Run!

Heart pounding faster than his fleeing feet Takaba run down one grey corridor after another.

Escape!

Gun shots fired from indeterminate directions. Whichever way he went it felt as though he was running to his enemy.

Quick!

Asami was here somewhere. He was fighting his way through, Takaba knew this yet…

Help me!

He wanted to just run away, leave all the noise behind and just curl up in silence. He'd had enough of death and hurt and violence; of threats and pain and fear. The photographer wanted to escape somewhere safe.

He'd been investigating a rumour of a suspected corrupt policeman who was a part of a gang. Unfortunately he was found out and captured. While not the brightest sparks of the underworld they knew enough that Takaba was worth something as Asami's supposed 'plaything'.

So instead of just killing him they'd tied him up and just left him in a corner. For 2 days he had had nothing to eat. He was fed water at intermediate times, just enough to sustain his life. From the corner of the warehouse he'd been unable to close his eyes to their…'business'.

Tears slid down his cheeks unnoticed as his eyes widened in horror at the sights he was witnessing. Kneecaps broken, fingers removed, questioning and blood. So much blood, too much blood. Surely no one could survive that? So red, like precious rubies tumbling, flowing, running freely. Running free? That's what he wanted to do wasn't it? Run free like the blood.

Takaba frowned. No if he was running free like the blood surely that would mean he was hurt and dying? He didn't want to die; he had to become a high-class photographer to show Asami he could!

"Oi Kurata! Can we play with the kid?"

Takaba looked up. Kid? He was no kid! He glared as the gangster slouched forward towards him.

"No, we need him alive to give back to Asami" answered whom Takaba now took to be 'Kurata'.

Kurata continued lazily "Although if Asami doesn't pay up soon we may have to send a finger or an ear to chivvy him along…"

Takaba's breath caught. A finger? Ear? They were going to mutilate him? For what, a little money?! Dammit, if only he wasn't so weak he would escape. But his vision was hazy at best. His stomach had long since stopped growling. There was only a dull ache accompanied by the occasional sharp spike of pain that indicated the acids there were beginning to dissolve him from the inside out. He was having trouble forming coherent thoughts and keeping his mind on track. He frequently found himself drifting off into a haze of tangled day-dreams.

The only time he could focus was when they threatened or taunted him. As much as he tried to hide it, they scared him. If they were trying to sell him back to Asami they obviously didn't know the Yakuza well. Surely they knew Asami would destroy them for something like this?

But perhaps they didn't care. And that was a far more chilling thought.

Just as he'd been about to drift off gun fire had started up in the distance. The gang that had previously been lounging around all jumped to their feet and ran towards the sound. Seconds later Takaba could hear more gun shots.

Now that everyone had left he could shuffle his body to the left and cut his bonds on the shard of glass he's seen poking from a small, low lying broken window. Hands free the photographer quickly untied his feet and removed his gag.

Adrenaline rushed through his system granting him false energy to make good his escape.

He ran.

The sound of his crazed heartbeat drowned out any noise his bare feet may have had upon the floor. Turning another corner he was confronted with a dead body. The dark blood was already congealing the dirty floor.

Fighting back a wave of nausea Takaba made to run past when he noticed the abandoned gun a few feet away. Barely pausing as he scooped it up on his way past he staggered onwards to where the noise was loudest because surely that would be where Asami was, and Asami would rescue him and let him run somewhere nice and quiet…

Stealing quietly towards a corrugated iron door he pulled it ajar and peeked through the gap.

What greeted him was a bloodbath.

Several bodies lay strewn about the room, although it looked as though none of them were Asami's men who had set themselves up in various parts of the room. Blood swas splattered across the floors and walls. The dead lay silently while the wounded moaned pitiously. The overstimulation of the noise, danger and stench of blood induced another surge of adrenaline that gave him the bravery to ease himself into the edge of the fight.

Takaba watched carefully. Yes, Asami was definitely winning! Just as a smile began to make its way onto his face he noticed Kurata sneaking into position behind Asami who was focused in front.

"No!"

The shout rose unbidden from his throat as he raised his stolen gun and fired.

Once.

Twice.

Kurata fell.

Takaba was left standing, frozen in horror at what he had done. He was unable to tear his eyes from the red liquid that oozed from the holes in the corpse's back, impossibly bright in the dingy lighting.

Hearing the shots behind him Asami had turned quickly only to see his quarry standing, legs braced apart, gun still raised. The yakuza's eyes quickly took in the thinner frame, skin stretched thin over hollowed cheeks, bruised with shadows from the bags under defiant eyes.

But he was alive.

More relief than he cared to admit filled Asami. Glancing round to his men who had now subdued the last two opponents and had tied them up he called over Kirishima. "Take Takaba to the car waiting outside and take him straight home" he commanded quickly. Kirishima nodded in reply before taking the gun out of the shocked boy's hands before leading him, almost like a child, from the building.

Suppressing a sigh, Asami turned to the bound men in front of him. They were going to give him answers about why they took his little photographer before dying a particularly messy death.

Even his own men shuddered at the dark smirk that graced his lips.

Kirishima glanced back frequently at the boy in the back seat. He was vaguely worried about him. Usually the brat was loud and obnoxious, now he sat curled up his seat staring sightlessly out of the window, breaths still frantic and short. At this rate the brat might go into shock which would be a nuisance, especially as he might get the blame…

Luckily the boss's apartment was just up ahead. Once he dumped the boy there it wouldn't be his business any longer.

Takaba staggered through the doorway of Asami's home, not even hearing the door shut behind as Kirishima quickly withdrew.

Kirishima was not as unfeeling as he appeared. He was genuinely worried for his boss's 'mistress'. The boy was coming apart at the seams. His breathing was still uneven and rapid and his skin was slick with a sheen of sweat. Feeling for a pulse he felt it rapid but weak, suggesting the boy was indeed going into shock.

Dialling quickly he called his boss

"Asami-sama…"

Blood.

Sticky, red, pretty. Pretty?

Deadly, free.. Free? Was he free now? Yes he was free!

Blood.

He'd killed! He had blood on hands. It coated them! It was everywhere, he was soaked, it dripped down his back and was coating his skin.

He looked up.

Blood!

It was splattered all over the walls. Dripping and messy and everywhere and his fault!

A low moan escaped as he curled his legs to his chest and rocked himself in the corner of the kitchen. He could still hear the cry as he'd shot Kurata, and the blood.

High-pitched keening tore demented and wild from this throat. His hands grasped at his hair in anguish and pulled it from his head.

He had killed someone!

A cry rent itself from deep inside before the keening started up again. He felt the shudders rack his thin frame.

What had he done?

Hearing the news Asami left the clear-up to Suoh before exiting quickly to a second car that was waiting. He quickly drove back to his flat and run up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the lift.

He knew it was psychological shock his Akihito was going into now, but it could still be dangerous, especially given the state he was in. Coming to a stop outside his own door he took a breath to steady himself before walking in.

A terrible sound that clawed at his soul met him. Nodding to Kirishima to indicate the man left he made his way quickly to the kitchen where Akihito was curled in upon himself.

Seeing the boy so far gone he knelt down and took Akihito's hands away from abusing his head.

"Akihito" Asami called gently. No response

"Akihito" A little louder this time, and a moan was the response he got.

"Akihito, you're safe now. It's ok now. I'm here now and you're safe…" Asami continued his litany of soft reassurances. Slowly drawing the young photographer into his arms and stroking his hair.

Once the shaking had subsided and Takaba's breathing had evened out along with his pulse Asami at last stood up. Back cracking several times from have been hunched over his little lover for so long he reached back down and picked the unresisting boy up.

He strode to the bathroom where he proceeded to bath them both in the hot water, for once not engaging in any perverted activities, before drying off and dressing Akihito in a pair of pyjama bottoms.

All the while Akihito had not uttered a single sound. His eyes were dull and stray tears occasionally streaked down his ashen cheeks.

Laying him carefully in bed Asami climbed in after and held Takaba close within the protection of his muscled arms. Softly kissing Akihito's face he continued whispering comforting nothings until at last Akihito spoke.

"I killed him."

Asami paused. "I know" he answered before resuming his light kisses.

"I killed someone, I took his life, how can you still-?" Takaba broke off in despair. How could Asami still hold him like this? Didn't he see the blood that still coated the photographer's hands?

"I know, but if you hadn't, I would be dead."

Akihito started. Asami, dead? In all his guilt he'd forgotten why he had pulled that trigger. For Asami…

Suddenly the older was above pinning the younger's arms outstretched either side. Looking straight down, gold eyes bored into brown and carefully spoke. "You pulled that trigger to save my life, so the guilt is mine."

Brown eyes blinked. And again. Then cleared and softened with trust. "Ok Asami…" he huffed and looked to the side in embarrassment. "Make me forget..."

Asami's eyes glowed with sudden lust. The last time those words had been spoken to him was back on that island after the incident in Hongkong…

"If you wish, you are mine, Akihito" he growled deeply in his throat as he this time he engaged the man below him in a frenzied, passionate kiss of teeth and tongue.

He would make Takaba Akihito forget everything, until only he remained in the boy's mind…

A/N Well, that was my first attempt at a Viewfinder story... what do you think? I know they're aren't exactly in character but, Asami was really sweet to Takaba on that island... Anyway if people want I could add a lemon chapter? So please review and tell me what you think.

Thanks for reading ^^