Beta: EternalAngel
A/N: Sorry it's taken so long for me to get off my lazy ass, but here's a chapter. Hope you enjoy.
Comments and critique appreciated.
The next day Ryoma spent his lunch talking with the tennis team's coach, and got permission to come to practice again when he promised he wouldn't strain his right wrist, and would tell the coach if he felt ill. He hardly paid attention in any of the afternoon classes, because all he could think of was tennis, and how he could play again.
But when he arrived at practice, the coach and everyone on the team made sure Ryoma didn't even get to touch a racket. Ryoma knew they only meant well, but he still hated them for it. He was actually happy when practice ended.
Coming out of the locker room, Ryoma walked over to Sakuno who had been waiting for him.
"I'm sorry they didn't let you play, Ryoma-kun," Sakuno said.
"They could've let me play at least one match. It's not like I need both hands to play," Ryoma grumbled. "I could've just let the other guy serve the whole game." He had suggested that to the coach and gotten a long, long blank stare that had been followed by a fit of laughter. Ryoma hated the coach.
As they walked, Ryoma glanced at the girl from the corner of his eye every now and then. She had her head bowed down, and her long hair, flowing open again, covered most of her face. Ryoma remembered telling her once that she should cut her hair, when she had asked for his advice on how to get better at tennis. He was glad she hadn't listened to him.
With a shaky hand and a nervous gulp, Ryoma reached out and took her hand. She turned to look at him, eyes wide, startled. But then she squeezed Ryoma's hand and smiled.
They stopped before Sakuno's house, and still holding Sakuno's hand, Ryoma cast a nervous glance at the windows, almost expecting to see Ryuzaki-sensei glaring at him. But when he saw no one, Ryoma turned his eyes back to Sakuno's face. She was biting her lip, and was looking down, her eyes darting every now and then up to Ryoma's face. His hand trembling, Ryoma leaned down, and kissed her. It was just a quick peck on the lips, and the moment their lips separated Sakuno ran to the front door. She stopped before opening the door, and looked at Ryoma from over her shoulder, smiling. Ryoma returned the smile, knowing he looked like an idiot, but didn't care, and walked home in a daze.
He didn't realize he was still smiling when he sat down on the living room couch, but then his dad yelled, "You kissed her!"
"What?!" Ryoma yelled, jumping up from the couch. "How did you know?"
Nanjiroh's already wide grin spread only wider at Ryoma's admittance. "I recognize that smile!"
"What are you two arguing about now?" Rinko came into the living room, trailed by Karupin, who was trying to jump up to his cup that Rinko was holding.
"The kid and Sakuno-chan kissed!"
"Dad!"
"That's nice dear. I'm so happy things are going well with you and Sakuno. She's a sweet girl." Rinko smiled. She was pleased to see her son scowling again and arguing with his father. Things seemed to be back to normal.
"I'm not staying for dinner tonight. I'm going to the movies with a friend," he told them.
"That friend wouldn't happen to be a girlfriend, would she?" Nanjiroh asked with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.
"I'm going up to my room!" Ryoma yelled and grabbed Karupin with him on the way. The cat meowed a protest, climbed up to place his paws on the boy's shoulder, and stared longingly at the food still held in Rinko's hand.
Ryoma waited for Sakuno across the street from the movie theatre. He jumped when a street lamp lit over his head and closed his eyes against the suddenly bright, artificial light. When the afterimage of the lamp bulb faded behind his closed eyelids he looked at his watch. Only fifteen minutes to the time they had agreed to meet, but Ryoma wished Sakuno would hurry. With the memory of Atobe's fingers strangling him, he knew he would feel more comfortable inside the theatre, holding Sakuno's hand.
When he finally saw her, he didn't greet her, just watched. She was wearing a skirt today, just like the other day, and a brown coat. She'd tied her hair up on a ponytail, but it was still long enough to reach her waist and tangle in the strings of her small bag.
Ryoma took a step forward and raised his hand to wave at Sakuno, when someone stepped between them. The smile on his face died when he looked up to Atobe's cold eyes. It was a new look he saw in them. It was not the hunger he had grown used to, and expected to see in Atobe's eyes, nor was it the cold, emotionless look he'd seen in them last night.
This was something else, something that scared him even more than a child's memory of a stranger's blue eyes and a predatory grin. It scared him more because there was something human in it.
"I will not have this!" Ryoma flinched when Atobe spoke and crouched when the voice hit him like a knife slicing inside his head.
He grabbed his forehead and squinted when the light of the street lamp made the pain worse. "Fuck you," Ryoma spat, clutching his head with both his hands now. "What the hell do you want?" he yelled through the pain.
"You think I will let you have her, share what I have claimed as mine, with someone else?" Through the sharp pain, he heard the words Atobe spoke clearly, as though it was not with his ears he heard them, but with his mind. "Your life belongs to me now. Do not dare to think otherwise."
Ryoma panted, down on one knee, the pain now gone, as suddenly as it had appeared.
"Echizen-san!" Ryoma heard a familiar, worried voice shout, and soon gentle hands were lifting him up.
"Oishi-san," Ryoma muttered a greeting and pushed the man away, even though his feet still felt weak. "Thank you, but I'm fine now."
Oishi seemed reluctant to release him, but did so anyway.
"Who was that young man?" Inui had appeared, probably at the same time as Oishi, but Ryoma hadn't noticed him until he spoke.
"What young man?" Ryoma asked, despite knowing Inui meant Atobe.
"The one that was standing right there," Inui pointed at a spot, only a few steps away from Ryoma, "Only a few moments ago. He seemed to know you."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Just because some freak recognizes me, doesn't mean I know them. Besides, I don't have time to talk to you, I have to-" Ryoma looked across the street and searched for Sakuno. He found her, with Atobe standing beside her, looking at Ryoma. There was a challenge on Atobe's face, and a promise that if he chose to go against Atobe, Sakuno would be the one to pay.
"What, Echizen-san? Are you meeting a friend?" Oishi asked.
"No, I'm just… Nothing," Ryoma said, turning his back on the theatre, and Sakuno. He had to keep her safe, she wasn't a part of this ugliness, shouldn't be. Just because Ryoma liked having her, someone pure in his life, was no justification to cause her harm.
"Maybe we should take you to the hospital?" Oishi asked, worried.
"It's fine, really. I just haven't eaten anything," Ryoma said and realized it was the true when his stomach growled.
"Why don't we take you to dinner?" Oishi suggested enthusiastically and glanced at his partner pleadingly.
"I see no problem with us sharing a meal with Echizen-san," Inui said.
"Thanks for treating me," Ryoma was quick to say.
"Your turn to buy, Oishi," Inui said. "I can check the calendar, if you do not trust my memory."
"No, it's fine," Oishi said and sighed sadly. After all, it was his idea to begin with, so it was only fair.
Ryoma followed the two men to a quiet little sushi shop, where the man behind the desk greeted both with a big grin.
"Hello Taka-san," Inui said.
"Inui, Oishi, nice to see you again," The man said, with a gentle smile that made Ryoma feel welcomed. "And who's your friend? A new recruit?"
"No, he is a witness in an ongoing investigation," Inui said. "We will take the table at the back."
"Alright. You taking your usual?" he asked, and when the two nodded, he turned to Ryoma and asked, "And you?"
Ryoma considered going for pricy, since he wasn't buying, but finally settled for something that wouldn't make too big of a hole in Oishi's pocket. He figured the guy didn't make lots of money from being a cop, or if he did, he had horrible fashion sense, and a terrible hairdresser. Though the hair style was probably a choice, so there really was no telling.
"So, about the man," Inui had taken out his notebook the moment they sat down, and Ryoma's face darkened. Couldn't the man just eat, without trying to interrogate him?
"Let's not talk about that, and just enjoy Taka-san's sushi," Oishi suggested, noticing Ryoma's expression, and wanting to avoid a confrontation.
"You know him pretty well?" Ryoma asked, happily following Oishi's suggestion.
"We played tennis together at school," Inui answered him.
"You played tennis?" Ryoma asked and leaned forward. Tennis was something he was always happy to talk about.
"Yes. If I remember correctly, so do you. Probably your father's influence. He was a very good tennis player, but retired early on in his career. I've always wondered the reason for that." Inui looked at Ryoma, as if waiting for the boy to shed light on an issue that many had wondered since the day Echizen Nanjiroh had announced his retirement from the tennis circuit.
"Don't ask me, I don't know," Ryoma pushed the question aside. "Were you any good?" he wanted to know.
"Nationally ranked," Inui said. "And so was Oishi, with his doubles partner."
"You played doubles?" Ryoma asked and looked at Oishi. "I'm not good at doubles."
Oishi grinned sheepishly and answered Ryoma. "I was never much of a singles player. I liked being part of a team."
"If you were so good, why'd you stop playing?" Ryoma asked, not understanding why someone would stop doing something they were so good at.
"My family had other expectations concerning my career," Inui said.
"And when my partner chose that tennis was not for him, I never found another partner I could have played so well with, so I stopped. How I ended up becoming part of the police force," he shrugged. "Influenced by an old friend, perhaps," he glanced at Inui, and even though the smile was happy, there was sadness in it, like he was remembering things in the past that were hurtful. Inui returned the smile with a one more subdued, than the one on his partner's face.
"Here you are," Taka-san placed their orders in front of them. "Enjoy."
"Thank you Taka-san," Inui said. They concentrated on eating, and the conversation died.
When he was done, Ryoma looked around and finally asked, "Is there a bathroom around here?"
"Just over there," Oishi told him and pointed at the back of the shop.
"Thanks. Be right back," Ryoma said and left the table.
A few minutes after Ryoma had excused himself Inui pushed his empty plate away and said, "We better go after him. I think we have given him a long enough head start."
"He said he'd be right back," Oishi protested.
"Your constant belief in the good in people never ceases to amaze me, Oishi, even after all you have seen," Inui said, and even though Oishi really wanted to take it as a complement, he knew Inui well enough to know it wasn't, and flushed. "If you remember, there is a back exit near the bathrooms."
"That doesn't mean he used it!" Oishi defended the absent boy.
"Alright, to please you, we will check the bathroom first. You go check, and I will settle the bill with Taka-san." Oishi smiled widely, realizing he wouldn't have to pay. "I will present you with the receipt, so you can be assured I am not asking for too much when you pay me back."
Oishi's shoulders slumped. "It's fine, Inui. I trust you," he sighed.
"No, I insist."
Oishi walked over to the bathroom and his mood soon brightened when he found it locked.
"See, he's still there," Oishi beamed at Inui when the other arrived. He was still smiling when the door opened and a man that was taller than Inui stepped out.
"Come Oishi. If we hurry, we might catch up to him," Inui said and patted him on the shoulder.
Ryoma waited for fifteen minutes before he came out off the women's bathroom, and when he stepped out, received a slap on his cheek form an elderly woman. "Really, you young criminals! I have a weak bladder, young man, I do not have the patience to indulge you hooligans occupying the bathroom for your pranks! I better not find the toilet seat up and graffiti on the walls!"
"I'm sorry lady!" Ryoma shouted and ran through the sushi shop, outside to the street, hardly noticing Taka-san's confused face behind the counter.
He picked a narrow alley and hoped it would lead to a place he'd recognize. After three alleyways he finally reached a wider street, but he had no idea where it was. There were only two dim lights on the street, and the other one, only a few steps away from Ryoma, kept flickering on and off. Ryoma saw a couple under the flickering light when it went on, and heard a moan as it turned off again.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ryoma said and meant to turn and leave.
"There's no reason," a soft voice spoke and Ryoma froze, recognizing it. It was the same voice that had been haunting his nightmares for years. "I'm already done with him."
Ryoma watched silently as one of the figures, the one next to the wall slid down on to the ground. The lamp flickered on again, and Ryoma could see the dead eyes staring ahead, seeing nothing. The body's head was tilted on the other shoulder, revealing two puncture wounds on the pale neck.
It had been a boy, Ryoma's age, wearing jeans and a green jacket. He still held an mp3 player in his hand, and there were headphones around his neck. Ryoma heard muffled music from the headphones, and thought he recognized the song as one of his favourites.
Ryoma tore his gaze from the body to hauntingly familiar blue eyes. "I remember your scent," the stranger said and smiled. He glided through the air to Ryoma, his hands landing on the boy's shoulders, moved along his neck and up to frame his face. He bent his head and grazed his lips against Ryoma's forehead. "Five years ago. I let you go. Now I am glad I did." He lifted Ryoma's face to show the boy his pleased smile. "You turned out better than I ever expected."
Ryoma tried to step back, only to be pulled back in the creatures embrace, its hands circling his waist. When he was kissed, Ryoma was too scared to protest against the tongue that slipped in his mouth.
Suddenly he was released and an arm was coiled around his waist, and a hand placed on his shoulder. Ryoma did not need to turn, to know who it was, holding him.
"Atobe," the creature greeted the man standing where it had stood only a moment ago. "You're touching something I would very much like to have."
"You always did have a nasty habit of wanting things you shouldn't, Fuji," Atobe answered, pushing Ryoma behind him.
"One could claim he already belongs to me," Fuji grinned, licking his lips, not even attempting to hide his fangs. "I saw him first. Now hand him over." Fuji had narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice to a dangerous growl.
"No." Atobe spoke, voice just as dangerous as Fuji's. "He's mine."
"Five years ago. I left my mark on his mind," Fuji said. "I let him go then, knowing this day would come. And if it is proof you want, you only need to see how he still cowers in fear before me." Fuji took a step forward and Ryoma flinched. His reaction made Fuji grin wider.
"I have no intention of giving you something that willingly offered itself to me," Atobe said.
Fuji pursed his lips together and frowned. "Really? A mouse walking in to the claws of a cat? That is something that doesn't happen everyday."
"No, it isn't. But now I am beginning to think the mouse was only seeking protection from a snake." Atobe's voice had lost its dangerous edge, and sounded more thoughtful than anything else.
"And I'm the snake?" Fuji asked, chuckling. "Well, do as you please. I have no interest in breaking a happy couple such as you two. Will you share your blood with him, Atobe? Make him truly yours? Give him, what you have denied from every other creature that has worshipped you?"
"Why so interested in if I choose to make a fledgling of my own? Do not your own interest you anymore?" Atobe asked, tilting his head and giving Fuji an arrogant smile. "Where are Yuuta and Tezuka?" Atobe asked, and Ryoma frowned, the other name sounding familiar.
"I don't know," Fuji looked away, and Ryoma was stunned by the sudden change in the creature, the sadness he saw in Fuji's face, and heard from his voice. The arrogance and amused indifference he had displayed earlier had disappeared so quickly, Ryoma doubted his own memory of them. "Yuuta will eventually return, if only to slay me, but Tezuka… I do not know. He has always been stubborn, and very good at staying hidden, when he so wishes."
"Tezuka," Ryoma muttered the name, finally remembering where he had heard it before.
Fuji's attention snapped back to him when he spoke the name. "You know something? Speak!" Fuji demanded, his eyes burning.
Ryoma glanced at Atobe, unsure of what he should do. When Atobe only shrugged and lifted an eyebrow, Ryoma frowned. "The night I was attacked, those two… They mentioned Tezuka," Ryoma said, looking at Atobe.
"Did they?" Atobe asked, his tense smile making it clear he was annoyed that Ryoma had spoken at all.
"What else?" Fuji's tense voice asked.
Ryoma tore his eyes from Atobe to shake his head at Fuji. "Nothing," he said.
Fuji narrowed his eyes, and stepped closer, fisting his hands, and Ryoma nearly ran, but Atobe placed a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from fleeing. "Fuji!" Atobe spoke the name sharply, and Fuji stopped, still glaring at Ryoma.
"It is more than I have heard for years," Fuji said, voice calm. "What happened to them?" he asked, staring at Ryoma, who looked at Atobe again.
Atobe stared at Ryoma, clicked his tongue in annoyance, but finally turned to Fuji and answered, "They are dead. I killed them."
"You…" Fuji seemed to be on the verge of rage again, but calmed himself, and his voice remained steady and soft, when he asked, "Why?"
"The other was out of control, killing, hardly even feeding, and the other wasn't doing anything about it. I had to get rid of them. They would have caused problems."
Fuji had stilled to hear Atobe's explanation, and nodded once Atobe finished. "His fledglings. I've come across them before. Always in pairs. He makes pairs, and then leaves them. He never leaves them alone. That stupid man." Fuji spoke the last part in an almost affectionate way, and closed his eyes, the gentle smile Ryoma remembered as the first expression he ever saw on the man's face, returning.
"Why did you come here, Fuji?" Atobe asked, taking his hand from Ryoma's shoulder, and stepping towards the other vampire. "It was not to chase after rumours of your errand fledglings, or hunt prey you let go years ago."
"Yes, I almost forgot my original reason for coming to see you," Fuji seemed to have gained back his cheeriness, and spoke in a lighter tone. "Sanada has woken. Aren't you happy?"
"Sanada?" Atobe repeated the name, his voice rising to a near shout. "He has slept for decades. What woke him?"
Fuji shrugged. "I do not know. All I know is that he is awake."
"How do you know this?" Atobe asked, sounding like he did not believe Fuji.
"He is my maker. You have not forgotten that, have you?" Fuji asked, and seemed surprised Atobe would ask him that. "I have always known where he is, if he isn't trying to hide his presence. It is the same the other way around. Don't tell me you never-" Fuji stopped speaking, seeming to realize something. "Ah, of course. You wouldn't have paid attention to it, and he wouldn't have told you. Not when you both had so many other things to consider."
"You are sure Sanada has woken?" Atobe asked, ignoring everything else Fuji had said.
"I am," Fuji flashed him a brilliant smile. "And that is why I came. I'll just clean after myself so you don't have an excuse to rip my head off." He walked over to the corpse and hoisted it over his shoulder. "I wouldn't want to be here when Sanada arrives and sees him." Fuji nudged his head towards Ryoma. "I doubt it'll be pretty," Fuji stated with a smirk, and was gone, in a blur of colours.
"What did he mean?" Ryoma asked. "Who's Sanada?"
"No one you should concern yourself with," Atobe said, his back still turned on the boy, looking after Fuji.
"Yes he is! The way he talked about him, like this Sanada wants to kill me!" Ryoma screamed and when Atobe turned to look at him, Ryoma stepped back, staring in horror at the wide grin on Atobe's face, and at the reckless glint in his eyes.
"He probably does," Atobe laughed, and Ryoma was reminded that Atobe wasn't someone he could demand answers from. Ryoma's life meant nothing to him. "But he won't."
"No?" Ryoma whispered the question, his eyes following every move Atobe made, every step he took when he came closer, his hand when it rose to cup Ryoma's chin.
Ryoma swallowed, mouth dry when Atobe leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, the fingers on his chin sliding down, over his neck and chest, and finally rested against his side. He gritted his teeth, struggling against the desire to respond, hating how much the kiss resembled the one he'd shared with Sakuno. He tried to picture her smiling face, and sparkling eyes before him, but her image in his mind was soon pushed aside and replaced by an arrogant smirk, and blue eyes glinting with hunger and want.
Atobe's lips became more demanding, for the kiss turned from gentle to voracious, and any resemblance to sweetness and innocence it had once held was chased away, along with the remnants of Ryoma's resistance. He sought Atobe's tongue just as hungrily as it sought his, tore at the man's hair and clothes, growled angrily when he couldn't get any closer, feel more.
"You are mine now," Atobe's voice purred, his fingers entwining in Ryoma's hair, his hand pressing against his side, keeping them close. "You cannot escape, not even if you wished it."
The words, the self-assured tone in which they wore spoken flared Ryoma's temper, and he pushed away from Atobe, hitting his back on the stone wall behind him. "You seem so sure I don't want to," Ryoma spoke breathlessly, a cutting edge of rage in his voice that was fanned by the amusement he saw that glittering in Atobe's eyes.
"And why shouldn't I?" Atobe asked, laughter in his voice. "I know you better than your parents, friends, or that girl does. Even better than you know yourself. There is nothing you could hide from me."
Ryoma shivered again, from fear now. "There is no way you could know me, not like you claim," he hissed.
"You can keep clinging on to that delusion, if you so wish," Atobe whispered, leaning closer, his lips hovering over Ryoma's. "It does not matter," he murmured against the boy's lips, pressed his hand on the boy's hip, and pushed it under his shirt, and Ryoma drew a shaky breath, shivering under the cold touch.
When Atobe's fangs sank into his neck, he nearly forgot how to breathe, the shock of sharp teeth tearing his skin, the loss of blood made everything else not matter. He wrapped his arms around Atobe, pulled even closer to the body pinning him, and when Atobe bit harder a strangled noise escaped from Ryoma's mouth as the pain became too much for him to bear anymore, and it tried to drag his mind to darkness. The darkness was a familiar refuge where he had fled before when he had been too tired and powerless to fight anymore.
Ryoma forced himself to stay conscious, to fight. He opened his eyes, focused on the dim light he saw still flickering above his head, dug his nails in the flesh under his hands, screamed, and Atobe bit harder again, his tongue warm against Ryoma's neck, his mouth sucking on his skin, making Ryoma's head spin, his lungs hurt, his skin tingle, his body warm, hot. Ryoma gasped when the pain twisted, turned to pleasure so intense that it made him moan aloud.
Another flash of pain shot through him when Atobe grasped his wrist and slammed his arm against the wall, but his whimper of pain morphed into a cry of pleasure when Atobe pushed against him, drawing his mind back from the daze it had tried to retreat to, and back to the reality where every touch was laced with burning heat and pleasure, where there had once been coldness and pain. And when every touch and move Atobe made, incited pleasure that travelled in waves through him, from the tips of his fingers, to the soles of his feet, from his spine, gut, and groin to his brain, it was impossible for him to stand firm before the onslaught of sensations, so he surrendered. It didn't matter that he had no power over the reactions of his body, of the sounds he made, of how it felt, that he would never have agreed to give this if he had been given the choice. All that mattered was that the feeling wouldn't stop, not until it reached the climax, the promise of sweet fulfilment shining just on the edge of his grasp.
In the end all it needed was one more caress from Atobe, a warm hand ghosting above the hot skin of Ryoma's stomach, and a wet tongue pressing against his neck and Ryoma came, with a needy moan he silenced by turning his head and burying his mouth on his shoulder.
Ryoma knew he needed to move soon, and pull away. But not yet, when he could still linger in the warmth of the body pressing against him. When Atobe moved, Ryoma had to struggle, to not reach out and fist his hands on Atobe's shirt, to not hold on. He let his hands fall to his sides, and when Atobe finally stepped away, Ryoma slid on the ground, not strong enough to stay standing with only his own strength to support him.