Aozaki Touko wasn't the type to hurry. It'd been just before noon when they'd finalized the contract. She spent much of the rest of the day showing Illya around the office, explaining what could be touched and what to stay away from, where the girl would sleep, and that she was to stay away from guests unless given explicit permission to reveal herself. Illya was given a mere glimpse into Touko's dark workshop, with a promise that she'd be seeing much more of it soon enough.
After that, Illya was sat down at Touko's desk while the woman went grocery shopping, given a stack of papers, and told to fill them out. Illya had started off the day apprehensive yet determined, but after the friendly tour, she was left merely confused at the sheer mass of seemingly irrelevant questions that had been thrust into her tiny arms. Why was her favourite flavour of ice cream suddenly relevant to an ethics-flouting Sealing Designate, and what could she possibly do with such information?
In the end Illya answered everything, half-sure it was just busywork to keep her occupied. It beat being dumped into a pool of rapidly decomposing homunculi.
When Touko came back with some store-bought lunch boxes, humming some pop song she'd heard on the radio, Illya's suspicions were confirmed: this woman was no cook. They ate quickly and in silence, with Touko making no effort at starting a conversation and Illya shovelling the food down without bothering to expose it to her slowly failing taste buds.
There were two hours before the scheduled bed time, and Illya was beginning to hope the first day would go by smoothly.
"Now then..."
She'd hoped wrong.
Touko removed her glasses and lay them on the table. Suddenly the lazy smile she'd been displaying was gone. Her eyes were sharp, glaring holes into Illya, who would've been caught off guard if she hadn't been expecting something like it.
"Before we go further, I'll need to set up a diagnostic link between us. So, to the Workshop."
The workshop. The place Illya hadn't been shown.
They went through a pair of doors and down a long flight of stairs. It was cold and dark and smelt of formaldehyde. Illya didn't shiver, though. The snows of Germany had been much colder.
Touko pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling, switching on a number of bright lights. Now this was a proper workshop. Illya saw shelves upon shelves coating the walls, holding up books and jars of various substances. There were three desks with innumerable drawers and four doors branching off into different rooms. But the star of the show was a wide, cushioned operating table that took up the whole center of the vast room, surrounded by what Illya presumed was a state-of-the-art medical equipment, both mundane and magical.
"Hop on."
Illya did.
"Now take your clothes off."
Illya was halfway through unfastening her blouse before she realized what Touko was asking. Her face turning red, she folded her arms and glared at the older woman. "Why?" was her suspicious question.
Touko, in the middle of rummaging through a cupboard, answered without missing a beat: "Because they'll get in the way."
"The way of what!?"
"Contract. You do know how it works, don't you?"
Illya did. Or at least, she had some vague inclinations. Some of the books she'd glanced at, back in the old castle, had mentioned something about tantric rituals. She'd always been too embarassed to properly read through. But if Touko was thinking what she was thinking...
The magus was too busy to care about some protests. She fished out a purple liquid, measured a small amount into a beaker, replaced it, filled it two thirds of the way up with a light green liquid, topped it off with water, and mixed the whole thing until she got something resembling butchered apple juice, which she measured into two smaller test tubes, one of which she promptly downed. Upon turning to see a still fully clothed girl perched on her table, Touko frowned.
"Hey," she said. "I wasn't joking. This isn't even me experimenting; it's just preparation for the actual procedures. What happened to all of your confidence from earlier?"
"B-but I... I've never..."
Touko was going to continue further, but stopped before voicing anything. She saw her subject's brows furrowing, the muscles in her pale neck tightening. A little further and the contract would be null and void. This one couldn't be pushed into such things so easily.
"I understand," Touko said, softly now, changing her tactics. "Don't worry. I won't be doing anything strange to you. All you need to do is swallow this-." She brandished the remaining test tube. "-and kiss me. That's it."
"K-kiss!?"
"Yes." The Aozaki's lips curled up. "Kiss. Don't worry, we're both girls, so there's nothing strange about it, right? It's not like I'm that big 'brother' of yours."
Illya's cheeks were as red as her eyes. "I, um." Scrabbling for a counter-attack, she latched onto something else. "Th-then why do I need to be naked?"
"Both of us, actually." With that, Touko slipped off her jacket, hung it on a nearby rack, and began unbuttoning her shirt in a rather business-like fashion. "Physical intimacy makes the contract more effective, though for our purposes, just the top will be enough. I'll be examining you later, so think of it as a warm up. The fluid is a tracer formed of my prana. It'll make things easier."
One at a time, Illya's excuses evaporated, but something below the pit of her stomach seemed to ache at the mention of those words. A kiss. She'd never kissed anyone before. Not even the one she wanted to. But this was a small price to pay. Touko wasn't lying. She couldn't lie, thanks to the contract. So in the end, it was all up to her.
"...I've never kissed anyone before," Illya whispered. Her downcast eyes rose and immediately fixated on the difference in Touko's attire.
The older woman hadn't bothered to wear a bra. She stood, topless, arms crossed underneath her ample breasts, pushing them up without bothering to hide anything. Her eyes were focused on some far-off place and she toyed with a pencil with the fingers of one hand as if it was a cigarette. Illya had seen Sella and Leysritt naked before while bathing, and had never been perturbed then, but for some reason this scene made her feel like a voyeur taking advantage of someone else.
Then Touko blinked and her sharp eyes took in Illya's still fully-clothed state. She sighed. "Okay, fine," she said. "I'll do it myself. Raise your arms and close your eyes, little princess."
In lieu of saying something embarassing and child-like, Illya did as she was told, squeezing her eyes shut as Touko and her mammaries approached. The woman's thin finges reached down and tugged at the knot of the satin serving as Illya's makeshift tie. It wouldn't come apart.
"Hm. Only ever undid my own," Touko murmured. "In that case..."
The hands vanished. Her eyes still closed and arms shaking in the air, Illya heard the click of heels on concrete as Touko circled around the surgical bed until she was behind her. Two arms reached around Illya's torso, fingers lingering on her throat for a moment before finding the knot and starting to tug at it.
A dozen seconds later, Touko let out a grunt of frustration. The angle was bad. Illya was on the opposite edge of the bed. From this position, the magus couldn't put any strength into her grip. Making up her mind, she kicked off her shoes and hopped onto the bed behind Illya, who jumped at the impact and feel of a warm body so close to her own, though she didn't open her eyes.
"Don't worry." The words came as a puff of air to the back of Illya's neck as Touko smoothly slid into place behind her, enveloping the smaller girl in her warmth. "Everything's fine. Compared to what is to come, this is nothing. Try getting used to the feeling of my skin on yours." The words were clinical, yet not unkind. She was practically sitting in the older woman's lap now. Illya could feel two hard nubs poking through her dress shirt, and their slight movement as Touko dealt with the knot seemed to leave trails of electricity on the girl's still-sensitive skin. Even when one of the maids washed her back, they'd never gotten this close. The few times Shirou had reluctantly consented to letting her sleep in his futon to ward off nightmares, he'd never embraced her this way.
It was done. The purple ribbon flapped in the nonexistent breeze. Illya's shirt loosened, draped on her shoulders rather than fitting her form as it once had. Fingers gripped and pulled, and in moments Illya shivered as she truly felt the slight chill of the basement. With only a bra to keep her warm, she couldn't help but be grateful for the heat at her back.
"Your skin is beautiful," Touko's whisper was somewhere between appreciative and non-committal. Illya couldn't imagine if it was sarcasm, teasing, or an honest compliment, and she didn't want to. "Like porcelain. None of my creations could ever claim the same. Now..." Touko pressed on, before Illya could gather her thoughts. "Drink. It'll warm you up."
Glass was at her lips. Illya obediently opened her mouth and felt a slimy, and slightly sour liquid flowing onto her tongue. Her cheeks scrunched up at the taste. But the cool fingers of Touko's free hand traced lines down Illya's throat as the other tipped the test tube, encouraging the girl to hesitantly swallow until the tube was empty.
Touko hadn't been lying. A warmth sprang up within Illya the moment she closed her mouth, starting at her chest and expanding throughout her body. It wasn't the searing heat of foreign prana, but rather a more gentle sensation that sent shivers down her spine.
Nothing more was said. Gentle pressure along the side of her jaw told Illya to turn her head to the left. Touko's fingernails, smoothed out and shortened for practical work, slid against her cheek, leaving more trails of fire in their wake. The cold and heat became more extreme; the room's temperature dropped, and the warm body cradling her's became Illya's sole refuge. Without thinking she leaned back against the older woman's chest, part of her wishing she could be enveloped entirely.
But that wasn't to be. Illya's head was extended as far possible without discomfort, parallel to her shoulder. Another puff of breath invaded her space, this time washing over her scrunched-up face. It smelt wet and ashy. Against her better judgement, Illya opened her eyes.
Red. As if she was staring into a mirror, Illya gazed into the unblinking pair of red eyes opposite hers.
No, not red. Brown. A deep shade that may have once been blood but was now the colour of rich oak. Yet there was no bend to them, no mercy or compassion or comfort. Before she could go further, or think of releasing a spell to charm the woman, Touko's free palm descended, gently covering Illya's eyes.
"Don't look," she whispered, nearer and nearer with every moment. "I'll do all the work. Try to relax."
And then they were connected.
On multiple levels, it was like being struck by lightning. Illya recognized a few of the sensations in some corner of her mind, associating them with the transfer of consciousness and a contract being formed. Yet others, like the soft lips pressing against hers, were completely alien. She tried to pull back and found herself unable to; one hand covered her eyes and the other was woven into her hair, pressing against her skull, not overpowering but still insistent. She was completely at another's mercy.
A moan arose in the back of Illya's throat and never made it out. The movement of Touko against her was like slipping into bed and diving under the covers. Their bodies were flushed together; no longer did Illya feel those two bumps hitting her back, because they were hers now. She was being cradled and holding a small form to her chest, kissing and being kissed, excited and scared all at once.
That warm puff of air again. Touko's lips parted and something wet and slimy snaked through, poking at Illya's mouth. So shocked was she that she inadvertently copied the older magus, giving Touko's tongue a chance to dart inside and run across Illya's sensitive gums as their breath mingled. The girl could taste the cigarettes, and feel the boundary between their individual selves slowly disintegrate with every passing moment as the heat within grew and grew and...
Reflexively she bit down onto thin air, and suddenly it was over.
Touko leaned back and wiped away the hint of saliva dripping down her chin with the back of one hand. She released Illya, who wobbled without the sudden support and would've fallen over had she not braced herself with both of her arms. In moments the older magus was all business, pulling on her shirt and buttoning it back up without a care in the world.
"There," she said, matter-of-factly. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" Once her shirt was done, she grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and wiped her face down more thoroughly. Despite her demeanor, Illya couldn't help but notice the flush in the magus' cheeks and her heavy breathing, which perfectly matched Illya's own.
Yes, Illya hadn't felt this tired since summoning Berserker. There was no associated pain, but it was as if her world had dulled just a bit more, the fire within her dying down drastically as its source of energy backed away. At least the throbbing in her crotch had died down with it.
She said the first thing that came to mind: "You're horrible." It was followed by a burst of righteous indignation. Who was this woman to treat her so terribly? She was Illyasviel von Einzbern! Even in this state, she deserved much more respect than had been given to her!
Angrily, Illya gathered up her discarded shirt and pulled it on, not bothering with the tie that only Shirou could get just right. She stood on unexpectedly wobbly feet, keeping herself going with pure willpower, and stared straight into those merciless eyes with a fierce glare.
Touko just snickered. She reached forward with the tissue and dabbed it against Illya's lips and chin, wiping away some drool. "Sure I am. That's why I'm stopping it early today."
"Early?"
"Yeah." Touko nodded, cool and collected once more. The final article she slipped on was her glasses, which somehow magnified her dry smile into a wider one. "It'll take some hours for the contract to be finalized. There's no sense continuing until then. You were very brave."
"Don't patronize me!"
This outburst had something closer to the intended effect: it wiped that false smirk from the Aozaki's face. The redhead stared down at Illya, who shook with the effort of keeping up the illusion of authority.
"I'll continue treating you like a child," Touko said, carefully and clearly. "For as long as you keep acting like one. If you're supposed to be older than you look, I'm not seeing it. Now if you prefer, I can take every last piece of information I'm owed out of that body of yours like a proper magus, or we can keep this relationship pleasant for the both of us. So, Miss Einzbern, what will it be?"
There were many things Illya could have said. Most of them started or ended with 'vermillion'. But something held her back. The warmth was still there, in the pit of her stomach, and somehow she knew with certainty that it was the same for Aozaki Touko. The person she'd signed herself over to wasn't kind, but neither was she needlessly cruel.
"...I'm going to bed."
To punctuate the declaration, Illya spun in place, clumsily snatched up her lost ribbon, and marched upstairs.
Alone in her workshop, Touko shrugged and lit up a cigarette.
That night, Illya's dreams tasted of smoke.
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Originally Posted by GayBeamu
