To the Darkest of Nights We Go

~Dystopian AU ~

Chapter 21

Written By: RinoaDestiny

King of Fighters, Chizuru Kagura, Kyo Kusanagi, Iori Yagami, Terry Bogard, Andy Bogard, Mai Shiranui, Blue Mary, Rock Howard, and Joe Higashi all belong to SNK

Iori's fingers needed some additional lancing – Kyo paused whenever the other man winced – applying the razor blade with as much delicacy he could manage. It was easier the second time around and without Yagami screaming or moaning, it sickened him less, allowed him to focus, and thus completed that aspect of treatment faster. Still, he had to disinfect the wounds and wrap each individual fingertip, so he wasn't done yet.

All the while, Yagami watched the process without a word, face neutral. Kyo wished he knew what the other was thinking but Iori hadn't let anything slip since he'd awoken an hour ago, expression blank. The MP3 player was at his side now, always kept close, and the ration bar still hadn't been eaten. Kyo didn't know if Yagami just wasn't hungry or if he thought it was for them both. If it was the latter, giving it to Yagami directly would be the best way to get his point across: This is yours. Don't worry about me.

He was on Yagami's right hand, finishing up on the second-to-last finger when the other man tensed. He looked up, saw Iori's face and glanced down at his arm where the other's gaze fell. Thin scars stood out clear and white on his tanned forearm; he'd forgotten about them, since they'd healed nicely. But there was a question in the other man's face – the eyes no longer empty – and he waited for Iori to ask, which he did.

"What happened?"

Only one way to answer that. "Shermie happened."

It wasn't possible for the other man to turn paler but he did. "Was there…"

"You were right, Yagami. O.R.O.C.H.I. sent two generals to our door. Ripped it out, more like. Nanakase was there, too."

"What? When?"

"After your communications broke. They dropped by immediately afterwards. They took out the power first, of course."

"Motherfucking…"

"Kagura-san and I fought. It was a close thing, Yagami. They almost had us down there."

Iori made an indecipherable sound.

"Yagami…" Kyo knotted the makeshift bandage, completing his task on Iori's ring finger but didn't start on the last one. The bones in the other's hand were white, drawn close to the surface of bruised skin and the tension from Iori radiated throughout his body down to his hands. Kyo was aware of the sudden spike in anxiety, for Iori's fingers had curled into his palm, tight and close. All except the right pinky finger, which he still held. "What happened…after?"

The other man made a broken sound that wasn't quite laughter.

"Shermie told us Goenitz found you."

Still nothing.

"Yagami…if it's too much, you don't have to." It wasn't as if he told people about his ordeal with NESTS. He was fortunate people didn't ask besides the usual "How are you?" and "You doing okay?" Those were easily answered – a pat response usually sufficed and most of his friends and family didn't dig too deep. However, if anyone had asked for details, then Kyo would've found himself unable to answer, as though his jaw was wired shut. Details meant remembering and remembering meant flashbacks and flashbacks meant a possible panic attack, because he just wanted to forget. Having been there, he wasn't about to press Yagami, unless Yagami wanted to talk, in which case he was all ears.

Yagami had initiated this conversation. He was going to let him carry it.

Kyo, for his part, would just listen. Unless Yagami asked, he wasn't going to take it very far. He wasn't sure about his former rival's breaking point and only the other man knew to what extent he'd allow the conversation to delve into. Having lost his ability – temporarily, Kyo hoped – to read Iori, he couldn't make any assumptions. Like this lingering silence, for instance.

Or that broken half-laugh. What was that about?

It was a complete change in plans from what he'd thought up earlier. He tossed those questions to the wayside, decided that the best way to help Yagami from hereon was just to be here. Be here and shut up, because the last thing Yagami needed was for him to ask and prod and push and push until the other either lost his mind, lost his temper, or lost any drive for living. The other man had broken the door earlier, had decided to stay here and all without providing a reason. He'd gone along with it because Yagami liked it here and that, for now, was all that mattered.

He moved onto the redhead's pinky finger, bringing a length of cloth towards it.

Then, Iori spoke.

"Those motherfucking tornadoes…those…"

Kyo forced himself to relax, to continue wrapping Iori's finger. He kept his mouth shut.

"Kept throwing them at me. Couldn't…fuck."

He remembered those tornadoes. Goenitz's specialty. He also liked taunting them while issuing them, asking them if they knew where it was. Only he didn't say it like that and after enough times, Kyo had been ready to murder the man himself. He recalled the city hall – the tall ceilings, the strewn rubble and glass, the vastness of the space – realizing that the O.R.O.C.H.I. wind general had ample room to maneuver, to attack. While Iori, limited by his fighting style to get in close in order to strike, was at a significant disadvantage.

Yagami's finger tensed; the tip curling in his grasp.

Kyo stopped.

"The motherfucking…the motherfucking PMCs…"

Besides the fact that Yagami hadn't even called him Kusanagi and dropped the same curse word repeatedly, this was the first time he'd mentioned the private military companies. The soldiers. Did that mean his conjecture was correct? That they had been there when Goenitz ambushed him?

He wanted to ask. Kyo refrained.

"Fucking PMCs…those…fuck…"

Second time now. Kyo tensed and tried to loosen his muscles. If he got anxious, Yagami would feel it, since he wasn't done with his finger yet and still held it. The last thing he wanted was to transfer his nervousness over to the other man, who was dealing with enough already. He hadn't even brought his head up to look, uncertain if that would do any good. Would it be better if Yagami continued talking without having to meet eye contact?

"HQ…what about…"

That snapped his head up to look, meeting Iori's stressed gaze. Headquarters, which was gone. He'd set it aflame. There'd be nothing left by now. Nothing but ashes.

"It's gone, Yagami. We've been compromised, so…"

"You destroyed it, didn't you?"

Didn't take Yagami long at all to connect the dots. "Yes. I did."

He saw the other fighter glance down at the MP3 player. "You took that with you."

"It's yours, Yagami. Thought you might want it…after."

Pain in the other's eyes – the dark pupils large – which affected Kyo far more than he thought it would. "You were already thinking…"

"Shermie or Nanakase said Goenitz was trying to turn you. That meant…it meant we had a chance, Yagami. We couldn't leave you with them, could we?"

"But –"

"I took that, because I believe…I think I know what it's like. I never told you about NESTS in full, did I?"

"No." This expression he could read; Iori was surprised. "You didn't."

"You know what NESTS did. Don't need to explain that. But when I got home…when I got home, Yagami, after all of that…I…well…my room, my bike, my belongings – they became precious to me, you know?"

"You knew them."

"Yeah, that was a part of it. But they were mine. Part of before. Don't know if you –"

"I get it."

"So…I thought you'd like to have it. It doesn't play anymore but…"

Iori shook his head, red hair falling before one of his eyes. It did nothing to mask the wounded look he had. It was all so wrong. That was all he did and it said everything in one gesture. Having said his part, Kyo returned to his task of wrapping Iori's finger, taking extra care to do it right. Unwinding the cloth strip, he reapplied some liquor to the drained swelling and swiftly but methodically bound it so that none of the tender flesh showed. He knotted it and released Iori's hand.

"If you feel any pain, let me know."

The other man only nodded, bringing his hand closer to his side.

Kyo took a deep breath. This was the hard part. He'd been trying different angles of approach on the matter in his mind, all of which confounded him. In the end, he decided the direct approach was the best. When wasn't he direct, either in the arena or outside of it? However, as he learned, he didn't have to be blunt. But there was no sidestepping around this, even if he wanted to spare Yagami additional pain. Part of it was hygienic and part of it was seeing just how badly injured he was.

No, he couldn't avoid this.

"Yagami, I need to clean your other wounds. If you can…I need you to remove your shirt."

Iori stiffened at that, back upright and rigid. His hands clenched, the flats of his forearms pressed tightly against the upper planes of his legs. Like before, his legs were drawn close to his chest, reducing his overall size and the vulnerability displayed made Kyo wince. It was just going to make this part of his tasks that much harder and he really didn't want to be harsh about it.

"Why?"

"Yagami, you might have other infections. Other deeper wounds. I can't tell from here."

"You don't need to know."

Something in his brain clicked hearing that, confirming his worst fears. What had been done to him that he didn't want him to know or see? Who had done the damage, had embedded in Yagami the kind of fear Kyo never thought he'd experience? There were only two possibilities and Yagami had cursed the PMCs twice already. Goenitz considered himself a priest of Orochi – would never stoop to base torture (at least inflicted by his own hands).

He recalled the wind general's cutting remarks to Yagami. How Yagami had fallen silent at the mention of the soldiers.

He knew. He dreaded.

Kyo let go of the breath he'd been holding. Looked at Iori, who stared back at him with mounting terror. "Yagami, please."

"You don't need to fucking know, Kusanagi."

Kusanagi. Iori's emotions probably ran between stress, rage, and fear or were a jumble of all three. He'd called him nothing but Kusanagi from the night of the rescue, which meant Yagami wasn't ready to spill on anything that troubled him. Certainly not this. He needed to hear his given name for that to be forthcoming and his injured teammate hadn't said that once. Probably wouldn't for some time.

Since Kyo wasn't going to force him to take off his shirt, he remained sitting where he was. Yagami eyed him warily, every muscle in his body coiled to spring away if needed. For Yagami to be terrified of him – of what that one request asked for – said more than what the redhead ever needed to vocalize. With Iori Yagami a lot of times, it wasn't what he said that mattered, since most of that was surface level. It was what he didn't say or what his body language betrayed and seeing this, Kyo felt his stomach drop.

Shit. This was bad.

He wanted to ask the one question – the one question that had been on the tip of his tongue the whole time since he saw the welts, the bruising, the bloodstained shirt, and the gash on the top of his scalp. Because if he asked, he might find out. Start figuring out what had happened and then go from there.

But he'd resolved not to ask, because Yagami couldn't be pushed. Not now. Not like this.

Yet, he couldn't leave him like this until morning.

So, Kyo got to his feet – Iori starting beside him – jumped off the platform, went to the broken door, pushed it open and retrieved the pail of water next to it. The storm wasn't squalling as bad as before, which made it ideal for him to collect rainwater. The pail was full to overflowing; Kyo tipped it, letting some spill on the sodden grass and went back inside. He'd taken care of the growing wet puddle earlier by using his flames to evaporate the water. For fuel to feed the fire, he'd used one of the shirts and chiseled some wood chips off the back of the shed door. All in all, it'd been a lot of work. He had no time for idleness.

The pail was plastic, so he didn't apply his flame directly under it. Instead, he took it over to the fire and held it slightly above it to heat the contents. The pail being medium-sized, he waited until the water was warm and then took the second remaining shirt and ripped a decent length from it. With both in hand, he walked over to Iori and placed the cloth and pail of water on the floor within the other's line of sight just slightly under where he sat on the platform.

The whole time, Yagami never stopped watching him.

It was sad, seeing that.

"It's all ready when you are, Yagami. I won't watch, promise."

Then, Kyo removed himself to his side of the platform, hoisted himself up, lay on his back and summoned a small flame in his hand. Lifted his hand above his face, palm held at an angle and observed the orange and yellow tongues of fire flickering on the ephemeral edges. The heart of the flame was brighter – hotter – and burned whiter. He turned his hand, saw the flames from another direction and whiled away the time studying the phenomenon of his pyrokinesis.

He waited.

After some time – he wasn't sure how long – he heard Iori move. This was shortly followed by the sound of dripping water and he knew Yagami was cleaning himself.

As promised, he didn't look.

Even when Iori winced, the sound of his movement halting, Kyo didn't look. He didn't like breaking his promises, especially to those he now considered worthy of them. Yagami didn't feel secure with him knowing – seeing – the full extent of his physical trauma, so if Kyo considered himself a true friend and brother-in-arms, he'd honor that and cease hounding him about it. Because Yagami never asked him about NESTS despite his nightmares disturbing the other's sleep and Kyo respected him for that. He knew how much Yagami hated being seen – hated just being – vulnerable and this was an extension of that. If Kyo knew, if Kyo saw, then Yagami probably wouldn't be able to face him, to recover, to even confront the matter at hand.

From what he knew about his former rival, Iori Yagami hated hospitals. Preferred to self-medicate. Part of it stemmed from dislike of other people; the real root of it stemmed from pride. If it was something Yagami could manage himself, that was the action he took. Kyo, having realized this a while back, finding himself in this predicament, left it up to Yagami to decide. In the end, it was Yagami's ordeal – not his – so what right did he have to demand anything?

None. It wasn't his to call.

Silence.

Kyo clenched his hand, turning it into a fist. The flame extinguished.

Iori spoke; Kyo sat up but quickly turned his back to Iori while doing so. Sat cross-legged on the raised platform and listened.

The other man's voice was rough. "You know the Riot of Blood."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement and it was leading to something. Kyo wondered what. Should he ask? Should he even speak?

"Goenitz can induce it in those of us with Orochi blood."

Perhaps he should just listen. It didn't sound like Yagami needed interruptions.

"You know where I'm going with this, Kusanagi?"

Did Goenitz do that to Yagami? Put him into Riot state? But for what? Why do that when he had Yagami in his hands and under his temporary control?

"I see you don't. Riot takes a toll on me, Kusanagi. I can handle once. But again and again? That hurts and…I lose too much blood."

Kyo suddenly saw it, clear as day. How would the PMCs be able to hurt Yagami if he was in peak fighting condition? The only way they could do that would be if Yagami was weakened and the only person who could do that would be…

"He thought it'd convince me. Was displeased when I told him to fuck off."

Like how Yagami had done when Goenitz tried that last attempt to sway him.

"So he did it again and again. I couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't even go into full Riot."

Wait…was that what he'd seen the night of the rescue? It didn't seem like Yagami's Riot of Blood lasted very long that time…

"When I still wouldn't turn, he…" Iori paused, his voice falling silent. It lasted like this for a few seconds. "The soldiers took over. Said they could 'soften me up.' Blindfolded me, took me somewhere else."

Kyo had meant to keep quiet but that broke his resolve. "He handed you over to them?"

A long moment of silence.

Had he misstepped, spoken too soon? Or just spoken when he shouldn't have? Had he broken Yagami's concentration or disturbed his train of thought? Just when he was about to chide himself for opening his big mouth, the other fighter's voice returned. The tone was acidic, biting and yet…

"Yes, he did, Kusanagi. How'd you guess?"

The caustic question wasn't aimed at him. Kyo felt it went deeper. Couldn't tell why he felt that way – he just did. It didn't sound like Iori was moving anymore. Had gone still instead, with only his voice being active. Kyo didn't turn around – didn't dare. If it kept Yagami talking, then…

"The first time he made me go into Riot…can you guess, Kusanagi?"

Kyo thought. Couldn't think of when. He shook his head and wondered if Iori was watching.

"It was during the fight."

The fight? In the city hall? But why?

"I killed half the soldiers there. A sick little demonstration. They had orders to stand down and not shoot."

"But why would he –?"

"Why, Kusanagi? Because he could."

"They were O.R.O.C.H.I.'s own! Why cut down your own –"

"You think Goenitz cares? Those bastards are next after us. You think they ever thought of that?"

The blank wall before him stared back like an empty face devoid of expression. Even Kyo hadn't thought of that; yet, Yagami had. If O.R.O.C.H.I. truly wanted to wipe out humanity, the PMCs would have to go, too. But not before they finished their job, which was eliminating those deemed "the enemy". And all this time, they themselves were on Orochi's hit list, right after they completed their assignments. There was a twisted irony there and if it wasn't for the fact that the PMCs made their lives hell – had killed Kagura-san – Kyo probably would've felt some sympathy for them.

But after a full year of losing friends and loved ones and still suffering losses, Kyo found he couldn't care less about their fates. Let them burn in hell, because hell if he mourned their inevitable passing. It couldn't happen soon enough. Maybe they'd live through the year – through this week – if Orochi just started striking them down.

Wishful thinking. That got him nowhere.

"Wait, Yagami…why didn't they –"

"Mutiny against him? Wind general here, Kusanagi. The guy has motherfucking tornadoes and you expect half the force to just open fire on him?"

"But –"

"He's not us, Kusanagi. He's O.R.O.C.H.I. You really think they'd turn on him?"

"But…" But that meant…that meant the soldiers needed an outlet for that rage, which could only fall on…

"So when Goenitz gave me to them, they were only too pleased to fulfill orders. Enthusiastic, he called them."

Kyo could only imagine. The mere thought sickened him. And with Yagami too weak to fight back – blindfolded, even! – the terror must've been immense. And that, he discovered, was beyond his ability to conceive. He only remembered his bewilderment and horror while in the NESTS facility. He couldn't imagine – couldn't even try – to envision what Iori had seen, had heard, had felt while in the Shinsaibashi compound.

"Yagami…"

The redhead was silent.

He heard the other man sit, the rustle of clothing, and the faint sound of water splashing.

The silence lengthened, as though the rush of words had exhausted Iori. Kyo turned and risked a glance. His teammate sat with his back against one of the platform's steel legs, knees up and head bowed so that his face met the back of his hand. His shirt was wet, the cloth in the pail was bloodstained, and Kyo glimpsed drops of bloody water on the tile floor.

Pushing himself off the side of the platform, he walked over and sat next to Yagami.

Remained quiet.

After some time, Iori gave him a brief glance. "Kusanagi."

"Yagami…those soldiers…were they…"

"Which, Kusanagi? The ones I killed or the ones that –"

"The ones you killed."

"They had friends among the other soldiers. Word spread fast."

"That's…that's not fair."

Iori scoffed – it was tinged with bitterness – which twisted Kyo's heart. "It's not about fair, Kusanagi. I killed their brothers. It was payback. It could've been worse."

"How could it have been –"

"Goenitz told them they could do anything short of maiming or killing me. Everything else was permissible. You don't need to know much more than that."

"But your hands –"

"They did that the first night."

Kyo also remembered the bloodstains on Iori's shirt, the dampness of his hair, and that half-limp he had when he got him out of the cell. Suddenly, he was afraid to know the truth behind those. "Your hair was wet."

"Ever drowned before, Kusanagi?"

"No. What does that –"

"Think on it. You may not like the answer."

Instead of thinking on it – Kyo really didn't want to know – he latched onto the next thing in mind, because those little details turned haunting. "Yagami…besides your hands, what else did they do to you?"

"You don't want to know."

"Yagami…"

"You don't want to know, Kusanagi. It's better if you don't."

"Then why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because you'd ask, Kusanagi. You'd ask and ask. This way, at least you know enough."

"I'm not a –"

"Didn't say you are. But I know you, Kusanagi. Already, you're asking and I don't know. You think I didn't want to kill those soldiers when they were…" Iori faltered, words running dry and closed his eyes. There was a watery line of blood trickling down the side of his face. "I couldn't. I wanted to. But…"

But Yagami had been too physically weak to do so. Vulnerable.

"You weren't there. You wouldn't know."

Somehow, with those statements, Kyo knew the conversation was over. Iori had a certain way of ending his side of the discussion and the weariness behind those two statements told him the other man had had enough. Just needed time to himself.

Kyo looked to the other end of the building – to the dark rectangle of night outside framed by the door – stood up, crossed over to the fire (which was dying down and needed fuel) and took one of the dried shirts. He'd washed this one in rainwater, removed as much dust as possible, and all for one purpose. It was larger than the rest and most of those had been torn into bandages. Crossing over to where Iori sat, he reached out and handed it to him, watching as surprise flitted across his face.

He didn't say anything. He'd ended up asking after all.

Now, he just needed to leave. Leave Yagami to his own thoughts.

Turning away, he headed for outside. He couldn't let the fire die – had to go get more fuel.

Later that night – much later – Kyo lay on his side, found a decently comfortable position and fell asleep. The fire was crackling when he did so, casting shadows around the interior of the building. Yagami, as far as he was aware, was on the other side of the platform, sleeping. Only the fire moved; all else rested.

Sometime later – hours perhaps in the moments between deep and shallow sleep – Kyo became aware of another presence approaching him, footfalls soft. It stopped, settled besides him, lay down and was still. He knew who it was. Didn't call out or show that he knew.

Instead, he drifted off.

The fire continued to crackle. Continued to burn.