Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Please read and review my little bloody valentine while I try to pass my core classes.
Nao looked around her surroundings with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity—the latter of which was fueled solely by alcohol as it slowly burned away from fear. Around her, buildings rose high into a starless sky, their glassy façade pockmarked by the occasional square of light. Swaths of people thinned into stragglers and drunken groups as she and Yakumo passed them by. Whether there were so few people because of the late time, or because Yakumo had taken them to a more secluded area, Nao was unsure. She only knew that as they progressed, the further away her apartment grew.
Coffee. The statement had nearly caused her to laugh before the realization that he knew where she lived had steadied her tongue. But now that the shock had worn off, Nao found—despite her slight inebriation—that the suggestion of caffeine to counteract the alcohol was a confusing one. Humans must make for an easier target when intoxicated, so why try to sober her up? Unless of course alcohol makes people taste funny. Or maybe Yakumo wanted her to be more afraid of him than she currently was.
Regardless of the reason Nao let him steer her for this supposed pursuit of "coffee", if only because when it came to alcohol its effects made her more loose-lipped and careless than she usually was, and she wanted to think more clearly for what was currently happening.
"How long have you known?" Nao asked him quietly, glancing up at the curvature of his jaw before flicking her eyes forward again.
"How long do you think?" he laughed, the sound deep and vibrating within her bones. "All that scurrying you did was fun to watch."
Nao's lip curled in anger as she spat bitterly, "I'm sure my fear has been very enjoyable for you," before abruptly twisting away from him, his hand squeezing her shoulder painfully the moment she did, and dragging her back in place beside him. "Let me go home! Or…or I'll—" she burst, floundering for a threat before he cut her off with a sneer of disdain.
"You'll scream? You haven't screamed yet, why should you now?"
Nao was silent before she replied near mutely, "…I don't scream." It was true that while she had been subject to many torments—a majority of which had to do with the Interrogator's sick games or Yakumo's own attempts at toying with her—she had never once screamed for help. One may attribute this to either fear-induced mutism or maybe stupidity, but Nao only ever remembered the last time she had screamed for someone to help, and the blatant stares she had received as she wept over the dismembered remains of her father wedged beneath the wheels of a train.
Of course, the last time Nao had truly screamed was one Yakumo enjoyed. "You did once," he said, bending down to her level to murmur in her ear, "And I'll make you do it again." The ghoul laughed as Nao shriveled away as far as his hand would allow her, straightening back up to his full height as they slowed to a halt inside a narrow side street.
Nao stared owlishly at the glowing exteriors of a short row of vending machines as Yakumo's hand slid from her shoulder and went to his pants' pocket. "So…so there was actually coffee…?" Nao asked somewhat incredulously. In all honesty she had expected him to lead her away into a dark, secluded alley, kill her, and eat her—hopefully in that order. Not to say that she didn't still think this was his endgame, but she hadn't fully expected him to take her somewhere for coffee.
'Maybe humans do taste funny with alcohol,' Nao thought as she watched the ghoul insert a few coins, and stoop to retrieve a can from the machine.
"You're not going to try and run?" he asked, his back to her as he cracked the tab on the canister.
In her head Nao thought it rather pointless, but at the same time she seriously began debating it before the argument fizzled out in the light of avid curiosity. Nao openly stared as Yakumo brought the can up to his lips and tilted his head slightly back. After a few deep swallows Yakumo pulled the can away and looked at her over one massive shoulder. "What?" he said once, annoyed by the look of incredulity on Nao's face before she bowed her head and looked away from him, shocked back into her usual submissive self.
"N-Nothing. I just…I didn't know ghouls drank coffee," she explained lightly, quickly, before she turned her attention to the vending machine, digging through all manner of odds and ends in her purse for a few coins. As soon as the hot canister was in her hands, Nao began to feel better—not necessarily about her situation, or even about the small amount of alcohol still sluggishly making its way through her brain. Maybe it was the simple pleasure of a hot drink in her cold hands. Or maybe it was just the alcohol slackening her mind.
Nao turned around, uncomfortable with her back facing him, and leaned against the warmth of the vending machine. Prior to now she had never known the machines were here, nestled in a narrow side street that didn't look to be well used. Across from her Yakumo had leaned back against brickwork, one hand tucked into his pants' pocket as he stared at her over the rim of his coffee. Contrarily, Nao kept him in her periphery vision—not quite looking at him, but not willing to let him out of her sight.
For Nao, the silence between them felt strange and unpleasant; for Yakumo it was a chance to observe her up close and personal now that she wasn't quivering in fear.
"It used to be longer," he remarked offhandedly as Nao brushed a short lock of dark brown hair behind one ear. Nao shrugged as she cracked the top of her lukewarm can and quietly nursed her drink. When she'd woken in that hospital bed, all she'd been dressed in was a paper-thin robe and gauze. The only evidence of her trauma beyond the obvious was the blood still matted in her hair. Sticky, stubborn, knotted; each tug upon her scalp as she'd done her best to wring out the blood had reminded her of a vicious hand. Her hair had still been dripping when she'd taken a pair of scissors to it; keeping the length near-ish to her chin ever since. Despite the length however, Yakumo had been able to catch her the last time she had tried to flee. It made her wonder if the proximity had been too close, or if the length was still too long.
"…Was it easy to grab?" Nao asked, more to the air than to the man four feet in front of her before quickly retracting the question. "D-Don't answer that! I…I don't want to know." Nao couldn't help but fidget with herself, her left hand split between smoothing down her hair every time a light breeze ruffled it and fiddling with the bottom edge of her blouse, all the while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Like the month before Nao wanted to run, but she lacked two fundamental keys for doing so: opportunity and proper state of mind—the latter of which was due to her being a lightweight when it came to alcohol. If she had the chance to run, Nao would more so trust that she'd trip and fall, much less that she'd make it to the end of the street.
Yakumo kept eerily silent as she drank her coffee down to the dregs, her throat too exposed as she tilted her head back to catch the last beads of mild bitterness on her tongue. It might have been a placebo effect, but Nao felt her head clear little-by-little, the beginning thrums of a small headache blooming at her temples. She clutched the empty can to her, at a loss with what to do with herself aside from watch the man before her as he tossed away his coffee. The fear that had been edging her mind surged forward in a wave of unease.
"Why…" Nao said, trailing off for a moment when Yakumo's eyes flashed, his attention on her as she flinched before spitting out, "W-Why are you doing this?" Rather than answer her, he asked a question of his own.
"Why do you think?" She felt sure he was playing with her. Still, Nao's brows bunched together as she thought about the reasons why he might have been doing this sort of thing; leading her away from more public areas, causing her anxiety to skyrocket with the promise of another "meet up", maybe even lead her into a false sense of security. Nao's only guess had to do with that time. That time she had let the consequences be damned again and again despite her better judgement and prior threats by a madman.
"…I…I-I'm sorry," Nao stuttered, her eyes dropping to a spot just above the ground, just high enough to see the top yellow button on his suit jacket in her peripheral. "I'm really…I'm so sorry…I—I'm sorry that I—" Nao was cut off as he raised his right hand, his thumb rubbing along the side of his index finger before pausing near the knuckle. Saw the finger bend down towards his palm before the snap reached her, the sound reverberating in her ears along with the sound of empty aluminum hitting asphalt as her can fell from limp hands.
"What're you sorry for?" he pressed, a smile playing along his lips, though Nao's eyes were fixated on his hand, and on his shoes as he pushed off of the wall and started walking towards her. For half a second she expected him to be holding a knife or a hammer, or maybe even a pair of pliers.
Nao's mouth gaped open several times before she stammered out, "I—I shouldn't have—"
"You shouldn't have taken those stakes out of me?" Yakumo asked, his already low voice growing gruff as he; looming over her as she drew back from him, her back and her hands pressed tight against the heated surface of the vending machine. "You shouldn't have helped me?" Nao flinched as he pressed the palms of his hands flat against the Plexiglas on either side of her head, caging her beneath his body once again.
"NO! I—I mean—" Nao was cut off as he stooped down to her level, his eyes boring into hers as he finished her excuse.
"You shouldn't have gotten involved?"
Nao's heart hammered in her chest as she saw with full clarity the severity of her situation. Revenge. Revenge. He wants to kill me. He's going to kill me! ran like a loop as her mouth stumbled over one single syllable; trailing off in silence as Yakumo broke into a lazy grin. Tears pricked her eyes as black clouded white sclera and vibrant red irises stared down at her. "Who said I wanted an apology?" Nao's lower lip trembled as she felt the pads of his fingers touch her neck, creeping along the nape and into her hair before they twisted around the loose strands.
As the roots of her hair was yanked from her scalp, Nao gasped in pain as her head was wrenched further back against the vending machine, bearing the smooth column of her neck to the man before her—or rather: exposing one of the most vulnerable parts of her to a man-eating ghoul. As Yakumo stooped down closer to her, Nao squeezed her eyes shut, nearly hyperventilating as her jaw trembled and her heart beat out of control. Nao was so certain that he would be able to feel it the moment his teeth sank into her windpipe, that she was making it worse for herself by making her blood pump faster.
How ironic that her heart only stopped when what she felt—rather than searing pain in her neck—was a heavy pressure against her mouth.
Nao's eyes flew open in shock before they closed again, wriggling beneath the ghoul as he pressed his lips against her more forcibly. Her hands grabbed at the fabric covering his chest, unsure of what to do besides just cling there. Should she try and push him away? Try to claw at his face? More than anything Nao was confused and…just a little disturbed. What was happening? What was he doing? The more she wiggled and wormed—her lips and jaw locked so hard her teeth hurt—the tighter his hand wrapped around her hair.
And then she felt the curl of his other hand's forefinger cradling her chin, the pad of his thumb pressing hard into the dip below her lower lip. Nao's jaw ached as it was lowered millimeter-by-millimeter, the tight seam of her lips parting beneath Yakumo's as he all but devoured her. Though how else could she describe the way he moved against her mouth as anything besides hunger. Especially when she felt something slippery and wet slide along her bottom lip.
Tongue! Nao whimpered as the fleshy appendage snaked its way into her mouth, her hands tightening around the material of Yakumo's jacket as his tongue invaded her mouth. Nao's heart beat erratically in her chest as she felt it rub along her tongue, even as it shrank back as far towards her throat as was possible.
Contrary to the fearful thoughts that had been filling her mind mere moments prior, Nao now only thought of one: Why? Why on earth was he doing this? Why was he not ripping her throat out and eating her flesh? Though the moment she thought such a thing was the moment Yakumo's tongue withdrew from her mouth, and she felt the sharp edge of his teeth grate against her lower lip just before a sharp pain lit her senses.
"AH!" Blood welled up from the tear in her lip, the metallic taste strong in her mouth as Yakumo lapped at the spilt blood with a lazy flick of his tongue. Nao pushed against the tough muscle of his chest, pursing her lips despite the throbbing. Indulging in her fit he pulled away from her, his body still looming over her too close for comfort; his hand dropping from her face while the other stayed knotted in her hair. Nao released one fistful of his jacket's lapel to simultaneously cover her mouth and wipe at the bit of blood spilling from the cut he had made.
Nao's lip began to throb painfully as she stared up at him with wide toffee-colored eyes, her fear no more than a gleam in the corner as she looked at him with a mixture of shock, confusion and pain. One corner of his lips tugged into a smirk as his tongue sneaked out to sweep across a dot of blood on his lower lip. A faint-pink stripe colored Nao's cheeks and nose as her eyes flicked between the black sclera receding from his eyes and the motion.
"Why did you do that?" she asked him, her voice muffled below her hand.
"I wanted to taste you again," was his plain answer, accompanied by a shrug of his shoulder. As though what he'd just done was normal, as though he hadn't just kissed her—albeit for the reason he had just stated.
Nao narrowed her eyes at him, halfway fuming as she tried to decide what she should feel more of: frustration, fear, or just plain annoyance.
She settled on fear as the slight smile on Yakumo's face slipped into a frown, a flicker of irritation flashing through his eyes as he bent down closer again. Nao kept her hand pressed tight across her mouth as Yakumo nearly buried his flattened nose in the crook between her shoulder and neck; frozen in place as he inhaled whatever had trigged him.
"Who were you with?" His voice was low against her ear, the gravelly quality of it highlighting his annoyance at having smelt a human male's scent draped so close to her. Nao winced as the fingers in her hair readjusted their grip, pulling at the roots as the ghoul pulled away until he was just barely a few centimeters from her nose. His breath fanning her lips as he growled low both an accusation and a taunt, "You got yourself a lover boy?"
Nao ignored the mocking tone in his voice as she swallowed the mixed blood and saliva slowly pooling in her mouth. Who had he smelled? Matsuru? Kazuo? Both wore cloying cologne, but only Kazuo had been close to her that day. For the briefest second she considered that it might be Matsuru he had smelled, but immediately eliminated the possibility. How could it be him when the last time they had been intimate was a month ago? When the last time they had been close even in a casual sense, it had been nearly a week?
Nao dropped her hand from her mouth, and the other from Yakumo's suit jacket. Lover boy? Matsuru was barely even a friend-with-benefits. She cast her eyes away from the reds boring down at her, looking down the long end of the side street as she replied bitterly, "No one you need concern yourself with."
"Is there a problem here?"
Nao jumped at the suddenness of another male voice, only a few octaves higher than the man before her, and originating from her left. Nao looked on reflex towards the sound as the brightness of a flashlight cut through the muted light of the side street. For a split second beyond the ray, Nao found two men in what looked to be blue policemen's uniforms before flicking her gaze up towards Yakumo. While his face seemed to be devoid of either interest or emotion, Nao saw the slight tick of annoyance in his eyes as they narrowed at the intruding men.
"Miss, are you okay?" asked the other as he flicked the flashlight off, his voice softer and kinder than his partner's.
Yakumo turned his face slightly away from Nao towards them, replying impatiently, "We're fine here—"
"Sir, please back away," the first demanded, raising a hand as if to gesture what he wanted, "Miss, we'd like to talk to you for a bit…alone." In the brief hesitation—though Nao could not confirm given the low lighting of their surroundings—Nao felt that the first had looked towards Yakumo, and she began to get an image of how they must look to the policeman pair: a small, haggard-looking woman—courtesy of the last few weeks and these most recent minutes—and a large, intimidating man who looked all the part of a loan-shark or a Yakuza.
"Tch." Yakumo's fingers slipped from her hair as he dropped his hand, his body angling away from her as he moved to take a step towards the officers. Before Nao knew what she was doing, her left hand had shot out to grab his jacket's sleeve, momentarily keeping Yakumo where he stood as he cast a curious look down at her.
"Please," Nao whispered, scarcely moving her lips as she whispered a plea, "Please don't kill them. I—I'll get rid of them." Nao moved closer to him until her feet were between his own, her words still low as the police offers began to grow antsy. "I'll—I'll do whatever you want, but please don't hurt them."
Nao had shifted her face away from the officers' view, untrusting of how desperate and paranoid she must look as she asked for a favor from the ghoul touted as Friday's Reaper. As the annoyed frown warmed into a devious smirk—his eyes more lizard-like than before—Nao knew her suspicions were true. Despite the cold finger running along her spine, Nao chose to take this reversal as acceptance of her deal, and spoke plainly and clearly—more to the officers than to the man in front of her.
"Yakumo-s—kun, it'll only take a few minutes. I'm sure the nice officers have more important things to do tonight." With that, Nao worked to smother her fear and panic until only a small smile remained on her face, and dropped her hand from his arm as she went to talk to the two men who had since been eyeing them suspiciously.
"Miss, are you okay? Do you need help?" the kind one asked as he took her by the crook of her arm and led her closer to the entrance of the side street, well out of ear shot (they supposed) of the frightening-looking man.
"No, I'm alright," Nao replied with a smile, pursing her lips as she licked at the blood still leaking from the cut in her mouth. She hoped she looked half as convincing as she thought she sounded, but either she was a terrible liar—which wasn't far from the mark—or the first officer was just an extremely untrustworthy individual.
"If you're in trouble, just blink twice," he murmured to her under his breath, staring at her eyes very pointedly with only a few glances thrown over her shoulder.
"I'm um—I'm not," Nao repeated, fidgeting in her steps as she peeked back over her shoulder. Yakumo had stayed where she had left him, his hands tucked into his pockets and looking very much like a predatory cat as he watched her try to get the two policemen to leave. "Could I—could I go back now? We were busy talking," she spoke quietly, turning back to the pair just in time to catch a shared look of surprise.
"Do—Do you know this man?"
"We're…acquaintances. Well, I mean…sort of?" They shared a look of disbelief, "We met around three years ago; the Company I used to work for had a few…financial issues, you see," Nao explained, playing into what she knew they thought of the man behind her. "It just sort've happened. You can ask him yourself if you don't believe me."
A beat of silence passed between the Nao and the pair before they turned away from her, and started murmuring to one another. Nao felt a pit open at the bottom of her stomach as she watched them alternate glances between her and Yakumo, their expressions wary bordering on suspicious. Despite her attempt Nao remained tense as she fought against her better instincts to keep her limbs from fidgeting. By the time the first had scoffed and turned away to walk back towards the main street, Nao, who had been trying to ignore the black shadow hanging behind her and probably waiting for her to fail, felt like her body was being wrung out; her upper back aching with how ramrod straight she had kept her spine.
Her brows furrowed in confusion as she watched him walk away before looking back at the kind officer who offered very little in way of explanation for his partner's behavior aside from a simple shrug of his shoulders, and a disarming smile. "I don't think that'll be necessary. As long as you feel safe, Miss," the kind one replied with a flicker of a glance over her head. Shock rang through Nao's head before she gathered herself and bowed her head, hiding her face behind the short tendrils of her hair as she—very quickly—apologized for causing them trouble.
Nao did not raise her head until the officer's shoes had left her field of vision; neither did she turn back towards Yakumo until the two pairs of footsteps receding down the street turned into the low hum of the vending machines beside her. When she turned, however, she was greeted with a low murmur of laughter as Yakumo took long strides towards her. Her spine hardened into that ramrod figure as he towered over her, one hand combing back his blond hair as he snickered down at her,
"You thought I'd kill them?"
Nao said nothing as a small jolt of realization raced through before it was smothered by the murderous intent she had seen firsthand. She now owed him a favor, but she wouldn't believe that she'd been tricked.
"Yes," she replied evenly, small though her voice sounded.
The ghoul dropped his hand to his side, his fingers flexing until he bent one down. Another snap caused her to flinch. "You think I wanna kill you?" he asked, his prior amusement ebbing now that they had gone full circle.
Nao hesitated with her answer. Though it had been on the tip of her tongue, ready to jump, she'd registered with embarrassment and confusion the throbbing of her lips, and the slight pain on the inside of her mouth. Right before a mild ache ran through her left fingers, and shivered up her bones, and caused her to reply with a definitive, "…Yes."
Nao barely saw the flicker of his white suit as he bent his body down beside her, his lips grazing her ear as he murmured both a threat and a promise.
"Don't forget. You owe me more than just your life."
Small shivers wracked Nao's body as her lungs shuddered for breath. The man had been no less than five feet away from her, and she'd scarcely seen him move until her nose was practically buried in his shoulder. The pungent aroma of meat and a deeper smell of musk clung to the air around her as Yakumo stood to his full height, and walked past her out of the side street. Casting over his shoulder the briefest twitch of a sly smile as Nao stared at nothing while her body continued to shake.
Nao ran the tip of her tongue over the long tear on the inside of her lip. Though she still tasted the bitterness of black coffee, she could also still taste metal—though the blood had long since clotted. For the first time that night, however—really from the first time she had smelled him—she hoped to God that the blood she tasted was her own.
