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Infected	By : Himitsu_no_Tokumei Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2195 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kindgom Hearts, nor do I profit in any way (except maybe my ego) from this work of fiction!

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
This chapter is rated M for Blood and Gore.

Chapter 9: Beginning
The kid fell harshly to the cold earth, looking up through teary eyes at the teenager. His opponent stood over him with complete indifference, the fist he’d used to hit the boy held casually out in front of him. Emotionless, blue eyes stared down at him, all but daring him to stand up again. When no attempt was made, his brunette opponent slowly lowered his fist. “Now get out of here,” the fifteen-year-old commanded, chuckling slightly as the bully tripped over his own feet in his rush. “Are you okay, Selphie?” he asked, turning and offering a hand to the girl behind him.
“Yeah, I’m okay now Squall,” she replied, chipper as ever despite just being harassed again. Her small stature and kind demeanor made her a good target, until one of her friends caught wind of the ‘fun’ and came to join the party. Her distress had also become a competition between two of her friends, neither Squall nor Seifer wanting to be outdone by the other. This rescue would put Squall ahead a point, which would no doubt lead to a fight and some kind of punishment from the Mother.
“That’s good,” Squall said in reply, turning to walk away now that he had the confirmation. “You shouldn’t let them push you around like that,” he added, not even slowing his leisurely pace.
“But then my Prince Charming couldn’t come rescue me,” the girl teased, skipping to catch up.
“Who ever said I was your Prince Charming?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at her slightly.
“Well, you do come save me, right?” Selphie giggled, slowing to match his pace but still skipping. “And besides, who ever said I was talking about you when I said that?”
There was a moment of silence, then came Squall’s characteristic reply, “Whatever.” Frowning at him, the girl puffed her cheeks out frustratedly before bounding off, determined to not let Squall’s persistently sour mood ruin her day. She’d just go find Zell and bug him, the martial artist was normally up for a game or two, especially if it got him out of chores for an hour or two.
Slowly shaking his head at the departing girl’s back, Squall turned away from the orphanage building he was heading to, looking out instead towards the open field. The Mother, Edea, had always told them to stay clear of the field because she could not see into it very well, a large hedge and hill blocking most of her view. Of course, Squall had never listened. She told everyone not to go there, meaning that when he went he could be alone. Having ditched Selphie (or her ditching him), he now made his way towards that vast expanse of grass and flowers.
Making sure not to pick any particular path, and thus never leaving a lasting trail, Squall made his way towards a secluded spot with a hill on one side and boulders on another, providing shade. The grass was soft and made a nice blanket on the otherwise hard soil, a place where the reclusive teenager could just lay and look at the sky. Half of the time he would simply place an arm over his eyes and doze off, taking comfort in the warm breeze and cool shade. Being ever vigilant, he would normally wake within a couple hours and casually make his way back home. Edea would usually be worried about his mysterious disappearance, but after several years she had become conditioned to it. Other than a quick scolding for vanishing he got no punishment; that, too, had exhausted its usefulness.
“Hey, are you okay?” an unfamiliar voice asked, interrupting his nap. Soft blue eyes shot open and alert body jolted to s crouched position, scanning the area for the source of the voice. “Up here,” it came again, drawing Squall’s attention behind him. There, sitting quite contented-looking on a shady boulder, was a blonde boy who looked somewhere around the age of sixteen. His clothing looked expensive, an automatic warning sign for the not-well-off teenager, and his eyes almost shone a bright blue.
“Who are you?” Squall shot, backing away from the stranger.
“Cloud,” the boy replied, casually sliding of his perch to his feet. “You don’t have to be so defensive, um…” he started, trailing away where he would have put the brunette’s name.
“Squall,” he replied, not relaxing in the slightest. “Squall Leonhart. What are you doing here?”
“I’d reckon the same thing you were,” Cloud replied, leaning back against the oversized rock that had been his seat a moment before. “I figured I’d enjoy my solitude and take a walk. I just happened to come across you.”
“I’ll be going now,” Squall stated in return, turning his back to the strange boy uneasily to walk away.
“Wait,” Cloud called, jogging towards the brunette a couple steps. Squall slowly came to a stop, glancing back over his shoulder at the other teenager. “Can I meet you here again?” he asked.
Debating it for a moment, Squall cautiously nodded before continuing on his way. It was about time for him to be heading back anyway, and this would give him time to think about it.

As the days grew longer Squall found himself sneaking off earlier and earlier, and returning later and later to the orphanage. Seifer really started to become Selphie Knight-in-Shining-Armor because Squall wasn’t even around half of the time to protect her. A part of him felt really bad for abandoning his friend like that, but she did still have his frival (friend/rival) and the introverted brunette was finding he quite enjoyed Cloud’s company. The blonde had some strange… quirks… about his personality, but they were always on the same page with the important things. He could tell when something was wrong with his new friend, and the older male (Cloud confirmed he was sixteen) knew when to not pry into Squall’s problems. If he left it alone Squall would normally start talking about it after a while anyway.
Talking wasn’t the only thing the two would do together. Many games were tested by the two, including finding shapes in the clouds, which normally sent the two into outrageous fits of laughter. At one time, just to make a joke, the normally mature Cloud pointed to a long, thin cloud and said it looked like a penis (his penis, to be exact), rewarding him with a strange expression from his companion before the brunette burst into laughter. He wasn’t allowed to live it down for weeks. On the days when they were tired or lazy, they would normally lie down in the groove Cloud first met Squall in and doze off, silently thankful for the company.
Fighting was another thing the two did, with sticks they pretended were swords. The ‘clash and clang’ of ‘metal on metal’ could be heard for several feet around them in that fragrant meadow, petals and pollen being disturbed by their fast moving feet.
“You’re so slow,” Cloud teased as he dodged another ‘deadly blow’ from Squall’s weapon.
“I don’t want to kill you yet,” the brunette retorted, feinted to one side and giving the cocky blonde a good slap on the other cheek (sometimes face and sometimes ass, and not always with his ‘sword’). “I prefer to play with my kill first.”
“Yeah, well play with this,” Cloud grinned, throwing the weapon in his hand deftly at his opponent. The stick fly end over end enough times that both lost track of which was supposed to be the tip and which was the hilt, but they knew it was one or the other than hit Squall in the chest.
Playing the part of the wounded soldier, his hand flew to his heart. “Oh, you’ve got me,” he articulated, moaning in mock pain and slowly starting to fall forward. Chuckling at his friend’s antics, the blonde moved forward and casually caught his falling opponent. He wasn’t expecting Squall to throw all his weight at him, though, so when he did they both toppled over backwards.
“Okay, Squall, very funny,” the blonde said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the boy on top of him. There was little expression on the brunette’s face, but his eyes were smiling. Then the smile slowly faded into a look of uncertainty. Cloud was about to ask what was wrong when he noticed Squall’s face as getting closer to his. Holding his breath for a moment, he could barely believe it when he felt those soft lips on his. The residual shock was enough to incapacitate him for a moment; a moment too long, almost, for Squall leaned back and stared at the shocked expression fearfully.
Reaching up with a pale hand, Cloud pulled the younger male back for a second kiss. Swiftly rolling their positions so he was on top, the blonde quickly deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue passed Squall lips. The taste was intoxicating, and it was all he could do to remember that Squall did have to breathe. Breaking away from the kiss, Cloud immediately set to work on the brunette’s neck, barely giving him enough to inhale sharply.
“Ah, C-Cloud, your hand is c-cold,” Squall moaned as Cloud’s cold skin found it’s way under his shirt, torn between stopping the quite enjoyable ministrations and exerting his dominance over the older male.
Almost immediately, the blonde pulled away completely, smiling down sheepishly at the disheveled brunette. “Sorry, I guess that should wait until later,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?” Squall asked.
Collapsing so he was laying over the other boy’s chest, head laying off the younger teen’s shoulder, Cloud whispered, “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of screwing you.”
Blushing profusely at that comment, the only thing he could come up with for a reply was, “W-what makes you think you’ll be the one doing the screwing?”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” the blonde said, chuckling slightly.
“Yeah,” Squall agreed, resting a hand on the other male’s back. They stayed like that for several moments, calming themselves down and breathing in the other’s scent. “Cloud, I think I love you,” Squall stated after a time, creating an unseen smile on Cloud’s face.
“I think I love you too, Squall,” the blonde replied.
Neither heard the low growl or saw the figure that created it. To say the least, she was not happy with the scene she had just witnessed.

He could smell the problem before he even got to the orphanage; blood. After watching his parents get killed in the war it was an unmistakable stench to him. Starting to hyperventilate, he sped up, turning a corner to lay eyes on the ordinary-looking door. Cautiously approaching it, he was about to open it when he heard voices inside.
“What did you do?” came Cloud’s familiar voice.
“I got rid of the problem,” a woman replied. “Well, mostly, that brunette boy wasn’t here.”
“Why would you do this, Mom?” Cloud asked, desperation lacing his words.
“Because he was becoming a distraction to you,” she replied. “You have a duty to your people and I will not let this human distract you.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Squall threw the doors open. He almost threw up right on the spot at the scene before him. Blood and body parts littered the church floor. Bodies were mutilated almost beyond recognition, thought the faces were left intact. Selphie’s cold, dead eyes stared at him, her entrails strewn about the floor and church pews. Seifer, who he had spent many days fighting with, was not dismembered in front of the girl, missing both arms, half of a leg, and part of his torso. None of the others were better off, Zell being torn literally in half and Quistis having a large gash running from one shoulder to the opposite hip, a small amount of flesh barely keeping her body together. With the door finally open, the smells of death could finally assault him full force; not only the smell of blood, but also the smell of urine and intestinal contents.
At first he could not locate Mother Edea, and after cringing at the sight of his friends his eyes turned to focus on Cloud. “Squall, this is not what it looks like, I swear,” the blonde started, taking a couple steps. Horrified, the brunette nearly tripped down the couple steps leading up to the church.
“Don’t lie to him,” the woman said, holding something that looked similar to leather in her hand. “Are you looking for her?” she asked, holding up the item for Squall to see.
It was the Mother’s face.
Only then did he see her body. The woman was standing on what was let of Mother Edea’s torso. One arm was still attached, but her head and everything below her naval was torn off. He could only guess, but most likely the blood sprayed on the altar and cross belonged to her. Closing his eyes against the horrific scene, Squall doubled over and expelled the contents of his stomach.
“Now, don’t you think you should join the-” she started, pausing when an arrow whizzed by her. It would have pierced her heart had she not moved. “You guys,” she hissed at first, the anger slowly turning to amusement. Laughing manically, she said, “Very well, we will take our leave. Good luck, little boy. And just remember, this is all because you associated with us.”
Still in a state of shock, he could only stare as she vanished, Cloud deftly dodging the arrows raining into the church. “Squall, I swear, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he tried, wincing as an arrow caught him in the arm. “Squall, please…” he started, trailing off as the scared look in those blue pools turned to hate and rage. “I’m sorry.”
A young girl walked up to him as Cloud turned and followed the woman. She had long, dark hair and kneeled down next to him, resting comforting hands on his shoulders. “Those were vampires,” she explained. “They are made specifically to hunt and kill humans. I am sorry you had to see something like this. Squall, right? That’s what he called you.”
“No,” the brunette said once he found his voice again. “Not Squall. From now on, please call me Leon.”

Leon walked through the door looking more broken than he had in years. Chuckling ironically at himself, he drug his body down the hall towards the room he had been given, wishing there was some way to turn back the clock. He wanted to hate Cloud again, for it was so much easier to hate him. Facing the truth was so much harder.
Cloud was someone he could blame, an opponent he might be able to defeat, when the true cause of his misery, the true reason everyone was dead was not because of Cloud, but because of that woman. He didn’t know who she was, though, so he couldn’t chase after her.
“So how’d it go?” Axel asked when he entered.
“It didn’t,” Leon replied, voice dead.
“What? Did he catch on to you?” the redhead pried, getting up off his bed. He nearly jumped back in fright at the weak laughter his mentor gave him in return.
“No, he didn’t,” the brunette stated. “I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t get myself to kill him.”
“Why?” Axel asked, voice unexpectedly sentimental.
“Because it’s not his fault. He’s not the one who killed my family. And I don’t hate him. I never did.”
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Infected