Beauty and the Beast (DRAMAtical Murder fanfic) (Boyxboy)

Chapter 3

I took my time about it.

I waited until he'd been dressed and fed the next morning before finally allowing him to see me. My appearance was changed from last night, as this was my own domain. I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, simply relaxing against my pile of cushions as I watched him. He was seated not too far away from me, a small table in front of him with tea upon it. So far, he simply seemed to just be taking it all in. I suppose it's only expected.

It's rare to get to see a kitsune up close in this age.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As much as I hated to admit it, this yokai, this kitsune... He was beautiful in a way that seemed to defy reason, like how one would expect a god to appear. His hair, fairly short in length, was a deep black that seemed to reflect the color of whatever he wore just slightly. I studied his face, since he'd had a mask on last night. His eyes were a steely grey, and though he seemed impassive, they showed an almost regal curiosity. His face was quite handsomely proportioned. It had been hard to believe when he'd said he was a kitsune last night, but the ears that looked satin in the light proved otherwise.

His kimono today wasn't as plain, yet also didn't seem as gaudy as last night's. He seemed tired, probably since his rest was disturbed last night. I find myself sympathizing with his situation, and quickly put a stop to it. To my surprise, he's the one who breaks the silence, rather than myself. His voice is powerful, but in a gentled way.

"You're better off simply accepting your fate than fighting it. Fighting brings pain to oneself. If you enjoy the company of those twins so much, I may attempt to persuade Lord Raien to let you have opportunities to see them, but it would change nothing. You cannot escape, for the only escape here is death. A sad thought."

"Why am I here?"

"You were given to me as gift from Lord Raien. As for what you're to do, that remains to be seen. The only thing I have any need for is a bed slave, which you qualify for, but I don't know what kind of man you are. Therefore I reserve my judgement just yet."

"That's what you use human's for? Sex?"

"Not usually. Very few humans have the right qualities to fit the position, and even then they have to be the right fit for their master. We usually have humans do labor, such as make our clothes or clean."

"So you're waiting to see what kind of person I am? That seems pretentious."

"Perhaps. Unlike the others, you're the only one to have gained my interest in, well..... My lifetime."

I stare at him almost awkwardly. How many humans has he seen that were suitable to be toys for them? Since he's a yokai, there's no telling how long he's been alive. Centuries, millennia? Yet I'm the only human to have ever been appealing to him? That doesn't seem right...

"Why don't you just have sex with your own kind?"

"Yokai have no sense of, to put it simply, 'love' for one another. We simply do not feel enough to fill the void. Humans, on the other hand, have so many emotions, and are so vivid in comparison. Put together with the fact that they are able to adapt to us, they're the best choice. Yokai relations are for breeding, human relations are for companionship."

"Yet we're still slaves."

"That is a difficult topic.... Those against humanity enforced the term 'bed slaves'. You are slaves to the world, but also our equal."

"That doesn't make any sense..!"

He pauses for a long moment as if reevaluating his statement, speaking once again only after he's ready.

"You are to bend to our will, but in exchange we give you things we keep close. Our bodies, our hearts, our blood..."

"Why the hell would we want any of that?!"

Despite my anger, he continues to look at me calmly. He closes his eyes briefly before opening them and speaking once more in a very gentle tone.

"Humans chase immortality. Our blood lengthens human lives if given willingly. Our blood consumes humans if taken forcibly. Perhaps you care not for our bodies and feelings, but even so, we are beings of cognitive thought. Even monsters need something to cling to, even if it's a lie."

I can't bring myself to respond. In that moment, he'd seemed saddened, as if remembering something. Yet even that was consumed by the calm tranquility of of his expression once he was finished speaking. We sit in an awkward silence. Neither of us attempts to break it for some time, his eyes closing languidly.

"Your name was Koujaku?"

"Yes.."

"I see... What is it that plagues you?"

"... What are you talking about?"

"I'm a kitsune who has lived for many millennia. I see things others do not. In you, I see a deep grief. A grief that stems beyond that of a fallen family member."

"What's it matter to you?"

"I am not unfamiliar with grief's ways. I do not wish to see those weaker than I suffer. I mean no offense, but put bluntly, you wield a blade and I am a monster."

"I find it hard to believe you yokai could even begin to understand."

His gaze seems to harden somewhat, and he suddenly becomes cold. At the simple flick of his ear, two masked people lift me by the arms and drag me back to the room I was in before. The room I was given last night.

I don't understand what happened, nor do I care to. I'm simply irritated, and I only feel more and more questions bubbling up as time passes.

Yokai are monsters. Monsters do not feel. That is all.