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The Devil // Temperance

Summary:

Within the line seperating restraint and freedom, therein lies salvation (corruption)

Notes:

this is MAJORLY fucked up
turn back if any of those tags makes you uncomfortable

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

A soft click broke the momentary silence. The air inside the room is somewhat stale from being enclosed for quite some time. There's a faint but noticeable smell of old blood in the air mixed with other bodily fluids spattered across the walls and floor. He returns to his chair next to a small table with a nondescript digital camera in hand, busying himself with the footage recorded in it. A low, almost pleased humming escaped him.

"Eh, you held on quite well. Though you still broke at the end as expected." His eyes flicks over the camera towards a point opposite to him. Apparently, he was not alone.

Another man sat opposite to him. Or rather, were strapped to the chair set opposite to him; disheveled and barely awake as it is. A half-lidded stare leveled him.

"Suppose you lasted the longest out of anyone else who ended up down here at three days. You are as impressive as they said." He set aside the camera to fully face the other man, lips curling in a self-satisfactory smile. "Unfortunately, you know what it means now, right?"

The man's chest moves slowly in obvious exhaustion, faint bruises beginning to bloom on his tanned skin from the ropes binding him. "..-Why don't you just kill me?"

"Hm? Why would I? It's not always I come across something interesting around here." Picking back the camera, he extracted the memory card before depositing it into a small white envelope. "And it's been three days with no news. You're as good as abandoned by them at this point." An audible hitch in the other's breath reached him. Poor soul.

Alas, that's his fate for being a pawn of justice. The police never hesitate to sacrifice their own people for their own benefit, and that includes their ace detective. That being the man sitting across him.

Dark hair mussed up with his head lolled to the side. Chest straining against the red ropes taut across his skin, exposed under the open white shirt. Faint, reddish smear stained the long sleeves; blood drawn from the friction against the ropes from when he struggled during the previous sessions. Hands bound behind the chair with his legs suspended over the armrest with the same red ropes, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

Bruised, bloodied and ironically beautiful. A martyr. An angel sent to smite him only to sunk in hell, tainted by hatred and despair (and something else.)

He could get addicted to this.

Pocketing the envelope, he stands up and make way towards the other. Fingers curling under the other's chin tilting his head up to face him.

"What do you intend to do with that?"

"Ah, this? It's a gift, of course. To your friends back at the headquarters." The man's eyes widen by a fraction in dread. "Got to tell them how you're doing and all, you know."

"..-Stop-"

"Why?" Leaving its spot, he runs his fingers down the man's naked body. "Afraid they'll hear you screaming? Or--" Lower, tracing the man's reddened entrance before roughly thrusting his digits into his abused hole, eliciting a strangled moan and a violent jolt through his body. "--Are you afraid of them seeing you like this?"

"..-You're a sadist."

"I am, and I like how well you responds to pain." He continues to play with the man, leaving him gasping and writhing against his assault. At this point he's already too overstimulated to form any kind of coherent thought.

"I guess you've dried up after spilling out that much." Bracing his left hand on the chair, he bends down to brush his lips against the shell of the other's ear.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of you, Ryuga."

 

*

 

He woke up an indeterminate time after, jolted awake from an odd dream he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. Where is this? A room, though noticeably cleaner than the one held him earlier. Looking down upon himself, seems like his wounds have been treated to some degree and he noted that his shirt has been changed to a different one, albeit still being left bare from the waist down. What happened?

Looking around, it seems like an office room of sorts, with a workstation to one corner and a lounge area at the center where he was left alone on one of the couches. He tried to move himself to no avail thanks to mounting exhaustion and his hands tied up behind him. His breathing laboured from his attempts.

What is he supposed to do now?

He has no means to contact his team outside. He doesn’t even know where this is.

His team.

"And it's been three days with no news. You're as good as abandoned by them at this point."

He took a shuddered breath; chest tight from an invisible pressure.

 

"You're up?"

 

He snapped towards the direction of the voice, seeing the man standing in front of the door.

Jinga. Lord of the Underworld. The Devil.

His mission objective.

"Sneak into his group and get in as close as possible. Take action once we signal you."

He did. And what?

"Ah, look what we have here?"

"How are you feeling?"

He is shaken out of his thoughts. "What are you going to do with me?" The man heaves a sigh, seemingly annoyed.

"Answer my question first, will you?" The other made way closer, promptly taking place on the other end of the couch. A flat gaze leveled him. "What I do with you is up to me."

"What?" The gaze changed as the other man leaned over to his side, caging him against the couch. He reflexively presses harder into the backrest.

"They throw you away so I picked you up. Then aren't you one of my belongings now?"

"Inhuman." A smirk graced the other's lips.

"Ah, exactly. It's freeing. Why don't you try it too?"

"I will never." A hand crept up, taking hold around his jaw. An involuntary flinch came from him.

"Wonder how long can you keep saying that, little angel? Your god has forsaken you, left you at the devil's mercy. Won't it do you good to switch over to my side instead?"

For a split second, his faith wavered. His thoughts in a frenzy - too many, too loud.

"I'd rather die than do that." The smile fell and a vicious chill ran down his spine.

"I see." He was then roughly pushed down onto the couch, knocking the wind out of him. Before he could say anything more, a gun is shoved into his mouth, effectively silencing him. "Perhaps there's other thing more suitable for this than speaking."

Chest heaving from mild panic. What is he trying to do?

"Calmed down a bit?" What? "You're a lot more manageable when you have something inside you."

A strangled sound escaped him when the gun slides deeper into his throat. "There, keep your jaw slack. You'll get used to it." The gun is withdrawn slightly before thrusted back in. The man is essentially fucking his throat with it.

His breath stuttered with a choked moan when the other man took him in the other hand and began stroking him in tandem.

"You did get hard from this. The past three days must've considerably sensitized you."

His head is growing fuzzy from the stimulation, hip bucking along the other's hand.

"Eager, are you." The gun is pulled out with a wet sound. An appraising look swept over him. "Good?" His back arched in response. A faint snicker came.

The hand stopped. Then in a flash, he is flipped over, face down.

"--What are you-?"

"Relax. I'll make you feel better." The rest of his sentence fell when the gun roughly penetrates him.

"-Aah!"

"Take it easy. I'll give it to you." A hand fell on his hip, fingers digging into his skin. Then he starts to move, gradually settling into a brutal pace.

It feels as if his nerve endings have been lit up on fire. Each stroke of the hard gun against his inner walls send him closer to the edge. And his body surrendered to the onslaught of pain and pleasure. The build-up eventually became unbearable, voice climbing in pitch; like a dam impending to burst.

"Getting there?" A choked moan escaped him when the man punctuated his question with a particularly hard thrust. "Very well. Go on then."

The words barely reached him through the haze - white noise buzzed in his ears. He came hard enough his vision blacked out for a moment. He vaguely registers the sensation of the gun being pulled out and unceremoniously thrown away, falling with a dull thud. By then, he's completely drained.

Within his half-conscious state, the other man released his hip, promptly turning him back around, evaluating his handwork.

"You look good like this. Well fucked. And maybe next time you'll put more consideration into your words, though it won't change much things. I suppose I'll let you rest for now."

And that was the last thing he heard before he passed out completely.

 

*

 

He woke up again sometimes later; sluggish with a kind of heaviness in his limbs. Where is this? A dimly lit surrounding. Judging from how dark it is in here, it must've been nighttime outside. Faintly, he can make out ornate patterns on the high ceilings and it slowly registers to him that he's now lying on a bed. A bedroom?

A prickle on his left arm had him turning to that side, seeing a bag of IV fluid attached to the limb.

"You're up?" The voice coming from his right quickly caught his attention. Seeing the man being close by brought a sense of distress, though the man himself is apparently occupied at the moment. The other glanced his way, briefly pausing his current activity. "Don't have to look so scared." The sound of paper rustling reached him as the man flips over a new page. His eyes went down to the book in the other's hands; a black, hardcover book.

"In case if you wondering, you've been out for about two days."

Shock awash him. "-What?" How?

"You went down with a fever and severe dehydration." The man replied without moving away from his book. "Whether you chose to believe it or not is up to you, though I have been left feeling quite bored since then." He flinched when those eyes returned to him. A snicker follows.

"Calm down. I'm not in the mood to play right now."

"..-Where is this?"

"My room." He flips over to another page.

"Why?"

"Frankly, it's where I keep most of my stuffs."

"Then why bother with this?"

"It's maintenance. Can't have you breaking down on me."

"Or you'll be out of toys to play with?"

"Exactly. And you're learning fast. I'm impressed." The glee that coloured his voice is akin to an adult feeling joy over their children's achievement. He felt sick.

He went back to the ceiling. It's been two more days since then, making it five days of silence.

He's not one to give up hope.

(But it sure does feels empty.)

"What happens outside?"

"Nothing much, just some ruckus here and there."

Some ruckus. He knows what's it about. He had experienced it before when Burai fell during one of their missions.

Burai was lost because they abandoned him.

"What were you people doing? We could've saved him!"

"The higher ups has determined that the risk is too high, and we could not afford to jeopardize the mission in any way. There's nothing more to negotiate."

Wonder if this is karma? A retribution for his weakness that day. If so then, maybe he deserved it somehow.

I have been abandoned.

He fell back to sleep, unknowing of the pair of eyes silently watching him.

 

*

 

A drop of water. Wind rustling through tall tree branches.

A breathless moan filled the room.

A creak of the bedframe.

"-Nnh..-"

Another drop of water.

Phone buzzing on the side table. Dark eyes flicks towards the offending sound. It went silent after a while, only to start vibrating again.

"-Tch."

Straightening up, he grabs the phone off the side table. "What is it?"

"-XXX would like to see you."

"For what?"

"Something quite urgent, so he said."

Urgent, eh? His eyes momentarily went back to matter at hand. "Fine, let him pass."

 

He opens the door to his office, catching sight of another person occupying the space. A tall blonde man in a white suit.

"Sorry for the short notice, but I figured you need to be informed as soon as possible." The man wore a smile on his face. Annoying.

"I'm busy so make it short."

"The road is mostly clear. Unfortunately, they seem to have caught wind of it." Eh, wonder how?

"Then do something about that. You can do at least that much. If you're done then you can go." Turning around, he makes his exit.

The man silently watches his retreating back, grinning to himself. "I guess I'll see to that."

 

On his way back, he pulls out his phone, blindly calling a certain contact. The line connected after a few seconds.

"Keep an eye on XXX. Make sure he doesn't get out of line." A click and the line's off. Pulling out a card key, he unlocks the door to his personal suite.

The sounds of someone's laboured breathing greeted him upon his entry. The room is dark safe for the dim bedside lamp lighting up the area in warm tones.

Depositing his phone onto the side table, he promptly strips out of his clothing. "Sorry 'bout that. Something got up but it's all done now." His eyes shift towards the one lying in his bed. "Hope you didn't mind." He spoke in a light tone, though whether his words reached the other as intended or not is another story.

Climbing on bed, he looked down on the other, taking in his current appearance.

Hands tied up over his head, chained to the headboard. Breathing hard, writhing on the bed with his legs held open with a spreader bar.

"--Haa-" Even under the dim light, he can see the high colours from the other's face down to his chest.

"Looking good, are you?" Reaching down, fingering the vibrator buried deep inside the other.

A jolt shook through the one under him followed by a loud moan. "You're leaking quite a lot since I left you. I suppose I should reward you or something for being patient." He continues to roll his fingers, eliciting more sounds from the other, before withdrawing altogether with the vibrator.

"Shall we continue where we left off?"

 

*

 

He blinked open his eyes to dull morning light filtering through the dark curtains. He can hear sounds of rain water pattering against the tall windows. It's raining. It has an odd, almost surreal feeling.

"What day is it?" He asked out loud to no one in particular.

"Last I checked it's Friday." A reply came nonetheless. He heaves a soft sigh.

Turning to the side, steadfastly ignoring the twinge in his lower half. The dull ache is more or less constant now. So is the feeling of helplessness and emptiness that had made home in his chest. He stares at the cuffs snug around his wrists, simply observing the light reflecting off the metal parts and chains linked to them.

"How long has it been?" Low humming reached him.

"Three weeks? Somewhere around that."

It's just been three weeks. It felt much longer to him, to the point that he hardly recalls anything prior to his imprisonment. As if he had always been here. When was the last he went outside?

(Does he still want to get out?)

(What is there for him?)

"What are you thinking of?" The question broke his train of thoughts. Blinking, he shifts his gaze towards the one lying next to him.

"..I wonder what." He falls into a pause. "What was I doing before this?" Another humming replies with the man wearing a thoughtful expression.

"Hmm, let's see…does anything about the cops ring any bell?"

Cops? Right, he was a detective, wasn't he? Then why is he here?

"They left you to die. You looked somewhat pitiful so I picked you up." Deep in his thoughts he didn't realise that he had spoken it out.

"Why? Did I do something bad?"

A soft snort came back. "Like you can do anything bad, with a bleeding heart like yours. It's just how things are. People eventually get rid of things they no longer need."

So, it's just that. He is something to be used and discarded.

"Will you too?" The other man blinked slowly, levelling him with an unreadable emotion.

"Maybe. But I tend to be quite attached to my stuffs."

That's fine for now, he guesses. He probably won't be able to live outside this cage. Not anymore. He no longer has any purpose outside.

(And so, the angel fell.)

 

*

 

Soft ticking fills the room as the clock struck 7 o'clock. Golden orange light from the setting sun streams into the room, painting it in warm hues. Another day passed quietly.

The silence was broken when the door to the office creaks open. The visitor promptly turns around upon closing the door. A tall, blonde man, with his white suit softly glowing in the sunset. To his surprise, he was not alone.

Who?

A young man, left asleep on one of the couches. Mostly naked safe for the black shirt left unbuttoned. In a single glance he could tell the shirt belongs to someone else - silky, and a size larger. Where have he seen this man?

He took a step closer. The man doesn't seem to notice his presence.

He laid there against the back rest, head tilted back with his neck exposed, bite marks visible on the tanned skin. Apparently, his hands are bound behind him. Ah, so this is what he's busy with lately.

He couldn't deny it even if he wants to. The way the sunset gave the man a golden glow. It draws his attention like moths to a burning candle flame.

Another step. The barest of twitch crossed the other's face. A deep breathe followed by a soft sigh from slightly parted lips. Such a pretty pet.

He sat on the coffee table opposite to the sleeping man. Lifting a hand, he slowly caresses the man's bare thigh. Another mild twitch. His eyes flicks towards the other's face; still sleeping, eyebrows slightly drawn in. Keeping a firmer grip on the other, he parts the other's legs, exposing him.

"--Nnh.." He felt that. It only eggs him more. Let me hear more of you. Sliding his hand lower, inserting his fingers into the man's exposed entrance. A low moan came in return. He continues to work his fingers in. A shudder went through the other's body, hip stuttering.

 

Click. "I wonder what are you doing?" His hand stopped when a gun presses into the back of his head.

"You're back quite early today." He replied without turning around.

"Something felt a little off today. Just that."

"You know, I've been wondering what occupying you so much lately, and today I found it out." He resumes his prior activity, disregarding the situation. "You trained him really well." The gun presses harder into his skull.

"You seem to be mistaking something."

"And that is-?"

"I know everything that you're planning. And I also know that you're the one that leaked the info to the cops."

"Hmm." A momentary pause falls filled in only with the sounds from the other man. "Am I supposed to be impressed or threatened now?"

"None of my business."

A telltale metallic glint at the corner of his eyes from beyond the windows is enough for him. "Then I guess you should consider your actions well."

 

"Should I?"

Within seconds of that reply, his in-ear buzzes with incoming message.

"--Sir! The enemy found out! The sniper has been taken down! We have been compromised!--" The communication abruptly cuts off, trailing into white noise. His eyes widen in alarm.

"-And there goes your plan." The gun remained.

"How?"

"I have my ways." The gun withdraws by a fraction before pulling away.

Seeing a chance, he spins around, training his gun towards his opponent only to be caught in surprise when the other man grabbed his right hand and replaces his gun right between his eyes. A smirk graced the other's lips.

"Your mistake is overestimating your own worth, and touching what is mine."

The last thing he saw was the flash of madness in the man's eyes.

 

*

 

An urgent knock came from the door. Dark eyes flicks towards the direction of the sound. "Come on in." Immediately, the door swings open, revealing one of his men.

"Sir, I heard a gunshot. Is everything alright?"

"Ah, it's nothing." He bends down to picks up the still sleeping man into his arms. He must've been considerably exhausted to sleep through a gunshot. "By the way, clean that up will you?" He gestured towards the offending trash with a nod of his head.

"Understood."

Having done with his business, he makes his way back to his suite with the man in tow.

It's when he's holding the man he can finally tell - he's warmer than usual. He's running a fever. A light groan pulls his attention downward, catching the man stirring up from his sleep.

"--What happened?"

"Nothing. A pest got in earlier, that's all."

The other flinches from the passing light overhead. "..Feels like I just got ran over by a bus."

He lets out a faint snicker over the remark. "Figures. You got another fever." A sigh came from the other.

"Seems like I'm getting sick often lately." Somehow the man looked forlorn.

"You're not dying yet." The man simply blinked up at him, head resting on his shoulder. "What is it?"

"..-Nothing, just got reminded of something." A short pause follows before the other picks it up again. "The last time someone cared for me when I got sick was when mom was still around."

"And how long ago was that?"

"Long. She passed away when I was still young. Since then it was just me."

"Other family member?"

"Didn't have any. Don't even know who's my dad is." He replies with a low hum. "Wonder if anyone cares when I'm gone." The man added in a small voice.

He stops in front of his bedroom door, unlocking it. Crossing the distance to the bed, he slowly lowers the man into it.

Taking a short trip to the adjoining bathroom, he wets a small towel, wringing out excess water.

He went back to the bed to drop the towel over the other's forehead. "Don't go all sentimental on me."

The other blinks slowly, and then a small smile tugs his lips. "I know."

 

*

 

He looks on in confusion.

"..What are you doing?" The other man raised an eyebrow in question.

"What does it look like?"

"Are you..adjusting the cuffs?" Because that is what it looks like to him. "You usually bind them behind me."

"I am. I know."

"Why?" It struck him as odd.

"Easier for you to move."

"That's why I'm asking." The man briefly made eye contact. As always, he couldn't tell what goes through the other's mind.

One last tug and the cuffs are in place. "Just felt like it. Also, we're going somewhere for a bit after this."

"Eh?"

 

One oddity after another. First, the change in cuff orientation. Then all of a sudden, the man wrestles him into a pair of long pants. And now, without any pretense, he's at an indoor shooting range.

A gun is shoved into his hand and he looks towards the other man as if he has grown a second head.

"What?" He stared hard at the man for a good two seconds before going back to his current dilemma.

Rolling the gun in his hands; when was the last he held one? Can he still shoot it? He fumbled with it for quite a bit before raising the gun towards one of the targets.

A deep breathe in. Out. He steadies himself, holding the gun with both hands. Then he pulls the trigger.

The recoil is strong enough to send him staggering backward. It has been that long since the last he handled a gun.

"Mm, not bad." He looks toward the target piece at the other's comment. True enough, it missed about an inch to the right of the heart. "Though I guess being out of practice affected your power quite a bit." Looking downwards on his hands; his right hand is still trembling from the shock.

Ah, he still can do it.

"Let's continue."

"Ah, ok." Flicking his right wrist, he prepares for the next shot. To his surprise, a different hand joined him, steadying his grip on the gun, followed by another one resting on his hip and a hard chest pressing against his backside. He reflexively looks up at the man that had materialized behind him. An eyebrow is raised at him.

"Better than risking you getting thrown back and breaking something." Huh, that made sense somehow.

And they stayed there until late into the day, slowly regaining his bearings as they go.

 

*

 

Two months.

It's been two months since that mission.

Two months since the last they saw him.

"It's been this long, aren't there anything yet?" She turned to her two remaining teammates; both similarly wearing tight expressions.

"The thing is, the higher ups are uninclined to put any more work into it." The man took off his glasses, heavily leaning into the chair. "I tried investigating it myself but nothing is working."

A loud crash resounds in the office as the other man kicked a nearby chair in a fit of anger. "They left him to die like what they did to Burai that time. They couldn't control him so they decide to get rid of him." He went to one end of the room, collapsing against the wall, head in his hands. "I should've gone along with him that time."

She felt the same. "I tried to do the same back then." She'll never forget the blunt dismissal they met her with that time. "Isn't there anything that we can do?" Silence filled the room, neither knowing what to say.

Whether he still lives or not, nobody knows.

But after witnessing whatever happened in that recording, she almost wished that he had died instead.

A wave of nausea hit her as she was reminded of it. Taking deep breaths, she managed to push it down. It was horrible. It's better to die than be stuck in that perpetual hell.

 

The shrill ring of her phone shook her out of her incessant thoughts. Mindlessly, she hit the recieve button without seeing the screen.

"-It's me."

Unexpectedly, the urgent voice of her teammate alerted her. "--Rian, listen up--"

 

"--He's alive!"

 

*

 

"How was it, your first outing in a long time?" He leaned back into the couch, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. He watches the other man standing about the area seemingly trying to burn off excess energy.

A flicker of uncertainty passed the other's face. "-It feels strange." The man chose to sit on the couch opposite to him. "It's not like how I remembered it."

"Well, that's to be expected, I guess. It's fine, there's nothing to rush about." He paused, gauging his companion's expression. "But now you believe what I said, right?"

Ryuga stared hard at his own hands. "I do. Though, I've never actually doubted that." As if he's looking at the world through new eyes - what he's seeing now clashed with how he had known it. And he's trying to wrap his head around this too many, too loud thoughts running through his head. Feeling restless, he stands back up and make way towards the other man, promptly settling into the other's free lap.

"What's gotten into you?" Ryuga's sudden action surprised him a bit though he chose to let it be.

The other curled up slightly, tucking his head in the crook of his neck. "Nothing, just--" A subtle shift, "-it's somewhat grounding." He slowly focuses on the other's heartbeat, letting go of his thoughts.

A humming came, sending vibrations through the contact. "Did you miss me?" Ryuga looked upwards at his question.

"..I wonder. I'm used to working alone, though.." But it's always better to have someone with you.

Does that mean he trusts the other man? Maybe, in some way. He trusts Jinga to not lie to him, to not sugarcoat anything. He's aware he's probably being manipulated (used) but he knows the other man won't abandon him.

(He'll simply cut him off once he outlived his usefulness, and not left to rot away like they did to him. It's a morbid thought but it's quite reassuring.)

"Hey, nothing changed, right? With us, I mean." A warm hand went to his nape, lightly petting him.

"Mm, more or less. Though to put it obviously, you're something like my knight now rather than a hostage or whatever."

"So, you're the king then? What about the queen?" The other looked down on him.

"She's around minding her own business." Ryuga silently blinked at him.

"Don't that kind of thing is usually between the two of you?"

"It used to, I guess. But not anymore. And we chose to go on separate ways."

He wanted to ask more though he felt like it wasn't his place to do so. Wonder if that's what happened to his parents too.

The fingers running through his hair is lulling him. It's calming.

 

"..Did you fall asleep?" He asked out loud towards the sleeping man. Of course, it's his first mission after all. This much is expected. His investment turns out to be successful. Smiling to himself, he continues petting the one sleeping in his arms.

"I guess I'll let you be since you did a good job today."

 

*

 

She stood facing Takeru, who is sitting on the chair opposite to her, wearing an uncharacteristically odd expression.

"What you said - that he's alive, is that true?" A heavy pause pressed upon them. She waited until the other man decided to continue.

"..-It is."

"Then why are you-?" Why do you look as if you've seen a ghost?

Takeru roughly ran his hand through his hair in frustration before facing her. "He is, but..- I don't think he's the same him anymore."

"What do you mean?" Just as Takeru was going to add, the door to their office abruptly opens, revealing Aguri looking somewhat distressed.

"--Both of you, there's something I need to show you."

 

A wave of dread washes her like a bucket of ice-cold water. She couldn't say anything, collapsing into a nearby chair. The other two men both wore the same somber expression.

"..So it is him." It was Takeru who voiced that out. He too is still trying hard to convince himself despite bearing witness to it. "For a moment I thought I saw a stranger with a passing resemblance then."

In between the chaos and raging shootouts, a glimpse of someone familiar caught the corner of his eyes. He reflexively followed after the faint beacon, pushing through the crowds. It can't be.

"-Ryuga!" He called out, not knowing whether his voice reached the other or not. Seemingly having heard his call the other turned around to face him. And for a moment the world falls into silence.

It is you. Where have you been? What happened to you?

The man only looked back at him with an odd, almost melancholic expression. He couldn't hear what was said then but he could read the other's lips.

[I'm sorry.]

Then the other disappears into the chaos, never to be seen again.

"What does this supposed to mean?" Rian picked up one of the pictures lying on the desk, staring in disbelief.

"I don't know the full context myself, but from how it seems, I guess it is safe to say that he is now an enemy." The shaky clarification from Aguri made her feel worse.

"Any possibility that he's being manipulated?"

"I'm afraid there's none. We haven't run into their group at all until recently since that incident. Even then we never met them head on."

"Any orders from the higher up yet?"

"So far, none. But that was the first in a long time, the geezers probably aren't aware of it yet." Takeru's fist curled in his lap. "Though I don't know if I could actually fight him."

Neither can she. Ryuga was the closest to a family that she had left since she lost both her father and Burai. But she can't bear the thought of him getting hurt and being used against his will.

What should I do?

 

*

 

The dark room is silent safe for the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional creaking of the bedframe. The air is heavy and humid, like a weighted blanket over the enclosed space.

He kept his eyes on the one settled in his lap; sweat glistening on tanned skin, chest heaving from exertion, colours high on his face. It's amazing how time (and other external factors) can change someone in a quite drastic way. Just three months ago the other man was like a chained animal, baring his fangs whenever he gets too close.

He rolls his hip up, meeting the other in the middle, eliciting a sharp gasp. The other looks good like this, riding him with fervor like his life depends on it. His grip on the other's hip tightens when the man involuntarily tensed around him.

"Close, are you?"

"Shut up." The other replied in a breathless voice. "Won't you just fill me up already?"

"And where's the fun in that?" Oh, he likes teasing the man so much it's almost second nature to him at this point. He likes it when the man met his teasing head on with flame sparking in those eyes. Can't help that the other is easy to tease.

The other promptly collapses on him, hands bracing on his chest. "Tired?"

A grunt reached him. Both of them are still hard despite the ongoing play, neither wanting to give in. "No thanks to you." Though the jab significantly lacks venom from the way the other sounds.

"Take your time. It's quite comfortable like this." He made his point by squeezing the man's ass, to which the other replied with an annoyed groan. "Or should I take over instead?" To be fair, Ryuga was the one to suggest this and he's simply going along with the flow.

"--Mm." The other replied with a small nod and a barely audible hum.

"Very well, then-" Without waiting, he straightens up while keeping his hold on the other man. The sudden movement jolted the other man, reflexively wrapping his legs around his waist and looking down at him with wide eyes.

He surged up, thrusting with enough force to rock the man in his lap earning him a punched-out moan from the other. The position made it quite a work-out for him; the other man may be shorter but he's not at all that light. Good thing he had his energy reserved. The other noticed and is now wearing a smirk.

"Hope you have enough energy to last yourself."  Heh, cheeky. It's a good challenge.

"You say that like you're not clenching hard on each thrust." Another one and the other's hold around his back tightens a bit more; blunt nails digging into his skin. He ducks into the crook of the other's neck, mouthing against the fluttering pulse. "You're burning like a furnace."

"Isn't that your fault? My insides feel like they're melting down." Hot breath blows next to his ear.

"Then, shall we meld together?" A light huff replies.

"..Doesn't sound too bad." They'd fit well together, completing each other.

His pace grew erratic with the passing time. Not long after that they both tumbled over together.

Collapsing back into the mattress along with the other man still on top of him, he lets out a faint snicker. "-That was hard." And he can definitely feel the twinge in his lower back.

The other broke into a soft laugh as well. "That's what you get for being difficult." Strange, the sound left a pleasant ringing in his ears.

A moment passed in comfortable silence. Recollecting himself, the other man propped himself up on his chest, looking down. The eyes that are looking down upon him shone with a somewhat unearthly glow. The deep shadow within made the golden tint seem brighter.

"..I've made a decision."

"What is it?" The gaze kept its place, holding his attention.

"I'll follow you. I will stay with you for as long as you need me. And when that time comes, just kill me." There's steel in the man's voice and ember in his eyes. The man had just pledged his oath to him with utmost sincerity. Even tainted, an angel is still an angel after all.

"Very well. I'll hold onto that."

A small smile graced the man's lips; both a little sad and grateful.

"Thank you."

 

*

 

Another day, another case, another hit-and-miss.

As if they were chasing after a wraith; all they could catch is the shadow. By the time they got to the place it has been abandoned. Always just a little late. In a way, it could be said that their operations had become more efficient (no doubt thanks to a certain someone) but they're also seem to be actively avoiding contact with the police.

It's frustrating, more so because she knows the reason why.

"This working speed and efficiency, it's him alright." Takeru sounded somber as he said that. Of course, he was one of the reasons why their missions are always successful.

(Except for one.)

"What to do, Rian?" Aguri looked her way with a frown.

"I'm not sure myself. But I know he's not the kind to betray his friends. There must be some kind of reason."

The man replies with a sigh. "The only way to know is to catch him."

And how to do that?

Lay a trap? It would work to a certain degree, but just that is not enough. The sure-fire way is to catch him off-guard.

Which would be feasible had they not been going against someone who can hear the faint ticking of a time bomb from metres away. Ryuga is technically the entire canine squad compressed into one man.

All his contact routes are dead so that's a no-go too.

 

The thought followed her home and onwards. She's still stuck in it even as she prepares for the next mission.

Another day, another case. There should be at least something out of this. The smooth click of her gun loading hammered that into place.

This is the fifth case overall since the kidnapping. Their pattern of activities changed significantly. Figures; with Ryuga's abilities, it is certainly more profitable to exploit him rather than kill him.

Ryuga's words from sometimes ago rang in her mind.

"The higher ups are hiding something and they are afraid of what we can do. They got Burai last time. Next it could be any of us. And when that time comes, I need you to hold onto what you think is right."

What I think is right.

Nothing is right. That much she can say now.

 

"-Let's go." The voice of the mission commander buzzed from her in ear comm device.

A warehouse on the western side of the city. They've been keeping an eye on this one for quite a while now.

As expected, it has been emptied. Always a step ahead. The team dispersed to cover the area. There could still be something left that they could use.

She was looking around when a movement caught the corner of her eyes. Just as she turns around, the shadow disappears into one of the exit ways. Cautiously, she followed after.

It's ominously dark outside with the moon covered by storm clouds.

A sound to her left. Then a scratch of the ground from the right. Like a game of hide-and-seek.

The chase brought her to one of the building within the compound situated a little further away from the main warehouse. Climbing to the top, she sees a man standing on the far edge of the roof, facing away.

Slowly, she makes way closer.

"..-Ryuga, is that you?" At her call, the man turns around to face her. It is you. "-What have you been doing--"

"-Rian, I'd rather if you stay where you are." Her steps faltered. He broke into a small smile. "I'm sorry. I had no way of reaching you otherwise."

"Tell me, is it true that you're working for him now?"

"Yes, it is." His voice clear, unwavering.

"Why? After what he did to you.." His smile took a bitter edge. It pains her.

"You saw, the recordings." Yes. And how she wished she could wipe it from her memories. "He did that. He still does."

"Why?" Ryuga broke the eye contact, looking away to the side.

"I wonder why. Maybe because he made me realise something." He falls into a brief pause but picks it up before she could. "He made me realise that the police are never going to come for me. He made me realise that I have been abandoned."

"We would never-!"

His eyes went back to her with an unreadable expression. "I know. It's not your fault. This is a choice that I made."

Buzzing reached her. "Rian, report now." Her attention wavered for a split second. When she looks back towards the other, he's already facing away.

"I reached out to you tonight because I needed to tell you that. It'll do you good if you stop chasing after me."

"What are you going to do next?"

He looks upward, watching the clouds passing overhead. "I don't know. He hasn't ordered me anything yet." He turns slightly, giving her a last smile.

"I'm sorry, I need to go back to my master." And then he jumps of the ledge.

By the time she gets to the other side, the man is nowhere to be seen.

 

*

 

An almost serene feeling envelopes him as he steps into the compound. As usual, he still doesn't know where this exactly is. The car windows are completely blacked out, blocking views from both inside and outside. They only let him out once they arrived.

This odd, haunted-looking place that have become something like a home to him.

(It's his cage; someplace he would fly back to no matter how far he goes.)

The light in the office is still on despite the lateness. That man must've been quite fidgety. Might as well take his time.

The first thing he saw when he opens the door to the office is the man seemingly lounging on one of the couches, calmly sipping a glass of wine.

"Welcome back. That took you shorter than expected." He suppresses a snicker. Being this long, he can already read the man's body language well enough.

"There's no other reason to prolong the outing once the job is done."

"Then, how is with your little plan? Did you get to meet them?"

"It worked. I met Rian earlier." A low hum replies. The man continues with his drink while wearing a vague expression. Noticing his stare, the man looks his way from the corner of his eyes.

"What?"

"You're not jealous, are you?"

"Of course not." His eyes tell a different story, though.

"We're not related like that. She's more of a family to me." He makes his way over to the other man, climbing onto the couch to straddle the other's lap. "Besides, I have nowhere else to return to but here."

"How reassuring." The man set his glass down on the side table, reaching out to circle his arms around his waist. "I don't like it when people get their hands on my stuffs."

"They won't." He squirmed a bit when the hands on him gradually drops lower. Inpatient, as always.

"Anyways, it's good that I put this on you beforehand." The man made his point by sharply tapping on the plug embedded in him through the leather of his pants, resulting in an audible hitch in his breath. "Feeling good?"

"It did helps with the concentration, though." Another hum reached him as the man begin to play around with the aforementioned object. His back twitches when it brushed against a particular spot. It's starting to get hotter.

"Can you hold on, or do you want it now?" The man is certainly not making it easy to wait with his eager hands. Before he could say anything, two fingers press against his lips. Abandoning all thoughts, he chose to open his mouth to let them in, sucking on the digits.

He's getting drunk.

"How about this - I'll fuck your mouth first then I'll fill you up nicely. You'd like that, don't you? Being used."

The fingers were removed with a wet sound. Half of what was said flew over his head; blinking owlishly when the pressure in his mouth suddenly disappears.

"Gone already? You're a lost cause. Fine, I'll get you where we need to be."

He vaguely registers being picked up, then the rest of the night is lost to him.

 

*

 

"-'Stop chasing after me', Ryuga said that?" Aguri eyed her in disbelief. She can only nods in silence. "How does he look like, when he said that?"

"I don't know. He didn't show it."

The silence that fell over them felt oppressive. All of them are at lost with what to do next.

"--I've been thinking,-" Both of them turns towards Takeru, listening in. "-Why not we just go rogue? The cops ain't gonna do anything right at this point."

"But that means becoming criminals. We need more than just courage for that." Aguri is right, but Takeru's idea is feasible too. They would need a sound plan to carry it out.

A thought crossed her mind.

"Both of you, I need you to help me with something-"

 

The night air is oddly cold in this time of the year. Her exhale came out in a cloud of white vapour. Her surrounding is dark safe for the irregularly blinking streetlamp she's standing under.

Pulling out her phone, she went through the last mail in her list. This is the place mentioned. Looking upward; the half-moon is visible through the clouds.

Wonder if I'm doing the right thing?

Ryuga told her to hold onto what she feels is right. No one ever knows if what they're doing is right. There's no choice but to keep on going regardless of what may come. The only undeniable truth now is that the ones who are supposed to be on the side of justice is anything but that.

Wonder if Ryuga himself is doing the same thing as what they're trying to do?

Is that why he said that?

But she couldn't wipe off the feeling that something had broken inside the man. To readily accepts his abuser. There was an odd light in his eyes that night. One that she couldn't fully gauge.

What really happened to you?

 

A faint sound from her left pulls her attention to that side, seeing a lone lady in a black suit.

"Were you the one who contacted us?" The lady asks in a clear voice. There's a kind of steel in them.

"I am. And you are?"

"I shall be your guide tonight. However, if I sensed any kind of malicious intent from you, you should know what would happen then." Well, that's rather reassuring to hear. She expected this much.

"Very well, then. Now lead me the way to your queen."

 

*

 

Everything passed like a violent storm and she is left behind with ringing in her ears and stinging pain in her eyes.

She had known something is bound to go south that day; there was a palpable bad feeling in her chest the moment she woke up from sleep. She had slept fitfully the night before, unable to wipe away an awful dread that had bloomed without her notice.

It's been almost a year since Ryuga was taken away and a few months since their last meeting. After their first run-in at the warehouse, they had met each other again sometimes later. One which she suspected was a coincidence on both parts.

Ryuga had seemed urgent that day with tension lining his features.

"You should fall back and keep away. It'll be a huge mess and I won't be able to cover you. I don't want any of you to be caught in the middle."

Within the confusion and ruckus, she managed to catch sight of the ringleader, standing some distance away from them. He watches their interaction in silence as if he could hear their exchange. A vicious chill ran down her spine then from the look in the man's eyes - deep, cold, consuming. Like a black hole. Then his eyes went to Ryuga, and she could swear there was a flash of light within them.

She had wondered what it meant.

 

She had known about the incident long before any of them, courtesy of Ryuga himself. She tried to prepare herself, readied herself to meet him again on the opposite side of the war, but she'll never could've prepared herself for how it ended.

It was loud. It was pure chaos. The police were caught off guard that day that it was truly a stroke of blessing that she managed to warn her teammates prior to the attack. That day would surely go down in history as the worst case ever.

Many were lost that day.

And she too, lost someone she held dear.

 

*

 

The blaring sirens were deafening, so is the unceasing gunshots from both sides. It's a war. No other word is more appropriate to describe what is currently going on. They are caught in between trying to push the civilians as far away from the crossfire and trying to hold their ground against the violent attacks.

They came like a storm. And the formation and pattern are painfully reminiscent of someone very familiar to her.

It's Ryuga, through and through. She can recognize his style in a glance. It's simple and direct, but damn hard to break apart. Burai really taught him well in that aspect. It almost feels like they're going against a paramilitary force instead of the mafias.

Being one of the core strategists, she was mostly kept far from the frontlines. Bits and pieces of what goes out front reached her from both Aguri and Takeru who are out in the field. Her heart skipped a beat every time she caught sight of Ryuga via the surveillance drones.

(She sorely wished she could reach through the screen and pick him up, keep him away from the dangers.)

 

"--Can't we somehow break the formation?" Came the field commander's voice. She's been wrecking her brain for the past one hour since the fight worsened. Another officer next to her similarly wears a difficult expression; neither of them coming up with anything.

To break it apart they would need to count on the snipers set around the perimeter. From what Aguri told her earlier, even they are having difficulties with that.

They need to snipe the figureheads.

They need to take down Ryuga.

And they're trying their damnest to achieve that without outright killing him.

From what she could see, Ryuga and that man are the ones holding the formation. They would need to take down at least one of them to shake the enemy.

(Though ultimately, they would need to take care of both.)

She curled her fist tight enough to leave crescent marks on her palm.

She hates this.

She hates that the situation turned out like this

She hates that the ones she's working with forced her to fight against her own family.

Nothing had been right since they sent Ryuga to his death that day.

She was bidding her time when suddenly things take turns for the worse.

She can feel her blood runs cold when a small chance appeared, and a shot hit Ryuga in his right shoulder. Her breath hitches in her throat; there was faint ringing in her ears with everything else silenced. And then a second shot echoes.

As if time had slowed down to a crawl - she saw everything that happened within that split-second interval.

She noticed the man's eyes went off to a certain direction and the brief flash of something crossed his expression. Then he pulled Ryuga behind him before a shot landed on him.

The shot got him straight through the chest.

He saw the shot coming and chose to shield Ryuga with himself.

As expected, the formation broke in the confusion and they were able to overpower the enemy. She got up from her chair and ran towards where the other man is.

 

By the time she got there, he and the remaining hostile forces were completely surrounded. A sharp pain lanced through her chest over the way Ryuga looked then.

He was on the ground with the other man half lying in his arms; eyes blank, left arm around the other in a somewhat protective hold.

"--Stand down, drop your weapons and we'll spare you." The field commander's voice echoes in the silence. He made way closer to the pair, keeping his gun aimed towards Ryuga.

"Give up. Your leader is dead. There's nothing more you can do."

The voice that replies is painfully shaky, like he's trying hard to keep himself from crumbling apart. "..-Give up? How? When I've got nothing left."

At that moment, everything made sense to her. The reason why everything turns out the way it did, the reason to Ryuga's action, and the nature of their relationship.

(In a twisted way, they had become dependent on each other.)

"Regardless, we're bringing you in. You shall answer to your crimes."

A derisive snicker came from the other man, looking upward to hold the officer's gaze. "Crimes? When you people were the one that tried to kill me when you couldn't control me?"

That triggered the officer. "Watch your words! You're only worsening your own sins."

Ryuga broke the eye contact, shifting towards the one lying on his hold.

"He picked me up when I was discarded by all of you. The first few months was literal hell-" His sentence broke midway when he looked back up towards the officer. "-Which I'm sure you've seen that video at least once."

The field commander's face blanched, jaw clenched tight.

"None of you would've hold past the first day. But I did. Because I believed that you would come for me in time. But you didn't." He paused to heave a breath.

"At some point I realised, 'Ah, I've been abandoned'. I lost myself. I don't know what should I live for."

She can feel her heart breaking the more she listens to his story. Unable to maintain her composure, she collapsed to the ground. Then, Ryuga looked her way, silently holding her wet gaze. A sob wrecked through her at the look in his eyes.

"A knight that lost his king no longer has any purpose. You're right, there's nothing left that I can do." He slowly broke into a sad, sad smile, and an unspeakable grief struck her.

"--I'm sorry. Thank you--" He lifted his left hand with the gun, pointing it towards his head. Her eyes widen with her voice stuck in her throat.

 

"--Goodbye."

 

 

 

~

 

It's been a year since then.

One long year. A year that felt like a millennia ago.

She went out to the veranda, standing in the cold night air. The sharp, stinging coldness against her skin feels somewhat grounding, more so when things hardly feels real nowadays.

Casting her eyes to the brightly lit city spread in front of her; how much of those were built on lies and human exploitation? Compared to now, her life back then felt like a massive joke.

They were manipulated, used, for the sake of furthering the ambitions of certain corrupt individuals. Ryuga had known that and that's why he did what he does back then.

(He had tried to avert their attention from the rest of his teammates by making himself the target.)

(In a way, it worked to some extent. But it will never dampen the pain she felt that day.)

 

"What are you doing out here?" A smooth female voice came from behind her, breaking her line of thought. Turning around, her eyes fall onto a pale-skinned lady in a long black dress. She seemed to glow under the moonlight.

"Nothing, just thinking about stuffs." A low hum reaches her as the other makes way closer.

"Still thinking about that?"

"Mm, can't help it. The thought comes back from time to time." It was regret. But there's nothing more she could do about it now. "I still wished things could have turned out differently."

The other joined her, leaning on her arms against the railing. "It was not something within our control. What we could do is believe that their decisions that day was of their own choosing."

She kept silent as the other's words went through her. It's what she's been telling herself all the time. But the scar runs deep, and she suspects nothing would ever be able to fill it back up.

"You're right." She silently watches the other; wonder how she felt about that? The other never outright tells her but there are things that she could conclude herself.

(Sometimes she would catch the other lady sitting alone in the dark, silently nursing a glass of wine with a faraway look. And she would sit just beyond the corridor, keeping watch.)

(In a way, she could somewhat understand how Ryuga felt.)

”We're both broken souls. I know the wrongs that he did to me, but somehow, I can't bring myself to leave him."

He had always been the softest of all of them. She knew that ever since she found him almost drowning from trying to save a kitten that fell into a rushing stream all those years ago.

"Is there anything from those two?" Her companions voice once again broke her out of her reminiscence. Somehow, the other's voice had become an anchor to her, keeping her from drifting away.

"Mm, nothing yet. Though knowing those two, they're probably doing fine wherever they are." Takeru went underground earlier last month and Aguri flew somewhere out of country. They'll contact her when they feel the need to. It's how they've always been. "And any updates from Fusa yet?"

"She said it's moving on without a hitch. It'll be ready by the end of the month." She can somehow hear the aforementioned person's enthusiasm from the other's words. They can always count on her to get things working. "How about we have a small celebration tonight?"

She raised her eyebrows in question. "Celebration? On what?"

The other looked ahead to a point beyond the horizon. "I wonder, just suddenly felt like having one."

And she felt that too, slowly breaking into a smile. "Doesn't sound like a bad idea. Shall we?"

The other nodded with a smile of her own. And then they both make way back inside in companionable silence.

 

 

 

 

Notes:

greetings, peasants

ok so i have absolutely no idea as to why brain insist that i wrote this bloody thing
i started the fic while squinting through a heat-induced migraine with the conviction that i would make this the most fked up thing ever (in which i'm pretty sure was the migraine talking at the time)
i often had to pause during the more unhinged part, take a breather, then convince myself that this is supposed to be fked up
i also managed to overcome(?) my inablity to write smut. no that was a lie. i only found a way to circumvent my inability to describe actions and thus somehow managed to power through the smuts. some parts may be a little wonky though
at times i felt as if i am grappling with myself as i wrote this. then halfway through i got the absolutely horrendous idea of killing both of them to drive home the fked-upness of their relationship
i wrote this with the intention of making it as unhealthy as i possibly can. yeah

( ) notes:
- the government is corrupt. this is me projecting my anti-establishment views. you don't have to follow me
- at some point ryuga lost his sense of self and (unfortunately) reduced himself to an object rather a person. he decided to follow jinga purely for the reason that he gave him a purpose (whatever that is)
- their backstory roughly follows yamitera/goldstorm
- jinga may have suffered from ptsd with severe untreated bipolar disorder. this was accidental on my part. amily got off better than him which likely culminates into their (implied) divorce
- implied that burai adopted both ryuga and rian, but their situation is more or less similar to what told in yamitera
- the angel/demon metaphor was accidental. it wrote itself. yeah

thank you for reading <(_ _)>