BREATH OF LIFE
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or Tokyo Ghoul. Or the songs mentioned from this point onwards. Kudos to people who recognize the songs, though.
Shout Out:A little bit something to interrupt the monotony of the Sunday rolling around. Yep. Still not according to a timeline, but where would be the fun in that?
Warnings: AU-verse, SLASH; and semi-according to a canon. Really.
010 – Don't Cry
The scene haunted him.
The kind, gentle Father… feasting on the corpse of his best friend.
Sallow skin splattered with blood, as if he were some kind of savage.
"Join me."
Soft words with the undercurrent of poison reverberated inside his skull.
Everything he had ever believed in was false.
The scent of blood hovered in the air, heavy, sickly, potent, the wrong kind of sweet fragrance –
-how many times did they eat a soup? Made from the bones of their friends and crushes?
He remembered Maya - kind, sweet little girl who loved drawing sunflowers.
Her dream was to have her very own flower shop.
He remembered her radiant face, when she told him that she was to be adopted at Christmas.
And then, the Christmas day, she wasn't at the orphanage anymore, but the kind Father said t her new caretakers left behind a roars pork for the kids to enjoy.
It was… delicious.
His stomach clenched with revulsion, and his eyes stung.
He had cried so much, like an ocean of tears, and now his eyes were dry and itchy and his eyesight was blurred.
Those moments, when he scrambled away from the priest (- monster -) in human skin, his mind broken and his trust shattered.
"No. No, I'll never join you!"
"Oh, but you said that Maya's meat was delicious. You know, I've saved the best parts for you, Amon. Because you are such a good boy."
In that moment, he wished to be a bad boy, the worst boy in the worst, just that he didn't have the weight of guild pressing on his slender shoulders.
He backed off, to the door, and then he bolted.
Th-Thud!
Th-Thud!
Th-Thud!
His heart beat was so fast it was almost painful.
"Oh, shame, shame, Amon-kun. To think I had such big hopes for you…"
The voice behind him cooed mockingly.
It was the middle of the night, everything was sleeping like the dead (Koutarou didn't eat that soup tonight), and he was here, a fat, juicy snack for this monster of a ghoul that dared to call himself - no, itself - a humble servant of God.
He had to get away.
He had to –
Scrambling, he ran through the hallway, slivers of gray and dark flashing past his eyesight.
'Please, someone, anyone, help - !'
When he ran into something soft that emitted a startled 'oof!' at the impact.
Koutarou's blood froze in his veins.
He was doomed.
He startled out of his dream, panting and sweating, his body hurting from the impact with floor.
It took him several minutes to take the stock of his surroundings (he was safe now, safe, safe, safe, the monster was dead,) before he recognized the small room he was in.
He was in Ichigo-san's apartment.
The small bedroom was sparse with personal knick-knacks, and aside the bed and table with a chair and some books, the place was utterly unremarkable.
But the scent –
Koutarou inhaled it shakily.
The mixture of motor oil and faintest hint of lavender with the iron (sickening) note of blood –
- He had to remind himself he-was-safe –
"Koutarou?" A voice caused him to whip his head towards its source.
And there he was, spiky orange hair, dark brown eyed , clad in dark gray sleeveless shirt with black boxers, standing at the door with concerned frown on his face.
"Ichigo-san – " His voice tumbled past his lips like tiny shards of shattered glass (broken trust), as he watched the sunset-haired young man with eyes, wide with fear.
He wanted to go to him – Ichigo-san was safe, but he was also one of those flesh-eating monsters –
He unconsciously backed to the headrest, and Ichigo's face fell minutely before the oranget composed himself, giving him a small, understanding, if a little brittle smile.
"Shall I call Arima?" Ichigo's voice was soft and gentle – like father Donato's –
Ichigo didn't move from the doorstep and Koutarou was both terribly glad and disappointed.
He was safe, but he was bereft.
"No!" His mouth interrupted Ichigo's turn, causing those kind brown eyes concentrate on him again, and suddenly, Koutarou didn't care anymore.
He scrambled off the floor, practically running to his savior (damnation,) and crashed into him, small arms hugging the teen around his waist desperately.
"Oi, Koutarou - !" Ichigo's flustered voice cause Koutarou to snuggle deeper into the warmth (danger) that was the teen's body.
"Please." The boy's voice was positively tiny."
"I understand if you don't feel comfortable with me, Kou. I am one of those monsters too – "
"No!" Koutarou lifted his head, looking up into those brown (not red and black) eyes. "I know what you are! But I-I feel safe - Please…"
He hid his head against Ichigo's sternum, inhaling the strange scent of motor oil and lavender. Strong hands wrapped around his own body, causing him to involuntarily relax.
"Okay, brat. C'mere. Just for tonight, mind you." Ichigo's voice rumbled gently through his body and Koutarou pressed closer. "And don't cry."
"Ichigo? You will be late – "
Arima cut himself off at the sight that greeted his eyes.
A small boy was curled in the orange-haired's teen embrace, unconsciously nuzzling into his chest, while Ichigo laid on his back, one hand wrapped around the boy and another splayed across the bed carelessly. The sunlight was still weak enough not to wake him up, but it had been bright enough to highlight the contrast between the orange hair, the pallor of his skin and dark clothes he wore to the bed, with the hem sliding up his stomach, exposing slightly muscled stomach.
The investigator's lips twitched into a smile.
A ghoul cuddling with a human child as they slept together, unaware of the cruel world that awaited them once they opened their eyes.
If he hadn't seen in with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it.
Gently, he closed the door and resolved to call the school to excuse Ichigo for today.
/To Be Continued/
