"You did it, Polly! You made it disappear!"

He could hear Trucy giggling. The bells on her cape chimed behind him, so faint that she sounded miles and miles away.

Apollo tried to respond, but no sound came out. Trucy sighed.

"Well…not really, actually." she said, cheery as ever. Apollo couldn't see her in the darkness. "But you tried!"

"Hmmm…"

That was all he could muster. A blinding beam of light flooded his vision, illuminating everything in sight. Apollo closed his eyes.

Trucy gasped.

"Oh, god."

Her voice sounded warped. His eyes fluttered open for a second, before slipping shut once more.

She grabbed his shoulders. She shook him, thin fingers digging into his skin. Suddenly, someone was speaking over her, their words drowning out her muffled laughter.

"Justice…Justice! You fool, you absolute—Justice!"

Apollo tried again. He squinted into the brightness, focusing on the shadow looming over him.

Silver-rimmed glasses. Golden, gleaming hair.

And an utterly furious glare, skinning him alive with its intensity.

Kristoph.

Almost reflexively, the phrase "get away" sprung to his tongue. As he tried to form the words, all the sensation in his body began flooding back. His aching head. His cold, clammy hands.

The excruciating pain exploding in his mouth. The sharp taste of liquid iron.

He clenched his teeth in a futile attempt to suppress the agony. Something seeped past the corners of his lips, trickling below his mouth.

He wanted to scream, but it hurt just to breathe.

"Justice. Look at me. Now!"

A hand pressed against the side of his face, forcing him to stare upwards.

For the first time in his life, Apollo saw wild panic in Kristoph's eyes.

"What the hell did you do?" Kristoph demanded. There was no doubt about it—the man was absolutely frantic. "Tell me. Go on. Tell me!"

Apollo opened his mouth. More trickles snaked down his chin. He pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, forcing himself to face the overwhelming pain.

It was too much. He couldn't speak.

It worked.

Kristoph ran his thumb along the edge of Apollo's jaw. Confusion smothered the remaining rage in the murderer's gaze.

"What have you done?"

The question repeated itself in Apollo's mind incessantly, drowning out all of Kristoph's other demands. Things were getting fuzzy. He stared at a blank spot worlds away, letting his brain ease into the feeling of weightlessness.

"Look, Justice."

Kristoph held a few fingers in front of him, obscuring his view.

They were covered in red.

Apollo blinked. An unrelenting wave of nausea twisted his stomach.

What have you done what have you done what have you done what—

"…is this? You're bleeding yourself to death, reckless fool—answer me!"

What have I done?

His mind was drifting away. His body was cemented in place. He couldn't make out anything anymore—his head was spinning infinitely, and his vision was turning gray.

"Don't. Don't do it, Justice—!"

Too late.

CR * CR * CR * CR * CR * CR

"Disappointing."

Kristoph dragged a fireplace poker through the cold ashes, watching the charcoal crumble under the rusted iron. His voice sharpened.

"Useless."

Blackened wood chips surfaced from deep within the cinders. They were mere husks of the logs that had been used to keep the fire going—empty shells of their former shelves, burnt and buried away.

Apollo had lost count of how many Kristoph had uncovered.

He's furious.

It had been a few minutes since Apollo had woken up in the living room. Consciousness had come in beats—it had been hard to keep his eyes open at first, but each moment awake brought along a new slice of reality.

His body curled up on the armchair. His hands, no longer bound. His tongue…still aching, the horrible pain exacerbated by a dense cotton gag stuffed in his mouth.

And Kristoph, only a few feet in front of him. Facing away.

"You've broken our deal." Kristoph stated. "No…you've ruined it."

Apollo could barely breathe. He reached up and grabbed the suffocating gag, resolving to remove it without catching the murderer's attention.

Is he trying to smother me?

His fingers shook as he extracted it at last, the pressure on his tongue lifting instantly. He sighed, feeling a fraction of the pain fade.

I'm still alive.

But relief didn't last long.

Within a matter of seconds, a metallic taste began pooling in his mouth. A quick glance at the white cloth clasped in his hand revealed a scarlet splotch soaked into the fabric.

Oh.

Apollo shoved the gag back into his mouth before any of the blood could escape. It was strange…for once, his fears hadn't come true.

He looked towards the murderer, wondering why he'd been left alone. He only saw Kristoph's back.

There had to be a reason.

Dim remnants of his desperate plan swam deep in his mind. So much for acting like biting his tongue been an "accident." There was no way he could've avoided Kristoph's skepticism after fainting…sabotage was something that the criminal had a keen eye for.

Chances were, Kristoph knew the injury was intentional.

Then why set me free?

Apollo twisted his wrists, both glad and anxious that he was no longer handcuffed. When he stretched his feet, he didn't feel any restraints, either.

"I shouldn't have expected anything more from a caged animal." Kristoph muttered. Without any face-to-face interaction, Apollo could only assume that frustration had driven the criminal to talk to himself. But more importantly…

I'm not being watched.

The last time he'd been let loose, Kristoph knew he'd been too weak to get up. Still, the murderer's vigilant eye had never strayed from his form.

What was different now?

Apollo couldn't recall the exact details from just before he passed out, but he did remember one thing—Kristoph's utter hysteria. The rarity of witnessing that side of Kristoph was not lost on him. Only extreme scenarios could bring out that kind of reaction…like a situation where someone valuable was gravely injured, for instance.

Kristoph believed he'd been hurt so badly that he couldn't move.

Apollo knew that that wasn't true.

His teeth tightened around the cotton gag. The pain had been paralyzing when he'd first experienced it, but now…

He drew his fingers into fist, feeling his arms tense up with ease. Whatever strength had been sapped from his muscles had returned with just a little rest.

And Kristoph didn't know.

This could be my chance.

"Allow me to ask you something." Kristoph said. The criminal continued to trace lines in the dust, still not looking up. "Have you ever been to a wildlife sanctuary? Or rather, in your terms…a 'zoo.'"

Apollo ignored the bizarre question, keeping his eyes trained on Kristoph's spine. He watched the murderer's every move, scanning for an opening.

"Every 'zoo' has a section for big cats, you see. Lions, leopards, cheetahs…and tigers." Kristoph's words grew soft. A strange, melancholy tint tainted his tone. "When I was a child…I always admired the tigers."

The fireplace poker was the biggest hazard. Kristoph could easily stab him through the gut if he tried tackling now, destroying all of his efforts within seconds. He'd have to wait.

"Do you know what happens when you turn your back to a tiger, Justice?"

Apollo pressed his feet against the back of the armchair, wound up like a spring. As soon Kristoph put down the poker, he would leap forward, grabbing the murderer by the back of his neck. Then, he'd constrict the criminal's windpipe, cutting off all air until—

"It stalks you."

After stirring the kindling for a few seconds more, Kristoph returned the poker back to its place.

"And…it pounces."

Apollo hesitated.

Kristoph brushed the soot from his lavender suit, fingers hovering over the bloodstains on the lapel. Then, at long last…he turned around.

"Well? Aren't you going to pounce?" Kristoph said, smiling.

Apollo's skin crawled. Whatever gentleness Kristoph had been feigning before had vanished…this time, there was something inexplicably twisted in that expression. A strained smile, empty eyes…nothing more than parts of a veil, covering a roiling pit of loathing.

Kristoph paced closer and paused, as if expecting him to carry through. Apollo only stared, wide eyed.

I can't…

He shook his head stiffly.

"Very good." Kristoph reached down and patted his head. "You've learned."

Apollo trembled at the touch, his mind manic from terror. A few days ago, he would've jumped forward reckless courage, but now…now, he knew. This was just a prelude to whatever new torture Kristoph had crafted while he was unconscious. His brain reeled as he tried to predict the wicked storm of abuse, fully aware that resistance would only increase the torment.

"Alright, Justice," the murderer said, "Let's get to the point."

Kristoph sat on the coffee table, setting aside an empty teacup in the process. Apollo fixated on it instantly.

Drugs again? Or…am I already drugged?

"The last time we spoke, I had left you to ruminate on your last words to Wright. In fact, you had agreed to do so, as per the rules of our game."

The teacup was on the table, but Apollo couldn't see the kitchen knife next to it anymore. Was Kristoph hiding it to use on him? Was his whole tongue going to be cut out as punishment?

"And yet, when the time came…you attempted suicide instead."

No, that'd be too obvious. Knowing Kristoph, he'd have to choose between Trucy and his tongue—

"Justice. I'm speaking to you."

Apollo's gaze whipped back to Kristoph. Kristoph took a deep breath, suddenly looking more exasperated than enraged.

"This simply won't do. I've pushed you too far."

Wait…what?

"I knew you'd be difficult to manage, Justice. But I never expected you to go so far as to try to kill yourself." Kristoph said. The criminal shook his head, eyes darkening. "You'd sacrifice yourself for Wright? Is that how pitiful you are?"

Apollo tried to prevent any confusion from showing on his face, all the while deciphering Kristoph's words. The way the man was speaking made it sound like he didn't know Apollo's real plan—to hurt himself just enough to avoid the conversation with Phoenix.

Instead, Kristoph seemed to have the impression that Apollo had given up on life entirely.

I can use this.

"Well?"

After a few more moments, Apollo nodded.

"How noble of you." Kristoph scoffed. Apollo disregarded the murderer's derision, instead focusing on the implications. If Kristoph believed he'd tried to kill himself, and had saved him instead, then that meant…

He isn't going to kill me.

He had to confirm it. He raised a hand and gestured to the gag, tapping it with his finger.

"It's not to silence you, Justice. You and I both know you've done that well enough." Kristoph replied. "It's only to stop the bleeding. Unfortunately, I had to tear one of your shirts to create it."

Despite Kristoph's neutral tone, it was clear that the murderer had gone to great lengths to treat him.

He needs me.

Some perplexity must have seeped into his expression, because Kristoph looked him straight in the eye before continuing.

"The cut is only on the tip of your tongue. You haven't sliced it off." Kristoph explained. "You should be able to speak again within two days, once it seals."

Two days.

He'd bought himself two days.

What happens after that, though?

He raised an eyebrow, trying to signal his question to Kristoph, but the criminal didn't notice.

"I will be keeping a close watch on you in that time…lest you try to rid yourself of it once more." Kristoph said, adjusting his flashing glasses. "You've become far too volatile to leave alone."

Suicide watch from a sociopath. Nice. Apollo thought, dry as ever. It was definitely strange—a two-time murderer was going to make sure he didn't kill himself.

"To that end…I will establish new terms for this arrangement."

A sliver of hope sparked somewhere in the back of Apollo's brain. The results of his self-sacrifice were starting to catch up to him. Kristoph's plan had been crippled. He was going to be kept alive. He'd even stolen away a decent bit of time. Even if he spent the next eternity trapped back in that closet, he'd be—

"I will allow you to remain free of restraints for the majority of the next 48 hours."

Apollo's heart stopped.

Kristoph crossed his fingers, blue eyes piercing.

"With specific conditions, of course."