thricebitten | Werewolf tea party memory

Werewolf Tea Party

[ The doorbell rings, and Natsuno watches his father - the shell of the man who used to be his father, hair now seeming grey and unkempt, and face haggard - kick it open and stab a kitchen knife into the waist of the man standing outside with a yell. His father bursts into wild, triumphant laughter, before leaning against the wall behind him and sliding his face down it part way. ]

I did it, Natsuno! I killed an undead! What'd you say? I'm pretty dependable, right?

[ The man at the door, Tatsumi, is dressed in someone's idea of a fashionable outfit, a red jumpsuit with lepoard print on the low-plunging collar and cuffs, and spikes on the shoulders. He watches impassively, seemingly unbothered by the knife sticking out of him, meeting Natsuno's gaze from behind his sunglasses and smiling as Natsuno's father continues to ramble. ]

Welcome to the new and improved Koide Workshop! We have lots of plans up for show on the undead desk! Oh! I'd better not fall asleep or I'll be like the yolk in a boiled egg! I can see Azusa's cheerful smile!

[ As his father continues on like that, Tatsumi removes his sunglasses and gives a quiet "Ya!", looking directly at Natsuno, who glares back. Anger settles in his veins like molten metal seething under ice, but he stays silent and unmoving as Tatsumi casually pulls the knife from his body and spins it around in his hand, shaking off the blood. The wound starts to heal as soon as the knife is out, just leaving a dark bloodstain behind. ]

Sir, may I come in?

[ His father stops talking, and slowly drops his arms. When he speaks again, it's a false echo of his usual, professional voice. ]

The showroom opens in the morning. Come on in.

[ Natsuno leads Tatsumi into the showroom that's part of his house, part of his parents' workshop, and they both take seats across from each other in comfortable, egg-style chairs, a low coffee table between them. His father even brings Tatsumi a cup of green tea, and Natsuno waits for him to leave before speaking, his voice low and carefully bereft of emotion. ]

So, what do you want?

[ Tatsumi smiles with a small, rueful chuckle, holding the metal cup of tea. ]

I wish you'd told me you'd risen.

[ Natsuno meets his pleasant-sounding statement with tired disaffection, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. ]

I didn't know I had to.

[ Tatsumi looks up from the tea to study his face. ]

True, it's not required. [ He sips his tea. ] Do you know what Jinrou are?

What you and I are, right?

[ Tatsumi gives a slight nod. ]

You really are sharp. Jinrou is a subspecies of Shiki. Including yourself, I know of only four. They're quite rare. Sunako coined the name "Jinrou". Werewolves are the servants of vampires in movies and whatnot, right?

[ Sickeningly pretentious - is that the role they expect of him? A loyal servant to the people who killed him? Natsuno stares down at the table and laces his voice with heavy disinterest, dangerously dismissive and uncaring. ]

Who knows? I haven't seen that.

[ Tatsumi's grip on his cup of tea tightens sharply, the strength of it crushing the metal with a loud crunching noise, the liquid inside spilling out as the handle snaps off at its base. Natsuno raises his gaze and focuses, meeting Tatsumi's glare. ]

By the way, one of your few friends, Akira Tanaka... [ he crushes the cup further ] I haven't seen him around lately. What could have happened to him?

[ He remembers finding Akira tied up in the thought-abandoned house, most likely left there by Tatsumi to be fed on by the Shiki that Akira had broken in to try and stake during the day. Remembers freeing him and getting him safely away, and dragging the Shiki into the woods to tie him to a tree for the sunlight to deal with. Of course Tatsumi knows he's the one who freed Akira, and he's most likely guessed he did something to the now-absent Shiki. He's being toyed with. Tested. He feigns total disinterest, looking down at the table and deadening his voice. ]

No idea.

[ Tatsumi's eyes narrow. He stands from his chair and steps on the coffee table, breaking it in half with his foot. His hand flies up to grasp Natsuno by the throat and lift him off the ground so high his head almost hits the ceiling, and his chair is knocked back across the floor with the force of his movement. He dangles in mid-air, his entire weight held effortlessly by the iron-strong hand clenched around his neck, feet off the ground. Tatsumi's eyes have gone from gold to black, thin red rings shining around the pupil. ]

As I thought, you haven't been drinking blood. Jinrou can breathe and maintain a pulse. They can go out in daylight and even digest normal foods. Their strength and senses also increase dramatically. However, none of that extra power is available unless they drink blood. Well? I could kill you right here if I want.

[ Natsuno can feel the truth in the threat. Tatsumi's fingers dig into his throat hard enough to bruise, and harder - more than enough to choke him. Enough to crush his throat for a second, and his eyes roll back as he uselessly kicks his feet. He wonders - could Tatsumi just snap his head off like this? One-handed, brutally casual, like crushing a metal cup.

He doesn't.

He tosses Natsuno away, so that he hits the wall, left to cough painfully on the floor. ]

If it were up to me, you'd be dead already. But Sunako wishes for more comrades. I'll give you a little more time to think things over. [ He slides his sunglasses back on and turns to leave as Natsuno glares up at him. ] Come join us. Any more trouble, and I will be back to kill you.

[ Natsuno watches him leave, hate and anger roiling distantly in him - and above them, satisfaction. Now he's thought of as weak. Bloodless. A nuisance, not a threat.

Perfect. ]