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Mortal Wound

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It should have been the end but it wasn't. Izumi should have died and yet, he had lived. The monster brother of the Nanjo family hadn't caused Izumi's destruction, he had instead created Izumi's despair.


All the pain, the hatred and the agonized struggle in Kouji's pursuit of him, had all been made irrelevant. Izumi sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, his eyes wide but unseeing.


Everything had been blown apart.


“I told you, if we do it, we're through!”


Izumi trembled, he was beyond tears. Beyond anything but blind self loathing.


“Izumi! Take care of yourself, you're special, you know!”


His sister's voice rattled in his head, 'special'. Like the other thousands who held his condition, a special freak in a world that enjoyed condoning freakishness. Laws and rules to make it seem like his life wasn't owned when it was. If he were ever to...if he were ever to went without saying. His career in Soccer was over.


“If you wait for me, then I'll consider it,” his own voice echoed in his head.


Izumi,” Kouji's voice low and sweet.


“If you can hold yourself accountable for your actions, then your love is true,” all said as Kouji had hung over him like a man possessed.


With his body broken and choice ripped away from him, he knew what Kouji must have felt like. He could look at his long fingers, stained by the blood his mother shed for him and he could understand. Their mutual misery and their inevitable destruction was undoubtedly his fault.


“The doctors said that he has to be careful, only his body can have the most perfect -”


Izumi choked, the voices of the orphanage pounding his head – keep him separate, make sure he's safe, you can't trust them, don't trust anyone Izumi or anyone that wants to take you to a strange place- his mouth opened with a soundless scream. He had ignored their advice; he wanted to be the one to look after his brother and sister himself. He had hidden his condition from everyone possible, only his coach knew; his records sealed as it was his right. There would be no issues unless he -




He had been flat on his back Kouji's hands in his hair; his name whispered like a sacrament, a religious ceremony, an end to agony.




Glass was everywhere, the bastard had driven them both to the peak of insanity. And now Kouji was desperate with unspent passion, threatening Izumi with his body. With one encounter his future in soccer could all be wiped away.


“Izumi, I love you,” Kouji's harsh whispers in his ear.


“Then show me,” he had challenged.


Actions spoke louder than words. Words louder than any action and the words spoken had been uttered as Izumi had faced his greatest fear.


“If I don't make it in soccer, or if something happens then maybe..,” he'd bargained.


“No, Izumi,” Kouji had said.


A word spoken out of a sigh. Izumi's wrists had been hurting, his arms pinned down. Desperately he had scrambled for a response, the devil in front of him as real as any of Faust's demons clawing from Hell to his throat. His mouth had been dry, he had licked his lips.


“I can only play for so long. Soccer players don't last forever. If you love me, wait for me.”


...wait for me.


It had soothed the savage beast, his desperate struggle. Though he hadn't rid himself of Kouji, he had delayed what he felt was an inevitable event. He had fought against Kouji both physically and mentally; Kouji's irritating habits, the ability he had to find his way into Izumi's thoughts, his heart, and even to his horror, his lust.


“The day you're finished with soccer, I will have you Izumi,” Kouji's burning promise, sealed with a smouldering kiss.


Having. Izumi had never understood until this day. Sex. Rape. It had all been the same to him, whatever you did took away your choice and in his condition, with his revolting ability given to him at birth-


“There are only a few hundred born every year on this planet, you should feel very lucky!”


His hand clenched in his hair, pulling. Wanting to tear.


“Do you know why you were born? To give humanity a second chance. I can't impress upon you enough the importance of that role.”


A thousand years of war, a thousand more years of vicious cruelty, despair, the human race polluting itself until only suffering was left. It was a bad memory another thousand years later, but vestiges remained. Vestiges like himself, and the others like him, genetic freaks who gave birth to children with undamaged DNA.


“You are the answer to the problem mankind created for itself, Takuto Izumi. Please keep this in mind.”


The birthrate for humans fluctuated wildly from year to year; birth defects, mothers with nothing but stillborn babies going insane and killing themselves, mutations that meant agony or death for a child before it even knew it had been born.


“The biological weapons used in the past are only a memory, but the effects are still felt today.”


The effect of his pain, his mother's pain, the pain he felt after what had been done to him. Kouji's pain, spun into Izumi's hatred and guilt.


“Anyone can be born with this condition, rich or poor, male or female, and with the new laws their preservation is assured.”


Preservation to be used without choices, with the simple condition that if-


“But if you wish to remain a virgin, then it will be acceptable for you to pursue a career. Consider your choices carefully, Izumi. You're an orphan without many options, this may be the only comfortable life available.”


He'd punched the doctor right in the face. He would be the one to choose his destiny! Not a committee, not even the old women at the orphanage that hovered over him, their fussing an extension of their perceived inadequacy.


“You're all disgusting!”


His body convulsed, blood drips falling through his fingers, he was revolted by everything. Especially himself.


“No one's going to choose but me!”


He'd played and he'd fought, like any normal boy. And with each kick of the soccer ball he knew he'd get closer. He'd win someday, and show them who was boss. Childish pursuits, they beget childish things.


“Why are you doing this?” he'd asked, while his rapist hovering over him, the sound of another man laughing.


“That's an interesting question. What I'm doing is hurting Kouji, through the only thing Kouji holds dear. And you are a thing, Takuto, a tool for those around you to use. I just happened to get here before the others did, and now I'll-”


Someone is holding his hands, calling his name, and his body can't move. His head can't pull itself up to face whatever new threat has appeared.


Izumi. I love you.”


He raises his head and sees the root of a primal scream. Kouji Nanjo's eyes are swimming with sadness; his hair is disheveled, his mouth thinned to a line waiting to split and shout Takuto's name.


Kouji had tried to comfort him, a soft touch on his hand. He hauled his hand upwards, his body spun helplessly away.


“Leave me alone!”


“Izumi! Tell me what happened,” Kouji begging him, “Who did this?”


Choking on truth, painful despair.


“I did it,” Izumi cried, “I did it to myself!”


The bathrobe slid open exposing the bites, the bruises, submissive marks born from hatred.


“Izumi!” Kouji screamed, his voice banging through their apartment echoing off the high ceilings, “Tell me.”


Izumi's chest heaved, his head swam.


“I only wanted you,” Izumi said, his voice dying, “To make me feel like this.”


Tears. They were running down his face and dripping into the scratches across his chest, his mortal wounds. The robe slid off his shoulders dropping at his feet, exposing himself. Kouji looked like a starving man, a sadistic cannibal waiting for his next victim.


But Kouji hesitated. Kouji, don't leave me!


“Kouji,” the words mouthed, barely uttered, “save me.”


Wrist grabbed and arms wrenched. Mouth to pained, gasping mouth. Izumi wondered if he'd be devoured, if his flesh would be consumed by Kouji's desirous inferno.


Body flung on the bed, legs spread. This was sex, this was taking what never should have been given. Kouji biting his mouth, biting his neck, marking his body.


His head thrown back, his world shrunk to the feeling inside of him and the creak of the bed.


Kouji. Kouji. Kouji...




This was the real injury, Kouji fucking him the way he was meant to be fucked. Like the most depraved beast, like an animal. All of Izumi's monstrous fears were replaced by raw emotions, his fingers entwining in Kouji's as he strained.


Izumi widened his legs.


Let him do it, let him come so deep inside you with the fire of his passions that it burns away everything else...


“Hurt me, Kouji,” he whispered, “please...”


“No,” Kouji panted, “Don't you understand? I'm saving you!”


He felt it, Izumi could feel the fluid shoot inside of him and hear Kouji's gasps. It would be over, all of it in a matter of minutes. Izumi struggled, he writhed to get away from him. But Kouji had pinned him down.


“Do you think I'm going to let you go?” his eyes were like the eyes of a demon, “that you're done with me after this one thing? I'm going to fuck you-”


Izumi's body was twitching. He wanted to hear it again and again, the painful barriers breaking down. His eyes were wide, they felt blown apart. If he could only pretend it was the drug Kouji's brother had given him. But that was a lie.


He was disgusting all on his own, a whore made for raping. He tore the blanket in his hands, twisting it in a tight grip.


“-until your world is nothing,” Kouji hissed in his ear, “nothing but me.”


He was surprised to realize he was hard, he wanted it. Kouji was hard again too. He pierced him and mixed his seed deeper inside.


“It's good isn't it,” Kouji purred, “Because I love you, it's good.”


It was good because of the pain. He was being ripped apart inside and out, he screamed from pleasure and insanity. His hands were twisted so tight around the sheets as he felt his shameful body's arousal, the thrusts painful but wonderful, the feeling of being filled and fucked the best sensation he had ever experienced in his life.


He didn't care if he died from the pleasure, as saliva spilled from the corner of his mouth. Even as he felt his mind breaking.


All the fighting and desperation means nothing now...




Kouji's thrusts were hard and deep inside, places that had never been touched before. Izumi came from the pain.


I love you.”


The room looked like it had gone through a battle. Lamps had been knocked over, books hurled on the floor. Every single item was in disarray. The bed was a mess of sheets and used tissues and crumpled blankets. They laid side by side, the smell of tobacco lingered in the air.


“It's my child, now,” Kouji said.


“There might not be a child.”


Izumi's own voice dead in his ears. His throat hurt, everything was raw.


“There is,” Kouji's body heavy over his, “I know there is.”


Another bruising kiss. Izumi's body is covered in them, deeper and darker than the ones Kouji's brother had left on him.


“If there wasn't before, there is now,” Kouji said.




“Let me take care of you, Takuto.”


It stings hearing his own name slip off that bastard's tongue. He's angry and injured, fully aware of the rage building in his chest but he can't help but feel pity for someone as twisted up as Kouji Nanjou. It's his fault, every single horrible thing that happened since they met. But still...none the less...despite all these things...


“I don't know anything about the future,” he admitted.


“I'll make it up for you,” Kouji insisted.


It was a gentle kiss that healed his wounds and sealed his bruises. It was enough to stop the hemorrhaging in his chest, from the hole where his heart used to be that was stabbed out so many years ago.


“Let me try,” Kouji said.


The bleeding had stopped for now.