Chapter Nine: Sucked To Be Me

I lightly throw the mage's robes over him, spreading out enough to cover him so that nosey, perverted little girls—I glare—can't peek at him. One of you grins at me and says, "That's your job, right?" I try to glare back but I can't.

Well….it is.

All of you are completely high with the fact that I just did the guy in front of your very eyes. How were we? You all nod enthusiastically saying how extremely…..hell, I ain't saying those words ever. The mage lifts his head weakly—he's lying across my lap—and asks, "Don't you feel sorry for me? Just look at what Kuro-tan did…" I glare at him. And I'll do it to you again if you don't shut up and let me get on with this—you were the one who nagged me to keep going in the first place.

He looks at me for a minute before saying, "I would ask if that was a threat, but…." He smiles. "Just go on."

I narrow my eyes at him, but I face you all, keeping the fingers of one hand threaded through the mage's. So where were we? Yama, right?

The next months passed in a blur of scenes. I knew that I should stop. That people like me just weren't meant to…to fall like this—because when we finally reached the bottom we'd never get back to the top. I was being drawn in deeper and deeper and before long—if it didn't stop soon—it'd be too far to turn back.

The worst part? I wasn't in any control of this. It would only stop when he said it—

"What do you mean you weren't in any control?" the mage says concernedly, sitting up—the silk falls off his body and you all smile in delight.

Huh. And you said I was a bad listener. You interrupt as freaking much as I do! And put on your clothes for fuck's sakes. Any more and we'll have a third intermission, mage.

He purses his lips and straightens enough to slip into the furisode. He takes a seat beside me. "Better?" he asks innocently, his arm using my shoulder as a rest. It'll do, I answer shortly.

And then of course, it was that memory. The one that ended Yama, but began what neither of us could possibly have thought would ever happen. Right after it'd happened, I seriously considered regretting that it'd ever happened…but if it hadn't, then…I didn't know if what followed would've either.

We were in the same positions as the time near the lake—it was dark, and he was sitting back against a tree, but like before, my head was on his lap and my leg propped up. His hand ran through my hair, stroking it again and again—the cool fingers pressing gently into my scalp.

I pushed myself up, and he was already leaning down—his eyes blank. All this time they were always unfeeling—as though I were the only one feeling everything. I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe it was true. Maybe he was just bored…he was enchanting me…making an idiot out of me—no matter how many times I called him the idiot, it was clear who was smarter when it came to these sorts of things. And even if he was only toying with me….

I wanted him to keep doing it.

I'd never been a masochist…but this should be an exception, damn it. This entire DEAL should be a fucking exception to everything in my damn fucking book. This was entirely out of the boundaries of sanity and logic and all other things I used to think. This was insane—as insane as the mage. I didn't want to like this. I didn't want to like this feeling even though I was being fucking dragged, and pushed, and shoved, and yanked into it.

Why did I want this so much?

That was mainly why I did it. I didn't want him to get bored of me. I wanted him to keep this fan-fucking-tastic game going as long as I could. I didn't want him to stop. No, suicide was never even a option to me….I'd live no matter what he did to me….but I'd be dead inside.

I was the one who made the first move, after all, sliding my hands beneath his thighs. I was the one who finally called his name after refraining to do so since I'd met him. Why hadn't I used it before? "Fai." Maybe because he butchered my name so I never even used his.

But he continued the act—pushing it further by untying the cord holding my pants together. I just wanted to see what'd happen—what it'd feel like. I purposely made it so that it wouldn't be anything but the bare act. I wanted to know if it was just like fucking around with a kunoichi—any kunoichi—or if it'd feel different because it was him.

I was nervous, that much I wouldn't deny. Not because it was my first time—hell no. Did you know how many drunken kunoichi Souma brought home every night? Yeah, a lot.

No. I was nervous because I didn't want to hurt him. Yeah, sure, I sounded like one hell of a puss, but it was the truth. He didn't look like the most durable of men….and I wasn't really what you'd call small.

But there was no room for second thoughts—no preparation, no consideration. It was the bare act and absolutely nothing fucking else. That was it.

And I was so fucking done for.

Yeah he was tight and warm and pretty wet for a guy with no oil or anything, but damn. Damn. Damn fucking shit fucking damn shit fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

"You know you really don't have to swear every—"

Shut up, mage, you're ruining the effing mood.

He shuts up.

It wasn't the high that was so intensely great or shit. It wasn't the sex. The sex was all right and the high average….it was him. It was the fact that it was him that made it so…unforgettable. Unbelievable. Incredible.

I could only lie there, staring up at the stars and wondering how the fucking hell I was supposed to get out of this with my insides intact and my mind sane. What was anyone supposed to do in a situation like this? Where their entire mental being depended on another person? A person they knew practically zero shit about?

I straightened myself up to sit back against the tree, trying to compose my breathing. He was already struggling to get up, yanking up his pants and fumbling to tie them.

No. No. You could leave. Don't.

I said those words, knowing he couldn't understand me and thankful that he couldn't. He stared at me, eyes wide—almost shocked. His wrist lingered in my hand for minutes—he just stood there staring at me, uncomprehending. Or…not wanting to comprehend.

Slowly but surely….his face contorted into one filled with undefiled disgust and he ripped his wrist out of my grasp. I didn't know what the word he spat at me was…but I had a good idea of what it meant.

I didn't know you could stab someone without a weapon.

Great. Now you're all glaring at the mage. He doesn't look annoyed like he's supposed to. He looks…sorry…sad almost. I glare. Okay, if you keep that up and get him emo again, I'll stop here, damn it. He smiles quietly at me, "They have every right to do that, Kuro-tan. Just wait until Infinity."

I glare harder and fold my arms. Yeah, just you wait.

We saw Syaoran only the next day. So apparently all that freakin' training we did in Oto didn't go to waste on him. Pretty sharp for a kid. Pretty damn determined, too.

But I could understand the mage now, not that it made a difference. I couldn't say anything I wanted to his face. I couldn't say that I wanted him. I couldn't say any of those things. I couldn't tell him what I'd realized because of this world.

I couldn't tell him that I'd fallen in love with him.

Fuck.