Disclaimer: The holy oracle X is property of the Holy Goddesses CLAMP and their High Priestess Ohkawa Nanase. The "Intimate Moments" anthology was my idea though so hands off or you'll be speaking to my lawyer ... He's the tall well-dressed individual wearing the shades and standing under the sakura tree ^_^

--
The dark-haired bishouja rolled slowly onto her side in her stirring sleep, exposing a shapely pale breast crowned with a darker erection. Her waking moans didn't interrupt her lover as his lips sought her skin.

"...uuma..."

"/Kamui/," he corrected gently, ascending over the natural curvatures of her thigh.

Arashi shifted onto her elbow and reached out to brush the messy fringe across his forehead. She asked sweetly, "Haven't you had enough?"

"No." Fuuma's smile peaked cruelly over her hip.

*Stupid question.* Arashi chided herself and watched him slide up alongside her with panther-like grace. His lips explored still further: charting the subtle arc of her side, mapping the delicate shoulder of her sword arm up to her own replete lips. He bent to capture the red almond-shaped feature, eyes sliding shut so that he could savour her taste again.

A delicate finger pressed against his poised mouth, gently resisting his advancement. "Do you love me?"

"I pegged you for a brighter little girl, Arashi," Fuuma's brutal honesty was so subtlely wrapped in that voice of velvet it allowed his lover to believe whatever she wanted to.

Arashi smirked, believing what she wanted to, but she wasn't going to let him have her this easily. She pushed her finger past his lips and met his gaze as he took the tip between his teeth and bit down gently, laving the flesh with his tongue. He took the entirety of her forefinger into the silky warm wetness and let her trace the arch of his mouth, smiling involuntarily as her nail tickled his palette. As punishment he bit down hard, breaking the skin.

Arashi felt the sting and then the soothing lapping as Fuuma licked the blood away. By the time he released her finger a small swelling was all that remained of his sadism. "Why'd you do that?"

"I hurt the people I love."

He was serious.

Images of Kamui's rape at the hands of Fuuma's implacable will flooded her thought. Him taking her saviour in such a violent manner and she immobile against her will. All Fuuma had done was smile up at her and put a finger to his lips and she had lost all speech, continuing his forced entry with an audience. Arashi had watched Kamui's agonized lips move, barely, pleading for her to fetch help if she couldn't call for it. But she hadn't and when her now-lover had satisfied himself he had marked her cheek with Kamui's blood and his cum warning her she'd be next. Then being the enigma he was he disappeared. Whatever spell had taken holds of Arashi's limbs freed itself and she had rushed to the violated boy, gathering him into her arms. It was their secret. Humiliation prevented Kamui from ever revealing his savage experience and Arashi's guilt made her his accomplice.

"Why didn't you get help?" Kamui's trembling voice asked out of the depths of painful memory.

*He wouldn't let me.* That was her true lie, her own little secret of which guilt was the keeper.

"Really? That's not the way I remember it," Fuuma interrupted her thought casually and bent to nibble the tender skin of her neck, inflicting a love bite.

Anger flared like cold fire in the black pools of her eyes and she attempted to shove his larger frame off of her. Privacy was not on the cards in a quasi-relationship with Fuuma. Everything was his for inspection at any time. She accepted that because it affected her so little, doing whatever he told her as obdiently as the beautiful biomorph. But her thoughts were her own to reflect on. If he wanted to read them then she couldn't stop him but they weren't open for comment or opinion.

"You're mine, Arashi," Fuuma spoke with an inflicted edge as he pinned her to the bed. Evidently even those inner deliberations were under surveillance. "When I took you every inch of you became mine, right down to the last electrical impulse up here--" He brushed a finger across her forehead from temple to temple. "And just because you're mine doesn't give you any special privileges. You're not a Dragon of Earth no matter what you wish for. That's Fate. Not something even I'd fuck with."

"I didn't wish--"

"I know." The personality that was Fuuma and yet was not reversed itself and he became gentle in nature again, taming the stressed features of her face with ethereal kisses. "You made Kaede a promise after your first meal, you promised your mother before she died. You'll live no matter what the circumstances because you have me. And I'll be the someone who loves you."

Arashi's Wish; her soul's want locked deep within itself and easily hidden courtesy of her stoicical nature. Her greatest weakness revealed in the moment of horrific realization that greeted her when she had interrupted Fuuma's taking of Kamui. She had wanted to live no matter what once she was mature enough to understand her mother's sacrifice and she wanted someone to love her. Sorata wasn't that part of her Wish incarnate. Not the kind of person she was wishing to love her. Did he make her happy? Having your one true Wish granted didn't necessarily make one happy.

The dark messiah clamped his mouth over Arashi's and indulged himself in a lengthly tasting. "I want you, Arashi," he whispered with gentle depravity.

The response Arashi offered was eager. She slipped one delicate hand between her thighs and parted the velvety folds while the other invited his attentive member inside. Fuuma's flexed hand caught his lover's silky thigh, raising her slightly off the bed for deeper penetration. The other he used for support as he bent to bath her throat with his hot mouth. By now Arashi was accustomed to his every motion and synchronized her own rhythm to meet the downward scooping movement of his hips with her own surges. Flames of passion chafed her petals and licked the sides of her passage with each well-rehearsed action. She reacted to the delightful burning discomfort, causing Fuuma to mmph deeply into her neck as she tightened around his arrousal, momentarily displaying a vulnerabilty unaccustomed to his being.

*Am I the only one who can make him feel that? Make him feel like he's not in control?*

"I'm always in control, amai Arashi," Fuuma's whisper was a seductive poison in her ear, tempting her body to respond differently from what he imposed on it. In demonstrative fashion he stroked his palm lovingly across her breast and watched the sensitive bud blossom with an amused smile. His tongue flicked out and lapped the tiny fruit once before he cupped the raised flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Arashi cried out as he pushed her breast upwards, crushing it in his hand.

Her hands slid over his athletic shoulders with the same heavy motion, raking her nails down the glistening tanned skin of his back. Fuuma felt her begin to blossom, lubricating his excitement with her body's release. She tensed in his arms, moaning into the carved hollow of his collar bone.

"Are you there yet?" He asked, delivering a larger, deeper and in every way more impassioned thrust.

Arashi shook her head slightly, enshrined in his physical embrace, and resumed her counter strokes. "Not yet."

She had never been more aware of her surroundings as she was now with all her senses heightened but the only attention she could give was to her own craving body. Love, sex, it didn't matter. Somehow she couldn't picture /Kamui/ demonstrating love in any other way but sex, if he experienced love at all. His need was simple: grant the Earth its Wish and enjoy himself while he was at it. Fuuma's Wish maybe.

His fingers intertwined in Arashi's hair and gripped it into a ponytail at the base of her neck, crushing her against him in an attempt to stifle her body's reluctance to play along. Blinding hot pain shot through her core as he forced his glowing swolleness too thoroughly within. Arashi squirmed, no longer able to maintain the step of their sexual dance. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, blocking out the ache that accompanied the sadistic movement of his abusive erection. It was only the second time she'd let him take her in this way.

"Arashi," Fuuma moaned softly against her earlobe and nibbled affectionately at it with his lips. "I love you." *I love what you can do for me.* A wickedly hungry, concealed smile perched on his lips and then fluttered off at the tightening sensation between his legs, half of which was lost in her nether depths. To bring himself to the brink he pumped wildly into her over a short burst.

Their climax was perfectly timed. Fuuma's handsomely sculptured body shuddered, losing all momentum, as the probing eye opened like a sluice, filling her with his life-giving essence. Arashi's mouth contorted in a vicious cry, not completely silenced by her lover's shoulder as her flower bloomed and received his seed.

The creased sheets and dented pillow caught her as she sank back against them. Her sated lover fell with her in the after bliss, replacing his possessive hold on her body by gathering her in his arms with tender care. The feathery kisses Fuuma laid on her face were pure ecstasy. Arashi moaned gently, arching her neck backwards to create a path for his corporeal love. His thin lips took their first steps, short-cutting around her lips, travelling with slow speed down over her chin and elegant neck and coming to a tentative stop in the valley between her breasts.

"Arashi, do you love me?" Manipulative vulnerability laced his question. Fuuma knew the answer, knew he didn't care whether or not she answered the truth. He didn't care what the truth was anyway. She was his for the rest of her short sweet life.

"Yes." Loving, motherly fingers reached for Fuuma's cheek and cupped the fleshy skin in her palm.

"Will you do something for me?"

Arashi titled her head curiously but the eagerness to obey was still there. "What?"

"Bring me Sorata Arisugawa. He has a very interesting Wish I want to grant."

Fuuma smiled maliciously into Arashi's belly, feeling her every muscle tighten at the request-order. Her hand slipped from his face, heedless. She wasn't even aware of Fuuma's hot wet tongue carving out her navel. Arashi shifted out from under him and left the bed. He watched her lovely naked outline bend to collect her clothing.

"I won't do it," she told him evenly. "That wasn't part of the deal." She retreated to the bathroom in silence.

A devilish grin settled on Fuuma's face as the door clicked locked behind her. "There is no deal, my sweet Arashi," he informed her anti-presence grimly. He grabbed the pillow she had been resting on and stuffed it unceremoniously under his head before dropping off to sleep.

* * *
"Hey Nee-chan!" Sorata yelled urgently as he kicked the front door closed with his sneakered foot. "Are you home?" He shifted the pile of books in his arms and peeked inside the empty living room. "Babe?"

*This isn't like her. Nee-chan wouldn't just leave without saying where or why she was going. Something's wrong. I'm worried, real worried.*

Sorata climbed the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door at the end of the hall. "Arashi, it's me Sora-chan, open up." No response. Ignoring the guilty feeling that nagged him, he entered.

The room was neat and simple but very empty. It sent shivers down Sorata's spine; it reminded him of Nee-chan herself. He stepped out and shook his head, puzzling. A shadow moving in the open doorway of his room caught his attention and he looked inside.

"Arashi?"

Thin strands of black fell sheerly down her back in strong contrast to the innocence of her school uniform. Nothing about her perfect frame moved as she stood at Sorata's dust-collecting desk. When she didn't answer he came inside and dumped the books of the wooden surface and glanced at the object of her attention: his desk blotter. Scribbled variants of Arashi loves Sorata followed by low percentages decorated the tatty feature.

"I was bored," he excused himself and leaned casually on the stack of books. "Your teachers asked me to give you these. They say you weren't in any of your classes today. I covered for you, said you weren't feeling well. Miss...?"

A slender finger highlighted the highest score on the blotter: 43%. "I care about you more than that."

The sadness in her voice went unnoticed as his heart skipped a beat. "I suck at math," he apologized again and sweatdropped when she showed signs of unattentiveness. "It's not like you to cut class. Are you ill? Did someone say something to you?"

"I needed to do some thinking."

"About what? I'm not good with the deep stuff but they say two heads are better than one." Sorata leaned in and pressed his temple to hers affectionately. "Maybe I can help."

The smile on her face was worth more to him than the Fate of the Earth because of it's rare, genuine beauty. *I'd die to see that smile live.* The lovely upturned feature of her lips dissolved almost as soon as it appeared and Arashi took his hand slowly in hers.

"Let's go for a walk. I've been indoors all day, I'm feeling claustrophobic," Arashi's mechanical words worked silently as they left her mouth, the way lying truths often do. *Be smart, Sorata, don't let your guard down, please.*

"Uh, yeah sure." *Jeez, she's acting weird today. Something's definitely wrong.* "But let's leave a note for the others. Wouldn't want 'em to worry about us."

Arashi nodded. "No." She left the message to him.

* * *
The palm of his left hand was starting to sweat and Sorata wondered if Arashi would notice and let go. Probably not. She hadn't paid attention to anything since the start of their wandering stroll through the parks of the city. He wasn't even sure where they were anymore or how late it was. The sun was obscured by the keen skyscrapers of Tokyo and shadows played across the roughly paven path. *Kinda romantic, but I don't think she's in the mood.*

He'd had enough worrying. "Arashi, what's bothering you?" Sorata stopped her with a gentle tug on her hand. "You haven't said a word."

*I can't!* Arashi's mind screamed. *Sorata, run! If you outrun him you can still live!* Her body was about as full of life as a jointless doll. Her heart was the only muscle that worked to give her life and it was rotten wood. Fuuma had control of her.

With Arashi's hand as his weapon of choice /Kamui/ brushed Sorata's cheek, stealing the Kansai boy's breath away. The confused youth caught her hand before it left his skin and studied her curiously. Her free hand curled around his neck, assisting her lesser height as she brought the sensual bud of her lips to his face. The choice Sorata faced was life or death. Kiss her and die or push her away and live. Her soul shouted for him to accept the latter option but she knew the temptation to do otherwise was too strong. Was it that she had the same effect on him as Fuuma had on her?

In the moment Arashi's lips met Sorata's in a goodnight kiss her physique was wrenched from him by a powerful grip. A moment more and he was staring in horrified recognition at Kamui's Twin Star, arms wrapped indulgently around Arashi, chin resting on her delicate shoulder.

"Arashi!" He reached for her but the blade of the Shinken crossed the gulf and her shielding form prevented him from getting a clean shot.

Fuuma smiled with reptilian coldness as he peeped over the frame of his shades and tsked. "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's woman. Didn't you see the 'my property' sign?" He drew back the hair that fell over Arashi's shoulders and tilted her head to the side, revealing the lovebite he had given her earlier. His lips closed around the wounded skin in a sucking action.

"Arashi?" Doubt clouded Sorata's features as he stared at the woman he loved with every inch of his tormented soul. Unshed tears collected in the catchment behind her saucer eyes, he could see them just beyond the thick lashes. The painful realization dawned on him and his reluctance to accept it was felt by Fuuma's twisted presence.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," the attractive akuma explained. "The moment I ran you through I was going to release her and introduce you to my dear *loving* spy. You'll forgive her if she doesn't say anything. I know she wanted to warn you. That delicious mouth of hers is still very rebellious."

Anger blazed throughout Sorata. "Get your filthy hands off of her! It's okay, Arashi, I know it's not your fault."

"You don't understand," Fuuma smirked. "She came to me of her own free will to have her Wish granted. That's my purpose on this earth, don't hate me for it. You have a purpose yourself. I'm not sure if you'll be able to fulfil it; Wishes take priority."

*To die protecting Arashi, that's my Wish.* Sorata's ki responded causing raw electricity to surge through his veins. *I don't care what she's done or what he says she's done, I love her.*

"At least that makes one of us." Fuuma responded to the inner statement aloud. He unwound himself from the bishouja and stepped forward to meet the male Dragon of Heaven as he raised his cube-shaped kekkai.

Trapped within her own innocent sin all Arashi could do was watch as the evil genie worked his dark magic.

* * *
Cold red blood spilled from the savage crevice in Sorata's upper body where the dusky silver metal of the sword impaled him against a tree. There were no witnesses; twilight enveloped the barbaric execution scene. From a lolled head the Kouya priest's eyes stared vacantly at the beautiful window of his love as Fuuma's sexual perversion triumphed yet again.

Arashi was pushed up against the wall of a public bathroom, the tear-streaked side of her face pressed into the dead surface. Her trembling hands clawed at the bamboo as he plunged his rigid member into the space nothing was ever meant to enter. The pain was almost unbearable but she had forced her mind elsewhere. All she could feel was her own thin blood, mixed with his cooled cum, as it trickled down the inside of her naked thigh, following the gentle curve of her leg to meet the discarded undergarment at her ankles.

He buried his enlarged body deep within her and lost himself in her warm tightness, moaning pleasurably into the base of her neck as the puckered anal skin contracted involuntarily around him.

Without dislodging himself he whispered against her earlobe, "Tell them I killed him and raped you. It's the truth, no one can dispute that. I know Kamui will believe you. It'll make him angry and he'll come for me. Don't cry, amai Arashi, this has to happen so that I can win and always be with you."

Gorey blood-streaked hands left Arashi's hips and carefully wiped the salty rivulets from her cheeks. Fresh sobs racked her upon hearing the vile tenderness in that voice, to know Fuuma was the only one who could give her what she wanted. He did for the most part, tapping into her lonliness and insecurity, curing it with a kind of false love that was so real she began to believe in it. But the good side of his bad persona was fleeting and her Dr Jekyll, more often than not, had the misfortune of encountering his Mr Hyde.

The debaunchee pulled out of her and nonchalantly deposited himself back inside the stained pair of jeans. His assaulted victim's knees gave way beneath her and she dropped to the ground, the crinkled school skirt hiding her crime and punishment. She slumped forward and continued her mournful wail which momentarily increased in pitch as she heard the sickening tearing noise as Fuuma extracted the Shinken from the skewered piece of meat. Arashi forced her red-rimmed eyes to meet the bodily thud. Just beyond Sorata's brokenness Fuuma meandered up the lamp-lit path, swinging the Shinken in the most blasé fashion.

*I don't love you, /Kamui/. I love what you can do for me.*

OWARI

--
Ara-chan's notes: This fic came out *a lot* darker from what I originally planned but I'm pleased with the final result because I managed to capture Fuuma's perverseness very well ^^ Actually I wanted to involve Nataku and have it become jealous of Arashi's relationship with its "father" so that it eventually murders her, but I hate writing long fics and this is long enough. If you're wondering why Sorata couldn't grant Arashi's Wish, I believe that losing her mother made her long for a specific kind of love, her father's perhaps? Since Fuuma has a tendency to look like everyone i.e. Kusanagi, Sei-chan and Masaki I figured he could resemble Arashi's father if her Wish to be loved by him was strong enough. I know that doesn't explain their sexual "relationship" but Fuuma being Fuuma that's probably the price he exacts. In the end they're both using each other but the irony is Fuuma doesn't know it. Apologies to Sora-chan otaku but he was destined to die o.O; I'll try write a nice WAFF fic about them to make up for it ^_^ I got my inspiration for this fic from the Zero X artwork of Arashi ^^ I think those illustrations capture her sexuality extremely well. Fuuma's not the only one emanating raw sexuality, Arashi does too in a way. The "doll scene" was inspired by the Vampire Princess Miyu OVA where Ranka turns Kai into a doll and has control of him ^^ Ranka looks like Arashi with the hair ^_^ "Amai" means "sweet"; Japanese is quite specific so I'm not sure if it's used across the board as in English but I wrote it so that Fuuma could be referring to sweet as in sugary ^_^ "Akuma" means "devil". Anywayz send c/c to Ara-chan <Arashi@xguyz.gq.nu> -- Keeper of the Pikachu Pokémon and Mokona's Evil Twin ^_^