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Inside the small apartment bathroom, where a thin layer of water still blanketed the tiled floor, two figures sat together in the bathtub, locked in each other's arms.
Though it was her first time, Nagisa hadn't been nearly as flustered as she'd imagined. In fact, aside from a bit of early awkwardness, she'd handled everything surprisingly well.
Perhaps it was her new vampiric physiology, or maybe it was just how well her petite frame synced with Bokue's relentless pace. Whatever the case—she'd kept up beautifully.
Shifting slightly in his lap, Nagisa adjusted her posture and nuzzled closer into Bokue's chest. Her soft pink lips curled gently as she exhaled a faint puff of warm mist.
Tilting her head upward, her pale cheeks tinged rosy, those crimson eyes now clouded with post-bath haze.
"Hey… can I ask you something, Big Bro?"
She still sounded a little shy—but after everything they'd just done, all the lines they'd both obliterated, she was at least much more comfortable speaking her heart.
Bokue replied casually, using a warm towel to gently wipe down the smooth skin of her back.
Nagisa was the sensitive type—and maybe because she was still riding the afterglow of their mountain-top "training"—her delicate skin flushed pink instantly with every pass of the cloth. The damp heat only made her look even more tantalizing.
Swallowing nervously, she bit her lip and finally asked:
"I just… I want to know—how do you feel about me, Big Bro? Do you… do you like me?"
"Yeah. I like you quite a bit."
Bokue's answer was immediate and relaxed. He tightened his arm slightly around her waist, steadying her position as he continued,
"You kind of remind me of my little sister, actually. She's about your age. Still going to school back in Kyoto—"
"I knew it! Classic f*ckboy line!"
Before he could finish, Nagisa abruptly popped up from his lap, eyes flashing dangerously.
Without warning, she struck out with a single accusing finger and pointed it right between his eyes.
"That's the exact kind of thing every dirtbag says when they're trying to weasel out of commitment! 'You're like a sister to me'—right?! You totally just hit me with that cliché, didn't you?!"
"It's not like that!"
Bokue blinked and let out a sigh, rolling his eyes in disbelief.
"I was just stating a fact, that's all. Anyway—more importantly, how's your body holding up?"
"Mmm, I feel totally fine~"
To prove it, the little vampire straightened her back and boldly sank her hips a bit deeper in his lap—deliberately.
As expected, that slight movement popped the proverbial cork a bit further open—unsealing something that was already, let's say… precariously ajar.
Nagisa tilted her head and added sweetly,
"Honestly, if it were the old me, I'd have been collapsed into pieces after all that. But thanks to this Fourth Progenitor body, my stamina's way higher than it used to be."
Before awakening her powers, Nagisa's physical constitution had been weak. Worryingly so. Due to Avrora's latent influence, she often fainted at school for seemingly no reason—waking up, like always, to the familiar ceiling of a hospital room.
"By the way, what about your demonophobia?" Bokue asked.
That was one of the more peculiar issues. Nagisa had developed a crippling fear of demons after being attacked by the Black Death Emperor during her childhood. It had been so severe that merely encountering a hostile demon would send her into a breakdown or berserk rage.
But now… she was technically a demon herself. The Fourth Progenitor, no less.
"That… I'm not really sure."
She tilted her head thoughtfully, brow furrowed.
"Maybe I'll have to wait until I meet an actual demon to know for sure?"
"In that case, why don't you just move away from Itogami Island entirely?" Bokue deadpanned. "Seriously, how does someone with demon-induced PTSD end up living in the demon capital of the world? What were your parents thinking?"
"Well, I wouldn't blame Mom entirely…"
Nagisa shook her head gently.
"She's a senior researcher at MAR, the Magna Ataraxia Research. She stayed on the island because they have the best facilities to figure out how to extract Avrora's power from my body, so we can become separate again. Leaving would've meant giving that up."
"…And your dad?" Thɪs chapter is updated by novel⟡fire.net
"They divorced four years ago."
Nagisa sighed softly, the teasing edge in her voice fading. She loosened the arms that had been wrapped around his neck and instead wrapped them around herself—pressing her modest chest against his firm body.
"It happened right after the Gozu Island incident. Mom and Dad had a huge fight over it, and afterward, he just left. I haven't seen him since."
She gave a faint, bitter laugh.
"He's probably still off somewhere on an archaeological expedition. He never even looked back. It's been four years."
Bokue stared at her in silence for a moment.
What kind of bastard walks out on a wife and kid after a trauma like that?
"Ah—water's cooling down."
Nagisa's voice broke the melancholy spell hanging in the room. She patted Bokue's back gently from behind.
Unfortunately, her apartment wasn't exactly top of the line—no auto-heated tub or temperature control here. With the two of them tangled up in a long, sweaty "workout" for the last two hours, the bathwater had long lost its warmth.
"Alright, I'll help you get out."
Bokue started to shift forward to lift her out of the tub.
But the moment he moved, Nagisa clung tighter—refusing to let go.
Her bright red eyes looked up at him, and a faint, sweetly seductive voice slipped from her lips like a melted strawberry candy.
"It's fine… We don't need to dry off. Just wrap up in a towel, and then… let's go back to the bedroom and keep going…"
She trailed off, too shy to finish the sentence—but Bokue got the message loud and clear.
Without a word, he lifted her into his arms, her petite figure perfectly curled against him. Still half-soaked, the two stepped out of the tub and onto the wet bathroom floor.
With a swift motion, he grabbed a large towel from the rack, wrapped it around them both, and carried her out into the apartment's small living room.
Then, turning the corner, he headed straight for the bedroom.
Seconds later, the door clicked shut behind them.
What followed was a cacophony of sounds—so loud and rhythmic they echoed all the way back to the living room, louder by far than anything that had occurred in the bathroom.
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