The Devil's Workshop
MysticShadowWanderer
*****
Chapter Sixteen: The Meaning of Pain
Battousai never wanted to wake up from this. If he could spend the rest of his life with her lying close to him and still be able to dream of the blood and killing he so studiously dedicated his being to, he would take the chance without second thought. If he could sleep forever, he knew now that he would. He was aware of the fact that he was asleep at the moment, instinctively he knew when what he was seeing wasn't reality, but he would have given anything to yield that, and spend eternity dreaming in silence. Death, he realized slowly, the mere thought yanking him to a more conscious state of mind. He wanted to die with Kaoru in his arms.
He couldn't decide what that meant. For once he had something wonderful in his life, and he wanted to end it? The need to slit his wrists came on and off for him, something that plagued the mind of one fated to wander. Perhaps he felt such need to die simply because he had Kaoru and he didn't want to see himself lose her, as he inevitably would, whether it be by her choice to leave or by her death. But if he died, what would happen to her? True, her life would be better without him, but she had told him herself that she loved him, and he couldn't break her like that. Still, it was hard to deny the blissful thought of sleeping until the world ended. At least he could always have her in his dreams.
Acknowledging his desire, he began to attempt to suppress the longing by once again contemplating his existence. Sometimes, now included, he wondered if he really was, if he ever had been. Suicidal thoughts always brought about the same question: Who was he at the core of his being? Perhaps this was all a sick dream that he could never wake from. At times he began to seriously believe that, but pain taught him otherwise. Every once in a while, self-inflicted pain just wasn't enough to prove to himself that he indeed was real. Now was quickly converting to one of those times, but he tried with everything he had to ignore the feeling and focus on Kaoru in his embrace. In truth, he'd never had anyone to teach him what existence was.
Now he couldn't help but think of how much Kaoru meant to him. 'You make me feel again,' he'd told her. It was true, for the first time since he'd killed his adoptive mother, he knew how it felt to care deeply for someone, to love and trust. Yes, it scared him, but he still liked it. He desperately hoped that this wasn't some cruel dream, a figment of nothingness. How could he be sure anymore? He sat up with some difficulty and shifted his left arm into the semi-light coming from the moon. Faint white scars were scattered up and down the tender flesh there; he lightly ran his fingers over them as if to remind himself that they were there. Pain was but a fleeting memory, glaringly obvious while you were consumed by it, but distant and hard to comprehend when you tried to remember how it felt. He slowly, wincing at the tug on the wound in his shoulder, reached for his wakizashi where it was lying near the futon. Its weight was so familiar in his hand, too familiar for comfort anymore. Drawing a short, thin line across his wrist, he stared at the blood as if he couldn't believe it was his. It wasn't much, and somehow wasn't enough tonight. He wanted to know who he was in relation to other beings. Just because he could inflict pain on himself didn't make any of this real. He wondered what pain really was.
"Kaoru," he whispered, shaking her with rising despair. "Kaoru wake up, I need you."
Hearing those words somehow set off an alarm in her head, he had never said that, and his tone was frightening. Something was wrong. She sat up and rubbed a hand across her eyes, adjusting slowly to the darkness. Looking at him questioningly, she noticed the trickle of blood that flowed down his arm. It was almost spellbinding, the contrast the crimson made with the paleness of his skin, but she tore her gaze away to settle it on his eyes. She didn't say a word.
"Kaoru, please," he said, putting his wakizashi in her hand and closing her fingers around it. He paused for several moments, and then continued in a voice low and silky. "Cut me, love."
Her eyes grew larger, the suggestion was daringly wrong and somehow, coming from him, darkly erotic. "You want me to... what?"
"Cut me," he repeated, and took her wrist gently, guiding her hand to press the sharp blade to his wrist.
"Battousai, no," she stammered. "This is crazy, absolutely insane. I can't do that!"
"Yes, you can," he insisted in a whisper. "I need you to. Please."
"But... Battousai... why?"
"Just trust me. I need this, you have to help me."
Help him. The words seemed so foreign. There was no joke in his voice, he was serious and convincing. She didn't understand it, but the way he said it made her defense waver. If he really needed it, could she bring herself to do it? But how could it help anything?
"Kaoru," he said desperately. "Gods... please Kaoru, I'm begging you."
Begging? He was serious. Battousai did not beg. She swallowed hard and nodded, her hands shaking. Carefully taking her hand in his, he showed her just where he wanted her to place the blade, whispering instructions on how much pressure to apply. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she slid the wakizashi down his arm, avoiding the vein with as much tender care as she possibly could have while ripping his skin apart and spilling his blood. When she could no longer force herself to hurt him, she dropped the blade and stared into his eyes, shaking and not able to get her question out at all. A bitter smile of demonic satisfaction was on his face, his eyes blazed with an untamable fire that Kaoru knew could not be put out.
He lifted his wrist to her lips, silently asking what she had never thought she would or could do in all her life. But something about him was so compelling, so wickedly and savagely commanding that she found herself opening her mouth to draw in his blood. At first she nearly gagged, it was an unnatural and revolting taste to her, but slowly the feeling faded. He had his eyes closed, and looked as if he might cry, if he could, but didn't say anything. It scared her when she began to savor the taste of him, his metallic-tinged essence. Something about it held a sweetness, she could taste love and sorrow both.
'This is insanity,' she thought. 'You can't taste those things, not in blood.' Yet her heart was telling her otherwise. The blood flow was slowing now, which was a comfort and, shockingly to her, a disappointment. She watched him as she licked the wound clean and he torpidly opened his heavy eyelids. The amber that burned underneath them was fierce and wolfish, but it didn't frighten her. Not anymore.
"Gods, Kaoru," he groaned as he pulled her to him. "You were pure... I'm so sorry."
She knew how greatly she'd changed since she'd first met him, but she didn't regret it. It hurt her that he did. "No," she replied, flicking her tongue out and cleaning the blood from her lips to relish in his essence. "Don't be. Things like this are meant to be, Battousai. We can't change them, we can't be sorry." She paused, not knowing what else to say.
"You're too perfect, too good for me," he whispered in a rush. "Too much of what I need so badly."
"Never too much," she said quietly, picking up his wakizashi from where she'd dropped it and handing it back to him. He looked at her in curiosity. Just how much had she enjoyed that, and what exactly did that mean?
She didn't need him to ask to know what he was saying. "I love you." It wasn't really necessary to say it again, she knew, but it seemed like the right thing to say at a time such as this. "Whatever you need me to do, I will. I know it's important to you. I don't know why, but if you need it that badly..."
Battousai captured her lips in a violent kiss, which was proving to be difficult with his injured shoulder. Finally he released her, and they both gasped for breath. "Sweet goddess above, what I wouldn't do for you," he whispered as he fingered the hilt of the wakizashi that he'd never let fall. Her eyes trailed down to his action.
"What do you want Battousai?" she asked in a low tone.
"You, all of you," he replied slowly. "I want to know that this is real, that you're real. That I'm real."
She didn't fully understand what the meaning of his words were, being only seventeen and always having had something to occupy her mind, she'd never really given a huge amount of thought to existence. It seemed now that she would have to. She took a moment to piece her words together.
"Do what you must," she said. "I trust you."
The look Battousai gave her was so intense that she could feel herself melting into him. Passion, gratitude, desire, sorrow, lust, and... love. All of it was there. He cautiously, as if afraid she would change her mind if he made any sudden moves, took her wrist in one hand. Not wanting to hurt her, too much at least, made him slow and gentle. He didn't press hard, and left only a shallow cut on her wrist. It was just enough for blood to flow down her arm. She flinched at the feel of metal to flesh and nearly cried out at the stinging pain as he sliced her skin, but wouldn't allow herself to call his name and ask him to stop. He needed it, and, deep in her heart, she did too, she just couldn't understand at the moment.
"Sorry, love, sorry," he repeated over and over until she silenced him.
"It's alright." Her words were so quiet that he barely heard her.
She understood him? Her tone implied that she could tell what this meant to him, though he was unsure how much it was helping her. Whatever her reasoning, he couldn't stop now. Raising her hand to his mouth, he tenderly kissed each finger tip before lightly tugging the new wound to his lips. Unlike Kaoru, he didn't hesitate to suck covetously at her blood, whimpering slightly as he drank it quickly. He swirled his tongue about it to both sooth and savor the hurt that he could sense in her. All his life he had worked with pain, loving it for the raw reality of the sensation. He had never shared like this before, never been purposely cut with the intention of helping him. Though he'd shared her body, he'd never shared anyone's soul like this. It was beautiful, though in a way that most people would find horrifying.
Kaoru lifted her other hand to stroke his hair as he dragged his tongue over the cut. It was comforting, almost, she realized, the warmth of his tongue and mouth on the burn left by the blade. His breath was soft upon her arm, his lips a lingering caress. It was a sweet and sickening satisfaction that she couldn't explain. She'd never considered just how intoxicating and thrilling it could be to do something that seemed so completely illicit.
After a while, she moved nearer to him and gently guided him to lie back down. By the feel of his skin, she could tell his fever was waning, but she wanted him to rest. Being up so late into the night couldn't be conducive to his recovery.
Battousai's mouth only left her wrist after covering it with loving kisses. He laid on his back and held her freshly cut arm to his chest. Kaoru stroked his skin with her fingers, coaxing him to return to his sleep. Ignoring the single tear that ran down his cheek, he closed his eyes and murmured to her before letting himself drift away.
"I love you, Kaoru."
*****
A/N: All you impressionable young peoples who shouldn't be reading this but are.... don't go out and start slicing up yourself/other people. Just thought I might say that it's a hard habit to break and not a good solution. Ok. Now that the public service announcement is done (Wow... picture me doing actual PSAs... the public would be screwed)... Wasn't that fun? I've taken a major turn back into the dark part of this story. Personally, I love the idea of some Battousai-blood-drinking. Ok, I know this is definately not everyone's style, but... well.... it's my fic, so I can write whatever my little heart desires ^_^ Yeah, this chapter was short, but it's a lot of weirdness to take in, and it's pretty hard to write, believe it or not. Whee!
MysticShadowWanderer
*****
Chapter Sixteen: The Meaning of Pain
Battousai never wanted to wake up from this. If he could spend the rest of his life with her lying close to him and still be able to dream of the blood and killing he so studiously dedicated his being to, he would take the chance without second thought. If he could sleep forever, he knew now that he would. He was aware of the fact that he was asleep at the moment, instinctively he knew when what he was seeing wasn't reality, but he would have given anything to yield that, and spend eternity dreaming in silence. Death, he realized slowly, the mere thought yanking him to a more conscious state of mind. He wanted to die with Kaoru in his arms.
He couldn't decide what that meant. For once he had something wonderful in his life, and he wanted to end it? The need to slit his wrists came on and off for him, something that plagued the mind of one fated to wander. Perhaps he felt such need to die simply because he had Kaoru and he didn't want to see himself lose her, as he inevitably would, whether it be by her choice to leave or by her death. But if he died, what would happen to her? True, her life would be better without him, but she had told him herself that she loved him, and he couldn't break her like that. Still, it was hard to deny the blissful thought of sleeping until the world ended. At least he could always have her in his dreams.
Acknowledging his desire, he began to attempt to suppress the longing by once again contemplating his existence. Sometimes, now included, he wondered if he really was, if he ever had been. Suicidal thoughts always brought about the same question: Who was he at the core of his being? Perhaps this was all a sick dream that he could never wake from. At times he began to seriously believe that, but pain taught him otherwise. Every once in a while, self-inflicted pain just wasn't enough to prove to himself that he indeed was real. Now was quickly converting to one of those times, but he tried with everything he had to ignore the feeling and focus on Kaoru in his embrace. In truth, he'd never had anyone to teach him what existence was.
Now he couldn't help but think of how much Kaoru meant to him. 'You make me feel again,' he'd told her. It was true, for the first time since he'd killed his adoptive mother, he knew how it felt to care deeply for someone, to love and trust. Yes, it scared him, but he still liked it. He desperately hoped that this wasn't some cruel dream, a figment of nothingness. How could he be sure anymore? He sat up with some difficulty and shifted his left arm into the semi-light coming from the moon. Faint white scars were scattered up and down the tender flesh there; he lightly ran his fingers over them as if to remind himself that they were there. Pain was but a fleeting memory, glaringly obvious while you were consumed by it, but distant and hard to comprehend when you tried to remember how it felt. He slowly, wincing at the tug on the wound in his shoulder, reached for his wakizashi where it was lying near the futon. Its weight was so familiar in his hand, too familiar for comfort anymore. Drawing a short, thin line across his wrist, he stared at the blood as if he couldn't believe it was his. It wasn't much, and somehow wasn't enough tonight. He wanted to know who he was in relation to other beings. Just because he could inflict pain on himself didn't make any of this real. He wondered what pain really was.
"Kaoru," he whispered, shaking her with rising despair. "Kaoru wake up, I need you."
Hearing those words somehow set off an alarm in her head, he had never said that, and his tone was frightening. Something was wrong. She sat up and rubbed a hand across her eyes, adjusting slowly to the darkness. Looking at him questioningly, she noticed the trickle of blood that flowed down his arm. It was almost spellbinding, the contrast the crimson made with the paleness of his skin, but she tore her gaze away to settle it on his eyes. She didn't say a word.
"Kaoru, please," he said, putting his wakizashi in her hand and closing her fingers around it. He paused for several moments, and then continued in a voice low and silky. "Cut me, love."
Her eyes grew larger, the suggestion was daringly wrong and somehow, coming from him, darkly erotic. "You want me to... what?"
"Cut me," he repeated, and took her wrist gently, guiding her hand to press the sharp blade to his wrist.
"Battousai, no," she stammered. "This is crazy, absolutely insane. I can't do that!"
"Yes, you can," he insisted in a whisper. "I need you to. Please."
"But... Battousai... why?"
"Just trust me. I need this, you have to help me."
Help him. The words seemed so foreign. There was no joke in his voice, he was serious and convincing. She didn't understand it, but the way he said it made her defense waver. If he really needed it, could she bring herself to do it? But how could it help anything?
"Kaoru," he said desperately. "Gods... please Kaoru, I'm begging you."
Begging? He was serious. Battousai did not beg. She swallowed hard and nodded, her hands shaking. Carefully taking her hand in his, he showed her just where he wanted her to place the blade, whispering instructions on how much pressure to apply. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she slid the wakizashi down his arm, avoiding the vein with as much tender care as she possibly could have while ripping his skin apart and spilling his blood. When she could no longer force herself to hurt him, she dropped the blade and stared into his eyes, shaking and not able to get her question out at all. A bitter smile of demonic satisfaction was on his face, his eyes blazed with an untamable fire that Kaoru knew could not be put out.
He lifted his wrist to her lips, silently asking what she had never thought she would or could do in all her life. But something about him was so compelling, so wickedly and savagely commanding that she found herself opening her mouth to draw in his blood. At first she nearly gagged, it was an unnatural and revolting taste to her, but slowly the feeling faded. He had his eyes closed, and looked as if he might cry, if he could, but didn't say anything. It scared her when she began to savor the taste of him, his metallic-tinged essence. Something about it held a sweetness, she could taste love and sorrow both.
'This is insanity,' she thought. 'You can't taste those things, not in blood.' Yet her heart was telling her otherwise. The blood flow was slowing now, which was a comfort and, shockingly to her, a disappointment. She watched him as she licked the wound clean and he torpidly opened his heavy eyelids. The amber that burned underneath them was fierce and wolfish, but it didn't frighten her. Not anymore.
"Gods, Kaoru," he groaned as he pulled her to him. "You were pure... I'm so sorry."
She knew how greatly she'd changed since she'd first met him, but she didn't regret it. It hurt her that he did. "No," she replied, flicking her tongue out and cleaning the blood from her lips to relish in his essence. "Don't be. Things like this are meant to be, Battousai. We can't change them, we can't be sorry." She paused, not knowing what else to say.
"You're too perfect, too good for me," he whispered in a rush. "Too much of what I need so badly."
"Never too much," she said quietly, picking up his wakizashi from where she'd dropped it and handing it back to him. He looked at her in curiosity. Just how much had she enjoyed that, and what exactly did that mean?
She didn't need him to ask to know what he was saying. "I love you." It wasn't really necessary to say it again, she knew, but it seemed like the right thing to say at a time such as this. "Whatever you need me to do, I will. I know it's important to you. I don't know why, but if you need it that badly..."
Battousai captured her lips in a violent kiss, which was proving to be difficult with his injured shoulder. Finally he released her, and they both gasped for breath. "Sweet goddess above, what I wouldn't do for you," he whispered as he fingered the hilt of the wakizashi that he'd never let fall. Her eyes trailed down to his action.
"What do you want Battousai?" she asked in a low tone.
"You, all of you," he replied slowly. "I want to know that this is real, that you're real. That I'm real."
She didn't fully understand what the meaning of his words were, being only seventeen and always having had something to occupy her mind, she'd never really given a huge amount of thought to existence. It seemed now that she would have to. She took a moment to piece her words together.
"Do what you must," she said. "I trust you."
The look Battousai gave her was so intense that she could feel herself melting into him. Passion, gratitude, desire, sorrow, lust, and... love. All of it was there. He cautiously, as if afraid she would change her mind if he made any sudden moves, took her wrist in one hand. Not wanting to hurt her, too much at least, made him slow and gentle. He didn't press hard, and left only a shallow cut on her wrist. It was just enough for blood to flow down her arm. She flinched at the feel of metal to flesh and nearly cried out at the stinging pain as he sliced her skin, but wouldn't allow herself to call his name and ask him to stop. He needed it, and, deep in her heart, she did too, she just couldn't understand at the moment.
"Sorry, love, sorry," he repeated over and over until she silenced him.
"It's alright." Her words were so quiet that he barely heard her.
She understood him? Her tone implied that she could tell what this meant to him, though he was unsure how much it was helping her. Whatever her reasoning, he couldn't stop now. Raising her hand to his mouth, he tenderly kissed each finger tip before lightly tugging the new wound to his lips. Unlike Kaoru, he didn't hesitate to suck covetously at her blood, whimpering slightly as he drank it quickly. He swirled his tongue about it to both sooth and savor the hurt that he could sense in her. All his life he had worked with pain, loving it for the raw reality of the sensation. He had never shared like this before, never been purposely cut with the intention of helping him. Though he'd shared her body, he'd never shared anyone's soul like this. It was beautiful, though in a way that most people would find horrifying.
Kaoru lifted her other hand to stroke his hair as he dragged his tongue over the cut. It was comforting, almost, she realized, the warmth of his tongue and mouth on the burn left by the blade. His breath was soft upon her arm, his lips a lingering caress. It was a sweet and sickening satisfaction that she couldn't explain. She'd never considered just how intoxicating and thrilling it could be to do something that seemed so completely illicit.
After a while, she moved nearer to him and gently guided him to lie back down. By the feel of his skin, she could tell his fever was waning, but she wanted him to rest. Being up so late into the night couldn't be conducive to his recovery.
Battousai's mouth only left her wrist after covering it with loving kisses. He laid on his back and held her freshly cut arm to his chest. Kaoru stroked his skin with her fingers, coaxing him to return to his sleep. Ignoring the single tear that ran down his cheek, he closed his eyes and murmured to her before letting himself drift away.
"I love you, Kaoru."
*****
A/N: All you impressionable young peoples who shouldn't be reading this but are.... don't go out and start slicing up yourself/other people. Just thought I might say that it's a hard habit to break and not a good solution. Ok. Now that the public service announcement is done (Wow... picture me doing actual PSAs... the public would be screwed)... Wasn't that fun? I've taken a major turn back into the dark part of this story. Personally, I love the idea of some Battousai-blood-drinking. Ok, I know this is definately not everyone's style, but... well.... it's my fic, so I can write whatever my little heart desires ^_^ Yeah, this chapter was short, but it's a lot of weirdness to take in, and it's pretty hard to write, believe it or not. Whee!