flowerwings

So Sweet So Lonely

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 00:52:41 GMT

Title: So Sweet So Lonely
Author: nil_from_hell
Fandom: J-Rock (DEAD END)
Pairing: Morrie, Crazy Cool Joe
note: Set pre-band, middle school age (1976-ish).

==========
Tadashi glared down at the world below him through the chain link fence surrounding the rooftop he was perched on the edge of. It was recess, but he snuck up here to be alone. Well, not completely alone. Looking out from the fence with him was his G.I. Joe. His name was just Joe, though. And he belonged to Tadahi's brother, technically. But that never stopped Tadashi from taking it.

Up here... he was completely separate from anyone else. Tadashi didn't get along well with people. Sometimes people said there was something wrong with him, but he knew that wasn't true. It was just that no one else was good enough.

Everyone else was down there, down below. Tadashi just watched them, a little annoyed. They were all so oblivious. It was disgusting. He felt a little strange about it, but he knew he was better off up here, anyway.

Tadashi watched them until it was time to line up and go inside. Sometimes they noticed Tadashi wasn't there and sometimes he got in trouble. He didn't care that much, though. What could they do to him? His parents wouldn't care, either. He already had a big brother. They never needed two sons.

Everyone went inside, but Tadashi didn't move. They might come up here looking for him, but Tadashi didn't feel like going back to class. Maybe he'd just leave. He was considering it when he saw something weird. Some people hadn't gone in from recess? Tadashi wasn't the only one missing, then. He watched them, but...

What were they doing? Tadashi pulled back from the fence a bit, but he didn't stop watching, just ducked down...

There were three boys. Two of them looked older. High school aged? They were hurting the younger one. They hit him and knocked him down, and kicked him. One of them was holding him down. Tadashi got up. He didn't want to watch this. But...

But then the kid looked up, looked right at him. Or at least, at the roof... But he had to have seen him. Tadashi turned away. He should just go back to class. He hated everyone, right? But this... it wasn't this kid's fault. And Tadashi had been treated like this before, too.

He wasn't a freak. He wasn't different.

Tadashi went inside and down the staircase, trying not to attract any attention. He managed to get out the back doors somehow, and outside. He could see them more closely now. That Ohtsuka kid. It figured... He looked different. He wasn't Japanese, at least not completely. Wasn't his fault, sure, but there was nothing he could do about it either way. Of course people were going to treat him differently.

Tadashi clutched at Joe and hesitantly walked closer to them. If he were G.I. Joe, he could do something about this. Joe would care, too.

"Hey," he said, but they didn't even look up. Tadashi picked up a rock and threw it at them. He missed... that was probably for the best. One of the boys looked up, and said something to the other, pointing at Tadashi. Tadashi clenched his fist, the one that wasn't holding Joe, and he didn't move. He stayed and glared at them.

"Got a problem, kid? Why don't you go back to class where you belong?" the one that was holding Ohtsuka down sneered at him.

Tadashi was scared-- too scared to even speak, or so he thought. But he found himself saying, "Why don't you back off? That guy didn't do anything to you."

The big guy who was still standing laughed, and started to walk over to him. Tadashi didn't move, but only because he was too scared to. When the guy got close enough to touch him, Tadashi shut his eyes, cringing, and held Joe up in front of him. If Joe was real... If Joe was real, he'd protect him.

The high school guy didn't hit him, though. He grabbed Tadashi by the hair and laughed in his face.

"You think your little doll is going to rescue you, kid?" He turned to call back to his friend, "Hey, Mori. Come check this kid out. He thinks his doll is going to save him!"

"It's not a doll," Tadashi muttered.

The guy yanked on his hair. "What was that?"

"I said it's not a doll!" Tadashi screamed at him, as loudly as he could. He obviously surprised the guy. He surprised himself, too. But more importantly, that other guy, the one called Mori, wasn't holding Ohtsuka down anymore.

Tadashi waited about ten seconds longer than he should have, and then he turned around and ran. Hopefully Ohtsuka had the sense to do the same because Tadashi wasn't going back for him. He kept running and didn't look back. He didn't go back into the school. He just kept running until he got home. His mother never asked too many questions and she was drunk half the time anyway, so he just went straight to his room and shut the door.

When he got in there, he finally stopped to catch his breath.

===

He didn't want to go to school the next day. Tadashi tried to stay in bed and hide under the blankets, but his dad came in and pulled him out of bed, made him get dressed, and drove him. Tadashi didn't say a word the whole time. He didn't like talking.

The homeroom teacher was mean to him about being late, but he didn't care that much. He didn't say anything back to her, and he sat in his seat all day without paying attention. At recess, he snuck back up to the roof, and started all over again.

Today, though, he didn't watch everyone else playing. He looked up at the sky. It wasn't particularly blue or sunny or anything. Just a plain, grey day.

There were sounds of laughing and stuff from down below, and occasionally one of the recess teachers would yell at someone, but Tadashi didn't listen to any of that. He could hear it, but he wasn't listening. But then there was another noise, so sudden, and so much closer. His heart pounded, but he realised it was the sound of the door opening up to the roof. Tadashi spun around, defensive...

It was that kid from yesterday. Ohtsuka.

Tadashi didn't talk. Just stared at him. He really did look kind of weird. There were rumours that he was from America, but that seemed stupid to Tadashi. His name was Ohtsuka. American people didn't have Japanese names like Ohtsuka. They all had family names like Smith or Williams or something.

Ohtsuka walked right up to him, but Tadashi didn't say anything still.

"Hey. You're the one from yesterday," Ohtsuka said after a moment. It wasn't a question, so it didn't need an answer, but Tadashi nodded. Ohtsuka didn't even have an accent or anything. Of course he wasn't American. People were stupid...

"You didn't have to do that," he told Tadashi.

"Yeah. I know."

It was quiet for a minute. Ohtsuka had two big bruises on his face. He got away when Tadashi ran, right?

"Well... Thanks," Ohtsuka said, very honestly, and then he bowed... it was just a little bow, but it still was one. That was... nice.

Tadashi nodded, acknowledging it.

"I'm Ohtsuka Motoyuki. Some people call me Morrie, though... Who are you?"

Tadashi didn't know what to say. It wasn't like he needed any friends. Other people... they were no good. Disgusting. And what kind of name was Morrie? No wonder he got himself into trouble.

"I'm... I'm Joe."
===

Lesson 1

Sun, 23 Aug 2009 00:09:45 GMT

Title: Lesson 1
Author: nil_from_hell
Fandom: J-rock (X Japan)
Pairing: Yoshiki/Taiji, Yoshiki/Taiji/OC
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for sex/bdsm

==========
It had been two years since they lived together, and over a year already since they'd last spoken. Taiji still thought of that bastard every day, though. He tried not to hold a grudge and it was all in the past, but it was serious shit, but it was Yoshiki who was really missing out. X had died without him. He'd heard talk of a sort of homecoming concert for them coming up, but Taiji didn't pay much attention.

He had to wonder who their new bassist would be, but...

It wouldn't be anyone as good as Taiji. Yoshiki wasn't looking for someone with talent- on the contrary, he felt threatened by it, just like he felt threatened by Taiji's ambitions and compositions. It was better for Yoshiki to pick someone mediocre, someone he could control.

He hated when Taiji took control. It was funny, because what he loved best was when Taiji took control. Taiji was good at what he did, of course.

When he and Yoshiki had moved out of their apartment and started their lives in separate places, Taiji had pocketed a few things Yoshiki wouldn't miss- his little black book, for starters. They were famous. Successful. Yoshiki didn't need to get down on his knees for cash, although the slut probably still loved to. He was said to be third richest man in Japan or some bullshit, but he'd still spread his legs to make a buck.

Well, Taiji never approved, especially since he took a piece of that ass frequently as well.

Since Yoshiki was such a damned slut, even to this day, he wouldn't refuse a call from one of his old clients. Taiji knew him too well. Taiji had been around to see him coming and going in the middle of the night, Taiji knew who he was calling, and Taiji knew who left him satisfied and who repulsed him, even though Yoshiki could let them all of them use him equally.

Taiji contacted the guy. He was pretty sure this guy was Yoshiki's favourite, or had been back then. It didn't matter that much. He was pretty sure Yoshiki would answer to anyone whose number was written down here. These days, Taiji had a wife, but it didn't matter that much. They weren't in love, they only married because Taiji got a kid in her belly. Even with a wife, he paid this guy to call and fuck Yoshiki.

Of course Yoshiki agreed to meet up with this guy. Of course. And even though Taiji had been the one to arrange it all behind the scenes, he was fuckin' pissed off. Even though he knew Yoshiki was still such a slut, he still couldn't believe it. The pervert Taiji arranged it with seemed excited enough about it, too.

The creepy fucking part about it was that the guy looked a little bit like Taiji.

Taiji met the guy at his house twenty minutes before Yoshiki was supposed to meet him there. Taiji stayed out of sight, of course, but he still wanted to watch. When he showed up wearing some slutty little thing, Taiji was watching him flirt, watching him play coy, and it almost made Taiji sick. They went straight back to the bedroom.

That bastard got Yoshiki blindfolded and restrained. Grinding his teeth together was all Taiji could do to reign in his possessiveness. Of course he knew this kind of thing happened with a slut like Yoshiki, but Taiji didn't like to watch it.

He was the one who was supposed to do this. But what was he, really? Why was he any different? Yoshiki never charged him to fuck him like these guys, but he was just like them, huh? Taiji was angry. He wished that guy had gagged Yoshiki, too, so Taiji didn't have to hear the sick lies pouring from his lips.

Since Yoshiki was blindfolded, Taiji had no problem with coming right into the room, watching. Watching as he hurt Yoshiki, watching him get his fingers into Yoshiki's ass, watching... Watching. Taiji couldn't contain his anger. He wanted to hurt him, wanted to beat the shit out of him, teach him a lesson, teach Yoshiki that he needed Taiji- wasn't it obvious? But he just moaned and loved every second of it, and when that bastard's cock was thrusting into him, it was all Taiji could do to not get up and rip this loser off of him.

He did get up, though.

Taiji opened his pants, and walked right up to the bed. This had been part of their agreement. Anyway, Yoshiki was just a whore, right? A stupid little whore who needed to learn a lesson. Taiji got on the bed, and Yoshiki clearly wasn't expecting the weight on the mattress next to him when there was already someone between his damned legs. Yoshiki's face turned toward Taiji a bit, but he couldn't see past the blindfold anyway, which was just what Taiji intended.

Taiji grabbed Yoshiki by the hair, and got a leg on either side of him.

"Open up," he commanded forcefully, delighted to see a wave of nervous pass through him. He recognised Taiji's voice, huh? Good. Taiji would leave him guessing. It would be easy to give himself away. After a moment, Yoshiki's mouth opened obediently, and Taiji shoved his cock in roughly.

Yoshiki cried out, his mouth stuffed with it, and Taiji knew by the familiar desperation that he recognised him. How could he not? Still, Taiji didn't say a word. He kept his fingers tight in Yoshiki's hair and fucked his face, hard and violent, and pulled out to come all over Yoshiki's chin and cheeks, his throat. When he pulled out, Yoshiki was intent on saying something, but Taiji pulled his sock off and stuffed it in his mouth.

He didn't need to talk to him. Yoshiki was busy being fucked by his god damned client, anyway.

It was surprisingly easy to pull his pants up and walk away from it all. Without a word, he taught him the most important lesson: he still needed Taiji.
===

Circle

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 00:09:19 GMT

Title: Circle
Author: nil_from_hell
Fandom: jrock: X
Pairing: Taiji/Yoshiki
Rating: PG
note: for trixie_chick. happy birthday :)

==========
I love you, Taiji wanted to say, so many times. I love you. They were only three words, but they were the most impossible words he'd ever known. He'd never said them to another person, not even to his parents. He didn't know a lot about love.

He knew he was in it, though.

They went on dates like they were normal. Well, like she was normal. As far as Taiji was concerned, she was. Her body was just a little different. Yoshiki was ashamed of it, but Taiji preferred her to be herself, no matter what.

Anyway, Taiji was straight. Of course he hadn't fallen in love with a man.

That night wasn't much of a date. They had dinner together, and then they went out on his bike for a couple hours. Her body pressed up against his made everything worth it; she clung to him, and he loved every second of it.

They went to a bar and drank for a bit, and even though they were pretty fuckin' famous, it didn't matter that much. A place like this, the guys here didn't care about who X was. And Yoshiki was the perfect girlfriend the whole time they were there, hanging off his arm, grabbing his ass, giving the other guys shy smiles, before letting Taiji show them she was his.

On the way back to their place, they picked up some more drinks and spent the night on the couch. They made love, first, instead of the brutal fucking they were used to. It was weird to Taiji, as both of them preferred it rougher, but sometimes shit like this was just necessary. They drank after that, and they talked about so much shit...

Later on, Taiji was pretty drunk, and he got up from the couch.

"I'll be right back, Princess," he laughed, as Yoshiki grabbed onto his arm playfully. Taiji batted her off, and disappeared for a few minutes, digging through some of his stuff in their bedroom. He had it in here... somewhere. He had it saved, and safe.

When he found it, he stumbled back out to the living room and made Yoshiki sit up. She was only slightly less drunk than he was. He got down on his knee, though, all proper and shit, and she laughed at him, telling him to get back up on the couch, but he shook his head, grinning. He took her hand, and put the little box in it.

She looked confused, but Taiji could practically hear her heart pounding, and he could see in her eyes... she barely dared to hope, right? A girl like her, well. She would never expect this, probably. Never felt allowed to dream it.

He wrapped his fingers around the box and pried it open.

"You'll marry me, right?"

Her eyes widened, and Taiji pulled the ring out the box.

"We can't... you know that. You know we can't. I'm... I'm not..."

"Later. When it's allowed. You will, right?" Taiji took her hand, and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a nice enough ring, fit for the fuckin' princess that she was.

She never specifically said yes, but the way she kissed him was answer enough.

===

It had been almost two years since they'd been back 'together'. Reunited, or some bullshit, since their huge fight way back when. Neither of them were really capable of carrying out a real relationship by this point in time. Both of them had suffered hardships, mentally and otherwise, in the past decade and a half. They were just god damned old now. Taiji tried to stay busy, but nothing he was doing was working out. He couldn't stay focused, stay active long enough with one project, and when he did manage to keep his head in the game, the rest of the members would lose interest and everything would come crashing down anyway.

Couldn't catch a break.

Taiji was back in LA, at Yoshiki's place. He'd been living here again for the past month, although he'd spent a lot of time there on and off since 2009. He'd even picked up a lot of English-- enough to get by, at least.

Taiji was playing one of Yoshiki's gaming consoles. This big fuckin' house... there was a separate and special room for everything. He'd never actually seen Yoshiki play a video game in her life, but sure enough, she had a tv that spanned most of a wall in her gaming room. Taiji made sure to put it to use.

A door opened in the hall. Yoshiki must have come home. Taiji paused his game and went after her. He had a fucking bone to pick, and it had been preying on his mind for too long now. Hadn't she ever thought about it? Taiji thought about it. He'd thought about it so many times in the past... damn, had it really already been twenty years?

Most importantly, it was later.

He found her in the kitchen, pouring a drink. She drank a lot. They both did. He didn't blame her, either. Taiji leaned against the doorjamb and waited for a moment before he spoke, waited until she was done.

"I want a ring," he said, as she was putting th bottle away. She was much older now and didn't look much like a 'she' anymore. She dressed like the guy she felt she was supposed to act like most of the time, but at home, she still dressed like herself. At home, around Taiji. She trusted him still. Not many other people, though.

Taiji felt the same way.

"What? What are you talking about?" she asked, but he could tell she was somewhat nervous.

"I gave you a ring once. Do you still have it?"

She looked a bit hurt. Maybe she misunderstood.

"You... want it back?"

"No, I want one too. It's later, Princess. It's allowed now."

They were drunk back then. And she had never said 'yes'. And that lack of a 'yes' had preyed on his mind for years enough already. It was time for her to say yes, damn it.

"You'll marry me, right?"
===

Hello, you dreamers

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 22:57:44 GMT

Title: Hello, you dreamers
Author: nil_from_hell
Fandom: J-rock (Monoral)
Characters: Ali, Anis
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Inspired by Monoral's PV, 'Tuesday'.

===========
Ali was growing to hate this damned song. It seemed like they'd been working on recording forever, and given the personal nature of all of their songs, he could see how it was getting to Anis. Anis had complained that his throat was hurting and wanted to take a break. Yeah, that was fine of course...

It had been a while, though.

He headed up to the roof, where Anis had gone to chill, after giving a little bit of attitude and throwing his bass down. He didn't really care. Couldn't they finish this another day? Tomorrow? Whatever? Well, Anis wasn't satisfied with it, so Ali couldn't be, either. Everyone else's opinions were starting to matter more than Ali was comfortable with. They were supposed to be doing this for themselves.

When he got up to the rooftop, all the thoughts of music and recording or anything like that just slipped out of his memory. Anis was standing on the edge of the building, wind sweeping his hair around him like he was some kind of demon or something, but...

He was really too fucking close to the edge, and that part of the roof wasn't fenced in or anything...

Ali didn't want to startle him. Carefully, he went up to Anis, shuffling his feet against the roof to make some noise.

"Anis?" he asked, but Anis didn't respond, so Ali edged closer... the closer he got, though... he could see that Anis was trembling.

"Hey..." Ali said, pleadingly. He was so close to the edge of the roof now, it was making him nervous, and... Anis was still on the edge. Just... what? Anis couldn't be... He wasn't going to...? Right?

Anis didn't look at him. It was all kind of a blur. Ali saw Anis' foot move. He reached out and grabbed Anis by the arm. He was too late. Too late... He still had a hold on Anis, but Anis was...

Was dangling from the side of the building.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Ali cried to him. It was hard, impossibly hard, to hang onto Anis, and even harder when Anis looked up into his eyes. Everything about him looked hopeless.

Ali couldn't think about that right now. He had to hang on. Fuck, Anis was heavy...

"Let go," Anis called to him. Everything was loud. Everything, suddenly, was pounding in Ali's ears.

"Are you crazy? C'mon... hang on! I'll... I gotta get you back up here..."

Ali was shaking. Which was bad, obviously, because he had to pull Anis back up here! But as much as he pulled, it was just... it was impossible. He started calling for help, but... up here, nobody was going to hear him. Nobody. So that meant...

He was on his knees, on the edge of a building, hanging onto the arm of his best friend, a hundred stories above a busy street. Ali looked into Anis' eyes, and he nearly lost it.

"Why...?"

At least Anis was hanging onto him. But Ali watched, and Anis glanced down... Ali felt sick.

"You could fall with me," Anis whispered. Ali's heart was pounding. Fall with him... If Anis was going to fall, maybe that would be better. Maybe he should. Maybe...

"No. Neither of us are going to fall. I'm gonna... get you back up here, okay? Just. Just hang on, okay?"

Ali pulled and pulled... he thought maybe it would be like on television, where people in dire situations would discover super-strength or something, but... this was the real world, and laws of science applied. Ali knew that. He knew it, and...

His eyes were watering. Anis' arm... was slipping...

Ali just held on tighter.

Anis kept looking down.

Ali wouldn't let him go.

It felt like it had been hours, hours that they'd been here, Anis dangling above the far away ground like a sick puppet put on display for death itself. Ali couldn't let Anis go. He wouldn't.

Anis's arm slipped, and Ali lurched forward, grabbing him by the wrist.

"Ali," Anis begged suddenly, reaching up with his other arm, trying to hold on. "I don't want to die, Ali..."

There were tears in Anis' eyes, as Ali searched them, desperate. Maybe Ali had tears too, he didn't know. He didn't care. He only... only cared about Anis right now. No one else, nothing else.

"I'm not going to let you. H-hang on."

Anis nodded, but his eyes turned downward again. Ali's arm was killing him, the tension was tearing him apart, and he didn't care. He had to... do something...

Why hadn't anybody come to help?

But it didn't matter, because then, just then, Anis' hand slipped out of his, and even as Ali leaned further to grab him, Anis was slipping away from him. Down. Ali wasn't sure what happened in that moment. He couldn't watch. He fell back, trembling, against the roof. He... he didn't want to look.

Anis was... gone?

Anis... didn't take Ali with him.
===

Dream

Thu, 22 May 2008 00:21:10 GMT

Title: Dream
Author: nil_from_hell
Fandom: J-Rock (L'Arc~en~Ciel, S.O.A.P.)
Characters: Ken, Tetsu, Sakura
Rating: PG
Summary: Ken thinks about what's true.

==========
He couldn't stop thinking about what Yacchan had said. Yacchan knew this shit, right? He always had, he'd always been the one out of all of them who knew best, right? Well, Tetchan knew best when it came to business or financial things, but... Musically, Sakura was the one that knew what was going on, even from the very beginning.

Ken thought they probably still wouldn't have gotten anywhere without Sakura's help, but they didn't talk about that kind of thing. Didn't really talk about Sakura at all. Not in terms of having ever been in the band, at least.

It was taboo, or something like that.

But Ken was having so much fun! Being in a band like this again, being in a band where he could just have fun and be himself, and best of all he could shine like he never had before. Though, it was really hard to sing while playing the guitar, but it was fun, too. Playing with Yacchan again... man, it was great! They were really compatible, and all. Him and Sakura.

Still, Sakura's words were in his head, still. And he didn't get it. Why it bothered him. He just didn't understand. It wasn't even because it was kind of an insult to L'Arc. He didn't care about that, it was something else, something nagging at him inside.

He was headed over to Tetsu's place. They'd been kind of fighting for a while, but they'd made up, at least. It was good, 'cause Ken really needed someone to talk to! Well, at least about what Sakura said. Couldn't really tell Hyde about it at all, and Hyde was too busy for friends or whatever anyway. Kind of sucked. But it also kind of proved what Yacchan had said.

Ken was fuckin' confused.

"Does it bother you?" Sakura had asked him. And Ken knew Sakura wouldn't have said something like this to Tetchan or Hyde, because he cared too much about hurting their feelings. He must have known Ken wouldn't have been that way about it, because... well, Yacchan always knew that kind of thing! And he was right, too...

"Does it bother you? That you've become sellouts?"

It didn't seem like something Sakura would say, but maybe it needed to be said. Ken hadn't realised it, but maybe Sakura was right.

Wasn't that why he wasn't in the band anymore? But Sakura still had a lot of fun with Ken! See? Because S.O.A.P. was awesome! They were having the time of their lives!

Maybe...

He tapped his fingers against the wall of the elevator as it rose up to Tetsu's floor. Though, with Tetsu's record, Ken would be lucky if he still lived there, sheesh! Seriously, though, he wanted to talk to Tetsu about this! So he had told Tetsu he was coming over, though Tetchan sounded a little nervous about it or something on the phone, but Ken told him he was coming anyway! Tetchan should be a better host...

When he knocked on the door, it took Tetsu a long time to answer, which Ken thought was a little rude, seeing as they'd been best friends since they were kids, plus he'd even given Tetsu prior notice. But Tetsu answered the door, and his hair was wet and stuff. He looked kind of like he hadn't been sleeping well, bags under his eyes and stuff. Well, Tetchan stressed out too much! Ken was always telling him to relax.

"Heya, Kenchan..." Tetsu said to him, seeming a little nervous or tired or something. Tired was understandable, but not nervous, so.

"Hey. Can I come in?" Tetsu was just kind of standing in the doorway... Was that how he was supposed to act with his best friend? Oh, maybe Tetsu was still mad at him... Damn, he thought they were over that! Tetsu nodded and stepped out of the doorway, though, so Ken came right in and kicked his shoes off.

"How's your band?" Tetsu asked him quietly, but then he grinned at Ken.

"Oh, you know. Fun." That was the problem, though, right? But see, Ken had fun with L'Arc, still. Wasn't that fine? But he thought maybe... well, the other guys, were they still having fun? Ken didn't know. It sometimes didn't seem like it.

Especially playing with Yacchan again, he was having the most fun he'd had in years! But he couldn't say that to Tetchan. It would hurt his feelings.

"Tetchan, are we sellouts?"

Tetsu kind of stared at him for a minute, and Ken couldn't figure out what the look on his face meant, but it probably wasn't a great thing. Shit.

"Why, did Sakura say that?" Tetsu asked him after a moment, and even Ken could feel the bitterness in Tetsu's voice. Also kinda sounded like he might cry. Damn... But Ken needed to talk to someone about it! Who else was he supposed to talk to if not Tetchan?

He came in out of the doorway, and leaned on the wall at the entrance to the living room. Maybe they could take this more... well, inside? Would be good...

"Well, kinda..." But Ken had to flinch a little when he saw that look on Tetchan's face! Man. "He asked if it bothered me."

"Well does it?" Tetsu snapped back at him.

Ken sighed, and went over to Tetsu's couch, flopping down on it and making himself at home.

"I didn't think we were sellouts," he said simply.

Tetsu was quiet for a minute. Ken thought he might say a number of different things, but when he did finally speak, Ken wasn't expecting that answer at all.

"Yeah, we are."

Ken knew Tetsu had a dream. He always had. And... it wasn't that different from Sakura's dreams, either. Ken understood that. And he knew it got a little bit skewed. If Tetsu thought they were sellouts, too...

"But we're still doing what we love, right?" Tetsu asked, coming over to the couch. He sat down carefully next to Ken, and Ken slipped his arm around him, letting Tetsu put his head on Ken's shoulder.

"I thought so..." Ken said with a sigh.

Tetsu said it was okay. So it must have been. But Ken knew, too... Tetsu missed their dream more than any of them.
===

Hurt

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 10:13:27 GMT

Title: Hurt
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Heero/Duo
Warning: death

==========
Too familiar in my hands. It's almost a comforting feeling, something familiar, that I've missed for too long. Metal. Cold metal. Metal that's meant to hurt someone else and not me, because for right now, I'm fucking tired of being hurt. I'm tired of being hit. I'm tired of being used. I'm tired of his voice.

It's his turn for some of the god damn pain to get thrown back in his face. Maybe I'm a coward for doing this while he's asleep, but fuck, when else do you want me to do it? When he's awake, it's like he's always after me. I don't want him, I can't take his shit anymore! I know I don't even deserve to be in his presence, 'cause I'm... well, me, but fuck, why can't I get away from him? Why do I have to let him keep hurting me and not have any fucking say in it?

Don't you see? There's like... like a fucking bottle inside everyone where they keep their pain, but man, it can only hold so much. Only so much before it overflows, yanno? And when it overflows, you gotta put it somewhere. Might as well give it back to the asshole who put it there.

The asshole who's asleep in our bedroom. Why's he asleep? Yeah, I put sleeping pills in his drink, or else he'd be making excuses to... well, do whatever he wants. Again. Not that he needs excuses.

Fuck you, Heero Yuy. There's no hesitation as I pull the trigger.

Twice.
===

2003

Blind Sound

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 09:58:17 GMT

Title: Blind Sound
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairings: Heero/Duo
Warnings: angst, ficlet, death, trippy

==========
It was only another event, just another death joining the mass congregation of shattered souls slaughtered in the war, indistinguishable from the last death. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make it feel important. He couldn't make it feel like the end. Too many times had death stared him in the eye, and he stared back without blinking, without thought. He was used to seeing the blood that should have been his own. Especially now. He should have been dead, instead.

The wall of the cell was cold and wet and he knew it would be a dark metal grey if there had been any light or if he'd cared to look. A continuous dripping plagued the would-be silence and did nothing to distract him, didn't help him to feel less alone with only his thoughts to offer their unnecessary speculations a little too late. A disfigured piece of light fell on the floor by his toes, dripping steadily from the impossibly high window at the top of the cell, and he didn't dare touch it, couldn't bear to cleanse his skin with that repulsive purity.

He wasn't exactly content letting himself be captured. Maybe he'd die today and everything would be better. After all, he didn't know how long he could take this guilt, couldn't stand to hear everything slipping away again. Duo's voice would only last so long until he lost it; he lost all the voices of the people he killed. Instead of giving him something to focus on, the incessant drip-drip-drip grew unbearable, and he wondered, just briefly wondered if it was the same slime growing down the wall, the same damp displeasure molded against his back. His shirt had been taken from him before he was thrown in the cell, and he was left with that horrible sensation to cradle him as he couldn't bring himself to move from he wall; he was too weak to stand, and he didn't dare touch the light on the floor.

"Sorry. I-I'm sorry."

He had apologized at the very end. Probably, he'd never apologized for anything in his life. Not really, not for anything serious. Not for anything that was actually his fault. How could it be his fault that his sensors were down? How could he have seen it coming from behind?

He didn't know why he refused to touch the light. The little patch of gold was his only savior in the cell, the only sign of life that dared to reach its grimy hands into the depths of filth to which he'd descended. Perhaps he didn't want to admit he was afraid, but he was-- terrified of those rays shining down into his bloody soul. He couldn't wash it off; blood stains are just too dark. He shuddered, imagining that dark cockpit, reaching out and taking, and accepting blow after blow after blow of pain. All the weaponry and ammunition in the world couldn't help him if he couldn't see. Those bastards kept at him until he couldn't speak anymore, and they left him alone to suffer while he listened to the nothing buzzing in his head. And he was alone to die.

"I just... tell you s... thing," his voice struggled through the frazzled system. It didn't matter that the enemy could hear.

Aside from the dripping, he swore there was a high pitched laugh, a scream, someone yelling, pleading, dying to get away beyond that fragile, pale square of light just a little too far out of reach. Such a clamor, unbearable, the screaming encompassed him, tucking him away and he didn't dare move to shield his ears from the strains.

"You kn.... weren't so bad, Heero."

He wondered who was screaming if he was all alone.
===

2003

Just Feel The Rain

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 09:50:57 GMT

Title: Just Feel the Rain
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Heero/Duo

==========
Four. Five. Six.

He always tried to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder just to see how far away it was. It didn't really matter-- the closer the better. Maybe he just had a morbid sense of pleasure, but storms were his favourite weather.

No matter how bad things got, a storm could always make it better. The electricity surging through the air made him feel alive, made him able to breathe again. The thunder could always curl closer to him than that suffocating blanket of pain.

He was barely aware of the hand on the small of his back, tracing little delicate patterns through his shirt. He was too caught up with the way the storm felt, tiny footprints scattered over his shoulders and chest, occasionally dripping down to his stomach. Heero would always sit with him, but Heero couldn't feel it the way he did.

The electricity had gone out forty-five minutes ago, and the thunder was dying down a little. Duo leaned back against the couch, Heero's hand still on his back, and sighed deeply, letting the sensations trickle away little by little. His eyes were closed, just experiencing the pure ecstasy the sound of thunder could bring.

"Hey, Heero?" he asked after a minute.

"Hm?"

"What do storms feel like to you?" He knew Heero couldn't feel what he felt. Heero didn't experience things the same way. Heero couldn't see the way music danced, or taste the words Duo said to him. He knew Heero wouldn't be able to feel it physically.

"Like bullets," he responded slowly after a moment, like the words were reluctant to leave the warmth of his mouth. "Like I'm fighting again."

Duo froze, stricken. How could something so marvelous, such a beautiful, tangible gift, something he derived so much pleasure from hurt so badly to take the one he loved back to battle?

"And you still sit here and listen with me?" he asked, leaning his head against Heero's shoulder, carefuly noting his lover's expression from the corner of his eye.

"Of course," he said, a smile unfolding over his lips, "because unlike the bullets, a storm can't take you away from me."
===

2003

Make Believe

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 09:49:47 GMT

Title: Make Believe
Author: nil_from_hell
Anime: Gundam Wing
Pairings: Trowa/Duo
Category: Angst
Rating: PG
Warning: Angst, Death

=========
"Where do you wish you were right now?" Scattered pieces of moonlight fell blindly through the accidental clouds, filtering haphazardly through the cracked and damaged blinds hanging halfway off of their frame. A familiar hand was playing with his braid.

"With you." The reply was low and melodious, even in tone, somehow too short. Duo laughed a little, nervously. Unease was apparent in both his taut, edgy movements and the rushed, anxious laughter sieving through his voice.

"You're with me right now."

"Yeah."

Duo shifted his back so it wasn't supported by the grimy wall, and rearranged his meager body on the mattress so that his knees were bent and splayed to his sides, his long t-shirt just barely covering all it needed to, and he was facing Trowa, nearly in his lap. A quivering finger reached out of it's own accord to run along Trowa's jaw.

"Well, where do you wish you were? I'll be there with you, just tell me where."

Trowa thought for a moment, his eyes blank and somehow as distant as the hint of sunrise that was teasing on the fringes of the horizon. Duo stayed just as he was, knowing that Trowa had already grown accustomed to his casual invasions of personal space.

"The beach."

"I've never been on the beach." Duo's eyes were wide and shivering in their sockets, searching desperately through Trowa's to find some tiny light of hope or faith.

"I have, once. I was young."

"Yeah?"

"Actually, it might have been a lake."

Duo inched closer so that his nose was perched against his companion's. "It was still water."

"But it wasn't warm. Or sandy. Or sunny. The water was like ice. I stood in it for a while."

The skin of his nose must have been like the water, like ice against Trowa, trembling against him. He scooted his entire thin frame forward so that he was in Trowa's lap, his legs straddling Trowa's. He pressed his hands against the wall Trowa was leaning on to hold himself upright, to keep his slight weight from piling on Trowa. He felt hands steady around his waist, but wasn't aware of them. "I want to go with you to a real beach someday."

"Okay."

There was a certain decisiveness in his intonation that worried Duo, and he let more of the weight he was trying to sustain on his own fall upon Trowa's knees.

"Yeah, you know where I wish I could be right now?" His eyes were insistent, frantic, and his chilled, sweaty palms slid down the marred wall until they came to rest on Trowa's shoulders.

"Where?"

"Well, okay, I've never really seen one of these places, but I saw a poster once, an advertisement, y'know? On a street corner. And ever since then I just wanted to go, one of those places with rides and games, one of those fun parks."

Trowa nodded helplessly.

"I've been to one, once. They hire circus performers sometimes."

"Yeah, what's it like? Let me make believe."

Trowa shrugged as well as he could, supporting Duo's upper body with his shoulders, trying to prop his own fatigued limbs as well against the wall. Duo's eyes, merely inches from his own, had darkened to a rich, velvety sapphire, an eerie hue that haunted his eyes when he was anxious and afraid.

"There are a lot of people talking and laughing with their families. There are all kinds of smells and sounds that I hadn't heard before. I ate a funnel cake."

Duo released a quaking sigh that swept Trowa's lips, his tepid breath against the chill air fashioning a brief haze that lingered for a moment against his skin, making the hair on his neck stand rigid.

"What's a funnel cake?" His words fell cursory, nearly slurring together in the frigid air.

"It's a sort of bread thing. You'd like it, probably. It had sugar on top."

Duo's eyes flashed like electricity in a stormy midnight sky, the lightening that illuminated an entire room before departing in darkness. In his eyes, Trowa could see that his heart was about to burst. Duo buried his face in the tattered t-shirt fabric clothing Trowa's right shoulder.

"I wanna do it, okay?"

Trowa's arms struggled to bring both consolation and security and enfold Duo like a child's blanket.

"What do you want to do?" Trowa's hands roamed along his back, clutching the lean body against his own. He tried to ignore the way his vertebrae and ribs protruded beneath the skin.

"I-I wanna go there. With you. I want to go to a beach, and I want to see a fun park and eat a funnel cake." He shivered against Trowa's body, some of his trembling emerging from the hiccup-sobs trapped inside his chest.

"Okay. We'll go to a park that's on the beach."

"And we'll eat funnel cakes in the sand."

"Right." Trowa clutched the middle of Duo's braid in one hand, pressing it to Duo's back, and the quivering fingers of his left hand wandered higher over the white t-shirt fabric. He met a damp, moist warmth at his shoulder blade. He dipped his smallest finger inside the tiny hole in the shirt, fingering the hollow flaw he found beneath his fingertips. Duo gasped, clinging forcefully to his shoulder.

"We're gonna... gonna make this all the way... together, right?" Duo's voice and breath were ragged and gritty with an unambiguous shade of fear painting it.

Trowa didn't answer for a time, insistent on clasping the frail body to his chest.

"We're going to stay together." He looked at his left hand, discolored in a sickening shade of crimson, then at the flaccid form tilting vulnerably in his arms.
===

2003

Barely Bleeding

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 09:47:50 GMT

Title: Barely Bleeding
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairings: Trowa/Duo
Warnings: angst, ficlet, cutting

==========
Trowa had noticed two days ago. Duo knew that Trowa was looking and was content not to provide any witty comments, or an explanation, or any sign that he could feel Trowa's eyes on him. It was one of those things that dissatisfied Trowa, Duo's obvious charades, but that was just how he worked, irritating or not. He wouldn't come out and confess when he was embarrassed, even if he didn't bother hiding it.

Trowa had noticed two days ago. How could he not when he saw Duo naked on a fairly regular basis? Without his clothes, Duo couldn't hide from him anymore than he could admit to him what he'd done, but that didn't change anything. He lived under the assumption that Trowa wouldn't confront him, and was usually right.

Trowa had noticed two days ago. Duo hadn't been naked at the time, but he had his sleeves rolled up, making lunch. It was only by chance that Trowa walked in the kitchen for a glass of water, his eyes sparking a second delayed before he left the room again. He liked to hope it wasn't real, because he always had an alternate concept for everything. His own method of pretense.

Trowa confronted him two days later. Duo wasn't naked, wasn't making lunch. He was completely covered, neck to wrist to ankle, but Trowa could still see him wearing nothing. He could see him holding the knife.

"Why'd you do that?"

"I didn't do anything," Duo said, his eyes never betraying the television screen.

"You cut yourself."

"Not really." A little smile tugged at his lips as if it was their only support.

"I'm not an idiot. You get mad at me for doing that."

Duo sighed. "Calm down, Tro, it was barely bleeding."

"Let me see."

"Nah, you've seen them enough times to know they all look the same." He grinned, his relaxed posture twitching every so slightly in defense mode.

"Why'd you do that?"

A slight shrug rolled off his shoulders. "You know. It was either that or something worse. Sort of what happens when I get just a bit too desperate."

"Don't do it anymore."

"Right, cap'n. I'll listen to you when you do." Duo yawned, feigning interest in the infomercial.

Trowa had noticed two days ago. Duo hadn't washed the knife very well, and he saw blood on the handle while looking for a clean fork.

Trowa hated himself three days later when he found the bathtub soaked in blood.
===

2003

Angel

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 09:37:33 GMT

Title: Angel
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairings: Heero/Duo
Warnings: sappish/angstish stuff, religion (or lack thereof), Heero POV
Summary: Heero watches Duo watch his memories

==========
I wasn't surprised that he was sitting in the last pew. He didn't do this often. I felt awkward standing outside the sanctuary like this and just _watching_ him; I should have been in there with him. Instead, I watched him through the glass windows in the little lobby, reminding myself that this was his time. He'd rather be alone now than have me with him. He needed that time for himself, to remember. This wasn't my territory, not something I could understand. He didn't need me to hold his hand, though gods, I wish I could. His eyes were so distant. I wanted to pull him back into the present.

This wasn't the same kind of church that he was raised in. From what he's told me, this church is different than what he'd be used to. I don't know about the subject matter, because I was never taught any religion, but there are little things that I saw right off. Maybe I'm wrong; maybe a church is a church, as long as the people are praising God. I don't know, and I won't ever understand.

His shoulders were slumped in defeat, and even more I wished to be with him, to put my arms around him. He likes when I'm forward with him, but I was sure that this wasn't the place. I couldn't hear what the robed figure in the front was saying, but every once in a while, Duo's shoulder blades would twitch with discomfort and he'd turn his head to the side. Why did he torture himself like that?

I forced myself to admire the skilled carvings on the ends of a pew that had been moved into the lobby for seating. I didn't like seeing him this way, especially when I couldn't do anything to help. The wood was obviously very old. I'm sure Duo would have seen something in it that I couldn't, some kind of life or tale, but I just saw wood. It didn't exactly concern me, but it suddenly made me feel very uncomfortable. I knew I didn't belong here. It wasn't my place.

I was relieved when Duo slipped through the shadows and out the side door, his shoulders sulking and his bangs hiding his clouded eyes. He jammed his hands in the pockets of his long, black, coat and tilted his head in a gesture toward the door. He hadn't waited until the service was over, and I wondered if that was alright.

It was raining outside, and it was very dark, the only light coming from the sporadic street lights littering the side walk. The moon didn't even show it's tired face behind the clouds. Duo was a stride ahead of me, his heavy shoes splashing through the water accumulated in the deeper pieces of the side walk. He was so dejected and definitely had a bitter streak trekking through his eyes. All I wanted was to reach out and touch him. It wasn't as if we were secretive about our relationship; over time, as we grew closer to each other, we became so comfortable that we'd hold hands in public, and maybe sneak a kiss. For some reason, I felt as though I should leave him alone now. He was angry, and I didn't like receiving Shinigami's bitter words anymore than he liked throwing them at me. I loved him, though, and I didn't want to let him fight his ghosts alone.

But when I finally mustered the courage to reach out and take his arm, he flinched and tore it away from me, and he looked at me with eyes I didn't know, eyes that scared me. He blinked, and softened a little, relaxing his harsh frontage.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, not bothering to turn his painful eyes away. I didn't respond, but held out my hand for him to take or not. He did, and we kept walking, now side by side.

Something needed to be said. Something. Anything. The rain was too disquieting, and it was standing in the way of our words. Luckily, neither of us minded the wet.

"Did you find what you wanted?" I asked, awkwardly slicing the discomfort.

A hint of a cynical smile captured his lips. "I'm not Lutheran."

"But you're not Catholic, either," I reminded him, gently. He shrugged vaguely, chewing on the information for a few minutes. It worried me, seeing him like this, but I couldn't just ignore this part of him.

"I believe in Death."

I wasn't sure how to respond, uncertain of what he needed to say behind the general statement, but there was something. He knew I wasn't good at coaxing things out of him, but maybe he needed it. The street lights kept dropping gold on us as we walked: yellow, grey, and yellow again, the light never really reaching into the very bottom of the puddles. I couldn't figure out what to say without sounding inconsiderate.

"Everyone believes in death. We die. That's what happens."

To my surprise, he laughed. "Yeah, but people believe that there's Something out there listening to their every wish, that helps them stay alive. They believe that after they die they're going to shine with wings and a halo and a robe. They think that when they die, they're going to live a wonderful, new, life. Their death and the Death that I believe in aren't the same thing."

That made sense to me, but I assumed there was more to it than that. It wasn't that simple; there must have been something else lurking behind the dim explanation that I just couldn't see.

"What about the people you dream of?”

"Sister Helen and Father Maxwell? Solo?" He recoiled slightly, but I didn't regret asking. He was old enough to handle the pain a memory could blanket him with. "They're... well, they're wherever they want to be. Heaven or Hell, or whatever," he glanced at me disconcertedly, his head tilted to the side a little, "See, y'know that feeling you get sometimes, like you've got someone holding on to you even when you're all alone? Like... like you're kind of warm inside? It's like that, so I don't know, but I think... I think it means they're still lookin' out for me. I sort of figure they've got to be _somewhere_, 'cause at least they’re alive in my dreams."

I wished, for only a moment that I could relate, that I could understand him better. I hadn't been cared for like that and I didn't really have anyone to miss. I didn't think I'd like missing them.

"Like angels?" I suddenly asked.

"Yeah. Death or Life or whatever. They're still my angels."

It wasn’t crystal clear, but it was good enough for me.
===

2003

The Cost of Love

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 18:56:58 GMT

Title: The Cost of Love
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Yuushi/Gakuto, Yuushi/~
Summary: Gakuto learns that Yuushi's love doesn't come for free
Notes: response!fic to trixie_chick's for a price.

==========

When Yuushi handed him the racquet he had been eyeing in the tennis shop for weeks, perfect weight at barely ten ounces, ideal for fast speed, weight in the grip, he hadn't thought that much of it. Yuushi had the money. More money than he did. Gakuto wasn't poor, but he wasn't quite as rich as he pretended to be. It was a good racquet, and of course, as his partner, Yuushi should be concerned that Gakuto was using the best tools for the game. The racquet was expensive, sure, but that shouldn't be a problem for Yuushi.

When Yuushi had taken him to Odaiba two weeks ago and bought him everything he laid eyes on for more than a few seconds, and spent the entire day with him, dealing with every one of Gakuto's complaints with barely a fuss at all, Gakuto just figured Yuushi was horny as hell and was doing this to earn some mind-blowing sex later on. Gakuto would have been more than happy to give it to him, but when they got back into their own neighborhood, Yuushi took him home without even trying to get into his pants. It was strange, and it made Gakuto a little bit curious. But Yuushi had been willing to be with him all day, and that was never something he'd dream of complaining about.

When Yuushi slipped six thousand yen to Gakuto because he forgot his lunch money, and told him he needed to make sure to eat before their match after school, he had no clue why Yuushi would be carrying so much money on him just to go to school, unless he just didn't bother taking it out of his wallet after the weekend was over. But even more importantly, he didn't understand why Yuushi had left him in the cafeteria after that, instead of at least staying to eat with him. Gakuto had to go find Jirou for company, and Jirou fell asleep right on his tray.

When Yuushi answered the phone breathless after not answering it seven times in a row while Gakuto kept calling, Gakuto knew something was going on. Yuushi told him he'd been in the shower and hadn't heard his phone, but Gakuto had just been to Yuushi's house, and Yuushi’s mother told him straight out that Yuushi wasn't home. He didn't say anything, because he wanted Yuushi to tell him the truth, but Yuushi just told him that he had do write a paper that was due the next day, that he'd talk to him tomorrow, and he hung up the phone.

When Yuushi didn't even bother trying to see him the next day, Gakuto tracked him down during their lunch hour. If Yuushi wasn't in the cafeteria, he'd sometimes be in the computer lab, or a classroom. When Gakuto found him, he was in a classroom.

When Gakuto found him, he didn't bother to let Yuushi know he was there. It was obvious Yuushi was too busy to speak to him anyway.

When Gakuto went to tennis practice after school, he hadn't wanted to face Yuushi at all. He smashed the damned perfect racquet Yuushi had bought him into a locker, cracking it, and got one of the shitty school racquets instead. But he didn't even have the chance to get out of the locker room before he was confronted by Yuushi.

When Yuushi pushed him up against the wall because Gakuto was going out of control with rage, and was kicking at him, hitting him, lashing out at him in any was possible, Gakuto spit at him, and let Yuushi know that he was a damned whore, that he was shameless, that he was complete sewer trash and Gakuto never wanted to speak to him again, and Gakuto would never forgive him, and he could go back to fucking whoever the hell he wanted, and take his damned money with him.

And when Yuushi listened to him say those things, it was like he didn't care at all, and Gakuto knew... Yuushi already had someone else he was thinking of.
===

March 2006

In Dreams

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 18:54:44 GMT

Title: In Dreams
Author: nil_from_hell
Fandom: Yami no Matsuei
Pairings: Oriya/random!teacher, Oriya/Muraki
Rating: R/NC-17
note: birthday fic for trixie_chick.

==========

She wasn't a particularly good fuck, but it wasn't that hard to get Oriya on her desk, holding himself up with his elbows digging into the hard wood, and papers waiting to be graded. She was riding him, but he damn well had two condoms on, because he'd rot in Hell before he let his math teacher have his baby.

This was sort of payback to her husband, too, who came to Kokakuro at least three times a week. But really, it was just for Oriya to get an A in math.

She straddled his waist, and he thrust his hips, grunting because it made her moan louder, but... well, he'd had better. No wonder her husband needed their girls.

Then again, nobody would want anybody else after they'd had Kokakuro's girls. Unless that 'anybody else' happened to be...

Well, Muraki was staying after school in the science lab doing some crazy experiments, or studying, or some other kind of bullshit. It was hard not to think about Muraki while fucking this lady. Muraki would be so much better... Better than anybody else. Maybe because it would mean more than anybody else.

Jeez, if he got to fuck Muraki, he'd actually be doing it for the sake of love. That would be a new one.

Oriya lifted one hand to tease one of the teacher's breasts, really just trying to hurry this along. It was getting kinda tiring, and he really had better things to be doing. Then again, he had to pass his classes so he could stay in school and be with Muraki, not let Muraki leave him behind...

Finally, the teacher was coming, and making way too much noise. She grabbed his hair, way too roughly for his liking, and he pulled away after a minute. Yeah, that was a waste of time.

He let her kiss him, just because, but as soon as he walked out the door, he wiped her lipstick off of him. It was disgusting. And he didn't want anybody to see...

Well, he didn't want Muraki to see.

Quietly, Oriya went into the science lab, approaching Muraki from behind. His hair was falling in his eyes, and Muraki was concentrating hard, but Oriya could tell from the slight tension of his muscles he was well-aware of Oriya's presence.

Muraki closed his book and looked up at Oriya.

"Are you done being a whore?" he asked, a cutting edge to his voice.

Oriya wished that Muraki would say that out of jealousy, but that would be in a land where dreams came true.
===

July 2006

The Definition of Failure

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 18:51:29 GMT

Title: The Definition of Failure
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji, Yukimura/Sanada
Rating: PG - PG13
Summary: Failure comes easily, but Fuji knows just how to use that to his advantage.
Warnings: None.

==========
Everybody was still celebrating, but it was already dark outside. It made Fuji feel a little bit small to realise how many other things were going on while they feasted to their victory over Rikkai Dai. Of course, he always was able to realise that his own personal triumphs and trials weren't incredibly significant in the long run-- at least recently.

A whole world away, Tezuka was busy with his treatment. A few blocks away, there was somebody who Tezuka respected going through his own ordeal, but Fuji had never given a thought to that until today.

He had visited the hospital before even realising that Yukimura Seiichi was a current resident. However, now knowing, there wasn't any way for Fuji Syuusuke to resist.

Visiting hours lasted late, he found out upon arrival. Of course, he would have found a way no matter what to get in, because when Fuji wanted something, he most often was able to attain it; if he didn't, it was only because he was satisfied with forfeiting the chase. For the most part, though, Fuji enjoyed the chase. So although there were technically only twenty-three minutes left until the lonely hospital beds turned away hopeful visitors, Fuji had plenty of time to achieve what he so desired.

The elevator ride seemed to take an eternity, though there was nothing else on Fuji's agenda tonight aside from a night of sleep. He wouldn't sleep, though. Not tonight, like he didn't sleep last night, or the previous one, and just like he wouldn't sleep tomorrow, either. It was hard to sleep knowing Tezuka was so far away, and knowing that most likely, Fuji was the last thing on his mind. How could it be anything but infuriating? Fuji had spent three years making Tezuka belong to him, and to now let it all wash away... Completely maddening.

He had had to stop to ask directions at one nurse's station, but he gave the bored-looking women one of his many smiles in exchange for keeping her irritation to a minimum. Fuji never had any problem winning people over, unless they were Tezuka, and then that only problem was how to hang on tightly.

As he strolled nearer to Yukimura Seiichi's room, a few of the nurses patrolling the hallways gave him odd looks. Of course, Fuji had no idea why, so he completely ignored them. Always easier that way. But upon approaching Yukimura's room, the door was mostly closed, and there were voices inside!

This late? Fuji asked himself, leaning against the wall next to the door. Perhaps Yukimura has somebody quite dedicated to him, too. Fuji wouldn't mind visiting Tezuka in the hospital. In fact, he'd probably bring a sleeping bag and move right in for the duration of Tezuka's stay. On second thought, forget the sleeping bag; he'd much rather sleep beside Tezuka in bed.

From here, Fuji could hear the voices inside, and he was quite glad he came.

"I want you to forgive me."

"Haven't I?" Yukimura's voice was soft, but something about it reminded Fuji of his own. The way, maybe, that he used his words to bite and tease.

"Yukimu--"

"You know I don't like it when you call me that."

"Seiichi." Sanada had seemed quite the obedient one, anyway. It didn't surprise Fuji in the least, especially not after their match today, in which Sanada wanted to win only for his captain.

Fuji would do a lot for his captain.

"Seiichi, I've failed you."

Yukimura didn't speak, and Fuji pushed himself off of the wall to nudge the door open. In truth, he wasn't entirely surprised to see their lips engaged in more than conversation, so he just smiled and waited for them to finish. Yukimura noticed him first, yet made him feel he wasn't there. Fuji's presence startled Sanada enough to make him pull away, to collect his hat up off Yukimura's bed and stuff it back over his hair.

"I'm sorry," said Fuji insincerely, "I wasn't aware you had a visitor. I can wait." Fuji slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against the doorjamb, watching the both of them with his most generic smile plastered to his lips. Like he really had any intent to give them their privacy as they said their farewells.

If it was Fuji, he'd be back for his Captain at dawn the next day, anyway. Of course, there was plenty to be said about making people wait, and Fuji was always sure to use these techniques on Tezuka at any given opportunity. Hence the reason he'd been so reluctant to place a phone call all the way to Germany.

Sanada looked uncomfortably between Fuji and Yukimura.

"I should get going," he said stiffly, looking at Yukimura as though he might bow to him before hurrying out of the room, brushing Fuji's elbow as he left. He gave Fuji an indignant look of mild disgust as if Fuji had reached out to touch him, and Fuji merely returned a smile.

Sauntering into the room, Fuji didn't bother to wait for a greeting from Yukimura. He pulled the chair nearer to Yukimura's bed, for Sanada had been sitting on the bed itself. Interesting. In Yukimura's absence, he'd given the team to Sanada, but Tezuka wouldn't dare leave his precious team in Fuji's hands.

Tezuka left so little in Fuji's hands, but he had left, Fuji was fairly sure, his heart.

Fuji crossed his legs, smiling pleasantly. "Your team is good."

"They've been following capable instruction," Yukimura responded coolly. There was something in his eyes that Fuji could see only in brief passing-- jealousy, perhaps? Jealousy that he couldn't be there with them? That would make sense.

Fuji merely graced him with a bit of a half-nod.

"You're operation went well, I assume." His assumptions were always right. "I wonder if Tezuka's did. I think he had one this week. You know Tezuka, mm?" Of course Yukimura knew Tezuka. Fuji didn't exactly know Yukimura, but he knew that Tezuka did, and that was enough basis for coming here.

"He did," Yukimura said, rather indifferently. It irritated Fuji that Yukimura could speak so casually about Tezuka, because...

"Did he? Well, I'm glad he let you know, then." He smiled brightly.

"We've corresponded. He says you're a good player. I guess you had an impact on Akaya."

Fuji wondered if Yukimura knew who he was prior to this, or if he just guessed. Did Tezuka have anything to say about him, or did it simply end with him being a 'good player'? So frustrating, it didn't make sense to him! How could Fuji admit that when Tezuka left, he'd ripped Fuji's heart out of his chest to pack in his suitcase?

"I'll play you, sometime."

Normally, Fuji wasn't exactly attached to the computer like some boys his age. Sometimes, though, desperate measures were needed. He sent Tezuka a letter six days ago, so it was certainly far too soon to even consider sending one again. No, couldn't let him think that he missed him.

That wouldn't do at all. It was Tezuka's fault for leaving, and he kept with him all his phone calls and letters and... and anything at all. He would only contact Oishi.

And Yukimura, apparently.

Pulling up his e-mail, there was nothing new from Tezuka. A few from Eiji, but Fuji didn't even bother to click them. He opened a new message right away, and started typing, not that it took very long.

Tezuka was in a lot of pain when he opened his laptop to check his e-mail. It had been so long since he'd heard a word from Fuji at all, so he spent every minute he could, carrying out the damn infuriating task of waiting. He couldn't take it anymore.

Still, he was shocked to see his inbox with a message that wasn't from Oishi.

Tezuka,

I made a date with Yukimura Seiichi today. He says you're doing well.

-Fuji

Tezuka felt much worse, somehow, after reading it.
===

November 2005

Promises

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 18:46:58 GMT

Title: Promises
Author: nil_from_hell
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Warnings: none
Summary: Sirius finds himself alone. Set during OotP.

==========
Sirius trudged up the creaking old stairway and down the dismal hall where his dear mother's portrait warily dozed. She had never been human enough for him to think that even her damned portrait could sleep. The sack clasped tightly in his fingers wriggled fiercely, but it didn't disturb him at all to know that he was carrying a couple of live rats in his left hand. He'd been eating the things, too, at a point in time.

Oh, and he knew this place really wasn't fit for anyone to live in anymore, even prodding open the bedroom door where Buckbeak's nest littered his parents' old bed. It stank in here from an animal caged too long, but Sirius, even still, barely noticed something like that.

No wonder things were so different now.

Climbing onto the bed with Buckbeak, he lay a hand on his head, rousing him gently from sleep, before slipping his entire arms around his neck in a great embrace. Sirius closed his eyes against the feathers armoring the Hippogriff's flesh while the rats chattered loudly in the sack. Buckbeak nuzzled at the sack, nipping at it with his beak as soon as he woke, his ears attuned to their sounds as much as their scent tantalized his nostrils.

Sighing, Sirius dropped the sack open on the bed and let him feast, feeling something akin to a starved man watching from outside a window, although it was just a little past lunch.

So, that was it, he thought, stroking Buckbeak's flank absently. He hadn't wanted to be hopeful at all, but somewhere, he knew he had been, or else this disappointment wouldn't be quite so overwhelming. Well, it's not like this place was fit for a boy like Harry, anyway. Sirius couldn't even stand it. But while he had run away from this place what seemed a hundred years ago, Harry had wanted nothing more than to come and stay. Here.

With him.

It seemed like such a long time since anyone wanted to be anywhere near him. Even Remus... Remus was too important now, too busy for him. Sirius couldn't even leave the damned, stinking house and Remus was out saving the world. And not just that, but... everything! Everything that Sirius said and did just happened to be wrong! Remus didn't even back him up half the time!

Sirius wanted to believe that at least he had Buckbeak, even, but as he watched him tearing apart the rats' flesh, it was obvious what he needed him for, even if he was Sirius' only friend now.

Harry would go back to Hogwarts, and that would be that. If only... if things had been different; he could have raised Harry, could have been the one always there for him. Even if he hadn't been able to escape Azkaban, though, if Harry had been expelled, Sirius could have...

No, because there, Harry would only have felt like a prisoner. Just like Sirius did.

If only Remus would have sought him out. Wondered where he was. Gave up worrying over the blasted Order for five minutes' time and gone to see if Sirius needed him at all. Because Sirius did need him. And Remus promised him-- it was just a stupid promise, it had to be, because neither of them knew that lonely night in the Gryffindor dormitory what strange and cruel fate would alter their lives-- but Remus promised him he'd never be alone again. There was nothing that could be done in Azkaban, although the thought that all that time Remus blamed him for murder still pierced him deeply, but now, now was completely different.

And even still, Sirius found himself alone.
==========

October 2005

Fate

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 18:44:49 GMT

Title: Fate
Fandom: Loveless
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Seimei/Soubi
Warnings: AU, vampirism, glossed-over sex
Summary: Soubi is happy with his fate.

==========
It wasn't exactly peculiar to hear that same subtle rap on the door so late at night, but the fact that Seimei had decided to use the door at all was nearly astounding. Often, Soubi would find Seimei upon him without bothering to knock, or that he was standing outside upon the long balcony that cradled the side of his apartment. No matter which method Seimei chose, however, his movements and actions were always precise and utterly filled with grace.

Upon his arrival, Soubi felt the same as he always did, and moving to greet his beloved wasn't even a choice-- it was an intuitive response. His heart leapt high as the familiar sensation of elation coursed through him, but even at once, his beloved demanded the implicit and yet unspoken law that Soubi would not touch him until he found himself being touched.

It wasn't that touching Seimei was Soubi's only desire, but simply that Seimei had such little use for him, that whatever Soubi was granted, he treasured. Every breath, every sigh, every touch Soubi dragged out from his beloved was a drop of perfection from Seimei, much like Seimei took from him.

Soubi, just like Seimei, needed his beloved to live.

There was never an issue with Seimei being rough with him, even as he shoved Soubi back towards the bed, pulling long, hanging jeans from his body. Every touch was intimate and unique, as he believed Seimei to be his Master, believed that somehow, the two of them were bound by fate. The only thing Seimei saw in him was a beautiful idiocy that forced Soubi to yield his body and his blood blindly, satisfying every aspect of the lust bolting through his veins.

They both were entirely too aware that there was no need for all of the extravagance they accepted between their bodies, no dire requirement for nudity and rough fingers claiming vulnerable skin. It was simply a mortal fervor they both fell prey to, and accepted it, watching it happen like a train wreck. They'd seen the footage a thousand times.

Seimei started-- delicately, Soubi might have said, if he hadn't known that nothing in the world about Seimei could be described with any length of delicacy-- to unwrap the ribbony bindings sealing off the skin reserved for nobody else but him. Of course, there would be questions if anybody was to see beneath, but it was part of the mutual trust they required of one another, and Soubi wore the bandages faithfully.

There should have been threat that Seimei could easily kill him, had Soubi disobeyed, but Soubi couldn't ever fear his beloved, not like that, no matter what Seimei desired of him. His only fear of Seimei was simply due to respect.

Pieces of Soubi were falling apart even as Seimei bound him together again, touches and lips and hands growing rougher, piecing together beauty so vivid, especially at the point of penetration where Soubi fell completely a captured slave, tied to Seimei by his fate.

That part was always the same, the rest that followed, as Seimei let his body move harder against Soubi's, clutching at him violently, and it was dangerous-- so dangerous!-- Soubi was so well aware, that even as Seimei sunk razor-sharp fangs deep beneath his skin, it would be so easy to tear open his throat and be rid of him, his indelicate plaything.

But Soubi always believed that to be the beauty of an invariable fate: they were both so necessary, that even though he gave himself up completely for his beloved, Seimei needed him all the same.

He was Seimei's life, so it only made sense that Seimei was his love.
===

September 2005

The Gift

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 09:48:08 GMT

Title: The Gift
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Soubi/Ritsuka
Warnings: I'm gonna go with... none.
Summary: Ritsuka gives Soubi a gift.

note 1: birthday fic for merith.

==========
Soubi was working hard. It was strange, because Soubi usually didn't put so much of himself into a painting. He loved it, that was clear, loved making art, loved creating, but Ritsuka always knew that Soubi didn't believe in himself enough to do anything about it, and no matter how much Ritsuka encouraged Soubi's artistic performance, Soubi wouldn't develop the self-confidence necessary.

So much for listening to what Ritsuka said.

While Soubi painted, completely absorbed in it, Ritsuka started on his homework, because if he had tried to do it another time when Soubi was less preoccupied, he never would have been able to finish a single math problem. But he didn't like math, so he didn't want to do it in the first place. Having Soubi's lack of help wouldn't have been exactly ideal.

It was way too strange, though, sitting against the wall and doing homework and having Soubi act entirely as though Ritsuka wasn't even nearby.

At one point, Soubi just stopped his work to merely stare at the canvas, and Ritsuka was worried that something was wrong, because sometimes Soubi was like night and day, and even though they'd been together for over a year now, and Ritsuka was at his apartment so often that he very nearly lived with him, it was more than difficult to read Soubi's moods.

In fact, there were far too many things Ritsuka didn't understand about Soubi, that he didn't even know.

He set down his homework, watching Soubi watching his painting, as if expecting it to do something amazing without his brush even touching it. It didn't really work that way. Ritsuka wished his homework would work that way, but sometimes he didn't really care about doing his homework at all.

"Ritsuka," Soubi pleaded suddenly, though his tone somehow seemed blank. Somehow, Ritsuka could tell that an underlying trickle of excitement and interest was trying to break through, but it seemed as though, at the same time, Soubi just discovered that Ritsuka was there, sitting up against the wall.

He seemed a blank.

"What?" Ritsuka asked cautiously, scooting his notebook out of the way, the metal rings of the binding scraping grittily against the floor.

"Come look."

Scrambling up from the floor, Ritsuka couldn't read Soubi's tone at all, and he brushed off his pant legs. The painting... wasn't very good, actually. Not by Soubi's standards, at least. Ritsuka thought it was fabulous, but there wasn't any way Soubi would like something like this, right? It was very, very rare that Soubi was pleased with his own work, and something like this wouldn't gain his approval.

It was, of course, another butterfly.

Ritsuka couldn't help looking from Soubi to the canvas and back at Soubi again. What did Soubi want? He wouldn't listen if Ritsuka told him that it was good, but...

Soubi was looking at him expectantly, maybe, but Ritsuka didn't really know. Why? He should have known and understood everything about Soubi! Soubi was... Soubi was the most important person in his universe, wasn't he? He definitely was, so Ritsuka should definitely know everything about him!

Soubi smiled at him, though.

"You don't like it, do you? Ritsuka? Neither do I."

He should have known everything about him.

"What? No, it's good..." But Soubi didn't like it.

"Tell me the truth, Ritsuka." Soubi was still smiling, and Ritsuka couldn't understand. Why was he like this? And why was he closing in on Ritsuka, leaning down to put his arms around him, hiding his face from him at the same time? Why did he kiss Ritsuka's forehead, and his neck, and his shoulder, and why did he say things that were different from the way his face looked? Maybe Ritsuka would never understand, but he was starting to like it. Well, maybe he had started to like it a long time ago.

But he wanted to know everything.

"When's your birthday, Soubi?" He even wanted to know the little things. All of them.

Soubi pulled away, and looked at him curiously, as if he hadn't ever heard those words in his life, leaving Ritsuka wondering what he had possibly said wrong.

"What do you mean?" Soubi blinked, and Ritsuka had no answer. A birthday, his birthday. What was it? "Ritsuka. I don't have one."

"Of course you do," Ritsuka protested. It wasn't like Soubi was born out of nowhere. He was born sometime. "You were born! You're not like those... those Zeros, right? You're human. So you were born!"

A bit of a smile flitted across Soubi's lips, but it seemed bitter. Ritsuka didn't like it, and wanted to know why, but there was too much he didn't know about Soubi and too much that Soubi wouldn't tell him, and he hated it, because he needed every detail about Soubi. Just needed them all!

"Seimei asked me, once. Ritsuka. I don't have one. At least, I don't know what it is. Sensei always told me how old I was. He might know."

Glaring, Ritsuka just couldn't help putting his arms around Soubi. He had been so sheltered and hurt all his life, needed to just break free. Soubi didn't really believe he was human, did he?

Of course not. Soubi believed only that he was a tool. Nothing else. No matter how Ritsuka tried, he couldn't make Soubi understand that he was a person.

"You can have mine."

Soubi seemed confused, but more than happy to have Ritsuka touching him, so he folded Ritsuka up in his arms, too, even kissed his face. "Ritsuka?" he asked, puzzled.

"I said you can have mine. December twenty-first, okay? We'll celebrate it together."

It seemed at first that Soubi was just confused, but then Ritsuka thought that maybe he was happy, because he even lowered himself to his knees so that Ritsuka could reach him better, so that they could hold each other more easily, and Ritsuka's head was actually above Soubi's that way, which was strange... But then he started chuckling!

"What's so funny?"

"I can't take your birthday, Ritsuka," Soubi laughed, kissing Ritsuka's nose. But Ritsuka didn't like being treated childishly.

"You can. I'm giving it to you. Besides," Ritsuka added, scowling a little bit, "we already share a name, right? So we can share a birthday, too." He lifted his hand to put it in Soubi's hair, blindly searching for the name on the back os Soubi's head, just at his hairline.

"I see. You're giving this to me?" Soubi looked at him, and then seemed as though he might just break from happiness, suddenly. It was... it was kind of strange! Soubi seemed so happy, and Ritsuka liked it, because Ritsuka made it that way.

"Aa, that's right," Ritsuka agreed, looking at Soubi firmly.

Soubi looked at the clock, then, all of a sudden seeming a bit panicked. "December twenty-first. Ritsuka. Isn't that tomorrow?" It was already nine o'clock at night. Soon he'd have to be home for his curfew. In fact, he was already cutting it close if he wanted to be home on time.

Really, he should just have stayed with Soubi, always. They belonged together, anyway.

When Ritsuka nodded in agreement, Soubi grinned widely, scooping Ritsuka tightly into his arms, pulling him against his chest, kissing him, his face, his head, his ears, his nose, his lips...

"Happy birthday, Ritsuka," Soubi breathed against his skin.

"Not yet!" But even still, Ritsuka couldn't help smiling. Nobody ever celebrated his birthday. Seimei did, sort of, the last couple of years, but before that, Ritsuka didn't know.

"I want to be the first to tell you, though. I love you, Ritsuka. Happy birthday."

Ritsuka leaned in, and he kissed Soubi on the lips, so innocently, so briefly, but it... it was powerful. He could feel it. Really feel it.

"Happy birthday, Soubi."
===

September 2005

Pieces

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 09:45:49 GMT

Title: Pieces
Fandom: Loveless
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Soubi/Ritsuka
Warnings: fluff-ish
Summary: Soubi has a surprise.
note: for merith.

==========
There had been a fight a few days earlier. Of course, Soubi wouldn't ever let his beloved Sacrifice get a scratch, couldn't bear to hurt Ritsuka at all, ever. It was just too painful, and Ritsuka was too innocent to see into Soubi's world of pain.

Sometimes, Soubi couldn't help forgetting that Ritsuka was already submerged in his own darkness.

There had been a fight a few days earlier. The other pair was strong, but not so strong. It was easy for Soubi to finish them. It was easy for Soubi to leave them nearly dead.

Seimei would have told him to eliminate them entirely.

Ritsuka, on the other hand, was merciful, a trait that Soubi didn't quite understand. Ritsuka never wanted anybody to die in a fight, didn't even want to fight in the first place. He shouldn't have to, but it was the way of things, and Ritsuka got so angry when he fought alone, even though he was only protecting him. He only wanted to protect Ritsuka, ever.

There had been a fight a few days earlier. Ritsuka had been sulking ever since, not even answering his phone when Soubi called, and ordered him not to meet him outside of school until Ritsuka said he was allowed to again. Sometimes, though, Soubi liked to push the limit, and do things even without permission.

Seimei would have punished him.

Then again, there had been a fight a few days earlier, and he'd let the other pair keep their lives. Ritsuka's word was law, overruling Seimei's lessons.

He showed up outside of Ritsuka's school without permission because every text message and every single call was being ignored, and life without Ritsuka was dark and empty, even though he had someone like Kio in his life, more than willing to try and brighten it up.

Once he had a taste of Ritsuka, he couldn't get enough. He needed to be with him, all the time, more and more, just couldn't take it, needed him so much...

He leaned up against the wall outside Ritsuka's school and waited for the bell to ring. It seemed like hours, but probably was only a short while, until finally students were piling out onto the school grounds. Soubi didn't have to watch for Ritsuka, because he knew Ritsuka would walk right past him.

In fact, Yuiko ran up to Soubi, giggling.

"Soubi-san! Hi, Soubi-san! Look, Ritsuka, he came to get you again. I had no idea where he's been," she wondered aloud, swishing her tail excitedly.

Soubi smiled, but it wasn't usually his business to deal with Yuiko. That was Ritsuka's job.

"Ritsuka," Soubi said, taking Ritsuka's hand, despite the cold glare his Sacrifice was shooting him, "I have a surprise for you. Let's go."

Yayoi perked up at the thought of Ritsuka being dragged away from Yuiko, and he showed it, but Yuiko was pouting, and... Soubi didn't care at all. Not about them, besides that they were Ritsuka's friends. There was only one person that was important to him. Ritsuka. His whole world, his universe.

"Soubi! Let go of me!" Ritsuka snapped, trying to pull his arm away roughly, but Soubi's hand was firm on him, and Soubi was smiling.

Touching Ritsuka was enough.

"Soubi! I said let go! We were going to the park! Why don't you ever listen to me?!

"I have a surprise for you," Soubi told him again, smiling down at him as he took Ritsuka back to his apartment, not without a bit of a struggle.

Before opening the door, he gave Ritsuka a sort of warning look. This would perplex him only for a moment, because after Soubi poked his head in the door, he opened it enough for he and Ritsuka to both squeeze in.

"Surprise," Soubi said, smiling. He hoped Ritsuka would be pleased.

The little black puppy was gnawing on the leg of his desk, though. Soubi frowned; it shouldn't do that. The people at the pet store told him to keep the puppy in a cage while Soubi wasn't around, but he just couldn't bear to keep a living thing caged up like that.

Ritsuka stared at it in wonder, looking at Soubi hesitantly.

"It's... he's... for me?"

Soubi nodded, anxious and excited, because Ritsuka seemed to approve. Maybe. Carefully, Ritsuka approached the puppy, getting down on his knees and holding out his hand. Immediately the little dog ignored Soubi's desk and tried to climb his way right up Ritsuka's legs.

And Ritsuka was grinning wider than Soubi had ever seen as he scooped the puppy up into his arms.

"Soubi," he said, looking suddenly worried, "Mom won't let me have a dog..."

"I know." Soubi came to kneel down next to Ritsuka on the floor, running two fingers over the dog's back. "He'll stay with me." Until you come to live with me, he added silently. "What's his name?"

Quickly, Ritsuka's eyes flicked toward the bandage covering Soubi's throat. Somehow, Soubi was sure Ritsuka's first choice for a name would be Seimei.

"Beloved," Ritsuka answered, looking Soubi in the eye.

"Beloved, hm?" Soubi smiled softly, running his fingers through Ritsuka's hair, over his ears, "That's a good name."

There had been a fight a few days earlier. Ritsuka had been upset with him, but Soubi was learning fast how to pick up broken pieces.
===

August 2005

Smile

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 09:44:23 GMT

Title: Smile
Fandom: Ico
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairings: Ico, Yorda
Warnings: spoilers for the end of the game

==========
She smiled at him. Ico looked down at her in wonder when she did it, but she smiled at him. The entire time they spent together in that castle, every second, he had watched her, guarded her, protected her, and it felt like years, maybe, that they'd spent together, even though it was merely a matter of days.

Not once did she smile.

That castle was a prison. Those demons, those shadows that bound her to her fate, to the castle walls, she had grown with them as long as she lived. They were as much a part of her as waking and sleeping. How could a person ever find happiness, living that way? Ico had to wonder if Yorda had ever smiled before.

She sat up on her knees, still smiling at him, and she said something, but he couldn't understand. More than anything, he wished to understand, but never... not even a word. He'd learned alright that her name was Yorda, but even still, he couldn't say it the same way as she did; it seemed to just glide from her lips. She was speaking to him, smiling at him, and she lifted her hand, running them over the stubs of horns he once had.

The reason he was shunned, the reason he was evil, the reason he was unwanted. He was thrown into the castle to die, only because of his horns, and he came out of the castle alive, his horns left behind on the ground, soaked in his own blood. Those were the signs, the very proof of his own life.

Yorda's hands were on them, and she wasn't smiling anymore.

But Ico was. "Will you smile again?" he asked, knowing she couldn't understand a word he said, and she was only looking at him, concerned. Maybe, in time... maybe she could understand. Maybe Ico could.

Ico lifted his small, clumsy hands, even though they were wet with the salt water that was soaking up their legs, their feet, and he reached out for Yorda's face. She flinched, just a little bit, but she allowed him to touch her face, pulling up the corners of her lips.

It wasn't nearly as beautiful as when she did it on her own, but Ico smiled at her, wondering if she even knew what a smile even meant.

She said something, and a smile spread over her face. She even laughed! Ico had never heard something more precious.

They were alive!

Ico stood up on the sand, right in the surf where he found Yorda, and he held out his hand, waiting to feel her small, fragile hand in his again. He'd gotten used to it being there lately, and so had she, maybe, because she reached up for him right away, and he pulled her to his feet.

She smiled at him, and suddenly it didn't matter if they spoke the same language.
===

August 2005

Rain

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 09:43:06 GMT

Title: Rain
Fandom: Loveless
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairings: Soubi/Ritsuka
Warnings: angst, sort of.
Summary: Soubi helps Ritsuka make a memory.
note: for liz_sumeragi.

==========
He had left Kio's apartment suddenly, even though Kio had jumped up, demanding to know where he was going in such a hurry. Kio couldn't ever possibly understand, because Kio was in love with him. It made him close his eyes to the obvious. For instance, that Soubi obviously belonged to Ritsuka.

His feet were carrying him quickly, even though it was raining, and he could slide through the water if he wasn't careful, but it didn't matter if he was careful with himself or not; it was his job as a tool to protect his Sacrifice, not himself.

Somehow, calling a cab seemed like it would only delay him. But he hadn't even the slightest clue what the matter was! It was just this sharp, sudden sense of pain. It didn't hurt, but he could feel that it did hurt...

Ritsuka. It had to be Ritsuka. It was pouring down rain, but he could feel that it was Ritsuka. Somewhere... ah, but his feet were carrying him home, weren't they? What would he do if Ritsuka wasn't there?

It didn't matter. He had to be there.

His phone was ringing, but there was no way he could be bothered to answer it; the ring tone wasn't the one Soubi had set for Ritsuka, so it was an unimportant call, no matter what. It was probably just Kio.

Racing up the stairs to his apartment-- dammit, why did he have to live on the top floor?-- he slipped on the stairs twice, but he caught himself. He had to, after all! He had to find Ritsuka.

And there he was, at the top of the steps. Just sitting there next to Soubi's door, huddled up into himself in a torn shirt, a gash across his left cheek. There were traces of blood on his skin, but the rain had mostly washed it all away. Raindrops were still trickling down over his ears, over his face.

Soubi had him in his arms and the door open before Ritsuka even knew he was there.

"Soubi," Ritsuka murmured, slightly irritated at being carried, but Soubi could tell that he couldn't bring himself to protest too much. It was kind of cute, in such an unfortunate way, how Ritsuka's tail hung down loosely, dripping wet. Soubi carried him right to bed, without caring at all about the sheets getting wet, and he got Ritsuka another blanket.

"It's okay. Ritsuka. I'm here now."

It was still raining outside later, but Soubi had made hot chocolate for them both, and they were warm together sitting up in blankets in Soubi's bed. When Ritsuka fell asleep on Soubi's pillow, Soubi reached for his sketchpad, and he drew Ritsuka, sitting all alone in the rain.
===

August 2005

Serendipity

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 09:41:41 GMT

Title: Serendipity
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: None
Warnings: young!Soubi angst, Ritsu-sensei
Summary: Soubi discovers meaning.
note: for presencedear.

==========
Sitting on the bed, Soubi just stared at the wall. He couldn't move, and the thought of doing anything besides just sitting there, just staring, it just hurt too much. His whole body was sore, run down from today's lessons. It was easy to say that he preferred written lessons to physical ones.

Everything hurt. Even his ears hurt. He lifted his hand to run his fingers over one of his ears, but his arm was leaden, and moving it was far too much for him to handle. Sensei had yanked his ears.

Soubi told him not to. Soubi told him that those belonged to his Sacrifice. Soubi was thoroughly punished for his defiance.

A Fighter must not disobey, ever. Not for any reason. But Sensei wasn't his Sacrifice!

There wasn't anything interesting about the wall he was staring at. They were the same walls he had seen his entire life, locked up in this room. The only other place he ever was allowed to see was Sensei's office. To that, he much preferred his own room, even through the extreme temperature changes, the long periods of darkness he was subjected to.

It was all part of his training. He had to protect his Sacrifice at all costs.

There were papers on the floor, written assignments. They were finished. And Sensei was done with him for now, probably. Though, Sensei had started coming in to watch him, started getting too close to him, so that Soubi was afraid to even shut his eyes.

Exhausted entirely, but terrified of sleeping, Soubi reached down to pick up a paper from the floor, and a pencil lying next to it. It hurt to move, but he couldn't let himself sleep, and this was all he knew, so he started to stroke the dull lead tip across the back side of the paper. He didn't have to know what he was drawing, because he always drew the same thing.

This time, though, the butterflies were flying free, while Soubi was pinned to the wall. It was okay, because he was glad to set the butterflies free. Beautiful things shouldn't be stuck with pins for display. He couldn't ever draw himself well, though, because he never had seen his own face before. After all, there was no mirror in his room, but he'd seen his own muddled reflection in bath water.

Just as he was finishing the drawing, the lights went out. Soubi never had any idea how long he'd have to sit in the darkness, but he was always afraid to move. He dropped the paper and pencil to the floor and drew his legs up onto the bed. There wasn't any way to tell how long he was sitting alone in the darkness before he heard the distinct click of the lock, the door opening.

The only person ever to enter through that door was Sensei. But it was dark. Soubi couldn't see him. He panicked, and wanted to push himself farther into the corner of the bed so that maybe Sensei couldn't find him, but the terror of moving was too much, like he had no idea where he even was.

Rusty mattress springs creaked, and lowered, and he could smell Sensei, far too near to him. Soubi shivered.

"Soubi-kun."

He could even feel Sensei's breath on his skin. Closing his eyes made no difference at all; no matter what, the darkness was overwhelming. All part of his training, though.

"I met your Sacrifice today."

Soubi's breath caught in his chest, not only because Sensei's fingers were touching his ears, but because the thought of his Sacrifice, somebody so beautiful, so pure, so perfect... His Sacrifice should never have to be anywhere near Sensei!

Soubi had to protect him.

"Is he beautiful?" Soubi dared to ask, but wasn't sure at all how he knew his Sacrifice would be male. He just would be, and that's all there was to it.

He could hear Sensei chuckling, could almost feel it, feel the vibrations in the air, and he wished he could run away from here, find his Sacrifice...

"He's perfect."

Perfect. Soubi's Sacrifice was perfect. Soubi nodded, even though Sensei couldn't see him. His Sacrifice was perfect.

Suddenly, his training had a purpose.
===

August 2005

Beloved, Part 2

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 01:46:48 GMT

Title: Beloved
Fandom: Loveless
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairings: Seimei/Soubi, Soubi/Kio, Soubi/Ritsuka eventually
Warnings: A tad bit of glossed-over sex, but really? No.
Summary: Kio is far closer to the situation than Soubi know. AU, Loveless universe.

Part Two
==========
Everywhere was going to be crowded. He knew that, but it didn't stop him from heading off to find a space to work, anyway. There was no point in going back to his apartment when he had another class in an hour. A much more interesting class than Art History, at any rate. Maybe Soubi would show up, after rushing out so quickly earlier. Probably not.

Kio was restless. Crowded spaces weren't good enough places to work in. He very much preferred to work with Soubi, somewhere quiet, just the two of them. If only he knew where Soubi ran off to... But it was that Seimei who called. He already hurt Soubi last night! What did he want now, to call Soubi back and look over the marks he made with pride?

That bastard was sick.

He couldn't help walking right past the public work stations, even though there were projects he should have been starting. And they were all planned out. Kio always painted in his head before daring to spread his mind on the canvas. Stepping outside the building, he leaned against a corner, squinting against the sun. It was a nice day. Shame Soubi wasn't around to enjoy it.

Damn that Soubi! Where was he?!

Sighing, Kio pulled out his phone and dialed Soubi's number quickly, forgetting, as usual, that it was number one on the speed dial. Sometimes, Kio just had to go and make things harder for himself. It just rang and rang. Of course Soubi was too busy with Seimei to pick up. Like Kio was ever worth his time.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Kio was walking around the campus. It would be nice to live in one of these dorms. It was nice just to get to go to this school, though, so he was plenty thankful for that, even if his apartment was a little too far away from his classrooms for his liking. Besides, it really kind of sucked taking projects to and from school if they were big. It sucked even more dragging art supplies there and back every day in his bag because the student supply never had anything he needed.

Usually he just worked at home. Usually he would ask Soubi to come over and work with him, or he'd go and invade Soubi's apartment, arms laden with work and supplies. That was a trek he didn't mind making since it was time he could spend with Soubi.

Soubi. Kio called his phone again, even though he didn't expect an answer. Then again, why should he expect to be permitted to waste Soubi's time?

He was taking a nice tour around the campus when he could have been doing something a damn sight more productive. He thought he might have missed out on an assignment from the professor at the end of Art History, but that didn't really matter. Even though he was a serious student, he wasn't a huge fan of writing or researching or any of that! Art school was for doing art, anyway. Maybe Soubi would care about the assignment and talk to the professor. Then Kio could make it up, too.

It didn't matter, mainly because his name was burning on his skin. Hot, like a thousand needles searing into him. Ever since Soubi... that morning... If only Soubi was his Sacrifice! Everything would be perfect, and there wouldn't be anybody he'd need to leave Soubi for. Soubi should have been his. Maybe... maybe there was a mistake.

He shouldn't have been thinking that way, though. There wasn't any way. Besides, he had seen Soubi naked a thousand times, and there wasn't any name on his body! Somewhere, his Sacrifice probably knew he was being disloyal. Silently, Kio apologized, hoping that in some way, he could be forgiven. But he loved Soubi. Loved Soubi more than anything.

He loved Soubi, and suddenly, his name wasn't burning so fiercely. Suddenly, he missed the sharpness of it, the longing, the desperation, in such need of his Sacrifice. He could have been anywhere. Kio brushed his fingers over his name, silently praying that it hadn't faded away again.

When they met, Kio knew, it would be bold, always, it would always be there, prominent on his skin. He couldn't wait. Was it even possible to love somebody more than he loved Soubi?

The time on his phone was edging too close to the time his next class was supposed to start. Of course, it was Soubi's next class, too! He called Soubi, not really expecting any answer-- useful, since he didn't receive one-- and headed to his next class.

When he arrived, class had already started, and Soubi wasn't there. Kio tried to shake the feeling that it was entirely useless to stay; Soubi shouldn't be the center of his life, no matter how much he loved him.

The class went by too slowly as he touched the skin beneath his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt.

===

Even though Soubi refused to answer his phone, Kio couldn't help calling. After class, he must have called two dozen times, and even during class he sent him three text messages. It wasn't fair to leave Kio all alone, anyway, especially after he stocked up Soubi's house with food and bandaged him all up. Really was not fair. Seimei was obviously the most important thing in the whole damn world, though.

Every time Kio felt his name teasing his skin with its undeniable presence, he wondered what it would be like if Soubi was his Sacrifice. His skin practically itched there, sprawled over his collarbone, and he kept getting up to stare at it in the bathroom mirror.

He had never felt it like this before. Maybe it was time. It seemed too much to hope for, after all this waiting. His Sacrifice... it seemed like merely a dream.

There was a canvas on the floor in front of him, and instead of his current school project, Kio had already painted Soubi, in black paint, with a thin, hard-bristled brush. It's just an outline, really. He and Soubi have done sketch after drawing after painting of each other. It never got old. But Soubi wasn't even here modeling for him.

And his name was aching dully on his chest.

His name.

He touched it, just through his shirt, and then... that wasn't enough. He had to slide his hand up, running his fingers over the skin there. But still, he needed... Kio pulled his shirt off, throwing it on the floor, so he could touch his name, so he could see it with his own eyes. Not as bright as it was when he had looked at school earlier, but it hadn't faded away. Not faded like it had been for so long.

To be honest, he thought that maybe his Sacrifice died. He thought that maybe that was what enabled him to be so in love with Soubi. But his name was back, bold. There wasn't any way to deny it anymore. His fingers smudged some paint on his skin, touching it, blurring it a little, but there wasn't any way to escape it.

Kio didn't want to escape it!

His Sacrifice. Would he be beautiful? Would he be perfect? In theory, he should be. But Kio looked down at the canvas on the floor before him, looking over Soubi, lying on the floor even on the fabric, and he was something Kio created there, but he was still beautiful. Leaning closer, so that he had to hold himself up with a hand on the edge of the canvas, he reached beside him, dipping two fingers of his other hand in an open jar of paint. Red paint. And he touched his fingers to Soubi's body on the canvas, slowly writing his name in red letters over his skin.

His name. Just the way it looked on Kio's chest. If only, and then Soubi would be entirely perfect. Soubi would be his, would stop ignoring him for that Seimei.

Kio hated Seimei, but he could feel his name burning, and he kept stroking it over Soubi's skin, almost able to believe it was real. Soubi was beautiful. Soubi fully deserved to be Kio's Sacrifice.

Even though the paint was wet, he leaned forward, lying down on the canvas in a phantom of Soubi's arms.

His name was smudged all over his skin.

===

Something was beeping, and it woke him up pretty damn quickly. Something was... it was his phone. Well, of course Soubi wasn't going to even message him until Kio fell asleep! Groaning, Kio pulled himself up into a sitting position, realizing that his chest and arms were smeared with color.

As he flipped open his phone, Kio looked at his name, and he grinned.

Soubi's message was disappointing, after waiting so long for it, being so persistent about it.

Kio. You shouldn't call so much. Seimei was angry.

Well, fuck that Seimei! At least Kio treated Soubi well, saw him for how beautiful he really was, loved him! That Seimei treated him like shit!

But this message still meant something. It meant that Seimei was gone, and that Kio was free to pester Soubi all he wanted, and Kio would do just that, without even washing the paint from his body. It wasn't necessary. If he left it there, he bore the hope that Soubi would make him sweat it off.

All he did was pull on his shirt and slide his phone back into his pocket. Soubi didn't care what he looked like, anyway. The only thing important in Soubi's world was Seimei.

===

Soubi was in a good mood, along with being unharmed; Kio always worried about Soubi being injured every single time he found out that Soubi was with Seimei. It had been a sudden call out of class, so Kio had no idea at all what would happen. It was strange, and relieving, but Soubi was in a good mood.

Often, Soubi's good moods worked in Kio's favor, because when Soubi was in a good mood, Kio usually ended up in Soubi's bed.

When Soubi's hand slid beneath his shirt, Kio remembered that his name was there, bright, and that Soubi would see, Soubi would wonder, but it wouldn't matter, maybe, because Soubi would have no idea. In his head, Kio knew that nobody but his Sacrifice should be allowed to see his name. It didn't matter, especially because Soubi's fingers and lips were touching the smudges of paint left over on his skin.

And when Soubi pulled Kio's shirt off of him all the way, he found his name to be faded again, and it was perfectly fine to give himself over to Soubi, to be desperate, to let Soubi taste his skin, to run his hands through Soubi's hair, kissing him, needing him desperately, to feel Soubi above him, pushing down on him from above so that Kio was inside him, moving...

Kio thought of his Sacrifice, and how it should only be him.
===

August 2005

Bound

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 01:45:55 GMT

Title: Bound
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Soubi/Ritsuka
Warnings: none, I think.
Summary: More than one kind of tie can bind.
note: for merith's request in fic_on_demand.

==========
Soubi was breathing hard, and his limbs all felt like lead, like it was far too difficult to even dream of moving one foot in front of the other. Something inside of him was far too deeply shaken to even contemplate thinking; the only thing apparent to him was that he needed to walk, to run, to get away.

Once, Seimei had promised he would never have to see Sensei again. That didn't matter, though, because Seimei's promises equated fairly well with Sensei's promises.

Sensei only made promises that benefited himself.

Why weren't his feet carrying him any faster? The Institute. He shouldn't have to have been here. There was no reason he had to see Sensei. There were too many stairs, too many obstacles in the way of getting out. Supposedly, he was free years ago. He was, wasn't he?

Soubi didn't even realize he was clutching his phone so tightly in his sweaty palm that it almost slipped out of his fingers until it chimed. Ritsuka. It was Ritsuka's ring tone. Everything froze while Soubi flipped his phone open.

Don't tell me you're fine. That's an order. I'm waiting outside.

Outside. Ritsuka was outside. Soubi's first instinct was a pure and desperate need to be with Ritsuka but... Ritsuka shouldn't have been anywhere near there!

Get away from here, Ritsuka! he begged mentally, not even thinking to message back, because his feet had broken into a run, down the stairs, all of them, skipping as many as he could. Ritsuka. He had to get to Ritsuka.

Had to protect Ritsuka.

He barely noticed the doors at all when he shoved them open to get outside to Ritsuka. Ritsuka. Waiting there unharmed. Ritsuka was alright.

Roughly, desperately, Soubi grabbed his hand, walking so fast and pulling Ritsuka along, that his short legs could barely keep up at all. But Soubi could barely breathe, couldn't feel or think except for the absolute need to protect Ritsuka at all costs.

They were a few blocks away when Soubi finally deemed it safe to slow down, to even stop, right there on the sidewalk, to look down at Ritsuka, to look him over. To just pull Ritsuka into his arms and never let go, and Ritsuka allowed it.

"Soubi," Ritsuka protested quietly, but he even lifted his own arms, putting them around Soubi's waist. "It... it hurts me when you hurt."

For just a moment, Soubi's breath caught, and he could do nothing but pull Ritsuka closer, the tiniest of smiles breaking out on his lips. Through the pain, it was okay, because Ritsuka... Ritsuka was starting to feel. Ritsuka could really feel his pain. And he never, ever wanted to hurt Ritsuka, but more than anything, he wanted this bond between them.

Completely overwhelmed, he knelt down on the pavement right there, pushing away any trace of pain, because Ritsuka should never have to feel it, and he pulled Ritsuka into his arms, kissing his cheek softly.

"I love you, Ritsuka."
===

August 2005

Only A Kiss

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 01:45:08 GMT

Title: Only a Kiss
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairings: Kio/Soubi, Soubi/Seimei
Warnings: Not any, really...

==========
"Ooh, that's really nice!"

Soubi blinked, his brush coming to a halt on the canvas. It wasn't his best work. Not at all. But then again, he hated most of his paintings, because he hated the butterflies that infiltrated the surface in front of him without his permission.

A shadow covered this particular butterfly, though, so Soubi turned, looking up at whoever was intruding on his work time.

"Yeah, I was talking to you," the boy said with a wink, "That butterfly is so good. Like it's just gonna fly away!"

Soubi wasn't quite sure what to make of him, so he stared at him for a moment, as if dissecting him.

"Most of them are better," he replied finally, frowning. What was appropriate in this situation? Should he stand up and greet this person? Introduce himself? There wasn't any sure answer he was certain of, so he settled on turning and going back to work. There wasn't any point finishing this, but it didn't matter. Nothing would ever come out the way it was supposed to.

"Most of them?" The boy was curious, and sat down on the floor on the other side of the painting, opposite of Soubi. His glasses were too big for his face, and there were a few metal rings protruding from each of his ears. Including his cat ears. Even his tail had a few piercings. But it was unusual, wasn't it, for a college student to still be a virgin.

It might be nice.

He was interested in Soubi's art, so Soubi was completely lost on the proper reaction. This person confused him, and yet, nothing was wrong with him. Soubi looked at him again, and liked the way he smiled.

"I always paint butterflies."

The way colour clouded the water when he swirled his brush inside caught his eyes for a moment, thoughtful, and this boy was watching his hand as it moved the brush through the water.

Soubi didn't understand. He couldn't paint with this person watching him, but he didn't seem to have any intention of leaving him alone. The strange thing was that Soubi didn't seem to mind his presence.

There hadn't ever been any friends in Soubi's life. There wasn't anybody he talked to in order to fulfill basic human sociability. It wasn't something he required. He talked to Seimei, but he wasn't allowed to say things to Seimei all the time, and Seimei didn't necessarily always want to speak to him.

A strange situation lay before him.

He studied Soubi's work like a masterpiece was lying on the ground there, and Soubi couldn't understand why, had no idea what to say, just kept swirling the brush in the water.

"Hmm. I'd like to see more of them," he finally said, still staring at Soubi's work. "My name's Kio, by the way."

Kio. Soubi hadn't ever really introduced himself to anybody before. There never had been a need to. Seimei knew about him before he knew him.

"I am Agatsuma Soubi."

It might have been right, or it might have been wrong. Either way, it was new. It was a beginning.

===

"Soubi! What's your problem! You've got absolutely nothing to eat here! No wonder you're so damn skinny!"

Soubi sighed and sunk down a little bit further in his bath water. It was hot. It was relaxing. Kio was there again, and somehow, even though he was loud and demanding, something about Kio was relaxing, too. Soubi certainly didn't mind his presence.

Suddenly, Kio invited himself right into Soubi's bathroom while Soubi was naked in the tub. All Soubi did was lay his head back against the edge and look up at Kio, and Kio seemed surprised that Soubi wasn't startled, but Kio was completely comfortable, either way.

Kio was always comfortable, and if he wasn't, he made a situation which he derived comfort from.

"Are you listening to me, Soubi?" Kio's pout was cute, and Soubi didn't mind that at the same time, there were eyes sneaking a peak or two at his body. There wasn't anything worthwhile about his body, so there wasn't anything to conceal.

Running a hand through his hair, Soubi smiled. "No."

"Uggh... Sou~bi! Why don't you have any food here, I said! Am I going to have to take care of you?" With his hands on his hips and his glasses sliding down his nose, Kio could have passed for a parent, or perhaps a teacher, but he just seemed so innocent. Kio was pure, even though he tried to taint his purity with little bits and rings of metal.

"Kio. Do those hurt?"

For a moment Kio just stared at Soubi, and then looked himself over, perplexed. But Soubi only watched him, calmly, knowing he didn't need to waste anymore words than that. Words could be precious

"I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark and guess that you're talking about my piercings." His face lit up at once. Apparently, he relished the thought of other people noticing his metal. Soubi didn't quite understand the purpose, but it looked good. "They don't hurt anymore. Why, d'you want some? I could totally hook you up, yanno."

Soubi couldn't help thinking about that. It sounded like it would be nice. If only Seimei would do that to him... What a nice mark that would be on his skin. It couldn't heal if something metal was stuck through it. Would it be sensitive? Would Seimei touch it?

Seimei would never do it, so it didn't matter.

"You do those yourself?" he asked, but at the same time remembered that he was naked, and on of Seimei's marks decorated his skin, a slash across his stomach. Kio shouldn't see that. Making a too-late effort to conceal it, Soubi merely let an arm lay over top of his stomach. Kio already saw it though. It didn't matter.

If Kio insisted on hanging around, he would, most likely, end up seeing much worse.

"Of course I do! I wouldn't let anyone else do it. Not unless they were a damn special anyone else."

Soubi really wanted Seimei to to pierce him.

===

Sometimes it was very frustrating that Soubi couldn't keep Kio away. It was like he just latched onto Soubi and clung for dear life, and Soubi couldn't work his head around that at all. He didn't understand it. Why would somebody want to spend all their time around him?

There were times when Kio shouldn't be around, things that Kio shouldn't have to see. Certainly there was no reason for Kio to take it upon himself to clean up after Seimei. Eventually, even without any sort of attention to his wounds, Soubi would heal fine on his own. It was a quick process. He was a Fighter, and he was perfect; he belonged to Seimei, after all, so he had no choice but to be perfect.

But Kio didn't know that. Kio wasn't allowed. Kio was innocent, even down to the ears still on his head. It seemed that Kio had already been dragged in, had seen too much, and for some reason, Soubi felt such a strong sense of need to keep Kio from experiencing any part of his world. It was just too dirty for someone like Kio to be forced to face.

But Kio was lying next to him on his side, watching Soubi as his eyes kept closing, inching open again, and Kio kept urging him to relax, but Kio's own tail was flicking in agitation-- no, in worry. He'd already bandaged every part of Soubi that could ever need it, despite weak protests, and tried to feed him food that Soubi refused. There was nothing left for him to do. Soubi did not need to have anybody watching over him, but then again, he never had asked Kio to do a thing for him.

"Kio. I should go home," Soubi said blankly, forcing his eyes to stay open long enough to really look at Kio.

Kio was beautiful, so Soubi didn't mind at all when Kio kissed him. He wasn't expecting it, and Seimei couldn't care enough about him to get jealous. Seimei didn't care about him at all, but for some reason, Kio did.

Probably, at first, Soubi didn't even realise that Kio was kissing him. But he parted his lips for Kio, inviting Kio in further. It was a good feeling. Seimei would never give this to him.

When Kio pulled away, he was still lying by Soubi's side, his lips still parted a bit. Beautiful. Soubi was overcome with an urge to draw Kio just like that, with that look on his face, draw the feeling of Kio's hand resting gently, flat on Soubi's chest.

===

Kio was still by Soubi's side in the morning, but both of them were naked, and Soubi's bandages needed changed desperately. Kio's ears were on the pillow, and his tail in the bed next to them, still pierced with various rings and bars, but they weren't part of Kio's body anymore. Seimei wouldn't get jealous, and Kio seemed to be the happiest person in the world.

Soubi always, always liked to see Kio smile. It was something he deserved. Always.

===

Most days, Soubi saw Kio in some way, whether it be at school, or somewhere out to eat, or at one of their apartments. Usually at Soubi's. Seimei found out eventually, and he called Soubi a whore because of it, but that was something Soubi already knew, so it didn't matter if Kio wanted to believe his body was beautiful.

There was a half-painted butterfly lying on the floor, and Kio was sitting on the other side of the canvas, just watching Soubi paint. He would never tire of that, something that greatly confused Soubi. After all, Kio was a much better artist, and much more serious about it.

Tonight, Kio wasn't watching Soubi's hands as they spread out colour into the butterfly. Kio was watching him. He glanced up at Kio, because he wasn't sure why, but he noticed often that Kio was watching him. There was just no understanding him sometimes. People who grew up living normal lives were often regarded as a complete mystery by Soubi.

"I must be boring you." Obviously Kio didn't come to his apartment to watch him paint. Undeniably, they'd end up having sex tonight. It was a habit, now. Maybe Kio was impatient.

"I love you."

Maybe Kio was in love. That wasn't at all something that Soubi could understand, so he looked down, back at his painting, and rinsed his brush in the jar of water next to his canvas. He needed some more green just here...

But Kio was looking at him expectantly. There wasn't any knowing what Soubi was supposed to say. Not what Kio wanted to hear, at any rate.

"Kio. I love Seimei."

It shouldn't have crushed Kio like the look on his face implied, because even before they'd barely known each other, Kio had known that Soubi loved Seimei.

It was over a year ago that Kio had kissed him in bed, since Soubi had burned his ears and buried the ashes. It was only a kiss, but Kio was doing it again, ignoring Soubi's paints all laid out, ignoring the canvas. Soubi didn't hesitate at all to put his hands on Kio's waist, or to touch his face, or to thread his fingers through Kio's hair.

His paints were still laying out, drying up, while Kio nuzzled his head against Soubi's chest, the sheets around their naked bodies.

It was only a kiss. Soubi never could have imagined what would come of it.
===

August 2005

From Now On

Sun, 16 Sep 2007 01:43:54 GMT

Title: From Now On
Fandom: Loveless
Author: nil_from_hell
Pairing: Soubi/Ritsuka
Warnings: very mild sexual references
note: for merith's request in fic_on_demand.

==========
There was something that was bright and even annoying that was pressing against his eyelids. But nothing seemed like a good enough reason to be doing anything about it. Maybe he was still asleep enough to just roll over, face opposite the window. Maybe...

Ritsuka turned over onto his right side, avoiding the light that was desperately trying to creep beneath his eyelashes. If he wasn't already awake enough, he couldn't help snapping into sudden awareness when he realised that, in his own bedroom, avoiding the light would mean turning to lie on his left side.

There was a slight indication that Ritsuka happened to be somewhere other than his own bedroom.

Taking a breath, he let his eyes open and took in... Soubi's apartment. Lying in Soubi's bed. Tangled up in Soubi's sheets. Where Soubi happened to be, Ritsuka wasn't quite sure, but he sat up in bed, letting last night come back to him.

...and it was beautiful, the way that Soubi guided him through it, because Ritsuka wasn't quite certain, wasn't quite ready, but Soubi could see, could understand, and they both wanted this, so even if Ritsuka wasn't entirely sure what would happen, what he would feel, it was okay, it was them, it was all for the sake of this, and they became each others, fully, body and soul and heart and mind, and now nothing, nothing, would ever be able to slide between them...

Slowly, hesitantly, Ritsuka reached up, hands shaking, and ran his fingers back through his hair, over his head. Gone. His ears. Completely gone, as if they'd just disappeared. Strangely, it didn't feel very different. He'd always expected that, if he ever did lose his ears, it would feel so weird that he wouldn't be able to stand it.

Experimentally, Ritsuka tried to swish a tail that wasn't there. Obviously, there was no effect at all, and that was quite strange. Too strange. He was still naked, which hadn't struck him as too odd at first, but he realised quickly that when he dressed, he'd have unnecessary holes in both his underwear and his pants.

He was going to have to shop in the adult section now. The thought was sudden and startling and was leering at him in the corner of his mind. The adult section! But he's only fifteen. What if they don't have things that fit him? But he has been getting so tall lately... Besides, there are a few kids in his class at school that don't have tails, either. Maybe they just sewed up the holes in their old pants.

His class...

What were they going to say? Naturally, they'd... they'd think that he would... with Yuiko... but... What were they going to think when he and Yuiko walked into school together and it clearly wasn't Yuiko who had his ears?

But Soubi had them. His tail, too. And Soubi wasn't in bed with him.

"Soubi," he called out, his voice not too loud, but Soubi was sure to hear him, anyway. It wasn't like the apartment was huge.

Popping his head out from the kitchen, Soubi smiled at Ritsuka.

"I wondered how long you were going to wait to call for me, Ritsuka."

It was only slightly annoying, the way Soubi always acted like he knew everything Ritsuka was thinking and feeling and doing. At the same time, it was still pretty easy to ignore. At the same time, it was kind of nice.

"What are you doing?" Soubi clearly was rather occupied in the kitchen, and whatever he was doing happened to be so important that staying in bed with Ritsuka after... after... after that, and Ritsuka should have been at school, but Soubi didn't wake him up.

What would happen when Ritsuka went home?!

"I'm preserving your ears and tail," Soubi answered him, completely matter-of-fact in his tone, and disappeared completely, back into the kitchen.

Ritsuka could feel his cheeks burning red. Preserving his ears, his tail... What would Soubi do with them? He was glad, though, too. He was completely and entirely satisfied, happy. A new feeling, one that overwhelmed him.

But at the same time...

"Soubi... what's going to happen?!"

Reacting, probably, to the note of panic in Ritsuka's voice, Soubi dropped everything and appeared at Ritsuka's side immediately. His hands touched Ritsuka's face, looking into his eyes.

"Ritsuka. What's wrong?" he asked, so deeply concerned that Ritsuka felt a little guilty for startling him so harshly.

Nothing was wrong, really, but... everything was. Little details just falling apart in his far-from-perfect life.

"Mom's... Mom's going to be mad. And... at school... people will say things. What if I'm not ready for this...? Soubi... what if..."

"Everybody loses their ears eventually Ritsuka," Soubi assured him, smiling, and it struck Ritsuka how truly happy Soubi looked. Almost unnatural. He'd never seen Soubi's smile looking quite like that. "It's natural. Aren't you happy?"

"Yes, but..." There were a thousand things. And really, what if nothing in the adult section fit him? The adult section!

"No 'buts'." Soubi kissed Ritsuka's lips softly, just a reminder of what Ritsuka had, what belonged to him, and especially now, physically. Soubi belonged to him.

"Ritsuka. I love you."

His life was far from perfect, but he had Soubi by his side. Always, from now on. It couldn't be too bad, could it?
===

August 2005