Rukawa stumbled through the streets, a bottle in one hand, his face flushed as the harsh, cold wind beat against it. The sky was dark, foreboding, and a fog had settled over the streets, making visibility poor. But Rukawa didn't care. The atmosphere matched his mood perfectly. He stumbled and fell to his knees, grunting as pain shot through him. He took a swig from the bottle, cherishing the burning warmth that it provided as it slid down his throat and touched home in his belly. Ah. The only warmth in his life. He got up and continued down the street, not really sure where he was going, and knowing that he didn't really care. He would go wherever his feet took him and find some way to survive. Right now, the only thing he needed was his bottle and a street to walk down.
It took his mind a few moments to process the fact that he had no clue where he was. He had never ventured into this part of town, had known better, would still know better if he were sober. But the whiskey was not only warming him, it was also clouding his judgment. He stopped and tried to think of how many bottles he had consumed. No more than two. After all, Rukawa Kaede was no drunk. He hiccuped. Then again, maybe he had had more than two. He shrugged and continued down the street, trying to walk in a straight line. He looked down at the line painted on the road to tell drivers where their lane ended and the next began. He put one foot on it, then another in front of it, walking slowly with his arms stretched out to the sides, teetering back and forth. He hiccuped again and took a swig, stumbling off the line and onto the curb. He fell down and laughed.
He stopped short and giggled again. When was the last time he'd laugh? Come to think of it, when was the last time he expressed any emotion? He giggled and fell back onto his elbows, hand still wrapped protectively around the neck of the bottle. Gee, why was he so vacant? Was that the right word? More like stony. He nodded.
"Yea, I'm a real tight ass." He said aloud, and marveled at the sound of his voice. There was something to be said about remaining silent all the time. After a while, you begin to forget what you sound like.
"Not to mention your breath begins to stink." Rukawa giggled again, not really knowing whether or not that was true but liking the way it sounded. Especially the word "stink".
"Well, let's get this stinkin' stage coach rollin'." He slurred, pushing himself up and stumbling forward. He fell forward, tripping over his own two feet, which had never seemed so big and obtrusive before. He sat up slightly and propped his head up with one hand, craning his neck around to stare at his feet, which seemed very far away. He wiggled one to make sure they were really his. When the action ran through his foot, he shrugged and pushed himself up.
"Oi. Not as spry as I was when I was sober." He hiccuped and looked at the bottle, noting it was empty. "Damn. Time to raid gram pappy's medicine cabinet." It came out sounding like, "Tim to rid grim peppy's med-i-cine cab-e-nit." He licked his lips and seemed to notice for the first time the way the wind bit through his lightweight jacket and shirt. He shivered and wished for the warmth of the whiskey. Hell, for a moment he thought he would even enjoy the warmth of his apartment.
He shook his head. *No*, he thought, *she might be there.* She being the one person in the position to hurt him. And she had, of course. Rukawa sneered as he continued his never-ending walk. He should have known. Humans were all alike. They were kind when they wanted, but the second something came along that would possibly make their lives better, they went to any lengths to have it...including hurting those people that they supposedly loved. He rolled ice-blue eyes, feeling the same old pain pierce through his chest. The real kicker was that he had actually cared about this girl, deeply. Or so he thought. The truth was that he had fallen for a girl that didn't exist. The girl he loved had turned out to be a mask that hid the selfish shell that turned out to be his girlfriend. Scratch that, his now *ex*-girlfriend.
Rukawa stopped at the sight of a lit window. A neon sign hung in the window, declaring that the pub was indeed open. Rukawa headed towards it, ignoring the cold that seeped into his bones and made him ache. All he could think about was warmth, the kind provided by a bottle. His mind strayed and began to wonder if he was becoming a drunk, but he ignored it, determined to drink until the pain was no longer there.
He threw open the door and stumbled inside, quickly shutting it.
The patrons turned and looked at him. Some looked as if they had never seen another person in their life. Others gave him an almost predatorial look. He swallowed, his tongue feeling thick, his head suddenly pounding.
Ignoring their looks, he walked to the bar and sat down. Their gazes never wavered. The bar tenant looked at him with an arched eyebrow. Rukawa made eye contact and quietly gasped.
The man was stunning, true. His physique was incredible. Muscles rippled under his skin that Rukawa thought might break free of their imprisonment at any moment. He was tall, his hair shaggy and falling across his forehead, into his eyes.
His eyes were what Rukawa couldn't believe; a stunning brown-silver blend that was unmatched by anything he had ever seen. As if someone had taken the dirt from the earth and thrown it up in a starlit sky, the stars mixing themselves into the grains of brown earth.
His gaze wandered to his mouth and he nearly threw up. His canine teeth poked through his lips, and they were covered with a thick red substance.
*That ain't ketchup...* The only remaining working part of his brain thought.
His voice was working without him. "Whiskey." He found himself saying quietly, his gaze fixed on the bar attendant?s teeth.
"Whiskey?" He burst out laughing, and Rukawa saw that all of his teeth were stained red. The bar tender stopped laughing and his voice came out a growl. "We ain't got none o' dat 'ere."
Rukawa felt confusion sweep through him, but mostly it was panic. Panic at the way the bar tender was looking at him. He turned around and noticed that most of the people in there were giving him that same hungry gaze.
"You know, it ain't often dat fresh meat come in 'ere off da street like dat." He grinned. "You makin' it mighty easy for us."
Rukawa gulped and felt an overwhelming urge to run wash through him. His only fear was that if he tried to run in his drunken state that he might get personal with a wall in the process.
"What you boys say? Should we show 'im what we serve in 'ere?"
A chorus of affirmatives rose up as the patrons began to move forward, surging up from their chairs. Rukawa turned to the side and was about to run when many hands began to grab his arms. He kicked and punched like crazy, wishing that he had taken his mother up on those self-defense classes.
He doubt they would have helped much, considering these guys were strong. One of them picked him up off the floor as if he were nothing and threw him on the table. He felt something sharp come in contact with his head, followed by a warm feeling on the back of his neck. He was bleeding.
One of the girls came forward and grabbed him by the forearms, bending him over and running her tongue along his neck, making a noise akin to a purr. "Mmmm..."
Rukawa felt bile rise up in his throat as he realized that she was licking up his blood. He became tense as they crowded around him.
"You picked da wrong place ta stumble inta, kid." The bar tender said, smiling savagely as he wiped a glass clean. "Tough break."
The...things...surged in toward him, all with the same colored eyes, brown-silver, all with the same look, a predatorial hunger, coming towards him, holding him down, ripping off his shirt and pulling at his hair to tilt his head, exposing his neck. He felt his stomach churn as they surrounded him, sharp teeth filling his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited.
...And waited. He heard a thump, followed by many more in rapid session, each one followed by a growl and a muttered curse.
"Dammit, Sakuragi, what the Hell are you doing?" One voice, a high, screechy female one, growled. Rukawa opened his eyes and sat up, noticing that all the patrons were leaning against the wall, groaning and growling.
One boy...man...was standing in the middle of the room, his eyes the same as theirs, but with no sharp, foreboding teeth in sight. He glared at the room collectively, his coppery eyebrows pulled down low over his eyes. His hair was the color of a pyre, and Rukawa felt his heart jump.
Of course, it could have been his stomach churning, but Rukawa was in no state to tell the difference. He felt a pain shoot through his chest as he sat up. He looked down and saw scratches in no particular pattern all down his chest, his shirt and jacket in shreds.
"What's makes you think this kid ain't someone important?" The one that the girl addressed as Sakuragi asked, pointing smoothly to Rukawa. "You want a bunch of people looking for him? They're eventually going to find his body, and, oh look, autopsy reports find that the blood has been sucked from his body." His hands flew to his cheeks in mock drama. "And suddenly, people get suspicious." He glared again. "And you all know as well as I that suspicious people are dangerous. Especially when they get together and start talking. Especially when they're superstitious."
"Stay outta this, inbreed."
Sakuragi turned his head sharply, and the person that had spoken, a big, burly man, flew up into the air, suspended between floor and ceiling by some unseen force. Sakuragi tipped his head to one side in a quick motion, and the man went flying towards the wall, slamming into it with such a force that the walls shook.
"Anyone else have any choice names to call me?" He roared, his face turning a slight shade of red. A mumbled reply went through the bar as people began to stand up and brush themselves off. "Thought not."
"So, Sakuragi, if we can't drain him, we just let him go? Free to run around the streets and tell others about us?"
Sakuragi glared at the girl that spoke and she backed away. "You leave him to me. The rest of you, if you want a drink, get one at the bar." With those words spoken, he stripped off his jacket and walked to Rukawa.
Rukawa felt a presence in his mind as Sakuragi looked at him.
*You are relaxing now. No one will hurt you, I promise. Sleep. This is all a dream, and when you wake up, you won't remember a thing.*
Rukawa's eye felt heavy. As he closed them, he felt Sakuragi's arms around him, wrapping him up in his jacket and carrying him. Where to, he didn't care. All he knew was that he suddenly was too tired to think. Too tired to do anything but sleep. And think about the soothing voice that continued to speak to him through his dreams.
TBC