Dark Adaptation

by Hickok

NEW CONTENT ADDED! Bound to the eternal contract, can a life of sin be so easily shed? Muraki has all that he desires, yet so much remains unanswered. What manner of darkness unfurled between the walls of Muraki manor? Muraki x Tsuzuki and Oriya x Watari

16. Cutthroat Eurynomous: Part 2

Dark Adaptation

Disclaimer: I don't own Descendants of Darkness, Yami no Matseui, or the person who created it. I own very little of anything, I even borrow most of my rather explicit yaoi anime. (Sighs) Maybe I'll own something of my very own one day, but we won't hold or breath, eh?

A/N: This is Part 2 of Cutthroat Eurynomous. There are four parts in total, all normal chapter sized additions. Oh and a fair warning, there are some disturbing elements in this chapter, violence wise that is. I'm sure everyone would be able to handle it but it's better that you know now and spare me the trouble of hearing anyone's complaints later. With that being said I hope you all enjoy!

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"Ahhhh!" Ichibana sighed as he plonked himself down on the park wall and stretched his arms up over his head. "What a night! Man, I guess the rumors were true after all. Kyoto sure has some delicious auras! The people here are friendly… and the spirit energy is so high! This would be the place to retire if Hell wasn't top o' my list."

He chuckled happily to himself as he rested his hands on the wall, swinging his mostly bare legs casually to and fro. It was a warm night and the bars he had visited had been hopping. Everyone he had spoken to had been so down to earth and pleasant. Not that he particularly cared how people spoke to him. But light, cheerful atmospheres were always more conducive to accelerated aura refuse then any other emotion, besides lust, that is. All in all, the djinni felt thoroughly sated. Perhaps he would be able to endure his entrapment for a little longer at this rate and if Watari remained lenient with him, he would even let him keep his life after he freed Ichibana from his sentence. Which was quite a remarkable decision for a djinni to make. Most Underdwellers desired vengeance for their sustained imprisonment but Ichibana had found the blond scientist to be a more sympathetic master then most. Enough so that he was willing to let the last 14 years of humiliation slide… maybe.

The djinni chuckled to himself as a red blush sprouted on both his cheeks. "Man, I've spent WAY too long in this Skin() asylum. I'm startin' to get soft… To think, that that nerd doesn't have it comin' to 'im! Still… it would be an awful shame to kill him after all this time. … He's been like a little brother ta me. A pain in the ass but nonetheless… " He giggled again, this time his tone held a malevolent tinge. "Ah well… I'm sure I can think o' somethin' more original to punish him with other than death… That would be more befitting I think, for someone like as him…"

(Note: Skin is the word that djinni use to describe humans. Since djinni have no physical form. Ichibana only has a physical form because he stole it from an upper level demon and now resides inside of it. This is to keep his essence from wearing out whilst he is on earth, which is what happens when spiritual forms stay in this realm too long. This is why most demon's and angels hijack a body, so that they can move around without becoming strained. Generally, upper level demons and angels are capable of designing a body of their own, for use whilst within the Casual space. Okay, class adjourned!)

Ichibana ducked behind the wall for a moment and then reappeared seconds later, a butterscotch colored trenchcoat wrapped around his body. The flashy ensemble had been to lure humans in and now that he had satisfied himself for the evening, there really was no need to further forego comfort. He perched himself back atop the wall, legs spread out across the top and directed his attention toward the clear night sky. The stars were winking happily to one another; the three quarter moon monitored their flirtatious behavior with an approving smile. A light breeze blew…

It was a gorgeous night.

Ichibana smiled lightly as the wind tussled his hair to one side. A group of girls passed by, chattering excitedly to one another and occasionally stumbling over their own feet. Clearly drunk. They noticed Ichibana sitting there reclusively and called out to him, waving their arms in exaggerated excitement. The djinni smirked as he acknowledged their greeting with a wave of his own hand. He was glad however when they continued on their way, giggling happily to one another and occasionally glancing over their shoulders at his receding figure. The djinni had endured quite enough human companionship for the night. This time of reflection was his and his alone.

It's hard ta believe that bubble-brain could find love in a place like this, Ichibana thought, returning his eyes to the sky. He thought for a moment that he saw something racing across the few clouds that lingered before the stars view but dismissed it as nothing. Or at least nothing that required expending any energy over. I guess he thinks he truly loves him, the dork. After only a week… damn humans can be SO predictable. Poor guy's probably gonna get his heart broken… The djinni reached up to touch the clasp on the shell of his pointed ear. Whaddya reckon, Isaac? Am I bein' too narrow-minded as per usual? … Can't blame four-eyes for thinkin' all those mushy thoughts about the Samurai. He's certainly got a lot goin' for him. Though I can't help but suspect he's got somethin' up his sleeve. … No one's that nice. Not unless they want somethin'. And why would a guy like him be wastin' himself on the boss? Watari's cute and all and I suppose he's nice enough but he ain't great… I reckon he's wonderin' the exact same thing. 'What's Oriya doing messin' around with me?' Makes no sense. I think there's somethin' else goin' on, Isaac. Like he's up ta somethin'. He is a friend o' Muraki's after all and there just ain't no trustin' that guy. Or… am I jus' bein' paranoid?

Isaac had no answer. But then again, how could he? He had been dead for more than three hundred years. Ichibana sighed and lowered his head, understanding very well that the only answers to his questions would be provided in the passing of time. It was hard not to be anxious however. This case was so personal to Watari… He should never have been allowed to take it in the first place, no matter how obligated he felt. His presence was far too incriminating.

"I wonder if that guy Oriya knows how much Seki meant ta the scatterbrain?" The djinni mused, eyes once again trained on the sky. "He probably just thinks Watari's some weirdo who has tearies over every little death he comes inta contact with. If he had any idea… tha strength it took for 'im ta come back ta this place… Isaac… this wicked web has been wound around us all. I think we're well and truly trapped now and I can't shake the feelin that somethin' nasty is gonna-… hold the phone…"

For what had walked past Ichibana's perch at that very moment had been anything but nasty. It was a slender youth, moving with a cute, yet somehow sexy demeanor, hips swaying to and fro with the experience of a prostitute. Ichibana leapt off of the wall, surveying the youth intently.

"What a babe! She looks familiar somehow… like we've met before… Heh, well if THAT isn't the lamest pick up line."

The girl looked as though she were little older than thirteen or fourteen and was inappropriately sensuous if indeed so. Her legs were long and shapely, her feet bound in a pair of very high red open toed heels. Yet she walked with grace and poise, as though the formidable height that the shoes elevated her feet to, did not affect her balance at all. The long, tanned length of her legs disappeared at the very last minute, beneath the wall of a tight flesh colored mini-skirt, her thong straps protruding from the top and slung over curvy, well-defined hips. The only other piece of material she was wearing was a torn off crop top that hung off of one shoulder whilst lamely clinging to the other with sliding fingers. It was black with a big 03 on the front and ended beneath where a woman's breasts would normally sit. In this case the girl was either a very late bloomer or she wasn't likely to develop breasts at all. Her chest was completely flat.

Her hair was bleached white-blond with at least two inches of black re-growth creeping outwards from the part. It was cut short on one side, the strands brushed outwards in jagged edges over her tanned shoulder, whilst on the other side the hair was waist length and tied back in a low ponytail. The girl certainly stood out, even by Ichibana's standards. He stepped onto the path, watching her steady journey to the far side of the park.

"Hmm… it's awfully late for such a young thing ta be wanderin' around on the streets. There are perverts like me out and about after all. A gentleman should do the courteous thing and escort her home… too bad there ain't none 'round." He stretched uncaringly and yawned, seriously considering just letting the matter drop but something was tugging callously on the corners of his senses. His blood red eyes turned back towards the girl. "Somethin' about her… it's makin' my senses tingle. And not in the ways a pretty gal should… This is weird. I wonder where she's heading?"

Curiosity got the best of the djinni and knowing full well that it was indeed this factor that killed most four legged felines; Ichibana nabbed a hold of his ironic streak and ducked behind the wall, where he immediately transformed into a white Siamese cat. He emerged, arching his back and stretching all his claws out, one by one before bounding after the strangely dressed individual.

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It tried to make its way in through the back, but the Bouncers there were persistently unreceptive to the pretty face that implored them as a young girl might be expected to.

"I'm sorry but we can't let you in without any ID." They trotted out the same tired old excuse the idiots at the front entrance had. The Prince was tired of hearing it and felt rather in the mood for tearing their intestines out through their navels and presenting THAT as identification. But that would have drawn far too much attention. And ruined its attire at that.

"We have to be careful you know." The other Bouncer said reasonably. "We could lose our jobs if we let a kid come inside. The policy of Ra's Sunline is pretty strict and think of how upset your parents would be if something were to happen to you."

It had no parents. It had no reason to be afforded such pathetic concern from two humans nonetheless. It needed to get inside. Its' quarry was in there. The blond haired one of the Sixth division, the one that their beholden clung to even after death.

Yutaka Watari was in Ra's Sunline. It could sense him. It could sense him ever since he was born. It had been designated the task of sighting the blond one by Mitkiel and the feeling of Watari's presence was never absent from its' senses. Now, it was strong like the most pungent odor. For the very first time, it was so close… and for all intentions of performing its task discreetly, it could do nothing to bridge the gap. The inside of the club remained elusive, as did its' quarry.

"You guys are cruel… picking on a sweet little girl like me," the creature whimpered, clasping both hands before its body in a false expression of incorruptibility.

One of the Bouncers raised his eyebrow. "I'm not even sure if you are a girl to be perfectly honest…"

His fellow Bouncer looked horrified at this suggestion and the creature mimicked his reaction, whilst inside it secretly grinned at the humans' insight. It was turning out to be quite a fulfilling night in its own way.

"Hear now! You should know better than to speak that way!" The second Bouncer smiled gently and leant down, as though the personal proximity would make up for what he must have felt was a horrendous show of rudeness. "I'm very sorry, young lady, but I really can't let you come in. Why don't you head to that underage club just down the road? They don't serve alcohol but I think everyone there has a pretty good time regardless. Off you go now."

"Okay, okay, I'm going." The creature grunted, turning on its heel and marching off back down the alley. So far, all its tactics to gain entry to the club had been a total bust. If only it hadn't designed itself a body that appeared underage by human standards. Mara would have had no difficulty at all, penetrating the clubs defenses. But this wasn't Mara's task. It was the Prince's. So, regardless of the imposed, unavoidable difficulties, the creature did not have the benefit of backing down. It had to get to Watari somehow. It had to impose its lesson on the blond as Balban had done the lavender-eyed creature, Asato Tsuzuki and the soul-devouring witch, Kazutaka Muraki.

The answer came, in a far preferential package, delivered signed, stamped and sealed to the Prince's very doorstep. It came in the form of four men, late twenties at most, who came sauntering up to the front entrance of Ra's Sunline as the creature exited the alley from where the rear entrance was located. As soon as it appeared the four males fixated their drunken, sexually ignited attention on the Prince and made their way over. It watched their approach, unconcerned as to what their intentions were. It belonged to Mara. If they were to try anything that would leave their disgusting human stink behind, its' mate would see to it that they were punished accordingly.

"Well, aren't you a prized peach?"

What a hassle…

The Prince smiled cheerfully and raised its' hand.

"Good evening, boys."

The men leered as one. A collective snake like smile slithered across their lower faces, leaving a cruel malignant trail in its' wake.

"What a sweet little princess." The tallest, a man with messy blue-black hair, said, leaning forward and all but pressing his face against the creature's. It could smell heavy liquor on his breath. "You're a little younger than I prefer… still, bet you taste as sweet as a peach."

"You got a boyfriend?" One of his companions asked. He was smoking, the gray chemical remnants rising upward toward the night sky in a misshapen dance. The Prince's smile never faded.

"I cannot lie to appease you gentleman. I indeed have a partner. Rather a fiancée, whom loves me passionately. I don't suppose he would approve of your advances toward me, let alone were it to descend into… tasting."

The smoking one snickered. "Bummer. Still, not that I don't like a challenge."

"You're not wearing a ring." One of the other men contested. He grabbed the creature's hand roughly and jolted it up to reveal the bare stretch of its ring finger. The Prince continued to smile, even as its' arm was being painfully yanked out of joint. It would have been an insignificant expenditure of energy.

"No… our kind generally do not wear a ring on our finger as a sign of commitment." It said sweetly, making no move to retrieve its hand from the males clutches. The remaining man swigged from a bottle he was carrying before speaking.

"Your kind? Gaijin's?" He asked.

Its smile remained unmoving but as it raised its head, allowing them to clearly see its pupil-less yellow eyes, the effect was so powerful that one might have believed that the creature's lips split through its cheeks, giving it a fearsome, animalistic appearance.

"No. Demons." It avowed. And then it cast its spell, all the while smiling. From its' spare hand, raised and extended, fingers and thumb branched evenly apart, the Hypnotic Seed passed through its material body and spread out to encompass the senses of the four males before it. Having virtually no mana at its disposal, the Hypnotic Seed was the only spell the Prince could cast and it only possessed a quarter of the effect it would otherwise contain if cast by a demon with higher magical abilities. "I shouldn't concern myself with the dull witted intentions of you matted, tangled humans. However… so that you know for future reference, we demons wear a clasp upon the shell of our ears to show that we are betrothed to another." Freeing its hand from the constriction of the man who now stood frozen, his eyes glazed over, the Prince brushed back the hair from its right ear to reveal the long rectangular clasp stapled into the upper most ridge. "Let's see now… I wanted to get into this club but unfortunately, those mean old Bouncers won't let me pass through the doors."

The men wobbled a little unsteadily on their feet. The dark haired one rubbed his forehead, dazed from the weak influence spell that the creature had leveled against them.

"Well… I'm sorry babe, but there's not much we can do about it. Can't very well sneak you in under our coats now, can we?"

The Prince beamed up at him. "Oh, but that doesn't really matter to me. I wanted to go inside, so that I could speak with a friend of mine, but, unfortunately, he is beyond my reach. … Say…" At this under-veiled insinuation, the demon crept forward and pressed both hands to the foremost man's shoulders, tilting its face up so that its rosy lips were a bare inch from his. "Would you help me? I really want to see this friend of mine… If you'd do this favor for me, I'll make sure that you're all aptly rewarded… Perhaps I'll allow you all to sample the flesh of this peach…"

"O… Of course… we'd be glad to help." The dark haired one said, speaking for all of them. "What's your friend look like? You want us to bring him out here to see you?"

The Prince smirked, running its finger down the shirtfront of the man he was leaning against. Something flashed through its eyes, the smile never faltering for a second.

"He is a blond man, with long wavy hair. He wears round glasses. His eyes are the color of amber. And there is no need to bring him out here… the message is very simple. All I need is for you to drop this into his drink…" It slipped a small, indistinguishable capsule into the mans' palm, folding his rough, calloused fingers over it. "Bring him to the back alley. And after that, consider whatever desires you enact with him as your reward."

"That's the message you want to send to your friend?"

"It's a message from his past. He'll get the point."

Tsuzuki

"This place is not fit for you."

"Yeah, that's what I keep trying to tell my boss." I said, tilting back my mug and draining the last of the hot chocolate out of it. "He seems to think that because I have a tendency to snack whilst doing paper work and take the odd nap here and there, that it justifies dealing me out the teeniest pay check ever."

Muraki shook his head and took a sip of his tea. For some reason, the consumption of his drink seemed to require an exceptional amount of effort on his behalf.

"Utter rubbish." He said, referring of course to my miniscule pay and not to my tea. I should hope.

"Would you rub my feet?" I asked, plonking my heels down in his lap and flashing a large, toothy grin in his direction. We were sitting on the couch, watching the television whilst we drank our beverages. Well… at least I was watching. Muraki seemed to find the air above the television set to be more captivating than the screen itself. I figured he might as well have made a more productive use for his attention, if he was going to be collecting dust in my apartment.

Muraki frowned, set down his teacup and hesitantly poked my right foot. I wiggled my toes in response.

"Why on earth would I want to do a thing like that?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Because…" I said, my voice dangerous. "I was kind enough to let you stay for a drink that I prepared. Because I let you sit on my couch. Because I let you kiss me. And because the heel of my foot is about two inches away from your groin and twould be a terrible pity if I were to bridge the gap and get them acquainted… Now rub, Mr. Fishcake! ( It's because of you that I'm so stressed out to begin with! The least you could do is relieve me of some of that tension!"

((Note: Fishcake is the threat Muraki used in the manga version of the King of Swords arc, in order to get Tsuzuki to comply with him. Fishcake is basically used in the same context as "Shark-bait" or "feeding the fishes.")

There was a silence as my toes wriggled and Muraki stared at them with an unchanging expression. Finally, he lowered his hands and at the same time, met my eyes with the powerful singular gaze of his own.

"You could make love with me." He said. I snorted hot chocolate out my nose.

"What has THAT got to do with rubbing my feet!" I exclaimed hysterically, trying to pull my legs back and yelping as Muraki's hand bypassed my feet completely and laced underneath my thigh, cupping the veiled flesh and trailing up towards the curve of my ass. I quickly brought my legs back down, squashing his hands against the sofa and effectively halting his progress. It didn't keep him from squeezing my thigh from beneath however.

"Making love is a perfect way to release tension." Muraki said, his eye wide as if to say 'DUH!' "And if it is indeed my fault that you are so tense, why then it is my responsibility to help ease you of that terrible strain!" He moved forward sinuously, traveling over my body with his eye half lidded and a dreamy slightly parted smile marring his features. His free hand came over my knee and dipped down across the thigh that held the other trapped. I pressed my lips tightly together and pulled my cup in taut against my chest, as though it were an effective shield that would keep him at bay.

Muraki knelt his forehead against mine and then, in an unusual move, began to nuzzle me like a cat, running his chin over my hairline, his nose across mine, and his lips over my eyes.

"When a rose is freed from its' tension, it unfurls and blooms, in order to express its passionate release. Hence, we can attribute it to such phrases as 'deflowering'. Regardless, it might be you, the tightly wound bud of a rose Mr. Tsuzuki, that my own eyes shall bear witness as you unfurl and blossom beneath me. Free of tension… free of anxiety…" His lips came very close to mine and I felt my heart speed up at the bittersweet proximity. "Would you like that? Shall I press apart your petals and open you up? Shall you reveal your complete form to me, until now secreted? Shall I make you bloom beneath me?"

All I could register at that moment was the oblique feeling of my nose threatening to bloom right out onto Muraki's very white shirt. I pressed the cup over face, tilting my upper body backwards until it was arched over the arm of the sofa.

"You idiot perve!" I yelled, kicking my legs wildly to discourage his touch. He somehow managed to hold on, even though I was jiggling around like a bad tempered bull at one of the Uwajima Sumo bullfights I had seen a few years back. "Why do you have to make all of those gross euphemisms between sex and roses? It's so creepy!"

"I happened to think it was rather romantically inclined myself." Muraki said, looking a little downtrodden. He shrugged and the continued to breach my last few millimeters of personal space. I yipped as he wrested his arms around me and tugged me into his chest, rubbing his face up against the side of mine as he grinned like an idiot. He was even making stupid mewing noises like a cat.

"Stop that!" I insisted but I got the feeling Muraki was beyond paying attention. Damn, he could behave so stupidly when he wanted to!

"Now don't you worry, Mr. Tsuzuki!" He assured me, his hands inching down my back. The guy wasn't under the impression that he was being subtle was he? If so, he was doing a very poor job of evading my attention. "I'll make you happy!"

"Just make me happy by rubbing my feet!" I whined, trying without much success to wriggle out of his grip. Dammit, one week apart and Muraki had gone even crazier than he was to begin with! And that was certainly saying something!

"We'll do this and then a little bit of that and then we should try that too and that one in particular would be nice and as for the Grand Finale… well… ah the variations…" The doctor mused, managing to keep me trapped in his grip whilst he gazed into thin air and contemplated the possibilities with his finger on his chin. I was glad that I wasn't privy to his thought bubble at that precise moment as I'm sure the contents would have warranted a censor bar in my own field of reception.

"We won't be doing anything like that!" I informed him and then, before I could lose my nerve, shoved him back and scooted across the couch, until I was able to curl up in a tight ball, knees up against my chest. I put the empty cup down on the floor, trusting it to be safe for the time being. "That's so like you Muraki… to think that sex is going to fix every problem, cure every ailment, eradicate any symptom of guilt that you've upended on me! You! A doctor! A doctor should know better, dammit!" I turned my face away, annoyed at his lack of clemency towards me, particularly in light of how he had treated me the previous week. Were we just going to return to our old games of cat and mouse and forget everything else? My heart felt heavy with the weight of my shame and anger.

I twitched and uttered a small gasp as I registered the back of Muraki's hand sliding across my cheek, the fingers curled in towards the palm, though the index relaxed and lightly stroked my skin, affectionately as one might rub behind a cats ear. An offensive, non-abrasive contact. A chuckle emanated from behind me.

"You're so cute, Mr. Tsuzuki." The doctor mused thoughtfully, as though this had been the first time he had noticed it. "However, I must admit that I feel rather cheated that it is you who would assume such an indignant air with me, what when I am more deserving of exhibiting it myself."

"How so?" I snorted, aware that my forehead was wrinkling like that of a cantankerous old man. Those lines don't go away you know, Tsuzuki!

Muraki smiled congenially. "Why, that would be because I have held up my end of the bargain. I have not fed on anyone since we made our promise, Mr. Tsuzuki. My mana has dilapidated as a result and I feel weak and sluggish many nights but it is the sacrifice I have made in return… in return for your resistance, your anger… I do believe that you are not effectively sharing the load, my love."

"Who's your love?" I snapped. I said I had a temper.

"My point exactly." He removed his hand from the proximity of my skin and rested back against the far arm of the sofa, fingers folded together regally and one leg crossed casually over the other. One might have now taken his position to suggest that he was critically analyzing a patient in his office, rather than attempting to seduce the mixed blood Guardian of Death. His smile was rancorously pleasant. "So then… I take it that you are not open to the concept of making love? Would I be correct?"

I relaxed somewhat and settled comfortably in my seat; reaching up to brush my intrusive bangs out of my eyes. My cheek was cold from where his skin was now absent.

"I'm not in the mood for love tonight."

Muraki tapped his fingers, glancing down as though there was some manner of inconsistency regarding his cuticles. It was truly a bizarre manner in which to conduct this particular conversation. I couldn't even mention sex or making love without blushing and here Muraki could beat up a million euphemisms and mix erotic metaphors with culinary simplicity.

"I see. … And there is no chance that you might give me the opportunity to persuade you otherwise? I am a professional you know."

I swallowed very heavily. "Um… no."

"Well then," He dropped his hand back down into his lap and met my eyes, his smile consistently charming, even though I understood very well that he had suffered a rather disappointing setback. "What is that we should do to occupy ourselves for the night then?"

I thought about this for a minute and then, without further ado, slapped my heels back down into his lap.

"You can rub my feet!"

He rubbed my feet. I won't deny it; he was amazing at it. I'd had a couple of serious boyfriends as a Guardian of Death but I'd never had anyone who would rub my feet or pamper me in such a sensuous, relaxing way. Muraki's doctors' degree went to great use as he sought out all the pressure points, the sweet spots, the small lumps of tension… I found myself spouting out something rather embarrassing at one stage; telling him that I was his forever and that he should take me now. My only excuse is that the curative sensations got the better of me. I quickly rectified my mistake the second I saw Muraki's victorious expression and he all but pounced on me, full of diligent praise and promises 'to be gentle.' He sulked for a good three minutes after I had refuted him. It didn't take long at all for relaxation to take over and I dozed off once or twice there against the arm of the sofa. It was the constant suspicions of what Muraki might have done to my prone unconscious body that kept snapping me awake at the last second.

We even made small talk. Muraki told me all about Saiki and the woman that he had treated for the brain aneurysm. I told him all about Watari and Oriya and questioned his part in the whole debacle. For some reason, this seemed to amuse him.

"What's so funny?" I had to ask as he chuckled softly from behind the cup of his fist. He unfolded his clenched fingers to alternatively wave them in my direction.

"Oh, it's nothing, Mr. Tsuzuki." He said, still smiling as he wrapped his hand firmly around the toes on my right foot and squeezing firmly. "I just felt Oriya could use some companionship of the romantic persuasion. He hasn't been with anyone for three years."

"I'm sure Watari can help sort through his tension." I said, knowing my friend a little too well.

Muraki smiled as he ran his thumb firmly down the center of my foot. "Indeed I was under the same impression myself. Rather an unlikely pair though, wouldn't you say?"

And that was all that was said. The topic shifted. We spoke of books, movies, little inconsequential things that nonetheless bridged substantial gaps and encouraged some sense of familial harmony between us. I was very surprised to find that I had adjusted rather comfortably in Muraki's presence and this only lead to my feeling pissed off again. Almost as though I was obligated to feel ornery with him in the same room.

An hour passed. Time ticked by but it didn't drag. I was content…

Content… content in the presence of such a cruel, sadistic man…

Oh… I'm bad aren't I? I'm so bad…

"There is something I must ask of you…" Muraki's voice was cool and temperate, how it usually came when he was discussing something serious. I was a little surprised at this sudden shift in tone temperature. We had been discussing whether or not Afros suited Japanese people, so it was a rather alarming transfusion to make.

"Oooh, that's a bit of an 'uh-oh' tone," I established, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt. My voice betrayed my anxiety however and trembled from layer to layer. Muraki smiled a little, obviously noticing and ran his hand along my lower leg in something of a soothing mechanism.

"There's no reason for you to fear what it is that I am going to ask of you. It simply pertains to my magical abilities," He explained gently. I could feel his fingernails through my pajama pants, scraping across the solid line of my skin. "It has been at least 3 months or so since I have fed on a human soul. Ordinarily, I would have converted this raw essence into mana, which would ably maintain and progress my abilities and enable me to effectively hold the Shukusatsu, or the Withering as it were, at bay. Up until now, there have been no major difficulties doing so. However, taking into consideration the events that transpired one week ago, I have been led me to believe that it may be in our best interests that I regain at least a marginal amount of essence, so that I might be able to protect you, if indeed the time calls for it."

I knew what he was suggesting and I sure as hell didn't like it. My lip curled up slightly and I desperately wanted to return to the silly, meaningless conversation about Afros. There was no evading this however and instead of running away, I had no alternative but to face it head on.

"I don't need your protection, Muraki." I stated firmly. His one visible eye narrowed.

"It would be my obligation, regardless of whether you think you need it or not." He axed down forcibly on the word think, to make sure that I was aware that he doubted the validity of my statement. "Do not forget that you are mine, Mr. Tsuzuki. I must be strong enough to make others that desire you, understand very well that I am a powerful, dangerous mate and that I do pose a threat to them, should they encroach upon you. I must be able to keep you safe from them."

There was that 'you're mine' stuff again. I truly think that Muraki had me mistaken for another one of his dolls. I tried not to think of the time that Tatsumi had sold me to him for 5000 0000 yen. () Maybe that's why he thought that he owned me? If that was the case, then half of the Ministry owned me. Tatsumi had made a profitable enterprise, selling me off to people for ridiculous sums of dough.

(Note: Featured in the Drama CD: Summer Vacation. Yeah! Gotta love Tatsumi! His loyalty astounds me.)

"What do you suggest then? I don't begrudge you wanting to protect your own hide… or mine for that matter. But not at the expense of someone living!"

He chuckled mysteriously and placed his fingers on the curve of my chin. I didn't like the intent way he was staring at me but this was Muraki however and I was so used to feeling like that around him that I barely gave it a second thought.

"Why… the act of energy consumption, does not necessarily entail the devouring of souls entirely," He said, brushing his white fingernails across my flesh. I trembled slightly at this preliminary touch. "I can also absorb essence from those that are already dead… Guardians for example… I could use them say, almost as one might use a battery."

I knew what was coming next. "You want to use me?"

He smiled, teeth showing slightly. "Not slow tonight are you? Indeed Mr. Tsuzuki. I was wondering if perhaps I might borrow some of your energy… A little at each meeting, should be more than adequate to keep my powers aptly regenerated. And essence of the Guardian's soul is guaranteed to rejuvenate, so there is very little to fear."

"Easy for you to say…" I mumbled, running my finger down along the creases in his palm, trailing the nail around in a slight circle as I thought his request over. All up, I could see the benefits of allowing him to 'feed' off of me. There would certainly be no need for killing if I were to provide him with the one requisite. Still… something about the whole affair didn't sit right with me. "How would you go about getting it?"

"There are a number of ways," Muraki stated, sliding along the couch so that now my knees were hooked over his lap and his hands were resting on the bent curve of my legs. "Some are more… erotic than others… some more satisfying… some more painful… The most obvious method is through touch, as simple as we are now. However, there are many constrictions that mar the process and unless the need is strong enough, there are likely to be complications. Through the mouth is better… though I must admit, the most effective process is through exchanging bodily fluids."

"Bodily… fluids…?"

"It's how most diseases are spread." The doctor explained, shrugging his shoulders differentially. "And it is through the fluids of the body in which the particular signature of the individual essence is carried. Those fluids that supplement life force such as blood and semen. The best way of doing this would be for your fluids to pass into me."

"Ah…" I said, feeling my cheeks going all hot and red. Dammit, could I be any more like a pubescent kid? "Meaning that I would either have to… uh…"

"Penetrate me, ejaculate into my mouth or allow me to partake of your blood." He all but cheered, stretching up in order to angle his body across mine. I felt his shadow pass over me and I shied back, finding my legs trapped by the strong, unyielding force of his arms again. His grin widened only further as I sat up, pulling away and turning my back on him. My brain was whirring far too rapidly to allow the clearest semblance of comprehensible consideration. "Since you have no desire for 'love' as you so eloquently put it, my darling, I believe the simplest choice would be to allow me permission to imbibe your vitae. Mr. Tsuzuki… doesn't the thought excite you?" I felt the sofa shift beneath Muraki's weight as he sidled up behind me, lacing his long legs around my waist and pinning either side securely between his thighs. I pulled a face, not at the contact but at what he was suggesting.

"You may be surprised to realize this, Muraki but unlike you I don't get turned on over blood and gore. Nor the thought of someone nipping at my neck like a vampire, thankyou very much."

Muraki grinned and trained his hands down across my chest, darting around the formation of my muscles beneath the wall of my sleeping t-shirt.

"I had no intention of taking the blood from your neck," He informed me sinuously and just when I thought the dynamics of our situation could not possibly become any creepier, his hands dipped between my thighs and trapped my hidden penis. "There is a juicy vein in your groin which I do believe will sate me in many more ways than one, my love…"

"Muraki!" I hissed and my sentence ruptured into a moan as he brought his face down over my right shoulder and kissed the shell of my ear, running his tongue along the ridge. His fingers didn't move to stimulate my groin but rather the pressure tightened atop my cock, forcing heated breaths out of the depths of my throat. It seemed he could persuade me after all.

"I think that you missed me more than you let on, Mr. Tsuzuki." His face passed from my right shoulder, to my left and his voice became a hushed susurration. "Were the nights long and cold… with only the memory of my touch to keep you company? There's no denying…." His voice lowered even further as one of his hands abandoned its post in order to conduct reconnaissance underneath the wall of my t-shirt, fingers rubbing erotically across the flesh veiled beneath. I bit my lip to keep from embarrassing myself. "- that these fingers certainly missed you."

"Stop it…" I begged, not really sure if I meant it. Muraki laughed sadistically, sensing my internal battle.

"I cannot do that, Mr. Tsuzuki." He told me, as his fingers continued to circle warm insinuations across my stomach. My bottom lip was trembling and there were strangled, unfamiliar noises breaching outward from my tight throat. "It has been one long week since the last moment I was able to touch you… if absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder, then is it any wonder that my heart throbs so overwhelmingly for you?" He kissed the side of my neck; freeing the hand that had been on my stomach and lifting it up to gently tug the lobe of my ear. I felt a mounting pleasure sift through my senses at this simple but provocative touch. "Are you aware, Mr. Tsuzuki… that stimulation of the pressure points in the ear are conducive to inducing sexual drive?"

I groaned. It couldn't be helped; the feeling was altogether too good for there to be any need to articulate myself. Even if it did make me weak, I wanted to release that stem of excitement fluxing through me and express it.

"Muraki… oh…" My mouth dropped, eyes shut and head tilting back as the fingers still residing on my groin tufted innocently across the thin material outlining my roused flesh. I was starting to wish that I had worn boxers beneath my pajama pants. I felt as exposed as a woman might have whilst wearing a white t-shirt with no bra underneath. Muraki's fingers fell away from my ear, only to replace them with his plush, wet lips. His breath was hot against my skin, so hot it resembled steam that could bead my sweat upon my flesh as it rose from the pores.

"I don't want this…"

"Don't lie," Muraki hissed seductively, using the strength of his thighs to push my own together, trapping his hand firmly between them. The pressure on my groin escalated and a sobbed whimper leaked out through the part of my lips. "Why don't you just admit it? Admit that you want me and be done with it. Cast aside that infernal constraint and let me come into you with all that I have!"

His voice was so passionate, so enticing… I badly desired to surrender to him but there were so many other emotions at play. Feelings that were perhaps more powerful than the temporary intoxicating lust that twisted my senses ruthlessly. I opened my mouth, not knowing what would faint through my lips and all that emerged was the first in a series of rhythmic pants as Muraki's hand slid back underneath my shirt and started to massage my abdominals and chest in patient, alluring succession.

"I… I-I-I-I-I-I c-can't… ngh!" In response to my decline, Muraki had snapped my left nipple between his sharp nails and pinched it not at all gently. I bit my lip, feeling tears of dualistic pain and pleasure seep up from the corners of my eyes as he inflicted the second brand of punishment upon me, piercing the lobe of my ear with his teeth. Warm blood dribbled down from the puncture marks and I felt his tongue slowly lap it up, teeth grinding back into place within my skin. "Please… don't… don't be cruel… ah!"

He released my ear, setting his chin across my shoulder and tightening the muscles in his thighs so that they clenched evocatively against the outsides of my own.

"I want you…" He whispered. My blood pressure skyrocketed. "I need you now, more than ever… the taste of your flesh lingers on my skin. The energy of your soul beckons to me… and I am enticed by it. I wish to partake of you in those acts most sensual." He moved his mouth back to my opposite ear and kissed behind the shell, his voice lowering even further. It was becoming difficult to make out what he was saying. His tone was so soft… and the blood was pounding through my temples. "Would that not puncture the tension… to have my desire pierce you through, having your bud open to me in full bloom…? You can have that, Mr. Tsuzuki. There will be no guilt in taking pleasure from my body… I can make it completely painless… Soft… warm… yet hard and ferocious… I can make you writhe beneath me like a helpless doll, hypnotized by pleasure…" His long white nails trailed across my cheek and then I felt his lips there, pressing against the skin in such chaste enticement. My entire body started to tremble as it only ever would when I had succumbed to a fever. Muraki's words… no words spoken by another had ever made me feel so… divided. "Darling… have me…" And at those words, his hand came down, separated my thighs and then both sets of fingers were squeezing around my clothed penis, lifting it, rubbing through the material, touching, inviting, tempting, sending nearly every spare inch of blood to that very place, which was now becoming painfully hard in his fingers… as hard as my inability to dissuade his touch… I wanted to lie down on the couch, crank my legs apart and get him inside of me as hard and as fast as I'd ever read of it happening in books. I wanted to feel that pounding heat inside… inside, where I hardly felt anything anymore…

"I… I can't!" I all but screamed, disturbed and disgusted by my thoughts. I tried to get up, out of his hold but Muraki grabbed me by the wrist, his fingers cutting into the ridged bone like manacles. I was apparently going nowhere. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

I turned back around to tell him off but was shocked into silence by the ferocious expression on his face, a look that I had not seen at an altogether frequent occurrence. And for the first time that evening, I was in fear for my safety. Muraki looked utterly primal.

"My patience is starting to wear very thin, Mr. Tsuzuki." He said, talking mostly through his tightly bound teeth. "My soul for the most part has not been sated and it is your energy that feeds me at the expense of the souls I would once devour. How dare you rescind on our vow! That is unacceptable! If you do not desire the responsibility of an additional stain upon your hands, then you will admit to it! Submit to me!"

His voice had dropped to the degree that it resembled something of a demonic baritone. I was so frightened of him at that moment, such as I had never been before. Possibly because I had never been closer myself, to doing as he instructed.

"I can't do it!" I sobbed, tears trailing woeful ignominy down my face. "Please… there'll be no turning back. I can't go back! You'll have stained me beyond repair! I'll go with that forever!"

His fingers tightened around my wrist until I thought the bone might shatter like glass. His eyes cut into me, their intensity shining, as would the blades of silver scissors.

"Is that boy stained in your eyes?"

I couldn't believe that he dared believe himself permeable of the audacity to mention Hisoka! My fingers curled upwards into a tight fist that erupted angrily from the claw like vice of his own.

"Stop it!" I warned, voice wavering. "Don't you dare bring Hisoka into this!"

But Muraki did not stop. Like an Exorcist who had observed that the use of a repeated mantra would take effect on the possessed victim, he continued to allude to that horrendous night when he had broken my partner… my innocent partner, who was still nothing but a child.

"Is he stained?" The doctor hissed mercilessly, his tone indifferent. "In the eyes of you, the one who loves him, is that boy stained? Would you be any different?"

"STOP IT!" I screamed, but it was no longer a command. I was begging for mercy. For him to relinquish his punishment upon me.

He continued, having not flayed me effectually. "One whom is stained is beyond my power to bleach! Any stain I could bestow upon you would only blend and never fade. Though you would seek eternal sanctity from the sins of which you are most guilty, Mr. Tsuzuki, there is not enough room in this Universe for you to run, to escape from what you have done. There is no place you can hide, where you will be secreted from their echoing cries for mercy. In this world and the next, you shall forever be haunted. Are you so… purposefully delusional, that you honestly believe my touch would stain you? Don't make me laugh! You are already more stained than I could ever hope to be! Where would my mark be visible on such damned, cursed flesh? You tell me that? If you truly believe in your innocence, if you can honestly say that you are a better person than I, then by all rights, how is it possible that my skin can touch yours? Don't you see?" He smiled evilly and lifted my fist, shaking my fingers out so that they drooped like fruit laden branches. "There's sin on these fingers too."

I couldn't take it any more. The pain of the physical humiliation I would be forced to submit to was inconsequential to the jarring agony of my soul. I squeezed my eyes shut, the sound erupting from the depths of my lungs like a death rattle.

"ENOUGH!" I roared and then, as though spurned into action by the eruption of a bullet from gun, I turned back around to face him, threw myself into his lap, legs around his waist and arms around his neck. His expression was that of bewilderment for barely two seconds and then I could make out nothing further of it, because my eyes were once again shut and I was kissing him with everything I had, sobbing the whole while. I felt his lips bifurcate into a smile beneath mine as he opened up to me and I responded, knowing what he wanted and fed my tongue into him, shivering as he liberally sucked on the hot wet muscle, running the tip of his own beneath mine, across the tiny indent that branched down the middle. He tasted good, of the tea I had served and of something deeper… cigarettes… not so good… but mint as well. Perhaps he had eaten some kind of breath mint recently. Whatever the case, the cool aftertaste still lingered, so strong that I wouldn't have been surprised if it refreshed my own breath. Muraki made a sound like; 'Hrrmmmm,' under our kiss; soft, silky and seductive, his hands running up my back and holding me gently to him. We eventually parted and I rested my head into the crook of his shoulder, drying my eyes on the material of his shirt.

"You're right… I am stained… and… I do want you…" I admitted, hating my stupid weak self even more at this divulgence. "But… I can't do this…"

Muraki stroked fistfuls of my damp hair, his temple pressed up against my own. He could probably feel the blood pounding through me. I wanted to hurt him… tear him apart with my bare hands and soccer punch him around the room until he had some inkling of the pain he had divested upon both Hisoka and I, to name only two of many. But that desire was a dim influence, which barely prodded at the outskirts of my mind from time to time but was unable to leap the dividing line and dominate my conscious physical efforts, currently dominated by brazen, idiotic hormones.

"I think you'll find that you can, Mr. Tsuzuki." Muraki said in response to my earlier words. "You would have done so last week, had I not put an end to the proceedings."

My bare feet were hanging off of the side of the couch, dangling beside the white clothed towers of his long legs. I'd never come this close to him of my own free will before; specifically, I had never instigated the contact. Up until that point, it had been Muraki jumping me wherever and whenever he felt like it. I couldn't help but feel that he had cheated me into my current position, which quite frankly was starting to embarrass me. My body started to tremble and tears quenched the dryness of my eyes once more, spilling out over my lower line of lashes in order to grace my cheeks with an undeserved baptismal. I lifted my face from Muraki's shoulder, resisting the urge to bury it straight back into the alluring white fabric and sob my heart out. I couldn't believe what a traitor I had become. To my friends… to everything that was good and decent… to those victims of Muraki now free from pain but at the cost of their own lives. God I hated him… but I was starting to hate myself more for the sudden realization that my hate was equally measured out by my want for him.

I had missed him that week he was away. When in his presence I was calm and when without him there, my physical, mental, emotional stamina suffered. I experienced painful prolonged withdrawals, almost like I was in mourning. That, I knew then, was the true reason that I had been drinking so much those last couple of days. I was attempting to cope with his absence. Now here, holding him to me, I desired not one drop of alcohol, even though my psyche was submerged in guilt.

From end to end, I was being torn apart. Torn apart as my eternal punishment. Muraki had been sent to me; I don't doubt that anymore. He had been sent to make me suffer for what I inflicted upon those villagers, almost one century ago…

"I'm so pathetic…" I choked; reaching up with one shaking hand to brush away those demonic tears I had no right to shed. "I hate myself… I hate myself so goddamn much!"

Muraki issued a clucking sound from between his teeth.

"Now now, there is no reason to put that on yourself. Here, dry your eyes." Displaying the exemplary knack for being equipped for any situation at hand, Muraki whipped a white handkerchief out of his pocket like a magician showing off a trick and handed it to me. I liked that he didn't try to wipe my tears away for me, thinking that I might have thrown up from the soppy sentimentalism of it all. I accepted it gratefully and set to work cleaning up my face, rounding up my performance with a nose honk that would have rivaled an approaching ship to port. Muraki attempted to remain serious but I saw the corner of his mouth smirk as I went to hand back the now slightly damp handkerchief. He merely plucked it from my fingers as though it contained the potential for bubonic plague and deposited it on my coffee table.

"For having the desire of any normal man…" He said, almost as an afterthought. "You are not deserving of such self-loathing. Don't be so hard on yourself." He lifted his face and ruined the illusion of such unexpected chivalry by leering at me in a most inappropriate way. "Leave that to me…"

I felt my cheeks stain with heat. "You pervert…" My insult branched off into a high pitched (really rather girly) yelp as Muraki sensuously placed his fingers on the inner most curves of my butt, pinching the flesh slightly. This inconsequential touch made my whole body stir with wanton heat and desire. "M-Muraki… ah…"

His breath was hot beside my ear, though his voice was a temperate, exhilarating whisper. "Why don't you just admit that you enjoy it, hmm? What man could deny that he does not take pleasure in being desired sexually?"

He was like a dog at a bone; he just kept wearing away at it, refusing to let it go until there wasn't a scrap of meat left. All Muraki had in mind that night was the possibility of sex. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. It still came to me as a nasty surprise that despite his, really rather nice, advancements on my body, I wasn't thinking about sex at all.

… Okay… perhaps subconsciously… in the back of my mind. But not to the degree that Muraki so clearly entertained it. My thoughts were severed through cleanly by the svelte movements of his fingers against my buttocks, sliding away and then moving back in towards the clavicle. The result was that he was pushing my pajama pants down the crack of my butt, giving me a wedgie. It really wasn't the sexiest moment we'd ever had, despite how good his ministrations felt.

"Uh… oh!" A little high pitched gasp jumped out of me and danced around erratically before I had the chance to promptly grind the little bastard between my teeth. I was losing control very quickly and very, very easily. I was basically handing it over to Muraki tied up in a big fat campy bow. "W-wouldn't that t-t-take some of the… thrill out of it… for you?"

Muraki laughed softly and darted his mouth up to smack against mine, trysting my lips between his own and then coming back for a second taste. Our noses continued to touch, even after our mouths parted. His single eye was clouded with something that looked suspiciously like… success? I couldn't say triumph because such an aspect was too extreme to describe this emotion. It was like a lazy acknowledgement. Casual acceptance. As though he had been expecting me to submit. Oh God how I wanted to prove him so very wrong right then. All I can blame it on is the weakness of the flesh. Stupid, weak flesh. Stupid, weak Tsuzuki!

"You know me better than you think you do," He said, rubbing his thumb in a broad circle over my right ass cheek. I really wished I had worn boxers underneath my pajama pants now, because they weren't doing a very good job on their own of hiding my current… em… approval of Muraki's actions. "However, I believe that the satisfaction of finally sheathing myself within your body, is more than enough to compensate for the bereavement of challenge. Wouldn't you say?"

I was sick of my face turning red. Maybe it should have just stayed that way, if it enjoyed being hot and sweaty and crimson so much. I bared my teeth fiercely, hands running up and down Muraki's upper arms. His biceps were quite firm and prominent, reminding me for some reason of smooth melted treacle, spread over a delicious honeycomb crunch… Oh wonderful, now I wanted to eat his arms.

"You- You…" I tried to think of something insulting to say but nothing came. Nothing, except a loud, aroused moan as Muraki clenched my ass hard, pushing our bodies together. Oh no… Oh no, oh no, oh no, he had an erection… and mine was pressed against his… I slumped against him, fingernails digging into his shirtsleeves as a pure shock of euphoria skewered up through the center of my senses and tore into the fissures of my brain. Muraki made only the smallest sound to vocalize his pleasure, a deep, throaty purr. He ran his hands up my back, onto my neck and then into the depths of my damp hair, bringing our lips together. Our tongues rolled as one, mouths open even as we made contact, licking, tasting and sucking on each and every little sensation that either had to offer. My fingers tightened on his arms and I felt the burgeoning desire to put my own around his neck but I resisted, not wanting to make the moment any more intimate than I could help it. Muraki suddenly released my mouth, causing me to dribble down my chin in a really sexy manner. I mopped it up with the back of my hand as he gazed intently into my eyes, his fingers massaging my scalp like one might lavish attention upon a cat. He smirked at the shine of saliva across my chin but was refined enough to overlook it.

"Oh Mr. Tsuzuki… you haven't the vaguest conception as to what a remarkable creature you are. How fascinating you are to me."

I 'hated' to contradict him here, but I believe I had a fine understanding of how 'fascinated' he was with me.

He continued on, his free hand coming to rest on my upper thigh. "You're the mortal origami; able to fold and change, fold and change, to transition from one stage to another, in order to fit any situation or person. But ultimately… underneath the complexity of the folds and creases, whatever you turn it into origami is fundamentally nothing more than a plain white piece of paper. Dei sum id quod sum."

It was hard to pretend to find what he was saying interesting at the best of times; and this wasn't taking into account the movement of his freewheeling hand, which had now launched itself from my thigh and was having a jolly old time alternating its attentions between my face, back, thighs, waist and in particular, my buttocks. As a result, most of what he said to me went in one ear and out the other. What usually happens when educated people try to smarten me up. When will they ever learn that they are preaching to the converted?

"Hrm?" Was all I could manage. My head was tilted back, eyes closed and body stretched upward tightly like a Jack-in-the-Box that had just erupted and couldn't find any justifiable reason to be forced back down within the confines of its' box.

Muraki fortunately, was always happy enough to explain, even if I was less than happy to listen.

"Dei sum id quod sum. A saying. Latin. It means; 'By the grace of God, I am what I am.'"

How delightfully symbolic. It made me feel bitter if anything.
"God made me this way… only to abandon me." I huffed, trying not to think of the appropriate simile Saagatanusu enforced to confine me within the alternate world prison.

'The Black sheep… the poor Lamb… who was forsaken by God…'

If I was what I was by his hand, then where did he get off throwing me to the wolves? The injustice of it all made me want to scream and wrench my hair out by the roots.

Muraki noticed my turmoil and placed a kiss into the hallow of my neck, so soft it was like butterfly wings fluttering against my skin.

"You are what you are, Mr. Tsuzuki. I am what I am. There's no changing the design of fate, my darling. Granted some designs of origami are more complex than others and it may take longer to fold back the creases, but eventually someone is going to see us revealed for what we truly are. When we haven't folded ourselves to fit someone's interest or amusement, or hence when it is appropriate." He smiled and lowered his lips to touch against the bare hint of my chest that was showing from the collar of my pajama shirt. "Asato Tsuzuki… a demon with mortal empathy, passion to acquaint himself with human beings. And yet, this guise has also the fold of the celestial angel. Beautiful… hauntingly beautiful… complex… and bewitching. You have no idea what a rarity it is for a creature with your tainted blood to sympathize with inner mortal turmoil, without in turn desiring the essence of mortal energy. How your soul must struggle…"

I gasped softly as Muraki started to suck on my neck, his teeth grazing lightly against my pulse and the tiny veins that passed blood back and forth, unaware of the lurking danger just beyond the shield of flesh.

"There's no struggle…" I gasped, knowing as soon as I said it how au contraire the statement sounded. "What I'm doing with you-"

"-is not wrong." Muraki finished for me, though I don't think that was how I had originally intended to close that sentence. "It is instinctive of human, of demonic, of even angelic nature. The half of you that you are starving in your haste to punish yourself. This guilt you have for desiring to submit to me. It feels wrong to the part of you that is mortal, the part of you that values loyalty to your friends. But that monstrous half of you requires human essence, as does mine. It wants blood… energy…" He started to punctuate each word with a kiss, moving up my neck and tilting my body towards a higher level of reprehensible pleasure. "… domination and surrender… sadism… masochism… pleasure, pain… It has taken unbelievable restraint to reign in those desires when you have denied that part of yourself for so long."

"It's not that simple," I insisted, my nails digging so tightly into Muraki's arms that I may very well have pierced the skin beneath the wall of his shirt sleeves. "I'm not like you."

Rather than appear offended by this, Muraki in turn looked positively delighted. He smiled with pure sincerity and leant up to kiss the underside of my chin, eliciting another little cry from me.

"And is that not the most wonderful thing?"

I was panting, barely recognizing the words that spouted from my lips. Wanting to say anything that was conducive to sustaining this physical, never before experienced pleasure. I wonder if Muraki could tell that I didn't know much? Almost a century old and still a virgin… it was kind of sad. I'm not sure why I hadn't yet done it. I'd certainly had enough chances but I'd always refrained, finding pleasure in other facets such as eating or drinking. Little things that were substantial enough.

Sure I could have had sex just to have had it. But that wasn't why I had waited so long. I wanted to have sex that I could really enjoy. It seemed a darn right shame to have blown it after so long on some ineffectual little squirmish, just so I could have experienced physical passion. I never really minded my lack of personal knowledge, until I got to moments like this. Then, my mind was filled with hundreds of concerns. Can he tell I don't know much? Does he like what I'm doing, or is that expression bad? Am I just embarrassing myself? Oh no, he thinks my butt's too big. You know, those sorts of things. I'm sure anyone could understand and sympathize.

"I've… I've wanted you so badly…" I conceded, leaning into the kisses that were being littered across my neck. Oh Muraki was way too good at this… what a fucking showoff. "… but I haven't been able to admit it to myself. Are you saying that I should let you have me!" Tears started to well up in my eyes as I thought of how my virginity would be wasted, letting the man who had raped my partner come into me. The same organ that had torn and broken and bloodied that innocent child, would be used to make me writhe and to give me personal gratification. I was… scum! I was sick if I let something like that happen and I knew deep down in my heart that I was going to! "Should I just accept this… this monstrosity that's inside of me! Just thinking about it… it's so shameful and disgusting I want to cut my wrist down to the bone again. Even then…" My sobs started to break through. "Even then I don't think that would be punishment enough… I should have been in Hell by now, if all I was going to do was go running into your arms! There's no difference between the burning abyss and being bound by you. Either way, I'm in chains. Just like the Devil waiting for Judgment day when God will decide just how he's doing to deal with him… the Evil one… I'm the evil one aren't I? Oh God… I tried… I tried so hard but I'm never going to be able to resist sin…"

"You have the benefit of not needing to hold it together in front of me." Muraki's expression was positively stunned as he touched my cheek gently with the tips of his fingers. "How… beautiful… how truly blessed am I that it is before me that you would chose to divulge such heartbreak, such torment, the very emotions that rend your mind and soul asunder! You are divine, Mr. Tsuzuki… but… when will you understand that the demon's lust is not an evil thing? Hmm? I'm not sure for how long you have been fighting the demonic side of yourself, but you truly need to bring down this barricade you have erected against it. You must accept that that side is a part of you, not a terrible enemy you must affront and restrain with all your will. The sooner you embrace that, the sooner you accept it, you will learn to be at peace with what you are."

"I wish it were that simple." I said quietly, grimly. And for a while, there was blessed, refreshing silence. It washed over me, as soothing as that first drink after a long and humid day. But it was a silence doomed to fracture terminally, as the heat from our bodies would allow us no refuge. Muraki's hands clasped me tightly around the waist, his thumbs pressing down hard against my flagrant hipbones. I heard his lips part wetly beside my ear.

"Now would be a good time."

"For what?" I asked, oblivious as always. My body was doing far too grand a job of distracting me.

His lips quirked upwards, tongue sneaking out to lash across the luscious curves. I found myself succumbing to the temptation to kiss him once again and it was a blue-fire boiling up within me, a cold want, rather than crimson heat.

"Let me feed from you." He whispered, placing his long nails possessively against my chin and tracing a line around the slope. My heart thumped at the impending transfusion.

"Yeah… I guess… guess we should get it over and done with."

Muraki chuckled softly and rose to his feet, supporting me with one arm around my shoulders, the other sanctioned beneath my buttocks, the way that one might hold a child. Trembling, I wrapped my arms securely around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder, consciously tightening my thighs around his waist so that I wouldn't slide free. I needn't have concerned myself so. He supported me as easily as he would an infant.

Or a doll.

"The bedroom… is it that door on the left down the hallway?" Muraki asked, gesturing with his head. I nodded against his shoulder.

"Is there any particular reason why you want to do it in there?" I wondered, even as he began carrying me towards our destination. I bit my lip as he predictably patted me on the butt.

"It is easiest if you were lying on your back on a flat surface. However, the floor might be somewhat uncomfortable, therefore your bed would be the next best option."

I chuckled nervously, thinking of the state that my room was in. There was junk strewn everywhere and my bed was unmade, the sheets twisted around each other in a corkscrew as a result of my haste to extricate myself from them that morning. There were Cinnapon boxes all over the place. Overall, it didn't exactly speak positive volumes about the man who resided within the room.

Muraki balanced me carefully as he freed one hand to swing open the door. He studied the room for at least three seconds and then bravely steeled himself and entered, kicking a pastry box out of the way as he went. Of course he wouldn't spend a great deal of time critiquing my room, considering just what we were there to do.

Not bothering to release me, Muraki grabbed a fistful of the sheets and tugged them harshly off of the bed, tossing them disdainfully onto the floor as though they were nothing more than a dirty handkerchief. After dusting a few crumbs off of the bottom sheet, Muraki gently lay me down upon the mattress, as delicately as he might a baby. It was so dark in the room and the three quarter moon outside didn't throw much light in through the unshaded windows but I could still follow the doctors' sleek, elegant movements around the bed. He made his way to the side closest the window and I watched him anxiously as he removed his tie completely and set it on the bedside table, beside a framed photograph of the Summons Sections employees on our last staff vacation. I personally couldn't make it out in the dark but Muraki seemed to know exactly who was staring out at us from the picture and he tactfully – or vindictively perhaps – placed the photograph face down on the dresser.

"I don't believe we need them watching us." He stated and I could detect the definitive edge in his voice. I felt that I should speak up in defense of his attitude towards those I cared for but found I could articulate nothing the second it came to my attention that Muraki was not stopping with his tie. His shadowed visage outlined by dim moonlight, I watched as his veiled fingers slowly moved down his chest, sliding buttons free from where they were snagged, untucking his shirt from his pants so that the last few could be easily accessed. When they were all released, his cufflinks placed aside, Muraki hooked his fingers around the upper most halves and separated them, drawing the gray material off of his white, ashen shoulders, allowing it to slip down the wide slope of his back and then pulling it free, distributing it amongst the various entanglement of my own clothes that adorned the far corner.

"W-why are you getting undressed?" I wondered, drawing a breath in tightly as Muraki knelt one leg up atop the bed, snapping free the buckle on his belt and then whipping it out of the loops on his pants. I waited for him to throw it aside as he had done with his shirt but he held onto it.

He smiled at me gently; the smallest of smiles intended to lull me into a false sense of security. I couldn't have been any more on edge if I tried.

"I'll be taking your blood," He reminded me, reaching out with the hand that did not hold the belt and wrapping it around one of my wrists. He brought it up to rest on the mattress above my head then released it. I didn't bring it back down, since he was not forcing me to remain in such a position and it was somewhat arousing, to be gazed upon with my body stretched tightly. "Do you think I would risk getting my clothing dirty if I can help it? You may or may not realize this, but bloodstains are quite the hassle to remove from white material. Often I have to completely restock my wardrobe. And this… this will be the first contact I have had with blood in quite some time… I may not be able to refine my appetite, my dear Mr. Tsuzuki."

"Muraki…" I hissed as he brought my other hand up and set it down firmly beside the one already in position. He placed a long finger against my lips, discouraging my fear. I found it hard to keep my eyes away from his chest. For a doctor, he did indeed possess a most becoming body. Muscles sheathed in vanilla skin that shifted languidly with every movement of his arms and shoulders.

"Shhh… just relax…" He urged, taking his glasses off and placing them on the cabinet atop his tie. "Don't worry… the less tense you are, the less painful it will be…"

"Muraki…" I repeated, breath hitching as he set his fingers against the collar of my t-shirt and trailed them down, up over the rise of my chest and then fluidly downward from the slope of my ribcage. I couldn't help but squirm as he reached the lower hem and then started to retrace his steps, only beneath the shirt this time rather than above it. "Muraki… please… take it from my… from my neck. Not my groin… please… I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

Muraki paused and lifted his face. Without his glasses he looked even more striking. I'd never set my eyes on something so contrarily beautiful and frightening in my entire life. Every time our eyes met, it made me want to curl up so that I would not have to decide whether to crawl from or to him.

"If these were ordinary circumstances Mr. Tsuzuki, I would normally do the opposite of what you request, as I do so enjoy watching your erstwhile attempts to circumvent the more sensual elements these bodies have to offer. However…" And he said this with the same expression one might employ whilst considering whether or not a bite of dog crap might be appealing, "… I do believe that if our arrangement is going to work, then I must forego the usual liberties I would otherwise take with you, beloved. As such, I may experience in return some of the same courtesies that I have extended towards you. I will do as you ask, Mr. Tsuzuki. Your neck it shall be."

Relieved that I had managed to negotiate at least some part of our arrangement, I held still and allowed Muraki to bereave me of my shirt without struggle. I whimpered a little as our bare chests met, finding the sensation of skin against skin one of the most exciting and scary experiences of my afterlife. It wrapped my senses up in trembling, apprehensive anticipation. Succumbing to the moment, I spaced my legs apart and bent my knees, allowing Muraki to rest securely between my thighs, which clasped his wide hips stalwartly.

Muraki pressed his lips into the hallow of my neck and kissed the skin confidently, unoccupied hand tracing up and down along my arm, his fingernails tickling my skin erotically. Little snivels and gasps were seeping out from the corners of my lips, egging Muraki on. He stared down at my body as though it were a dusk of Heaven reflected within the Lake of Fire.

"Beautiful…" He said, touching his lips against mine. I held my breath as both his hands, including the one wielding the belt, snaked up and pressed down on my wrists. A smile marked his emotions.

"I see that you are still wearing the watch that I bought for you." He fluted, rubbing his thumb along the thick band, which concealed my terminal scars from the eyes of day. "You make me very happy, Mr. Tsuzuki. To think that you had not cast it aside in my absence. You humble me, my love."

My chest was heaving against his, lifting his body atop mine in a temperate wave of eroticism, boiling saturating heat melting the very roots of my senses. I thought I would go crazy if something didn't happen soon.

"Muraki… let's just get it over with…" I insisted. Muraki grinned at me, his teeth shining even in the darkness. What little light filtered into the room, danced off of the thin film of saliva coating his straight teeth.

"Eager, Mr. Tsuzuki? Well, I suppose we really shouldn't dally further. Now, if you would be so kind as to take your wrist in the grasp of your hand?"

I did as was told, clasping the wrist of my left hand tightly in between the fingers of my right, not sure why exactly this was a requirement of the transfusion. I soon understood however. Once I had done so, Muraki roughly snatched up my arms by the wrist and dragged me up the bed until we had reached the headboard. I had a sudden epiphany about his reason for holding onto the belt and sure enough, he yanked my hands apart, slid them both between the bedposts and then rushed to wrap the strong leather around my wrists, securing me in place. He met with some objections.

"What do you think you're DOING!" I shrieked, trying to sit up but finding that it only struck terrible pain throughout my shoulders. Muraki forced me down easily with one hand and then kept me in place by jamming his knee strictly into the small of my chest. I struggled against this constriction but found it rather futile to say the least. The white doctor completed his work with ease and I found myself bound to the headboard of my own bed.

Oh my God… he was going to rape me!

"Calm down, Mr. Tsuzuki." Said Muraki soothingly as I lashed against the hold like a man on the receiving end of a noose. "This is just my assurance that you will not hinder my work. The less you move, the less danger there is to both you and me. Do you understand?"

"Like… Hell!" I cranked out, arching my body to try and lift some pressure against the leather strap. "You just don't want me to… stop you!"

Muraki simply smiled as he straddled me, preparing to proceed with or without my consent. I groaned as I felt his teeth touch my neck and I brought my chin down to cover my jugular. He distributed a little puff of air against my skin and then placed his lips against the side of my neck instead, darting his tongue out to capture a small preliminary taste of me.

"Mr. Tsuzuki…" He breathed, sounding thoroughly aroused. My whole body shook. I felt kind of sick to my stomach, the same sort of morbid sensations that might race through a person before receiving an injection. It was a similar ineffectual fear. The knowledge that the sting was coming and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. "Mr. Tsuzuki… steel yourself to receive me. Through me, inject your harmonic energy, that I might overflow with the satiation of your wanton desires …"

"Just… do it…" I panted impatiently, wrapping one leg around his waist and pushing our similarly aroused groins forward in an impetuous kiss.

He bit me.

A Vampire couldn't have done a better job. His teeth pierced my skin more effectively than I would have thought possible. I gasped and hissed, clenching my teeth as I felt blood well out from the incisions and flow over Muraki's lips. There should have been pain; an overwhelming agony that pitched into the very depths of my being. However, the body experienced only the slightest fraction of what I had expected, the initial sting drowned beneath a surprising jet of euphoria lifting its head and sniffing the air. I felt it swell through my body in place of the blood that seeped from the puncture holes in my neck, a sweet, irresistible pleasure that cascaded from the touch of Muraki's mouth, directly down into my groin, stirring the expectant organ painfully. I gasped loudly, heightening the strength of my voice as an arch rippled through my torso unconsciously and I strained against the belt that held my hands as Muraki languidly rolled his hips against mine, caressing my clothed stem of desire.

Muraki laced one hand beneath my body, cradling the arch of my buttocks in the cup formed by his fingers, whilst the other massaged the marks on my neck gently, accelerating the blood flow. He reapplied his mouth tentatively; forming the slightest pressure around the gash he had made and sucking the blood back across his tongue and into the depths of his throat. We were rolling together, our bodies rising up and down on arrows of dark passion, spearing through the connection of lips and flesh. I shut my eyes, whispers of pained ardor seeking freedom from my body.

"Muraki…" I murmured, curling both legs up tightly towards my chest, ensnaring the white doctors hips between my clenched thighs. "Ah… … oh God… M-Muraki!"

I began to see things, things I never thought imaginable. I saw a world with no shade of darkness, in which shadows moved freely with the living and all manner of wickedness brought no foul. A world in which anyone could be forgiven. There were figures of light standing silent and unmoving, a sky alight with the beautiful quills of angels and the earth alive with the eyes of demons, all observing the natural pace of the people of which God fashioned in his own image. Muraki drank and I saw. I saw a world that could not possibly be.

Deeper still, as my energy fluttered within the confines of the doctors lips, I saw four sets of wings, feathers and leather come together and fold inward, as though to protect the creatures within. A figure of light, shining brightest with hair of earth braided in a long trail that lashed behind it like the serpent of sin, raced forward and fire erupted from its' arm. A great hole was cast through two of the wings; one of light and one of darkness, one mark to create two; in the overlap of love.

He drank and I saw a great pool of blood and then I was rising upward on a tidal wave of red and the scars on my wrists twinged and then burst alight with fire and acid, searing into my very core. My senses though unfocused, I knew that the blood was dribbling down my right arm and Muraki's mouth was there, lapping the trails away, long fingers effectively tugging free the watch and placing it aside, so that his lips could kiss and caress my burst iris's of punishment. A sudden hitch of insanity struck me through and I found myself bucking my hips upward against his, tugging at the belt with all my strength. To my great surprise, I found I could not snap it as easily as I thought. As a Guardian, it should have been no great task at all.

Muraki chuckled darkly and distributed one last lick to my scars before dipping his mouth down towards my own. It was too dark to tell but as he kissed me, I realized that my own blood stained his lips. He fed me to myself and I lapped the curves of his mouth savagely, finding the metallic taste to be rather to my liking.

"Struggle all you wish, Mr. Tsuzuki. I daresay you'll find your attempts to be quite futile." His smile only increased at the line that appeared between my brows and he started to stroke my buttocks as though this would make up for the fact that my arms were currently being yanked out of joint. "I expended quite a considerable amount of mana enchanting that belt with a Binding Intensification Blight but… I think it was certainly worth the forfeiture, to see you so beautifully vulnerable beneath me. As for so long I had dreamed you would be…"

"A-Are you d-do-done yet?" I asked, trying not to think too deeply about his words. From the glint in his eye, I understood very quickly that this hiatus did not mean that Muraki intended to end it.

"Oh no, my darling." He whispered, fingers brushing along my back and into the small of my waist before traversing further. They were underneath the waistband now and I all but shrieked at his boldness, lifting my pelvis in an attempt to draw my bottom away from his touch. He allowed me this much, concentration directed towards my neck. He nuzzled in close, tasting the remains of blood, nipping at the skin that had now healed over, leaving nothing but slightly pinkish flesh that soon too would return to its' normal shade. "Mr. Tsuzuki… my love… you heal far too quickly. How will I ever achieve a substantial meal at this rate?"

"Make that your problem… not mine…" There was no more elegant a response to arise from this broken monster, lying half naked and bloodied against the sheets, body on offer to sin personified.

Muraki nuzzled my cheek with his own, eyes shut and expression as lazy as that of a cat basking in a strong ray of sunlight. I relinquished self-control for a moment, to allow myself one tiny kiss of his mouth. His delight was palpable.

"Oh Mr. Tsuzuki… I shall rectify this problem… we must swim within that sea of darkness again. To see what the other saw… darkness and light…"

"You saw it too?" My voice emerged so softly from the depths of my chest that it didn't surprise me when Muraki failed to answer. His weight shifted and from the angle of his shadowed body I assumed that he was removing something from his pants pocket. I heard a click as a component snapped into place with a very disturbing rush, as though a thin, long object had just been released to great air friction.

"Muraki?" I squeaked. His hand now set itself between my ass cheeks, his fingernail lightly brushing upward toward where my entrance lay. My entire body shifted and I pressed my lips together tightly, wanting to close my eyes but afraid that it would afford Muraki too much leniency. Cold chills snapped through me like the thin edge of a whip.

"Relax, Mr. Tsuzuki."

"Muraki…"

"You have to be strong… you must endure it, as you do the pain of your emotions, the pain of your mind. Rise above it, though it may seek to encompass you."

Perhaps a cloud had veiled the moon up until that point, because a thread of light knifed through the windows and struck the object in Muraki's hand. Lift flickered, leapt and divided along a thin, narrow shaft, barely two inches long. My eyelids jumped apart regardless.

"Muraki… MURAKI DON'T!"

"Don't succumb to pain, Mr. Tsuzuki! Embrace it! Embrace it with ecstasy, as have I!" Muraki yelled, reeling his arm back so that it entered the dim stream of light. It was just as I feared; he had a knife in his hand. A small knife admittedly, like a pocketknife but unpleasant looking regardless.

"NO!" I begged, tugging at the bewitched belt to no avail. It really was as strong as he had said. Tears of fear and frustration welled up in my eyes, when I understood all too well that I was once more a prisoner to suffering. It would be delivered unto me, no matter how I begged. If only I could touch him… If only I could have nursed his face, his cheeks, his lips… Could I have stolen the aggression away? "Goddamn you! Damn you to Hell if you stick that knife into me! Oh Muraki, no… please don't… don't make me suffer again!"

This was not to be the lovely moment I would have preferred however. In the weak light, I could see how indeed he had suffered betwixt of the curse; the lines I had seen the night of his return to me. They were back again, stretching across his skin jaggedly in all directions, even more brutal than Hisoka's and somehow, less artistic. The lines were closer together, awakened by his bloodlust. They were…

"Succumb!" Muraki hissed and I steeled myself as the blade carved down, slicing through air so cleanly I would not have been surprised had he split the dynamics of physical reality apart. His smile was manic and I wanted to scream to the hilt of my capabilities as the blade sank deep into my neck, punching through my throat and hitting the mattress upon which I lay, tearing a hole in the material. Blood splattered outward from the wound and spread across the white sheet, like a red flower.

A rose… blooming…

This was ecstasy.

I couldn't make a noise and the pain was absolute. I was dead; I couldn't survive this any more than the average mortal. Blood gurgled down through my throat and I thought I would choke upon the thick vitae. Then Muraki finally released me. He tugged the knife free and brought it to his lips, running the immaculately sharp blade along his tongue, cutting himself as he simultaneously lapped free my blood. When he had thoroughly cleaned the metallic edge, he dropped it loudly on the floor and sank his teeth viciously around the hole he had made, sucking in as hard as he could. Blood jetted upward from the gash in my throat like an eager fountain, my only vocalization a strained gurgle as my vocal cords started to heal. I wanted to hate him for doing this to me… I had every right and I know that.

But I knew the blame was not entirely his. This cryptic scripture branded into his body had been the fault for his violent assault, his lack of mana entailing such difficulties in controlling the aggressive outbursts. If we were to do this consistently then there would perhaps be less anger in his acquisition methods, since he would be readily supplied with an energy source and in greater control.

And it was sick, it was wrong on so many levels, but that agonizing infliction somehow became pleasurable. The hole through the back of my neck healed and my vocal cords knitted together perfectly and the first sound that emitted from them was not a groan of pain but of pleasure.

Muraki's tongue was deep inside of me; I could feel his tongue in my throat, slipping around my torn veins. Hmmm… a violent spasm shot through me and I was rising up on that dark wave of shadows again, wrists burning from the constriction of the belt and groin pounding as his own rubbed against mine with carnal assertion. He placed his hand on the blank side of my neck, massaging me gently as he drank from me and I was weak with pain and blood loss but powerfully high on erotic, irregular pleasure. The primal depths of my instincts were persuading me to return his attack, to make him bleed in return for his gift but my position on the bed was not exactly conducive to that sentiment. No longer was I merely tolerating my part in this act, I was a fully-fledged participant. I was panting rhythmically, body rising forward and backward as though it were my penis in his mouth, rather than my neck. I cannot say for sure that I would have found oral sex more enjoyable. Sincerely, in that moment, I was unable to envision a greater pleasure.

Muraki's angry fire seemed to be ebbing and I think he realized the hurtful thing that he had done. More so, I understood as much that he had come to regret it, now that he was more in control of himself. To demonstrate this, he slipped his tongue back; allowing the hole over my throat to heal and tearing the skin gently, in order to instigate a light flow of blood. A little cry escaped me as he softly kissed the slight gashes, sucking at them with his perfect full lips and running his tongue against them. I shifted the angle of my spine and then consciously forced myself to relax as Muraki's fingers brushed against my ridged point of entry once more, stabbing heat through me and causing a pain to flutter in my chest and the very pit of my stomach.

No one… ever… that place was untouched. That place his long, perfectly sculptured nail now circled, sending my cock into feverish twitches within the confines of my pants.

"Exquisite!" Muraki gasped, casting his head back so that his irregular right eye was exposed. His silver hair slashed through the dim moonlight like wayward rain. "Your spiritual energy is a pure undiluted delicacy. So sweet… it nourishes me thoroughly to my very roots, so that I feel replenished in all aspects of my psyche. Your essence… it sends my body raging! How beautiful you are, Mr. Tsuzuki… you are truly worthy of my love…" And then his teeth were inside of me again and my body was growing number by the second. I couldn't care less. I had never come so close to overflowing with pleasure. I groaned, loud and deep as he found me, his finger sinking in before I could register the utmost importance of this event. The first time another had penetrated me. I gasped in shock as he worked the digit down into the rigid walls, until he was submerged to the second knuckle. It stung like hell, possibly because there was no lubrication and I had no prior sexual experience but when he started to make motions inside of me, I saw things that I had never seen before and I understand then truly, how one came to encompass pain.

His tongue grazed my healing wounds, our hard penises scraping together through the material of our pants and just when the figures of light and darkness started to dance before my eyes again, Muraki struck something inside of me that obliterated every definition that separated one from the next into blinding hot stars, ripping apart reality at the seams. I struck my head back against the bloodstained sheet as my pelvis convulsed, gray shades of either and nothing enrapturing every component of my entire being and accelerating the sparks of pleasure to the point that I wondered would I ever come down from it.

It was a slow descent but it was with gradual reluctance that I returned, becoming aware once my senses were slightly less scrambled, of two imperative things.

Number one: After ninety years, I had at long last come at someone's hand other than my own.

Number two: My pants were a mess.

Muraki kept his teeth pinched tightly into my flesh as I rode out the final wave of my orgasm, groaning as I felt his finger slide out of me. Every time I shifted, the warm, velvety mess in my pants started to run down my thighs, seeping into the lowest valley and sinking through the fabric. It occurred to me then that Muraki would not only be aware of my climax but that he very possibly felt it. His groin was pressed to mine after all. He was still as hard as a rock, whilst my own cock had slumped down limply between my thighs, dripping the substantiation of my disgraced passion.

"Are you… done?" I hissed through clenched teeth. I was surprised that I was able to produce anything comprehensible at all.

For a moment I thought that Muraki hadn't heard, for he remained sanctioned in place against my neck, like a leech that had not taken its' fill. On the verge of repeating my question, he drew back, blood dripping from the lowermost curve of his lips and trailing spatters across my chest. I watched in morbid fascination as he rested back on his knees, forming an arrow between my thighs and produced a second handkerchief from his pocket, which he used to salve the remnants leaking stray from his mouth. My eyes trailed down to the overt bulge beneath the zipper of his pants and my sweat stained features flushed a darker crimson than the sting of orgasm had already reduced them to.

"Indeed, I believe I am." The cold doctor concluded, lowering the handkerchief and using it to mop up the blood lingering about the now departed wound upon my neck and then across my soaked features. My pants were still uncomfortably sticky. "And you, Mr. Tsuzuki? He who was not in the mood for 'love.' Are you quite, as you say… done?"

I knew that he was referring to my impromptu orgasm and my residual euphoria was quickly replaced by anger. I tugged tightly at the bewitched belt, twisting my wrists beneath the leather until they chaffed.

"Listen you asshole… I just wanna make this clear that just because you can… make… this sort of thing happen, it doesn't mean that I like you!" I snapped, wanting to kick him in his vulnerable area but found that the slight alteration of my leg position sent trails streaming further and I was forced to rescind upon my course of action. Albeit very reluctantly. "In fact, I would go so far as to say that it makes me despise you even further! Now, let me up so I- "

The continuation of my sentence was evaporated by a steamy kiss that left my toes curling, my passion serrated body aching for more even following a rather satisfying climax. Muraki traced my lower lip with his tongue; giving me a taste of the copper fuel he had drawn from my veins and then threaded himself into the familial space behind my teeth, our act of intimacy condemning my spoken word. A shudder raced through his body, I sensed it traveling up his neck. I didn't understand it, until I tasted blood in my mouth and understood that he was feeding some of himself back to me, an act of appreciation. I set my teeth around his tongue and tugged downward until I found the gash, where I set to work squeezing the blood from it, until the copper tang swiveled down my throat, as intoxicating as the most lethal of wines I had ever succumb to. My eyelashes fluttered against my cheeks, my entire being humming beneath the flicker of his touch upon me. To Muraki, I was eternally chained, to be played as his instrument. His doll. The slave of its' own defunct emotions. A tear rolled across my cheek and it burnt like blood acid.

Muraki groaned as he snapped his mouth free and he smiled dangerously as I reached up for him, seeking out the source of food, as might a baby chick. He rested the pad of his thumb against my lips and wiped them clean of the trace of his own blood. I bit his thumb as he tried to return it to the sanctity of his body. It was only then that he allowed me to take back that stain he had thought to remove.

"I see… when the rose is released from tension, it reveals the core of its primal being…" Muraki mused, nursing his welling thumb. I stifled a whimper as he ran the uninjured hand down along my damp torso and then, without warning, gently took his fingers into the recess of my loins, submerging his touch within the shameful river I had created. The direct contact made me want to howl like a beast. It made me want to dash him into bloody pieces upon the ground. Only one other man had ever put his bare hand on my naked penis and even then, he had never made me come as a result of it.

My forbidden love.

"I love you." Muraki said, his entire dark splendor crushing me with the weight of those dangerous words.

I groaned and tried to alter my body angle to rid myself of his touch but he held me soft and soundly, secure yet brittle as though his fingers could shatter at any one moment. I was starting to pant again, willing myself in a hundred different ways, not to become aroused a second time over. I didn't know if I could survive a twofold humiliation.

"Why… why is it…?" I panted to no one in particular, as Muraki knelt forward to kiss the clavicle of my neck. The skin prickled from his contact and my heart shook its fist. From either fury or ecstasy, or even a little of both. Either and nothing. "Why … can't I … hate you…? After everything you've done…?"

"Forgive me my darling, but I cannot give you that answer." Muraki said, nestling his chin against the side of my face. "That is the question which you must resolve yourself. Though… I am honored to learn that you do not in fact dislike me after all. I was beginning to worry…"

I snorted in a rather ungentlemanly manner. "Yeah right… cut the crap and untie this damn belt so that I can take a shower and get… cleaned up…" Of course I concluded this seemingly straightforward request with a blush. "I'm starting to think that it's a good thing I used up all the hot water… cold shower is just what I need…"

Muraki smiled predatorily as he held aloft his blood stained handkerchief. "I could spare you the discomfort Mr. Tsuzuki, if you would allow me to remove your pants for you…?"

"No, thankyou." I said quickly, wishing that I were in a more authoritarian position to object. "I've done a lot worse in my time than take a cold shower. And I told you; it's what I need. Now… please… untie me?"

He untied me. He didn't need to be told three times and he didn't go ahead and give me a sponge bath anyway, even after I said no. I think the surprise registered on my face, because Muraki questioned me as I sat up and pulled my kimono off of the floor, quickly sanctioning it around my body so that the semen stains weren't on show as I made my way to the bathroom.

"You've changed…" I said, in response to his question.

Muraki twisted his lip roughly to the side, in what I suppose passed as a smile in bitter hue of his circumstances.

"I have been trying." He stated and then, in an even more surprising move, placed his hand around to rest upon the nape of my neck and brought me close, so that my face resided in the cradle of his collarbone. "I apologize for… injuring you. After so long it was… is difficult to… well, I'm sure you understand, am I right?"

I took a deep sigh, noting that the marks of the curse upon his body were gone. The attack he instigated upon me must have been violence enough to sate him for the time being. I didn't mean for my next words to arise as bitterly as they were expelled but indeed they took little heed of my internalizations.

"As long as you leave other people out of it, I don't care what happens to me," I said, pressing my fingernails into his bare bicep and digging them in slightly. His expression didn't change in acknowledgement to any pain I might have inflicted upon him. "But… the more we do this… the easier it becomes for you to control this… curse on your body, right?"

He nodded, soothing his hand through the sodden lap of my hair. So much for the leave-in conditioner.

"That is correct, yes."

"Then the more the better. Perhaps every three days… will that suffice?"

"Certainly."

"Then three days it is. Now, could you do me a favor?"

Muraki altered his position so that he could meet my eyes. I could see him smirking beneath the sheathe of darkness.

"That of course depends on the nature of the favor."

I couldn't help but smile back, a little guiltily at that. At times it was almost like he could read my thoughts.

"While I'm in the shower… would you mind… you know, since you made the mess…. just… changing the sheets for me? I'll probably need to throw this out 'cause I don't think I'm likely to get those blood stains out, if I'm to go by what you told me."

Muraki chuckled softly and patted my thigh.

"Consider it done. Though I usually delegate less favorable tasks to my working staff, I believe I remember how to make a bed, if my days at University taught me anything."

"Thanks," I said, climbing to my feet. "You'll find spare sheets and all the rest in the storage room. It's that door opposite the kitchen. On the right hand side when you come in." Something else came to mind and I turned to face him, even as he started to evict the dirtied sheets from the bed. I struggled to say something constructive of my pre-readied thoughts but found my attention distracted by the doctors' rather well defined backside, outlined nicely beneath the walls of his white pants as he bent over to reach the bed. "Um… I'll try to be as quick ass- I mean, as possible butt… but-but-but you don't have to wait around for me. Doctors have better things to do with their hind- TIME… I meant time… I meant… I'm… gonna go have that shower now…" Which was my cue to stumble higgledy-piggledy from the room, turning the brightest shade of red imaginable and stubbing my toe on the doorframe on the way out. The mess in my pants had now decided to migrate south for the winter and it was with some degree of knee's-pinched-together difficulty that I was forced to hop across the hallway into the bathroom and slam the door shut behind me. If there was any ass in question at that point in time, it was the one who made thoroughly sure to bang his dumbass head against the wall a few times before quickly stripping down and diving beneath the icy cold water, emitting off a rather dubious cloud of steam as soon as his skin made contact.

I had been submerged for maybe ten seconds when I heard the muffled trilling of a ring tone I didn't recognize. Muraki's footsteps thundered out of the bedroom a moment later, his deep voice assuring that 'It was his cellular and that I shouldn't worry.'

Finding it deeply ironic that a serial killer was telling me 'not to worry' within the confines of my apartment, I returned to my frosty shower, contemplating the various twists and turns this extraordinary world upends in our laps. My legs were still a little shaky from the aftershock of my orgasm and I leant against the side of the shower, one arm wrapped around my upper body to keep my balance. Without really thinking about it, I started to softly sing to myself as I lathered up a bar of soap and proceeded to clean my chest and neck. Dried blood soon turned the faded trails of water along my body red, as from memory I recited the song my sister had written; that she would trot out when performing mandatory housework, or teaching me to dance in the sitting area after dinner. She would use it to calm me, after I had been spurned by the fellow villagers, the children who would have otherwise been my playmates.

"When you feel the urge to cry and you can't hold back your tears,

Don't be ashamed to let me see, don't hide your eyes from me.

Let's walk across the bridges railing, hand in hand in case we slip,

I'll hold you steady as the wind sweeps through our hair.

Those tears will fade away and I'll pick you up in my arms,

I'll carry you over the distant mountains and to the far off sea.

Shrug off your shoes and we'll dance across the ocean, kiss the damp sand beneath our feet,

Soon I know you'll bear that smile, I'll hear you laughing carelessly.

Then I'll kiss your fingers one by one

And ask you to close your eyes

Tell me how it feels, to be in love the very first time

Don't be a stranger to new love

Don't run back and slip your feet into your shoes

Before you run, let's plunge into the ocean

I'll give you the answer, as we dance hand in hand beneath the waves;

"Here you are so I can make you smile! Isn't that enough for now?"

I want to know you're reassured, that you know I won't lie to you

Someday you won't have to be afraid of what anyone expects of you

You'll shrug off their words like your old shoes and we'll go dancing across the sand

Anywhere will be fine, just as long as you're there with me

Give me a smile, slip your fingers into my hand

Propel yourself through that window and open your arms

Your wings will catch the wind

The day will come when you can wake up and smile

With one by your side, their arms around you

You and I will meet again, when you find that distant ocean and dance across the sand

The bar of soap fell from my hand and landed in a splash on the shower floor. I felt my body growing even weaker than the blood loss could compensate for.

It hit me in one of those magical revelations you could swear only ever happened in movies.

One week ago, the night that Pandora had lost his life to the demon Balban, he had bestowed upon me the gift that had belonged to my sister. That I had placed in her coffin, before handing over her body to the grave.

The handkerchief bearing the imprint of the tulip.

Then he had followed Muraki and I to the door. I strained my memory, praying that it did not serve me false.

Muraki led me toward the main exit out of the cinema, the one where most of the other patrons had fled earlier. Pandora flounced along behind us, humming a tune I thought was ringing a few bells.

I hadn't been able to place it then, because of the injuries to my head, denying access to my memories of the past. But it was no mere coincidence. I knew now without a doubt the song that he had been humming.

The song that my sister wrote. Nearly one whole century ago.

I fell to my knees in the shower, the last of my strength leaving me completely. It couldn't be a coincidence. Even the way in which the kid had addressed me had sparked recognition. The cutsey manner of spelling out the name; it was both nurturing and childlike, the exact same manner in which Ruka had spoken to me, especially when I was emotionally tender.

He was spinning on his toes in the movie cinema. Dancing. He spoke so sweetly and gave me gifts because he couldn't bear to see me cry.

Just like her.

"Oh my God…" I murmured, my body shaking from more than just the cold water. "She gave me back the gift that I returned to her. Could it be…? Could… Pandora be Ruka?"

-Part 2 complete: -