Disclaimer: I do not own Loveless.
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No Turning Back
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There was no turning back now. He needed to disappear. If he had had some doubts earlier, he had none at that moment. With the Septimal Moon guarding their secrets and arming against him, hoping to dispose of the threat he had become, Aoyagi Seimei had to vanish. Had to die. And it was only his choice whether he was going down hunted down by them or by his own hand.
There was no choice.
The only person worthy of defeating Aoyagi Seimei was Aoyagi Seimei himself, so it was him who was going to plan and perform his own demise, on his own terms. Confident of that, Seimei had every single step of his scheme written down and carefully laid out, with no room for mistakes. The only problem arising was concerning his partner in crime, the person pretty much responsible for putting the perfect plan into action. Seimei's most trusted person. And Seimei trusted no one.
He grimaced, shifting on a cushion he was sitting on, leaning against a wall. Before him, his fighter – Agatsuma Soubi – was engrossed in yet another of his pitiful paintings, a school assignment. The man was an ideal choice: devoted, loyal, obedient and *unbeatable*. Watching the synchronised motions of his long nimble fingers, self-assured yet delicate strokes of a soft brush, Seimei was growing more and more pleased with a creature his fighter was. Yes, that man was never going to fail him, his whole being a fascinating mixture of skill, modesty, fierceness and fragility.
The painter stretched over his canvas, applying a touch of light blue, his shirt's collar opening a little, revealing bandages covering his name. Seimei let himself smile, knowing Soubi would not notice that.
- Soubi – he called almost inaudibly, but the blonde instantly turned his head towards the younger male – Tell me, who am I for you? – idly, Seimei played with his belt buckle, seemingly unconcerned with the upcoming answer.
The fighter silently put the brush down, his full focus on his Master now. He gracefully lowered his head, a soft smile ghosting on his pale lips.
- My God – came a simple reply.
Aoyagi's mouth's corner lifted a little, but he still didn't spare his fighter a glance.
- A god, you say – he mused – But aren't gods supposed to be merciful?
- Gods are supposed to be unerring – Soubi was swayed, his baritone never faltering.
There was nothing more to say about that. Silence descended on the room with Soubi not daring to speak up, with Seimei deep in his thoughts.
- And if your God told you to commit a murder? – Seimei's emotionless tone was at odds with his serious query, the effect emphasised by his slumped figure.
Soubi didn't even blink.
- I'd do that.
- Ah.
Silence. A fly could be heard trying to get out through a closed window. Seimei flexed his fingers, absent-mindly tracing the "Beloved" name on his left palm.
- And if your God was to die? – he combed his locks with his fingers, finally looking at Soubi, his purple eyes glowing with calculating curiosity.
Soubi gulped, the concept impossible to imagine, so petrifying he was *afraid* to imagine it. There was something weird in those dark pupils, like a real uncertainty. If there was a thing that was unnerving stoic Aoyagi, it didn't bode well for the future.
- I'd give up my life protecting you – it was only natural. Fighters died defending their sacrifices, units always went down together, side by side.
A frown marred the smooth forehead of the sacrifice.
- I see – he nodded – But then, there is always a possibility of me dying in an accident unrelated to fighting. A car crash. A gas burst. A fire – he listed coldly, his irises enlarging.
Soubi shivered, an icy dread engulfing his heart. Seimei was right, as always. He could never protect him from such accidents. The fighter felt like running and snatching Seimei with him, never letting him get out of his grasp, never allowing him to leave his arms. That way, if an accident was to occur, they would face it together.
Only Seimei would never agree to be touched by his fighter.
- So – the sacrifice continued maliciously – If I were to disappear forever, what would you do?
- I'd die – Soubi's white lips barely moved, but he somehow felt at peace. That was the truth, without his Sacrifice, he wouldn't be able to go on living, Seimei being his only life force and purpose.
Purple eyes narrowed.
- And if I forbade you to leave this world?
Again, Soubi's body went numb. Forbade? Being forced to live with his failure, the knowledge of the greatest flaw a fighter could possess? To function without his beloved Sacrifice, without Seimei's smooth voice, his deep eyes, the attention he graciously bestowed upon his worthless fighter?
- I'd live – he whispered, a sense of signing away his very own soul overwhelming his tortured mind. On the outside, he remained as devoid of emotion as usually.
A real smile lightening up Seimei's pale features.
- Good.
...
The moment Seimei stepped into his dark room, he knew of the another's presence. Without further ado, he turned the lights on, strolling to his desk. With his back towards his bed, he began organising some books leisurely, aware of the heated glare he was receiving.
Finally, he turned with an annoyed sigh.
His bed had been being contaminated by his so-called "true" fighter for Gods only knew how long, the wiry figure reclining on his bed sheets in a cheeky manner. Nisei was keenly observing him with his almost black eyes and Seimei had to refrain himself from gagging at the sight of a wet stain on the fighter's side.
Nisei must have noticed his disgusted look, for he smirked.
- Aaah, ya. An occupational accident – he chuckled unpleasantly, arching his back.
- Get out of my bed – Seimei spat chillingly, not wishing to wonder what had "occupied" his fighter's mind when the "accident" had happened. Indeed, Nisei was a repulsing creature.
The repulsing creature took its sweet time removing itself from the covers, stretching, yawning and displaying its questionable assets. The fighter placed himself in the darkest corner, one which the lamp's light barely reached.
The following minutes were spent in freezing silence, with both parties observing each other, trying to appear unconcerned at the same time.
- Oye – Nisei couldn't contain himself any longer – You've seen him again, haven't you?
- Who? – Seimei arched his eyebrow, his demeanour as frosty as a winter's night. But Nisei wasn't a person easily picking up other's mood or even if he did, he still disregarded it completely.
- That prick, Agatsuma – the fighter snapped, irritated with his Sacrifice's constant ventures with the blonde. Damn, Seimei was meant for him and only for *him*, with no place for some pitiful blank – You fucking adore him, running to him on every chance you have, wagging your tail at him – the small male's thin face was contorted unpleasantly.
Seimei regarded him with amusement.
- He craves my presence constantly, so I indulge him. Aren't *you* even more pathetic running after a person who never seeks you out?
Nisei balled his small fists, his face going from pale to white as a ghost. Seimei snickered, confident he had hit the right button.
- You are *mine* - the fighter gritted out, his left canine flashing.
Seimei advanced with a furious expression, making the skinny male back away despite his threatening pose. In a second, his swan-like neck was constricted in a steely hold.
- You don't have the slightest right to me – Seimei reminded him sternly – It's me who owns you – he pushed his fighter away, throwing him at a wall. Dazed at first, Nisei quickly recovered, coughing and massaging his windpipe.
- But you still *need* me – his raspy tone held a note of triumph.
- Just like any other tool – Seimei deadpanned, but the dark man only smirked, hearing a faint wavering in the normally unhesitating baritone.
Nisei propped himself on a small table, crossing his arms smugly.
Seimei acted as if he had forgotten all about his fighter, which was fine as far as Nisei was concerned, given his small victory. He had never wanted anyone near him in his entire life aside from Seimei and he was determined to get him exclusively. There was literally nothing that was going to prevent him from achieving this goal, his resolve unmatched, bordering on obsession. If he played his cards well, his Sacrifice may even end up helping him in that, especially as Seimei seemed to be preoccupied with some serious idea these days. Nisei prayed (a figure of speech, he didn't believe in any deity) it had something to do with the Septimal Moon, as he had been the one included in every single scheme concerning them – he had made sure of that, with vague allusions and perfect manipulations, ensuring his position as the one as necessary to Seimei as the air he breathed. Ya, his Amado was soon going to be his.
- Now you know what you are for me, who am I for you? – Seimei inquired from his seat at the desk.
Nisei fought down and urge to smirk broadly. Oh yes, how nicely the moth was flying towards the candle.
- Mi Amado – frankly, it was the truth, surprisingly suiting his plans better than the smoothest lie.
Seimei grimaced, not as much at the idea of being "loved" by a lowlife like Nisei as at the certainty the psychopath he was facing right now was hoaxing him – Akame had proved being completely devoid of human emotions, making a love confession coming from his lips a sacrilege.
But he was a useful psychopath. As long as he was able to control him, Seimei desperately needed him, as he irresponsibly entrusted him with his plans.
- How about a world without your "Beloved"? – he mocked Nisei's nickname for him – What would you do if I were to die?
That threw Nisei off track. Die? What was Seimei implying? He was ready to ridicule him when a thought of Seimei suffering from a fatal disease came to his mind unbidden. He felt his palms sweating, but managed to keep a straight face.
- Fiesta – he teased, inwardly dreading the sacrifice's reaction – I'd drink myself into insensibility with happiness, then slit my wrists – he wouldn't let Seimei flee into death, no matter what. The sacrifice wouldn't be allowed to cheat on him like that, he was destined to be Nisei's just like Nisei was meant to be Seimei's, so Nisei would make damn sure Seimei wasn't going to be with anyone else after his demise.
It wasn't an answer Seimei had been expecting, but it pleased him nevertheless to hear that despite his tough act, Nisei was as dependent on him as any other good fighter should be.
- And if I forbade you to?
Nisei halted opening his mouth to reply he'd obey. Wait, no fucking way! He'd be doomed to live who knows how long here, while Seimei would be partying with others in Hades? Screw the rules, he wasn't going to let that happen, he had achieved too much in stealing Seimei's independence to allow him to run away that easily.
- I'd still do it – his voice was even and as dark as the night outside – It may be your order, but my fate is to be at your side always. Even if I didn't kill myself, my soul will wither with grief and longing, fleeing the shell of my body, running after its second half – he closed his eyes, half awaiting the blow, half shocked with his own words.
Seimei felt something weird and tried to shake himself out of it, whatever it was. To no avail.
- You're openly speaking about disobeying me – he commented with disgust – How dare you? Is your loyalty that feeble?
Nisei pressed his lips so tightly they hurt, but remained silent. If his intuition wasn't deceiving him, his foolishly emotional confession had just bought him a ticket to the future by Seimei's side.
- You truly are low – Seimei carried on cruelly – Get out.
- Oooh, how mean – Nisei chuckled, coming to Seimei's side, lightly brushing their bodies together – Don't you want me to guard you against the little monsters from under your bed? They are really loud, sabes, they couldn't stay quiet when I was here.
Seimei jumped away from him as if the fighter burnt, giving him an incredulous look. Akame had always appeared to be not quite right in his head, but that was a pure lunacy!
- Get out! – he shrieked a little childishly, pointing his finger towards balcony door.
- Your loss – Nisei shrugged – Don't whine if you can't sleep because of their noises. They were saying there's going to be la fiesta tonight – he waltzed out, leaving a stunned sacrifice behind.
...
Soubi's phone vibrated, drawing the blonde's attention away from his professor, who was in the middle of a lecture about early Japanese woodcut. There were only three people who had his number and given Kio was sitting right next to him, scribbling some notes, and Ritsu called him only on his birthday, the caller's ID was no surprise.
The blonde's heart stilled.
"If I were to die, you'll belong to Ritsuka."
...
Seimei lingered few long minutes before he picked up his mobile after the answer had come. Pressing the "OK" button suddenly grew to the importance of crossing the Rubicon. He shook his head at his own stupidity.
"Understood."
Seimei stared at the word. One word. Ten letters.
There was no turning back now.
...
He dialled Nisei's number.
"Dispose of this person. Inform me when you're finished."
He enclosed a picture of a teen resembling him a little.
...
A minute passed. A reply.
"Claro."
...
Yes, there was no turning back now.
...
A/N No matter what I do, Nisei always steals Soubi's show :( I guess he'd be delighted to do that, but I seriously tried to make both fighters' parts equally long and important in this story... I seem to be completely unable to write Soubi :(
Anyway, all comments are welcome :)