Nothing had truly changed since those ages past. Since they were but children curled in the massive sea of silk sheets of their bedrooms screaming into the darkness for the nightmares to end. To disappear back into the depths of the darkness where they belonged and leave them to a peaceful respite. Yet the memories were relentless in their tortures. Images of hands reacing down to stroke prepubsecent flesh. Ripples of disgust every time he recalled the sensatoins that blinded and shook him night after night once his body reached that point ina teenager's life when raw desire overrode logic and it disobeyed his every scream for it to stop. His father was incredibly skilled at his trade, knew exactly where and how to manipulate the virgin body to coax the utmost obedience.

Perhaps that's when it began.

This horrendous disgust for himself, towards his mind and body. The very skin he was stuck in that had betrayed him once it realized that desire was something it naturally craved. Even to the hands of his father Zexion fell, though he could scarcely call it willing. Too much of his mother's blood had been spilt because of his father's violent outbursts if he disobeyed. So he trained himself, eventually, to tolerate it. That wasn't to say he looked forward to it. No, he still very much dreaded the act, but it was all he could to to protect his mother until he was old enough to leave.

He never fit in.

Zexion had never believed he would ever find a kindred soul. His distrust for people was justified. He rarely spoke and was avoided by other children because of his antisocial nature. Vicious rumors spread about him but the bookworm couldn't find himself to care. All he needed was his literature and the worlds they spoke of to shield him from cruel reality. Teachers would feign concern but he just denounced their aid as he did from everyone who spoke those sweet lies they could help him. There wasn't anyone alive that could help him. No one alive that truly understood his plight. No one who could even remotely begin to comprehend the dangerous degree of self-loathing he harbored inside.

That's when they met.

He was an underclassman in the high school across the street, a freshman, sophomore at the most. Long blonde hair spilled down small shoulders belonging to a body that seemed almost too feminine in build to boast a Y chromosome. Inset in this boy's face barely visible over the stack of books he carried were two deep emerald eyes. Those eyes alone looked far too old to belong to such a young man. The sort of eyes that spoke of higher intellect, that made one feel as if their very molecular structure was being analyzed with the slightest glance.

At first he thought nothing of it.

The boy was peculiar, that was certain. The books he carried were about vastly complicated sciences. Biology, molecular physics, genetics and heredity, chemistry, anatomy and physiology. Ienzo clung tightly to the black leather bound book he had, suddenly feeling very inferior to this stranger. The boy glanced at him and took the chemistry book from the stack, immersing himself in complicated formulas and concepts. Just looking at it made Ienzo's brain want to implode.

They sat in silence for what felt like forever until only they remained seated out in front of the school.

"Even!"

Then that voice sounded belonging to a silver-haired gentleman stepping out of an idling car. The boy indicated as Even tensed, quickly shutting his book and gathering the stack. In his hurry to leave he tripped, losing several books and papers. Ienzo watched the man's eyes narrow, slowly rapping his fingers on the hood of the car. Ienzo had never taken pity on another before but the horrible fear in Even's eyes as he scrambled for the books thundered volumes only Ienzo could understand.

Ienzo gathered up the papers by his feet and slid them into a book. He had to ask... Now might be his only chance. "You too..?"

A glimmer of a million emotions whirled in Even's eyes in that instant. Fear, terror, and was that.. hope?

"I must go." he darted for the car leaving Ienzo to face the wrath of his own impending doom approaching from behind Even's chariot.

Ienzo went through the motions again that evening, calling and crying as he was demanded of, giving his father just enough to satiate himself. He was only present in body. His mind was elsewhere, vividly recalling the sheer terror in Even's eyes, the tension in his movements. Everything was a giveaway.

So he began to plot. Or moreso gather the courage to do what he'd only dreamed of doing.

The next day Even came down from the high school as expected, only this time Ienzo was waiting for him. Their eyes met and instantly that mutual understanding was bonded. They knew, they understood. They were allies united by one plight, one desire. Ienzo held out his hand to Even, his tiny voice trembling as he opened his mouth to speak several times until it finally burst forth.

"Let's run."

"...Run?" Even stared at his hand incredulously. His eyes darted every which way as his rational brain added up the consequences of the sudden impulse to take his hand and flee into the city. It was a big place, surely they could disappear. Be forgotten. He dare say as far as to be free. It was at the same time a terrifying concept. Where would they go, where would they hide? Heartless had been known to slink around the alleys at night looking for victims. Two teenage boys would be easy prey. Yet they were no ordinary teenage boys. In their own ways the two had develeoped their own array of survival skills that, blended together, would ensure their survival.

Releasing the weight, the books clattered to the ground as he took Ienzo's hand and they took flight from the frying pan into the roaring inferno.