Title: Cradle of Blood – chapter 4 – An ode for cruelty.
Pairings: Zero x Kaname. Some Kaname x Zero also, and a few secondary pairings.

Warnings: AU. Sex slavery, prostitution, mature themes and lemons from time to time.
Do not read if you're underage or dislike graphic yaoi and dark themes.
Spoilers for various elements of the VK manga.

This is AU, so Zero grew up as a hunter in the notorious Kiryuu clan, was never bitten and didn't go through the trauma of being turned into a vampire.

I'll be posting the review replies in my forum, in the "Cradle of Blood review replies" topic. ^^/
You can find it and see when new replies have been added to it by clicking on my profile.
(I'll add replies to the previous chapters with each new chapter as well.)

Erm, this is a bit of hard chapter for Kaname. Not so much in what happens in the chapter itself as much as what he remembers.
You might want to skip some bits of it if non-con or abuse themes squicks you… although considering you're reading this story I think you probably don't mind that as much. XD *lol*.
Now you can start to see what he was thinking of back in chapter 2, when I mentioned "deeper reasons why he wanted to avoid getting into too much trouble. Reasons as dark and old as the war itself, and of which to this day he wasn't free yet. Maybe nothing could ever free him from it, after all."

But it's a Hurt/Comfort fic, there should eventually be comfort, not just hurt, so... yeah. Hang in there? XD; *lol*

And, uhm, please don't hate Zero for his musings? XD;
He was raised in the hunters' society after all. It's already amazing he didn't turn out like the others. But he'll be in for a surprise in the next chapter. ;)


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The pureblood wasn't the only one unsettled by that night, although not in the same way.

Zero was glad enough that his colleagues at the headquarters had finally fully accepted him as one of them and stopped calling him 'cherry boy', now that the stupid tradition was officially over –since they didn't know that he didn't do anything to Kaname— but he was definitely having trouble forgetting the pureblood.

Scratch that, it was more than just having trouble forgetting, it was more like having trouble not letting his thoughts stray to him throughout the whole day, even.

In his wounded beauty, Kaname was so vividly different from all the vampire stereotypes that Zero had been expecting, that the hunter didn't know what to make of it.

The vampires Zero had encountered in the hunt were almost always level E's, wandering survivors of the war lost in the wilderness, rarely ever approaching the outskirts of the populated areas.
And he'd never gone to the 'houses' before, so he had assumed that the pleasure slaves would be very much the same beasts that all hunters said that vampires were, regardless of what former rank they might have had before the end of the war. At best, he had expected a sleazy creature cunningly fake and civilized only in appearances, the veneer of civilization covering an obvious beast.
Kaname couldn't possibly be farther from such a thing.

The pureblood was so… human.

Zero was pretty sure that if the situation had been different –if they were older and had met during the war, for example—and Kaname was a pureblood in full possession of his power and position-- things would probably have gone very differently.
The image Zero had of vampires in general and purebloods in particular –arrogant, manipulative, full of themselves-- was such that he had no doubts that they'd have inevitably clashed.

But whether because this pureblood was truly different or because the situation he was forced to live in made him so utterly helpless, Kaname was so completely far away from those stereotypes that Zero found himself drawn to him and unsure of his own beliefs.

And there was a more… pressing matter at hand too, which took a most certain precedence over the more philosophical aspects of the hunter's current thoughts.
To be more exact, said matter was not only pressing but hardening rather fast, at the mere memory of the pureblood's luscious body and his smooth, silky skin, pale and inviting to the touch.

Zero of course didn't regret not having brutalized the pureblood like apparently so many --if not all-- the other customers of the 'house' did, but he was feeling slightly stupid for the whole ordeal, especially for the part where he chivalrously restrained his urges to take him in the bathtub, and merely, well… bathed.

Talk about a waste.

To Zero's surprise, the final price had turned out to be considerably less expensive than he had feared, which was unexpected considering it was a pureblood and Zero had expected the fare to be much higher, but still, he was feeling stupid for having wasted the chance, rather than the money.

After all, if the pureblood was so willing to pleasure him, why did he have such foolish scruples of touching him? That was what the vampire was there for, that was what everybody did to him every single night anyway, so it should be fine… right?

The memory of the pale perfection of the pureblood's body mingled in the hunter's mind with the memory of his terribly sad eyes, and Zero wasn't sure if he wanted to see him again to fix the mistake of not having slept with him that night, or if he wanted to see him because he was terribly intrigued by that sadness and by how different he was.

In the end, both urges combined and the hunter made his way to the blood district once again that evening, as soon as his work was over for the day and he'd finished reporting to the Hunter Association headquarters.

The voice of reason and that of his conscience were leading a quiet battle inside Zero's mind. After all, it wasn't as if his decision to go and sleep with that pureblood after all was a bad thing… it didn't necessarily make him like all the other people abusing the vampires. He didn't mean to hurt him and brutalize him, for example. That alone should make a huge difference.

That pureblood, much like all other vampires in this day and age, was left alive for no reason other than serving the hunters, to be a pleasure object… so it should be fine, right?
And either way, as long as Zero wasn't being rough or unnecessarily cruel, it shouldn't be immoral to sleep with him. Right…? Everybody else was doing it anyway! Why should he be the only one with stupid scruples stopping him from enjoying that which was so freely given away anyway?!

Of course, he was far from knowing that what Kaname had given him was a rare gift, absolutely not something he gave freely to anyone who came by. Kaname had opened up to Zero in a way very different from the way he was normally forced to pleasure the house's customers.
A part of the hunter might have realized that, on some deep unconscious level, but his hormones were speaking too loudly at the moment for him to give ears to that.

The voice of reason had countless arguments to justify the idea, regardless of the indignation in the voice of Zero's conscience… but the latter's voice was getting more and more difficult to listen to, now that the images playing in the hunter's mind were having quite an effect on his young body's appetites, and making any idea of resisting the urge to go to the 'house' completely impossible.

But when Zero got there, Kaname wasn't in the display window, despite the fact that the hunter had arrived early, even earlier than the previous time he came over, which had already been long before the peak hours –his chaperone who tagged along the previous time had years of experience with 'visiting' the blood district, and had explained that it was best to go as early as possibly, before the brunt of the visitors came, so that the slaves were less tired and in a better shape, since the more the night progressed, the more the amount of customers grew, and, as the old hunter put in a rather unsubtle manner " 'unless you're into that sorta thing, 'tis best to go before they're so messed up that they can barely stand and are all banged up. Not that that ain't fun too, but it depends on what yer' looking for."

If the slaves were hurt, unless the damage was such that they were completely unusable for the rest of the night, they wouldn't be treated until the next day. So the timing was important, especially when going for a slave that might be more popular, receive more customers, and thus be more likely to get hurt.

Zero counter-checked the display, wanting to make sure before going in, and Kaname was indeed nowhere to be seen. The regal fauteuil Zero had seen the pureblood shackled to the previous time was still in place, empty.

As he ran his eyes over the window one last time, the hunter noted that some of the other vampires in the display had nervous expressions, seeming particularly bothered by something today, which he couldn't pinpoint.
Not all of them looked that way, most were impassible or sporting the usual empty gazes, the dead light in their eyes giving them the appearance of a glass doll, perfect beauty made empty in their hearts by years of abuse and forced acceptance of a life of servitude in the most humiliating manner.

A few others had a more hardened, almost cruelly amused gaze, apparently reveling in the sight of the despair etched on the face of the ones who were looking nervous and who had caught Zero's eye.
A young vampire with a boyish beauty enhanced by his tousled blond locks and striking blue eyes looked particularly sorrowful and jittery. So did the two sitting closest to him --a female with long hair falling over her shoulders and arms in cascading waves, and a male with fiery hair and a dead-looking gaze.

That little mystery occupied the hunter's mind for a few instants, but he shrugged off the thought, unable to figure out whatever might be causing the strange moods of the creatures in the window.

Zero went in anyway, and asked at the front desk if the pureblood was with a customer and when he would be free, to know if he should just stick around and wait. They had tables and a tea-house service for customers interested in a slave in particular and willing to be momentarily entertained by others while waiting for their turn with the one that was busy.

The attendant, a balding man with wrinkly skin and a sleazy gaze --whom Zero wondered if he was the husband of the old harpy who'd been at the desk the previous time he visited--, informed the young hunter that the wait would be much too long, and that he should just return another day.

The pureblood had been with a special customer all day already. The old man explained that there was someone 'real important', who came to visit the young pureblood once a month or so, and who would call ahead and take him out of commission to spend a whole day and a night with him each time he came. The house would normally begin business hours in the evening only, but exceptions were always made for special customers.

And apparently, that customer liked things rather rough, so it usually took some more time before the pureblood could be put back to work again, from what the man told Zero.

"So it's all over for today, young sir. Just come back tomorrow or the day after, and you can have him all for yourself as much as you want. Today it's just not possible."

In truth, the man knew that the next day would probably be impossible as well—due to the consequences of today—but he was greedy enough that he didn't want to risk missing a customer for so little.

The man had of course offered Zero to get him any other slave instead, but the hunter wasn't interested in just any vampire. After all, he'd merely returned to the house because he was so puzzled by that pureblood in particular.

Zero was disappointed –and even more than a little surprised that someone would rent a slave for such a length of time, regularly no less—but there was no way around it, so he decided to return the next day and walked out sighing heavily, cursing the poor timing that made that he'd have to rush home for a cold shower now.

To his surprise, he found that he had a thread of worry forming for the pureblood, at the idea of what he might be going through at the current moment. He didn't expect to feel that way considering he'd only met him once, and even more so, considering that it was… a bloodsucker, a beast, a slave… but he just couldn't help the strange feeling worming its way in his mind, replacing his heated mood of a moment ago with images of that pale skin marred with bruises, making the hunter feel strange and uncomfortable.

Absentmindedly, Zero wondered if perhaps the three vampires in the display window, who had been looking so sad and worried had been that way because they knew what was happening to the pureblood. If that was the case, they were in danger themselves, as loyalty to purebloods was punished severely rather than rewarded, in this day and age.

Only very few still regarded their fallen lords with anything close to respect. The majority had learned the lesson well, and avoided the issue as well as they could, when they didn't downright look down on the purebloods for how low they'd fallen, and for their failure to protect the vampire race from this cruel fate. It didn't matter that purebloods were much too rare to have changed the course of the war, or that the vampire society had been cruelly using them already before the war anyway. It was easier to blame them, and so much of the lower ranks did so…

--

Kaname had been feeling a rising dread all the past few days, as it was usually the case when a certain time of the month neared. The handlers knew when the man would come, because he apparently called ahead of time to have Kaname taken out of the row, but of course they didn't care to inform the pureblood when that would be, so most of the times he only found out when he was told to wait in his room, instead of being taken to the display if it was in the evening, or, if the man came in the morning, instead of being allowed to sleep to be ready for the next night.

He couldn't do anything to guess the timing of the unpredictable surprise visits, but the habitual monthly ones lasted much longer and were always around the same time, give or take a few days, so it was always an inevitable crescendo of terror as each new customer made Kaname turn to the door with utter dread, expecting the loathed face to show up the next time the door opened to let someone in.

And inevitably, sooner or later it always did. The pureblood didn't have access to his powers due to the drugs, but instinctive sixth sense was something else altogether, and when the door clicked that morning, he somehow knew it, even before he could see who it was.

"Ichiou…"

The pureblood's whisper was almost a low growl, seeping with absolute hatred.

The older man walked in, power dripping from his gait with each step, the tip of his cane clacking against the wooden floor of the room. His eyes were as cold and unflinching as ever, contrasting with the twisted smirk beginning to show on his lips as he approached the pureblood, who was standing not far from the bed, doing all he could to appear calm. Ichiou enjoyed immensely those opening minutes each time he visited Kaname, the moments where he got to see the dread rising fast within the young pureblood, before he started playing with him.

"Tut-tut, you know I don't go by that name anymore…"

The sickening smile of pure sadistic glee that took over the older man's face sent a spike of instinctive fear up Kaname's spine.

If this was the world they had both lived in before the war, Kaname could have torn him to pieces with a mere thought. Even if the older man had still been a vampire, and not a human as he was now, a wolf in the guise of a lamb, Kaname could have destroyed him before Ichiou had the time to lay a single finger on him. Political reasons would have made it impractical and dangerous then because of the council, but it was still physically perfectly possible, in the old world.

But this world they lived in now was a twisted, upside down thing.

A world where the hunters had completely upset the balance of things, and where Kaname was in such a vulnerable position, that even if he hadn't been completely drained, weakened and starved of blood as he was, the drugs and restraining charms alone would have made him completely helpless in the enemy's hands.

While the young pureblood was prisoner and unjustly subjected to the most humiliating horrors, Ichiou was human, free to come and go anywhere he wished, unhindered by any of the fools around him, who completely believed that he was one of them.

He had a hunter's strength now, by an unforgivable method, cheating nature and betraying everything that was most sacred. An old spell from a long gone age had sealed his vampire genes and enabled this unforgivable superchery, at a terrible cost.

And by other equally twisted methods, Ichiou had regained his memories and sneaked his way into the human society, thanks to his alliance with the corrupt president of the Hunter Association, who provided him with all the forged background he had needed at the end of the war.

The ex-vampire's plans had worked well, and no one among the humans suspected that he could be anything but a respectable fellow hunter.

And Kaname's position as a slave made that even if he took the risk to speak of it to anyone, no one would ever believe a word he said. He would only get punished more harshly for daring to speak against a hunter… not to mention that Ichiou had also wormed his way well up the Hunter Association's hierarchy, and was in a rather comfortable position now, his corrupt alliances and his current rank making him very much untouchable no matter what he did. He had been excellent at the games of the old world while he controlled the vampire council, and he excelled just as well in the games of this new world.

Ichiou took a sadistic pleasure in reminding the young pureblood of how powerless and utterly at his mercy he currently was, through all manner of things, especially during his monthly visits.

Kaname knew well that resisting would only result in things being much worse for himself, but he just couldn't help it, regardless of how much the lesson had sank in deep, over ten years. Normally, he never resisted the customers, knowing that it would be pointless and just earn him additional beatings without achieving anything other than weakening him further, but this man… with him things were different.

With him, no matter how painful it would inevitably be, Kaname couldn't help but resist each time, his heart rebelling against his reason and refusing at any cost to submit, even if he knew that resistance was entirely futile and pointless, something done almost more for the sake of appearances… merely to fool himself a little longer, since he no longer could fool the enemy in front of him.

Kaname could submit to the customers because there was always a hope that they might not come back, or even if they did, it wasn't a certain, absolute inevitability. What nearly inexistent pride he might still have wasn't entirely shattered by giving his body to them because there was always that hope, and more importantly, it wasn't personal. He could close his eyes while they ravaged him, and let his mind drift away to his little haven, trying his very best to block the loathsome sensations and sounds. But with Ichiou, things were very, very personal. Kaname loathed him with a burning passion born of hatred and fury, that overwhelmed any other feeling in his body.

And with Ichiou, he was terrified beyond reason. He couldn't possibly block anything at all. A single finger from that man touching him was enough to make his skin crawl and feel like it was about to break into hives, worse than anyone else's touch.

The mere sight of the older man was a permanent reminder of what he had done, not only the more direct and physical things that he'd done to Kaname himself, but what he did to the young pureblood's family. The horror had scarred deep into his memory, impossible to ever ignore.

And so inevitably, Kaname found himself resisting, bruised arms trying to shove the man away, weakened thighs trying to close with any thread of strength they could possibly muster, regardless that they knew they were tiring fast and would soon be forced apart by brutal hands. He would go on resisting and struggling regardless of how much the man beat him each time, and regardless of the fact that –resistance of not—the pureblood knew well that he stood no chance.

No matter how much hatred showed on Kaname's face, deep inside he was terrified beyond belief. He'd always been terrified of Ichiou, almost as much as he hated him. Because he knew that regardless of his best attempts to resist and all the rage he may feel, Ichiou would inevitably beat him down into submission and rape him, yet again, over and over. No matter how much he tried to fight, in the end he would be completely incapable of stopping him, and the older man would humiliate him and drown him with physical and mental abuse until Kaname broke to pieces all over again… And then, the shame of having surrendered yet again would tear him apart and devour him inside, the force of his hatred for the man turning against himself for his weakness, for his surrender, for his never ending agony of shame that he couldn't possibly stop.
It was so much worse than any physical abuse than a random customer could put him through.

Who knew what new depraved tortures the older man had in stock for the pureblood this time around? Kaname repressed the trembling that was threatening to take over his arms and legs, and addressed his enemy a cold glare, quite an achievement for one so close to the edge of panic.

Someone who knew Kaname less well might almost have thought him in control of himself. Someone who had never seen those two interacting before might have even believed the apparent poise in the pureblood's bearing, that wanted itself self-confident and proud, ready to face his enemy without giving an inch of terrain.

But in truth, the ice was giving way under the pureblood's feet fast.

A frozen terror was slowly poisoning Kaname's muscles, clouding his reason as he desperately clung to what little stubbornness he still had left –to replace his pride, that was long lost—and focused his entire will into not letting his knees buckle under him nor allow himself to step back.

By an effort that cost Kaname all of his willpower, he managed to stay upright even as the older man approached, but he couldn't prevent himself from eventually stepping back when he got too close, and then, the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell back sitting on it.

Ichiou smirked hungrily at the sight of the flash of terror that passed through Kaname's eyes before it was quickly hidden, the pureblood's intensely nervous face steeling itself into a mask of utterly fake calm, forcing itself to appear cold and detached rather than admitting how terrified he was, especially now that the ex-vampire was standing right by the bed, in the spot between the pureblood's parted legs, preventing him from closing them.

Ichiou seized Kaname by his chin in a firm grip, and forced him to look up, sizing up the amount of defiance to expect today from the glare the pureblood was still sporting.

"So what will it be this time, my little slave? Will you cooperate and be nice, or will you get the whip or the cane again? Or do you need a stronger reminder this time? Hhm? Do we need a repeat of some of the previous lessons…? You have always learned so slowly…"

If it was mere physical pain, it would be nothing. Kaname would hurt on the moment but he would endure and rely on the knowledge that his body would heal anyway. Even the humiliation, Kaname somehow thought he could take most of it and manage to pull himself together afterwards again. Maybe. He'd been doing it for so long after all. He kept surviving, swallowing the shame and telling himself he could push yet a little bit farther.

The problem was, this was different. This was wildly different. Ichiou was different.

And not just because he was extremely good at torture and debasing his victim, by far better than any of the passing customer or even the more specialized handlers.

Ichiou was a complete different case. Not only he'd been in a very large part responsible for the demise of Kaname's family at the end of the war, but after that, after the tragedy at the Kuran manor, after Kaname had lost in one night everything he'd ever had…

The pureblood had been so young back then. He'd been so lost, so completely torn by the loss of his loved ones. So desperately hoping that Yuuki at least would make it out of the horror safely.
He'd made sure that she was on her way to safety before he went back to the house and walked right into the most horrible trap.
But if what happened there wasn't bad enough, once the fight was over and Kaname had lost, badly wounded from the battle with Rido, the young pureblood found himself regaining conscience in an unknown place, in shackles, drugged, and completely at Ichiou's mercy.

The nightmare that followed would leave a raw wound on his soul that was still bleeding now, dread dripping through his body with each shuddering breath he let out as the older man leaned over him and Kaname desperately tried to steady his breathing, as he wished his heart wouldn't be beating so loudly, confessing his fear to the enemy in the most shameful manner. With each new meeting, Kaname was reminded of every single instant of the period he spent in Ichiou's grip shortly after the war ended.

Back when Ichiou had him at his mercy for the very first time, Kaname believed himself strong, proud, powerful…

A pureblood's body naturally started to mature at an age slightly earlier than that of a human. It was evolution's gift to enhance their chances of surviving and reproducing despite the danger of everyone around them desiring their blood.
So by the time he was captured Kaname had already technically gone through puberty and reached sexual maturity, even though back in his sheltered life, he hadn't had any experiences whatsoever, as his parents had managed to protect him from the council's machinations so far. Regardless of his body's maturity, he was still completely innocent, as much as a human his age would have been.

Idealistic, proud and utterly innocent, almost to the point of naïveté when it came to such things…

He was ready to fight to his last breath. He would not submit. Or so he believed.

But he quickly found out that the drugs made him weaker than a human even, unable to use his powers, unable to do anything. Unable even to heal properly between the sessions of abuse. He struggled weakly in his captor's hands, but still he tried to fight. The doses were upped even more, until he was too lost in drug-induced hallucinations to be able to even think of trying to stop Ichiou. No longer could the young pureblood tell whether it was reality or nightmare, when he was alone and when there was someone in the room with him. There were times when he was so far gone that his body and mind ached to the point that he didn't know if he was still being raped or just hallucinating alone on the dirty cot his raw wrists were shackled to.
Hands all over his body, bruising his skin, forcing him spread open… He could never tell when he was imagining and when it was real.

He was passed around countless times, and lost track of time and space. Weeks, months passed without him knowing what to do or what to expect anymore, losing himself mind and body completely, unable even to remember how long had passed or in how many ways he'd been raped. He'd forgotten his own age, nearly forgotten his own name and the faces of his loved ones. At first, he'd tried focusing on them in his mind, desperately afraid of losing that last thing that made him who he was. But soon he felt too dirty to even dare to think of their faces, afraid he's soil the memories with his presence.

Slowly, he wondered if his very sanity was eroding away with each session, with each rape, with each additional moment of horror hanging on the very edge between reality and horrifying hallucinations, the amped up drugs twisting his perceptions and cruelly playing with his ability to tell what was happening.

Until he finally lost himself completely, pride and self-respect shattering to pieces irreparably when he finally gave in and begged for mercy. He never forgave himself for breaking.

Nor did he ever stand back up again after that fall.

In the best days of his imprisonment, he curled up on the dreadful cot and sobbed as silently as he could, not having the strength to even tug at his restraints.
Regardless that he had had no choice over anything, he hated himself a little bit more with each concession he was forced to make, with each plead that escaped his lips torn by force by his amused tormentors. The sound of his begging was music to their ears, but it never was enough to make them stop.

In his own eyes, he was damned forever. His guilt and shame tore at him constantly, almost as badly as the horrifying nightmares had, lost between both feelings. Surrender left an even more bitter taste in his mouth than the agony of the rapes and the torture had. The combined damage caused by both was absolutely irreparable, and had haunted the young pureblood ever since, making surviving each day a terrible challenge, even long after he'd left Ichiou's place. He may be in a brothel now rather than under the older man's roof, but he knew well that that too was for Ichiou's amusement, and that he was still just as deeply at his mercy here than if he was still in his old cell.

The days Ichiou came to 'visit' him, Kaname couldn't help but remember the past horrors even more vividly. He sometimes couldn't help but feel amazed that he did retain his sanity after all. There were days were it seemed unbelievable that he'd survived such an ordeal and only lost his pride, self-respect and other such things in the process.

And then, Ichiou would lay his fingers on Kaname's skin, and the abject terror spiking through the pureblood's body would make him question that idea, suddenly unsure whether he had really kept his sanity or whether this entire world around him was nothing but a living nightmare, and he was still shackled to the dirty cot, screaming himself hoarse and choking in his sobs ten years ago, under Ichiou's bucking hips.

And Ichiou knew exactly the extent of his power over Kaname. He knew exactly what it took to break him all over again, all the pieces of the pureblood's abused conscience falling apart under the right words and actions.

Each and every single time he visited Kaname, not only did he remind him exactly of the power he held over him, but he broke him all over again, leaving nothing but devastation in his wake when he left.

After each of those visits, which were scheduled in advance and lasted considerably longer than any normal customer's, the young pureblood was usually out of commission for a whole day to recover. Not because the 'house' cared in any way for his mental or physical health, but because Kaname was so terribly damaged mentally and physically after Ichiou left, that he wasn't fit to see anyone, not presentable to a customer nor even sane enough to be used by them, as he was very much unable to comprehend orders or comply to them, often enough unable to even stand, reduced to a curled up heap of sobbing misery.

--

Elsewhere, in an apartment of the upper areas of the city, where a number of the more renowned hunter clans lived, Zero was sitting at the desk in his room. He was trying to concentrate on some papers for the Association, but just couldn't get his mind into it.

He kept thinking back of a particular thing the old man at the desk of the 'house' had told him.

He'd said that he could come back the next day, but that the customer with Kaname was 'special', and very demanding, so they couldn't risk making a reservation or book the pureblood in advance for a customer wanting to see him just afterwards, because they couldn't guarantee that he'd be in condition to service someone right away, nor could they know exactly how many hours it might take before he was presentable again…

Zero knew that many of his fellow hunters were extremely rough with slaves, and it wasn't all that uncommon for some to torture them for fun --some even going to the houses more for that than merely for sexual services--, but vampires healed fast, especially purebloods… So for it to be that bad, how rough was that customer?!

Zero kept telling himself that it must be common practice or the house wouldn't accept having their merchandise regularly damaged, but the whole situation was already exceptional anyway, and he couldn't help but keep going back to that thread of worry for the pureblood, that was still in his mind.

He didn't even really realize it on a conscious level, but he found himself remembering the vampire's lightly flushed face, and the way those sad eyes would look down, hands seizing the bedsheets tightly to conceal the way his fingers were shaking. The pureblood looked so utterly vulnerable at that moment that Zero had felt that he might break like glass if he'd touched him. He felt so bad for him, for the horrible life he lead, for the obvious way he feared the customers' touches, that he hadn't been able to bring himself to touch him in the way he'd meant to when he walked into the room.

And now, that same feeling that had made him unable to touch him back then was making him dread what might be happening to the poor pureblood at this exact moment.

He had made the decision to go and sleep with him after all, because he'd more or less managed to convince himself –his hormones were a considerable help in that task-- that as long as he didn't torture him or anything, there was nothing wrong with the act itself, considering what slaves were for. …But that somehow didn't change the fact that he was very much worried of what that 'demanding customer' might do to the pureblood. One could hear many stories of people who would go out of their way for the sole purpose to cause exceptional pain to the vampire slaves, so nothing would really surprise Zero, or at least the hunter thought. But each attempt of his reason to shoo away the thoughts was faced with a renewed worry for the vampire.

Realizing the source of his inability to concentrate, Zero felt more than a bit miffed, which in turn led him to wonder if he wasn't maybe overreacting. After all, it was one thing to be intrigued by the vampire because he seemed different from what he'd expected… it was another thing altogether to let such thoughts go far enough that it started disturbing his life. Especially when he had only met him once and didn't even know if his impression was accurate or if he'd simply been fooled by the bloodsucker.

Could it have been all an act because the pureblood had sensed Zero's inexperience and played with it to get out of it easy? The hunter mused, recalling each moment and over-analyzing every glance and word of the other. There was no way to be sure, with vampires, after all. And purebloods were extremely cunning. Hadn't that same one read through Zero so easily and poured him a bath before the hunter had even voiced a single word on the subject?

He shrugged off the strange ideas as best as he could, determined to not let a bloodsucker insinuate himse- …itself into his thoughts like that.

He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the longcase clock against the wall. Ichiru was still not home?!

The younger twin had been spending more and more time out of home as the years passed, but Zero never quite got used to it, feeling weird all by himself in the apartment they shared, and worrying whenever Ichiru was late or told him to eat by himself and not wait for him.

It was ironical really, because in theory, Ichiru was the weaker one, the one who depended on Zero for so much, but in truth, Zero himself was terribly dependent of his brother, always worried about whether Ichiru was doing fine or not, whether his health was getting better, whether he might be angry if Zero asked too many questions or intruded in his privacy or anything. Ichiru could be very secretive, and hated people prying in his personal life... even his twin. So Zero hesitated on and on.
Zero may be the active-duty hunter and official head of the household, but in truth, his love for his brother and the guilt he still now felt for what he did before they were even born ruled much of his life.

The twins had been living in that apartment for four years now, at first under the guardianship of their teacher, a renowned hunter named Yagari, who'd trained them as children and then helped them after the death of their parents, dropping by every day and making sure that the twins were eating and taking care of themselves properly, as constantly present as his missions allowed him to be, at least until the boys reached their coming of age, which for hunters happened between the ages of 15 and 16.

The twins lived now mostly by themselves if you didn't count the fact that Yagari would still often hang around, the twins' apartment practically an extension of his own place since he'd often drop by uninvited and with no particular reason, welcomed with open arms by Zero, who viewed him as a sort of fatherly figure even if the two of them were rather too shy to mention things in such an open way. Yagari simply was there for them, regularly present as an indivisible part of their lives, or more exactly, of Zero's life, since Ichiru had dropped off hunter training a while before and had grown more and more distant with the years, claiming he was busy trying to get himself a life where his strength as a hunter wouldn't be needed, when in truth, he just didn't want to be around Yagari and Zero too much.

Inevitably, Zero always thought that Ichiru avoided them because Yagari and the training reminded him too much of all the things that –by Zero's fault—Ichiru couldn't have. The guilt burned tenfold for Zero, in those moments.

Of course, he had no way to know that there were much darker reasons why Ichiru wanted to spend so much time out of their home… But Zero was too trusting to have even thought of counter-checking whether Ichiru really spent his time at the places he claimed he did.

Zero glanced at the clock again and felt tempted to call his brother, as it was getting more and more late. But Ichiru did often return late, and hated being disturbed when he was busy, so Zero hesitated to call him, even on his cell phone.

He was a bit angry at himself that his foolish worries for the vampire earlier had made him miss the fact that his twin, the flesh of his flesh, was still out there doing who-knows-what at such an hour.
Well, not exactly who-knows-what, as he'd told Zero where he would be and all, but still.

If he should be worried about anyone, it should be Ichiru –regardless of the fact that Ichiru wasn't even an active-duty hunter, and was hardly at great risk—not some bloodsucker!

In turn, the anger Zero felt at himself crossed over and made him feel angry at the pureblood, unconsciously resenting him for distracting him that way.

The hunter told himself that this little obsessive bout could only be caused by the fact that he'd wasted his chance last time, and so he made the firm decision to immediately go to the house as soon as he could get off work the next day, and finally rent the pureblood for a few hours, this time to actually go and take him, as many times and in as many ways as it may take for this nonsensical little obsession of sorts to cease at last.

Inevitably, the decision triggered a new flurry of rather interesting mind images that left the hunter in a dire need for another cold shower at the idea of the various sorts of depraved things he envisioned doing to the pureblood, both for the sake of pleasure simply, and also for a little payback for getting him so enticed in just one meeting.

Unknown to Zero, back in the blood district, Kaname was reaching the deepest spheres of despair.

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[tbc]


"Funeral of hearts", by HIM. :D It's an awesome song, and "an ode for cruelty" (this chapter's title) is a chunk from the lyrics. :D

I'm sure you recognized the three vampires in the display window, by the way? ^^/

NOTE:
If you are wondering why they both behave slightly differently,
it's because while they are still the same people, they have lived very different lives from the ones they had in the normal VK storyline, so it inevitably influenced their outlook of the world and the way they react to various things:
Zero still grew up among hunters, but he wasn't present at the death of his parents, and was never turned into a vampire, so his hatred for the whole species never went to the extremes it has in the series. (The death of his parents was a tragedy, but the memory of the war was still somewhat recent too, Zero didn't lose everything like he had in normal VK, and as a result in the end it didn't have exactly the same effect.)
Kaname on the other hand, is of course still a pureblood and influenced by the way he was raised, but he has also been a slave for the past ten years, and is much too used to being beaten for no reason, so by now he knows better, and is a lot more careful and submissive than he was when he'd just been captured.
On top of that, Kaname didn't go through the same things he did in the manga, of being under Ichiou's guardianship etc, so he didn't get used as much to the same type of powergames and mental struggles from the same type of more cold/calculating viewpoint. The type of abuse he's suffered after the war was a lot more direct and lacking in subtlety.

To give a more exact idea: take the innocent and trusting Kaname from the flashbacks in the manga (yes, that Kaname that chairman Cross would say was so innocent and each time cutely fell for whatever story the chairman made up), and then imagine how he might turn out if instead of having had to learn to manipulate people under his authority, he was captured while still innocent and gentle, and was completely traumatized by years of abuse and slavery. (I'm going with the setting that vampires hit puberty earlier than humans, for survival reasons, although I don't know yet if the ages will be AU to be older back at the time of the war or not.)

Keep in mind this is AU, so a lot of the settings are different, some just a little, others a lot, so of course that inevitably affects how the characters are, even if they are still the same characters. ;D Certain details change.