Tsuki no Yami
Disclaimer: I don't own YnM, I only own this plot and Maykai.. and I doubt if anyone else would want them..
Warnings: Death, Angst, Violence, Yaoi, Adult language, AU
Pairings: Primary- Muraki x Tsuzuki, Secondary- Watari x Tatsumi, Maykai+Hisoka,
(Vaguely Implied Muraki x Oriya)
I: Sensei
Muraki glanced behind him as he turned the corner and glared at the shadowed figure that followed him. The damned stranger had followed him now from Tokyo, to Kyoto, where he was currently trying his hardest to shake the mysterious figure before arriving at his friend's house. He still didn't know how the man had beaten him here or even knew he had fled from Tokyo with this place as his destination. He returned his attention to the sidewalk in front of him, ducking into an ally and following it to the back of the house and then lifting himself over the small fence blocking the end of it.
Landing on the other side, he looked back down the ally silently. He saw no one walking down it, so maybe he had slipped away finally. Turning around, he stopped half in anger and half in muted shock. The stranger was standing in front of him. 'How the *hell* did he *do* that?!' Muraki seethed silently glaring at the suited figure. The man stepped forwards, a small weak shaft of moonlight lighting up half of his face, which seemed to be covered by a dark jagged mask.
"Who are you?" Muraki hissed angrily at the man, one hand sliding into his trench coat to wrap around the hilt of the dagger that rested next to his chest inside. "Why have you been following me?"
The stranger laughed, a deep, dark sound that had the effect of raising the hairs on the back of Muraki's neck, making him take a step sideways and away from the figure. The man's dark gaze followed him and a malicious smile stretched the lips under the uneven edge of the mask. "You've escaped death three times, Muraki-sensei. However, this time you will not be so fortunate. You have knowledge which is very dangerous to me and others I have interest in, and it would be very bad should any other party's gain this information or other people use you to deliver the information to someone I do not wish to have it. So I decided to come myself, in order to snuff your light and make sure it stays out this time."
Muraki's eyes narrowed dangerously at him as he drew out the wickedly curved knife from its sheath and slipped a little further from the figure. "I think not, in fact I suggest you leave now and never show your face near Kyoto again or I'll permanently remove it."
The stranger smirked, and chuckled sardonically as he turned to follow Muraki's progress towards the street. "Gomen, but I can not. I've allowed you to live this long, despite your crimes. Now its time to pay, I might have let you off a while back ago, but after what you did a couple years ago, I'm afraid that's no longer possible." The deep voice held a hint of anger and reproach within it.
Muraki stepped back onto sidewalk and bowed slightly at the waist as he prepared to make his exit. "Life's full of mistakes and pain, you just have to learn to deal with it, but I'll leave you someone to play with." He straightened up, snapping two fingers on one hand as he moved back further onto the sidewalk. "Hydra, defend me."
A golden light flared against the shadows the buildings threw over the sidewalk. Racing forwards until it had completed the design of a star within a circle. A powerful wind suddenly rose to whorl around the design as the tall three-headed dragon appeared, and roared in fury at the stranger before them, Rearing back, the three draconic heads opened their muzzles wide to attack the man.
The masked figure seemed, if anything, amused and unconcerned about the attack about to come. He lifted a white gloved hand, making a faint gesture with a couple fingers, that seemed strange and reminded Muraki of someone snuffing out a candle flame. The Hydra swayed slightly, aborting its attack to roar again, this time in pain as it fell forwards against the ground and died fading away to leave both men alone on the cracked sidewalk. Muraki's good eye widened in shock and his hand shifted, tightening on the dagger's hilt as the stranger walked leisurely towards him.
"How did you do that?" he hissed, muscles tensing as he watched the other come closer.
The masked man stopped a few feet away from Muraki and smiled condescendingly at him, one white gloved hand resting on his hip. "What? Kill your little pet monster? Child's play, I snuffed the life from it. Now it's your turn.." he said, the tone dark with malice as he closed the distance between him and Muraki.
Muraki snarled once at him at the threat and leapt towards him, closing the minor distance between them. Slicing upwards with the knife, he aimed at the edge of the mask attempting to hook the curved point of the knife under it so he could rip it from his assailant's face and finally see it. The knife skidded across the jagged surface of the mask and caught in the lone eyehole that was revealed by the moonlight. The dagger's point embedded itself into the rim of the eyehole.
Muraki tried to jerk it back towards him, but the blade wouldn't come free. He was about to release the knife to abandon it, when a gloved hand seized his wrist. Giving the masked stranger a glare that scorch steel, he jerked his arm towards him, attempting to free himself.
The stranger laughed quietly as another white gloved hand rose to take a hold of the upper part of Muraki's arm, the fingers closing around the material of the coats easily to grasp the muscle underneath firmly. "Now it is time to pay your debts, Muraki-sensei." he said coldly as his hands tightened suddenly over both the arm and wrist twisting them viciously in opposite directions, breaking the wrist and the upper arm bone with a loud snap that echoed faintly from the stone surroundings.
Muraki's breath hissed out painfully between clenched teeth as he stifled the outcry that had clawed its way into his throat at the pain that was now screaming up his arm. One hand released the broken arm, to wrap itself around his throat before he was able to comprehend that the other man had moved at all. Still in shock from the pain of the torn muscles and broken bones, he didn't move as the stranger's thumb began to press against his windpipe.
As the pressure increased though, Muraki raised his free hand and grasped the wrist, digging his fingers into the tender underside of it trying to make the other man release him. The masked stranger acted as though he didn't even notice it and soon, Muraki's legs gave out from under him, dropping him down partly to his knees, only the gloved hand around his throat and his own hand around the other's wrist kept him off the ground. His vision began to fade slowly to gray at the edges from lack of air.
A voice suddenly broke the silence that had stretched for the last several minutes. "Hmm.. perhaps I should make you suffer like you made some of your other victims suffer, ne? I believe that would be much more fitting, don't you?" The man's voice was callous, as he spoke, the gloved hand releasing Muraki's throat, while the other hand tightened harshly over the broken wrist, jerking it upwards and grinding the small bones together.
The pain that flared up the length of his arm along with the urgent need to regain his breath, blinded Muraki to the ebony clad knee heading for his chest until it was to late to attempt dodging it. The knee rammed into Muraki's chest painfully, rocking him backwards roughly. What breath he had recovered hissed out of him in a agonizing rush between his teeth as he clenched them to stifle the cry that once more tried to claw its way out of his throat. It escaped in a piercing scream though, as the masked bastard brutally twisted the savaged arm and wrist once again.
Fighting the searing pain attempting to consume his senses, Muraki struggled to straighten up, gasping as more pain stabbed him in the chest. Raising his good hand slowly towards his chest, he diagnosed it as several broken ribs digging into him. He felt arm dropped without warning and he turned his head to look up. The flash of weak moonlight on a silver curved blade greeted him coldly before everything went mercifully dark.
*
Awaking slowly, Muraki winced faintly as the pain from various aches made themselves known once again. Blinking once silently, he recognized the ceiling above him. He attempted to draw a breath to speak and felt something hot and thick rise in his throat to choke him. Coughing once, he felt whatever it was run through his lips and down over one cheek.
A wet cloth touched his cheek then, wiping it away. Turning his head slowly, he tried again to speak, only to end up choking once more and coughing more of the liquid up to spill down one cheek. He smelled it then and shoved the knowledge right ruthlessly back out of his mind. Muraki would not allow the knowledge that he was choking on his own blood to frighten him. He had been wounded severely before, several times almost within touching distance of the point of no return and had survived, he *would* survive this as well. Finally he was able to draw a small breath, without coughing and looked over at his friend. "Ori.." the word was interrupted by another cough though.
Oriya turned to rinse the cloth he was using in a bowl beside him. The long dark hair was down over his face hiding it from view as he turned back to wipe Muraki's face with the damp cloth. "Don't speak, sensei. Save your strength and breath." Oriya murmured softly sitting on his knees, his expression hid underneath his hair.
Muraki frowned faintly at Oriya and tried to move towards him only to lay back down and hiss softly as a sharp pain in his chest stabbed into him. After several minutes of lying there and recovering he lifted his good arm to grasp Oriya's hair and move it back over his friend's shoulder to reveal his face. The pale face was streaked with tearstains and the area around the amber eyes was swollen and red from the crying of those tears.
"Oriya.." he paused to get another small breath and continued, his good hand holding onto Oriya's shoulder. "I've escaped death three times, this time will be no different. Do not cry for me. When I am recovered, both of us will hunt down the bastard who attacked me and we'll pay him back in kind." He released the shoulder and relaxed once more on the bed watching Oriya. "Do not worry about me.."
Oriya closed his eyes and nodded. "Hai, Muraki-sensei." he said quietly, as he leaned down and lightly brushed a light kiss over Muraki's forehead. Standing up, he picked up the bowl that sat on the floor beside him and left the room.
