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The Prophet	By : Tcharlatan Category: > Kyo/Kaoru Views: 1201 -:- 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, and do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
February 10^th - 2:00 pm
Kyo was curled up in a plush bed, head buried in downy pillows and silky blankets drawn up to his ears. Hazy burnt-gold eyes stared blankly out the window, watching snow fall silently. He was under the impression that this room was not, as he’d originally assumed, Kaoru’s personal bedroom, since the older man had left him early the previous evening and he was still alone now. In the oppressive silence of the room, unable to hide in sleep any longer, he trapped in his thoughts.
‘He raped me… no, don’t think about that.’
'Why did Kaoru seem so upset about it?'
'Probably just mad Hideki beat him to the punch… stop thinking about that!'
'Has Shinya truly given up on me?'
'He would never put out a card if he wasn’t committed to it…’
He shook his head, hiding his face in the pillow.
‘Don’t be stupid, he had to do it to protect the family, of course the whole family is more important than just me...'
'I never told them anything!'
'Why is Kaoru keeping me up here?'
'…Well, obviously, he wants to fuck me.'
'Why hasn’t he?'
'He must be trying to trick me… am I still going to be interrogated?'
'Is Hideki going to… no, don’t think about that.'
'Should I… unlock the computer?'
'No, NO! I can’t give up on Shinya!'
'Except… he gave up on me. There’s no going back now…'
'But this is the only life I know, what else could I do?'
'Should I… try to make a place here?'
'No, NO! What the hell is wrong with you, Kyo?!'
'You can’t just switch sides!'
'But… they’ll kill me if I ever leave this place…'
'I should just let them and die honorably but…'
'I can’t just lie down and die can I?’
He laughed bitterly into soft sheets, throat torn raw from days of screaming. “Oh, Kunio… I guess you were right. I’m not cut out for this business.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You are, if nothing else, surprisingly resilient.”
The low voice from the doorway made the blonde head rise, dark gold eyes peering over the edge of the pillow. Kaoru walked in, shutting the door softly behind him. Kyo didn’t hear the lock click, but it hardly seemed to matter given his options should he try to escape.
“You’re looking better this afternoon.”
“There’s something wrong with you,” Kyo accused.
Long legs in pressed black wool crossed casually as the older man settled on the edge of the bed. “Oh?”
“You’re not supposed to be nice to prisoners and hostages!”
Black hair swayed as Kaoru nodded sagely. “Mmm, I suppose it must seem a bit unorthodox to you. The Terachis are renowned for their brutal treatment of enemies of the family.”
Kyo snarled, frustrated. “That’s how you get information out of people! You have to know that; Hideki works for you, and you seem to get plenty of use out of him! Dozens of families all over the country don‘t cower at your name because of your legendary compassion; Kaoru Fucking Niikura is not supposed to be a damn nursemaid!”
“That’s true enough.” Kaoru leaned back on his hands, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “You asked me before, if all of my prisoners got such personal attention from me.”
After a pause, Kyo nodded slightly. “You gave me a bullshit answer.”
“I did. Truthfully, your looks are only a small fraction of what drives me to keep bringing you up here, instead of leaving you downstairs for my people to deal with as I normally would. Certainly I find you attractive enough, but I have countless attractive men and women at my disposal.”
Kyo was familiar with the perks of the empire. They were all the reasons people joined criminal families, and all of the things he sacrificed in order to remain anonymous. For all the good that anonymity had done him.
“No, I deal with you myself because I find you terribly fascinating to watch. Every time you come to me, you’re more broken and beaten down than the time before. And yet, every day you come back as stubborn and angry as ever. Tending your wounds is like stirring the ashes of a phoenix.”
“And what happens when I burn out for good? You discard me and return to your hoards of concubines?”
“Those are awfully loaded questions, little one.”
Kyo bristled at the endearment. “I’m not a child.”
“I had noticed. Are you offering to ‘burn out?’ To give up and tell me what I want to know? Or are you afraid of being discarded when it happens?”
The blonde looked away, scowling. “I just want to know where I stand. If Tezuka or Nakago had captured me, I would at least know what to expect.”
“Tezuka would never have been able to figure out who you are. Even with my resources, it was half luck. Nakago… if he did manage, he’d have killed you after the second day. He’s always been one for sending bloody messages.”
Kyo leaned forward, crossing his arms on top of his knees and resting his chin on them, too tired to keep up his bluster when Kaoru remained so unruffled. “So, what happens to me after a week with the Niikura family?”
“You get dressed. We’re going out tonight.”
February 10^th - 7:00 pm
Sitting in the back of a glossy black limo, tucked close to Kaoru’s side, Kyo found he could hardly hear anything through the pounding of his own heart. Die and Akio were comfortably settled in the side seat to the left, Masanori and a new guard named Yasunari on the right, all of them wearing identical crisp black suits. Kaoru was as immaculate as always in a charcoal grey suit and subtle silver jewelry, looking particularly smug. Kyo felt oddly exposed in a black, ribbed tank top and baggy black pants, even if the outfit was wholly unassuming. Even his bandages were neatly rewrapped with pristine white cloth.
He was out of his little cell, out of Kaoru’s ‘guest room,’ out of the building that hid the Niikura operations. Only a day ago this would have been the answer to his prayers, but now… now he didn’t know what he wanted. Should he try to escape, with a price on his head and nowhere to go? Or should he betray every value his adoptive father had instilled in him and turn his back on his family simply for the sake of survival?
Thin hands twined through his hair and cool lips brushed over his ear. “Relax.”
Kyo looked around the limo, unsettled by the uncomfortably intimate gesture, but the other men were all conspicuously double-checking their earbuds and weapons. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“A little bar out on my southern border. Don’t worry so much, we’re just going to have some drinks and meet some... friends.”
Kyo tensed further. The vast majority of Kaoru’s southern border butted up against the northern edge of Shinya’s. The limo pulled up in front of a building that flashed with neon and throbbed with music, hoards of scantily dressed twenty-somethings milling about the sidewalk in front. Dark gold eyes peered out of tinted windows, catching on the all-too familiar image of an elaborate flower dripping red.
“The Bloody Lotus…” Kyo’s eyes were wide, and he was frozen in his seat. The driver had come around to open the door, and soon only he remained inside. His captor’s hand tugged lightly on his upper arm, not expecting the resistance it met.
Chocolate eyes turned back curiously. “Mr. Nishimura?”
“I can’t go in there! This bar is barely yours, what if there are Terachi people in there? They’ll kill me!” Kyo was hissing, pushing at Kaoru’s hand. Of all the places they could have gone! This bar was in territory contested by the Niikuras and the Terachis, and he had visited it nearly every day as a child, and three times a week since he turned sixteen. Anyone who knew him would be looking for him here.
“They will absolutely not. You’ll be with me the whole time, and it’s a crowded bar. No one’s going to risk shooting you.”
“Then they’ll grab me and take me somewhere quiet so they can murder me in peace! These people don’t exactly take hits as polite suggestions!”
“Kyo!” A firm hand gripped his chin and forced him to meet stern black eyes. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
The blonde stayed firm for several long moments until the conviction in Kaoru’s voice made him gave in and allow himself to be guided out of the car. What choice did he have, really? Kaoru kept Kyo close to his side and Die shadowed the older man on his other side. The other three formed a protective shield behind them. A pair of bulky men in sleeveless shirts and sagging shorts nodded and unclipped a heavy red rope to allow them into the overcrowded building.
Directly to the right, an expansive bar stretched out in front of them, reaching all the way to the back of the club. Above the bar was a roped-off alcove partially obscured by curtains, offering inhabitants a secluded view of most of the bottom floor. To the left a short ramp opened out onto a large dance floor, writhing with bodies and flashing a rainbow of colors hypnotically. Past the dance floor was a raised stage with a DJ station off to the far left and a large projector screen shining lyrics and videos onto the wall. In front of the screen stood a smaller monitor and four microphones for karaoke.
Kyo shivered, eyes closing for one blissful moment as music washed through him and made his chest throb with every beat. He hadn’t noticed how much the silence of the past week had been eating away at him until now, and for a moment only the light pressure on his back was keeping his feet moving. It was karaoke night and though one could hardly hear the person shyly singing on the stage over the music, the blonde yearned to take up the familiar microphone. He was so distracted watching the singer that he nearly tripped going up the stairs to the private alcove.
“We’re a bit early yet,” Kaoru murmured, sliding into a comfortable chair behind a large table.
Die settled next to his boss while Akio and Yasunari took up their positions on either side of the entryway. Masanori took up a post by one of the curtains, surveying the floor below. Kyo was awkwardly trying to decide what to do with himself when a soft cry sounded from the stairs and made him jump, startled. He was frozen with shock as he was brought into a crushing embrace, face pressed deeply into pale cleavage while a low voice chattered away in French over his head.
Around the room, hands reached into jackets for guns, halted by a sharp gesture from Kaoru. The woman currently fawning over his captive was a bartender he was familiar with, and considered trustworthy. She was in her late forties, a professionally tight bun of hair on top of her head contrasting with a low-cut top revealing a thick coating of tattoos. She was tall and lean, but on the muscular side with a severe-looking face and had obvious strength in her frame.
She released Kyo from the crushing hug only to cup his face. “Look at you, beau! You’re all beat up! What happened to you, we’ve all been so worried!” Her voice was thickly accented, and a bit guttural.
Kyo smiled shakily up at his old friend, trying to hide the excruciating pain her welcome had inflicted. “I’m okay, Miss Clara. I was… ah… in a car accident.” His tongue still fumbled over the awkward syllables in her name, after all this time.
“What?! Someone hit you?! Are you okay, why didn’t you come tell us?!” She eyed Kaoru suspiciously, leaning down to whisper into Kyo’s ear. "Do you need help? Should I call the police?"
He shook his head quickly - there was no way that could end well - “No, no, I’m fine. I was just in the hospital for a while. They… thought I might have a concussion. I’m just… hanging out with some friends tonight.” The lies sounded stiff even in his own ears.
Bright blue eyes looked him over critically, but she accepted the story. “Well, beau, it’s karaoke night. You better get up on that stage and sing something extra nice for making me worry like that. People have been bailing out early all week since you stopped showing up!”
Kyo fidgeted uncomfortably and gestured to his neck. “My, ah… my throat is kind of sore…”
“Mais, non! We’ll get you some honey tea and you’ll be just fine! Mon beau does not miss karaoke night for a little cough. I’m sure your… friends can spare you for a song or two.”
Kaoru nodded graciously, hands folded under his chin, eyes bright with deeply amused interest. “Of course.”
“See? I’ll have Kouji queue up something nice for you to sing for me.” She ruffled his hair affectionately before turning to address Kaoru, abruptly cold and businesslike. “And shall I prepare your usual, Mr. Niikura?”
“Yes, Ms. Benoit, that would be lovely.” Kaoru, the smug bastard, could produce a very passable French accent to properly pronounce the name.
She nodded and swept out of the room as suddenly as she’d come, and Kyo was left feeling impossibly awkward under the curious stares of the other men in the room. He sat slowly, leaving a couple chairs between himself and Kaoru, and splayed his fingers carefully on the table. This situation was very quickly spiraling out of his realm of comprehension, and he was struggling to reconcile the clash of his captor and the tiny shred of a social life he thought he’d never see again. Kaoru leaned forward, and even Die was perked up with interest.
“So, Mr. Nishimura.”
Kyo winced. “…Yeah?”
“It would seem you’re somewhat… famous here. I had no idea.”
The blonde fidgeted, picking at a shallow cut in the table’s surface. It had nothing to do with Shinya or the Terachi family, so, “…My dad was a bouncer here before he went to jail, and Clara used to let me hang out behind the bar after school until he was off.”
Die grinned. “People leave when you don’t show up for karaoke?”
Kaoru nodded, a smirk tugging at one corner of his lips. “I’ll admit to a certain curiosity as well.”
“You want me to go up on stage, by myself, and announce my presence to the dozens of people in this bar that currently want to kill me?” Kyo’s voice was incredulous.
“Akio will go with you, of course. He’ll be right behind the stage curtains if anything happens.” Kaoru nodded decisively, sitting back in his chair. “Some entertainment will be nice while we kill time.”
Kyo knew he should argue more – it was a terrible risk considering the price on his head, and part of him bristled at being relegated to Kaoru’s entertainment – but the lure of once again being on stage, surrounded by music, singing to a writhing, cheering crowd… The temptation was strong, and half-hearted protests died on his lips. When Clara returned with tea for him and dark beers for Kaoru and Die, he was quickly bustled onto the stage by the older woman and familiar voices called out greetings from all around him. Suddenly he was there, creaking wood underfoot, a cheap microphone clutched lovingly in one hand, lights flashing in and out of his eyes, and a cheerful wave from the DJ as a new song started up. To be in control, to be strong and confident again, if only for a brief time...
Familiar music blasted out of the speakers, guitars and drums pounding out an introduction that made him shiver with anticipation, and he let his reservations die. His pain faded, his anxiety swallowed by the thrill of being on stage, surrounded by powerful sound and cheered on by people who loved him. Those in the crowd that recognized him – and there were many – expected a show, and he wasn't about to disappoint. This might be his last time on this stage. His feet braced, his hips swung and rocked lithely to the beat, and someone called for him to take off his shirt. It wouldn’t be the first time. One hand pushed up the bottom edge of his shirt, revealing abs sharply defined by the weight he’d lost, and he stuck out his tongue in a raunchy gesture.
The music settled into a powerful, rocking beat and Kyo’s entire body twisted in time with the rhythm as he began to sing, his voice pouring into the microphone with slowly-building force. “Never again will I be dishonored, and never again will I be reminded of living within the world of the jaded.”
One hand stretched out to the side, microphone cord wound between his fingers, body arched back and head tilted to expose a long, bruised neck as he opened up. “They kill inspiration; it’s my obligation to never again allow this to happen. Where do I begin? The choices are endless – denying the sin: my art, my redemption. I carry the torch of my fathers before me.”

The song detailed in this chapter (I'm Alive) and continued in the next chapter, is property of the band Disturbed. I do not own any rights to it, and do not profit from use of its lyrics.
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The Prophet