Blood+ (Ouran Style)
The demon tore up the side of a metal dumpster with one clawed hand, scrounging for rotting food.
Several floors up, emotionless gray eyes watched his progress.
There was the slightest sound on the rooftop behind the watcher; in a moment a petite, dark-haired female stepped up beside him.
"Another one?" she asked rhetorically. "Has he infected anyone else?"
The owner of the gray eyes shook his head, and reached for the sword hanging on his back. It was longer than a standard katana, with unique grooves cut periodically along its length. His slender build concealed the sword until it was needed.
Without taking her deep red eyes off the demon below, the female held out her hand expectantly.
The smallest curve upturned the man's lips; then he set the sword hilt firmly in her palm.
With unconscious grace she held the sword in front of herself and ran her left hand along the top edge, and watched with clinical detachment as her blood flowed into the hollows. When the opposite edge of her blade dripped with blood, her eyes flicked back down to the demon.
"Let's go," she murmured, and he was half a beat behind her jump, letting part of himself loose at the first moment of free fall.
The wind cut through their clothes for the few seconds it took to reach the ground, and then they were breaking through it, creating their own breeze as they raced to where the demon crouched.
The blood-soaked blade cut through the demon's unsuspecting back; an anguished howl broke the quiet night.
Kyouya leapt out of the way of swiping claws. Teeth followed it, and he smashed a fist no longer human into its head.
The thing grunted, caught off-balanced, and Haruhi jabbed her blade into its neck, flipping herself up into the air to be able to throw all her weight into the angled sword.
The demon's knees hit the concrete with a dull crunch, the rest of its body quickly following.
Haruhi jerked her blade free, splattering herself with blood in the process. She didn't seem to notice, too focused on whether the demon was really nullified.
Kyouya sighed silently at seeing her pale skin flecked with blood (and other, unmentionable substances).
Her father already distrusted Kyouya's involvement in her life; he would have to make sure she was cleaned up before taking her home.
A shout from the other side of the building alerted Kyouya to incoming company.
Were it not for the long years of waiting he'd already endured, Kyouya would have dispensed with her clinging human companions on day one.
Another shout, this time clearly the girl's adopted name, echoed across the grounds, and then the boy was racing around the corner, face desperate - then changing to horror at seeing Haruhi standing over the bulky corpse.
"Haru-chan!"
The girl jerked at hearing his voice, and her eyes flickered from red to brown, confusion bleeding in with the change in color.
Kyouya moved in a moment later to sweep her up as she fainted, and he met the boy's glare for only a moment before leaping up to the rooftop again, girl and sword clutched in his arms.
He made a quick stop by the river to wash her face and arms. With practice he had learned to subdue the bit of virus he carried in his blood, and his arm slowly returned to normal size.
He pulled a thin pair of spectacles from his coat pocket and put them on, combing his hair into tidied order.
Her face was so peaceful like this. Before he could over think the impulse, he drew his human hand through her hair, the short dark locks like silk against his sensitive fingers.
Alone, with her unaware, he could indulge in a moment of desperate longing.
But only for a moment.
The neighbor boy couldn't be allowed to reach home before she did.
So he meticulously stored away his feelings and gathered her up again, taking off for the small home she shared with her adoptive family.
He was shortly depositing her into her father's angry arms.
The blond had engaged in enough one-sided arguments with Kyouya to know an argument now would be pointless.
Kyouya left; Haruhi wouldn't remember what had happened the night before when she woke up.
She had yet to fully awaken and remember their shared past.
He glimpsed the two agents pulling up outside the house as he left; as long as they didn't try to imprison Haruhi again, he'd steer clear of them.
He reached his resting place just as the sun came up. It rose while he watched, as he had done countless times while waiting, hoping that a sunrise would soon come when she would be watching the sight with him.
A/N: I don't own Ouran or Blood+. All rights belong to Bisco Hattori and Asuka Katsura. And Haruhi's adopted father was Tamaki, not Ranka.