PSA

I've been thinking about maybe writing some new fanfiction for you guys?? That first Mizore/Moka fanfiction has almost seven thousand views (!!!!) but I wrote it a few years ago so it's, well, it's shit. Should I rewrite it? Or maybe you guys could suggest some fandoms/pairings? :D

I'll rewrite that fanfiction and then take requests!!! :DD

Rosario+Vampire Fanfiction--MizorexMoka

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Okay. Uhm. I expected this story to go a little differently. I kind of hoped to make a series out of it, or at least several parts, and that might happen but—NO SPOILERS OKA

This is an AU. Inner Moka is out all the time (yes, she still has her rosary, it just increases her power when removed is all). Outer Moka does not exist. Tsukune isn’t in it. Well, I guess I mention him twice but that’s it.

This is Mizore x Moka again, and there is one lemon in it, but it’s not what you might expect for this story. ;A; I’m sorry about this, by the way. I’m playing with a new style of writing, so I’m sorry if it sucks. xP Oh—and there is some vampire mythology here, I’ve just taken some of what I’ve heard from other places and combined it all, so it’s not exactly canon. I’m sorry if they seem OOC.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rosario+Vampire or any of the characters located herein. I do not profit in any way from the making and sharing of this story. It is for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t sue me, I have no money. XD

The day is unusually warm. The leaves whisper softly in the wind, the birds singing greetings to all the monsters that passed. The sky is a clear, bright blue devoid of any clouds.

            Mizore Shirayuki hates it. She knows that this is because she’s a yuki-Onna, but to her it feels as if it is something more than that. Perhaps it’s because it’s her first day at the famed monster school, the first of its kind. She remembers how insistent her mother was in convincing her to attend and shudders once, tugging restlessly on her sleeves. Her mother has excellent aim with ice shards.

            She is beginning to convince herself that, warmth aside, the day isn’t really that bad when she hears something behind her and she turns, expecting to see people, but sees nothing, just a leaf falling back into place as a bat takes flight and disappears. She sighs once and turns back to continue her journey.

            The noise gets louder. Mizore is not one to shy away from potential danger and so she stops and faces the direction the sound seems to be coming from, transforming smoothly into her true form. Her long purple hair freezes, her hands covered by ice, giving her a sort of wintry claw extending from each arm. The ice sparkles prettily in the sunlight and she worries for a second that they may melt before the sound reaches its peak and with a rush a bicycle bursts out of the forest and collides with Mizore. A scream finds its way out of her chest as she tumbles backwards, rolling several times before finally coming to a halt on her back, glassy eyes staring at the sky.

            The girl riding the bike lay several feet away from her, just out of Mizore’s peripheral vision. She can smell her, though, vanilla with a hint of something else, something she can’t put her finger on. Mizore struggles to sit up and is rewarded with a sight of the girl sitting beside her, eyes narrowed angrily. Mizore’s first thought it that this girl is gorgeous, that her eyes—red as blood—were perhaps the most beautiful she had ever seen. Long white hair trails down her back, not dirtied at all from her awkward collision with the earth. The second thing Mizore notices?

            Her aura. It is powerful, perhaps even more so than the Priestess at her home village. She cannot tell what kind of monster this girl is and decides she doesn’t even want to know, she wants to get the hell out of there before she decides to kill her for being in the way, despite the fact that it wasn’t Mizore’s fault at all.

            The enigmatic girl is the first to speak and Mizore is frozen solid by her voice, sultry and seductive, rolling off her tongue like glistening honey. “You should have known to move out of the way,” she says, and her eyes narrow to cat-like slits. Mizore keeps her face blank and tries to hide the way her heart thuds in her chest, annoyingly painful.

            “I didn’t know you were coming from that direction, you could have shouted a warning to move.” Mizore’s words are unintentionally harsh, cold and clipped and exactly the tone a Snow Woman should have. She tries very hard to keep her emotions out of her voice, which is almost as monotonous as the other girl’s. Mizore allows herself to inspect her further and sees a rosary hanging off her chest. Is this meant to keep her monster power inside? She has heard of things like that but has never encountered a creature powerful enough to require one. Now her emotions show on her face and she begins, oddly enough, to sweat underneath her light clothing. Fear shows in her eyes as she looks at the girl, who laughs at her expression and stands. Mizore expects a kick or a throw of power that requires no physical movement but is instead given a hand to take, which she accepts, shaking despite herself. The girl pulls Mizore to her feet as if she weighs nothing.

            “I am Moka Akashiya, daughter of Issa Shuzen and S-Class vampire.” Her tone is cold and Mizore hesitates only a moment before responding.

            “I’m Mizore Shirayuki. I’m a yuki-Onna.” She fails in her attempt to hide her surprise and fear when she learns that Moka is a vampire. They are the most powerful of monsters, something no one wants to piss off, ever, lest they have a death wish. Mizore prays that she hasn’t pissed this particular vampire off and shuffles her feet nervously. The rosary makes sense now.

            If she didn’t wear it, Moka’s powerful energy would engulf everything and everyone, letting all who could sense it know that she is a vampire. There would be foolish monsters who would attempt to challenge her, knowing that to beat a vampire is to gain a status so high that no one would ever challenge said beast again. It is a status no one has yet achieved.

            “A yuki-Onna? Interesting. I have heard of your people. You are one of the stronger monsters, though—“ here Moka smirks, regarding Mizore with a look she can’t decode “—you are still not strong enough to beat me in a fight.” Mizore notices, for the first time, the bags under Moka’s eyes, the abnormal thinness of her body.

            Disregarding any fear for her safety, she blurts out, “Have you fed recently? You look ill.” The vampire’s eyes widen in surprise that a yuki-Onna, of all things, would see through her façade and recognize her starvation.

            Even so, she tilts her chin up regally and fixes Mizore with eyes that are clear of self-pity. “No. I have not fed recently. Do not tell me, Snow Woman, that you have already come to worry about my health?” The question is asked in mocking tones. Mizore stands her ground, hands fisting at her sides.

            “I caused you to fall off your bike, but you haven’t attempted to punish me yet. That means that I owe you something in return, right?” Mizore tilts her head to the side and sweeps her hair over her shoulder, exposing a snow-white and creamy neck. “Take my blood,” she says simply. She knows that she won’t taste as good as a human, but she will taste sweet. Her blood will almost feel cold to the vampire, but it will be a good kind of cold. Mizore has been filled with this ice her entire life.

            She begins, though, to feel a little bit of that ice melt inside as Moka takes a confident step forward and locks eyes with Mizore, her red eyes narrowed for reasons other than anger. She lets a finger trace down her neck, scratching Mizore lightly with a sharp fingernail. Mizore lets out a silent, shuddering gasp and Moka pulls her closer, enveloping the smaller girl in her arms as she lowers her head and sinks her teeth into the soft skin of Mizore’s neck.

            The sting lasts only a moment, and Mizore discovers that the legends are wrong, that the victims of vampire attacks are misguided and dumb, because what she feels is far from pain or fear. She recalls a line she read once in a book about vampires, a book that was forbidden to her and one she read anyway.

            Anyone who willingly gives themselves to a vampire receives nothing but pleasure in return, as the vampire need not use any mind control or seduction to gain what he desires. This is what it means for a vampire to feed.

            She couldn’t quite remember all of it but the gist of it was that a person who let a vampire drink their blood felt pleasure, not pain. Mizore was finding that this was very true as the gorgeous vampire greedily drank her lifeblood.

            It was appalling for a monster to give herself to another monster like this, to let herself be taken as dinner and nothing else. Monster morals were incredibly loose, yes, but to allow oneself to be dinner? It was something only the desperate did, in return for something they needed. It was the ultimate sin, the worst possible act one could commit.

            In that moment, though, Mizore didn’t give a shit, to put it bluntly. Moka’s lips were soft on her neck, her hands tightly clutching the fabric that had bunched up around Mizore’s waist, her legs flush up against Mizore’s. They both wore short skirts, and Mizore could feel the soft, flawless skin of the vampire’s against her. She let her eyes flutter shut, let a soft moan escape her lips—to hell with it, might as well be as wanton as possible—and reaches up to twine an arm delicately around Moka’s neck, pulling her head down, wanting to feel more. More of Moka. More of this.

            Nothing could prepare her for what happened next, though. Moka pulls back from Mizore and straightens, flicking her pink tongue out to lick up the blood that stained her lips. She smirks, perhaps knowing exactly what Mizore wants. She leans forward and catches Mizore’s lips in her mouth.

            Mizore is shaken. Shocked. She trembles in Moka’s arms and wills herself to regain composure. Kissing is not a new act to her, but the way Moka’s mouth moves against her convinces her otherwise. All this time, had she been doing it wrong? No one had ever made her feel the sensations the seductive vampire elicited.

            Mizore is stricken with the sudden realization that what she was doing was wrong, that the only thing almost as bad as letting someone feed from you is letting said person take you in a different way, and though she feels a flutter in her stomach at the thought of Moka taking her—of Moka even wanting to take her—she pulls away, looking at Moka incredulously. “W-what was that for?” she asks, but she let it happen and they both know it. Mizore glances away, remembers for the first time that she is going to be late for school if she doesn’t hurry. She moves as if to run away but a strong hand grips her wrist.

            “Mizore.” That one, single word is enough to halt Mizore in her tracks, to make her eyes widen and her breath hitch. Actually, anything spoken in that sultry voice is enough to make her react like that. Hell, telling Mizore her grocery list would get a similar reaction.

            Mizore shakes her head, annoyed at those thoughts, and doesn’t say a word, waiting for Moka to say what she wants and let go of her so she can run and pretend this disgrace never happened. Her mother’s teaching is still fresh in her mind, and Mizore needs to stop, needs to put her walls back up, needs to show Moka that she isn’t weak, that she can’t be taken so easily, that allowing her to drink her blood like that was just a slip-up, just momentary insanity. Mizore can’t, though, and so she remains still, waiting for Moka. Always waiting for Moka.

            “Don’t go. Let’s walk together. You don’t know what dangers are out there, it’s not safe to be by yourself.” Mizore tugs out of Moka’s grip and whirls around, her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

            “No! I’m—I’m strong, I don’t need a vampire to protect me! Why would anyone attack me, anyway? I’m nothing. I’m nothing special, nothing to be desired…no one would want to take me. You only drank my blood because I offered, because a willing victim—“ the word ‘victim’ is thrown out at Moka, lashed out like a whip, intended to cut her and wound her, but her red eyes show no sign of pain or remorse “—is better than an unconscious one, and we both know that! I just met you, stop pretending we’re friends or that I mean something to you, because I don’t.” Here she stops and begins to turn away but something makes her hesitate, makes her say three final words before running off, alone, into the forest. “I’m just dinner.”

            Mizore doesn’t see Moka again that day. She thinks she catches a glimpse of white hair in the crowd but there are too many boys around, sweaty creatures all vying for a glimpse at the hottest girl in school. She looked up and sighed. “Welcome to Yokai Academy, Mizore,” she whispers, and a girl beside her looks at her curiously and asked if she said something. Mizore ignores the girl and walks away, searching for solitude, but finds herself thinking of cat-like red eyes.

           

           

            Orientation is soon over, but Mizore lingers in the room as the other new students file out, laughing. She frowns at a large group of girls standing just outside the open double doors. The breeze plays at their skirts, the boys nearly fall over their feet trying to get a glimpse of what may lie beneath, and Mizore heaves a disgusted sigh.

            Despite being new, she already knows the name of the most popular girl in school (and from what else she heard, the most bitchy as well). Kurumu Kurono. Medium-height, blue hair pulled back in what may or may not be a short ponytail, a yellow sweater vest to reign in the huge tits that escaped the torment of a bra, and the skirt that every single female wore. On her, though, it seemed exceptionally short, as if she had gotten a few sizes too small. Mizore wouldn’t put it past her.

            She stood with other girls, beautiful but not beautiful enough to outshine her. After just a few moments of watching her, Mizore already knew the girl was a succubus. One particular boy—Tsukune Aono, evidently—couldn’t escape her seductions, no matter how much he obviously wanted to. His eyes kept gluing themselves to an upperclassman who Mizore only knew by first name. Ginei. She sighs again and pushes off the wall, nearly bumping into a large and particularly sweaty boy.

            “Hey, slut, watch where you’re going!”

            “Why don’t you lose some weight and stop getting in the way, then?” Mizore blurts, not being one to just ignore some pig calling her a slut. His face flushes.

            “What did you just call me?” He asks, voice low as he approaches her. Mizore smiles dully as she thinks that he isn’t approaching so much as waddling, and it was that smile that did her in. “That’s it, I ain’t gonna let a freshman whore like you treat me like that!” He grows to nearly five times his size, swells to a ton and his skin turns pink. His face sports only a single eye and a bubble of laughter escapes Mizore before she can stop it. Incredibly, he flushes even more and lifts a foot in an attempt to squash her. She doesn’t move, just freezes a dome of sharp ice around her, which he foolishly steps on. Mizore grins as he shrieks and clutches his foot, hopping to keep his balance. Two of his friends join him, transforming to similar sizes. She doesn’t know what monsters they are and, quite frankly, doesn’t care.

            The first inkling of fear finally trickles into her stomach as more boys join them. She may be more powerful than any A-Class monsters, but still, the sheer number of monsters against her would be intimidating to the most powerful of monsters.

            Except, apparently, to Moka Akashiya, who suddenly appears in front of Mizore. She stands tall and proud, hands on her hips. Mizore doesn’t need to see her to know she’s smirking.

            “Who the hell are you?” screeches the original monster who tried to kill Mizore. “Get out of the way, you’re not involved in this!”

            “Oh, I’m not, am I?” Moka lifts a hand almost lazily and with a single click! she removes her rosary, tossing it aside. There is no transformation, no physical proof that she had transformed at all, but there is a burst of monster energy that surprises everyone.

            “Hey…who the hell are you?” he asks, tone now stained with fear. He is reminded of all the monster friends he has backing him up and, determined, shifts into a fighting stance. “Bring it on, slut!”

“Mizore is mine.” The words are clipped and brief. The monsters pause. “To mess with her is to mess with me. So—“ she glances up and skewers the monsters with a glare “—know your place.” Moka delivers a kick to the closest monster and sends him flying off. The other monsters hesitate only a moment before rushing her all at once. Moka places her hands on her hips and waits for them.

            Needless to say, Moka emerges the victor and Mizore her prize.

             “Why did you say I was yours?” Mizore asks afterwards, as they walk to the dorms together. Night has finally fallen and a chill has taken to the air. Mizore sighs inaudibly in relief; the heat had been nearly unbearable.

            “Because you are,” Moka says simply. “I took your blood. It was delicious. I want more.” She stops walking as they reach the building and lifts Mizore’s chin with a finger. She leans forward and speaks, her cool breath washing deliciously over Mizore. “It is time you accept it. You are mine.” Mizore cannot hide the shiver that chases down her spine at that, and Moka smirks, obviously recognizing it in Mizore’s eyes. She presses her lips against Mizore’s, tongue ghosting over her lower lip, her hand slinking down to cup Mizore’s neck softly, gently, almost reverently. Mizore trembles and offers her lips to Moka, who accepts them greedily.

            Neither of them know who it is that breaks the kiss for air, but both of them are breathing heavily. “I’ll walk you to class tomorrow,” Moka says, teasing Mizore’s lips with her fingernail before smirking and walking away, adding just enough shake to her hips to keep Mizore’s eyes glued to them.

            Mizore does not move for a very long time.

The morning sun greets Mizore with bright sunlight. She curses the fact that she forgot to close her curtains last night, having noticed that Moka’s room is directly across from her and she could easily see the vampire in her room. Mizore hadn’t realized, however, that if she could see Moka then Moka could see her.

Mizore groans and kicks off her sheets, skin crawling with the heat. “Ugh, why couldn’t Mother have waited until the dead of winter to send me here?” She rests her arm over her eyes in an attempt to block out the light and her eyes flutter shut with a sigh.

Abruptly she is reminded that she will be seeing Moka soon, and that thought is enough to propel Mizore out of bed. She slides her trademark thigh-high purple socks over her legs and is in the middle of pulling her shirt on when she pauses. Why is she so excited to see Moka?

No, Mizore thinks obstinately as she continues getting dressed. I am not hers. I don’t want to be hers. I won’t let her take me. What would Mother say? Despite her seemingly solid resolution, Mizore is shaken. She doesn’t know what to think of the Mighty Vampire Moka. She shook her head numbly, not stopping the action until she was sufficiently dizzy. Moka had known her for less than a day, why would she want her so much?

Mizore remembers more from the vampire book she had read years ago, and she shudders at the memory.

Vampires—especially incredibly strong vampires (which are known as S-Class) form a special bond with the first live person they drink from, be it human or monster. This bond enables the vampire to sense things from the bitee, enabling the vampire to properly protect them, as other vampires and monsters often seek to possess something. No one knows why this special bond, called an Imprint, makes the human or monster more alluring and charismatic. The bond also makes it difficult for the human or monster to resist the vampire. Once it has been formed, it can only be broken by another vampire possessing the bitee.

So…that was it. Mizore had been Imprinted? She shakes her head at this and stands, the sudden action eliciting yet another round of dizziness. She grips the dresser that sits beside her bed and can’t help but glance over at Moka’s room. It is conspicuously empty.

Mizore secretly likes the way her heart flutters at that. If her room was empty…then that means Moka is waiting for Mizore. She can’t stop the smile that stretches across her face, almost as bright as the blinding sunlight.

Mizore finds Moka waiting for her in the doorway leading out of the building, standing in the slight shade it offers. She blushes as Moka smirks and leans down to kiss her hello. “Good morning, Mizore. Did you sleep well last night?” For a moment Mizore can’t speak, because she had slept unexpectedly well (she hadn’t thought she would sleep, knowing how close Moka was). The problem? Her dreams had been littered with a familiar set of eyes and flowing white hair. The cause of her restlessness stood before her, a familiar smirk adorning her features.

“Uh, yes,” Mizore finally stammers, her blush deepening. “I slept…fine.” She remembers what the book had said about vampires sensing things from the person they had Imprinted with, and hopes desperately that it is wrong, that they aren’t Imprinted. She jumps in surprise when Moka takes her hand and begins walking with her toward the school.

The touch is electric. It is so small, so innocent, and yet the feel of Moka spreads over her skin like fire. Mizore has to refrain herself from squeezing her hand. She glances to their right, at the dark forest, and shivers. Moka looks down at her.

“Something is wrong.” It isn’t a question. Mizore can’t meet her questioning gaze. “Do you wish to speak with me about it?” This time, her tone is soft and gently and Mizore finds that she doesn’t want to worry about it by herself anymore.

“When I was a kid I read a book about vampires,” she begins. “It was forbidden to me, but I ignored that and read it anyway. I remember things from it.” She pauses and looks up at Moka, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “Have we Imprinted?” she asks, her voice small and tiny. For all the toughness Mizore likes to exude, in that moment she wants nothing more than to feel the hug of a mother around her. Her mother, though, isn’t particularly the loving type, especially not in cases like this. Mizore is expected to meet a boy and marry him and then give her village as many babies as possible.

After meeting Moka, she knows that isn’t possible anymore.

Moka hesitates before answering.

“Yes. We have Imprinted.” She does not say what Mizore already knows, that monsters powerful enough to smell the Imprint on her will want to steal her away from her vampire, will want to take her away from Moka merely for the sake of fighting the mighty vampire and winning. Mizore swallows nervously.

“Don’t worry, Mizore. I’ll protect you.” Moka squeezes Mizore’s hand soothingly and just like that, she isn’t worried anymore. No one can beat Moka. No one will ever beat Moka.

But what if someone could?

Three weeks later and Mizore was beginning to realize how exhausting it was to be tied to a vampire. She was being fed from at least once a day, and though the feedings were pleasurable she was beginning to feel tired from the events, beginning to actually feel the blood loss. She knows that if she says something Moka will refrain from feeding for a few days, but she doesn’t want to. Moka needs all the strength she can get.

At least, that’s what Mizore says to comfort herself. Truthfully, she likes it when Moka feeds from her. And, well, saying Moka needs to be strong in order to justify herself wasn’t that bad, right? Especially considering it was Moka’s fault that she was even in this mess in the first place.

Her current mess happened to be taking place near the strange red sea. She throws a glance at the odd water and sighs softly. If only Mizore could be as strong as her mother, then she would freeze all the water and use the ice to kill the people who took her.

She is kidnapped. Stolen. Taken away from Moka. She is not afraid.

Mizore Shirayuki is annoyed and very, very pissed.

“Just let me go, asshole. I have a term paper to finish and a Lit test to study for, so just let me go. You can fight Moka some other time.” She directs her demands to the guy in charge. He is a student in her class and one that hasn’t spoken to her much, only to ask her out on several occasions. The book was right. Being Imprinted makes her that much more alluring.

Unfortunately.

She heaves a sigh and glances at the forest. She expects Moka to appear soon but she doesn’t, oddly enough. The minutes tick by and soon Mizore grows worried, and afraid. She sighs once more and takes matters into her own hands.

She freezes the ropes that bind her, and they break easily. The boy has one second to shout a warning before she freezes him solid and begins freezing her way out of the crowd of people who were involved in this particular kidnapping.

Mizore is unprepared. She does not know who awaits her on the opposite end of frozen boys.

It is a fire monster.

He laughs at her confusion as he traps her in a ring of fire. “What, yuki-Onna? Are you afraid?” His laugh turns menacing and the ring shrinks enough to cause Mizore to fall to her knees. She needed cold. She needed ice.

What’s more, if the fire touched her, she would die.

They both know that.

“Where is your precious vampire? Can’t she take care of her own monster?” He throws his head back and roars, making the trees around them shake. “Come and get me, mighty Vampire! Before I take what is rightfully mine.” The fire disappears and he slinks closer to Mizore.

“We are opposites, you and me. Yin and Yang. Today, I will take my other half, and I will break the bond between you and Moka.” Mizore rolls her eyes and scans the surrounding forest once more. Still, Moka is absent. Where is she? Her gaze shoots back to the monster when fire whizzes past her head.

“What the hell are you doing?” She shrieks as she skids out of the way. “That could have killed me! How are you going to claim me if I’m dead?” Mizore begins to form something of a plan in her head and she has to refrain from smirking. Moka is not here, but that’s fine, because Mizore is here, and she knows how to take care of herself. She ignores the blatant proof of the opposite—that in reality she was vulnerable if she could even get kidnapped in the first place—and smiles at the fire monster.

This makes him pause. A smile? Where did that come from? She is supposed to be screaming and fighting, but now she is…flirting? Mizore twirls a piece of purple hair around her fingers and shoots him another smile. She tells him he is hot, making a joke about his fire abilities, and he laughs, surprising them both. He introduces himself.

“I am Kyo. Thank you for surrendering.” Mizore smirks and steps forward, placing her hands on his chest, though the action sickens her. She runs them up and down the smooth, muscled planes of his chest and lets a soft breath escape her lips.

“I am not surrendering. I can’t surrender if I wanted you to do this the whole time.” Shocked, he catches her wrists in his hands and stares at her.

“What did you just say?” Mizore sees a bit of disappointment in his eyes—he merely wants to fight Moka—but then that disappointment is replaced with something else, a hunger she doesn’t want to look too much at.

“I said…” she pulls her wrists from his grasp and puts them on either side of his face. “I said you’re dead,” Mizore says, and freezes him solid. She knows this will kill him.

She doesn’t particularly care.

The other monsters have already melted halfway, and Mizore flees the scene before anyone else decides they want to mess with her. The only thought in her mind as she runs is Moka. Where was the vampire? Is she okay? Images of Moka—tied up and being beaten—taking someone else—loving someone other than Mizore—leaving her and never returning—bruised and battered and beaten—dead—run through her mind, only adding to her speed.

She knows Moka’s weakness is water. She also knows that, in her true form (which wasn’t really a true form so much as an increase in power) Moka is not as hurt by water, but even so two bottles of water are enough to weaken her considerably. Had someone discovered their secret? Is someone trying to steal her?

Mizore goes to Moka’s room first, to see if there is any evidence.

And, oh, there is more than evidence.

Moka is there.

Moka is alive.

Moka is with someone else.

It is that annoying Kurumu girl, the succubus. Mizore wonders briefly if perhaps Moka succumbed to her powers and is now a slave, but that is not possible. Moka is simply too powerful for that, and Kurumu is not powerful at all compared to her.

Mizore freezes after having flung open the door. It hits the wall with a loud thump and both girls freeze. “Moka?” Mizore asks. The word is broken, is bent and twisted around to mean something else entirely. She is really asking ‘did you ever love me?’

The girls are naked. They are on top of the sheets and Mizore can see exactly what they are doing. She wishes that this hadn’t happened, that she had walked by instead, but she knows that this is better than finding out later. Annoyingly enough, tears well up in her eyes.

Moka is the first one to stand. “Mizore,” she says, her voice not cold but not exactly warm, either. Mizore doesn’t want to hear whatever it is she has to say.

“No, Moka! I thought you loved me! I thought we had something!” Mizore realizes that she is nearing hysteria and tries in vain to calm herself down but nothing in the world is calming enough to bring her back. She is too far gone, lost in the memories she has with Moka. When the vampire told her she loved her, was she lying?

Had she been using her for blood?

Moka moves to grab Mizore’s wrist as she begins to turn away, but the Snow Woman is having none of it. She yanks her arm out of the way and seethes, “It’s over. Imprint with her instead. I don’t want you anymore. You can’t have any of my blood, ever again!” With that, Mizore runs out the room, slamming the door behind her.

Mizore is pissed. The sadness will come later, she knows, but she is angry, angry enough to melt away her shyness and make her march up to Ginei’s dorm room, the same Ginei that Tsukune had been eyeing the first day of school. He opens the door after a few seconds, sleepy-eyed and wearing nothing but pajama pants. His eyes widen.

“Mizore? What are you doing here? You’re going to get in trouble if you get caught in the boy’s dorm, come on in.” He ushers her into his room and closes the door after glancing around the hallway. Mizore sits on his bed and tries not to fidget.

Ginei is known for being a horndog, which is an incredibly accurate description of him, considering he’s a werewolf. A perverted werewolf.

He’s the perfect person for Mizore right now.

“You’re a werewolf, right?” Mizore asks bluntly, although the abruptness of that question prepares neither of them for the questions that follow. Gin nods. “So that means you get in heat. Are you in heat now?” A single glance at his crotch answers her question. Gin leans against the door, hands behind his back, willing himself not to pounce on Mizore. When he’s in heat…and has no one, it hurts. Physically. The pain is agonizing, and it’s even worse if he jerks off. The pain is coming to a peak right now as he finds himself wondering why Mizore had come here, at this hour.

“I want to fuck you,” Mizore says, and she is the only one who isn’t shocked. Gin merely looks at her, still himself enough to ask if she is sure. She nods and kicks off her shoes, pulls off her shirt and skirt and scoots back on his bed. He approaches, looking at the way she folds into herself, as if her bones are bruised, are something to be hidden. Gin ignores her vulnerability and pushes her down gently, hovering on all fours over her.

Mizore swallows nervously. She is about to lose her virginity, with Gin, of all people. Then she remembers the way Moka had stroked Kurumu before she made her presence known and she is granted enough courage to loop a hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss.

It isn’t like it is with Moka, searing and unforgettable. Gin tastes like regret and demons Mizore will never be capable of seeing, tastes like he has had many girls before her. He tastes like someone who will forget her tomorrow.

She doesn’t care, though. Mizore pulls off the remainder of her clothing, including her socks, and helps him out of his own clothing. Gin searches his dresser drawer for a condom and leaves it on the dresser, waiting. He kisses promises he can’t keep into her skin, trails his fingers like knives down her arms and waits for Mizore, waits for a cry of pain or pleasure, waits for her to tell him what she wants. Mizore does not disappoint.

“Just take me,” she whispers, the meaning behind those words going right over Gin’s head. Mizore knows that if he takes her, the Imprint will be broken. She doesn’t understand the Imprint or what it is, really, but she does know that it tied her and Moka together and she no longer wants to be tied. She doesn’t want her anymore.

The fire in her stomach says otherwise.

Gin slides the condom on and takes his dick in his hand, letting the head rub against Mizore. She lets out a soft sigh of frustration, which he of course misinterprets. Without another moment’s hesitation he enters her, eliciting a gasp of pain. Gin is still himself enough to hold still and wait for her to adjust around him, and when she does he begins moving, thrusting long and deep into her.

Mizore wraps her legs around his waist to allow better access and falls back onto his pillows, reaches up a hand to wipe away sweat that mists on her forehead. She closes her eyes but opens them immediately when images of Moka and Kurumu swim on her closed eyelids. The images are enough incentive to grab Gin and pull him down for another kiss. She begins to move under him and lets slight moans escape her mouth. Gin swallows the moans and kisses her around them, kissing a girl he doesn’t know is bruised and battered and using him as a tool to forget. He doesn’t know that she is breaking on the inside as they move rhythmically together, doesn’t know the pain that comes when an Imprint is broken.

It breaks when Gin comes. It takes longer than he had thought it would, considering he was in heat. He pulls out with the intention to change condoms and go again when Mizore cries out in pain and sits up, scooting far away from him. She doubles over into herself and ignores him when he asks if he did something wrong.

The pain is searing, scarring and absolutely everywhere. The fire trails in her veins, in her bones, in her ribs and her head and Mizore doesn’t know what to do other than to attempt to hold herself together. Gin pulls her into his arms and whispers sweet nothings in her ears in an attempt to quiet her cries, and it works. She focuses on him telling her that everything will be okay and tries to ignore the pain.

She brings up a memory of her and Moka in her mind.

It is a cold day. Mizore wants nothing more than to go to the small lake she had discovered one day whilst exploring, and Moka wants to join her. She doesn’t protest as the vampire falls into step beside her, doesn’t say a word when she grabs her hand. They walk to the lake without speaking, although to Mizore it seems that they never did have to say anything.

Words are foolish. She says everything she needs to in her kisses, in the way she presses her face into the curve of Moka’s neck as she sucks her blood, in the way she squeezes her hand before letting go. Words are clumsy to Mizore, and so she must use other means to communicate.

Trouble is, she doesn’t know what it is she wants to say.

That day, though, Mizore had no worries. She forgot her clumsiness and her forgetfulness (ironically enough). She froze the lake solid and walked out on to it, noticeable more graceful on ice than on land. The vampire follows after a moment’s hesitation, just as graceful as Mizore. They lie down on the cool ice together and look up at the stars.

“Do you know how many stars there are?” Mizore asks as they lie together. It is a question she asked nearly daily in her childhood. She smiles softly as she remembers how it used to drive her mother crazy.

“One for each reason I love you,” Moka says, surprising her. Mizore turns her head to look at her incredulously but Moka is faster, and she catches Mizore’s lips with her own, tasting all the unspoken questions in her mouth.

Mizore is lost in moments like this. At times, Moka could be cold and arrogant, but now—this was the Moka she loved. The Moka she was when no one but Mizore was around for miles.

The meaning behind Moka’s words finally catches up to her and Mizore pulls away. “Wait…does that mean you love me?” She sits up and regards Moka silently, waiting.

“Yes,” Moka says simply, catching Mizore’s cheek in her hand. “Yes, Mizore. I love you.”

Mizore does not know what to say. To her, love means forever, and she doesn’t know if she wants to disgrace her mother and her village by being with a woman and therefore unable to birth any children. Moka’s lips convince her that it’s worth it, though, and she finds herself whispering in the stillness of the night.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

The pain fades, like all pain must, and when it does Mizore puts her clothing back on. Gin watches her dress from the bed, disappointment rolling off him in waves. That had numbed the pain but it would be back soon, and he had hoped Mizore would stay to help keep it at bay. She wouldn’t, though, and he knew he had to let her go.

Gin couldn’t help but with he could let himself go, too.

Mizore is…lost. Lost without Moka and lost without the hope the vampire had blossomed within the Snow Woman. She finds herself back at the red sea, back where it all began. She had been brought here when she was kidnapped. She rescued herself here.

This is where she fought for herself.

This is where she’s going to stop fighting.

She approaches the edge of the cliff and looks down at the red waves breaking against the rocks below. It was high, about twenty feet. Mizore closes her eyes and her lips move in a soundless whisper. She hears someone behind her and spins, eyes widening when she sees Moka standing not ten feet away.

“Moka,” Mizore says, breathlessly, as if she’s just run a mile.

“Mizore.” The word is clipped and brief. Mizore knows why.

“The Imprint,” Mizore says. “I broke it.” Moka nods.

“I know you did.”

“I’m not sorry.”

Moka has no reply to this, no reaction at all aside from the slight narrowing of her eyes.

Silence reigns for several moments, in which the two girls stare at each other uncertainly. Neither know where to go from here.

“I saw you with Kurumu,” Mizore blurts, then blushes. She had spoken to Moka then, the vampire obviously already knew, but Moka ignores the stupidity of her outburst and sighs.

“I’m sorry about that, Mizore. It was not my intention to hurt you.”

“Why did you do it?” Mizore’s voice is, embarrassingly enough, vulnerable and small. She knows Moka has the power to break her heart, but she doesn’t care, she just wants the truth.

“Because I wanted her,” Moka says honestly, and the words are enough to harden Mizore’s resolve. She stalks forward and, standing on her tip-toes, presses her lips against Moka’s. The vampire’s mouth is familiar, all the tastes and smells are the same. Mizore feels as if she’s come home.

When Moka has the audacity to flick her tongue over Mizore’s lips as if asking for entrance, Mizore breaks the kiss, her eyes an apology.

“This,” she says, tapping Moka’s lips with her index finger to show what she means, “is my swan song.” The meaning catches up to Moka too late, and she watches as Mizore backs up slowly, then all at once. She launches herself off the side of the cliff and does not reappear, does not pop her head back up and laugh and say it was all a joke. Moka makes herself move after several seconds have passed and she looks down at the water, hoping against hope to see her beloved holding on, but she is nowhere. The water is calm.

Moka falls to her knees, face blank.

It’s almost as if Mizore was never really here at all.

PSA(?)

Guys--I just wanted to let you know that I'm working on another fanfiction again. I've been neglecting this blog, I know, but it takes time to write stories and I began a few hours ago (I'm almost on page four now) and I don't think I'm close to being finished, but I think this might end up as a series, in a way.

It's Rosario+Vampire again, seeing as how my last fanfiction of said series was so popular. I got over five hundred views and I just want to say thanks guys, it really means a lot that you're reading them, but don't be afraid to comment! Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you'd like to see happen in the future, if you want more of a certain story...I'm here to please, and it's all up to you guys.

So. The story is Mizore x Moka again because I just can't stop shipping them, and also I'm a fan of yuri pairings XD and it's an AU. Outer Moka, pink-haired Moka doesn't exist. Inner Moka is out all the time, but the rosary is sill there to keep the majority of her power sealed. And--the story should continue much like Moka's and Tsukune's did, only with inner Moka and Mizore. Does that make sense? Anyway, I'm going to be modifying the school to fit what I want it to be, and also to help get Mizore and Moka together. x3 (I'm sorry, I just really really like it when  person is all possessive and "MINE" with someone else, it's super hot if both people are okay with it--like, forced possessiveness/nonconsensual anything is not okay, but if they like it, it's a different story. Sorry, I'm babbling.)

Anyway, the story will be done soon, and it might be part one of parts--I dunno, maybe a whole bunch or maybe not. So, comment and tell me what you'd like? What you didn't like about my stories? Pairings in any fandom that you'd like to see? If you hate what I wrote tell me why, so I can improve. Please try to refrain from being rude though, a happy writer means hot lemons XD

So...yeah. -blows kiss- I love you all! x3

PSA(?)

Hey guys! I've noticed that a lot of people have been reading my Rosario Vampire fanfiction (over three hundred views!) so I just wanted to say that if you wanted to request a fanfiction for any pairing, then you can do that! I mean, just comment on a post. I'm in a lot of fandoms so I'll probably be in one that you like. And just message me on Tumblr, you don't even need an account to do that (though it would be greatly appreciated because of you message me off anon I can private reply). Just go to:

http://inconsolablyopendoor.tumblr.com/ask

and yeah, it's a roleplay blog for an OC I made. If you want to rp that'd be great! Just read the stuff there so you know what's what. Thanks for reading, everyone! I love you all. -blows kiss-

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~