Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Pistol-whipped ❯ The Sun and the Moon ( Chapter 14 )

 

Another one for InuGrrrl; if she didn't write such great stuff this story wouldn't have even started.
Thanks to everyone for your comments. Enjoy!

Believe

is by The Bravery

 

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I am hiding from some beast,
But the beast was always here,
Watching without eyes,

Because the beast is just my fear.

 

I need something more to keep on breathing for,
So give me something to believe.

 

How long had it been?

Since he had got the call from Sigma ordering him to come to Japan and deal with Ro's little problem? Since he jumped on a plane without telling Jennifer because he was afraid she would judge him? Because he was afraid she would see that he would do anything Sigma told him to do? Because he didn't want to face the fact that he simply has no choice. Because Sigma owns him, because he has no real life.

How long had it been since that first day he shook Nagara Ryunosuke's hand?

 

More than a few months... less than a year.

 

It didn't feel like such a long time to him now, not when the five minutes he spent staring at the door to his apartment felt like an eternity. The sun had barely broken through the horizon to the east and the moon was still pinned up behind clouds, getting that little bit more transparent as its partner began to dominate the sky.

 

“Fucking hell...”

 

The stench was horrible. Sex, blood, death. It was thick in the air; the taste was harsh on his tongue. He ran a hand through his hair, sparing no mercy for the rough mohawk he had styled it into. He ducked under the yellow police tape and into the pink bedroom, quickly observing the few CSIs working around the room. He scanned the walls, noted the photos, and the little splotches of blood that had splattered onto smiling faces. The police dusted for fingerprints, the forensics ear-budded saliva, sperm and blood, and detectives surveyed the room with a hand rubbing their chin, as if they had a clue.

 

His stomach lurched when his eyes fell on the bed. His throat constricted and his heart screamed. The smell made his eyes water...

 

`Don't pretend it's the smell that makes you want to cry.'

 

But no-one would know that. None of it showed. And that was as it should be. That was what he was trained to do. Steel his jaw, eliminate his emotions.

  

“Are you the one from Sigma?” A tall, intimidating man stepped up beside him, “Alex, was it?”

 

“Alexander Craft.” He replied in short, with a clipped voice. That's the way it had to be with these officials, he needed to make an impression, or he would be underestimated because of his age. “This is why I was dragged from the States?” He pointed his chin toward the depressing crime scene, tried to block out the gut wrenching sobs he heard coming from another room. Her little brother...Her parents.

 

“Our associates here in Japan asked for our help.” The man had a beard, it wasn't very long but Alexander could easily imagine something getting stuck in it. “This one's dangerous.” It had been going on for a long time. The young Craft crossed his arms, the slender muscles bunching together and flaunted with the sleeveless shirt he wore.

 

He looked at the young girl, her legs spread and her head lolled to the side. He eyed the bodily fluids caked on her with disgust. “What came up from the DNA tests?” He clenched his teeth together as the sudden urge to punch something overrode his senses. There was nothing lower, nothing more vile or repulsive than a rapist. He opened his ears to the cries coming from the other room. Her loved ones were in pain. He tried to sympathize, tried to imagine it happening to someone he cared about.

 

Instantaneous. His blood pumped vigorously through him, hot and fast, driven by the thundering of his heart. Pure anger, pure rage.

 

That willneverhappen.

 

But he let it happen.

 

The door to his shitty apartment slammed shut behind him in the early morning silence. Dust floated to the floor as Alexander leaned on the kitchen bench, a hand on his face and his shoulders hunched over. The dark shadows under his eyes were enough evidence to show his utter lack of sleep.

 

How could he sleep when he knew his best friend had betrayed him?

 

He wanted to scream, let it all out somehow; the anger, the shocked feeling of being double-crossed by someone you trusted with your life. But he had the answers now, he could be happy. It was over, wasn't it? He could take Jennifer now and they could go home; that secure place where there was only the two of them and no Sigma, no Ro.

 

And no Nagara Ryunosuke.

 

But then there was that other part of him, in its youthful desperation, that still believed Ryunosuke was a good person, and this was all just some sick joke; a huge mistake, a gross miscalculation on the part of Sigma and Ro. That part of him believed that there was something else to the story, another side of it that he hadn't heard yet. It kept telling him that he mustn't jump to conclusions. That, underneath his rough exterior, Ryunosuke was good. He must have gotten in with the wrong crowd. He must've been doing drugs or something, been too ashamed to tell him about it. He must not have been himself. It was all a huge, huge mistake.

 

Nagara is good.

 

“Alex?” Jennifer's dreamy voice emerged from the dark hallway as she walked out, rubbing her eyes and still not completely awake, “You just got back?” Worry set over her features as she watched him straighten and set a pair of shadowy eyes on her. His stare was intense, and the darkness under his eyes only made the gaze more formidable.

 

“I know who did it,” he said, “It was him.”

Jennifer let out a breath, her eyes falling to the floor. There was a long silence, a painful one. It took up all the room in the apartment, filled every nook and corner.

 

“I didn't want to tell you because he's your friend. I...” her fingers toyed with the hem of her oversized shirt, “I didn't want him to be a bad person.” Her eyes flicked back up to Alexander's, “I figured that maybe if I ignored it, then it wouldn't be true.”

“Shut up.”

 

Before she could recover from her stunned silence, Alexander closed the distance between them in two strides, gripped the back of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. She made a muffled noise and her eyebrows knotted together, the force of his kiss bordering violent. She tried to pull away, but his free hand locked onto her waist and she was fixed in place with his body pressed to hers and his tongue plundering her mouth. Jennifer stopped struggling when it started to feel good, when her body heated up under the baggy t-shirt she wore to bed and when Alexander's sheer strength sent little shivers up and down her limbs. Her eyes drifted shut and she moaned, leaning into the hard kiss.

 

But then he pulled away, taking her breath with him, and stared into her eyes with an intensity he rarely used.

 

“Is this how he kissed you?” he asked, his voice oozing with venom before he claimed her surprised lips again.

 

His hand went from the back of her neck to join the other at her waist and he let out a muffled groan, wrapping his arms around her form. His lips released hers and before Jennifer could catch her breath his mouth was on her neck, licking, sucking, nibbling just the way he knew she liked it. He felt the vibrations in her throat when she let out a loud moan and his heated breath started to come in slightly quicker pants. When his mouth reached her collarbone and he sucked hard enough to leave a horrible mark, Jennifer's knees gave in and she needed to lean onto him for support.

 

“Alex,” She began, her voice husky and breathless, “bed.” His hands gripped her ass and he hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist automatically as he walked them to the only other room in the small apartment.

 

He all but threw her onto the mattress; “Get that fucking shirt off,” he demanded, pulling his black singlet over his head to reveal slim hardness and reaching for his belt buckle. His shadowed eyes didn't once leave Jennifer as his hands worked on the button and then the zipper to his dark pants, and he pushed them down his thighs. Jennifer stared at the bulge in his briefs, licking her lips ever so slightly. His voice pulled her eyes up to his again, “You want to suck it, don't you?”

 

His thumbs hooked under the elastic band of material that wrapped around his hips and he pulled them down, freeing himself. He grabbed the back of her head again and pushed her towards his thick hardness, inconsiderate as he forced himself into her mouth. Jennifer made a pitiful sound and took him in, her tongue slowly rubbing his length as more and more of it inched down her throat. The dark side of Alexander Craft mused at the picture she made: weak, submissive. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

 

She belongs on her knees.

 

“Suck.” He commanded, and she did so, drawing a light grunt from the agent looming over her. Jennifer did as she was told while her mind was reeling with questions and while her hands trembled ever so slightly with fear. “Did you do this for Nagara when he came to visit?” Alexander spat. “Did you suck on his dick like a little whore?” His eyes were glazed over with moisture; tears of pleasure and pain, and his hand shook as he pushed her closer to him, making her take more. He saw on her face that she was uncomfortable, upset, afraid, worried, but he kept pushing her and thrusting into her warm, wet mouth.

 

He wanted to stop, but his body was not his own.

His body belonged to that other side of him, the enraged, betrayed, vengeful side of Alexander that retaliated against his pain without thinking. He knew he was hurting her when their eyes met, and he pulled himself from her mouth, her hot breath coming in quick pants against his engorged skin. Her relief disappeared when he grabbed her roughly by the arms and jerked her around, forcing her to her hands and knees on the bed before him. His hands pushed her shirt up around her waist and he slid her white underwear down to her knees, lifting her legs so he could flick them all the way off. He spread her legs and settled himself behind her.

 

She started to feel sick.

 

She cried out when he thrust into her abruptly, his hands on the inside of her thighs, spreading them out more.

 

“Is this how he fucked you?” Alexander asked in a throaty, guttural way. Barely human. Breathless. Jennifer closed her eyes and hung her head low between her shoulders, a few strands of hair stuck to the area around her mouth. She swallowed.

 

Yes.

 

He pulled out slowly until only the tip of his throbbing member lay snuggled in her velvety heat, and he thrust back in again until he was buried to the hilt. She cried out again, her hands gripping the cheap bed sheets. He blinked the moisture from his eyes and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. She wasn't enjoying it, he wasn't enjoying it.

 

He wanted to stop.

 

“Alex,” she mumbled, biting her lip. His hand went to the back of her head and pushed her face into the pillow to silence her.

 

He fucked her harder.

 

“I want to marry you, Alexander Craft.”

 

Her eyes twinkled as she looked down at his closed lids, her hands resting on his naked chest. She pushed stray strands of her dark brown hair out of her face and behind her ear so she could better admire his sleepy visage.

 

“You just want a diamond ring,” he muttered, his eyes still closed.

 

He wrapped his arms around her naked form, lying on top of him on their plushy bed, and he rolled them over, sandwiching her underneath him. She laughed lightly, her hands coming up to draw swirly patterns on his shoulder blades. She loved the smell of their room. It smelled like...them. Together.

 

“You don't have to buy me a diamond ring,” she told him, “I love you so much, Alex. I just want to be yours.”

 

He opened his eyes and one of his eye brows rose quizzically, “You already are...”

 

He buried his face in his hands, sitting naked on the edge of the bed with his hunched back to her. They were both sweaty and silent, only the fan on the ceiling above them screeched slightly as it swung its circles. Jennifer lay on her stomach, spent and sore on the other side of the small bed. Her eyes were downcast and her heart was aching.

 

“I'm sorry.” He finally told her. “I'm all fucked up.”

 

“It's okay,” she said quietly.

 

He spun around, his eyes fiery, “No, it's not!” He was suddenly out of breath.

 

Jennifer rolled onto her back and looked up at the rotating fan. She licked her lips in thirst. Now what? She had just re-lived her rape with the one she loved and trusted more than anything. She had kept reminding herself that it was Alexander that had been doing it to her, because, in the smallest way, he was still gentle with her. But it had still felt like Ryunosuke, and that was what hurt her the most. She never wanted anything to come between herself and Alex; they had been through so much already and she was convinced that they would be able to get past what happened to her. She was sure.

 

“I don't know why I treated you like that,” he said quietly. He looked at her in the silence; “You're beautiful.”

 

At that moment Alexander had confirmed her confidence in their bond. She saw the love in his eyes that was only for her. Jennifer reassured him again, “It's okay.” She understood fully the stress he had been under for so long.

 

“Stop saying that. It's not.” He turned his back to her again, “I'm so fucked up.”

 

He heard her shift on the bed and predicted the soft touch at his back, the warm, comforting hug that came next. “I still love you,” she told him. With all her heart. He covered her hands at his waist with his and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and taking in her calming presence. She kissed the back of his neck. Abruptly, he stood, drawing a small gasp from his girlfriend. As he bent over to grab his briefs, Jennifer's heart dropped; he was leaving again. “Where are you going?” she asked, her hands reaching out for him. He buckled up his belt and swung his shirt over his shoulder, turning to her and taking her smaller hands in his.

 

He stared into her deep brown, almost green eyes.

 

“I'm going to rip his fucking heart out.”

 

 

***

 

“It has gotten too dangerous, Kouchou-sensei.”

The principal of Agate High School swiveled his office chair to regard his vice. What a school year. The disappearance of Sato Yuu. Ryoji Kaji's unexpected suicide. Rumors. Rapists. Murder. Unacceptable.

 

“The board is voting on the closure of the school tomorrow.” The publicity had gotten too far out of hand. The panic. “I advise you announce the situation publicly yourself to avoid them overthrowing you anyway. You would only be confirming the very obvious problem.” The tall vice-principle straightened his glasses and held his clipboard to his chest. “We need to get these students somewhere safe.”

 

The principal swiveled his chair around again and looked out a large window, “Very well.” It overlooked the entire school; empty and depressing. More clouds settled overhead. “Get Nagara in here.”

 

“Sir,” The vice principal gave an apologetic bow, “Nagara Ryunosuke has disappeared also.”

 

He couldn't see the principal's face, but the dejected tone of his voice gave enough away. “Find him.” The middle-aged man rubbed his temples, willing away the stress of the situation.

 

The vice principal gave another bow before he left, the click of the closing door echoing in the room. The light from the window caught the dust particles in the air, floating around books and award cabinets. A sigh resounded through the organized room.

 

“What beast is at work here?”

 

***

 

“Chi! Breakfast!”

Chidori walked down the hallway upstairs, pausing for a moment at the door to the guest room before she made her way down the steps and into the kitchen where her husband stood by the stove flipping pancakes. She smiled, her beautiful blue eyes brightening at the sight. The tiles on the floor were cold on her bare feet as she tip-toed to Artemis, wrapping her arms around him and licking a stray bead of sweat from his neck.

 

He turned that deadly smirk on her and she felt her knees go a bit wobbly.

 

“Orange or apple juice?” he asked, jutting his chin out to point to the two jugs on the dining table already set for two. The day's heat was settling in and the temperature was going up, making little beads of water condense and run down the tall jugs, pooling on the polished wood.

 

“Orange!” She exclaimed with a smile, “It's so nice of you to make breakfast.” Entreri's eyes softened at the sight of her, until he remembered why he wasn't at work not cooking her breakfast. He had taken the day off. He needed to stay home to protect Chidori and her cousin. He frowned.

 

That boy couldn't be trusted.

 

Upstairs, Ryunosuke heard the sound of cutlery against china as Naomi's relatives enjoyed their pancakes. He let out a sigh, lifting a hand to scratch his chin and rub the rough stubble there. The fan overhead hypnotized him into a stare while he continued to fall for the girl sleeping naked on his chest. There, after staying awake all night, his hands resting on the petal soft skin of her back, he had come to some conclusion about his feelings for Arai Naomi. He had decided.

 

He was startled from his inner musings when she stirred; not opening her eyes but reaching up to run a finger along his prickled jaw line. She smiled against his bare chest when she felt his lips beneath her fingertips, his tongue at the tip of her index finger. He took the dainty appendage into his mouth and sucked on it softly so that it made a little `pop' when he released it. Naomi opened her eyes and yawned, stretching out over his hard, naked body before she relaxed again into his warmth.

 

Ryunosuke wrapped his arms around her, noticing how his dark skin contrasted with her light, creamy tone, and spoke. His voice was tired and croaky and he had to clear his throat before he could say anything, causing a nice rumble that went through his chest and into Naomi.

 

“Ohayo.”

 

“Mornin',” she replied, her cheek on his collarbone.

 

He stared down at the top of her head and gave into the urge to bury his hand in the silky black mass that was her hair. Naomi hummed at the feeling of his fingers on her scalp and she propped herself up on her elbows so she could face him for the first time since he had collapsed onto her much earlier that morning. A small plate covered in crumbs was next to them on the surface of a bedside table.

“Ryuuu,” she murmured; his name like honey on her lips.

 

His gaze flicked to her mouth as she spoke the word and she was suddenly conscious of it, pushing her tongue out to lick her lips. She took a moment to take in his appearance, that ruffled mass of hair, free of the god forsaken headset of earphones that was always half hidden in it. Her eyes trailed lower to his left ear, pierced with a small silver hoop at the top, then to the messy sideburn of short hairs that trailed a little along his jaw. His cheeks were a little pink. She never got bored of looking at him. She leaned in, her face hovering over his and her hair flicked over to one side.

 

Ryunosuke couldn't tolerate staring at her like that; her neck bared and her expression so lusty and satisfied, so he closed the small distance between their noses and kissed her. He'd cry if he was ever denied the taste of her, the feel of her soft, curvy body against his own.

Naomi pushed down the little excited girl inside her that kept on screaming `I love you!' She was too scared of the soaring sensation that had overcome her, the beautiful hope. She was absolutely terrified of it. If she let herself get too high, the harder she would fall when she remembered that the profound sentiment was not mutual.

 

Her hands moved automatically while their tongues played - one in his unruly hair and the other tracing the string of black beads around his neck. She broke their kiss to watch her fingertip float over the dark cross lying on his chest. He laid back, his head sinking further into the pillow, and he let her. He had decided. Anything that was his belonged to her. And then she asked.

 

“Where did you get it?”

He shot up in an instant, knocking Naomi off the side of the bed, as a sharp scream, shrill and violent, tore through his ears.

 

She scrambled back up to him, “Ryu!?” Her hands were on his leg as she knelt on the floor by his side and she just watched him, waiting for him to offer some explanation. He just sat there, panting, taking his time to realize that it had been his sick imagination again.

 

“Sorry,” he said, leaning over to help her up onto the bed, “I thought I heard something.”

The worried expression didn't disappear completely, “What did you hear?”

Ryunosuke's adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, “Nothing. Don't worry about it.”

 

Of course he was lying. Arai Naomi knew when to not push the subject with him. “Okay.” They stayed like that for a while; with her in his lap and his hands at her waist, running up and down her sides.

“I got it when I was real little.” He told her, looking down to indicate the rosary.

 

She blinked and stared at the obsidian cross and the smooth string of beads it hung from, “Oh.”

“Okaasan. She gave it to me.” He laughed softly, “With a bible.” His hand came up between them to rest the cross in his palm. “She was Christian. She told me I should always wear it; keep God close to my heart because God keeps you safe,” he added, “if you believe.” His dark, dark eyes were locked onto it, “I haven't taken it off since.”

Naomi's lips curved into a sweet smile, “It must be very important to you.”

 

Tenderness seized the agent's heart.

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, and looked up at her. He let his hand drop, releasing the cross and letting it fall and dangle over his chest once again. He kissed her. He couldn't help himself. When they parted her eyes were still closed, as if to better savor the feeling, so he stared at her eyelids. She felt something around her neck, and by the time Naomi had opened her eyes, Ryunosuke was smiling with his hands on her shoulders. Surprise dawned on her beautiful features when she realized the rosary was dangling over her chest. He hushed her when she opened her mouth to protest, “I want you to have it.”

“But--”

 

“It'll keep you safe,” he said.

Her heart welled up with love for him again, and she let herself get lost in it and ignore what her head kept saying, “Oh, Ryu, please take it back, I can't accept this.”

 

“Yes you can,” he told her. “I love you.”

Hear head whipped up, her eyes blinking in amazement and she forgot to keep breathing. Had she just imagined it?

 

A call came from downstairs and Ryunosuke's head shot to the window, suddenly aware of many things; breakfast was long over and there was an eerie silence coming from the bottom floor of the house. The sun was well in the sky. He tuned his ears to the light footfalls of ten men in the front yard outside, to Chidori at the foot of the stairs, worried and biting her lip. The man called Artemis Entreri was at the front door, talking to someone. A familiar voice. Someone from Ro.

 

Kuso.

 

“What is it?” Naomi asked, touching his face.

 

“I have to go.” He took her small hand and squeezed it lightly before he dropped it on the bed. He didn't listen to anything she said after that. He only dressed, swung his black backpack over his shoulder and left her without looking back.

 

Entreri's icy gaze met him at the bottom of the stairs.

 

“They're here for you,” he simply said. He took a step to the side, leaving the doorway free and revealing a man covered in black. Ryunosuke knew what was coming. He gave Chidori a short bow as if to say thank you and he nodded when his eyes met her husband's. He could feel them following his every move as he made his way slowly to the doorway, the man in black maintaining his very serious, official face. Beyond him, Ryunosuke could see others, only their faces were covered by helmets, their identities shielded.

 

As soon as he stepped through doorway, the door behind him closed and he was left with Ro. He took a deep breath and continued down the paved walkway past the first official until he was surrounded.

 

So it begins.

 

“Do we have your co-operation?” he was asked by one of the clones.

He nodded. There was no point in wasting his energy trying to get away. The soldier began to step towards him, and Ryunosuke stayed calm, fully intending to go with them for whatever it was they needed him.

 

A brute force registered in the back of his head when he was knocked to the ground, on his knees in the grass of the front garden. Two men quickly secured his hands behind his back with cuffs or something stronger. His head was down, searing with the pain a hit from a hammer would bring, and he heard footsteps behind him, coming round to face him. The black boots crunched in the fresh grass.

 

“Amekou,” he surmised.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” came Alexander's reply. Ryunosuke slowly lifted his head, his neck straining with the effort it took, to see the American tear his helmet off. His hair was a mess underneath it, and sweat ran slowly down the pulsing vein at his right temple. He was furious. And what a picture! He stood there, more than 6 feet tall, towering over the kneeling Ro agent. He blocked out the sun and cast a shadow over his partner. Not an ounce of sympathy was in his visage. Only rage.

 

“Amekou, listen -”

 

“SHUT UP!” Alexander yelled, raising a heavy boot to kick Ryunosuke in the ribs. “You're going to be locked away for the rest of your piece of shit life for what you've done!”

 

“Just listen!”

 

“NO!” he roared, clenching his fists at his sides. “I should kill you!” he grabbed at the holster on his waist, reveling in the feeling of his gun in his hand, “I should kill you!” The harsh metallic smell of weapon met Ryunosuke's nose as Alexander shoved the gun roughly against the center of his forehead. The Japanese boy lowered his eyes, defeated, and there was silence between them; Alexander breathing heavily and trying to ignore the headache that was splitting his brain in two. He swallowed and repeated himself, only this time with less conviction, as he slowly relaxed his finger on the trigger and lowered his gun. “I should kill you.”

 

Alexander searched his partner for that good that he truly believed Ryunosuke had inside him.

 

“Kyoudai,” Ryunosuke said under his breath just loud enough for Alexander to hear.

 

Ryunosuke offered him nothing else. He kept his eyes on the ground.

 

“Brothers?” Alexander spat, ignoring the sting of tears.

 

He motioned for the others to take the traitor away and they closed in on Ryunosuke, their shadows covering his crouched form. He turned his back to them, closing his eyes and wiping the sweat off his brow with a gloved hand. “Wait,” he told them in the morning air, and the agents froze, leaving Ryunosuke kneeling on the grass. Alexander tightened his grip on his gun once more, spinning around on his heel.

 

He pistol-whipped his brother across the head.

 

 

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To be continued...

 

 

A/N: There! Now I can finally get back to work! Sorry for the wait guys, but don't expect the next chapter any time soon, school is really riding me at the moment >< Thanks for all the feedback! It really helps getting me motivated.