A/n: Okay since my laptop died, I've got to do this the hard way - via mobile. But here it is, the sequel to "Prisonic Requiem." Hope you enjoy! That movie, "Split", was also a great motivator! :D

: 1 :

The side of the island Ichiji Vinsmoke had chosen for his estate was a quiet area, taking the brunt of the morning sun's effects before the rest of the island could. Overlooking a channel of rushing water, the river emptied out into the reach of the ocean and provided a small profit of commercial fishing for those that chose the area to use. It was isolated in the effect that to get there, it took some traveling uphill, but the town was in view from the house's location. A small cropping of trees assured privacy, but was maintained by a few local gardeners that kept the estate beautifully kept.

A three story building that sat in the midst of animmaculate lawn space, the house boasted of small rooms but a wide first floor setting. Furniture was kept to a minimum, with expensive rugs that were imported from other islands. The walls held somber landscape paintings and skies from around the world, with dark colors that kept a minimalist attitude. A grandfather ticked and chimed at appropriate times, and since it was located closer to the town, it also provided electricity. A phone sat near the study, surrounded by books, a large globe of the world. A pair of dogs, Great Danes named Duval and Tony, roamed freely, allowed in and out of the house via doggie door located in the living room.

The single stairway that allowed access to all three floors was wide and grand, with thick posts and a railing that gleamed with a dark oil stain. There were two maids that visited only during the daytime, and a butler that lived on the second floor. While it retained nothing of the original Vinsmoke mansion, it was clearly Ichiji's. The immaculate setting didn't allow for much comfort, but it was a functional one.

Two months after Wickem Sanatorium was burned to the ground by one of its mad patients, Ichiji's decision to house his troubled younger brother, Sanji, had already proven difficult. Ichiji and his brothers had found it difficult to bond with him, as his disorder, caused by unknown years of abuse only discovered through Doctor Smoker's notes that he'd kept on Sanji, kept all of them at arm's length. Throughout their life, Sanji had beenproblematic – an overly anxious, argumentative and easily stressed person, his disorder with food and appearance in regards to some type of approval kept him distanced from his family. He spent too much time in jail as a result of his tempestuous moods, fighting verbally and physically at the switch of a hat, but did these things that he thought would make up for his lack of connection to the others.

Ichiji's decision to take him in, to somehow fix the rift caused by their father's abuse had been approved of by his brothers, who also wanted to contribute. They knew it would be a difficult process, as none of them had gotten along with Sanji, sure that he was only batshit-crazy; but after reading the file Dr Hina had managed to save before the destruction, all of them felt obligated to help in some way. While not directly naming the man that had abused their brother, Dr Smoker had pinpointed the cause of Sanji's diagnosis as resulting from acts of cruelty that only made sense because of remembered timelines and instances. It had been horrifying for the brothers to understand this because such things were unheard of for them.

As a result, their own relationship with their father was strained, but none of them could exactly speak their reasons why. To this day, Ichiji kept his distance from Judge, and made it possible for Judge to understand why he was not allowed at his estate. Because of the level of dangerousness in the exposure of what was known, Judge did respect Ichiji's decision, at his mercy to do so. While not admitting to it, his agreement to Ichiji's separation only made sense for Judge to keep his distance. Yet, at the same time, both of them worked amicably to continue building the Vinsmoke domain on their island.

It was a business decision to keep in contact, not a personal one.

Because of this understanding, Ichiji now had an inkling why their older sister, Reiju, married the first man that purposed and carted her away from the island without giving chance to a proper courtship. Whatever she herself had endured stayed with her, her only indication of such things occurring being that of her apathetic nature.

How human beings could prey on their own left Ichiji absolutely clueless. But it also motivated him that much more to attempt to fix what had happened. Being the eldest child, it was in him to take care of the work his father left for him, but he never imagined it would be this.

After the destruction of Wickem, because of the actions that had taken place, the controversy surrounding it had a police presence following Sanji after he'd settled in. When the murders started, he was a witness, but he could not provide full details. When the police stopped sending their officers upon the messy destruction of their operatives during overnight stays, when orderlies and doctors themselves were slaughtered messily, it was all blamed upon one Trafalgar Law, a prominent psychopath that had been kept there because of the lack of evidence supplied during his own jailing. Everyone had known it was him, but they could not prove his crimes. When the whispers started about malevolent spirits taking over the sanatorium, this was spoken about with such horror and disbelief that the event was disregarded. His body was found at the scene, which put the entire thing to rest, but the police department never recovered.

So they attached themselves to Sanji, but Sanji couldn't provide details.

Couldn't, or wouldn't, Ichiji had suspected. But Sanji's only tie to Trafalgar was that they were old childhood friends, and even then, Sanji had himself had no clue what motivated the psychopath into his destructive beginnings. What was known was only in the files Dr Hinaand the police department had, and it wasn't enough to explain what had happened the day the sanatorium burned down.

Sanji did not speak of the details, but Ichiji was aware that he remained bothered by it. He heard the nightmares his brother had, and noticed the sometimes faraway look on his face if he found himself reliving a moment, but because Sanji refused to give any of his vulnerabilities away, Ichiji didn't know what he had gone through to be placed into such a state. Why he was the only survivor bothered Ichiji – not that he wanted his brother to die, but why was he the only one?

He was not a natural survivor, given his destructive qualities. Physically, because of his disorder, he was very weak and he was mentally fragile, so why did the psychopath let him walk? Ichiji recalled that Sanji was not fully functional after he was pulled from the burning building by a pair of masoners Ichiji had run into after his retreat from the building, aware that he was under the effects of barbiturates – his father's damning habit that had attempted to keep Sanji 'docile' – but Sanji could not provide the details as to why Trafalgar taken so many with him to Hell.

The final report had mentioned that Sanji had only escaped because he was conveniently near a door on the first floor, and without all the pieces needed to figure out what exactly happened inside, many suspected that he was Law's accomplice. The shunning that happened after was expected; the tie that they were childhood friends had mounted to this. Whispers suggested that Sanji had helped Law kill everyone inside, with some given promise of his escape, because there was no possible way that this walking skeleton had the ability to escape someone as crafty and vicious as Trafalgar Law.

Sanji did not dispute any of this. He seemed dazed by his own escape, unable to put the pieces together, himself.

But, two months later, Ichiji thought all of that was behind them, now. They were moving on.

: :

One evening, as rain pattered down over the island in an expected spring shower, the quiet of the house easing over Ichiji's thoughts, he wasn't aware of the exact moment when he realized that there were eyes upon him.

Duval whined uneasily and stood up from the floor, slinking away from the dining room while Tony followed him with his massive head down. The dogs' unusual behavior caused Ichiji to look after them with a frown, wondering what it was that made them feel so discomforted. A pair of vocal animals, they tended to bum rush any stranger coming up to the estate and knocked down anyone that wasn't prepared for their affection. Duval had attached himself to Sanji with an unusual amount of attention when he'd first arrived, and while Sanji had no mind for animals, he seemed at ease when the dog was around. So when he left Sanji's side in that state, Ichiji naturally assumed that Sanji had sent him away. But he didn't hear his voice, nor any movement indicative of Sanji's rejection.

Being that only he and Sanji were there eating, it was only reasonable to look up and across the table at his brother. It was unsettling to meet those eyes that were staring back at him. The natural shadows of the living roomrendered Sanji's face differently - normally skeletal, with dull skin, thin, flaxen hair hanging flatly over one side of his face, he was looking at Ichiji with a somewhat calculating expression that was unlike him, thin lips pulled into a hint of a smirk.

The silence was suddenly unnaturally heavy. Ichiji couldn't explain the goosebumps that pimpled his skin.

"Is there something wrong with your food?" he questioned evenly, looking down at his own plate. Sanji had cooked, tonight. He had particular fits about food that made him feel better if he were the one in charge of it, but he often made dishes that were less than tasty; Ichiji let him do it because it seemed cooking gave Sanji some comfort.

"No," Sanji answered, but his voice seemed slightly different to Ichiji. There was something about it that seemed lower, something off that made him lift his eyes again. He watched his brother look down at his own plate, as if seeing it for the first time. He prodded at the vegetables with a fork, as if uncertain where to start. Not unusual behavior for him, but it was the way he held his eating utensil that made Ichiji hesitate. "There is nothing wrong with it."

"It could use a little more flavoring," Ichiji decided.

"Indeed." Sanji once again looked at him. The way his eyes coursed over Ichiji gave him the thought that he was being examined. It was not a good feeling. "I had an interesting thought, the other day, when you spoke about possibly bringing in a…specialist…to visit with me."

"Dr Hina was thoughtful enough to mail me a few recommendations based on your needs."

Sanji chuckled, but, again, there was something different about it that made Ichiji falter. "Dr Hina…whom does she recommend that could assist with my failures as a self-sustaining human being?"

Ichiji wasn't sure what it was that made him think this wasn't his brother. That thought was impossible to have. But it crept to the forefront of his mind because he couldn't recall Sanji conducting himself in such a composed manner when it came to his care. He was usually so impulsive with his expressions that left him winded, sullen, furious.

"A few names that I've yet to conduct personal research upon to send my approval," Ichiji answered, picking up his fork.

"Perhaps it's only a waste of time for your efforts," Sanji said, examining a piece of roast with a thoughtful eye. "Perhaps it's not a specialist that can help. But maybe a priest."

"I don't understand. A priest communicates expression of the Lord's teachings on how to further extend our life here on earth without fear of being sent below ground. Are you suggesting your time is limited?"

"Not mine," Sanji said, looking at him with that same, unsettling smile.

Ichiji wiped his mouth. "You've yet to explain this thought you had."

"Has it ever been considered that I am a lost cause?"

"We refuse to give up on you, even as it seems you've given up on yourself."

"Normally, one would think that trying to save a dying creature near its death throes to be considered 'food'. Or, perhaps, compost. As there is yet any sign of improvement on my…behavior, perhaps it is incapable of being fixed. Perhaps it only needs to be left unintended so that nature can take its course."

"We don't consider human lives as animals, nor do we think that it's incapable of 'not being fixed'. It can be fixed, because it was human caused."

"Just because a road can be smoothed over with dirt doesn't mean that all the cracks can be covered."

"Cracks can be filled."

"Perhaps with the addition of more dirt, but absolutely, it cannot be restored to its original form."

"This is only part of your diagnosis, Sanji. As you don't feel fully human, thanks to the subjection of abuse heaped upon you for a course of unknown years, you tend to forget that you are. You think you are less than that. This is something that can be fixed."

Sanji laughed. It was an unnerving sound. "Of course I am not a human! I haven't been treated as such, therefore, why consider myself one in the first place? Upon the first place when this abuse started, the thought of myself as a 'human being' was given no other thought other than I being only convenience and availability to another's perversion. As such, to think that such a concept could be restored in an effort to recognize myself as a human being is lost. Upon a change of mindset and conception, years after the first act, one would further think that because it took place, why should others continue to think, just because I walk on two legs and speak with one tongue, that I should be regarded as a human being and not an object to be used? Considering the lengths I've taken to further see myself as something other than human, others should consider the same. For their safety and continuity as, themselves, a human being."

Ichiji lowered his wine glass. "So you feel that once the abuse started, you are no longer a human being? That you should be continuously seen as what you were regarded as in that moment of time? It's not that you should be, because only one person deemed to think so. As that person is removed from your life, others don't think similarly."

"Oh?" Sanji then seemed to leer at him, leaning over his plate to do so. "You don't find me fetching?"

"That is a disgusting suggestion. I am your brother."

"Am I?" Sanji chuckled again, looking at his plate. "Sometimes, I don't feel that this is so, but it's not the specialist that can decide. It seems to be the devil inside of me that speaks for me."

"Are you in need of an exorcism?" Ichiji asked with a furrowed brow, absolutely puzzled by the quality of insanity Sanji was speaking of.

"But even religion doesn't seem to have the best of weapons available for my condition, as it has already proven that speaking to God does not help my disorder. Heonly seems to make it worse."

"I'm aware that you feel God has failed you, and perhaps He has. But He gave you strength in other places, in other forms. These are things you need to reconsider before you give yourself up because you are only tired of fighting. Others can help fight for you," Ichiji said firmly.

Sanji only seemed to find that amusing. He regarded Ichiji with his hands steepling together in front of him, elbows on the table. He seemed to regard the ceiling with a mock prayer form before lowering his forehead against his hands, stilling for several long seconds. Ichiji wasn't sure what had just transpired there between them, but he was left completely unsettled.

He wasn't sure what Sanji was asking for, what he was suggesting, but he made a note to include more church visits in his day to day schedule. Maybe it would help, considering how lost he was, sometimes.

Sanji's hands lowered to the table suddenly, and he exhaled heavily, picking up his fork and knife, studying his food with a critical eye. Then he paused, and looked at Ichiji, noticing the way he was being looked upon.

"What?" he snapped.

Surprised by the change of attitude, Ichiji wasn't sure how to answer.

Sanji looked down at Ichiji's plate, then his own before reddening significantly, voice tremoring slightly as he then snapped, "You don't like this? If you don't like it, don't eat it!"

That was his brother. The attitude, the assertion, the unhinged manner of attack before anything could be said. It made Ichiji wonder just who the hell he was talking to in the first place. His skin rippled once more, throat tight. It might have been his imagination, or perhaps Sanji had his moments of clarity and composition. But Ichiji did not possess a large imagination, so the former didn't make any sense.

Because he didn't know what to say, he returned his attention to his food while Sanji sat there, feeling uncomfortable with the sense that he'd lost track of time. That was impossible, though. He purposely blocked out memories, not present moments.