Dictator- Verse One
Summary: Ueda Tatsuya is a slave. Nishikido Ryo is his master. Simple. Yet, how can situations be so complicated? What are their intentions?
Disclaimer: Do we even need these?
This is a song fic. Based on Ueda's Dictator.
“The hell!” Nishikido Ryo, bolting up from his silken bed, threw a vase at Ueda Tatsuya. It hit his left cheek from the position he was in, scrubbing the floor. The china shattered into pieces, leaving a deep wound that starting dripping with blood.
Ueda looked up with wide eyes, wondering what was wrong with his master for this time around. His black hair was tied up into a knot. “Nishikido-sama?”
“You have to be disturbing my rest, don’t you?!” Ryo screamed. “Here I am, trying to get a good night worth of sleep, yet you plod around like an ox, and generally disturb me!”
“I’m sorry master.” Ueda bowed, so that his forehead touched the ground. ‘I will be more silent the next time.”
“You better be.” Ryo growled, before diving under the silken covers again. “Stupid fairy boy.”
Ueda winced when he was absolutely sure that Ryo was sleeping, and tears started dripping from his eyes. He forced himself to endure the pain while sweeping the china fragments away, scrubbed all traces of blood, before rushing out of the room.
As he ran through the complicated hallways of the mansion, several people nodded in sympathy. Being the lord’s personal maid wasn’t the simplest job in the world, and everyone knew about the lord’s deadly temper.
Koyama Keiichiro was waiting for Ueda in the infirmary. He winced at the blood that was trickling steadily from Ueda’s face.
“That might leave a scar, if you’re not careful.” Koyama warned. Ueda just nodded.
Ueda hissed when Koyama starting cleaning the wound with alcohol. “By the great lords of Karma, that hurts.”
“You shouldn’t really invoke the gods like that.” Koyama paused to remove a china splinter. “Karma catches up rather quickly with you.”
“I- ouch- noticed! That stings.” Ueda said resentfully to Koyama, who was now stitching a particularly deep gash.
“Your nerves are very fine here.” Koyama tapped Ueda’s face. “You don’t want to damage that pretty face of yours, do you?”
Ueda sighed. “How many times have I been told that?” He muttered darkly.
“How’s life in general?” Ueda could obviously see that Koyama meant more than just “life.”
Nobody ever said his name outside his rooms. His name was generally considered as a taboo.
“I hate him!” Ueda shouted passionately. “I hate that stupid man!”
“Nearly all his servants do.” Koyama replied.
“That dammned bastard is just so…” Ueda fumbled for words.
Taguchi Junnosuke, the tall stableman, came in, wearing his famous- or infamous- smile. He saw Ueda’s bleeding face, and his smile dropped like a stone in water.
“Uebo!” Junno shouted, enveloping him in a tight hug, efficiently bear-hugging Ueda to death. “What happened to your face?!”
Ueda returned the hug. “Small scratch.”
“No, that is most definitely not a small scratch.” Taguchi looked at him. “It was him, right?”
“Yeah.” Ueda buried his head in Junno’s chest, and breathed deeply. Past the reeking smell of the stables, there was a different scent, one that he could always identify as Taguchi. “Doesn’t matter.”
“If you say so…” Taguchi stayed still for a few moments, breathing in the faint scent of roses, before releasing Ueda. “I have to go wash.”
Ueda smiled, before making a face. He winced; making any face expression hurt. “Yeah… the distinctive manure smell.”
“See ya!” Taguchi scampered off the opposite direction.
“Bye, Junno.” Ueda whispered, watching the tall boy skid around a footman, avoid a near collision with the personal driver of Nishikido's, and finally retreating to the basement.
"Slave!" A harsh voice shouted. Ueda looked around in surpise, along with Koyama, who bowed.
He was there.
"Slave!" Nishikido repeated. "What are you doing?" He noticed the livid wound that stood out from Ueda's pale skin.
"Nishikido-sama?"
"What happened to you, Tatsuya?"
Ueda couldn't speak. The tone of his voice wasn't cold, or even sarcastic. It might have been easier to believe if it was.
But no, Nishikido's tone of voice was different.
His tone, his voice...
It was gentleness.
Horror.
Compassion.
Care.
And even... maybe?
Love.
You are an innocent doll face…
So... How is it? Should I continue?
Comments are love.