Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Pistol-whipped ❯ The Saint and the Sin ( Chapter 7 )

The wooden booth loomed around him, cast shadows over him, made him uneasy, and trapped him within polished mahogany. His black, black eyes darted around and he almost jumped when the small lattice window slid open to his side. A deep, comforting voice rumbled from the next door compartment.

 

“Speak your sins, my child.”

 

His eyes went wide, his voice caught in his throat. Sins?

Why am I here?

 

The priest waited ever-patiently. The dark-haired boy fisted his rosary, clutching it tightly to his chest while the blood from his last conquest appeared on his hands, dyed them red. He began to panic, became short of breath and his hands twitched over the weapon in his jacket, sticking out like a tumor. The priest leaned toward the window, “My son?”

 

His eyes met the long barrel of a silencer.

The teenager left the confession booth and walked away, not once looking back. Blood ran thickly from under the door to the priest's compartment and spilled onto the polished marble of the hallowed church floor.

 

Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.

 

 

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“N-Nagara-senpai!”

 

She was on her knees, tangled in his bed sheets, limbs thrashing about as he reached around her slim waist to toy with her aroused clit, intent on throwing her into a mind-shattering orgasm. He wanted it to be over sooner, but he had a reputation to live up to. He rammed himself into her, thighs meeting thighs in a moist slap. Their skin tones contrasted as his muscles strained to make their hips meet, over and over.

 

“Senpai!” She craned her neck upwards, bucking back against him and arching her small back as much as she could. Her bleached hair spanned her shoulders and ran down her arms onto his bed, stuck to her sweaty skin. She was panting hard, like an animal, her tiny pale hands clutching his dark sheets, her toes curling more than she thought possible, “S-Senpai!” He grunted in response and his fingers renewed their efforts on her clit while he slammed into her saturated pussy from behind. He wanted her to make more noise; he wanted her to scream his name.

 

He wanted Naomi to hear it.

 

He fucked the girl even harder, reaching the dark depths inside her core. He always fucked girls this way; on all fours. It saved him from eye contact, helped him imagine they were someone else. They were much louder when he took them this way, as if to compensate for the lack of intimacy. He ran a slim hand all over her ass and a thigh, hating the sticky feeling on her skin, and all he wanted was a shower so he could be rid of it.

 

Her voice split his ear drums as she came; “Nagara-kun!”

 

Her back arched even more and her neck almost bent backwards in the explosion, and the walls of her channel rippled deliciously around his member, drawing him in to do the same. He merely grunted when his vision blurred a little and his cock went into a spasm, filling the rubber condom with sperm. The schoolgirl slumped as her arms gave in and she collapsed onto his bed. He plopped down beside her to catch his breath.

 

She rolled over and lay her head on his chest, her half-blonde hair all over him; “Nagara-kun...” she sighed and slung an arm around him, drawing patterns with a finger, “That was...” she sighed in satisfaction and his junior school council member lifted her head to look at him, resting her chin on his chest, “incredible,” He tried not to smirk, or roll his eyes, “did you like it?”

 

He looked down at her and circled an arm around her shoulders, “Actually, best I've ever had.”

 

Nagara Ryunosuke was a good liar.

 

She smiled and kissed him, his tongue moving automatically with hers while he stared into her closed eyelids. Her mouth was wet and warm, her tongue the usual colour and texture. She pulled away after too long, their mixed saliva smeared across his lips, “I should go now...my parents will be looking for me,” she lingered some more on top of him, “So,” he just sat there with a blank expression, waiting for her to continue, “I guess I can call you Nagara-kun, now?” she smiled, specifying the more casual -kun she had tagged to his name. He tried not to spit and laugh in her face.

 

What, do you think you're special now?

 

He forced a smile, one of the charming ones that could make knees melt, “Sure, Yuu...”

 

“Yuuka.” She ran a hand into his dark mass of hair, and started toying with an overgrown sideburn.

 

He tried not to wince, “Yeah, Yuuka.”

 

Can you get your skinny ass out of my room, now?

 

He looked away from her and at the red digital numbers of his bedside clock while she got up reluctantly and slowly, obviously thinking it was sexy to lick his chest and leave a trail of spit he'd have to wash off. “See you at school, koi,” he let his jaw go slack the moment she sat up and turned her back to him. What the hell!? Koi?

 

Nanda?

 

Did I miss something?

 

His smile, the knee-trembling, mouth-watering, heart-melting smile, was back in a flash the second she turned back to him. Nagara Ryunosuke was a great liar.

 

She sat on the edge of his bed half dressed, just looking at him while she buttoned up her uniform. Was she waiting for him to say something? “Alright,” his smile was fast-fading; he just wanted her out of his sight so he could dive into the shower and rid himself of her salty-sweet stench, “I'll see you at school, Yuuki.”

 

“Yuuka.”

 

He smiled sheepishly, “Oh, right, Yuuka.” He watched with relief as she got to her feet and finished dressing, straightening her skirt, ready to walk away.

 

His heart stopped when she moved to his balcony instead of his door.

 

Yuuka waved with a beaming smile across the small alleyway into Naomi's room, “I'll see you tomorrow, Arai-senpai!” She giggled a bit as Naomi waved back from her study area, oblivious to the damage she had just caused. To her, she had just gone way up in social status, and she was eager to flaunt it. She yelped a little when hands seized her shoulders in an iron grip and threw her toward the open doorway across the room.

 

“Get the fuck out, Yuuka.”

 

The girl whimpered under the hostility of his stare and darted out of his room, utterly shocked and confused, almost rendered to tears. She took her crap and scampered out of the teenager's small house. Once she was out of sight, Ryunosuke's hands went right to his face and he stumbled backwards, falling on his bed. He lay there, pulling at his hair; teeth grinding together, eyes clenched shut.

 

He saw red.

 

And icy hands clawed at him from every side.

 

 

***

 

 

“Sato Yuu?”

 

Alexander flicked through the documents his new partner had collected concerning their newest target. Birthplace, birth date, relatives, gender, hobbies, schools, history. They went on an on, but there was nothing there worth having. “His background checks out, Nagara,” he sighed and dropped the papers into a heap on his friend's small dining table and leaned back on the chair, “there's nothing we can pin on the guy.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. No luck. Two months and no fucking luck. Two months and two thousand migraines.

 

And no fucking luck.

 

Ryunosuke spun around, “It has to be Sato,” he snatched the papers up for effect, “there has to be something!” He saw it himself, the predatory gleam in the boy's eyes, the dark intent. It was there!

 

“Look, man, just because you caught him checking out your girl-”

 

Ryunosuke slammed a fist onto the table, rattling the coffee mug and spilling the strong liquid onto the smooth surface, “You didn't see the way he was looking at her!” The stressed teens were at boiling point, over a month of searching and they had nothing. Sigma and Ro were six meters up each ass, ready to spill out their nostrils if they didn't come up with some incriminating evidence. The pressure was no easy thing to deal with. “He was following her, Amekou! I could see it in his eyes!”

 

Alexander snapped, “Get your fucking heart out of this, Nagara!” he stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair over, “Everyone looks at Naomi, and everyone wants Naomi. Deal with it!” His eyes shut tightly and he hunched over the table, bracing himself on the edge as nausea flooded over him, beating against his nerves like waves against a cliff, “We need to move on to someone else, Yuu is a dead end.” And I'm not in the mood for this shit.

 

“But-”

 

“I know! He's creepy, he's mysterious! But y'know, sometimes people can be like that without having to kill someone,” he looked at his partner, trying his best to reason through the searing ache in his head.

 

Ryunosuke scuffled through the papers some more, desperate for something that would end the investigation, get it over with, “Just...” he growled in frustration, tearing and scrunching whatever useless papers he could reach. He plopped himself into a chair, sagging in defeat.

 

Alexander steadied himself against the table as a dizzy rush went through him, “Nagara,” Ryunosuke's eyes glinted in apprehension, understanding his friend's frequent pains, “we can't keep wasting time on him.” He pulled a folded up newspaper article from the front pocket of his uniform and flung it before his Japanese friend with a flick of his wrist.

 

The room was silent. Only the ceiling fan above their heads made some noise, and the faint sound of dripping coffee registered into Ryunosuke's sharp hearing. Big, black, bold letters stood out on a bland grey background. His hands trembled, palms sweaty, while he read the heading.

 

PRIEST SHOT DEAD IN CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Nun found later, defiled in her home

 

Alexander carefully observed the disbelief that crossed his partner's features, the well-hidden dismay that painted his face as he ran a hand through his hair and read the article. Pictures of the crime scene; the bodies. A newsreader's voice read the report aloud in his mind, the sound of police sirens and the yellow of police tape filled his thoughts. He read further down, when something caught his eye.

 

He looked up at his friend, leaning against a nearby wall, “She's still alive?”

 

Alexander's eyes were downcast in exhaustion, “She's still alive.”

 

Ryunosuke skimmed back over the front page news “You think it's the same guy?” He flicked over to read the small continued section, “He left her alive...it doesn't seem his style.”

 

“Read carefully;” He crossed his arms over his chest, reciting the article in his head; “The DNA tests offered no results, the victim of the rape was very young and innocent,” It seemed exactly his style.

 

The Japanese teen took one last look at the pictures before he folded the article up again and tossed it to Craft, the older boy caught it with ease, “I'll arrange a meeting with her,” he moved to get up, then remembered the papers on Sato Yuu; “I'm gonna stay on Sato;” he waited for the objection, but it never came.

 

Alexander pushed himself off the wall and made his was to the front door; “Do whatever the fuck you want;” He ran a hand through his messy, half-styled Mohawk, “It's too late at night to argue with your ass,” Ryunosuke smirked at his small victory, intent on finding dirt on Sato, “I'm going home.” Craft stepped out onto the dark street and shut the door behind him, wincing at the effect the sharp noise had on his head ache.

 

I need a fucking bed.

 

Ryunosuke sat in his dimly lit room later, ignoring the time blaring at him in red digital numbers, and decided to spend the entire night focusing on his suspect. The coffee ran endlessly, and the music blared loudly through his headset. He processed the information, automatically sifting though and tossing out everything irrelevant. The day's events absently flittered through his mind. A shit day.

 

“I'll walk to school alone today, Nagara-kun.”

 

Naomi.

 

He leaned back in his chair, forgetting about work for a moment. He craned his neck to look out onto his balcony and through his neighbor's window. Her curtains were drawn, the lights were off. He could hear the rustling of each sad uncertain purple curtain as he hunched over his papers, and vaguely felt like a poet. He half expected a raven to make perch on his balcony and quoth `Nevermore' at his hopeless situation. He heard the small sounds of the nocturnal animals about, the wind rustling the trees. He cursed his sharp hearing and turned the volume of his music up.

 

He could hear Naomi crying.

 

It was hard to accept that he could fix it all, make everything better, if he just said those three words she wanted to hear. No, that wouldn't help. She could tell when he was lying.

 

Usotsuke.

 

He immersed himself back into his research, eager to drive his neighbor out of his mind and drive away the urge to jump into her room to replace her sobs with moans. It wasn't until 5:24 in the morning that he found something under the birth certificates, family trees and part-time occupations. He sprayed his coffee out in surprise and berated himself for not noticing it earlier.

 

Sato, Yuu.

Siblings: Sato Miki, sister.

Status: Missing.

 

Uso!

 

 

***

 

 

Vomit ran into the gutter on the road just outside his apartment. He hunched over the sidewalk and staggered a bit, waiting for his stomach to project itself out of his mouth. Alexander straightened himself, wiping his mouth, and the tears from his eyes, with the back of his hand. Veins stuck out, stressed, along his temples and his eyes were watery and bloodshot. He rolled his shoulders and looked to the starless sky to stretch his back and neck.

 

Damnit, Jen.

 

The pressure was still piling up; the situation was just getting worse and worse. No leads, more attacks. He just wanted to get it over with. He wanted to go back to his country, his city, his house, his woman, his car. It didn't help at all when Nagara insisted on chasing for dead ends. It only made the investigation last longer.

 

And the time was taking its toll.

 

He leaned against the wall to his apartment building; watching some street rats selling their food for a stash. He guessed it was the same all over the world, it didn't matter which country you were in. There will always be drugs, weapons and war. Inevitable.

 

So why do you try so hard to stop it?

 

He turned to the front door and unlocked it to let himself in. The stairs to his floor were never fun to climb; he always had to dodge a spider web or mouse, and the last three steps creaked suspiciously. Alexander lugged himself to his apartment and sobered immediately when he heard the hinges on his door squeak as it swung slightly, a sliver of his room visible through the opening. His gun was out in an instant; he swung the door open cautiously and scanned the room in a second.

 

Nothing.

 

Only light, coming from his bedroom.

 

The lights don't even fucking work...

 

He crept down the short hallway, mentally cursing at his noisy shoes and the noisy floor. Warm, orange light seeped into the dank hallway from the slightly ajar door, casting a ray onto the floor. The dirt and dust at his feet ground against the cement, giving away his presence. Still nothing. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, and prickled against his collar as the gun in his hand slipped a little from his grasp, the sweat on his palm making it slide. He fixed his grip and clenched his jaw, before slamming the door open, weapon steadily outstretched and finger on the trigger.

 

Candle light.

 

Warmth.

 

His gun was pointing at the figure sitting at the foot of his bed, her shadow stretching before her to his feet. Alexander's eyes softened at the sight. Her knees were tucked into her chest, her forehead rested atop her knees and delicate hands laced with themselves around her shins. Her torso rose and fell steadily with her breathing. She was sleeping.

 

The agent calmed and lowered his gun, moving quietly to sit by her side at the foot of his bed. He leaned back, his neck resting on the mattress as he took in her soothing presence. He saw a suitcase haphazardly slung against a wall and let a faint smile creep to his lips. She must have just arrived. The boy slung an arm around her small form and pulled her against his side, his smile grew when she murmured and snuggled further into his heat. The veins along his temples were gone; the blood in his eyes had subsided. His head no longer ached, and his stomach no longer churned. Alexander rested his cheek on top of her head, loving the smell of her raven strands. Exhaustion overtook him and his eyes sank closed.

 

He sighed against her hair and his hand automatically ran feather-light touches along her arm. His smile faded, and feelings warred with logic.

 

Damnit, Jen.

 

It's too dangerous for you here.

 

“I missed you,” He looked down at her in surprise at the softly spoken words. Jennifer's chin tilted up so she could get a better look at him and a smile graced her tired features. She said it again, arms wound around his slim waist as she snuggled back against him, pressing her face into his chest; “I missed you.” A small hand clutched at his jacket, afraid of letting go.

 

He released a dejected sigh, the air rustling the hair on the top of her head, “Jen,” he began. A light snore made its way to his ears. He'd grill her about traveling to the other side of the world later, he decided, as he drifted into a comfortable sleep. Worries for her safety and wellbeing flitted past his fading consciousness and made his brow knot together.

 

At that moment, though, he couldn't have been happier.

 

 

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To be continued...

 

A/N: Too tired and fried to check through this one for typos ><
I'll do it later ._.

R&R