-3-
The Present
Kyo found himself lingering at the top of the stairs, arms hanging loose at his sides, his back pressing against the wall. He should go back to bed, he told himself—get some sleep. Maybe he'd even be lucky enough not to have any more dreams.
Instead he started down the hallway, his bare feet making sticky noises on the floor—heading for Yuki's room. Why? What did he need to say? What was so important? He shook his head and forced himself to stop, to reconsider—to turn around and head back to his own room.
He only made it halfway there before he heard the sound of a low moan from the bathroom.
He didn't move for a long time, standing there with his eyes fixed on the golden strip of light under the door, listening. The sound was not repeated. Finally, he sighed and wrapped his hand around the knob.
Yuki was lying on the floor, curled up on the bath mat with his head pillowed on his arm. His eyes were closed. Asleep? His face was pale, his cheeks flushed. Before he knew what he was doing, Kyo was kneeling on the floor and pressing the back of his hand to Yuki's forehead. Yuki shifted a bit at the touch, murmuring something, and Kyo leaped back so quickly that he banged his head on the towel rack.
Cursing, he got to his feet and stomped out of the room, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking. What Yuki did in the middle of the night was his own damn business; if he wanted to sleep on the floor of the bathroom, fine! He didn't give a damn. Let the baka nezumi freeze to death.
Soon he was back in the safety of his own room, still scowling and muttering under his breath. He was still cursing as he ripped the top blanket from his bed, stomped back out into the hallway, and tossed the warm covering onto Yuki's back. The trail of obscenities led back to his bedroom then, where he slammed the door shut and crawled into bed.
One Week Earlier
Kyo leaned his head miserably against the wall, trying again to stem the flow of blood from his nose. The tray of food had been gone when he woke up in here, so he was hungry as well as being cold and in pain. And he couldn't help thinking how quiet and empty the room seemed now that he was its only occupant.
Akito had been waiting for them at the top of the stairs, looking young and harmless in a tailored dark suit. "Did you really think you could get away?" he'd asked, smiling at them like a predator about to lunge in for the kill.
Kyo had spun around, ready to sprint back down the hallway and find another way out, but three of Akito's men waited behind him, a silent barrier of muscle blocking his exit. He faced front again, helplessly—and found Akito standing on the step above him, his pale features twisted in anger. Kyo steeled himself, expecting to be slapped again—and that was when Akito grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face into the wall.
He wasn't sure when he'd passed out. The moments seemed to melt together. One moment he'd been lying at the foot of the stairs, blood on his lips and the distant sound of Yuki's voice in his ears, and the next…
The next he was here. Alone.
Kyo swallowed hard and reminded himself to breathe.
That had been…how long ago now? An hour? Two? He'd lost track. All he knew was that the room was too small and there was no one to see if he fell apart—no one to listen to the sharp, panicked sound of his breathing, or see him wrapping his arms around himself and squeezing his body into the corner. No one to notice the embarrassing dampness on his cheeks.
And this was what it was going to be like, wasn't it? When they locked him up. It was going to be just him, just him alone in a tiny room…trapped. Forever.
With a strangled cry, he slammed his fist into the wall. The flash of pain grounded him somewhat, giving him something solid and tangible to focus on—something that let him return to this moment, this problem, and stop dwelling on the terrors of his future. He was just struggling to calm his breathing, taking in long, slow pulls of air, when the door swung silently open.
Kyo swiped a hand over his face, wiping away the lingering tears and blood, and tried not to look too hopeful.
When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a bulky figure entering the room—the guard they'd locked in here. Yuki was half-collapsed in his grasp, limp legs trailing along the floor, head hanging down so his eyes were lost under a fringe of dark hair.
Kyo could only stare as the guard smirked, then stepped back and let Yuki crumple to the floor. Like a doll. A body.
The door swung shut.
Letting out a shaking breath, Kyo crawled slowly forwards. Yuki didn't move as he approached, lying there with his cheek against the floor, lifeless but for the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
It wasn't until he knelt by Yuki's side that he saw the welts. Long, angry slashes of red marked his arms, and a peek under the dark tunic showed the same brutal pattern on his chest, his back, his shoulders.
Kyo found himself staring at the marks with wide eyes, a thousand half-remembered clues converging in his brain.
Was this what you were so afraid of? Was this what he did to you…when you were a child?
He felt suddenly sick and pushed back until his shoulder blades hit the wall, until he could lean his head back and close his eyes and pretend he was somewhere else.
He'd never known hatred like this. It curled and clenched inside of him, spreading searing fingers through his chest, making him want to leap to his feet and do something, tear something apart, break something with his bare hands. Smash his fist into Akito's face.
He imagined it with a cold, malicious satisfaction. The crack of bone under his knuckles, the pained cry as Akito fell…
He sighed and let his head drop, his shoulders slumping.
No. He didn't want that. He didn't want to inflict any more pain, not even on Akito.
I'm not a monster!
His head fell into his hands, resting in the cradle of his palms. God, he was tired. How much longer were they going to be trapped in here?
He was still sitting like that when there was a rustle of movement from the middle of the floor. He opened his eyes to see Yuki struggling into a sitting position, his movements slow and wincing, his face a mask of pain. He didn't make a sound as he sat up, but the silence was almost worse. To have to control it so rigidly, to keep such a tight lid on the pain…
Kyo cleared his throat, feeling suddenly awkward. "Uh…are you…?"
Yuki glanced at him in surprise, but the sudden movement must have hurt, because he winced. Then he nodded, very slowly. "Hai," he said quietly. He looked around the room for a moment. "Never thought I'd be glad to be back in here," he whispered.
Kyo approximated a grin. "Yeah, tell me about it. I never thought I'd be so glad to see—" He broke off, clearing his throat again. "—this, uh…this room again. Either."
He fished around in his brain for something else to say, something that would make everything feel normal again, but Yuki spoke before he could come up with anything.
"You shouldn't have done that. Attacked the guard. He was right—fighting back only makes it worse."
"You know," Kyo growled, "Akito's not God, even if he thinks he is. Just 'cause he's in charge doesn't mean we have to do every goddamn thing he says. Did you ever think that maybe if you actually stood up to him, he'd stop beating the hell out of you every chance he gets?"
Yuki looked over at him, a bitter, mirthless smile on his face. "Oh? That would solve everything, if I stood up to Akito?"
Kyo shifted uncomfortably, something about the expression chilling him. "You could at least give it a try," he muttered.
Suddenly Yuki was right there in front of him, his face mere inches from Kyo's own, his hands pressing into the wall on either side of Kyo's head. "I have tried," he hissed. "Baka neko, you think everything's so simple. What do you know about Akito? About suffering?"
"What do I know about suffering?" he heard himself echo. His voice was strangely soft, trembling with restrained rage. "You've gotta be kidding. You've suffered? You've had it easy, everybody cooing over you and coddling you and worshipping you. Poor Yuki, adored by everybody. Talk to me about suffering when your own mother looks at you like you're a monster, because you are. Or when everybody around you whispers and laughs behind your back, and looks at you like you're not human at all, like you're just some…some creature wearing a human skin. Or when you have to go through every fucking day knowing that they're going to lock you up, that you're going to be stuck alone in a cell for the rest of your life and nothing you say or do will ever make them let you out again!"
He was shaking, he realized. Shaking because everything he'd just said was true, and hearing it coming out of his own mouth made it abruptly, terrifyingly real.
And suddenly he was so angry. Angry at Yuki for being the perpetual Golden Child when he himself was spit on and shunned. Angry at Yuki for being smart and talented and disgustingly perfect, for being the one everyone listened to and respected. But most of all, for being here and making him say these things, making him wrench his deepest fears from the shadows and expose them to the light.
He sprang forward with a roar, knocking Yuki onto his back and pinning him to the ground.
Yuki cried out as he hit the floor and Kyo's weight settled on top of him, but his expression was all fury and hatred. "Get off of me, baka neko!"
"Make me," Kyo snarled. "What's the matter, you stupid wimpy rat? Akito smacked you around a little and now you can't fight?"
Yuki let out an enraged shout and snapped up his hands, knocking aside the arms that pinned him in place. Kyo toppled forward, struggling to keep his balance—and suddenly he was staring up at the ceiling with Yuki sitting on his chest, his wrists locked above his head in an iron grip.
"I'm the one who's liked by everyone?" Yuki shouted, his voice almost unrecognizable in its rage. "You come shoving your way into my life, into my school, and within a day, you make more friends than I've had in my entire life. You can say whatever you want, be rude and unpleasant and everyone loves you for it! Honda-san loves you for it!" Something crumpled in his face, and he suddenly looked tired and small. "What does it matter if people worship and respect me?" he whispered. "It's you they love."
The breath seemed caught somewhere between his throat and his lungs. For a long moment, all he could do was lie there and stare up at Yuki, seeing for the first time the loneliness etched in his perfect features, the well of self-loathing in his eyes.
Before he could figure out what to say, Yuki let out a weary breath and let his head hang down, his grip on Kyo's wrists loosening. "It's easy to hate you," he murmured, and although he could have broken free, Kyo found himself staying where he was, lying there with Yuki's weight pressing down on him. "It's better to hate you. Then I don't…I don't want what you have as much. Then I'm not so…jealous of you."
Yuki? Jealous? Of him?
He couldn't help it; he laughed. At Yuki's angry, confused look, he shook his head. "It's just…it's just so…stupid," he managed. "You have everything I could ever… You have everything. And you want what I have?" He laughed again, surprised at how good it felt.
"What about you?" Yuki asked with a roll of his eyes. "Baka neko. Trying so hard to be a part of this twisted family. You're lucky to be out of it."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure I'll feel really lucky when they lock me away."
"At least you'll have had eighteen years of being free," Yuki said quietly. "I've had none."
While the words were still echoing in his ears, Yuki moved silently off of him and went to sit in the corner.
Kyo lay there on his back for awhile, staring at the ceiling with a thousand conflicting thoughts spinning through his mind. Finally, he sighed and sat up, and with only a moment of hesitation, crawled over to sit next to Yuki. They sat in silence for a time. Then Yuki glanced over at him, and for once, there was none of that cool, distant anger in his expression.
"Your troubles won't end if you're accepted into the zodiac, you know. As it is now, you can do what you want, say what you want—and even though Akito has some hold over you, he doesn't own you. You can be free."
Kyo shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "I'm not free. Not with this always hanging over my head. You'd think it'd make me appreciate stuff more—enjoy it while I have it or something. But it just makes everything seem more pointless. I mean, why even let me go to school? Why let me go through all this, make friends, have a life…when it's just going to be taken away?"
Her face flashed in front of his eyes, big blue eyes and a soft, happy smile, and something deep in his chest began to ache.
He shook his head again and sighed, wondering what the world had come to, cat confiding in rat—rat looking on with an interested, sympathetic expression. Like he understood.
Like they were friends.
With an effort, he shook himself and got to his feet, careful not to hit his head on the ceiling again. "I'm gonna try to get some sleep," he said, and retreated to the opposite corner. "Wake me up if anything interesting happens."
Yuki made a vague noise of agreement, and Kyo curled up on the floor, pillowing his head on his arm. He expected to lie awake for awhile—despite how long it seemed like they'd been in here, it couldn't be much later than nine or ten at night. But before he knew it, he was drifting, fading…
And then the nightmares came.
