Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Lies, Crimes, and Punishments ❯ Secrets ( Chapter 8 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

The ice even ran through his marrow.
But he was back - warm, safe, pure - in the walls of St. Barnard's. He'd showered the scent of failure and pity out of his hair, letting the new zestfully clean aroma cover and bless him.
And he was doing God's work now, polishing the backs of the pews with some type of liquid that made the walnut gleam. 'Old English' the bottle pronounced. Another twist in the wound.
And then Ken walked in.

He glanced up at the sound of a person entering - first gut reaction - only to wipe the false compassion off his face and replace it with a jutted jaw, set firmly in place beneath eyes that shone cold like the eighth ring of hell.
"Father."
His head dropped sharply down, intent on polishing the damnation out of the seats.

"Welcome to St. Barnard's, my child. Leave your sins at the door and enter into God's good graces." The last word he let sting and lacerate in the roiling sarcasm he spit. Ken, his love, his lover, his past, his future, and yet at the same time, the degenerate, the drug dealer, the murderer he'd come to so despise during fitful dreams of the bishop's lifeless body.
"Are there any good graces left for me?" Ken did his best to look forthright and honest - a face which he'd had much practice with in his youth. Koushiro however, was not buying any of it, no matter how sincere he truly was.
"Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall have their fill," the father recited, pouring every last drop of divinity he still had into his condemnation. Ken shrank back like the classic vampire in reach of a burning cross. Izzy was right, too right, and he'd had long enough to think about what he'd said to his other half to feel sorrow and guilt proper.
"Koushiro, Koushiro, will you let me speak? Will you let me explain? To say I'm sorry is too brief, to weep and cry and languish is too much. You'd know I wouldn't feel the level of pain I should inside and be all the more hurt for it." He walked over to the burning hellfire that cleaned the wood seats. It was too much here, too much to bask in and not cry out with burning and lamentation.
Because he'd hurt him. He'd kissed him, fucked him, even loved him, and now he only whipped at his poor fragile mind.
Ken remembered how he'd looked on that first day in the shower, the first look in his eyes, scared yet lingering in the glow and love with him in the indoor rain. So fragile. Why hadn't he taken that warning to heart? Why hadn't he treated him better?
Should it all be forsaken for his stupid ego?

Ichijouji gripped at his sable, wringing wet hair in the pain locked inside his soul. Did he have one? And why, oh why, did he have to make this so hard on Izumi, of all people.
Why in Lucifer's name couldn't it have been someone else? Or why hadn't he just turned around and moved on to a different parish?

"I don't think anything you could say would be good enough for me to forget and bless you with my forgiveness. Even God must have his limits. But why, Ken, why? Why twist up the past and turn the screws on my poor brain? Why kill? Why stay? ..." He attempted to go farther but couldn't for fear of letting loose tears. And he wouldn't cry in front of Ken now.
No way.
"Why? Would you like to know the whole sordid tale? Would it make you feel better to know the wherefores and just what's been going on inside my head? Or perhaps why even now, standing before you and feeling worse than anything I could imagine, why some terrible part of me still craves your body? Still wishes to throw you down and erase all that worry and hate from your eyes? Bury myself deep inside of you?" He stopped with the look on Izzy's face, brows knitted together and mouth pursed in disgust. "Why, my love? Why, I did it all to satisfy some sick part of me, to finish a bet made with myself, to see if it really was possible. Why? Every thing was as selfish as to simply see if I could." He paused for breath, waiting to see the true disgust really shade the father's face. "It was all simple wantonness. Wastefulness. No reason to it at all."

The anger sprang forth then. Where was it when they were children and the most vile things they could imagine had come to pass - when the whole world lay in the balance? Where was it when he was repugnantly abused - when he should've stood up for himself and said 'no'? It was here now, and damn it if it would make any difference at this late hour. He rose to his feet swiftly, knocking over the polish, letting it glug out in large glups on to the floor. His fist connected with the taller man's cheek, knocking him back a step, leaving a red welt and surprise in his osmotic blue eyes. Time stopped enough for him to realize a gasp, realize that the little one had indeed struck him, and that his penance was only just beginning.
Ken stuck a foot out behind him to regain his balance and the world returned to ticking on a normal scale. The gasp reached Izzy's ears and he slithered back behind the pew, physical rage gone again, towed under the surface.
"I deserved that." The black haired man's voice was low and reserved. "That, and so much more."
Ken had realized his genius. His plan had nearly succeeded. He'd killed a public figure in a monstrous fashion and gotten away with it. The police were baffled, heads spinning from lack of leads. He'd seduced the untouchable. Izzy's malleable body was his to play with and dabble in.
All but this. Was he truly above the law - was he superior enough to operate on his own set of morals? Nietzsche proclaimed that God was dead - but in Ken lived the belief that he was God. Was he?
"Koushiro. My mind... is warped. I don't know... I don't know." He let out a great sigh. "But I do know that I love you - that you bring me joy that I could never have asked for or hoped to see come true. I have done more evil in a lifetime than I will make up for in several lived true and pure. But I love you. Deep in this dark, craven heart I love you. Nothing could be more twisted because you are like an angel." He stopped to ponder. "Perhaps this is melodramatic and you will have none of it but it needs to be said. And perhaps that's why I'm so drawn to you. Why you are the drug of my dreams, why no chemical could make my skin itch to be touched like you do." He paused for breath, to reassemble his thoughts. His chest grew tight with love.
And since when do emperors love?
Ken's lips quirked softly in a reserved smile.
"You are the only one who could undo me so. What I need to know is, will you turn me in to the police?"
Barely audible, Izzy muttered verse 7 from the fifth chapter of the book of St. Matthew, so well hewn into his head. What could he do? Despite his love's insistency that he was born out of heaven, he knew he was just a man. A man who pretty lines and pitiful eyes had made their own.
"Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy." Then louder, so Ken could properly hear. "No love, I won't. Though I pray for your salvation that you do."
The demon bent on his knees, head bowed, bringing the father's knuckles to his mouth. He kissed each one, lingering and beginning to weep.
"My Koushiro. I could tell you I love you until the moon died out and it wouldn't be enough." But somewhere in his head, past the love and adoration, a switch clicked on, reminding him of the last fulfillment of his plan.
The police don't know. And they won't know.

I am better. Ascendant. Czar-like.

An emperor.