Yuki carefully opened Akito's door, slipped inside and silently closed it behind him. He staggered exhausted to his small room. There he crumpled against the wall. He reached blindly into the cabinet, fumbling in the darkness, and brought forth a bottle. It didn't feel like his beloved vodka from earlier but it would do. He carefully unscrewed its top and took a long drink. It was sweet and spicy. Not vodka. Maybe rum. Hmm... spiced rum he thought. It made no difference. He took another long drink.
He looked around the room, eyes very slowly adjusting to the darkness. It was about six in the morning, the sun beginning to lighten the world, but no light reached his small room.
He lent his head back against the wall. He was tired. So very tired. And sore. He couldn't remember the last time he's felt this bad after sex... maybe early on, shortly after he began work... -but he didn't want to remember that now.
He didn't want to go to Akito. He wanted to be alone. To lock himself away here. Or better yet to leave the Estate.
It had been... horrible. In a word. He could have said no, kicked up a fuss, fought back... but he didn't. Of course. He couldn't. This was his job. His life. His everything.
The men had been pleased, which was good. Akito would be happy, and that was important to Yuki... wasn't it?
And they had tipped him generously as they left. He could feel the crisp notes in his pocket. He knew he should be grateful.
He was sure he'd be ready for work tomorrow. He was overreacting. He was being silly, childish.
The bottle seemed to raise itself to his lips and more of the warming liquid filled his mouth. The comforting warmth in his stomach was pleasant. He wanted more of it. But he also wanted numbness, and he couldn't have both.
He was feeling better now. He had behaved ridiculously in avoiding Akito. He was his master. He had raised him and cared for him. He was his lover and boss. Really, he was everything to Yuki.
Yuki took another small sip before pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. He left the bottle and stumbled from the room. His legs trembled slightly and he wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or pain or something else.
He reached the bed and with a small sigh slipped unobtrusively under the covers. He prayed Akito didn't want pleasuring tonight for he would be unable to do anything.
He sank into the mattress as soon as he lay down, his body very heavy. Akito stirred next to him and drew him close. Yuki let their bodies mold together, grateful for the comfort it brought, and that Akito didn't want more from his tired body.
He fell asleep very quickly that morning; his mind's usual preoccupations smothered by exhaustion.
.
When he slowly woke hours later Akito was gone. It was unusual for Yuki not to waken at Akito getting ready, but he supposed he had been very tired.
He looked around at the handsome room. It was fine room to call one's own. Shifting to the end of the bed he could see out the French windows to the grounds and gardens. It was a beautiful place to live.
He was ashamed of the way he had acted last night. He should be grateful. Akito had left this morning, letting him continue sleeping. That was a kind master.
He showered, washing himself thoroughly until his skin wrinkled. He noticed several small bruises blossoming across his body. He grimaced slightly, not wanting to remember or dwell on the night before.
When he began to dress he found the money was missing from his pocket; Akito must have removed it while he slept. The others kept their own money and dealt with it however they wanted but Akito stored Yuki's in a bank account. He said this way it would gather interest. Yuki didn't know what this meant but he trusted Akito.
He trudged slowly outside and sank down onto his bench. He watched the birds fluttering in the trees and taking flight, throwing themselves into the sky and spiraling far away, and he imagined he was a bird too.
.
After several hours Yuki wandered back inside. He felt there was something nagging at the corners of his mind, just waiting for him to turn his attention on it. He didn't know what it was but he knew it was dark and nasty and that he didn't want to address it.
He curled in the armchair and managed to force himself into a fitful sleep.
When he awoke the first thing on his mind was a drink. He hurried to his cabinet and opened it. There were many different bottles in there, all different shapes and sizes. His clients often gifted him a bottle of drink, pressing it into his hands with a kind smile, as though this negated what their dirty hands had done to him during the night.
Now... what would help his parched throat? He knew what most of them were from sight; from their colour and the shape of their bottle. He drew out a small, fat bottle of amber coloured liquid. This looked interesting. He squinted at the label but the letters were a mystery to him. This one would do. He would ask Haru what it said. He was always willing to help him, without being condescending.
He waited for Haru at the bench, slowly drinking from the bottle.
The hours wore on. He had slept a lot that day- much more than normal- but he felt so unnaturally exhausted.
Momiji appeared in the garden, releasing a moth which had flown inside. Yuki smiled and he flitted over. Yuki was amazed at his continued brightness and kindness after working at the Estate for a year. It was endearing, but Yuki didn't really understand it.
They spoke of unimportant things for some time before Momiji noticed the bruises on Yuki's arms. His young face turned serious.
"A bad one last night?" he inquired in a small voice, and Yuki could only nod. They lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Yuki liked Momiji; he was kind and compassionate, and one who didn't care that Yuki received the richest clients.
Yuki asked if Haru was about and Momiji shook his head sadly. "He had a bad night too." Yuki was suddenly angry. It wasn't fair that someone like Haru should be treated badly. It wasn't right. He took a long drink.
In time Momiji left, saying he had to help Kagura with something. "See you Yuki" he smiled as he left.
Yuki was alone once more, and in the absence of Momiji's warm presence the anger inside him bubbled like acid.
He realised the thing he'd been ignoring, was Akito. The way way he had looked at Yuki last night. After promising a night off, or at least an easy night, he had given Yuki to three men. And he had known. His cold eyes were what Yuki hadn't wanted to think about. He didn't want to know that Akito didn't care about him... but now he knew...
He stood abruptly and entered the house by a different door, walking along the grand corridors until he reached the large lounge. He wanted to check if Haru was there.
He entered, and looked around. A few clients had gathered on the couches, several were playing poker at a table in the corner. They were being served afternoon drinks by Kisa and Hiro.
As Yuki watched with disgust he saw some of the clients, all men, touching themselves.
He felt sick.
Of all the things he had experienced in his dark and miserable life this was the worst.
He had spoken to Akito before about it. Since he arrived at the Estate as a small child he had never asked Akito for anything. But he asked him not to do that to Hiro and Kisa. He had asked him not to let perverts touch themselves at the sight of them.
Akito had assured him the clients could not touch them, that they were perfectly safe. Yuki had insisted that it was wrong, that he wanted it to stop. Akito promised he would reign it in and kissed Yuki to distract him. When Yuki had continued to mention it Akito had had him severely beaten. After that Yuki said no more about it.
Because he was a coward.
Now he stormed from the room, felling sick and disgusted at himself, at Akito, at everyone.
It was all just too much.
He rushed outside once more and strode through the gardens.
He reached the bench and paused a moment.
He wanted to scribble a note, as he had seen people do in films, but without the ability to write he would have to compromise.
He left the half-empty bottle carefully on Haru's side of the bench, hoping he would understand, and turned away.
He strode to the gate of the Sohma Estate, his gait confident and purposeful, and no-one he passed tried to stop him.
He paused, sparing the beautiful grounds a sweeping glance, and continued, leaving the Estate for the first time in years.
After every chapter of this I really feel like apologising! So... sorry!
Also if I don't write another chapter before I go, I'm going to be away with limited internet for three weeks so there'll be no more story till then (I'm sure you're celebrating that you'll get a break from this train-wreck :P)