The anomaly in the Kamen Rider Universe

Miyuki's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions as she processed the situation. The realization that she was, by the customs of her people, essentially engaged to a human was a bitter pill to swallow.

Her kind had always viewed humans as monsters—beings who had used her people's children as mere ice cubes to cool their drinks, who had exploited and oppressed them without a second thought. And now, she was bound to one of them, someone she despised by nature.

Yet, Aaron was different. She loathed to admit it, but he was a skilled fighter, far more capable than she was.

The realization cut deep into her pride, and it angered her that he had bested her, even if she would never tell him that.

He was tactical, always thinking several steps ahead, and being around him had forced her to grow stronger, faster than she ever could have on her own.

But he was still human. That fact gnawed at her, a constant reminder of the pain and suffering his kind had inflicted on hers.

The very idea of being with him repulsed her, yet the traditions of her people were clear. He fits the criteria: a partner had to be able to live independently, hunt proficiently, and protect his own. Aaron ticked all those boxes.

The irony of it all twisted in her gut. She was obliged to marry the very thing she despised most, and it was tearing her apart inside. How could she reconcile these conflicting feelings?

How could she ever accept that her fate was now tied to a human? The more she thought about it, the more it felt like a cruel joke—one that fate was playing at her expense. And yet, she knew she had little choice but to accept it.

Miyuki stared at Aaron's sleeping form, the steady rise and fall of his chest almost mocking her inner turmoil. The rage simmering inside her bubbled to the surface, and before she knew it, an icicle had formed in her hand, its sharp tip glinting ominously in the dim light. She placed it near his neck, the coldness of the ice contrasting with the warmth of his skin.

She could kill him right here, end this madness before it went any further. Just one quick thrust and it would all be over. Her mind raced with the possibilities.

Her traditions didn't have to apply to a human, did they? She could murder him in cold blood, and no one from her race would blame her.

They'd probably commend her for ridding the world of one more human.

Her hand trembled slightly as she weighed her options. It would be so easy...But before she could make her decision, Aaron's instincts kicked in.

Even in his sleep, his reflexes were sharp. He slapped her hand away with surprising force, the icicle shattering into harmless shards.

In a fluid motion, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, trapping her against him in a way that left her unable to use her hands.

Miyuki's eyes widened as she found herself pressed against him, her body pinned awkwardly against his. The warmth of his skin seeped through her clothes, and she could feel his steady heartbeat against her chest.

The situation was maddening. Here she was, the princess of her people, reduced to this humiliating position by a human of all things. She could practically hear the sarcasm in her own mind: *Wasn't this just fucking fantastic?*

Aaron sighed deeply, sinking further into the golden liquid of the bath. The warmth of the tub should have been comforting, but the icicles embedded in his chest told a different story. His body was still cold from Miyuki's earlier attack. The princess was becoming more of a hassle than she was worth, and the thought of dealing with her antics was starting to wear on him.

He stared up at the ceiling, trying to relax, but the sudden blare of the alarm shattered any chance of peace. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and relentless, pulling him out of his brief respite. He groaned, tilting his head back as he reluctantly opened his eyes to face the inevitable.

The camera feed in front of him flickered to life, showing scenes of chaos and destruction. Civilians were fleeing in terror as a swarm of Gifterian descended upon them. The sheer number of them—15,000 strong—was overwhelming.

"Fucking hell..." Aaron muttered under his breath. His eyes narrowed as he analyzed the situation. Normally, the Weekend base could handle a small group of Gifterian without his intervention. But this? This was on another level entirely.

He splashed the water in frustration, droplets flying as he pushed himself up from the tub. The warmth of the bath did little to prepare him for the cold reality that awaited outside.

"Damn it, can't even enjoy a bath in peace," he grumbled.

Aaron chuckled to himself, the sarcasm dripping from his voice as he muttered, "Heh, maybe if they could fly..."

But as he said those words, his eyes caught sight of something on the monitor that made his smirk falter. A few hundred Gifterian with wings.

"Ah, wasn't this just lovely," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in exasperation. Today was supposed to be his day off, a rare break from the constant chaos. He could just stay here, relax, and let someone else handle it—right?

He told himself that as the screams of the dying echoed from the monitor, the cries of panic filled the air. The civilians were being torn apart, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Aaron sat there, his expression unreadable as the scenes played out before him. He could ignore it. He could pretend this wasn't his problem. But deep down, he knew the truth. The second he appeared on the battlefield, those starved pussies would rush at him like he was some sort of exotic treat. Something to ride, devour, and tear apart.

They would rush at him like a vape addict who had lost their vape for a day, like a cocaine addict finding cocaine.

Jeez, he felt like he was a black guy at a white girl party.

And yes, this was exactly how he decided to describe those demons. Deal with it.

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, slumping his shoulders as he resigned himself to the inevitable. "Fine, fine... I guess I'll go play with some flying pussy. Can't say I was looking forward to it, but here we are."

He stood up, stretching as if he were getting ready for a casual jog instead of a battle to the death. His muscles protested slightly, still recovering from the earlier beatdown session with Genta, but Aaron knew there was no avoiding this. Not if he wanted to keep his peace of mind—or what was left of it.

"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered to himself, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. Time to get back to work, whether he liked it or not.

"Let's see how many pussies I can satisfy today."

"I can probably get a few hundred of them wet..."

..

..

..

He saw nothing wrong with the way he said things.