[ShouxHiroto] RUMWOLF [Track 20: Captures and Pawns]
TITLE: RUMWOLF
CHAPTER: 20
RATING: R (Overall Story)
GENRE: AU; Romance (BL), Drama&Comedy, Action/Adventure, slight Supernatural/Paranormal
PAIRINGS: ShouxHiroto, previous/mentions of Hirotox??, implied/hinted ToraxSaga
BAND: Alice Nine
SIDE BANDS: the GazettE, Danger Gang, SuG, Dir en Grey
CAMEOS: N/A (Ch. 20)
SUMMARY: Four years ago, there was an accident affecting two entirely different worlds of two individuals. This accident led Ogata Hiroto to grow into a jaded young adult who becomes entangled in the dark, cold world of a nightlife he never expected to lead in order to fulfill his personal ambitions. One fateful day, on a morning walk with his pet Pomeranian, Mogu, he meets a young man who calls himself Shou. Will Hiroto's four years of hard work and effort to reach his goal be thrown away to waste or will it finally be rewarded through this meeting?
WARNINGS: Intimate actions between men, sexual references, language, violence, racing, mentions of heavy chain-smoking and alcohol abuse...err, I don't think that's the end.
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Prologue // 01 // 02 // 03 // 04 // 05 // 06 // 07 // 08 // 09 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // Interlude // 16 // 17 // 18 // 19
Track 20: Captures and Pawns
Hiroto woke up at four in the morning as usual. The blonde slinked out of his cold bed but immediately regretted his actions as soon as his feet made contact with the icy floor. It seemed to be even colder than usual. His half-lidded eyes -- heavy with the remains of sleep -- roamed about his bedroom, noting how Shou had cleaned up his diva-like mess and how Mogu was still asleep, before he lumbered over to his closet to pull out a funnel-neck black jacket that was nearly two or three sizes too large for him, a white tank top with printed images of steel towers, and a pair of gray jeans.
The blonde dragged his feet over to his bathroom and washed his face -- hoping to get rid of the obvious signs of exhaustion but to no avail. A grunt rumbled from his throat -- discontent with his bedraggled appearance. He appeared to have been dragged to the Gates of Hell and back. After brushing his teeth, he changed into his day clothes, fastening his oversized pants with a belt, and then proceeded to tame his bed-tossed hair with a comb, hairspray, and hair wax. Emerging victorious from the battle with his bedhead, he continued to outline his eyes lightly with black eyeliner. After lining his wrists with bracelets and his fingers with rings, Hiroto's eyes caught sight of a foreign object in his ear.
It was the earring Shou had given him.
He hadn't really noticed it before this moment. Well, he didn't have the chance to look at a mirror other than when he was racing, and that was only when he had to check what was behind him and how far it was behind him. (You couldn't possibly admire yourself in the dark and drive at the same time. Hiroto has always found that impossible despite his racing talent.) He had to give Shou his props though. The brunet really knew how to pick out his clothes. His mother must have been furious when she learned that she couldn't dress him anymore at the early age of three, Hiroto thought to himself dryly.
That was when the previous night's events dawned upon Hiroto's features.
His reaction, even if it was understandable, was rather uncalled for.
He had to apologize to Shou.
He hurriedly ran out of the bathroom, forgetting to toss his dirty laundry into the hamper, and into the living room. He nearly slipped over his feet during his clumsy, frantic scramble but managed to regain his balance...although he was thrown onto the sectional, near Shou's face. The blonde's eyes absorbed Shou's resting features -- eyelids gently closed, chest gently heaving up and down, and body gently trembling...
Hiroto frowned to himself. Shou, the idiot, forgot to get a blanket. It was cold out in the living room, colder than his own bedroom, and one could easily become sick if not cautious. Hiroto trekked to the small storage space in the hall, opening it up and pulling out a thick quilt. He returned to Shou's side and draped it over his taller frame as softly as he could without waking up the older man.
His lips pursed together once he noticed the slightly contorted expression on Shou's visage. It was almost as if he was in pain. The blonde reached out for him, grasping Shou's arm lightly, and then rested his forehead against Shou's as if his nightmares would be passed onto Hiroto, as if he would be relieved of his agony. However, a mental transfer did not occur although Shou's features did soften into something more serene than earlier. Hiroto smiled, feeling a bit proud of his accomplishment, before he jumped onto his feet. The young man tiptoed over to the kitchen and quietly opened the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of Starbucks coffee and then left his apartment after stuffing his pockets with his keys, wallet, and phone.
That morning, Hiroto didn't speed through the mountains. Instead, he decided to take a detour to the river, where he simply sat and stared at the clouds above his head until his neck hurt. That was when he decided it would be easier to cloud gaze if he laid down on his back, and he did so. It was different from what he would usually do, but it was a nice change of pace. Even if the clouds moved at a snail's pace, Hiroto found that his thoughts wouldn't become so jumbled and slurred this way. Instead, he was able to think more casually, more freely.
He needed to speak with Aki and their grandfather. He needed to know why they -- his whole entire family -- have kept silent about his father for so long since his mother couldn't speak in her coma. That was the first thing he had to do.
He needed to end things with RUMWOLF -- or, at the very least, set his standards. He didn't need to race night after night constantly anymore now that time has played a cruel joke with him. Hiroto no longer had a goal to reach. That was the second thing he had to do.
He needed to make amends with Saga, Tora, and Nao. He didn't need to keep them out of his life anymore now that he was resurfacing. He would try his best to leave the underground world. That was the third thing he had to do.
He needed to start a new life with Shou. Since he didn't have a need for racing anymore, he could pick up his guitar again, and he could compliment Shou's singing and lyrics all he wanted. Since he most likely wouldn't be with RUMWOLF anymore, he didn't have to worry about Shou being dragged under. That was the fourth thing he had to do.
Above all, he still had to apologize to Shou.
After listing his new goals, Hiroto jumped back onto his feet and drove back to his apartment. He parked his car in the garage, rode the elevator to the third floor, and found himself frozen in his steps the moment he stepped past the elevator doors and around the corner -- arriving in the corridor leading to his apartment.
The time was forty minutes past seven. Mogu had been fed without a problem, and Shou was being manhandled by large, muscular men wearing black suits and sunglasses.
Hiroto stormed towards the men and swung a fist towards one of the much stronger men although he was sure it wouldn't do any good. Compared to them, Hiroto was a stick. Nevertheless, his mentality had been overwhelmed with a blind rage. He wasn't sure what was going on, and he didn't give much of a damn. The scene in front of the blonde was enough to set off his alarms and enrage him. Nobody would harm Shou. Nothing would harm Shou.
Unfortunately, the angry fist he had thrown was futile. The man he had punched barely flinched when his curled fingers crashed into the side of his arm. Hiroto, on the other hand, was momentarily paralyzed. His knuckles stung. It really stung. It was as if electricity was shooting up his arm, overloading his nerves and frying his senses. Hiroto wanted to cry out at the pain, but he refused to. He couldn't show any weakness to these pieces of shit.
"Let go of him!" Hiroto shrieked and used his legs as a weapon this time. Hiroto was confident in his legs. They had the muscles his arms didn't from all of the running he did and all of the climbing up stairs. He attempted to roundhouse the nearest man, a man who held a struggling Shou, only to have his leg caught and to have his body flipped over the man's shoulder like a ragdoll.
"Hiroto!"
"You dirty motherfuckers, let him go!" Hiroto cried as he attempted to push himself off of the ground. He was able to raise his head only to find Shou's body still and motionless. The brunet had surrendered himself. Never before had Hiroto seen Shou so oppressed. "Shou, what's wrong?! What's going on?! Who are these guys?!" He thought back to Masashi's story and cursed. What if they were the kidnappers from four years ago trying to finish what they've started?
Shou looked away from Hiroto, as if to hide his shame, and the blonde felt his heart shatter into pieces like broken glass. "Look at me," he wanted to say. "Why won't you look at me?" he wanted to ask. However, no words would leave his lips, and Hiroto was left waiting for Shou's explanation.
"They're my father's men," the older man told his roommate. "They've come to take me away, and if it means that you won't get hurt, I'll leave. I told myself that I would protect you a long time ago."
"Don't go!" Hiroto blurted out with distraught eyes. Again, he pleaded, "Don't go!" He felt his eyes itch with a sort of watery warmth. He couldn't seem to think of any other words to say. All that was on his mind was simply that he needed to stop Shou from leaving. "Don't go, Shou! I need you!"
That's right, Hiroto thought to himself. It doesn't matter why I fell in love with him, how I fell in love with him, where I fell in love with him, and when I fell in love with him. The truth is clear as day: I love him, I want him, and I need him.
"Don't go!" Hiroto begged as he brought himself to stand -- although rather shakily -- on his legs. He staggered and stumbled in his steps as he approached Shou, who was being escorted towards the direction of the elevator. Hiroto managed to catch hold of the sleeve of Shou's jacket. "Don't go... Please, I'm begging you. I want to make music together. I want to eat meals together. I want to play games together. I want to be by your side, Shou... It's lonely without you here." He kept his head bowed down, so the other men wouldn't see the tears streaming down his cheeks, dripping from his chin, and crashing onto the floor like the glass fragments of his heart.
"I'm sorry, Hiroto. I'll keep throwing you in danger if you stay with me in these circumstances," Shou whispered. "I'm dangerous, but I don't want to harm you. Do you understand?"
"You're claustrophobic," Hiroto mentioned as he shook his head weakly. The tears took away too much of his energy, and the younger man absolutely hated being seen like this. Nevertheless, he brought himself to continue to speak in spite of his trembling form. "You're going into an elevator."
Although Hiroto couldn't see it, Shou smiled bitterly. "I'd rather die than leave you like this," he said.
"I don't want you to die."
"Neither do I," Shou responded as calmly as he could. "I don't ever want you to die, Hiroto. You better drive carefully from now on since you won't get any more good luck charms. Thank you, Hiroto -- for the room, the clothes, the job, the blanket this morning -- for everything. I had a really good time."
"Don't go."
Hiroto grimaced as someone shoved him away from the brunet. He raised his head and found a middle-aged woman with dark hair glowering down upon him with hawk-like eyes. Her eyes -- without a doubt -- were sharp, and they dug themselves deeper into Hiroto's flesh as her glare grew sharper and sharper -- growing more and more malicious. It hurt, but Hiroto wouldn't show her that he was weak. He glared back at her, but she wasn't the least bit intimidated.
"Filth," she spat on him, kicking him back. "Don't you dare follow us." With that, she pivoted on her six-inch high heels, leaving Hiroto's head to hit against the wall. He could feel something warm seep from the back of his scalp.
"Hiroto!" Shou cried out. "Don't hurt him, you damned, ungrateful bitch! I already agreed to your fucking terms!" That was when he struggled from the men's hold, violently and furiously, breaking out of their grasp. He ran over to Hiroto's side and picked him up, cradling him like a newborn with tear filled eyes. He kept mouthing the same thing over and over again.
"Sorry, Hiroto... I'm so sorry."
"I should be apologizing, you dumbass," Hiroto grumbled with the last of his strength.
The last thing he saw was Shou being dragged to the elevator, but his limp body couldn't do anything.
&&
"You sure like visiting the hospital, don't you?" Saga mused from the side of Hiroto's bed. The blonde merely stared forward, avoiding the gazes of the three at his bedside. He heard Nao call out for him softly, asking if he was alright, and he heard Tora shuffling in his pockets for a cigarette nearby the open window.
"This is a non-smoking room," Hiroto told the older dark haired man. "If you want to smoke, leave."
Tora raised an eyebrow. "You never used to be so fussy about smoking," he commented. Hiroto didn't respond. He wasn't fussy about smoking. He could care less about smoking and cigarettes, but he knew Shou cared. Hiroto didn't want Shou's efforts to get him to stop his bad habits to be left in vain.
"Teru-san found you on the floor, bleeding," Saga informed. "He called an ambulance and had you taken here. What happened?"
"Where's Mogu? Where's my baby?" Hiroto snapped. It was clear to Hiroto that Teru was a rule follower after being acquainted for four years. There was no way Mogu was in the hospital with the three men right now.
"Teru-san is taking care of him," Tora answered.
"Now tell me what happened," Saga demanded.
"I want to see my mom," Hiroto stated, brushing aside Saga's words as if they were merely dust -- insignificant.
"Hiroto, you should lie down and rest," Nao coaxed, but he was also easily ignored.
A cry of protest left Nao's throat as Hiroto yanked the IV drip from his arm and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When Saga and Tora attempted to push him back into bed, Hiroto broke through their barricade with little difficulties. He slammed open the door and stormed down the halls. Saga, Tora, and Nao scrambled behind him, begging him to stop just like the nurses in his way. Finally, he made it to his mother's room although he was breathing heavily. He stood outside her door in calm his breathing before entering.
"Hiro-chan... What are you doing here in a hospital gown?"
A weak smile crawled onto Hiroto's lips sluggishly.
"Perfect timing, Gramps."
&&
Kazumasa rested in his room but was too afraid to sleep, to rest. If he closed his eyes, he was afraid that he would be tormented by flashbacks of his kidnapping four years ago just like his nightmare from last night. Thus, he was surrounded by nothing but mountains of books. He enjoyed reading, and it often calmed him down. However, nothing could pacify the rage he felt boiling within his being. Even if he didn't sleep, even if he wasn't tortured by flashbacks, he was still being plagued by the events that had occurred earlier. The image of Hiroto's limp body, the image of Hiroto being thrown like a ragdoll, and the image of Hiroto being kicked away like a broken toy all haunted his memories. He felt his heart being stabbed over and over again as he recalled Hiroto's tears, the tears he had cried for him.
He was a liar, and yet Hiroto wanted him to stay by his side. He was a liar, and yet he himself wanted to stay by Hiroto's side. He was a liar, and yet he clung hopelessly onto the silver key in the palm of his hands. It was the silver key that gave him access to Hiroto's apartment, the place he came to call "home."
Kazumasa felt his teeth grinding, his jaw clenching, at how useless he was. He really couldn't do anything right, could he? The built-up frustration knocked over his pile of books that he had finished within mere hours, hours that have been wasted as his father -- or, rather, their butler since his father couldn't be bothered with the matter -- worked out the kinks in his planned house arrest. Kazumasa was locked up in his room, only allowed to step out for a single hour for a breath of fresh air accompanied by a pair of guards. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner was to be served and eaten in his room. Clothes and other neccessities were to be delivered to him.
Once again, he found himself as his father's puppet, his mother's doll, and the company's plaything.
Worst of all, he wasn't allowed to see Hiroto anymore.
Kazumasa couldn't escape without help this time. He knew this much. Guards were stationed 24/7 around his room and around every corner and every corridor. Getaway vehicles were prepared to put up a chase, and nobody was allowed to accept food or any presents Kazumasa offered. It would take days to figure out how to slip out considering he had hardly any tools in his room. His laptop was confiscated, and the phone Hiroto had bought for him was thrown away by his father himself. He had no connection to the outside world.
After roaming around his large, empty bedroom room, he collapsed onto his bed. His room was very much unlike Hiroto's apartment but similar in atmosphere. Although it was more or the same total size of Hiroto's apartment, it was styled in a traditional Japanese fashion. The door was fabricated to appear as paper sliding doors, but Kazumasa knew they had to be at least eight centimeters thick -- probably fifteen or sixteen centimeters at the most. The walls of his room were just as thick -- if not more -- and the top half of his walls were painted ivory while the other half was covered by strips of bamboo. Modern-styled shelves and desks were located at one side of his room, near the glass sliding doors that were covered by curtains of jaded beads, creating his personal library. Located far away from his library was a large bed with a canopy hovering above it.
The room itself, despite all of its luxuries, was empty though. It was cold. It was lifeless -- just like Hiroto's room. Kazumasa sighed through his nose as his fingers toyed with the necklace around his neck. He pictured his last night as Hiroto's roommate on Hiroto's bed with Hiroto, dreaming of ever-lasting happiness that existed only within the comfort of his mind. Instead, he fell asleep on the sofa, too afraid to meet Hiroto's gaze, and dreamt of a world where Hiroto didn't need him. After all, Kazumasa had only brought trouble to his parents -- to his family, actually -- without ever meeting them.
It was needless to say that Kazumasa was surprised when Hiroto had attempted to fight off the guards that captured him. In a way, it made him happy, but he immediately felt dread and horror as he watched Hiroto being beaten effortlessly. Although Hiroto put up a strong front, Kazumasa was confident that it was only a defense, a barrier. The blonde couldn't possibly harm anyone intentionally. His frame, although lean, was small and petite, and sometimes Hiroto just appeared as though you'd be able to crush him with a single hug.
That was why Kazumasa felt like dying. Hiroto was being played with that morning. The guards had merely tossed him around like he was a china doll: nothing tedious to lift or break. He could still feel Hiroto's warm blood seep onto the skin of his hand.
...yet he was grateful. If his father had known about their romantic feelings for each other, Hiroto would have truly been a target instead of an obstacle for the guards to neglect. All he hoped for was that Hiroto was okay...but Hiroto was stubborn. Hiroto wouldn't die. He had to believe in that. He had to believe in Hiroto. After all, he was the one who said that he had a future he wanted to live with Hiroto. The blonde was the only one who gave him a dream.
For now, Kazumasa held onto that silver key and that one shred of hope... For now.
&&
A/N: It doesn't look like things are getting better, does it now? No worries. I'm a sucker for happy endings. A happy ending would be nice, wouldn't it? Too bad life isn't all rainbows and pink, fluffy unicorns. Anyways, with Track 20 marks the beginning of the third and final arc. We're approaching the end now. There's only thirty chapters including the prologue and epilogue.
Since we're approaching the ending, I've been thinking about a new story. I was wondering about tackling ToraxSaga and full-out paranormal/fantasy in one go. If you know me as well as I do, I'm not very talented with either one. That shall be interesting.
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