X/1999 Fan Fiction ❯ Entrapment ❯ Entrapment ( Chapter 5 )
Entrapment
#5
*Kamui POV
"Why?" I asked again. Fuuma's face darkened. He got off the bed and sat on the velvet wing chair near the windows. He reached into his pocket and took out a small and embellished box. I watched as he rubbed it with his finger, and he smiled as he looked up at me. "Fuuma…" I whispered. He held up the box for me to see. It was made for a ring, with gold lining at its edges, a small red jewel encrusted on the cover. The box itself was a scarlet shade, making the gold stand out. He opened it and took out a small ruby ring. It's cutting was unique, and the ring was silver. He played with it in the light, and he suddenly dropped it on the floor.
He reached down to pick it up, when I got it for him. I then saw red streaks sliding down his cheeks. I frowned and pulled him close to me. "Fuuma…"I whispered again. "What's wrong?" He didn't answer, he just kept on sobbing quietly. "Fuuma," I said softly, tilting his chin to face me. My fingers wiped away the blood that stained his face. Strands of his hair fell to his face. He looked so…vulnerable. I wanted to cry with him, but I had to be strong, I had to be strong for him. He stained my shoulder, but I didn't care about that then. I could always take a bath.
"Fuuma, tell me, what's wrong?" I asked him again and again, but he won't answer me. He had finally settled down, and he took my hand and led me to the bathroom. The blood dried on his cheeks, and I wanted so much to clean it for him, but he insisted that I take a bath while he washed his face. I entered the shower, still quite depressed and confused. Fuuma had been so close, and what was his past? Who was that ring for? Or who gave it to him? I knew Fuuma couldn't read my mind, so I let it be. He seemed to know what I was thinking anyway, and he ruffled my hair and smiled. "You don't have to know."
I stared at him for quite sometime, when he said, "Can't you even take a bath?" it wasn't mocking, just teasing. He gently shoved me into the shower, his hand stripping me of my boxers, putting on the water, which was icy. His hands were warm however. His hands were on my shoulders, massaging them a bit. I put my hand on his, and he nuzzled the back of my shoulder. He wrapped his left arm around my waist, his right hand on my right shoulder, sobbing quietly. The water was stained red.
"Fuuma…" I whispered. "Tell me…" He went silent for a moment. "What happened in your past…?" He lifted his head and bathed me some more. "I will tell you soon enough, Kamui," he said, lifting me up from the wet tiles of my bathroom.
He set me on the bed and threw me a towel. He soon sat down beside me, holding out a pair of shorts and underwear. I put them on, hastily, eager to hear his story. He reached for my hand, and he placed the ring on my palm. I stared at it. "This belonged to my fiancé." he stared at it longingly. "Her name was Sakura, just like Seishirou's child. She looked very much like you, just with long hair." He put his arm around me. "Many boys sought after her, lusted over her, but she chose me." he said sadly, his eyes dull and dream-like. "Her eyes were less radiant than yours, Kamui. Her eyes were a duller shade of purple. Her skin was a bit tanned, her fingers long and her figure slender." I could fell his arm trembling. "Seishirou…he…he…murdered her…so I would stay with…him…" he said this with hate, hate I presumed that was for Seishirou. I let my head fall against his shoulder.
"Tell me, Fuuma. I may be able to help you forget her. Tell me how she died, hoe Seishirou killed her and why." Fuuma looked away. The sun had risen, and I could hear the people from next-door opening and closing doors, thinking of things they would do for the day. "I will never forget her," he said softly, sadly. "Because you are the living version of her." I frowned. "But Fuuma, I am Kamui, not Sakura. I don't want to be someone's replacement, Fuuma. I don't like to be and don't mean to." I said almost crossly, pulling away from him. He seemed very much saddened by this, my pulling away from him. He seemed hurt and innocent, which he was not. I stared at him sadly as he said, "Maybe you're right, Kamui. Maybe I am using you as Sakura's replacement. I won't blame you if you left me. If I were you, I'd do exactly that." The hurt in his voice was increasing, though not a blood tear stained his face.
I smiled and put my arms around him. "I'll never leave you, Fuuma. I love you, remember? I was just hurt that you didn't see me as Kamui, but as Sakura. I'm sorry. I'll never say that again." I kissed his cheek, and he returned the embrace warmly and passionately. "Kamui, you are Kamui. My Kamui…" he said softly. "My beloved Kamui…Not Sakura…" I smiled. "Not Sakura…but Kamui…" he repeated this a few times. "I was surprised Seishirou didn't see you as Sakura," he said softly. "Seishirou…" he whispered again. He held me tighter. "I hate him." I watched him as he wiped the tears away. "Let me tell you my past, if you want to know." he said softly, a tone barely audible. I nodded, eager for a story.
***
"Fuuma!" Sakura called from the hall, pulling up her scarf on the way. "Fuuma, are you ready?" she called again. Fuuma walked out of his room dressed in a nice black overcoat with a white silk blouse and black silk pants underneath. His hands were busy trying to tie a little bow around his neck. "Are you ready?" He asked, watching Sakura brush up on her gloss as he finally finishes with the bow. Sakura nodded. "Almost, Darling." She kissed him on the lips and went into the parlor, picking up the beads Fuuma had bought for her the other day that lay on the table. Fuuma followed his lover into the parlor, and offering her a hand, they strolled out the door.
"Seishirou's meeting us at the theatre, isn't he?" Sakura asked impatiently, as they got on the carriage. Fuuma nodded, and looked out the window, as the horses started moving. He smiled thinking how much he loved Sakura, how much Seishirou loved him to let her stay. "Sakura…?" Fuuma said softly. Sakura leant against his shoulder and smiled. "Yes, I love you Fuuma." she kissed him on the cheek and he smiled. "I love you too." For the past few days, Fuuma and Sakura slept together, talked together, ate together… They did almost everything together. Then one night…
"Seishirou…?" Fuuma looked into Seishirou's room but doesn't find him. "Seishirou?" Fuuma called, he looked throughout the apartment, and when he returned to the room… "Fuuma…You were looking for me?" Seishirou's calm voice sent shivers throughout Fuuma's body. "Yes…" Fuuma replied softly. "I was wondering if I could take Sakura to the theatre tonight…" Fuuma added after a few seconds of silence. "Go." Seishirou replied coldly, as if he hated it when Fuuma talked of Sakura. Fuuma retreated to his room when Seishirou caught his hand. Fuuma didn't turn to look at Seishirou's face. "What…? Now that you've got that woman…you won't even look at your master's face?" Seishirou mocked, his voice like venom that seemed to have already entered Fuuma's blood stream. Fuuma turned to look at the golden-eyed man. " No sir. I would never be brave enough to do so." Seishirou didn't like Fuuma's tone. It seemed bored and inattentive. "So it is true…" Seishirou dug deep into his mind, and found the truth. "So it is true that she had asked you to leave with her to Naples. Well this is what I have to say; you will never leave me."
Fuuma tensed and freed himself from Seishirou's grasp, striding back into his own room. `He doesn't understand…' Fuuma thought quietly, his eyes moving uneasily across the room. His eyes widened. " Sakura…" He said softly, rushing out to the parlor. The door clicked open, and Sakura strolled in with her bag held daintily in her hands. "Sakura…" Fuuma rushed over to embrace the girl, and the girl responded warmly. Sakura's brown hair smelt sweet, like roses, her perfume adding to that sweet scent. Fuuma kissed her roughly, and brought her to their room. Night was darkening outside. "Seishirou won't let me leave." He whispered, watching Sakura as she took off the tight dress she was wearing and put on something more comfortable. "What do you mean he won't let you leave?" Sakura whispered back, her amethyst eyes glinting in the moonlight. "He is too attached to me…" Fuuma said, his golden eyes looking away from the violet orbs. "Then make him not attached to you!" She said, taking his hand and putting it against her face. "How?" Fuuma watched Sakura as she rolled her eyes. "By doing bad…" she replied, beginning to kiss the pale hand in her grasp. Fuuma pulled away. "Not now, Sakura."
Seishirou sat in his room, amused by the conversation he could hear very well. "Bad eh? Fuuma hasn't tested my patience yet…has he…" He whispered to himself, laughing softly.
***
Fuuma didn't make coffee the next morning for the other boys. Fuuma didn't go to collect the book Seishirou had ordered. Fuuma didn't go out shopping for groceries. He spent the whole morning and afternoon with Sakura, chatting about how beautiful Naples was. Night…
Seishirou strolled in and asked for the boys to come before him. All except Fuuma obeyed. "Where's Fuuma?" He asked softly. No one answered. Seishirou smiled. He strolled in front of Fuuma's door to find it locked. He broke it open with one kick. Fuuma was sitting with Sakura at the balcony, having tea and Sakura stared at Seishirou with shock and disdain. Fuuma tried to avoid contact with Seishirou's honey colored eyes, but failed. He loved Seishirou, but he loved Sakura more. How…?
"Fuuma…Come here…" Seishirou said in his most tender voice. "No," Sakura replied for her lover. Seishirou watched the woman come forward. "I wasn't talking to you, bitch." Sakura took a step back. Fuuma looked up in surprise and anger. He got off the porcelain chair and walked in front of Sakura. He looked up at the towering figure. "Never call Sakura a bitch." He hissed, glaring up at Seishirou. The others were behind the master, watching. Seishirou raised his hand. "Leave." He told the boys, and leave they did. "Madame, if you continue to disrupt me and Fuuma, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave." Seishirou said firmly, watching the woman behind his `child'. "Then I go to, Seishirou. I'm not leaving her go."
Seishirou's eyes spoke a language of poison. "Really." His voice was calm, patient. "Then she will leave you." He whispered, and he left the room. Fuuma took Sakura's hand and kissed it, muttering an apology. Sakura caressed Fuuma's face. "It's alright." She whispered, and she let him let go of her and put the door back in place and shifted a cupboard behind it. Seishirou never came again the whole night.
The next night was quiet, and Fuuma woke to find Sakura gone. He convinced himself that Sakura went out, but he gave up on the idea when he saw blood on the floor. "Sakura?" He called, his voice panicked. The blood led into Seishirou's room. "Seishi-" He paused. He stared at the sight before him. Seishirou's face was half painted in blood, his frock coat stained and crimson, his colored a dark scarlet…and on the bed…on the bed…
"Sakura…" Fuuma stared at the corpse. "You…you killed…killed her…" He stuttered. He was angry. He was angry with hate. Yet he was scared. Scared and sorrowful. Seishirou walked over to Fuuma. He touched his pale cheek with the hand soaked in scarlet. "She left you." He whispered. Fuuma turned away. "No…you made her leave." He hissed, and he left. He left and didn't come back for five days. For five days he stayed on the streets, no money, no shelter.
The sixth night he came home, and Seishirou took him in his arms. "My poor child…" He whispered, and took him into his room. "From tonight I'll love you forever, and you will belong to no one else." He said, and Seishirou was about to bite into his neck. "Sakura…" A frail whisper escaped Fuuma's lips. Seishirou paused. He leaned close to Fuuma's ear. "You will forget Sakura. You will forget the times you spent together. You will only remember her name. In time…you will remember everything." He whispered, deleting Fuuma's memory temporarily. Fuuma fell into sleep after that.
***
He woke to find himself on top of Seishirou in an enclosed space. He groaned. Seishirou's eyes snapped open. "Good evening, Love." Seishirou whispered. Fuuma felt new… He felt fresh and hungry…a hunger that never bothered him ever before. "Evening…?" He whispered. He felt uncomfortable. "I slept through the whole of day?" He asked, Seishirou smiling and pushing him. He fell backward and hit the floor hard. "Seishirou…" He whispered, clutching his head. Seishirou picked him up and smiled. "Time to feed, baby."
***
I looked into his eyes. He looked to the blank television in front of the bed. I touched his face and moved it to face me. "Tell me… Would you trade me for her…?" He looked sadly at me. He didn't answer. "You would wouldn't you?" He looked away. I left him alone at the edge of the bed, and I tucked myself in. I didn't even say goodnight.
But as I drifted off, I heard a soft whisper of the words, "Yes…I would trade even you to get her back."
I angered.
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