All Things Beautiful and Bloody [5/?]
Title: All Things Beautiful and Bloody
Characters: Everybody, this time Mitsuya, Yukito, Shoutarou, Sho-chan, You-chan, Yamada Yuuki, and Tsuchiya Shion.
Genre: Vampire School!AU
Chapter Rating: PG-13????? Contains occasions of vampire biting, blood, and violence involving needles.
Word Count: 5293
Summary: A crisis has been resolved but previous problems are still very present, along with a new one...
Notes: Vampire smooches! Vampires. While writing this chapter I smooched my pillow and vampirized it many a time. I am pleased that this one was shorter than the last one.
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Chapter 5
Mitsuya didn’t look up when Yukito let himself in. He heard his footsteps crash across the stone and soften as he kicked off his shoes. He felt the waves of Yukito’s anger and love and concern push against the agony gushing out of him, cutting a firm path through the floods. But he didn’t look up, not until Yukito crawled on top of him and pressed their foreheads together. He didn’t want to look at Yukito, but Yukito held his gaze and wouldn’t let it go until he was sure Mitsuya had seen all the sorrow and pain and sympathy he had.
“I thought you’d be asleep,” Yukito said at last, rolling off of Mitsuya. His hand circled around Mitsuya’s wrist and felt its way down until their fingers interlaced. Mitsuya made a soft sighing sound and his nails dug lightly into the back of Yukito’s hand. “Do you want to drink?”
It took a long time before he responded, but then it was an “I” followed by a want followed by a flood of sensory information. The rough sweetness of Yamaguchi’s lips followed phantom pains and the shriek of steel against stone followed an image of Yamaguchi as Mitsuya saw him in his fantasies: imposingly tall and wild, naked save for the rain of blood that fell over him, matting his hair and obscuring his eyes. Yukito reached out and found Mitsuya reaching back for him, found Mitsuya above him, stroking his face and looking at but not seeing him. Yukito closed his eyes and waited, but nothing more happened. He opened his eyes again to see bloody trails of tears coursing down Mitsuya’s face. A single drop quivered on the tip of his nose and Yukito leaned up and licked it away. Mitsuya’s arms gave out and he collapsed on Yukito, a shudder running through his body as Yukito reversed their positions, licking the rest of his tears from his face with practiced swipes of his tongue. When he was done, he took Mitsuya’s hand again and lay curled beside him with his head on his chest.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stop her,” Yukito said.
Mitsuya reached up to stroke his hair and Yukito made a pleased sound. “She… wasn’t the one who pushed me away,” he said after a while, a quiver in his voice and a hairline fracture of disbelief splitting the sadness and hurt in his emotional waves.
Yukito tightened his grip. “Really?” What Mitsuya couldn’t put in words came out as feelings - of betrayal, of pain, but mostly of confirmation. The memory was floating just below the surface and Yukito pushed at it, asking Mitsuya for permission. Mitsuya nodded and closed himself off, the single memory standing out like a swollen pustule on his otherwise unblemished psyche. Yukito stabbed into it as gently as he could and it oozed over him, coating him in the visceral experience of being Mitsuya, and of kissing the one person in the world he was really and truly in love with. No sooner had that knowledge, awful in its familiarity, swept over him than time slowed and Yukito-as-Mitsuya was flying backwards, his eyes never leaving Yamaguchi’s. There was nothing of Youichirou in the controlled, perfectly efficient snap of his arms, nor in his face. It was the exact same expression Yamaguchi wore whenever he took a battle seriously, a mask of calm covering anger in constant danger of boiling over. It was an expression Yukito, the best swordsman among the students for twenty-seven years running, had been on the other end of too many times not to recognize. There was no regret or sorrow in his face for what he had done, not even resignation. Only rage.
Yukito didn’t know what else to do, so he kissed Mitsuya’s cheek and whispered “I love you.” Mitsuya drew in a shaky breath. He struggled to a sitting position and pulled Yukito into his lap, resting his chin on the top of his head. He was shaking and Yukito couldn’t make him stop no matter how much reassurance and love he poured into him.
When he finally spoke his voice was calm and steady. “I love him. And I thought that he loved me. But he doesn’t.” His emotions swirled around Yukito, choking and crushing him. “I thought he loved me. I really thought so.”
A flash of a memory hit Yukito and he hooked into it without thinking. It was of Yamaguchi with his chin on Mitsuya’s head the way Mitsuya had his on Yukito’s now. Yukito winced and turned to look up at Mitsuya, loosening his collar and baring his neck. He licked his lips. “Honestly, I hate him. I hate him and her and everyone who did this to you, and I want to make sure they don’t even think about hurting you ever again. But…” He closed his eyes and chose his words carefully. “I’m not sure… he doesn’t love you,” he said, hating the sound the words made. “He might be mad at you right now, for whatever super stupid reason. But he can’t not love you. Nobody can.”
That got something like a laugh. “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend and you have to.”
“And because it’s true,” Yukito said with a pout. “Ne, ne, Micchan, aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want to drink?” He shifted his position so Mitsuya would have easier access.
“Maybe… a little.” Mitsuya kissed his neck, pulling him closer. Yukito let his head fall forward onto Mitsuya’s shoulder as he continued to kiss him, relaxing all his muscles as Mitsuya found a spot he liked and began licking it gently. Yukito’s blood began to rise, slowly, but not reluctantly, with growing pressure. It was almost a relief when Mitsuya bit down and the hot blood began spilling into his mouth. Yukito whimpered and tugged at Mitsuya, shivering as air hit the wound when Mitsuya pulled back to swallow. He let another moan escape him as Mitsuya swept his tongue carelessly over the beads of blood that spilled out before covering the bite with his mouth again and sucking at it greedily. As Yukito gripped the back of Mitsuya’s jacket, his vision blurred and his strength failed and he thought for an instant that it wouldn’t be so bad to let Mitsuya drink his life away.
Then the wound was closing and Mitsuya was back to licking, then kissing him, and Yukito abandoned that thought to get the energy to kiss Mitsuya back. At last he couldn’t sustain it any longer and flopped down onto the bed, panting. “Let’s skip dinner,” he said. “And combat class, and magic, all the classes. Everything.”
“Fine by me.” Mitsuya lay down beside him. “Would you mind much if we never left my room again?”
“I’m good here.” Yukito wiggled closer to Mitsuya. “I’ll protect you, okay? Forever and from everything and with all my power.”
Mitsuya kissed him on the forehead. “I love you too, Yukkii.” They curled together, content to do little more than push their feelings back and forth at each other until dawn came and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
-
It was like a very small war had taken place. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and burned flesh undercut by an unpleasant dampness. Yamada was still unconscious, and the rest of the students were looking dazed. All of them were injured. Three teachers were wandering around administering first aid, or at least Professor Jinnai was. Madame Youichirou was hanging around him looking concerned and Professor Shiramata kept getting distracted from whatever he was doing by something else. It had taken three tries to get him to finish wrapping his arm, and when he’d finished, he’d said something about coming right back after he wrote something down. That had been ten minutes ago, and he was still scribbling away, heedless of anything happening around him.
Shoutarou sighed and slumped against the wall. He was just glad he’d gotten to the far side of the room by the time whatever had happened with that dragon had happened. It had already faded in his memory, like something from the distant past that he was better off not remembering anyway. He remembered something crashing down on him, and waking up from that with a long slice in his arm, but not much else. Judging by the state the others were in, he was either not alone in that, or incredibly lucky that he had blacked out when he did.
Next to Yamada was Tsuchinoya, who was glaring at Professor Jinnai. Every time he came over and made an attempt to heal the burns covering his hands and face, Tsuchinoya would point him towards someone else he thought needed more attention, maybe to keep the professor from getting too close to him. Tsuchinoya had looked uncomfortable and a little afraid ever since he had woken up, and while Shoutarou couldn’t blame him, he thought he looked more scared of himself than worried that Yukito would come back and try to finish them off. It might have had something to do with the temperature of the room, which was cold enough that his breath was occasionally visible.
Professor Jinnai had convinced Madame Youichirou to leave his side long enough to take Negishi back to his room after he’d finished treating his wounds. Then he’d started on… Jun, who seemed to have a broken leg. He was looking distant and didn’t seem to notice Jinnai prodding his leg back into position and splinting it. Maeyama was sitting next to Jun, a hand on his knee. Blood was still dripping from a cut on his cheek, but he made no move to stop it. That, Shoutarou thought, was proof enough of how messed up everyone was. Vampires weren’t meant to bleed, nor were they meant to remain indifferent in the presence of available blood. But nobody else looked twice at it, except perhaps Jinnai, in a medical sense, and Shoutarou didn’t feel any hunger as he looked.
Professor Jinnai finished with Jun’s leg and said something to Maeyama, who shook his head and bent down. Jinnai helped load Jun onto his back and he headed for the door. As he went, Jun seemed to awaken and began licking the blood from Maeyama’s cheek. Shoutarou shivered.
He jumped as Professor Jinnai laid a hand on his shoulder. “You doing okay, Shoutarou?”
“Yeah, I think.” He watched as Professor Shiramata flipped a page in his notebook and looked around quizzically before his eyes fixed on Tsuchinoya and he ran over to him. Jinnai winced and took a step forward, then back. “You were right about Yukito, huh?” Shoutarou said.
“No kidding.” Jinnai put his hand on Shoutarou’s head somewhat absently and began to ruffle his hair. It seemed to calm him somewhat, so he let him.
“Does this… happen often?”
“Depending on your definition of often. Every few years, for sure. The last time it happened, little Junjun lost two classmates. I’m still not sure he’s gotten over that. Well… at least Maeyama will take care of him.” He sighed. “I’m glad we didn’t lose anybody this time around.”
“Me too. Um, if this happens again, what should I do?”
“Stay by me, stay by Madame, or stay by Mitsuya. He would never hurt Mitsuya, and he’ll have to put a lot more power than he probably wants to into getting past us. Probably the only way you’d be really safe is if you were under the headmaster’s direct protection, though.” Jinnai’s eyes went unfocused for a second. “Although it seems he won’t be around for a while. And…” He frowned and looked over at Professor Shiramata again. “You know, I think it would be best if you went back to your room and didn’t come out until dinner time.” But definitely come to dinner, he added, and Shoutarou shuddered ever so slightly at the still-unfamiliar sensation of silent communication.
“Right. I guess I’ll head back then,” he said, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. “Good luck with…” He shrugged and gestured to the ruined room around them. “Stuff.”
Jinnai smirked. “See you later, kiddo.” Before Shoutarou knew what he was doing, he bent down and kissed him on the forehead.
He stumbled out the door and down the corridor. He turned a corner and almost bumped into Madame Youichirou, who steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right, my little Shoutarou?”
All things considered, she was probably the person he minded running into the least. That said, he didn’t want to be around anyone at all. “Ah, yeah, sure. Just going to lie down in my room for a while.” He tried hard not to worry about Professor Jinnai and failed.
“I’ll accompany you there.” She smiled. “Certainly, the school isn’t somewhere one should be wandering around alone, especially after an ordeal such as yours.”
Shoutarou resigned himself for the worst, but her company was surprisingly pleasant. She had lots to say about every piece of artwork lining the hallways, and she didn’t feel the need to touch him constantly, although she did briefly take his arm to lead him around what she said was a spiked pit. “To irritate those immortal foes who trespass seeking to do us harm, and to permanently delay those mortal ones. Ordinarily, we might have you become personally acquainted with such dangers, but since we find ourselves in unexpected circumstances, there’s nothing to be gained from such setbacks.” When he’d pushed at it a bit more, she’d offered to prepare a map showing the major pathways and traps for him, “though I wouldn’t dare take the thrill of discovering the castle’s many mysteries from you.” Shoutarou planned to stay well on the beaten path until he’d learned to… make a dragon that could fly him over any more spiked pits, or something, but he told her that he appreciated it, and got an arm squeeze in return.
From what he could tell, his room was about halfway between the classroom and the dining hall. Yamada’s was down a hallway perpendicular to his, but he had no idea where everyone else lived. He shuddered at the thought that Yukito might be living next to him without him knowing. “Is Negishi’s room around here? I thought I might check on him,” he said.
Madame Youichirou’s smile faded for just a second. “He’s farther away than I recommend you go. Fear not, he is well. You will see him in mere hours, so focus on your own rest for the time being.” Shoutarou hadn’t really been concerned for Negishi, but he couldn’t help but be a little worried after that. He wanted to ask more, but just as Jinnai had, Madame Youichirou kissed him on the forehead and pushed him into his room. “Until tonight’s meal.”
Once the door was safely locked behind him, Shoutarou fell back onto his bed. He burrowed under the blankets and cocooned himself there, breathing as little as possible to keep himself from hyperventilating. Vampires were bad. Vampires were all bad, and the ones that were nice were just pretending so they could bite him, and the ones that weren’t just wanted to kill him. Nothing had changed, except now he had no hope of escape.
He remained curled there, crying whenever he felt impossibly overwhelmed, until a bell rang to announce dinner. Then he pulled himself out, straightened his clothes, and attempted to smile, even if it didn’t quite work. There was nothing else he could do.
There was an envelope outside his door that contained the map he had asked for. He wondered if it would be quicker to toss himself into the nearest spiked pit, then decided he couldn’t give up yet. Perhaps Jinnai and Youichirou didn’t want to eat him after all. It could just have been a mannerism leftover from a time long since past. He couldn’t trust them or anyone, but he could hold out hope.
-
Your Shoutarou is sweet, even if his blood isn’t. He said I was beautiful.
You are beautiful. Thank you for taking him back for me. Now we just need to get Yamada and this Tsuchinoya taken care of before we can focus on… you know.
I don’t suppose we could go on a vacation as well.
Only if you want to leave everything in Mata’s hands, considering Yukito will murder Yamaguchi within the hour if we leave too.
Sadly, I am quite fond of how that man tastes. We must soon commence with the ceremony, then.
Sho stood from his crouching position beside Yamada to run a hand over Youichirou’s face. She caught his hand and held it, grinning. Then she bent down and kissed Yamada, pumping vitality into him until he began to stir. The three of them watched over him protectively, almost lovingly, Sho noted, as he coughed weakly and his eyes slid open. He moaned as he realized the pain of his injuries, and Youichirou stroked his hair. “Fear not, dearest, though it may hurt now, you will be stronger for it when you recover.”
“But it hurts!”
Sho chuckled and turned to the Tsuchinoya. You might let me soothe your wounds too. There’s no sense in suffering unduly.
His expression didn’t change and he didn’t take his eyes off Yamada. There is value in knowing pain.
Spoken like a noble. Would it change your mind to know that a Bloodfast is starting tonight?
The Tsuchinoya didn’t reply. He reached out to touch Yamada, then jerked his hand back and stood, sweeping out of the room with a brassy jangle of bracelets. I will make my own preparations. Your assistance is unnecessary.
As you wish, Sho said in a respectful tone, making a mocking face when he was sure he couldn’t see. He turned back to Yamada and took his hand. “You poor thing. That guy got you good, didn’t he?”
Yamada turned reproachful eyes on him. “Madame Youichirou says you let me smash into the ground even though you softened Tsuchinoya’s fall. Is that true?”
“She might have left out the part about me being bound by magic and incapable of doing much to help until such time as the aforementioned smashing occurred, but unfortunately yes. Let me make it up to you by taking you back to your room.”
He scooped Yamada into his arms and carried him out. Yamada didn’t seem to know how to protest this treatment and resorted to saying “Why are you doing this?” in a pathetic voice. Sho didn’t have to feel anything from her to know that Youichirou was thinking the same thing he was. It would be so easy to take Yamada back to their room and help him “recover” there, and then hurt him a little more, and then fix him again until he was theirs entirely. Yamada didn’t even seem unwilling, if his rising blood and the glances he shot at each of them in turn were any sign, but it wasn’t the time.
Sho hoisted him into a more comfortable position. “Because we love and adore you, of course. And because you’re in no shape to walk, and we’re not going to leave you out to freeze in that burned-out room.” Oh, dearest? Remind me to make Yamaguchi clean that up.
Happily. She brushed a lock of hair out of Yamada’s face. “But mostly the loving and adoring, as you surely know.” Sho thought Yamada might burst a blood vessel if this kept up. He quickly side-stepped into a connecting passage that was a more direct route to Yamada’s room. How disappointing it is to be forced to let go of prey at its weakest moment. I begin to agree with your theories about our beloved headmaster’s spiteful side.
You would have noticed sooner if he didn’t love you way more.
That explains why he gave me charge of the school, does it? I think he just likes to get mine over with all at once.
And because you’d love most of the annoying things he does to me. Sho kicked Yamada’s door open and laid him down on the bed. He cupped his chin in his hand, squishing his lips together and preventing him from speaking. “You, my pretty little vampire, are not to leave your room until the dinner bell. I don’t even recommend leaving your bed. Ordinarily I would find any number of ways to keep you in it…” He paused to let that sink in. “But I cannot spare the time for that today, unfortunately, so I’ve no choice but to trust you.” He let go of Yamada and waited for a response.
“Of course you can trust me,” Yamada said, a smile lighting his face. “I’m the most trustworthy vampire you’ll ever find.” Sho reflected that that was probably a true statement. “But I hope dinner comes soon, I could really do with something to drink.”
You want to tell him?
He’ll find out soon enough. Sho patted Yamada’s face. “We’ll get everything set up as quickly as we can. Feel better.” He kissed his nose. Youichirou let them stare at each other for a second before pushing Sho off and covering Yamada’s face with kisses.
“Wait for us, my darling. We’ll come for you in due time,” she said, clasping his hand to her bosom before dropping it for Sho’s and skipping out of the room.
“Stop kissing me and then running away!” Yamada shouted as the door closed behind them. They started laughing.
“Alas, my flower, we must wait to partake of your nectar,” Youichirou sang.
“Would that your petals would never fade from this world,” Sho finished, and took off running down the hallway. They sent images of Yamada back and forth to each other until Youichirou was laughing so hard he had to drag her along.
“Excuse me, my dear Madame, I’m afraid I haven’t had nearly enough kisses quite yet. Perhaps you might be willing to help me with that?” Sho said, imitating the polite tone Yamada had taken with him earlier. He switched to the voice Youichirou had used in her moga days. “Ya know what they say, dahling. Always leave ‘em wantin’ more, and by the time they realize they’ve had too much, you’ve already sucked ‘em dry.”
“Stop.” Youichirou almost fell over, but Sho picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She hit his back repeatedly until he decided to try something different.
“Oh, Professor Jinnai, sir, I must protest this very un-teacher like behavior. My good behavior has earned me thirty thousand and one passionate kisses from the beautiful Madame Youichirou, but from you I have received only one of a distinctly unromantic nature. Frankly, sir, I feel you owe me something.” He swung Youichirou down into the same bridal-style hold he’d used with Yamada earlier. “Well, my precious student, I would hate to think that an educator such as myself was engaging in such blatantly unfair behavior. Perhaps I might begin making up for it now.” He puckered his lips and Youichirou giggled. “I find that most acceptable, Professor Jinnai, sir.” He kissed her. “One.” He adjusted their positions and kissed her again. “Two.”
They made it to 26 by the time they arrived at their room, although #20 lasted so long it might have counted for another fifteen or so on its own. Sho set her down and made it 27. He opened the door to find that Kamitsuru had already left the equipment on their destroyed bed. Youichirou sighed and leaned on him.
“First things first. Last meals?”
“Are we giving the kids ours?”
“Junjun and Yamada, at the least. They’ll need a little more to keep pace.”
“I can do that, since you’re going in the stabber. I’ll do it for all the new ones and Jun. Maeyama and Mitsuya ought to be fine and if terrorizing people with that dragon really took that much out of Yukito, he deserves whatever happens.”
“Before that…Give me one last sip?”
Sho rolled up his sleeve and offered her his wrist. “I hope you’ll do the same.”
Her response was to drag him into the room and begin pulling off all her clothes -more for the machine than him, but he appreciated it anyway. He considered exhuming the ceremonial clothing from wherever they’d flung it last time and decided against it. They didn’t need it until the end, after all. (Not that they needed it at all, but Kamitsuru loved making fun of the headdresses that came attached to their outfits almost as much as he liked walking around in his fancy cape and preening.) Instead, he took off his outer jacket, wincing at the long gash Yukito’s dragon had torn into it. He’d have to get that mended. He folded it and sent it flying into the wardrobe room.
Youichirou turned around, spreading her arms wide. Sho rolled up his sleeves and grinned. He sent the equipment flying off the bed with a sweep of his hand as he rushed at her and tackled her onto the bed. The bed frame splintered under their weight and listed to the side. Sho tried in vain to keep them on it, but ended up rolling off it, Youichirou landing on top of him. She laughed and kissed him and he ran his hands up and down the length of her spine, reaffirming the shape of each individual vertebra. She flicked her hand at the sagging bed and hoisted Sho up by his collar. The last two legs of the bed snapped, sending the mattress crashing to the floor. A cloud of dust whirled around them as she threw him onto it.
Sho snapped at her, and she at him. She drew first blood when she tore open his previous wound with a rake of her nails, but he didn’t have a layer of clothing to contend with. He scored a series of light slices across her chest while she was still trying to fasten onto the wound and licked the beads of blood from his fingers as she found purchase and bit deep into his arm. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, letting his mind fill with the sensation of Youichirou consuming him.
The instant he felt her tongue begin to withdraw, he flipped her over and sank his fangs into the skin just below her collarbone. Her blood poured into his mouth and he drank it in, ignoring her muffled squeaks and the stripes she was cutting into the back of his neck. When he had filled himself with her taste, he kissed the bite - the puncture wounds immediately covered with fresh skin - and then her lips. She tolerated it, or at least didn’t savage him with her teeth. He kissed her again, then sat up and pulled his hair up. He relaxed into her arms as she began to clean the back of his neck of blood.
Are you satiated, my love?
“I expect I will have to be.”
He grunted in surprise as she bit down on his shoulder. I’m not.
“Yeah, yeah.” He let her drink a little more. She soon kissed the marks away and batted him away.
“Now put that thing on me while I’m still happy and before I decide to run away after all,” she demanded, falling back onto the bed.
Sho fetched the device from the ground. “Where would you like it, my lady?”
“Around the headmaster’s neck,” she said, sending an image to go along. “But I suppose the left arm will do.”
Sho lifted the device and set it around her wrist. It emitted a humming sound and molded itself precisely to the curve of her arm. He found the container and put it over her hand, where it connected to the instrument with a sucking sound. Youichirou hissed as he snapped the collar around her neck, but didn’t argue, even as the spikes drove deep into her neck. He winced in sympathy and stroked her hair before finding the bracelet. “This too?”
I was thinking gloves needed to come back in style… but yes. Perhaps another time we will learn if leaving it off is more efficient. He snapped it on as well.
“Are you ready?” She nodded. A drop of blood ran down her neck and settled at the base of her throat. Sho licked it away and kissed her. “I’ll start it then.” He flipped the switch on and stepped away.
The device began to quiver and pulse in and out. Every time it compressed itself, the tiny needles embedded in it drove into Youichirou’s skin. She was quiet at first, but as the device lengthened and began to expand up her arm, she began to whimper. Sho’s pulse pounded in sympathy, but he couldn’t do anything but watch. He sent tendrils of magic into their den and retrieved six vials. He drew a sharp fingernail against his wrist and let blood drip into the first.
By the time he’d filled five vials, the device had spread to cover half of Youichirou’s body and his arm was starting to throb. Youichirou’s body was beginning to shake and she would cry out with every few pulses of the machine. The container around her hand was beginning to fill with clear liquid. Sho made sure it was connecting properly to the collar and wasn’t going to cover her face, then pulled out five stoppers and closed the vials. He put them away, keeping hold of the sixth.
Youichirou started screaming when only her right leg was left uncovered. Sho clutched at his arm and tried to keep his breathing under control. With shaking fingers he beckoned a chair into the room and fell into it, never blinking and never looking away.
When it was covering her entirely, it stopped pulsing and simply pressed, tighter and tighter. Youichirou let out a despairing wail and then was mostly silent, save for the occasional squeak. When the container was mostly full, the device began pulsating again. It peeled away from her body, squeezing more liquid out as it went. Thankfully, it took less time to shrink back down than it did to expand.
At last it returned to its original size. Youichirou was crying. Her body was covered in a perfect grid of needle marks, her skin swollen red. Sho removed the bracelet and collar, hating that he couldn’t lick those wounds away. He wrestled the device off. As bad as the needles’ work was, her left arm was by far the worst. It had puffed up to nearly twice its original size and the gouges oozed grayish blood. He eventually managed to unhook the needles from her skin. Her hand had remained normal-sized, but was covered in liquid. He pushed the hand to her mouth. “Lick,” he commanded. She screamed when he moved her arm, but sniffled and began to clean her hand with her tongue. He pulled the device off the container and threw it away as hard as he could.
When Youichirou had finished cleaning her hand and let her arm fall back, he took his last vial and filled it with liquid from the container. Taking a deep breath, he poured the liquid into his mouth. It lashed at his throat, scouring it with flame, and continued into his center, then spread throughout his body. He choked back a sob and closed the container, setting it out of sight. Then he wiped away Youichirou’s tears and began bandaging her arm, murmuring words of comfort as she lay motionless, all but dead.
The preparations for the Bloodfast were complete.
Characters: Everybody, this time Mitsuya, Yukito, Shoutarou, Sho-chan, You-chan, Yamada Yuuki, and Tsuchiya Shion.
Genre: Vampire School!AU
Chapter Rating: PG-13????? Contains occasions of vampire biting, blood, and violence involving needles.
Word Count: 5293
Summary: A crisis has been resolved but previous problems are still very present, along with a new one...
Notes: Vampire smooches! Vampires. While writing this chapter I smooched my pillow and vampirized it many a time. I am pleased that this one was shorter than the last one.
--
Chapter 5
Mitsuya didn’t look up when Yukito let himself in. He heard his footsteps crash across the stone and soften as he kicked off his shoes. He felt the waves of Yukito’s anger and love and concern push against the agony gushing out of him, cutting a firm path through the floods. But he didn’t look up, not until Yukito crawled on top of him and pressed their foreheads together. He didn’t want to look at Yukito, but Yukito held his gaze and wouldn’t let it go until he was sure Mitsuya had seen all the sorrow and pain and sympathy he had.
“I thought you’d be asleep,” Yukito said at last, rolling off of Mitsuya. His hand circled around Mitsuya’s wrist and felt its way down until their fingers interlaced. Mitsuya made a soft sighing sound and his nails dug lightly into the back of Yukito’s hand. “Do you want to drink?”
It took a long time before he responded, but then it was an “I” followed by a want followed by a flood of sensory information. The rough sweetness of Yamaguchi’s lips followed phantom pains and the shriek of steel against stone followed an image of Yamaguchi as Mitsuya saw him in his fantasies: imposingly tall and wild, naked save for the rain of blood that fell over him, matting his hair and obscuring his eyes. Yukito reached out and found Mitsuya reaching back for him, found Mitsuya above him, stroking his face and looking at but not seeing him. Yukito closed his eyes and waited, but nothing more happened. He opened his eyes again to see bloody trails of tears coursing down Mitsuya’s face. A single drop quivered on the tip of his nose and Yukito leaned up and licked it away. Mitsuya’s arms gave out and he collapsed on Yukito, a shudder running through his body as Yukito reversed their positions, licking the rest of his tears from his face with practiced swipes of his tongue. When he was done, he took Mitsuya’s hand again and lay curled beside him with his head on his chest.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stop her,” Yukito said.
Mitsuya reached up to stroke his hair and Yukito made a pleased sound. “She… wasn’t the one who pushed me away,” he said after a while, a quiver in his voice and a hairline fracture of disbelief splitting the sadness and hurt in his emotional waves.
Yukito tightened his grip. “Really?” What Mitsuya couldn’t put in words came out as feelings - of betrayal, of pain, but mostly of confirmation. The memory was floating just below the surface and Yukito pushed at it, asking Mitsuya for permission. Mitsuya nodded and closed himself off, the single memory standing out like a swollen pustule on his otherwise unblemished psyche. Yukito stabbed into it as gently as he could and it oozed over him, coating him in the visceral experience of being Mitsuya, and of kissing the one person in the world he was really and truly in love with. No sooner had that knowledge, awful in its familiarity, swept over him than time slowed and Yukito-as-Mitsuya was flying backwards, his eyes never leaving Yamaguchi’s. There was nothing of Youichirou in the controlled, perfectly efficient snap of his arms, nor in his face. It was the exact same expression Yamaguchi wore whenever he took a battle seriously, a mask of calm covering anger in constant danger of boiling over. It was an expression Yukito, the best swordsman among the students for twenty-seven years running, had been on the other end of too many times not to recognize. There was no regret or sorrow in his face for what he had done, not even resignation. Only rage.
Yukito didn’t know what else to do, so he kissed Mitsuya’s cheek and whispered “I love you.” Mitsuya drew in a shaky breath. He struggled to a sitting position and pulled Yukito into his lap, resting his chin on the top of his head. He was shaking and Yukito couldn’t make him stop no matter how much reassurance and love he poured into him.
When he finally spoke his voice was calm and steady. “I love him. And I thought that he loved me. But he doesn’t.” His emotions swirled around Yukito, choking and crushing him. “I thought he loved me. I really thought so.”
A flash of a memory hit Yukito and he hooked into it without thinking. It was of Yamaguchi with his chin on Mitsuya’s head the way Mitsuya had his on Yukito’s now. Yukito winced and turned to look up at Mitsuya, loosening his collar and baring his neck. He licked his lips. “Honestly, I hate him. I hate him and her and everyone who did this to you, and I want to make sure they don’t even think about hurting you ever again. But…” He closed his eyes and chose his words carefully. “I’m not sure… he doesn’t love you,” he said, hating the sound the words made. “He might be mad at you right now, for whatever super stupid reason. But he can’t not love you. Nobody can.”
That got something like a laugh. “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend and you have to.”
“And because it’s true,” Yukito said with a pout. “Ne, ne, Micchan, aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want to drink?” He shifted his position so Mitsuya would have easier access.
“Maybe… a little.” Mitsuya kissed his neck, pulling him closer. Yukito let his head fall forward onto Mitsuya’s shoulder as he continued to kiss him, relaxing all his muscles as Mitsuya found a spot he liked and began licking it gently. Yukito’s blood began to rise, slowly, but not reluctantly, with growing pressure. It was almost a relief when Mitsuya bit down and the hot blood began spilling into his mouth. Yukito whimpered and tugged at Mitsuya, shivering as air hit the wound when Mitsuya pulled back to swallow. He let another moan escape him as Mitsuya swept his tongue carelessly over the beads of blood that spilled out before covering the bite with his mouth again and sucking at it greedily. As Yukito gripped the back of Mitsuya’s jacket, his vision blurred and his strength failed and he thought for an instant that it wouldn’t be so bad to let Mitsuya drink his life away.
Then the wound was closing and Mitsuya was back to licking, then kissing him, and Yukito abandoned that thought to get the energy to kiss Mitsuya back. At last he couldn’t sustain it any longer and flopped down onto the bed, panting. “Let’s skip dinner,” he said. “And combat class, and magic, all the classes. Everything.”
“Fine by me.” Mitsuya lay down beside him. “Would you mind much if we never left my room again?”
“I’m good here.” Yukito wiggled closer to Mitsuya. “I’ll protect you, okay? Forever and from everything and with all my power.”
Mitsuya kissed him on the forehead. “I love you too, Yukkii.” They curled together, content to do little more than push their feelings back and forth at each other until dawn came and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
-
It was like a very small war had taken place. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and burned flesh undercut by an unpleasant dampness. Yamada was still unconscious, and the rest of the students were looking dazed. All of them were injured. Three teachers were wandering around administering first aid, or at least Professor Jinnai was. Madame Youichirou was hanging around him looking concerned and Professor Shiramata kept getting distracted from whatever he was doing by something else. It had taken three tries to get him to finish wrapping his arm, and when he’d finished, he’d said something about coming right back after he wrote something down. That had been ten minutes ago, and he was still scribbling away, heedless of anything happening around him.
Shoutarou sighed and slumped against the wall. He was just glad he’d gotten to the far side of the room by the time whatever had happened with that dragon had happened. It had already faded in his memory, like something from the distant past that he was better off not remembering anyway. He remembered something crashing down on him, and waking up from that with a long slice in his arm, but not much else. Judging by the state the others were in, he was either not alone in that, or incredibly lucky that he had blacked out when he did.
Next to Yamada was Tsuchinoya, who was glaring at Professor Jinnai. Every time he came over and made an attempt to heal the burns covering his hands and face, Tsuchinoya would point him towards someone else he thought needed more attention, maybe to keep the professor from getting too close to him. Tsuchinoya had looked uncomfortable and a little afraid ever since he had woken up, and while Shoutarou couldn’t blame him, he thought he looked more scared of himself than worried that Yukito would come back and try to finish them off. It might have had something to do with the temperature of the room, which was cold enough that his breath was occasionally visible.
Professor Jinnai had convinced Madame Youichirou to leave his side long enough to take Negishi back to his room after he’d finished treating his wounds. Then he’d started on… Jun, who seemed to have a broken leg. He was looking distant and didn’t seem to notice Jinnai prodding his leg back into position and splinting it. Maeyama was sitting next to Jun, a hand on his knee. Blood was still dripping from a cut on his cheek, but he made no move to stop it. That, Shoutarou thought, was proof enough of how messed up everyone was. Vampires weren’t meant to bleed, nor were they meant to remain indifferent in the presence of available blood. But nobody else looked twice at it, except perhaps Jinnai, in a medical sense, and Shoutarou didn’t feel any hunger as he looked.
Professor Jinnai finished with Jun’s leg and said something to Maeyama, who shook his head and bent down. Jinnai helped load Jun onto his back and he headed for the door. As he went, Jun seemed to awaken and began licking the blood from Maeyama’s cheek. Shoutarou shivered.
He jumped as Professor Jinnai laid a hand on his shoulder. “You doing okay, Shoutarou?”
“Yeah, I think.” He watched as Professor Shiramata flipped a page in his notebook and looked around quizzically before his eyes fixed on Tsuchinoya and he ran over to him. Jinnai winced and took a step forward, then back. “You were right about Yukito, huh?” Shoutarou said.
“No kidding.” Jinnai put his hand on Shoutarou’s head somewhat absently and began to ruffle his hair. It seemed to calm him somewhat, so he let him.
“Does this… happen often?”
“Depending on your definition of often. Every few years, for sure. The last time it happened, little Junjun lost two classmates. I’m still not sure he’s gotten over that. Well… at least Maeyama will take care of him.” He sighed. “I’m glad we didn’t lose anybody this time around.”
“Me too. Um, if this happens again, what should I do?”
“Stay by me, stay by Madame, or stay by Mitsuya. He would never hurt Mitsuya, and he’ll have to put a lot more power than he probably wants to into getting past us. Probably the only way you’d be really safe is if you were under the headmaster’s direct protection, though.” Jinnai’s eyes went unfocused for a second. “Although it seems he won’t be around for a while. And…” He frowned and looked over at Professor Shiramata again. “You know, I think it would be best if you went back to your room and didn’t come out until dinner time.” But definitely come to dinner, he added, and Shoutarou shuddered ever so slightly at the still-unfamiliar sensation of silent communication.
“Right. I guess I’ll head back then,” he said, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. “Good luck with…” He shrugged and gestured to the ruined room around them. “Stuff.”
Jinnai smirked. “See you later, kiddo.” Before Shoutarou knew what he was doing, he bent down and kissed him on the forehead.
He stumbled out the door and down the corridor. He turned a corner and almost bumped into Madame Youichirou, who steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right, my little Shoutarou?”
All things considered, she was probably the person he minded running into the least. That said, he didn’t want to be around anyone at all. “Ah, yeah, sure. Just going to lie down in my room for a while.” He tried hard not to worry about Professor Jinnai and failed.
“I’ll accompany you there.” She smiled. “Certainly, the school isn’t somewhere one should be wandering around alone, especially after an ordeal such as yours.”
Shoutarou resigned himself for the worst, but her company was surprisingly pleasant. She had lots to say about every piece of artwork lining the hallways, and she didn’t feel the need to touch him constantly, although she did briefly take his arm to lead him around what she said was a spiked pit. “To irritate those immortal foes who trespass seeking to do us harm, and to permanently delay those mortal ones. Ordinarily, we might have you become personally acquainted with such dangers, but since we find ourselves in unexpected circumstances, there’s nothing to be gained from such setbacks.” When he’d pushed at it a bit more, she’d offered to prepare a map showing the major pathways and traps for him, “though I wouldn’t dare take the thrill of discovering the castle’s many mysteries from you.” Shoutarou planned to stay well on the beaten path until he’d learned to… make a dragon that could fly him over any more spiked pits, or something, but he told her that he appreciated it, and got an arm squeeze in return.
From what he could tell, his room was about halfway between the classroom and the dining hall. Yamada’s was down a hallway perpendicular to his, but he had no idea where everyone else lived. He shuddered at the thought that Yukito might be living next to him without him knowing. “Is Negishi’s room around here? I thought I might check on him,” he said.
Madame Youichirou’s smile faded for just a second. “He’s farther away than I recommend you go. Fear not, he is well. You will see him in mere hours, so focus on your own rest for the time being.” Shoutarou hadn’t really been concerned for Negishi, but he couldn’t help but be a little worried after that. He wanted to ask more, but just as Jinnai had, Madame Youichirou kissed him on the forehead and pushed him into his room. “Until tonight’s meal.”
Once the door was safely locked behind him, Shoutarou fell back onto his bed. He burrowed under the blankets and cocooned himself there, breathing as little as possible to keep himself from hyperventilating. Vampires were bad. Vampires were all bad, and the ones that were nice were just pretending so they could bite him, and the ones that weren’t just wanted to kill him. Nothing had changed, except now he had no hope of escape.
He remained curled there, crying whenever he felt impossibly overwhelmed, until a bell rang to announce dinner. Then he pulled himself out, straightened his clothes, and attempted to smile, even if it didn’t quite work. There was nothing else he could do.
There was an envelope outside his door that contained the map he had asked for. He wondered if it would be quicker to toss himself into the nearest spiked pit, then decided he couldn’t give up yet. Perhaps Jinnai and Youichirou didn’t want to eat him after all. It could just have been a mannerism leftover from a time long since past. He couldn’t trust them or anyone, but he could hold out hope.
-
Your Shoutarou is sweet, even if his blood isn’t. He said I was beautiful.
You are beautiful. Thank you for taking him back for me. Now we just need to get Yamada and this Tsuchinoya taken care of before we can focus on… you know.
I don’t suppose we could go on a vacation as well.
Only if you want to leave everything in Mata’s hands, considering Yukito will murder Yamaguchi within the hour if we leave too.
Sadly, I am quite fond of how that man tastes. We must soon commence with the ceremony, then.
Sho stood from his crouching position beside Yamada to run a hand over Youichirou’s face. She caught his hand and held it, grinning. Then she bent down and kissed Yamada, pumping vitality into him until he began to stir. The three of them watched over him protectively, almost lovingly, Sho noted, as he coughed weakly and his eyes slid open. He moaned as he realized the pain of his injuries, and Youichirou stroked his hair. “Fear not, dearest, though it may hurt now, you will be stronger for it when you recover.”
“But it hurts!”
Sho chuckled and turned to the Tsuchinoya. You might let me soothe your wounds too. There’s no sense in suffering unduly.
His expression didn’t change and he didn’t take his eyes off Yamada. There is value in knowing pain.
Spoken like a noble. Would it change your mind to know that a Bloodfast is starting tonight?
The Tsuchinoya didn’t reply. He reached out to touch Yamada, then jerked his hand back and stood, sweeping out of the room with a brassy jangle of bracelets. I will make my own preparations. Your assistance is unnecessary.
As you wish, Sho said in a respectful tone, making a mocking face when he was sure he couldn’t see. He turned back to Yamada and took his hand. “You poor thing. That guy got you good, didn’t he?”
Yamada turned reproachful eyes on him. “Madame Youichirou says you let me smash into the ground even though you softened Tsuchinoya’s fall. Is that true?”
“She might have left out the part about me being bound by magic and incapable of doing much to help until such time as the aforementioned smashing occurred, but unfortunately yes. Let me make it up to you by taking you back to your room.”
He scooped Yamada into his arms and carried him out. Yamada didn’t seem to know how to protest this treatment and resorted to saying “Why are you doing this?” in a pathetic voice. Sho didn’t have to feel anything from her to know that Youichirou was thinking the same thing he was. It would be so easy to take Yamada back to their room and help him “recover” there, and then hurt him a little more, and then fix him again until he was theirs entirely. Yamada didn’t even seem unwilling, if his rising blood and the glances he shot at each of them in turn were any sign, but it wasn’t the time.
Sho hoisted him into a more comfortable position. “Because we love and adore you, of course. And because you’re in no shape to walk, and we’re not going to leave you out to freeze in that burned-out room.” Oh, dearest? Remind me to make Yamaguchi clean that up.
Happily. She brushed a lock of hair out of Yamada’s face. “But mostly the loving and adoring, as you surely know.” Sho thought Yamada might burst a blood vessel if this kept up. He quickly side-stepped into a connecting passage that was a more direct route to Yamada’s room. How disappointing it is to be forced to let go of prey at its weakest moment. I begin to agree with your theories about our beloved headmaster’s spiteful side.
You would have noticed sooner if he didn’t love you way more.
That explains why he gave me charge of the school, does it? I think he just likes to get mine over with all at once.
And because you’d love most of the annoying things he does to me. Sho kicked Yamada’s door open and laid him down on the bed. He cupped his chin in his hand, squishing his lips together and preventing him from speaking. “You, my pretty little vampire, are not to leave your room until the dinner bell. I don’t even recommend leaving your bed. Ordinarily I would find any number of ways to keep you in it…” He paused to let that sink in. “But I cannot spare the time for that today, unfortunately, so I’ve no choice but to trust you.” He let go of Yamada and waited for a response.
“Of course you can trust me,” Yamada said, a smile lighting his face. “I’m the most trustworthy vampire you’ll ever find.” Sho reflected that that was probably a true statement. “But I hope dinner comes soon, I could really do with something to drink.”
You want to tell him?
He’ll find out soon enough. Sho patted Yamada’s face. “We’ll get everything set up as quickly as we can. Feel better.” He kissed his nose. Youichirou let them stare at each other for a second before pushing Sho off and covering Yamada’s face with kisses.
“Wait for us, my darling. We’ll come for you in due time,” she said, clasping his hand to her bosom before dropping it for Sho’s and skipping out of the room.
“Stop kissing me and then running away!” Yamada shouted as the door closed behind them. They started laughing.
“Alas, my flower, we must wait to partake of your nectar,” Youichirou sang.
“Would that your petals would never fade from this world,” Sho finished, and took off running down the hallway. They sent images of Yamada back and forth to each other until Youichirou was laughing so hard he had to drag her along.
“Excuse me, my dear Madame, I’m afraid I haven’t had nearly enough kisses quite yet. Perhaps you might be willing to help me with that?” Sho said, imitating the polite tone Yamada had taken with him earlier. He switched to the voice Youichirou had used in her moga days. “Ya know what they say, dahling. Always leave ‘em wantin’ more, and by the time they realize they’ve had too much, you’ve already sucked ‘em dry.”
“Stop.” Youichirou almost fell over, but Sho picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She hit his back repeatedly until he decided to try something different.
“Oh, Professor Jinnai, sir, I must protest this very un-teacher like behavior. My good behavior has earned me thirty thousand and one passionate kisses from the beautiful Madame Youichirou, but from you I have received only one of a distinctly unromantic nature. Frankly, sir, I feel you owe me something.” He swung Youichirou down into the same bridal-style hold he’d used with Yamada earlier. “Well, my precious student, I would hate to think that an educator such as myself was engaging in such blatantly unfair behavior. Perhaps I might begin making up for it now.” He puckered his lips and Youichirou giggled. “I find that most acceptable, Professor Jinnai, sir.” He kissed her. “One.” He adjusted their positions and kissed her again. “Two.”
They made it to 26 by the time they arrived at their room, although #20 lasted so long it might have counted for another fifteen or so on its own. Sho set her down and made it 27. He opened the door to find that Kamitsuru had already left the equipment on their destroyed bed. Youichirou sighed and leaned on him.
“First things first. Last meals?”
“Are we giving the kids ours?”
“Junjun and Yamada, at the least. They’ll need a little more to keep pace.”
“I can do that, since you’re going in the stabber. I’ll do it for all the new ones and Jun. Maeyama and Mitsuya ought to be fine and if terrorizing people with that dragon really took that much out of Yukito, he deserves whatever happens.”
“Before that…Give me one last sip?”
Sho rolled up his sleeve and offered her his wrist. “I hope you’ll do the same.”
Her response was to drag him into the room and begin pulling off all her clothes -more for the machine than him, but he appreciated it anyway. He considered exhuming the ceremonial clothing from wherever they’d flung it last time and decided against it. They didn’t need it until the end, after all. (Not that they needed it at all, but Kamitsuru loved making fun of the headdresses that came attached to their outfits almost as much as he liked walking around in his fancy cape and preening.) Instead, he took off his outer jacket, wincing at the long gash Yukito’s dragon had torn into it. He’d have to get that mended. He folded it and sent it flying into the wardrobe room.
Youichirou turned around, spreading her arms wide. Sho rolled up his sleeves and grinned. He sent the equipment flying off the bed with a sweep of his hand as he rushed at her and tackled her onto the bed. The bed frame splintered under their weight and listed to the side. Sho tried in vain to keep them on it, but ended up rolling off it, Youichirou landing on top of him. She laughed and kissed him and he ran his hands up and down the length of her spine, reaffirming the shape of each individual vertebra. She flicked her hand at the sagging bed and hoisted Sho up by his collar. The last two legs of the bed snapped, sending the mattress crashing to the floor. A cloud of dust whirled around them as she threw him onto it.
Sho snapped at her, and she at him. She drew first blood when she tore open his previous wound with a rake of her nails, but he didn’t have a layer of clothing to contend with. He scored a series of light slices across her chest while she was still trying to fasten onto the wound and licked the beads of blood from his fingers as she found purchase and bit deep into his arm. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, letting his mind fill with the sensation of Youichirou consuming him.
The instant he felt her tongue begin to withdraw, he flipped her over and sank his fangs into the skin just below her collarbone. Her blood poured into his mouth and he drank it in, ignoring her muffled squeaks and the stripes she was cutting into the back of his neck. When he had filled himself with her taste, he kissed the bite - the puncture wounds immediately covered with fresh skin - and then her lips. She tolerated it, or at least didn’t savage him with her teeth. He kissed her again, then sat up and pulled his hair up. He relaxed into her arms as she began to clean the back of his neck of blood.
Are you satiated, my love?
“I expect I will have to be.”
He grunted in surprise as she bit down on his shoulder. I’m not.
“Yeah, yeah.” He let her drink a little more. She soon kissed the marks away and batted him away.
“Now put that thing on me while I’m still happy and before I decide to run away after all,” she demanded, falling back onto the bed.
Sho fetched the device from the ground. “Where would you like it, my lady?”
“Around the headmaster’s neck,” she said, sending an image to go along. “But I suppose the left arm will do.”
Sho lifted the device and set it around her wrist. It emitted a humming sound and molded itself precisely to the curve of her arm. He found the container and put it over her hand, where it connected to the instrument with a sucking sound. Youichirou hissed as he snapped the collar around her neck, but didn’t argue, even as the spikes drove deep into her neck. He winced in sympathy and stroked her hair before finding the bracelet. “This too?”
I was thinking gloves needed to come back in style… but yes. Perhaps another time we will learn if leaving it off is more efficient. He snapped it on as well.
“Are you ready?” She nodded. A drop of blood ran down her neck and settled at the base of her throat. Sho licked it away and kissed her. “I’ll start it then.” He flipped the switch on and stepped away.
The device began to quiver and pulse in and out. Every time it compressed itself, the tiny needles embedded in it drove into Youichirou’s skin. She was quiet at first, but as the device lengthened and began to expand up her arm, she began to whimper. Sho’s pulse pounded in sympathy, but he couldn’t do anything but watch. He sent tendrils of magic into their den and retrieved six vials. He drew a sharp fingernail against his wrist and let blood drip into the first.
By the time he’d filled five vials, the device had spread to cover half of Youichirou’s body and his arm was starting to throb. Youichirou’s body was beginning to shake and she would cry out with every few pulses of the machine. The container around her hand was beginning to fill with clear liquid. Sho made sure it was connecting properly to the collar and wasn’t going to cover her face, then pulled out five stoppers and closed the vials. He put them away, keeping hold of the sixth.
Youichirou started screaming when only her right leg was left uncovered. Sho clutched at his arm and tried to keep his breathing under control. With shaking fingers he beckoned a chair into the room and fell into it, never blinking and never looking away.
When it was covering her entirely, it stopped pulsing and simply pressed, tighter and tighter. Youichirou let out a despairing wail and then was mostly silent, save for the occasional squeak. When the container was mostly full, the device began pulsating again. It peeled away from her body, squeezing more liquid out as it went. Thankfully, it took less time to shrink back down than it did to expand.
At last it returned to its original size. Youichirou was crying. Her body was covered in a perfect grid of needle marks, her skin swollen red. Sho removed the bracelet and collar, hating that he couldn’t lick those wounds away. He wrestled the device off. As bad as the needles’ work was, her left arm was by far the worst. It had puffed up to nearly twice its original size and the gouges oozed grayish blood. He eventually managed to unhook the needles from her skin. Her hand had remained normal-sized, but was covered in liquid. He pushed the hand to her mouth. “Lick,” he commanded. She screamed when he moved her arm, but sniffled and began to clean her hand with her tongue. He pulled the device off the container and threw it away as hard as he could.
When Youichirou had finished cleaning her hand and let her arm fall back, he took his last vial and filled it with liquid from the container. Taking a deep breath, he poured the liquid into his mouth. It lashed at his throat, scouring it with flame, and continued into his center, then spread throughout his body. He choked back a sob and closed the container, setting it out of sight. Then he wiped away Youichirou’s tears and began bandaging her arm, murmuring words of comfort as she lay motionless, all but dead.
The preparations for the Bloodfast were complete.