“You never did lose your memory, did you Satoru?” Satoru could barely make a sound as his ex-teacher Yashiro Gaku stood in the doorway. His eyes glittering like two cups of black bitter coffee. Satoru’s frame didn’t feel as strong as it usually did, perhaps it was the fact that his body hadn’t moved in years and now it hardly felt capable of moving as that question nearly glued him to the spot. His legs feeling like the stubs of two pencils as he was faced with such an accusation. He swallowed roughly, trying to calm himself and shake the panic out of his own voice.
“No I did I-“ He felt his throat was as dry as gravel, but the assuredness in the others eyes seemed to still whatever excuse he had on his tongue, taking a hesitant step forward in case he needed to barrel past the sturdy looking frame of his teacher.. But his teacher simply moved in his way, blocking the only exit, leaning against the doorframe his hip brushing the steel. In the small hospital room which felt like it was no longer a comfortable residents but a noose closing slowly.
Yashiro’s fingertips drummed on the side of the door which his hand rested on, as he closed his eyes, his long lashes kissing his own cheeks as he just exhaled, sighing. A wry smile spread on his own lips, which dipped into a regretful smile. But the sadness in that smile didn’t reach his eyes which suddenly looked as cold as a dark bitter river when facing Satoru. ”Clever boy. But then again you always were....foiling me at every turn.”
Satoru could feel the evening spring chill, it had been pleasant to open the windows of the small hospital room to let out some of that stifling dusty smell and ointments, that seemed to permanently settle in every room, he had wanted to breath in the crisp air, but now that iciness of the night no longer felt refreshing but left something cold trickling down his own spine.
“You got greedy though Satoru...companions in crime...clever play on words, using my own teachings against me.” He descended towards him slowly closing in on Satoru who could only back away. The room suddenly feeling like ice as his feet clumsily pitter pattered on the cold plastic-feeling hospital floor, his fluffy slippers long forgotten as he stepped out of them. Readying for the fact that they would be useless if he had to run. “But I suppose its a teachers dream to watch their students surpass them.”
His eyebrow twitched at that comment and something unfathomable boiled in his stomach. “You are not my teacher! You forfeited that right...when you tried to...”“Satoru.....say it.””Murder someone...” Satoru said with true horror in his voice, the dread washing over him and binding him like spiders silk. They were mere steps away but he felt like he had already been caught.“A-Ahhh....you said it..” He whispered running his hands through his dark unruly locks, his lips parting as he stared to the ceiling as though he was gasping for air. But Satoru Fujinuma in this small secluded room with his enemy in tow...felt as if he was the one drowning.
When Yashiro Gaku looked at him, it wasn’t the kind teacher who had helped him save people and patted his head making him feel safe, but something monstrous, the way he smiled was sinister than kind. But there was relief there in his gaping jaw, his toothy grin. Like a snake shedding its far too tight skin. Satoru took another step back with Yashiro following in his steed. His hands gesturing to Satoru. His eyes filled with the young man. “I felt like it was gone for good, that delicious sensation. I was sure I would never again experience it ever again...But as soon as you spoke it all came rushing back...”
There was a jolt of darkness in the other mans eyes, something that made Satoru think of a dangerous pit of creatures. Rolling around in those dark wells. “Pressure!” He hissed it. “I felt as if I was the rat treading water to stay afloat! In your hands being melded like putty...no one makes me feel the way you do, like I’m drowning.” Yashiro pressed a finger against his own throat tapping it. The closer he got towards Satoru the more eager he seemed.
His gloved hand reached towards Satoru, his eyes alight, his breathing all but a haggard mess. “Satoru! Satoru!” He was almost frothing at the mouth, that wild look in his eyes, which darted over the young mans body. Drinking Sotaru in like an alcoholic lusting for a drop of whiskey, a terrifying monster. Satoru was now practically taking long strides backwards. “Stop, go away!”
“Come to me!”
Satoru’s back hit something solid, cold and unmoving, in that moment he forgot to breathe, he looked behind him to see a solid wall and felt like throwing up his hands pressed to cold stone and filing cabinets. He shut his eyes. Waiting for the final blow. Ahh check mate. He thought closing his eyes, not wanting to see the madman do whatever he was going to do next. His body shivering from being exposed to cold brick and mortar as he waited for the inevitable.
Warm...he felt warm...why was that? Something dense and warm collided against his body laying him flat against stone and he felt a solid form wrapping its self around him. The feint scent of coffee candy and something tickling his nose. He inhaled a shaky breath for bravery. He lethargically opened his eyes, heavy from fear to see his teacher embracing him tightly. Arms winding around his own pinning them to his side as he was pressed against the wall. A delicate hand at the base of his skull a firm chest against his own. His nose buried in his ex-teachers hair.
The disorienting feel of a human body, squeezing his own. A voice as smooth as silk caressing the shells of his delicate ear. As he blinked in confusion. “Y-Yashiro?” That hand petting the back of his head, winding itself in his locks and stroking his nape.
“Satoru....listen to your teacher for once..” Satoru didn’t even have the strength to answer he nodded slowly, unsure what this odd interaction would lead to. He expected to be murdered at any point.
”You are my destiny Satoru. My silver line dangling in hell to pull me out. Can’t you see? My damnation and my salvation. My hell and my heaven. Oh Satoru!” He felt Yashiro's breath kissing his neck as he held like a precious thing in this serial killers arms.
The various filing cabinets pushing through the thin material of his hospital gown and biting into his flesh. Their sharp jaw settling on his neck, warming the skin with their cheek. He was sure Yashiro could feel his heartbeat through his neck which now felt like a bird flying around in a very small cage. Fear, fear of the unknown. Confusion at what Yashiro was going to do next“Yashir-?“ He rasped in confusion his throat sore and unpracticed, as though cobwebs were sitting in his brain.
“I love you...”“
S-Sensei!” He choked. His eyes as wide as dinner plates, having a serial killer confess their love was not part of the plan. He suddenly tried to rip himself out of their arms. But they simply held him tighter constricting all movement. “SENSE-“ His disapproval was cut off as he felt Yashiro suddenly bare down on his throat biting the side of the delicate column of Satoru’s throat. “A-AHHH!” His teeth dragging against his throat tasting his heart beat so suddenly he whipped his head back crying out.
His head nearly slamming into the he cabinets from shock if Yoshiro’s hand hadn’t protected it. “Mmm yes Satoru! I’m your sensei all yours!” Their voice sounded maddened with delight! Delight so frightening it made Satoru feel as though his heart had jumped up in his throat.
“AAA-H-HNNG!” His voice could do nothing but cry out, his glasses jauntily hanging up his face as he stared at the ceiling mouth open in shock as Yoshiro changed target latching his mouth onto his Adam’s apple biting down so vividly he made Satoru see white. He didn’t take into account the possibility that foiling his teachers plots...may have made them obsessed with him! Their arms so tight around him he felt he was being crushed by a boa constrictor.
“Let me have you Satoru...just behave!” His lips wet with sin, his eyes moist at the corners at that devastating smile that would have made all the first grade teachers fall for Mr Yashiro Gaku!” He desperately tried to plea, to make this sinister man stop and think. His tongue heavy in his mouth as he panted out.
“No! No! Yashiro! No!”
His only warning had been the knife like glint in their eyes, the softest quirk of their lips before he was being devoured by the other man! Their lips swallowed any sort of complaint. So hot and pliant against his.
He grunted on impact, his back slamming back against the wall. Satoru was trapped in a small room with his worst enemy, kissing the breath out of him. That was when he started to panic! He started to wriggle like a mad thing, trying to tug his own lips from Yashiro who wouldn’t ease himself off them. No matter how much he tried to avoid their assault of kisses, wherever his mouth went there’s followed. As though his lips were magnetised to it.
Trailing wet kisses on his lips with needless want. He ripped his mouth of there’s inhaling oxygen so deeply he felt as though he would pass out as he went to yell into the corridor hoping someone would hear him. “
“SOMEBODY HEL-MMMPH” GLUG! His spit squelched at the side of his mouth as Yashiro took the opportunity of Satoru’s protest to thrust his long wet tongue straight down his throat. His tongue rolling around like an eager worm inside his throat. Making tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he was forced to gulp it down, tongue and spit. Yashiro was in his throat. “Mmmm! Mmm! Mmmmm!”
That awful tongue seemed to be filling every inch of his mouth, what Satoru hated more than the fact that his enemies tongue was lurching itself down his throat was the little spiral of something pleasurable which sparked down his spine. He had to fight it! He had to! But every time they rolled their tongue he felt like he was going to faint. The silence in the room broken by the gurgling and sloppy sounds of his throat being licked.
His arms restricted by Yashiro’s insane strength, as his hands clawed at their jacket. His strength to fight them fading as their tongue did all sorts of things to his head. By the time Yoshiro let go of his lips, he was grateful for the wall because Satoru felt like he was just about going to fall over.
His breath short and fast and his eyes downcast as he tried to catch his breath. Heat bloomed in his cheeks. 26 year of living and a serial killer stole his first kiss. His forehead pressed into their shoulder. As he tried to catch his breath. Arms lining his back, fingers pressed against the divots of his spine, testing the bumps there. His head a mess.
“Come home with me Satoru.”