little wishes 13
Title: Little Wishes
chapter: 13/20
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: KiritoXAiji, TadashiXRyutaro, minor: KiritoXKohta, Kirito X Asagi
Bands: main: Pierrot, Plastic Tree. Minor: Ka-yu (Janne da Arc), Dir en Grey, Asagi(D)
Warning: Language, abuse, sex, blow jobs, insanity, dictators, blood, asphyxiation
Disclaimer: I do not own these people and nothing is real...
Synopsis: Kirito’s a twisted dictator, straddling the line between insanity and debauchery. Tadashi’s leads the hope for the rebel forces, and with his own personal vendetta to take down Kirito will his plans work or will he become just another follower?
This chapter: Meeting with Kaoru was Tadashi’s first mistake that tipped off Kirito to his true reasons for being there. To scare any more ideas from his head Tadashi is taken to see what Kirito’s idea of interrogation means. And Aiji talks with Asagi.
A big thanks to: vampire_kiki
X posting: kiritoxaiji
Previous: 1, 2, 3 4 5a, 5B, 6, 7, 8 9, 10 11 12
This chapter has Hibiki singer of Calmando Qual. Please check out here and here. and support him here.
“A room with a view please,” Tadashi spoke the vague reference needed to perk the hostess interest to why he was really there.
Today marked his second week in Kirito’s Japan, and his first meeting with Kaoru. It was the pink haired male that chose the meeting location, a brothel in the red light district. He figured that even if Tadashi was being trailed it would be the least suspicious place of the locations they held.
“Right this way, sir.”
Tadashi followed the traditionally dressed hostess through the various rooms. The brothel stood out from the other’s for its pure essence of tradition Japanese architecture. Wooden floors, rice paper walls, and traditional dressed whores; it filled that small niche of people that wanted to hark back to ancient times. She stood outside one of the rooms and opened the panel.
“Would you like one of our girls to dine with you?” She spoke the vague reference. "I can bring the menu for you to pick from.”
“No, just tea.”
She nodded, sliding back the door to the room and dashing off to fetch the tea, Tadashi took off his shoes leaving outside on the wooden deck. The chill of the winter’s evening clung to him, and even as he slid the door back to the tatami lined room he felt a shiver from the cold. Settling along one the side walls, he waited for the girl to return. When she did she brought with her a tray; a heavy cast iron teapot rested on equally heavy warming pot. She took of the lid to the warming vessel, lighted the candle, and placed the lid back on it along with the tea pot on top of it all. The warmed from the small candle would light the iron top warming both that and pot that rested on top. With all the set up completed, she walked off, sliding the door shut behind her.
“Are you there?” Kaoru’s voice came clear through the thin walls.
“Yes.”
The door between the two rooms slid open, but only to allow their voices to come easily come in whispers. They sat opposite each other in their own little room, pretending as if nothing was going on. It would be easy if someone walked in to silent shut the crack of an opening between them and pretend that nothing was amiss.
“How are things?”
“Fine.”
“Hard to believe it’s been two weeks already.”
Days collided in a blur for Tadashi and two weeks seemed like nothing but a scandalous act in a limo and Kirito’s angry rage in his office. He bought his hands to burring them in his face, for if two weeks had passed it meant that only two weeks remained. In that time he needed to finished his real reason for coming. It seemed too short, too short to live for just another fourteen days.
“It’s been fine.”
“Fruitful, I hope as well?” Kaoru asked, eyebrow raised.
Reaching into his pocked, Tadashi pulled out a small disk in a plastic casing. He leaned over propping the disk against the opening, before it disappeared into Kaoru’s grasp. During that small pause Tadashi pour his tea, figuring if anything could warm up this evening it would be that.
“It’s mostly supply trains, but I also managed to hold of a military map,” the blood took a sip from the cup, already feeling the warming effects. “Who knows how long it will remain that way, but surely not too many troop can be shuffled around in my remaining time.”
Kaoru grinned happy the other’s thoughts were on the less glamorous cause of his stay, “Good. Have you found a good time to carry out the other part of our plan? We have to develop some kind of plan.”
“There’s talk of a hot spring visit that might be the best place, depending on the number of guards he takes.” Tadashi took a sip from his cup, “I’m sure they’re let a French officer tag along on this very Japanese excursion.”
“We’ll have to discuss this more at the next meeting.”
“Yes,” Tadashi’s voice stuck cold to the other.
“Before I go, Jun wanted met to give you this.”
The blond looked towards the crack in the door, a yellow envelope rested there. He took the envelope in hand, door slapping shut and foot steps leading away clearly heard as Kaoru walked off.
Tadashi opened the package, undoing the seal and sliding out the papers all at once. Paging through them, a smile appeared on his face, for he quickly realized what there were. Drawings, dozens of them, and that scrawling hand was Ryutaro. He took a minute to look at each one, catching a few words here and there, but in the end they were of nothing. He had seen Ryutaro’s drawing so often at home, but these were clear message of his longing for the other to return. They were both together in most, Jun and Toshiya even appeared in a few. What struck him as a little odd was Ryutaro’s lack of purple, usually the sky was purple, the ground purple, and the only way to tell them apart from the back ground of purple were the black outlines. This work contained no such hue.
Pushing his emotions aside for a moment, Tadashi went back to the neatly typed up Helvetica letter at the start of the little portfolio. He read each line, a medical log of Ryutaro’s condition, told by Dr. Takeo in what had to be the most emotionless report Tadashi ever saw. Details like Ryutaro’s screaming so much in the night he wasn’t able to speak the next day, or how he now needed to be tied to the bed at night, were told as if his lover was nothing more than some grand study. His emotions broke half way through, heart wrenching he his doubled over onto the floor, for this little package spoke of nothing but the proof of his abandonment, his neglect of his lover and each promise they held together.
No, I’ve broken it. I’ve broken every promise I made to him. He told himself, sending tears down his face.
Tadashi laid there on the cold floor for several minutes, too caught in his own loop of emotions to do anything more. Time passed slowly, and eventually he swallowed each and every hateful thought he told himself. He swallowed the images of Ryutaro no longer keeping up the fight to maintain himself. He became the perfect reflection of his sickness, a madness brought on by Kirito’s forces. Now, he realized exactly what him being him meant. He was the beacon for Ryutaro to latch on, a base to come back to, a reason to hold himself in the world.
“I was wrong to leave him,” Tadashi spoke aloud.
Slowly he regained himself, and looked down at the papers before him. Taking the teapot of the stand, and letting the warmed metal lid touch his skin he took off the metal plate. Exposing the candle below, he took that neatly type letter along with the first of the drawings and hand. Holding them to the flame he watched as they burned.
***
Kirito let out a peaceful sigh happy to be home from a day of work. Making his way to the pet’s lounge he sat down on the empty sofa. Aiji was there too, yet, he didn’t look up when Kirito walked in; instead he looked at the markings on his knuckles, pretending to be enthralled by them.
“Aiji, come here,” Kirito called out patting the empty space of next to him.
The auburn haired looked up biting his lip at the other’s request, but went none the less, sitting perhaps a bit too far away considering that they were lovers. Kirito had no adverse reaction to events that he had with Asagi. He didn’t ask why the male was gone for those few days and never talked to him about the events.
Aiji came sitting beside him on the sofa, a little further away for Kirito’s liking.
“Here rest your head on my lap, Aiji,” he called out.
Aiji followed the order, folding his arms and placing his head on the other’s lap. He flinched as Kirito brought his hand down to stoke the other’s hair, muscles tensing as he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the other. Aiji was still clearly shaken by the horror show he saw days ago, yet Kirito never picked up on them. Even now as he so lovingly stroked his fingers through Aiji’s hair he didn’t care for the reason why each time he brought his hand down the other tensed.
“You need to relax precious.”
Aiji nodded at the other’s words, yet he couldn’t do as ordered. The days were hard, nights harder as Kirito would snuggle against him, kissing his neck in the most loving away. Each kind gesture made Aiji want to scream that much more, for yes that was the Kirito he knew, but his image of him became perverted. He was now the Kirito that could easily spill Asagi’s blood on the bed, choking him until he passed out and sending him to the hospital.
Kirito’s hand went down to the other’s back. Humming, he rubbed the muscles there trying to get them to relax.
“That hot spring will be a good idea for you. Lately you’ve been so on edge.”
Aiji bit his lip, eyes squeezing out a tear. He hardly talking to Kirito, and the other didn’t seem to notice. He was completely oblivious to everything his actions caused. Asagi come back from the hospital today, and was reading in his room, but he didn’t care to go to him and has him how he was. The days he was gone he didn’t ask Kai where the raven haired male wondered off to. He didn’t make the connection that Aiji was hurt because of what he witness, not it was like that moment was a dreams, fake and unreal, something not to be discussed.
The event woke Aiji up though. His dreams of home were more vivid, and he realized once more that this was not where he belonged. Each time he closed his eyes memories of his real home came flooding back, each more vivid than the last. He no longer wanted this fantasy, the mundane life he had didn’t seem so bad after all. Still a voice reminded him that back there no one loved him, no one would hold him so tenderly like Kirito did. No one would care that his muscles were tense or would take him to a hot spring, even if they were for old men.
“I’m so glad you here, you know Aiji.” Such tender words did not shadow that laugh that echoed in Aiji’s mind.
The door to the room clicked opened, but Kirito didn’t look up, didn’t care to do anything but run his hands down Aiji back, again trying to calm him lover that seemed so frantic recently. Sliding his hand under the other’s shirt, figuring the extra pressure might help. The other’s tensed anyway.
“Relax.”
And he began to massage his lower back kneading and pressing his fingers into his skin, so lovingly, and calm. He continued to whisper sweet things of nothing and somehow Aiji found himself relaxing, for he wanted to forget that night and in this moment it seemed to go away. Focusing on the ginger pressure of the other’s hand down his back, and the sweet whispered words of reassurance, he found himself completely at ease.
“Ka-yu?” Kirito raised an eyebrow at the guest that sat opposite him. He had been looking bored for the past few minutes, but didn’t speak up.
He gulped, “Leader-sama, I know you don’t like discussing work matters at home.”
“Hmm that’s right I don’t.”
“But you requested that if Tadashi did anything suspicious to tell you right away.”
“Oh what has our little French officer done now?” Kirito grinned.
During this whole time, he continued to message Aiji, the other finally relaxing enough to accept his touches. He watched wicked as Ka-yu tired not to glace at what he was doing, surely hoping he wouldn’t do anything more. It made him almost want to force Aiji to go down on him, yet at the same time it didn’t seem worth it. No, this was Aiji there was no reason to use him like that.
“Tadashi went to a brothel, one that we’ve suspected to be a meeting place for Jun’s forces for awhile now.”
“Ah, then I can only assume he didn’t request a whore?”
Ka-yu nodded, “Exactly. We questioned the staff after he left, but they weren’t much help. They said he got some tea and nothing else. On our way out though, one of the officer’s reported that the kitchen maid had something useful.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The maid said the tea top had something unusual mixed in with the leaves, dirt or something similar.”
“Plans maybe?”
“It’s hard to say exactly. How would you like to proceed from here?”
“That’s a good question isn’t it…” He trailed off in thought for a moment, hands still underneath Aiji’s shirt working more on his hips now. “Take him down to visit the integration rooms.”
Ka-yu looked at him curiously, “Do you want someone to question anything?”
“No, just show him how I interrogate those that I find out to be terrorist,” a grin crossed his face and he let out a small chuckle, sending Aiji’s muscles to naturally tense again. “Oh it’s okay Aiji.”
Ka-yu stood, “We’ll have it done tomorrow.”
“Good.”
Ka-yu said his good bye apology again for disturbing Kirito at home, before walking out the door. Kirito let his hand go back to stroking Aiji’s hair for a few more tender minutes, but after that he shifted his legs, singling for Aiji to sit up. He looked the other in the eyes, he looked horrible. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and even then they were red and blood shot, Kirito could only imagine they were from him crying, for what reason he didn’t know.
What I do with Asagi is no concern of his, Kirito thought reassuring himself.
He put his hands on the other’s cheek, thumb stroking the pale skin. Leaving forward he captured the other’s lips in a chaste kiss, as if hoping that would calm him.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Aiji. Please never leave me again.”
Kirito lingered for a few minutes, gently kissing Aiji on his forehead, checks, before leaving to take a shower with one last sensual kiss. All his love poured into that tender meeting lips, so gently in fact that Aiji nearly forgot what he saw and let a tiny moan resonate in the back of his throat; small, quite, but enough to stratify Kirito into leaving him alone.
Aiji let out a sigh feeling as if he held no control of his body’s reaction. Leaning back on sofa, he stared up to Asagi’s door. The other returned today from his hospital stay earlier today, and Aiji hadn’t spoken to him yet. He felt that he wronged him somehow, for he only sat there watching as Kirito did those things. He was helpless and couldn’t save him. Eventually, he got up shuffling his felt to the door, figuring it was best to greet him now as during dinner with both he and Kirito there would probably just make him feel worse.
He knocked.
“Come in,” Asagi called.
Aiji opened the door, eyes looking upon Asagi for the first time since he passed out in Kohta’s arms. Now he looked healthy enough, flipping through a magazine as he leisurely laid on his bed, wrist still looking painfully raw. He wore a dark blue yukata loose around him. One leg stretched out over the slit showed the markings of what Aiji witness, for he could clearly see the edge of his gauze covered upper leg. The auburn haired couldn’t go any further than the threshold of the door, digging his thumb into the painted wood.
He finally spoke, eyes fixed on the small chip he created on the paint, “I heard you got stitches.”
“Fifteen, exactly,” Asagi correct, a lingering pride in voice that made the other cringe.
Silence flooded the room, as Asagi stared watching the other continued to dig into his door frame. He couldn’t really blame him though, remembering flashes of the other crying while Kirito pleased him. He understood how someone outside of those fetish kinks would find what they did far from pleasure inducing. Aiji was disturbed, and deeply from what he saw, and Asagi could feel the tiniest hint of guilt, because in the end he put Kirito in that rage. If he let him be, if he didn’t agitated, if he didn’t care how lovingly Kirito would touch Aiji, then the auburn haired wouldn’t have seen that side of his lover.
“Here sit down.”
Again Aiji followed the other order, sitting beside the other on the bed. Getting a better view of his banged thigh, Asagi shifted, yukata falling to expose more of his both his leg and one shoulder. Black hair now tickling him, Asagi pushed it back over his shoulder absentmindedly. The action, however, struck Aiji, for now without the hindrance of hair the burses left by Kirito’s assault on Asagi’s neck by that rope were clearly visible. Aiji hand reached out almost instinctively as if the rope was still there, as if he could help him now.
“Did it hurt?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your neck, your wrist…everything” he whispered head falling only to see Asagi’s leg, “It all looks so painful.”
Asagi laughed, “Aiji, I enjoyed everything Kirito did. Surely you saw how hard I was.”
He shook his head as if trying to shake out the memories, hand forming into a fist against the mattress.
“But he sent you to the hospital,” Aiji said as if to reassure himself that it couldn’t be true, that no one could feel pleasure from that. “You were under observation for three days. You had to get stitches. I heard Kai talking that they even gave you blood because you lost so much.”
Asagi just shook his head at the other’s concerns, “It wasn’t the first time this happened and it sure as hell won’t be the last.”
“How can you say that so easily…” Aiji voiced trailed off into a whisper.
It was easier when I didn’t feel guilty about him.. Asagi thought to himself. He looks so pitiful like that, near tears at the memories he skewed.
“I need to change these bandages.” Asagi changed topic pointing to the bag in question. “The stuffs in the bag the hospital gave me over there,”
Aiji got up finding the bag and handing it to Asagi. He stood beside the bed watching Asagi prop himself up on his pillows and exposing more of his leg to tug off the gauze that secured his bandage in place. He unraveled the covering, roiling it up for easy use later; all of that to hold tight the large bandage tape to his skin. It covered from his inner thigh to near knee, looking like the bandages of war. Scarping the tape off was an easy chore, but when he unveiled the bandage Aiji bit his lip. It seeped orange from the disinfected, then Aiji looked towards the leg. The lines drawn into his leg seemed as fresh as when he saw Kirito dug them; black stitches closed the deeper cuts such that they looked like sea urchin in a red tide.
“Look Aiji,” Asagi did not point the cuts, nor the eight stitches in his leg, or even the scars from past treatments, but to the tattoo they both shared. “Every time I see this,” his flingers lightly lingered on the symbols, “It fills me with pride. I know that I belong to Kirito that he will always be there for me. I knew the rumors when I walked into that tent and got on me knees. I wanted this Aiji. I wanted to be with him in this way.”
“Aren’t you worried that one day he’ll go too far. You passed out and didn’t wake up until you were in the hospital.”
“I trust him Aiji.” His words held nothing but sincerity. “I trust him with me life.”
He shook his head, “I don’t think I could let him do that.”
“You don’t enjoy this,” he gestured to his the marked legs. Then begin to rummaging back through to bag. “Kirito doesn’t expect you to. That’s why I’m here, to quench that part of him, which you cannot. He hasn’t had sex with you since he was with me, yes?”
Aiji shook his head. It was true and he was thankful for it.
“And he was started to get rough with you, pulling your hair not bothering to prepare you properly.”
Again Aiji nodded.
“Then it worked,” he said almost happily. “I took care of those more kinky things he wants to do, and you get the Kirito you’re use to.”
Finding the bottle of disincentive he squeezed it onto a cloth and then onto his wounds. No grimace passed his face from the sting Aiji knew was there, which told Aiji that he was use to that, use to methodic cleaning of wounds and, to everything that Kirito did to him. Checking his memory he realized he never saw Kirito kissed him tenderly, or even hug the other male. Aiji bit his lip now feeling a new pain for Asagi, anguishing no loner that he watched helplessly but that he got the tender side of Kirito that he never did.
“Do you mind that he never does…” his question trailed off into nothingness, but as he finished cleaning his redding wound up he knew clearly what the other meant.
He huffed, “It’s the way it is. There’s no reason that you should feel guilty about it.”
Aiji let that last statement plummet the room in silence, sans the rustle as Asagi searched for a new bandage. He realized that he might not fully understand how Asagi could derive pleasure from the horror show he saw, but he understood what he felt for Kirito. More though he understood the crude words and asking about what he did with Kirito was the other’s way of living through him, getting those tender feelings somehow, for even now Kirito wasn’t helping to bandage him up something he would surely do if it was him. Kai wasn’t even in here, assuming the dark haired male could take care of the issue himself as well.
“Let me help,” Aiji offered, taking the bandage.
Asagi nodded hand reaching out to squeeze the other’s lightly.
“You don’t have to worry about Kirito ever doing this to you,” the words came out almost painfully, but Asagi knew that he was lying, reassuring the other in the false reality he told him. Though, it didn’t mater, for once the other knew his lie it would be already too late.
***
Snow covered the city in deep blanket of white, and each glittering flake that still fell reminded Tadashi of Ryutaro. How his lover enjoyed the snow, wanting nothing more than to escape into it, become one with it. This, of course was done without shoes or any kind of protection against the cold. The blond smiled faintly at the thought. Somehow, the distance between the memory and now seemed to grave. Though at the time he was far happy to see his lover’s feet blue, now he could smile at the thought. He hugged his blue tartan scarf tightly around him, gloved hand plunging deeper into jacket pockets. The cold did well to numb his nerves, for Ka-yu suggested he see the interrogation basement with an intonation in the militant voice that clearly told Tadashi that this was far from a friendly request.
It put him on edge. After all he met with Kaoru the night before. He was careful, burning the evidence and hiding the ashes in the tea pot with the leaves.
Maybe I should’ve asked for some company after all. I knew they were trailing me. It might’ve been the best idea, Tadashi though. Though, instead of being sent to the basement for a viewing Kirito would’ve probably made me fuck Asagi. I was careful though, there’s no evidence against me, and the file I copied are nothing to start an international crises over.
Opening the door into the building, Tadashi’s glasses fogged up. He took them off, getting a blurred view of the familiar surrounding of a police station, desk strewn about, papers topping of each one. Cleaning his frames with the end of his scarf, his worry seemed to come off as well. He put his glasses back on now able to make out a brunet officer in the corner, legs propped up on his table, looking through a file. He noticed Tadashi he called out, and a short blond popped out from behind half-wall holding a cup of coffee.
“Tadashi?” He asked.
The taller blond nodded, watching as the other came over and held out his free hand. He was in uniform, red armband, hat, boots and all. Hair spiked out and darkened eyes made Tadashi feel a bit out of place in his black jeans and striped sweater shirt over his coat. He shook the other’s extended hand, watching as he put the half empty coffee down on a desk.
“I’m Ruki,” he sniffed, “Ka-yu said to show you the basement.”
Tadashi nodded, taking off his scarf, but stopped once Ruki motioned to him, “You might want to keep that on. It’s not like we heat that place.”
With scarf placed back around his neck, Tadashie followed Ruki as he grabbed his coat from the back of a chair. He gave the brunet in the corner a small wave before heading through a pair of steel doors.
“Five flights down,” he said already feeling it, but it was quicker to use the front entry than taking Tadashi outside to use the back.
Starting their decent Tadashi noticed the difference in temperature right away. This time only one lens fogged up; he chose ignored it. By the third flight their breath lingered in water droplets above them, showing each deep exhale. Ruki continued mumbling on about something, his day, the weather, general conversation, and Tadashi gave the nods and appropriate standard replies, but his mind always fell back to Ryutaro. For it was here in this basement that he was taken and under these people’s hands that he was brought to madness. And here he was send to witness the horrors.
“The basement is where the keep the worse; the ones that the police would question but not have enough evidence to do anything more. We find that the police are too nice to these guys and we take them into our own hands.”
Tadashi mumbled something, tensing a bit. After all, he was one of those guys that were ‘too nice’ not that he had any connection with turning people over to this building. No he was just an average cop, walking around, helping people with minor problems. He never realized that the happy façade was held up by Kirito’s militant force.
“Finally.” Ruki hopped the last step, punching in the code to open the steel door.
Inside a long hallway with metal doors, stood mundane in the grant scheme of the scary basement. Then that first scream hit Tadashi’s ears, a gurgled cry for mercy and a thrak before a sob. More joined the choirs sobbing, and unacknowledged supplications for it to stop echoing in a sung sonnet. Stepping into the hallway, the smell hit next, a pungent odor of blood, decay and sex. He gagged, coughing, before his senses became so filled by it that they dulled. It became clear that moment that screams and stench did enough to decorate the hallways, for no one would mistake it as a mundane office hall.
“The basement is really for the best Kirito has. I-uh usually work higher up you know. We’ll watch Kyo, he’s our second best.” Ruki stated walking down the hall before opening a door and letting Tadashi stepping in.
No one was there, but inside the dimly lit room of white and black titled room stood a claw foot tub. Taking a step closer Tadashi saw that it was filled with water and ice cubes. Staring, his memory flashed back to Ryutaro and how scared he became with even the smallest amount of collected water.
“Each of the room has a different technique.”
Tadashi grew with disgust, “Technique?”
“Yeah this one’s drowning. There’s another one for sticking rods in them, and another for flog-”
“It’s been proven that information given when the subject is under stress isn’t trustworthy.” Tadashi cut Ruki’s list short, yet still managed to choose his words carefully as the door opened.
Kyo laughed, “You think I actually give a crap if this bastard says anything useful.”
Tadashi looked down towards this new short blond. Shirtless, scratched up a bit himself, his hair stuck out of his head and strange look lingered in his eyes. He led his prisoner in by the base of the neck. The captive arms where tied behind his back, hands cuffed together with mittens taped on. A black drawstring bag was tied over his head, combined it meant he could neither see nor feel what was around him.
“Kyo’s into sensory depurative. His ears plugs in too,” Ruki informed.
“It drives them mad after a few days,” Kyo laughed kicking the captive’s legs behind his knees. He fell, knocking against the edge of the tub. He laughed again, giving him another swift kick. He looked towards Tadashi grinning, “Shall we get this started?”
Kyo took the other’s neck and held him down by his hands. Stepping over his legs to get the best leverage, he dunked his head into the frigid water. Tadashi watched as he held him there under the water before pulling him back up. The cloth bag stuck to his face like a second skin and first the first time Tadashi could clearly make out his features, eyes, nose, mouth opened in a wheeze. Yet, before he could think the captive’s head was plunged back the water again. He struggled more this time trashing his head this way and that, trying to snake his body free from Kyo’s grasp but a shift elbow to his spine stopped the bucking movements.
“Why-why isn’t he saying anything?”
Kyo grinned, “He’s gagged, makes the water rush into his lugs that much quicker.”
They really are trying to drown him. They don't give a fuck what he says, Tadashi thought. Or that he might be innocent.
The scene continued as such, Tadashi shaking his head. Fighting the urge to help, to punch Kyo in the face and set the captive free, he knew better and just stared at his feet. With each frantic splash the room seemed to dip in temperature, getting colder and colder with each sharp gasp for eat and cough that only send the wet sack around the other’s head closer to his skin. Tadashi closed his eyes, feeling like he on a vast frozen lake, the center of hell, where all heat and love vanished and people willing ate echother’s brains.
“What’s the point? Why-why don’t you just kill him,” Tadashi finally asked voice low, shaking.
“He’s an example,” Kyo spoke. “If we can get him fucked up enough then release him. His little terrorist buddies see what we’re willing to do and will think twice about planning something again.”
“Kyo’s pretty good at not killing them,” Ruki added. “Hibiki is the one that sometimes get’s carried away, but he’s only given the worse. So it doesn’t matter.”
The tallest blond watched again as Kyo placed the captive’s head back into the water, this time he didn’t struggle, having passed out. Kyo rolled his eyes pulling the other up and slapping his face awake.
“I’m not done with you!” He yelled frustrated when the other didn’t come too right away. He drew his fist back, punching the other, in the head. This did the trick; he coughed, only to be shoved back into the water.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Tadashi moved to the far corner, coughing furiously but nothing more.
“Here, let’s get you some air.”
“Bye Tadashi, hope to see you again soon,” Kyo laughed continued as the door closed behind the two.
Tadashi stood outside the room for a minute, trying to his breathing under control. He closed his eyes breathing in through his mouth and out his nose, it did well to help mask that smell his thoughts bled red with pain and anger.
“We’ll go through the back. There’s an elevator that way.” Ruki suggested starting back down the hall once the other looked ready.
As the walked that pungent smell only grew worse, and Tadashi gagged one more as the strangling scent. Looking up from his fit, he saw the devil. No, that couldn’t be right, but yet it seemed to fit. It was a male dressed in red with a golden stripped vest. His black hair fuzzed out around him like a lion’s mane. Small red horns peaked out on top of his head, and Tadashi stopped, watching the other’s approach. The smell of death lingered on him and Tadashi became trapped in his eyes. They were missing, or rather covered up in a completely white contact. There was nothing to behold, no black spot to establish sight, as he effortless reached into pocket lighting up a cigarette like any normal day. As the other took the few steps to drew closer than past him Tadashi shook with fear for within those blank eyes he saw him. He saw Tadashi for what he really was, for what he was going to do, and already grinned knowing exactly what he would do to him.
“Who-who,” the blond managed to get out.
“Hibiki.”
By then they reached the elevator, Ruki with a grin on his face, for he knew that there was one more stop on this little tour of the basement. The ding singled their floor and they both got out, Ruki motioning to the door leading outside. It was the back of the building what would be a garden if it wasn’t covered in snow, yet it still flowered, for prisons barely clothed dotted the landscape, guards here and there making sure they didn’t move.
“It’s their relief.”
“Hyperthermia in the snow?” Tadashi shook his head, eyes closing the site, too much to look at.
“It numbs them you see. They can’t feel the hits for a few hours after they’re done here. They enjoy it, this time when they’re not throttled.”
“Why? This-this is all atrocious. All of it is.”
“It’s a warning, Tadashi,” Ruki glared up to the blond who eyes glistened with a new sheen “Kirito created a utopia here in Japan. No one has to worry about war, or food like before. Anyone that wants to destroy it deserves the very worse Hibiki could think of. And they will. He might kill them more than all of us combined, but the ones he gets deserver to suffer. I can hear their screams in my office, Tadashi. Hear their scream as Hibiki skins them alive.”
__-
End! There are only 7 more chapters to go. What do you think? I love comments they make me so happy!
chapter: 13/20
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: KiritoXAiji, TadashiXRyutaro, minor: KiritoXKohta, Kirito X Asagi
Bands: main: Pierrot, Plastic Tree. Minor: Ka-yu (Janne da Arc), Dir en Grey, Asagi(D)
Warning: Language, abuse, sex, blow jobs, insanity, dictators, blood, asphyxiation
Disclaimer: I do not own these people and nothing is real...
Synopsis: Kirito’s a twisted dictator, straddling the line between insanity and debauchery. Tadashi’s leads the hope for the rebel forces, and with his own personal vendetta to take down Kirito will his plans work or will he become just another follower?
This chapter: Meeting with Kaoru was Tadashi’s first mistake that tipped off Kirito to his true reasons for being there. To scare any more ideas from his head Tadashi is taken to see what Kirito’s idea of interrogation means. And Aiji talks with Asagi.
A big thanks to: vampire_kiki
X posting: kiritoxaiji
Previous: 1, 2, 3 4 5a, 5B, 6, 7, 8 9, 10 11 12
This chapter has Hibiki singer of Calmando Qual. Please check out here and here. and support him here.
“A room with a view please,” Tadashi spoke the vague reference needed to perk the hostess interest to why he was really there.
Today marked his second week in Kirito’s Japan, and his first meeting with Kaoru. It was the pink haired male that chose the meeting location, a brothel in the red light district. He figured that even if Tadashi was being trailed it would be the least suspicious place of the locations they held.
“Right this way, sir.”
Tadashi followed the traditionally dressed hostess through the various rooms. The brothel stood out from the other’s for its pure essence of tradition Japanese architecture. Wooden floors, rice paper walls, and traditional dressed whores; it filled that small niche of people that wanted to hark back to ancient times. She stood outside one of the rooms and opened the panel.
“Would you like one of our girls to dine with you?” She spoke the vague reference. "I can bring the menu for you to pick from.”
“No, just tea.”
She nodded, sliding back the door to the room and dashing off to fetch the tea, Tadashi took off his shoes leaving outside on the wooden deck. The chill of the winter’s evening clung to him, and even as he slid the door back to the tatami lined room he felt a shiver from the cold. Settling along one the side walls, he waited for the girl to return. When she did she brought with her a tray; a heavy cast iron teapot rested on equally heavy warming pot. She took of the lid to the warming vessel, lighted the candle, and placed the lid back on it along with the tea pot on top of it all. The warmed from the small candle would light the iron top warming both that and pot that rested on top. With all the set up completed, she walked off, sliding the door shut behind her.
“Are you there?” Kaoru’s voice came clear through the thin walls.
“Yes.”
The door between the two rooms slid open, but only to allow their voices to come easily come in whispers. They sat opposite each other in their own little room, pretending as if nothing was going on. It would be easy if someone walked in to silent shut the crack of an opening between them and pretend that nothing was amiss.
“How are things?”
“Fine.”
“Hard to believe it’s been two weeks already.”
Days collided in a blur for Tadashi and two weeks seemed like nothing but a scandalous act in a limo and Kirito’s angry rage in his office. He bought his hands to burring them in his face, for if two weeks had passed it meant that only two weeks remained. In that time he needed to finished his real reason for coming. It seemed too short, too short to live for just another fourteen days.
“It’s been fine.”
“Fruitful, I hope as well?” Kaoru asked, eyebrow raised.
Reaching into his pocked, Tadashi pulled out a small disk in a plastic casing. He leaned over propping the disk against the opening, before it disappeared into Kaoru’s grasp. During that small pause Tadashi pour his tea, figuring if anything could warm up this evening it would be that.
“It’s mostly supply trains, but I also managed to hold of a military map,” the blood took a sip from the cup, already feeling the warming effects. “Who knows how long it will remain that way, but surely not too many troop can be shuffled around in my remaining time.”
Kaoru grinned happy the other’s thoughts were on the less glamorous cause of his stay, “Good. Have you found a good time to carry out the other part of our plan? We have to develop some kind of plan.”
“There’s talk of a hot spring visit that might be the best place, depending on the number of guards he takes.” Tadashi took a sip from his cup, “I’m sure they’re let a French officer tag along on this very Japanese excursion.”
“We’ll have to discuss this more at the next meeting.”
“Yes,” Tadashi’s voice stuck cold to the other.
“Before I go, Jun wanted met to give you this.”
The blond looked towards the crack in the door, a yellow envelope rested there. He took the envelope in hand, door slapping shut and foot steps leading away clearly heard as Kaoru walked off.
Tadashi opened the package, undoing the seal and sliding out the papers all at once. Paging through them, a smile appeared on his face, for he quickly realized what there were. Drawings, dozens of them, and that scrawling hand was Ryutaro. He took a minute to look at each one, catching a few words here and there, but in the end they were of nothing. He had seen Ryutaro’s drawing so often at home, but these were clear message of his longing for the other to return. They were both together in most, Jun and Toshiya even appeared in a few. What struck him as a little odd was Ryutaro’s lack of purple, usually the sky was purple, the ground purple, and the only way to tell them apart from the back ground of purple were the black outlines. This work contained no such hue.
Pushing his emotions aside for a moment, Tadashi went back to the neatly typed up Helvetica letter at the start of the little portfolio. He read each line, a medical log of Ryutaro’s condition, told by Dr. Takeo in what had to be the most emotionless report Tadashi ever saw. Details like Ryutaro’s screaming so much in the night he wasn’t able to speak the next day, or how he now needed to be tied to the bed at night, were told as if his lover was nothing more than some grand study. His emotions broke half way through, heart wrenching he his doubled over onto the floor, for this little package spoke of nothing but the proof of his abandonment, his neglect of his lover and each promise they held together.
No, I’ve broken it. I’ve broken every promise I made to him. He told himself, sending tears down his face.
Tadashi laid there on the cold floor for several minutes, too caught in his own loop of emotions to do anything more. Time passed slowly, and eventually he swallowed each and every hateful thought he told himself. He swallowed the images of Ryutaro no longer keeping up the fight to maintain himself. He became the perfect reflection of his sickness, a madness brought on by Kirito’s forces. Now, he realized exactly what him being him meant. He was the beacon for Ryutaro to latch on, a base to come back to, a reason to hold himself in the world.
“I was wrong to leave him,” Tadashi spoke aloud.
Slowly he regained himself, and looked down at the papers before him. Taking the teapot of the stand, and letting the warmed metal lid touch his skin he took off the metal plate. Exposing the candle below, he took that neatly type letter along with the first of the drawings and hand. Holding them to the flame he watched as they burned.
***
Kirito let out a peaceful sigh happy to be home from a day of work. Making his way to the pet’s lounge he sat down on the empty sofa. Aiji was there too, yet, he didn’t look up when Kirito walked in; instead he looked at the markings on his knuckles, pretending to be enthralled by them.
“Aiji, come here,” Kirito called out patting the empty space of next to him.
The auburn haired looked up biting his lip at the other’s request, but went none the less, sitting perhaps a bit too far away considering that they were lovers. Kirito had no adverse reaction to events that he had with Asagi. He didn’t ask why the male was gone for those few days and never talked to him about the events.
Aiji came sitting beside him on the sofa, a little further away for Kirito’s liking.
“Here rest your head on my lap, Aiji,” he called out.
Aiji followed the order, folding his arms and placing his head on the other’s lap. He flinched as Kirito brought his hand down to stoke the other’s hair, muscles tensing as he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the other. Aiji was still clearly shaken by the horror show he saw days ago, yet Kirito never picked up on them. Even now as he so lovingly stroked his fingers through Aiji’s hair he didn’t care for the reason why each time he brought his hand down the other tensed.
“You need to relax precious.”
Aiji nodded at the other’s words, yet he couldn’t do as ordered. The days were hard, nights harder as Kirito would snuggle against him, kissing his neck in the most loving away. Each kind gesture made Aiji want to scream that much more, for yes that was the Kirito he knew, but his image of him became perverted. He was now the Kirito that could easily spill Asagi’s blood on the bed, choking him until he passed out and sending him to the hospital.
Kirito’s hand went down to the other’s back. Humming, he rubbed the muscles there trying to get them to relax.
“That hot spring will be a good idea for you. Lately you’ve been so on edge.”
Aiji bit his lip, eyes squeezing out a tear. He hardly talking to Kirito, and the other didn’t seem to notice. He was completely oblivious to everything his actions caused. Asagi come back from the hospital today, and was reading in his room, but he didn’t care to go to him and has him how he was. The days he was gone he didn’t ask Kai where the raven haired male wondered off to. He didn’t make the connection that Aiji was hurt because of what he witness, not it was like that moment was a dreams, fake and unreal, something not to be discussed.
The event woke Aiji up though. His dreams of home were more vivid, and he realized once more that this was not where he belonged. Each time he closed his eyes memories of his real home came flooding back, each more vivid than the last. He no longer wanted this fantasy, the mundane life he had didn’t seem so bad after all. Still a voice reminded him that back there no one loved him, no one would hold him so tenderly like Kirito did. No one would care that his muscles were tense or would take him to a hot spring, even if they were for old men.
“I’m so glad you here, you know Aiji.” Such tender words did not shadow that laugh that echoed in Aiji’s mind.
The door to the room clicked opened, but Kirito didn’t look up, didn’t care to do anything but run his hands down Aiji back, again trying to calm him lover that seemed so frantic recently. Sliding his hand under the other’s shirt, figuring the extra pressure might help. The other’s tensed anyway.
“Relax.”
And he began to massage his lower back kneading and pressing his fingers into his skin, so lovingly, and calm. He continued to whisper sweet things of nothing and somehow Aiji found himself relaxing, for he wanted to forget that night and in this moment it seemed to go away. Focusing on the ginger pressure of the other’s hand down his back, and the sweet whispered words of reassurance, he found himself completely at ease.
“Ka-yu?” Kirito raised an eyebrow at the guest that sat opposite him. He had been looking bored for the past few minutes, but didn’t speak up.
He gulped, “Leader-sama, I know you don’t like discussing work matters at home.”
“Hmm that’s right I don’t.”
“But you requested that if Tadashi did anything suspicious to tell you right away.”
“Oh what has our little French officer done now?” Kirito grinned.
During this whole time, he continued to message Aiji, the other finally relaxing enough to accept his touches. He watched wicked as Ka-yu tired not to glace at what he was doing, surely hoping he wouldn’t do anything more. It made him almost want to force Aiji to go down on him, yet at the same time it didn’t seem worth it. No, this was Aiji there was no reason to use him like that.
“Tadashi went to a brothel, one that we’ve suspected to be a meeting place for Jun’s forces for awhile now.”
“Ah, then I can only assume he didn’t request a whore?”
Ka-yu nodded, “Exactly. We questioned the staff after he left, but they weren’t much help. They said he got some tea and nothing else. On our way out though, one of the officer’s reported that the kitchen maid had something useful.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The maid said the tea top had something unusual mixed in with the leaves, dirt or something similar.”
“Plans maybe?”
“It’s hard to say exactly. How would you like to proceed from here?”
“That’s a good question isn’t it…” He trailed off in thought for a moment, hands still underneath Aiji’s shirt working more on his hips now. “Take him down to visit the integration rooms.”
Ka-yu looked at him curiously, “Do you want someone to question anything?”
“No, just show him how I interrogate those that I find out to be terrorist,” a grin crossed his face and he let out a small chuckle, sending Aiji’s muscles to naturally tense again. “Oh it’s okay Aiji.”
Ka-yu stood, “We’ll have it done tomorrow.”
“Good.”
Ka-yu said his good bye apology again for disturbing Kirito at home, before walking out the door. Kirito let his hand go back to stroking Aiji’s hair for a few more tender minutes, but after that he shifted his legs, singling for Aiji to sit up. He looked the other in the eyes, he looked horrible. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and even then they were red and blood shot, Kirito could only imagine they were from him crying, for what reason he didn’t know.
What I do with Asagi is no concern of his, Kirito thought reassuring himself.
He put his hands on the other’s cheek, thumb stroking the pale skin. Leaving forward he captured the other’s lips in a chaste kiss, as if hoping that would calm him.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Aiji. Please never leave me again.”
Kirito lingered for a few minutes, gently kissing Aiji on his forehead, checks, before leaving to take a shower with one last sensual kiss. All his love poured into that tender meeting lips, so gently in fact that Aiji nearly forgot what he saw and let a tiny moan resonate in the back of his throat; small, quite, but enough to stratify Kirito into leaving him alone.
Aiji let out a sigh feeling as if he held no control of his body’s reaction. Leaning back on sofa, he stared up to Asagi’s door. The other returned today from his hospital stay earlier today, and Aiji hadn’t spoken to him yet. He felt that he wronged him somehow, for he only sat there watching as Kirito did those things. He was helpless and couldn’t save him. Eventually, he got up shuffling his felt to the door, figuring it was best to greet him now as during dinner with both he and Kirito there would probably just make him feel worse.
He knocked.
“Come in,” Asagi called.
Aiji opened the door, eyes looking upon Asagi for the first time since he passed out in Kohta’s arms. Now he looked healthy enough, flipping through a magazine as he leisurely laid on his bed, wrist still looking painfully raw. He wore a dark blue yukata loose around him. One leg stretched out over the slit showed the markings of what Aiji witness, for he could clearly see the edge of his gauze covered upper leg. The auburn haired couldn’t go any further than the threshold of the door, digging his thumb into the painted wood.
He finally spoke, eyes fixed on the small chip he created on the paint, “I heard you got stitches.”
“Fifteen, exactly,” Asagi correct, a lingering pride in voice that made the other cringe.
Silence flooded the room, as Asagi stared watching the other continued to dig into his door frame. He couldn’t really blame him though, remembering flashes of the other crying while Kirito pleased him. He understood how someone outside of those fetish kinks would find what they did far from pleasure inducing. Aiji was disturbed, and deeply from what he saw, and Asagi could feel the tiniest hint of guilt, because in the end he put Kirito in that rage. If he let him be, if he didn’t agitated, if he didn’t care how lovingly Kirito would touch Aiji, then the auburn haired wouldn’t have seen that side of his lover.
“Here sit down.”
Again Aiji followed the other order, sitting beside the other on the bed. Getting a better view of his banged thigh, Asagi shifted, yukata falling to expose more of his both his leg and one shoulder. Black hair now tickling him, Asagi pushed it back over his shoulder absentmindedly. The action, however, struck Aiji, for now without the hindrance of hair the burses left by Kirito’s assault on Asagi’s neck by that rope were clearly visible. Aiji hand reached out almost instinctively as if the rope was still there, as if he could help him now.
“Did it hurt?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your neck, your wrist…everything” he whispered head falling only to see Asagi’s leg, “It all looks so painful.”
Asagi laughed, “Aiji, I enjoyed everything Kirito did. Surely you saw how hard I was.”
He shook his head as if trying to shake out the memories, hand forming into a fist against the mattress.
“But he sent you to the hospital,” Aiji said as if to reassure himself that it couldn’t be true, that no one could feel pleasure from that. “You were under observation for three days. You had to get stitches. I heard Kai talking that they even gave you blood because you lost so much.”
Asagi just shook his head at the other’s concerns, “It wasn’t the first time this happened and it sure as hell won’t be the last.”
“How can you say that so easily…” Aiji voiced trailed off into a whisper.
It was easier when I didn’t feel guilty about him.. Asagi thought to himself. He looks so pitiful like that, near tears at the memories he skewed.
“I need to change these bandages.” Asagi changed topic pointing to the bag in question. “The stuffs in the bag the hospital gave me over there,”
Aiji got up finding the bag and handing it to Asagi. He stood beside the bed watching Asagi prop himself up on his pillows and exposing more of his leg to tug off the gauze that secured his bandage in place. He unraveled the covering, roiling it up for easy use later; all of that to hold tight the large bandage tape to his skin. It covered from his inner thigh to near knee, looking like the bandages of war. Scarping the tape off was an easy chore, but when he unveiled the bandage Aiji bit his lip. It seeped orange from the disinfected, then Aiji looked towards the leg. The lines drawn into his leg seemed as fresh as when he saw Kirito dug them; black stitches closed the deeper cuts such that they looked like sea urchin in a red tide.
“Look Aiji,” Asagi did not point the cuts, nor the eight stitches in his leg, or even the scars from past treatments, but to the tattoo they both shared. “Every time I see this,” his flingers lightly lingered on the symbols, “It fills me with pride. I know that I belong to Kirito that he will always be there for me. I knew the rumors when I walked into that tent and got on me knees. I wanted this Aiji. I wanted to be with him in this way.”
“Aren’t you worried that one day he’ll go too far. You passed out and didn’t wake up until you were in the hospital.”
“I trust him Aiji.” His words held nothing but sincerity. “I trust him with me life.”
He shook his head, “I don’t think I could let him do that.”
“You don’t enjoy this,” he gestured to his the marked legs. Then begin to rummaging back through to bag. “Kirito doesn’t expect you to. That’s why I’m here, to quench that part of him, which you cannot. He hasn’t had sex with you since he was with me, yes?”
Aiji shook his head. It was true and he was thankful for it.
“And he was started to get rough with you, pulling your hair not bothering to prepare you properly.”
Again Aiji nodded.
“Then it worked,” he said almost happily. “I took care of those more kinky things he wants to do, and you get the Kirito you’re use to.”
Finding the bottle of disincentive he squeezed it onto a cloth and then onto his wounds. No grimace passed his face from the sting Aiji knew was there, which told Aiji that he was use to that, use to methodic cleaning of wounds and, to everything that Kirito did to him. Checking his memory he realized he never saw Kirito kissed him tenderly, or even hug the other male. Aiji bit his lip now feeling a new pain for Asagi, anguishing no loner that he watched helplessly but that he got the tender side of Kirito that he never did.
“Do you mind that he never does…” his question trailed off into nothingness, but as he finished cleaning his redding wound up he knew clearly what the other meant.
He huffed, “It’s the way it is. There’s no reason that you should feel guilty about it.”
Aiji let that last statement plummet the room in silence, sans the rustle as Asagi searched for a new bandage. He realized that he might not fully understand how Asagi could derive pleasure from the horror show he saw, but he understood what he felt for Kirito. More though he understood the crude words and asking about what he did with Kirito was the other’s way of living through him, getting those tender feelings somehow, for even now Kirito wasn’t helping to bandage him up something he would surely do if it was him. Kai wasn’t even in here, assuming the dark haired male could take care of the issue himself as well.
“Let me help,” Aiji offered, taking the bandage.
Asagi nodded hand reaching out to squeeze the other’s lightly.
“You don’t have to worry about Kirito ever doing this to you,” the words came out almost painfully, but Asagi knew that he was lying, reassuring the other in the false reality he told him. Though, it didn’t mater, for once the other knew his lie it would be already too late.
***
Snow covered the city in deep blanket of white, and each glittering flake that still fell reminded Tadashi of Ryutaro. How his lover enjoyed the snow, wanting nothing more than to escape into it, become one with it. This, of course was done without shoes or any kind of protection against the cold. The blond smiled faintly at the thought. Somehow, the distance between the memory and now seemed to grave. Though at the time he was far happy to see his lover’s feet blue, now he could smile at the thought. He hugged his blue tartan scarf tightly around him, gloved hand plunging deeper into jacket pockets. The cold did well to numb his nerves, for Ka-yu suggested he see the interrogation basement with an intonation in the militant voice that clearly told Tadashi that this was far from a friendly request.
It put him on edge. After all he met with Kaoru the night before. He was careful, burning the evidence and hiding the ashes in the tea pot with the leaves.
Maybe I should’ve asked for some company after all. I knew they were trailing me. It might’ve been the best idea, Tadashi though. Though, instead of being sent to the basement for a viewing Kirito would’ve probably made me fuck Asagi. I was careful though, there’s no evidence against me, and the file I copied are nothing to start an international crises over.
Opening the door into the building, Tadashi’s glasses fogged up. He took them off, getting a blurred view of the familiar surrounding of a police station, desk strewn about, papers topping of each one. Cleaning his frames with the end of his scarf, his worry seemed to come off as well. He put his glasses back on now able to make out a brunet officer in the corner, legs propped up on his table, looking through a file. He noticed Tadashi he called out, and a short blond popped out from behind half-wall holding a cup of coffee.
“Tadashi?” He asked.
The taller blond nodded, watching as the other came over and held out his free hand. He was in uniform, red armband, hat, boots and all. Hair spiked out and darkened eyes made Tadashi feel a bit out of place in his black jeans and striped sweater shirt over his coat. He shook the other’s extended hand, watching as he put the half empty coffee down on a desk.
“I’m Ruki,” he sniffed, “Ka-yu said to show you the basement.”
Tadashi nodded, taking off his scarf, but stopped once Ruki motioned to him, “You might want to keep that on. It’s not like we heat that place.”
With scarf placed back around his neck, Tadashie followed Ruki as he grabbed his coat from the back of a chair. He gave the brunet in the corner a small wave before heading through a pair of steel doors.
“Five flights down,” he said already feeling it, but it was quicker to use the front entry than taking Tadashi outside to use the back.
Starting their decent Tadashi noticed the difference in temperature right away. This time only one lens fogged up; he chose ignored it. By the third flight their breath lingered in water droplets above them, showing each deep exhale. Ruki continued mumbling on about something, his day, the weather, general conversation, and Tadashi gave the nods and appropriate standard replies, but his mind always fell back to Ryutaro. For it was here in this basement that he was taken and under these people’s hands that he was brought to madness. And here he was send to witness the horrors.
“The basement is where the keep the worse; the ones that the police would question but not have enough evidence to do anything more. We find that the police are too nice to these guys and we take them into our own hands.”
Tadashi mumbled something, tensing a bit. After all, he was one of those guys that were ‘too nice’ not that he had any connection with turning people over to this building. No he was just an average cop, walking around, helping people with minor problems. He never realized that the happy façade was held up by Kirito’s militant force.
“Finally.” Ruki hopped the last step, punching in the code to open the steel door.
Inside a long hallway with metal doors, stood mundane in the grant scheme of the scary basement. Then that first scream hit Tadashi’s ears, a gurgled cry for mercy and a thrak before a sob. More joined the choirs sobbing, and unacknowledged supplications for it to stop echoing in a sung sonnet. Stepping into the hallway, the smell hit next, a pungent odor of blood, decay and sex. He gagged, coughing, before his senses became so filled by it that they dulled. It became clear that moment that screams and stench did enough to decorate the hallways, for no one would mistake it as a mundane office hall.
“The basement is really for the best Kirito has. I-uh usually work higher up you know. We’ll watch Kyo, he’s our second best.” Ruki stated walking down the hall before opening a door and letting Tadashi stepping in.
No one was there, but inside the dimly lit room of white and black titled room stood a claw foot tub. Taking a step closer Tadashi saw that it was filled with water and ice cubes. Staring, his memory flashed back to Ryutaro and how scared he became with even the smallest amount of collected water.
“Each of the room has a different technique.”
Tadashi grew with disgust, “Technique?”
“Yeah this one’s drowning. There’s another one for sticking rods in them, and another for flog-”
“It’s been proven that information given when the subject is under stress isn’t trustworthy.” Tadashi cut Ruki’s list short, yet still managed to choose his words carefully as the door opened.
Kyo laughed, “You think I actually give a crap if this bastard says anything useful.”
Tadashi looked down towards this new short blond. Shirtless, scratched up a bit himself, his hair stuck out of his head and strange look lingered in his eyes. He led his prisoner in by the base of the neck. The captive arms where tied behind his back, hands cuffed together with mittens taped on. A black drawstring bag was tied over his head, combined it meant he could neither see nor feel what was around him.
“Kyo’s into sensory depurative. His ears plugs in too,” Ruki informed.
“It drives them mad after a few days,” Kyo laughed kicking the captive’s legs behind his knees. He fell, knocking against the edge of the tub. He laughed again, giving him another swift kick. He looked towards Tadashi grinning, “Shall we get this started?”
Kyo took the other’s neck and held him down by his hands. Stepping over his legs to get the best leverage, he dunked his head into the frigid water. Tadashi watched as he held him there under the water before pulling him back up. The cloth bag stuck to his face like a second skin and first the first time Tadashi could clearly make out his features, eyes, nose, mouth opened in a wheeze. Yet, before he could think the captive’s head was plunged back the water again. He struggled more this time trashing his head this way and that, trying to snake his body free from Kyo’s grasp but a shift elbow to his spine stopped the bucking movements.
“Why-why isn’t he saying anything?”
Kyo grinned, “He’s gagged, makes the water rush into his lugs that much quicker.”
They really are trying to drown him. They don't give a fuck what he says, Tadashi thought. Or that he might be innocent.
The scene continued as such, Tadashi shaking his head. Fighting the urge to help, to punch Kyo in the face and set the captive free, he knew better and just stared at his feet. With each frantic splash the room seemed to dip in temperature, getting colder and colder with each sharp gasp for eat and cough that only send the wet sack around the other’s head closer to his skin. Tadashi closed his eyes, feeling like he on a vast frozen lake, the center of hell, where all heat and love vanished and people willing ate echother’s brains.
“What’s the point? Why-why don’t you just kill him,” Tadashi finally asked voice low, shaking.
“He’s an example,” Kyo spoke. “If we can get him fucked up enough then release him. His little terrorist buddies see what we’re willing to do and will think twice about planning something again.”
“Kyo’s pretty good at not killing them,” Ruki added. “Hibiki is the one that sometimes get’s carried away, but he’s only given the worse. So it doesn’t matter.”
The tallest blond watched again as Kyo placed the captive’s head back into the water, this time he didn’t struggle, having passed out. Kyo rolled his eyes pulling the other up and slapping his face awake.
“I’m not done with you!” He yelled frustrated when the other didn’t come too right away. He drew his fist back, punching the other, in the head. This did the trick; he coughed, only to be shoved back into the water.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Tadashi moved to the far corner, coughing furiously but nothing more.
“Here, let’s get you some air.”
“Bye Tadashi, hope to see you again soon,” Kyo laughed continued as the door closed behind the two.
Tadashi stood outside the room for a minute, trying to his breathing under control. He closed his eyes breathing in through his mouth and out his nose, it did well to help mask that smell his thoughts bled red with pain and anger.
“We’ll go through the back. There’s an elevator that way.” Ruki suggested starting back down the hall once the other looked ready.
As the walked that pungent smell only grew worse, and Tadashi gagged one more as the strangling scent. Looking up from his fit, he saw the devil. No, that couldn’t be right, but yet it seemed to fit. It was a male dressed in red with a golden stripped vest. His black hair fuzzed out around him like a lion’s mane. Small red horns peaked out on top of his head, and Tadashi stopped, watching the other’s approach. The smell of death lingered on him and Tadashi became trapped in his eyes. They were missing, or rather covered up in a completely white contact. There was nothing to behold, no black spot to establish sight, as he effortless reached into pocket lighting up a cigarette like any normal day. As the other took the few steps to drew closer than past him Tadashi shook with fear for within those blank eyes he saw him. He saw Tadashi for what he really was, for what he was going to do, and already grinned knowing exactly what he would do to him.
“Who-who,” the blond managed to get out.
“Hibiki.”
By then they reached the elevator, Ruki with a grin on his face, for he knew that there was one more stop on this little tour of the basement. The ding singled their floor and they both got out, Ruki motioning to the door leading outside. It was the back of the building what would be a garden if it wasn’t covered in snow, yet it still flowered, for prisons barely clothed dotted the landscape, guards here and there making sure they didn’t move.
“It’s their relief.”
“Hyperthermia in the snow?” Tadashi shook his head, eyes closing the site, too much to look at.
“It numbs them you see. They can’t feel the hits for a few hours after they’re done here. They enjoy it, this time when they’re not throttled.”
“Why? This-this is all atrocious. All of it is.”
“It’s a warning, Tadashi,” Ruki glared up to the blond who eyes glistened with a new sheen “Kirito created a utopia here in Japan. No one has to worry about war, or food like before. Anyone that wants to destroy it deserves the very worse Hibiki could think of. And they will. He might kill them more than all of us combined, but the ones he gets deserver to suffer. I can hear their screams in my office, Tadashi. Hear their scream as Hibiki skins them alive.”
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End! There are only 7 more chapters to go. What do you think? I love comments they make me so happy!