801rabu: (fic)
[personal profile] 801rabu

Distant thunder accompanied him in the seemingly endless road back home. He had no bike and the journey turned torturous. They were not following him, yet he felt death on his heels. Even so, he was well aware they would have finished him right there if they actually had felt like it. They were just trying to scare the outlander by delivering him a clear message. Get the heck outta here - or else.

An impressive storm was about to fall over him, like a final blow to his crushed hopes. He felt utterly beaten, his self- esteem vanished after the loath he had seen in those peoples faces. With no more energy to bear it all any longer, he admitted there was no other solution but to relinquish everything he had fought for.

But before he could abandon the place, he still had a sore issue to take care of. He wouldn’t leave the place in his current situation. Satoshi was and would always be the first of his priorities, and if anything, he needed to try and enforce his idea of restraining the Mujina. If it worked things would maybe get better. He could make money in the hotel and donate it to the victims. Perhaps that way he would be accepted by those people, or at least, left alone.

As soon as he reached the manor he would seal all windows, that way Satoshi wouldn’t have to be confined in the cellar. All he had bought lost along with his rucksack, he would have to settle for materials at hand. He would use the worn out ropes he had in the hut at the beginning, just in case, and stay with Satoshi during the day, vigilante. Later on, he would buy Satoshi anything he asked for so that he wouldn’t get bored. It seemed egoistical and cruel, as if he were planning on keeping him as a dog, but if he heard about his reasons, if he finally found the courage to tell Satoshi how he felt… maybe Kazunari could keep him by his side.

It was late evening when the storm finally broke, unleashing a lone lightning bolt that cast the wildness in stark black and white, followed by a terrible and deafening thunder. Kazunari took delight in the turbulent nature that threatened to destroy its meaningless observers.

The downpour turned furious from then on. Drenched to the bone and exhausted to his limits, Kazunari reached his destination. The regal building seemed not welcoming at all, repellent even, the darkened sky turning its silhouette into a horrid pile of pointed daggers.

Little did he know what awaited him inside, for his worst nightmares paled in contrast to the revelation he found upon his arrival.

The front door was broken, just like when Kazunari had first landed in those same grounds. The latch of the iron door lay broken in the kitchen floor. Pieces of furniture had been scattered all over the place.

It had run away.

Kazunari felt rotten, his insides churning into a putrid spiral that threatened to make him collapse. He overcame the urge to do so right then and there, for he wouldn’t be to rise again in hours… days possibly. But there was no reason to avoid it. He should surrender and take perverse pleasure in pain. For as long as he felt like. Forever most probably. After all, he had nothing else left to do in life other than mourn and wear away.

Satoshi must have woken up before transforming, must have figured out Kazunari had tried to imprison him. He didn’t know where the Mujina had gone to, but definitely, once Satoshi recovered his human form, he would never again return to him - to a nearly stranger who had played such an insulting trick on him.

Stoically suppressing the impulse to cry, Kazunari headed to his bedroom in reluctant and agonizing steps. He got rid of his dirty shoes, cold mud coated his bare feet. He unbuttoned the neck of his shirt too, wet and covered in dirt, and sat on the bed, bathed by the dim light filtering through slate gray clouds. It was summer, the days were endless. He had wished for winter to come, so that he could spend more time with Satoshi… in fact, he had even discarded the idea of running the hotel. He had just wanted what could never be anymore.

Satoshi had been right, the party would never arrive. And now that he finally abided to the harsh reality, what was the point of staying alive? Head down, he evaluated his scarce options.

Would he go on? Could he? He felt hollow like never before. Expendable. He contemplated making the searing pain cease, once and forever.

In the silence cut off by the pouring rain, in the very moment when he felt engulfed by the darkest of wishes, a sound alerted him.

It was getting louder. Coming nearer.

Resembled the cadence of paws, marring the wooden floor.

Rushing up the stairs in a hectic spurt.

I was Satoshi. Or rather, the other, driven by its sharp sense of smell.

Coming for him.

I might destroy you. Hadn’t Satoshi warned him countless of times?

Was that way how his miserable life would end? Was that the closure he had been hoping for just seconds ago?

The beast emerged from the corridor, its movements suddenly more calculated, sly, deadly eyes fixed solely on the newfound prey.

It was atrocious, a creature of unfathomable features. Its coarse fur was damp, dirty. The paws were toned and utterly dreadful, adorned with claws as long as Kazunari’s own fingers. Its denture, a solid and sharp set of ivory knives, showed traces of dried up blood.

Kazunari hadn’t been naive. He’d been a downright douche. And the ordeal he found himself in was nothing but the predictable result of his idiotic decisions. 

The animal pounced onto the bed, Kazunari’s efforts on running away becoming worthless under the fiend’s rampant advance. Slammed against the headboard in one single blow, the large claws bored painfully into his thin arms once the animal loomed over him.

He would die like this, ripped apart by the one who owned his heart. Satoshi would have stomped on it either way, so in those last moments, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter in which way the other killed him. He’d felt connected to someone for the first time, and that was how he would pay for dreaming so high.

If only it could be quick, painless.

The Mujina’s gaze pierced into Kazunari’s horrified features, no trace of humanity in the sanguinary eyes. As the last exhalation of daylight oozed through the intricate forging of the window, its brutal jaw opened to reveal the fangs that would ravage him. Kazunari’s panicked screams echoed in the dark room, the fierce onslaught that ensued only witnessed by the vague glow of the dying sun. The overwhelming force of the attack still surprised him to the point of uttering a last chocked gasp. The way in which the burning cavity closed into his skin made him scream louder, and the beast refrained from digging any deeper.

For a moment, Kazunari wondered if he’d somehow managed to get into Satoshi’s subconscious, because the decisive bite never befell and the mass of fur upon him went immobile. But he knew better. He quickly perceived it was a conscious, intelligent being. It was going to savor it.

Its grip became stronger, blood leaking from the fresh cuts in Kazunari’s shoulders. Even so, the horrific mouth remained still in his throat, all of the animal’s muscles clamped.

As if it was being restrained.

It was then when he realized. The room growing into shadows, he saw the fur slowly dissipating. Its deathly anatomy shrinking.

In few seconds Kazunari found himself lying under a naked and trembling man. Fangs were still on his delicate throat, not biting but tense and threatening. They slowly receded into human teeth, for he couldn’t feel them ripping at his skin anymore. And then Satoshi, already back into human shape, lifted his head from the wounded neck, his eyes wild, rabid, unhinged. His mouth expelled thick foam, his lips and chin were stained with fresh blood and there were awfully swollen veins in his neck and temples.

But nevertheless, it was Satoshi. His Satoshi. An insane but scared man who had just come back from the hell of savagery and was slowly regaining consciousness of who he was, gradually assimilating what he had been about to do to Kazunari’s body.

He was shaken to the core, face mirroring how his psyche had broken in half. It hurt to watch.

The crazed man tried to get away from the bed but Kazunari held him in place. Satoshi tossed, fought against it, a hint of animality still present in his demeanor, but Kazunari’s grasp turned firmer, now using both legs to enclose the other’s body. Satoshi wriggled a bit longer, and they both knew he could easily disentangle himself from such weak man, even hurt him in the process, but it wasn’t the other’s strength what kept him from breaking away.

It was the gesture in Kazunari’s face what managed to render him motionless, the meaning behind its intensity shocking him. He could finally read into Kazunari’s behavior, discern the real goal in the other man’s mind. Satoshi could at last grasp what underlay behind his stubbornness.

He couldn’t be more dismayed.

Kazunari was as desperate as to hold onto such an aberrant relationship, willing to allow a lethal threat in his life if that meant avoiding the loneliness. Acquiescencing to anything that might come as a result of his delirious choice just because he had no one else in the world.

It was pathetic. So indefinably sad. And all the more beautiful.

The guy beneath him had given him all, had even put his own life at stake. On that particular time of epiphany, Satoshi found himself with no more subterfuges under which to shield his own feelings.

No more walls to hide behind, no more chains to constrain his heart… his urges.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had touched another being, and all at once, he was being tightly embraced by none other than Kazunari. Besides, he couldn’t ignore that he was so achingly naked Kazunari’s touch hurt. Unable to suppress the last remnant of animalism, Satoshi ground into the inert man in full need, a pained whimper the only sign revealing he didn’t want to behave like that. He should stand up, run away from the delicious heat before he ended up soiling him, even if not with his claws.

Kazunari arched minutely in response, a naughty smirk directed at the man above. Satoshi spotted it then, the trail of blood marring the flawless skin in the other’s neck, gushing from a wound he himself must have inflicted. Suddenly hysteric, he tried to push himself away, but Kazunari clutched at his shoulders with all his might. Again, Satoshi could easily escape, and that had been his sole intention all along, but he made a grave mistake. He looked into Kazunari’s honest eyes and got hopelessly lost in their hidden implications.

Golden, beautiful eyes that were warm, disarmed, open… begging. Was Kazunari… inviting him? Satoshi’s stiff position relaxed for a moment, and Kazunari, aware of it, eased his hands onto Satoshi’s nape, softly, with a hint of hesitance, drawing Satoshi’s body down on him. One small hand travelled south, down the dark skinned spine, the tender fingerprints arousing each pore, and when the cute fingers cupped his rump Kazunari moved his head back, his pale neck exposed, available.

The younger man looked at him sideways, his eyes half lidded, his fleshy lips parted. A silent and sinful proposal that electrified Satoshi’s entire frame.

But he wouldn’t move an inch, afraid of the act itself. He’d never had such physical contact before, and he wasn’t sure of being able to accomplish certain feats in a satisfying manner. He would surely make a fool out of himself, and besides, he had always thought some things were better left unexplored.

He didn’t want this with Kazunari. Kazunari was much more, a sea far deeper than a rushed and febrile flow of need. His attraction towards the man had a quality of a higher importance than beauty or pure physical temptation. He was certain by then, he loved Kazunari.

But the man in question wouldn’t recoil, and moved against him in a lewd plea. Satoshi felt like bait, and unable to escape such trap, his limbs gave in at last. He melted in Kazunari’s warmth, shivering at the feel of such welcoming body. Satoshi’s face contorted into a painting of contrasts, pleasure and pain, furor and coyness mingling in his plump features. His libido was awakening, and he was terrified, unable to react in any way either to fuel his instincts or block them out.

He tried to untangle himself again but Kazunari struggled against it, and the more their bodies clashed in such useless quarrel the more aroused he became. A whine escaped his clenched teeth, a plea for Kazunari to back off, to stop this. Maybe they had been meant to end like that since his naked body awakened above Kazunari - perhaps since they met. Yet, he was not positive about entering those waters, no matter how much his groin screamed for it.

Kazunari was quite more confident though, and anchoring his ankles behind Satoshi’s shaking thighs, raised his hips up and forced his erection into Satoshi’s crotch unashamedly. It was a raw, terrible feeling, and in that very moment Satoshi realized how rigid he himself had become. Never had he felt such arousal, such a tidal heat – he couldn’t recall being excited at someone before, never pondered on that thing called mating, so he was way beyond stirred up by Kazunari’s demands.

Hard rain poked against the window, night had already settled, and Satoshi could barely make out Kazunari’s immaculate and heaving breast, his torn and scattered shirt, the flush in his face or those lovely yet daunting eyes. Even so, he could fathom the vast pleasure they promised Satoshi.

He surrendered to the might in that gaze, and lust winning over reason, he dove his hips into the inciting man out of sheer instinct. Kazunari clung to him fiercely, his chin trying to reach the sky, his Adam’s apple shinning with blood. Unable to stop himself anymore, Satoshi plunged into the flesh and lapped at the marks of his abuse on the slender throat, encaging him within his quivering arms and soul, rutting into him in delirious ecstasy.

Advancing towards Kazunari’s exposed chest, he nipped at the skin as he worked the buttons to his navel, hastily, driven by rapture. Kazunari writhed under the eager lips, almost silent mewls escaping between the child-like fingers that covered his mouth. Satoshi continued striping his willing prey, not bothering to take the dirty shirt off and going straight to the buttons on Kazunari’s pants. He was fast but never clumsy, his own nakedness and raging hard on guiding every move, never distracted in idle motions.

Satoshi just wanted him, and in the unyielding state of frenzy he was in, him meant Kazunari’s crotch, his most intimate and ignited of places. In seconds, Kazunari’s manhood was free of layers, stiff and pressed flat against his smooth belly.

Fairly smaller than mine, Satoshi noted, but he was not interested in such comparisons. He just craved to delve into that pristine and breathtaking body, join their sensitive members, and rub with abandon.

But Kazunari soon grew tired of it. He wanted more. He wanted all of it.

He pushed the other aside to move closer to the nightstand, Satoshi’s sudden confusion disappearing when he reached for the lamp switch and turned it on. So Kazunari wanted to see. Satoshi was comfortable with that, in fact, he encouraged it, being able to observe Kazunari’s naked frame in a better lighting an unexpected bonus.

But then Kazunari produced a small crystal bottle from inside the drawer, and he wasn’t so delighted anymore.


Kazunari had always favored men, at least since his college days, when he would daydream of kissing or groping some of his classmates. Or rather, he dreamt of being groped, because he was so isolated at that time his fantasies would always involve being wanted by those around.

As frowned upon and marginal as his preferences were, he still got to learn about the essential stuff, even in total absence of practice. He knew what came afterwards, what men did when worked up - just the same, but using another hole. It had seemed pretty filthy to him back then.

But when fantasizing about Satoshi he had done more than dreaming... he had ventured, and finally knew how it felt back there, his fingers difficultly working through the clenched ring as his mind pictured Satoshi’s slender digits doing it.

There was that one night when the mere presence of Satoshi’s delectable build had left him so totally frustrated and itching, that he wasted no time in retiring to bed to try and add more fingers to placate his hunger. It was in times as such that he imagined another part of Satoshi stuffed inside him. The resultant orgasms were, simply put, acutely mind-blowing. He had to force a hand over his mouth to prevent Satoshi from hearing anything, his strained moans so forceful that would easily reach the corridor otherwise. He couldn’t either suppress the heavy panting that came in the aftermath, when he would need several minutes to recover from the rush.

Suspecting that the Mujina’s outstanding senses were also present when Satoshi was human, he had finally opted for doing it only during the day, so that he could be as loud as he wished. This also allowed him to be spent in bed for a good while afterwards, thinking about his coward behavior towards Satoshi - which usually led to a semi-depressed state. His bleak mood only worsened when Satoshi returned home and he was faced with the palpable reality of their distance, with his foolish longing and dirty onanistic delusions, and worst of all, with the fact of somehow having used the other man. On those days, Kazunari felt so ashamed at himself he tried to keep the conversation as scarce as possible for the rest of the night, utterly mortified each time Satoshi looked and him kind of fondly, unknowingly.


Kazunari poured the clove oil he himself had distilled weeks before into his hand, and applied it on as he had done many times before, hands searching behind him in a gesture that aspired to be erotic. Satoshi shot him a stunned and disapproving gaze.

“You... you’re not-” He couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew nothing about that kind of preparations, but there was one only logical explanation for Kazunari to be oiling himself.

“No. You are.” Kazunari’s grin was mischievous, his teeth showing in snarky glory, his eyes steamy and determined. Bewildered, Satoshi wondered where that sultry guy had come from. He was not so sure himself - was he? Was he going to do him? That frail but tempting body, would he tear it open?

Kazunari gave him no room for further dilemmas. He lay on his back and showed Satoshi his most private orifice, indecently, bending his legs in a slow and obscene sight so that Satoshi could peek into the glistening entrance.

The whole room smelled strongly of clove, an overpowering combination of sweet spices and earth. Intoxicated by it, he looked into the hole, its deliberate twitching luring Satoshi into a heavy daze. He felt like bathed in the ripe environment, floating towards the inviting body.

His arms and legs moved on their own, crawling on top of Kazunari, his lips closing around the other’s in loud and slushy noises. He brought his hips down repeatedly, angling with Kazunari’s pert dick, savoring each of the moans he provoked. He had just landed in a pool from where there was no way out. His body fed in Kazunari’s warmth, his mouth became rough on pale skin, his member rooted aimlessly against the slightly haired crotch. 

It all served no purpose anymore. Then, why keep avoiding the real deal?

He slid his hard on along Kazunari’s perineum, granting access to rub against his hole. It was slick, maybe too much, they noticed once Satoshi started to push in and couldn’t, the tip constantly slipping in the last moment.

He would have to use more force.

Holding Kazunari’s thighs in his forearms, he lifted the man’s lower body and pushed in, keeping a steady and not so careful pressure. The opening gave way reluctantly while Kazunari’s face contorted in pain.


Anticipation soon wrecked into despair.

It hurt. It hurt like being stabbed and torn apart from the inside, as if his guts would burst any time - but Satoshi went on, centimeter by centimeter, tearing him deeper with that implacable intrusion. Amidst the searing pain, Kazunari briefly wondered if he might be bleeding. Sooner or later, he wouldn’t be able to stop his eyes from spilling hot tears.

Despite the alarming pain, Kazunari endured the penetration stoically, almost ceremoniously, and with horror, he found out why.

He submitted to the torment as part of the fate judged upon him. He deserved it, to be ravaged by a man who was nothing but a creature of evil, his redemption delivered by a horrific shapeshifter that personified the malady itself, the nameless ghost his family had spread.

It probably had been his destiny all along, his pathetic wish of being cradled by someone, anyone, leading him to become soiled by this monster. The demon that was born as atonement for the Noguchi’s sin, Kazunari’s sacrifice the payment required as retribution for devastating a whole community for generations to come. Might the fiend’s seed rot him all over – he would accept his body to become deformed, just as the disease had done with the villagers.

It wouldn’t change a thing. After every excruciating experience Kazunari had gone through in that disastrous day, he was already broken beyond repair. 


A lone tear flowed along with sobs that rapidly turned into wails. When Satoshi realized something was going awfully wrong he retreated instantly, panic written in his eyes and hands shaking in terror. Had he hurt Kazunari too badly?


The severe strain of being entered was gone, but the wrecking void it left behind made Kazunari go havoc. He started screaming like mad, all the torment accumulated over years of contained pain running free in an uncontrollable torrent.

Satoshi was also frantic, unable to comprehend what had happened to the man that would sway so deliciously just moments before. Kazunari had acted so unstoppable, so impatient, challenging Satoshi in an ardent and cocky demeanor, leading him into it. It was patent by then that just as himself, Kazunari was no adept in the matter, and that the avid man had obviously miscalculated.

In few seconds, all that had happened between them, all they had shared in those long and soul-warming nights meant nothing. Whatever their relationship and what happened in that room ought to be called, the current state of Kazunari spoke volumes of how unsuited their melding had been.

What they had tried was not conventional, not by Satoshi’s standards. He had been lured into believing it would be fine. It certainly had not turned out that way, and by the look of the situation, they had most probably just screwed everything up. If he were to stay, he would have been content with having Kazunari by his side, thus being able to look into his eyes each night and behold the sparkly and longing gaze the beautiful man would shot him. He would have asked for nothing more. He wasn’t a touchy man after all.

Satoshi struggled to say something in order to save what was left of them, but he couldn’t find any word able to appease a man in such distress. Afraid his proximity might be worsening Kazunari’s anxiety, Satoshi leant on his knees, trying to strip away from the hectic man. To his surprise, Kazunari responded trapping him between arms and legs. He held onto Satoshi’s frame for dear life, not letting the man above move one inch further from him.

He continued crying, a bit more calmed down and chanting apologies into Satoshi’s ear, his voice so weak the other could only decipher the words out of repetition.

“Sorry… sorry - I’m so sorry. Forgive me Satoshi, I’m so sorry.” A mantra that seemed to go on forever. It explained nothing though, and Satoshi felt absolutely lost. He tried to utter some words of comfort either way.

“You... Kazu, you don’t have to be. I don’t need... this. We tried and didn’t work out. It’s fine. It’s fine without it.”

He hoped he got his point across. Forget this and stay with me.

He hoped it wasn’t too late.


Kazu. Hearing his name called in that familiar, that almost belonging diminutive, Kazunari broke down.

He had always considered himself a civilized and tenable man. Someone with a logical and enlightened mind that stood far from beliefs and closer to scientific evidence. Yet, for a fleeting moment, the most miserable of his existence, he had cast away all knowledge of the world he possessed and chose to be sheltered by superstition. Indulging in the pain, he had attempted to buy an escape, an explanation he’d never been able to find using more objective and rigorous means. A reason, of any kind and based in any available creed, that could justify why he’d been forced into such a mean life.

If not an explanation, he needed at least a cavalry to walk through, an almighty catastrophe to fall upon him. Something big enough to erase all doubts, to destroy his will and render him unable to keep fighting.

An episode so transcendental, a revelation so capital that would show him any effort on escaping the damnation of his family had only been the sterile struggle of a mere mortal to elude his awaiting destiny.

He had secretly strived for a chance for the hidden guilt to whisper he was just as despicable as his father had been. A crucial event that would force him into believing he was also at fault, and hence, deserved any punishment that shall be imposed upon him.

Satoshi’s entrance in his body, and the unbearable pain that had come with it, had provoked a deranged twist in his mind, all of his demons coming alive at once. In those long seconds when he had agreed to abandon rationality and tried to grasp at straws, he had identified Satoshi as the legitimate executioner.

His poisoned mind had dared call him a monster... and he would never forgive himself for as long as he lived.

He lay immobile, in the caring embrace of Satoshi, the only man that had understood him, the only who had been drawn to him - the first in years who had made Kazunari feel esteemed. But his tears wouldn’t stop. Someone as shitty and broken as him was the last thing the quiet and pure Satoshi deserved.

He was a rotten cynic, an untrusting and damaged doll, an impulsive and capricious brat, a selfish asshole Satoshi shouldn’t give a heck about. But there, in his sun blazed arms, he felt better, he felt whole. The feeling that bloomed within his chest every time the other was around reminded him of his childhood days, when no cloud had darkened his soul yet. He wished to make that emotion flourish, for it helped him strive to leave his worst self behind. He would only accomplish it with Satoshi’s support, and for being allowed to stay by his side and try, he was willing to do anything.

He had nothing to offer in exchange though. Nothing but himself. Maybe that was why he’d been so adamant on going all the way.

“From today on...”, he tried between hiccups, “…once I become defiled, I’ll always carry you inside.” He looked at Satoshi then, his bleeding heart mirrored in a mirthless gaze. The man above couldn’t understand a thing yet, but kept listening patiently, worry and dreary stupefaction blurring his intuition. Was Kazunari voicing his loath for what they had almost done?

“Whatever comes in the future, only in you I’ve found warmth… if you would accept me… I shall always be bound to you. Only you.”

Satoshi was dumbfounded, taken aback by the outspoken commitment. He couldn’t produce the faintest of smiles, even being incommensurably happy, for the words Kazunari had uttered were so loaded with faithfulness and love he was unable to say a thing, his throat strangled with taut emotions. He couldn’t hold them for long though, and delicate drops gushed from his eyes, traveling towards his chin to finally land on Kazunari’s bare collarbones.

“Come into me. Seal this promise.” It was a cheesy and old-fashioned thing to say, but he couldn’t find a better way in which to convey his bursting feelings.

“Not gonna force myself on-” Kazunari closed his hand over Satoshi’s lips, gently spreading his lithe thighs, inviting him with painful earnestness. He looked for sublimity in their union, a greatness beyond all possibility of measurement, an act so elevated it would erase everything else from his battered mind. A passport to a new life.

But even after those honest words and bold actions, Satoshi was still intransigent, so Kazunari encouraged him further, shifting his hips to get a better angle. He received no reaction.

“I don’t care about the pain. I welcome it in fact. I want anything that you shall give me.” He would turn the pain into delight, something entirely distinct from positive or plain pleasure, something much more exalted and fulfilling. He would be reborn from this experience.

Satoshi refused again and Kazunari was obliged to take control. His hand reached to guide the awaited organ into him, but he found it totally limp, all the previous fuss and Kazunari’s will to be hurt by him rendering Satoshi ice-cold and unresponsive.

Satoshi was positive after what happened moments before in that same room. He had most surely killed many men while being the other. It made him feel inhuman, worthless of existing in a world where he had stolen other’s lives in such a horrid manner. But nevertheless and even if it sounded awfully egoistical, he would never be able to live with the regret of having caused the minor scratch to one particular man, and what Kazunari was asking for was way beyond hurting him.

Willing to erase all turmoil from the paralyzed man, Kazunari eased himself on top of Satoshi, losing no time in traveling down his body to take the dormant member in his mouth - just as he had fantasied on those itchy evenings when carnal images had plagued his mind. Satoshi protested weakly, but his flesh rapidly grew into a rigid shaft under Kazunari’s unabashed laps. Watching the rosy lips engulf him whole, he lost any previous reticence and jerked his hips in barely restrained appreciation.

Kazunari couldn’t hide his joy at having Satoshi at his mercy, nor a hint of pride, being the one to procure him that kind of pleasure the best victory he could ask for. Satisfied with the impressive awakening, he let it go in a one last languid suck and leant back on the mattress, coaxing the older man onto him.

Satoshi was rather heated by then, but it only took his swollen glans to touch the tender flesh around Kazunari’s entrance for both to go into full blown arousal. Facing each other, Kazunari raised one of his legs, leaning a knee over Satoshi’s waist, thus giving the other full access to his body. But Satoshi was still refraining from making any movement, terrified of hurting Kazunari again, so the latter’s body bucked against him in obstinacy, taking it almost whole in one go. A hoarse cry erupted right from Kazunari’s gut, his ribcage swelling due to the sharp intake of breath that ensued. Satoshi tried to get out hastily, but Kazunari only pushed him deeper, the herb oil he had applied turning his backside kind of numb by then, making him perfectly able to take that and more.

Satoshi knew nothing about such relieving properties and hence struggled against the urge to pound into Kazunari’s heat. Only when seeing the tiny hints of pleasure mixed with expressions of pain in Kazunari’s face did he give in. Making use of trial and error and trying to control his movements to the best extent possible, he gradually succeeded in stretching Kazunari out, entering him in different angles, languidly, minding not go too far in his thrusts. He managed to sink deeper each time, Kazunari’s muscles slowly relaxing and welcoming Satoshi’s invasion with growing gratification.

Kazunari clenched around the member within him shakily, his mouth jerking in odd gestures. He was losing control. His eyes rolled back impossibly, his asshole so dilated the friction became delicious, his body so kindled he just couldn’t take enough.

He could not utter a word, but his features spoke volumes. He was coming.

In that moment, Satoshi dared defy his own rules. He would need to be careless, let his worst impulses take charge and ram hard in order to give the enraptured man what he was desperately asking for. He held Kazunari’s leg over his shoulder and merciless, rhythmic pounding followed; the bead creaked in grating noises, Kazunari arched in a tense twisting of his back, drowning in his own broken gasps and screams, groaning erratically as their sweaty skin clashed in unrefined sounds. The tight coil clenching his groin finally broke free, strained spurt landing on Kazunari’s chest and belly. 

The following litany of recovering moans was enough to lead Satoshi to his final and raw thrusts. He snugged his face in the crook of Kazunari’s neck and shot inside him, his soul crumbling, seed not spilled in years fiercely invading the other man’s pliant body.

In that very moment, and as Kazunari had promised, they became bonded, and he hoped it would be for years to come, if not forever. Coming back from the blinding height, Satoshi embraced the man lying with him, nestled into his form, an indescribable awareness of belonging with him surging from his very core.

Kazunari seemed lethargic, half gone. His body was about to collapse after such a day, he couldn’t recall ever being that tired.

“That all you got?”, Satoshi joked.

Kazunari still had the energy to show him a tired smile. His eyes already closed, he pouted his lips, cutely asking for a last kiss. Satoshi obliged immediately, an unbearable emotion tightening his heart.

The rain had stopped, the gentle breeze refreshing their damp skin, providing a sensation close to utter bliss and slowly cradling them into slumber.


They woke up to disrupting sounds.

No chance to relish in the other’s embrace in what was supposed to be the first morning of a new life. No shy looks shared, no nervous satisfaction at remembering everything that had transpired between them hours ago. Only shouts full of hate, violent pounding on the door and the loud crash of windows shattering.

Still raw naked, Satoshi left the bed hastily and got closer to the balcony door, never letting the men outside spot him. Kazunari tried to join him as well when a wrecking pain in his abdomen made him gasp in shock. His body half anesthetized due to the clove oil, they had been too daring, too rough, and now he could hardly move from waist down.

Satoshi looked at him in a guilty gesture, and felt utterly appalled when discovering the dark bruise on Kazunari’s left cheekbone. Had he – or it whatsoever - also inflicted that? He was clearly a danger for him, a man who by all means was too frail to withstand such brash encounters.

Seeing the other worried sick, Kazunari reached for his own face. His digits ran across the telling pain of swollen skin.

“Ah… this. They punched me yesterday. I don’t even know how I made it alive from there. It was a trap - but this…”

He hoped those words would give Satoshi a hint. They were not fooling around. The villagers had given him a warning the previous day, he should have left immediately. Satoshi, or rather, the incident with the Mujina and what came afterwards had prevented him from doing so, and therefore, their threat had become acutely tangible.

It was a stupid thing to say, but he did not regret a thing. Instead of packing his few belongings and running away, he had spent the night becoming one with Satoshi. The only thing he had strived for was finally in his hands. He would bravely affront the worst of endings, once granted that there was someone who had loved him.

Villagers had come for him, for whom they thought to be the Mujina. In rabid clamor, they hailed for the monster to come out, and both were suddenly struck with fear. The wise decision would be to hide, but they were well aware. There would be no such possibility. Morning would soon arrive, and it was either the virulent crowd assaulting the building or Kazunari, but someone was certainly about to taste the Mujina’s force upon themselves in few minutes.

“Don’t know what will become of me but- …but, if I were to be born again… I’ve been opposed to this like a fool. Forgive me Kazu…” he offered, honest with Kazunari for the first time.

Satoshi tried to prolong his time by Kazunari’s side, uttering useless words of comfort, but soon tremors arose, forcing him to run downstairs and out of the house. He left a promise behind though. “Run away. I’ll search for you.” Should Kazunari manage to escape the assault, Satoshi would find him again, wherever he was.

Satoshi had already transformed, brutal growls filling each and every room with the Mujina’s evil will. As the beast broke through one of the windows into the manor grounds, Kazunari made an effort to get up from bed and witness the slaughter. He wasn’t pleased about it, because nothing hurt him more than seeing Satoshi become prisoner to his inexorable nature, but he found solace in the certainty that there was a justification to the bloodshed about to take place. It was going to be just fair, and those maniacs would soon meet their match.

He paced towards the balcony in a painful drag, and when he finally leant his throbbing pelvis against the door frame and took a hesitant glance downwards his eyes shot wide open, the scene taking place at the entrance of the manor something beyond his wildest imagination.

The mob had dared attack the huge animal. Disposing a well calculated ambush, the strongest of men tried to retain the fiend using a large and sturdy fishing net, while others lashed at his spine with iron hoes. The Mujina retaliated, enraged and powerful, but it didn’t get to free itself before a huge rock was thrown at his head, making the mass of muscles and fur hit the ground. Taking advantage of the short moment of dizziness provoked, nearly a dozen men jumped on it, one of them revealing an oversized sickle. The badger, Satoshi, Kazunari forced himself to remember, still fought against its attackers, but it was already too late.

The sharp blade dug into the animal’s throat, thick and dark blood rushing from the wound profusely, snatching its life away through the jugular vein.

Kazunari couldn’t stand it any longer. In full panic, he closed the curtains and cried, howled until he bled his heart out, curled on the floor like a hopeless child. He still registered the loud roar coming from outside, die you goddam Noguchi!

Why did Satoshi have to be the one paying for it? The old woman had been right… darkness followed his family. However, the worst was that they also spread it anywhere they went, everything they touched got soiled with that same darkness. He felt near to breaking into a thousand tiny pieces, his head aching due to the force of his dire wails.

He ought to go out and help him, defend what was left of Satoshi’s body, but who could he protect with his weak body and total lack of leadership? They would rip him apart just as easily. But he chastised himself anyway, because even in such a doomed situation, he knew he would never forgive himself for not affronting those who were slaying the only love he had ever known. He could at least appear in front of those salvages and show them how wrong they had been. The Mujina was indeed real, but it definitely wasn’t him. That thought only buried him deeper in burning culpability, because it was him and his shameful kindred what they were after. None other.

He was just a sore coward, someone incapable of defending a love that was never meant to be.

Hadn’t he promised? Whatever comes, I shall stay by your side… or else vanish. Would he, at least, have the guts to commit suicide as he had vowed?

He soon found there would be no need for him to settle on any decision. The choleric commoners, driven by a frenzy exaltation of triumphalism, had encircled the building and were throwing large bales of hay on fire through the broken windows.

Years ago, those same villagers had despoiled the manor after his family was forced to flee, just as the irate masses put an end to the magnificence of the Palace of Versailles.

It hadn’t been enough. The Noguchi, and their curse, had returned to Minamata. That time around there would be no rebound, they would erase the infamous family’s trace once for all.

The scars of the victims left behind by the disgraceful Minamata disaster, of Kazunari’s unceasing loneliness, of Satoshi’s unfair existence and harrowing fate… all of it lay within the walls of that house, and at last, the fire would consume it all.

In the warm light of the breaking down, the majestic house burned in ill-willed flames, a vibrant, strident flare that shall consume it all and grant everyone some kind of peace.


Don’t fret, there will be an epilogue. I was so tempted to leave it here though, what do you guys think? As always, your thoughts are sooo appreciated!!

The extract about the girl with Minamata disease is based on the essay Tomoko Uemura in Her Bath (1971) by photographers W. Eugene Smith and wife Aileen. Eugene was attacked by Chisso Company employees during his stance in Minamata, resulting in sight damage in one eye. You can search for this photographic report on Google, but keep in mind you may find the images disturbing.

Thanks so much for reading!!

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November 2016


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