Hellsing Fan Fiction / Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Beyond Mortal Blood ❯ Just Afraid to Lose Control ( Chapter 14 )

And here's your next installment of Beyond Mortal Blood! I'm so sure that everyone was anticipating what is going to happen between Alucard and Aya because of this spat. :x

 

I won't waste your time with notes and stuff, just our general OOC apologies.

 

So read, review, and enjoy!

 

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When Aya dashed outside, Alucard remained on the couched, slumped back carelessly onto the soft fabric. Strong arms rested about the height of the backing as his chin fell to his neck. Sable locks drifted from their spots and became a black shield over the burning red optics. A cool, malicious grin turned the lips upward, legs crossed in a rather feminine fashion. The redhead, mean while, had thrown himself into the back of his house, obscuring his body behind the woods. Whilst he seethed, there came a deathly quietude, slowly wafting through the trees as if it were some inexorable, intangible mist. The moonlight, breaking through the trees, began to take on a hue of diluted crimson, the only sound within the woods being that of silence. Within Aya's mind, a slow, dark chuckle permeated, reaching out to every corner of his brain. The only being such a laugh could belong to was none other than the Vampire, whose presence had become conspicuously absent within the house. His clothes, tosses previously in another room were too gone. It should be noted that the Vampire cared not for what Aya thought of him, as he had so established. No, he was merely concerned with whether Aya would realise who was in control, here. He needed the punk to know, no matter how much defiance was shown and where he would want to run-Alucard, Master of Monsters, was inescapable. And, perhaps there was a bit of sadism included, though such things were not what the Vampire considered himself.

Suddenly, outside the house, wild winds whirled madly, winding about the trees and the assassin himself. The moonbeams became incredibly intense, their colour now an angry red. Leaves detached themselves from trees, finding their places in the upset sky. The sound of the raging wind became high, whistle-pitched, and irritating. Accompanying that sound was an abrupt, ear-splitting crack as the trees were wrenched from their roots, debris flying about the area, narrowly dodging Aya. Above the redhead appeared a dark, glowing pentacle, rotating slowly. And though it was the same colour as the scarlet sky, the hue seemed to carry much more malevolence, the hue so deep it appeared burned into the atmosphere. Again, the laugh, mirthless and full of malice, resonated, though this time throughout the entirety of the now-barren land. Within a split-second, the time it took for the violet mirrors to blink, the punk found himself,
spread-eagle position, chained against a cement wall that had suddenly appeared as if by random. The cuffs were orange with age and rust, the chains sharing the same qualities. The area now seemed absolutely and complete devoid of anything but the wall and the sculpted alabaster, bonded together by the stinging metal.

Across the desolate terrain, a taunting, powerful voice echoed the words, “You're mine, Ran...”

Above Aya's head circled a curious grey cloud, the shadows only intensifying the malevolence, accompanied by the still revolving, bright, fiery insignia that was the testament to the Hellsing family. From the nothingness, an utterly black mist condensed, swirling like the ominous clouds overhead, and from within, scarlet pools pried wide open began to blood. Two of the largest fell in parallel with each other, and a mouth was revealed, full of cruel white teeth, the canines enlarged and pointy, complimented by a long sanguine tongue. The figure soon took shape, the form of which Aya recognised well- Alucard, the No-Life-King. Now, Alucard was still not concerned with whether this entire experience was frightening or simply a joke to the punk, but it was the way that this was performed that made it important to Alucard. The brilliant crimson light and twirling maddened clouds, the howling wind and the mere position the punk was in made it all simply perfect-a display of Alucard's power and Aya's submission. The Vampire, brimming with a wicked, mocking confidence, strode forward, fangs glistening in his psychotic smirk. His eyes burned with a hellish malice, and as he closed the proximity between himself and Aya, he began to pull his clothing apart from the center (though he left it on). It was only his chest that was bare, and close, inches away, from Aya's face.

Oddly, one could observe-as the punk did-a thin scar running down the center of Alucard's otherwise unmarred physique. It was the one mark he could not erase, no matter how tenacious his efforts. It remained from when he had slit himself with his own nails, when Mina Harker had drank his blood and sealed her fate as his (though such endeavors were later abolished). And once again, Alucard removed his glove, nails cut razor-sharp now, and pierced the head of the scar. The digit sliced though cleanly, as it had before, and Alucard's own blood soon began to pour from the wound. The Vampire flinched, whether it be in reminiscence or pain was unknown, and a strong hand curled in the red silk behind Aya's head, forcing it forward. As the soft, ivory lips connected with the rivers of blood and broken skin, Alucard grinned, and gently moaned.

“Drink my blood, Aya Fujimiya...”

 

Though this situation was alarming, it couldn't be taken so far as to say that Aya was frightened - the man just didn't deal in the realm of fear as most people did. Violet eyes turned up at Alucard with utter hatred, that which had not been there any time before when he'd looked at the man. Perhaps only Reiji Takatori had seen such loathing from the redhead, and he was dead to boot. Oh, if Alucard wasn't immortal Aya would kill him. That was a futile train of thought, and he quickly abandoned it, only to be thinking along the same lines again as his lips touched the crimson essence. This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. Why had he ever let himself get involved with a Vampire? Hadn't he read so many horror books in his youth to warn him against this very thing? But at the time, hadn't he thought they weren't real?

The assassin struggled against the hand holding his head in place, trying fruitlessly to pull away. Alucard had even had the gall to call him by his real name, without understanding a thing about the past that made Ran who he was. He knew the present that made Aya what he was, but that's as far as the knowledge went because Aya didn't go around spilling his past out to just
anybody. As a matter of fact, very few knew about his past at all that hadn't known him then. The violet gaze snapped shut as he held his lips closed. He refused to drink the Vampire's blood. He wouldn't do...

Ran... a soft voice probed at the farthest reaches of his mind. Please don't give him more reasons to hurt you.

Aya-Chan, always the voice of reason in the back of his head - literally so. And it was because of that quiet plea that he allowed himself to submit, lips parting ever-so-slightly as he let the thick liquid slip into his mouth, and then consequently down his throat. Pause. Why did he feel like he'd seen this happen somewhere before? Like he'd read it somewhere, or seen it on television? The thought drifted away from him as he pressed his lips closed again, angry amethyst eyes opening to burn up at the Vampire again.

 

Grinning down with a sadistic triumph in his gaze, Alucard chuckled lowly in his throat. The Vampire had succeeded in the thing he had desired-Aya had swallowed his blood-even if it were a small amount-and once and for all they were entwined until Alucard wished it to be no more. No longer was it spoken in word, now it was sealed in blood that ran in both their veins, a sort-of curse placed on the young man, one that was indeed tangible if the time could ever arise. The Vampire pressed the punk's face harder into his chest, smearing blood on the alabaster lips and chin, forcing the taste into the redhead's mouth whether he willed it to be or not. And the raging winds rose as, after moments of this passed, Alucard stepped back, sable locks and red trench coat whipped about wildly as he slowly re-buttoned his clothes. A strong hand reached out, gripping the bloodied chin and forcing it back, putting Aya's countenance in-line with his own. Alucard pursed his lips-crimson eyes shimmering with wicked glee-and cackled, repeating a phrase spoken earlier:

“Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my kin...”

Only now, the words seemed to hold so much more significance, as they were dark, full of promised sin, so much so that they nearly seemed thickened to the density of blood. They dripped from his lips, snaking into the assassin's ears and flowing across the empty field. Alucard was assured, this time, that his property would not be stolen, as it had no other home, it had no other will to return to. It had no one to rescue it that could possibly succeed, as Alucard was now ultimately powerful. Never again would a human destroy him as Van Hellsing had, never again would he fall so pathetically before the feet of a mortal, even when everything was lost... Though, he was also assured that he could not lose everything this time-he had Integra. He worked for the ones who had conquered him so long ago. And though he tried to escape, he met his loss once more at the hands of the Hellsing family, the ones who only held the power to destroy him.

Alucard began to upturn a raging grudge within him, against a situation that he was normally quite satisfied with-except at this moment, where his mind swarmed with thoughts of days long set. Once, he had been Count Vlad Dracula, prince of the Wallachs, with more power in both politics and body than he had ever achieved before (until his status now, but it was not important), he, who once had control of three beautiful draculinas, crueler than Seras could ever be... until they too, were murdered by Abraham Van Hellsing. A fury that was not often experienced by Alucard boiled with him, and it reflected within his eyes, flames licking at the glimmering rubies. His train of thought had gone too far, and he gazed upon Aya, the insolent bastard that he was, refusing to swallow anymore of his blood, denying fault... the resentment in his eyes did Alucard no bother, but it was the reason why he held such resentment. It was not ever the Vampire had ever tried to turn a man such as Aya under his grasp-they had always been
women, as such so much capable of buckling beneath him. No, this young man would do no such thing, and Alucard felt a swell of violence rise. From underneath the flaps of his coat he removed Joshua, the gleaming silver gun so long it was forced against Aya's bare chest, placed off to the side where it nearly slipped into the empty space where his chest ended.

“I killed Sakura with this,” Alucard informed him, smiling cruelly, “And I may not be able to kill you... but I can cause you a hell of a lot of pain, punk. Now scream.”

With that, he pulled the trigger, still grinning, blowing a harsh bullet straight through the young man and into the wall, blood coating and spilling from the area.

 

Violet eyes looked up at Alucard, deeply intense and burning with insubordination.

"No," he answered, bitingly. Pain shuddered through his body, and though he winced against it he did not utter out any cry to prove that he may indeed be hurting. He refused to give the Vampire that kind of satisfaction. The mirrors turned down to the hole now gleaming ugly upon the alabaster. "Just one more bullet to add to the count," he muttered, gaze drifting to the healing wounds Crawford had riddled into him. An entire magazine worth of bullets, what was one more to add to it? He'd heal.

"I'm not going to be whatever you want me to be," the redhead commented, looking back to Alucard. "Are you afraid of losing control of me that easily? Is that it? Or am I the living proof of some grudge you can't live down?"

His chest heaved with effort, falling as he took another breath. Maybe speaking down to Alucard was the wrong way to go, but he was tired of playing this little game of the Vampire's. Alucard had to know full well that Aya wasn't planning on going anywhere, no matter how he threatened. He might leave, but he'd be back only to prove a point that he didn't run away from his own decisions. And if Alucard didn't know that, perhaps the redhead needed to fill him in with such a little lesson on Fujimiya determination. Even Aya-Chan, in all her gentle affections, proved every bit as determined as her older brother though circumstances differ.

"Or is it just that you subsist on living prey? Are you that rapacious?"

 

Alucard felt his skin burn, crying out to dispose of such a ignorant beast. The violet mirrors were begging to be smashed and the alabaster just dying to be scathed even more than it had before. He wanted to see the young man's throat slit, blood staining that gorgeous sculpture, the eyes hung back in dead repose-the heart-that-no-longer-beat ached to take the punk, rip him from the chains and destroy his very skull and drive the brains deep into the ground. The finger on the trigger trembled in anticipation, but the Vampire abstained from all such things. Instead, he merely turned to the punk, eyes raging with a deeply unseating fire, something only seen in the darkest pits of hell, face contorted in a fierce infuriation. His hand, sharp nails decorating the digits, squeezed the young man's neck tightly, edges of the nails threatening to pierce the skin.

“You little shit-you know nothing of my life or what I have been through-you may believe you have your own little problems, punk, but trust me, in all my years I have seen far, far more and lost, far, far more than you can ever hope to imagine. You are one of the most self-centered, immature, and absolutely pathetic creatures I've ever had the displeasure to meet,”-and he muttered below the wind `though I still own you'-“and should you ever think to bring up such a thing AGAIN, I will make your life the most painful eternity you've ever experienced.”

And with that, he turned away, the winds now dying down significantly, the trench coat folds rolling gently in the air. The Vampire had recovered from his madness, something Integra would not be pleased to know about-such reckless maneuvers, all due to the carelessness of
himself. Ah well-such mistakes were made. What was a little blood shed but to perk him up, anyway? The clouds overhead began to part, giving way to the night time and silver moon once more, the revolving insignia slowly fading from sight, leaving a glowing burn where it once had been. He did not allow shame to overcome him, as there was no need. Yes, it was not often such things happened, he told himself, and it was fortunate the release was performed here and not in front of Integra, and that he had the sense enough to keep him under control. If such things had not occurred, then surely he would have found himself tied up against the walls of the Hellsing dungeon once more.

Alucard had done wrong, but it would not happen again, and he would remind himself that to show the punk that he was under the Vampire's control, the blood ritual was all that was required. It was evident Aya did not respond to pain-as such, that method should be dropped no matter how enjoyable. The cuffs about Aya's wrists loosened, and eventually, melted away altogether, dropping the young man harshly to the ground. The wall fell away, the entire illusion fading before their eyes, trees descending from the sky and fields erecting houses from nothingness. The Vampire turned to the young man who was covered in scarlet fluid, and a slight smirk dashed his lips, and he turned away once more, crimson pools staring into the silver orb above.

“Isn't there a report Manx needs...” he muttered absent-mindedly.

 

 

"Mmm," was Aya's only response as he took to his feet.

Aya had gotten enough of a reaction out of Alucard to realize that in his heartless assumptions he had hit on something terribly personal to the Vampire. Surprisingly, he found no mirth in that, and he remained quietly reposed as he turned to walk past the Vampire.

"I know nothing about you," he murmured, dipping his head in agreement. "But just remember that you know nothing about me either," he added, violet eyes not turning to focus upon Alucard as he allowed his stride to carry him back into the house he had called his home since birth.

Upon entering the abode, he walked the familiar path to his room, entering into the bathroom. Violet eyes regarded the shattered mirror quietly, before his eyebrows rose and eyes widened.

"The hell?"

His countenance turned down as his gem-purple gaze witnessed the quickly healing of wounds. All his wounds. Right down to the bruises, scars, and fang marks upon his neck. Ivory fingers drifted over his now unmarred throat. How had it healed...? Youthful years of reading horror-based Vampire novels reminded him of something of the blood of immortals. Supposedly drinking it had healing properties, or something. Perhaps those novels were written based upon truth throughout the centuries. Whatever the case, his body looked as it did the day before he met Alucard. Marble perfection without a single scratch to steal away from its alabaster essence. He picked a towel from the counter, running it beneath the water once he turned it on. Warmth pressed to the crimson painting his skin, and he ran the cloth over it to clean it away. That accomplished, Aya turned upon his heel, entering into his room to grab a silk black button-up. Slipping it loosely over his shoulders, he felt almost awkward not having fabric pressed against his neck to hide it. He left it unbuttoned and slipped out of his room as nothing more than a shadow. Upon entering the living room, he first stopped in the kitchen to fix himself a quick cup
of coffee, which he carried with him into the far corner of the living room. By the window his computer sat, overlooking the forest behind his home.

 

The Vampire, meanwhile, took his time returning back indoors, remaining outside to gaze at the silver orb overhead. He felt that a good deal of pondering was in order. The first thing his mind drifted to was that he had killed Sakura, which was the catalyst for this entire ordeal. Though it was not the most important thing to him, if important at all. Alucard had no remorse in any form or fashion for what he had done, as he enjoyed it and could not possibly ask forgiveness for a moment such as that. It was the reason he had killed her that tugged at him, and he doubted, if only for a short time, that what he had done was truly for the good of the mission. Had he deceived himself so readily at the hands of his own selfish desires to have no interference with Aya? Or truly, was it a reason that would be supported by Integra-disposing of all hindrances to the job? The Vampire decided that it was a bit of both, and while disproved of it, did not find regret within the fact.

Indeed, the only thing that Alucard had ever regretted in his entire life was the night he and Mina had spent so intimately, when she had drank his blood, when they were bonded for quite awhile-at least, that's what he had planned. No, the night had been interrupted by the meddling men within her life, and he had fled in fear of their ability to destroy him, as such they had (if only he had all the power he possessed now!). And his only regret was not returning to her after said night, as possibly, if he had not been so fearful-another odd thing, as such fear was unbeknownst and upsetting to him-of the hatred within her eyes, just perhaps, things may have ended a bit differently. Alucard hadn't thought of that night in such a time, or, maybe the correct way to phrase it was, since he had met Aya, that one time had been returning to his mind a bit more than usual. It confused him-he didn't like it, as such times back then were when he was vulnerable, when he had felt something quite powerful for any person since being turned, and due to it being regretful, he simply shrugged it off, though didn't block it out. It had in fact happened, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to change such a fact.

Frighteningly, he found himself experiencing some tidbit of the emotions he had once held about Mina-characterized and testified by Sakura's murder-for Aya. Alucard simply did not desire that type of weakness again, even if such weakness came without fear due to his immense amount of power. But, the Vampire knew that denying such feelings, pushing them away and refusing to acknowledge them would only end in disaster as well, and as such, they should certainly be recognized if he did not embrace them. Alucard perhaps was not at such a step yet. As such, that was the moment he realised it fully and totally-yes, he felt something (he frowned as he thought it) for Aya, and it had the capability of becoming powerful. And that was as far as he let it drift-there was no need to extend the thought further, as it was all he could do.

The final thing he considered was the ritual he had just performed with Aya-was it truly necessary? At least, blowing the hole in Aya's side was not, he was not dissatisfied with the blood-exchange whatsoever. Though... Alucard also did not regret blowing said hole in Aya's side-for one reason, he knew it would heal as Aya had just swallowed his blood, and the second was that he had enjoyed it his sick way. He recognized Aya's resentment and the mere reason for defying his demand was simply that-rebellion. That, Alucard figured, was good enough for him. As such, on that thought, he turned back inside, silhouetted by the moonlight, the beams that echoed silvery sheets across his back-coat flapping gently behind him in the dying wind.

 

Aya remained perched at his computer long after he had sent in his mission report. Two fingers pressed to his head as his elbow rested against the desk, he remained in some deep thought process. And it was one that apparently bothered him, as his eyebrows twitched downward ever so slightly. He forced open his eyes to stare out along the fringe of the trees - the tress that he had earlier seen uprooted and wild. From the inside of his lids disappeared those eyes so like his sister's. Those eyes he'd never see again, for the girl possessing them was now dead. It troubled him deeply that she was gone, and for a long time he considered why. He had met Sakura through a mission - she'd had her kidney taken. A bit of stupidity reminded him that he had leaped into moving traffic because he had thought her to be Aya-Chan. Sakura... Aside from pouring raw emotions out to Aya, had not done anything that was punishable by death - not by the assassin's standards anyway. And as he thought on it longer, he admitted to himself that she had been becoming somewhat of a second sister to him, and therein lie the hurt and distress that he was feeling. It was for that reason that he hated Alucard so much.

Slender digits wrapped around the warm mug, and he brought it to his lips, sipping slowly on the beverage. For what seemed like hours he blankly stared into the computer screen, and then with a hardening resolve he set down the cup, fingers drifting skillfully over the keys. It was a simple search, but then murder such as the one Sakura had experienced got enough publicity to make it easy. A local news site announced that her funeral would be the following day, or - as he glanced to the clock - later on that day. Aya felt that he owed the girl that much, if not more. And if Alucard wasn't happy about it? Fuck him. Aya wasn't in the mood to care what the man thought. Then again, when did he ever truly care about Alucard's opinion?

Booted feet pushed back the chair he sat in, and with solemnity he stood, made his way to the couch and sat down upon the comfy furniture piece. With disgust he flipped the TV off, scattering shadows where the screen had illuminated. Setting the phone back where it was meant to rest, he reached for the book lying next to the receiver. He pulled it to him and then set it against his leg, the spine facing upwards as he leaned down to unbuckle his heeled boots. The violet eyes glanced curiously to the book, to find what he would be reading. Taken aback, he looked again, more closely this time. With the title of the book pointed in the other direction, the violet eyes caught upon it backwards and oddly it looked as if it spelled 'alucarD', only upside down of course. With the shoes off, his hand apprehended the book, and he turned the cover to face him. 'alucarD' was not the book's title, but instead Dracula. But as he gazed at it, he found it rather peculiar that the name... Truth perhaps had never dawned so violently on someone as this did Aya, and he laid down upon the couch, opening the book now with a certain dedication. It made perfect sense. Well, in some sort of way it did. A book he'd read countless times in his youth, and even now in his adult years, the book Aya had explained in detail to his demanding sister, was based on the man that had fucked his brains out on five different occasions. That was just wonderful. Just absolutely wonderful. Not just anybody could boast that they were getting screwed silly by one of their favorite book characters - not that he was going to brag about such a thing or even bring it up, it was merely the concept of it. And he had loved Dracula when he was young. Funny how now he hated him.

A lot.

 

The Vampire turned himself indoors, nearly reluctantly, but the dawn was rising as told by the sinking moon. And wasn't the Vampire the least bit tired? He had remained awake for quite a bit now, and by glancing at the clock he was assured that at this hour Integra would be awake-he figured it be required that he call her, as it was likely he wouldn't be returning to Hellsing for a
bit. At this thought, he felt a longing for his coffin, wishing that he had brought it along as he had on the trip to South America... but it was simply not a requirement. His steps languid, Alucard ghosted through the house, mouth set in a firm line, hat pulled down ever-so-slightly. These steps carried him to the living room, seeing the young man resting upon the couch, book in hand. Violet eyes regarded the novel intently, and the Vampire curiously cocked his head at the sight. Silence pervaded the room as he entered totally and completely, and as he caught sight of the book's title he was taken a bit aback.

The smooth, silken voice merely breathed with a bit of disgust, “Oh, you're reading that.”

Emphasis was placed on the final word, as Alucard was a trifle more than surprised to see the assassin so involved with a near biography of the times he had just been reminiscing about. Displeasure was riled at the thought of the inaccuracy of the description of he and Mina's relationship, however. The source, Jonathan, was no where near accurate due to his biased feelings toward Alucard. The Vampire deserved much more credit than was ever allowed him-even if he were still truly a monster. It was debatable whether Mina recognized him as such once branded with the mark of the Host, yet it seemed almost a certainty when expressed in that book. The woman had never written down her feelings of that night, or of her relationship with Alucard-Dracula.

It was liable that her diary would be explored later, and she had known it-he had always admired that sharpness about her. Her loveliness was still able to be recalled by him, the large, keen eyes, and the soft brown locks... the demure, yet decisive features... The side of his lip twitched when he recalled the many times they had been together-could it be called making love? He didn't know. Still, just as everything during that time, he had lost her. Crimson pools surveyed the young man steadily, and for some reason, he found himself chuckling softly as his gaze was averted. It simply would not happen again.

 

Aya glanced up from his reading, the steady amethyst gems unreadable as he looked to Alucard.

"I am," he replied, the comment nonchalant as he turned his gaze back to the page he was currently on. He'd read the book so many times, and still he did not grow bored of it. And this time reading it, he had a purpose aside from merely being entertained.

"Imagine my surprise," he commented, ivory countenance hidden by the book, "when I realized who this book referred to."

But then, he hadn't really been all to surprised. As mentioned, it made perfect sense. For the sake of all things living, the man worked for an organization called Hellsing. Wasn't that proof enough? Well, it was one piece of a very small puzzle to put together, and he'd been far too busy as of late to make connections between an organization and a book most said was fictional. No, what still bothered him was how he was intimate with the character in that novel... And tortured by the character in that novel. Couldn't forget that one.

"You said I knew nothing of what you've been through," Aya added, feeling rather at peace as he laid there. "If this book is at all accurate, then I know more than you give me credit for."

A finger turned the page, the eyes scanning over it thoroughly. And if the book was accurate? Then he knew more about Alucard than the Vampire knew about him. That thought held promise, and he liked the idea. Then again, that's what happens when you let people go around writing biographies - everyone learns about your life. Aya at least kept his life a relative secret from those who had no business meddling in it. And maybe he had no business getting into
Alucard's, but it was a biography - free game in his mind set. It was published to the masses, so why shouldn't he be allowed to take advantage of the information it offered? An alabaster thumb ran over the page, weathered and worn from countless reads. It certainly looked as if the book had received a fair amount of attention through the years Aya had owned it.

Surprisingly, beyond the fact that the assassin was fond of the novel, the book held a greater meaning to Aya. Not only was it in essence a story of Alucard's past, but it was the last book he had ever discussed with his dear sister. He'd told her Vampires didn't exist then, but how utterly wrong he'd been, and she knew it too. With her infinite sight through the redhead's eyes, she knew exactly how real the Undead were. For a moment he brought the paperback away from his face, purple mirrors looking back to Alucard. He set the open volume against his chest, hand still resting on the spine as though he would pick it up to continue reading.

 

A snort of entertainment came from the Vampire-the thought of the book being incredibly accurate was laughable. Though, still, the events that were described were quite truthful, painfully so, and it irked Alucard only a little that Aya was in the position that he was now. Surely the redhead would know of what had happened, but there would never be any mention of the Vampire's relationship with Mina, not even an insinuation that perhaps malice was not all they had shared. Indeed, there had been a realistic capturing of who Dracula had been-cruel, hellish, powerful, but still full of fear and uncertainty. Part of this was attributed to the appearance of Mina, and the emotions that accompanied such happenings, but another slice of it was the simple fact that Dracula was imperfect. He was powerful, but not as Alucard was-and therein lied his weakness. It had been easy for Van Helsing to conquer him because he simply was not trained to utter perfection, not studied to his worth. Alucard had been vincible in those times, though believed otherwise. Possibly, it would be foolish to take belief such a thought once more, but his head had been severed many a time and nearly destroyed more than once. Recalling the battle with Incognito, he had been utterly mutilated, though it was fortunate that such a battle was fought in a castle coated in centuries of bloodbath.

The sheer amount of death that remained in the building's history was enough to revive him, at which point he brought out his true strength. He quickly snapped himself back to reality and twisted slightly in Aya's direction, the crimson eyes half-lidded in something close to reminiscence or amusement.

“You know somethings,” the Vampire informed him, voice still slippery satin, “but only I know the entire story. Besides, it is such a small excerpt of all my many...” he paused, and chuckled, lips curled upwards, “many years. Though, it is true. You now know more about myself than I do you.” His body turned completely, the shafts of moonlight the filtered through the window fighting against him.

“That's not fair-why don't you tell me something?” he suggested, and now his eyes held something of a playful glee, knowing that if anything the response would be little. But even a small amount of emotion was something that the Vampire loved to elicit from the punk. His cheeks twitched as his smile grew wider, canines gleaming.

 

"Fair?" Aya murmured, his voice almost sarcastic as he raised the question. Hadn't Alucard pretty much told him that his past was nothing compared to the Vampire's? Why should he tell the man anything after he said something such as that? "You're the one who let a book get published about you, not me." He lifted the novel once again to his face, eyes turning their attentions to the words printed across the pages.

"You learned enough about me when I stupidly got drunk. Don't ask for more."

Perhaps the Vampire hadn't learned about Aya's past, but he'd gotten to see the redhead in a raw state of emotion, and he'd even let it slipped that he liked the man - and lying to cover that up had failed successfully.

Aya preferred it that most didn't know what had gone on in his life. It's not that he enjoyed keeping people guessing and stumped, he just found it easier when people were in the dark. The weaknesses he possessed, he could hide them when no one knew the Fujimiya Ran that had lived before the assassin Aya had surfaced.

"You know more about me than most," Aya stated after long intervals of silence, "excluding my sister."

No, Aya-Chan was the only person that held all of the information of Aya's life - even things she hadn't known before their blood exchange. She, however, might never reveal such things knowing that her brother wouldn't want her to.

And he'd lived an okay life before Takatori had come along to ruin it. His family had been happy, his sister blossoming into a beautiful young woman. And he... As he allowed the memory to fill him, he'd been in love at the time. Ah, but he had driven that person away with the brutal front of his hatred. The death of his parents, and the loss of his sister, had driven from him any uplifting emotions to replace them with anger, despair, untethered animosity. He shrugged away the thoughts, as they were a bother to his already puzzled mind. Alucard was enough to handle without thinking of past relationships that he'd been sickeningly happy in. And as his contemplation turned half to Alucard, the other concentrated upon the page, he realized he still felt coldly towards the man.

Yes, the Vampire had lived far longer than he did, but that gave the man no right to undermine the crisis that had occurred in his life. Losing Aya-Chan, even above his the loss of his parents, had been the worst thing to happen to him. He'd rather endure an eternity of pain and torture than to see her in that coma, would have taken that choice if it had been given him. For Aya-Chan was the singular most important thing to the redhead. Everything and everyone paled in comparison to her - including Alucard. Joining Kritiker, he had bluntly informed Persia and Manx that nothing would get in his way of his revenge. Violet eyes fell shut, and he calmed the tempest in his mind, sighing lightly. Everything, in the end, came back to her.

 

The Vampire's smile merely widened. “Perhaps,” he chuckled, and turned away, oddly content. Perhaps Aya was unreachable-for now. Alucard still had little knowledge of what had turned Aya into what he was today, who he had been when Ran was not just a mere memory-in fact, he had absolutely no knowledge of such events. Though it didn't bother him-perhaps one day, he would know, and he of course would want such a day to occur. The redhead was so intriguing-he couldn't possibly abandon efforts. Besides, he and Aya had all the time in the world to come to such a point, and he was assured that the redhead was aware that they were going to be in each other's company for a good long while. Ah, eternity-what possibilities it held. It aroused a broader grin from Alucard, who's ever-lively curiosity was slowly getting the better of him. True, Aya had mentioned that he held some type of affection for the Vampire whilst drunk, and it was this sort of thing that was causing the questions to form in his mind. It wasn't out of concern for the feelings, but merely need to know, a raw lust to understand.

He wasn't insecure, but interested-driving him to inquire, “Why do you like me, punk?”

Alucard's body had now turned once more, and he slowly strode toward the young man, grinning, though what emotion was expressed was unknown. It was the type of grin that held
mischief within it, though such was not intended, cocky and mocking, a mix of things that made the Vampire who he was. He didn't expect an answer from Aya, honestly. Common sense informed him that the redhead wouldn't be likely reveal such thoughts, as he had known he had slipped up even whilst drunk. Divulging such sentiments such as why he felt the way he did towards Alucard would be frighteningly out of character for him, or, at least, such Alucard had gathered. He drew himself closer to the assassin, until, his footsteps had carried him so close he now towered over the redhead and that book. Slowly, he fell forward, head cocked slightly to the side.

“What have I done to draw such feelings from you?” he asked quietly, another expected rhetorical question.

Their countenances were dangerously close, and the Vampire debated an activity normally taken part in when such circumstances, but didn't-another perhaps-perhaps it would not be the best time to continue their interrupted endeavors. He wasn't sure if he... felt like it.

 

Violet eyes turned up from the reading, narrowed and cold.

"I hate you," Aya answered, as calmly as if he was holding a normal conversation.

For at the moment, he didn't much care for Alucard. The man had shot him, forced him beyond his limit of submission, and probed into a past he did not know when he had called him Ran. Furthermore, Alucard had killed a girl much like a second sister to him - though not nearly as important as the first, beaten him, and held no remorse for anything he had done. Aya was certainly not fond of the being towering over him, of that there was no question. It was perhaps a good thing that Alucard was not in the mood for intimacies, for likely the redhead wouldn't comply or answer the advances on the basis that he was furious. Or maybe he would just because his body did not seem to like denying the man what he desired.

The gaze drifted back to its previous engagement. He had said all he needed to, there was no use speak further about his current resentment towards the Vampire. For the mixture of emotions raging within him, Aya had managed to compact it all into a quite simple sentence. With one final look at the novel, he flipped it shut, turning the emotionless gaze to the window and then to the clock. Sakura's funeral would be held at eight, roughly three hours from the current time. It might be best to sleep the time away until it started, but he didn't feel as if he wanted to sleep - a result, no doubt, of the coffee he had consumed. There was still the task of eating something, and he was sure to take a shower before leaving the house.

There was no need to check if he had any clean turtlenecks, for the slender ivory neck was soft and beautiful, entirely unmarred (and he wasn't so sure he wanted Alucard to have his way with it again). Almost consciously, Aya's hands set the book aside and his fingers moved to the shirt he wore, buttoning it so that the carved alabaster chest would not glimmer in the early morning light. Now he need only get up, but with Alucard in close proximity and the memory's of what happened when he generally tried to walk away from the Vampire, he remained sprawled lazily upon the couch, arms folded across his abdomen. Maybe - the thought was too hopeful - maybe Alucard would just walk away and leave him alone for now.

 

The Vampire pulled away, and laughed, something of a hearty, good-natured laugh, but such things were impossible and there was a noticeable undertone of wickedness within it. Alucard spun around, walking away once more, smiling, short rolls of laughter emitted. Confidence exuded from him-he seemed to believe, for that one moment, he could do no wrong. An odd change of mood, but it was not often that Alucard remained in such depressed states. It
was simply pointless, life was too long to be upset, or angry, or broody for an elongated period of time, when he could be enjoying his immortality. The same belief, he thought, Aya should take part in, but knew that such things were probably not in the cards as of the moment. The young man was still, well, young, and it was improbable that such a lesson would be learned so early. Or, at least, after such a tragedy-not that Alucard knew of those things. Moments passed, and he considered that maybe, just maybe, Aya's sour mood at the moment could be attributed to the fact that Alucard had not only murdered a person he apparently “cared about,” but had taken submission to a level that Aya had not exactly desired, and finally, blown a hole in his side.

The Vampire did not regret such things, but did take it into his mind, and turn the thought over for a little. Could it be possible that such forms of control were an outlet for some underlying insecurity? Was it even possible that Alucard had such thoughts at an age? He loved himself, surely, and it was not from a self-image that the insecurity would stem from. Perhaps it was, a bit of precaution against having the entire “Mina” episode occur once more-why else, other than bloodlust a plethora of other things that factored into being of the Undead, he feel the utter need to murder Sakura after Aya had blatantly pledged submission to him? Maybe that was all it was-being a Vampire-but it could be, just maybe, that whenever Alucard thought of his feelings for Aya, he was rudely reminded of the fire in Mina's gaze, the one that had spelled such hatred for him? Of course, he had seen such a look before, but never in the eyes of one he... well, loved, maybe. Love seemed such a far-fetched word to use, being that he was a bloodthirsty beast, but he was still not cold. Just cruel and disgusting (which was not something that was a problem to him). Still, the possibility was there. The probability and the chance. Maybe that one time, he had taken it too far-not something he ever, hardly ever considered. He snorted-whatever. The facts were there, and he knew the truth. There was no need to deny he was falling victim to another one of these situations-Bah. Other things needed to be tended to. It was around five o'clock in Japan, most likely still late in England, but as he had thought before Integra was most likely still awake.

“Where's your phone?” he queried.

 

With Alucard's distance, Aya took the time to sit up and pull himself off the couch. Sitting the book back upon the table, his hand shifted to the phone as the Vampire mentioned it. He tossed it at his guest, and then stepped into the kitchen. The issue of food would be handled first. Leaning into the refrigerator, the redhead selected what he was going to make for himself. A bit annoyed, Aya swept away the vegetables he had been cutting earlier (when he'd been distracted by the man he currently detested). A lengthy sigh fell from his lips as he prepared the food - for once an actual meal that consisted of more than rice. And only when he was sure the food could go unwatched did he exit the kitchen.

Bare feet padded soundlessly upon the floor as he ventured through the living room, further into the house as he sought out a room he mostly avoided for obvious reasons. He paused. His hand touched the door frame gently, before he stepped into the girlishly decorated space. The essence of his sister still reigned heavily upon the room, and he could swear through the years she'd been absent that her scent still remained hanging in the air. A beautiful fragrance of lavender and a hint of roses - as she had liked. Up until she had been moved to Kritiker, it had been Aya's ritual to bring flowers to the hospital. The room always smelt of the blossoms she had so adored while awake. It had been Aya's way of bringing her somewhat back to life, laying quiet upon that uncomfortable bed - always looking too peaceful without that vivacious charm she had about her. Aya-Chan was one of those individuals that brought out the best in most people, and
unhappiness was immediately dispelled within her presence, as her lively spirit was enough to frighten off any pessimistic thoughts. It was only one of the things Aya missed about her lack of wakefulness. Were she awake, he would be unable to maintain the sour moods he directed at Alucard, the brooding thoughts that set him constantly into silence.

Two ivory digits slid over a picture resting upon the dresser. Within the frame, and old photograph gleamed through the glass - it had been taken when they were both much younger, with the girl curled comfortably into his lap, having fallen asleep while the boy read to her. The expression on his face was almost one of smiling reminiscence, but the lips did not drift up to complete the picture (and so it was only a peaceful remembrance). The assassin turned from the picture, reaching out to lift a cross from the vanity. A simple silver ornament, it was the symbol of Weiss. The white cross. Or, rather, the outline of a cross - as the inside was absent, so that the crucifix resembled a stencil. Aya worked at the chain, unclasping it. He placed it about his neck before linking the necklace again. It weighed heavy upon his chest only because the mere idea of it held his profession in it, and as such he'd put it in her room as a reminder of his revenge when he happened to pass by the door. Revenge was done now, the cross no longer needed to stay in the room. Even with his task settled, he seemed reluctant to part from Aya-Chan's quarters - as he did not come often and when he did he savored it for as long as he could.

Meanwhile, Alucard was busy figuring out the international extension to England, and when finally remembering the correct numbers, the ring tone echoed through the room, previously thick with silence. It only took a few rings for the phone to be answered, Integra's accent crisp even through the distorted ways of a telephone line.

“Yes?” she asked, knowing the caller.

“Hello, my Master,” Alucard purred into the receiver.

On the end of the line, Integra's cheeks glowed a bright pink if only for a moment, before she asked coldly, “What is it, Alucard?”

The Vampire laughed, teasing her, “There are FREAKs in Japan... an entire slew of them, in fact. I'm sure, within the day, we'll receive clear orders to search and destroy. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Integra? Do you want to see the massacre on TV?” The woman shuddered slightly, incredibly flustered at the sensuality of Alucard's voice.

“Bloody idiot! Just do your job!” she spat angrily, throwing the phone down on the hook.

At the violent click, the Vampire chuckled, hanging his own end up and smiling. The relationship he shared with Integra was something out of the ordinary, certainly. Some instances, he was incredibly respectful and watchful of her-he was protective at all times. Then there were the points in time where he would toy at her emotions relentlessly-it was nearly common knowledge there was sexual tension between them due to his playful manner. He knew, somewhere within her being, there was desire for him-then again, it was difficult for most women to resist the allure of a Vampire... the mystery, the power, the sensuality... In any case, Alucard acted on it, knowing it frustrated her, seeing how it would be highly unlikely they would ever take part in any actions of that category.

Integra truly never much appreciated it, as he had been teasing her for the now, what, sixteen, seventeen years he had been freed? She was in her mid-thirties now, though didn't appear a bit over twenty. Damn Hellsing family-they all seemed forever youthful, so like the ones they destroyed. Alucard smiled-how he loved life, even with Aya who only made it difficult for him-at least, now it did. When they fucked, all they were receiving was pleasure, but... they weren't fucking at the moment, now, were they? Turning towards the window slightly, it was
obvious to him that the sun was to rise within the hour, and as such, felt as if he should rest in some dark room-where that would be, he wouldn't know. Surely he'd find somewhere.

Alucard need only ask Aya for a place to rest, and the redhead would find a suitable room. Speaking of the assassin, he was just returning to the living room, and then back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on what he was going to consume. It appeared that the single-mindedness Aya used on missions really did carry over into everything that he did. From caring for his sister, to the act of sex, and even simple things like cooking a meal. Not as though one could complain about it - the gist of such a mindset was that Aya devoted his entirety to whatever he was doing (a praise-worthy attribute in the bedroom). It was no wonder that he was scolded for being too serious.

The tantalizing smell of food kept Aya hovering by the plate, and he remained lingering by it for several moments before he stepped towards the doorway leading into the wide open space of the main room of the house. The purple abysses cast about the living room, before resting quietly upon the Vampire therein. There was nothing he had to say to Alucard, nothing he wanted to say to break the silence permeating the house in the very early dawn. There was a softness about him that had not resided there before, and the scent of him smelled suspiciously of the lavender and rose of his sister's room (not that Alucard would know what Aya-Chan's room smelled of). Seemingly much more at peace now, one might wonder just how much anger he still held towards the older man he gazed upon.

Quite the contrary though, for at any given moment he would flatly tell someone that he was still pissed as hell at the man. For various and good reasons, too. Then again, who would be happy with a person that had drilled a bullet into them just earlier that morning? Well, aside from sadists and masochists, that is. Of which Aya was neither. He still could not help but consider that Alucard had some arcane reason for needing to inflict pain on him and ensure his obedience. Of course, there was the chance that Alucard still didn't realize that Aya stayed dedicated to things, and he wasn't just going to leave when a whim caught him.

 

Hearing the young man within the premises, the Vampire turned, no longer smiling. Rather, he looked a bit bored, eyes dull-it seemed to have that effect when his mouth was no longer perked at the corners. His hat cast further darkness across the crimson pools, and within seemed almost a look of derision, though it was not what Alucard felt. It was supposed that it was simply the default appearance the eyes held-for when he was not killing, fucking, enjoying himself in any way, it would be this look that the gems would take on. One that instilled fear in many mortals, though Aya was not included in such a percentage-for one, he wasn't even mortal. It was the gaze, that when intensified, was described as containing the flames of Hell within their very facets.

The black hair only attributed to the darkness about them, causing them to appear as bright, burning coals amongst dead, unlit ones. A solid, stern look was given, something rarely seen about the Vampire's countenance-normally it was either gleeful or twisted in insanity. All due to the fatigue he was now feeling. His limbs were awfully heavy, and his mind was as well-such things were a rare occurrence-but he hadn't truly enjoyed all the thoughts he needed to sort out. He missed death already. Simply falling asleep the rest of the day would be a fine thing, he thought-he had gotten a bit of rest when first arriving, but certainly not enough to sustain him, so it wasn't as if he actually took it into account. Removing his hat, he tossed his hair back, the deadly, hateful look boring straight into the amethyst gems.

“I need to sleep, punk-where's somewhere comfortably dark?”

And finally, breaking the stolid expression, a corner of his mouth twitched upward.

 

Aya pushed away from the frame, entering into the room. He thought for a moment about the question, considering which of the rooms in the house stayed fairly dark with the curtains guarding the windows. Certainly not his room, or his sibling's - though he'd never allow Alucard into that room alone with all of his sick and twisted tendencies. His parents' room was fairly dark, decorated with deep shades of blue and burgundy. Aya sauntered past Alucard, glancing back on the man to bid him follow. The silent assassin moved down the hall, movement smooth and quick. He stopped before a closed door, his fingers hesitant so close to the knob. Now, the redhead may have missed his sister more than his mother and father, but it didn't downcast the fact that he had seen them brutally murdered, and that he missed them.

The hand touched upon the door, and he pushed it open, greeted by a room of regal decor. His family had been classy, though that wasn't to say Aya still wasn't in his own way. More pictures were found still in this room as in all others. It hinted that the Fujimiya family had been close, though no picture depicted any members of the bloodline aside from Aya's immediate family. Truth be told, Aya couldn't very well remember having any extended family, not that his parents had associated with at least. Upon the nightstand by the grand upholstered canopy bed beamed a picture of the brother and sister - captured by some professional photographer in their youth. It seemed that no matter the picture, Aya always managed to have something of a smile on his face. It made the concept that he no longer did so perplexing. To have been able to abandon his smile so completely seemed impossible, for he had been a mostly happy child.

The bed was dressed with deeply red dyed sheets of satin, blue pillows stacked near the headboard. The walls were painted a soft shade of blue, and the molding mocked the color of blood, the carpet a deep blue that reminded one of a night lighted ocean. Aya drifted to the window of the room, his hands reaching out to let loose the intricate cords that bound the drapes. Thick, velvet curtains of a midnight color fell to conceal the window, plunging the room into shadows (as Aya had not turned on the light). With little issue he picked his way through the room, stepping back into the hall, which was lit brightly by the fluorescent bulbs overhead.

"Make yourself at home."

The man said it awkwardly, for it had almost been out of habit to say it when giving a guest a room. And why should he want the Vampire to feel at home? He loathed him.

 

Alucard was not incredibly gracious, as he didn't even thank the young man, entering and closing the door securely behind him. The darkness soothed him immensely, and he could almost feel the weight drifting from his body in the utter blackness of the room. In other rooms, the breaking dawn and synthetic light had been grating, but in this, he felt a bit refreshed, though could still feel a bit of sagging to his feet and hands. He tossed his hat to the side, and pulled off his tie, walking forward to explore. At the side of the room, he could see a door, and with a twist of the knob, jerked it open. Inside was a master bathroom, complete with a Jacuzzi tub. It was a bit startling, and, being that he could see as if it were actually plain day, he felt no need to flip on the lights to survey it.

The shower was in an entirely separate corner, and he glanced around curiously. The room was painted a light pastel green, splashed in places with a gentle yellow color. The tiles that lined the shower and hot tub area were a creamy white, a few of the tiles encrusted with designs of gold and silver-stemmed flowers, the blooms matching the tints of the walls. The sink area was complete with a large vanity area, and the entire room seemed untouched and spotlessly clean-most likely, it hadn't been used in years. Not that the Vampire cared. He turned on the water in the shower-he bathed before sleeping anyway-and shucked his clothes, stepping in. The heat and moisture calmed him, coating his body in gentle cascades of warmth.

It was reminiscent of when he and Aya had fucked in the car, and he enjoyed the thought as he quickly cleansed himself. Though, throughout the shower, his body was not the only thing relaxed, as his mind was as well. The simple purity of the shower seemed to massage his mind, allowing to release all thoughts it had held earlier, and he was much more pleased. Alucard felt as if he had now returned a normal state-death was the first thing that quickly entered his mind. Good, good-something he truly enjoyed. Finished, he switched the knobs back to their original positions and clothed once more, sauntering into the bedroom and simply lying down on top of the sheets-no need to get inside, really. He laid on his back, in the classic funeral position, eyelids slowly falling shut to ease him into slumber, face calm and peaceful if only in these times.

It was when he slept, when his body remained unmoving and not breathing, did he appear to be what he truly was-dead.

 

Aya returned to his first meal of the day, and he ate it quickly. He had meant to shower once done eating, but hearing the running water from the room Alucard now resided in, he decided against it. Cold water might be the only thing left, and he wasn't particularly in the mood to clean himself in an icy torrent. He set his dishes within the sink, hand-cleaning them to waste away the time. On completion, he stacked them into the cabinets and then frequented the living room. He gathered the shirt he'd worn to the club, taking a moment to notice that Manx had ordered the place be cleaned up after the FREAK attack. The overturned chair had been returned to its previous resting place, and no sign of ambush remained. With a shrug, he started off to the laundry room, throwing the shirt into the hamper as he turned on the washing mechanism to clean the sheets Alucard and he had defiled their first time in Japan together. It reminded him of his admittance to Sakura that he really wanted the Vampire, which set him in a deeply sour mood. He turned on his heel, stalking into his room quietly as he changed into less revealing pants, though the ones he put on clung snuggly to his lower half. Garbed solidly in black, the alabaster flesh shimmered with an eerie elegance, and an aura of sex appeal hung inevitably around him.

Aya returned to the living room, eyes falling to the clock. He'd wasted a good bit of the wait with his tidying up of the house. Two fingers reached to his neck to toy with the cross as he sought out the new cell phone Manx had assigned him. It took him only twenty minutes of searching before he realized that he had left it at the flower shop when he'd changed clothes there. He checked the time again. His comrades were no doubt up by now, readying the shop for opening. Now he picked up the house phone, dialing the familiar number. It was a tired voice that answered him, that of Yohji's who seemed greatly distressed that his sleeping had been interrupted. Apparently they weren't up as he thought they'd be.

"Eh...'Ello?" the brunette upon the line mumbled, caught in a yawn.

"You should be up," Aya commented, leaning against the window as he looked out on the morning glory cast upon the trees.

"Whaddya want Aya, I'm tired," Yohji grunted, clearly irritated.

"I left my cellphone there. I'll be around to pick it up after Sakura's funeral."

Yohji seemed to animate quite quickly at the explanation. "You're going to it?" he inquired.

"I... It's my fault she's dead," the redhead answer, eyes falling shut. "It's all I can do."

Yohji murmured his agreement, before raising another question. "We can meet you there, ya know. It's not as if you're the only one who knew her. We're going to miss seeing her pretty face around the shop."

"That's fine," Aya consented. "Bring my phone and save me the drive." He dropped the connection, returning the phone to its cradle on his way out the door.

The sun was bright in the sky, and he shielded his eyes from the intensity as he got to his car. The assassin slipped in soundlessly, pressing the key into the ignition so that he could start the car. He turned the new Porsche around in his drive, speeding down the road with a heavy conscience. It was his fault that Sakura was dead. Though he had saved her before, it seemed it was he that would undoubtedly cause her demise. He'd tried to push her away, and when he finally brought he close he marked her death - just as he'd been afraid he would. Assassins weren't allowed happiness. He stared at the empty road, turning as the intersection smoothed out before him. The trip to the graveyard she'd be buried in wasn't far from his home, and he knew the way well. His parents lie there too, now resting peacefully in death. Life was a cruel device, denying his parents the immortality to live, but he supposed it was better this way. Too many immortal people in the world could get dangerous, and it was for that reason he remembered that Estet needed to be destroyed to prevent such things from happening.

The tombstones jutted out just in the distance, and he slowed his car to a final halt alongside the grass. Others were already there, and as he looked around he could not yet see Yohji's car, or the motorcycle Omi sometimes road. He stood from the Porsche, keys in his pocket as he wandered towards those currently gathering upon the dew-glistening grass, heads turned down. As he neared, the distinct sound of sobs being choked back filled his ears. He searched out the girl's parents deliberately, murmuring his quiet apologies to them for the loss of their daughter.

"Are you... Are you the one that helped her when she lost her kidney?" they asked, and he confirmed the guess.

He couldn't tell them that their daughter was dead because of him, but he hoped that his profuse apologies could convey something of his guilt. He turned his body as the minister stepped forward, standing before the ornately carved coffin. Standing alongside the girl's parents, he listen to the service in utter quietness, hardly breathing for want not to disturb the corpse lying within that box. It was a beautiful service, Aya noted as it came to a somber close. His parents had hardly had any funeral at all, aside from their business associates showing up to attempt to console him. He cast the thought away, nodding gently to Sakura's parents respectfully before he walked forward. His fingers reached to the back of his neck, unfastening the necklace hanging about it. When the crucifix was clenched in his hand, he knelt before the box, ivory digits touching the edge.

"Ah, Sir..." the minister began, trying to forbid Aya from opening the upper portion of the casket, but he was quickly silenced by a glance from the parents and Yohji's hand resting upon his shoulder.

"He meant a lot to her, and she meant a lot to him. Give the man some time," the lanky assassin muttered to the reverend.

Violet eyes stared down at the body, white bandages wrapped to cover the gruesome remains of her neck. Headless was how he saw her corpse, but after years of death he found that he could not flinch away from such a sight. The mirrors fell shut as he reached into the coffin, resting the cross upon her breast.

"Bury my regret and vengeance with you," he mouthed in silence.

Abruptly he stood, closing the lid as he turned - his eyes once again open and revealing little. He bowed reverently, murmuring a final apology and then made his way back to his car, followed by Yohji and Omi who walked alongside him.

Yohji chanced a glance at him.

"That was pretty rude of you to open her casket," he announced to the redhead, who paused and turned to him.

"Shut up," he growled, coldly.

Omi released a sigh, stretching a hand out to give Aya the phone. "Yohji, can we not do this here?"

"Do what here?" Aya interjected, brow arching.

Yohji folded his arms over his chest, "Aya... You know our policy. We want to make sure that you are not thinking of trying to find happiness with Alucard."

The Weiss leader stiffened, fists clenching.

Yohji went on, "How many have you killed, Aya? Do you really think you deserve happiness?" The amethyst orbs grew frosty with anger.

"If anything, being with Alucard is my own way of torturing myself because of the people I've killed. Do you have any idea how much abuse I take from him, just to allow it to be some small retribution for my sins?"

Yohji frowned, "You should stay away from him. He might give you false ideas of hope."

Aya was bitterly reminded of wanting to cry out for Alucard to save him.

"I can't leave him. Ever," the redhead murmured, and as he said the words a brutal fist contacted with his face.

Leaf green eyes regarded him violently.

"Don't think that you'll find happiness with him. Ever. Don't accidentally fall in love."

A pale ivory fist lifted, and relentlessly Aya returned the facial abuse.

"I won't fall in love with that bastard. That's why I won't complain about being bound to him, because I can't stand him and he makes me miserable."

Omi stepped between them, "That's enough. Yohji, I told you that he wouldn't forget - not like I did with Ouka. Let's go, before anyone comes to ask why you're beating the crap out of each other."

Aya snorted, turning away from them as he sat down in his car, starting the engine. He backed into the street, turned and drove off towards his home, conscious feeling ever more heavy than when he'd headed for Sakura's funeral. Why had Yohji thought he would ever forget his sins? Being happy with Alucard? That was absolutely impossible and out of the question. The Vampire would be the last person to make him happy, the last person he would ever think to fall in love with. No, love was impossible. He would not fall prey to that emotion. He wouldn't...

Aya slowed the car as he reached his house again, and still perturbed he exited the automobile and entered back into the house. He first toed of his shoes before moving down the hall, finding himself at that close door again, violet eyes burning molten holes into it.

How could Yohji think...

 

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Le gasp. :o I know, I know. No one likes Sakura, but honestly. I had to go rewatch Weiss Kreuz just to try to prove that Aya didn't think highly of Sakura. Unfortunately, it only reinforced the fact that Aya would blame himself for her death and go to her funeral. Stupid, impudent girl. Anyhow. Didn't everyone like the blood exchange? Wasn't is lovely~? So yes, Aya and Alucard are now officially bound. `Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my kin', and all that jazz. But now it's time.

 

FOR REVIEWER RESPONSE!:

 

Red-on-Black: Aya and Alucard run circles around each other so much. XD One minute they can be half-way towards sex, and the next one of them will be pissed off about something. Lover's spats are very, very common between them. As for Alucard trying to make up for making Aya? Like hell he would. He doesn't care if Aya is angry, as long as the man is open to fucking and abuse. ^^; Trust me, we had the dilemma of them having to split up thanks to their jobs. But we came up with a plausible, awesome conclusion. Which you'll have to wait for… Until the end of the story. Nyah. Nyah. Nyah! ^^ Be sure to drop us another review anytime! We love getting them.

 

Until next time~ <3

But, I do have something for our oh-so-faithful fans. It's a picture, a thank you for our 2000+ hits. Almost three-thousand! :x

Enjoy!: http://img103.imageshack.us/img103/5017/fangirls4gv.jpg