Unpredictable
Kamui left the Diet Building later than he expected. The streets were already mostly empty, and he walked alone. It was a cold night, and he subconsciously wished that he had thought twice before visiting the princess in his school uniform. But he pushed the irrelevant thought away to ponder on other, more important things. For instance . . . the end of the world.
He had tried so hard not to believe it, to pretend that he didn't care, but it was useless. His friends had died anyway, and he was constantly forced to stop what he was doing to help one of the other Seals. It wasn't like him at all. He didn't want this kind of life. Often, he wished for a normal, quiet life with normal friends and normal dogs – people he could be comfortable with and not have to help save the world. But fate was turning the gears on its own, and Kamui was given no choice but to follow his destiny. Still, it couldn't hurt to wish.
Halfway down the street he stopped. Someone was following him. If it was those retarded cursed zombies, well, such is life. But if it was . . .
"I found you, Kamui."
It was.
"You can't hide from me forever, you know. Sooner or later, we were bound to meet up. After all, you can't realize your wish without me."
Kamui started to walk again. Not now, please not now. He was tired and cold, and facing Fuuma was no small feat. He still sensed Fuuma silently treading behind him, and started to walk faster. He knew it was no use. Fuuma was bigger and faster and . . . stronger. It was only a matter of time before those strong arms wrapped around his midsection and pulled him in close.
"Don't, Fuuma!" he snapped. He tried to swivel his hips and twist away, but the grip only tightened. He scowled.
"Seems I've caught you in a fine mood today," whispered Fuuma into Kamui's ear, smiling. "What's got you all out of sorts, eh?" He playfully nipped the boy's ear, making him squirm deliciously. "I haven't seen you for so long . . . How about we do a little catching up?" Kamui moaned softly as Fuuma slid his hand down his side and caught his hips in an iron embrace. He knew that resisting Fuuma would end up hurting him in more ways than one, so he let Fuuma drag him to a bus stop a few feet away.
In no time, a bus pulled up, nearly empty, and both boys climbed on, Fuuma keeping one arm wrapped protectively around Kamui's waist at all times. The only other person on the bus was some strange hobo man with a long rusty beard and a dirty overcoat. He winked at Kamui as they passed by him on their way to the back of the bus.
"Now listen carefully, Kamui," said Fuuma once they were seated. "Tonight, there is no 'I must save the world' stuff, okay? It's just us together as friends."
"But you're not my friend. You're corrupt and murderous and vile and evil and . . . and evil!"
"Come now, you mustn't speak ill of your elders. They could do terrible things to you." Kamui's eyes widened as Fuuma smirked incredibly malevolently. He tried to scoot away from the older man but hit his head painfully on the glass window. Fuuma took the golden opportunity to pull the boy backwards and onto his lap.
"S'cuse me ya younguns. Mind if I share with you some old tips to get ya going there?" The old hobo man sat down hard next to Fuuma and smiled at them with gapped teeth.
"Be my guest," Fuuma smirked. Kamui moaned. This was going to be a long night.
"She sure is a pretty thang, mister! Where'd ya find her?" The hobo leaned in close to Kamui, who wrinkled his nose. The man smelled of cigarettes and sour milk.
"Oh, Kamui's not a girl," said Fuuma slyly, pressing his hand flat against the boys' chest. "But he is exceptionally beautiful."
The hobo man gaped at Fuuma, then at Kamui, then back at Fuuma again. Then the bus screeched to a halt.
"Um, th-that's my stop! See you around, younguns!" The old hobo man skittered down the aisle and out the door.
"Come to think of it, this is our stop too, Kamui. Finally some peace."
Peace? PEACE?! With YOU?! Kamui thought. He stomped down the aisle and hopped off the bus. There was no way he was going to be Fuuma's little pet tonight, no sir! He would hitchhike back to his apartment if he had to. Anything was better than a whole night alone with Fuuma. He angrily stomped down the sidewalk. But he was interrupted by a firm hand tugging on his hair.
"Ah-ah-ah! Where you do think you're going?"
Damn you Fuuma.
"Think you can scuttle off while I pay the good bus driver? That's bad behavior and it needs to be punished." Kamui could hear Fuuma's smile as he said the last part. He couldn't take it anymore.
"I AM NOT YOUR PERSONAL PLAYTOY! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUOR WHY YOU ARE SO OBSESSED WITH ME! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! STOP MESSING WITH MY LIFE AND GET YOUR OWN!"
"Wheet- whoo! You go girl!" called a female hobo from the other side of the street. Kamui blushed, realizing that they were in a hobo hotspot. Hobos watched them from all sides.
"That's them," said the rusty-bearded hobo to a thin wormy old woman hobo. "Those are the people from the bus."
"Land sakes!" she cried, and whispered something hobo-ish to another hobo.
"Come on let's get out of here," said Fuuma, annoyed that his precious one had been mistaken for a girl for the second time in ten minutes. He dragged Kamui to the entrance of a large building with few windows.
"Whoa whoa whoa! What is this place?"
Fuuma smirked and leaned in close to Kamui. "I rented us a room for the night. It's time for you to grow up, Kamui."
"What?"
"It's a love hotel."
"!!!!"
Kamui awoke to find himself still fully dressed and lying on a leather couch. He could hear Fuuma humming a little tune somewhere. Moments later, the man himself walked into the room carrying a rectangular box. Kamui sat up.
"Ah! You're awake! How do you feel?"
"What happened to me?"
"You fainted dead away after you ran screaming into the brick wall on the side of the hotel. I had to carry all the way up here. By the way, we're in Room 1999."
"What level?"
"Uh, floor thirteen. Why?"
"I was wondering how far I'd have to fall after I jumped out the window."
"Ha-ha. Good one. Oh! Want some chocolate? It's absolutely delicious."
Fuuma placed a square of chocolate on Kamui's head and sat down next to him on the couch, munching another piece. Kamui gingerly took the piece off his head and examined it thoroughly before popping it into his mouth. He chewed it quickly, watching as Fuuma took another piece of chocolate out of the box and stuffed it in his mouth.
"Where'd you get this?" asked Kamui after Fuuma swallowed.
"There's a little shop in the lobby that sells chocolate and post cards." Fuuma popped another square of chocolate into his mouth as Kamui pondered on why a love hotel would sell postcards.
"You know, you're really different," he said after a while.
"How so?" asked Fuuma munching on yet another square of chocolate.
"For one thing, you're completely devouring a whole box of chocolate by yourself. And another, you're not being evil."
"I said before, we're not going to have any of the 'destroy the earth' stuff tonight. Let's have a relaxing night for once."
"But you're not smashing buildings or torturing me. That's odd."
"What, you want me to torture you?" Fuuma smirked. "So you do like it?"
"NO! No, that's not what I meant at all! I just . . . you're so . . . I can't . . ."
"Hush. You don't need to worry. You're perfectly safe with me." Kamui wondered on when the last time was when "safe" and "Fuuma" had been in the same sentence.
"And now that I have been properly nourished, let's get down to business," said Fuuma rising. "Are you coming?"
"What? Where?"
"To the bedroom of course."
"No. No! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"Be quiet Kamui. Don't make me come over there." But Kamui continued to scream and beat the couch with his fists.
Two floors below, Seishirou Sakurazuka looked up from the little adventure of his own and listened to the perpetual screaming. He thought for a moment, and then looked down at the boy beneath him.
"Seems we have competition," he said slyly. And that's the end of that story.
"Kamui! Kamui! Knock it off!" Fuuma threw the empty chocolate box across the room and grabbed Kamui's neck. "Had I known how difficult this was going to be, I wouldn't have bothered giving you a night off and destroyed the Yamanote Line ahead of schedule! Now, will you please be quiet?!" Kamui gasped for breath, struggling in Fuuma's grip.
"Can't . . . breathe . . . Fuu . . . ma . . ."
"If I let go, will you be quiet?" Kamui nodded. Fuuma released him and stepped back as Kamui coughed and took great gulps of air. "Now then, as to what I want to do . . ." He caught a still gasping Kamui up in his arms and carried him out of the room. He laid the boy carefully down on a gigantic bed and proceeded to unbutton his shirt.
"No, please . . ." whispered Kamui, eyes fluttering closed as he felt Fuuma's fingers brush against his skin. "Please . . . don't." He felt Fuuma slide a hand behind his back and raise him off of the sheets. Why was he so helpless? He felt so tired, unable to move his arms to brush away Fuuma's. What was happening to him? Fuuma pulled the useless shirt off of the boy's body and tossed it to the side. He ran his fingers down Kamui's exposed sides, making the boy squirm.
"No . . . stop! No . . . Fuuma-mmmmmffff!" Kamui's violet eyes widened as Fuuma kissed him. He was completely frozen, drowning in the ecstasy of the situation. What's wrong with me? He couldn't move, completely focused on the solitary fact that he was being kissed by his evil Twin Star that killed his previous girlfriend and tried to destroy a million kekkais every day. The same man who swore that the next time they'd meet, Kamui would die. And the same man who . . . What did all that matter? Kamui was safe. He was . . . happy. As Fuuma finally released him, he didn't try to smack him or scream, which were his previous intentions. He watched Fuuma with heavy-lidded eyes, eagerly guessing what he was going to do next.
Fuuma noticed the wonderful change in Kamui right off the bat. He smirked, congratulating himself on finally lowering the boy's guard. Ah, Kamui was always so trusting in him, willing to believe that anything was possible – that he could indeed bring Fuuma back if he tried hard enough. But Kamui was about to learn a little lesson. And it would be so nice to hear him sing again. But first, he'd have to play the game a little longer. He leaned in close to the boy and stroked his fine dark hair. Kamui closed his eyes, his breathing steady. Fuuma snorted. Talk about easy! The pretty little thing was already asleep. Evil thoughts raced through Fuuma's mind as he contemplated on how to proceed from here on out. Then he noticed that Kamui's pants were still fully protecting him. And that was a problem that needed to be fixed.
The fourth night that Kamui went to the love hotel was a warm one, and Kamui wore a regular T-shirt and jeans. It didn't really matter what he wore anyway, he thought smiling, as he rode the bus alone. Fuuma would be waiting in their room. He knew Kamui would come back. The boy was always so predictable.
On his way into the hotel, he bumped into a man who came rushing out clothed only in a white trench coat. The man took off running down the street as Kamui watched him, wondering what kind of girl had scared him so bad. But seconds later, a man rushed out of the building after the first calling, "Come back! It was a rushed decision! I'm sorry!" Kamui stood there for a few seconds, wondering whether to scream as he heard the man call out "SUBARU-KUN!", or to celebrate that he wasn't the only gay one in the building. He decided on just ignoring it and proceeding to his room.
When he opened the door, the room was completely dark, and Fuuma was nowhere in sight. Kamui removed his shoes and walked into the room. Fuuma was probably just late. He would wait for him in the room.
A few minutes passed, and Kamui decided to turn on the light. Then Fuuma would know he was already there. He walked across the room and reached for the switch. Suddenly his outstretched arm was snapped behind him and he was pulled roughly into someone's arms.
"Fuuma! Ow! What are you – AH-ah!" Fuuma jerked Kamui's arm up painfully.
"I'm tired of doing the same thing over and over again. Let's do something different tonight."
Kamui collided painfully with the side of the wall and slid to the floor, tears in his eyes. Fuuma advanced on him, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling him up. Kamui stared at him with glazed eyes, silently pleading. Fuuma stared at him coldly, then ran his hand down the boy's arm until he caught it at the wrist and brought it up to his lips.
"Fuuma . . . why? I thought you . . ."
"You thought I was your friend?" Fuuma asked slyly, bending Kamui's wrist slowly backwards. "That's where you're wrong. You see Kamui, you're so predictable. You're always willing to trust that there's a good side to everyone – that it's easy to 'bring someone back.' I guess you haven't learned that you can't win against me. You can't."
Ribbons of pain snaked through Kamui's arm as Fuuma continued to bend the wrist backwards. He had been foolish to trust in Fuuma. It was just a game, making him willing to believe and exposed and . . . totally alone. Already, the man's arm was retracting, his hand becoming straight and pointed, ready to pierce through Kamui's chest and finally destroy him. A triumphant look played across Fuuma's face as he whispered, "Goodbye, Kamui."
BAM! BAM! BAM! "Hello? Hello? You in there, pal?" BAM! BAM! BAM!
Fuuma rolled his eyes as someone continued to pound on the door. He released Kamui and stomped toward the door angrily before swinging it open. Standing outside was about twenty men in black pinstripe suits and black fedoras. Their leader, the tallest man in the front, stepped into the room.
"Alright pal, your gangsta days are over. Either you come quietly or things are gonna look bad for you. Ya hear me, pal?" The rest of the men nodded somberly. A few cracked their knuckles.
"What?" Fuuma was dumbstruck. Kamui painfully sat up and watched the odd goings-on.
"Don't act like you don't know what I'm sayin, punk. Now come before things get outta hand. Don't wanna disturb the lovers, see?" The tall man nodded, and four men pushed past Fuuma into the room. One of them spotted Kamui and signaled the other three. They lifted him off the ground and set him on the bed before returning to the rest of the people.
"Who are you?!" asked Fuuma, his eyes flashing angrily.
"I'm the guy that's arresting you, pal. And I'm doing it now." In a flash, Fuuma was handcuffed and herded out the door by twenty striped men.
"Fuuma!" cried Kamui, jumping off the bed and rushing out the door. "Fuuma! Fuuma!"
The men turned and watched as Kamui stumbled toward them in the hall. Fuuma watched as well, amused. The leader man cleared his throat.
"Alright kid, say your last goodbyes." The twenty men stepped to the side, and Kamui ran to Fuuma, but stopped short. Fuuma smirked. All of a sudden, Fuuma's arms were around Kamui, who flinched. But Fuuma smiled, and then kissed the boy.
"Later, Kamui."
And he was led away as Kamui stood, watching him go. He watched them until they disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Then Kamui smiled.
"You're so unpredictable, Fuuma."
And with that, he left the hotel for good.
Two hours later, Fuuma watched the ambulance arrive to take the twenty men to the hospital. Each of the little pigs were loaded into the back of the Aid Car and rushed to the nearby hospital. Defeating those little swine was easy. Even Kamui could have done it. Fuuma leaned against the billboard and sighed. Kamui. He would see him again soon.
"It's been fun. But now it's time for me to do what I set out to do. And no one can stop me. Not even you, Kamui."
He leapt from the billboard and flew into the night.
The End