Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Colour Me Blood Red	By : DragonBlade Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2324 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own prince of tennis, characters or ideas, and I am making no money from this

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
I really have no idea how Sanada became such an asshole, I really don't. And I'm kind of ruining the end of this story, but what happens to Kaidoh is totally the anime's fault! That damn Chibi episode where Akutsu puts him in handcuffs!! I swear!

Okay, I have no god damn idea what colour Kenya's hair is! In the anime and in the Myu's he's a brunet, but I've seen a lot of fan art where he's blond, and in some fics he's blond, and in Tte Iina (Konomi Takeshi's single) in the little comic he drew he's blond, but on the actual CD cover thing he's a brunet ...so I have no frigging idea! So he's blond in this story cause it's funny. And according to some information thing from the manga he spends his money on hair bleach ..well, you don't get brunet from bleaching.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 24

It was high noon and no one had heard from Momoshiro or Kaidoh yet. Sunlight poured in from the large bay windows to fill empty hallways. Most of the Hunters were either out enjoying the day, or out wandering the roads in hopes of spotting their comrades.

Ryoma had opted to stay at the head quarters in case either of the two showed up or called. He sat slumped over his desk; half his mind on his phone, the other on the group of Hunters gathered around a desk a few rows behind him.

Saeki Kojirou had offered the services of his group while the others closer to the missing Hunters searched for them. Saeki had spread a map out on an empty desk and was circling spots in a red pen. Reports of re-animated entering the edges of the city had come in, and Saeki had offered to take his team out to the familiar nest spots. After Kirihara had killed one of the fledglings, the nests seemed to stop growing, but their good fortune didn’t last long.

Kurobane Harukaze stood shoulder to shoulder with Amane Hikaru, their hushed voices blending as they argued quietly over what would be a more likely area. Saeki’s soft voice, slightly frustrated, washed over the two and they fell silent. Atsushi stood behind his brother’s shoulder; Ryou had refused to let his little brother out of his sight and had fought with Tezuka about it. Saeki eventually stepped in on Ryou’s behalf and Tezuka agreed to let the twin join his group.

Ryoma sighed when he caught Aoi Kentarou peeking around Saeki’s shoulder at him, for the third time in the past 5 minutes. The Rookie smiled at him and Ryoma sighed again.

Where the hell was Momo?

Was Dan’s prediction right? Did the Vampires he worked for do something?

No, that couldn’t happen. Not to Momo.

He slid his arms across his desk and pillowed his cheek in the crook of his elbow, his cell phone bumped off his arm and he glanced at the silent device. He had tried phoning Momoshiro several times, but the phone always went straight to voice mail. Momoshiro always answered his phone when he was calling, even if it was just to tell him he was busy and would call him back. Momo never missed his phone calls.

The one time he missed a call he had bought Ryoma a small cat figuring as an apology. The small glass feline sat on the edge of his desk, its large yellow eyes staring across at him. He had been meaning to ask Momo where he found it, it looked exactly like his cat Karupin and he kind of wanted to get a few more.

Tezuka passed by the entrance to the office, Oishi and the Shape-shifter Kikumaru on his heels. The Captain shook his head and Oishi threw his hands out wide. They were arguing about something; Oishi’s normally calm demeanor was ruined by quick hand gestures and rigid body language. Tezuka looked as calm as usual, the only indication that he was irritated was by the quickness of his stride.

The sudden buzzing of his desk startled Ryoma from his musings, he threw his arms up and found his phone flashing and bouncing towards the edge of his desk. He glanced around and noticed the group of Hunters all watching him. Turning back quickly to hide his blush he checked the call display; unknown name and unknown number. Who the hell could that be?

He flipped it open, “yeah?” If this wasn’t important he was going to be pissed!

“ …Echizen …”

Ryoma jumped to his feet, even though the voice was scratchy and quiet he could place it anywhere! “TEZUKA!!”

Aoi stretched his tall frame to tower over the rest of his group, who all jumped and spun around to face the normally quiet Hunter. Ryoma never yelled, or rarely spoke for that matter. Saeki waved his hand to settled down his Hunters and rounded the desk to go over to the obviously upset Rookie.

Tezuka backtracked and rushed into the office, he was as unused to hearing Ryoma yell as the rest of them, “what is it Echizen?”

Ryoma held his phone out, eyes wide in fear, “Momo.”

Tezuka grabbed the cell phone, “Momoshiro?”

“Captain, they took him, they fucking took him!” Momoshiro’s voice cracked and when he tried to explain more he broke into a coughing fit.

“Calm down Momo, tell me where you are and I’ll send someone to pick you up. I just need you to stay calm.” Tezuka flagged down Oishi and pointed to his cell phone. The Hunter frowned and flipped it out of the belt holster.

Tezuka nodded as he punched the directions into the cell phone and mass texted it to every Hunter. Whoever was closest was to get there immediately.

Ishida Tetsu and Sakurai Masaya happened to be in the neighborhood and pulled a quick illegal u-turn as soon as Ishida read the text. He sent one back to Oishi’s cell that they were on their way and Tezuka, still on the phone with Momoshiro, sent out another mass to let everyone know who was on the way there.

Tezuka caught Ryoma watching him and waved him back over. The Rookie, golden eyes wide, came up beside him. He was handed back the phone with strict instructions to keep Momoshiro talking until help got there. Ryoma cradled the phone against his shoulder as he talked quietly to the other Hunter. Momoshiro’s voice was deeper than usual, some words slightly slurred. He would cough or spit every once in a while, apologizing immediately after.

Sakurai cursed as he followed the maze of back roads; Momoshiro was close to his house, but he was in a small path that wasn’t easily accessible. The path was rarely used because it was not well lit and too secluded for safety. A new path had been made with much better lighting, but it was further away from some of the townhouses.

A bench was put near the mouth of the old path and a payphone booth. The bench was weather beaten and cracked and the payphone was constantly broken by thieves trying to get the abundance of quarters.

Momoshiro was slouched on the bench when Sakurai eventually found the right road to take them there. Ishida hopped out of the car and rushed to the Hunter. Momoshiro opened a blood-shot violet eye, the other swollen shut.

“Yo.” His lip was split and there was a large swollen bruise on the entire side of his face. His shirt was ripped in several places and dried blood decorated the rest. His right arm hung limply at his side, palm turned up to show three purple fingers. His left stretched out as he hung up the payphone, it was bruised and scratched, but nothing looked broken. Both of his long legs were stretched out in front of him, jeans ripped and soaked in blood. He was missing the boot from his left foot, which was twisted and swollen.

“Damn,” Ishida swore softly.

“Don’t worry, they looked worse,” Momoshiro grinned.

“I should hope so,” he sighed, features turning soft in worry.

Sakurai drove further ahead to turn the car around, and came back to park up on the curb so Ishida and Momoshiro didn’t have far to walk. Momoshiro held his left hand out and Ishida bent his tall frame down to support the smaller man across his shoulders. He wrapped his opposite arm around Momo’s waist and found wet blood.

“Jesus,” he cursed, moving his hand to get away from the injury and hope he didn’t hurt the Hunter further.

Momoshiro winced as he was half guided and half dragged to Sakurai’s car. Ishida squatted down beside the back passenger door to help Momo slide into the back. “What happened?” he asked.

Momo lifted his injured leg into the car, his one good eye shining as he fought back tears, “Kaidoh and I always walk this way, I just hop the fence half way and Kaidoh’s at the end. I was saying good bye when they started spilling over the fences on either side of us, it was a god damned ambush. Vampires and humans. That big guy that attacked Sanada-san’s place, Akutsu or something? He was there, and his little ginger Vampire …uhh …Sen-something. He held me down while some humans beat the shit out of me, then they knocked Mamushi out and fucking took him. I don’t know why! They took him and left me here!” Momoshiro leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the back of the seat as he cried. His shoulders shook as he inhaled sharply.

Ishida glanced past the distraught Hunter at his own partner, what would he have done if he was in that position?

He gently rubbed the back of Momoshiro’s neck, “we’ll find him. Whatever it takes.”

The Hunter nodded, turning his head from the bigger Hunter to lean against the back seat, tears still trailing down his cheek. Ishida closed the door and climbed into the front seat.

The ride back was filled with Momoshiro’s hisses and grunts of pain, every turn and bump jolted his injuries. Sakurai took as many side streets and well paved roads as he could to keep away from bumps and street lights. The Hunter started to turn pale, his breathing getting deep.

“You gonna make it?” Ishida turned around in his seat.

“I don’t feel so hot,” Momoshiro clenched his eyes tight, “can you open a window or something?”

“Yeah sure,” Ishida turned worried eyes to his partner before thumbing the controls to put down all the windows.

Cool breeze swept through the car, stirring up everyone’s hair. The tightness in Momoshiro’s face seemed to vanish, but his colour got worse.

“We’re almost there,” Sakurai continuously checked the rear view to keep an eye on the Hunter, “if you need to stop let me know.”

They pulled into the parking garage without incident, but as soon as they stopped Momoshiro pushed open the door and leaned out. He coughed as he dry-heaved and spat out bile, having nothing in his stomach to vomit. Sakurai phoned into the desk as Ishida rubbed Momoshiro’s back. Oishi and a team of nurses came out of the elevator shortly after, one of the girls pushing a wheelchair.

Momoshiro waved Ishida off, nodding as he explained he was alright. Oishi helped the slightly smaller male into the wheelchair and pushed it back to the elevator. Ishida rushed ahead to hold the doors.

“I want to see Tezuka first,” Momoshiro stuck his good foot into the door, eyes determined.

“You need to go to the clinic,” Oishi argued.

“After. I gotta talk to Tezuka!” Momoshiro went to push himself out of the wheelchair but both men grabbed his shoulders and forced him back down.

“All right! All right, we’ll go see Tezuka, then you’re going straight to the clinic afterward!”

Tezuka was on the fourth floor in one of the conference rooms with Dan Taichi. The boy shook his head as Tezuka asked his questions. Yuuta stood next to Tezuka’s shoulder, shrugging.

“He doesn’t know anything Tezuka, he’s telling the truth,” Yuuta sighed; he was getting tired from scanning through Dan’s frantic emotions. The kid knew something but he was so scared and worried that all his thoughts were a jumbled mess. Yuuta rubbed his temples; he really wasn’t trained for this.

A knock at the door made them both turn; Dan lifted a pale face when the door cracked open.

Oishi stuck his head into the room, “Momoshiro wishes to talk to you, he wouldn’t let us take him to the clinic until then.”

Tezuka nodded and left the room.

Yuuta turned to the boy, “you do know something.”

Dan’s eyes widened, “I swear I don’t desu.”

Yuuta tilted his head, “I’ve seen what you’re thinking, you know something, you’re just not sure if it’s the right thing.”

Dan turned from the telepath, “maybe …”

The door burst open with a frantic shout of ‘Momoshiro!’ and the Hunter staggered into the room. Yuuta turned to grab him but he was tossed aside by a shoulder to the chest. Dan jumped up from his chair, eyes wide with fear.

“Where the fuck is he?!” in a fit of rage Momo flipped the small table.

The boy winced and cowered back, but the Hunter grabbed him with his good arm and slammed him into the wall.

“Momoshiro-san!” Yuuta grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull him away from the boy. Momoshiro flung out his good arm and knocked Yuuta back.

He slammed Dan into the wall again, “what did they do with him? They took my partner, you know where he is!”

Dan scratched at Momo’s forearms and shook his head, “no I don’t!” His voice broke as he frantically shook his head.

“They told me you would know what to do!” He knocked him back again, “don’t fucking lie you little vampire slut!” Momoshiro’s voice cracked as a sob escaped. He kept his grip on Dan’s shirt as he sank to his knees.

Oishi and Tezuka stood back as the Hunter cried into the front of the boy’s shirt. Dan’s terrified expression softened to sadness then pity as he brushed back Momo’s hair.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I don’t know where they took him, but I think I know where Akutsu will be waiting for you.” He looked up at Tezuka, “the only way you will get him back is if you trade him for me.”

The Captain squared his shoulders, he’d do whatever it took to get his Hunter back.

It was 1am and the club was still packed wall to wall, sweat-slicked bodies weaved and swayed together under the multi-coloured lights. The deal was that Tezuka was to go alone, with one Hunter if he felt he needed it, and to bring Dan.

Because Tezuka was no fool, he had as many Hunters as he could manage filtered around the club. He had called in favors from Shiraishi and Atobe and their Hunters and Vampires were also located around the club. None of the Hunters were to acknowledge one another, but to act like patrons of the dance club. No one knew exactly how many were in the club, but the Hunters had been split almost completely in half; half in the club, and half on the streets waiting for the call.

Kirihara leaned against the bar, beer dangling from his left hand. As per Tezuka’s instructions, he dressed like he belonged in that club. He dragged out his old clubbing uniform; faded skin tight acid wash jeans with rips across the thighs, thick black studded belt, layered tank-tops; white over black with rips through the chest to show the black underneath, and a loose scarf. So it was a little feminine, but the loose tank tops hid his gun which was tucked down the back of his jeans and the scarf hid the hilt of the long knife he had down his spine. His combat boots were the perfect place to keep a back up gun and an extra knife. No one could ever say he wasn’t prepared.

He had noticed other Hunters moving through the crowd, but no one even spared a glance. Jackal passed him, a girl with her breasts practically falling out of her tiny halter top on his arm. The Hunter was dressed in skin tight black jeans and a slate grey shirt unbuttoned to almost his navel. Kirihara couldn’t see where he was hiding a weapon, but he knew Kuwahara-san was probably packing more than he was.

Kirihara licked his lips, every once in a while he regretted that he and Jackal hadn’t worked out – now was one of those times. Ishida and Sakurai sat at a far table, a single light casting a green glare across them. The taller Hunter had replaced his regular white bandanna with a patterned black one. He stretched his long arms out along the back of the booth, long legs stretched out under the table. Sakurai leaned his elbows on the table, hands clasped over his beer. Their eyes met and the other Hunters winked at Kirihara before turning his head.

Yuuta was on the dance floor, almost lost in the large tight crowd. He had changed his normal tee-shirt for a black fishnet shirt, the dark material setting off the thick silver chain around his neck. A studded belt held his pants low on his hips, the baggy material bunched up around his groin when his older brother ground up against him. The Vampire ran his hands up Yuuta’s thighs as he rolled his hips languidly over him. At first glance Fuji could have easily been mistaken for a girl. His tight pleather pants clung to his legs like a second skin, the white studded belt making his skin seem even paler. His hips bones jutted out as he rolled them again. His shirt hung off his shoulders, the ruffled material could have easily hidden a pair of small breasts if he was a woman. Yuuta slid his hands down Fuji’s hips, pulling them back against himself as the Vampire took a step too far away.

He was watching the pair when he felt someone slide up next to him. Without looking he knew by the way his blood seemed to heat who it was. “What is it Kamio?”

“I wanted to apologize …” he slid up closer to Kirihara’s side, “I know I’m breaking Tezuka’s rule, but you won’t answer my calls.”

Kirihara glanced at Kamio out of the corner of his eye and realized right away that that was a bad idea. The Hunter was wearing a tight tee-shirt that rolled up enough to show his hip bones when he moved, tight plaid pants sat low on his hips. Black lace-up boots reached almost to his knees, the first few holes left unlaced. Kirihara looked away immediately before his eyes lingered to long on those sharp hip bones. He knew what those bones felt like under his hands, sharp but firm. Those long legs, deceivingly muscular, under his hands, against his hips. He inhaled sharply and chugged his beer. This was bad.

“I’ve been busy lately,” it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me, tell me what I can do to make it up to you,” Kamio touched his arm tentatively.

That simple touch was like electricity across his kin, straight to certain places below his belt.

Fuck.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kirihara shrugged, offering Kamio a sip from his bottle.

Kamio’s eyes widened, “what?” His hand fell back to his side.

Kirihara frowned and turned to face him, “I’m over it. I’ve kind of come to an …agreement with myself, I don’t hold it against you, seriously.” Looking at Kamio directly was worse than simply glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. It had only been a few days since they had fought, but they were three long days. So much had happened that it felt like a month. There was no denying that he was in lust with Kamio, even being pissed with him couldn’t quell that.

Kamio’s eyes managed to get wider, “that was really …mature of you.”

“You trying to say I’m immature?!” He couldn’t fight the smirk as it crept up on him. He hated being mad at his friends, even if they deserved it. He was good at it, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it …at least not always. His anger fueled his strength, but his anger didn’t always come from the right place.

Kamio shrugged and smirked, “if the shoe fits.”

“Fuck you Akira,” Kirihara smirked.

Kamio pressed along his side and tilted his head to whisper in his ear, “that’s the plan.”

Kirihara choked on his beer, leave it to Kamio to have the one track mind at the worse of times. “We’re at work Kamio!”

“When has that ever stopped us?” He stepped in front of Kirihara, hands on the bar behind him.

Good point.

Kamio rolled his hips in time with the music, his tight shirt rolling up as he moved, flashing more of the muscles in his stomach. He hooked one leg around Kirihara’s, using it as a support as he ground his hips against Kirihara. He pivoted on that leg so his backside was pressed against the others groin instead. He planted his hands back on the bars edge and rolled his hips hard. A light hiss escaped Kirihara’s lips as he grew hard, this was bad.

Stupid Kamio.

Kamio reclined back against him, mouth hovering over the curve of his jaw. His hand trailed down the other side of Kirihara’s neck.

Feeling his body flush against his own was the last straw. Kirihara dug his fingers into those sharp hips, “bathroom, NOW!”

Kamio grabbed his hand and dragged him into the men's bathroom. Unlike a women’s bathroom it was empty, Kirihara spun Kamio around and shoved him. The Hunter grinned as he swayed his hips and walked backwards into the stall. Kirihara’s eyes followed his hips as he stalked forward. The door slammed behind him and he slid the lock in place. Kamio fell upon him immediately, knocking him back against the door. Their mouths met in a heated and messy kiss, moans and gasps creeping out through their parted lips.

Kirihara tugged at Kamio’s belt, they needed to be quick, in case Tezuka showed up or something else happened. Kamio palmed him through his pants and he hissed against his mouth. Kamio chuckled when he gave a particularly harsh tug at his belt. He knocked the others hands away and undid the belt himself. Unbuttoning the tight pants he spun Kamio around and forced him up against the side of the stall. He was strong for his size, but he wasn’t strong enough or tall enough to hold Kamio up.

“Hold on!” Kamio gasped, twisting to push his hand against Kirihara’s chest, “let me suck you.”

Kirihara grinned and stepped back, a wicked grin spreading across his face. It had been a while since he had someone offer to blow him. He undid his belt as Kamio dropped to his knees on the dirty floor and popped the button and fly on his jeans. Teasing him out of his boxers he swallowed him almost completely. Kirihara gasped, letting his head fall back. He threaded his fingers through Kamio’s hair, grip just this side of being painful. Kamio moaned, sucking harder. He massaged the underside with his tongue, using a gentle pressure on Kirihara’s thighs to urge him to rock his hips. Kirihara watched through a glazed vision as he slid in and out of Kamio’s mouth, it had been entirely too long.

He pushed Kamio away from him with a hoarse, “I’m wet enough.” He kept trying to remind himself that they were trying to be quick, no matter how badly he wanted to come in that pretty little mouth.

Kamio stood back up and turned around, bracing his chest against the stall and arching his hips out. Because of their similarities in height this was the only way they could do it while standing. Kirihara peeled Kamio’s pants down his thighs and pushed two slicked fingers into him.

The red-head hissed, “don’t worry about that!”

His fingers curled inside of him, silencing the Hunter. He didn’t want to explain to Kamio that he knew what it was like to be ripped, and really didn’t want to hurt him. Instead he made the Hunter squirm and moan against the wall. He knew it wasn’t good enough, but Kamio was getting frantic, his hips pressing back against his hand.

Kirihara guided himself in, Kamio’s breath came out in a long sigh. He slid in slowly, and then back out just as slowly. A keening started deep in Kamio’s throat and he thrust his hips back, hands stretching up the wall. Pressing his mouth to the back of Kamio’s neck he snapped his hips forward. A scream was ripped from Kamio’s throat, his body shuddering.

Kirihara tightened his grip on Kamio’s thin hips and continued to slam into him, at this pace he wouldn’t last long. From the tremor in Kamio’s body, he wouldn’t last either. Kamio braced his forearm on the wall and arched his hips further back. He threw his head back and moaned, hand grasping himself. He pumped himself in time with Kirihara’s thrusts. His knees trembled and he had to spread his feet further and press more of his chest against the stall to keep his body some-what steady.

Kirihara leaned against his back, mouth against his neck. He slid one hand as far down Kamio’s thigh as he could reach, fingers finding the soft insides; his other hand slid up his stomach, holding him tight against his own chest.

“We need to hurry,” Kamio whimpered, “oh god I don’t want this to end!”

Kirihara kissed the side of his neck, “I know,” his voice was strained. This was a bad idea, but bad ideas always seemed to be the most fun.

After a few more rough thrusts Kamio came, screaming and arching in upon himself. He was close enough to the wall to coat it as well as his hand. Kirihara cursed and came, thrusting himself in as deeply as he could. He braced both hands on the wall next to Kamio’s head so he didn’t collapse and crush the other Hunter.

They stayed together, panting hard. Kamio was warm and tight, he didn’t want to pull out. With a sigh he slowly leaned back and let gravity pull him from that tight passage. Kamio whined as he was emptied, semen trailing down his leg after wards. He pushed Kirihara back enough to step around him to the toilet, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to clean himself off. After washing and straightening their clothing they slipped from the bathroom, hoping no one noticed their absence.

Kamio suddenly wrapped his arms around Kirihara from behind him, head tucked into the curve of his shoulder, “I’m so sorry about everything. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

Kirihara leaned back against him, brushing his mouth against the top of his head.

“In some weird way I think I love you,” Kamio chuckled, turning his head to brush his lips against Kirihara’s jaw.

Kirihara smiled, “same here.”

A familiar red head slipped through the crowd in front of them and Kirihara jumped in shock, pushing Kamio’s hands off of his chest. The fledgling twin weaved his way through the crowd, oblivious to the Hunters no more than five feet from him. Without thinking Kirihara reached down his back for his gun but faster than his eyes could keep up he felt an arm wrap around his waist to grip his wrist. He jerked his hand but it was locked solid against his back. His hand was jerked, forcing the gun back into the holster.

“You wanna blow our cover?” A voice hissed into his ear, bottom lip rubbing his piercing.

The deep voice wasn’t familiar, the accent putting him a few districts over. His face was almost buried in the curve of the male’s neck, he caught a whiff of cologne, something expensive. White-blond hair brushed his cheekbone, white-blond? Probably a bleach job.

“Don’t draw your fucking weapon around so many civilians! We’re still trying to clear the place so Tezuka will have a safe exchange.” His deep voice caused a shiver to run down Kirihara’s spine. The male chuckled and pressed his fingers hard into Kirihara’s wrists, forcing him to open his fingers. He pulled his hand from the gun and twisted his arm up, making the Hunter grunt in pain.

“Fuck off,” Kirihara hissed, baring his teeth.

“Let him go Oshitari-san,” another male came up behind the first and rolled his eyes. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his ripped jeans, a black band tee tucked into his belt.

The blond looked over his shoulder, “you’re ruining my fun Zaizen!”

Zaizen rolled his eyes again, “I thought you were trying to stop him from making a scene, not make a bigger one.”

He released Kirihara’s wrist and stepped back, “you’re a brat Zaizen.” He turned his attention back to Kirihara, “I’m Oshitari Kenya.”

Kamio seemed to recover from his shock, “I’ve heard of you, you’re part of Shiraishi’s team.”

Kenya let his eyes slowly scan over Kamio before he nodded.

Kamio flinched, crossing his arms, “what are you?” He hissed.

Kenya smirked and raised a dark eyebrow, “what?”

“No one moves faster than me, I didn’t even see you move until you grabbed him.” Kamio stepped forward, as if he was intending to put himself between Kirihara and the new male.

Kenya’s grin only widened, he opened his mouth to retort but Zaizen elbowed him in the side.

Kirihara gently pushed Kamio aside with a hand on his arm, “and what is our dear old middle man doing picking sides?”

Kenya’s lip curled as he snarled, he pulled Zaizen’s elbow as he forced him back, “Shiraishi respects Tezuka and when your Captain asks for help, we help.”

“Won’t that get you in trouble with all those other Vampires that have you wrapped around their finger?”

“Akaya!” Kamio hissed.

“The ones that we deal with agree with our choices, they don’t like the shit that’s happening any more than we humans do -” Kenya bit back another retort, eyes flicking to Zaizen’s arm.

“We humans? Oh good, you still consider yourself one of us lower beings,” Kirihara grinned.

Zaizen grabbed Kenya’s arm when the blond took a threatening step forward. “Leave it Oshitari-san, he’s baiting you.”

Kenya threw off his hand, “the little demon better learn to watch his tongue before someone cuts it out.”

Kirihara’s grin only widened. It was a shame Kenya’s partner was level headed enough to stop him, Kirihara as almost looking forward to a fight. Kenya snarled at him and turned abruptly, Zaizen sighed heavily and trailed after the older male.

“You’re such an ass,” Kamio jabbed Kirihara hard in the ribs.

Kenya slipped through the crowd with a dancer’s grace, Zaizen falling behind him. The younger male growled in frustration and shouldered people out of his way. He managed to catch up with the blond when he stepped on the dance floor.

“Oi!” He grabbed Kenya’s arm and yanked him back. “What’s your problem?”

Kenya grinned and spun around, knocking Zaizen off balance. The smaller male staggered forward, only to be caught by his partner’s strong arms. Nimble fingers clicked his earrings together, a moan slipped from his throat before he could stop it.

“Maybe we should slip off into the bathroom …” Kenya whispered into his ear.

Zaizen planted both hands on the others chest and shoved him back hard. Kenya staggered back laughing at the blush on the younger male’s cheeks.

“You’re avoiding my question!” He plucked nervously at his earrings, he hated when his teammates used them against him.

“I just don’t like him.” He turned on his heel and slipped into the dancing crowd.

Zaizen threw his hands up in defeat, his partner was useless.

Tezuka, Tachibana, and Shiraishi entered the bar with Dan in tow. The small male weaved through the crowd, checking back every once in a while to make sure the three were still behind him. Dan led them to the furthest corner of the bar, far from the bright lights of the main floor.

A tall Vampire stood up once they reached the table; he was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white button down dress shirt. His grey hair was spiked and a cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. “Welcome,” he bowed his head and swept his arms out wide.

“Akutsu Jin?” Tezuka asked.

The Vampire smiled, “at your service.” He reclined back in the booth, long legs extended out in front of him. He stretched his arms across the back of the seat, tapping another male on the shoulder.

Sengoku turned slightly in the seat, leaning back to prop his shoulder against Akutsu’s chest. The Vampire on the other side of Akutsu adjusted his silver framed goggles, blue lenses hiding the eyes that roamed over the Hunters. He leaned into Akutsu, whispering into his ear.

“Weapons? Come now Tezuka-san, we’re all friends here,” Akutsu smirked.

Tezuka’s hand twitched towards the gun on his hip, concealed behind his loose dress shirt, “I don’t trust my friends either.”

Akutsu laughed, grin growing wider.

“Where is my Hunter?” Tezuka interrupted his laughter, getting irritated with the drawn out dialogue.

Tachibana and Shiraishi scanned the crowd around them, energy prickled through the masses, making them nervous. Shiraishi hooked his hands into the belt loops of his loose jeans, foot tapping to the beat of the music. Brown eyes darted through the crowd, searching for the source of the energy, the only visible sign in his relaxed slouch to show that he was nervous.

“Tezuka …” Tachibana’s voice was low in warning.

“Now Akutsu,” Tezuka barked.

Akutsu frowned and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, “he’s not here, but I will tell you where we have kept him.”

“Is he alive?” In his peripheral vision he saw Tachibana and Shiraishi’s heads snap in his direction.

Akutsu laughed, “smart man, but yes, he’s alive. Just barely.”

It was Tezuka’s turn to tense, “tell us where he is or we walk out of here with Dan and rip this city apart to find him on our own.” Energy danced over his skin and he realized they weren’t alone, not by a long shot. Vampires had integrated themselves into every aspect of human life, but that night, it seemed they were all there.

Akutsu shrugged, but gave them the directions to where they were holding Kaidoh. It was an old apartment building on the complete opposite end of town to where they had first stumbled upon his lair. The apartment was due to be demolished in a few months to make room for a new strip mall, so there was no worry of a civilian stumbling upon them.

Tachibana forwarded the directions to all the Hunters outside of the bar, along with the warning to be careful, they had no idea what they would be walking into.

Shiraishi placed his hand on Tezuka’s shoulder before slipping into the crowd; he had pinpointed a pocket of that energy. Sliding through the wave of bodies he caught glimpses of a powerful aura, almost like the air above a fire. Every time he was close enough to get a look at whomever it was his senses seemed to throw him off and he found himself lost in the crowed and forced to start his search over. Finally finding a break in the crowd he stepped out into the open, eyes darting around for the energy.

A strong hand clamped onto his shoulder and a thickly accented voice hissed into his ear, “I’d go back the way you came Hunter.”

Shiraishi glanced over his shoulder and only caught a glimpse of auburn hair and a ball cap pulled low over their eyes when he was hit. Magic, if it could be called that, washed over his body and into his skin. He managed to pull up his natural defenses when he felt that coldness start to sink deeper into his body, stopping it before he passed out.

“Shiraishi!”

“Shiraishi-san!”

Two pairs of arms caught him as his legs buckled. He grabbed Zaizen around the neck and pulled him down, pressing their mouths together. The younger male opened his lips and let Shiraishi feed off his energy, boosting his own defenses so he could push off the spell.

They broke the kiss with a gasp, Shiraishi’s eyes coming back into focus.

“What the hell was that?” Kenya guided Shiraishi to his knees, letting him lean back against his legs.

“The witch is here,” Shiraishi inhaled deeply, trying to get his body back in order, “I almost saw someone they’re working with, but they threw that spell at me before I got a good look at him.”

When Shiraishi slipped away from him Tezuka turned his attention back to Akutsu, his hand still on Dan’s shoulder. He wasn’t a man to go back on his deal so he let his hand fall from the boy. Dan darted away almost as soon as Tezuka let him go. He crawled into the circle of Akutsu’s arms, cuddling against his chest. The Vampire pet his hair fondly, moving so Dan could shift into his lap.

“Our deal is over, next time we meet, it won’t end so civilized.” Tezuka’s deep voice came out in a bitter hiss.

Akutsu smiled enough to expose long fangs, “I look forward to that time.”

Phones all over town vibrated and rang with directions. Atobe’s hunters, Shishido Ryou and Otori Choutarou were the first to the building, Shiraishi’s men Konjiku Koharu and Hitouji Yuuji arrived shortly after.

The building was fenced off and the grounds were torn up and littered with stacks of planks and blocks of cement. Not bothering to be subtle Shishido kicked through the glass front door. The shattered pane of glass fractured and rained down around his leg, covering the cement floor. Shishido stepped through the frame, gun drawn. He flashed his torch around the floor, but the lobby was empty. Otori had to bend his large frame down to slip in the doorway without catching himself on jagged pieces of glass. The ground crackled under his feet and he sighed, so much for going unnoticed.

“Shishido-kun is so manly!” Konjiku clasped his hands together as he wiggled his hips. Hitouji jabbed him sharply in the waist and motioned him to follow the two Hunters.

“What room is he in?” Otori called back over his shoulder, he didn’t bother with whispering, Shishido’s entrance probably alerted everyone within a block radius.

“213,” Konjiku replied.

Finding the emergency stair case they left Hitouji at the bottom to guard their backs so they weren’t ambushed as they ran up to the second floor. The door was busted open on it’s hinges, Shishido leaned against the opposite frame and scanned his flashlight across the hall.

“Everything’s empty, this is too weird,” he hissed.

They found the room at the far end of the hall. It was a basic wooden door with the 3 hanging slightly off centre. Shishido grabbed the handle and rattled it, locked. He stepped back to get enough range to kick it in but Otori grabbed his arm.

“Maybe we should wait for the others?”

“Tezuka’s boy needs us now, I don’t think we have time to wait,” Shishido hissed.

“I agree with Shishido,” Hitouji nodded, “we have no idea how long the others will take, and Kaidoh needs us now.”

“Do we really need to go kicking in more doors though?” Otori argued; he knew Shishido was the destructive type, but this was a little ridiculous.

Shishido shrugged and before anyone else could offer a better suggestion he swung around and planted a boot into the centre of the door. It cracked down the centre, old warped wood splintering. He wound up again and kicked, shattering the bolt. The door swung back on its hinges and crashed into the wall.

All four screamed in surprise as more than a dozen re-animated Vampires fell out the door. The majority leapt on Shishido, being the closest to them, and buried him in a pile of wailing and thrashing bodies. He screamed in pain as several fingers and teeth pierced his skin. Being unprepared his hands were blocked from getting to his shoulder holster. He locked his arm into the mouth of one re-animated trying to get at his face and tried his best to get his other arm free to get his weapon.

Otori fired at the zombies closest to him, not wanting to risk firing into the pile of Vampires and hit Shishido. Hitouji carried two guns and fired both with equal skill, Konjiku reached from behind him to take out the knees while Hitouji lined up a head shot.

Shishido managed to wrap his fingers around the butt of his gun and yanked it out of the holster, flicking the safety as he unloaded the clip. The re-animated that took a bullet leapt off of him and attempted to scurry back into the apartment. It clicked empty and with a curse he tossed it aside. With fewer bodies on him he was able to plant his feet in a few and throw them off of him.

A Shotgun rang out in the silence, the scatter shot taking out the two zombie’s on top of Shishido. He yelled in shock and with his free hand managed to grab his back up and blasted the head of the last zombie. “You could have fucking hit me!”

“You’re welcome,” Ryoma grinned, shouldering the shotgun.

Echizen, Oishi and Kikumaru helped take out the initial flood of zombie’s. Once the hall was filled with dead Vampires Oishi slipped into the apartment first. Another wave of re-animated met them, but with the reinforcements they were able to clear out the ambling creatures.

“Kaidoh!” Oishi called into the room.

No reply.

They fanned out to search every room in the large two-bedroom apartment. Otori shouldered open one of the bedroom doors, gun hand leading into the room. The light from the boarded window lit the room in small patches. A white patch of moonlight fell over a bloodied and bruised hip lying on a trashed mattress. With a soft curse Otori crossed the room and dropped next to the mattress. Kaidoh was handcuffed to the old cast iron frame of the bed; his battered body was covered in dried and fresh blood. Otori tilted the Hunter’s head, pressing his fingers to his neck to find the pulse. He cursed again and took off his trench coat to drape over the nude Hunter.

“I found him!” He called.

Oishi was the first one into the room. He stopped dead at the sight of Kaidoh on the bloodied mattress. His hands flew to his mouth as he gasped in shock. His opposite hand swung around the door frame, stopping Eiji as he was about to follow him into the room. The shape-shifter sniffed the air and clasped his hands over his mouth, tears beaded in the corners of his deep blue eyes.

“Does anyone have a lock pick with them?” Oishi’s voice sounded strangled.

“I do,” Shishido stepped into the room, eyes hardened. He squatted next to the bed and went to work on popping the handcuffs. They soon clicked open and he gently bent Kaidoh’s stiff arms back to his sides.

“He’s alive, but just barely. I think it would have been kinder for them to have killed him.” Otori shook his head. Being the biggest one there, he was the best choice for carrying Kaidoh’s large frame.

Shishido kicked at one of the bodies he felled, “it’s a mother fucking zombie!”

Hitouji frowned, “uh, we all noticed that …”

“No, I’m serious, like, dawn of the dead bra~ains kind of zombie!” Shishido staggered on the spot and held his arms out to emphasize his point.

“What?!” They all cried in unison.

Shishido flipped the corpse onto its back. The body looked like it had been decomposing for a few months, smelled like it as well.

Konjiku covered his nose as he bent closer to get a better look. “Vampires can’t raise actual zombies.”

“Black magic can,” Oishi replied. He wiped his hand down his face, “there is a witch working with Akutsu.”

Shishido kicked the zombie again, “fucking powerful one then. I don't know too many witches that can or will raise a zombie ...something about it being an abomination or some shit?”

Ryoma quickly looked out into the hall before going back into the apartment with the others, “I vote we torch this place. We don’t know where else they’ve stashed these things.”

“Agreed.”

While Shishido, Otori, Konjiku and Hitouji set up to burn down the old apartment building, Oishi and Eiji settled Kaidoh into the back of Oishi’s truck. Oishi called Kaidoh’s parents; his mother was relieved that he was found. They wanted to meet them at the Organization but Oishi persuaded them that it would be better if they waited. His next call was to Tezuka to let the Captain know they had found him, and to let him know that the witch was still working with Akutsu.

Shishido threw the gas can into the doorway, he looked to his partner who nodded. “Look Oishi, you guys might as well get Kaidoh out of here. It’ll be easier for one car to outrun the cops, not a whole fleet of them. Besides, I don’t think it would be a good idea to lead them back to Tezuka. I hear he's still knee deep in shit because of that little demon elf.”

Oishi opened his mouth to argue but Otori held up a hand, “Oishi-san, please, Kaidoh needs to get out of here, Shishido-san and I are fine.”

The Hunter frowned and after Eiji’s persistent reminder that Kaidoh needed to get back to Inui he nodded and climbed into his truck.

Shishido fished a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and flipped a single out. Otori clicked his tongue and glared at his smaller partner.

“What?” Shishido chuckled, lighting the cigarette. He set off the entire pack of matches and threw it into their pile of fire starter.

The pair set the building off and went back to their car to watch it burn. Otori leaned against the driver’s door, arms crossed over his chest. Shishido slid up beside him, head tucked into the curve of his neck.

“You know, we’ve never had sex next to a burning building before …” he trailed his tongue along the curve of his exposed collar bone.

Otori chuckled, “I can hear sirens.”

“You and your superhuman hearing …they might still be really far off.” His cigarette dropped, forgotten at his feet as he twisted around so he was pressed against Otori’s chest.

Otori ran his fingers through Shishido’s short hair, “even for a quickie, we both know I’m not that quick.”

Shishido sighed, defeated, no matter how much he begged or whined he knew there was no way to change Choutarou’s mind. “Then I guess we better go before I’m able to hear them, I’d rather not spend the night locked up.”
- 23
- 24
- 25
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Colour Me Blood Red