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    Summary

    Despite Buddhism's notable influence in your country, you remain a resolute devotee to an ancient Japanese goddess. As such, you offer the most sacred blood to be found and always had...until the King of Curses finds it necessary to change your way of devotion.

    “You know…” he drawls carelessly. “I could just take it from you. Whenever I want.” His hand possessively takes hold of you.

    Of course you knew that, you scoff inwardly. But he doesn’t know you. Not yet and by far not really. He doesn’t know that you’ve seen death and destruction in its worst form and have come to know it well. He really doesn’t know the depth of betrayal you live with. That you’ve been present for life’s crowning achievement, the wailing of a new babe, only to have it snatched away by disease or other misfortune. The tortuous months of waiting to be punctuated with unending grief. The resolve of women, damp and sweaty after labor, energy depleted, whose eyes grey after the news. The lifeless gaze of both mother and child, both bloodied and still. He doesn’t know your horrid part in this. He must think you’re soft. Pliable. So you must teach him.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,169
    Chapters:
    1/3
    Kudos:
    4
    Bookmarks:
    1
    Hits:
    117