Author's Note: This originally started out as a one-shot ficlet, but turned into a series of ficlets from multiple points of view. They all take place during the Drama CDs; if you have not read them I highly recommend doing so, it filled in a lot of gaps for me and cleared up a lot of confusion that I had about how things ended up like they did in Gluhen. However, I tried to make what was going on clear so that anyone who has not read the CDs will know what is going on, and whose POV each chapter is coming from is also clarified within each chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Kiss me.

The words echoed in Ken's mind, pounding in time to his heart until the resounding words were all that occupied his mind. It was not the first time he had heard those words, not even the first time he had heard them from this person, and yet this time, they had the strength to occupy his every thought; even now, days later.

Kiss me.

It was not the words in and of themselves that caused the imprint on his mind. Not the words, but the way they had been spoken. There was demand and pleading in them at the same time, the same emotions reflected in those earnest blue eyes. Earnest, and yet. . . so full of pain. He had not understood why the pain was there, not then.

Ken. . .

The whispered name, so close to his lips, had been so intense, so full of desperation that Ken had stopped short in his movement towards Omi.

"Omi?" He had barely had time to say the name before Omi had closed the distance between them, pushing his lips insistently against his until Ken opened up to him, completely bewildered at his lover's behavior.

At the time, Ken had not been able to form thoughts enough to wonder what was prompting this behavior. Of course, he had noticed how Omi had been distancing himself, and had even delicately questioned him about it, but Omi had brushed it off, saying that nothing was wrong. However, in that moment when Omi had pressed his lips to his own, wrapping his arms around his neck, none of these things had crossed his mind.

He could not have thought about those things if he had wanted to. The persistent push of Omi's lips against his own, the warm silk of his tongue questing for entry, the firm grip of hands tangling in his hair, the press of Omi's lithe body against his own; these were the things that had filled his mind in that moment, even as his heart had screamed at him that something was not right.

If only he had listened to that screaming, instead of pushing aside and pretending that everything was fine.

Now Omi was gone. He should have known, really had known, even if he had not been able to admit it, several days ago, when Omi had gone to Tsukiyono Castle and had not returned for two days. Even then, he had only stayed long enough to gain some information before jumping to the defense of his grandfather and running back to the castle. Ken had listened to the screech of wheels on pavement as Omi drove away, and had known in that moment that he had lost him.

Now they, all of Weiss, stood here, as Omi announced that Saijou was not a target in this mission. The old man was obviously guilty, and yet Omi protected him. . . protected someone who he knew – he had to know – had been involved in the deaths of innocent people.

Perhaps Omi really was blind to it all. Perhaps he honestly wanted to believe that his grandfather, the last living member of his blood family, was innocent. Yet somehow, it was still a betrayal to Weiss, and it was clear on all their faces.

In the past, Ken had thought that he would do anything, endure anything, to give Omi the chance to have a life beyond Weiss, but as he stood here now, it was all he could do to not yell, scream, cry out against what was happening. Had it happened any other way, Ken could have lived contentedly even without his lover, knowing that he was happy, leading a normal life somewhere. However, what was happening now was not going to lead Omi to a more normal life. Ken had the wrenching feeling deep in his gut that what Omi was doing would only cause him more heartache. . . and yet he could not bring himself to stop the process, could not make himself step in when Omi was at least trying to change his life. Who was he to try to stop him?

Once again, his heart screamed and raged that something was not right. And once again, he pushed that feeling to the side, and tried to move on, without Omi, even as his mind felt as if it were folding in on itself, those two words echoing in his memory endlessly. . .

Kiss me. . .