Archive of Our Own ^beta

His steps resonated through the empty corridor. To the prisoners held in those dirty and dark cells, that constant low beat was even scarier than any cocking of a gun would be. The sound of the steps finally stopped by the end corridor where Yukimura stood and adjusted the jacket over his shoulders, before he opened the door. The sight that greeted him was just what he had expected to find. With an amused smirk, Rikkai’s kumichou crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the bound prisoner on the floor. His glasses were askew and chipped at one corner, a perfect match for his split lip and numerous bruises that were already forming.

“Did he give you a hard time, Sanada?”

“Not at all, Yukimura-kumichou.” Came Sanada-fukuhonbucho’s reply, standing tall and proud next to the prisoner. The fact he was sporting a splitted lip of his own didn’t surprise Yukimura. It was to be expected their guest wasn’t the type to go down without a fight. Truth to be told, Sanada seemed thrilled by it. After all, it was hard for him to find worthy opponents with Rikkai’s ruthless reputation.

“Of course. The rest?” Yukimura asked with a pleased look on his face. Rikkai’s efficiency was unquestionable and remarkable; there was nothing to fear from problematic upstarts like this one. Immediately, Sanada reported as requested.

“Saotome was killed on the spot, two others are already locked up and Akaya is chasing after the rest. I don’t think you will get them back in one piece, kumichou.” Or alive, came without saying. There were few people that had the nerve or stupidity to try to sneak their way into Rikkai’s territory, and even fewer were crazy or suicidal enough to go through it, after seeing what Ouja Rikkai was capable of.

Nobody would survive when the Family decided to take the matter into their own hands.

The prisoner was making a tremendous effort to get back onto his feet. Yukimura thought it was quite the futile intent, as Sanada had done quite the number on him, both physically and...artistically. Even if Yukimura wasn’t gifted in the arts of bondage, he could certainly appreciate the beauty of the contrast caused by rope on skin. Neither of them said a word as they watched the prisoner find some leverage and to get back on his feet. At the end of his struggles, Sanada just kicked out the back of his knees, ruthlessly, to make him fall back to the floor again.

Yukimura’s smirk became wider as the sound of a pained grunt was heard. This was going to be fun. He reached down and pulled the prisoner up by the chin, so he could stare this so-called “threat” straight in the eyes.

“I’ve heard of you, Hitman. Perfect assassinationss, I believe? Well this time, you picked the wrong target. You don’t know how much you’re going to pay for it, but you will.” Forcefully releasing the other’s chin, Yukimura turned to Sanada. “Leave us alone, I’ll take care of it from here.”

“His feet are not bound, Yukimura-sama,” Sanada hurried to add as he reached for some rope to fix that, but he was promptly stopped by a wave of Yukimura’s hand.

“Leave him like this.” Sanada’s overprotective side was endearing most of the time, but not when they were in front of someone like Kite Eishirou. Yukimura knew it wasn’t Sanada’s intention that Yukimura couldn’t deal with a bound prisoner, it was just his overprotective side that always worried for his safety and well-being. Still, it was rather irritating at times, Sanada forgetting that Yukimura had earned his place as the head of one of the most powerful Yakuza families. The rumors of what he had done to achieve that were pathetic compared to the reality of the events; only his body covered in ink could tell the true story behind it. “I like a good challenge, just like you do.”

Sanada looked troubled for a moment. Still, he would never disobey a direct order from Yukimura, even if didn’t quite agree with it. He double-checked that the ropes tying the prisoner would hold, before forcibly shoving the man back down to the floor as a warning. In the meantime, Yukimura had taken his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of the only chair in the small room and only gave a vague nod in Sanada’s direction, when his second-in-command bowed before leaving.

The lock of door clicking into place gave a dramatic sense of finality to the whole deal, causing Yukimura to grin just slightly.

Rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, Yukimura gave no warning as he punched the bound man in the face hard enough to knock him over again. The cracking noise Yukimura’s fist made when it collided with the other’s jaw sounded more like he had popped the jaw into place instead of breaking it. Good. The prisoner would need to speak eventually. “Outsiders are not allowed to roam free in Rikkai’s territory. You see, I don’t like sharing and you've been playing dirty in somewhere you don’t belong to. My playground, as you may call it.”

Yukimura saw the man spitting blood to the floor and smirked, satisfied.

“I believe you have that perfectly clear now, right?” Yukimura continued, looking down at the scum that soiled his ground, with an amused chuckle. “It is a shame you didn’t know it before. Sanada tends to get carried away with new toys. Should I have interrupted his fun a little earlier? My apologies.” Yukimura continued nonchalantly as he took the chair and turned it around to sit on it, resting his elbows on the backrest. “Let’s have a little talk, shall we?”

The man struggled to get up again and stayed stubbornly quiet, it was annoying. The fact he could still stand -quite gracefully- even if he was severely injured and bound, intrigued Yukimura and made him arch an eyebrow at the sight. The prisoner sat in a somewhat awkward-looking seiza and Yukimura wondered if Sanada had damaged his knees permanently with that last kick and if he was just unable to stand up. There wasn’t much to time for Yukimura’s mind to wander in shallow thoughts before he was startled by something wet sliding down his cheek and staining his perfect white shirt in a diluted crimson. Kite had spat at him. Yukimura’s eyes hardened into a murderous glare.

“What do you want to talk about Yukimura-kumichou” Have Kite had the nerve touse such a mocking tone to that after Sanada’s beating? “Well, so far as of tonight, I’m the one who took from you a total of seven gangs, three districts and five of your incoming weapons are safe in our two bases that we set in... what did you call it? Your playground?” Kite said and his glasses glinted under the dim lighting of the room, his whole form projected pride even if he was hunched by the bounds.

Either Sanada was going soft with his interrogation techniques (which Yukimura doubted) or Kite actually lived up to his reputation, and if that was true, Yukimura was going to enjoy breaking him down.

“It seems that we’ve overlooked the insects crawling in the shadows for longer than it was strictly necessary.” Using the back of his hand to wipe the spit off of his face, Yukimura gave the intruder a close-lipped smile that promised pain. “It’s a big territory, the one we control, but as you can surely see now, it didn’t take much effort from us to crush the little annoyances in one night.”

Reaching forward with his foot, Yukimura poked the side of Kite’s torso where a bruise was already blossoming. It felt tender under the pressure. Was it a broken rib, maybe?

“The thing is, Kite, cockroaches possess knowledge. Disgusting as they are, they crawl to the darkest places to form their colonies, just like the worst of our kinds. They are so alike, aren’t they?” Yukimura continued and pressed harder against the wound with his shoe, wanting to see a sign of pain in the other’s face.

But Kite held that poker face quite stubbornly.

“Maybe I just want to know what this little cockroach knows about my family and about those that think they can stand a chance against me,” Yukimura casually added.

“Is that so?” Kite’s voice was composed, if a little raspy. The only indication that it might be indeed a broken rib under Yukimura’s foot was the uneven breathing. Kite stayed perfectly still as he met the glare that reduced lesser men into quivering messes. With a smirk of his own.

“It is indeed. Who knows? Maybe if the cockroaches show themselves to be useful to the master of the house...” Yukimura continued nonchalantly, as he slowly but steadily increased the pressure on Kite’s side, “...he might not have them cornered and extinguished...one by one...” The blue haired yakuza punctuated each one of his words with painful jabs to the wound, pushing the other’s limits before stopping and pulling his foot away.

Kite took a deep breath when the pressure disappeared. Yukimura smiled with satisfaction at the small droplets of sweat on the other’s forehead.

“Why would we settle for such a shitty deal when we clearly managed to impinge on your resources?” Kite said, raising his head as much as his bonds allowed him to. Yukimura thought that it must have been painful to try to keep his back straight like that. It definitely looked like it.

“Because you already lost the opportunity of defeating us. Well, you never really had it, but delusions are nice, hmmm?,” Yukimura patiently explained, almost sweetly, as if he was telling a toddler why he couldn’t have cookies for dinner, “Your sponsor’s dead. I’ve captured you, the leader, and I also have two of your associates--whom I hardly believe are as willing as you to endure pain--at my disposal. As much as you wish to believe otherwise, your lives are at my mercy.”

Yukimura tilted his head to the side, as if measuring the bound man and his large pride, before continuing.

“You heard Sanada, I let loose my crazy little shatei on the rest of your people. I don’t think we’ll hear of them again.” The Rikkai leader leaned forward conspiratorially, so he could lower his voice, almost as if he was telling Kite a secret. “I don’t take you as the type to play the martyr, because you’re a smart guy. Aren’t you, Kite? Think of this as choosing a life similar to the one you had before, over a slow painful, torturous death. The only small price to pay is pledging loyalty to Rikkai and bowing down to me...”

Yukimura reached forward to roughly caress a swollen, bruised cheek, from which Kite recoiled, with a deathly glare. “Of course, if you choose the first and change your mind midway, I can always indulge you and oblige the second option.”

Kite’s laugh resonated in the small room, his whole body shaking slightly with the force of it. The muscles of his left side spasmed in pain, proving that Sanada’s beating had given him a broken rib. Yukimura crossed his arms, expectantly.

“Why would I do that?” Kite asked, “Pretty words, so far, Yukimura-kumichou. What I’ve seen in my short time here is a little different: lack of control in the lower zones of the territory, infights, poor discipline. Are you sure you’re not speaking of old glories that died, before your time… or maybe because of you?”

Yukimura laughed, sincerely amused at the boldness. “It seems you only focused on what you wanted to see. Crime is crime, after all. A certain amount of organized chaos is needed in order to peace to prevail. Shall I prove to you what the glory of Rikkai is based on? What this territory has truly become under the few years of my administration, then?” Standing up, Yukimura put the chair out of the way and circled the kneeling man, with the fierce stare of a predator before tearing up his prey. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Be my guest.”

Pacing himself around Kite, Yukimura let the tension grow until it was palpable in the room, enjoying every second of it. He would show the little cockroach that having big ambitions was pretty useless if one wasn’t strong enough to achieve them. “Very well, then.” He said before taking place behind Kite and kicking apart his legs, which forced them to open and increased the pressure on the other’s knees. Grabbing a handful of that ridiculously styled hair, he yanked Kite’s head back hard, painfully bending him backwards so Yukimura could see his face.

“Don’t regret getting what you asked for,” Yukimura said, barely above a deadly whisper, and yet Kite’s smirk was still there.

“I won’t.” The bound man’s glasses glinted again. There was a sound of clothes shifting, and one of Kite’s legs hooked around Yukimura’s while the other one kicked him hard behind the knees. Yukimura gasped as he lost his ground and grunted in pain when his head and back hit the cold ground. Apparently Kite’s knees weren’t as damaged as Yukimura thought, and were actually pretty functional, since one seemed to be cutting off his air supply by crushing his Adam’s apple.

Instead of flailing uselessly, Yukimura tried to hit the already damaged torso of his opponent, but the compromised position he was in now made it impossible. The pressure on his throat intensified and Yukimura couldn’t hold back the choking noises anymore. Sneaky little bastard. Reaching for his gun tucked in the back of his belt, Yukimura aimed it straight at Kite’s face but he didn’t press the trigger.

For a few excruciatingly long seconds, the only thing that could be heard was Kite’s labored breathing and the silence of Yukimura’s inability. They stared at each other with deadly glares and unspoken threats. This was like a chess match, it was about control and power over your opponent and it was Kite’s turn. If he decided on kicking the gun away, it would give Yukimura the opening to free himself of the chokehold and if he didn’t... well, he wouldn’t be able to keep that headlock when his brains lay splattered on the floor, now would he?

But, like in chess, there was a time limit and Yukimura hated waiting.

Yukimura cocked his gun and the next thing that was heard was Kite’s scream of pain, before he uselessly muffled it by biting his lips. Kite rolled over writhing with the agony of it, releasing Yukimura from his iron grip.

“That was very foolish of you,” Yukimura said, coldly despite being out of breath, as he stood up and looked down at the bleeding man at his feet. He wiped the blood off his face with the hem of one of his sleeves. It had been messy, and not to mention, dangerous, shooting Kite on the knee when it had been so close to his own face, but when you were in a business where empty threats got you killed, you never pulled out a gun, if you did not intend to use it. “Seems like I missed your face. Another stunt like this and I’ll make sure my aim is flawless.”

The door burst open and Sanada entered with a murderous look in his face and katana at the ready.

“This is not my blood.” Yukimura placed a firm hand on Sanada’s chest, successfully stopping him from slashing Kite in half. “I have this under control. We were just having a little conversation, comparing points of view on the matters that currently concern us. Isn’t that right, Kite?”

Sanada seemed beyond infuriated and alarmed at the sight of blood on Yukimura and looked like he was considering sacrificing a finger by disobeying, and killing the prisoner on the floor.

“Sanada, please bring one of the others,” Yukimura said, in order to prevent further spilling of blood. His voice was still raspy and out of breath, making Sanada even more tense and on the edge of murder.

“As you wish,” Sanada finally growled in reply, after some internal struggling, and he disappeared through the same door he had come from.

Yukimura reached for the forsaken chair in a corner and sat down, heavily, analyzing the bound man’s current position. Not so cocky now, were you Kite? Still, he was trying to get up even in his condition and Yukimura had to admit that his fighting spirit was indeed remarkable. Kite could be useful for Rikkai if he was wise enough to to accept the unavoidable. As Sanada re-entered the room manhandling a brunet prisoner, the head of the Rikkai Family stood up again with a sneer on his face.

The newcomer tried to wrestle his way out Sanada’s restricting hold, however useless that was. Sanada easily was a head taller than him, a lot broader and had been trained in martial arts practically since birth. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Kite! Are you alright?! What did they--!” The prisoner started crying out but the rest of his words turned into broken gasps for breath, as Sanada kneed him in the stomach, .

“Shut up scum,” Sanada hissed, and forced him forward. Kite stayed too still, probably sizing up what would be the best course of action. Yukimura smirked.

“I’m giving you the opportunity to grow under Rikkai’s shadow instead of erasing you from existence,” Yukimura said, as he casually wiped away the rest of the blood on his face and neck with a handkerchief. “The stupidity you committed in messing with Rikkai’s territory is usually punishable by death. I’m feeling gracious because I believe you might turn out to be useful, but I really don’t need any new men, Kite,” the leader continued, sounding almost annoyed as he pulled the newcomer by the hair to have a better look at him.

Yukimura sized him up, as he would do for an animal, before letting him go and turning his attention to Kite again. “You’re not indispensable and neither is he.”

“I will kill you if touch him! You’ll wish you’d never been born!” Kite’s yell resonated through the room, fighting uselessly against his ropes. Yukimura chuckled quietly.

“I hardly think you can do so in your current situation. I’ve yet to hear an answer for you, Kite...”

“No, Eish---!”

Yukimura smirked and nodded slightly, cueing Sanada to shove the brunette into a kneeling position on the floor. With Sanada’s katana barely an inch away from his neck, the young man thought better than to move to get to Kite, whose poker face was starting to falter.

“I don’t like people keeping me waiting,” Yukimura said softly, before taking his own gun out again and pointing it to the head of the young man. “One, two…”

“Yuujirou!”

“Three.” Yukimura looked straight at Kite’s eyes as he slowly pulled the trigger.

“No!”

Even bound and with a leg out of service, Kite lunged forward. Of course, it would not be enough to reach for the other to take him out of the way of the bullet. His leg failed and the restraints limited his movement, making him fall down to the floor. Kite watched in slow motion and with utmost horror as the bullet passed through his friend’s hair, leaving a bloody gash on his cheek, but nothing more.

“My aim seems to be a little lousy today, Sanada,” Yukimura said, with a mocking smirk etched on his face. Sanada snorted in return, as he took his sword away from the prisoner's neck. Terrified as he had been of looking death straight in the eye, the young man didn’t even dare to move a muscle; the look on his leader’s face had told him how close he had been to having his head blown apart.

“Bastard.” Kite seethed with an unveiled loathing so powerful, that Yukimura had to place a hand on Sanada’s shoulder to stop him from cutting him in half with his sword.

“Don’t push me, Kite. I’m being beyond gracious about this. Don’t make me take away my offer.” Yukimura's tone was deadly serious.

Kite had to know, by this point, that the only way out of submitting to Rikkai was death, and even though he could face it with a smirk on his face, that didn’t apply for the rest of his family. He nodded, without looking at Yukimura, and fixed his eyes on his friend instead. “Leave the others alone as well. I’m the one agreeing to this.”

“I can’t let them loose and on the run since I’m sure they came in with their eyes wide open, knowing perfectly what could happen to them if they were to mess with the wrong people. So I’m going to assume that you’re trying to say you prefer them alive. That is fixable, I think.” Yukimura turned to his second on command then. “Sanada, send Yagyuu and Niou to retrieve Akaya, make sure medical assistance is given to those who need it and take him away from there.”

Yukimura put a hand on the messy hair of the brunet prisoner, who snapped out of his shock and tried to get away. Holding back a sigh, Yukimura mused that his new acquaintances were quite troublesome and how tedious it would be before they were completely trained and loyal to Rikkai. “I still need to set the conditions and seal this loyalty agreement with our guest here.”

“I will make sure everything gets done as ordered, Yukimura-kumichou.” Came Sanada’s always firm and stoic voice. Sheathing his kanata first, Sanada manhandled the brunet prisoner back to his feet.

“Let me go! Kite!” He said, as he thrashed about, but he was no match for the right hand of one of the most powerful men of Japan’s underworld. “Kite!” His yells were heard until Yukimura had closed the door again.

There were business deals to be made.

“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Kite.” Walking to the lonely desk at the other side of the room, Yukimura opened one of its cabinets and pulled out a small first aid kit. “You made the right choice. Think of it like this, I could gladly leave you here for your leg to get infected to the point of amputation, but now that you’ve agreed to become one of us...”

Yukimura shoved Kite roughly face first to the floor again. As exhaustion was starting to take the best of him, manhandling him was definitely easier. Kneeling beside the other man, Rikkai’s kumichou brought the injured leg closer, so he could take a better look at it. Kite roughly pulled it away, hissing in pain. There was only so much stubbornness Yukimura could allow, though. He pulled out a knife from the strap around his right ankle and brought Kite’s leg close again, more roughly this time. He held it still so he could cut Kite’s pants off; the blood-soaked fabric ungracefully being torn off in order to clear the wound of the sticky cloth and prevent infection.

“I’ll show you that Rikkai takes care of its own.” Yukimura smirked at Kite’s debauched state; the red welts left by Sanada’s ropes on his tanned skin, the glasses completely askew and the hair that was no longer immaculately set due to Yukimura’s roughness.

Kite growled in pain as alcohol was poured directly over the wound followed by unglentle pressure of cotton cloth against the wound, to wipe off the worst of the blood. “Does it burn? I’m so sorry.” Yukimura said, with a smirk as he diligently worked the injury over.

“You’re such an asshol---argh! Fuck!”

Yukimura chuckled slightly as he pulled out the gauze from the hole that the gunshot had caused. “You need to start learning to behave if only in my presence, Kite. You owe me your life after all.”

Kite’s answer was lost in his nearly desperate gasps for breath, trying to avoid screaming from the unnecessary pain he was in.

“There, there. It’s clean now. We wouldn’t want it to become gangrenous and have to amputate it, right? When the horse breaks its leg...” Yukimura said sweetly, as he put the bloody clothes away and checked his work, before applying a bandage--tightly and firmly-- around the injured knee. Slowly, his hands sneaked around, roaming all over the well formed legs, a little more than was strictly necessary. Yes, amputation would be such a waste, really. Kite tensed under his touch. Yukimura’s smile turned predatory, as he pinned the other down to the dirty floor with his body.

With Kite’s face an inch from his own, Yukimura smirked and looked down at him; his stare fierce and burning. “No, not yet,” Yukimura whispered hotly into Kite’s ear. “When you’ve recovered, I think. I like my bitches on their knees...”

Yukimura moaned in pleasure and he threw his head back. This was so good. Kite just chuckled, amused.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“You know this is one of my weaknesses.” Yukimura opened his eyes lazily and licked his lips; his senses overwhelmed with secret, sinful pleasure.

“Châteua de St. Cosme, Gigonda 2010. The very best we got from that shipment we took last week. I reserved it for us,” Kite said as he poured some more champagne into the near empty cup Yukimura was holding.

“Well, it definitely suits our meeting today,” Yukimura said as he picked up a strawberry and bit down. Lively and generous on the palate, the flavors mixed in Yukimura's mouth, tearing another moan from his throat.

It seemed almost unreal that only one year ago Yukimura had been about to kill--with all the pleasure of a painful bloody death--the man that was sitting next to him. Now, they both were having such an amicable evening and was unthinkable for Yukimura to concieve spending it with someone else. This was their special time. Of course, it had been a long way for this.

Crushing Higa in one night hadn’t been difficult; it would been almost enjoyable if it weren’t for the downside sending Akaya to the hospital to be patched up after he fought against an opponent he wasn’t ready to defeat. Chinen turned out to be quite useful, later on, to control the endearingly crazy shitai, an action which gave Yanagi more than enough time to plot the downfall of Japan, without distraction from the little demon.

It hadn’t been easy, in the beginning. First of all, three important rules had to be enforced to assure success of the advantageous fusion of families. They were nice and simple: one, unwavering loyalty to Rikkai; two, no backstabbing the family; and three, never forget the first two rules unless you wished to suffer a very tortuous death. Still, it had taken them over two weeks to finally consummate the alliance with the sharing-sake ceremony.

Honestly. Kite was such a stubborn bastard.

From then on, it had been an endless compromise, in order to get the perfect balance and to get the union to work flawlessly. Once they solved their differences--apparently having Kite all tied up, needy and delirious with lust and desire and yet denied was all it took--they realized this could work for their best interests without unnecessary killing. They had been on the edge of murder a couple of times but mostly, everything had gone smoothly.

Granted, there had been a few missing phalanges on some gang members on boths sides from time to time, but most of them were pretty intact. That was a good record, actually.

“‘À bout a souffle’①, tonight?”

“Couldn’t have chosen better myself,” Yukimura said taking a sip of his wine when his cellphone rang. Sanada. For a moment, just for a very short one, Yukimura thought of not answering and just enjoying the soirèe. Yet, he couldn’t just ignore the voice of reason in his head. It usually sounded like Yanagi, and it was as persistent as he was. It was telling him that it had been long ago that Sanada had gotten over the tinted-by-jealousy worry over the meetings that occurred between him and Kite behind closed doors. Yukimura knew the voice was right, as always. With a sigh, he flipped the phone open and answered the call, ignoring Kite's mocking grin and making a mental note of making him pay for that later.

Yukimura’s face turned serious and any other man would have run for dear life at that deadly glare, but not Kite. The Hitman's face became thoughtful as he took an assertive guess at what was happening.

“Problems in Sector 3. Three women hurt and one man dead. Two establishments compromised,” Yukimura said to Kite after ending the call, the veiled order strong behind his words. Fix this. People within Rikkai’s territory were untouchable, and it was practically a sin to touch women, children and those unfourtunate that worked for the family. Kite’s glasses glinted in the dim light of the room as he nodded. He stood up and put his leather jacket on. Yukimura had insisted many times for him to carry weapons other than knives and his fists but he always refused, arguing that he didn’t need them.

“I’ll be back in three hours,” Kite said and Yukimura thought he was giving some margin to get them something for dinner. Kite was efficient, fast and deadly, he would only need a little over an hour to flawlessly do what was being asked of him.

“I won’t start the movie without you, promise,” Yukimura said, smirking slightly.

“That’s a fucking lie,” Kite snorted in reply. “You will. But then again you’ve already seen it at least a dozen times, it doesn’t make a difference.”

“Il a dit que vous êtes vraiment "une dégueulasse”", Yukimura whispered and as Kite came closer,grabbing him by the jacket and forcefully pulling him down for a kiss. Still, it wasn't a passionate kiss, just a soft ghostly touch of lips that promised a reward for a job well done.

“Qu'est ce que c'est "dégueulasse"②? Kite replied with a smirk of his own and they stayed like that for a couple of seconds, which felt like a compromised eternity. The feeling of the other’s breath on their lips, so close and so far away at the same time, was intoxicating. They pulled apart and Yukimura turned away, to take another sip of his champagne. Kite knew he was being dissmissed then, so he bowed slightly before turning around and leaving.

As he made his way out of his apartment to meet with his gang and exterminate what was troubling the adopted family he now served, Kite thought that maybe being Rikkai’s watchdog wasn’t that bad after all.