RE-EDITED to be more visually appealing!
Hey!
Just wanted to thank every one for their feedback! (And to say that I would love to receive more... but I won't say that, because that sounds selfish...)
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XOXO
Disclaimer: I own nothing...SADface.
Because no pain in all the world could compare to this. His heart had taken all the breaks it could bear, and now? It crumpled, leaving him with nothing but an empty hole in his chest. Death would be a luxury.
Chapter 12: Day 47
"We're falling apart," Akiko whispers, blue eyes quivering, cherry lips parted.
Zero has no idea what she means at first - thinks that maybe she's still hung up on the old man and everything, which is strange considering he doesn't recall her even liking him - but then, he sees it.
There are two empty chairs today.
Two. Not one.
Class hasn't started yet - Hisao isn't there yet. But he should be.
The room is filled with hushed voices, more than glad to fill up the teachers vacant space, and they're everywhere, so Zero can't seperate one from the others. It's just a melodic cacophany of gasps and cries and pure disbelief.
He knows who the second empty chair belongs to.
But he just can't believe it.
"I really don't like this..."
"Shiki," Takuma sighs in exasperation, "We've went over this already."
And they had - multiple times.
Takuma specifically remembered telling the other vampire that yes, in fact, his turn to feed the pureblood had come about and no, he's afraid he cannot 'fuck it' (as Shiki had so elegantly put it). And lastly, no, Shiki was in no condition to be their onlooker - because one, he was still a near sickly pale, and could still hardly stand, let alone fight a crazed, bloodthirsty vampire (if it came down to that, of course) and two, none of the Night class students were very comfortable with the idea of Shiki being in the same room as the pureblood when he was drinking Takuma's blood. Something told them that the dark red-head wouldn't handle it as well as any other choice of a bystander would.
He releases his grip from the doorknob, and turns to face the maroon-haired vampire and the orange-haired girl at his side, who's hand is resting on Shiki's shoulder, rubbing in soothing circular motions.
Is it dumb that seeing it makes Takuma slightly (just slightly!) green with envy?
... Nah.
"I know," Shiki admits, begrudgingly. "It's just - why can't it be me? Why Rima?"
Takuma scoffs, eyes rolling, as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. "We've went over that, too."
"Fuck! I know! I just - fuck!" Shiki exclaims, bringing his clenched fist to his mouth, pressing it tightly against his lips, lest anything moremortifying manages to sqeeze its way out.
"You just what?" Takuma questions, eyebrows knit together in confusion.
Rima tightens her grip on his shoulder. Go on, he can practically hear her obnoxiously urging.
"Don't make me say it," Shiki quietly pleads.
It clicks - Shiki can tell. He can see the widening of the blonde noble's brilliant green eyes in understanding. He can see the twirks in the corner of the vampire's pink lips, and then the tensing that occurs in the same corners in response - obviously trying to restrain a smile... and obviously failing miserably.
Takuma emits a breathy, nervous laugh. "I'll be fine, I promise."
Shiki frowns, unconvinced.
The blonde noble's not sure how he manages to muster up the courage to do it, but he does. He's sliding effortlessly until he's in front of the frustrated vampire, feet planted, and stance uncharacteristically confident. And he's reaching out, bringing his hand to Shiki's arm, allowing his fingers to stroke the satin, ivory skin. He looks up from the appendage, eyes shining.
"I'll be fine, I promise," he repeats, but this one definitely holds more value - enough, in fact, for Shiki to huff and nod his head - hiding the grin that contagiously wants to spread from Takuma's face to his.
"A horrible misfortune, indeed. It saddens me to see not only one, but two of our loved and respected friends leave with their dreams just barely out if reach," Hisao sighs, bringing his hand to the back of his neck, and shakes his head in remorse. "I realize how terrible it is to receive such horrifying news, but I ask of you to take these losses as a reminder - as a lesson. Look around you," he outstretches his arms and raises them, parallel to the ground. "Look at each other's sorrrow and remember it - bookmark this very moment and box it away, because I assure you, your day will come. It's imminent. There will be a time when each and every one of you will have doubts and will second guess all this progress you've made. But instead of giving up, like our dearly-departed friends, you will think of this - you will see the grieving expressions - and remember just how much you mean to the people here - and not just your classmates, but to me. To the nurses and the rest of the staff."
His gray eyes are unwavering, heady and overwhelming. He's looking at all of them. He's looking at only one. He's gazing into their intermost soul. He's seeing the ashen fear covering faces. He's seeing everything.
One eye an angry red, the other a haunting blue.
"This will not happen again. You will not let this frivolous desire surpass your morality. You will not attack your nurse like Hiroki-kun did."
Hiroki, Zero realizes, shower-boy.
"You will all stay strong - for yourselves, for those around you, for those you've lost to this deadly illness called vampirism. You will remember," Hisao repeats, "And in your memories, you shall prosper."
When Zero was young, he loved pretending. Of all the games he'd ever created to compensate for those lonely days when his brother was all but tied to his sick bed, and his parents were at work, and his collarbone was still weak and healing, making his lessons with Yagari simply out of the question, this was by far his favorite. Back then, he never really could identify what it was that was so appealing about propping against a tree, closing his eyes, and thinking. Zero was no philosopher. Just like any respectable hunter child, Zero was taught to believe in the black and white - that everything was either right or it was wrong, and that was simply the way life was.
He supposes that's why he never told anyone what he did when he went out there for several hours of the long day. His family just always assumed he was napping, or he was exploring, or anything else a typical little boy would do, and he'd let them. Having his mother berate him for being lazy, having his father belittle him with his constant head shaking and disappointed sighs, hearing things like "When will he ever grow up?" - all of these were worth it. Zero would rather them continue to bounce each and every half-hearted accusation at him like he was a wall, than have them know the truth.
You see, a long, long time ago, Zero Kiryuu was a visionary. When he was alone, safe under the shade of a leafy green tree, he would reflect and remember. He would bring to mind those many lectures given to him by his sensei and relive them like the present.
He'd recall Yagari's hard, authoritative voice, "Because, Zero, they're monsters. They don't see right and wrong like you and I do."
He'd see past-him grinning slightly at the way his teacher said you and I and the false-comfort that it'd provided him with, but then his brow would furrow, and he would hesitantly mumble, "But Sensei, what if they were trying to do the right thing, and it turned out being wrong? What if they aren't trying to kill people on purpose? What if it's an accident?"
What if it's gray?
Yagari would always frown when he said something like that, and his eyes would glaze over with something Zero could never really quite put a name to. All he knew is that it looked cold - hurt, almost - and that Zero would always feel incredibly guilty afterwards, promising himself that next time he'll hold his tongue. That next time, he'll make sure his beloved teacher never looks like that again.
Zero never was able to keep his promise.
Later, he would replay the conversations in his mind, but then, they'd always end differently. At first, Zero would change his sensei's reaction. Instead of frowning, Yagari would grin proudly at his student's insight and reach his hand out, ruffling the boy's already messy silver strands. Then, Yagari would say, "You're going to make a great man someday, Zero." And that would be it.
But soon, Zero decided that that reality was selfish and unrealistic, so he then got rid of the conversations altogether, completely omitting his foolish statements about his views, and simply made himself nod in agreement to whatever Yagari had said, even though it made him feel less like himself than ever before.
Because doing the right thing was suppose to not feel good, right? It was suppose to be an act of selflessness - a sacrifice, and there's that word again!
Hisao said that by being here - that by participating in this program - they were making a 'sacrifice'.
If everything really was all clear cut right and wrong, then that must mean that by being here, they were doing the right thing, and because being here was the right thing, so was following the rules. Which would mean that disobeying the rules was wrong. That biting a nurse would be wrong. That that boy Zero had never even taken the time to learn the name of prior to his falling - in a class of fucking twenty! - was wrong.
All but the last were easy concepts to grasp. Call him naive, but Zero just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of Hiroki - not much older than his sponsor, Akiko, and that blushed red and covered his eyes just at seeing the silver-haired Level D's bare chest, and that had cried silently and secretly at his desk when Hisao had informed the members of the class that their eldest had fallen - was wrong, when everything about him screamed right.
And for the first time in years, Zero closes his eyes and lies his head down against his pillow - it's no steady trunk, but it will have to do - and he just thinks.
Perhaps his opinion was contaminated by his sympathy. Perhaps he was also wrong, himself. Or perhaps, just maybe, Yagari, Kaito, and the others were the ones that were wrong.
He thinks of Kaname, Yuuki, Aidou, Ruka, Kain, Shiki, Takuma, Rima - all of those fucking vampires he'd hated with a passion -
And for the first time in years, it's completely without malice, because, if the hunters were wrong about this, then what else?
He's in a room, only, it's nothing like the one he had fallen asleep to. This one is disconsolate - dingy tiles covering the walls, each smeared with a grimy mixture of brown and red. The scent of staleness is heavy in the air, along with the puncturing fragrance of iron rust, and Zero finds that regardless of the depth of the breaths he takes, his lungs still clench and groan in discomfort from the lack of fresh oxygen.
Below his feet, illuminated by the dim, flickering lights overhead, is a trail of dark crimson, leading all the way to the very right corner of the dreary room, seemingly neverending because it does not fade, but simply merges into the pitch black painted there.
Then, there's a noise, soft like the tingling of a bell or the fluttering of a butterfly's wings and somewhere deep down inside himself, Zero just knows it's coming from the colorless corner.
His foot moves, a twitch nearly, and he's moving towards it. Towards the sinisterly light sound, and he has absolutely no idea why. He's shifting forwards, off-balanced and precariously planted on the tip of his toe, and swings his other foot out in front to catch himself. He repeats the action with the opposite foot this time, and then another with the other, and then the other. And he's getting closer and closer, his shoes making tiny splashes in the red puddles, dripping the bright color in places where the floor is bare.
The sound stops, and the room is filled with the screaming silence.
And so does he - hesitating on the last step, peering down into the darkness, looking for it - looking for something, but the attempt achieves little.
With a gulping kind of swallow, he reaches his hand out gingerly, watching in absolute fright as it too disappears in the velvety blackness that climbs up to his slightly bent elbow. He feels nothing but cool, damp air nipping at the tiny hair stretching across his forearm. He feels -
A hand, cold and clammy, tiny like a child's, grasps tightly around his wrist, and a face arises from the oblivion, with familiar maroon eyes and chocolate curls. Tiny pink lips open, exposing sharp, pointed fangs, and the sound begins again, only this time, it's no longer a soft whisper.
It's an anguished wail.
With a start, Zero grabs the wrist of the chilled hand encircling his, and pulls, but it's to no availl - he's caught in an iron grip. He removes his palm and glances down and -
Blood. All of it. Everywhere. It's covering the hand, drenching the face, matting in it's hair. It's fucking everywhere.
And it smells fucking delicious.
It smells like pureblood.
The tiny, red lips part, flashing blood-stained teeth.
"He's coming."
"Who is?" Zero asks, but it comes out nearly unintelligible - his throat dry and scratchy with a desiring thirst.
The scarlet lips part again -
"Zero-kun."
Zero eye's snap open, and his arm shoots up, aiming a clumsy, unsupported punch at the source of the noise.
He misses.
"Zero-kun," the watery girl snaps, affronted and offended - it's obvious from the tone.
His eyes widen and focus in on the mass of blonde that's resting on the edge of his paper-thin mattress. "Akiko. Sorry, I thought you were - " he cuts off, because now that he can see her: he can see her. "A - are you crying?"
Her head shakes furiously, splattering his heated-skin with cooling droplets of her not-tears.
"What's wrong?" Zero questions, voice pinched with worry. "Why are you - wait. How. The fuck. Did you. Get in. Here?"
He throws a quick and flightly glance around his dark bedroom... this was his bedroom, right?
Akiko shakes her head again, refusing to supply him with a valid verbal response, and simply brings her trembling hand to her mouth in attempt to muffle her quiet sobs and throws herself atop his sweat-soaked figure with a plop.
Completely at loss for what to do - because Zero was pretty much shit when it came to kids, let alone crying ones - he sets his hand on her shaking back, alternating between awkward pats and rubbing jagged circles.
Zero doesn't think his sheets could be anymore drenched, but Akiko finds a way to make it possible with her still-not-tears. When she stops crying finally - only a pained hiccup every few minutes - he tries again.
"Why are you cry - "
"My door wasn't locked," she whispers, peaking up from the litmus sheets, clumps of damp hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead. "Yours wasn't either. Guess our nurses trust us..."
Kyo? Trusting him?
Hadn't he almost killed her not too long ago...?
But that's something he'll have to get back to later, because right now, the teary-eyed girl crumpled up on his chest seemed like a far more pressing matter.
"Why are you crying?" And he's beginning to feel like a broken record player.
She bites her lip and buries her head back down into his blankets. "Iwasscared," she hisses into the cotton material.
"Huh?" Zero grunts, tugging gently on a few of her curls, willing her head to lift back up.
She relents, and meets his gaze. "I was scared," she murmurs, and even though it's nearly pitch black, he's fairly certain she's blushing. "I still am."
"Of what?"
"Falling," she croaks.
"Akiko," he sighs, rubbing his forehead, "You're not gonna - "
"You would of said the same about Hiroki-kun!" she accuses.
An eye roll. "I would not - "
"Yes. You would. Everyone would. Everyone did." When he gives no response, she continues. "I was thinking about - I couldn't sleep, and I was thinking, and all of a sudden, I felt it. The aching thist. I felt it. I still feel it." She's crying again, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. "Zero-kun, I'm gonna be like them. I just know it - "
"Calm down," he says. "Not too loud, okay? You're going wake everyone up."
So she shuts her mouth, not emitting a single sound except tiny and pathetic whimpers - like a hurt puppy.
"You're hungry?" Zero reconfirms.
A nod.
He's horrible with kids, crying kids, crying adults, adults, people in general, so why is it that he knows a solution to solve one's problem? Why is it that he wantsto solve one's problem?
He lets his head fall back into his pillow. "Fuck," he moans, "Listen. Don't argue, just do exactly as I say, okay?"
Silence.
"Okay?" he repeats.
"Okay," she whispers hoarsely.
"Use mine," he orders, begrudgingly so, not the least bit thrilled by his own idea.
Her eyebrows furrow. "Your...?"
"Blood. Drink some of my blood."
"That's interesting," Kaname murmurs, removing his lips from Takuma's tiny wound with a quirked smile - an odd image indeed.
Takuma blinks, and pulls his arm back, rubbing the tiny smears of red on the opposite sleeve of his sleep shirt in attempts to clean the cut. Vampires hadn't been known to get many diseases or infections, but Takuma sure as hell wasn't going to take any chances. Though, he doubts that simply wiping off the blood would do him much good in his efforts anyway...
"What is?" the blonde noble questions skeptically, expression wary.
"That Senri-kun was that upset over this," he chuckles bitterly. "I find it interesting."
"That's not - " your business, he starts to say, but then he remembers. A long time ago - never had a month and a half seemed longer - Takuma might have disclosed the entire situation to the pureblood. Kaname was one of his dearest friends, after all. But now?
Things just weren't the same.
Still, his heart squeezes in remorse when he sees the dejected pain that flits briefly across the vampire prince's face before it's quickly hidden by his mask of indifference, and he is once again the stunning example of regal supremacy, even is his disheveled state.
"Of course," Kaname states coolly, wine-colored orbs blank and muted. "Forgive me for intruding."
"Uhhh..."
Thankfully, Akiko's eyes are stunned to the point of finally being tearless, and Zero no longer has to awkwardly stare into her sorrowful expression. However, he will admit that bemusement was not a good look for her. The near-popping, wide-eyed way she regarded him was far from attractive.
"Excuse me?" she says, and it's better than her first attempt at responding - he'll give her that.
Zero shakes his head incredulously, and brings his hands, palms-touching, to his nose, hooking his thumbs under his chin. "My blood," he hisses. "Now fucking hurry before I change my mind!"
And he's being completely honest, because he will change his mind - he's already just about there. Muscles tensed, feet planted - he's ready to bolt from the room with even the slightest movement from the girl he's pretty sure weighs a hundred pounds less than him and looks like a fucking porcelain doll, golden ringlets and all.
Yeah, the prospect of sharing his blood scares him that much.
He knows it's irrational - well, actually no, not really... hypocritical? Yes, that's it. It's hypocritical, considering all the times he's taken someone else's blood - Yuuki... Kaname...
Very hypocritical. But he just can't help it, because everytime he even begins to remotely picture the situation that is about to occur, he imagines those rose red lips on his neck, stained with the blood of his loved ones, and the flicking tongue that licks at his skin like a fucking satisfied kitten, and the razor-point fangs that sink in after, invading like the sharp cold of the winter breeze that peirces viciously through his clothes and sends shivers up and down his spine.
Even though he knows it will be Akiko, he'll see her.
Then again, maybe she won't even agree -
"Okay," Akiko whispers hesitantly. "Where?"
Well, fuck, Zero's mentally screaming, because now, there's no way in hell he can turn back. Now, he's fucking stuck.
"Uhh, wherever's the easiest, I guess..."
She nods, and wastes no time, gingerly grabbing his shirt, fisting the material into her tiny fist, and pulling him forward. He leans towards her, so that his neck is about level with her head, and she immediately draws back.
"What are you doing?" she asks, mouth twisted and cheeks red.
"I was - I thought - I'm giving you my blood, dammit! Isn't that what's going on here?" he exclaims dumbly, and he's already beginning to blush, too, at her reaction.
Her nose wrinkles, and she peers at him oddly. "From your neck?"
He swallows. "Yes...?"
Akiko's eyebrows raise. "Really?"
"Yes - err - fuck!" he stutters. "I don't care where, just get it over with already!"
With one last puzzled frown, she does - Akiko reaches for his arm and grasps it, bringing his wrist up to her lips, and - a yelp from Zero when she rolls her tongue out and wets a strip of his ivory skin in one quick lick - slices the flesh with a flick of her fingernail. It's a practiced and fluid series of actions that tells the hunter that she's obviously done this a lot.
Surprisingly, his knowledge of her expertise does little to calm him. Frankly, he feels worse.
Akiko's mouth attaches on to the tiny cut, lips completely covering it, not even allowing a single drop to escape, and sucking so softly that Zero can hardly remember she's there at all. It's not exactly pleasant, but it certainly doesn't hurt. It's far different from the other 'bite' (of course, Akiko hadn't bitten him, but still...) he'd experienced. It's actually kind of soothing, almost. To be able to feel the warmth of another body. To know that he's not alone. He could almost lie back and pretend that this isn't happening to him - that none of this is. That he was back at the Academy, and Yuuki was human, and had fallen asleep on the couch, like she always does, and he's sitting beside her, stroking her hair, or simply ghosting his fingers across her palm even.
Or he could almost pretend something else - this one's quite odd, and he's not sure where it even originated from (actually, he does... he's just is a bit reluctant to admit it...), but he's clutching the crinkled fabric of a dress shirt, and is resting his nose in the hollow of someone's throat, sniffing the fragrance the soft skin emits. He's licking his lips clean of a thick, sweet red liquid, body and head heavy with absolute warmth that he just wants to completely sink into and never leave -
So he does.
It's the first sleep he has that isn't plagued by blood, sobs, or dark corners.