A Munto Fanfiction: One Heart © RedWingedAngel002
Disclaimer: Munto; Sora Miageru Shōjo no Hitomi ni Utsuru Sekai © Kyoto Animation; Yoshiji Kigami and Tomoe Aratani
Genre: Drama, Erotica, Fantasy, and Romance
Summary: The ruby teardrop then flickered, twinkled from the even movement of her chest, and brought his attention towards her budding curvature. Munto's Adam's apple bobbed once, while heat pooled into his lower belly. Perhaps being alone with her was unwise… —Mature-content warning— MxY.

A/N: Here featured is the extended version of my current doujinshi, One Heart. I have a total of four comics planned out, each which will be written for this story, however, am honestly not sure if I will finish drawing them due to motivational purposes. It's harder than it looks; I'm eighty hours in and have managed to finish the first two pages out of sixty—which will be added onto thanks to this written portion. *sigh* I'll keep on hauling away, though.
For those who are interested in viewing my work, you may via my art blog weblink. A heads up for obvious not safe for work (NSFW) material; scroll down to the green pages for this chapter: redwingedangel002-art-blog. tumblr tagged/one-heart
My inspiration was derived from Lena's interpretation, Wait and Weightless: fanfiction s/4835238/7/Of-Emeralds-and-Rubies
WARNING: This fanfiction contains underage, explicit sexual activity intended for readers eighteen years and older. If uncomfortable, please push the back button upon your selected Internet browser and have a good day.

Songs: Good Day and It Hurts by: Angels and Airwaves, Forevermore by: Broken Iris, Breath of Life by: Florence+ the Machine, Shh by: Imogen Heap, Lift (Dramadance Remix) and Temple of Thought by: Poets Of The Fall, and Don't Let Go (feat. Bryan Adams) by: Sarah McLachlan

Japanese Index:
None.

"Talking."
'Thinking.'
Memories/Flashbacks.

Chapter 1: Under My Skin

Munto's howl reverberated across the curved horizon. There, a bitter taste remained on the palate of his mouth. He urged the tension at his jaw to loosen, his fists to ease their red crescent hold, while the lament chill of loss succumbed to his very bones.

Nothing else could have been done to save Gas…

Eyes of bullion parted, cast right and below, towards the lone human girl who had ended their yearlong spoils of war. He found his Right Hand and Healer make their way towards her drifting form and he too did the same. Shooting across the sky like a star, he reunited with his comrades in a matter of seconds.

"Munto!" Beneath his scowl, Rui's gaze flashed with pallid concern. "You needn't worry! The girl is all right!"

Despite his general's blatant observation, the king hovered towards Yumemi with an air of caution. He watched her pursed lips, dancing locks—like honeyed ribbons—and sleep-arched lashes. It was unnerving to see the maiden suspended under no support—she had already given him quite the scare—and yet the humming Akuto rippling under sheer, unadulterated power majestically kept her afloat.

Callus-hinted palms rose at midpoint, brushed inches below her knees and caught in the web of her hair. Unconsciously, her body understood safety was near, and the energy's hold winked away and was met by his steadfast grasp. Her lightweight was welcomed.

Relief washed over him as he held her close. 'Thank goodness. She is safe.'

Munto's attention then fell to his respected subordinates, glad to see them alive and well—again, all thanks to the girl in his arms. Ready to take any command their King bid, Rui and Shuza silently admired the predecessors' vision unravel right before their eyes: He who brought order and returned the cycle back to the Heavens. Munto was their hope, as Yumemi was his.

Simply, said monarch offered a curt nod, diminishing any expectant order from his allies, and gradually veered towards a yawning echo. Miles away, six elfin ears caught the celebratory cheers of his people, which acknowledged their first step towards peace. Guridori's remains dissolving below the cloudbank signified just that.

The winter skies caressed each of the unyielding soldiers, painting the gradient canvas with peach sunset and culmination. Their war had ended, as a new future had now begun.

Finally, they could return home…

His pristine stride descended from the gnarled staircase and circled around the roaring waterfall. Rhythmic footfalls disturbed the untouched grass and clicked across a cobblestone pathway, which vined towards the red roofed gazebo, resuming downward still, and thus to a secluded sanctuary.

The corner of his lip twitched up a degree and released a chuckle whence admiring the quaint bedding his maids had prepared for their guest. It was not much, for many of the spare rooms either had been closed due to visiting gentry or destroyed amongst battle, but it would have to do. The greenhouse suited Yumemi well, if he said so himself, and would hopefully remind her the best qualities of home.

Munto paused to ponder on how he would handle the girl's placement without disturbing her. He took a seat, the mattress bowing under his weight, and removed the feathered quilt with one graceful swoop. He leaned forward, cradling her limp form under a spare hand—her breath tantalizing at the collar of his neck—and fluffed out the cream pillow. Yumemi's absolute comfort was a necessity.

With a series of frustrated grunts, the king had managed to successfully disentangle their limbs, and realized, then, how utterly alone they were. In this quiet moment, he watched her—the golden halo surrounding her peaceful face, appearing angelic in the twilight—fully drinking her in now that there were no other distractions.

Oddly enough, she had the tendency to be the distraction; he could hardly concentrate prior to the battle with Guridori, let alone while in her presence. It was infuriating—how she had the ability to dominate his senses without any effort at all, to unravel him whole—yet her accompaniment was fulfilling all the same…

The ruby teardrop then flickered, twinkled from the even movement of her chest, and brought his attention towards her budding curvature. Munto's Adam's apple bobbed once, while heat pooled into his lower belly. Perhaps being alone with her was unwise.

'You have blossomed, Yumemi.' His heavy-lidded gaze softened. 'Despite this, you have yet to come to your senses. Just as I, with these affections.' All that he understood was that this lone human was important—precious.

With aching tenderness, his hand rose to brush a stray lock from her brow into place. It was then that his fingers recoiled, apprehensive to touch her for the dire consequences—as did his terrifying prediction foresaw—however, was reminded that there was nothing to fear. Yumemi gave him the confidence that she would be safe with him… She was safe.

Fickle were the tides of restraint, for he found himself swept up in an unmistakable yearning, which had begun to take root within his core. Gently then, Munto brushed his forehead against hers; silken bangs—reassuring—kissed the knit of red, while he emitted a content sigh. Unlike the chemical burn, which would ripple when each physically touched, her essence was lulling. It was though his burdens suddenly melted away, as too the scenery. Just her—her heart, presence, scent, smile—his dream—that was all that mattered.

She was here—protected—within his reach.

Suddenly, his breath hitched. Within twin jewels of emerald, his reflected visage anxiously stared back. Inch by inch, the man slowly retreated; raw senses now fumbled for their guard, while he quietly sought her reaction. His brows furrowed, perplexed. Yumemi did not scream nor push him away; she simply stared up at him in surprised wonderment. He noticed the undeniable splash of rouge, which painted across her cheeks, and could not help but give in to drawing closer—to see more of what she had yet to offer him—to breathe the very syllables of her name across her pursed mouth.

"Yumemi…?" The shaken vibrato of his bass sounded foreign, yet was cut by the sealing motion of the girl's hesitant caress.

She stayed there, each of their tender flesh locked—he could feel her lips quivering—until he submitted himself into her humbled intimacy. She slipped a muffled gasp, which he inclined to withdraw, yet was pulled back—eager—by the collar.

One moment his right palm was holding her arm steady, the next was marveling over the dip and bow of her hip. His knees rose, heaving himself down to the beckoning softness, to where he caged Yumemi with his hovering frame.

She gave a clumsy suckle on his bottom lip and he responded by glossing his tongue over her own yielding mouth. Her taste was wet and exceedingly divine. In a daze, he proceeded with his sensual ministrations. She too welled within her own curious explorations as the blonde tickled his nape, attenuate fingers combing through feather-light strands and up a pointed ear. A shudder quaked within his kindled abdomen, and he groaned, leaning breathlessly into her touch.

He could barely withhold his stray movements, pathway jerky and anticipation swelling, while he pawed under her winter garment and pressed against flesh. Goose bumps prickled under his palm, sternum hidden under the cream threads now revealing a pert breast.

Yumemi's whimper allowed consciousness to creep into the maelstrom within his mind. Their lips parted—haggard—reluctant—and he found purchase within the crook of her succulent neck, thankful there was a barrier, how ever small, hidden in between.

Shit, he really messed up.

"Yumemi… Tell me no—" Deft fingers dug deep into the pillow; a light chafing sound emitted from cotton, strenuous under his trembling hand. Selfish—lewd—fool. Yet the temptation burned on by her vanilla scent and the hint ash remains. "Order me to stop. If not, then I—"

He bit his inner-cheek—hard—until the taste of iron swathed his tongue and overtook her sweet coating. That was no legitimate excuse. Even here, a nation, which indulged within their youth due to their depleting life-energy, the girl was barely considered an adult. Had he no shame? Where was his self-restraint? He respected her too much to act like some feral animal in heat.

"…I believe in you, Munto."

His chest heaved, throat tight, the life-giving muscle enclosed within a palpitating drum. A strange noise, mixed between a wheeze and grunt—as if drowning—escaped his very lungs. No, this utter astonishment was familiar; hours prior—her passionate lecture.

The redhead's muddled emotions suddenly veered to frustration.

Who was she to trust him so fervently? Sustaining their future was a commitment, for their worlds' sake, but this… This had some relevant meaning towards fondness, did it not? For her heart was too innocent to merely hand her virtue to the plunders of lust so easily. How could she realize, when he…

Never one to back down from a challenge, Munto removed himself from the angora cavern she provided and locked brewing amber with luster jade. He watched her. Lips curved upward—much redder than before, and a heaving chest—exposed, soft, pink-cotton, which struggled for air. She did not shy away from his potent gaze.

Everything, every compelling bicker, guilty reprimand, and mental retaliation, which plagued his roaring thoughts was dissipated by her beaming smile. Finally, he understood what these clashing feelings represented.

The need to protect—one who so vigorously shook him—his very soul, unto the brink of madness, and was the cause to question his robust, moral code; she who he could marvel at for hours on end, whether her growing beauty, intelligence, or wit, lest in the beacon of her mercy—to soak, relish at the strength hidden behind green-sun eyes, and exchange his very life for her fundamental well being—

She was the key towards his future, his other half whom he was inexplicably bound to. It was almost frightening to submit to such a declaration—yet he had never felt so attached to someone since the death of his honorable parents. It all then clicked together. Have the Heavens collapse and Earth subside in pitch darkness, forevermore would he stay loyal by her side.

'I would call you a fool, but you are just as aware as I. If it were not for your strength, I would never have overcome that terror. You have managed to crawl under my skin and rouse so many conflictions within myself. It frustrates me. However, I now understand that I am not the only one. You too are just as afraid.'

With his revelation set in place, in a blink, Munto's burning gaze became fierce. No longer doubtful, steady hands reunited with her skin, lifting, and searched for the clasps constricting her breasts—recalling how she did so through her memories—and succeeded. Cascading fingers brushed down her curved spine and turned to admire the two mounds of his goal. His palms slithered under wire, revealed, and lightly fondled her rosebud nipples.

In response, with her modesty now fully exposed, Yumemi flinched away in embarrassment.

"Look at me." He wanted to watch the blur of her awakened, pleasure-filled vision. "Do not close your eyes."

She bid under the monarch's hushed command and ran those jewels over him as he confiscated the leather jacket donning his lithe physique. With a flick of his wrist, the goldenrod belt intersecting across his sharp hips too was thrown aside.

He moistened his lips and returned his attention to her bosom. Massaging, kneading, pinching, tweaking… How simple they were to mold under his hand. His loins tightened at this said action. It was then he had replaced his learning palms with an urgent mouth.

"A-ah!" Yumemi yelped at the unexpected warmth, overcome by its new touch.

The texture was taut, yet ever-so soft. However, she was shaking. Was it all too much for her at once? With that consideration in mind, he removed his lips, caressing her erect areola with his tongue in careful circles, and reflected his actions upon her neglected left, while leaving a trail of quick kisses in his wake. Alas, the attempt to ease was naught; she shook more.

Concerned, his pale gaze flicked up to find her head lulled back and with closed lids. She was concentrating. Pride swelled within his chest, for Munto's idol hand then traveled down the juncture of her thigh and up the tight skirt, which constricted her legs' movements. It was selfish desire, yet he wanted to study her—map every freckle and scar—watch what he could create. He yearned to teach her more; he wanted more.

There was a gasp, and she gripped at his forearm. "W-wait."

A pause. He did not move. This was her decision.

"Shall I stop?" he softly offered.

Curled fingers gradually loosened their hold. Her eyes were wide—waning, abashed.

"N-no. I've… I've never…" came her timid mumble, while rows of teeth nervously gnawed against their bottom companion.

…Cute.

"I know. You need to be prepared first."

Resuming his trek, her clammy knees widened for entry, until met with the damp fabric of her underwear. Her lips quivered, choking on air, while palms flung to cease the cry threatening to escape from her throat. No, that would not do; there would be no more hiding.

He encircled the maiden's wrist, fingers harsh and dominant against the mattress.

"What did I say before?" he growled against a pearl-adorned ear. "Let me hear you."

She emitted a shy noise. "But…"

With another stroke, he was elated to catch a mere exhale. Her shoulders gradually relaxed, as too did her legs, while she melted under his touch. It was only when she started to squirm did he delved deeper, passing beneath the elastic across her supple hips, a nest of curls, and to her weeping sex.

The blonde made the sweetest sounds when he touched her. Working within the foreign textures slowly, he dipped only a single digit adjacent from his pointer and out again, while awaiting her adjustment towards his intrusion. He then entered in a circular motion—her thigh's muscles constricting—a doting mewl—and pushed further in rhythm until the base of his palm was pressed firmly against her folds.

"How is it? Good?" was his low, suave purr.

Heavy lids parted to reveal glazed crescents. "Mm-hmm… It feels nice."

His lips broadened. Yet he had not reached it—like before, her flailing peak. Removing his coated finger, he broadened upward and pursued for the silky bud of excited nerves. It should be just about—

"Mmph!?" Her nails bit deep into their interlaced knuckles, back arching effortlessly off the sheets.

There we are…

He continued to tease her, watched her writhe—the crescendo of her voice—her growing release—and increased his number of digits. In turn, the girl's panting became shallow, while her pelvis ground against his set pace. Good, she was beginning to learn.

Munto bit back an apology after witnessed her blatant disappointment. Peering down from his confident height, she looked absolutely frazzled.

Idly, he observed the condensed liquid, while rubbing his middle and thumb together in experimentation, and gave a smug grin when testing her heady flavor. Unique, salty, Yumemi.

"Well then, it appears your preparations are complete."

His visage softened when she expressed her confusion. Now was not wise to act arrogant; they were equals in terms of mirrored status, burdens, and past; those who were outcast from the uncontrollable powers, which derived from the web of politics and fateful predictions, as each learned to empathize the other from this ostracization.

"Munto, my body feels weird." Rolling the bunched wool from her waist, he guided her calves to complete the removal. "I don't understand. Is this normal?"

Munto motioned to her remaining garments, pulling the thick sweater overhead and the straps at her shoulders. They landed somewhere at the rear of the mattress and joined the clothes he discarded previously. All resided was the crimson pendant, which started their current, fevered madness. Then, he watched her in awe, and caressed invisible sweeps up her naked, buttermilk skin.

…God, she was beautiful.

He then pressed her left palm unto the hard terrain of his tunic-bound chest.

"See my heart. It is beating fast, is it not? There is nothing strange about what you are feeling;" he claimed for reassurance, "it is only new."

In a breath of hesitation, he unzipped and pulled out his swollen desire from maroon leather. Steady, he mounted her, the curve of her stomach soft.

The redhead obliged one final opportunity to reengage. "Now, are you certain? I cannot do this without you."

"Yes." Her small smile bloomed into place until cautious eyes observed his protruding penis. "Um… Will it fit?"

Tan lips deepened from second-thought. Her concern was understandable; everything about her was so tiny in comparison. Example shown in her fingertips; they alone barely reached the second digit towards his larger hands. Her body reflected the same: petite, bird-like, and frail. Yet, she had overcome obstacles to those even he could not conquer, passing through the resilient river of space and time; however, this was different. Would she truly be all right? *1

"It will, I assure you, though it may be painful to a certain extent," he warned.

With an affirmative nod, he pressed his inflamed tip against her vulva and slowly pushed inward. He could not resist groaning—the tight stretching as he claimed her innocence—her pure Akuto singing within his veins—only to falter when he reached at midpoint.

"Yu-me-mi…" He hitched her name in broken syllables, emphasizing each individually as in prayer—winded and loving—just as she did his that summer ago.

White teeth grit together, hearing the compressed air at his temple pop, while he trembled under the overwhelming sensation—like a chilling storm comprised of only searing heat up his spine. His locked elbows buckled forward; it took his all not to impale himself deeper into the euphoric bliss.

Amongst his ragged panting, Munto begged for cooperation. "You must relax. Trust me… Believe in me…" Forgive me.

Her knit lashes fluttered open at his movement; he withdrew and met with her once more, to go no further where she gained discomfort. With a lap at his thumb, he persistently rubbed her clit until the clenching sheath around him loosened and he was able to wedge himself snug between her thighs.

Then, he encircled them in an embrace, while each regulated to the novel experience. A sigh disturbed the air—whose was not relevant, he could feel it deep within his gut; her pulse strong against his. In this moment, time was meaningless.

Hushed against her crown, he tilted his chin downward—long nose skimming against peach softness—to seek her condition. "Does it hurt?"

"A little." Yumemi stared at their union, only to turn to him whence speaking.

As expected. "Hold on."

Tender, he placed a rueful kiss at her lips, relieved to have her arms wrap around his broad shoulders for support, and elevated his weight back upon his wrists.

The first buck was initiated and she gasped against him, clasping as he filled her up once, twice, and three times more. In a fluid motion, she met up with him, which caused their raw friction to deepen. A curse dripped from his mouth, as he leaned back wide-eyed in astonishment.

Her pelvis stilled, sheepish. "Sorry, was that no good?"

"Do that again," he growled.

"'Kay." Pursed lips tipped as she smiled, and interlocked their lips once more by guiding hands.

She was growing bold with her discoveries, sucking at the tender flesh of his tongue and catching it between her teeth. He rumbled in encouragement—at the pull of his nape—and plunged into both her taste and warmth alike with building zest.

Gradually, their pace quickened, pounding deeper—frantic for harmonious pursuit—until both were bound with no restraint. All the while, the very essence of his spirit cried his enlightenment towards his human lover.

'I want to protect you and your everything—'

Their rocketing then gained such force, unto the point where her hair snagged to expose the ruddy love bites along her neck. In her whimpered protest, Munto mercilessly lashed the pillow aside. Whence striking, his aim slipped by fault, staggering as both quirked nervous grins, and reunited once more.

Emerald revealed her gratitude, only to widen at the experimental curl to rest two heels upon his clad rump. She offered a pleasure-filled moan—scraping ribbons down his spine—while he gave his own animalistic reply. The new position added onto their efficient movement, though hindered hers. He took over swiftly without complaint.

'…Because to me, you are my—'

The clap of skin became apparent as his tempo became more frenzied and urgent. At this point, she grappled his biceps with all her strength, while salty beads slipped down his jaw and decorated her collarbone. With the need for closeness, he bent to cradle his left arm across and under her slight shoulders to brace for impact. Her brimming dams signified she was approaching her climax, as was he.

"Yumemi!" His spare hand laced their taut fingers together. Whence found, he would not let go. "Yumemi…!"

"Mun-to! I-I—" Her sob was lost momentarily, compelled by their delicious torture, to then erupt in the form of a high-pitched squeal.

'…Most precious.'

The tension strained within released molten liquid up his legs and expelled from his juncture, while his body appeared to have caved in to breaking point. Their simultaneous rapture burst in a starburst of color and bellowed outcry, which echoed across the domed greenhouse. With one final grunt, he thrust forward and spilled his seed into her convulsing, insistent fruits.

'I will not close myself from you like that again.'

Then, their primal dance came to a close. Excluding their shared breath, silence condemned them, while each drifted upon the lapping tides mutual love provided; where beauty, hope, and trust intersect.

Munto then withdrew himself, reaping where they were so tightly sewn, and rolled to alleviate his crushing weight upon the poor girl. In a boneless state of ecstasy, he raked light trails along her torso, while she gulped for air. Soon, the heaving of her flushed chest lessened, evening in pace, where she was lulled within pull-string slumber.

There, he pecked a tender kiss at her crown, nuzzled against hers, to then tip back and find pitch darkness. The man froze, while ice grew within his breast like a virus until it took over his once heated skin. He soon realized Yumemi's warmth was still present; instinct clung to that hope. Whence accommodating, two radiant suns desperately searched the verdant cavern for answers.

All was as placed, except the soft twilight had now long set. A pounding fret set when noting her garbed figure and his soiled pants. Humiliation flared up his neck.

"It cannot be…" No, that was too vivid to be some erotic fantasy. Despite this, the inkling of doubt arose, which was then overcome by dawn understanding when he eyed her peppered cheeks. "This was like that time—Our hearts—?"

With a single brush—a chaste kiss of skin upon skin—the two universes collided. Flickers, memories of her childhood ricocheted off the continuum's membrane and merged with his spirit.

The same mind-numbing effects flooded when he caught her, tossed against the wave she bore, which with their harmonious strength combined, unlocked the Outsider curse held dormant within. The seconds clicked back to its overwhelming pace and towards his current predicament.

So, their intimacy was merely through psychic contact, but with conscious control, if he could wrap around the possibility. Was reason said because he was not armed—for her reverent faith? A strange sense of hurt twisted in his chest; he felt cheated. *2

Munto's throat constricted when he compelled away from her temptation, grounded his feet, and turned to face the entrance. Forlorn, he placed his elbows against clad knees, bowed to finger through wild firelocks and pulled at the roots in frustration. The day's events took their toll; from nearly perishing twice within the last twenty-four hours, the fallen comrades, which were sacrificed in exchange of reverting the Akuto crisis, Gntarl's attack upon Yumemi's hometown… In addition, the previous two nights were without rest; he was exhausted. Just a few given hours would suffice.

However, perhaps fate's perverse humor was a godsend; the monarch was now given opportunity to court Yumemi the way a proper lady should. Yes, he needed to compose himself, contemplate this properly—of what his actions would foretell—of what he would say—lest she whimper his name and he become completely fixated towards her calling.

A shaken exhale deflated from his lungs to where he stood poised, tamed his red mane back, and cast his wavering gaze on her passive visage once more. It was likely the same for said blonde; she had much to dwell upon from the traumatic catastrophe, which had taken place. Sadly, there was more she had yet to witness…

Sluggish, Munto hoisted her knees to grab hold of the comforter, billowed out the feathered mass, and tucked it neatly below her chin. He stayed like that, leaned against the marble headboard for a long, long moment, and moved to skim his knuckles down her left cheek, a butterfly's touch. Tentative, they fell upon her mouth, outlined the plump flesh, and recoiled before it was all too much to for him to bear.

There, he spoke his vulnerability aloud, in the breath of a whisper, "Did I reach you?"

With a pivot of his heel, Munto left the girl towards her watercolor dreams and fitful slumber…

Clicking across the columned corridor, shadows splayed dark fingers upon white slabs of marble, while he kept a conscious mind on his trek's speed, subtle for any given audience.

"There you are. I have been looking everywhere for you," the general chimed from behind, curt in pace.

Pelt adorned shoulders stiffened from his Right Hand's summoning, kicking himself at his skittish behavior, and bunched a white-knuckled fist. "Not right now, Rui."

Haste, pristine boots continued to trail his maroon. "But, Munto, despite its abundance, the Akuto flow that girl brought us has—"

"I know!" he snapped at Yumemi's mentioning, overlain bangs blocking the peripheral vision of his friend's genuine concern, and smothered his scorching tone, "Just—! Just give me twenty minutes. I will join you shortly at the conference hall with the others."

Reluctant, the officer's footfalls slowed to a gradual stop, suspicion lacing his voice, evident, "…Yes, sir."

Slamming his personal quarters shut, Munto seethed obscene curses under his breath, "Damn that Rui. Of all the unholy times, he comes in, when I—"

His brisk stride inclined to the right, passed by the yearning, silken bedframe for rest, and entered the lavished washroom. Twisting the silver handle all the way to the left, he stripped off his attire, glaring at the stain such intricate fantasies presented, and stepped into the steaming shower to close the glass door behind him.

Chin tipped against the spraying water, the king sighed into that craved heat, his very element sparking within when the thought of her flushed cheeks and quiet whimpers came to mind. Distastefully clicking his tongue at his desire's abundant growth, he lathered the scented bar within two palms and scoured off the war-induced film layering his skin and hair with blunt nails. An absolute growl reverberated from his throat when he wrapped around his jutted length and pulled. Continuously, her vision as he built their first experience refused to leave his closed lids, compelling him to bow at her mercy, even when without presence.

"Yumemi…!"

The hiss of her name gnawed between bit lips, the pumping motion quickening in fervor, while his breath became clipped and labored. He could still feel the phantom rake of her finger between his shoulder blades. Crescents dug into his left as he crutched his swaying balance, toes curled at the friction, down the twitching base and to an inflamed tip. He had to clamp his mouth shut, rows of teeth aching at the vice pressure when the building ecstasy ran up his spine and expelled.

"Hnk!"

In an instant state of exhaustion, he heaved forward, knees buckling into his arm's support, and let the shower's drum consume the short-lived quiet in his thoughts. Requiring a moment of recuperation, he dropped the flaccid limb and prayed his release would appease this raging lust until he was able to be alone once more. There was a ring of frustration when he turned the water pipes shut, snapping the towel around his sharp hips, and wiped the misted reflection clean.

"Get it together," the king encouraged himself as he combed through the red knots and tossed the damp material aside.

Through magic, a wrist transported his fresh clothing into view, zipping the grey pants once pulled up at his thighs, and ascended to button the black formal shirt and tug at the collar around his clavicle for more air. With a flap, the blue silk was draped across his shoulders, its hem caressing his calves, while deft fingers pinned the cape into place and brushed its creases smooth.

With his mirrored image staring back at him, determination glowering within fierce catseye gold, he lectured to himself that now was no time to be high spent in daydreams. He had a future to uphold.

"…Right."

A songbird's warble drifted through her hazed consciousness, followed by the distant hiss of what sounded like rushing water. She relished the surrounding warmth, taking in its floral scent, to then part jeweled moons and gaze upon the silken tendrils, which peeked through the foliage.

'This is… A dream?' Yumemi blinked once, to clear the remnant fog, and lifted herself from the down softness; there was a light rasp against her ear whence done so. Her neck swerved to and fro, unmistakably searching for one in particular, and settled staring at her toes. Observation shown correct; she was indeed alone.

'Why am I disappointed? I can't face him like this. But if I don't…' An image of her two hopeful friends emerged within her mind's vision. Her stomach churned. They were waiting for her; she had to be brave.

She inclined her head high, reflecting the determination conveyed there, and pulled the coverlet away. Minute gooseflesh crept up her collar, which was caused by the cool gust, as she then glided her bear soles among the admirable flower clusters. The grass was lush and soft.

Step by step, she swayed forward, abandoning the tangled bedding, and dipped under the leafy entrance. Curiosity skewed her features as she managed to pass the waxy planes with little difficulty, soaking in the foreign landscape, until she focused upon the blotch of red, which contrasted amidst the surrounding green canvas.

Her breath bated. Did he guard her all night?

"Munto…?"

The beckoned king who was dressed in regal fashion pivoted, paused only a moment within his graceful arch, and resumed when recognition was confirmed. There, he watched her, as if the very world dissolved around them, he stood simply without a word. Bullion ran up her disarrayed frame, locked his with her own, and he smiled. The softest of sounds accompanied his warm gesture. *3

Yumemi flushed and snapped her wide eyes towards her thundering chest, where she attempted to ease the palpitating muscle by shielding herself. She was too exposed for such attention.

He took stride, holding such elegance as any royal should, and with a quick succession of steps, met with her fidgeting self.

"Did you rest well?" The inquiry was safe enough.

She had to tilt her chin whence speaking. "Y-yes."

"Good." Relief became apparent, dipping his wide shoulders in the form of a sigh. He then reached towards his left and behind, ingot bands catching the morning rays, to reveal a material of some sort. "This is a gift for you."

The remaining Akuto particles twinkled like stars and she impulsively touched the folded silk to make sure it was real. It appeared that there were matching shoes and a bow as well. How pretty…

Watchful, he exchanged the dress and she held it close.

"I trust you can handle this on your own?" Yumemi brought her luster gaze towards the oddity of his query. There, amber held mirth and something dark concealed within. "If not…"

Her ears warmed, while she gaped at his suggestive tone and hitched an intake of breath when her abdomen constricted. At the turn of her foot, she fled from his flirtation and snapped a quick retort. "I know…!"

Once protected within the sanctuary, her skip tapered to a stop. Shaken, Yumemi's pulse roared alongside the memory of phantom hands and their joined heat. Her vision fluctuated from the hilled incline and towards the ruffled mattress where she took rest.

There were no crimson drops amongst the sheets, which could resort in her proof, but the overall ache—the secondary echo within her chest—was enough. It was enough. His speculated wording was fitting. A gift. She did not regret her decision.

Muffled against the gossamer pink, she breathed in the spicy scent his magic provided and closed her long lashes. "…Thank you."

Outside the floral bank, Munto was beaming.

A/N: I do apologize for the long absence; I decided to take my time on this fic, which resided to a few months. Hopefully it was worth the wait? I've managed to encourage myself to write actual sex, so yay?
I'll admit that I took a peek at Mel's Kindred Spirits, alongside Lena's Stay for minor reference when I was stuck between the heated portions. [Mel's DeviantArt ID: 'tenebrous-shenanigan,' and Lena's Fanfiction ID: 'ElfMaidenOfLight.'] Overall, I've strived for a clumsy but heartfelt first time towards le OTP; of what I believe could have been a possibility within the infamous bush scene.
Really, I've been raving about it for years, though once I sat down and really thought of it, I could not have the act physically happen. It felt improper, even shameful on my part, since I reflected on the fact that my sister is only a year younger than Yumemi—I'm not saying that it's a bad thing to explore one's sexuality at fourteen, but I am in hopes of publishing the comic once completed and may be scolded for drawing underage material. Technically I did, but it also technically didn't happen? I'm on the fence. ^^;
So, hear me out to why I selected this scene—besides, you know, having a bed involved: there is no hesitancy towards their touch within the movie transition of episode six, when Munto is holding her—in fact, she tends to curl up into a shy ball when exchanged over to Shuza; however, there is at least an air of caution when the king offers escort. The "preparations" saying was actually a parody comic I drew earlier on this year, but could also click when Yumemi asks about them, while they make way towards Ryueri. And lastly, though likely for fanservice, the girl is not fazed over the fact that he can clearly view her naked spirit when foretelling his memories (even though there was none on his part. *grumble*) Just saying… Just. Saying. :[
Anywho, I hope to see you all in chapter two, if not sooner, for many of my much needed updates have been partially worked on since April. Feedback is always appreciated. Cheers.

—Ari [9.25.13]

*1: Their size different truly is something I adore: tmblr. co/ZCyrMytfo34w
And as much as fanfiction glorifies it, let's not automatically assume Munto's junk is huge, okay? Sometimes it can be painful for the little ones; the cervix can only go so far. It's just a matter of proportion.

*2: A headcannon of mine: tmblr. co/ZCyrMyfpRqZB

*3: I believe Munto's smiles alone are able to indicate his character development: tmblr. co/ZCyrMysXp974

*4: I've literally ripped the series apart to make sure it was in character: tmblr. co/ZCuFQvv_-Rv4

Featured AMV's:
Breath of Life: youtu. be/de2_B_ojGtU
Lift (Dramadance Remix): [Livestream cover] youtu. be/Zs8TN6KT9fs