hanabi // okikagu

i // sadist's slip of tongue

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He hated her, damn.

Another punch landed on his jaw, followed by a kick to his abdomen making blood ooze out of his mouth, "Is that all you weaklings have got?" His lips curled into his signature creepy, sadistic smile. He desired more pain tonight.

Those eyes, he hated them so goddamn
much.

He didn't know what he was doing, he was not a masochist but he was very drunk. He was triggering random drunkards, instigating them to beat him up. Such was his desire to harm himself tonight. Another fist, another kick. More blood, more pain.

Oh god, he hated that smile so much.

"Dammit, losers. Is that all? I can't even feel your punches." He spewed mockingly. Everything was spinning around. He was intoxicated, his breath reeked of alcohol.

And he hated that voice.

Another punch threw him flat on the ground. He stared at the dark night sky, his vision was blurry. He hated her. He hated her eyes, because it was all he could see now. He hated her smile, because it was he wanted to see now. He hated her voice. Because lately it was all he could hear. It disgusted him.

"Stop that!" and there it was again. That annoying voice. And then he could hear the sound of things being thrown and people screaming.

The sight of her umbrella blocked his vision. His eyes scanned the canopy of her umbrella, and there she was. Looking at him in confusion, there were questions swirling around in her eyes.

"Didn't expect to see your fugly face, China." He said, stoic as ever.

"You damned sadist. Just what do you think you're doing getting beaten up like that!" She yelled like she always would, there was over protectiveness lacing her tone.

It reminded him of his sister. But it was entirely different at the same time.

"Get lost, China girl. I've already had enough of your face today." He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Let's go." She sighed.

His eyes twitched, "What? Why must I go with you?"

"You're bruised, bleeding to your death, drunk and about to pass out. What do you expect me to do?"

A good chance to kill me, he thought.

"Let's hurry, a heavy storm is about to hit soon. My umbrella won't be able to hold." She said and he looked away, not budging from his position on the ground.

And then, her delicate fingers ran through his silk ribbon hair, her breathing pattern alone was calming, "If you don't stand up, I'll carry you, moron."

"Fine." He jerked his body up. She firmly held his hand, looping it around her shoulder.

What was this, he thought, this little nuisance. He didn't need her sympathies. It boiled his blood when she did that but tonight he was weak to her touch.

His red eyes did not leave her, they were transfixed. Her shoulder, her neck. From the softness, to the fragrance of her hair. Damn, he wanted to kill her.

"It's an abandoned area, there are not many buildings here. Good thing that I saw an abandoned hut around here somewhere. And you're also lucky I was here running errands this late at night or you would've been beaten to a pulp." She spoke, he just hummed in return, his head buried into her neck.

When the first few drops of rain fell, fortunately, they had had reached the hut. Kagura threw the door open, and then helped him down. He again lay motionless in the floor. Closing the door, she quickly lit fire in the old fireplace. He had almost forgotten in her presence how cold it was.

"Now let me see your wounds." She frowned.

"Go away. I don't need your help." He closed his eyes.

She used her strength to tear a piece of cloth lying around.  Angrily, she pulled him up and rinsed the wounds on his arm with the water in a bowl by her side.

She wiped blood off of his face, her eyes glimmered in the light of the cackling fire and they were piercing right into his.

He was shocked by their sudden proximity, but was too dizzy to complain.

"Why?" He heard her whisper along the quiet sound of the cackling fire, "Why were you trying to harm yourself?"

"I was annoyed." He stated.

"What made you so upset?" She asked before gasping, "Were you rejected? Wait, no. Sadists like you don't have feelings, pfft."

"China. Don't act like you know me all that well."

"You, don't joke around saying such stupid things. You can't possibly have emotions such as love in you." she pouted narcissistically.

Sheesh, she acted like she could read him like an open book.

"I do have feelings. I'm in love with a girl." He said in the spur of the moment. Only to regret it upon seeing Kagura's hand busy with cleaning his wound pause abruptly.

What was said could not be reversed. He decided to continue his indirect confession.

"I love her so much – it disgusts me. Love is not for lunatics, people who don't know how to feel. I hate myself for feeling like this. She - that bitch makes me feel so weak, I hate it."

Kagura felt her heart drop.

"How's she like?" She looked down, pursing her lips. Her lips quivered, driving him to his limits.

"Different. Unrelenting. She's a fight." He said, and then he boldly took his shirt off, revealing more wounds to be healed.

Kagura hesitated, before finally tracing her fingers along the bumps of his chiseled abs, sending shivers down his spine. He hissed, such a tease.

"If you're afraid she wouldn't be able to handle a deranged person like you- you really do underestimate girls and their dedication." She wrapped the cloth around his chest, "And knowing she's a fight then, I don't recall you as the type to lose."

His eyes widened, then he averted his gaze. She was so tiny, like a little porcelain doll. And the way she had positioned herself between his legs to reach him wasn't helping either.

Quietly, she took his hand and pressed her lips against his hand draped in bandages, suddenly making him want to keep the wound this way forever.

"What would you do, China?" he whispered into her ear, "If it was you."

Her heart stopped.

Not even a moment had passed that their lips collided and suddenly they were fighting for dominance.

And that was it. He was obviously holding back till now. But his intoxicated state of mind, the dimly lit room, the pouring rain, her flushed cheeks, her chest falling and rising with every breath she took and her legs unknowingly straddled around his waist. He couldn't stop himself anymore, not even for his life could he suppress this urge. He wanted her.

His eyes brimmed with lust. And suddenly he was on top of her. He was back, In his super sadist mode, a drunk, wounded, shirtless manslayer with an overwhelming drive.

"Would you mind if this deranged sadist had a glimpse of your dedication?" He whispered into her ear with a sly smirk.