Hello, hello, hello. I invite you to bask in the main event for this evening. Chapter 10! Big, bright and tremendously... I don't know how to explain just how fucked up i think this is becoming. I swear I'm gettting issues from writing it. Lol, well anyway, I'm just glad that you all like it, and i can't believe i reached 100 reviews, i almost DIED! :D :D

Anyway, so as many of you asked for, i have given you most angst and what ever, following the whole level of the story. This doesn't really explain much, but you'll get it once you start reading it. Uh so, sorry for the delay in getting this too you, I am currently been New Zealand, which has been awesome, visiing all my cousins i haven't seen in years, all their babies, and then staying in the snow for four days, during which time we saw it snow, got crap loads of pictures and went skiing, a sport i found i have absolutely no skill in. Ahaha... -_-

So yeah, as a result I have been out of internet range, which has been killing me (oh god, you have no idea) but now i'm finally able to connect to the internet and read my 200+ emails and give this to you. so yea, my excuse for this time.

Anyway, just two little warnings; 1: I'm starting back at school in two days (a week late 'cause i missed a week of school to be in NZ YAY) and so updates may be slow for lack there-of but i will try my very hardest to keep them coming, i promise. And 2: this chapter really, well it's not for the faint of heart, i really didn't like writing it cause it made me sad. But here it is, PLEASE REVIEW any of your thoughts or criticisms etc. -the basic chebang- are all very very welcome.

lOVE YA ALL!,

Rimah xx

Disclaimer: The characters etc. don't belong to me, they belong to my favorite mangaka and story writer Ayano Yamane x

He gauged against the surface, his breath coming out in short gasps. Tears fell down his cheeks, the dirt smelt crisp, the earthy stench forcing his brain to shut down in fear. His whole body shook, his fingertips bled where the nails used to be, but he still continued to scratch at the solid mass of dirt slowly suffocating him to death. He screamed for help, but his wails fell against deaf ears.

The darkness encompassed everything, the shadow that seems to cover his eyes, thick and musky. He yelled, shrieked and cried out for help, shouting every known name on the planet that right be out there to help him. He felt the tears continuing to fall in torrents from his eyes when he realised there was no one, no one would help him, nobody would come to his aid. He was all alone, so terrifyingly alone deep beneath the earth, covered by a mass of dirt and worms. And still, even with his air slowly decreasing, his lung cavities seeming to concave, he still yelled for help, he still pounded against the dank earth. He still felt the scorching pain and heat in his fingers and arms, as he crawled again and again, over and over at the surface.

He was going to die. There, all alone, no body to hold him in their arms or cry over his death. No body to notice his disappearance. His job at work would be filed by another hopeless, helpless individual, his school would soon forget him and even his friends would eventually come to ease with his vanishing. His mother, she would never care, she would laugh, hope for his pained death, then sell his belongings, or would go to do so and then realise just how little he actually ever had. Nobody. There was nobody.

The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer, and only brought about another batch of hysteria. He felt sick, the air was dissipating at terrifyingly fast rate. But he only continued to scream, his brain not functioning properly enough to tell him just how important it was that he save the air. What a horrible, horrendous way to die, his brain was blatantly feeding him this message instead, over and over. And he was all alone. FUCK!

And he knew that, even as his scratching fingers and hands began to shake so much, they could no longer grab at the earth. Even as his heart began to lose its persistent rhythm, slowing drastically, his lungs began to malfunction as they burnt for air and his brain only registered the searing agony. Even as his tormented screams, stopped tearing through thick, damp crust of the earth, he never lost the notion. His loss for comfort, he lack of love. He would never see the world again, never sit another blatantly easy test again, never see Tokyo at night, never play Call of Duty- Black Ops II with Kou again.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his lungs burst alight one final time and his screams died on his lips, his face damp from the tear streaks. The pain so great, the loss however, was substantially greater.

…..

Takaba shot up in bed, just registering his piercing scream as it shot through the night air. The boy's heart was racing a million beats a second, his body was wrapped in a thick coat of sweat, frozen where he sat, in terror. Trying not to hyperventilate, he felt as the tears streamed down his heated cheeks, and his sobbing took over all other sounds in the room. His muscles were tense, his fingers and toes scrunched tight, his small figure shaking uncontrollably as he attempted to remind himself that it was only a dream.

Slowly, his heavy eye lids opened, as he still continued to sob desperately, feeling more alone and depressed than ever. He took in the strange surroundings and stopped all movements, immediately reassuring himself of two things. One; that his was in fact not dead or dying in the least, and two; that he was most definitely not alone.

Letting out a screech, he jumped into the air and, not realising still where he was, fell off the side of the bed, his back coming into contact with the hard floor. A sharp burst of pain shot up his spine and he yelped. By this time, he was in hysterics, thinking he was back in his past, in a rapist's home, or one of the torturers basements he had frequented. As a result, he was completely unaware of who the presence in the room belonged too, due to the not so uncommon temporary amnesia that occurred after his more serious nightmares. He covered him mouth desperately with his hand, not wanting to wake the possible threat formerly beside him on the strange bed. He dashed up to his feet and rushed off toward the place he believed the door to be.

Only momentarily hindered by the strangeness of the door being not even slightly locked, he cast the thought aside in his frenzy and threw it open, rushing outside without looking back. Needing air desperately, he tried to take a deep breath but found it impossible. All his eyes saw were the perfect furnishings of the interior of some huge unknown living room to him. He looked desperately around, trying to find the door, or anyway to get outside and breathe in a deep breath then go and drown his sorrows in anything he could find.

Feeling sick, he dashed off toward a door that looked different to any of the others in the room. He saw his vision start to swim, everything looked swirly and oddly coloured, and his airways felt overly constricted. When he reached the door, he was shaking too much to even open it; his palms were sweaty, his eyes swam with tears and his breathing was jagged and rough.

He heard footsteps behind him but couldn't even turn his face around to meet the impending intruder. He felt crushed from all sides, much like being back inside the whole underground, and this was no soothing thought.

"Takaba" the voice was deep and warped, it sounded drunk and uncanny. Takaba couldn't even register that the name being called belonged to him. Instead, he felt his legs crumble from beneath his body, as his low whine filled the room and tweaked Asami's heart.

"Help me" He whimpered, as he curled into a ball on the ground, his breathing no less constricted, his body no less shaky. But none-the-less, he felt safe in that position for it had saved him numerous times. "Please" He breathed out between sobs, "Please don't hurt me". And with that Takaba passed out; his body grew silent and still, his whimpers and sobs subsided and his tears slowed on his wet cheeks.

He had never even registered the voice calling to the men on the other side of the entrance, or said men pushing the door open at their bosses command. He never saw their relief at being able to come inside and help with the situation that they had clearly heard from just outside. Nor did he register it as the needle was hastily injected into his blood stream at one man's hasty command.

….

Never before in his life had Asami been woken to such a horrendous sight. He had heard shuffling in the bed beside him, and a few silent moans coming from the boy he had watched go off to sleep only half an hour before. Out of an automated response, he instantly flicked on the light switch conveniently placed on the wall, before grabbing for his gun on the bedside table, holding it in two hands as he turned instantly to appraise the room and the boy beside him on the bed.

But it soon became apparent that the situation in the room had nothing to do with what was going on in the physical world. The man dropped the gun and stared instead at the boy, a curious look crossing his features.

The boy's face was white as the sheets that were bundled at his feet; he was breathing erratically and shaking slightly as though deep in a dream. At first, Asami was led to think that he was having one of 'those' dreams and instantly smirked, just about ready to wake the boy up and turn his fanaticise to life when the boy strangely erupted into the fit of tears.

Shocked and completely unsuspecting, Asami watched with wide eyes as the boys limbs tensed and he began scraping his fingertips against the sheets, the rest of his body shaking violently in subliminal terror. His sobs began to fill the room, so filled with terror and angst that Asami felt chills down his spine, then the boy let out a deafening scream. He began thrashing, tears flowing down his cheeks, his fingers and toes continuing to scrape at the sheets, making a terrible noise that mingled with his cries.

After minutes of this, the boy's thrashing suddenly stopped dead; though his nails never stopped as they gauged at the sheets, as, out of nowhere, he let out a choked wail that seemed to draw the temperature down about 30 degrees in the room. But this stillness didn't last long, and soon the boy was thrashing around again, his hands turned to fists and his wails turned to tortured screams.

Asami watched, bemused, as the young boy's desperate thrashing and screams turned to gasps as his hands came up his body to pull at scratch at his chest, as though gouging out his heart. With his eyes twitching erratically behind closed lids, the hands dragged upwards, leaving red welts as the mails dug into his skin. The fingers moved to enclose around his own neck, his tears only increasing, his gasps becoming nasty gurgles as deep sobs erupted from his chest.

Asami could clearly see the pain he was going through in him own mind, as though he were torturing himself. He was not a happy kid, the sorrow in his eyes was always evident, even when he was awake. But during his dreams, he was at a whole new level of grief, it made Asami feel something he had never experienced in his life. Even with his own slightly inappropriate ideas surrounding justice, it was clear this kid was so fucked up he couldn't even get a rest in his sleep. Asami couldn't explain it, but he simply couldn't possibly let this boy continue to live like this. He would help this boy, no matter the cost.

Right at that moment, Takaba stopped dead, still very much within the grasp of his dreams. For a moment, Asami was lead to believe that the boy had actually died, so carried away that his own heart had stopped and he had died in his sleep. But the boy shot up, eyes opening and mouth following through as he let out a terrible scream, sending a new batch of chills down the watching man's spine. From then on, it was just a pitying show of a terrified and confused youth, waking up from a night mare that would send any person insane, in an unknown home. The boy looked around, still gasping for air, eyes blank and uncomprehending. Then they came to rest on Asami's face, large hazel eyes staring straight at him, without even blinking. Then, as though finally coming to realisation, the boy let out a yelp and toppled off the bed. Asami heard a heavy thud, followed by a gasp and then he watched as the boy bolted off toward the door, pulling at the knob and then running out, only wearing his boxes. Asami stepped off the bed, following close behind the boy, a slightly perplexed look crossing his usually pristine features.

Akihito headed straight for the front door, Asami could hear his loud sobs and could see the boy's shaking limbs as the older man came up behind him. It was then the boy finally realised his presence, his shoulder twitching to show he heard the approach.

"Takaba," Asami called out to the boy, speaking evenly in an attempt to reassure the boy. However, when instead Takaba only shook even more, his legs slowly giving out as he collapsed toward the floor, Asami quickly called to the guards he knew would be stationed outside the door. They were fully equipped, and would have just the thing to calm this boy down. The two men rushed inside, their eyes beholding the view of the now furiously shaking boy on the ground with utter confusion. Immediately, Asami instructed them to give him a light sedative, which they applied immediately without asking questions. It didn't take longer than thirty seconds for the boy to calm, his body collapsing against the floor with a huff, exhausted and spent. But not before he murmured something that shook all three men to the core, though none of them would ever admit it. But it produced a question; Just what was to be said for the life of this young, seemingly normal on the outside, teenage boy?

All three men exchanged a hidden look, before the two lackeys headed back outside after confirming that their boss was fine. Inside, Asami appraised the boy on the ground. He refused to delve into his own thoughts on the situation long enough to assess the deep pain he felt in his chest before he picked up said kid and walked him back to the bedroom. His confusion was not doing him well. Especially when he knew very well that if he wanted to live in the world he lived and currently thrived in, such weakness would need to be eliminated. 'Food for thought,' he told himself, as the emotions curdling his facial features, slowly thinned until they were no longer visible through his practiced mask of indifference.

Hmm yes so there it is, my very fucked up chapter ten. I hope you liked it, and PLEASE REVIEW! Anything is better than nothing!

Love you all, and I'll try to give you the next chap asap!

Rimah xx