A/N: As usual... Character's aren't mine, YnM isn't mine, the story is. Reading one review, I wish to say: yes, some things WILL be 'occ.' But the pairing -itself- is ooc in it's very nature, so...:O Love it anyhow:D Please review! It just takes a few moments and makes an author oh-so-happy to update sooner. Thankyou!
Watari lay on his bed, staring at the giant pile of goodies before him.
Well, if one good thing had come from his little ordeal, it was that Tatsumi had taken pity on the somewhat hysterical scientist and reserved the budget lecture for later. However… every time he reached out to snag some chocolate, he got an image of… of that… bastard… in his head. Shivering slightly, he reached up and scrubbed at his cheek and neck… and entire head… and gave up.
Who knew that anything could ruin chocolate?
"I think…" he grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking his head into them. "The universe is angry with me."
There was no other explanation. At least, no other explanation that made sense or could be thought of without a very sudden, dizzy and somewhat disturbing feeling. But whether that was from the fact that Muraki nearly molested him in public or the inability to eat the chocolate without being reminded of said incident was unknown; it was difficult to tell which of those two things was worse.
…For about five minutes.
Snagging one of the chocolate bars, Watari glared at the item a bit before shredding the wrapping off and cramming half of it into his mouth at once, sucking at the sugary goodness with a moan of pleasure. To hell with it! He wasn't about to let Muraki take the enjoyment out of eating chocolate. The jerk could grope everyone until the cows came home, but he wasn't going to ruin…the…
Watari looked across the room, blinking at his reflection in the mirror. Reflecting over the last five seconds, and seeing the chocolate bar being devoured somewhat… obscenely…
He yanked the chocolate out of his mouth and very nearly burst into tears, throwing it across the room at his image with a furious cry. Standing up, he grabbed a bag and shoved all of the candy inside, his golden eyes ablaze with the terrible rage of a chocolate-eater scorned. Watari whipped on his coat and stalked out the door with the bag, heading outside and immediately began the task of hunting down one silver-haired sociopath.
No one, and no one, ruined the confectionary experience that was chocolate without a fight.
It was war.
;-;-;-;-;-;
"There you go, and you… and for you…"
Muraki stepped back and surveyed his domain, mostly eyeing the three fat felines as they dug into their dinner. All the doors and windows had been locked and sealed for the night, the incense on the altar in the back room had been lit and the fuzzy beasts were fed. There was only one duty left to attend…
Picking up the bottle of kitten formula, the man wandered over to the small box by the fireplace and peered inside. Sure enough, his charge peered back up at him and gave a feeble little mewl. For a moment, Muraki pondered how in the world he got stuck taking care of every stray that wandered past; a glance at the other three, who were all watching curiously, simply made him sigh and shake his head. He carefully scooped up the kitten, sinking down into the overstuffed chair nearby and setting the tiny thing in his lap.
"Ah well," he muttered, watching the feline latch onto the bottle. "At least the company is good."
While the little fluffball fed, Muraki picked up a somewhat worn file on the stand beside the chair, cracking it open and reading over the contents. Some of his contacts had been reporting energy ripples coming from portals long dormant, a couple had reported seeing strange creatures around the same areas, and perhaps the most disturbing of all, a letter from one contact's wife, informing that her husband had been found brutally mauled near a known power sink.
Curious things. Things that could very well be a threat to his future plans, especially if the portals were being tampered with. And yet, so little information. If only he had access to a larger database, different equipment…
Muraki raised his eyes to gaze into the fireplace, listening to the crackle of the flames and letting his thoughts wander. The old clock in another room chimed four times; it had almost been an hour since the incident with the Shinigami, and the whole thing was still mulling in the back of Muraki's mind. Oh, it has been amusing at the time and nothing more, but the more he thought over it…
Tsuzuki, that violet-eyed creature, had proven to be absolutely useless as anything other than sheer amusement. Now that he was under the eyes of both the shadow-wielder and the empath, he could only serve as entertainment when things got boring… or perhaps as a bargaining chip, if a situation ever called for one. But when it came to the idea of using a Shinigami as the proverbial one foot in the door of Meifu, Tsuzuki was not longer an option.
However…
"Tsuki, Taiyou," Muraki called softly to the air, setting the file down. "Come."
A small disturbance in the air was all that heralded the appearance of two winged dragons, both barely the size of the kitten he held. The first was a shining ebon, its eyes the darkest of ruby; it was followed by its twin, silver scaled and eyed. Swirling for a moment in the air, the two quickly landed on the arm of the chair, wiggling with eagerness. Muraki couldn't help but reach out with his free hand and scritch under their chins; they had been his loyal servants for over twenty years, and he had never really asked much from them other than what they already gave freely. But tonight… yes, tonight would be different.
"Taiyou," he said to the dark male. "I want you to guard tonight."
The dragon flared his wings and vanished, as usual. Tsuki, the female, gave Muraki a headtilt and chirp as if to ask what was going on. Muraki smiled, his right, false eye seeming to glow as he looked at the reptile. Folding her wings, the dragon's own eyes began to glow in return as she climbed up her human's arm and leaned against the side of his face. Slowly, a small trickle of gold and crimson color danced around in Muraki's mind, fleeting bits of curiosity and a question.
On his own, it would take days…even weeks…to sort through the entire shelving unit dedicated to the workings of Meifu and the Shinigami. With the proper assistance…
Tsuki…Show to me everything in the files regarding Yutaka Watari.
An explosion of green, and a confirmation. As you wish.
Muraki closed his eyes, letting the images and information come. And as he fell into a deep trance, his plan began to form.
;-;-;-;-;-;
The sun was beginning to set by the time everything was ready.
Watari looked at the house; it was quainter than one would have thought. Though it was surrounded by a low, white-washed brick wall and appeared to be larger than most of the houses around it, it was one level and plain colored, with most of the visible yard taken up by what looked to be a garden.
Going into ghost-mode, he made his way up and over the rather low wall, opting to avoid the gate in case if squeaked and deciding not to teleport in case there was some sort of 'alarm' set up around the property. Even with these precautions in mind, Watari couldn't seem to escape some sort of bodily harm-he landed in the middle of a rose bush.
"Gnn-"
He covered his mouth, scrambling out and hopping up and down in one place for a moment. No, no cussing out loud! If he was heard… Watari looked at the house, still covering his mouth as he thought about his options. At first he thought about trying to find an open window or door… maybe down the chimney… Of course! Or…
Glaring at the rose bush, Watari sighed. Maybe teleporting in would be worth any potential trouble after all.
It was better than standing out in the snow and cold all day. And besides, what could Muraki do, kill him…? So, within seconds, the blond stood within the front door of the house, greeted by a surprising crew: a fat, silver striped cat, flanked by a smaller brown and a fluffy grey one. The three animals simply stood there staring up at him, and if Watari hadn't known better, he'd swear they were grinning.
… Weird.
Swallowing his desire to reach out and snuggle the felines, he slipped his hand into his coat and slowly brought out his chosen weapon… a paintball gun. He looked about the dark house, briefly wondering if anyone was even home as he stepped past the cats and began stalking his prey. However, as usual, the 'stalking' turned in an 'exploring' and Watari found himself peering through the house more to see what was in it than who was in it. There was a luxurious study that's walls had been converted into shelves for-- oh, lords, how wonderful-- rows upon rows of books, a small room for a shrine…the smell of lavender that wafted through the entire place came from a stick of incense sitting and burning on the shrine's marble surface. Certainly nothing… suspicious. In fact, it looked almost… normal.
He'd expected at least a hastily etched out pentagram on the floor. Or a miniature dungeon. Or something. Poo.
The sound of a crackling fire drew Watari past the study and back towards the front of the house. A soft, golden glow came from down a hallway to the right; the light danced along an ornate rug, flicking and glittering off gold embroidered dragons and serpents, lotus flowers and faded kanji. The walls were strangely bare, with worn marks in spots as if pictures had been removed. One spot drew the Shinigami's eye; there was a gash…no, three… in the wall itself, simply painted over.
They… almost looked like claw marks. Watari hedged at the mouth of the hallways, staring at the gashes. Suddenly, a paintball gun didn't seem like that big of a deal. Tightening his hands around the handle, Watari set his mouth into a firm line and strode down the hallway. Creepies or not, he had been violated and his chocolate had been tainted. Vengeance would be had, one way or another.
Watari sneaked along the wall, exiting the hallway and finding himself in next to an open kitchen. Beyond it lay the fireplace and another room that seemed to have been converted into a library of sorts. And within that room…
Bingo.
Readying the paintball gun, the blond tiptoed into the living room, narrowing his amber eyes at Muraki, who appeared to be asleep. Hmph, he was about to get a very rude awakening. Watari raised the paintball gun, aiming it right at the man's forehead. However, just as he was about to pull the trigger, a small movement just below Muraki's chin made Watari pause. When he lowered the gun and peered closer, sure enough… There was a little black kitten nestled against Muraki's neck, sleeping just as soundly as its master.
Bastard! How dare he create such a cute, fluffy scene? He couldn't shoot at a kitten…
Watari pouted, lowering the gun and glaring vehemently at the silver-haired man. Well, fine, then! He would just stay here until the jerk woke up, and then… once the scene was no longer cute and fluffy… Muraki would look like a walking, talking Picasso painting.
Just you wait. I'll show-
And that is when something big, warm and wriggling dropped onto Watari's head.
"AHHHHHHHEEEEEEIIIIII!"
A loud, inhuman screeching noise filled the air, matching the screams of the Shinigami. Watari didn't even think to keep his shields up-he was busy running around in circles, screaming and trying to get whatever it was off his head.
"What the…"
Watari screamed even more at the voice. "GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OOOOO-"
The last thing Watari saw before everything went black was the heavy, mahogany door that he ran into at full speed.
;-;-;-;-;-;
"…Oww…"
Opening his eyes, Watari stared into the pitch blackness, unable to see a thing. Or move, as he soon found out when he tried to rub his eyes. Slowly, everything came back to him, and he realized he was kneeling on the ground, knees tucked under his body and arms tightly bound at shoulder-height. He must have been out for some time, as the limbs had become numb; trying to move only brought an alarming amount of pain shooting up his body. Even so, Watari tried to pull against the restraints, attempting to break free. Maybe if he teleported…
"I wouldn't try that if I were you."
Watari looked up and hissed, still unable to see. Muraki…
A faint glow filled the room as the other man struck a match, lighting a lamp and causing the room to glow in an almost soothing way. Almost, except for the fact that Watari could now see everything. The room was bare of just about anything, save for a table on which sat the lamp, a casual throw rug and a bed in the corner. Muraki was watching him, leaning against the table and holding… a dragon?
"It was quite foolish for you to come here," the man mused, tilting his head to one side. "Luckily for you, Taiyou here has some restraint when it comes to intruders…"
Watari looked at the reptile as it snorted a small puff of fire. "Wh…I…" he stammered, then stopped and just shut his eyes. Oh lords, he was going to die. The thought only increased in intensity as Muraki's footsteps drew closer.
"Why did you come here, anyhow…?"
"Refund," Watari muttered after a moment, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.
Muraki paused, blinking at the blond with a mix of amusement and wonder. "A refund..? For…?"
Opening his eyes and remembering the poor chocolate, Watari glared at Muraki and struggled against his bonds. "My chocolate, that's what! You had to go pull that stupid stunt, and now I can't even eat the damned things without… without… Well, Mister Wonderful, it's all your fault and Tatsumi is going to KILL me for how much I spent! So. REFUND."
The silver-haired man didn't know whether to laugh or to… laugh. The poor thing looked so serious and ruffled that it was difficult to not to chuckle. "I'm sorry that I had such an effect on you as to ruin your eating habits. Was revenge also part of your brilliant plan?" Muraki asked, motioning to the paintball gun propped up in the corner.
Watari stared at the gun for a moment. "You. Are an evil bastard."
"True enough, I suppose," he sighed, wandering closer at an almost lazy pace.
"When the others get here, they'll-"
"The others won't get here," Muraki interrupted. "Not in time to help you any. I have wards set up at regular intervals for the next three miles in every direction. Even if they do manage to figure out you're missing, and suspect that it is my doings, by the time they get here we will both be long gone and there will be so many spells covering our tracks that the very gods will have trouble untangling the mess."
Falling into a silent, smoldering frustration, Watari ignored the rising panic in his mind and turned his head to look at the bonds. Closing his eyes, he tried to teleport…
…And screeched.
The crackling of electricity filled the air as the magic within the bonds activated, sending a current through the trapped man. Muraki watched, clucking his tongue a bit as the blond hung his head; it was a perfect "I told you so" moment. Had he not told Watari to not try it, he would have felt bad for the poor thing. Alas, there was only so much sympathy he could spare in a day.
Muraki closed the distance between them once the electricity had died to a low hum, kneeling in front of the blond and brushing a lock of golden hair from his face. "Tsk, tsk. Curiosity is such a troublemaker, isn't it?"
"Sonnovabitch…" Watari whimpered, curling up as best as he could. "…Kill you for this…all your fault…should never have gone to…..damn you…"
"I would think that you'd be more worried about the present," Muraki said, gently slipped his hand behind Watari's neck and caressing the nape with long, slow strokes. "Why are you so upset over that, koneko?" he murmured, leaning in and ghosting his breath along the exposed skin. "Because you couldn't forget, ne? And because you couldn't forget, it led you… right back to me. Ironic."
Watari froze, most brain functions shutting down. Like breathing. And speaking. And…
A soft hand caressed under the Shinigami's chin, tilting it up. The kiss was sudden, and surprisingly gentle. A brushing of lips so feather-light that it could have been accidental… had it not been Muraki. Lamp or not, everything was getting dark again; Watari suddenly remembered to inhale. Muraki pulled back, his eyes holding a smirk as he watched his prey begin to shiver.
"Although your cowering is somewhat endearing, there's no need to work yourself up. I'm not going to kill you… Yet."
"Wh…what…" Watari swallowed roughly, his tongue sticking to the roof of his dry mouth. "… What do you want from me?"
Muraki stroked Watari's cheek, smiled at the way the other man shuddered under his touch. Oh, yes, this was going to be too much fun. "You, my dear, are going to help me hack into Meifu's computer system."
Watari's eyes flew open. "You have to be kidding me!" he exploded. "Why?! Even if I could get past the security, they'd… they'd kill me for sure. I'd be tossed out on my ass so fast that…"
"Then don't," Muraki shrugged. "But do know that failure to comply with my request may lead to one day wishing you had."
"…What is that supposed to mean?" Watari asked, feeling his stomach being to sink.
Standing up, Muraki turned away and walked towards the door. "Fifteen minutes," he called over his shoulder as he turned out the light and left Watari in the darkness. "Have your answer ready by then."
Silence.