Disclaimer: I own nothing. But I will do... MWAHAHAHHAHA... sorry, bit carried away...
Chapter 9
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good,
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood,
The stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till now on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, n the stroke of midnight
The tip of one finger touched it!
The trigger at least was hers.
Time was ticking by excruciatingly. She couldn't say that it was slowly because fear was lining the pit of her stomach and the tension was twisting and eating away at it. Every second that passed she knew, brought him at least a step closer to death and he didn't even realize it. Haruhi began to lose her composure for what was it? The third or forth time that day? Her entire body racked with silent sobs and exhaustion; it ached for sleep but her mind would not surrender.
Haruhi mindlessly twisted her hands behind her slender back which was beginning to slump with weariness. Her delicate wrists were chaffing severely against the rope. The knots would not budge from her wrists. The brown-eyed girl gasped in the darkness as the rope broke through the raw skin of her lower arms. She heard rather than saw the three soldiers whip their heads around; the quiet crack of Mori's strained neck, the swish of Kaoru's fiery hair and the deep silent concern emanating from Honey's chocolate eyes coursed through her. She waited motionless and silent as the dead until their concern began to ebb and they resumed their duties.
As soon as their heads were turned, she quickly began to stretch her fingers again until she felt warm blood seeping over the pale digits from the open wounds. Haruhi pursed her lips and bit back a moan of pain at the friction of the rope on her bleeding cuts.
Kyoya sighed nonchalantly, reached into his coat pocket and fished around for the ring box there. He held his breath and his heart stopped in his chest when he couldn't feel it at first, but he exhaled deeply when he found it hidden amongst the supple velvet lining. He grasped it between his fingers before turning to his, now almost invisible, horse. The fine animal blinked it's wide eyes at the sudden stop and again as Kyoya petted it's neck. The horse whinnied softly to him, the warm air rising visibly into the sky, and pushed it's yielding muzzle into the other gloved chuckled and murmured to himself that he was becoming far too soft for a Shadow King.
Looping the reins over the horse's head and ears, the Shadow King then began to fumble with his left foot for his stirrup in the eerie moonlight which was only just peering between the grey clouds that hung like curtains in front of it.
He eventually triumphed and mounted, swinging his right leg in a smooth arc over the saddle and landing lightly. He organised himself, retaining the box in his hand the whole time, and urged his horse into a light trot. An invitation for warmth to re-enter both of their bodies.
By the time he and the his horse were sufficiently warmed both were beginning to pant and succumb to exhaustion. More than once Kyoya nearly fell out of the saddle, but he was born to ride and stabilised himself by instinct; even when more than half asleep. Only the thought of Haruhi at the end of his journey, and a promise he had yet to keep, kept him driven.
King Tamaki was restless; he had returned to his chambers not an hour before and fled with youthful abandon to his window which he flung open recklessly. The wind made the curtains billow up around him, shimmering gently in the moon's shine. His blond locks joined in; moonlight dancing with the curtains in a mad frenzy across his forehead and bright amethyst eyes. The sides of his lips peaked upwards into an evil smile; parting slightly to reveal white teeth that glimmered in the ghost-light; his usually playful expression and glittering eyes replaced with a murderous intent.
He strolled over to the corner of his broad room and dragged an intricately designed chair to the window. He pulled some of the sheets from his bed and rapped them around himself before curling up on the obviously oversized chair. The King waited eagerly and silently - aside from his manic, excited breathing - in the ever-cooling breeze of his window. He daydreamed about the sound of shots wringing out and the startled death cries as Kyoya toppled from his horse's back. His last whimpers echoing into the night as he lay bleeding helplessly on the highway. And with these satisfactory thoughts and the now frosty air whipping his face - which at any other point would have been considered uncomfortable - he began to drift slowly into slumber.
It was Kaoru's turn to check that the hyperactive tranny was still asleep in the kitchen chair downstairs. He rose quietly and tiptoed towards the door. It creaked open at his gentle pull; resisting only momentarily as though it too, was fatigued. He turned his head slightly so he could see Haruhi in the obscured light seeping into the small room; he saw her small figure silhouetted against the window, she was hunched over slightly and he could see the occasional tear drip down her cheeks. He sighed quietly as he turned his head forward again and stepped through the doorway. Kaoru shut the door swiftly and pressed his forehead to the closed door, as though he could send her soothing thoughts from his mind. Although he knew the attempt was futile and the effort wasted.
Exhaustion crawled it's way up his legs. Pulling him down, urging him to lie and rest his eyes. Nonetheless he staggered on down the hall and the small staircase; clutching the rope-banister firmly in his grasp so as to keep himself from tumbling.
The light from the kitchen fire made the corner at the bottom of the stairs, where you turned into the warmly lit room, seemingly crackle with the flames. They climbed their hellish way up the dark wooden walls so that when he stepped into the light he blackened the staircase.
The tranny was as they had left him; he was out-cold. His brunette locks fell about his face, moving with his reaming eyelids and faint breath. The dress he donned lay about him unflatteringly. After living with his mother - a seamstress - for so many years, had given him an eye for this kind of thing. Kaoru couldn't help to not only titter quietly about the workmanship and design but also took a brief moment to consider improvements. The dress could be brought up to style if some of the layers were pinned up around the bust and if it was tightened at the waist; it would also help give the tranny a distinctly more desirable figure.
The redhead hurriedly stepped towards the fire, covering the unwanted ground in less than a few long strides. Stretching his hands towards the fire, he began to warm them. The welcome heat crept through his hands, up his arms and spread itself around his body. Kaoru sighed in contented relief from the bitterly cold air that hung in the tranny's beloved daughter's bedroom from having the casement open for too long.
Kaoru gave himself a maximum of two minutes by the red flames before he forced himself to stand and head back to the stairs. The youngest soldier walked with a slouched posture back to Haruhi's room - figuring that there was no-one here to care anyway. However when he put his ghostly hand on Haruhi's door handle Kaoru straightened himself up proper, and flicked his fiery red hair away from his face before entering.
As he stepped into the room, and uncontrollable shiver ran down Kaoru's spine. His teeth desired to chatter, but he denied them. He looked towards Haruhi, her arms were bare in the piercing cold, and she was shaking horribly. Although Kaoru failed to tell if it was from the cold, the crying, or both.
Kaoru strode over to the cupboard in the corner of the room and pulled it open. He fumbled for something warm to put on Haruhi for a long minute. Then something yielded to his touch; soft and warm in the dark abyss. e gave it a yank out of the closet and it slid out easily. He held the thing up; it took on a rectangular shape. It as a towel, white in colour and made of a soft cotton material. Kaoru sniffed it, it smelt clean, and so the red-head nodded in approval to himself. The moon appeared from it's dark realm and lit up the room as Kaoru turned around. He was holding the towel against his face - relishing on the comfort of it. He opened his eyes to see Mori, Honey and Haruhi peering at him strangely.
Kaoru's cheeks flared to match his hair, and he hastily brought the towel from his face - embarrassed. The two older soldiers kept exchanging questioning glances before looking back to Kaoru. Even Mori's usual stoic expression betrayed him. It showed a look of slight shock, confusion, and a noticeable new awkwardness. Kaoru prayed silently for the darkness to descend upon them again, but no such luck came. So Kaoru turned to Haruhi, deciding to finish what he started. He offered her a sheepish smile. At this Haruhi turned her head away from him and faced the moon outside of the casement.
Kaoru sighed deeply and his shoulders heaved with the breath. He strode over to Haruhi and covered her gently with the towel. Surprise registered in her eyes, but she refused to acknowledge him further. In a final futile attempt, the dismissed and torn boy let his lips ghost over her freezing cheek. He hesitated there for a long moment before pulling away. When she didn't look at him, he returned to his post by the casement the brown haired girl was staring out of - gun at the ready.
The ostler crouched in the darkness, behind the stable door as he had been when he had first seen Kyoya. A musty smell drenched him all over, wafting soundlessly to his nostrils from the hay. Hikaru was quickly becoming proud of his patience; despite the excitement and tension building in and around him, the boy with the face of dust was seemingly calm on the outside.
The ostler became aware of a new presence at Haruhi's casement. He peered through the dark, and was able to faintly make out his 'twin brother' by the white moon that sailed on the grey clouds. There was nothing between them any more, where they used to be so close was just an empty gap for Hikaru. Kaoru had tried to write to him multiple times, to get them talking again, but Hikaru was disinterested. He had shut the door on his old life now, and he felt disinclined to let it creep back in through Kaoru.
He noticed the glint of the blade suspended above Kaoru's gun in the moonlight. Hikaru knew that his twin had also changed massively in the time they had been apart; however the younger had withheld his child-like dreams and old loves he had once had were dear to his heart - and the ostler knew that without a doubt he was there, as his brother and childhood companion. Then his thoughts moved back to the musket that Kaoru held at the ready.
'How many people have you callously murdered with that Kaoru?' Hikaru wondered, but he shrugged off the thought immediately, deciding that he really didn't want to know.
Haruhi welcomed the warmth of the towel draped across her bare shoulders and arms, but that was all. It offered nothing else to her; no comfort, no security, nothing.
I AM SO SO SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN AGES. AND I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS CHAPTER STILL ISN'T DONE, BUT I HAVE HONESTLY HIT A MIND BLANK :/ So I will try to update as soon as possible, but I do apologise if it's slow-going. Anyway, please review, with constructive criticism and ideas :D xxx
