WARNINGS: Mentions of ummm... how to say it... mature content (?) in last scene. Be warned.

Clary: Hmmm... Maybe we should have made this Rated M?

Lia: I told you to. You wouldn't listen to me.

Clary: But they're NOT going to have sex here or anything. The farthest thing they could possibly get is kissing and... well, thinking about it, as with the case of this chapter's last scene. That's NOT a Rated M thing, I think.

Lia: You and I both know why 'they're not going to have sex or anything'.

Clary: SHUT UP, LIA! (covers Lia's mouth and gets Lia's fingers away from computer)

Lia: ...

Clary: PLEASE, don't mind her. Don't mind what she said AT ALL. So, here's the next chapter! Please enjoy~

Lia: And don't worry. I made Issa delete (or rewrite) most of her 'mature content' so it should be relatively safe. We put the warning up just in case.

Clary: (: Yey~

DEATH PLAY

Written by: Clary~

Acknowledgements to: Lia (Clary's not-editor), Alatarielf (Oh my god, we love you!), neumegami (thank you so, so much, we hearts the pictures~~~~ they were SUPER AWESOME (especially the second one~), phoenixfirekitsune (thank you, and we haven't seen Alice Academy very much, either, haha~)

III. DEATH WALKER

Death, to Syusuke, wasn't the black tunnel with the light in the end that would bring you to heaven or anything of the sort. In fact, the first time he heard about the expression, he had laughed outright, and it had brought an amused smirk to even his nii-san, who was the only one, at that time, Syusuke had confided his alice to.

Death was a river, rushing, flowing water and all, with gates signifying how close a person was to true death, to the ninth and last gate.

It wasn't any different from the last time he entered it almost a year ago, but he supposed that it would always be the same, anyway, death was a constant thing and so was its river. Light was bleak, as it always was, and the sky was as grey as he remembered it being. The current in this part of the river was strong, and the water cold, eagerly trying to pull him over and carry him to true death that came through the passing of the Ninth Gate.

It didn't, though. Syusuke's alice afforded him protection from these waters, though it didn't stop the waters from taking away what color had returned to his skin during the year he hadn't entered it.

He was going to have a hard time explaining this away to nii-san tonight. He supposed he could sleep in his own room, for once, nii-san would probably like the break and some color would return during the night, along with some excuse as to why he was paler than he usually was. He wouldn't like it, he hated sleeping alone, it didn't make him feel better from the nightmares he had, the nightmares that had haunted him ever since the first time he had entered death. He never told his nii-san, of course, it would only make him worry more than he already did, but he felt infinitely better, knowing when he'd wake up, nii-san would be there, sleeping soundly, near enough for him to touch, near enough to draw calm and comfort from.

He supposed he could stand one night. Or two, just in case, though three nights would kill him, or make him go crazy, whichever one came first.

He could see the First Gate in the distance, a veil of mist with a single dark opening, the river waters flowing through to the silence beyond. He didn't know how he came by with this information, he was born with it, he supposed, the same way he was born with the alice.

He hadn't been aware of the knowledge, just that it existed and the first time he entered death, when he was three, he knew, instinctively, that that veil of mist was the First Gate, and that he shouldn't pass through the Ninth, not if he didn't want to die.

He'd seen the Ninth Gate, though, he had when he was seven. He and his nii-san were in the Academy then, when the news of their parents' death reached them and Syusuke, in his grief, flung himself to death, ran wildly along the river, passing different Gates, using the knowledge that was so instinctual to him, looking for signs that his parents might still be alive, hoping he could bring them back.

He'd been too late, all he saw was his mother's long, brown hair, before it, too, passed through the Ninth Gate, whose waters were roaring loudly, signifying that there were people, his parents, that had just passed on to true death.

He'd spent the next few hours screaming at the void, calling for his parents to come back, for the gate to give them back, screaming and screaming until there was nothing left to scream with. He'd trudged back to life so consumed with grief and woken up to find himself clutched in his brother's arms, his nii-san crying, for probably the first time in Syusuke's life, begging him to please come back, Syusuke was all he had left.

Then, he spent the next few months being sick. But it was all well and good, he was back and slowly, slowly, things went back to normal, or as normal as it could be, with nii-san taking on more missions than he could possibly handle and becoming overly paranoid about his trips to death.

There wasn't much to hope for, after all, from two kids who had lost their entire family.

... Ah, there it was.

It was a good thing it hadn't passed through the First Gate yet, still busily clinging at one of the few rocks that dotted the river. Maybe it was the reason why the current was stronger than he remembered, or maybe he hadn't entered death for so long he had forgotten, but at any rate, Syusuke was relieved he didn't have to pass through the First Gate to get the rabbit's soul.

Repercussions of bringing back a soul that has passed through the First Gate was... bad. Not to him, but to the soul he brought back. It was one of the things he inherently knew, and he didn't want to think about it, he never wanted to know it in the first place.

He calmly walked towards the still-clinging-for-life rabbit, the water merely a sensation in his ankles, though he knew it couldn't be the same for this poor animal. He reached out towards it, clutching it with both hands as it struggled, feeling the weakness of its soul, the drain it felt because of death's leeching waters.

It was slowly getting stronger, though, away from the waters like this, and Syusuke was glad as he walked happily back to life, knowing that at least, this time, he was able to save what he meant to save.

./.

The boy was Tezuka Kunimitsu's younger brother.

He remembered and recognized him because Persona somehow knew that it was physically impossible for anyone else in the whole damn world to look so much like a fucking girl. Sometimes, Persona just questioned the sanity of whoever it was arranging the universe.

A male should look like a male, damn it, and not like some girly, pretty female.

... He did not just think that.

Just the thought of him coming on to his student's little brother, not to mention his student's little male brother, not to mention his student's little male underaged brother had him... Oh, god, he really needed to get laid.

But just before he could further contemplate the thought, the kid had sharply turned to a rather unassuming (withered) bush and brushed it aside, revealing a dead rabbit.

He did not care, of course he did not care, he didn't care about more than half of his fucking students, for crying out loud, why would he care for some dead animal that just happened to get in his fucking way?

Nor did he care that Tezuka Kunimitsu's younger brother apparently cared, so what, the rabbit was dead, and there was nothing the kid can do about it, aside from, probably, burying its corpse, which, if it happened, would make Persona start questioning the world's sanity, because then, Tezuka Kunimitsu's younger brother would have not only looked like a girl, he'd have acted like a girl, too, and if that wouldn't make anyone, let alone Persona, question the sanity of anything, he didn't know what would.

But he didn't do what Persona had expected him to, he started to do it, yes, but just as his hands touched the dead rabbit, he keeled over in a faint.

At the very least, if anything, Persona knew that he was right about not wanting this kid for his Dangerous Types.

He started walking towards the kid, and abruptly paused, wondering why the hell he even cared. He didn't, of course, he told himself, he hardly cared about anybody, not to mention some girly kid that happened to be his only fucking (and completely irreplaceable) leverage over his best student.

... Shit.

But before he could even berate himself for his carelessness, what kind of person would be stupid enough to damage the person he used to pull the strings of his finest puppet?, the kid had started stirring to wakefulness. He hid himself in the shadows once more, watching the kid rise, with a now struggling, very much alive rabbit in his hands.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Persona heard, through the whirling tornado of thoughts in his brain. His heart was slamming forcefully against his ribs, adrenalin washing over his body in a great wave, and suddenly, he forgot about his frustration with Chitose Senri, he forgot about where he was, about everything, but this kid who had been able to, for some reason, bring the dead back to life.

And the rabbit had been dead, Persona killed it himself, and Persona never failed at killing something if he wanted to, it was one of the things he never failed at (but then again, he never failed at anything) and probably the only thing that filled him with so much relish.

For the first time in a long time, Persona felt excited.

He allowed himself a slow, wondering, sly smile before he left for his office to do some long-postponed research.

./.

Syusuke learned, the hard way, that entering death so abrubtly after not doing so in nearly a year, and bringing a soul back with him, to top it off (albeit a soul of a small animal, but still a soul) was not the brightest of all ideas.

He was fine, at first, and so was the rabbit, nice and alive. He'd met up with Kuranosuke and Senri at the end of Phys Ed, said hi, and yes, he was okay and it wasn't that big a deal that they left him alone and no, he most certainly did not get lost (even though he did, sort of).

He managed through the entire morning classes with just the smallest of discomforts, ate lunch with Seiichi, who had the same lunch period as him, and had made it halfway to his next class before he felt like he wanted to puke.

He ran, almost blindly (and it was lucky that there were no people in the halls at that time of day), and got to his room, then his en suite bathroom safely, before he hurled himself next to the toilet and threw up his entire lunch, and proceeded to spend his entire afternoon draped in the pristine tiles of his luxurious bathroom, his forehead pressed against the toilet's cool surface. He had felt like throwing up enough times that afternoon to last him a lifetime, and he vowed to himself, promise to his brother or not, that he was never, never going to stay away from death as long as he did.

Of course, since he hadn't eaten much during lunch, and he didn't eat a lot to begin with, his body soon realized that it didn't have anything left in it to throw up with, that had been an hour or so ago, he didn't really know, he was too dizzy and sick to care, but now, when he felt the urge to throw up again, he heaved himself up a little bit before he realized that he was retching. He'd retched a couple of times before, had more than his fair share of the experience, actually, things like that happen when you're in constant contact with death, but he'd never liked it and he suspected he wouldn't start liking it now, especially not now, when it was freezing cold (how could it be cold when it was almost summer?), when he was dizzy and when he'd spent the last six hours heaving his guts to a toilet.

It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

And somehow, even though he knew it would lead to a long, long, long lecture, he wanted his nii-san here, right now, with him, there was no one else, no one else he wanted here with him, no one else would do, but it hurt too much to even reach for his phone in his bag, flung all the way across the bathroom.

The other only alternative was sleep, which he didn't want, he didn't want the nightmares, not when he was sick like this, especially not when he was sick like this because nightmares that happened when he was at his weakest were always the worst.

Emaciated corpses walking towards him, always towards him, men, women, children, the smell of blood, a river of blood, a wave of blood, droplets steadily dripping, drip drip drip, never stopping, darkness, always darkness, his parents, his parents, his mother's screams, so loud, so, so loud...

It took him a while to notice that he was screaming along with her.

./.

He was stubborn, but by the time six o' clock had come and gone, Tezuka finally got his head wrapped around the thought that glaring at his door wouldn't make it open with Syusuke at his doorstep, asking to sleep in his bed.

Somehow, he was glad, he was worried, of course he would be worried, but he was glad.

He didn't have any classes with Syusuke, because Syusuke was a year behind him. He could've had German with Syusuke, like Yukimura and Atobe (who barely even went, so he didn't count) who were the same year as Tezuka but Tezuka was a master at German and he didn't feel the need to spend an hour and a half of every other day learning things he already knew just so he could hover over his brother when that same time could've been better spent at a more constructive elective class.

Besides, Yukimura had eaten lunch with Syusuke and had said it was all fine.

He should stop worrying over Syusuke, and start worrying about his, well, It... But he just didn't want to think about... He didn't.

"Ne, Tezuka, are you actually one of those types who have less than innocent intentions towards their brothers?"

He'd thought about that over and over, he'd thought about his initial reaction, the conversation and he was exhausted because... because...

Because what if his reaction was only because it was the honorable, the right thing to think?

"Ne, Tezuka, are you actually one of those types who have less than innocent intentions towards their brothers?"

A lot of people, all those who knew them, anyway, looked at Syusuke all of once and... commented on his looks. A lot of people called Syusuke beautiful. A lot of people looked at Syusuke like... like...

"Probably half the people in this room watched you when you came in, and are still watching you now, because they are imagining in their head what it would feel like to strip you naked and fuck you against the nearest hard surface they could find."

And Tezuka, because it was the honorable and right thing to do, promised to himself that he'd defend Syusuke from those people, and he wanted to, heaven knows how much he wanted to... but... but what if it was hard?

...What if... what if it was hard like this... when... when... It was bound to be hard, he knew it was bound to be hard, considering how... how Syusuke looked to everyone and how he was unaware of his effect on others... but what if it was harder than that? Because... Because...

Because it was bound to be even harder when Tezuka was one of those people.

How... How can he protect Syusuke from himself?

"Ne, Tezuka, are you actually one of those types who have less than innocent intentions towards their brothers?"

He'd watched Syusuke grow, he'd spent his entire life with his brother, and before... before, when they were just children, it wasn't so hard... it wasn't so hard to admit to himself that he found his brother attractive.

Syusuke is...

Syusuke is...

Syusuke is...

Syusuke. Is...

Damn it, Syusuke is... beautiful.

Was that so hard?

Yes, yes it was. Because whenever Tezuka let himself think that... whenever Tezuka allowed himself to think that...

The unmarred, pale, flawless swanlike column of his throat. The graceful curve of his spine. His eyes, so, so blue, like the sky...

"Ne, Tezuka, are you actually one of those types who have less than innocent intentions towards their brothers?"

And the way... the way Syusuke kept coming to him at night, wanting to sleep in his bed, eyes so trusting, so sure. The way Syusuke allowed himself to be held at night. The way Syusuke's hair always smelled like vanilla. The way...

The way Tezuka would watch him sleep, the moonlight falling on his body, making him look even more beautiful, making him look ethereal. The way Tezuka would wake up from a dream he barely remembered having only to find himself rock hard in his pants, and he would pull away, with so much effort. The way Tezuka would return from a cold, cold shower, settle himself at the far end of the bed away from his brother, but still altogether too close. The way he couldn't bring himself to stay away, just stay away. The way...

The way he knew how close they were, how easy it would be to close the distance, how easy it would be to strip away whatever oversized top Syusuke was wearing, how easy it would be to hold his brother down when he... if he...

There was pain in his knuckles and that was when Tezuka belatedly realized that he had punched the wall... Or, more appropriately, slammed his fist on it.

"Ne, Tezuka, are you actually one of those types who have less than innocent intentions towards their brothers?"

God, what was wrong with him?

He loved his brother, he, of all people should know how much he loved his brother, and he tried to stop, just stop, right there, he won't go on, he won't think past that, he won't... Or so he tries to delude himself.

Because he, (oh, how soft Syusuke's lips would be, against his own) of all people, (how good it would feel to have Syusuke writhing beneath him, completely in his mercy) knew.

He knew (how pleasurable it would be, having Syusuke gasp his name with his voice, resplendent, like a bird's song).

There was more to it than that.

"Ne, Tezuka, are you actually one of those types who have less than innocent intentions towards their brothers?"

Chitose Senri had absolutely no idea how close he had struck to home.

Clary: I. AM. PEEVED.

Lia: Is this because of 'mature content' again? Because I thought we settled it already.

Clary: No, it's not because of mature content. It's a whole different big thing entirely.

Lia: ... ... ... ... (long pause) Oh, was I supposed to ask about it? Sorry. Wait one moment. (clears throat) Oh, Issa, what are you peeved about this time?

Clary: (ignoring Lia's sarcasm) BECAUSE, Lia, I have such sucky scene cuts~~~~ (wails) Why won't fanfiction not save my awesome scene cuts? Now I have to use this: ./. and it's... it's... Waaaaaaaaah~~

Lia: ... This is the reason why you're peeved?

Clary: YES. (cries some more)

Lia: Honestly, Issa. Seriously?

Clary: Seriously. It's such a sucky scene cut~~~~~ What kind of scene cut is ./. ? A SUCKY ONE, that's what. How can I get nice scene cuts? Nooooooooo!

Lia: ... Please review and ignore Ms. Drama Queen over there. (Issa, I think, needs a shrink)