Author's Notes: This oneshot was written in commemoration for the New Year (2006), and for each and every Tactics and HaruKan fan. (So yes, I stayed up until 4AM January 1st just for your reading pleasure.) To an extent, this fic keeps with my descriptive, seductive and figurative writing style, but unlike many of my works, I swayed from the motifs of violent and sexual sadism, writing a tale of sweet fascination instead. All in all, enjoy. Reviews are, like always, most appreciated.
Allure
By Rykea Night
There was a stillness to the night, shimmering moonstone splinters and lucid diamond drops tainting an ash-burnt sky. An ethereal quietness had enveloped the vivacious spirit of the town, a silence bathed in energy and anticipation, casting tortured souls and battered sprites to the rash current for a single night of inimitable aspiration. It were these corporeal spirits that reigned over the heart of the forest and the feast of the innocent youkai, these human desires that bled life back into the earth within a single night of celebration. And despite it all, Haruka could only mutely observe their foolish traditions, refusing to see the ethereality the mundane mortals had finally come to possess.
Kantarou's still body rested against Haruka's side, the heavy influence of a dreamless sleep weighing upon him, the thick scent of sweet sake tainting the boy's breath. And yet he was beautiful, the reflection of a sensually cruel reverie, coiling through your heart and piercing your skin, enough to send a shiver of cold thrill down your aching spine. His porcelain flesh shone in the blissful shadows of the harvest moon, speckles of moondust caught within his silver hair, cheeks flushed lightly against the entrancing white.
Coiling his fingers through the boy's silver tresses, Haruka etched the fine bones in his mind, the pure, pulsing blood, the untainted flesh. And there were his eyes, pools of jagged crimson stone, piercing and deadly, tearing away your visions of virginal beauty and whispering tales of butchered lives of deceit. A demon's stare, more enthralling than a serpent's kiss.
Explosions of shimmering light burnt the night sky as Haruka's fingers lightly caressed Kantarou's pulsating lips, a light stirring of flesh quick enough to please, and gentle enough not to wake. Sighing, he returned his sights to the colored man-made sparks, clenching his jaw with each thundering shot, cringing at the horrid explosion of speckled smoke. And yet, it was calming in a way, man's thriving spirit, his impure visions of light.
Kantarou twitched beside him, his face leaning further into the tengu's chest, the scent of alcohol stronger than before, intoxicating almost. "Happy new year, Haruka."
Stiffening, the tengu sighed, letting the horrid scent rush over his senses and thrust into his core. But it was a part of the boy. Just as his entrancing eyes could captivate his soul, it was another aspect of his beauty, and it made him even more sensual.
"Happy new year," Haruka replied dryly.
Though behind that hardened façade, Kantarou knew the demon had no thirst for human traditions or festivities. The folklorist had seen it before, and it continued to warm his heart.
Sometimes it was spiritually fulfilling to have someone stay awake simply to watch you sleep.
La fin.