To Make You Happy

By Cat Alex

Chapter One: A Look at Two Lovers

She only wanted to please him. And it hurt her when he told her that she would be unable to please him completely, for – "The type of enjoyment I like to receive destroys all save me."

She hated and loved him for it. She had hated him then, but now with the gift of hindsight, it had been an act of love for her. He didn't want to hurt her, despite the face he knew that she had thought he was saying it to upset her. He really had her interests at heart. It was a strange relationship, a man who gained pleasure through blood, pain and, ultimately, murder. He loved challenges since his line of work rarely gave him much competition from which he could have some of his brand of 'fun'. But she had extracted the information from him, carefully, lovingly, so she could find a way to please him. He was happy with her, he - his words failed him there, but she knew he found it disturbing to say that he loved her – and he was glad to give her pleasure.

But she discovered his love of pain and death and, though disturbed, she could not erase her love for him and so made the decision to try and please him. It began on a calm, but dreary night that gave their apartment a comfortable, homey feeling to it that relaxed her greatly for what she was about to allow. She was aware of the unusual powers he possessed and wondered whether he would use them tonight while with her. Control. She prayed his love for control mixed with his love for her would restrain him from going too far. If not… then she prayed instead that he would get her to a medical facility before it was too late.

A storm had begun too, but it was pathetic and only added to the dreary gloom the windows had to offer her. The energy from the storm set her on edge. As soon as he returned to her, he knew something wasn't quite right. The place was completely silent as he hung up his coat and placed his hat on its stand. He was used to her being the truly cheery one of their coupling, but there was no cheerful humming, nothing. His eyes tracked her short strip of pacing past the large window, her grey eyes fixed on the pattern of rain on the glass. Silently he approached her. She halted to peer into the gloom, perhaps to see where the mild flash of lightning had struck, and stiffened when his arms slid around her waist, his gloved fingers lightly digging into her flesh; not painfully – it was his way of assuring her and she was quite accustomed to it.

"Hello, my dear. Something wrong?" he whispered, his lips pressing to her neck briefly, his teeth grazing her neck lightly. He always teased pain sensations – it was his affection. She leaned her head back to rest on a broad shoulder and sighed.

"Hello, Kuroudo. We need to talk." She kept her words gentle, but firm. He straightened and found a hand, guiding her to the black sofa. They sat, his navy eyes watching her with amused curiosity, while she stared at her fidgeting hands.

"Well, what do you wish to tell me?" he politely asked and she rolled her eyes at him, frowning slightly, her face taut with mild annoyance.

"Do you have to sound so… calm and dispassionate?" she said, her eyes narrowing as she waited for a response. He softly sighed and removed his gloves, placing them neatly on the glass coffee table. Something had to be wrong. She should be used to his affected tone of voice.

"I do."

"Well… stop it," she lamely replied, her eyes crinkling a touch with amusement. He smiled, glad she was cheering up, but still interested about what she was going to talk about. Something serious, it was clear.

"Kuroudo… you know I love you and want to make you happy, right?" she asked, her pretty eyes now locked with his. He was at a loss for words, so he merely nodded. Concern was filtering through his mind now she was on this subject. They had brushed by it so many times, each time him determined to keep her away from the dark side that craved pleasure. He desired the pleasure she could give him, but dared not take it. And with good reason; she would not survive. He was a serial killer and he knew he craved more every time, despite his strict control. And once they were down the path she was so willing to lead him, there was likely no going back. He hated the fact that he was pulled in two directions – he wanted her to let him, but at the same time wanted to recoil. She moved close to him, a hand of hers entwining with one of his.

"I want us to try making you happy. I… thought we could try cutting me. If – if it makes you happy," her voice faltered, fear tampering with it, and he closed his eyes. It was as he feared.

"I cannot allow you to do this. Reika, you do not understand. Once it is done, there is no going back and I will lose control. And you know how I feel about that," he murmured, his head inclining toward her. He loved the woman before him so much, he could never properly express his feelings, despite his articulate nature. He felt that it being articulated could never do his feelings justice, so he remained silent on the matter. He loved that she wanted to please him, even if it meant her pain… perhaps even her death, if they weren't careful. What she wanted to give him tore at him; he wanted to receive it, but push it far away. It could only be resisted so long.

"I want to. Just try some things, like making love with some cutting. Pleasure for both, right?" She pressed a few loving kisses to his neck, savouring his taste - an unusual sweet metal flavour. His eyes slid closed, happy to have her close company. A funny thought of marriage occurred to him, but drifted away. He could never marry. She could never stay with him like that, even if that was exactly what they were doing, just without the certificate. He didn't know what she felt on the matter. What would marriage do to them both, he wondered, but the answer never materialised. He became caught up in her advances, her kisses travelling up his neck to find his lips. He returned them with a feverish desire, the thought of his knives sliding across her skin tantalisingly. He could imagine the cold metal upon her skin, her body trembling and shying from the cold and sharpness. Then his delight as they seductively cut, her blood slowly staining the sheets and leaving a pattern on his body. He pulled back, unable to allow those thoughts to continue. He couldn't stand the thought of her blood on him, her pure and beautiful nature destroyed by him. It would be his fault – her love for him driving her to attempt to please him and ultimately lead to her death. For once one cut was made, so many more would have to follow, until there was nothing left of her but bloody, tattered flesh.

"Kuroudo…" she breathed, holding him close. He didn't respond, his mind still violently turning over his repulsive desires. He knew he must not, but his body strived to make him pull her against his sinewy body and begin what she wanted them to do. His eyes met hers, and she softly gasped at how they were filled with a pleading no that slowly turned to cold resolve. Her mouth automatically bit on her lip and he watched her turn away from him, her head down.

"Reika, you must understand that this boundary that was set must not be broken. To do so would spell your death. And though I have many deaths to my name, I do not want yours to be one of them," his speech was low, explanatory and insistent, but she would not look at him.

"Reika… you are the death that will be the death of me."

Her soft grey eyes filled with ashamed tears and he heard the telling shaky intake of breath that caught into a sob. He was convinced she didn't understand while she was certain she knew and this conflicted so terribly. It strained his usually cold and unfeeling heart to hear her sound so… broken. His arms wound around her like an ensnaring spider and she gave in, turning and resting her head in the crook of his neck while she cried. Tears were unusual for her, but the tension and strain the two had been under this past week or so had reached breaking point for Reika. For him, the tension was swiftly buried and resonated in his knives, his killings becoming a release of anxiety. He briefly imagined what it would be like to mix her tears with his blood and whether it would produce the most pathetic or powerful weapons in his arsenal. The thought soon passed as Reika had stopped crying, but was resting comfortably in his arms. How had they become this way? How had they gone from two people, to something that couldn't be separated without some damage to both? He never liked to think that he would find it hard to move on from Reika if anything was to happen. As he had said, if she were to die, he believed that he would have to let himself go as well. But it was not the time to think on such things, and so he ran his hands along her back to comfort her. He felt her soft breathing and knew she was asleep. A slight smile curved his lips and he gathered her into his arms and took her to their bed. Few people knew anything about him, and those who thought they did were so far from truth it threatened to make him mirthlessly chuckle.

Laying her on the bed, he pulled back the covers from the other side and moved her into bed, covering her up. He watched her for a moment, knowing something was wrong and then realised she wasn't in her nightclothes. He frowned, unaccustomed to going through the bedroom drawers. She did so much and he gave her his love; it was simply the way they loved each other. She could be so normal, when he was anything but. Eventually he produced a negligee and that shade of a smile was back on his lips. It was short and beautifully silky, in a blue that matched her eyes exactly. He knew he could not be detected when he didn't want to be and so employed the skill as he deftly undressed her. He couldn't help but pause to gaze at her lovingly before putting the negligee on, her gentle grace present even in sleep.

Satisfied, he pulled the covers back over her and undressed for bed. He didn't care about nudity, he wasn't uncomfortable or insecure about his body, and he was the same toward others. He got into bed and rested, not needing her close to him to feel wanted. She needed her rest and he was sure she would only be worse off with him holding her. Sleep was a strange thing for Akabane; something that he felt made him weaker, but strengthened. To regain strength, you needed to put yourself in a weak position. It was a concept he did not like. His eyes drifted shut and he allowed himself to sleep, if only for a little while.


When Reika awoke, she didn't at first remember what had happened. She was content to lie and go back to sleep, but when she rolled over to see Akabane asleep her mind jolted with a flash of recollection. She didn't say anything, but looked at his stiff figure, unable to relax in sleep. His long black hair fanned out around his shoulders, his scarred torso so taut while his face was peaceful.

She thought she had failed him, but his persistence in refusing her belied something darker he was concealing. Reika didn't know completely how dark he could be, but his desire to stop what she wanted for him suggested he was hiding a grotesque part of himself that he never wanted her to see. She wanted to see all of him, but was afraid to do so. Past memories surfaced for a few stark moments before she pushed them away. He confused her so much, sometimes. It was a joy, however, to see him at peace. When he slept like this, which was rare, he was so relaxed.

Reika sat up, ever so gently because she knew Akabane was a light sleeper, and watched him for a while longer. She could never resist stroking his hair when he was like this; when he was awake she always felt a little silly as he motionlessly allowed her to stroke his hair while watching her curiously. Sometimes she wondered if they knew each other as well as they thought they did. She decided that they knew more about each other than any other person they had contact with and that was something to treasure. Reika would never say so, but she did want to marry him. She was raised in a family that didn't take kindly to 'living in sin' as they dubbed it, but the life she ended up leading didn't fit with their values. Her family's hair would probably curl if they knew about Akabane.

Quietly, she climbed out of bed and got washed and dressed. It was early morning from what she guessed as she showered. Why couldn't they just get married? They were living like a married couple, more or less, so was the step really that difficult?

"Reika… may I join you?" Reika jumped at the voice beside her ear, a small yelp escaping her lips. She heard him chuckle and knew that smile of his was on his face. She knew she should have been used to how he was undetectable when he wanted to be. He loved to make her jump, and knew the right time and place without fail. His cool hands touched her waist and she jumped at his touch, turning to face him.

"I suppose, since you're here," she replied, looping her arms around his neck. He looked at her, his eyes showing a sadness, perhaps regret – she wasn't sure. Whatever it was, she wanted to make it leave him. Lately, his more cheerful demeanour had diminished and she hoped time would resolve it.

"Are you alright, Kuroudo?" she asked over the roar of the shower that was soaking them. Akabane merely allowed his trace of a smile show, his head bowing in the manner she knew was what he did when he pulled his customary broad brimmed hat down lower on his head. She glanced at his pale hand as if expecting it to rise up to pull on an imaginary brim, but it remained on her waist, a thumb rubbing her side absently.

"I am fine. I want to make up for last night." His grip on her tightened, not painfully, and his lips captured hers. Her eyes slid shut, savouring it all; his touch, their mingling lips and tongues, the way her back now rested against the freezing cold tiles – all of it. She liked his spontaneous nature, so unlike herself. He always had that dangerous edge she couldn't resist. Physical intimacy was always a joy for her with him; she had no worries, he wasn't concerned about her body so neither was she – not that she had anything to worry about, but she still worried – she just felt it all. And what she felt, she liked a lot.

Akabane could be a man of few words, and situations like these… words either couldn't be said or weren't required. He felt it was the latter, this time. He liked to please her, to make her happy. Although he enjoyed this, it never sated him in the same way killing did. Their closeness pleased him, her soft gasps and the water soaking them. It was an interesting experience. She was in his arms now, straining against him for pleasure.

"… I wish you would use me to bring you joy…" she said between breaths and his eyes widened as the problem they discussed last night came back to haunt him. His heart beat even faster as his mind became preoccupied and panicked at the thought of cutting her once more. And now with them so intimate, it would be so easy… the blood would run down the drain and no-one would know…

The shock forced him to stop and pull away, putting her back on the ground. Their breaths were ragged and now Reika stared worriedly at him as he went to leave. He halted the urge to produce knives and threaten when she grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to face her.

"Don't do that! Speak to me! I'm sorry for what I said, but is it so bad!" she shouted, her voice bouncing off the shower walls, making her voice even louder. Akabane held her eyes, cold and unfeeling on the outside, but a roiling mass of desire, anger and fear. Reika knew he was angry in some way, because he hated to air his feelings and fell deathly silent, content to quietly grunt or merely glare.

"… Stop asking me to cut you. You are begging for me to kill you. Do you want me to kill you?" His last sentence was more of a growl and her grey eyes widened as he stepped closer to her, producing a fistful of knives from under his flesh. She had seen him do it before, but with his more menacing behaviour and nakedness she was put on alert. The knives drew near and she squeezed her eyes shut. Why did she want him to be happy so badly?

The knives lightly caressed her skin and she shivered. It was just as he thought she would react. The anger he felt surged and fell away in an instant, his senses regained. The knives immediately disappeared back into his flesh and his pale hands rested on Reika's shoulders. What had he been thinking getting that close to what she wanted for him?

"Reika, I am truly sorry. Do you see now? I am… different in that situation. I do not want to place you in that situation, for you would die." He kept his words short, still peering at her in hope of being reconciled. Reika did not move at first, but slowly her hand reached out and turned the shower off. Akabane closed his eyes, knowing she was lost to him.

His hands fell from her shoulders and she slipped past him, away from his sight. He exited the shower and watched her pull on a cream dressing gown too big for her – one of his, he guessed, though he wasn't in the habit of wearing them – then leave.

For once in his life, he had no idea what to do. She had been badly shaken, he was certain of that, but didn't know what to do about it. Should he try to comfort her, or tell her it wasn't her fault, that she didn't know? Was this one moment in their lives going to ruin their relationship? What would he do without her? He was thinking too much, but he couldn't stop the tumbling thoughts in his head. He was used to being cool and collected, but with her it tended to be thrown off. He wasn't sure whether he liked this or not, but… he loved her. Why did he love her, and what could he do to patch it all up again?


She was a fool. A stupid, girlish fool. He had told her, hadn't he? And she hadn't listened to him, thinking he just didn't want to harm her. She knew it had the potential of going wrong, but she never thought things through properly. She had never taken into account what it would feel like to have those knives pressed against her when she was so vulnerable, or the change in Akabane's demeanour. He lived in two worlds, each with their own pleasures and to try and combine them was folly. She knew this now. And she was scared how he had been, a type of anger she had never seen from him before. He was trying to scare her off from it, but the demonstration was more than enough to terrify her for a long time. Those knives were so close…

It wasn't as if she didn't trust him – she did, explicitly – but he was a different person in that shower with the blades in his hand. His eyes had watched her more like prey than his lover and it really had shaken her badly to see him like that. She didn't know what to do, or how he'd react right then. It staggered her to be unsure about Akabane.

Reika sighed, briefly glancing at her gently shaking hands, and then left the bedroom to sit in the living room. As she went to sit down, a hand wrapped around her mouth and her eyes went wide.

"Help!" she tried to scream, but it was muffled. It couldn't be Akabane – she had left him in the shower, and the muzzle of a gun digging in her ribs wasn't his style. Reika was terrified – it was only natural – but a part of her felt okay, that she knew Akabane would save her. The thoughts tumbled through her head, sluicing her mind with chilling memories of days long gone by. The memories of meeting the man who would eventually become her lover.

'Kuroudo…'


AN: Hello! This is my first GB story. I'm big on Dr Jackal, I'm afraid. I want to look at his character, so this came along. I just wanna see what people think. Hope you enjoyed! Cat Alex out for the count.