Don't Say a Word
Kai/Uruha (the Gazette)
(R/NC17)
--

"Make a sound, and you're dead."

Kai stiffened in the darkness, eyes growing wide as he felt the hand latch onto his wrist painfully. His sharp intake of breath went unnoticed as the unseen speaker shifted himself on the edge of the bed.

"Play nice and maybe you'll live to see the dawn."

He struggled to recognize the voice, but his panicked mind refused to function. He made no protest as he was shoved onto his back, his blankets ripped away from his body. His stomach clenched when the other straddled his midsection, leaning up to secure both of his wrists to the metal piping that served as the headboard of his bed. As Kai's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the vague outline of the person hovering over him, but nothing more.

“Behave yourself.”

The man left the room. Kai lifted his head as much as he could, straining to see the clock on the bedside table, but it wasn’t there. The curtains had been drawn tightly across the windows, allowing no light to creep into the room. The darkness was complete and absolute. He tugged experimentally at the restraints, but they had no give even though they were cloth of some sort.

Hearing movement in the hallway, Kai let his head fall back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling, willing himself to be still, but the trembling in his limbs threatened to take over. A bright orange flare on his left drew his attention.

“Let there be light,” the other said, touching the match to a single white candle.

Kai’s eyes drifted upward, but his captor stayed just outside the glow of the flame. He bit his lip as the other slid back onto the bed, a hand coming out of the darkness to caress his face. Kai bit back a whimper, closing his eyes tightly. A sharp, stinging slap snapped them open again.

“Don’t you dare close your fucking eyes,” the other hissed. “Keep them open.”

Kai’s eyes watered, but he nodded. The hand caressed the place it had hit, tender fingers smoothing the burning skin before lips descended to kiss his jaw. The whimper would not be stopped this time. In response, the other closed his free hand over Kai’s throat, squeezing lightly.

“I told you to keep quiet,” the words flowed into his ear. “But I don’t expect you to be one hundred percent silent. Get any louder than that,” he squeezed, causing Kai to gasp, “and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

The hand shifted, running down Kai’s bare chest to his navel and back up to his neck, then repeated the circuit again. Kai kept his eyes open, but his trembling body gave away the anxiety he could not hide. He was terrified. The other chuckled, running his tongue up the side of Kai’s neck to his ear.

“You’re afraid. Good.”

The hand that was tracing circles across his abdomen dipped lower suddenly, delving into Kai’s sweatpants to grip him. Hard. Kai hissed through clenched teeth, only just managing to keep his eyes open against the pain. Another chuckle issued from his captor as he bit Kai’s ear, adding to the pain swelling in his body. Kai’s eyes watered and leaked shameful tears as the hand in his pants began to move, caressing him from top to bottom, making him hard against his will.

“You’re playing nice,” the other said, tracing lips and tongue along Kai’s jaw. “Good boy.”

Soft lips met his, tongue demanding entrance into Kai’s mouth. The drummer submitted, fighting the urge to bite. He was in no position to aggravate things, so he lay still and allowed the other to kiss him. The hand left his pants and the other moved away suddenly. Kai sighed softly in short lived relief. The other knelt at the foot of the bed and yanked the sweatpants away, leaving Kai naked and shivering on the bed.

“I knew you’d be beautiful,” the other whispered, running fingertips up the smooth skin of his thigh. “Breathtaking.”

Kai swallowed hard, fighting both the urge to scream and cry at the same time. The lips returned, the tongue dancing back into his mouth, while the hands explored Kai’s body. At random intervals, his captor would drag sharp nails across bare skin, and Kai would groan softly. Blood pooled and spilled in some places, only to be smeared by the wandering fingers.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” the lips were suddenly back on his ear, the voice still low and unrecognizable.

Kai, unwilling still to believe that this was happening, shook his head, staring straight up at the ceiling.

“Liar,” the other dug nails into Kai’s ribs sharply, drawing more blood and a pained whimper. “But, I’ll tell you anyway.”

In a quick movement, Kai’s captor had thrust his legs apart and knelt between them, hands braced on Kai’s hips painfully as he hovered mere inches from Kai’s face.

“I’m going to take something from you. Something you’ve been giving to someone who has never deserved it. That colorful prick should never have been allowed to touch you. Not the way I want to touch you.”

Kai felt his legs being moved again, his hips being resettled as his knees were bent and his feet placed flat against the bed.

“I’m going to take from you what you never would have willingly given.”

The drummer bit his tongue as the hand returned to his now hard shaft and squeezed hard, pumping him furiously. At the same time, he felt a burning sensation slightly lower as his captor thrust three dry fingers into his body. Kai wept silently, keeping his eyes open and willing his mind to go far away from his body. Anything to dull the pain that wracked him from the inside out. He felt the blood that now slicked his captor’s fingers slide out and onto the sheets, and his tears flowed faster.

The other laughed as the fingers were removed and replaced by something larger, harder, and by far more painful. Kai forgot the warning to stay quiet and voiced a cry of anguish, straining against his bonds. His captor closed both hands around his throat, applying light pressure. It wasn’t enough to cut off his air supply, but it was more than enough to cut off the next cry as he thrust savagely into the small drummer’s body.

Kai whimpered, tears burning trails down his face and into his ears. His hips jerked with every painful thrust, his insides burned at the savagery of the attack, but he kept quiet. One of the hands slid from his throat to claw at his chest and stomach again, drawing more blood from him. The other leaned down and licked a trail through the mess, groaning in ecstasy at the coppery tang. He leaned back and pressed his lips to Kai’s again, forcing him to taste his own blood. Kai fought to keep from gagging, fought to keep from biting and screaming.

He could tell when his attacker was nearing his end when the thrusts became sporadic, more savage, harder. Against his will, Kai felt his own climax nearing, and hated himself when it hit. He spilled his own seed across his stomach and chest, hissing as it hit the open cuts that riddled his midsection. His attacker laughed, the sound harsh and raspy.

“I never would have thought you’d actually get off on this,” he whispered, shifting Kai’s hips so the angle changed.

Kai opened his mouth in a silent scream as something deep inside of him was tapped, electricity shooting through his damaged body. His captor laughed again, thrusting harder and harder into the same spot until at last he stiffened, groaned, and released into Kai.

Still inside, his attacker braced himself on his hands over Kai, panting heavily. Kai could feel the breath ghosting across his skin. He silently prayed that the other would leave, just get up and walk away now. The other moved, moaning lightly as he removed himself from Kai and laid the drummers legs out straight. He left the bed and moved around in the darkness, still just out of range of the half melted candle on the table.

Kai was weary, so very weary. His eyes kept threatening to drift shut as his abused body cried out for regenerative sleep, but he forced them to remain open. He went rigid when he felt the other come back and something hard and cold pressed against his throat.

“Are you ready to die, Kai?”

Kai suddenly recognized the voice. Shock and despair bloomed in his mind.

“Ur-,” was all he managed before the blade cut deep.

 

---

 

Reaching out, the other turned on the lamp beside the bed. Kai’s eyes were wide, staring at him in shock and pain as his life bled from the cut in his throat. Recognition registered in those deep brown eyes, as well as pity as they stared up at his attacker. A small, sad smile curved those beautiful lips as the eyes began to dull. Crimson stains spread across the white sheets from the many bleeding wounds that crisscrossed Kai’s body.

Realization at what he had done slammed into the others mind. The knife fell from suddenly numb fingers as he stumbled back from the bed, staring at the blood. On the bed, dripping onto the floor now, on his hands, his clothes. Everywhere. Kai’s blood. Kai’s blood.

He had to get out.

He stumbled into the hall, lost his footing against the doorframe, fell, threw up on the floor, and collapsed. He stared stupidly at the hand that landed inches from his face, contemplating the blood that graced it like a glove.

Then, sweet blackness.

 

---

 

“Kai? Kai, are you home?”

Ruki dropped the keys into this pocket and entered the quiet apartment, Reita and Aoi on his heels. They’d never had to use the spare key to Kai’s apartment before, but when the band leader had failed to show up for practice, hadn’t called, and wasn’t answering the phone, they’d found good reason. What worried them more was the fact that Uruha seemed to be missing, too.

“Kai? Hey, it’s us!” Ruki called again, his voice echoing in the dead silence.

Reita and Aoi made their way into the kitchen and Ruki started toward the bedroom. The small light that was normally plugged in at the socket halfway down was out, but light spilled from the open bedroom doorway, illuminating a familiar figure sprawled on the floor.

“Rei! Aoi!” Ruki yelled, running forward. “Uruha? What the-?”

Ruki noted that Uruha was naked and covered in blood that didn’t seem to be his own. Ruki leapt over Uruha and into the bedroom, fear turning quickly to rage when he saw Kai’s prone figure still tied to the bed.

“Uruha?” he heard Aoi behind him. “What the hell? What happened? Is he hurt?”

Ruki flew to the bedside, ignoring Reita’s shout when he entered the room, ignoring Aoi’s pounding footsteps as he ran back to the kitchen to call for help. All Ruki saw was the blood. It was everywhere.

“Kai?” Ruki placed two fingers beneath Kai’s chin, praying to find a pulse. “Kai, come on. I know you’re still with me. Kai?”

There was a pulse, thready and weak, but it was there.

“Come on, Kai, you’re still there. Just hang on.”

He looked up and saw Aoi tackle Reita against the wall just as the bassist made a threatening move toward Uruha. They struggled there, Reita yelling curses at the still unconscious guitarist, Aoi with tears streaming down his face. Ignoring them once more, Ruki took hold of Kai’s cold hand, unwilling to disturb the scene too much, and continued to encourage Kai to hang on until help came.

 

---

 

4 Months Later

 

Kai smiled at Miyavi and gripped his hand tightly. He felt Ruki’s hand on his shoulder and knew that Aoi and Reita were sitting right behind him. He reached up to touch the scarf wrapped around his neck, hiding the scar from sight.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” his doctor said. “We can’t promise that we can fix this. We can’t say for absolute certain that this surgery will mend the damage that was done.”

Kai nodded, smiling at the doctor. Miyavi fidgeted next to him, but it was Ruki who spoke.

“We understand that, and we thank you for being honest with us,” he began, tightening his grip on Kai’s shoulder. “But we’ve discussed it, and Kai wants to go through with it. He’s certain, and we’ve gone over all the angles we can think of.”

The doctor nodded.

“Alright. We’ll schedule you as soon as possible, probably at the end of the week.”

Kai nodded again and stood. Miyavi wrapped an arm around the drummer’s waist and they left together, followed by Reita and Aoi. Ruki lingered.

“Doctor, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Will Uruha recover?”

“I’m not a psychologist-,” the doctor began.

“But you’re a doctor. Uruha wasn’t hurt. There wasn’t a mark on him. Why is he catatonic now? Why is he like that when Kai is alright?”

“Well,” the doctor settled himself with his elbows on his desk, looking directly at Ruki. “Kai can no longer speak because of the damage done to his vocal cords. Anyone else in his position might have withdrawn, avoided life and society. But, he’s had a strong network of friends and family that has supported him.”

Ruki nodded.

“Uruha, on the other hand, is overcome with guilt. His mind simply could not take what he had done, could not condone the violence of his act. Therefore, he seems to have gone into a state of catatonia until such a time when he’s ready to live with what he’s done. It’s kind of like a self induced coma that people go into when they’ve done something so… beyond their normal zone of comfort, to escape. As to whether he’ll recover or not, I can’t say. I’m sorry.”

Ruki stood and walked to the door. He stopped and looked back at the doctor, his eyes hard.

“If he never recovers, I think we’d all be okay with that. Because there are people who want to do to him what he did to Kai. I think Uruha’s better off in whatever hole he crawled into.”

He left the doctor in stunned silence.