ACU PreStory: "Black Honey Ch 4: Friendship, Ruin & A Promise" (Aoi x Uruha)
Title: Black Honey Ch 4: Friendship, Ruin & A Promise
Pairings: Aoi x Uruha
Writer: black_prophet (Midsummer_Slave)
Genre: AU, Sci-Fi with Angst & Smut
Rating: R (Mentioned prostitution/murder/injury)
Warning: This and remaining Chapters for this Fic are rated R for prostitution, mentioned sex acts, violence, injury and murder, and smut.
Dedication: I’m going to blame this one on onichick, because I know she won’t mind. Aoi & Uruha seem willing to push everyone out of the way and break the rules to entertain her, so here you go Oni-love!
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, claim to own The GazettE (though I do have several CDs & Concert DVDs and a LOT of pictures). They belong to themselves and each other. This fic and the world it is set in is completely the product of my imagination. I do all my own stunts writing. Please do not attempt these techniques at home. No Beta (sorry for mistakes, I try to spare you).
Previous Chapters: "Ch 1: Asking" "Ch 2: The Beauty & The Hunter" "Ch 3: First Sight"
***
A week after the brief encounter with the golden-haired Kin, and Aoi still wasn’t completely sure how he’d managed to pull himself away from the intriguing male. He didn’t exactly remember how their conversation went either, the words hardly mattering when he’d been overwhelmed by the sight and sound and scent of the golden Kin.
And yes, the honey-eyed ‘Beauty’ was indeed Kin, and an Arch besides. Even Aoi had to laugh at that; he sure knew how to set his sights, didn’t he? An Arch Angel wandering the streets, and coincidentally they met.
Aoi remembered deciding one thing that night: Fate did so love her jokes. To teasingly offer him a beautiful Arch Angel, and then remind him of his task with the distant bark of a gunshot. The one he had meant to hunt and slay was gone, leaving the body of another sinner in his wake. It was his gun that had interrupted the conversation, and now another’s life was on his soul.
His prey had gone to ground and remained there for days, but Aoi would catch him eventually; he was sworn to do so. And the mixed-blood Kin knew that when he did, he would enjoy the kill more than many others. With this sinner gone, perhaps he could return to the Alley, and find his Golden One.
The night after the chance encounter with the Kin, Aoi had invited Reita over for a night of drinking. That in itself wasn’t quite as surprising as the Dark Kin Prince agreeing. Though Aoi didn’t remember most of that evening, he knew that about four bottles of sake -and who knew what else- into it, the stilted silence had disappeared behind an easy enough companionship.
When all was said and done, the mixed-blood Kin decided that he and the Prince of Death were friends, as they had both lived through the experience. Surprisingly enough, Reita had agreed to this assessment. Granted, there had been a rough patch during the middle of their beer drinking when Aoi hit Reita, but when the Prince demanded to know what he had done the black-haired male had responded with instant honesty.
‘I’ve decided that it fucking pisses me off when you’re right, especially when you’re right without meaning to be right. So, since you are right and I’m pissed off, I hit you.’ Aoi had replied. ‘And now I can forgive you.’
Reita considered him for a moment, smirked, and inclined his head in a nod. ‘Alright then… Thanks for forgiving me.’
‘Trust me, if I liked you any less, I wouldn’t have.’ He admitted grimly. ‘This is really going to suck, Akira.’
Reita nodded his head, sipping at his drink thoughtfully. ‘Do I get to know what I was right about?’
Aoi snorted bitterly and downed another shot of sake, purring at the burn of the warm alcohol. ‘Trust me Akira, I haven’t drunk enough to have that conversation yet… And you’re not drunk enough to hear it.’
Reita tilted his head appraisingly, then smirked. ‘Well hell, Yuu… Now I’m intrigued.’
‘You’ll be pissed when I tell you… I’ll be pissed when I tell you.’
‘Guess we better keep drinking then.’
‘That would be best.’ Aoi muttered, frowning as Reita added a splash of whiskey to a glass. The firelight caught in the amber liquid, gleaming like the eyes of his Arch Angel.
‘Aoi?’ Reita murmured, noting the change in the hunter’s features.
‘Fuck… I really hate you being right, Rei…’ He sighed bitterly. ‘Pour me some of that, and then I’ll start talking.’
That was more or less the extent of his memory from the evening, though Aoi wasn’t particularly eager to dig for more information. He was sure that he and Reita had drunk far more than was healthy, that was given. Yes, he had told Reita the story of the golden-haired Kin. The Prince had joined him in his colorful swearing, and poured them both more whiskey.
A week later, and they counted each other as friends. Each night Reita gave him a look that Aoi was all too tired of seeing, and each night the mixed-blood hunter shook his head in reply. No, the prey had not resurfaced. No, he had not gone down to the Alley to see the Arch. No, he did not want to talk -or drink- about it.
So far, the Prince respected his wishes.
With a sigh and a roll of his shoulders, Aoi closed his eyes and drank in the night. Scents washed over him, of the city and the night itself, of the people passing him and those long gone. Good souls and bad, and all in a variety of degrees. He ignored the masses, picking out certain strains, certain threads.
Nothing worth hunting, nothing that called to his instincts as a Dark Kin.
But there, there…
Soft vanilla… a thin thread of sunlight… Laugher that is a lie, lies that are true… An Arch Angel.
Mottled with black and the stagnant scent of a Sinner.
Black eyes snapped open, narrowed in thought. Backing into the empty alley, the mixed-blood Kin crouched, steadying is breathing. Black wings unfurled, stretching until pinions brushed the brick walls to either side of the shadowed street. The alley was far too narrow for him to stretch his wings out, so Aoi let them reach out behind him, sighing as muscles eased. Half-folding the great limbs, he tilted his head upright and tensed, leaping up from the ground and into the sky.
Something happened to the Beauty.
*
There was something beyond infuriating about looking at a situation and knowing that a simple decision on your part could have spared a life. And such a life, too. Aoi crooned in soft sorrow as he knelt briefly by the pool of blood left near the mouth of the street. He could sense the staggering trail that led away, the Arch’s vain attempt to seek help before he bled out. Blood marked the path the Golden One had taken, blood left by the beauty Aoi had come to recognize from a distance.
Uruha, they called him. A golden-haired Kin that drew Aoi’s attention in spite of his hardened heart. And now the beauty was injured and dying. This was not right, not at all, and it was his fault.
So often he saw Uruha “on the strut”, gracefully meandering through Angel’s Alley and attracting attention just by walking around and smoking a cigarette. Aoi wasn’t sure how much whoring the beautiful male actually did, but he certainly did have a share of admirers that always followed his meandering path back to his Madam’s bordello. Aoi knew a great many of them spent their money on the beautiful women that also worked there, but he had no idea how many actually visited Uruha’s rooms as well.
Though it couldn’t have been many, Aoi had wandered the streets in search of any who had shared the golden-one’s scent. He’d yet to find such a male, which was why all of the Madam’s clients still breathed. If he had caught a hint of that wild honey and spice scent, he might not have been so restrained.
Something about Uruha set his senses to their sharpest edge, which was why it was inexcusable for him to have let that sinner past. Even being distracted by the Arch that first night, he should have moved faster, hunted more keenly. It was his fault the Sinner still walked.
And now the blond beauty lay bleeding onto the black street.
“Who are you?” Uruha whispered, his body half-draped against a shipping crate stacked close to the wall of a building. The blond male had managed to drag himself into that somewhat-secure corner, a hand and arm curled over the ruin of his once-beautiful belly. “Come to finish me off?”
Tucked with his back to wood and brick, Uruha attempted some semblance of anger and rebellion. Golden eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened, more from attempting to ignore the pain rather than any fear he might have felt toward the shadow he could sense but not yet see. Everything was thick with black, the night wrapped in heavy shadows that grew each time he wrestled his eyelids open once more. It wouldn’t take much to end him, he knew, the knife had done most of the work already. All one really needed was time.
“No.” Aoi murmured, his voice slightly rough from disuse as well as the scent of blood. To his nose and knowledge it didn’t seem like anything had ruptured internally, but there was little skin and muscle left to keep the other’s organs from spilling onto the concrete. “No, I am not here to hurt you.”
“Move into the light.” Uruha whispered, faintly recognizing the tone. “I… I can’t see you. Why can’t I see you?”
“Shhh, GoldenOne.” Aoi purred as he stood, his strides those of a predator, gliding and silent as he moved closer. “Think for a moment, you know why.”
“Dark-Kin.” Uruha hissed softly as he tried to resettle himself against the crate, hating that he lay so weakly against the wooden structure. Still, he was in no shape to pull himself up.
If he had more energy, he might have sat up anyway. If he had more energy, he might have been terrified, or more aggressive. He might have fought what he knew had finally come for him, but he just didn’t have the strength. At least the Kin was beautiful, that much he could see: a proud face, pale skin, black hair and black eyes… A black piercing in his lip that would have intrigued Uruha if he had the strength for it.
He adored piercings, a pity something so gorgeous had to find him in his current state. But Fate did love toying with him, that he was well-aware of by now. He had met this one before, he knew. This was the one that had made his senses riot, and even now as he looked upon the Dark Kin his heart lurched and ached. The need to be closer would have made him sick, if he’d had the strength for it.
“The shadows, your fading strength, and yes, I am Dark Kin.” Aoi agreed as he knelt an arm’s reach away from the injured male. “And Kin.”
“I know the Angel of Merciful Death when I see him.” Uruha whispered, eyes drifting closed in a slow blink. “So then, is that why you are here?”
“No.” Aoi murmured, strength in the denial. Refusal, even. “I am not for you.”
“Why not, Arch Angel? Do I not deserve a merciful death?” Uruha laughed softly. “Ahh, but I am a Sinner, aren’t I? Is that why?”
“No, not you.” Aoi murmured, one hand moving to touch the beauty’s cheek. “You may have had sins performed on you, but you’re not a sinner.”
“What an interesting take on my profession.” Uruha coughed, wincing as it jarred his whole body. What little healing talent he had when it came to his own injuries probably wouldn’t save him, and there was no way to get help. Not if this Kin wouldn’t just go ahead and kill him. “So you’re just going to let me bleed out in the street, hmmm?”
“No.” Aoi denied again, something clawing fiercely at his heart. “No, I won’t let you die.”
“What do you care if I die?” Uruha whispered as black descended upon him, and he whimpered softly as fingers of cold-fire drifted over his shoulders.
“I care.” That dark voice whispered in his ear as an arm curled around his back, the other gently stroking over his stomach and then curling under his legs. “I care, my Golden One. Never doubt that…”
“It hurts.” He muttered, hating the admittance.
“Life hurts.” Aoi agreed, lifting the other and holding him tightly to his chest. “Hold onto that pain for a little longer, Beauty. Hold on just a little longer, for me.”
“I don’t want to hurt anymore.” Uruha argued, the fingers of one hand tangling in black fabric as he tried to make his point. His eyelids were too heavy to lift now, and he didn’t bother to try and move his cheek from where it rested over the Dark Kin’s heart. “I’m tired of it all hurting.”
“Hold on just a little longer.” Aoi demanded, putting enough of a command in his tone to ensure the injured Arch would obey. “Just a little longer, Beauty, and then I’ll make it all go away.”
The blond was so still in his arms that Aoi feared it was too late, and his heart twisted anxiously at the thought. The next moment it relaxed enough to hammer in his chest, thrumming under the blond male’s cheek as he tightened his grip on Aoi’s shirt.
“Do you promise?”
“Promise?” Aoi whispered weakly, shaken by the fear of losing this stranger.
Uruha muttered, the tone sulky like that of a reluctant child. “That you’ll make it all go away, if I listen to you…”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Promise it won’t hurt anymore.” Now desperate, and perhaps a little fearful. “Promise me that.”
Aoi turned his head, brushing a kiss to the other’s temple, stroking his lips over amber bangs. His voice was confident and soothing when he spoke with his lips still pressed to soft skin. “I swear to you, Beauty, I won’t let it hurt anymore. I’ll never let it hurt again.”
Fragile hope and weak shivers. “Never?”
“Never, I promise.”
Uruha shuddered, a reaction to the creeping cold that had very little to do with the weather. The warmth of the one carrying him made him curl slightly, trying to press against that lean body and the heat it radiated. Arm still curled over his stomach, he whimpered slightly as a movement made everything ripple with pain.
“Be still, be still, my Beauty.” The black haired male soothed, and distantly Uruha felt lips brushing his temple again. “We’re almost there.”
He wanted to smile, the possession in the tone soothing something inside of him. Instead he struggled to understand, words drifting in and out of his mind. “Almost… Where?”
Aoi moved up the steps toward the door of the Madam’s brothel and blinked in surprise when she opened it for him silently. “Somewhere safe…”
Uruha accepted the answer, but his fingers tightened on the handful of jacket he’d grasped. “And you?”
“What about me?” Aoi rumbled, watching the small woman as she ushered him inside with panicked eyes.
“Will you stay?” Uruha clarified, features tightening as they began moving again. “Stay with me?”
Aoi shook his head, bearing his burden without aid as the small woman led him silently upstairs and down a quiet hallway. “Not now, Beauty. But I will come back for you.”
Feeling himself being released onto a flat surface, Uruha tightened his grip and fought the fear tearing at him. “Will you tell me your name?”
“Yuu… Shiroyama Yuu.” Aoi murmured, gently freeing himself from the clinging grip and placing Uruha’s hand on the bed. “You will be safe until I come back.”
“Yuu…” Uruha murmured, shuddering as the darkness pressed in on him.
Aoi straightened, giving the Madam a warning look as she set healing hands to the ruined Arch Angel. On the bed Uruha was a study of black, gold and red against pristine white sheets. He wasn’t sure if the broken Arch had passed out from his injuries or the Madam’s healing had forced it. Still, the urge to give one last order had him bending over the bed, placing a final kiss on the corner of Uruha’s mouth.
“Hold on, Beauty. Remember you promised.”
Takeshi Laila glanced up from the torn figure of the one she called Beauty, her sharp eyes narrowed as she considered his savior. Shiroyama Yuu was well known to her, once an elegant and high-paying client like his father had been. She had followed rumors of him disappearing from most socialite events, curious as to why he was throwing away a reputation he seemed to carefully cultivate in his youth. Now, seeing him as an adult and clothed in night-black clothing with her ruined Beauty in his arms, she knew.
“He will live, Merciful One.” She murmured, the title given out of respect and affection. “I thank you for saving him and returning him to me.”
Black eyes looked up from the Beauty they discussed, pinning her where she stood. “I return him to your guardianship only temporarily, Madam. When my hunt is done for the one who sought to slay him, I will return.”
“I am counting on it.” She replied smoothly, sitting on the edge of the bed and beginning to cut away Uruha’s damaged and blood-soaked garments. “He is quite a challenge when he is denied what he wishes, my Beauty. Please go and return quickly, so that you may make him yours.”
With that, she turned to ignoring her guest. The shirt removed and scraps thrown aside, Madam Takeshi splayed her hands over Uruha’s body and began a soft chant. A minor descendant of the Third Line, she threw herself into her healing gifts and watched the organs and skin slowly mend.
Not yet gone, Aoi frowned, watching has thin lines of fragile new tissue repaired organ and muscle and slowly began to reconnect the ruin scraps of skin. He had no doubt there would be scars, but his Beauty would be whole and live.
Stripping his jacket off and laying it beside the healing Arch, Aoi offered the madam a bow with his hand on his Katana. “Watch over him well.”
Laila watched him disappear through the door, smiling to herself. “Good luck on the hunt…”
***
Next Chapter: "Ch 5: Payment For Suffering & Tales Between Friends"
So I am loving this far more than any other previously posted parts of "Black Honey". This is more or less where my original idea started but I felt like I needed to give you guys more info. Thus are the first three Chapters a classic example of me getting in my own way by fixing something not broken. At any rate, here we are! Loving it! Please Comment.
A/N: By the way "The New" is now available in PDF format, there is now an "Angel Chronicles Universe Dictionary" or "ACUD", and I'm working on more goodies for you. <3
Pairings: Aoi x Uruha
Writer: black_prophet (Midsummer_Slave)
Genre: AU, Sci-Fi with Angst & Smut
Rating: R (Mentioned prostitution/murder/injury)
Warning: This and remaining Chapters for this Fic are rated R for prostitution, mentioned sex acts, violence, injury and murder, and smut.
Dedication: I’m going to blame this one on onichick, because I know she won’t mind. Aoi & Uruha seem willing to push everyone out of the way and break the rules to entertain her, so here you go Oni-love!
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, claim to own The GazettE (though I do have several CDs & Concert DVDs and a LOT of pictures). They belong to themselves and each other. This fic and the world it is set in is completely the product of my imagination. I do all my own stunts writing. Please do not attempt these techniques at home. No Beta (sorry for mistakes, I try to spare you).
Previous Chapters: "Ch 1: Asking" "Ch 2: The Beauty & The Hunter" "Ch 3: First Sight"
***
A week after the brief encounter with the golden-haired Kin, and Aoi still wasn’t completely sure how he’d managed to pull himself away from the intriguing male. He didn’t exactly remember how their conversation went either, the words hardly mattering when he’d been overwhelmed by the sight and sound and scent of the golden Kin.
And yes, the honey-eyed ‘Beauty’ was indeed Kin, and an Arch besides. Even Aoi had to laugh at that; he sure knew how to set his sights, didn’t he? An Arch Angel wandering the streets, and coincidentally they met.
Aoi remembered deciding one thing that night: Fate did so love her jokes. To teasingly offer him a beautiful Arch Angel, and then remind him of his task with the distant bark of a gunshot. The one he had meant to hunt and slay was gone, leaving the body of another sinner in his wake. It was his gun that had interrupted the conversation, and now another’s life was on his soul.
His prey had gone to ground and remained there for days, but Aoi would catch him eventually; he was sworn to do so. And the mixed-blood Kin knew that when he did, he would enjoy the kill more than many others. With this sinner gone, perhaps he could return to the Alley, and find his Golden One.
The night after the chance encounter with the Kin, Aoi had invited Reita over for a night of drinking. That in itself wasn’t quite as surprising as the Dark Kin Prince agreeing. Though Aoi didn’t remember most of that evening, he knew that about four bottles of sake -and who knew what else- into it, the stilted silence had disappeared behind an easy enough companionship.
When all was said and done, the mixed-blood Kin decided that he and the Prince of Death were friends, as they had both lived through the experience. Surprisingly enough, Reita had agreed to this assessment. Granted, there had been a rough patch during the middle of their beer drinking when Aoi hit Reita, but when the Prince demanded to know what he had done the black-haired male had responded with instant honesty.
‘I’ve decided that it fucking pisses me off when you’re right, especially when you’re right without meaning to be right. So, since you are right and I’m pissed off, I hit you.’ Aoi had replied. ‘And now I can forgive you.’
Reita considered him for a moment, smirked, and inclined his head in a nod. ‘Alright then… Thanks for forgiving me.’
‘Trust me, if I liked you any less, I wouldn’t have.’ He admitted grimly. ‘This is really going to suck, Akira.’
Reita nodded his head, sipping at his drink thoughtfully. ‘Do I get to know what I was right about?’
Aoi snorted bitterly and downed another shot of sake, purring at the burn of the warm alcohol. ‘Trust me Akira, I haven’t drunk enough to have that conversation yet… And you’re not drunk enough to hear it.’
Reita tilted his head appraisingly, then smirked. ‘Well hell, Yuu… Now I’m intrigued.’
‘You’ll be pissed when I tell you… I’ll be pissed when I tell you.’
‘Guess we better keep drinking then.’
‘That would be best.’ Aoi muttered, frowning as Reita added a splash of whiskey to a glass. The firelight caught in the amber liquid, gleaming like the eyes of his Arch Angel.
‘Aoi?’ Reita murmured, noting the change in the hunter’s features.
‘Fuck… I really hate you being right, Rei…’ He sighed bitterly. ‘Pour me some of that, and then I’ll start talking.’
That was more or less the extent of his memory from the evening, though Aoi wasn’t particularly eager to dig for more information. He was sure that he and Reita had drunk far more than was healthy, that was given. Yes, he had told Reita the story of the golden-haired Kin. The Prince had joined him in his colorful swearing, and poured them both more whiskey.
A week later, and they counted each other as friends. Each night Reita gave him a look that Aoi was all too tired of seeing, and each night the mixed-blood hunter shook his head in reply. No, the prey had not resurfaced. No, he had not gone down to the Alley to see the Arch. No, he did not want to talk -or drink- about it.
So far, the Prince respected his wishes.
With a sigh and a roll of his shoulders, Aoi closed his eyes and drank in the night. Scents washed over him, of the city and the night itself, of the people passing him and those long gone. Good souls and bad, and all in a variety of degrees. He ignored the masses, picking out certain strains, certain threads.
Nothing worth hunting, nothing that called to his instincts as a Dark Kin.
But there, there…
Soft vanilla… a thin thread of sunlight… Laugher that is a lie, lies that are true… An Arch Angel.
Mottled with black and the stagnant scent of a Sinner.
Black eyes snapped open, narrowed in thought. Backing into the empty alley, the mixed-blood Kin crouched, steadying is breathing. Black wings unfurled, stretching until pinions brushed the brick walls to either side of the shadowed street. The alley was far too narrow for him to stretch his wings out, so Aoi let them reach out behind him, sighing as muscles eased. Half-folding the great limbs, he tilted his head upright and tensed, leaping up from the ground and into the sky.
Something happened to the Beauty.
*
There was something beyond infuriating about looking at a situation and knowing that a simple decision on your part could have spared a life. And such a life, too. Aoi crooned in soft sorrow as he knelt briefly by the pool of blood left near the mouth of the street. He could sense the staggering trail that led away, the Arch’s vain attempt to seek help before he bled out. Blood marked the path the Golden One had taken, blood left by the beauty Aoi had come to recognize from a distance.
Uruha, they called him. A golden-haired Kin that drew Aoi’s attention in spite of his hardened heart. And now the beauty was injured and dying. This was not right, not at all, and it was his fault.
So often he saw Uruha “on the strut”, gracefully meandering through Angel’s Alley and attracting attention just by walking around and smoking a cigarette. Aoi wasn’t sure how much whoring the beautiful male actually did, but he certainly did have a share of admirers that always followed his meandering path back to his Madam’s bordello. Aoi knew a great many of them spent their money on the beautiful women that also worked there, but he had no idea how many actually visited Uruha’s rooms as well.
Though it couldn’t have been many, Aoi had wandered the streets in search of any who had shared the golden-one’s scent. He’d yet to find such a male, which was why all of the Madam’s clients still breathed. If he had caught a hint of that wild honey and spice scent, he might not have been so restrained.
Something about Uruha set his senses to their sharpest edge, which was why it was inexcusable for him to have let that sinner past. Even being distracted by the Arch that first night, he should have moved faster, hunted more keenly. It was his fault the Sinner still walked.
And now the blond beauty lay bleeding onto the black street.
“Who are you?” Uruha whispered, his body half-draped against a shipping crate stacked close to the wall of a building. The blond male had managed to drag himself into that somewhat-secure corner, a hand and arm curled over the ruin of his once-beautiful belly. “Come to finish me off?”
Tucked with his back to wood and brick, Uruha attempted some semblance of anger and rebellion. Golden eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened, more from attempting to ignore the pain rather than any fear he might have felt toward the shadow he could sense but not yet see. Everything was thick with black, the night wrapped in heavy shadows that grew each time he wrestled his eyelids open once more. It wouldn’t take much to end him, he knew, the knife had done most of the work already. All one really needed was time.
“No.” Aoi murmured, his voice slightly rough from disuse as well as the scent of blood. To his nose and knowledge it didn’t seem like anything had ruptured internally, but there was little skin and muscle left to keep the other’s organs from spilling onto the concrete. “No, I am not here to hurt you.”
“Move into the light.” Uruha whispered, faintly recognizing the tone. “I… I can’t see you. Why can’t I see you?”
“Shhh, GoldenOne.” Aoi purred as he stood, his strides those of a predator, gliding and silent as he moved closer. “Think for a moment, you know why.”
“Dark-Kin.” Uruha hissed softly as he tried to resettle himself against the crate, hating that he lay so weakly against the wooden structure. Still, he was in no shape to pull himself up.
If he had more energy, he might have sat up anyway. If he had more energy, he might have been terrified, or more aggressive. He might have fought what he knew had finally come for him, but he just didn’t have the strength. At least the Kin was beautiful, that much he could see: a proud face, pale skin, black hair and black eyes… A black piercing in his lip that would have intrigued Uruha if he had the strength for it.
He adored piercings, a pity something so gorgeous had to find him in his current state. But Fate did love toying with him, that he was well-aware of by now. He had met this one before, he knew. This was the one that had made his senses riot, and even now as he looked upon the Dark Kin his heart lurched and ached. The need to be closer would have made him sick, if he’d had the strength for it.
“The shadows, your fading strength, and yes, I am Dark Kin.” Aoi agreed as he knelt an arm’s reach away from the injured male. “And Kin.”
“I know the Angel of Merciful Death when I see him.” Uruha whispered, eyes drifting closed in a slow blink. “So then, is that why you are here?”
“No.” Aoi murmured, strength in the denial. Refusal, even. “I am not for you.”
“Why not, Arch Angel? Do I not deserve a merciful death?” Uruha laughed softly. “Ahh, but I am a Sinner, aren’t I? Is that why?”
“No, not you.” Aoi murmured, one hand moving to touch the beauty’s cheek. “You may have had sins performed on you, but you’re not a sinner.”
“What an interesting take on my profession.” Uruha coughed, wincing as it jarred his whole body. What little healing talent he had when it came to his own injuries probably wouldn’t save him, and there was no way to get help. Not if this Kin wouldn’t just go ahead and kill him. “So you’re just going to let me bleed out in the street, hmmm?”
“No.” Aoi denied again, something clawing fiercely at his heart. “No, I won’t let you die.”
“What do you care if I die?” Uruha whispered as black descended upon him, and he whimpered softly as fingers of cold-fire drifted over his shoulders.
“I care.” That dark voice whispered in his ear as an arm curled around his back, the other gently stroking over his stomach and then curling under his legs. “I care, my Golden One. Never doubt that…”
“It hurts.” He muttered, hating the admittance.
“Life hurts.” Aoi agreed, lifting the other and holding him tightly to his chest. “Hold onto that pain for a little longer, Beauty. Hold on just a little longer, for me.”
“I don’t want to hurt anymore.” Uruha argued, the fingers of one hand tangling in black fabric as he tried to make his point. His eyelids were too heavy to lift now, and he didn’t bother to try and move his cheek from where it rested over the Dark Kin’s heart. “I’m tired of it all hurting.”
“Hold on just a little longer.” Aoi demanded, putting enough of a command in his tone to ensure the injured Arch would obey. “Just a little longer, Beauty, and then I’ll make it all go away.”
The blond was so still in his arms that Aoi feared it was too late, and his heart twisted anxiously at the thought. The next moment it relaxed enough to hammer in his chest, thrumming under the blond male’s cheek as he tightened his grip on Aoi’s shirt.
“Do you promise?”
“Promise?” Aoi whispered weakly, shaken by the fear of losing this stranger.
Uruha muttered, the tone sulky like that of a reluctant child. “That you’ll make it all go away, if I listen to you…”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Promise it won’t hurt anymore.” Now desperate, and perhaps a little fearful. “Promise me that.”
Aoi turned his head, brushing a kiss to the other’s temple, stroking his lips over amber bangs. His voice was confident and soothing when he spoke with his lips still pressed to soft skin. “I swear to you, Beauty, I won’t let it hurt anymore. I’ll never let it hurt again.”
Fragile hope and weak shivers. “Never?”
“Never, I promise.”
Uruha shuddered, a reaction to the creeping cold that had very little to do with the weather. The warmth of the one carrying him made him curl slightly, trying to press against that lean body and the heat it radiated. Arm still curled over his stomach, he whimpered slightly as a movement made everything ripple with pain.
“Be still, be still, my Beauty.” The black haired male soothed, and distantly Uruha felt lips brushing his temple again. “We’re almost there.”
He wanted to smile, the possession in the tone soothing something inside of him. Instead he struggled to understand, words drifting in and out of his mind. “Almost… Where?”
Aoi moved up the steps toward the door of the Madam’s brothel and blinked in surprise when she opened it for him silently. “Somewhere safe…”
Uruha accepted the answer, but his fingers tightened on the handful of jacket he’d grasped. “And you?”
“What about me?” Aoi rumbled, watching the small woman as she ushered him inside with panicked eyes.
“Will you stay?” Uruha clarified, features tightening as they began moving again. “Stay with me?”
Aoi shook his head, bearing his burden without aid as the small woman led him silently upstairs and down a quiet hallway. “Not now, Beauty. But I will come back for you.”
Feeling himself being released onto a flat surface, Uruha tightened his grip and fought the fear tearing at him. “Will you tell me your name?”
“Yuu… Shiroyama Yuu.” Aoi murmured, gently freeing himself from the clinging grip and placing Uruha’s hand on the bed. “You will be safe until I come back.”
“Yuu…” Uruha murmured, shuddering as the darkness pressed in on him.
Aoi straightened, giving the Madam a warning look as she set healing hands to the ruined Arch Angel. On the bed Uruha was a study of black, gold and red against pristine white sheets. He wasn’t sure if the broken Arch had passed out from his injuries or the Madam’s healing had forced it. Still, the urge to give one last order had him bending over the bed, placing a final kiss on the corner of Uruha’s mouth.
“Hold on, Beauty. Remember you promised.”
Takeshi Laila glanced up from the torn figure of the one she called Beauty, her sharp eyes narrowed as she considered his savior. Shiroyama Yuu was well known to her, once an elegant and high-paying client like his father had been. She had followed rumors of him disappearing from most socialite events, curious as to why he was throwing away a reputation he seemed to carefully cultivate in his youth. Now, seeing him as an adult and clothed in night-black clothing with her ruined Beauty in his arms, she knew.
“He will live, Merciful One.” She murmured, the title given out of respect and affection. “I thank you for saving him and returning him to me.”
Black eyes looked up from the Beauty they discussed, pinning her where she stood. “I return him to your guardianship only temporarily, Madam. When my hunt is done for the one who sought to slay him, I will return.”
“I am counting on it.” She replied smoothly, sitting on the edge of the bed and beginning to cut away Uruha’s damaged and blood-soaked garments. “He is quite a challenge when he is denied what he wishes, my Beauty. Please go and return quickly, so that you may make him yours.”
With that, she turned to ignoring her guest. The shirt removed and scraps thrown aside, Madam Takeshi splayed her hands over Uruha’s body and began a soft chant. A minor descendant of the Third Line, she threw herself into her healing gifts and watched the organs and skin slowly mend.
Not yet gone, Aoi frowned, watching has thin lines of fragile new tissue repaired organ and muscle and slowly began to reconnect the ruin scraps of skin. He had no doubt there would be scars, but his Beauty would be whole and live.
Stripping his jacket off and laying it beside the healing Arch, Aoi offered the madam a bow with his hand on his Katana. “Watch over him well.”
Laila watched him disappear through the door, smiling to herself. “Good luck on the hunt…”
***
Next Chapter: "Ch 5: Payment For Suffering & Tales Between Friends"
So I am loving this far more than any other previously posted parts of "Black Honey". This is more or less where my original idea started but I felt like I needed to give you guys more info. Thus are the first three Chapters a classic example of me getting in my own way by fixing something not broken. At any rate, here we are! Loving it! Please Comment.
A/N: By the way "The New" is now available in PDF format, there is now an "Angel Chronicles Universe Dictionary" or "ACUD", and I'm working on more goodies for you. <3