A Royal Capture
Chapter Five
It was a cold, windy night at the orphanage. All of the other children were wrapped up in blankets in front of the fire, but since he wanted nothing to do with them, Andrew stayed in the corner, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts. He stared endlessly at the little hole in the wall, where a mouse would sometimes peek its head out - although, it would never be allowed inside. He made sure of that. And not just that, but he kept all animal intruders out of his home - mosquitos, raccoons, and the like. He kept the place dust-free, guarded his home at night, and made sure none of the children ever got hurt. He was the strongest, the most responsible, the most independant of all of them. But no one who ever came to adopt ever showed any interest in him.
They would talk to him... pretend to be interested, but afterwards, they could be heard in another room, telling the director of Andrew's lack of emotion and robotic personality. No one liked him, and he didn't like them either.
In fact, he hated them all.
Humans were just a bunch of worthless, corruptable beasts. If they would just disappear altogether, everything would be better...
And then, on that day, that cold day, his prayers seemed to be answered. A man with bright white hair, alongside another man with long teal hair, walked into the orphanage. Their eyes were bright with future plans, their faces sleek and young, their bodies lean and able. They were filled with a power only Andrew could sense, a mystic, almost godly aura that made his heart race and his eyes brighten. They were his chance at a better life.
"'Scuze us! We need a place to stay for the night, all the hotels are booked," said the white-haired male to the director, adjusting his low-cut purple shirt and snickering softly. "Sorry if we're rude or anything, but... I don't suppose using your couch would be too much trouble?"
"That would be all right," the taller male murmured, combing a hand back through his hair and whispering, "But sorry if any of the children bother you tonight..."
"Fufu! That'd be fun!" he giggled, before looking back at his companion. "Right, Kikyo? You like kids?"
"Oho? Certainly, Lord Byakuran," Kikyo answered, smiling.
"Okay, then wonderful," the director said, before moving to the room with all the children and saying, "Everyone... let's let our guests have their space. Go on up to your rooms."
"Okay!" they agreed, standing and leaving. Forgotten, Andrew stayed back, curling up in the corner and blending in, watching as the director followed the other kids upstairs. Once they were gone, the two males began to talk softly to each other.
"It's pretty good luck. While we're here, we can rest up a bit... and then we can go to the assylum to pick up our Sun guardian."
"Indeed," Kikyo agreed, sitting down in the smaller, uncomfortable seat and leaning back. "You shall soon have everything you desire, Lord Byakuran. The world will be in our hands to do as we like. A new universe can finally be born."
"A new universe?!" Andrew gasped, not thinking. As the attention of both males snapped to him, he blushed crimson and hid his face against the wall. "I- I'm sorry... I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I..."
"Hohh, cute! Look at this little guy!" Byakuran laughed, walking over to Andrew and picking him up by his underarms, soon resting him against his own chest. "You overheard our little plans for our next book, huh?"
"Book...?" Andrew murmured, eyebrows furrowing.
"Yeah. We're writing a book! Kikyo's my editor, so we sometimes roleplay the main characters, you know?" Byakuran giggled, moving back to the couch and sitting down so that Andrew was in his lap. With wide, amber eyes, the boy rested his cheek against the older male's collarbone, biting his lip.
"It seemed really real," he whispered, letting a strand of white hair tickle his forehead. He bit his lip and cuddled a little closer towards the other man, a bit subconsciously. This was the first visitor to ever have the same bright hair as his own, and somehow, he already felt like family. "I don't like people," Andrew murmured. "If someone created a new universe... I would like it. If someone got rid of this world... got rid of even me... I wouldn't mind."
"Hmm~? You sound like a smart kid, kid," Byakuran giggled, bouncing Andrew a little in his lap. "You wanna come with us?"
"My Lord...," Kikyo chuckled softly from the couch, shaking his head as if it was a silly idea.
"Yeah!" Andrew said, sitting up and meeting the other male's eyes with his amber gaze. "Y-yes, please! I wanna make a new world with you!"
"Now, I told you, that's just a book," Byakuran said, smiling.
"I don't think so," the boy replied, staring at the older male persistently. "I think you mean it, and I wanna be a part of-"
Suddenly, the albino's amethyst eyes turned hard, stony cold, and he growled, "It's just a book."
Andrew felt his entire mind feeling like it had been invaded and neutralized, and the joy in his eyes died immediately. He whimpered and backed down, now knowing that he wasn't meant to feel that joy. For the first time in his life, he'd felt excitement, but just as quick as it had started, it was destroyed. He felt the man pick him up and place him down on the ground again, his eyes still indifferent.
"Kikyo, let's go somewhere else. I don't want to have any more to do with this brat," Byakuran grunted, standing. "Let's find a hotel, where there won't be any stupid kids prying into our lives."
"Indeed, sir," Kikyo agreed, starting to follow Byakuran to the door. "Let us depart."
As they stopped in the door, Kikyo turned to glance at the boy. "Keep dreaming kid. You've got somethin' about you. A spark of sorts."
Just like that, they were gone, and Andrew looked down.
"Spark..."
Day Eighty.
In a room filled with light chatter.
"Well, thanks...," Squalo mumbled from his place on the seat. Zakuro had brought it in a while ago, saying that Squalo better be damn thankful for it. The rain guardian agreed to sit beside Zakuro, but was reluctant at first. "But I don't agree with you."
"Oh yeah? Well you're opinion doesn't matter, idjit. You're hot, no questions asked."
Squalo snickered, then glanced at the camera he'd discovered a while back, grinning before he grabbed Zakuro's chin in his hand. "Then why don't you make me an honest man, you ass?"
Zakuro arched an eyebrow, then grinned, before leaning forward, sealing Squalo's mouth with his own.
If Xanxus was a clumsy kisser, then Zakuro had never kissed a guy before in his whole, pathetic life. The entire instance was a learning experience for the shark. He learned, for example, that the taste of alchohol was a lot more fun than the taste of cigarettes. Zakuro's lips were chapped, cold, rough, and he wasn't a fan of mouthwash. Even though his eyes were shut and his nose was crinkled, Squalo could tell that Zakuro was amused by the entire situation. He could feel the stubble against his chin, and the ragged breath coming from Zakuro's nose. It was almost like he had to stop himself from laughing against Squalo's lips.
Unable to take it anymore, Squalo pulled back and coughed away the residue of the other male, soon muttering, "You kiss like a freakin' teenager."
"Ha, well I'd not done it before," Zakuro snorted. "Kissing's freakin' weird."
Squalo looked away, frowning. These damn Spiaggia just didn't get it. "... Hey, Zakuro?"
"Hm?"
"Can I see that guy's grave? The one I loved?" Squalo asked.
"... Ugh, y'know what? Lemme give you a secret... he's not dead," Zakuro muttered gruffly. "But you'd rather spend time with me, right? Rather than a shriveled up old fool?"
"... Yeah... 'course...," Squalo muttered. "I'd take you any day."
The words made him want to throw up.
"... Why don't I... bring him in? Let you tell the loser off?" Zakuro suggested, eyes glinting with sadistic glee.
"That... sounds like a crapload of fun," the shark lied, glancing up to Zakuro with a fake smile. "Let's do it, idjit." He winked, before leaning forward and pecking Zakuro's cheek.
"Hellyeah, let's," the other purred, standing and starting to leave. "Be back in a few!"
Squalo shivered as he left, soon hanging his head. What was he getting himself into?
When the red-haired male came back, he had chains in his hand. Xanxus was dragged in with him, the older male lying on his back and refusing to move. He seemed to be... asleep. Forcing back a smile, Squalo automatically saw the image of their boss surrounded by battle and explosions and shouting, fast asleep, dreaming of steak-fish and wine. It was hard not to coo out the phrase, 'You crazy boss of mine.'
"Sorry, I tried to get the little turd to wake up, but... I'm sure you know how it goes. Perhaps you can do a better job," Zakuro muttered.
"Yeah, I know how," Squalo said, moving to the body and picking it up, before laying it against the couch. With a soft sigh, he reached forward, and used his thumb to draw open the other male's jaws, before suddenly pinching either side of his lips and pulling his cheeks as far apart as he could. The result was a duck-like sound followed by an annoyed grunt, and at last finished with Xanxus opening his eyes and glaring at Squalo, ignoring the funny face as he muttered out a grumpy 'I was dreaming.' Suppressing his smile still, Squalo growled, "You damn bastard of a boss, Zakuro brought you here so I could tell you how I really feel. I hate y-"
"Damn shark trash...," the boss interrupted, "I don't give a shit. It's your fault we're here, anyway. Not noticing my absence... If you really want someone else, then take them. It's your loss, not mine." Xanxus gave Squalo a tired glare, but in it flickered a spark of knowing.
Permission was given for Squalo to infiltrate further into the Spiaggia family.
Day Eighty.
In a room with a single light.
When the tears came, he was angry, and when he yelled, it was of sorrow. Shouchi was all mixed up, frustrated, and now, continuously searching for a way out of the room he was trapped in. He found only one door, and though it was locked firecely, he tried to get through, bashing into it and trying like hell to at least damage it, but succeeding only in bruising himself. Taking notice of his defiance, people no longer came to gave him food or drink, and being alone was the worst torture. As he continued to try desperately break out of his prison, he continued to bring himself more pain, but physical bruises were much more welcomed than mental and emotional distress.
"Shou-chan."
The voice he heard was sudden, a savior to him. "You have a video feed showing me in my room, right? You saw everything that happened, right, Shou-chan?" Running to the monitor and staring at it in awe, Shouichi almost melted as Byakuran's blurry face stared right back at him. "I was talking to mister Pooh-bah Spark, and I convinced him to hook up an audio feed for me. Y'know, I'm almost all healthy and ready to fight again, Shou-chan, look!" He turned around and spread his wings, flapping them a couple times. "I'm going to win against Spark, Shou-chan. And then we'll see who runs the show, ne?" He winked, gave his classic villainous smile, then whispered, "I love you."
"Lo- love you t-t-," the mechanic hiccupped, still shocked, when Byakuran put a finger over his own lips.
"Shh. It's our little secret," he whispered. Heart hammering in his chest, Shouichi found himself wanting to squeal like a little teenaged girl. Byakuran was pulling through this - the man before him was once again his Byakuran, a powerful, supreme ruler of others! His power was returning? He was going to fight Spark?
Somehow, Shouichi began to wonder if the two of them were actually going to be main plot devices in this arc.
... Nah, couldn't be.
Day Eighty.
In a room with no soul.
Mukuro was mentally and physically exhausted. He hadn't been so tired since Byakuran had stripped him of power those few years ago. Kei had done the same - but instead of all at once, Kei had picked away his energy piece by piece, made him a hollow shell of an illusionist with no chances of escape now. But despite his poor state, he felt satisfied, because he knew that Hibari wasn't doing half as bad as he was.
Adapt or die, Hibari would sometimes say, and even in this bleak situation, Hibari was starting to adapt. He, alongside that tiger, had started to pull through, taking advantage of any random subordinates that came into the room in the most brutal of ways.
Hibari didn't eat - he wasn't satisfied with the small pickings. Instead, he had the tiger take any of their kills, and by now - twenty days after he'd first taken the tiger on as a partner of sorts - the beast was stronger than he had been before - strong enough to take down Hibari himself if it so desired, but by now, the tiger had grown a certain level of respect for the human.
The both of them were companions now, and they worked as a unit.
Unfortunately for them, Daisy had not yet returned to their room, so they were unable to exact revenge on him.
With a soft, empty chuckle, Mukuro glanced up, towards the monitor. "You're a shogun, Hibari. I swear it." He smiled and leaned back against the pillar that he'd been coupled with for the past weeks, soon muttering, "But when are you going to make a move? Your samurai are tired and hungry, so void of the basic necessities that they feel like giving up..."
"Come for me..."
Day Eighty.
In a room with no love.
Fran sighed and picked up his knight, soon moving it to take out a rook. "Ha!" he laughed after the fact, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"What, do you think I'm just going to back off because you took out a silly little castle? I've still got my queen and bishops!" Bluebell replied with a crooked grin, soon glancing back at the chessboard in consideration. "Hmm. How do you like that knight of yours?"
Fran gave a deadpan look. "I think, just like Bel-senpai, if its not gonna treat me right, it oughta just be sacrificed for better things."
Bluebell giggled. "Wow, that was cold! Even for you, Fran."
Fran sighed and rested back in his seat. "I can't help it. The more you talk to me, the more I realize just how right you are. He rarely thinks about my feelings, he doesn't respect the few boundaries I have, and I know for a fact he shares information I'd rather keep private with Mammon. You know how annoying it is to have that little frog baby come up to me and tease me about something I considered to be completely private between senpai and I? It's just not cool..."
"Well, Fran, I have something to share...," Bluebell said, reaching out and softly stroking the illusionist's cheek. "We can set up a video feed in Belphegor's room, so you can see just what he's been up to. The truth is, we stuck him in a room with one of our subordinates, and they're totally hooking up. I was worried I'd hurt you before, but you seem pretty callous to it all now. You wanna see what Prince the Loser's up to, hun?"
"See what a wreck he is without me? The offer's tempting, but I pass," Fran snorted. "I'd really rather not deal with him at all."
"Have it your way," Bluebell answered with a shrug. "That's fine."
Fran sighed and stood, moving around the tale, before leaning down and pecking Bluebell's cheek. "Thank you."
She gave a faint smirk, soon whispering a 'no problem.' The two hugged briefly.
The illusionist could never have guessed the volume of the errors he was making.
-End Chapter
*glomps readers* Hello everyone~! Here's a nice, fat, on time upload for you all! :D You wouldn't guess it, but I actually had to edit this baby three times because of computer problems. D:
Liking the plot? Tell me~!
Review for BATTLES AND BROMANCE!