Demon
Chapter 15
Sendoh sat on his futon and tried to listen to his sword. He didn't move. He closed his eyes. Breathed. Concentrated. Waited. An hour. Two hours.
Rukawa ran through his mind. The feel of him. The taste. That unbelievable moment when he'd finally given in to his desires. How he had whirled Sendoh into an inelegant, hungry mess with one casual release of his inhibitions.
Sendoh took a long breath. It was already late and he needed to concentrate. But the Rukawa in his thoughts was impossible to ignore.
He sighed. Shook his head. The sword. The damn sword. He needed to achieve this.
He tried again to concentrate. Time passed. The room was already dark and sleepy and numbing, the lanterns burning lower and lower. The night. He hadn't hunted in days, yet somehow he felt utterly exhausted. His eyes were heavy, his body so... tired...
A quiet noise startled him from his doze. He sat straighter, noticing that the lanterns had gutted out and the room around him was almost pitch black. The soft sound of the door sliding closed, the warm drag of the wooden frame, filled his ears.
Innocence's blade rested limp in his lap. He set her aside.
"Kaede?"
He squinted. He could just about make out his outline, elegant and poised as he knelt silently by the door he had just closed. His head was bowed, his eyes fixed on the dark floor.
Sendoh immediately crawled over to the closest lantern to re-light it, bringing the soothing flicker of the flames back to the room. Shadows sprung up around them. Kaede's skin took on the warm orange glow of the fire light.
Sendoh stared at him. He was dressed in a plain blue robe, a white sash tight around his waist, simple and clean. His sword lay on the ground beside him, parallel to his thigh. He never went anywhere without it. His eyes were lowered, secretive behind his fringe. His hair a little damp with bathing.
Sendoh stared for a moment. Bathing? In the middle of the night?
Rukawa seemed to be in a strange mood. Tension surrounded him as he sat silent and unmoving. Moments passed but he made no indication of why he was there.
Sendoh grew concerned, memories of their disagreement resurfacing in his mind. "Are you... okay?" he asked. "Can't sleep?"
Rukawa took a visible breath.
"What you said..." he began, stopped, and fell back into silence.
Sendoh frowned. He retook his seat, kneeling by the futon. It seemed that he had invaded Rukawa's mental space much the way Rukawa had invaded his. Still he worried that he'd perhaps really hurt him. Pushed him too far.
Rukawa visibly shook himself, still not looking up. "What... you said..." he repeated, swallowed, and lifted his eyes, "...like you can remember being... something whole."
That? Sendoh was surprised. That was what was on his mind? He had been so sure it would be about Sakuragi again. But he only nodded silently and waited. Rukawa's eyes turned to fix on him, seeming to plead for understanding, but Sendoh could not guess what he was trying to communicate. He could only fix his face into what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
Unhappily, Rukawa dropped his eyes again. "I..." his fingers curled where they rested on top of his thighs. "...I want to... feel like that," he admitted.
Sendoh's brows rose in surprise.
"Can you..." Rukawa continued, forcing the words out before he lost his momentum, "...I want to..."
His lips continued to move as if he were speaking, but there was silence. No words sounded. Sendoh knew he could do nothing but wait, though he leaned forward a little.
"I want to..." Rukawa took a breath, "...feel innocent again."
His utterance faded into silence. Sendoh didn't react at once. Such a strange confession. Something small and precious that he had kept hidden, obscured behind violence and coldness and regrets far beyond proportion.
Though it seemed a small and simple plea, it was, Sendoh realised, more precious than that. A small piece of truth. A tiny glimpse of his vulnerable soul.
Rukawa remained kneeling, silent and nervous, just waiting for Sendoh's response.
Sendoh did not know how to react.
Innocent...?
His eyes dropped to the futon. What was Rukawa asking of him? What was he supposed to do about... that?
He wet his lips.
They seemed to him to be mirrors; their feelings oddly aligned. They were both stained and bloodied. Both broken and blackened. And Rukawa was... connected to him, somehow. Fates intertwined.
But... Innocence? What... was that? How could it be defined? Shown?
Sendoh was no way certain.
I know what I want to do. I want to love him. I want to be... a part of him. Be with him. Be as close as my pathetic physicality will allow.
But...
...is that… really okay?
Wouldn't that be unwelcome to him?
After what Sakuragi did, I am afraid to hurt him.
But this is how he makes me feel. It is only honesty on my part. There should be no shame in loving him. There's nothing wicked about my intentions. Surely...
...this thing - this love I carry for him - is something...
...pure?
Something innocent?
But do my good intentions really make it right?
It was impossible to know. He shook his head in frustration. Wasn't it obvious?
I should just ask him.
"Kaede?"
Rukawa lifted his eyes.
Sendoh took a breath. "Truthfully, what I want is to... make love to you or..." he swallowed briefly as Rukawa's expression remained perfectly blank, "...receive your love if that's what you prefer. Either way I... I want to... share myself with you. Do you perhaps... also... want that?"
Rukawa's eyes closed as he breathed. He tilted his head slightly. "Yes," he admitted. His voice low and a little relieved. "Please. Yes."
Sendoh barely knew how to react. Inside him, a sudden swell of emotions began to war for dominance. He did not know how to feel. He was happy, yes. But there were other things too, less welcome. Anxiety. Doubt. He took a breath. He wondered if Rukawa had meant right now.
Rukawa did not speak, but he leaned forward and lifted two hands to begin untying the knot in his sash. His meaning was unmistakable. Sendoh watched him silently, and saw that his hands were shaking.
He is afraid, Sendoh realised in astonishment.
He, who always appeared so completely and perfectly controlled. Who Sendoh had seen face down terrible adversaries without fear. Yet in this room, facing nothing but Sendoh and the shadows of his own past, he was trembling. Sendoh felt his own heartbeat speeding up to a rapid staccato. But in all honesty, he realised, so am I.
I am terrified of hurting him.
Of this happening.
I have no idea how it will go. What he will feel. Whether he will understand.
He watched as the fabric of Rukawa's robe parted, slipping from one shoulder. Rukawa pulled the sash free and with his long fingers folded it neatly into a square and placed it carefully by his sword. Then he stopped, as if waiting for something, uncertain what to do next.
"Perhaps you should come closer," Sendoh suggested, his throat dry.
Kaede gave a small nod, his eyes on the floor, and rose gracefully to his feet, the hem of his robe dragging against the ground as he came towards the futon. His feet were bare, pale and elegant as a dancer as he walked, placing each carefully before the other upon the tatami mats. With every step the robe slipped down his skin.
With the last step the blue robe dropped fully to the floor and he stood bare, slender and willowy. Skin like snow, and eyes like fire.
He was extraordinary.
Sendoh was caught for a moment only gazing up at him, his pupils wide in the dim light, as if seeking to draw him in through the doors of his eyes.
When Sendoh did not move, Rukawa stepped lightly onto the futon, the sheet twisting under the sole of his foot. He lowered himself to his knees directly in front of Sendoh so that they were eye to eye, his nakedness conflicting with Sendoh's clothed state. Rukawa leaned forward, rising partly to his knees, placing one hand onto Sendoh's thigh, and bringing his bare collar, neck and shoulders close so that Sendoh's breath caught. Rukawa's light weight pressed down on him as his other hand moved around Sendoh's waist, pulling apart the knot of his sash impatiently, and then pushing fabric away from his shoulders, revealing his tan, masculine lines and hard body, sculpted with muscle, powerful and strong.
Rukawa's tongue flickered subconsciously over his upper lip.
Unable to resist, Sendoh's arms went around him, one at his waist feeling the indescribable smoothness of his bare skin, the other reaching up gently into his hair, tipping him further forward into a kiss. Rukawa closed his eyes and allowed himself to be held.
Sendoh pressed him deeper, and their tongues met hungrily.
Sendoh groaned quietly as they sunk into one another, fitting perfectly. His whole body seemed to thrum with magnetic energy. Rigid and quivering with desire.
They kissed as Rukawa pushed away the last of Sendoh's clothes, the fingers of his hand still tight on top of Sendoh's thigh, the tips of his nails pressing into the skin like he was clinging on tight.
Once Sendoh was fully undressed, he broke away from Rukawa's shimmering lips and gazed at him dazedly.
"I've never done this before..." Sendoh admitted. Rukawa did not react, watching him, his cheeks a little flushed. There seemed to Sendoh to be so much skin, the two of them naked and lit by the flickers of the lantern. Soft, like silk, the parts of them usually secreted behind their clothes. Heat, friendly and comforting, radiated from each of them. It seemed a very natural, very human state to be in.
"Have... have you?" Sendoh asked him uncertainly. "Made love, I mean."
Rukawa was silent for a long moment. But eventually he shook his head.
Sendoh could not help but smile. "Then..." he suggested softly, "…let's go slowly. Okay?"
"...okay..." Rukawa agreed, but his voice was low and tempestuous and it didn't sound like he intended to do anything of the sort.
Sendoh leaned in closer and brushed against his lips with a gentle smile, his eyes soft.
They drew together, with a tender shift of their embrace. All skin and gentleness. Rukawa closed his eyes and surrendered to Sendoh's lead. Sendoh's lips trailed across his collarbone teasingly until Rukawa's head lolled back with a pleasant sigh, his angles softening, all his strength coming quietly undone.
Sendoh held back as much as he could, which was difficult considering the way Rukawa looked at that moment; the arch of his neck, the willing openness of his body.
His kisses drew a soft moan from Rukawa's throat and Sendoh felt himself react strongly, with a powerful clench in his gut. But he forced himself to breathe, go slowly, remain steady. His hands ran soothingly over his arms, taking hold of his shoulders, guiding him back against the sheets.
Though he tolerated Sendoh's carefulness, Rukawa's motions held a more reckless momentum, as if speed could force him through his barriers, as if he sought to pull Sendoh along with him into chaos. He seemed eager to push onwards, keen not to think too much or look too closely at what they were doing, even while Sendoh was doing the opposite and struggling to hold them back.
Sendoh leaned over him, pinning him gently, putting their lips together, and kissing him in an attempt to slow himself down. But it was hard when Rukawa's lips parted for him, drawing him under, long and deep until they were both breathless. Rukawa's hands wandered across his back, a rapid draw of tantalising fingers that raised shivers over his skin. Sendoh teased him slowly back with lips that whispered an adoration of kisses against his mouth, willing him to slow, to feel, even if only a fragment of what Sendoh was feeling for him.
But Rukawa did not intend to slow. He lifted one knee, setting his foot flat against the futon, laying his thigh comfortably against Sendoh's side, turning his body into him, bringing them into a flusher contact so that Sendoh could feel them pressing against one another at a hundred points, and at every place it was like fire was trying to burn its way through his self-control and out of his body. Desperate and hungry and dangerous. Still, he held it back.
I won't hurt you, Kaede.
He trailed his fingers down Rukawa's side instead, feeling him squirm a little at the ticklish sensation. Kissing his neck in apology, he brought his hands down to his hips and then hesitated.
"Kaede?" he spoke into the hollow of his neck.
"Hm?" Fingers knotted their way into Sendoh's hair.
"Are you... sure?"
A confused silence lasted a moment, before Rukawa nodded. "Yes."
"This is... I mean... do you really... want this...?"
The fingers in his hair tightened. "Yes."
"If you... want to stop... you'll tell me, right?"
Another silence followed. "Yes."
Sendoh could feel the heady pulse in Rukawa's neck against his lips.
"Promise?"
The fingers tugged at his hair, pulling Sendoh away so that their eyes could meet and Sendoh found himself facing down the sheer strength of Rukawa's resolve. He could barely meet his eyes at that moment; dark and burning and ancient. "I promise."
Sendoh managed to smile down at him. "Okay. Just... don't forget."
Rukawa stared at the ceiling and waited for the pain. That was why he had come here. To this room. This night. His guilt at being weak before his desires mitigated by the thought that it would... hurt.
He could remember it; a searing agony. When he glanced down at himself he saw a canvas, white and unmarked. Fresh. Ready for the patterns of pain to rise upon it in sharp spirals. Make it resemble more accurately what he was. Broken, twisted, wretched thing. Penance for all his uncountable sins.
So he rested on the sheets and waited. Laid out like a sacrifice. Beautiful, perhaps. But he was black inside.
At each brush of fingers he imaged Sendoh's nails were knives drawing blood by his touch, and he shivered with anticipation.
He could feel the blackness moving, like a living thing. Snaking through the air in the room, around his mind, polluting and noxious. The pain, he thought, would drive it out. If he could let himself break under Sendoh's power. Crack and fragment, and cut the sin out of his soul as if Sendoh were a knife. Be free of its weight, momentarily, if only in a state of agony. That. The pain, tearing and terrible yet cleansing. He waited for that.
But.
But somehow it wasn't quite as he had expected. Sendoh's fingers pressed firmly into his skin like he were clay and Sendoh the artist moulding him into some new form. Sealing the cracks in him, working his way over him, his fingers against his body pressing, shaping, changing.
Even the sensation of being filled, stretched, and violated was different. He could remember the shame and tears and despair as his pride was ground down like chalk under Sakuragi's heel. But it was not at all like that. Sendoh's touch was gentle and soothing. More like nurture than a knife.
And the pain..?
The pain was nothing. Discomfort, perhaps. A little strange, the sensation. But pain, no. Hardly that. Not like he remembered. Not like he'd wanted.
Even as Sendoh entered him fully, joining them completely, stretching him beyond the meagre width of his fingers, the slide was smooth, almost without resistance at all, like he was slipping into a shoe of custom fit. The breath on Rukawa's lips stilled in disbelief. He closed his eyes, gasped, moaned quietly.
And good. Good. It felt good. Like all his parts were being drawn together into one intense wholeness. Like Rukawa was for that moment something... real.
He had thought it impossible that he should feel this. He was broken, wasn't he? Hadn't his ability to feel... this... been obliterated? Then why had Sendoh been able to coax him to this place, into the realm of flesh and pleasure, so easily? It had taken next to nothing, he thought, to bring him here. To pull him to the point where he was losing himself to the ecstasy of his body. His mind had tried to deny this for so long, frightened to discover that he had lost the ability to feel, to love, to be alive. And now he was helpless to his own pleasure. Gasping and moaning and chanting Akira's name softly, not even feeling any shame at his desperation, the sweat of his skin, the arch of his back, his open hunger.
If this was a game, he had lost it. But he didn't seem to care. He only offered himself more, his body moving instinctively to feed itself, soaking in its own desires, silently begging Sendoh to go harder, go deeper, knowing he was rushing upon an edge, and eager to throw himself from those dizzying heights.
"Kaede-" Sendoh's breath was soon ragged in his ear. "I- I-"
It was too much.
The sounds became meaningless. Rukawa's fingers twisted in his hair, his toes curling, his whole body stretching wide and pulsing beyond his control.
He lost contact with reality even as Sendoh was whispering breathy adoration into his ear. There was all at once no futon at his back, no lanterns, no old house and musty smells of damp. No rumpled clothes or discarded swords. Nothing but Sendoh Akira and Sendoh Akira and oh- oh-
ohhhh.
Flying, for a few precious seconds, drifting weightless and free within the air of his own mind, and the limited reach of his body.
Then they tumbled down together, holding one another as they spiralled downwards, and Rukawa had only the vague and useless thought of wishing that his wings were still soft enough to embrace him as they fell.
Slowly, all around them, the room returned.
They lay panting, their breathing unnaturally loud in the empty silence of the sleeping house.
Rukawa turned his face into the slick and sticky skin of Sendoh's shoulder, enjoying Sendoh's weight pinning him down. All skin and sweat and love.
Finally he felt Sendoh's fingers moving in his hair.
"Are you all right?" he was asked once again.
A smirk of amusement flickered at the corner of Rukawa's lip. "Yes," he whispered back.
They rested for a while.
Sendoh drifted in and out of a doze, his palms resting possessively on Rukawa's bare skin. His leg. Perhaps his arm. It didn't make any difference. Neither asleep nor awake, but aware of him there, attuned to the sound of his breath, knowing and seeking and wanting even now.
Rukawa, ankles tangled up with Sendoh's, lay awake and silent, watching him quietly, his cheek pressed to the bed, his body resting heavy, front down against the futon. Though he felt sated and relaxed, somehow he didn't want to sleep.
Instead he watched Sendoh, reaching out with one tentative hand to brush his shoulder, his arm, trying to ground himself in reality. Looking into Sendoh's sleeping face, tracing the fading lines of sweat, the vague flicker of his smile, the shape of his existence.
Something stung in his soul as he recalled the fireworks they'd sat and watched together; Sendoh's words to him, his belief in him.
The irony hurt.
How could it be that though they were both unable to love themselves, they could love one another? What did it mean? Would it be... enough?
Rukawa knew he had found reason to exist. Everything he'd thought he was fighting for has been turned around, unrecognisable. All he could see was Sendoh Akira.
One fragile moment of perfection. A tiny sliver of happiness.
How beautiful it was. And how much it hurt to know the truth.
For in the end, it was undeniable, unavoidable, and true.
Sendoh Akira was going to die.
If not now, eventually. Inevitably. No matter what. And either Rukawa would be left alone in his agony, or he could pray to any god that still cared that by some miracle he might die too.
Seeing Sendoh's transience so clearly, his youthful strong body resting against the sheets, made Rukawa realise it more strongly than ever. That he was not blessed with endless life, but cursed to endure a never-ending death. And to go back to what he had been before, wholly without meaning... he could not accept it. To be without Sendoh was simply to not be.
And yet, to die. Such a thing should not be so hard.
Perhaps if he could goad Sakuragi into taking the soul out of his body...?
He let out an inaudible sigh.
No. Impossible. Sakuragi would never be so merciful as that.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
He became aware of Sendoh stirring, drifting once again close to waking, enough that his eyes fluttered open to see Rukawa there, watching quietly, and Sendoh smiled at him.
"Tell me something," Sendoh mumbled hazily, seeing that he was still awake, lifting his hand to run his fingers lightly over the bare skin of Rukawa's back.
He looked so magnificent in the lantern light that Rukawa couldn't turn his eyes away. He remained magnetic even in rest. The curve of his arms, shoulders, the shape of the muscle in his chest, his stomach, his thighs. Rukawa's body felt eager to feel his touch; his skin prickling with want.
As if sensing his need, Sendoh's fingers continued to stroke him gently, brushing, adoring, sliding over him like silk. Wondering how there was not a single mark on Rukawa's porcelain skin. And at every place he touched, Rukawa felt warm and soothed and contented.
Rukawa's eyes watched him quietly, expectantly. Dark behind the fall of his fringe. Half-lidded and seductive.
Sendoh wondered if he could be driven into madness by this. It was like having a god twisted in his sheets. Powerful and tempestuous. This utterly gorgeous thing. Half angel, half demon.
No wonder, Sendoh thought abruptly, Sakuragi Hanamichi was so infatuated with him.
"Tell you what?"
Rukawa's voice brought him back to the present moment. Running smooth over his senses like silk.
"Tell me..." Sendoh shuffled closer to press his lips against Rukawa's back, dragging soft kisses over his skin, adoring him helplessly, "...everything. About you. Everything."
A quiet rush of air escaped Rukawa that might have been amusement. "Impossible," he replied. "What do you want to know?"
Sendoh drew back to inspect Rukawa's back curiously. He ran his fingers over the expanse of skin, feeling his ribs, spine, touching the place he thought those wings ought to be. "First… where do your wings go when you close them? There's nothing here."
"That's your question?" Rukawa pursed his lips slightly, appearing amused. "I don't know," he answered carelessly and turned his head away. Sendoh eyed the exposed length of his neck for a moment before leaning in to put his teeth against it. He caught the skin in his bite and suckled on it.
"It takes effort" Rukawa explained, his voice fracturing as Sendoh teased at his neck, "to... ah... maintain them in this realm. This form is… mmmm… more natural here…" his fingers curled in the sheets, and he tilted his head further, offering more of his neck to Sendoh to mark.
Sendoh accepted the invitation, bringing himself closer, letting his hands move soothingly over him, running irresistibly over his back, his sides. Rukawa's acceptance of his touch was casual and easy. As if they'd done this a thousand times before. As if this state were very natural to both of them.
Sendoh lifted himself from the bed and moved back on top of him, unable to resist the temptation. Rukawa parted his thighs willingly as Sendoh positioned himself between them, arousal pressing against his skin. Rukawa sent a warm and expectant look over his shoulder, pressing back in invitation.
"Next question; how old are you?" Sendoh asked as he pushed his way gently back into Rukawa's body, feeling him give way easily before his motion, already slick and slippery with their earlier joining.
There was no immediate response. A soft moan of pleasure, and Rukawa's hands twisting the fabric of the bed, clinging on tightly as Sendoh filled him.
Drawing back and pushing in, Rukawa's knees shifting on the sheets.
"Kaede?"
"Uh..." his breath came in pants, without answer.
"How old are you...?" Sendoh repeated.
"I don't... know exactly…" he muttered evasively.
Sendoh reached around and with his hand caught hold of Rukawa's hardness in a fist, squeezing it tenderly, causing Rukawa to whine anxiously.
"Then guess?"
"By your... standards...?" Rukawa gave a shudder, "Old. Very... old... ah..." Sendoh moved his hand leisurely, "Akira..." he moaned helplessly, then pressed his face down into the bed, muffling the noises that were wrenched from his throat.
Sendoh stilled, slowing his pace until he stopped completely. On one side squeezing him, on the other stretching him. Motionless. Rukawa trembled helplessly beneath him.
"Well?"
Rukawa gave a soft whine of complaint, and turned his head so he could look up at Sendoh from the corner of his eye. "Many hundreds of years," he admitted reluctantly.
Sendoh was surprised. "Really?" He gave an abrupt thrust forward that made Rukawa gasp.
"So how long have you been hunting?"
Rukawa's eyes flickered open, so Sendoh knew he'd heard, but he didn't answer.
Realising that this was perhaps a question too far, Sendoh began to move again, dragging back and forth against Rukawa's wall until the sound of Rukawa's moans filled him, prickles of release playing in his veins, teasing him onwards, led and heightened and orchestrated by the sounds in Rukawa's throat and the feel of his skin under his hands. Sendoh leaned down and ran his tongue along his spine, hot and ticklish, and Rukawa pressed back against him in return.
Right then, Rukawa didn't seem any different to him. Just a soul making love to another soul. Warm and real.
They moved together easily, their bodies matching each other, until Rukawa tipped over the edge for the second time with a shuddering groan and Sendoh soon followed.
He dropped tiredly alongside Rukawa once again.
"Well than what do you mean 'by my standards'?" Sendoh asked in a mumble, drifting through the cloud of pleasure, his mind in two places. Curious over things he didn't know, and yet half numb to everything except the salt on his tongue and the body mere inches away that still drew him like a magnet. "What about by your standards?"
"We are young," Rukawa answered dazedly. "Still just apprentices."
"Apprentices?" Sendoh mumbled, putting two hands on Rukawa's hips and turning him over gently. His eyes were helpless to the sight of Rukawa's body, fascinated by him laying there, naked and relaxed. The thought that he could touch him, make him moan, make him so heady and lethargic and sated, seemed pleasantly surreal. Yet he gave a soft groan of complaint even as his eyes were busy roaming across his skin. "Kaede, there's so much I don't know."
Kaede lifted a hand and ran his palm softly along his jaw, in silent sympathy.
Sendoh's eyes flickered over him, his fingers moving back to his spent erection and brushing teasingly along its underside, causing it to react and fill almost at once. He smirked a little. "Are you really still unsatisfied?" he teased him.
Rukawa stared at him silently, and Sendoh rose from his place. He shuffled backwards until he could dip his head and press a kiss to the tip of Rukawa's hardness, and heard Rukawa hiss softly. Sendoh licked it, salty and smooth while Rukawa watched him through half-lidded eyes.
Sendoh took a breath. "Tell me about the watchers," he said.
Silence. After a long moment he lifted his eyes to assess Rukawa's expression. It was carefully blank.
"How long have you been waiting to ask that?" Rukawa asked.
"A while," Sendoh admitted. Ever since he'd heard the word from Sakuragi's lips.
Not waiting for a response, Sendoh opened his mouth and took Rukawa's hardness tenderly inside. Rukawa bit down on his lower lip to cut off the noise of his pleasure and tossed his head, hands pawing at the sheets, torn between sated exhaustion and the continuing desire that built and flared and built again. He did not know how many times Sendoh could possibly throw him from the edge, but at this moment he was not unwilling to find out.
From his position down by his hips, Sendoh still managed to send him an expectant look, one brow quirked, his lips gentle around Rukawa's shaft.
"You want me to explain now?" Rukawa hissed in disbelief.
"Uh hmm," Sendoh's agreement was a mischievous hum in his throat.
Rukawa let out another breath of air, bringing an arm across his forehead in aspiration even as Sendoh began to move his head, drawing pleasure back into an unsteady, concentrated swirl.
"I don't know where to begin." Rukawa complained, observing Sendoh with one eye from behind his arm. In encouragement, Sendoh continued to gently sooth him with his tongue.
Eventually, Rukawa closed his eyes in defeat.
"The watchers," Rukawa told him, "were sent to support mortal slayers. It was a time when angels and mortals were allies against the under realm. Angels cannot fight directly, but the Watchers had small magicks…" his voice cut off into an involuntary whine as Sendoh moved his head playfully. It was a moment before he could continue. "A Watcher's blade drew energy and stored it," he struggled to speak clearly. "It could be used to support a slayer who acted as the weapon. The magick was enough for small things; simple little tricks. Every day Watchers used and saved and used again little pieces of their life energy."
Sendoh considered this quietly, drawing back for a moment to speak. "So the watchers were like... guardian angels?"
"It was all over long before my time," Rukawa responded, something a little heavy in his voice. "Once the angels retreated to their own realm, the age of isolation began. There haven't been any Watchers for thousands of years."
"But you…" Sendoh said in confusion, "…you are a watcher, are you not?"
Rukawa looked down at him. "Not… really," he answered. "I am abusing their legacy. That's all."
Sendoh frowned. "But... you are mine," he protested softly. "You... protect me, don't you? You were there in the tavern that day..." he blinked in sudden realisation. "No, even before that, there were five demons in the alleyway. I thought I was dead for sure but... that was you too, wasn't it?"
Rukawa looked uncertain as to whether he ought to confirm or deny it. But Sendoh's face broke into a smile. He moved closer, eagerly pressing his lips against Rukawa's. Drawing back he whispered softly, "You're my guardian angel, right, Kaede?"
Rukawa's fingers caught in his hair and he tilted his head temptingly. "I'm no angel," he countered softly.
Sendoh was amused. He ran his hands across Rukawa's shoulders and kissed him lightly. "But, the magick in the sword… you're storing it up, right?"
Rukawa nodded. "I don't use the magick," he explained, "because I can fight. So if I can store enough, then maybe..." he gave an uncertain shrug.
Sendoh considered this. If Rukawa could collect enough power in the blade of Akira, then might it give him some kind of advantage over Sakuragi? Sakuragi, Sendoh recalled, hadn't seemed to think so.
"So..." Sendoh mused thoughtfully, "...you can only use it if I'm there, because the magick can only be used in my defence, is that right?"
"Yes," Rukawa admitted reluctantly. Sendoh heard the guilt in his voice.
"What will happen to the magick if I die?"
Rukawa's eyes flashed up to meet his, looking very uncomfortable. Sendoh gazed back calmly. It was pointless to pretend. He knew that Sakuragi could erase him in seconds. One wave of his hand was all it would take to eliminate Sendoh from this world.
Rukawa took a breath. "Then the magick cannot be released, and the sword is useless."
"So that's why you have been protecting me," Sendoh deduced. "You need to keep me alive until you have the chance to use the magick against Sakuragi."
Rukawa's face was momentarily anguished. He looked like he wanted to protest. To say that it wasn't so. But the truth of it was obvious. Why else had he pulled Sendoh and only Sendoh out of the tavern that day? Why else had he taken him into his home, fought beside him, protected him, hidden him, followed him, suffered for him?
Was it meant to be love? Compassion? Kindness? Sendoh's eyes drifted over to Akira and he smiled sadly.
The connection between them was real, yet it was a mere byproduct of Rukawa's plan. In the end, what was Sendoh? A sword. To Rukawa, he was just a sword.
And yet he didn't mind. It was enough that he could be useful to him. He had touched his skin and worshiped his body. Why would that not be enough? That, if he was nothing else, at least Sendoh might be able to help a little – even just a little – in his fight against the darkness.
Beside him, Rukawa looked discomforted, unhappy at being forced to confront the reality of the situation. Faced with the fact that in order to follow through with his plan, he would need to put Sendoh in danger, like bait. A diversion. A mere pawn in a chess game of kings. And seeing his expression, Sendoh just couldn't resist pushing him back down against the sheets, his body reacting to him, his fears, his regrets. The gasp on Rukawa's lips was like an aphrodisiac upon him. Eager to lose himself again, he plundered his mouth and his body for satiation of his desires.
Rukawa's watched him through his lashes, concerned. But this time it was Sendoh who didn't want to wait, or slow, or think. He was grateful when Rukawa shifted his weight to allow his legs to part, reaching out with his hands to grasp Sendoh tightly in a fist, driving everything else out of his mind.
Sendoh closed his eyes and hissed softly at the sensation, then bent lower to catch Rukawa's lower lip lightly between his teeth, tugging at it until Rukawa squirmed.
Sendoh moved to press his nose into his neck.
"I love you," he said seriously. "Kaede, do you know that?"
Rukawa opened his mouth to respond, but Sendoh didn't wait for him to speak. Instead he leaned in and kissed him hard. "May I...?" he muttered, his lips pressed tight against Rukawa's, pushing his thighs further apart with the flat of his palms.
Rukawa's long fingers dug encouragingly into the muscles of his back, holding him tightly, inviting him in.
Sendoh sucked in another breath, his body humming with need, sinking into him slowly. His eyes went momentarily sightless with the sensation of burning heat; the rumbling, rolling pulse of Rukawa's body surrounding him deafeningly. Primal and dangerous and utterly beautiful. The words and explanations disintegrated into half-formed waves and mists. Strange unrealities so far at odds with his overwhelming realness. This ephemeral thing was so physical and so very alive.
I just need to stay alive until he can use the magick. That's all. That's what I have to do.
He leaned down and pressed the side of his face against Rukawa's chest, hearing the beating of his heart, the rush of the air in his lungs.
That's all I can do.
That's all I am worth.
I was only ever… a tool for him to use.
And that… I don't mind. I don't mind. I don't mind.
He breathed out, in, as he continued to move, drifting in some other world, his mind neither here nor there, erasing his sadness in the ebb and flow of Rukawa's body. And all at once, he heard it. A sound. Something low and persistent, like a song. Something lost. Something hurt.
He recognised it. It echoed in his head, sounding strangely amplified where his ear pressed against Rukawa's chest, as if the song came through him. But it was not a song from Kaede. Sendoh straightened in surprise.
Rukawa opened an eye to look up at him in question.
Sendoh stilled, just listening. He knew it. He knew it well. He'd heard it thousands of times before and yet somehow it had never seeped into his consciousness as it did at that moment. Moving away from Kaede made it fade until it was soft, almost impossible to hear, but persistent nonetheless. Ignoring Rukawa's look he put his ear back to his skin and once again heard it clearly, a wave of sound. But it was sad. It was so sad.
"I can hear it," he whispered in amazement.
"Hear what?"
He closed his eyes. "The sword."
The sound rose and fell in Rukawa's body as if he were an instrument upon which the sword played it's soft melody.
"It's… here," he tried to explain. "It's... in you."
Rukawa's eyes fell to the side, looking towards the door where his sword still lay beside the neatly folded sash. "You can hear Akira?" he asked in surprise.
Sendoh listened intensely. The hurt. The sadness. It was low and beautiful and made his eyes sting. A song of loneliness and loss. A song of long years and unbearable pain. Broken hearted, shattered love.
But it wasn't Kaede's pain he was hearing, even though it came to him through Kaede's body. And it wasn't Akira's blade that sung to him.
It was Innocence's song. And it was singing Sendoh's own sorrow.
Somehow he'd… never heard it before. He'd never noticed it. Never paid it any attention. He'd lived so long ignoring it. Thrusting his hurt away, and refusing to feel. But now he listened, realising finally that he was hearing the sound of his own heart strangled by grief.
He closed his eyes.
Rukawa lay passive and silent beneath him while Sendoh hovered above immobile and the tears fell silently from Sendoh's eyes to Rukawa's cheeks.