Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Spectre ❯ Of all things empty... ( Chapter 2 )

~~Warning/Disclaimer~~ This is a sort of dark Fantasy fic that I'm writing. I'm having buku-fun, tho. :D It *is* yaoi, boy boy love et et. So, if you like to think you're mature enough to read the connotations between two male-humans, then by all means. Go ahead and read. I enjoy all and any feedback, mind you!! Lessee… This story is a legend, really…but I'm making it up as I go. …does that make sense?

Oh, and the cast and crew of Digimon doesn't belong to me. Yiru, and the creation of E'tailh DO belong to me, and I'd thank you kindly not to take them. I've worked hard on this, and ainokitsune can vouch.

*bows to aino* Sanku for the late-night hash-overs!! XD

*grin*

~Spectre~

:two:

Osamu wasn't surprised to hear the bell over the door jangle at four in the afternoon. He often got one or two customers about that time. He was mildly surprised to hear rapid footsteps, and frowned. He set the pencil upon his desk and closed the business ledger.

"Osamu?" came a familiar voice called, just shy of shouting. "Osamu, I need to talk to you!"

~Daisuke?~ Osamu thought in surprise. He stood abruptly, thinking in the next split-second ~He knows,~ and walked to the door of his office. He threw it open, and started-Daisuke was standing on the other side, arm upraised to knock.

"Yes?" Osamu said softly to cover up his shock.

Daisuke looked at him for a second as if he had forgotten something, and scrunched up his brows. "Umm…"

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Daisuke replied softly. His arm dropped slowly and searched his face with wide eyes. "I mean, I wanted to ask you something."

Osamu smiled gently, and stepped back. "Please, come inside."

~=~

He stood and gazed down upon the boy for a long moment, his eyes bright and gleaming in the shadows. Fingers clasped in front, the black and crimson robe exposing a lean winter-pale chest, he stood and watched. His colorless hair lay gleaming in soft waves to the middle of his back, small slender braids swinging in front. A sharp face cocked slightly, and a wide thin-lipped mouth tightened into a soft smile.

He went closer, stepping without sound, his leggings riding low on narrow hips. The long and wide sleeves, black and edged with crimson, whispered against his skin as he moved. Straps of thin and enameled leather crossed his upper shoulders, holding the clothing together, cold against his pale skin.

Drawing close, bending slightly, he reached out.

"Wake, child," a low amused voice whispered. Fingers, cold and dry, brushed against the boy's face. "Open your eyes to the world…"

Curled up in a loose ball on the ledge with padded cushions, covered with an airy fine-weave sheet of cotton, Ken stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He peered up at Yiru with a small confused frown, as if he didn't remember falling asleep. Yiru, with his ice-flecked green eyes, merely smiled his predator's smile down at him.

"What is it?" Ken asked neutrally, voice rough with sleep.

Yiru smiled, warm and inviting even though it never reached his eyes, and trailed fingers down Ken's exposed shoulder. "I merely wanted to wake you. How was your rest?"

Ken fought against a shudder and placed the well-practiced mask upon his face. "Well enough, Lord." Then he pushed himself up, avoiding Yiru's cold and deceptively gentle touch, and wriggled his way onto the floor. His back ached dully from sleeping in such a position, and the floor was icy under his feet. He ignored it, and ran fingers through his sleep-mussed hair, tidying it into place.

"What are the day's events?" he asked the demon over his shoulder, walking coolly in a rumpled and loose robe of dark crimson. The hem dragged into pool of fabric behind him, draping on his shoulders and hugging his hips where it was loosely belted. Yiru watched with a slight smile still upon his face, knowing that Ken knew he watched and gaining more amusement throughout. He didn't reply.

Reaching the paneled doors that served as a wardrobe, Ken opened them wide and looked within, mentally cataloging which outfit would serve for the day. He repeated his question, "Anything of importance?"

Yiru sprawled out into the residual heat left by the slim body of the boy, soaking in the rarity, and replied in a lazy drawl, "Nothing new, sweet. Must you get dressed?"

Ken was glad his face hid his expression of distaste and pulled out his favorite, a blue and white-edged tunic. After a moment of thought, he selected a loose pair of black trousers, and a loose white shirt to wear under it all. Then he stepped back and pushed the doors shut, looping the clothing over one arm. "So I will be able to go out and ride today?"

"You do not wish to stay inside with me?"

Ken worked the belt of his robe one hand, grimacing again, and kept his back to the demon. He took a moment in replying, his hand pausing briefly.

"It is rare to see the sun, Lord. I wish to feel it upon my face today."

~And get away from this for awhile,~ he thought inside, in a small corner of his mind, and yanked the belt open. The robe slid off his shoulders with a whisker of sound, sending shivers racing across his body as it dropped to the floor, leaving him standing nude. Vulnerable.

~Hate you.~

Yiru's gaze sharpened, greedy and suddenly alert. Fabric rustled as he slid slowly off the low ledge and moved towards the boy. "There are better things to have," he murmured.

Ken ignored the sounds of the demon coming closer, ignored his already-worn patience fraying a little more. He slipped the white shirt over his head first, wishing for added protection against Yiru's gaze, then bent and quickly stepped into his trousers. He forced himself to make his movements as casual as possible, even though he was used to doing this during the times Yiru was awake, and told himself to keep his calm.

~Stay, Kaizer. Just a little longer.~ Then, the blue and white fabric still looped around a wrist-sharp vibrant color to his eyes-he turned to face the demon with a neutral face. Yiru had come very close, poised to touch as Ken turned. His fingers trailed through the ends of Ken's longer hair, no lighter than a breeze, and fell away.

"Perhaps," the demon began.

"No," Ken said calmly.

~Don't touch me. Not now.~ he thought, and barely kept himself from shuddering as Yiru pressed cold fingers to his cheek in acceptance. Another part of the ritual. A small flicker of irritation, more and more common in these last few weeks, shone in those ice-chip green eyes. ~Not ever,~ Ken told himself again, and stepped away. The fabric was silken and slippery over his skin, tight and constricting.

~Never,~ a dark and emotionless voice agreed inside.

~=~

Osamu shut the door with a careful push, watching with nervous amusement as Daisuke fidgeted his way to the chair. "What's going on, Daisuke?" he asked.

The redhead looked down at his hands and sighed. "You're going to think I'm nuts," he said in a low voice, urgent and slightly strained.

"I doubt it," Osamu replied with a small smile. "I've seen some really strange things. Oh, would you like anything before we begin? Water? Tea?"

"Oh, hey, sure…" Daisuke looked around, and shuffled his legs. "Um…Tea is good. Any kind, it doesn't matter."

Osamu nodded, and exited the room without another word.

Daisuke took his time, settling back onto his chair and bouncing slightly. The room, Osamu's office, was slightly spacious and littered with framed pictures and degrees. The desk, wide and free of any cluttering papers, was a dark gleaming brown. Daisuke leaned forward, looking intently at a small pewter figurine of a dragon. It looked like a paperweight to him, and with the curiosity of a child, he reached out a hand to touch the cold metal.

~He's got a lot of cool stuff,~ Daisuke thought. He looked up to the shelves to see a line of leather-backed books, smelled the faint hint of ink and paper and tilted his head. ~He has to know more about the mirror-he practically said it was weird when I bought it….~

Twisting in his chair, he leaned slightly and peered around the edge of the door. Across the room full of oddities and furniture that poked out under dusty white sheets, and through a second doorway where a quite normal-looking kitchen was gleaming and sterile. Osamu walked back and forth, busying himself with the water and the tea mixture.

~He's all the way over there…he won't notice a thing…~

~Can't believe I'm doing this…I'm gonna get in so much trouble…~

Daisuke made a face and jumped up from the chair. He leaned over the desk, and began peering at the neat scrawls of writing on the few notepads, scanning with jumpy haste. ~Only in trouble if you get caught,~ a part of him whispered cheerfully. He didn't know why he wasn't searching through the text upon the shelves-just intuition.

~But Osamu's the type of person to notice dust out of place…~

He flipped up a few pages, looking back through them for anything, skimming for the word Mirror, and made a frustrated noise. Nothing. He skirted the desk and began sliding the drawers open, glancing at the files of business stuff, at receipts and transcripts, the neat and ordered file-system-

Still nothing.

~Dammit-there's gotta be something-~

~=~

Yiru raised a pale brow as the Kaizer swept restlessly around the room, finalizing his outfit with a few straps and loop of chain. Noticing this, the boy turned his head and asked, "What is it?"

"Is something bothering you?" Yiru asked in a moderate bored tone. "You're pacing."

"Does it matter that much?" the Kaizer whispered, his head bent as he smoothed fabric and tugged the blue over-tunic in place.

"With you everything matters." Yiru smiled slowly as the boy gave him a flat glance, knowing there was hunger in his icy eyes. He watched the boy-his own carefully structured creation-with a hungry sense of fondness, and propped a sharp chin upon a pale long-fingered hand. Long nails tinted slightly green tapped a smooth and pale cheek. Yiru watched his human boy stare restlessly out of the window, his hair tousled into spikes and the robes accenting the natural pale gold of his skin.

~My human,~ Yiru mused. ~Mine to do with whatever I please…I will never tire of such things…~

Absently, the Kaizer ran a hand through his hair and made a slight irritated face. Fascinated, Yiru rested long fingers against his pale skin and stroked absently. The boy rarely showed such emotion these days-and he rather missed the spirited young human he had lured into E'tailh. Yiru supposed he was rather eager to experience the pallid sun of this world, and smiled again in pleasure. Let him wait-the boy was still learning his place.

~My creation,~ Yiru thought. ~Mine and mine alone.~ Then he said, "Really, child-what troubles you?"

Shrouded indigo eyes-the likes that Yiru had never encountered in all of his thousands of years-slipped to meet his. The boy shrugged elegantly, his face once again expressionless. "There is nothing, Lord." Then he frowned delicately, as if to say Yiru was mistaken, and asked, "Why…do I not look the part? Is there something wrong with my clothing?" Then he twisted in place, looking down at himself with the same slightly distasteful look, and craned his neck to see.

If there was anything that Yiru could understand, it was vanity. Smiling indulgently, he rose to his feet again and strode towards the boy. "No," he said, and reached out to capture the chin between his cold long fingers. "You look exquisite, child."

A flicker of unease stirred in the shadowed depths of the Kaizer's eyes, but the boy didn't move, didn't pull away. "Really?" he asked with a touch of anxiousness. "Are you sure?"

Yiru smiled wider, flashing sharp white teeth, and curved his hand around to cup the smooth cheek. Hair tickled the back of his hand, but he ignored it as he drew the boy close. "You are always lovely to my eyes, sweet. Always."

The Kaizer watched him, masked and unresponsive but for the slight flicker to the eyes. Yiru was pleased. Experimentally he slid his other hand up so that he could cup the face with both hands, breathing in the human scent. He was pleased immensely when the boy didn't pull away at first-Yiru could never be sure if the boy would allow such things. One day he would dance away out of reach, no matter what he tried, while other days he allowed the briefest of touches. It made life interesting. Inhaling again, his eyes shuttered as he tasted the power…The power that flowed through the boy called to him, urging him forward. Yiru bent his head slowly, mouth parted. Such power…sweet and tempting and full of a richness that he had not tasted in over five thousand years…To taste such power, to take and feel it rolling through his body-

Then the Kaizer was pulling back with his slight wide-eyed look, what Yiru called his 'coy' look. The look that told Yiru he was pushing things too fast. The boy stepped back, and the demon allowed his hands to fall, reminding himself that it would be better to hold onto his precious patience a little while longer. Something given was ultimately better than something soured and taken by force.

"Go," Yiru murmured, and waved a hand. "Go and enjoy your ride. When you grow tired of that useless sun, return and we will practice some of the spells I showed you yesterday."

The Kaizer bowed, his mask never slipping, and left.

~=~

Something cold brushed his fingers, something too cold for the room, as Daisuke bent his hand to the back of the collection of files and papers. ~Bingo!~ he grinned a fierce smile, catching the edge of what felt like cold…leather?

He pulled it out, the coldness tingling against his fingers, and looked at his find, interested.

A leather-bound book, no thicker than his thumb, rested strangely heavy in his hands. ~Weird…it feels cold…~ he mused. He ran a finger down the metal-capped edges, feeling the uneven parchment sandwiched between. The pages themselves were fixed within by simple and thin leather threads woven to form a center-hold, pierced through the leather backing and tightened to hold the paper in place. In a way it was rather pretty, the leather oiled and supple, cracked only on the back where the constant use had worn the leather down, a dark and shining brown. It smelled clean, of ink and paper and a plain pleasing scent that spoke of libraries.

~This is so wrong,~ Daisuke thought with a mental wince. Then, unable to stop himself, he opened the book on the first page. He took care not to handle them roughly, and focused his eyes upon the text. Spidery tracings of strange-

~Words?~ Daisuke frowned, looked closer in disbelief. ~They don't look like-~

~Wait-~ he thought next. ~No, I can read this, it's just a little messed up…~

To Daisuke the words were twisted slightly, the letters themselves thin and close together and slightly askew. It hurt his eyes, as he struggled to make sense of the words, but he could read it.

To whoever reads this, whoever can-I have started this upon the day we found ourselves here. Drained and weak, nearly dead, Peir and I are the only ones to survive. The other three, Roric, Vea, Louve…are dead, killed by what we had to do.

The words were smeared faintly, as though something wet had been wiped off. Daisuke stared at the first lines of wording and felt an uneasy shudder pass through him. This didn't make sense-

~This can't be Osamu's,~ he thought. ~I've never heard names like that before. I've never…~ For a second his eyes wavered, and the inked words seemed to shimmer into jumbled nonsense.

A whistle from the kitchen made him jump guiltily. He looked up sharply, the leather-bound book clasped tight, waiting for the sounds of footsteps-

~Idiot,~ he scolded silently after a heart-stopping second. ~It's only the tea.~

But it was hard to quell his thumping heart and the sense that he shouldn't be reading this. That this was something private-and at the same time, something wouldn't let him stop. He looked down, at the next line and began to read.

Peir and I have decided to go our separate ways. We abandoned the Mirror-

~There it is!~ he thought in excitement.

-abandoned the Mirror to its fate-gods above how that burns to think of, after all of our hard work and sacrifice-but we have no other choice. We are strangers in this strange and overwhelming world, new and afraid and so vastly different…and yet, incredible that we are so alike.

Daisuke skipped through a blurred spot of script, skimming impatiently.

I can only hope that it remains unbroken, and sealed from the monster that ravaged E'tailh, my people and my world. How my hands shake as I write this, empty of everything I had but the tiniest Word to protect this from the wrong eyes. Even that fades, as I write. Soon I will be no more than the humans in this place, this Earth-

~Okay, that's really weird,~ Daisuke paused, and re-read the passage. "No way," he whispered. "No possible way…"

Then a line of text jumped out at him, bolder and stressed in uneven letters.

Someone must know.

~About monsters?~ he thought instantly, unable to help himself, and read on despite the uneasy fear in his stomach.

Someone-if reading this-must know that if the Mirror is ever unbound…the demon will try to find a way out.

There is always a way.

"What is this?" Daisuke asked the empty room, his hands shaking for some unknown reason. Tremors of some fine emotion, shock and fear and this discovery-a discovery that entailed such strange and unexpected things-strumming through his veins. He found himself shivering. ~Demon? Monsters? What the hell is going on?~

"Daisuke?"

Throat tight with a scream of surprise locked behind clenched teeth, Daisuke whirled in place, clutching the book to his chest. Osamu stood in the doorway, a faint amused look in his eyes, holding two cups of tea. Daisuke exhaled in a sudden relief, his heart pounding. ~Okay, not monster. Osamu.~

~Osamu?!~

~Oh shit,~ he thought, eyes widening as he looked down, the book in plain sight, the drawers opened. "Uhm…"

Osamu merely raised a brow, anger and curiosity mixing into exasperation, and gestured towards the chair. "Sit, please," he ordered-Daisuke could tell it was an order-and shut the door behind him. His voice was cold.

Daisuke scooted around the desk and sat without a word.

~I'm so dead…~

~=~

He barely noticed the high and arched hallways as he walked, barely noticed the elegant tapestries of faded color and the creamy reddish marble. His boots echoed through the empty hall, his clothes hissing as it slid into folds. He barely noticed, couldn't notice the architecture and soaring pillars that he had seen for the last two years, and felt his hands shaking in unstoppable tremors.

~Too close,~ his mind whispered in sick fear. ~Too close too close.~

Shuddering, he raised a hand by habit and brushed through his hair, then wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand. His skin felt slightly clammy to the touch, super-sensitive and cold. He was always cold.

~Calm down,~ a softer and darker voice murmured. ~Someone will see.~

With that Ken paused in the middle of the hall, beneath an unlit torch and tried to breathe slowly, his hands unconsciously pressing against his hips. ~I can't-too close-I have to get out-~

~Ken,~ the unruffled voice replied. A hint of anger touched the voice, reassuring and familiar. ~He will suspect, if you don't calm down…~

Ken bent his head, still shuddering. ~I know…~ he replied in a soft and scared little voice. ~I want to go home.~

~I don't want to be here anymore…~

Ken exhaled a sigh, unheard in the empty hollow place, and closed his eyes. No, it wouldn't do to panic now. Not after two years of patience and constant guile, not after two years of living with his heart in his throat, wondering if today would be the day Yiru emptied him of everything. Not when all Yiru was doing was testing him, pushing him to see how far he bent, how easily he broke.

He couldn't do this now. Not now. He had to play this game better than Yiru, play it with caution and daring and pray that he came out top. He just didn't know if he could hold on to the cliff's edge as it crumbled beneath him.

~We must move on,~ his protection whispered. ~I hear the servants coming.~

Ken nodded slightly, allowing his gaze to harden and lose the fear he knew was sparking along his body. He straightened without thinking, tossing his head high, and began to walk in a slower, deliberate pace.

~Outside,~ he thought. ~Away for a while,~ he thought, his hatred and fear and sick helplessness falling away under the guise of the Kaizer.

~…to think of him?…~

~Yes,~ he told the Kaizer with a small amount of shyness. ~To think of him.~

~=~

He risked a glance upwards as Osamu slid the drawers shut with his foot, placing the two cups of tea upon the cleared surface of the desk. Steam rose gently, as Daisuke watched. He fidgeted for a second, bouncing his legs up and down, nervous and waiting for the axe to fall. The book tingled in his hands, but he barely noticed.

Osamu merely glanced at him, his face expressionless, and began to organize his files into neat tidy stacks.

~He's not saying anything,~ Daisuke thought. ~Man-he must be thinking of how to kill me and cut me up into little pieces…~ Eyes big, he watched with his fingers tight upon the book and tried to stop moving.

Osamu pulled his chair around, sat, and rolled forward until he could rest his elbows upon the desk. Clasping his hands below his chin, he fixed Daisuke with a calm narrow glance. "May I ask what you were looking for?" he said in a voice tinged with controlled anger. "I wouldn't have thought to find you rummaging through my personal desk, confidential files, and the like."

Daisuke exhaled something that sounded like an apology, and sunk lower into his chair. He opened his mouth for a second, not saying anything, and ducked his head. "I just…I wanted to see if you knew something about the Mirror, but I didn't know if you were gonna tell me or not, so I thought I would just, you know, look around?"

He glanced up, trying for his best apologetic look. "I really am sorry…" ~Yeah, like that's going to help,~ he thought, and slouched further.

Osamu's eyes had narrowed. "What about the mirror?" he replied in a quiet whisper. "Was there something wrong with it?"

"Um…I don't know," Daisuke said. "It's…I mean-'' he paused to grimace, a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks. Then, slowly, "I hear someone talking in the mirror. And I came home once to find it turned around, facing the wall…"

"And you thought by digging through my stuff you'd find something that I wouldn't tell you?"

"'msorry," Daisuke mumbled.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Osamu replied quietly, his voice oddly bitter. He straightened, apparently done with the whole ordeal, and pushed his glasses up. He gave a pointed look to the book still clutched in Daisuke's hands, and his gaze hardened. "Besides, there's nothing in that book that would tell you about the Mirror. It's just an ancient manuscript that my father gave me. It's in excellent condition for such an old age, so it's very valuable-what?"

Daisuke was staring at him with a look of surprise. "What do you mean, nothing in it?" Confusion flickered across his face. "But-it does mention the Mirror-"

Osamu leaned forward, placed both hands upon the desk. His gaze was troubled and hard to read. "Daisuke…that manuscript is written in a language that remains undecipherable to this day…Are you saying you can read it?"

Daisuke nodded slowly, still confused, but slightly wary. ~No way, he's gotta be joking…~ "Um, I can read it just fine…Here, listen-" he said, and fumbled it open upon his lap. He flipped to the first page.

"Peir and I have decided to go our separate ways. We abandoned the Mirror to its fate-gods above how that burns to think of, after all of our hard work and sacrifice-but we have no other choice…" he read slowly, his finger following the line of script. "See? It's not-"

Osamu had looked away, his eyes shadowed behind the glasses. "Daisuke," he said softly. "I suggest you go home and take the journal with you. I want you to read through it." His face had gone very pale, and his voice full of warning. "Do you understand?"

Daisuke stared at him in bewilderment. ~What did I do?~ "But-"

"Go, Daisuke. Now."

"But-"

A hand slammed down upon the desk, sending a cup of the steaming tea jumping, spilling with a shattering crash onto the floor, and Osamu looked at him with a fierce and savage frown. "I said go, Daisuke. Go home and read the journal, and do what you will."

Daisuke swallowed, his eyes flickering to where the shards of the cup lay in spreading dark stains. Then up again. For a brief second they held each other's gaze, one scared and confused, the other pained and angry.

Then Daisuke leapt up and was out the door, running as if demons had appeared.

Osamu listened to the pounding footsteps, the sound of the door, the bell jangling violently, and the subsequent slam. He watched the drops of tea that had remained upon the desk soak in slowly, spreading like dark tears.

"Take care, Daisuke," he said quietly.

He knew, as he began pulling files away from the wetness, what Daisuke would find. He knew that the first part of the journal was indecipherable-but he also knew of the other entries near the back, and the story hidden within. He knew what might happen, he knew the risks…

~I hope he can pull this off…~

He knew the price.

~I hope he makes it back alive.~

~~Next chapter~~

Daisuke reads the book. Ken thinks a bit more on his life, and Yiru…well….Yiru is Yiru….XD