Reality's hold [Jiro, Open]

[Alexander Mirit]

Coruscant - Night


People were going to think he was some kind of vampire if he kept up only going out during the night. It appealed to him more, especially on a raving night planet such as this one. He had inhabited a small apartment on the upside of town for a while and had grown quite accustom to sleeping in all day and strolling, partying (if you could call it that), and sleeping some more for the remainder of the night. It was life and as surely as everything else did, it grew boring after a while.

Tonight started out as any other night did. He dressed himself in a loose fitting white shirt, baggy black cargo pants, a long trench coat, and combat boots. A natural look that didn't stand out. By no means did he want to lure any unwanted attention. He had come to this planet to fade in with the rest of the species dwelling here, and it had been working quite nicely up until recently.

Security, which had, on several occasions, been very lax, had tightened and he always seemed to feel burning eyes on his back. Quite annoying, especially when trying to bathe.

It was already 11:00 by the time he swaggered out of his apartment, tucking his leather wallet into the back pocket of his pants. Again, the burning sensation of eyes upon his back was felt. This time, however, the threat seemed minimal. He smiled and walked a few blocks before he felt the soft tug at his pocket.

His movements were slicked with grace. A swift turn brought him to confront the young but handsome pick pocket and yet another step had them both tucked deep within the shadows of a crevice slant alley way. One hand slithered upward to cup the boy's throat, the black leather of his gloves sheened by the sharp curve of finger armor, his other hand having captured the wrist connecting arm and hand clasping the bill fold.

"Quite impressive, dear boy. You should be careful who you touch. They just might decide to touch back, ne?"

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro Lawson's day had not started out well. He had not seen his brother that morning when he had left thier apartment and had not seen him again when he had gone back around lunch time. Taro had a way of disappearing, and now that he had a fiancee, they were even more prone to simply go away and not be around for hours on end. Not that Jiro really minded much, but he wasn't enjoying going out on his own to pick pocket.

Jiro had said he was going to stop stealing from people. It wasn't any way to live, and had gotten him in jail before. But for some reason, when he was pressed between people on a crowded street, or in a dance club swapping sweat with someone he didn't know, Jiro had to take thier wallets, thier credits or anything they had in thier pockets. Today had been no different.

Until he had chosen the wrong person to pick from. Again.

The man was slender and didn't stick out, or at least not anymore than anyone else going along the dark street to thier respective destinations. Jiro had been leisurely strolling towards a club he often haunted just because it was the only one that played Japanese music that he could understand to a complete T. But when the man had slid from a door, Jiro couldn't help but want to tail him. It was the pick pocket instinct in him.

However, he had gotten sloppy, his attention being broken momentarily and the man had detected him, and now he was all but pinned by the man, his attractive face near to Jiro's his eyes sparkling unnaturally at him.

Quite impressive, dear boy. You should be careful who you touch. They just might decide to touch back, ne?

Jiro moved his head to a more favorable position, grasping the man's wrist with one of his hands, eyeing him. Jiro took in his close appearance quickly before flicking his eyes back to his face. Jiro tried to move away, but couldn't see much else but the outline of the man in front of him, and didn't want to have his escape plan foiled by tripping over something.

"Gomen," he said, looking the man back in the eyes. "Gomenasai."

[Alexander Mirit]

"How disappointing." He sighed softly, releasing the younger boy gently. He was in no mood for death this night, unless the receiver was truly deserving of it. He doubted that anyone in this city was really worthy of death's sweet embrace. An endless sleep. He became tired and slumped forward, his head resting on Jiro's shoulder.

"I was hoping for a bit more spark than that." He mumbled out, tilting his head slightly to the side, as so he could gaze up at him. Eyes of pure silver shone like a beacon through the darkness that encased them, tumbling over the handsome features that made up the pick pocket's face. Interesting enough, he supposed. Quite a relief from the usual trash that groped at his pockets.

He was quiet for a long while, simply assessing his prey, his finger armor hovering ever close to Jiro's stomach. One false move and..

"You drink, I take it? Ah well, it doesn't really matter. You're coming with me." He said merrily, thrusting away from the boy. He strolled down the length of the alley and stepped into the light, given off by the ever flickering commercial signs.

The light hit his face, reflecting a ginger-cat smile and piercings that lined his lower lip. The intensity of his eyes seemed to grow beneath the burning twinkle of fluctuating signs, expressed by the narrow slash of his brows and trimmed hair.

"Come along, m'boy."

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro's body heat grew slightly in the cool dampness of the alley as the man's forehead touched his shoulder, his hand close to Jiro's stomach. This was so awkward, yet for some reason, Jiro felt completely at home.

Spark? Spark! The man was looking for spark in a seventeen year old who had just tried to pick his pocket when it was obvious that the man whose pocket he had invaded was sly and probably stronger than he. Jiro had not expected this kind of reaction from the man, it was out of place indeed, and Jiro was in a strange way interested in what the man was going to do next.

The offer to drink with him, or more, the demand to drink with him made Jiro's eyebrows pop. What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he really that hard up for company? Jiro blinked several times, before smiling and shaking his head.

"No thanks, man...I um..." but he couldn't say what he was planning to when he saw the man's face thrown into shadow, half in light, half in darkness, his sharp features accented by the ever changing light of the advertisements overhead. His eyes took a hold of Jiro's throat and choked off anything he was going to say. This guy was creepy. In a beautifully elegant way.

"I don't think I should..." Jiro began again. This time he stopped purposefully, moving forward, but in a direction opposite of that which the man was headed. He was drawn to the man in an eerie way, yet wanted to get away from him. Not only could the man turn at any moment and really get back at him for trying to steal, but he made Jiro's skin freeze, but his inside burn.

[Alexander Mirit]

"Oh..? Pity. The Sweet Water and Osaka Wine are calling our names, dear. Too bad you'll be missing out." He purred and then disappeared from the mouth of the alley. He wasn't one to stick around if the bait was lost. To his surprise, snagging the wallet from the teenager's grasp had gone unnoticed and smoothly, the gentle peel away and violation of personal space worked like a charm. However, what surprised him more than anything was the boy's inattention as he removed the unfashionable necklace from about his neck.

Straightening his arm, he gave it a good shake and allowed the jewelry to slip into his palm as he walked, his thumb grazing the smooth material of the bag that no doubt held within it a precious item to the boy. He highly doubted it would be long before he noticed its disappearance.

Humming a little tune, that soon matched the swaying melody radiating from a club of oriental preference, he stumbled in the doors, up to the bar, and into an empty bar stool.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro watched the man walk away and turned to do the same but did not feel the familiar swing of his long necklace around his neck. The one that held his stone Buddha. The necklace that he kept on all the time.

Jiro's hand flew to his neck. Feeling about his chest a moment confirmed his fear. The necklace was gone. He cast about the ground a moment looking to see if he had lost it somewhere in the scuffle with the man. After a moment or two Jiro realized, it had, in fact, been lost in the scuffle, but not to the ground or to his step towards the man. His necklace was now in the man's posession, and Jiro knew that he had to get it back.

Stomping his foot, and tugging hard on a lock of his course red hair he jogged after the man, keeping his eyes on the doors that the man had disappeared into. It was a club Jiro was familiar with and he was glad for it.

Pushing through the doors, the Japanese music hit his ears, and the Asian languages surrounded him and he heard his own native tongue and searched for the origin. He saw a young woman, just barely in the dim light through the mass of dancing bodies, speaking with a man who worked there judging by his outfit. Jiro looked around the club once to make sure he did not see his Friend anywhere before reaching going to the woman and man who were standing near the door.

"Ah, konnichiwa. Takai wakamono ga mae ni toki kokoni itsutte rai mita ka? Kareha nagai nekkuresu wo nigiru kamoshirenai," he asked them. They looked at each other. The man shook his head.

"Iie. Gomen," he answered with a shrug. The woman however pointed towards there bar.

"Soreha kare dearukamoshirenai," she said, nodding to a man hunched at the bar. Then she nodded to Jiro who bowed.

"Okay, arigatou," he said. Jiro turned and weaved his way through the crowd, inching closer to the slender form sitting morbidly at the bar alone, twisting something around his fingers. Jiro walked up behind him and then slid next to him and into a seat, leaning on the bar and crossing his legs.

"Alright, Friend," he said, blinking in the lights that were flashing all around him. "What is it you want from me?"

[Alexander Mirit]

"Ah..." He sighed, twirling the necklace around his fingers. He cast the boy a smile before turning his attention to the bar tender, whom awaited their order. Sweet Water, a natural choice, was approved and then, he turned to take Jiro's order.

It was then Xander's silvery eyes were turned back upon the pick pocket's face, taking in details. Brown eyes that reminded him of the chocolates containing aphrodisiacs in the clubs on his homeworld, blackish red strands covering them in narrow pointed strands. His smile widened before disappearing completely. The boy had remained silent, causing the bar tender to shuffle away to fix his own order.

"I already told you. Do you not listen? Come now, just one drink wont harm you." He shunned, though the laughter in his eyes made up for the seriousness in his voice. "I'm buy.."

"Then you can have this interesting little trinket back." He informed him, dangling it ever close to the boy's reach.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro watched the man twirl the necklace about his slender fingers, his eyes fixed on his necklace. He wanted it back so he could get the hell out of dodge. And yet, he was drawn to stay, drawn to watch, drawn to this man in general.

Sitting back slightly, and allowing his eyes to leave the necklace and graze the figure accompanying him for a deeper, better look than that he had gotten in the alley way. He was slender, and tall, and appeared to be of Asian descent. He was smooth but sharp at the same time, his eyes holding every emotion Jiro could imagine being held in a human being, and even some things Jiro could not identify. Without knowing the man, Jiro could not know what kind of a person he was, and yet couldn't help but feel he was much more than just a very beautiful face.

Jiro licked his lips and turned away staring off ahead of him, keeping his senses open, and one eye on his neclace. Finally, he bit his tongue hard and sighed out, giving into the man beside him. If he ever wanted to get out of here, he figured he would have to go along with whatever the mysterious figure wanted to do.

"Fine..." he submitted in a whisper.

[Alexander Mirit]

"Good boy." He murmured, nodding his appreciation to the bar tender when his drink was set before him. It was served in a thick glass, denoting that it was powerful stuff. "I believe, my friend, that he is ready to order now." Alexander spoke, his voice a deep baritone that was certainly a change from the usual rabble of snickering. This time, as his smile was favored upon Jiro, it was ridden with sensuality and lazy grace that was quite befitting.

After the boy order, he tilted his head into his upturned palm and inhaled deeply, taking in the wisp of incense and mixed dialects surrounding him. The music that usually promoted dance and merriment had faded into soft vocals that dazed the occupants as they settled into drunken but reserved stupor.

"So, you have a name, friend?" He purred, baring his fangs in a smirk; a trait of his race.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro eyed the man's mouth. It was smooth and perfectly shaped, full lips and slightly curved corners accented the fangs that Jiro spotted in the sly smile that made his eyes sparkle as if they were in an entirely different world from them.

Jiro glanced around a moment at the inhabitants of the club. The music he had just noticed now that he had recovered from being completely lost in trying to figure this man out, had slowed to more of a throbbing heart beat like sound. One that made Jiro's head spin a little bit. When he looked back at his acquaintance he blinked once then smiled.

"Yes, but it's a secret," he said. "But I'll tell you, because I know you won't tell." Jiro smiled. He leaned forward, finding the man's ear and grazing it with his mouth. "I'm Jiro Lawson. Nice to meet you stranger..." he whispered, barely able to hear his own voice over the steady soft pounding of the slower music.

[Alexander Mirit]

A pleasant name, not in comparison to the harsh breath and lips grazing his ear. His eyes flashed, clearly alerting the boy to the trouble he could be getting himself into if he chose to stay at such a proximity. An even harsher chuckle came, deep and soft, gliding across the flesh of Jiro's neck like throws of warmed silk.

"Jiro.." He tested his name, the simple formation rolling off his tongue in a practiced purr, making the word seem more complicated than anyone might consider it to be. "A pleasure to meet you." He stated, dipping the glass beneath his arm and bringing it to his lips. Tipping it, he swallowed the contents in his mouth as though it were the most simplest of things to do, then exhaled a sickeningly sweet breath of frigid air down Jiro's throat. He, too, could play his game.

"Let's say, you can call me Mitsuru." He said quietly.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro swallowed the breath Mitsuru gave to him as if it were his own, closing his mouth around it and cocking his head slightly to the side, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as he chuckled a little, the shiver running up and down his spine clutching at his chest and squeezing it slightly.

"The pleasure is mine, Mitsuru-san," Jiro responded, leaning back slightly, enough to look the man in the eye for a half-second before leaning completely back in his seat and crossing his legs, adjusting his shoulders, and reaching up to tuck some of his hair behind his ears. The trembles were still climbing his spine, and his face was warm, but he smiled.

His eyes slid away from Mitsuru's to the bar tender as he sat his drink down near to Jiro's elbow. Jiro took a deep breath, his eyes shifting back to his acquaintance, he tilted his head back a little his lips parted as if he were going to say something, but he merely smiled and picked up his drink, taking a sip, knowing he needn't overdo it with the alcohol.

[Alexander Mirit]

"See..? My company is quite pleasant, ne, Jiro-kun?" He questioned, though he did not anticipate the boy's answer. He didn't want one. Didn't need one, he already knew. His smile faded into a numb smirk that never quite reached the silvery halo of his eyes. The narrowed orbs were shut away by the down sweep of his black lashes, which were tipped by gold.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, Ji-kun." He demanded with a wavering chuckle in his voice. "Always been a bad boy on the streets of Coruscant?"

"Here, try this." He said, setting his own glass on the counter and nudging it toward him. His hand gripped the necklace tight, the finger armor on his right hand scratching at the bag's material.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro eyed the drink but did not pick it up. He was considering the fact that a man whom he did not know had just asked him to tell about himself. He was thinking of all the things that he could tell Mitsuru and get away with. He doubted if he could lie much to this man. He seemed too on track with everything else that was going on to fall for any of Jiro's pick pocket lying tricks.

He bit his bottom lip and chewed a moment, his eyes sliding from the drink back to Mitsuru and his deep, yet glowing eyes. Jiro blinked his own several times, as the light change that had just occured cause Mitsuru's face blur slightly as he tried to get himself used to it. Jiro leaned forward on his knees, the distance between them making him feel a little uncomfortable, as if leaning a little bit closer would ready Jiro for anything the man did.

"You could say that..." he said with a light shrug. He kept his eyes lowered, not wanting to look into the bottomless black marbles that hung before him in a porcelain face of a kabuki doll come to life. Jiro didn't want to stare down the vampire before him, because two more seconds of doing that and he would be completely lost.

Instead, he turned his attention to the glass, picking it up and raising it to his lips. He touched it to his mouth immediately tasting Mitsuru on it. He tipped the glass and took a drink. Jiro didn's exactly know if he was supposed to have enjoyed or hated the flavor, for it was niether enjoyable, nor grotesque. He swallowed the liquid, its taste sliding down his throat along with the taste of the other man, and Jiro set the glass back down, slipping it across the counter to its owner.

"And you?"

[Alexander Mirit]

"I moved here with my older brother. He's a musician somewhere close by, I suppose. Never know with that man. We became distant after the freakish accident concerning our parents.." He informed him, offering the boy a dangerous smile, partially shrouded by his dangerous demeanor. "I suppose you could say I was wealthy, what with inheriting my parents estate, along with my younger brother, though he got most it." He went on, snatching up his glass and draining it. It took him a moment to swallow the overly sweet liquid, but one could hardly tell, what with his apathetic expression.

It didn't take him long to notice the two ruffians all but drooling over the prospect of a wealthy fop nearby. He could already see the glint of their weapons and murderous intentions shining in their beady eyes. Quite disturbing and poorly designed, he knew. He sighed softly and returned his attention back to Jiro.

"I'm a bit complex, I suppose. But you'll never grow bored when around me. And if you do, it is because you are a boring person." He assured him, dishing out a cocky smile, flashing sharpened teeth once again.

"Anyway, here." He murmured, setting the small necklace on the bar counter next the Lawson. "It is quite rude of me to keep you here. I suppose I was just lonely. It was, again, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lawson."

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro was slightly surprised by the sudden dismissal of his presence there. He picked the necklace up and slid it over his head, happy to once again have it there. He stuffed it down into his shirt and felt it swing to its normal place, hanging near to his belly button, the velvet bag causing the tickling sensation he was so used to.

For some reason, though Jiro now had his freedom to leave when he pleased, he found himself hesitant to do so. He found himself hesitant to leave the man's side, leave his presence, the presence he found oddly intoxicating.

Nodding slightly, then sliding from his seat, he bowed slightly.

"To meet you, Mitsuru-san," he said, cutting off the beginning of the phrase because he was lazy, and figured the man must want to be rid of him. Turning slightly, and feeling suddenly drained, Jiro made his way to the door of the club.

Stepping outside into the air that was relatively cold compared to that of the club, he took a deep breath and passed a hand over his eyes, trying to stop his vision from spinning. He took a step forward and let his eyes clear before gathering his jacket around him and heading towards the apartment he shared with his brother, his brother's fiancee, and his girlfriend.

His girlfriend. Her face swam to the surface of his clouded mind. He realized that he had not said goodbye to her before he had left, and had not, as he was accustomed to doing, given her a kiss either. With the trance that Mitsuru had put his under, he had forgotten a lot of things he might not have otherwise forgotten. But for some strange, and a little bit frightening, reason he did not feel as bad as he thought he might have acting as he had with Mitsuru that night with the full knowledge that he had a girlfriend.

Jiro glanced behind him. He didn't know why, but he had the strange feeling that someone was following him.

[Alexander Mirit]

Someone had hired them, was Alex's first deduction, watching them depart shortly after Jiro had. They moved with lanky stealth. They fit in well with this crowd, their complextion and origin very similar to that of himself and Jiro. Local gang members, no doubt. He made an annoyed sound, paid his tab, then shoved out of his seat. Slipping from the bar/club, hardly noticed by the dancing, drinking mobs of people within, he trailed a hand along his side until it met the hilt of his sword. Finger armor traced the ordinate dragon hilt of the slim but sharp weapon-of-choice.

He followed closely behind the three, hoping for an opportune moment to strike. They were obviously not skilled enough to notice his tracking them. Their employer was either sloppy or quite curious about his skills. Jiro stopped, the men closed in, and the first blows were delivered.

The sheen from his own blade caused vivid and scattered beams of light to reflect from the sword and into the horrified expressions of Jiro's attackers. He closed in upon him, the violent sweep of his trench coat blinding the first of several blows delivered to one member's stomach.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro hadn't heard anything. He had barely seen the men in his peripheral vision, and by the time he had, he was too late to react to them.

The first blow came to the back of his neck. The force threw him forward, his head spinning, his vision clouding, air catching in his throat. The hard ground beneath him hit the heels of his hands and his knee caps hard, jolting him into choking out a breath to catch the one he had lost. He could see very little for two split seconds. His instinct, derived from his pick pocketing days, told him to get up, to turn around, to get the hell out of dodge.

But the moment he moved to turn, to eye his attackers, matched that in which he felt a large hand grab the back of his shirt collar and drag him upwards. The sudden change from being horizontal to being vertical caused his inner ear to once again become confused, throwing off his balance and making his head spin.

By the time he noticed the flash of what was inevitably the blade that one of the thugs must have drawn, both of his assailants faces were thrown into a temporary light, and thier attention was drawn to someone Jiro could not see.

"Mitsuru..." he muttered, a small amount of blood escaping his broken lip.

[Alexander Mirit]

One man down, stomach wounds accounted for, and Jiro was being slung around as though he weighed nothing by the taller brute. An impassioned snarl escaped from his lips as he stepped, or more so spun, around behind Jiro and flung his other attacker as far as he could. The dazed boy fell back into Alex's arm, which he extended upon the man's departure from their immediate presence. Frell him, he was concerned. Sure, the boy was cute enough, but now he was playing the hero. This didn't bode well.

"Hand him over." The man demanded, removing a small blaster pistol from his utility belt. Alex's full frame swiveled around, guarding Jiro's, his challenging stare locking with that of the gang member's.

"No." He stated simply, drawing the blade up in a defensive arc.

The man's hand gripped the blaster a bit more harshly, his index finger tighening around the trigger.

[Aiden Mirit]

Iniquitous sang a song of slaughter as it was unfurled from its accompanying and similarly decorative sheath. The tempting pressure weighed upon the blaster's trigger immediately cut off when the abrupt spin and pendulated swerve was averted skyward, toward the man's elbow, which there-in connected the upper and lower portion of his arm. Severing the joint, said lower half landing on the ground with a sickening clout, the new player of this rather interesting game sent a gaze, chilled by winter's icy blue shades, toward the callow contestant. The glance, radiating all the universe's madness and scathe, was then accompanied by a sardonic smile and vivacious laughter.

The man, in turn, stared at him as though the very devil were present, his mouth agape and his eyes as round as two silvery moons. Quite uninspiring for him. Rolling his eyes, he redirected his blade, a point of authentic aim, and drove the steel forward, into the stupefied man's neck.

Drawing it back, after having driven it to the hilt, he raked it aside, painting a lovely semi-circle with the man's blood. Abrasive eyes wound their way to the others - Alexander Mirit and his younger friend - the smile no longer present within his expression. Loathing eyes dragged over his protective stance, a disdainful line forming on his pale lips.

"You haven't changed."

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro eyes slowly opened, and the feeling of a warm body wrapped around him immediately making him acutely aware of his body, and what and where he was. He recognized the smell of the person who held him close, though he could not seem to place it. The sound of a slithering, deep, liquid like voice, reminiscent of a man named Jabari Phoenix, sounded from the darkness that surrounded Jiro.

You haven't changed.

Whoever hadn't changed was obviously the person keeping Jiro from falling to the ground, for the body entwined with his own shifted slightly around him, thier clothing brushing across his cheek. Jiro shifted as he began to regain himself and his normal bodily functions began to take place again, his breath slowing a little, and his heart following suit, although his heart was still racing.

He did not know who was holding him, and he didn't know who was talking to that person, but Jiro wanted to see what was going on, the darkness that surrounded his vision when he knew that he wasn't blind beginning to frighten him a little. He shifted in the other person's grip, holding onto them, trying to regain his footing, his ear completely open for the voice of either of the other two people present.

[Alexander Mirit]

So familiar. So similar. This was, undoubtly, Aiden Mirit, the very brother that had supposedly parished in the fatal flames that consumed his family estate so many years ago. Silvery eyes met those piercing orbs of pale blue, holding them until he could no longer stand the hatred flickering within their depths. It was a ghost, a simple figment.

"I never will." He reminded the younger man, his own eyes taking on a dangerous glow. Whoever he was, he shouldn't be here. He waved him away, lifting Jiro into his arms.

"I have no time for this."

[Aiden Mirit]

Angling the sword once more, he ran one side, then the other, across the pitch saturation of his sleeve. His own eyes averted once he managed to stare down his brother to his satisfaction, turning the blade backwards as he slipped it into its sheath. The locking at the top made a gentle click, no metal excess riling the air with unpleasant clammer, as surely someone with less skill would do.

"You never did have the time, Alex." He murmured, offering him a genuinely insane smile before turning and slipping into the shadows of a nearby alleyway.

He would wait, of course, until he was done with his friend. While the act of spilling innocent blood did pique his interest, he was only interested in revenge on this night.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro had come finally to, and by that time, the other person had undoubtedly slid back into the shadows from which he had come. Because Jiro now only felt the presence of himself and the person who still held him. Curious as he was about the man who had spoken earlier, as the voice had sent such a frozen feeling over Jiro, he was even more interested in why he had been attacked by those thugs in the first place. And who was holding onto him?

Groaning in annoyance at the pain that raked down his back and across his shoulder blades when he moved them, Jiro took in a deep breath, the smell of the person filling him up, it so familiar to him. His mind went through all the people that could possibly have enough care for him to be carrying him after such an incident. The only person who came to mind were his brothers. But neither Haruko nor Taro had a scent like this.

"Nandeo..." he muttered, to himself, as a realization came over him slightly. "Mitsuru-san?" he didn't know why he thought maybe it was the man he had met earlier. It could have been his own wishful thinking.

[Alexander Mirit]

"Hai." He murmured softly, setting Jiro back upon his feet, though his arms did not part from his frame. Silvery eyes danced over Lawson's face, taking in the unreadable expression that had him worried. Worried. Him, of all people. He scowled darkly and forced his gaze to the building they were standing before, driving the haunting image of his brother's face from his mind.

"I will walk you up."

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro blinked several times, as if to make sure the man in front of him were real. He glanced around him, taking in where he was at. It hit him that they were near to the apartment he shared with his brothers, one of his brothers' fiancee and his own girlfriend. For a moment, he wondered if it was really great idea to allow Mitsuru to in fact walk him to the building. After all, Orange would think all kinds of things. Probably call him out after Mitsuru left, complain about why he was with him, and all sorts of other things. Like she always did.

Looking back at Mitsuru and furrowing his brow, he reached a hand up and massaged his neck, and then let out a sigh. He nodded back to where they had been before.

"Mmm...thanks for helping me out back there..." Jiro had a mind to ask him about the other man that had spoken to him, but the tormented look in Mitsuru's glimmering eyes told Jiro to not invade his personal space and privacy, so his bit his tongue. He licked his lips and tasted blood. He reached up and wiped away a little that had slid out of his mouth when he had hit the ground earlier.

Jiro was aware that the man had not yet allowed his hands to drop from around his waist. He chewed his bottom lip a little, sudden embarrassment causing his stomach to flip over. He laid a hand on Mitsuru's forearm and then over the hand that still held him, before turning and slipping out of his grip allowing his hand to draw down the other man's. He began walking towards his building. He supposed that when they got to the door, he could tell the man that he could take it from there. But he was not yet ready to part with Mitsuru.

But if Orange saw them, Jiro could only guess at the wrath.

[Alexander Mirit]

Jiro was hooked already, Alex determined, smiling slightly as their hands brushed upon his turning. They entered the building and spent their walk in silence, climbing steps that led to, as he counted, the fifth floor. A healthy middle floor, he mused. The building was filled, to his noticing, and quite loud in his opinion. A grade down from the classy apartment on the other side of town, which was more or less down the street.

They reached his front door and Alex observed the man in silence, wanting some kind of signal that would alert him to his final act of hooking Jiro for good. And that was a long time, he thought, his smug smile appearing.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro dug around in his pocket for his key card, pressing an ear to the door of the apartment, waiting to hear someone inside. He knew someone was in there, he just wanted to locate them.

He heard the sound of Haruko saying something in Japanese to Taro, though Jiro could not identify what it was. He sighed out through his nose when he heard Orange. It sounded as if she were farther away in the house, and not right where she might see Mitsuru when Jiro opened the door. But he was still wanting to be cautious. He glanced up and down the halls, the other inhabitants in their rooms, but still being slightly rowdy. Jiro chewed his lip again as he slid his key card and heard the door unlock. He leand his shoulder on the door and looked back over at the other man.

"Arigatou, Mitsuru-san," he said quietly, not wanting the people in his apartment to hear his voice. He bowed slightly. He didn't want to go inside, go through everyone's Spanish Inquisition about where he had been all night. His family was way too nosey.

[Alexander Mirit]

Jiro seemed a bit unwilling to walk into his apartment as of yet, his nervous glances and intent listening at the door telling him as much. And Alexander, himself, was not ready to allow him walk out of his life quite yet either. His words rang like precious farewells in his ears, a saddened tone to make them in the least. He was pleased with that and before the younger man could slip away into the safety of his home, Alex snatched him by the wrist and drug back against his muscular frame.

"Douitashimashite, Jiro-kun."

Crafty fingers trailed up his neck, caressing skin, and tilted Jiro's head back. Their gazes locked briefly, his own closing when his warm lips slanted over Jiro's. His grip tightened on his throat and his lips parted, his sly tongue creeping across Jiro's lower lip.

Then...

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro's back went totally rigid when he felt the other man's body so close. His small waist dipped down into slender hips that bumped Jiro's as he felt the slow fingers gently tilt his head back. His hear automatically sped to an inhuman rate his breath catching in his throat, his chest siezing slightly. All natural reactions.

However, when he felt the thin mouth of Mitsuru touch his own he thought his heart was literally going to leap out of his chest, and he was going to die of heart failure right then, at the young age of seventeen.

As unexpected as any of it was, the tongue that asked for entrance to his mouth caused Jiro's mind to race at the slowest speed possible, thoughts joining and swirling, causing a haze in his mind. Jiro could do nothing but allow his lips to part. He lifted a cool hand and placed in in the curve of Mitsuru's shoulder and neck, leaning forward slightly as his mind caught up with his actions.

[Orange Diren]

Orange laughed lightly as she moved off the couch after watching Haruko and Taro run out of the living room towards the back bedroom. The teasing they were going through tonight was highly entertaining to her, but her mind was slowly moving to other things. Like the person at the door. She let out a sigh as she moved her wide smile into a soft grin. She tugged on the tail of her white tank top, pulling it over the edge of her black cargo pants. She doubted the person at the door needed to see a stomach of a complete stranger considering everyone else had a key to enter.

Orange ran a hand over her head, softening the soft strands that were falling by her face. She frowned as she looked at the door as she entered the tiny hall to the apartments entrance. Unlocked. Was Jiro having issues with his key again?

"Issues?" She said to herself as she smiled and rolled her eyes. She leaned forward and grabbed the cold handle with her right hand while the other held her small tea cup. She felt the heavy door move smoothly on the hinges and she moved her eyes up to see the truth.

Issues? That didn't even begin to describe the scene she was witnessing firsthand. Her smile was quickly stripped away, as was any emotion she could have gone through. Her jaw dropped slightly and she just stared, her hand falling from the door handle. Her heart falling deeply within herself. She moved her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Tears began to well up. The sound of trickling liquid rang loudly in her ears as the cup was slowly being dropped, letting out the liquid that had filled the tiny object seconds ago.

"Ooops." She said loudly as her eyes moved from Jiro to the mysterious man touching him, kissing him, loving him in a way that only she had done. "I didn't mean to interrupt!" She began to pant as her heart beat quickly, her eyes burning with tears, her throat being blocked by the ball of sickness. How unexpected this was.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro jumped away from Mitsuru with a speed like he had never used before, a ball of ice dropping into his stomach. He knew it. Knew somehow she would see them, he just hadn't expected it would be while they were kissing in the hall outside his apartment.

"Oh god..." he reached a hand up and balled hair into his fist. "Orange...I'm..." he shook his head, unable to say anything, his heart beating hard, half from the adrenaline from the kiss, half from the fear he was now experiancing. He didn't know what to say. Orange was too smart for him to use the 'I can explain' excuse, because in reality, he could not explain. There was no explanation. It was just what it appeared to be.

Jiro looked from Mitsuru to Orange and back again. He knew what he was doing when he had allowed Mitsuru to kiss him. He had been completely aware of his own desire to kiss the other man. He just did not know what to say or do.

But Jiro knew, that the moment he had touched Mitsuru's hand down in the street, that he had lost Orange Diren forever.

[Orange Diren]

"Yeah..." She said as tears fell from her eyes. This was just what she was afraid of happening. Orange dropped the cup and let out a whimper of realization. It had taken this long to finally realize the truth that she and Jiro were never meant to get this far, tempation was too great. Everything pointing to the bad was very present and it just ook her this long, took them this long to actually do something about it.

"So this is what it had to come to?" Orange bit her lower lip and turned her head to push the heel of her hand into her eyes to rub away the burn, rub away the tears. "God you.....Jiro!!" She moved away from the door and paced for a moment then turned and pointed at him.

"Since the day I met you...I've feared this! You...bastard." Orange didn't know what to do or say. This had never happened to her before, she had never experienced being cheated on...normally that was her job. "God...Jiro..." She shook her head and looked at the man who stood near him. Before she could say something she put her hand over her mouth, glaring at the two men who shadowed the doorway. What was to become of them now? What was to become of her?

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face. He knew why this had happened, he just did not want to say it. He didn't want to lose her forever. And if they were separated with screaming and tears, he could never see her again.

"Orange..." he paused a moment to collect his thoughts. Then he looked up at her. "Orenji. I can't tell you that what I did just now is right. That would make me a liar...and I am not going to try and justify it either. But..." he stopped. Orange had overreacted about this type of thing before. He wasn't sure if now was a great time to say it. But it was either say it, or be separated angrily.

"Orenji, I know that you and I have been growing apart for much than you might have thought. That doesn't mean I don't love you, and I know saying this right now makes me about the biggest hypocrite that ever lived. But I can't lie to you, and that isn't a lie..." he paused. He looked down at his hands, that were trembling. Had it really come to this? Were he and his soulmate truly not? Was Mitsuru what it had taken to make him realize that? Was Orange going to hate him forever? He he ever going to forgive himself? Was any of this real?

Jiro looked back at Orange a moment, feeling a ball of tears and fear seize his throat. He felt like the scum of the earth, and he knew, in reality, he was.

[Orange Diren]

Orange stopped being hysterical for a moment and glanced at him. He was so beautiful, he always had been. He was the one man she had truly loved, truly wanted to spend the rest of her life with...but at this moment she couldn't do it, couldn't see it, couldn't believe any of it.

"No, Jiro. We...I..." She drew in a deep breath and let it out and glared at the man who was still standing there, viewing this scene as if it were entertainment. How low could one get?

"I need to go." She moved and grabbed her coat that hung idly on a peg. "I really don't want to do this with....him here." She gave an evil look to the man standing with a grin. "As far as we are concerned, Jiro I love you. I never didn't love you." Tears fell freely, how bad this was hurting. She moved towards him and ran a hand down his cheek.

"God, Jiro. I love you, but I want you to be happy. We weren't happy together, not romantically. I don't understand, not really, but I am willing to accept your happiness with this person." She sighed and shook her head. She glanced at her coat and buttoned it up, tears dripping to the floor.

When she looked back up she stared thsi was the last time she was going to see him for a while. She knew it, felt it deep within. She hiccuped and shook her head and smiled. "Since the moment I found you...I've been losing you." She ran a hand down his face again and walked down the hall trying t oescape the inevitable, just for a moment. She was going to pretend she wasn't Orange Diren, that she was someone else without problems. She was happy, calm, and sane. And she wasn't alone.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro leaned down on his knees, feeling the tears overcome him, one slipping down his face as he heard the door to his apartment slwoly shut, and Orange's footsteps fade down the hall, and, finally, disappear. What kind of a person was he? What kind of a horrible person? How could he have done this? To her? To them?

There would be no more Orenji. No more waking up to her face in the morning, hearing her laugh when he did something stupid. There would be no kisses just for the hell of it. Nothing from her ever again. Jiro didn't know if he would be able to handle it. Handle being without her.

And yet somewhere inside him, under the fear and pain, he wasn't heartbroken. Not in the sense that he would never love again. He knew that this was best. Best for him and for her. He found shelter in knowing that she would find someone else, someone better for her. Someone who saw her eye-to-eye. Who could understand her, share her points of view completely and totally. Someone who was not him.

Jiro stood straight again clenching his jaw and staring at his apartment door. He could say nothing, see nothing, feel nothing. All he wanted, was warmth. All he wanted was...

And without thinking it through completely and totally, Jiro turned back to Mitsuru putting his arms around the taller man's waist and laying his head on his chest. He moved as close as humanly possible, unable to say anything. He would not be able to explain to Mitsuru why, and if the other man pushed him away, it would be alright. Jiro had spent his life being pushed away. But for a few seconds at least, as he held on, squeezing his eyes shut and just savoring the warmth of the other man, he could pretend that it was all okay. He could make up a life that he and Orange had never shared, that they had never been part of each other's lives and that they were both happy. That for a moment or two, he and Mitsuru were the only two people left in the universe and Jiro Lawson had never known Orange Diren, had never hurt her and let her hurt him.

Because nothing mattered now, but surviving.

[Alexander Mirit]

He was never one to comfort someone, especially over matters such as this. He didn't have much to say, if anything at all, but he did hold Jiro just as tightly, his hands working over his shoulders. Silvery eyes followed Orange down the hall until she disappeared, the dislike within them shining like treacherous beacons, then, his attention averted back to Jiro. His gaze softened and his mind wandered.

Pain looks so pretty on you...

[Orange Diren]

Orange let out a sigh as she walked down the stairwell needing time to think to herself and realize that this wasn't as bad as she had made it out to be. She and Jiro had been losing touch with one another for such a long time and finally catching him astray....it was truly for the best. But if it was, why was it hurting her so? Orange wiped her tears away as she walked out of the building, enjoying the cold hitting her warm red face. Her eyes burned from the tears and she was suddenly angry at the man who had probably ruined her relationship from being saved, because didn't love have ups and downs? Wasn't love worth fighting for? Was Jiro worth fighting for?

"Bastard!" Orange screamed out watching her breath condense in the cold air. She paced in front of the building trying to find something to hit, kick, punch...something to get out her agression she suddenly felt for the man who had ruined the relationship. The man Jiro went to other than her.

"You will get yours you son of a..." Orange gasped slightly when she glanced up from the ground that was ridden with puddles of water from the rain. A man was standing nearby looking at her as if she were crazy, and now that it was brought to her attention her actions were crazy. She blinked a few times and let out a sigh and grinned.

"Uh, hi." She said as she swallowed and took a deep breath, glad that he was there because she'd end up damaging something important to someone. "I didn't know...anyone else was out here." She glanced back to the ground and ran a hand over her forehead, brushing back a piece of her flame colored hair.

"I'm not crazy, promise." She smiled and glanced up at him and breathed in deeply, the cold air feeling like ice inside of her, rejuvinating her for a moment.

[Aiden Mirit]

Ebon hood and shifting shrouds of cloak layers whipped around his form like flames from a dismal progenitor, not daring to obscure the icy blue of calculating eyes. Aiden had felt the woman's anger even before she had exited the building, the primitive tantrum thrown down and thus furthering his amusement with the older female creature. Without much effect, he managed a smile that he didn't bother hiding. She had a most interesting method to venting. Which he, too, needed to do soon.

"Too bad, I almost thought you might be interesting." He murmured, his voice husky but posturing his youth.

A wind churned past him, knocking back hood and unsettling the arranged set of his clothing. Medium, dark brown hair shifted about his jaw-line, causing the annoying tickling sensation that a mix of smooth hair and warmed flesh often inspired.

"Let me guess, a tiff with the boyfriend? They can be so insensitive at points, not that I am the authority on relationships. So, any thought on when your darling and his new lover might be joining us down here? If I know him, probably not for a week. Ahh well.." He sighed, raking a hand back through his hair. Verily agitating.

[Orange Diren]

Orange began to smile. This man was by far the most interesting creature she had seen on this god forsaken planet. The hair, his eyes, his lips, his ability to guess the problem amusign her far more than it actually should have. But her brow began to furrow when he began to speak of them joining, did he know the bastard? Orange, for some reason, wasn't really concerned with Jiro at the moment but far more interested in the man standing nearby raking his hand through his raven colored hair. Beauty far more immaculate than she had ever seen, she could tell his temper could be very nasty if she were one to witness it and that thought alone made her more interested in the man.

"I wouldn't go so far as to calling him my boyfriend, not anymore at least." Orange moved a bit closer to him, smelling his enticing scent from the cool breeze that whipped by her, tugging at her hair that was now a complete wreck. Boy had she never wanted to look so good in all her life.

"Might I ask what you mean... about them joining us?"

[Aiden Mirit]

"Never mind, woman. He isn't your boyfriend anymore, so why concern yourself with his business? Oh my, you don't.. love him, do you?" Aiden inquired, his voice dripping with mocking satire. He grinned and shook his head, placing one hand upon the hilt of his sword, Iniquitous. Blue eyes wandered boredly to the ground, though he would not deny the attraction he felt to a variety of her features. Any fool willing to take Alex in and shove her out was bound to feel horrid repercussions.

"Such a pity. I find the wiles of love quite a waste of time. It lasts for a short while and then, heartache. You'll lose more than you thought you put in." He informed her, his opinion swayed more so by the death of his parents than the past with an unlikely lover.

[Orange Diren]

Orange slit her eyes as she listened to his ideals on love. She couldn't say she disagreed, but then again she didn't agree. She grinned after a moment and she tilted her head, the man enthralling her more than he possibly should have, but she was about to think of Jiro now not when this magnificent creature was here in front of her.

"A pity?" She smiled fully and she shook her head. "Such a cynical outlook of love. I think you must've had a bad experience? If I do say so myself if you are in love with someone fully you'd do just about anything to keep the embers burning a little while longer. Sadly, the man I thought I loved didn't requite the same feelings as I did."

[Aiden Mirit]

"Some fools think they need love.." He hissed, his voice like jagged glass on bare flesh. "I've tasted love's lies and loss. All it does is weaken the soul." He informed her, his assessment continuing, glacial blue orbs raking her lithe frame. The feigned apathy in his eyes flickered under the harsh glow of overhead commercial signs.

He was before her almost instantly, muscular body pressing ever so close to her own, trampling on personal boundaries as though they were so many easily soiled emotions beneath his feet. They might as well be, he thought. He could hear her breathing, her heart beat, feel the steady rise and fall of her chest against his own.

Leaning forward, his forehead grazing the smooth tuck of her fiery red hair, he placed his warm mouth against the shell of her ear and let out a husky breath.

"Never love or trust anyone if you don't have to, girl." He murmured, his hand leaving Iniquitous' smooth hilt to caress her curved jaw line. "Your passion and pain, they are all you will be left with.. in the end."

[Orange Diren]

Orange couldn't have been more surprised by his quick actions, his closness, the need for introductions being lost somewhere in between his speech and his moist breath touching her chilled skin. But after feeling him touch her jaw she felt as if she were on fire, lord knew everything inside was.

"I trust only those who need to be trusted. Are these life lessons you are speaking or is it a mere comfort for me?" She barely could speak, how she loved this sudden closeness. If he were to ask who broke her heart she doubted his name would spring to mind. The only thing she was focusing on was her sudden desire for the man near her, the lust to feel him touch her more, the yearning to touch the lips that were so close yet so distant. How sudden it was to be attracted to a complete stranger. Her heartache had suddenly vanished like a mist in the darkness had her heart been wandering all along?

[Aiden Mirit]

Aiden wasn't much for comforting or dishing out lessons. His lips twisted into something malicious but genuine, a smile that played havoc with the knit slant of his brow. He decided not to scare her when he drew back and pasted on an expression that could be compared to previous apathy, the fond smile still dancing in his icy blue eyes. Clasping his hands to her shoulders, he moved his head away from her own momentarily, setting forehead against forehead, eyes locking.

"Comfort the one who was foolish enough to fall from grace? You might infect me with your loving ways and then I would have to kill us both and save the universe one more set of babbling block heads. As for lessons... there's a few more things I could teach, but love and gentleness have no part in them." He murmured, turning from her whippingly, one hand tugging up the slip of a sleek leather glove.

[Orange Diren]

Orange watched him move and for a moment her heart stopped, especially when his eyes locked with her own. His voice was seductive, like chocolate for the ears. He had an element about him that nobody else had, a hidden danger that lurked in the depth of his soul. It was very intriguing to her for she had never met anyone quite as interesting as the man who stood in front of her. It was also quite awkward to have met him in such a manner.

She cocked an eyebrow as she listened to him and then move away from her. His words somehow made memories of love suddenly become dark and dismal. How he quickly made things that she had once believed in and enjoyed turn into ashes. Love...it was apparent this man had not experienced it full heartedly.

Orange wasn't thinking that she could've been the woman to change his ways, but it had crossed her mind that perhaps he could've loved her. It was apparent that she was in need of love, sadly, the men she became attracted to didn't want to give it to her.

"A dangerous man, I see. No wonder you speak harshly about love."

[Aiden Mirit]

"Dangerous? Indeed. You should get back inside before I show you just how dangerous I can be.." He growled, casting a cold glance over his shoulder at the woman. They would, no doubt, meet again. If Mitsuru was tumbling the woman's former boyfriend, a run in was almost certain. It would be sooner than that, however. That prickling chill raked up the length of his spine.

Shoving a hand back through his hair, he blew out a sigh that emitted a swirl of steam and then began to walk. Women that had to be comtemplated were always trouble.