LUST FOR LIFE [FEAT. AYAME]

Scrape, scrape.

Seventy-seven years ago...

I could distinctly remember the coarse sensation of the whet stone against my slender fingers, calloused by bloodshed and despair. Despite how many times I'd employed this soul cutting device, I never understood its true worth until far into my empty existence. All I felt that me and the blade shared a common belief and purpose. That blade was an extension of myself, thieved from a low-class Shinigami upon his demise. Sometimes I wondered to myself, just how did he come to his ruin? Was it because of the extremities of the environment? Did he fall to all of the unjust killing and abuse of the harsh environment? I'd never know.

I could distinctly remember wanting to use the blade on most of my peer's throats. Especially at that time; a bunch of nonsensical roguish buffoons talking about how they would woo me in a sleep-catering piece of furniture they would never actually manage to get me in. I could practically feel the bone-splintering impact rinse through my being as my then boyfriend bestowed upon them a much deserved strike. I was relieved to say the least; I mightn't have had to deal with any more of the obscene chatter for the rest of the day, with one outspoken fool teetering on the brink of consciousness. Over my time here, I learned that violence was a popular method of enforcing things, and within the back of my mind I was starting to believe in it.

Setting the sharpening stone down, I pushed myself up, and slid the blade into its sheath. I fixated my attention onto Ashton, and waded my way through the personified barbarism and idiocy. The display moments ago apparently was enough to send a message potent enough to save me from the touch of their unwanted hands and gestures. Though I could feel their eyes upon me like a deluge of salivating tongues. So there I had been once again, being rescued from maltreatment courtesy of Ashton's efforts. At times back then I truly felt like a giddy schoolgirl; I somehow managed to smile through the madness, as I arrived at his side.

"Thanks for that, dear," I started, clasping my hands together behind my back. "Where are we headed?"

The grasp securing the hilt of her weapon was reduced in firmness the second she felt Ashton's hand against her cheek. The increased proximity and intimacy transiently numbed her mind to thought, almost causing her to drop the slightly serrated uncannily old-fashioned looking katana. She'd extracted it from its sheath in the prior moments when she received news of their to-be duty, but seemed to nearly forget about it courtesy of the sheer sensations assaulting her once she became indulgent in the bout of affection.

As it was true, she certainly had no motivation or interest in denying the claim her boyfriend made thereafter. Ironically, some of her blush and anxieties were eased the more they indulged in the show of intimacy. Normally one's face would further flush red, but she, as though in reverse, actually had her insecurities eased and recovered a deal of much needed composure. "Of course."

For Ayame, it was impossible to not immediately reciprocate the gesture once her lips were seized by Ashton's own. Auburn eyes were quickly sheathed behind delicate eyelids as she modestly parted her lips to allow her own tongue to ease thirstily out to perhaps greet her boyfriend's own. The mingled concoction that was their saliva was savored by the brunette. One hand currently occupied, she instead elevated her free hand, gently perching it upon Ashton's shoulder.

As the moment persisted the brunette nigh found her mind entirely succumbing to the ecstasy permeating through it. Lips in contact, tongue in contact, the feelings were veiling over her eyes and rendering her blind to the happenings around them, in her mind isolating them from everyone else – the violence, the rape, the theft, all of the unlawful practices being undergone without even the slightest ounce of contrition. Her voluptuous form found itself easily acquired by Ashton's consistent touch, and she wouldn't want it any other way. The brunette did her best to beckon the gestures. They bolstered the euphoria to levels she did not think possible.

Reality was as intrusive and unwelcomed as ever. The reluctance that followed as their lips ceased their contact was evident as Ayame almost leaned in again to pursue her intimate interests, but somehow managed to put a psychological wedge between continuation and pragmatism and tried her best to follow the latter cause, even though only when Ashton spoke did she draw her eyes open. Even then, the surreal situation still clouded her vision, and her navigation within what was real was crude at best. An awkward chuckle escaped her, as she piqued up slightly from the squeeze at her rear. The same old crap was going around within them, and they were like an isle of euphoria amidst the chaos. She kept her eyes fixed on, and only saw for the time being, Ashton.

" I think we were ... collecting payment, sadly."