For a breathless second, silence wrapped the marble hall—broken only by the echo of Kuradome's voice.
Sozai and Yurei stared at each other, ears pinned back, tails bristling in shared panic.
"Shit…" Sozai hissed between clenched teeth, black cat eyes darting.
Yurei's mouth opened—no sound came, only quick breaths clouded by wine and fear. His gray ears trembled, face pale despite the flush still blooming on his cheeks.
"K–Kuradome-sama…!"
"Another perfectly wrong timing…" Yurei gasped under his breath.
Sozai's smirk cracked into real urgency, yet mischief still danced in his gaze.
"Hehehe~ I think that's another curse you got, baby fox—always caught at the worst moment! Now run! Run! Run! Before he catches us!"
He grabbed Yurei's wrist, dragging him toward the upper staircase. Their robes tangled, trailing petals and silk.
Kuradome's footsteps echoed above—steady, calm, yet unmistakably closing in.
"Quick! Quick! He's close!" Sozai urged, voice half-laugh, half-command.
"All your fault! Now save your ass and my life!" Yurei shot back, breath ragged, gray tail whipping behind him.
They stumbled up the stairs—Sozai half pulling, half lifting Yurei when he slipped.
Kuradome's silhouette appeared at the head of the stairway—silver hair loose, crown ribbon slightly askew, eyes narrowed in tired annoyance mixed with hidden amusement.
"Children…" Kuradome's voice dropped, softer, almost teasing—though still edged. "You think I wouldn't hear your drunken opera?"
The words sent a chill down Yurei's spine. His heart pounded so wildly he could almost see it move beneath his silk.
They neared Yurei's chamber door—hope flaring in Yurei's eyes.
But just as Yurei reached for the handle, Sozai slipped inside first—then slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with a soft click.
Yurei froze, hand still on the door, breath caught.
"S–Sozai!! It's not the time to have fun! Open the door!"
"I'm gonna kill you—then kill you again if he kills me!!"
Inside, Sozai barely stifled laughter—one hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking.
Kuradome's footsteps drew closer, each step calm, measured.
Yurei's chest tightened, wine-sweet blood draining from his face.
"Really …" Kuradome murmured, voice low, closer than expected.
"Of all the things… mocking me in song?"
Yurei's ears flattened, tail low, knees trembling.
Just then, Sozai's hand shot out from the door crack—fingers curling around Yurei's wrist.
"Come here, clueless fox," Sozai breathed, voice softer now—half pity, half tease.
He yanked Yurei inside with a sudden pull, door closing again with a muffled thud.
Inside, Sozai pressed Yurei's back against the wall, bodies close, breath mingling.
"Look at you… your face pale as rice paper," Sozai whispered near his fox ear, smirk curling though voice softer than before.
"And your heart—of, it's pounding so loud I could see it beat through your robe."
Yurei swallowed hard, eyes glassy, breath shallow.
"Shut up… I hate you…" he whispered harshly, voice cracking, wine and fear stealing the strength.
His legs wobbled under him, chest heaving.
Sozai's teasing gaze faltered.
Slowly, gently, he leaned closer—forehead brushing the tips of Yurei's gray hair. His lips landed, barely, between Yurei's eyebrow and nose—warm, steady, soft as a breath.
"Shhh… it's fine. You're fine," Sozai murmured, purr vibrating faintly in his throat.
"He didn't fire you yet. You're safe. I'm here."
The words slipped past his mischief, voice almost too tender for a drunken cat.
Yurei's eyelids fluttered, left eye half open, right eye closing fully under the gentle weight of that almost-kiss. His breath slowed—still shaking, but softer.
From outside the door, Kuradome's voice came—quieter now, oddly thoughtful. He was lending against the door of Yurei's chamber , arms crossed , gaze soften..not reflecting the heat as his words had
"I know it's you two… Yurei, Sozai."
"Lucky for you… tonight I'm not in the mood for arguing over such a tiny thing."
A pause. His tone lowered, dark silk wrapping the words.
"But yes… I'll remember, Yurei—that you mocked me. It won't leave my mind."
His words lingered, heavy yet strangely warm—half threat, half quiet confession.
Kuradome stood, hand brushing the doorframe, silver lashes lowered. In a voice barely a whisper, too soft for them to hear:
"…Good night."
Then he turned away, footsteps fading down the corridor, robe trailing slow as drifting smoke.
Inside, Yurei's eyes widened in panic.
"I'm… I'm ruined," he rasped.
"I'll lose my position… tomorrow…"
His head rolled to the side, body going slack. The last thing he saw: Sozai's startled, sharp green gaze.
"H–hey! Careful, you clueless fox!" Sozai murmured, voice softer, nearly worried.
Yurei's head dropped, weight falling fully into Sozai's arms. His lashes trembled, then stilled.
"Why is it my fault that I call you princess?" Sozai muttered, half to himself.
"You act like one… faint so easily in my arms… like I'm some prince…"
His voice cracked faintly at the last word.
A flash of something raw flickered across his eyes, gone in an instant.
"…While you want someone else. The real Ribbon Prince—Kyoren-sama," he finished under his breath.
He sighed, breath catching.
Carefully, Sozai slipped an arm under Yurei's knees, the other around his back—lifting him fully into his arms, bridal style.
Yurei's gray hair fell over his face like silk curtains, hiding the flushed cheeks. His right hand slipped limply over Sozai's shoulder; left hand rested weakly across his own chest.
Sozai carried him toward the low bed.
His steps slowed at the bedside; breath hitched as his gaze fell on the faint mark at Yurei's right shoulder—the mark Kyoren had left, half by accident, half by memory.
For a moment, his black cat eyes darkened—not with jealousy alone, but something deeper, tangled, unspoken.
He lowered Yurei onto the silk bedding, carefully arranging the robes. Fingers brushed stray gray strands from Yurei's closed eyes. His thumb hesitated—almost caressing the mark, but pulled back.
"Sleep, baby fox," Sozai whispered, voice hoarse, almost breaking .
Outside, the moon still floated high—silver bleeding into the darkness.
Somewhere beyond that velvet sky, a softer truth ached, unspoken:
That a black cat might guard the rose...
even if the rose only bloomed for another.
[ End of Chapter 34 ]