A/N: Okay. So...I've been going through some of my work (old and current) and have noticed that there are still some common errors that I make. But as the great Jackie Chan does all his own stunts, so do I perform all my own editing. I'm just that badass (and have yet to doop some poor sap into becoming my editor). Needless to say, having done this exercise, I have developed an even deeper appreciation and form of humility towards your constant, loving support. Thank you. All of you. Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, and followed this (and many others) story.

And as a side note, I would like to dedicate this particular chapter to SweetLiars who, despite my violent dislike of Kyo, continues to be a constant companion to me and this story. Thank you, my friend. This chapter is for you. Kyo included...free of charge.

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'Hit it, never quit it

I have been through the wreck'

His heart beat so furiously in his chest. He could hear it. His heartbeat. It sounded like a panicked animal caged inside of his chest, trying desperately to get out. To escape this impending sense of dread and danger. It sounded like blood. And death. And terrified horror.

...it sounded like...

...sounded...like...

Fear.

He was afraid. For his safety. For his life. His breath came so heavy and ragged from his lungs. And it sounded so muffled and close to his head. As if something had been placed over his ears, simultaneously muffling the sounds around him while causing his own breathing to become so very loud in his own ears.

The muscles of his throat and chest clenched and tightened, dangerously compromising his breathing. And he wanted to run. No. He needed to run. He knew it. And as if to confirm this flight response, another sound all together began to manifest.

And...he knew what that sound was.

It started lowly, at first. Low, and muffled, in a smothered moaned whimper. And he felt his breath hitch towards the sound and become even more labored as his heart now slammed itself against the very confines of his chest. Praying to God in heaven to save him, he knew what that sound was.

It was the sound of a man...

...dying...

As it built upon itself in volume and intensity, he knew that he needed to run away. Before it happened. He needed to get away. But his body was so helplessly paralyzed and held in place. By something... Or someone... And that ghastly smothered sound grew into a scream. A terrifying, agonized, bloodcurdling scream. The scream a soul made when being ripped and severed from the body.

'...Kyo...'

The sound of his name came close to his ears. In a whisper. But it did nothing to pull him away from this terror. And that incessant, unrelenting shrieking.

He felt the warmth of damp wetness along his skin as tears began to trail their way down his cheeks. He knew that he crying, but he was so helpless to stop it. To stop the tears. The trembling of his body. And that scream.

'...Kyo..?'

More than anything, he wanted the screaming to end. But in wanting the sound to cease, he knew he was simultaneously wishing for the man's death. Because...he knew...that only in the man's death would that terrifying sound end.

But he wanted it to end.

All of it.

He wanted an end.

Willing his body into motion, he desperately tried for an escape. To obey every fiber of his being that was screaming at him to flee. To tear himself away from this horrifying sound. But as he attempted to move his paralyzed body, he felt his shoulders suddenly grasped by hands that seemed to come from nowhere. Holding him in place as his body violently struggled against the unknown.

"Kyo!"

Eye's violently flew open and Kyo's muscular torso flexed, retching and jerking itself from the bed as a frightened gasp pulled itself into his lungs. His muscles trembled and quivered, his skin puckering against the sudden cool sensation along his damp flesh from the sweaty sheen that covered him. Drawing labored breath into his lungs, Kyo attempted to settle himself within the dark silence of his bedroom as he curled into himself, hanging his head between his knees.

And again...a hand tentatively reached out for him as fingertips made tender contact along the cool flesh of his bare back.

"...Kyo..?" His name came uttered softly in trepidation.

"Hitomi." He managed through a breathless sigh along the darkness as the tiny hand of his girlfriend sought out his larger one in the bed.

"You were screaming in your sleep." She whispered to him as her hand gently squeezed his in comfort.

That certainly explained the sensation of searing fire lining his raw, dry throat.

"Are you okay?" This question came murmured lightly as Kyo gave himself over to another small, cleansing sigh through his nose.

"Yeah," He cleared his throat, finding his words. "I'm fine. It was just a bad dream."

"Want to talk about it?"

Memories of the dream fueled by what he had witnessed in the prison rushed through Kyo's mind as he gave the light shake of his head to this question.

"No." His voice came low and soft as he squeezed the hand that had sought him out in the darkness. "Not really." He admitted this before letting go of his girlfriend's hand to distance himself.

There was no reason to burden her with this darkness. He could handle this alone.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." He murmured this as his fingers ran through slightly dampened bed head.

"It's okay." The soft tenor of his girlfriend came filled with tenderness and a level of concerned worry. "I had to get up for work anyway." And with this Kyo gave a silent nod as he slowly slipped his form from the warmth of their bed.

"I'm going for a shower." He said as he made his way to the bathroom, not wanting to risk falling back to sleep.

...not wanting to risk having another nightmare...

"Please don't do this, Kyo..." This came a soft whisper that halted his steps to the bathroom as he hung his head, not wanting to turn around and see the expression along her face as she stared at his back.

"Do what, Hitomi?" He asked, his voice low in the quiet of their room.

"Distance yourself from me." She whispered again, and just at the sound of her voice he could tell the expression of pain and hurt etched along her attractive features. "Whatever it is you're going through." Hitomi's voice floated to his ears, laced in worry and desperation. "You don't have to go through it alone." These words held such fragility. "Let me in, Kyo." She implored. "Please don't distance yourself and shut me out."

Kyo gave himself over to another small sigh as he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

"Really, it's nothing." He murmured in an attempt to sooth the woman he loved and cared about.

Cared about...and didn't want to hurt.

Loved...and would do anything in order to protect against the very real evil and ugliness of this world. Even if that meant protecting her from himself.

"It was just a bad dream, is all." He worked to make his voice as calm and nonchalant as possible as he continued on his way to the bathroom in silence.

Running the shower as hot as he could stand, Kyo hung his head to allow the water to run down his back and ease his thoughts. Wash away these violent memories that plagued his mind and haunted his dreams as of late. That left him feeling so very weak and powerless.

He had witnessed a man murdered right in front of him...and had been completely helpless. And that feeling of complete and utter powerlessness had been slowly eating away at him for weeks now. It had been a little over a month, and he still couldn't bring himself to return to the prison to see his client. Of course, he had kept himself preoccupied with the case. But whenever the thought of going to speak with Sohma Yuki about the progress he had made crossed Kyo's mind, he always seemed to find another lead to busy himself with.

Hearing the unobtrusive sounds of his girlfriend entering the bathroom, Kyo simply squeezed his eyes shut, facing the water as it washed over his face like cleansing rain. Soft, quiet rustling came just barely above the water before he heard the light swish of the shower door being slid open, then shut. Soft fingertips gently caressed themselves down along the wet flesh of his spine in an intimately familiar touch. And his head hung just a bit lower as his brows knit together under the emotions that washed over him. Turning towards the source of contact, Kyo's gaze fell into a deep ocean of warm brown.

Hitomi tentatively reached out, the tips of her fingers stretched as they made gentle contact, tracing the lines of Kyo's face as they trailed the length of his jawline. That touch was all it took, and Kyo gently tugged her wrist, wrapping his toned, masculine arms around her thin, crème frame as he pulled her naked body closer to his own. Coaxing a small giggle from her enticing lips, he carefully and quite effortlessly lifted her to maneuvered her underneath the torrential downpour of the shower. As her slender fingers caressed the nape of his neck, His own fingers gently ran themselves through her soaked hair as his lips met hers in equal parts affectionate adoration and needy desperation. And without question or even a moments hesitation, she responded in kind with a desperate hunger as her lips parted to deepen the kiss and allow his tongue entrance into her mouth.

The rest of the morning was spent in a fragile silence as the two sat at the small coffee table of their even smaller eat in kitchen. They wordlessly shared a modest breakfast of coffee and wheat toast before Hitomi left the apartment for work...both unwilling to admit the danger of having left the problematic events of this morning unaddressed in lieu of making love instead.

...and nothing more was said of Kyo's nightmare or his reluctance to speak of how it weighed heavy on his mind.

Wandering the apartment in silence, clothed in a pair of basic gray sweat pants and one of his old University tee shirts, Kyo set about readying himself to work from home. Though a rare occurrence, Kyo found the flexibility of being able to work anywhere he needed to be useful. Grasping the pack of cigarettes from the small kitchen counter, Kyo found himself lifting the whole pack to his mouth as he fished one out with his lips. Hitomo disliked that he smoked in their apartment, so he made it a point to do this rarely. Out of respect for her wishes. But with the instant cathartic rush of nicotine that flooded his system as he lit the cigarette, Kyo knew that this vice would be sorely needed to sharpen his focus for this morning's endeavors.

Setting the pack of cigarettes back where he had found them, the one he had claimed dangling from his lips, Kyo gathered the stack of files from the counter next to the pack as he moved through the small kitchen back to the table where his latest cup of coffee waited for him. Spreading the manila files along the small coffee table, Kyo plucked the cigarette from his lips, a breathless sigh of smoke passing through his nose as he settled himself with reviewing the latest information that had been released to him from the prosecution. Though the law entitled him to any and all information that the woman possessed on this case, Kyo found that obtaining each and every piece of evidence and shred of information from the prosecutor had been like pulling teeth.

Nothing about this process had been simple or straight forward.

The prosecutor.

The defender.

The family.

Or even his own client, for that matter.

Somehow, he actually understood the opposition from the prosecutor. He was, after all, attempting to systematically disassemble and break apart her case.

...but...the lack of involvement or cooperation from his client's previous defender was still unsettling to Kyo.

Surely Akiyama-san and the head of Sohma Company understood that exonerating Sohma Yuki from such a heinous crime would relieve some of the scandal still blackening the company and family name. The more he continued to question this, the less this seemed to make sense. And the more it bothered him.

Sifting through the latest information the prosecutor had provided to him, Kyo took another drag of his cigarette before placing it to rest in the ashtray on the table as fingertips grasped the quickly cooling coffee next to him. He read through the reports...now years old...filed against his client during the time period when the man had been briefly detained in America before being extradited to his native country for public trial. And the information provided in these reports was minimal at best. But with these reports came the same, graphic photographs of the crime scene. Though Kyo had seen these and similar pictures before during this appeals process, the horrific sight still made his stomach churn.

...and he found that he simply couldn't fathom the type of monster able to commit this kind of gruesomely barbaric atrocity...

But this information gave him a fresh focus...and yet another reason to avoid and postpone another trip to the prison. All he needed was a little more time.

...a little more time to sift through the evidence in order to find some sort of proof of his client's guiltless innocence...

…just a little more time...to settle himself and make sense of what he had experienced the last time he had seen the Ice Prince. Because...despite the endless lies he had continued to feed himself over the previous weeks...Kyo knew he still wasn't quite ready to return to the prison.

...not yet...

Flipping through the reports Kyo found that there wasn't much there that he hadn't already been made privy of. Which wad disappointing, to say the least. Picking up what was left of his dwindling cigarette Kyo took a drag of much needed nicotine before a contemplative sigh passed through his nose. Perhaps...if he went directly to the source...he might find what he was searching for.

Something...

...anything...

In a decisive move, he stood from the small coffee table of his kitchen as he went to retrieve his phone. Grasping the cellular device, Kyo made his way back to the endless supply of legal documents spread along his coffee table. Cigarette gracefully dangling from his lips, Kyo proceeded to dial the long distance number of the local precinct that had acted as first responder in this case. As the phone rang, he plucked the dwindling cigarette from his lips as a curl of smoke made its way past his lips. His eyes glued to the papers before him as a crackled voice came through the other end of the line.

'NYPD. How may I direct your call?'

Kyo quickly scanned the documents before him as he searched for a name to give to the disembodied voice.

"Officer Michael Fitzpatrick." His own voice fell so strangely monotonous in a heavy, thick Japanese accent through the phone as the other line gave pause to transfer him.

'Detective Fitzpatrick.' This came through the receiver as Kyo faltered a moment over the foreign language and unexpected change in title.

"Michael Fitzpatrick?" He questioned, sifting through the name provided on all of the police reports...now years old.

...perhaps the names and information were just as outdated...

'Yes. This is Detective Michael Fitzpatrick.' The deep, crackled disembodied voice confirmed as Kyo worked to absorb this language. 'Who is this?'

Taking pause to mentally translate and respond to the question, Kyo cleared his throat before regaining a more professional tone.

"I am the legal representative of Sohma Yuki." Kyo introduced himself, his English coming rudimentary, yet formal. "I sent a request of information to your office, and I have questions about the the Sohma-Honda murder case." His eyes continued to sift through the various reports as he took another drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out in a funeral of smoke and ash. "You were the lead investigator in that case, yes?"

A moment of silence briefly fell along the moment before it was claimed by a soft, crackled sigh from the other end of the line.

'...yeah... I was.' This came almost reluctantly in confirmation. 'What exactly is it that I can help you with, counselor?' The question seemed less than amiable, but Kyo quickly brushed off this subtle hostility in favor of conducting business and gathering some much needed answers.

"In your report, you seem quite adamant that this was foul play." Kyo spoke, but before he could continue, the disembodied voice cut him off.

'You saw the crime scene photos, right?' The detective questioned coldly as Kyo furrowed his brows to the case notes.

"Hai." Kyo's words momentarily slipped into his native tongue. "...I did..."

'And you don't think it was foul play?' The disembodied voice quipped bitterly at being questioned as Kyo's scowl deepened.

...had he been allowed to finish his thoughts...

"But you never explored potential suspects other than my client?"

'There weren't any.'

"I'm reading your report, detective." Kyo's voice came professional, but stern in reproach to this statement. "You never looked."

'The case was clear cut.' Detective Fitzpatrick countered defensively through the other line. 'The bastard had his wife's blood all over him. And there was no one else there.' The disembodied voice continued in self defense. 'All the evidence pointed to him.'

Before Kyo had the opportunity to counter with the lack of a murder weapon and circumstantial nature of the evidence against his client, the disembodied voice continued.

'...besides...' This came along a breathless, crackled sigh. 'When your government filed for jurisdiction and took over the case there wasn't any further investigation that I could do.' The man seemed almost irritated over this, and Kyo began to sense that some of the detective's hostility towards him was territorially driven. 'The case was quite literally taken out of my hands.'

Kyo took another moment to absorb this latest information, shuffling the documents in hand as he calculated his next course of action. His next line of questioning.

"So..." He murmured into the receiver. "You were the first to arrive to the scene?" Kyo asked in order to confirm the information before him and gain some clarity.

'Yeah...I was.' The voice came gruff and crackled.

"And you responded to a complaint from the room next door to the crime scene?" He queried, thoughts spinning as he pieced this puzzle together.

'That's what my report says...' The disembodied voice confirmed in mild irritation. 'Shouldn't you already have all of this?' Detective Fitzpatrick questioned through the other end of the line. 'My office already sent my report to the prosecution.' He stated this fact bluntly. 'Miss Kagawa should have gotten all of this information years ago.'

"I'm not with the prosecution..." Kyo retorted flatly.

'Don't tell me you're actually planning to defend this bastard.' This came harshly snapped through the receiver.

"Gomen." Kyo uttered a bit sarcastically in mock apology. "Privileged information, detective." A smirk laced his lips as he heard a crackled sigh from the other end of the line before he continued with his questioning. "So when you arrived, you were able to question this witness who called your department?" He asked, having been unable to verify and confirm whether the police department had actually been able to contact the initial witness from the scant documents he had been provided with from the prosecution.

'Actually...' The disembodied voice came almost apprehensive over the receiver. '...no...' Detective Fitzpatrick muttered with a level of chagrin. 'When we arrived to the scene and apprehended the culprit, I went to the surrounding rooms and they were all vacant.' He admitted.

"You couldn't locate them?" Kyo asked in genuine bafflement, his brows furrowing as he listened to the voice on the other line.

'No.' The detective confirmed coolly. 'They were adamant about remaining anonymous when they called in to report the disturbance. From the statement they gave, it sounds like the argument became pretty heated.' This came lowly muttered in consideration as the disembodied voice continued. 'I imagine when we arrived they didn't want to become further involved in the situation and stick around for questioning.'

"Were you able to get a phone number?" Kyo asked, his mind wildly turning and spinning with further questions.

'Of course.' This came a bit derogatory and snide, as if the man had felt insulted by this question.

"Then I'm going to need that to follow up with questioning." Kyo murmured professionally as he quickly grasped a pen in preparation for jotting down this latest information as the detective gave the number.

And Kyo's brows arced in surprise at the strange familiarity as he quickly made notes of the digits provided by Detective Fitzpatrick.

'But I wouldn't bother with following up, though.' This cautionary suggestion came through the crackled hiss of the receiver.

"Why is that, detective?" Kyo asked dubiously, making a mental note to disregard this suggestion and call the number anyway.

'Because...' This came lowly muttered through the other end of the line. '...when I called that number to ask the witness to come in for questioning, it had been disconnected.' The detective spoke matter-of-factly. 'It's a dead end, counselor.'

But as Kyo thanked the detective for his time and concluded the phone call, his mind reeled against this latest lead. Because in this disconnected number, Kyo sensed he had just found his smoking gun.