9. Lost Moon
The mission had just ended.
The two of them walked back to their room in silence.
But from behind, Izala could clearly feel...
He was angry. Very angry.
The moment the door closed-
Bang!
Izala was shoved hard against the wall.
His back hit the cold surface with a sharp jolt of pain.
But before he could react-
A hot breath rushed in.
Mutsukumo's lips crashed onto his.
The kiss was far from gentle.
It was fierce. Urgent. As if declaring ownership.
He bit, tangled, tightened his arms around Izala's waist.
"Mutsu-"
Izala tried to pull back, but Mutsukumo didn't let him.
He placed a hand behind Izala's neck, holding him in place.
His breath was heavy, laced with possessiveness.
He pressed in again, lips crashing down once more.
"Mm..." Izala shivered, his hand instinctively clutching Mutsukumo's shirt.
The scent of bird-of-paradise flowers filled the space.
Mutsukumo kissed him deeper, teeth grazing his lower lip-
As if punishing him, or perhaps proving a point.
Finally, he let go.
Both of them were breathing heavily.
He leaned his forehead against Izala's, voice rough:
"I hate when others look at you."
"Mutsu..." Izala gasped, eyes wavering slightly.
"I want you to belong only to me."
Izala froze.
His hands still gripped tightly at his waist, his eyes dangerous and intense.
This time, Izala didn't avoid him.
He gently reached out, touched Mutsukumo's cheek, and whispered:
"I've never belonged to anyone else, Mutsu."
Mutsukumo tightened his hold and let out a low chuckle.
"Then let me make that even clearer."
---
"But if you leave a mark..."
"The organization will notice, Mutsu..."
Izala spoke softly, fingers tightening around his shirt.
Mutsukumo paused.
He looked into Izala's two-toned eyes-one blue, one gold-flickering with rare hesitation.
But he didn't back down.
"Then... where won't they see it?"
His voice was low, laced with danger.
Before Izala could respond-
He leaned down, lips brushing over Izala's pale neck.
His sensitive skin trembled.
Mutsukumo's breath was hot.
His hand rested on Izala's hip, holding him steady as his mouth grazed lightly along the skin.
"Mutsu... don't..."
Izala exhaled shakily, fingers digging into Mutsukumo's shoulder.
But Mutsukumo didn't stop.
He parted his lips and bit down gently.
A faint but clear mark bloomed on the hidden part of Izala's neck.
"Right here. No one will see it."
Mutsukumo murmured with a low chuckle.
Izala turned away, face flushed, but said nothing more.
He had been marked.
---
Izala gently touched the red mark on his neck-where Mutsukumo had just left his claim.
It still felt warm.
Every time his fingers brushed over it, he could clearly feel it-he had been marked.
A blush crept up his face.
He wasn't good at expressing emotions, but even he could feel his heartbeat racing.
"Don't touch it."
Mutsukumo's deep voice rang out.
Izala looked up, meeting the possessive gaze in Mutsukumo's eyes.
He still hadn't let go, one hand resting on Izala's hip, his arm firm against Izala's chest as if unwilling to part.
"It's mine."
He said, his eyes full of meaning.
Izala paused for a moment.
A strange feeling stirred in his chest.
Not resistance. Not rejection-
But a silent acknowledgment.
---
Izala stood in front of the mirror, carefully wrapping bandages around his neck.
Mutsukumo's mark was still glaringly red, even after Izala had used magic to dull it. But even as the color faded, the burning sensation lingered on his skin.
He tightened the gauze slightly, fingers unconsciously brushing over the spot.
"You're hiding my mark, huh?"
Mutsukumo leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowing.
Izala didn't turn around. He stared at the reflection in the mirror and replied softly:
"The organization will notice."
Mutsukumo smirked and walked up behind him, warm breath brushing the nape of his neck.
"I don't like it."
He reached out and tugged gently at the edge of the bandage.
Izala caught his wrist, their eyes locking in the mirror.
"Mutsu, don't be reckless."
Mutsukumo frowned slightly, his gaze darkening for a second-but then he chuckled and leaned down, placing a light kiss on the bandage.
"I'll let it slide this time."
He said, though his eyes still glinted with reluctance.
---
Time passed, and they continued to keep their relationship a secret, a private bond shared only between the two of them.
But to those with sharp eyes, Mutsukumo's changes were impossible to ignore.
Once a cold-blooded killer, merciless and ruthless-he had grown "soft" toward only one person: Izala.
When Izala got hurt, Mutsukumo would storm into any place just to bring him back. When Izala was tired, he had no qualms about sitting quietly beside him, sharing the silence he loved.
But Mutsukumo's jealousy only grew more obvious over time.
He didn't like anyone standing too close to Izala. Didn't like anyone talking to him for too long. Even the gaze of others toward Izala irritated him.
"Mutsu, don't be like that."
Izala gently warned, after watching him scare a teammate pale.
"What do you mean 'like that'? I just don't like people hovering around you."
Mutsukumo crossed his arms and tilted his chin defiantly, clearly unapologetic.
Izala simply sighed, but there was a faint smile in his eyes.
One day, after finishing a mission, they returned to their room.
Mutsukumo suddenly pulled Izala into a tight embrace from behind.
"Hey. Don't leave me."
Izala stiffened slightly-but then gently rested his hand on Mutsukumo's.
"I've never planned to."
Mutsukumo lowered his head, burying his face in Izala's shoulder, arms tightening.
"Good. Then don't ever change your mind."
Izala didn't reply, but the corners of his lips curved ever so slightly-a silent agreement.
Outside, the world of witches remained dangerous and full of chaos.
But at least in this room... the two of them still belonged to each other.
End.
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