Beta: EternalAngel
The house was abandoned, years of neglect had rotten the wood, the doors hung loose on their hinges, and the glass on the windows was broken, the shards lying midst the mud and dirt that covered the wooden floor. The fireplace in the living room was full of broken bottles, beer cans and cigarette stumps. There was a coffee table resting with one foot, and three chairs, only one left that you could still sit on.
Atobe walked past the wreckage to a plastic chair someone had brought to the house. He picked the chair up, dragged it in front of the cold fireplace littered with trash, placed it so that it faced the door and sat down.
Sanada stepped inside the room, never once looking at the man he had followed there.
"How were your dreams?" Atobe asked, as if Sanada had simply woken from an afternoon nap, not from a dream that had lasted decades.
"Fragments," Sanada said, moving to sit on the chair still left, showing only his profile to Atobe. "Of the past. And perhaps, the future."
"You are not a seer, Sanada," Atobe crossed his legs, his right foot resting on his left knee. "The future cannot be seen by you."
"What I wished the future to be, then," Sanada conceded, still not turning to face the other man. "I saw him in my dreams." He did not mention a name, neither of them needed him to. For Sanada there could be only one person he spoke of in that particular tone, with intensity that gave the pronoun a meaning beyond the generic.
"There you go. The dreams of a mortal, Sanada." Atobe leaned his chin against his open palm, looking away. "He is dead. The dead do not return." The same intensity for the word was lacking in Atobe's voice. He refused to give either of them, to Sanada or himself, or to the man they were speaking of the satisfaction of admitting he deserved to be separated from the rest of the world in some way.
"Perhaps." Sanada leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "But sometimes, I hear his voice whisper to me, when the sun rises. And I think…" Atobe looked at Sanada, without turning his head, waited for him to finish the thought. "No, I wish I could go back, prevent it somehow."
Atobe laughed. A loud, hollow laugh, that's echo was filled with bitterness. "You idiot!" Atobe yelled. "There was never anything you could have done!"
"I could have stopped him," Sanada whispered, clasping his hands together, even tighter. "If I had moved faster, been stronger-"
"Too late," Atobe interrupted, voice bitter. "You would have been too late, no matter how fast you would have moved. It was his choice, for it to end in the way it did."
"We do not know that. It might have been an accident, maybe he didn't realize the sun was rising. And why, why would he choose to end it in that way, when he knew I would have- We would have- There were too many of us that loved him." The hurt in Sanada's voice, the suffering on his face, none of it made a difference to Atobe.
"That is why he did it." Atobe said. "He knew you would never cease to second guess your choices, would never let go, and it was what he thought would hurt me the most. And he was right, like always. He always knew how to hurt me." Atobe laughed again, sounding almost desperate in his anger that had no focus.
"He loved you." Sanada said it like an accusation, and rouse from his chair to come stand before Atobe. "We all did. Why could you not be content with that? Why did you have to…" His voice faded, and Atobe looked curiously at his face, wondering why the pain in Sanada's face did nothing to him. He had once been prepared to suffer through anything to make Sanada happy. But years of failure had erased that desire, and now all Sanada's suffering made him feel was irritation. The fact that he could not come first before a dead man.
"I never asked for his love," Atobe said, locking his gaze with Sanada's. "His love came with a price, and that price was my life. He took away my life! You could never understand that!"
"You received more than you lost." Sanada stepped back from Atobe, but did not let his gaze wander from Atobe's eyes. "Immortality, the eyes to behold the night and its beauty, the strength of ten men, those and so much more. Why were you not content with those gifts?"
Atobe growled, stood up and stepped forward until his chest was nearly pressed against Sanada's. "Gifts? You expected me to be grateful for this cursed life?" He lifted his hand to press it against Sanada's cheek. "My touch has no warmth, no life. Cold and dead like stone. The only way my body can imitate life, is by stealing it from another. Some say that the soul resides in the blood. Is it only their blood I take, or do I deprive them of their souls as well?" Atobe narrowed his eyes, and whispered, "How much of a monster am I? We are?"
Sanada covered the hand resting on his cheek with his own, wrapped his fingers around it and held it tightly. "Did you always wonder about these things?" he asked. "Or only after that boy?"
Atobe hissed and tried to pull away his hand, but Sanada held it tightly, and it would take more than a simple tug to release the hand, so Atobe let it remain where it was. "The boy is my business," he spoke stiffly, his frame rigid.
"You resent Yukimura for making you what you are, but intend to do the same to someone else?" Sanada asked and tightened his hold until Atobe grimaced.
"No," Atobe said. "I have never created another creature like us, and I will not start with him. I might be a monster, but I will never be like Yukimura."
"Given the choice, would you really choose to be human? Abandon immortality?" Sanada asked, and searched for the answer in Atobe's eyes, not trusting that Atobe would speak the truth. But Atobe turned his face away, preventing Sanada to see what his eyes held when he answered.
"I do not know. Perhaps, if it was still my time, had there not passed so many years, centuries, I might have said yes. But now?" He shook his head, a sad smile twisting his lips, and finally met Sanada's eyes. "What would be the point?"
"And the boy?" Sanada asked. "Why are you dragging him into all of this?"
"I do not know," Atobe answered truthfully. "But I will not let any of you interfere. It is my game to play."
Sanada smiled grimly and finally released Atobe's hand. "You are too late," he said. "Others have already joined in on the dance you have started."
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Ryoma twitched, feeling the focus of three monsters on him. Fuji's smile was easy to ignore once you got used to it, and Kirihara seemed friendly enough, like an eager puppy that wanted a pat on the head. Sure, a psychotic puppy that might jump at your throat any time, but still a puppy.
But Yanagi's stare was empty. The man looked at him, but it felt like Yanagi didn't see him, no matter how intensely his eyes were focused on Ryoma. "If you care for him, you will make sure to disappear from his life," Yanagi spoke, and it took a moment for Ryoma to realize that the words were meant for him, and even longer to understand their meaning. When he did, Ryoma started laughing, making Yanagi frown and step closer. "You find something amusing in this situation?"
"What the hell makes you think I care about him?" Ryoma asked, grinning. "Or that I have a choice?" he added bitterly.
Yanagi's eyebrows rouse, and Ryoma noticed for the first time that he had not even once opened his eyes. "We can help you with that," Yanagi said. "I can keep him away. Protect you."
Ryoma frowned at the slight tremor he heard in the voice, wondering if it was caused by fear. But after searching for Yanagi's face he soon realized it wasn't fear that made Yanagi's voice tremble, but excitement. Excitement over protecting him? No, Ryoma found that hard to believe.
"Yanagi." Fuji's voice held a cautioning tone, and he stepped slowly down from the van's roof, taking small steps towards Ryoma, never taking his eyes from the man he had addressed. "That is a very foolish offer to make. Even if you would gain Sanada's favour with it, he would not stand in the way of Atobe's wrath."
"Why have you taken a side opposing your master, Fuji?" Yanagi's attention finally shifted from Ryoma, when Fuji stood between them. "What has he done to deserve this disloyalty from you?"
"Sanada never asked for my loyalty, and I did not feel obliged to offer it." Fuji shot his eyes at Ryoma, and when the boy saw he was worried, he trembled. For Fuji to be afraid, when he was not afraid of even Atobe…
"You owe him your loyalty, Fuji." Yanagi's full attention was now on Fuji, and it seemed he had forgotten about Ryoma. "It does not matter that he did not demand it, or that you did not offer it. The blood you share demands it."
"It would not be the first time a fledgling has gone against the will of his maker," Fuji said, keeping his voice calm. "Not all have managed to remain as devoted to their master as you."
"Just because you have made mistakes in choosing those you have gifted with the blood, does not mean you should repeat the mistakes of your children." Yanagi's voice was thin, and his hands fisted. It was clear he was fighting to not lose control of his temper, and Fuji cocked his head curiously to the side. Yanagi had always been self-poised, even more firmly than Tezuka, and to see him struggle so hard to not express his irritation and anger was… interesting. "Do not follow Atobe's path of betrayal," Yanagi warned and pressed two fingers on his temple.
"That's a bit exaggerated, wouldn't you say?" Fuji asked, curious to find out if he could prod another emotional reaction out of Yanagi. "After all, he didn't push his master out in to the sun. Yukimura perished of his own will."
"You dare! You, who do not possess the knowledge and power I do! You are a mere child, and do not have the right to question me!" Yanagi screamed, his face distorted in to a mask of rage that made Fuji stare in fascinated awe. He had never seen such fury on anyone's face.
"Yanagi-sempai!" Kirihara's worried shout cut through Yanagi's rage, and Fuji watched as the lines of rage melted from Yanagi's face, and a smile far too gentle for the man replaced the angry snarl. But the smile soon disappeared, and Yanagi held his normal passive expression again.
Yanagi turned to face Fuji. "Choose your side carefully, Fuji," he said, voice cool and face expressionless. "Atobe might not come out as the winner when this is over."
Fuji nearly asked what Yanagi meant, but instead settled to nodding his head once, slowly, and watched Yanagi leave with Kirihara. He felt the mortal boy's fixed gaze burn on his skin, and knew everything that had happened here would reach Atobe. But what choice did he have, but to agree to Yanagi's terms, when he wished to remain as impartial as he could in this fight. He hadn't yet chosen Atobe's side, even though he had volunteered to the role of Echizen's protector. But that had been caused by his curiosity, the same curiosity that made him prod at Yanagi when the man had acted like a rabid dog.
"Ready to go home, Ryoma?" Fuji asked, smiling at the boy whose eyes were burning with a desire Fuji could not understand.
"I need to find Inui and Oishi," Ryoma said and turned to return to where he had come from. "I need to know they're fine."
"I can do that. You should be home, tucked under the covers with your cat purring at your feet, and your mother doting on you." Fuji came quickly to the boy's side, keeping his voice light and trying to summon a cheery smile on his lips, but knew it was too stressed, even before the boy glared suspiciously at him.
"I don't trust you," the boy said bluntly. "They could be dead. If they are, I-" The boy shivered and shook his head.
"Let me look for them after you are home. If they are dead, then there is nothing you can do, but I know how to get rid of the bodies. And if they are well, I will come and tell you."
"No." The boy shook his head. "I have to see them." His mouth was drawn to a stubborn line that brought a fond memory of Yuuta looking like that to Fuji's mind, and he was shocked to discover that it still hurt, thinking of his brother. He'd had years to grow used to the idea that Yuuta wanted him dead; it should not pain him to be reminded of the good things.
"Why?" Fuji asked. "No matter what we find, you can do nothing, seeing their bodies would only pain you, and-" Fuji stopped speaking when he realised the truth. "You want to know if they are dead, so you can carry the blame for their deaths."
Ryoma stopped and glared at Fuji. "It'd be my fault if they're dead. I've already caused one death, I don't want to be responsible for more, but if I am, I want to know."
"You can't blame yourself for the boy you saw me with, that would be foolish." Fuji tapped his finger against his chin. "And it's not likely you feel guilty about Tezuka's fledglings, they did try to kill you. No, it must be something else. Something Atobe did." Fuji was pleased to see the boy's eyes open wide. He did not need any more confirmation than that. "What happened?" he asked gently.
The boy turned away, and his shoulders slumped. "If I tell you, you'll tell me something in return."
"Deal," Fuji grinned.
"Really? You'll tell me, what ever it is I want to know?" The boy was so astonished that he nearly dropped his school bag.
"Anything at all," Fuji hummed the words, almost singing them. He did not mind sharing something of himself, if he could hear more about the two. He was fascinated at how quickly and deeply Atobe had become involved with the boy, and how the boy seemed so willing to let his fate rest in Atobe's hands.
The boy licked his lips, and swallowed. "I followed him," he finally spoke. "I followed him, and a woman that was with him."
"He killed her," Fuji said, not really asking, but Ryoma replied as if he had.
"Yes," the boy said, head turned the other way and speaking so quietly Fuji had to lean closer so he could hear. "I saw her die. Watched him kill her." Fuji frowned. Terrible as it might have been, that was not enough to make the boy feel responsible for the woman's life. "But before he did, he gave me a choice. I could've saved her. He would've let her go, if I'd died instead."
"And you chose your own life?" Fuji asked, amazed. He fought the desire to laugh, the delight bubbling inside him, almost too strong for him to keep it hidden. He wondered if Ryoma had chosen differently, would the woman Atobe had killed now be in the boy's position. No, he doubted it, and thought it had probably been the boy's answer that made Atobe spare him, made the boy interesting.
Fuji understood that well.
He considered telling the boy that the woman would have probably died even if he would have chosen differently, but knew it made no difference, not for the boy, and not to him. It was the fact that he had consciously chosen his own life over the woman's that was important, what counted.
"You had your answer, now I want mine." Fuji was brought back from his thoughts by the boy's demand.
"Of course. You may ask anything you wish, but," he paused deliberately to stress his next words, and once again, was forced to fight against the desire to laugh out loud when the boy leaned forward eagerly. "You might want to save it, for a time when you have a question no one else will give you an answer for."
"Hnn." The boy leaned back, balanced himself on his heels and chewed his lips, considering Fuji's proposition. "I already have too many of those."
"Echizen-san!" Ryoma turned to stare at Oishi, running towards him. The man stopped before him, wheezing, a hand pressed over his chest. "Are you… alright… Echizen-san?"
"Just fine," Ryoma said, still staring at the man. "Where's Inui?"
"Right here," Inui came down the path Oishi had taken, with a more leisurely pace. "We were attacked, by someone."
"We assumed they were after you, but you're alright, aren't you?" Oishi asked. "We couldn't see them, I know I couldn't, I was hit on the head from behind, but maybe Inui saw them, I didn't ask, did you Inui?"
"No." Inui said, and took out his notebook. "Who are you?"
"You know who I am! You don't have amnesia, do you?" Oishi asked worriedly.
"I'm Ryoma-kun's Fuji-sempai," Fuji answered with a smile.
"So you are from his school?" Inui asked, and Oishi blinked, having only now realised that Ryoma wasn't alone.
"I've been worried about Ryoma-kun, and wanted to take him to see a movie, but the evening was just so beautiful, that we decided to take a stroll." Fuji said.
"Here?" Oishi asked, looking at the narrow alley they were standing on, and at the windowless buildings on both sides of them.
"I'm a fan of architecture," Fuji beamed at Oishi, as if the statement explained everything.
Oishi blinked, Inui scribbled, and Ryoma tried to close his mouth.
"Fuji-sempai?" Ryoma asked, more than just a little hesitance in his voice.
"Yes Ryoma-kun?" Fuji sparkled at him, his smile wide and cheerful.
"Nothing," Ryoma mumbled, and fought against a sudden desire to lift his hand up to feel Fuji's forehead, and see if he had a fever. He didn't think vampires could get sick; they didn't have anything in them that a virus could have infected. But they could go mad.
"We must get Echizen-san home. I'm sure his family is very worried, it's late." Oishi didn't seem suspicious of Fuji anymore, and was only worried for Ryoma. But Inui, though he had placed his notebook back in his pocket, kept his gaze on Fuji, a slight frown on his forehead.
"I'll be happy to take Ryoma-kun home," Fuji said.
"I think we should come with you. We owe an explanation to his parents, as to why we failed to protect him." Inui said and shifted uncomfortably, clearly not happy. Whether he was unhappy about failing or having to confront his parents, Ryoma wasn't sure, but suspected Inui was not used to failure, and that gnawed at him more than the awaited confrontation.
"And we owe you a thank you for keeping Echizen-san safe," Oishi said to Fuji.
"No need. It's my duty as Ryoma-kun's sempai," Fuji answered, his smile more subdued, but no less engaging.
"You should call your parents, Echizen-san," Inui said, before Oishi had a chance to say anything more.
Ryoma cringed at the thought of talking to his mother, or dad, but started to look through his bag before he remembered what had happened to his phone. Kirihara had thrown it against the asphalt of the parking lot.
It was strange to feel gratitude towards Kirihara because he had destroyed his phone, but not a lot about tonight had made any sense. Almost everything the others had spoken of had only raised more questions, and not answered any. He still had no idea what Sanada was to Atobe, why Yanagi had spoken so bitterly about Atobe, and what he'd done. Ryoma wanted to know what was it that Atobe had done to deserve such anger. And why Atobe had disappeared, and Sanada followed.
Atobe had left him with creatures that had no reason to let him live. Any one of them might have killed him just on a whim, and he was powerless against them, the only thing protecting him was the threat that Atobe might be annoyed to discover him dead. He hated this, having to be dependant on someone that didn't care for him. Whether he lived or died, that wouldn't matter to Atobe.
"Ryoma-kun?" Fuji had placed his hand on his arm, and Ryoma stepped back. He stared at the man with his gentle smile, worried frown, and felt sick at how human he looked. Fuji was the perfect predator, who could fool anyone into believing he was harmless. Even Ryoma had forgotten what a monster he was after just a few kind words and gentle smiles, when he'd been terrified of Fuji for over five years.
The old fear crept back, and Ryoma welcomed it this time, realizing that if he feared Fuji, he wouldn't trust him. He couldn't trust either of them; it would hurt too much when they'd betray him.
"Your phone, Echizen-san. Have you lost it?" Inui asked.
"Yeah, I think I left it at school," Ryoma said.
"Then you may use my phone," Inui said, and offered his black cell phone to the boy.
Ryoma stepped back and eyed the phone as if it would bite him. "Uh… any way I could… Could you talk to them?" he finally managed to ask.
Inui frowned, but pulled his hand back. "Very well. But while I speak with them, we should head towards your house."
"Yeah… Which way is it?" Ryoma asked.
Oishi opened his mouth to answer, closed it, and turned to Inui, who shrugged.
"You're kidding?" Ryoma asked. "You don't know where we are?"
"Don't worry, I know where we are," Fuji said. "It's this way." Fuji grabbed Ryoma's arm and pulled the boy to an alley on their right. Ryoma followed, trying to keep up with the fast pace, and soon saw bright, multicoloured lights ahead of them. They stepped from the alley to a street with neon signs, cars, and people. There was buzzing life, noise and activity in the street that shocked Ryoma by the suddenness of how it had appeared, after the silence and emptiness of the alleys.
Fuji slid his hand down so he could entwine his fingers with Ryoma's, and hold them tightly in his grip. Ryoma stopped, forcing Fuji to stop and turn to look at the boy. Ryoma was staring at their joint hands, and licking his lips. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Making sure you don't get lost," Fuji answered, and squeezed.
"You could do that without having to hold my hand." Ryoma lifted his eyes to glare at Fuji. "Let go."
Fuji smiled. "No," he said. "I like holding your hand."
"Well I don't like it."
"That doesn't really matter, now does it?" Fuji asked, cocking his head, still smiling.
"Why do you want to hold my hand so badly?" Ryoma glared.
"Why does it matter to you so much that I don't?" Fuji replied. "Just let me hold your hand. There's no harm in it, is there, to grant me that little thing?" Fuji looked so solemn in his plead that Ryoma couldn't deny him, even though it still felt odd. And when he didn't try to pull his hand away, Fuji's pleased smile was so genuine that Ryoma felt a blush creep on his cheeks.
A/N: My beta says I've managed to keep Sanada in character. But he's a hard one for me to write, and it's always good to have a second opinion, so... Did I manage to keep Sanada in character?