Walk forward, into the world
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Rating:
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Chapters:
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Category:
+. to F › Ai no Kusabi
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
20
Views:
5,705
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Ai no Kusabi, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 3
Title: Walk forward, into the world
Author: Ainzfern
Genre: Ai no Kusabi – Post OVA
Code: Iason/Riki
Rating: NC-17
Parts: WIP – 3/?
“Hey… Hey. You coming out of it?”
Groaning softly, Riki struggled against the heavy lethargy that seemed to be blanketing his body. The voice in his ear appeared to be coming from somewhere far away, but as he fought for consciousness, it drew closer, became more clearly defined.
“Hey… Riki. C’mon man, you need to open those pretty eyes for me, okay?”
A hand shook him, not particularly roughly, but not exactly gentle, either. He grunted again, feeling his body jolt a little on the yielding surface upon which he lay. He frowned, even in his half-waking state, he knew that voice. It was familiar to him.
And it meant that, somehow, he was safe.
Well… safe enough, anyway.
“Katze..?” His soft question was delivered in a voice that sounded rusty and dry from disuse. He swallowed hard, opening his eyes a crack and wincing as the dim light from a lamp by the bed he was on stabbed at them. “Katze?”
The red-headed black marketer, his old boss, grinned almost rakishly at him. “The one and only, kid. Welcome back to the land of the living.” He leaned out of Riki’s line of sight for a moment, returning with a glass of water. Slipping his free hand under the back of Riki’s neck, he lifted him slightly so that the young man could drink.
Accepting the water gratefully, Riki downed it in one draught, nodding his thanks.
Still supporting him, Katze set the glass down on the bedside table and shoved a couple of cushions behind Riki’s back before releasing him to lay propped up in a semi-sitting position. He moved back slightly then, staring hard at Riki with an indecipherable look on his scarred face.
“How do you feel?” Katze asked eventually, breaking the silence.
Riki wet his lips and cleared his throat a couple of times. “I... feel okay, I guess.” He frowned, looking around the rather non-descript little bedroom. “I’m not in Midas, am I?”
“No.” Katze smiled again. “You’re in one of my safe-houses just outside the city’s edge.”
“I’m in Ceres?” Riki felt slightly alarmed by the prospect. Back in the slums. Back where, no doubt, Guy would still be still alive and waiting.
If Katze had, God forbid, told him…
“Almost.” Katze’s grin widened at Riki’s confused expression. “We’re in the no-man’s land between Midas and the slums. Basically, the market-place. Our own sleazy little trade centre where the citizens and the scum all pretend that they don’t meet to do business.” His smile faded, his expression growing somber. “No one knows you’re here, Riki. No-one but me and Raoul Am.”
Riki was appalled to actually feel a gasp of shock leaving his chest. “Raoul Am? That fuckin’ Blondie? What in the hell is he doing involved with- -“
“How much do you remember?” Katze cut him off, his tone low and intense.
“I, uhm…” Riki blinked, thrown by the suddenness of the question. He looked down at his feet for a moment, struggling with it. “I remember Dana Bahn. I remember that you found me after I called you, and…” he trailed off, his eyes widening as something suddenly occurred to him. Feeling his heart rate start to increase, he swallowed hard and slowly slid one hand down his body, easing it between his legs. He heard his own breath rasping in shocked short busts through the silence of the room when his own fingers closed over the warm and healthy flesh at the apex of his thighs.
Flesh that, by all rights, simply should not have been there anymore.
“How..?” He stared at Katze’s once more inscrutable face. “Guy cut me,” he whispered, his voice shaking, his entire body trembling with stunned relief. “How is this possible?”
“You were regenerated,” Katze answered quietly, “It was a hell of a long-shot but, Raoul Am called in his medical heavies and they put you into one of the amniotic tanks that they were using to breed the latest pets.” He shrugged, a strange flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Ironic it may have been, but it worked.”
“How long..?”
“Three months.”
“Holy shit,” Riki murmured, shaking his head as his dazed mind attempted to process the passing of so much time. “But I remember the explosions. I went back… smoked the black moon you gave me. How the hell did I live through that?”
“Well,” Katze leaned back comfortably, propped on one hand. “A conveniently fallen piece of wall and Iason’s own bulk shielded you from the worst of the final blasts. There wasn’t much life left in you when Raoul Am’s rescue team pulled you out, but there was enough.”
“I still don’t get it, Katze,” Riki frowned, his head aching, his weariness returning rapidly. “Why the hell would a Blondie, an Elite who fuckin’ hated the very idea of me, want to help me?”
Katze sighed, his gaze dropping for a moment. “It was a clear instruction in Iason Mink’s last will and testament,” his voice was low and dulled with echoes of sorrow, “In the event of his death, you were to be set free with no conditions, and in perfect health. And Raoul Am obviously still respected his friend enough to follow it through.”
Feeling the blood drain from his face, Riki stared at him. He swallowed hard, the click of his throat seeming loud in the silent room. “His… death?” he whispered.
“Yes, Riki,” Meeting his eyes once more, Katze nodded. “Iason is dead. There was nothing anyone could do.”
The breath left Riki’s lungs in sharp and sudden rush. He heard a low moan, a dreadful gut-punched sound, and was strangely unsurprised to realize that it had come from his own throat. He felt his face draw into a deep grimace as he fought to control his reactions, looking around the room almost desperately, as if searching for some manner of inspiration or, perhaps, just to escape the sudden searing burst of pain.
And it was pain he was feeling.
His throat hurt, his heart hurt.
God, right now, everything hurt…
“For what it’s worth,” he heard Katze saying through the roaring in his head, “I’m sorry.”
Breathing deeply, Riki composed himself. His mouth twisted bitterly and he looked sharply up at Katze’s face, fully preparing to tell him exactly what the ex-Furniture could do with his apology, but the look on that pale face stilled his tongue.
Katze was sorry. Riki could see it clearly, right there in that shattered and shuttered expression.
Somehow, the fact that there was someone in the world who could relate to him right now made him feel a little better.
Not much, but a little.
Pushing back his emotions with effort, Riki nodded at him. “Okay,” he rubbed one hand roughly over his face, “So, what happens now? I’m a free agent again, am I right?”
Silently Katze nodded.
“So..?” Shrugging, Riki lifted his dark brows questioningly, “Am I still working for you?”
With a slight smile breaking through Katze’s grief touched mask, he nodded again. “If you want to be, yes.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m going to get a lot of other offers.” Riki lifted one shoulder slightly. “Besides, you know what I was, and you still don’t give me too much shit so, yeah, I’d like to stay working for you.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Good.” Sighing deeply, Riki settled back against the cushions, his eyes dipping shut for a moment. “So, what kind of deal can you do me, Katze? Messenger boy or factory worker?”
“Neither.” Katze’s reply was laced with amusement.
Riki’s eyes snapped open again “No?”
“No.” Katze rose to his feet, picking up the empty glass and holding it loosely with one hand. “You’re far too weak at the moment for messenger duties. You haven’t fully recovered yet.”
“No shit.”
Katze smiled fleetingly. “And, as for the factory, well… I believe I can make better use of your talents a little closer to home.”
Frowning, Riki stared up at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“How are you at code-cracking, Riki?” Katze asked him in lieu of an answer.
Blinking, straining to keep up with the man in his currently wrung out state, Riki shook his head. “God, I don’t know… pretty good, I suppose.”
Katze grin became positively smug. “How would you like to become exceptionally good?”
Chuckling in sudden amazement, Riki grinned back at him. “Seriously? You’re gonna train me?”
“Yes.” Katze’s look became very direct. “Well?”
Riki considered it only for a moment. “Okay. Deal. When do you want to start?”
“Rest for another couple of days.” Katze moved toward the open bedroom door, pulling his ever-present pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. “If I think you’re up to it, then we’ll begin.”
With that, he nodded by way of farewell and left without further word.
In the stillness left in his wake, Riki sighed again, an almost shattered sound, closed his eyes and drifted quickly back to sleep, hoping desperately not to dream.
TBC
Author: Ainzfern
Genre: Ai no Kusabi – Post OVA
Code: Iason/Riki
Rating: NC-17
Parts: WIP – 3/?
“Hey… Hey. You coming out of it?”
Groaning softly, Riki struggled against the heavy lethargy that seemed to be blanketing his body. The voice in his ear appeared to be coming from somewhere far away, but as he fought for consciousness, it drew closer, became more clearly defined.
“Hey… Riki. C’mon man, you need to open those pretty eyes for me, okay?”
A hand shook him, not particularly roughly, but not exactly gentle, either. He grunted again, feeling his body jolt a little on the yielding surface upon which he lay. He frowned, even in his half-waking state, he knew that voice. It was familiar to him.
And it meant that, somehow, he was safe.
Well… safe enough, anyway.
“Katze..?” His soft question was delivered in a voice that sounded rusty and dry from disuse. He swallowed hard, opening his eyes a crack and wincing as the dim light from a lamp by the bed he was on stabbed at them. “Katze?”
The red-headed black marketer, his old boss, grinned almost rakishly at him. “The one and only, kid. Welcome back to the land of the living.” He leaned out of Riki’s line of sight for a moment, returning with a glass of water. Slipping his free hand under the back of Riki’s neck, he lifted him slightly so that the young man could drink.
Accepting the water gratefully, Riki downed it in one draught, nodding his thanks.
Still supporting him, Katze set the glass down on the bedside table and shoved a couple of cushions behind Riki’s back before releasing him to lay propped up in a semi-sitting position. He moved back slightly then, staring hard at Riki with an indecipherable look on his scarred face.
“How do you feel?” Katze asked eventually, breaking the silence.
Riki wet his lips and cleared his throat a couple of times. “I... feel okay, I guess.” He frowned, looking around the rather non-descript little bedroom. “I’m not in Midas, am I?”
“No.” Katze smiled again. “You’re in one of my safe-houses just outside the city’s edge.”
“I’m in Ceres?” Riki felt slightly alarmed by the prospect. Back in the slums. Back where, no doubt, Guy would still be still alive and waiting.
If Katze had, God forbid, told him…
“Almost.” Katze’s grin widened at Riki’s confused expression. “We’re in the no-man’s land between Midas and the slums. Basically, the market-place. Our own sleazy little trade centre where the citizens and the scum all pretend that they don’t meet to do business.” His smile faded, his expression growing somber. “No one knows you’re here, Riki. No-one but me and Raoul Am.”
Riki was appalled to actually feel a gasp of shock leaving his chest. “Raoul Am? That fuckin’ Blondie? What in the hell is he doing involved with- -“
“How much do you remember?” Katze cut him off, his tone low and intense.
“I, uhm…” Riki blinked, thrown by the suddenness of the question. He looked down at his feet for a moment, struggling with it. “I remember Dana Bahn. I remember that you found me after I called you, and…” he trailed off, his eyes widening as something suddenly occurred to him. Feeling his heart rate start to increase, he swallowed hard and slowly slid one hand down his body, easing it between his legs. He heard his own breath rasping in shocked short busts through the silence of the room when his own fingers closed over the warm and healthy flesh at the apex of his thighs.
Flesh that, by all rights, simply should not have been there anymore.
“How..?” He stared at Katze’s once more inscrutable face. “Guy cut me,” he whispered, his voice shaking, his entire body trembling with stunned relief. “How is this possible?”
“You were regenerated,” Katze answered quietly, “It was a hell of a long-shot but, Raoul Am called in his medical heavies and they put you into one of the amniotic tanks that they were using to breed the latest pets.” He shrugged, a strange flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Ironic it may have been, but it worked.”
“How long..?”
“Three months.”
“Holy shit,” Riki murmured, shaking his head as his dazed mind attempted to process the passing of so much time. “But I remember the explosions. I went back… smoked the black moon you gave me. How the hell did I live through that?”
“Well,” Katze leaned back comfortably, propped on one hand. “A conveniently fallen piece of wall and Iason’s own bulk shielded you from the worst of the final blasts. There wasn’t much life left in you when Raoul Am’s rescue team pulled you out, but there was enough.”
“I still don’t get it, Katze,” Riki frowned, his head aching, his weariness returning rapidly. “Why the hell would a Blondie, an Elite who fuckin’ hated the very idea of me, want to help me?”
Katze sighed, his gaze dropping for a moment. “It was a clear instruction in Iason Mink’s last will and testament,” his voice was low and dulled with echoes of sorrow, “In the event of his death, you were to be set free with no conditions, and in perfect health. And Raoul Am obviously still respected his friend enough to follow it through.”
Feeling the blood drain from his face, Riki stared at him. He swallowed hard, the click of his throat seeming loud in the silent room. “His… death?” he whispered.
“Yes, Riki,” Meeting his eyes once more, Katze nodded. “Iason is dead. There was nothing anyone could do.”
The breath left Riki’s lungs in sharp and sudden rush. He heard a low moan, a dreadful gut-punched sound, and was strangely unsurprised to realize that it had come from his own throat. He felt his face draw into a deep grimace as he fought to control his reactions, looking around the room almost desperately, as if searching for some manner of inspiration or, perhaps, just to escape the sudden searing burst of pain.
And it was pain he was feeling.
His throat hurt, his heart hurt.
God, right now, everything hurt…
“For what it’s worth,” he heard Katze saying through the roaring in his head, “I’m sorry.”
Breathing deeply, Riki composed himself. His mouth twisted bitterly and he looked sharply up at Katze’s face, fully preparing to tell him exactly what the ex-Furniture could do with his apology, but the look on that pale face stilled his tongue.
Katze was sorry. Riki could see it clearly, right there in that shattered and shuttered expression.
Somehow, the fact that there was someone in the world who could relate to him right now made him feel a little better.
Not much, but a little.
Pushing back his emotions with effort, Riki nodded at him. “Okay,” he rubbed one hand roughly over his face, “So, what happens now? I’m a free agent again, am I right?”
Silently Katze nodded.
“So..?” Shrugging, Riki lifted his dark brows questioningly, “Am I still working for you?”
With a slight smile breaking through Katze’s grief touched mask, he nodded again. “If you want to be, yes.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m going to get a lot of other offers.” Riki lifted one shoulder slightly. “Besides, you know what I was, and you still don’t give me too much shit so, yeah, I’d like to stay working for you.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Good.” Sighing deeply, Riki settled back against the cushions, his eyes dipping shut for a moment. “So, what kind of deal can you do me, Katze? Messenger boy or factory worker?”
“Neither.” Katze’s reply was laced with amusement.
Riki’s eyes snapped open again “No?”
“No.” Katze rose to his feet, picking up the empty glass and holding it loosely with one hand. “You’re far too weak at the moment for messenger duties. You haven’t fully recovered yet.”
“No shit.”
Katze smiled fleetingly. “And, as for the factory, well… I believe I can make better use of your talents a little closer to home.”
Frowning, Riki stared up at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“How are you at code-cracking, Riki?” Katze asked him in lieu of an answer.
Blinking, straining to keep up with the man in his currently wrung out state, Riki shook his head. “God, I don’t know… pretty good, I suppose.”
Katze grin became positively smug. “How would you like to become exceptionally good?”
Chuckling in sudden amazement, Riki grinned back at him. “Seriously? You’re gonna train me?”
“Yes.” Katze’s look became very direct. “Well?”
Riki considered it only for a moment. “Okay. Deal. When do you want to start?”
“Rest for another couple of days.” Katze moved toward the open bedroom door, pulling his ever-present pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. “If I think you’re up to it, then we’ll begin.”
With that, he nodded by way of farewell and left without further word.
In the stillness left in his wake, Riki sighed again, an almost shattered sound, closed his eyes and drifted quickly back to sleep, hoping desperately not to dream.
TBC