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The time is 2 am.
The sniper prepares his choice weapon carefully, the ammo loaded with extreme detail. He checks the parts, making sure they are clean and functioning correctly. Sharpshooter as he is, he grins. This will be easy.
Confident that he is ready, the expert marksman chooses his route under the cover of darkness. His footsteps are light and his movements as silent as a zephyr in the blackest midnight. His motion is that of a cougar, stalking his prey silently, fluidly.
Now the sniper’s path turns jagged and steep but it does not deter him, for his mind is set and the prey is ready. The sweet scent of the sleeping prey drifts over the sniper like the smell of a blossoming rose to a hungry butterfly. His nostrils flare as the scent floods his lungs. His grin broadens. He is close.
The fragile prey is protected by a simple barrier, a thin shaft of mellow light flickering through the entrance, which was carelessly left unsealed without knowledge of the impending attack. The penetration will be child’s play for the elegant hunter. He moves in.
Creeping low on his hands and knees, the assassin cradles his weapon carefully. Here, all his training and careful preparation will pay off. The taste of victory is sweet over his lips, curling slightly with satisfaction, for the time for attack is upon him…
He crouches to leap. The prey rests silently…
The predator’s muscles tense. With sharp swiftness, he springs forward with unleashed power. His battle cry pierces the night air as a gasp is drawn in quickly from below. Predator’s greedy amusement deepens with the frantic disarray of the prey while the sadistic hunger in his being is fed.
~***~
“Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!” The pink-haired man clothed in a very fuzzy pink suit and war paint leaps up from the side of an elegantly decorated bed in a large room where a single red candle is lit which shoots a dancing glow across the face of a deathly-terrified, wavy-blonde-haired sleeping beauty of a man. He shuffles his silky scarlet bed sheets frantically around his delicate frame, his eyes dilated and his face distorted with fear. The drummer screams in fright. He was awakened by this leaping pink thing! “Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiieeeeeee!!!!!” His body contorts with the sudden cold connecting with his warm flesh unveiled from the simple cover of his cozy sheets. The pink beast unloads his ammo upon him, the cold blasts unrelenting as they penetrate through his very being. His vision blurs as his gasping breaths drive him to a state of dizziness. A watergun, now empty, clatters uselessly to the floor while the fuzzy pink thing fwumps down on the blonde man’s stomach, convulsing with frantic laughter. It collapses onto his chest, its heaving breath beginning to steady. The giddy giggles become familiar to the blonde and as realization fills him, his pale cheeks flush and his muscles loosen, fingers releasing from their groping fists on his sheets. A look of annoyance pierces through the pianist’s frightened face. hide arches his back forward to look at Yoshiki through a feline stance, close so that one could feel the other’s hot breath on his cheek. His war-painted face suddenly turns serious. “Rawr.” The pink thingy hide chokes with new delight and rolls off the bed with the help of an annoyed Yoshiki’s shove and an ungraceful “thunk” on a thin lacy rug placed neatly on the floor. The laughter continues. “hide!!!” Yoshiki, now fully annoyed and completely awake, bolts upright in his bed and shoots flames from his eyes at the twitching pink floofy thing. His glare wanders only for a second to a digital clock reading 2:17 am. He immediately looks back. “hide. It’s 2:17 in the morning. What the fuck could you be doing in a fuzzy pink suit, war paint and a watergun filled with ice water at 2:17 am???” He pauses a moment to gather his thoughts. The candlelight casts an eerie shadow over his face, the blonde’s eyes shrouded while his smooth cheekbones are exaggerated and sharp in the contrasting light. hide’s childish giggling ceases for a moment but something about the awkward silence and the silent rage on Yoshiki’s face causes him to snort loudly and begin laughing again. This was the reaction he had expected from the uptight perfectionist and the comedy of his expression brought a new depth to his fun. Yoshiki’s eyes widen as the flames within them devour more fuel. “…and hide, what does any of what you did apply to me?? ... You know I can barely sleep as it is… and what you do in the middle of the night to amuse yourself is your business.” hide finally is able to subdue his giggles. He sits up on the rug and frowns. “Anou… Yo-chan…” A mock pout slips over his mouth. “I woke up and I couldn’t go back to sleep so I wanted to ask you to get me some ice water but you were asleep!” hide blinks. Yoshiki fights to contain his rage. He points to the water pistol. “hide. You filled that watergun with ice water.” The calmness in his voice is fake. This is the point at which Yoshiki will either break everything in his vicinity or simply explode. “Sou ka… anou… I had to wake you up to ask you to get me some ice water.” A little halo appears above hide’s pink head. “But you used ice water to wake me up!” Yoshiki fumes. “Exactly!” Looking as if he had just made a major point, hide snaps his fingers and leans forward, eyes glowing. “I woke you up with ice water so I could ask you if you could get me some ice water so I could fill my watergun so I could wake you up with ice water so I could ask you to get me some ice water so I could fill my watergun!!” He smiles smugly. Yoshiki stares blankly. hide returns the stare. A fly circles hide’s pinkness. hide swats at the fly. The dripping heap of crumbled linens begins to tremble as Yoshiki’s rage threatens eruption. His glaring face twists with anger and his delicate hand grasps a nearby pillow and thrusts it roughly at the pink thing. He shoves off his sopping cold sheets and stands stiffly at the side of his bed, clad only in his soaked boxers. hide raises his arms over his head in mock fear. “Oi, Yo-chan! Aren’t you over reacting a little?” He closes one eye. “I mean, you could hurt someone throwing a pillow like that!” He grins, adding, “you dun want to get hurt, right?” Yoshiki’s expression forms into puzzlement. He shivers as ice-chilled water slowly slides off his skin. “hide. You’re. On. Crack.” Yoshiki’s slender feet land uncharacteristically heavily as he stomps out of the room. A wet glaze follows him on the wooden floor. “But, Yo-chan!” hide leans back from his seat on the lacy black rug to look up at Yoshiki, dripping in the doorway, his view upside-down. “What?!” Yoshiki snaps, turning his head to reveal yet another glare through wet waves of hair. hide sprawls out on his back. “That’s Pata’s line.” A quick smirk traces Yoshiki’s thin mouth. “He was talking about a different ‘crack’.” His tongue flits out to wet his parched lips. A gleam in the musician’s eyes shines out before the shivering, fragile-bodied man turns and latches the door behind him. hide sits up and snickers. “Hmmm. I’m really starting to rub off on him.” His amber eyes narrow as he shuffles quickly to lean silently along the doorframe. The attack is over and the victory is won to the assassin as his tongue glides slowly over his lips, bathing them in satisfaction as they curve slyly upwards. His fingers slide slowly around the silver sphere that will permit the mighty hunter’s exit. With a short twist and a tiny “click,” the obstacle begins to reveal his route. Then, it stops moving. Marksman’s eyes trace the edge of the barrier to reveal the predator, who looks down fiercely at his prey. hide gasps and stumbles backward slightly. The tables have turned! “You think that you’re going to break into my room, soak everything in ice water and then just walk out?” hide regains his composure. “Yes.” However, this reply confirms that his brain is still empty. He blinks at Yoshiki with nothing better to say. Yoshiki wonders if all that pink hair dye atop hide’s head sunk into his brain and melded it into cotton candy… “hide-chan,” Yoshiki quirks a smirk, “you. Can make my bed for me.” He shoves a pile of silky white sheets onto hide, who collapses to the floor. “Have fun.” Yoshiki turns back to the bathroom to finish sopping up the watergun ammo from his goose-bump-flecked skin. The sunken pile of sheets mumbles incoherently on the floor until hide throws them off him and stands up. He sulks to the bed and proceeds to remove Yoshiki’s sodden, delicate red sheets from the otherwise dry and elegant bed.

Chapter 2...