まほら (mahora) wrote in sessou, @ 2008-12-24 15:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | 50stories, nightmare, niya/sakito |
[50stories] What Happened in Marumori - Niya x Sakito - 1/3
Title: What Happened in Marumori
Theme: #9, blood
Rating: R
Pairing: Ni~ya x Sakito
Band[s]: Nightmare
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comments: Halloween fic! :3
“The body of 28 year old Takeshi Yamada was found yesterday afternoon by police after a neighbor reported an unusual smell centered at his apartment. At this time the cause and time of death are unknown, though the authorities suspect violent means due to the circumstances in which the body was found. This has been a News at 10 bulletin, please tune in tomorrow for further updates.”
Niya shivered and flicked the TV off. Already he didn’t care much for his new hometown, and a violent murder in the next block wasn’t helping acquaint him with his surroundings. He glanced at the clock – still early, at least for him. The silence of his mostly empty apartment pressed in, a slow suffocation that spurred Niya to grab his cigarette pack and a jacket and rush out into the open night.
No fingers of mist curled around his ankles, no animals prowled the trees, and the moon was decidedly a gibbous, and a conservative silver at that. A woman walked her dog, moving quickly away from him toward the building, but he noticed it wasn’t out of anxiety, but cold, her hands rubbing in front of her warming breath. Niya snorted, the exhalation coming out in a neat white cloud. The cold snap had come early that October, much to Niya’s approval. He never did much care for humidity.
The white wisps of his cigarette joined his breath while he stood at the curb, almost disappointed that it was so peaceful outside. Glancing down the block, he realized he was trying to spot the building where the murder on the news took place, but it was just a little bit too dark to see that far even with the streetlights. Maybe the darkness was collecting at that address, further obscuring his view. A brief but uncomfortable tug in his gut had Niya hurrying back for the warmth of his building.
- - - - -
Five forty-five, almost time to go home. Niya watched second hand tick over the top his magazine, the last ray of the late sun glancing off the scratched plastic face. There wasn’t anything keeping him from leaving early other than pure honesty, every seat in the bar empty except for himself and the short order cook in the kitchen. Bartending had always been Niya’s dream job, but after four days there he was loosing some enthusiasm. Still, the free booze was nice and if he could only wrest the late night shift away from the sleepy young thing that was somehow his senior then perhaps it would be more exciting.
Yomi burst out of the kitchen, tossing his grimy apron over a stool and pouring himself a drink. As a rule, the short cook never drank before six, but the particular slowness of the day had him started early. Niya pulled out a glass of his own, slightly guilty but knowing the owner would never find out.
“I’m beat, and the night’s barely started,” Yomi commented, pulling a face before downing his shot. “Remind me why I agreed to work a double twice a week?”
Niya shrugged and smiled. As always, the cook was being purposefully overdramatic when they both knew he’d just been sitting in the back watching soap operas the entire day.
“Never again.” Yomi nodded decisively and poured himself a second. Apparently he was determined to be drunk before the second shift started. “Did you hear about that Yamada guy that was killed in his bed?”
“He was in bed?” The news hadn’t been very specific. If a man could be killed in his own bed…well, that didn’t do much for helping Niya feel secure. Perhaps he should get his locks changed.
“Oh yeah.” Yomi was obviously gearing up for a fantastical string of gossip. “I heard that he was butt naked too. Died during sex, yanno?”
“…Oh.”
“And you know what the creepiest part is?” Leaning close, Yomi lowered his voice though no one was within earshot. “It wasn’t that he was naked or in bed or anything, no. I heard that he died of blood loss, but there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere in the apartment.”
Before Yomi could lean back with the knowing nod he affected for the juiciest gossip, a mildly curious voice interrupted, startling them both an inch off their seats. The hairs on the back of Niya’s neck prickled unpleasantly.
“No blood at all?”
When Yomi recovered after a few seconds, he shook his head emphatically. “None. But that’s just what I heard.”
“Hello to you too, Sakito.” Niya was grumbling, he knew, but his heart was still racing too much to care. “Sneaking up on us like that is damned creepy, you know.”
Sakito stifled a yawn with one of his elegantly structured hands. Those hands were not suited, Niya thought, to bartending the night shift. Nor was the rest of him. Sakito had smooth brown hair and soft dark eyes and a demure smile that Niya found charming, but also a bit unapproachable. Entirely unlike himself and Yomi, he seemed like he would fit in better at an upscale club than a pokey neighborhood bar.
“I didn’t sneak up, you two were just not paying attention.” Sakito said evenly, moving to hang up his jacket and scarf.
Finding it in himself to move, Niya went to the coat rack to retrieve his. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Sakito gave him an impression of fragility in the other man, punctuated by the cool feel of his skin when their hands brush together in the close space. “Don’t you wear gloves in this weather?” he blurted without considering that he might be getting too personal too soon.
The question seemed to surprise Sakito, but he answered easily, withdrawing his hand and examining his fingers. “No, but I suppose I should. They are quite cold, aren’t they?”
“Well, I have an extra pair if you want to borrow them.”
“Alright, thank you.” Sakito gave a little smile and slipped by to go behind the bar, leaving Niya to clumsily arrange his outerwear. It was a start, hopefully, to friendship. He waved goodbye to his coworkers and stepped out into the bitter autumn breeze.