Sweet blood.
Crimson, thick and hot, trembled in his mouth. Copper-sweet, but
not his own tang....he did not know the taste of his own blood. Only his. He
remembered the first time....
"Stop it! That hurts!" Children, the cruelest
predators of all. Sharp hair-pull, bright blossom of red-flash pain. Fibers ripping from
his scalp, laughter like shards of falling glass. There would be no screams. Protests,
anger, always, but he would not scream. That sacred sound was not for them.
"Get away from him!" Whirling dervish, fury, righteous,
the butterfly dancing on spiked wings. Leaves scatter, and he is alone. Water trickles
over his cheek--no, not water. Fingertips, cool and boy-smooth. A stranger, worried, touch
sparking bright against the black canvas of his closed lids. Why could he see him through
his lids?
Standing. It did not hurt to be different anymore, with this
brown-eyed savior glowing at his side. Close and far. Bloodbound, and he did not even know
his name. Pink tongue-tip tasting scarlet, electric metallic flavor. "You're
hurt."
Kojiro's blood in his mouth. Never did he stop tasting it, even
as his own flooded heavy syrup over his tongue. He could not release the
sweetness....could not release him. He had to save him. Call the demons, Kojiro...call
the demons.....God-child, unknowing. So many god-children, and Akito was alone again.
The shelter of brown eyes taken from him by years and distance, and now god-child fought
god-child...Kojiro would die. He had wanted to destroy them, and keep his bloodbound to
himself.
Akito saw dark feathers. Falling, drifting, torn from wings that
had enfolded him, held him safe. Felt the feathers slipping through his fingers even as he
ripped them out. Still no screams. He had killed Kojiro. Heartbeats drummed, one slowed. I
needed his life. Needed to own it.
He coughed, and more sweetness flushed from him. He was
faltering. He had killed Kojiro, now he must save him or the Kunitsu would consume his
brown-eyed god-child. Eyes like brown sugar, sweet and delicious, dimmed by the blue of
the god-essence. He had seen it even before the other had been lost.
"For a minute there I thought you weren't glad to see
me." False smile cracking a porcelain mask, and the fragile house of cards comes
tumbling down. Blue sheen like glass clouding brown sugar, sweet words hollow and painful.
"Of course I'm glad to see you. It's been a long time,
Akito." Bloodbinding bears truth of falsehood, and coppery sweetness on his tongue
once more. Salt wet on cheeks, and the dappling of wire fencing caught in the sunset
orange. Red blossoms across the sky, and he tastes blood.
Weakness. The Master Ose had called it weakness, Ose and Gageson.
But Gageson had taken him, birdbright eyes glittering with death. Gageson had murdered
passion in a shower of wilted white petals. Everything dies and blossoms, blossoms and
dies, dies and blossoms again.
He would blossom again in Kojiro.
Coolness of steel sliding through flesh, ritual sword running
with the taste of scarlet. The other god-child waited, obscene in her nudity, flowing with
life energy. Saki...she had been the center, but not the focus. Now she was the anchor.
Call the demons, Kojiro....Paint-splatters. Warm
paint-splatters on cool feminine flesh. Whispered words, arcane, and crimson flavor became
smoke. Symbols burned on vision, red, red, always in red. She breathed, and slow flame
consumed him.
I gave this for you, Kojiro.
Akito? Is that you?
Yes, Kojiro. The pain was like water, taking the place of
the ebbing tide of his life. He fed Saki. Bloodbound held godchild held godchild, and life
returned. It was beautiful. Can you feel me, Kojiro? Can you feel me inside of you?
He could not see anymore--not through his own eyes. Violet light dimmed, and limp white
fingers released occult-blessed steel.
He saw through eyes of brown sugar.
I can feel you, Akito....Words like a kiss. Like rain. He
melted like candy in the rain, and again the rain tasted of copper.
I gave myself to you, Kojiro. So that you might live.
There was so little left now....and the bloodbond reached for him.
He screamed. The blessed sound for him alone, and the
memory of boy-smooth fingertips caressed his burning cheek. Blossoming within brown sugar,
blush-red rose petals.
Bittersweet vermilion, and he died in a wash of becoming. I'm
still inside of you, Kojiro. Pushing the blue-glazed glass aside, and he saw. Passion
warmed. Always. Lips parted, and he tasted salt. Tasted red. Dissolved...and tasted
his own blood. Kojiro tasted of him...
I have blossomed.
