Chapter 2: Malicious Rise
Bankotsu flung his school bag and jacket on the couch with a small sigh, the loosened red tie and white shirt, crinkled from a day of school. As the youngest of their makeshift family, he still had attended school, even though he was the head of the family. Glancing at the glaring ruby numbers of the microwave, the time signified that he was the only one home, other than the servants.
Removing his report card, the leader stood, placing on Renkotsu's desk before making his way to his own quarters, quickly changing out of his uniform. Replacing the white shirt for a white and dark blue hakama with an ebony stripe down it, the leader attached his blue fern-like armor loosely forgoing the one on his right shoulder as usual, all held in place with a red obi. Throwing the dress shoes and socks aside for the servants to clean up, the boy clipped arm guards and leg guards that met at his middle fingers and toes, resembling ninja footwear.
Glancing at the mirror, the boy smirked, pleased with his appearance despite his tattoo not in view. Removing the skin patch created by Mukotsu, the smirk grew in full as a deep purple star-shaped mark gleamed on his forehead.
Moments later, deep into the caverns of their home, the leader tore through his simulation of swordsmen, snipers, and armed men alike with ease, twirling his beloved aibou with expert precision, a dark smirk over his lips as he could almost imagine the blood pooling over if it was real. Bodies thuds, the groans of death, the moans of regret, the wisps of souls dissipating into the ground at his feet, the shiver that crawled up his spine as sounds of gunfire and the cracking of bones, nothing was quite like a bloody massacre of just him and his brothers. Blood, bone, and the dank earth in which it seeped into; how beautiful it was. The crimson dancing in the midst of the pale pallor of pure blanche, as it swirled in the unforgiving earth. Who could deny such beauty before their eyes?
Not Bankotsu. And neither could his brothers.
It was a particular tale, really; considering the century and time, but nonetheless, it was their's and here it was:
Bankotsu was, by no means, born into a poor or wealthy family; they had enough to get by and enough to save up for presents for special occasions. They were happy and well in despite of their limbic class over being neither above or below. From his little memory, he recalled a kind face that belonged to his father, a soothing one of his mother, and lastly, a slobbering but dimpled smile of his younger sister, barely a year old.
And that they lived in a rundown house, but was nonetheless home.
When one day, when he came home from school with handmade gifts for his younger sister in hand, everything was destroyed. Killed in an undetected gas leak, they said. Destroying all that the boy had.
As all newly formed children who became orphans were taken, it was then that the boy had stopped cutting his hair. His mother had always noted at what a shame it was for her to cut it, but he had always insisted, to look manly and powerful like his father. But now he refused — no, he could no longer — allow himself such a luxury as that.
His caretaker was cruel, as was his new 'siblings'. But he never lost.
He refused to allow himself to taste the bitter and frothing tears of defeat, that fate or whatever the fuck it was that, made him bow before. He was never going to bow before it. His pride, his past, his future, his heart, and his body refused with every cell in his body. Never would he bow down and his brothers understood that just as he did.
Jakotsu had arrived a year after he had, a pretty-like boy who refused to unclip a butterfly pin in his hair, despite of the name calling of words that the younger boy had a small to little understanding of at the time. But they made the older cry. And that was when he had found him.
Behind the orphanage, where no one was due to the rumors of monsters and demons that lurked there, Bankotsu was taken from his lull, ignorant of the soft rain that pelted his form. Throughly soaked, the boy was taken from his thoughts with a sniffle. Turning to find the source, the child found another, several years old than him but, a child all the same. Ebony hair wet in tangles with his hair pin gripped in bloody knuckles, his mismatched clothing in tatters; the older boy was obviously tormented, from the way he huddled himself and looked no higher than several inches from the ground. Bankotsu looked away with sympathy, he knew just how it felt. The feeling of uselessness and being weak, who were they to say such things to him? What had he done wrong for them to say such things?
Instead of running off, the younger boy found himself nearing the older one, who looked at the former with surprise. Whether it was due to the fact he had yet to hurt the older, or that he was here, Bankotsu found it to be both.
"Did you hurt them back?" The younger boy asked, immediately throwing the older boy off.
"W-What?" The older boy squeaked, confused.
The younger boy shifted uncomfortably in the rain, but elaborated as he shot the older one a small smirk. "Did you hurt them back for hurting you? Did you give them more than they gave you?"
Catching on, the older boy recalled the blows that he sent to his tormentors, wincing in slight sympathy as he smiled flirtatiously to the younger one, nodding. "You bet, I did."
"Then you didn't lose." The younger boy smiled back as he offered a hand to the older one, who took it, both standing in the rain.
"What's your name?" The older one asked softly as they stood in the rain.
"I'm Bankotsu. And yours?" The younger boy nodded as the older one turned away, saddened. "What's wrong?"
"I-I don't have one." The boy replied, as tears threatened to spill down his brown eyes. "M-My parents said that I didn't d-deserve one s-so…"
"Then you don't have to have one from them." Bankotsu cut in as he turned the older to him, who looked at him with shocked eyes, taking in the smiling boy who held him with warmth at the shoulders. "You can have a new one."
"I-I can?"
Nodding, the younger boy smiled. Taking the butterfly pin with soft fingers, the younger boy pinned the ebony tangles a way his mother had once shown him, intricate but simple as you only needed a single pin. "You can."
Continuing, the younger boy gestured to the pin. "How about Jakotsu?"
"J-Jakotsu?" The older boy questioned as he fingered the pin in his dirtied hair. "Why that name?"
"Because you're like a snake. Even though you're beautiful and appear to be harmless, a toxin resides in you that only you know how to bend and control. And once your enemies realize that, you already got them where you want them." Bankotsu smiled as he pointed to the older boy's blood-covered knuckles, before ending his words with a goofy grin. "And it ends like mine does."
The older boy was silent before he smiled, grabbing the younger in his arms.
"I like it." The newly named Jakotsu hugged the younger who smirked back, before raising his eyebrows in surprise. "A-And thank you, Bankotsu."
"…Your welcome, Jakotsu."
It was some time before the twosome had found the rest of their brothers. But it was because of Bankotsu that they had found the rest.
One night, it was in the ungodly hours of the midnight that Bankotsu had awoken from his slumber, a four years older than him, Jakotsu, by his side, curled up in a ball, muttering in his sleep. "Oo-aniki…"
Smirking at the nickname, Bankotsu recalled the first time Jakotsu had called him that. It was a slip of the tongue and had stuck as Jakotsu would call him that nearly every chance he got. Getting up quietly to not awaken the older, Bankotsu made his way to the toilet, not noticing the breaths of the other children, too quick to be considered asleep.
Several moments later, Bankotsu returned to the overcrowded room where the children slept, only to find it completely empty of the inhabitants other than crinkled sheets and semi-warm blankets that were so tattered that they were barely considered so. Glancing around and narrowing his cobalt orbs, the boy knew something was off, and now, Jakotsu was gone.
Dashing out the room, the boy tore open every door, searching for Jakotsu.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing but what he found earlier.
A grunt took the boy from his search, immediately bursting the backdoor to find a scene that would give him nightmares throughout his life. Huddled in a circle, all the other orphans were beating something. His ears numbed to the words, a cry cut right through so soft that the other children couldn't have heard it in the uproar of their laughter. "O-Oo-aniki…"
Crescent half-moon moons cut in his fists, Bankotsu only saw red as he lunged with dark cry. His fist met flesh, the hard bone underneath cracking, as the boy barely registered the pain in his hands before a sickening pleasure coursed over his person. How dare they. How dare they touch his brother. How dare they hurt Jakotsu. The closest thing he had left to what he could call as his family. How fucking dare they.
Arms grabbed his waist, to which the bloodied boy spun and sent a swift round-house kick, making no indication that he heard the crunch other than a tingle that ran down his skin. A back met his own before Bankotsu saw things clearly once more, pausing in his raised fist caught by a bloody hand, only to meet with Jakotsu's bloodied form, appearing worse than it actually was.
"Jakotsu…" The younger boy whispered, as the older boy smiled, scabs at his knuckles reopened as the boys lowered their hands. "…Are you alright?"
"Yeah." The older boy nodded, wiping the ricocheted blood off the younger boy's cheek with a bloody grin.
"Y-You…" A weak voice spoke, taking the boys from their moment, to turn to the ringleader of the children. "Y-You two are c-crazy…I knew you were weird…you stupid brat and you homo freak…"
Glancing at his bloody knuckles before turning to the older boy, a bloodthirsty grin grew at Bankotsu's lips as Jakotsu seemed to mirror it, grins that the boys would wear often into their lives as the younger boy pulled back an arm, gripped into a blood-covered fist. "Glad to be of service, but I think we're tired of your disgusting existence. Die, scum."
And with a swift punch, the fat child was dead, blood spurting from his lips.
Red. Bankotsu looked at the crimson with a new fascination. Why did they teach him to shun it? It was what ran in their body, and when it made itself evident, it was a sight to behold.
Beside him, the younger turned to the older boy, finding the same fascination reflected back at him. Jakotsu understood. Smirking, the two boys moved almost automatically. With some miracle, their caretaker had not awaken in the midst of the evening action, probably too drunk on her ass from what Bankotsu concluded in hindsight.
And it was the next week that the two brothers met their next addition.
"Oo-aniki?"
Bankotsu looked up from thoughts, Banryuu slung over his unarmored shoulder loosely. The youngest's weapon of choice was one of alarming size, often mistaken for a halberd, but in the youngest's defense, the only thing that his aibou had in common with a halberd was that they were pole-wielding weaponry. Instead of a battle axe, Banryuu resembled a large double edged sword, the pommel a large, crescent moon. But unlike his brothers' favored weapons of choice, his was a demonic blade, many warning him to forgo his companion blade but they did not understand.
It was with this blade that he had slewed those that were in his way. And it was with this blade that he would continue to do so.
"Hmm?" The leader hummed distractedly, turning to find his second-in-command, or otherwise known as his third-eldest brother; Renkotsu. Clearly having just came home from work, the bald twenty-four-year-old regarded with his youngest brother with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you alright, oo-aniki? You seem a bit distracted." Renkotsu noted, as he made a mental note to improve the level for the youngest, glancing at the ease the boy tore through one of harder levels of the simulation.
"It's nothing." Bankotsu shrugged, before smirking. "What's wrong, Renkotsu?"
"The new requests have come, oo-aniki."
"Oh, I see." Bankotsu nodded, in his commanding voice before smirking with a good-natured smirk. "Are the others home yet? I was thinking in putting in some training in. My math teacher wasn't being a bitch today, for once. No homework."
Renkotsu rose an eyebrow at that. "Why? I thought you said that she was out to get you, oo-aniki?"
"Beats me." Bankotsu shrugged. "Maybe she got laid."
"I wouldn't know, oo-aniki." Dropping the topic before it got anymore odder, Renkotsu sent a small shrug to the leader's earlier unanswered question. "And about the others; Mukotsu is upstairs, finishing up some papers; Suikotsu won't be home for another good hour from the hospital; Jakotsu's in class and it ends in another forty minutes; Kyokotsu should be back by now from work; and Ginkotsu too, from the shop."
"Good." Bankotsu noted as he lit up the main computer screen in the desolate room that contained nothing but white walls and a near invisible exit and entrance, his voice switching to a commanding one immediately. "When everyone is home and fed, inform the others to meet me here. Place the new requests in my quarters, I will look them over after I'm done here."
"Yes, oo-aniki." Renkotsu nodded as he left, taking the folder of requests with him. Alone once more, the leader pressed a neon green button, his voice resonating in the room as he spoke. "Unlock."
"Leader of Shichinintai, Bankotsu-sama; acknowledged." A robotic voice echoed as the addressed boy replied.
"Begin Simulation A87-8."
"Acknowledged." The voice responded. "Simulation A87-8, starting."
With a hum, the screen disappeared as the boy smirked, dodging a thin burst of power with a fluid jump, noting at the appearance of faux robotic drones shaped like soldiers wielding blades.
"Star Wars, much; Renkotsu?" Bankotsu smirked, before adding an afterthought. "But then again, I did say how I liked the light-sabers in movies."
Slicing open one of the drones, ruby oil splattered the floor as the boy smirked wider at the sight, the liquid too dark to be blood but convincing enough at the glance. Thanks, Renkotsu.
And that was not the only thing that the leader had thanked his second-in-command for. And it was certainly wasn't going to be the last. Even though they had several head-butts in the past, the young Bankotsu proved himself to be the older man's superior, signifying that he was the leader for a reason.
It was when the two had first met.
After the mysterious disappearances of the children who were found freshly buried behind the house, the caretaker was blamed for the deaths as an overwhelming amount evidence was found on the scene, refusing to cooperate in finding the remaining two boys who were not found at the dump site, buried in the back of the house. That is until a soft tapping took a female investigator from her task, following the sound. Coming to a thin wall in the side of the house, the investigator quickly called for assistance. Breaking open the wall, the officers bore expressions of pity as they found the two boys, their clothes bloodied with their own blood, clearly beaten, the older one hugging the younger as if to shield him. Underfed and orbs dulled with fatigue and hunger, the boys had only a blanket to shield themselves, immediately going to police custody.
Once given a good night's sleep, a hearty meal at the station, and a visit from the hospital; the two were questioned together, none having the heart tear the two apart from the way they clung to one another. After concluding the boys as survivors of the ordeal, the boys were sent to a temple to reside for a while until child services took over.
Bankotsu blinked his large cobalt orbs innocently, his thoughts much darker than his expression as he watched with disguised mirth as his caretaker was dragged away from the interrogation room, stifling a snort behind his fingers as the vile woman spat curses at him and Jakotsu. Disguising a snicker for a snort, the boy clung closer to the older boy, who hugged him tighter, only to disguise a smirk that the younger mirrored, as if sharing an inside joke. Stupid bitch had it coming.
"Boys," The kind investigator who found them smiled sadly as the addressed brothers looked up at the woman, masks back on as they huddled a little closer. "The head monk from the monastery has come to pick you up."
The head monk was a stern bald man in dark blue robes, a white pearled rosary in his hands as he spoke to the officer, a wrinkled brow risen. By the man's side was a young man, barely out of his childhood. His head was clean shaven, robes of a common monk, an indigo blue; he had kind and soothing eyes of a monk. But Bankotsu was not fooled.
He had seen those eyes before, it was the ones he currently wore. Tempered and tinted with an illusion so that others could not see the bloodlust within the windows of their souls.
Interesting. Bankotsu thought. To think he thought only he and Jakotsu had a lust for blood. Apparently not.
"I am the Head Monk." The said person introduced himself with a gruff voice before gesturing to his company. "And this is my apprentice, Hibiki."
"Hello." Jakotsu greeted timidly, as the boys introduced themselves in turn.
Nodding at the substantial manners, the Head Monk led the boys to their temporary home. It was well into a month until the boys noticed something strange of the home that they were pushed into. The dirt was always fertile, the air almost too clean even for a place of spiritual worship; the skeleton was buried deep in this place. But where?
It was only later that Bankotsu had found it to be literal.
Dashing down the stairs from behind the golden Buddha, not bothering to pay the respects as the monks had instructed him to, Bankotsu merely scoffed it the golden statue before he continued in his mad run, when he heard a bellowing voice, making the boy pause in his stride.
"How dare you!"
Once sure that the threat was not pointed to him, the braided boy followed the voice, silently tiptoeing toward the voices. "Do you have any idea what you have done, Hibiki?"
Hibiki? The boy thought, flinging his shoulder length braid away from his face, narrowing his cobalt orbs with curiosity as he listened in, an idea coming to mind as he sported a smirk.
"I have tolerated this behavior for the last time, Hibiki!" The Head Monk from what Bankotsu recognized. "Just what is that compels you to set alight others and things for your own amusement? You are committed to a life free of temptation; not to take life and bow to temptation!"
With a huff, the Head Monk stomped off, executing his punishment as he left. "You are to kneel there and repent! Repent upon the sins you have committed and why you are to repent! You are to not move until I give you the explicit order to do so!"
Hiding with a series of leaps to the wooden beams above, the braided boy watched with a thin smirk, recalling all the times he had to do the same for more than one things he had done against the Head Monk. The man was too strung up in his opinion always appearing as if he had something stuck up his ass. Sure that the man was gone, the boy landed softly, revealing himself to the seven-years-old boy, who knelt obediently before the zen garden, bright eyes defiant.
"Hello." Bankotsu greeted with a smirk. "Do you remember me?"
The bald older glared angrily, snapping as he spoke through gritted teeth, spitting at the end. "No, I don't. And as you can see, I am currently being punished."
"Pity." The braided boy replied, before dropping his smirk with an arrogant smile. "And for a moment, I thought you were actually one of us, Hibiki. Well, it seems like I was mistaken. I will not disturb your repentance."
Turning away with a lackadaisical shrug, the braided boy only made two steps when his bait was bitten. "One of you?"
"Bloodlust, Hibiki." Bankotsu elaborated, turning back with a soft step. "Those who cherish the way warm blood flows from the corpse in rivers as the life in a person leaves it. Me and my brother, we take pleasure in taking such measures to watch and perform it with gusto."
"To kill?" Hibiki breathed, before it hitched. "But that is a mortal sin! I am a monk of the solitary life, committed to living without falling to my temptations! I cannot allow myself to fall to weakness! Buddha does not allow us to befall to such in his teachings!"
To the bald older's surprise, the young boy shrugged. "Buddha, or not. It is your life, is it not; Hibiki? Why should anyone or Buddha for that matter, decide upon your fate? Why not take on what you wish to do? Or do you merely wish to continue to live as an echo with the monastery?"
"And who are you to accuse me of befalling weakness?" The braided boy argued. "You have befallen into the pits of temptation long before my arrival. Why not allow the temptation to overwhelm yourself, and fulfill it? Why ignore the calls of bloodlust, when you have already heeded once? Once you have started, you should finish it. Leaving things unfinished, is that the way of Buddha?"
The bald boy was silent. What should he do? Defy his master and escape with these two boys? But where would they go then? And of poor Usui, the only friend he had ever had? What would they say if they saw him? How would they escape if they were going to do so? And if I did and Usui came as well, how will the three of us survive?
"You fool." Hibiki spat at the boy who rose an eyebrow at the bombardment of questions. "How would you allow us to escape from this place with just the three of us? When there are only ten days until you and your brother are going to be gone with the child services?"
"Leave that to me. Concern yourself of whether you will join me and my brother." Bankotsu smirked as he smacked his fist on his other hand as if he had forgotten, speaking to the older boy who was currently at his eye level. "By the way, your friend can come too."
"W-What?" The much older boy looked up at the boy with widened orbs.
"Jakotsu and I have seen you two talking at night, when you sneak out. He's quiet but he seems nice, helping you disposing of the bodies by burying them in the gardens. The bloodlust in him is just as thirsty as yours." Bankotsu smirked as he left a flabbergasted boy behind, needing to attend to much consideration.
It was late into the sixth night that Bankotsu received an answer.
Propped on the outspread futon, Jakotsu unclipped the butterfly pin with a smile of mirth, clipping the pin to his white hakama when the doors opened with a slide, revealing a long-haired Bankotsu, his ebony locks wet from the shower.
"Bankotsu oo-aniki!" Jakotsu chirped as Bankotsu rose an eyebrow, questioning as his brother pouted, whining as the younger joined the older on the floor. "How much longer do we have to stay here? I thought you said that we would be leaving soon?"
"That depends if Hibiki has come to a decision yet, Ja." The younger replied with a thin smirk, as a knock sounded. "Speak of the devil."
"Enter." Bankotsu obliged as the two ebony-haired boys found themselves with company as Hibiki and a much older man enter, his appearance disfigured. With a deep breath, the bald teen turned to the youngest long-haired boy, who sported a full smirk.
"So, what's the plan?"