"Yu…"

It was a hazy sort of gray behind his eyelids, and the only thing his subconscious could conjure up about his current situation was a lazy urgency, a need to rouse but not one that he should answer just yet. He doesn't feel like he could anyway, his reactions to everything at the moment are lagging. He isn't thinking or moving, and the only thing that really registers right at this moment is a heavy feeling that presses down firmly on his chest, compressing and constricting.

But he doesn't have to wake, not yet. Because there is no reason for it. Right? Why wake when he is warm in here? And safe. Safe? From what? What does he have to fear? What is…? Where…where is here? His thoughts are coming back to him, but in confused, cut up circles, swirling around in his brain.

Why should I wake from this sleep? What is there even to wake from? To wake to? I feel like there's something I should remember…there is something important I have- no. No, no I think perhaps I should just stay-

Cutting through the gray fog of his weary mind he hears a whisper, floating airily through his muddled, half-formed thoughts, so unexpected that he wonders whether it was real or if he imagined it. For this particular voice, however, his imagination tormenting him wouldn't be much of a stretch.

"Yu, wake up…"

And he wakes with a start, his eyes snapping open at the sound of- no, it wasn't that that had awoken him, which would be crazy, it must have been the mad, incessant pounding in his head, or the dull throbbing in his chest. He is being assaulted by pain like he's never known before; pulsing through him, but it's all quiet, and muted, like a memory (or a ghost). It is flitting at the edge of his consciousness and he cannot capture it, but where, where DID THIS PAIN COME FROM?!

For one alarming millisecond he can't remember where he is, or how he got there. He is filled only with a horrifyingly familiar sense of déjà vu. He has woken up here before. But- that's not possible- tha- THAT PLACE WAS DESTROYED-?! Wait! Wait...

In the span of the few seconds that it takes for his memories to come back to him he notices several things at once. First, that it is darker than he remembers, the harsh lighting dimmer inside the tank, making seeing outside of it easier than it was before. Second, the now more-visible lab outside the tank is completely empty, the scientists that had been there previously nowhere to be seen. The third is that no one has yet come to take him out of here.

He's feeling sluggish and slow, which, considering his whereabouts, isn't really that surprising, but the sharp pain in his arm is, as is the red substance swirling around by his left ear, just barely in his peripheral vision. Thin and frayed like crimson thread it's dancing, making slow, intricate patterns that refuse to mix with the water it's floating in. Wait…refusing to mix, red in the water…red. Is he…bleeding? He shouldn't really feel surprised at that either. Of course his healing powers would be slow here…but…how did he get cut?

He is startled out of his reverie by a light; nearly unbearable to him in the semi darkness he'd been floating in before. It is flowing in from the door to his left, opened by a man in a white lab coat, holding a clipboard, expression unreadable. The boy nearly sighs in relief and annoyance. Took them long enough. Kanda watches as he closes the door behind him, walks further into the room, and sits, facing him, in the shadows.

They stare at each other for a moment that seems to drag on forever, both apparently waiting for something from the other. As every agonizing second turns into tense minutes, Kanda's irritation grows to dangerous levels, as does his confusion. An uneasy haze settles over him, just from looking into the man's eyes. There is no guilt there, no remorse, and, frighteningly, no promise of being freed. They are empty. And it's infuriating. He blinks.

Then, as if breaking out of some sort of reverie, the scientist looks down at his clipboard and begins to ignore Kanda completely.

He waves at him, trying to get the stupid man's attention, because he clearly wasn't doing the job he was sent in to do, which was to take him out of this prison. Right? The man's twitches noticeably, but reacts only by writing furiously on whatever note he was making on the clipboard.

He smacks the glass.

And something snaps inside him.

He remembers why he felt such an urgency to leave this place upon waking. It was such a simple thing really, a matter of survival. He doesn't even really know why he didn't figure it out sooner.

He cannot breathe.

He couldn't breathe before.

His lungs had filled with water.

And he'd died.

And now he was dying again.

NO! Not again, not again, this- this isn't like
last time-

This time I don't want to go back to sleep…

And he begins to fade again, the lack of oxygen once again taking over his body, damaging again what had been repaired, and he thrashes, the surrounding liquid dancing around him as he flails. He needs to get out right now, right now, because he needs to breathe, he needs to get out, he- he… he needs to rescue her, he needs to rescue Lenalee, god dammit all. He can't explain himself, not then, but at that moment, all of his thoughts were of that girl and escape.

Everything felt too sharp, to harsh, cutting into him like knives when it was only water, harmless calm water. Harmless water that had calmly ravaged his body and strangled his lungs (when had he opened his mouth…?). Calm…like the rain. But he cannot bring himself to be calm right now. He cannot bring himself to do anything. Because he is tired, so, so tired

Someone-

Someone, please-

He reaches out with a stiff hand for the ceiling, a hopeless and stupid gesture here, because this isn't like last time, and there is no one here to reach down, in honest kindness, and take it, no one to save him from that eternal rest that he'd had no idea that he would've, desperately wanted to stay in. There it is, that constricting feeling in his chest, pressing, pushing, and now he understands, ah, it is his heart, it hurts. He grasps the front of his sodden shirt, the fabric squishing between his desperate fingers that are clenching, clenching, clenching, please make it stop, the pain, it's inside, help

HELP ME-!

The lack of oxygen finally hits his brain, and he shuts down once more.

.

He was sitting in a stairwell, a little one that led up to the roof. He was perched on the window sill, the window itself about a foot away from the stairs. He'd jumped, from the metal to the stone ledge, confident that he wouldn't fall, and knowing that, even if he did, it would only take a minute or two for him to heal whatever wound he received. It was worth it though, just for a few moments to himself. Since he'd arrived at this place he'd been rarely left alone, and that was all he'd really wanted lately, to be alone. To be left with his thoughts, regardless of how negative they'd become. He wasn't interested in feeling happy anymore. He wasn't really interested in feeling anything.

The sun had sunk low in the sky before anyone walked by his hiding place. At that point in the evening the shadows being thrown on the walls were enough to conceal him from any passing eyes. So when she did tiptoe by him she did not look at him, advancing too quickly and too focused to notice the dark figure two feet away from her. He, however, saw her, and perhaps it was the way the sun's dying rays were glancing oddly off her face, or maybe the odd blank look in her eye, but when Lenalee passed him by he felt compelled to follow. So when she was about a flight ahead of him he leapt back onto the metal stair, as quiet as if the dusty steps themselves were padded with carpet, and slunk up the stairs after her.

When he got to the top of the final flight she was already out of sight, the door she'd slipped through just closing shut as he stepped onto the landing. He approached it, hand reaching for the knob, still unsure of why he was following her, and a gust of wind blew it open slightly, whistling through the opening in an airy sad tune that circled through the lofty tower and set an unexpected chill in his bones. He shook it off though, dismissing the feeling for the cool on his skin and not the tune in his head, and proceeded, walking, curious, through the door and onto the roof. And he found her there, arms outstretched and staring straight out at the sunset, standing mere inches away from the edge.

Her back was to him, so he didn't think she'd heard him follow her out. He took care to close the door quietly behind him, turning the knob as he did to eliminate the clicking sound that would surely have given him away. That move turned out to be in vain however, for not ten seconds after he'd shut the door and turned to face her once again she spoke, her words passing her lips so rushed and quietly that he nearly missed them.

"It's beautiful isn't it? The sky?"

He froze, hand still hovering over the knob, cursing himself quietly for having closed the door already and making his escape that much more difficult. He wasn't sure what she was planning to do up here, but he knew he didn't want to be a part of it. If the girl wanted to scatter herself all over the hard, stone ground way below them then that was her business, not his, and he certainly did not want to stand around and listen to whatever sob story she was bound to tell before doing so. Besides, he was pretty sure her comment before wasn't really directed at him in particular, so he was still pretty confident he could get out without her noticing he'd been there at all. This is what he told himself as he turned to the door, opened it and took a step back into the dark. This was as far as he got before she spoke again, and this time her words were very obviously meant for him.

"I saw you, you know. Sitting on the window sill. You looked lonely. And I don't understand why such a lonely person would want to push everyone away like you do. Why do you push everyone away, Kanda-kun?"

He stiffened, hand curling and gripping the door frame unnecessarily hard. The sound of wood snapping cut through the air sharply. Lenalee went on as though she hadn't heard it.

"I think that you've been hurt. I dunno by what, but something bad must've happened to you, and for whatever reason, you think you can't trust anyone anymore. So," she swallowed, and then continued, "instead of reaching out to anyone, you kept it all hidden away, so you wouldn't have to get hurt again, right?"

His eyes widened for a brief second and he twisted again to stare at her, expression unfathomable. He didn't understand how this young girl was reading him the way she was, but he didn't like it. He hadn't come up here to discuss his past. That was something he was planning on not discussing with anyone. Ever.

He schooled his expression and raised an eyebrow. He was ending this conversation and going to bed. Right now.

"Think you know everything, huh?"

She didn't answer, just turned her head a bit and shot him a look. He frowned. She looked away, gazing back out at the sky, and began anew. He realized she hadn't been looking for his confirmation. Because she hadn't been talking about him. He closed the door.

"I love it up here. If you stand close enough to the edge, with the sun setting and the wind blowing, it almost feels like you're flying. There've been a few times when I thought about, you know, stepping off and…flying away. Because, sometimes, it gets too hard being all alone. And, and, sometimes it's hard remembering why I shouldn't-" she chokes out, her pretty face screwing up in a bitter sadness beyond her years.

"I just don't know how to- I don't have anything left. Not my parents, not my brother...they're dead, you know. My parents. I saw them get-! I saw, I SAW, I watched them get killed and then- and then-" She gulped and gasped, her tiny frame shaking violently from dry sobs.

"My brother, my older brother, i never saw him again, after it happened, i never saw him again, and I don't even know if he's alive or-!"

She swayed dangerously, and for a moment he thought the wind would pick her up and drop her. Instinct kicked in and he reached out and grabbed her hand. And she froze, looking back at him and staring, her eyes unfocused and full of tears that she can't seem to cry.

"How am i supposed to live through this? I DON'T HAVE ANYONE! HOW-?! How?! How...how am i supposed to-!"

He watched her, completely and utterly bewildered by the girl that he held in his hand. He didn't understand what she'd wanted. He didn't know what he could do for her. So he did the only thing he could do. He held on.

Hysterical, she began whimpering, the words coming out of her mouth unintelligible, save for one:

"How...how- HOW-?! how-?"

He doesn't know when he'd sat down but the next thing he knew he was at her feet, dangling his own over the edge. He picked up a loose bit of stone from the ledge and dropped it over. He wondered what would happen if he were to fall from this height, and twitched as an image of his broken body healing itself again flashed before his eyes. He began to breathe in slow, steady breaths through the mouth, and closed his eyes to the sky that that girl thought was so beautiful. There was nothing beautiful about the sky. Nothing at all.

After a moment he noticed that the her gasping had ceased, as had her whimpering. In fact, it seemed that she had stopped making noises completely. He looked up at her and realized with a jolt that her eyes were already on him, and, though she'd managed to calm herself down, she was crying. She squeezed his hand. He let go. She asked him again.

"How can i live through this?"

"...You just…have to find the strength to keep going."

He was looking at her properly now, blue eyes filled with something, an emotion he can't really explain properly to himself. It was big and sad and filled him with a pain that wasn't altogether his. He called it pity. Looking back it was probably empathy. But it didn't really matter what he was feeling. Because after months of not really feeling anything, it felt good to feel something, even if that something was caused by someone else. Someone that, for completely irrational reasons, he was suddenly very annoyed with.

"…tch. You're so stupid." Kanda ignored her barely audible squeak of shock, and continued dispassionately.

"Killing yourself would be going against what you want, right?

I mean, don't you want to see your brother again?"

She stared at him, mouth open slightly. He raised an eyebrow at her. Then she sat down next to him, hung her head and said, "…oh."

He sighed and flicked her forehead, hard. "Idiot, you can't just give up on in living if you still have something to live for!"

She scrambled away from him, clutching her forehead. She then settled about a foot away from him and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and smiling softly.

"But, what about you, Yu-kun? Don't you have something to live for?"

"Yeah…for me there's…something- I mean, someone …that I- Hey!"

He stopped abruptly, the realization of what he was telling her finally hitting him, and a red flush crept up his face as he spluttered, trying to take back what he'd already let slip.

"Why am I telling you anything!? I don't need to explain myself to you, I barely even know you!"

She giggled, putting her hand in front of her mouth to stifle the sound

The nerve of this girl! Asking him all those question and making him talk. Why was he explaining himself to her though? He didn't even understand it himself, but she just made him feel so…

She turned her head towards him, cheek resting on her knee, and beamed at him.

"Hehe, I didn't actually ask you to tell me anything like that. I just wondered whether you had something, not what it was."

He growled unintelligibly at her, which, unfortunately for him, only made her laugh at him more. Agitated, he shot back:

"Shut up, stupid. It doesn't matter if you didn't mean it, the point is that I'm not gonna tell you about it- OUCH! FUCKING CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

She had scooted forward and flicked him in the forehead, particularly harder than he had to her, in his opinion. Afterwards she had adopted a rather haughty expression that Kanda had learned to associate with people who were scolding him.

"I- I only did that because you were being insensitive!"

He glared at her wordlessly, thinking that he'd been PLENTY sensitive today, and that he knew the perfect place that she could shove her "sensitivity". And he was about to tell her so until her hand, that had until then, been hovering over his forehead, settled on the top of his head. And he sat, frozen that way, until she removed it and spoke again.

"Someday, we'll get out of here, ya?"

He raised an eyebrow at her "we", not sure how to take the inclusion, but responded nonetheless, his tone lifeless and monotone.

"Maybe YOU will…you have your brother out there, looking for you…you might even see him again…he might come for you…but me…no one's coming for me…"

.

Against the gray backdrop of the tank the test subject floated, unconscious once more, back arched and small hand outstretched to the ceiling. The men observing him outside it wondered idly what he was reaching out for.

The scientist made a small note on the report attached to his clipboard, then turned to the man that had just returned to the lab, expression neutral. The man standing behind him plucked the clipboard from his hands, bringing it closer to his face to read it in the dim lighting:

Subject is stable and has not yet reached its limit. Project to continue as planned.

Author's note: Wow, okay, so y'all can chew me out now eheh

All I have to say is that i have not abandoned this story, i just...needed a bit more time with this.