Fandom: Prince
of Tennis
Title: Butterfly
Wings
Author/Artist: MoonlitAffairs
(Kyoka)
Theme(s): #31—Vampire
Characters: Tezuka
Kunimitsu, Fuji Shuusuke (In this universe, Fuji Shun), Atobe
Keigo
Rating: T
Warnings:
Character Death, Girl!Fuji
Disclaimer: I don't
own the characters. They are reserved to Konomi Takeshi. I don't
claim them. I am merely borrowing them.
Author's Notes:
First and foremost, Happy New Year,
everyone, wherever you're celebrating it. Again, this is written
for the livejounal 30 deathfics community.
Pertaining to Fuji's status as a girl... I found that this story worked better themewise when he's a girl. Fuji's engaged to Atobe in this one, something that I didn't originally plan. I know a lot of people don't approve of the gender-bending, but I don't know... I like how this turned out.
As always, please review!
"Death is more universal than life; everyone dies, but not everyone lives."
Butterfly Wings
Her eyes were blue—so rare, considering her Japanese heritage. Tezuka was able to see their beauty from the first day; his eyes and ears were trained. Even when he watched from the shadows, he was able to hear the sound of her heartbeat and trace the blood that ran through her veins. She was a steadfast, intelligent girl who was betrothed to a man named Atobe Keigo. He noticed each minute detail as it passed the surface of his eyes, and he nodded in quiet reverence of flawless, human beauty. It was only a week before that his eyes first met her innocent, womanly face, but the very moment he saw her eyes, he decided that he needed her blood.
The first time he came across the woman was in his nightly stroll across the sprawling meadow just outside a nearby village. He always watched her from afar and he was always out of sight. Mostly, he hid in the trees of the forest. She seemed to stay away from them, no doubt from the stories about monsters all the storytellers passed to the children in the local village.
However, he was still close enough to hear her when she spoke.
When he heard her voice, his ears caught it like music and held it for a second while the sound reverberated in his ears. The night was warm, and even though his skin never felt it, his soul warmed a fraction when he looked at her. She didn't notice him; she was immersed in a calm conversation with her fiancée. The man in question was no doubt lucky. However, he was perceptive enough to see that she didn't really like him, and that he might have a secret lover. It was obvious; they were only together because their parents arranged it. In any other situation, he would have pitied their forsaken bond. When they cooperated, they had a lovely bond.
On this warm, mild night, she wore her summer kimono. The fabric was an obvious sign of her affluence—the fabric was a beautiful lilac that faded into blue, decorated with the delicate curve of chrysanthemum petals. When she wore it, she looked like a butterfly, with the slightest touch of green on her wings that meshed into the sky. And, naturally, the butterfly wanted to be free.
Her name was Fuji Shun.
Now, he watched her with Atobe Keigo.
"Mother and father are planning the wedding for the end of the summer," he told her, as if there was deadly finality in their marriage. Fuji and Atobe were reaching the peak of their youth. The man's features were sharp and handsome—they only began to give way to the lines of age. She held all the innocence of a young girl, yet all the elegance of a wise and beautiful mature woman.
"I see." Her tone reflected it; she knew about his secret lover, and about stolen kisses that would never be given to her with such fever. She didn't want it, either, and he fancied to think that she didn't yet have a lover. Her face was too innocent, after all, touched across by a youthful, warm blush.
Atobe lifted her hand and kissed it, brushing the fabric of her kimono sleeve. The sleeves were long and danced across the wind like a swallowtail butterfly, and for a moment, Tezuka thought that she turned her gaze to his hiding place in knowledge of his whereabouts. However, soon she was distracted. They embraced for a moment, and kissed as good actors did. Without his acute observations, Tezuka would probably fall for their convincing aura. Outwardly, they were everything a couple should be. They were yin and yang. Inside, they couldn't stand the thought of having to be married.
"Our marriage is perfect." He stated. "With a noble suitor as you, our children will be the finest in all of Japan. Our family name will forever be rooted in history."
Perhaps for a moment, her face faltered, but her eyes conveyed everything. She understood their obligations, even when they didn't want to face it. After all, they were children in many aspects. Even with a touch of age and maturity, they still were forbidden to reject their arranged marriage. They knew their match was perfect; but their hearts said otherwise. They were teenagers who hadn't yet learned how to think with their minds.
"I suppose. It will be a lovely wedding, won't it?" He kissed her hand again, let it go and finally they dropped their act. Tezuka was able to see past their fake emotions into their eyes. As a human, he was a fool who would have easily fallen for their act, but over the years he learned. They weren't in love at all. The thought sent drilling insanity into his mind. She could be his, not Atobe's. She didn't know that he existed. Even so, his possession was not the type of love she would seek. Even as an innocent young woman, she wasn't foolish enough to fall so quickly into the arms of a man who killed.
"Should I walk you home?"
"No, I'll go on my own."
"Your mother will think that I'm irresponsible again," he noted with a slight frown. Of course, Fuji's mother would; after all, it probably wasn't wise to be wandering outside at night as it was. Naturally, a mother's instinct was to worry for her child.
"She can think whatever she wants." Her tone was nearly defiant, and it challenged a world full of morals that seemed to be against her. He didn't know whether or not Fuji truly didn't care about her mother's opinion, but she obviously did not care about her impression on Atobe, or her opinion on her sense of personal safety.
"Is this how you will treat our children?" His voice was full of humor, yet at the same time, it was serious. Atobe never spoke in the way that a true lover and fiancée would. He was callous about the idea of having children; more than anything, he viewed it not as a future, but duty entrusted to him by his parents. There wasn't any hope for an ideal family or a bright future filled with warm nights together and good blessings. Simply put, he didn't believe that he was able to learn how to love her. She was too independent and indecisive.
"Good night, Keigo-san."
"Until tomorrow, Shun." He flashed his most charming smile and dragged his land languidly through the air. So many women easily fell for his charm, but she wasn't one of them. However, like any good fiancée would, she played around until she dropped it and left, the sleeves of her kimono playing in the wind amid her strands of light, beautiful hair.
Any other vampire's mind would race at this sudden opportunity, thanks to her lack of judgment. She was leaving the safety of his gaze and walking in the opposite direction. She was a woman, alone at night far away from her village. All he needed to do was lure her away, and he was free to do as he wished; nobody would hear her if she screamed. They wouldn't realize until late that night or early that morning that she disappeared, giving him time to make his escape. Soundlessly, the vampire glided across the leaf-covered ground, following her though the trees. Her hand was on her cheek, and she gaze at the stars, silently asking the gods if her marriage to Atobe was what fate intended.
Fate.
He didn't believe in such a thing.
He was closer to her, following the woman like a ghost; he was so close, yet so hidden that he was able to smell her perfume, something of a mix between cherry blossom and white lily. Now, it was rare that he allowed himself to get close enough to a woman that he was able to smell him, and this was far more tempting than anything else. If Tezuka had less poise and control, he might have leaped out at her immediately after she was out of Atobe's sight—but that would be unwise. He needed to wait until she was farther away from him to make his appearance.
Suddenly, she stopped. He rapidly slowed; he was a few meters ahead, and deathly aware of the fact that her eyes were fixed exactly on the point where he was hidden. They scanned the surroundings for a minute intuitively until she opened her voice and called melodiously, "Whoever you are, come out." Somehow, she was able to detect him, as if she had an ulterior sense of the world like the little butterfly that sat innocently on the flower petal. The wind grew colder, and Tezuka made his decision quickly. It wouldn't be difficult to catch her here and lead her into the forest. Slowly, he stepped out into the moonlight, and she took a step back, raising her thin wrists in front of her face as a mean of self-defense.
The man she saw before her was, no doubt, on par with Atobe. His handsome features were somewhat different than her fiancée, though. Rather than his noble beauty that was bred for a life of affluence, this man had a wild, untamed beauty. His hair was unkempt as if he hadn't taken care of it in years and his skin was a flawless white; behind rimless glasses glowed the eyes of a beast, wild, wise, and untamable. Fuji's pulse began to speed.
Children knew little about seeking love in their hearts; she knew little about this man, but she felt more affection for him than she ever did Atobe. Even though Atobe was a kind man, her protector, her fiancée, and a humorous, attractive person, she easily threw aside all interest for a stranger who was stalking her.
"Who are you?"
Now, hearing her voice within such proximity, he knew that she was wiser than the swallowtail butterfly he remembered that flittered across flower petals in the spring. With this proximity, he was able to hear the rustle of the fabric of her kimono and hear each slow, calm breath. His mind and senses accurately pinpointed her most prominent veins near her wrist and neck where there was a pulse; at each thought, his skin crawled with the insatiable frenzy of bloodlust.
"Tezuka Kunimitsu," he answered through the haze.
She bowed politely, the fabric of her kimono sweeping her ankles with an audible swish. "My name is Fuji Shun. It's a pleasure to meet you, Tezuka-san." Fuji was being polite to him, even Her friendly, happy tone was like a breath of fresh air, but even then, Tezuka was immersed in his dark desires. However, he still had enough humanity left in him that he returned the gesture and answered as well.
"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Fuji-san."
He took a step backwards for a moment, and she eyed him. Tracing those beautiful blue depths wasn't difficult. He already was luring her with bait, even though the seduction wasn't outwardly obvious. Truthfully, Tezuka was probably the least talented person at seduction, but his handsome features kept Fuji tied to the ground. In knowledge, his eyes narrowed slightly, and his golden-hazel eyes brewed stormily under his eyelids.
"What are you doing out here alone?" he asked softly. His voice was as smooth as satin, yet at the same time it was curt and strict. Tezuka's voice held no false pretense. Instead, he acted naturally. He didn't act; it always worked better when he closed in on prey, unless they were somebody who didn't need to be seduced. In fact, he didn't care whether or not she was seduced. His skin crawled—his breath hitched. All he wanted was her blood, and to do that he knew that he needed to capture her attention so that she wouldn't try to run away or scream.
"I'm just walking home," she answered innocently, her smile thin and light against her pink lips.
"Ah,"
"Where are you going?" Tezuka was thinking spontaneously—slowly, he came up with his own reasons, and as if by magic, there was no hesitation involved. Tezuka answered on his tongue lightly as if it was the truth.
"I'm taking a walk through the forest. Would you like to come with me?"
Fuji tilted her head. Perhaps she detected that he didn't normally ask this. Slowly, she nodded, her smile curving slowly across her lips. With that, he turned away from her to hide an uncharacteristic look, his predatory smirk that curled sinuously across his lips like a puff of smoke before disappearing. Tezuka was too serious to let his satisfaction last for long. Sometimes, he thought a little too much for a vampire. He was a little less animal-like than the rest. He had a sense of mercy.
He wondered why his mercy didn't extend to her. Perhaps it was just because his lust for blood extended just that far.
He walked, and she followed as if by magic, tilting her head slightly and following him farther into the forest. Fuji was smarter than this, but out of her curiosity, she couldn't help but follow the handsome stranger into the forest, nearly entranced. Here, it was quieter, and they walked for a long time without either speaking. Fuji's hands felt cold now, and it was getting too late. Her mother was going to be worried about her. Maybe Tezuka would be able to show her the way home.
Of course, she knew she wasn't supposed to follow strange men into the forest—after all the rumors, but she easily fluttered behind him, and she sensed that he wasn't going to hurt her. Well, at least, he wasn't going to kill her. She trusted him with that, even when he finally stopped and she ran into him, her face pressing uncomfortably into the curve of his back.
He turned to her with a smoldering gaze that held her in place. Tezuka held her shoulders and looked her in the eye; under such scrutiny, she squirmed slightly. What in the world was this? The gaze grew hotter.
She didn't feel this way with Atobe.
"Fuji Shun-san," he stated, as if her final judgment was clear. "Why did you follow me?"
Suddenly, she caught it; she caught the glint of sharp canines, too sharp for a human's mouth. Was he an animal? Was he a monster from legends of the forest she heard as a child? For a moment, she tried to intimidate him, and it nearly worked. Her smoldering, angry blue eyes were enough to knock any human man off his feet. Beneath her fragile, womanly surface was a strong and competent girl. However, Tezuka was well poised to deal with it.
Her soft sigh powered the wind, and Tezuka turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder into the advancing darkness—his mind raced, his skin crawled and his mind was only focused on blood until a moment ago, when he suddenly realized they were not alone. Tezuka's cool glare into the shadows was enough to make anyone tremble, and for a moment, he folded his arms across his chest sternly like a frustrated parent. A monster didn't erupt from the darkness, but acutely, he could feel electricity build across the air and prickle across his skin. Fuji glanced at him and realized he'd gone rigid, like a wolf hunting its prey. She expected him to bolt at any moment; his hair stood on end and his back stiff. His eyes remained fixated on nothing but darkness.
Now was her chance—slowly, she stepped over twigs and leaves, her sandals falling soundlessly on the ground, until she was a meter away from Tezuka. Then, when she realized he hadn't noticed, she bolted.
It wasn't even a minute that she ran before something collided with her painfully, and fire danced across her shoulder. Sharp, cold metal touched her skin, and suddenly her ankles grew weak from the abrupt collision, and she fell, catching herself only before her face hit the ground. Her tongue was bleeding, though, and she spat out a mouthful of blood in disgust as the world swam before her eyes, a sea of blurred colors. Crimson seeped into the fabric of her torn kimono, and she blinked. "Tezu—" There was a blur of black that passed her eyes, and Tezuka appeared in front of her, baring his teeth and launching himself at another man with a feral growl. Slowly, she sat up, clutching her shoulder and wincing. There was blood there, and the sleeve of her kimono was torn.
The cut was deep, obviously, running innocently over the outside of her elbow before it's jagged path trace to her inner arm; here, it was considerably bloodier, and the cut ached. She tried to move her fingers, but only received the barest of responses. The arm was bloodied and burning with pain, didn't respond when she tried to lift it, so all she could do was clutch at it and wince as she shakily stood on her feet. Her arm still was bleeding extensively; she could feel it as the blood pooled and ran down her wrist and dripped off her fingers and onto the ground. It burned—her blood set her arm on fire, and she felt dizzy at the sickening, metallic scent of her own blood; why didn't she run? Tezuka and the other monster were immersed in a fight. If she wanted to, she probably could escape. However, fear froze her to the spot like glue; she trembled uncontrollably, not so much out of terror as blood loss. She felt so cold. Why?
Tezuka was slammed into the ground, and Fuji could nearly hear the snap of bone as his arm his the ground in an unnatural position. However, the man seemed as if it didn't faze him in the slightest. Rather, he growled and with renewed strength, he pushed his opponent off, grabbed the knife from his hands skillfully and propelled himself forward to meet the man's neck unpleasantly with the blade of the dagger. Blood fell across the man's face, clothes and glasses, but he wasted little time. As soon as his opponent was on the ground, he raced to Fuji and grabbed her; he pulled along with such force that Fuji's feet could barely follow.
He was pulling her deeper and deeper into the forest. Branches whipped her face and she was sure that she'd twisted her ankle painfully. She was running faster than she ever remembered in her life, even with an aching ankle. Some thoughts passed her mind, but what she thought most of was Tezuka. What was he going to do to her? Was he going to hurt her, or let her go? He wasn't a kind man, but he wasn't cruel, surely. She blinked as they slowed to a stop. Her ankle was screaming in protests and she wanted to sit down, but it was at least five minutes before Tezuka's bruising grip on her wrist loosened and he turned back to her with a cool gaze.
"Let me go," Fuji told him coolly. Slowly, she looked around. They were in the middle of the forest, lost, she assumed. Tezuka's cool fingers released her and lingered in the air slight before removing his glasses. He cleaned the bloodied lenses on his shirt, which seemed to absorb blood well. Tezuka put his glasses back on and simply looked at her as if he expected that she was going to try and run again.
No, now she realized she was hurt too much. Her ankle throbbed, but that was the least of her problems. Her kimono was now dotted with spots of dried and fresh blood. Her sleeve was torn, and she couldn't move her arm. The corners of her vision were slightly black, and she groaned; what she wouldn't give to sit down here and sleep…
Just for a moment, after all; she would only need to sleep for a moment.
"Tezuka-san, " she continued, though her voice was slightly slurred. "I have to get to the village. My mother is going to be upset."
Instead of nodding in agreement, Tezuka's eyes traced her kimono, now colored the pattern of the bloodstained wings of a dying butterfly. Her sleeves were weighted down with blood and no longer fluttered with the cold breeze. Her lips were paler and her eyes squinted in the vain hope of finding light in the obscure forest. "Rest," he allowed himself to speak. "You're injured."
No matter how much she wanted to follow those blessed instructions, she couldn't; she needed to get home no matter what. Goodness, her mother was going to be angry. She'd ruined a family heirloom and wandered off into the forest, a place where her mother so many times cautioned her not to go. Stumbling towards Tezuka, she caught herself and straightened by placing her hands on his shoulders. Her knees were week, and she couldn't lift her head all the way. Instead, it remained buried in the fabric of Tezuka's shirt.
"I can't," she told him. "My mother is already going to be upset, especially when she knows I was in the forest." Her breath was warm against Tezuka's chest, but the man remained stiff; the touch and warmth of a woman was completely foreign to him and he wasn't entirely pleased with it.
A moment later he steadied her, but knelt, bringing her to her knees. She was surprised by his cool, gentle touch. He was tender, yet behind his calm, emotionless expression, she was able to deduce that he wasn't planning on taking her home.
Maybe it would be interesting…The world was a swirl of colors around her, diluted by white and black. It made her so dizzy. Why couldn't she just close her eyes? Maybe, if she slept, she would realize that everything was a horrible nightmare. She was still trembling, and Tezuka could feel the minute, uncontrollable shivers. She opened her mouth and spoke again.
"You aren't human, your hands are cold."
Tezuka didn't respond.
"Are you dead?"
At first, she thought that he wasn't going to respond again, but eventually he opened his mouth, and from his pale lips, he spoke. "Yes." He could feel her head shift slightly against his chest. Her embrace was still foreign, but he didn't push her away. Slowly, after he answered, her lips parted and she let out a sigh, and then a soft chuckle that grew until it was a cool laugh full of self-ridicule.
"I am foolish." She let go of his arms and moved away from him, but remained on her knees. She didn't seem to have enough strength to stand anymore. Smiling, she continued, and he watched the sad butterfly lament. She didn't belong here, in this forest. She belonged somewhere in the sunlight, with flowers and her fiancée, a man that she could never love. "I expect that I'm going to die." She didn't sound upset, or scared. She only sounded disappointed. Was attraction for Tezuka enough to sacrifice her life for? Why did she follow him? Certainly, she valued life more than this.
Tezuka didn't answer.
It was ironic that she was looking for a way out of her marriage. Only an hour ago, she looked up to the stars and asked the gods if she was meant to marry Atobe. Was this their response? 'No'? She let another fit of laughter pass her lips and indulged on the thick scent of the forest. She could almost taste the scent of nearby flowers that grew in the moonlight. Their fragrance was beautiful, and their petals radiant. This was the way to escape her engagement to a man that she could never love.
There was something sad about it in Tezuka's eyes, though. He stood, took a step towards her, and knelt down again. Her eyelashes flutter to reveal beautiful, yet clouded blue eyes, tired and worn. "You will not die," His voice revealed glistening fangs, and he touched her shoulders.
She laughed again. "How is that, Tezuka-san?" Their lips were close enough to kiss, but both resisted the sore temptation. Her breath was warm against his colorless lips. She touched his face slowly and pressed a lingering kiss to Tezuka's lips, perhaps out of desperation. Even if Tezuka was a monster, she couldn't resist his attraction, and in her dying moments, she threw up her arms in surrender to the feelings that washed over her heart.
His hands tightened on her shoulders and this time Tezuka kissed her in a more fervid gesture, so passionate yet so abrupt that she began trembling harder. Her breathing was ragged. Though she tried to kiss him a third time, he stopped her. It was a good few minutes before he finally answered her as his eyes traced her paling skin. She'd lost too much blood now. She wasn't going to live.
"I'll give you life," he whispered softly to her.
She paused.
"How?" At that moment, maybe she squirmed against him only slightly. Her instincts were stronger than his heart. His proximity tugged lightly at her wings a little too roughly. Out of self-defense, she tried for only a moment to move away from him. Tezuka looked at her once again, in her bloodstained and torn kimono. She looked dying and weak, unable to fly away into the night air and towards the glowing moon. Tezuka had her trapped.
However, he didn't answer her question.
He lowered his mouth against the delicate curve of her neck. I'll show you.
It depends on your prospect of dying, but as for my deathfics, I think this was a nice change of pace, don't you?
Please review!