Kimizuki and Yoichi left Mirai's room, granting her some much needed sleep. Kimizuki hadn't said much after Yoichi had joined him and Mirai, but he had kept up his stern facade. As Yoichi turned right for them to part ways, Kimizuki grabbed his wrist to take him left.
"Hey, hey, Kimizuki, where are you taking me? My dorm is that way, you know." Yoichi exclaimed, but he then went willingly with the taller boy. He followed the twists and turns that Kimizuki took him around, followed down dark corridors and bright, open spaces, away from the dorms, away from the medical ward, and away from other people that were out and about.
Finally, Kimizuki brought him to a dark corner, under the stairs of an abandoned wing. There was a chair that had been set up at a table with a candle on top of it directly under the sixth step. In the darkest possible place here. Yoichi stood in silent confusion as Kimizuki took a chair from another room and placed it right next to the chair that was already there.
Yoichi assumed that the new chair was for him, so he promptly sat down and was joined by Kimizuki next to him. They sat in silence for a while, just like that, it wasn't an awkward silence either, it was comfortable and pleasant. Kimizuki had removed his glasses and he sat there with his fingers entwined together and his head resting on them.
Yoichi assumed a position with his left arm extended and bent back on itself, creating a sort of pillow for his head. He simply stared up at the other man, and after a little while, he could already feel the tendrils of sleep reaching through his subconscious, pulling him through to their depths. He fought them off by biting the inside of his cheek, not wanting Kimizuki to notice.
Just then, he noticed a drop of water fall from Kimizuki's hands, and then another, and another. It was then that Yoichi realized he was crying. His shoulders began to shake and the droplets seemed to fall faster and faster, a sob escaped from the trembling body next to him. Before long, Kimizuki appeared to be a train wreck, Yoichi thought he had tried to speak to him, but it had only resulted in more and more tears and sobbing.
Yoichi stood up, knocking down the wooden chair that Kimizuki had obtained for him, and he grabbed the pink-haired man's shoulders. He pulled him up to his full height and let him sob onto his shoulder. No words were said, and none were needed. Eventually, Kimizuki's legs gave in to the weight of whatever he was carrying and they each slid down the stone wall, Kimizuki gripping the shirt of the smaller man. Yoichi, wrapping his arms around the taller man's shoulders, not caring that his shirt was getting soaked.
After a half hour of this, it appeared that Kimizuki had exhausted all of his tears onto Yoichi, and Yoichi had taken them all, without question or need, he ran his fingers through the short hair of the taller man in an effort to calm him. It seemed to have worked as he stopped shaking a while before, but he still continued to do so, he liked the way the pink hair felt between his fingers, it was softer than it looked.
Kimizuki straightened himself, still breathing heavily, his eyes were red and puffy. Yoichi smiled briefly he looked different and odd without his glasses, almost, dare he think it, cute.
"Th-thanks, Yoichi, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you anything at all. I-I just needed to-to, I needed to do that. I'm so, so sorry. And-and then when you were, when you were in there when you were in there and talking to Mirai, you said-you said all of those things that I know aren't true about me. And I know that I'm being really, extremely selfish here, but I just needed to-I needed to do something, I needed to let someone in, someone who wouldn't laugh at me, someone who wouldn't say anything, someone who would care. And, you-you were just there, and I saw your eyes lightened up when you talked to Mirai about me, and I couldn't let Mirai see me like this." Kimizuki spilled everything, words tumbling over each other, hardly stopping to correct his mistakes in articulation. "I come to this little corner after just about every visit to Mirai. She means the world to me and I love her with all my heart, but after every single time, I just-there's just something that I feel, and I hate myself for it."
Yoichi grabbed each of the larger man's hands in his own, they didn't even come close to fully encompassing the more calloused hands. He listened to everything that Kimizuki said, he listened to everything. The muscled man shuddered and shook at every sentence. He never made eye contact with Yoichi, but Yoichi watched his every move. It hurt his heart to see Kimizuki like this, it hurt every fiber of his body to see anyone he cared about in pain.
"I feel so powerless because she just gets worse and worse with every single visit, you saw how she could barely move this time. Last time she wouldn't wake, and she has nightmares every single time she sleeps, the doctors tell me. She would never tell me. She's just so amazing and full of hope, and I know that she's going to get even worse, every time I go there. But then she smiles at me like nothing is wrong. She smiles and I know it's fake, but even so, I ignore it. I ignore it and I hate myself for it."
Suddenly, Yoichi saw something that made his blood run cold. There, on Kimizuki's wrists, far enough back that no one would notice if he was in full uniform, was a dark red spot. He immediately pulled up the sleeves of Kimizuki's jacket to reveal burns. They had started to blister and Yoichi suspected them to be second-degree. "What is this?!" He demanded.
Kimizuki's eyes widened and he tried to jerk his hands away, but Yoichi had a grip far beyond what he was used to. "It's-it's nothing that you need to worry about, I-I burned myself while I was cooking the other day."
Yoichi detected the lie immediately. He looked at Kimizuki with hurt in his eyes. "No, you didn't. You did this to yourself, didn't you? Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
Kimizuki couldn't meet his eyes, he couldn't see the eyes that pleaded with him to tell him what was happening. There was guilt in Yoichi's eyes, guilt, and sadness. Kimizuki felt horrible all over again. Now he had brought Yoichi into his own mess. He had brought Yoichi into something that he couldn't control. Now he had something else to worry about, someone else to worry over.
"Please, please tell me. I don't want you to hurt anymore. Tell me." Yoichi pleaded. "Tell me, I don't want to see anyone else I care about suffer. I beg of you." Yoichi gently placed his fingers on the burns, feeling the heat radiate from them. "I'm going to help you now. I promise you're not allowed to move from this spot." Yoichi left then, running through the twists and turns.
He grabbed cool water and ice, placing them together, and he grabbed several burn ointments, placing them all together in a bin. He grabbed gauze and towels. Trying to remember the way back, he ran through the corridors that Kimizuki had pulled him through, after three wrong turns, he eventually reached the abandoned stairwell that he should still be behind.
Yoichi's heart swelled with relief when he saw that he was still there. He placed the supplies on the table, spilling its contents somewhat. He gathered the water, ice, and a towel, placing the towel open and putting several chunks of ice in the center. He then dampened the towel and met the corners together, keeping the ice in the center.
"Now take off your jacket," Yoichi commanded, holding the towel in his hand and staring at Kimizuki expectantly.
"Why?"
"Because then I can see the burns better and clean them."
"No, why are you helping me? They're just little burns."
"No, they're not. Those are second-degree burns. Now take off your jacket."
Kimizuki complied, removing the black jacket to reveal his bare skin underneath. Yoichi gasped as he saw the extent of his burns, they started at the wrist and made their way up his forearms and they were even creeping up to his chest.
"Kimizuki, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell anyone?" Yoichi started dabbing at the burns on his right arm. "Do they still hurt?" Yoichi asked cautiously.
"Yeah, they still hurt, the ones up here are the most recent." He gestured to his upper arm, which displayed burns that were definitely much more recent than the others. As Yoichi made his way up his arm, reaching the most recent of burns, he flinched.
"Crap, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. Why, did you start doing this, Kimizuki?" He continued to try and administer as best he could with the supplies he had gathered.
"A couple years ago," Kimizuki started, "There was a time when I was told to kill Mirai so that we could move more freely and so that we would be safer. Mirai herself suggested this because she could tell that it was difficult trying to keep her safe like I was. A few of the guys I hung out with at the time also agreed that that was what we needed to do. I refused, obviously." He went through the entire spiel of his tragic backstory, explaining that he just couldn't kill his sister, or leave her there to die and it made it all the more difficult because she was trying to get him to do it. "There was one night, and I had been watching her sleep when she woke up. And she had a hardness in her eyes that hadn't been there before. She started yelling at me as loud as she could make her voice in her state. Saying things like, 'Can't you tell I'm not happy this way.' 'Why do you still try to save me, I am now and always will be dead weight to you.' 'You're just being selfish, you're only keeping me around to save yourself the guilt.' She said many other things but the gist was simple, leave me here and save yourself.
"I was incredibly hurt by what she had said and I left her room for the night, but some of the things that she had told me stuck with me. That I was keeping her alive against her will and because of that, she was suffering. So I took a blade and I drew it across my skin, biting down on a shirt that I had discarded to keep from screaming. Then, there was blood, there was blood gushing from the wound that I had put on my wrist. I panicked, My vision started to swim from the pain and all I could think about was trying to stop the bleeding. Blood would attract vampires and vampires would attract death. So the same blade that I used to open my wrist, I heated, watching the metal blacken slowly. Then I placed the blade against my wound, cauterizing it, stopping the bleeding, but leaving the smell of burned flesh behind. I had to find water, cool water that would stop this new pain. I found it and that was the end of that wound, but I knew that I couldn't slice open my skin again, I needed bandages for that. But burns, burns were easily hidden and all I needed was water. And deep down inside, I realized that I needed the pain, I needed the pain to remind me that it was my fault and that I deserved it for what I was doing and what I had done."
"You will not hurt yourself anymore," Yoichi said after several minutes of silence. "You will not burn your skin so that it blisters, you will not drag blades across your skin. You will swear that you will cause your body no more harm than it has already endured. If you ever feel like you need to remember what your body looks like with the skin burned off and these blisters appearing on your skin. You do not need this pain. You need to remember your sister's smiling face. You need to remember what it would be like to see her see what you've done to yourself. You need to remember me and what I will do. Remember me, because I don't know what I would do if I were to lose you. Please, remember me. Remember me and come to me whenever you need me. Please, I beg of you, come to me and not a flame. Come to Mirai and not a blade. Just promise me that you will not ever do this to yourself again."
Yoichi had wrapped his arms around the man that was with him, gently, and avoiding the burns, until the pink haired man finally whispered, "I promise."
Mitsuba awoke to her face being pressed into the bosom of another woman. What is this? It's warm and kinda nice. She snuggled deeper into the comfort that had joined her. The warmth that was beside her made her feel something but she wasn't sure what that something was quite yet.
Whether it was nice or not, it was starting to get a little too hot and close for comfort for her. She disentangled the limbs of the woman sleeping next to her, and that was when she realized she had been sweating. But this wasn't the sweat that came from being hot. This was the kind of sweating that came from nightmares.
Taking a look around the room, she realized that the sleeping form had been Shinoa and that this was her room. Looking a little more closely, she could see a wet towel by the bedside. As she approached the towel and picked it up, she could tell that it stunk of sweat.
Shinoa took her attention away from the towel and everything else in the room when she moved. Mitsuba was never really one to watch someone sleep, but Shinoa was different, it was the one time that she felt safe from all forms of harassment from her dear squad leader. Her face was lax and peaceful, she wasn't at all trying to come up with new insults for them. Well, knowing Shinoa, that's something that she might actually dream about.
Mitsuba took a seat on the side of the bed and watched the sleeping form. She pushed a few strands of hair out of the other's face. Appreciating the pristine slackness of her face in all of its glory. She wondered what she was dreaming about and why she was in Shinoa's room and not her own.
Then she remembered her dream. She'd had that dream again. The dream where she failed. She failed at being a soldier. She broke protocol and because of that, he died. She could feel tears starting to form at the edges of her eyes. No, I will not cry. I swear that I won't cry ever again. I. Will. Not. Cry. She told herself vehemently.
Shinoa seemed to toss and turn in her sleep, maybe disturbed by the girl that sat over her, playing with her hair. Why am I in her room anyways? She thought to herself.
Shinoa's room was slightly more extravagant than her own, slightly larger with a bigger bed. She had far more room in her closet and a larger desk, which had a single bound book on it. The book was brown and had a black ribbon that wrapped around the side that would open. It was quite an odd color choice, but then again, it was Shinoa and you couldn't associate her with modern logic.
The book seemed to call Mitsuba from where she was on the bed. Glancing back at Shinoa's sleeping form, she whispered to her and poked and prodded at her body. Once she was sure she was in a deep sleep, she slowly made her way to where the book was. In big, black, faded letters, it read 日記帳. Wait, was she serious? Shinoa kept a diary? She was sure to find some great blackmail in here. Slowly, she unwrapped the diary and opened to the first entry that was there. She felt a pang of guilt that she was doing this, but there would be no harm done anyways, right?
December 25, 2011, Entry One,
I am so very hapy. Papa got me this book for my birtday! Now i haf a book just lik big sis! Im six now isnt that sooooooo exiting? Ther ar a lot more giffs fur me to open now. So by!
Mitsuba looked at the cute handwriting that littered the first page. There were many misspellings, but Shinoa was six, it's amazing that she was able to do that much. There were several other entries that all meant nothing to her or the blackmail that she wanted. But then, about one year later, there was an entry with most of the date smudged out.
[Smudged writing], 2012, Entry 89,
Something hapened and I dont know what. A lot of the peopl I used to see arent around anymor. They all just colapsed. They started cofing and cofing and blod came out of their moths. Its all the grown ups to. The kids I wood play with are all alone now. Theyr all crying. [Smudged writing] but Papa wants me to stay away from them. When big sis ran away she said something about [Smudged writing] and Papa yeled at her. Maybe this is what she was taking about. But [Smudged writing] she looked at me with hate. Did she look at big brother like that to? Papas yeling at me again now I need to go.
Mitsuba's heart stilled. This was the day that it all went wrong. This was an entry from the day that the apocalypse virus took the lives of everyone. Of everyone who was over the age of thirteen. Flipping through more pages, she found the entry from the day that she and Mitsuba had joined squads, it was one of the last entries in the book.
Oh crap, I don't even remember the date today, Entry Four-hundred and seven,
Finally, Mitsu and I have finally joined squads. Today is awesome and truly amazing. I love her beautiful blonde hair and how it blows in the wind. Her personality is something to marvel at as well. How many times did she yell at Yuu today? I have no clue but it was adorable, seeing her worked up over everything he did against her will. Honestly, Mitsu is so adorable, well, she has the most beautiful smile, I wish that she would move it more often.-
Suddenly feeling very sick, Mitsuba immediately closed the diary, feeling like if she went any further, she would find out more about Shinoa than the girl herself wanted to, blackmail or no.
She looked back at the girl that was always smiling, provoking, and antagonizing her. She still slept peacefully, unknowing that Mitsuba had peered into what she wrote as a child and what she wrote right now.
She needed to leave now, even if Shinoa didn't know that she had looked through her stuff, she knew. She felt dirty, like an intruder. A burglar, someone who stole away into someone's life and stole the most valuable thing in their possession. She didn't want Shinoa to know that she looked into her diary, there was no way that she was ever going to let her know.
Quickly composing herself, she walked over to Shinoa's sleeping form, and placed a quick peck on her left cheek, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. Running out of her room, she didn't notice Shinoa's eyes crack open just the slightest and a small smile appeared on her face.
Shinya continued to explore Guren's mouth. He couldn't remember how many times he had felt this tooth or how many times he had passed his tongue across the other man's tongue. It didn't matter, all that mattered at this point was the body that was oh, so close to his own. Breaking apart for a short while, so they could each catch their breath, Shinya stared into the purple eyes of his partner.
They both smiled, and Guren moved to sit down in his chair. Shinya smiled as he looked at the man who was normally his same height but was now quite short. Short enough for something else, he thought. But immediately discarded that thought from his head, they were still in Guren's office, anyone could barge in and it would be really bad if he was found half-clothed.
So he settled on straddling the man, legs spread to either side of the other's and arms resting on shoulders. The chair was uncomfortable but comfortable at the same time, it caused his legs to be bent at an awkward angle, but it offered the best angle for everything that he wanted to do.
Shinya leaned in for yet another kiss, but this time, he submit to the black-haired man, letting him feel each and every tooth in his mouth and felt the sensation of everything that was Guren.
Guren started taking the initiative then, slowly unbuttoning Shinya's jacket, exposing the bare flesh of his chest. Guren removed his gloves, letting his bare fingers run free, tracing the veins of Shinya's chest. Finding muscles shift and move, following them to others. He traced pictures on the pale skin of Shinya, finding comfort in the warmth that emanated from his skin.
Shinya could feel Guren's chilled fingers trace various lines on his body that he couldn't see or feel until they were exposed by Guren. He could feel the paths that each and every finger left on his skin, he could feel every pattern that Guren exposed. Guren's fingers wandered to the small of his back, sending shivers down Shinya's spine.
His whole body shuddered and he arched his back, breaking the kiss to try and get more of the cold fingers that were running themselves up and down his spine. He felt them trace his shoulder blades, and reaching up and around, feeling the crevices between his collar bones.
Guren slowly placed his mouth below the ribcage of the white-haired man, following the muscles up the front of his body, gently. Guren was never rough with Shinya, he could never be rough with him. He stopped ascending the pale body when he reached the neck, he could feel the pulse that circulated life through Shinya. He could feel the warmth that radiated from his neck. He kept his mouth there for a while, slowly circling his tongue around the vital artery. Placing tiny kisses around it, making his way up to the mouth of the man whom he loved.
Shinya met him halfway, crashing his mouth into the black-haired man's, running his fingers through the mussed hair that he loved. The black hair that seemed to define his personality, it was black and soulless if you just looked at the exterior, but if you got a chance to appreciate it and feel it, it was soft and smooth.
No one would ever get to feel the soft side of Guren other than him, he swore. I will never let him go, he thought to himself, I promise.
The vampire city was always cold at night, especially when you were alone. Mikaela made his way to the building he had called 'home' ever since he had been turned. It was a lonely building that stood high but was in no way dignified. He opened the door that squeaked slightly on its hinges.
The squeak was like a scream in the silent night, it put every nerve in his body on edge. There was no one around and the night seemed to envelop him. He had never told any of the children in the orphanage, but he was afraid of the dark. Whenever he was abused, it was always in the dark.
He was stripped of all clothing and beaten with a whip, they always avoided the face and lower limbs. Those were hard to cover up, especially because Mika loved to wear short sleeves and shorts. His body still bore some of the scars that he 'earned'. His body had once born the bruises of boots that had dug into his skin, damaging the muscles.
In that time he had learned how to smile. He learned that if you couldn't smile when times were at their worst, you were never going to become strong. He needed to smile more, and laugh at despair. So that is what he did. And he made it so much of a habit that no one would ever see through his lie. He learned how to make it so convincing that no one would ever question his happiness. But after that night. After the night that everything was taken from him, he found he couldn't smile anymore. He couldn't make the muscles pull in that specific way to make a pleasant face.
He entered his empty home that smelled of musk and dust. He hated the room, but he would never change it. It was empty except for the essentials. Of the essentials that were there, he never used them. He could move at any point he wanted to, and then die of starvation soon afterward.
But he had been working on a solution to that. He made his way to a secluded bookshelf-something that had come with the house and opened the top cover of the top book of a specific stack-something that had not come with the house and grabbed the most dated vials of Krul's blood. He had been doing this for awhile. The blood never really went bad and vampires couldn't get sick, so if it did get bad, it didn't affect him. He placed the newest vials in the place opposite of the ones he had just removed. and smiled in satisfaction. He had close to one-hundred vials now.
He could make his grand escape anytime he wanted. But something held him back. You don't deserve to run free. Mika jumped at the sound, no one was in his house, he would be able to smell them if there was. He listened closely, there was no sound of breathing or anything otherwise, no heartbeat, nothing. Maybe he had imagined the voice. Why do you get to run free and live while everyone else only grows cold?
Mika spun at the sound of the voice, searching, searching for the voice. "Who's there?"
Come on now, Mika-kun, don't you remember me? Don't you remember my voice?
The voice was right, Mika did recognize it. He knew it, from somewhere.
Don't you remember us? The voice multiplied, there were more now, voices layered on top of each other. All speaking in unison. They all sounded familiar in the same way, from the same place. He turned several corners and there, there standing in the doorway of his home were people that he never thought he would see again.
"A-Akane." He reached his arm towards her and the other children, but they all ran, shying away from his touch. You think we would want you to touch us? You who now bear the fangs of the ones that hurt us. You who now take the form of one who killed us. We hate you. We hate you for all that you are. There's a filth that covers you. You are no longer one of us.
Mika watched in horror as Akane pulled a whip out from her back. His vision blackened and all he could focus on was the whip and Akane. Akane and the whip. He could feel his chest tighten. A pain beginning in the center of his torso. He felt his breaths quicken and his breath became restricted, he wasn't going to make it much longer. He was going to pass out soon. His body had already become heavy and weighted, dragging him down to the floor, no matter how much he leaned on the wall.
Akane smiled as she unraveled the whip. Once it was at its full length, she brandished it between her hands. She drew back and struck with the whip. Once. Twice. Thrice. He felt an old pain re-awaken with each strike, growing more and more intense. He cried out, knowing that people could probably hear him, but no one would ever come for him, no one would ever come for a filthy half-blood.
After so many strikes that he couldn't feel anymore, she and the other orphans disappeared, leaving him a sobbing mess on the floor. Alone and in the dark.
Yuuichirou woke up from his 'short' nap knowing that he had overslept once more. He glanced around his room, which was surprisingly clean, no one ever expected it to be clean, but clean it always was, and clean it always will be. He made his way to his closet, which held the uniform that he was so proud of earning. Donning the outfit, correctly this time, he went out into the night, following the insistence of his growling stomach.
Once he reached the make-shift kitchen, he knew that he was going to end up setting fire to something, probably himself. He sighed heavily, knowing that as soon as there was smoke, there would be people to see him fail utterly at cooking, so instead, he stuck with the already prepared meals that the army provided. It tasted disgusting, but it was better than the embarrassment and the death that Guren would eventually administer, most likely personally.
Once he was finished, he quickly made his way back to his room, the chilled air making his breath go up in short puffs. But at the last second, he decided not to go into his room, instead, he kept on going. Making his way to a stairwell, he slowly ascended. When he finally arrived at his destination, he realized that he probably should have gone to his room for a blanket or something. The wind was stronger up here, as there was nothing to break its force before it buffered him.
On the roof, he laid down, spread eagle and stared up at the night sky. He had done this so many times in the past, but none of them had been very recent. He felt if he turned his head slightly to the right, he would see beautiful blue eyes staring at him. Almost wishing it were true, he looked to the right and actually emdid/em see beautiful blue eyes staring at him.
Yuu sighed deeply, "Bug off Asuramaru, I don't need you right now."
The image of Mika quickly morphed into the demon that he knew all too well. "Awe, but Yuuichirou, it's no fun if you don't play along a bit, and you just turned your head so perfectly that I couldn't help it."
"Yeah, well it is getting a little old, I can't play along if you make it so obvious, then it's just boring. Wait, crap if you're here, that means I fell asleep on the roof. Man, do you know how cold I'm gonna be?"
"It's not my fault where you fall asleep and where you don't. I just use what is given to me, and I'm sorry, next time I won't make it so obvious.
Sighing, Yuu tried to rouse his body from sleep, Why did I even fall asleep? I just woke up from quite a long nap, and I don't remember being particularly tired when I came up here, I just wanted to look at the stars like I used to with Mika.
Finally, he succeeded, rousing his body enough to open his eyes, his real eyes and make his way back down to his room. Once there, he quickly covered himself in as many blankets as he could muster, trying to trap that body heat that was all escaping into the night.
He looked around his mostly barren room, there were his extra uniforms in the closet and some random clothes that he could throw on if he needed something a little more comfortable. There was the bed, that he was currently sitting on that wasn't the most comfortable of beds, but it was better than the cold hard ground.
And in the corner, there was a desk, and on that desk, there was a single item. There was a dark, wooden gun with gold decorations detailing the grip. It was the most useless thing in his room, he couldn't kill vampires with it, and Guren would kill him if he ever tried to come near anyone with a gun and the intention to kill. Now it was purely a memento of the most harm he had ever caused Ferid. He was reminded of the one night that he had pulled the trigger, once more.
I promise, Mika. I promise that I will wipe out every single last blood-sucker for what they did to our lives. I will avenge everyone. And after that, I will see your smiling face again, not an illusion from Asuramaru, but the real you. I'll make you smile again.
I promise.