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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
I just want to thank the moderators (not that they'll read this anyway), I'm not able to open a lot of browsers, so I couldn't see the proper way to do a disclaimer. I'm glad that they posted it in a review, politely, instead of getting pissy and rude. I'm trying, it's not my fault I couldn't open the browser, I'm on dial-up and it really doesn't like opening pages ...at all. I have to fight just to post. So, I just wanted to say thank you for being patient and nice. I honestly really appreciate it.

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CHAPTER 8

The bright overhead lights turned the insides of Kirihara’s eyelids red. He refused to open them, afraid the pounding in his skull would force his eyeballs out of his head. He didn’t know where he was or how he got there, and he didn’t really care either way. He could hear people moving around near him, the sound echoed in his head like an entire elephant herd waltzing around his bed. A migraine at it’s finest. The tight warm grip on his hand did catch his attention though. He cautiously opened one eyelid, the light sparked his headache but his eyes remained in his head.

“Ah! Akaya!” Kamio straightened from where he rested against the side of the bed.

Kirihara winced and closed his eyes, “please keep your voice down.”

Kamio’s hands flew to his mouth as he whispered an apology.

“Where am I?”

“Clinic. Do you remember anything?” Kamio thankfully kept his voice down.

Kirihara licked his lips, his mouth was dry and his throat scratched when he talked. “Not really. I think Echizen was with me, and I think I heard Momoshiro at one point, but I’m really not sure beyond that.” His own memories burned behind his eyes, but he wasn’t about to start airing his skeletons. He couldn’t really tell one image from another anyway, so if he really wanted to tell someone, he wasn't sure he could. The only thing he did remember clearly was her face.

Kamio nodded, “Momo and Echizen brought you to Shinji. You were lucky. Shinji was just in time to counter the curse, took all his energy to do it too. After he figured you were well enough to move we brought you two here.”

Kirihara opened his eyes enough to see the blurry edges of the red-head, “two?”

Kamio nodded in the direction of the opposite side of the room where another Hunter lay in a bed. The Hunter was sickly pale; his short brown hair was a disarrayed mess on his head. The Hunters grey eyes stared out the glass window beside him, the light catching the large scar on his forehead. Kirihara had seen him around before, but for the life of him couldn’t remember his name.

He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, fingers catching in tangled black curls. His skin felt clammy and oily from dried sweat, he must have been running an extremely high fever at one point. His body felt weary, exhausted, confirming that he had been trying to fight something off.

Kamio stood, letting Kirihara’s hand drop back to the bed, “I have to tell the others you’re awake.” He smiled weakly before slipping out of the room.

The other Hunter turned his head to watch Kamio leave, eyes landing on Kirihara once the room was empty. “Curse?” He asked.

Kirihara nodded, “that seems to be the new trend.”

“I miss the old days where your enemies just attacked up front,” he tapped the scar on his forehead, “at least then you could defend yourself.” His smiled was slightly crooked, but lit up his face none-the-less.

“No kidding,” Kirihara chuckled bitterly, “you got a name?”

The other Hunter hesitated for a moment, “Fuji Yuuta.”

Fuji? Not that Fuji!? Kirihara realized his shock had shown on his face because the other Hunter frowned, turning his head away.

Ah shit, “Fuji-ku-“

“Yuuta, call me Yuuta.”

“Ah …Yuuta-kun, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he could blame his friendliness on the recovery.

Yuuta shook his head, “you didn’t. By your expression I guess you’ve met my brother?”

Brother? Kirihara let the shock show on his face this time; his mind just couldn’t seem to add that one up. Fuji felt way too old to be a fledgling, and Yuuta couldn’t have been any older than himself.

Yuuta smiled, grey eyes sparkling, “I know, but he is.”

“What? I didn’t say anything …”

Yuuta blushed lightly, “yeah, sorry about that, I come from a long line of psychics …I’m a telepath.”

Great, another one.

Yuuta shrugged, “it’s not the same a vampiric telepathy. They can tell exactly what you’re thinking …I get kind of …impressions? It’s like having a highly specialized empathy. I can tell how they feel when they are thinking something and I get random thoughts to go along with whatever they’re feeling. So you don’t really have to worry about me hearing really personal thoughts. My brother has very strong empathy, that’s why he started as a powerful vampire. Give an Empath vampiric blood and it only increases what he naturally has. But …” Yuuta ducked his head, an internal struggle evident on his face. “I was 13, he was 14. They took him and turned him …and then passed him around.”

“Jesus!” Kirihara actually felt bad for Fuji. A sudden thought occurred to him, if he relived the vampire attack on his mother while he was cursed, what did Yuuta relive? Was he there when they turned his brother? Did he have to sit through watching his brother’s body die again?

Yuuta’s eyebrows twitched, his eyes saying it was something he hadn’t wanted to see. He shook his head slightly, a quick jerk of neck muscles. Grey eyes stared at the white hospital blanket bundled in his lap. “My brother was smart; he managed to turn what they did to him to his advantage. He fed from enough Ancients that he quickly increased his own power.”

Passed around like a common whore, no one deserved that. “Is that why you became a Hunter?”

Yuuta nodded, “I couldn’t forgive them. Most of the vampires that ...did that to my brother were dealt with by Sanada-san and Yukimura-san, but in the end …I couldn’t just to back to my normal life, not with everything I knew. You know?”

Kirihara smiled softly, a slight upturn of one corner of his mouth. Oh yeah, he knew, what was seen could not be unseen. No one could lead a normal life after that much blood, that much killing. How could you pretend there weren’t monsters around every corner when you knew that there were?

“Damn, what the hell is with this cursing shit, by the way? It’s like a bad acid trip?” Yuuta laughed, the humor never reaching his eyes. He rubbed the palms of his hands over his eyes, “I have a huge frigging headache.”

Kirihara let him change the subject, “I know! Last I checked curses needed a part of the person they’re trying to curse …blood and hair or some shit? Or maybe that’s just voodoo …but …OH SHIT!” He held up his hand, and suddenly everything fell into place.

Yuuta jumped, “don’t yell like that! You’re going to give me a heart attack!” He clutched his chest.

“No, no, Yuuta, I think I know how they did it!”

Yuuta tilted his head as if to say ‘go on’.

“Some little bugger bumped into me, he could have easily grabbed some hairs off my sweater. When I got home I noticed this scratch on my hand, it was deep enough to draw blood!”

Yuuta’s eyes widened and then narrowed. He rolled up his sleeve to show a long scratch across his forearm. “Some kid ran into me, I had just gotten my hair cut so there was probably loose stuff on my shirt too.”

More pieces started falling into place.

“What did he look like?” Yuuta shifted on the bed so he could get a better look at Kirihara, eyes wide.

“Ever seen my partner, Echizen Ryoma?”

“Yeah?”

“Like him, only skinnier and his hair was longer.”

“Son of a bitch, that sounds like the kid that ran into me! Perky little Goth thing?”

Kirihara nodded energetically, turning to face Yuuta. “This wasn’t random-“

“Am I interrupting some sort of male bonding? I came come back?”

Kirihara and Yuuta jumped, nearly flinging themselves off their respective beds. Kirihara was suddenly glad he didn’t have his weapon when he realized his hand had gone to his back out of reflex. He was getting jumpy. Guess with everything that had happened, that was to be expected.

Fuji leaned against the door frame, arms crossed loosely over his stomach. He smiled sweetly and pushed away from the door, gliding across the room to Yuuta’s bed.

“Yuuta~” Fuji crawled onto the bed, hands on either side of his younger brother’s knees.

“Syuusuke,” Yuuta’s expression settled into a vacant mask.

“Is that any way to treat your big brother?” Fuji crawled further up the bed until he was able to straddle Yuuta’s lap. He ran his hands across Yuuta’s broad chest, licking his lips.

Kirihara felt his ears burn as he blushed, not even the little brother was safe. If it wasn’t for the IV in his hand he would have run from the room screaming rape.

“Aniki,” Yuuta’s tone was warning.

“I just came to check on you, I heard you were awake. You know I still worry about you.” He trailed his hands over Yuuta’s shoulders, untying the drawstring behind his neck to let the gown gape around his collar. Yuuta didn’t even flinch, just held his brothers gaze evenly. Fuji leaned in close to Yuuta’s neck, the Hunter tensed finally. “Still afraid of me?”

Yuuta turned his head, “get off of me Aniki.”

Fuji sighed, trailing his hands down Yuuta’s bare chest. “You’re no fun Yuuta. I’m going to have to go play with Kirihara-kun instead.”

Yuuta’s eyes flicked to Kirihara, who paled. He’d dealt with Fuji once before, and once was more than enough.

“I’m fine Aniki, really, no need to worry about me. Shinji-san was able to save me, I’m just really tired and not in the mood. If you’re bored go play with Tezuka-san.”

Kirihara failed brilliantly at trying to keep the shock out of his face, he would have given his right arm for Tezuka to be in the room when Yuuta said that.

Fuji grinned, crossing his arms again, “you’re being mean.”

Yuuta rolled his eyes, raising his arms to tie the gown closed again. Fuji pouted, pulling at the collar so Yuuta couldn’t tie it tight.

“How’s Yumiko-nee-san?”

The question caught Yuuta off guard enough that he stopped trying to wrestle his clothing out of Fuji’s hands. “She’s doing better. The doctors say her new medication should help stop the mood swings.”

Fuji smiled, a true smile that made him look both innocent and young. “That’s good.”

“She keeps asking about you. She says you never go and see her.”

Fuji chuckled, shaking his head enough to toss his hair in front of his eyes, “she never forgets does she?”

“The doctors say it’s good that she remembers you, but it might be easier for her to forget everything. I haven’t been allowed in to see her in a little while; she gets in one of her moods where she thinks I’m still thirteen and throws a fit when she sees me. She screams and throws things and says I’m not her brother, I’m an imposter.”

Kirihara looked down at the IV, maybe he could just walk out of the room with the entire machine? He felt rude over-hearing the conversation in the next bed, but there was nothing he could do to get away from it. Their sister was in a mental hospital. He felt guilt and pity in his stomach like a rock, with the amount of baggage Yuuta was carrying around it was no wonder he didn’t get along with the other Hunters.

Yuuta glanced at him, as did Fuji. “Yumiko-nee-san has the strongest psychic powers out of all of us …”

It took Kirihara a second to realize Yuuta was talking to him, “I’m sorry …”

Yuuta smiled softly, “a little hard not to over hear when you’re only a bed away. Her mind …went, when we watched …” he glanced at Fuji. The vampire had found something outside of the window far more interesting, “…when we watched the vampires rape and turn Syuusuke. Our parents had died a year before that, so Yumiko-nee-san was our primary caregiver. She threw some pretty crazy magic that day, saved me …but Syuusuke was already gone.”

Fuji curled up against his brother’s chest, face buried in the crook of his neck. He closed his eyes and yawned.

“I’m sorry,” he really couldn’t come up with something better to say, and he hoped Yuuta was telepath enough to pick it up.

He did, “don’t be …it was my choice to tell you. You have enough horrors in your life, I shouldn’t have shared mine, it should be me apologizing.”

Kirihara waved his hands frantically in front of him, “no really, I don’t mind.” Yuuta had needed someone to confide in; he just ended up being there at that time. They both had something in common now, both watched loved ones die, both had to relive it.

Fuji straightened up on the bed suddenly, kissing Yuuta quickly before exiting the room. He was a blur when he left the bed side, the only way they knew he even left was when the door slid closed. Kamio caught the door before it closed all the way, opening it and looking around it curiously. Ryoma stepped around him, also looking where Kamio was facing.

“What was that?” Kamio mumbled to himself.

“How do you feel?” Ryoma stood at the end of Kirihara’s bed, hands in his pockets.

“Is it possible to be burned alive, drowned, and hit by a bus all at the same time?”

Yuuta laughed; a short burst of startled sound. His hands flew to his mouth as he started snickering. “That’s about it …”

“So far you two are the only ones cursed. Tezuka doesn’t think it has anything to do with what happened in the other district …but he’s not sure.” Kamio explained, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Random witch attacks on Hunters, sounds like too much of a coincidence to me,” Kirihara frowned - he was starting to sound too much like Momo.

Kamio shrugged, “Shinji’s trying to figure it out. We’ll know more then. Inui-sensei said that after he and Shinji check you two out you can go.”

Kirihara and Yuuta paled at the mention of Inui’s name.

After being forced a glass of Inui juice each, they were allowed to leave. Fuji trotted happily behind a still gagging Yuuta. He waved weakly to Kirihara before he vanished into an elevator. Both Hunters had been given a few days off to recover, just to make sure there were no lasting effects to the curse. Shinji had made a small pouch for each containing things that would help them protect themselves against another attack. He started to explain what was in each, but Kirihara tuned him out – he was getting far too good at that. The pouches wouldn’t deter the curse, but it would lessen the effects. Kirihara shoved the charm pouch into his pocket and threw the amulet around his neck, the chain was long enough to tuck down his shirt. He wasn’t a big fan of magic, but after what happened, he was willing to put a little faith into rocks and plants.

By the middle of his second day off Kirihara was pacing his apartment, he wasn’t used to having nothing to do. He had cleaned, watched television, and cleaned again. When the phone rang he vaulted over the back of the couch to get it. Finally! He didn’t care if it was work or a telemarketer; he was bored enough that he’d talk to anyone.

“Hello?” He hung over the couch cushions, feet on the back of the couch and hand on the ground to keep his forehead from smacking the coffee table.

“Yo, Akaya, you busy?”

A smile spread across is face – a true smile, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. “Bunta-san! No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Why do you sound out of breath?”

Kirihara rolled so he was lying on his back with his feet extended into the air, “jumped over the couch and almost whacked my head on the table.”

“Dude, you need a hobby. Look, I’m by your place, come meet me. I’m at the coffee shop.”

Kirihara pushed himself off of the couch in a backwards summersault, pivoting on his foot so he was out of the way of the coffee table, “yeah! I’ll be right there!”

Marui Bunta was the only thing Kirihara had resembling a normal life. He was a friend from High School that knew nothing of Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches. He thought Kirihara worked a normal factory job, which was just an easy way to explain away the random injuries he always seemed to get. He didn’t look like a typical factory worker upon first glance, but one look at his upper torso said that he would have no problem with hard labor. You don’t get those kinds of muscles bagging groceries.

He pulled on a loose blue sweater, comfortable and able to hide his gun. He didn’t like carrying a weapon when out to meet friends, but that close to sundown he wasn’t taking chances. The coffee shop he was meeting Marui at was about a block away from his apartment building. It was at the far corner of a little strip mall; a small brown brick building with large windows facing both streets on the corner.

Kirihara spotted Marui’s familiar bright red hair at the counter. The girl behind the counter blushed and giggled.

“Come on Sakuno-chan~”

The girl blushed deeper, pushing her braids over her shoulder out of nervous habit.

“Oi, leave the poor girl alone,” Kirihara elbowed Marui in the side.

Marui laughed, taking the two cups another girl offered him.

“You ordered for me?”

“You’ve ordered the same thing since you were fourteen, it’s not that hard.”

Kirihara took the cup, sticking his tongue out - hey, no one ever said he was mature. The two found an empty table at the back of the shop. Kirihara took the chair closest to the wall so he could watch the entire shop and still have a good view of the windows. Safety was not paranoia, really.

“How’s college?” He asked over the edge of his cup.

Marui grinned around his mouthful of cake, holding up a finger. Kirihara signed dramatically and checked his watch.

Marui swallowed, “you’re a brat,” he cleared his throat, “college? Enh, same old. Teachers have no sense of humor and I have assignments out my ass.” He shrugged.

Kirihara laughed. Straight out of high School he started hunting. Nothing as advanced or legal as now, but it was the only thing he really wanted to do. For a while he wanted to go to college, but after flipping through the course booklets, he knew where his true ambitions lie. He wasn’t really good at anything, and mediocre at everything. He had gotten a job during the day to afford his apartment, and started hunting at night. It was Kamio who found him and brought him to the Organization. He had managed to slip into a bar with a fake ID one night, and that was when he was attacked for he first time – instead of the other way around. Two vampires had cornered him, real live vampires, not the staggering mindless re-animated he had been chasing. Kamio had noticed them stalking him to the bathroom, but by the time he got there, they were already down for the count. Kamio had introduced him to Ryuzaki-san a week later.

“What about you?” Marui scraped up the remaining icing with his fork, a look of utter concentration on his face.

Kirihara shrugged, he hated lying to his friend, but he couldn’t exactly tell him what he really did. Same old, killed zombies, got thrown around by a couple vampires, cursed by a witch of some kind … “work is work, it pays the bills.” He was a shitty liar, so keeping it as vague as possible limited his chances of screwing up.

Marui leaned across the table, “anybody you can introduce me to?”

“Bunta-san!” Kirihara laughed in shock.

Marui grinned, “come on Akaya, there’s gotta be some nice single guys where you work!”

He managed to resist the urge to say ‘you have no idea’, a Hunter was the last person he wanted to pair his best friend up with. “What about the chick at the cash?”

Marui shrugged, “I’m tired of girls, I get enough of them at school.”

“That was almost TMI …”

Marui’s grin turned wicked, “you have no idea~”

Kirihara rolled his eyes, “yeah right.” If there was one thing Marui wasn’t, it was a whore.

“I tried,” Marui shrugged, “I have dated a lot of girls though, but they’re more …annoying than anything else. Most border-line extremely dumb, and the smart ones want nothing to do with me.” Marui sighed dramatically.

Kirihara laughed, tilting his head as Marui started into detailed stories of his life at College. It reminded Kirihara of the life he could have had – a life of ignorant bliss. He could have had a life with nothing more frightening than the occasional mugger; nothing with fangs waiting in the shadows to jump out at you.

The sun started to set before Kirihara realized it. He had allowed the time to slip past him. His phone vibrated in his back pocket, but he ignored it – that’s what voicemail was for. He wanted to hang on to some resemblance of normal life for just a little while longer. He didn’t get too many opportunities to see Marui, so he wanted to stay for as long as he was able to.

When his phone vibrated again almost immediately he sighed, “one sec, phone’s ringing.” He fished it out and flipped it open, Tezuka’s extension, he should have known. “Kirihara here.”

“Ah, Kirihara-san, Tezuka-san would like to meet with you as soon as possible tonight.”

Kirihara sighed, he hated life sometimes, “yeah, sure, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Work?” Marui frowned.

Kirihara nodded, getting up to dispose of his trash.

“What would a factory manager be calling for at this time of night?”

Good point, “Boss needs to see me, you know what these people are like.” Sadly, it wasn’t a lie.

Marui chuckled and rolled his eyes, “no kidding.” Marui rested his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. “We really need to do this more.”

Kirihara nodded, life wasn’t always so forgiving, but he did need to hang on to the few friends he did have. He waited at the bus stop with Marui before jogging back to his house. He didn’t like leaving his friend alone at night, but when Tezuka beckons.

The building was buzzing with Hunters. Work had started. He noticed Yuuta across the hall and waved, the brunet waved back. Another Hunter squeezed into the elevator with Kirihara, but got off on the floor before his own. The hallway to Tezuka’s office was empty but voices echoed around him from the Hunters further down the floor. He paused outside of the office, staring at the gold plaque. Tezuka was expecting him, so he wasn’t interrupting, but he still felt nervous. It was strange, even for him. He rapped quickly on the door.

“Come in.”

Kirihara pushed open the door slowly, and that was when it hit him full force. He wasn’t nervous because he was meeting with Tezuka, he was nervous because his body was warning him of something. Vampire.

Seated in one of the chairs in front of Tezuka’s desk was the Master of the City. His broad shoulders rested above the back of the chair, meaning he was slouching slightly. He glanced back over his shoulder, brown eyes scanning Kirihara from head to foot.

“Sanada-san?” Once the words were out of his mouth Kirihara regretted it. He clamped his hands over his mouth, what if Tezuka didn’t know this was the Master of the city? What if Sanada-san had told him he was coming with a message from Sanada? What if he told him he was just some random Vampire coming in to talk?

Sanada rolled his eyes, “please tell me all your Hunters aren’t like him?”

Tezuka’s lips twitched in a quick smirk, “no, he’s a …special case.”

Sanada stood from the chair, movements too graceful and boneless to be called human. He glanced at Kirihara before turning back to Tezuka, “I have repaid my debt to you by saving two of your own. We are even now.”

Tezuka nodded, hands folded on his desk.

Oh. Realization dawned on Kirihara – Sanada was referring to Kamio and himself. Guess he was lucky the Master of the City owed his boss a favor. He shuddered thinking what would have happened if they hadn’t shown up. Keeping them in the lair and questioning them was probably just to make sure they weren’t hurt worse than they looked, and to keep some sort of face.

When Sanada brushed past Kirihara he let his powers flare. A small gasp escaped his lips when the Vampire’s warmth crashed into him, making his skin tingle. Another flow of power and his breath started coming out in short gasps. He grabbed the door frame when his knees threatened to buckle. Sanada smirked down at him, a mischievous light in his eyes.

Kirihara found his body turning of its own accord to follow Sanada, his eyes locked to the Vampire’s back. He watched the muscles across his shoulders flex with the slight movements of his arms, the sway of his hips when he shifted balance while walking. His grip on the doorframe was the only thing that kept him from following the Master.

Tezuka cleared his throat loudly. Kirihara jumped, his mind coming back to himself. He had just gotten caught checking out the Master of the City by his boss, and had no explanation as to why he had done it. He smiled, a wide grin flashing teeth, and shrugged.

Tezuka sighed, there was only one way to deal with Kirihara …and he hadn’t figured it out yet.

Kirihara slid into the chair that Sanada had recently vacated. It was still warm, and his scent clung to the material lightly. He felt a blush creeping up his neck as he sat in the pocket of Sanada’s scent and body heat. Sanada had purposely flung his power at him to make him flustered, Kirihara had no idea why …and was kind of pissed off about that.

Tezuka cleared his throat again, “I’ll speak to Sanada about that,” his lips twitched again.

Stop mentally molesting my Hunters – Kirihara would have paid money to be a fly on the wall for THAT conversation.

“I asked you here to get your story of what happened. I have already spoken to Yuuta-kun, so I would just like to hear what you have to say. I’m sorry for the short notice, but I’d like to get everything straight before it happens again.”

Kirihara nodded, he explained what they had talked about in the clinic – the similarities in their attacks, and what exactly happened that day. Explaining went very quickly when you were talking to someone who basically knew everything already. When he finished his retelling Tezuka nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

After a long moment he spoke, “I will speak to Shinji, maybe he can figure something out to tell us where the magic is coming from,” he fell silent again, eyes turning distant.

“Tezuka-san?”

Tezuka shook his head, almost like he was trying to brush away an irritating fly, “magic isn’t something we deal with a lot. I don’t like what’s happening. It’s just too much to be a coincidence,” he ran his fingers through his hair. “The best start is to find the one who the two of you met.”

Kirihara nodded, he wasn’t sure what else to do. It was clear Tezuka was frustrated, and probably under a lot of stress. Hunter attacks all around him, scared vampires …and no one to blame. He stood up to leave and Tezuka didn’t stop him. He closed the door quietly behind him, leaving Tezuka to himself. He felt sorry for Tezuka, but there was really nothing any of them could do. They were experts in killing supernatural beings, not solving mysteries. None of them knew much about magic, which was why Ryuzaki brought in witches and psychics. Experts, something none of the Hunters had to be. Sure, they could do research and find creatures easy enough, but with no paper link and no information either way, they were swinging in the dark …and that only got people killed.

In the elevator he leaned back against the wall, watching the red light scale down through the floors. A distant part of his mind wondered if Sanada was still in the building, he hadn’t been in Tezuka’s office THAT long. He doubted it though.

The door opened into a huge crowd of Hunters pressed nearly shoulder to shoulder. Pushing his way through the crowd Kirihara came to a part in the crowd where he could see what was going on without ducking around shoulders. Sanada stood in the middle of the group, his power prickled through the air like an electrical current, raising hair. It wasn’t the same power he had consciously thrown at Kirihara, this was supernatural reaction – this was what it felt like to be around a very powerful and very pissed off Vampire.

The male standing across from him flipped his dark hair and smiled, flashing fangs. His own power flowed around the circle, it caressed and soothed, fighting against the electricity of Sanada’s anger. The other vampire was almost as tall as Sanada, but much thinner, and looked a few years younger. His violet shirt was opened at the collar, showing the hollow of his throat and the dip of his collar bone. The shirt was loose enough to hide the shape of his upper body, but the leather pants clung like a second skin; showing long, thin, but muscled legs. He chuckled darkly, flipping his hair again. “Sanada, why the hostility?” His power caressed out again, as if he was trying to sooth Sanada’s temper.

Kirihara caught the backlash of power and gasped from the force, he heard a few other Hunters around him gasp as well. A blush crept up his neck to his cheeks; the power reminded him of Fuji’s – sexual and full of dark promises. The Vampire’s entire body seemed to emanate a sexual aura the way Sanada’s did power.

Sanada remained un-phased, “I don’t remember giving you permission to enter my city Atobe.” His voice came out as a growl.

The other Vampire held his hands out, palms up, to show they were empty, “I have come with no army Sanada, I have not challenged your authority. I am here to simply speak with Tezuka.”

So that must be Atobe Keigo then, Master of the city. Kirihara grinned, so the rumors were true, Atobe was flamboyant as fuck. He fought the urge to giggle; watching him stare down Sanada with the smug pretty face was far too entertaining. He wondered if Atobe was always like that, or if today it was just for show?

Atobe stepped closer to Sanada, the short heal of his leather boots clicking on the floor. Sanada’s hands clenched at his side as he stared down at the smaller Vampire. Atobe’s long eyelashes fluttered as he blinked slowly, leaning forward to breathe along Sanada’s neck. Sanada raised one hand, and Atobe backed off.

“I won’t test your hospitality any further, I will speak with Tezuka and then leave.”

Sanada snorted, noticing something past Atobe’s shoulder, “no army, but you come with body guards.”

Atobe shrugged; an elegant rise of shoulders, “I am cautious Sanada, not stupid. Even I am not foolish enough to step into another’s territory without a bit of hired muscle.”

The male to his left tensed; the muscles in his jaw clenching. Apparently he didn’t appreciate being referred to as ‘hired muscle’.

Sanada sniffed the air quickly before letting out a short laugh, “humans? You surprise me Atobe.”

Atobe tilted his head, on anyone else it would have looked submissive, but on Atobe it looked like a challenge, “yes, humans. Hunters to be exact.”

Sanada shook his head, “either way, I expect you out of my city once your business is done. Next time I won’t be so lenient.”

Atobe bowed, sweeping out his arms, eyes still rolled up to watch Sanada. He brushed past the other Vampire, the crowd of Hunters parting before him. The Hunters followed quietly behind Atobe as he made his way to the elevator. The smaller of the two passed close to Kirihara.

“Does he let you sleep at the foot of his bed like a good little pet?” Kirihara crossed his arms across his chest, watching the Hunter out of the corner of his eye.

“What did you say?”

“You work for a Vampire …I’ve seen you around here before, so I know you are one of us. What made you decide to work for him? Your own race not good enough?” Kirihara’s lip curled up in a sneer. He was most definitely a shit disturber, but something about the other Hunter just pissed him off. Was it the fact that the Hunter worked for a vampire? Probably. Was it because it felt like betrayal to his own race? Most likely. Was it just because he could? Definitely.

The Hunter froze, close enough to Kirihara to touch, “don’t talk about shit you couldn’t possibly understand.” His voice was quiet with a touch of anger.

Kirihara snorted, “what’s not to understand?” It was like poking an angry lion with a stick, stupid and would probably get you killed, but it made him feel better. He turned to face the Hunter who’s back was still to him. “You left the Organization where we defend the human race, to work for someone who doesn’t give a shit about who we are.”

His shoulders stiffened but he continued to walk away.

Kirihara’s grin widened, “the sex must be damn good if you’re willing to-“

The other Hunter had used his foot as a pivot when he stepped away, throwing his entire body into his fist. Kirihara found himself crashing to the ground, blood filling his mouth. He scrambled to get his feet underneath him, drawing his gun just incase he was attacked again. Sure, he deserved it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to defend himself. The Hunters partner had grabbed him around the chest, other hand around the smaller male’s wrist as he tried to throw another punch. The second Hunter was more than a head taller and held easily onto his partner until he calmed down.

Atobe stepped between the two, hands extended, “that is quite enough from both of you, Shishido, Kirihara.”

Kirihara felt a cold hand under his arm, lifting him to his feet. He glanced up at Sanada, too pissed off to blush. “Pick on someone your own size next time.” Sanada sighed, expression mirroring Tezuka’s typical ‘dealing-with-Akaya’ one.

“What’s going on here?”

The entire crowd froze. Kirihara gulped and stepped closer to Sanada, using the Vampires larger body to shield him from view.

“My apologies Tezuka, my Hunter responded to instigation from one of yours,” Atobe’s voice was anything but remorseful.

Tezuka stepped up to Atobe, eyes narrowing. He met the Vampires gaze evenly, being the same height made it easier. “I do believe I distinctly asked you to wait until Sanada had left. I do not like having two Masters in my building.”

Atobe’s eyebrows twitched, “I do not like waiting Tezuka, it was mere coincidence us meeting here.”

Sanada snorted, rolling his eyes. Sure it was.

Tezuka stepped closer to Atobe, close enough that his jacket brushed against Atobe’s shirt. “You will never pick a fight with another Vampire in my building Atobe, are we clear? Do not invade my home, and I won’t invade yours.” The threat hung in the air between the two as they stared each other down. “I want no ill will between us Atobe, but this is my home. I have lives in here that I have sworn to protect; I won’t let some little pissing contest endanger that.”

Atobe nodded, “always a way with words Tezuka.”

Tezuka turned to the two Hunters, “Otori-kun, could you take Shishido-kun to the clinic to get that checked?”

Otori nodded, loosening his grip around Shishido’s chest. Shishido flexed his hand; deep gashes marked his knuckles where he had connected with Kirihara’s teeth.

“Hope they’re infected fucker,” Kirihara hissed.

Shishido glanced at his hand, “should I request a rabies shot then, asshole?”

Kirihara opened his mouth to retort, but a swift cuff to the back of the head silenced him. Otori took the chance to drag Shishido away before more blood was spilt. Kirihara rubbed his head where Sanada had hit him, realizing he was lucky Sanada didn’t just take his head right off. He glared at the Master; he was used to being picked on by the other Hunters, but getting picked on by the Master of the city just pissed him off. Sanada glanced down and seemed to notice something; he leaned down until their noses almost touched. Kirihara blushed, breath caught in his throat. He leaned back so he wasn’t cross-eyed trying to watch Sanada.

“Your eyes are red?”

Kirihara blinked, “huh?” He was suddenly distracted by the movement of the Master’s mouth. Sanada didn’t have full lips, they were on the verge of being too thin, but it somehow suited the sharp lines of his face. At that close he could see the tip of Sanada’s tongue dart out to wet the seam of his lips, and the light shine that was left behind.

Sanada’s eyes narrowed and Kirihara blushed brighter. Dragging his eyes away from the Vampires mouth he could see, very faintly, a line of freckles under his eyes. Was he out in the sun a lot when he was alive? Kirihara wasn’t used to seeing vampires with freckles; maybe Sanada’s skin had been too dark in life for the bleaching of death to take away? He could smell Sanada’s personal scent from that close, with a hint of some kind of cologne.

Sanada’s thumb brushed along Kirihara’s bottom lashes, “the whites of your eyes are red.”

“Oh,” Kirihara choked out, “yeah, they do that some times when I get mad.”

Sanada frowned and straightened back up. He quickly glanced to Tezuka who raised his hand slightly, a gesture that would have been missed if one wasn’t watching for it.

“Kirihara.”

He jumped at the sound of his name, almost forgetting that Tezuka was there.

“I suggest you go home for the rest of the day and cool off. Disciplinary action will be taken later.”

Ah, shit. Kirihara pursed his lips in a frustrated huff. He hated getting disciplined. It was never anything bad, usually just boring things that kept him out of everyone’s way. Last time he had played delivery boy, and the time before that he had to baby sit shifter cubs, the time before that …well, the list went on a while.

“Hai.”
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Colour Me Blood Red