Heart of the Fox ~ 1/? ~ [Reita/Uruha]
Title: Heart of the Fox
Author: ravennightmare6
Beta: krasivayadusha
Chapter: 1/?
Genre: AU, Supernatural, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Humour
Rating(Overall): NC-17
Pairing/s: Reita(Akira)/Uruha
Synopsis: Things in this world are never as they seem and, sometimes, we have to learn that lesson the hard way. Just when you think you know everything, life can throw you the most shocking of curveballs.
Warnings: Some violence, Use of real names, Profanity, Some sexual content
Disclaimer: As unfortunate as it may be, I do not own The GazettE. I only own the plot.
Comments: At the bottom, darlings <3
Noise blasted through the amplifiers as the mediocre band on the small stage played disarrayed chords, the screechy voice of the lead vocalist piercing patrons’ ears. Akira never understood why his manager insisted on hiring crappy bands. The greying man always said that he ‘just wanted to help them get started’. But some of the groups he hauled in were like listening to constant nails down a chalkboard for hours on end.
Akira felt a shiver go up his spine as the tiny female vocalist hit a particularly screechy note. As he looked around he saw the faces of the customers contorted in clear discomfort. What was even worse was the fact that the bar itself was quite small and it was successful in trapping in a fair amount of noise. With a sigh, Akira threw down the cloth he was using to wipe a glass clean and trudged towards the back of the semi-crowded bar arriving at the door to his manager’s office. The name plaque on the door glinted at him in the dim light, announcing that Nakamura Daichi was placed securely behind the soundproof door.
“Lucky bastard,” Akira mumbled as he brought his fist up and knocked on the door.
He only just heard a faint ‘come in’ from behind the door. Entering into the slightly cramped space, Akira shut the door behind him, noticing that the sound of possibly the world’s shittest band was almost completely blocked out.
“Daichi, man,” Akira began. Usually employees weren’t meant to speak to their bosses so casually, but Akira had worked at the bar for long enough that he didn’t need to worry about formalities anymore. “You’ve got to do something about that band. They fuckin’ suck.”
Daichi sighed, “Come on Akira. Can’t you just put up with them for a bit longer? I know they aren’t your favourite genre… But it’s exceedingly hard to find bands that are willing to perform in a gay bar. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know that.” Of course he knew that. People had all kinds of misconceptions about gay bars. Everyone thought that all the men who went there wore poorly applied makeup and either heaps of leather or way too much spandex. People thought it was all tight-fitting leopard print pants, glitter, and hairspray. Of course, sometimes a guy exactly like that would stroll through the door, but it was a rarity. Really, The Blue Lagoon was just like any other bar. The only difference was it provided a safe place for homosexual men to enjoy a drink without being ridiculed by the rest of society. “But these guys actually suck, man. Come and have a listen,” Akira nodded his head in the direction of the main part of the bar.
With an exasperated sigh Daichi stood up and came out from behind his desk. Akira held the door open and trailed behind him until they reached the bar counter. The well-built blonde watched his manager’s face twist into the same look of discomfort as the rest of the men in the room and he couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly.
“Alright, I see your point,” Daichi said after all of about thirty seconds of listening to the band he’d never even bothered to learn the name of. “I’ll sort it out.” He patted his junior’s shoulder. “Now get back to work, you.”
Akira chuckled, “Yes boss.”
Within the next ten minutes the deafening excuse for music was shut off and a pissed off looking band were packing away their equipment. Akira wondered what Daichi had actually said to them. With a chuckle he returned behind the bar just in time to take few orders. Once people had been served and he’d swapped pleasant chit-chat with a few regulars, the blonde bartender was back to wiping clean glasses and putting them away.
“I assume you’re the one who got them kicked off the stage?” A bright voice asked, causing Akira to spin around and lean back against the bench top.
He smiled at his co-worker, a cheery young boy with long brown hair, usually tied up in a high pony tail, who never had a bad word to say about anyone. Chuckling, Akira nodded triumphantly, “Of course, who else but the wonderful me?”
His bubbly workmate snorted, “Don’t be so cocky. Besides, they weren’t that bad.”
“Oh, come on, Yutaka,” Akira folded his arms over his broad chest, studying his friend. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re only saying that because you’re way too nice for your own good. They were shit.”
Yutaka shrugged, “They could use a little more practice… But I wouldn’t say they’re shit.”
“Yutaka.” Akira walked closer and slapped his hands down on the younger boy’s slim shoulders, drawing a small squeak out of him. Bending down slightly, Akira stared directly into Yutaka’s chocolate brown orbs, a look of total seriousness on his handsome features. “They were fucking terrible.”
Yutaka burst out laughing and slapped at one of Akira’s arms, “Oh, don’t be so horrible.”
Drawing back, Akira smirked and shrugged, “Hey, that’s just what I am.” He returned to his side of the bar and picked up the cloth again, wiping out a glass and placing it back in one of the cabinets behind him.
“No, that’s nothing like you,” the bubbly brunette pointed out. “You’re probably the nicest person I know.”
“Eeh!” Making a noise that was meant to sound like a buzzer; Akira spun around and looked at his friend again, waving the cloth in his direction. “Wrong! You’re the nicest person anyone knows. Seriously, we need to work on building up a dickhead side to you.”
“Come on, Akira,” he playfully chided his blonde co-worker. “I’m not going to be an arse just for the sake of being an arse. Besides, that’s your job, isn’t it?”
“Oi!” Akira threw his cloth at Yutaka who was giggling relentlessly. “How rude,” he feigned offence as he placed a hand over his heart.
Yutaka’s giggling rose to hysterics as Akira continued to act hurt. “Don’t be like that, Aki-chan,” the brunette picked up the cloth that’d been thrown at him and whipped Akira lightly on the arm.
Akira scrunched up his face in disgust, “How many timed have I told you not to call me that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aki-chan,” Yutaka covered his mouth as he continued to giggle. Akira just glared at the slightly shorter brunette, lightly smacking him upside the head. “Ouch!” He glared at the older man, rubbing the back of his head.
“Oh, come on,” Akira scoffed. “That didn’t hurt. Stop being a baby, Yutaka.” The young brunette just poked his tongue at Akira and sulkily returned to his side of the bar. Akira clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “So childish,” he mumbled to himself.
Returning to his duties as a bartender, Akira watched the clock tick towards midnight. He knew he wouldn’t be leaving the place until at least four in the morning. But such was the life of a bartender. He’d been in the business for almost nine years, since he’d turned twenty. Of course, it wasn’t what he’d originally planned to do, but it wasn’t bad work; in fact he quite enjoyed it. The place was nice and welcoming, his boss was a great guy, his co-workers gave him no trouble and the customers were friendly more often than not. He’d made a few really great friends from working at the bar; friends he knew he could rely on.
He hadn’t realized he’d been off in dreamland until he heard a tapping sound on the bar and someone clearing their throat.
“I’m so sorry,” Akira said as he fumbled to put down the glass he’d probably been wiping for the past ten minutes and slung his newly acquired cleaning cloth over his shoulder. “What can I get for you toni-”
Akira stopped mid-sentence when he turned around to face the man standing on the other side of the bar counter. He had to struggle to keep his jaw from hitting the ground. He guessed this could be considered one of those one-off moments when you don’t get just any regular guy strolling through the door. The man in front of Akira was nothing short of gorgeous. A black leather jacket adorned by a few studs sat over a form fitting crimson button up shirt, showing off the man’s wonderfully slim torso. His purposely tousled raven hair brushed his shoulders, framing his face nicely, and his fringe hung across one eye. His lips were plush and had an oddly beautiful shape to them, his nose pointed and petite, and he wore well-applied black eye shadow. With his thin face, arched eyebrows, and high cheekbones, Akira could only describe his appearance as fox-like. But what really caught the blonde bartender’s attention was his eyes, which were a beautiful and exotic shade of emerald green. At first he’d thought they were contact lenses, but after studying them for a moment he’d decided that they were definitely natural. Having an eye colour like that was extremely uncharacteristic of anyone Japanese, so Akira came to the conclusion that he must have had some European influence somewhere along the line.
Akira regathered his wits and leaned casually against the counter. “What can I get for you?”
The newcomer stared at him for longer than what the average person would and it made the bartender feel slightly uncomfortable. “A tonic and tequila,” he announced in a deep voice that sounded like velvet.
Akira quickly got to work, putting a few ice cubes in a glass, pouring in a splash of the strong alcohol and mixing in a good amount of tonic. Pushing in a wedge of lime and a straw, Akira turned around and placed the finished product on the bar counter with a smile. The mysterious man pushed the money across the counter and Akira gratefully accepted it.
The dark haired man removed his leather jacket and slung it over the back of the chair as he sat with one of his slim legs crossed over the other, Akira could see now that he was wear tight-fitting ripped black jeans and a pair of fancy leather shoes. He stared out over the area like he was searching for something.
Akira cleared his throat, not really knowing how to start a conversation besides the obvious way. But he figured it was better than nothing. “So,” he stared, gaining the man’s attention. “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you here?”
He took a sip from his drink and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the countertop, lean fingers circling the top of his glass. “Just scoping out a few new places.”
“Yeah? And how does this place stack up to others?” Akira didn’t see the harm in a little flirting; the guy was incredibly good looking after all.
“Hm,” the raven man looked at the bartender with his piecing green eyes and smirked, eyes travelling up and down his body. “I think it’s pretty great so far.”
Akira chuckled, “What’s your name, newbie?”
“Kouyou. Takashima Kouyou,” he smiled endearingly and leaned ever so slightly closer. “And yours?”
“Suzuki Akira,” the blonde bartender said, folding his arms and leaning his hip against the countertop. “It’s nice to meet you, Takashima-san.”
“Oh, please,” Kouyou raised and hand as if a signal to stop. “Call me Kouyou.”
Akira stared at the man for a moment, taken aback by how casual he was. He lacked the usual formality of a Japanese person, not that Akira was really complaining. It was just uncharacteristic of the regular Japanese man.
Akira smiled, “Alright, Kouyou. In that case, feel free to call me Akira.”
‘He looks like he’d be a really good fu-’
“Akira!” Yutaka’s chirpy voice cut into his thoughts as the young brunette practically materialized beside him. “Where can I find the-” Yutaka stopped when he spotted who Akira was chatting to. “Uruha…” He mumbled, staring wide-eyed at the raven haired man.
“Eh?” Akira frowned, looking at Yutaka. “What are you talking about? This is Kouyou.”
If Yutaka had heard what Akira said he just ignored it, not breaking his apparent staring contest with Kouyou who’d also turned to attention from Akira to the other man. Kouyou smirked, though the blonde bartender wasn’t quite sure why.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Yutaka spat. The bitterness was a side to the young man Akira had never seen before, and the sudden change in attitude had him completely befuddled for a moment. But he guessed from the way the young man stared at Kouyou they had some kind of sour history.
Kouyou chuckled darkly. “Hello, Kai. It’s been a long time, ne?” Obviously he was trying to take the innocent approach to the whole situation. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Yutaka inhaled sharply, “You need to leave. Now.”
“Yutaka, don’t be so rude,” Akira scolded his friend. “What’s gotten into you?” But his words fell on deaf ears as the pair continued to stare at each other; Yutaka glaring and Kouyou seeming smug.
“What’s wrong, Kai? All I did was come for a drink,” Kouyou shifted in his chair so he was no longer facing Akira, now turned towards the fired up little brunette. “And Akira, here, was being very welcoming. I’ve taken quite a liking to him.”
Yutaka’s eyes widened even more. “Get out, Uruha.”
Akira was quickly losing his patience. He hated being ignored and he hated not knowing what was going on. Here these two were having a conversation, acting like he wasn’t even there, ignoring every word he said. What the hell was going on?
“Hm…” Kouyou hummed, pretending to think for a moment. “I don’t want to. I think I’ll stay here for a little longer. I have lovely company after all.” The raven man reached out and ran his long, dainty fingers over the hand Akira was resting on the countertop. When the blonde looked at him he flashed a deviously flirtatious smile.
Yutaka went rigid. “Uruha,” he snapped. “I told you I never wanted to see you ever again.”
“Come now, Kai,” Kouyou chided. “Don’t be that way. Can’t I at least come by for a visit?”
“No,” Yutaka glowered darkly.
Akira looked between the two of them. He was fed up with this. Slamming a palm down on the counter of the bar he gained both of the men’s attention; Yutaka jumping slightly and Kouyou calmly turning his head to look questioningly at the blonde. “What the hell is going on? How do you know each other? Why are you calling him Uruha?” he looked at Yutaka, then at Kouyou, “And why are you calling him Kai? His name is Yutaka.”
Putting his elbow on the counter and leaning his chin into his cupped hand, Kouyou gave an exasperated sigh, “So many questions… Go on Yutaka,” he said the name like it was poison in his mouth. “Tell dear Akira what’s going on. How do we know each other?”
The young brunette stared up at Akira with his eyebrows drawn together, looking guilty. “He’s, um… He’s my… older brother.” Yutaka twiddled his thumbs nervously as he cast his eyes downwards.
Akira’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the two. He couldn’t see it. Where Yutaka was small and cute with a bright smile and dimples, almost child-like, Kouyou was tall and lean with pouty lips and an air of flirtatiousness about him, like a vixen. They seemed like polar opposites. But he believed Yutaka, there was no reason for him to lie. Kouyou nodded his head once when Akira looked to him for confirmation. The raven seemed pleased with himself; like he was happy he’d been able to force Yutaka out of his comfort zone. Akira wondered what kind of history the two had, what made the youngest of the pair hate his brother so much. The blonde bartender had a feeling he wasn’t being told the whole truth.
“Ok…” Akira started, still looking back and forth between the apparent brothers. “So why are you Kai and Uruha, then?”
“Childhood nicknames,” Yutaka answered, probably a little too quickly.
“Don’t lie to me Yutaka. You know I can always tell,” Akira studied the way Yutaka shied away. The young brunette had always been a horrible liar, not to mention Akira’s bullshit radar was impeccable. Not much slipped past the blonde.
Yutaka glanced at Kouyou, as if asking the raven to explain everything. The elder of the brothers smirked and looked at Akira. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.”
Saying that Akira was beyond confused would be the understatement of the millennium. What could be so bad about explaining the names they called each other by? Was there really that much history behind them?
Kouyou looked around like he was checking to see if anyone around them was paying attention. “Not here. Outside.”
“But we can’t leave the bar, we’re working!” Yutaka interjected quickly.
“It’s alright, Yutaka,” Akira said, placing a hand on the man’s small shoulder. “You stay here and I’ll go. If Daichi comes out just tell him I’ve gone on a bathroom break.”
Yutaka looked up at the elder man. “No, wait, Akira you can’t-”
“Let’s go,” Akira said as he gave Yutaka’s shoulder a pat and nodded for Kouyou to follow him. He ignored the other bartender’s calls as he led the still smirking raven towards the staff entrance out the back.
Exiting into the dimly lit back ally Akira pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one up, offering one to Kouyou who shook his head in refusal. Leaning back against the wall and taking a long drag, Akira puffed out a little cloud of smoke and analysed the raven.
“So,” Akira began. “Start explaining.”
Kouyou chuckled, “Straight to the point, huh? I see you’re not one for foreplay.” The tall raven slunk across the ally to where Akira stood, coming to a standstill just in front of the blonde. “Such a shame,” he said as he ran his fingertips from Akira’s studded belt, up the front of his shirt, making him shiver at the light touch. “I was really looking forward to having some fun with you.”
“Just talk, Kouyou.” He had to resist moaning when the raven trailed his hand back down the right side of Akira’s chest, purposely brushing his fingers over a nipple. The blonde dropped his cigarette and it hissed slightly as it hit the damp pavement, going out. “Now, what’s going on with you and Yutaka?”
“Hm,” Kouyou hummed as he continued to run his hand up and down Akira’s chest. “That’s not his name; just as mine is not Kouyou.”
Akira gritted his teeth, he wouldn’t give in to this vixen. “Then what are your names?”
“He is Kai, and I am Uruha,” he took a step closer and leaned in so that their bodies came into contact, his breath tickling Akira’s ear.
“Why would both of you lie about your names, then?” Akira shut his eyes and furrowed his brow, concentrating hard on not giving in to Kouyo- no, Uruha’s little game.
“Because we need to fit into human society somehow,” the raven hummed, brushing his lips against the skin of Akira’s neck as he leaned one had against the wall beside the blonde’s shoulder.
“‘Fit in’? What’re you talking about?” Akira grunted as he felt Uruha’s teeth brush against his skin as the raven nipped at his neck.
“Mm… How much do you know about folklore, Akira?” Uruha asked, undoing the button at the collar of Akira’s bartender’s uniform.
“Not much,” Akira pressed his back against the wall, hoping he could somehow sink into it. Why was Uruha asking about fairy tales now?
“What a shame. But, surely you’ve heard of creatures called kitsunes? Yes? The legendary nine-tailed foxes of mythology.”
All Akira could do was nod.
“Well, you see, when a kitsune turns one hundred, they can gain the ability to shapeshift into a human form. Kitsunes do not have regular human names, so when they become human they must create their own human identity. If they so choose, that is.” Another one of Akira’s buttons came undone as Uruha spoke into the crook of his neck in a low sensual voice. “But, you know. Kitsunes don’t start out with nine tails. They have to gain them, and the more tail they have the wiser, stronger, faster, better the kitsune is.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Akira groaned as Uruha shifted his body, brushing their crotches together. He was hard, he knew it, and from what he felt Uruha was as well. It was taking all his restraint not to fuck the raven right there; he wanted an explanation more than sex.
Uruha chuckled, hot breath hitting Akira’s already heated skin. “Come on, Akira. Don’t tell me you’re that dim… Kai and myself… We’re both kitsunes.”
Another button and then another popped open, and Uruha’s hand slipped its way into inside the cotton button-up, brushing lightly against a hard bud. Akira pushed his back harder against the wall in order to stop himself from arching into the touch. “I don’t believe you,” he huffed out.
Uruha chuckled, “I knew you wouldn’t.” Slowly he lightly pinched one of Akira’s nipples between his thumb and index finger, relishing in the choked moan he was able to coax out of the blonde. “But that’s what we are.”
“Prove it,” Akira groaned.
“Oh, but I am.” The bartender could hear the smirk in the raven man’s voice. “You just aren’t looking.”
“Eh?” Akira realized that his eyes were still shut tightly. Slowly he opened them, taking in the sight before him in total shock. Uruha was still occupied at his neck, sucking lightly on the skin as if nothing at all had changed; but it had. Akira could count seven white tipped black fox tails protruding from where any other human’s tail bone would be. He gasped and put his hands on Uruha’s shoulders, pushing him back. “What the hell? How… I don’t… What?” He stammered.
Uruha chuckled and pressed against the blonde again. “Surprised? I would be too if I were you.” Pushing his hand back into Akira’s shirt he began to tease the nipple that’d been neglected before. His pouty lips returned to the bartender’s neck, sucking and licking on the sensitive skin.
Akira moaned gruffly, clenching his hands into tight fists. “But, how is this even possible?”
“Hm… you ask too many questions.” Uruha pulled back and studied Akira’s face for a moment before leaning in and connecting their lips together.
And that’s when Akira lost it. Pulling back with a low growl, he grabbed Uruha’s arms and flipped them around so that the raven was the one pressed against the wall. The taller of the two gasped and chuckled as their positions were switched. Akira pressed hard against the man who’d been sporting seven tails only a few moments before, making sure it was clear how hard he was. He could feel Uruha’s bulging member through those ridiculously tight jeans and he moaned as he pushed his hips forward, grinding his erection against the kitsune’s. Uruha didn’t protest either. Instead, he participated actively, following Akira’s lead as their clothed bulges rubbed together.
Uruha moaned lewdly as Akira pressed him further into the wall, and when his head tipped back the bartender took the opportunity to ravage the exposed skin of his neck. Grunts left Akira’s throat as a brought a hand up to caress over the kitsune’s clothed nipple. He was pleasantly surprised when a rather loud moan left Uruha’s swollen lips.
Akira dropped his hands and slid them underneath Uruha’s thighs, lifting him up so that his full weight was supported by Akira and the wall. The raven wrapped his legs around the bartender’s waist and rolled his hips forward in an expert manner, bringing forth a low grunt from the other man. Akira stooped his head down and licked one of the hardened nubs under the crimson material. Uruha arched, moaning again as he brought his hands up and tangled his fingers into Akira’s, very styled, spiked hair.
“Mm… Oh, fuck,” Uruha breathed as Akira brushed his teeth over the nipple.
“Akira?” A faint voice called from the other side of the door.
Suddenly, the blonde bartender came back to reality and pulled back, setting the raven back on his own two feet. “Shit, shit, shit,” he chanted as he tried to straighten out his dishevelled hair and button up his shirt. He saw Uruha doing the same, but with much less urgency.
The back door opened and Yutaka stepped outside, concern evident all over his kind features, “Akira, is everything ok? You were gone for a long time.”
“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Yutaka. Uruha and I were just talking.”
Yutaka looked down at his feet and mumbled, “You called him Uruha… So you know.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Akira nodded, “I do. But that doesn’t change things between us, ok? You’re still my friend, no matter what.” The blonde crossed the ally to stand in front of his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, Yutaka?”
“Why aren’t you calling me Kai? You called him Uruha,” Yutaka almost whimpered.
Akira smiled, “Because, to me, you’ll always be Yutaka.”
The young brunette looked up at Akira with bright eyes and a big smile across his face, the one Akira had grown so used to after years of working with the bubbly man. Yutaka threw his arms around his co-worker’s neck and hugged him tight, “Thank you so much Akira!”
“Well isn’t that cute?” A bitter voice sounded from beside the embracing pair. They let go of each other and spotted Uruha walking past them. “I really don’t understand why you’re so fond of humans, Kai. They’re not worth the time,” he threw the comment over his shoulder as he walked back into the bar.
They both looked after Yutaka’s older brother as he disappeared back inside. Suddenly the smaller bartender turned to his friend and pulled out a little black pouch, sliding it into Akira’s palm. When the blonde frowned at Yutaka questioningly the brunette explained, “I took this out of his jacket inside, so it won’t be long before he notices, make sure you listen.” Yutaka took a deep breath. “Kitsunes have this thing called a star ball. It’s a stupid name, I know, I didn’t make it up. But it’s basically our life force. If you have a kitsune’s star ball you basically have control over them, they’ll do anything you want. In there,” - Yutaka pointed to the pouch - “Is my brother’s star ball… Uruha is here to kill me.” Akira opened his mouth to speak but the brunette held up a hand and stopped him, “Be quiet and listen. I need your help. He knows that, even if I have his life force, I couldn’t hurt him even if I wanted to. But I know that, if it came down to the wire, you could do it. But I’m not asking you to hurt him at all, just hang onto that. As long as you have his star ball and forbid him from coming near me, Uruha can’t lay one finger on me. Do you understand?”
Akira stared at his friend. He had no reason to not believe Yutaka because he could tell that the brunette was telling the truth. Slowly, Akira nodded his head and slid the pouch into the pocket of his jeans.
“You have to keep it with you at all times. Got it?” Yutaka pressed. “If he gets hold of it again, he will kill you, Akira.”
“I understand,” Akira said reassuringly. “But, Yutaka?”
“Yeah?” His friend looked up at him.
“Are you really over a hundred years old?”
Yutaka chuckled and hit Akira on the arm lightly. “Yes. Actually, I’m three hundred and eighty-six,” the brunette said as if it was the most natural, normal thing in the world. He laughed loudly as he saw his friends jaw drop.
Suddenly a loud crash followed by an angered scream echoed from inside the bar. Yutaka whimpered and skittered behind Akira who tensed, putting his hand on the pouch in his pocket. He wasn’t afraid to die protecting his friend. And, if what Yutaka said was true, Uruha wouldn’t go near them as long as he had the star ball. The back door flung open, hitting the brick wall hard and caused the stone to crack outwards in a spider web kind of effect. Akira gulped; Uruha looked beyond pissed.
“Kai, you little shit!” Uruha bellowed, stepping forward into the ally. “Where the hell is my star ball?!”
Next Chapter
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A/N: So, a new story. I was going to wait a bit before posting this seeing as I only just posted chapter 6 to TLIPO. But my impatient personality couldn't wait. I bet no one was expecting a supernatural fic! ^_^ This one is also beta'd by the incredible krasivayadusha. So a huge thanks to her <3 <3
I've wanted to write a supernatural fic for a while but I felt like vampires and werewolves are done so often (not that I have any problem with that) and there are lots of ways you can go wrong with them because there are so many out there. But, I thought, seeing as the GazettE are a Japanese band, in Japan, why not do something to with Japanese folklore/mythology. I actually did a lot of research for this. None of the stuff I put in there is made up by me, like the one hundred years thing and the star ball. That's all from doing research.
The title itself is kind of like a metaphor, I guess. It refers to the star ball which is like the heart of a kitsune. If you stab someone in the heart, they'll die and if you break a kitsune's star ball they'll die. So that's what the title means. It might have a bit of a double meaning later as well.
Anyway, I'll stop rambling. I really hope you all enjoy this story. I know it was heaps of fun for me to write. I can tell it'll be a good one :) <3
Author: ravennightmare6
Beta: krasivayadusha
Chapter: 1/?
Genre: AU, Supernatural, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Humour
Rating(Overall): NC-17
Pairing/s: Reita(Akira)/Uruha
Synopsis: Things in this world are never as they seem and, sometimes, we have to learn that lesson the hard way. Just when you think you know everything, life can throw you the most shocking of curveballs.
Warnings: Some violence, Use of real names, Profanity, Some sexual content
Disclaimer: As unfortunate as it may be, I do not own The GazettE. I only own the plot.
Comments: At the bottom, darlings <3
Noise blasted through the amplifiers as the mediocre band on the small stage played disarrayed chords, the screechy voice of the lead vocalist piercing patrons’ ears. Akira never understood why his manager insisted on hiring crappy bands. The greying man always said that he ‘just wanted to help them get started’. But some of the groups he hauled in were like listening to constant nails down a chalkboard for hours on end.
Akira felt a shiver go up his spine as the tiny female vocalist hit a particularly screechy note. As he looked around he saw the faces of the customers contorted in clear discomfort. What was even worse was the fact that the bar itself was quite small and it was successful in trapping in a fair amount of noise. With a sigh, Akira threw down the cloth he was using to wipe a glass clean and trudged towards the back of the semi-crowded bar arriving at the door to his manager’s office. The name plaque on the door glinted at him in the dim light, announcing that Nakamura Daichi was placed securely behind the soundproof door.
“Lucky bastard,” Akira mumbled as he brought his fist up and knocked on the door.
He only just heard a faint ‘come in’ from behind the door. Entering into the slightly cramped space, Akira shut the door behind him, noticing that the sound of possibly the world’s shittest band was almost completely blocked out.
“Daichi, man,” Akira began. Usually employees weren’t meant to speak to their bosses so casually, but Akira had worked at the bar for long enough that he didn’t need to worry about formalities anymore. “You’ve got to do something about that band. They fuckin’ suck.”
Daichi sighed, “Come on Akira. Can’t you just put up with them for a bit longer? I know they aren’t your favourite genre… But it’s exceedingly hard to find bands that are willing to perform in a gay bar. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know that.” Of course he knew that. People had all kinds of misconceptions about gay bars. Everyone thought that all the men who went there wore poorly applied makeup and either heaps of leather or way too much spandex. People thought it was all tight-fitting leopard print pants, glitter, and hairspray. Of course, sometimes a guy exactly like that would stroll through the door, but it was a rarity. Really, The Blue Lagoon was just like any other bar. The only difference was it provided a safe place for homosexual men to enjoy a drink without being ridiculed by the rest of society. “But these guys actually suck, man. Come and have a listen,” Akira nodded his head in the direction of the main part of the bar.
With an exasperated sigh Daichi stood up and came out from behind his desk. Akira held the door open and trailed behind him until they reached the bar counter. The well-built blonde watched his manager’s face twist into the same look of discomfort as the rest of the men in the room and he couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly.
“Alright, I see your point,” Daichi said after all of about thirty seconds of listening to the band he’d never even bothered to learn the name of. “I’ll sort it out.” He patted his junior’s shoulder. “Now get back to work, you.”
Akira chuckled, “Yes boss.”
Within the next ten minutes the deafening excuse for music was shut off and a pissed off looking band were packing away their equipment. Akira wondered what Daichi had actually said to them. With a chuckle he returned behind the bar just in time to take few orders. Once people had been served and he’d swapped pleasant chit-chat with a few regulars, the blonde bartender was back to wiping clean glasses and putting them away.
“I assume you’re the one who got them kicked off the stage?” A bright voice asked, causing Akira to spin around and lean back against the bench top.
He smiled at his co-worker, a cheery young boy with long brown hair, usually tied up in a high pony tail, who never had a bad word to say about anyone. Chuckling, Akira nodded triumphantly, “Of course, who else but the wonderful me?”
His bubbly workmate snorted, “Don’t be so cocky. Besides, they weren’t that bad.”
“Oh, come on, Yutaka,” Akira folded his arms over his broad chest, studying his friend. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re only saying that because you’re way too nice for your own good. They were shit.”
Yutaka shrugged, “They could use a little more practice… But I wouldn’t say they’re shit.”
“Yutaka.” Akira walked closer and slapped his hands down on the younger boy’s slim shoulders, drawing a small squeak out of him. Bending down slightly, Akira stared directly into Yutaka’s chocolate brown orbs, a look of total seriousness on his handsome features. “They were fucking terrible.”
Yutaka burst out laughing and slapped at one of Akira’s arms, “Oh, don’t be so horrible.”
Drawing back, Akira smirked and shrugged, “Hey, that’s just what I am.” He returned to his side of the bar and picked up the cloth again, wiping out a glass and placing it back in one of the cabinets behind him.
“No, that’s nothing like you,” the bubbly brunette pointed out. “You’re probably the nicest person I know.”
“Eeh!” Making a noise that was meant to sound like a buzzer; Akira spun around and looked at his friend again, waving the cloth in his direction. “Wrong! You’re the nicest person anyone knows. Seriously, we need to work on building up a dickhead side to you.”
“Come on, Akira,” he playfully chided his blonde co-worker. “I’m not going to be an arse just for the sake of being an arse. Besides, that’s your job, isn’t it?”
“Oi!” Akira threw his cloth at Yutaka who was giggling relentlessly. “How rude,” he feigned offence as he placed a hand over his heart.
Yutaka’s giggling rose to hysterics as Akira continued to act hurt. “Don’t be like that, Aki-chan,” the brunette picked up the cloth that’d been thrown at him and whipped Akira lightly on the arm.
Akira scrunched up his face in disgust, “How many timed have I told you not to call me that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aki-chan,” Yutaka covered his mouth as he continued to giggle. Akira just glared at the slightly shorter brunette, lightly smacking him upside the head. “Ouch!” He glared at the older man, rubbing the back of his head.
“Oh, come on,” Akira scoffed. “That didn’t hurt. Stop being a baby, Yutaka.” The young brunette just poked his tongue at Akira and sulkily returned to his side of the bar. Akira clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “So childish,” he mumbled to himself.
Returning to his duties as a bartender, Akira watched the clock tick towards midnight. He knew he wouldn’t be leaving the place until at least four in the morning. But such was the life of a bartender. He’d been in the business for almost nine years, since he’d turned twenty. Of course, it wasn’t what he’d originally planned to do, but it wasn’t bad work; in fact he quite enjoyed it. The place was nice and welcoming, his boss was a great guy, his co-workers gave him no trouble and the customers were friendly more often than not. He’d made a few really great friends from working at the bar; friends he knew he could rely on.
He hadn’t realized he’d been off in dreamland until he heard a tapping sound on the bar and someone clearing their throat.
“I’m so sorry,” Akira said as he fumbled to put down the glass he’d probably been wiping for the past ten minutes and slung his newly acquired cleaning cloth over his shoulder. “What can I get for you toni-”
Akira stopped mid-sentence when he turned around to face the man standing on the other side of the bar counter. He had to struggle to keep his jaw from hitting the ground. He guessed this could be considered one of those one-off moments when you don’t get just any regular guy strolling through the door. The man in front of Akira was nothing short of gorgeous. A black leather jacket adorned by a few studs sat over a form fitting crimson button up shirt, showing off the man’s wonderfully slim torso. His purposely tousled raven hair brushed his shoulders, framing his face nicely, and his fringe hung across one eye. His lips were plush and had an oddly beautiful shape to them, his nose pointed and petite, and he wore well-applied black eye shadow. With his thin face, arched eyebrows, and high cheekbones, Akira could only describe his appearance as fox-like. But what really caught the blonde bartender’s attention was his eyes, which were a beautiful and exotic shade of emerald green. At first he’d thought they were contact lenses, but after studying them for a moment he’d decided that they were definitely natural. Having an eye colour like that was extremely uncharacteristic of anyone Japanese, so Akira came to the conclusion that he must have had some European influence somewhere along the line.
Akira regathered his wits and leaned casually against the counter. “What can I get for you?”
The newcomer stared at him for longer than what the average person would and it made the bartender feel slightly uncomfortable. “A tonic and tequila,” he announced in a deep voice that sounded like velvet.
Akira quickly got to work, putting a few ice cubes in a glass, pouring in a splash of the strong alcohol and mixing in a good amount of tonic. Pushing in a wedge of lime and a straw, Akira turned around and placed the finished product on the bar counter with a smile. The mysterious man pushed the money across the counter and Akira gratefully accepted it.
The dark haired man removed his leather jacket and slung it over the back of the chair as he sat with one of his slim legs crossed over the other, Akira could see now that he was wear tight-fitting ripped black jeans and a pair of fancy leather shoes. He stared out over the area like he was searching for something.
Akira cleared his throat, not really knowing how to start a conversation besides the obvious way. But he figured it was better than nothing. “So,” he stared, gaining the man’s attention. “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you here?”
He took a sip from his drink and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the countertop, lean fingers circling the top of his glass. “Just scoping out a few new places.”
“Yeah? And how does this place stack up to others?” Akira didn’t see the harm in a little flirting; the guy was incredibly good looking after all.
“Hm,” the raven man looked at the bartender with his piecing green eyes and smirked, eyes travelling up and down his body. “I think it’s pretty great so far.”
Akira chuckled, “What’s your name, newbie?”
“Kouyou. Takashima Kouyou,” he smiled endearingly and leaned ever so slightly closer. “And yours?”
“Suzuki Akira,” the blonde bartender said, folding his arms and leaning his hip against the countertop. “It’s nice to meet you, Takashima-san.”
“Oh, please,” Kouyou raised and hand as if a signal to stop. “Call me Kouyou.”
Akira stared at the man for a moment, taken aback by how casual he was. He lacked the usual formality of a Japanese person, not that Akira was really complaining. It was just uncharacteristic of the regular Japanese man.
Akira smiled, “Alright, Kouyou. In that case, feel free to call me Akira.”
‘He looks like he’d be a really good fu-’
“Akira!” Yutaka’s chirpy voice cut into his thoughts as the young brunette practically materialized beside him. “Where can I find the-” Yutaka stopped when he spotted who Akira was chatting to. “Uruha…” He mumbled, staring wide-eyed at the raven haired man.
“Eh?” Akira frowned, looking at Yutaka. “What are you talking about? This is Kouyou.”
If Yutaka had heard what Akira said he just ignored it, not breaking his apparent staring contest with Kouyou who’d also turned to attention from Akira to the other man. Kouyou smirked, though the blonde bartender wasn’t quite sure why.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Yutaka spat. The bitterness was a side to the young man Akira had never seen before, and the sudden change in attitude had him completely befuddled for a moment. But he guessed from the way the young man stared at Kouyou they had some kind of sour history.
Kouyou chuckled darkly. “Hello, Kai. It’s been a long time, ne?” Obviously he was trying to take the innocent approach to the whole situation. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Yutaka inhaled sharply, “You need to leave. Now.”
“Yutaka, don’t be so rude,” Akira scolded his friend. “What’s gotten into you?” But his words fell on deaf ears as the pair continued to stare at each other; Yutaka glaring and Kouyou seeming smug.
“What’s wrong, Kai? All I did was come for a drink,” Kouyou shifted in his chair so he was no longer facing Akira, now turned towards the fired up little brunette. “And Akira, here, was being very welcoming. I’ve taken quite a liking to him.”
Yutaka’s eyes widened even more. “Get out, Uruha.”
Akira was quickly losing his patience. He hated being ignored and he hated not knowing what was going on. Here these two were having a conversation, acting like he wasn’t even there, ignoring every word he said. What the hell was going on?
“Hm…” Kouyou hummed, pretending to think for a moment. “I don’t want to. I think I’ll stay here for a little longer. I have lovely company after all.” The raven man reached out and ran his long, dainty fingers over the hand Akira was resting on the countertop. When the blonde looked at him he flashed a deviously flirtatious smile.
Yutaka went rigid. “Uruha,” he snapped. “I told you I never wanted to see you ever again.”
“Come now, Kai,” Kouyou chided. “Don’t be that way. Can’t I at least come by for a visit?”
“No,” Yutaka glowered darkly.
Akira looked between the two of them. He was fed up with this. Slamming a palm down on the counter of the bar he gained both of the men’s attention; Yutaka jumping slightly and Kouyou calmly turning his head to look questioningly at the blonde. “What the hell is going on? How do you know each other? Why are you calling him Uruha?” he looked at Yutaka, then at Kouyou, “And why are you calling him Kai? His name is Yutaka.”
Putting his elbow on the counter and leaning his chin into his cupped hand, Kouyou gave an exasperated sigh, “So many questions… Go on Yutaka,” he said the name like it was poison in his mouth. “Tell dear Akira what’s going on. How do we know each other?”
The young brunette stared up at Akira with his eyebrows drawn together, looking guilty. “He’s, um… He’s my… older brother.” Yutaka twiddled his thumbs nervously as he cast his eyes downwards.
Akira’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the two. He couldn’t see it. Where Yutaka was small and cute with a bright smile and dimples, almost child-like, Kouyou was tall and lean with pouty lips and an air of flirtatiousness about him, like a vixen. They seemed like polar opposites. But he believed Yutaka, there was no reason for him to lie. Kouyou nodded his head once when Akira looked to him for confirmation. The raven seemed pleased with himself; like he was happy he’d been able to force Yutaka out of his comfort zone. Akira wondered what kind of history the two had, what made the youngest of the pair hate his brother so much. The blonde bartender had a feeling he wasn’t being told the whole truth.
“Ok…” Akira started, still looking back and forth between the apparent brothers. “So why are you Kai and Uruha, then?”
“Childhood nicknames,” Yutaka answered, probably a little too quickly.
“Don’t lie to me Yutaka. You know I can always tell,” Akira studied the way Yutaka shied away. The young brunette had always been a horrible liar, not to mention Akira’s bullshit radar was impeccable. Not much slipped past the blonde.
Yutaka glanced at Kouyou, as if asking the raven to explain everything. The elder of the brothers smirked and looked at Akira. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.”
Saying that Akira was beyond confused would be the understatement of the millennium. What could be so bad about explaining the names they called each other by? Was there really that much history behind them?
Kouyou looked around like he was checking to see if anyone around them was paying attention. “Not here. Outside.”
“But we can’t leave the bar, we’re working!” Yutaka interjected quickly.
“It’s alright, Yutaka,” Akira said, placing a hand on the man’s small shoulder. “You stay here and I’ll go. If Daichi comes out just tell him I’ve gone on a bathroom break.”
Yutaka looked up at the elder man. “No, wait, Akira you can’t-”
“Let’s go,” Akira said as he gave Yutaka’s shoulder a pat and nodded for Kouyou to follow him. He ignored the other bartender’s calls as he led the still smirking raven towards the staff entrance out the back.
Exiting into the dimly lit back ally Akira pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one up, offering one to Kouyou who shook his head in refusal. Leaning back against the wall and taking a long drag, Akira puffed out a little cloud of smoke and analysed the raven.
“So,” Akira began. “Start explaining.”
Kouyou chuckled, “Straight to the point, huh? I see you’re not one for foreplay.” The tall raven slunk across the ally to where Akira stood, coming to a standstill just in front of the blonde. “Such a shame,” he said as he ran his fingertips from Akira’s studded belt, up the front of his shirt, making him shiver at the light touch. “I was really looking forward to having some fun with you.”
“Just talk, Kouyou.” He had to resist moaning when the raven trailed his hand back down the right side of Akira’s chest, purposely brushing his fingers over a nipple. The blonde dropped his cigarette and it hissed slightly as it hit the damp pavement, going out. “Now, what’s going on with you and Yutaka?”
“Hm,” Kouyou hummed as he continued to run his hand up and down Akira’s chest. “That’s not his name; just as mine is not Kouyou.”
Akira gritted his teeth, he wouldn’t give in to this vixen. “Then what are your names?”
“He is Kai, and I am Uruha,” he took a step closer and leaned in so that their bodies came into contact, his breath tickling Akira’s ear.
“Why would both of you lie about your names, then?” Akira shut his eyes and furrowed his brow, concentrating hard on not giving in to Kouyo- no, Uruha’s little game.
“Because we need to fit into human society somehow,” the raven hummed, brushing his lips against the skin of Akira’s neck as he leaned one had against the wall beside the blonde’s shoulder.
“‘Fit in’? What’re you talking about?” Akira grunted as he felt Uruha’s teeth brush against his skin as the raven nipped at his neck.
“Mm… How much do you know about folklore, Akira?” Uruha asked, undoing the button at the collar of Akira’s bartender’s uniform.
“Not much,” Akira pressed his back against the wall, hoping he could somehow sink into it. Why was Uruha asking about fairy tales now?
“What a shame. But, surely you’ve heard of creatures called kitsunes? Yes? The legendary nine-tailed foxes of mythology.”
All Akira could do was nod.
“Well, you see, when a kitsune turns one hundred, they can gain the ability to shapeshift into a human form. Kitsunes do not have regular human names, so when they become human they must create their own human identity. If they so choose, that is.” Another one of Akira’s buttons came undone as Uruha spoke into the crook of his neck in a low sensual voice. “But, you know. Kitsunes don’t start out with nine tails. They have to gain them, and the more tail they have the wiser, stronger, faster, better the kitsune is.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Akira groaned as Uruha shifted his body, brushing their crotches together. He was hard, he knew it, and from what he felt Uruha was as well. It was taking all his restraint not to fuck the raven right there; he wanted an explanation more than sex.
Uruha chuckled, hot breath hitting Akira’s already heated skin. “Come on, Akira. Don’t tell me you’re that dim… Kai and myself… We’re both kitsunes.”
Another button and then another popped open, and Uruha’s hand slipped its way into inside the cotton button-up, brushing lightly against a hard bud. Akira pushed his back harder against the wall in order to stop himself from arching into the touch. “I don’t believe you,” he huffed out.
Uruha chuckled, “I knew you wouldn’t.” Slowly he lightly pinched one of Akira’s nipples between his thumb and index finger, relishing in the choked moan he was able to coax out of the blonde. “But that’s what we are.”
“Prove it,” Akira groaned.
“Oh, but I am.” The bartender could hear the smirk in the raven man’s voice. “You just aren’t looking.”
“Eh?” Akira realized that his eyes were still shut tightly. Slowly he opened them, taking in the sight before him in total shock. Uruha was still occupied at his neck, sucking lightly on the skin as if nothing at all had changed; but it had. Akira could count seven white tipped black fox tails protruding from where any other human’s tail bone would be. He gasped and put his hands on Uruha’s shoulders, pushing him back. “What the hell? How… I don’t… What?” He stammered.
Uruha chuckled and pressed against the blonde again. “Surprised? I would be too if I were you.” Pushing his hand back into Akira’s shirt he began to tease the nipple that’d been neglected before. His pouty lips returned to the bartender’s neck, sucking and licking on the sensitive skin.
Akira moaned gruffly, clenching his hands into tight fists. “But, how is this even possible?”
“Hm… you ask too many questions.” Uruha pulled back and studied Akira’s face for a moment before leaning in and connecting their lips together.
And that’s when Akira lost it. Pulling back with a low growl, he grabbed Uruha’s arms and flipped them around so that the raven was the one pressed against the wall. The taller of the two gasped and chuckled as their positions were switched. Akira pressed hard against the man who’d been sporting seven tails only a few moments before, making sure it was clear how hard he was. He could feel Uruha’s bulging member through those ridiculously tight jeans and he moaned as he pushed his hips forward, grinding his erection against the kitsune’s. Uruha didn’t protest either. Instead, he participated actively, following Akira’s lead as their clothed bulges rubbed together.
Uruha moaned lewdly as Akira pressed him further into the wall, and when his head tipped back the bartender took the opportunity to ravage the exposed skin of his neck. Grunts left Akira’s throat as a brought a hand up to caress over the kitsune’s clothed nipple. He was pleasantly surprised when a rather loud moan left Uruha’s swollen lips.
Akira dropped his hands and slid them underneath Uruha’s thighs, lifting him up so that his full weight was supported by Akira and the wall. The raven wrapped his legs around the bartender’s waist and rolled his hips forward in an expert manner, bringing forth a low grunt from the other man. Akira stooped his head down and licked one of the hardened nubs under the crimson material. Uruha arched, moaning again as he brought his hands up and tangled his fingers into Akira’s, very styled, spiked hair.
“Mm… Oh, fuck,” Uruha breathed as Akira brushed his teeth over the nipple.
“Akira?” A faint voice called from the other side of the door.
Suddenly, the blonde bartender came back to reality and pulled back, setting the raven back on his own two feet. “Shit, shit, shit,” he chanted as he tried to straighten out his dishevelled hair and button up his shirt. He saw Uruha doing the same, but with much less urgency.
The back door opened and Yutaka stepped outside, concern evident all over his kind features, “Akira, is everything ok? You were gone for a long time.”
“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Yutaka. Uruha and I were just talking.”
Yutaka looked down at his feet and mumbled, “You called him Uruha… So you know.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Akira nodded, “I do. But that doesn’t change things between us, ok? You’re still my friend, no matter what.” The blonde crossed the ally to stand in front of his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, Yutaka?”
“Why aren’t you calling me Kai? You called him Uruha,” Yutaka almost whimpered.
Akira smiled, “Because, to me, you’ll always be Yutaka.”
The young brunette looked up at Akira with bright eyes and a big smile across his face, the one Akira had grown so used to after years of working with the bubbly man. Yutaka threw his arms around his co-worker’s neck and hugged him tight, “Thank you so much Akira!”
“Well isn’t that cute?” A bitter voice sounded from beside the embracing pair. They let go of each other and spotted Uruha walking past them. “I really don’t understand why you’re so fond of humans, Kai. They’re not worth the time,” he threw the comment over his shoulder as he walked back into the bar.
They both looked after Yutaka’s older brother as he disappeared back inside. Suddenly the smaller bartender turned to his friend and pulled out a little black pouch, sliding it into Akira’s palm. When the blonde frowned at Yutaka questioningly the brunette explained, “I took this out of his jacket inside, so it won’t be long before he notices, make sure you listen.” Yutaka took a deep breath. “Kitsunes have this thing called a star ball. It’s a stupid name, I know, I didn’t make it up. But it’s basically our life force. If you have a kitsune’s star ball you basically have control over them, they’ll do anything you want. In there,” - Yutaka pointed to the pouch - “Is my brother’s star ball… Uruha is here to kill me.” Akira opened his mouth to speak but the brunette held up a hand and stopped him, “Be quiet and listen. I need your help. He knows that, even if I have his life force, I couldn’t hurt him even if I wanted to. But I know that, if it came down to the wire, you could do it. But I’m not asking you to hurt him at all, just hang onto that. As long as you have his star ball and forbid him from coming near me, Uruha can’t lay one finger on me. Do you understand?”
Akira stared at his friend. He had no reason to not believe Yutaka because he could tell that the brunette was telling the truth. Slowly, Akira nodded his head and slid the pouch into the pocket of his jeans.
“You have to keep it with you at all times. Got it?” Yutaka pressed. “If he gets hold of it again, he will kill you, Akira.”
“I understand,” Akira said reassuringly. “But, Yutaka?”
“Yeah?” His friend looked up at him.
“Are you really over a hundred years old?”
Yutaka chuckled and hit Akira on the arm lightly. “Yes. Actually, I’m three hundred and eighty-six,” the brunette said as if it was the most natural, normal thing in the world. He laughed loudly as he saw his friends jaw drop.
Suddenly a loud crash followed by an angered scream echoed from inside the bar. Yutaka whimpered and skittered behind Akira who tensed, putting his hand on the pouch in his pocket. He wasn’t afraid to die protecting his friend. And, if what Yutaka said was true, Uruha wouldn’t go near them as long as he had the star ball. The back door flung open, hitting the brick wall hard and caused the stone to crack outwards in a spider web kind of effect. Akira gulped; Uruha looked beyond pissed.
“Kai, you little shit!” Uruha bellowed, stepping forward into the ally. “Where the hell is my star ball?!”
Next Chapter
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A/N: So, a new story. I was going to wait a bit before posting this seeing as I only just posted chapter 6 to TLIPO. But my impatient personality couldn't wait. I bet no one was expecting a supernatural fic! ^_^ This one is also beta'd by the incredible krasivayadusha. So a huge thanks to her <3 <3
I've wanted to write a supernatural fic for a while but I felt like vampires and werewolves are done so often (not that I have any problem with that) and there are lots of ways you can go wrong with them because there are so many out there. But, I thought, seeing as the GazettE are a Japanese band, in Japan, why not do something to with Japanese folklore/mythology. I actually did a lot of research for this. None of the stuff I put in there is made up by me, like the one hundred years thing and the star ball. That's all from doing research.
The title itself is kind of like a metaphor, I guess. It refers to the star ball which is like the heart of a kitsune. If you stab someone in the heart, they'll die and if you break a kitsune's star ball they'll die. So that's what the title means. It might have a bit of a double meaning later as well.
Anyway, I'll stop rambling. I really hope you all enjoy this story. I know it was heaps of fun for me to write. I can tell it'll be a good one :) <3