A Most Succulent Apple

YamiNoTomoyo

-(YnT)-

Chapter 3 – Shatter a Mirror

"Then I'm right," Tomoyo said after some time. "You really are–"

"Yes," Eriol replied, cutting her off. For some reason, he didn't want to hear her say it again. Hearing the word upon her lips just once was enough!

"You have a lot of control," Tomoyo observed shrewdly. "It must be difficult for you to mingle in a crowd like that, but you looked perfectly normal."

Eriol's smile was quite bitter. "It is difficult, but I am used to it," he informed her. There were more words in that sentence than he had even said to her until then.

"You noticed me instantly, though, as soon as I was close enough that being upwind didn't make a difference."

Of course he did. She was his Possessed. But she wouldn't understand that. Tomoyo was only human. And besides that…

Eriol realized with slight surprise that he didn't want to tell her. Telling her would be like admitting not only to lusting for her blood, but for her body, and for her. Admitting to loving her, not only to her, but to himself, out loud for the first time.

So his quick wits worked for him. "I knew you as a human, and smelled your blood just once… well, later," he lied. "Not to mention, your blood is Japanese. It's a striking change from all these westerners."

"A regular blood connoisseur?" Tomoyo asked with a slight smile.

"Perhaps." Eriol's smile was even less pronounced.

"I'm sorry. Am I troubling you for wanting to speak to you like this?"

"Being upwind helps quite a bit, and actually the talking helps, as well. It reminds me."

"That I'm human. That I'm me."

Eriol gulped. "Yes."

"Well, now that we've established that…" Tomoyo smiled. "How are you? Is life as a vampire treating you well?"

Count on Tomoyo to make light of this. Eriol couldn't help but smile a little wider. "It's fine. Different. But fine."

"I'm glad."

"Why aren't you running? Why aren't you afraid?" he asked hesitantly.

Tomoyo shrugged slowly. "For one, you're Eriol. I know you. For another, I know your control is impeccable. I don't think I have to worry too much. And three… I don't care. I know you have killed. I know you have sucked the life out of so many. But I don't care. You're still Eriol, and it's your way to survive, not something you enjoy. Am I right?"

"Spot on," he muttered. "Except for my control. You're overestimating me in that area. Control is the most important of all, as well. Luckily I'm… Well fed, but if I was hungry, I would be as I was last night. And you would be dead. You almost were, yesterday."

"Well, I'm not dead yet."

"I thought you were supposed to be the sensible, play-it-safe one in the group."

Her smile was positively innocent. "Who, me?" she asked playfully. "Ohohoho!"

Eriol remembered that laugh all too well.

"Eriol – I'll go now. I'm sure you have something you need to be doing. Will you please come by again, sometime? Just so I know you're alright, and so that you can learn that I'm still your friend, whatever you are."

"Thank you, Tomoyo. I will come back," he said quietly. He didn't ever intend to return to this area if he could help it.

"Promise me."

Eriol cursed her perception. She really did know too much. "I… I can't do that, Tomoyo."

"I see. Then I ask you only to close your eyes, and hold your breath for just a moment. Please?"

"What are you doing?" Eriol asked furiously. His eyes narrowed, catlike somehow. "I won't let you do something stupid."

"Maybe you don't trust yourself, but I trust you. So you should trust yourself, Eriol. Close your eyes. I don't have a death wish."

"Fine," Eriol muttered. He could hardly deny her for long, as usual. He almost felt like himself again, closing his eyes and holding his breath.

He could still sense her, and smell her. But it was better.

She crept over slowly, as if ready to dart away at a moment's notice – not that doing so would help. Bit by bit she inched forward, one step at a time.

Eriol did his best, in the meantime, to think of something else. He thought of the other blood he smelled, far off in the distance. He thought of the many sounds he heard, like the rustling of falling leaves in the wind, or the yelling and laughing of students on the path. Never of the girl, whose blood and body he so desired to make his own, who with every second became that much closer.

Finally, she stood right by him. Eriol thought time had distorted itself to a pace a snail would find slow.

Tomoyo leaned forward, and touched his hand. Eriol remained as still as stone, fighting off the sparks of primal instinct that her touch incurred beneath his dead skin.

Daringly she took her chances and kissed his cheek. Eriol informed her, tightly, "Don't run away quickly. It brings out a hunter's senses."

Following his orders, Tomoyo slowly withdrew. Eriol still didn't dare move even an inch. If he did… It would not be pretty.

"There, see?" he heard Tomoyo say. She was far away now, like before. "You lived. I lived. So, good night, Eriol. Please try to return, even if you do think that you're endangering me."

Then, she walked away slowly. Eriol waited torturously until he could no longer smell her, then let go of his breath at last, heaving a sigh of relief.

Opening his eyes, he took inventory. He was shaken, he was overjoyed, he was rattled, he was horny (for lack of a better word), but he was in control.

Tomoyo was right. I didn't even twitch, despite how much I wanted to, he thought. As if I needed more proof of my iron control. He thought that with a terrible laugh of complete shock. Though, I still have to be careful. It wouldn't do to slip from overconfidence. This was both a huge relief, and a huge problem. Now I'll be fighting myself over whether or not I should go see her, and next time, if there is one, may not be so lucky or pleasant.

Grimacing Eriol left the area, and merged back into the traffic of students.

Still, it was nice to see Tomoyo. It is nice to know she is well. But it would have been better, for everybody, if we had never met again.

Eriol didn't have any idea how right, and how wrong, he really was.

-(YnT)-

As promised, Damien met Eriol in front of the Orchid's Kiss bar. Damien had only been waiting a few minutes, luckily. The blonde vampire pushed himself off the wall, no longer leaning against it, and waved.

Eriol did not wave back. He just scowled, looking particularly surly beneath his glasses.

As Eriol approached, Damien asked, "Why do you go on those walks, anyway?"

The gaze he received for his question was peculiarly sharp. Damien winced at it, and at the thin edge of Eriol's voice as he replied, "You followed me?"

"Cool it, Eriol. Only once or twice, months and months ago. Just wanted to see what you were up to, alright? Didn't want you getting in trouble or anything. I haven't followed you since, though. After all, the only thing you do is go on walks when you wear those glasses, and put on a jacket."

At the mention of his glasses, Eriol cooled slightly, and took his spectacles off, tucking them into a pocket. "Please don't follow me again. In answer to your question, I go on those walks to remind myself not to let my hunger dictate my mealtimes. I'm still at least partially human. Pardon the expression," he said with a razor smile, "but I don't have any wish to become a 'cold-blooded' killer."

"Hilarious. You're a comedian, alright," Damien remarked, relaxing at last into a smile. "It's alright. I got the point. No more finding out about Eriol's random secrets, even if one of them might get him killed by Andrea."

"She could try," Eriol muttered, turning to walk towards the bar's entrance.

Damien coughed. "I'm sorry?" he choked out. "You've got to be joking. She'll not only rip your heart out, but she'll shred it to pieces!"

"Again, she could try. I wouldn't let her."

"That's treason, practically," Damien murmured. "Are you sure you're alright? You're never so loose-tongued, or so foolish."

"On a day when I'm not in a terrible mood, perhaps I would be watching my words. But you know what? I'm pissed off. Don't worry, though, I'm in full control. I just don't care, tonight. All I want is a round of drinks and a pretty plaything on my lap."

Damien snorted. "You came to the right place."

Eriol glared at him lazily, landing his bottom soundly on a stool still open at the counter. "Yes, I know. Thank you for inviting me. And I'm sorry, you don't deserve my anger, but I appreciate that you're enough my friend to bear with it anyway."

With a shrug and a grin, Damien slunk into the crowd, mingling and smiling at any women he saw as he wove his way through.

"You're in a right state."

Turning, Eriol saw the Orchid's bartender, a charming man of twenty-six, whose good looks were outweighed by the sleazy atmosphere he carried with him.

"Damn right I am."

"Coming right up," the bartender replied. Within moments there was a frothy beer in front of Eriol, which the blue-eyed man proceeded to take a nice gulp of. He set it back down, and cast his eyes over the bar.

There was, of course, a reason for Andrea's hatred of this place. It was the people who came to it. They weren't people just looking for fun, partygoers, or younger people enjoying themselves. The Orchid was a hotspot for violence and illegal activities, perhaps one of the few of its kind in this more successful area of London. Most who went there were looking for trouble, drugs, or sex. It was a simple as that. In short, the Orchid's Kiss was as deadly as it sounded.

A flirt with luminous purple hair and a shirt so low-cut that her breasts were all but sticking out approached Eriol with a smile and lowered lashes. "Well, well, well. What's a sweet thing like you doing in a fine place like this?"

To her smile, Eriol answered with a grin. "Getting myself inebriated to the point where my BAC is probably outside the limits of legality, while observing as a most curious acquaintance of mine befriends every female in sight for a minimum of three minutes."

She sniffed. "Intelligence. Overrated," she muttered, moving away.

Eriol smirked at her back, thinking that her blood would taste disgusting with such a variety of drugs in it, and then searched the crowd for Damien. As expected, he had two girls, both apparently not caring about the other girl, hanging off his shoulders. Judging by the bored look on Damien's face, both of them would live through the night.

By now he had emptied his beer glass. Suddenly there was a loud crash to his left. Eriol looked over. A glass had shattered upon the ground, thrown by a man whose bulk far outweighed his brains.

And just as suddenly, Eriol was bored. Perhaps for the usual bouts of depression, Eriol could drown himself in alcohol and idiots, but not tonight. Tomoyo was involved, which changed everything. Disgusted with himself as always, Eriol hopped off the barstool and began to walk towards the exit, his look promising death to any who crossed his path.

"Hey! You paying?" the bartender shouted.

Eriol looked back and smirked at the man. "You can try to make me pay. You'll regret it. Besides, I come here often enough; surely you can go a week or two without the pay for one drink. I'll be in a better mood then, and less inclined to stuff you in a cabinet and lock it."

The bartender shrugged and looked away, deciding – wisely, Eriol thought – to pick his fights.

Damien wouldn't care that Eriol had left. He was free to go. Whistling a tune, Eriol left, deciding he would head to a less pleasant part of town where nobody would find him.

As he walked, still giving glares that promised hell to anybody who crossed his path, Eriol allowed himself to be washed over with self-loathing.

He was being a bastard, and he knew it. Shame on him. Where had that Eriol charm gone? That everlasting smile that could open so many doors? Where had the days of his quick wit, not his horrifying threats, disappeared to? With a short laugh, Eriol realized what his behavior reminded him of. He was acting like Syaoran when they had first met. Quick to hate, slow to care, and with utter disregard for anybody else. He was not only being a disgusting asshole, he was becoming a disgusting asshole.

But as much as he hated himself for it, what else was he going to do? He had no sweet-natured too-innocent Sakura to turn him around. He was gloriously alone with himself and his secrets, all of which, he knew, would be the last of him in the end. Whenever that was.

Eriol chuckled to himself. He had just realized when this had all started. It was Tomoyo. Her reappearance had cracked open his finely crafted mask, built up over the past couple years to protect the little sanity left in him. What a joke. He hoped tomorrow he would wake up all afresh; perhaps with his mind repaired and ready to deal with the night.

A shadow of movement caught Eriol's eye. He had drifted into a part of London he rarely visited, and only now realized there was a slight danger in coming here alone and undeclared.

He cursed his own forgetfulness and began to pay attention to his surroundings. Within a moment or two he had identified at least three, maybe four vampires following him.

It would be best for him to pretend he didn't see them. Maybe if he simply continued on his way, and then turned back into better territory, they would leave him be. Maybe.

With this in mind, Eriol continued to stroll across the street, pretending to watch the cars pass by. Careless, he scolded. Stop thinking so much.

He made a turn, heading back towards a more familiar area, and found himself stopped by another vampire.

"What are you doing here?" the vampire asked, pretending nothing was wrong. To anybody else, it might have been an unexpected reunion of acquaintances. To the more informed, this was as dangerous as it could possibly be.

Eriol smiled kindly. "I'm just going for a little walk," he said kindly. "Nothing more. I'm from Andrea's group; we've no quarrel. I'm here by my own volition, though. Nobody else needs to know. Your name is… Ronald, isn't it?"

"Yes." Ronald's eyes slitted dangerously. "Just a walk, huh? That's fine. I just hope you don't intend to do anything more than walk, Eriol."

"You do know my name, then," Eriol said with another smile. "Then, naturally, you know I pose no danger. I won't make a mistake, especially without Andrea's consent."

"Even so, I'm sure you won't mind if a friend of mine accompanies you. Making sure you find your way back safely. We wouldn't want you to get lost, now would we?"

"Of course not. I appreciate your kindness, Ronald. May we never meet again," Eriol replied, still charming. Inwardly he sighed at the fact that he was going to be watched all the way back, but there was nothing he could do.

Well, there was something he could do, perhaps, but quite frankly he preferred to avoid that alternative. He hated fighting. It was much better to just let things be.

Ronald nodded slowly, and then walked past Eriol and around the corner – no doubt only intending to double back and follow Eriol for a while.

It seemed tonight was just not his night, Eriol thought, rubbing his forehead. Could things possibly go any more wrong?

-(YnT)-

Far, far away from London, a boy, looking to be about the age of seventeen, and acting about the age of twenty or twenty-one, dropped two stories down and landed gracefully on all fours.

"Oh, stop that," scolded a voice from upon the rooftop. The girl, with a voice as sweet as honey, smiled, and dropped down after him. She seemed the same age, in both ways. "Can't you at least warn me before you fall?" she asked as he caught her in his arms.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked playfully, setting her down.

"We ought to warn somebody, at least," the girl said, looking back at a window on the house.

"A note, then?" the boy smiled, and raised a hand. Though it was visible only to the girl, at the moment, his hand glowed green briefly.

The girl closed her bright eyes for a moment, glowing pink in the boy's eyes, and then reopened them. "That was kind of you. Still, what about…?"

"He already thinks I've corrupted you," the boy replied with a shrug. "As if I'm going to drag you down to hell, or something."

"But aren't you?" the girl murmured. She smiled slyly, a spark in her eyes. "We aren't particularly holy anymore."

"Temptress," the boy growled, kissing her cheek. "You're the corrupted consort of the devil himself."

To the sound of her merry laughter, together they stole away into the night.

-(YnT)-

As Eriol finally came to the edge of the border, he turned around and looked up at the rooftop. "Not bad, Lucille. Work on your timing, though. And by the way, let Ronald know I think I'll head this way tomorrow with a gift, as thanks for allowing my passage, and for not informing Andrea of my little excursion." He tipped his imaginary hat in the girl's direction, and proceeded to make his way back to the haunted house at his highest speed as soon as Lucille had quit following him.

Climbing the stairwell at a more natural pace, he began to hear creaking and groaning from above. Curious, he listened further, and then groaned. Jake and Delia were at it again. What perfect timing, he thought, annoyed.

"Delia!" he heard a masculine voice shout. Eriol winced, and bit back the temptation to yell, "Get a room!" Doubtless, they had one. Sound traveled far too well in this damned building.

Danielle came down the stairs, and seeing Eriol, grinned. "Hey! You're back! Where's Damien?"

"Out, still. Orchid." Danielle pouted, and motioned for Eriol to continue. "I got bored of it all. Andrea's at a party?"

"Yep. We'll all be doting away on her pet later, I'm sure. Or feasting upon him. I'm not sure which."

Noting the red fringe around Danielle's iris, he asked with a smile, "Need a hunt? I'm fine myself, but I don't mind tagging along."

"Thanks, I owe you one." Danielle giggled and kissed Eriol's cheek.

Damn it. I told myself to be nicer, but not this nice, Eriol scolded himself. He'd just let himself in for a mess of a night with a cross-dressing bloodthirsty he-she-it.

Eriol simply loved having friends.

-(YnT)-

Dedication: to, cough, ice cream, without which Syaoran-kun would never be as awesome as he is in this fic.

My thanks to Hentai-chan and Riva-chan, for the usual reasons of them being awesome and betaing and suchlike.

Shameless plug for a story I like: by swallowingtears, "Blossom in a Gilded Cage," rated M. Devious plot, cruelty to Syaoran, and in character or close enough to it. Please note that it is not a fic for those who dislike reading very explicit scenes. If you don't mind such a thing, go read it. Now. You won't regret it.