This Is What Happens What I'm Seething With Anger {LIFE FIC}
When everything started, they told me that this was nothing more than a game and that no one would get hurt. I believed them, like the foolish teenager that I am. Scratch that, like the foolish sixteen year old that I was. They started with Deushi. They told me that I wouldn't miss him because we where never really that close. When I was in his arms at night. When his lips traced over my skin as I cried he told me that. I believed him.
I didn't see Deushi die. I saw it on the news. “Kiritani Deushi, age twenty-one, was killed in a hit and run accident by a truck driver in Akihabara today. An investigation is under way-” I had wondered why he had demanded that I watch tv with him. His arm was wrapped around my waist and his hand inside of my jeans, playing with my soft cock. It made sense as my body stiffened and I cried. I wanted to pull away from him..but I couldn't. Not because I wasn't physically able to, because I knew someone else would get hurt if I did.
Haiku was second. I watched him die. He was running towards me, happily screaming out “umma” as he was about to jump into my arms to tackle me in a love filled hug. I was smiling too. I was happy to see him. Haiku had just returned from a trip to Germany and I was the one to pick him up. It was two years after Deushi was murdered...Sometimes I still have nightmares about Haiku's death.
Blood splattered across my face, covering my cheeks and forehead, there was blood and brain...Haiku's brain and blood in my hair and on my shirt. A sniper sent a bullet through his skull just as he was about to jump into my arms. Haiku died with a smile on his face. I was the last person to see him alive, while I was the last person that he saw while he was alive.
I remember standing there, a smile on my face as I stood frozen. I didn't comprehend that they had killed one of my only friends right in front of me. I smiled all the way back to his apartment as I barely took breaths. He had stripped me of my bloody and brain covered clothing and placed me in the warm water that flowed from his expensive shower head. He washed me and the whole time I was smiling. My mind replayed the entire two minutes of Haiku's last breath in my mind while he thoroughly cleaned by body.
He could have raped me as I was in such a shocked and denial fueled state. He didn't though, he didn't need to rape me. Once he had finished washing me, I looked down at the drain in the shower and screamed. The water was red and filled with pink chunks. I pushed him away and fell to my knees to be surrounded by Haiku's blood and the bits of his brain. My body shuddered and I gasped in breaths.
Somehow I had crawled from the shower to the toilet as I violently shuddered. I vomited my lunch into the toilet. I dry heaved also, making myself more sick as I chocked on my tears and sobs. After I was done dry heaving, he picked me up and flushed the toilet, closing the lid and then he sat me down on top of the lid. He wiped my mouth with a wet cloth and then brushed my teeth for me. He never once said a word to me.
I was shaking now, as I was cold and confused. He picked me up again and placed me in the shower once more. I noticed that he was naked also as he leaned me face first against the wall. He pulled my hips back with strong hands until he was satisfied with my position and then thrust into me. I screamed out and cried, my nails scratching against the wall in pain. I never once told him to stop nor did I tell him to go faster. He fucked me against the shower as roughly as he had taken me the first tonight we had been together.
No, that's a lie. He made me bleed the day Haiku was murdered. He made me bleed as he bit into my neck and he ripped the sensitive tissue that surrounded his cock. He didn't care though, he wanted me to hurt. To come by to reality and accept what had happened to my friend. If I was bitter, I would have said he raped me that day, but I never once said no or tried to stop him. After he came inside of me and pulled out, he cleaned my body so gently I would have thought that he was sorry for hurting me. Or that he loved me.
That was a dream though. He would never love me. Not now or ever. I was more than ok with that though. He took me to lay in his bed as he kissed away my tears. There was no comfort though, I knew he was enjoying my crying even if he had the audacity to pretend that he cared enough about me to kiss them away. I didn't hate him for it. I don't hate him for it now either. If he hadn't taken me like that, I wouldn't have come to terms with reality.
-=-
I never understood this so called 'game' that I was apparently playing. The players were myself, my friends, him, and whoever was killing off my friends. The whole of Tokyo could have been involved, but I never would have known. No one ever told me anything. I had one friend left in the four year span I was with him. Deushi had been dead for four years and Haiku was now dead for two years. That left Akira, the one that they would have a hell of a time trying to kill.
I thought I was playing the game right though, Akira lived over four years and counting. I didn't know the rules of the game or how to play them either. I just new that I was with him, fucking him and living with him, and that Akira was alive. I couldn't lie to myself either. If Akira died...I...I would be crushed. As much as I liked to believe that I hated the bastard, a large part of me would die with him. The other two, Deushi and Haiku, they were important too..but they weren't Akira.
I'd like to say that it's because Akira is a beast in bed and I would miss getting fucked by him. Of course, I would never tell him that, that bastard would lord the knowledge over my head. Yet, I still went back to him. He used to fuck me back when I was a naive sixteen year old homeless kid too. He fucks me now that I'm twenty and most likely the cause of our two friend's death. I have no idea if he knows that I may or may not have been the reason why Deushi was hit by that truck or Haiku was shot to death. He knows that either one of us is next and he hasn't changed the way he's been living either.
I kind of admire that about Akira. Just like how I kind of admired him and his guitar skills when he let me live with him back was I was a homeless sixteen year old. I had lied to him about my age after I hit on him. I didn't care if he payed me or not to let him fuck me, once I laid eyes on him I wanted him to fuck me. I just got lucky when he said that if I wanted to stay I could and that I had to do chores and cook, “as long as you don't burn down my apartment. Don't touch Nino either.” Nino was his light blue Gibson guitar. Sometimes I talked him into playing for me when he got home from work.
I left a note on his table one day to say my good-bye to him.
Hey, dick face,
thanks for letting me stay here. As much as I loved being your personal maid, I found myself a place to stay and work. You're a really great fuck, I'll have to stop by so we can catch up one day. Maybe fuck again. ^^ Seriously though, thank you for letting me stay here. I'll pay you back once I get on my feet. I'm gonna do big things with my life, look for me when I get famous!
Love to ride your cock,
KouiiShi.
I had met him while grocery shopping with the food allowance Akira had given me. One moment I was looking at Pocky and wondering if I could fit into the measly amount of money I had been allowed and the next a large hand was over my mouth and a arm was wrapped around my waist. “If you're quiet, I'll remove my hand. Will you be a good boy and stay quiet?” The voice was deep and raspy. A shiver went down my spine because of the underlying authority the voice held.
I nodded, my eyes wide and breathing sped up. “Good boy, now keep facing that way.” I nodded again and the hand over my mouth was removed. I let out a near silent whimper. The hand was warm, very warm, and calloused. Not calloused like Akira's were from playing Nino so much, but calloused from rough work. The hand trailed down my chest and to the front of my jeans. Without permission, the hand entered my skinny jeans and grasped my half hard cock easily. I never wore boxers.
I gasped and he 'tsked' in my ear. “Quiet, if you stay quiet, I'll reward you.” The hand on my hip moved lower to unzip my jeans and expose my now fully erect cock to the cool air of the store. I bit into my bottom lip so hard that I was bleeding as my cock was jerked and rubbed in a convince store by some strange man. I squeezed my eyes shut as I came over numerous boxers of Pocky and Yan-Yan. “You've been a good boy,” the man said as he zipped me back up and turned me around. My eyes were closed as his wet hand lifted my chin up.
“Look at me.” I opened my eyes and gasped. The man that had just jerked me into an amazing orgasm was the very reason that I was a homeless, gay slut. I jerked away from him and looked around the store. No one was inside except for the two of us. I was trapped between him and the shelf behind me and I was terrified. This man could easily have me killed. He had forced my good-for-nothing father to commit suicide after his debts for the drugs he used became too high. My father killed my mother, sister, her baby and himself while I watched in horror. I had been twelve and my mother had locked me in her closet when she had realized what my father was going to do.
I had run away from all of the homes I was sent to and after the twelfth time I had run away, the Childcare Services Agency finally gave up on me. I was homeless at age fourteen and made my living from my body and my vocal talent. I never let men fuck me. They could finger me and I would blow them. They could play with my body, but I would never let them fuck me. My virginity was all I had left that I could truly call my own.
Having this man before me...I..I was trembling. He was smiling at me, as his hand reached out to stroke my cheek. I knew the man, I knew his face and now I knew his touch, but I had never know his voice. “I've been watching you all this time. You can thank me later, I'm the only reason you have yet to be taken advantage of.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, thin lips curling into a sinister smile before it was replaced with a soft one. “Although, I could take you right here and now. There would be no witnesses and my word holds more value than your life. If I say I didn't do it, then I didn't do it.”
He backed me up until my back pressed against the soiled snacks. “You don't want that do you?” I shook my head no, I couldn't find my voice! One of his hands was on my butt. His other hand pinned my left shoulder into the shelf behind me. I winced as his hand moved and he was inside of my jeans again. My eyes widened as a single finger probed my entrance. “You've only let one man have you. You must really like him to give up your virginity.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine before forcing my lips open with his tongue.
He pulled away with a grin and a sparkle in light brown eyes. “You've made friends with the German-Japanese artist that works near Shibuya and the Taiwanese-Japanese cos player from Akihabara. Now that wanna be guitarist Akira too. Why don't we play a game? You please me and I'll let them live. Be my pet and do as I say, and you can see them as much as you'd like.” He smiled. I was sure that his smile attracted both males and females by the flock...to me. To me it terrified me...petrified me even.
“What do you say?”
-=-
...Maybe I did know about the game. I had forgotten about my first encounter with him. No, wait, that's a lie. I hadn't forgotten, I had repressed the memory just like many others. If I lived long enough, I would suppress the memories of Deushi's smiles and Haiku's laughter and puns too. I would suppress all of my memories of Akira also. Sooner or later..once he killed him. He had a problem with Akira. Akira was no threat though. Then again, the threat could have been my memories with Akira. It had been a short year that I had been with Akira, but it was the happiest year of my life.
The three years I was with him..Deushi was killed the same day Akira and I went to Disney world and I came back with a giant Dumbo plushy and a hicky on my stomach. He had whipped me until I bled, fucked me raw until I couldn't scream. Haiku had been murdered the day after I spent the night at Akira's and listened to him play songs he had written. We had sex that night. It was slow and passionate...I had...I had told Akira that I loved him. I knew that Akira didn't love me. Akira didn't do relationships. Akira didn't believe in love.
We were supposed to have a small party the day Haiku came back. Akira and I had planned to have it at a park, we had invited a few friends and while we were getting ready I had stolen numerous playful kisses from Akira. Haiku had been shot in the head and I hadn't been able to take his death. The party was canceled and Akira cleaned up what would have been the party by himself while I was fucked until I bled.
I stayed away from Akira after that. Or..I tried to. Every time I was broken, I ended up waiting for him outside of his apartment. He let me spend the night in his bed every time too. Those nights and days we didn't have sex. I just needed to be near someone that I knew cared for me. Akira had give me a key to his apartment on the anniversary of Deushi's death. I cried into his chest that day. I hiccuped and tried to form words through sobs and gasps. We didn't make it back to that apartment that day. We had slow sex at a hotel that day and night.
He had hit me we I had come back. He raped me that night and threatened that if I was ever seen with Akira again, he would kill Akira slowly and make me watch while his friends had their way with me. I really did stay away from Akira then. I didn't leave his condo. I ordered food or ordered his butler to go to the store for me when I decided to cook or if I needed something in general. My life consisted of his condo and his bed room. His black sheets and white comforter that was stained with my blood.
I stayed away from Akira until I was twenty-three. He had come home one day and I was in his bed. My legs spread and my fingers pumping in and out of my quiver hole. I was wearing one of Akira's shirts and I pinched my nipples and fucked myself on my fingers. He growled and stripped himself of his clothing, thinking that I had gotten hot to the thought of him. I cried out and moaned out a name as I came. He saw red and launched himself at me, his hands around my throat as he screamed in my face.
“Why the fuck would you moan his name, you slut? What does he have that I don't?”
I had smiled and reached under a silk covered pillow. His eyes widened as his bare chest was nudged by the end of a 45. “He has my heart, something that you'll never have.” I shot him, right in the heart. I didn't bother with neighbors hearing the blast, his gun had a silencer on it. I moved to the side as his body fell face down onto the bed. “See you in Hell.” I hissed and urinated on his body.
The cellphone in his discarded jacket pocket rang and I fished for it. “Hello, Boss?”
I smiled. “I told you to call me, Itsuki-sama.”
“Sorry, Itsuki-sama, everything went as planned?”
“He's dead, get rid of the body and clean the place. Resurrect the dead too.”
“Right away, Itsuki-sama.”
I didn't bother changing into pants and I hung up and walked out the door. Akira's shirt went to my thighs, I walked barefoot to his apartment as it snowed. It was winter and in a few days we could go and see the Sakura trees in full bloom. I was freezing and wet and feeling a little insane as I knocked on his door. He raised an eyebrow but move aside to let me in.
“Tell me a good reason why I shouldn't punch you for walking naked in the snow?” He asked me as he handed me a towel and clean clothes.
“I'm wearing your shirt?” The punch to my arm hurt but the pain was nothing compared to what I had felt for the past three years without him.
“Before I walked here, I masturbated to the thought of you and I realized how much I love you.”
“By masturbating to the thought of me? How sweet, I'm flattered.”
I let out my first real laugh in years as he handed me a cup of tea. Oranges, spices, and cinnamon exploded in my mouth as I drank from the cup. I blinked as I looked at the cup and then at him. “You kept my tea.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don't get all sentimental on me. I wasn't gonna drink that crap, it's too spicy, but you bought that with my money so I sure as hell wasn't gonna throw it away.”
I smiled and took another sip. “In three days, lets go on a trip to see the most beautiful Sakura trees. Don't worry about money, I've got it.”
He shrugged. “As long as I don't have to pay.”
I leaned over and kissed him. “Don't worry about money or anything again. Life will be fine for us now. Even if you don't love me I'm going to stay by your side.”
Three days later, they were on Osaka, watching the Sakura trees.
“This is pretty and all, but I can only stare at a tree for so long.”
I laughed. “Give it a few more minutes.”
Silence passed until two loud voices joined together. “UMMA! APPA!”
I have a family to protect now and no one will get in the way of that.
I didn't see Deushi die. I saw it on the news. “Kiritani Deushi, age twenty-one, was killed in a hit and run accident by a truck driver in Akihabara today. An investigation is under way-” I had wondered why he had demanded that I watch tv with him. His arm was wrapped around my waist and his hand inside of my jeans, playing with my soft cock. It made sense as my body stiffened and I cried. I wanted to pull away from him..but I couldn't. Not because I wasn't physically able to, because I knew someone else would get hurt if I did.
Haiku was second. I watched him die. He was running towards me, happily screaming out “umma” as he was about to jump into my arms to tackle me in a love filled hug. I was smiling too. I was happy to see him. Haiku had just returned from a trip to Germany and I was the one to pick him up. It was two years after Deushi was murdered...Sometimes I still have nightmares about Haiku's death.
Blood splattered across my face, covering my cheeks and forehead, there was blood and brain...Haiku's brain and blood in my hair and on my shirt. A sniper sent a bullet through his skull just as he was about to jump into my arms. Haiku died with a smile on his face. I was the last person to see him alive, while I was the last person that he saw while he was alive.
I remember standing there, a smile on my face as I stood frozen. I didn't comprehend that they had killed one of my only friends right in front of me. I smiled all the way back to his apartment as I barely took breaths. He had stripped me of my bloody and brain covered clothing and placed me in the warm water that flowed from his expensive shower head. He washed me and the whole time I was smiling. My mind replayed the entire two minutes of Haiku's last breath in my mind while he thoroughly cleaned by body.
He could have raped me as I was in such a shocked and denial fueled state. He didn't though, he didn't need to rape me. Once he had finished washing me, I looked down at the drain in the shower and screamed. The water was red and filled with pink chunks. I pushed him away and fell to my knees to be surrounded by Haiku's blood and the bits of his brain. My body shuddered and I gasped in breaths.
Somehow I had crawled from the shower to the toilet as I violently shuddered. I vomited my lunch into the toilet. I dry heaved also, making myself more sick as I chocked on my tears and sobs. After I was done dry heaving, he picked me up and flushed the toilet, closing the lid and then he sat me down on top of the lid. He wiped my mouth with a wet cloth and then brushed my teeth for me. He never once said a word to me.
I was shaking now, as I was cold and confused. He picked me up again and placed me in the shower once more. I noticed that he was naked also as he leaned me face first against the wall. He pulled my hips back with strong hands until he was satisfied with my position and then thrust into me. I screamed out and cried, my nails scratching against the wall in pain. I never once told him to stop nor did I tell him to go faster. He fucked me against the shower as roughly as he had taken me the first tonight we had been together.
No, that's a lie. He made me bleed the day Haiku was murdered. He made me bleed as he bit into my neck and he ripped the sensitive tissue that surrounded his cock. He didn't care though, he wanted me to hurt. To come by to reality and accept what had happened to my friend. If I was bitter, I would have said he raped me that day, but I never once said no or tried to stop him. After he came inside of me and pulled out, he cleaned my body so gently I would have thought that he was sorry for hurting me. Or that he loved me.
That was a dream though. He would never love me. Not now or ever. I was more than ok with that though. He took me to lay in his bed as he kissed away my tears. There was no comfort though, I knew he was enjoying my crying even if he had the audacity to pretend that he cared enough about me to kiss them away. I didn't hate him for it. I don't hate him for it now either. If he hadn't taken me like that, I wouldn't have come to terms with reality.
-=-
I never understood this so called 'game' that I was apparently playing. The players were myself, my friends, him, and whoever was killing off my friends. The whole of Tokyo could have been involved, but I never would have known. No one ever told me anything. I had one friend left in the four year span I was with him. Deushi had been dead for four years and Haiku was now dead for two years. That left Akira, the one that they would have a hell of a time trying to kill.
I thought I was playing the game right though, Akira lived over four years and counting. I didn't know the rules of the game or how to play them either. I just new that I was with him, fucking him and living with him, and that Akira was alive. I couldn't lie to myself either. If Akira died...I...I would be crushed. As much as I liked to believe that I hated the bastard, a large part of me would die with him. The other two, Deushi and Haiku, they were important too..but they weren't Akira.
I'd like to say that it's because Akira is a beast in bed and I would miss getting fucked by him. Of course, I would never tell him that, that bastard would lord the knowledge over my head. Yet, I still went back to him. He used to fuck me back when I was a naive sixteen year old homeless kid too. He fucks me now that I'm twenty and most likely the cause of our two friend's death. I have no idea if he knows that I may or may not have been the reason why Deushi was hit by that truck or Haiku was shot to death. He knows that either one of us is next and he hasn't changed the way he's been living either.
I kind of admire that about Akira. Just like how I kind of admired him and his guitar skills when he let me live with him back was I was a homeless sixteen year old. I had lied to him about my age after I hit on him. I didn't care if he payed me or not to let him fuck me, once I laid eyes on him I wanted him to fuck me. I just got lucky when he said that if I wanted to stay I could and that I had to do chores and cook, “as long as you don't burn down my apartment. Don't touch Nino either.” Nino was his light blue Gibson guitar. Sometimes I talked him into playing for me when he got home from work.
I left a note on his table one day to say my good-bye to him.
Hey, dick face,
thanks for letting me stay here. As much as I loved being your personal maid, I found myself a place to stay and work. You're a really great fuck, I'll have to stop by so we can catch up one day. Maybe fuck again. ^^ Seriously though, thank you for letting me stay here. I'll pay you back once I get on my feet. I'm gonna do big things with my life, look for me when I get famous!
Love to ride your cock,
KouiiShi.
I had met him while grocery shopping with the food allowance Akira had given me. One moment I was looking at Pocky and wondering if I could fit into the measly amount of money I had been allowed and the next a large hand was over my mouth and a arm was wrapped around my waist. “If you're quiet, I'll remove my hand. Will you be a good boy and stay quiet?” The voice was deep and raspy. A shiver went down my spine because of the underlying authority the voice held.
I nodded, my eyes wide and breathing sped up. “Good boy, now keep facing that way.” I nodded again and the hand over my mouth was removed. I let out a near silent whimper. The hand was warm, very warm, and calloused. Not calloused like Akira's were from playing Nino so much, but calloused from rough work. The hand trailed down my chest and to the front of my jeans. Without permission, the hand entered my skinny jeans and grasped my half hard cock easily. I never wore boxers.
I gasped and he 'tsked' in my ear. “Quiet, if you stay quiet, I'll reward you.” The hand on my hip moved lower to unzip my jeans and expose my now fully erect cock to the cool air of the store. I bit into my bottom lip so hard that I was bleeding as my cock was jerked and rubbed in a convince store by some strange man. I squeezed my eyes shut as I came over numerous boxers of Pocky and Yan-Yan. “You've been a good boy,” the man said as he zipped me back up and turned me around. My eyes were closed as his wet hand lifted my chin up.
“Look at me.” I opened my eyes and gasped. The man that had just jerked me into an amazing orgasm was the very reason that I was a homeless, gay slut. I jerked away from him and looked around the store. No one was inside except for the two of us. I was trapped between him and the shelf behind me and I was terrified. This man could easily have me killed. He had forced my good-for-nothing father to commit suicide after his debts for the drugs he used became too high. My father killed my mother, sister, her baby and himself while I watched in horror. I had been twelve and my mother had locked me in her closet when she had realized what my father was going to do.
I had run away from all of the homes I was sent to and after the twelfth time I had run away, the Childcare Services Agency finally gave up on me. I was homeless at age fourteen and made my living from my body and my vocal talent. I never let men fuck me. They could finger me and I would blow them. They could play with my body, but I would never let them fuck me. My virginity was all I had left that I could truly call my own.
Having this man before me...I..I was trembling. He was smiling at me, as his hand reached out to stroke my cheek. I knew the man, I knew his face and now I knew his touch, but I had never know his voice. “I've been watching you all this time. You can thank me later, I'm the only reason you have yet to be taken advantage of.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, thin lips curling into a sinister smile before it was replaced with a soft one. “Although, I could take you right here and now. There would be no witnesses and my word holds more value than your life. If I say I didn't do it, then I didn't do it.”
He backed me up until my back pressed against the soiled snacks. “You don't want that do you?” I shook my head no, I couldn't find my voice! One of his hands was on my butt. His other hand pinned my left shoulder into the shelf behind me. I winced as his hand moved and he was inside of my jeans again. My eyes widened as a single finger probed my entrance. “You've only let one man have you. You must really like him to give up your virginity.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine before forcing my lips open with his tongue.
He pulled away with a grin and a sparkle in light brown eyes. “You've made friends with the German-Japanese artist that works near Shibuya and the Taiwanese-Japanese cos player from Akihabara. Now that wanna be guitarist Akira too. Why don't we play a game? You please me and I'll let them live. Be my pet and do as I say, and you can see them as much as you'd like.” He smiled. I was sure that his smile attracted both males and females by the flock...to me. To me it terrified me...petrified me even.
“What do you say?”
-=-
...Maybe I did know about the game. I had forgotten about my first encounter with him. No, wait, that's a lie. I hadn't forgotten, I had repressed the memory just like many others. If I lived long enough, I would suppress the memories of Deushi's smiles and Haiku's laughter and puns too. I would suppress all of my memories of Akira also. Sooner or later..once he killed him. He had a problem with Akira. Akira was no threat though. Then again, the threat could have been my memories with Akira. It had been a short year that I had been with Akira, but it was the happiest year of my life.
The three years I was with him..Deushi was killed the same day Akira and I went to Disney world and I came back with a giant Dumbo plushy and a hicky on my stomach. He had whipped me until I bled, fucked me raw until I couldn't scream. Haiku had been murdered the day after I spent the night at Akira's and listened to him play songs he had written. We had sex that night. It was slow and passionate...I had...I had told Akira that I loved him. I knew that Akira didn't love me. Akira didn't do relationships. Akira didn't believe in love.
We were supposed to have a small party the day Haiku came back. Akira and I had planned to have it at a park, we had invited a few friends and while we were getting ready I had stolen numerous playful kisses from Akira. Haiku had been shot in the head and I hadn't been able to take his death. The party was canceled and Akira cleaned up what would have been the party by himself while I was fucked until I bled.
I stayed away from Akira after that. Or..I tried to. Every time I was broken, I ended up waiting for him outside of his apartment. He let me spend the night in his bed every time too. Those nights and days we didn't have sex. I just needed to be near someone that I knew cared for me. Akira had give me a key to his apartment on the anniversary of Deushi's death. I cried into his chest that day. I hiccuped and tried to form words through sobs and gasps. We didn't make it back to that apartment that day. We had slow sex at a hotel that day and night.
He had hit me we I had come back. He raped me that night and threatened that if I was ever seen with Akira again, he would kill Akira slowly and make me watch while his friends had their way with me. I really did stay away from Akira then. I didn't leave his condo. I ordered food or ordered his butler to go to the store for me when I decided to cook or if I needed something in general. My life consisted of his condo and his bed room. His black sheets and white comforter that was stained with my blood.
I stayed away from Akira until I was twenty-three. He had come home one day and I was in his bed. My legs spread and my fingers pumping in and out of my quiver hole. I was wearing one of Akira's shirts and I pinched my nipples and fucked myself on my fingers. He growled and stripped himself of his clothing, thinking that I had gotten hot to the thought of him. I cried out and moaned out a name as I came. He saw red and launched himself at me, his hands around my throat as he screamed in my face.
“Why the fuck would you moan his name, you slut? What does he have that I don't?”
I had smiled and reached under a silk covered pillow. His eyes widened as his bare chest was nudged by the end of a 45. “He has my heart, something that you'll never have.” I shot him, right in the heart. I didn't bother with neighbors hearing the blast, his gun had a silencer on it. I moved to the side as his body fell face down onto the bed. “See you in Hell.” I hissed and urinated on his body.
The cellphone in his discarded jacket pocket rang and I fished for it. “Hello, Boss?”
I smiled. “I told you to call me, Itsuki-sama.”
“Sorry, Itsuki-sama, everything went as planned?”
“He's dead, get rid of the body and clean the place. Resurrect the dead too.”
“Right away, Itsuki-sama.”
I didn't bother changing into pants and I hung up and walked out the door. Akira's shirt went to my thighs, I walked barefoot to his apartment as it snowed. It was winter and in a few days we could go and see the Sakura trees in full bloom. I was freezing and wet and feeling a little insane as I knocked on his door. He raised an eyebrow but move aside to let me in.
“Tell me a good reason why I shouldn't punch you for walking naked in the snow?” He asked me as he handed me a towel and clean clothes.
“I'm wearing your shirt?” The punch to my arm hurt but the pain was nothing compared to what I had felt for the past three years without him.
“Before I walked here, I masturbated to the thought of you and I realized how much I love you.”
“By masturbating to the thought of me? How sweet, I'm flattered.”
I let out my first real laugh in years as he handed me a cup of tea. Oranges, spices, and cinnamon exploded in my mouth as I drank from the cup. I blinked as I looked at the cup and then at him. “You kept my tea.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don't get all sentimental on me. I wasn't gonna drink that crap, it's too spicy, but you bought that with my money so I sure as hell wasn't gonna throw it away.”
I smiled and took another sip. “In three days, lets go on a trip to see the most beautiful Sakura trees. Don't worry about money, I've got it.”
He shrugged. “As long as I don't have to pay.”
I leaned over and kissed him. “Don't worry about money or anything again. Life will be fine for us now. Even if you don't love me I'm going to stay by your side.”
Three days later, they were on Osaka, watching the Sakura trees.
“This is pretty and all, but I can only stare at a tree for so long.”
I laughed. “Give it a few more minutes.”
Silence passed until two loud voices joined together. “UMMA! APPA!”
I have a family to protect now and no one will get in the way of that.