Ashy-note Thought of the people I love and whatever. I just wanted to update, that's all. Plus, I was inspired by my GA friends' reactions to the songs I posted on AoGA, so… yeah. This one is definitely May Madness, because the pairing here is extremely different. Go easy on me, this is my first time writing an almost M-rated fic (please tell me if I have to change my rating). I'm actually proud of myself, because I'm maturing in my ways of writing, but oh well. It's all up to you, I guess.

Dedicated to Cara (Mishaa) and my dearest Ria-nee (Ria Lee)!. :D

-:|:-

Charms of Brown

One
S e d u c t i o n

You watch as Natsume tears open the envelope and reads the general gist of his next mission. The sound of ripping paper breaks through your thoughts and you see him picking out only the generalities section of the entire mission document and smile. You always found it rather amusing that the Fire had never preferred delving into details. Somehow it seemed to you a little arrogant and yet at the same time a little cowardly.

You also watch the sixteen-year-old's reaction to his next assassination mission and you darkly chuckle when the boy makes a slight face of disgust before he throws you back the brown package and saunters away.

"Oi, kuro neko, don't fail this mission," you say to him loudly as an afterthought, if only to irritate him even more than was completely necessary. The boy raises a rude hand gesture at you, and yet, instead of feeling insulted and disrespected, you feel even more amused.

Really, your black cat was the best at regular entertainment.

Thoughtfully you take look at the envelope, contemplating ways to destroy it, and you settle for the easiest one, which was to turn it into ashes. The black soot falls to the ground at your feet, and with a satisfied smirk you prepare yourself to leave when you suddenly hear rustling behind the bush to your right, and before you could take a single step towards the plant, Mikan Sakura jumps out.

She has a look of anger that you couldn't help but think is adorable.

And useless.

"Stop making Natsume go into those kinds of missions!" she screams at you. She lunges, and hits your chest, pummeling it. Or at least, that was what she thinks she's doing, because in all honesty, you couldn't feel anything more than just small little thumps. "Stop it, you monster! Stop trying to get him killed!"

You figure you'd like to taunt her a bit, so instead of fleeing (as you usually do when she's around), you stop a moment and decide to have playtime with your black cat's favorite girl.

You hold her wrists to stop her from hitting you and the anger evident in her face aroused within you this weird thing, this other monster, and you find you're caught in the moment. You suddenly notice things about the girl, like her brown eyes, and her brown hair. Of course, you detest her because she's the reminder of the crime you had committed years and years ago with her father (not that you even feel anything so much as guilt anymore), but you wouldn't be a true man if you say she wasn't beautiful.

Because goddammit, she's a piece of art.

"Do you really want to kill Natsume?" she spits at you, viciously struggling against your fierce grip. You smile at her, you shake your head violently until the mask falls off your face.

She gasps at your true image.

In truth you weren't vain. You never had much of a flame for your appearance. But you know you're handsome. You have a fair judgment of what you look like now, rather than before, and so you consider yourself rather beautiful.

You feel elated at her gasp. Flattered, even.

"I don't want to kill my black cat, Ko neko," you hiss at her, staring at her dead on the eyes, "and even if I wanted to, I could never because that boy is good."

"Then kill yourself instead!"

"Now that isn't something I can't do," you tell her patiently, licking your lips as you eye longing at the long stretch of neck that she has, inviting you to plant your hands around them and crush them. Or maybe kiss them until they're red raw.

You notice that your thoughts are taking a dangerous route, but you let it pass.

In vain she struggles still and you just watch her as she arises within you different kinds of psychological reactions that make you feel a clawing need within you. You rarely get to feel this manly part of you. Better yet, you rarely get to feel anything at all, so you watch, and you see things, feel things, hear things...

See her flushed cheeks, feel the fast pump of blood that coursed through her wrists, feel her chest touching lightly against yours with her bid for freedom, feel the spurts of her breath as she breathes fiercely, smells her wonderful smell of mingled jasmines and roses and strawberries...

Watch as her face comes dangerously close to yours...

Before you know it, you lean in to plant a violent kiss on her lips.

HAHA. May Madness, right? Might as well be completely demented. (:

~Ash.