Fanfiction
Title: In the Eye of the Viewfinder
Characters: Ritsuka, Soubi and others
Rating: T
Summary: Twenty-one-year-old Ritsuka works as a photographer. Sometimes, he does a scoop for the police with his friend, Keita, despite his fighter's protests. One day, they get the scoop of their lives: nailing one of the most dangerous yakuza in Japan.
...
The Right Hand Man
...
- Well, well, well - came a gruff voice from behind his back - What do we have here? A kitten playing with a camera - the barrel was pressed even more strongly than a second before.
Ritsuka felt himself go icily cold, his heart stopping. Running was pointless, the guy would blow up his head before he'd manage to take a step.
- Two kittens - another voice corrected - This one tried to show his claws.
Ritsuka stiffened, afraid of the meaning behind those words. Was Keita…? Oh gods.
- We need to pull them out, then - the first one smirked.
Ritsuka heard a "thump" when Keita was unceremoniously thrown to the ground next to him. Thank gods he was alive. He looked a little roughed up, probably because of his attempts at escaping.
- And who exactly may you be? - a big man, the owner of the second voice, crouched in front of Ritsuka, lifting his chin up with meaty fingers - Satō's little pets, running around without a leash? He should know better than to let his kittens go alone. Bad things happen to strays - he grinned, showing his impressive teeth.
Ritsuka gulped, suddenly dizzy. He'd always thought that facing criminals was like fighting in a battle. Only now did he realise that he had no powers in a real world, especially without Soubi.
Besides, the guy in front of him was one sick bastard. He should finish him off, not go on and on about fucking kittens. So what he still had his ears? He was waiting for the right moment…
Only this moment may never come.
Next to him, Keita was shaking uncontrollably, his teeth clattering like crazy. They were going to die, they were going to die…
The guy took out his gun, pointing it to Keita's head.
Keita closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down a little at least, to face his death with more dignity. He failed.
As in a trance, he saw the gangster level the barrel so it was almost touching his forehead. The man sent him a sadistic smirk, wiggling his eyebrows.
Keita felt ready to retch.
Then, with the same malicious expression, the guy took the gun away.
To point it at Ritsuka.
Keita noticed with a strange detachment that there were now two guns pointing at his friend, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. Not relief at having been spared (for a moment), not dread at seeing his friend in such predicament.
Nothing.
The, he heard a shot.
...
Keita screwed his eyes shut when the shot rang.
Ritsuka…
He forced himself to open them again.
He wished he hadn't.
Ritsuka was lying there, flat on the ground a gun next to him…
Wait, a gun?
Keita quickly looked for the guy in front of him. He was still there, crouching, glaring spitefully at someone to his left.
Keita followed his trace of sight. The hot glare was focused on a skinny man standing with one hand on his narrow hip, the other, wielding a gun, lazily hanging on his side. The guy couldn't have been over thirty, what made him the youngest around there, except Keita and Ritsuka, of course. The question was, what was he doing there?
He didn't look like a gang member. The others were wearing suits and coats, while he had tight black jeans, a black turtleneck and a short leather jacket. A black one.
Keita was opening his mouth to inquire about the man, when the gangster in front of him spat.
- Just what was that? You could've shot me!
The guy in black tilted his head.
- Could but didn't, count yourself lucky - he smirked - And pick up your gun before the guy snatches it, will you?
The man grunted, reaching for his gun. Actually, Keita didn't even think about taking it.
- If I were him - the newcomer began to play with a strand of his long black hair - You'd be dead. Count yourself twice as lucky.
- Alright, enough - the third man snapped, irritated - Why did you do that?
The skinny guy let go of his hair.
- Change of plans.
- Says who?
- Me. Iskandar. Whatever - the newcomer shrugged, strolling closer. His keen black eyes were at odds with his nonchalant pose and unconcerned demeanour.
- And you didn't feel the need to share it with us? - the crouching man was barely containing his anger.
The other beamed at him.
- Nah, too boring. I don't do boring, it's… Boring, I guess - he sent him a sheepish look.
- Fuck you, Akame - the man spat, shaking his head - You'll get us killed one day. If not by sending us on a mission impossible, then by turning Iskandar on us because of something like today.
A feral grin appeared on Akame's face.
- You got it right - he chuckled - Can't wait to see that day. Oh, don't worry - he noticed a disgusted look he was receiving - If I wanted to do that, you'd have been long dead. You're useful, I don't eliminate useful - he smiled sweetly - Neither does Iskandar.
The other two men gritted their teeth, but neither dared to challenge the guy further. With a sinking feeling, Keita realised that he was most probably the feared right hand of Iskandar.
In the meantime, Akame leisurely strolled to where Ritsuka was lying unconscious, pouting when he noticed the boy wasn't responding even though he gently poked him with his foot. Keita really wished to stop him, but deep inside he was far too afraid to cross the guy in any way. So he sat there, observing the still crouching guy reaching out to pick Ritsuka up.
His hand was millimetres from Ritsuka, when Akame snapped.
- Don't. No one touches him, ¿entendido? - he showed his canines in a predatory manner.
The hand was withdrawn hurriedly.
Akame kneeled down and pulled Ritsuka up, helping him to lean on Keita. Keita on his part was too terrified to even breath, what didn't go unnoticed by Akame.
- How sweet - he chirped in a high-pitched voice - Your fear, that is. Like honey - Akame's almost black orbs focused on Keita's light ones. They were like dark bottomless pits, gleaming oddly with something unhealthy. Something sick.
Keita literally felt himself paling. Gods, he needed help there.
Fortunately, Ritsuka chose that moment to stir and wake up.
Groggily, Ritsuka opened his eyes, trying to remember what exactly had happened and whether he was just waking up to his afterlife.
He groaned, focusing his vision on an oval object that seemed to be uncomfortably close to his face. An angel?
- Hola, Rit-chan, high time you grace us with your presence - came a voice Ritsuka could swear he'd heard before.
Sure. Just how many people he knew popped up with Spanish words in a middle of a conversation?
Gods, he landed in Hell. Where else would he see Akame's face the second he gained consciousness again?
- Step back - he murmured, lifting his hand up to indicate Nisei should get his nose away from Ritsuka's eye.
- What?
- Move! - Ritsuka mustered the strength to push the dark fighter back.
Not anticipating it in the slightest, Nisei landed on his butt.
- How dramatic, Rit-chan!
Ritsuka huffed, glaring at the skinny man, who was right now sending him amused glances and wiggling his eyebrows at him.
Aoyagi quickly made sure that it was Keita who was behind him, then asked angrily.
- What are you doing here, you weasel?
Before Nisei replied, Ritsuka could feel Keita stiffen and gulp nervously, shifting slightly.
- Shouldn't I be the one asking that? - Nisei pushed himself up, balancing on his heels in front of the photographers - It's you who're uninvited guests here…
- What the hell are you… - Ritsuka started, but Keita elbowed him non-too-gently, catching his attention.
- Remember? The right hand man? It's him - Keita hurriedly provided, with a strained undertone.
Ritsuka rolled his eyes, pulling away from his friend.
- Oh for gods' sake, he's…
Nisei registered the exact moment when the realisation dawned. He elegantly arched his brow, lips twisting cheekily.
- But it's impossible - Ritsuka's eyes were wide as saucers - It's… No. No one would ever be able to control you, you'd never let anyone do that… - his breath was caught in his throat when another idea came to his mind - No one but him. Fuck - he choked out, suddenly very dizzy.
Keita gently eased his distressed friend back on his own chest, completely at loss about what to do or what was going on. But he noticed an arrogant expression that Akame's face now had and a sly manner in which he regarded Ritsuka.
- Oh Rit-chan, how slow you can be sometimes- the dark man chuckled - Don't I make a good yakuza?
Ritsuka shot him a chilling glare, which only made him smile wider.
Keita's eyes were jumping from his friend to Akame in an attempt at comprehending why would Ritsuka talk to the yakuza as if he knew him. But it was a dangerous trace of thought.
- You don't make good anything - Ritsuka hotly declared, finally causing the gangster to broke into laughter - And don't laugh, you idiot!
Nisei looked at him funnily.
- What's with the Aoyagis? Never appreciating my brilliant persona - he pouted, then suddenly assumed a serious expression - You're coming with me to him…
Ritsuka opened his mouth to curse him, when the next words came.
- You - Nisei nodded at one of the thugs - Finish the other guy off. Don't need him.
Before the man could lift his gun Ritsuka covered Keita with his own body, glaring challengingly at Nisei.
The fighter sighed, shaking his head.
- Do you have to insist on being that difficult? - he bent down to force Ritsuka away from cowering Keita.
- Let me go! - Ritsuka shrieked, fighting the fighter's iron grip - Put me down, Nisei! - he bit the fighter's arm, what earned him a whack to his head and a passionate Spanish curse.
- ¡Basta ya! - Nisei shook Ritsuka, trying to restrain him, in vain - Take care of that bicho - he shot at his subordinates.
Desperate, Ritsuka kicked Nisei as strongly as he could. That brought the desired effect. The fighter loosened his hold for a second, but that was enough for Ritsuka to wrench himself free from Akame's grasp.
- I swear, Nisei - Ritsuka was backing away from a now furious fighter - If he gets shot, I'm going to find a way to kill myself before you bring me to Iskandar…
Nisei's eyes narrowed and he halted, measuring Ritsuka from top to toe. The boy glared back defiantly, daring the fighter to give a command to kill Keita.
- You're bluffing - Nisei smirked, but didn't advance any further.
- Try me - Ritsuka hoped Nisei remembered he could actually act on such promises.
The fighter crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow.
- And just why would you think I care whether or not you kill yourself?
- Because Iskandar cares - the boy replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the alias.
- Oh, ¿de verdad? - Nisei mocked - And just how can you be so sure?
Ritsuka prayed he read the fighter right.
- Because *you* aren't sure.
Nisei blinked at him stupidly, but quickly got himself under control, putting hands into his pockets nonchalantly.
- What a bright logic, Doctor Watson. I'm impressed - he grinned wolfishly - And how did you come to that brilliant conclusion?
The bastard was still mocking him! Ritsuka balled his fists.
Oh come on, Nisei, if I'm wrong why is Keita still alive?
- If you were confidant "Iskandar" doesn't care about me anymore, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd have killed me or rather, let your thugs get rid of me. You didn't, so you're clearly afraid of a punishment that would meet you by Iskandar's hand if you hurt me - Ritsuka sounded smug - Also, you're actually bargaining with me right now, considering the thought of leaving a witness of you illegal activities alive, because you're fearing I'd kill myself. So, my dear Ni-chan, you're not sure.
Nisei smirked, then smiled at Ritsuka.
- I hate you.
Ritsuka grinned triumphantly.
- Don't worry. The feeling's mutual.
...
Characters: Ritsuka, Soubi and others
Rating: T
Summary: Twenty-one-year-old Ritsuka works as a photographer. Sometimes, he does a scoop for the police with his friend, Keita, despite his fighter's protests. One day, they get the scoop of their lives: nailing one of the most dangerous yakuza in Japan.
...
The Right Hand Man
...
- Well, well, well - came a gruff voice from behind his back - What do we have here? A kitten playing with a camera - the barrel was pressed even more strongly than a second before.
Ritsuka felt himself go icily cold, his heart stopping. Running was pointless, the guy would blow up his head before he'd manage to take a step.
- Two kittens - another voice corrected - This one tried to show his claws.
Ritsuka stiffened, afraid of the meaning behind those words. Was Keita…? Oh gods.
- We need to pull them out, then - the first one smirked.
Ritsuka heard a "thump" when Keita was unceremoniously thrown to the ground next to him. Thank gods he was alive. He looked a little roughed up, probably because of his attempts at escaping.
- And who exactly may you be? - a big man, the owner of the second voice, crouched in front of Ritsuka, lifting his chin up with meaty fingers - Satō's little pets, running around without a leash? He should know better than to let his kittens go alone. Bad things happen to strays - he grinned, showing his impressive teeth.
Ritsuka gulped, suddenly dizzy. He'd always thought that facing criminals was like fighting in a battle. Only now did he realise that he had no powers in a real world, especially without Soubi.
Besides, the guy in front of him was one sick bastard. He should finish him off, not go on and on about fucking kittens. So what he still had his ears? He was waiting for the right moment…
Only this moment may never come.
Next to him, Keita was shaking uncontrollably, his teeth clattering like crazy. They were going to die, they were going to die…
The guy took out his gun, pointing it to Keita's head.
Keita closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down a little at least, to face his death with more dignity. He failed.
As in a trance, he saw the gangster level the barrel so it was almost touching his forehead. The man sent him a sadistic smirk, wiggling his eyebrows.
Keita felt ready to retch.
Then, with the same malicious expression, the guy took the gun away.
To point it at Ritsuka.
Keita noticed with a strange detachment that there were now two guns pointing at his friend, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. Not relief at having been spared (for a moment), not dread at seeing his friend in such predicament.
Nothing.
The, he heard a shot.
...
Keita screwed his eyes shut when the shot rang.
Ritsuka…
He forced himself to open them again.
He wished he hadn't.
Ritsuka was lying there, flat on the ground a gun next to him…
Wait, a gun?
Keita quickly looked for the guy in front of him. He was still there, crouching, glaring spitefully at someone to his left.
Keita followed his trace of sight. The hot glare was focused on a skinny man standing with one hand on his narrow hip, the other, wielding a gun, lazily hanging on his side. The guy couldn't have been over thirty, what made him the youngest around there, except Keita and Ritsuka, of course. The question was, what was he doing there?
He didn't look like a gang member. The others were wearing suits and coats, while he had tight black jeans, a black turtleneck and a short leather jacket. A black one.
Keita was opening his mouth to inquire about the man, when the gangster in front of him spat.
- Just what was that? You could've shot me!
The guy in black tilted his head.
- Could but didn't, count yourself lucky - he smirked - And pick up your gun before the guy snatches it, will you?
The man grunted, reaching for his gun. Actually, Keita didn't even think about taking it.
- If I were him - the newcomer began to play with a strand of his long black hair - You'd be dead. Count yourself twice as lucky.
- Alright, enough - the third man snapped, irritated - Why did you do that?
The skinny guy let go of his hair.
- Change of plans.
- Says who?
- Me. Iskandar. Whatever - the newcomer shrugged, strolling closer. His keen black eyes were at odds with his nonchalant pose and unconcerned demeanour.
- And you didn't feel the need to share it with us? - the crouching man was barely containing his anger.
The other beamed at him.
- Nah, too boring. I don't do boring, it's… Boring, I guess - he sent him a sheepish look.
- Fuck you, Akame - the man spat, shaking his head - You'll get us killed one day. If not by sending us on a mission impossible, then by turning Iskandar on us because of something like today.
A feral grin appeared on Akame's face.
- You got it right - he chuckled - Can't wait to see that day. Oh, don't worry - he noticed a disgusted look he was receiving - If I wanted to do that, you'd have been long dead. You're useful, I don't eliminate useful - he smiled sweetly - Neither does Iskandar.
The other two men gritted their teeth, but neither dared to challenge the guy further. With a sinking feeling, Keita realised that he was most probably the feared right hand of Iskandar.
In the meantime, Akame leisurely strolled to where Ritsuka was lying unconscious, pouting when he noticed the boy wasn't responding even though he gently poked him with his foot. Keita really wished to stop him, but deep inside he was far too afraid to cross the guy in any way. So he sat there, observing the still crouching guy reaching out to pick Ritsuka up.
His hand was millimetres from Ritsuka, when Akame snapped.
- Don't. No one touches him, ¿entendido? - he showed his canines in a predatory manner.
The hand was withdrawn hurriedly.
Akame kneeled down and pulled Ritsuka up, helping him to lean on Keita. Keita on his part was too terrified to even breath, what didn't go unnoticed by Akame.
- How sweet - he chirped in a high-pitched voice - Your fear, that is. Like honey - Akame's almost black orbs focused on Keita's light ones. They were like dark bottomless pits, gleaming oddly with something unhealthy. Something sick.
Keita literally felt himself paling. Gods, he needed help there.
Fortunately, Ritsuka chose that moment to stir and wake up.
Groggily, Ritsuka opened his eyes, trying to remember what exactly had happened and whether he was just waking up to his afterlife.
He groaned, focusing his vision on an oval object that seemed to be uncomfortably close to his face. An angel?
- Hola, Rit-chan, high time you grace us with your presence - came a voice Ritsuka could swear he'd heard before.
Sure. Just how many people he knew popped up with Spanish words in a middle of a conversation?
Gods, he landed in Hell. Where else would he see Akame's face the second he gained consciousness again?
- Step back - he murmured, lifting his hand up to indicate Nisei should get his nose away from Ritsuka's eye.
- What?
- Move! - Ritsuka mustered the strength to push the dark fighter back.
Not anticipating it in the slightest, Nisei landed on his butt.
- How dramatic, Rit-chan!
Ritsuka huffed, glaring at the skinny man, who was right now sending him amused glances and wiggling his eyebrows at him.
Aoyagi quickly made sure that it was Keita who was behind him, then asked angrily.
- What are you doing here, you weasel?
Before Nisei replied, Ritsuka could feel Keita stiffen and gulp nervously, shifting slightly.
- Shouldn't I be the one asking that? - Nisei pushed himself up, balancing on his heels in front of the photographers - It's you who're uninvited guests here…
- What the hell are you… - Ritsuka started, but Keita elbowed him non-too-gently, catching his attention.
- Remember? The right hand man? It's him - Keita hurriedly provided, with a strained undertone.
Ritsuka rolled his eyes, pulling away from his friend.
- Oh for gods' sake, he's…
Nisei registered the exact moment when the realisation dawned. He elegantly arched his brow, lips twisting cheekily.
- But it's impossible - Ritsuka's eyes were wide as saucers - It's… No. No one would ever be able to control you, you'd never let anyone do that… - his breath was caught in his throat when another idea came to his mind - No one but him. Fuck - he choked out, suddenly very dizzy.
Keita gently eased his distressed friend back on his own chest, completely at loss about what to do or what was going on. But he noticed an arrogant expression that Akame's face now had and a sly manner in which he regarded Ritsuka.
- Oh Rit-chan, how slow you can be sometimes- the dark man chuckled - Don't I make a good yakuza?
Ritsuka shot him a chilling glare, which only made him smile wider.
Keita's eyes were jumping from his friend to Akame in an attempt at comprehending why would Ritsuka talk to the yakuza as if he knew him. But it was a dangerous trace of thought.
- You don't make good anything - Ritsuka hotly declared, finally causing the gangster to broke into laughter - And don't laugh, you idiot!
Nisei looked at him funnily.
- What's with the Aoyagis? Never appreciating my brilliant persona - he pouted, then suddenly assumed a serious expression - You're coming with me to him…
Ritsuka opened his mouth to curse him, when the next words came.
- You - Nisei nodded at one of the thugs - Finish the other guy off. Don't need him.
Before the man could lift his gun Ritsuka covered Keita with his own body, glaring challengingly at Nisei.
The fighter sighed, shaking his head.
- Do you have to insist on being that difficult? - he bent down to force Ritsuka away from cowering Keita.
- Let me go! - Ritsuka shrieked, fighting the fighter's iron grip - Put me down, Nisei! - he bit the fighter's arm, what earned him a whack to his head and a passionate Spanish curse.
- ¡Basta ya! - Nisei shook Ritsuka, trying to restrain him, in vain - Take care of that bicho - he shot at his subordinates.
Desperate, Ritsuka kicked Nisei as strongly as he could. That brought the desired effect. The fighter loosened his hold for a second, but that was enough for Ritsuka to wrench himself free from Akame's grasp.
- I swear, Nisei - Ritsuka was backing away from a now furious fighter - If he gets shot, I'm going to find a way to kill myself before you bring me to Iskandar…
Nisei's eyes narrowed and he halted, measuring Ritsuka from top to toe. The boy glared back defiantly, daring the fighter to give a command to kill Keita.
- You're bluffing - Nisei smirked, but didn't advance any further.
- Try me - Ritsuka hoped Nisei remembered he could actually act on such promises.
The fighter crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow.
- And just why would you think I care whether or not you kill yourself?
- Because Iskandar cares - the boy replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the alias.
- Oh, ¿de verdad? - Nisei mocked - And just how can you be so sure?
Ritsuka prayed he read the fighter right.
- Because *you* aren't sure.
Nisei blinked at him stupidly, but quickly got himself under control, putting hands into his pockets nonchalantly.
- What a bright logic, Doctor Watson. I'm impressed - he grinned wolfishly - And how did you come to that brilliant conclusion?
The bastard was still mocking him! Ritsuka balled his fists.
Oh come on, Nisei, if I'm wrong why is Keita still alive?
- If you were confidant "Iskandar" doesn't care about me anymore, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd have killed me or rather, let your thugs get rid of me. You didn't, so you're clearly afraid of a punishment that would meet you by Iskandar's hand if you hurt me - Ritsuka sounded smug - Also, you're actually bargaining with me right now, considering the thought of leaving a witness of you illegal activities alive, because you're fearing I'd kill myself. So, my dear Ni-chan, you're not sure.
Nisei smirked, then smiled at Ritsuka.
- I hate you.
Ritsuka grinned triumphantly.
- Don't worry. The feeling's mutual.
...