There is not a smile on his face; not a single curl of his lips, not even a frown. His face is just expressionless, although the glint in his eyes gives away that he is not happy. You're used to this kind of expression, he never really shows anything else in those handsome features of his; not since you've brought him here. Since then, there hasn't been a shine of happiness in those vivid brown eyes of his. Just despair— Sadness, mourn.
Yet, it's not your fault that he's like this. You know as much, even if you would have loved to be the one to cause him such a pain; such a regret and most of all— The emptiness you know he feels inside. You'd like to be the one to provoke that spark of hatred in his heart, the sinking feeling anyone else in his place would feel. You want him to yell at you, to loathe you and demand that you free him— Only to slump back in bed after you negate his importance in this world. To momentarily quit fighting, only to restart all over again the following day. You wish to be the one to break him beyond recovery.
But you can't. It's impossible. He's already far too broken— Even for you who always finds a way to break things further. Perhaps, that's what attracted you to him; even if you hate the way how he just gives himself up to you. How he doesn't fight back and just silently, powerlessly, watches as you caress his thighs— As you kiss his neck and your hands roam his body thoroughly. Not a single place is left unexplored, not even his most prized 'possession'. The one you know he would have perhaps saved for the likes of Akira. You just make him your own and he lets you; sitting there like a broken doll as you plunge into him.
It's like you're just fucking an empty shell. But you don't mind that either, you've had worse. And as long as he lets you enjoy yourself, you don't mind that he spends his days mourning; lamenting his loss— Your loss too, sometimes. Because the dog somehow managed to get hang of what you'd done to your own brother. How you bathed your sword with the blood of your own kin.
It's not like you care, or at least that's what you try to tell yourself. But when he does it, there's an annoying pang in your chest that you can never get behind on. Perhaps, it's because despite all those whose blood you've dirtied your hands with, you still miss that annoying kitten you had for a sibling. Or, maybe it's because he seems to have included you in his pathetic rituals. You doubt you'll ever know.
What you understand, however, is that Keisuke's weak. So very weak…With his big heart and heavy conscience, he couldn't get over killing a friend with his own bare hands; even if he hadn't been himself when the crime was committed. It was so unlike you, who had stabbed so many on the back; who had oh so easily cut the ties between life and death on those who had once called you a friend. Yes it's true, you've always been this cold blooded and perhaps, for this reason, you can't understand why his heart weights so much.
Where his feelings for Akira this strong? You find yourself wondering at times and it sort of makes your stomach turn; although you cannot fathom why you'd become so infatuated with this garbage of a dog you've picked off the streets for your own entertainment.
However, you'll manage to ignore his lamenting cries of Akira's name; his silent wails for a future where the two of them could have been happy together. You always manage to. Because, in the end, it's your arms that he crawls into in the middle of the night; when there is no Akira to comfort him and tell him it has all been a dream— There is no Akira to tell him he loves him and breath into his neck as the two sleep embraced.
There is only you, Shiki; the cruel being that somehow found himself enticed by this useless man's charms.