A/N- When I started writing this, I had no intentions of threading on Loveless' toes. I mean no disrespect and I hope none is taken. I obviously do no own Loveless.

Threads of Destiny

A Bond Plucked

Sleep…Through out my life, it has been both my haven and my prison. When my body is aching with unspeakable pain, I have fallen willingly into its dark embrace. There is a solace there I have never been able to find when I am awake. Sleep can be as seductive as a lover or as dangerous as a drug that beckons to the weakness within that begs for escape. Either of these addictions is preferable to being caught within its velvet cage, held an unwilling prisoner, as memories that I have denied play out in an endless loop behind my shuttered eyes.

I awake with a nearly silent gasp, as I break free of my dark jail. My eyes slide open and the world comes into soft focus, the hard edges blurred to an impressionist's painting until I manage to perch my glasses before my imperfect eyes. The room snaps into sharp focus as I stare at my ceiling. I reach out for the nightstand beside my bed and my fingertips find my cigarettes, singling one from the box I bring it to my lips then light it. I draw the acrid smoke deep into my lungs, holding it there as I shuttle the unnecessary past back into the box it crept from while I slept. When my cigarette is nothing more than ash clinging to its former shape, I rise to start my day.

After a quick breakfast, I reach for the roll of bandages I use to wrap my throat each morning. Only a small scrap of gauze clings to the remains of the roll, barely enough to wrap my throat once, but not enough to shelter my scars from the gawking of the ignorant. I brush my fingers over the ridges of the name carved into my flesh. What will Ritsuka do to mark me as his own? I shudder at the remembered pain of Seimei's claiming. To be reborn…it is not meant to be painless, is it? I sigh as I pull the thin veil of gauze tight around my throat and secure it, the dark, raised, scars a visible shadow lying plainly through an inadequate façade. I drop the spent roll of bandaging into the trash bin. A turtleneck, today, I think. I find a black turtleneck to slip into before I finish dressing. Luckily, the days are starting to turn cool again. I grab my school supplies and pull my striped scarf loosely around my neck before leaving my apartment. I will need to go shopping before returning home tonight.

Kio ambushes me as I try to enter class. One moment I am walking and the next I am being captured in a hug from behind, almost stumbling with the force of the impact. He is all wide eyes and questions wrapped around a lollipop stick. I can't help but smile at his antics. He tries to hide his delight at my 'recovery', but I can see the fear ease from his face. I will never understand why this little poppin' jay of a man decided to attach himself to me as my friend, regardless of what I wanted, but I am grateful. I do not know if I would have made it to Ritsuka side without his care…I push that thought away to join the others that I keep locked away in the dark nooks of my mind. Instead of dwelling on the past, I join Kio in his playful flirtations, teasing and jesting as the lingering worry falls from the petit man's shoulders. We make our way into class together.

Class passes quickly as we are lectured on the use of lighting as an emotive tool. I cannot help a slight twitch of scorn at the thought of this particular sensei lecturing us on instilling emotion into a painting. I listen with only half an ear as I think about the conversation I must have with my new Master. After the last skirmish, Ritsuka will have even more questions than he did before, I have some of the answers he seeks…many of them…but I was ordered not to speak of so many of the things he needs to know. Seimei, are you laughing at me?

I am pulled from my thoughts as the lecture ends and the teacher pulls the cloth away from a still life set on the table in front of him. We are given our assignment, complete two separate drawings of the still life depicting two different emotions. I stare at the fallen vase, chipped, and flawed, lying on its side and pause. It is an unremarkable thing, battered and easily discarded. I scowl at the teacher's choice of subject, unimaginative and obvious in the response he wishes to obtain. I dutifully take up my charcoal and sketchpad and begin to draw. Clean simple lines…the shadows falling here and here… with a few strokes of the velvet, black stick; I sign my name at the bottom of the sketches then carefully affix them. I join the queue of students to turn in my work in to be later dissected by one unable to accomplish the task he had set us to do.

Kio chatters at me about the upcoming exhibition as I look up at the clock hanging in the class studio. The other students, who are also part of the show, flock to his side, drawn by his dramatic gestures and boisterous ways. I stand apart from the merry group. They are all so worried about deadlines and so many others' opinions, so wrapped up in their mundane problems and their narrow worlds. I feel as if I am a trespasser in a strange land with Kio as my native guide. I look at the clock again; it is almost time to leave to collect my Master from school. Time to return to the world I have always known.

I collect my things and give Kio a brief wave before slipping out the door. The small be-ringed man squawks at me indignantly as I smirk at him in amusement. Nothing is as important as Ritsuka. I flip my phone open to check the time and hurry to his elementary school. I arrive with enough time to spare to smoke a cigarette to help settle my nerves. The smoke swirls over my tongue, leaving its flavor behind, before it fills me and I feel some of the tenseness leave my shoulders. What will he say to me? What will he ask me? What will he ask of me?

I hear him before I see him, his voice all sharp edged and irritated. I smile as I put my cigarette out; my Master is so emotional. He seems to be talking to an older girl with a sweet piping voice. I call out his name and he stops in his tracks, a glow brightens his cheeks with a blush. He gives me a packet of photos…pictures of our first meeting…my Master thought of me and brought me pictures of us…together…I-I am so happy. He is looking at me again with those eyes and with that blush on his cheeks. My heart flutters in my chest. Those eyes want so much…dangerous, that look…it begs for someone to be his everything…

I am called away from my musings by Ritsuka voice. He asks me if I have time for him. I can't help but smile at him, amused. I am his Fighter and he is my Sacrifice, all he needs is but command me and I would obey…but my Master asks me. Heh. For him, I have all the time in the world. Then he says the words that I knew I would hear; he wants me to explain…

In the blink of an eye, my Master is attacked! The girl Ritsuka was talking to throws herself on my small Sacrifice. I stand, stunned, unsure of what I am supposed to do. Am I to protect him from overly affectionate little girls? If it bad been a boy, I would have pulled them off Ritsuka without another thought, unless ordered otherwise…but this…I am not sure where it is safe to grab. Maybe I should wait for my Master to order my assistance…

In a muddle of sharp elbows, full breasts, and tearful eyes, I find all three of us heading to the house of one very jubilant and determined Yuiko. One day, this little girl is going to have half the school wrapped around her little finger. I follow behind Ritsuka, who is half-dragged half-led by his young friend. The two of them stop at a convenience store. They want to get food here? No. Absolutely not. What could possibly be good for you to eat at such a place? I have never eaten anything that wasn't wholesome and cooked to fit the nutritional needs of this body. A brief flitting image of my stash of beer and vodka came to mind…but I am not a growing teenager anymore! I offer to cook for all of us…after all Ritsuka is small for his age, he should eat better.

Yuiko-kun lets us into her home and I set to work locating ingredients and finding pans in an unfamiliar kitchen. It is only after I start to gather everything that Ritsuka thinks to scold me for bending the prohibition on using the stove. I can't help but smile. I am a complete stranger to this girl, who has invited us into her home, and an unknown factor to my young Master and he thinks to scold me for cooking? These two defenseless children should be more concerned over inviting strange men into remote places than me providing a bad example for bending well-intentioned rules. His scowl is more cute than fierce as I tell him so.

I cook for my master and for the girl who allowed us into her home. I fix us chicken and burdock much to the disinterest of Ritsuka. He tells me he prefers Big Macs…ugh. I explain he needs to train his senses, sharpen them to experience more. I try to teach him about the link between the organs and the senses. Maybe I shouldn't have brought up how the tongue can be used for smell and taste and how sensitive it can be. I simply meant to illustrate a point as to how sensitive it can be…why it can ache if it gets bitten. My stomach flutters as he looks at me with innocent eyes and asks why anyone would bite a tongue. My mind goes to dark and wet places of two mouth fused together and the wet, slick, slide of tongues punctuated with the soft scrape of teeth and the exhilarating nip of gentle bite…I force myself to reply casually that it may not be all that bad to be bitten. He looks at me in confusion. I…I think it best to abandon this for now.

After dinner and cleaning up so that Yukio's parents will have no need to reprimand their daughter, Ritsuka and I depart. The air is cool and crisp. I pull my scarf more secure around my throat and ask my Master if he is cold. He looks up at me with those wanting eyes and tells me no. I can see the fine shiver that dances over his skin and pull him close as I walk him home, the heat from my body warms him through the layers between us and brings him some ease. He doesn't push me away…My Master leans into me as if I provide him some small comfort and asks his question again. He bids me to explain.

I give him what small amount I have been left to give him. I tell him that I am the only one that can fight the one who killed Seimei. I cannot tell him of the Seven Moons; I am forbidden to tell him of those who will come to try to take him. Instead, I give all that I have to offer. I tell him I love him. I ask if he wants to kill the ones who killed Seimei. I would do that for him. I do not know who I am thinking of with that thought…whether it is Ritsuka, or Seimei…

I am pulled from these thoughts by my Master demanding to know if I know who killed Seimei. I don't know…I can only guess…but I am not allowed…I evade the impossible question and instead offer a question of my own. Seimei's will. Has he looked looked for it? I try and explain in broad strokes, leaving the details for another time, what it is to be part of a Pair. I tell him a small part of what it is to be a Sacrifice…and what will happen to him. I tell him he will hurt and he will feel pain; I ask him if he can bear the suffering he will experience. His beautiful eyes widen and I see everything he is hiding there. He already has known pain, both of the body and the soul; it is scribed there for anyone who knows the lettering to read. He looks away from me, to hide his shame and keep his secrets from spilling out into the cold night. He tells me yes, but I already know. I have seen the answer in his lilac eyes and he knows it too well.

His house is there, shrouded in darkness with only one light illuminating a solitary window. He leaves me to race toward his home. Ritsuka did not bid me go home and he did not order me not to follow…I stand in the empty street, torn between what I think my Master might want of me and what I want to do. As I stand in the darkening road, I hear a commotion from Ritsuka's house. A female is calling his name, shrill and tainted with violence and yet it has a pathetic, pleading edge. The sound grates my nerves like that of nails run across a blackboard. I remember the bandages and the bruises that are scattered across my young Master's small frame and know who is the cause. This woman is the one who put the shadows in Ritsuka's eyes.

My feet are moving before I am aware of it. I already know from my previous scouting which room is his; I can see he has already turned the light on in his room. I walk to the bars hanging beneath his room, with minimal effort; I manage to pull myself up onto his balcony. Ritsuka is already bent over the computer in his room, his delicate features set in line of impatience. Now that I am standing with only the thin barrier of a glass door between me and my Master, the pounding of the woman on his bedroom door is an assault on the senses…and the whine of her voice as she calls his name…I do not know this woman yet but already I despise her.

I knock on the glass to capture his attention. He looks up at me with disbelieving eyes as he slides the door open to allow me entry. Did he really think that I would allow such a small obstacle to stand between me and my Sacrifice when he might need me? I have lost one Sacrifice because I was absent; I will not lose Ritsuka because I am not vigilant. I will not let his small shoulders bear the price for my weakness. I offer to quiet the woman. I offer to do anything he wishes to her. I silently offer to end his pain but he tells me that this woman is his mother and I am to leave her be. I cannot help looking at the door she is pounding on with a sense of foreboding; it is such a flimsy barrier to protect such a fragile body. Is it safe for my Master to stay here? The bandage on his cheek would suggest otherwise.

Ritsuka calls to me as he types on the keyboard of the computer. He is trying to determine the password that will unlock Seimei's will. I pull a cigarette from the pack lurking in my pocket and bring it to my lips. My hands are only slightly unsteady as I light it. What will Seimei's will reveal? I know that in it, Seimei gives me to his brother…where once I was filled with bitterness at yet again being handed down like the damaged goods that I am, I find I do not mind being owned by Ritsuka. I think he might need me. He does not have a Fighter of his own and a spell-battle is the only way he can ever confront anyone from the Seven Moons.

My Master asks me to tell him once again what his true name is. I take a deep drag of my cigarette before telling. Loveless. Ritsuka's destiny is to be known as Loveless. He makes a disgruntled noise and questions what fates would give such an awful name. I cannot help the small curl of my lip as I wonder as I often have at the cruel twists and turns of destiny. They are the same fates that decreed that I was not deserving of a name of my own but only fit for the left over bits and pieces doled out by what ever Sacrifice was willing to claim me.

Loveless…it unlocks the sparse secrets of Seimei's will. Even here, Seimei refuses to give up his intrigues. I do not learn anything I did not already know but the contents seem to surprise Ritsuka. He did not seem to know that I once belonged to Seimei. His voice, so powerful as he demands to know if Seimei sent me to him. His voice…it seems to change something within me. I tell him yes. The answer is obvious and Ritsuka can read it for himself. I was given to him. My Master's voice wavers when he asks if Seimei told me to love him. His voice…I close my eyes to savor the sound of the voice which will control me. The slight treble of it as it demands…the feel of his command…almost a physical sensation as if an instrument's string has been plucked. I vibrate to the sound of his voice. SOUBI, my Master calls my name sharply. He trembles with the force of his demand that I answer him, did Seimei order me to love him. All I can answer him is…yes.

Ritsuka questions me. Do I love him because Seimei told me to…yes. Do I obey everything Seimei told me to do? ...yes. My young Master might as well have asked me if the sun rises in the east. It is not a question of if but a matter of when. I will always obey Seimei…even when he is no longer here to command me…I will obey, to the end, those orders that I have still remaining to cling to. Seimei gave me to Ritsuka…therefore I will have new orders to obey, but Seimei is my god, I cannot go against his commands simply because he is not standing here before me.

My words. They hurt Ritsuka. I can hear the tears in his voice. He is so emotional. I am more used to my owners being more bloodless beings. I do not want to hurt him; so I tell him I love him. Oh, how he trembles. He yells his denial of my words, rejecting them. Even now, he is so alive. I remind him that I alone can fight for him. I am the only one who can stand as his Fighter against the ones that took Seimei away from us. He is lost in his own dark musings and in his own grief. I slip from the room to give his what privacy I can. Tonight I am not the one that can ease his pain…and witnessing his, it calls to the dark shadows of my memories that long for a freedom I cannot give them. I exit by way of the balcony railing, dropping lightly to the street below. I light another cigarette as I look up at his room to see his silhouette still sitting at his desk. It is enough for tonight.

I walk back to my apartment. I remember to stop at the store to pick-up several rolls of bandaging for my throat and other things for my First Aid kit. I have a feeling I will be engaging in more battles in the near future and it is best to be prepared. The streets are dark and lined with lights as I climb my steps to my apartment. I drop my small bag on to the counter before opening the fridge to get a cold can of beer. I long to lie on my bed and contemplate the happenings of the day but the student exhibition is soon…I walk over to pull an empty canvas from the stack by the wall…as I prepare my paints, I can almost hear the cruel fates laughing at me…

A/N- Sorry to leave notes before and after like this. I am unsure if I should continue with this story. I would like to hear what my few readers have to say… If this story is to continue, I could seriously use a beta who is willing to read it before it is posted. I have no one I know who is even currently willing to proofread anything about Loveless. Anyone who feels qualified and interested please let me know.