Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Miwaku no Zakuro	By : Tcharlatan Category: > Kyo/Kaoru Views: 2861 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction. I do not personally know any of the members of Dir en grey, X Japan, or KISAKI, and do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Kyo rose gradually to consciousness, slowly taking in his surroundings piece-by-piece as his senses hazily reestablished themselves. First: a heartbeat against his ear – slow and steady, his own pulse obediently mimicking it with a calm stability that it had not possessed in weeks. Second: darkness on the other side of fluttering eyelids – not the false dusk provided by the light in his cell, or the endless void of Time Out, but simple, natural nighttime pouring in through a window. Third: warmth all around him – nestled on top of a plush comforter, his own body fitted close against another. He realized that he was awake when he registered a handful of minor discomforts – the itch of dried cum down the backs of his thighs, a dull ache in his lower back, an insistent dryness in his throat – but he didn’t so much as twitch in response.
The heavy smell of sweat and sex was laced with now-familiar cologne, and an odd sort of introspective mood settled over him, feeling distinctly unlike himself. His mind was clearer and more open than it ever had been, but it almost seemed to be detached somehow; a global disconnect between the various facets of his psyche. Absently, he wondered at the implications of the day’s events.
‘I… slept with Him again… but willingly…’
‘I… fuck, I wanted it…’
‘I wanted to have sex with Him…’
It hadn’t just been an acceptance of the man’s intentions, as their first coupling had been; he’d honestly wanted to be close to Kaoru, to feel the man’s heat inside of him. He’d been turned on just by the sensation of giving the man head, had cum all over the both of them without any manipulation on his master’s part. It would be easy to blame the little purple pill Toshiya had given him – the one that he’d been told would ‘help him relax’ – but he wasn’t familiar enough with the drug to be able to afford himself that excuse. Even reasoning that he only did it to make his master happy felt like at least a half-lie, because he knew that his body had been singing for contact. He’d had sex with Kaoru of his own volition, and part of him was sickened and ashamed for it.
‘But… it all went the way I wanted it to.’
‘Even when He tried to push me, I stopped Him…’
‘I made Him feel what I wanted Him to feel.’
Another, much larger part of him reveled in the knowledge that, for just that brief window, not only had he felt something other than terror, but he had been in control. He had stripped his master of all of his anger, all of his composure, all of his capacity for rational thought, and Kaoru had allowed it. Kyo hadn’t simply gone to his knees and begged for his master’s happiness with a silent, clever tongue, praying his submission and hard-won skills would be enough. He had stolen Kaoru’s rage, robbed him the way he’d been robbed of so damn much – had taken a god and reduced him to a mere mortal, if only for a short while – and it was a heady feeling after so long feeling so powerless.
‘I can’t believe I-… with Him…’
‘A god or a devil… a god and a devil…’
‘Ruthless, self-serving, cold…’
Underneath the twisting conflict of shame and satisfaction, another battle was taking place in the quieter corners of Kyo’s mind. When all of this had started, he had truly believed with every bit of his soul that Kaoru was too cruel, too blatantly and undeniably evil to even be human. That his master was a devil in a man’s skin, incapable of sympathy or compassion, taking pleasure only in the suffering of others, and Kyo was simply the most recent to fall prey to his malicious desires. That mindset had allowed Kyo to hate the man with an unadulterated passion unlike anything he’d ever experienced, but it also left him wallowing in abject terror every waking moment.
‘But how… how could cruelty earn Him such devotion?’
‘How can they look at us… and see nothing wrong, if He’s so bad?’
‘How… how can others want to be where I am, if He’s truly evil?’
The scattered fragments of his mind were settling on a belief that put less strain on his heart, a less painful explanation; that maybe Kaoru wasn’t evil. Kaoru only ever struck him in response to being stricken. Kaoru fed him, too – good food of decidedly high quality, the likes of which he would have considered fare for special occasions. Kaoru gave him clothing and warm showers and his own little room for a safe haven, took him outside for picnics in the sunlit gardens. If Kaoru was evil, he wouldn’t do those things, would he? Kyo relied on the older man for survival, wholly and absolutely, and Kaoru seemed almost happy to rise to the occasion.
‘Almost as if…’
‘As if He… cares…?’
‘But how could He…’
Kyo felt a chilly tickle on his cheeks, and knew that confused, frustrated tears were falling unrestrained from half-open eyes. He allowed the stream to continue, but lacked the will to succumb to the urge to truly cry, his breath remaining steady, his body lax. He was in a strange place, mentally; the chemical wings he’d been flying so high on had melted away, but he hadn’t quite crashed down to earth yet. Lucid, but light, as if in freefall, and somehow the fact that Kaoru hadn’t moved from where they’d fallen over an hour ago resonated deep in him.
‘He’s…’
‘…warm…’
Kyo never fully realized the changes taking place inside himself. He never noticed the constant shifting and bending his mind was undergoing in order to conform itself to his new life without breaking completely. The shift was so gradual – from obedience based solely on fear, to seeking understanding to avoid punishment, to actively working toward pleasuring his master in the hope of more kindness – that he never noticed the difference in his own behavior beyond the understanding that his life was better for it. His denial had been firmly contradicted, his anger brutally beaten down. Any attempts he could have made at bargaining were ignored, and he found himself now trapped between depression and acceptance, drifting steadily toward the latter because the former simply hurt too much. He simply latched onto every little thing his captor did that could be taken as compassion, and clung to them to lessen the unbearable strain on his soul.
The body he was resting on shifted, startling him a little, and he heard the unmistakable click and whispered hiss of a lighter being brought to bear on a cigarette. There was a slow exhale of smoke, and Kyo found himself breathing it in deeply. It tasted of nicotine and Kaoru, and even as his eyes slid shut in indulgence, the blonde was dismayed by how much he needed both. Equally vicious poisons that convinced him he needed them to live, to be happy, to experience anything other than abject misery even when he knew that they would only destroy him slowly from the inside out.
‘What was I singing about, before?’
‘It seemed so important then…’
‘Something about poison, and… blooming?’
Lulled by fatigue, still half-buried in his own thoughts, Kyo found himself calling out softly, “Master?”
That word had once stuck to his tongue like bitter pitch, turning his stomach and fueling his indignant fury. It was getting easier to say.
“Mn?”
“Why…” Was it even worth knowing, really? When knowing wouldn’t – couldn’t – change anything? “Why did you choose me?”
“‘Choose’?” Kaoru wondered, his voice husky with sleep and satiation. “I didn’t ‘choose’ you. I accepted you as payment because you were all Matsuura had to offer.”
Kyo’s eyes closed again and the sleepy tears that had very nearly dried up began anew, the bond between his consciousness and his despair reconnected abruptly. Kaoru hadn’t asked for him. Kisaki had chosen Kyo – of all of his friends, of anyone he could have tricked into following him into the back room of that club – as his sacrifice, and Kaoru had only accepted him because he would receive no payment otherwise. He hadn’t been taken by an evil man; he’d been given away by a treacherous one.
“I chose to keep you because I needed a new companion, and I don’t think anyone else is worth having you. I tend to covet beautiful things.”
‘He… needs me?’
‘He thinks I’m…?’
“Is that why-…” It occurred to Kyo that maybe he should be quieter, and he bit his tongue. Reminding his master that his collar was deactivated led all too easily to the damned thing being turned back on, and being a nuisance could get him sent back to his cold, lonely cell.
Kaoru ran the fingers of his free hand through his pet’s hair, vaguely amused. “‘Is that why,’ what?”
Kyo’s eyes opened a sliver. “Is that why you did… what you did, for Toshiya?”
The hand in his hair stilled for a moment, and Kyo almost had time to regret his boldness before it resumed its languid stroking motions, Kaoru’s voice holding none of the displeasure his pet had feared. “I suppose I should have expected he’d regale you with tales of my misspent youth. What did he tell you, exactly?”
There was a moment of silence, heavy with uncertainty, before the blonde spoke again, “He told me… that he was sixteen, when he met you. That he was addicted to heroin… that he was… he was a…”
Kaoru’s mouth twitched up into a half-smile. “A whore?”
Kyo nodded, his heart twisting. He didn’t know Toshiya all that well, but after spending the afternoon with the man, had come to mourn the child the blue-haired man had once been. “He said when he propositioned you… you took him home and fed him. He said you helped him get clean, and got him a job in a brothel… that it saved his life… and that it cost you a favor you could never get back.”
Of all the stories Toshiya could have told his pet, Kaoru supposed that particular one was the most telling about his relationship with the blue-haired man. He remembered clearly, even nine years later, how frail the younger man had been when they’d first met. Skeletally thin, hair a matted mess around his face, obviously hurting for his drug of choice, half frozen in a scanty tank-top and mini skirt in the mid-December snow flurries. A far cry from the beautiful, powerful creature he’d become in more recent years.
Getting such a miserable wretch into a whorehouse upscale enough to guarantee the boy’s safety had required he call in a debt that had been decidedly difficult to incur for a nineteen-year-old, and he’d done it without a second thought. It wasn’t an ideal solution – Toshiya was still a prostitute, after all – but it was the best he could do at the time. He was able to make up for it five years ago when he'd ascended to the top of his organization and brought the younger man up with him.
“Did you do it… because he is beautiful? So you could have him for yourself?”
Kaoru smiled fondly, blowing smoke down over his pet’s face, watching the younger man suck it in with a sleepy sort of need. “No.”
For a moment, it seemed like Kaoru wasn’t going to offer anything else, and Kyo deflated a little. He was trying, desperately, to understand the man to whom he’d been given, but it was a daunting task with so much and so little between them. He felt like he could only see half of the situation and the part he was blind to was so vitally crucial to his happiness that without it, he could never be anything but miserable. Perhaps the other half didn't exist, and he was fabricating it subconsciously because the truth was too much to bear, but he reached for it regardless. He realized, with a disjointed sort of confusion, that he’d never even seen his captor so much as shirtless, and it was a barrier between them that he simply couldn’t comprehend.
'What does He-'
“I helped Toshiya because it was in my power to do so. He’s better than the life he tried to choose for himself.”
Kaoru made it all sound so simple, so inconsequential, but the words had a profound effect on Kyo. Toshiya had told him earlier that he’d hated Kaoru for a long time after going to the brothel. They’d insisted on his sobriety, and he hadn’t handled the miseries of rehabilitation from his heroin addiction with any sort of grace. He’d blamed it all on the man who’d put him there. But once he was clean, he’d realized the gift that he’d been given for what it was; for the safety, for the security, for the self-respect that he could never have garnered on his own. Since that day, he’d devoted his life to Kaoru, both in his service and as his friend. It made Kyo wonder…
‘Maybe… maybe, if Toshiya couldn’t see His compassion for what it was at first…’
‘Maybe… if his suffering was necessary for his salvation…'
‘Maybe I…’
- 16
- 17
- 18
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Miwaku no Zakuro