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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
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The room Kisaki lead his roommate into was pleasant enough at first glance – quiet, warmly lit, and smelling only faintly of cigarette smoke and quality liquor – but Kyo was somehow more uncomfortable to be there than he had been in the club. Men in black suits stood on either side of the doorway from the hall, just as bulky and silently intimidating as the man guarding the other door had been. In a large, semicircular booth in the center of the room, four men smoked and nursed alcoholic beverages. Their conversation had cut off abruptly when Kisaki and Kyo walked into the room, and were regarding the newcomers with open stares. Kisaki kept his eyes on the floor, fists clenched nervously at his sides, as his roommate returned the stares with his own scrutinizing gaze.
The two men on the left end of the booth were possessed of the same graceful androgyny as Kisaki, and one of them was just as tall. The shorter was particularly feminine, though perhaps unintentionally so, with auburn hair pulled into a loose ponytail and wearing a sleeveless white shirt with a high collar and ruffles down the front over tailored grey slacks. He had a laptop in front of him, and was the only one at the table not smoking. The taller had royal blue bangs delicately framing his face in front of a spray of black and blue dreadlocks, and wore leather pants under a black and white striped tank top. His full lips curved into a sultry smile as he took a drag on his cigarette and ran his eyes openly, brazenly, over the two men in the doorway. Next to him was another man Kisaki’s height with red and black hair pulled up into a stylishly messy faux-hawk, wearing tight jeans and a fitted jacket. He had exotic eyes – sharp, like a cat’s, and wickedly intelligent – that narrowed with interest over a half-full beer glass.
They were all staring, but it was the man on the far right that set Kyo on edge. He was shorter than the two in the middle, with pitch black hair hanging loose to just above his shoulders, and wore a pristine white dress shirt and a red tie under a black vest that matched his pressed wool slacks. He’d be the least remarkable of the four, if not for the striking features of his angular face. His eyes were hawkish – intense and predatory, set over high cheekbones and a slightly-hooked nose – and his gaze weighed heaviest on the two men that had interrupted his meeting. The blonde wasn’t sure how he’d come to the conclusion that this man was in charge of the gathering, but he was almost certain that it was the case. Everything about him, from his expression to his posture to his perfectly tailored clothing, simply screamed authority and confidence. The smirk that spread slowly across his thin lips was entirely cold, and Kyo found himself pressing closer to Kisaki’s side uneasily.
“Ah, if it isn’t our dear friend Mr. Matsuura,” the hawk-eyed man drawled. “You made it. We were starting to get worried about you.”
The tall redhead’s sharp eyes were bright with mischief as a wicked grin revealed perfect, white teeth. “Terribly worried.”
“We thought maybe you were lost, and we were going to have to come find you,” the dreadlocked man added with a sweet smile.
“But here you are. And this is the gentleman you mentioned? The dancer?”
“Yes,” Kisaki answered reluctantly.
The leader’s sharp gaze moved from Kisaki to Kyo. “Mr. Matsuura was telling us about you earlier. I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name, though.”
Kyo offered a bow, tentative but polite. Kisaki’s friends were unsettling – why did they keep addressing Kisaki so formally? – but friends nonetheless. He would be civil. “It’s Kyo. Kyo Nishimura.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nishimura. My name is Kaoru Niikura, and these are my friends Die Andou,” he indicated the redhead, “Toshiya Hara,” the dreadlocked man, “and Shinya Terachi.” the auburn-haired femme. “Now, pleasantries aside, exactly what have you brought for me, Mr. Matsuura?”
Kisaki dug a blank CD in a flimsy jewel case out of his bag, moving forward somewhat grudgingly to set it on the table. Kyo tilted his head curiously at his roommate. Kaoru looked to the auburn-haired man – Shinya – and gestured lazily at the disc. The slender man plucked it up with long, delicate fingers and popped open the case, sliding the CD smoothly into his laptop. The little machine whirred softly to life as its owner turned the screen to face Kaoru.
Kaoru watched the laptop with obvious interest. Kyo couldn’t see it from where he stood, but he recognized the poorly-recorded music and background chatter coming from the speakers immediately. It was a video of him, wearing a kimono-like vinyl and lace robe with a cinched waist, hair teased into wild spikes, face painted exotically, dancing on a raised platform above a bustling crowd. Kisaki had brought a digital camcorder to Kyo’s work one night several months back, and filmed the blonde’s show on a whim. Kyo was actually somewhat fond of that video – his favorite DJ had been working that night, and he had honestly enjoyed the music, so his performance had been particularly enthusiastic – but it had no place here, among people meeting him for the first time. He frowned confusedly at Kisaki.
“Saki, why did you bring that?”
Kisaki stood with his head bowed so his hair obscured his face, one hand coming up to rest over his mouth and the other wrapped anxiously around his chest. Kyo began to worry in earnest.
“What’s wrong?” He whispered furtively to his younger friend, tugging on the taller man’s sleeve to try to get his attention. “These friends of yours…”
The dreadlocked man – Toshiya – tossed back a shot of something pale pink and set the empty glass down hard on the table as he stood. He slid gracefully past Shinya and walked up to Kyo, reaching out one hand towards the blonde’s face. Kisaki moved away from them quickly. Kyo bristled at the invasion of his personal space and tried to step backwards, but found himself backing into one of the hulking men in suits that had been standing by the door. Thick hands came up to grip the blonde’s shoulders, holding him in place.
“What the-?!”
“Shh…” Toshiya cooed with a dangerously sweet smile, reaching out again. “Just let me look, sweetheart.”
Kyo felt himself start to panic a little as the dreadlocked man grabbed his chin firmly, and used it to turn his face this way and that with a critical eye. “What are you doing?!”
“Hmm… you have nice skin…”
Kaoru took a languid sip of amber liquor, cocking his head to one side. “He’s to repay your debt, then?”
“Yes,” Kisaki whispered.
“‘Debt?’ What the hell ‘debt’ is he talking about?! What the fuck is happening, Kisaki?!” Kyo hissed anxiously, bucking against the men holding him. “Let me go!”
“I’m sorry, Kyo… I’m so sorry…” was all Kisaki could say.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” the blonde demanded as Toshiya’s hand left his chin and moved down to one of the clasps on his overalls. “GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!”
“Such language,” Kaoru sighed, looking pointedly to Die.
“Shut him up,” the redhead commanded.
“Excuse me?!”
When one of the suited man’s hands left Kyo’s shoulder and Toshiya took a step back, the blonde moved desperately to get away from both of them.
Kisaki reached a hand out anxiously. “Please don’t-!”
The hand came back down before Kyo could take more than a single step, a heavy fist crashing against the side of his head and knocking him out cold. Kisaki clamped both hands over his mouth with a gasp as his friend collapsed to the floor in a heap of lifeless limbs. Toshiya knelt next to the unconscious figure and rolled it over so Kyo was lying on his back.
“Oh gods…” Kisaki whimpered.
“That’s better. Shinya, remind me again, how much does Mr. Matsuura owe us now?” Kaoru asked his younger friend, sliding the laptop back across the table.
Shinya began typing purposefully. “…Approximately ten million yen.”
“I see. And would Mr. Nishimura be enough to pay off that amount in our service?”
“Not sure, but I can find out. Age?”
There was a moment of tense silence before Kaoru shot Kisaki a warning look. “Answer the question, Mr. Matsuura. His age?”
“H-He’s twenty three!” Kisaki felt his stomach constrict painfully. He’d never considered that Kyo might not be enough to pay Kaoru off.
‘This is really happening, isn’t it?’
“Heh, really? He looks way younger,” Die observed casually.
“Any family?” Shinya asked.
“N-No, they’re… he hasn’t spoken to them in years.”
‘I’m really giving him away…’
“Outstanding debts or contractual obligations?”
“No…”
‘He would never have been stupid enough to get himself into a mess like this!’
“Education?”
“Um, h-he… he dropped out of high school.”
‘He got me out of so many tight spots… but he’s not going to be there to help me, anymore… he’s not going to be there at all…’
“STIs or other transferable ailments?”
Kisaki shuddered. “No! Why do you need-”
Kaoru cut him off. “You owe me a considerable sum, Mr. Matsuura. I need to be sure your friend here is a worthwhile investment of that money.”
“Physical disabilities of any kind?”
“He… he needs glasses to read… and his hearing’s a little messed up on the left side…”
‘He’s not going to curl up with me on the couch to watch TV…’
“Drug use?”
“He smokes, but that’s it.”
‘He’s not going to kick the rock out of the doorway anymore…’
“Skills?”
“W-what do you mean?”
Shinya looked up from his screen, his face perfectly neutral. “I mean, besides dancing, does he have any other useful expertise?”
“I don’t know. He… he can cook? And… he cleans…” Kisaki’s face tightened with guilt. “He sings.”
‘I’m not going to wake up every morning to him singing in the shower…’
“Toshiya?” Shinya called.
Kisaki clenched his fists until his nails dug little grooves into his palms.
‘This is really happening… Gods, please forgive me…’
Toshiya had unclasped Kyo’s overalls and pulled them down low around his hips to expose his torso. He was holding the blonde’s right arm up, delicately turning it over to examine the tattoos staining the slender limb. “He’s in good shape. No track marks here, but there’s a little bit of scarring on the chest and wrists. It looks self inflicted. Some ink, pretty high-quality. More piercings than he’s wearing jewelry in. He looks sweet enough when he’s not all pissed off. I’d say used, but still very usable.”
“Hmm… he’s not worth much,” Shinya informed Kaoru. “You could re-sell him as-is for maybe seven million. As an employee, he’d have the debt paid off in roughly ten years, taking cost of living into account.”
“Oh, really? What a bother… I suppose there’s nothing for it, though.” Kaoru thought for a minute, then nodded, waving a hand at Kisaki. “Very well, Mr. Matsuura, we’ll take him. You may consider your debt to me repaid.”
Kyo was beginning to stir a bit, face scrunching painfully. Kisaki eyed his roommate regretfully as he backed away towards the hall. “Th-thank you, Mister Niikura!”
Kaoru held up a hand abruptly, causing Kisaki to freeze in his tracks. “Actually, Mr. Matsuura, wait just a moment, won’t you? I would like to give you a gift.”
“A… A gift…?”
Kaoru’s dark eyes sparkled as a wicked smile tugged at his lips. “I can see that you care for this young man. Giving him up must be terribly difficult for you, and I would hate for you to feel like our exchange has been… less than fair. Toshiya, would you fetch something appropriate to offer as a ‘thank you’ to our friend?”
Toshiya smirked and dipped his head obligingly before disappearing down the hallway. Kaoru refocused his attention on his drink, his interest in Kisaki fading as their business was concluded. Die leaned over to murmur something in the man’s ear, earning a soft chuckle. Shinya packed away his computer and sipped daintily at his martini, eyeing Kisaki with just a touch of disdain. One of the men in suits hauled Kyo up by the arm to move him off to the side, the jostling motion shaking the blonde rapidly closer to consciousness. When Toshiya returned, he pressed a small plastic case into Kisaki’s hands with a wink. The effeminate redhead opened the box, confused, and blanched at its contents. One hundred pristine plastic disks, stacked neatly in four rows.
“I trust casino chips are an adequate token?” the dreadlocked man purred.
“Y-… yes, of… of course…” Kisaki breathed, snapping the box shut and turning back towards the hallway.
“See you at the tables, Kisaki!” Die called, amused.
“Nh… Saki?”
Kyo’s voice was a little slurred, weak and confused as it followed him away from that room. Kisaki hunched his shoulders a bit, shaking his head against the sound and increasing his pace.
‘I didn’t have a choice! It was him or me!’
“Kisaki what… where are you going? Hey, let me go! Kisaki, wait! Don’t leave me here!”
The voice was stronger now, aware and rising with panic. The redhead’s hand landed on the doorknob leading back into the club, shaking but resolute.
‘I’m sorry, Kyo!’
“KISAKI?!”
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Miwaku no Zakuro