Shiro lay sprawled out on his bed, one arm dangling over the edge and the other thrown across to hit Kuroh in the face. Not that the other man noticed, he had collapsed asleep on the bed as soon as the trio arrived back at the school dorm after their run in with the Blue King. He was bloody and bruised, with a split lip and more than just wounded pride to send him off into a restless sleep.

He was next joined by a little pink kitten, now curled up between the two men, purring softly. Neko had used up all of her energy helping save Kuroh's life and try to help Shiro regain some of his memories. Though she had not been able to help get them all back, the group now had some more clues to investigate. Her efforts left Shiro emotionally exhausted. He was the last to join the sleeping pair on the bed. He stood on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, thinking over what had happened that evening.

"Who am I?" he whispered to himself. "I feel more confused than ever. I thought if I got some memories back..." He sighed, "Maybe I should have listened to Kuroh. Calmed down and thought about it before we tried to get my memories back. It's too late now, everything has changed." He glanced back at his companions inside. "He could kill me at any moment. I look more guilty that ever, he has enough proof now that I could be the evil king. If he left, I don't know what I'd do..." With one last look up to the stars Shiro thought of that face again. The one that had been taunting him for weeks. Silver hair tickled his face and a ghostly laugh chimmed in his ears before he fell backwards out of the sky. "Who are you?" he thought, before retreating indoors to join his friends.

Faces were rushing though Yata's mind. Mikoto locked up in prison, being guarded by the Blue King. Kusanagi calling to him from behind his bar, begging him to calm down, don't do something stupid. Totsuka lying on the roof of the building, his shirt drenched in blood, telling him "It'll all work out" while he begged him not to fall asleep.

Isana Yashiro. The look on the smug bastard's face as he pulled the trigger. The innocent look on his face when he was trapped in the alley, surrounded, before being rescued by the Black Dog. Tonight was the night. No more fucking around, he thought as he grabbed his skateboard and headed to the supply closet. Time for revenge once and for all.

Kuroh jerked awake, sitting bolt upright and glancing around the room. His eyes fell on the figure next to him on the bed, spread out like a starfish. "Oh," he thought, "It was just Shiro." He rubbed his cheek where he had been smacked by the white haired boy. Surprisingly neither Shiro nor Neko had been woken by his outburst, both breathing deeply and evenly. Kuroh rubbed his eyes before getting up to head to the bathroom. He splashed ice cold water on his face, hissing when it stung his split lip.

Leaning against the cold tiles of the wall he wondered what he was going to do. Shiro had some of his memories back, proving that he wasn't actually Shiro and that he didn't have an alibi for the night of Totsuka's murder. Surely that was proof enough that the boy was guilty. Surely this was enough evidence for Kuroh to fufill his duty and slay the evil king. Then why was he so apprehensive about killing him?

He had tried to tell Shiro that his master had told him he had to be absolutely certain before killing him, but that was just an excuse. He didn't have the heart to kill the suspect. He had grown fond of him. Began to like him. These feelings were all too new for Kuroh, like a forgein country Master Ichigen had forgotten to teach him about. It didn't help that Shiro seemed to be just as confused as him about everything. The usually calm and composed Kuroh was now an emotional wreck. He pulled himself from his thoughts and reluctantly headed back to the bedroom, hoping that he would find peace in his dreams.

Having finally made it to the dorms Yata hopped off of his skateboard and looked up at the building. Second floor at the front. All the lights were off but the balcony door was ajar. Tying the can around his waist with his hoodie, he skillfully began to scale up the side of the building. Knowing that trained ears were just on the other side of the glass door he landed silently on the balcony. One quick look in the window revealed that all three were fast asleep, the cat curled up at the bottom of the bed and the other two impossibly tangled. Yata's vision went red as he saw the white haired boy, alive and well while Mr. Totsuka was rotting in the ground. He forced his fists to stop shaking. This job required a steady hand. With a flick of the wrist the can was open. He began to pour it's contents along the floor, trying to make as little noise as possible.

When the tiles were nicely soaked he pried open the door, locking it behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to confirm that the trio were still asleep before splashing the liquid over every wooden surface in the house - the kitchen counters, the bathroom cabinets, the dining table. Making sure to put a nice circle around the bed, not wanting to wake the three up, Yata retreated to the front door of the appartment. He glared at the murderer as he slept peacefully, arms wrapped around the Black Dog's neck, not a care in the world.

He reached into his pocket to take out the lighter Totsuka gave him for his 19th birthday. He ran his thumb over the gold engraving "Powers are not meant for destruction." With a bitter chuckle he flicked the top and dropped it to the ground before running through the front door.

"Sorry Totsuka", he thought to himself. "Sometimes it can't be helped."

Behind his eyelids Shiro could only see red. Red everywhere. The blood of Totsuka flowing like a river, mixing with the deeper crimson seeping out of a wound in the middle of his own chest. Master Ichigen's sword protruded out from his torso, white hot pain coursed through his body as the life was being sucked out of him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, looking into the dead eyes that just stared back at him.

Looking up his amber eyes were met with silver. Dark hair tickled his face while the older man leaned over him. "Shiro I'm sorry. I had to, I had no choice," he whispered. Behind him the world exploded into colours of red and orange. His eyes began to flutter as Kuroh's voice yelled at him. "Shiro! Shiro! Goddamnit Wake up!"

His cheek stung from where Kuroh hit him. He shot up in the bed, eyes darting around the room. Everything was engulfed by a tongue of fire. The walls were licked by orange flame and amber sparks flew through the air from the burning wood. Kuroh's face quickly blocked his view of his burning home. "Shiro, we have to get out of here." His voice was eerily calm but his eyes told Shiro that he was terrified.

Neko, hissing as the sparks singed her fur, jumped onto Shiro's back, trying to hide under his mane of white hair. Glancing around the room Kuroh tried to find a pathway to get out of the fire. He blindly grasped at Shiro's hand and dragged him across the bed and jumping through a small opening in the flames. The pair rolled to the floor, staying low as they headed for the main door.

Shiro's vision was blurred by the tears forming in his eyes. Smoke filled his lungs as he gasped for air, only to lose it all again when coughing. The light fixture on the ceiling burned brightly before falling to the ground, landing on Shiro's back. He screamed out in agony, causing his companion to call out his name. The flaming light was swiftly removed by one of Kuroh's aura's. The blue hand shot out without a moment's hesitation and lifted it from Shiro's back. He then ripped off the boy's jacket that was now alive with fire. He scooped him up off of the ground and ran towards the door before smashing it with his aura.

The two collapsed in the hallway as it began to fill with smoke. Bent over, they heaved oxygen into their lungs before firey fingers crept through the open door of the apartment. Neko, now in human form, came running from the room. Kuroh shoved them both in the direction of the stairs. "Run," he shouted to them. "Go get help. I'll get everyone out." "No!" Shiro protested. "We have to help, you'll get trapped!"

Neko grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the emergancy exit. "Shiro! Let's go!" Kuroh nodded his head. "I will be fine. Go." The two stared eachother down, all the while Neko mewing in the background. With one final look the two ran off down the hall, leaving Kuroh standing alone in the hallway as it rapidly began to catch fire.

"Where is he? He should be out by now! Everyone else is coming out! Where is he?" Shiro was pacing across the front of the dorm building. They had called the fire brigade and were on their way. One by one his flatmates began to run out of the building, each in various forms of undress. Everyone had a look of shock on their faces - searching for friends in the crowd, looking to make sure that those they cared about had gotten out unharmed. Everyone was accounted for. Except Kuroh.

"What the hell is he doing," Shiro thought to himself. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked up at the burning building. Kuroh's face flashed behind his eyelids. Of their first meeting. When he took on the Red Clan for him. The way he had held him to his chest before whisking him off his feet to the rooftops of the city. The look of pure contentment on his face as he prepared dinner for he and Neko. His resolve crumbling as Shiro protected Neko from Master Ichigen's sword. The slight blush face when they accidentally caught hands. Finally, the moment they shared in the stadium. Kuroh promising him that he did not intend on letting the final curtain fall on them. If only those lights had not interrupted him, Shiro could have finally confessed to Kuroh how he felt about him. It was the perfect moment. Now would he ever get the chance to tell him the truth?

Neko screeched beside Shiro, pulling him from his daydream. The crowd gathered outside the dorm gasped as the roof toppled over, sending amber sparks flying in all directions. Shiro screamed until his throat burned, running towards the main door of the building. "Shiro! No!" Neko yelled behind him, trying to beckon him back. Blue lights brighten up the night sky and a siren rings in Shiro's ears before he is stopped dead in his tracks by the second floor balcony errupting like a volcano. Flaming wood and glass rained down around the crowd.

The second floor apartment is non-existent.

Kuroh sprinted from room to room, banging on all of the doors and screaming at people to wake up. The boys emerged wearing only their pyjamas, rubbing their eyes and blinking before keeling over coughing due to the smoke. Kuroh ran into one of the empty rooms, grabbed a wet cloth and wrapped it around his face. The smoke was beginning to make his vision burry so he knew he had to work fast. What would Master Ichigen do, he thought to himself.

The fire was spreading fast, licking his heels as he made his way towards the stairwell. His lungs contracted as he crawled up the stairs, leaning against the wall while trying to catch his breath. He finally made it to the top floor, where most people had already heard the commotion downstairs and had used the emergency ladders at their windows so escape. Kuroh went to follow when all of a suddenly the ground beneath him collapsed.

A million thoughts flashed through his mind. Master Ichigen, raising him from infancy to training him to be a warrior. Him telling Kuroh that it was his job to protect. That video of Totsuka's murder, the look on the murderer's face that made his blood boil. Neko and her indecency. And Shiro. The one man he trusted the most but with very little reason. What he would give to see him one last time, to tell him everything he had been thinking over the past few weeks. Every fibre of his being longed to be honest with him, his dying wish. As he fell to his death, Kuroh's only thought was, "At least I was able to save the man I love."

Shiro stood frozen to the spot, his amber eyes reflecting the orange glow of the dorm. His body went numb as the fire brigade finally pulled up beside the dorm. People were being lead away, barriers put up at a safe distance incase of another explosion. One officer tugged at Shiro's arm and told him that the area "was not safe for civilians". Neko mewed in Shiro's ear, trying to speak to him in a soothing voice. "Shiro, please. There's nothing we can do." His pulse started racing as reality struck him. He could hear his heartbeat in his chest as be began to struggle to breathe. "No no no no no. This can't be happening. This isn't real," he whispered to himself. He struggled against their grasp, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He impatiently brushed them away, looking at the ground as the crowd began to gasp.

A blue hand shot out from inside the burning building. Growing rapidly, it stretched to the adjacent dorm building and a black figure shot through the sky. It landed softly on the ground in a crouching position. Shiro tore his arm from the officer's grasp and sprinted towards the figure. As he approached he could see ebony covering his face. Shiro fell on his knees next to the man, hands pulling his head back to examine his face. He carefully removed the soot-covered cloth from around his nose and mouth before pushing his hair from his face to check for any damage. Satisfied that he was not missing any eyes, Shiro pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Kuroh! You bastard! You had me so worried. Don't you eve-"

He was broken off by a hand covering his mouth. "Let me speak," he whispered in a husky voice. Shiro looked at him with mild confusion. "Now seems as good a time as any to be honest with you. The past few weeks with you have been the most frustrating yet enjoyable of my life. You have made me question myself, question who I am and what I am to do. You made me uncertain of what is right and wrong. You have made me confused, so damn confused about everything. Except one thing. My feelings for you. Shiro, you bastard, I love you. I shouldn't but I do. I love you."

Shiro's eyes widened in shock and his mouth fell open as Kuroh removed his hand. He did not have much time to react before the hand was replaced by a pair of lips. Kuroh's arms wrapped around the younger man's waist, pulling him onto his lap. He responded by snaking his arms around the raven's neck, tangling his fingers in his nest of hair. Kuroh could feel the other man's heartbeat through his chest, his own soaring with joy of fufilling his dying wish. Shiro hissed as nails scrapped along his back, now burned from the light fixture. The two pulled apart, still holding on to one another. Leaning against Kuroh's forehead, he whispered, "I love you, too" before leaning in for another kiss.

Nothing existed outside of this little bubble. Not the firemen extinguishing the dying flames, not Neko running over to the pair and mewing in their ears. Not even the young skater lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting, biding his time.