Dark, tumultuous clouds loomed in the sky with the promise of rain, as Chizuru dashed across headquarters under the cover of a parasol. She could already feel moisture clinging to her hair as she climbed the steps of the lodge house with a basket against her hip.

"Good morning, Chizuru-chan." Senhime chimed as she slid the door open. Considering her student's disheveled appearance; the demon quickly relieved her of the basket.

Chizuru was grateful.

"Good morning." She gushed. Pulling the parasol shut, she leaned it against the door frame before swiping the dew from her bangs. "I've brought the blankets you requested, Osen-chan. I hope they are enough."

"Oh, thank you. We will need those today." The demon smiled as she set the basket to the side. With a critical glance at the ominous clouds, Senhime added, "This weather constitutes a poor day for chores, but an excellent day for training. Why don't you come inside?"

Walking into the lodge for the first time since the oni and kunoichi moved into the facility, Chizuru was wide-eyed as she took in the lavish room filled with all manner of curious furnishings. Glancing down at her tabi socks, she realized that she was standing on a large woven rug made from indigo and orange threads that rolled out into spiraling designs across the room. Large, white lanterns hung suspended from the floor by metal rods, and a collection of priceless cushions congregated around a glossy wooden kotatsu table in the center of the room. Senhime had even gone as far as to fill a bookshelf with countless scrolls and a globe.

"Do you like what we've done to the place?" Senhime ventured.

Chizuru's eyes soaked in the richness of the room and nodded. "It's quite lovely."

Lovely was a bit of an understatement, but she was too enthralled with the room to give a proper response. Was this really the same empty soldiers' barrack she had seen just a day ago? She saw more glamour in this one room than she had seen in her entire life.

With hands on her hips, Senhime gazed at the room triumphantly. "Amazing what a few decorations can do, huh? The Shinsengumi really ought to higher an interior designer to boost the morality around this place. It's as cheerful as a prison." She griped.

Flouncing into the parlor, she asked, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

Chizuru shook her head. "Um, no. Not yet."

"Good, come sit with me then. Kimigiku is making something special for you."

Senhime guided her toward the table and ushered her onto an orange cushion with teal cherry blossoms. Folding her legs underneath her, Chizuru clasped her hands as she watched the demon take her own seat from across the table.

"Now that we no longer have a captive audience, I thought we could discuss the nature of your training." Senhime began as she rested her arms on the table in a casual manner. She had abandoned her red armguards and swords, but still played the part of a dutiful soldier in her white hakama. "What do you know of demons, Chizuru-chan?"

Considering she was only familiar with their existence for a few brief days, Chizuru relied on her experience with the Rasetsu.

"They're incredibly strong, fast, and invulnerable to mortal wounds." She answered with furrowed brows. "They become intoxicated with the scent of blood and rush head-on into a fight."

"Hmm...and what of Kazama? What do you know of him?" The female demon inquired.

"He's different from a Rasetsu." Chizuru acknowledged as her fingers traced the fading bruise to her abdomen. "He appears and disappears like an apparition and moves with unfathomable speed."

"So the purebred mongrel resorts to his akuma no chikara, does he?" Senhime huffed with a solemn smirk. "What a hypocrite."

Chizuru was confused. "His what?"

"Akuma no chikara; it means 'demon power'." Senhime explained. "Kazama manipulates his power so that he can increase his strength and cast illusions. Although quite useful, it is considered wrong to use our chikara against humans. It's an unnecessary advantage."

Chizuru's confusion turned into bewilderment.

"Wait, so...demons can manipulate power?"

Her mentor blinked.

"Oh dear, it looks like there is a lot for us to cover." Senhime hummed in chagrin. Glancing at the bookshelf against the wall, she rose to her feet and began to peruse her literary collection.

"Normally, children of demon descent learn to manipulate their chikara through their parents, but you were robbed of that chance, Chizuru-chan." Gliding her fingers across the shelves, Senhime paused at the touch of an antique scroll wrapped in snake skin.

Pulling it delicately from the shelf, she returned to the table with it resting in her open palms.

"So we'll just start at the beginning."

Intrigued, Chizuru leaned forward as her mentor pulled the scroll from its bizarre packaging only to reveal a spool of decomposing parchment curled around a bone center. Senhime tugged the ancient thing open and laid it gingerly onto the table.

"This is one of the last surviving illustrations produced by my ancestor, Suzuka Gozen." She informed Chizuru with sparkling eyes. "It depicts the origin of our power."

Accustomed to reading her father's medical diagrams, Chizuru studied the illustration with experienced eyes. She saw the bones, tissues, organs, and blood vessels of a typical anatomy chart, but the figure on the parchment was assailed with cobalt-inked lines that travel in and out of the body in a complex arrangement. Tracing their path with her eyes instead of her fingers so as not to progress the document's disintegration, Chizuru discovered that they led to a plume of fire at the center of the body. Across the internal flame, someone had inked thinly scrawled characters that read: Akuma no chikara. Demon power.

"Our power rests here," Senhime pointed to the cobalt flame, "in the center most part of our being between heart and soul. The chikara is the medium in which we can manipulate our reality."

Placing a hand over her heart, Chizuru wondered if her power burned blue as well.

"I'm coming in." Kimigiku announced candidly through a set of interior doors.

The kunoichi strolled into the room with a tray balancing in her right hand. Chizuru noticed that she had abandoned her warrior's garb for black pants and a loosely-tied haori, yet she kept the samurai topknot. The blend of feminine and masculine attire was jarring, yet Chizuru thought it worked for Kimigiku's unusual personality.

"I brought the concoction, milady." She informed Senhime as she set the tea service a safe distance from the scroll. Curling atop a cream pillow, the kunoichi grinned at Chizuru.

"Good, then we are ready to begin."

Senhime withdrew from the table and began to pace lazily.

"In retrospect, a demon must learn to manipulate their akuma no chikara in order to use their other powers. This demon art is known as the First Gate." She instructed as she gestured to the golden seal at the corner of the illustration. "Without mastering the First Gate, you cannot go on to fulfill all Seven Gates of the Demon Arts. It must be done in sequence."

Seems simple enough. Chizuru thought.

"How do I master the First Gate?" She asked.

The demon pivoted on the balls of her feet and clasped her hands together in prayer.

"Through the art of meditation, of course." Senhime answered. "All oni must learn to control their power before they gain the right to use it. Meditation will hone your ability to extract your chikara which clears the premises of the First Gate."

"Okay. When do we start?" Chizuru posed with determination.

Kimigiku shook her head in disagreement.

"Now hold on, Senhime-sama, you make it sound too easy," accused the kunoichi. "Have you forgotten how difficult it was for you to clear the First Gate?"

"Of course, I remember. Six months of sitting in a room alone will forever be engraved on my mind. But as much as I want to give Chizuru a fair chance, the clock is ticking. Kazama is hot in pursuit, and the more quickly she masters the First Gate the more likely she will be able to clear the other Seven Gates." Senhime rambled with urgency.

"Then how do you suggest we speed up time?" Kimigiku questioned.

The demon crossed her arms in intuitive thought.

"Demons are essentially designed for survival. Place us in a strenuous environment and the likelihood of our chikara triggering to life increases exponentially." She speculated in a clinical tone. "In theory, if we worsen Chizuru's environmental conditions, she should be able to sync with her power ten times faster than the time it took for me to achieve the First Gate."

"In theory." Kimigiku echoed doubtfully.

Oni and kunoichi glanced at the subject in question, and found her in silent deliberation.

"Chizuru-chan, remember when I said that there would be instances in which you would have to follow my instructions without any objections?" Senhime queried.

Straightening her spine, Chizuru nodded. "Yes."

"This is one of those instances." Senhime warned.

The severity of her voice and Kimigiku's bleak expression frightened Chizuru.

"What does that mean, Osen-chan?" She asked.

Senhime knelt beside her at the table.

"To pass through the First Gate, you will have to overcome hunger, thirst, and solitude." She explained as she held up three fingers. "Thus, you will be banned from nourishment and companionship while you meditate."

Kimigiku stirred.

"The tea is a lemon and syrup remedy that is supposed to trick the body of its cravings. My family uses it for field work." Kimigiku revealed with a small frown. Piecing together how it would be beneficial to the lesson, she turned to Chizuru and advised, "Drink it. It will suppress the pangs of hunger."

Chizuru digested their words.

Realistically speaking, skipping one or two meals a day was not a cause for concern if it was a temporary situation. Unfortunate souls had been known to survive days, maybe even weeks, without a single crumb in sight. If what Senhime said was true- that demons were designed to survive- then Chizuru felt she could handle that aspect of the training just fine. What did trouble her; however, was the imminent task of solidifying her demon power.

For all she knew, Senhime could be asking her to capture smoke with her bare hands.

How does a person go about channeling something they've never touched, seen, or felt? She wondered frantically.

The reality of the situation diminished Chizuru's previous enthusiasm as she realized this would be a far more difficult challenge that she had bargained for. Senhime was well versed in the demon arts, but if it took her six months of meditation to awaken her power, then there was little hope for Chizuru.

Even so, she had to try.

Clearing her mind of any reservations, Chizuru flashed a determined smile.

"I am ready, Sensei."

The day was fading fast with deteriorating conditions, and still Chizuru had yet to be seen emerging from the lodge house. Her absence had been noticed during breakfast, lunch, and dinner but Senhime and Kimigiku informed the officers that she was undergoing intense training and could not be disturbed.

"She's fighting a personal battle." Senhime explained. "In order to do this, she must not enlist any help from the outside, including me."

"What sort of perverse training removes the teacher from the lesson?" Hijikata demanded of the female oni.

Senhime lifted her chin. "Chizuru is testing her mental fortitude. As for the rest, I cannot disclose with you. The demon arts are a strictly coveted as 'demons only' intelligence."

The oni-fukuchou radiated a dark enough aura to rival the torrential pour from outside. Sensing his anger, Kondou jumped into the conversation before Hijikata could induce further insult.

"I'm sure Yukimura's perseverance is unwavering." He stated graciously. "We will cease our concern and support her from the outside, right Toshi?"

Hijikata refused to conform to Kondou's peacekeeping routine. Dropping his chopsticks onto the tray, he excused himself from the room without words. No one stopped him.

"What a foul man." Senhime seethed with a scowl on her delicate face. "He has the emotional charm of a toadstool."

Kondou raked a hand through his hair in evident remorse.

"I apologize. He's currently under a lot of obligations that deprive him of his pleasantries." He implored. "He tends to get this way when he's worked himself to exhaustion."

The demon appeared unsympathetic.

"I will not condone negligence, Commander." She responded coolly. "He should know his own limits. I will not be treated as some conduit for his anger."

At the back of the room, Okita cleared his throat.

"Kondou-san, I'll speak with him." He assured the Head Commander.

With the weather forcing everyone inside, feelings of claustrophobia were running rampant, yet Okita appeared to be immune to the stifling tension in the room. Standing up from his favorite cushion, he stretched his back lazily.

"Leave Hijikata to me." He insisted.

Kondou was overwhelmed with old memories where the captain had uttered those same exact words. In the past, Hijikata was known to plummet into a dark anger that would make him unapproachable by the other men, but Okita had always been insane enough to appease him.

Confident in his aptitude for the task, Kondou heaved a sharp sigh of relief. "Thank you, Souji."

Upon exiting the conference room, Okita took a languid stroll around headquarters and discovered that the lieutenant was nowhere to be found.

Strange, he has to be here somewhere. He reasoned with himself.

When he checked Hijikata's apartment, his black haori still hung from the coat rack which indicated that he hadn't left headquarters. The only thing missing save for the commander himself was his katana.

Using this as his sole clue, Okita strained to listen for any sounds that didn't fall in unison with the tumbling rain. The sky was still a convoluted mess of lightning and thunder, but amid the chaos he could pinpoint the subtle whorl of metal slicing through air.

There you are. The captain grinned.

Setting off toward the farthest reaches of the complex where the training fields were kept, Okita rounded on a terrifying sight.

Immersed in the full elements, Hijikata stood poised for a killing strike. Body angled, feet apart, and katana held a limber in his right hand, he focused his attention on three wooden dummies stationed in a row across the training yard. Bits and pieces of the other twenty-seven figures were scattered in his wake like the remnants of a faux massacre.

A flash of lightning drew Okita's attention to a severed head.

He's furious, he mused as he rubbed his own neck gingerly.

Hijikata exuded an ethereal grace as he lifted his blade to rest perpendicular to his gaze. Breathing deeply through his mouth, he lunged toward the wooden imitations with nimble speed and disemboweled all three in one powerful strike. The dummies slumped from their posts and into the mud with a sickening wet noise.

"My my, I haven't seen you train like this since our old dojo days." Okita appraised with a low whistle.

The oni-fukuchou pulled back from his inanimate victims.

"What do you want, Souji?" He growled. "You should be in bed resting."

"It's nice to know that some people never change. You always get this way when something is troubling you: aggressive and vulgar."

Hijikata turned and glared at him. "I don't need your disparagement."

"But it's true." Okita argued. As proof of his statement, he grabbed the decapitated wooden head from the ground and held it up to the lieutenant with raised brows.

"Aggressive and vulgar."

Hijikata schooled his expression.

"Though you're referring to a chunk of wood, I do see your point." He quipped.

Okita dropped the head back to the ground with a resounding thunk and took a seat on the edge of the veranda.

"To further attest to your violent attitude, Chizuru now fears that you hate her." Okita mentioned in a casual manner. "The girl has lost her nerve to approach you, and I can't blame her. You're about as warm as a sheet of ice these days."

The commander darkened.

"She made her request, and I procured her teacher. What is there for me to hate?"

"Oh, I don't know." Okita baited in mocking deliberation. Crossing his legs, he rested his chin in the palm of his hand in idle thought. "Her eagerness to fight? Her stubbornness to obey orders? Her lack of faith? Seems there are plenty of reasons for you to be upset with her."

The captain watched for a reaction, but Hijikata slipped into an indecipherable mask, suppressing any emotions from seeping into his hollow eyes.

"Well, I am not." He lied composedly. "So you can remove those delusions from your head."

He sheathed his katana and looped it through the sash of his hakama. He was still breathless from the exertion of extricating thirty wooden mannequins, but at least their false demise had satisfied his adamant desire to kill. Anger was a heavy emotion to carry and he had been burdened with it for several days.

Wanting seclusion away from the meddling captain, he turned to leave.

"Hijikata-san." Okita bellowed as he pushed away from the terrace. "Chizuru confessed to Harada that she thinks you hate her because she's a demon."

Now that gave the lieutenant reason to pause.

"What?"

"Your temper is torturing her." Okita scolded disapprovingly. "Do everyone else a favor and reconcile with the girl."

Hijikata considered the request preposterous.

How was Chizuru's self-inflicted pain his fault? It was the girl's decision to learn the demon arts. It was by her request that he arranged for the demon and kunoichi to live within headquarters. It was her imprudence that misled her into wanting to join him on the battle field. The world was not a black-and-white place in which poorly made decisions were so readily forgiven. He would not give her false assurances for something he did not accept.

Hijikata regarded his old friend with a scathing repertoire of insults burning the tip of his tongue, but held silent as the captain fixed him with a withering look.

"Go to her, Hijikata-san." Okita urged. "She needs you."

With no room to further his polemic, Hijikata's anger dissolved into a sort of guilt as he felt the true extend of his mental exhaustion.

"Get some rest, Souji." He sighed despondently, "I've no wooden imitations to destroy for your sake."

Aware of his victory, Okita's classic fox grin spread across his face as he saluted his superior. "I'll take that as my dismissal then. Good night, Commander."

A gust of wind wrapped itself around the lieutenant as he watched darkness creep over the compound. The soldiers would be retiring to their barracks soon and the Rasetsu unit would resume patrol during the nocturnal hours.

Glancing toward the south central building, Hijikata frowned.

A single room still flickered with light.

Certain that Okita was out of earshot, he murmured, "I will deal with the girl."

Life incarcerated behind walls was a sort of morose torture that Chizuru couldn't impose on her worst enemy. After a day of total isolation, the word 'forsaken' took on a whole new meaning as she became smothered by the walls of her pseudo-prison.

Her failure was imminent.

Eighteen hours had passed and no matter what she tried, she still could not bring her demon power to life.

"I'll never clear the First Gate." She sniffed miserably.

Sprawling across the tatami floor in despair, she let the sound of rain and thunder wash over her as she closed her eyes. Today had ended in failure, and with a severely weakened fortitude, Chizuru knew she couldn't last much longer. Contemplating her next feasible course of action, she knew her body needed sustenance, but the floor felt so inviting. Perhaps if she just rested for a couple minutes...

"What are you doing?" A familiar voice drawled.

Unfurling her heavy eyelids, Chizuru gazed into the striking face of the Demon Vice-commander and watched as his dark, inquisitive eyes examined her vulnerable display in fascination.

"H-Hijikata-san!" She shrieked.

Overcome with fear, she rolled onto her stomach and lurched to her feet. Her body reeled from the sudden exertion; though, and she found herself momentarily blinded.

Seeing her stagger, Hijikata slipped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

"Are you alright?" He asked with furrowed brows.

Chizuru couldn't really say. Pressed up against his body, she could smell the rain intermingled with his scent, and discovered it to be a pleasant fragrance. He was not dressed in his customary uniform, but the black haori and gray hakama he wore for official meetings. Strands of hair clung to his skin from the moisture, and all she could think was how devastating he looked wind-swept and rugged.

Heart lodged into her throat, she fought against her vertigo.

"Yes, just a bit dizzy." She faltered submissively. "I was meditating."

"Meditation and rest are not the same thing, Chizuru." He admonished. Her body felt abnormally fragile in his arms and he could sense her trembling.

"I know, I'm sorry. I've been practicing all day but I'm not very good at it." She apologized.

Lingering in his embrace quickly became awkward as she recalled their last argument, and how they barely spared a word for each other since then. It was almost surreal to be having a conversation with him now, at this moment, when she'd much rather be wallowing in self-pity. But the Vice-commander operated by a predetermined agenda which meant his appearance was by no means a coincidence. He was there for a reason.

Recoiling until there was a comfortable distance between them, Chizuru bit her lip as she realized she was nearly on the other side of the room.

The commander slackened his features.

"Is this part of your training?" He coaxed with a brief glance at the room.

Smoothing her collar, Chizuru nodded. "Yes."

"It is nearly midnight. Where is Senhime-san?"

"Osen-chan dismissed my lesson a little while ago." She replied with a fleeting look.

Hijikata took a deliberate step forward. "Then why are you still here?"

"I wanted to show her my progress in the morning," She stammered, "so I decided to practice a bit longer."

Troublesome girl, Hijikata reproved in silent irritation.

Clearly Chizuru had spent way too much time in his company if she was indulging in some of his bad habits. The dark circles under her eyes and the gaunt expression on her face served as blatant reminders of his negative effect on her. Unaware of her receptive personality until now, Hijikata wished he could have demonstrated better work ethic.

Filled with the urge to impose some common sense in the girl, he remembered that he had to be...gentle. Hijikata and gentle were not synonymous, but for her sake, he would try.

Approaching her until there was barely a foot between them, he planted a hand on her delicate shoulder and forced her to sit.

"Chizuru, a student needs their rest." He chastised as he settled himself on the floor before her, "Reflection is just as important as the training."

She had missed the tray he held in his other hand, and grew agitated as he revealed a meager spread of jasmine rice, grilled salmon and vegetables smothered in rich hoison sauce. The savory vapors wafted under her nose eliciting a violent growl from her stomach.

Hijikata smirked.

"Here, have something to eat." He urged as he pushed it toward her.

Chizuru hesitated over the tray of divine nourishment. "But I'm not suppose-"

"Eat." He repeated as he forced the bowl of rice into her hands. "You have done enough for today."

Chizuru's mouth watered.

"Y-yes, Hijikata-san."

She took small bites, chewing slowly as proper etiquette would mandate, and swallowing forcefully due to a parched throat. It was unnerving to have Hijikata watching her every move, but hunger quickly conquered her embarrassment, and she found herself devouring the fish and vegetables with ravenous delight. In a manner of minutes, the dishes were cleared and she found herself licking traces of the hoison sauce from her lips.

Hunger finally satiated, Chizuru sighed.

"You seem disappointed." Hijikata observed with crossed arms.

He uttered the sentence as a question rather than a statement, leaving Chizuru room for an explanation. Trapped in his unrelenting stare, she wracked her brain for the right words to convey her dilemma.

"Well, I was just thinking that...I've caused you a lot of trouble, Hijikata-san." She fussed as she stacked the dishes on the tray and pushed it aside. "When I agreed to learn the demon arts, it was my intention to become stronger for the Shinsengumi. But I'm failing you."

Hijikata's mouth thinned into a frown.

"Chizuru, my protection does not come at a price. I'm not a feudal lord." He rebuked with a slight tilt of the head. The motion caused his bangs to shift against his face, framing his perfect square jaw.

"Tell me, how is it that you are failing me?"

Chizuru toyed with her own hair, something she used to do as a child when she knew she had done something wrong. Keeping her eyes trained to the floor, she replied, "Well, I've defied your orders and caused you great anger."

Her words reinforced the piercing mallet already driving against his skull.

Aggrieved to have ever taken on the dauntless task of protecting a young girl, Hijikata swallowed his pride and ceased her ministrations. Catching her hand, he held it gently by the wrist, tugging her slightly forward to that she was forced to meet his gaze.

"Can you blame me, Chizuru?" He beseeched in confidence. Softly, he confessed, "It's only natural for a commanding officer to become restless when his charge takes matters into her own hands."

Kami, his eyes were like velvet, she thought frantically. So caught up in her emotional stress for the past few days, she had forgotten what it was like to be enraptured by his very presence. The smell of rain still rolled off of him in waves, and her skin tingled where he held her wrist. No doubt, he could feel her hyperactive pulse.

Was it the isolation that gave her the sudden fondness to bury herself into his embrace? To thread her fingers through his tousled hair? To pine for his proud smile?

To see the Vice-commander so...unguarded, it made her nearly delirious.

"I am sorry, Hijikata-san." She pleaded with a bow so low it made her neck pop.

Released from his grasp, Chizuru felt him stir and watched as he strode over to the sliding doors and pried them wide open. Water poured out from the eaves creating a sparkling curtain of silver as the moonlight began to peek through the clouds. Stepping out onto the terrace, he beckoned her to him.

"Shall I show you how to meditate?" He offered with a quirked brow.

Chizuru glowed. "Will you?"

They reclined on the veranda, arms nearly touching as they sat in companionable proximity. She could feel the warmth of his body so close to hers and relished the safety of his nearness.

When Hijikata spoke, his voice lulled her into a trance.

"The trick to meditation is to remove the senses one by one." He whispered. "First, you close your eyes."

Her eyes closed of their own accord.

"As your outer world begins to dissolve, let your body grow still until you lose feeling in your toes." He hummed. "By that point, your breathing begins to slow as if you are sleeping. Fill your lungs with air and as you begin to exhale, fade your heart beat into the background."

His words were a lullaby that pulled her from consciousness; her thoughts quickly became as transient as the flecks of moonlight in the rain.

"Now that you've removed yourself from your senses, start to travel through the darkness ahead and leave your thoughts behind. Keep walking into the void."

Chizuru floated into the dark emptiness and noticed Hijikata's voice fading into oblivion. The pleasing sound was sorely missed, but just as she began to falter, suspended in that shadowed dimension, something hovered in the distance drawing her forward. Something deeper. Much deeper. It sang through the very fibers of her being and made the bones of her body rattle with power: a plume of pure cobalt fire.

I've found it! My power. Chizuru rejoiced with phantom tears. The cool fire rolled over her skin and blinded her with brilliant light as if it craved her presence every bit as much as she craved it. Senhime never mentioned how intensely wonderful it was to become one with her power. How much it felt like sunlight after years of darkness. A drink of water after walking through a lake of sand. A gasp of fresh air after being trapped in smoke.

It was so perfect and encompassing of a moment, she wanted to cry.

Her chikara was beautiful.

A warm body slumped against Hijikata breaking him of his lecture. Opening his eyes, he found Chizuru's cheek pressed against his shoulder and her posture completely flaccid with sleep. Long lashes casted shadows across her face giving her the proverbial appearance of a sleeping beauty. Lucky for her, she was in the company of the Demon Vice-commander, and not some lesser sort that would take advantage of her barefaced naivety.

Still, he was a man. He was not ignorant to the loveliness of his young ward. Soaking in the sight of her, he noticed the moonlight gave her face a pearly luster and shined against the exposed plane of her neck. Her pink lips were parted as she breathed softly, and if he inclined his head ever so slightly he could smell the floral scent of her hair.

Gods, he was in trouble. What sort of cruel joke had fate played at his expense? The great Demon Vice-commander, savage wolf among men, spellbound by the likes of the young and beautiful Chizuru.

Exercising tremendous restraint, he gathered her in his arms.

"Even without your powers, you are still dangerous." He whispered.