A/N: Merry Christmas to all!!
Poison Ivy: Wan! A new reader! Arigatou! Be sure to spread the word about this fantastic fic you're reading! (shameless, yes I know) ^^
NekoMoon-chan: Well, it would make a terrific hair-tearing ending wouldn't it if Kyo dies (again)?? Hmm. . .
Ruby-Tears: You'll find the answer at the end of this chapter!
Rinny: Everyone! Blame Rinny for what's going to happen to Kyo because she had the same idea as I did and she told me to go ahead with it! Hohoho!
Miss Misery:. . . do you think too much lemons is bad for the health?
Sakusha-san: Nearly all the readers of this fic (and its author) are lemon addicts. . . join the club!
Shaynie: What's your idea on how the Shinigamis are going to solve this case?
CHAPTER 18: To Die Or Not To Die
_______________________________________________________________________
{How do I get through the night without you. . . .
If I had to live without you
What kind of life would that be?
Oh I need you in my arms, need you to hold
You are my world, my heart, my soul
If you ever leave
baby you would take away
everything good in my life
and tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?}
________________________________________________________________________
The world had stopped in its tracks then. Silence and stillness reigned supreme and the very air was dead. But there was noise in that dead world. White noise. White noise that roared and raged in his ears as he stared in disbelief at the man that had given him hell and threatened to destroy everything else dear to him.
His throat was too dry suddenly and he swallowed nervously, praying somehow that he hadn't heard Akuma correctly. Maybe he meant his own friends (not that that was more comforting, but definitely better than the alternative). . . "What did you say?" his voice was just as raspy and his eyes were wide with fear and apprehension.
That smile on Akuma's face was infuriatingly serene and calm. That twinkling in his amber eyes had reappeared and Kyo knew he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Like I said before, for your friends. They are coming after all."
Kyo shook his head numbly. "I didn't tell them that I was coming. And they couldn't possibly track you down without me to guide them."
But Akuma shook his head too, still smiling. "I expected that. That's why I had left a tracking spell attached to the curse that was activated when you answered me. Your friend. . Hisoka, isn't it? With his emphatic abilities, he'd have no trouble tracking you down."
This cannot be happening. This simply CANNOT be happening. He didn't want this. This wasn't why he came here to face Akuma alone. This defeated the very PURPOSE of why he came alone. He had not wanted to expose the others, especially Taka, to Akuma. That will ensure the possibility that this game would never end until he wiped out the entire Shokan division.
"Dear Kyo. . .did you came here with the noble idea of sacrificing yourself to protect your friends?" Akuma purred, nuzzling Kyo's neck as Kyo continued to stare fixedly into the distance. "Very commendable, I assure you. But every sacrifice needs witnesses so that it will be remembered and cherished. Doesn't that make the sacrifice even more worth it?
To tell you the truth, I'm quite looking forward to meeting this. . . Taka of yours. . . Would he be as entertaining as you? Would he be as. . .delicious, as you?" the words were a low hiss, sibilant and snakelike as they slithered across his skin to penetrate deep into his heart. It triggered murderous rage.
Ignoring his pain and aches, Kyo launched himself at Akuma, throwing the man on his back on the sofa as he leaned over him, trembling hands clutching the demon's throat in a vicelike grip. "I came here to kill you," Kyo hissed back, his eyes narrowing into slits. Rage and adrenalin lent him momentary strength as he tried to choke the life out of Akuma, intent on squeezing out his last breath with his own hands. But the curse proved to have the upper hand. Akuma was totally unfazed even as Kyo bore down on him, still smiling, and his smile grew wider when the first rush of adrenalin left Kyo and his hands began to lose their grip.
With a move as easy as flicking away a bothersome insect, Akuma raised one silk-sheathed leg and casually brought it up in one swift kick against Kyo's stomach, knocking the air out of the boy and throwing him back. Kyo flew, light as feather, and as he came back down on the sofa, the back of his head slammed onto the hard armrest, bringing a sudden blackness to his vision.
He must have passed out then for when he opened his eyes again, dazed and head aching, he found himself with his cheek pressed against the seat of the sofa and Akuma was crouching on the floor next to him. A look of concern was evident in the murderer's face and he was pressing a cold cloth against the bruise at the back of Kyo's head, just near the base.
"You're so stubborn, Kyo-chan," Akuma sighed despondently. "But then," his face brightened, "that's why I like you so much. You're so different from the rest. . . Oh, some of them were brave, like you," he assured Kyo, the compress still pressed and giving numbing relief from the pounding. "But they all broke down in the end. Weak humans that they were. . .but you. . .ah, still fighting even when there's nothing to fight for. . . you intrigue me."
"There's always something to fight for," Kyo weakly gasped out. "As long as you're alive, there's always something to fight for."
Akuma's smile softened then, a look of gentleness. "But Kyo-chan, you are not alive anymore. You're dead. You've been dead a long time, remember?"
Kyo didn't think it would still hurt, but it did, a little bit; this realization of having your life taken away from you like that when you still had so much to live for, so much to do. It had taken time but he had accepted that undeniable fact and had taken courage and strength from Taka's loving presence. Even death was life as long as he was with the sensei.
"It doesn't matter," he whispered doggedly. "As long as I have people who love me with me, it doesn't matter that all I am is a Shinigami. It's all technicalities in the end anyway."
"Ah, you make me love you more and more, Kyo-chan.'
Kyo took a wild gamble then, hoping that Akuma would listen to him. "Then leave my friends alone. You wanted me, now you got me. So leave them."
"That," Akuma declared rather apologetically, "would be out of the question, I'm afraid. I haven't had this much fun in centuries. There's no way I'm going to stop now, not even for my Kyo-chan."
Tears of anger burned at the back of Kyo's eyes but he refused to let them fall. He refused to show any more weaknesses for him, for this monster in human skin.
"Damn you."
Was there a trace of regret in those golden orbs at that whispered curse?
"Kyo-chan, we are all damned."
________________________________________________________________________
Kyo was lying on his side, still on that hateful sofa, with his head in Akuma's lap. He really didn't have much of a choice about it, not daring to test Akuma's patience again for now. He needed to conserve what little he had left for the final move in the game. He hoped.
He didn't know how long they had been there, but it couldn't have been that long, perhaps just over a half-hour, ever since he arrived. Akuma had insisted he drank some more tea to feel better and he had grudgingly complied. Now all that was left was to wait for the others to come. Akuma's fingers were idly playing with his hair, running through it and sometimes stroking. Despite himself, Kyo was beginning to feel drowsy, the world slipping in and out of focus as he struggled to stay awake. Everything had a slightly fuzzy edge to it, the table, the ominous armchairs, the decorative lamps spilling warm light in the curtained room.
The ever present curse was still there of course, still a deep lingering pain in his very bones that added burden to his effort of maintaining lucidity of mind. He didn't have much time now. Already, he could feel his life slipping away, bit by bit. The confrontation had to come soon or it will all be for nothing.
A sudden prickle raised goose bumps across his skin. They were here. He could feel it. Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Tatsumi, Watari. . . and Taka. Akuma hadn't stop his idle fingers, still entwined in his hair but the awareness that had seeped into that relaxed posture warned Kyo that Akuma too was aware that the Shinigamis had come. He should get up, sit, get away from Akuma, anything, but his body refused to obey him. The combination drowsiness and pain was still playing with him, the world still like an out of tuned tv set.
The silence that blanketed the room was shattered as soundless presence could be felt just outside the door. Akuma made no move to extricate himself from Kyo, nor showed any gestures for an impending attack. Instead, he raised a too pale hand negligently and the door swung open on silent hinges at his unspoken command.
There they were, all five of them, Taka and Tatsumi in the front. They stood just beyond the threshold, not even surprised it seems at the rather cordial invitation to enter. Taka's eyes alighted immediately on the still form that was Kyo and his mouth tightened into a thin slash. Fists clenched, he looked ready to do battle and cross that invisible line into the demon's domain before the secretary placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, warning caution.
"Please, come in," Akuma invited graciously. He seemed to be amused at their wariness and laughed softly. "Even if it's a trap, what choice do you have?" he said, unconsciously echoing Kyo's earlier statement. "You want your friend back, and I have him. Either way, you can come in and face the consequences. . .or just stand there and watch him die a slow death." The look he gave them was malicious as he added, "Again."
That appeared to have made their minds up. Slowly, reluctantly, they entered the ornately decorated room, eyes fixed upon the blue-clad figure, sitting harmlessly on that sofa with the boy lying beside him, head on his lap and a glazed look in his eyes.
"Please," Akuma gestured at the armchairs. "Sit. Make yourself comfortable. Have some tea if you want. I'd get up but my hands are full as you can see."
Tatsumi still had his hand on Taka's, talking softly to the man as the sensei glared at the offending hand still stroking and petting Kyo so intimately. He controlled himself though, with some visible effort and sat down in the armchair in the middle, back stiff and eyes shooting daggers at Akuma.
Akuma inclined his head politely. "Sensei. Just the man I've been wanting to meet. I've been wondering just what kind of person could hold Kyo's fascination like that and now I've met you, I have to agree with him. You are most. . . attractive." He smiled.
"What do you want?" Taka's voice was clipped and terse and that familiar sound seemed to bring some clarity back to Kyo's vision. He blinked and the world came into more focus, the sharpest detail in his sight being the bespectacled man sitting in the middle, a look of utmost anger on his face.
"Taka. . ."
Kyo reached out a hand longingly, reaching out for that hand that had held his through the best and worst times of his life. Always warm, always caring. Anguish crossed Taka's face and he mirrored the gesture but was stopped by Akuma's sudden movement. The blood and bone-colored man folded Kyo's hand in his and gently placed them back at his side. Kyo made no move to get away and that alarmed the rest of them. Kyo looked as though he was drugged, eyes going in and out of focus and his face nearly as pale as Akuma's. He didn't have much time left it appeared.
"Akuma-san." Tatsumi. Ever polite. Even when delivering the deadliest threat.
"Tatsumi-san." A mocking smile. An amused look.
"As it seems that you are currently intent on entertaining us," Tatsumi began, legs crossed casually and looking every inch the rich gentleman relaxing in his private domain, he continued, "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself? You've been quite elusive. There's hardly any records on you in our database."
Akuma inclined his head slightly at that, as though he had been given a compliment. "Yes, well, I'm quite proud of that. Considering what I've done, it's amazing really, that the Shinigamis have so far, failed to do anything or even know my real name.
Not just the Japan division, I assure you. China, Hong Kong, Taiwan. . . . I've an affinity for Asian countries as you can tell. Reminds me of home." His hand never stopped in their lazy stroking, sometimes twisting a limp, black strand, or other times just circling absently over a pale cheek.
"Are you even human?" Hisoka asked. He was holding up well, despite the close proximity to such evil that Akuma radiated. The hold he had on his shields was awesome to behold but he'd be damned before he let Akuma lord it over him.
"An amazingly astute question, Hisoka-san," Akuma congratulated him cheerfully. "Actually, I'm not really sure myself." He tapped a finger against his chin idly. "I was once. . . . . a long time ago. . . a very long time ago. . I'm even older than Tsuzuki-san here, if you can believe it."
"I take it then that the sacrifices you did, were intended to prolong your life?" It was Watari, the normally genki scientist had on the most serious expression on his face. There was time for laughter and there was time to get down to business after all.
Akuma shrugged carelessly. "Of course. What else for?"
"Why though? What's so great about immortality that you'd do anything to achieve it?" Watari shot back.
His fingers stopped their idle stroking then briefly, poised over the silky strands and seeming to make up his mind, it traveled down the breadth of a pale cheek, trailing down an as pale neck and came to a rest, protectively palming a shallowly moving chest.
"It is human's natural instinct to fear and evade death, Watari-san. Surely you would know, being an experienced Shinigami. The lengths that people go to avoid Enma's judgment. . .I merely took it one step further, that's all."
"It's not the same!" Hisoka glared fiercely at the man. "They-"
He was brusquely cut off by Akuma. "We are all the same, Hisoka-san. Tell me, when Muraki. . . .met you, did you not cower in fear at the scent of death he breathed on you? And you, Tatsumi-san, did you really wish for your mother to die, just like that?"
The two mentioned had gone rigid in their seats as their past was cruelly brought up and thrown in their faces mockingly. They didn't have a chance to retaliate when Akuma smoothly went on.
"And Tsuzuki-san. . . . Tsuzuki-san. . ." Akuma was practically singing out the amethyst-eyed man's name, a malicious glint in his own eyes and Tsuzuki paled, shrinking back in his chair and looking for all the world like a chasm to hell had opened up before him. Beside him, Hisoka reached out an equally trembling hand and grasped Tsuzuki's comfortingly. He held on to that slim hand like a lifeline.
"Yes, we all fear death. . .at first. For me, death has no meaning but a stage in life that I wish to avoid for the sole reason of the boredom it'll give me. To not breathe in dawn-cold air. . to taste the sweet juices of a ripe peach. . to drink the salty goodness of fresh flowing blood. . ." It must have been the play of shadows from the candles burning on the on a side table, they tried to tell themselves. It had seemed, for a moment, that Akuma had truly appeared as his name; eyes glowing an ember-bright red and a long, forked tongue flicking lightly at the corner of his mouth. Unconsciously, they shrank back in their chairs.
"You're dying aren't you," Watari said, a look of dawning realization on his face, his spectacles glinting with sudden excitement. "That's why all your past victims before this all had their souls safely delivered to Meifu and why now your latest victims all had their souls totally destroyed.
You're dying. You're getting desperate. Whatever magic your using isn't working anymore and instead of the usual sacrifices, you have to perform blood-magic. That's wh-"
A look of utter fury was on his face, the first they had ever saw on that demon, and Watari screeched to a halt in his excited announcement of his latest discovery. That look was purely animal in nature, raw and basic and totally without pity. The hand that had rested on Kyo's chest tightened and everyone could feel the burst of pure power that roared through it. Underneath that instrument of power, Kyo gasped and started to choke, curling up into a ball and jerking and writhing in silent pain. "Move any further and I'll end it right here," Akuma hissed as the five of them sprang up from the chairs.
Helplessness shackled their limbs and they reluctantly, obediently sat back down, eyes locked in mute and shared agony as the boy gasped for breath, eyes rolling. But after a minute, the hand relaxed and Kyo stopped his mindless dance of pain, eyes wide and hands laying limply by his side.
"You're very smart, Watari. Very. Yes, I'm dying. All of my centuries of effort and I'm dying," he sighed almost mockingly. His other free hand then went to his own chest, above his heart and without even a change of expression, that hand curled into a fist and slowly drew back. Along with it, sliding smoothly out of blue silk and skin as though it was liquid, was a long, obsidian black knife.
The knife was. . . .disturbing to say the least. The fact that Akuma had pulled it out of his own chest was enough of an eye opener but there was something else about that knife. . .
Akuma twirled it absently in his hand. It was an odd-looking knife. The blade and hilt seemed to be made of the same thing, the joining between them hardly visible. Another twirl sent light skittering across the surface of the blade and it gave off a dull, red shimmer.
"Isn't it lovely?" Akuma held out the knife at them. "I made it myself you know. Made it from my own blood. To spill the blood of others. Quite painful it was, making the knife," he winced. "Just a simple spell and quick swipe with it," he went on, grinning, "and I got all the lifeforce I needed to extend my own.
But, like you said, Watari-san, its potency is getting weaker. More and more I have to rely on the soul itself for power instead of just blood." A look of mad anger then slipped its mask over him and he leaned forward, nearly spitting out his next words.
"I, I who have nearly attained the goal of immortality is now dying! Dying! All those years and effort and what do I get? Reduced to a pitiful soul- sucker like a common demon! I, who have transcended beyond any human or devil!"
"And I guess that's why all the games then? One last play before the curtains fall on you?" Tatsumi asked.
It was disconcerting how easily Akuma could wear one expression and in the next second, discard it for another. It was like he wasn't even really feeling those emotions he portrayed. Rather, it was as though they were merely masks to be worn for the occasion. Now, he smiled easily as though talking to an old friend.
"Well, I have to go out with a bang of course! A fitting end for one as I. If I have to die, I might as well take Death with me, kicking and screaming to the grave."
"There will be no grave for you." With that, Tatsumi tensed himself and started to rise to his feet, joined by the others, prepared for an all-out attack.
But he couldn't move. Not even an inch. Glowing on the hardwood floor like personal spotlights, was that familiar and hated pentagram shining from under each of their chairs; five magical cages. What surprised the secretary though, was the fact that the pentagram had any power in the first place.
"You're wondering why your spell didn't work?" Akuma grinned a Cheshire grin. "Try looking at the ofudas the five of you had stick on against your backrest," he said helpfully. "Oh, oops, I forgot you can't move a muscle can you?" Akuma was totally enjoying himself now, a beautiful look of mock sympathy the mask he currently wore. "Did you really think I expected you to come waltzing in here without any sort of counter-spell for my pentagrams? I may be evil, but I don't underestimate my opponents.
The ofudas have all turned to ash. The very chairs you sit on have been built to destroy such spells in the first place. And now, I've been neglecting my poor Kyo, gentlemen. He'll be desolate."
The blood knife was carefully set down on the floor and like a graceful lover, he pulled the barely conscious Kyo into an embrace, cuddling the boy close and placing a gentle kiss on those slack lips.
A sound of pure rage escaped Takashi's throat, bursting out like a wild animal and ringing across the room. "Don't you dare touch him!" Takashi screamed, straining at his invisible bonds. But all the shouting and screaming in the world could do nothing as they stared in bound horror as Akuma placed a hand at the tie holding Kyo's yukata closed. They played teasingly around the simple knot and soft yank was enough to loosen the tie, sending it falling to the floor.
The white cotton yukata now lay open, baring a smooth expanse of chest and stomach as the owner of that exposed flesh lie in unresisting silence, the now deep indigo eyes blank and empty.
"Kyo-chan," a soft whisper. "You are so beautiful. Such beauty shouldn't go to waste, ne?
It should be tasted and enjoyed. . . by everyone."
And those near black eyes stayed mercifully empty.
________________________________________________________________________
Poison Ivy: Wan! A new reader! Arigatou! Be sure to spread the word about this fantastic fic you're reading! (shameless, yes I know) ^^
NekoMoon-chan: Well, it would make a terrific hair-tearing ending wouldn't it if Kyo dies (again)?? Hmm. . .
Ruby-Tears: You'll find the answer at the end of this chapter!
Rinny: Everyone! Blame Rinny for what's going to happen to Kyo because she had the same idea as I did and she told me to go ahead with it! Hohoho!
Miss Misery:. . . do you think too much lemons is bad for the health?
Sakusha-san: Nearly all the readers of this fic (and its author) are lemon addicts. . . join the club!
Shaynie: What's your idea on how the Shinigamis are going to solve this case?
CHAPTER 18: To Die Or Not To Die
_______________________________________________________________________
{How do I get through the night without you. . . .
If I had to live without you
What kind of life would that be?
Oh I need you in my arms, need you to hold
You are my world, my heart, my soul
If you ever leave
baby you would take away
everything good in my life
and tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?}
________________________________________________________________________
The world had stopped in its tracks then. Silence and stillness reigned supreme and the very air was dead. But there was noise in that dead world. White noise. White noise that roared and raged in his ears as he stared in disbelief at the man that had given him hell and threatened to destroy everything else dear to him.
His throat was too dry suddenly and he swallowed nervously, praying somehow that he hadn't heard Akuma correctly. Maybe he meant his own friends (not that that was more comforting, but definitely better than the alternative). . . "What did you say?" his voice was just as raspy and his eyes were wide with fear and apprehension.
That smile on Akuma's face was infuriatingly serene and calm. That twinkling in his amber eyes had reappeared and Kyo knew he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Like I said before, for your friends. They are coming after all."
Kyo shook his head numbly. "I didn't tell them that I was coming. And they couldn't possibly track you down without me to guide them."
But Akuma shook his head too, still smiling. "I expected that. That's why I had left a tracking spell attached to the curse that was activated when you answered me. Your friend. . Hisoka, isn't it? With his emphatic abilities, he'd have no trouble tracking you down."
This cannot be happening. This simply CANNOT be happening. He didn't want this. This wasn't why he came here to face Akuma alone. This defeated the very PURPOSE of why he came alone. He had not wanted to expose the others, especially Taka, to Akuma. That will ensure the possibility that this game would never end until he wiped out the entire Shokan division.
"Dear Kyo. . .did you came here with the noble idea of sacrificing yourself to protect your friends?" Akuma purred, nuzzling Kyo's neck as Kyo continued to stare fixedly into the distance. "Very commendable, I assure you. But every sacrifice needs witnesses so that it will be remembered and cherished. Doesn't that make the sacrifice even more worth it?
To tell you the truth, I'm quite looking forward to meeting this. . . Taka of yours. . . Would he be as entertaining as you? Would he be as. . .delicious, as you?" the words were a low hiss, sibilant and snakelike as they slithered across his skin to penetrate deep into his heart. It triggered murderous rage.
Ignoring his pain and aches, Kyo launched himself at Akuma, throwing the man on his back on the sofa as he leaned over him, trembling hands clutching the demon's throat in a vicelike grip. "I came here to kill you," Kyo hissed back, his eyes narrowing into slits. Rage and adrenalin lent him momentary strength as he tried to choke the life out of Akuma, intent on squeezing out his last breath with his own hands. But the curse proved to have the upper hand. Akuma was totally unfazed even as Kyo bore down on him, still smiling, and his smile grew wider when the first rush of adrenalin left Kyo and his hands began to lose their grip.
With a move as easy as flicking away a bothersome insect, Akuma raised one silk-sheathed leg and casually brought it up in one swift kick against Kyo's stomach, knocking the air out of the boy and throwing him back. Kyo flew, light as feather, and as he came back down on the sofa, the back of his head slammed onto the hard armrest, bringing a sudden blackness to his vision.
He must have passed out then for when he opened his eyes again, dazed and head aching, he found himself with his cheek pressed against the seat of the sofa and Akuma was crouching on the floor next to him. A look of concern was evident in the murderer's face and he was pressing a cold cloth against the bruise at the back of Kyo's head, just near the base.
"You're so stubborn, Kyo-chan," Akuma sighed despondently. "But then," his face brightened, "that's why I like you so much. You're so different from the rest. . . Oh, some of them were brave, like you," he assured Kyo, the compress still pressed and giving numbing relief from the pounding. "But they all broke down in the end. Weak humans that they were. . .but you. . .ah, still fighting even when there's nothing to fight for. . . you intrigue me."
"There's always something to fight for," Kyo weakly gasped out. "As long as you're alive, there's always something to fight for."
Akuma's smile softened then, a look of gentleness. "But Kyo-chan, you are not alive anymore. You're dead. You've been dead a long time, remember?"
Kyo didn't think it would still hurt, but it did, a little bit; this realization of having your life taken away from you like that when you still had so much to live for, so much to do. It had taken time but he had accepted that undeniable fact and had taken courage and strength from Taka's loving presence. Even death was life as long as he was with the sensei.
"It doesn't matter," he whispered doggedly. "As long as I have people who love me with me, it doesn't matter that all I am is a Shinigami. It's all technicalities in the end anyway."
"Ah, you make me love you more and more, Kyo-chan.'
Kyo took a wild gamble then, hoping that Akuma would listen to him. "Then leave my friends alone. You wanted me, now you got me. So leave them."
"That," Akuma declared rather apologetically, "would be out of the question, I'm afraid. I haven't had this much fun in centuries. There's no way I'm going to stop now, not even for my Kyo-chan."
Tears of anger burned at the back of Kyo's eyes but he refused to let them fall. He refused to show any more weaknesses for him, for this monster in human skin.
"Damn you."
Was there a trace of regret in those golden orbs at that whispered curse?
"Kyo-chan, we are all damned."
________________________________________________________________________
Kyo was lying on his side, still on that hateful sofa, with his head in Akuma's lap. He really didn't have much of a choice about it, not daring to test Akuma's patience again for now. He needed to conserve what little he had left for the final move in the game. He hoped.
He didn't know how long they had been there, but it couldn't have been that long, perhaps just over a half-hour, ever since he arrived. Akuma had insisted he drank some more tea to feel better and he had grudgingly complied. Now all that was left was to wait for the others to come. Akuma's fingers were idly playing with his hair, running through it and sometimes stroking. Despite himself, Kyo was beginning to feel drowsy, the world slipping in and out of focus as he struggled to stay awake. Everything had a slightly fuzzy edge to it, the table, the ominous armchairs, the decorative lamps spilling warm light in the curtained room.
The ever present curse was still there of course, still a deep lingering pain in his very bones that added burden to his effort of maintaining lucidity of mind. He didn't have much time now. Already, he could feel his life slipping away, bit by bit. The confrontation had to come soon or it will all be for nothing.
A sudden prickle raised goose bumps across his skin. They were here. He could feel it. Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Tatsumi, Watari. . . and Taka. Akuma hadn't stop his idle fingers, still entwined in his hair but the awareness that had seeped into that relaxed posture warned Kyo that Akuma too was aware that the Shinigamis had come. He should get up, sit, get away from Akuma, anything, but his body refused to obey him. The combination drowsiness and pain was still playing with him, the world still like an out of tuned tv set.
The silence that blanketed the room was shattered as soundless presence could be felt just outside the door. Akuma made no move to extricate himself from Kyo, nor showed any gestures for an impending attack. Instead, he raised a too pale hand negligently and the door swung open on silent hinges at his unspoken command.
There they were, all five of them, Taka and Tatsumi in the front. They stood just beyond the threshold, not even surprised it seems at the rather cordial invitation to enter. Taka's eyes alighted immediately on the still form that was Kyo and his mouth tightened into a thin slash. Fists clenched, he looked ready to do battle and cross that invisible line into the demon's domain before the secretary placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, warning caution.
"Please, come in," Akuma invited graciously. He seemed to be amused at their wariness and laughed softly. "Even if it's a trap, what choice do you have?" he said, unconsciously echoing Kyo's earlier statement. "You want your friend back, and I have him. Either way, you can come in and face the consequences. . .or just stand there and watch him die a slow death." The look he gave them was malicious as he added, "Again."
That appeared to have made their minds up. Slowly, reluctantly, they entered the ornately decorated room, eyes fixed upon the blue-clad figure, sitting harmlessly on that sofa with the boy lying beside him, head on his lap and a glazed look in his eyes.
"Please," Akuma gestured at the armchairs. "Sit. Make yourself comfortable. Have some tea if you want. I'd get up but my hands are full as you can see."
Tatsumi still had his hand on Taka's, talking softly to the man as the sensei glared at the offending hand still stroking and petting Kyo so intimately. He controlled himself though, with some visible effort and sat down in the armchair in the middle, back stiff and eyes shooting daggers at Akuma.
Akuma inclined his head politely. "Sensei. Just the man I've been wanting to meet. I've been wondering just what kind of person could hold Kyo's fascination like that and now I've met you, I have to agree with him. You are most. . . attractive." He smiled.
"What do you want?" Taka's voice was clipped and terse and that familiar sound seemed to bring some clarity back to Kyo's vision. He blinked and the world came into more focus, the sharpest detail in his sight being the bespectacled man sitting in the middle, a look of utmost anger on his face.
"Taka. . ."
Kyo reached out a hand longingly, reaching out for that hand that had held his through the best and worst times of his life. Always warm, always caring. Anguish crossed Taka's face and he mirrored the gesture but was stopped by Akuma's sudden movement. The blood and bone-colored man folded Kyo's hand in his and gently placed them back at his side. Kyo made no move to get away and that alarmed the rest of them. Kyo looked as though he was drugged, eyes going in and out of focus and his face nearly as pale as Akuma's. He didn't have much time left it appeared.
"Akuma-san." Tatsumi. Ever polite. Even when delivering the deadliest threat.
"Tatsumi-san." A mocking smile. An amused look.
"As it seems that you are currently intent on entertaining us," Tatsumi began, legs crossed casually and looking every inch the rich gentleman relaxing in his private domain, he continued, "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself? You've been quite elusive. There's hardly any records on you in our database."
Akuma inclined his head slightly at that, as though he had been given a compliment. "Yes, well, I'm quite proud of that. Considering what I've done, it's amazing really, that the Shinigamis have so far, failed to do anything or even know my real name.
Not just the Japan division, I assure you. China, Hong Kong, Taiwan. . . . I've an affinity for Asian countries as you can tell. Reminds me of home." His hand never stopped in their lazy stroking, sometimes twisting a limp, black strand, or other times just circling absently over a pale cheek.
"Are you even human?" Hisoka asked. He was holding up well, despite the close proximity to such evil that Akuma radiated. The hold he had on his shields was awesome to behold but he'd be damned before he let Akuma lord it over him.
"An amazingly astute question, Hisoka-san," Akuma congratulated him cheerfully. "Actually, I'm not really sure myself." He tapped a finger against his chin idly. "I was once. . . . . a long time ago. . . a very long time ago. . I'm even older than Tsuzuki-san here, if you can believe it."
"I take it then that the sacrifices you did, were intended to prolong your life?" It was Watari, the normally genki scientist had on the most serious expression on his face. There was time for laughter and there was time to get down to business after all.
Akuma shrugged carelessly. "Of course. What else for?"
"Why though? What's so great about immortality that you'd do anything to achieve it?" Watari shot back.
His fingers stopped their idle stroking then briefly, poised over the silky strands and seeming to make up his mind, it traveled down the breadth of a pale cheek, trailing down an as pale neck and came to a rest, protectively palming a shallowly moving chest.
"It is human's natural instinct to fear and evade death, Watari-san. Surely you would know, being an experienced Shinigami. The lengths that people go to avoid Enma's judgment. . .I merely took it one step further, that's all."
"It's not the same!" Hisoka glared fiercely at the man. "They-"
He was brusquely cut off by Akuma. "We are all the same, Hisoka-san. Tell me, when Muraki. . . .met you, did you not cower in fear at the scent of death he breathed on you? And you, Tatsumi-san, did you really wish for your mother to die, just like that?"
The two mentioned had gone rigid in their seats as their past was cruelly brought up and thrown in their faces mockingly. They didn't have a chance to retaliate when Akuma smoothly went on.
"And Tsuzuki-san. . . . Tsuzuki-san. . ." Akuma was practically singing out the amethyst-eyed man's name, a malicious glint in his own eyes and Tsuzuki paled, shrinking back in his chair and looking for all the world like a chasm to hell had opened up before him. Beside him, Hisoka reached out an equally trembling hand and grasped Tsuzuki's comfortingly. He held on to that slim hand like a lifeline.
"Yes, we all fear death. . .at first. For me, death has no meaning but a stage in life that I wish to avoid for the sole reason of the boredom it'll give me. To not breathe in dawn-cold air. . to taste the sweet juices of a ripe peach. . to drink the salty goodness of fresh flowing blood. . ." It must have been the play of shadows from the candles burning on the on a side table, they tried to tell themselves. It had seemed, for a moment, that Akuma had truly appeared as his name; eyes glowing an ember-bright red and a long, forked tongue flicking lightly at the corner of his mouth. Unconsciously, they shrank back in their chairs.
"You're dying aren't you," Watari said, a look of dawning realization on his face, his spectacles glinting with sudden excitement. "That's why all your past victims before this all had their souls safely delivered to Meifu and why now your latest victims all had their souls totally destroyed.
You're dying. You're getting desperate. Whatever magic your using isn't working anymore and instead of the usual sacrifices, you have to perform blood-magic. That's wh-"
A look of utter fury was on his face, the first they had ever saw on that demon, and Watari screeched to a halt in his excited announcement of his latest discovery. That look was purely animal in nature, raw and basic and totally without pity. The hand that had rested on Kyo's chest tightened and everyone could feel the burst of pure power that roared through it. Underneath that instrument of power, Kyo gasped and started to choke, curling up into a ball and jerking and writhing in silent pain. "Move any further and I'll end it right here," Akuma hissed as the five of them sprang up from the chairs.
Helplessness shackled their limbs and they reluctantly, obediently sat back down, eyes locked in mute and shared agony as the boy gasped for breath, eyes rolling. But after a minute, the hand relaxed and Kyo stopped his mindless dance of pain, eyes wide and hands laying limply by his side.
"You're very smart, Watari. Very. Yes, I'm dying. All of my centuries of effort and I'm dying," he sighed almost mockingly. His other free hand then went to his own chest, above his heart and without even a change of expression, that hand curled into a fist and slowly drew back. Along with it, sliding smoothly out of blue silk and skin as though it was liquid, was a long, obsidian black knife.
The knife was. . . .disturbing to say the least. The fact that Akuma had pulled it out of his own chest was enough of an eye opener but there was something else about that knife. . .
Akuma twirled it absently in his hand. It was an odd-looking knife. The blade and hilt seemed to be made of the same thing, the joining between them hardly visible. Another twirl sent light skittering across the surface of the blade and it gave off a dull, red shimmer.
"Isn't it lovely?" Akuma held out the knife at them. "I made it myself you know. Made it from my own blood. To spill the blood of others. Quite painful it was, making the knife," he winced. "Just a simple spell and quick swipe with it," he went on, grinning, "and I got all the lifeforce I needed to extend my own.
But, like you said, Watari-san, its potency is getting weaker. More and more I have to rely on the soul itself for power instead of just blood." A look of mad anger then slipped its mask over him and he leaned forward, nearly spitting out his next words.
"I, I who have nearly attained the goal of immortality is now dying! Dying! All those years and effort and what do I get? Reduced to a pitiful soul- sucker like a common demon! I, who have transcended beyond any human or devil!"
"And I guess that's why all the games then? One last play before the curtains fall on you?" Tatsumi asked.
It was disconcerting how easily Akuma could wear one expression and in the next second, discard it for another. It was like he wasn't even really feeling those emotions he portrayed. Rather, it was as though they were merely masks to be worn for the occasion. Now, he smiled easily as though talking to an old friend.
"Well, I have to go out with a bang of course! A fitting end for one as I. If I have to die, I might as well take Death with me, kicking and screaming to the grave."
"There will be no grave for you." With that, Tatsumi tensed himself and started to rise to his feet, joined by the others, prepared for an all-out attack.
But he couldn't move. Not even an inch. Glowing on the hardwood floor like personal spotlights, was that familiar and hated pentagram shining from under each of their chairs; five magical cages. What surprised the secretary though, was the fact that the pentagram had any power in the first place.
"You're wondering why your spell didn't work?" Akuma grinned a Cheshire grin. "Try looking at the ofudas the five of you had stick on against your backrest," he said helpfully. "Oh, oops, I forgot you can't move a muscle can you?" Akuma was totally enjoying himself now, a beautiful look of mock sympathy the mask he currently wore. "Did you really think I expected you to come waltzing in here without any sort of counter-spell for my pentagrams? I may be evil, but I don't underestimate my opponents.
The ofudas have all turned to ash. The very chairs you sit on have been built to destroy such spells in the first place. And now, I've been neglecting my poor Kyo, gentlemen. He'll be desolate."
The blood knife was carefully set down on the floor and like a graceful lover, he pulled the barely conscious Kyo into an embrace, cuddling the boy close and placing a gentle kiss on those slack lips.
A sound of pure rage escaped Takashi's throat, bursting out like a wild animal and ringing across the room. "Don't you dare touch him!" Takashi screamed, straining at his invisible bonds. But all the shouting and screaming in the world could do nothing as they stared in bound horror as Akuma placed a hand at the tie holding Kyo's yukata closed. They played teasingly around the simple knot and soft yank was enough to loosen the tie, sending it falling to the floor.
The white cotton yukata now lay open, baring a smooth expanse of chest and stomach as the owner of that exposed flesh lie in unresisting silence, the now deep indigo eyes blank and empty.
"Kyo-chan," a soft whisper. "You are so beautiful. Such beauty shouldn't go to waste, ne?
It should be tasted and enjoyed. . . by everyone."
And those near black eyes stayed mercifully empty.
________________________________________________________________________