>Let us grovel before this powerful youkai who has us plainly and unquestionably in her deadly clutches.
>No point in having pride right now if a shameful display will get us out of this mess.
>You're more than willing to throw away your pride; only a fool would think pride was worth dying for. But... do you even know how? You don't grovel. You've never grovelled. You were always stronger than that, always more composed. It would never be fear that reduced you to blubbering, and none of the binds you've been in would be solved by begging. You're pragmatic. You pick the solution which works and ignore the rest - or so you like to tell yourself, no matter your success rate these past few weeks.... But if this is the solution
this situation requires, then so be it.
>You do your best. You admit defeat. You admit your powerlessness. You admit that you are at her mercy. All of this is essentially true, so it's easy enough to say it. The vines continue their leisurely climb across your body, wrapping your legs and arms and coiling around your torso. They draw steadily tighter as time passes, slow enough that you don't quite notice until it starts to hurt. But the one that brushes over your cracked ribs actually makes you gasp mid-word when it squeezes. Yuuka smiles. It does it again. Harder.
>You try to keep speaking, try to find something to
say that might satisfy her. Try not to groan too loudly as the plants contract around your injuries. All the while, Yuuka watches silently, your words echoing in the stillness.
>"Is that really the best you can do?" she says after another moment. Her voice sounds lightsome, but disinterested. "I'm not sure I quite believe you."