
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7174613.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shiki_(Anime_&_Manga)
  Relationship:
      Ozaki_Toshio/Yuuki_Natsuno, Muroi_Seishin/Ozaki_Toshio, Ozaki_Toshio/
      Ozaki_Kyoko, Tatsumi/Yuuki_Natsuno, Mutou_Tooru/Natsuno_Yuuki
  Character:
      Ozaki_Toshio, Yuuki_Natsuno, Muroi_Seishin
  Series:
      Part 4 of More_Than_a_Jinrou
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-12 Chapters: 1/4 Words: 1776
****** Wounds Like This ******
by rhodrymavelyne
Summary
     This is Part 4 of 'More than a Jinrou'. Ozaki Toshio is trying to
     lose himself, or perhaps find himself again in Natsuno's arms, in
     being his victims, but he's haunted by memories of Muroi Seishin.
Notes
     I've decided that 'Part 3: Don't Let Me Be Alone' and 'Part 4: Wounds
     Like This' take place after 'Reunion'. 'Part 1: Dealing with the
     Hunger' and 'Part 2: Silence and Need' take place before 'Reunion',
     but after 'After the Explosion'. 'More than a Jinrou' takes place in
     the same universe as 'Hooked', 'I Need You', and 'Confession'. I
     don't own 'Shiki', but the characters often own my imagination. :)=
See the end of the work for more notes
Blood flowed from his neck into Natsuno’s exquisite little mouth. Toshio
groaned, thrusting upward, as if trying to force his entire being into this
slight, delicate vampire.
Wounds like this were the best. Better than Chizuka’s flirtatious nibbling at
his neck. Better than Natsuno’s cautious, gentlemanly bite on his arm, giving
him freedom.
Far better than the gush of crimson, which spilled unrelentingly out of a
perfect white wrist.
“Seishin!” He’d screamed the name, wanting to shake the fragile, limp form,
still bound in a yukata, as if Seishin was a prisoner in his own clothes.
“Seishin!” No, he couldn’t shake him. If he shook Seishin, while he was
bleeding, he might truly lose him. Forever. “How could you do something so
stupid?!”
“Only one way out.” The words were a gentle, polite murmur, yet touched with
the wilful determination which was uniquely Seishin. No one in Sotoba would
have guessed that of Toshio and Seishin, Seishin was the more stubborn of the
two. The one more likely to dig his heels in and resist the part he had to play
in the village. “I’m sorry, Toshio.”
Stupid fool. As if a faint apology would excuse anything, cancel out anything!
Stupid! Toshio squirmed and writhed under the slip of a vampire, who was his
only anchor.
Pin me down, Natsuno! Take it all, every memory, every regret, every ghost of
Seishin which haunts me every time I close my eyes! I could let the village go.
Sotoba was everything I was, but ultimately that wasn’t much. Blood and fire
washed away everything. Perhaps it’s right that it should. Cleansing Toshio’s,
as well Sotoba’s past away.
However, he couldn’t let go of Seishin. Those green eyes, always so thoughtful
and introspective, had been bright with horror, until Seishin started turning
away.
If only he’d grabbed Seishin, tried to explain, tried to make him understand!
It was too late. Seishin was gone. Toshio was all alone.
No, he had Natsuno. He’d hold onto Natsuno with every bit of strength he had
left.
“I’m still of some use, even if it’s only nourishment,” Toshio said, trying to
laugh, but it came out a rasp.
The fangs stung his flesh, as they withdrew from his neck. Yes, they were
withdrawing, as the boy pulled away from him, leaving him limp and exhausted.
“Don’t stop,” Toshio whispered. His lower regions were sticky with spent
passion, but he didn’t care. He reached up to pull Natsuno back down, but he
was too weak. “Don’t stop, Natsuno. Take it all. Take the rest.”
“Leaving me alone with a corpse,” Natsuno said. How tenderly this boy looked at
him with his luminous, violet eyes. How could anyone have thought this child
was cold? For Toshio, Natsuno had been an angel of mercy. Perfectly content to
bear the burden of Toshio’s vengeance against all of the shiki, even if it took
him down with them. “No, Toshio.”
“Finally making some demands yourself, are you?” Toshio said, smiling. He felt
strangely good. Weakened, but a little energized. It hadn’t been like this,
when Chizuka fed on him. Was Natsuno’s bite somehow special?
“You refused to put my broken heart to rest,” Natsuno said. His manner was very
soft, but he had none of Seishin’s gentle submissiveness. “Why should I do the
same for you?”
“Minx,” Toshio said, but there was no spite in his voice.
He wasn’t sure why Natsuno flinched at the word. The boy looked away, at the
window, as if he expected someone to be there.
“Got company with you?” Toshio asked. He smiled, baring his teeth. “My
invitation is only for you. No other shiki.”
“Not even Seishin?” Natsuno asked. He stared at Toshio intently. Intimately.
Was there a hint of jealousy mixed in with the sympathy?
“I just can’t stop thinking about him,” Toshio whispered. One of his hands
flailed about in a failed attempt to cover his face. His arm was too tired to
move. He closed his eyes, instead.
Bad mistake. Seishin waited, right behind his eyelids. He was right there,
behind the wheel of his car, driving on the opposite side of the road, out of
Sotoba. He turned his head, ever so slightly. Tendrils of lavender hair
trembled with the movement. His eyes met Toshio’s.
Seishin’s green eyes had the faintest red gleam, as they moved over his former
friend. Taking in the white coat, splattered with blood. Just as Seishin’s skin
had once been splattered with blood. Only the blood had been Seishin’s own. The
blood on Toshio’s coat was from someone else.
How ironic that Seishin had become shiki, not him. Only how could Seishin drive
in the daylight?
“I met him,” Natsuno said. “Your Seishin. He’s a jinrou, like me.” The young
vampire uttered the words cautiously, with especial gentleness. As if he feared
they might bruise, or hurt Toshio.
Yuuki Natsuno was still amazingly kind, for all he was one of the shiki.
“I suppose that explains why his eyes had a red glow, but he was driving from
the Kirishiki house in the daylight,” Toshio said. His lips were pulling back,
letting a dry, humourless sound escape from his throat, expell itself into the
air. Was that sound actually a laugh? “I wonder if they got to him, before he
disappeared.”
“Possibly,” Yuuki Natsuno said. His violet eyes gleamed with an unearthly
light. “They had a way of finding our weaknesses and preying upon them.”
“Mine was my wife,” Toshio said. He could almost picture it. Kyoko, bored,
wandering off the Ozaki estate, only to meet Tatsumi, who’d be at his most
charming. Kyoko had been only too eager for the company of handsome young men.
She’d thought her husband was such a man, but what a disappointing husband he’d
turned out to be. Not that his mother’s constant presence had made things any
easier. “She’s the one who let the okaegari into our house.”
“She may not have known better. My father did the same thing,” Natsuno said. He
lifted a hand tentatively towards Toshio’s cheek. “How could we have explained
what was happening? To either one of them? You didn’t know Tatsumi could move
around during the day.” Natsuno dropped his hand abruptly. He looked away.
He wants to reach out to me, Toshio thought. Not for me, but to me. He’s still
shy, though. Even after having me in so many ways, having each other, he’s
still hesitant about casual touch. Or does he still think he doesn’t have the
right to?
“If only I’d talked to you,” Toshio said. He willed his arm to move. Proximity
to Natsuno gave it strength. He reached out, seizing Natsuno’s hand in his own.
He brought it back, pressing the slender fingers against his cheek. “You ran
away, before I could speak.” Natsuno’s skin was warm. Warm with Toshio’s own
blood. “Just like you’re trying to run away, now. You’re looking for an excuse
to say goodbye, Natsuno, aren’t you? Just like everyone else in my life.”
Natsuno flinched, a slight shudder which ran through his slender frame. It
reminded Toshio too much of Seishin shuddering, before he turned and ran away
from him. Natsuno stared at him with eyes, which swam with a hundred unspoken
things. He ran his hand down Toshio’s cheek. His fingers trembled a little bit,
as they lingered over the stubbled flesh.
Was there just a hint of desperation, of need?
“Just because I’m saying goodbye doesn’t mean I’m leaving you forever,” Natsuno
murmured. He withdrew his fingers with slow reluctance from Toshio’s cheek.
“Don’t go,” Toshio whispered. He wanted to reach out for Natsuno’s hand once
more, but he’d lost the will to move. “Stay with me. Don’t be alone.”
“You need time to recover,” Natsuno said. He moved off the bed, gathering the
fallen shreds of clothes. His pants were a shredded mess. Natsuno pulled what
was left of them up his slender legs. “For your blood to replenish.”
“That’s never worked for any other shiki. Leaving their victim alone, letting
them recover,” Toshio observed. He tried to keep his voice dry and
disapassionate, but a strange ache knotted in his belly, as he watched Natsuno
button up his shirt. It had survived better than his pants. Toshio couldn’t
spot any blood stains upon it. Natsuno was a very tidy eater, considering
how…intense…the moment of feeding had been. The shirt was dark colored, though.
Perhaps Toshio couldn’t see any spots, because of its hue. “What are you going
to do?”
“I’m going to make you something to eat, before I go,” Natsuno said. “My mom
was eccentric, in many ways. One of them was she showed me how to cook.”
Dressed, he moved away from the bed, towards the open doorway. “I’ll bring it
to you. Stay here.”
“And what will you eat?” Toshio asked. The ache was spreading through his
chest, quickening in his loins. He stared at Natsuno’s, his slender hips, the
curve of his torso. Somehow, it was like looking at a woman who should be
yours. “Or rather who?”
“Who?” Natsuno froze for a second, but he didn’t turn around. No, it was not
like looking at a woman. Toshio found himself thinking of Seishin talking about
a book. All of his lavender hair had been standing on end. His green eyes had
been bright, almost feverish.
“The king of the sky gods stole a beautiful boy to be his cupbearer,” Seishin
said. “He made that boy immortal, his beauty eternal, but who’s to say he
wanted the gift?”
“Well, there are polite ways of handling the situation,” Toshio said. “He could
have simply satisfied the perverted old god, before heading off to sport with
younger, more appetizing sky goddesses…and godlings.” He gave Seishin a very
impudent wink.
“Toshio!” Seishin’s cheeks had colored, but he smiled, as if Toshio’s story
gave him a secret joy. Toshio’s studied the curve of his friend’s lips as he
smiled, the delicate bend of his neck. Maybe they shared a little of the same
joy.
“Planning to go find yourself a younger, more appetizing victim, now you’ve
left the old one exhausted?” Toshio asked. Every word burned, as he spat it
out. “Or maybe you’ve already got one waiting for you?”
“The only thing that’s waiting for me is whatever is in your fridge,” Natsuno
said, without turning around. “I’ll be back, with some food.”
He walked out of the bedroom. Toshio could only lay there, with the strange
spasms tingling through his chest.
“I’m sure you will,” he growled in a low voice he was sure the young jinrou
could hear.
End Notes
     The story Seishin tells Toshio is an ancient Greek myth about
     Ganymede, once a Trojan prince, whom Zeus carried off in a fit of
     amorous passion. The King of the Olympians made Ganymede his immortal
     cupbearer. Seishin seemed very knowledgable about western myths and
     legends, so I thought he might know this one. :)
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