"A friend is a rare book where only one copy was made." - Anonymous

"Friends bring color to life." - Anonymous

It was decided without a word, yet final all the same. Soubi was the artist; Ritsuka, the writer. Two very different talents, yet strong all the same.

Soubi had the ability to make you feel as if you could merely touch the canvas and float off into the realm he had just created. You could smell the salty air of the sea, or touch the delicate petals of the flowers. The cliff gave you vertigo, and the sun lit up the forest. Ritsuka went to an art show where one of Soubi's pieces was featured: a glorious snow-covered glacier bathing in the moonlight. Ritsuka swore up and down that he felt cooler coming out of the gallery. But maybe that was just the air-conditioning.

The young Sacrifice, however, had a power all his own. When he wrote, he brought all of the character's emotions into your heart. You felt what they felt; the sorrow, the laughter, the annoyance and fear. When he had once submitted an essay, Shinonome-sensei took him aside after class and told him privately that the reason he had gotten full marks was because he had made her cry. Embarrassed, Ritsuka couldn't figure that one out, the essay had been on sunlight.

Ritsuka loved the expression Soubi had when he was painting. It was peaceful, almost like sleep. There was no rigidity that Soubi's frame took occasionally, nothing hiding behind the blue eyes that mocked Ritsuka when he yearned to know something. He looked so relaxed, so at ease that if he were a teensy more loose, he could drop the brush. He took a photo of Soubi at work once, it still sat in his bedside drawer.

Soubi told his Sacrifice that he looked cute every day; but even more so, it seemed, when he was writing.

"You wiggle the pen between your fingers and just stare at it," Soubi laughed.

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do! You're doing it right now!" the blonde's chuckles continued.

To his dismay, Ritsuka looked down at the fingers of his right hand. Damn.

"Sometimes when you can't think of an idea, you lean back and stick your tongue out at the ceiling."

"I do?" Ritsuka scratched his cat ear with the pen.

"Mh-hm." Soubi blew smoke out the balcony door as he sat against it.

Ritsuka thought this over for a moment and looked down at the blank paper in front of him. Peeking over at Soubi's easel, he saw that the canvas was blank as well. Suddenly, he received the inspiration for his story. With his pen flying across the paper, he stole a glance at Soubi, who was now at his easel, selecting a lilac shade from his paints.

XxX

Ritsuka could hardly contain his excitement to see Soubi that afternoon. He had been able to type up his story in his free block on the computer, and was ecstatic to see what Soubi would think. Tapping his foot underneath his desk, he received a kick from Yayoi.

"That's really annoying!" the other boy hissed.

"Sorry!" Ritsuka whispered back cheerfully.

"Why are you so bubbly today, Ritsuka-kun?" Yuiko said, amused.

"Dunno, just am."

"Okay, then." Yayoi gave him a You-Are-So-Weird look.

Rushing out the door before anyone else at the bell, Ritsuka made it outside in record time, despite Yayoi's and Yuiko's calls for him to wait. Not quite looking where he was going, he ran smack into his Fighter.

"In a hurry?" Soubi chuckled.

"Soubi!" Ritsuka gasped, smiling. "Hi!"

"Hi, yourself," the blonde grinned. "Where are you going so fast?"

"Huh? Uh, nowhere. I've got something for you though!" Ritsuka's face shone, and Soubi wondered what was going on behind those eyes.

"Oh really? If that's so, I've got something for you, too."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," the blonde's smile widened. "Come, it's at home."

XxX

"Can I open my eyes yet?" Ritsuka said, his hands on Soubi's, which were covering his eyes.

Soubi laughed. "Just wait. Take another three steps."

Obeying, Ritsuka quivered ever so slightly. "Now?"

"Okay, now." Soubi removed his hands.

Focusing, Ritsuka saw his Fighter's masterpiece. He recognized himself, sitting at Soubi's desk, looking completely at ease, his favorite purple pen between his fingers and a smile on his lips. It was such a good likeness, you might've thought Soubi used a camera and blew up the picture.

Soubi smiled at Ritsuka's awe, his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Do you like it?"

"I- I love it! Thanks, Soubi!" The young boy hugged Soubi's waist.

"You're very welcome."

"Here, this is for you," Ritsuka whipped the stapled story from his backpack and put it into Soubi's hands.

The blonde stared at the title. " 'A Rarity, by Aoyagi Ritsuka'. You wrote a story for me?" Cerulean eyes widened.

"Yes," Ritsuka blushed.

"Th-thank you, Ritsuka," Soubi stuttered. He certainly hadn't expected this. Pulling his glasses on and sitting on the couch, he started to read. A little while after, one of his hands covered his mouth in shock or sadness, Ritsuka couldn't tell. After five agonizing minutes, Soubi put the story on the table and leant back.

"What do you think?" The Sacrifice asked anxiously.

"I think that Sensei and I are alike when it comes to your work," Soubi whispered, removing his glasses and swiping his sleeve across his eyes. "You're very talented, Ritsuka."

"Thank you. Do you like it, though?" Ritsuka was still nervous.

"I love it," Soubi smiled, his eyes glittering. He gestured for Ritsuka to come forth, and the boy settled himself against his protector as Soubi laid back and wrapped his arms about his little love.

"We are two of a kind, you and I," Soubi sighed.

"Yeah," Ritsuka replied. "You, the great artist, me, the author."

A tremor passed through Soubi's chest as he chuckled. "Indeed."

"Soubi?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think that even though our strengths are different, we can combine? Do you think you could erase the name Beloved and be Loveless with me?"

Soubi took a deep breath before answering. "I took on the name Loveless with you when we first fought. But by denying the Beloved name, I am an oddity. No Fighter has ever done that before."

"But together we can be greater than you and Seimei were, right? Even though we're different, we can be stronger, can't we?"

Soubi's arms tightened around his little author.

"Yes, we can," he whispered fiercely.