ANI: Disclaimer. Same as always, I own nothing, including the characters who seem intent on driving each other crazy in a variety of different ways. Shame on them.

Super Special Thanks To: SinnersLikeUs, because she's very incredibly patient and awesome and deserves much cake and Gakkun love for dealing with all my strange little ideosyncrasies, including using that word. She's awesome, and she's also writing a story called "Superficial Dreaming and Intoxication," also for this pairing, based off of 'Iroha Uta.' Go check it out now.


Title: Firebird
Author: seinakyou
Pairings: GakuRin, others that have not yet been determined
Rating: T


Gakupo followed Teto through the oddly quiet hallways, but his mind was elsewhere. He was infuriated with Kaito for bringing him here, strangely grateful to Miku for her small kindnesses and incredibly confused by Teto's instant vitriol upon hearing of his purpose here. He let out a little groan upon thinking of that. He didn't want to deal with her right now and prayed she would just keep walking until she calmed down.

Unfortunately, this wasn't to be the case, as she stopped abruptly right in front of him so that he walked into her with a startled "Oomph!" and was knocked off balance.

She whirled upon him in an instant, and before he could even blink he was pressed up against a wall, a hand at his neck and sharp nails digging into his throat.

"Look," she hissed, "I get that you're new to this, so I'll be nice about this." Her fingers dug a little deeper into the skin at his neck, before she leaned in close to him. "Hurt her, in any way," she whispered, saccharinely sweet, "and I will make you bleed." Her face was flushed, and her eyes shone with intensity. A scowl marred her pretty face, and her hair was strewn around her shoulder, giving her the look of a fevered wildcat

Trying to ignore the mounting feeling of unease building in his stomach, Gakupo subtly slid his sword hand to his scabbard and gripped it, hoping that the vague hint towards his state of armament would convince her to draw back a little.

Luckily, it did.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. After a moment's pause, she released him and harrumphed. Silently, he brought a hand up to his throat and rubbed at the bruises that were surely forming. Her impassive eyes took in his bewildered look and the hand now at his neck, and then she turned and flounced away in a mess of red curls and a white nightgown.

He reached out to her a few seconds after she's gone, in a desperate plea for directions. He was, loath though he was to admit it, lost. His fingers twitched slightly before he schooled his face into a calmer expression. He screwed his eyes shut and exhaled loudly in exasperation and frustration, running a hand through his long hair and leaning back against the wall, trying to collect his rapidly swirling thoughts. He groaned and buried his head in his hands, trying to get rid of the unwanted nuisances as he sunk down the wall to rest on his haunches. He abruptly wished that life was more simple for a moment, and unbidden the same memory as before flashed behind his eyes.

He saw:

A tall tower looming over two figures, a pretty young girl handing him a flower, a sunset behind them, a girl asleep in his arms, hands linked, pulling, pushing, then sudden agony as…

He lurched up from sitting on his heels and slammed a hand against a wall, trying to steady himself.

No, he thought viciously, not here, not now, not ever, never again, never.

As he gasped for breath, fighting for control over himself, a clear peal of laughter burst out from within one of the doors on his left.

His head snapped instantly to the source of the noise, hand automatically going to rest on the hilt of his sword. When no further sound followed, he forced himself to relax, cursing himself for his sudden, violent, reaction. He then stood up and brushed off his already immaculate clothes, making a decision.

Well, he thought grimly, I guess it's now or never. With that thought, he made out for the source of the laughter, footsteps echoing resolutely in the hallways as he walked towards a door with a carved plaque resting on it, bearing the name Rin.

Hands caressing, moans coming out unrestrained, mouths meeting mouths, ravishing, searching, and as his hand bunches up her skirt, he mutters onto her tongue 'He's here.'

Gakupo stood in front of the door, mind still racing as he stared blankly at the paper and wood in front of him.

He rapped on the door frame, unsure of the etiquette of what was about to happen, but when he heard nothing after almost five minutes, he simply slid open the door with all his usual tact and took in his surroundings.

It was a beautiful room, he supposed, if a little stark. Though he couldn't see much, he surmised that there was little more than a four poster bed and a large mirror on one side of the room, and a large window on the other side that stood open, curtains rippling gently in the night breeze.

"Hello?" He ventured, on edge at the emptiness of the room, and he suddenly thought maybe he was in the wrong place.

But then, the same laughter echoed through the room, seemingly coming from every corner. He swore, years of battle instilling paranoia into him as he unsheathed his sword and held it in front of him. "Who's there?" he demanded, but his voice barely covered the laughter.

"Now, now," the voice chided, amusement colouring its tone. "No need to get violent, eh?"

He snarled and grit his teeth. "I command you, tell me who you are!"

There was a pause, and then the laughter echoed again. "Oh, so you command me?" There was an edge to the voice that hadn't been there before, and Gakupo was irked by the sulky dissent directed at him. The voice let out a sigh. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

From the shadows in the far corner of the room, a match blazed and he could see a pair of pale hands illuminated by them, and then a lantern flared up and the hands gained arms and a body and a face that stared at him with wide blue eyes. The figure was perched upon an immaculately polished stool, and was dressed in a colourful kimono that was loosely tied at the front.

Catching his eyes, the figure grinned. "Well, hello there." She cocked her head to the side, and began to twirl a piece of hair around her finger, all the while maintaining a devilish grin. "I'm Rin."

Brown hair spilled over the woman's shoulders as she peered at him through the corner of her eyes. Licking the top of his ear, she trailed her tongue down the rim of his ear, eliciting a shudder, before she nipped his earlobe and whispered 'It's about time. You were almost too late.'

At a first glance, he noted, she was very pretty. Though her blonde hair was unusually short, it framed her face and gave her a boyish youth that was only illuminated by her wide blue eyes and skinny limbs. He couldn't tell, since she was sitting down, but he thought she seemed rather short, which wasn't as much of a surprise as the general age he took her to be.

He stared at the lanky girl in front of him with horror for a few seconds before blushing madly. "I… er… you're…" She fixed him with an unusually piercing gaze.

"Young?" she inquired, one eyebrow quirked. She hopped of the stool, and her socks made the sound of impact a hushed whisper. "Well, obviously." She strolled towards him, stride perfectly even. "That's what you asked for, right?"

He blinked twice before what she said finally sunk in. "You mean…" he said awkwardly, voice cracking. He coughed, and then tried again. "You mean, people actually ask for you?"

It was obvious that she was trying to project a look of hurt, but he could see the poorly hidden mirth behind her gaze. "Aw, that was actually pretty mean." She pouted, then crossed over to the bed, and sat down on it with gusto. "You asked, didn't you?" she repeated, and then patted the place on the bed next to her.

He coloured slightly at the invitation, and actively tried to avoid her gaze. "Um, no thank you," he replied, shifting uncomfortably in his long robes.

She grumbled, and then flopped down onto the mattress, feet still dangling over the edge. "I swear," she began, annoyance creeping into her tone, "you're the most difficult customer I've ever had." She rolled over onto her stomach and rearranged her position so that her head rested innocently in her hands. "Please, just humour me?" she pleaded, giving him a very impressive rendition of the puppy dog eyes. "Look at me, even?"

Giving in, he flicked his eyes from where they had firmly rested on the ceiling to her, and he immediately regretted it. All her squirming around had loosened her robe at the front, so he could see a line of flesh straight from her throat to her navel. He swallowed with some difficulty, throat suddenly dry. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish a few times, then firmly moved his eyes back to the ceiling, face bright red.

He heard an exasperated snort. "What the hell. I don't care; I'm being paid by the hour." He heard shuffling again, then the striking of a match and suddenly the smell of opium filled the room. He looked sharply at her, all hesitance forgotten.

"Put that out," he ordered. She simply turned an amused glance towards him and breathed in the drug deeply, a smirk playing at her lips.

"Make me." She enunciated each word clearly, and with a dangerous twinkle in her eyes slowly and deliberately brought the pipe to her lips once again.

He crossed the distance between them in two long strides, grabbed the pipe out of her hands and placed it on a desk he had previously missed. She reached out for it, but he quickly grabbed her hand. When she reached with the other, he grabbed the other and transferred both into one of his hands. She glanced down at her captor's hands, before looking back up, an unreadable look in her eyes.

"Oh, ho," she laughed quietly, "so you're one of those guys." She looked up at him with pure blue eyes, before wrestling her hands out of his unusually weak grip. He looked down at her hands for a second, then back up to her eyes, when she lunged forward, slapping him across the face, hard.

As his head snapped to the side, the sound resounding in the room, he saw red.

He heard a low, guttural growl and distantly noticed that it had come from him. He launched towards her and grabbed both of her hands, this time taking them both and pinning them over her head against the wall. "Never," he hissed, "do that again."

She continued to stare at him, laughter dancing in her eyes.

Something inside of him roared at her cheek, so he leaned in, pressing her into the wall. "Didn't you hear me?" he said, voice deceptively quiet.

A grin played along her lips. "Oh, I've heard all I need to know."

He leaned into her touch, before placing his fingers at the base of her spine, mercifully bare. He slowly trailed his fingers up her spine, relishing as she grasped his shoulders and moaned into them. 'Hey,' he scolded, 'I did the best I could; he can be so stubborn.' He paused for thought, fingers still teasing her back. 'That's part of the reason why he'd make such a good leader.'

The rage in him cooled as quickly as it had come.

"What? What do you mean, all you need to know?" he asked, staring into her eyes, so much lower than his own. He was again struck by how young she was, and by association, how short.

"Well, you know…" she began vaguely, averting her eyes from his and struggling beneath his grasp, though the impertinent grin still remained.

He bit back an impatient scowl, but tightened his grip on her hands, still above her. He rested his other elbow against the wall right next to her head, and leaned in so that their faces almost touched. "What did you mean?" he asked again. It was barely a question this time.

She looked back up at him with wide eyes, the picture of innocence, and he faltered slightly. "I meant exactly what I said," she whispered, and he could feel her breath on his face. "I now know everything about you."

And with that, she bent her arms at the elbows and leaned in, smashing her lips against his into a kiss.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced, for a variety of reasons. First of all, he had only ever kissed two girls, and one of them had been when he was ten and the other hadn't loved him and had just wanted to see what it felt like. Those had been flat, emotionless affairs, but this could only be described as electric. He could suddenly feel very acutely everything around him, the scratchy fabric against his chest, the whisper of his hair as it flitted in the breeze, her soft hands, and then he realized exactly what was wrong with this picture and pushed her off, letting go of both her hands and recoiling to the other side of the room. He took two deep breaths, gulping for air as he held a hand to his chest. What was that? he thought, slightly panicked.

She looked over at him. He expected shock, but she was unnervingly calm. "Hmm," she hummed, "this is going to be very interesting."

He drew himself up at this assessment and met her gaze with stony indifference. "I don't expect so," he said rather stiffly, "for I don't think I shall ever be seeing you again. Good evening." With that, he strode out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Unsurprisingly, as he turned the corner, he heard a burst of clear, high laughter follow him out the door and into the dark night.

The woman looked over at the man as he pulled his clothes back on. She climbed out from under the covers and sidled up behind him, wrapping her arms around his still bare waist. 'You'll be back, won't you?' she asked in an uncharacteristic burst of insecurity.

'Of course.' He responded smoothly, leaning back into her grip. She felt her heart leap a little. 'After all, we still have work to do.' Her heart plunged into her stomach. With that, he gently pried her arms off of him and pressed a slow, smouldering kiss to her lips. 'And besides,' he continued warmly, 'I'd miss you.' He looked her in the eyes, and pressed a finger to his lips, eyes kind. 'Keep this our little secret, alright?' She nodded wordlessly; suddenly, hopelessly elated.

The man pulled on his shirt and his jacket and shot her a final glance as he gave her a final little wave and sauntered out of the room.

"I'll see you soon, Meiko."


ANII: -whines- Guys~ please review? I'm glad to get any feedback, good or bad, even if it's just one word. I used to never review, but now I do because then I make the author feel loved... hey, like, please? I'd love you forever, and happy author means updating author...

~Seinakyou~