Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ Facing the World Alone ❯ The End that Meets the Beginning, II (censored) ( Chapter 3 )

Date posted: Monday, March 5th, 2006
Edited: Not really. I try my best though, so leave me alone! T-T ((cries)).
Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (edit: censured out), graphic adult content, graphic adult situations, some violence, angst… Yaoi, meaning male and male sexual relationship.  You have been forewarned.
Rated: R
Summery: “What is life without Sai?” Shindou had asked himself. The only answer he could come up with was very simple, “There was no such life.” Not even the illusion of an afterlife could stand up long. Not even Go could hold the burden of lost and act as its substitute. “What is life when you have nothing to live for?” It is nothing; obsolete. Facing the World Alone
By: Mira Watanabe :: Chapter Three :: Third person POV The End that Meets the Beginning, II (Censured)   Shin was walking down the desolate back ally of Twenty-Third Street. As he got closer to his destination, his posture became more relaxed and lazy, and his face more down cast. He was getting into character; like putting on the sheep’s pelt.   The mark was another middle aged man, about 38 years old. He was 6 feet 7 and leaning too bulky for Shin’s tastes. His hair was the same lengths as Yamada-sensei’s with the same black coloring with green shine. His eyes thought were the perfect sun burst of yellow-orange to yellow. Neither Auburn, nor honey colored. Shin didn’t bother blushing in the dark until he was a few feet from the nearest street light. It takes a pro to know when to put the cards on the table without wasting a hand. He self-consciously tugged his leather jacket close to get the mark to look at his bare chest.   Shin watched the sun set into a golden hue. As the cliché goes, “Hock, line, sinker,” and he has captured another fish out of the pond.   Shin took a step back, acting weary of the stranger. Baiting once more. “S-Sorry…”   The stranger took a step forward without a word.   Shin fidgets with the hem of his leather jacket and tries to step around the man, “uhm… e-ex-excuse me... please…”   The stranger doesn’t move and stairs down at the teen.   Shin, with pseudo-reluctance, looks up, “Eh… um… please move.”   Pushing the younger man into the algae-eaten wall, the stranger grins. “No,” comes the defiant answer.   Shin wills his eyes wide in a realistic mockery of surprise. He stares at the now honey colored eyes and licks his lips as if he was nervous.   “What-what are you going to do?” Shin shutters, already knowing what happens next but getting into the fun of the Game.   “Turn around and face the wall,” comes the curt command, but before Shin could follow the order, the stranger has already spun him around. Instinctively, Shin raises his arms to save himself from a hard blow to the head, getting his arms scratched up in the process.   Pretending to have a longer recovery time, Shin rests his head on his arms as if dazed, all the while letting the stranger arrange him as he sees fit. Legs spread in a lewd position.   The older man then unbuckles the teen’s belt and strips the black leather pants down and over supple butt cheeks. Shin groans. He then extracts a condom from his back pocket and pulls down his own, tailored, pants. Pulling out his huge meaty organ, he slips on the plastic. He leans forward and pushes Shin’s chest onto the slimy wall, licking the back of the teen’s ear and rubbing his meat into the crevice of his ass. His voice is husky with need, “This might hurt a bit.”   (Censured)   The taller man picks him up, cradles him even. Carefully he zips the other man’s semen-coated, leather pants and discards his condom into a plastic Ziploc inside his suit pocket. Stranger is a cautious man.    “Next Tuesday, midnight. Here,” and the stranger is gone. That’s how these things work.   Shin smirks. This is his world, his rules, his Game. He reaches back into his pants pocket and extracts the two cards slipped there seemingly unnoticed; paper and plastic -- a stander white card with privet phone number and a credit card most likely with set amount. Looks like Stranger is going to be a daily shopper.  Fine by him, it was a good fuck for a first timer.   Note to self, treat Karasu to a scotch. Maybe even a freebee, depending on the amount of the card.   Shin then heads home early for the night. He pulls out a cig, and for once life is tolerable. He’d hate to see the consequences tomorrow. For everything there is a price. For a tolerable day, the price was going to be big. It was a sure guarantee in Shin’s life. ‘Bring it on,’ he challenges mentally.   The bar, Blood-Black Roses, is open when he says it should be. Which that is why it is almost always closed. Shin prefers the silent life of things. Walking one of his twisted routs home, he stops by a locker room and punches in his combination, and the three inch steel door opens without a problem. He pulls out his discarded school bag, not really a backpack, and his keys. Inside the locker, in the very back, he punches a new number in before closing the door.   Tomu lets him keep his little locker cemented in his locker room. The ones he owned where crap. Shin promises to let him keep the hundred thousand, in American, security box after he moves away. Tomu doesn’t care, not when he is drunk off his ass eighty-five percent of his life.    Taking his goods with him, he walks across the street to his home. Over a year on the streets and he was doing well. He opened the side door to Blood-Black Roses with a series of keys and punched in a code to the panel he installed last month, or the month before. He was home.   “Tadaima,” Shin whispers to the cold, dark recess of the bar-made-home. The teen closes the door, switches on the many lights, and locks up the locks, adding the chain. Before he leaves, he punches in the new security code. Sixteen months on the street teaches a person many lessons in life. Life is the greatest of all teachers.   First things are always first. Shin walks to the small laundry room located behind the bar for employees at one point. He strips the glued pants from his body with practiced ease and throws it and his jacket into the wash. Socks soon follow. He then opens his school bag and extracts his light gray t-shirt and beat up Levies. After tossing them into the wash he adds yesterday’s towels and washcloths. Dumping a handful of powdered soap in, he clothes the lid in pushes the washing machine on. Easy cleaning at its best. Too bad the machine was a bitch in heat.   Going to the dryer, he took out yesterday’s wash out. After folding the pseudo-leather garment, he put them into his bag and set it on a chair for tomorrow. He left gray shirt number two on the back of the chair with Levies number two. The shirts and pants were on sale, what could he say?   A green towel and wash cloth was left on the dryer as he took the other two with him for washing. Four for one deal, couldn’t miss it.   The bathroom downstairs contained a simple hose, a green bar of Zest soap, a bottle of the cheapest shampoo, no bran name, and a drain in the floor. It was enough. The corner was mainly used to wake up drunks or to get to a hose on time to stop a brawl from getting too heated. Shin used it as a fast way to wash up.   After throwing the towels in the wash, Shin couldn’t have felt much cleaner at the moment. Naked as the day he was born, he walked out of the employees’ lounge, past the tables and chairs, up the stairs, past the “guest” rooms, to his room furthest down the hall; the owner’s quarters.   The only difference between the guest rooms and the owner’s quarters where simple. The guest rooms looked and felt like a prison cell; a bed spring on the bare-cemented floor, a chest of well used goodies and a sink. The owner’s quarters at least had a gilded-metal frame, a shelf made out of wood and cinder blocks, a shabby armoire, and an adjacent bathroom. The bathroom was the best part; there was a bath standing above ground on three little claw feet and a cinder block. He bypassed using the bath that night, for the thing contained only one setting, scolding.   The lumpy bed was anything but comfortable, but Shin wasn’t picky. The teen just sat there after retrieving his medical supplies. He put some antibiotics on his scraped arms and dropped the supplies on the floor for later use. He then wound up his antique alarm clock and set it on the floor next to the bed as well. He closed the door to his room and turned off the light. Daring to walk though the pitch black room, he stubbed his toe on the chest at the foot of his bed. Bed found. He crawled into the scratchy sheets of his covers and fell asleep instantly. He had an exhausting night.    His last thought was wondering why he never felt cold that night, walking through the streets nearly half naked, in the midst of winter no less.   End Chapter: To Be Continued Annoying Authors Notes: (edit: very old… like 2 years)   If I haven’t already told you, I’m making this story up off of a whim. I’m going in blind!! No really, I have no clue what is going to happen next so don’t ask me. LMAO! All I know is where I want this story to go, and I know even that will probably change as I go along. It’s a good 98 percent chance. “A story writes itself” is true in a very freakish way. It’s like the character’s takeover without you ever realizing it. Damn Nazis. It is frustrating to say the least, but I haven’t given up all hope of taking back over my story. Actually, I never try to take over a story anymore; I just let it go its own way, then we’re both happy… somewhat. Then it’s like I’m not even writing the damn thing. Oh don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here typing you up, go do your own damn thing, it’s not like I’m your freaking author! Love you too babes, kisu.   Hummm… I like the tone of the beginning. “The mimics of the dirty deed done… Round Two...” ((shivers)) That gives me Goosebumps of excitement. ((giggles)) … but otherwise very descriptive, even for me. ((shivers))   My second favorite part was “…The bathroom was the best part; there was a bath standing above ground on three little claw feet and a cinder block…” Something about that “and a cinder block” gets me laughing.     Until next time, Ja ne! Chapter Notes:   Tadaima - I’m home P L E A S E R E V I E W!