Sorry it took so long for me to get back on here. I've been so busy lately that I've had no time for writing, or anything leisurely, for that matter. Hope I didn't have you sweating too badly.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Like a Light Switch

It had become a pattern of sorts, she noted, whenever he was cooking. She would stand behind him and watch him work, and her curiosity would get the best of her. She would ask him something about his past… and he would answer. Maki didn't know if he was most comfortable in the kitchen, or if it was merely coincidence, but she wasn't about to change their little routine. It was… nice… listening him talk about his life, almost as though hearing him share his secrets eased some of the weight of her own.

Today, however, it was different. He needed no prompting, turning to face her as soon as he was done prepping the food. Arms crossing he settled his dark, determined gaze on her, lips parting in a deep intake before he spoke.

"I was thirteen years old when my mother died."

Maki froze, nearly choking on her own breath at the sudden, unexpectedly stark utterance. Her chest constricted, newly healing emotional wounds threatening to tear open again as it registered – his words hitting so very close to home.

Julietta saw her struggle, but did not stop. He needed to tell her this, needed her to know.

"She was flying home because I insisted on seeing her for the holidays. Her plane never made it back. Few survived, and she was not among those who did."

Pushing his disheveled hair out of his face, he continued. "I had spent so little time with her over the course of my life… but it still hurt. She was my mother, and even if I had wanted to hate her for never being there… I couldn't. She was gone, and I'd never felt so lost."

A short, derisive huff slid past his lips. "My father took it especially hard. I'd never seen him share an intimate moment with my mother – not a kiss, nor an embrace, but when she died… he changed. Before he'd done little more than ignore me, but once she was gone he openly despised me. He never said anything, of course, but I could see it in the way he looked at me. The way his eyes would darken, the way his hands would tremble… like he wanted to strangle the life from me for taking her away from him. It went on that way for many years, but he never once said anything to me."

Maki's hands tightened into white-knuckled fists, shuddering as she tried to keep a torrent of emotion in check.

"When he was home he would lock himself away in his office, along with whatever liquor he could get his hands on. I would go months without catching a glimpse of him. Four years after her death, I came home from school to find him passed out in the library. He reeked of scotch, and looked as though he hadn't washed in days. The smell was awful."

A look of distaste danced over his features as he recalled it.

"I turned to leave, but then I noticed a book in his lap. Curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to know what could have drawn him out of his office and into a common area after so many years of avoidance and isolation. So I approached him slowly, careful not to make a sound. When I stood directly at his side I peered down into the pages, shocked by what I found. It was an album… their wedding album."

His fingers twitched absently along his arm, his expression serene for a moment.

"My mother… she looked so beautiful. Against my better judgement, I took the book from his lap and seated myself, transfixed as I scanned the pages. They looked… happy together, like they were in love. I'd never seen them look at one another like that."

His body stiffened then, as though bracing for a blow. "That was how my father found me when he woke. He shouted at me, telling me I had no right to touch it, demanding I give it back. He said that this was all he had left of her – that he wouldn't let me take that from him too.

"I tried to apologise, but he didn't care. He was drunk and angry, and I'd seen him at his most vulnerable. He hated that more than anything else, I think. He pushed me away as he took the album from me, telling me it was my fault. 'You killed her,' he told me. 'I wish you'd never been born.' Then he hit me. I cried out as I fell, and he came after me, hitting me over and over while I begged him to stop. He didn't stop, and I knew he wasn't going to. He was going to kill me."

Maki felt bile rise in her throat, a dark hatred for this man she did not know bubbling to life deep inside of her.

"Anita heard the commotion. She tried to pull my father off of me, but he pushed her aside. When she tried again… he struck her."

The tall redhead sucked in a shaky breath, noting how his eyes narrowed as he hissed out those final few words.

"He began to yell at her, telling her that she had no right to interfere, no right to defend the monster that had murdered his wife. He promised to hit her again if she tried to stop him from giving me what I deserved."

Julietta stopped, his dark gaze suddenly focused very intently on Maki. She didn't start, didn't turn away, she stared right back at him, waiting.

"When I heard him threaten her, everything came rushing back to me all at once - every bit of sadness, and anger, and fear, and loneliness that I'd endured since my childhood. It struck me harder than any of his blows had, and it was like a dam burst inside of me. Like… someone had flicked a switch, and I couldn't turn it off, couldn't control myself. Before I knew what was happening I was standing again. I had him by the shirt collar. I hit him. I wanted to hurt him so badly, wanted to expel all of my pain and fury. When I finally finished my knuckles were bloody and bruised, but I could hardly feel them. All I could feel was this strange sort of excitement, not a sliver of remorse creeping in as I watched him slump to the floor, barely breathing. He didn't get up."

"Was he… dead?"

"No," Sakamoto responded, his tone suggesting that he wished otherwise. "Merely a coma, along with a broken nose, a crushed orbital socket, and a mouth full of shattered teeth. He woke two months after the incident, from what I heard, though I never really cared to find out much more."

"And Anita?" she wondered aloud.

He frowned. "I'm sad to say I don't know. We both moved out shortly after, and I haven't seen or spoken to her since."

Julietta pushed himself from the counter, reaching out slowly to take one of her fisted hands into his. He brushed his thumb against her knuckles in a tender caress, slowly coaxing her to relax. She didn't stop him.

"Most people would think me a monster for enjoying it, but not you. You understand. In that moment… I was free. To this day I do not regret it, because it made me feel truly alive, more than I'd ever felt before. Even now, years later, it is no different. Fighting is among the only thing that makes me feel alive. In this tedious world full of faceless, meaningless people the thrill of a good fight – the chance to express my sorrow and anger in a way that no words could possibly describe – it is one of the few things that brings me reprieve. That… and being near you."

She blushed, but didn't pull away.

"You understand… because you are the same. We both foster an unfathomable sorrow, so profound that most people will never know its depths. Neither one of us is at fault for the pains we have experienced, but now we must live with an endless anger – at the world and the people in it, at ourselves."

He stepped even closer, so close that their chests were nearly touching. She breathed deeply in nervousness, though there was no fear of him… not anymore.

"The violence… it purges the pain. It's like a drug, and I just can't help myself, can't stop myself once the feeling is awakened. I tend to end up hurting the people that try to get close to me… because they don't understand, they try to pry, and they delve too deeply. It opens old wounds and ignites the flame. For so long it kept me from getting close to anyone, but then you came along…"

He surprised her then by stepping back, releasing her hand as he did.

"You are the same, Maki. I see the uncertainty in your eyes when your friends are near. I don't want you to live as I have. I want to help you. There is still a chance for you; you simply don't know it yet."

He turned then, continuing on with his cooking.

Maki didn't speak, not knowing what to say. He was right… again. She was mad at the world and at herself, and she was afraid to let anyone in. His pain was her pain, and he'd been there all this time… she'd simply been too blind to see.

'Well, he does come on a bit strong,' she reminded herself with a half-smile. 'Maybe if he'd been sensible enough to tell me all of this before he tried to get me in bed, things would have turned out differently.'

She laughed, the sound so soft it was more of a huff. Arms crossing over her chest, she took up watching him again, content to observe him in contemplative silence.

Perhaps one of these days she would tell him about her past, but not yet, no… she wasn't ready just yet.

What did we think?