Neglectless

Soubi/Ritsuka. Possible Seimei/Ritsuka—if you're inclined to squint in that direction.

Shounen-ai. Slight angst, some pretty heavy Sap.

The snow was falling heavier now; the flurries that had made halos around the streetlamps were now blotting out their meager light. Ritsuka shivered violently and grit his teeth against the pain that shot through his side. He didn't have a warm coat and one of his shoes wasn't properly on, but it seemed impossible to bend over and retie it. His ankle was a hot contrast to the rest of his frozen body as it throbbed with pain. He'd really messed things up this time.

Blinking against the haze of confusion that clouded his mind, Ritsuka realized he had walked into a frozen park. As he made his way forward, he could see an odd shadow loom around him. It was playground equipment, slowly being buried in the snow. Ritsuka stumbled to the children's slide and carefully sat on the ground near one of the platforms that made the steps. He gasped as pain shot through his injured leg and his side.

Cautiously, he crawled under the slide and wedged himself in a corner made by the plastic walls; at least the snow wasn't falling there, even if it still blew in from the opening. Ritsuka's teeth rattled as he suppressed a shiver and stifled a cough, as it would surely make the pain in his side flare up again.

The evening hadn't started out bad, really. He'd been working on a project for school, looking for information online and scribbling down notes when his mother had knocked on his door and insisted he come eat his dinner. He vaguely recalled telling her to wait for a moment as he wrote down the last web address.

His mother had sounded cheerful for once and had been acting normal for the past few days; Ritsuka was hoping they might have a dinner like they must have been when he was younger, before he could remember. His mother was still standing in the hallway when he stepped out of his room.

"Ritsuka?" She'd asked him.

"Yes, mother?" He'd cautiously replied, automatically edging away.

"Your hair is long."

"Yes, mother," came his cautious answer. This conversation was new.

He stood, nonplussed as she searched in her apron pockets for something. With wide eyes, he'd watched her pull out a pair of silver scissors and stepped towards him.

"Why don't I cut it for you? I know you hate boys with long hair." Her lips pressed into a tight smile.

His mouth was dry as he backed away. Panic flooded his system.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Ritsuka? I always used to cut your hair before," her expression changed. "Who are you? Why do you look like my Ritsuka? Where is he?" Her voice was getting shrill.

"Mother," he'd said, still backing away but now with urgency.

"You're not my Ritsuka! How dare you call me your mother?" she'd yelled, slapping him with her free hand. He'd stumbled, trying to turn away and run but falling as he felt a white-hot pain shoot through his ankle. Unfortunately, he was at the end of the upper hallway and only the stairs were there to greet him. By the time he'd tumbled down to the flat floor below, his heart seemed that it would beat through his chest. His side hurt from how he had landed and it was making him dizzy with pain. He'd just managed to grab his shoes as he stumbled to the front door. Just as he reached for the handle, a fine china plate crashed against the wall; he cringed and felt some of the shards nick his face. Ritsuka didn't hesitate to get outside, there was no where but his room to hide in the house and he was much too short to climb up to the window.

Everything hurt and the rest seemed to be frozen as he walked in the snow. Maybe he could find Yuiko's house, he'd been there a few times before and it really wasn't all that far…

A faint jingle broke his hazy mind out of his reverie. Ritsuka shivered again and reached in his pocket carefully. He'd forgotten about his phone. The little red light lit up his snowy hideaway with its insistent blinking. He suppressed another cough and flipped it open. Ritsuka's voice cracked as he answered; his throat was dry. In contrast, Soubi's words were warm as he spoke. He must have finished his evening class early.

"Ritsuka?"

He realized he hadn't said anything.

"Yes?" Pulling his uninjured leg closer and considered eating some of the fresh snow to moisten his throat. No, that was dumb; it would just make him colder.

"Ritsuka? I can barely hear you, where are you?" Soubi's concerned voice was getting lost in the sleepy haze in his mind. He tilted his head back and let it rest against the wall. His breath was a cloud in front of him.

"Where?" He licked his cold, chapping lips as he tried to remember. "In the park."

"Park?" Soubi's voice sounded alarmed. "What park?"

He paused, thinking. It would be so easy to just sleep instead of think.

"The one with the horse statue."

"Ritsuka, Where are you?" The voice was insistent.

"Um," he closed his eyes as the haze took over, his voice just a whisper. "Under the slide."

…..

Soubi cursed, slamming the cab door and nearly running across the icy street. Ritsuka had said something about a horse statue; there were two city parks soldiers riding horses. Luckily, the blond could only think of one with a playground slide. What was the boy thinking, being outside in this weather? Something was definitely wrong.

Blinking into the darkness of the snow, he tried to recall where the playground was. Finally, he saw the shapes of swings looming ahead.

Soubi anxiously looked around the playground equipment, as the slide was attached to a larger climbing structure. Digging through the snow that had accumulated under the steps, his fingertips caught something on the ground. It was a shoe, Ritsuka's shoe.

"Ritsuka?" He called, hastily shoveling more snow aside with his frozen hands. A large chunk of ice broke off of the top step and slid down to the ground, exposing a faint blue glow from beneath the snow. With renewed vigor, Soubi went to that platform and began to dig again. His hands were numb.

In the dimness underneath the playground equipment, the fighter could just make out Ritsuka's form, slumped in a corner. His cell phone was just beyond his slack fingertips, open and glowing its butterfly wallpaper into the shadows.

"Ritsuka?" Soubi whispered, fear suddenly taking his breath. He crouched under the platform, pulled off one of his gloves, and tentatively touched the boy's lips.

With a sigh of relief, he sat back onto his heels. The boy was still breathing.

Ritsuka's form seemed to be awkwardly crumpled, with one hand clutching his side, one leg curled under him and the other sticking out of the shelter, shoeless. Though the blond wasn't sure, but he thought he could see dark cuts on the boy's face.

While replacing the shoe onto its owner's foot, Soubi noticed the attached ankle seemed to be swollen, stretching the sock tight. The fighter frowned but carefully gathered his friend into his arms, slipped the boy's cell phone into his pocket, and quickly made his way back to the cab.

The driver grumbled at his passengers but didn't ask any questions as he drove. Soubi breathed a sigh of relief but couldn't get the tightness of worry to leave his throat. Closing his eyes, he kissed the boy's cold, soft hair and held him just a bit tighter.

"Ritsuka," he whispered.

…..

The dark-haired student was still asleep when they arrived at Soubi's apartment. Stepping in quietly, the man listened for signs of Yoji or Natsuo. Since it was silent, he figured that they must have already gone to sleep in the storage room.

After setting the boy on the bed, he carefully pulled off his small shoes and examined his injured ankle. It was swollen but didn't seem to be broken. Still, a dark bruise was forming, just below the ankle bone.

"Sprained." He said quietly to himself, looking over the boy's form. Ritsuka's sweater and pants were wet with melted snow, one of his cheeks was beginning to sport the shadow of a bruise, and there were small cuts scattered across his face. With a determined frown, Soubi set to work.

He pulled the boy's socks off, wary of his injured ankle. The jeans were easier, as they were nearly too large for him anyway, but the sweater was going to be the hardest.

Ritsuka had been clutching at his side earlier, indicating a possible injury. After laying a blanket across the boy's lower half, Soubi carefully rolled up the damp sweater and undershirt.

A large bruise darkened his ribs on one side into purples and blues. Slowly, Soubi laid his hand across the area, feeling for anything unusual. When Ritsuka jolted in his sleep and winced with a sharp gasp, the man hastily sat back.

With a possible rib fracture, Soubi knew he couldn't waste time. Even advanced healing took a while and he couldn't stand the thought of Ritsuka being in that much pain. With careful hands, he eased the dark-haired boy's sweater off.

Fortunately, there was just enough ice in the freezer to make a pack for the boy's ankle. Soubi hoped there were enough bandages left in the first aid kit. After dressing Ritsuka's ankle, he carefully sat the boy up and leaned him against his shoulder. It really wasn't easy to bandage an unconscious person's middle, no matter what the size difference was. Halfway through, the sacrifice made a sound and Soubi froze.

"Ritsuka?" he asked. The thin arms around his neck tensed slightly.

"Soubi?" Came the barest, pained whisper.

"Shh." He hugged the boy and kissed his cheek lightly. "Sleep. I'll take care of you."

"Sou…?"

"Shh. Sleep."

Soubi leaned back far enough to watch Ritsuka's dark eyes close before he worked on wrapping his ribs again; hypnosis would only last for so long.

…..

"You're alright." Seimei's voice was gentle and soothing. He never sounded worried, only confident and comforting.

Ritsuka nodded and wiped at teary face with his sleeve. His brother began wrapping his other foot. He could still hear plates shattering against the wall outside of their haven.

"Just remember to leave your socks on when she's in moods like this. They should help if you have to run across broken china again."

The boy nodded again as Seimei finished the bandage and sat beside his younger brother. There wasn't much to say, it wasn't as if these incidents didn't happen weekly. They both knew it wasn't their mother's actions as much as it was her words that hurt the most. Ritsuka could still hear her talking in the next room.

"Ritsuka? My Ritsuka! Where have you gone? I love you, Ritsuka! Come back, Ritsuka!"

"Don't listen to her," Seimei said as he smiled down at him, wrapping the boy in a hug. Ritsuka clung to his older brother and buried his face in his thick sweater. Seimei was always so calm and strong, with a steady heartbeat. It was a complete contrast to his own shaking form and erratic pulse.

"Only listen to me." Ritsuka could feel his soft lips against his forehead, his large hand running slow circles over his back. "I'll take care of you."

The boy blinked and winced as something stung his face. Seimei's fingers, armed with a wet cottonball, descended once again onto a cut on his cheek.

"You promise?" He asked his older brother and grimaced at another sting. Seimei didn't even have to think about it.

"You'll always be taken care of, Ritsuka. I promise."

The boy cringed again as another cut was treated, then opened his eyes.

"Sei…mei?" His mouth was dry and his voice soft with disuse. Soubi's cheerful face loomed over him, dabbing at his forehead with a stinging cottonball. Ritsuka winced as other various hurts made themselves known.

"I was hoping you'd sleep longer." The blond smiled apologetically and dabbed at his face again.

"Here, take this." He placed a small pill into the boy's hand and gave him a glass of water. "It should help with the pain."

Ritsuka took the medicine but didn't respond. He closed his eyes and wished Soubi didn't have to see him in this state, his mind still felt foggy and his body pained. He listened to the older man get up and put away the first aid kit then step back to the bed. Ritsuka felt a kiss his forehead and wrinkled his nose at the muted smell of tobacco.

"What's wrong with your nose?" Soubi's voice was amused. When the boy opened his eyes, he saw that the smiling man was anticipating a joke. Ritsuka felt his face warm; he wasn't about to tell his friend that he smelled bad.

"What is it?" The adult asked in a more subdued tone, watching the dark-haired boy. "You can order me to stop kissing you, if you want." He said quietly, still looking at his sacrifice intently.

"No, it's not that." Ritsuka shook his head, still blushing. "You smell like cigarette smoke." He whispered, feeling his face flame brighter as the man laughed.

"Would you rather I didn't smoke?" Soubi asked with an amused lilt to his voice. Ritsuka picked at a piece of lint on the blanket, not confirming nor refuting his friend's inquiry. After another minute he spoke.

"It makes my nose itch." The boy admitted, still not meeting his blue-eyed gaze. He looked up though, when the man shrugged and pulled the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. Ritsuka watched with wide eyes as he crushed the box in his hand, let it fall into the trashcan, and set the lighter in the windowsill by an unlit candle.

"Why'd you do that?" Ritsuka demanded. "You're always smoking."

"I quit." Soubi shrugged again and sat by his agitated sacrifice. "I'd do anything for you, Ritsuka."

"Only because Seimei told you to." The younger student said in a quiet, angry voice.

"That may be true," the fighter agreed in a soft tone and watched the boy turn away. "But that doesn't mean I can't want to make you happy on my own."

"Isn't that what you want, Ritsuka?" He added in a whisper as he ran a gentle hand over the boy's bruised cheek. "You ask things of me that Seimei never would have thought of."

Soubi leaned close to his sacrifice, running the pad of his thumb over the boy's soft lower lip.

"I love you, Ritsuka." He whispered and was suddenly pushed back by a startlingly strong arm.

"Don't say that—!" Shouting, the boy had tried to launch himself off the bed but had only succeeded in sliding to floor with a groan. The blond man was quick to try and assist him.

"Don't say that," Ritsuka panted, clutching his side. "I don't want to hear it, not unless you really mean it." He leveled his best glare at the fighter.

"I love y—," He tried again.

"No!" The boy scrubbed at his face with frustrated movements. "At least think about it! That means it's at least important!"

Soubi mentally counted for half a minute, letting the dark-haired boy calm down.

"Ritsuka," He said with a slight smile. "I love you."

"Soubi." The boy scowled through the fall of his hair.

"Yes?"

"You're really bad at this." He grumbled.

"I'm sorry." The older student chuckled, helping his friend up to sit on the edge of the bed.

"If you love me so much," Ritsuka intoned in a frustrated voice. "Why don't you say what you love about me?"

Soubi was caught off-guard by the request and blinked, thinking.

"You can't even do it, can you?" The boy looked away and settled back, onto his palms, his voice and ears showing signs of defeat. All of his emotions seemed to be swirling together again.

"But I do love you." Soubi told him, leaning forward.

Ritsuka refused to look at the adult but blinked as light, warm fingertips traced his jaw and lifted his head. He closed his eyes tight as he felt a kiss brush down his forehead. Ritsuka knew he had to be blushing as his heart rate skyrocketed. Soubi's lips lightly kissed his closed eyes, his nose, then his lips. Then the man's arms encircled him and he felt a slight pressure against his collar.

"What are you doing?" Ritsuka's voice came out as just a whisper. One of his traitorous hands was already entwining itself into the fighter's pale hair.

"Listening, to what I love the most about you." Was the man's quiet, cryptic reply. "I love you, Ritsuka."

A moment later, Soubi helped his friend back into bed and kissed his cheek again. The dark-haired sacrifice remained silent but watched the older man get up and begin to wash a stack of dishes by the sink. His mind wandered and he was soon drifting to sleep. A minty-smelling kiss on his cheek woke him only a few minutes later.

"Sorry," Soubi looked sheepish as he bent over the bed to smooth the boy's hair away from his face. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Ritsuka felt sleepy and chilled; his mind still hazy. Unsuccessfully, he tried to suppress a shiver.

"Are you still cold?"

With tired eyes he blinked to look at Soubi's concerned face. Ritsuka didn't reply; it would take too much effort.

The blond turned to gather up all of the scattered clothing on the ground and lay it across the floorboards to dry. Afterwards, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his own wet socks and shirt. Ritsuka stared at the light pink scars that ran across the man's otherwise smooth back as they cut into his skin in curves. Soubi stopped moving when the boy traced one terrible arc with his finger.

"Do they still hurt?" He asked quietly.

Shaking his head, the fighter slipped under the blankets and carefully wrapped his warm arms around the dark-haired boy.

"Not anymore."

"Did you still have your ears then?" Ritsuka's curiosity blurted out. He could feel his face heat up when Soubi chuckled.

"Yes, I did."

Ritsuka shivered then grimaced in pain but was silent as his friend curled around him. He waited for the man to continue. The sacrifice didn't resist as he was slowly pulled close; Soubi's warm skin and heartbeat were comforting to his weary mind.

"But I lost my ears shortly after."

Another long pause stretched in the apartment and threatened to put the boy to sleep.

"Do you remember, when I said you didn't have to worry about your ears because I wouldn't do anything?" Soubi's quiet voice broke the silence.

Ritsuka yawned and hummed an affirmative. Though he felt half asleep, his ears pricked forward to hear his friend's words.

"That's because," he paused, his voice just a thread against the heavy silence of the room. "I haven't done anything with anyone since sensei took my ears."

The dark-haired boy was silent for a few moments before he spoke.

"Why are you telling me this now?" He asked, looking up to the man's calm face.

"Because I want to make a stronger bond with you." Soubi smiled warmly and bent to kiss his small nose. "I want to gain your trust and you seem to have problems with me not telling you everything. Having the same name gives a team strength, but so does having a strong bond."

"I don't care about names," Ritsuka yawned. "But I'm glad you see the sense in being truthful." The boy fidgeted, trying to find a more comfortable place to lay his head.

"Soubi?" He asked.

"Yes?" The adult murmured in response.

"Where are my clothes?" The boy's face flamed at the revelation.

"Drying on the floor." Came Soubi's amused reply.

"Ah."

"Go to sleep, Ritsuka. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Hm."

Soubi made sure the boy was completely asleep before he began to murmur hypnotic healing spells into one of his soft, black ears. Though Soubi was sure he wouldn't get any sleep that night, he knew the boy's injuries would be healed by morning.

fin

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