Fan Fiction ❯ Phantom ❯ Moonlight at Midnight ( Chapter 8 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

An hour later, and many braincells effectively wasted, he was still engrossed in his game, his left thumb manuvering the joystick as his right assaulted the square button fending off the attacks of three samurai simultaneously. Twilight had drifted into darkness but he hadn't bothered to turn on the lights since the glow of the tv lit up most of his room. He grinned and wrenched the joystick to the left and spun it watching the ninja girl on the screen perform her secret attack that sent all three samurai screaming to their graves.

"Take that bitch!!" he howled with a laugh. The snap made him jump and he punched the pause button looking at his door wondering what the was. It took him a second to realise it was the front door closeing. So they'd finally made it home, he thought. "Do you guys need help with the groceries?" he called dropping his controller and rising with a stretch. Silence. Blinking he walked to his door and opened it looking down the hallway. "Mom? Dad? Is that you?" More silence. Anxiety crashed down around him like a leaden weight and settled in the pit of his stomach. The living room was dark, if it were his parents the lights would be on and they'd have answered. Stepping back slowly he picked up his favorite katana and unsheathed the blade lifting it into a guard position and stepping into the hallway slowly. His sock covered feet made only a soft rushing sound as he moved down the hallway in a half crouch, his eyes moving carefully from shadow to shadow. Reaching the living room he peered around the corner. The boxes were gone and everything seemed in it's place, there were few places for an intruder to hide. The hallway leading to the kitchen was dark and Yukishiro shivered disliking the notion of going into that darkness. The black hallway resembled the mouth of a hungry cave just waiting to devour...... He shook his head. That was stupid, childish fears. It was a hallway. Ok, it was a dark hallway. Ok, it was a very dark hallway that no sane individual would enter but it was his duty to make sure their home was intruder free. Drawing himself up he moved cautiously across the living room navigating between the couch and coffee table carefully and peering into the dark hallway. He could make out the door leading to the kitchen and the opposite one leading to the study but the rest was inky blackness. Moving slowly to the hallway door he crouched and peered down the length of the hall seeing noone. All was quiet. Standing slowly he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "yukishiro you are paranoid..." he muttered turning to go back to his game. Behind him the light in the kitchen suddenly flicked on. He froze turning slowly to look over his shoulder at the glow coming from under the crack in the door. Swallowing he lifted the katana and carefully moved down the hallway to the kitchen door. Ok, he told himself. This is what you took all those classes for. You can handle one lousy intruder. Lifting the blade he stepped forward and reached for the door when the light went out. Yukishiro froze expecting the door to fly open and he to be faced with a huge sumo type man who would rip his skinny self to peices. Instead there was silence, and then the light clicked back on.

Confused Yukishiro stepped forward and wrenched the kitchen door open. The kitchen was completely devoid of human occupation besides himself, although the overhead light was burning. Stepping further into the kitchen he looked around and saw noone, no place for anyone to hide that fast. Maybe it's an electrical malfunction, he reasoned stepping back and flicking the light off. Lowering the sword he shook his head and turned to leave the kitchen, walking straight into the chest of a man much taller than himself. All thoughts of battle ettiquette, proper stances, attack methods, and defense drained from his mind as he screamed loudly the katana clattering to the floor as he leapt backwards. A pair of hands caught his arms in a vicelike grip and he yelped kicking at the man, but the kicks seemed to have no effect on him. He continued to thrash for a full minute before he realised nothing was happening, he wasn't being killed, or raped, or harmed in any way, he was simply being held by the man who had appeared out of nowhere.

Opening one eye he blinked, his eyes going wide as he stared up into a very familiar visage. The angular face, the narrow golden eyes and the wolf like teeth clamped around a cigarette. The same man he'd seen that night in the dojo! Yukishiro had gone rigidly still and now his thoughts, beginning to regroup into some semblance of sanity, took in the old police uniform the man wore, as well as the white gloves that covered his hands, hands that were clenched around his own arms holding him immobile. The silence was thick and seemed to last an eternity as they waged a war of eyes trying to stare each other down. The stranger was winning, he admitted to himself, the mans eyes alone were intimidating. A thin stream of smoke traveled from the end of his cigarette and drifted above their heads. The absurd thought that his mother would be furious at the man for smoking in her house crossed his dazzled brain. He jerked backwards again attempting to free himself to no avail. Finally the silence was too much.

"who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse and strained with fear and apprehension. The man studied him cooly, shifting the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. Slowly the hands clasping his arms loosened and released as he stood up straight plucking the cigarette from his lips and blowing a steady stream of gray smoke at the ceiling. The air was heavy with the stench of smoke and Yukishiro coughed watching him.

"I could ask you the same." the man replied in the deep, edged voice he remembered from the dojo the week before. 'I though it would be obvious by now', the voice had said. This man, he corrected himself, had said. Whay should be obvious? That's what he wanted to know. Wait a second, this was their house, why was this guy acting like he belonged here and they didn't. Yukishiro drew himself up.

"My name is Takashi Yukishiro and this is my home. Now who are you and what are you doing here? If you're here to rob us I'm afraid you'll be disappointed we don't keep valueables in the house. If you're here to...." He swallows noticing the long katana at the man's left side."..to kill us then you're going to have a fight on your hands, mister." he concluded with what he hoped was a brave glare. Apparently it was more amusing than brave because the tall man laughed flicking the ashes from his cigarette on the floor. Yukishiro growled and ran for the broom in the corner. "Hey don't do that! My mother works hard to keep these floors clean!" He grumbled and swept up the ashes. "Are you going to tell me who you are or what?!" he demanded stooping and gathering the ashes into the ashtray. He froze as the hands that had been holding him prisoner minutes before snaked around him again, this time the gloved hands slid down his arms before the arms wrapped around him, pressing the man's hands to his belly and chest. Yukishiro gasped in surprise the broom and dustpan clattering to the floor as he was yanked backwards against the man's chest. His breathing was ragged and nervous as he stood pressed against the stranger, the man's hand on his chest bunching up his t shirt while the other hand slid under the fabric rubbing his belly in slow circles. He should be outraged! He should be furious! He should be screaming for help! But for some reason he could do none of these things, he could only stand and stare straight ahead. He felt breath on his ear and jerked slightly his head tilting to the side unwittingly giving access to the predator behind him. The breath on his ear traveled down his throat and he made a strangled sound as the man's tongue retraced the path along the slope of his neck to his ear before devling into the recess making Yukishiro whimper despite himself.

"stop..............stop it............." he managed to croak out. The man behind him laughed softly against his ear. "saitou......" Came the hoarse whisper, cool air blowing over dampened flesh making him shiver. "saitou hajime........i live here to yukishiro, and i've been watching you.......wanting you.....for a while now...." he said. Yukishiro squirmed trying to get loose. Slowly the hands that held him released their hold and he spun to face the man who had vanished. Gasping he looked around wildly and ran into the hallway but the golden eyed man was gone.

"yukishiro...." the man named Saitou's voice reached him but it seemed to come from far far away."....yukishiro...........do you sleep with the light on?" the voice asked before it died away into laughter fading from his ears. Yukishiro shivered and hugged himself wondering what the hell just happened. He'd been felt up in his kitchen by a strange man, he'd not put up any kind of struggle. What the hell is wrong with me?! He growled as he snatched his sword off the floor walking back through the living room. Nice. He hadn't won against the intruder, and now he was left with a horrible feeling of guilt for not stopping the man who had entered their home and he had a raging hard on to boot. This just wasn't his day.........week.............month.........ARGH...millinium...he thought as he shut the door behind him.

Sheatheing the blade he set it back with the others and laid down on his bed staring at the ceiling. I don't believe in ghosts, he thought. I don't. What other explanation is there? I don't believe in ghosts, he chided himself. Sliding his hand into his pants he sought the relife he craved. From the darkened shadows of his room a pair of golden eyes watched the boy hungrily devouring the whimpers and moans that rode on the electrified current in the room. With climax came sleep and Yukishiro sank into it head first unaware he wasn't alone. Crossing the room to the boy's bed Saitou looked down at his sleeping form and reached out with a gloved hand lifting the boys sticky fingers. Sucking each finger clean he growled softly as Yukishiro moaned in response to his tongue's caress. The boy rolled onto his side and Saitou reluctantly let his hand go. Stepping back into the shadows, he smiled and disappeared into the darkened corner. Outside moonlight streamed down through the twisted branches of the ancient tree spilling light and shadows over the sleeping form of a seventeen year old who was in more trouble than he knew.