by Rina K. Fenderson
7. Sides
The boy was laying innocently on the high post bed, body shifted to the side at his waist, his legs curled up slightly to his body, peeking pale skin through the loose fitting yukata. His head rested to one side, blond tresses flowing into his closed eyes, where his dark lashes rested against pale cheeks, and black leather wrapped around his mouth. His hands were stretched up above him, the thick strips of shining black leather tying his wrists together and to the head bar, his temple rested against one tethered arm.
Oriya observed him for several minutes, while Muraki walked calmly back and forth to monitor the various machines littering the wide room, adjectent to the one whose threshold Oriya was standing. Muraki was intelligent to buy into an abandoned building and convert the large basement into his own private laboratory, but to have renovated as well a single bedroom... "Muraki-kun, you have been planning this for a while, havn�t you?" Oriya asked, abandoning the doorway, but leaving the door ajar. Muraki glanced up and turned, file folders and a clipboard in his hands. Oriya smiled; for once Muraki did, indeed, look like a doctor, rather than an intelligent scientist with a vendetta. Just as well, Oriya was not dressed in his usual attire for his working �inn�, but in loose fitting jeans and a black tee shirt; his black trenchcoat had been shed earlier when he entered the laboratory. "I always have things planned well in advance, Oriya," Muraki replied, turning back to the humming machine before him and jotting down a few more notes. "I am always in control." They didn�t see the twitch in Hisoka�s jaw, the grinding of his teeth against the leather muting his voice, but soon the boy�s eyes were flashing open and scared; his body in full recovery from the drug, he thrashed about as he realized what had happened and who had him captive. Oriya blinked and let his eyes glance over his shoulder to see the lithe body pitching and the muffled cries of his screaming. "Muraki-kun, is it not possible for you to merely kill the boy?" "It is possible." Oriya stepped into the threhold again, a hand to the wooden frame. Hisoka paused panting as he stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at either Oriya or Muraki, whom was now waiting beside Oriya, silver eyes on the boy. Hisoka was on his back, his arms pulled taunt against the leather, trying to wriggle out of the cuffs, without using much strength. A sheen of persperation was already appearing on his forehead and his chest heaved in panicked and weary breath. Running his fingers through his long dark hair, Oriya frowned. "Don�t you think it would be wiser to do so...rather than whatever else you have planned?" Muraki�s silver eyes flickered over to Oriya in apathy. "Why do you say such?" "The male he was with earlier...he will come for the boy. Can you defeat them both?" "Oriya, save your worrying for something worthy or in need of it," Muraki countered, slipping by him and pacing over to the bedside. Hisoka�s emerald eyes widened and he began his thrashing once again; he froze in absolute fear when Muraki placed a hand on his stomach, fingers spread across the leaned muscled expance to restrain his movement. The panting began to beat at a faster pace, proving the fear Muraki envoked in the charge straped to his bed. "As you see these are my toys. They know who to fear." "But you were badly injured last time...I thought you were dead," Oriya claimed, taking one step into the room. "Muraki-kun, you as well thought that would be your last battle..." "I assumed to win the battle then destory myself," Muraki admitted, his fingers tracing the muscled on Hisoka�s shaking body; tears were slipping from the boy emerald eyes. Muraki let his hand flutter through the boy�s blond hair and smiled. "They were stronger than I assumed, but this time I will not be take surprise by their will." "Muraki-kun...I have a feeling this will be difficult, if you don�t end his life now," Oriya claimed, watching Muraki administered his gentle attention to the trembling prisoner. Hisoka�s held fell back, his neck arching gracefully as Muraki�s hand brushed over his stomach again, this time to his bare skin, beneath the cotton yukata. Tears slipped over his temples, dampening his blond locks. Oriya�s eyes fixed on the boy, staring at his movements with the same tranfixed awe as Muraki, who held a small smile on his lips. "Beautiful little toy, isn�t he?" "He�s got an amazing will, too," Oriya replied, remembering the boy�s determination during their last meeting. "I would be a shame to destroy such a spirit, however I do believe it would be in your favor to--" "He will be harmless when broken, Oriya," Muraki replied, lifting his hand from Hisoka�s body and walking from the bed, passing Oriya as he exited the room. Oriya cast one final look at Hisoka, whose eyes were again trained to the ceiling, his breathing uneven gasps pulled in through his nose, then followed Muraki out into the laboratory. "I will meet you tomorrow for lunch at your inn, for now I need to concentrate on my research..." "Muraki, I still don�t think keeping him alive is the best option." "I will ask you to leave, Oriya. I need to concentrate on my project." Oriya frowned, dispelling the urge to glance over his shoulder and see if Hisoka knew the implication behind that comment. He counted not words to Muraki as he pulled his coat from the hook by the door and nodded to Muraki. "I will see you tomorrow, Muraki-kun. Take care." "Good day, Oriya."