Samurai Flamenco (Nightbreed) - Gifts & Curses [11] [Gotoyoshi]

[scriveyner]

Title: gifts & curses [11]
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Nightbreed
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi, Keiko, Masanori
Rating: T
Length: 1255
Summary: He dreamed of craggy mountains.



He dreamed of craggy mountains in the distance, snow-topped, jagged teeth that cut into sky and left the sunlight fractured, casting long shadows across the land. He dreamed of lush green forests, verdant meadows filled with wildflowers, and rivers run cold with the melted snow. He was free here, in a way he didn’t understand, the sun dazzlingly bright in the sky, glittering across the water, caught on the grass and the leaves.

He didn’t want to leave.

Masayoshi opened his eyes slowly. He felt like he was a million years old, every muscle and joint in his body ached, and there was the faint yet distinct coppery residue in his mouth. The ceiling was unfamiliar, tiled and cracked - and his eyes adjusted slowly to the dimness of the room. The blinds had been drawn, but around their edges crept in daylight, bright and unforgiving.

Sitting up was a bad idea, but Masayoshi did it anyway, flinching slightly at the way the room wobbled but fighting the nausea. He didn’t know where he was - and as he rubbed his hands over his face he realized with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was naked. Masayoshi’s hand flattened, smacked himself in the chest but the chain was gone too, that familiar weight he had worn for years, silver chain and silver ring - he was completely naked.

That was enough impetuous to get him out of the bed, staggering as he surged to his feet. He couldn’t remember much but he didn’t let that bother him, he would deal with missing memories later, first he had to find out where he was, why he was naked - why someone would take his ring, his proof …

Masayoshi made it three steps before his legs gave out. He ended up on his knees on the plush carpet, hands curled into fists under him as he stared at the geometric pattern it contained. He was weak, and starving, the hunger carving a place for itself in his gut in a way that almost frightened him.

Pushing himself to stand again was easy, making it to the far wall, where a dresser sat with an ancient television stared blankly at him, well that was another matter. Masayoshi sat down on the bed again and heaved a deep breath, felt it burn in his lungs, thought about the bitter cold scent of early spring in the mountains, the taste of boar as he tore its throat out, familiar golden eyes watching him with barely-shielded concern….

The door to the room clicked open and Masayoshi looked up sharply, hands gripping the edge of the bed.

“Ah,” a slightly-familiar voice said. “You’re awake.”

Masayoshi stared at the dark-haired person, somewhat familiar and not as he closed the door behind him. He regarded Masayoshi cautiously, as one might a wild animal - and he carried a change of clothes over his arms. “You’re safe,” he said slowly, back to the door, and Masayoshi realized that he was growling softly. He covered his mouth with one hand, startled.

“Sorry,” he said, and was stunned by how low and rough his voice sounded.

“You’ve had a busy evening,” the dark-haired man said, setting the clothing down carefully, eyes never leaving Masayoshi. “Very busy. Do you know who you are?”

“Of course I do,” Masayoshi retorted sharply He hesitated as the last syllable faded, and realized that the other man was still watching him, concerned. “Who are you?”

And what happened to…? The names were gone, fleeting - he had faces though, and a fierce drive to protect, to defend - my cubs, mine - Masayoshi licked his parched lips, stared at the man who looked at him so familiarly, but wasn’t the dark hair he knew, the eyes weren’t right, this was more boy than man, it wasn’t him….

“You don’t remember.” He was leaning against the dresser now, arms crossed as he regarded Masayoshi. “No matter, I’m sure it’ll come back in time. You’ve only been awake a little while.” He glanced at the blinds, at the sunlight, and Masayoshi saw his pupils shrink, the small shudder that worked its way up his slight frame, saw the dislike, no, hatred of the brightness that was seeping around the heavy blinds.

Masayoshi inhaled, found the scent of blood in the air, same as in his mouth. “You’re not one of them,” he said, unsure of who he meant by the words.

The boy-man-thing cocked his head and the strangest expression crossed his face. “I’m not,” he said.

“You’re a friend.”

He straightened, tucked his hands into the front pockets of his trousers, head cocked to the side. “You can tell that much, then,” he said with a smile. “I’ll bring you some food, Hazama-san, so you should rest.”

Food. “Meat,” Masayoshi said hungrily, and he nodded

“Yes,” the dark haired not-stranger said, with a strangely sharp smile. “Meat.”

#

Gotou found them in morning, hidden away under a slide in a park. Masanori was still in his wolf-form, curled around Keiko protectively, eyes closed in an exhausted sleep. Keiko was sitting up in human form, clothes dirty and torn, a makeshift bandage wrapped around her leg where she had been bitten, Masayoshi’s cell phone hugged tight to her chest, head tilted forward, dozing.

“Keiko,” Gotou said softly, hand reaching out - and she transformed just that quickly, large and snarling and not quite awake, going for his arm like a dog to an offered toy. Gotou winced as jaws strong enough to shatter bone snapped tight around his arm, teeth pressing into his skin but not enough to penetrate. “It’s me,” Gotou said, keeping the pain out of his voice, the anger and the exhaustion all mixing silently - and after a moment Keiko released him and was a girl again, naked, wide-eyed and terrified an Gotou remembered that for all her bravado she was still a child. They both were.

“It’s okay,” he said as she pressed her face into his chest. He put his arms around her soothingly, rubbed her back and looked at Masanori, who had raised his head, ears back, but hadn’t changed himself. “It’s okay,” he murmured, thinking of the frantic, incoherent phone call he received as he stepped onto the train platform. He stared at Masayoshi’s cell phone, and at the other item Keiko had dropped, a silver chain with a ring on it, and felt his veins go to ice. “Keiko, what happened?”

“He changed,” Masanori said, naked and kneeling in the dirt. “To protect us, he, he-”

Gotou opened his arm numbly and Masanori tucked himself under it as well, both children pressed to him, shaking, and Gotou did his best not to shake with them as the morning sun glinted off the chain lying in the dirt.