Rosario + Vampire Fanfiction--Mizore x Moka

Author's Note: Most of the people reading this probably haven't seen the anime Rosario + Vampire, nor have you read the manga--but I'm sure you will be able to enjoy reading this nonetheless. This fanfiction is indeed a yuri, with the paring of Inner Moka and Mizore. If you don't like yuri then don't read it. (yuri means the romance is between two girls.) There are some slightly mature themes in this, though there aren't any lemons. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rosario + Vampire. This story was written purely for entertainment; I do not profit in any way from posting this. All rights go to their respective owners. Thank you!

Mizore Shirayuki was not having a good day. Today was her first day back at Youkai Academy, and it was not going well. She woke up in a chronic bad mood, forgetting her favorite flavor of lollipops in her room—mint, forcing her to go to the school store later to buy some. She toyed with the grape lollipop in her mouth, walking down the path to the school.

            She pulled her wide sleeves over her hands, relishing the cool breeze over her bare shoulders. Mizore giggled to herself in anticipation at seeing Tsukune again today, her one-and-only. Tsukune was being pursued by a few other girls as well—Kurumu, the succubus, Moka, the vampire, and Yukari, a witch, although she didn’t consider Yukari any competition. Tsukune saw her only as a sister and nothing more.

            Mizore was nothing if not loyal, and despite her long rivalry with Moka and Kurumu, they were still the only friends she had. Mizore especially liked Moka, who was sweet, caring, thoughtful…everything Mizore wanted in a future mate.

            She stopped suddenly. Did I…did I just think Moka would be like my ideal mate? Once the thought process started, it couldn’t stop. Moka would be a great girlfriend, but for a guy, not me! But…do I want her as my girlfriend? Mizore’s jaw dropped and her purple lollipop fell out. She didn’t notice.

            All this time I’ve been chasing after Tsukune, when my one-and-only had been there the whole time…No. I can’t take her away from Tsukune. He’s the only one who can take off her rosario. I don’t want Inner Moka to be trapped forever. Mizore frowned. Who said Tsukune was the only one who could take it off? All the other girls were monsters and could defend themselves; the only person who tried consistently was her sister Kokoa, to no avail.

            In that one second, Mizore realized that she didn’t love Tsukune. She loved Moka. She knew what she had to do.

            “You want us to what?!” Kurumu Korono gasped, hands on her hips, glaring at Mizore.

            “Exactly what I said. I want us to stop chasing after Tsukune. It’s obvious only Moka could make him happy.” Despite the fact that she didn’t have feelings for him anymore, Mizore still felt a pang in her chest at the thought of giving up on him. She had tried for two years to get him to be hers; what would she do without that purpose? Determined, she pushed that thought away and mirrored Kurumu’s stance.

            “I can NOT give up on Tsukune! He’s my Destined One! I refuse to lose to that vampire!”

            Mizore shrugged then, her hands falling back to her sides. “I can’t force you to do anything, but we all know that you’ll never get him. Tsukune loves Moka.” The instant she said it, Mizore realized it was exactly the wrong thing to say.

            “No, he loves me! I can get him and I will! I don’t care if you go after him or not anymore—that just means less competition, not that you were any from the start.” Mizore let that comment wash over her. She had tried her hardest with Tsukune and it failed. That just meant she had to move on. Move on to Moka.

            To Moka…

            In literature class that day, Mizore’s favorite, Tsukune wasn’t there. She sat in the seat in front of him, all-too-aware of Moka’s presence two seats behind her. She cupped her cheek in one hand and stared out the window. It would be raining soon. That meant Moka would have to stay in her dorm room.

            Mizore found herself remembering all the times she had seen Inner Moka. The one time they really talked was when her cooking teacher went crazy trying to turn everyone into curry monsters. She had made ice curry for all her friends, which they loved. She remembered the way she had agonized over that curry for Tsukune, when in reality she wanted Moka to eat it. Inner Moka had always been arrogant and cold and enigmatic, yet Mizore still wanted to be closer to her. She had no idea how to go about telling Moka of her devotion; she didn’t even know if she should. Moka would be happier with Tsukune.

            “Uh, Mizore…?” Nekonome’s voice broke in on her thoughts. “Did you hear that?”

            “Hear what?” she asked in her quiet voice.

            “You’re going to be doing a project on someone famous in literature. I’m going to choose your partner and your assignment. Okay?”

            Mizore nodded.

            “Okay…” Nekonome checked her roster and said, without looking up, “You’ll be with Miss Akashiya, doing a project on...” she thought for a moment. “Sappho.”  

            Moka was having mixed feelings. Tsukune wasn’t in class that day, and she had a clear view of Mizore from behind. Her green eyes admired her short purple hair, the pale shade of her shoulders. Moka felt something warm pool in her belly, something she felt only when she caught sight of Tsukune or sucked his blood. Is that attraction? Am I attracted to Mizore? Moka shook her head, as if capable of flinging the thoughts out of her mind. She pushed them away and resolutely stared at her notebook. She began repeating to herself ‘I love Tsukune,’ almost as if to convince herself of it.

            Mizore was having some difficulty restraining herself around Moka. They planned on meeting out by the strange red ocean, to feel the breeze and just talk about how they plan to do their project. She laughed to herself at the irony of being assigned Sappho, the ancient lesbian poet. Just my luck, Mizore thought. She didn’t have a clue how this would turn out, only that it was bound to be awkward.

            “Mizore!” She turned and saw Moka running towards her, fear in her eyes. Mizore leapt up off the ground instantly, noticing for the first time the monster racing after Moka. Moka caught up to her and Mizore shoved her behind her, glaring down the beast.

            “What are you doing to Moka?” she demanded, her voice giving her words an effect opposite of what she wanted. He merely laughed, walking towards them slowly, as if to give them time to relish the fear. They didn’t.

            “She wouldn’t let me screw around with her! What kind of bitch does that?!” Mizore almost laughed at this. Moka had been in this situation more times than she could count. Tsukune wasn’t anywhere around to take off her rosario, so Mizore would have to fight him. She transformed into her monster form and snarled. She would get pleasure out of fighting this bastard.

            To both girl’s surprise, he laughed. “You don’t know what kind of monster I am, do you, Yuki-Onna?” Mizore didn’t reply, only stared at him wordlessly. “I am a fire monster!” He flung a ball of fire at Mizore, who stayed in front of Moka, protecting her.

            The fire struck her chest, and instantly she was enveloped with a heat she had never felt before. It spread all throughout her body, agonizingly hot.

            Moka watched as Mizore took a fire blow for her, watched as she crumpled to the ground in pain. “Mizore!” she screamed, kneeling down beside her. Mizore’s eyes were shut tight. Moka lightly touched the side of her face and Mizore’s eyes fluttered open.

            “Moka…” she said, reaching up to do the same. She missed, though, and her hand fell, but not before tearing off her rosario. Mizore’s eyes closed once more, and they did not open again.

            Inner Moka stood, angrily facing the monster. This Moka had known for quite awhile that she loved Mizore; it was only her outer self who had difficulty coming to terms with these things. She glared at him, enraged beyond belief.

            “Know your place!” she screamed as she kicked him, sending him spinning a great distance away.

            Mizore became aware of several things at once. First, she was completely naked. Second, she was covered by what felt like silk sheets, though she couldn’t be certain. Third, she wasn’t in her own room, which smelled like winter, frost and mint. This room smelled like strawberries and loneliness (she knew because Mizore had grown quite acquainted with loneliness over the years).

            “I know you’re awake,” came a strangely familiar yet unfamiliar voice. Mizore’s eyes fluttered and opened. Inner Moka stood over her, white hair cascading beautifully down her back. Mizore’s breath caught and a faint blush stained her cheeks. Moka wore nothing but a red silk sheet clutched tightly to her chest, much like the one covering Mizore now.

            “M-Moka? What happened? Where am I?”

            “You’re in my room. That guy beat you up pretty badly; I hadn’t realized just how much you needed to be cold.” Moka paused, red eyes searching Mizore’s ice blue ones. “Why didn’t you move?” she asked abruptly. “I’m a vampire; I would have healed much faster than you and I wouldn’t have been hurt nearly as badly.”

            Mizore paused. She knew why she hadn’t moved, and she had a pretty good idea that Moka had a strong suspicion, but she wasn’t quite ready to admit the whole truth, so she told Moka as much as she possibly could at this point, mumbling her answer incoherently.

            “I’m sorry, what?”

            “I didn’t want him to mar your beautiful skin,” Mizore muttered, barely a decibel louder than her previous statement. Moka’s eyes narrowed.

            “I thought it was something along those lines.”

            Mizore stood then, her hand instinctively moving to hold the sheet just above her breasts, more out of habit than modesty. Her head spun with the sudden movement, but after a few seconds she was able to steady herself, looking up into Moka’s beautiful red eyes. “How long have you known?” she asked.

            Moka didn’t answer at first, instead letting her sheet fall and grabbing Mizore’s wrists, causing her sheet to drop to the floor as well. Mizore barely had time to gasp before Moka had her pushed against the wall, one leg insinuated between the snow woman’s readily parted ones.

            Moka leaned in, her mouth grazing the tip of Mizore’s pale ear. “My other self has believed herself to be in love with Tsukune for quite awhile, Mizore. But I was attracted to you the first moment I saw you; in fact, I found myself wanting to be out all the time in order to protect you. You’ve nearly been raped many times, haven’t you? If I had been there, they never would have seen the light of day again.”

            “You would have killed them?” Mizore asked, her breath hitching at the sensation of Moka’s cool breath washing over her. She felt rather than saw Moka’s smile.

            “There are things far worse than death, Mizore.” Moka dragged her lips down the side of Mizore’s neck then. Mizore was certain that if Moka hadn’t held her against the wall, she would have fallen.

            Inner Moka smiled to herself as she kissed the side of the snow woman’s neck. She knew exactly what she was doing to her; she felt her legs turn to jelly and she heard the soft gasp she emitted.

            Stop, Outer Moka’s voice said in her mind. Don’t you see what you’re doing to her?! Besides, we love Tsukune!

            No, Inner Moka thought back. You think we do, but in reality neither of us are in love with the pathetic human. I used him for blood, and you used him for your little fantasies, now didn’t you? You wanted the perfect little romance with him, when the truth is that both of us are in love with Mizore.

            “Moka…” Mizore whispered, bringing Moka’s attention back to the purple-haired girl and away from her inner argument.

            “Yes?”           

            “I want…will you…can I…” Mizore trailed off, her cheeks pink. She turned her head to the side.

            “What is it?” Moka asked, not ungently.

            “Will you bite me?”

           

            When Moka leaned in and scraped her teeth against Mizore’s neck, she thought she would burst. The initial sting of the bite hurt, though not as much as she anticipated, and then there was warmth and the sensation of Moka’s lips on her neck, which wasn’t at all unpleasant. Mizore’s hands fisted where Moka held them, her eyes shutting. She spread her legs more to situate herself on Moka’s thigh.

            The vampire released her wrists to grab her waist and push her harder against the wall. Mizore immediately twined her arms around her neck, threading her silky white hair through her fingers.

           

            Mizore’s blood was even more delicious than Tsukune’s was. Moka savored every drop of her blood that she could; when she felt Mizore becoming weak from blood loss and not the sensations Moka caused, she pulled back, loving Mizore’s expression almost as much as her blood. Moka felt Mizore’s wetness on her leg and smirked.

            “Moka…I…I don’t want to be used for my blood or for-for sex,” Mizore stammered, suddenly embarrassed, embarrassed that Moka could make her feel such things and that she had let it go on for so long.

            “You really think I’m using you?” Not that sex is a bad idea, Moka thought to herself. Oh, stop that! Outer Moka chastised. We can’t use her like this! Let her go and put the rosario back on! Inner Moka ignored her requests, choosing instead to pry Mizore’s arms from her neck and hold them, with one hand on her wrists, over Mizore’s head.

            “Mizore,” Moka murmured softly. “I love you.” Mizore blushed profusely, her ice blue eyes widening to impossible proportions. She struggled against Moka’s grasp then, causing the vampire to let go, more so out of shock that Mizore wanted her to let go than anything else. The snow woman grabbed a sheet to cover herself and dashed out of the room.

            In the safety of her own room, Mizore put on her trademark thigh-high socks, her blue and white striped panties, and the black tank top she wore underneath her white shirt. She curled up on her bed and sucked absentmindedly on a mint lollipop.

            Why did Moka tell me she loved me? Does she really…can she really…love me?

           

            Inner Moka stared at the door, remembering seeing Mizore run through it just moments ago. She knew Mizore was the one for her. She knew she loved Mizore. Moka sighed and clicked on her rosario. These things could be resolved later.

            Moka’s silver hair turned to pink, and she fell to the floor with a thud.

            Why did my other self tell Mizore she loved her? Am I in love with her as well? Moka thought back on all her times with Tsukune. She loved the taste of his blood, that she freely admitted, but did she love him as anything more than a friend and…a snack? Moka shook herself mentally. Why is this so hard to figure out? I’m not a lesbian!

            Ah, but you are, her other self replied through the rosario. I’ve known it for quite awhile. Since I was a child, at least. Vampires aren’t meant to shy away from their true nature. Admit it, you love Mizore just as much as I do. When was the last time Tsukune truly excited you?

            Moka had to think about that for a minute. Tsukune…he never did excite me, did he. It wasn’t a question and both Mokas knew it.

            I’m in love with Mizore! Moka realized with a gasp.

            Mizore decided to avoid Moka for a few days. She had only just realized her love for the vampire, and she wanted to spend some time alone. She visited the lake where she and Tsukune skipped stones on their first date.

            Mizore smiled sadly to herself, wishing it was Moka who had been there, not Tsukune. Kurumu could have him for all she cared.

            The yuki-onna froze the water and stepped out onto it, much more at home on ice than on land. She sighed as she realized that the one thing she could control was Moka’s one weakness. Tears began to fall as Mizore began to feel worthless and completely undeserving of either Moka. She will never be anything more than a snow fairy to the mighty vampire. Never.

            Across campus, Tsukune sat on the roof of the school, relishing the rare alone time he got from his harem. He had never quite appreciated all of them; he knew that, just as much as he knew that both Mizore and Moka had been absent from the group of girls frolicking around him, and that bothered him to no end. Tsukune sometimes wondered what his male friends back home would say if they could see the situation he was in, and each time he thought they would be insanely jealous.

            Not every guy has a group of beautiful girls constantly vying for his attention.

            And now two of them were missing. Well, three, depending on how you look at it, Tsukune corrected himself silently.

            “Tsukune!” called an all-too-familiar voice. He glanced up to see Kurumu bounding towards him, alone. He stood and smiled at her. Tsukune was always happy to see any of the girls in his harem, though he didn’t quite appreciate the things they did to him. Kurumu grabbed his head and shoved it into her chest, squealing happily. “Oh, Tsukune, you won’t believe it! Mizore told me that she’s given up on you and that she’s moving on! And Moka hasn’t been around much recently, has she? That means you’re all mine! Yahoo!”

            Tsukune pried her off him and stood, looking at her seriously. “What? They’ve given up on me?”

            “Well, the snow skank has. I don’t know about the vampire, but it would seem so!” Tsukune frowned. He had thought their devotion to be much stronger than that, but if they wanted to move on that was fine. It certainly made his choice much easier.

            Just outside the girl’s dorms stood a redheaded vampire, holding a mysterious package. Kokoa laughed to herself and opened the doors. This time I’ll finally get my big sis back!

            Moka sat in the huge bathtub, meant to fit all the girls if need be. She inhaled the scent of herbs needed to de-purify the water for her and smiled, eyes closed. She would relax in the bath and then go find Mizore. Moka was just beginning to really enjoy the sensation of the water against her smooth skin when the door burst open suddenly, causing her to jump and spin around to see who it was.

            “Kokoa?”

            “I finally have it, Moka! The one thing that will get my big sis back!” The smaller girl unwrapped the parcel she had been clutching tightly, letting the paper fall to reveal a mirror. Kokoa approached Moka and shoved it in her face; the instant Moka looked in it there was a bright explosion of light. Moka instinctively shielded her eyes and when the light faded, she saw her other self staring at her in blatant shock.

            “That’s Lilith’s Mirror!” Inner Moka said, angry. She stepped out of the bath in all her naked glory, intent on murdering her little sister, but instead Kokoa flung herself onto Inner Moka, hugging her enthusiastically. “Big sister! Big sister! I knew this would work, I just knew it!” Inner Moka pried her off and held her at arm’s length. Kokoa tried to squirm closer but was kicked away by her white-haired sibling.

            During the fight that followed the separation of both Moka’s, Lilith’s Mirror was cracked completely in two, ensuring that both personalities would be out until the Chairman could think up a solution to the problem.

           

            In their room that night, Outer Moka looked at Inner and smiled softly. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to see you.” She looks like Father, she thought.

            She looks like Mother, Inner Moka thought.

            “Now that we’re separated, for the time being, I believe we have a problem that needs to be discussed.” Inner Moka said primly, reclining elegantly on their desk chair. Outer Moka perched on the edge of the bed and stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to go on.

            “Mizore,” Moka said simply.

            “Ura…I don’t know what to do about her.” Outer Moka said, using her nickname for Inner Moka.

            “Well, we need to think of something, Omote,” Inner Moka used her nickname as well, smirking.

            “Why don’t we ask her to choose?”

            Mizore sighed, sinking heavily to her knees on the ice. I’ll never be seen as her equal, she thought. I will never be anything important to the Mighty Vampire Moka.

            She heard a noise behind her that sounded like footsteps on her ice. Mizore spun and saw Moka walking to her…Inner, and Outer. She froze, her mouth opening and closing.

            “Moka?” Mizore ran over to Inner Moka, standing in front of her uneasily. “Moka, what’s going on?”

           

            Inner Moka smiled, a secret smile just for herself. When Mizore was confused she ran over to me. Me. The vampire snuck a glance at her other half; judging by her expression, she hadn’t missed this turn of events.

            “Mizore.” Ura put her hands on the yuki-onna’s shoulders in an attempt to calm her down. “Mizore, it’s alright. Kokoa somehow got Omote to look into Lilith’s Mirror, and, well, here we are.”

            “Lilith’s Mirror?” Mizore’s ice blue eyes looked from Ura to Omote. She lifted a hand to toy anxiously with the lollipop in her mouth. “What does that mean? Will you guys stay separated forever?”

            “Probably not forever,” Omote assured Mizore. Ura frowned at her.

            “Though that would be an interesting turn of events, wouldn’t it?” Ura asked, not really a question that required an answer. Mizore stared at Ura, and then at Omote, and in shock she fell to the ground, unconscious. Ura managed to catch her before she hit.

            Mizore couldn’t decide if she liked waking up in Moka’s room or not. This time, at least, she was fully clothed. She went to sit up only to realize that she was already sitting. Her eyes snapped open when she realized that she was tied to a chair.

            “Ah, so the snow woman awakens,” Inner Moka said. Mizore would have recognized that voice anywhere. She looked over to see Ura leaning against the closed door, arms crossed, a seductive smile playing across her lips. Mizore involuntarily crossed and un-crossed her legs, and Ura’s smile grew. Mizore knew she hadn’t missed a thing.

            A cough sounded from the other side of the room. Mizore glanced over to see Omote sulking on the edge of the bed. She brightened when Mizore acknowledged her with a small smile.

            “Why am I tied up?” She asked, glancing from one Moka to the other.

            “I didn’t want you to leave like you did last time,” Inner Moka said, and then her smile changed into something that wasn’t seductive so much as possessive—it seemed to scream Mine! and Mizore couldn’t contain the little gasp that escaped her. She knew, later, that she had wanted to react. She wanted to gasp. In that moment, all she could give Moka was her reactions, and that was the best she could do.

            Inner Moka had never been more confident. She had never had a reason to be shy, or insecure. She supposed that she should have been rather shaken up; who would choose a girl with her personality when they could have a girl with Omote’s personality? Thank goodness she was a vampire and would never lose her looks. Despite all her badassery, Inner Moka was actually incredibly intelligent.

            Right now, though, she was incredibly turned on. Mizore sat on their desk chair, tied up to it. The rope—it wasn’t really a rope, but several sashes from several robes tied together—was just tight enough to outline her great body. Ura refrained herself from licking her lips in anticipation of the coming feast. If Omote hadn’t been there, she would already be ravaging the snow woman.

            Her red eyes cut across the room to the other girl. She didn’t want to share Mizore with her. She didn’t want to share her with anyone at all. She knew that she was being slightly silly; this was her other half, after all, but she resented her nonetheless. Call her old-fashioned, but the mere thought of seeing Omote touch Mizore—her Mizore—had her burning up inside. Ura fisted her hands at her side and fought the nearly overwhelming urge to kick Omote into next Tuesday.

            She was determined to make Mizore hers.

            The room had gotten cold suddenly. Mizore knew from the way Outer Moka’s eyes widened that she, too, felt the chill. Inner Moka, though, didn’t react at all. She instead moved towards Mizore, adding just enough swing to her hips to keep Mizore’s ice blue eyes glued to them. Inner Moka seemed to know it.

            Omote, as Mizore had heard Inner Moka call her, watched from the bed, fingering her rosario. Her green eyes were narrowed angrily, as if she, too, was in love with Mizore, who couldn’t fathom why either girl would love her of all people.

            Inner Moka finally reached Mizore. She reached out a hand, cutting loose the ropes that bound the snow woman with one quick motion. Mizore didn’t move. The vampire seemed pleased with this turn of events; she crawled onto Mizore’s lap and ran her fingers through her purple hair.

            “You know,” she purred, “We just might end up staying separated like this. If we do…” she paused to lean in and rake her lips down Mizore’s forehead. “If we do, you will need to choose one of us.”

            “No!” Outer Moka stood suddenly and shouted. “No, this isn’t fair! You’re seducing her! Of course she’ll choose you, if…if you can do that!”

            “Are you saying you can’t?”

            With that, Omote ran out the room, slamming the door behind her. It seemed to Mizore that perhaps the truth of Inner Moka’s statement had hit a nerve, one that Omote herself had been toying with all along.

            Moka turned back to Mizore.

            “Which one of us will you choose? You must choose one,” She said. Mizore was finding it extremely difficult to speak when Moka was talking in that sultry voice in her ear. She opened her mouth, then closed it. She couldn’t find the right words.

            Mizore had known all along that the one she wanted was Inner Moka. She had known, in her heart, the first moment she saw her. She had been slightly traumatized then from all that had happened previously, but Inner Moka had shone like a bright light on a cold winter evening. Inner Moka herself was cold, but that was alright because Mizore, too, was cold. Frozen. Despite that, she found herself warming up, almost to the point of it being uncomfortable.

            “Just say yes. You just have to choose me.”

            Mizore opened her mouth once again, and for the first time since Inner Moka had straddled her, she managed to find her voice.

            “Yes.”

            The seductive vampire smiled at her. “Somehow I knew you would say that.” She scratched her fingernail lightly down the side of Mizore’s neck, who shuddered at the sensation.

            That night, Inner Moka showed her all the reasons she was glad that Mizore had chosen her and not Omote.

            The Chairman stood at his window and stroked his chin thoughtfully. There was a knock on the door behind him, and he turned to see the separated vampires standing before him, one shuffling nervously, and the other ice cold. He smiled.

            “Ah, the vampires have arrived. Now, I do have a solution to your little problem. A few, in fact, so you may choose one after you hear me out.” They nodded. “I can have Ruby perform a spell which will restore each of you to your previous strength, but you will remain separated, and you,” he gestured with his chin toward Omote, “will not transform into her when your rosary is taken off. You, however, have no need of one,” he gestured to the other Moka. “There is another, more dangerous and painful method which will put both of you back the way you were. But you will need to choose one now, because if you remain like this, without either spell having been performed, you will die. Both of you.”

            Omote twisted her hands nervously. “I—I want to stay like this! I don’t want her inside me again. I want to stay me.”

            “I, too, wish to remain myself,” Ura said, her voice monotonous as usual.

            “Then we shall begin,” the Chairman said with a wicked smile.

            The spell was completed early the next day. The Chairman hadn’t said a thing about where they would be staying, so Ura collected her things from Omote’s room and made her way to Mizore. She knew that the other girl would be sleeping, and so she opened the door of her own accord. Inside wasn’t what she expected; she had expected it to be dull and unfeminine, but it was just the opposite.

            Crystal snowflakes hung from the ceiling on silk strings. The walls were ice blue, with gorgeous snowflakes painted here and there for effect. The window was left open, though the air outside was warm to the snow woman. Mizore lay on her bed, wearing her socks, panties and tank top. Moka smiled and set her things down by the door, stripping to her own blood red underwear and joining Mizore in bed. She was just warm enough to wake up the girl.

            “Moka?” she asked sleepily.

            “Yes, my love. It’s me. Go back to sleep.”

            “Are you going to stay with me?” Moka knew that she didn’t mean for the night, or for the rest of the school year. She knew Mizore wanted to know if she and Omote were forever separated. She whispered yes into the night air and pulled Mizore into her arms. Inner Moka was planning on spending several lifetimes with this girl; she imagined ice cold winters spent with her. She imagined cuddling in the bath and sleeping together at night. She imagined Mizore laughing so hard her lollipop fell out. Moka imagined their life together, and she couldn’t see any other way to live. It was in that moment that the vampire truly fell in love with Mizore, and she was glad that it wasn’t with anyone else.

“Yes.”

FIN~

Batman Fanfiction-Bane and Krista Part Two

(Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY of the characters in this story aside from Krista, and perhaps the men whose names we did not learn. Bane belongs to whomever owns Batman ((I believe it is DC?)) and all rights go to their respective owners. I do not make any money from this; it is for entertainment purposes only.)

The city was finally finished. There were still some minor repairs around the city that needed to be completed, but overall it was ready for people to begin living their new lives.

            Bane and I had worked on this city for three years. With the help of thousands of men, most of whom were the rest of my father’s guards, we finished it quickly. We had stores that sold anything, from books to clothes to food. We had luxurious homes and gyms and one large high school. Half the city was already filled with Bane’s friends and allies. We did not have very many women yet, and because of this Bane would not let me leave our home without him.

            Sometimes I consider leaving anyway, just to see how he would punish me, but I cannot bring myself to betray him. I know that going out unprotected would mean I would get hurt, especially in a city of criminals. That never stopped me from dreaming, though.

            Bane stood and wiped the sweat from his brow, watching the other men as they finished painting a house or carrying furniture into their home. Although they were in a desert, the streets were cobblestone and not meant for vehicles. They had trucks driving on it now while they finished the city, but once they were done the trucks would be gone.

            He sighed and stooped to dip his brush into the paint. Lately, it seemed he had been working every night, only to come home completely exhausted and fall asleep instantly. Bane would then get up early in the morning and repeat the process. He knew that Krista had been feeling lonely lately, even without reading her journal. They hadn’t been making love as often as they used to; that in itself was enough to make Bane feel like an ass. He was deprived. He needed to touch Krista, to feel like she needed him. He knew she needed him, yet he still hadn’t touched her in two weeks. Two weeks.

            The words circled through Bane’s mind like a sickening mantra. Krista affected him the same way he affected her, though he would never admit it. Bane was the type to make others need him, to make them beg for his touch. He wasn’t one to get on his knees and ask his wife for sex.

            The more time that passed, though, he found that that sounded pretty reasonable.

            Maybe the attraction was gone.

            The minute Bane thought those words, he wanted to hit something, preferably something hard that would make his knuckles bleed. Had he lost his touch? Maybe if he slept with another woman to see—no. Bane would never betray Krista like that.

            Bane was a hard man; he had seen many things in his lifetime, things that people normally see on gritty television shows, in horror movies, or in their nightmares. He was the person people would check their closets for. Despite that, Bane still had that scared child inside him, the little boy who lost his mother and was forced into the scariest situation you could put a child in. Krista was the only person who knew that, who saw right through him, yet still loved him, and here he was, considering sleeping with another woman. He knew she would never do that to him.

            I was trying to think of a way to seduce Bane. I’ve never seduced a man before—I never had to. With Bane, all I had to do was…well, exist. I’ve seen Talia do it enough that I was certain I could do it as well.

            All it took was a little ingenuity, some makeup, and a skimpy dress.

            I decided taking a shower would be an excellent way to prepare myself. I entered the large bathroom Bane and I share, with its stone tiles, walk-in steam shower, and Jacuzzi bathtub. I dropped my silk robe on the floor, turned the steam on and stepped into the shower.

            It felt amazing.

            Almost as amazing as Bane’s touch feels.

            “Krista?” Bane called as he entered the large room they shared. He heard water running and opened the door leading to their bathroom, only to see steam. Everywhere. He could only see a vague outline of Krista in the shower, and only recognized her because she was humming a familiar tune. Suddenly Bane got a very naughty idea…

            I didn’t know anyone was with me in the bathroom until he was right in front of me. I didn’t recognize him until he grabbed my upper arms. It was Bane.

            He pushed me gently so that I was pressed back against the wall of the shower. I could barely see him though the steam. Bane released my arms and instead places his hands on the wall beside my head, effectively trapping me.

            “Bane? What’s…are you okay?” He didn’t answer at first, only leaned in so that his nose almost bumped mine.

            “Krista…you know it’s been two weeks since we last made love, correct?” I nodded. “Today I was wondering why. Is it because we’re too busy, too tired? All those reasons sounded mundane and yet perfectly plausible. Finally I came to the conclusion that maybe…” he used his nose to trace the side of my face. “maybe you’re not attracted to me? Maybe you don’t need me like you once did.” The steam, combined with Bane’s words and stance, had me a little light-headed.

            “Uh…no, it’s not that, the first two reasons--” Bane silenced me with his mouth. I didn’t pull away or even attempt to finish my sentence. I knew I wouldn’t be able to if I tried.

            Bane pulled away slightly, pausing to stare into my eyes as if looking for an answer. I wondered if he could see how he was affecting me.

           

Krista wasn’t reacting the way she normally would. Bane knew that; any other time, she would have begged him to stop teasing her and get on with it already by now. This time, though, she was quiet and thoughtful, somehow managing to stay on her feet without any help from Bane. The steam should have made the situation that much more unbearable for her—she should be putty in his hands. But she’s not.

Bane was almost completely convinced by now that he just didn’t have the magic he once did, so long ago. He completely forgot that it was only two weeks, and not two years.

I wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction of making me melt so easily, no matter how much I wanted to. I didn’t know where I got the strength to stay standing, or to keep my expression thoughtful, but it was there, and it was strong. Bane was going to have to try much harder if he wanted me that much.

He knew this.

Bane gently cupped the side of my face, letting his hand drop to my neck, then even lower. I couldn’t keep a small gasp from leaving me when he touched my sensitive areas. There was a small flash of triumph in Bane’s eyes. I gritted my teeth, determined to win this one.

            He wedged his knee between my legs. Any other time, this would be my undoing—this would be the moment I broke and we stopped the game.

            I smiled suddenly, surprising Bane. Two can play at this game, I thought wickedly. I tilted my head and gave him my best alluring look, the one I had practiced in the mirror. His eyes narrowed and he leaned back.

           

            Krista figured it out. Damn, he should have known she would. Krista wasn’t dumb. She smiled at him, tilted her head and shot him a look that went straight to his groin. He leaned back, lest she feel it on her thigh.

            She extended a slender hand, letting it drop on his chest and slowly slither down, stopping just below his bellybutton. Bane swallowed a growl, glancing up to see Krista had a smirk on her beautiful face.

            I wasn’t sure if Bane could see how much self-control I was using at the moment, but I could definitely see what I was doing to him. I used my fingernail to trace small circles under his bellybutton, loving the way his eyes narrowed to the point of closing. When I removed my hand they opened again. I spread my legs wantonly and tapped my index finger on my smiling lips. “What’s the matter, Bane, is this too much for you?”

            Now Bane did growl. He grabbed my wrists and held them above my head, leaning in close.

            “Enough of the games, Krista. Just admit it—you want me.” When I didn’t answer he growled again. “You belong to me. You’re mine.” I merely smiled at him. His words affected me strongly—they were exactly the kind of thing I’d always wanted him to say, and now that he finally said them I couldn’t react the way I so desperately wanted to. I had to stay strong. I refused to lose.

            We didn’t kiss. We didn’t move. For the first time, we were two separate beings with opposing needs. I wanted to win; he wanted me to submit.

            After that I stepped away from both Bane and the wall, standing under the hot water. I turned my back to him and swept up my long white-blonde hair. I felt a single finger run down the length of my back, and almost couldn’t contain a shiver, despite the hot water.

            “You have goose bumps,” Bane noted from behind. “Are you cold?” I didn’t answer. Bane stepped up and wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on top of my head. I pulled away.

            “We’re wasting water…um, you should shower now, so I’ll go and get dressed…” I stepped out of the shower, surprising Bane so much that he let me go.

            Bane stood alone under the spray of water, letting it run down his face and into the drain. He wished it would wash the pain away as well, but it didn’t. Why was Krista doing this? He smashed his fist against the wall, a new spark in his eye.

            He wasn’t about to lose to Krista.

            I avoided Bane for the next week. It took all of my self-control to not melt into a puddle at his feet when he touched me; now that we were in a sort of seduction war, I couldn’t imagine the lengths he would go to in order to win. All his life, Bane has been fighting against something, and now it was me. For me.

            Why was I fighting?

            I sat in front of my mirror, brushing my hair. What was the point of this?

            That night, when Krista was asleep beside him, Bane opened her journal. He needed to know. Had to know.

           

            I haven’t made love in three weeks. Bane and I have done it enough to last us a lifetime, yet I still feel a dull ache in my chest when I think of our overwhelming lack of love, passion and intimacy. We’re playing a game now, and I never was one to play games. I hate them. Aside from chess, that is.

            We are trying to see who will break first. Will it be Bane? Or will it be me?

            He still affects me the same.

            I’m not sure what the point of this is anymore. Can we not admit our mutual desire? I’m not a telepath, yet I do sense that he needs me as much as I need him. Perhaps we need this break from the lovemaking.

            In the shower, Bane told me that we haven’t made love lately because the attraction was gone.

            I don’t believe that is why.

            We have been busy, and tired. While Bane has been working on construction, I have been working on buying furniture and finding people to come here. I haven’t been doing as much physical work as he has, but it is work nonetheless.

            Despite the overwhelming lack of time, I still yearn for his hand upon my skin again. If this is a contest, I am almost certain I will lose.

            But that doesn’t mean I can’t play just as hard.

            Bane closed the journal and glanced over at Krista. Asleep, her face was peaceful and innocent. She was innocent until he dragged her into a world of criminals and hate. Ra’s al Ghul was not a saint either, but he let her be. Bane couldn’t ever leave Krista—a day without seeing that face, that hair, without touching her…he wasn’t focused solely on her body, no. Krista was the most intelligent woman he’d met yet, even more so than Talia.

            With his beloved’s words still fresh in his mind, Bane fell into a restless sleep.

            When I woke up, Bane was gone. I had thought that since the construction was completed, he would be staying home, but he wasn’t. I was beginning to learn that I’m almost never right when it comes to these things.

            I yawned and threw the covers off, swinging my legs off the side of the bed. I hummed while I slipped on a short white dress, and boots. My hair was too fine to tangle, so I didn’t need to brush it.

            I didn’t know what to do with myself. Without Bane, there really wasn’t anything I wanted to do. Then I remembered a guard who told me the library was completely finished, yet didn’t have any books in it.

            I knew exactly what I was going to do.

            The library in our palace was furnished with hundreds of thousands of books—perhaps even millions. I’ve never counted them. Over the years, I’ve discovered that father had more than one copy of many books, most likely forgetting he already had a copy when he bought the second and third editions.

            It took most of the afternoon, but I finally found enough copies to fill up several bookshelves in the library. We still had a few guards around, the most loyal ones. I asked them to help me carry the books to the library, which really wasn’t far away.

            I froze the minute I stepped out of the castle.

            It looked like a city. Granted, the streets were cobblestone and not paved, but considering we live in a desert, this was most impressive. The large majority of the buildings were completed. I clutched the books in my arms tighter to me and began making my way to the library, the guards close behind.

            Every time I saw a man, they stopped what they were doing, dropped anything they were holding, and stared. I suppose not seeing a woman who had a wonderful lack of facial hair in three years had really taken its toll. Some of them even went so far as to approach me, but one look from the guards and they stepped away.

            These were supposed to be the toughest, scariest men on the planet.

            And I was the only female in sight.

            Perhaps it’s only fair that Bane had not been having sex with a woman, while these men had to suffer for three years. I remembered what he did in the shower and blushed, glancing down at my feet.

            After a few more awkward minutes of gawking criminals, we finally reached the library. The guards carried the books in and set them down on the floor beside one of the bookshelves.

            “Miss,” one of them began, “Do you need our help with arranging them?”

            “No,” I said, waving a hand and laughing gently. “I can do it. I can walk back on my own, as well. I’m a big girl.”

            With my track record of being wrong, I should have known better.

            Bane didn’t have any work to do. He left as early as he normally would, but all the work was left to each home’s respective tenant. Once everyone had each home ready to be lived in, they would bring in their wives, if they had any. He knew Krista was working on finding female criminals looking for a fresh start, but so far no luck.

            Suddenly a guard ran up to him, panting. “Bane, it’s Krista!” Bane immediately turned on the man, anger flashing dangerously in his eyes.

            “What happened?”

            “We were helping her carry books to the library and we left, and several other men we didn’t recognize went in and locked the door! Then we heard Krista screaming and we came to get you!”

            Bane started to run.

            FIVE MINUTES EARLIER

            I began arranging the books on the shelves first by genre, then by alphabetical order. Father hadn’t stocked modern romances, only classical books; poetry, old adventure stories, plays, things such as that. I had just finished a shelf when three unfamiliar men stepped in, one wielding a gun. They locked the door and faced me, evil smiles adorning their ugly faces.

            I dropped the book I was holding.

            “Looky here boys, looks like we got us the only woman here.”

            “Boss, isn’t she Bane’s woman?”

            “Does it matter?” the leader hissed. “Bane isn’t here. He’ll never know. We’ll take care of her real good, then make sure she never talks again.” His accent grated on my nerves.

            The boss stepped forward. “Just play nice, missy.” He grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me harshly against the shelves, causing the books to fall on me. I knew the guards might still be outside.

            I let loose an ear-shattering scream. The other two men winced, but the leader didn’t react similarly. “Shut up! Do you wanna get us caught or somethin’?” He slapped me and grabbed my throat, his other hand slinking down…

           

            PRESENT TIME

            Bane could only pray to a God he didn’t think existed that Krista was okay. He repeated the mantra in his head as if it was a lifeline he could extend to her. Please let her be okay. Please let her be okay. Please let her be okay.

            If he failed to protect her…Bane didn’t know what he would do. I’m the strongest man here, dammit! I can’t even keep my wife from being raped the third time?

            Finally he reached the library, kicking open the door. What he saw almost made him blind with rage.

            Krista, being held off the ground by her throat, being groped by a dirty man while two others kept watch.

            One of them had a gun.

            Bane lost all his self-control.

            I nearly melted with relief when Bane kicked in the door. He stood there for half a second, assessing the scene. His eyes almost popped out his head when he saw me. I swore I saw steam coming out of his ears like those dorky cartoons I used to love.

            He grabbed the man closest to him and snapped his neck, grabbing the gun he dropped to shoot the other man.

            Bane ran the final few feet to us. I was beginning to see red around the edges of my vision from lack of oxygen. He tore the man away from me and I fell to the floor, alternately gasping for breath and coughing. I knew I wouldn’t have had much longer if Bane hadn’t arrived so quickly.

            Bane had sworn to never kill again after the death of Ra’s al Ghul, despite the fact that that wasn’t his fault, but the thought of allowing a man who had touched Krista to live was enough to break even his resolve. He grabbed the man off of her, causing her to fall. He didn’t pay attention to that, not yet. She wasn’t choked long enough to be in any serious danger, though he regretted the fact that he hadn’t caught her.

            He slammed the man’s head to the ground, albeit only hard enough to cause pain. “She is mine,” He snarled in the man’s ear. “No one touches her but me. For that, you shall die.” Bane didn’t want this to be clean. No, he wanted it to be messy. He wanted this man to suffer.

            He shot his knee first, then his groin. The man immediately began screaming in agony. Bane restrained himself from laughing only for Krista’s sake. One more shot to the head, and it was done.

            Bane killed the man right in front of me. He didn’t give him a quick, painless death, though. He tortured him. I wasn’t sure how being shot in the groin would feel, but I imagined that, to a man, it’s the worst pain imaginable. That and perhaps a lack of sex.

            I touched my neck gently. It felt sore; I would have a bruise there tomorrow. I was grateful that Bane hadn’t seen how the man had hit me before he arrived—a slap to the face, a punch to the stomach. I ached all over and wanted nothing more than to soak in our bathtub with a good book.

            Strong arms lifted me from the floor bridal-style. I curled up against Bane’s familiar chest, going in and out of consciousness as he made the walk back to the palace.

            “Krista? Krista, wake up. I have soup here for you.” I opened my eyes and saw Bane. I sat up and rubbed at my eyes.

            “Oww…what happened?” Then I remembered. The men. The blood. The attempted rape. Bane coming to my rescue.

            I didn’t talk to anyone after that. For days, I stayed in my room, refusing to eat and refusing to talk. I had begun sleeping most of the day, waking up only to shower. I would spend most of my waking hours sitting on the window seat, watching everyone outside. Women had begun to come, some of them attractive, some of them not, but women nonetheless.

            All I could remember was the times I had been raped, the time father’s men had hurt me, the time I was almost raped.

            I wouldn’t let Bane touch me. I wouldn’t let myself touch him. I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror anymore.

            I began to hate myself.

            Weeks passed. I found that as more time goes by, I’m able to take more than a few small bites of food. Bane was always there, hovering around, making sure I was safe.

            I was sitting at the window when I realized it.

            I had to go back, to the library. I had to finish it.

            I had to prove to them that they didn’t have power over me.

            Knowing Bane, he wouldn’t let me go without him, but I was beginning to grow restless under his watchful gaze. I needed to do something on my own. I needed to overpower the demons holding me back.

           

            One morning I awoke to the sound of Bane taking a shower. I knew this would be my best chance to get out.

            I threw the covers off and dressed quickly, sliding a knife into my boot as an afterthought. While I didn’t know how to use it in the slightest, the knife itself would frighten a person into making a mistake, or hesitating. With one last glance at the bathroom door, I left the room.

            Outside looked exactly the same. Men bustled around while the few women watched and laughed. I knew they were making the men do all the work, but I didn’t say anything.

            As I walked down the street to the library, even the women watched me hungrily. I swallowed nervously and tried to keep my expression calm, focusing on peaceful emotions. I reached the library after what felt like eons.

            The inside hadn’t changed a bit. No one was worried about working on the library; they all wanted to finish their homes before there was another sandstorm. Looking off into the distance, I could see one was approaching. I glanced away and walked inside, closing the door behind me.

            Krista was gone. Bane knew that almost immediately; he walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, and saw she wasn’t there. She had been venturing out of the bedroom more and more lately, but only with him by her side. She jumped at every shadow, always keeping a tight hold on his arm. Not that he minded.

            But this time felt different. There was a subtle change in the air, a change that only occurred when she wasn’t in the palace. A change that felt like danger. Bane knew Krista better than anyone, and he knew she would try to go back to the library eventually. She wasn’t a weak person—once she was tired of hiding, she would go to face whatever it was that was holding her back. He knew this, and yet was still surprised she was gone.

            Bane stepped over to the window, looking outside as he changed in hopes of seeing her. All he saw was a sandstorm looming in the distance. His heart began to race. What if Krista was outside when it hit?

            He shook his head. No, Krista was smart. She would see it, and she wouldn’t stay outside. She would take refuge in the nearest shelter.

            That scared him more than anything.

            Bane’s senses must be rubbing off on me somehow, because I knew the man was there. I didn’t know where he was, and I didn’t know who he was. All I knew was that his aura was dark with hatred and greed, desire and rage.

            It was all I could do not to run outside.

            I knew that if I ran, he would follow me, and he would catch me. I had to stay here and ward him off myself, until Bane came. I knew Bane was coming—he was an intelligent man and would quickly figure out where I am.

            I ducked behind one of the many shelves, making sure I was quiet about it. Bane and I used to do this sometimes—we would hide in the library and try to find each other. This was before we fell in love; Bane thought it would be a good way to sharpen skills I barely had.

            I’ve never been more grateful for hours of hide-and-seek in my life.

            I pulled the knife out of my boot and held it awkwardly in front of me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to win in a fight against most people, but I could ward them off until Bane got here.

            In that moment, I felt angry. Angry that I was so fragile and angry that I had to rely on Bane to save me from all these perverts. You would think they would leave me alone, considering I was the one who so generously provided them with everything here. A home, food, water, books, education…I’ve provided them with luxuries they wouldn’t have in prison, and how do they repay me? They try to rape me!

            I jumped when he stepped out of the shadows in front of me.

            “What is little miss Krista doing out here all by herself?” I glared at him, though the effect seemed to be amusing rather than frightening. “Without Bane, no less. Looks like you’re defenseless…”

            He stepped forward. He was within my reach.

            “Wrong. I’m not defenseless.” He grabbed me arm and yanked me to him. Anger gave me strength, and I slid the knife forcefully in. A little part of my mind sensed it went in cleanly between the ribs. He fell. For several minutes, I stared at him, at the blood, at the lifeless man who was lifeless because of me. I just killed someone. I just killed someone. I just killed someone. Those words repeated themselves in my mind until I could think of nothing else, and I slowly sank to my knees, a shaky hand over my mouth. I dropped the knife.

           

            Somehow I managed to get to my feet and walk outside. I didn’t stop walking until I got to the palace, where I hesitated only to open the doors and lock them securely behind me. Restless, I began walking through the large, empty marble halls, never stopping. I couldn’t stop.

            I had just killed a man.

            I found an empty storage room and stepped inside, sneezing from all the dust. I left the light off and huddled in a corner. I began to weep.

            “Where the hell is she?” Bane exclaimed to a random man he stopped on the street.

            “Where the hell is who?” he replied in a Brooklyn accent.

            “Krista! You had to have seen her.”

            “Ah, that Krista. You know, I haven’t seen a woman like her in a long time, if you know what I mean.” The man winked and nudged Bane with his elbow. Bane grabbed a fistful of his shirt and lifted the man a few feet off the ground.

            “I’m not going to ask again. Have. You. Seen. Her?!” When the man didn’t immediately respond Bane began shaking him violently. “Tell me!”

            “I-I did see someone who looked like her--”

            Bane ceased his shaking. “Where?”

            “I think she was headed to the library--” He dropped the man and began to run. The sandstorm loomed even closer.

           

            She wasn’t there. Not at the library, not at the school, the city hall, not anywhere. He asked everyone he saw—they all said they saw a bloody woman running as if she was running from something. Bane was angry and didn’t listen to the voice of reason in his head telling him she was at the palace. He only returned when it was impossible that she was anywhere else.

            After an hour and a half of asking the staff, he still had no idea where the hell Krista was. Bane began walking aimlessly in frustration, exhausting all the possibilities in his mind.

            Suddenly he froze.

            Was that someone crying?

            Bane opened the door to his right, seeing nothing but black. He flicked on a light and saw Krista curled up into a little ball.

            “Krista?” he asked gently. She didn’t move. “Krista?”

            She lifted her head, giving him a view of the tears that flowed down her face. “I killed him, Bane.”

            To Bane, killing wasn’t something to cry over. Killing wasn’t something that takes weeks of surveillance and planning. Killing was something you do when it’s necessary, and sometimes when its not. Bane had been killing since he was a child—growing up in a prison leaves little time for a childhood.

            Even though he didn’t understand what Krista was going through, he still tried to see it from her point of view. He couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

            All he could do was pick her up and carry her back to their room.

            With Bane’s help, I managed to get over the death of that man. He was a criminal, he probably raped many children before he came here. That fact alone made me feel a little better, knowing that I hadn’t killed a man. I had gotten rid of a monster.

            Months passed quickly after that. We spent every day working on the city. Bane helped me in the library, and when that was full of books he helped me find a man to work as a librarian, to keep track of the books, who had what, and to get them back when they were overdue. He helped me finish the school, putting up posters and colorful banners and buying textbooks.

            He came with me to Gotham to find teachers and criminals with children who couldn’t go to a normal school. We found many, and took them off of Batman’s hands by bringing them with us. We had about forty teenagers and fifty children, and still more were coming in. With the help of every capable person in the city working on one building at a time, the city began to grow rapidly.

            It was no longer a small town, it was a large city. The population was growing each day, with more and more reformed men and women coming together in a place of harmony. Business men began to flock to the city like birds—they set up bookstores and clothing stores and large chain stores such as Walmart or Target.  We even had a mall built.

            Eventually we had just as many women as we did men, and no longer did they all stare at me when I dared to venture outside. They still looked, but not in a hungry way. There were other beautiful women to gaze at now, women who had the strength to defend themselves. Women who were murderers or falsely accused of something, women who killed people defending their home and their family.    

            Our city was a home for the brave, for the scared, for the strong and the weak. We built a prison, appointed police officers and judges. We adopted a government system closely resembling that of the USA, though we were not an official part of any country. We were a country of our own, a place where criminals could start over and be happy for once. Batman would always tell the criminals he met of this place, who would always come here once they got out of prison. Slowly, Gotham began to clear itself of the criminals. The mobs, with no one to follow their orders, moved to other places. There were still petty thieves and the like, but all the dangerous ones had come here. To our city.

            Bane and I began making love regularly again. I had desperately missed his touch, his love.

           

            The city is growing rapidly. I am grateful for that; finally I am a part of something bigger than myself, something not evil and disgusting, but something important and good. The economy is thriving—Bane and I no longer need to lend money to them. We haven’t had anyone pay us back yet, but that is only to be expected. They have paid us back in taxes, anyway.

            Last night Bane told me he loved me for the first time since my attempted rape. I remember it clearly.

            We had been lying on our shared bed, reading. I was reading a book one of my newfound female friends had suggested to me, and it was indeed a thriller. I began to grow paranoid as I read about apparitions and spirits haunting the living. When something thumped in the bathroom, probably just the shampoo falling again, I jumped so high I nearly fell off the bed, and Bane had to grab me.

            I wasn’t in any serious danger of falling, but he grabbed me nonetheless and did not let go immediately. I slowly turned to look at him, surprised at his expression. His eyes were dark, his gaze hungry and searching. I knew that look. I had seen it many times before. 

            He rolled me gently so that I was trapped underneath him, soft against hard, small underneath large. He trailed his fingers lightly down the side of my face as he often does, and I reacted the way that I always do. I wrapped my legs around his hips and smiled at him, enjoying bringing out the vixen in me, though I doubt my skills are anything compared to Talia’s. Perhaps the side of me I call a vixen is normal for most women, but being the shy person I am, this side of me is not one that comes out often, is one that I sometimes cannot bring out.

            I smiled up at him, desire curling my lips and darkening my eyes as well as his.

            “Well?” I asked. “What are you waiting for?”

            And so he began.

            Perhaps life is more than what we make it out to be. Death is not something to be feared; it is merely a painful truth.

            Life is just a beautiful lie.