ii. the calm before the storm

At nineteen, Souma Yuki was still a heartbreaker. Since entering university, he had taken to wearing clothes that could have hung in any teenage boy's closet: jeans with large, deep pockets, that somewhat concealed his slender build, t-shirts with the names and logos of American bands splayed over them, baggy plaid overshirts with the sleeves rolled up. Sometimes he stood before the bathroom mirror in his room at the Souma House, and assumed the carelessly angry pose that had once been Kyo's. He never could pull it off that well. But it was as close to bringing the cat back as he could get, and it made him feel somehow less accountable.

Behind the mathematical figures, the foreign phrases, the history and the science that all freshman were required to learn, Yuki's mind was preoccupied with two things: one was Tohru, whose image grew more hazy as the days became years, though he never completely stopped feeling the pain of her absence and all of the things he had never had the chance to tell her.

The other was Kyo.

Yuki, wisely avoiding the gaggle of female librarians and patrons who were known to frequent the lobby of the library, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Prince (as he was still called, much to his chagrine), entered the libary through a side entrance and took the stairs. He had long ago learned that crowded elevators and the Souma family curse didn't mix.

The third floor was mostly nonfiction, and he walked blindly among the shelves, not bothering to check what section he was in, only satisfied when he had reached a place that seemed completely deserted. He was pleasantly surprised to find himself in a dusty poetry section. Among the kanji, he picked out a few English authors. He settled for Mathias Church, whom he didn't entirely despise, and sat upon the carpet, back resting against the book spines. He left the collection of poems by Church open on his lap.

He was responsible, really, for what had happened to Kyo and Tohru. This thought had not just occured to him; he had dwelt on it every day since the day Akito ordered Tohru's memories swept clean and Kyo put in confinement.

If only he had voluntarily given in to Kyo...if only he had realized what a fool he was being, trying to keep the stupid balance, trying to beat the cat like the rat was supposed to.

And, as was often the case when he thought of Kyo, Yuki thought of human bones. The bones of a warrior priest that had been crafted into the beads Kyo always used to wear...and probably still wore. A protective charm built on the sacrifice of others.

"It halted his transformations," Yuki murmured aloud. "So why not..."

Why not the juunishi transformation?

Why not?

It wasn't like he'd had any chance to experiment. Akito kept pretty close tabs on him, and he could just imagine himself going to his advisors about this particular problem. "Excuse me, but I need a female to embrace me so that I can see whether or not this charm will prevent me from turning into a rat."

No, that wouldn't go over too well.

Yuki had never been too clear about what charms had been put on the beads, anyway; he didn't know where to start. THe person he really needed to talk to was Kyo. But he hadn't seen Kyo since his confinement. No one had, except Akito. Yuki wondered if Kyo had gone mad yet.

Maybe it was time to stop being a coward, he thought. Maybe it was time to make up for the past failure of courage. And maybe he could even find Tohru...

And say what?

He sighed and buried his face in his hands.

The person to ask was Haru, he decided at some length. And, now that he was making crazy plans...

Manabe-san.

"An outsider?" Haru queried dubiously when Yuki next visited the Souma Complex. The two of them sat by the lake, Haru thunking stones into the water (he called this 'skipping' them, though he and Yuki had severely different points of view as to what consisted of skipping). Yuki still had the Mathias Church book, which he had checked out from the library. He didn't really think too much of the poetry. But it was good to pretend to be concentrating on, as he was doing now.

"Well, he is majoring in religion and theology at the same university as me," Yuki explained. "Who better to analyze the charms on the beads once we get ahold of them?"

"...How do you know so much about him?" Haru poked Yuki teasingly.

Yuki sweatdropped. "He e-mails me," he muttered. "Constantly. About every incident in his life. I think he still considers himself as my subordinate, and therefore has to keep me updated...or something like that. I didn't really understand it when he explained it to me." Yuki coughed. "Shouldn't you be asking me how exactly we're going to get the beads from that cat?"

"Yeah. That," said Haru lazily.

"He's kept somewhere near the center of the complex," Yuki said hesitantly. "I think. And of course Akito is the only one who ever sees him...but even Akito can't be on guard every second of the day. It might simply be a matter of observation...we can find out when Kyo is left alone, and we can get in there ourselves."

"You think no one's tried that, yet?"

Yuki looked at Haru with some surprise. He saw that the Ox was teasing him, and relaxed a little. Haru hadn't changed at all.

"Who on earth would want to find Kyo? Besides us, I mean."

"Besides us and god...no one would dare." Haru smirked. "You know I'd drive through hell in an ice-cream truck for you, Yuki."

Yuki smiled.

Manabe-san was fairly easy to locate. Yuki suspected that the boy had been waiting for him to give in and visit him at the dorms. Having never lived on campus (this university had been chosen specifically for its proximity to the Souma grounds), Yuki would have become lost had not Manabe-kun been waiting by the staircase on the ground floor.

"Ah, Yuki-chan!" Manabe rushed forward and clapped Yuki on the shoulder zealously. He had grown so much...taller, Yuki noticed weakly. It was like meeting with a very large, very sly dog (who was nonetheless very happy to see you). "Still Pink, I see."

Yuki growled low in his throat. He took this to mean that he had not entirely lost his slightly (okay, rather) feminine build. Manabe was definitely still Black. He was even dressed all in it. It reminded Yuki sharply of Tohru's friend Hanajime-san.

"Let me take you out to dinner." When Yuki eyed him doubtfully, Manabe simply grinned. "For old time's sake. It's not everyday that the (former) President and Vice President join forces to battle the evils of a college campus, now is it?"

"...Manabe-san, what are you talking about?" Yuki shook his head. Here was another person who had not changed at all.

"I'm talking about oppression! Injustice! And Hunger! Mostly Hunger!" With every word, Manabe-san stabbed a forefinger in the air. They were beginning to attract strange looks. Yuki hastilly accepted Manabe's invitation to dinner.

He regretted it even before they stepped foot in Manabe's favorite "restaurant", which happened to be Wacdonald's. Manabe took a random customer for a maitre d', asking for a seat in the nonsmoking section and saying that he didn't want his coat folded (he was making to hand it to the man, but Yuki put his martial arts skills to the test by grabbing it in midair). At the counter, Manabe gave the cashier a ridiculously detailed order. Yuki felt so guilty that he only ordered a salad and a bottled water.

"Trying to lose those hips, Yuki-chan?" Manabe questioned loudly.

Yuki would have killed him had there not been so many witnesses.

"Listen, Manabe-san," Yuki said forcefully, trying to appear fierce over his salad.

"Ah ah ah!" Manabe scolded. "Call me Kakeru-kun."

"When pig's fly," Yuki assured him. "I came to ask for your help, not your eccentricities."

"You're absolutely no fun at all, Yuki-chan." Manabe laughed. "But what could this humble servant do for the Prince?"

So Yuki, despite his annoyance, laid it out for him.

Nightfall usually found Yuki kneeling by the door leading the Akito's quarters, his thoughts miles away. He liked to rewind his day, remember the lectures he'd listened to, tests he needed to study for, papers he had to write, people he had to see. People he wanted to see. Homework that he wouldn't get to until late.

Kureno, blank-faced, was the one who usually let him in. It was no different tonight. Yuki bowed slightly and entered, barely sparing a glance for the beautiful room and the last rays of sunlight filtering in. He focused completely on Akito, on concealing his true emotions, on appearing to enjoy these visits. The last never worked, but it helped distract Akito from what Yuki really didn't want him to see.

"Akito-san," Yuki said softly. "A pleasure, as always." He almost choked on this, thinking, 'Where are you keeping him? What have you done with him?'

"Weak sentiments, Yuki-kun, for one in the presence of his master," Akito observed absently.

Yuki grimaced. He couldn't quite manage blind devotion. He was working on it.

"Forgive me," Yuki said. "I've been...ill lately."

"Again?" Akito seemed bemused. "Such a frail little rat..." Yuki just managed not to flinch when Akito's fingertips brushed across his face, tracing his cheekbones to his hair. "Is the university becoming too much for you?"

"Any place without your presence is too much," Yuki lied.

"I know." Akito smiled, gratified, though Yuki could tell that he didn't buy it.

He wasn't entirely sure that Akito hadn't picked up on what was going on between Yuki and Haru--the plans had been laid out discreetly but perhaps not discreetly enough. It seemed to Yuki that Akito had eyes and ears everywhere.

But he dreamed of it. Every night. In shades of brown, like muddy water. He was in the room where Kyo was kept, and there were no windows. Akito would not have allowed sky-loving Kyo the luxury of the outside world, even a part of it uninhabited by anything other than trees. The floor was always raw, unsanded wood, for some reason, and in his dream he could imagine that Kyo would have tried to keep himself in shape and his martial arts forms sharp; he would have suffered innumerable splinters to accomplish this, until his feet were too ragged to hold him. And he would have let them scab over, and then he would have tried again. And again. Giving up was not something Kyo was used to, and the pain would have grounded him into the present, given him something to measure himself up against.

In the dream, Kyo was concealed by black curtains, and the closer Yuki got to them, the further away they seemed. He was barefoot; he could hear Kyo telling him to be careful of the splinters, calling him an idiot for even trying...

He woke up in a cold sweat.

The sun had not risen yet. Yuki sighed and pulled himself out from under the damp covers. He did not think he would be able to get back to sleep.

And today was the day.