Part 12C- Silver Gardenias
[Version 2.0]

There were two seats left at the bar, and for the two assassins, they offered a clear 
view of the door.  Yuuji draped an arm over Omi's shoulders, and signaled for the 
bartender, then smiled and leaned in close to him as if they were whispering to 
one another.  In reality though, they were quietly exchanging observations about 
the room and its inhabitants.  

The beer landed on a the bar top with a wet clunk, and Yuuji shoved a couple of 
yen into the bartender's cracked, calloused palm.  As he drank, he took in the line 
of people who stood along with him, all mostly young, and apparently bored.  

Next to Yuuji, just one empty seat away, sat a boy with gold-tinted, stiffly gelled 
hair, who sported rings all around the rim of one ear, clad in skimpy denim 
cutoffs and a tight blue T-shirt; his black eyes had been highlighted with black 
kohl and inky shadow and mascara.  No one sat near him; no one seemed 
interested until a boy of about equal age broke from the crowd, and ran up to him, 
one not as pretty; all pink hair and black clothes.  

"Oi, Ryou!  Didja hear?  There's a party going down tonight."

"Oh?" Ryou murmured, not bothering to look his way.  

"Yeah!  I hear it might be a lively one."

He yawned.  "You said that last week, Jun, and you were wrong."

"Uh...yeah, well--this time I'm not."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm not!"

Ryou stared listlessly into his glass, swirling the remnants of his coke--which had 
been laced with whiskey by an accommodating passerby.  "So who is throwing 
this party?"

"Masa."

He averted his eyes from his glass and settled them upon his companion, wary 
interest highlighting his face.  "Shit.  Really?"

Jun nodded vigorously.  "Uh-huh!  And I heard anyone who wants to come can 
attend."

Ryou toyed with his glass for a moment, a scheming light brightening his dark 
eyes.  He banged his glass down on the table, and flashed Jun a grin.  

"When and where?"

"Starts at 9 sharp, at Silver."

Ryou cackled with anticipatory glee at that, and the two boys melted into the 
darkness, off to the exit.  Yuuji barely registered their departure. He spun his glass 
around on the bar top, and then turned to Omi, jerking his head in the direction the 
pair had gone.

"Did you hear that?"

***

Omi didn't answer at once, for he was contemplating his Sapporo and what 
lingered of it in his mouth.  Much more bitter that the Asahi he was used to, 
cleaner somehow.

And yet, before he even swallowed, he desperately wanted an Asahi.  Which was, 
as luck would have it, not stocked at the bar they huddled so near.  A hand fell 
against his hair then, one that made him jump.  The fingers left him when he 
started, and when he turned seeking them, he found only Yuuji.

Yuuji staring at him with the face of a boy who must tell his little brother their 
puppy has died, or admit to a room of his friends that he is ill.  His lover's heart 
had opened for him, 
and the boy reached over, taking his blond hair in his fingers and drawing him 
close enough to smell his skin over the tang of the alcohol.  And he kissed him on 
the lips, leaning against him once he had finished.

"Aaa, I did, Yuuji-kun," This spoken in a voice more fit for such gentle 
confessions as their rooms had known, rather than the crowded bar with it's young 
harlots.  "We could go.  After all, it would explain why there's no pattern..."

Only then did he draw away, eyes shining now with what ideas his mind had 
begun to stitch into being.  "If they've all been leaving and going somewhere else, 
and no one notices, or admits it, because no one wants to admit there ARE 
parties."

And he kept smiling, though it struck him only then... /This is almost too easy... 
there must be more to it./

***  

"Right, right!" Yuuji whispered, smiling and thumbing the curve of Omi's cheek. 
"And in a private setting, it'll be all the easier to spot likely targets, and spirit them 
away without anyone really noticing..." 

He saw the same excitement in Omi's eyes as he knew was in his own, and Yuuji 
gave him a pleased smile. They'd gotten a real break, and so soon! It was almost 
too good to be true. Never had anything come to a head so early for him in any of 
his other investigations. Yuuji figured there could be only one explanation for it. 

"You must bring me good luck." 

With a wink, Yuuji touched the side of his bottle to Omi's own, and took another 
long pull from it.  

"Come on," he said, taking Omi's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I feel like 
partying." 

***

"Me too!" Omi giggled, rising without his fingers beginning to part from Yuuji's, 
or his eyes from Yuuji's.  They left without any notice on anyone else's part save 
the bleakest of sideways glances on the parts of those elder men who perhaps 
would have cared to have followed him. 

They ran outside together, and the street below them still cracked with the water 
left behind from the earlier showers, though it was dark now, at least above in the 
always-starless skies, though not below, not among the streetlights and the gleam 
of the houses where the soap boys lived between dusk and dawn.  

He looked at his watch as he ran.  "Oh Yuuji!" he cried.  "It's nearly nine now! 
We'd better hurry!" And then another laugh.  "Or we'll be late to the party we 
didn't even know we were going to.  How silly!"

And then they were on the bike again, and the red lights all rushed by like fireflies 
of the wholly wrong color.  Spray darted over his ankles where it had not been 
first frightened away by other traffic, and Yuuji kissed his hand with his boozy 
lips.

At one of the signals they stopped for, he started to reach into his pocket after his 
comm, but Knight shook his blond head.

"He'd be mad, wouldn't he? Just mad all over again.  I'll leave him.  I'll be good..."

A drip from one of the crooks of the lights above splashed on his hat and made 
him shiver as with joy.

"Well, maybe not for you.  If this turns out to be the wrong place... can we stay? 
Just for awhile? I haven't gotten to dance with you yet."

***

"Well...I..." 

Yuuji frowned at the oily street, his conscience nagging at him to stick to their 
business and not put it aside in favor of playing. He couldn't just linger there, 
dancing and drinking and enjoying himself. Could he? 

He knew Youji probably wasn't sticking strictly to business at the bar he was 
staking out, So why shouldn't they have some fun, too?   

"All right," he said, patting the two hands around his waist. "If it turns out we're in 
the wrong place, we'll hang around anyway. We're in for some play time, I think." 

Omi hugged him tight, and held him thus until they spun onto the club's parking 
lot. Yuuji found a space for his motorcycle alongside a Bentley, which he 
whistled at appreciatively as he waited for Omi to dismount. 

No one stood outside the establishment, save for a uniformed doorman--done up 
in black and silver, just like the foil and neon sign over the chrome and glass 
doors. He swept his appraising gaze over the both of them as they approached, 
and let them through without a word, much to Yuuji's surprise. He was sure they 
would have to bribe or talk their way in. 

When they entered the club, however, he suddenly understood why they hadn't 
had to do either. The subtly-lit, all-black, silver accented room was filled with 
mostly young, attractive boys and men, most scantily clad. The rest, much older, 
businessmen types. 
Yuuji realized then that he'd been mistaken for a seller rather than a buyer, and he 
blushed, much flustered, and wrapped a possessive hand around Omi's elbow. 

"Stay close to me tonight," he whispered as he led the boy through the silver 
curtained doorway leading to the bar. 

***

"Yuuji!" Omi tittered, drawing his lover to the space just to the side of the spaces 
the door lead into.  "You NEVER have to ask me that twice."

While Knight rolled his eyes at him he took his own flit around enormous room 
they found themselves in.

If it was a room- he couldn't be sure the barrier he perceived far off in the velvety 
dove illumination was a wall, or merely the refracted rim of a grand pedestal put 
there for the most daring of the dancers.  Intention aside, there were dozens of 
lovely boys atop it, their ankles lost in silver smoke and the blue curling sprites of 
the joints their admirers below were savoring.  Bits of silver clothing, or clothing 
that at least looked silver in the wan light, would fall from it now and then; or bits 
of jewelry, or chains not quite to be called baubles. 

It took him a moment to realize those who had gathered atop the icy glass wave of 
the platform were stripping, and so blushing himself, he began to fear the fumes 
of the marijuana had already gotten to him.   Yet he could not look away.  Not 
from all those 
boys and the men below who would offer them flasks of glitter to coax them 
down and lead them to any one of the couches or the loose black velvet pillows 
strewn around their chrome legs.

One of the doormen peered inside through the open doors and tapping him on the 
shoulder before his lover had a chance to shoo him away.  "PSST!" he said with a 
smirk that was almost, but not quite, friendly, "You want one?"

"One of what?" he just had to ask, it was a curiosity. 

"Not been here before? Oh! OK.  Well then, it's on the house."

And he found himself holding a potion bottle filled with the metallic flecks and a 
fine, crystalline powder that smelled of coconut.  

"You want somebody up there, you give 'em that.  Or you trade it in to go 
yourself.  Hope you have fun."

"Ah... domo."

Just then, three men, one leaking the contents of one of the bottles all around him 
as if he had begun to dissolve on the hands of the air, came past, and asked if they 
could leave.  The doorman whistled and told them they could, and away they ran, 
two mortals and an angel who came down to earth just to skip over the manhole 
cover.

Yuuji, naturally, lead him away from the door after that, eyeing the bottle 
suspiciously.  

"Well," Omi began, explaining what otherwise would not have needed explained 
to anyone else there, "we might need it.  You never know."

Whereupon the second surprise Silver had to over found its way to him.  
Something rather heavy fell upon his foot, and he looked up to see what by all 
rights resembled a red-haired woman- the sort Boticelli might have gone for had 
"she" not been all in leather- silver and black with many zippers, or had a throaty, 
tempting male voice.  "Sorry about that!" he said then, stooping and taking up the 
bit of metal that had fallen to Omi's feet.  

He didn't get a good look at it, but he could have sworn he saw a bloody dog 
collar.

A second glance about the room found the customers below the ice island its 
always-frozen pillars were wearing them, regardless of how otherwise they had 
been clad. 

"What?" the drag queen laughed.  "That's the rage to-night! You should have been 
here for pocket vibrator night if you think THAT'S weird."

And then she was gone and someone leapt from the stage, his lost clothing 
hanging suspended in the air for a moment while the rest of him met so many 
waiting hands.

***   

"Shimatta," Yuuji gasped as he watched the boy be groped by the small cluster of 
men who sat directly in front of the stage. "What have we walked into?" 

Indeed, it was like observing wolves at meal time: The boy was passed around 
from man to man, kissed and fondled in turn, until he finally took a bottle from 
one of them. Those two, amid groans of disappointment from the others, got up 
and moved off to yet another side entry way--one marked by a pair of heavy, 
drawn curtains of white. All Yuuji saw when they stepped through them was a 
spin of colored lights. No music at all. 

"Good evening." 

Yuuji turned his gaze away and down, and found a boy of about thirteen standing 
at his side. He was dressed in the same silvery, skimpy garb as the ones on the 
stage, pupils dilated like an addict's. Yuuji's frowned.  

"Good evening." 

The boy performed a European-style bow, flourishes and all. "I am Miki." 

Yuuji nodded back, cocking a brow at Omi. "Reiichi." 

Miki nodded as well. "You're new here." 

"Um...Yes. Just in from Hokkaido--came to Tokyo on business." 

"Ah! That's our specialty--catering to the whims of tired businessmen. You'll find 
we have something for everyone." Another smile, and the boy looked them over 
with a suggestive smirk. "But, unlike your companion, you don't have any potion. 
That's too bad. I was going to ask you if you'd like to exchange it for my 
company." 

"Oh?" 

"Yes. I find you very attractive." He lay a hand on Yuuji's arm and began to pet it, 
until Yuuji drew his hand away from his sleeve.  Even then, he held it, for he 
didn't want the boy to leave just yet. 

"Well, how about I make a proposition?" he asked, leaning in close to Miki. "Why 
don't you show my friend and myself around, and, the first bottle of glitter I get, 
I'll give it to you? What 
do you say?" 

Miki ran a finger along the edges of his red glossed lips, as if considering. "I say 
yes," he replied, sliding that hand around Yuuji's arm possessively. "Now, which 
place would you like to see first?"

***

All the while of the conversation between his lover and the Silver boy, Omi had 
been searching himself for a touch of jealousy, some pocket of heat behind his 
eyes.  Some voice, some tremble in his palm as it readied to slap.  But he found 
none, only the empty swipes of his thoughts as they snatched after it.  

All that Yuuji gave his shining gaze was a curious nod.  One that made Miki pout 
the slickness on his oft-used lips.  

"Well," Omi began, snuggling up to Yuuji and still somehow over to the 
intoxicated and intoxicating waif before them.  "My friend and I, we're into... 
more exotic things."

Miki's frown went away then, and his smiled, almost genuinely, drawing his hand 
up through his dyed hair.  "You are? I'm so glad!  What kind of things?"

The young Weiss had a hundred answers ready, but in the end chose one that had 
not lived in his considerations before the moment it was uttered, or rather, 
stroked, for he ran his fingers over the younger boy's bloodied collar.  "Flavor of 
the week, just like you."

"OH! Oh, how FABULOUS! So what makes you happy is what isn't there the 
night before."

Just how much of the truth engendered his few simple, cloying words of reply had 
lost itself in the sirens of sweet things sold on street corners.  He nodded.

"Well then, let me take you to a few of the places they only have at Silver! A few 
of the wonders..." One half-bare shoulder jerked towards the stage.  "There's 
pleasure island of course.  You've got a bottle! You could go! I do every other 
day, it's so exciting.  I'm not really alive unless I've had some really great happa 
and gone up there to dance... guess I'm dead then on my off nights."

This uttered with a wink of all things, like he was proud of the fact he could live 
and die as he liked according to what was coursing in his veins, or not.

"We have a place like that at our club at home... you know, we're on *vacation*."

Although Omi couldn't really imagine another place such as the one he stood in, 
(he hadn't imagined one for starters!) Miki could, had probably been to even 
more.  And with a swing of his insubstantial hips he beckoned them over along 
the back wall, all the way through the swimming crowd to the other side of the 
transparent stage that vanished when the light struck it from the other side.  

"Now," their guide began, "The kink rooms are on rotation, so I don't know what's 
up tonight.  It's like a lotto, some things get picked, some don't.  But anything 
your heart desires, it's got to come up sometimes, not like outside."

/You weren't even in a place like this last night and still.../

/I was playing along.  I wasn't upset.  Yuuji decided I should be./

/You love Yuuji./

/I love Yuuji./

It made his heart ache so much, and before Miki's eyes he had kissed him on the 
neck to remind him.

Omi paused before one moaning curtain, catching whatever lay beyond in just the 
corner of his eye.  He didn't want to see more.  And he did.  He didn't want to run 
away, but he did.  He couldn't imagine putting himself on the stage, but... 

"Looks like 45, 22, 16, 13 and 9 are open," said Miki.

***

Yuuji tore his tracking gaze away from his lover, and tried to ignore the 
compelling noises which came from behind the curtain opposite them. He peered 
over Miki's naked shoulder at the posted list of rooms and their uses. 

/Non-con?/ The thought of witnessing such staged acts titillated him, and he was 
in fact inclined to go. But there was no way he was going to take Omi into such a 
place. The tea room was silently deemed as too boring; the bondage room he 
shied away from as well, as it was a group room, and he felt something like that 
should be private. 

Which left, of course, the dollhouse, and, the shota room too. At least there might 
be a lead or two to be gleaned, as much as the idea of seeing it sickened him--if 
Omi wanted to go in there, of course. 

"Which sounds good, baby?" Yuuji asked Omi.  "The dollhouse, or the shota 
room?" 

***

Omi most daintily caught the single droplet of blood which had oozed from his 
nose, "How am I supposed to choose?"

"You don't have to!" Miki chuckled faintly.  "You can go in them all if you want, 
the don't close till 2AM at least.  So then it's only what room you want FIRST! 
Personally, I like the bondage one, since they hold it in the mirror room, after all."

The thought only made his groin stir, much to his dismay and that of his rather 
tight undergarments.  But Yuuji had picked two, and of those two, he would have 
to agree on one.  Quickly too, for the ache had spread then to his knees, his 
ankles, his stiffening 
nipples.

"Why don't they hold the shota in the mirror room?" Asked his whimsies rather 
than his voice.  

"They seem to think it makes the children nervous."

"Aaa. Well, Reiichi-kun..."

He had his hand around his lover's then, and Miki in the other, pulling them along 
behind the curtain.  If their was only a curtain to hide them.  Beads and velvet 
only later and he 
nearly forgot he was in Silver at all.  The only clue to their true place in the club 
was the and the faint thrum, for it seemed faint, as if the room took in all the sully 
and the sex, and hidden it away.

The chamber had been painted quite exquisitely with an out-door scene- fanciful 
and vague, laced with unicorns and happy, half-clad elfin boys where he could 
indeed make out the mural.  The shag carpet was laden rather with enormous 
stuffed animals as soft as if they had been stuffed with marshmallow.  Swans as 
big as beds swam over the ground, joined by enormous blue bears and rabbits 
with ears that brushed the high, curved ceiling.  Kappa and foxes played together 
in corners, heaps of pillows with friendly eyes made themselves home for pudgy 
monkeys and cats with lacey bonnets chased each other all around.

He was actually delighted by the sight, the brightness, the feel of the silken 
goldfish he leapt upon with a giggle.  Already memory failed him; the 
forgetfulness, laced with the sound of gentle moans too tender to be more than ten 
drawn the recollection there had ever been another evening from him.  He saw no 
one about the room at first, merely heard, sensed movement all around him.  One 
man, twice Yuuji's age left, waving to the 
mountain of fluff.  A paw waved back, and a small boy the back flap of his 
costume undone blew a kiss to the vaporizing outside world.  The white streaks 
across his bottom were ever so plain...

***

Yuuji hadn't expected Omi to react as he had, jumping into the fray with the little 
boys as if it were a playground instead a brothel.   

Omi giggled as he sat up. Two little foxes, entranced by the sound of his 
amusement, broke off their play and ran over to him, and grabbed him by the 
hands, urging him to join them. Yuuji averted his eyes to the floor, jumping when 
Miki stepped forward, and lightly touched Yuuji's wrist, purring, "What's the 
matter, Reiichi-san? Don't you want to play too?" 

His stomach churned at that, but he steeled himself to smile flirtatiously at the 
boy.  

"Oh, I most certainly want to play, Miki-kun. It's just..." He waved a hand around 
the pastel-shaded, candy-land room. "...This isn't exactly what I expected. I think I 
would like to spend the evening elsewhere." 

He bent down then, his lips grazing Miki's ear, and whispered as one arm stole 
around the boy's waist, "Why don't you pick the next one for my friend and I?"

***

Omi, with a little wave over to his sullen lover, leapt up from his seat and ran 
along with the foxes, for their make-believe claws were most insistent, and their 
eyes so soft and sweet he thought that even if they were no children in the 
languages their souls must known, he would like to look upon them just a little 
longer, and pretend they were.  Besides, they might know just where everyone 
else was hiding, and he did want to figure 
out where they had gone.

Then, he fell.  The floor sank not far beyond the rim of smiling pillows, the puffs 
of the carpet easing down into a make-believe valley and turning into a bevy of 
synthetic flowers stitched into the floor as if they had grown there.  One bloom of 
frosted sky blue Lucite held court over them- a wide, vaginal lily which stood in 
the shadow of a particularly large pink, stuffed rabbi.  Its petal-lips were home to 
a teapot and a set of butter-yellow saucers.  He could see no cups save for one a 
middle-aged gentleman was holding.  There was nothing in it, but he pretended to 
drink just the same.

"Won't you have some tea?" One of the foxes asked Omi.

"I'd love some!" With a little laugh he kneeled, the fringe of a daisy sneaking up 
the hem of his shorts.  The elder man saw it, and reached over to draw it away, 
though he did not lay a hand on him.

"You seem a little young to be among the even younger.  Not that I mind, 
naturally," He said.  "But I've never seen such a thing."

"I like children," the Weiss boy responded rather plainly.  The two foxes clapped 
and the sound was muffled.  One handed him a teacup and he was sad for a 
moment that he had not gotten to see from whence it had come.

"Have you been here before?"

"No."

"Ah, that would explain why you look so new.  It's only the little one's change 
here, never any new older ones." He shook his head.  "I almost think this is only 
the blind room with pretty walls."

"Blind room?"

"The one with all the lights off,"  A kappa of about twelve informed him with a 
chilly touch to his smile.  

"Oh."

"You really are new!" And with that, he seated himself on Omi's lap, having 
nudged his elbows out of the way.

Omi didn't know exactly why, but he shifted his cup to his other hand, and laced 
an arm about the fragile waist so close to his own.  The boy sank against him, and 
it did not feel much like the touch of a lover at all.  

"You remind me of someone," The kappa said.  And then unto the foxes.  
"Doesn't he have eyes like Nagi-chan used to?"

They paused and answered in tune, "But he's an older one!"

"So, what difference does it make?"

"Plenty, he's too old to look like Nagi-chan!" The first remarked, and the elder 
man laughed.  

"I didn't know you even remembered him," and he ruffled the child's hair.  "You 
were only four when he was here sometimes, and that was just before he left."

"I remember more than you think I do!"

Omi giggled.

***

As did the clinging youth who was perched upon his lap. The group's sole adult 
gave him a fond sort of grin. "You know, if you were looking to make some real 
money, you could come work here. We're always looking for fresh, pretty faces." 
His eyes wandered a bit over Omi's slender figure as he bent to retrieve a plate of 
tiny, crustless sandwiches which had somehow appeared on the table. 

"Care for one? They're cucumber. They go well with chamomile tea." 

Omi smiled, and took one, carefully laying it along the edge of his plate, only to 
nearly lose it when the boy on his lap cuddled him a bit harder than necessary. 
"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed. "You should come and work here! The patrons who 
come to visit are ever so nice, and we get to play all the time!" 

The elder man chuckled around a bite of sandwich. "You see? Already the boys 
have taken to you, lad," he said, tossing him a wink. "So what do you say?"

***

"Wellllll..." Omi began in a voice bordering on being a whisper.  "I don't know.  
I'd have to think about it."  Though he was presently thinking about it, in detail he 
knew to be lurid and open as all the uncut, uncouth visions there provided in the 
heart of silver.  He saw himself among the children, got up as a dragonfly, the 
costume moving with other people's touches, throwing the light all funny over his 
form.  And he saw himself naked on a clamshell bed surrounded by bottles of 
silver glitter that all stood up together and turned into Yuuji.

"That's fine! Take your time, but not to much, or you won't be pretty any longer." 
One of the foxes this, and he snickered as if with a joke, so Omi joined him, and 
had a bite of his sandwich- the sandwich which seemed to contain more airily 
whipped butter than cucumber.

He tore off a piece that the kappa's eyes lingered now upon, and held it to his lips.  
Like a lover longing for a lover's tongue he took it. And enjoyed it, until he stole 
once again a glance to the young Weiss boy's face "You're shy, aren't you? Is that 
why you don't want to come with us?"

Omi could only nod.

"A trip to the stage will fix that right up!" Their elder companion gaily surmised.  
"But we don't have to start with that.  You could just take your coat off.  One 
thing at a time, yes?"

The kappa and a duck who had snuck up behind them had it in their hot little 
hands and then it was gone.  His hat followed, that of his own derision.  The silky 
flowers all tickled him now, as did all of their eyes.

"Oh!" the second of the foxes then began.  "You really are pretty! So very, very 
pretty."     

And he blushed only to hear mirth as if he had known some grand and Wildean 
truth.  As if children ever could have been expected to understand such things.  It 
didn't seem too far away from how they held him now.

He wondered where Yuuji was.

And then a voice, like smoke breathed through a flute.  "Which one of you here is 
Kappa-chan?"

The green-clad being in his arms twisted all around funny to see who had laid 
their hand upon his head.  Omi for a moment in this did not believe anyone people 
lived who didn't know what kappa looked like! Only the accent reminded him 
such unicorns of fancy still tread upon the earth.

That such tales of fairy things had to begin somewhere.

He took her for a drag queen of exceptional talent, or perhaps one of the ryusei 
who did well as a woman.  She had a waist narrowed by a corset which was of 
black leather embroidered with sakura and owl's eyes- it reached just under her 
breasts but would not cover them though it melted into ribbons over her hips.  He 
saw it first for it was level with his eyes when he looked to her.  

She had lanky limbs, pale with powder that left mirages of gold as she moved, 
though the muscle underneath had been honed almost to the same subtle power as 
Aya's.  This melted seamlessly with her guise, as explicitly feminine as the rest of 
her body betrayed itself to be, or wish it was.  

The gown beneath the corset mad guesses all tantalizingly vague- the sky blue 
and pastel pink gauze had been stitched in so many layers the lines of her figure 
only surfaced in profile. It only reached her knees in the front and fell to a train 
behind.   She carried a scarf of it wound in the crooks of her arms; some of her 
hair had tangled on it in mossy brown threads.  She wore no jewelry, no makeup, 
and as her bangs fell into her lashes 
with the bowing of her head, he missed just what color her eyes were.

"I am! I am!" He cried, excitement blossoming in his smile.

"Aburatsubo has asked for you in the other room.  Come along." The boy picked 
himself up only to see her fluttering away as if she would not get against him.  His 
concern over this lasted only a split second, and then he was waving and blowing 
kisses to them all, stopping to kiss Omi on the top of the head as if their places 
were reversed.  

"Bai everyone! I'll be back soon!" 

"Ja!" Omi called.

The older man sighed.  "They always say that."

The kappa and the lady passed Yuuji on the way out.  Both regarded him for a 
moment as if they knew him and yet did not know him.

(OOC: ryusei = hermaphrodite.)

***  

Yuuji had observed the woman as she made her exit, wondering over the odd way 
she'd looked at him; had she mistaken him for someone else? And what the hell 
was a woman doing in a man's playground? He tugged gently on Miki's hair, thus 
causing him to interrupt his nibbling upon Yuuji's collarbone to look up at him. 
He did not, however, draw his hands away from their play across his newly bared 
chest. 

"Mm?" 

"That woman--who was she?" 

Miki cast a cursory glance over his shoulder in the general direction of the door, 
turning back to Yuuji with a careless shrug. "Oh, she's a hostess of sorts." 

"A hostess?" 

"Yeah, you know. She comes forward to fetch the boys when they've been 
summoned, sees that her customers are well satisfied with their arrangements 
before they begin playing, and so on." 

Yuuji chewed on his lip, musing over what he'd just heard. "Where's she taking 
that boy now?" 

"To the bondage room, of course," the boy replied, a touch of exasperation in his 
voice. "Why are you so curious?" 

"I didn't expect to find a woman..." Yuuji's remark died in a gasp of surprise. 

"My, my," Miki breathed in his ear, "you must be aching!" 

"I..." 

"I know just how to cure your condition," he purred, wrapping both hands around 
Yuuji and rubbing him hard. Yuuji thrust upwards against his palms, and the boy 
laughed. "Why don't I take you somewhere so I can treat you?" 

"Can...my friend come too?" 

Miki's hands stilled around him, and then left him, and then Yuuji felt two fingers 
dance over the tip of his sex. He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning. "I was 
hoping to have 
you all to myself." 

"...And you will. It's just...well, he likes threesomes especially." 

"Oh?" 

Yuuji nodded, and Miki pulled his hand out of his pants with a sly grin. "Then I'll 
go fetch him." 

"You do that," Yuuji replied, and the boy ran off to the tea party in the corner. 
Yuuji took that opportunity to straighten up his clothing and tried vainly to will 
his throbbing erection away. 

By the time the three of them had regrouped and had made their way over to the 
bondage room, the mysterious woman had just finished buckling the last strap 
around Kappa-chan's ankle (and leather straps on his arms and legs were all that 
he now wore). Yuuji watched as she sent him through a wooden revolving door; 
as it opened, the sounds of laughter and moaning could be heard. It made his 
blood freeze. 

And then she looked at him with those penetrating eyes of hers, and for a 
moment, Yuuji was rooted to the spot. He had to force himself to smile and take a 
step forward. 

"Good evening. My friends and I were hoping to take part in a game in the 
bondage room." 

***

He hid behind his lover halfway.  The thoughts of the room beyond, the caress of 
someone else's leather- they settled in his loins and made them thrill.  Yuuji 
stopped just inside the chamber that lead to the main room, and with deliberate 
gentleness, he let his stiffness slide against the undersides of this thighs.  It 
seemed to unnerve him.  Miki only raised an eyebrow.

The woman rose to her full height then, and drew her hair back from her face. 
"Are you with Aburatsubo's party?" she asked.

"Nah, they're not with Presto," Miki laughed.  "But I think they'd like to be!"

Shaking her head she turned her gaze from the boy, as if she had grown tired of 
seeing him.  He sighed, knowing such was indeed the case.  "Two blonds then? 
Or will you take him yet? You do know that he is part of the staff."

Miki, of his own accord, blushed, bowed, and fled to a corner rather than excuse 
himself verbally.

"Well then, I will see if there are any places left in the party for you.  If not, 
perhaps there is another game you can join.  All of the corridors are taken though, 
so you can't have one just to yourselves."  She reached down into her half-corset 
then, coming up with a miniature clear blue plastic tape measure no larger than a 
petit four, and made straight for Yuuji's wrist, which she pulled to a level with her 
eyes by his sleeve, rather than taking him by the hand as might have been 
expected.  The tape lapped around him with a tiny click of gears and thin metal.  
"It's always like this on the open nights." Speaking to herself though she was, she 
followed with the curious seriousness of that which is not expected.  "You are a 
size six in cuffs."

Omi had already presented his bare skin to her, held out as if for a shot. It scarcely 
tickled when she wound the length of flat string around him.  Indeed, he got no 
sense that she had brushed against him at all.  Then again, cuffs were probably the 
sort of thing one wanted to measure generously for.  "And you are only a four."

She drew back, and the tape hissed as it slunk back into its slit.  "You'll have to 
wait here a moment, but you can take your things off awhile if you like.  The 
lockers are 500 yen 
an hour and..." here she snatched up Yuuji's eyes quite incredulously. "Just what 
sort of game did you have in mind if Aburatsubo's party is indeed full?" It 
sounded like a dare.

***    

"I want to play a bit of non-con. Master/Slave." Yuuji nodded at Omi. "My friend 
might wish to play another sort of game, however."  

The woman shifted her mercurial eyes onto Omi again, sizing him up as she had 
Yuuji.  Omi gave her a shaky smile. 

"Yes, well..." she began, turning to Yuuji again. "We can work all that out when I 
return."  She glided over to one of the two sole pieces of furniture in the room--a 
massive wardrobe--and opened it up. Rows of drawers lined its bottom half, and a 
few flimsy costumes hung on its rack. She opened one such drawer and drew out 
a pair of cuffs; opened the one below it, and drew out another pair. These, she 
handed to Yuuji and Omi respectively. 

"Do you want to have a locker?" 

Yuuji nodded, and took out two 500 yen notes. "For the both of us, for an hour 
each. If we want to stay another hour...?" 

"Then Miki can come to me with your fee. There won't be a problem." 

With that she strode off to the door, nudged it open with the flat of her palm, then 
paused to add, "Take off your clothes, and put on your cuffs. I will be back 
shortly." 

The door fell shut with a puff of cold air. Yuuji looked over at Omi, lifting his 
brows questioningly. 

Miki, meanwhile, took a seat on floor and leered at them both.

***

With the vaguest powder of a smile, Omi gave shrugged slipped his jacket off.  It 
melted like oil around his feet.  He smoothed his bangs back as he pushed his hat 
off, his shirt, his shorts and the threads of his suspenders.

"Cute!" Miki chuckled lustily on seeing his pink acetate underwear.

Omi just grinned back at him, and had them off before another word was uttered.  
He stooped rather than bending over after his clothes, and in what disarray gravity 
had given them, he pushed them into the left half of the locker, though they 
tumbled towards the floor of it the moment his hands had gone rather to his cuffs.  
One offered him no trouble, but the second did not want to fit over the bandages 
on his wrist.  He had to ask Yuuji for help with it before the blond Crasher had 
even ridden himself of his one trousers.  Only one of the catches would fasten 
entirely, the other rested together but tenuously.  

In thanks, his hands tumbled onto Yuuji's belt buckle and were resting there just 
as the woman returned.  "Aburatsubo-kun has agreed to take both of you."

"No way!" their earlier guide complained.  "He's not into blonds! You told me he 
wasn't!"

She shot him a withering glare then, making a small motion with her covered 
hands to shoo him off.  "You are in no position to argue with me, boy!"

"Right, right."

She withdrew from all of them then, and took to the only other piece of furniture- 
a chaise lounge of molded chrome and cream cushions that stood, its reflections 
flickering with the slightest movements on the other side of the room.  From 
underneath one of the cushions appeared a book bound in cheap, thin metal which 
bared itself upon her lap then.  A pen of artificial feathers dangled from its spine, 
but she wrote instead with a small, ordinary pencil tugged from her half-bodice.  

On the last slither of Yuuji's things leaving him, the woman glanced upwards and 
said, "You may go in now.  Miki will show you to the corridor.  If he doesn't get it 
right, you are welcome to him.  Enjoy yourselves."

Omi nodded, Miki started to flick his tongue out at the woman, but she looked up 
just in time to catch him before he could.  As if she had not noticed at all, she 
added "I am Creiddylad if it is asked who let you in."

"Thank you," Omi told her and she shrugged while he was still trying to make 
himself remember her name, let alone be able to pronounce it.

Miki did have akanbe towards her then before he skittered through the revolving 
doors.  The youngest Weiss followed, Yuuji did too, still fiddling with his own 
cuffs.  Beyond lay a round room with walls of painted silver and a floor of rough 
stone that bit at his bare toes.  The air though was impossibly warm and soft, not 
merely with breath, but the sounds of things cracking and souls muttering with 
pleasure, and the scent of those who wept with delight though cursed the wonder 
of marking another's form.

Their guide didn't have to lead them anywhere, for at the mouth of one of the 
many doors appeared a lanky gentlemen with purple-red hair down to his waist.  
He was naked, without even cuffs, but wore atop his head a witch's had of black 
leather and carried a wand the spiny tip of which wept blood. 

"Presto!" Miki whistled.

And the man did not even bow to him, but rather ambled over and has his tongue 
down his throat with a wave to wait towards Omi and Yuuji.  "Kom-ban-wa!" He 
finally announced.  "So you're the two boys that GIRL sent here for me! Oh, 
Rivolta was right 
about her having good taste.  My, my! Well, I shouldn't have expected less from 
someone in her position.  Come along then, and don't you dare tell me your 
names." His wand flickered near Yuuji's chest here.  "I don't like that sort of 
thing.  Too personal.  But then again, I understand one of you DOESN'T like 
going without lube.  Which is fine."

At which he swept off towards the door he had come from.  "We've got all sorts 
of magical things in *MY* room."

***   

Yuuji cocked a brow at that, even as he admired the curves of the dominator's 
lovely ass as he retreated into his chamber. What were they about to get 
themselves into? Yuuji could hardly wait to find out, and he impatiently waved 
Omi ahead of him into the room. 

It wasn't like he had pictured it, though. The walls were covered in purple and 
black velvet, dotted here and there with reflective silver foil stars, and the floor 
was of black tile--slightly chilly to his bare feet. Brass lamps hung here and there, 
marking the spaces where sturdy steel clips hung through carefully cut slits in the 
heavy fabric drapings, above black pillars (also with clips positioned on them at 
various heights). Another hung 
over a massive, low, red velvet covered couch--the headboard and footboard both 
boasting steel chains. A slim, rolling, wooden cabinet stood beside the couch, and 
on top of it, rested a small cat-o-nine. Aburatsubo lay his wand down on the 
cabinet, and picked up the dainty little whip. He ran his hand over the leathery 
strips, letting them fall away to droop in a fringe off the thick, slightly curved 
handle. A wicked smile played over his thin, pretty face. 

"Well, well...such lovelies I've been given to play with tonight! I must thank that 
girl later." He flicked the cat-o-nine against his taut thigh without so much as 
wincing. Yuuji, however, did, which made Aburatsubo laugh. He padded over to 
him, leaning in close as he brushed the worn strips down his chest and stomach, 
pausing just above his sex.  The strips moved with him, with every shuddering 
breath he took. 

Aburatsubo wriggled the whip so the strands danced over his erection.  "Don't you 
like my toys, darling?" 

Yuuji gasped. "Yes..." 

The dominator chuckled, and then cruelly grabbed Yuuji by the hair, jerking his 
head back, drawling, "Yes? Yes what?" 

"...Yes, master..." 

Aburatsubo promptly let him go, and smoothed his hair into place. "You should 
have been quicker to remember, darling. You will have to pay for that." He 
reached down and pinched one swollen nipple, making Yuuji hiss. Aburatsubo 
bent his head just as he released him to lick the bud he'd only just abused. "Would 
you like that?" he whispered against Yuuji's skin. 

"...Yes, master." 

Aburatsubo smiled brightly then, and caught Yuuji by one wrist. "Good! Now, if 
you will just come with me..." 

He led him over to one of the posts, and had him to kneel facing the bed and raise 
his arms above his head. He deftly threaded the clip through two of the rings on 
Yuuji's cuffs, and snapped it into place. Gave it a hard tug to test it; it didn't 
budge. Aburatsubo petted Yuuji's hair, then bent to slip him a little tongue before 
turning at last to Omi. Again, he was all smiles as he approached him. 

"Now, my pretty boy. I know what your friend wants, but I don't know what you 
want. Why don't you tell me?"

***

Although Omi, without a touch of sarcasm in his roiling thoughts, considered that 
what he wanted was fairly obvious, for he was stiff and cherry red between his 
legs, literally dripping. In his silence, a single thread of liquid left him and 
splattered on the tile.  He didn't see it though, not properly.  His gaze was filled 
with Yuuji's naked, faintly swaying body, just so out of reach.

The swat that caught him over his cheek took his mind from that though.  

"Please mind you don't make a mess.  Someone might slip," Aburatsubo chided 
with a laugh.  

He had dropped halfway to his knees, and there, his face smarting without his 
fingers to fumble the point of contact, and the stitches set in him pulling just a 
little with the odd position, he smiled, and said unto their mutual master with the 
same sort of voice he used to offer daisies to school girls: "Wouldn't you like to 
see someone slip?"

The small cat-o'-nine rose up, and nearly came down upon his shoulders, but 
Aburatsubo forgot about his faux pas almost at once, and instead brought his whip 
against his own hips with light giggle.  "You know, I think I would! Or even 
better... oh, Kappa-chan!"

The child who came out from behind one of the pillars along the half doors that 
lined one wall.  Someone rang in their chains in another room but no other sound 
chased him as the boy who had vanished just awhile before came back into Omi's 
sight- still nude, but for his cuffs which now wore now chains of tiny bells.  
"Presto-sempai?"

"Do me a favor, one of my toys is leaking."

"I see, sempai."

"Well, clean it up.  Preferably with your tongue.  It's such a cute, little pink 
tongue! I think it's a nice contrast to the dark floor, don't you?"

This asked of Omi, who nodded as he watched the former Kappa drop to his 
slender knees, melting to the cool tile there which he kissed as if rather it had 
become a lover's body, drinking the juices there of a boy he did not even know.

And he most certainly did have a darling pink tongue.

Aburatsubo kissed him in the brow and tugged him into Omi's arms though, 
smiling, self-satisfied at the pair.  "Yes, you do look well together.  Do you want 
Kappa-chan?"

"I'll take him, sempai."

"Wonderful! My toys can play with each other! What a show! You'll watch it with 
me, won't you?" Asked of Yuuji this, with a hopeful folding of his hands before 
his chest.  But he struck the youngest Weiss again- "I am sorry, but only the little 
one's may call me sempai.  Just master is fine with the rest of my playthings."

"What do I call ~him~, though, sempai?" The Kappa asked, threading one of his 
chains about Omi's shoulders.  Had he been older, it might have looked as if he 
tried to hold him so with them, to capture him.

"Hmm... that's a good question! Why don't you call him God until I tell you 
otherwise?"

***

Yuuji, meanwhile, was about to make a mess himself on the floor, so badly was 
his ignored erection throbbing. Watching the naked boy lap up Omi's pre-cum 
from the floor didn't help, nor did seeing the two of them in each other's arms. He 
closed his eyes to block them out and end his torment. But as soon as he had, and 
had tilted his head back against the pillar, the familiar scent of worn leather 
wafted past his nose. The mass of thin whips glanced off his bare chest. 

"I didn't say you could close your eyes." 

Yuuji promptly opened them and found Presto standing over him, smiling, whip 
poised to deal another blow. 

"I'm sorry, master." 

Presto-sempai gave him the sweetest of smiles, and then flicked the cat-o-nine 
over his sex. Yuuji drew in a sharp breath, straining against his bonds. 

"You like that?" 

"...Yes, master," he whispered. 

"Do you want more?" 

"Oh, yes, master." 

Presto chuckled, and reached out to pet his hair. "Begging. I like it when men do 
that--especially if they're at my feet." 

He walked over to the bed to fetch the rolling chest, wheeled it over to the pillar 
Yuuji was chained to, and began to sort through the drawers. 

"Let's see...What sort of toy could we play with next? This...? No, no. Well..." He 
stood there chewing on his lip as he pondered his choices, and then his face lit up. 
"Wait! I know!" Presto closed all the drawers he'd opened, and then opened the 
one he'd ignored. From its depths he pulled out a black pouch. 

"I've got something special for you~ooh," he sang as he untied the strings holding 
it shut.  Kneeling on the floor in front of Yuuji, he reached inside the bag, and 
took out a small bottle of lube and a butt plug. 

"Would you like me to put this in you?" 

Yuuji bit his lip. "...Y-yes, master." 

"Ah! Very good!" Presto popped the top on the bottle and poured a liberal amount 
of lube over the toy, and then, holding it between forefinger and thumb, he 
scooted closer, reaching between his straddled legs to insert the device. Yuuji 
found he had to force himself to breathe while Presto worked the plug into his 
body. When he was done however, he made no move to leave him. Indeed, he 
was staring at Yuuji with a great deal of interest. Yuuji found out just why he was 
gazing at him so raptly when he saw the 
remote control emerge from the bag. A flick of his thumb and he felt a pleasurable 
vibration course through him. 

"Are you comfortable?" 

"Yes, master..." 

Presto canted him a look. "Are you *sure*?" 

His fingers now lay on Yuuji's swollen cock, lightly teasing the tip of it. Yuuji 
moaned softly, and arched forward against his hand. Presto only laughed, and 
then withdrew altogether, tossing him a wink. 

"I'll be back, my darling slave," Presto murmured before he got to his feet and 
padded off to see to Omi and Kappa-chan.

***

They two sat somewhere in limbo now, not quite alive with lust.  The boy's hands 
stole over Omi's thighs, and his eyes over his own- asking, coaxing tempting.

"Doesn't God love all his little children?" He asked in a bare but tender voice.  
"For I love God."

He knew in his heart this would be the only time he ever beheld the boy, let alone 
hold him anything near close. The Kappa was but a fragment of a world of 
someone else's imagination that had wandered into his own- one moment, out of 
many.  A friend for one 
night, and perhaps more.  One halfway glance towards Yuuji, who was thrown 
back against the pillar now, his hips sighing this way and that as the plug 
shuddered within him, and made his cock twitch as if it was held.

/It's only for tonight.  You will love plastic, and I.../

Another glance unto the expectant child.

"All children love God.  You believe in things you can not always be with.  But 
you're with me now, and so you can do whatever you want with me.  Would you 
like that?"

"God is merciful.  I'm shocked," Aburatsubo remarked, twirling his wand that he 
had found for his hands once again.  

Omi nodded though, with a grin, and the boy put his lips to one of his nipples, 
making him cry out himself.  Yuuji echoed him he thought...

"Well, Kami-sama, as you say here in Japan? Do this little akuma a favor and 
slide over onto the bed so this tenchi and I can see."

"Master?" He began, standing now, naked but for the child twined around him.

"Mmm?"

"'Tenchi' means heaven and earth, 'tenSHI' is 'angel'."

"Hhhhhhhm, I do believe you're right.  All the better."

They nodded to each other as he ascended the vermillion covers under that 
knowing gaze, Omi's hands wrapped tight around the softly singing bells as 
though they were but a leash.

"You're a dom, aren't you. You little blond thing?"

"I go either way, master."

"This gets better and better.  MAI! I WILL have to do great things for you two.  
Great things indeed!"

In the mean time, he did no more than have his tongue against the faces of Omi 
and the Kappa, who were both seated akimbo on the bed, like a pair of tumbled 
idols or old flowers.  They would rock together and apart now and then, after his 
lips, but parted 
when he left them, and sucked lube from his fingers as he sat down beside Yuuji.

The young Weiss began to blush then, for the child did not, though his eyes were 
half lidded while he pushed him down against the covers, bit by bit, and snuggled 
down about his legs.

With an airy laugh then- "God is soft like ice cream."

"Am I now?"

A nod.  Though he wished part of him to cover his rosy sex from the tummy that 
began to rub against it a little.  Just a little.

/Because he's... not that much younger than me, but he's still, so little and so 
fragile and.../

/When you were ten, were you fragile? Could you be smashed by one man...?/

/No one ever.../

/I know but..  are you his first?/

/No./

/Is anyone crying out for you but him...?/

Omi smiled down on Yuuji from his covers and cupped the base of the boy's neck 
in his hands, drawing him down over his whole body to nurse the honey salt of his 
own fluid from the lips that kissed him back as if they knew not else.

***

Presto leaned in towards Yuuji and murmured in delight, "Aren't they precious?" 

"Precious...isn't the word I...would use, master, begging your pardon." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuji saw the other man look at him. "What word 
would you use then, slave? Alluring? Tempting? Beautiful?" 

"All...master..." 

A low chuckle came from his right. The speed of the plug's vibrations rose for a 
moment and then fell again courtesy of the device in Presto's hand. Yuuji's head 
lolled to one side and he whimpered, straining in his bonds. "...Please, master..." 

"Please? Please what? Please...you?" 

The vibrations rose and fell again. Yuuji gasped, sagged in his cuffs, still gazing 
all the while upon the boys at play on the bed. "Yes, master. Oh, please..." 

There was a pause as his tormentor resumed watching the pair on the bed, and 
then he said, "You know, I don't like blonds, normally. But you, now..." Presto 
licked his grinning lips, and lay a hand on one of Yuuji's thighs, drumming his 
fingers along the taut flesh. "You, I like." 

"Th-thank you, master." 

Slowly, those teasing fingers slid up his leg, curving around to touch the velvety 
skin behind his quivering erection. Yuuji moaned. 

"I like you very, very much, tenshi." 

He felt the other man shift at his side, saw a flutter of red, and then Presto spoke 
again. "Keep your eyes on the children, and don't move your hips until I say." 

And then he felt the experimental brush of Presto's tongue on his tip before the 
master encircled it with his mouth, and Yuuji clamped his teeth down on his 
lower lip to keep from crying out.

***

Omi ran his hands down Kappa-chan's back then, clasping him about the waist so 
he might hold still for a bit above his aching sex, and there rocked against for a 
while and anything close to release it might bring.  The boy gathered himself 
away though while still hiding wrapped in his legs.  Teasing, and nothing more.  It 
gave him the chance to blow a kiss to his lover as Aburatsubo drew up and slid 
his tongue into his navel.

"Would you like me to do that to you, God?" the child asked then, cupping his 
fingers beneath the Youngest Weiss's drippy knees.  

"Yeah, I would,"

But it was not simply once kiss he felt falling over his body, but a shower of 
them, running down over his stomach from the upside-down heart-shaped curve 
of where his ribs ended beneath his skin, not simply a string, but dozens of small 
caresses by lips like liquid satin all over him, finally seeping past the rim of his 
navel and there fluxing inside him as if having their way with the tender quaver of 
what lay within him.

He screamed, crimson he guessed as the covers he was splayed upon by then.  His 
cheeks had started to burn, and a wetness gathered by his eyes.

Presto drew himself up for a look, and there pause to applaud before taking him 
into his mouth again.  

(Off in the distance of what lucidity remained in him, Omi realized their mutual 
master was nothing close to stiff, rather knowing the scene as his own; as 
something closer to art; as Epicurean as that art might have been.)

"What else do you want of me?" 

"Kappa-chan?" He began, almost seeming to start.

"Yes?"

"I want..."

Rocking forwards on his knees brought their lips close once again and they here 
swallowed each other's tongues with small sighs both.  His palm wound around 
him here and there, felt the nub of the child's stiffness, massaging it a bit as he felt 
his teeth leave rather to nibble his neck. 

"Everything..." he whispered as he plunged one finger into him and thrust with the 
weight of his whole form against the slight one beside him.

*** 

Presto chose that moment to leave off the little licks and nibbles he'd been dealing 
him, and moved to kneel in front of Yuuji. Leaned forward to kiss him deeply. 

"It's getting interesting now, don't you think?" he whispered as he pulled back to 
look at him. "Two such lovely boys having sex." His hands skimmed upwards 
over Yuuji's sides. "And all you get is plastic." 

Yuuji's attention flickered to Presto then. "...Yes, master..." 

"Well..." he purred, rubbing his cheek on his chest like a cat, "I might be able to 
do something about that. But only if you're good. Understand?" 

All Yuuji could manage at that point was a weak nod. Presto chuckled and 
promptly slid his teasing hands down Yuuji's body to firmly clasp his sex. They 
were damp with lube. Yuuji practically sobbed when Presto gave him one hard 
stroke, whispering, "Now you 
can move." 

And then Presto rose again to cover Yuuji's lips with his. 

***

Omi had the boy beneath him by then, and could not feel his lover on his lashes- 
he only sensed him by his muffled moans from the other side of the room as the 
mouth that had so often before kissed Yuuji went sliding down the tender flesh of 
Kappa-chan's neck.   He tasted like iris petals and felt like the inside of a peach 
against him, for just the faintest sheen of sweat had started on his skin.

And the most delectable quiver started through him , he reached further against 
him inside his little companion, pressing the calloused pad of one finger into his 
sweet spot over and over.

He had been quiet but for his sultry words, but he started to whimper then, very 
shrill, and hot.  "God... oh... oh please... oh no... oh..."

Omi tugged himself out of his body at once and hovered just above him, without 
having to say then that he worried after him.

"No no! Stay in me! Please, please! Anything! Just don't..." this lost on a swell of 
a quick pause as he pierced him again, smiling gently as he leaned in for a kiss 
and let his hips twitch against the child's.  Their erections brushed and they both 
sobbed into each other's mouths.  A tiny hand cupped one of his nipples and the 
other fell into his mussed hair.  Kappa-chan bit his tongue when he climaxed and 
Omi tugged away for an instant to swallow the blood before he could taste it.

There wasn't any cum to speak of, just a rosy glow where they had been brushing 
one another.  

***

On Yuuji's side of the room, however, there was cum: splashes of it on the floor, 
on Presto's hands, his chest. It didn't faze the dom at all, though, as his fat cat 
smirk showed. 

"My, my. You *were* ready, weren't you. That didn't take you long at all." He 
leaned forward to kiss him, spreading his lips apart with his tongue, and then sat 
up to release his wrists from the pole. Yuuji's lowered them with a soft groan, 
rolling his aching shoulders a bit, hands resting limply in his lap. 

"Thank you, master." 

"Hmm...don't thank me just yet." Presto tipped him a wink, and caught him by the 
wrist.  As he got to his feet, he beckoned to Yuuji to do the same. 

"See there?" he said, gesturing at the entwined boys on the bed. "Your akuma 
didn't find release. Look how swollen and rosy my cock is now? And Kappa-
chan's still is, too. We mustn't let them be--God will be unhappy, I think, if we do. 
Don't you agree, slave?" 

Yuuji's mouth had unexpectedly gone dry. He nodded, not tearing his eye away 
from the boys cuddled up on the bed. Omi was staring at him so intently. He felt 
another tug as his wrist, and those eyes grew closer and closer, never turning 
away. 

"You played so prettily together, my lambs," Presto cooed as he reached out to pet 
Kappa-chan's hair. "My slave enjoyed it." He knelt on the bed to kiss both boys, 
then pulled Yuuji onto the mattress, and gestured for him to lie down alongside 
Kappa-chan. 

"Yes...he enjoyed it so much that he wants to play with you," he added, gently 
stroking Omi's rear. "As do I." 

***

Omi kept his limbs entangled with the child's for a bit, though he had taken his 
fingers from him for the time being, had kissed him freshly, just about his cheeks, 
though he kept his tongue on him little by little, still softly stunned he'd had a dry 
orgasm after so many years.  Being with a child couldn't bring such things, could 
it? Simply by will and memory.

He turned to Aburatsubo, who beside him lay smiling his heart away and 
throbbing with his member just shy of his own thighs.  As he spoke to him, he 
reached across the youngest of his bedmates and fumbled for Yuuji's hand, which 
he found and skated over onto Kappa-chan's penis only to afterwards lead it down 
into the cleft of his bottom, and leave it there.  "Oh, that's good, Akuma-sama! 
Because I feel pretty much the same way."

Presto laughed and squeezed the cheek he was now holding, "Akuma-sama! That 
sounds FAR too assonant! And bouncy and happy, even though I am happy.  I 
take it you're saying yes to me? Calling a truce between heaven and hell?"

Omi nodded and settled one of his fingers on the man's wet tip.  "I am.  Just for 
you."

He paused then, and his sudden silence quite perplexed their host, who frowned 
and cut an unhappy face in the pillow with his wand while waiting for an answer.  

"But... Please Umm... I've got... stitches in my..."

He and the Kappa began to laugh then and whistle (the child between faint 
moans), a thing of Silver natives it seemed, that they were delighted by such 
things.

"Good for you!" the boy offered.

"How wondrous indeed! I LOVE boys who got carried away."  Aburastubo rose 
up then and had a rough kiss from his Omi's lips while the Kappa went to nibble 
at his shoulder before turning back to Yuuji and licking at his jaw.  "And I can 
spare you unless you WANT me to rip you open.  There are so many other fun 
things to do with such a wounded ass.  Oh God, please grant this wretched devil 
one small favor and get on your hands and knees."

He did so, and had barely stilled himself before he felt a tongue laving where he 
had torn himself open.  One which paused for but a second.  "Slave, you really are 
terrible, but your work on your usual master tastes truly delightful."

Omi leaned down into the pillows with a cry, spreading himself as far as he dared 
for the tongue that had breached him.

***  

Yuuji could feel the shift of the child's shoulder blades beneath his hands as he 
moved against him, the arching of his ribs as breathed. It felt like he was holding 
something frail and fragile, like a tiny bird; one wrong move, too much pressure, 
and he would reduce its hollow bones to dust. The boy's dainty tongue flickered 
over his cheek, then met one corner of his mouth. Yuuji closed his eyes, shutting 
out the sight of Omi wriggling under Presto's onslaught. His hands drifted slowly 
lower to curve around Kappa-chan's hips, and then his rear. It was so smooth, as 
were his lips when they brushed against Yuuji's. 

To his dismay, he felt the blood creep into his sex, making it twitch. Making it 
harden.  All he could see was stretching that lovely child out on the blankets, and 
lifting his legs, and... 

Yuuji turned his face away from the boy, pursuing his lips together. The 
disappointment coming from his would-be lover was palpable, carried over his 
reedy, plaintive voice. 

"Don't you like me, slave?" 

Yuuji hung there for a moment, refusing to look the child in the eyes, the air thick 
with Omi's panting and tender moaning. The child was rocking slightly against his 
newly erect sex, causing him to grip the child that much more tightly. 

"No, I don't." 

With that, he gently set the child aside, and climbed off the bed, dropping to a 
spread kneel beside it, eyes submissively downcast.

***

"Well well!" Presto came up for air then, wiping his lips as he did so.  Without the 
touch of him, Omi fell to the sheets with a choking sigh, peering out at his lover 
with one, gleaming blue eye beneath the veil of his hair.  "This is a surprising turn 
of events! What hath God wrought?" 

All eyes expectantly turned to the youngest Weiss, who gathered himself up a bit, 
now plainly pouting.  He looked about to say something rather dire, but a brush of 
Aburatsubo's tongue over his balls made him fall quietly back to the crimson 
covers.  
The dom reclaimed his wand then and he swept it back and forth just shy of 
Yuuji's brow.  "I suppose you think I'm going to let you off just because you, a 
SLAVE of all people, has some notion of innocence.  I assume that is it... though 
judging from your 
boyfriend..." he glanced unto his second guest from behind his thighs and shook 
his head.

"You're just picky, eh? Oh, we have things we do to picky people."

"I wouldn't say he's that, akuma," Omi sighed, sounding half sated, half afraid, 
though willing at the time to guard with nothing more than words.

"Then what is he?"

"Annou... untried."

The child and the dom both sat up, looking pleasantly perplexed.  The boy 
clapped, and their master began, "What a stuffy old word! I love it, but is he 
really?"

A nod.

"Why, that's FABULOUS! What hasn't he done? Tell me! Tell me!" 

Omi, however, had to pause and rub his eyes, for his mind had suddenly rather 
expected to see a child gone lost in a story of sugar secrets and other such delights 
best saved until after dinner.  "No one Kappa-chan's age, for starters."

Aburatsubo nodded, stroking his own hair to one side and smacking his lips.  As 
he moved then, bobbing forward and back as the insect who pretends to be a leaf 
to calm its prey, he reached out for Yuuji, gathering him into his arms and pulling 
him back onto the bed.  He held him very tightly, and dared him to defy him and 
speak as he pulled out the plug that had filled him until then.  

"What are you..." Omi began only to be silenced with a kiss like he felt he had 
known before.  

"We're going to teach him a lesson that innocence fucks one every single time."  
A slap he dealt the kappa then, who, with nervous speed took his place behind 
their slave and drew his lips up to his neck where they had been before.  "And 
God, you may have whatever hole is open yet after we begin."

Omi had begun to rise from the covers, his hand reaching for someone, any of 
them.  The little boy had his insubstantial erection buried in Yuuji by then, and 
with hoots of laughter did Aburatsubo hold their slave sitting so he could descend 
once more upon his stiffness.  Their master rubbed himself as he sucked upon 
Knight, abandoned at last to his slow passions.  "You do taste awfully fine, oh 
yes."

Omi felt himself lurch inside at the sigh, and his fingers were mimicking what 
Presto's did, though upon his own form, and this for many moments before he 
remembered his words, and nearly spilled himself with the simple thought he 
could have him, their host, at once.

So he reached for him and no other now, making it look like an accident when his 
hands fluttered over Yuuji first... he thought he heard footsteps amid the gentle 
cries, but passed that off as his shivering wont.  The wet and musty smell as well.

Then without invitation, he felt someone's cock try to enter him.  The touch of its 
salt brought him a second of pain and made him clench.  He heard a woman laugh 
with a voice he had not heard before.  Presto mumbled into the penis he had 
swallowed, the best 
greeting he could muster.

"I'm sorry, are you taken? Injured? Virginal?"

He had wheeled around on the sheets, poised his arm to fight off the intruder, but 
he had drawn back and was standing away from the bed now, looking quite 
aroused, but rather ashamed.  He could not see all the woman, but glimpsed the 
toes her boots behind the 
drapes.  Of their guest, he bowed, and kissed his raised fingers to still them, once 
he had gathered the nerve to return.

***

"I beg your pardon," said the newcomer.  "I probably should have introduced 
myself before I went about trying to fuck you.  I am Constantine Rivolta."

Yuuji opened his eyes to find an attractive man of medium build, Mediterranean 
complexion and light brown hair standing by the bed.  Quite, quite naked, he was, 
and the look suited him.  
What didn't suit Yuuji was the way he was leering at Omi; the way he leered at 
*him*.  He felt even more self-conscious than he had before, but Presto would not 
be daunted in his task.  Neither, it seemed, would Kappa-chan.

The newcomer knelt on one knee at the side of the bed, distributing the rest of his 
weight onto the hands he placed on either side of Omi.  The grin he gave him was 
feral.

"Where did you find this one, Presto-kun?  Oh! I forgot you were 
otherwise...engaged."  He tossed the gasping Yuuji a wink.  "Perhaps I will have 
to try my luck with you next, hm?"

He gazed down at Omi again, slowly looking him up and down.  "Tell me, pretty 
boy, what name are you going by tonight?"

His hand came up briefly to brush his shoulder-length hair over his ear, and it was 
then that Yuuji noticed the ring he wore on his middle finger. His eyes widened at 
the sight of it, and his hands twisted the sheets beneath him violently.

It was Sugihara's.

***

Presto gave a displeased mumble and let his teeth slink over Yuuji's shaft while 
his arms came up and clutched him about the waist which he did with a small, 
sadistic fervor.  He was much stronger than this dainty being betrayed, and he 
liked very much to leave marks upon his playthings so they would be therein left 
alone by anyone else who might find them attractive. 

Even Constantine, whom he wiggled his ass at, but did not address.  Omi drew 
back under their newest guest's gaze and let his head tip towards his shoulder in 
some semblance of a 
sweet gesture, for he did find him pretty, Rivolta; pretty like pillars of ruby glass 
etched with gold.  He didn't looked real as he saw him from the covers.  Didn't 
look like his skin would falter if he touched it.

"Ken.  Hidaka Ken," he told him in a light voice and Presto rose from his work a 
moment to cheer for this and the fact Kappa-chan was too lost in his thrusts to 
speak.  The child had wound his fingers into Knight's lips and half covered them 
with his palm, for he had nothing else he might hold onto with his tiny hands.

"But he is called God tonight!" The words were bubbly with what traces of cum 
still hung upon his teeth.

"Or Kami-Ken! Like Comiket!" Constantine's finger darted over Omi's jawline 
here though he touched him not elsewhere with anything but his shadow.  "Only... 
better drawn I dare say.  Am I allowed to play with you anyway, my living work 
of art?"

"Please don't call me that," Omi replied, turned his face to one side just the 
slightest bit.  

"Oh, why not? Don't you like to be flattered?"

"It's hard to take when I think the same of you."

At which the newcomer wheeled away, clutching his heart in mockery of a real 
wound.  "Touche! Touche! You've got me.  I believe this calls for something 
special between us, 
now that' we've been introduced right.  Feng?" Her name he called lightly as if 
speaking it was an act which if done too hard would shatter her or tear the silk of 
any of their presences.  "Can I bother you for a spell?"

The woman behind the curtain ceased whispering to whoever had come to see her 
and came ringing into the room; there was little else to describe the way she 
moved, sounded, looked. 

She was clad in the very tightest black patent leather pants that could have been 
forced on her, but above the waist got up in what resembled half at least of a 
Chinese courtesan costume in misty South Seas blues and Phoenician purples.  An 
amber peach hung 
around her neck and charms of silver feathers were wound into the black curls 
resting atop her head.  She had though murky briar-brown eyes that almost 
seemed too plain for the rest of her, and yet did not come clearly upon what she 
looked at.

He got a good look at her for she came quite close, near enough to let her long 
nails scamper over Constantine's back, which did not make their guest do more 
than smile.  That, and Omi could not quite account for all the trills that came from 
her and so kept 
looking her over and over.

"What do you need?"

"A bottle of Benedictine from the cabinet, would you mind fetching it?" She 
shook her head and tickled his ear.  He took her hand an kissed it.  "Ah, would 
that I was one of yours, Feng."

"Oh, if I could take you, I would.  Believe me."  But she went off then, into the 
back of the room out of sight of the bed.

Omi's question began to take form then: "Who is..."

"She's my friend, don't worry about her." This reply given with a palm that stole 
over his lips, asking him not to go any further about his inquiries.  The Kappa 
began to gasp for air and no one heard it for all attentions had fallen on their new 
companion who had climbed up around Omi and taken him into his arms but 
barely with a touch, more the heat of his body.  "Do you like to play, Pretty Ken? 
Even if it doesn't get you off? Secret, evil things?"

"Ee..."

"How about a little game with me?  Would that make you happy even if I can't 
fuck you?"

"Of course." His gallant smile came to be even if he could not be sure if it would 
be noticed in those blue eyes drinking up his own.

Constantine but nodded and took up his mouth with his own, his arms with his 
own, aching stiffness with his own until, in short seconds, Feng's hand found her 
friend's hair this time, and he looked up to her with elsewhere eyes and a grin she 
returned with a faint show of the pin pricks her long canines made in the rosy 
cushion of her lower lip.  It made him look away.  And then he saw them.

"I like your boots!"

They were the same leather as her pants but hung all over with tiny bells.

"They'd look bad on you." A wink and one of her flasks came to Constantine's 
hand.  The other she held up.  "For Creiddylad and I while we wait," Of the other 
bottle it was sherry of faded lavender.

"Knock yourselves out, darlings!"

She left, still chiming and Rivolta shook his head after her before turning back to 
Omi and feasting a moment on his neck.  "Get on your hands and knees then, just 
like you were before.  You look good from than angle, whimsical boots or not."

He nodded and did as he was bade, resting his chest on his forearms now so his 
rosebud appeared bared above all else.  Lips glanced it again- Constantine's felt 
much heavier than Presto's, wherever on his own lover they gad gone now.

The cork from the bottle of Benedictine sailed away onto the floor and the master 
who had let them in bemoaned that someone would have to pick it up, all without 
words.  Omi could not see him, but he knew his latest bedmate was grinning but 
softly.  

"Now, hold very still..."

The cold lips of the bottle just barely opened him and he hissed, not because it 
was too much for him to bear, the girth of the glass, but rather the stinging chill of 
the liquid within as it flowed from against him.  It made him twitch and fuss 
beneath it, at least until someone jerked him backwards and it all tipped what 
pools there were away.

So Constantine could drink from him as if he were but a goblet.

***

Yuuji was utterly appalled at the sight of that man, that inhuman bastard, with his 
lips against Omi's ass. He wanted to rise from the bed and strangle Constantine, 
but Kappa-chan still played between his splayed legs, fingers tickling the sensitive 
underside beneath his sex. Presto still held him tight and close as he continued 
bathing him with his devilish tongue. Yuuji struggled in his arms but only 
succeeded in making him laugh around the mouthful of flesh. 

"You're awfully wriggly now, aren't you?" 

"...Let me go. I've had enough." 

He looked quite displeased.  "I don't think so, slave. I haven't had enough yet." 

"You can't keep me here." 

Aburatsubo grabbed him by the throat, and pinned him down. "I can do whatever 
I damn well want, slave. And what I want..." 

Presto chuckled as he shoved the boy away and took his place. Yuuji clawed at 
his hands, at his face, kicked. But Presto, with help from Kappa-chan, managed to 
keep him down, legs spread 
and trapped around either side of the dom's waist, his hands pinned to the 
mattress. He could feel the tip of Presto's erection bumping against his crack, and 
his breath caught in his chest. 

"I said let me go." 

Presto gave him a nasty grin. "You can say that all you like, pretty slave. It doesn't 
matter. I'm keeping you here, and, as soon as Kappa-chan finishes slicking me up, 
I'm going to fuck you." He nudged him again. "Can you feel it, all cool and 
slick?" 

A laugh and he shoved forward hard into Yuuji's unwilling body, making the 
struggling blond cry out in indignation and pain.

***

Aburatsubo clapped as best be could with a live and writhing Yuuji tied up in his 
arms.  "OH! OH! I love it when you're feisty! I LOVE it! Oh, Thank you, God, for 
bringing me 
such delights..." Their master gave a cry then which drowned Omi's wandering 
assent out completely.  The Kappa tried to kiss the younger Weiss's lips, but could 
not get himself around, nor find that sweetness in among the tangle of forms.  
Presto gave 
another thrust.

"My friend said you go for a little bit of non-con, and you know, I was going to 
give you one of Constantine's boys to play with that way... but it's not like that, is 
it?"

Another soft cry and he squeezed the length of ivory skin, tight as he could, for 
what interminable seconds he figured his toy would last.  Yuuji gurgled in protest.

"It's you? Isn't it? You love it don't you, my pretty little bitch?"

Rivolta, looking on with rapt and dirty gaze, slunk up over Omi's body and the 
place he had drunk from, leaning against him, embracing him with weight alone.

The covers had wine on them now, and the air.  Their latest guest's lips were 
bloody with it and Omi still burning.  Just a little.

"Reiichi!" He shouted though, words airy with passing ire or pain.  It was hard to 
tell...

All that could be certain was in one fleeting moment the sheets tore under 
someone and Presto fell to the floor with a yelp.  His wet sex bounced and he 
came up holding his side.  Kappa-chan faired little better, casting himself into the 
headboard for there was nowhere else he might have gone to hide.  Ken shouted 
something unintelligible and Omi tried to breath harder that the skin that held him 
down would allow.  

They all fell still then, glancing between one another. 

"YUUJI!"

"Who's Yuuji?" The child wondered while he rubbed his head.

With the same sexy jangle to his moved, Aburatsubo got to his feet, thumping at 
his ribs as if he meant to punish them for paining him.  "Fine! Be that way.  You 
make me put makeup on THIS bruise for a week, I'll make you WAIT! 
Creiddylad! I'm tired of 
playing with the elder toy!"

No reply from the halls outside, for silence once again had settled in the chamber 
now the games had ceased.  Omi tried to get up, but every move he made, he felt 
his bedmate's tongue sink deeper into his mouth, making him twine therein as if 
he kissed him back.  The Kappa took his hand and rubbed it in his own hair.  He 
almost wished he could hold him, almost wished he would vanish.

Footsteps, very fast.  It was not only the summoned woman who came into the 
room, but her companion, and the bottle of sherry, half empty now and squeaking 
in her gloved hand as she moved.  Feng had the blond Crasher's clothing balled up 
in her arms, and it all came down to the floor in a flurry of white feathers.  All but 
the whip sword, which she uncurled and swept back and forth over the empty 
floor with the pace of a pendulum

"You didn't HONESTLY think we'd mistake this for a belt, did you?" The placid, 
empty mask left Creiddylad's face then.  Her lips seemed lush now, her gaze still 
under the most luxurious controls, though not of the world of men, but rather 
something shredding and ancient, enough not to slay one another on mere whims.  
"Or that we haven't seen the likes if you before.  Wanting to spoil one man's 
dainties with your own morals... 
bathetic." 

"Feng!" Constantine cried and she left the string of blades behind for him, even if 
she didn't seem to want to go back to the present.  He tumbled from the bed and 
nearly into her arms, though she dodged him at the last moment, and simply stood 
between him and Omi as if her presence served as shields.  She had it in her to 
yawn though and did.  He shook his head, for this, or for the otherwise timing of 
the situation.

Presto though, did not seem in the least worried by the appearance of the weapon, 
and stood, still striking his wound now and then, until the gloved woman came to 
him and slapped him once across the face.  "You're supposed to be afraid! Don't 
you remember what that is?"

"No, not really... how's this?" At which he cowered behind her rather farcically, 
mumbling "Whatever shall I do?" and such like nonsense.

She did not strike him again, Creiddylad, but with a growling smile smashed her 
sherry bottle on the rim of the bed.  Clear fragments and unspent wine burst about 
the floor and the sheets, a momentary pulse of rain.  The dripping husk of glass 
slid towards Yuuji and her eyes did too.

He could see them now for what they had always been but neither he nor Omi had 
known the words for; the color of the wine upon the floor.

"Well, this will have to do.  I guess it's better for you I DIDN'T show up here 
tonight ready for a fight. So shall we get it over with?  I'm not about to let you 
leave with Aburatsubo's heart in your hands, you understand, even if he isn't any 
of my business most of the time.  So, what will it be? To make things fair, should 
I take my clothes off or do you want to put yours on?"

***

Yuuji grabbed Omi and dragged him off the bed as he himself did climb off it, 
shoving him aside the moment he felt the boy's feet hit the floor.  

"You think you can take me, woman?" Yuuji chuckled nastily. "Just because 
you're built like an Amazon doesn't mean that you can defeat a man. After all, the 
Greeks managed it." A smile, and he took another small step towards her, hand 
extended. From the 
distance between them, he figured the whipsword wouldn't reach him if she 
swung it. He fervently hoped that he'd figured correctly. 

"If you want to fight naked, I don't care. As for me, I want to put mine on, and I 
want my weapon back too. And no one touches Ken, or I won't fight."

***

Creiddylad smiled with her teeth flashing past the curves of her lips and shook her 
head.  "Heh, you of all people didn't strike me as the shrewd sort.  It's a deal." Her 
empty hand came out to him, the leather of her gloves twinkling with the beat of 
her breath as it hung suspended between them.  Yuuji nodded, gave her clad 
fingers a shake before stepping backwards to the distant heap of his garments.  He 
dressed with his gaze unable to settle 
on just one of the assembled while they in turn kept him naked with their eyes.

Omi twice started towards him.  The first time he stopped himself when a and a 
touch of pain took to his forehead, so rather free will drew him back in the end.  
The second barefoot steps found Kappa-chan in his arms before he had been able 
to move.  The boy 
shivered fitfully, buried his face in his chest so he found now, free will or no, he 
could not shove him away at once.  "I'm sorry," he mouthed to his lover and 
kissed the child's hair.

Yuuji's opponent meanwhile bounced upon her ankles, disinterested in waiting or 
watching Presto, who rose from behind her, and trying to stretch, meandered over 
to the place where Rivolta had huddled.  Duel or no duel, his hand lazily stole 
down between 
the other man's legs, though he said nothing to him, preferring rather to address 
the woman who had come with him.  "Aren't you going to shed a little blood for 
us too?"

Constantine shook his head to her as she turned to them for only a moment.  "I 
think I'll sit this one out.  Wouldn't be very fair if I joined in too, now would it?"

"But! You're armed! I know you are!" Aburatsubo's late-coming guest protested.

Feng shrugged and drew away from them, came to a place in the room where 
everyone could see her quite well.  Her companion began to chuckle, knowing 
what was coming it seemed. "Sure am!" This said, she drew from her boots a pair 
of curved, swooping knives with long slits on the overcurls plainly meant to hold 
an opponents weapon still.  One sank back into its holster, but the second she held 
now with both hands as, with a grin, she sank it through the center of her chest 
until the tip pricked through the back of her shirt.  No blood came, and when she 
pulled the blade from herself, there was only a pair of holes in the silk.

Omi quailed and clutched Kappa-chan, though his gaze to her was hard with hate 
of what he could not understand.  No one said anything.  Feng put the knife away 
and kicked Yuuji's blade over towards him, for he had finished dressing.

It was only then, as the blond Crasher began to approach her, that Creiddylad 
uttered another word, drifting in his direction as she was now herself.  They 
moved but slowly, floated each- one a conflagration of blue and pink, one all 
white.  "I guess you know then, that there were real Amazons once and they, like 
all lonely, dark things, lived out on the Russian steps where no one likes to admit 
their bones are still found.  Of course, since 
all they have is bones... there's no way for them to say if they were Amazon in the 
true sense of the word."

Her gloves darted over the front of her dress where no catches could be seen, but 
just the same, when it had passed, her bodice had come halfway undone.

"So, if you think I am that fierce, would you like to try to make me one? Would 
you like to try and cut one of these off so I can handle a bow? Do you think I need 
one?"

No chance to answer came though, for with a cry Creiddylad hurdled forth 
towards her opponent, broken bottle leading.  Yuuji began to dodge, but she 
pulled herself to a pause before coming into the place where she would have met 
him.  He tried to cast himself into the right direction to go after her now, but her 
stillness ended.  She lunged after his fleeing form and caught him in the back with 
the most jagged part of the bottle, which 
cracked.

A few slivers went clanking to the ground, but one left itself in the gash.

***  

It took a moment for Yuuji to realize that he had been sliced open. The embedded 
shard of glass pained him afresh every time he moved, but he couldn't stop now. 
One didn't just go back on a handshake-sealed agreement. She wanted a fight, 
she'd get one. 

So Yuuji spun, whirling the whipsword around as he turned to face her and let it 
fly. The end of it caught her across her thighs, ripping into her gown and her 
flesh. He could see the satisfying wet gleam of blood shine through the tear, and 
he gave her a cold smile as he flicked the weapon to him. 

"No, Amazon. You may keep your breasts. I rather like the look of them--in fact, 
with any luck, I'll have the chance to see even more of them than what you've 
shown me." He laughed a little, and charged after her again, drawing back the 
whip for another blow.

***

It was not Creiddylad who cried out when her skirt parted under his chain of 
razors, but Feng, who swore in several chiming languages but made no sense in 
theirs.  Still, as much as the wound had repulsed her her, she did not leave her 
space in Constantine and Aburatsubo's company.  Just winced, and brushed about 
the leather on her own legs with her fingers that more than once slipped past the 
barrier and presumably touched skin instead.

Creiddylad had fallen back before Yuuji for a moment, the trails of pink and blue 
film around her trickling open around her legs.  The partly severed swag came 
down about her knees, and where it had once been her sex would have been on 
view now, fully, had it not been for a leather thong that barely did a thing to hide 
the auburn curls there.  

Rather than try to hide it, she took her bottle shards in both hands and raised it to 
guard.  Crack! The whip sword fell between two of its jags, caught there.  It 
sighed and so did the glass as they tried to pull them apart, tiny starlets of faint 
green tumbling this way and that as the blades sawed their backwards way out of 
the vitreous clutches the lady wielded.  Only then did she parry him in remarks.

"Does your little boy know you have such exotic tastes for a Uranian? Or is this 
his first time hearing THESE fancies as well.  You should have seen the look he 
gave you when you said you were into non-con.  And wait! You're AC/DC, aren't 
you? Now that's more of a trip than the fact you're starting to sound like the 
cavalier you seem to think you are."

CRACK! They pulled apart, skittered like a pair of lace wings around one 
another, neither coming within striking distance of the other.

"I can do that!" Rather, she cleared her throat first.  "So knavish! If you would 
uncover my nakedness, what would I rather do with thee? Would you be inclined 
to guess or would you rather I tell thee..."

She lunged, he fended her off at the last second.

"...bit..."

A wide swing this time, meant to send his attentions in the wrong way, save him 
from a slice when rather her fist went for his ear, and judging from the crack, 
found it.

"...by..."

She waited for him and he struck.  She did not well hold him for she was caught 
in the ribbons of her skirt, her legs drifting apart of their own accord for her feet 
straddled spilt blood.  He nicked her wrist and only then a hiss of pain.

"...bit?"

***

The whip sounded like rain on tin as it fell once more to the hard floor, coiling 
like a bloodied snake near Yuuji's foot. His ear was throbbing where his opponent 
had struck him, but he didn't touch it, for he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. 

"No, I would like you to tell me flat out, as I value directness." The whip sailed 
forward without much warning and caught her across the stomach. The fabric 
hung like a banner from her waist. Yuuji looked her over, rubbing the back of his 
dripping leather glove against his chin as he did so. 

"As for my boy over there, no, he doesn't know all of my fantasies, just as I don't 
know all of his. If he's shocked, well, I'm sure I would be shocked by some of 
his." He snapped 
the sword at her, just to taunt his opponent. "I'm even surprised you asked that 
question, considering where we are." 

He drew the whip up short and came at her again. As they passed, a fist landed in 
his stomach, and a foot tried to trip him. Yuuji gave her another stinging lash, this 
time catching her across the shoulders. He skidded to a halt, panting hard and 
eyeing the 
shrieking, cursing Feng with cool disdain. 

"I take it the she-devil doesn't like to see her pet get beaten?"

***

"I wish!" Creiddylad cackled.  She swept around him in long, waltzing steps, 
guarding her back from another slash with the shoulder of her weapon.  A few 
threads of her hair were 
severed and hung, still in faint curlicues, about the blood in her shoulders.  "My 
skin makes a noise more dreadful than you can possibly imagine when it's cut.  
Then again, you're not a Lucinda."

Whirling around, she struck once more for him, once more reaching for his throat.  
She missed a second time, spun the sharpness of her bottle into his side at the last 
moment, sticking him just under the arm in the one instant they seemed to have 
both surrendered.  He looked stunned, and not only for the latest of his wounds or 
the one he left along the length of one of her legs as she drew away, laughing 
now.

"Can it be that thou hast ne'er met one such creature? Well, we shall have to have 
a second match then, if at all possible.  That is one of the delights I should like to 
see you have with her. Hmm? Would you like to compete with a woman to see 
who is the better fuck? While your boy watches? Because I can always, always 
arrange for other opponents."

She stumbled then, and her cuts all cried on the stone floor with the jolt.  Yuuji 
cut her fist as he reached down and tore away the dangling front of her skirts.  It 
went flying onto the bed and the remains still drifting over the backs of her legs 
flew now when she ran.  When she nailed Yuuji in the groin with her knee.

"After all, I find thee not the least bit enticing.  Not unless you're suffering, which 
you seem to do very, very well."

***

"Bitch!" 

Yuuji, doubled over and cradling his abused crotch with one protective hand, took 
one teetering step away from her, forcing himself to take deep breaths. The pain 
was excruciating, and he fought to keep himself from blacking out entirely. 

"Just because I admired your breasts doesn't mean that I find you enticing. Yours 
aren't the first I've beheld; they won't be the last." 

One, final, deep breath and Yuuji gingerly straightened up, flicking the whip 
back, and then at her. It bit into the floor, chipping it, just short of her foot. "I 
don't want to stage any more contests.  I don't want fuck either one of you." His 
eyes fell upon Rivolta's hand, and the ring winked at him in beckoning. If that 
creature wasn't guarding him... 

But he'd had enough of women for one night; possibly for a lifetime. 

He caught her arm with his whipsword, the metal tip of it snagging her sleeve.  
When she shook her arm free, a piece of bloodied fabric ripped away, and drifted 
to the floor.  

"I think you'd like for me to throw you down on the bed and screw you while 
*your* girl watches. But I won't. I just want to finish this battle." 

Yuuji lashed her across her waist, and yanked her forward into his arms. He 
whisked off his glove and wrapped his bare hand tight around her throat. 

"I just want to win."

***

"Holy shit..." Feng breathed, speaking for the first time in many moments in 
words they knew.  It sounded as if she held in giggles, even while her companion 
fought to hold onto air.  The other woman's throat bobbed in Yuuji's grasp as she 
swallowed.

"...stupid..." she hissed, but her gaping, empty eyes uttered no such assurance to 
the Crasher.  They had gone pale as the skin of the mortally frightened might, the 
sherry in them fading to morning fog, and no longer saw the blue of his gazing 
down on them, or the mild wonder living there beneath the fury and the pain.  

There was blood all around them both now, a circle of it splattered out as if for a 
ritual.  Shards of skin and glass fluttered about the crimson streaks.  She knew 
none of this, and her scream died before it was born.  

 "...stupid.....................boy." Creiddylad shook, her muscles feeling they could do 
no more.  But slowly, her hands crept upwards, her opponent taking in full sight 
of them, 
sporting no fear of them, for the bottle tumbled from her grip, and her bare hand 
then reached up, caught at the tatters of her shoulder.

Pulled her breasts bare in mocking, for she smiled.

"...I............... hate............... the ones............... like you............ you know............ 
not............ what you are............ if you did............ I would not 
have............ to............ kill you............ some............ day............ soon............ 
would do that............ for me............ you............ Kri............ tiker............ trash."

His fingers about her flesh went tense and brittle as the battered body of the 
bottle, so tight he could no longer hold them around her with any certainty.  And 
yet, in this, she did 
not flee him at once, but new light engendered in her gaze came to him, a violent 
sense of distant nebula crimson.  The thing in her left over from the stardust of 
which her body had been wrought before she was even born.

"I............ know............ you............ Honjyou Yuuji.  I know............ your soul is 
not your own."

He tumbled from her with a shriek, and she came flying across the floor then, a 
sliver of his skin spat from her lips as she did so.  Her gloves she shed.  

"Run!" Omi shouted to the Kappa, and the Kappa vanished Yuuji's boy fell down 
alongside his lover who had not the sense in him at that moment to push him 
away.  

Creiddylad naked breasts heaving, fell into the crowd of her companions, 
glancing ever at her heels for her opponent to follow.  "Your ring! Rivolta! Give it 
here! NOW!"

Yuuji did pursue her then... slowly still, caught on his lover's shoulder, trying to 
shake free...

"It's mine!"

"Fuck! You can have it back! Just give it to me! Give it to me!" Aburatsubo 
laughed, but caught another punch to his ribs when Feng seized him and started 
towards the door. 

The loop of silver sailed into her waiting palm, vanishing there for a moment as 
her hand closed around it. 

"Do not be alarmed, my dead man.  Do no spend your last good fight wishing for 
such trivialities as this, or worrying rather, over my part in the world.  You see, it 
is only natural I would know such things as your heart speaks not by way of your 
lips.  After all, your flesh is but flesh..."

She had the ring settled in the circlet of her fingers, and it stayed upon that single 
point of her touch, even as the blue glimmer began to raise about her, and her 
fingers left it.

"...and mine is the breath of God!"

No sound then, no sight but the aura about her going in and out like the light of a 
million refracted candles wavering between the dim and the blinding.  The ring 
did not even shine, but as a well of gravity might know, it shuddered there in the 
presence it held in their minds, drawing and bursting forth together with the 
pressure left there by a million caresses.  

The pain there, the absolution and the terror of its dying owner, the sound of his 
last heartbeats in his own ears... that was what met Omi and Yuuji.

And Sugihara died over and over again between her fingers while she laughed, 
and they two fell to the floor.

***

With his long-dead beloved's horrible last moments falling upon his ears over and 
over, Yuuji screamed out his heartbreak and rage, attempting to rise but finding 
his limbs pinned to 
the floor.  He could only move enough to breathe, and he did so with abandon, 
drawing in huge gulps of air to not only feed his blood but his tears.  He'd gone 
blind from them.

Omi he could scarcely feel at all.

"STOP IT!" he sobbed wildly as his torment began anew. "Oh... stopstopstop..."

***

Creiddylad only tossed her hair and tensed her fingers as they hovered poised 
about the ring.  The room seemed to have darkened in the time that passed, but 
her pupils had shrunk into near oblivion.  No, her gaze was all dead silver now 
when it could be made out between the writhing phantoms, the shades and the 
wraiths if the instruments Sugigara had died upon.  Omi closed his eyes so he 
would not see them, but they waited under his lashes even more clearly than 
before.  His could hear his lover wailing somewhere behind it all...

"Yuuji..." for nothing else remained to him for comfort.  He wondered if he would 
ever be able to speak again after this.

Silence then, broken by the chime the silver made as it rolled to the floor.  Calm 
had come to her again and so did her gloves as she pulled them from the floor.  
Half naked, and still she insisted to herself she would wear them before lifting 
that bit of jewelry.  It stole down the surfaces of her opponent's gaze and down the 
folds of her corset as she approached him.

Bleeding, bruised and humiliated by any other world's voice, she stood there, all 
pride, just above him, and put shame even in the hearts of the walls.

"Don't EVER tell the person who's torturing you to stop," she hissed.  "It only gets 
them off.  See?"

The less wounded of her hands crept between her legs and up into her cunt for a 
moment.  Giggles at her own touch and her fingers came back shining with her 
juices.

These she stuffed in Yuuji's gaping mouth.  Slapped him.  And finally pulled the 
stud from his ear.  It slid inside her corset and there laid with the ring, of all things 
it might have met.

"I'll give it back to you next time.  Don't worry.  Can I have a souvenir from your 
lover too?"

Without waiting for an answer, her hands alighted on Omi's ear.  The boy was 
wearing hoops though, and the catches of them eluded her gloves for some 
moments.  No troubles for her.  With a shrug, she ripped it down through his lobe.

"Well, I'll see you around, my dear little sheep.  I'll see you around."

And then she left.

***

Yuuji barely noticed her departure. All he knew was that he'd lost the ring again, 
maybe for good despite her parting sallie--but that wasn't as bad as finally 
knowing just how his love had died. A sob sprang from, his lips, drowning out 
Omi's soft, 
mournful plea. He stayed where he had fallen, his ears ringing from the horror to 
which he had been subjected, until he felt the leaden weight of the sorceress's 
spell lift from his body. 
At that point, Yuuji sat bolt upright, jumped to his feet despite the warnings he 
received from his sore muscles, and attempted to make his way to the door. He 
only got half way before he fell to his knees again. 

Yuuji didn't get back up. Instead, he just stayed there, head bowed and shaking all 
over. 

"I couldn't save him. I couldn't help him at all, and I..." Yuuji swallowed back a 
sob. "I loved him." Yuuji fell forward onto his hands. "Sugihara..."

***

Omi did not try to get to his feet, more from having seen what had become of his 
companion's attempt to follow Creiddylad than any ache about his body, though 
there were quite a few.  It felt as if his sinew had all been pulled like taffy while it 
still clung to his bones.  And his torn ear throbbed, almost more with the 
realization he would never ever be able to wear a hoop there again than the actual 
pain.

/Such a childish, vain thing!/

/But I'll... I'll be awful for him to look at! I know I will be, and that's not what he 
needs./

/What he needs is someone you can't ever be.  Someone you don't even know./

But the memories of someone else, still surfacing between his blinks did recall... 
some shred of the boy who had once been in the heart of his beloved.

Still was.

Omi skated across the cold floor on his knees, picking up a film of crimson liquid 
as he moved.  Since he could not pull his lover into his arms, he simply laid down 
beside him, and tucked himself under the tattered wings of his trench.  Said 
nothing, kissed his temple but softly.  Bled a little on his shoulder.  

***

Yuuji wept until his tears were spent, until his heartbeat thundered in his ears for 
lack of ease, and then he stopped, and lay there in a sort of shock. The pain he felt 
from Creiddylad's attack served an anchor, drawing him back bit by bit from the 
emotional abyss she'd flung him in, and at last he lifted his head and looked over 
at Omi. 

The boy's eyes were swimming with sympathetic tears. Yuuji rubbed the sticky 
traces of his own away from his flushed cheeks, rocking back on his knees and 
slipping off his ravaged trench with a pained shiver. 

"Here," he croaked, draping the garment over Omi's naked form. "This should 
serve until we can get your clothes back. If we can." Yuuji's breath hitched in his 
chest, and his eyes 
suddenly squeezed shut, blinking when they opened again. Tucking the edges of 
the coat closer to Omi, he reached for the whipsword, and lashed it around his 
waist. Such a simple, familiar move, and it hurt him so much that he thought he 
might faint. 

He didn't, not even when he got to his feet and found the room had begun to spin 
ever so slowly. He held his hand out to Omi, not sure if he was there at all. 

"Let's get out of here."

***

Omi stood behind his lover for a moment, clutching the now crimson lapels of the 
trench close around him.  The lights had grown dimmer, or the liquid set... one of 
the two, for it 
seemed dark now.  Dried, just a little.  His ear only felt unbearably hot, but it 
longer pained him, and his pulse had slowed so much he could not feel it any 
longer by merely 
holding still.

His eyes though began to drip once again.

"Yuuji..." he murmured, and even his wisp of words his lover found on the air, 
turned to him, trying to smile with his swollen gaze.  "C-can you drive OK?"

A nod.

"You sure, 'cause I can.  I know I can! I..."

He opened his mouth to speak, but he could not in the end, the Crasher, the 
substitute Weiss, the duelist who had lost his duel.  

Omi, weeping once again, had him in his arms, had his lips covered almost 
desperately with his fingers.  They two, uncut perhaps, were red as well and 
darkening to burgundy. 

"Don't fight me! Please don't fight me.  Please! Not ever again! PLEASE!"

They stole into the halls then, leaning on each other and praying they would not 
bee seen.  Peals of laughter and of lust still rang there about the stone, but they 
were much further apart, and laced with the sound of broken glass they both 
cringed at.  The couch in the waiting room held a sleeping Miki with a syringe 
still stuck in his arm.  Omi's clothing lay in a black heap before one open locker, 
all of it but his pink underwear.  That was nowhere to be seen.  

He pulled on his shorts, catching himself in the zipper, for he hurried to keep 
either of them from bleeding too much longer.  His bow beneath his coat had been 
cut to pieces. 

Yuuji took his trench back and stepped out to where the dull thrum of the music 
still lived.

Illimitable darkness there, and a few hoarse moans now and then.   They both 
slipped again and again as they ran through it.  Found themselves pressed against 
the Lucite island by mistake.  

In the distance, he could see the door, weaving open and closed before dawn, or 
the false dawn the signs of Tokyo left.

"I just wanna go home!" He wailed the last time he fell, though rising into the 
light, he found himself swathed in the down of silver glitter from someone's 
broken bottle.

*****