Amidamaru' eyes slowly opened early the next morning, and, momentarily disorientated, he at first wondered why Yoh was curled up in his arms. Then, as memories of their earlier interchange seeped back into the samurai's mind, he snuggled slightly closer to the younger shaman.

He looked through heavy-lidded, half-closed eyes at the boy next to him before sweeping his gaze around his small room. They came to rest on the tattered Hawaiian shirt on the floor and it was this small detail that brought him out of his post-sleep disorientation with a sickening thud of reality. Had he...? What had he been doing last night?

And then he remembered complaining to Yoh about the shirt not fitting him, Yoh jokingly telling him to take it off. He had complied; he could not ever deny Yoh something he wanted, even if his friend was joking.

Amidamaru dragged the tip of his tongue along Yoh's jaw-line, pausing to nibble the soft skin of the boy's earlobe. Then he trailed ghostly kisses down the back of Yoh's neck, grazing his teeth against the shaman's shoulder blade as he brought his head up to nuzzle into the other.

Yoh's eyes drew open slowly as Amidamaru's soft silvery-lilac hair tickled his chin. He stared sleepily at the samurai lying next to him.

"Are you real?" The young shaman's voice was heavy, his brain still half asleep.

Amidamaru mentally frowned as he continued his administrations. He had been hoping for a moan from Yoh, or the shaman whispering his name or some positive response. It did not inspire confidence that the first words out of the younger boy's mouth had been "are you real?".

"You are getting so good at that..." Yoh's breath caught and he shivered as Amidamaru grazed his teeth against the shaman's throat. Well, at least that was a little more reassuring than "are you real"

Yoh yawned and stretched before wrapping his arms around Amidamaru's waist and pulling the samurai closer.

It would be nice to have a wake up call like that every day, Ami-chan..." He breathed. Amidamaru smiled and looked away, wisely deciding not to question Yoh's waking comment. It was surely because Yoh was still dreaming and had carried his dream into reality - wasn't it?

Yoh was having a hard time looking at the young swordsman; every time his eyes locked with the samurai's he saw the bloodstains, the tears, the desperate plea in eyes that were, even in his moments of torture, blackened by a dead, haunted hopelessness. The young shaman had to keep reminding himself that it had only been a dream, that he had not really seen Amidamaru's flayed, broken body sprawled at the voodoo's feet, that he had not really seen his samurai consumed by flames and heard the last strangled cry in the final moments of his life.

The young shaman subconsciously buried his face in the samurai's chest and Amidamaru, taken by slight surprise, pulled the boy closer, protectively. Yoh turned his head upward, his sleepy eyes looking in to Amidamaru's face.

"oh, Amidamaru..." The shaman exhaled before planting his lips firmly on Amidamaru's. The ancient warrior sighed in satisfaction, returning the kiss vigorously.

Yoh used his tongue to gently ease Amidamaru's lips apart, but the young shaman was taken by surprise as, all of a sudden, Amidamaru willingly opened his mouth. It seemed as though the samurai was ready, even if he was scared.

Yoh's tongue darted in to Amidamaru's mouth, exploring every sweet inch. The swordsman tasted of mint and chocolate – obviously from dessert the night before. Yoh was intoxicated by the rush of sensations and he at last achieved his desire as his tongue met Amidamaru's. They danced together and intertwined, each trying for dominance.

Yoh pulled back, letting Amidamaru search his mouth, letting the warrior see what he tasted like. Amidamaru's tongue ran across his teeth, across his tongue, exploring his mouth like an inquisitive child.

At last they pulled apart, breathless, Yoh smiling with excitation, but Amidamaru's face was dark and drawn, sorrowful.

"What's the matter?" Yoh asked concernedly. Amidamaru looked away. Yoh thought he saw the glint of a tear splash away from one of the samurai's eyes, but his long pale hair concealed his face. When he spoke there was a definite quiver in his voice.

"I can't do this, Yoh."

"Of course you can." Yoh moved his arm around Amidamaru's shoulders, comforting the other. "I loved it... anything you don't know we can learn together."

"N-no..." Amidamaru was definitely choking over his words now. "You misunderstand me. I can't do it. You're thirteen, Yoh. I'm six hundred and twenty four. There's over five hundred years' difference. It's worse than cradle snatching, it's worse than paedophilia."

"You're not a paedophile." Yoh said softly. Amidamaru turned his tear-stained face towards the shaman. It was a mask of guilt and shame, a sight that caused the claw around Yoh's heart to give it a painful wrench.

"How is what I'm doing any different from a paedophile, though?" The samurai whispered.

"Because I want this as well, Amidamaru. I'm giving you permission." Yoh answered, smiling with a hint of sadness. Amidamaru leant towards Yoh and closed his eyes; the shaman actually thought that Amidamaru had decided to carry on when the samurai pulled away suddenly.

"I... I can't..." He sobbed.

"Amidamaru..." Yoh stared at his friend, who swallowed a few times as though trying to get rid of the lump that had risen in his throat.

"Please, Yoh... please leave... I can't..." Amidamaru bit his lip and averted his gaze and Yoh knew that it was over. He nodded, trying to hold his own tears back.

"I understand." He said shortly, rising from the bed. Without a backwards glance, he left the room.

When the door clicked shut, Amidamaru gave a small, almost non-existent moan and turned over in the bed, pulling up the covers so they concealed his entire body.

-

Yoh walked sadly along the corridor toward the bathroom. He respected Amidamaru's decision, realising how hard it must be for the samurai. Honour played a huge part in a samurai's very lifestyle, it must have devastated Amidamaru to find that the affections he felt for Yoh were sexual. There was such a huge age difference between them – Yoh was actually surprised Amidamaru had held out for so long.

Yoh was immersed in thought so deeply that he did not notice Ren until he walked in to the other shaman.

"Hey! Watch it!" The Tao snapped. Yoh apologised and Ren's expression softened a little.

"Congratulations." He said at last, watching Yoh.

"Sorry?"

"You and Amidamaru. You're perfect for each other. Amidamaru's been through a serious psychological breakdown." Ren shrugged. "You're just what he needs to rebuild his life."

"He's better." Yoh said curtly. "And we're not together."

"No?" Ren's expression was one of puzzlement. Yoh shook his head.

"Not anymore... hey, can you hear something?"

Both young shamans strained their ears to the sound of banging coming from downstairs.

-

With a dejected sigh, Amidamaru began dressing in his samurai robes. He felt as though a huge hole had been blown inside him, emptiness coursed through him as though carried in his bloodstream. He had just thrown away the most important thing in his life, or unlife, or relife, or whatever the hell it was he was experiencing now.

Of all the people he had known in the past, Yoh was the only one who really cared apart from Mosuke. And Mosuke... Amidamaru remembered when he had first developed feelings for Mosuke, he had been too scared and too ashamed to confess to his friend, who was decidedly straight. In Yoh the samurai had everything that Mosuke couldn't give him. And he had thrown it away.

He stared silently out of the window, tying the belt around his robes and slipping his white cloak on, before dragging his gaze away to focus on fastening his arm and leg guards. He wasn't quite sure why he insisted on wearing them; it wasn't as though he needed them anymore.

He stared at the shields that had once covered his shoulder. He did not wear those anymore, they were simply too heavy and they got in the way. He had tucked them next to his twin katanas, which lay on the table. He watched them, as though hoping one would suddenly come to life and plunge itself into his heart. At least then he wouldn't have to live with the pain.

His keen ears heard the banging coming from downstairs, and he ignored it. Why bother? It wasn't his concern. There wasn't anything downstairs except –

Except –

Oh, shit.

Amidamaru grabbed one of his swords and shot off towards the stairs like a startled rabbit. There was only one person downstairs who could be making the noise that sounded suspiciously of metal on metal.

He hared down the corridor, sprinting at full pelt, narrowly missing crashing in to Ren and Yoh, who stared after him.

"Where's he going?" Ren asked, but Yoh was beginning to realise what Amidamaru had already figured out.

"Oh, no..." He began, starting after Amidamaru. "He's escaped!"

"Who's escaped?" Ren demanded, running after Yoh.

"He has."

-

Amidamaru found the voodoo in the basement. The chains had been sheared clean through and the sinister man was holding an axe.

Amidamaru saw him properly for the first time. He was quite young, about the same age as the samurai (minus the 600 years death experience). If it weren't for the decidedly confident smirk that was twisting the man's thin face, he might have been called handsome. Except for the scars. Amidamaru inhaled in shock.

The voodoo's face was riddled with scars, the most prominent being a long thin line that ran straight across his right eye, giving him a permanent slight squint. A cold draught from the basement swept the voodoo's shoulder length hair across his face. It was fascinating hair. It was light brown, but had so much natural red and gold in it that when the light caught it, it gave the appearance that the man's entire head was on fire.

He was wearing a loose linen shirt, the top button undone. There was a black necktie under the collar, and he was clutching his axe loosely to his side. Though he appeared casual, there was an underlying hint of danger.

The voodoo was surrounded by a strange black glow, which looked suspiciously familiar to the samurai.

"That's an oversoul!" Amidamaru stated in surprise. "You're a shaman?"

The voodoo sneered.

"Not quite."

Yoh and Ren arrived behind Amidamaru, but the samurai did not notice them. All he could see was his hated enemy, standing and gloating in front of him. A red mist was rising in front of his eyes, something he had not experienced for 600 years and something he had hoped he would never experience again.

"What's happening?" Yoh asked. Ren stared.

"He's going into a bloodlust!" He exclaimed suddenly. "He'll destroy anything in his way just to get at that man!"

The voodoo gripped his axe and Amidamaru launched himself, yelling, bringing his katana down for the fatal blow –

- which was blocked by the axehead. There was a grating sound of the metal colliding on metal. Sparks flew from the contact point. The voodoo brought his sneering face right up close to Amidamaru's snarling one.

Yoh and Ren watched as the fight began. The voodoo was certainly skilled with his axe, forcing Amidamaru in to the defensive, but Yoh was beginning to see why his samurai had been called the best.

Every one of Amidamaru's moves was calculated. It was as though he was playing a chess game in his mind, thinking two moves ahead, while all of the voodoo's attacks were impulsive. It was an intense fight that could still go either way.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, the voodoo pulled away. Something flickered in his face – the cold, cruel eyes suddenly became wide and terrified, he started to stutter something.

"N-n-n..o.." the word was formed with difficulty, as though the person speaking had long ago lost the habit of speech. "N-no... no!"

Amidamaru seized his chance, slashing downwards with his sword and catching the voodoo on the left cheek, leaving a long deep slice.

The voodoo reeled backwards and regained control of himself. There was no hint of fear in his eyes as he contemptuously wiped the blood away from his face on his sleeve and spat at Amidamaru's feet.

The two weapons collided again, blood running in steady streams from the voodoo's face. With the sword and the axe locked together, Amidamaru did a complicated little flick. The axe went spinning away towards Yoh and Ren.

Amidamaru stiffened and suddenly broke away from the voodoo, who was grinning. The samurai's face was contorted with pain, a sudden closed expression. Yoh saw the handle sticking out of his left side. The voodoo had concealed a knife up his sleeve, and had struck when Amidamaru flicked his axe away.

Amidamaru pulled the stiletto out of his side and threw it away from him, swinging the sword. The flat of the blade caught the voodoo at the side of the head and the man fell to the floor, stunned.

Amidamaru dropped his sword; the bloodlust slowly evaporating. He clutched his injured side with one hand; the blood was seeping through his fingers. Yoh saw the wound through a rip in the warrior's robes. It was nasty, deep and serious.

"Amidamaru!" He called suddenly, seeing the danger. The voodoo had got to his feet again, hatred and rage clouding his face. Amidamaru's katana was clutched tightly in the sinister man's grip and he began towards the unarmed samurai, blood pouring down his face.

Amidamaru dropped down and grabbed the knife, which was laying by his feet. He watched the advancing voodoo calmly for a minute.

Amidamaru slung the knife expertly. There was a pitiful cry from the voodoo and then his body hit the opposite wall. The man's head lolled downwards in a parody of life, as though he was staring in shock at the handle protruding from his throat, at the blade embedded in it, though his once-cruel eyes were sightless and dead.

Amidamaru staggered a few steps towards the body and fell to his knees, inhaling in pain and clutching his side. He bent at the waist and the hand that had been holding his wound was flung out in front of him to support him as he landed on all fours, panting. He looked up at the body in front of him.

A black fog was coming from the voodoo's chest, though Amidamaru was not sure whether it was the man's spirit or just the fogs of unconsciousness coming to claim him. The strange mist evaporated and the voodoo's spirit tumbled out into the light.

His eyes were wide and he studied his translucent hands, puzzled. Then, as though only just realising it was there, he looked at the body, raising one hand to the knife through his throat. His hand passed straight through the handle.

The spirit laughed.

It was not the cold, cruel laugher that Amidamaru was used to, it was the happy, joyful laughter of someone who means it, who really has something to laugh about. There were tears shining in his eyes. It confused the samurai – what did the voodoo have to be happy about? He had just lost everything.

The voodoo's spirit was still laughing even as Bason descended on him, pummelling him, making sure he didn't escape.

Amidamaru's vision was swimming. He was vaguely aware of pain in his side, and there, above him, was Yoh's spinning face. The boy was grinning.

"Well done, Amidamaru." The shaman's words sounded from far away in the samurai's mind.

"You win."