Chapter Text
Four months had passed since Chisaki’s seizure of power and at this point his role as the new oyabun of the Hassaikai was undisputed. Within the walls of the compound, he was a king among men.
Outside in Musutafu however, there was lingering resistance from a few of the businesses the Hassaikai sponsored or provided protection for, especially since Chisaki had increased the cut of the profits and tributes the yakuza would be taking from them. His master was not surprised by this. Pops, he’d explained, had treated so many of their associates as if they were prized mares, and a prideful horse was always stubborn to accept a new mount. So he aimed to remind all of them what they truly were: lambs at the foot of a lion.
Chisaki stood tall as Shouto finished dressing him, buttoning up his suit vest then applying his tie in practiced, precise movements. Over, under, tighten, his master preferred a very snug fit. Shouto enjoyed the privilege to be allowed to clothe Chisaki, who was so averse to most physical contact. Only he was permitted to see his master bare in all his beauty, to brush his naked fingertips over graceful plains of well defined muscles and tanned skin. And Chisaki’s gaze was fixed on him as he went about his task.
Shouto moved over to the silver case laid on the bed. His master had commissioned a new custom mask for himself. More elaborate than the simple black face mask he’d donned before. It was a design reminiscent of medieval plague masks, but with gold accents and a slightly more modern touch. Shouto very carefully took it into his hands, fitted the straps behind Chisaki’s ears. It was almost grotesque in appearance, nightmarish.
Now his master looked like a true demon of the Musutafu underworld.
+
Chisaki summoned the leaders of businesses sponsored and protected by the Hassaikai to one of the executive suites of a high rise hotel for an evening meal. From its balcony one had a perfect overlook of the Musutafu metropolis aglow in the neon night-lights and flashes of traffic. All the hustle of the general populace going about their insignificant lives, ignorant to the work of those who truly ran this territory.
Men and women of wealth and illicit power stood about the room, mingling lightly. Several came and paid their respects to Chisaki, spoke words of fake pleasantries. His master allowed this to go on for a few minutes before drawing all of the attention in the room back to himself. “It has come to my attention that several of you take issue with the increase in cuts and tributes I have issued to you.”
An uneasy silence fell over the room. The guests looked about one another nervously, few now willing to engage in open disagreement with their new oyabun. But one man did step forward. Ito, of high birth and old money fortune. A man who had long been in business with the old boss, a friend of his even. A position which surely made him feel as though he had an elevated level of security.
“We mean no disrespect, Chisaki-sama, ” Ito claimed, coming towards Chisaki. “It is simply that we are used to being consulted on such matters, given the chance to work out any issues we might have. I am certain all of us are willing to reach an agreement with you, if we are allowed to negotiate.”
As Ito spoke, Shouto subtly moved from his master’s shadow into a position behind the man who dared approach Chisaki as though they were equals. He waited, watching his master closely.
Chisaki did a slight flourish with his hand. “I see. I understand completely.” His gaze briefly fell on Shouto, and that was all the signal that was required.
Shouto kicked Ito, knocking him down to his knees. Then he swiftly drew one of his wakizashi, thrusting it through Ito’s skull, the tip of his blade protruding from between the man’s eyes. Slowly he withdrew his blade, but did not place it back in its sheath. In the silence that fell over the room, Ito’s body fell to the ground with a resounding thud.
Chisaki turned towards the rest of those in attendance. “You work for me, not with me. I do not negotiate my terms. I dictate them, and you will follow them or else I have no use for you. Does anyone else have any objections?”
Silence was the only answer he received, the lambs accepting their place in the herd. His master gave a slight nod, casually stepping over Ito’s corpse. “Excellent. Now let's talk business.”
+
Shouto sat atop his master’s legs, kneading the naked skin of his back in firm motions. Chisaki’s form was exquisite, he took such care of himself and you could feel the meticulously maintained definition and solidity of his muscles. He took his time with the massage, working out every single area of even the slightest tension with dedication.
A knock on the door had his master turning his head to the side. “Enter.” Chisaki commanded, and the doors parted so that Chronostasis and Shiori could step inside.
“You summoned me Overhaul?” Chronostasis said, clasping his hands behind his back.
Chisaki sighed as Shouto’s hands moved to his lower back. “Yes. I’ve decided I’m reinstating the Bushi Initiative.” He explained. “It was foolish of Pops to disband it. Three lethal weapons were forged from that program and they all continue to serve me well. We need more of them. Start going through the quirk registry that’s mandated for children in orphanages and find me new initiates, none of which may exceed the age of ten.”
“Right away sir.” Chronostasis said, and he and Shiori promptly departed.
Chisaki allowed Shouto to continue his work for several more minutes before stopping him. “That’s enough my Yōkai.” After Shouto wiped him down and then moved off of him his master turned over. Between his legs he was hard. “What do you think, Shouto, about having more initiates?”
Shouto paused, it was not often that his master asked for his opinion on such matters. After a moment he held up his hands to sign his response. I do not question your will. I believe more than twelve would be preferable. So few of us survived to complete our training.
Chisaki removed the black cloth mask he was wearing. “You make an excellent point.” He said, and then placed Shouto’s hand on his hardness. “Use your mouth on me.” He commanded and Shouto was quick to comply.
+
Three times now, Eri had tried to escape.
Each time the charge who’d lost her was executed, but that was proving not enough to discourage her. A strange feeling was ever-present in Shouto whenever he was around her, especially now. She truly did not belong here, not in spirit, but she now had a vital role to play in his master’s operations. So this is where she would remain.
Part of him hoped she would come to accept this faster than many of the former Bushi Initiates had. Faster than he had perhaps, though he could not recall the exact moment he’d chosen to embrace his new purpose. The moment he realized pain would be a factor in his life forever, and accepted that. Pain was now a part of Eri’s life as well, the experiments Chisaki was performing on her cells resulting in her arms being wrapped in bandages. She cried the entire time he worked on her, she begged for him to do anything to make it hurt less. To which his master simply said that she must learn to endure suffering.
Nemoto brought Eri to Chisaki’s office. His master rose from his seat, moving to stand before Eri. “I understand how difficult it can be, accepting one's purpose. Especially after being coddled for so long.” Chisaki sighed. “But I refuse to hide you from the truth about yourself Eri. From your destiny. You were born to destroy people. And even when you try to flee, you cannot escape that truth. Three men have died because of you already. Yet you do not seem to care.”
Chisaki paused, pacing for a moment. “Perhaps because those men meant nothing to you. You remember Shouto?” He waited until Eri gave a hesitant nod before continuing. “In fact, I believe you’ve taken quite a liking to him since he saved you. Would you like it if Shouto were your friend?”
Eri’s gaze flickered over to Shouto, her eyes growing wet with tears. She was terrified but she nodded again, her lower lip quivering.
“Then from now on, he will be your friend.” Chisaki held out his hand, curling his fingers towards himself. “Come here Shouto.”
Shouto did as he was beckoned, going to his master, who maneuvered him so that he was standing in front of him, his back flush against Chisaki’s front.
“Shouto may be your friend,” Chisaki went on, bringing a hand up to cup Shouto’s jaw. “But he has pledged himself to me . He has given me everything that he is, and all that he will be.” Shouto didn’t resist as his master guided his head so that it was tilted to the side. “Whatever I want, I can do to him.” Chisaki’s mask brushed against the curve of his ear. “Look into her eyes.” His master commanded and Shouto did as he was bid.
With his other hand Chisaki drew one of Shouto’s wakizashi from their holster, placed the sharp edge of the blade against Shouto’s neck. “Look at him Eri.” His master said, voice cold like a winter wind. Eri sobbed, began to close her eyes. “I said look at him .” Chisaki commanded, in a tone that made even Shouto’s blood chill. A soft, wounded noise fell from Eri’s lips, but she obeyed. Red eyes stared into Shouto’s. Chisaki spoke again. “A true friend does not allow their friend to suffer for their mistakes.”
Pressure. Graceful, vicious pressure sent the sharp blade slicing through the layers of skin at his throat. Shouto exhaled harshly, gasping, feeling the weight of the steel sink even further, through the muscle, nearly to the bone. He clutched at where his master was holding his chest, but not to try and struggle or move away. No, he held onto Chisaki as one would a lifeline, as his master dragged the blade across his neck sending a river of black spilling from his body down onto the floor. A scream was heard. It must have been Eri’s, but it sounded very very faint to his ears like a cry drowned out by a waterfall.
The door opened, Eri’s screams began to grow further away, until they fell silent. Now it was just him and his master, who lowered his body until he was lying down on the floor.
After removing his mask, Chisaki climbed on top of him, pressed their mouths together, swallowing Shouto’s wet coughs and dying gasps. Even as he felt himself sinking, he wrapped his arms around Chisaki’s neck, moved his lips against his masters. Cold, he was growing so cold and his master was full of warmth and deep passion. His blood was staining Chisaki’s beautiful skin with black.
His master devoured his lips, kissing him until he was right at the precipice of death and on his last breaths his master’s hands touched his wounded neck. Then, by Chisaki’s will, he was revived. Reborn.
+
Shouto was surprised that Eri had requested to see him so soon after their last encounter following her escape attempt. He was even more surprised that Chisaki allowed the visit.
Eri was seated in her bed, twisting the sheets between her fingers. With some hesitation Shouto sat down beside her and was unprepared for her to throw her arms around him, holding him tightly as she sobbed. “I’m sorry!” Eri cried. “I’m so sorry!”
Shouto sat very still as she cried, unsure of what to do. He was far from used to these kind of situations. Eventually he raised his hand, though the motion was stiff, and placed it on top of Eri’s head. This only made her hold onto him tighter.
After a few minutes though, she released him. “W-will you still be my friend?” She asked quietly, fear in her voice.
Shouto nodded. A softness touched Eri’s gaze then, and for a moment it looked as if she would smile.
“I want to learn sign language, so you can talk to me.” She whispered, then looked up at him. “Do you think, if I’m good, Overhaul will let someone teach me?”
While he did not know for certain, Shouto did know that if Eri were compliant, things would be much easier for her. So he nodded.
She hugged him again. “I’d really like that! Thank you so much Shouto!”
They stayed that way for a few minutes, until the door opened, summoning Shouto away. Eri said goodbye to him with such warmth in her voice. And that strange feeling in him rose again. An echo of an emotion he used to feel once, that now no longer had a place within him.
Kill it , he reminded himself firmly, whatever you’re feeling, kill it right now. It will not serve you . He’d told himself that once before, and knew those words to be true.
This was not a place for a living heart. Shouto had learned that lesson long ago. In time, Eri would as well.