Beast of Blood
By Siadea Kanche
Disclaimer: A could-have-been hourfic. Yes, I know how Seishirou's death went. Inspired by a picture. Both series and picture are Clamp's. The song name used for the title is Malice Mizer's.
****
Two men faced each other in the artificial whiteness of a maboroshi. Both men wore equally empty smiles. The dark-haired man's smile was a small, meaningless slant of his lips; the man in the white trenchcoat's gentle smile was belied by the look in his eyes. Delicate pink sakura blossoms swirled around them as silence reigned.
"Sakurazukamori-san," the man in white said - empty words only a confirmation of something already known. He rubbed the back of a black-gloved hand through his hair. Reversed pentagrams flared on the backs of his hands, visible even through the leather gloves.
"You remember our Bet," Seishirou Sakurazuka commented, not expecting the other to have forgotten by any means.
"Of course. Truly, I should never have expected to win. You're cold, Seishirou-san." The comment held no rancor.
"So I am. No, you never won. I've played my game, and I still feel nothing for you."
"Call it curiousity, Seishirou-san, but why am I still alive, if not to entertain you?" The question was phrased almost delicately.
Sakurazukamori's smile nearly froze. "I've been amusing myself with other prey. You have done nothing to merit being one of my victims."
"Have I not? Then why choose me for your game in the first place?"
"As a diversion. You were never anything to me. You were never even my true plaything. That honor belongs to another."
"Him?" The man in the white trenchcoat almost scoffed. "I know how much you keep in his company, but I cannot see it."
"He is my equal, unlike yourself," Seishirou told the other, words deliberately chosen to hurt.
"I am not your equal, and I admit it. Still, since when have you ever wanted a toy equal to yourself?" The other's voice had only a slight mocking edge.
Sakurazukamori's smile was razor-sharp and frozen now. "Since you proved to be so - uninteresting."
"I am wounded," the other man said lightly, but his face told a different story.
"Yes," Seishirou agreed, correctly reading the expression. "Do you hope to see me care?"
"I've lost such hope long since."
"Then why haven't you attacked me yet?" Seishirou dared.
The man in the white trenchcoat raised his head, meeting Sakurazukamori's eyes. "Because I know I am not your equal. I refuse to fight you, especially here. I will merely die, as powerless against you in death as I was in life."
Sakurazukamori raised a flattened hand. "Years ago, you asked if the spirits in the sakura were pained by their existence. Is it your wish to find out personally?"
"Will you care if I tell you?" the other countered.
"No."
"Then my answer hardly matters, does it? My blood will water your sakura regardless." The man in the white trenchcoat never broke his gaze into Seishirou's single eye. "Why do you hesitate, Seishirou-san?" he whispered. "I loved my sister more than you. I love you enough to let myself be killed by you. Why did you expect me to protest rejoining her by your hand?"
Sakurazukamori didn't answer. Instead, he approached his prey, stalking over sakura petals in the white void. His prey never looked away, even when Seishirou was within an arms' length of him.
The prey placed black-gloved hands on Seishirou's shoulders, even as the hunter thrust his hand forward, violently parting shirt, ribs, heart, and spine. The prey's breath hardly rattled, but his hands clenched, leaving bruises on Sakurazukamori's shoulders. The prey slumped, not relaxing his grip on Seishirou, so that prey and hunter's faces almost touched.
"Go back to your Subaru. You never felt for me, but you'll let yourself die by his hand," Yuuto Kigai hissed.
Sakurazukamori stepped away, breaking the blonde's fading grip on his shoulders. The hunter let Yuuto fall to the floor of the maboroshi, blood staining sakura petals a shade that was not pink.
"I believe I will," Seishirou Sakurazuka said.
****
Author's Note: Damn drama track listings. Yes, THAT picture. I got a brainscrew at eleven p.m. by looking at that picture, and the fic idea that was subsequently spawned demanded this be written.
By Siadea Kanche
Disclaimer: A could-have-been hourfic. Yes, I know how Seishirou's death went. Inspired by a picture. Both series and picture are Clamp's. The song name used for the title is Malice Mizer's.
****
Two men faced each other in the artificial whiteness of a maboroshi. Both men wore equally empty smiles. The dark-haired man's smile was a small, meaningless slant of his lips; the man in the white trenchcoat's gentle smile was belied by the look in his eyes. Delicate pink sakura blossoms swirled around them as silence reigned.
"Sakurazukamori-san," the man in white said - empty words only a confirmation of something already known. He rubbed the back of a black-gloved hand through his hair. Reversed pentagrams flared on the backs of his hands, visible even through the leather gloves.
"You remember our Bet," Seishirou Sakurazuka commented, not expecting the other to have forgotten by any means.
"Of course. Truly, I should never have expected to win. You're cold, Seishirou-san." The comment held no rancor.
"So I am. No, you never won. I've played my game, and I still feel nothing for you."
"Call it curiousity, Seishirou-san, but why am I still alive, if not to entertain you?" The question was phrased almost delicately.
Sakurazukamori's smile nearly froze. "I've been amusing myself with other prey. You have done nothing to merit being one of my victims."
"Have I not? Then why choose me for your game in the first place?"
"As a diversion. You were never anything to me. You were never even my true plaything. That honor belongs to another."
"Him?" The man in the white trenchcoat almost scoffed. "I know how much you keep in his company, but I cannot see it."
"He is my equal, unlike yourself," Seishirou told the other, words deliberately chosen to hurt.
"I am not your equal, and I admit it. Still, since when have you ever wanted a toy equal to yourself?" The other's voice had only a slight mocking edge.
Sakurazukamori's smile was razor-sharp and frozen now. "Since you proved to be so - uninteresting."
"I am wounded," the other man said lightly, but his face told a different story.
"Yes," Seishirou agreed, correctly reading the expression. "Do you hope to see me care?"
"I've lost such hope long since."
"Then why haven't you attacked me yet?" Seishirou dared.
The man in the white trenchcoat raised his head, meeting Sakurazukamori's eyes. "Because I know I am not your equal. I refuse to fight you, especially here. I will merely die, as powerless against you in death as I was in life."
Sakurazukamori raised a flattened hand. "Years ago, you asked if the spirits in the sakura were pained by their existence. Is it your wish to find out personally?"
"Will you care if I tell you?" the other countered.
"No."
"Then my answer hardly matters, does it? My blood will water your sakura regardless." The man in the white trenchcoat never broke his gaze into Seishirou's single eye. "Why do you hesitate, Seishirou-san?" he whispered. "I loved my sister more than you. I love you enough to let myself be killed by you. Why did you expect me to protest rejoining her by your hand?"
Sakurazukamori didn't answer. Instead, he approached his prey, stalking over sakura petals in the white void. His prey never looked away, even when Seishirou was within an arms' length of him.
The prey placed black-gloved hands on Seishirou's shoulders, even as the hunter thrust his hand forward, violently parting shirt, ribs, heart, and spine. The prey's breath hardly rattled, but his hands clenched, leaving bruises on Sakurazukamori's shoulders. The prey slumped, not relaxing his grip on Seishirou, so that prey and hunter's faces almost touched.
"Go back to your Subaru. You never felt for me, but you'll let yourself die by his hand," Yuuto Kigai hissed.
Sakurazukamori stepped away, breaking the blonde's fading grip on his shoulders. The hunter let Yuuto fall to the floor of the maboroshi, blood staining sakura petals a shade that was not pink.
"I believe I will," Seishirou Sakurazuka said.
****
Author's Note: Damn drama track listings. Yes, THAT picture. I got a brainscrew at eleven p.m. by looking at that picture, and the fic idea that was subsequently spawned demanded this be written.