I promise I'm working on some longer stuff! But sometimes something sets off a trigger and a story leaps into my head and demands to come out. I had to set this little brain-worm free.

I apologise to the people who have trouble with the switching perspectives. I've tried various ways to show whose perspective it is, but I find it takes from the story. There's only two perspectives, and they alternate, so don't try reading this if you're distracted :)
~Risu


Predator/Prey

by Kobutori Risu


O

He is beautiful, and he knows it.

He hides himself behind fabric, behind his attitude of couldn't-care-less, disguising his beauty to the best of his ability. It is to no avail. You don't need to see his face, his skin, to know that he is beautiful. He is all predatory litheness and grace. He radiates power. He exudes sex.

Whenever he comes into a room, everyone stops breathing for just a moment. Even when he appears completely at ease, there is an instinctive recognition of the danger. They don't realise they do it. You do.

The only ones who aren't completely awed by him are the young, and the naive. They haven't seen the wolf behind the mask. You don't make friends with wolves. They see the lack of concern, the casualness, the facade. Sometimes they see the power and are amazed. They don't know enough to be terrified.

He is death, and death is magnificent.

O

He is beautiful, and he doesn't know it.

His eyes are mysterious dark pools you could drown in. He seems completely oblivious to the way his smile lights up his face. You want to see what other, more carnal expressions would do to that face. You want to reveal the passion you know is waiting for release.

Whenever he comes into a room, everyone becomes just that little bit brighter. They don't realise how much his presence lifts their spirits. They don't seem to really notice him. You do.

He is kind and he is breathtaking. He is politeness and calm, wrapped around a tempest. There are times when he lets the power of the storm rage for just a moment. It is the one concession he now allows himself to reveal the vulnerability that he contains inside. No one else seems to realise how much damage and pain he hides behind his smile. Like you, he has his personal heartaches that have left him with scars no one can see. But more than that, he helps shape the children he loves into weapons. And when they go out into the world, some of them meet people like you. And some of them don't come home.

His smile is heartbreaking.

O

You want to pull his mask down and kiss him senseless.

But you don't because you are afraid.

Something about him makes you feel so vulnerable. Even though you are also shinobi, you feel like he could tear out your throat before your heart had time to beat. He could have anything, anyone he wants. If he truly looked at you, you would surely die.

O

You want to pull his hair free, tangle your fingers in it and pull his shocked face to your own.

But you don't because you are afraid.

You are confident and you are untouchable, but something about him makes you feel so vulnerable. You are afraid that you could drown in his eyes and be consumed by the tempest.

O

You wander, lost in your thoughts. You sit on a bench. It's that same bench. You sat here once, with him. He spoke to you as if you were real. You have never forgotten the way he made you feel. Valuable. He told you to open your heart.

You sigh, and as if your sigh has summoned him, suddenly he is there beside you, his intense gaze upon you. You want him to eat you alive. That heart which you opened jumps into your throat and hammers. He must be able to see your pulse leaping.

He speaks to you, and he assumes your sigh is about the student you opened your heart for. He is out in the world, you haven't seen him for some time. But while you miss him, you are not afraid for him. He is in capable hands, and he will change the world.

O

You see him. He sits on the bench beneath the tree branch you are lurking in. He doesn't notice you. Again. This has happened before, not long after you first started to really see him. He sighs, and your breath hitches.

You drop out of the tree beside him. His head turns to you, with surprise in his doe-like eyes. Those rich, dark eyes widen further when they see that it is you. You can see his pulse beating in his throat. His breath quickens. Is he afraid of you? Why wouldn't he be. You are terrifying. You are death.

You ask him if he is worried about the student he allowed inside his heart. The heart that you want to eat so no one else can have it. You watch his face as he replies. You are wrong. That is not what had him lost in thought.

O

If it is not that, he asks, then what is it that causes you to sigh so deeply? He offers to listen to you, but how can you tell him that it is he that occupies your mind? You lose yourself in his gaze. Your breath comes awkwardly to your throat. You have no words, no voice. You shake your head silently. He smiles and stands.

Your breath stops as he walks away, hand raised in a farewell salute.

O

You want to reach into his mind and lay it bare before you. You want his smile to burn you. He is the kind of person that people go to when they need someone to listen. But who listens to him? You make the same offer you made at this very spot once before. You offer to listen. He looks at you. You get lost in his unfathomable eyes. You struggle to breathe. He shakes his head silently.

You take your opportunity to flee, before you drown.

O

You watch him go, and you don't want him to leave. You don't hide the desire in your eyes. He isn't looking to see. While nothing escapes that penetrating gaze, even he can't see what he isn't looking at.

You don't realise you were holding your breath again until it releases in another sigh.

O

You hear him sigh once again. It travels through the space between you like a shuriken. You stop, dead in your tracks and snap around to look at him, before he has a chance to re-erect his facade. And you see it. The want, the need, the desire. His eyes widen. He realises just what he has revealed.

O

He suddenly stops and spins around, faster than should be humanly possible. His gaze slams into yours and you know he saw it, before you got your mask back into place. You panic.

You run like a deer that has happened upon a hungry wolf. You leap away over rooftops, through trees. You run. He chases. You can hear his breath as he closes in on you. It is hopeless. You cannot run from him. You drop into a clearing and turn to face him. Your legs tremble. You hold your hands out in front of you like a shield.

O

He runs. Worst decision. You are a hunter. You hunger for him. Your own rationale and fear are consumed by your instinct to chase. He is faster than you would have expected, but there is no escape. You are a predator and he is your prey. There is nowhere to go you cannot find him. His panicked flight takes you over rooftops and through trees. You are closing in on him. You can hear his breathing. He realises it is hopeless and falls into a clearing. He turns to face you, hands out, fending you off, naked panic in his eyes.

O

He drops in front of you and comes towards you. His eye flares with unspeakable intensity. He looks... hungry. He's going to tear out your throat and drink your blood.

O

He backs away from you. You close in. "I'm sorry," he says holding those hands out in front of him, "I'm sorry."

O

His hands grab the front of your vest and lifts you up bodily. You have to rise up onto your toes. He looks angry. "Why?" he asks you, his face inches from your own. You can't meet his eye. You can't look away. You close your eyes.

O

He looks terrified. Terrified and confused. You release him and he backs away hastily. "Why did you hide it? Why were you so good at it?" Your voice shakes.

O

You back away from him, confused and terrified. He follows you with that lazy, effortless stride that says he knows the world is his, and he can have everything he wants.

O

He trips backwards over a tree root and falls onto his back.

O

He drops on top of you, straddling your hips. It is over. You offer him your throat and wait for the teeth to bite, the hands to choke you. Neither happens. He does raise his hands, but not to you.

O

You raise your hands to your face and free yourself from your mask.

You let him SEE.

O

His hands reveal himself. You glory in the naked beauty of his face. You are in awe of the helpless expression it holds. You feel warmth curling in the pit of your stomach.

You want to eat him alive.

O

As he sees you, really sees you, his face changes. He looks at you hungrily, predatorily. He is so very beautiful. Your heart hammers in your throat. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you down so your lips meet his.

You were right to be afraid.

He utterly consumes you.


O

End.


Review! I love this story. Did you?