Kiku sat upon that bench and gave all his thoughts to that expansive sky, the clouds drifting before the sun and casting odd shadows upon his placid cheeks.

He did not notice when Yao took a spot at his side and regarded his face a long moment, the addict searching inside those dead wells for some sign of recognition or even bare emotion, but the only inhabitant was darkness, and it sent convulsions tearing down the viewer's spine.

"Kiku…"

"What is it? I don't want to help you with anything right now. Find someone else."

"I don't need help…I'm just worried about you."

"Why? I'm just fine. Never have I been better in my life."

"Kiku, look at me."

"I don't really want to, but thank you for the offer."

The elder's brows furrowed and he allowed a long sigh from those expensive lips. "Kiku…Is there anything you need to talk about? Because you know I'll listen…You don't seem much like yourself any longer…And I don't want you to be in pain anymore than you have to be…Please, You-"

"Yao, shut your mouth."

"Kiku! Don't speak to me that way! Why don't you look at me?! Stop watching the sky like it's more important than your own goddamn brother!"

A reply was not created for the other's ears.

"Kiku!"

"Be quiet!" Those eyes were finally surrendered to the man who had so demanded them, fire thriving within their reflection. "Are you confused? It's simple; shut your mouth! Or have you cooked your brain to the point of miscomprehending simple Chinese?!"

Yao absorbed that shaking image with pain beginning to well within that kindly heart, offended that his good intentions were roasted upon raging embers.

"Maybe I don't want to talk to anyone! Maybe I like sitting alone! The moment we finished speaking you would ask me to assist you with something anyway! 'Kiku, why don't you brush my hair? Kiku, can you help me with my outfit?' Well what are these?!" The equivalent's wrists were gripped and held to certain aggression, the one owning that brutal hold aiming to bring harm to his elder sibling. "They're not broken, Yao." And those limbs were tossed aside. "So what did you really come for? Coax me into bathing you, or did you simply want me to hold the pipe to your lips?"

Yao slapped Kiku across the cheek with all the anger that Japanese whore had instilled within his boiling essence.

And was taken by complete shock when the back of Kiku's hand threw his face aside.

"…You just hit me."

"Oh my goodness. I did? I was just trying to give you a kiss. Would you like me to try again?"

"It's not wonder why Arthur likes you so well. You're becoming just like him. No, you are just like him…I was trying to help you, Kiku…I didn't want anything besides the knowledge that you were alright. But you clearly are not."

"Worry about yourself. You have far more problems than I. Why don't you calm down? Go feed that addiction of yours? It doesn't really matter to me. Regardless, you're out of my hair."

"What's happened to you? Kiku, I love you. I know I have my vices and my problems, and I'm sorry…But you don't need to say such harsh things. Not to someone who cares about you…Not to someone who loves you so much…Not to someone who would give anything for you."

"Then give up opium."

And Yao simply walked away.

Kiku took to the sky as if something of impeccable wisdom had been scribed upon those heavenly clouds.

Hours later, Mr. Kirkland took a place adjacent to that contemplative soul; hand gently falling upon the younger's in a sort of desperate communication. Kiku's gaze did not afflict the other, but shot into those tiny green follicles, begging for the same sunlight that broken one found so heavily inside his eyes.

"Kiku…"

Teeth sunk into a fleshy lip.

"You hit Yao, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?"

Nothing.

"…Has Alfred sent me any letters?"

"No."

"…Are you certain?"

"Nothing had come in…I never liked that stupid American anyway."

"Don't call him stupid…I loved him."

"Why?"

"Because he was beautiful and kind and I wasn't allowed to have him."

"What do you mean you weren't allowed to have him?"

"You took him away. You wouldn't allow him to purchase me and take me from this hellhole. But I'm not surprised. Everything around here is wrong, and everything you do is based on greed. If it was up to me, I would have his hand in mine right now, and we would be continents away from here."

Usually, during such moments, Mr. Kirkland would unleash that insatiable wrath upon his whore, leaving bruises for each little snide comment, and giving them weighty regret for even capturing the gull to raise their statements so freely.

But he could not reprimand Kiku. That child had shattered his core and collected a few of those pieces within an impervious jar, hidden beneath his robes and flesh and his very knowledge. The possessor did not have an inkling of the possession.

An infection of guilt even sickened for damaging that once shining youth so ruthlessly. Now, that precious soul bled and he was allowed a crimson bleached knife inhabiting dirty fingers.

Yet, he could not articulate those very sentiments; even if he was granted that ability, he would not. It was difficult for the Englishman to even experience emotion other than happy satisfaction or undying rage. It was all he had ever known, and all he had ever truly sought with a hungry grip.

Kiku rose without communication and began to wade from that blond man.

"Where are you going?"

"Inside."

"No you aren't. Sit back down."

"Alright." Yet, those feet did not cease in their imminent paths, and Arthur did not follow.

When Kiku reached his room, something savage possessed that flow of angered blood, and yet the conscious being beneath all that rage was not allowed opinion or even health. He could not feel sorrow or that raging destruction kept within his stomach beneath that clad lock. He did not feel the things beneath his fingers and heels as he set them driving into that floor. He did not feel his decorations clatter upon an unforgiving surface and shatter into many unwilling pieces. He did not feel his hands capture the silks from his form and nearly tear them from those livid appendages, nor did he feel that air spinning wildly around his naked form.

He did not even feel that diamond so molded with that golden chain inside his palm as he tried to shatter it, those edges threatening to collect blood and win that horrid battle between owner and near helpless possession. And he did not feel it as that gift as well went rolling into that ruined plain, causing a near crater from its simplistic weight.

Kiku did not feel the guilt he should have for all those days' events, although he knew his actions and words were cruel and unwanted by all the ears they were forced into.

He only felt those cool sheets around his crippled back as he dreamt hours' rage far from that once blessed figure.

Fantasy formed around him, and he was lost inside the deceiving arms of temporary comfort.