As You See Me...
Disclaimer: No copyrights were harmed in the making of this fic...
Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, AU
Yohji Kudou sat at the piano and winced at his latest sheet of lyrics. It was getting harder and harder to write while on tour. His mind kept drifting to how things had been before he'd become a known singer/songwriter. It wasn't the first time this had happened. It wouldn't be the last time it happened.
He loved music. Ever since he'd realized that he had a talent with his voice, he'd strived to become as fluent in as many instruments as he could. He'd done things he wasn't proud of in his past to get that knowledge, but so far, nothing had come of it. Very few people equated the little brat with the shining green eyes and dark hair with the tall, willowy blond he was now.
He stretched his long legs out under the piano and plucked his cigarette from the ashtray. Taking a deep drag from it, he cast his eyes out the window. Another city. Another country. He'd always liked touring; ever since he'd had his first taste of the screaming crowds, Yohji was hopelessly addicted. No matter how the cityscape looked, the beauty of the setting sun was always a little different in each place he went.
Yohji stood up and stretched the rest of his body, hearing a few satisfying pops. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, he walked to the balcony and rested his hands on the rail. Japan was gorgeous at night. He loved walking the streets after dark. He had an outfit that he wore just for such a purpose.
He turned away from the last rays of dusk and started back indoors. Yohji thought it was about time to break out said outfit. His suitcase sat in the bedroom and he opened it slowly, one hand pushing aside the many pairs of jeans and slacks that he wore when not being a rock star. Under them all was the coat. The coat, the crop top, and the pants. He pulled each one out reverently. These had been relics from his past that he couldn't bear to get rid of.
Down the sleeves of the coat were white stripes that buckled at his biceps. The crop top was tight over his lithe frame, kept that way with many hours spent in the gym. The dark pants fit him like a glove; hugging his hips and showing off his ass to perfection. At least, they would if the coat didn't cover it.
Under them all sat a watch. He picked it out of the stack of garments and wrapped it around his wrist. Twisting the ring around the face made it leave the main body of the band and it pulled out with a *zing* as thin wire trailed back to the timepiece. Another momento from his past. He'd never had the heart to get rid of it. Too many times it had saved his life.
Back when he was a rebellious teenager, he'd killed for money. Back then, he didn't care so much for life. His own or others.
That all changed when he'd met a young woman named Asuka. She'd turned his life upside down. Sure, he'd been sent to kill the nosy bitch, but he just couldn't do it. Somehow, in just a few words of conversation, she'd managed to worm her way into the already disillusioned youth's heart.
Okay, so she'd died a month after that, but that wasn't the point.
He let the ring snap back to the watch and reset it to the face. Reaching inside the coat, he pulled out his sunglasses and perched them on the bridge of his nose. From the other inner pocket, he produced a pair of gloves and slid them over his slender hands. Good and snug; just how he liked them.
He strode from the room, taking up his keycard and shoving it into a pocket, and turned for the door. Yohji just needed a few hours away from this. Just a little time to remember what it was like to be just a normal guy. Then, he'd come back and maybe he could finish that god-damned song that had been rolling around in his head for the last two weeks.
Outside the door, he nodded to his bodyguard, "Stay put. I just need some air. I won't be long. Just make everyone think I'm asleep or something."
The burly man was old hat at this scenario. His boss would go out, but he never got into trouble and always came back when he said he would. He tapped his breast pocket, "You get into trouble, don't forget the cell."
"I got ya," Yohji said as he started down the hall, his boots not even making a scuffing sound on the carpet. He took the elevator down and made his way through the lobby. No one even looked at him. He smiled - that's what he loved about this outfit. It made him look dangerous enough that no one wanted to make eye contact. Hence, people would leave him alone.
The night air felt good outside of the hotel and he instantly turned in a random direction; then, he started walking. He usually had pretty good instincts about where he was going. Yohji loved going to the bad parts of different towns. A lot of material to work with when writing his music, he always said.
He slid his hands up his sleeves, feeling the coils of wire inside each one. That always gave him a sense of comfort when he went out. Yohji knew he could defend himself better than most people. It was something he was proud of. He took out his pack of smokes and removed one of the slim white cylinders. He put it to his lips, lit it, then inhaled deeply as he continued on to his goal.
Within an hour, he'd found what he sought. It was easy to tell. Suddenly the street was populated with lower class bars and hookers. Most female, a few male - he wondered just how much such favors were going for these days. It wasn't like he couldn't have anyone he wanted. Sometimes, though, Yohji considered it a challenge to actually make one of the poor unfortunates *feel* something during the oft-practiced act. That, and at least, if he was the 'john', he knew just what kind of shape and money the person was going to leave with later.
His green eyes roamed over the assortment tonight. Not really much to choose from. One looked like she was too young and that was an instant turn off to Yohji. He didn't mess with underage girls. Another looked terribly bored. A big no-no. She wasn't even trying to put any effort into making money, so she obviously didn't need it. He moved further down the street, ignoring the offers from the ones that he deemed unsuitable, and kept his eyes open for opportunity.
Yohji paused at an alley mouth, his head cocking to the side. He thought he heard something… there! That was it! A sound like an impact on flesh. A quick glance and he moved as silent as could be into the dark passageway. He continued, sticking to the shadows, until he could see what the hell was going on.
What greeted his gaze gave him pause. The beating was vicious and brutal. 'That poor kid…' Yohji's eyes narrowed to slits. He couldn't stand to see those incapable of defending themselves being beaten in such a fashion. Fast as an eyeblink, he whipped out his arm and sent one of the trailing wires after the assailant.
With what he was seeing, he didn't give a shit whether this was a random attack or simply a pimp beating his bitch into submission. No-one, but *no-one*, had the right to hurt someone so maliciously. All he could see of the victim was a head full of unruly red hair. When his wire caught up the attacker's wrist, the youth took the chance to get in a solid knee to his groin and then ran like hell down towards Yohji's end of the alley.
Again, with the speed he'd been trained for in his youth, the singer reached out. His hand caught one trailing arm as the redhead tried to blaze past him. Using his better strength, he pulled that struggling form to him, "Are you all right?"
The prostitute surprised him, lashing out with a punch that sent him off-balance. Yohji staggered to the side, letting the person go, and recalled the line that had been secured. His head snapped around just in time to see the figure go running out of the alley, "Stubborn!" He kicked off with his long legs, leaving the other man dazed behind him, and went after the fleeing youth.
'Must have been a guy,' he mused to himself as he cleared the mouth of the alleyway, 'No girl hits like *that*…' He paused for a moment, casting his eyes around, and spied the redhead ducking into one of the nearest buildings. 'Perfect,' he thought acidly, 'I could have lost him if I'd stayed just a second too long…'
A few of the other streetwalkers watched with detached interest as he made his way to the building. It looked to be abandoned, but he knew that it was probably a squat for the homeless. Yohji cautiously opened the door, staying just to the side so that he was out of the way for another attack, and took a quick peek in. The stench of urine, stale alcohol, and things that were best left nameless assailed his nose.
'Some things don't change, no matter what country you're in,' he mused as he slowly, cautiously, went up the short flight of stairs. All the doors on the lower floor had been boarded up, so he knew that his quarry wasn't there. He could hear the pounding of feet up the stairs and immediately moved to follow. His sharp ears could pick out that the redhead was a couple of floors up from him and still going strong.
He listened carefully to the echoes, paying attention to when they left the stairwell, and stopped at what he was sure was the right floor. It wasn't much better than the lower levels, save for the fact that the stink wasn't so bad here. Slowly and with as much care as possible, he started down the hall. Yohji listened as he passed each door, his ears trying to pick up the sounds of heavy breathing that he *knew* the young man should be doing.
All the portals seemed like one good solid punch would shatter them, Yohji noted. That might work to his advantage here. Thanks to his extensive training, there was a lot more power packed into his lean frame than a normal person. He'd taken martial arts early on and kept practicing it well into his adulthood, so he was tougher than the average Joe. His footsteps were silent as could be, even over the glass that was strewn about the flooring from broken bottles of booze.
A soft gasp caught his attention and he whipped his head around to the door on his left. That would be his elusive rescuee. He went to the door and knocked gently on the wood, "Listen… I'm not going to hurt you. Come on out and let me take a look. Let me make sure that he didn't mess you up too much."
"Fuck off," came the indignant reply from within. The voice was muffled, "You fucking come in, 'rescue' me, and later you'll be gone. That does me little good tomorrow, when it just happens all over again…"
'Good point,' Yohji cursed himself; the boy was pretty jaded already. He might have ended up like this if it hadn't been for Asuka. One gloved hand went flat against the door, "Fine, I'll give you that. But tomorrow might not come if you don't let someone check you out."
"Just get out," came the heated answer. Damn, but the kid had a nice voice, even when angry. In the past, Yohji had experimented with guys. He'd even had a short-lived boyfriend. It didn't help him that he had a fondness for redheads. The singer just loved that inner fire that always seemed to come through no matter what they were doing.
"Listen, I'm not going anywhere," Yohji tried again, "So you may as well come out. I don't think you've got too many friends to help you out here. From the look of you, you're probably one of those that's managed to piss off everyone else on the block."
"Fuck you," the young man on the other side growled, "I don't have to take this shit from you!"
Yohji changed gears, digging into his pocket to pull out some money, "Would five hundred American dollars be enough to convince you to take this 'shit'?" He held the wad of cash up in front of the peep hole so that the youth could see it.
He heard a shocked sound come from the other side. Then silence. He waited. Yohji knew what was happening. The redhead was trying to decide between the danger of opening the door and facing his pimp empty handed. The singer knew which one would win out.
Slowly, the door opened. Even more slowly, it widened so that Yohji could finally see the young man he'd rescued. He buried his response to him. That boy was absolutely gorgeous. The crimson hair looked to be as soft as silk, despite his living conditions, and those eyes… the color of purest amethyst. "Five hundred American?"
He thumbed the bills, showing that he was on the level, "It's yours if you let me take a look at you and make sure that you don't need to go to the hospital."
The young man was silent for a moment, then he spoke in a soft voice, "Oh-okay…" His eyes were cast down, almost shy and ashamed, until Yohji's gloved hands went to his cheeks and tilted his head up.
"What's your name?" Yohji took note of the few bruises on his face. One over a cheekbone, a bit of a split lip, one at the jaw. Not too bad.
Tentative silence, "Ran."
Yohji's hands went to the hem of the shirt the prostitute was wearing, "Well, Ran, I'm going to take off your shirt so I can take a look. Is that all right with you?"
"It's your money," Ran said lowly, "Do what you want." The wary look in his eyes told Yohji that he didn't believe him for a second. Obediently, though, he lifted his arms and let the fabric come up off his body.
The shirt went to rest over Yohji's shoulder and he knelt down to take a really good look. His fingers trailed along a nasty gash in the redhead's ribs, "That doesn't look good. But it's not new. Get it from one of your johns?"
Ran glared at him, "That's none of your fucking business."
With a nod, Yohji moved on, turning the youth around so he could take a look at his back. His lips set in a grim line when he saw the scattering of scars over the smooth expanse of Ran's back. To his trained eye, they were whip tracks. There were also some deep bruises there and he was sure the boy had a few cracked ribs. Against his better judgement, he was going to have to get the young man to a doctor, "Get some clothes."
"What?"
"I said get some clothes," Yohji repeated, "You need a doctor." He handed Ran back his shirt, "I paid a healthy sum for your time, so you better get moving."
The redhead pulled his shirt down and straightened it out, "I never said I'd leave with you."
"Just stop fucking arguing for once and do as I say," Yohji said in exasperation. He wasn't going to waste half the night trading words with the youth. "I'll pay for the treatment, so don't worry."
"What's in it for you?" Ran's voice was acidic.
"Listen," Yohji growled, leaning in close, "If I just wanted a willing lay, I could do a hell of a lot better than a mouthy little whore." His eyes glittered behind his sunglasses, "And I wouldn't have to spend a fucking dime. Now, get some clothes together and stop yapping."
Ran's bravado deflated. One look at the blond and he knew Yohji was right. Woodenly, he moved inside the room and gathered some of his cleaner things, stuffing them into a backpack. Without a word, he turned and moved to stand in front of the singer, "I'm ready."
Stepping out of the way, Yohji let him by and followed him down the hall. They got outside and Ran looked at him for the direction, following when the blond pointed down the street. As they passed by some of the other streetwalkers, a few of them called out to the boy.
"Looks like you caught yourself a good one for once, wonderboy!"
"He looks like he's got staying power… Are you sure you can handle him, Aya-chan?"
"Why would a hot babe like that go for a willful bitch like you, Aya? What, did you have to pay *him*?"
Ran snarled at the women, but quieted when a gloved hand gently fell on his shoulder, "Ignore them." Yohji's voice was soothing, calm, soft.
Not another word passed between them for the rest of the walk out of the district.
TBC