Disclaimer: If wishes were fishes...
Warnings: AU, Shounen Ai
Pairings: Touma+Seiji, Shuu+Shin, Ryo+Nasuti
Summary: Touma and his friends make up a secret group dedicated to the protection of Japan. While out one night, Touma stumbles across something that will change both his and his friends' lives...
A/N: Most of this is flashback.



Half-breed
by Amyeyl

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Chapter 4

The boy opened his eyes slowly and was surprised to find that he couldn't see anything. He tried to sit up but in the process banged his head against something very hard but soft and slippery. He rubbed at his aching forehead before cautiously lifting his hand to explore whatever was above him.

He pressed against it lightly and was confused and how light and fluffy it felt. Skimming his fingers over it, he was reminded of the feeling of silk. He laid his hand flat against the surface and pressed harder. It gave way easily at first, but quickly he was met with resistance.

He squirmed a bit, and came to the conclusion that whatever he was lying on top of was similar to that which was above him. A little more experimentation proved that the walls, which were very close, were the same. Wherever he was, he didn't like it.

Both hands pressed against the low ceiling this time, and he pushed with all his might. He pushed until his arms hurt. He pushed until his arms fell limp to his sides. He wondered how long he'd been pushing. It must have been a long while to make his arms feel the way they did, and all for nothing. The ceiling hadn't moved a centimeter. The boy was beginning to feel afraid. He lay in the darkness, unsure of what to do.

The next thing he knew, the ceiling was being moved. The light that streamed in was bright and hurt his eyes. How long had he been trapped in the dark? From the way his stomach complained, he decided it had been a long while.

The light was harsh and flooded his world as the ceiling was fully removed. He raised his arms to cover his eyes but they were quickly jerked away. Looking about wildly, he saw that two large men had taken a hold of him on either side. They pulled him up roughly and dragged him out of his prison. He was dropped onto the floor, and the men moved a few steps away from him.

He tried to stand, but his body protested and he fell to the floor again. He looked wildly about the room, taking in everything he could without being able to move much. Over his shoulder, he saw what it was that had kept him in the dark for so long.

It was a coffin.

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"You're a vampire?!" Touma jumped up quickly from the couch where he'd been sitting and dove across the room. He grabbed at the cross that remained on the mantle at all times and held it protectively in front of him. With his other hand, he fumbled for the knife that usually rested near it.

Seiji remained seated, a sad, faraway look in his eyes.

"I'm not a vampire," it was stated softly, a little unsurely, "at least, I don't think I am." Touma didn't move from where he stood or pause in his search.

"Prove it."

"How?" Touma's fingers circled around not the dagger he sought, but a small vial. He smiled triumphantly and tossed it to the blonde. Seiji stared at it curiously, looking for a label of some sort.

"What is this?" he asked, when none was to be found.

"Holy water."

"What do you want me to do with it?"

"Pour it on your hand." Seiji looked at him strangely, but did as he requested. Nothing happened.

"Is that all?" He was looking at his hand strangely now. "How does pouring water onto my hand prove anything?"

"It's not just water," Touma murmured, lowering the cross and inching closer. "It's holy water. It 's supposed to burn vampires."

"Oh."

Touma moved back to the couch, the cross dangling at his side but not gone. When the blonde didn't recoil from its proximity, he sat back down; albeit a little further away.

"Go on?"

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"Did you enjoy your trip?"

The blonde whirled around to face the sound of the voice. His quick movements unbalanced him and he almost fell over. The voice chuckled and earned itself a glare.

"My dear Seiji, you haven't changed a bit." The voice belonged to a tall, white haired man. At least the hair seemed white. The room was so bright that he had to squint, and he couldn't make out the man's features. He looked around briefly, waiting for this Seiji to respond. No one moved, except the man who had spoken before. He stepped closer, before laughing again.

"Don't tell me you don't know who you are." The blonde glared again and the man laughed harder. "You don't! He doesn't remember who he is!" The man moved to the larger man to the blonde's left, a smile still on his face.

"Do you believe it, Buka?" The man in question laughed nervously and nodded.*

"That's real funny, him not remembering who he is. Real funny."

"It is, it is indeed." He patted the man on the arm and after a brief pause, moved away. He scooped the blonde up and took a few steps back. He nodded to the other man and turned to leave the room with the semi-struggling boy held tightly in his arms.

Buka remained where he was, the smile gone now and replaced with a look of terror. He smelled the smoke before he actually saw it curl up from his sleeve.

"A-Arago-sama!!"

"Goodbye, Buka." Arago closed the door on the man's screams just as he burst into flames.





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* Buka means subordinate. I was too lazy to come up with a decent name for someone who's just gonna die anyway.