Authors' note: Takes place post Tokyo Babylon, before the start of X. Like Tokyo Sunrise, this is based off an rp, and written into fic form.
Yuuzai
By Ari and C
Slow, roiling mist clouds obscured the view of the door to Kagetoshi Shrine. His arrival there - scarcely minutes before the low whorls of moisture had begun to ebb up from the grounds around the place - was a sure sign that this was no untrained superstition that had called him here, as it was too often not in the professional life of the thirteenth head of the Sumeragi. And even now, the cold ivory-grey tide was flooding from between the cracks of the shrine doors to writhe and dance around the crisp, pleated whiteness of the young onmyouji's formal robes - as he walked purposefully towards them thorough the cooling twilight.
Inside, a young girl was waiting, seated beside the altar. She did not look up as he approached, only hunched her shoulders further and turned her eyes away, matted and tangled black hair concealing her face completely in the dim light. Tatters of rice paper lay scattered on the ancient wooden floor at her feet, the remnants of the shrine's protective wards, yet the figure regarded her with the sanctity of a healer come to erase a wound. A slight, respectful bow, and he let himself in, starting cautiously if determinedly toward her.
The cool fog that flowed from the shrine swept towards the young man's pale form, obscuring the sight of him; swallowing the slender figure as it blocked out the night sky and muffled the sound of his footsteps. For a moment, all that could be seen was the shadow of the man inside, but he continued, heedless of it, and the mist began to clear itself as if in reaction to his very presence - leaving streaming grey trails where he walked.
The only sound to break the ethereal stillness of the scene was the distant cry of a night bird, hunting its prey.
As the mist pooled away from the onmyouji it gathered at the edges of the courtyard and obscured the shrine grounds in hazy shadow. Hidden from the sight of the unwary, two eyes - one amber and one pearl - pierced the darkness and stared into the shrine beyond, waiting.
Reflecting in their depths, the scene before them was one that had transpired many times before. Familiar was the pursing of flushed lips as the young Sumeragi began to concentrate, the fluid raising of delicate hands to clasp together in the symbol of the spell he was about to begin.
He had even grown accustomed to the chill ruffle of a sudden, rogue breeze that whipped the fog up to the shrine's ceiling and tore the tatters of paper and hair from the crouching figure to expose the brilliant glancing gaze of a predator - or the possessed.
With the stately calm of one that had looked upon those eyes a thousand times, the youth kept his ground, and soft, muted syllables began to flow in an even cascade from his lips. As always, his chanting was smooth at first. The words were barely more than a whisper - as the tranquility was intended to belie his strength and let his target remain calm and nonviolent - however, as he cast his ofuda gracefully to land in the center of the girl's chest the apathetic exhaustion in his eyes belied himself, and even the possessed could read his intentions.
His lack of concern was well founded, as was known to the hunter in the darkness beyond, for the young onmyouji's every movement echoed with untold power. Faced with the serene authority of the white figure before her, the girl's eyes flicked to the doorway, and uttered a noise that sounded as angered by the intruder's presence as it was pained. Perhaps though, such unconcern was not wise. The young onmyouji's chant had not yet subdued her fully, and he was forced to move quickly to the side to avoid a desperate attack - the dance of preys beginning as the young Sumeragi endeavored to complete his spells.
And so, the hunter's gaze was admiring. He knew first hand the strength the younger man could command from his deceptively fragile form- the hunter also knew, first hand, the frailty of the body beneath the white robes.
After five years the young Sumeragi clan head had grown so much weaker, yet so much stronger, in the other man's absence. So much had changed. The bright green eyes had dulled, his innocent, boyish mannerisms were lost, the body; once slender, had now become almost emaciated. He knew from watching the boy that he did not eat unless his clients offered - which they often did given the state of the youth - because he could not be bothered to buy food on his own. His sister had always done that. He was alive, and that was enough; often it was more than he could bear.
Sometimes, when the situation was dire enough, he would slip into the youth’s apartment and put a few things there. Tea, ramen, occasionally milk- things the young Sumeragi had bought himself at one time or another. He didn’t care enough to wonder when they were replaced.
The hunter didn’t have to question why he did it. It was very simple, really- the youth was merely more entertaining to him alive. It was fascinating to watch his strength as an onmyouji grow while his body wasted away. To watch him perform complicated and powerful spells that would take any other onmyouji weeks of preparation with none whatsoever; on no breakfast, and probably no supper the night before. It was interesting to watch him change, and know that he had caused the change.
But had he really changed as much as the hunter had expected? The girl’s family had no money to pay him - they hadn’t even asked him to do it - and they blamed her for bringing this upon herself. And yet... the Head of the Sumeragi Clan had only so much as seen the girl in passing and offered to exorcise the spirits within her. When the world saw a petty, selfish girl who had tampered with things beyond her control, the young man saw a lonely, misunderstood young woman who had been driven to this as a last resort because of her peers. Like two sides of the same coin, both were probably equally true, but it was here that the young onmyouji distinguished himself from the rest of the faceless masses of Tokyo.
The hunter had seen this difference in the face of the boy he had marked so long ago, and it remained the same. Upon the death of his precious mother, humanity had become and endless sea of dolls with pretensions of sentience. Until the day a beautiful boy had approached him fearlessly and asked him questions he could not answer. He remembered his mother’s final words well - that he would surely love another, and die by his hand - and wondered if this one, this only, challenger to his glass eyes and frozen heart could be his new beloved.
So the Bet had been made. It amused the hunter to think of how his prey must rail against the unfairness of such a wager, little knowing that the price paid for the loser would have been the same regardless of the outcome. Oh, the danger for you was great, certainly, but just as deadly for me. If the young Sumeragi had failed to win the heart of the Sakurazukamori his life was forfeit, but if the hunter showed weakness for his prey, then he too would die. Fate was inescapable, and the person he loved most would take his life. The Heads of the two most powerful clans would face each other one day, with the victor decided not by strength in the art, but rather the arena of emotion.
Yet the hunter was uncertain who had won their contest. He knew he did not love the other man and yet… he could not bring himself to finish it. Perhaps it was simply that the two of them still had destinies to fulfill, and their battle would take place in due time. Or perhaps the seeds of emotion had been sown in the Sakurazukamori’s heart, but it would take more than the allotted year for it to grow into the love that would damn him.
Either way, it led to their current predicament. The Sumeragi wasting away while the hunter watched. It was hardly his older sister’s spell that stayed his hand- there were many other ways to kill besides his preferred method- for it was not her influence that had stopped him from killing him cleanly when the nature of the Bet had been revealed. Though it had certainly given him pause - as had her words - and probably saved her brother from a life inside his own heart, it was not her sacrifice that made the hunter hesitant to his end his prey’s existence and spare his own.
Perhaps it was merely the same reason he fed the boy - that the young Sumeragi was more interesting to him alive. It would be pleasurable to kill him, likely; to feel the last shaking movements of that lithe body against his own, to watch blood stain the soft pink lips crimson, to hear the last gasping breaths and what he might say with them. It would be beautiful. But he was just as beautiful like this. Killing him, until absolutely necessary, would be wasteful.
The shadows encroached upon the white-shrouded figure, desperate to make the soft, powerful chanting cease. The single slip of paper affixed to the girl's chest turned into a beacon of light in the growing darkness and he reached out gently, yet decisively, to touch the girl’s forehead. Her back arched, her limbs jerked and twisted. The spirit within her could not overcome the onmyouji’s strength - the seals at the edges of the circle burst into white flame - and the hunter smiled, knowing that victory was certain. Few things indeed could challenge his prey’s power, and it pleased him to know that he himself was one of those last echelons of darkness the youth could not defeat. Such a pathetic creature as this was surely unworthy to touch his personal treasure.
The white flame spread from his fingertips and engulfed the girl. Even for one prepared for it, the terrible cry of the creature within her, blended with her own panicked scream, was utterly chilling. The ancient boards of the shrine rattled as if caught in some unseen tremor, yet this did not phase the young onmyouji in the slightest. His eyes remained closed, as his final words swept the spirit from her in one last blaze of light. The girl collapsed to her hands and knees, trembling.
She was restored, but she seemed angry rather than grateful. It amused the hunter to see that his prey had forgotten that there were some who would want to be anything besides what they were. Her clear brown eyes glared up from beneath her matted hair at the man who had taken away everything that made her special. She lunged at him, and much to her surprise - though it did not surprise the waiting predator beyond - the young man did nothing to stop her. No words, no spell. He merely caught her wrist gently, but he was exhausted from his onmyoujutsu and lack of food and proper rest. Faced with someone strengthened by rage, he could not hold her back before her fingernails tore into the pale skin of his face.
The Sumeragi smiled kindly despite the blood that trailed down his cheek, liquid black in the dying light, and did not resist her. Confronted with eyes that held nothing save kindness and understanding, the anger fled from the girl and she broke down and wept. The young man pulled her into his arms to comfort her.
Waiting in the shadows beyond, the hunter’s teeth caught his lip. The leather of his gloves strained as his fists clenched, eyes narrowed dangerously. If there was one thing he could not abide, it was damage to his own property. Yet he was still, even though neither would be able to stop him from doing anything he wished, watching for the best chance to strike. Patience, in his line of work, was not to be taken lightly.
It wasn’t long before his chance came. The girl, finished sobbing for a time, wanted to see her parents- wanted them to see that she was unharmed. The onmyouji embrace her once more before offering to explain what had happened and bring them here; whispered soothing words, told her that they would understand and be glad. He gathered up his robes with a reassuring smile that carefully hid the emptiness in his eyes and gracefully descended the steps of the shrine.
He passed within an arms length of the hunter and did not know it.
When the form of the white figure was swallowed whole by the dark mists, the black one stepped forward to take his place. No sound echoed from his footsteps; no cloth rustled or stone scattered to betray his presence. There was one violent servant of dark magics that even the Head of the Sumeragi clan could make no seal or ward against- and He ascended the steps to the shrine without warning.
The girl looked up, afraid and astonished by the sudden appearance of this darkly handsome stranger. She stared up into his eyes - one soft and brown and human, the other white and cold as snow - transfixed, unable to flee as he approached. He leaned down and picked up her smaller, trembling form almost kindly, a faint smile belying his purpose.
“If you continue to meddle in things you do not understand, it is only a matter of time until they destroy you.” With those simple words, the hunter drove his hand through the wide-eyed girl’s heart. She said nothing - there was likely nothing she could say, he mused - as her body shuddered and died. Only a few tears shed from her frightened eyes before they turned to glass.
Blood spattered on the white trappings of onmyoujutsu left behind, tainting and ruining them.
Caught up in the satisfaction of killing one who had harmed his favorite prey, the hunter did not notice the soft footsteps on the steps of the shrine. Returned out of worry for the girl he had saved, the younger onmyouji’s horrified gasp broke the still scene of the predator and his freshly killed prize.
For moments there was a pause, the eyes that were normally dead and expressionless suddenly alight with a thousand emotions, pain and anger and fear flaring in their depths...
...And it was then that he was trapped. The youth hesitated too long, caught between fight or flight and unable to decide - frozen as the dove before the hawk. There was a slight widening of the hunter's eyes - unaccustomed to being caught so off-guard - before a very different smile spread across his features. The body of the girl began to dissolve into sakura; to expose the other man's blood soaked form.
The youth could barely catch more than the flash of white teeth in the darkness before the hunter lunged forward and caught him by the neck, slamming his head unceremoniously against the edge of the door frame to keep him from struggling. The rapidly cooling blood smeared on the Sumeragi's formal white robes and across his pale skin, staining and tainting both. The hunter knew his prey was too exhausted, too outmatched to use the powers at his command. It was merely a matter of pinning his wrists and pulling him too close to fight, so severely outmatched was he in the physical realm as well.
One simple movement and he would die as easily as the defenseless girl. Shocked and in pain, his prey could hardly do more than whimper beneath him. Seconds passed, and there was naught but a slight movement and the sound of his breath - he did not even open his eyes.
Then, slowly, his eyes did open. For a mere instant, the emotion and life vivid as the color they once were, and then before his gaze they seemed to fade. As if he could watch the boy die without so much as a word or a movement, and at length he was still again. A name trembling on his lips, but nothing else.
The way it was meant to be.
"Seishirou-san."
He leaned close his prey, taking in the scent of blood mingled with innocence. He looked so terribly beautiful like this... framed in the failing light of the moon. And that, perhaps, was why - even though every instinct, every reason, cried out for the young man's death - he could not bring himself to cause it.
"Good evening, Subaru-kun." The hunter said evenly, raising fingers to touch the pale face gently, and leaving bloody streaks where they passed. It had to be this ethereal beauty, and not emotion. The fingers moved back to trail through his soft hair, then clenched, and slammed the pretty face against the frame once again. Nothing. He felt nothing. So if it was the young Sumeragi's beauty that captivated him so, then he need simply make him less beautiful.
There was a cry, a weak struggle, a plea for him to stop that hardly sounded genuine - just broken and helpless… Hardly satisfying fare for the Sakurazukamori, a man used to more heartfelt requests. Yet, the boy offered nothing more - perhaps only because he couldn't. What could he say in the face of something so powerful, when the best he could do was to try and turn so the doorframe did not hit his face? And there were tears on that face now; they glittered temptingly in eyes that seemed - even now - still to hold disbelief that this was happening, that someone he had once trusted could hurt him so.
It was all too easy for the hunter. To hurt him, to make a ruin of his delicate features, to leave him gasping and crying- just a few well-placed blows to the much smaller man, before the youth crumpled to the floor, shaking. The wetness dripping from his lips was now wholly his own.
He had fallen half-slumped against the frame, which the older man found largely inconvenient. He simply grabbed the lighter body by the hair and threw him inside the shrine, his form landing just beside the pools of the blood staining the wooden floor. He stood above the broken thing, the moonlight making his teeth and blinded eye the only gleam in the darkness.
Even still, the poor thing tried to move. His delicate silk robes torn and falling open, trailed like broken wings behind him, and in desperation he reached for his ofuda- willing to risk permanent damage to his mind if only to escape. And now - to cover his actions - he began to plead in earnest, finally letting sparkling tears fly free and begging for the older man to stop... if nothing else an attempt to distract him long enough to try an attack.
His prey's attempts at deception amused the hunter, and he smiled softly to himself. He waited carefully until the last possible moment before his spell was released, before catching the young man's wrists swiftly and harshly, squeezing them until they released the paper spells they held.
Even bloodied and broken, his prey was still beautiful. Even now, there was no desire to watch him die. No... pressed close to the lovely, trembling young man, alone together in the darkness- there was another desire. Perhaps that was why his prey still lived. He had left the hunter unsatisfied. His lack of emotion by no means meant a lack of instinct, and the needs of the body were as powerful as the needs of the mind.
He released the younger man's wrists to and clenched one hand around his neck instead to free the other to touch the pale, bloody chest, and part his already torn robes. He pressed his lips to the youth's in mockery of his old tenderness, and lapped up the blood that trailed to his chin.
Only now, when the older man's mood seemed to turn to this, did the fear truly start to spark in the youth. His struggles were redoubled, and his expression became panicked as his hands brushed the ofuda that were scattered just out of reach- his heart pounding a sickening speed in his chest. Which only served to make the hunter more interested, and amused- really now, Subaru-kun, you think that one who kills without reservation would hesitate to do this if it pleased him? This person, who had seen the darkest sides of human nature, was still so naďve.
The hunter wasted no time. He parted the youth's clothing where it was torn, ripped it open where it wasn't, exposing enough of his slender body so that the older man could take what he wanted. The hands on his chest and thighs were rough enough to bruise, and his lips forced apart under the hunter's mouth to muffle his cries. Not that they were loud- for he knew anyone nearby whom his prey could summon to aid him would surely be even less of a match against the hunter's powers.
There was no care or even affection in the hunter's touches that mimicked the intimacy one might show to a lover. When the man underneath him struggled too fiercely, the hand around his neck tightened. When his tiny fingertips grabbed hold of one of the discarded ofuda, his wrist was twisted until it snapped.
Eventually, though, the struggles weakened. If, in the beginning the young man had hoped he could escape - that finding the hunter would bring him resolution - there was none of that hope now. Only a lingering gaze beyond the hunter's face to the stars to tell the boy still breathed; he had gone still long before the last whorls of mist had finally brushed away out of the shrine to leave nothing but the roughness of the floor against his bare skin.
And now... there was nothing more than hot, silent tears sliding down his ruined face, and an expression that warned of his last attempt to escape - this time, beyond reality. His prey was beginning to drift away inside himself again; the last bastion of hope that he prayed the Sakurazukamori could not reach.
That was the last thing the hunter wanted. It would rob him both his precious toy, and the satisfaction of destroying it so that it could only be his. Within himself, the boy would belong to no one.
And so the older man slowed, turning his bites into soft kisses against the boy's skin, his touches into caresses that might have belonged to the kind veterinarian the boy once knew. The hand around the youth's neck relaxed, instead turning to stroke his exposed throat. The older man did not, however, make any sign of changing his intention- he still parted the boy's naked thighs and began to touch him more intimately- he now seemed merely willing to acknowledge the other participant.
"I won't leave, even if you do." The older man said quietly, lips brushing the other's ear. "It would be your choice to be alone."
"You... already..." The words, barely able to force themselves from a frozen throat, could not hold the venom with which they were intended. Instead, the usually soft and gentle tones sounded shattered and dry, and echoed in the dusty air - a hollow anguish ripped as bare and vulnerable as the youth himself.
Satisfied that the youth was staying with him for at least a while longer, the hunter wasted no time- not bothering now to remove anything unnecessary or even prepare the young man beneath him for what was coming. He paused for only one moment, his tip pressing into the boy's entrance, to watch the other other's eyes as he realized what was to inevitably occur.
As if the momentary lull in the pain had somehow reignited the boy's meager will, a sudden flare of fear and horror sparked in his gaze again. For a moment he seemed willing to risk another fight... yet then - for a reason the hunter could only begin to guess at - a moment later a stain of color began to rise to the youth's already bruised cheeks, and the eyes closed. He had given in.
Far be it from the hunter to let such submission go unrewarded. He entered the boy much more gently than he had intended at first, and kissed his lips softly once he was inside. Is this permission, then, Subaru-kun? Or is it just acceptance? His rhythm, too, though still hard and deep was more passionate instead of cruel... although it did border on cruelty at times, to gauge the boy's reaction, watching for an answer.
Fleeting whimpers and small, hitching gasps spoke a story of their own, then - as the boy began to forget the pain in his wrist and become accustomed to the sensations forced upon him. He still had too much dignity to moan aloud, as he once would have - writhing and begging beneath his older lover - but the unrelenting tears told the hunter that his reserve was breaking... and the arch of his back was an honesty that all the onmyoujutsu in the world could not hide.
The older man, though, had no such restraint- he delighted in allowing the boy to know how much he enjoyed the hot tightness of his body. The blood covering both men began to run with their sweat, making the press of their bodies together so much smoother. Eyes half-closed, the hunter’s deep noises of pleasure began to sound more dangerous as he moved closer to his climax. His touch was rough once again, and his teeth found the younger man's skin more often than his lips. He was losing restraint, and as such his thrusts became fiercer and more violent inside the boy.
He was not going to hold back from this indulgence for the sake of the other's enjoyment. As his vision blurred, it was filled only with images of the youth's murder. As soon as he was done with him, the boy would die.
Under him, the breaths grew harsher. Tiny, mewling sounds of pleasure escaped with the air from the boy's parted lips, and he began to tremble with the nearness of his own end. Then suddenly, the hunter heard a word through his haze- the slightest whispered plea from a creature that had abandoned hope years before. The boy was calling his name.
He was asking for more.
As ironic as it might have been, the hunter was in no mood to deny him. He had had every intention of taking the other man against his will, breaking him and stealing his life, yet it seemed as if the boy was not opposed to any of it. He lifted the boy’s hips to push further inside.
Neither of them should have enjoyed it. Anyone would have been sickened by all of it- anyone but the two of them, who reveled in the pleasure of the harm it caused them both. They finished together. For a scant few seconds, lying in each other’s arms, both of them were at peace.
Utterly sated, the hunter propped himself up on his elbows above his erstwhile lover, all sense of desire replaced by fulfillment. Now it should be easy to end the life of the man beneath him- doubtless the shaking, sobbing creature desired it above all else- face coloured crimson by shame, eyes squeezed tightly shut to block out the image of his violator. He laid a hand to rest casually above the younger man’s heart. And yet... it would seem to empty to do this without watching those dull green eyes shatter and glaze as the act was performed. And so he struck him. Hard. The eyes did not open. Irritation grew inside the older man; now, when he could finally manage to do away with the useless thing he had sworn to kill, it wanted to rob him of the satisfaction that came with it.
He struck again. Nothing. Again.
The young man simply lay there, bleeding profusely from his forehead as well. He trembled, and made an odd sort of mewling sound- mouthed something that might have been the older man’s name- but did not open his eyes.
So the hunter kissed him. Softly.
That, it seemed, was the key to other man’s eyes… but they were blank and dull and desolate- so very full of hurt that they seemed hardly worth the effort of breaking. They seemed to ask the hunter what he’d done to deserve this, and at the same time stutter broken apologies for it.
The hunter was defeated again, as the desire to kill his prey waned and fled. Instead, with a sigh he found himself pulling the other man close, hand resting lightly on his neck. This was entirely his fault, he was certain- the young man was the only one who had ever been able to make him hesitate, let alone falter like this. The dull green eyes closed again, loosing tears without any sound to accompany them.
As he cradled the young man close, his mother’s words rang clearly throughout his mind… unless he found the strength to end this; those tiny, delicate hands would be the instruments of his death… If only you were a fraction less beautiful, less kind, I could kill you. Easily. I do not love you. I… Irritation at his own weakness welled up inside his heart, spilling over as anger. He threw the other man to the ground again. Perhaps if he hurt him enough, stripped him of everything he hadn’t already taken, he could finish what he had started.
But it was not to be so. There might be blood at his lips and bruises on his neck and face. He might be trembling and choking and trying to hold back shattered sobs. His clothing might be torn and stained and barely covering his injured form. But the result… was something that served only to make him more delicate. Breathtakingly so.
“Can’t be…” The sight could not help but be admired. Touched, lightly at first, the familiar feeling of blood slicking his hands. He would be even more beautiful dead - the hunter was now certain - but even as his hand came to rest atop his trembling dove’s heart once more, he could not bring himself to do it. Why should he? It was beautiful, and fragile, and his. “Mine…” He said softly, close to the other man’s ear. “My beloved Subaru-kun…”
A whisper made hoarse by crying out, yet somehow sounding sweeter than the call of the white bird, emanated from the young man’s lips. “Sei... shirou… san… I’m sorry… I…” He broke down, letting the tears come- but was too ashamed to let the older man see them, burying his face in the sleeve of his torn clothing.
The hunter’s strong hand closed over his wrist, baring the tear-streaked face to his coldly admiring one. The older man moved on top of him, the press of his body not unkind - just watchful - to see if the frail thing beneath him would take the offered warmth it might provide. “Do you know what you’re sorry for, Subaru-kun?”
Tears he was too afraid to shed glimmered in the younger man’s eyes. He barely met the gaze that was turned on him, and did so only for the briefest moment before his resistance dissolved and his eyes slid shut again. “No… but… I’ve made you angry with me. Please, Seishirou-san… I’m sorry.” The tiny body had refused to accept him, but bent with even the slightest touch in submission. If the hunter were to question it, he was sure, even the wild flutter of his heart against his birdcage ribs would answer only fear, before it would surrender as well.
He smiled at his prize, a smile so devoid of affection it would be difficult for even the most lifelessly cruel portrait to match. He lowered his head to rest beside the younger man’s. His body covered the other entirely, the black cloth of his coat having settled around both of them to shroud them both in darkness. He wondered if his prey even knew why he did this, or what it did to him. “I could kill you, Subaru-kun.” He lied easily, his smile turning cruel. “So… aren’t you afraid? Don’t you wish to fight? Survive?”
“But… you would want me to die…” The voice from the smothered form beneath him was shattering slowly, becoming ethereal and whispered, its substance lost. “I… I couldn’t ever…”
That was hardly the answer the older man was looking for, if it was an answer at all. The smile disappeared, and he grabbed the back of the younger man’s head and wrenched it around to face his own angrily. “Why?” This was pathetic- for both of them. He would die, because he could not kill this boy who refused to live. He pulled the younger man’s head back to the point of breaking, his eyes filled with uncharacteristic rage. “Why?! Why won’t you scream for help? Beg me to spare your life?!”
For a second, the young onmyouji’s eyes went impossibly wide. Terror suffused them like milky smoke, dulled them and dried the tears leaving something barren in its wake… and dead. There was nothing but a barely audible ‘please’ from the youth’s broken, parted lips- and then there was nothing. No reaction, just simple unthinking acceptance that the other man would take his life.
There was a moment. An agonizing moment where the hunter contemplated his prey with fury- seething that it would not cry out for him, make it so that he could free himself from it at last. Only a slight cracking from the younger man’s neck broke the silence… but only enough to cause pain, only enough to freeze his limbs and darken his vision… not enough to give him his release. The hunter’s own eyes widened, and he gently released his hold- letting the fragile form come to rest against him while he supported its head. Without reason or warning, the hunter pressed his cheek against his prey’s soft hair and brushed his lips against his skin.
“Why….” His voice had turned soft and deep and quiet.
Suddenly he could feel the younger man’s heart pound against the inside of his chest as if to break free, fairly jolting the damaged body with its beats. The utter fear at the thought of further hurt clouded the already opaque eyes, the shallow breaths and stifled sobs bespoke the pain he must be in. Still, he fought to answer the older man - lips moving in a soundless deluge of pleas, assurances, and justifications that he could not hear… but there was meaning enough behind those eyes. They trained their anguish on him once again, yet also bore in them a startling spark of something that had refused to burn out.
“I- I… love you….Seishirou-san… love you…” It was weak and near inaudible, but the boy managed to find his voice at last. The eyes were still deathly afraid- but not, the hunter noticed, for his own safety. It looked as if the thought that the older man wouldn’t believe him, wouldn’t accept it, or simply wouldn’t care had given him a new, shuddering mantra and he repeated this pleading offer as if it were all he could cling to. Too afraid of the one he spoke the words for to find support in him.
“I know, Subaru-kun. I know.” The Sakurazukamori still supported the younger man’s head, knowing that if he did not, his prey would likely die. He found it oddly appropriate… if he was just to let go, just once, his pretty thing would slip away forever. It loves him, it said. Perhaps it thought it did. But he knew it only loved a memory, a façade…no one, nothing, could love the hunter as it was now.
This bleeding thing… perhaps this was how it sought to save its own life? After all, who could resist love from such a beautiful thing? With some bitterness, he realized even he could not. Lies… he deserved these lies. It did not love him, nor he it. He did not care how much it bled and cried for him. Still, no matter how fitting it would seem, he could not let go of the pretty bird’s neck, and would not let it die.
At no further sign of violence the eyes slid shut again. The body he held seemed to sink into the hunter’s hands, relying solely on him to keep it from death. The broken whispers of ‘I love you’ continued, but they were quiet and no longer desperate. Shaking fingers reached out to the front of his shirt and hovered there, above his heart; barely daring even to brush the older man’s clothing, but wishing to touch him nonetheless.
Sadly, the hunter closed his hands over the young onmyouji’s. He pulled them close to touch his chest- but only for a moment, before he took them away and placed them over the boy’s own heart. An almost wistful look was reflected in the hunter’s eyes. Images of holding another body close to his own, like this, echoed in his mind. Until that other person had left him- but she had smiled even in death. “When you really love me, Subaru-kun, you will no longer be afraid…”
“If I kill you, it will only make you happy.
“Until then, precious one, you do not love me.”
The hunter kissed the boy lightly, using his magic to put him to sleep and finding no resistance from the other’s powers. For a moment the mirror images of the two tiny, blood-covered bodies in his arms - both of whom he so intimately cared for - overwhelmed him, and he held the young Sumeragi tightly. Closely, and for much longer than was safe, but the one in his arms still drew small, shuddering breaths against his shoulder. Later, he would deliver him to a hospital to be cared for.
The hunter had decided. He was not going to kill his prey- to do so would only mean more endless years of solitude. He would watch, and he would wait, and he would think of his prey’s soft body and lovely face. He did not know what he felt, but he knew it was enough to seal his fate... and that now he would gladly pay the price for his weakness.