Fanfiction
Title: In the Eye of the Viewfinder
Characters: Ritsuka, Soubi and others
Rating: T
Summary: Twenty-one-year-old Ritsuka works as a photographer. Sometimes, he does a scoop for the police with his friend, Keita, despite his fighter's protests. One day, they get the scoop of their lives: nailing one of the most dangerous yakuza in Japan.
...
Addictions
...
Keita jumped as if burnt.
- Brother? - he whispered - Brother! He's your brother? - he turned to Ritsuka, eyes full of bitter betrayal.
- Keita, I had no idea, I swear… - Ritsuka started but Nisei cut in.
- That he's your brother?
Ritsuka wished to punch that grinning face, only attacking a fighter wasn't such a bright idea.
Instead, he ignored him with dignity. He had a more pressing matter to address than bickering with Akame.
- Please, listen - he took a step towards Keita, but his friend backed away - I didn't know he's Iskandar, believe me. I only found out at the docks…
- Yeah, sure - Keita snorted - The hell you did. Gods - he sighed - How could I be so stupid… I seriously thought you're so brave standing up to that guy, while in fact, you're friends…
- I'm not his friend! - both Ritsuka and Nisei cried out outraged, the same dismayed expressions on their faces.
Seimei hid a snicker behind his hand. Children.
Keita blinked at that passionate exclamation, so Ritsuka quickly added.
- That's the third time I've met him in my whole life.
- Three times too many - Nisei folded his arms.
Ritsuka pretended he hadn't heard him.
- The first time, he tried to kill me, quite amateurishly, and fucked with my mind. The second time, he tried to fuck with my mind and almost killed me.
Keita still didn't look convinced, taking nervous peeks at his friend and the yakuza in question.
- Now, he's already played his sick games on me so I expect him to attempt to kill me any minute - Ritsuka snapped at Nisei rather than explain it to Keita.
- How cruel, Rit-chan - Nisei pouted - To simplify my complex characteristic like that. He now thinks I'm some primitive psicópata.
Not the one to let others leave him out of their conversation, Seimei spoke up.
- You are.
- Verdad, but I'm not stupid!
If Keita could have backed away more, he would have done it. He had noticed that Akame's erratic behaviour wasn't an act before, but he didn't like his theory confirmed that way. Besides, he wasn't all that sure he believed Ritsuka's version. He seemed rather comfortable in Iskandar and Akame's company, ready to start endless banters, his posture relaxed and eyes shining.
- How could you not know he's your brother? - he demanded once more in an urgent whisper.
- I haven't seen him for five years. He was the one who ordered Nisei to try to kill me last time - Ritsuka's mouth twitched.
Keita was stunned. Order? To kill his own brother?
- I didn't technically "order him" - Seimei's smooth voice pierced the air.
- You didn't forbid him either! - Ritsuka's ears flattened - Wait, how did you put it then? Oh, I remember - his toned was dripping with sarcasm - You "gave him a free hand".
- It hardly means I let him kill you - Seimei smirked.
If that was how he normally acted, Ritsuka could understand why everyone claimed to hate his brother.
- Because it was so difficult to guess what he's going to do - he rolled his eyes.
Seimei's eye twitched. He didn't like people implying he couldn't predict something.
- Dear brother, you always say I'm too strict - he smiled dangerously - I simply followed your advice and took the leash off for a moment.
Here we go again.
- It's the owner's fault when the dog bites - he gritted his teeth.
Seimei yawned theatrically.
- If you're going to list my sins now, please excuse me, but I have work. Nisei will replace me, he loves hearing what I've done wrong - he turned his back on Ritsuka, whose tail went unnaturally stiff.
Keita glanced at Akame despite himself. He actually did look eager. Gods in heaven, what pack of sickos was in that room? Ritsuka wasn't behaving too sanely either, whether he realised it or not.
...
As soon as Soubi paid for the shopping (he rationalised that the fact Ritsuka had decided to lie didn't necessarily mean he was in grave danger) he took out a mobile and pondered what to do.
If he called and Ritsuka was busy, or worse, he was just hanging out with Keita and his colleagues, he'd be irritated that Soubi was interrupting him. If Ritsuka was indeed on a job, he'd be furious with him that he was disturbing the ceremony or preventing him from taking a photo of a bride.
Finally, he came to a conclusion that Ritsuka would have probably switched off his mobile if he was at a wedding, so he could call without worries.
...
Ritsuka felt his mobile starting to vibrate in his pocket. Probably Soubi.
Trying to appear to be merely pissed off with his buffoon of a brother, he measured the distance between himself and Nisei (Seimei wouldn't bother to physically stop him, but the fighter would) and deemed it worth to take his chance with answering.
Gods were on his side, because Nisei bent down to pick up a glass from Seimei's desk. He chose that moment to fish out his mobile.
Soubi.
He pressed the button, palm sweaty.
Nisei's head shot up. Black eyes narrowed, white canines flashed.
- Help - Ritsuka managed to choke out before the fighter was on him.
Fury radiating from his entire being, Nisei had Ritsuka in a headlock and snatched the mobile from his hand, disconnecting. All Ritsuka managed to do was gasp.
...
Soubi's heart stilled when he heard that faint call for help. He'd known, he'd simply known something was amiss.
- Ritsuka, where…
There was a short distressed sound and the line went dead.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit the fighter and he had to lean on a wall for support. With shaking fingers, he dialled the number once again, but Ritsuka's mobile had been already switched off. A wile bile blocked his throat.
He'd lost him, he'd lost his Sacrifice, his precious Ritsuka. He'd let him go alone. It didn't matter Ritsuka hadn't informed him about his plans, or rather had lied about them. It was a fighter's duty to protect, despite everything.
He'd failed.
...
The dark fighter threw the offending device to Seimei, who caught it gracefully. His perfect features were marred with displeasure.
Keita overcame his fear for the sake of his best friend and jumped at Nisei, pulling his arm to free Ritsuka. Somewhere at the back of his mind he realised that it wasn't normal for such a frail man to be that strong.
Soon Nisei had enough of his piteous attempts and disposed of his with one swift kick that sent Keita to the ground.
- Release him.
Nisei pushed Ritsuka away and the boy landed near his friend, sputtering and massaging his windpipe.
- I told you it wasn't wise to bring them here - the fighter's lips twisted - Yet you insisted. You got us in avoidable trouble once *again*.
Seimei stood up.
- You forget your place.
Nisei straightened up, his posture challenging. He knew when he was right and damn him if he backed down.
- Besides - Seimei smiled, purposely depriving his fighter of an entertaining argument - Nothing's happened. He said "help", not the address.
Nisei huffed, turning on his heels and kicking a nearby chair to express his general frustration.
Conscious of what's going on, Ritsuka helped Keita to his feet, squeezing his arm in gratitude. His friend must have forgiven him his ties with Seimei if he'd decided to aid him.
Pity it was Nisei he'd wanted to help him with.
Speaking about the fighter, it'd been quite unexpected of him to actually restrain Ritsuka the way he had. Still clutching Keita's arm, Ritsuka replayed the entire situation in his head. When Nisei had noticed him answering a call it'd been too late to prevent him from asking for help, because even with his reflexes, Nisei had had no chance of reaching him before he'd uttered a word. Plus, he'd known the fighter long enough to be aware that despite his thuggish behaviour, Nisei was never keen on using his fists. In fact, he couldn't recall a situation in which the Beloved fighter had punched someone rather than had cast a spell. Nisei always relayed on his power, he probably used it far more often than any other fighter. Yet, he hadn't stopped Ritsuka with a spell.
That suggested two immediate options: either Nisei hadn't wanted Keita to see him using magic (Nisei rarely bothered to expand the system) or he hadn't really wished to hurt Ritsuka (the less probable reason, but then, it was true that the fighter's spells were more damaging than his fists).
If the first option was correct, it meant Nisei was sure that Ritsuka wouldn't say "Beloved" or some other more informative word instead of "help". He wasn't a guy to take unnecessary risks, despite all appearances.
He was shook out of his musings by his brother's quiet chuckles.
- My, my, I underestimated you - his voice sounded almost amused. Almost - To pull off a stunt like this in front of me… Such courage. Impressive to a coward like me.
Ritsuka scowled. He didn't like Seimei's sly eyes one bit. As well as Nisei's mocking smirk.
- Surprising you still keep him - the older Aoyagi continued - But I admit, such obedience can be addictive.
Ritsuka's fists clenched. How he wished to break that expensive-looking laptop on his brother's head. And strangle Nisei with the cable.
- I love him.
Nisei yawned.
- So I've heard - Seimei replied politely - Several times.
- As in "several times too many" - Nisei grinned.
How could this guy change from predatorily-threatening to jokingly-sociable in a second?
The young photographer expected his brother to sternly reprimand the fighter. The scolding never came.
- Exactly - Seimei sent Ritsuka and Keita a wide smile - Love. Just another addiction.
- One you don't feel the need to indulge in?
- Oh no. I have cigarettes - Iskandar shook a pack of them at his brother.
The photographers exchanged glances.
- Not afraid of diseases? - Ritsuka taunted dryly, remembering Seimei's unreasonable fear of catching something.
The man leant back in his rotating chair, crossing his long legs at ankles.
- Scared like hell. Constantly. But Ritsuka - his expression changed to a troubled one - Be a little more understanding to your brother. I wasn't gifted with a strong will and unyielding morality like you. I've always been such a weak person, so prone to addictions. I'm a junkie, I've been one for such a long time - he drawled, looking at Ritsuka from underneath his curly fringe, his glasses sliding down to the very end of his nose - I need my daily fix of nicotine, of power, of people's fear. I need a fix of challenge, of expanding mu authority - the corners of his perfect mouth twitched - I'm not immune to pleasure, to the most basic of instincts…
He hooked his slender finger through a loop of Nisei's jeans, making it clear what kind of pleasure he meant.
Ritsuka wasn't surprised at all, but he could tell Keita was finding this show disturbing. After all, it wasn't common to see a person treating their supposed "lover" in such a degrading manner. Besides, throughout this whole little speech, an aura of unspoken danger was practically radiating from Seimei, swallowing every unfortunate soul in the room.
The younger Aoyagi began to wonder when exactly his brother had acquired that decadent attitude, that air of a exalted genius looking for a constant stimulation, ready to literally shoot holes in a wall out of boredom. He'd been like that when Ritsuka had seen him when Seimei had been twenty-one, when the brothers had crossed their paths soon after Beloved had returned from Europe. In the five years they hadn't heard about each other after the Septimal Moon incident, Seimei had drastically changed. Ritsuka remembered his bewilderment at seeing Seimei smoking and his brother's lazy reply that it'd been "recreational".
- But I bet even a hero like Rit-chan has his weaker moments - Nisei smirked, arrogant again after catching his owner's attention.
- If you call love a weakness.
Nisei actually frowned.
- Everything can be our weakness if we allow it to become one.
Ritsuka blinked.
Seimei, on the other hand, smacked the fighter's backside.
- Philosopher - he snorted - Save that for my court speeches. I don't want mere photographers to think Iskandar is sentimental.
Nisei nodded, pleased with himself.
Ritsuka was slowly getting furious with Seimei's offensive nonchalance.
- What's with that Iskandar crap? - he hissed - Couldn't you have thought of something more sensible?
Seimei gave him a look Ritsuka could guarantee he reserved for the most hopeless cases of chronic idiocy.
- Right - he inspected his pen - I should have chosen Beloved and got arrested the following morning?
Ritsuka took a deep breath to answer, but Seimei carried on.
- I've antagonised or will antagonise about 80% of the fighting units in this country, so I believe that it's highly likely one of them would be willing to take revenge on me by reporting me to the police. Besides, a yakuza with a nickname "Beloved" seems hardly threatening, don't you think?
Ritsuka thought that neither did a fighting pair with that name, but he'd rather leave this room in one piece, preferably one unharmed piece.
- Still, this one… - he insisted.
- Have you even checked it up?
Ritsuka blushed despite himself.
- So I thought.
- What a professional journalist, Rit-chan - Nisei giggled coming to pat Ritsuka's shoulder - You're gonna make it big one day.
- Oh, fuck off - the boy sent the older man a vicious glare - Anyway, what does it mean? Big and scary?
Seimei chuckled indulgently, while Nisei put a hand on his hip.
- No, it means "defender of men" but you were pretty close.
- Who in their right mind would give this name to that egocentric bastard?
- Well, me.
- Scratch that "right mind" remark - Ritsuka sighed.
Nisei didn't seem to be bothered by the implication.
Keita was starting to doubt if any of the three men in this room would notice if he suddenly vanished. They were having the time of their lives, bickering like crazy.
Ritsuka rolled his violet eyes.
- Alright, why the "defender of men"? The only man he defends is himself.
Seimei was content with leaving it up to his fighter to explain. It was amusing.
Nisei gave him one look full of pure admiration and love-based devotion, then turned to Ritsuka.
- Doesn't he look like a king to you?
- Not really, but what's the point anyway?
It was Nisei's turn to roll his dark orbs.
- A short version for dummies: Iskandar is Persian for Alexander, I think the rest is obvious.
Of course, Nisei the history-lover. Just great. Alexander. Phew. Seimei did have an ego.
- He's Iskandar and I'm his Bagoas.
Seimei smiled, making Ritsuka think of a big satisfied cat.
- Yes. After all, he's still my slave. So, slave, what are we going to do with them?
Nisei's face lit up. It didn't have a nice effect.
- I'd say they know a little too much, wouldn't you, mi Amado?
- Definitely - Seimei's baritone had a cutting note to it.
Ritsuka shivered. He honestly didn't expect that sudden change of atmosphere. But one may never get too comfortable in a presence of two possible psychopaths.
He knew he could probably negotiate with them. Seimei, as he'd said himself, had a soft spot for him, in a memory of his obsessive love from his younger days and Nisei, frankly, had turned out to be far more reasonable than his sacrifice several times. If he gave them the right arguments, they'd let him go.
He glanced at Keita.
That was the problem. Not matter the arguments, they'd never let Keita get out alive. He'd learnt too much. He now knew their faces, their names and the address of the office. Truth to be told, despite Seimei's bad deeds, Ritsuka would never report him (he would never report Nisei either, because it'd hurt his brother too much, or at least that was what he tried to convince himself of), but Keita probably would.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He was desperately searching for a solution. He needed to get them out of here alive, but also prevent Keita from going to the police. He tried to find something in his memory, replaying all of the most disastrous activities he'd taken part in.
Suddenly, he felt something. It was like a touch. A warm, yet cooling touch.
Intrigued and a little bit scared (you could never be too careful in one room with Akame), he focused on it. It didn't feel nice to have a foreign presence in your own mind.
He almost cursed aloud when he realised what it was.
It was a link connecting him to Soubi.
...
The blonde fighter jerked up registering a nagging presence in his mind. He knew what it was immediately and almost cried out in joy. He finally was one with Ritsuka!
The link was going to lead him straight to his Sacrifice.
...
Soubi was coming to him.
Ritsuka glanced at Seimei, Nisei and then Keita. The first one would be pissed, the second ready to kill the blonde and the third scared shitless and probably without hope of living to see another day.
He had no doubts Soubi would fight.
Only he wondered if it was such a good idea after all.
...
Characters: Ritsuka, Soubi and others
Rating: T
Summary: Twenty-one-year-old Ritsuka works as a photographer. Sometimes, he does a scoop for the police with his friend, Keita, despite his fighter's protests. One day, they get the scoop of their lives: nailing one of the most dangerous yakuza in Japan.
...
Addictions
...
Keita jumped as if burnt.
- Brother? - he whispered - Brother! He's your brother? - he turned to Ritsuka, eyes full of bitter betrayal.
- Keita, I had no idea, I swear… - Ritsuka started but Nisei cut in.
- That he's your brother?
Ritsuka wished to punch that grinning face, only attacking a fighter wasn't such a bright idea.
Instead, he ignored him with dignity. He had a more pressing matter to address than bickering with Akame.
- Please, listen - he took a step towards Keita, but his friend backed away - I didn't know he's Iskandar, believe me. I only found out at the docks…
- Yeah, sure - Keita snorted - The hell you did. Gods - he sighed - How could I be so stupid… I seriously thought you're so brave standing up to that guy, while in fact, you're friends…
- I'm not his friend! - both Ritsuka and Nisei cried out outraged, the same dismayed expressions on their faces.
Seimei hid a snicker behind his hand. Children.
Keita blinked at that passionate exclamation, so Ritsuka quickly added.
- That's the third time I've met him in my whole life.
- Three times too many - Nisei folded his arms.
Ritsuka pretended he hadn't heard him.
- The first time, he tried to kill me, quite amateurishly, and fucked with my mind. The second time, he tried to fuck with my mind and almost killed me.
Keita still didn't look convinced, taking nervous peeks at his friend and the yakuza in question.
- Now, he's already played his sick games on me so I expect him to attempt to kill me any minute - Ritsuka snapped at Nisei rather than explain it to Keita.
- How cruel, Rit-chan - Nisei pouted - To simplify my complex characteristic like that. He now thinks I'm some primitive psicópata.
Not the one to let others leave him out of their conversation, Seimei spoke up.
- You are.
- Verdad, but I'm not stupid!
If Keita could have backed away more, he would have done it. He had noticed that Akame's erratic behaviour wasn't an act before, but he didn't like his theory confirmed that way. Besides, he wasn't all that sure he believed Ritsuka's version. He seemed rather comfortable in Iskandar and Akame's company, ready to start endless banters, his posture relaxed and eyes shining.
- How could you not know he's your brother? - he demanded once more in an urgent whisper.
- I haven't seen him for five years. He was the one who ordered Nisei to try to kill me last time - Ritsuka's mouth twitched.
Keita was stunned. Order? To kill his own brother?
- I didn't technically "order him" - Seimei's smooth voice pierced the air.
- You didn't forbid him either! - Ritsuka's ears flattened - Wait, how did you put it then? Oh, I remember - his toned was dripping with sarcasm - You "gave him a free hand".
- It hardly means I let him kill you - Seimei smirked.
If that was how he normally acted, Ritsuka could understand why everyone claimed to hate his brother.
- Because it was so difficult to guess what he's going to do - he rolled his eyes.
Seimei's eye twitched. He didn't like people implying he couldn't predict something.
- Dear brother, you always say I'm too strict - he smiled dangerously - I simply followed your advice and took the leash off for a moment.
Here we go again.
- It's the owner's fault when the dog bites - he gritted his teeth.
Seimei yawned theatrically.
- If you're going to list my sins now, please excuse me, but I have work. Nisei will replace me, he loves hearing what I've done wrong - he turned his back on Ritsuka, whose tail went unnaturally stiff.
Keita glanced at Akame despite himself. He actually did look eager. Gods in heaven, what pack of sickos was in that room? Ritsuka wasn't behaving too sanely either, whether he realised it or not.
...
As soon as Soubi paid for the shopping (he rationalised that the fact Ritsuka had decided to lie didn't necessarily mean he was in grave danger) he took out a mobile and pondered what to do.
If he called and Ritsuka was busy, or worse, he was just hanging out with Keita and his colleagues, he'd be irritated that Soubi was interrupting him. If Ritsuka was indeed on a job, he'd be furious with him that he was disturbing the ceremony or preventing him from taking a photo of a bride.
Finally, he came to a conclusion that Ritsuka would have probably switched off his mobile if he was at a wedding, so he could call without worries.
...
Ritsuka felt his mobile starting to vibrate in his pocket. Probably Soubi.
Trying to appear to be merely pissed off with his buffoon of a brother, he measured the distance between himself and Nisei (Seimei wouldn't bother to physically stop him, but the fighter would) and deemed it worth to take his chance with answering.
Gods were on his side, because Nisei bent down to pick up a glass from Seimei's desk. He chose that moment to fish out his mobile.
Soubi.
He pressed the button, palm sweaty.
Nisei's head shot up. Black eyes narrowed, white canines flashed.
- Help - Ritsuka managed to choke out before the fighter was on him.
Fury radiating from his entire being, Nisei had Ritsuka in a headlock and snatched the mobile from his hand, disconnecting. All Ritsuka managed to do was gasp.
...
Soubi's heart stilled when he heard that faint call for help. He'd known, he'd simply known something was amiss.
- Ritsuka, where…
There was a short distressed sound and the line went dead.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit the fighter and he had to lean on a wall for support. With shaking fingers, he dialled the number once again, but Ritsuka's mobile had been already switched off. A wile bile blocked his throat.
He'd lost him, he'd lost his Sacrifice, his precious Ritsuka. He'd let him go alone. It didn't matter Ritsuka hadn't informed him about his plans, or rather had lied about them. It was a fighter's duty to protect, despite everything.
He'd failed.
...
The dark fighter threw the offending device to Seimei, who caught it gracefully. His perfect features were marred with displeasure.
Keita overcame his fear for the sake of his best friend and jumped at Nisei, pulling his arm to free Ritsuka. Somewhere at the back of his mind he realised that it wasn't normal for such a frail man to be that strong.
Soon Nisei had enough of his piteous attempts and disposed of his with one swift kick that sent Keita to the ground.
- Release him.
Nisei pushed Ritsuka away and the boy landed near his friend, sputtering and massaging his windpipe.
- I told you it wasn't wise to bring them here - the fighter's lips twisted - Yet you insisted. You got us in avoidable trouble once *again*.
Seimei stood up.
- You forget your place.
Nisei straightened up, his posture challenging. He knew when he was right and damn him if he backed down.
- Besides - Seimei smiled, purposely depriving his fighter of an entertaining argument - Nothing's happened. He said "help", not the address.
Nisei huffed, turning on his heels and kicking a nearby chair to express his general frustration.
Conscious of what's going on, Ritsuka helped Keita to his feet, squeezing his arm in gratitude. His friend must have forgiven him his ties with Seimei if he'd decided to aid him.
Pity it was Nisei he'd wanted to help him with.
Speaking about the fighter, it'd been quite unexpected of him to actually restrain Ritsuka the way he had. Still clutching Keita's arm, Ritsuka replayed the entire situation in his head. When Nisei had noticed him answering a call it'd been too late to prevent him from asking for help, because even with his reflexes, Nisei had had no chance of reaching him before he'd uttered a word. Plus, he'd known the fighter long enough to be aware that despite his thuggish behaviour, Nisei was never keen on using his fists. In fact, he couldn't recall a situation in which the Beloved fighter had punched someone rather than had cast a spell. Nisei always relayed on his power, he probably used it far more often than any other fighter. Yet, he hadn't stopped Ritsuka with a spell.
That suggested two immediate options: either Nisei hadn't wanted Keita to see him using magic (Nisei rarely bothered to expand the system) or he hadn't really wished to hurt Ritsuka (the less probable reason, but then, it was true that the fighter's spells were more damaging than his fists).
If the first option was correct, it meant Nisei was sure that Ritsuka wouldn't say "Beloved" or some other more informative word instead of "help". He wasn't a guy to take unnecessary risks, despite all appearances.
He was shook out of his musings by his brother's quiet chuckles.
- My, my, I underestimated you - his voice sounded almost amused. Almost - To pull off a stunt like this in front of me… Such courage. Impressive to a coward like me.
Ritsuka scowled. He didn't like Seimei's sly eyes one bit. As well as Nisei's mocking smirk.
- Surprising you still keep him - the older Aoyagi continued - But I admit, such obedience can be addictive.
Ritsuka's fists clenched. How he wished to break that expensive-looking laptop on his brother's head. And strangle Nisei with the cable.
- I love him.
Nisei yawned.
- So I've heard - Seimei replied politely - Several times.
- As in "several times too many" - Nisei grinned.
How could this guy change from predatorily-threatening to jokingly-sociable in a second?
The young photographer expected his brother to sternly reprimand the fighter. The scolding never came.
- Exactly - Seimei sent Ritsuka and Keita a wide smile - Love. Just another addiction.
- One you don't feel the need to indulge in?
- Oh no. I have cigarettes - Iskandar shook a pack of them at his brother.
The photographers exchanged glances.
- Not afraid of diseases? - Ritsuka taunted dryly, remembering Seimei's unreasonable fear of catching something.
The man leant back in his rotating chair, crossing his long legs at ankles.
- Scared like hell. Constantly. But Ritsuka - his expression changed to a troubled one - Be a little more understanding to your brother. I wasn't gifted with a strong will and unyielding morality like you. I've always been such a weak person, so prone to addictions. I'm a junkie, I've been one for such a long time - he drawled, looking at Ritsuka from underneath his curly fringe, his glasses sliding down to the very end of his nose - I need my daily fix of nicotine, of power, of people's fear. I need a fix of challenge, of expanding mu authority - the corners of his perfect mouth twitched - I'm not immune to pleasure, to the most basic of instincts…
He hooked his slender finger through a loop of Nisei's jeans, making it clear what kind of pleasure he meant.
Ritsuka wasn't surprised at all, but he could tell Keita was finding this show disturbing. After all, it wasn't common to see a person treating their supposed "lover" in such a degrading manner. Besides, throughout this whole little speech, an aura of unspoken danger was practically radiating from Seimei, swallowing every unfortunate soul in the room.
The younger Aoyagi began to wonder when exactly his brother had acquired that decadent attitude, that air of a exalted genius looking for a constant stimulation, ready to literally shoot holes in a wall out of boredom. He'd been like that when Ritsuka had seen him when Seimei had been twenty-one, when the brothers had crossed their paths soon after Beloved had returned from Europe. In the five years they hadn't heard about each other after the Septimal Moon incident, Seimei had drastically changed. Ritsuka remembered his bewilderment at seeing Seimei smoking and his brother's lazy reply that it'd been "recreational".
- But I bet even a hero like Rit-chan has his weaker moments - Nisei smirked, arrogant again after catching his owner's attention.
- If you call love a weakness.
Nisei actually frowned.
- Everything can be our weakness if we allow it to become one.
Ritsuka blinked.
Seimei, on the other hand, smacked the fighter's backside.
- Philosopher - he snorted - Save that for my court speeches. I don't want mere photographers to think Iskandar is sentimental.
Nisei nodded, pleased with himself.
Ritsuka was slowly getting furious with Seimei's offensive nonchalance.
- What's with that Iskandar crap? - he hissed - Couldn't you have thought of something more sensible?
Seimei gave him a look Ritsuka could guarantee he reserved for the most hopeless cases of chronic idiocy.
- Right - he inspected his pen - I should have chosen Beloved and got arrested the following morning?
Ritsuka took a deep breath to answer, but Seimei carried on.
- I've antagonised or will antagonise about 80% of the fighting units in this country, so I believe that it's highly likely one of them would be willing to take revenge on me by reporting me to the police. Besides, a yakuza with a nickname "Beloved" seems hardly threatening, don't you think?
Ritsuka thought that neither did a fighting pair with that name, but he'd rather leave this room in one piece, preferably one unharmed piece.
- Still, this one… - he insisted.
- Have you even checked it up?
Ritsuka blushed despite himself.
- So I thought.
- What a professional journalist, Rit-chan - Nisei giggled coming to pat Ritsuka's shoulder - You're gonna make it big one day.
- Oh, fuck off - the boy sent the older man a vicious glare - Anyway, what does it mean? Big and scary?
Seimei chuckled indulgently, while Nisei put a hand on his hip.
- No, it means "defender of men" but you were pretty close.
- Who in their right mind would give this name to that egocentric bastard?
- Well, me.
- Scratch that "right mind" remark - Ritsuka sighed.
Nisei didn't seem to be bothered by the implication.
Keita was starting to doubt if any of the three men in this room would notice if he suddenly vanished. They were having the time of their lives, bickering like crazy.
Ritsuka rolled his violet eyes.
- Alright, why the "defender of men"? The only man he defends is himself.
Seimei was content with leaving it up to his fighter to explain. It was amusing.
Nisei gave him one look full of pure admiration and love-based devotion, then turned to Ritsuka.
- Doesn't he look like a king to you?
- Not really, but what's the point anyway?
It was Nisei's turn to roll his dark orbs.
- A short version for dummies: Iskandar is Persian for Alexander, I think the rest is obvious.
Of course, Nisei the history-lover. Just great. Alexander. Phew. Seimei did have an ego.
- He's Iskandar and I'm his Bagoas.
Seimei smiled, making Ritsuka think of a big satisfied cat.
- Yes. After all, he's still my slave. So, slave, what are we going to do with them?
Nisei's face lit up. It didn't have a nice effect.
- I'd say they know a little too much, wouldn't you, mi Amado?
- Definitely - Seimei's baritone had a cutting note to it.
Ritsuka shivered. He honestly didn't expect that sudden change of atmosphere. But one may never get too comfortable in a presence of two possible psychopaths.
He knew he could probably negotiate with them. Seimei, as he'd said himself, had a soft spot for him, in a memory of his obsessive love from his younger days and Nisei, frankly, had turned out to be far more reasonable than his sacrifice several times. If he gave them the right arguments, they'd let him go.
He glanced at Keita.
That was the problem. Not matter the arguments, they'd never let Keita get out alive. He'd learnt too much. He now knew their faces, their names and the address of the office. Truth to be told, despite Seimei's bad deeds, Ritsuka would never report him (he would never report Nisei either, because it'd hurt his brother too much, or at least that was what he tried to convince himself of), but Keita probably would.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He was desperately searching for a solution. He needed to get them out of here alive, but also prevent Keita from going to the police. He tried to find something in his memory, replaying all of the most disastrous activities he'd taken part in.
Suddenly, he felt something. It was like a touch. A warm, yet cooling touch.
Intrigued and a little bit scared (you could never be too careful in one room with Akame), he focused on it. It didn't feel nice to have a foreign presence in your own mind.
He almost cursed aloud when he realised what it was.
It was a link connecting him to Soubi.
...
The blonde fighter jerked up registering a nagging presence in his mind. He knew what it was immediately and almost cried out in joy. He finally was one with Ritsuka!
The link was going to lead him straight to his Sacrifice.
...
Soubi was coming to him.
Ritsuka glanced at Seimei, Nisei and then Keita. The first one would be pissed, the second ready to kill the blonde and the third scared shitless and probably without hope of living to see another day.
He had no doubts Soubi would fight.
Only he wondered if it was such a good idea after all.
...