Rating: R for violence
Pairing: Asami/Akihito
Contains: Gore, but not too graphically described. But a bit.
Note: I wrote this back in October for the Holiday fest on the Yamane_Ayano comm on LJ for this prompt:
On Halloween, Takaba got cursed or possessed by the spirit in an artifact, which resulted in him being an aggressive cannibal. Asami had to fight him to survive. The story may be set in the canon universe or in an alternate universe, but please keep the characters' gender and age similar to their canon portrayal; the gorier, the better.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Yamane Ayano, not me.
The sky was a sullen, heavy gray now. Just at the line of the horizon, the promise of a less somber hue grew with each passing moment, lightening the pall of the receding gloom. An eternity had passed since Asami had last seen the sun, or so it felt.
The lower half of his pants were sodden from the dew covered grass and moist soil he knelt in, but he scarcely noticed, and cared less. Akihito was dead weight in his arms. The skin of his face, where it showed through the dark, crusted blood, was the color of dirty ashes to match the sky.
He hugged the small, fragile body closer and rocked a little. It was lonely in the Hokkaido hills in the hour before dawn, but the treacherous night was almost over. The chill was fading just a little from the air, and the sun would rise soon.
An infinity of stars shone in the sky above them. They and the moon provided the only light as Asami blazed a trail up the mountain side. The Sea of Okhotsk spread out like a black carpet at their feet. His nostrils stung with the sharp, cold smell of it.
This remote northeastern tip of Hokkaido felt light years away from anything, and Asami felt in his bones the reasoning of the Ainu for naming the peninsula Shiretoko, the end of the earth. They were heading into protected national park territory, which Asami was loathe to do, and not because he was concerned about the preservation of the wildlife.
The forest could be treacherous. They risked the elements, the danger of getting lost, not to mention breaking an ankle or falling over the edge of a cliff in the dark. The greater threat was an unknown number of pursuers, whittled down at least through Asami's efforts, who were still on their heels, not too close yet, but definitely too close for comfort. He only knew that some of them spoke Russian, and that they had come on a boat from Kunashir Island.
During the day, he could look across the Nemuro Strait and see the dark mass of it on the horizon. If he had the means at the moment, he would cheerfully blast it off the map, World Heritage Site or not. Since he could not, he spared a glance at the boy glued to his back as they climbed higher. Akihito's harsh breathing was evident, as close as he was, though the boy was surprisingly quiet, moving along with him swiftly and silently.
Asami stopped to listen for sounds of pursuit and ran a soothing hand down Akihito's spine. The body beneath his hand tensed and then relaxed, and Akihito flashed a quick, tight grin, humorless though it was. The boy had guts.
Below them the sound of boots splashing through water and the faint call of discovery rang out clearly in the cool air. Russian again. This way. They had crossed the stream and picked up their trail. Someone with them knew how to track. Asami frowned.
According to Akihito's guidebook, there was a ranger station up ahead to the east about three hundred yards. They wouldn't go there. It would be expected. He jerked his head the opposite direction, and Akihito nodded, his mouth tight with worry even as a fire flashed in his eyes that belied it. Asami's gut flared in response. His wild boy, he thought with fierce pride.
They moved again as stealthily as they could without sacrificing all their speed. The mountain side began to level out into a sort of small, forested plateau. On the edge of it, Asami looked down. Rausu nestled by the shore roughly to the southwest, it's scattered, warm lights evoking a weary envy in Asami that he brushed off quickly.
Perhaps, if they began working their way back down the mountain, they could circle back around to the town where his resources would be greater. He would prefer weapons greater than his hands and sticks and stones. Another sharp call from below forced his choice. The bobbing lights from their pursuers' lanterns and flashlights made an uneven trail about three hundred feet below them.
Asami pulled Akihito into the line of the trees and carefully began to lead the way down. Going down was faster than going up, even in the dark, and they had gained some breathing room when they reached the little protected valley at the bottom. With any luck, the bastards had missed their faint trail and continued up the mountain.
He knew better than to rely on that, so they kept moving. The canopy of the trees hid the moonlight, making progress difficult, but their trail took them by the banks of a small embankment where a dark stream flowed sluggishly. It's sides were lined with damp rocks covered in luminescent moss. It's presence gave their surroundings a surreal and eerily beautiful aspect.
"I wish I had my camera and night lens," Akihito breathed against his ear.
Asami almost laughed. He wouldn't put it past the kid to insist he be allowed to stop and take a few shots at least if his camera were here. Thank fuck for small favors.
The stream led them to a small cave that burrowed into the side of the hill. It was too low and narrow for a human to pass through, not that he had any intention of entering strange caves in the middle of the night, not even if he had all the hounds of Hell on his heels. And he didn't their pursuers measured up to that.
Akihito's soft gasp had him reaching for his now useless gun in blind instinct. He spared another second to regret the spent bullets, though they had been well placed.
"What is it?"
"Look."
Akihito's soft words held awe, and when Asami came closer, he could see why. A small shrine was tucked in a circle of the rocks covered in the luminescent moss, goblin's gold, the locals called it. Within a ring of pebbles, a small amulet sat.
It appeared to be made of shiny black stone, obsidian perhaps. They were at the foot of a volcano, at a very chain of volcanoes. It made sense. The shape was abstract, but seemed to give a vague sense of pattern that could be revealed if only he thought about it long enough.
Asami reached out, wanting to pick it up to examine it more closely, but Akihito's jerked his sleeve sharply.
"Don't!"
Asami frowned at the boy's wide eyes. Akihito's face reflected the strange green of the moss, and he just shook his head, clutching at Asami's forearm with a surprisingly desperate grip.
He didn't appreciate the display. Who was Akihito to tell him what to do? He shook the hand off with a violent jerk, making Akihito cry out with surprise. Akihito fell back and his outflung hand knocked the amulet on its side. Asami reached for it again when the sound of a branch snapping on the bank above them made him freeze.
All his survival instincts sharpened, and he motioned for Akihito to stay still. He turned in a crouch and peered up through the overhanging branches. He heard no footsteps or voices. Perhaps it had been an animal.
When several moments passed without further intrusion on the quiet, Asami jerked his chin at Akihito and pointed. They would head west through the forest a little farther and then circle around the foothills back toward Rausu.
Then, not quite the worst thing happened, but bad enough. Akihito cried out, though he instantly muffled the sound with a fist in his mouth. A short, slippery tangle of roots was the culprit. Asami helped him out of it and sat Akihito down instantly when he heard the hiss that came out of the boy when he attempted to stand.
"Let me check," Asami whispered. As gently as he could, he felt the ankle and turned it. It wasn't broken, but badly sprained. The barely suppressed whimpers from Akihito confirmed it.
He calculated their odds of making it back to the town before daylight or before their trackers caught up to them. He didn't like them.
"I can walk," Akihito whispered.
Asami heard the tightness in Akihito's voice, but they had little choice. Asami wrapped an arm around Akihito's waist, and helped support him as they steadily wove through the trees of the forest. The uneven forest floor made it impossible to protect Akihito's ankle well. Soon enough, Akihito's breathing became labored, but no word of complaint escaped him.
Ankles could be healed, Asami told himself firmly, as long as the body they belonged to remained alive and breathing. That was the important thing. Akihito had experienced far worse.
The land rolled gently here in a series of small hills. They came over the rise of one, stepping out of the line of trees into a small clearing. Asami didn't notice the man at first glance because he was standing in the shadows of the tree. It was the sound of the stream of the man's piss hitting the leaves that alerted him.
Several things happened at once. Asami spun around, pushing Akihito behind him. The man shouted in surprise, the arc of his urine glittering in the dark as the swollen moon emerged from behind a veil of clouds and replaced the black cloak of the clearing with a dark, reddish-gold pall. He fumbled for his gun, cursing in Russian, his pants slipping further down his hips.
Asami ran towards him, grappling with the man who was unfortunately brawny and tough. A quick jerk sent his arm wide as the gun went off once. Fuck. That would bring others. Asami smashed his fist into the man's nose and then his throat and wrenched the gun out of the man's hands as he fell to his knees gurgling.
A bloodcurdling cry ripped the air of the clearing behind him. Akihito. Heart in his throat, Asami spun, but Akihito was a whirlwind. He leapt, his hurt ankle seemingly forgotten. His face was lit by the moon and intent on the bleeding man who knelt with his dick still hanging from the open front of his pants. Akihito crashed against him as tried to struggle to his feet.
The look of startled fear froze on the man's face as Akihito ripped the man's throat out with his teeth. Asami watched in uncomprehending horror as droplets of the man's blood splattered on the carpet of dead leaves.
I'm not seeing this.
Asami's brain shut down in a moment of fundamental denial. He had to be hallucinating because this would never...could never happen. Akihito wasn't even capable of thinking about inflicting an act of such brutal carnage, much less carrying it out.
His vision began to tunnel and he realized with something like shock that he might be very close to passing out. He ground his tongue between his teeth with ruthless force, the copper tang bringing him back to sharp awareness where the sounds Akihito made as he crouched over the dead man on the ground were undeniable, unbelievable and sickening, but undeniable.
"Akihito..." His voice had never sounded so uncertain.
Akihito's head swung around, and Asami's stomach roiled at the sight of his bared teeth and the thick blood dripping down his chin. It dripped onto Akihito's shirt as his eyes blazed up at Asami, startling him into taking an involuntary step back.
Akihito's eyes flared with an inner light, reminiscent of the goblin moss in the forest. His face twisted; hunger, violence, twisted glee, and single minded purpose communicated in that one flash of illumination before the clouds covered the moon again.
Akihito's crouched shadow rose. Asami still clutched the gun in his hand, but he would never raise it against Akihito. Akihito snarled, a low rumble in his throat like a mindless beast and stalked toward him. At least, he didn't think he would.
"Akihito-" Whatever he would have said was interrupted by the shouts of men nearing the clearing. The beams of flashlights flashed erratically through the clearing, and Asami cursed silently. One man shouted as his beam fell on the dead man on the edge of the tree line.
Angry, anguished words rose. He didn't recognize all of them, but he thought the man yelling might be the dead man's brother. Asami made a lightening quick decision to grab Akihito and drag him into the shelter of the trees. Before he could act, Akihito sprang forward and attacked the man who now knelt at his brother's side.
Horrible screams rent the air. Asami couldn't see exactly what Akihito was doing, but he must have gone for the throat next because the screams ended abruptly. Branches snapped and rustled violently as others ran toward that end of the clearing. Asami moved swiftly to the trees and ran to Akihito.
A name was called out, a high-pitched question, and bullets began to fly until a stronger, more authoritative voice commanded a halt to it. Too bad, Asami thought. Let the idiots kill each other in the dark.
He would subdue Akihito-he'd had enough practice at that-and he'd get them away from the immediate danger. After that, he'd worry about anything else.
Only now, the clouds had drifted away from the moon's face, and a cry of discovery preceded another rain of bullets. Akihito howled and he sprang away from the two mangled bodies. Asami's heart stopped. There was so much blood on the boy's hands and shirt and face that Asami couldn't tell where he'd been hit until Akihito's clutched at his arm.
"Akihito," Asami hissed, lunging for him to drag back in the shadows.
He wasn't fast enough. Akihito's feral gaze lit on him for only a fraction of a second before he disappeared into the black. Asami fell back too as several men, seven or eight from what he could tell, entered the clearing. They swept their lights around and then turned to their fallen comrades.
Their leader spoke rapidly and four of the men broke off in different directions to sweep the surrounding trees. The leader himself bent down to examine the bodies. Asami watched as he focused the beam on the immediate area began to slowly track through the trees where Akihito had disappeared.
Asami cursed. If he didn't find Akihito before they did...the kid had obviously lost even the little sense of self-preservation he'd ever had. He was pumped on something Asami didn't understand, but even so, the kid stood no chance against bullets. He hoped against hope that Akihito had only been grazed before. If he lost too much blood that would be just as bad.
Oh, but he's making up for the loss, isn't he?
Asami shook his head. Focus. He stalked through the forest seeking to avoid those men and to find a hint of Akihito. The hint came soon enough in the form of another round of gut-wrenching, garbled screams. He took off running in the that direction. At least he didn't have to be quiet while they rang out, and he heard the shouts of the Russians, panic beginning to override their logic.
An order to regroup sent them all trampling through the underbrush with clumsy noise. Asami was grateful. He made it to the general area of where the screams had been and crept through the trees looking for Akihito. It was the smell that led him to the corpse this time. Blood and shit combined to produce a familiar, but foul stench. Associating it with Akihito was beyond disturbing.
He was afraid to approach, having no guarantee whose body he would see lying there, but the utter wreck of flesh that awaited him was enough to convince him. The man's face was gone, but his build was much larger than Akihito's. Asami looked away, pressing his sleeve to his nose and taking deep, slow breaths until the wave of nausea passed.
He summoned his courage and whispered, "Akihito?" He waited. "Come here now. We need to leave this place quickly before-"
Gunfire lit up the forest not fifty yards away along with more Russian curses and words. Monster. Demon. Beast.
Forgoing silence entirely, it made no difference in this chaos, Asami ran, ducked low. A Japanese voice rang out shockingly, gibbering, a voice that he just might recognize, that might explain part of this surreal mess. "You shot me! You shot me! Help! Help m-" A single shot rang out, and Asami heard the sound of someone spitting.
Without warning, Asami stumbled onto another body. A few feet away, Akihito crouched over the man's companion, digging deep into his gut with nails and teeth. Gobbets of flesh dangled from his hooked fingers. Through the overhanging branches, a ray of the moon lit the macabre tableau, and Akihito looked up, his stained and bared teeth seeming a smile of wicked enjoyment. He threw back his head and howled.
The primal scream shot a shiver down Asami's spine. The small of hairs of his neck raised, and he finally acknowledged that whatever Akihito was, whoever he was, was obliterated or deeply deeply submerged by...by something...some unknown quantity. Drugs? Hallucinations? Something in the water? Demons? He didn't know, and he didn't much care right now.
He'd survived this long by knowing how to compartmentalize what he needed to, so he shoved his theories and worries aside and narrowed his eyes. Akihito leapt at him in a stunning display of grace and brute, ravening bloodlust. His teeth snapped close to the artery of Asami's neck where the blood was pumping thick and hard. As if Akihito could smell it, he strained and writhed, his nails grappling into the flesh of Asami's arms who struggled to hold him off. Asami's strained efforts forced him to drop the gun. He swore, but gripped Akihito by the throat and began to squeeze firmly with his right hand.
The wild creature above him struggled, growling and gnashing his teeth, but before the thrashing limbs could begin to weaken, bullets began flying over their heads, and Asami was forced to roll them over. Akihito's head struck on a sharp rock, stunning him momentarily.
Asami snatched up the gun and from his belly took out the first two men who came near, and then a third who hadn't the sense to pull back when he heard the others shout a warning. Asami wasn't sure how many were left. He thought it couldn't be more than two or three. The leader probably was still alive, but there were no sounds now, only silence.
Akihito was stirring sluggishly, and before he could rouse again, Asami rolled him onto his belly and tied his hands together with strips of one of the dead man's shirt. He treated his ankles the same way, leaving only a little leeway so that Akihito would be able to hobble along at a decent pace, but he wouldn't be running anywhere.
He rolled the boy to face up again, the eerie green cast had faded a little and for a moment Akihito simply looked dazed and beaten. Asami reached up to touch his cheek tenderly, and then he tied a makeshift gag tightly around the Akihito's mouth.
By that time, he could feel Akihito's muscles begin to coil again. He could sense the exact second when that savage gaze lit on him in full awareness right before Akihito's body convulsed, and he lunged upward remarkably quick and strong despite his bonds.
With cool detachment, Asami struck the side of his head with the butt of his pistol.
He listened again, but all was silent. He hefted Akihito off the ground and slung him over his shoulder. After a moment to gather his bearings, he began walking. How long it was, he wasn't sure, but it felt like forever as the air grew colder and the weight of Akihito's limp body grew heavier.
He staggered down the sides of a creek bed. Steep banks rose on all sides. He smelled nothing but blood, and heard nothing but silence. No nocturnal creatures made a sound.
There was no warning before the beam of light spotlighted him. Caught in the little gorge there was no place to hide, and he heard a gun cock. He pointed his own in the direction of the light.
Someone laughed. "You'd do better to shoot that little beast you're carrying."
It was the leader of this debacle then. The man had them in his sights. Asami wasn't sure why they weren't dead already.
"I'd rather shoot you," he said without showing a shred of apprehension.
"Somebody beat you to it, I'm afraid." The man turned the light on himself, and Asami could see for himself the seeping wound in the man's abdomen. He could also see the black metal of the gun in his hand that didn't waver. It was pointed at Akihito rather than one of Asami's vitals.
He turned instinctively, lessening the man's view of the boy. His own gun stayed pointed at its target.
"Do you know the history of this place?" the man asked almost conversationally. "This mountain, Rausu, the name comes from an Ainu word, raushi. It means something like the 'place of men with beast-like spirit'."
A frisson of electricity sparked down his spine. He did remember Akihito saying something like that, reading from the guidebook he'd carried about. The implication was immediately clear, yet also nebulous.
"I'm not interested in a local history lesson right now. If you have a point, make it quickly."
"My great grandmother was Japanese, a fisher girl like all inhabitants of Rausa. She told stories to my grandmother, who told them to me." The man laughed again. "I never believed them until I saw your rabid little pet in the flesh."
"What stories," Asami asked, cool disdain edging his voice, hiding his true desire to hear something that would explain.
"Your pet, what's his name? Takaba Akihito, isn't it? He's tainted now. Corrupted. There's nothing that will bring him back. If you knew what was inside him now...well, you wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in his head, or better yet, carve out his black heart and bury it deep in the ground where no one will ever find it."
"You're insane," Asami said flatly, cold at the thought of any part of Akihito being tainted. "Akihito is not...he is not corrupted."
"Really? Is he often given to devouring men alive? Does he go on mindless, bloody rampages often?"
Asami's eyes narrowed to cold slits. "This is temporary. I'll fix it. He was obviously tampered with."
The man chuckled with what seemed true amusement until his laughter turned into pained coughing that held a distinctly wet sound. He spat up some blood, and then wiped his chin, grinning ruefully at Asami.
"Oh, he's been tampered with all right. Touched something he shouldn't have tonight. During the full moon nearest the equinox. A red moon too. The locals know to stay indoors on nights like this."
The little shrine...the amulet...his own odd half-remembered fascination with it. Akihito...Akihito had touched it, had knocked it over when Asami had wrenched his arm away. Asami shuddered.
Asami carefully lowered Akihito to the ground. He hadn't seen it before, but Akihito's shirt was torn and ripped, gaping open at the throat now. Rising dread filled his mouth with the taste of acrid fear. The leather cord of one of Akihito's necklaces was wrapped around the strange amulet. It hung around Akihito's neck like an overgrown, blackened tooth.
"You..." Asami swallowed to clear the hoarseness from his throat. "You didn't stay indoors."
"No." The man grinned again. "I intended to kill you. Fewer witnesses on a night like this."
"It seems you failed."
"I still have my gun."
Asami shook his head. "You would have killed us at the beginning if you had any bullets left."
The man ignored this. "Will you keep him chained up forever? Like the monster he is now? Kill him. It's the only way to release him."
No. He could never kill Akihito. But was it better for him to live like this?
No warning came before Akihito came alive in a mad, thrashing twist of limbs and growls and red tinged spittle that flew around the edges of his gag. Asami fell back with a shocked cry.
"Do you see! Kill him! It's the only way!"
Akihito managed to flip onto his stomach, and he struggled to his knees as Asami watched in mounting horror. The green, infernal light was back in his eyes, and he righted himself and took a staggering step toward Asami before his hobbled feet sent him sprawling again. He didn't stop moving.
"Kill him!"
"No. Never." Asami didn't shout, but conviction made the words ring in the dark gully. Only the soft sounds of Akihito's muted snarls offered a counterpoint.
After a moment, the man sighed. "Pity. I was hoping to see him die by your own hands before I killed you."
Akihito gave a muffled cry as a shot rang out, and he tumbled to the ground. Asami returned fire instinctively until his chamber clicked empty, and then he tossed it aside and lunged toward Akihito.
Akihito's hands broke free just as he reached him, and Akihito ripped the gag from his mouth. A piteous whine gave evidence of his new wound, but he came at Asami with full fury. The hobble tripped him up, but his arms reached to grapple.
In desperation, Asami threw him off with a twist of his hips and a knee to the guts, ripping the amulet from around Akihito's neck as he fell back. Asami staggered back and dropped the talisman.
Akihito was already up and posturing with teeth and curled fingers, muscles coiled and ready to spring. Asami raised his foot and crushed it down on the black stone and felt it shatter beneath his heel.
A nerve-rending howl ripped from Akihito, and he fell to his knees. His eyes flickered with the goblin light, and fingers curved into claws scrabbled at his own throat.
A horrible moan welled up from the depths of his body, and he hunched over his knees and threw up again and again, a steaming rivulet of blood and flesh. Shudders wracked his slim body while Asami watched helplessly.
Finally, Akihito lifted his head. Blood still smeared his features, but his face now was contorted in pain and fear and confusion.
"A...Asami? What...what happened?"
And then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he keeled over onto the damp earth of the creek bed and was still.
After several long moments, when he realized that he couldn't see because of the thick tears that fogged his vision, Asami wiped them away and tenderly picked up Akihito's limp form in his arms. He carried him to the top of the bank, and then forward, any direction. It didn't matter. He only wanted to be out of the cover of the trees, underneath the big sky to wait for the sun that surely wake his Akihito.
The chill was almost gone now, and Asami finally rested his burden on the damp grass in front of him. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wet it in the dew, and began to clean the dried blood from Akihito's face. With a small twig, he stoically cleaned the flesh from beneath his nails, and then he checked the bandages that wrapped around the grazed wounds where the bullets had hit his arm and leg. Akihito would never be told the full truth of this.
A thin line of gold limned the horizon, and a faint blush crept up gradually to color the lower half of the sky.
Akihito would wake up. Asami was certain of that. No matter that he was cold and still now. He only needed the warmth of the sun to rouse him. He would wake and be his own Akihito, strong and alive and pure.
That man had been bluffing. Asami knew that nothing could keep Akihito down for long, nothing could overcome his fighting spirit.
The first rays spread over the hilltop, and Akihito's face glowed with the soft, radiant light. Asami raised his face to greet the sun. He closed his eyes, and let it dry his damp cheeks.
A soft, trembling touch only made him squeeze his eyes more tightly shut. Was it real?
"Asami?" Akihito's voice was hoarse, but gentle and awed. "Asami, are you crying?"
Asami opened his eyes to Akihito's warm and liquid gaze. He shook his head and smiled. "I stared too long into the sun."
The End