Alternative [ Novel!Kazuo x Movie!Kazuo ]

"I haven't seen a cat in... at least a week," complained the wild-haired youth. His volume was almost always quiet no matter his apparent agitation; it might make him come off as shy, if not for his brazen demeanor. The almost feral look in his eyes quickly shook notions of timidity.

Kazuo and his novel-verse counterpart had spent the evening hunting the streets and alleyways for a stray... anything, at this point. The well-dressed Kiriyama - wearing black slacks and a dress shirt even outside of school, where the other Kiriyama wore jeans and a T-shirt - was interested in watching his movie-verse counterpart kill as he used to before the Program. Said counterpart agreed, though not without some hesitation, but it was beginning to look like it wouldn't happen anyways. Especially since returning from the Program, Kazuo had quickly depleted the population of pets and stray animals alike in the neighborhood. He had started to resort to bugs, and was considering getting a trap for squirrels and other small, wild creatures that normally escaped him...
"You may need to invest in another form of pleasure." Replied his sleek-haired companion. Often times he sounded not unlike a computer reciting its pre-programmed answer.
"There isn't one."
"I believe there is." His eternally empty gaze flickered to his movie-verse counterpart. "... But given your state of mind, it could take some getting used to."
Kazuo scowled somewhat, stopping then to face his companion. "What could possibly come close to killing?"

Novel-verse Kiriyama stopped too. "I think you know what I mean." But of course, his face nor tone gave any sign of what he might have meant.
"I don't," snapped the other Kiriyama. "Anything that's not bloody or violent is either boring or disgusting..." He muttered bitterly.
"... It's worth thinking about."
"I don't know what you mean," Kazuo emphasized with growing impatience, glowering at his counterpart.

The other boy seemed to study him for a moment, possibly gauging how sincere he was, before answering flatly. "Sex."

Fury slowly billowed into Kazuo's features. "... What the fuck." There was no question in his tone. His lanky frame appeared to bristle angrily.
His counterpart continued with undisturbed calm. "Due to your... popularity, it would be quite easy for you."
"You want me to end up like Souma?"
"You are like Souma, in some sense."
A pause. "... Yeah, except I'm not in denial. But why would one-...." Another pause, as the youth seemed to reconsider his wording. "... bad habit be any better than the other?"
"Because eventually, you will have nothing left to kill." The words carried a weight all their own despite their speaker's monotone. "But there will always be people willing-"
"That's disgusting," Kazuo cut him off. "You want to give Souma therapy, but you want me to turn into Souma? You don't make any fucking sense."

The calmer of the pair gazed blankly at his counterpart, seemingly contemplating him or his words in some way. "What if I stop you from fulfilling that need?"
Confusion and a kind of wary distrust blended into the frustration on Kazuo's face, like a dog just beginning to suspect it was at the veterinarian's. ".... What do you mean, stop me?"
Novel-verse Kiriyama maintained eye contact coolly. "From killing. Our class, or anyone."
Kazuo continued to regard his counterpart with some amount of caution. "... Why would you stop me? Why would it matter to you?"
"It doesn't," the other Kiriyama replied. "It's just the right thing to do."
Dark eyes narrowed. "Why? Why does it matter? They're all dead already. If you wanted to save lives, you had your opportunity in the Program, but you killed most of those kids just as I did."
"I wasn't sure what the right option was, so I flipped a coin. This is beside the point, Mr. Kiriyama."
"What is the point?" Kazuo returned venomously. "You'd rather I be obsessed with sex than killing, despite that Souma has psychotic breakdowns and I don't."

Novel-verse Kiriyama stared at his counterpart. His eyes were always so hollow it was impossible to tell what he might have been thinking; it was impossible to tell if he was even thinking at all, though that was doubtlessly the case. Enough time passed that the wild-haired Kiriyama began to feel uncomfortable under his counterpart's empty, unrelenting gaze; a rare occasion, considering he was experienced in being stared at.

"Killing and sex both appear to be formidable vices." Began novel-verse Kiriyama. "As they are nearly opposites, you are completely accustomed to one and completely unaccustomed to the other. That's why you are so opposed to the latter. But I think if you at least gave it a try, you might find it's not so bad, and that would be the first step to pulling away from your current... bad habit," he explained, careful to use the other boy's wording in reference to what was clearly an addiction.

Kazuo was still scowling, and looked about ready to argue further when his counterpart abruptly shoved him against the alleyway wall by his arms - and pushed his lips against his own with just as much suddenness and force.

Tension rippled through the youth's lanky frame in pursuit of a chill that slithered down the entire length of his form. He seemed to bristle, pressing up back against the brick wall behind him as if he meant to crab-crawl up it away from the other Kiriyama. His brow furrowed deeply as a troubled look swept over his face, a conflicted blend of furious and horrified; but his counterpart was stronger than him, so even as he moved to more seriously fight his way free, novel-verse Kiriyama kept him pinned, and kept their lips locked together. The sleek-haired boy's lips had initially been cool, but were very steadily warming at the contact.

Movie-verse Kiriyama struggled to at least rip out of the kiss, throwing his head this way and that, but his counterpart kept up perfectly so that their lips never fully parted. The well-dressed young man began delving further into the kiss, still insistently but also more naturally, not just pressing his lips into the other's - which remained tightly sealed and still - but maneuvering them with purpose. He tested parting them at varying widths so that they slowly felt along his counterpart's sensually, as if to feel for every curve and crevice. All the while, his expression went eerily unchanged, unaffected - even his hollow eyes remained mostly open, studying his counterpart's face, which, besides not being empty of emotion, was quite different from his own. Movie-verse Kiriyama was more tanned with a warmer complexion, with a less long and somewhat more rounded face. His nose was not as pointed, his features just slightly less feminine, it could be said.

The wild-haired Kazuo's efforts to break free were gradually waning. His chest was so full of hatred and panic, perhaps amongst other things, it felt like it was going to crush in on his lungs and suffocate him. His lids were growing heavier like he didn't have the strength to keep them open after his struggling... and when his novel-verse counterpart suddenly pressed their bodies closer, his eyes shut hard as if he couldn't bear to watch anymore. Worst of all, he felt a heat building in his loins that was not such an alien sensation to him - only a long-forgotten one.

Progressively, he found his lips relaxing, so they were more easily molded into his counterpart's. By now he had fallen about still besides continuing to press back against the wall like it was his only possible escape route, but whatever distance he managed to put between his body and his counterpart's, novel-verse Kiriyama quickly closed, pressing him into the wall purposefully. The sleek-haired youth let his hands drift down from the other boy's arms. A soft, startled sound escaped movie-verse Kiriyama when he felt his counterpart's hands feel tentatively along his waist, and then another more distinctly of protest when the hands crept under his shirt to meet his skin and trail along where his jeans began. One hand suddenly gripped the edge of his pants, threatening to intrude there, but instead the other hand began slinking over the front of his jeans... carefully searching there until it found the distinctly hard patch where the fabric had grown tight.

Kazuo's breath hitched, and the both of them froze. They were motionless long enough that, although still frozen in a kiss, movie-verse Kiriyama's dark eyes dared to lift open to meet his counterpart's gaze. The former's eyes were fierce but bitter and defeated, while the latter's were as void as ever.

Slowly, hesitantly, novel-verse Kiriyama detached from the kiss and pulled his face away from his counterpart's. The other Kiriyama stared on as if half-asleep at first - before suddenly whipping a punch into the sleek-haired youth's pale cheek as fast as a lightning strike. Judging by the sound, it hit almost as hard, too. Novel-verse Kiriyama's head jerked accordingly but he did not stumble, hands withdrawing from the other boy's waist to tentatively feel at where he had been hit. He very well may have been able to avoid it if he had wanted, or even turn the tables on his counterpart. But he didn't. And still, he did not retaliate or move to defend himself even as his wild-haired counterpart grabbed him by the collar to violently flip their positions, pinning novel-verse Kiriyama hard against the wall in a clearly threatening gesture. His face was in turmoil again, furious but this time mixed with a kind of fear, like a child determined to face the bully on the playground or the monster under the bed. "Don't fucking touch me." For the conflict in his face, his eyes were hard and his gaze brutally intense. But, of course, his counterpart appeared completely indifferent, meeting his arresting glare with utter calm.

Another moment of one-sided vehement hostility, and movie-verse Kiriyama pulled away, turning to move briskly down the alleyway.
".... I think it's an alternative to consider," his sleek-haired counterpart finally replied.