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fic_promptly's Author’s Choice, Author’s Choice, S/He wasn‘t treacherous, but their other personality was Oriya/Muraki, references to energy vampirism.
Oriya had known the pale man who lay sleeping on his futon for too long, to see him, or at least a part of him, as anyone other than Kazutaka, the pale, spindly young man he'd met on his first day at Shion University's affiliated high school. No matter what crimes were committed by this creature that his friend had become, he still saw a flicker of the shy, bookish youth he'd known, the kid who could barely defend himself against the bullying students who bedeviled him. the kid whom he'd had to teach how to fight, the kid whose half-brother had destroyed his family then tried to kill him.
Somewhere in that blast furnace of pain and tragedy, another aspect had been forged, another persona lurking in the shadows of Kazutaka's mind and soul. On that fateful night, when Kazutaka had lost his eye, it was then that the other persona emerged, the more dangerous one, the beast born of pain and fear, the half of this whole who wished to be the one maiming and killing and spreading fear, because he had been maimed and wounded in soul and harmed in body. Now it would be his turn to cause the fear and the pain.
His companion, his friend and lover, turned over onto his back, the moonlight from the window pooling in silver on his smooth-skinned chest, his hair, the same silvery color as the moonlight, tumbled over his delicate face. In sleep and in the moonlight, he looked younger, more frail, like the young man he had been. Like Kazutaka. The one who killed, the one who forgot his oath to use his gifts and skills to do no harm, the one who fed on the strength and the pain of the living, that one was Muraki. When the other's eyes were open, Oriya could not help but think that the remaining eye of flesh, however cold or detached its expression, was Kazutaka's eye, while the cold eye of acrylic plastic that filled the empty socket was Muraki's eye. The former sometimes showed a hint of Kazutaka's gentleness, particularly when Ukyou was with him. But the latter remained perpetually cold and impassively dangerous, much as the side of him that cared not for the lives of the humans around him.
Oriya did not fear this side of his friend: if anything, no matter what form he took and no matter what schemes he involved Oriya, Kazutaka still respected and loved his friend and protector. Muraki seemed to have a kind of honor for him: Oriya let the other half feed from him at times, to keep him from taking from the lives of the weaker folk around him.
He hoped, someday, that this other side could be exorcised somehow, that Kazutaka no longer had to live with this symbiont with which his life now intertwined, that one day, Muraki would be put to flight and that Kazutaka would remain, battered from the ordeal, sadder, due to his crimes, but wiser from having endured these things.
fic_promptly's Author’s Choice, Author’s Choice, S/He wasn‘t treacherous, but their other personality was Oriya/Muraki, references to energy vampirism.Oriya had known the pale man who lay sleeping on his futon for too long, to see him, or at least a part of him, as anyone other than Kazutaka, the pale, spindly young man he'd met on his first day at Shion University's affiliated high school. No matter what crimes were committed by this creature that his friend had become, he still saw a flicker of the shy, bookish youth he'd known, the kid who could barely defend himself against the bullying students who bedeviled him. the kid whom he'd had to teach how to fight, the kid whose half-brother had destroyed his family then tried to kill him.
Somewhere in that blast furnace of pain and tragedy, another aspect had been forged, another persona lurking in the shadows of Kazutaka's mind and soul. On that fateful night, when Kazutaka had lost his eye, it was then that the other persona emerged, the more dangerous one, the beast born of pain and fear, the half of this whole who wished to be the one maiming and killing and spreading fear, because he had been maimed and wounded in soul and harmed in body. Now it would be his turn to cause the fear and the pain.
His companion, his friend and lover, turned over onto his back, the moonlight from the window pooling in silver on his smooth-skinned chest, his hair, the same silvery color as the moonlight, tumbled over his delicate face. In sleep and in the moonlight, he looked younger, more frail, like the young man he had been. Like Kazutaka. The one who killed, the one who forgot his oath to use his gifts and skills to do no harm, the one who fed on the strength and the pain of the living, that one was Muraki. When the other's eyes were open, Oriya could not help but think that the remaining eye of flesh, however cold or detached its expression, was Kazutaka's eye, while the cold eye of acrylic plastic that filled the empty socket was Muraki's eye. The former sometimes showed a hint of Kazutaka's gentleness, particularly when Ukyou was with him. But the latter remained perpetually cold and impassively dangerous, much as the side of him that cared not for the lives of the humans around him.
Oriya did not fear this side of his friend: if anything, no matter what form he took and no matter what schemes he involved Oriya, Kazutaka still respected and loved his friend and protector. Muraki seemed to have a kind of honor for him: Oriya let the other half feed from him at times, to keep him from taking from the lives of the weaker folk around him.
He hoped, someday, that this other side could be exorcised somehow, that Kazutaka no longer had to live with this symbiont with which his life now intertwined, that one day, Muraki would be put to flight and that Kazutaka would remain, battered from the ordeal, sadder, due to his crimes, but wiser from having endured these things.
