DISCLAIMER: I do not own 'FFVII/AC', 'Silent Hill', 'Bleach' or 'Jigsaw Girl'. All rights belong to Square Enix, Konami, Tite Kubo and the Toadies. I only own my OC and this fanfiction. Thank you.
WARNING: Sexual content in this Chapter-no Lemons, but a session of self-love.
Fucking hell, now it was starting to hurt again down there. Just thinking back upon those visions that had graced his subconscious, slumbering thoughts-oh, it was enough to drive him mad! He was caught between the decision of nullifying his body to pacify his mind...or giving in to that delectable self-pleasure that continued to tease him. Especially now, with the mix of images that had been whipped up in a flurry. Those dreams, goddamn it.
He'd seen her there, before him. Plain as day. Kira. Innocent, gentle, timid Kira. With that shy smile and those ocean eyes, looking at him like he were the sun come to banish away the rainclouds. Or maybe she'd wanted to walk under those same clouds with him?
Slowly, things would start to change. He'd see Kira, in her nightgown or PJs, or even her uniform. But, the setup...
...it was in his room.
The results were always the same. Getting Kira in his room, alone, with the door locked tight. Where no one could ever stumble in upon them. And then...
There she was, spread on the bed like a present waiting to be unwrapped. Those skirts, long or short, being pushed up just so, revealing her legs and thighs, hinting at what lay just beneath the edge. Her hands were usually to the sides of her head, as if she were waiting for someone to come along and pin her there.
He could see the first few buttons of her gown undone up above, a flash more of neck and collar. Or her uniform top would be opened wide, showing off the simple, pastel-hued undergarments that clung to her figure. What, why was it so wrong he knew what sort of underwear his Sister wore? It was for research.
Yeah, research.
But that look. The look on her face. That emotion to her eyes. The flush to her cheeks, as those pale pink lips parted, voice so soft and imploring.
"Onii-chan...I love you..."
He'd woken up in a full sweat the first time it had happened, the images vivid and fresh in his head like he were still trapped in that devil's dream. He'd recalled every sound, every touch, every sensation. Raising a hand to his head, he'd tried to calm his shaky breathing. No-his frantic panting.
Yazoo had seen it like he were watching a movie play out. He'd seen himself walk over to where Kira lay, saw himself crawl over her and lean in close, without a shred of clothing on his form. He'd seen the way she'd looked at him, when he'd bent over to capture her lips in his. Oh, how glorious it had felt, even in this dream-state; the taste of sweet youth and sour lemonade. He'd kissed her like there was no tomorrow, determined to explore anywhere and everywhere he could reach.
The biting. The pulling. The stripping. Seeing all that fair, supple flesh, the slender figure beneath him-and claiming it for his own. The clawing. All those scratches, running along her skin where he'd gripped at her thighs, dragged his nails upon her back. The force and restraint, so willingly accepted, but not out of fear. It was a true desire, to give everything to the one who was taking it away.
The sounds. Oh, those sounds. That was one of the hardest things to handle: hearing that breathy little whisper, that higher-pitched gasp, as she'd addressed him. "Onii-chan..." He couldn't hide it then, nor now-he felt a perverse pleasure at hearing that term of affection being used in such a situation. Taking that picture of innocence, and completely warping it to a bastardized intention, as they feasted on forbidden fruit. He'd wanted to hear more, taste more. Leave as many of his own marks upon her, until his would be the only ones she'd remember, no matter if they would fade in time.
As he'd tried his best to regain composure in his bed, that was when Yazoo had finally felt it: the sticky sheets between his legs, and the hard on that was threatening to tear a hole in his comforter. That was all the confirmation he'd needed: it had been one of those kind of dreams. At the time, he'd attempted to shrug it off as he'd gone and removed all the blankets, wadding them up in the corner before going to get washed up for the day.
A dream. It was just a dream. A strange dream...a kind of sexy one, actually-but! A dream and nothing else. There was no way something like that would occur again-he'd just been too focused on things the night before, and his head wanted to fuck around with him a little. That was fine, he didn't hate the images it bestowed upon him. It was just being a beautiful liar right now.
Or perhaps, that term was best suited to he himself. See also: dreams. Plural. It never was just one, these things always came in some sort of multiples.
At times, so did he.
That last strand. Back in the present day, that final string tethering him to his rational mind, with all the power of fifty ball-and-chains. It was about to snap; once again, the metal links were rusting. They were quite quick about it too, and soon, the demon within would come out to play. The side of him that had taken pleasure in this nighttime fantasy, well before he'd gotten hit with the ton of bricks that spelled realization.
The dreams weren't going away. The feelings in him were getting worse. The images grew more detailed and aggressive. Sometimes, his gun was brought into things. Yes. And he still didn't have enough time to spend with her. Kira the confusing, Kira the alluring. He hadn't liked the lessons that his Sisters attended before, but now, it was a virtual prison, in his eyes.
It kept him away from his pet.
Pet. Not only a task. She had graduated from just a 'project' by this point. And so too had Yazoo, in his own way, right alongside her. It had been impossible to ignore, as the dreams had increased in frequency. His own feelings weren't getting any easier to deal with, either-he was like a hawk, always surveying the area for those who would come and try to steal his broken doll away. Before, he had been protective. But now...
He could feel it, with every new meeting shared between him and Kira, every new dream that haunted his restless nights, every instance when that idiot Brother of his came to stick his nose into places where he wasn't welcome. Whatever sort of 'relationship' he and Kira had had before, it had changed. Drastically.
Somehow, a new factor had crept into the equation, something that Yazoo hadn't realized until he'd looked down to the chain in his hands, and the hole in his chest. He could see Kira, sitting beside him on a collar, holding the beating organ in her hands...all with that gentle smile. It was a disturbing visual, but it did seem to sum things up perfectly:
Yazoo had set out to influence Kira, and raise her into something more than what she was. She was an oddity, a fun past-time, a test, to see just how far he'd come in his own skills. But in return, this strange little girl with the weird eyes and stutter, so desperate to keep things bottled up inside of her...
...had wound up influencing him, as well. And now, he had an even bigger problem to address here.
Love.
That word. Just like family, it had haunted him as soon as it had slipped into his thoughts. He couldn't drive it out, and the more he tried, the more he'd start seeing things, feeling things. Wanting things, things he couldn't have. This 'love', what a painful concept indeed! It was sheer torture, being without one's heart. And still...
He couldn't let it end like this.
It had taken a while to finally admit it: that somehow, he, Yazoo...had fallen in 'love' with a human. And not just any human, oh no. He'd fallen in 'love' with the one human he wasn't supposed to touch. The one who had gradually come to trust in him completely, through the various actions and plays he'd put into motion, just to achieve his ultimate goal: satisfaction. Answers. Closure.
His adopted Sister.
That mission of his had changed, in all these years he had known her so far...or perhaps it was just him finally coming to and getting a clue. Sometimes, the strangest people miss the strangest things. Could that apply to his situation? The only thing he was certain of, was that at some point or another during this journey, the sense of 'closure' he had been seeking had turned into a beast of a different color altogether. It was still a journey, but not one that ended once he'd gotten together all the missing pieces from Kira's past.
Now, it would end...with the broken doll by his side, never to leave. He'd grown fond of her, more than fond. It wasn't just the answers he wanted anymore. It was her.
She had done this to him, caught him in such an impossible web to free oneself from. She hadn't even known what she was doing when she'd made it; she had the grace of a creative arachnid, but not the reasoning or steady hand. At least not when it came to her reactions and words. Her emotions. All those things, they had drawn him in, until all his feelings...Yazoo had wanted them to become her feelings, too.
He loved her, as much as someone like him was capable of. Simple as that. And he wouldn't let anyone or anything get in his way. As he'd continue putting the pieces in the frame, the picture would grow clearer. Along with that...so too, would her heart's desire.
Yazoo was going to do everything in his power, to make those 'dreams' into a reality, depraved as it may've seemed. Others would never be able to understand his reasoning, but that was fine with him; he wasn't attempting to please anyone, only himself. To have someone like her, always treating him with that same softness and reverence, that kindness that he'd never thought any other could've possibly bestowed on someone like him. Like Kyra, she hadn't done a single thing to try and change who he was.
And still...he'd wound up becoming a different man, in his own way, even without a solid shove on Kira's end. He never would've seen himself like this in his youth; he'd have simply dismissed it as nonsense, rattling off his detailed but clear reasons as to why he himself would never take up with any sort of human 'lover.'
Sephiroth and Kyra notwithstanding, he hadn't had any sort of interest in it. He'd known just how many admirers and eager faces were willing to throw themselves into his arms, or his Brothers arms. But he didn't want that. It had come across as trivial reasoning; if he was going to fuck someone eventually, if only for his enjoyment, then it was damn well going to be a person who actually had half a brain in their skull, and was interested in him for reasons besides the good looks, status or abilities.
He'd wanted someone who would see beyond all of that, see him right down to the foundation. But he'd had jack shit hope in ever getting that. So, he'd either had to lower his standards...or spend the rest of eternity going solo in the sexy times department.
Then, she'd come along. And with all that had gone on between them, every feeling and memory that had been created, fostered, nurtured, savored...this was the result. Without even expecting it, he'd found someone, a being who'd almost seemed to be made just for him. Him and him alone.
Kira was quirky and missing a few parts; most of the world would've treated her as 'defective' or 'useless'. She wasn't some startlingly gorgeous model type, no matter how they were able to dress her up for the camera. She would always have the occasional awkward moment, where she'd fumble for a word, or trip on a reply. She'd have to stay on those pills for the rest of her life too, most likely. And he'd still hadn't figured out just where those scars came from. There was so much to her that was as yet a mystery to him.
However...Yazoo didn't mind.
That feeling of possession, rising deep inside him. He didn't care what anyone else thought of her. They could go take a long walk off a short pier, as far as he was concerned. All that mattered was what he had come to know, to learn, to experience...and all while in the company of this backwards navigator. How long ago had he lost control of the map? This was deeply uncharted territory he'd found himself in. Though he wasn't alone.
There was no fear here. No resistance. No second-guessing. It had been all thanks to him that Kira had turned out how she was in the present day, a right sight better than her past self. Yazoo had been proud of those accomplishments, at first...then, he'd started becoming proud of her. She was his creation, a basket of nerves with lack of faith in herself. A negative outlook, fostered by her life at the hands of monsters in human form. Multiple scars, both physical and mental, that would never fully go away. However, they had lost their power just some...when he had stepped into things.
Yazoo had never been one for sharing. This was no different. Kira was going to be his and his alone. He would take her heart, just as swiftly as she'd wound up stealing his own. His Jigsaw Girl, sending out a desperate SOS as she'd first arrived on their figurative doorstep, one that of all people, he had answered.
Him, the unknowingly lonely, adoring psychopath, who could've ended her in an instant, yet had chosen not to. Not out of pity, either. It was out of pure enchantment with her, that fascination that had become a twisted obsession. He wanted her, all of her, and he would get it no matter what it took. He had lured her this far into the darkness, and would soon have her so entangled that she wouldn't know which way was up, or down-but she'd be loving every minute of it. He guaranteed it.
And if she didn't...if she wouldn't give into him...if she never figured it out, never realized...or if she rejected him, pushing him away...if she took his heart without giving up something near and dear to her...
That low, ominous chuckling, that echoed softly through his room. Yazoo couldn't resist any longer-his hand had closed the distance, and was now wrapped around his lower appendage. It was just as stiff and ready as it had been when he'd first started this trip down memory lane. With a slow stroke upwards, he started his task of touch and surrender. He needed this. He needed some sort of escape to the tension.
And if he didn't do this now, he'd never be able to sleep...or he'd wind up 'suffering' from taunting, erotic dreams, more than usual. Today's events really wouldn't help with that, either.
There had been a presentation today, at Kyra and Kira's learning institution. One part of their secret identities, since there was always going to be that odd moment where Shinra would have to make contact with them, was to have them listed as hired help. Maids, if you preferred, to the higher levels of the company-such as the First Class SOLDIERS quarters. Shinra head Rufus had come down as well, since he was the head of the business. There had been a good amount of surveying and floor walking, to make certain that no one would attempt to come after the top dog, Mr. President himself.
Of course, Yazoo knew all of this, in rather intimate detail, even as he hadn't attended a class in his life. Why? Well, he had his reasons...one of them being that the girls had needed 'suitable' attire, in order to convey the image that they were proper housekeepers. It was a last-minute detail that had nearly been overlooked in the sudden planning of this interaction.
They were going to send Sephiroth out to fetch it, for the reason of convenience and familiarity. He knew Kyra personally, and enough about Kira to be trusted. That, and he'd been the only one available on the floor, just fresh off a mission. Impulsive though it may've been, he was someone they could count on for such a task, no matter the ridiculous nature.
Too bad somebody else had gotten wind of their plans...and beat them to the punch of relaying the news. Another chuckle in the depths of his room. With a few minor edits, of course. Sephiroth hadn't been alone in this endeavor. Unexpected company had decided to tag along-he'd had an appointment to skip, after all. Yazoo's eyes lit up with a devilish gleam at the recollection, as he gave another firm stroke.
His older Brother would've most likely picked out something sensible from one of the regular shops, something that wouldn't attract too much attention to his fiance-if he had known what it was for. Since she was going to be presenting to the class, which did have its share of impressionable horndogs, he wouldn't have given them the opportunity to cast such heated stares at his woman. Possessiveness ran in this family, that much was apparent.
But. Yazoo had never been one for 'sensible'. He much preferred getting some amusement out of things...
...which was why he'd convinced older Brother to follow him into, of all places, a sex shop. The male had been a bit wary upon entering-why the hell would Shinra want him, of all people, going out to buy lingerie for the two girls? Kyra maybe, but...what, had someone planned a questionable photo shoot? Did he need to get involved? This couldn't be right.
Just as he was about to question it, however, his younger Brother had played his trump card: flashing the maid costume in his direction, allowing him to bask in that thought: Kyra, wearing such an outfit. Even wearing such an outfit for him. For only his viewing pleasure and enjoyment.
Soon enough, they were walking out of the shop with two costumes in tow, which had been promptly handed over to Rufus before he'd set out for the presentation. It wasn't until well after he'd arrived at the school, that he'd realized just what his younger Sisters were set to be wearing. My, that must've been a fun surprise, indeed! Oh, how Yazoo wished he'd been just a little earlier in his arrival, if only to see the look on that pretty-boy's face. It was such a thrill when a good plan fell together!
"Hah..." His hand was continuing its motions, and he could feel it, building on the tip as his arousal surged forth with every slow pull. The familiar sensation of pre-cum.
He'd eventually made his way to the classroom, where his Sisters and Rufus lay. He hadn't quite been expecting the reaction that would wash over him, as soon as he'd stepped through the door, catching the first glimpse of her...dressed like that...
Kyra was attractive in her gear, if a bit squeezed. Yazoo never allowed himself to get too close with his observations, though. He knew that Sephiroth would've had a few things to 'talk about', and no thank you, that was one discussion he'd like to avoid, please. It wasn't like he had a death wish, nor did he have the same sort of attachment.
So it had been far too easy to drag his eyes over to the figure beside her...looking for all the world like a character from some of those 'special' comics they'd gotten a peek at, while investigating on one of the unoccupied computers with net access. The ones spawned from that blasted country of Wutai, once again. He'd felt the tremor surge through him, though somehow, he managed not to let it show. But it had been one of the few times when he hadn't had a quick remark or reply on hand. Just for those fleeting seconds.
Beautiful. Kira was fucking beautiful. And far too tempting...
Yazoo was starting to pant, feeling his fingers sliding over the slightly shifting, smooth skin of his cock. He'd sauntered up to the front of the class, feeding his crafted reply to Rufus while ignoring the eager gazes of the present student body, their feverish whispers. So delusional. As if he had any time to spend concerning himself with their bleak little lives. They were bleak because none of these kids were being properly raised, to have a more open, acknowledging view of the world. They just lived in their own bubbles of fantasy among high society.
His hands had found Kira before either of them had had a chance to react. She'd let out a tiny squeak of surprise-fuck, those sounds! A throaty groan from Yazoo, as his actions were steadily growing faster. He'd spun her and dipped her, in front of everyone, and then...
The blurry vision. His head was being filled with the feeling of water, washing away everything and bringing in its wake...an overwhelming adrenaline rush. That euphoria, building ecstasy down to the soul, to the center of him. He remembered the creeps in the class, who hadn't been able to do much of anything once he'd gotten involved. The arrival of Genesis, the SOLDIER who had been assigned to look over this guarding mission, and one who just conveniently happened to be quite close to Kyra-since she was already associated heavily with Shinra, and now Sephiroth. That had helped some.
But the end of the presentation, when that blue-haired behemoth with the mask fragment-really now?-to the right side of his face had come up to Kira. Started conversing with her. Had been trying-and failing, for those with heightened senses-to hide his interest in her. All while she was wearing those clothes.
A flinch, as his face scrunched tightly in displeasure. He'd gotten her away from him, holding her close as he'd led her down the hall, to the bathrooms. Away from all those prying eyes, in the room and outside. She needed to go to the bathroom and change. Change from those clothes that fit her figure so well.
Those clothes he would've killed for the chance to strip from her body.
It had been so teasing, that dirty little idea, as he'd kept up his cool outer layer, trying to drive those thoughts away. He was supposed to be guarding the rest rooms, just in case she needed his help...or someone had to pee and be redirected elsewhere. But they continued to lure him, those sheer devils slipping in and out of the holes in his brain, filling them with that want and desire. That need.
Would she ask for his help? Even if not...he could always go into the bathroom on his own volition. Find her there, in whatever state. And then...
Eventually, they'd moved on, everyone meeting together to head back to Shinra headquarters. It was the end of the day, after all. By this point, having realized that someone was playing hooky, Rufus had issued the request to Kira: to get Yazoo to his appointment without any fuss. He'd let slip that mention of how Yazoo seemed to listen to her more than anyone else. It had gone unnoticed verbally, but he could see it on her face, as she'd turned to look at him; it had had some sort of effect on her. Did it...mean something to her, to have this sway over him?
"Ngh...Kira..." Yazoo's vision was going foggier by the second, feeling his release drawing ever closer. Of course, he'd tried to convince her to let him off the hook...but it hadn't worked, even as it had provided a light flush to her features. His pout, a look that he had perfected all throughout his youth. Kira knew it well. Yet it had been completely countered, by her own kindness and tender inquiry. She had offered to go with him. She had offered to go with him.
The appointment. That damn doctor. Yazoo would not recall his name, not at this moment. He was zooming through the replay in his head, every image only serving to stoke the overload of testosterone and passion that had built up inside him. He had been assigned by the bastard mentioned before, to give a certain sort of 'lesson' to Kira dearest, a talk if you will...
...a sex talk.
His breathing was erratic by this point, his panting sometimes coming out in gasps. Low growls, groans. The feeling of so much heat and friction, even more than previously as he'd lain on his bed. It was scalding him, searing him from the inside out.
She hadn't known. She hadn't known about procreation, or babies. She'd known about periods and the basics of puberty, nothing further. Again, many thanks to the assholes who'd raised her in the first place. Shinra may've fucked with a lot of other people's lives, but certainly not to that level.
He'd been the one to explain it to her, in the best way he could...all while forcing himself to not just throw her back into the mattress, and showing her what went where. Taking her, just like he had so many times in his dreams. She had been wearing her school uniform, drinking that sweetly creamy and fizzy concoction he'd made for her, to draw her in further for the trap. It only served to bring him back to that first memory, deep within his mind.
"Kira...fuck..." Nothing else mattered anymore, in that moment. Not what had happened after the talk when a certain silver-haired pest wielding a double-bladed sword had come barging in, anyways. All he cared about, were the touches shared between him and his prey...his precious Kira.
He had kissed her. He had kissed her. It was naught but the faintest of brushes, yet it had still hit him hard and fast, a zip of electricity shooting through him at the light contact. The testosterone had been the cause of all of this excess today, but even as he'd wanted to strike his younger Brother down for slapping him away...he wouldn't have changed that moment for anything.
Someday, someday...he'd be able to taste her fully. All of her. Would she be more to savor than the drink he'd mixed? She would no longer be allowed to hide anything from him. He and he alone would know her, down to her very core. Only he would be audience to her darkest secrets.
And she, his...
"Hah...ah! Kira-!" Yazoo's body was tightening, writhing as the force of his climax shook him from top to bottom. He felt that surge, saw the blur of pleasure that marred his vision for those few moments during and following. Then, that instant feeling of full satisfaction and utterly anticipated breathless completion...
...just as a familiar, slightly warmed substance began dripping down, from the tip of his member to atop his hand.
But he did not let go, allowing his breathing to steady and the fluid to keep running down his fingers. The images were still in his head, although they were flickering, in and out of focus. He was waiting, waiting until he had finally collected his senses enough to clean up, much less let go. That one had really taken a lot out of him, and as soon as he was done washing, he'd probably be heading off to bed.
He had gotten what he'd ultimately wanted, in the long run. For now, only in his fantasies. That's how it seemed to be. For now...
Lifting his hand up to examine the results, Yazoo's gaze lingered on the slightly sticky and watery substance coating his digits. His 'feel-good juices', as he'd referred to them while explaining things to Kira earlier that day. Semen, if you wanted to be clinical; cum, if you wanted to be crude. As he brought his fingertips to his lips, to lap it all off...
...he saw her. Sitting before him. Looking up at him with those innocently wanting eyes...wanting for his approval. As she licked away his fluids from around her mouth, and upon those delicate fingers of hers.
His tongue halted then. Taking one last look at the substance, he finally let out a huff of irritated defeat, and went to go wash everything off in the shower.
Yazoo couldn't do it. Never could. He was always stopped by that arresting image now, reminding him of all the things he wanted to introduce her to...all the new experiences he wanted her to partake in. He would be her guide, through the warped and winding maze of everyday life, past trauma, and violent affection. He couldn't clean up his mess like that-not when he was so looking forward to the day that she would be doing it for him.
As he reached the bathroom, using his unstained hand to open the door, he got a look at his face, in the mirror. His long silver locks-longer than two of his Brothers, anyway-were hanging down straight, framing a sweaty, slightly flushed face. It was the most color he would ever see in his features, really, aside from his eyes. His lips were still slightly parted-a random halting breath would come up every so often, showing him just how taken he had been with his latest session.
Only during these moments. The moments he shared with his precious specter. She was the only one who got to see them with him. His Jigsaw Girl, that someday he would put back together completely...
...and then take apart, to get what he wanted. He would keep sifting through all the pieces, until he had every single one memorized and logged for his own. Not a scrap of her would escape him. He would never let her go. He would fill her with him, thoughts of him, feelings for him, lust for him. Then wait, and see, just how long it took for her to crack in a whole new way.
Oh, it sounded like so much fun. Really, it did. He'd never been in any sort of 'relationship' before, but he was certainly looking forward to the culmination of this one. When everything was said and done, he would be left with a veritable masterpiece, put together after all the painstaking work of channeling and contemplation, both in his head and his heart.
All that lovely, lovely blood. She was lying on his bed, a beautiful mess.
Shivering at his final fantasy, Yazoo stepped into the shower, ready to wash away all the stressors and stains of the day down the drain. And to return to dreams, for one more night...
...until the sun rose again, and he had another chance to be with his beloved, cracked porcelain and all.
A/N: And thus ends this sordid tale of forbidden feelings, and bitterly coming to terms w/one's humanity. Yes, the story is over. Hopefully, the ending was satisfactory. Yes, it was a bit graphic, but it was hinted at throughout the whole story. I'm just hoping it went off believably, or at least believably enough considering the character involved.
With this story completed however, the tale is not yet over. There is one other who was also involved in this truly tumultuous day, and he...has his own feelings to share on the subject. Are they the same as the ones expressed here? Maybe yes, maybe no. I plan on starting posting for it next month, so hopefully, someone out there will look forward to it.
As always, feedback is welcomed, encouraged and appreciated. Though this story didn't get much of it, I'm still grateful for what I have. And I'm always open to improving upon my work. I aim to entertain, after all. But growth is not possible w/out ups and downs. I'm open to constructive critique; all I ask is for it to be civil [i.e, nothing along the variety of "go kill yourself". That doesn't help anyone.]
Thank you all for your support. Happy holidays to you and yours.