#hiro;

Hiro grinned as he looked out at the crowd mid set. They were eating up every growl, every scream and moment that the band was giving them, and it was keeping him alive. Between songs, sure, he would take a shot of whiskey, but it was more to refresh his throat than anything. His muscles glistened with sweat in the heat of the lights, the movements around the stage, and the high that kept his adrenaline at a steady high. Some crowd service revealed a face that followed his every move even more than the rest of the fans, and he smirked as he leaned out just enough for security not to stop him, and ran a hand along the gorgeous man's jawline.

Hiro was having a great performance, his blood pumping as he heard the crowd's response, but he had told a friend before the show that he needed a new plug. The quality of what he was getting lately just hasn't cutting it, wasn't keeping him going between shows, and so the feeling of a hand on his boot didn't startle him as a small card was slipped into it. For the rest of the show, the card stock pressed against his ankle and proved to add a grounding effect to help him get through the rest of the set.

Once the show was over and he had taken the time to thank the audience and meet a few people, he ducked backstage, disappearing into the room set aside for NBL and collapsed on the couch with a groan. He could usually make it a couple of hours after a show without crashing, but he was in a bad spot, and he needed to get a fix. He unzipped his boot and retrieved the card before fixing it back up and looked at the number and initials written across it. He quickly tapped it onto his screen and sent a message, closing his eyes as he waited for the response.

What have you been up to?

12. “I killed him.”

The words rang hollow between the vampires, and Hiro looked up at Fuji from where he was kneeling on the floor, the now bloodless body lying heavy on his lap. It was after one of Fuji's gigs, and Hiro had found himself drawn to a man who danced but kept his eyes locked on Fuji's every movement. In contrast to the day that Kuina had joined them, he had not received any reassurances from the DJ that he should back down from his aggressive and protective stance.

After the set, Fuji had disappeared backstage, a flick of his hand signalling that Hiro could do as he needed to when the man from the crowd began to follow the DJ. Before he knew what was going on, Hiro's eyes went black, his mind blanking as he moved swiftly. It really seemed like a blur what happened in those next moments; it wasn't his intention. He would have been content just to scare the man, maybe to even just try some unfamiliar blood despite the way his body craved Fuji's.

Hiroto sighed and looked at his hair, pouting a little in the mirror as he looked at what had been done to it. He had gotten it done by someone different than he was used to, and he wasn’t happy with it. He glared a bit at his manager for even having suggested he work with someone else and pulled out the card that he kept in his pocket. 

He nodded at those words as he listened to Fuji, gazing up at him and taking in the information. Of course, he could feel the truth in the words, and the support from his sire gave him further reassurance, even more than the knowledge of the violence being such a core part of their being. "Mm...that's fair. Fighting it can only make it worse, eventually, and my mind blanks a bit at times when it comes to you, Sir. I would do anything for you; this is true." He nodded, resting his hand on Fuji's hip.

He waited as the other called for the body to be disposed of, and then his eyes flickered. Part of him wanted to fight, to say he didn't need to be taught, but he knew that wasn't true. He needed Fuji in so many senses of the word, and he didn't plan on running from him. "It would seem that I need a lesson, Sir."