Fandom: Slam Dunk

Summary: How much hell can there be in the arcane depths of an empty mask? How much of it can be captured in a single spool of tape?

Title: On The Reel

Author: Hana Rui

Genre: shounen-ai, tragedy, death-fic

Pairing: Akira Sendoh x Kaede Rukawa [SenRu]

"-blood, blood-enough rich, deep red blood to stain the soul of the universe. And yet that is still not enough blood because the climax is still at hand."

-Beverly La Belle, on Snuff

His heart lurched at the initial sight. Kept its ragged beating as his mind gradually took in the actuality of the green plastic bag in front of him. He could vaguely hear hurrying footsteps from behind, but his mind was already getting overworked by grave premonitions to take notice.

-0-

He wondered how much longer it was gonna last. He was aching already. Badly. The pain was crawling all over his skin faster than any of these guys' lecherous hands, their ravenous tongues and… injurious being.

And all these for just a few thousand yens…

-0-

He crouched down and picked the rubber mask beside the bag. The blank look on its face could rival only one blank expression he had known and surreptitiously loved through the years. One that had never allowed him to see through the guy's restrictive façade despite his many frustrated attempts.

One that was now holding him back from seeing through the mystery of his sudden disappearance.

He turned the mask over and gasped at the sight that met his eyes…

-0-

He could hardly breathe through the inhumane torture he was being subjected to. The groan that escaped him was extremely agonized as the pain cruised through him again, sharp and biting, running from his chest down to his groin. Blood was already trickling down his mouth, richly staining the inner side of the suffocating rubber mask covering his face.

Their crazed, ill-boding laughter rang in his ears as that thing was raised above him once again, glimmering momentarily as though to mock his helplessness before delving into him in maniacal succession…

Each time more forceful… Each time more inspired.

-0-

He leaned against the wall, doused in both dread and cold sweat, his glazed eyes stuck unwaveringly on the group of policemen fussing over the contents of the bag. A single glimpse was all it took for the truth to get dawned on him… His last view of the heaven he had never known-

The mangled pieces of a love yet to be granted… No more.

-0-

They never told him this could happen. He knew he should never have trusted them, but he had no other choice. He needed the money. Desperately enough that he agreed to work for them when they came to him on first try.

Now he had only a few seconds left to mourn over his impulsiveness, regret his stupid decision to take part in these demons' perverted rites. Their absurdly infernal manner of satisfying their animalistic desires.

He thought he was being casted in a movie-a simple porno flick lasting half an hour or so. It sounded safe enough, aside from all its degrading implications. And the fee was reasonably lofty anyway so he delved into it, without as much as a second thought…

Now, as he felt and witnessed the lurid sight before him. The horribly twisted faces amidst the thoughtless butchery of flesh—his own—he couldn't help but smile to himself.

An ironic smile hidden behind the rubber mask as his blurring gaze met the ensnaring glint of the lenses…

The camera had been rolling all along.

-0-

His back slid down the wall, his knees practically turning into cold, feeble goo. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out yet. He decided to do that later—if he ever managed to live through all this in the first place.

He could not believe this guy could actually still frustrate him out of his wits even in his death. Typical Kaede Rukawa, the walking Ice-Block of Kanagawa… The unfeeling snob who didn't seem to possess a set of nerves receptive enough for any human emotion—

What man would actually be cruel and heartless enough to put such an innocent soul through this much cruelty? How much could an extremely nonchalant guy, who didn't seem to have any care in the world, have offended any possible assailant?

How?

How?

Why…?

"Who did this to you, Kaede?" he demanded of no one as embittered sobs began racking him up in convulsive succession.

He turned to his side and was squarely met by dark, empty eye-slits staring derisively up at him.

He knew the answers were there… Hidden in the frustrating depths of the rubber mask's vacant expression.

Typical Kaede… was the lone thought that went slithering through his mind as a bitter smile gradually spread itself across his lips.

-end-

Thanks for reading! :)