Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. January, 1991. The world has entered the technology era, portable phones, home computers, internet, video games. Japan quickly became the epicenter of the latest and greatest. Companies and factories flourished. Where money was, people followed. And while many rose to live a comfortable, happy, and delightful life from this new found money... Others did not. You see, money has this effect on people that can't be outdone. People will do anything for it. And when it starts slipping into the wrong hands, it's impossible to stop. Benethe the day time laborers and the double-shift workers, a seedy underbelly of syndicates exists. Narctics, black market, organized crime, money laundering, you name it and it's been growing as fast as the upper world economy. While many do it just to stay alive, there's those who make it their posh lifestyle. Either way, there's only one question. What would you do if the money was good enough?
JAN 29 2021: Welcome!! ƎLEMENT has been open for two weeks now and we're so happy to see such a bright beginning! If you're new feel free to drop into the discord and say hi before joining.
Seiya’s days and nights had begun to meld together; an exhaustion gripping the man that no one would ever see; masked by the fire in his eyes that seemed to burn endlessly. He had fallen into a pattern; one that had him seeing all the same faces. They were all people he loved; people he was happy to grow accustomed to; but monotony had never really suited him. [break][break]
Was it any wonder the vigilante was pent-up? The early evening paid its dues; venting his frustrations on men from his bar that couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Didn’t seem to know how to leave a lady’s skirt down—not a damn patron doing a thing to stop it. Brass knuckles still dawned and coated in fresh crimson that he barely bothered to clean. He flicked his wrists sending flecks of blood across the alleyway. [break][break]
Normally, he knew better than to wear what he considered a badge of honor out into the streets—but fuck if something utterly intriguing didn’t catch his eye. A flash of pink out in the streets; hair long and flowing that he swore he recognized. With bodies left crumpled against the brick of the alley in his wake; he scooted out of the shadows like an excitable dog catching a familiar scent.[break][break]
As he hit the light of the streets; the sun not quite set—drenching that beautiful man in a heavenly glow; it hit him.[break][break]
The Doctor...[break][break]
Three years ago; Seiya had found himself in something of an execution. Pissed off the wrong guys, saw too many things he shouldn’t have seen, the usual vigilante career-ending shit; and Seiya had never in his life backed down from a fight—no matter how clearly he should have. He’d already taken a bullet to his chest; and with the barrel of a gun comfortably nestled in his mouth; he was fairly certain his luck had finally run out. As his vision faded and he crashed to the cement; an old friend came to his aide. In one second, he saw Hotaru crying over what should have been his corpse... and in the next, he saw an emerald-eyed angel.[break][break]
Seiya never forgets a face; and with a look so unique—he certainly wasn’t about to forget the man that saved his life.[break][break]
All he knew was that the pink-haired man was some friend—or maybe coworker—something of Hotaru’s. It didn’t phase him not to know much else; his hand was already in the air with an energetic wave as though the two were old friends. “HEY! DOC! WAIT UP!” He shouted, some unbridled excitement as he bounded across the street to catch the rosy creature.[break][break]
Shu had mere seconds before fire met flower; that impassioned man throwing his arm around the other’s shoulder—no respect at all for social norms. Seiya wore a bright grin on his face; though he reeked of rust—his knuckles still glazed in gore. He wasn’t well-dressed for the chill of the weather; his jacket a victim of the night’s brawl. A black band t-shirt coated in sweat and blood; and ripped-to-hell acid-washed jeans topped off with those untamable coffee locks tugged back into a ponytail.[break][break]
“Well, hello beautiful! Long-time-no-see!” His voice had an immense pep to it; each word pouring with flirtatious charisma as if this were nothing out-of-the-ordinary. Crimson eyes alight with excitement; canines in his grin like fangs—all too much like Hotaru—though he didn’t give off a particularly threatening aura; despite his condition. [break][break]
Blood. Gods, there'd been a lot of blood. As he trudged through the dimming Tokyo streets, Shu double- and triple-checked under his nails, making sure he'd gotten all of that lingering crimson off of him. He always wore gloves, always slipped on protective gear; how the hell did that blood always find its way past his barriers? [break][break] "P-Please! Please no! Stop! Stop please!" [break][break] His steps faltered, eyelids blocking emeralds as Shu took a few long, shaky breaths. The moments after a job like that were always the worst, the echoes of his victim's pleas lingering like ghosts in the back of his mind for hours until he managed to drown them out with drugs, alcohol, or some dangerous mixture of both. His hands, now tucked into the deep pockets of that expensive coat, trembled, clenched into shaky fists as he tried to tether himself to the reality of that sunset-drenched city. [break][break] You're done. You can go home. You can relax. Breathe... Breathe... [break][break] Slowly--agonizingly slowly--Shu managed to settle the creeping anxiety, that terrifying, looming panic, and restart his trek home. He was close; so close. He just had to cross that threshold and he could crumble, could crawl to the bathroom, could throw back half a bottle of those numbing narcotics, could let himself fade for the night. [break][break] "HEY! DOC! WAIT UP!" [break][break] Shu froze, terror no longer creepy, now fully sprinting through his system, up his spine, clouding his brain with a sudden heart-racing panic. It was a chill even that warm scarf wrapped tightly around his neck couldn't keep out, the beloved fabric feeling more like a constricting snake when he glanced to see that chocolate-haired man trotting in his direction. Who the fuck was this? Why was he coming towards him? Why was he-- [break][break] Blood. Shu noticed it just before that arm wrapped around his shoulders, the stench becoming overpowering as he was tugged into the unexpected and wholly unwanted embrace. [break][break] "Well, hello beautiful! Long-time-no-see!" [break][break] A squeak, terrified and high-pitched, slipped from Shu's lips before he could manage to get any words out. He stared, aghast, at this invading figure, brows knitting in confusion. [break][break] "Wh-Who the fuck are you?" he managed to stutter out, trying to steady his breathing, visibly trembling as his mind tried to place that expression, tried to place this man coated in that horrible stench and terrifying hue. When he spoke again, it was in a stuttered plea, desperation coating his tone. "P-Please stop touching me!"
Ah, that was not a pleased sound. Seiya’s deep red gaze widened in surprise—he really had to learn to stop just... grabbing people like this. He’d clearly sent the poor angel into some kinda panic; immense guilt washing over his mind as he opened his mouth to start apologizing.[break][break]
”Wh-Who the fuck are you?”[break][break]
Ah, that’s no good; o’ course he doesn’t remember me, reason finding the hyperactive vigilante’s mind far too late. “Hey, hey, Doc, relax—relax; I ain’t gonna hurt ya—“ his accent starting to peek out; as he grew more flustered.[break][break]
”P-Please stop touching me!”[break][break]
God, that stuttered plea sent another crashing wave of guilt through Seiya’s very soul; immediately taking his hands off of the other. “Sorry—Sorry, bad habit! Won’t happen again!” His voice was strangely soft and smooth; considering his disposition. He raised his hands up as if Shu had a gun pulled; just to show his willingness to step back. It was that moment that he realized the traces of gore painting his limbs. “Oh! Fuck! Sorry!” He rushed to wipe his hands and forearms on his pants; dropping his weapons into the pockets of his jeans rather than clipping them to their place on his belt.[break][break]
“I-It’s just bad-guy blood, promise; some creeps in the ba—you don’t care about that,” he fumbled through an explanation before quickly giving up on it and taking a deep breath. “Sorry, sorry. I just got excited... uh...” he rubbed the back of his head with a sigh; flashing Shuichi an apologetic look—far too much like a puppy that had accidentally bit his master while trying to play.[break][break]
“Uhm... deep breaths... In... out....” he demonstrated the deep breathing exercise in a far too theatrical display; his movements exaggerated as he puffed out his diaphragm and let out an extended sigh; the grin returning to his features—still warm and friendly, but now steeped in the discomfort that came from distressing others.[break][break]
“Uh... the name is Kissa Seiya; you saved my life a couple years back!”[break][break]
He quickly shifted to bow his head. “Uhm—Haru brought me to you...” he managed to mumble out; forgetting that there were so few people who still called Hotaru by that nickname. Whether he’d outgrown it, or if it had just become too painful; he wasn’t sure. Though it was quite some time ago; it was one of the only times that Shu had seen any real human emotion in Hotaru; at least, since joining the ranks of Aijiwau. Desperation, fear, and grief accompanied the threat as he loomed over the tortured Doctor all those years ago.[break][break]
Seiya's flustering did nothing for Shu's own tension, his brows knit deeper into that concerned expression as his new companion floundered for some control over the situation. He took a distinct step backwards, away from the dark-haired man, when he was released, nervous emeralds never leaving that visage, like some rabbit just trying to find an escape from some slinking, predatory fox. He might have actually darted away were he not so terrified of being chased, of being spotted, of the scene somehow winding up with him on the wrong side of the Ajiwaus' opinions or, worse, in a body bag at the hands of this presumed-violent stranger. [break][break] Seiya's quick explanations weren't helping much, either. "Bad-guy blood" was still blood; it still implied that this man was dangerous, those slipped-away weapons only supporting that conclusion. And Shu's blood boiled at that breathing guidance, his cheeks turning a dark scarlet from some mixture of embarrassment, insult, and fear. [break][break] "Uh... the name is Kissa Seiya; you saved my life a couple years back!" [break][break] What? That prey-like inclination was momentarily stifled, terrified expression briefly flickering to a more manageable confusion. He still jumped when the other bowed to him, an instinctual response to the quick movement, but his hands slowly loosened from that tight fists they had been clenched in. He glanced around, embarrassed by the public display, grateful there weren't that many eyes on them. [break][break] "H-Haru?" he murmured, only further confused by the offered name. [break][break] As much as he had saved a few lives over the past couple years, Shu had mostly forgotten about them, justifying that dismissed memory with the idea that they were scumbag Ajiwau bastards who didn't deserve a second thought. Keeping them alive wasn't doing any actual good for the world. Was this guy part of the Ajiwau? He certainly didn't look it... [break][break] "I... I don't... I don't know who that is..."
Ah, jeez; I really freaked the poor guy out... He looks pretty irritated...[break][break]
Seiya’s brows knitted; angling up as he righted his posture from that bow; sincere remorse in his flickering ruby gaze. He couldn’t help but take in that darker hue; though it clearly wasn’t from his own natural charms. It was beautiful none the less; with his pink hair, scarlet-tinted skin, and flecks of green from those entrancing eyes; the doctor looked damn near like a rose.[break][break]
At least his introduction seemed to ease the other slightly.[break][break]
”H-Haru?”[break][break]
It wasn’t until then that he realized his mistake.[break][break]
”I... I don’t... I don’t know who that is...”[break][break]
“Ah, hell—sorry; I guess not many people call him that... uh... Hotaru; or uh— Abe-san, I suppose would be his proper title?” [break][break]
There was confusion steeped in Seiya’s voice; he wasn’t a big fan of formalities these days. He never did get used to that new surname for his friend, either... To Seiya, Hotaru would always be Aizen Haru.[break][break]
He returned to his charismatic grin. “I just wanted to take you out for a drink! Wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you,” he seemed utterly sincere in his words; the fire in his eyes nothing more than a gentle campfire flitting invitingly as he gazed that beautiful rose. “You uh, you can just call me Seiya; no reason for angels to be formal~” he chuckled; giving the other a little wink. The young man always a bit of an unabashed flirt.
“Ah, hell—sorry; I guess not many people call him that... uh... Hotaru...” [break][break] There was a moment, the briefest flash of a natural reaction to that name taking over, in which a rather terrified expression overcame Shuichi's features. He stumbled back half a step before the look was gone, hidden away by a faked cough and a nervous glance around the area. [break][break] "O-Oh... Hotaru... I uh... I see... uhm..." [break][break] He was lucky this guy was a talker, just flashing that charismatic smile and continuing on with his explanation, allowing Shu the moment to catch his breath and try to assess the situation, to assess this man before him. He didn't... seem like a danger. He didn't really seem like someone who would hang around Hotaru either, though Shu was all too familiar at that point with the ways in which Hotaru could manipulate others. [break][break] The affiliation with that damned man was enough to bring back the spark of a memory, Shu recalling briefly that looming form when he'd brought Seiya to him. He also recalled that strange countenance that had overtaken him, the way Hotaru felt... different in that moment. It had been early on in their... relationship... so Shu had just shrugged it off as some attempt to blind him to the truth of his character, but maybe... [break][break] "S-Seiya..." he murmured, flushing suddenly a deeper crimson as the flirtatious nature of his companion's comment finally registered. He glanced away like some nervous schoolboy, fingertips immediately moving to toy with the tassels of his scarf. He'd never been good with flirtation in the first place; his most recent years had only made that type of interaction harder to stomach. Still avoiding eye contact he continued, "M-Morita... Shuichi." He should return the gesture in kind, shouldn't he? "Uhm you can... uh... you can call me... Shu... if you want..." [break][break] He wasn't quite sure why he'd felt compelled to offer that information; the idea of interacting with anyone who associated enough with Hotaru for the man to demand Shu keep him alive was... disconcerting. But as he glanced back at that ruby gaze, that flirtatious smile fitting nicely amidst that friendly visage, he couldn't help but think that this guy wasn't so bad. He certainly was friendly, which was more than he could say about their shared acquaintance, and he didn't look like an Ajiwau. Honestly, he looked like some punk kid trapped in an adult's body. [break][break] Maybe I can... get some info... on Hotaru... he contemplated, unsure whether that was an authentic goal or if he was just justifying wanting to learn more about this man. [break][break] "I uh... I could go for a drink..."
