FicWad

His calculations are, as usual, perfect. It comes down to this. This room, dark but for the light of glowing screens. Him. Fudou Takuma. The next few minutes have already been predicted. It's distasteful, he has to admit, but the end result will be worth it. The path that was most likely to lead to his success requires this, and he's willing to make the necessary sacrifices.

Fudou is a tool, after all, and he isn't above using his tools however he has to for the sake of his goals. And his own body is just another tool, one whose very existence is dubious, at best. Does really matter what he does with it, as long as the plan proceeds smoothly?

Fudou moves towards him, silent as any predator, and grips his shoulder. He permits this, though he has never been fond of being touched, and he will be less so shortly.

"Midou. I want Midou." Predictable as always, moreso than the others he has to deal with. It makes things easier.

"He'll be here soon." His voice is carefully neutral, giving nothing away.

"My desire... My desire is for Midou Ban, for his body broken at my feet. His blood on my hands. What can you do to soothe it? It itches, it burns me, this desire to kill him. What can you do? ...What will you do?" The hand on his shoulder has turned him roughly, and the words are growled into his face. He allows himself to flinch slightly.

Anything I have to, he thinks, but that isn't the answer Fudou wants. "I... I don't understand what you mean." Perfect picture of the logical façade cracking just a little, showing fear that has a bit more reality to it than he'd like, but he will use what he has available. This just makes the illusion better.

"In just two seconds, you will." If there was ever any doubt that Fudou was insane, his smile erases it completely. One blue eye stares at him, too close, and he feels a childish desire to push the larger man away, to run, to find some way that doesn't involve... this. And then Fudou's mouth on his, and he's being pushed down onto the floor. He has committed himself to this path, and now he'll pay the price demanded.

He's never been kissed before, but he knows that most kisses are not like this. The kiss has nothing to do with affection, and everything to do with breaking him down, claiming him as property. Logic tells him that this is necessary, yet his stomach still heaves, and he has to fight the urge to be sick.

He's thinking about this too much. Thought is not required, only compliance. He closes his eyes and lets himself be kissed. Lines of code scroll behind his eyelids, almost enough to block out the hands of flesh and metal that tear at his clothes.

He is naked now. There is a hand on his chest, metal underneath the glove, and he knows it will leave a bruise. Fudou's mouth leaves his, and he hears the man spitting into his other palm. He knows that's insufficient lubrication. He's done his research. But that brings him closer to awareness of what's happening. Don't think, he tells himself. He will focus on describing the texture of stone in language Mugenjou's virtual reality will understand, coding strong walls and moats and defenses, and maybe that will be distraction enough.

It isn't. He knows there will be pain, but the reality of it makes his eyes fly open in shock, a scream caught like a trapped butterfly in his throat, fluttering and pulsing and finally escaping in a high, despairing wail. That can't be his voice screaming like that, can it? But logic dictates it must be, because there is no one there but himself and Fudou, and Fudou... Is not screaming.

Fudou is looking down at him and grinning savagely, that single blue eye ablaze, and he is mumbling things about Midou Ban and thrusting and oh oh oh it hurts and the screaming is only urging Fudou on, but he can't seem to stop.

His scream is finally cut short by a metal hand clamping around his throat. He hopes for unconsciousness, despite knowing that there's only a slight chance that Fudou will keep choking him until he passes out. The tempo of Fudou's thrusts has been increasing rapidly. It will be over soon, likely before the air in his lungs runs out.

He's correct, as usual. A few moments later, Fudou moves away, leaving him to his pain. The price has been paid. Fudou will stay, will cooperate, if only for another chance at him before Midou-san appears. He will not have that chance, but by the time that becomes obvious, everything will be in place, and the promise of Midou Ban will be enough.

He starts to gather the remnants of his clothing, but moving reminds him that his body is real enough to hurt, at least, and he abandons the idea. Sakura will be by to check on him soon. She'll know what to do to help him. She always does. He curls on the floor and closes his eyes again, intending to wait until she appears. The code that distracted him earlier is beyond retrieval, but another image takes its place, making him forget the pain for a moment.

In the darkness behind his eyelids, the explosion begins, obliterating everything, and it is then that he remembers: fire purifies.

Fire purifies.