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One Week Earlier

The worst thing, Kyo decided, was that there wasn't enough room to pace. His muscles twitched with pent-up energy, begging for him to get up, move around, run—but there just wasn't room for it. How many hours had they been stuck in here? When was someone going to come by with food, water? His throat was dry, his stomach making feeble protests at how long it had been since breakfast.

Someone was going to come. Right?

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He got to his feet, stooping to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling, and began a pacing circuit of the room. Around…around…around… Before long, the tight circle of his steps had his head swimming with dizziness, but he ignored it. He walked faster, his sneakers slapping loudly against the stone, jogging now, almost running—

A foot lanced out and caught his ankle, and he hit the ground hard, sprawling face-first on the floor. He lay there in pain for a second, catching his breath and fighting the urge to groan, then spun around to face Yuki.

"What the hell'd you do that for?" he roared. "Kuso nezumi! If you wanna fight, at least fight fair!"

Yuki stared at him calmly, and Kyo realized that this was the first time he'd seen Yuki looking calm since they'd been stuffed in here hours ago. "Maybe we should fight," he said mildly. "If I knocked you unconscious, at least then you'd stay still for five minutes."

"Go ahead and try it, baka nezumi!"

"Maybe I will, baka neko! It would be worth it just to have some peace and quiet!"

"The only peace and quiet we'll have is yours, when I knock your head into the wall!"

"What kind of a stupid comeback was that?"

"Shut the hell up! I have all the comebacks I need here in my fists!"

"Hai, hai. Then stop talking and fight."

"I will!" Kyo barked, and stomp-crawled over to where Yuki was sitting. Fists bared in front of him, he settled into a fighting stance on his knees and watched as Yuki did the same.

They faced each other in silence for a moment, glaring and waiting for the first move. Finally, Kyo shuffled forward and lanced out with a fist. Yuki ducked the punch easily, and countered with a blow to the ribs that sent Kyo toppling to the side. He didn't fall far before hitting into the wall, and by the time he'd recovered from the impact, Yuki was right there in front of him, aiming a punch at his face.

"Not this time, kuso nezumi!" he snarled, and knocked the blow aside with the flat of his hand. His other hand came up at the same time, slamming towards Yuki's jaw—but Yuki dodged at the last second, leaving Kyo's fist to thud painfully into the wall. The speed of the move overbalanced Yuki, however, and he fell, cracking his head against the wall and then landing on his back on the floor. Kyo was swinging back for another blow when Yuki's legs scissored out and shoved his knees out from under him. Kyo toppled forward—

And found himself sprawled on top of Yuki in an exhausted, panting heap. At first, he could do nothing but lie there, breathing hard with exertion and pain and feeling the quickened rise of Yuki's chest against him. Finally, he managed to summon enough strength to pick himself up, but he didn't get far; the next several minutes found him lying on his back next to his rival, both of them gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling.

"Rematch," Kyo panted, "once we're out of here."

Yuki glanced over at him, his eyes a glimmer of violet in the dim lighting. "Hai."

After a time, Yuki crawled into a sitting position and leaned his head back against the wall, wincing briefly as his bruised skull touched the stone. Not wanting to look like he needed longer to recover, Kyo heaved himself into a similar position and stretched out his legs. His ribs ached, pain lancing through him with every breath, but he told himself he'd had worse and tried to ignore it.

And really, even with the pain in his chest, he had to admit that he felt good. His muscles no longer felt cramped and underused, and the fight had seemed to burn off a lot of his nervous energy. Even the hunger was easier to bear now, as if his body had gotten the idea that this was a contest—beat Yuki at all costs. Handle the pain, ride out the hunger, push away the claustrophobia—out-cool Prince Baka Nezumi in every category. Come out of this as The Winner, the one who held it together, the one who faced down Akito's twisted punishments and came out still grinning and strong.

Yeah. That was how it'd be. Kyo emerges victorious at last, and leaves poor girly-faced Yuki crying and sniveling in the corner.

Kyo grinned and closed his eyes, the world feeling right for the first time in hours.


The Present

It wasn't a large cut, just a thin slash of red near the joint of his thumb, ugly and healing. He found his eyes seeking it out again and again, the thumb of his other hand tracing back and forth across its length. He just couldn't seem to leave it alone.

But that was all right, because it gave him something to focus on. Something to think about that wasn't…

Kyo.

He shook his head violently, denying it, caught between anger, confusion, and the shaking urge to vomit. And he would deny it, because it wasn't true. It couldn't be true. He couldn't believe that he would ever do something like that with—he shuddered and shook his head again—and so of course the dream was nothing more than that: just a dream.

But no, that wasn't right, either. For him to dream about it would imply that some part of him wanted it, and he most definitely certainly vehemently did not. Not with Kyo. Not ever.

Yuki sat up and pressed his hands over his face, squeezing his palms over his eyes as if to blot out the images. He had to stop thinking about this. He had to stop…remembering it, because the dream was so searingly vivid that he could almost feel the slide of rough fingers against his skin, the hungry press of Kyo's mouth on his…

NO! STOP IT!

He leaped from the bed, his face burning with shame as his body reacted to the memory. Stumbling steps took him down the hall and into the bathroom, where he sank to his knees and closed the door.

He ended up lying on the floor with his arms over his stomach, the tiles cold under his cheek.


One Week Earlier

Kyo was dozing when the door opened, and spent a moment squinting into the light before he realized what it meant. He leaped to his feet, determined to fight his way out that door no matter what—

Stars flashed in front of his eyes as his head connected with the low ceiling. He spent a moment hovering there half-upright, his ears ringing with the force of the blow—and then he crumpled to the floor and lay still, breathing shallowly and trying not to throw up.

Dimly, he heard the rumble of a voice from the doorway, then the softer sound of Yuki's reply. Something metallic scraped against the floor…and then the door swung shut, leaving him lying in the darkness with no escape.

The only thing that kept him from crying out in misery was the thought of Yuki sitting there behind him, watching. Waiting for him to fall apart. So instead he just lay there, weathering the gnawing ripples of pain and waiting for his stomach to stop churning. After a time, he heard a rustle of movement from behind him.

"That was stupid," Yuki said quietly.

Kyo turned his head with an effort and found Yuki sitting just a few inches away from him, his hands folded over one knee.

"Shut up, kuso nezumi," he managed, but his voice sound wrong, weak and strangled. He cleared his throat and tried to summon the strength to get up.

A firm hand pressed against his shoulder, keeping him down.

"Baka," Yuki sighed. "Just lie there for awhile. You probably gave yourself a concussion."

"I'm fine," Kyo muttered, and heaved himself up from the floor. The room started to spin, but he gritted his teeth and forced his way through it, and after awhile managed to drag himself over to the wall and lean his back against it.

Yuki shook his head and turned away, crawling forward to examine the tray the guard had left by the door. On it was a small jug—water, Kyo figured—and a few pieces of bread and cheese.

He snorted. "Bread and water. Just like in those stupid prison movies."

Yuki gave him a cool glance. "If you don't want it, I'm sure we can ask the guard to take it back."

Kyo muttered something and looked away, wishing his ears would stop ringing. Made it so damn hard to concentrate…

"Here." Suddenly Yuki was right there in front of him, holding out a chunk of bread.

He shook his head, the mere sight of the food enough to start his stomach churning again.

Yuki, he found, was watching him closely, studying him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Damn it, he was losing again! With a growl, he snatched the bread from Yuki's hand and shoved it into his mouth.

Yuki frowned at him. "Don't force yourself."

"I'm not," he mumbled around the mouthful. "And I don't need some baka nezumi telling me what to do."

"Fine," Yuki said coolly, and crawled back to the tray to eat.

Kyo closed his eyes and held in a groan, swallowing the last of the bread even though it was dry and heavy in his mouth. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, leaning his head against the wall and fighting back the nausea, but suddenly the door creaked open again and the guard stepped inside.

The man didn't say a word, just stood there staring at Yuki. Yuki stared back, looking confused—and then something changed in his face and he slid backwards, away from the door and the guard's level stare.

"No," he whispered. His voice was hoarse, his eyes wide and panicked. "No…please…"

The guard lumbered forward and grabbed Yuki's arm, as if to drag him from the room, but Yuki struggled against the grip, kicking and punching, arms and legs flailing.

Kyo watched, confused and a little afraid. What was happening? Why wasn't Yuki fighting like he normally did, all calm features and smooth, certain movements?

The guard's voice boomed in the close quarters of the room, breaking into his thoughts. "You'll only make it worse if you fight."

Kyo found himself crawling forward, something cold and angry clenching in his chest. "Make what worse?" he demanded, coming up behind the man. "What's going on? Where are you taking him?"

Yuki was finally still, sitting there with his breath coming harshly, his arm still captured in the big man's grip. His eyes flickered over to meet Kyo's for just an instant, and Kyo felt his mouth go dry. He had never seen Yuki's eyes like this. Helpless. Scared.

A fierce surge of something welled up inside of him, and before he knew what he was doing, he'd launched himself forward and slammed into the guard's knees, knocking him off his feet. Then, before the man could pick himself up, Kyo grabbed Yuki's wrist and pulled him out of the room, slamming the heavy door behind them.

The sound of it crashing shut jarred him out of whatever inexplicable emotions had seized him, and he let go of Yuki's wrist as if he'd been burned.

"Come on, kuso nezumi," he muttered. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Yuki just stared at him. Then there came the sound of heavy fists pounding on the other side of the door and he snapped out of his daze, blinking and shaking his head. "Hai," he managed. "Let's go."