Some questions can be answered as quickly as a breath if they carry no consequence or are simple. But others wear an easy face while carrying the heaviest weight. This was the burden Xio felt pressing inside him, and he knew it.
He could easily answer "yes" or "no," yet his words wouldn't come easy. He spoke of nothing unless it truly held significance. He couldn't say "no" because Kirihito might be hurt, and his own situation, coupled with his unclear feelings, was fogging his judgment. On the other hand, he couldn't say "yes" because it wasn't the truth; he could never give Kirihito the place he had given to Yuzai. He decided that the truth, spoken calmly, was the only thing Kirihito could understand and bear to hear. He cleared his throat, which felt dry. Kirihito was still close, holding his collar, his head tilted in silent expectation.
"Why are you coughing like an old man, insect Xio? Is Kirihito holding your collar that hard? Do I need water or something to give me my answers?" Kirihito asked, the words a low mumble.
Xio swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from wondering: Can't he speak without insulting me for once? He had even changed his own talking style, inspired by that unholy crow!
"Yeah, what's wrong, human? Do xì have to bring water for you? Or should xì 'cum' with it for you?" Xì purred with half-lidded eyes and that cocky smile that made Xio's skin erupt in goosebumps. Xì's deliberate mispronunciation of "come" was a perfect, malicious tease. Xio felt his cheeks heating up again, and he hated it more than he let on.
"Shut up! You don't need to come with water for me! Stay where you are—in my demon faces' mouth until tomorrow!" Xio said in an annoyed, his voice finally found after a long, dry silence.
Xì cackled like he had won the lottery. It was a dark, dramatically weird sound.
Kirihito suddenly released Xio's collar, planted his hands on his hips, and tilted his head up, his sharp collarbone perfectly in view. The laughter he let out didn't seem like an imitation at all; it felt like his own signature. Xio's eyes snapped onto him. That sudden sound was too jarring.
"Wh—What's wrong with you again?" Xio demanded, his voice shaky from exhaustion and surprise.
Xì's mouth watered. Kirihito's sudden mature aura felt even hotter, and Xì didn't know how long he could hold himself back. "Xì needs private time with Kirihito-sama right here and now! Leave, human! Kindly go out of the room! I'm dying here! Also, take those ugly demon faces too!"
Xio stared at Xì in disbelief. He was the most shameless creature he had ever seen.
Before Xio could react, Kirihito's character switched again, loud and clear.
He suddenly grabbed Xio by his long hair from behind, forcing his head to tilt back. Xio's breath hitched from the abrupt, dominant action. His eyes were wide. "Ah... hm!" Xio whimpered, the sound suppressed, making him feel like a small, overpowered kitten. His mouth kept opening and closing uselessly.
He saw Kirihito hook his other hand around Xio's one half-folded leg. Kirihito was now sitting between Xio's legs, his face close, slowly licking his own lips with a dark smirk. He had raised his shoulder slightly, causing his loose robe to fall away, exposing his right shoulder and a bit more of his chest.
Xio swallowed hard, his eyes unconsciously flickering to Kirihito's chest and shoulder. When he realized this, he shut his eyes tightly. My eyes were lured by such a sinfully beautiful view, he chastised himself mentally. Don't look at him right now, he's just playing his dangerous little game again; that's his curse energy, Xio.
"You haven't answered me, Xio… I don't like waiting… especially when it comes to asking questions of anyone." Kirihito spoke in a deep, mature voice that didn't sound like his own—but it was clearly the voice that sometimes glitched.
Meanwhile, Xì was at a loss for words, seeing Kirihito in full devil mode. Poor crow is in a total mating mood. Kirihito really felt like he could break not only the bed but the entire floor, and Xì desperately wanted it.
But Kirihito paid him no attention, even as Xì called to him multiple times. "Kirihito-sama! Kiri-Hito! Sama! Drop that human, please, and come to Xì! Xì needs your hands on Xio's hair and thighs too!" he called, flapping his wings to get closer, but the demon faces were stubborn, refusing to let him go.
"I'm not in any mood for a joke, Xì. Stop jumping like your life depends on my flawless body." Kirihito said, not looking at Xì, instead gazing at Xio as if his blindfolded eyes could devour him. Xì immediately fell silent, sensing the danger, his wings fluttering anxiously behind him.
"Um... Okay... Xì will be silent for Kirihito-sama... only," Xì said in a nervous tone, a wailing smile betraying his fear. He stayed silent while the demon faces held him in place.
Xio's pale lips pressed into a thin line. He dared not move, only cursing Xì silently: Lucky you that I usually don't kill Yokai! Or your only wings would remain here, and my uncle would love to keep those like a showpiece! You're even more filterless than my Demon uncle!
Yet, he couldn't help but be hyper-aware of everything around him—every touch, every word. Everything felt charged and strange. He wasn't even in a condition to struggle, both from his exhaustion and his fear of doing something wrong and making Kirihito snap.
"Do I have to invite you to a prize-giving ceremony to speak, little insect? It's not like I'll break your hips if you speak," Kirihito ordered, giving Xio's hair a light tug. It was just enough to remind him: This is no joke. He was serious about the tiny matter of remembering him if he was to be like Yuzai. His patience was clearly wearing thin in his changed, deep voice. Then, to apply a finishing touch, he added, "Or maybe I might... do it... actually."
Xio swallowed hard again, staying silent, trying to memorize every detail like a critical math problem. He was also trying to figure out what kind of First-Class Special Grade Yokai Kirihito was, analyzing his personality.
But Kirihito didn't properly match the cursed type, which were supposed to have only animalistic, violent characteristics, not a dual nature or a balance of violence and innocence. Besides, he noticed something more this time: a detail on Kirihito's forehead, hidden by his hair.
He couldn't act on it yet. It wasn't the right moment, not while he was in a position where he could barely breathe.
"I'm only not cracking your hips to make calcium juice because…" he added, stopping deliberately and dramatically, waiting for Xio's reaction like an actual predator sizing up its prey.
Xio only blinked, still processing Kirihito's words and the switch from his childish character to this unfamiliar one. His mind raced through every lesson in Yokai System Education he could recall. I remember: First Class are two types—Cursed and Colony. Cursed types are mostly hunter animal spirits, while Second Class could be anything, and Third Class are peaceful animals. So, in that case, Kirihito really is a hunter type... But why does he feel like two souls in one body with the snake's characteristics? According to my study, curses are only the punishment Yokai carry... but why does this curse feel like... breathing the same air as me?!
Kirihito let out a deep, dark chuckle, filled with pride, like he already knew what was going on in Xio's head but wouldn't speak of it yet. In his mind, he thought about Xio: That insect is like any grasshopper... and I'm enjoying his every jump. I should spin him and "his" world more for better results.
Kirihito continued, "Because… you're the only insect whose flesh I didn't feel like eating. Just as butterflies don't…" he purred into Xio's ear, making Xio feel his skin break out in goosebumps from the deep voice and hot breath right against his skin.
He blinked. This statement felt like another insult disguised as a compliment. He wondered why Kirihito always addressed humans as insects—it felt disgusting—though the butterfly metaphor did little to make it feel disturbingly beautiful.
Yet, as Kirihito's lips curved into that faint, knowing smile, he felt something crawl under his skin—something he couldn't name. Was it fear? Curiosity? Or that strange pull that made his heart stutter whenever those cursed eyes met his?
Xio looked away, but the image of that smile lingered—fragile, venomous, unforgettable.
And for the first time, he realized Kirihito wasn't just mocking him.
He was warning him.