A/N: Attention fellow friends. I have been entrusted by Sakusha-san to say the following words:
To all non-yaoi supporters: beware because all yaoi supporters will corrupt your minds and do stuff while cackling evilly. . . .er. . .yeah.
I take no responsibility for that. She wanted me to put it in there. But then, Sakusha-san, if they're in here reading this, then they're yaoi supporters anyway. . . .
Literary Eagle: whoever said that Kyo was going to get out of this mess anyway? ^^
Shaynie: Oh, you're just as bad as the rest of them. Hisoka-angst? What should I do? Reveal that Tsuzuki is actually a demon prince and Kyo is his betrothed? Hohoho! You want other-people-besides-Kyo-&-Taka-angst, you gotta give me the goods to work it.
miZu-chan: That was very bad of Sakusha to give you spoilers. But why did you listen anyway? Hehehe, hey, I heard you're doing the plushies too?? Cool!
Tracye1014: um. . .unexpected stuff. 'Kay. Er. . . . .what else should I make unexpected? Hmm. . .*mumbles to self* maybe I can turn Watari completely female and have her/him fall in love with Tsuzuki thus producing a sick four-sided love triangle and in the interim, make Hisoka-angst as people keep on pushing me to. . . .hmm. . . .
Warning: Not nice stuff in the chapter. Nope. Nu-uh.
Disclaimer: Standard applies.
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Chapter 14
His Silent Scream
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The apartment was spacious, filled with expensive furniture and thick, shaggy carpets that blanketed the wood laminated floor. Kyo found himself sitting down gingerly on the edge of a sofa. Ayame had retreated to the kitchen to, of all things, make tea.
Maybe she thinks a pot of tea makes her less scarier, Kyo thought numbly. The whole cloaked-in-darkness thing didn't really sit too well with him in his currently agitated state. It made him want to reach for his 'fudas and do some serious exorcising. Trouble was, there couldn't be. She wasn't possessed. She just is.
Dark.
Evil.
And still having a crush on him it seems.
Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.
"Here you go, Kyo-san," Ayame said cheerfully, setting down the tray on the coffee table. She gave him a smile as she held the sugar pot. "How many lumps do you take? One or two?"
"One, please," he automatically replied and stopped. He was drinking tea with a girl, woman, who radiated evil like she was the incarnation of Evil Santa and he wanted only one lump of sugar with his tea.
He didn't pick up his cup, rather, tensing up as Ayame took a seat next to him. She didn't seem to mind that as she took a delicate sip from her own cup. Ayame gave an appreciative sigh as she drank and shot him a smile.
"The tea's not poisoned you know," she rebuked him gently.
Drink, it'll make you feel better, I promise. He couldn't help the shudder that ran through him as old memories resurfaced. Firmly pushing away the déjà vu and recollection, he sat up straighter and glared at Ayame.
"What have you done with Takashi?"
Ayame blinked. "Not much really. I wanted to talk to you about some personal matters but I felt he might get in the way. He's perfectly fine. Indisposed, but fine." She smiled again.
Kyo fought to keep his raging anger under control. He needed to keep calm as long as possible. He had to extract any information that he could before Ayame lost her mask of congeniality. Kyo seriously doubted whether he could take her on by himself.
"Where. Is. He?" he bit off each word with the least venom he could manage.
Ayame didn't seem to mind. In fact, by the slight twitching at the corner of her mouth, she found it amusing.
"I never knew you were this impatient," she mused. "Or that you can be remarkably impolite when you put your mind to it. Very well then," she waved a hand negligently.
Kyo cringed back, expecting an attack but instead, the giant screen tv that nearly took up all of the opposite wall flickered to life. The image was fuzzy at first, snowy white haze and lines that steadied and cleared gradually. Kyo found himself looking at a rather tranquil scene. He didn't understand at first and looked closer.
It was a large room, probably due to the huge glass tank of water that took up fully half the space. No lights were lit in the room and the only source of illumination came from the tank. The water appeared to give off its own light, a cold, sterile white-blue that gave a harsh glow to everything it touched.
Including the body that hung motionless in the water.
He recognized the dark grey shirt. He had ironed it himself that morning. So were the black slacks. The jacket was floating around the body, looking incongruously like a buoy. A buoy that served no purpose as the sensei floated in the tank like a specimen preserved in a jar.
Red filled his vision. He was so angry, so furious, that he barely registered shooting straight to his feet. His hands had wrapped themselves around Ayame's slender white throat as he propelled her up from the sofa and slammed her against a wall where she dangled a few inches off the floor. A snarl was working its way from his own throat as he tightened his grip.
"You bitch!"
She was taking the whole strangulation thing quite well, not even flinching as he tried to crush her windpipe, his earlier promise to himself to try and extract as much info from her as possible forgotten in the heat of the moment. Pure energy crackled like lightning around him and he was aware of a strange heat in his eyes. A chance reflection from a nearby framed picture showed that his eyes were glowing.
Strange that.
Before he could kill her though, she flicked her hand again, a somewhat bored gesture and Kyo found himself flying across the room to land with a solid thud against the far wall. He slid to the floor with an "Oof!" and took a moment to clear his ringing head.
"Did you really think the reason I did not mark this place with wards to blanket your powers because I thought you were too much of a gentleman to hurt a lady?" Ayame had crouched before him, a wry smile on her flawless face. "It's because I know that you can't beat me. Remember that before you make any other stupid moves."
Kyo glared at her, rather than dignifying it with a reply but as her eyebrows lifted in enquiry, he grudgingly nodded.
"Good." She dusted her hands off briskly and offered one to him to help him rise. "Let's go sit on the sofa shall we? It's more conducive to strike bargains and talk when one is comfortable."
He took the proffered hand and allowed Ayame to lead him back to the sofa. The giant tv still showed the same scene and he gritted his teeth, trying to tear his eyes away from the gruesome sight and focus it on Ayame. Whatever it was Ayame planned, the major move would be played out now. She had shown her bargaining chip; now it was time to make the offer.
"You knew all along about us then, didn't you." His voice was hard and his eyes were colder.
"Of course. Did you really think I'd let you go, just like that? But then," she added, "I didn't expect you to become a Shinigami. . .but it all worked out quite well. I didn't expect him either but as you can see, I managed to work my way around it." She smiled.
"What's to stop me from killing you anyway right now?" Kyo snarled. "You may think you're stronger than me but I have a pretty good incentive to turn you into a mangled pulp."
At his words, Ayame actually flinched, albeit slightly. No one, not even Hikaru, had ever seen him lose his temper or actually used a harsh tone, much less a harsh word to anyone in his entire life. Coupled it with his pale eyes and black hair, Ayame had to admit; he looked pretty forbidding.
"Seriously, Kyo-san," she smiled placatingly. "A Shinigami can't die that easily. Get him out of the water and he'll resuscitate soon enough. Besides, if you kill me, you'll never find him."
Kyo narrowed his eyes, which had stopped glowing, Ayame noted absently, and asked, "Why not?"
"The wards I put up over that place are strong. Not even my death will break it."
"You're lying." There was a note of uncertainty though in the statement.
"I am?" she raised a fine eyebrow. "Can you really take that chance?"
Kyo fidgeted slightly but made no answer. That was an answer enough. He could not take the chance. It was too risky.
"Besides," here, she made another brief gesture and on the screen, a demon ambled into view. It had a vague reptilian shape with salivating jaws of needle-sharp teeth and a lightly flicking tongue. What had Kyo's attention was that each of its claws were foot-long blades. "If I die, or I give the signal, the demon will make sure that your sensei stays dead. As powerful a Shinigami is, I'm pretty sure it's hard to regenerate when you're head is missing."
"You fucking bitch," the words were hissed in pure rage and the pale blue eyes started to glow again. Before he could do something stupid again and ruin everything that she planned so meticulously, she held a hand up.
"Hear me out, Kyo-san," she smiled, though it was hard when that much rage was focused directly on to you. She must have gotten through however for Kyo lowered his hackles and once again, the glow died out. She really had to check later how he could make his eyes do that and whether there was any significance to it. It was scary. And that was coming from her.
Ignoring his blanching or the look of disgust that stole across his face, Ayame cradled his hands in her own and looked deep into his eyes, trying to impress the sincerity of her words.
"I love you, Kyo-san," she said softly. "I have always loved you. Even before you saved me from those bastards. I wake up everyday with one thought only; that I can see you and hear you laugh and watch you smile. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to find out that you've died? I wanted to die myself," she added hoarsely.
A muscle clenched in his jaw but the hardness around his eyes softened slightly at her words. Until his gaze rested again on the screen. This time, there was no mistaking the hatred in his eyes.
"All I want, is to be with you. That's all I ask," she implored, holding tightly to his hands.
Kyo looked at her then, really looked at her and he saw something that made him set aside a bit of his rage. "You're asking the impossible, Ayame," he said softly. "I don't love you and I am a Shinigami. Even if I wanted to, I can't. JuuOhCho and Enma-Daioh would hunt me down as a renegade. I don't think even you could stand up to them."
"But why?" she cried out, tears sliding down her cheeks to stain the silk blouse. "Why don't you love me? What is it that I don't have that he does? I'd do anything for you! I would die for you!"
"Ayame, please," despite everything that had happened, Kyo found himself shaking off her death grip on his hands to cradle her face. A thumb wiped away her tears as he tried to reason with her. "I don't know why, but I can't love you. All I know is that I love Takashi. I have always loved Takashi. Without him, I am nothing," he whispered.
She stilled under his words, her eyes closing in resignation. The tears flowed silently for a while until with an impatient hand, she wiped them away. An awkward silence hung over them as Ayame stared down into her lap, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. Kyo looked around and wondered what the hell was he supposed to do next? Should he politely ask her? I'm sorry Ayame but since I've broken your heart again, for the second time, can you please release my husband from his watery grave? We might be back again to have some words about your whole evil aura thing or the Control and Regulations Division would stop by. Can't really say. Oh, by the way, can you call off your Freddy Krueger lookalike pet so I can retrieve Takashi?
It was simply splendid his lines. He wondered where he should start.
He was startled when she placed cool palms on either side of his face. A questioning look in his eyes, he didn't move away as Ayame scooted nearer to him, though he had tensed up again.
"Can you give me something, Kyo-san?" she asked softly.
"Give what?" he asked warily.
"A kiss," she smiled wistfully. "I've never been kissed by someone I love before. I want to feel what it's like."
He opened his mouth to say something, his eyes straying to the side, the tv screen still showing its gruesome image. The demon was flexing its fingers, claws scraping against claws.
"Please," she added. "Just this one thing and I promise, I swear to you, I'll release Takashi. I won't harm him."
A silent minute, as Kyo debated internally, she waited patiently, her eyes never straying away from his face. Finally, he sighed and some of the tenseness went out from his shoulders.
"You swear?" he asked, and for a moment, just a very brief moment, he looked old. Tired.
"I swear," she smiled. It wasn't exactly the best of circumstances to be getting a kiss from the love of your life but Ayame had long resigned herself to getting what she could get. It would be enough. For now.
Kyo seemed to feel that if he was going to do this, he might as well do it the best that he could. Leaning forward, he captured her face with his hands again. Heart beating madly, she closed her eyes expectantly. This was the moment she had been waiting for her whole life. There was the barest touch of his lips against her. A butterfly-soft kiss and she leaned eagerly into it.
This is. . .different. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss a girl. It seemed all his life, there was only Takashi and no one else. Nanako. . .with Takashi, he was used to the older man taking the lead. It had to do with the whole 'you seme me uke' thing. Not that he minded. But a girl's lips. . .were somehow, infinitely softer, more pliant under his own. Ayame appeared to enjoy it to. Almost without him realizing it, she had slipped her tongue past his lips, teasing him gently and he felt a sudden flare of desire. Which he quickly stomped.
"Ayame," he murmured. "We have to stop," he whispered against her mouth and she gave a small groan.
"Please," she begged. "Just a little more. Please?"
Sighing slightly, he took the lead again, nibbling gently on her lower lip. I can't believe how much effort I'm putting into this, was the wry thought that flitted across his mind. Ayame didn't seem to mind. She was responding enthusiastically back, her tongue once again slipping inside his mouth.
Really likes French kissing, this girl, but his amusement died an instant death when he felt something small and slightly slick slipping inside his mouth. Almost like a pill. Before he could spit it out though, one of Ayame's hand was clamped firmly beneath his chin, forcing his mouth closed as her other hand pulled the back of his hair with such force that he found himself lying back on the sofa.
That instant of surprise was all she needed. Before he could buck her off, Ayame had straddled his hips, still forcing his mouth closed. She was extremely strong for a girl. He worked his throat spasmodically, trying hard not to swallow but moving so fast that it was nearly a blur, she released his chin and before he could move, slammed her fist into his stomach.
He choked, and the pill slid down his throat.
Harsh breathing was the only sound that broke the deathly silence that filled the apartment. Eyes wide with anger, Kyo stared at her with the hatred increased tenfold. She was still straddling him, her hand still enmeshed in his hair.
"What did you do to me?" he whispered menacingly.
She didn't bother to answer him. Instead, she leaned down and captured his mouth again in a bruising kiss. Kyo tried to fight back, to throw her off but alarmingly, he couldn't make his hands move the way he wanted them to. Instead of grasping her by the shoulders to throw her off, or at the very least, try to choke her again, his hands were roaming all over her silk-covered back in a soft, lover-like touch.
His harsh breathing had changed to that of desire, one that was quickly mounting as he kissed her lips, her forehead, her closed eyes and her neck. His arousal was pushing painfully against his jeans, begging for release and Ayame rubbed her body against it, increasing the slow fire that had started to burn deep within him.
No, how could a pill work this fast?! It's not possible! He tried frantically to make his body stop responding, to stop himself from flipping her over and pinning her against the sofa, still hungrily kissing each other but his body was someone else's, for all the attention it paid to his shrieking mind.
As the seconds ticked by, he lost more and more control over his body until only his mind was left free of the pill's effect. And all his mind could do was batter itself against invisible walls. Begging himself to stop, to not continue. But even as his mind screamed, his body longed only to make love.
"Let's go to the bedroom," Ayame whispered in between kisses. "It's more comfortable."
With a fixed smile, Kyo obediently followed her tugging hand. She led him to a closed door and as it opened, dim lamps flickered into life, lighting the room with a soft amber glow that was a perfect ambience for lovers. Smiling again, she released his hand to work on the pearl buttons of her shirt. Kyo kept his eyes fixed on her as his own hands quickly divested himself of the turtleneck. Silk and cotton fell to the floor in a tangled heap as he pushed her on to the bed. He pinned her easily with his legs and captured her delicate wrists in his hands, forcing them away and to her sides. He took her moment of pure helplessness to kiss every bare inch of her skin, a devoted worshipper to her body.
Did you know, when you're screaming inside your own head, no one can hear you.
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It's amazing what that little pill can do, Ayame mused to herself. Their lovemaking had been the best she had ever had; pure carnal pleasure coupled with the fact of doing it with the person she had been obsessed it for most of her teenage life. Such little details like he had done it due to the influence of the pill; a potent combination of herbs and subtly woven magic designed to heightened desire and suppress the mind, was after the fact. One can't have everything, after all.
Kyo now lay sleeping by her side, eyes closed in a deep sleep and his bare torso twisted in the sheets. After having spent himself, he had quickly fallen into the near coma, induced by the pill as well and she had spent the better part of a half-hour just staring dreamily at him, memorizing every inch of the face and body that had haunted her nights. She trailed light fingers over his bare chest, marveling at the tautness of the muscles beneath and the silken smooth feel of his skin. Being a Shinigami does have its perks, she admitted silently to herself. It had preserved his body in its most perfect state.
Her fingers hit ridged skin. The faint white scar over his heart.
"My poor Kyo," she whispered. "He hurt you so badly, didn't he?"
He didn't answer her. Just as well really, she could not afford for him to wake up now. It might be unpleasant for him.
"Mistress," the voice was a chilly hiss, like water thrown on hot coals and a pair of yellow cat's eyes gleamed from a dark corner. "You must hurry. Do not dally further. The effects would wear off soon."
"There is no need to remind me, Shirnak," she murmured and the cat's eyes retreated further into the dark corner. After a slight hesitation, it closed briefly, the demon making a hasty obeisance.
"Forgive my impatience mistress, but I must urge caution. We do not know precisely the effects of the potion on a Shinigami. The spell will only work while his essence is still hot within you as well."
She sighed petulantly and sat up on the bed, not caring in the least as the covers pooled on her lap, revealing her nakedness to the demon that waited. The demon itself had other things to worry about than the naked flesh of its mistress. Most urgent business that must be conducted as quickly as possible.
"The knife then," she snapped. "Quickly."
Shirnak, the demon, finally stepped out of its corner and with a bow, handed the object to its mistress. She took the proffered knife and held it up to the light. In the amber glow of the bedside lamps, it shone a deep, rusted brown. Like a knife that was dipped in old blood and left to dry. Not surprising really. It was a blood-knife after all.
"So this is the knife that. . .Akuma," her lips curled into a sneer at the mention of the name, "used to harvest soul energy?"
"Yes mistress. And as you would no doubt remember, this is also the knife that the Shinigami used to perform the spell of unbinding--"
"Tainting it with his own blood thus linking him with the bastard through the curse that was cast, yes, yes, I know," she snapped impatiently. "Isn't there any other way to do this?"
Shirnak shifted uneasily in its corner, the gleam in its eyes flaring slightly before dimming to a dull phosphorescence. "You know there is no other way mistress. Are you perhaps. . .feeling sorry?" there was the faintest note of malicious amusement in its voice, coupled with a tinge of predatory eagerness.
Again, Ayame reminded herself that when dealing with demons, one had to exercise caution every step of the way. Their kind looked upon promises as nothing more than a mere inconvenience that was sidestepped when opportunity presented itself. The strong shall live and the weak shall die.
"Of course I'm feeling sorry, you fool!" she added a biting note of acid into her tone, which instantly turned into a purr as she gazed hungrily at Kyo. "He's so beautiful. It's a shame to mar his beauty like that."
A long minute was spent in tense silence on Shirnak's part as it watched its mistress trail the blood-knife softly over the Shinigami's skin. The sharp point danced lightly, with just enough pressure to almost, but not quite, indent the skin. Sometimes, and one of those times was now, Shirnak felt that dealing with the generals of Makai was infinitely more pleasurable than dealing with this woman. She had the power and the hunger for more power, a trademark of demons everywhere but with it, running just shy beneath the surface, was a river of madness that hinted strongly of blood and death. And the capacity to disregard utterly the consequences of her actions.
Really, even a demon had an ultimate purpose in its life. She, the one called Ayame had none except for the poor fool that even now lay helpless in her snare.
"Begin, Shirnak." Ayame had thrown off her dreamy contemplation and now sat straight. Her hair glimmered like bronze in the light and there was a shine to her skin, an inner glow that heightened her beauty to something perfect and cold. Setting aside the knife carefully, she cradled Kyo close to her bosom, as though mothering a child. Brushing back soft black bangs, she placed a tender kiss on his pale cheeks.
Shirnak meanwhile, scurried out from its corner to scuttle quickly around the bed. With a little magic, the bed slid smoothly out from against the wall, leaving space for Shirnak to do the necessary workings. Within minutes, it had a perfect double layer circle and pentagram glowing red-hot on the wooden floors.
"The construct is ready, mistress."
With a last tender kiss, she reached out for the blood-knife. Grasping the hilt firmly, she placed the knife point first above the old scar with the breadth of the knife running crosswise.
"In the name of Ragna, let blood call to blood."
The knife began to shimmer like a light struck oil puddle; glimmers of dirty rainbow colours flashed briefly and disappeared. A moment later, it emanated a steady, dull red glow.
"By blood you were bound and by blood shall you be bound again.
In the name of Baal, all that was and all that is.
Memories past like dust shall be and memories old shall never be.
In the name of Aljunnu, hear my words and speak them true.
Blinded then are the eyes of Kali and blinded then are your eyes to the truth.
In the name of She who was First, let blood call to blood.
I bind you to me and I to you. Blood to blood are then the chains that be."
As the incantation drew to a close, the knife flared a blinding red and Ayame raised it high.
"I love you, Kyo."
And plunged it deep into his heart.
Hot blood gushed from the wound to spill over her hands and staining them. As the knife pierced his flesh, Kyo's eyes snapped open. The pain had snaked through his enspelled sleep and he bucked wildly under her arms.
He screamed.
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~to be continued~
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A/N: Levity seems to be out of order after ending this chapter on such a note. So there. Get the Angst-o-Meter out. It ain't stopping yet.