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File 159357721253.png - (2.99MB, 2891x917, libita victis.png)
libita victis
Exhibitionism, emotionless chikan, and quite a lot of sex, perpetrated by a mysteriously innocuous and rather muscular, clockmaking man. Main characters: Shinmyoumaru and Seija, and manipulated somewhat by Matara Okina, but our protagonist is most interested in Eiki-sama. And, really, whichever girls he happens to come across.

Thread 1 >>40336

Current vote:


And so we reach a pier, and step off (Satori awkwardly, as she is still very flustered and has yet to pull back up her panties).

“Man, you guys got intense back there!” Onozuka-san says with a laugh while minding her vessel from the pier. “You gonna have sex?” she asks.

“Would you like to join us?” I ask.

“Hmm...?” Komachi hums, looking me up and down, judging to herself. “You look nice. Sure, I’ll hit your dick.”

“Lovely,” I say, while looking down at Satori whose balance I’m still maintaining. She’s very much out of it... “Although...”

“What? You need a place to do it in? We can bang at my place. Now that I’m off the boat I can close the distance in a flash,” says the Shinigami. Right... that was something they could do, I’ve heard. “That said,” she continues, now that she’s oriented the boat toward the opposite shore. “You want me to head back and pick up the other two first? We could make this really fun, and you look like you’ve got enough stamina to handle it.”

Ah... right, Shinmyoumaru and Seija.

Well, there’s a lot to consider with that. Waiting... Satori maybe coming to her senses... perhaps Shinmyoumaru could get crushed amidst bodies...

But it’s Shinmyoumaru sex again, and we’re in a land of oni so maybe she could grow bigger and we could have sex properly... Wait, really? Can I?

Ah, but, the wait time and the complications of a five-person fuck, hmmmm... Shimi might rather I leave that for a more private moment between just us, too..

How about—


[2] “Let’s head to your place now. They can wait and as you can see, I
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>>41104
this is indeed me, btw
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That was a comfy ride. Thanks, friend!
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Really enjoyed following this one. Thanks for all the effort. Even though it had some long breaks in between I'm glad you were able to finish it.

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__kirisame_marisa_touhou_drawn_by_yohane__9f79714d
Quasi-sequel to: >>41058
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Another excellent story, Yaf. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy (amongst other things). Not a huge far of the word 'stud' in this context (feels a bit too forced for me), but otherwise, I'm plenty happy with Marisa's speech.

I'll be looking forward to whatever you put out next, but I won't lie, I've a bit of a yearning for something on the longer side. Or even the safer-for-places-of-work side. You know, if that's still your style.
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>>41089
“Stud” is a reference and a personal inside joke. Imagine, every time it appears in the text, I am chortling like a cock over my rainbow-hued RGB keyboard.

As for long-form stories… those are a bit out of my reach at the present. There are weeks I can comfortably chip away at a piece of text, and then there are weeks I am little more than a worn, human grocery bag in after-work evenings. Consistent output would be a problem, and my abysmal memory would exacerbate the difficulties of planning ahead and execution. Sorry.

… Safer-for-work stories are a possibility, but the plain truth is, I simply have no good enough ideas to warrant realisation, while pornographic content is a unique exercise that lets me flex both kinds of metaphorical muscles. I’ve been entertaining the idea of Grassinterlewds with a little relationship exploration and little to no explicit smut since somebody complained about it in the sequel, but… let’s just say, there are many redheads, and only so many evenings the creative juices move on. It’s a solid maybe.

Now, why I would squander those on a non-redhead, blond witch I do not even particularly care for, and not even for the first time, is anybody’s guess. I sure as heckle don’t know.
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>>41090
>chortling like a cock
Might wanna have that looked at. I hear a certain mansion has a nurse who'd gladly do so...

>rainbow-hued RGB keyboard
Chimata's gaudy rainbow pantsu when

>Consistent output would be a problem
Ain't it always? We're primed to expect that by now. At the very least, you're not about to hear me whinging.

>the difficulties of planning ahead
Mate, I'm a terribad, slow, and inconsistent writer, but even I can spend a month writing out the entirety of a plot in notes to follow later.

>no good enough ideas
>a little relationship exploration
That's not a good enough idea? I don't mind a bit of non-lewd expansion of your lewds. Even if I don't always agree with them, your characterisations leave plenty of ground to tread.

>since somebody complained
Hey, now, my only point was that the smut, like the majority of smut, didn't resonate with me. Doesn't mean I disliked the piece as a whole; I'd not have said anything in that case.

>a non-redhead, blond witch I do not even particularly care for
Dunno, but I don't care much for her either, and yet you made me care long enough for this.

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shizuwipeout
Thread 1: >>38360
Thread 2: >>39475

[x] Find a restraint to ambush Shizuha with.

You twist around and look through a nearby crate, finding… belts. A huge pile of belts mixed with thin, wooden blocks and small widgets. You find some of the belts long, some short, some with, wait a second. Some are very short. Far too small for her waist. Too small even for a fairy’s waist.

What on earth…

Shizuha takes her first step up the ladder. Forget the belts, you need-

Those smaller ones might just fit around her wrists. If that’s so…

No time to think. You reach in, scoop out a large handful, and leap toward the ladder. Shizuha flinches as you dump them beside that ladder.

“What the…”

She turns her head sideways just as you grip her ankle and tug. She clings for a second. You tug again, tearing her free.

There’s a moment of slow, dawning realization, just before she crashes into the wood before you.

Groaning, she starts to pick herself up. Panicking, you reach into the pile and pull one of the smaller belts out. Dropping to your knees, you swing it around her exposed ankles and bind them together, buckling it tight.

“Wh- the hell?” She kicks out, half-groggy. You lean to the side, avoiding her feet just as she throws a hand out, firing out a small cluster of yellow bullets . She plants her hands under herself, pushing herself sluggishly upward.

Snagging another, wider belt, you throw it over her back. Another sloppy, wild volley launches out from her, forcing you to lurch to the side. The moment it’s gone, you drop yourself atop her back, knocking her back down.

“Who the fuck? How did you get out?”

You grunt, pulling the belt around her left arm, then around her torso. She flails, kicking the ground. You feel a burning pop as something st
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And, that is that. It's been quite a ride. I feel like I've made many mistakes, both big and small, over the course of this story, but I learned a lot. In particular, I feel like I've often been far more distant to many of you than I could have been, and I probably could have afforded to be clearer about what some routes meant, or more carefully considered where some should (or should not) have went.

I'd still love to write a few alternate endings but, sadly, I've since found several other projects calling to me. Most likely, I won't find the time for them anymore (almost certainly, it won't be very soon). I wish to apologize for that, and to thank everyone who took the time to vote, to comment, or even just to read this story. Despite its rough edges, it's the first major writing project I'd ever gotten off the ground and as a result, will probably hold a special place in my heart for quite a while.

For everyone with the patience to put up with my mistakes, even briefly, and to still find something they enjoyed here, thank you.
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>>41077
Thanks for finishing the story. It's been a fun ride. I wasn't the best of voters but you did a good job pushing forward and doing something that was pretty different to the other stories. Good luck if you try something new and thanks.
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Thank you for writing this story, it was truly a joy to follow its progress over the last couple of years. Looking forward to reading any future works from you, and good luck!

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Komano Aunn contended not to moan. Once that fell through, she applied herself to, in the worst event, not be heard by Miss Reimu.

The day was very fine, to Aunn’s good fortune, for such undertakings, as the shrine maiden had taken it to spend around her husband in the Human Village. The wind-chime was tinkling above the shrine’s porch, which eased the matters some; and, omitted though she had to mention when precisely she’d planned her return, Aunn had heeled long enough at Miss Reimu’s side to scent it when the shrine maiden needed most a moment of respite from her duties. The fact of her husband, an able carpenter of some renown, living by necessity among his kin in town, married to Miss Reimu by must manning the faraway Hakurei shrine, presented just so apt an opportunity. The shrine then, by way of course, falling under Aunn’s dogged vigil.

Some gossiped, contingent on whether the fierce Hakurei shrine maiden was nearby or not, that either she or her husband showcased in this fashion the troubledness of their marriage. Aunn knew of nothing farther from the truth. Miss Reimu’s was a pliant soul; distance was its least foe.

“We’ll at least not grow bored of each other soon, yes?” she’d said once when pressed, in that come-what-may attitude she had.

Aunn leaned harder on the ever-empty offertory box, knees wobbling beneath the weight of her own, stuck-out butt. A whine fled her clamped throat, of a like which would’ve made Miss Reimu’s cheeks burn pink and her husband’s knuckles to go white.

Yet she did love the stolid carpenter, did the eremite shrine maiden. She’d loved him enough to have given him a single, precious child; and now, a sea’s worth of water under the bridge, she loved him still enough that she sought his solitary affection on especially fraught weeks.

Which left the remaining two dearest mainstays of Miss Reimu’s life in Aunn’s custody.

Aunn dared a peek over her shoulder. The strapping youth at her back perked up and gave her a perfunctory smile, which was more preoccupied than those seen as a rule on those his age. His head was full of hair: blackish-brown like his mother’s and, while short-ch
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>>41061
>his own mother
I've come to believe people don't appreciate incest in their porn the same way I do. So that's a no.
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>>41064
Incest is relative.
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>>41061
Next you'll tell me he's being eaten by a grue.

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File 160430600740.png - (647.61KB, 743x728, aki minoriko and aki shizuha (touhou) drawn by aki.png)
aki minoriko and aki shizuha (touhou) drawn by aki
The past few months have been... eventful. And that’s before getting spirited away to a magical valley in Japan that I’d describe as charming if it weren’t for the large number of residents with terrifying amounts of power.

But I’d rather not dwell on the past. Arriving in Gensokyo, even unexpectedly, was probably the best thing that’s happened to me since... well, maybe my entire life. I understand that this isn’t the case for most other humans who stumble here, but I had something of a head start.

I had always known that the supernatural was real. I had always been able to see what nobody else could. Before, all it got me was confusion, scorn, and pity, endless appointments with doctors and psychiatrists, and everyone telling me that spirits weren’t real.

Now, here in Gensokyo? They asked me to marry two of them. I said yes, of course.

Eventful doesn’t even begin to describe things.

---

It’s just past dawn on this muted early winter day when I stir awake. Somehow, this small thing still amazes me about my new life. It’s not just waking up early, though that would be unimaginable before. It’s having things I look forward to waking up for.

Two things, in fact, and they’re both still asleep on either side of me. Minoriko and Shizuha Aki: sisters, kami, and my wives.

Minoriko, the younger sister, has practically swaddled herself in her covers to ward off the growing chill. Meanwhile, Shizuha is clutching my arm more tightly than usual. Well, winter has always been an unpleasant time for them.

Both of them are still fast asleep, and I take care not to wake them as I stand up and begin morning rituals. So, I extricate myself from between them, carefully wash myself with water and salt, brush my teeth and floss, and head to the kitchen.

First, I light the hearth. I wash a cup of rice before setting it to cook, then prepare pickles, cucumber slices, apple slices (for Minoriko), honeyed umeboshi (for Shizuha), grilled fish (for me), and miso soup in the meantime.

I’m in the middle of sipping a spoonful of soup to test it when I hear
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[x] Read more about shamanic rituals. Tantric sex appears to be involved.
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[X ] Read more about shamanic rituals. Tantric sex appears to be involved.

It is the duty of the priest of a shrine to ensure all the necessary rituals are carried out, after all
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[X] Model for Shizuha’s painting. She might request you be nude for it.

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63672730_p0
Sequel to: >>40945
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Beautiful work. Kage needs another creampie though
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Well, it's a harem story deep down, but at least some thought goes into the relationships involved here.

Kinda wish there'd been a bit more of a break from the lewd in the ending. Hard to explain why. Just would've been more interesting to me, personally.

Anyway, good job on a shitload of words.
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>>41050
Took way too long to wrap up, though.
>>41051
Well, there was a vote, yanno?
>>41052
>it's a harem story deep down
Yeah. Kagerou's.
>but at least some thought goes into the relationships involved here.
Somebody complained they felt ambivalent about the dude's presence, so I put in an effort to make him slot in at least a little bit better. Glad it shines through.
>Kinda wish there'd been a bit more of a break from the lewd in the ending.
I do get ya, but the title kind of obligates me, yanno?

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ElfW27vVMAACFGJ
The Grassroots Network codex was simple. There was but one law. No breaches of faith. For transgressing this, the junior member, Sekibanki, was presently being punished.

Kagerou Imaizumi, chairperson, lashed the birch across the offending redhead’s ass. A whimpered yip stirred the lakeside mists. The new welt on Sekibanki’s ample tush couldn’t redden to full ahead her survivor pride had throttled the sound. The same pride had no notice for Sekibanki’s disrobed skirt or the sexy, black panties dangling from one of her ankles. Kagerou brought the sapling lash back up. At a nod from the human restraining Sekibanki from the front, she brought it down.

Crack. Whimper. Moan. And then, wet squelching from where the human administered his half of the penalty. The freshest inductee (temporary) to the Grassroots spared the redhead no dignity. Sekibanki twisted and wormed in his arms. As the rest of him, they were implacable.

Suddenly. That was how the betrayal of trust had come. The senior Grassroots – Kagerou and Wakasagihime – had too late heard it fording the reeds concealing their lakeside hangout. The rice moonshine of Kagerou’s yesteryear stock may have chipped something in as well. They very near spat out their spirits when the reeds ejected into the clearing a live, human male of rather a shoulder-laden persuasion. Who won out that impromptu contest of courage was an easy tell. Sekibanki did. The redhead rokurokubi waved in their guest… or at least she did the bamboo coffer strapped to his back… explaining, in that offhand way she had, it’d been an order of delicacies from the Human Village.

“—with the Hieda, ‘S what we do,” confirmed the deliverer, just as Kagerou blinked away the shock. With Sekibanki’s go-ahead, he shrugged out of the luggage and approached to disburse the goods onto the Grassroots’ laps.

And even if there would be treats in there to treasure – Kagerou espied for one a flask of what must be a very well-aged plum wine – none may beguile the coolest head in their bunch. Or maybe, having no lap, Wakasagihime hadn’t been enough convinced by the gifts being arrayed before her on the sh
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As an aspiring writer of lewdity myself, your ability to write is nothing short of poetry. Lewd, depraved poetry, but poetry nonetheless.
Excellent content, I was pushing for the Banki route in your CYOA, though no one else seemed to be pushing with me, so I'm glad I got to have my cake and eat it too.
I cannot wait to see what you do next.
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I'm so glad that the Grassroots Youkai Network is still popular enough to get amazing writing like this.
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Always great to see more of your stuff, goddamn. The lewd is, as always, incredible, but even the "normal" stuff is a terrific read.

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pursuethisgrue
Rumia was definitely being raped.

The night was calm – a moon like a plump, toothsome dango aloft in the blackness. Scents of spring grew thick in the forest, a night breeze making the trees wave their branches, excited to waken again. And if you thought trees couldn’t wave, you hadn’t flown around the things on a windy night. On that forest’s floor, on the soft, mossy ground where small game made its home and bigger game licked its chops, a human lay relaxed, straddled by the petite youkai of darkness.

A rod of terrible girth was gripped in a fist, readied for a strike should Rumia but make a fist herself. And even with its top thrown wide open and the trousers skinned down to the man’s ankles, Rumia recognised the star-adorned robes of religious power. The man, possessed of some years and such grit as she could tell, was just that, too. An onmyouji: a fixer of all things strange, youkai chief among them. A man of either prodigious skill or long, long expertise.

Rumia didn’t need her current position or the tingly fullness inside her belly to tell; the solid trouncing she had received in the previous half-hour spoke loudly enough. Last night must have been bad. Not that she knew how or why.

Humans acted truly perplexing in the best of times and seemed to spend their entire lives that way. A gaggle of hollering men and crying women had looked such easy prey. Turned out they hadn’t been, all scattering at the mere hint of the skulking darkness. Moreover, they turned out to not be of a mind to let sleeping fears lie.

Not a sundown later, the exorcist’s long silhouette stretched into view; to snare the little youkai’s home turf must have been mere minutes. Out she had crept to prowl the night’s purple shadows and he was already on her.

The duel must have been vicious. Rumia couldn’t vouch it had been, on account she had been blinded throughout every bit but the final one. And once she had lain, beaten, staring down the rod’s pointed end, now recognising it as a purifying tree
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>>40803
>>40818
As the guy who edited and posted the story, it's not a point I necessarily like myself. I didn't change it because I a) didn't want to make drastic changes plot-wise and b) ran out of steam after rewriting some of the early bits. Really, the whole set-up wasn't my deal, but it had a grue and the actual writer made an interesting (if slightly risky) proposal.
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>>40913
What did he mean by this?

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Thought I should spread the word that this gem is being translated on 8ch. I'd recommend scrolling to the bottom of the thread to find the most recent translation
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>>38084
oh nevermind that was the dead thread
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8ch.net/hgg/res/30412.html

Newest thread

Id recommend searching 'era games' in the /hgg/ catalog to find newest threads in the future.
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I feel I should note that EraTW is now being translated.

EraMegaten and EraGVT, non touhou related, are also being translated.

EraGeneral is the thread to check on 8chan /hgg/ if youre interested in giving it a go or helping out in the translation effort.

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Keiki Haniyasushin, Sculptor Goddess of Creation, was in high spirits. She swept through the smooth hi-tech passages of her new garden with a spring in her step that her aloof, regal bearing couldn't quite hide, her long azure hair bouncing girlishly as she went. Haniwa armsmen scattered at the sight of her, sketching brief bows and curtsies before skittering back into the shadows. Their goddess was a strange woman; fey and unpredictable, her mind seemingly unable to settle on any one thing for long. She treated her subjects well—very well, as those lucky enough to catch her interest could attest—, but stories of the woman's temper hung around her like a cloud. No matter how polite she acted outwardly, Keiki was above else a deity of prodigious power, and only her closest underlings viewed her without a seed of unease in their hearts.

And that, Keiki thought as a pair of diminutive clay statuettes scuttled out of her way, was as it should be. The duo had been in the process of stripping away the wild, untamed vegetation of old and replacing it with new trappings more suited to her tastes. One, wobbling at the top of a stepladder and already overburdened by the vast heap of bright tapestries in its arms, stepped back a hair too quickly and overbalanced. Keiki clicked her tongue in annoyance, the thin shriek as the haniwa fell cutting into her thoughts like a knife. She turned and snapped her fingers, catching the animated effigy with a cushion of divine wind and lowering it gently to the ground.

“Careful now,” she said. “I understand that few can control themselves when faced with my divine beauty, but perhaps next time, you might," she placed a long, calloused finger on the top of the haniwa's cap and gently pushed it down, "avert your eyes? It would be a shame if I were forced to... rebuild you.”

The little statue bowed nervously and hurriedly collected the pile of metallic sheets it had dropped. Behind it, its companion fiddled nervously with its own burden: colorful neon lights in appropriately futuristic shades of blue and red, mattresses etched with modern-looking circuitry and towers of weird artifacts to decorate them. Several weeks ago, the
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Yes, that was it. He was like an artist’s impression of a crossbreed, depicting something imagined but never seen. Beautiful in its own way; the rich, deep hazel of his skin, the sleek lines of his horned skull, the powerful tension in his raw muscles. She imagined the way he might move; a tall, proud step, befitting a great, hulking mythical beast. Her thoughts drifted, other images flitting through her imagination. Hot, slick flesh and smooth bone against her skin, a thick tongue against her intimacies, the satisfaction of gently teaching him to appease her needs… Needs which were growing quite real. A familiar restlessness was settling upon her, an irresistible urge to act upon her endless curiosity. Keiki felt the first pangs of genuine arousal forming inside her, firing her imagination. She saw Taisho in her mind's eye, the body she would sculpt for him hunched over hers, her back arched and her derriere raised up as he rutted at her in a union of beauty and adoration. The goddess found herself drifting closer, caressing Taisho's jawbone, her fingers running along the tendons that bound it together. Thin strings of drool stretched from his languid tongue, pattering against her arm. She let out a long, low sigh, her skin tingling as she imagined herself sat in her throne, Taisho lying next to her like a faithful mascot, ready to trample and gore on whichever poor fool next dared to oppose her. The beast hung still in his restraints. She could feel his ebony eyes on her, running across the subtle curves of her slender body, trying to look past the apron and intricately decorated robes that hid her homely figure from his gaze. Keiki had seen that same look from her previous captives, and she knew she had Taisho right where she wanted him. When confusion and suspicion warred with desire and temptation, the latter always won out.

“Toutetsu isn't the only one who can grant you a body. I can do that and more.” Keiki's hand slid down Taisho's body, over his slick, throbbing musculature. His jaws clacked. She felt his thin fur over her fingers giving way to raw skin, and kept going lower, until her fingers came to rest on the lumpen bulge growing between his legs. Her hear
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straponmami
Crickets and shadow smothered the village’s evening streets. Sweat beaded on her knuckles, invited in part from the warm, muggy air. But the real reason for the moisture on her skin was, well…

It was the same one that kept her fist paralyzed, just before the humble home’s door.

Kosuzu gulped. This, this was it. Too many possibilities for her to process laid on the other side.

Possibilities hotter and wetter than the air. But also… possibilities much darker than the dimming sky.

Whatever she did here, she’d need to be back in her bookstore the next morning.

Early the next morning. Not for fear of her family’s response, nor for the health of their business.

No. If she showed up too late, her stick-in-the-mud friend would know. If her friend knew, she’d suspect. If her friend suspected her, she might not be able to come back.

And worse, she may even lose everything she’d built this all on.

Her friend-Akyuu-had to be kept in the dark, no matter what.

No. She shook her head, bells jingling. It’d be fine. The woman on the other side of this door would know and understand. That beautiful, wise, and downright intoxicating woman would help her. She’d provide all the help she could ask for.

But, but…

Before any of that mattered, Kosuzu would have to knock. Or to announce her presence. Or something.

Instead, after all the countless minutes she’d already spent, that hand remained frozen, her lips sealed shut.

She couldn’t, she just couldn’t…

This precious opportunity would be snuffed out before her eyes as the sun set and she’d-

Tap, tap.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but her knuckles struck the door. Even those quiet noises thrust the poor girl’s heart to her throat.

But as the noises faded, echoing into the night, nothing followed. Her beating heart stilled.

She breathed
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