To Tempt A Saint

Aya leaned closer to Nine, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is he really a monk?" She nudged him lightly with her elbow, her gaze fixed on Honu, who lifted his bottle in a careless toast before taking a deep, satisfied swig. The lantern light flickered, casting shifting shadows across his grinning face.

Across the table, Colla observed with an amused smirk, her chopsticks pausing mid-air.

Nine didn't bother to glance at Honu. His tone remained indifferent. "That's what he says."

Aya narrowed her eyes at the so-called monk. "I don't think so."

Nine didn't argue. Instead, he picked up a piece of food and placed it on her plate, his fingers brushing the rim in a silent command. His voice dropped as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Eat more. We'll talk later."

Aya blinked, momentarily distracted. "About what?"

"Later." He shut down any further questioning by stuffing his mouth full of food, an uncharacteristically lazy act that made it clear he had no intention of discussing anything yet.

Honu, having taken an interest in their quiet exchange, set his drink down and leaned forward, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Aya."

She turned to him with a curious hum. "Hm?"

His expression sobered just enough to be suspicious. "Is Nine forcing you to be with him? Are you threatened in any way?"

Aya's eyes widened, caught completely off guard. She shook her head rapidly, hands waving in frantic denial. "No, no! It's not like that!" As if to further prove her point, she latched onto Nine's arm, hugging it protectively. "He looks intimidating, but he's never forced me into anything."

From the corner of her eye, she caught the brief exchange of glances between Honu and Colla.

Nine leaned back against his chair, exuding effortless confidence, but instead of making a verbal rebuttal, he reached down, grasped one of the legs of Aya's chair, and pulled her closer with a slow, deliberate drag.

Honu pointed accusingly. "See? He's imprisoning—" His words died when Aya, unfazed, happily wrapped her arms around Nine's waist, settling in like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Nine arched a brow, daring Honu to keep talking.

Colla sighed, unimpressed, and resumed eating. "Just shut up, monk."

Honu took another swig of his liquor, grumbling. "I see… they're clingy."

Aya chuckled, her chopsticks stabbing a piece of meat, the juices glistening under the candlelight. "We've known each other almost our whole lives. Nine has always protected me."

Honu studied her carefully. "Are you really fine with him going into battle?"

Nine's brow twitched at Honu's persistent prying, but before he could cut him off, Aya spoke first.

"No." Her voice was quieter this time, more solemn. She turned her gaze to Nine, her expression softer yet unshaken. "But I can't leave him. I love him."

The world around them faded in that moment, tension dissolving into something deeper. The way she looked at him—unwavering, absolute—made something inside Nine clench.

Across the table, Honu let out a long-suffering sigh. "Sheesh. You two are corny."

Colla nodded in agreement.

Nine scoffed, clicking his tongue. "You're pathetic." His eyes flicked to Honu. "Ever held a woman before?"

Honu choked on his drink, coughing violently. "I'm a monk."

"You don't act like one," the three of them replied in unison.

Honu flushed. "No, I've never been intimate with someone," he muttered, drowning himself in more liquor as if that would erase the conversation.

Colla wordlessly clinked her cup against his bottle in an uncharacteristically sympathetic gesture. "Just shut up. You wouldn't understand the feeling."

But Honu, ever persistent, wasn't done. He leaned forward, lowering his voice suggestively. "Have you two been... intimate?" His grin widened. "You know, had—"

Nine's patience snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He swung a hand out, aiming a firm smack at Honu's head.

Honu yelped, skidding his chair back just in time to avoid the hit.

Aya, however, tilted her head in genuine confusion. "Isn't hugging and kissing already intimate?"

Nine went still.

Slowly, he lowered himself back into his seat and resumed eating as if he hadn't heard a thing.

Honu grinned. "Ha! You've got more discipline than I thought."

Colla smirked. "Well, I didn't expect that."

Aya, still confused, leaned toward Nine and whispered, "Am I missing something?"

Nine exhaled through his nose. "Don't mind him," he muttered, taking her free hand and absently running his fingers over hers.

Honu fell silent, watching them with newfound understanding. It wasn't just their words—it was the way they moved around each other, the way Nine, despite his usual coldness, restrained himself. And the way Aya, in turn, looked at him as if he were something sacred.

For once, Honu had nothing left to say.

---

Later that night,

The room was quiet, save for the distant crackle of torches outside. Nine had changed into looser, more comfortable clothing, his hair slightly damp from washing up. They lay side by side on the bed, facing the ceiling.

Aya turned her head slightly. "So? What did you want to talk about?"

Nine parted his lips but hesitated.

How could he say it?

Aya was his desire, he had to let her go.

But letting go of the one thing tethering him to life? Unthinkable. Everything would be meaningless.

"If I inherit an essence," he finally said, voice barely above a murmur, "will you still stay by my side?"

Aya stilled. The silence stretched too long, and Nine's fingers twitched anxiously.

Then, she reached for his hand, squeezing it. "You said you'd make the world better." Her grip tightened. "But you're my world."

Nine swallowed hard.

"Forget the battle," she whispered. "We have each other. Isn't that enough?"

Nine closed his eyes briefly before pulling her into a tight embrace. His breath was unsteady as he murmured against her hair, "I can't, Aya."

His grip unintentionally tightened, and she gasped, pushing lightly against his chest. He let go immediately.

She gazed at him, something unreadable in her expression. "Why can't you?"

He lowered his head. "I'll tell you someday. Just trust me." He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

Aya hesitated before nodding.

After a beat, she whispered, "How did you even meet Honu?"

Nine sighed. "He just appeared," he muttered, and before she could ask more, he pulled her closer, tucking her head beneath his chin.

"I'll come back to you whenever I can. You don't have to wait under that tree."

Aya's breath hitched. Tears welled in her eyes as she buried her face against his chest. "I'll keep waiting," she whispered. "So don't die."

Nine tilted her chin up, brushing his lips against hers in a soft peck.

Aya blinked. "Weird. That's it?"

Nine tilted his head, contemplating. "I think?"

"But the prostitute in the slums said a kiss on the lips is supposed to be…"

"Tasty," Nine finished.

They stared at each other.

Then, experimentally, Nine parted his lips and pressed them against hers. Aya chuckled, pulling away. "That's weirder."

Nine wasn't convinced. He cupped her chin, tilted his head, and kissed her again—deeper this time. Their parted lips met, and their tongues brushed.

Both froze.

The sensation was... startlingly sensitive.

Wide-eyed, they pulled back, flushed.

"That's it," Aya muttered breathlessly. She smiled at the discovery.

Nine swallowed thickly. "...Yeah."

Then, outside, Honu sneezed loudly.

"HONU!" Nine roared at the eavesdropping monk.