Forced Silence - ParadiseAvenger - Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: The Nurse: Clean & White

Chapter Text

Thank you Emotionally Unstable Fangirl aka Nagging Winnie der Pooh for the idea for this story!

On with the show!

It was a busy night in the Emergency Room. Sakura was running on caffeine and cafeteria salad and that was all. Needless to say, she may have well have been running on empty. Finally, there was a slow spell and she had just stepped into the break room for a date with the espresso machine when the floor doctor dragged himself in as well.

“Dr. Fluorite?” She asked when he collapsed into a plastic orange chair.

Fai Fluorite, the night-shift floor doctor, was an affable friendly man with an inexhaustible smile and cheery blue eyes. Now, he had dark circles big enough to frighten crows and his mouth was pinched in a tight line. He scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed heavily.

“Doctor?” Sakura ventured again and put a second cup on espresso in front of him. “Hey, what is it?”

He sipped on the coffee weakly and that appeared to revive him a little. “Oh, Sakura, I’m sorry. It’s been a long night. Have a seat, I need to ask you a favor,” he said.

“Of course,” Sakura said and pulled back a chair. “What is it?”

“First, may I say, nice work with the druggie earlier this evening.”

Sakura couldn’t help but smile.

Said druggie was a twenty year old named Chet who had arrived high and delirious. He had been heatedly making out with a window and a wall support beam when another nurse had discovered him. When Chet was pulled away from his inanimate girlfriend, he proceeded to slug the nurse. It took four male nurses to restrain him, but even then he showed signs of escaping so Sakura drew a shot of sedative and stuck him in the ass.

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

Fai smiled. “You are one of my most brilliant nurses and also one of my kindest, that’s why I want you to do this.”

Sakura nodded and sipped her espresso. It needed some more sugar, but if she had anymore she’d be more wired than Chet. “What is it, Doctor?”

“Law enforcement just called. They have a severe case that’s going to need special care and concern,” Fai said quietly.

“Special Victims Unit?” Sakura asked.

Fai nodded. “A young man. He’s been missing for nearly two weeks and he’s in pretty bad shape. They’re flying him in within the hour,” he explained. He rubbed his eyes again. Fai suddenly looked very old, worn out, and exhausted.

“Doctor Fluorite?” Sakura asked.

“Sorry, Sakura, I’m a little tired.”

“I understand. Is your shift change coming?”

“Not for a while yet. I’ll just have another cup of coffee,” he said and tried to smile, but it was too strained. “Thank you for doing this, Sakura.”

“Do you know him, Doctor?” She asked.

Fai shook his head. “He’s the friend of a friend, but I looked over his file, Officer Kurogane faxed it to us, and…” He trailed off and actually looked physically ill. “They things he’s had done to him shouldn’t have been done to a corpse, none the less a human being.”

Sakura swallowed. “Do they have whoever did it behind bars?”

Fai shook his head. “No. The young man is to have police bodyguards until the bastard it caught,” he growled.

Sakura felt cold. She changed the subject. “Could I see the file?”

Fai nodded. “If you get some down time. It’s on my desk in my office. It’s open.” Then, he chugged his coffee, tossed the cup, and left the room.

Sakura was left staring into the depths of her black espresso for a long time.

“Sakura?” A skinny dark-haired woman poked her nose into the break room. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Tomoyo, what’s up?” Sakura asked and stood up quickly. She pitched her cup, still with the dregs in the bottom.

“Two things, no, actually, three,” Tomoyo said hurriedly as they paced down the hallway. “You’ve had a marriage proposal, Chet is awake again, and there’s a girl in room eighteen who needs twenty-seven stitches.”

“Twenty-seven? Where?”

“Her arm,” Tomoyo explained. “Her mother’s boyfriend cut her up. Her boyfriend brought her in a few minutes ago. I’ve stopped the bleeding, but Dr. Fai told me to let you stitch her up.”

Sakura nodded. “And my marriage proposal?”

“Mr. Cart,” Tomoyo said with a smile.

“Gross,” Sakura said. “Decrease his morphine drip. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What about Chet?” Tomoyo asked as they peeled apart at a bend in the hallway.

“He’s cute, Tomoyo,” Sakura called over her shoulder. “Just don’t let him bite you. Make sure he’s restrained and see if you can get a hold of somebody to pick him up.”

“But–”

“I’m sure you can handle it.”

Then, Sakura was in room eighteen.

The girl was maybe sixteen or seventeen with short-cropped black hair and a winning smile. Her face was pale and there was a lot of blood on her school uniform, but she appeared to be in good spirits. Her arm had been wrapped tightly with a field compress and she had an IV going into the back of her hand.

Her boyfriend was definitely seventeen with dark brown-reddish hair and a strong jaw. He was sitting next to her on the bed, not touching her, but cheating as they played a game of Go Fish. He looked up when Sakura entered, but the girl was a little out of it.

“Hi, I’m Sakura. I’m here to stitch you up,” she said as she read the clipboard Tomoyo had placed on the bedside table. “Yuzuriha and Ryuo,” she read out loud.

“I’m Ryuo, the boyfriend,” he volunteered. “I heard police were on their way to Yuzuriha’s house to arrest her mother’s boyfriend. Is that true?”

Sakura didn’t have an answer for him. “I’m sorry. This isn’t my floor,” she said. “I don’t know.”

“Oh…”

“Do you have a strong stomach, Ryuo?” Sakura asked as she began unwrapping the compress on Yuzuriha’s arm. Tomoyo had already given her something for the pain. “If not, you can leave the room. There’s a waiting area just down the hall.”

“I’m alright.”

Sakura found the thread and surgical pliers and finally peeled off the bandage. The wound was deep and ugly. It looked like she had been cut with a serrated blade of some sort, leaving the edges of the wound ragged and raw. If it became infected, the infection would be powerful and hard to beat. Sakura made a metal note to get her a tetanus shot if she wasn’t current and start her on some heavy duty antibiotics.

“Do you know what she was cut with?”

Ryuo shook his head. He looked pale.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Sakura asked when she glanced up at him.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Alright…”

Then, Sakura passed the needle through the edges of Yuzuriha’s torn flesh and pulled it taut. Yuzuriha hissed in half-realized pain and then Ryuo fainted. He fell off the bed and hit the floor with a thunk. Sakura finished stitching up Yuzuriha before asking a few nurses to help her lift Ryuo onto the empty bed next to her.

Then, she moved on to her next task.

She visited Mr. Cart and he proposed again. She graciously declined because his wife, a young lanky blonde, was glaring at her something fierce.

Finally, she checked on Chet where he was restrained in the hallway outside the third floor nurses’ station. He was thrashing and biting at her, but he couldn’t hurt himself so she left him be.

Returning to the break room, she had another half a cup of espresso and then, he arrived.

Just a fun little chapter to set up and get rolling.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 2: The Patient: Broken & Bloody

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Forgive me if this chapter seems a little choppy because I’m the cooking extraordinaire today. I’ve made Baked Macaroni and Cheese, Candied Yams aka Sweet Potatoes, Pork Fried Rice, and Corn Bread so I have to constantly rush back to the kitchen between dishes. And now everyone is hungry, so sorry!

“Sakura!”

Her head snapped up from where it was slumped on her chest so fast that her vision spun dizzily for a minute. “Tomoyo?” She asked when her friend’s face finally came into
focus. “How long was I out?”

“About six minutes. Don’t worry about it, but Dr. Fluorite said to get you,” Tomoyo said and worriedly twisted her long plait of black hair over her shoulder. “Your Special Case is here.” She said it in such a way that Sakura felt as if she was announcing the president.

Sakura scrambled to her feet and tucked a stray wisp of pale brown hair back into something that had once resembled a ponytail while she and Tomoyo hurried quickly down the hallway. Punching the up button on the elevator, they swiftly climbed four floors to the less occupied and quieter Trauma Ward. “Thanks for getting me Tomoyo,” Sakura said and pushed through the swinging doors.

She never heard her friend wish her good luck.

They had wheeled him in on a gurney and he was so surrounded by policemen that Sakura didn’t actually get to see his face until Fai peeled them off once he was safely in an empty room. Then, most of the officers went to stand outside the door. Only one remained in the room with Sakura and Fai.

“Sakura, this is Officer Kurogane,” Fai introduced.

“A pleasure,” Sakura said and inclined her head.

Kurogane grunted. He was a big and rather frightening formidable man. His black uniform was imposing and neat. The gun at his side was unfastened, but not drawn. Overall, Sakura wouldn’t have messed with him even if someone offered to pay her. He stared her down with crimson eyes so piercing that she may have well have been naked. She resisted the urge to squirm. Finally, Kurogane looked away.

“You trust her, Fai?” Kurogane asked. His voice was deep, but not unpleasant or threatening.

Fai nodded. “She’s the only nurse I would trust with a case like this. Sakura has a gentle hand,” he explained.

Sakura felt a blush coloring her cheeks.

Kurogane snapped his eyes to her. “Did you read the file?”

Sakura hadn’t gotten around to it. She had been too busy. “No,” she confessed. She felt like a moron, but Kurogane didn’t say anything.

He grunted and stepped away from the bed and Sakura caught her first glimpse of the young man. She swayed and Fai caught her by her shoulders.

“Sakura, it’s alright,” he murmured and steadied her.

Tears pricked at her eyes and he guided her to a chair at the young man’s bedside. She could only see his face and she shuddered to think of the state of the rest of his body. She almost had to put her head between her knees to stop the swell of nausea that crept up the back of her throat as a burn.

“Oh God,” she murmured.

Fai rubbed her back.

The youth’s face was like death. It was ash-pale and skeleton-thin. His eyes had sunken deeply into his sockets and his cheekbones jutted sharply out against his skin. All the tendons and muscles in his jaw were clearly outlined through his thin translucent skin. His veins were black beneath it.

Worse than that was the row of lacerations and infection around his flashing throat. Someone had put a collar on him, a collar that had to have had spikes on the inside to create such ugly grievous wounds. It was a miracle his jugular or carotid artery hadn’t been hit.

And worst were the bruises and cuts and burns all over his exposed skin. There were oozing black burned around his eyes and his mouth had been savagely sliced with medical precision. Bruises covered his chin and forehead and cheeks, black and sunflower yellow and pea soup green.

There were small thin cuts on his eyelids, upper and lower lids, and larger heavier ones around his mouth, two above and two below. His eyes and mouth had been stitched shut. Maybe with metal, maybe with thread, but they had been removed already.

He had been starved, beaten, tortured, and she didn’t care to think about what else.

“Sakura, come on. Why don’t you step outside with me for minute?” Fai asked, but gave her little choice. She was limp as he lifted her under her arms, wrapped one long arm around her waist, and led her out into the hallway.

The eyes of the police officers followed them, burning into her back.

Once she had taken a few gulps of fresh air, Sakura felt better.

“Sakura, are you alright?” Fai asked. “I’m sorry. I should have told you what you were getting into. That was unfair of me.”

Sakura took another deep breath.

“Do you need a glass of water or something?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said weakly.

“You don’t have to do it. I’ll take care of him myself,” Fai offered.

“No!” Sakura said quickly. “I can do it.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said finally and inhaled deeply again. “What’s his name?”

“Li Syaoran.”

She rolled the name through her head. A beautiful name, quiet, gentle.

“How could someone do something like that to another living being?” Sakura whispered.

Fai shook his head. “I don’t know and I hope never to know,” he said.

Sakura nodded and hugged the man. “Thank you, Dr. Fluorite,” she whispered. “I know I can help him. I can feel it…”

The doctor hugged her back. “I know you can,” he murmured. “That’s why I chose you.”

Alright, I’ve got peel and cut my potatoes now. According to Microsoft, potatos is not the proper spelling for potatoes. Tell me, does there really need to be an E?

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 3: The Silent Boy & The Night Nurse

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My potatoes are in the oven, peeled and sprinkled with brown sugar. Mac and cheese is cooling and I’ve eaten almost a third of it. Fried rice is in the fridge. Corn Bread is waiting for an empty pan. I’m ready to go and we’ll have enough leftovers to last the rest of the month.

Sakura worked methodically over his body, humming darkly to herself as she worked. She had already scraped beneath his fingernails, drawn some blood, clipped some hair samples, and swabbed his private areas and mouth for sem*n. The digital camera at her side was running low on batteries because of the countless wounds she had to photograph and she needed some more gauze pads to bandage his feet with, having used up her entire supply. Once the Sexual Assault Kit was finished and packed away in a cooler ready for Officer Kurogane to come by and pick up, Sakura sighed and cracked her aching neck.

Finally, Sakura pulled the sheet off him completely and lifted his limp body in her arms so she could wrestle some hospital issued garments onto his frame. He was rather uncooperative, whimpering and trembling the entire time. He even hit weakly at her, but landed no serious blow. Even unconscious, his eyes raced below his lids with dreams, nightmares, memories… Sighing deeply, Sakura covered him with the sheet, draped a heated blanket over him and tucked it around his sides, and adjusted his pillow.

Then, she gathered up the camera, her supplies, the kit, and the empty IV bag. The officers guarding the doorway peeked in at him as she left, but there was nothing she could do about that. Even police were nosy, but at least they were quiet.

Sakura rapped smartly on Fai’s office door, waited until he recognized her, and then stepped into the room.

“Sakura,” Fai said. “Have seat. Did you finish?”

She set the kit down on his desk with a sigh. “I’ve never seen anything so terrible,” she murmured.

“Paperwork?” Fai asked.

She handed him a sheaf. “Mm-hmm,” she muttered. “I noticed something strange, Dr. Fluorite.”

“Oh?”

“His entire body has been beaten severely, cut, and burned, but there’s something that’s been bothering me. All of the wounds could have proved fatal, but didn’t, like the ones around his neck. Also, despite the clear brutal beating, nothing was broken, not even a finger,” she explained. “It’s almost as if someone in the medical field did this to him.”

“Did you write this in your report?” Fai asked her.

Sakura nodded. “Of course,” she said.

They were both quiet for a moment.

Then, Sakura stood up and brushed off her white skirt even though it was spotlessly clean. “I’m going to go back and check on him,” she hesitated, “unless you need me in the ER.”

Fai waved his hand dismissively. “No, no. Go and sit with the boy. If we do need you, I will send someone to fetch you. He’s your patient so you take good care of him, Sakura,” he told her kindly. “He’s been through hell.”

“I know,” Sakura said and left Fai’s office.

He stared after her until her the door banged shut. Sakura was a good kid. If anyone could help this young man, it was her.

...

Sakura pushed open the door to Trauma Ward six and let it swing soundlessly shut behind her. It was dark in the room; night had fallen while she was talking to Fai so she groped through along the wall until she found the switch and flicked it to its lowest setting. A dim glow filled the room, like morning light and Sakura turned around.

The young man was sitting up in bed, so still that he startled her. His hands were clasped in his lap and he was staring straight ahead, as if unseeing.

“Oh, you startled me,” Sakura said gently.

His head snapped in her direction, but he didn’t appear to see her. He stared through her. His eyes were amber-colored and occluded with blood.

“Can you see me, Syaoran?” Sakura asked.

He tensed, but she figured he was most likely temporarily blind. Severe psychological stress could cause fleeting blindness. With time, his vision would return completely too normal, but she couldn’t do much to help him now.

“Could I get you anything?” She continued and walked toward the bed.

His shoulders lifted and he angled his head slightly, listening to her approaching footfalls.

“Are you in pain? Or thirsty?” She asked gently. “Syaoran?” She ventured out a hand and touched his shoulder lightly.

Instantly, he wrenched himself away from her, slamming his lower back into the rail on one side of the bed. Arching against the pain, he threw out is hands in a pathetic illusion of defense. His wrists were as thin as twigs, impossibly dangerously frail. His eyes strained wide and panicked, like those of a cornered animal. Blood trailed form the corner of his mouth and then he parted his lips as if to scream, but no sound came out.

Sakura couldn’t accurately describe how unnerving it was to see his mouth gaping open with no sound coming from it. The scream was lost, frozen, not even a gasp came out of his throat. He was completely silent with his arms thrust out against a nonexistent threat.

His anguish and desperation was quiet, unspoken. Whatever it was he had been through had stolen his voice and his sight. Sakura shuddered to think what that was.

She couldn’t find her voice either.

Finally, she whispered, “Syaoran, please. It’s alright, you’re safe now. You’re in the hospital,” she crooned. “My name is Sakura. I’m a nurse.” She didn’t dare touch him, lest she make it worse so she just continued speaking. “I’m here to help you. Please, Syaoran, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

But his mouth remained open, his grief silent.

Finally, she slipped a needle into his IV and sedated him. Within moments, he was slumped down against the pillows again. Sakura tucked him in without touching him and then sat back at his bedside. She didn’t feel like speaking to Fai about what had happened yet.

I know, I know!

Are my chapters to short? I always hit over 1,000 words, but is that uncomfortably short or good?

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 4: Several People, Status: Lost

Chapter Text

I’d like to that all my wonderful reviewers. I’ve already gotten so many!

I’m so loved!

It was nearly midnight, the witching hour, when the sedative finally began to wear off. The young man’s amber eyes flickered open, blinked a few times, and shifted around the room even though he couldn’t see anything in it. Sakura purposefully rustling her clothing and he went ramrod straight. She saw him wet his lips and squeeze his eyes shut tightly. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Maybe he was praying.

“Syaoran,” Sakura whispered.

He stopped breathing.

“It’s alright you know. You’re safe now,” she murmured.

His shoulders jerked as he inhaled sharply. Then, slowly but fiercely, he shook his head.

“You’re in a hospital. I’m a nurse. My name is Sakura,” she hesitated. “You’re safe here, I promise. There are police outside the door right now. They’re here to protect you, Syaoran.”

He continued shaking his head. Slowly, the shake traveled through his entire body until he was trembling like a leaf.

Sakura rose, hesitated, and then perched on the edge of the bed.

He stopped breathing again.

“Syaoran, please, you’re never going to get better unless you believe me. I’m here to help you, to help you get better,” Sakura whispered and timidly touched his hand where it lay on top of the covers.

He instantly snapped his hand back and turned his head away from her.

Sakura sighed and shifted back into her chair at his bedside. “Alright, but I’m here if you need me,” she whispered. She sat there until he dropped back off into an exhausted sleep again and then she left to speak with Dr. Fluorite.

...

Syaoran was wrapped in shadows, but he sensed that he was blessedly alone. Experimentally, he brought his hand up in front of his face and waved it a little. He sensed the air displacing as he moved it, but couldn’t see it.

Something was very wrong.

If he was in a hospital as the unknown young woman, by the sound of her voice, said then there should be some light in the room by which he could see his hand. Even if she was lying and he was still trapped in that place, then there would still be a faint rose-colored light in the room. He should be able to see his hand, but he couldn’t.

Syaoran came to the terrifying conclusion that he was blind.

Drawing a shaky breath, he wet his lips and tried to talk himself out of his panic.

No sound came from his throat.

Wild with horror, his hands flew to his throat, feeling over the sore flesh for a wound that would allow him to figure out if his vocal chords had been cut out. His neck was too sore for him to discern anything and he didn’t dare peel the bandage off.

That was when he realized the dreadful collar was off: the horrible strip of leather with a tight chain that drilled spikes and razors into the tender skin of his throat. He had spent many nights chained to that bed dreaming that the collar would slit his throat if he could only angle his neck the right way, but he had had no such luck.

But, if that woman was real and telling the truth, then his days and nights in that living hell were over for a few short hours.

Maybe, this time, he could get away before that man came for him.

...

Fai wasn’t in his office when she knocked, waited, and finally peeked in. Startled, Sakura called his name. When she got no answer, she checked the wall clock. It was a little after eight in the morning so the day shift should have arrived by now. Fai should be in his office, wrapping up the night’s paperwork.

Sakura quietly shut the door and hurried quickly from the Trauma wing of the hospital to the Emergency Room. Maybe something had happened!

Pushing open the double doors, Sakura rushed past Chet, paused to smooth her ruffled feathers, and then stepped into Reception.

Tomoyo looked up at her expectantly. “Sakura? Is something wrong? Your face is flushed,” Tomoyo said plainly and turned her attention back to her computer screen. Fai’s paperwork was lying in a stack on the desk in front of her, but Tomoyo was logging the patients on her floor, checking and double-checking what the day shift nurses would need to know to take the best care of her patients.

“Um, Tomoyo, have you seen Dr. Fluorite anywhere?” Sakura asked finally.

Tomoyo shook her head, dark braid slapping over her shoulders. “Nope, sorry. Last I heard from him, he was on his way here to pick up his paperwork,” she gestured to the stack, “as you can see, he hasn’t dropped by.”

“Alright, thank you, Tomoyo,” Sakura said and hugged her friend awkwardly around her shoulders. “If you see him, could you tell him I was looking for him?”

Tomoyo nodded. “Of course, but after I finish up my reports, I’m heading home for the night. Do you want a ride? I’m tired, but I can wait a while,” she offered kindly.

Sakura was lucky to have such a wonderful friend. She smiled. “That’s alright. You head home, I’ll just take the bus,” she said.

“Oh, the bus? I can wait, really,” Tomoyo insisted.

Sakura giggled. “It’s alright. I like the bus. You just go home, take a hot shower, and get some rest, okay?”

Tomoyo nodded blearily and didn’t put up anymore fuss which was a testament to how tired she really was to allow her friend to ride the bus home.

Though Sakura was tired, she planned on staying at Syaoran’s side all day and going home around ten or midnight that coming night. She was one of the most dedicated nurses on staff. Maybe that’s why Fai had chosen her to tend the young man. Giving Tomoyo one last hug, Sakura left Reception and stepped into the bathroom. She splashed some cold water on her face and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes.

“You really need to get a life, Sakura,” she chastised herself. “You’ve worked through two twelve hours shifts and now you’re staying here during your off time. Jeez,” she muttered. She dried her face and hands and hurried back to the Trauma Ward.

The young man was just as she left him: curled on his side, facing away from her, fast asleep.

For a while, she stared at him, following the slender sinuous curve on his ribcage and waist with her eyes. She didn’t feel herself drop off to sleep until cold fingers touched her throat and woke her.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 5: Grope and Crystal-Ball-Blue

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I started working on this the night I posted Chapter Four so you guys would suffer too much. Thank you, everyone, for your support!

The chilled hand on Sakura’s skin jolted her awake. She slammed backwards in her chair, giving herself whiplash and nearly sending herself spilling across the floor in a heap. Startled, she spun around in her chair, ready to punch the sucker who had scared the pants off of her.

Officer Kurogane’s red eyes glared down at her.

Instantly, she shrunk back, feeling sheepish. “Officer Kurogane,” she managed to stutter out.

He grunted. “Shouldn’t you be at home, ma’am?”

Sakura swallowed. “My shift’s already over,” she explained.

Kurogane cut her off. “So you should be at home. I assure you, things are well taken care of here.” He surveyed her, as if sizing up how much to reveal to her. “Dr. Fai is staying to oversee this patient himself,” he said finally.

Sakura nodded. “Dr. Fluorite is very capable,” she agreed.

Kurogane stared at her.

Uncomfortable, Sakura rose to her feet and smoothed the blankets absently. Syaoran stiffened slightly, but otherwise remained asleep… or else pretending very convincingly. She leaned over to fluff up his pillow and then brushed at her white shirt. “Alright, Officer, I think I’ll take my leave,” Sakura said cheerfully.

She was nearly out the door when Kurogane asked, almost as an afterthought, “What’s your address and home phone number?”

“Oh, I live in the grey-green apartment building on Clow Street. 1667 Clow Street, 7B,” she told him.

“Phone number?”

Sakura shook her head. “I don’t have one. It’s too expensive, but my pager number is 555-789-6167. You can always reach me on that,” she explained.

They were both silent.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Officer?” She asked finally.

Kurogane shook his head and grunted.

“Then, I’ll be going,” Sakura said.

…

Making her way through the bright hospital, Sakura began to realize how tired she was. She could barely keep her eyes open as she walked. She pulled her coat off the rack in the break room, pulled on her gloves, and wrapped her scarf around her neck a few times before looping it neatly in the front. Then, she shifted her pager and house keys from her shirt pocket to her coat pocket, poured herself half a cup of hot coffee to help her on the way home but not keep her wired, and left the break room.

She stopped by Reception to be sure Tomoyo had already left and was shocked to discover that it was nearly eleven o’clock at night. She had slept the entire day away at Syaoran’s bedside though she had dim memories of waking frequently. Syaoran had been crying out in his sleep and copious amounts of coffee caused a particular bodily function to surface.

Cursing her idiocy, Sakura shoved her hands into her coat pockets and stepped out into the blistering winter wind. Normally, the wind was bracing, but today it was downright frigid. Snow flurries whipped at her cheeks and stung her lips until she pulled her scarf up over her nose and mouth.

Soon shivering, Sakura half-jogged the four blocks to the bus station. Then, she waited, trembling, for the beautiful bus headlights to come around the corner.

There was no one else at the stop with her. Actually, there were very few people out on the street in general. A hobo shuffled behind his cart across the street, but he turned into the warmth of the homeless shelter and was gone. Then, Sakura was truly alone.

She comforted herself by watching the silhouettes of waitresses moving about in the all-night diner next to the bus stop. There were a few diners inside, most likely truckers or people who worked the swing-shift.

Sakura’s teeth began to chatter.

Then, the bus turned the corner with its big engine rumbling and coughing. It ground to a squeaky halt and the door sprang open with a clang. The bus was in several states of disrepair so severe that Sakura was amazed it didn’t fall apart on the spot, but the heater was working. She clambered inside.

“Jesus, lady, could you have picked a worse night to be out on the town?” The bus driver asked. He was short and round and shining with grease. His skin had broken out in many places and Sakura suspected it was purely from a lousy diet.

She handed him her change, exact, as usual and took a seat.

There were only two other people on the bus: a man, sleeping with his chin slumped on his chest, and a woman who stared at Sakura with almost-glowing crystal-ball-blue glass eyes. It was so unnerving that Sakura occupied herself pretending to be asleep.

The woman only stayed on for two more stops. At Cyprus and Fifth, she rose, pulled on her knitted hat, and left the bus.

“Be safe, lady,” the driver hollered after her, but she was already gone in the night.

Sakura’s stop came five after the woman’s. Bracing herself against the cold, she wrapped the scarf around her entire head, knotted it, and shoved her hands deep into her pockets.

“Hey, you watch out, lady, you hear? It’s a dangerous night!” The driver shouted, but Sakura couldn’t hear him over the howling wind.

Sakura started jogging to keep warm and to reach home that much faster. The bus passed her after only a few feet, taking with it the glow from the headlights, and was gone around the corner. There were no other cars on the street.

Sakura jogged a little faster, suddenly inexplicably nervous. The scarf flapped noisily in the wind, whipping at her face occasionally as if it had a mind of its own. Her apartment, grey in the moonlight and grey-green during the day, was just peeking into view. Sakura had to pass a few shadowed alleyways before she was safely inside the heated lobby. She contemplated jogging diagonally through the street to shorten her distance, but told herself she was being silly. Was it worth losing a few feet just to be hit by a car? She thought not.

She passed the first alley. The gloom was still and reeked of garbage.

The second appeared empty. It looked out over the equally deserted street beyond the block of buildings

Snow was piling up in the gutter.

Sakura had a few more feet before she passed the third and final alley. Then, she had to only cross the street to be safely home.

She smiled behind her scarf and hurried her pace out of cheerfulness.

She passed the third alley.

A shadow loomed up in front of her, cast by the moonlight coming in behind, and an iron grip slammed down on her shoulder. A scream welled up in her throat, but her unknown assailant jerked her scarf harshly backwards. The fabric slid into her open mouth and blindfolded her as well. Her hair jerked painfully as her assailant tied the scarf in a knock behind her head.

Sakura swung blindly, not even thinking to make a fist. Her hand smacked against a thick heavy leather coat and inflicted as much damage as an insect. She kicked backwards instead and managed to land a hard blow to the crotch of whoever was holding her. She was rewarded with a grunt of pain and that was all.

Her attacker grabbed her foot and held it at that strange angle. “Clever girl,” a voice growled, “but not clever enough.”

A strong arm wrapped around Sakura’s middle and dragged her unwillingly back into the alley.

Even if she had been able to scream, the wind would have stolen her cries.

…

Syaoran was sitting up in his bed.

That young woman had finally left. Her breathing had been deep and even in beside his bed for a long time, eight hours at least.

Syaoran pulled the IV from the back of his hand, leaned over and fumbled for the switch that would turn off the monitor, and then he turned that off too. He couldn’t stay here. That man would find him and take him back like a runaway child or a lost pup and no one would raise questions.

After all, that man was his own father.

Syaoran could not, would not, go back to that living hell.

He put his cold feet on the floor and slid experimentally across the floor. Nothing encumbered him. The room appeared empty of other beds or furnishings.

Groping blindly through the dark, he found the bathroom and flipped the light switch. He could see no change and the chances of the bulb having blown were slim.

Escaping was going to be harder than he thought, but he had to do it.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 6: The Color Purple: Plastic & Skin

Chapter Text

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!VERY IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Touya has no relation to Sakura in this story. At all.
If you people didn’t know that, you’d be scarred for life.
Thank you very much
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!VERY IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Plus an early warning for partial bondage, yaoi, and graphic descriptions.

Sakura’s back connected hard with the alley wall. The bricks felt almost slimy beneath her scrabbling fingers and she struggled to get some purchase on the stone. Her feet slid out from under her, but she continued to kick lamely at her attacker. A hand was shoved behind her back, twisted deftly, and then the wall fell out from behind her.

A door swung open.

She fell backwards, unsupported, and smashed into the warm linoleum. Her vision swam with lights and spots, blinding her.

“I’ve got her,” her assailant grumbled. He was tall and dark with a heavy frowning mouth, but trim and well-muscled. A warrior. “I had to stand out in the f*cking snow all day and most of tonight. The pay had better be worth it!”

“It is.” The second man’s voice sent a shiver racing up Sakura’s spine. Something just wasn’t right with it.

She got her arms underneath her and heaved weakly in a half of a pushup, crouched on her knees, and pulled her scarf down from her face. The knot pulled out some of her hair, but that was the least of her problems. “Who are you?” She demanded.

“Now, if I were to tell you that, I’d have to kill you,” the second man said and laced his fingers in front of his lips. “You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

A line of cold sweat broke out on Sakura’s forehead and her mouth went dry.

The man smiled cruelly. “I didn’t think so,” he continued. He was a large man, but not fat. He dressed neatly, like a business man, in a three piece black suit with a white shirt and a tie the color of old blood. The top of a gold monocle peeked out of his breast pocket and Sakura could see her own face, white and terrified, reflected on his shiny shoes.

Desperately, Sakura said, “I know where this place is! You’ll never get away with this.”

The man raised one heavy brow. His eyes were cold and predatory. “Are you just begging for a reason to be killed?” He asked plainly.

Sakura struggled to swallow. She was deep in it now. Wetting her lips, she managed, “What do you want from me?”

The man sat back in his chair, relaxed, like a king on his throne. “You don’t want to know what I really want with you, but I had you caught so I could ask you something,” he explained and then leaned forward raptly again. “You work at the hospital, correct?”

Sakura nodded weakly.

“Dr. Fai D. Fluorite’s pet nurse,” he said blandly and then narrowed his mean. “You are watching over that young man, correct?”

Sakura’s blood ran cold in her veins. “Y-you’re the one who did those h-horrible things to him?” She whispered.

“H-h-h-horrible,” the man mocked. “I assure you. He liked them when they first began.”

Sakura shuddered. Syaoran’s body had been nearly torn apart. No one, no matter how sad*stic of masoch*stic, would have been able to enjoy the things that had created such terrible aftereffects in him.

His blindness.

The loss of his voice.

Those wretched jagged wounds on his throat.

His cut mouth, beaten filthy skin, burns and infections.

The stink of sex inside him, every orifice abused and stuffed with sticky cream.

She shuddered.

“Are you thinking of what we did to him?” The man asked.

“You’re a monster,” Sakura whispered.

The man shook his head. “No, I’m paid very handsomely for what I do,” he told her as if that explained everything. In a way, it did, but Sakura didn’t know that yet. “Care for an elaboration?”

Sakura shook her head.

There seemed to be no way out of this situation. They surely wouldn’t just let her go unharmed. She would be across the street in seconds, inside her apartment building, and the police would soon be breathing down their necks. Surely they would do something to prevent that from happening, something bad.

“Sakura?”

She started.

“I can see you are not listening to me,” the man said exasperatedly. “Very well. I was hoping to spare you from this and simply chloroform you, but I see extreme measures are called for.” He snapped his fingers to the other man. “Touya, knock her out.”

Touya rubbed his hands together. “I’ll do her for free,” he said hungrily.

Bile choked the back of Sakura’s throat. She exploded to her feet and hurtled toward the door. Touya caught her by her arm, clenched on like a vice.

“Now, now, play nice.” He pressed against her backside and she felt his hardness pressing against the small of her back. It was big and thick, too big and too thick. She was a nurse and pretty, so she had seen plenty.

She screamed.

Touya clamped his big heavy hand over her mouth. “Oh, here’s your punishment, you bad bad girl,” he said and shoved two of his cold fingers between her lips. She snapped at him, biting hard enough to draw blood. Touya shoved his fingers down her throat, choking off her gag reflex and her air supply. Sakura struggled weakly for a few moments, but her limbs soon felt heavy and leaden. Black encroached at the edges of her vision, and then she was lost in the darkness.

...

She woke up in a crumpled heap on a rough but warm concrete floor. Groaning, she sat up and held her head between her hands. She had a headache that hurt somewhere between a brass band and twenty-two Jell-O shots. Her coat was folded neatly on a stool next to her along with her gloves and scarf. She was reaching for them when a short switch of black leather lightly slapped the back of her hand. She whirled around.

Touya was staring down at her, smiling. “The boss said we’re not to touch you, but anything else goes. Remind me of that, if I get carried away,” he said and then grabbed her by her wrist and hauled her to her feet.

Sakura’s legs were numb from being folded up beneath her and cooperated as much as wet noodles. Touya caught her other wrist and pinned them against the wall. Sakura resigned herself to the fact that there was nothing she could do to save herself from violation. He was bigger and stronger than she was. But rape was about violence, not sex, so if she remained limp and un-protesting, he should tire and leave her quickly.

She was praying for that.

But Touya didn’t touch her. He stared at her parted pink lips as if he wanted to, but didn’t. His cool slim fingers unfastened her white skirt and pulled it down to pool at her feet. Then, he carefully unbuttoned all the buttons of her white blouse, unfastened her bra, and let both hang over her shoulders.

For a very long time, he stared at her bare breasts. The skin was smooth and creamy with plump caramel-colored nipples raised into peaks with cold. Finally, he cupped her breast, massaging it gently, as if awed by the feel. He gave her nipple a little tweak, a little pinch, and Sakura gasped.

Touya swore. “Hell, you were supposed to tell me not to get carried away,” he told her angrily.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

He pulled her coat off the stool and revealed the strangest contraption Sakura had ever seen. There was a big fake purple vibrating co*ck mounted to the center and the rest of the stool was padded and covered in vinyl. There were shackles at two of the legs, clearly for ankles, and the stool itself was molded to fit perfectly between parted legs.

“W-what is that?” Sakura whimpered.

Touya smiled cheekily. “Something of my own design that the boss liked. I haven’t thought of a name for it yet,” he said and grinned like a wolf. “Maybe I’ll name it after you. You’ll be blazoned here forever.”

Sakura shivered.

Touya carefully pinned one wrist, lowered the other, and slid her bra and blouse off her shoulder. Then, he carefully pinned that wrist, freed the other, and let her blouse and bra fall to the floor with her skirt. Sakura stood before him in only her pink panties.

Touya whistled low in his throat. “You’re a real peach,” he told her, not unkindly.

Sakura felt tears welling up in her emerald eyes. She was going to be raped and she couldn’t even summon righteous hatred because the man doing it was being unbearably kind to her. She sniffed, determined to stay strong for as long as she could.

“It’s alright. The boss doesn’t want you broken, just shown,” Touya said softly. “That’s why he had me do it.”

With that, he bound her wrists with a soft cloth and duct tape, and secured them to a hook over the stool. Sakura wobbled on weak legs. He pulled down her panties, folded them, and laid them on top of the puddle of her clothing. Then, he stared at her again.

Sakura could feel herself trembling.

This time, when he reached for her, she told him to stop and he did.

Crouching, he secured her ankles in the shackles on the stool.

Sakura’s legs were weak and shivery. She was cold and filled with fear. She wouldn’t be able to remain standing for very long and when she fell, she would be impaled on that big fake purple vibrating co*ck in the center of that vinyl stool. She would take her own virginity.

It was sick, twisted, and psychological.

“W-why are you doing this to me?” Sakura whispered.

Touya rolled his shoulders. “I need the money. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

A slender pale young man treaded quietly into the room. He was wearing a long white robe and thin glasses low on his nose. His face was effeminate, soft and timid, with gentle wide set blue eyes. At his side, he carried a long staff with a dick and swinging rubber balls at the top.

“Yukito,” Touya said affectionately. “Thanks for coming down.”

“Always a pleasure,” Yukito said cheerfully and leaned his staff against the wall. “You said you needed my help with something,” he caressed the too large, too huge, bulge in Touya’s pants, “something other than the usual?”

Touya shivered. His breath was quick. “In a way, it is the usual. This girl is to be shown,” Touya explained breathily. “I’ve got her over my device, but she’s scared.”

Yukito hummed low in his throat, crossed the space between Touya and Sakura, and stared at her. “She’s beautiful. A new star?”

“No, just shown.” Touya held out his arms.

“I don’t understand why I’m needed,” Yukito murmured.

Touya tipped his chin.

Yukito ventured out a hand.

“I’m not to be touched,” Sakura whispered weakly.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m only here for Touya and I have little interest in women,” he explained gently.

Sakura tried to twist away from him regardless, but Yukito persisted. He held her by her hip and slid his hand between her legs. His fingers were warm and soft, but alien. Sakura cried out in fear. One of his invading fingers slid between her folds, prodded her entrance, and tweaked her cl*t. Then, he withdrew and surveyed his hand.

“Not wet,” Yukito said plainly and nodded. He went into Touya’s open arms. “I understand now. I like an audience.”

They angled so that Sakura could watch them.

Then, Yukito kissed Touya fiercely. The blond moaned, parting his lips for Touya’s tongue to enter. The battled waged between them, tongues tangling and dancing. Touya suckled Yukito’s lower lip until it was plump and red, swollen from kisses.

Then, the touching began.

Yukito ran his hand down the front of Touya’s pants, caressing him through the tight denim material. Touya moaned and bucked his hips towards Yukito’s cupped palm. Painstakingly slowly, he lowered the zipper and unfastened the snap. Touya wore no underwear. There was only a thin mass of dark curls trailing from his belly button to a place Sakura didn’t care to think of.

She hated to even admit it, but there was a heat in her stomach. Her slit was tingling with need that she couldn’t control.

She was dampening and becoming aroused.

“Is this what you want?” Yukito moaned, kissing Touya’s exposed throat and giving it a playful nip.

Touya groaned. “Yes!”

Yukito gripped his hard warm length and gave it a jerk, almost violently. Touya moaned and wrapped his mouth around Yukito’s pulse. He sucked hard. Yukito began to pump him, teasingly, running his thumb over the weeping head and pressing in at the slit.

Touya whimpered, “Please.”

Yukito smiled and kissed the dark haired man hard again. “You’re on bottom,” he said, “since you asked for me and I’m saving myself for tonight so we’ll only use toys.”

Touya only moaned in response.

Yukito guided Touya to what could only be described as a padded barrel. It was also covered in vinyl and he bent his lover over it with his white ass pointed at Sakura for prime viewing. The pale young man let the robe fall from his shoulders. His co*ck was pale and faintly purple, but hard and raised to attention.

“Suck me, Touya,” Yukito ordered.

Sakura was glad she couldn’t see that, but she could hear the feverish suckling and lapping. Yukito’s face contorted with pleasure as he fumbled for a fake vibrating co*ck that was larger than the one looming below Sakura like a stake.

“You’re not going to…” She whispered.

Yukito smiled and said, “You’re dripping.”

Heated embarrassment flooded Sakura’s face. She glanced down between her legs and saw a thin clear fluid running down her thighs and dripping from her flushed pink slit. Some had fallen onto the fake co*ck and ran lewdly down the sides. She quickly averted her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Princess, we’ll finish for you,” Yukito said.

Then, he took a jar of lube and dipped his fingers into it until they were coated. He trailed kisses down Touya’s back and slid one finger into Touya’s ring of puckered flesh. He wiggled it to loosen him up and Sakura’s cheeks colored something fierce.

Touya moaned so loud that it echoed. “More,” he whispered heatedly and returned to sucking noisily.

Yukito slid in another finger, and a third, finally a fourth. Touya’s asshole was stretched what looked painfully wide, but Sakura had a feeling it would only get worse. Sick curiosity made her continue watching. Yukito bent low to get more leverage and then, grunting, pulled Touya’s ass apart. His four fingers strained the muscles to their max, showing Sakura Touya’s empty bubble-gum pink intestines.

She felt sick.

Yukito worked up some saliva and spit into the gaping asshole of his lover. Touya had stopped sucking and was groaning in bliss or pain. Yukito’s slippery fingers fumbled for the fake co*ck he had selected and he shoved it deep into Touya’s ass. The young man screamed. His ass was stretched even wider than what Yukito’s fingers had pulled it to. Surely he would rip.

Yukito shushed him, crooning and cooing. “It’s alright, baby. You wanted to try it that big, remember?”

Touya moaned in agony and his muscles clenched at the invasion.

Yukito cooed some more. “Don’t clench, baby. That’ll make it worse. Here I’ll make you feel good,” he whispered and went to crouch behind Touya.

For a moment, Sakura could see Yukito’s puckered asshole. There was a strong of shining silver beads shoved up inside him.

She felt ill again.

Then, Yukito had his head between Touya’s legs and was heavily sucking his lover’s stone-hard co*ck. One pale hand toyed with Touya’s balls, gripping them hard and then fondling gently. His other hand meandered up to the vibrator and put it on its lowest setting. Touya began to moan, grunting and thrusting weakly at Yukito’s hot wet mouth. The vibrator was turned up and then Yukito gripped it by its base and began slowly moving it in and out.

It made an awful squelching noise, but Touya’s moans drowned it out.

With his one hand, Yukito pounded the vibrator into Touya’s ass, the other pumped his own co*ck. His mouth was occupied, sucking hard and fast. Somehow, he kept his eyes on Sakura and she couldn’t look away.

Finally, Touya came, squirting cream all over Yukito’s chest and face. Yukito licked his dick clean and walked around to Touya’s face. Sakura heard suckling again and Yukito came with a grunt. He leaned over and turned off the vibrator.

“No, leave it in,” Touya begged.

“You won’t be able to walk. It’s too big,” Yukito told him while Touya licked at the sem*n splattered on his lover’s chest.

“That’s okay. I have to watch the girl anyway,” Touya said.

“Alright.”

Yukito kissed him gently one more time and said, “You did good today, baby.” Then, he was gone.

The only sound in the room was the buzzing of the vibrator and Touya’s deep heavy breathing.

Below Sakura, the fake co*ck loomed as large and purple as any real co*ck. Her slick juices were still dripping from her slit and she was disgusted by how aroused she was. She resolved not to sink onto the co*ck no matter how great the pain in her legs became.

“You know,” Touya said suddenly, “if you had said so, we could have made you feel that good.”

Sakura didn’t answer. She just stared at her clothes in shame.

I’ve never written yaoi before, could you tell?

Will Sakura succumb?

What does this have to do with anything?

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 7: The Worst Best Feeling

Chapter Text

Because I’m sure everyone has figured it out by now, I think I’ll mention my evil guy’s name in this chapter. I’m also trying to make him not completely evil, though his motives haven’t surfaced for the readers to digest yet though I may mention that soon. Let me know if I’m doing a good job. If you haven’t gotten it yet (monocle), then you’ll get a (monocle) shock the size of a grapefruit! Did I mention the hint was (monocle) the monocle?

Fei-Wang Reed was a bit shocked to say the least.

Yukito had had Touya bent over the barrel and f*cked his brains out and the girl did not succumb. Using his remote camera, he zeroed in on her slit and found it dripping soaking wet but she still did not succumb to the co*ck below her.

She was a pure one all right.

A virgin! He would bet his p*rn ring on it.

Touya was lounging on the barrel still, ass stretched all to hell. It would take a long time to be film-worthy and tight again, but the boy looked sated, as fat and happy as a leach on a cheerleader’s plump little ass.

Fei-Wang sighed and moved the camera back to the girl. She was staring at something, maybe her clothes, and biting her lip. Her legs were shivering, growing weak from poor circulation.

It was a miracle she had lasted this long without succumbing just from weakness.

Fei-Wang checked his watch.

Almost two hours.

In that time, Touya had cum thirty-seven times before finally turning off the vibrator and lying still.

The girl shifted her hips, trying to get some blood into her feet. Her hands were low in front of her, not low enough to free her ankles or touch her slit, but in front of her breasts. She had gnawed at the duct tape for a while, but made no progress.

Now, she was resigned.

Her legs trembled again and bowed a little. She managed to snap herself back into a standing position.

Fei-Wang made himself a little bet that if she didn’t succumb in another hour, he would just let her go, but he doubted she could hold out that long.

He zeroed in on her puss* again, staring as she adjusted her legs and bent at the waist, unintentionally giving him a better view. Her slit was flushed pink and shining with wetness. Her inner thighs were wet, too, as was the co*ck below her from her dripping slit.

She glanced down at the co*ck, then at Touya, and then stood up again.

Man was she one pure tough little bitch.

Fei-Wang focused the camera on her and just sat back to watch.

…

Sakura couldn’t feel her legs or her feet. She had no circulation from standing on her toes for so long without moving. Her legs were weak, shivering. If that co*ck wasn’t there to impale her, she would have sat down long ago. Much to her agitation and embarrassment, her crotch was still wet and dripped occasionally onto the co*ck below with a splat.

Sakura wiggled her fingers and sang to herself for a distraction.

She wouldn’t be able to hold out much long and she knew it, but she was loath to give in.

She would hold out for as long as she could and then a bit more.

In front of her, Touya shifted but did not turn to look at her. She wondered if he was still asleep.

…

Fei-Wang was amazed the girl was still holding out when the hours ticked to a close, but her legs were trembling like an earthquake. He gave her made thirty second before she couldn’t even lower herself onto the dick and just went crashing down hard onto it, impaling herself.

He began the countdown.

If she made it, she could go.

If not, she was his for a few more tests.

One… two… three…

Sakura couldn’t prevent her knees from knocking together. She was trying to hold herself up with her arms where they were secured to the ceiling, but that only had her wobbling from side to side. Pins and needles had crept up to her stomach and settled there.

She couldn’t hold on.

Lowering a little more, weak, she felt the mushroomed head slip into the fold of her wet slit.

It squeaked.

Ten… eleven… twelve…

Fei-Wang watched her virgin puss* descend on the co*ck. His only regret was that he wouldn’t get to see it in person. She arched against even that slight brush, never touched before. More of her juices ran down the co*ck, like a bubble bursting inside of her entrance where the liquid had collected, sealed in by her folds.

She rocked back and forth a bit, as if readying herself, but she was really trying to find renewed strength to stand.

Twenty… twenty-one… twenty-two…

Sakura whimpered.

She didn’t want to do this.

She wanted to save herself, but she could see no other option. Her feet were blue and purple.

She had to sit down.

She had to.

But, God, she didn’t want to!

…thirty.

Fei-Wang cursed. She had made it, but she had to succumb to this test before she could leave. It didn’t save her puss*, but it saved her ass.

She would’ve been happy if she had known about the bet.

Sakura swept the head through her slit again. It was slick and covered in her juices. It shouldn’t hurt too badly, but she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Finally, she let the head align with her entrance and pushed down. It stretched her muscles, shoving them aside and burrowing deep inside her. She continued to push down until the tip of the head was tight against her womb, but her ass still couldn’t reach the seat so her weight was still on her toes.

Sobbing with the unfairness of it all, she impaled herself on the big fake purple dick. It shoved painfully against her womb, pressing at the opening to her cervix, but not entering. Thank god.

Blood rushed back into her feet immediately, pushing away the tingling, but she was still too weak to stand.

Someone was clapping.

She looked up into Touya’s face.

“Bravo, bravo. Now you see, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He asked.

Tears made slow tracts down her cheeks and her chest heaved with sobs.

Touya reached under the stool and flipped the vibrator on to its highest setting. It buzzed like an angry bee.

“No! Stop, please!”

“No, no. This is the good part,” Touya said and knelt between her parted legs. His shoulders held her knees irresistibly apart. “This is where I make you feel good. Then, the boss says you go home. You won the bet.”

“What bet?!” She sobbed as he trailed a fingertip over her exposed pearl. She shivered and a scream of intense pleasure welled up in her throat. It was so wrong that it felt so good. “Stop it! Please, don’t touch me.”

Touya smiled. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel good,” he said.

He cupped her breasts, twisting her nipples between his fingers.

Sakura couldn’t help the moan that escaped her and she tilted her neck up.

Touya closed his mouth over her thundering pulse, suckling lightly so as not to leave a single mark. He trailed his tongue down a steaming path to the valley of her breasts and sucked hard on one of her nipples. It hardened into a peak for him, so sweet and pure.

She whimpered, protested feebly, but he shushed her.

He massaged her breasts, suckling and nipping her skin. Then, he burned a trail to her parted legs and paused to dip his tongue into her bellybutton. By now he could feel the vibrations from the fake co*ck deep inside her. He smiled against her stomach and then caught her little sensitive pearl between two fingers.

He rolled it gently, eliciting such sinful moans and sobs from her that he couldn’t wait to lock his mouth on her. He spread her outermost lips with one hand, smoothing satin-soft pale curls, and then licked her little bud.

Sakura screamed.

This was wrong. He was practically raping her, but… God she didn’t want him to stop. It felt so good.

Now, she understood what that man had meant. Syaoran had initially liked it, but it was still so wrong.

She could hear Touya sucking and licking at her over the whine of the vibrator.

A coiled spring was winding up in her stomach, tighter and tighter. She felt as if she was going to explode.

Sakura writhed in his capable hands, moaning and whimpering as he teased her bud with his teeth. Then, suddenly, white hot lights exploded in her eyes. The coil sprang open and she felt a rush of hot liquid spurting out around the fake co*ck.

Touya freed her ankles, lifted her off of the fake dick, put her legs over his shoulders, and licked her clean. That felt good, too, but by then, Sakura had already passed out.

And that should be the end of that for a while.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 8: Dream Sequence: Don't Make Me Blue

Chapter Text

I have nothing to say. T_T

Sakura woke up in a cold sweat safe and sound in her own bed. Throwing back the covers, she stumbled from bed and stripped off all her clothes. She was wearing pajamas, her favorite blue cotton ones. They had been folded neatly in the top drawer in the back of her closet, not easily found. With shaking hands, she pulled down her panties and reached between her legs. Her trembling fingers came away dry and her slit was still tight and virgin to her touch.

Sakura sat down with a thump on her bed and put her head in her hands.

“Boy, that was one sick dream,” she whispered. Tears of relief leaked between her lashes and ran down her cheeks. Sakura flopped over across her bed, clutched a pillow to her chest, and fell deeply back asleep.

She didn’t dream anymore.

…

The morning dawned grey and dreary. The wind had settled to a tolerable five miles per hours though it still kicked up the foot of powder they had gotten that night. The flurries swirled through the air and landed in the freshly plowed street, building up in the gutter.

Despite the weather, Sakura woke up well-rested and energetic. She showered quickly, shaving her legs and armpits, and didn’t even wrap herself in a robe to return to her room. She studied her clean virgin body in her full-length mirror, smiling.

“Only a dream,” she murmured and got dressed. Donning white pants, a white short-sleeved blouse, and her tennis shoes, Sakura bounced back to the bathroom. She scraped her pale hair back into something resembling a bun, pinned a few loose strands back with bobby pins, and then yanked on her favorite knitted hat, effectively ruining the hair-do.

She ate a quick balanced breakfast: grapefruit juice, whole wheat toast with strawberry jam, and an apple while she walked to the bus stop.

She peeked into that third alley as she passed it, but there was no door in the brick.

“Only a dream,” she said again, cheerfully.

Then, the realization that it hadn’t been a dream for Syaoran slammed into her like a runaway train. She had to stop and take several deeps breaths, then run to catch the bus. It was just going to be one of those mornings, she could tell.

“Hey, lady,” the driver said good-naturedly while Sakura fished out the exact change. “Are you alright? I saw you stop to catch your breath for no apparent reason.”

Sakura smiled. “No, nothing. I’m alright,” she told him and took a seat at the window.

The woman with the gypsy ball blue eyes was on the bus again and she fixed her unnerving glass gaze on Sakura. She was rather pretty. Her hair was platinum colored, long and straight, and framing her face in wisps. She wore big silver hoops in her ears and her skin was very pale. For some reason, she reminded Sakura of Dr. Fai though they bore no resemblance save pale hair and skin and blue eyes. But lots of people looked like that. There was something about this woman was reminded Sakura of Fai on a base level.

The woman stood up and practically glided over to Sakura. When she sat down next to her, Sakura saw that it wasn’t a woman at all, but a beautiful young girl with ageless learned eyes. Old eyes, eyes that had seen too much. They aged her nearly ten years.

“Hello,” the young girl said. Her voice was soft and lilting, faint and faded in and out as if the wind was blowing it. “I’m Chi.” She offered her pale slender hand.

Sakura took it. Her grip was soft and warm. “Sakura,” she said.

Chi inclined her head. “A pleasure.”

They were quiet for a few heartbeats, then:

“May I inquire as to what you were seeing in me?” Chi asked suddenly, but her voice was so soft it was unobtrusive.

“Excuse me?” Sakura asked, puzzled.

“What do you see with those eyes?” Chi repeated, staring at Sakura with her blue orbs.

“My eyes?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“What makes them any different from yours?” Sakura asked.

Chi tilted her head. “That is what I wish to know.”

Sakura was taken aback. Was this girl a bit mental?

Chi turned her chin to the slumbering man in the seat across from them. “Him,” she said simply.

“Him?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Sakura stared hard at the man and then at Chi. “Well, he’s tired.”

“Because he is sleeping?”

“Well, yes,” Sakura hesitated, feeling silly.

Chi turned her head a different way. “Does he dream?”

“I suppose.”

“Good dreams?”

“I would hope so,” Sakura said.

“What dreams?”

Sakura looked at him again. “Maybe his wife and children.”

“Is he married?” Chi asked quietly.

“He might be.”

“Ah.”

They were quiet again.

Chi whispered, “You know something heavy.”

Sakura didn’t understand. “I’m sorry. Something heavy?”

“A big secret,” Chi said.

Then, the bus ground to a halt. She smiled gently at Sakura, pulled on her hat, and left.

Sakura was left alone to mull it over for several minutes before it came time for her to get off at the hospital. As she passed by the man, he shouted in his sleep and lurched up. His face was scarred and he was missing an eye. Sakura decided that his dreams had been nightmares, maybe of a war.

…

The hospital was starched white, shockingly white in the pale morning light. Sakura usually worked the night shift, but she was covering a shift that Tomoyo was covering for a friend since something unexpected had come up in Tomoyo’s life. Sakura owed her a favor anyway.

So, a little tired and a little unsure since she was working with a completely new crew of nurses and doctors, Sakura took a deep breath and entered through the automatic sliding doors of the ER. The ER was bustling with helter-skelter activity. The nurses were wearing white pants and colored scrubs, a far cry from the night shift nurses’ array of short white skirts, white short-sleeved blouses, and pale pantyhose with low-cut tennis shoes. Sakura felt even more out of place.

She hurried to the break room, hung up her coat, and tucked a stray lock of pale auburn hair behind her ear. She smoothed her skirt over her knees and headed to the fourth floor nurses’ station where Tomoyo’s friend worked. She took the back staircase rather than the elevator, climbing the four flights for some extra exercise.

The fourth floor nurses’ station was empty except for one slender young woman with densely curled black hair. Her eyes were red-rimmed and reddish-violet, very dark, fringed by thick black lashes. Her pink lips were unpainted and there was a healthy glow in her pale cheeks. Her bone structure was fine, delicate, like a porcelain doll. She could have been built on an assembly line with all the other life-sized bisque dolls.

Sakura slipped behind the counter and tapped the girl lightly on the shoulder. “Umm, I’m Sakura. I’m filling in for Tomoyo who should be filling in for–”

“Cassandra,” the young woman said. “Tomoyo called and said to have an eye out for you this morning. I’m glad you’re here. I’m the only nurse on this floor so we’ll be pretty busy.”

Sakura nodded.

“Have a seat,” the young woman said. “I’m Xing-Huo. Cassandra’s pass code for her patients’ files and records is ‘Scarlet’.”

“Gotcha,” Sakura said and typed it quickly. Cassandra had a shorter list of patients than Sakura did on a slow night. It only took Sakura a moment to commit the room numbers to memory. Then, she closed down the window and glanced over at Xing-Huo. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to get started now.”

Xing-Huo nodded. “If you have any trouble, don’t hesitate to ask,” she said without looking up from the screen.

Sakura nodded, but the beautiful girl didn’t see.

…

After finishing Cassandra’s shift on a minimum of two cups of coffee, Sakura was feeling a bit more drained but rather cheerful. With her reserve of energy, she decided to check on Syaoran in the Trauma Ward. She gathered up her coat, sipped a third and final cup of coffee, and carefully picked her way between the police bodyguards. They studied her strangely, but didn’t say anything.

“Hello,” Sakura said cheerfully, but no one returned her greeting.

In the room, Syaoran was handcuffed to the bedrails. His wrists were rubbed raw and sore from struggling, but by now he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Oh my gosh!”

Sakura hustled to his side, but stopped herself before she touched him.

“Oh, Syaoran, what happened?” She whispered.

He gave no indication that he had heard her, just continued staring blankly at the white-washed ceiling. His blood-occluded eye was a dark shadow, the other glassy and shining. His lips were cracked and dry. The bandage around his throat was yellowed and reddish in spots.

The hideous yellow-greenish curtains were even ghastlier in the daylight.

Sakura tried not to focus on them.

Syaoran needed her attention.

“Syaoran,” she whispered.

He didn’t move.

“Listen, I need to change your bandages, especially the one on your throat, but I’ll have to touch you.”

No response.

She gently touched the corner of his jaw, lightly, timidly, to gauge his response.

His mouth twisted into a grimace and his lips parted in half a scream. No sound escaped him and his eyes remained gaping wide open. A swell of blood rolled down his cheek from his bloodied eye, pure clean crystal tears made slow trails down his other cheek.

“Syaoran…” She whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise…” she hesitated. “I think I know what you went through.”

His head turned slowly in her direction. A bright red smear of blood spread across the pillow beneath his cheek. He wet his lips and his mouth trembled, but his eyes stared through her. No sound escaped his throat, but he moved his lips as though he wanted to speak.

“I just want to help you,” she said softly and tenderly touched the corner of his jaw again. His skin was cool and satin-soft, like fresh silk sheets.

He strained away from her, but she couldn’t allow him to lie in soiled bandages. She slipped a needle into his IV and sedated him. It took a few moments for the drug to circulate and then she carefully peeled the bandages off his throat. The wounds were raw and lined with dead flesh, but not infected, healing slowly. She smoothed some antibacterial ointment on his skin and taped on fresh gauze.

Then, she carefully treated the remainder of his numerous wounds the same way. When she was finished, Sakura gently cupped his face and whispered, “Syaoran, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I just wish you would let me help you.”

Then, she pulled on her coat and left the grey-white hospital room with barf-colored curtains.

In the hallway outside, she met someone unexpected.

The young woman was pale and beautiful, ever paler in the dark blue-black police uniform. The hat was slouched down low over her long wispy platinum hair. The locks were wound tight behind her neck in a French bun. Her blue eyes saw a burden in Sakura’s barred green eyes. “Hello, Sakura,” the gorgeous white waif said in her soft wind-blowing voice.

“Chi?” Sakura mumbled, almost to herself.

The white and gold young woman smiled. Her sapphire eyes glittered with some unknown emotion. “Yes,” she said in that soft voice of hers. “Are you overseeing Li Syaoran? Daddy said he would have his most talented nurse watching over the boy.”

Sakura felt her eyes widen. “Daddy?” She asked with a raised brow.

Chi smiled softly, pink as cotton candy floss. She looked too small, too innocent, to be police woman and carrying a heavy cold metal gun and shoot people. “Dr. Fai,” she explained. “He’s my father. Mom’s been gone for as long as I can remember.”

Sakura smiled sadly. “I never knew my father,” she offered.

Chi’s smile grew a bit frail. “People can’t love each other forever,” she said. “I’ve never seen anyone stay together forever.” Then, the pale woman-child relieved another officer of his post and Sakura walked away.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 9: Assault: Hospital Under Fire

Chapter Text

Does drama and angst ever not suck in school? Drama freaking FOLLOWS me.

Since the day Syaoran arrived, it had been a long and rather unproductive week. Sakura thought to herself as she dragged herself to the break room for another cup of hot espresso. Tomoyo was slumped at the table, chin sagged against her chest. There was a spot of bright red blood on her white shirt, half scrubbed at, but nowhere near out.

Sighing, Sakura gripped her friend’s shoulder and gave her a little shake to rouse her. “Tomoyo,” she said gently. “Come on, wake up.” And shook her a little more, but Tomoyo didn’t stir. Her head lolled about on her neck as if disconnected from the rest of her. “Tomoyo?!” Sakura felt a bubble of panic welling up in her throat. “Hey, wake up.”

Tomoyo’s head flopped back on her neck, hanging over her shoulder. The young woman’s face was chalky-pale save for a welt on the side of her face. It looked like she had been pistol-whipped or something else equally dangerous.

Sakura smothered her panic by going into nurse mode. She fumbled at Tomoyo’s neck for a pulse, found it beating strongly beneath the skin, and shouted for assistance. The reaction was almost as instantaneous as a police officer yelling, “Officer down!”

Several nurses rushed into the break room. All traces of exhaustion and caffeine gone from their faces. They were all night-shift nurses, dressed in white skirts, pale pantyhose, and white shirts with different shades of buttons.

“Sakura?!”

“What is it?!”

“What’s wrong?!”

Sakura buoyed Tomoyo up in her arms and immediately the nurses were helping lift her. One of Tomoyo’s white sneakers clattered off her foot. Her ankle was wrenched in a strange direction, swelling up something terrible, and bloody.

Sakura was suddenly very concerned about the spot of blood on her shirt.

What if she had been stabbed?

“What happened to Tomoyo?!”

Sakura shook her head and they hauled her out to a gurney in the hallway. Then, they were rolling her quickly into the ER. One of the wheels on the gurney squeaked and wobbled wildly. Sakura shoved open the double doors with accidental flourish.

“I think there’s someone in the hospital,” Sakura said quietly so as not to alarm the nearby patients. “I think someone attacked Tomoyo.”

Then, it dawned on her:

Syaoran!

“Oh God,” Sakura whispered. She whirled to face one of the other nurses. “Could you take care of Tomoyo, please? I think I know what is going to happen next. It’s important that I stop this mess before it goes any farther.”

The other nurses nodded.

Then, Sakura exploded back through the double doors and was running down the hallway at full tilt. She didn’t take the elevator, but hurtled up to the Trauma Ward by way of the stairs. Her shoes squeaked and skidded on the linoleum, but within moments she was outside Syaoran’s room.

Chi and several other police officers were standing outside the door, looking tired and bored like usual. It took her a moment to catch her breath and then Chi approached her.

“Sakura, is something wrong?” The woman-child asked.

“Someone… is in… the hospital…” Sakura panted out.

“What?!” Chi gasped.

Instantly, the other officers perked up. All traces of exhaustion and boredom left their faces. Those that spoke with Sakura regularly, and knew her to be calm and level-headed, unsnapped their guns and rested their hands on the butts.

“What happened?” Chi asked quickly.

“I found my friend, Tomoyo, unconscious in the break room. Her ankle is all twisted and there’s a big welt on the side of her face,” Sakura explained. “There’s no way she could have done that to herself and then made it all the way to the break room. Someone had to have done it to her.”

Chi nodded. “Go into Syaoran’s room and wait there until whatever is going on is taken care of. Lock the door behind you,” she said. “Just wait with him. Try to keep him calm.”

Sakura nodded, pushed through the door, and locked it.

Syaoran was sitting up in his bed, staring blankly at the wall like he always did.

His face had healed considerably, along with his throat. Faint pinkish scars and fresh raw skin caught the faint moonlight streaming in through the window. The wounds on the rest of his body were also close to being completely healed. Sakura had sedated him and removed his stitches only a few days ago.

“Hi, Syaoran,” Sakura murmured and crossed the room. She perched on the edge of his freshly made bed and carefully touched the back of his hand. This was the only contact he allowed her without panic and horrible silent screaming. “Listen to me, something’s wrong in the hospital, but we’re going to protect you.”

His shoulders jerked ramrod straight and he pulled his hand away from her.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “It’s alright. Whoever did this to you is not going to get their hands on you again. Ever.”

Outside the room, there was a sudden commotion like furniture being tossed. Sakura heard several gunshots and Chi shouting orders. Her voice was shrill, but powerful. Sakura couldn’t see anything through the frosted glass window in the door, not even a silhouette.

Then, everything was quiet.

…

Chi didn’t know what she had been expecting when Sakura told her something was wrong, that someone was in the hospital. She knew Sakura to be calm and cool in a crisis. Her father, Fai, trusted Sakura completely so Chi trusted the nurse, too. S

She and the other officers tensed and stood ramrod straight like soldiers at their posts in a hallway.

It was quiet for a long time.

Chi could hear a clock ticking somewhere and the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead.

Then, everything went to Hell in a hand basket.

A shadow appeared around the corner, moving slowly and calmly, without a care in the world.

Chi raised her hand. The officers tensed in response.

Then, a pale young man appeared around the corner. His hair was dark, his body tall and lanky, and he was dressed all in black. He carried a carbine machine gun and had a knife strapped to his thigh. He was wearing a chilly brittle smile.

He raised the machine gun. Chi grabbed a chair and hurled it at him with a strength her twig-thin limbs shouldn’t have had. The chair clattered against his long legs, throwing him off balance. She squeezed off a few shots. One caught him in the thigh and another in the shoulder.

He open-fired on them.

One of Chi’s officers dove in front of her, shielding her from the rain of bullets at the price of his own life. His breath was hot and moist on her face.

Over his shoulder, Chi fired again and hit him in the throat.

In a rain of blood and choking gasps, the young man went down.

Chi shoved her gun back into her holster and dashed off for help. What better place to get hurt than in a hospital?

Several nurses and doctors were already barreling up the stairs and pouring out of the elevator at top speed.

The hallway smelled of gunpowder and blood. One of the lights flickered overhead, but didn’t go out. Again, the only sounds were a clock ticking somewhere and the lights buzzing like bees and the police officers’ heavy breathing.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 10: Dream Sequence: Real or Not?

Chapter Text

SakuraSyaoranLiTsubasa asked me if I worked in a hospital or knew someone who did…

Well, I don’t.

I introduce you all to the wonders of Google and/or guess-estimation.

While the gunfire had riddled the silence of the hospital, Sakura stayed with Syaoran. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, one leg tucked underneath her body and her hands clenched into fists in her lap. Her short white skirt was sticking to the backs of her thighs, goose bumps rose on her arms, and she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Not for the first time, Sakura wished she was wearing the same sheer white pantyhose that Tomoyo and the other nurses wore.

Behind her, Syaoran was shaking so hard that she thought his body would break into countless little pieces.

“Shh,” she whispered, both to herself and to him. “Shh-shh…”

Over the sound of gunfire, Sakura heard another sound that chilled her to her very core. A small keening little sound, reminiscent of a mewling kitten, was issuing from the young man. It was a tiny noise, faint, almost inaudible.

“Shh,” Sakura whispered and reached blindly behind her. Her fingertips found his knee, raised and bony and so warm in her hands under the quilted hospital blanket. She felt his muscles jerk and coil, tensing into cold stone.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Syaoran’s heated fingers found hers on his knee. He gripped her hand, twining their fingers, and he stayed like that—clutching her hand—until the sounds of gunfire faded from the hallway. Then, as much as Sakura hated to, she pried her hand from his and dashed to the door. For a moment, she listened at the door, but the smell of blood drove her to open it.

She couldn’t look back at Syaoran to see him still reaching out, searching for the warmth and comfort of her.

…

The sight that greeted Sakura in the sterile white linoleum hall wasn’t enough to make her nauseous, considering all the blood she saw on a daily basis, but it was enough to make her feel a little queasy at the pain people could inflict on each other. Then, she slipped into Nurse Sakura mode and rushed to help.

She kneeled at the side of the only officer down in the hallway. Chi was already pressing down on the wounds in his chest. Wisps of platinum hair hung around her pretty porcelain doll face and her blue eyes were dark and serious.

One casualty after all the gunfire she had heard being exchanged didn’t seem too bad.

“What was he hit with?”

Chi inhaled deeply: the scent of blood and gunpowder. “9mm,” she said solidly.

“Hollow point?” Sakura asked.

Chi shook her head. “Not used in carbine sub-machine guns. I think it was a Sterling,” she explained. “9mm rounds, old fashioned, last used in the Gulf War. Someone must have been holding onto it for a long time. It’s heavy, but heavy-duty. I’m not sure my man will pull through.”

Sakura elbowed her out of the way to let another nurse take over. “Don’t think that way. Everything’s going to be fine,” she murmured. Then, they had the officer on a stretcher and were hustling the man into Trauma. The surgery light lit, red and bright.

Sakura was left standing in the glossy bloody hallway with Chi.

The uninjured officers had taken up their posts again, but the night shift nurses were checking their eyes and reflexes for signs of shock. Only one other officer was taken away. His eyes had rolled back in his head, but he managed to remain standing even unconscious. He, too, was bustled off into Trauma.

“Chi?” Sakura asked.

The young woman turned to look at her. Her blue eyes were distant, glassy, and heavy with tears.

“Dr. Fluorite is with him. He’ll pull through. Everything is going to be okay,” Sakura said and hugged Chi gently.

Chi patted her back as if Sakura was the one who felt weak. Then, she pulled away and headed for the small bench situated outside the swinging doors that led to Trauma. She sat down there, a pale beautiful doll in a dark deadly uniform. She looked like a snake–gorgeous and poisonous.

Sakura looked at her hands, bloody and glossy, red on pale cream. Her white uniform was bloody, too, crimson and snow.

She went to the fallen assailant. His throat was torn open like a birthday present. He had bled out seconds after the fatal shot even if he had somehow survived the severing of his spinal column.

“Hey, Sakura,” one of the nurses said. “Could you give us a hand?”

“Sure.”

“One… two… three!”

They heaved the young man onto a second stretcher. His head lolled on his torn neck, turned in Sakura’s direction, and she nearly dropped the stretcher.

The young man, the assailant, was Touya!

The man who had been f*cked in front of her.

She had seen inside his pink intestines, seen his asshole stuffed with that monstrous fake vibrating co*ck, and Yukito bent underneath him sucking his co*ck. She had heard Touya licking Yukito like a lollipop, moaning and screaming.

She remembered the tingling in her womb, the embarrassment of her puss* dripping onto the fake purple co*ck on that f*cking stool below her. The anguish in her cold bloodless feet, ankles shackled to the stool, legs spread so wide. Then, she had fallen onto the mushroomed head. Her muscles had been plowed aside until the head pushed up against her cervix.

Touya had clapped for her. Then, he turned on the vibrator.

Sakura shivered at the thought of the vibrations rocking her guts with intense sick pleasure. Touya had touched her, flicked her pearl, suckled her, and rolled her cl*t between his teeth.

When that was over, Sakura only dimly recalled him freeing her and lifting her off the co*ck. Her muscles had sucked and clutched at the invasion, resisting the removal. He had lifted her legs over his shoulders and pushed her slit up against his face. His tongue had been inside her, licking her walls and cleaning her nectar off her nether lips in some sick twisted kiss.

Then, she remembered nothing and woke up in her own bed with no signs of anything on her body.

She had thought that was all a dream!

Sakura felt sick. She ran to the bathroom, scrubbed her hands raw, and wiped some blood off her knees with a wet paper towel. She slicked some hair back off her face and splashed cool water on her throat. Her stomach heaved and bile rose up in the back of her throat. Gripping the sides of the sink, Sakura managed to get a grip back on herself.

It hadn’t been a dream…

Oh, God…

She had been violated.

It hadn’t been a dream!

There you go, SakuraSyaoranLiTsubasa, I hope that answered all your questions.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 11: Several People, Status: Broken

Chapter Text

I’m so tired.

All Sakura wanted was to go home and take a hot shower, but her shift didn’t end for a few more hours. Feeling drained, she scraped her hair back into something resembling a ponytail and hurried back to Syaoran’s room. Sakura didn’t see the extra figure in the room until she was already seated on the edge of Syaoran’s bed. Syaoran was sitting up, staring blindly toward the door.

“Syaoran, what’s wrong?” Sakura whispered.

Silently, he raised his hand and pointed.

Officer Kurogane was waiting inside the room, standing with his back against the wall next to the door. He was gazing at Sakura and then his crimson eyes shifted to Syaoran. Syaoran felt the eyes and began shivering.

Sakura shushed him. “Officer Kurogane,” she murmured. “What can I help you with, sir?”

“Nothing. I’ve seen all I need to see,” he growled.

“What?” Sakura asked and wrinkled her brow.

“It’s not safe for Syaoran here in the hospital anymore,” Kurogane told her plainly. “It’s against police procedure, but I think we should move him out of this place.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. “But, he’s still so hurt. He needs medical attention and TLC and I’ve made some headway with him–”

“I know,” Kurogane said darkly. “That’s why I was here waiting for you.”

“What?”

“He trusts you more than anyone else who’s come into this room. Everyone else sends him up against the wall, screaming that silent scream of his, except you. You can walk right up to him and sit on the edge of his bed with him.” Kurogane crossed the space between them and sat down in the chair next to the bed. “If I sign off on police guard, can the kid stay with you?”

Sakura was glad she was already sitting down or else she might have fallen.

Kurogane’s cheeks were pink and his eyes darted restlessly, nervously, around the room. He was embarrassed to be asking her for something like this.

Sakura smiled. “Of course,” she said. “I’d be happy to take care of Syaoran at my house, but I only live in an apartment. It’s rather small.”

Kurogane looked happy to be back in his own territory. He cracked his knuckles and scrubbed his finger through his dark hair. “I just have to sign it off with Fai and I hope to have him moved out within the next few hours,” he explained.

“But, my shift doesn’t end for another couple hours. Almost six,” she said. “I can’t just leave.”

“I’ll pay you myself if it comes down to it, but this case is high priority,” Kurogane said. “And Syaoran’s father is… Well, someone close to me. It’s important that the kid is well taken care of.”

Sakura nodded. “You’ll talk to Dr. Fai about making sure I don’t lose my job, right?”

Kurogane grunted. “Of course. Fai owes me a favor,” he said.

“Alright, then,” Sakura said. “I just want to check on Tomoyo and then we can talk about getting Syaoran safely out of the hospital.”

Kurogane nodded. “Don’t mention this to anyone. It’s to be a police secret.”

She nodded.

Quietly, Sakura touched Syaoran’s hand and told him, “I’ll be back soon.” His skin was cold to the touch, chilled, but dry. “Okay, Syaoran?”

He was staring through her, but after a moment, he nodded slowly.

Smiling faintly, Sakura and Kurogane left the room.

…

Sakura knocked lightly on the door to Tomoyo’s room and then pushed it gently open. Tomoyo was lying propped up on a stack of pillows. Her dark onyx hair was fanned out across the white sheet. Her face was swollen and bruised, but she was awake which showed that she hadn’t suffered from a severe concussion.

“Hey, Tomoyo,” Sakura murmured. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. I heard you found me. Did you get the man who attacked me?” Tomoyo asked and turned down the volume on the television. A soap opera was on. Tomoyo must have been concerned to be ignoring the late night dramas.

Sakura nodded and sat down in the chair at Tomoyo’s bedside. “Yes, Chi shot him.”

“Is he dead?”

“Yeah,” Sakura told her.

“Oh…” Tomoyo murmured.

“Oh?” Sakura muttered. “You were attacked and yet all you have to say is ‘oh’?”

Tomoyo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Well, he just came out of nowhere and he…” she hesitated and looked back at the television for a moment. Then she turned to Sakura. “He pinned me up against the wall in the break room. He smelled so good and his body was so hard and warm, so powerful, like an animal. He kissed me and put his tongue in my mouth.” Her face got red and hot, but she continued anyway. “He squeezed my breast and rolled my nipple between his fingers. It felt so good, but so wrong.”

The worst best feeling.

“I wet my panties for that guy,” Tomoyo confessed. “He reached up my skirt to get inside me, but my pantyhose were in the way. I would have peeled them down and f*cked him, but he clubbed me in the face with the butt of his machine gun. I wish I was like you and just wore a skirt.”

Sakura felt bile rising up her throat.

That man had f*cked her, but she wished she could forget that.

“Tomoyo,” Sakura murmured. “He’s gone now. Would you like to have someone from the Psych Ward come down and talk to you? I’ll run up and send someone down.”

Tomoyo licked her lips. They shone glossy and wet, swollen with want. “That’s alright,” she said. “I’m fine.”

Sakura stood up and left the room. She couldn’t look back and it took all she had not to run down the hallway, pell-mell, back to Syaoran’s room. She wanted nothing more than to sit at Syaoran’s side and touch his hand for as long as he would let her, but she had one more thing to check up on before she left.

…

Chi’s officer had pulled through.

Hideki Motosuwa, the man who had taken bullets for her.

Sakura was right. Everything had turned out alright.

Her father was an amazing doctor; Fai had saved Hideki’s life.

There was nothing Chi could ever do to repay him for that.

She gripped Hideki’s hand, fingers long and tan in her small pale fingers. She feathered her lips over the back of it and then flicked out her tongue to taste the skin. The texture made her head swim and pulled her under. She bent her head and tucked her forehead into the curve of his side.

He smelled of skin, blood, and sterile bandages.

Finally, he stirred.

Hideki’s eyes creaked open, fell on her, and he smiled. “Hey, Chi,” he said softly. His voice was a croak.

Chi shushed him and pressed a cup of water to his lips. “Drink,” she said.

He did and then whispered, “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yes, thank you. Are you doing okay?”

Hideki’s eyes closed. “Sure. I’m hurting a little, but I’m alive. What could be better?”

Chi smiled. “Let me get a nurse and get you some morphine,” she said and carefully kissed his cheek.

Hideki turned his face and tried to catch her lips. Chi pulled away.

“You’re hurt,” Chi said. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

She scoffed. “Because you were just shot,” she said plainly.

“So, if something goes wrong, let me die with no regrets.”

Chi sighed heavily and stood up. She braced her hands on either side of his head and her platinum hair fell around his face in a curtain. She dipped down, hair curling around his head, and brushed her soft pink lips over his. Then, she pulled back.

“There,” she said sternly. “Now rest.”

Hideki gripped her wrist. “Chi… what’s this about…?” he murmured.

She sat down again. “You’ve known me for a long time. You know how I am,” she whispered.

“I know you never say my name and you’ll never touch me,” Hideki said gently.

Chi sighed. “Hideki,” she said and paused to swallow noisily. “Like I said, you know how I am.”

“Kiss me, please. It’s all I want from you,” he begged and squeezed her wrist.

Chi inhaled to steady herself and turned back to Hideki. She let her hair curtain their faces from the outside world again and then brushed her lips with his. Hideki lifted his chin and kissed her. Her mouth was sweet and soft, warm, and he was careful to be gentle with her.

Chi had been through hell before Fai Fluorite had adopted her from Social Services.

For years, Chi’s foster family–the Reeds–had used her in their p*rnography ring for years.

Now, she feared even Hideki’s gentle touch, his careful kisses, and soft hugs. Chi just wanted to control her body now that she could. She didn’t want anyone’s touch, anyone’s love, anyone’s attention. She just wanted her body to be hers.

Hers alone.

That was why she kept herself from him.

That was alright. Hideki could wait for her until she was ready.

He was that kind of man.

Not Touya’s kind of man.

Hideki was the right kind of man.

…

Sakura had peeked in the window of Hideki Motosuwa’s room, but elected not to enter. Chi was inside, hair curtaining their faces. Sakura didn’t want to intrude on their private intimate moment so she just waited outside, leaning against the wall next to a plain watercolor of a vase of roses and lilies.

Finally, Chi came out. Her pale porcelain face was flushed pink and her lips were rosy. Her eyes glowed.

“Hello, Sakura,” she said without looking at the young nurse.

“Hi, Chi,” Sakura said. By now she had learned not to be shocked by the young woman’s flashes of strange knowing. “Is he alright?”

“He’s alive,” Chi said and leaned against the wall next to Sakura. Her profile was sad and noble and framed by wisps of silver-blonde hair. “You were right, Sakura. I’m glad I was wrong.”

Sakura smiled. “I’m glad I was right,” she said softly and went to stand in front of Chi.

The young woman’s badge gleamed, polished, except for a spot of blood on it. Sakura hugged the young woman and Chi squeezed her back, hard.

“Thank you, Sakura,” Chi said, “for everything.”

Sakura rubbed Chi’s back. “You have to believe that you can save lives. Sometimes belief is the biggest part of being a doctor,” she said softly into Chi’s hair.

Chi nodded and whispered, “It’s like that with everything.”

Alright. Some ends are starting to come together.

Anyone starting to see the connections?

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 12: Transportation & Transgressions

Chapter Text

I’m on a roll.

In little more than an hour, Fai had gathered up some clothes that he guessed would fit Syaoran from the thrift shop down the street from the hospital. Some nice normal clothes: jeans and t-shirt and a heavy denim jacket along with some sneakers. Kurogane had called a cab for Sakura and Syaoran after the young man was carefully sedated, showered, and dressed.

Sakura had changed his bandages.

His neck was looking a lot better. The skin was bloody and raw, thick with scabs, but free of infection.

The bruises were fading like the vestiges of a sunset. The burns around his eyes were still black and bloody, but there was fresh new skin growing at the edges of the wounds.
The thick jagged cuts slicing through his lips were nothing but blood. Sakura had dabbed at the blood with hydrogen peroxide while he was sedated, dissolving the thick scabs down to the hair-thin medically precise wounds that really framed his mouth.

The skin on his wrists and ankles was smooth and unblemished, healed neatly and nicely.

The little marks on his lids and around his mouth had healed over, too. The signs of his mouth being sewn shut were gone though his voice still remained lost.

His eyes were no longer occluded with blood, but his pupils were constricted into pinpricks. He looked distant, eyes glazed and cloudy.

He was still mute…

He was still blind…

But for how much longer…?

…

Sakura was nervous, but she tried not to show it by talking to the cabby.

Argyle was cheerful and accommodating. His skin gleamed like polished ebony and he had a glowing pearl white smile. “So, you don’t think Global Warming is real?”

Sakura shook her head. “Nope, definitely a myth,” she said and shook her head. She could see Kurogane’s nondescript beige Suburban following a neat safe distance behind the cab. “The national temperature has actually gone down.”

“So, does what does your quiet companion think about the weather?” Argyle continued, looking at Sakura in the rearview mirror. He gave her a glowing smile. “He doesn’t say much, does he?”

Syaoran was pressed up against the door, gripping the handle tightly in a white-knuckled grip. In his other hand, he held Sakura’s, so tight that she had pins and needles creeping up her arm. The sun made his faint bruises look nonexistent.

He looked handsome.

Sakura carried on her fake little banter with Argyle until he pulled up in front of her grey-green apartment. Then, she tipped him nicely and guided Syaoran out of the cab. He stumbled weakly against her and, when she heaved him back onto his feet, he was hauntingly light.

How long had he been starving in his living hell?

“Come on, just up these front steps and then we’ll be in the elevator,” she said softly.

He shied away from her warm breath on his shoulder, but didn’t pull away completely. He remained gripping her hand, but that was the only contact he allowed. Sakura hauled open the door and guided him inside. The watchman stared at her when she entered, holding Syaoran’s hand low and tight.

“Sakura?! Don’t you work the nightshift? Why are you back during the day?” The watchman asked. “Stevie’s going to be disappointed that he didn’t get to see you.”

Sakura smiled, but it was strained. “I know. I’m in a bit of a hurry so can I talk to you later? When I come down to get my mail?”

“Oh, of course,” the watchman said.

Sakura guided Syaoran to the elevator and pressed the slightly singed button for floor seven. Syaoran was trembling against Sakura’s side, holding her hand tightly. They hustled down the hallway and Sakura unlocked the door to her apartment.

The door to 7B was red and chipped with tarnished bronze numbers.

Sakura inserted her key and unlocked door. Then, she guided Syaoran inside and locked the door again.

Officer Kurogane had given her a radio with a private frequency and she fished it from the pocket of her coat now.

“Umm, Officer Kurogane,” Sakura said into the radio.

“Press and hold, Sakura,” Kurogane said. His voice was crackly with static.

“Oh, sorry.” She pressed the button and held it down. “How’s that?”

“Good. Are you inside with the kid?”

“Yes,” Sakura said. She tugged lightly on Syaoran’s hand and helped him sit down on the sofa. “Are you coming up?”

“On the shift change,” Kurogane crackled. “Remember, it’s a secret that the kid is staying with you and a secret that you’re going to have cops in your apartment.”

“I know,” Sakura said. “I just hope your officers can bear sleeping on the couch and/or air-mattresses.”

“It’ll just be me,” Kurogane’s voice spat over the line. “I’ll be up in under an hour. Will you be alright that long?”

Sakura nodded.

“Sakura, are you nodding?”

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry,” Sakura said.

“Don’t worry. It happens periodically with new dispatchers,” Kurogane crackled. “It’s alright. I’ll be up soon. Call me if anything happens. We’ll be watching the front entrance. Is there a fire escape in your building?”

“No. There’s only a back entrance, but it’s a service entrance. You have to have a maintenance key to get in and we’ve had the same janitor and mechanic for the past twenty years,” Sakura explained and sat down on the couch next to Syaoran.

He fumbled for her hand, found it, and held on tightly. She tried to put her arm around him, but he strained away into the cushions so she stopped.

“Kid, you haven’t been alive for twenty years.”

“I’m twenty-seven, sir.”

The radio crackled with static.

“I’ve been friends with the night watchman since I moved in here. He tells me a lot of things about the building,” Sakura explained. “There’s only the service entrance, the front entrance, and a maintenance tunnel that runs under the building. Only telephone men can get under there and they have to go through security at the front desk.”

“Sounds good,” Kurogane said. “Alright. I’ll knock once, then twice. Let me in and only me.”

“Roger.”

Then, she laid the radio down on the coffee table.

“Syaoran,” Sakura whispered. “Are you alright?”

He stared straight ahead. Eyes distant and fixed on some invisible point.

“Come on,” she said and tugged on his hand lightly. “Let’s get you settled in. I’ve got a bed all set up for you.”

Syaoran froze in his tracks. His legs locked and buckled and folded underneath him. He braced his crumpled body on his hands and his chest heaved. He seemed unable to draw in a deep enough breath to satisfy his thin coughing chest. His face was too pale, chalky white, and waxy.

“Syaoran!” Sakura said urgently. “Syaoran! Hey, what is it?! Come on. Let’s get you to go lie down. Syaoran, come on.”

His eyes rolled back into his head and the whites were haunting and bloodshot.

“Syaoran!”

His eyes snapped back, shockingly clear and focused. He stared right into her and his lips parted in another silent scream. He pushed weakly against her shoulders, heaving her back away from him. Sakura managed to get her arms around his shoulders and press him close to her.

“Syaoran! What is it?!”

His eyes rolled again and his arms went slack. He sagged against her for a moment and Sakura shifted his limp body so she could cradle his head in the crook of her arm. His hair was soft and dark against her pale cream-colored skin and sweaty. It stuck to her skin.

“Syaoran!”

His eyes snapped back, bright and focused, glazed and then fluttered closed. A croaking issued from his throat as if his vocal chords were stirring to life again.

“Syaoran, hey, come back to me now.”

He continued that horrible croaking sound. His throat flashed beneath the thick bandages and blood began to seep through the white gauze. A single rivulet ran out from under the bandage and rolled into the cup created by his long protruding collarbone.

“B…” he croaked.

Sakura could do nothing but encourage him at this point. “Yes, alright? What is it, Syaoran?”

“…be…b…”

Sakura smoothed some hair back from his forehead. His skin was cool and soft.

“…b…be…”

“Shh, come on. What is it? You can do it.”

“…b…bed…”

“Bed?” Sakura whispered. “What about the bed?”

His head thrashed around on his thin neck. He shook his head violently. “…bed…n…no…”

“Shh, shh,” Sakura cooed. “What happened to you?”

“…No bed…”

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 13: Without Preface: Revelations!

Chapter Text

Nothing to say.

T_T

Officer Kurogane continued watching Sakura’s grey-green apartment building, waiting for the shift change to take place inside. Then, he would sneak inside and make his way to Apartment 7B.

Under no circ*mstances was the kid supposed to leave police protective custody, yet here he sat.

This movement was authorized only because Kurogane was a police chief and highly revered in the city. With such a high profile case, Li Syaoran should be kept under lock and key without a care to his personal mental choices in certain night-shift nurses.

Fai had wanted to come along. Hell, Fai had wanted to bring Chi and batten down all the hatches. If it was left up to Fai, the whole family would be barricaded in this young woman’s, Sakura’s, apartment, but Kurogane had managed to convince his lover otherwise.

Chi was still at the hospital with Hideki and Fai was still working his shift. They had promised not to swing by and check up on Syaoran or Kurogane or Sakura on pain of death. Kurogane had threatened handcuffs and spankings, among other things.

They might not stop Fai, but they would stop Chi. The beautiful porcelain doll woman-child was far more noticeable than one tall lanky blonde doctor. Kurogane didn’t know of anything that could successfully stop Fai for very long. If there was such a thing, he would certainly like to know about it so he didn’t have to resort to handcuffs every time he wanted something, including sex. Not to say that his relationship with the doctor was dangerous or abusive, but Fai was simply meant to be on the bottom. He was made that way and Kurogane didn’t like giving his partner that much control over his body.

Yeah, he had issues.

Who didn’t?

Hell, their whole family was f*cked up and had been f*cked with…

In more ways than one…

…

Finally, as night was descending like a heavy cloudy quilt, the change occurred inside. Kurogane figured he had little more than two minutes, tops, to navigate his way through the lobby and get safely into the elevator. The camera there was probably not heatedly watched since there was a watchman in the lobby, but he wouldn’t feel completely content until he was inside Sakura’s apartment with the door closed behind him.

He hustled out of his commonplace beige car, jolting as the cold sliced through him and stole the breath from his lungs. He felt a stab of pity for the kid, out in this weather in those thin threadbare clothes. He made a mental note to call Fai and tell him to get some heavier, warmer clothes for the kid and give them to Sakura. She would be the only one who could come and go freely through the apartment building without setting off any questions.

The ruse was in place. She was taking some time off to take care of her ailing brother who had recently lost his voice and sight.

Once the kid began to see and speak again, they would be ushering him through therapy and getting the lawsuit for what had happened to him rolling.

Kurogane sighed in relief to be in the warm lobby, hurried to the elevator, punched the up arrow, and waited. He glanced at his watch as the door ground open. Then, he stabbed the button for floor seven with his finger and waited impatiently, nervously, as the elevator crawled up the floors. Finally, the doors peeled open. He knocked on Sakura’s chipped red door with bronze 7B drilled crookedly into the wood. Had he not met her personally and heard Fai’s good words about her, he would have felt as if he was being set up. The door looked like it would open into a white-trash meth-lab.

He knocked once then twice, resisted the urge to scour his knuckles on his slacks, and she pulled it open with a tight smile.

“Officer Kurogane, come in.”

He grunted and pushed past her.

The kid was laid out on the couch, eyes staring open at the ceiling. He didn’t blink, but Sakura pressed her fingers at the corners of his eyes with a measured hand, forcing him to blink. She brushed some lank brown hair tenderly off his forehead and perched on the edge of her battered coffee table.

“He’s been like that for a while now,” she confessed. “I’m not sure moving him was a good thing.”

“You were supposed to set him up in a bed,” Kurogane grumbled.

Sakura glared at him and he was shocked by the ferocity in her jade-green eyes. “I don’t appreciate that. I tried to, but he just fell apart. He started shaking and rasping,” she said. Her voice was deadly soft, angry, but not at Kurogane. “He said, ‘No bed.’”

“He spoke?!”

Sakura shook her head. “He was terrified. I wouldn’t call it a breakthrough, just nerves and fear forcing him to communicate.”

“But, he spoke,” Kurogane protested. The kid had spoken!

Sakura touched Syaoran’s face again. A single tear trailed down the side of his pale cheek. “Officer Kurogane, I know the case is…” she trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe what she wanted to ask.

Kurogane’s crimson eyes were staring at her, hard.

“Umm, whatever happened to him, do you know where?” She asked finally.

“Where?” Kurogane repeated. That was the last thing he expected her to have asked and that took him slightly off-guard. “Like, where they took him?”

Sakura nodded. “Was it,” she hesitated, “near here?” Her thoughts went back to the third alley, to the door that was no longer there, to the room where she had been violated. She shuddered at the memory of Touya’s tongue in her slit, suckling her pearl, and the sound of her dripping juices. Shame welled up like a stone in her throat and her mouth tasted like ash.

“Do you know something?” Kurogane asked sternly.

Sakura started. “Are you saying you suspect me of allowing something like this to happen to people?!” She touched Syaoran’s lids again and held them closed for a long moment before allowing them to slide open again. “Am I a suspect, Officer Kurogane?”

He shook his head and ran a hand through his thick black hair. “No. the way Fai talks about you. If you became capable of something like this, the very world as we know it would end. That’s why I’m trusting you with the kid,” he confessed.

“Why is Syaoran so important to you? Do you have a personal stake in what happens to him?” Sakura asked. “Other than just being a decent human being?”

Kurogane was once again startled. The girl was perceptive to a fault. He smiled to himself and folded his hands in front of his mouth. He couldn’t remember the exact moment he had sat down in her armchair, but he was glad he was seated lest his shaking legs give him away. “I tell you what, tell me what you were getting at earlier and I’ll tell you why the kid is so important to me. Deal?”

Sakura eyed him and then nodded. “Alright, but you’ll have to bear with me. It’s a long story.”

Kurogane settled back in the chair, resting his hands in his lap.

Sakura took a deep breath. “Remember when you woke me up at Syaoran’s bedside?”

“When you were supposed to be home since your shift was over. Yes,” Kurogane rattled off like only someone from law enforcement could.

“Well, I took the bus home and I have to walk past three alleys between the bus stop and my apartment. I was a little nervous, but I couldn’t explain why,” Sakura paused to touch Syaoran’s staring eyes closed again. “Someone grabbed me and dragged me down that third alley. There was a door that I fell through and–”

“Have you checked back to see if the door was still there?” Kurogane interrupted.

Sakura nodded. “Yes.”

“And?”

“It’s gone.”

“Doors don’t just vanish.”

“I know. I thought it was just a dream, but that man who attacked Tomoyo and tried to get at Syaoran today,” she began to realize just how crazy she sounded right now, but persisted, “I’ve seen him before. He’s the one who grabbed me and hauled me through that door.”

She swallowed.

Kurogane sensed that she wasn’t finished speaking and that whatever she was going to tell him next was painful for her to recall so he remained silent.

Finally, Sakura continued. “His name was Touya and he said I was to be shown.” She tried to capture the inflection Touya had put into that word, but it didn’t come out quite right so she made finger quotations.

Kurogane raised a brow, but said nothing.

Sakura stared at Syaoran’s face when she finally gathered the courage to continue. “I was knocked out and brought someplace else. He stripped me and made me straddle this stool with the big fake co*ck mounted in the center of it. Then, he had a friend of his come down–Yukito–and they… had intercourse in front of me to… make me…” her face burned with shame “…wet…”

Syaoran blinked all on his own and she cooed soft words to him.

“I stood over that thing for what felt like hours and then I just couldn’t anymore. I fell on it. Touya clapped for me and turned it on and he,” a single tear trailed down her cheek, “he violated me.”

“He raped you?”

Sakura shook her head. “N-no, he… he had his mouth and his f-fingers on me, but the only thing i-inside me was that vibrator.” She shuddered. “I blacked out and woke up in my own bed, dressed in pajamas that I had put on top of the washing machine. No one would have found them easily and there were no signs on my body.” She heaved a shaking breath. “I thought it was all a dream.”

Kurogane could have screamed. He was doing everything he could to bring down the people responsible for doing these atrocities. First, Chi. Then, Syaoran. Now, Sakura. It seemed their reach extended everywhere and would not be stopped.

Desperate to slow the spread of frustration, Kurogane turned his attention back to Sakura. Syaoran was beginning to stir. Kurogane had precious moments before the nurse’s attention diverted completely to her patient.

“After Touya grabbed you, did you seen anyone else?”

“Yukito and,” Sakura stared hard at the blank wall, “there was another man.”

“Did you get his name?”

“He said if he told me, he would have to kill me.”

“What did he look like?”

Sakura wrinkled her mouth. “He was big with a very square jaw.” She gestured with her hand. “He was dressed finely: a three piece suit with a blood-colored tie. That’s all I can remember. I was a little distracted.”

Kurogane nodded. “Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?”

Sakura bit her lip and then her face lit up, before darkening again. “This must sound silly, but he had a monocle. A little monocle in the breast pocket of his suit.”

Kurogane’s blood ran cold as ice in his veins.

Sakura snapped her fingers in front of Syaoran’s face.

Syaoran closed his eyes and shifted position on the narrow couch. Then, he drew in that deep breath of someone about to wake up.

Sakura glanced at Kurogane. “Well?” Her eyes flashed to Syaoran.

The policeman stared hard at her and then averted his eyes to the kid. His crimson eyes grew very sad and gentle. Then, he said plainly without any mingling of words, “The kid is my son.”

And Syaoran’s amber eyes fluttered open.

Whoa! Anyone see that coming?

This story is getting really dramatic.

Lines will be crossed, just be warned.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 14: Burning Game: Smoke Equals Fire

Chapter Text

Sorry, so sorry for my unprecedented bomb dropping. Someone pointed out that Fei-Wang is Syaoran’s father. Ah-ha! Well, IrisMidnight, you caught the drama before I got the chance to get around to it. So just hang in there.

Sakura felt her mouth drop open.

He was what?!

But she was prevented from asking further questions by Syaoran’s awakening. His amber eyes fluttered open, clear and wide. They were still bloodshot at the corners, but focused. When Sakura passed her hand in front of his face, casting a shadow, his irises expanded and contracted. He also surreptitiously followed the passage of her arm without moving his head.

“Syaoran, can you see me?” Sakura asked gently.

Kurogane tried to put a lid on the mirth that threatened to overrun him. The kid could just be guessing Sakura’s movement or the nurse could be mistaken…

But, ever so slightly, the young man’s head shifted in a faint but perceivable nod.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Sakura asked and displayed three very close to his face.

His eyes widened and his mouth drew into a thin line. Slowly, he reached for her hand. She denied him the one displaying the fingers and allowed him to grip her free hand. This appeared to comfort him on some unknown level, because he raised his own hand and presented three fingers also.

Sakura brought her arm as far away from him as her arm would allow and held up only one finger. “How many now?”

Syaoran squinted and then showed her one finger.

Sakura smiled. “Good, good. Now, Syaoran, could you try to say ‘one’?”

He shook his head, eyes rolling wildly.

“Please, just a little try?”

He stopped shaking his head and looked very hard at Sakura. Then, he wet his lips and nodded slightly. His throat worked furiously, but no sound emerged, not even a croak. His eyes rolled again with fear and desperation. Sakura gave his hand a little squeeze and shushed him.

“It’s alright. That was good,” she cooed. “You can see me. Can you see Officer Kurogane?”

Syaoran’s eyes widened and his head snapped in Kurogane’s direction. Sakura saw the blur in his eyes when his head swam, but once he could see clearly again, he stared at Kurogane. Neither of them moved or looked away.

Finally, Kurogane said, “Hey kid.”

Syaoran just gazed at him, showing no outward signs of recognition.

Kurogane suddenly looked very old and worn out. He picked a thread off his slacks.

“Syaoran,” Sakura murmured. “Do you remember Kurogane?”

He turned back to Sakura, looked at their twined hands, and abruptly pulled away from her. He rolled over on the narrow couch, pressing his face into the cushions, and wouldn’t be moved.

Sakura sighed heavily and turned to face Kurogane. “I’m sorry, but he’s stressed out. His mind must be blocking things in an effort to protect him from what happened. With time, like his vision, I’m sure his memories will return,” she explained. “I’m sure he’ll remember you soon.”

Kurogane nodded and put his face in his hands. He was very aware of the nurse watching him and so stifled his pain. “Do you mind if I use your phone? I need to call someone,” he asked.

Sakura shook her head. “I only have a pager, remember?”

Kurogane felt silly. “Of course, sorry.”

Sakura smiled at him. “Is it important?”

Kurogane denied the urge to tell her the truth. “Not particularly,” he said.

“There’s a phone with in the utility room down the hall. I use it to call Tomoyo sometimes. No one else ever touches it or goes in there. I have to wipe the dust off it,” she said and smiled softly. “I’m sure Syaoran and I will be alright here for a few minutes.”

Kurogane smiled back at her. He couldn’t resist.

She really was a special girl.

…

The utility room was dark and a bit chilly, but Kurogane didn’t plan to stay for long. He had a post to return to and was determined not to neglect it, no matter the cost, but… Mother Fai should know about his Syaoran and Kurogane just wanted to get the grief off his chest.

He punched the familiar number into the old corded landline and waited patiently while it rang. He could just see his lover now, navigating through the cluttered house in that fuzzy blue robe of his. Then, Fai answered in his usual cheerful voice. For some reason, the sound of Fai’s voice made unwarranted tears spring to Kurogane’s eyes.

He struggled to blink them back and rasped out, “Hey, Fai.”

“Kuro-cutie!” Fai squealed. Then, as if sensing the anguish in his lover, he asked, “What’s happened?”

Kurogane worked up some spit and swallowed. The phone was cold against his face. “The kid can see again,” he told the doctor.

“Wonderful!” He heard Fai clapping his slender white hands.

“But…”

Fai was silent. Kurogane couldn’t even hear him breathing.

“He looked right at me and… didn’t know who I was,” Kurogane whispered.

“Oh, Kuro-pie,” Fai crooned. “That’s just his mind protecting him. He’ll remember in time. Just be patient, alright?”

“That’s what the girl said,” Kurogane said with a wry half-smile.

“Then it must be true.” Fai was quiet for a moment. “What else is there?”

Kurogane took a deep breath to steady him and then asked, “Is Chi home?”

“No, she’s still at the hospital with Hideki. I’m supposed to pick her up in an hour.” Fai was quiet patience. He didn’t make a sound, just waited.

Kurogane could just see him now, maybe sitting at the kitchen table with the phone cradled in his gentle hands. The robe was too big, probably sliding down one skinny white shoulder, hanging low enough to expose long collarbones and pale pectorals, maybe just a hint of flat stomach. Fai would be twisting a lock of hair around one long thin finger, his blue eyes dark with concern. Kurogane wished he could take his beautiful love into his arms and just hold onto him.

The world shouldn’t be permitted to get so bleak.

“It’s the girl…” He said finally.

“Sakura?” Panic was in Fai’s voice, but he wasn’t jumping to any conclusions, not yet.

Kurogane nodded and pictured his love’s face: that cheery smile and bright shining eyes. Fai when he was happy and shuddered to think that it might be a while before that face returned. He didn’t want to cause that pain to someone he cared so deeply about, but he wanted Fai to hear it from him, not from the news or the paper.

“The girl… they got her, too…”

…

It was all Fai could do not to drop the phone. He put his face in his hands and groaned in pure anguish. “Fei-Wang did. Oh God,” he moaned. “Is she alright?”

“She thought it was a dream, but it couldn’t have been. She saw that stupid trademark monocle and named his two top cohorts.” Kurogane’s voice was thick and strained. He sounded distant, so very far away.

Fai shook his head and finally laid it down on the cool marble of the kitchen table. “That was Touya today in the hospital. He’s on a slab in the morgue now. He’ll get away with doing what he did to our Chi and Syaoran and Sakura.”

“He’s dead. He got his. Let it go.”

“God, why does this happen?” Fai whispered.

“God has nothing to do with it,” Kurogane growled. “Fei-Wang needs to be brought down before he can cause any more damage.”

Fai tried to keep his voice steady. “First, my beautiful Chi and then, wonderful determined Syaoran. Now, my Sakura. Why does this all keep happening to us?” Fai didn’t mention Yui and neither did Kurogane. “Can he be stopped?”

“If we can get our hands on him and get one of our kids or Sakura to testify,” Kurogane said sourly. “Listen, I’ve got to get back to the kids. Fai, I’ll call you again if I get the chance to, alright?”

Fai sniffed. “Of course. I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow. Use Sakura’s pager to page me if something else happens. Goodnight, Kurogane.”

“Wait. Fai?” He could hear his dark angel breathing, deep and heavy.

“Yeah?”

“Just,” he paused, “be careful. Fei-Wang Reed reaches everywhere. All over this city.”

“I know,” Fai whispered. “I’ve seen it.”

And then he hung up.

…

Fai felt ill. He splashed some cool water on his face and neck. He didn’t dry it, just let the water run down his chest.

Chi had escaped Fei-Wang’s Fantasy Ring when she was eleven and run to the police to reveal him. She was his daughter, his f*cking blood, and she was so beaten and bloody that there almost wasn’t a face beneath the swelling. The shock had taken her and by the time to woken up to tell them what had happened to her, Fei-Wang had already moved his ring and left no trail to follow.

Fai had always wanted a daughter and to save Chi from other potentially damaging environments, Kurogane and Fai had adopted her. She was as close to them as the child they couldn’t possibly have as a couple. Now, she was his beautiful deadly albino viper on the police force. Nothing would stop her. Before she could ever try to love, she vowed to stop Fei-Wang’s ring.

She spoke constantly of Fei-Wang’s son: a beautiful young boy with amber colored eyes. And Syaoran had been a boy then.

When Chi was twelve, Syaoran escaped as well. Like her, he had suffered so much that he was barely standing when he stumbled into the station. Unlike her, he had stayed awake long enough to give the latest whereabouts of Fei-Wang’s Fantasy Ring.

The police had captured several underlings and freed several captured and chained prostitutes forced to star in p*rnography. But Fei-Wang himself still eluded them. The only thing anyone could tell the police about him was that he sometimes wore a monocle or kept it in his pocket.

The man remained as slick a smoke.

Then, Fei-Wang had captured Syaoran and taken him back. Syaoran had been in the man’s hands for only two weeks and couldn’t speak or see upon his discovery. He hadn’t even escaped. He had been given up to Kurogane and Fai, laid right on the doorstep of their home with a ribbon tied up in a bow around his chest.

It was all a game to Fei-Wang.

And Fai had been playing for a long time, unable to escape.

Fei-Wang Reed, Syaoran and Chi’s true father, had stolen Fai’s twin brother Yui at a young age. Fai was forever playing the game, trapped in the never-ending cycle. If he tried to stop playing, Fei-Wang hurt someone precious to him. As long at Fai played, Syaoran, Sakura, Chi, and Kurogane would be safe, but for how much longer could the game possibly last…?

Dun, dun, dunnnnnnnn.

There you have it.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 15: Communication: Skin to Skin

Chapter Text

Alright. I just want to say that I don’t really ship KuroFai, but I needed some kind of relationship for Fai to up the angst and didn’t feel like creating a girlfriend. Plus, Kurogane needed someone, too. This way, I kill two birds with one stone.

After Kurogane left the apartment, Sakura sat down on the edge of the sofa and tried to roll Syaoran over. She called his name and gently tugged at his shoulder, but he only stiffened. Finally, she settled for that and sat brushing her fingers through his soft chocolate hair for several minutes. She felt the tension ease from him shoulders and he finally turned his head to look at her. There was a question in his face and in her eyes.

“Syaoran, do you not remember anything?”

His brow furrowed and he turned his waist to face her. He grasped her hand in her lap and stared at their laced fingers. Then, he pulled free and traced the tip of his finger on her arm. He did this for a moment, glanced at her, and suddenly appeared very frustrated that she didn’t understand. He repeated the pattern almost desperately.

Puzzled, Sakura studied the pattern he was tracing on her skin, but still couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was doing. “Syaoran, wait. I don’t understand,” she confessed. “What are you trying to tell me?”

He gazed at her, drilling his beautiful amber eyes into her face. He sat up, swayed dizzily, and touched his mouth.

“Are you thirsty?”

His eyes narrowed and he very purposefully traced a pattern on her skin.

No.

Startled, Sakura almost pulled her hand away. He dug his fingers into her skin and brought a hand to her face. His fingertips were icy, but she let him cup her face. Jade-green met amber and held. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Syaoran let his gaze drop. He stared at their hands again and a shudder ran through him.

“Do you need to tell me something?”

He turned over her hand and wrote in the palm of her hand with his fingertip.

Yes.

He looked nervously around the apartment and then back at her face before continuing.

That man is coming.

“Officer Kurogane is staying with us. He’s here to protect you.”

Syaoran shook his head.

Not him.

“Who?”

My father.

“But–”

Syaoran shook his head.

My blood father.

“You’re safe now, Syaoran. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Sakura whispered and tried to clasp his hand in that gentle comforting way he allowed, but Syaoran shied away from her touch. His eyes were wild, rolling in his sockets, becoming bloodshot again. Sakura tried to calm him, but he was writing in her hand again.

I tried to help him stop.

“Stop what?”

He stared hard at her, eyes filling with crystals that didn’t fall.

Stop f*cking me.

Sakura ground her teeth to keep the tears at bay. “I know, Syaoran. I know, but it’s alright now. You’re safe now.”

Syaoran shook his head again, firmly, desperately. He glanced at the door and then back at her open palm. He appeared to be struggling with what he wanted to say. Another shudder ran through his body, shaking him to the core. Sakura heard his teeth chatter.

Finally, he gripped her wrist so tightly it was almost painful.

It’s not just me. He’s f*cking my family.

“Your family?”

Syaoran’s brow wrinkled again.

“Do you remember anything about them?”

Yes.

Sakura swallowed. “This man… who is he f*cking?”

Syaoran’s head snapped back as if she had struck him.

My sister. Fai’s brother.

His amber eyes drilled into her again and his cold fingers touched her thigh. Sakura tensed, almost as fearful as Syaoran. His fingers stopped at the edge of her short white skirt. Her thighs trembled and she couldn’t get a deep breath into her lungs.

f*cked you, too.

Then, Syaoran released her wrist and rolled over again. He pressed his face into the cushions and let his breath out in a rush.

“Syaoran?” Sakura choked out. She touched his back, feeling the dips and bumps of his ribs through his shirt. “How… how did you know?”

The young man rolled over again. He looked so very small, frail, and his skin was as thin and white as paper. He took her hand, palm up, and wrote.

We can tell our own.

Sakura felt a sob catching in her throat, but she swallowed the tears.

Syaoran was watching her face. When the first tear rolled down her cheek, he just watched it. It hung under her chin like a jewel, like a decoration, before rolling down her flashing throat and disappearing below the fold of her collar.

It gets easier, but your body is never yours again.

He closed his eyes and it was like a bright light going off.

No bed.

Then, he rolled over and tucked his arms between himself and the sofa. He was deeply unconscious from exhaustion and stress within seconds. Sakura covered him with a blanket, scrubbed her hands over her face, and stood shakily from the couch.

…

She waited for Kurogane to return from the utility room and then informed him that she was going to take a shower.

“Did the kid…?” He trailed off.

Sakura wouldn’t look at him. She was gazing at her feet.

“He’s scared,” she whispered and then asked, “Is is possible he went to whoever did this to him?”

Kurogane was taken aback. “Never,” he said.

Sakura nodded. “But, when I was in that place, the man with the monocle said that Syaoran had liked the things they did to him when it first began.”

Kurogane repressed a shudder. “Fei-Wang Reed is a liar and a sick twisted man.”

“Fei-Wang Reed?” Sakura whispered.

“You may as well know, he’s the man behind all this.”

“Xing-Huo Reed works in the hospital. Are they related?” She whispered.

“Xing-Huo Reed?” Kurogane repeated. A cold chill ran down his spine. “I’ll radio the station and have them look into that. Is there anything else you know, anything at all?”

Sakura shook her head. “Syaoran seems to remember some things,” she whispered. “A sister and Fai’s brother. Does that mean anything to you?”

Kurogane bit his tongue. “Go take a shower, kid. Everything’s going to be alright.”

But, in no way was it.

Just a bit of a filler, to build tension and clear everything up for slow people.

I’m worried that Syaoran may be coming around a little too quickly, though…

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 16: Frogiven & The Cleanest Sheets

Chapter Text

I have no idea what to do right now so I’m just going to go with the flow and hope something comes to me as I type.

Epiphanies always tended to strike Sakura when she was in the shower.

She was belting out "Forgiven" by Relient K, humming the opening music before breaking out into song. Her voice reverberated through the bathroom and the drum of the water softened the squeaking edges of her vocal chords.

Overall, it sounded rather nice to her biased ears. Nowhere near as moving or lovely as the band, but pretty.

“Oh yes, I know this tension that you speak of
We're in the palm of a hand making a fist
It'd be best for one of us to speak up
But we prefer to pretend it does not exist

And you can't see past the blood on my hands
To see that you've been aptly damned
To fail and fail again

Cause we're all guilty of the same things
We think the thoughts whether or not we see them through
And I know that I have been forgiven
And I just hope you can forgive me too

So don't you dare blame me for
Prying open the door
That's unleashed the bitterness
That's here in the midst of this
Sometimes we live for no one but ourselves

And what we've been striving for
Has turned into nothing more
Than bodies limp on the floor
Victims of falling short
We kiss goodbye the cheek of our true love
And you can't see past the blood on my hands
To see that you've been aptly damned
To fail and fail again

Cause we're all guilty of the same things
We think the thoughts whether or not we see them through
And I know that I have been forgiven
And I just hope you can forgive me too.”

She didn’t repeat the chorus a third time and instead let her voice fade out into the rataplan of the shower.

It was then that it struck her.

Syaoran’s mind had sealed off both his sight and his voice. By definition of repression, those two senses had something very strongly to do with what happened to him. Maybe he had been threatened not to tell and so his voice was locked deep inside his throat. Most troubling was his loss of vision. What could he possibly have been seeing…?

She scrubbed her fingers through her short pale hair, rinsed it out, and shook her head so the wet tendrils slapped at her shoulders. Her skin was pink from the hot water and tender, sensitive. The temptation to scrub until she began to bleed was strong, but she resisted the urge.

People needed her.

She couldn’t fall apart now.

And so, she resolved to be strong.

…

Kurogane was sitting in the overstuffed arm chair, just watching the kid. He could hear Sakura singing to herself in the shower. She was more special than he realized if she could sound so cheerful in the midst of all this terror and panic.

If anyone could save Syaoran from his own head, it was her.

Kurogane leaned back and sighed deeply.

Syaoran’s shoulders pulled back, tensed, and for a moment, he didn’t inhale.

“Cause we're all guilty of the same things
We think the thoughts whether or not we see them through
And I know that I have been forgiven
And I just hope you can forgive me too.”

It was true and disgusting how sick it was, but Kurogane had thought of it often. Though he refused to admit it openly, not even to Fai. He would seek no council, but he was always disgusted and haunted by the fact that he so much as thought about it.

He ground his teeth.

Syaoran was a beautiful twenty-eight year old.

His skin was alabaster beneath all those bruises and wounds, soft, just begging to be touched. His eyes were golden honey-colored and fringed with lashes so long and dark that they shadowed his face. His lips were full and pink, usually parted slightly as if he was inhaling his life. His hair was rich chocolate, spread out across the arms of the couch like silk. His bone structure was fine and delicate, high cheekbones and a strong chin.

Kurogane could admit the kid’s attractiveness openly, but not with the same carefree way he spoke of Chi’s.

Besides, Syaoran wasn’t really his kid.

The usual barriers weren’t already in place, the barriers of blood and family.

Not that those had stopped Fei-Wang Reed from violating Syaoran and Chi and maybe Xing-Huo.

Syaoran was a beautiful twenty-eight year old…

And Kurogane liked men.

In the darkest part of his mind, he fantasized about Syaoran.

About pinning his long slender arms above his head and suckling his throat until the blood was just beneath the thin layer of skin. About tasting the sweat on his toned chest, following ridges and curves of muscle and sinew. About kissing his lips. About plunging into his tight heat and sinking deep to the hilt. About hearing him moan and whimper when he was taken for the very first time.

Fai was handsome and wonderful, tight and loud, sexy and fulfilling, but Syaoran…

Kurogane groaned.

Syaoran was young and fresh, untouched. He would be a curious creature to touch and taste. A wondrous thing it would be to have Syaoran squirming beneath him in his satiny sweat-soaked sheets.

“Cause we're all guilty of the same things
We think the thoughts whether or not we see them through
And I know that I have been forgiven
And I just hope you can forgive me too.”

Kurogane only a little less guilty than Fei-Wang was.

Sometimes, just thinking about something was as forbidden as the deed itself.

Kurogane would never touch Syaoran. Though now when he was lying there so vulnerable on the sofa, the temptation was almost overwhelming.

He wondered what a little taste would be like, but then Sakura exited the bathroom and all those thoughts were banished back into the dark corner of his mind. He smiled at the young nurse and she smiled back, as unsuspecting of his fantasy as Fai.

“Hello, Officer Kurogane. Could you hear me singing all the way out here?” She asked and her cheeks were tinged a bit pink.

The flush was cute, but somehow just by saying his name, he felt as if she had seen right through him. So he denied ever hearing those words.

“Cause we're all guilty of the same things
We think the thoughts whether or not we see them through.”

…

Xing-Huo was home safe in her cool crisp bed.

She had this thing about clean sheets and washed hers almost daily.

Something about lying in her own nightmare-sweat night after night made her skin crawl. When she had her boyfriend over, she never allowed him into her bed. They both slept on her wide couch, spooned close together.

Tonight, after a particularly stressful afternoon, the sheets were especially blissful.

She sighed in pure ecstasy as she slid deep down below the blankets and buried her face into the clean pillow.

Everything smelled strongly of roses and her brow wrinkled in frustration.

Her boyfriend had snuck into her apartment and scattered the petals everywhere. He had lit candles and set the most beautiful romantic mood any man was capable of setting, but she had thrown him out as soon as she found him lying naked on her bed.

Not on her bed.

Never.

No bed.

She exhaled hard.

It was over between them and she was disgusted by how it was his simple desire for sex that had driven her to kick him to the curb.

She also had this thing about sex.

She had to be on top, in control, able to stop whenever she wanted.

Ah, the aftereffects of continuous rape, molestation, and sexual pleasure against her will at a young age.

And to think men paid good money for that film.

She had destroyed it all when she escaped.

Xing-Huo tossed and turned for several minutes, unable to get comfortable.

Her thoughts were on her brother and sister.

Scratch that.

Her innocent and good brother and sister.

Fei-Wang had many illegitimate children with women he had forced into his Fantasy Ring, but Syaoran and Chi were the only ones who were free and clean.

Xing-Huo had sold her body to a man inside the Fantasy Ring so he would grease the wheels and allow the three of them to escape. Once they were all free, Xing-Huo begged him to turn in Fei-Wang’s ring.

He was murdered before the chance ever came.

After that, Xing-Huo stopped trying to stop her father.

She didn’t know that her chance would soon come again.

Alright. That got a little wild.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 17: The Spider's Children & The Woman-Child Grows

Chapter Text

Okay. I’m surprised how well everyone is handling the KuroFai and one-sided KuroSyao. I thought it was disturbing to write, like Yukito and Touya’s scene. I’m persevering and I think I’m doing rather well.

Thank you, everyone.

It was moderately early when Chi knocked on the door. Her father had called her directly and asked her to check out a woman named Xing-Huo Reed. Chi rapped a little harder and unsnapped the snap on her holster. She hoped not to need her gun, but she wasn’t about to be taken. If Fei-Wang had a clever trap waiting just on the other side of this door, she would put a bullet in her own brain before she allowed herself to fall into his hands again.

The door eased open. The chain was thrown.

A single violet eye, rimmed with the red and dark circles of an insomniac or a person who rarely slept well, peeked out through the crack. The eye took in Chi’s uniform solemnly and a muffed voice asked, “Can I help you with something, Officer?”

Chi showed her badge like a passkey and nodded. “Is it possible we talk face to face? This is not something to be asked and answered through a door,” she asked kindly. There was no superiority in Chi’s voice, no bitterness. It was a simple request.

The eye bobbed as the person behind the door nodded. “Alright, just a second.”

Chi heard the chain sliding back and gripped her weapon so tightly that her knuckles turned whiter than her porcelain skin, but no threat appeared in the door. Nodding curtly, Chi entered and Xing-Huo gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa.

“What’s this about?”

Chi wasn’t sure what exactly she had been expecting when Kurogane told her to look for a woman named Xing-Huo Reed who worked at the hospital. She turned out to be only a few years older than Chi herself, maybe closer to Syaoran’s age, but a year or so older.

She was also very stunning. Her skin was healthy and supple, the color of honey, with a pink blush to her cheeks. Shadows barred her eyes and her lashes were long and thick, lying against her face like twin fans. Her lips were glossy, sexy. Her thick densely-curled black hair was scraped back from her face in a loose bun of wild curls. A few escaped to whisper around her high cheekbones.

She looked like a foreign bisque doll.

The opposite of Chi.

Dark to white.

Soil to moonlight.

Each beautiful in their own way, but so different.

Chi swallowed and wet her lips. “I don’t want to bother you any more than necessary, so I’ll get straight to the point.”

Xing-Huo sat down on the couch across from Chi. She pulled a few rose petals from the space between the cushions and laid them on the coffee table. Then, she sat back and brushed a single loose thread of hair behind her ear. Silver bats dangled from her lobes.

“Are you of any relation at all to a man named Fei-Wang Reed?”

Xing-Huo’s blood turned to ice in her veins. Her head snapped up and she launched to her feet. “Who are you?” She snarled.

Chi rose as well, hand resting on her gun. “A police officer. My name is Chi Chobits,” she said quickly, but firmly.

The tension melted from Xing-Huo’s shoulders and she sat down again. “You’re the night-shift doctor, Fai D. Fluorite’s daughter,” she pressed a hand to her chest and let her breath out in a rush. “You startled me. I didn’t expect you to look so similar to the way I remember you.”

Chi felt a bubble of confusion rise up in her chest. “What?”

Xing-Huo gestured for Chi to take a seat, but the woman-child elected to remain standing. “To answer your question, yes. Fei-Wang Reed is my father, just like you,” she said calmly. “You know that, yes?”

Chi nodded shakily.

“Good, but that doesn’t explain how you know about me.”

“Sakura Kinomoto worked Cassandra’s shift at the hospital and met you then,” Chi said quietly.

Xing-Huo nodded. “Alright, I remember. So what’s this about?”

Chi thought for a very long time and then said softly, “I don’t know…”

…

Chi returned to visit Hideki at the hospital. It was strange without Fai there, but the day shift was just turning over to night shift. The haunting fantasy world that the hospital created at night with its nurses in short skirts and pale pantyhose seemed almost surreal. The scrubs and sloppy ponytails were pouring out as if chased.

Chi had never seen the turn over before.

For a while she sat outside Hideki’s room, just watching.

Finally, the hospital grew darker, flickering like an old movie in the light of a failing fluorescent bulb, and the nurses were too beautiful.

Then, she slipped into Hideki’s room.

He was propped up against his pillows, reading a Playboy magazine. He didn’t put it down when she entered.

His face glowed with a smile. “Chi,” was all he said.

“A little side to go with dinner?” She asked and eyes his half-touched tray.

A flush crept up his neck.

“You know how I am,” he murmured and closed the magazine. The gorgeous cover girl gleamed in the harsh light, glossy and airbrushed and fake.

Chi put the tray very purposefully on top of it.

“Chi, is something wrong?”

She took off her coat, hat, and gloves and laid them on the back of her chair.

“Life is really short, Hideki,” she said finally after she had gazed at him for a very long time. He never looked away. “Just a second to the world. Twenty years from now… no one will know, no one will remember, the things that happened to me. We don’t have time to wait for it all to go away.”

“Shh, Chi, it’s alright.” He reached up and cupped her face, twisting a few pale strands of hair around his fingers. “We have all the time in the world. We can wait. Shh, Chi, baby, it’s okay.”

She took his hand, lowered it, kissed the back, and then cautiously laid it over her breast through her uniform.

He didn’t pull away, didn’t squeeze, just let her hold his palm over her breast. The warmth of his palm seeped through her clothes and she whimpered.

“Chi, what is it?”

“Life is really short, Hideki,” she said. “You’ve been so patient. I don’t want to…”

“We have all the time in the world, baby,” Hideki said and cupped her face with his free hand. “It’s alright.”

Chi nuzzled against his palm. His skin was callused and warm, tender. His thumb stroked just below her eye.

“What if I want to…?”

His heart began to throb in his chest. “Whatever you want, baby,” he whispered.

Chi let his hand fall, went to the door, and shoved the straight backed chair beneath the knob. Crossing back to the bed, she sat down wearily and toed off her heavy boots. Then, she removed her belt, so heavy with her radio and weapons and keys, and laid it down on the chair with her winter garments. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her dark shirt.

Hideki glimpsed pale porcelain skin beneath the dark fabric and almost pinched himself to see if he was dreaming.

“Can I stop… if I get scared…?”

“Anything you want, baby…”

Chi let the shirt fall from her shoulders. Her bra was plain and white, a Wall-to-Wall Mart special on sale cheap. She reached behind her back and unfastened the clasp. Then, she allowed that to slide down as well. Her breasts were full and round with rosy nipples peaked with cold.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Hideki reached for her waist and drew her close to him. Chi perched nervously on the edge of the bed, shy and timid. He wouldn’t deny that he wanted her so badly he could taste it. He didn’t even fear her two daddies coming after him.

He loved her so much.

He cupped her breast gently, letting it fill his hand, and brushed his thumb over her nipple. She arched her back, pressing deeper into his hand, and moaned quietly. He laid his ear against her chest. Her heartbeat was strong and sure so he gently took her into his mouth.

Her skin was salty and sweet. The texture made his head swim.

Chi couldn’t deny her fear. She was afraid, deep deep down… of being discovered, of being hurt, of not being able to stop, but life was so very short. She wanted to have a time in her memory where sex was good and sweet and she did it with someone she loved.

She drew Hideki’s face away from her breast and kissed him passionately.

He moaned into her mouth. She felt his fingers at the waistband on her pants, slowly lowering the zipper.

“Is this alright? Are you okay?”

Her voice wouldn’t come out so she simply nodded.

Hideki cupped her through her panties, stroking her sensitive pearl.

It felt good, so strange, but amazing. She felt as if she was floating.

Then, cautiously, Hideki pushed her panties to the side and slid one finger into her moist slit. The moan that crawled up Chi’s throat was purely an animal thing. She kissed him fiercely, hard, and he began to pump in and out of her. She could hear noises coming from beneath her. The sucking sloppy sound of his fingers inside her.

She felt sick and pulled away.

“Chi?”

“I’m alright.”

She kissed him very gently, tasting his lips and his love.

He wouldn’t hurt her. Of that, she was sure.

Chi let her pants and panties slid down to the floor and stepped out of them. Slowly, she peeled the blankets down from Hideki’s body. He was wearing only the hospital issued shift and it had already risen into a tent.

She stroked him, but couldn’t bring herself to find the courage to draw him into her mouth. He was watching her carefully and she shook her head. He nodded in understanding and kissed her tenderly.

“It’s alright,” he whispered against her throat.

Timid, Chi swung her leg over his waist and scooted forward on her knees until she was almost directly over him. She gripped his shoulders and he soothed her.

“Go slowly. You’re in control,” he whispered.

Chi nodded and bit down on her lip. She touched herself, measuring the moisture between her folds, and then kissed Hideki again. He could feel the heat coming off her body, especially between her legs. Something slick and hot dripped on his exposed co*ck. Chi carefully spread her lips, looking down between them, and positioned herself. Then, she caught his eyes and held them. His head pressed at her opening, tight and hot and wet.

“It’s okay…”

Chi licked her lips. The feel of Hideki’s living velvet pushing up against her like the head of a growing fern was a terrifying feeling. Memories poured back in a rush: being restrained and violently delved into, being stuffed with toys, having a man’s head between her legs when she was only five when even slender fingers felt as if they were tearing her apart, kinky spankings and having animals licking deep inside her secret place. She had to take a deep breath and calm her racing pulse.

Then, she slid down on him and stayed there. Her muscles were adjusting slowly, but the pain was not extreme. The pleasure she felt welling up in her abdomen was enough to make her head spin. A moan escaped her mouth. She lifted off him, muscles gripping at his shaft, and plunged back down.

Hideki groaned and gripped her hips to guide her in a steady rhythm.

Her breasts were jiggling and bouncing as she rode him. She rolled her hips subconsciously, trying to expand her own pleasure and his. He almost came inside her just then, but held himself back. Chi was moaning, her blue eyes closed and her face tilted upwards. Her lips parted, pink and sexy.

The spring in her belly was coiling tighter and tighter. She felt like she was going to explode and it felt so good.

Hideki’s warm hands wandered up her ribcage and cupped her breasts gently. He massaged them, touching her nipples. She bent her head and kissed him so that he was forced back against the pillows. His tongue found its way into her mouth, thrusting with the same rhythm she was pushing him deeply inside her.

In and out.

Down and up.

She moaned.

Then, the coil burst.

Thick cream filled her insides: Hideki’s. He collapsed back against the pillows, panting.

Chi fell into him, breathing hard into the hollow of his throat.

“Are you alright?” He whispered and ran his hands up and down her back.

She nodded. “Better,” she whispered.

He was still inside her when she dozed off, softening and sticky.

Life is very short played over and over in his head.

…

Kurogane’s radio crackled, startling both Sakura and Syaoran. “This is Kurogane,” he said quickly to dispatch.

“Kurogane, Chi has just radioed in. She has information about the woman.”

“I’m secure. Give it to me.”

“Xing-Huo Reed is Fei-Wang Reed’s illegitimate child, just like Chi Chobits and Syaoran Li.”

Syaoran was sitting up on the couch, staring blankly at the television screen, but his shoulders went ramrod straight at the mention of Fei-Wang’s name. Sakura clasped his hand and rubbed it between hers in an effort to soothe him.

Kurogane didn’t really know what to say.

He hadn’t expected this Xing-Huo to have anything to do with Fei-Wang. He had assumed their names were just a strange and unfortunate coincidence. To discover that she was his child, just like Syaoran and Chi, Kurogane hungrily wondered how beautiful she was…

“What should we do?” Dispatch continued.

Kurogane had been gazing at Syaoran, but he now snapped back to attention. “Get a paternity test going, just to make sure, and keep it quiet. The best kept police secret we’ve ever had. If she really is his, then we don’t want him going after her,” he ordered.

“Alright. 10-4.”

The radio went silent again.

“Xing-Huo is…?” Sakura asked.

Kurogane nodded. “This thing is all over the city,” he said and to himself, I don’t think there’s any stopping it.

Syaoran began to shiver as if he had heard Kurogane’s dark thoughts and Sakura soothed him.

The tangled web they all lived it was growing more and more knotted. The strands were hopelessly twisted, intertwined, and broken. The horrid part was that Fei-Wang was the spider slowly descending on them, ready to eat them alive. And surely he had worse things planned for the beautiful children…

The family had been tortured and abused for so long that Kurogane wasn’t sure they were even capable of ever recovering.

If Xing-Huo was ever able to allow someone into her bed…

If Kurogane could ever stop wanting Syaoran…

If Syaoran could get his voice back…

If Sakura ever stopped singing…

If Chi could regain her trust…

If Fai ever saw Yui again…

Maybe their chances of escaping the web would become better.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 18: Assault: What the Kid Did

Chapter Text

A word to the wise, if you’re wearing a hat, hang on to it!

It was a little after nine-thirty. Sakura was setting up the air mattress on the floor For Kurogane and had finished making the couch up with sheets for Syaoran. The young man was sitting up, watching her with those amber eyes of his. He appeared fascinated just by the color of the sheets she had put on the sofa: leopard print. Kurogane was in the shower, his tazer and pepper spray were on the kitchen table on the off chance that something happened.

“Syaoran, still no bed?” Sakura asked.

He shook his head.

“I need to check those wounds on your throat, tonight.”

He brought a hand to his neck and touched the thick wrapping of white gauze. His eyes were wide and nervous, flitting around the room as if contemplating escape routes.

“Hey,” Sakura said gently and came to sit beside him on the couch. “I’m not going to hurt you, remember?” She offered him her palm, but he wrote nothing onto her skin. He just gazed at her. She had the strangest feeling that he could see right into her and wondered if what he saw reassured him. It must have because he angled his head so she could peel back the gauze.

The wound was ugly and thick with old blood, but healing neatly. He would have thick pink scars on his throat for the rest of his life, but they would be faint against the pale skin of his throat.

“Syaoran, it’s alright,” she said.

Suddenly, his head snapped toward the door.

“Syaoran?”

Something banged and the door jumped violently and shook in its frame. The knob jiggled and shuddered.

Then, all was still.

Sakura hurried to get the tazer off the table and didn’t feel any better even with it in her hand. She took Syaoran’s hand and pulled him off the couch. He was wide eyed and trembling and his skin was icy to the touch.

“It’s alright,” she whispered.

The front door bounced and shuddered again. Then, before Sakura had a chance to knock on the bathroom door and alert Kurogane, the door exploded inward. It crashed into the couch and sent the entire piece of furniture skidding backwards across the floor.

Yukito and another man Sakura didn’t recognize loomed up in the doorway. The second man had dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail and he wore small sensitive glasses in front of his cruel shining eyes. His mouth twisted into a gruesome smile when he saw Syaoran.

“Kurogane!” Sakura screamed.

The water shut off, but the two men had already spurred into motion. By the time Sakura managed to aim the tazer, they would already be on them.

She screamed for Kurogane again and heard the water shut off.

Yukito lunged for Syaoran, fisting his white hand in the chocolate locks and yanking hard. Syaoran crumpled to his knees, wide eyed and terrified. His mouth was gasping, but unable to make a single sound. He gripped Yukito’s wrist, but couldn’t find the strength to do anything else.

The second man grabbed Sakura and she fired the tazer blindly at his belly. One of the prongs took and the other clattered uselessly, spitting, on the floor. The man swore, but was overall unfazed by the tazer. He picked up the useless prong by its chord and shoved it into Sakura’s shoulder. The volts turned her to jelly and she was forced to drop the weapon.

Instantly, the flow of electricity stopped.

It would have to be reloaded to be used again.

Kurogane hurled open the bathroom door, but both men quickly hauled Sakura and Syaoran up in front of them as shields and hostages.

Kurogane swore.

Tears were streaming down Sakura’s cheeks.

The sight of her tears struck a chord deep down inside Syaoran’s chest. His own terror abated.

Fei-Wang would destroy this girl if he ever got his hands on her and Syaoran couldn’t allow that to happen.

Closing his eyes against the pain in his head and unused limbs, he lashed out. His legs arched gracefully, pure muscle memory, and knocked Yukito’s feet out from underneath him. There was a nasty cracking noise where Yukito landed on his slender wrist and it bent at an unnatural angle, but he didn’t make a sound.

Before anyone had a chance to react, Syaoran was after the man holding Sakura. He gripped her by her shoulders and heaved her out of his grasp. She sailed forward and crashed into the air mattress. Syaoran brought his knee up into the second man’s gut, knocking the wind out of him.

Then, exhausted, he stumbled backwards and collapsed in a heap of long limbs.

Yukito was getting up, but Syaoran could only watch him with those haunted wide amber eyes.

Blood poured from his neck, running from the wounds the collar had made. The pain was excruciating. He could only watch Yukito approach.

Kurogane fired off two shots.

The first into Yukito’s knee, dropping him like a rock.

The second exploded into the second man’s shoulder. He dropped screaming, howling, in anguish.

Yukito didn’t make a sound. He was staring at Sakura. Surely, he knew who she was.

…

Sakura wasn’t entirely sure what happened after that. The two men were taken to the hospital in police custody and Kurogane called several people in the phone book looking for someone to install a new door. He also chased off the nosy tenets in the other apartments.

All Sakura knew was that she and Syaoran were bottled up in her bedroom.

Syaoran was slumped down next to the door, chest heaving and eyes closed. He was a white as a ghost and trembling. It was all Sakura could do to change the bandages at his throat before he appeared to close himself off completely from her.

She slid down the wall next to him.

“Syaoran.”

He didn’t look at her, but his shoulders drew back slightly.

“Thank you for saving us.”

He raised his head and looked at her.

She held out her hand and he gently took it.

He was warm and his skin was soft.

Didn’t want to go back.

“I know. I didn’t either.”

Tired.

He glanced at her bed and then back at her face. His eyes shone, glittered, the amber was more honey-colored and glowed in the dark.

“Do you want to sleep there?” Sakura whispered.

He shook his head and wrote in her palm with his fingertip.

No bed.

…

Kurogane couldn’t believe it had happened.

The ten minutes he had been in the shower and Fei-Wang sent to men after the kid.

Actually, it was because of the kid that Kurogane had been able to take those men down. Whatever Syaoran had done had saved him and the nurse.

Kurogane still couldn’t believe it.

He could only thank God and Sakura that the kid was coming around.

Then, his dark mind turned to the lithe muscles beneath that pale honey-colored skin, to the long arch of leg as it lashed out. He wondered what it would be like to fight the kid, to pin him against a wall with physical force, or to fight with weapons and slowly, accidentally, cut off his clothes so he could see more of that beautiful flesh.

After he found someone to repair the door within the hour, Kurogane stood guard. He planned on a very quick, very cold shower to be the cherry on top of this eventful night.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 19: Several People, Status: Moving

Chapter Text

Everyone keeps asking me how long this story is going to be. I was thinking maybe thirty chapters, but… my stories often get away from me. It could be more, but most likely not any less than that. Alright?

Fei-Wang was disgusted.

Yukito and Kyle had failed. He had just seen it on the eleven o’clock news.

They had been shot and taken away to the hospital in police custody.

He knew Yukito wouldn’t talk. He was infuriated by the loss of his lover, Touya, and would have killed Syaoran and the girl without hesitation had he not known Fei-Wang would have made them suffer a far greater penalty than simply death.

But Kyle, on the other hand, was a loaded gun in a hand with an itchy trigger finger. If he thought he was going down, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Fei-Wang’s Fantasy Ring down with him. The ring was Fei-Wang’s baby. He had raised and nurtured it into a blossoming young woman.

His p*rnography: his beautiful women and children, his captivating men. His sad*sts and masoch*sts, his lesbians and gays. The straights. All of his beautiful sexual creatures, his animals. His, all of them were his.

It was bad enough that year ago, when Syaoran escaped, he had lost all those whor*s and beauties in his gilded cage, but they could be replaced. The only ones he loathed losing were Chi, Xing-Huo, and Syaoran. He had always known where Syaoran and Chi were. Woefully out of his reach in the arms of the police chief, Kurogane, and his lover Fai D. Fluorite. The only ace in the hole he had was Yui, Fai’s twin brother, but as much as Fai loved his twin, he knew there wasn’t much he could do to help him.

When it didn’t inflict too much harm on his family, Fai played the game. Other times, he assumed Yui would be safe simply because Fei-Wang liked having that hold over him.
More often than not, Fai was correct in that assumption.

Yui was the ace in the hole.

To really get Fai, Fei-Wang had to leave his Fantasy Ring and go out into the world.

Chi was a police officer. She carried a gun and always traveled with her partner, Hideki. She was too risky to go after.

Syaoran, on the other hand, was a lone wolf. After a few failed attempts, that Syaoran kept to himself to prevent anyone from worrying, Fei-Wang managed to capture the young man and tear him apart. Then, he deposited the wrapped body on Fai and Kurogane’s doorstep.

The game was still in play and would not be avoided, not anymore.

Not when Fei-Wang had so much leverage.

Now, there were new cards on the table.

They were playing with a loaded deck.

…

Fai D. Fluorite was losing his mind.

At night, he could focus on his work: the hospital, the patients, his nurses. It was strange and lonely without Sakura, but they were getting along fine without her. He had known that, but he missed her gentle hand. No one else could calm children or stick junkies in the ass with sedatives faster than Sakura.

He smiled at the memory.

During the day, though, he was hard pressed to keep his thoughts as bay.

Today was dawning cloudy and overcast. Grey almost artificial sunlight streamed through the blinds. Everything looked worn-out and the faint dusting of night frost made everything look like ghosts. Maybe today the dead would rise from their grave. Global warming, and all, who knew what the world had up its sleeve anymore.

Maybe God would punish them all…

Fai was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. He liked it white with a lot of sugar so he almost couldn’t taste the bitterness anymore. Kurogane often remarked that he should just drink sweet milk warmed up in the microwave to take the chill off.

He had just emptied his cup when the phone rang.

Cheerful, Fai put the receiver against his ear. “Hello?”

“Fai, good morning. It’s been far too long since we last talked. Do you have a minute?”

Fai’s blood turned to ice in his veins and he collapsed down into his chair. He swallowed, unable to work up any moisture to wet his dry throat with. “Fei-Wang Reed?” He couldn’t draw in a deep enough breath and began to feel lightheaded. “What do you want?”

“Is that any way to speak to your master?”

“You are no master of mine,” Fai snarled.

He could hear Fei-Wang laughing.

“Yes, of course not, but I do hold all the cards in the palm of my hand. If I should just slip, everything you love will come tumbling down.” The threat was strong and cold, like a drink, like poison.

Fai’s fingers tightened around the phone. “You see, Fei-Wang, that’s the thing about a house of cards, I built mine in the expectation that no matter what happens I will be able to build it again,” he snarled and slammed the phone back into its cradle.

It rang again, but he just let it ring.

…

Standing in the chilly utility room, Kurogane was a little worried that Fai didn’t answer the phone, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had taken a big enough risk leaving the kid and the nurse alone in the apartment, but he had felt it crucial to tell Fai that everything was alright.

Or as alright as anything ever could be under the circ*mstances.

But, Fai didn’t answer.

A little ball of worry swelled up under his ribs as he hung up the phone. He was tempted to call again, but Sakura poked her head out of the apartment door way and called to him. He had left the door propped open so he could hear her if she called or see anyone walking down the hallway.

“Kurogane, it’s nothing important, but the same woman has walked up and down the block several times now,” she told him in a hushed voice. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but…”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you.” Then, the door closed quietly.

Kurogane sighed.

He had a feeling something very bad was going to happen and very soon.

…

Sakura returned to the couch, sitting next to, but not close to Syaoran. The young man was staring at the window, watching just the bobbing head of the woman pacing the block. His shoulders were pulled back and if he was a dog, his hackles would be raised. He was gripping Kurogane’s telescoping baton hard in his lap, twisting his fingers around and around it.

“Hey, Syaoran, it’s alright. Kurogane’s going to come back inside now,” Sakura said and gently touched his arm.

He didn’t even look at her.

“Syaoran? Hey, how about some breakfast? It’s not good for you to be spending so much time on edge,” she said.

His head swiveled around and he picked up the pad of yellow paper and the pen she had laid on the table for him.

No.

He handed it to her and then went back to staring out the window, craning his neck so he could see without revealing himself at the window.

“Hey.”

He shook his head, turned back to her, and took the pad again.

Protecting you. Got me, not going to get you.

Sakura had to swallow the lump that blocked her throat. She cautiously wrapped her arms around Syaoran’s shoulders. He tensed, but didn’t pull away, and after a moment turned his head to catch her eyes. They were sparkling beautifully, jade green, like summer grass and gems. Her body was warm and soft where it pressed against the hard ridges of muscle and starvation in his.

He had known since he opened his eyes and saw her that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, not to this beautiful girl who had tried so hard to help him.

He was beyond help, but she could be saved.

She would be.

Syaoran rested his cheek against the crown of her head. Her satin-soft hair tickled his cheek and he inhaled the scent of her.

Protecting you. Got me, not going to get you.

Outside, the woman finally crossed the street.

…

Xing-Huo had stayed at her apartment last night, safely behind her locked door in her nice clean bed, but now she decided it was time to break out of her safe cocoon. There was only so much she could do from her apartment and from what Chi had told her, a crisis was unfolding throughout the city.

She dressed in fresh jeans and a t-shirt after she showered. Her hair was wet and cold, but straight and long with the heaviness of water, so she scraped it back into a ponytail and jammed it under her hat. Then, she pulled on her gloves and heavy winter steel-toed boots before leaving her apartment and locking it behind her.

It was going to be along morning, just one of those days.

Outside, it was beginning to snow and a faint breeze sent the flakes swirling through the air. Her breath created a cloud in front of her face. There weren’t many pedestrians out on the street and only a few cars, no taxis as far as the eye could see, so Xing-Huo caught a bus at the corner.

Then, she went to the address Chi had given her.

The apartment complex was grey-green and sickly looking, like something old and dead. Surely this wasn’t the place where they were hiding her brother, her Syaoran. Fei-Wang’s Yukito and Kyle had attacked here last night. Syaoran could already be back in their hands.

She walked right passed.

But, if Syaoran was in there, under secret police protection, then they needed to know what she could do to help them.

She turned around.

But, if Chi had gone back to Fei-Wang’s side, Xing-Huo could be delivering herself in a neat little package right to him.

She walked right passed.

But, she highly doubted that woman-child pale porcelain doll was capable of anything so cruel.

She turned around.

Xing-Huo gathered her head and her courage and crossed the street.

…

Chi woke up slumped naked across Hideki’s chest.

He was still asleep and soft inside her. Gently, carefully, she slid off of him, wrapped her shirt around her nudity, and unblocked the door. Hopefully, no one had come to check on Hideki during the night and had been unable to get in. Then, with her clothes a mess in her arms, she went to the bathroom and started the shower.

Her body was flushed pink and warm. Her inner thighs were sticky and that scared her, but she couldn’t say she regretted having sex with Hideki.

He had been gentle.

She had been in control.

She scrubbed her fingers through her long blond hair, letting it flow down her back in soft golden waves. The hospital issued soap and shampoo was thick and smelled heavily of nothing, plain and cheap, but she washed as thoroughly as she could.

Then, she dried off and dressed in her uniform again. She fastened her heavy belt around her hips, feeling it dip into her flesh as it always did and was comforted by that. She bent over and gently kissed Hideki’s lips.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Then, she left the hospital room and walked right into waiting arms.

Alright. I’m trying to kick it into high gear.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 20: Shots Fired: Accidental & Unable

Chapter Text

Alright, look! I’m managing to not play favorites when I have two stories going at the same time.

Xing-Huo pushed through the plate glass doors that opened into the lobby of Sakura’s apartment building and hurried to the front desk before she lost her nerve and became a shady character.

“Hello,” she said and smiled.

The man behind the desk looked her over critically, but appeared to decide she wasn’t a threat because he put his elbows on the counter and leaned on them. He had a charming smile on full display.

“I’m here to see my friend, Sakura Kinomoto, 7B,” she explained and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, but the fear was blossoming under her ribs, bottled up between scapulae and sternum. She swallowed and tried to keep her smile in place.

The receptionist, on the other hand, made no move to disguise his sudden displeasure. “May I say who is calling for her?”

She wet her lips. This was where she became unsure of what to do. She didn’t want to alert any set-up lurking upstairs as to whom she was, but if only Sakura was upstairs then she may not see someone she didn’t know under the circ*mstances that had happened the night before. According to the news anchor, the attack had been brutal. “Xing-Huo,” she said finally.

The receptionist nodded, but still looked suspicious. He called one to someone working in the back room, surely security watching the screens and half-asleep, to run upstairs to Sakura’s room and let her know she had a guest.

There was a muffled grunt in reply.

“This’ll only take a second,” the receptionist told Xing-Huo.

The young woman nodded, but made no move to take a seat. She continued to stand in front of the desk, looking around at everything in the lobby.

…

The pacing woman had crossed the street only a few moments ago.

Sakura, Syaoran, and Kurogane were bottled up behind the couch. Syaoran was craning his neck to peek out the window in case someone else shady began to walk up and down the block, but he had seen no one. Kurogane had his gun resting on the back of the couch, ready for the brand-new door to explode inward. For the prince they had paid, he hoped it would hold for at least a minute.

Much to their surprise, there was a knock at the door.

Sakura stared at Kurogane with a question in her jade-green eyes. He had the same question written on his face.

What kind of attacker knocks?

Sakura rose shakily and had to pry Syaoran’s fingers off her wrist.

The knock sounded again.

She threw back the deadbolt, but left the chain and eased open the door.

Kurogane continued to take careful aim and prayed if it came down to it, he wouldn’t have to shoot through her.

But Sakura cracked open the door and quickly waved the weapon down. “Hi, Steve, what is it?”

“You’ve got someone downstairs who want to see you. Figured that in light of what happened last night we should check with you first before sending anyone up.” The voice sounded a wee bit sheepish.

Sakura felt her blood chill. “W-who?” She asked.

“Xing-Huo.”

Sakura couldn’t hide the shock in her face. She glanced back to see Kurogane nodding vigorously and Syaoran’s wide amber eyes staring right through her as if he could already see the young woman. She nodded. “Yes, please, send her up.”

“Alright, ma’am.”

The footsteps and voice receded like something from a dream.

…

Xing-Huo punched the button for floor seven and rode the elevator nervously passed each lower floor. Finally, it stopped and the door peeled open with a hiss. She stepped out. According to the receptionist, 7B now had no numbers on its door, but it was right between 7A and 7C so she should have no trouble finding it.

She hesitated in front of the door and then rapped lightly.

The door was pulled open almost instantly. There was a big man on the other side.

Xing-Huo turned on her heel and ran.

A goon of her father’s, but she would not be caught ever again!

…

Kurogane pulled open the door and barely laid eyes on Xing-Huo before she turned tail and bolted down the hallway. Sakura vaulted around the sofa and squeezed past Kurogane into the hallway.

“Xing-Huo, wait!” She shouted.

The woman didn’t even hesitate. She was near the elevator, skidding into it so hard that her shoulder connected with the opposing wall.

Syaoran slipped past both Kurogane and Sakura and was down the hallway before either of them could even think to stop him. He raced after her, closing the space even faster than she had.

“Syaoran!”

Sakura dashed after him.

“Wait!”

…

Xing-Huo couldn’t accurately describe the rollercoaster her feelings were on when Syaoran barreled into her and wrapped both arms securely around her slender frame. He pulled her against him, tight and warm. His body was hard with muscle and bone and he smelled lightly of lavender, soil, and blood. A little croak issued from his throat and he hugged her even closer.

Sakura skidded into the elevator as well, touching Syaoran’s back and gripping a hold of Xing-Huo’s hand where it hung limply at her side.

“Please, wait,” Sakura panted out. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

Xing-Huo brought her free arm up around Syaoran’s back and held him close against her. “You’re Sakura, right?”

Sakura nodded, narrow chest heaving.

“Thank you,” Xing-Huo whispered and a single tear made a slow trail down her cheek, “for helping him.”

To that, Sakura didn’t know what to say.

…

Waiting arms snatched Chi up. Arms that smelled of lubricant and unwashed skin, the stink of sex and sweat. She immediately knew that Fei-Wang Reed had captured her again. Ice cold fear blossomed in her belly and she fumbled for her gun. Maybe, if she could squeeze off a few shots, someone would hear her and come to help her or maybe she could would her assailant. A big hand twisted her wrist cruelly and the gun became something second only to the pain.

She had no hope of escaping this. She could only hope that Fai and Kurogane, her wonderful loving parents, would save her.

The gun was pulled from her holster and stabbed into her back. “Do exactly as I say or I’ll full your chest with lead,” a voice snarled into her ear.

She would sooner die than returned so she attacked him again, lashing backwards with her elbow. There was a satisfying crack and stream of curses when he elbow met nose and what felt like glasses. But her triumph was short-lived because something came down on the top of her head and everything went black.

She could only hope Fai and Kurogane would save her and that was the last thought she had.

Life is short.

…

Kurogane was sitting in the overstuffed armchair while Xing-Huo and Sakura talked with Syaoran sandwiched in between them when his radio crackled.

“Officer Kurogane, we have a patch for you from Fai Fluorite,” dispatch crackled next to his ear.

Gesturing for the kids to be quiet, Kurogane said, “Alright, put him through.”

“Kurogane?” Fai sounded as if he had been crying.

“Fai, what is it?”

“It’s Chi. She’s been taken…”

The radio fell from Kurogane’s hands.

Lots of little snippets.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 21: Taken, Released, & Given Up

Chapter Text

Sorry, I did two chapters for [redacted] while I was waiting to be inspired, but I’m ready to work now!

“It’s Chi. She’s been taken…”

Kurogane didn’t think there were worse words that could have been said to him. The radio slipped from his fingers and dropped into his lap.

Sakura and Xing-Huo looked over at him. Syaoran’s eyes remained fixed straight ahead, but crystal tears were welling up in his rich honey-colored eyes. Sakura touched his shoulder and she bit down hard on her lower lip. Xing-Huo’s hands clenched into fists in her lap.

Xing-Huo’s voice issued in little more than a croak when she finally managed to speak. “Did he say Chi was taken?” She whispered.

Kurogane could only nod. His hands shook as he raised the radio to his mouth. “Fai, talk to me,” he said hoarsely.

Fai’s voice was thick with tears and anguish. “She spent the night with Hideki at the hospital and when she went to leave in the morning, someone was waiting for her. Fei-Wang Reed took her. God, Kurogane, he’s taken her…” There was a pause and Fai hiccupped. “There’s more. Xing-Huo is missing.”

“Xing-Huo? She’s here with us,” Kurogane said. “She arrived here just this morning.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Fai choked out. “I thought he got her, too.”

“You knew they were related?”

“Yes.”

Xing-Huo took up and took the radio from Kurogane. The big man’s strength was failing him. He was pale and shaking. Chi’s kidnapping had shaken something loose inside of him. It was only Xing-Huo’s rage that kept her from falling apart.

“Dr. Fai, it’s Xing-Huo. Please, tell me what happened,” she said. She sat down next to Syaoran and Sakura reached around him to touch her shoulder.

Sakura offered a strong but strained bitter smile. Her jade-green eyes were kind and gentle.

“No one knew where you were. Your apartment has been ransacked and a severed penis was lying in your bed–”

“Fei-Wang’s signature mark,” Kurogane supplied uselessly.

“After what happened to Chi, we all naturally assumed the worst,” Fai said quietly. “You do not know how happy I am to hear that you are unharmed.”

Xing-Huo’s blood ran cold. For all these years, she had thought her father did not know where to find her, but it seems that he did. He had extended her some small amount of mercy, but he surely had been planning to rend it away. The realization made her sick to her stomach.

Xing-Huo handed Sakura the radio and rushed to the bathroom.

Sakura felt the first stirrings of real panic fluttering in her chest.

Kurogane was shaken, stone-still, like a statue. His crimson eyes were glazed and distant and there was a sheen of sweat on his broad worried brow. He didn’t appear to be breathing regularly, just a few deep gasping breaths every so often.

The sounds of Xing-Huo retching filled the small apartment. A moment ago, the young woman had gone ashen and her eyes darkened like the descending of night. She had bitten down on her lower lip hard enough to drawn bright blood.

They had been rattled to the core and so easily.

Sakura began to wonder if they would all make it out of this relatively unharmed.

Syaoran touched her thigh, softly, timidly. He offered his pad of paper to her and she had not even seen him reach for it.

Where is Chi?

“Dr. Fai, do you know where Chi was taken?” Sakura asked. Her voice was stronger than she had expected. It almost didn’t seem like hers. “Dr. Fai?”

Fai’s voice sounded a little stronger, too. “Yes, but I wonder if it is something I should be telling you. This is a police matter.”

That man will come after us, Syaoran scrawled neatly.

But something wasn’t right…

“Fai, why did Fei-Wang tell you where he was taking Chi?” Sakura asked.

Syaoran’s shoulders tensed and he looked at her eagerly.

The radio crackled as Fai hesitated. “Because… he wants to make a trade…”

Syaoran started writing.

“What trade?” Sakura whispered. Dread was heavy in her stomach.

“You for Chi. He said that is the only way he will let her go. Otherwise, we will find her body torn apart on the steps of the hospital, in the same way we were given Syaoran. Except, Chi will be dead…” Fai began to sob again, hoarse choking hacking cries.

Syaoran shoved the paper into Sakura’s lap.

Protect you. Got me, not going to get you, he had scrawled sloppily, half on and off the lines.

Sakura felt a knot in her throat. “How long to we have to make a decision?”

Kurogane’s glazed out-of-focus eyes burned into her shoulders.

Fai whispered, “Until midnight in the subway station.”

Sakura swallowed. She pressed and held, ready to sign her own death warrant when Syaoran shoved the pad of paper into her lap. He wouldn’t meet her eyes even after she had read it and she wanted to desperately to see his face.

Protect you.

He had written firmly, little blotches and spots of ink all over.

Give him me.

...

Kyle had been staring a hole in the cell wall, wondering how long he was to rot here before his retribution came. Sighing heavily, he ran his fingers through his long dark hair.
There was commotion in the hallway outside his cell and he heard the distinct ‘pop’ of a silencer equipped pistol. There was the sound of a body hitting the floor and the thin warm metallic odor of fresh blood. Keys jangled and there was some muted swearing. Then, finally, the door swung open.

It wasn’t the big man himself. Not Fei-Wang Reed, but a tall slender blonde. For a moment, Kyle mistook him as a woman until he spoke and the voice was deep and cold. “Hurry up. I still have to spring Yukito,” the blonde said and pulled a few strands of long blonde hair over his narrow effeminate shoulders. “I don’t have time to wait around while you gape at me.”

Kyle scrambled to his feet and into the hallway.

The blonde dragged the dead policeman into the empty cell, closed, and locked it. Then, he paced swiftly down the hallway and stopped at a second cell. Again, finding the correct key took some time, but the door swung noiselessly open on only the fourth try.

Yukito was sitting patiently on the bed. His wrist was in a bright blue cast and his eyes were red-rimmed. He didn’t look like he had slept since they had been taken in, but he stood up quickly and his gait was strong. “I thought you’d never get here,” he said icily, “Yui.”

Dun, dun, dun!

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 22: Punishment & Sacrifice: Pain

Chapter Text

I love you all.

She had managed to rouse Kurogane from his stupor by waving thyme, the nastiest smelling spice in her pantry, under his nose. His eyes were still watering.

She had given Xing-Huo some ginger ale and crackers to settle her stomach. The young woman was still a little pale and shaky. She had curled up on the sofa, staring idly at nothing. Finally, she had dropped off to sleep and Kurogane had carried her from the sofa to the air mattress and laid her down on the bed. She groaned in her sleep.

After that, Kurogane, Sakura, Syaoran, and Fai via radio had sat down and made a plan, but, sadly, the entire thing depended on whether or not Fei-Wang planned to kill them on sight. Syaoran and Fai insisted he wouldn’t. The man’s pride was hurt. He wanted to regain some of that conceited satisfaction he had lost when Syaoran, Chi, and Xing-Huo escaped him all those years ago. Actually, it depended on a lot of things.

Neither Fai nor Kurogane had mentioned Yui and no one else knew about him.

…

Kurogane waited in the hallway outside the apartment for Fai. The ugly gold and red carpet beneath his feet was worn and dirty. He would be happy when this was all over and he could return to Fai’s neat and bright house. He couldn’t wait to take his lover into his arms freely, freed from his dirty fantasies of the beautiful kid and the trouble of the p*rn ring.

Soon would never be soon enough.

Never would never be far enough away.

The memories would always be a plague, a sore, on everyone’s lives.

The elevator peeled open and Fai stepped out. He had a small bag at his side and he looked haggard. His blonde hair hung lank and his blue eyes were barred.

“Hello, Kurogane,” he murmured.

Kurogane wouldn’t offer empty assurances. Chi might not be alright.

He just took Fai into his arms and held him tightly. For a moment, the doctor resisted and then melted into Kurogane. He didn’t cry, but the despair came off him in waves. He was losing more of his family. First Yui, then Syaoran for a time, and now Chi. IF something went bad, he would lose Syaoran again or if something went worse, he would lose Sakura.

“Fai, we’ll do all that we can,” Kurogane whispered.

The doctor nodded. “That’s all that can be done,” he murmured.

Fai kissed Kurogane hungrily, suckling his lips like slices of meat, but Kurogane denied himself the arousal and sex he wanted to escape the pain.

They stayed out in the hallway for a while, touching and kissing gently. Kurogane’s big warm hands fit down the back of Fai’s pants. He stroked Fai’s shaft to fullness and wet his fingers with the precum. Then, he fit one finger into Fai’s asshole. The doctor hissed and leaned harder into the kiss. He fit in a second finger and began to pump his lover gently while stroking the hard erection.

Fai tried to touch him, bring him equal pleasure, but Kurogane refused.

His co*ck was stiff and painful, but this was his punishment for wanting Syaoran.

…

Now, Kurogane was sleeping in Sakura’s room with Fai nestled at his side. The door was open so he would hear Sakura if she called and the lights were out, plunging the living room into a darkness that was only permeated by the television. Sakura was staring at the pad of paper in her hands and Syaoran was blankly flipping through the late-night channels. Per usual, nothing was on, but he appeared content just to blankly watch infomercials.

Sakura just read the words over and over, unable to completely process what Syaoran had offered.

“Syaoran?” She whispered.

He ignored her. He hadn’t looked at or written to her all night.

Syaoran was closing himself off, retreating, shutting down.

She stared at his scrawl: Protect you. Give him me.

Her eyes strayed to the wounds on his neck, to the healing bruises on his face, to the faint scars on his mouth. Syaoran would give himself up to protect her, delivered like a beautiful present back into Fei-Wang’s hands, back into that Hell.

Sakura tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but to no avail. Tears welled up in her eyes and made slow trails down her face. She tried not to sob or shudder in torment, but her attempt was in vain. The moment a shudder wracked her slender frame and a sob crept up her throat, Syaoran was looking at her.

His amber eyes were gentle, beautiful.

He carefully brushed the tears from her cheeks and leaned their faces in very close. Their foreheads touched, chocolate and caramel curling together across pale crème colored skin. The scent of Syaoran wrapped around Sakura, soothing her.

Bruises and beauty.

He didn’t say anything, just sat there like that with her. She could smell ink on his skin, on the paper in her lap, speaking those great and terrible words.

A great and terrible sacrifice.

Protect you. Give him me.

Sakura sobbed and wrapped her arms slowly around Syaoran’s body. He allowed her, barely rippling with tension. He was at ease with her or else he had retreated deep into himself and no longer felt her touch. That both troubled and relieved her.

Maybe they would make it through this unscathed.

If and only if the plan pulled through, but it depended on a lot of things…

…

Syaoran wondered and knew what had caused him to give himself up for the nurse who had tended him. He wanted to protect some of the good in this world. He wanted to know if there was more to this life and he felt that she could teach him, but he couldn’t know that if Fei-Wang killed her. So…

Protect her. Give him me.

The thought of being in Fei-Wang’s hands again made him sick, but for this woman he barely knew he would step blindly into this Hell.

“Syaoran?”

He chose to ignore her, watching the television late-night infomercials. They were bad and not the least bit distracting so he heard her just fine. It wasn’t the first time she had tried to get his attention, but he was studiously trying not to look at her.

Syaoran lost himself in the world of the most perfect exercise equipment and then a CD with the finest examples of eighties music.

Then, he felt her shudder beside him. Her shoulder was touching him, warm and firm. She trembled and a sob wrenched from her throat. She sounded like she was breaking apart. So, he turned to her.

Sakura’s beautiful jade-green eyes were light and shiny with tears. Crystals and diamonds ran down her cheeks, down her throat, beneath her shirt. Her caramel colored hair was pasted to her damp cheeks, to her throat, hanging in wisps around her face. She looked tired, there were dark circles under her eyes.

Even so, he thought she was the most beautiful creature in the world. And he had seen, and been f*cked by, the gorgeous women in Fei-Wang’s Fantasy Ring, but their beauty was only skin deep.

Sakura was an angel.

The angel that had saved him.

Even if he died at Fei-Wang’s hands, he would know that he had done something good before that darkness took him.

He would know that he had saved her.

Protect you. Give him me.

He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed her in.

She was sobbing, shuddering.

He could smell the salt of her tears.

His throat worked to speak, but no sound would come. So, he simply nuzzled his nose against the curve of her cheekbone.

Then, she surprised him. She put her arms around him, so soft and warm against him. He almost returned her embrace, but the fear was bitter and palpable in the back of his throat. He wasn’t ready to hold her yet.

He could die for her, but he could not touch her… not until he was clean…

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 23: Shots Fired: The Switch

Chapter Text

Thank God it’s Friday!

Protect you. Give him me.

Those simple words, assembled in that particular order, had started it all.

They were gathered in the subway. Kurogane was ducked behind a pillar, Fai was seated near the arrival-departure neon-green-yellow board with a newspaper in front of his pale face, and Xing-Huo lingered at the edge of the boarding platform. She was carrying a canvas bag with a heavy gun, pepper spray, and a tazer in it. Sakura and Syaoran were standing at the prearranged trade-off location. Sakura had a gun in the pocket of her coat and her hand was wrapped securely around it. Syaoran was wearing plain jeans, a sweatshirt, and a heavy denim jacket and carrying a telescoping baton.

Provided Fei-Wang Reed didn’t kill them on sight, this plan may actually work.

Fai whispered into the walkie-talkie he was carrying. Kurogane responded and Xing-Huo nodded without a word. Sakura heard, but made no sign.

Her fingers tightened around the trigger guard.

Then, the subway pulled in.

They had ten minutes. Then, this would either all come to a close or the subway left with Syaoran in Fei-Wang’s possession or they would be dead.

The doors hissed open and a rush of hot foul-smelling air blew over Sakura, Syaoran, and Xing-Huo in her distant location. Fai fluffed the paper in front of his face, hiding effectively where he was sitting with his legs crossed, waiting and looking like a normal commuter. Kurogane, a big easily-recognizable policeman, was hiding in the shadows of a pillar. He already had his gun drawn, hoping to shoot Fei-Wang of any one of his flunkies before Xing-Huo or Sakura had to.

Then, a tall pale blonde stepped from the subway. He was carrying a young woman wrapped in a dark expanse of fabric. She had a fall of pale platinum tresses draped down over his arm. He glanced around for a moment and then purposefully strode toward Syaoran and Sakura.

Kurogane felt a shiver go down his spine. This man had come alone with a young woman that appeared, from this distance, to be Chi. He was either very good or Fei-Wang was being careless or this man was suicidal and planned to kill the kids on sight. All of these outcomes were disconcerting.

Fai, on the other hand, felt a shiver of a different kind going down his spine. The paper grew damp in his palms and he trembled so that he couldn’t read it any longer, not that he had been to start with, but the charade would be hard to uphold while shaking like a leaf.

Yui! The man was Yui!

Xing-Huo ground her teeth and slid her hand into her canvas shoulder bag. She found the cold metal of the gun and gripped it firmly, but it didn’t comfort her. She watched the man out of the corner of her eye as he approached Syaoran and Sakura. She didn’t recognize him, but the fall of platinum hair—Chi’s long beautiful silver-blonde hair—was a dead giveaway. She mimed checking her watched and gazing up the tunnel for the next train.

…

Sakura wrapped her fingers through the crook of Syaoran’s bent elbow and tugged on him lightly as the man approached them. A shudder ran through Syaoran, but then his muscles bunched beneath her hand and he appeared to draw himself together.

The man stopped in front of them and released Chi’s legs. They dropped limply to the floor, hanging like limp noodles. The cloak dropped back from her face and her head fell over his arm, following the wave of long loose hair. She looked like a sacrifice, but she appeared unharmed.

“Let’s go,” the man said and extended Chi in Syaoran’s direction.

Syaoran didn’t take her, but Sakura reached for the young woman.

The man glowered at her and then looked at Syaoran, hard. “The deal was Sakura for Chi, no one else, unless…” He stared at Syaoran. “Are you giving yourself up in the nurse’s place? The boss will accept either you or his other daughter, Xing-Huo.”

Syaoran nodded.

Sakura grasped Chi under her frail shoulders and lifted her out of this man’s arms. As the man reached for Syaoran, the first shot was squeezed off.

…

People started screaming and running, like ants or chickens with their heads cut off. The same panic that came when crisis situation that everyone else had been previously unaware of was revealed. The alarm felt by those directly involved in the crisis was exponentially larger.

…

Kurogane had been waiting for an opening, but the bullet didn’t come from his drawn weapon. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure where the shot had come from.

But, in that instant, Xing-Huo screamed and a spray of blood fanned out from her shoulder. The bullet had torn through the side of her arm and sunk into the side of the subway train. She slammed her hand over the flesh wound and whirled wildly around in search of her hidden shooter.

Fai tossed down his newspaper and leaped to his feet. As he ran to her side, a second shot rang out. He was thrown to the ground with the force of the shot and Kurogane was glad he had forced everyone to wear bullet-proof vests. Wheezing and sputtering, he made his way to Xing-Huo’s side and pressed his able fingers to the wound on her arm.

Xing-Huo pushed weakly at him, craning her head to see around him. She saw the flash of a gun and yanked Fai down by some of his pale golden hair. The bullet whistled through the air as it passed next to his head. She heard it clatter against the concrete.

A scream welled up in her throat. Fai’s head was on her chest. Her racing heart echoed in his ears, pounding so fast that he thought it might give out or explode from her chest.

…

Kurogane saw the flash of the gun, the location of the shooter, the instant Xing-Huo did. Then, he felt the press of a barrel in the middle of his lower back.

“This is a shotgun. Bullet-proof vest or not, this will blow a hole right through you,” a voice snarled next to his ear. It was vaguely feminine, but he wasn’t really focusing on that.
Kurogane felt the first stirrings of pure unadulterated panic swallow up his gut. He couldn’t think of any way to safely get out of this and still save the kids.

Something smashed into the back of his head and darkness wrapped around him like the greedy arms of a chubby aunt. He hit the ground and his eyes were open only long enough to see red Converse high-tops step over him. There was blood in the treads on the bottom of the sneakers and sand, but that was all he saw.

…

By now, the subway station was empty and sirens were howling in the distance.

Sakura saw Xing-Huo go down and Fai run to her. Then, she saw Kurogane smash into the floor.

A woman stepped from the shadows behind Kurogane. She was carrying a shotgun with the barrel sawed off and she was deadly gorgeous.

She clutched Chi tightly to her as Syaoran swung out the telescoping baton and aimed it at the man’s head. He caught it inches from the bridge of his nose and ripped it out of Syaoran’s hands. Then, he swung the weapon at Syaoran’s shoulder and clipped him neatly in the jaw. Reeling, Syaoran smashed into the floor harder than Kurogane had.

Panic gnawed Sakura’s gut and she scrambled for the gun in her pocket. She drew it and aimed blindly, first at the woman. Chi flopped, dead weight in her arms, and sent the shot askew. Sakura squeezed off another before the woman could raise the shotgun. It caught the woman in the face and she slammed backwards. She didn’t move: deader than a doornail.

Sakura whirled on the man, but his fist was already coming for her face.

She heard her nose crack and her teeth plunged through her tongue. Blood flooded her mouth and then black flooded her vision. She lost her hold on Chi and crumpled beside Syaoran. He weakly wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against his body. It was amazing that he was even still conscious.

“Syaoran…?”

But then she was lost in black unconsciousness.

…

Fai was too focused on Xing-Huo to see Yui gather up Syaoran over his shoulder and Sakura under his other arm. Syaoran was struggling weakly, but it was feeble, maybe he wasn’t even conscious anymore. The woman Sakura had shot was twitching the last threads of her life away on the floor near Kurogane. Her blood was warm and sticky, spreading around the policeman’s face.

By the time Fai turned away from Xing-Huo, Sakura and Syaoran were gone and Chi was a crumpled heap on the boarding platform.

The trade had taken place, but Fei-Wang had won this round, but he had taken it fairly.

He had left Chi and taken Syaoran.

Sakura had killed one of his own so he had taken her, too, as retribution.

The only part that would haunt Fai forever, even more so than the things that will have happened to Sakura and Syaoran, was that Yui had taken them.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 24: Location: Unknown & Villain: Known

Chapter Text

I am so sick. I have a head cold.

Sakura woke up on a cool tile floor. It was white, shiny, and smelled of Lysol. She felt stiff and her back protested as she got her arms underneath her and slowly sat up. Her head swam and a wave of nausea crashed over her. She was almost sick to her stomach, but a more pressing matter kept her from puking.

Where was Syaoran?

Dizzily, she looked around the room.

It was windowless and sparsely furnished with only a bed, night table, and small desk lamp with a flexible neck that threw off little to no light. The air was still, stagnant and vaguely musty. Sakura deduced that the room must be situated underground in a basem*nt or something equally unpleasant.

Then, the disastrous results of the switch came crashing back over her full force.

The people screaming and running like insects.

Xing-Huo’s arm spraying blood. The scream inside the young woman’s mouth, just waiting to come out, but she was as silent as Syaoran.

Fai running for her, being thrown down against the floor of the subway station by a second shot.

Kurogane: useless, unable to help. Threatened and then struck down, unconscious.

Chi’s fall of platinum hair over that unknown man’s arm.

Syaoran attempting to fight, being struck, falling…

The jerk of the gun in her hand when she fired it.

Killing that woman.

The unknown man’s fist in her face.

The taste of her own blood in her mouth.

The scent of Syaoran all around her.

And, then…

There was nothing, just empty blackness.

Their plan had failed, fallen to ruin.

Sakura sniffed and scrubbed her face with her hands. Another wave of dizziness crashed over her and her body broke out in a chilly cold sweat. She was still wearing her clothes: jeans, t-shirt, and jacket with sneakers.

Thank God for small blessings.

She staggered to her feet and went to the bed. It was neatly made, undisturbed, and she sat down on the edge. She wrestled the shade off the little lamp and was blinded by the brightness of the bare bulb. Such a high watt was surely dangerous in such a little lamp. Armed with this new light, she scoured the room.

Syaoran was nowhere to be found.

She was completely and totally alone here.

…

Syaoran woke up considerably less comfortably than Sakura did. True, he was lying on a mattress and not on the floor, but that did little to comfort him.

It was pitch black where he was and he feared he had once again lost his vision, but even blinded, he would not be a victim. He tried to get his hands beneath him and found them shackled securely to the headboard. Unperturbed, Syaoran twisted about until he had his legs between himself and the board. Then, he taxed his muscles to their limit trying to break free. The cuffs around his wrists dug into his flesh and he smelled blood, but he continued to fight the bindings.

Finally, the head board cracked.

Groping along the break with one hand, he slid his wrists free and rolled off the bed. Soft warm carpet was beneath his feet: shag by the rotten feel of it.

Puzzled, he ran his hands down his body. He had been stripped of all but his jeans.

Syaoran ground his teeth and groped along the walls for something, anything.

One palm slid across something smooth and cool, glass maybe, in the middle of the wall opposite the bed. Syaoran struck it lightly, experimentally, but it held. It was most likely a one-way mirror and some sick bastards were watching him right now, laughing at his attempt to escape.

A light went on behind that panel and Syaoran found it not to be a mirror, one-way or otherwise, but a window that looked out into the room next door.

He didn’t know the young woman cowering in the knee space underneath the desk, but he knew what Fei-Wang had in mind for her. She was clutching a ruler as her only weapon and wearing a slu*tty schoolgirl uniform that was a few sizes too small for her. She was a beautiful redhead: slender with long creamy legs beneath the skirt the color of old blood, full breasts pressing under the blouse, nipples raised with cold and fear. Syaoran could see the fringe of lacy pink panties under that skirt. They were a bit dirty and he absently wondered how long she had been trapped here.

The room where the young woman was hiding was furnished only with that desk and a single door positioned so that where she was hiding she couldn’t be seen. But, they knew where she was. They even knew she had a ruler as a small weak weapon. They were playing with her.

The door opened. A tall young man, slender and handsome, with long dark hair and sensitive glasses perched on the end of a crooked nose opened the door. Syaoran knew him. His name was Kyle. He had been cosplaying a doctor when Syaoran first met him. Shortly after that, Kyle had sewed Syaoran’s eyes and mouth shut.

Kyle made a show of looking for the young woman, waiting as she sobbed and panicked in the confines of the space under the desk.

Syaoran beat the glass with his fists, but it was soundproof and thick. There was nothing he could do to help her.

Finally, Kyle hauled her, screaming and crying, out from under the desk. She managed to get off one solid hit with the ruler, drawing a thick line of crimson across his cheek. Kyle wiped it away and Syaoran saw the cruelty spread across his face. The young woman saw it, too. She started screaming in terror.

Syaoran looked away, but he still knew what was happening. He had seen it all before. He had had it happen to him, only in a different way.

Kyle would beat her into submission, tear open the blouse, and fondle her breasts until they were red and raw. Then, he would rip off her panties, shove fingers inside her and stretch her wide and cruel for the camera that was surely recording this terrible game. There would be blood if she was a virgin and pain either way. Kyle would unzip his trousers and release the beast. Since the young woman had struck him, drawn his blood, he would shove his fist into her vagin* and thrust his dick up her asshole.

Her screams would turn to howls of anguish. Then, hopeless sobs of resignation as Kyle changed positions and angles countless times for the camera. Then, he would leave her spent and shivering for the next act.

Syaoran knew this. He knew where he was.

He had spent much of his life in this horrible place.

Fei-Wang Reed’s Fantasy Ring to its lovely paying customers.

The p*rn Cage to its tormented employees.

All under the thumb of Fei-Wang.

But, as always, he held the hope that he might escape.

This time, though, it wasn’t just himself he had to save.

He had to protect Sakura, too.

…

“We have to help them!” Xing-Huo shouted.

“Xing-Huo, you have to sit down or you’ll open that wound again,” Fai said patiently, but his voice was haggard and thin. He patted Chi’s face with a cool damp rag. “Come now, have a seat.”

“I don’t want a seat! We have to go after Syaoran and Sakura. The longer we wait, the greater chance that Fei-Wang will move them to a different location!” Xing-Huo yelled.

Kurogane was watching the young woman pace restlessly around the coffee table of Sakura’s apartment. It was the only place they could think to return to after the failed trap. Chi was laid out on the couch, her head in Fai’s lap, platinum hair tumbling down over the side of the couch. Kurogane was seated in the armchair while Xing-Huo, until just recently, had been sitting on the coffee table.

“Xing-Huo, I know what you’re saying,” Kurogane said finally. “But where would you have us start looking for them? The entire police force had been looking for Syaoran for two weeks dedicatedly and for

Fei-Wang’s lair even longer. We couldn’t find Syaoran until Fei-Wang gave him back to us, right on our doorstep. The chances of us finding them now are slim to none, especially in this state of panic we’re all in.”

Xing-Huo sat down on the table and looked at him. A bead of blood rolled down her arm and a tear rolled down her pale cheek. She didn’t say anything.

No one did.

Then, so quiet that they first thought they had imagined it, “I… can tell you… where to go…” Chi’s eyes were bloodshot, but clear. Her rose-petal lips form a faint smile. “I know… where he is…”

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 25: Location: Known & Villain: Unknown

Chapter Text

Syaoran hadn’t watched Kyle raping the redhead and thanks to the soundproof glass, he hadn’t heard it either. He sat below the window with his legs drawn up against his chest and his hands over his ears. His eyes were squeezed shut and a few occasional tremors wracked his body.

He was cold.

The world felt like ice, pressing in against his skin, piercing through him.

His body felt heavy, limp and weak.

He didn’t know how long he sat there.

In the dark.

Time was s l o w and heavy around him.

Time was just passing, second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day…

A band of light spread across the floor when the door opened. Someone was shoved inside, sprawling across the floor with a painful sounding thud. A light came on, illuminating the space. But Syaoran, with his face pressed into his knees and his hands over his ears knew nothing until the chilled hands grasped his shoulders and shook him.

“Syaoran!”

His head snapped up and he was blinded by the quick transition from darkness to light. It took a moment for him to make out the smudge of Sakura’s white face in front of him. Finally, her jade-green eyes came into focus.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, staring around the room.

It was empty. Nothing here could be used as a weapon.

Not even a ruler.

“Syaoran, are you alright?”

He could feel her fingers pressing at his ribs, naked flesh on flesh. A sliver of fear ran down his spine and he pushed her back.

“Syaoran?” Sakura whispered.

His amber eyes were red-rimmed, glowing, and bloodshot. His chocolate hair hung lank in his face, wisps around his cheekbones. Sakura recalled the damage to him when he first arrived at the hospital, the heavy gauze that was still wound around and around his throat. She didn’t touch him, but she vowed that she would do whatever she could to protect him from this place. He would not be broken so completely again.

…

They sat, side by side, in that room for a long time.

Syaoran was completely unmoving, resting with his head on his bent knees. His back was pale and sinuous, curved with muscle and bone. Sakura’s only source of comfort was the steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Occasionally, Sakura would stand and stretch and peek cautiously through the window that looked out into the other room.

There was always a show going for them.

More disturbing than the violent rapes or brutality via vibrators and toys, whips and bondage, were the ones who actually enjoyed it.

Now, spread eagle on the desk, as naked as the day she was born, was a beautiful brunette with caramel-colored complexion. The man between her legs was blonde, pale, and lean. His back was scarred, but not unattractively so. The brunette was moaning, bucking her hips, and writhing to unheard music as the man pumped fingers and tongue in and out of her dripping snatch. She gripped his hair and pulled him to her mouth. They kissed; she bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he slammed his fat co*ck into her puss*. Her breasts jiggled with the animal force of their sex. Then, he pulled out and sprayed his cream all over her face and chest.

Then, she rolled over onto her stomach and poked her pert little ass in the air. He f*cked her doggy-style in the ass, then in her puss*, and finally in her mouth. After a moment of exhausted panting, the brunette waved to someone unseen and a second man entered the little room.

Both men sandwiched her between them and f*cked her twice as hard. They took her differently each time: separate in both her ass and puss*, then both co*cks in her puss*, and finally both in her ass. Sometimes, if the light was right, one could see the dicks stabbing through to her stomach, but she was enjoying every minute of it.

At first, sick curiosity, Sakura had been enraptured by the sight. Syaoran had grasped her hand and pulled her down beside him, shaking his head.

Soon, Sakura just didn’t look at all.

She sat wordlessly beside him in the lighted room.

Soon, the torture would be theirs. Sakura felt that in her very core.

…

Chi had given them the location as best she could, but Kurogane was confident they would be able to find it. The warehouse Chi was describing was empty and unused above, but there was an elaborate underground maze below it. She didn’t know the code that would get them in, but she had described where to find the hidden door. So now, Kurogane and an elite team of his best men, with Fai D. Fluorite standing by as medic, prepared to destroy Fei-Wang’s fantasy.

Xing-Huo had remained in Sakura’s apartment with Chi, barricaded up with Kurogane’s shotgun. Unlike a pistol, with a shotgun, you didn’t have to aim, you just had to get close. Even Chi could do that and Xing-Huo was a good shot.

Kurogane was confidant the girls would be okay.

They were standing in front of the wall now. One of the other officers scraped away the mildews wood and there was a gleam of steel beneath it. Nodding, Kurogane allowed another officer to rig the explosives. He waited until everyone had their gasmasks on before giving the signal to blow it away.

The explosion resonated, shaking the ground like an earthquake.

The officers moved in quickly.

Maze had been the wrong word to accurately describe the underground network. There was one main tunnel leading down to a hallway of rooms with assorted furniture in them. Most appeared empty. Several were rigged with expensive cameras and lights. Others had people in them: people cowering and sobbing, young woman being raped, young men being beaten, couples f*cking.

It was sick.

They were so immersed in these sexual fantasies that they hadn’t responded to the explosion. Either that or the rooms had been soundproofed. Most likely the latter because no matter how good the sex was, an explosion was bound to ruin it.

Kurogane nodded to his team, Fai at the back carrying his medical kit.

“Alright, clear it out,” he muttered to himself. His voice sounded eerie inside the mask.

If everything went well, they would have to use the tear gas.

He hoped for that.

…

Syaoran and Sakura had felt the explosion as it rumbled through the ground. Instantly, they were both up. The people in a room next to them appeared not to have felt the aftershock. They continued having sex as if nothing had happened.

Syaoran took Sakura’s hand and pulled her over to the door. Then, he pushed her gently against the wall next to it and pressed his warm body over hers as a shield. A blow came on the door, once, twice. Then, it was still. There was some shouting and then another violent blow that sent the door exploding inward.

Kurogane’s hulking figure appeared in the doorway. “Kids,” he said and his voice was muffled.

Fai was behind him. He held open his arms.

Sakura fell into the doctor.

It was over. They were safe.

…

Syaoran took a few steps after her, pulled his hand from her grasp while she sobbed into Fai, and looked up at Kurogane.

The policeman knew that look.

He shook his head.

Yes, I know it was anticlimactic, but that’s because…

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 26: The Serpent: Waits & Watches

Chapter Text

Nothing to say except…

Fei-Wang needed something much stronger than Scotch, maybe some ice-cold Vodka or Whiskey from the freezer. He needed something to soothe the ache in his chest. Sex didn’t often do it for him anymore, the circ*mstances had to be right for it.

That’s why the whor*, one of his favorites, was lying on his bed like a model.

She was stark naked and gorgeous.

Her skin was flawless, air-brushed with artistic perfection, translucent at her hips and wrists and around her eyes. It was rose-colored and velvet-soft. Sometimes, he just liked touching her. He liked the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, soft and vulnerable, warm.

Her hair was spread out on the sheets. Garlands and waves of rose-colored hair, strawberry blonde, rich ruby in the right light, fanned out like silk. Tendrils rolled down her back and over her shoulders, veiling her dusky areolas and pert raised nipples. Her breasts were full and round. They filled his hands and then some, spilling out over his palms, as soft as a baby. Her shoulders were shiny, glowing in the dim light, as if they had been polished.

Her waist was narrow, but flared at the hips. The contour of her body flowed perfectly into her long slender legs. Her thighs were soft, cream-colored, and paler than her breasts. Her feet were delicate, like those of a bird. Her toenails were painted violet, maybe cobalt. The color went well with her rosy skin and blushing hair.

Fei-Wang gestured at her with the hand not holding his glass of dissatisfying Scotch.

She dipped her head, shyly, coyly, and spread her legs. The triangle of pale ginger curls was trimmed neatly, not close, but not too long. She glimmered with diamond wetness, aroused by his watchfulness. She liked to be watched.

Fei-Wang gestured again, impatient now, and that was the end of her games.

She slid her fingers through her nether lips, parted them so that he could see her center. She was dripping and hairless and as white as milk. Save her very core and sensitive pearl which were flushed pink as if they, too, were hot with desire. Smiling, eyes sliding closed in bliss, she touched herself.

She batted her eyelashes, so long and thick that they shadowed her face. They were the only thing he didn’t like about her: her eyes and her lashes. She insisted on wearing heavy black mascara that destroyed her pale red lashes and her eyes were flint black, cold and calculating, just like his.

To avoid seeing those flint-black eyes, Fei-Wang let his mind wander. He listened with half an ear to the sounds of her: to her puss* greedily sucking and holding her fingers, to her quiet moans, and heavy breathing. She cried out with ecstasy.

Fei-Wang’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. There was a short, no nonsense text on the screen beneath the caller ID.

The smile that had been forming on Fei-Wang’s face fell off.

The text was from Yui.

The warehouse was breached. They got them all.

He responded quickly: You too?

In only a moment, the phone vibrated again.

Eager, Fei-Wang read the screen.

No. I got out.

The smile came back. He was still in business.

Fei-Wang got up, crossed the room to where his favorite whor* was lounging on the bed, and knelt between her spread legs. She looked at him through those lashes he hated with those eyes he despised. At that moment he would very much liked to have gouged them out, but he resisted.

Soon, he would have his Syaoran and that night-shift nurse back in his clutches and what he had planned for them would be much more cruel. Taking out his rage on this slu*t would be alleviating now, but it wasn’t really her he was angry with. He wanted to save his energies for his son and the nurse.

So, he put his phone on vibrate and pressed it against her flushed bud.

She moaned, gripping his hand and pressing it closer.

“Is this what you want, whor*?” He teased.

She closed her eyes and tilted back her head and the urge to hurt her instantly abated. Her feet ghosted on the tops of his shoulders and he allowed them to settle there. Then, he put the vibrating phone into her puss* and pinched her sensitive pearl. She moaned and screamed, howling her pleasure as he played her body like a fiddle.

The whor* came, nectar flowing from her slit. He let it stain the sheets and glanced up to see her fingers stilling on her nipples. She was an arousing sight, spread eagle like this. She was flushed pink and panting, chest shiny with a sheen of sweat, legs spread with just a bit of the phone peeking out from inside her snatch, fingers tweaking her nipples.

In his trousers, his dick remained as flaccid and uninterested as if confronted by a pitcher of milk.

That was alright though, soon he would have Syaoran and the nurse back in his possession.

He was already excited.

Syaoran was so noble, so beautiful, so deeply trusting.

Sakura was stunning, so gentle, so kind, so angelic.

He wanted to destroy Syaoran again, have the joy of seeing his brave son break on countless levels. And he wanted to destroy the humility in the nurse, see her lose all faith in humanity. In order to do that, he would have to allow them to think they had escaped him, that he had retreated like beaten dog once his ring had been broken.

So, for now, Fei-Wang would wait.

He returned to his favorite whor* and made her get up on her hands and knees with her slit exposed evenly to his eyes. The scent of her arousal wafted to his nose, tingled in his nostrils. Her asshole was tight, untouched, maybe virgin, maybe just long unused. Her puss* sucked at the phone when he slid it from her.

He would wait.

After all, he had plenty to do to pass the time.

Just to let everyone know what’s going on while I beat through some nice boring hurt/comfort chapters.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 27: Dream Sequence: Nightmares with Eyes

Chapter Text

Nothing much going on in my world.

This world on the other hand… whoa…

Exhausted and grimy, Sakura sagged against the hard back of her kitchen chair. The cushion under her butt did little to soothe the ache in her back brought on by sitting for hours on the cold floor next to Syaoran. If he was uncomfortable on a second kitchen chair, he didn’t show it.

Chi was sleeping peacefully on the sofa with her head in Fai’s lap. The doctor was stroking her pale platinum hair back from her face. She had lost a little weight and her skin was a little grey, but she looked no worse for the wear. There had been no signs of sexual assault on her body.

Kurogane was seated in the overstuffed armchair, watching his lover and his two children. His face wore a pensive expression, but his crimson eyes were tired.

Xing-Huo was perched, cross-legged, on the coffee table, but she hadn’t been there long. The young woman leaped up every few minutes to fuss over everyone in the room. It was a wonder she had any energy left at all.

Stress alone had wiped out Chi, to say nothing for Kurogane and Fai who were still coming down off the adrenaline from the siege of the underground complex. Sakura was surprised she could keep her eyes open and Syaoran was fading fast beside her. Every so often, he jerked awake again.

“So,” Sakura ventured quietly. Her voice cut through the room. All eyes were on her. “I think we should all get some rest. If we squish, we should have enough beds.” She touched Syaoran’s hand where it was resting on his thigh and gave it a little squeeze. His lips curved into a delicate smile. “Fai and Kurogane can take the air mattress or my bed,” Sakura began.

“We’ll take the air mattress,” Fai chimed in. “I want to keep an eye on Chi and Kuro-chan should have an eye on the door.”

Sakura nodded. “Chi can stay on the couch and, Xing-Huo, would you mind stretching out somehow in the armchair?”

The young woman shook her head. “Not at all,” she said and jumped to her feet again. “Here, let me help you get some blankets.”

With their escape, the sleeping arrangements made, and everyone spread out in exhausted heaps throughout her apartment, Sakura thought the worst was behind them.

She thought wrong.

…

Syaoran couldn’t particularly say he was worried about sleeping with Sakura. There had been no hidden nuance in her words. She meant simply sleep, rest and recuperate, but a bubble of fear was blooming in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He coughed and tried to get a grip on his wild emotions, but they refused to come back under his hand.

While Sakura was in the bathroom, showering, Syaoran pulled a blanket off the bed and made himself a pallet on the floor. He laid on top of the folded cover, shivering in his sweatpants and t-shirt. Sakura’s footsteps were light in the hallway and she closed the door quietly behind her when she entered. He heard her sharp intake of breath, but he couldn’t see her from the floor with the bed rising like a mountain between them like this.

“Syaoran?!” There was a touch of panic in her voice, raw and hoarse.

He sat up and offered her a weak smile.

She let her breath out in a rush, calming instantly. “Ooh, you startled me. I thought…” She paused and shook her head as if to clear a terrible thought. “What are you doing down there, Syaoran?”

He looked at the bed and then at her. His brows drew together and then smoothed out very quickly. His face was a perfect mask. The only thing that gave away what he was feeling was his beautiful glowing amber eyes. They were dark with fear.

“Oh, Syaoran,” Sakura whispered and sat down on the edge of the bed. She patted the space beside her.

Timidly, he rose from the floor and perched beside her, drawn to the softness and light of her presence like a moth to a flame. Her beauty and kindness was alluring, held him enraptured, charmed his timidity. Like any moth, he was terrified of the burn, but came so close to the dazzling light any way.

He was so tired, exhausted. His body was malnourished, starved, beaten. The wounds in his throat bled at the slightest provocation. Muscles screamed and ached from weeks of underuse. It would be so easy for Sakura to…

He ground that train of thought to a halt.

She didn’t say anything, just wordlessly opened her arms to him.

He hesitated, still ripe with uncontrollable fear. She could hurt him… It would be so easy…

“Syaoran, what is it…?” She whispered.

He studied the curve of her legs, white and pure, unmarred. Her feet were delicate, toenails unpainted, veins blue beneath the thin skin. She was wearing plain cotton pajamas, shorts and a long-sleeved shirt with pearly buttons up the front. The top two were open, showing the flash of her pale throat and long fragile collarbones. Her hands, reaching out to him, were long-fingered with short rounded nails. Her hands were clean, still scented faintly of soap and shampoo. Her hair, pale caramel-colored, was dark with water and hung in wisps and wild curls around her face. The locks were dewed, dripping along her shoulders.

Finally, he reached her eyes: emerald, jade-green, the color of fresh summer grass, beautiful, sparkling, warm. The eyes were the window to the soul and hers were beautiful stunning gems. There was nothing to fear in those eyes, just endless patience and understanding.

He leaned into her and her hands cupped his shoulders momentarily before drawing him close.

She smelled wonderful, fresh and clean. Her skin was scented by blossoms and lavender with the faint touch of hospital disinfectant and clean linen. He relaxed against her, inhaling deep into his lungs.

“Syaoran, could you tell me what was bothering you…?” She whispered. Her breath stirred his hair, minty from brushing her teeth.

He buried his face against her shoulder, but his arms remained folded in his lap.

He couldn’t touch her…

He couldn’t tell her…

He just couldn’t…

“Syaoran? Would you like me to go?” The question was soft, unobtrusive, and beautifully kind.

He hadn’t felt that kindness in so long. He nearly sobbed.

She asked again, called his name.

He shook his head, pulled away from her, and retrieved the blanket from the floor. He handed her a corner and gently smoothed it back out over the mattress. He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn’t look at her. Wordlessly, still forced silent, he laid down beside her.

His back was a fortress of bone, ribs showing through his shirt.

“Goodnight, Syaoran,” Sakura whispered and laid down with her back to him.

His night was blessedly empty of dreams and nightmares, as was Sakura’s.

But, the terrors lurked in others’…

…

In the living room, everyone was asleep.

Chi was a pale shadow on the sofa, covered in a dark knitted afghan duvet. Platinum hair trailed over the edge, pooled on the floor. Chi’s face was upturned, smiling faintly. She slept quietly, breathing lightly. Xing-Huo, her mirror opposite, was a pale shape curled in the overstuffed armchair. Dark dense curls tight against her face and neck, hiding her. She had gathered the sheets in front of her body, clutched them closely. Her breath was barely audible, as if her existence was a secret.

On the floor behind the sofa, spooned together tightly, Fai and Kurogane slept. Another afghan was tossed carelessly over the couple, more on the floor than on them though it was cool in Sakura’s apartment. Fai’s pale hair mingled with Kurogane’s dark locks. The doctor smiled faintly in his sleep and mumbled occasionally, nonsensical sleep babble. Kurogane was still and quiet, his brown slightly wrinkled with pleasure or pain.

Behind his restless lids, the police officer had nightmares… dreamed…

The room was warm, hot. Sweat rolled down Kurogane’s back and shoulders. It hung in his hair like water. A single bead made its way down the cleft of his buttocks and ran over his balls like a trailing finger. His dick was already stiff and straining in his tight leather pants. It was almost painful, but pleasantly so.

The room was dark, not quite pitch black. As he thought of that, the room began to lighten as if the lamp was being switched on someplace he didn’t know. Finally, there was a single bright corner in the room, illuminating a bed. It was a big, exquisitely carved, four-poster king-sized bed draped with panels of red velvet and black lace. It was made up with black silk sheets and several long king-sized pillows. It was the bed of a king or a lord. Something from an earlier era.

Kurogane found the room cooler the closer he drew towards the bed until it reached a comfortably cool temperature. The sweat dried on his skin and all the blood rushed from his conscious mind to his dick.

Lying there, so pale and beautiful against the black silk, was Syaoran. The kid’s chocolate hair was shiny and satiny, spread out across the sheets. His face was turned to the side, curve of his jaw exposed and lovely. His pale body, thin and exquisitely muscled as it had been before Fei-Wang captured him, was artfully arranged on the bed. Legs dangling lightly over the edge, arms stretched above his head. His thighs were narrow, hips jutting from his body like the bones of a bird, and his arms were long and lean. His entire figure was sinew and bone. He was beautiful, alluring, like a hard drug.

His eyes moved beneath pale translucent lids. His lashes were long and thick, dark brown like his hair.

For a moment, Kurogane just looked at him and the urge to touch itched in his fingers. He watched Syaoran breathing, the steady rise and fall of his scrumptious chest. His dick twitched in his pants at the thought of the kid’s nakedness beneath the sheet arranged over his lower body.

“No harm in a peek,” Kurogane heard himself whisper. “Just a little peek…”

Then, his trembling fingers peeled the silk sheet slowly from Syaoran’s body. The kid made a small sound and shifted a little, but didn’t wake.

Growing fuller and harder to the point of pain, Kurogane was forced to unbutton and unzip the fly of his leather trousers. His dick burst forth, mushroomed head shiny with precum and sweat. He gripped the base of his shaft and gave it a little jerk, but there was no pleasure in masturbation, not with Syaoran just lying there before him.

Kurogane wet his lips, tasting the salt on his skin. He wondered what Syaoran would taste like.

“No harm in a taste,” he heard himself whisper. “Just a little taste…”

He licked his lips, released his shaft though it remained pressing out from him like a pole, and climbed onto the bed. He had his knees on either side of Syaoran’s narrow hips, supporting his weight easily. To balance, Kurogane gripped the kid’s wrists where they lay above his head. His dick brushed the satin-soft skin on Syaoran’s chest as he bent down.
Syaoran made another small sound and shifted.

Kurogane folded his mouth over Syaoran’s. He caught the kid’s lips like slices of meat, devoured him. With his tongue, he parted the kid’s lips and delved into the moist heat of his mouth, exploring the untouched cavern. The taste was pure, simple, just Syaoran.

The kiss went on forever, until Kurogane had to pull back and catch his breath. Syaoran’s lips were swollen from the harsh kisses, red. There was a bit of blood on his mouth, but Kurogane wasn’t sure whose it was. He didn’t remember biting or being bitten.

He rolled his tight shoulders.

“Tight,” he felt his mouth say. “I bet it’d be really tight… really fresh, really tight…”

Then, the control just left him. All he saw was Syaoran’s body and that was all he wanted, just the kid, and he didn’t care how he got what he wanted.

Kurogane stripped off the leather pants and tossed them somewhere into the darkness. Then, he rubbed the shiny precum all along his head. Satisfied with this attempt to soften what he was about to take, he bent over the kid’s prone form.

Something caught in Syaoran’s throat and weakly escaped as a whimper.

Kurogane rolled him onto his stomach and pulled him backwards so he was bent as the waist with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. To suit his desires, the bed rose to accommodate this position. Kurogane dropped to his knees, dug his fingers into Syaoran’s perfect round ass, and spread his cheeks. Then, Kurogane attacked his puckered asshole. He pressed with his tongue, wetting the ring of flesh, and then pushed one finer quickly and deeply into the kid.

Syaoran made a small sound of pain and his body spasmed against the intrusion.

Kurogane added a second finger, loving the clench of Syaoran’s muscles around them. He could only imagine the feel of those untouched muscles clenching down and milking his dick. It would be heaven! He made a short scissoring motion, stretching the kid a little bit more. Then, he pulled his fingers out.

Syaoran murmured, moaned.

Kurogane licked his back, suckled his shoulder and the side of his throat, as he worked his way up the kid. Then, he pinned his wrists above his head with one hand and gripped his hip with the other. His dick was hot and hard against the cleft of Syaoran’s butt. Kurogane clenched his teeth as the tip of his head found the puckered opening and began to apply pressure, pleasure.

He groaned.

Syaoran whimpered. The muscles in his back rippled and his hips shifted.

Kurogane thrust brutally into him with a howl that drowned out Syaoran’s own cry of agony.

Kurogane thrust, deeper, harder, faster. His balls slapped against Syaoran’s ass as steadily as a drum, beating, beating, beating. Kurogane continued pounding to him, relishing the clenching and tearing of the tight muscles as he moved. The outright intrusion was ripping Syaoran apart, lubricating with blood and cum the harder Kurogane slammed into him. The coil was building in his gut, tighter and tight, until he finally exploded.

sem*n leaked out of the abused opening when he pulled out, panting and heaving.

Kurogane rolled the kid over to kiss him again, harder, with the taste of sex on his tongue.

Syaoran’s eyes were open, amber orbs glowing in a pool of bloodshot whites. Tears leaked from his right eye, trailed down his face. It was broken, shattered, horrified. The left was accusatory, angry, mean.

Kurogane stumbled back, coming back to his sensed with a crash.

“Oh God, kid. I’m so sorry–”

Syaoran’s arms still lay limply above his head. His body looked expended, like that of a rag doll, of a toy, used and tossed away. Those amber eyes continued burning into Kurogane, searing him soul worse than the fires of Hell.

They haunted him, followed him…

Kurogane woke with a start. His arms were locked around Fai, squeezing so tight that his lover was struggling to draw a deep breath. Quickly, Kurogane released him and sat up. He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked down the hallway where Sakura’s bedroom door was closed.

That dream came to him frequently and it never ceased to terrify him. The darkest wishes and desires of the human mind always revealed themselves in dreams with shuddering force. Kurogane could still feel the clench of Syaoran’s ass, the taste of his skin, the sound of his balls slapping against him. And, even in his waking hours, he always felt those eyes.

Syaoran’s horrible broken accusing amber eyes searing through him like a knife.

He always felt those eyes.

Yes, that did have a purpose other than just scaring everyone senseless so pipe down.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 28: Hot Water & Steam

Chapter Text

I finished [redacted], so if anyone was waiting with baited breath for that story to finish, it’s posted now. So all my energy, which I have very little of thanks to this cold, will now be dedicated solely to [redacted].

And to AshenMarsha, thank you so much for the praise. I know it could be pretty obscene with all the rape and sex in this story, but I don’t know much about detectives and the other things involved in a crime novel. I figured no one who reads this will know much about the underground world of p*rn so my story would make sense and still give me plenty of creative liberty. Plus, Emotionally Unstable Fangirl gave me the base idea for this story and she wanted to see Syaoran raped…

Sakura woke up to the smell of bacon and burning toast. She was refreshed and well-rested, but ravenous. Even the burnt smell of bread was appealing to her rumbling stomach. Syaoran was still sleeping beside her, curled up with his arms wrapped around his long legs. His long thin fingers were delicate, like those of a child, and the rubs on his wrists were still bloodied lightly. His hair was spread out on the pillow and his shirt had crept up while he slept, exposing a long shaft of concave stomach. His skin was pale crème and faintly bruised and his ribs cast shadows where they dipped in and out of his torso. His breath was deep and even with exhaustion.

She felt a flush creep through her cheeks. The telltale heat in her ears and the tightening in her chest was a dead giveaway. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, deny that he was an attractive young man, but seeking a relationship with him was inappropriate. He was hurt and broken. He still couldn’t speak, wouldn’t allow himself to touch and be touched, wouldn’t open his heart for fear of being hurt. He still had a lot of fear in him, a lot of problems on his back.

Sakura pulled the blankets up around his shoulders and watched him sleeping.

Now that she thought about it, she didn’t really know all that much about him. She knew he was Kurogane and Fai’s adopted son. That he was Fei-Wang Reed’s blood son and had been raped and beaten by said father from a young age and then kidnapped just recently. She knew he had been hurt, but she knew he was a good person. He had protected her when Kyle and Yukito burst in, guns blazing, to her apartment. From the style and ability he had, she would guess he was a professional fighter, but she didn’t know that for certain. She knew he had offered himself in her place to get Chi back from Fei-Wang’s clutches and had soothed her in the underground lair where they had both been taken.
She didn’t know anything else about him… nothing about his parents, or his likes and dislikes, or childhood crushes, or his dreams…

With a jolt, she wondered if he even knew anything more about himself. Surely, being locked in an underground p*rnography ring was not a childhood he reminisced about with friends over coffee at the local café. He probably hadn’t gone to a public school or participated in sports or had a fun summer job. He probably didn’t have anything.

He had probably only started to live after Fai and Kurogane had adopted him.

She touched him cheek gently, brushing some russet hair out of his face. He groaned in his sleep and tightened his grip around his legs. Sakura drew her hand back against her chest sharply and bit her lower lip. Even the softest of touches frightened him on a subconscious level.

At that moment, she vowed to help him to the best of her ability.

…

Sakura’s apartment was cheap. It had just one bedroom, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and a small living room with a dining room table crammed somewhere into it. She had small hall closet for linens and coats, a puny pantry where she kept a box of canned nonperishable’s and a baseball bat for protection, and a little room with a washing machine packed into it. She hung her clothes out along the hallway to dry, suspended from light fixtures or the shower in the bathroom.

In the kitchen, Fai and Xing-Huo were working elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder, and squabbling.

“Fai, you cannot put bacon in the omelet yet,” Xing-Huo shouted and tried to wrestle the frying pan away from the tall lanky blonde. “Give it to me before you mess it all up!”

“It’s perfect for bacon!” Fai protested, prying off the young woman’s fingers. “Let me have it!”

Kurogane was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and looking put-upon. Chi was still asleep on the couch, breathing quietly.

“It amazing she can sleep through this,” Sakura remarked as she slid into the chair next to Kurogane. She would intervene in the kitchen if the battle escalated.

Kurogane sipped his coffee, black and bitter. “Well, she has a lot of practice,” he told the night-shift nurse.

“Oh?” Sakura asked and absently brushed some crumbs off the surface of the table. “Here. Use a coaster.”

Kurogane nodded and set the mug down on the ring of crockery. “Yeah, the kid and that idiot,” he gestured at Fai, “normally fight about breakfast every morning. It gets a little old,” he grumbled. “Chi’s normally still in bed then. She could sleep through anything; it makes me insanely jealous.”

“The kid? You mean Syaoran?” Sakura asked.

Kurogane wouldn’t meet her eyes, but nodded. “Yeah…”

“Give me the frying pan, Fai!”

“Never! Age before beauty!”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

“It means since I’m older, I’m right!”

“This isn’t about right!”

Sakura shook her head and stood up to intervene in the squabble in the kitchen.

…

Syaoran woke with a start. For a moment, he didn’t recognize his surroundings: the bed, the walls bare of pictures and memorabilia, the faint sunlight streaming through the blinds, the slight noise coming from somewhere else. He wondered if he was still trapped in that room in Fei-Wang’s Fantasy Ring. He gripped the sheets in his hands and drew them up against his chest. Then, little things began to seep through to him. The memories of their escape. Sakura, the wonderful night-shift nurse who had been taken with him. Her bed that smelled of blossoms instead of sex and sweat, her body breathing lightly next to him through the night. Kurogane and Fai wrapped around each other. Xing-Huo and Chi, his beautiful sisters, safe and sound.

He let his breath out in a rush and scrubbed his face with his hands.

This constant fear and worry was eating him alive from the inside out.

He tried to speak, tell himself to calm down, but his voice was lodged in his throat like a scream. For a moment, panic shook him and he wrapped his hands around his neck. A sharp pain stabbed through him and the scent of blood reached his nostrils. Right, the wounds on his neck, from that horrible collar…

He shuddered.

Syaoran struggled with his mind for a moment and finally found the strength to push the horrors out of his mind. He picked his, and he realized now that they were his clothes from his room at Fai’s house, clothes off of the floor. He pressed them to his face and breathed in deeply. His own scent, before the stench of sex and blood had defiled his skin, was sweet as sunlight and wood and soil.

He would be happy when this was all over, but he wondered if it ever would be…

He stepped into the hallway and listened for a moment to the sounds of life in the kitchen.

Kurogane’s voice, threatening people, was deep and rough, very influential, powerful. A voice expected of the chief of police.

Xing-Huo’s sounded happy, not the voice of someone who had suffered as she had. She should have been an actress.

Chi’s was lilting, that sing-song fairytale voice that lulled everyone. She was like a child, dressed up in a gown.

Fai was mirthful, laughing, teasing, but underlined with authority. He was a good doctor.

Syaoran waited to hear Sakura’s voice, waited.

He didn’t hear her.

She was silent.

Clutching his clothes tight against his chest, Syaoran went to shower.

The bathroom was small and cramped, but Sakura was neat. There was nothing scattered on the vanity: no creams or combs or tubes of toothpaste. There was a pump of soap in the corner and a hand towel folded neatly next to it. The shower curtain was not translucent. There was a heavy white curtain behind a thin plastic one with a pattern of dolphins and colorful fish on it. Several clean towels were stacked up on a shelf above the toilet with a box of tissues, a spare roll of toilet paper, and a can of air freshener. In the drawers were orderly arrangements of feminine things: combs and brushes, a few compacts of makeup, and a slim book titled Living with Pain.

Syaoran didn’t leaf through it.

He turned on the water and laid his clothes on the seat of the toilet. While the water warmed, Syaoran looked at his face in the mirror. He looked like someone who had survived Auschwitz, but barely. His amber eyes were sunken in his gaunt face. Bruises were still healing on his face. Heavy gauze was wrapped around and around his throat, but ran through with blood in some places. His hair needed cut and it hung in his face. Unable to see the condition of his body, he didn’t look in the mirror when he peeled off his shirt.
Then, he stepped under the stream of water and pulled the curtain closed behind him.

…

With the meal painstakingly finished and cleaned up after, Sakura patiently saw everyone off. Kurogane had to go back to the station and take care of the flunkies form Fei-Wang Reed’s Fantasy Ring. He promised to send another officer by within the hour just, in case. Chi needed to visit Hideki in the hospital, let him know that she was alright and talk about something that made her pale face flush. Fai had to get some sleep before his night shift. He assured Sakura several times that she didn’t need to come back in yet. She was to just focus on Syaoran and get some rest herself. Xing-Huo hugged her tightly and promised to come by the next day to see how Sakura and Syaoran were doing. She made Sakura swear to call her if she needed anything, anything at all.

Then, they all left, taking their noise with them.

It was so quiet.

Sakura leaned heavily against the door and looked over her empty apartment. She listened to the sound of water rushing through the pipes and the wind howling outside.

The world seemed so very lonely and so very bleak.

“I need some coffee,” she said to herself just to hear something other than the oppressive silence. Once her voice had faded, it seemed even quieter.

…

She rolled up and stowed the air mattress in the closet, folded the spare blankets on the couch, put the spare sheets from the sofa in the wash, put away the breakfast dishes, and now sat staring into the depths of her coffee mug at the kitchen table.

She realized how messed up her life had gotten.

After she threw out… the man she no longer chose to think about… she thought things would get better. Get a little more normal at the very least, but here she was.

Sakura Kinomoto was the unwilling star in her own dramatic and violent movie. Not for the first time, she wished she could just sleep… Sleep and wake up in a world where everything was better, kinder, happier, but life wasn’t that simple.

She leaned back in the chair, letting her head hang over the back and dig into her neck. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Sakura had seen a lot of horrible things and felt a lot of terrible things, just in the past few days.

The damage to Syaoran, seeing him screaming silently in terror. Fei-Wang grabbing her on her way home, having her shown, Yukito and Touya f*cking each other in front of her, being forced to impale herself on the vibrator, Touya’s head between her legs, the sounds of his licking and suckling. The awful pleasure that had wracked her body. Then, the failed switch, seeing that disgusting show Fei-Wang had put on for them, the parade of sex and p*rn and violence. Syaoran’s body, half-stripped, shuddering against her. The thought that that torture could have been theirs. Him pressing against her like a shield when Kurogane came to save them.

But it was all over now.

They were safe.

…

Syaoran had been in the shower for a long time.

Sakura decided to check on him.

She walked down the hall in stocking feet, her shadows chasing her, and knocked lightly. “Syaoran?” she called when there was no answer.

On the other side of the door, water continued to run.

“Syaoran, it’s Sakura. Are you alright?”

She hesitated and then went back to the kitchen to glance at the clock. It was passed noon and everyone had left at nine. She didn’t know exactly when Syaoran had gotten up and gotten in the shower. On the one hand, if she went into the bathroom and he was fine, she would feel like a worrywart. If she went in and he grew terrified, she would feel terrible. If she went in and he was unconscious, or dead, well… that would be a lot worse.

Sakura rubbed the back of her neck and lingered outside the door for a moment longer before deciding to give him one more chance and then go in.

“Syaoran, hey.”

She waited a moment.

“Alright, Syaoran, I’m coming in.”

It never really dawned on her that even if he did hear her, he couldn’t speak to respond.

A waft of steam rushed at her face like something alive. The fish and dolphins grinned merrily at her through it. The mirror was fogged over and everything was slightly damp from the condensation. Some clothes were folded neatly on the lid of the toilet and a towel was laid out over them.

Pale fingers slipped out along the curtain and the water abruptly shut off. Then, before she could say anything, the shower curtain was pushed back and Syaoran was exposed.
Sakura’s breath caught in her throat. She just stood there in the fading mist, staring at him, unable to say anything.

What kind of monster was Fei-Wang Reed…?!

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 29: Assault: Scars of Ink

Chapter Text

Alright, my bad. Sorry, so sorry, about the cliffhanger. Without further ado, here you are:

Pale fingers slipped out along the curtain and the water abruptly shut off. Then, before she could say anything, the shower curtain was pushed back and Syaoran was exposed.
Sakura’s breath caught in her throat. She just stood there in the fading mist, staring at him, unable to say anything.

What kind of monster was Fei-Wang Reed…?!

For a moment, Syaoran didn’t see her and her view of his body was unobstructed. He must not have heard her knocking, calling out to him, because his face shattered into a mask of unadulterated horror when he laid eyes on her standing there.

Syaoran was a beautiful young man.

He was lean and muscular, tight abdomen and defined torso, like a marble statue of a Greek god. His shoulders were chiseled, detailed. Pale honey colored skin stretched over the bones of his hips, over the curve of his sinuous ribcage, his collarbones, his shoulders, his hands and feet. His thighs were thin and taut with muscle. His arms and legs lightly touched by fine hairs. His skin was pink and healthy from the hot water, glowing. The bones of his face were defined and detailed. His jaw was firm and strong, lips pink and relaxed instead of pressed into a bloody line of worry. Water made his hair darker and shiny. The wounds on his throat were thin, most of the coagulated blood having washed away. The other horrors on his body were dwarf by the sheer raw sensuality that hung around him like a cloak.

He must have had a drop-dead gorgeous body before Fei-Wang had stripped the pounds from his frame if he was sexy as a beaten skeleton.

What really drew Sakura’s attention were not the horrible bloodied wounds or the beauty of his body, but the black tattoos.

There was a number, a few words, and a barcode in the soft white flesh under his arm. The choppy heavy black block letters were skewed and stretched, as if they had been done on a small child and then twisted as the child grew. They read whor* #16’s bastard son, #3, keep. She was loath to think what the opposite of keep was.

Then, worse, if that was even possible, branded above his hips was another tattoo. This one was more delicately done and consisted of the cruel words: To be f*cked and abused—my Syaoran.

There was a dense black arrow pointing down toward his crotch.

He had been covering the words with his arms when they were trapped in the underground room and he was shirtless. When he was standing, it just hadn’t been forefront in Sakura’s mind to ogle him.

As he reached for the towel, she saw a second arrow on his back, spanning down the cleft of his butt, and the words: Already used, not worth being loved.

On his chest was a delicate ornate heart, placed over his living beating heart. It would have been beautiful if there had been nothing written around it. In script: Then, murdered like a mongrel dog, worthless.

Now, not knowing that Sakura stood there, he didn’t hide it. Her hands went to her mouth, pressed against her lips, hid her horror.

What kind of monster was Fei-Wang Reed…?!

The barcode was say how little Syaoran would ever mean to him, just a thing. whor* #16’s bastard son, #3, keep. Even monsters had a scrap of affection for their babies.

The words across his hips and lower back, the heart on his chest like a target.

They outlined the life Syaoran was to live. My Syaoran: to be f*cked and abused, already used, not worth being loved, then, murdered like a mongrel dog, worthless.

To brand him like that? To defile him and destroy him?

Fei-Wang was more of a monster than Sakura could have ever imagined.

Then, he saw her.

All the color rushed from his face, turning him chalky pale, sickly. His eyes glazed over, turned from burnished bronze to dull mustard. His knuckles whitened around the towel and he slowly, as if it didn’t matter anymore, drew it up against his body to hide the tattoos from view. Part of the barcode peeked around his bicep. Then, with the towel wrapped around his waist, he slid to his knees in a heap. His pale naked back touched the cold rim of the tub. Goose bumps rose on his chest and arms. A single bead of blood welled up from the wounds on his throat and ran down his chest. It caught on the heart, hung there, and ran slowly over the word murdered.

Sakura was paralyzed. She wasn’t even looking at him any longer. Her jade-green eyes were fixed somewhere on the tiled wall behind him.

Then, tears welled up in her eyes and ran slowly down her cheeks.

She didn’t make a sound.

Neither could he.

…

Syaoran couldn’t accurately describe the horror that swelled through his body at the sight of her standing there, staring at him, seeing him. Her hair was dampened by the swirling steam in the bathroom, losing some of its natural volume. The caramel locks pressed against her neck and face. Her grass-green eyes were wide, glassy. Her small hands were pressed to her mouth in abject… he wasn’t sure what emotion lurked in her face. Disgust? Fear? Curiosity? Horror?

What did she see in the words in his skin?

She didn’t speak, just stared at him.

He felt his hands reach for a towel and wrap it around him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

She had seen it.

The horrible black tattoos that only those who had hurt him had ever seen.

He remembered only pain as a small child, being branded with the barcode. A woman protesting, screaming.

Then, as a teen, the tattoo artist with her tongue piercings leering at him. He had been naked and restrained to a long chaise lounge covered in vinyl, struggling against the leather cuffs that held his arms and legs. He heard his own voice, weak, begging, pleading.

Don’t. Please, don’t do this to me.

He had made a mistake.

After one particularly brutal and nasty session in the room with the lights and cameras, he had fought and shouted that one day he would escape that place. He would forget everything they had ever done to him. He would forget it all and become a different person.

Please, don’t.

So, Fei-Wang had given him tattoos so he would never, could never, forget.

Fei-Wang, with that monocle in his eye, had sat next to him while the tattooist bent over him with her needles. He had smiled, told her what to write, told her other things to do.
Syaoran remember her mouth, hot and slimy around the head of his penis. Her teeth had been biting into him, the metal in her tongue swirling around the head, the bead of a bar pushing into the slit. The pain had been white-hot, worse even than being taken from behind with no preparation. Her throat vibrated with the words Fei-Wang spoke, repeating.

My Syaoran: to be f*cked and abused.

She made him cum and then she had carved the words into his skin almost beautifully.

Then, Syaoran remember waiting, writhing in agony, while they waited for Fei-Wang’s next words.

These went into his lower back.

Already used, not worth being loved.

The tattooist had pushed something into his asshole. He couldn’t see because he was lying on his stomach, face pressed into a velvet pillow that stank of sex, but he knew it was bigger than anything he had ever taken in before. The pain had made him black out.

When he came too, he was lying on his back again.

The heart was a black smudge on his chest.

Then, murdered like a mongrel dog, worthless.

He remembered the tattooist as she smiled at him. Her teeth were yellow and cracked. She flashed her tongue piercings at him. Then, she lifted her skirt and slid her leg over his waist. Wetness trailed across his burning midsection and her fingers gripped him, squeezed him into arousal. Then, she rode him until her juices were all over his lower body. She stank, but she grinned at him, sashaying around the parlor in her nudity.

They left him like that: restrained and tattooed, covered in cum, slowly starving and dehydrating, until he agreed to participate in a gangb*ng.

From there on out, his life had become nothing but a swirl of sex and pain.

Now, Sakura had seen those tattoos.

She knew what he was: Fei-Wang’s worthless little f*ck-toy.

For some reason, though Syaoran had known he would never be loved by anyone, that thought struck a painful chord deep in his chest. Where had that foolish hope come from?
He raised his eyes and looked at Sakura.

She was kneeling in the middle of her floor, eyes closed, hands pressed over her mouth. Tears were still flowing down her cheeks.

Desperately, he prayed that she would open her eyes and smile at him. He hoped that she might not understand the meaning of the tattoos, but who was he kidding? The meaning was spelled out in his skin in plain English. He knew it was futile and he was bound to be destroyed by that prayer, but…

He waited, half-naked, with the heart exposed for her eyes and the words displayed for her mind on the bathroom floor.

Finally, after what felt like a long while, but was probably minutes since the steam still hung in the air, Sakura opened her eyes.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 30: Several People in a Loaded Deck

Chapter Text

I was tempted to keep this little snippet of Syaoran and Sakura to myself for another chapter, but I know if I didn’t give you something… No one would pay any attention to this chapter, which could be both good and bad.

Syaoran watched, nervous, but desperate, as Sakura’s green eyes opened and drifted down to him. Amber met jade with a crash and Syaoran had to look away. He closed his eyes and held his breath. He heard Sakura moving, but didn’t dare open his eyes to see what she was doing.

He felt her warmth on his naked chest, body-heat radiating like a flame.

She took a deep shuddering breath and then he felt her hand lightly touch his shoulder. Her skin was feather-soft and her touch was gentle. Then, her fingers cupped his face, sliding through some of his wet hair.

His eyes opened of their own accord.

Her face was close to his. He smelled coffee and cream.

Her eyes were staring into his, into his soul. He wondered what she was seeing.

She wet her lips, pink like candy, bit her lower one nervously, and then she whispered quietly.

“It’s not true…”

…

The warehouse was breached. They got them all.

You too?

No. I got out.

Just like that, Yui had signed his own sentence. He should have skipped town, pretended he had been captured and sent to prison with the rest of them.

He was tired of the Fantasy Ring. He was tired of chasing down Syaoran and Xing-Huo and Chi, the ones that got away, the ones that had made a new life from their pain. He figured they deserved it, deserved to be happy after all that they had been through.

He was sick of the brutal p*rnography. Sure, he was paid like a king, but it was blood money. Did he really want to save up and someday buy a beautiful woman a wedding band with money that had been made raping children or torturing teens?

Yui had wanted out for a long while.

That was why he arranged to be the one that made the swap: Chi for Sakura. Even before the swap had gotten out of hand, when the woman had been shot, when Xing-Huo and Fai were almost killed, Yui had planned on everything that had happened.

He was the one that had given Chi the location of the underground Fantasy Ring.

Fei-Wang thought it was an oversight on his part. That maybe she had been conscious when he was on the phone or had peeked at some mailing lists. She was a cop after all.
But that wasn’t the truth. Yui had planned hoped that with Syaoran and Sakura in Fei-Wang’s possession, the police department would pull out all the stops to save the kids. He had been right and it worked marvelously.

He just hadn’t planned on one thing: Fei-Wang Reed being out looking for new girls and handsome young men.

The master had not been captured with the others and now, Yui had sold himself back into the market again.

Cursing his own stupidity, Yui was tempted to toss his phone into the plaza fountain and forget it everything he knew. On many occasions, he had wanted to just go to the police and turn in what he knew, but he knew he would have been caught in his own web. He would have gone down with the Fantasy Ring.

That was why he had to use Chi and set the circ*mstances.

Now, he just had to find some way to trick Fei-Wang into the wrong place at the wrong time and let the cops accost him.

He thought he had the perfect plan and it may have worked perfectly, too, but something happened that no one had counted on. Humans were only so strong in the face of their desires. Fei-Wang was playing with a loaded deck and no one had expected his ace in the hole.

Kurogane.

…

Unknown to Fai, Yui was walking down the block outside the hospital. Snow was stinging in his face, forcing him to duck his head, but the lean long-legged build and fall of wheat-colored hair would have been easily recognized by anyone who was looking for it.

But, Fai wasn’t looking for it.

He was busy.

Fai was sitting in his office, wading through a drift of paperwork from a few nights prior, and glancing at his telephone every so often. In the back of his mind, he expected Fei-Wang Reed to call him and make another threat.

Many other missing persons had been released. Felons and sexual predators that had been dodging the police and flying under the radar had been apprehended. Yui hadn’t been freed in the breach of the underground facility. A few of the captured criminals, the ones that had spilled a little bit of information, remembered someone resembling Yui, but no one could speak for his whereabouts.

He assumed Fei-Wang would deal him a fresh hand of cards, of threats and promises, and soon.

But the evening wore on and his phone never rang.

Finally, Fai let his breath out in a saddened rush.

Maybe Yui was dead.

Maybe he had been for a while now.

So, Fai had to do all he could to help the living. The dead were beyond help.

…

Xing-Huo was happy to be back in her apartment, but she was not pleased to discover that it still smelled of roses. Grumbling darkly to herself, she stripped her bed and dumped the sheets into the washing machine. Then, she busily went through the apartment in search of the scent.

She found another ball of wilted petals behind the headboard and a vase of red thorn-less monsters on her bathroom vanity. It stood to reason how she had missed the gaudy fake crystal vase, but she did. She gathered them up in her arms, put on her coat, and bustled outside to pitch them into the dumpster.

She no longer feared being spotted and grabbed by any of Fei-Wang’s flunkies.

Xing-Huo smiled to herself. For a while, everything had gone so very wrong. Her brother and Sakura captured and their location unknown.

Then, a twist of fate.

Chi had known the location of Fei-Wang’s lair and within the hour, Syaoran and Sakura had been back in safe and loving arms. Even better, they were unharmed. Syaoran had been stripped down to his jeans and was shivering badly with cold and Sakura was dirty, but they were no worse for the wear than Chi had been.

A little coffee and a hot shower would bring them right around, Xing-Huo was sure.

Absently, she figured she could have given the roses to Sakura instead of throwing them out, but the flowers were already in the trash and she wasn’t about to go and pick them out.

Suddenly exhausted, though she had slept goo at Sakura’s the night before, Xing-Huo flopped down on her sofa and pretended to be interested in what was on television. She discovered that her now ex-boyfriend had ordered a few dirty channels to watch while she was working at the hospital and quickly denied access to them.

She knew she wouldn’t see her own face, having destroyed the p*rnography that she had starred in when she escaped as a child, but she knew seeing Syaoran or Chi’s beautiful innocent faces would curdle her stomach.

Tired of the world and its horrors, Xing-Huo watched half an action movie while her sheets were in the dryer, made the bed fresh, and then retired to her favorite and most wonderful realm. She slept like a baby, without dreams of memories or nightmares, for the first time in months.

It was all over.

…

Kurogane was sitting in his office, too, pouring through signed confessions and paperwork.

Most of the perpetrators had confessed.

Most of them didn’t have any choice.

Evidence was overwhelming.

Even the world’s best and nastiest lawyer wouldn’t be able to get them off the hook.

The hospital had been busy. SAE kits contained many assorted sem*n and vagin*l samples that matched the rapist to the raped. Blood, hair, and skin samples had been taken from under fingernails and from criminals. Those had also matched. Needless to say, between physical evidence and victim testimony, the cases ranging from assault to battery to severe and disgusting rape were open and shut.

Kurogane and the other officers hoped to have most of these idiots out of their holding cells, through court, and in jail within the month. The victims were in a hurry to get home to their families. Some had been missing and abused for more than a year.

Hideki hobbled slowly outside his office threshold. He was back, but confined to desk-work and slow-moving. He paused and leaned against the door to catch his breath.

“Kid, you should go home and get some more rest,” Kurogane barked.

Hideki smiled, but it was strained. “Does Chi know I’m here?”

“You’re supposed to still be in the hospital,” Kurogane grunted.

“I know, but I knew how much paperwork was going to coming pouring in and I was bored in the hospital.” He hesitated and then said quietly, “I think it would mean the world to Chi to have this all over and put behind her.”

Kurogane nodded. “All of us would like that.” He paused and then continued, “I told Fai that you were here. He said he’d pass the information on to Chi, but I’m not making any promises.”

Hideki asked, “Do you mind if I call her?”

Kurogane waved his big hand. “Just be quick about it,” he growled.

“Thanks,” Hideki said and shambled slowly off.

Kurogane looked at the file he had lying open on his desk.

It was Syaoran’s.

Thick layers of white-out had been smeared over the section for distinguishing features on his body. Kurogane knew that Chi had done it for the kid, to hide the disgusting tattoos. For years, Fai had tried to convince Syaoran just to have them removed, but the kid was adamant. No one was ever to see the tattoos or know what they were of.
Kurogane himself had never seen them.

Neither had Fai.

Sighing, Kurogane let the file fold shut.

Maybe now that could all be put behind him. With Fei-Wang’s Fantasy Ring destroyed and its perpetrators behind bars, maybe everyone who had been brutally touched by that man could begin to heal a little. He hoped for that in his heart of hearts.

There was some commotion in the station.

Yukito was probably making another harebrained escape attempt as he did every day. His rage and dedication to Fei-Wang was tangible and sickening.

Kurogane was ready to put him in a padded cell.

He got up and went to see what all the trouble was about.

He came upon the sight of Chi with her arms around Hideki’s neck, hugging him so tightly that he was turning blue. The kid had toppled into another officer whose face was obscured by a fall of Chi’s platinum hair. The commotion was happiness. Everyone was smiling and laughing.

Kurogane smiled to himself.

That was good. They all needed a little more of that in their lives.

…

Of all the reactions Syaoran had expected and feared that was not one of them.

“It’s not true, Syaoran…” Sakura whispered again, further driving the point home. “It’s not true…”

He brought his hand up and laid it over hers where she was gently cupping the curve of his jaw.

Her eyes held his, refused to stray. There was nothing but heartbreaking honesty and terrible sadness in those jade depths. She was sad for him, not pitying, but hurt as if his pain was her own. Beneath that honesty and pain, was a spark of anger. Oh, she hated the man that could have done something so horrible to him, to anyone.

The violation and torture he had suffered was bad enough, but a tattoo that branded him as nothing was far worse.

“Do you believe what that says?”

Syaoran pulled his eyes from hers, ashamed, and nodded once.

He heard her sharp intake of breath.

There were tears in her voice when she spoke. “Why?”

The towel was limp and damp lying across his lap, but he let it slide from his gripping fingertips. Then, he brought his hand between their faces to catch her eye and brought it down to the span of wretched words across his hips.

To be f*cked and abused…

Then, he touched the heart on his chest.

Then, murdered like a mongrel dog, worthless.

His fingers lingered especially long on the word worthless.

Sakura caught his hand and held it tightly. “Please, don’t believe that anymore,” she whispered.

Syaoran started to shake his head, but her voice cut through him.

“I know what I say doesn’t mean much to you, but you have to believe me. It’s not true,” she sobbed.

Syaoran glanced up at her and caught her eyes. Tears ran down her face, but she didn’t look away from his unsure gaze. Then, he gently pulled his hand from hers and laid it palm up in her lap. The tip of his finger dripped water into her palm as he wrote to her.

Let me get dressed, not comfortable like this. Then, can we talk?

As he drew the end of his lengthening question mark, he looked back up at her face.

She wore no make-up. Her cheeks were clean and her eyes were red-rimmed. Somehow, she was even more beautiful to him.

She had seen the tattoos, unprepared and suddenly, and she had not turned away. Once, only once, he had shown the horrible brands to a woman he thought himself to be in love with and she had scorned him like he was a leper. Sakura, though, was still here. She would still touch him, even tried to comfort him. She was telling him that it wasn’t true. He wanted, so badly, to believe her…

So badly…

“Of course,” Sakura whispered and gently brushed some dark strands of hair out of his eyes. He flinched slightly, an ingrained reaction in his body. She sniffled and smiled so sadly, but there was another emotion in the gentle beautiful curve of her lips. “We can talk…”

Syaoran felt his mouth move, but no sound escaped him. His throat ached from the attempted use, like he was swallowing sandpaper. But to see Sakura’ face light up with happiness to see him trying to speak was worth the pain. He tried again, harder and managed to quietly croak, “Thank… you…”

He couldn’t say anything more, but he wanted to.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Does anyone want me to go into detail about what happened to Syaoran? The whole gory violent graphic mess? Or are the little snippets and pertinent memories good?

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 31: Communication: Paper to Voice

Chapter Text

This story is so popular. It seems to have its own little following. That’s so awesome!

I love you all!

Sakura fidgeted on the sofa.

Part of her was frightened that Syaoran would never come out of the bathroom, part of her didn’t want to face the horrors locked inside him, part of her was that selfish, part of her was so happy to see him trying to speak, part of her wanted him to unload some of his pain… She felt divided up into so many little pieces, like the many facets of a jewel, each feeling something else, something different. There were fractions and fractions of Sakura, bits and pieces, millions of little shards, falling apart like the petals of a flower and blowing away.

She fisted her hands in her skirt and tried to get a hold of herself.

This wasn’t about her.

This was about him.

She took a deep breath and leaned back into the cushions. She felt as if the sofa could swallow her up. She felt small and powerless in the face of Fei-Wang Reed’s great cruelties.
Sakura wet her lips and nervously worried her teeth on her lower one. She started to taste blood and stopped.

At that moment, the bathroom door swung inward and Syaoran stepped out.

His jeans hung on his skinny frame, held up by a braided leather belt. His bare toes poked out beneath the worn hems. The t-shirt was dark and clung damply to his shoulders. He looked like a child wearing his father’s clothes, wearing his father’s responsibility, wearing so many things that he shouldn’t have. He had taped pads of gauze neatly over the wounds in his throat and applied a few Band-Aids to the worst of the scratches and rubs on his wrists.

His hair was uncombed, hanging like wisps of fine chocolate in his face. His striking amber eyes had a little bit of fragile light way back in them. He offered her a weak and weary smile.

Sakura knew then that if she went about this the wrong way, she could destroy him. She would have to watch all the implications and hidden meanings in her words.

She smiled back at him.

He sat down on the couch beside her and his weight was so slight that the cushions barely dipped. Then, he reached for the pad of yellow lined paper on the coffee table. For a moment, he searched his pockets for a pen and finally produced one. To preserve paper, he poised the pen beneath his earlier scrawled sacrifice:

Protect you. Give him me.

He gazed at Sakura for a moment and then wrote a simple single character:

?

Sakura felt her throat grow tight and her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

Syaoran’s face didn’t change. He put the pen to the paper again and wrote, What do you want to know?

Sakura wet her lips. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but she wondered exactly what ground was safe to tread. Finally, holding his eyes while she spoke, she asked, “What are your dreams?”

Syaoran was taken aback. He had expected the questions he had heard before: what did they do to you? how long? why? And the very worst: did you like it? He studied her face and then the paper. His fingers were trembling where they clutched the pen.

Nightmares, he wrote.

Sakura hesitantly touched his wrist. The bones were sharp and fragile under her fingers. She shook her head once he looked at her. “No,” she murmured. “I mean, what do you wish for in life? Those dreams?”

Syaoran blinked and then looked at Sakura’s pale fingers on his arm. Carefully, he wrote, Just someone to be kind to me…

A sob welled up in Sakura’s throat and she struggled to swallow it. She wanted so much to just wrap her arms around him, pour all her tenderness and love into him. God knew he needed it, but she wasn’t sure how he would take to her arms around him.

Syaoran hesitated and then wrote in a nervous and scraggly hand. Maybe, someone to see past all this and, he stopped as if gathering courage before continuing, maybe love me…

“Oh,” Sakura whispered. Her fingers twitched with want to hold and comfort him. “Syaoran, could I just…?”

She trailed off as his head swiveled. He looked at her.

His eyes were very soft, very vulnerable. He wet his lips and she watched his throat working furiously. Finally, he croaked, “Yes…”

She could tell if it was a question or a statement or a plea, but she wanted to offer him some comfort. Holding her breath, she brought one arm up around his narrow shoulders. His back tensed, but he made no move to pull away. She slipped her other arm under his, elbow brushing the pen and paper from his lap.

They hissed when they hit the floor. The papers fluttered like a trapped bird. The pen rolled as if trying to escape.

She held his eyes as she snaked her hand around his waist. His shoulders jerked, but he didn’t try to stop her. She coiled her arms around him and slowly drew closer to him. His body was warm and hard with bone and muscle against her soft curves. He smelled wonderful as she tucked her chin into the curve of his shoulder.

Then, she let out the breath she had been holding and let her eyes slide closed.

Syaoran’s arms, limp at his sides, trembled. He touched her waist, pulled back, and she felt the muscles in his arms straining. Yet, he did not pull away.

Her touch was strange and warm. Physical contact without a shred of pain. It was unheard of in his mind and his chest was tight with the scent of her.

Syaoran hesitantly rested the flat of his palm on the small of her back like her hand was on his. Tension melted from her. She sighed and relaxed against him. His shoulder was pressed deeply into the couch cushions.

“Wh-what is this?” He croaked.

Sakura rubbed her hand up and down his back. He relaxed a little, almost against his will.

“A hug,” she murmured.

He felt the thrum of her voice in his own chest.

“Do you like it…?” She whispered.

His throat hurt. He felt as if he had been eating sand so he could only nod. After a moment, when the ache had subsided, he spoke in a soft voice. “It feels… nice…”

Sakura’s heart did an unpleasant little somersault in her chest. “I’m glad,” she murmured.

Syaoran dipped his face into her hair. The strands tickled his cheeks and lips and wrapped him in the scent of blossoms. Then, emboldened, he enveloped her in his arms and pulled her gently against his body. She was soft and warm, light and gossamer, like a dream of something wonderful.

“Syaoran?” she said after a long while had passed between them.

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse and weak, tenuous, and he trembled a little as he spoke. He must not have been used to hearing himself yet.

Sakura swallowed. “How long has it been since you last spoke?”

His fingers dug into her back and she winced. Instantly, his grip slackened. He tensed as if to push her away, but relaxed back into her embrace. He breathed deeply before she felt his voice rumbling deep in his chest like a lost wave.

“A long time,” he whispered.

She bit her lip, wondering how hard she should push on this wound. It clearly hurt him, but things were often better aired out in the open. “Why? Why did you stop speaking?”

Syaoran tensed. The muscles in his back rippled under her hands.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Are you going to,” he hesitated, “run away, if I tell you…?”

Sakura shook her head. “Why would you think something like that?”

His breath rattled in his lungs. “Because… it was my entire fault…”

Sakura closed her eyes. A stab of pain ran through her chest, hung inside her heart like an icicle, and didn’t fade. “Syaoran, I know how you feel, but… if horrible things happen to you… it’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for any of that,” she told him quietly.

He shook his head weakly. She felt his throat working, but no sound came out.

Sakura tightened her arms around him and slipped her hand up to the base of his skull. She worked her able fingers against the knot of tension coiled there like a snake until his voice choked its way out his throat. Syaoran heaved a deep breath into his rattling chest before speaking.

“I’m afraid,” he whispered.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Sakura whispered.

She could feel his heart pounding in his chest against hers.

Syaoran curved his shoulders in around them. “You don’t understand,” he murmured. “I told… someone I thought loved me… I told her everything and she…” His voice cracked and locked up in his chest. Desperate with fear of the need for understanding, Syaoran pulled back from Sakura’s arms and snatched the pad of paper up off the floor. He was trembling to badly to stand and get the pen where it had rolled across the room.

Sakura handed it to him.

His hands shook as he wrote. She betrayed me, he scrawled shakily. He paused, looked at Sakura, back to the paper, and then began writing again. She gave me back. Fei-Wang he crossed that out, wrote my father and crossed that out too. Desperately, he carved, That man had a bounty out for me. He wanted me for, Syaoran hesitated, a bondage film. He wanted the tattoos in his film.

Sakura bit her lip.

Syaoran appeared not to notice. He was scribbling frantically now, making great leaps throughout the sheet.

I didn’t know that she had one foot in the underground. Once she knew who I was and how much I was worth, she gave me up to that man. He used me… Syaoran stopped and looked at her. Tears were welled up in his eyes, red-rimmed and sparkling amber.

“Is it alright that I tell you this?” He whispered.

Sakura nodded and gently touched his arm. “Tell me anything you need to,” she murmured.

He shied from the touch. “Will you… hurt me…?” Instantly, he felt a stab of self-loathing shoot through his skull, burying itself behind his eyes. She already knew who he was and how much he was worth to Fei-Wang, but she hadn’t done anything to hurt him. What warranted his sudden mistrust in her just because he had been hurt before?

An apology burned on his tongue, but Sakura’s fingers applied slight pressure to his wrist. The touch drew his eyes to hers.

She shook her head. “Never,” she said and there was such honesty and righteous fury in her eyes that he knew she was telling the truth.

He took a deep shuddering breath and adjusted the pad of paper across his knees. Then, with unbreakable resolve, he began to write. Sakura’s breath was light on the exposed skin of his forearm. The minute hairs rose at the sensation, prickling all up his arm.

She’s really beautiful, Syaoran began. She has long strawberry blonde hair and very dark eyes. She was always very lewd, comfortable with being naked in any situation. I thought maybe it was just because I was afraid that she seemed that way. I thought I loved her…

Syaoran glanced at Sakura from the corner of his eye. She was watching his hand as it wrote neatly. Her eyes were soft, nonjudgmental, and a few tears were welling up in the corners. He bit his lower lip and resumed writing.

I showed her the tattoos, told her how afraid I was, how I hated to think of what people would say if they knew about the things that happened to me. After she knew who I was and how much money she could get for me, she gave me to him. She just asked me to go on a little walk with her, to close my eyes, and then… I was back in his hands.

Syaoran sniffed.

Sakura touched his back lightly and said plainly, “She was a skan*.”

His shoulders jerked under her hands. He turned to look at her, but her jade-green eyes were dark with seriousness. His lips curved into a faint and timid smile.

“I guess so,” he whispered. “Her name was Cassandra.”

He went back to the paper. She’s a prostitute and a star for my fath-that man now.

“You still think of him as your father, even after everything…?” Sakura asked.

Well, he is. No matter what he did to me, had done to me, he will always be the man that fathered me.

Sakura hesitated. “What about your mother?”

Syaoran rolled his shoulders in a half-shrug. She was dead by the time I was old enough to remember her. He looked over at Sakura with curiosity in his amber eyes.

“Both my parents were killed in an automobile accident almost six years ago, when I was still in high school,” Sakura said. She didn’t realize that she was crying until Syaoran gently touched her cheeks and drew away several sparkling wet diamonds.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Sakura shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” she said. “They had been drinking, on their way home from a business meeting, and they just… ran off the road.” She made a gesture with her hand. “They went off the side of a mountain road, right down the cliff. They died on impact. My school councilor told me the next day.” She sniffled, but met his eyes.

“You miss them,” he whispered.

She nodded and then shook her head. “Only sometimes, we were never very close,” she told him. “I know it’s rotten of me…”

Syaoran didn’t try to touch her. He couldn’t.

Sakura didn’t require any prompting. She had been alone a long time and her whole story just came tumbling out, end over end.

“They were up to their eyes in debt and the house was repossessed. I jumped from couch to couch at friend’s houses for a month or so, just until high school finished. Then,” she glanced at Syaoran, “I met Charles.” A tear rolled down her cheek. She found Syaoran’s hand and stroked the back of it tenderly. “I thought he loved me, too,” she whispered.

The urge to comfort her was stifling, but he could bring himself to feel her skin beneath his fingertips.

“He didn’t. He drank and smoked a lot and when something went wrong, he’d hit me. I used to think I was doing something wrong, something bad,” she confessed. “He broke a bottle on my face, cut me, and locked me in the bathroom for days. Finally, I told someone and they urge me to throw him out. I just couldn’t. I read this book all the time after he beat me: Living with Pain. It told me the same things. That it wasn’t my fault, that I needed to get rid of him.” She sniffled.

“Finally, I did,” she murmured. “He called me back, apologizing, crying, and I wanted so badly to take him back. I did and he beat me to a bloody pulp. That was when I met Dr. Fai. He helped me get rid of Charles once and for all.”

“Fai is a good man,” Syaoran said quietly. “There aren’t a lot of men like him in the world.”

Sakura sniffed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I know. I was very lucky to fall into him. Charles may have killed me otherwise.”

Plucking up his courage, Syaoran cupped her face between his palms and raised her chin so that their eyes met. “Anyone that hurts you, is not worth your love,” he whispered. His words were so heavy that it made her hold her breath.

Their faces were so close. She could feel his breath on her lips. Strands of her pale caramel hair tickled his cheeks.

Abruptly, he released her and pulled away.

“Syaoran.” Her voice was breathy and sounded needier that she had expected, almost desperate.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You deserve better…” His voice broke on the last words he meant o speak, choking them off. Then, he stood up and paced quickly to the window. He stood there for a long time, looking out.

Sakura remained sitting on the couch, staring at her hands where they were folded neatly and trembling in her lap.

She wondered when the world had gotten so messed up or if it had always been that way.

Outside, a winter storm was brewing like a witch’s bubbling cauldron. The sky boiled with a thick grey blanket of clouds and a cold wind blew in from the coast, carrying with it the first flakes of snow. Sakura always liked to watch for the instant those first flakes came fluttering down. The wind howled through the eaves of her grey-green apartment building and shook the pane in the window as if something was trying to get in.

There was a knock at the door.

Sakura answered and let in the nice young police officer who was here to protect them in Kurogane’s place. Sakura fixed him a cup of strong coffee and sipped half a cup herself. Syaoran continued to moodily linger at the window. He appeared to be arranging his face into a calm and firm mask of features.

Finally, he wrote that he was tired and went to lie down in her bed.

For some reason, Sakura was grateful for that.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 32: Assault: Merry Christmas!

Chapter Text

Alright: time for a time skip!

One month later, December 22, 3:27 am…

Sakura clambered down the slick steps of the bus, holding the handrail to prevent her from landing unceremoniously on her butt. It was cold, but the chill no longer blew through her. As a thank-you and Christmas gift, Syaoran had given her a beautiful and heavy full length wool coat lined with sheep’s skin. The next ice age could come and she wouldn’t feel it through this coat, even with her scant night-shift uniform underneath it. She still elected against pale pantyhose, but the short skirt and form-fitting white blouse couldn’t be gone without. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head as the bus pulled away.

It had been a more than a month since Syaoran had been a terrified wraith under her care in the hospital. All the disgusting, terrifying events that followed were distant nightmares.

Fei-Wang Reed’s Fantasy Ring had been broken, all his criminals put behind bars, and all his prostitutes freed.

For a week, Syaoran had remained in Sakura’s apartment with her under close police protection. Then, three weeks ago, he had gone home with Fai and Kurogane and remained under the police chief’s watchful eye. Chi had moved in with Hideki. They were protecting each other. Then, a few days after Syaoran left, Sakura had started going to work again. It was good to be up and moving around again. She had missed all the commotion and surrealism of the night-shift. Fei-Wang had never been apprehended, but the police assumed he had skipped town and fled the country. Almost a week ago, Sakura had bid farewell to her own police bodyguard.

It had been a long and nerve wracking time, but that was all behind her now.

Xing-Huo had also become one of Sakura’s dear friends. She still worked the day-shift, but often called Sakura and Syaoran and Chi just to see how they were all doing. She was a wonderful and warm-hearted young woman.

She went out to dinner with Syaoran, Fai, Kurogane, Chi, and Hideki once a week to their favorite little café, The Cat’s Eye. Sometimes, they went just for desert. She and Syaoran talked every other day. Each time she spoke to him, his voice was a little stronger and, when she saw him, his smile a little brighter. Sometimes, Syaoran called her in the middle of the day (their night, both choosing to take night-shift hours though Syaoran didn’t work at the hospital) to tell her about a nightmare. She assuaged his fears easily and he hers.
She liked to think that they were becoming very close.

Maybe…

Sakura wouldn’t readily admit that she had fallen in love with him and she wasn’t exactly sure when her heart had wrapped so solidly around him, but Xing-Huo pointed out the signs and had yet to allow Sakura to live it down.

Sakura was smiled broadly at the thought of Christmas on the very near horizon. She would be spending it over at Fai and Kurogane’s. Chi and Hideki would also be coming along with Xing-Huo. They would all spend the night and open presents the next morning. Fai was already preparing an extravagant feast and Kurogane assisted with much grumbling. Sakura wondered what Syaoran had gotten her. He had been smiling a little mischievously all week. Xing-Huo, on the other hand, would assuredly be presenting Sakura with a bag of translucent lingerie.

Sakura’s grey-green apartment building loomed in sight. Its lobby was filled with warm yellow light and the twinkle-flash of Christmas icicle lights along the overhang. Inside, a large fake tree had been set up and decorated. The star was hanging off to one side, sharing the top with an angel. Looking up and squinting, Sakura could see her own little tree through her parted curtains. The candied lights twinkled merrily.

Blowing on her hands, Sakura skipped along. Jingle Bells rang in her head and she mumbled the words cheerfully under her breath. She couldn’t have been happier.

Then, she passed in front of the third alley, and someone grabbed her.

...

Syaoran was sitting at the window in his bedroom, listening to Fai and Kurogane bickering in the other room. Sakura would be getting home about now.

He could just see her: wrapped in the beautiful heavy winter coat he had bought for her once he had seen her ratty thrift-store number, her caramel hair all hung with snow, her jade-green eyes sparkling in the candied lights, her glowing smile. She was a very precious girl to him.

His gift for her was wrapped neatly and placed in a box in the bottom of his closet with the rest of the gifts he had gotten for his family. Chi had helped him pick it out with her soft hands and pale smile. He was very proud and looking forward to giving it to her.

The phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Fai shouted and there was a mess of giggling.

Syaoran smiled.

He loved both his parents: Kurogane and Fai, regardless of their sexual preference. They loved everyone and each other very deeply which was a wonderful and scarce thing. Syaoran glanced over at the big family photograph he had on the nightstand next to his bed. Sakura and Chi and Hideki and Xing-Huo and Fai and Kurogane and himself, all smiling, all happy. It had been taken little under a week ago, as soon as he and Hideki were fully healed. He smiled at the memory of the trouble they had gone through to get the photo taken. The squabbling still rung in his ears, but he wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Suddenly, there was a terrible crash in the kitchen. The sound of something shattering reverberated through the house.

A cold chill ran down his spine, like the finger of a violator.

Syaoran bolted to his feet and dashed into the kitchen.

Fai was in a heap on the floor. His legs were folded beneath him. His face was pale. His blue eyes were red-rimmed and staring at nothing somewhere at the floor in front of him. He had his hands fisted in his blonde hair, pulling hard. The Santa hat he had been jubilantly wearing was gone.

Kurogane was in a similar state. He was leaning on the counter, staring at the turkey Fai had been happily stuffing. His arms trembled and his eyes blazed with fear, regret, sorrow, and anger. There was blood seeping between his clenched fingers.

The remains of a shattered glass bowl filled with stuffing was scattered on the floor around them.

The phone lay in the center of that mess.

“No, no, no…” he could hear Fai whispering.

Oh, God, please, no, his own mind echoed.

With shaking hands, Syaoran lifted it and pressed it to his ear.

Someone was breathing heavily, sobbing, and whimpering across the connection.

“Hello?” he whispered. His voice came out much stronger than he felt.

“S-Syaoran…” In an instant, he recognized Sakura’s voice. Then, something slapped against skin with a crack and she let out a whimper of agony. “Please, stop…” she sobbed. “Please, don’t do this…” Many quick cracks and cries followed in succession. She screamed for him.

“Sakura!”

Then, her voice was gone and so was the sound of something striking her vulnerable body.

Syaoran clenched the phone so tightly in his fist that he thought it would break.

“Hello, Syaoran.” The voice was cool and calculated. Fei-Wang’s voice, Syaoran would know it anywhere.

“What do you want with her?!” Syaoran demanded.

“The same thing I’ve always wanted, my dear boy. I don’t want her. I want you,” Fei-Wang said cheerfully. Then, Syaoran felt the cold of his smirk across the connection. “Merry Christmas, my Syaoran.” Then, Fei-Wang hung up.

Syaoran hurled the phone across the room and then collapsed to his knees next to Fai. He looked up at Kurogane helplessly, but the chief had nothing to offer him. Syaoran was so desperate, he didn’t even feel the shards of broken glass digging into his knees through his jeans.

“I’m going to get her back…”

“I know, kid, I know,” Kurogane whispered.

Fei-Wang’s words rang through Syaoran’s head over and over like a skipping record.

Merry Christmas, my Syaoran… Merry Christmas…

I figure, forty, maybe fifty chapters depending on how involved and side-tracked I get before this story is finished.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 33: The Color Red: Assault

Chapter Text

Pretty scary chapter because I’m going to touch on what Sakura is going through right now with Fei-Wang.

Merry Christmas, my Syaoran… Merry Christmas…

Xing-Huo screamed up the driveway mere minutes after Syaoran’s shaking hands had dialed her apartment. Roused from sleep, she was a little groggy while Syaoran forced out that Sakura had been taken. Then, she was instantly wide awake. She promised to call Chi and Hideki and then be at the house in less than twenty minutes.

It had been eleven.

Xing-Huo barreled through the door without knocking, bringing a gust of icy winter air in after her. It felt much colder than it should have and a few early flakes swirled through the howling breeze. Outside, the red and blue flashing lights of a police cruiser winked up the block as Chi and Hideki speeded after her.

Fai was on the couch, head between his knees. His wheat-colored hair was a waterfall down over his face. His hands were pale, tendons and muscles standing out with stress, through his hair. He was muttering to himself in long gasping strains, “No, no, no, no…”

Kurogane lingered in the kitchen, putting the remaining stuffing and turkey away in the fridge almost subconsciously. His crimson eyes were distant, glazed over, but there was a far-off flame of rage burning in them. He was angry and in a few minutes, he would have a plan.

Syaoran was in his room, standing in front of the mirror Fai had hung on the inside of his closet door. He had stripped down to a simple white wife beater and his jeans. His frame was less skeleton-thin, stronger, though still slender and pale. He felt the tattoos on his body burning in his skin, searing through his clothes. He always felt them, festering like a sore on his body. Only Sakura could soothe the disgust he had with the marks, with his own skin.

Now, she was gone!

Fei-Wang had taken her!

Syaoran slammed his fist into the glass. It shattered, shards and pieces skipping everywhere like shooting stars. His reflection fell apart, breaking the same way his heart was. A cry welled up in his throat. The skin on his knuckles split open and bled. Crimson mingled with quicksilver.

“Sakura, just hold on,” he whispered.

Xing-Huo’s footsteps were heavy and hurried in the hallway, rushing to see what he had done.

“I’ll get you back, I promise. I’ll die before I let him hurt you the same way he hurt me,” he whispered.

“Syaoran!” She grabbed his shoulders, dragged him backwards from the ruins of the mirror. Glass crunched under her feet. “Syaoran!”

He looked up at her, amber eyes beautiful and glowing and red-rimmed with horror.

“Don’t worry,” Xing-Huo whispered. “We’ll get her back. We’ll get her back from him.” She looked at the blood and glass all over the floor, felt Syaoran’s back stone-hard and tense against her chest, and smelled the runs of Christmas dinner in the other room. Tears burned her eyes and something clenched around her heart. Would Fei-Wang ever stop hurting them? Would this family ever find peace? She wrapped her arms around Syaoran from behind and buried her face in his hair.

When the first sob shook her, Syaoran already had her slender body wrapped in his arms. Strength rippled through his frame.

This time, it was going to be over.

Either he or Fei-Wang would be dead.

He knew in his heart that that was the only way to stop it…

One of them would have to die.

…

Fei-Wang couldn’t help but laugh to himself and then grumble just a little. His empire had fallen considerably. The only ones he still had under his hand were Cassandra, his favorite whor* and Syaoran’s old girlfriend, and Yui, Fai’s twin brother though Fei-Wang kept the familial resemblance a secret. He would lose Yui if the young man learned he had a loving family out there in the world. Lately, he found his control on Yui to be slipping. Thankfully, Cassandra was easily bought and was looking forward to f*cking Syaoran again.

Everyone else had been taken and put behind bars, even his Yukito had been unable to escape the prison.

Fei-Wang took out his flask and took a sip. It was almost empty. How sad.

He glanced up at the little room he had control over. The house was out in the middle of the woods, a secret hidey-hole. No one could hear Sakura screaming now and no one would hear Syaoran screaming later. It smelled a little funny, like mildew and earthen air, but that didn’t matter. It was quiet and it was secure.

The heater grumbled to life in the bowels of the house and a rush of warm air came down from the ceiling. Fei-Wang smiled when Sakura turned her face into the stream of warm air. He was going to torture and probably kill Sakura and then Syaoran, but he wasn’t a monster. They would be naked and he wasn’t about to freeze them to death.

Sakura was restrained in the middle of the room, just in front of the big four-poster bed. Her arms were stretched above her head, keeping her up on the balls of her feet. That alone was torture, to say nothing of the hot and raw marks on her breasts and ass. The whip was discarded at the foot of the bed.

Fei-Wang had to give Syaoran credit. She was a beautiful young woman.

She had short soft pale caramel-colored tresses that framed her face in wisps. Her cheek bones were high and pronounced. Her nose was straight and well-shaped. She had petal-pink full lips and a dainty mouth. Most striking were her jade-green eyes, almond-shaped and wide-set, but so innocent and honest. She had beautiful eyes. Fei-Wang hoped to have her as blind as Syaoran before he killed her, blinded by her own protective consciousness.

Her body was long-limbed and shapely. She had wonderful hands, long-fingered with round short nails. She had nice full round breasts and rosy nipples of the perfect size. Her stomach was flat and her pelvis was softly muscled. Her hips jut a little too far from her body because she was a little too skinny, like Syaoran was, but not unattractively so. Her legs were long and pleasing, coltish, and the skin in the apex of her thighs was translucent and pale. Her butt was pert and tight.

Her skin was honey-colored and satin-soft. Fei-Wang had enjoyed seeing it split and redden under the assault of the whip.

He sipped from his flask and then emptied it.

Sakura moaned quietly and shifted. She murmured Syaoran’s name. Maybe she had fallen asleep.

Fei-Wang thought of seeing her impale herself on the fake purple co*ck back in his ring. The juices she produced watching Touya and Yukito f*ck each other, how long she had resisted the siren call to sit down and stop the pain in her legs. The beautiful shining flush of her slit through the camera lens. Then, how she struggled not to respond to Touya’s pleasuring mouth.

Fei-Wang’s dick twitched in his trousers, pushing up against the restraining fabric. Maybe, before this was all over, he would be able to f*ck both Sakura and Syaoran. He thought of Syaoran’s beautiful muscular frame and sweet skin, his thick chocolate hair and those glow-in-the-dark amber eyes. Then, he thought of Sakura’s pert little ass and her petal-pink lips, her caramel tresses and jade-colored eyes. He thought of forcing Syaoran inside her fragile little puss* while Yui slammed her ass and then pushing his own dick up into Syaoran.

He thought of Cassandra.

He decided that while Yui and Syaoran f*cked Sakura in both her tight little holes, and while he f*cked Syaoran’s ass, Cassandra could put her puss* in Sakura’s mouth and kiss Syaoran’s lips. He wondered if she would think to slip her fingers into Sakura’s slit with Syaoran’s co*ck or if she would fondle her breasts or slide her fingers into her asshole. The girl often took the initiative.

Pleased with himself, Fei-Wang decided that he would have Cassandra smother Sakura with her puss* so that Syaoran was inside the girl he loved when she died. Fei-Wang knew that would break his son and he looked forward to it.

…

Cassandra was lying on the bed, naked, watching the play of emotions on Fei-Wang’s face around the curve and swell of Sakura’s breasts. She was also looking forward to having sex with Syaoran again and Sakura’s obvious virginity would be a pleasure to tear away.

“Fei-Wang,” she called.

His eyes snapped to her and his lips curved into a smile. He waved his hand at her.

Smiling to herself, Cassandra got up and strolled over to Sakura. The girl had fallen asleep. Her face was smooth and beautiful. Cassandra pinched one of Sakura’s nipples hard between her fingers and gave it a little twist.

Sakura’s mouth twisted and she gave a little yelp, but her eyes remained squeezed shut.

“Look at me or I’ll stuff your c*nt,” Cassandra snapped. Her flint-black eyes narrowed.

Sakura hesitantly opened her eyes. Cassandra’s face was inches from her own, strawberry hair hanging down over her heavy breasts, and black eyes mean. She looked like a snake, a beautiful and deadly heat-seeking viper.

“Have a nice nap?” Cassandra asked.

Sakura swallowed and wet her lips.

“Answer me,” she snapped.

“Yes,” Sakura murmured.

“Did you dream?”

“Yes,” Sakura whispered.

“Oh?”

“Of Syaoran,” she said and quickly looked away.

Cassandra smiled meanly. “Yeah, I dream about him, too, sometimes,” she said and paced around Sakura in a circle. “What did you dream about?”

“He came for me,” Sakura whispered. “Took me away from here.”

“That’s boring,” Cassandra growled and slapped Sakura lightly on the ass. The girl winced. “Sometimes, I dream that I grew a dick and f*cked him in the ass. Or I dream that I took him so deeply into my mouth that I could feel him in my womb. Once, I dreamed he took Yukito’s flexible co*ck staff and slammed it up my ass.” Cassandra licked her lips and fondled her nipples. “It’s so long and flexible and Syaoran’s so strong that he pushed it all the way through my intestines. The co*ck came right out my mouth. Then, he kissed me and I could feel him sucking on the co*ck through my mouth.” She paused and moaned.

Sakura was flinching, looking away.

Fei-Wang grinned.

“Then,” Cassandra continued, “he put another big co*ck inside me. Ooh, he filled my womb to the brim. I felt his cum in my stomach. It was like eating too much whipped cream.” She cracked one black eye open and glanced at Sakura. The girl looked positively sickened. “Wouldn’t you like to feel him do that to you, Sa-ku-ra?”

Sakura shook her head. “You’re sick,” she whispered.

Cassandra only laughed. “I know, but boy do I like it,” she crooned. Then, she put her face very close to Sakura’s and the scent of sex was heavy on her breath. “You’ll like it, too,” she whispered. Then, she kissed Sakura, pushing her tongue through Sakura’s protesting lips. She explored the girl’s moist cavern, tasting the sweetness and purity of someone who hadn’t even kissed Syaoran. The girl really was too kind. Cassandra fisted her hands in Sakura’s soft hair, pulling their mouths forcefully together and continued dominating the girl’s tongue.

Sakura whimpered and weakly tried to pull away.

Fei-Wang clapped his hands and Cassandra pulled back.

Sakura’s lips were swollen from the forced of the kiss, her eyes half-shut.

Smiling, Cassandra flicked her nipples and sashayed over to Fei-Wang. He was grinning and he slowly tucked his monocle into his pocket. Cassandra knew what that meant and she felt blood and moisture rush to her nether region. He held out his hand, fingers curled up like the legs of a dead spider.

Cassandra drew her hair back from her breasts and tossed it over her naked shoulders to fully display her luscious body. Then, she lifted her leg and mounted Fei-Wang’s lap. His hand rose to meet her hairless slit between her legs and cupped her. Gripping his shoulders, Cassandra leaned her head back and moaned loud enough for Sakura to hear and they weren’t even getting started. She felt his hand twist and let her flint-black eyes slide closed.

Fei-Wang trailed a finger through her moisture. His co*ck twitched with the thought that maybe Syaoran’s fingers had once been in her c*nt, maybe they had slept together. He doubted it because Syaoran was so scared of physical contact and Cassandra would have told him about it once he bought his son from her, but there was no harm in fantasizing.
Cassandra rocked her hips and moisture dripped into Fei-Wang’s cupped palm. He drew his hand away from her and lined up his fingers the way he wanted them. Then, with no preparation, he shoved a finger into her snatch and two into her ass. He made a harsh scissoring motion, stretching the ring of puckered flesh and clawed at her inner walls.

She moaned in his ear and rolled her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

She really was such a whor*.

He pulled out of her ass and used his other hand to cup her buttocks. She moaned and twisted, trying to get him back where she needed him. He shushed her moans and then slid four fingers, two from each hand, into her c*nt.

…

Yui was just entering the room. Fei-Wang tipped his chin at the young man. Yui’s eyes narrowed, but he gathered Yukito’s staff where it was leaning against the wall. The co*ck was big and thick, longer and fatter than other toys in the ring, and the balls swung freely, slap-slapping against the staff.

Fei-Wang pulled Cassandra soft meat apart, stretching her to her limits. She whimpered and moaned.

Then, Yui lined the head of the co*ck-staff up with her spread open slit and rammed it up into her.

Her moans turned into a scream. Fei-Wang released her walls with a snap and waved to Yui. The young man kept shoving the dick deeper and deeper into Cassandra, forcing her to take the entire length of the co*ck. Soon, her howl of pain turned to moans of pleasure. She had started climbing over the arm of Fei-Wang’s chair in an attempt to escape Yui’s pressure. Now, the pole of the shaft was beneath her, impaling the length of the enormous dick into her, and her chest was pressed against the smooth expanse of the wall.

Moaning, she rocked her entire body weight on the dick, but it wasn’t enough for her.

“Y-Yui,” she moaned and allowed her body to slide to the side. “Slam it into me,” she begged. The pole stuck out lewdly and the balls hung down between her legs.

Unnerved, Yui grasped the end of the pole, glanced at Fei-Wang’s cold smile and Sakura terrified eyes, and pulled the co*ck slowly out of Cassandra. She moaned and writhed until the first swell of the mushroomed head was visible. Then, Yui slammed it back into her. She moaned and screamed, writhing and begging him.

“Go harder,” she moaned.

“Go faster,” she begged.

“More, more,” she whined.

The slap of the balls on her stomach and the sucking-wet sound of her puss* grasping and protesting the size and width of the co*ck and her screams of ecstasy were the only sounds in the room. Then, she came. Her nectar spurted out around the sides of the co*ck like a belch and she collapsed in exhaustion.

When she waved, Yui pulled out the co*ck-staff and leaned it against the wall again. He turned back to Fei-Wang, seeing Cassandra’s widely stretched slit still, dripping clear juices, out of the corner of his eye. He tried to ignore that. “When will we make the demand?” He asked.

Fei-Wang’s eyes narrowed.

Yui was becoming a loose card in Fei-Wang’s perfectly arranged hand. Yui appeared more concerned with getting this over with than violating Sakura and Syaoran, making them pay for the loss of the Fantasy Ring, which was the idea.

“Come now, Yui, there are two beautiful women here,” Fei-Wang said. “Why don’t you get an erection and f*ck Cassandra? I’d love to watch.”

Yui shook his head. “I’m going to get something to eat,” he said and hurried from the room.

For a while, Fei-Wang listened to Cassandra’s panting.

Then, he looked at his watch.

It had been three and a half hours since he had taken Sakura.

In about twenty-one hours, when Syaoran was panicking and at his wits end, Fei-Wang would make his demands.

Until then… he stroked his hardening shaft through his trousers.

Poor Sakura!

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 34: The Viper's Pain: Sex & Games

Chapter Text

There is sooooooooooo such snow in my front yard. It’s up to my waist! And worse yet, it’s all drifting into the areas I’ve shoveled!

It had been almost a day since Fei-Wang’s phone call…

Sakura had been in his hands for a day…

An entire day…

Syaoran was pacing back and forth in front of the couch.

A few hours ago, Xing-Huo had convinced him to go lie down for a while. He wouldn’t be able to help Sakura if he couldn’t think straight. So, he had gotten about five hours of interrupted, nightmare-plagued sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her body, beautiful and pale, tied to a bed. Sometimes there was a man’s head between her legs and he could hear the greedy licking and suckling. Or there would be a silhouette on top of her. He would see her face, twisted in pain, and her body contracting with the intrusion of each thrust. Or a co*ck in her mouth, forced deep down her throat, her narrow chest heaving for breath when she could. Other times, he saw her small figure stuffed with toys, stomach pressed out by something shoved brutally far up inside her. Sometimes, he just saw her beaten, whipped and smacked, abused violently.

She could see him.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and her mouth moved, begging him to help her, but he could only watch.

Once, he saw her killed and was unable to help. His limbs were just rooted in place, leaden.

He always woke in a cold sweat or sometimes with tears on his face.

Now, he abandoned the thought of rest though he knew he would need it.

Chi was sitting up on the couch with him. She was a pale platinum silhouette in the dim light of a street lamp outside. Her blue eyes glowed and watched him, following his pacing. Hideki was sprawled beside her with his head in her lap. Xing-Huo was asleep in the armchair. Exhaustion had finally taken her since she hadn’t slept since Syaoran called her. Kurogane and Fai were in bed, wrapped around each other. Kurogane had been the only one bale to sleep with any success. Fai, like Syaoran, woke often with nightmares.

The coffee pot was constantly brewing, gurgling and bubbling and filling the house with its scent.

“Syaoran, you should sit down. You are unnecessarily expending energy,” Chi said.

Syaoran sat down heavily on the coffee table and put his face in his hands.

“I can’t believe this happened,” he whispered.

Chi’s fingers were light and cold on his head, but she had no comfort in her touch, not for him.

…

Fai had just gotten up, dragging his feet and wrapped up in a ratty old plaid bathrobe, and was pouring himself a cup of coffee. There were bags under his blue eyes and his skin was stretched over the bones in his face. His blonde hair was disheveled. He looked like a ghost or an animated corpse.

He had no smile for the young people sitting up in the living room.

Then, the phone rang.

Syaoran dived for it. Xing-Huo woke with a start, scream in her mouth. Chi and Fai both jumped and Hideki snapped bolt upright.

By the second ring, Syaoran had crossed the room and had answered. “Hello?” (A few times, it had not been Fei-Wang calling and Syaoran had needlessly threatened a few telemarketers.)

“Syaoran, my dear child, how are you?”

“Fei-Wang, let Sakura go,” Syaoran demanded. Fai and Xing-Huo crowded around him, but he waved them away. Chi went to wake Kurogane, leaving Hideki in the living room. “I’ll do anything you want, just so long as you let her go.”

“Anything I want? My, my, my,” he said with a mean little chuckle.

Syaoran bit his lip and waited. Kurogane appeared at his elbow, putting their faces close so he could listen to the conversation.

“Is Kurogane there yet?”

Syaoran tilted the phone and Kurogane growled, “What do you want with me?”

“Oh, there you are. I just know the police will eventually get involved so I’ll tell you what. To save your dear Sakura, you and my Syaoran are to go to the subway. Board and take it to Watergate and Ninth. A cohort of mine will pick you up. If you have yourselves followed, I will kill the girl. If you bring anyone other than the two of you, I will kill the girl. If you are not here in less than one hour, I will kill the girl. Understand?”

“How will we know this cohort of yours?” Kurogane growled.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll find you.”

Syaoran couldn’t resist the cold worry in his heart. “Have you hurt Sakura?” He whispered.

Xing-Huo dug her fingers into his arm.

Fei-Wang chuckled. “No, just pleasured her. You know all about that, don’t you, Syaoran?”

A woman laughed in the background and Syaoran heard the crack of the whip.

“Tell her I’m coming for her,” Syaoran said.

Fei-Wang thrummed low in his throat. “Well,” he paused, “it is Christmas and I’m feeling generous, so I suppose I can do that for you. Consider it your gift. One hour, Syaoran, one hour. Merry Christmas.” Then, he hung up.

…

There was no choice in the matter.

Syaoran and Kurogane boarded the subway and rode it to Watergate and Ninth. Kurogane had his gun under his arm in a neat flat holster and Syaoran carried his nightclub and Taser. Worry was heavy in both their hearts.

Fei-Wang had them under his thumb.

Maybe he had since the very beginning.

…

Cassandra was waiting for them. She had her strawberry hair pulled up in a bun on the back of her head and some fresh dark makeup on her eyes. She was wearing a Sakura’s clothes. The skirt was too short, nearly exposing her lack of panties and the blouse was too tight across the chest. She had almost all the buttons unbuttoned, though the long coat hid that well. She looked around the subway again and then, she saw him.

He was even sexier than she remembered. Syaoran, though his face was drawn with lack of sleep and worry.

Beside him, the police man, Kurogane was big and dark. His crimson eyes burned when they touched her. He had big feet and big hands. She bet his co*ck was huge and fat, a monster. She thought of wrapping her mouth around it, or forcing it deep into her snatch.

There was a muted splat.

She looked down to see moisture dripping between her legs.

She grinned. Oops.

Then, she walked quickly towards them, planning on having some fun even before they reached the house.

…

Syaoran recognized Cassandra the second he saw her striding confidently toward them. A moment later, he recognized the coat he had given Sakura. His vision swam and he swayed on his feet.

“Kid?” Kurogane grasped his elbow and then looked where he was looking.

“Hi, I’m Cassandra,” she said once she was within hearing range. “Let’s go! Vamos!”

Syaoran took a few wobbly steps and Kurogane paced behind him.

Cassandra waited until they were close before making her play. She stepped in front of Syaoran and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hey, baby,” she crooned. “I missed you.”

“Get off,” Syaoran hissed.

Cassandra grinned. “I’ll stuff your Sakura’s c*nt for that.”

Syaoran’s face paled and Kurogane made a sound in the back of his throat.

“Touch me and I’ll forgive you,” Cassandra purred and let the coat slide open in the front. She slid one of her legs between his and touched his crotch with her knee. He could smell the scent of her arousal and felt sick. “Come on, Syaoran, touch me or I’ll stuff her juicy little c*nt.”

Trembling, Syaoran slid his hand down the front of the coat, grazing her breasts. He felt her nipples harden, straining against the fabric of the blouse.

“Touch me deeply, Syaoran, like I was going to touch your Sakura,” Cassandra purred.

He reached under the hem of the skirt, knowing she wouldn’t be wearing anything beneath it.

“Kid,” Kurogane hissed, but Syaoran ignored him. To protect Sakura, he would do anything.

“Shut up, policeman, you’ll get your turn,” Cassandra snapped and let her flint-black eyes slide closed. She moaned in Syaoran’s ear as the first brush of his fingers touched her slit. “Just like that, now get inside me.”

He pushed one finger into her, then a second. Her juices dripped on the subway floor.

A Hispanic woman walking her big dog stared as she shuffled slowly passed them under the weight of a giant backpack. The dog stopped, stuck his nose under the hem of the coat, and snuffled at Cassandra’s juices. Then, it looked up. Syaoran felt its hot breath on his hand and saw the woman’s eyes widen. He was pulling his fingers out of Cassandra when the dog licked her. She howled a moan in his ear, deafening him. The dog’s tongue made a horrible sound as it licked and lapped at her, resisting the woman’s attempt to pull it away. Her eyes were gaping and apologetic and she mumbled in a different language words Syaoran couldn’t understand. The dog shoved its head deeper and Cassandra spread her legs wider to grant it more access.

People were beginning to stare as the woman being pleasured by a dog.

“Syaoran, spread me so it can put its tongue inside me,” Cassandra moaned.

His entire body trembled with fear and embarrassment as he reached between her legs again. The dog’s tongue was like a slice of ham over his knuckles and her puss*. He slid his fingers into her opening and spread it wide. Instantly, the dog found the source of the tasty juices it was lapping and a dip that led to a wet yummy cavern. Syaoran felt its tongue between his fingers, licking inside Cassandra. Then, she org*smed, offering it more juices. She moaned in his ear and panted like a hound. Syaoran felt like he was going to be sick.

Then, Kurogane yanked the dog away.

The woman practically ran, dragging the happy dog behind her.

“Girl, you are sick,” Kurogane snarled.

Cassandra released Syaoran and he stumbled back into Kurogane. He steadied the kid, set him on his feet.

“You don’t know how it felt,” she said coyly. “Alright, vamos!”

…

Yui was waiting outside the subway station with a taxi and blindfolds.

“Here,” Cassandra said and tied the black silk around Syaoran’s eyes. He was trembling so badly and it was so cute. “Wear these.”

Kurogane glared at her so fiercely that she almost didn’t make him wear it, but Fei-Wang’s wrath would be something far worse than this policeman’s. She bound his eyes tightly and settled down between the pair.

Yui was a good driver and the windows were tinted.

She could take off her seatbelt and play a little now.

Cassandra stroked Kurogane through his pants and purred deep in her chest.

“Girl, what are you doing?” Kurogane snapped. His knuckles were white where they clenched into fists. “Stop it!”

“I’m playing, officer. Where’s your baton? I know you’re armed.”

“Why?”

She smiled and wished he could see her face when she spoke. “Because, I want it in my snatch,” she purred.

“Tough luck, lady,” Kurogane growled. His co*ck was bursting to fullness under her hand.

It had been too long. Rather than punish himself for wanting Syaoran by not having sex, Kurogane should have f*cked Fai. It would have relieved some of the sexual tension in his body. He couldn’t help the groan that welled up his throat.

Cassandra grinned.

Syaoran was trembling beside her. He was positively white with terror.

“I know you like men, but you can’t see me, can you? Just pretend,” Cassandra cooed. “Pretend I’m Syaoran.”

Kurogane’s body went ramrod straight and Syaoran jerked next to her.

Ooh, sore spot.

“You like men, Kuro, just pretend,” she whispered and slowly slid the zipper of his trousers down. She had been right. His co*ck was bigger than some of the toys and fat. The head glistened with precum and dark hairs wreathed the base. She put her mouth over it, swirled her tongue around the head, and sucked.

Kurogane groaned. He gripped her hair and pushed her face down on his shaft. Cassandra nearly choked and gagged. He was almost too big.

Trying to cover her coughs, she whispered, “Let me take you inside, Kuro. Come on. I’ll make it feel so good.”

Knowing Syaoran couldn’t see him for the blindfold and weakened by desire, Kurogane nodded. The girl was playing his body like a piano, touching all the right notes to make him sing. Her hot mouth around him had almost made him cum, but the prospect of her wet heat clenching around him was almost too sweet.

Cassandra knew he liked men. Fei-Wang had told her and he didn’t look like he was often on the bottom. She assumed he would be comfortable with anal, but maybe her wet vagin* would push him into the state Fei-Wang wanted. She bit her lip, unsure, and then decided.

She rubbed some of the juices from her puss* on her asshole and slid one finger into herself experimentally. Her muscles were coated and relaxed.

She was ready.

Cassandra swung her leg over Kurogane’s lap and shrugged out of Sakura’s coat. Then, she unbuttoned the blouse and lifted the skirt over her hips. Kurogane gripped her waist and tried to push her down, but she resisted. She carefully lined up the head of his shaft with her ass and pushed down lightly. A part of his head slid into her and the pain was white hot. He was so big, too big.

“Wait, I’ll need to use my puss*,” she whispered. “You’re so huge.”

Kurogane’s mouth curved into a smile and he dug his fingers into her hips. “Sorry, girl, I like your little hole,” he said.

Her face paled in fear. “Wai–!”

Kurogane slammed his co*ck into her. She was so tight and her muscles screamed and clenched at the intrusion of something so incredibly large. Only half of his shaft fit inside her with his first thrust. Her hands were braced on his shoulders, resisting gravity. She was breathing hard and painfully.

“Little more,” Kurogane muttered.

“No, it hurts,” Cassandra whispered. “It’s too big. It’s huge.” She whimpered.

Kurogane released her hips and grasped her hands. Gravity took over, slowly and painfully impaling her on his monster co*ck. She whimpered and cried. He could feel her chest shaking with sobs. Cassandra had never felt something so huge and she had taken two dicks in her ass at once. Even then, their combined might hadn’t been so large or so painful. Even worse, Kurogane was so deep inside that she could feel him pressing into her stomach, compressing her guts.

“Stop, it hurts,” she whispered.

Kurogane grasped her hips and lifted her up. Her asshole screamed in agony, stretching beyond its limits. She was going to rip. Then, he shoved her down again and grunted like a pig. Her breasts bounced and jiggled with the animal force of him lifting her and slamming her down, again and again.

Then, she felt his hot cream spurting inside her and thought it was over.

“Kid, give me the baton.”

Cassandra saw Syaoran search his pockets and then hand over the baton with shaking hands. The baton was as big as Kurogane’s co*ck!

“No, please!” She begged. “I can’t fit two of those inside of me!” She tried to struggle, but the more she wiggled the greater the pain in her ass got and Kurogane only enjoyed it. Finally, she collapsed with resignation as Kurogane licked the fat end of the baton. Once it was damp, he lifted her off his dick so that the head was still buried inside her and positioned the baton at the entrance to her c*nt.

“Ready?”

“No, please, don’t. Kuro, please,” she begged. “I can’t fit two of those inside of me.”

Kurogane shrugged and then slammed her down anyway. The baton hit the entrance of her womb and then stopped, though Kurogane pressed and pressed. The baton was filling her to the brim and his dick was tearing her apart.

Cassandra could only silently beg Yui to drive faster. Once they reached the house, all the attention would be on hurting Syaoran and Sakura. She would be permitted to nurse her aching ass and puss*.

“You’ve got one more little hole, don’t you?” Kurogane asked.

“My mouth?” Cassandra whispered over the sound of him slamming into her over and over. His cum made it easier on her ass, lubricated it.

Kurogane shook his head and she felt him pawing through her folds. After a moment, he whistled and then white-hot pain seared through her so terribly that she almost blacked out.

Her pee hole.

He had shoved his finger into her little tiny virgin pee hole.

The pain was unbearable.

Cassandra screamed, but Kurogane continued to f*ck her mercilessly.

Please, just let it be over soon, she prayed.

…

Syaoran was terrified.

Cassandra was screaming beside him and the sounds of her body being f*cked were so loud in the small vehicle. Even worse, he knew Kurogane was doing it. The older man was grunting and moaning and muttering nasty things to Cassandra.

Syaoran hated her for giving him to Fei-Wang, for betraying him, but even she didn’t deserve what it sounded like Kurogane was doing to her. Biting his lip, Syaoran prayed the car would go faster and soon everything would be over.

Two messed up chapters. Yes, Kurogane hurting Cassandra did have a purpose, like his dream about f*cking Syaoran.

Next chapter: they arrive at Fei-Wang’s house.

I don’t know if I’m going to have a good place to stick in what happened to Syaoran.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 35: Nightmares with Eyes: Reality is Broken

Chapter Text

I just want to thank everyone who reviewed this story.

Fei-Wang was lounging in his chair, just watching the girl as she struggled to get comfortable. He enjoyed the jiggling and bouncing of her full breasts. Sakura was still strung up in front of the big bed when Syaoran, Cassandra, Yui, and Kurogane arrived.

Cassandra was half-naked, with only Sakura’s skirt pushed above her hips like a belt. Cassandra limped and waddled. Her face was streaked with black makeup and tears and her eyes were red-rimmed. Her puss* looked sore and swollen, closer inspection revealed a police issued baton jammed up inside her. She was cupping it gently with one hand. It must have been one of those things that hurt in and hurt to take out, like ripping off a Band-Aid. When the light hit her correctly, one could see her asshole was all stretched out.

The front of Kurogane’s pants was unzipped. Something strained behind the fabric of his boxers and he walked with a high self-satisfied swagger. His crimson eyes were burning into Syaoran’s back and occasionally, he glanced at Cassandra abused orifices. Something was different in him, just how Fei-Wang had planned, just like he wanted.

Sakura’s coat and blouse were clutched in Syaoran’s arms. He glanced quickly around the room, not even pausing to glare at Fei-Wang. Sakura tried to offer him a smile when she saw him, but she was too tired, too hurt. His eyes widened and then narrowed, glowing with anger and regret and sorrow. “Sakura,” he whispered. She saw his lips move but she couldn’t hear him.

Sakura’s body was pale with a faint sheen on sweat on her crème skin. Her hair was lank and greasy in her face, her eyes were red, and her narrow chest was heaving. She was strung up like a fish to be gutted. Angry red welts burned on her breasts and buttocks, but she didn’t look to worse for the wear. She tried to smile, but couldn’t.

Yui was planning to turn everything around.

Fei-Wang stood up and opened his arms. “Syaoran, son, it’s good to see you. My, you haven’t changed at all,” he said and grinned. “Cassandra, on the other hand, what on earth happened to you?”

She sneered at him and let down her strawberry waves of hair. “Oh, Kuro f*cked me like dog, in all my holes,” she added a knowing smile, “and it hurt so good.” She purred, “To bad you missed it, Fei-Wang. You would have enjoyed watching.”

“Delightful,” Fei-Wang said.

“Let her go,” Syaoran interrupted. “You have me now. Let Sakura and Kurogane go.”

Fei-Wang sat down in his chair again and gazed sternly at Sakura. “She’s a beautiful girl. You have impeccable tastes,” he said.

Syaoran ground his teeth. “Let her go!”

“Of course,” Fei-Wang said and waved at Yui. “That was the bargain, after all, but…”

Yui’s movement was lightning fast. He whipped a telescoping club from his pocket and struck Syaoran brutally in the side of the head. The sound of the blow echoed with a crack throughout the room, ringing like a bell.

“Syaoran!” Sakura screamed.

Stunned, Syaoran dropped like a stone. He clutched his head, fingers sliding like pale snakes through his dark chocolate locks. He moaned in agony and writhed in pain for a moment. Then, he found the strength to pull his bloodied hands away and sit up. His eyes were glazed and dull.

Fei-Wang continued, finishing his sentence, “…would it kill you to say please? Honestly, I expect my son to show me a little respect.”

“Kid!”

Syaoran’s abrupt beating had snapped Kurogane out of whatever reverie he had been in. He whipped out his gun and crouched at his adoptive son’s side. Syaoran was still dizzily raised on his hands, coughing and breathing heavy. Some blood ran down the curve of his jaw.

“What are you thinking?!” Kurogane demanded.

Cassandra jerked the baton out of her snatch, screamed in pain, telescoped it, and clubbed Kurogane in the hand with it. His gun skittered away in Sakura’s direction. Yui hurried to pick it up and Fei-Wang chuckled.

“Wonderful, I think you may have gotten away if you had been a little bit quicker. Yui, give me that,” Fei-Wang ordered.

Yui handed over the gun. He couldn’t turn this situation around. It had gotten out of hand far too quickly and was escalading out of control.

“Can I sit down now?” Cassandra asked. “Or do you still need me?”

Fei-Wang waved her away. “Yui, go with her.”

Yui shot a desperate glance at Sakura, at Syaoran’s crumpled form, at Kurogane nursing his struck hand. There was nothing he could do here anymore. He needed help. Nodding, he took Cassandra’s arm and half-carried her from the room. He barely heard her voice in his ear.

“Hey, Yui, I think I’d feel better if you gave me oral pleasure. I’ll suck your dick if you lick my c*nt,” Cassandra said. Her voice echoed and then faded in the emptiness of the house and the door banged shut behind them.

Fei-Wang checked the gun to be sure it was loaded and then trained it on Sakura. “This is how this is going to work, Kurogane, but first. Tell me, was it your dick that did that to Cassandra?”

“Yeah…”

“I think you could enjoy what I have planned here, officer,” Fei-Wang said and looked at Syaoran’s limp figure.

Sakura was crying, sobbing Syaoran’s name.

“Kurogane, could you take off Syaoran’s clothes please?”

“What?! No!”

Fei-Wang trained the gun on Sakura. “I’ll shoot the girl,” he said flatly.

“Okay, wait…”

Kurogane’s mouth watered. He was still so aroused from f*cking Cassandra and if he saw Syaoran’s beautiful naked skin… he wasn’t sure he would be able to contain himself. He might rape the kid, his kid, who had already suffered so much.

Biting his lip, he peeled off several layers of warm winter clothes from Syaoran’s frame. The kid’s chest was toned and pale, unmarred except for the tattoo. Kurogane let his finger linger on Syaoran’s defined abdomen for a little too long. Desire welled up like a stone in his throat.

The tattoo was dark and beautiful on his chest, like a bruise or a spider. Then, murdered like a mongrel dog. He had never seen it before.

Without thinking, he bent low over the kid and drew a long slow lick from the tattoo up the column of Syaoran’s sinuous throat. He moaned in bliss. The kid’s skin was textured like satin, so soft and so sweet with fear-sweat.

Syaoran groaned and a shudder ran through him.

Kurogane leaped back and wiped his mouth.

Fei-Wang chuckled. Yes, everything was going to go exactly as he had planned. “Kurogane, could you put Syaoran on the bed please?” He continued.

Kurogane ground his teeth, glanced at Sakura where she was strung up like a piece of meat, and the gun Fei-Wang had trained on her. Then, without much choice, he lifted the kid’s body in his arms. Syaoran’s naked chest heaved, his head lolled to expose his sinuous delicious-looking throat, and the sharp bird-bone of his hips lifted up above the waistband of his jeans. Kurogane tried to keep his mind and desire from wondering to what was hidden inside Syaoran’s jeans. Carefully, he laid the kid down on the bed. Sakura was sobbing his name, whimpering it over and over.

Kurogane felt nauseous and his mind flit horrible back to the texture and taste of Syaoran’s skin.

He took a step back from the bed.

“Kurogane, could you take off his pants please?” Fei-Wang continued.

With shaking hands and no other choice, Kurogane unbuttoned and unzipped Syaoran’s jeans and slid them slowly, painfully, down the kid’s thin legs. His boxers were getting tight, his member straining and full, at the prospect of Syaoran’s naked form vulnerable and defenseless under his hands.

The room was hot. Sweat rolled down Kurogane’s back, through the cleft of his ass, and ran over his balls.

“Kurogane, could you put Sakura on the bed, please? There are cuffs on the head board to restrain her.”

Mechanically and ignoring her cries not to, Kurogane freed her wrists. Her body dropped like a stone, numb and trembling. He was still staring at Syaoran, unfocused, unthinking. He dragged her to her feet and tossed her onto the bed. Since her wrists were still duct taped together, he took one set of cuffs and secured her ankle to one of the lower posts of the bed.

Sakura wrapped herself around Syaoran’s prone figure. “Kurogane, please, you don’t know what you’re doing. Stop, please, it’s Syaoran,” the girl sobbed and tightened her grip around his chest as best she could. Her entire body was numb and weak. “Stop it! Please, Kurogane, don’t do it!”

Fei-Wang smiled. “How about the kid’s boxers, Kurogane?”

His hands were steady, but cold as he peeled down Syaoran’s boxers and tossed them. Goose bumps rose across the kid’s chest, prickling.

The tattoo across his hips and the arrow were beautiful and beckoning. To be f*cked and abused–my Syaoran. Kurogane would like nothing more than to f*ck the kid. He licked his lips, ignoring Sakura’s cries and her pale feminine limbs obscuring his view of Syaoran’s entire body. Her breasts were squashed into the side of the kid’s chest, her pale tresses mingling with his, her heat warming his body.

“Go ahead, Kurogane,” Fei-Wang called. His voice echoed in the empty room. For a moment, he thought about what to say next. He wanted the policeman to f*ck Syaoran, but he had to do it in a way that the darkness in Kurogane’s heart would consume him. It had to be a statement, not and order, but a suggestion. Fin ally, Fei-Wang said, “Do something to them.”

“No!”

Then, the control just left Kurogane. All he saw was Syaoran’s body and that was all he wanted, just the kid, and he didn’t care how he got what he wanted.

Sakura’s protests were weak. Her body was trembling and numb. She couldn’t stop Kurogane.

Gripping the kid’s hips hard enough to leave dark bruises, Kurogane rolled Syaoran onto his stomach. Blood ran down the side of Syaoran’s face and he moaned in pain. His face was pressed into Sakura’s belly and she cradled his back in her hands. There was nothing she could do.

The tattoo and arrow on his pale lower back was more like a scar. Already used, not worth being loved. It was a horrible mark, but Kurogane found it more of a guide.

He traced the path made by the arrow down between the cleft of Syaoran’s butt to his tiny puckered hole. It was less virgin and tight than Kurogane had dreamed, but the kid had been a captive of the Fantasy Ring for a long time and then raped only a short month ago. His body was healed, but still healing.

Kurogane feathered a kiss on his tailbone, lavishing attention on the tattoo. He gripped Syaoran’s cheeks and spread them to admire what he was about to sink into. His sick fantasy was to become reality. His dick twitched and hardened. He licked his finger and then pushed it inside the kid.

Syaoran’s entire body tensed, muscles clamping down on Kurogane’s intruding finger. His back coiled and arched, his shoulders strained, every inch of him was trying to get away.
Sakura sobbed, held his shoulders and head gently against her midsection, and then made an attempt to stop Kurogane. One of her ankles was secured to the bed, but the other was free. She took her foot and jammed it into Kurogane’s jaw with as much force as she could muster.

Kurogane’s head snapped back and blood filled his mouth. He had bitten his tongue.

Syaoran, his asshole stretched by a second finger, was still limp and unconscious from the blow Yui had delivered to his head. Sakura, on the other hand, was protectively gripping the young man. Her jade eyes were glossy and filled with tears.

“Please, Kurogane. It’s Syaoran,” she sobbed. “Look what you’re doing to him! He’s your son!”

Kurogane grunted, “Not my son…”

Fei-Wang smiled. At this point, it was all over. There was nothing the girl could do to stop the policeman and the pain Syaoran would feel would rouse him from unconsciousness. Hopefully, Yui was in another room pleasuring Cassandra so she could also be used when the time came. In his trousers, his dick hardened and twitched.

Sakura had kicked him in the face. Kurogane wasn’t happy.

He ground his teeth and followed the curve of Sakura’s thigh along Syaoran’s leg. He could see part of her slit peeping out between her folds. It was shiny and flushed, beckoning him to take revenge on the vulnerable soft flesh she had left exposed to him.

He wet his lips.

Decisions, decisions.

He couldn’t f*ck the kid if he used his dick to f*ck her, but if he just f*cked the kid, then she would go unpunished for kicking him in the face.

Decisions, decisions.

Then, an idea struck him.

He reached beneath Syaoran and stroked the young man’s co*ck into fullness. Then, he struck Sakura hard across the face. Stunned, she was unable to protest as Kurogane wrenched her legs apart and positioned Syaoran between them. f*cking her puss* would be to kind, Kurogane thought, and slid two fingers into her asshole. She was still rattled and weakly pushed at his shoulders as he mounted the bed. Unlike Syaoran, he gave her no preparation and tore her muscles apart to gaping with is two fingers. Then, using his knee in the small of Syaoran’s back, he inserted the kid’s co*ck into her ass and released her muscles with a snap.

Sakura whimpered and he watched her muscles clenching and spasming against the outright intrusion. Syaoran’s eyes fluttered beneath his lids.

Kurogane went back to Syaoran, inserted two fingers into the kid’s ass, and made a scissoring motion. Syaoran’s body arched, pushing deeper into Sakura, and she whimpered in agony. Then, Kurogane released his throbbing erection and pressed his head against the guide of the arrow. With one harsh clean thrust, Kurogane broke into Syaoran’s body. The kid tensed and the forward motion of Kurogane’s thrust forced him deeper into Sakura.

She screamed in anguish.

…

Syaoran came to with pain blaring white-hot through his entire body. His head was throbbing, pounding, and reeling from Yui’s blow and the subsequent fall to the floor. Then, there was a familiar pain of waiting for release in his middle and the even more familiar pain of intrusion, rape, in his ass.

Someone was f*cking him, hard, by the brutal in and out thrust of sharp hips and he was f*cking someone else, equally hard by shockwaves.

A scream dug through his consciousness.

He dug his fingers into the mattress against the pain and forced his eyes open.

Sakura’s face, scrunched in agony, was a few inches from his own. Her hands, securely bound, were gripping his shoulder, but not digging in. Her breasts bounced and jiggled with the brutal animal forced of the thrusts pounding into her ass. His own co*ck was inside her, causing her such terrible pain.

Syaoran felt nauseous.

He brought up one hand, trying to support his weight on the other, and carefully touched her cheek.

Her eyes struggled open and then fell on him. “Syao–” she choked out and then pain turned the rest of his name into a cry.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He was able to ignore the pain inside his ass. He had been taken before, but it was Sakura’s first time. That was always the hardest and the clenching of her muscles told him she had not been adequately prepared. He had to try to help her, but his body was pinned between f*cking her and being f*cked.

There was only one thing he could do…

…

Tears burned in Sakura’s eyes.

Syaoran’s skin was warm and soft beneath her fingers and she tried to focus on that.

He was awake now, supporting his weight so she could breathe easier, but the thrusts of his dick as Kurogane’s shoved inside of him again and again forced the breath from her lungs. Her butthole was being stretched and torn so horribly. The pain threatened black at the edge of her vision.

Syaoran whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Then, she felt something wonderfully distracting. Syaoran’s fingers were gently touching her cl*t, encouraging her to relax and feel only what he was offering her.

Once she did, the pounding of him inside her became easier to bear.

He touched her slit and she knew she was wet. A blush colored her cheeks at the thought that Syaoran knew she was wet for him. He didn’t enter her with his fingers, just gathered her moisture and applied it gently around her butthole. Almost immediately, the friction and pain lessened.

Able to draw her first deep breath in a while, Sakura whispered desperately, “It’s Kurogane…”

…

No sooner had Sakura spoken, than Syaoran felt his ass fill with heat. Something dripped down the backs of his thighs, sticky and warm. Kurogane grunted in his ear and thrust a few more times as his co*ck softened inside Syaoran. Finally, the policeman pulled out of his adoptive son and gripped Syaoran’s hips to pull him out of Sakura. Kurogane rolled him over and the tips of his fingers were just wrapping around the head of Syaoran’s penis when Syaoran landed his first blow.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 36: The Choice, the Blood, & the Mirror

Chapter Text

It's so messed up, but Kurogane is such a strong warrior that I needed something pretty powerful to keep him busy. Imagine how traumatized you would be if you raped your kid and used him to rape another kid. That should keep the officer busy while Syaoran kicks ass, yes?

Once out of Fei-Wang’s sights, Yui was left with Cassandra. She was whining and moaning about how much her ass and puss* hurt, but she was such a whor* that Yui didn’t really care. She kept wrapping her leg around his as they walked, pressing her stretched snatch against his thigh.

“Cassandra, I don’t want to f*ck you. I’m hungry,” Yui said impatiently and shook her off again.

She giggled. “You can eat me. I’ll let you do anything you want to me,” she cooed.

“Get off, Cassandra,” Yui snapped.

She pouted. “Come on, I’m in pain here. Pity me, humor me, I don’t care, just pleasure me!”

“You just got all your holes stuffed so I think what you need to do is eat something, not get f*cked some more!” Yui took her hands off his ass, stopped them from creeping around to cup his genitals. “Knock it off!”

She stalked away, pouting, to lie sexily on the chaise lounge with her legs spread wide. The view of her abused orifices was less than arousing. It was disgusting.

“Cassandra, you’re a whor*.”

“I’m telling Fei-Wang,” she whined. “I bet he makes you f*ck me.”

“I bet he makes you f*ck yourself so he can watch. He’s a sick bastard,” Yui said and pulled on his heavy boots.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something to eat. Do you want anything?” Yui asked kindly. She did look like she was in pain spread apart like that.

Cassandra licked her lips sensually. “Yeah, a fat juicy co*ck,” she said.

Yui should have seen that coming. Rolling his eyes, he pulled on his leather motorcycle jacket and started for the door.

“Wait, Yui!”

“What?”

“Could you bring me the box of toys and lube?” Cassandra called.

Disgusted, Yui stalked back toward her and slid the box across the floor with the toe of his boot. “There. I’m leaving now so work one out for yourself,” he snapped.

Cassandra was already rooting through the box and smiling to herself. Ignoring the sounds of her sucking a fake co*ck, Yui let himself out and hurried to his motorcycle. Kicking it into gear, he tore out the driveway.

Yui didn't know Cassandra was digging the tracking device out of the bottom of the box of toys. She checked the panel and watched Yui’s little dot moving across the screen for a moment. When it became apparent he wasn’t going for food, she fussed over what to do.

Fei-Wang would like the fact that she had even allowed him to leave. He would probably ream her abused holes and she couldn’t take that pain right down.

Self-preservation was a wonderful and terrible thing, but wonderfully even the cruelest of people were blessed with it.

Wanting to save her ass or puss* from a reaming, Cassandra didn’t say anything until it was too late and Yui was already tearing, high speed, back to the house.

…

Yui wasn’t entirely sure where he was going or what kind of welcome he would get. On the one hand, he might not be believed and hauled off to the police station for hours of interrogation by which time Syaoran and Sakura would surely be dead. On the other hand, they may believe him and go tearing to the rescue.

He hoped for the latter of the two and applied more speed to the motorcycle.

Wind whipped through his hair and he took the corners too fast. Then he was at the doorstep of the house where he had once laid Syaoran’s violated, blind and mute, body with a big bow tied around his narrow waist. He could only hope they would take his news well.

He rang the bell several times, not caring about the hour or who saw him.

But, within seconds, the door was opened and it was like looking in a mirror.

Fai’s mouth slid open, but he was unable to produce his twin’s name.

Yui was equally as shocked, but he had more pressing matters than the sudden discovery of a man who looked just like him. “It’s Fei-Wang! He’s got them all in his web and there’s going to be no hope for saving them if we don’t leave right now and help them!” Yui shouted.

Just like that, he was able to turn the situation around.

…

Syaoran ignored the pain tearing through his head like a knife and focused only on the arc of his leg as he lashed out at Kurogane.

He was a professional fighter and there was very little he enjoyed more than the satisfying confidence and tingling in his legs that he got when he defeated something. He was always pleased to know his body was no longer to be used and tossed away. It was a weapon, his weapon, and he could protect himself now. He wasn’t a frightened child anymore who couldn’t stop anything from happening to him or the ones he cared for.

He could fight even Kurogane and as a professionally fighter, often winning copious amounts of money because no one ever bet on him on first glance. He was small and slender, almost feminine, and he looked like a brand new fighter because of the unbroken planes in his face. But, Syaoran always won his matches. He was undefeated.

The only ones who had ever been able to take him down were Fei-Wang’s flunkies outnumbering him six to one after a long night of fights.

His bare foot connected solidly with the policeman’s chest and then the side of his head as a second blow. Kurogane flew backwards and smashed into the floor. He slid several feet, tearing open the skin of his back, but he stopped then and lay still.

Syaoran’s legs tingled.

Blinking blood from his eyes and wiping it from the side of his face, Syaoran glanced around the room. He, Kurogane, Sakura, and Fei-Wang were the only ones inside. His clothes were everywhere, scattered in heaps, but his jeans were in a convenient heap at the foot of the bed.

Syaoran pulled them on quickly and then whirled to face Sakura lying, prone and abused, on the bed.

“Touch her and you die, boy.” Fei-Wang’s voice cut through him like a knife and Syaoran’s entire back tensed.

Sakura sobbed and curled her body up into itself as best she could. “Syaoran,” she whimpered.

“W-why are you doing this?” Syaoran whispered.

“You broke my ring, boy,” Fei-Wang said.

Syaoran nodded.

Fei-Wang sat back in his chair with a smile. He had to hand his son one thing and that was earnest straight-forwardness. There was no blubbering in the face of pain or terror, no self-pity in the face of fault, no screaming in the face of his violation, nothing but compassion in the face of unintentionally hurting someone he cared for, and now in the face of imminent death he was not trying to save himself by denying the truth.

“I meant to her,” Syaoran said and gestured to Sakura. “She’s a good person and she has nothing to do with this. If you want me, you can have me.”

Fei-Wang adjusted his monocle and toyed with the weapon he held in his hand. “Alright, I’ll make you a deal, on my honor this time,” he added as an afterthought. “I’ll give you a choice and only one choice. Take it or I’ll do whatever I wish to both of you.”

Syaoran dipped his head in a nod of resignation.

“The girl gets f*cked or you die.”

Without hesitation, Syaoran said, “Kill me.”

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 37: Shots Fired: The Mannequin & the Gun

Chapter Text

Oh and I apologize in advance for all the point of view switching in this chapter. There are too many characters and too much going on so everybody will just have to bear with me.

Piled into Chi’s police cruiser and Fai’s dumpy minivan, the others tore out.

Chi and Hideki led the way, lights and sirens howling in the snowy cloudy night. Red and blue was swallowed up by the grey darkness. Yui was riding shotgun with them, giving Chi directions to the outlandish house. Hideki peered at them nervously through the barrier. He had been the only one suspicious of Yui’s sudden appearance and change of heart, but Fai’s voice and argument had been so much stronger. That and their familial resemblance had been the icing on the cake.

Fai and Xing-Huo were piled in the rusted minivan. Xing-Huo was leaning far forward in her seat, peering through the snowy dreary dark. Fai was hunched over the steering wheel, equally panicked by the thought of Kurogane, Syaoran, and Sakura trapped in Fei-Wang’s hands. The windshield wipers squeaked and screamed as they beat back and forth across the windshield steadily.

“Do you think they’ll be okay, Fai?” Xing-Huo asked with worry heavy in her voice.

“Syaoran is strong. Kurogane is stronger. And Sakura is a tough girl,” Fai said, but that was all he said.

The doctor rolled his shoulders. He had a medical kit, several thick blankets, and an ice chest with food, water, and ice in the backseat. In the trunk, he had a small arsenal of weaponry: a twelve-gauge shotgun, two .38 Chiefs Specials, a flare gun, and a metal baseball bat.

Chi and Hideki were decked out with police issued pepper spray, Tasers, batons, and guns. But those were the only things they carried of their police force business. There was no doubt in any of their minds that neither Fei-Wang nor any of his cohorts would get out of this alive.

The evening was snowy and cold. It muffled the sounds of their pain, of the crisis heavy in the air. A breeze laden with flurries whipped in, wailing through the city skyscrapers and through the skeleton bums trolling the streets. Trashcan fires looked like burning sets of eyes in the night.

They drove at full tilt and prayed that by the time they got there, it wouldn’t be too late.

…

Yui had family!

Fai was his brother, his twin brother, the missing half of him.

They were finally complete.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the joy in his chest, but his life had never been a basket of roses. It would be his luck to find Fai and then have him brutally torn away from him. Yui decided then that he would do anything he could to save these people. After all, they were his family, too.

…

“The girl gets f*cked or you die.”

Without hesitation, “Kill me.”

“No!”

Sakura’s voice was sharp and shrill in the desperate silence.

“No, Syaoran, no. It’s not worth it,” she said. “Let him have me. It’s only a body!”

Syaoran’s amber eyes glowed and narrowed. Something glittered in his eyes. “Sakura… you’re not involved. This is between me and him,” he said. “Not you.”

He turned back to Fei-Wang, who was looking on with a smile on his cruel face.

“That’s my choice,” Syaoran said. “Kill me, but you have to let her go.”

“Of course, son, with you gone there’d be no reason to keep a little slu*t,” Fei-Wang said. “Cassandra and I will skip the country.”

“Syaoran…” Sakura sobbed.

Fei-Wang fished the keys to the handcuffs from his pocket and then pulled out a knife. He tossed both to Syaoran so they skidded across the concrete floor noisily, stopping near the boy’s feet. “Cut the girl loose,” he said.

Syaoran stooped to gather the objects, paused for half a second to grab one of the shirts that Kurogane had stripped from his body, and hurried to the bed. He freed her ankle and cut the duct tape on her wrists. Then, he cast the shirt around her nudity and turned back to Fei-Wang.

Sakura’s trembling fingers escaped the folds of the shirt and he felt them touching his back so he took a step forward to escape her reach.

…

Fei-Wang smiled and paused to allow himself to wonder how on earth Syaoran had gotten these wonderful character traits…

His honesty, earnestness, compassion, and sense of duty. His inability to turn his back on anyone who needed him. This beautiful selflessness.

Sacrifice another’s body or sacrifice your own life.

Only Syaoran would murder himself in the place of a pretty young woman’s violated body.

For a moment, Fei-Wang regretted murdering his son, but the feeling passed quickly.

…

Syaoran resisted the shudder that started in his hands and worked steadily toward his shoulders by clenching his fists. If he didn’t relax, his entire body would start trembling and he would be unable to protect Sakura. He knew Fei-Wang did not plan to let either of them leave this place alive. Somehow, Syaoran had to kill the evil man, even at the cost of his own life.

He gripped the little knife tightly in his fist.

If he could get rid of Fei-Wang, Sakura would be safe. Cassandra was a slu*t, but her only interest was sex. She would not kill Sakura. She might play with her for hours on end while bodies lay bleeding and growing cold on the floor, but she would not kill Sakura.

If he could only kill Fei-Wang, even if he died doing it, Sakura would be safe. Yui was an underling, but Syaoran knew him to get no pleasure in killing. He had been with Fei-Wang as long as Syaoran had been, since birth or near then, but he had a compassionate heart. He used to bring food, water, blankets, and bandages to the children trapped in the p*rn ring years ago. If anything, he would protect Sakura from Cassandra.

If Syaoran could kill Fei-Wang…

…

“Girl, you get a choice, too. Will you take it?” Fei-Wang’s offer was sinister.

Syaoran’s back and shoulders tensed. He sensed Sakura stand behind him and her hand touched the small of his back. Her fingers were icy cold and clammy.

“You can have me. Let him live, please,” she called. Her voice echoed through the room.

Sweat rolled down Syaoran’s spine.

What if Fei-Wang took her offer?

He would tear her body apart!

Syaoran was sure of that.

“Sakura,” he said desperately.

She shushed him.

“That was Syaoran’s choice. You get a different one,” Fei-Wang murmured. “Same rules that applied to him, apply to you.”

Sakura worried her lip, glanced quickly at Syaoran, and then nodded. “Alright, I’ll do it,” she said finally.

Fei-Wang grinned and wet his lips. “Alright, girl,” he said and sat back. The gun was still trained on them, but it was loosely gripped in his hand and lolled against his palm. He looked self-satisfied, like a leach on the plump tight ass of a cheerleader. He knew there was no way he couldn’t win now.

“You kill the boy or I have him beaten to death.”

…

Kurogane was still a heap in the middle of the floor.

His pants were down around his hips. His dick was hanging out, sticky with his own sem*n and sweat, and had been painfully chafed by the floor. The blow Syaoran had delivered to his skull had been hard enough to knock him unconscious.

He’d need a little more than time to revive him.

Maybe cold water or a rude slap.

Either way, it was coming.

…

Sakura’s mouth ran dry. She looked desperately at Syaoran, but his eyes were closed.

“You kill the boy or I have him beaten to death.”

She hesitated. Then, quietly, “I’ll kill him…”

“Here.” Fei-Wang held out a second gun to her. “It has only one shot in it, so don’t get any funny ideas,” he said knowingly when Syaoran’s eye cracked open hopefully. The boy’s eye closed again and a shudder ran through him. Fei-Wang carelessly tossed the gun down to the girl from his chair. He trained the gun more rigidly on them, just in case.

Sakura stared at the gun stupidly.

“What? Did you expect me to make you beat him to death? That wouldn’t have been much of a choice,” Fei-Wang said with a mean chuckle.

Tears welled up in Sakura’s jade eyes as she stooped to pick up the gun.

Syaoran still hadn’t opened his eyes. Sakura heard that when you kill someone, seeing the light leave their eyes stayed with you, haunted you, forever. Maybe he sought to spare her from that. She wished he’d look at her, that none of this was happening. She wished she could stop time and figure out what to do.

There had to be a way out of this.

There just had to be.

Kurogane had shown her before the failed switch how to handle a weapon, but she played stupid, biding some time to think. Finally, when she heard Fei-Wang pulled back the hammer on his own weapon, she flicked off the safety.

“Syaoran,” she whispered.

He angled his head.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked out.

He didn’t say anything.

…

Syaoran’s mind was racing a mile a minute.

There had to be a way out of this!

If Sakura killed him, it was all over for her.

Fei-Wang would rape her and beat her and starve her and maybe, if she was lucky, he’d kill her.

If she was really lucky, Fai would find her.

…

Then, Cassandra barreled into the room. She was wrapped in a sheer white silk robe tied loosely around her hips. Her dark rosy nipples and the strawberry triangle of curls between her thighs showed through the pale cloth. Moisture was rolling down the inside of her leg. Her chest was heaving, breasts swelling out the part of her robe.

“It’s Yui!” She panted. “He stuffed my poor aching ass and licked my juicy c*nt and then knocked me out. When I woke up, I looked out the window and…” she paused, gasping for breath. Then, she shouted and pointed back through the door she had burst through. “They’re here!”

…

Fei-Wang’s face went white.

Sakura let out a giggle of mirth.

Syaoran tapped down a smile of relief.

Cassandra planted her hands on her hips and heaved in a deep breath.

Chi, Fai, Hideki, Yui, and Xing-Huo were speeding down the driveway in a caravan of late rescuers

…

In one swift movement, Fei-Wang swung the gun sights from Syaoran and Sakura to Cassandra. He squeezed the trigger and filled her body with lead. Her limbs flailed uselessly as she went down. When she hit the floor, she twitched and gasped and then finally was still. Blood, piss, and sh*t spread out around her and stained the white robe.

Then, Fei-Wang whirled on Sakura and Syaoran. His face was wild and his monocle dropped from his eye.

His perfect game was falling apart!

“Girl, shoot him!”

Sakura’s mouth went dry. Syaoran moved between her and Fei-Wang.

“Stop, you’ve–” Syaoran began, but once Fei-Wang was close enough, he smashed Syaoran in the face with the butt of the pistol.

His skull had already been bashed and the added trauma dropped him like a stone. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and down his throat. Sakura could see his heart beating beneath the black tattoo. Then, murdered like a mongrel dog. The gun shook in her hand.

“Kill him or I’ll bash his brains in!” Fei-Wang screamed at her.

Sakura’s mouth gasped.

Fei-Wang smashed Syaoran in the face again and the skin on his cheek split open like a ripe peach. Blood bubbled out.

“Stop it!” Sakura screamed.

“Kill him, girl! You made the choice!” Fei-Wang grabbed her arm and dragged her down to her knees. Syaoran’s shirt fell open, unbuttoned, exposing her body in all its nudity. Fei-Wang jammed the gun into Syaoran’s chest, right into the heart of the tattoo.

Sakura screamed for Fai, for Xing-Huo, for anyone.

His finger was twisting through the trigger guard, pressing down on her finger, on the trigger.

“Syaoran!” She screamed.

…

Fai and Yui were the first to leap from their cars. Yui was already heading for the door, full speed, muttering to himself as he went. Fai was a centimeter behind him. Xing-Huo was next, but she went for the trunk and dragged out the shotgun and two pistols. Chi and Hideki dashed to help her. Hideki thought to grab the first aid kit from the backseat.

A scream rang through the empty winter air, muffled by the falling snow.

“Sakura!” Xing-Huo shouted and sped after the twins.

…

Sakura screamed and her voice penetrated through Kurogane’s unconsciousness.

The officer groaned and sat up. He glanced over toward the kid, the nurse, and the villain.

He remembered what happened and retched. He still felt Syaoran’s body protesting under him, arching at the intrusion of his co*ck, Sakura kicking him in the face, Sakura screaming when he used Syaoran to stuff her asshole, Syaoran kicking him in the face…

…

Fei-Wang reached through the opened end of the shirt and shoved his hand between Sakura’s legs. She felt his rough fingers pawing through her folds, seeking her tender entrance, but his other hand was forcing the gun to Syaoran’s chest.

She couldn’t struggle against him.

All her strength went to fighting his finger over hers on the trigger.

“Help! Somebody, help us!” She screamed and then was abruptly choked off by a white-hot pain.

Fei-Wang had shoved four fingers into her tight slit and was pressing his thumb savagely on her sensitive cl*t. “Shoot him or I’ll fist your c*nt!” He shouted.

“N-no,” she whispered and tried to pull the gun from Syaoran’s chest again.

He shoved his thumb into her snatch, forcing her muscles to stretch and rip. She couldn’t even scream. Then, in one smooth motion, he shoved his entire fist inside her. His hand opened, tearing her inner walls and then she felt something cold grab her womb. His hand closed around it and tugged. It felt like something as deep as her heart was being ripped out.

“Let go!” Sakura screamed.

She had been balancing on the balls of her feet and now she allowed herself to fall. It was the only thing she could think to do. She couldn’t do anything so long as the gun was against Syaoran. Her weight threw him off and his hand was stuck inside her. The trigger guard caught his finger, twisted it, and finally she couldn’t resist him any longer.

Her head hit the ground, hard, and the gun went off.

…

The house was a wreck. It smelled of mildew and sex. Sexual toys were spread all over the floor along with clothes and food was scattered on a folding card table. It was clearly a secret hidey-hole, scarcely furnished, but there was a big old safe and a laptop in one corner.

Yui was already darting for a door with Fai hot on his heels.

Then, the shot rang out just as they hurled the door open.

…

Kurogane hurriedly stuffed his dick back into his trousers and zipped them.

…

Cassandra’s body was strewn like a white mannequin in the middle of the floor. She was dressed in white, but wearing red.

Across the room, in front of the big bed where Kurogane had f*cked the kid and the nurse, Syaoran’s body was limply spread across the floor. His face was bloody and bruised. Fei-Wang was sprawled on top of him. His three-piece suit was mussed and his monocle was cracked on the floor near his knee. Sakura, with Fei-Wang’s hand inside her and a smoking gun in her hand, was also wilted across the concrete floor. Her legs were lying across Syaoran’s naked torso and her bare body was exposed through the opened expanse of his shirt.

Blood was a mess around them, but who had been shot?

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 38: Wounds: Recieved, Taken, & Given

Chapter Text

I almost didn’t post this.

Fai brushed past Yui and barreled to Sakura and Syaoran’s side. The doctor in him wanted him to stop and check Cassandra, the lover in him wanted to look for Kurogane, but the father in him had him kneeling next to the kids. Sickened by Fei-Wang’s grip on the beautiful girl but having more important things to worry about than her decency, he pressed his fingers to Sakura’s throat and, after a moment of panic, detected a steady firm pulse. Then, with shaking hands, he touched Syaoran’s wrist. The kid was cool to the touch and his face was bruised, beaten to a pulp, and Fai didn’t feel a pulse. A stone caught in his throat and he reached up to try again in his son’s throat. A racing heartbeat was thudding through Syaoran’s jugular.

Fai nearly sobbed with relief.

The doctor reached for Fei-Wang’s hand and pulled it from Sakura’s tender intimate place. She winced, face wrinkling in pain or twisted pleasure. Fai hoped it was the former as he wrestled the man from her body.

Behind him, Xing-Huo called, “This one is dead. Please tell me they’re not…”

Fai choked out, nearly sick with relief. “No, Syaoran and Sakura look to be okay,” he called back to her.

There was a collective sigh of release.

Chi slumped to her knees and Hideki put a hand on her shoulder.

Yui stepped up beside Xing-Huo and Cassandra’s corpse. Xing-Huo’s back was heaving, sinuous and curved through her tank top. Her shoulders were polished and shiny and her skin was like heavy cream. Her waist was narrow and her hips had a light little flare to them. Her legs were tapered and long, like a colt’s. Dark curls streamed over her back and shoulders. The pistols were crammed in her pockets and she was leaning on the shotgun. There was a callus in the curve of her shoulder from holding and firing a shotgun. She was beautiful and so strong.

He put a hand on her back, relishing the heat of her.

She jolted, but didn’t shake him off. She turned to look at him, big violet eyes like a Popsicle in the summer.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly.

She nodded. “It’s finally over…”

Xing-Huo pressed her hand to her chest and sighed heavily. “Thank goodness,” she whispered. She set the bulky shotgun down and leaned on it in an attempt to catch her breath. Her hair draped down in wisps of curls around the edges of her face so she only caught the movement out of the corner of her eye.

…

Kurogane stood up and took a few tottering steps. His head was beating like a marching band and his dick was still thick with the memory of Syaoran’s ass around him, of the kid’s beautiful body writhing beneath him, of Sakura’s whimpers, of the slap-slap of his balls, of the sweat on his brow, of f*cking Cassandra so brutally in the taxi.

He saw Fai bent over the kids, smiling with tears in his blue eyes. He had Sakura’s limp hand pressed to his cheek. Her skin looked pale and there was blood on her wrist. Syaoran was a twisted skinny body beneath her legs, beaten, but Fai was smiling. They must be okay.

Thank God…

…

Sakura’s bullet was buried deep in Fei-Wang’s side.

Everything had fallen apart.

He lost his baby, his Fantasy Ring.

He hadn’t gotten to break his son, destroy the strong honest child.

He had lost Cassandra, Fai’s Yui, Yukito and Touya and all his whor*s, and his children.

Now, he was dying, but he would be damned if he went alone!

He still had a knife in his pocket…

…

Xing-Huo only caught the movement from the corner of her eye. Syaoran and Sakura were unaware, unconscious, wounded, exhausted. Kurogane glimpsed the back of it. Chi, Hideki, and Yui saw it full on. Fai was in the middle of it.

The dead rose. Fei-Wang reared up like a monster, face wild and bloody. His mouth opened in a cackle of rage and hate and mirth. A chip of ice, cold steel, gleamed in his hand and he stabbed violently down at Syaoran and Sakura, again and again.

Two stabs were the only wound he managed to inflict.

Fai shoved his hand between the blade and Syaoran’s exposed heart. It ripped through is hand, breaking fingers and thin bones. A howl rose up the doctor’s throat, but he wrapped his fingers around Fei-Wang’s knuckles and held the weapon fast.

Fei-Wang jerked lamely and blood gushed from the gunshot wound in his chest. It splattered on Syaoran’s face. The kid’s eyes flickered open, amber and glowing.

For a moment, Fai and Fei-Wang struggled, grappling over the knife.

Xing-Huo had raised the shotgun to her shoulder, but it was too risky to take aim. Yui was already gone from her side. Chi was screaming, hands at her face, unable to stop. Hideki was trying to comfort her, tear her away from the sight, but to no avail. Kurogane was coming in from behind them, waddling in obvious pain.

Yui reached them first. He had a knife in his boot and tore it quickly out.

For an instant, his and Fai’s eyes connected and shared something. Memories of pain and terror welled between them, stretching like a rubber band to the limit before snapping. Fai had been trying to find him, struggling with his heart and his love while Yui was a helpless pawn in Fei-Wang’s game. Anger bubbled up in Yui’s chest and he wished her had done this sooner. In one smooth movement, he stabbed Fei-Wang in the back of his exposed neck, severing his spine.

The man dropped like a stone, gasping and choking. Yui hauled his off of Syaoran and Sakura.

Fai cradled his injured hand to his chest.

For a moment, the brothers just stared at each other in wordless understanding. Then, Yui dropped to his knees at Fai’s side, carefully touched the exposed flesh of Sakura’s ankle, and then sobbed quietly, “I’m sorry…”

Fai enveloped his twin in his arms and shushed him. “It’s over now,” he whispered.

Fei-Wang choked and gasped on the floor, like a fish out of water, but no one moved to put him out of his misery.

Let the bastard suffer…

Everything he had done was over now.

Finally…

…

Chi carefully helped Kurogane waddle out of the mildewed house. Hideki and Xing-Huo split the weapons and First-Aid kit between them and humped those outside to the trunk of the patrol car. Yui carried Sakura in his arms gently, admiring the fall of caramel hair around her face and the determination in her lips. She really was a beautiful girl, inside and out. He had wrapped her beautiful coat, which had been discovered under the bed, around her over Syaoran’s shirt. The rest of her clothes were missing. Syaoran, dressed in only his jeans slung low on his hips so that the tops of the tattoos were visible and the one on his chest was clearly displayed, was half-awake. Fai had an arm around his shoulders, guiding him and trying to keep the heat in his body.

Then, they all piled into their cars.

Hideki driving the cruiser with Chi riding shotgun and Kurogane in the backseat. Xing-Huo slide behind the wheel of the minivan with Fai in the passenger seat, taping a heavy bit of gauze around and around his injured hand. Yui sat behind him with Syaoran and Sakura was laid securely in the very back seat.

The snow drifted down in thick fluffy flakes. On the horizon, dawn was breaking.

Figure on probably two more chapters unless something strange happens.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 39: Aftershock: Several People

Chapter Text

WOW!!!!!

They spent almost anywhere from full week to two days in the hospital, respectively. Fai had to stay for a week. Apparently the wound to his hand was far worse than anyone had expected. The bones and tendons had been severed and would be slow-healing. Sakura and Syaoran were in for four days, suffering from painful but mild sexual injuries and a mild concussion in Syaoran’s case. With heavy painkillers, they went their separate ways. Syaoran went to stay with Xing-Huo for a few days, avoiding Kurogane, and Sakura went back to her apartment. There really was nothing to fear this time. Kurogane was in for two with a mild concussion.

There was a lengthy investigation surrounding the death of Cassandra and Fei-Wang Reed. Cassandra’s death was quickly acquitted to Fei-Wang before everyone else even arrived. Fei-Wang’s death, though clearly in self-defense with the wounds on Syaoran and Sakura, was a shoo-in. Sakura’s vagin* had been stretched brutally and Syaoran had a big bruise on his chest from the press of the gun against him. The real problem was the presence of the cops in the room and the fact that they had done nothing to save Fei-Wang. Police were there to protect and serve and Chi, Hideki, and Kurogane (though he had been grudgingly released on account of his concussion) had certainly not protected or served.

Kurogane was asked to step down from his position as chief, though they could all stay on as lowly officers. Chi elected to quit, choosing to stay home and paint and take photographs. She was content and happy. Hideki stayed on, coming home to Chi at the end of the day. He planned to ask her to marry him shortly. Sakura helped him pick out a ring.

Kurogane, grudgingly and guiltily, stepped down and left the force. Neither Syaoran nor Sakura ever mentioned what he had done to them or brought up any charges. They never told Fai or Yui, never told Chi or Hideki or Xing-Huo. The thought of what he had done sometimes kept him up at night, other times the memory of Syaoran beneath him made him f*ck Fai all the harder, once he masturbat*d to the memory of the sounds but was so sick afterwards. Guilty of the cruelest offense, raping two beautiful kids, one of them his adopted son, Kurogane went free.

Yui and Xing-Huo started dating, not seriously at first, but they soon developed a deep romance. Xing-Huo had been through Hell and so had Yui. They would never hurt each other and would always be respectful and careful. Fai cried when he found out that they loved each other. He cried harder that same day when Hideki proposed to Chi, but blamed it on cutting onions for their replacement Christmas dinner almost two weeks after their ordeal.

Life was good and safe, finally.

…

Syaoran asked Sakura to go out with him on a real date shortly after the Christmas dinner Fai had held to replace the one that had been ruined on account of Sakura being Sakura by Fei-Wang. He had been nervous, fidgety, and finally plucked up the courage to just ask her. Sakura smiled her beautiful glowing smile and agreed readily. Since Syaoran was open mouthed and gasping, she also chose a nice restaurant and suggested returning to her apartment to watch a few movies. Then, it was Syaoran’s turn to agree. Red-faced, but joyous, they timidly linked hands.

Syaoran walked her to her apartment door, still holding her hands gently. It was new and shiny and stood out among the other old doors. It felt like everything that had happened had happened so very very long ago. He heaved a deep sigh.

“Syaoran, is something wrong?” Sakura asked.

He looked into her face, her beautiful face and her shining emerald eyes, and could honestly smile for the first time in a long time. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Everything is wonderful.”

Sakura smiled, too. “Would you like to come in?”

“No, I’ve got to hustle on back to Xing-Huo’s. She’s probably wondering what happened to me as it is,” he said and smiled with a slight shake of his head. “Maybe next time… like Friday…”

Sakura grinned at the prospect of her date with him. “I’d like that,” she said.

Nervously, Syaoran gripped her elbow and held her, preventing her from going inside just yet. “Sakura, I… um…” he whispered.

She slid her hand over his chest and laid it lightly over his heart, over the tattoo. He shied a little, still ashamed of the marks on his body, his beautiful body. Sakura shushed him and gently put her other hand on his narrow waist. Carefully, slowly, she pulled his frame against hers and wrapped her arms around him. Emboldened, Syaoran dipped his head and kissed her cheek. The brush of his lips was so delicate and tender that she almost mistook it for the touch of a butterfly. She tilted her chin, keeping their foreheads touching and their noses near, and encouraged him wordlessly to kiss her. His lips were satin-soft and his kiss was timid and gentle. Sakura deepened it, pouring her heart and her love for him into their first connection. His body relaxed and she melted into his arms.

For what felt like an eternity, they stood in front of her apartment, molded to each other and deeply in love.

Then, another door opened somewhere in the hallway and they pulled apart. Sakura’s elderly neighbor, an old woman with too many cats, shuffled past them and smiled knowingly.

Flushing pink, Syaoran stepped back from Sakura, still carefully holding her fingers in his hand.

Sakura was smiling and her eyes were glowing. No, she was glowing. “That was…”

Syaoran didn’t want to hear. He interrupted, “So, I’ll see you Friday, Sakura,” and hurried quickly away. He hustled into the elevator with the old woman and pressed the down arrow. Sakura waved cheerily at him as the doors peeled shut.

“…amazing…” Sakura finished quietly.

She touched her lips with the tip of her finger. It was an amazing wonderful kiss, tender and careful, loving and beautiful. Her knees felt like jelly and her stomach filled with light fluttering butterflies like Syaoran’s first kiss on her cheek. Still glowing pink and smiling, she ducked into her apartment.

…

Syaoran unlocked Xing-Huo’s apartment with his very own key on a pink rabbit-foot keychain. He didn’t really care for the dyed lucky charm, but Xing-Huo positively adored it. Yui had given it to her only a few days ago, but Syaoran needed a keychain, she insisted.

“Xing-Huo,” he called and jiggled the key out of the sticky old lock. “I’m back.”

Xing-Huo and Yui flew apart on the couch and Xing-Huo wiped her mouth. “Syaoran, I didn’t think you’d be home for a while yet,” she said and glanced at Yui.

The blonde nodded. “I said you’d probably stay with Miss Sakura for a while.” He sat up and wrapped an arm around Xing-Huo’s shoulders in a brief hug before rising from the couch. “I, on the other hand, had better be getting back to Fai’s.” He didn’t kiss Xing-Huo goodbye in front of Syaoran, but they shared a loving and passionate look that did not go unnoticed by the young man. “Honey, I’ll catch up with you,” Yui said and then left.

A clocked ticked somewhere in the apartment and the faucet in the kitchen dripped into a mug of watery coffee. The apartment was wrapped in quiet, a comfortable silence between two people who had been through a lot together.

“Xing-Huo,” Syaoran began. “I never really thanked you…”

She raised a slender dark brow and her purple eyes brightened with attention.

“…for helping us escape him the first time. I always knew it was you who got us out and after that you tried to bring him down,” he continued. “So, I just wanted to thank you…”

Xing-Huo rose from the couch, crossed the space between them, and put her arms around him. His body was bony and as slender as her own. His heartbeat was even and strong. Syaoran had always had a powerful heart. Xing-Huo let her eyes slide closed and inhaled the scent of him around her. He smelled of Sakura, of blossoms and clean linen and vaguely of hospital. She smiled sadly, softly, like a white moth in the dead of night.

Syaoran wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. He was a head taller than her, even for the years she had on him, and she was tremendously lean. Her frame was strong and firm with muscles and generously curved with feminine features. Some curls tickled his face and her felt her long eyelashes flutter against his chest through is shirt. She smelled of soap and detergent and cleanliness. Xing-Huo with the cleanest sheets who allowed no one into her bed. Even Yui slept on the couch regardless of their romance.

Fei-Wang had messed them all up so badly…

But, that was all over now… all over…

Syaoran tightened his grip on her slender frame. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Without you, I never would have met Sakura. I would have been stuck there forever.”

Xing-Huo shuddered. “No, Syaoran,” she whispered. “I have no doubt that you would have escaped even without me. You would have found Sakura. You have a beautiful strong heart and a wonderful kind soul. You would have escaped with Chi. You would have.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about Kurogane, about what the policeman had done to him and Sakura, but he bit it back. Everything was settling down and there was no need to haunt her with more sick terrible memories.

Let sleeping dogs lie.

Syaoran hugged her once more and then pulled back.

Tears glimmered in Xing-Huo’s violet eyes. It was as if she knew already, but if she did, she didn’t say anything either.

“I asked Sakura on a date this Friday,” Syaoran told her hoarsely.

She beamed through her tears. “I’m so very happy for you,” she said cheerfully.

Syaoran smiled as well and they went to sit on the couch. Late night television consisted mostly of infomercials. Syaoran fell asleep within moments.

Next to him, Xing-Huo stared at the smooth handsome sleeping face of her brother. Then, she cautiously leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Syaoran,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’ve finally found happiness. Sweet dreams…” She covered him up and turned off the television.

Then, in the dark, she went to bed and slid between her blessedly crisp cool clean sheets.

…

Fai was a little concerned that Yui was in the house somewhere, but he wouldn’t have stopped Kurogane’s actions for the world.

Fai was pinned under Kurogane, whimpering and writhing with the force of his lover’s thrusts. Kurogane was being especially hard and fast tonight, not that Fai was complaining. The blonde gripped the sheets in his white-knuckled fists. He moaned as Kurogane’s huge fat co*ck pounded his sweet spot over and over. Kurogane laved attention on the exposed column of Fai’s white throat, suckling and nibbling the pounding pulse. His tongue flicked out with the same rhythm as his plunging erection.

“K-Kuro,” Fai panted and gripped his broad shoulders.

Kurogane was flushed with a memory of Cassandra, of ripping her body apart on his co*ck. He didn’t look into Fai’s wide red-rimmed blue eyes, he couldn’t. Her whimpers and cries echoed loudly in his ears, a memory that drowned out the slap-slap of his balls against Fai’s thigh and the moans of his lover.

“What?” he forced out gruffly.

A particularly deep and hard thrust pressed all the air from Fai’s lungs and he lay gasping for a moment. Then, he dug his fingers into Kurogane’s shoulders and lifted his legs so that Kurogane plunged directly up his ass with no obstacle. His free had wrapped around his own hard co*ck and jerked it in sync with Kurogane’s thrusts.

Kurogane batted the hand away and wrapped his own fingers around Fai’s throbbing length. Fai groaned and his blue eyes slid closed. Kurogane felt his twitch and stiffen and then a rush of warm stickiness washed over his chest and arm. He put the sticky hand to Fai’s mouth and the blonde licked it sensually, gasping and moaning. Kurogane came inside of his lover and allowed his co*ck to soften before pulling out of the tight wet heat.

They lay beside each other on the bed.

Fai was touching him, stroking a path up and down his chest. Kurogane pretended to be asleep.

“Kuro?” Fai whispered in the darkness.

The big man grunted.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been a little closed off since we took out Fei-Wang. Did something happen before we arrived?” Fai thought back to Syaoran and Sakura’s skirting gazes, of Syaoran moving in with Xing-Huo abruptly after the rescue, of Sakura’s nervous filling chatter. “Kuro, what happened?”

I raped my kid and used the kid to rape the girl, Kurogane thought to himself. He was disgusted and angry. He wanted to snap at Fai, but it wasn’t Fai’s fault. It was his own: a product of his complete lack of self-control and desire for Syaoran’s sexy body.

Part of him desperately wanted the act off his chest. He wanted to tell Fai, to confess and cry at the horror of what happened, but suffering like this was what he deserved. After all, he had committed such a terrible sin and was getting off scot free like to many other rapists and sexual predators. The victims were silent, the crime attributed to something else, the tears hidden, and cries quieted. It was a terrible thing, but it was a small and unknown crime. So many people got off, so many kids were f*cked, so many sick horrible people were out there…

“No, nothing happened,” Kurogane said to Fai and rolled over.

And Kurogane was one of them…

It was then that Kurogane decided to put a stop to that. He could go under the radar and pick off the sickos. All he would have to do was walk the street and look for the signs and then follow them to be sure. Once he knew, he could kill them. He used to be a cop so he knew all the little hidey-holes in the grungy city and all the back alleys.

He would never be able to make up for what he did to Syaoran and Sakura, or even the slu*tty bitch Cassandra, but he might be able to stop some other rats from f*cking innocents before they got started on their lifelong disgusting prowl.

Closing his eyes, Kurogane rolled over again and wrapped Fai in his arms.

The blond sighed.

Soon they were both asleep and Kurogane had no dreams of what he had done.

Yeah, yeah. I know, Kurogane is so messed up, but I wanted to hit the awareness that so many people get off after they’ve assaulted or molested or raped somebody. The victim doesn’t come forward. So that was the whole purpose of that.

The next chapter will be the last and probably just senseless fluff and lemons for Syaoran and Sakura.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Chapter 40: Epilogue: Italian Food & Candlelight

Chapter Text

Last chapter. How sad, yes?

Syaoran picked Sakura up promptly at seven for their very first date. He was nervous and a little light-headed, unsure of himself and painfully conscious of everything that could go horribly wrong. He had a petite bouquet of pink and white apple blossoms wreathed in plump green ferns for Sakura, but what if she would have preferred roses…? He had pressed his soft shirt with Xing-Huo’s iron, but what if he had ironed the creases in the wrong places? What if she laughed at him when she opened the door and said it had all just been a game…?

For several seconds, Syaoran fidgeted outside her apartment, unable to gather enough courage to knock. Finally, he told himself sourly that he was being silly, and knocked firmly twice. The bang was solid and loud and sharp against his knuckles. When he glanced down at his hand, he saw that he had been a little too vigorous with his knocking. The skin on his knuckles was broken and bloody. He bit his tongue against the little prickle of pain and brought his hand to his mouth.

This door was much harder and stronger than her old one. He was glad she was safe in her apartment now.

With Fei-Wang dead, everyone was safe now. Even her, even him…

Sakura pulled open the door in a split second while he was still sucking the broken skin on his knuckles. “Syaoran,” she said cheerfully with a bright warm smile. Then, she saw his bleeding hand at his mouth and gasped. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Syaoran said quickly and shoved his hand behind his back. He smudged blood in a thick smeary red layer all over the back of his cream-colored dress shirt. He felt the wetness through the cloth on his skin.

Sakura saw it, too. “Nonsense! Come inside,” she said. She pulled his hand from behind his back, led him into her apartment, and immediately to the kitchen. She turned on the faucet and shoved his hand under the cold running water.

He hissed and scarlet swirled away down the drain like the vestiges of a nightmare. Sakura shut off the water and patted the wound with a paper towel. It was superficial, but in an inconvenient place. Every time he moved, the skin would break open again and start bleeding anew.

She sighed. “Stay here while I get a bandage,” she told him and hurried off.

Syaoran was left standing in the kitchen, thinking of the mess he had already made of this date. And just by knocking on her door, no less! He looked at the flowers and then groped behind his back at the wet blood on his shirt.

Sakura bustled back into the kitchen, took his injured hand, and deftly wrapped it with a nurse’s kind and practiced hand. Then, she secured the end of the gauze with a bit of white tape and stepped back to look at him.

A flush heated up his cheeks and Syaoran couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Here,” he said and thrust the flowers into her arms. “These are for you.”

Sakura was bait taken aback by his gruffness, but put the flowers to her face and inhaled the pleasant scent of apple blossoms. “They’re beautiful, Syaoran,” she said gratefully and wrapped her arms around him in an awkward flowery hug. “Thank you…”

A few petals caught in the end of her short honeyed tresses. Without thinking, Syaoran brushed them away.

“Does your hand hurt?” she asked. “We could stay in and order some Chinese instead if you’d like.”

Syaoran stared at her and she was so beautiful. She was wearing short white pleated skirt with a ribbon around the lower hem, a pale purple blouse with some ivory embroidery on the collar, silver earrings and a silver choker bearing a single crescent moon, and warm white boots. He lightly touched her face, clean of makeup and finally bare of bruises.

“You’re very kind, Sakura,” he said softly. “Whatever you’d like…”

She blushed at the look in his amber eyes. “Let me get my bag,” she said and scuttled quickly away. She returned with her shoulder bag and a heavy leather jacket to hide the blood on his shirt. Wordlessly, he shrugged it on and took her hand. Then, she pulled on the beautiful winter coat he had given her. It had been washed but still smelled a bit strange, but Sakura was unwilling to get rid of it.

Outside, the chill and gloom of winter was abetting. The sidewalk was dry and clear of snow and ice for the first time in weeks, in months, in what felt like years. Syaoran breathed in the nippy air and Sakura sighed contentedly beside him. She caught his hand and squeezed it. Her palm was warm and dry.

They smiled as they walked the few blocks to the red and green striped awning of Sakura’s favorite Italian restaurant. Syaoran held the door open for her, the perfect gentleman, as always. The restaurant was a classic cheesy knock off. It had trellises full of thick vines and fake purple grapes, paintings of white and red villas and vineyards, white staring busts leaned out from several places, and an entire wall was dedicated to a wine rack filled with dark green bottles. The smell of tomato and garlic was thick and rich in the air. Couples crowded in booths, whispering and laughing quietly. The atmosphere was subdued and relaxed, quaint. The lighting was poor and slightly smoky with candlelight.

Syaoran had to sway a moment before his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Sakura was already headed for a corner booth under a glowing smeary painting of an Italian villa surrounded by rolling hills and grapevines. She was unfolding the crisp white napkin on her plate when Syaoran hurried over to her.

She smiled warmly at him and reached across the table to touch his hand. “Does it hurt?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

Sakura smiled again and opened her menu. A cheesy fat man in a chef’s hat grinned broadly at Syaoran when the menu blocked his view of Sakura’s beautiful face. He lifted his own menu and looked over the entrees and drinks.

“Should we order a bottle of wine?” Sakura asked.

“Sure,” Syaoran murmured.

“Red or white?”

“I like white.”

“So do I.”

Sakura smiled. “What are you having?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“They have wonderful lasagna and co*cktail meatballs here,” Sakura offered. “I think I’ll have some pasta with Alfredo sauce.” She laid down her menu so that the flame on the candle flickered and almost went out. “Oops,” Sakura said sheepishly.

Syaoran smiled. “That sounds good,” he said and laid his menu down, open, in front of him.

They sat in comfortable silence until a waitress strolled over to them. She had her eyes on Syaoran, but to her credit, she didn’t make a pass at him. Syaoran was a good looking guy and most ladies that passed him by on the street stared. The waitress was able to focus.

“Hi, my name is Tomoyo and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Yes, please. We’ll have a bottle of Chianti and how about some mozzarella sticks, Syaoran?” Sakura asked.

He nodded, watching the glowing white shape of her face over the candle. He was oblivious to Tomoyo’s stares. “Whatever you want,” he said.

“We’re ready to order now,” Sakura continued. “I’ll have the Alfredo with shrimp. Syaoran?”

Tomoyo’s eyes snapped from Sakura to Syaoran and stayed there.

“I’d like the co*cktail meatballs, please,” he said politely and smiled as he handed her the menus.

“Marinara or meat sauce?” she asked habitually.

“Marinara,” he said after a moment’s pause.

“Alright, I’ll be right out with that bottle of wine,” she said with a flirtatious smile and scurried off.

Sakura touched Syaoran’s hand over the table, fingertips lying between his knuckles. “I think she’s quite taken with you,” she told him with a grin.

Syaoran felt a flush creep up his cheeks, heating his face. “Well, she came too late,” he said and caught Sakura’s hand in his. “My heart has been taken.”

Over the candle, Sakura’s eyes glittered and shone.

Tomoyo returned with a bucket of ice and two crystal wineglasses. She uncorked the bottle with a flourish for them, poured them each half a glass, and set it back in the bucket. “I’ll be back shortly with your appetizer,” she said.

Sakura took a sip of wine and let it rest on her tongue a moment, savoring it. Heat flooded her chest and settled in her stomach. Her legs felt weak, as if her thighs were sponges soaking up the wine. A second sip only increased the fluttery feeling in her chest and thighs.

Syaoran took a long swallow and coughed. He took another careful sip.

They stared at each other in the smoky darkness. The wineglasses caught the light and shimmered like misplaced stars. Sakura smoothed her napkin across her knees, touching the heated bare skin with the tips of her fingers. She still elected not to wear pantyhose even though winter still held on tightly. Under the table, she brushed her knee against Syaoran’s hand, accidentally. A small flush colored his throat and he swallowed.

He took another sip of wine.

So did Sakura. Her thighs quivered.

She brushed her knee against his leg and then let it rest there. For a moment, she felt his fingers hesitating against her bare skin. Then, he smoothed his palm over her naked skin, relishing the satin-soft texture and heat of her.

“Sakura,” he whispered hoarsely.

His fingers slid under the bend of her knee and lifted her leg a little. Sakura felt a tremor run through her, something sensitive lurked beneath her skin. She moaned quietly and gripped the table. Syaoran rubbed his thumb on her skin in small experimental circles, feeling her writhe beneath his careful touch.

For a moment, he understood why Fei-Wang enjoyed seeing people writhe and moan in horrified disgusted pleasure.

The instant that thought ran through Syaoran’s head, he snapped his hand away.

Sakura whimpered at the loss of contact and her eyes cracked open. The emerald was slightly glazed, but there was nothing but love and arousal in her eyes. She loved him. She loved his touch, loved everything about him.

“Syaoran…?” She whispered.

“Nothing,” he said quickly and folded his hands neatly in his lap. Sakura brushed their legs together a few more times, but Syaoran didn’t respond.

Tomoyo brought a plate of deep fried mozzarella sticks to the table, glanced at Syaoran who had grown a little pale, and then at Sakura who was also staring fixedly at him.

“Tomoyo,” Sakura asked. “Could I have a glass of water?”

Tomoyo nodded and hurried off.

Sakura ran her finger around the rim of the wineglass. “Syaoran,” she began. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m scared, too, but I don’t want to push you. All I can say is that, I like you very much and I won’t ever hurt you.”

Syaoran dipped his head so she couldn’t see his eyes and sipped his wine delicately.

Tomoyo returned and set the glass of water in front of Sakura. “How is everything here?” she asked.

“Is our food going to be up soon?” Syaoran asked suddenly. His voice was a little strained.

Sakura’s heart fell and Tomoyo looked shocked.

“I can hurry it along, if you’d like,” the waitress offered.

He nodded.

Sakura make a hoarse sound in her throat, but covered it by greedily drinking from her water glass. She didn’t want to pressure Syaoran or make him feel bad, even though her heart was falling behind her ribs like a broken bird.

Syaoran glanced at her through his bangs and knew that he had blown it.

They finished their meal in under half an hour and in silence.

…

Syaoran walked Sakura to her apartment and waited until she opened her door and turned to say something to him before making his move. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. She was stunned, lips slightly damp and pink and parted with surprise. Syaoran kissed her mouth, sliding his tongue into her and drawing it into a dance. She moaned, wrapped her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him backwards into her apartment.

The door fell closed.

Sakura’s back touched the wall and she arched against Syaoran’s chest. She pulled his face closer to hers and her legs trembled. Moist heat was pooling between her thighs and she began to shiver. Syaoran pressed against her, still dominating the kiss with a desperate ferocity that almost frightened her.

“Please,” he whispered against her mouth.

Sakura couldn’t speak. She was too lost in the kiss, but she sensed his sudden terror.

“Please, I’m so sorry,” Syaoran begged and gripped her shoulders. He crushed her to him.

Sakura’s breath exploded from her lungs.

Syaoran pulled back with a start.

Her lips were swollen from his intense kiss and crystals had welled up on her lashes. Her entire body was trembling.

“I’m so sorry, Sakura, I’m sorry,” he whispered and turned to flee.

Sakura grabbed his wrist and yanked him back to her firmly. Shocked, he stumbled into her body, pinning her to the wall. Her breath was warm and rushed over his face.

“Sorry for what?” she demanded.

“I messed everything up at the restaurant,” Syaoran said desperately and tried to free himself from Sakura.

She only tightened her grip on him. “What?” she asked.

“I messed it up. I hurt you,” Syaoran whispered. He couldn’t look at her, but looking at her floor was no better.

“Syaoran, I don’t understand…”

“When I was touching you, I thought I was becoming like that man. I got scared and I just wanted to leave,” he confessed.

“Oh, Syaoran,” Sakura murmured. She pressed a kiss to his throat and then to his mouth.

He melted into her kiss, wrapping his arms around her desperately.

“You will never be like him,” she cooed. “Never…”

Syaoran nodded.

She sounded so sure.

It had to be true.

Sakura’s lips parted for him and her tongue darted out, enticing him to play.

She was his angel, always there for him, reassuring him through all his doubts. He wanted to make her feel good.

Syaoran lifted the hem of her skirt and touched her center through her panties. She tightened her arms around him and moaned so loudly he feared her hurt her for a moment until she lifted her leg to give him better access. He lifted that leg over his hip and guided her to rest it there.

Then, he touched her again. She was wet and hot even through the thin layer of cotton. He pressed experimentally at the dip in the center of her and she moaned. Her hips bucked and twisted, trying to get him closer. Smiling against her kiss, he slid the cotton panties aside and pushed one finger into her. She was tight and soaked. Her muscles clenched and milked the intruding digit and she gasped in his ear. Her arms tightened around his neck, pressing him deeper into the kiss.

Sakura moaned at the feel of Syaoran’s finger inside her. The feeling of impaling herself on the fake co*ck, or of Touya licking and sucking her, or of Kurogane forcing Syaoran’s co*ck into her ass was nothing like what she was feeling now. Those had been the worst best feelings. This was heaven on earth, the best and most wonderful.

“Syao… ran…” she groaned as his thumb touched her cl*t and swirled in a circle. “Bed… room…” she panted.

Smiling, Syaoran lifted her to that her legs automatically wrapped around his hips and carried her to her bedroom. It was neatly made with a few decorative pillows strewn across it. Syaoran laid her back against them. She looked so beautiful with her pale caramel hair spread out around her head like a halo and her green eyes all glassy.

Sakura shrugged out of her long coat and then reached for him. Syaoran came into her arms and kissed her deeply. His hips fit neatly between her legs and he felt her hands at the small of his back, pressing him against her heated core. She moaned in his ear.

Syaoran hesitantly lifted the hem of her shirt and she raised her arms to help him. The shirt peeled easily over her head and Sakura impatiently went for the front hook of her bra. She let it fall from her shoulders and then pulled Syaoran to her again.

He whispered against the curve of her throat, “Can I…?”

“Whatever you want,” she gasped out.

His warm hands cupped her breasts and gave her hard raised nipples a little tweak. She moaned and arched against his hands, filling his palms. Syaoran feathered his lips against the swell of cleavage, lowered one hand, and fastened his lips to her nipple. His tongue laved attention and then gave a little nip that made Sakura gasp and writhe in pleasure.
His fingers ghosted over her exposed stomach and unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt. He was working it down over her hips when she slid her hands beneath his shirt and pulled it up. Protesting, he lowered her hands.

“Please, Syaoran, I want to see you,” she whispered. “You’re beautiful…”

He relented and allowed her to strip off his shirt and then unbutton and unzip his jeans. She used her toes to pull them down his hips while he peeled her skirt down her thighs. They admired each other in only their underwear and Sakura sat up to kiss Syaoran again.

He pressed his naked skin against hers and she mewled and moaned.

Again, he wrapped his hands around her breasts and feathered a burning path of kisses down her midsection. For a moment, he paused to dip his tongue into her belly button and hear her sharp intake of breath. Then, he let his hands follow the path he had made, pulled down her panties, and gently spread her thighs.

She squirmed, slightly embarrassed, but Syaoran’s warm fingers spreading her outermost lips distracted her from that little discomfort. His tongue drew a long slow lick at her very core and she cried out in bliss. He pushed a finger into her and then a second, trusting gently and always striking her sweet spot. His teeth nipped at her cl*t and she moaned.
Sakura threaded her fingers through his chocolate locks and pulled him up to her mouth. When she kissed him, she could taste herself on him.

Using her toes, she pushed down his boxers and then rolled him over. His co*ck was full and large, larger than she had expected for the thinness of his body, and velvet-soft in her hand. She stroked the weeping head and glanced at him.

His amber eyes were closed.

Sakura wrapped her mouth around him and he inhaled deeply. His co*ck twitched in her mouth and hand while she suckled experimentally.

Syaoran slid his hand between her parted thighs and pressed two fingers into her again. She moaned, pushing her hips down to meet his thrusts. She found her mouth automatically following the rhythm he set. Suddenly, his dick seized in her mouth and a rush of hot salty liquid rushed down the back of her throat. She pulled back and coughed.

“I’m sorry,” Syaoran said. “I should have said something…”

“It’s okay,” Sakura said and coughed a few more times. “I’m alright.”

He rolled over, pinning her beneath his body. “Would you like to be on top?” he whispered kindly.

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Be gentle, okay?”

He nodded and kissed her deeply, passionately, when he slid into her. He stifled her small shout of agony as her muscles stretched to accommodate him. He didn’t move while she writhed, trying to adjust and get comfortable. Finally, she pushed down to get him deeper and he gave her his first thrust.

She moaned and suckled his throat.

He set a steady rhythm, filling her to the brim each time and setting of white sparks behind her eyelids at the intense pleasure she felt building in her womb. She touched the tattoo of a heart on his chest and kissed his mouth tenderly. He reached between them and teased her cl*t. Soon, Sakura forgot everything she had been thinking and was lost to the pleasure he sent coursing through her.

Syaoran was immersed in the feeling of her muscles wrapping gently around him, clenching him tightly and wet only for him. She moaned and mewled his name, asking and begging him to go faster or harder. She suckled and kissed his neck and mouth, drawing his tongue out to meet hers. He thrust his tongue into her mouth with the same rhythm as his length deep inside her.

Her muscled tightened and a rush of fluid filled her womb with heat.

Having Syaoran’s baby wouldn’t be so bad, Sakura thought as he pulled out of her. Her muscled clenched and held, wanting him to stay inside her.

Syaoran pulled own the blankets and slid beneath them with her. They lay, wrapped in each other, in her clean sheets.

“Sakura…”

“Hmm?”

“I,” he hesitated. “I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you, too.” Then, she kissed him again and was deeply asleep within seconds, wrapped in Syaoran’s arms and the scent of his skin.

Nothing could hurt them anymore.

They were perfectly and completely safe with each other.

They were in love and had been through a lot together. That bond could never be broken, not even if Hell froze over.

Sakura and Syaoran would always be safe with each other and that was all anyone could ever really ask for in this life…

And, drum roll please, we are finished!

Drop a review and let me know what you think! Are the characters way out of character? Does everybody hate Kurogane? Think I torture Syaoran way too much (but it's because he's so easy to be mean to, though I always make sure to give him a happy ending!)? Are permanently disgusted and can no longer even watch Tsubasa thanks to me? Loved it? Hated it? Are scared for life because of what happened to Syaoran? Think I need to do more editing before I post chapters? Post to slow? Chapters are to short? To long? Yada, yada, yada…

Thank you EmotionallyUnstableFangirl for the base idea. Did you like it? Was it everything you thought it would be?

Questions, comments, concerns?

And so, I bid you adieu.