Subject: [FFML] [Orig][Lime] Kumiko the Demon-girl, chapter 7
From: "Ammadeau" <roy.fokker@unspacy.org>
Date: 10/2/2000, 11:12 PM
To: ffml@fanfic.com

The ending here is completely different from what I had
originally planned, so please tell me if it works or not
before I start the next chapter. :)

I'd like to thank Orlean, Thomas Hackwood, Juliet Ormonde,
Kichigai, and Chester for commenting on the pervious chapter.

***

Kumiko the Demon-girl
(A Lime-flavored Original Fic)
By Ammadeau
Roy.Fokker@UNSpacy.org
http://www.thekeep.org/~amm/

Chapter 7: Operation Anti-Succubus Phase I

****

     For once in his life, Eichi didn't regret allowing his 
roommates to bully him into the bed by the east window.  For as 
the feeble light of dawn poured under the broken shade and roused 
him from his fitful slumber, he knew that today was the great day 
that he had long waited for.
     Quickly getting dressed, and ignoring the grumbled 
complaints of his roommates, Eichi's mind remained focused on 
the momentous things that awaited him, so near that he could 
almost touch them.  While he considered freeing Ken from the 
clutches of the evil succubus to be a noble deed, it really was but a 
means to an end.  The important thing was that he would finally 
witness an act of the supernatural with his own two eyes.
     His older sister probably had something to do with his 
obsession in the paranormal, with the tapes of a certain TV show 
only being the spark that ignited an already well-stocked furnace.  
At a young age, Seiko Kitanuma had decided to become a scientist, 
and furthermore her little brother would become her own personal 
lab rat, conducting everything from reflex tests to observing the 
behavior of bees when exposed to him.
     If that wasn't enough, she had stripped away every mystery 
and fantasy of childhood just as he grasped them; disproving fairies 
and moon bunnies with her irritatingly calm and detached voice.  
Before, he just wanted to get away from her so he could lead a nice 
and normal life, but now he planned to shove proof of the 
supernatural down her throat with the aloof tone he'd been 
practicing in the mirror recently.
     Eichi unlocked the door to the Paranormal Club room, 
surveying their earlier preparations with a smile.  All was in 
readiness.  He took a seat on the floor and waited for the others to 
arrive so 'Operation Anti-Succubus' could begin.

     Nobu hadn't slept.  Instead, he had been editing and 
reediting the footage he had taken ever since the blue-haired vision 
of female perfection had bounced her way into his life.  At first he 
told himself that he was doing it out of dedication to the club, in 
order to find out the dread succubi's weak spots.  After a few hours 
however, that excuse had worn a little thin and he simply accepted 
the fact that he liked watching her.
     The energetic mystery woman was like no one he had ever 
seen before.  With every movement, every gesture, every 
expression to cross her delicate features, he was completely 
enthralled, viewing them again and again until the images had 
burned into his mind.  Nobu knew that most people wouldn't 
understand his small obsession.  He had no desire to speak with 
this girl, no desire to touch her alabaster skin... she was simply too 
perfect for that.  She was meant to be admired from a distance.
     Which left Nobu with a quandary.  While he wanted to 
believe she was a mortal woman, he had to admit that out of all the 
girls he had seen, and recorded, none had possessed that 
undeniable yet undefinable thing which he had long searched for, 
and which this pale beauty radiated like a star in the night sky.  She 
might be more than human, but more likely a goddess than a devil.  
Which made him feel even more strongly that she should not be 
tarnished by human hands. This started a coal of hatred towards 
Ken to slowly burn.
     If the club's great plan succeeded today, it would drive them 
apart forever.  If she really was a goddess and Ken was the only 
thing holding her to the mortal realm though, that would mean 
Nobu would never be able to see her again.  He would be left with 
a few hours of footage and an ache in his heart for having once 
glimpsed perfection, yet knowing he would never witness it again.  
He could not let that happened.
     Nobu arrived at the club early, planning to search through 
their written plans and find some way of sabotaging them, only to 
be surprised to find Eichi already there, going over those plans 
carefully.  The president looked up only once and nodded before 
returning to his work.
     Nobu understood.  They required all members in attendance 
before the great plan could be set into motion.  He popped the tape 
he had spent the night making into the VCR and settled down to 
watch as he waited.  He would simply have to watch as their plan 
unfolded and take whatever action he could to keep the goddess in 
sight.

     Satoru was having a pleasant dream.  He was the slave a 
lady vampire in some dark, musty dungeon filled with rusty torture 
equipment.  It was just the two of them.  There was only the 
flickering of torches to illuminate her chalk-white skin snugly 
encased in a spiked dominatrix outfit.
     "You're such a bad slave, Satoru," she purred as she 
approached him, her stiletto heels clicking loudly against the stone 
floor.   She stopped to snap her whip only a few centimeters from 
his face.  "I believe I shall have to punish you again.  Try not to 
enjoy it so much this time."
     "Yes, mistress!" Satoru replied obediently, waiting for the 
next round to begin.
     Then suddenly the vampire began to change.  The hard 
lines of her face softened as her stern look became a smile.  Even 
her dark red hair faded to blue as her clothes shifted into a much 
more frightening wardrobe... a bunny outfit.
     Satoru screamed, but it was to no avail as the succubus 
drew ever closer, pursing her lips for a kiss...  Then he frowned as 
her lips met his, feeling much too real to be just a dream.  He 
blinked and stared into a very familiar face, whose lips were just 
now drawing away from his.  "Good morning, big brother!"
     "Nami!" Satoru shouted in red-faced rage at his very 
strange, not to mention perverted, fourteen year old sister.  "I told 
you never do to that ever again!"
     "I know, but you looked so cute lying there that I couldn't 
help myself," Nami told him with a grin as she rocked back and 
forth on her heels. She was dressed in a stylized sailor fuku that 
looked like a school uniform redesigned for combat.  "Is it my fault 
that my own dear brother is the most handsome man in the world?  
You are just too irresistible."
     "What are you doing in my apartment so early in the 
morning anyway?" Satoru asked as his anger level dropped down 
to irritation, though he still felt mildly ill.  Even though she had 
been chasing after him since hitting puberty, he still didn't like his 
own sister staring at him with lust in her eyes.
     He also didn't bother to ask how she had gotten into the 
apartment building, or passed the locked door of his apartment.  
This wasn't the first time she had dropped in for a surprise visit, 
though he hoped that she hadn't kicked in the door like last time.
     "Early shoot for my TV show today," Nami explained as 
she began doing cartwheels around his room, "and a full schedule 
after school too.  This was the only time I'd be able to see you 
today, so I thought I'd better not miss this opportunity."
     Nami ended her monologue with a roll onto his bed so that 
she was sitting her in her brother's lap, her short dark hair thrown 
back as she stuck her chest forward.  "Aren't you happy to see me?"
     "Ecstatic," Satoru said flatly as he slipped out of bed and 
began to gather his things for the day.  As he glanced at his alarm 
clock, her realized that he'd be the first in the club room for once.  
He better try and find his key then.  "I don't understand why you 
agreed to so much work, or how you can stand it."
     Overwork had been the thing that drove Satoru to abandon 
his career as a child idol, and to be firmly against his younger sister 
pursuing the same profession.  Nami seemed to love it, however, 
taking in as much work as she possibly could.  As a result, she was 
currently one of the more popular idols, having her own TV show 
and recording contract, not to mention a slew of endorsements and 
other commitments.  She was even being scouted for the Olympics 
gymnastic team.
     "Well, a lot of it is real fun, especially the adoration of my 
many fans, who I tragically can not return their love, but when 
things get tough, I just think how all of this hard work and 
suffering will provide for our future!" Nami exclaimed all in one 
breath as she hugged her brother from behind, making sure to press 
her 'still developing but already quite significant' breasts into his 
back.
     "Our future?" Satoru repeated as he gently but firmly 
detached his little sister from himself.  She had been latching onto 
him since she was a baby, so much so that he had once nicknamed 
her leech-girl, but only recently had she tried forcing her budding 
sex appeal down his throat.  Even if she hadn't been his sister, 
Satoru was only interested in older women.
     "Yes!  In only two years, I'll be old enough so we can 
finally get married.  Then I'll retire and buy us a big house where 
we can spend every moment alone in each other's company," Nami 
explained; blush freckling her cheeks, stars filling her eyes, and 
drool dripping down her chin.
     "It's illegal in Japan, and the rest of the world as far as I 
know, for siblings to get married," Satoru pointed out, not 
bothering to mention how he felt about marrying his own sister.  
She was firmly of the opinion that he was only repressing his 
feelings due to some silly cultural taboo.
     "I'll just use mom's surname," Nami replied, completely 
unfazed by this latest obstacle.  "I already use it for work anyway."
     "You're missing the point, Nami," Satoru told her as he felt 
his anger begin to build again.  "We're more than just blood 
relatives.  Do I have to explain inbreeding to you?"
     "Who said anything about children?" Nami asked as she 
performed a few jumping jacks, followed by some stretching 
exercises.  Her TV show was about a school run by a ninja clan and 
she insisted on doing her own stunts, so she needed to keep in 
shape.  She was also a naturally energetic person and needed to 
burn off all of her excess energy.  "It'll be just the two of us, alone 
forever.  We won't even need clothes to keep us warm because 
we'll have each other."
     Satoru was trying to come up with some way to drive her 
sister off so he could take as shower in piece, when an unfamiliar 
feminine voice spoke from the hallway, "We will have to leave 
now to be on time, Nami."
     "Who is that?" Satoru asked his sister in surprise.  Nami's 
manager was a nerdy little guy who always looked on the verge of 
an ulcer, no doubt due to Nami giving him a hard time.  He was 
also forever apologizing for Nami's frequent surprise appearances.  
He seemed to be under the delusion that if he were little more 
strong-willed, her might be able to control the wild girl.
     Nami shrugged.  "She owns the management company 
Dashi-kun works for.  He's on vacation this week, so she wanted to 
handle things for me personally.  Don't see why she just doesn't get 
some other manager to do it.  She's a strange lady."
     That was when a woman gracefully entered the room.  She 
looked to be in her late twenties, her long dark red hair matching 
the maroon business dress she wore.  Her clothes concealed most 
of her obviously well-proportioned figure, though not her long 
legs, whose curves flowed down into high heels.  The dark 
sunglasses she wore and briefcase she carried made her appear 
both mysterious and professional at the same time, enhancing the 
aura of command that hung about her.
     "Aomori-san," Nami addressed the woman with some 
respect.  "This is my brother, Sato-chan."
     Satoru would have groaned to hear his sister introduce him 
like that, if his mind had still been working.  Instead, he continued 
to stare with his mouth hanging open at the elegant woman who 
had just entered his bedroom.  He found her remarkably similar to 
the vampire of his dream, though red hair and gender were the only 
things they actually had in common.
     "Pleased to meet you, Satoru-san," Ms. Aomori told him 
with a nod, adjusting her sunglasses with one outstretched finger 
before turning to address her charge.  "Come along now, Nami.  
Today's shoot is a key scene and rushing through it could hurt your 
career.  Also, if all goes well today, they won't have to reshoot it 
tomorrow.  Then you can spend the whole morning with your 
brother if you wish."
     "Yes, Aomori-san!" Nami yelled cheerfully, giving her still-
stunned brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek before bouncing out 
of the room.
     "Farewell, Satoru-san," Ms. Aomori said with a neutral 
expression before turning and following her charge.
     "Good-bye, Aomori-san!" Satoru shouted after finally 
regaining his wits, only to realize that the woman was already long 
gone.
     Some time later, Satoru arrive a the club room, taking out 
his keys, only to blink in surprise to find the door was already 
open.  Inside, the other two were already hard at work planning out 
their activities for the day despite the early hour.
     Eichi stood at the final member entered and said simply, "It 
is time."
     The others could only nod.

     The first faint tendrils of sunlight reached past the blankets, 
being used to insulate the broken window, to caress the sleeping 
face of Kumiko, bringing a unconscious smile to her lips.  
     The demon-girl dreamt of her favorite hot lava onsen's 
comforting warmth, her best friend Ayame by her side.  It didn't 
seem odd for an angel to be in Hell, her large dove wings half 
submerged in lava.  No more than the fact that Ken was serving 
them warm sake, or that Natsume was tied up on the edge of the 
fountain, her feeble struggles unable to even shake the heavy 
chains that weighed her down.
     Kumiko accepted the offered sake from her slave, kissing 
him softly before leaning back in the warmth of the lava, all the 
way up to her neck.  She tipped the cup to her lips as she closed her 
eyes.  *This is paradise.*
     The demon-girl blinked suddenly, as with a thunderous 
explosion, Natsume stood free of her chains.  Before Kumiko 
could even react, the strange girl raced over to Ayame and together 
they both flew away, smiling as they looked nowhere but into each 
other's eyes.  The demon-girl reached out for them, trying to yell 
out, but she couldn't think of the words.  In moments, they were 
gone from sight.
     *Hmph!  Well, I still have Ken-chan!* Kumiko thought in 
irritation, only to realize that her slave was no longer by her side.  
Instead, the waitress from the caf� was wearing her outfit and 
leading Ken away by the collar around his neck.  Kumiko again 
tried to yell out, but the words would not come.  She could only sit 
and watch Ken's eager expression as he obeyed his new mistress, 
getting farther and farther away.
     Kumiko was all alone now.  That was when the lava began 
to cool rapidly, dropping in temperature until it chilled her pale 
skin.  Tiny white specs started falling all around her.  Snow, she 
realized.  As she looked up to the sky, she found the usual cloud of 
smoke replaced with a hazy light that only grew brighter and 
brighter as she stared at it.  She tried to shield herself from the 
blinding light as it fell towards her...
     Kumiko blinked again, finding the sunlight painful to her 
overly-sensitive eyes.  Blocking the glare with one outstretched 
wing, she glanced around in surprise to find that she wasn't back in 
Hell after all, but in Ken's apartment.  Rubbing her cheek in 
confusion, she was startled to find her face wet.  Experimentally, 
she licked her palm.  Salty.  *Tears?*
     A short groan distracted the demon-girl from her 
contemplations, alerting her addled mind that she wasn't alone in 
bed.  She looked over to see Ken's head poking out from under the 
sheets, which he clutched closely to himself in dubious protection 
from the chill of early morning.
     "Ken-chan!!" Kumiko shouted in joy as she threw her arms 
around him, holding him tightly to her, feeling the warmth of his 
body against hers.  The nightmare faded from her mind, almost as 
if it had never been.
     *When did I get two pillows?* Ken thought as he groggily 
opened his eyes.  Finding the current amount of rest experienced 
insufficient, his mind was refused to explain his current situation.  
Instead, it suggested that he go back to sleep, a suggestion that he 
eagerly obeyed.
     After a few minutes of holding her slave, and no one else's, 
in her arms, Kumiko frowned as she finally noticed the odd sound 
that Ken was making.  It wasn't at all like the sounds he made 
when they had sex, though it was nearly as silly.  It reminded her of 
the time a demon had tried snarling at her with a spirit cold.  The 
result had been more pathetic than threatening.
     Kumiko held Ken out at arms length and studied him 
carefully.  He hung limp in her arms, his head lolled to one side, as 
a line of moisture began to drip from his open mouth.  Then he 
made the slow snarling sound again, accompanied by the rise and 
fall of his chest.
     "Ken-chan!" Kumiko shouted as she shook him like a rag 
doll.  "You're making strange noises!"
     "Wha?  Wha?" Ken slurred, his eyes only half open as he 
looked back at her.  "Oh, is breakfast ready, dear?"
     Kumiko frowned slightly and shook Ken a few more times.  
"What are you talking about, Ken-chan?  You're not making any 
sense!"
     "It's only an earthquake, dear.  They happen all the time 
here in Tokyo," Ken replied, his voice still slurred, and his eyes 
shut once again.  "We'll just have to get used to them.  We can't 
just move back now that I'm prime minister..."
     Kumiko was a bit worried.  Maybe she'd been too rough 
with her slave and had broke him.  She knew that humans were 
somewhat fragile in both mind and body, but thought she had 
treated her slave the way she was supposed to.  The demon-girl's 
brow knitted as she tried to remember her classes, but she never 
did have a good long-term memory.  She had forgotten most of her 
lessons right after the tests, and everything else usually didn't stay 
in her mind long after making her reports.
     The first thing she could think of was something about 
getting plenty of water and sunlight.  That didn't sound like 
something for slaves, but she didn't have any other ideas.  She 
shrugged; it was worth a try.
     Kumiko gently picked up Ken in her arms, cradling him 
like a baby.  As he nuzzled her breasts and muttered something 
about calling in sick, she entered his small bathroom.  Reluctantly 
setting him down in the shower, it was cold in the apartment and 
her slave was a good source of warmth, she threw open the shade 
so that the sunlight fell upon him. Then she turned on the shower 
full blast.
     "Cold!!" Ken shrieked like a little girl as he leapt out of the 
path of the freezing torrent, his panic halted by the bathroom wall 
he has just jumped head first into.
     "Wow, it worked," Kumiko commented, her eyes wide in 
surprise.  Now she knew what to do the next time this happened.  
There were so many things to learn about humans.  She had no idea 
that they'd be so interesting.
     *What did I ever do to deserve this?* Ken wondered as he 
rubbed the bump now developing on his forehead, which matched 
the one he had gotten last night on the back of his head.  Due to 
being wide awake via a surprise cold shower, the pain was sharp 
and hard to ignore.
     "Good morning, Ken-chan!" Kumiko exclaimed gleefully 
as she hugged her from behind, pressing her full breasts into his 
back while rubbing her cheek against his neck.  The demon-girl 
noted that her slave was also quite cuddly, besides being warm.
     "Good morning, Kumiko," Ken echoed with a total lack of 
enthusiasm.  He guessed that most demons were night people, 
committing horrible deeds under the shadow of evening.  It was 
just his luck to get stuck with the one demon who was a morning 
person.
     "Hmm, seems like not all of you is awake yet," Kumiko 
said, peering at his naked form in the mirror as her hands slipped 
down past his waist.  "Oh, there it goes!"
     Ken blushed in embarrassment.  He thought it was way too 
early in the morning for that, but his body obviously had other 
ideas.  He blushed even more when he noticed the shade had been 
pulled back and a middle-aged woman was staring in shock at 
them from the building across the street.
     "Hi, mam!" Kumiko shouted to her, waving in a friendly 
manner with a free hand while she continued to hold Ken with the 
other.  Still stunned, the woman tentatively waved back.
     With the agility borne of desperation, Ken managed to slip 
out of the demon-girl's grip and tug down the shade all without 
colliding into walls or tripping over something.
     "Is something wrong, Ken-chan?" Kumiko asked him 
curiously.  His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily.  
Maybe he was coming down with some human illness.  She hoped 
that whatever it was, it wasn't contagious to demons.  Kumiko had 
been sick for a whole week once and it hadn't been any fun at all.
     At first Ken didn't respond; simply because there were 
simply too many answers to that question to choose from.  Then he 
realized he was shivering from the cold water still dripping from 
him and his stomach was empty.  This last thought was followed 
by another; there wasn't anything left to eat in the apartment.
     "No, nothing," Ken told her with a partially-forced smile.  
"Why don't we take a hot shower and have breakfast someplace?"
     "Umm!" Kumiko agreed with a smile as she 
enthusiastically grabbed hold of Ken and dragged him back into 
the shower, pressing his body against the tiled wall with her own.  
"A very hot shower."
     Ken was already feeling his temperature rise when the 
demon-girl tilted her head up to kiss him.

     Ayame yawned daintily as she sat up, looking around 
herself in surprise as slumber's grey vines began to wither and fade 
away under the morning light.  She had been sleeping, of all things, 
in the room of a mortal.  The angel could tell this because the 
mortal herself was still asleep on the other futon next to her.  She 
wondered why she was here and not in Heaven, but then the mortal 
did look vaguely familiar.
     Confused and still half-asleep, Ayame assumed the lotus 
position and entered into a state of light meditation.  The answers 
she sought slowly drifted into her mind.   Memories of seeing 
Kumiko again, and the shameful activities the demon-girl was 
engaged in.  Blurred images of the time when a powerful rage had 
gripped her, all in shades of red.  Being sentenced to a year's exile 
for her rash deeds, and finally the blushing face of the mortal 
partially hidden behind glasses.
     Ayame smiled as she came out of her meditation, unable to 
feel bad about the things that had happened to her recently.  Her 
soul was at peace, content with its lot.  She felt embarrassed to 
admit that it was largely do to the worldly comforts of a nice hot 
soak and a comfortable futon to rest on.  It would be hard to resist 
such pleasures from now on if she were to remain true to the 
Creator's great plan.  Angels were made to serve humans, not to 
revel in mortal indulgences.
     *Well, I don't think an occasional bath could hurt,* Ayame 
thought with a guilty smile.  Some temptations were simply too 
strong for the angel-girl to resist, though she knew that worldly 
things weren't the only source of bliss.  She still felt the lingering 
traces of a joyful warmth caused by Natsume's kindness to her, 
welcoming a complete stranger with all her heart.  *Surely she has 
already earned a place in Heaven.*
     Ayame blinked at that thought, finally remembering the 
initial reason she had come to the mortal world.  If she were ever to 
become a full angel, she would have to find a martyr.  Someone so 
selfless that they would willingly give up Heaven so that an angel 
could live for another thousand years.
     Ayame shook her head to clear it of that thought.  Even if 
Natsume was destined to die within a year, the angel-girl could 
never ask that of her.  She had only known Natsume for a few 
hours, but perhaps because she was the angel-girl's first real human 
contact, she was already precious to her.  She would protect this 
girl from harm in exchange for her kindness.  As an angel, it was 
her duty.
     The thought that she might never be able to ask martyrdom 
of anyone, and never become a true angel, began to fill Ayame 
with sadness.  She used her cultivated professionalism as a break to 
block a potential flood of despair.  She still had a year and no one 
could truly predict the future.  A million things could happen 
between then and now.  It was best not to worry about it.
     Catching a flash of her reflection in the mirror across the 
room, Ayame curiously padded over to it.  She examined herself 
carefully, then blushed deeply to see how embarrassingly small the 
shirt Natsume had leant her was, exposing a hint of pristine white 
panties.  It should have been no surprise since Natsume was a 
shorter girl, but the angel-girl was glad no one had ever seen her in 
public like this.
     Ayame tended to be nervous around others, especially 
fellow angels, always worried that she'd say or do something that 
wouldn't measure up to heavenly standards.  Strangely though, she 
had felt none of her normal anxiety around Natsume.  She realized 
it was a combination of her lingering shock and that Natsume had 
been so nervous around her that it had been hard to feel nervous 
herself.  The fact that someone else could be so concerned about 
making the right impression had somehow set her at ease.
     Noting her generally disheveled state, especially her hair, 
Ayame was glad that even Natsume couldn't see her at the moment.  
She took off the borrowed shirt, carefully folding it before setting 
on the floor beside her.  Then she blushed again, catching the sight 
of herself standing there in only her underwear.  She was glad that 
she didn't use mirrors in Heaven; her face would be red for hours 
each day.  With one last shake of her head, Ayame twirled quickly, 
suddenly dressed in a long skirt and a loose, long-sleeved blouse.  
Her strawberry blonde hair was perfect once again.
     As she made some finishing touches to her appearance, the 
angel-girl's thoughts turned to her new mission.  She was supposed 
to watch over Kensuke Iwakami and make regular reports of his 
activities to Heaven.  That mean also seeing Kumiko again, but 
Ayame was determined to bear that burden like a true angel.  She 
wouldn't give that... demon-girl the satisfaction of losing control 
again.
     Ayame realized that the coffee shop was the perfect base of 
operations; it wasn't far from the apartment building where 
Kensuke lived or the college that he attended.  She wondered if 
Natsume would be willing to extend her generosity until the angel-
girl was able to secure her own accommodations.  It would be best 
to do something to encourage that idea, to prove her usefulness.  It 
was a touch deceitful, but then Ayame did honestly want to help 
the mortal girl in whatever way she could.
     *Hmm, last night she mentioned something about the work 
that still needed to be done on her coffee shop,* Ayame thought as 
she carefully folded the futon she had slept in, setting the borrowed 
shirt on top.
     The angel-girl had studied summaries of nearly every 
aspect of human life, but this was so broad a topic that even almost 
a hundred years hadn't been time enough to cover all the specifics.  
So she only knew some things about eating establishments, but 
there had to be some place that her vast area of knowledge could be 
put to use.  She would simply have to look and see.
     Ayame stepped out into the hall, turning back to glance at 
her host once more.  Natsume was currently curled up on her futon, 
her hair shading her closed eyes and a smile decorating her lips.  
The angel-girl smiled in return before carefully shutting the door 
behind her.
     "Ayame-chan," Natsume muttered in her sleep.

     Like soldiers at the front, the members of the Paranormal 
Club inspected their equipment and mentally prepared themselves 
for the battle ahead.  They knew it would be a hard fight.  The 
enemy was strong and their chances of success low.  Yet in his 
own way, each was confident of victory.
     Eichi reviewed his plans for flaws once more while 
mentally composing a formal letter to his sister, which boiled down 
to, "You're wrong!  Nya!  Nya!"  Nobu made sure his camcorder 
was in working order, with plenty of film and batteries, and 
wondered the best way to drive the blue-haired goddess away from 
Ken while still keeping her bound to the mortal realm.  And Satoru 
prepared for a divination while daydreaming of Ms. Aomori 
dressed in black leather, whip held ready.
     "Final checks complete?" Eichi ask as he glanced around 
the small room.  When the others eventually nodded, he nodded in 
turn and continued, "Very well, let us begin.  Vice-president, 
please predict the first place that Ken and that evil succubus will 
encounter one of the women from the new revised list!"
     Satoru cleared the area around him as he sat cross-legged 
on the floor, a photograph of Ken and that... cheerful succubus 
lying before him.  The other members of the club were still, careful 
not to make a sound.  With his eyes shut, the vice-president 
removed the mystical orb from around his neck and passed it over 
the photo in a small circle.  Eichi and Nobu both saw the orb glow 
a deep red, but it was gone in moments, making them wonder if 
they had only imagined it.  Neither dare to speak, however, and 
interrupt the ritual.
     "Ken will soon appear at the convenience store near the 
campus," Satoru intoned as he slowly opened his eyes.  "One of the 
girls on the list will be working there."
     Eichi nodded fervently when Satoru pointed out the girl's 
name on the list.  "Ah, a very good one to start with!  She's in one 
of my classes.  A tough girl, very standoffish, but rumored to have 
a weakness for sob stories involving pushy women."
     "So what's the plan, president?" Nobu asked 
enthusiastically, practically drooling at the idea of a cat fight 
between Kumiko and this other girl, even though he already knew 
who would win.
     Eichi was silent for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought, 
until he snatched up one of his note cards and exclaimed, "This 
plan will do!  Satoru will explain to the woman that his older 
brother, Ken, is being treated horribly by his new girlfriend, but he 
is much too kindhearted to tell her off.  So Satoru will beg the 
woman to confront his brother's girlfriend.  He will say that she's 
only a bully, so is sure to back down."
     "She might not seem like it," Satoru told the president with 
a frown, "but this succubus is a supernatural being of immense 
power.  She won't be scared off so easily.  Only true love will break 
the hold she has on Ken."
     "That was only the first part of my brilliant plan," Eichi told 
him smugly.  "You see, the reason Satoru will be asking her for 
help specifically is because his dear older brother is in love with 
the woman, but can't confess his feelings with his overbearing 
girlfriend in the way.  Girls always get mushy over secret love 
confessions."
     "Are you speaking from experience?" Nobu asked as he 
double-checked his camera.  He made sure all the settings were 
good for interior shots since Satoru would be the one using it.
     "Ahem," Eichi coughed.  "I will be waiting in front of the 
convenience store where I will risk my very soul to delay the 
succubus, while doing my best to provoke her into revealing her 
true nature.  Finally, Nobu will lie in wait around the corner,  
following the succubus into the store in order to record our 
moment of triumph!  So what do you think of my ingenious plan?  
Foolproof, isn't it?"
     "Brilliant," Nobu agreed off-handedly as he handed Satoru 
his camera and donned the bag that held his precious camcorder.  
He didn't think it had a chance of succeeding, but it would be a 
great photo opportunity.
     "Dubious, but worth a try," Satoru answered honestly.  
"Only we should switch roles.  You've already thought out the story 
in detail.  You should be the one to tell it.  I'm much better 
equipped to handle anything supernatural the succubus might try 
anyway."
     In truth, Satoru just wanted to make that... succubus as 
angry as he was at her.  Succubi were supposed to be dark and 
carry a mature sexy allure, the product of their evil nature.  Not be 
so... cheerful and cute.  She stood as an insult to all dark mystics 
everywhere, and even worse, her attitude reminded him of his 
sister.
     He also had a bad feeling about talking to the convenience 
store girl; something that refused to clarify itself, much to his 
annoyance.  For some reason, while he could see the future of other 
people with some clarity, divinations of his own future were 
always too cloudy to make out.
     "No, no, no!" Eichi argued nervously.  "With your prior 
acting experience, not to mention your ability with women, you'd 
be far more convincing than I ever could!  And that's much more 
critical to the plan than goading the succubus."
     "In other words, he asked the convenience store girl for a 
date before and she turned him down flat.  Now he's too 
embarrassed to speak to her," Nobu commented dryly.
     Eichi hung his head in shame, not bothering to deny it.
     "Very well, I will do as you say," Satoru told him, unable to 
bear seeing their president look so pathetic.  Besides, if she really 
was such a loner, he should have no problems with her.  "Then we 
should be on our way.  Ken will arrive at the convenience store in 
roughly fifteen minutes."
     "Right!  Paranormal Club, go!" Eichi shouted with fist 
upraised before running out of the door.
     "He's been borrowing your mecha anime again, hasn't he?" 
Satoru asked the remaining club member as they watched their 
president sprint down the hall, only to fall down the stairs.
     Nobu sadly nodded.

     Natsume yawned as she sat up, automatically grabbing her 
glasses from the table next to her.  Brushing the hair our of her 
eyes, she slipped them firmly into place, knowing they wouldn't 
stay there for very long.  As the room snapped into focus, she 
couldn't help noticing that she was alone.  Had her night with the 
gentle, beautiful woman been a dream?  Well, she was sure that the 
bits near the end had really been a dream, but for the most part she 
didn't have that vivid an imagination.
     *She must have already left,* Natsume thought with a sigh, 
noticing the spare futon neatly folded next to her.  On top was one 
of her favorite shirts that she had leant Ayame to wear.  *And I 
didn't even really get to see how good she looked in it.*
     Natsume wished that her guest had at least said good-bye, 
but knew there was no use in getting depressed over this.  It was all 
her fault for acting like a total idiot last night, which probably 
drove Ayame to leave at first light.  She felt ashamed of her 
conduct, but her guest had effected her in ways she hadn't 
expected.
     Stretching as she stood, Natsume did a few morning 
exercises to wake up her body, which still felt half asleep.  Quickly 
throwing together an outfit for the day, she went out in the hall, 
heading in the direction of her furo.  A nice long bath was just the 
thing she needed to feel better.
     That was when she heard a sound that seemed to be coming 
from downstairs.  A squeak, like the sound the door made whose 
hinges still needed to be oiled. Natsume raced down the stairs, 
hoping to catch Ayame before she left and apologize for the way 
she had acted last night.  At least then they could part on a friendly 
note.
     Natsume blinked, nearly falling on her face in surprise, to 
find the wood floor of her coffee shop gleaming back at her.  All of 
the furniture had been pushed against the walls, and out on the 
center of the floor knelt Ayame, polishing the wood until it her 
own reflection shown back at her.
     "What...?" Natsume managed to say after a few moments, 
still half frozen in shock.  She couldn't help wondering how long 
had her guest been up and hard at work.  The floor had been 
heavily scuffed and coated in dust.  Now it looked as if it had just 
been installed, shining with a gleam normally seen only in furniture 
commercials.
     Ayame startled at the sound of Natsume's voice, but smiled 
when she looked up to see her host standing by the stairwell.
     "I wanted to do something in exchange for letting me stay 
the night.  Then I remembered that you wanted help in decorating 
your coffee shop.  I don't really know anything about that, but I did 
have some prior experience in polishing floors, even if those had 
been marble.  I hope I haven't done anything rash."
     Natsume violently shook her head side to side.  "No, you 
did a great job!  I was just surprised.  I mean, I never expected my 
floor could ever look this good.  I'm almost afraid to walk on it and 
mar your work."
     Ayame blushed lightly from the compliment as she stood.  
"You really are too kind to say so.  It was only a simple thing that 
anyone else could have done, but I'm ashamed to admit that it was 
the only way I could think to repay you."
     "I said before that you're my guest.  You didn't have to go 
through so much trouble," Natsume told her with a smile as she 
padded across the floor on bare feet.  She stopped suddenly to 
realize she was now in full view of the large windows that fronted 
her coffee shop, in only a nightshirt.  With a panicked expression, 
she quickly dashed back to the concealment of the stairwell.  It was 
still early in the morning, but who could tell what sort of hentai 
freaks might be lurking about?
     "It was no trouble at all," Ayame insisted as she returned 
the polishing materials to one of the boxes stacked in the corner.  
All except for the rag, which she washed in the counter sink and 
left to dry.  "For all the kindness you had show me, I had to do 
something in return."
     Natsume opened her mouth to argue, but just shook her 
head.  The deed was already done, it was pointless to debate about 
it now.  Besides, if it kept Ayame there longer, why should she 
fight it?  "Have you eaten yet, Ayame?"
     "No...," Ayame replied slowly.  It was the truth, but only 
because as an angel she had no need of food to sustain her.  She 
knew that she could eat simply for pleasure, but had never indulged 
in anything so wasteful before.
     "Well, I personally think I owe you more than you owe me 
now," Natsume said with a confident grin as she adjusted her 
glasses.  "In order to tip the scales back in my favor, I am going to 
prepare you a traditional Japanese breakfast!"
     "I'm honored, Natsume, but you really shouldn't go through 
such trouble just for me," Ayame replied nervously.
     "Since I've got to make breakfast for myself anyway, it's no 
trouble to make an additional serving.  So you have nothing to 
argue about," Natsume told her with a grin, crossing her arms as if 
daring her guest to refute her logic.
     "I will be delighted then," Ayame said with nervous smile.  
She didn't want to waste food when she knew that mortals were 
starving elsewhere in the world.  Yet she simply could not offend 
her kind host.  Trapped by her own morality, she had no choice but 
to agree.

     As the town was beginning to awake, The Paranormal Club 
had all taken up their positions around the convenience store, ready 
to set their plan in motion.
     Eichi was in 'disguise', wearing a somewhat feminine pair 
of dark glasses he had swiped from his older sister a year ago, as he 
nervously loitered around the entrance.  Satoru, dressed all on 
black with a camera slung over his chest, resembled a cat burglar 
on holiday.  He stood to the other side of the doorway, arms 
crossed, as he watched the empty street.  Nobu looked much the 
same as he always did, including the camcorder that seemed glued 
to his right eye.  Even though people tended to overlook him 
anyway, he hid himself away in the shadow of the nearby alley.
     Eichi nodded to Satoru, who nodded in return. With a small 
sigh, the vice-president passed the sliding glass doors into the 
heated interior of the convenience store.
     Laying her head on the counter, Fujiko muttered around a 
pocky stick while faint strains of light j-pop filling the air.  She 
should have never taken this crummy job.  It was only because she 
was such a sucker for sob stories that she volunteered to take a few 
shifts from the weeping girl.  At the time, she had no idea how 
early she'd have to wake up, or how painfully dull the job would 
be.  She was saving up for her own motorcycle so she could really 
use the money, but this would be the last time she'd stick her neck 
out for someone else.  The road to becoming a world champion 
motorcycle racer was hard enough as it was.
     *Huh?  He looks kind of familiar,* Fujiko thought as the 
glass doors slid open with a ding and a young man entered, dressed 
all in black.  It was only a few moments before he disappeared 
among the tall aisles, leaving only a vague memory of his presence 
behind.
     Fujiko stood up straight and rubbed her face in an effort to 
wake up her mind.  The girls she normally hung around with talked 
mostly about airfoils and nitro boosters, but she occasionally 
overheard girls in class talking about more feminine stuff like 
shopping, makeup, and men.
     There was one guy who had been a frequent topic of 
speculation.  A handsome and mysterious man with a gentle 
manner who had turned down the few brave girls who had asked 
him out.  Suggestions that he was gay were always met by fervent 
denials by his fans, who Fujiko thought were letting their own 
biases get in the way.
     *What was his name?* Fujiko thought, holding her chin in 
her hands as she stared up at the ceiling.  * Shintaro? Satoshi?*
     "I would like to purchase this please," said a soft yet 
masculine voice close by.
     Fujiko turned, blinking in surprise.  She hadn't even heard 
him approach, the... incredibly handsome man who was staring 
back at her with kind eyes and a slight smile on his lips.  She 
wasn't usually the type to be effected by men, knowing that even 
the good looking ones could be creeps, but this guy was like 
someone straight out of shojo manga.  His pale bishonen features, 
topped with slightly wild black hair, were supported by a slim 
athletic frame which moved with an unconscious grace and beauty.  
*Satoru.*
     Satoru tapped the counter to indicate his magazine, a 
spiritual monthly that was mostly fake but occasionally contained 
useful information, as he continued to smile politely.  The girl just 
stood and stared at him with her mouth hanging open.  He knew it 
was early in the morning, but he had expected her to be a little 
more coherent than this.  "This magazine, I would like to buy it."
     "Yes, yes, right away," Fujiko replied as she rung up the 
periodical, scanning it quickly for a possible topic of conversation.  
To her, boys normally didn't compare to bikes, but this guy was 
something else entirely.  It was like a famous idol has just casually 
strolled up to her and said hello.  She couldn't just let him walk 
away without doing anything.
     "So... you think supernatural stuff like this really exists?" 
Fujiko asked as she carefully rang the magazine up on the cash 
register, afraid that speaking to him eye to eye would make her 
nervous.  She didn't like to lose her cool in front of anyone.
     "Maybe," Satoru replied, and realizing this was as good an 
opportunity as any, added, "At the moment, however, it is more 
mundane matters that trouble me."
     "Oh, like what?" Fujiko asked with a tone of causal 
curiosity as she slipped the magazine into a bag.  On the inside, 
though, it was all she could do to not scream out her victory.  She 
had avoided handsome men in the past with the excuse that she just 
wasn't interested, but could admit to herself that one reason she 
favored motorcycles was they couldn't reject her.  She had no idea 
that getting a guy to open up could be so easy.  "Five hundred yen, 
by the way."
     Satoru nodded and dropped a few yen coins on the counter.  
It was time to spin Eichi's little tale, but he abandoned the notion of 
Ken being his brother.  The woman would see right though that 
when it was obvious they looked nothing alike.
     He explained, "As it happens, I have a... close friend who is 
like a brother to me.  The problem is that he recently entered in a 
relationship with a woman who has quickly come to dominate his 
entire life.  She treats him horribly and is insanely jealous of any 
woman who simply crosses his path.  He is unfortunately a bit... 
weak-willed when it comes to women, and despite my urgings, can 
not bring himself to tell this... monster off."
     "Sounds like your friend has major problems..." Fujiko 
started to say, trailing off as she handed him his purchase.  For only 
the second time, she looked directly into his eyes.  There was 
anxiety, worry, and anger in his gaze now.
     Suddenly, all the little pieces she knew about him fit 
together.  Having already gone through the really interesting 
magazines at the convenience store, she had recently read in a 
girlie one that said guys were usually emotionally insecure.  So if 
they ever needed to talk about a problem, it was always 'their 
friend', even though they were really talking about themselves.
     It was no wonder that he always turned girls down; he was 
afraid of what his overbearing girlfriend would do.  She was 
probably the reason he was so soft-spoken0, after being forced to 
submit to her will time after time.  Perhaps she even... sexually 
abused him.  That had been in the article too, but she had been too 
embarrassed to finish reading it.
     Satoru nodded again.  "Yes, and I can not stand idly by and 
watch him suffer any longer, but he made me swear to do nothing.  
Though perhaps...  No, forget it.  I shouldn't be bothering you with 
my friend's problems."
     Fujiko waved off his concern.  "Don't worry about it.  I'm 
stuck here in this lousy job anyway, and it beats staring up at the 
ceiling for hours on end.  I don't mind hearing about your 
_friend's_ problems.  Maybe I can even do something to help."
     Satoru was a little worried about the girl's sly wink, but was 
encouraged by the fact that she seemed interested.  Eichi's insane 
scheme might have a chance after all.  "Well, it so happens that 
they should be coming here any minute now.  The woman is just a 
bully, and I'm sure if you simply stood up to her, she would leave 
my friend in peace."
     "Heh, telling people off just happens to be my specialty," 
Fujiko told him smugly.  She had been dealing with bullies, both 
female and male, all her life and never had a problem getting them 
to back down.  They always turned out to be wimps who started 
bawling after the first punch.  "So what does this woman look like?  
The store's not exactly flooded with customers right now, but I 
wouldn't want to pick a fight with the wrong person."
     "She has long blue hair, pale skin, and blue eyes," Satoru 
said, at the same time a little worried about the girl's enthusiasm.  
The succubus seemed happy-go-lucky, but Satoru was sure that if 
one pushed her too far the results could be terrible to behold.  His 
powers should provide some protection, but it would be better if 
the girl had no need of it.
     "You must make it look like you are the one being 
wronged.  For you see... it is not by chance that I am telling you 
this.  My friend recently confessed to me that he has possessed... 
certain feelings for you for some time now, but the shadow of his 
girlfriend, constantly looming over him, has kept him from 
confessing them to you."
     Fujiko took a step back in shock, a deep blush spreading 
from her face to her entire body.  She had to pinch herself to make 
sure it wasn't a dream, because it certainly felt like one.  It wasn't 
every day when a handsome stranger walked up to you and 
confessed his love, even in the guise of 'a friend.'  It was like 
something out of the shojo manga she had been secretly reading.
     "In that case, I guess... I'll help your friend... in whatever 
way I can," Fujiko stuttered out as she looked down at her fingers, 
pushing them together and apart again.  Her blush was beginning to 
fade, leaving behind butterflies in her stomach.  She was so lucky 
this was happening to her, but was also very glad none of her 
friends could see her now.  Though she knew they'd just die of 
envy if they caught her walking around with Satoru on her arm.
     Satoru blinked several times at her extreme reaction.  Eichi 
was right; girls were really moved by secret love confessions.  He 
felt a bit guilty about making a false one then, but also couldn't 
help wondering if it would work on a more mature woman.  "I'd 
better go in the back of the store to observe then.  She's a very 
suspicious woman and if she sees me, she might suspect 
something."
     *In other words, you don't want to suffer her horrible abuse 
if I fail to scare her off,* Fujiko thought with a heart full of pity 
that such a kind, handsome man should be forced to suffer so.
     "Don't worry," she told him with what she hoped was a 
sultry look.  "I'm sure I'll be able to get this inhuman witch to leave 
_your friend_ alone, Satoru-san."
     *How did she know my name?* Satoru wondered, sure that 
their paths had never crossed before.  Still, she was determined to 
go along with the plan, which was all that really mattered.  "Good 
luck... and please be careful, Fujiko-san."
     *How romantic!* Fujiko thought with hearts in her eyes as 
Satoru walked to the back of the convenience store.  The only way 
it could be better was if she already had her motorcycle.  Then after 
the evil ogre woman had been defeated, they could speed away to 
their very first date.

     While Kumiko was busily finding the perfect place to keep 
her jar of glass, so it caught the light in just the right way, Ken 
finished getting dressed.  He felt a little envious of the demon-girl's 
quick change abilities, especially the fact that she didn't need to 
buy clothes, but didn't think it was worth spending all of eternity in 
Hell for.  He also made a mental note to call the landlady later to 
see about getting the window fixed, doing his best not to think of 
how much it would cost him.  Maybe his parents would be willing 
to give him a loan, as long as they weren't too curious about what it 
was for.  He didn't think they'd believe an angel smashed his 
window.
     "Ready for some breakfast, Kumiko?" Ken asked with 
some amusement as the demon-girl watched the light play over the 
shards of glass with rapt attention.
     "Yum!" Kumiko exclaiming, catching her slave in a flying 
tackle that knocked them onto his bed.  He could have sworn she'd 
been dressed a moment ago as she pressed her naked body against 
him and said in a sultry tone, "But you're tasty too, Ken-chan.  I 
could eat you all up."
     *Well, I'm in no rush to leave,* Ken thought as he brought 
his head up to kiss her lips.  Only to blink in surprise as the demon-
girl suddenly stood up, now fully dressed, and added with a giggle, 
"On second thought, I think I'll save you for desert!"
     Ken eyed her suspiciously.  "If I didn't know better, I'd 
think you were teasing me again."
     "Would I do something like that?" Kumiko asked with a 
overly-innocent expression as she batted her eyes at him.  It made 
her much too cute for him to be mad at her, especially in the 
sleeveless shirt and short skirt that she had decided to wear.
     "Yes, you would," he answered her with a smile.  "You're 
an evil demon from Hell, after all."
     Kumiko laughed she threw her arms around him again, 
though more gently this time, sitting on his lap as she looked into 
his eyes.  "And you're my sex slave, who I still need to teach 
properly and punish when he misbehaves.  Don't forget that."
     "I haven't forgotten," Ken replied with a slight frown, 
wishing that she hadn't brought up.  Just the thought of her whip 
was enough to dampen his good mood.  It was then he remembered 
that he had spent all of his ready cash last night.  "Do you still have 
the money Natsume gave you, Kumiko?"
     Kumiko nodded and held out her palm, which now 
contained several yen bills.  Ken wondered where she had been 
keeping them all this time as he reached out for them, only for the 
demon-girl to pull away from him suddenly, clutching the yen 
protectively while turning her back to him.  "They're mine!  You 
can't have them!"
     "You're right, they are yours Kumiko.  You earned it," Ken 
told her in a calm voice as he walked up to her.  He knew that 
pointing out that she had spent the money he had earned would get 
him nowhere.  "But you'll have to spend that money if you want 
breakfast.  I was only going to help you collect the prizes you 
want."
     "Well, I guess that's okay," Kumiko reluctantly agreed 
while still clutching the yen bills to her bosom.  "But I'll just hold 
onto them until then... Are you sure I have to exchange them?"
     "Yes, I'm sure, but you can get more by helping Natsume," 
Ken answered as he headed to the door, the demon-girl following 
close behind.
     Kumiko shivered a bit, remembering her dream that 
morning.  Though she would have to face that suspicious girl if she 
wanted to win more human prizes, not to mention the colorful yen 
that she exchanged for them.  "Do you think she'll have more yen 
for us if we see her after breakfast?"
     "Maybe.  We'll have to visit her and see," Ken replied, 
shutting the door behind them.

     Ayame sat at one of the several tables that filled the main 
room of the coffee shop, watching the sunlight pour through the 
many windows to flood the place with morning light.  The angel-
girl smiled to feel its gentle warmth, reminding her of heavenly 
comfort.
     It nearly dispelled her earlier anxiety.  Dread created when 
Natsume had commented how strong she must be in order to move 
all those heavy tables by herself.  Her host had gotten dressed and 
helped her to put everything back that Ayame had moved to polish 
the floor.  Because of the supernatural strength that had always 
been part of being an angel, she had easily lifted those tables 
before, not even considering how unusual the feat would be for a 
mortal.  
     Ayame had tried to convince Natsume that she had only 
done so with great difficulty, and believed she had succeeded, 
though she also realized someone could have been watching her 
through the large windows that made up the front of the shop.  She 
had been so focused on her task that someone could have observed 
her unnoticed.  It was, however, unlikely due to the early hour.  
Still, she had been in the mortal world for less than a day and had 
nearly given away her true identity.  How would she ever manage a 
full year?
     "The fish is almost done now, Ayame!" Natsume shouted to 
her from the kitchen in the back of the shop.  "I hope you're ready 
for Natsume's world famous breakfast.  Well, famous to my family 
anyway."
     "I'm sure it will be wonderful, Natsume," Ayame called 
back to her.  That was yet another thing to worry about.  The angel-
girl's mind was revolted by the idea of being so wasteful, but she 
could now admit it was more due to the idea of polluting her body 
with such... substances.  However, not eating was another clue to 
her angelic nature, and she could also tell that this meal was 
important to her host.  *What if it tastes bad?  Should I lie to her 
and tell her it's good?  Will I be able to lie to her?*
     "I hope I haven't lost my touch," Natsume said as she 
padded into the room on socked feet, weighed down by a heavy 
platter.  "It's been a while since I've had to cook for more than just 
myself so most of my previous meals have come straight out of the 
microwave.  I'm a bit out of practice in cooking for real.  The food 
I plan on serving in my coffee shop is all simple stuff so I haven't 
really worried about it before."
     "Here, let me help you," Ayame said as she stood up 
anxiously.  Any minute she expected Natsume to trip and spill the 
breakfast all over the floor she had just spent so much time 
polishing.
     "No, you sit and leave everything to me.  You're my guest, 
after all," Natsume insisted with a smile as she set the platter down 
on the table next to the one where Ayame sat.
     "Grilled fish, bowl of rice, miso soup, and some chopsticks 
to gobble it all down with," Natsume identified each item in turn as 
she stood behind her guest and leaned close to lay each dish before 
her.  Trying not to get too distracted from the task at hand, the 
sandy-haired girl couldn't help noticing the scent of cherry 
blossoms that filled the air close to her guest.  Could it be possible 
that Ayame was wearing perfume, for her?  Then again, maybe it 
was just the shampoo she used.
     Ayame was too focused on the food appearing before her to 
notice how close her host was, even when hands accidentally 
brushed against the angel-girl's long hair.  She thought that while 
the containers which held them bore pleasingly intricate designs, 
the grilled fish and miso soup looked gross.  One was the carcass 
of a dead animal, the other a green sludge.  The scents that wafted 
up from them, however, tickled at her nose in a most enjoyable 
way, causing her to smile even if she didn't quite understand the 
reason.  However, she wasn't sure if she liked this uncontrolled 
reaction.  The rice was the most non-threatening dish, reminding 
her of snow, and with no scents to disturb her.
     "I'm sorry for not using fresh fish or other fresh ingredients.  
Like I said before, I wasn't really prepared for guests," Natsume 
apologized as she quickly laid out her own breakfast at the place 
setting opposite Ayame.
     The angel-girl frowned mentally, being careful not to let it 
appear on her face.  Her host must have noticed her distaste as she 
had eyed the fish and miso, thinking it was her fault.  Ayame didn't 
want Natsume to feel uncomfortable, especially when the angel-
girl hoped to be allowed to stay a while longer, so quickly told her, 
"No, no, you shouldn't be concerned with that.  It couldn't look any 
better even if it was fresh."
     "You're too kind, Ayame," Natsume said with a small smile 
as she reached across the table to pour her guest some tea and then 
to herself.  Finally, she sat herself before the breakfast she had 
prepared and announced, "Ititakimasu!"
     Ayame noticed that all of Natsume's attention was focused 
on her as she watched with a smile from across the table, her 
chopsticks ready but making no move to eat.  The angel-girl 
assumed it was customary for the guest to take the first bite, so 
picked up her chopsticks, somewhat awkwardly manipulating them 
to grasp a small misshapen ball of rice.  Nervously, she slowly 
brought the rice to her lips, only for it to slip out of her grasp and 
land with a splat on the table.
     Natsume giggled.  It seemed that while her guest knew how 
to hold her chopsticks, she had never tried eating with them before.  
"No, Ayame.  Like this," the sandy-haired girl instructed as she 
picked up the small bowl of rice and proceeded to shovel some of 
its contents into her mouth.
     Blushing faintly in embarrassment, Ayame nodded.  
Bringing the rice bowl close to her face this time, she tried again, 
only spilling a few grains as she scooped the rice into her mouth.  
Almost fearfully, she chewed her food, all the while Natsume 
looked back at her curiously.  Drawing upon her courage, she 
finally swallowed, and then smiled.  The food brought such a light, 
pleasant sensation that she felt silly in being so afraid of it before.
     Natsume couldn't help giggling again.  It was as if her guest 
had never eaten anything before.  Setting aside her chopsticks, she 
took the miso bowl in both hands, bringing the rim close to her 
lips.  "And you don't use a spoon for miso soup.  You drink it like 
this."
     Ayame watched closely as Natsume tilted the bowl back 
and sipped at its contents.  She thought it was a bit dangerous, 
risking spilling the soup all over one's clothes or the newly 
polished floor, but it would please her host to follow Japanese 
customs.  Besides, the rice had been an enjoyable surprise.  It was 
possible that this other food, despite its appearance, could be even 
better.  She picked up her own bowl in both hands and very 
carefully sipped.
     Ayame blinked, nearly dropping the bowl in astonishment.  
It was an experience she could not find the words to describe, only 
that it was an overwhelmingly positive one.  How could bliss, 
however short, be contained in one small sip?  *Is all human food 
like this?*
     "Too salty?" Natsume asked in concern to see her guest's 
extreme reaction.  The other woman looked like she was in a state 
of shock.  Maybe she was allergic to miso soup.
     Natsume's words brought Ayame out of her daze.  With 
hands shaking slightly, she set the bowl down and explained, "No, 
I was simply surprised.  I had no idea... foreign food would taste 
like this.  It's really much too... extraordinary for words.  It makes 
me wonder what I've missed."
     Natsume adjusted her glasses, blushing deeply over such 
praise.  Her family had liked her cooking, so much so that her 
parents had encouraged her to attend culinary school instead, but 
she was hardly world class, especially after not doing much real 
cooking for two years.
     "I guess it's pretty different from western cooking, but you'll 
get used to it pretty quickly.  If you plan on staying in Japan for a 
while longer, that is," Natsume said conversationally, trying not to 
show how interested she was in Ayame's reply.
     The angel-girl sighed and told her host, "I have no choice 
but to remain in Japan for the meantime.  I have some... unfinished 
business here that is likely to take a long time to resolve."
     Natsume nodded sympathetically, again feeling sorry for 
the girl before her.  She had come all this way, a trip which must 
have cost her everything she owned since she didn't even have a 
suitcase, only to be so casually spurned by her love, Kumiko.  
Natsume knew from experience that that was a hard thing to get 
over.  At least Ayame's first love hadn't left with a short note, never 
to be seen again.  "Well, you're welcome to stay with me as long as 
you want, Ayame."
     Ayame looked up into Natsume's gentle, smiling face and 
could not believe her good fortune to have met a woman as 
generous as this, willing to give even the clothes off her back to a 
complete stranger.  The angel-girl had to wonder if her superior 
Noriaki had been aiding her after all.  "If it won't be an 
inconvenience..."
     "Inconvenience?  Nope, in fact its fun having another girl 
staying with me.  Things have been just a bit too quiet for me ever 
since I moved out of the dorms," Natsume told her with a wide 
grin, delighted that Ayame actually wanted to stay with her.
     "You really are too kind," Ayame said with a smile of her 
own.  "However, I need to do something to return your hospitality 
or I'll really feel that I'm taking advantage of you.  Perhaps I can 
help run your coffee shop when it opens.  I admit to not knowing 
much about it, but I'd do my best to learn."
     "That'd be great!  I actually needed to hire only one more 
person, so this works out perfectly," Natsume enthused, while 
trying to block the image of Ayame in a waitress outfit from her 
mind.  Then she realized just who Ayame would be working with, 
and frowned.  She wanted Ayame to feel comfortable living there, 
but she didn't want to loose Ken or his new girlfriend as 
employees.  *As long as I keep them on separate shifts, there 
shouldn't be any problem though.*
     "Enough about all that stuff, we can argue about who owes 
who later.  Breakfast is getting cold and you haven't even touched 
your fish yet," Natsume pointed out, starting in on her own first 
this time to make sure there wasn't anything wrong with it.  She 
used a bit too much seasoning, but it should be okay.
     Ayame apologized with a light blush, reacquiring her 
chopsticks as she watched her host eat.  After she was confident 
that she wouldn't embarrass herself, the angel-girl carefully tore off 
a bit of her fish and popped it in her mouth.
     "Ayame!" Natsume shouted in panic, leaping out of her seat 
and catching the other woman before she fell to the ground.  The 
sandy-haired girl wondered if her guest was anemic or something.  
While the fish was a bit spicy, it was hardly enough to warrant a 
dead faint.
     Ayame's eyes fluttered open, only to stare into the 
concerned expression of her host only inches away from her.  She 
had thought that after the soup, she would have been ready for 
anything, but the fish... perhaps it was no wonder that angels didn't 
sample human food if it made them react this way.  "I'm sorry, 
Natsume.  The fish is quite good."
     For a while, her guest's words didn't even register to 
Natsume, who was lost in her embrace.  It felt like ages since she 
had last held another woman so close, and none had been so soft or 
as comfortably warm as Ayame.  She didn't want the moment to 
end, but realized if it didn't soon, she'd likely be short one guest.
     "No, it's all my fault.  I used way too much seasoning!" 
Natsume insisted as she quickly let go of the other girl and returned 
to her seat, all the time adjusting her glasses which seemed 
unwilling to stay on her face.
     Noting her host's red face, Ayame realized that she must 
have embarrassed the sensitive girl with the odd way she had been 
acting.  "I can't find a single fault with your cooking.  This is easily 
the best food I've ever tasted.  You should be proud of your skills."
     "You can't tell that from only one bite," Natsume replied 
with a smile, doing her best to hide her embarrassment.  Realizing 
how much she was now staring at Ayame, she focused fully on the 
breakfast before her, hoping that her cheeks would stop burning 
sometime soon.
     Ayame thought that the food was simply too good to be 
wasted on a proto-angel like herself, one that was on probation no 
less, but could tell by her host's words how important it was to a 
cook for her meal to be eaten and appreciated.  So Ayame was left 
with no choice but to consume all that lay before her, feeling 
progressively more guilty the more that she enjoyed it.

     With Kumiko at his side, Ken stepped out into the nearly 
empty streets of early morning.  The power of the sun was finally 
melting away the last of the night's lingering chill and most people 
were only beginning to awake.  He knew that all of the places he 
could get breakfast at would be open by now, but after last night's 
incident, he was reluctant to go to any sort of caf�.
     Ken eventually decided on the local convenience store.  
There he could purchase the basics of food to go with all the 
condiments he had at home, thus saving precious yen.  He could 
also get a little present for the demon-girl, a subtle bribe so she 
wouldn't be reluctant to part with her money, or think her slave 
needed to be punished any time soon.
     *Hey, I haven't seen her here before,* Ken thought, noting 
the cute girl behind the counter who was idly thumbing through a 
motorcycle magazine.  She had dark shoulder-length hair, drawn 
into a short pony-tail in back, and long bangs that nearly obscured 
eyes in front.  The leather jacket that she wore looked like it had 
been in a few accidents.  He marched through the sliding glass 
doors like a zombie, his eyes focused completely on her.
     "Excuse... me miss," Eichi said as he darted in to keep the 
succubus from following Ken inside.
     "Me?" Kumiko asked in confusion, pointing to herself.
     "Yes," Eichi confirmed, relieved that she wasn't quite as 
threatening up close as he had been expecting.  Then he realized 
he'd been so worried about what the succubus might do to him that 
he never actually had come up with a plan to delay her.  "Umm, I 
was only wondering what your relationship to Ken was..."
     Ken headed straight for the counter, intending to say a few 
polite things like good morning, how's business, and things like 
that.  Kumiko couldn't get angry at him just for being friendly to a 
pretty girl.  *Where is Kumiko anyway?* he thought in mid-step, 
realizing too late that she had stopped at the door.
     Fujiko was busy hiding a determined look behind her 
favorite magazine.  She had tried reading an article to relax herself, 
but couldn't concentrate on the words when her target could walk 
through the door at any moment.  She didn't want to look ready for 
a fight though.  It would work best if the girl didn't suspect 
anything until it was too late.
     She glanced over as the chime sounded, announcing a new 
customer, but sighed in disappointment to see the newcomer was 
male.  Fujiko was feeling so tense already that she wanted to get it 
over with quickly.  It was just like racing; the more she thought 
about it, the bigger the chance of her screwing it all up.  And she 
didn't like to lose, in racing or in matters of the heart.
     Fujiko blinked in surprise when the new customer tripped 
over absolutely nothing to land painfully on his back.  *What a 
moron,* she thought with a small chuckle as she glanced at him 
again, then paused, blinking in surprise.
     She realized he was Ken Iwakami, another guy she had 
heard about, but in this case nothing good.  He was supposed to be 
a notorious letch and pervert who hit on any woman that crossed 
his path.  *I hope he doesn't try talking to me.  I need all of my 
strength to fight the blue-haired witch!*
     Kumiko was staring into the man's shocked expression, 
trying to determine the reason for it.  She had only told him that 
Ken was her sex slave; why should that be so surprising?  Then she 
felt a violent tug on her wrist, propelling her forward to smack 
foreheads with the man, who unnoticed to her, immediately 
crumpled in a heap.
     Clutching her head to avert the minor headache coming on, 
and generally annoyed by the ringing in her ears, Kumiko staggered 
into the convenience store.  Spotting Ken lying on the floor, the 
demon-girl's eyes narrowed.  "What do you think you're doing?!"
     "Leave the guy alone!  He just tripped!" Fujiko shouted 
back at the newcomer, doing her best to hide a smile.  Blue hair, 
blue eyes, and so pushy that she would scream at a complete 
stranger for no good reason.  This had to be Satoru's overbearing 
girlfriend.
     Kumiko very slowly glanced up to the woman who had just 
spoken, a puzzled expression on her face.  Why would this stranger 
stick up for Ken unless...  It was just like her dream.  This woman 
wanted the demon-girl's slave for herself.  Well, she wasn't about 
to let that happen.  *Ken is mine!*
     "Butt out, ugly!" Kumiko yelled back at her as she picked 
Ken up, failing to notice how much his eyes bugged out as she held 
him around the neck in an iron grip.  "This is between me and 
him!"
     Fujiko's calm lasted for all of three seconds.  "Ugly?!  At 
least I don't dress up like some cheap tramp and flaunt my assets at 
any man who happens to walk by!  And I bet your bust is about as 
real as that cheap blue hair dye!" she shouted back as she leaned 
over the counter, unable to believe how shameless this woman was 
to be grabbing at a stranger in public like that.  Satoru was afraid to 
even look at another woman, but of course she could do whatever 
she wanted.  Women like that just made Fujiko sick.
     "There's nothing wrong with the way I'm dressed!" Kumiko 
yelled back in irritation.  She had spent a lot of time that morning 
choosing her outfit from Ken's manga collection.  It had been a 
surprise how many nice outfits were considered improper in public.  
"And my slave said it looked good on me, so there!"
     Fujiko stuttered in rage, unable to believe that this... demon 
could say that poor Satoru was her slave, just like that.  "He only 
said that because he was scared of what you'd do if he didn't!"
     Ken suddenly found himself dropped to the floor.  He 
wasn't about to complain since he could breathe again, though he 
was starting to feel uncomfortably warm.  Looking up, he found 
the reason why.  Kumiko stood firmly, fists clenched, head down 
with eyes shut, but also faintly glowing with a flickering flame that 
encased her whole body.
     Backing fearfully away from the demon-girl, Ken wondered 
where this sudden confrontation had come from.  He was positive 
that he had never met the convenience store girl before, and this 
was going a little too far for just a stranger concerned about his 
welfare.  She could be picking a fight out of boredom, but he didn't 
think she'd be this vicious.  Could she be a secret admirer?  Ken 
knew he was that lucky, but he hoped that it wasn't another angel 
out for blood.
     Eichi was roused from a pleasant dream involving sending 
his sister to Hell, to be replaced with a blurry image of Nobu 
recording something with his camcorder, and a dull stab of pain 
from the front of his skull.  *What the heck happened?*  All he 
could remember is a pair of red eyes boring into his, then darkness.
     Finding himself sprawled out on the sidewalk, Eichi 
attempted to stand, only to discover his sense of balance had gone 
for a coffee break.  The best he could do was kneel next to Nobu, 
tugging on the treasurer's pant leg.  "Wasa happin'?" he slurred.
     "The succubus looks ready to explode!" Nobu enthused at a 
whisper, still keeping his camcorder trained upon the scene 
unfolding in the convenience store.  "She looks so magnificent 
when she's angry."
     Getting the general gist of things, Eichi nodded.  It sounded 
like everything was going to plan; not that he could remember what 
the plan was at the moment.  "Good, good," he whispered back.  
"So long as she doesn't blow up the store.  I think I need an 
aspirin."
     Nobu glanced down to see the president had passed out 
again, shrugged, and returned to his filming.  He couldn't bear to 
miss a single moment of the goddess in action.
     At the back of the store, where he had been taking pictures 
the moment Ken had entered, Satoru felt a sudden chill creep up 
his back.  The same chill he had felt just before the bunny-girls had 
ambushed him.  Fujiko had ignored his advice and done the one 
thing that he had dreaded:  she had pushed the succubus too far.
     Holding the mystical orb in his fist, Satoru began to inch 
forward while muttering a mantra that was supposed to remove all 
sense of his presence.  If he managed to knock the succubus 
unconscious with the orb, then maybe no one would get hurt.  Most 
likely he'd be the one getting very hurt, but feeling responsible for 
getting Fujiko into this mess, he had to try something.  At least the 
demon was finally acting the way a succubi should.
     Fujiko wasn't the least bit impressed by her opponent's 
show of anger.  In fact, she smiled, the sweet taste of victory on the 
tip of her tongue.  All it would take was one more push and she 
knew this girl would come out swinging.  Then she'd just deck her 
and claim her prize.  "I know he was lying to you because he told 
me himself; how frightened he was of you, how much he hated the 
sight of you, and how he'd do anything to get away from you."
     "No, that's not true," Kumiko muttered to herself, head 
down.  "He's my slave, he has to do what I say...  He has to like me.  
He has to stay with me.  He has to!!"
     When the girl's head snapped up with a inhuman growl, 
Fujiko knew fear.  It was all there in the woman's red eyes, her 
fangs, her claws as she reached out for her.  All she could do was 
watch as five razor edges neared her throat, paralyzed with fright.
     The sound of the slap echoed loudly in the now silent 
convenience store.  The others could only stare in shock as Ken 
pulled his hand away, and Kumiko stared back at him, one hand 
now on her reddened cheek.
     Eichi was filled with glee, sure that Nobu had recorded 
whatever supernatural activity had taken place that he couldn't 
make out with his blurred vision.  It also looked as if Ken had 
finally spurred the evil yet enchanting succubus.  It was a shame 
that his other brilliant plans would go unused, but perhaps he could 
salvage them for himself.
     Nobu burned with so much rage that his normally steady 
camera hand was shaking with suppressed fury.  How dare that... 
scum Ken harm a single perfect hair on the goddess's exquisite 
head?  For her sake, he could stomach the idea of the two having a 
close relationship, but this abuse simply could not be tolerated.  If 
it took the combined powers of heaven and hell, Nobu would see 
justice served against the true demon... Ken.
     Satoru breathed a sigh of relief as the potential disaster had 
been diverted somehow.  Perhaps the supernatural wasn't his true 
calling after all.  He hadn't realized just how dangerous it was 
before, putting innocent lives at risk, not to mention his own.  
     Satoru idly wondered if his old manager was still in the 
business.  He was having women problems as it was; he might as 
well get paid for it.  Besides, it had to be a whole lot safer than 
angering powerful succubi.
     When the blue-haired woman had lunged towards her, 
Fujiko had been absolutely certain she was going to die.  She had 
been in motorcycle accidents before that had been only a few feet 
away from serious injury or even death, but she had never felt that 
same certainty as she had in looking into those red eyes.  Even after 
surviving somehow, she knew those eyes would haunt her dreams 
for a long time to come.
     Ironically, she had the most infamous man on campus to 
thank for saving her life.  She began to wonder if all those rumors 
that surrounded him were just that, and that he was really a nice 
guy simply cursed with bad luck.  Then she looked at him and 
shook her head; she could tell he was a pervert just by looking at 
him.  Probably had only done it to ask her out.  She supposed that 
she did owe him a date at least, but she could handle him if he got 
too fresh.
     Then there was her own reward.  It had nearly cost her life, 
but she had freed Satoru from the shackles of his evil girlfriend, 
leaving him free to express his love for her.  There would be a 
happy ending after all.
     Ken didn't know what to think.  It had been just like the 
time the angel had attacked.  Kumiko slipped into some sort of 
killing haze, and he snapped her out of it before she could do 
something they'd both regret.  Then why did he feel so terrible 
inside when she stared back at him with hurt eyes?
     Kumiko had never been alone before.  From her earliest 
memories, Ayame had been there for her.  Even after they had 
parted, the demon-girl knew that somewhere out there was her 
good friend, to run to if she ever needed her again.  Only last night 
did she discover that for nearly a hundred years, she had been 
living under false hope, a dream.  Her 'friend' loathed her very 
existence and never wanted to see her again.
     That was when Kumiko had discovered she already had 
someone else to run to, someone to comfort her when her normally 
cheerful outlook seemed hollow.  Now she realized that too was a 
lie.  He was only a slave; just a puppet who did what she wanted 
because he hadn't any other choice.
     Wordlessly, Kumiko fled, not even noticing Ken dragging 
along behind her on the end of the chain that bound them together.



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