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Slash and Yaoi Fiction
Title: This is War
Author: Juxian Tang
Fandom: Zetsuai/Bronze
Pairing: Koji/Akihito, implied Hirose/Akihito
Rating: NC-17
Warning: rape, incest, references to underage abuse
Status: complete
Feedback: juxiantang@hotmail.com
URL: http://juxian.slashcity.net
Timing: set after Bronze 11
Summary: Koji gets his revenge on amnesic Akihito for what happened to Izumi.
The art is drawn by InvisibleInk


He lay on his side, his legs pulled up to his chest slackly, neither hiding the obscenity of his exposed genitals and gaping, still open anus, nor protecting him from anything that I could want to do to him. The twist of his arms, with his wrists cuffed behind his back, was painfully unnatural, the strain making his bare shoulder, revealed by the crumpled shirt, tremble thinly.

His ribs fluttered, too, with uneven, shuddering breaths he took. In the past fifteen minutes as I stood and looked at him, he passed from violent shivers racking his body just to fine tremors. He didn't cry, though. Even when I'd fucked him and his gasps sounded all the way like sobbing and he tossed his head from side to side on the floor as if he was just on the verge of screaming, his eyes stayed tearless. It was good - I probably would've killed him if he'd dared cry; tears were not for him. Seeing tears spill from his eyes would desecrate the idea of crying itself.

As it was, I managed to keep myself from damaging him too badly.

I slid my gaze over his ribcage, noting the purple blossoms of bruises coming through the paleness of his skin. His ribs had felt so thin and brittle under my fist, so easy to fracture. He was all like that - frail, lilting, breakable, stealing - almost like a specter, not a person of flesh and blood. A specter - a demon; the evil that needed to be destroyed. And he was of flesh and blood all right - who knew it better than me, with his flesh giving in under my fist and my cock and his blood still drying slowly on my skin?

The dull flame of his hair was spread on the floor around his face. With his long bangs tossed away, not shielding half of his face, he looked different from how I used to see him - almost a stranger, not my brother whom I knew so well. Perhaps it was my mistake that I thought I knew him; I thought I knew him enough to despise him - while I really should've bewared him.

He knew I was looking at him; he felt my eyes - but his gaze didn't lock on mine, wandering somewhere, over the faintly scintillating lamps on the ceiling or over the dark window with the impenetrable wall of rain behind it. I saw his throat move as if he was going to say something - but he didn't; he probably just swallowed blood. There were two smeared trickles of red running from his nose - and there must've been more blood in his mouth, after I'd hit him repeatedly. I'd tasted this blood when I kissed him; salty, warm and so abundant that I could've drunk it from his mouth.

His lips were split; I wasn't sure if I'd done it with my teeth or with the knuckles of my hand. It made his mouth look soft and throbbing tender; I thought I'd take him in his mouth as well - maybe, not the next time but a while later. It didn't matter if it would please me; all I cared about was that it was going to hurt him. Every single thing that was possible to do for it - I was intended to do it.

The carpet under him was getting soaked - red turning into dark on grey, a stain spreading slowly but definitely. Part of it was blood, part my come. His own semen dried on his belly. He'd come some time while I was inside him, although nothing I did constituted any kind of pleasure for him. He probably couldn't help it; his body and his mind were body and mind of a whore and he reacted correspondingly.

I remembered how our father told me that about him; then, after I'd seen him and Aki in his office.

//"He's not like you or Hirose, you see, Koji. I wouldn't ever do it to you, would I? I do it to him because he has it in him. He's a good-for-nothing, worthless whore - that's why I use him like one. And he likes it, did you notice?"//

I hadn't noticed, telling the truth - or, rather, I was too little to understand even if I had. All I remembered were strange, high-pitched cries I heard from behind the door; and my father's low voice that somehow managed to sound the most menacing at its most quiet, saying the words that I knew were bad and dirty but he said them as if he had the right to.

I was never afraid of my father, so, I walked in. And there, on the table, I saw them - Aki in the cradle of my father's arms, his slight body almost covered by my father's bulk - but not completely, leaving enough for me to see Aki's grey kimono unlaced and pooled around him... and the startling whiteness of Aki's naked chest, the thin, stark contours of his heaving ribcage...

He hadn't wept then, either. He gave out a strangled shriek at every slamming motion my father made - but his eyes were dry and bright. And the expression on his face as he heard my steps and turned his head to me was the one I'd seen so many times before and after that - of pure, uncompromising hatred.

Years later, remembering this scene, I thought it was what my father saw in Aki's face that made him look at me. He probably couldn't hear me behind his own panting and too far gone into the steady motions of his pelvis; but he stared at Aki's face unblinkingly all through that, maybe, could see nothing but his face.

So, when Aki turned away, my father looked, too. No, I was never afraid of him - maybe, just slightly miffed by the glazed look of his eyes.

//"Koji..."// His voice was breathless and still there was no unkindness in it. //"Go away."//

So, I turned and walked away; I didn't always disobey then.

And I wasn't sure if I really had seen - or if the picture was projected to me later, after the conversation with my father and the explanation he gave me - of my father's hand between Aki's thighs, roughly jerking off the reddened, hard cock of my brother.

Aki had always been very slight; at thirteen I was the same tall as him - and now I was taller - and stronger. So, tonight it didn't take me much to overpower him, even with one arm - but the truth was he didn't even put much of a fight. In the empty office he sat quietly on the edge of the chair, his hands folded on his lap, looking up at me just once, to ask:

"When will Hirose come back?"

And then, when I'd come up to him and seized his wrists and pulled him up on his feet - he just struggled for a few seconds, then going lax and compliant even before the first blow. I hit him not to make him obey - I hit him because I wanted to; because it let out only a minor fraction of the anger that boiled inside me.

He didn't fight - and he didn't say a word, didn't ask or argue when I toppled him over on the floor. It surprised me; it infuriated me, too. With all those years behind us, with his hatred and attempts to destroy me - I would've thought he would mind it more - my hand yanking his pants off, my knee forcing his legs apart.

But he just took it, the trembling of his body the only indication that he understood what happened to him. He had this look in his eyes - like he was not surprised or shocked, like he'd always known something like this would happen. Like he almost recognized me when I looked down at him, pressing my knees on his groin to keep his legs open.

His dark eyelashes - for the first time I noticed how improbably long, how girlish they were - flew up and down as he pulled on his arms slightly, as if puzzled with the metal of cuffs around his wrists. The puzzlement was gone when I hit him straight in the face; and when I entered him, hurting myself about as badly as him during the act, only pain stayed.

Now there still was pain, too, in the widening of his pupils, in the trembling of his lips as he moved his legs slightly, trying to curl more compactly. But without my cock inside him, without my body crushing him down and my fist battering his face, it must've been subsiding. And it was not the pain that made Aki's gaze nearly unrecognizable for me. The vulnerability that shone through the darkness of his eyes was what I hadn't seen before - what I hadn't thought I'd ever see in the eyes of my bad, mad, wretched brother.

As if his soul lay bare and ready for everyone to touch, impossible to protect - just beneath the surface of those eyes.

Soul... Did he even have a soul? I clenched my fists; I felt the fingernails entering the flesh of one of my hands - and the other hand was clenching emptiness on emptiness.

My brothers! My brothers who entered my life only to destroy anything in it that I cherished. I'd given my arm when Hirose had defiled Izumi... What part of my body could I give now, when my other brother had broken the man I loved more than I loved myself? There was no part of me good enough to redeem it. So, I had to destroy him; to secure that it would be impossible for him to do it again.

And even when I looked at Aki's lips quiver pathetically as if he tried to say something - and saw another trickle of blood run out of the corner of his mouth - I still could see not him but my angel with broken wings, my Izumi, leaning heavily against me as I helped him to move. Izumi, who'd always been all strength and swiftness and wilderness, was reduced to careful motions and need of assistance now.

All because of him.


I could feel how my voice reached him, pierced like a hook into his consciousness, tugged the response. The misery in his eyes rippled as he nodded, acknowledging me.

"Tell me why I do it to you." I'd explained it to him before - while sending my fist into the softness of his lips and fragile hardness of the bridge of his nose. He just had to repeat it now.

He coughed; I saw him wince with the pain in his ribs and wondered if I did fracture them - and then he said in a voice that I'd never heard him talk in, a voice he'd probably talked only a very long time ago, before I knew him, before his father chose him for his whore:

"Because... you inherited the house. My father left it to you... And I belong to you now, too."

No, wrong! I wanted to him to pay for saying that; the image of the toe-cap of my boot sinking into his unprotected groin was intoxicatingly clear in my mind. But I didn't want to damage him too much.

Oh, so he pretended he didn't understand what I meant; he pretended he didn't remember what I'd said, what he'd done. I was not going to let it slip - to let him get away just with the memories he chose himself - while the reality of my lover being crippled and future-less was to stay with me every day.

"No, Akihito. I do it because of what you have done to Izumi."

I watched him hard at the sound of Izumi's name - and saw his gaze going spacey, unfocused. Like he didn't know what I was talking about.

For that, I'd like to kill him. He'd mutilated my beloved, the man who was worthy a million times more than him - and now he even didn't remember that?

I watched his lower lip tremble slightly as he braced himself to talking again. I remembered the softness and salt of this lip crushed between my teeth - and small thrashing of his body at this pain, the faint sound he made in my mouth, his staring eyes so close to my face.

I remembered him having the split lip so often through the years as I grew from a baby to a child and he grew from a child to a teen; a special mark left on him. My father probably liked to clench his teeth on Aki's mouth as well.

His voice was quiet and faltering as he talked:

"Will Hirose come for me?"

I noticed that: now it was 'will he', not 'when'.

"I don't think so," I said. "He left you here, didn't he?"

I knew he remembered this much - even though, maybe, already forgot his own near-despair as he watched Hirose walk away.


Had he hoped for another touch, for Hirose look back at him once more? I watched my eldest brother leave, his walk unfaltering, his back as straight as always.

"He made a right decision," I said to Aki.

It probably would be too incomprehensive for him even if I started explaining - all the sleepless nights while I tried to come up with a answer, with a solution that would keep me and what I loved safe from the destruction brought by my family. Nothing of it was important enough, anyway. All that was important was just one phrase I said to Hirose - and perhaps for the first time in my life I knew my brother got afraid of me.

"Give him up - or I'll destroy you."

In the past, when Aki had been his worthless but at least marginally intelligent self, he would probably realize how easily I could do it; I had the means for that - I had inherited the fortune, after all.

But now he didn't know anything; and it was enough that Hirose realized the implications. And, after all, it was Hirose's decision to make, intended to hurt him as much as it was going to hurt Aki.

I remembered the paleness of Hirose's face - the face so much like my own, more then than ever, since sleepless nights hadn't marked it yet as they marked mine - when he understood what I meant. Even his lips went white... and his eyes became black.

"What do you want to do?" he asked. I was not going to make a secret out of it.

"I have to punish him."

"You don't understand... he's not like he'd been, he doesn't remember..."

He shouldn't have bothered with bringing up this argument. It didn't matter; I knew my brother for what he was - a vessel of evil; Aki had always been that, he'd always be that. Unless I stop him.

"Please don't make me do it, Koji," he begged me. He probably thought it was enough to ask me nicely - and all would be forgiven. "Please back up."

Hirose didn't know what he asked for. I couldn't back up; even if I wanted to - and I didn't. I couldn't back up and listen to Izumi's breath turning into ragged, broken sobs as another nightmare seized him; or worse than that - listen to him lying sleepless in the dark and pretending to breathe evenly - and know that it was not me in his mind at the moment but the ball that he'd never roll across the football field again.

I'd given Hirose a month since our first conversation. I watched his every move since then - and I tightened the ring around him slowly, just to remind him what I expected. When he'd sent his wife and child away to Europe, it almost looked like I couldn't be sure in my victory - almost like Hirose was going to give up everything.

But, of course, in the end he'd chosen right.

Once I asked him, while he still hesitated, what was taking him so long - and seeing how the smoothness of his haughty face cracked made my heart skip a bit. For the first time I'd known him, Hirose looked away, almost whispering the answer:

"I can't... betray him again."

Again? For this word, I wanted to hurt him more than for anything else, to see blood mar his lips - but I bit my tongue, restraining myself. Didn't I know that there were things worse than physical pain?

Again... With me, he'd never hesitate before hurting me again, trying to break me again, twisting me into what he wanted me to be... Why did he have to be so... considerate about Aki?

"Just like you betrayed him when you went overseas?"

I saw his head jerk, as if I did hit him - and knowing that I hurt him as much as he'd hurt me was almost as good as the taste of my blood on my lips. He looked as if my voice had a force, made him step back.

"What, Hirose? You didn't know I knew it?"

How old was I when it happened? Too little, anyway, to know, hear and see things like this. Like that night when I stood on my balcony and looked down to the garden - and Hirose, in his shirt half-unbuttoned, his hair a mess and his face especially unguarded with no glasses, tried to light a cigarette under my balcony with shaking hands.

//"So."// I heard my father's sharp, mocking voice from the shadows and saw how Hirose nearly jumped up. Everyone jumped up when hearing my father; except me. //"Did he make a move on you?"//

The lighter gave out the flame at last, illuminating Hirose's tight-lipped face for a few moments. He didn't answer.

//"I knew he'd do it, sooner or later,"// my father added. //"It's what he is - a whore. And how old is he? Twelve? Think what will be with him a few years later."//

The night was moonless - so, when Hirose shook his head, our father probably didn't see it; but I always could see perfectly in the darkness.

//"He's always clinging to you; you should've expected that,"// my father said. Hirose didn't nod at that, even though it was the truth, plain and simple. //"I am afraid he might affect you or Koji. I don't want you to be like him."//

I saw Hirose raise his head suddenly, as if a thought struck him while he tried to meet my father's gaze.

//"I want to go to study, to the USA,"// he said.

A pause was long and all through it I hoped, I knew my father would say: 'Stop this folly, you don't go anywhere.' Then he said:

//"You shall go."//

I saw Hirose bow his head in gratitude as my father turned away.

//"Where is he?"//

//"In my room. I left him there after he... he..."//

//"I understand, son."// And, being already in the doorway, my father looked back for one more phrase. //"Stop smoking, Hirose, I don't approve it."//

I didn't know if Hirose remembered how he stubbed his cigarette hastily, without taking another drag. I remembered. And if I could throw this memory back in his face, I wanted to do that...

"You are right, Koji," Hirose said. "Just like then."

I couldn't ever imagine that his quiet voice could hurt my ears like this - but it did. How dared he acknowledge what I'd said? How dared he admit his guilt in front of this... this murderer, this whore, this loser! How could he...

"You fuck him." I felt an ugly grin tug on my mouth as the understanding struck me. The dirty word hovered in the air - but it was right, it was a correct word for what he was doing.

I thought he would deny it - the pause he made was long enough for me to add:

"Now it's different, isn't it? Now you don't reject him. And he - he'll still do anything to get you to fuck him!"

"Yes," he said again; and continued what I didn't need to hear, the words I wouldn't forgive him saying even if I ever thought about forgiving the rest. "I wanted it to be different for him this time. Since he doesn't remember so much... Another beginning. Clean slate."

I hadn't known then that Hirose was wrong - there were things Aki remembered.

But in the end all that was just bullshit and lies. Because in the end Hirose told me he would do what I wanted him to. He always knew what was good for him, my brother.

I thought about them last night, them all alone in Hirose's dark house. He said he was going to Europe next day, let the servants go. It had to be just them, in the dark bedroom. I could almost see them in my mind's eye - Aki's pale body on the dark sheets, the spill of his copper hair, his body arching towards Hirose's kiss. The silence of the empty house broken by the whispers and moans of their love-making.

I wished at that moment I could find Izumi's hand and hold it; but I didn't want to let him know I wasn't asleep and knew he wasn't asleep either. And the pictures that my mind prompted me, so real that I almost didn't doubt it was all just like that - they demanded me to witness them alone.

But now Hirose was gone and my revenge was being accomplished.

"He gave you to me," I said.

I saw Aki shake his head, the red wing of his hair brushing against his cheek. The expression in his eyes made me feel choking with anger. Through pain, there was hope there - as if he expected that his denial could make me take my words back.

"Yes, he did," I said calmly.

I watched how he closed his eyes tightly, his eyelashes trembling; his mouth quivered and I wanted to slap him, to make him stop these attempts of talking and not saying a word. I didn't want his weakness. I wanted him to be gone, not to exist any more, to be destroyed.

There could be no forgiveness for what he'd done. I had to eliminate him or I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I had to prove it that I was not like him, not like my brothers... They started the war against me - but I was going to win.

"Did you think he'd really need you, Akihito? In a state you are in, you're a danger and a burden. How long do you think Hirose could put up with you? It was just a matter of time for you to wind up in a mental asylum, anyway."

These words got to him, I could see it. His face became desperate at last, as it hadn't been even when I'd pushed my way into him, tearing the entrance into his body with my cock. I trailed my gaze along the angular line of his body, from collar-bone to hip - so boyish narrow, so smooth and pale except for the traces I'd left on him. And if I closed my eyes for a moment, I could almost see Hirose's long fingers running over his body, tracing the brittle lines of the ribcage, turning the pink of Aki's nipples into red and hard.

That's why I didn't close my eyes.

"Call for him if you don't believe me," I said. "Perhaps he hears you and comes to save you."

Hirose had never done it. Never through all whispered and cried out 'Aniki' of my childhood. I recalled how once, so many years ago, I walked into the shower accidentally once to find Aki on the floor there, under the hot streams of water as with pink trickles running from between his legs. That time he didn't see me, thankfully - his hands covered his face as he rocked on the floor, this only word coming from his lips, a cry for help that was as hopeless as a prayer could've been.

And now Hirose was on the plane, putting miles and miles between himself and what he left behind.


I made a few steps forward and knelt. Aki's lips under my thumb were soft and hot, the dried splits reopening under my touch. I didn't know if it hurt - his look was mesmerized, absorbed.

But he knew what was going to happen.

And he was right about it, even if I didn't really want him. I'd never wanted him - not even when my father grew older and sicker and Aki slunk home in the small hours, his shirt button-less, almost demonstratively not hiding the traces of teeth on his neck and chest, his wrists black and blue with bruises and his body reeking with sex while his smile was even crazier than ever, if it was possible.

He was my brother; my brother whom I first loathed and now hated - and even the feeling of his smooth cheek, feverish hot under the tips of my fingers, didn't change it.

But it didn't matter. I could make my body work the way I needed it to.

I intertwined my fingers through his hair, leaning down to his, putting my tongue into his mouth. It was hardly a kiss, more a proof that I could do it to him, as well as I could do anything else.

I felt my lips get wet with blood as I withdrew from him; but my lips defiled him as much as touching him defiled me. I touched him when all I wanted was to be with my wild-eyed angel... I wanted Izumi; I wanted Aki nowhere near to me, wanted neither of my brothers in my life. But they had interfered - and I had to fight back, fight for my life, for what was dear for me.

I felt the trembling of Aki's body reverberate through mine as I settled next to him. His ankle was so thin in my grip, reminding me other times when I had to hold down those who didn't want to comply with me. But this time it was different - he didn't even struggle, like he knew he didn't have a chance against me.

I raised his leg and entered him. This time it was easy, wet and yielding. I didn't need to hurt myself any more. He shuddered against me when my groin pressed against his perineum. I interlaced my fingers with the chain between the cuffs, pulling him closer.

It was getting through to me, I couldn't deny it - the tightness, the heat of him enveloping me. Between my legs, he made me feel good. But in my mind I hated him as much as before. I knew what he was and why I was doing it. Defenseless, mindless, he still was the plague - the wrong that I needed to eliminate before it consumed my life.

I pulled out and shoved back, with the angle that couldn't be pleasant for him in any way. But it couldn't help. I knew how he would react, even if he didn't expect it himself. As I reached between his legs and found the softness of his cock, I knew it was not for long.

He hardened in my grip, under the jerking, mauling movements of my hand. His breath became soft, small whimpering sounds, of pleasure indistinguishable from pain, as I kept thrusting into him.

He'd come right before I did, his warm semen coating my fingers as his body convulsed slightly against me. There was no more joy, I knew, in what he felt than in what I felt, keeping slamming inside him with steady rhythm.

I could've closed my eyes and let it go, let memories or fantasies flood me, let myself see him and Hirose nestled together in a wide bed, Aki's crimson hair mixed with Hirose's colorless one. But I didn't. I kept staring at Aki's blank, waxen face as I reached my climax.

My cock trailed blood over his thigh and on the floor as I withdrew from him.

"Do you think it's enough, Aki?" I asked. I hadn't called him this way for so long, with this shortened name, not after once or twice I'd tried it when being a kid - and when he let me know what he thought about it. He didn't seem to mind now.

He turned his face to me as I talked. His lips became bluish, I noticed, and it frightened me suddenly, unreasonably, making me clasp my hand on his shoulder, ready to shake him back into responsiveness if he was going to pass out on me.

In the huge pupils of his eyes I could see my reflection, the fierceness of my own stare demanding the answer. His lips trembled as if he tried to answer me.

"It's enough, Koji."

I turned around, the room suddenly swinging around me - and I didn't even notice I felt dizzy. The door was open, the brighter square of light from the corridor into the dimly lit room. Hirose stood there, the coat draped over his shoulders, the rim of his glasses like the lines of ice on his face.

"I thought you left," I said.

"I almost did."

"You made a mistake by not leaving."

"Perhaps." He stepped in and I knew the next thing he would say a moment before he actually said it. "Get away from him."

"You're sure?" I asked because I knew he expected me to. "You are ready to forfeit everything you have - for him? You broke your promise, you know, Hirose - so, we're back where we started."

He didn't answer, walked past me, knelt.


I shrugged putting it in his palm. I didn't care what he was going to do. Everything was as I knew it was going to be. And I didn't care, was too tired to care.

I watched Hirose hold Aki up, checking his raw wrists and bruised ribs with light fingers. His face when he looked up at me was frozen and coldly furious.

"You don't pull the punches, do you, Koji? Do you even consider your strength?"

I knew my lips curved in a smile but I didn't feel it. The rain behind the window kept pouring, the cold flood of water in the darkness. The trickles of tears ran from under Aki's eyelashes.

Now he was crying. In the ring of Hirose's arms, pressing to his chest, he kept his eyes closed and cried soundlessly.

At least he was not whining, as always - 'Aniki, Aniki...', I thought absently. There was no feeling in this thought - but there was no feeling at all in me at the moment.

Had I lost this battle? Perhaps it didn't matter; all that mattered there were casualties - and here I could keep the score.

Hirose wrapped his coat around Aki and pulled him up on his feet. I thought that even if he possibly could stand, he still wouldn't be able to walk - and Hirose seemed to understand it as well. And as he took Aki in his arms and walked to the door, I said:

"It's not the end."

"It's not the end, Koji," he nodded.

There is no one
to show these poems to
Do not call a friend to witness
what you must do alone
These are my ashes
I do not intend to save you any work
by keeping silent
You are not yet as strong as I am
You believe me
but I do not believe you
This is war
You are here to be destroyed

This is war by Leonard Cohen


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