the end
Shouichi can't remember much.
"Oi, Irie!"
He can't, even if he wants to. Memories seem to escape him every time he tries to force himself to remember.
It's something... Something important, he knows, but the more he tries, the farther away those memories move from him, the thick fog of his mind swallowing them all and leaving him an empty shell.
He's Irie Shouichi.
He loves robotics, programming, and studying. He remembers going to college in the USA. He remembers Byakuran Gesso.
He remembers... he remembers... this feeling he used to have when he spent time with Byakuran in the college, playing Choice and other games in order to ease their boredom.
Choice... Somehow, that name triggers something...
His heart hurts; his chest feels like it's on fire.
And so he succumbs to the darkness again.
A hand runs through his auburn locks of hair, and Shouichi stirs at the feeling of a not-so-gentle touch, eyelids flickering open with reluctance.
The darkness feels more inviting than the glaring lights of what is assumably a hospital room with all of its whiteness.
The light hurts his eyes, burning his retinas, or so it feels like.
He closes his eyes again after catching a flash of aquamarine color.
"Keep on sleeping, Irie Shouichi," the monotonous, yet oddly full of contempt, voice speaks quietly, and Shouichi's ears twitch to catch the mumbled words. "Byakuran-sama has no time for you as of now."
Byakuran-san...?
The thought lasts for a nanosecond before he's pulled into the darkness again, this time against his own will.
He dreams of orange fire with a glow so bright that he could go blind. He dreams of anger-filled, brown eyes that hold startling conviction, and it's enough to make his heart swell with inexplicable hope-
-but those same eyes lose all of the conviction; dullness claws its way to the irises of the brunet, and Shouichi knows the boy just took his last breath.
His eyes sting with suppressed tears, and his hands clutches his crutch even more tightly as his mouth opens up to let out a loud yell-
"Tsunayoshi-kun!"
A white fluff of hair sways, and then those purple eyes he knows too well are on Shouichi.
He can see the smirk before it appears on the pale face.
Poor Shou-chan picked the losing team, didn't he?
He feels the touch even before the hand descends into his auburn hair, and he instinctively shifts. Not out of panic; he's too tired to react to that feeling.
"Oh? Shou-chan's awake, isn't he?"
That voice... Shouichi frowns in his half-asleep state and rolls over to his other side where Byakuran Gesso is not-
Oh, but he is there.
A hand dips into his reddish hair, and he has to swallow thickly as more memories flow into his mind. Memories of times past, mostly of how this same hand used to ruffle his hair with affection back in college, how those fingers-
He cuts that train of thought before it could go further, and forces his green eyes open as his heart beats like he has been taking part in a marathon or...
Choice.
Shouichi's eyes widen involuntarily.
That's right.
His plan... Their plan has failed...
Byakuran's eyes watch him with glee shining in the depths of violet that Shouichi can't evade in his state.
"I told you that you'd see who was right, didn't I, Shou-chan?" he questions, the false tenderness in his voice contradicting the malicious glint in his eyes.
Shouichi swallows again, unable to formulate an answer. He's scared, most of all, and the small, bursting bubble of anger doesn't change that.
This... this was not supposed to happen.
"Oh, don't look so scared, Shou-chan," Byakuran continues, his hand moving down from Shouichi's hair down to the ashen cheek. "I'm not going to hurt you, after all."
Shouichi doesn't reply as he tries to break the eye contact, only to find his willpower shattering under the underlying sneer that taints Byakuran's lips.
Byakuran's hand slithers down to Shouichi's neck, and Shouichi forces himself not to react violently as it would only provide more entertainment for Byakuran's sickened mind.
Not that he could react violently, in the first place; his limbs hurt all over and his back feels like he has been lying on cactus needless for the past week.
"I missed you, my dear second-in-command," Byakuran continues with that same disgustingly sweet voice from before even though his eyes are anything but pleasant as they gaze at the bedridden redhead, who all but shudders at the look.
"Did you have fun with Tsunayoshi-kun?"
There's that nasty undertone in Byakuran's voice that makes Shouichi sick to his stomach, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to evade the intruding gaze and the dark glint.
This... why... All of that planning, all of his struggles...
All for nothing?
A thumb brushes over his Adam's apple, and Shouichi twitches in agitation.
"No? Well, I'll make sure Shou-chan has lots of fun with me, then," Byakuran purrs, not minding the way Shouichi is almost trembling under his touch.
And then Shouichi blacks out again.
The next time he reaches consciousness, he's no longer in the glaring white hospital room. Instead, he seems to be in a well-decorated, rich-colored bedroom and that's enough to make his stomach act up.
Shouldn't he be locked away?
For aiding Vongola?
Or is this simply one of Byakuran's games of mind, again?
Shouichi sighs, but he can't bring himself to move. Not that he can, anyhow; both of his hands have been chained to the headboard of the king-sized bed that is glamorous enough to belong to Byakuran.
His stomach twists at that realization.
He remembers everything now, with painful clarity, and the memories would be enough to paralyze and render him immobile even if there weren't any chains.
His stomach aches more, and he closes his eyes again, the expression on his face being one of utter agony.
The deceivingly soft mattress inclines under him as he turns over onto his back, eyes tightly shut and hands wrapped over his abdomen.
Byakuran has gotten what he wanted from the start, and-
Shouichi shudders, trying to suppress the tears of anger and defeat that threaten to rise into his eyes.
He can see the sight of Sawada Tsunayoshi's corpse lying limp on the burnt ground, blackened blades of grass framing his face and body underneath, and that ashen, lifeless face-
Wake up, he wants to scream. Tsunayoshi-kun, please wake up!
Please, don't be... dead.
Shouichi shifts on the mattress, tugging from his handcuffs tentatively. No chance that they would give away; he's about as strong as a baby (not the Arcobaleno, obviously, but the regular, lollipop-sucking kids) and in addition he feels like his stomach's about to turn 360 degrees around yet again.
Shouichi curls up and buries his head into the mattress, unwilling to let the first sight Byakuran has of him to be his crying face.
There's so much pleasure Byakuran would draw from seeing it, and the redhead doesn't want to give him that.
But his eyes sting, he can't deny that.
Byakuran is a cruel, cruel creature.
Creature because Shouichi knows there's not one shred of humanity left under that sugary sweet mask Byakuran wears.
Perhaps monster would be even more accurate, he thinks to himself as he's seated on one of the chairs around the round table covered with a crimson-colored, silk cloth.
Byakuran's attempt to be romantic.
Shouichi's stomach burns at that thought, and his jaw clenches slightly as the said monster's hand brush against the nape of the redhead's neck, a subtle warning that he'd better not try to get away from Byakuran.
"Stop looking so glum, Shou-chan," Byakuran hums, as his face enters Shouichi's vision from the other side of the table. The redhead barely blinks. "It's not like this is so bad, right?" Byakuran's hand moves to clasp Shouichi's from underneath the table, and Shouichi's face pales accordingly.
He's not screaming anymore, though, and in Byakuran's eyes that is progress – even though Shouichi has now shut himself off from the mafioso, no, ruler of the world would perhaps be better-
No.
God.
Shouichi doesn't respond verbally and merely stares at Byakuran blankly.
Doing that much is draining because he doesn't want to look at his former-friend-turned-into-a-monster-and-it's-all-his-fault.
Byakuran's hand squeezes Shouichi's, and Shoucihi tries to remain blank.
Tries being the operative word here.
Byakuran's eyes light up like the fourth of July, and Shouichi knows he has shown something. Something very amusing for Byakuran.
He grits his teeth together, shoulders and posture tense.
The freezing cold thumb caresses the palm of Shouichi's hand, and Shouichi bites his lip.
Bear with it.
Bear with it until you can get out.
Having said that...
It's not so easy to leave once Byakuran has a firm grasp over him and his whole being, both physically and mentally.
Not to mention that he's always, always being watched; either by one of the Funeral Wreaths – who keep shooting him nasty glances when they think he doesn't notice – or the security cameras that are installed everywhere.
Even the bathroom...
...or should he say especially the bathroom?
The thought of escape is nothing more than a fleeting flicker of foolish hope, and Shouichi feels that flicker extinguishing with a sharp hiss upon this realization.
There's no escape from Byakuran...
...nor from this world that once was the only one where defeating Byakuran had been possible.
And yet it ended in a failure.
Shouichi wishes-
One day – he can't pinpoint which because all the days are the same in this hell hole – he comes to the realization that he can't remember Tsunayoshi-kun's voice or facial features, and it's enough to make him tremble in Byakuran's tight – suffocating – hold.
"Hm?" Byakuran's hot breath is enough to make Shouichi's blood freeze in his veins even after all this time. "If Shou-chan's cold, he should say so." Byakuran's hands tighten around him, pulling the rigid redhead even closer to him on the bed.
Byakuran has this... presence that demands attention, and it's even more pronounced now that Byakuran has gotten everything he had desired in the past.
Tsunayoshi-kun...
Why is he forgetting such an important-
He can't even recall the shade of brown that Tsunayoshi's eyes were.
Shouichi bites down on his lower lip when Byakuran's lips press against his cheek, moving slowly down to Shouichi's collarbone, none too gently scraping his pearly white teeth against Shouichi's tender skin.
A soft, barely noticeable noise leaves the redhead's lips, and he curses at himself for that.
Byakuran, meanwhile, grins – because Shou-chan's body always betrays the redhead's frigid appearance and behavior.
It's so cute.
In the end, Byakuran is quite happy with the way things turn out.
The world, his world, has been recreated from scratch, with him as the rightful God who watches from above at the people struggling oh so feebly against his control.
Oh, people are so amusing sometimes-
His Funeral Wreaths, his loyal and oh so dependable, accompany him from time to time, but they have their own areas to maintain and reign over while Byakuran remains at the headquarters in Italy, watching over everything.
With his beloved Shou-chan, of course.
Speaking of Shou-chan, he's a lot tamer than he used to be, and Byakuran feels almost bad about it, and only because Shou-chan isn't trying to fight anymore, not even in his own silent way.
Now, the redhead simply takes everything in, accepts things as they are, and even responds to Byakuran's seducing actions, though not as verbally as Byakuran would hope for.
Shou-chan is still refusing to speak.
Or... maybe he has forgotten how to speak?
Still, Byakuran isn't complaining as Shouichi's slender fingers entwine with his and squeeze in that adorably nervous manner that Byakuran finds absolutely endearing while they both sit on their respective seats in the vast, bleached room; Byakuran on his throne and Shouichi on the seat to his right.
Shouichi's glazed, dark green eyes stare forwards, lips pressed together as always, and someone might even dare to say that he's lost all his will to go on.
And they would be right.
At least, the will to resist has died along with the faint memories of Sawada Tsunayoshi and the group once called Vongola.
And Byakuran finally has everything he has been seeking for and more; Shou-chan is a precious bonus that is as refreshing as their first meeting in that particular universe had been.
It is only appropriate that the one to reveal his gift is there at his side when everything has ended, is it not?
