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It was sudden when it started. In one moment both of them were fighting, screaming insults at each other without caring about the sting it would let — it felt better, actually, if the wound became open; if the blood seeped out harshly from the skin and left the other hurting, invisible for everyone but themselves — with CHARMs at the other’s neck, ready to strike the last blow. In the next, their lips were touching, aggressively and without any ounce of love. Weapons were on the ground while hands were grabbing at clothes, fingers pressing bruises on the skin that wasn't hidden by it, fighting for dominance.
It shouldn't be easy to go from violence to sex; except it was and somehow neither of them were surprised by it. Since Chihiro was back, there was a tension between them that nobody was blind to — not even Hanna, and that was saying something. Sometimes that girl only saw or acknowledged what she wanted to, being satisfied to ignore or to not know whatever it was going on between the other members of Sangrith. Perhaps this time was different, since it involved her dear Schultzangel, and Misaka wouldn't be happy to know that both Chihiro and Touka were still fighting behind her back.
Not that they cared enough to stop. If the other could just drop dead, maybe, it would help. The problem here is that both she and that filthy vixen were too stubborn to leave Misaka alone. Both of them wanted to be beside her, to be the only one allowed to walk alongside her step by step, into the direction of the future Kondo is paving to. So what if she has two hands? All of her ten fingers she had should only tenderly hold Chihiro’s face, who would be under the soft look in her brown irises, that would be letting all the love and care her guiding light has for her show in that gaze.
And she knows that Hasebe has the same thoughts about it. If she didn't, they wouldn't find themselves, time and time again, finishing a training fight in sex. As much as that stupid vixen wants to one-up her, Chihiro knows she isn't strong enough to actually do it. It shows on the way she always hesitate to do any damage on her — not because she cared about Yamaguchi, no, she was still called a monster enough times to know the truth, but because she lacked any trust in her own skill —, on the way she slows down every time an insult cut very close to her heart, festering on insecurities that already exists in her mind. It shows in the way she, most of the time, stays in the defensive when Chihiro’s get on the offensive, always glancing at the door as if waiting for someone to see the villain attacking the innocent victim before picking up speed after realizing nobody was going to come in her rescue — a downturn of lips always exposed on her face, her frustration very bittersweetly satisfying in evidence.
It shows on the way she always got submissive when the sex started, following orders with little struggle and a brat-like attitude. Eager to please, not Chihiro per se, but still wanting the satisfaction of knowing she can do something for someone that will make her useful for once. It deeply annoys her that the damn vixen is actually good with her tongue, somehow knowing exactly where to lap in her cunt to make the thrill of pleasure travel through her whole body, making her head a little fuzzy and her orgasm closer.
It’s worse, though, when her mind whispers to her that this little bitch definitely did the same thing to her Misaka. That she had all the time in the world to get her way with the other, feigning they would be discovering intimacy together — which would be a lie, since Misaka isn't a virgin, wasn't even when Chihiro had her first time with her — all the while she would know a shit ton of things to pleasure her and try to ensnare the other to herself.
Gripping the hair in her fingers with more strength than it was necessary, she keeps Hasebe’s head in place, ignoring the way her eyes glisten with tears accumulating there, and starts to grind her hips in a slow motion. Riding the other’s face is enough to keep her thoughts into the nice fuzzy feeling in her body instead of thinking about all the time she lost. It's easier to ignore that she died and was abandoned by the others in the past, left behind in her grave to stay there and be fixed in a pedestal in a manner that only memories and ideals could ever be — while her body was forced to go forward, to follow them even when she couldn't remember shit and was more of a Huge than a Lily.
It's so much simpler to let the bitter feelings deep inside her heart boil away in her chest while her body heats up with arousal, waves of tingling pleasure traveling up her skin while she feels slick sliding down herself and into the warm tongue lapping at her pussy. It's in these moments of trying to bury all the complicated emotions that exist inside that Chihiro can't deny that, sadly, she is still breathing.
A slow, teasing pressure on her clit is enough to cease all her thoughts, frustrated tears running down on her cheeks while she tastes salt on her lips. The tension in her body is growing more pronounced, little trembles into her thighs making it harder for her to roll her hips; her hold in the other’s hair is still strong, though, not giving an ounce of the strength she has on it. Both of them moan for different reasons — Hasebe is because of the pain in her head and Chihiro for being so close to orgasm. And by the way she felt the smirk in her pussy, the vixen also knows it too. Fuck.
Pressing her lips in annoyance, she grounds down on the other’s face — one of her hands go behind herself, sliding into the half-opened uniform so she can get a hold of one of the breasts, squeezing it hard and causing the other under Yamaguchi to jolt in surprise. A strangled sound is soon heard, the (sadly) green eyes staring at her being hidden besides the eyelids by the shock of the sudden action. The tears that were accumulated there fall down, making a sharp grin tug at her mouth.
It doesn't take long for Hasebe to go back to her work of lapping at her, sending a new tingling of pleasure from her cunt to her head. Chihiro closes down her thighs into the other’s face, slowly grinding on her tongue — the tension is getting more intense, consuming everything inside her, from her depressing thoughts to the existential questions to the hate she feels for the filthy vixen; someone so similar to herself and at the same time, so different.
Her orgasm explodes inside her body, making her feel so close to sweet death during the moment she can’t be anything more than the feeling of euphoria. There's an empty satisfaction in releasing part of the complicated feeling she had into her cum, not that Chihiro cares. The only thing she wants is this weird pause where everything makes sense because nothing matters besides this emotion she is feeling. Is short lived, yes, however it's what is helping her at the moment to not think.
After all, she is alive. And, once more, Chihiro had been left behind by the others that she considered family. Except that, this time, they didn't want her to follow after them — and that is something that Yamaguchi doesn't think she will ever make peace with.