Because you're a heretical creature -- you are something that should not be, and a stain on the perfection that is Heaven.
The perfect ones will take other liberties with you as well; liberties they'd never take with a real person. They don't fear doing so, because when you touch the impure, all you get is dirt on your fingers. It can and will be rinsed off with the clean, scented waters of Heaven, and so everything will be as it was. Nothing happened, because the sin was dissolved and washed away. That's how it works.
Unless you happen to be impure. If you are, then there isn't water enough in all of the Heavens to wash away your filth. You lose the moment you're born, and with luck you will know of nothing else. If you're unlucky, you'll get a taste of forbidden fruit, and you will cling to it like a drowning man, and it will be taken from you, and you will be left floating in empty waters, chained to a quay you can never climb onto.
When you are a walking, talking heresy, they don't expect much from you. All they want is for you to keep quiet and out of the way so that they won't have to lay their eyes upon you. What you do then, is get very familiar with the dark and secluded passages in the palaces of Heaven, wise to the paths and walkways that are out of sight and from which you can observe and listen.
Imagine then, that you go about your skulking, and that one day you discover someone who isn't a viper hiding in the foliage of courtesy. You hear him before you ever lay eyes upon him, and you can't help but wonder if there are more creatures such as yourself around, given the words and the tone of voice he uses as he makes his displeasure with someone or several someones heard. So you slink closer, from one shadow to the next, and then you see him walking down the gallery.
He strides, and he is all rigid, aristocratic contempt and ice-cold glare and ethereal beauty dressed up in white and purple silk. You find yourself staring like a child at this apparition, wondering how it can shine so bright within your mind.
Of course you have to find out more, and so you stalk him. What else can you do?
Soon, you discover his name; Konzen Douji. You learn that he is the nephew of the Merciful Goddess, the most notorious entity in all of Heaven about whom there are more rumours than there are about even you; only, se is a real person. Someone who matters.
Konzen Douji matters too, because he is a top bureaucrat who keeps himself to himself when he isn't dealing with various paper-moving lackeys. They whisper about him too, of course. Konzen the frosty, bitter lapdog of the Goddess; Konzen, who lives on his lonely little cloud of dust and paper; Konzen, who affiliates himself with no one and no thing; Konzen the prude; Konzen the frigid maiden; Konzen the plaything of Kanzeon Bosatsu...
Konzen Douji.
He becomes your need. He becomes the light that will guide you from the shadows. He becomes the shining perfection that will burn away all your darkness, all your wrongs, all your wants and all your impurities. Yet you cannot reach him, for you stand in Heaven's shadow and he walks in Heaven's light.
However you do have one advantage, twisted as it is. You are a heresy, and you are more or less expected to act like a freak. You commit a sin merely by living, and so you may as well use the camouflage of your flaws to reach your goal. Right? Homura has been sulking and loitering around ever since they reincarnated Rinrei, they all know it. So what's another rumour to you?
Nothing, that's what.
Watching Konzen through his windows as he works is merely a matter of finding the right tree. Watching Konzen as he takes his solitary walks is merely a matter of finding the right shadows. Watching Konzen as he sleeps is merely a matter of...
No.
There is nothing "merely" about watching Konzen sleep.
Watching Konzen as he sleeps is a sacred act that you can only perform in silence. Even in the dark you can see his soft glow, and when you light your little candle, the glow becomes richer and fuller.
You cannot stay across the room for long. Keeping the chain from making a noise is second nature by now, but here in the silence of Konzen's bedroom, it becomes a source of anxiety again.
It takes three nights, and on the fourth you're standing right next to his bed. You know you're pushing the limits, and that if he wakes up to see you standing there, you will be in serious trouble. You just can't bring yourself to care about that, because within your reach is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen. It will be worth it. Surely it will be worth it.
If you could just touch him. All you have to do, is reach out and brush your fingers over his hair. You just have to make sure you have full control over that chain, and to not touch his skin. It's so pale, like the lightest golden mother-of-pearl. Who wouldn't want to touch skin like that? So smooth, so fresh--
--so perfect and so pure.
There's a faint scent of apple blossoms on him, probably in his hair. If you sit down carefully on his bed and lean over, you can find out. If you put your face down next to his and breathe, you can smell the fragrance of sleeping Konzen. He smells of apples and soap and clean skies. Konzen smells like you want to be.
Just one touch. His golden hair is soft and cool under your fingers, so you have to touch it again. Purity like you've never seen it, and he's right here on the bed next to you, asleep. If you hold your hand in front of his face, a little distance away, you can feel his quiet breath upon it.
Warm breath upon your hand.
When he stirs a little, you sit like a statue sans breath and motion. When he continues to fret and shift in his sleep, you can't help but want to calm him. How can anyone not want to soothe him?
How can you not want to soothe yourself by his presence?
So you lean over to reduce the distance between your face and his to almost naught, and you reach out and you touch his skin. Because how could you not? He is the brightest candle flame, and you are the darkest moth. It is the way of nature that you are drawn closer and closer to this exceptional creature, so close that your lips brush against his and your breath meets his breath and your hand touches smooth, perfect skin which is warm and then...
Konzen awakens with a start, no longer at peace. Rigid and angry, he demands to know just who the fuck you are and what the fuck you're doing in his room -- in his bed! Ice cold fury glares at you through purple eyes, and you find yourself asking what he thinks you're doing.
You draw back a little when he doesn't answer, and then he sits up and orders you to get the hell out of his chambers. But you just can't, because it's all dark outside, and you don't want to face it. You've had darkness to last you several mortal lifetimes, so you stay and your eyes don't leave him for a single moment.
You try to explain to him how you are Homura the itan, impure, and all you want is to be near him, because he is like the Sun. Pure Konzen, clean Konzen -- can he strip away your sins?
He scoffs coldly and hisses another demand that you leave, right this fucking instant. But how can you leave the light, when the darkness is so empty? How can you go away, when all that you desire is right here in front of you?
All you have to do, is reach out and touch.
And that is what you do. Your hands on Konzen's arms. Your mouth on Konzen's mouth, taking from his lips the angry refusal he'll never get to say again. He is stiff and tense, unable to fight you because Konzen doesn't know how. Konzen is innocent and unsullied, he doesn't know about the dirt and the filth and the imperfection and the wrong and the sweaty pain in the darkness.
If you can just be with him, perhaps you too can know brightness and daylight and purity. Konzen is warm to your touch, and fragile. Hot hands upon warm skin, fragile skin that you can't bruise and you can't tear. Starving lips of shadow and sin, searching for light and salvation.
Konzen tastes like water. Clear, pure water.
When you have your hands exploring Konzen's body and your lips exploring Konzen's mouth, you know you're right. He doesn't respond as you remove his night shirt and let it fall to the floor by the bed. Nor does he respond in any way to your kisses, but his attempts to draw back are laughable. Konzen doesn't know how to respond, for he holds himself aloof and apart from lesser creatures and lesser urges and lesser life. He has no concept of intimacy.
Konzen is a thin, wiry kami trying not to writhe under your touch.
Your hands can feel the notches along his spine, your tongue can trace his collarbones from side to side, and into the little dip in the middle. It's compellingly easy to taste your way up from there, along his exposed throat back to those reluctant, confused lips. Konzen's breathing is no longer calm and measured, and when one of your questing hands slides down his abdomen and search the below, you find him already rising to receive your caress.
Konzen chokes and tries to hold his breath.
That sort of thing isn't healthy, so you stroke him to force his breath back to work, and so notice that his genitals at least, aren't merely warm. Konzen's member matches the heat of your hand nicely, and after a few confident strokes, he is aching for more no matter how hard he clings to his detachment.
Now you have him in your possession. He knows now what you're doing, but only on an intellectual level. How can you make him understand? You can touch him again and again, feel him try desperately to repress shiver after building shiver as you slowly put your forehead to his stomach and slide upward, tongue leaving a moist trace on pale moonlight skin.
Konzen tastes like water. It's no longer clear and pure; it carries a hint of salt.
If you slide your leg between his his and press your thigh carefully up, he struggles to stop his hips from bucking. If you release the pressure and then go at it again, he bites back a throaty whimper. If you lick his nipples insistently, making your tongue as hard as you can, he presses his eyes shut and realizes that his lungs aren't big enough for all the air he needs now. You cover him with yourself, your lips join with his; giving heat, exploring the soft, moist mouth, demanding a response and getting it, while his hands grabs at the sheets so hard, so hard. And he will not open his eyes.
Close to Konzen, but not close enough. You need to be with him, you need to be closer to him than anyone has ever been before, you need ... you must be surrounded by his light.
It takes but a moment to pull down his bottoms and discard them over the edge of the bed.
Konzen still clutches at the sheets, refusing to look at you as you remove your own clothes and kneel over him. Breathtaking beauty under your gaze, trembling with alien desire upon rumpled sheets. With desperately denied need like that, it is all you can do to stop yourself from giving into yours. You need absolution, he needs to be rid of the unclean presence that is you. How can he not understand that these two goals can only be reached together?
Konzen Douji is an offspring of the Lotus Buddha family, and theirs is the transforming of base urges of the flesh into illuminated purity of the soul. Perhaps if you stimulate his genital chakra more, he will come to understand? Besides, there is the curiosity about what Konzen-the-man tastes like...
Oh, how can someone emit such heady, yet clean odours from his sex? It makes your mind blur, and the urge to move closer to the edge of light surges and meets your desire to taste him head-on. Choked protests escape Konzen as you drag your tongue up from the base of his erection and around the top; once, twice, three times.
Salt. Clean. Hot. Man. Pure.
So close, so close! He is all you've ever wanted, he's all you'll ever see. Hear. Feel. Taste. Smell. The moth and the candle are lost; now there is only shadow and light and the need for one to be banished by the other. He will provide you with the cleansing your soul yearns for, but you will have to show him how. You have to show him how to let go so that he can release the radiance he so unwittingly keeps chained.
Strangled moans whisper past Konzen's lips, but you can hardly hear them because your mind is clouded by the hardness your mouth works up and down. Unwilling hips pushes it at you, and who are you to refuse what is offered?
Now he wriggles on the sheets, and you pull back to watch him struggle. Perfection is all you can see, and marring such complete beauty doesn't bear thinking of. You will have to be careful when you join with him, because you can't leave marks. A well-educated guess suggests that Konzen doesn't have anything in his quarters that will ease your entrance. Except what the kami himself can provide, of course. It will just have to suffice, because you cannot turn away from him now.
It doesn't take much work before he complies, and you nearly gag on the sudden thrust and ejaculation into your mouth. Don't swallow, don't swallow, don't swallow. This is all that will keep you from damaging him, so gather it and keep it until he collapses back on the sheets like a glistening marble ragdoll.
Now that Konzen is weak and relaxed beneath you, it is an easy task to arrange his legs just so and slide a wet finger up his opening. He retains just enough energy to flinch, but not enough to fight you. Still innocent, he just doesn't know what to do and so he is yours to take and yours to extract your salvation from. It is so close now that you can reach out and grab it, but you must prepare him first. You must be careful, add more moisture and insert another finger; slowly and as deep as you get.
He tries to breath regularly, but he fails. On the edge between pleasure and pain, you take the rest of his semen and coat yourself with it. You're so close now that vision grows hazy, and the burning demand in your groin is impossible to restrain any more.
Another adjustment of his legs and hips, and you're both ready to embark on the final stage of the journey. Entering him nearly consumes your mind with searing flame, and you're not really aware of the shocked whimpers he fails to hold back. His pained frown is only a distant vision that has nothing to do with you any more.
Push and push and push into the tight, enveloping heat. Now you're with him, now you're working yourself into Konzen Douji, and your soul surges towards the radiance as your body strives to get closer still to this kami who is separate from all but you. You cover him, pressing close to his body. Skin on skin, and mouth on mouth, you penetrate him as above, so below.
You are shadow and he is sunlight, and now he burns away your darkness and you push faster, harder toward the goal and you feel his gasps of pain in your mouth but there's no stopping the wildfire that rages through you and completely overwhelms every aspect of your being and as you hurtle from shadow into light, you cry out with the release from sin.
As you regain your senses a little later on, you find yourself back in the all too familiar shades. Konzen is still there; he lies still as death on the bed next to you, staring at the ceiling. The only change there is to see in him, is the carefully arranged blank expression where there earlier would have been sullen annoyance. It isn't much of a leap in cognition then, to conclude that Konzen still doesn't understand. And as long as Konzen doesn't understand, you will remain impure and unclean. Until he learns to comprehend how he can banish darkness and create perfect light, all you can get from him is a moment's respite from who you are and what you are.
Until Konzen Douji fathoms his true potential, stolen moments of respite will have to suffice.