Kiku sat before Ivan with a small grin painted so splendidly upon his face. He had taken the place of Yao and it seemed as though every opportunity was set before him.

Yao had forgotten an instrument at a far away location, yet one that was still plausible by foot, and Mr. Kirkland had required him retrieve it, telling Kiku to keep that Russian, usually held within different possession, company.

Their eyes met softly, Kiku's near flirtatious, inside a special room of the Pavilion, and were brought wine to drink as well as small glasses to accompany that bottle.

"How have you been lately, Mr. Braginski? It has been a long while since we've spoken."

"I've actually been feeling quite wonderful…How have you been?"

"I've most certainly seen better days, but that's truly not important." Kiku regarded him with heavy eyes as the Russian drank his liquor. "Because some days I feel most spectacular."

"What is it that makes you feel spectacular?"

"It's difficult to explain. Occasionally, doing my job well…And at other times, simply having time alone. It depends on my feelings that day, I suppose. But I can find pleasure in most anything, especially when it is done correctly."

"Ah. I see. I can appreciate high quality things as well…Like holding a new book in your hands, or playing a song without mistakes."

"Yes. Or performing a dance with passion."

The larger offered an affirmative nod. "Now that you mention dancing…I haven't danced in a very long while…But I've always enjoyed it."

"Dancing was always my most favorite thing to do. And odd as it may be, it's a reason to enjoy this profession. It's surprising how many men appreciate dance, but it's likely that same with all art forms. There is always a myriad of admirers."

A kindly sort of smile was sketched about Ivan's lips."Very well said. Do you like any other sort of art form?"

"I've always loved poetry and painting, although I haven't truly been given the privilege to develop such tasks. I enjoy it most when I look at a canvas and I can't quite place something wrong with the brush strokes…But sometimes the sort of painting with imperfections is just as attractive. They certainly seem to reel in quite a bit of attention all the same; sometimes the painting with errors commands even more…Even though all those spectators weren't necessarily earned." Kiku took a sip of his wine. "Art is a fascinating thing, especially the pieces that are out of the ordinary." And those wells of deep ink regarded the pale visage set pleasantly before them.

Ivan's cheeks became the hue of the very liquid they had ingested. "Yes. I've always enjoyed art myself…If you ever get the chance, you should go to Russia for a few days. There are some fascinating things to see. I'm certain they wouldn't be wasted on someone such as yourself…You would likely appreciate them."

"Oh, goodness. What does someone such as myself actually know? That's very kind of you, but I'm just as certain I wouldn't know what to make of all of it."

"Well, I'll disagree with you, but I'll also allow you your opinion."

Again, Kiku donated that charming and petit curl he had utilized to capture the hearts and adorations of many before. It was in that moment that he thanked all his captors for allowing his figure such imminent sensuality. The man placed across from him was struck with something inexplicable, and he was not even made aware of those rosy cheeks and drunken response.

Kiku could hold that fluttering heart within his very palm.

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Braginski. It's so often I find myself in arguments."

"Please, call me Ivan…When people call me Mr. Braginski, I always feel somewhat uncomfortable."

"Oh, I'm sorry…How foolish of me; of course." And the persona of a young charmer was exemplified."I had no intentions of making you feel uncomfortable."

"That's alright. It's truly not a problem." Another glass was taken and sacrificed, Kiku filling that empty chalice the moment he was granted the ability. "I hope you don't consider this rude, but do you know when Yao will be returning? It's unusual for him to be so late."

"I'm sorry; I'm uncertain…But he could be quite a while…The place he's off to is quite far away. But he will return. I'm sure of that."

"Ah, alright…Thank you."

"Of course."

The Russian man drew slightly from that brimming cup and set it lightly upon the table. "Kiku, have you ever tried vodka?"

"No, unfortunately. I'll assume that you enjoy it…Is that correct?"

"Oh, yes…It's likely one of my favorite drinks."

Kiku once again allowed those playful lips to curl. "How endearing. Would you consider yourself a man of simple pleasures, Ivan?"

"Well…You've caught me. I'm not sure if there's any bigger simpleton than I am. I'm easily satisfied. Just as long as I have a bottle of vodka and a friend to share it with, I'm content. How about you?"

"How about me? Well…I think simple things can make people happy. I've found myself happiest beneath a starry sky and speaking with someone I love. But goodness, it's been something like years. Perhaps I don't have time for such simple things, although, I must say, I am enjoying your company. It's no wonder why Yao has such strong feelings for you."

The man smiled and filled his mouth with that sweet and sinful substance.

Nearly an hour later, they were in the very same place, and the Russian man had finished a bottle and half, while Kiku had barely breached his second helping.

When the servant came with another edition, a message was left quietly within his ear and a nod was given in return. The drunken man did not even take notice.

And they were once again alone.

"How do you feel Ivan?"

"Hmm?" Those shining bulbs had become dull, and lids had grown lazy, nearly falling against those lower lashes in their desired sleep.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. It's not anything to be concerned with."

"I'm sorry…" A large palm stuck to that gazer a moment, and a stupid smile was spread against that handsome mouth. "I'm a little off…How are you feeling?"

"I'm just fine; thank you."

Moments progressed and fell inside intoxicated silence, and that boy came back carrying a box, setting it politely upon the table before Kiku.

"Thank you."

"Hmm? What is that?"

Ivan was not offered the kindness of an answer, the lid removed from the ominous chest, revealing a fresh pipe already prepared with that awful ink hued substance filling its destined place, as well as its very purpose. Kiku removed that corpse from its cell and set it upon that table, retrieving the matches and then shut the portal to the fetid little universe of addiction.

The head of the very starter of great fires was lit and placed so carefully amongst those black stones, allowing smoke to rise against that confining ceiling, which seemed to grow as more of that minute forest burned.

"…Are you going to smoke that?" Although Ivan's question was coherent, his voice had grown clumsy and his syllables had become slightly disfigured, as eggs dropped from a pleasant basket, cracked, yet still perfectly functional.

"No…" Kiku rose and loosened the robes residing around his limbs as glassy blue eyes regarded him, almost as if he was putting on a lovely performance the audience had paid quite a bit for. There was nothing done to stop it.

Those dark silks draped around the assassin's ankles and he drew nearer to that malfunctioning patron, finding place against his lap, a hand occupied by intent to tear his life to shreds and free fingers drifting lightly past that heavy rouge inhabiting those pale cheeks.

"Would you like something new tonight, Ivan?" Kiku's voice became sweeter than the ugliest temptation.

When those azure gems screamed of lethargic worry and protest, the mouth did not shift. A bottom lip simply hung while a long blink was acquired.

And the naked one pressed his mouth to the other's while that free palm settled against that warm neck. There was something as mild hesitation as their tongues intertwined, but they did indeed intermingle, and the trapped man found himself aroused, although he knew that such a reaction was not supposed to occur with an unfamiliar lover pressed against his body.

For the first time in those great many weeks, Kiku had found his blood to pulse all around him, as if kept above a great and consuming fire, and his heart reacted within that once confident chest.

Their tongues past one another's and Kiku allowed slight moan from those painted lips. Not because he was still telling poisonous lies to the man who truly did not belong within his palms, but because he had finally been gratified. What he had wanted was set finally within his starving alms bowl and he kept it so close it was nearly destroyed.

As their mouths came apart, Kiku offered Ivan that pipe and was unaffected as that horrid gift was pushed aside. He had not expected it to be so simplistic.

"No…I can't."

"Alright…" Kiku placed a few of his awful intentions upon that expansive floor and continued to kiss that Russian man, so gifted in matters of the tongue.

The whore moaned as large hands came to his erect nipples, kneading pleasing circles around them as their mouths tied together in such succulent ways; saliva forming between either pair of hungry lips and both men were becoming more entranced with that occurring moment.

Kiku's head leaned back as that sweet orifice adhered so softly to his neck, selecting a nook and drawing upon supple skin, those large hands securing those shapely hips. Something was whispered in Russian and a sensuous bite was donned, bringing odd satisfaction to the smaller figure and a tighter grasp affected those large muscles.

As Ivan offered those pleasant sensations, Kiku's fingers moved towards those criminal buttons, freeing the fabric lining that fantastic chest and then pushing acquired flesh from large shoulders, allowing naked skin to the cool air residing so pleasantly around them. Kiku's numerals did not hesitate as that member was allowed from its prison of restrictive cloth, the lock picked from the Russian's trousers.

The owner of that healthy organ moaned from even the slightest contact, a euphoric cry surrounding the cause's ears as those very thieves slipped along that impressive shaft, only a moment before connecting it to their owner's cock.

Ivan's palm took possession of either of their members and messaged with certain and needy intensity, either party possessed by heavy pleasure, noises of blatant satisfaction draining from their throats.

"Ahhh…Ivan…" A free hand switched custodies and landed upon the smaller man's tongue, an index and middle suckling upon those numerals without any sort of restraint. Kiku coded them well in saliva, and the possessor of those great appendages took wondrous content in that sensation produced about his flesh.

After moments caught between those beautiful lips, Ivan claimed his extremities back and allowed them to press against the whore's opening, a digit finding entrance to that heaven so many had experienced.

"Ahhh!"

That buried claw wriggled within that easy pile of dirt, gently widening that pothole to ecstasy. Once enough room was made inside the other's body, another addition came beside the first and slowly began to scissor, placing cries of shameless bliss upon that swelling tongue, that symptom stifled by a passionate kiss with those sore organs tangling into an easy knot.

Kiku held a degree of shock at the intensity this man took his lovers. He had not felt so much pleasure since he was kept beneath the American's fiery body and smooth palms, and all of the passion kept between them was born solely of the embers of deep adoration.

"Kiku…"

The smaller of the two released loud sensation as the larger man removed those once prodding fingers, drawing that lovely waist in closer and allowing that engrossed member to press against that widened frame. Kiku fell around that Russian man with great care and gave shameless indication of his enjoyment. His hips were overtaken by those starving hands and that slender figure rose, back arched and mouth kept wide.

"Ivan!"

And once again, that member was enveloped in the prostitute's warmth, supple flesh gripped beneath possessive need.

"Ahhh!"

Kiku was incredibly close to that beautiful end, tears welling within his eyes; it had caused such satisfaction. His eyes had shut tightly and his hands clamped upon those attractive shoulders, and for a moment of great disbelief, his pondered the authenticity of that very occurrence.

It was all set inside that aggressive grasp, and reflected so fantastically upon the Russian's flesh. Kiku was well prepared to throw him from the highest of balconies, and all for his own sort of ruined bliss, something he had not been able to feel since that goddamn Alfred had evaporated into the rotting sunrise.

It had been the dawn of something awful, and his soul had been blackened in the ugliest soot , innocence and hope crippled, he was allowed the possessions of greed and the skill of seduction. He did not hesitate to deplore it.

"Kiku! Ahhh!"

The Japanese adolescent, who did not feel so young, fell once again and took a warm kiss from the Russian man. Their bodies ceased only a moment for their tongues to tangle together, while one of those well figured hands held to one of this cheeks.

Kiku moaned softly at that experienced touch, body placed within great demand and his cock begged for such attention. Generous fingers wrapped around that member and the assassin messaged as their bodies began to shift once again, Ivan's lazy eyes regarding him with bright orbs of light sitting beneath them, gaze far possessed by relentless pleasure.

Kiku's numerals became easily coded in evidence of sweet ecstasy, and his breath came into short supply.

Ivan lied a kiss upon his burning cheek and stole his body into a fast embrace as he pressed his murderer upon his back and continued to push in and out, either still moaning without shame.

"Ah! Ivan! Harder!"

The floor acquired claw marks as those requests were satisfied, and that pale body threatened to break the smaller one, either mouths open far wide. That action held a droplet of pain, but Kiku could hardly feel anything but satisfaction throughout those rushing veins.

Seconds were taken inside a different realm, when that pretty American was pounding so ruthlessly into him. It was not Ivan's shoulder's he grasped, nor Mr. Kirkland, nor any other horrid and well ugly old man. It was Alfred. And they loved one another with great and undying intensity…That was the reason why that body was so rough; so passionate…This love making was not born of need or simple boredom, but the heaviest of adoration.

It did not hold any form of pertinence that the man was drunk, and his head was likely far too clouded with the essence of utter nonsense…That he would not have made those very decisions had he been sober. He was no longer the same soul.

Ivan held tighter to Kiku's body and suddenly stopped, gasping for breath and wearing the very same expression that mirrored every pleasured man's face.

And Kiku released his vision into the great and deadly forest of reality, quiet tears rolling from the corners of his eyes. They were stolen away by clumsy thumbs and the man who had just collected that evidence of emotion lied next to the figure he had just claimed, eyes closing immediately and sleep overcoming his consciousness.

Kiku wiped the sweat from his brow with a shivering palm, and the door slid open, Yao standing at the frame and devouring that entire scene.

His eyes grew wide with shock, witnessing the bottles of devoured wine and the opium pipe, still fresh from its fire, although no one had sampled even a taste. His gaze adhered to Kiku's nudity, which was in no way hidden, nor was the flesh of that man laying at his side, having the appearance of someone who could have been well dead, yet that lifeless body was satisfied and could have lost that very soul in the essence of unfettered pleasure.

"What have you done?" The first inquiry of deep accusation reverberated from a lovely mouth softly. "What have you done?!" Yao came inside and Kiku stood, the beautiful man ignoring his entire presence and regarding the corpse that was so peacefully sent to the arms of sleep. "What happened?! Did he smoke from that pipe?!"

"Yes…He asked for some…And then he came onto me and removed my clothing. Naturally, I didn't refuse him. That wasn't my duty…" Kiku allowed his eyes brimming with malicious intent to the Russian man. "It's a shame, isn't it?"

"He wouldn't do that! He wouldn't…How could you allow him to take you? He was mine, Kiku…And you knew he was." The expected tears of loss descended upon that beautiful face, as the holder observed his lover's sweating body, his swollen lips and his cock, lined with a small amount of blood from his brother. "How could you?!" There was something of hysteria building inside the stomach of Yao.

Kiku moved without word to his robes and picked them up, beginning to place them around his gratified figure. The knife slipped against his leg, still holding its secret place, and had become far weightier than it had ever been in previous times, burning against the bearer's soft flesh. The handle was touched gently, and luckily, Yao had been too far upset to notice these subtle actions as they occurred.

"How could you?! I tried to help you! I loved you! And this is what you do to me?! You take my man from me?! My Ivan?! Just look at him! He won't even wake up! He could die! His heart will stop and you'll be at blame!"

The murderer threw his hand against the screaming one's cheek, and a moment of deadly stillness inhabited the air constricting either of them. It did not last.

Yao kicked his sibling with all his rage drunken might, sending him tumbling to the floor and dying of breath. The experienced whore wasted not a single precious second in straddling the younger's suddenly filthy waste and driving his fists ruthlessly into that gorgeous visage numerous times, pounding all his fury and frustration into the other's body, as if he could not understand those horrid sentiments.

"How could you?! He was mine!"

When Yao's barrage of unexpected power slowly ended, Kiku was left with blood strewn upon his nose and blackened eyes. As he regained that wavering consciousness, the owner of that whip simply regarded him, all his emotion displaced upon his shapely cheeks, one dyed red from the sad and futile attempt Kiku had made.

Finally, Yao rose and turned away from the ones left so broken upon the floor, his heart aching of all the things he had given to those demons around him. It was another two items against that long and terrible list, and the one who recorded all of those sorrows felt as if he was lacking that very jewel that had kept his legs progressing forward. Again, he would retrieve that glue and all those shattered pieces and try with welling eyes to piece it all together again…Perhaps he would simply fall from an open window stories above that cruel and hard ground. There were far too many fragments this time, and all of them graded into the finest and most hateful dust.

Kiku reached for his knife and removed it from its sheath, standing carefully and running with blind and reckless eyes towards that crying soul. His sight had been knocked from his eyes, and the coherency of his thoughts came as deformed characters written in messy strokes, yet, the blade struck cleanly against Yao's defenseless back, and cut away those expensive silks, as well as tore open a great chasm in that smooth flesh. The damage was deep, and the holder of that wound fell, screaming, while heavy blood began to pool against that damaged frame.

Kiku held the blade at his side and watched as his owner, his mentor and his very brother writhed, mouth barren of comment as fettered vision drown inside that draining wound.

Were they even siblings any longer?

No…They never truly were in the first place.

And for a moment, Kiku recalled all of those happy times kept so securely at the side of Yao, the kindness and all those embraces and kisses branded against his helpless forehead, the cheek and occasionally even the mouth. He numerated all those times Yao had stolen the tears from his eyes and throat and all those instances he granted reassurance upon those falling shoulders, all of that Hope, Safety, Security, Love… How they would speak and laugh together as if they understood their ideals down to the very soul, and all of those times they had cried together because of that very bond…Their Family…Their life beneath that same roof and locked inside the cage of a matching and cruel fate…Their affinities for one another.

Kiku found himself to be crying, his stomach one great stewing pot of mixed emotion and profuse pain; not only beneath his skin but lapping at every crevice of his very core. He was so overwhelmed; he nearly crashed to his knees.

In the puddle of blood he caused; that endless spring he had clawed open.

Life poured from it, and that once shining deity became pale.

And he watched, wielding the blade that had murdered all those hopeful possibilities and the life that possessed them.

"Kiku! What have you done?!"

The assassin avoided all of those familiar voices and stepped over that lifeless body, wielding the sword and carrying that very corpse that housed his soul home, the only place left where there was solitude and quiet.