a moment, wouldn't it? Especially when that claw is flicked away, leaving the rope to lash an already reddened wrist. Dōma's face wrinkles with a cutesy smile.

❝ You poor thing... how did you manage to end up like this, huh? It's really unwise to be exposed out here, you know. The sun will be up soon. ❞ The tone grows somber as he directs Akaza's attention to the dawning light. That makes things urgent. Well. It's not often that Dōma would come upon an opportunity to make his best friend plead for his aid like that. And, in the gleam of his eye, it becomes evident that he intends to milk it.

❝ Oh well. You should be more careful next time, Lord Akaza! Although, I'm sure you'll figure this out by yourself, right? You don't seem to need my help. ❞ He explains, before waving the other off and turning to walk away —

He wants to hear it.