Dreamer Awakened

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kusanagi barely waited for Momiji to pull up in the drive before he was out of the car and stalking towards the front door of the house. His tall frame was brightly illuminated by the headlights of the car as he walked in front of it and the light brought out the green highlights in his dark hair and threw his face into shadow, making him look even more forbidding that he had on the ride home from the restaurant. Momiji’s eyes forlornly followed his movement, watching him open the door and disappear inside the house.

She idly wondered what he was going to do, for he had made it very clear that he was going to do something.

I don’t get mad, Princess. I get even, had been his exact phrase, and Momiji knew that he had meant it. But what could he possibly do as punishment for her not telling him about Susano-oh? Stop talking to her? It wasn’t like he was the greatest conversationalist in the world to begin with, and a few less words here and there probably wouldn’t make that big of a difference, Momiji told herself with a wry twist of her lips. But still, she didn’t want their relationship to move backwards, and that was exactly where it was headed.

With a heavy sigh, Momiji took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. She gathered up her files on the Tengugaki, got her bags out of the trunk and slowly followed Kusanagi into the house. He had turned on the lights in the living room, but he wasn’t in there, and Momiji wasn’t sure if she wanted to try and find him, considering the current mood he was in.

Instead, she trod over to her answering machine and listened to her messages. There was one from Akiko and another one from her mother, but nothing from Midori, like she had been hoping there would be. Still clutching her files and her bags in one hand, she picked up the phone and dialed it with the other. She would call her mother and Akiko later, she told herself, but right now, she wanted to see if she could get in touch with Midori.

No answer. Momiji frowned, and when Midori’s machine picked up, she left a message for her. Not quite ready to give up, Momiji called Midori’s parents, and when she asked to speak to her friend, Midori’s mother told her that she had left to return to Tokyo four days ago.

Momiji’s worry must have sounded in her voice because there was a slight pause and then Midori’s mother asked, "Mrs. Kunikida called earlier looking for her as well. Is there something wrong?"

"Wrong?" Momiji echoed faintly, "err, well n-not –" she stammered and with a grimace, closed her eyes

What should she do? It wasn’t like she could say, ‘I’m sorry, but the TAC thinks your daughter has been carted off by some plantlike creature and we don’t know where she is.’ Where was the tact in that? Momiji cast around desperately for something to tell Midori’s mother, but couldn’t think of anything, and so she stood there, silently opening and closing her mouth like a stranded fish.

"Tell her that you thought Midori said she would be there," came Kusanagi’s voice quietly from behind her, and Momiji turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. "Tell her, Momiji," he urged her when she just stood there staring at him.

"I – I thought that Midori said she was going to stay a couple of extra days with you, Mrs. Fujisawa. She’s probably back in Tokyo right now, working late at the lab. I’ll try her there."

Momiji could tell that Mrs. Fujisawa was still very worried, but she didn’t know what else to do. She knew that she couldn’t be the one to tell her that Midori was missing. That would have to officially come from Mr. Kunikida and the TAC. Momiji turned and put the phone down, every nerve in her body highly aware of Kusanagi’s presence, as he stood just behind her, giving her an enigmatic look.

"Try not to worry, Momiji," he told her gruffly, "the Aragami have no real reason to take her, so I think that the TAC is wrong about that. She’ll probably turn up safe."

It wasn’t much of a reassurance, but Momiji could see that he was trying. And at least he didn’t look angry at her any more, either.

"Thanks, Kusanagi," she told him gratefully, taking a step towards him and then stopping when the files she had been carrying slipped from her fingers and scattered across the floor.

"Oh crap!" she exclaimed and hurriedly bent down to retrieve them.

"Here," Kusanagi offered, "let me do that."

That was a mistake for as he bent down to gather them up, Momiji straightened to move out of his way and the back of her head collided with his face. SMACK!! Kusanagi cursed loudly, jerking back and put his hand to his forehead.

"Oww!" Momiji muttered, gingerly rubbing the back of her head and then, when she glanced at Kusanagi, she saw green blood trickling from his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. "Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Let me see -"

She dropped her bags to the ground and scurried forward, but he stopped her with an outstretched hand.

"It’s okay," he told her, "it’s nothing, Momiji. You must have cut me with your barrette."

Momiji put her hand to the back of her head and touched the barrette she used to pull her hair away from her face. It was fairly small; shaped like a row of several flowers, but they were hard and the petals had several sharp points on them.

"I’m so sorry, Kusanagi", she reiterated contritely, staring at him and wringing her hands together.

"It’s okay," he reiterated, brushing it off. "Look," he said, removing his hand, "it’s even stopped bleeding."

"Oh my gosh!" she said again, stepping even closer and staring at his forehead.

Kusanagi felt uneasiness slide through him at the look in her eye. It reminded him of the thermometer incident and as she stepped towards him, he took a wary step back.

"Kusanagi, it’s really swelling," she said fretfully, pointing to his head.

"Well, your head is really hard, Princess, so I don’t doubt that it’s swelling," he replied sardonically, smiling a bit when he saw a flash of irritation in her green eyes.

Momiji refused to let him bait her though, as she clamped down on her temper. After all, it was her fault that he had gotten hurt.

"Let me get some ice for you," she murmured helpfully and turned towards the kitchen.

"NO!" Kusanagi cried unexpectedly, suddenly grabbing her arm. His reaction startled her, making her visibly jump and she stopped, her green eyes wide as she looked back at him. "I can do that for myself, Momiji," he told her and moved past her to stand in the kitchen door. "You go ahead and take care of your…things."

He pointed to her bags and the papers still scattered across the floor, and Momiji looked down at them before turning to give him an uncertain look.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to help –"

"Stop treating me like a child," he exclaimed in aggravation, "If I forget how to open the refrigerator, Princess, then you’ll be the first person I call."

And then he turned without another word and stalked into the kitchen. Momiji stood there blinking at the empty doorway, her mouth left hanging open at his rapid change of moods. She finally gave herself a slight shake and bent to retrieve her things. With a frown, she hurriedly shoved all of the papers and pictures back into the folder without taking the time to sort through them.

"Fine, Mr. Kusanagi," she muttered, viciously slapping one page on top of another. "See if I care," she huffed, clambering to her feet and then stomping towards the stairs. "I hope you get freezer burn on your forehead!"

Momiji clomped up the stairs and into her room, muttering to herself all the way. Once there, she slumped tiredly across the bed after putting her things away and fidgeted to find a relaxing position. Unable to get comfortable, she rolled over onto her back and stared crossly up at the ceiling. She was getting a headache, she thought irritably. And whose fault was that? Kusanagi’s, of course!

Restless, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. What she needed was a nice, long, hot bath. She hadn’t had a bath since before she had had her accident, she mused and it would be nice to soak in the tub for a while. Feeling less fractious already, Momiji grabbed her robe and headed for the bathroom.

She met Kusanagi in the hallway coming up the stairs on the way to his room, a plastic bag of ice cubes clutched to his forehead. Momiji briefly glared at him and then stuck her nose in the air as she silently sailed past him, missing the wicked smile on Kusanagi’s face as he watched her go into the bathroom.

Kusanagi slowly walked past the bathroom door, and his smile broadened. It was time for his little act of revenge to play itself out. He laughed softly to himself and went into his room to wait, greatly anticipating Momiji’s reaction when she discovered what he had done.

Damn Susano-oh to hell! Tamanasu stopped and looked around in the darkness, his red eyes glowing like hot coals. He was so close. He could feel it, but now that the sun had gone down, the temperature had fallen even faster. He had already made four kills, but it wasn’t enough, and even now he needed more energy.

Things would be so much simpler if he could just travel underground until he caught up with the child and its mother. But he could only track their scent above ground, and if they changed direction while he was below, he would have no way of knowing until he resurfaced, and then he would have lost precious time. Tamanasu hesitated, his desire to capture the child urging him onwards, but he knew that he could not catch them before his energy ran out. He was going to have to make another kill. But this time, he would look for a strong life stream.

The wind gusted against Tamanasu and he shivered as he located his next target. Knowing the general direction of his prey, he burrowed underground, trying to conserve his energy until he was close enough to make the kill. There were two of them, he saw with relish as he resurfaced; an adolescent boy and girl locked in a tight embrace. Tamanasu’s breath rattled in his throat as he laughed softly to himself. Their combined energy might be just the thing that would allow him to catch up to the child. He would have liked to have taken his time and savored each kill, he thought regretfully, but he was in a hurry.

With a running leap, he was on them, his arm stretching like elastic so that his claws pierced the boy’s chest and pinned him up against a tree as he grabbed the girl by her head and proceeded to feed of her soul’s energy. The boy wriggled, blood spilling from his mouth as he sought to free himself, but Tamanasu ignored him, caught up in the pulsating flow of the girl’s soul as its sweetness sang through his veins.

When he had savored the last of it, he carelessly discarded her. Her body landed at a crooked angle inches from his clawed toes, and Tamanasu turned his attention to the boy. He closed the distance between them, his claws still holding him against the tree. Tamanasu leaned his head near the boy’s face and saw the terror and despair well up in his eyes. An evil smile spread across Tamanasu’s face, his mitama glowing with renewed energy and his red eyes alight with his twisted pleasure.

"How pathetic you humans are; not even strong enough to defend those that are important to you" he sneered, his voice a death rattle in his throat. "Did it bother you to watch her die? Did you see how easily she succumbed to my power?" Tamanasu kept looking into the boy’s eyes, and he slowly reached up with his free hand and grabbed the boy’s head. "Time for you to die, and for me to gain ultimate power," his hissed, triumph coursing through him as the boy’s soul filled his veins.

Now he could close the distance between himself and the child, his strength at its maximum level. Tamanasu wasted no more time. He carelessly flung the boy next to the body of the girl and stretched his limbs, becoming more powerful. With a quick lunge he was off and running, barely noticing the cold wind as it buffeted past him. The scent was becoming stronger and he lowered his head to become even faster; a shadowed blur moving between the trees. It wouldn’t be long now.

Hikaru moaned loudly and doubled over in pain as another heavy labor pain grabbed her around the middle. Kaede stopped, her arm tightening around the girl to help support her, and she looked worriedly over her shoulder in the darkness. It was closing in. She could feel it, and they still had quite a ways to go before they reached the iwatto.

"Do you think you can keep going?" Kaede asked Hikaru as the pain passed and she slumped against Kaede.

"I- y-yes," Hikaru panted weakly, "yes, I think so."

They weren’t safe out in the open like this, Kaede fretted, even as she felt remorse wash through her at having to push Hikaru. But if they could make it to the iwatto, then Kaede’s powers would be maximized and she would be in a better position to defend Hikaru.

"I’m sorry, Hikaru," Kaede apologized softly, "I just want to try to keep you safe. It’s just a little farther now."

As the words left her mouth, Kaede felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and she let go of Hikaru, twisting around to see a shadow springing towards them.

"It’s here!" Kaede screamed.

She stepped in front of Hikaru, her palms facing out in front of her. The crystal mitama on her chest began to glow brightly, almost blindingly and a surge of white hot energy spiraled out from each of her hands, crisscrossing in front of her to form one stream. It struck the lunging shadow just inches from her body and illuminated Tamanasu as he was thrown backwards in a howl of pain.

He was briefly immobilized by the blast, the purity of Kaede’s energy eroding his power and strength. He cursed and writhed but was unable to free himself. He had failed again, he thought as darkness rapidly closed in on him, and the souls he had fed upon were freed from his mitama. But just before the last vestiges of his strength were wiped away, the onslaught abruptly ended.

He was still in the Over World, he realized numbly, his senses warping from weakness. Before he lost consciousness, he raised his head, his glowing, red-slitted eyes focusing with hatred on the dark headed woman with the crystal mitama. She must have been sent by Susano-oh to stop him, for her power was incredible. But Tamanasu allowed himself a triumphant smile. Despite her power, she hadn’t been able to drain all of his strength and send him back to the Withered Kingdom. That meant he could still accomplish what he had set out to do. You have not defeated me yet, came his last thought as darkness engulfed his consciousness.

Kaede stood panting and weak, completely drained for the moment as she stared at the still, deformed figure of the Tengugaki.

"Is it dead?" Hikaru asked her.

"No," Kaede replied breathlessly, catching Hikaru by the arm and moving her urgently away from it, "I can’t summon enough energy out here to kill it. That’s why we need to keep going," she explained "Not far from here is an iwatto similar to the one where you awoke. If we can make it there, I think I can destroy it. But we must hurry. It will regain consciousness shortly and be on the hunt for energy. We need to get to the iwatto before that happens."

Hikaru nodded her head and did her best to move swiftly, but still their progress was slower than Kaede would have liked, because of Hikaru’s frailty and the labor pains that were coming closer and closer together.

"My lord," Kaede whispered almost frantically, as they were forced to stop yet again, "is there nothing more that we can do?"

"Aaahhh," Momiji sighed blissfully as she wrapped her robe around her body and left the bathroom, a serene smile on her face.

What a good idea that had been, she told herself enthusiastically as she padded back to her bedroom. After a quick shower, she had climbed into a tub filled with bath salts and allowed herself a leisurely soak. Now her headache was gone and her body was completely relaxed.

She wasn’t even angry at Kusanagi anymore, she realized indulgently.

In fact, she was so relaxed that all she wanted to do was put her pajamas on, snuggle up in bed and go to sleep. Momiji took her robe off, slid her nightgown over her head, and then, humming softly to herself, opened the drawer to get a clean pair of underwear. Suddenly she stopped humming and her body stiffened as she stared disbelievingly down at the empty drawer. Quickly, she opened all the other drawers and rifled through them, but she couldn’t find a single pair.

Where were they? What could have possibly happened to? – and then she stopped in mid thought, her mouth tightening in fury as she realized exactly what had happened to them, or rather who had happened to them. Momiji spun on her heel and stomped out of her room.

"Kusanagi!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Kusanagi could plainly hear Momiji through his closed door, and a smile inched across his face. He quickly left the desk where he had been making some minor revisions to his portfolio and sprinted across the room. Grabbing up the bag of ice that he had left sitting on his pillow, he stretched out across his bed, plopping it on his forehead as he quickly closed his eyes. He opened them just seconds later when he heard his door crash violently against the wall and saw a very choleric Momiji standing in the doorway.

Kusanagi had a hard time containing the chuckle that threatened to burst forth as his eyes swept over her. Her face was scrunched up into a frown, her hands were fisted at her sides, and her eyebrows were drawn into a straight line over furiously sparkling, green eyes.

She was ire personified: a proud Valkyrie about to choose her next victim. Except that it was hard to take her seriously, dressed as she was in fluffy pink and grey kittens. Somehow, Kusanagi doubted very seriously that any real Valkyrie would be caught dead wearing kittens of any kind. And now that Kusanagi thought about it, Momiji looked more like the kittens she was wearing than a Valkyrie warrior anyway; soft and cuddly, but dangerous when riled.

Kusanagi quickly closed his eyes again despite his desire to keep looking at her, afraid that if he didn’t, his expression would give everything away.

Momiji steamed into the room and stopped just inside the doorway, making all kinds of angry noises as her eyes settled on the fully dressed figure of Kusanagi stretched out on his bed. His eyes were shut, she noted resentfully, and a bag of slushy ice was lying against his forehead. His position suggested that he didn’t feel well, but there was a slight smile tipping the corners of his mouth that told Momiji that he knew very well why she was here.

"Kusanagi!" she hissed through clenched teeth, chugging towards the bed.

If only she had her wooden spoon with her, she thought angrily. She would beat that smile right off his face! As it was, she was ready to tear into him with her bare hands.

Until she saw the picture he had placed in a frame sitting on the nightstand, that is. She looked at it, and stopped short, surprise momentarily displacing her anger.

It was the picture of her in the park with Puck. The same picture that she had found lying on the floor that morning when she had woken up in Kusanagi’s bed. He had snatched it away from her then, like he hadn’t wanted her to see it; and yet, here it was, sitting out in the open - and in a silver frame, no less.

Despite her surprise, Momiji winced as she gazed at it, hating the bedraggled way she looked, and she wondered why he would choose such a horrible picture to frame.

"Kusanagi?" she murmured, puzzled. All the anger was gone from her voice now, and Kusanagi cracked an inquisitive eye open to look at her. "That picture," she continued, pointing at the nightstand, "it’s such a - why were you? – I thought that you didn’t – that is, why would you want to frame that particular picture?"

He removed the bag of ice from his forehead and turned his head to cast a fleeting glance at the picture before shifting his eyes back to her. "That picture epitomizes you. It’s how I see you, Momiji."

"It is?" She was completely taken aback by his statement.

Momiji’s green eyes glazed over with dismay as she stared at her muddied appearance in the photograph. Was this truly how he saw her? All grubby and grimy; looking worse than a drowned rat? Ugghh! What a lowering thought!

"I didn’t realize that you thought of me like – that," she said in a rather depressed manner. "I really don’t know what to say," she mumbled dejectedly. "I didn’t realize how…unattractive… I must seem to you."

There was a short silence as Kusanagi looked from her glum face to the picture and back to her face again.

"Is that what you see, Momiji?" he asked somewhat quizzically, rolling over onto his side to better see the silver frame, trying to discern what it was that she saw.

He was studying it so carefully and with such intensity, that Momiji wondered exactly what he saw when he looked at it.

"You’re not unattractive in that picture, Momiji," he contradicted. "Although, I suppose you are pretty wet and dirty," he conceded in a considering way, "but that’s not really what I notice when I look at it," he told her, his gaze swinging back to her as he propped his elbow on his pillow and leaned his head against his hand.

Unaware of his gaze, Momiji glanced back at the picture and wondered how in the world he could not notice how unattractive and dirty she was. That’s all she was in this picture, she thought dispiritedly; ugly, wet and dirty. And the longer she looked at it, the worse she looked.

"Do you want to know what I see when I look at it?" he asked her softly but hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably as he studied her profile.

Momiji wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. Startled, she turned in his direction to find his cat-like eyes resting unwaveringly on her. It was plain to see that his own question had made him uneasy, for not only was it written in the wariness of his eyes, but it was also apparent in the stiffness of his expression.

Momiji hesitated before she answered, waiting for him to withdraw his offer, but he didn’t. He just continued to gaze at her, in an oddly tense sort of way, waiting for her to respond. And so Momiji mutely nodded her head, afraid that if she spoke, he might change his mind after all and decide not to tell her.

Kusanagi sat up restlessly and swung his feet over the side of the bed as his eyes slid back to the photograph. He reached out and, with a gloved hand, plucked it from the nightstand to stare down at it, so he wouldn’t have to look at Momiji.

"When I look at this picture, Momiji, I see many things," he told her quietly. "I see a child whose wonder at nature never ceases, and a girl whose green eyes reflect the depth of her kindness and gentleness. I also see a young woman who is always more than willing to spare a smile for others; even if she feels nothing but sorrow herself, and a human being who believes that even the lowliest of creatures is worth saving, regardless of the cost to her own well-being. But mostly what I see, is a princess who gives her heart too easily, willing to settle for imperfection, when she should have the world at her feet."

As he finished speaking a claustrophobic look crossed Kusanagi’s face, and his body tensed. He was not emotionally equipped to deal with the situation he had just put himself in and he wished he had never opened his mouth. He was feeling extremely exposed and somehow defenseless; having revealed some of his innermost thoughts that, as far as he was concerned, should have remained unspoken.

And now that the words were out, he found that all he wanted to do was deny them, feeling that his admission somehow made him weak; more susceptible to… to what? Being hurt? Feeling insecure?

They were novel feelings, and even as he struggled with them, Kusanagi knew that he had had no other choice. When he had seen that miserable look on Momiji’s face, he had found that he couldn’t maintain his silence. For his own comfort, he would never have told her, but for the sake of her happiness, he was willing to try and make her understand.

But, he thought to himself with a shaky grimace, if feeling like this was what it was like to try and make her happy, he didn’t know if he had the strength to do it.

Not that he had made a decision about giving up his obligation to maintain his distance, he hastily reminded himself. He still couldn’t decide whether or not he should maintain his old obligation, or if he should give in to his desire and allow himself to have her. But still, he refused to let his indecisiveness on the issue to be the cause of her unhappiness, and so he had tried to put into words, some of the thoughts that he had kept locked inside for so long.

Damn, but this was hard! he thought, still staring down at the picture to avoid looking at her. He needed to do something, he decided, feeling desperate, to draw her attention away from him. And then the solution became obvious as he remembered the reason that she was here, and his discomfort started to fade, anticipation taking its place.

The silence lengthened as Momiji just stared at Kusanagi, her mouth hanging open, flabbergasted. His words had touched her, made her somehow feel special, and yet she was reeling from what he had said, unused to such… intimacy of thought… from him. She watched him quietly put the picture back on the nightstand, his gaze lingering on it for a moment longer before he turned back to her. She noted an immediate change in him, his unease of the moment suddenly gone, replaced by an odd gleam in his eyes.

"Was there some reason you came in here to see me, Princess?" he asked with a quirk to his lips.

Kusanagi’s words jarred Momiji out of her dumbfounded state and she quivered with suppressed rage as she once again recalled the reason for her visit to his room.

"As a matter of fact, there is," she replied, a steely note creeping into her voice, "I want to know what you did with my – " she abruptly stopped, and her face flooded with color while Kusanagi watched with keen interest.

"Your what?" he inquired expectantly.

"My – my – my –" she stammered.

"Okay, I got that part," he informed her amusedly, "now I just need the rest of it to know what the heck you’re talking about."

Momiji made a frustrated noise and stomped her foot. "You know very well what I’m talking about, Mamoru Kusanagi!" she retorted accusingly, "I’m talking about my – my – my -"

"There you go again," he inserted before she finally managed to sputter out:

"MY PANTIES!!" she all but screamed at him, her chest heaving up and down in aggravation.

There was a long pause.

"You’re panties?" he echoed mildly, his eyebrows soaring, watching, with secret amusement, as her temper flared even higher.

"Yes, you fat-head! My pantiesr! There missing," she seethed, "as if you didn’t know. And I want to know what you did with them!" And when he didn’t say anything, she leaned forward, her hands balled into fists at her sides, and commanded, "Tell me – NOW!"

He just chuckled softly, his enjoyment of her discomfiture only adding fuel to her ire.

"What makes you think I did something with them, Princess?" he asked nonchalantly, stretching back out on the bed, his head cushioned against his pillow.

While he waited for her to answer, he casually crossed his legs, repositioned the bag of ice on his forehead, and closed his eyes once more

"Ggggrrrrr!" Momiji growled, grinding her teeth at his insouciance, wanting to beat him upside the head with his slushy bag of ice. "I know, you did something with them," she persisted petulantly.

She stalked closer to the bed, and still he didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even open his eyes and acknowledge her presence. He just lay there, with a sly little smile, apparently finding the entire situation highly entertaining.

But Momiji was far from feeling entertained. In fact, she had had more than enough. Swooping down on him, she snatched the ice off his forehead, planning on batting him over the head with it.

"Uh-uh-uh," he murmured lazily, one eye popping open as she got ready to swing the bag, "I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Especially if you want to find out what happened to your… panties."

Momiji froze in mid-swing and Kusanagi’s smile took on a cat-like quality, as he continued to toy with her.

Momiji let her arm drop to her side. "Okay," she replied quietly and with exaggerated calmness, "I’m won’t hit you."

"Good."

Kusanagi grinned and put his arms beneath his head as he watched her struggle to keep from exploding. Momiji closed her eyes and took several calming breaths and then opened them again to focus on Kusanagi. "So tell me, then," she muttered calmly, but through clenched teeth.

"Tell you what?" he asked just to infuriate her further and his gaze flipped to the ceiling.

"Kusanagi!!!!! "

"Okay, okay. I might be persuaded to tell you," he finally murmured, looking directly at her now, "if you go and get me some more ice." He pointed to the bag in her hand. "Most of what’s in there has melted."

Momiji shot him a suspicious look, and he gave her a provocative smile.

"But you don’t really need it," she complained, "most of the swelling is gone now."

"Do you want to know about your panties, or not, Princess?"

"Yes!"

"Well then –" he waved his hand at her, motioning her towards the door, "go and get me some ice."

Momiji spun around and huffed her way towards the door. When she reached it she stopped and slanted him a look over her shoulder. "This had better not be a trick!" she muttered.

As soon as she was gone, Kusanagi was up again. He moved with feline stealth across the room and out into the hallway, pausing at the top of the stairs to make sure that Momiji couldn’t see him before he slunk into her room. He needed to do one more thing to make this the perfect plan, he thought, moving purposefully towards the hamper where Momiji kept her dirty clothes.

Unaware of Kusanagi’s machinations, Momiji went down to the kitchen and dumped the slushy ice out into the sink. With hurried motions, she went over to the refrigerator, opened up the ice box and began scooping ice cubes out of the dispenser. As she hastily shoved the cubes into the bag, filling it full, her eyes flitted absently over the contents in the freezer before swinging the door closed again.

Her attention was completely focused on returning to Kusanagie’s room and she turned to go upstairs. She made it half way across the kitchen before she suddenly jerked to a stop, what she had seen in the ice box finally registering. Stunned, she turned and slowly re-crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. With a yank, she pulled the freezer door open, her green eyes going immediately to a mountainous blob sitting at the bottom. With a gasp, she dropped the bag of ice she was carrying and went to her knees.

"That…that…BONEHEAD!" she muttered furiously to herself.

Not only had he put her panties in the freezer, but he had wet them before putting them in there, so that they were now a solid block of ice. Momiji’s mouth thinned into an angry line, as she wrapped her fingers around the mound of panties and began tugging with all her might.

"H-H-rr-aa-hhh-gg!" she grunted, straining to pull them free, and let out a surprised squeak when they suddenly came loose.

Momiji bounced backwards, skidding across the floor, and lost her grip on the giant cube of panties at the same time as she put her hands out to maintain her balance. They fell to the floor with a sharp snapping noise and the large block broke apart into smaller chunks. Momiji scuttled forward on her hands and knees and picked them up. Once she had them all, she dumped them in the sink and turned the water on, trying to thaw them out.

After a few minutes she shut the water off and picked up a pair of frigid, soggy panties with little bunnies on them, staring mournfully at them. She couldn’t wear any of these, she thought. It was late, and she was tired and even if she put them in the dryer now, there was no telling how long it would take them to thaw out and dry.

What was she going to do now? she asked herself, and then her fingers tightened around the limp bunnies in her hand. She knew exactly what she was going to do, she thought, her spine stiffening as she marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She was going to make Kusanagi pay for what he had done! That was what she was going to do!

But first, she told herself as she veered towards her own room, she was going to get the panties that she had taken off before her shower and put them on. That way, she wouldn’t be left feeling quite so… drafty and exposed. Momiji scurried over to the hamper and reached inside, an arrested expression crossing her face. She leaned over even further, swishing her arm around inside, and came up with the same results. It was empty. Momiji’s green eyes widened in alarm.

"They’re gone!" she breathed incredulously, "how could they be? –"

She snapped her mouth shut. Of course they were gone. Kusanagi would have confiscated those as well. Oh, he must think he’s so clever, Momiji fumed silently. Well, he wasn’t going to get away with this!

Kusanagi heard Momiji come into his room and he fought to keep the smile off his face. She was so angry with him, and yet she looked so adorable. He had resumed his reclining position long before she had returned uptstairs, his hands beneath his head as he lazily watched her stalk over to him, a pout firmly entrenched on her face.

"You forgot my ice cubes, Princess," he pointed out in his most provoking manner.

"Here," Momiji retorted caustically, "you can use these instead!"

The next thing he knew, she had flung something at him and it smacked him squarely across the face. He felt a stinging cold cut across his face and his vision was suddenly obscured by what he concluded was most likely a pair of her frozen panties. Moving casually, he reached up with long fingers, grabbed the soggy cold wetness, and lifted it from his face, looking at it as he did so. He transferred his gaze to Momiji’s furious demeanor then and gave her a wicked grin.

"I see you found them." he chuckled.

"You – you –" Momiji sputtered incoherently.

"I told you I would have my revenge for when I was sick, Princess. You really shouldn’t be all that surprised."

"You- you – you beast! – you – you- give me! - I want! - " she babbled furiously and his grin widened.

"Are you trying to tell me that you want these?" he asked holding out the pair of panties that he had stolen from the hamper.

Momiji’s mouth tightened and she lunged for them, but much to her frustration Kusanagi put them out of her reach by tucking them beneath his body.

"I don’t think so, Princess," he shook his head and continued, "since this is my plot for revenge, returning what I have worked so hard to obtain is not only insane, but also out of the question."

Momiji shifted agitatedly from one foot to the other. She guessed she could go without wearing them until morning, but she would much rather not have to. She had never slept without her panties before, and the thought was not really all that appealing. Maybe if she tried changing her tactics, she could get them back.

"Come on, Kusanagi," she wheedled, "you’ve had you’re fun, now give them back."

She held her hand out expectantly but he just shook his head, a smug smile stretched across his lips. She was getting alarmed now. She really wanted them back.

"But, Kusanagi,: she hastily blurted out without thinking, "if you don’t give them to me, I won’t have any – " She abruptly stopped, feeling humiliated.

"To wear?" he asked, picking up where she left off. "Of course you will," he assured her, reaching beneath his pillow to deliver his coup de grâce.

Momiji just stared motionless at the flimsy pink silk grasped between Kusanagi’s gloved fingers and felt her ears start to burn.

"Well," he prompted, "aren’t you going to take them?"

"A- a thong?" she managed to choke out, "you want me to wear a thong?"

"Sure, why not?" he replied lazily, twirling the thong around on the end of his finger, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

"I – I can’t wear those!" she informed him in no uncertain terms.

Kusanagi’s face fell in exaggerated disappointment. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Because…" Momiji thought furiously and the only thing she could come up with was a mumbled, "because they’ll…chafe."

Kusanagi tried. He really did. But he couldn’t keep the hilarious laughter from bursting out. He laughed and laughed until he could feel tears starting to his eyes, and then he lifted his hand and used the thong to wipe his eyes.

"Chafe?" he replied still chucking, "really, Princess! Can’t you come up with something better than that?"

Momiji just scowled at him. "No," she replied shortly, "and you don’t really expect me to wear them now that you’ve rubbed your face all over them, do you?"

Kusanagi smiled indulgently at her. "I didn’t expect you to wear them at all, Momiji," he told her, "I knew that you wouldn’t want to wear them, but" he heaved a breezy sigh and looked at the soft pink silk before letting his gaze slide slyly back to her, "when I saw them, I couldn’t help but think how… perfect… they would look on you."

Perfect? Momiji looked away and fidgeted shyly as her fingers wrapped themselves in the soft folds of her gown, unsure of how exactly she should respond to him. She knew he was teasing her, but there was a part of her that couldn’t help but wish that he was serious.

And just what would you do if he was serious? A little voice inside her head asked. Turn tail and run, probably, she thought ironically.

"Oh well," Kusanagi murmured resignedly, breaking into her thoughts, "I guess it’s a good thing that I bought these then," he told her as he whipped out a plain white pair of silk panties with a little pink bow on the front. "You see, despite my need for revenge, I didn’t truly wish you to suffer – at least not that much," he added softly.

He held them out and she reached for them but at the last minute he snatched them away again, not yet done with his game.

"Uh-uh. I’m afraid it’s not that easy. First you’re going to have to ask me nicely for them."

Momiji reared back and glared at him. "Why should I have to ask you nicely for them when you froze all of my other ones solid!?"

"Okay," he told her unrelentingly, "if you don’t want them, I’ll just put them right under here." He slid them beneath his pillow and folded his arms over his chest. "They’re staying put until you ask me nicely for them."

Momiji responded by poking him in the side with her finger and demanding imperiously. "Give them to me!"

Kusanagi grunted at the pressure from the sudden thrust to his side, but remained unmoving

"Say please," he commanded in a silky way.

"NO!"

"Then you’re not getting them, Princess. But here," he said and he flung the silk thong at her, "you can have these instead."

The thong hit Momiji softly in the nose before fluttering to the floor like a large, pink butterfly where, with a glare, she watched it land.