Disclaimer: I do not own PMK or SIP(M). I only own the plot and universe that this story takes place in. Because they came from my mind. So Neh.
Warning: This story will contain the following: Shonan-ai (BoyxBoy love), violence, cussing, and the occasional sarcastic yet witty humor. The main pairing is Tetsunosuke Suzu. There is only one side pairing, and it is Tatsunosuke Ryoma. If you have a problem with ANY of the foresaid things then please leave now. All the rest of you, read, review, and enjoy!
One year of waiting. He had spent one year being locked up being analyzed and prodded; of being treated like a curious subject or a mystery that could be cracked. Three of those months were spent caged in an empty room with only thoughts to keep him company. One year was wasted of him just bidding his time, the end result was inevitable. They wouldn't keep him forever. All he had to do was play the part of the good patient, just use the same damn trick he used last time. Fuckin' idiots.
The doctors and nurses that surrounded him, constantly whispered to each other. Each told their own horror story of when they had crossed paths with him. Some of them were true. He had once gotten so frustrated with his lack of progress he threw a sharpened knife at a nurses head. It missed, unfortunately. That woman was the chattiest of them all. However, most of the stories were blatant lies. Yet with each rumor spread his 'popularity' seemed to soar.
To him all their incessant chatter made his wait seem and infinity longer. He had to get out. He had to reap his revenge. He had to find him. He had to…he had to….
He spent one year of being held prisoner; one bloody year.
Then, there was freedom….
"Alright Mr. Kitamura, you're free to go." The nurse told him with a pleasant smile.
"Thank you," The young boy whispered softly as he took the papers off the desk. As he turned to leave a crazed grin slipped over his face. "thank you…"
Love Kills Thousands Book II:
Different View
Chapter I:
Stray Cat
In a rundown old shop in a town so small it hardly had a name stood a scuffed up, tan, silver haired teenager admiring the selection the store owner had. His clothes were torn and dusty and the soles of his shoes were falling off. He was also a bit scrawny from malnutrition; but his cold blue eyes were full of life, intention, and determination.
As he browsed the stores stock he kept and eye out for any hidden cameras. The shop was completely empty though and he couldn't spot one camera. He had to wonder what kind of idiot shop-keeper would leave his store unattended; especially with equipment like this. There were so many shapes and sizes, years and makes. He'd never seen this much variety in any of the other stores he'd been in.
Running his fingers over the polished metal he grinned slyly. Cold, sleek, brutal; compacted into this tiny form was everything he needed to live out his dreams. He reveled in the thought. He could do whatever he wanted with one of these babies and not one damned person could stop him. He could have everything he ever wanted.
Well, almost everything.
"Hey kid, you have a permit to handle that?" The up-beat voice of a stranger broke through the teenager's current train of thought.
The seventeen year old whipped his head up to look at the man who had called out to him. The guy was tall and somewhat broad, with dark skin much like his own. His hair was long and dark curled into dreadlocks and pulled back into a messy ponytail, he even had a small beard going. The man topped it all off with a pale cowboy hat that rested on the top of his head with two white strings that tied into a knot and hung below his chin. The guy would be a perfect shoe-in for a carnival side freak-show.
"A…permit?" the teen asked curiously looking back down at the small gun on the counter that he was touching.
"Yeah a permit." The man behind the counter chuckled tipping his hat in a friendly manner. "Gotta' have one if ya' want ta' buy from me."
The boy remained silent for a moment just staring at the gun. Slowly he wrapped his fingers around the barrel casting a slow glance at the crazy shop-keeper. He could out run him for sure, so why was he still so hesitant? "Any reason I couldn't just…take it?" he asked.
The strange man scratched his head under his hat. "You could I suppose, I mean you've got long enough legs out run a gazelle," He laughed, "but there wouldn't be much of a point. That baby's full of lead, but not in bullets. Barrels got the stuff melted inta' it."
Quirking an eyebrow the teen took curious peek down the barrel of the gun and found that man wasn't lying. It was completely sealed off. It would forever to chip the stuff out with just sticks and stones; and it wasn't as if he had much else.
The strange cowboy chuckled as he walked around the backside of the counter standing across form the teenager. "You must be some kind of rookie to actually look down the barrel of a gun. Don't you realize how dangerous that is? Even if a trustworthy guy like me told ya it's a dud." He took the pistol from the scrawny teen's hand and looked it over. "A Colt M1908 eh? Nice pick I suppose; I'm more of a Smith and Wesson kinda' man myself." Then he shrugged and placed the gun back on it's display rack.
"So, what's your reason for being here kid?" The cowboy asked curiously looking his customer over. "Get into a fight of some sort?"
His eyes glazed over as he thought about his past. What right did this man have to ask him something like that? It wasn't his problem. It had nothing to do with him.
"Just give me the gun, you idiotic bastard." He thought bitterly. All he could do was stare down at that pistol. This guy had no idea how much he needed that gun.
"Look kid I'm only askin' cuz I don't sell to those who don't have a just cause." The man told him somberly. "Ts for my conscious ya know?"
"For your conscious?" the boy scoffed in disbelief. This guy just got dumber and dumber by the minute.
"And if they lie to you?" He sneered. "What then?"
The cowboy just shrugged. "Then I don't sell to them. I can tell when people lie." He smiled tapping his forehead. "Trust me, I know."
Still the boy refused to answer. When a long enough time had passed of them just standing there the older man sighed. "Hey that's fine if ya don't want to tell me kid." He started and began to turn to walk away. "I just hope ya know it's another sixty or so miles to the next town, and the stuff they got there is crap."
The teenager went over the options in his head, and after a while conceded. It would be better to get this idiot to sell him something good, than have to steal some piece of junk from someone else.
"I want to get back what's mine." He stated at last.
Scratching the side of his face the older man let out a low whistle. "Ya' know, a stolen stereo or a cheatin' girlfriend ain't worth shootin' somebody over." He told the kid with a disapproving frown. "Best you just forget about it and move on."
"Boyfriend." The younger man said at once.
"S'cuse me?"
"He was my boyfriend." The teen stated evenly, "and I admit I screwed up, but he didn't leave me. We were …forced apart."
The cowboy sighed resting his temple on the tip of his fingers. "Boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever kid. Shootin' someone isn't the answer to solving a problem like yours." The cowboy tried to explain.
"I'm not going to use the gun to kill him, or who took him away. It's just…" The boy paused his eyes downcast as if thinking about how to explain what happened. "His…guardian, doesn't believe I can protect him and there were others who thought I'd give him more trouble than good. So his guardian took him away."
The young teenager looked the shop-keeper straight in the eye. "I have to prove I can protect him."
Leaning back against the frame of one of the wooden gun racks behind the counter the older man sighed. He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes and stood there silent for a while mulling over what the kid had said.
"Where are your parents in all of this?" he finally asked.
"They have no part in it." The tan youth replied coldly.
"Just where are you from? Are you a city kid?"
"I guess you could say that." The teen replied.
"You're a long way from home kid." The cowboy told him with a sigh. Standing up straight he flicked his hat back into its rightful position. "So, you got a name?"
"Kitamura." The teen replied. "Kitamura Suzu."
"And my name's Sakamoto Ryoma." He introduced himself with a grin. Then he lifted the board that blocked off the back of the counter from the store and stepped aside to let him through. "Come on back, I'll teach you everything you'll need to know to get your boyfriend back."
Advertisement: Join the only C2 dedicated to Peace Maker's most explosive pairing, Silver Nitrate! Where all your favorite Tetsuzu stories can be found.
Mahono: Well. This only took me forever and a day to write. It's almost been a year since I wrote Love Kills Thousands. Personally, I think it's a good thing I waited so long. The original story I had planned for this book is nothing like this one. It is quiet horrible really. Though I took forever in writing this there was one fan who consistently prodded me to get this project going and for that I thank her. I also want to apologize to her for missing my promised due date which was June 23. Honestly without her I probably would not have gone through and written this story, so everyone who enjoyed this give your thanks to Tenkage Onna! Oh, and p.s. don't forget to review!
