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matrixrefugee) wrote2011-02-20 09:40 pm
matrixrefugee) wrote2011-02-20 09:40 pm
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10_shakespeare FIC] "Vampire's Confession" (PG-13)
Another fic for a challenge I'd almost forgotten about... I found the concept highly intriguing, and I couldn't resist picking it up, and playing with quotes from the Sonnets, which I love.
Title: "Vampire's Confession"
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
matrixrefugee
Fandom: Yami no Matsuei
Play/Lines: "And would corrupt my saint to be a devil", Sonnet 144: 7
Rating & Warnings: PG-13
Summary: During the St. Michel case, Tsuzuki gets a little too much information from one source who's a bit too willing to help... (Implied Muraki/Tsuzuki)
Tsuzuki adjusted the Roman collar about his neck. He hadn't minded taking the St. Michel case, except for having to take a crash course in Christianity, with the help of Peter, who handled the cases dealing with Christian souls. The old-school coat-style cassock looked great on him, but the collar itched him. Not that it mattered: he was supposed to be a young, recently ordained priest who still hadn't gotten into the habit (hee-hee!) of wearing it.
He was supposed to be offering counsel to the young men at the school, in case he could pick up any information that way. The seal of the confessional didn't apply here, since he wasn't really a priest. His cover was that the paperwork for his transfer had gone awry and they were waiting on the bishop's approval. It was probably a less than proper thing to do, but they couldn't stand on formality: they couldn't let more students die in such a horrific fashion.
He hated having to tell the boys that he couldn't give them absolution, the blessing of the Church which would cleanse the guilt from their souls, but he assured each one who approached the confessional that he would listen to them with an open mind and heart and offer what counsel they needed. The young men who passed through told him tales of the usual youthful misadventures. But some shared darker secrets: trouble at home from over-achieving or abusive parents, or struggles with their identity in areas that Tsuzuki himself had never fully come to terms with in his own lifetime. He offered what words of wisdom he could, even telling one youth of a pair of young men whom he knew, who had managed to base their life together on love, even though it wasn't a physical love. That seemed to give the young man some consolation and he left the confessional in a better frame of mind.
The curtain of the confessional rustled again, as someone drew it aside and he saw a tall, lean but broad-shouldered shadow kneel down behind the screen that divided the confessional. A man's voice, mellow but with a very slight nasal hum spoke from the other side of the screen, a voice that haunted Tsuzuki's thoughts and dreams.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, it has been five years since I made my last confession, and these are my sins...
"I...have been guilty of the deaths of dozens of people, at least sixty over the past five years. ...My patients, total strangers... women and young men whom I've seduced. I've cheated on my fiancee, sometimes on nights when I've taken a graveyard shift at the clinic where I'm on staff as a surgeon.
"It's as if there were something in me which drives me to do these things. I'm not hearing voices, but there is a hunger within me, something that craves the lives that I've taken..."
"H-have you considered consulting an exorcist? you sound as if you might have a demon within you," Tsuzuki replied, trying to sound as though he didn't know the man just inches away on the opposite side of the screen, hoping that he would not recognize his voice.
Muraki chuckled, the rich sound sending chills up Tsuzuki's spine even as he felt it cause his thighs to warm. "I didn't know that an onmyodo of your level was a Christian, much less a priest, Mister Tsuzuki," he said, amused.
"Cut the crap, Muraki, what are you doing here? are you stalking one of the students here?" Tsuzuki retorted.
"Hardly: I was a student here for a half term when I was fourteen, and I come back once a year to visit an old priest who was somewhat of a mentor to me," he replied.
"I never took you for a Christian: you must have snoozed through religion class when they covered the Fifth Commandment," Tsuzuki snipped back.
"It's questionable if the Ten Commandments even apply to someone like me," Muraki replied, casually. "Though I assure you, I was baptized and I find the energy in Catholic churches to be quite soothing."
"You still haven't answered my question: what are you doing in this place?"
"I was about to ask you the same question, Mister Tsuzuki," Muraki replied. "It's very odd that we should meet again, and in a place like this."
"Even if you asked it, I wouldn't answer it," Tsuzuki retorted.
"How unfortunate: I was about to offer my assistance in whatever case has brought you here, but from your tone, it appears that you really have no interest in what insights I might have to offer," Muraki replied, shifting as if he might rise and depart.
"Your fees are too stiff, Muraki. Besides, we're in a church in a Catholic school. Don't you start thinking I've forgotten about what you tried to pull on me, on the Queen Camellia
"You were still enjoying my attentions, I could taste it on you," Muraki purred.
"Enough, dammit!"
"Such language, and in a holy place, no less," Muraki replied, pretending to be horrified.
He had to be rid of this nuisance, this literal noon-day devil. "Give me your word: you won't bother Hisoka or any other young man here, bur you can do what you want to me as long as it doesn't take place on the school grounds. Just tell me what you know about the weird things that are going on in this school."
"To be perfectly honest, I'm still trying to put a name to what it could be myself: it's been an irritant since I arrived here, but whatever it is, it has been veiling itself even from my intense perceptions," Muraki replied. "But I would advise against going near the ocean as long as you're here and until you've exorcised it. I've sensed its presence the most intensely while I was walking along the terrace overlooking the sea."
"How do I know that you aren't just stringing me along?" Tsuzuki grumbled.
"Still refusing to believe anything that I might have to say? You wound me, Mister Tsuzuki, you wound me to the core," Muraki said, rising and starting to lift the curtain, letting in a sliver of light. "I'm staying in the same hotel room which you searched when you were tracking down the unfortunate Miss Maria Wong. I'll be expecting you at midnight: please don't disappoint me by keeping me waiting. Who knows? I might have something more useful for you by then."
"Don't count on it."
"I wonder, though, if I might not be the only dark creature that craves your attention, Mister Tsuzuki," Muraki said.
"Just get going: I have other people to interview," Tsuzuki said, rummaging in his sleeve for his handkerchief and using it to blot the back of his neck, which had suddenly grown very warm.
"Your penitents await you, but I wonder just what they would think if they knew that their confessor was harboring sins of lust in his soul, desiring a man, no less."
The curtain rose and Muraki's lean shadow made its exit. Tsuzuki trembled with anger and fear at what he had agreed to: he knew that he had to honor that agreement, but he dreaded what would happen when he kept his word to Muraki.
The curtain lifted again and the kneeler creaked as another penitent knelt down. "Father Tsuzuki, are you all right? It sounded like you were arguing with that pale man who just came out," a young man's voice asked, concerned.
"Oh, I'm fine: no need to worry about me, my child," he said, pulling himself back together. "Some people's cases are harder than others, and his is an especially difficult one. Pray for his soul: he needs a good deal of grace to heal him..."
Title: "Vampire's Confession"
Author:
matrixrefugeeFandom: Yami no Matsuei
Play/Lines: "And would corrupt my saint to be a devil", Sonnet 144: 7
Rating & Warnings: PG-13
Summary: During the St. Michel case, Tsuzuki gets a little too much information from one source who's a bit too willing to help... (Implied Muraki/Tsuzuki)
Tsuzuki adjusted the Roman collar about his neck. He hadn't minded taking the St. Michel case, except for having to take a crash course in Christianity, with the help of Peter, who handled the cases dealing with Christian souls. The old-school coat-style cassock looked great on him, but the collar itched him. Not that it mattered: he was supposed to be a young, recently ordained priest who still hadn't gotten into the habit (hee-hee!) of wearing it.
He was supposed to be offering counsel to the young men at the school, in case he could pick up any information that way. The seal of the confessional didn't apply here, since he wasn't really a priest. His cover was that the paperwork for his transfer had gone awry and they were waiting on the bishop's approval. It was probably a less than proper thing to do, but they couldn't stand on formality: they couldn't let more students die in such a horrific fashion.
He hated having to tell the boys that he couldn't give them absolution, the blessing of the Church which would cleanse the guilt from their souls, but he assured each one who approached the confessional that he would listen to them with an open mind and heart and offer what counsel they needed. The young men who passed through told him tales of the usual youthful misadventures. But some shared darker secrets: trouble at home from over-achieving or abusive parents, or struggles with their identity in areas that Tsuzuki himself had never fully come to terms with in his own lifetime. He offered what words of wisdom he could, even telling one youth of a pair of young men whom he knew, who had managed to base their life together on love, even though it wasn't a physical love. That seemed to give the young man some consolation and he left the confessional in a better frame of mind.
The curtain of the confessional rustled again, as someone drew it aside and he saw a tall, lean but broad-shouldered shadow kneel down behind the screen that divided the confessional. A man's voice, mellow but with a very slight nasal hum spoke from the other side of the screen, a voice that haunted Tsuzuki's thoughts and dreams.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, it has been five years since I made my last confession, and these are my sins...
"I...have been guilty of the deaths of dozens of people, at least sixty over the past five years. ...My patients, total strangers... women and young men whom I've seduced. I've cheated on my fiancee, sometimes on nights when I've taken a graveyard shift at the clinic where I'm on staff as a surgeon.
"It's as if there were something in me which drives me to do these things. I'm not hearing voices, but there is a hunger within me, something that craves the lives that I've taken..."
"H-have you considered consulting an exorcist? you sound as if you might have a demon within you," Tsuzuki replied, trying to sound as though he didn't know the man just inches away on the opposite side of the screen, hoping that he would not recognize his voice.
Muraki chuckled, the rich sound sending chills up Tsuzuki's spine even as he felt it cause his thighs to warm. "I didn't know that an onmyodo of your level was a Christian, much less a priest, Mister Tsuzuki," he said, amused.
"Cut the crap, Muraki, what are you doing here? are you stalking one of the students here?" Tsuzuki retorted.
"Hardly: I was a student here for a half term when I was fourteen, and I come back once a year to visit an old priest who was somewhat of a mentor to me," he replied.
"I never took you for a Christian: you must have snoozed through religion class when they covered the Fifth Commandment," Tsuzuki snipped back.
"It's questionable if the Ten Commandments even apply to someone like me," Muraki replied, casually. "Though I assure you, I was baptized and I find the energy in Catholic churches to be quite soothing."
"You still haven't answered my question: what are you doing in this place?"
"I was about to ask you the same question, Mister Tsuzuki," Muraki replied. "It's very odd that we should meet again, and in a place like this."
"Even if you asked it, I wouldn't answer it," Tsuzuki retorted.
"How unfortunate: I was about to offer my assistance in whatever case has brought you here, but from your tone, it appears that you really have no interest in what insights I might have to offer," Muraki replied, shifting as if he might rise and depart.
"Your fees are too stiff, Muraki. Besides, we're in a church in a Catholic school. Don't you start thinking I've forgotten about what you tried to pull on me, on the Queen Camellia
"You were still enjoying my attentions, I could taste it on you," Muraki purred.
"Enough, dammit!"
"Such language, and in a holy place, no less," Muraki replied, pretending to be horrified.
He had to be rid of this nuisance, this literal noon-day devil. "Give me your word: you won't bother Hisoka or any other young man here, bur you can do what you want to me as long as it doesn't take place on the school grounds. Just tell me what you know about the weird things that are going on in this school."
"To be perfectly honest, I'm still trying to put a name to what it could be myself: it's been an irritant since I arrived here, but whatever it is, it has been veiling itself even from my intense perceptions," Muraki replied. "But I would advise against going near the ocean as long as you're here and until you've exorcised it. I've sensed its presence the most intensely while I was walking along the terrace overlooking the sea."
"How do I know that you aren't just stringing me along?" Tsuzuki grumbled.
"Still refusing to believe anything that I might have to say? You wound me, Mister Tsuzuki, you wound me to the core," Muraki said, rising and starting to lift the curtain, letting in a sliver of light. "I'm staying in the same hotel room which you searched when you were tracking down the unfortunate Miss Maria Wong. I'll be expecting you at midnight: please don't disappoint me by keeping me waiting. Who knows? I might have something more useful for you by then."
"Don't count on it."
"I wonder, though, if I might not be the only dark creature that craves your attention, Mister Tsuzuki," Muraki said.
"Just get going: I have other people to interview," Tsuzuki said, rummaging in his sleeve for his handkerchief and using it to blot the back of his neck, which had suddenly grown very warm.
"Your penitents await you, but I wonder just what they would think if they knew that their confessor was harboring sins of lust in his soul, desiring a man, no less."
The curtain rose and Muraki's lean shadow made its exit. Tsuzuki trembled with anger and fear at what he had agreed to: he knew that he had to honor that agreement, but he dreaded what would happen when he kept his word to Muraki.
The curtain lifted again and the kneeler creaked as another penitent knelt down. "Father Tsuzuki, are you all right? It sounded like you were arguing with that pale man who just came out," a young man's voice asked, concerned.
"Oh, I'm fine: no need to worry about me, my child," he said, pulling himself back together. "Some people's cases are harder than others, and his is an especially difficult one. Pray for his soul: he needs a good deal of grace to heal him..."