Title: Poison
Summary: He hates her, but he can't let go. She's his parasite, his poison. KaiMimi
For Lamanth, on her 21st birthdady. Love you so incredibly much, Cloud, enjoy your day!! (and the fic?)
The sun was low in the sky, a glowing molten sphere, hanging in the sky and bleeding its essence into shades of pink and yellow that crisscrossed the darkening sky. Kai leaned on the rails of the bridge and watched as the soft light dappled his bare arms. It was peaceful here, away from all the noise and arguments of bladers trying to decide what would happen for the next tournament. He didn't care. He wasn't even sure if he'd still be blading by then.
He was so involved in his melancholy thoughts that he failed to hear Max approaching, his trainers thudding over the bridge, until a hand fell on his shoulder.
"Kai?" Max stared at Kai's face with a peculiar intensity that Kai found only too familiar, and he fought to urge to cover his scarred face and cloudy eye with a hand.
"What?" he snapped. Max held up both hands placatingly.
"Were you in a fight or something?" Kai blinked, waiting patiently for that sentence to make sense. Ah, right. Reflexively, he touched the dark bruise on his jaw and repressed a flinch.
"No, just a battle that went wrong."
"Oh. Ok, then." He's not convinced, shit! Kai's mind raced, panicked, but he kept his gaze steady on Max's. Don't look away, don't flinch, don't say a fucking word, ok? "You sure you're ok, pal? You haven't been around much."
"When is he ever around?" Kai's eyes narrowed in distaste as Brooklyn came up to them and slung an arm over Max's shoulders. A thousand snarling replies whirled through his head but he chose none of them, recognising the futility of verbal combat with Brooklyn and instead, simply stared at him with icy loathing. Brooklyn looked around him slowly, asserting that they had an audience, his face perfectly smooth, eyes merry. "Oh, I'm so scared, Kai."
"So you should be." Max looked from one to the other nervously and pulled at Brooklyn's arm.
"Brook, leave it, you're just being a-" Brooklyn shook him off and took a step closer to Kai, smiling as he realised his height advantage.
"Scared of who? A battered old-generation blader who can't admit that he'll never be World Champ?" Max disappeared from Kai's line of sight. "Someone who's too afraid of himself to commit to friendships?"
"Look who's talking!" Kai hissed through clenched teeth.
"Yes, let's." Brooklyn reached up and scratched his neck, intentionally shifting the neck of his jumper to reveal a lovebite just above his collarbone. "I'm in a relationship, Kai, one that I intend to stick with. Are you?" Kai didn't answer, using what remaining restraint he possessed to keep his temper. "Of course you're not." Something indefinable changed in Brooklyn's face and the darkness of his pupils seemed to swirl and grow as he took another step forward towards Kai. "You're a pathetic, half-blind cowar - " He broke off, putting both arms up in a feeble defence as Kai's self-control, tested to its limits for painful, seemingly endless months, finally snapped.
Kai's mouth split into an unsteady grin as his fist met Brooklyn's perfect face with a meaty crunch. Pulling back, bouncing on the balls of his feet as old habits came crashing back, he felt adrenalin and hatred rush through him a heady mix, and delivered another vicious punch that snapped Brooklyn's head backwards like a whip.
"Hey! Hey, Kai, that's enough, cool it, come on, back off ..." He struggled wildly against the two, three, four people holding him back, and got one long, satisfying look at Brooklyn's swollen face, with blood dribbling from his mouth and nose before his legs were kicked from underneath him and someone dragged him off the bridge and pinned him to the ground. The silence that fell as he lay there with his face in the dirt, struggling to catch his breath, to stop his emotions from overwhelming him, was the loudest he could remember.
"You gonna calm down?" Rick asked eventually, loosening his hold on Kai's hair enough to allow him to nod. Kai grunted non-commitedly. "Gimme an answer, tough guy." Ugh, he'd almost forgotten how much he disliked Rick. Why did Max have to associate with such awful people?
"Whatever. Lemme the fuck up." he mumbled at last.
"Not until you-"
"Rick!" At Max's reproach, Rick reluctantly stood up, "accidentally" kicking him as he stood. Oh, so happy to know the feeling's mutual, Kai taunted in his head, waiting for the strength to get up to seep back into his throbbing body. Rick was far too heavy to be sitting on people, in his opinion.
"Kai." He looked up to see Ray stretching out a hand to help him up. Accepting it, he got slowly to his feet and shut his eyes instantly to avoid the stares that he could feel, like little electric shocks.
"What was that about?" Tyson demanded. Avoiding the question, Kai asked instead,
"You learnt your lesson, Brooklyn?"
"Yeah, I have, as a matter of fact. Thanks." He opened his eyes to see Brooklyn looking at him with that infuriating smile on his face and the double meaning of his answer dancing in his eyes. He knew Kai's weak spot now. He could twist the metaphorical knife whenever he wanted. Kai snorted in reply and turned away, his temper boiling and bubbling and eating at him like acid.
He had to get away.
"Kai! Where're you going?" Tyson called after him. He didn't react with so much as a blink, just kept going, heading for the town and the rented flat that offered him a temporary home.
"Kai!" Max and Ray yelled in unison. Without looking behind or slowing his pace, he reached out into mid-air beside him and caught his launcher that he had left with Kenny and Emily earlier for improvements. Those fools were always so impressed by stunts like that; they never seemed to realise that they could do it too, if they only tried. All of them could catch their beyblade without needing to look, so why not the launcher? Idiots.
"Hey, Kai! Wait up!" This time, he turned. Ming-Ming was running towards him, eyes wide and earnest. "Wait for me!" He slowed just enough to force her to keep running, savouring this tiny victory over someone at last. She reached him near the boundary of trees where they would lose sight of the other bladers and stood facing him, smiling hopefully up at him, huge dark eyes appealing. Looking into the distance, Kai saw amused grins on numerous bladers' faces at the young woman's naivety, and a few looks of something else, too. Even dressed as she was in a relatively shapeless, nearly floor-length dark red dress, her curves, delicate features and tanned skin made her desirable. Her girlish looks simply intensified the impression - forbidden fruit tastes sweeter, said one or two hopefuls to each other.
It was well know that she had been "chasing" Kai for months.
With a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, he carried on walking, with Ming-Ming following happily. They disappeared into the trees separating the park from the town, and, hidden from sight by the greenery, Ming-Ming suddenly shoved him against a tree trunk and prodded the livid bruise, the same one Max had commented on earlier, with a satisfied smile.
What wasn't well-known was that she had caught him.
"You're such a wimp." she whispered, staring at him with a look that was frighteningly devoid of any affection. "Why did you let them overpower you like that?" Kai opened his mouth to protest. To do what she wanted - to use Dranzer - would have resulted in facing five other bit-beasts that he had no hope of defeating all together like that. It would have meant his immediate exclusion from any matches for an indefinite period of time. He wasn't a wimp!
Her eyes bored into his, and he closed his mouth without having uttered a sound. Maybe he was. After all, he had let this ... parasite into his life, and now, even to think of escape was a mere fantasy.
It had started with a drink-fuelled kiss six months back, in a bar that neither of them would have been seen dead in if they were in any state to care. Of course, the kiss had led to much more, and Kai had found himself surprised by how knowledgeable the sixteen year-old was. He had eventually come to with the mother of all hangovers in an alleyway, wrapped in her coat and aching all over. Curious, he had sought her out and agreed to another night of lust, this time ensuring that his drinking didn't get too out of hand. To his surprise, even without the rose-tinted glasses of blind intoxication, she was good, Very good. Better than most.
Things had continued in this pattern for about two weeks until he became aware that the thing he liked most about her - her refusal to submit - was turning into a demand to dominate.
It was when she struck the first blow that he backed out.
It was when she looked at him with those huge dark eyes, brimming with contempt, and asked lightly if he usually ran away from girls, that he dived back in.
At first, it wasn't too bad. He wasn't averse to letting a girl top every now and again, and she was after all, one of the best at it. Then, things started going downhill. Handcuffs, other type of bondage, S&M, role-plays where she was the aggressor. Still, he had never been a guy to stick to the missionary position and during some of it he found himself positively encouraging her. Even when she had started insulting him every day, every other comment, he considered himself more than able to withstand it.
The crunch came when she came into his flat, wandering around and fixing herself a drink as if it was her own home. Blood boiling he had told her, in no small way, to get the hell out of his home. She had looked up at him with those huge eyes and smiled a slow smile. He had raised his fist, tightly clenched, and struck her on the shoulder sending her sprawling backwards onto the floor. Slowly, she had risen to his feet, staring at him with utter confidence, and uttered a torrent of abuse, getting closer with every step. He had cringed backwards before he knew what he was doing, submitted. He realised then with a cold burst of fright that he was under her control.
She slept at his flat now. Had kicked him out once or twice, ate his food, drank his drink, followed him wherever he went; shops, BBA headquarters, Tyson's dojo, nowhere was he safe from her whispered curse, swift kicks and pinches with long nails.
Why didn't he get out? He had asked himself that so many times and still didn't know the answer. He was physically stronger, he had many other places he could stay. That he could be so completely under the thumb of a tiny sixteen year-old rubbed viciously against the grain, because that was what he was. Under her thumb. Reduced to obedience to avoid another slur to his name, intelligence, bravery, or blading ability, to avoid a reoccurrence of the horror of a week back, where she had stamped on his crotch with stiletto heels and ground him, screaming, into the ground.
Brought back to the present as she let go of him, he closed his eyes and wished himself back half a year. None of this should ever have happened. He was Kai Hiwatari, one of the most feared bladers worldwide ... now look at him.
"Look at me." Thinking for a second that he had merely spoken aloud, he didn't react. "Look at me!" He opened his eyes and involuntarily caught his breath. She was standing there completely naked, shivering slightly in the cool evening air. "Don't you like me?" He managed a faint smile.
"I loathe you."
"I know you do." She knelt before him and kissed him fiercely. He responded instantly, and she wrapped both arms around him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Something inside him turned sour and screamed at him, demanding why he still accepted her advances, invited them even.
But as he undid his trousers, he knew the answer to that. Pure, blind lust.
No matter what she did to him, he would always want her, this parasite that had invaded every corner of his life, his body, his psyche, who wanted him as well.
Five hours later, as he downed bottle after bottle of wine in a futile hope that her weight would disappear from where it was comfortably rested against his side, his arm tightened around her. The rage awakened in his fight with Brooklyn was still there, hot and thick in his veins, but he might as well have wished to fly to the Sun than to smash the bottle over her head.
"You're poison, you bitch," he thought dizzily. "But so's this." He waved the empty bottle loosely, not caring when it fell to the floor and cracked in five places. "And I can't give up either of you."
Thanks to Bia for beta-reading this for me!! (glomps)
Well? What did you think?