He had been called, and so he had answered
He had been called, and so he had answered.
Soubi stared blankly down at the ground, just short of Seimei's feet. He had yet to be given leave to sit, or even permission to look upon Beloved, despite the urgency he'd though he'd sensed in Seimei's call. Once, Soubi would have fidgeted, or admired his Sacrifice under the cover of his lashes and glasses.
He was better trained now.
Fingers itched to light up a cigarette, or at least play with end of his striped scarf, but the treacherous fingers, wanting to move without Seimei's orders were restrained, interlocked with each other behind his back. The mood was heavy, somber and there was a look of resignation on Beloved's face. Soubi's foot had fallen asleep.
There was no doubt what was more important.
Finally, Seimei looked up. The grim look upon the Sacrifices face lessened slightly as he looked across the room to his Fighter, who was very pointedly not looking up. The smallest hint of a smile grew when he realized that Soubi had been so prompt in answering his call the Fighter had not taken the time to grab himself a coat. When Seimei sent that look, the look of pure possessiveness, across the room, Soubi could feel the power, and the urge to connect glances was overpowering. Both men waited a while, Soubi looking like a military recruit, except for the downcast eyes. Seimei finally placed his book in his lap, studying his Fighter.
"You may sit now, Soubi."
The voice was filled with hidden amusement, and Soubi relaxed slightly. He'd been worried that he'd disappointed his Beloved somehow, and that he was about to be punished. It was not the punishment he feared, but the fact that Seimei would be disappointed. That fear cut him to the very bone, but it had not happened, at least not tonight. Reassured, Soubi took the chance to look about the room. The room, Seimei's room, held a side of Seimei he was never fortunate enough to see. Once, he'd seen a picture of Seimei, and a boy he assumed to be his younger brother. The warm, inviting, peaceful look on his face was so different than the one Soubi was used to. The look Soubi was used to was cold, demanding, and held a touch of disgust. Disgust for his Fighter. Soubi tried not to think about that look. He sat, graceful, quick.
"You belong to me, Soubi."
It wasn't a question, but that feeling of belonging rose so quickly in him Soubi had to reply.
"Yes."
Mind, body, soul, it was all Seimei's to command. He more than belonged to Seimei, he was a part of Seimei, though he would never mention that. Seimei was too good to be connected to someone like him. Someone as dirty and disgusting and vile as him. He should ask to be punished for those thoughts, but he was to cowardly to admit them. Seimei might stop talking to him at all, and Soubi wasn't sure he was strong enough to deal with being cut off from his Sacrifice's world any more than he already was.
Was Seimei smiling?
Out of the corner of his eye, Soubi could have sworn that he saw the younger man smile.
"Soubi, look at me."
Snapping to attention, Soubi peered at his master, careful to keep the joy off his face. Seimei didn't like it when he showed emotion. None of his Masters did. Had. An expression passed briefly on Seimei's face, and Soubi tried to place it. Satisfaction? Acceptance? Seimei cleared his throat, and Soubi looked back down, realizing he'd overstayed his welcome, looking at Seimei. What a fool he'd been, to overstep his bounds, to almost draw forth Seimei's wrath. He waited, knowing there had to be a reason Seimei had summoned him, allowed him inside his house, in his presence.
Seimei started to speak, and Soubi's nonexistent ears perked up, reminding himself how lucky he was to have Beloved speaking to him, and only him.
"If I were ever to die..." Seimei's voice trailed off for a second, allowing Soubi to conceal his horror. Beloved dead? Soubi failing to protect the life of his Sacrifice? It was the most terrifying thing Seimei could have said. It would never happen. Soubi wouldn't -couldn't- allow it.
"You will then belong to Ritsuka, Soubi." The thrill of Seimei saying his name without the trace of hate or disgust almost drove away what Seimei was saying to him. Not for long, of course. Soubi was incapable of ignoring any of Seimei's words. Incapable of driving away all of the ramifications. Ritsuka was Seimei's younger brother. Belonging to him would be pure torment: a walking reminder of who Soubi had failed to protect, if he failed to protect Seimei. How calm Seimei was being over his possible death chilled the Fighter, but Soubi's voice did not hesitate in his response.
"Affirmative."
Calm, cold, respectful. Just as Sensei had taught him. It was only that training that kept him together as the words echoed in his mind.
"If I were ever to die..."