[Fic] "The Transient and the Eternal: Kisses" -- Angel Sanctuary
I'm doing thirtyforthree for Kira Sakuya/Mudo Setsuna/Mudo Sara from Kaori Yuki's Angel Sanctuary. There will be spoilers in nearly every theme -- given the characters, it's nearly impossible to avoid them! -- and a lot of potentially objectionable content. This is because the source manga has a lot of potentially objectionable content. If incest squicks you, or you know you'll be bothered by some strange and/or negative interpretations of Judeo-Christian theology, you're probably better off not reading these stories.
With that said...
Theme: #2 - Kisses
Warnings: mild spoilers, more contextual than specific
Note: Pre-manga, shortly before Kira pierces Setsuna's ears.
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Kisses
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Slowly, achingly slowly, his heart thundering in his ears, Setsuna dragged himself out from the terrifying ocean of anger and bloodlust, following Kira's voice. Two bodies lay limp at his feet, and strong arms were locked around his waist, trapping his own arms at his sides. His feet dangled two inches off the ground.
"Are you back together yet?" Kira asked, mildly.
Setsuna drew a deep, ragged breath, and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. I didn't go too far, right? They're just unconscious, right? You stopped me?"
"I stopped you," Kira agreed, loosening his grip and letting Setsuna drop back to the earth. "But I won't always be around when someone pushes you this far. You have to learn to control yourself."
"I can't," Setsuna told him, leaning tiredly against his sempai. "I've tried and tried, but when I see blood..." He shuddered. "You and Sara are the only ones who can talk me down; even my parents can't do that. They have to lock me in my room and wait until I'm not crazy anymore, or I might really hurt them. I broke Mom's arm once, you know that? That's one of the reasons she hates me."
"Bullshit," Kira said, unwrapping his arms. "Last month Sara got that big scrape on her elbow, and you didn't go berserk. You panicked, but you just hauled her home and made her bandage it. Blood isn't the problem. You just think it is, and you're making excuses for not keeping your temper."
Setsuna blinked. That was right -- he hadn't flipped out over Sara's bloody arm. Come to think of it, he never did flip out over Sara's injuries unless they weren't accidents. And he didn't flip out when Kira got into fights, just when he was fighting too.
"Okay, so maybe it's not only blood, but that's the biggest trigger," he told Kira. "And I'm not making excuses -- I hate losing control! I just don't know how to stop it. It's like there's a monster deep inside me that loves blood and killing, and when it starts to wake up I'm not strong enough to push it back down."
Kira prodded one of the unconscious gang members with his shoe. "Interesting. Tell you what -- I'll see if I can think of a way to help you remember yourself instead of giving in to your 'monster,' if you promise to try staying out of fights instead of letting people goad you. For now, let's get out of here. Your shoulder's still bleeding from that punk's knife, and I want to ice your side to keep the bruising down." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it -- he'd started smoking over the winter -- and started walking toward Setsuna's house.
"Let's go to your place, sempai," Setsuna pleaded as he caught up, wrinkling his nose at the unfamiliar smell of burning tobacco. "I don't want Sara to get upset."
Kira blew a puff of smoke and laughed. "You think she won't get upset anyway? She'll probably make you take the bandage off just so she can wrap you up again herself." He leered at Setsuna. "We could skip the extra step and go straight to her; she'll kiss everything all better, just like you do for her. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Shut up! I don't kiss Sara -- she's my sister! It's not right, not once you start growing up." Setsuna stuffed his bruised, scraped hands into his pockets and fumed.
"Whatever. But I saw you kiss her arm when you put the Band-Aid on. Admit it -- you're a romantic at heart."
"She asked me," Setsuna said, flushing. "I used to do that when we were really little, but it's stupid. And there's no point, anyway -- it's not like a kiss makes you get better faster."
Kira shrugged. They walked in silence for several minutes, crossing a street and threading their way through a knot of pedestrians. It was early afternoon, too soon for the rush of workers heading home for dinner, but a lot of people seemed to have made excuses to get outside and enjoy the first warm day of spring. Several women shied away from Setsuna's bloodstained shirt and bruised face, and Kira's long hair and leather jacket.
As they got closer to Kira's house, the wary stares shaded into resigned looks of disappointment. Setsuna hunched over, embarrassed. "Don't pay attention to them," Kira said as he unlocked his front door. "They think I'm a disgrace to my mother's memory, which is probably true, but they don't know who the hell you are."
"That doesn't stop them from looking at me," Setsuna said. "It makes me feel dirty."
"You are dirty," Kira pointed out, grinding out his cigarette with his heel. "That's why we're here, so I can clean you up."
"That's not what I meant," Setsuna said, but he followed Kira into the house without further protest. He didn't even argue when Kira made him soak his hands in the bathroom sink, or when Kira doused a rag in hydrogen peroxide and pressed it against his shoulder, making the raw flesh scream in pain. Kira peeled away Setsuna's torn shirt, scrubbed off the dried blood, and sluiced the cut with more disinfectant. Then he wrapped Setsuna's shoulder with three gauze pads and half a roll of adhesive tape.
"I look like a mummy," Setsuna grumbled, eyeing himself in the mirror.
"You need makeup for that," Kira said, "kohl around your eyes and gold paint all over your face." He brushed his thumbs along Setsuna's eyebrows in demonstration. Then he grabbed Setsuna's hands and examined the shallow scrapes along his knuckles. "Man, you banged yourself up."
"I banged those jerks up more."
"You didn't need to hit them in the first place," Kira said, "but we've already established that you're an impulsive idiot. Actually, you've given us a great opportunity. I don't think anyone's ever scientifically tested the healing properties of kisses. We can do an experiment, and you can turn it in for extra credit."
Setsuna took a half step backward, toward the bathroom door. "Kira-sempai?"
Kira smiled; it wasn't a particularly reassuring expression. "Both your hands are bleeding. If one gets a kiss and the other doesn't, and we treat them exactly the same otherwise, which will heal faster?" He raised Setsuna's right hand -- Setsuna froze, too surprised to resist -- and gently breathed on the tattered knuckles. His lips brushed across Setsuna's skin, feather-light, and then pressed down for a bare second and a swipe of tongue.
Kira let go and stepped back.
"God! Kira, what the hell?" Setsuna stared at his hand, touched the knuckles gingerly with his fingers. "You just licked my hand."
"No, I kissed your hand. Get your terminology straight, dumbass." Kira turned back to the medicine cupboard and pulled out a box of Band-Aids. "You're too excitable. That's why people tease you and push you into fights. You always fall for it, and people like easy targets."
"I'm not an easy target," Setsuna grumbled, his left hand still folded protectively over his right. "I'd only be an easy target if I lost."
"You're missing the point," Kira said, closing the distance between them and prodding Setsuna's uninjured shoulder. "Now come on; your hands are still bleeding, and I want to see if I can fix you with Band-Aids or if we need more gauze and tape."
"Uh, yeah." Setsuna gave up trying to figure out what Kira had meant by that hand thing -- it was probably just another joke, like he'd said, just another way to tease him for always taking things too seriously and reacting without thinking -- and let his sempai patch him up.
He never was sure which hand healed faster.
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End
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Cross-posted here on thirtyforthree.
With that said...
Theme: #2 - Kisses
Warnings: mild spoilers, more contextual than specific
Note: Pre-manga, shortly before Kira pierces Setsuna's ears.
---------------------------------------------
Kisses
---------------------------------------------
Slowly, achingly slowly, his heart thundering in his ears, Setsuna dragged himself out from the terrifying ocean of anger and bloodlust, following Kira's voice. Two bodies lay limp at his feet, and strong arms were locked around his waist, trapping his own arms at his sides. His feet dangled two inches off the ground.
"Are you back together yet?" Kira asked, mildly.
Setsuna drew a deep, ragged breath, and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. I didn't go too far, right? They're just unconscious, right? You stopped me?"
"I stopped you," Kira agreed, loosening his grip and letting Setsuna drop back to the earth. "But I won't always be around when someone pushes you this far. You have to learn to control yourself."
"I can't," Setsuna told him, leaning tiredly against his sempai. "I've tried and tried, but when I see blood..." He shuddered. "You and Sara are the only ones who can talk me down; even my parents can't do that. They have to lock me in my room and wait until I'm not crazy anymore, or I might really hurt them. I broke Mom's arm once, you know that? That's one of the reasons she hates me."
"Bullshit," Kira said, unwrapping his arms. "Last month Sara got that big scrape on her elbow, and you didn't go berserk. You panicked, but you just hauled her home and made her bandage it. Blood isn't the problem. You just think it is, and you're making excuses for not keeping your temper."
Setsuna blinked. That was right -- he hadn't flipped out over Sara's bloody arm. Come to think of it, he never did flip out over Sara's injuries unless they weren't accidents. And he didn't flip out when Kira got into fights, just when he was fighting too.
"Okay, so maybe it's not only blood, but that's the biggest trigger," he told Kira. "And I'm not making excuses -- I hate losing control! I just don't know how to stop it. It's like there's a monster deep inside me that loves blood and killing, and when it starts to wake up I'm not strong enough to push it back down."
Kira prodded one of the unconscious gang members with his shoe. "Interesting. Tell you what -- I'll see if I can think of a way to help you remember yourself instead of giving in to your 'monster,' if you promise to try staying out of fights instead of letting people goad you. For now, let's get out of here. Your shoulder's still bleeding from that punk's knife, and I want to ice your side to keep the bruising down." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it -- he'd started smoking over the winter -- and started walking toward Setsuna's house.
"Let's go to your place, sempai," Setsuna pleaded as he caught up, wrinkling his nose at the unfamiliar smell of burning tobacco. "I don't want Sara to get upset."
Kira blew a puff of smoke and laughed. "You think she won't get upset anyway? She'll probably make you take the bandage off just so she can wrap you up again herself." He leered at Setsuna. "We could skip the extra step and go straight to her; she'll kiss everything all better, just like you do for her. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Shut up! I don't kiss Sara -- she's my sister! It's not right, not once you start growing up." Setsuna stuffed his bruised, scraped hands into his pockets and fumed.
"Whatever. But I saw you kiss her arm when you put the Band-Aid on. Admit it -- you're a romantic at heart."
"She asked me," Setsuna said, flushing. "I used to do that when we were really little, but it's stupid. And there's no point, anyway -- it's not like a kiss makes you get better faster."
Kira shrugged. They walked in silence for several minutes, crossing a street and threading their way through a knot of pedestrians. It was early afternoon, too soon for the rush of workers heading home for dinner, but a lot of people seemed to have made excuses to get outside and enjoy the first warm day of spring. Several women shied away from Setsuna's bloodstained shirt and bruised face, and Kira's long hair and leather jacket.
As they got closer to Kira's house, the wary stares shaded into resigned looks of disappointment. Setsuna hunched over, embarrassed. "Don't pay attention to them," Kira said as he unlocked his front door. "They think I'm a disgrace to my mother's memory, which is probably true, but they don't know who the hell you are."
"That doesn't stop them from looking at me," Setsuna said. "It makes me feel dirty."
"You are dirty," Kira pointed out, grinding out his cigarette with his heel. "That's why we're here, so I can clean you up."
"That's not what I meant," Setsuna said, but he followed Kira into the house without further protest. He didn't even argue when Kira made him soak his hands in the bathroom sink, or when Kira doused a rag in hydrogen peroxide and pressed it against his shoulder, making the raw flesh scream in pain. Kira peeled away Setsuna's torn shirt, scrubbed off the dried blood, and sluiced the cut with more disinfectant. Then he wrapped Setsuna's shoulder with three gauze pads and half a roll of adhesive tape.
"I look like a mummy," Setsuna grumbled, eyeing himself in the mirror.
"You need makeup for that," Kira said, "kohl around your eyes and gold paint all over your face." He brushed his thumbs along Setsuna's eyebrows in demonstration. Then he grabbed Setsuna's hands and examined the shallow scrapes along his knuckles. "Man, you banged yourself up."
"I banged those jerks up more."
"You didn't need to hit them in the first place," Kira said, "but we've already established that you're an impulsive idiot. Actually, you've given us a great opportunity. I don't think anyone's ever scientifically tested the healing properties of kisses. We can do an experiment, and you can turn it in for extra credit."
Setsuna took a half step backward, toward the bathroom door. "Kira-sempai?"
Kira smiled; it wasn't a particularly reassuring expression. "Both your hands are bleeding. If one gets a kiss and the other doesn't, and we treat them exactly the same otherwise, which will heal faster?" He raised Setsuna's right hand -- Setsuna froze, too surprised to resist -- and gently breathed on the tattered knuckles. His lips brushed across Setsuna's skin, feather-light, and then pressed down for a bare second and a swipe of tongue.
Kira let go and stepped back.
"God! Kira, what the hell?" Setsuna stared at his hand, touched the knuckles gingerly with his fingers. "You just licked my hand."
"No, I kissed your hand. Get your terminology straight, dumbass." Kira turned back to the medicine cupboard and pulled out a box of Band-Aids. "You're too excitable. That's why people tease you and push you into fights. You always fall for it, and people like easy targets."
"I'm not an easy target," Setsuna grumbled, his left hand still folded protectively over his right. "I'd only be an easy target if I lost."
"You're missing the point," Kira said, closing the distance between them and prodding Setsuna's uninjured shoulder. "Now come on; your hands are still bleeding, and I want to see if I can fix you with Band-Aids or if we need more gauze and tape."
"Uh, yeah." Setsuna gave up trying to figure out what Kira had meant by that hand thing -- it was probably just another joke, like he'd said, just another way to tease him for always taking things too seriously and reacting without thinking -- and let his sempai patch him up.
He never was sure which hand healed faster.
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End
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Cross-posted here on thirtyforthree.