Momoshiro had felt an odd tingling down his spine moments after Ryoma had left the room, but he thought nothing of it. After all, the bathroom was the door on the immediate right of theirs. How hard could it be to find? At worst, Ryoma would have to try all the doors before getting to the toilet. He wondered which of the rooms had been left unlocked today.

I wonder if he'll find that one…

"Stop looking so worried, Momoshiro," Eiji said, trying to ease the wrinkles from Momoshiro's brow. "He'll be fine. The toilet's only next door."

Kawamura came in only a few minutes later, carrying a tray laden with drinks. He cheerfully handed them out, passing Momoshiro his refill and patting his hand reassuringly. Momoshiro tried to smile, but truthfully, in barely a few scant hours, he'd grown used to having Ryoma's annoying presence around him. It was, after all, something familiar.

For a moment, while Ryoma was still out hunting for the lavatory, Momoshiro felt another strange feeling, but this one was…pleasant. It felt soothing, like a wave of water slowly lapping away at the edges of his mind, cleansing it of his worries. It felt so nice.

That feeling lasted a minute or so, and then was slowly, gradually replaced by fear and dread. Momoshiro tried to assure himself that he was just being paranoid, but when he found himself gripping his empty glass so tightly that the glass was beginning to crack, he stood up and said, "Fuji, something's not right."

At the exact same time, Fuji opened his startlingly blue eyes and said, in his calmest, smoothest, and most deadly voice, "Momoshiro, get Ryoma."

Momoshiro wrenched the door open, not caring that he almost tore the hinges from their sockets. When Fuji said something like that, and in that tone of voice, it meant that something was horribly wrong. He felt like there was lead in his stomach.

Something was very, very wrong.

The doors were all closed, and then he felt the waves of emotion flooding his senses from the archway. And a terrified voice whimpered in his head.

You promised…so where are you now?

Oh, kami-sama… Ryoma! He was in the main club area in a blink of an eye. Literally. And then he saw the man on Ryoma, and his vision turned flat and grey, and suddenly, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

He leapt forward with a feral snarl and wrenched the man off, hurling him into the far wall. He let his glance linger there long enough to make sure the fallen man would stay fallen while he checked on Ryoma. He crouched down, and willed his eyes to return to normal.

"Ryoma?" He said softly. "Hey, Ryoma?"

Ryoma simply stared at him, eyes blank, shivering. He looked down absently at his partially-opened shirt and weakly grasped its edges closed. "M-Momoshiro?" He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, you okay, Ryoma?"

"I'm cold." Ryoma shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He managed not to flinch when Momoshiro touched his shoulder tentatively. And then he was enveloped in a gentle, warm hug.

"Don't worry. I'll kill him if you want me to. It's over now, you're safe." Momoshiro kissed the top of Ryoma's head tenderly. "You're always safe around me, you know that." He tightened his hug ever so slightly. "You know that."

"I know…" He heard the faint reply.

Momoshiro felt a faint shudder run through Ryoma's body. At first he thought Ryoma was still cold, but then he felt the smaller hands clutching his shirt tightly, felt Ryoma's entire body trembling.

"Shh, it's okay, Ryoma. Even if he's not dead now, he will be, when I'm done with him. It's okay now."

The tremors eventually lessened into occasional hiccupping shudders, and Momoshiro rubbed his back in slow circles, murmuring soft words of comfort to him, as well as assurance of impending doom to the man who had assaulted him. And then Ryoma pushed back a little bit to look up slightly at Momoshiro. Staring at Momoshiro's collar through tear-filled eyes, he managed a shadow of his usual scowl.

"He knocked my cap off," Ryoma muttered in a shaky voice. "That bastard."

Momoshiro grinned. "I think you look pretty cute without it on."

"I am not cute," Ryoma protested weakly. "I hate it when people call me cute."

"Face it, Ryoma. You are. Look up for a sec, will you?" Momoshiro stroked his hair gently. "Look at me?" He was pleasantly surprised when Ryoma did as told. His heart ached when he saw those normally stubborn golden eyes filled with tears and red-rimmed from crying. The dull shields were gone, and Momoshiro could see every hint of vulnerability and shame, as well as the lingering vestiges of fear.

He stroked his thumb over Ryoma's cheek, wiping away some of the tears dampening the soft skin. "Let me bring you to a quieter place for you to wash up a bit, get yourself back together."

Ryoma thought for a moment, and then nodded his head. "Okay."

Momoshiro cradled Ryoma in his arms and carried the surprised boy back beyond the velvet curtains. The others would take care of things until Ryoma was feeling a bit better. He caught Fuji's eye, and he nodded slightly, before returning to rounding up all the club's guests. Yes, the others would take care of things, and clean up the mess.

They'd also help him secure the bastard who had foolishly tried to claim somebody who was already taken.

Once in the circular chamber, Ryoma was surprised when Momoshiro strode to the door which led to his favourite room. Momoshiro set him down on the futon and shut the door.

"Do you like this room?" Ryoma nodded, with a hint of a smile. "Good," Momoshiro replied with a satisfied grin. "Because it's mine."

"What?" Ryoma blinked, very confused.

"Tezuka and Fuji own this place—although Inui might have a share it in too. We're allowed to decorate our rooms in any way we want to. This reminded me of…home."

"You're not from Japan?" Ryoma was even more confused now. Momoshiro seemed as Japanese as Japan could be. Except maybe his eyes. Purple wasn't very common a natural eye colour in Japan. And there was no way contacts could look that natural. Or that beautiful…

Stop thinking weird shit like that! It's just the shock, it's just the shock, it's just the shock…

"Sure I am, just…never mind." Momoshiro stood up and walked over to where a small basin sat on a shelf. He filled it with water from the small stream, and then set it down before Ryoma. "It's clean." He passed a pale blue face towel to Ryoma. "Here, you can give your face a wipe with this." He further tousled Ryoma's mussed up hair. "I'll leave you alone for awhile, is that okay?"

"Yeah." He looked up at Momoshiro with a faint smile. "Um… Thanks, for everything."

"No problem. It's…it's my fault anyway, since I was the one who dragged you here. I'm sorry. You don't have to come here again if you don't want to." Momoshiro was almost out the door when he heard a soft voice reply, almost a whisper.

"Then I'd never be able to sit in this room again. It's okay, I don't really mind this place."

Momoshiro could only stand and smile. "You're always welcome here," he eventually said. "I'll leave for awhile now. If you feel tired or anything, just go sleep. I'll be back for you."

And with that, he left, leaving Ryoma alone. Ryoma felt the loss immediately, but instantly, the warmth of the room, its tranquillity, enveloped him like a hug, creating a buffer between him and the fear that that threatened to return in Momoshiro's absence.

He washed his face with the icy water, which helped reduce the problem of red-rimmed, puffy eyes that usually accompanied a bout of crying. He tried just resting there for awhile, but he soon felt restless. However, he had learnt his lesson on wandering around in this club, and so, remained in Momoshiro's room. He did, however, take the chance to explore the room a bit, and poke around in the drawers, shelves, and miscellaneous decorative items, all the while waiting for Momoshiro to come back for him.

Like he'd promised.

After leaving Ryoma in the safety of his room, Momoshiro stalked back to the main lounge area, where he was sure his friends had corralled and detained the patrons. The calm and gentleness that had returned upon affirmation of Ryoma's safety quickly faded, and the burning fury descended once more. His eyes, already relatively odd in its normal jewelled hue, sparked with rage, a faint glow projecting from a dark core.

Eiji was patiently waiting there with Oishi and Kawamura. That he wasn't bouncing off the walls like he normally would be revealed just how serious he was being, and just how serious the current situation was. Such incidences had happened before, but rarely so, and even then, never with one of their own. There was no way any of them were going to casually mark this off as a one-time freak happening. An example would have to be made. Just to make sure nothing like this happened ever again.

"Eiji," he said, tone silky soft, lethal.

"Ah, Momo, how is he?" Eiji asked, his voice neutral, knowing how volatile Momoshiro's temper could be when he was angered.

"He's calmed down." Momoshiro ran his fingers through his spiky hair in agitation. "Things were going so well until… I'll kill him, I swear I will, Eiji. That piece of shit made him cry. Ryoma doesn't cry just like that. He never did, and something like the passage of time will not have changed that!" He fisted his other hand. "He dared to even touch Ryoma… Where is he?"

"Fuji and Tezuka have him secured in that room. Inui and Kaidoh are there too, not that Fuji or Tezuka really need additional assistance."

"I'm sure you and Oishi and Taka-san can handle it here. What does Fuji want to do with them?"

Eiji shrugged. "He just said to keep them here until you were done settling Ochibi down, and to go find him."

Momoshiro nodded and went off towards the room that they all never specifically named.

It was dark, in that room. If a classy nightclub could have a dungeon, this was exactly what it was, and what it looked like. It was located deep beneath the actual club, and its walls were completely soundproof. Three of the four walls were painted plain charcoal grey, but the forth wall had been left white. Rather, it had once been white, but was now irreversibly stained in certain areas with patches of rust-brown. The colour covered the entire wall in splotches of all patterns and sizes. There were tiny, mist-fine specks, and then there were vivid sprays that arced almost the entire length of the wall. There were also huge splatters of it just…there.

Had a normal person come across that wall, he or she would have found it interesting, maybe even an energetic work of art. But Momoshiro knew what it really was, and just how most of those stains had arisen. It normally chilled him to his bones just thinking about that room, but for the first time in his life, he felt nothing but grim pleasure as he entered it. He didn't even bother knocking. He knew Tezuka and Fuji would both gladly overlook it this time round, especially Fuji.

He saw, firmly chained to the stained wall, the man who had been molesting Ryoma, and he cracked his knuckles absently. And then he saw Fuji, casually lounging in a plush, velvet armchair, with Tezuka leaning against one overstuffed arm of the chair. "Saa, Momo's here, Tezuka," Fuji drawled, still not moving from his spot.

"Thanks for helping me out," Momoshiro said solemnly to them.

"Something like this can't go unpunished," Tezuka replied, his voice the same stern, indifferent tone that he used normally.

"What happens now?" Momoshiro asked Fuji.

"Ah, I forget that you hadn't yet joined us on all the other times we'd had to use this room. You aren't the first of us to need this room for such a purpose, Momo, but it has been quite awhile since the last time." Fuji smiled, like they were discussing the latest tournament over a glass of iced tea.

"Fuji…"

"Mou, always so impatient, Tezuka…" Fuji reach up and back to touch Tezuka's arm lightly. "What you want to do, Momo, is entirely up to you. He violated what was yours. Tezuka and I are only here to make sure things don't get out of control. Inui will be back shortly. I sent him and Kaidoh to fetch a few items that I thought might…suit your tastes."

"So I can do anything I want to him?"

"Go ahead. Kill him straight out if you want, but that's no fun at all." Fuji's smile became predatory. "Toy with him a bit, make him realise what a big mistake he made in touching your little boy. Make him pay dearly for making Ryoma cry." He shrugged. "I could help you come up with a few ideas, but really, I'm sure you'd prefer to do things your way."

"Just try not to go overboard. We keep that wall unpainted for a reason, but I'd prefer the grey walls to remain relatively pristine. Fuji or I will step in if needed, but I think you'll know when to stop," Tezuka told him.

Just then, the door opened, and Inui strolled in, Kaidoh following behind him. Inui held a pewter flask in one hand, and his secret book in the other, while Kaidoh carried an innocuous black enamelled chest.

"Just set it on that table over there, Kaidoh-kun," Inui said, as he passed the flask over to Fuji.

Fuji removed the stopper from the mouth of the flask and sniffed its contents. He dipped a fingertip inside delicately and licked the trace of fluid away, while Inui stood there waiting, like a chef waiting for feedback on a new dish. And then Fuji smiled.

"Delicious, Inui. You've fixed the proportions just right this time." He handed the flask back to Inui, who grinned, light flashing off his glasses. "This should work just fine…"

Inui then strode over to Momoshiro, who was staring dubiously at the flask. There weren't many things that could make him afraid, but Inui's concoctions were definitely on his 'to fear' list. Especially if Fuji approved of them.

"Don't worry," Inui replied knowingly. "It's not for you. This is my contribution. Use it if you like. It's new, and it would be nice if you could help me test it out. Just don't give it to him in large quantities. Nothing more than a shot, or else…well, it won't be as enjoyable. It can be consumed, or it can also be absorbed by mucous membranes, and…well, just use it creatively. That would please Fuji too, I think."

"If it had been anyone else, I might have argued using your drinks as harsh, but he deserves it," Momoshiro snarled. "Thanks."

"My pleasure." He then slipped Momoshiro a small vial. "I think you know what this is. You know what to do with it, don't you?"

Momoshiro snorted. "Obviously." His small grin turned feral, which surprised Inui. He'd never seen this much malice in Momoshiro's eyes before. It would seem that Ryoma had produced several rather interesting changes in his collection of data. And of course, he'd have to record down the boy's data as well… So many things to do, but he had all the time in the world. He set the flask down on the table with the chest and various other implements.

Kaidoh finished setting up the table and various equipment on it, beneath it, and around it. And then he walked over. Momoshiro expected a snide comment or something just as irritating, but Kaidoh merely made his trademark hissing sound and muttered, "Ryoma's a good kid. Take care of him well. Protect him well." And then he disappeared deeper into the shadows, where Inui was hidden.

Momoshiro nodded, and almost smiled. It would seem that even his rival knew when to lay off the teasing. He strode over to the light control panel and flicked a few switches on. The lights closest to the white wall came on, blinding Momoshiro for a brief moment, before his eyes adapted to the brightness. He wanted his captive to see and understand what he had gotten himself into. But he left the back half of the room dark, with only one light switched on at minimum brightness.

He slowly walked over to his victim, his features twisted in a vicious snarl. "Do you know who you touched? Do you?" Momoshiro brought one hand up and grabbed hold of the chained man's chin. What had once been a fingernail seemed more like a claw now, and he touched the point of that claw into the soft flesh just beneath his jaw. He pressed, and it punctured skin. Blood began to bead from the tiny prick.

"He's mine, you fool. You even saw me bring him in." Momoshiro dragged the claw down towards his thick neck, and blood welled in its wake. "I'll bet you just assumed that he was only a plaything. You've lost respect for us. He's not a plaything, but even if he was…" Momoshiro suddenly had his hand around the man's neck, this thumb on the man's carotid pulse. "He's mine, and what makes you think that I share?" He pressed the wickedly sharp claw on his thumb against that rapidly beating spot, breath hot in the man's face. "You held him like this, said you'd mark him right there. All I'd have to do is dig in, and you'd be dead. So easy."

He released the pressure slightly. "I'm not letting you off that easily. We're going to play for awhile first, just like you played with him, and then, I'll have my fun, since that's what you would've loved to have done with him. Only, you'll last so much longer than he would have. You see, it's never really been formally tested, but I've seen enough to know how long you should be able to last, and I have certain…items that could prolong that time." He ran his handful of claws slowly down the length of his neck and rested for a moment just above the breastbone. And then he dug a bit deeper and raked his claws down in a straight downwards slash.

He only elicited a furious growl, but Momoshiro smiled. "Don't worry. I'm nowhere as good as Fuji or Inui, which is why I'll have so much fun experimenting on what works best." He made another slash, a diagonal one from the left shoulder to right hip. "I'll make sure you don't miss out on the fun. I'll have you screaming soon enough…"

Ryoma shifted slightly in his sleep, and then gradually surfaced from slumber. He blinked owlishly, forgetting for a moment where he was. It was dark. He heard a faint rustling of clothes. Who was there!

"Sshh, it's only me," a soft voice said. "I switched the lights off when I found you asleep. Do you want me to turn it back on?"

Ryoma sat up and ran his fingers through his sleep-messed hair. "Give me a moment." He stretched and yawned, and then sighed with contentment. "Okay, hit the lights."

The lights came on, but just enough for him to see, and not to blind. Ryoma looked around the dimly-lit room for Momoshiro and found him standing by one shelf. His hair looked a bit ruffled, as did his clothes. Wait. There was something on his clothes.

"Ryoma."

He flew to his feet and ran to Momoshiro, panic in his eyes. "Where is it? What did he do?"

Slightly confused, Momoshiro looked down and frantic golden eyes. "Huh?"

"There's blood on you." Ryoma touched Momoshiro's sleeves and one side of his shirt. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Momoshiro tried to laugh it off, but the laugh came off as too fake to fool anyone.

"Your hands," Ryoma mumbled.

Momoshiro looked down at his hands and his eyes widened with horror as he noticed just how much blood covered him. No. No! He can't see me like this!

"Are you bleeding?"

"It's not my blood," Momoshiro finally said. "I'm fine, Ryoma."

"Oh." Ryoma walked away, and didn't see Momoshiro's violet eyes darken. But he only headed for the wash basin and cloth, and brought it back to Momoshiro. He tugged Momoshiro into sitting on the floor, and then he began to wash the dried blood away from Momoshiro's hands. "What did you do to him?"

For a while, Momoshiro found himself unable to speak. He was lost in the all-too-familiar memory of having his skin carefully washed. Ryoma noted the silence, and didn't say anything else. He finished cleaning Momoshiro's hands, then continued up his forearms, where the blood stained past his elbows.

"Is there a first-aid kit here?" He asked, as he wiped the crusted blood off gently.

"Why?"

"You skinned your knuckles, and they might get infected. It's best to prevent that." Ryoma tipped the red-stained water away, and refilled the basin with fresh water from the stream. Then he returned to Momoshiro's side and continued washing the remaining blood off. He tipped out the bloody water a final time, and brought back fresh water for one last rinse. And then he touched a fingertip hesitantly to Momoshiro's scraped knuckles.

"Does it hurt?"

And Momoshiro smiled tenderly down at the tousled mop of dark hair before him. "No," he replied honestly. "Not a bit." Pain didn't exist when Ryoma held his hands so gently.

"Do you have any bandages or antiseptic? It would suck if your hands got infected because of me."

"Don't have one. Don't need it," Momoshiro shrugged casually. He stood up and gazed down at Ryoma. "Ryoma…"

The golden-eyed boy simply inclined his head slightly upwards, to indicate that he'd heard Momoshiro. But he didn't say a word, and Momoshiro sighed. Why couldn't it have happened at a later stage, when he had already bound Ryoma to him? He cursed mentally.

"Now you know what kind of person I am… Are you afraid of me?"

"Of course not!" Came Ryoma's instant reply, accompanied with a sharp glare. But then he looked back down. "Maybe a little," he muttered after a bit of thought.

"You never have to be afraid of me, Ryoma. I promise you that."

Ryoma did eventually look up at him. His large eyes were even wider as he spoke. "Who are you? Who are all of you?" He snorted softly. "At first, I thought you all were just some random bunch of tennis players, then I thought you were a biker gang, and now…I don't know what I think you all are." He glanced at the basin of water.

"So much blood… You really did kill him, didn't you?" He asked quietly.

"I said I would."

"But did you?"

There was silence for a very long, pregnant moment, but Momoshiro eventually sighed. It was best to tell the kid the truth. He ought to at least know what he'd gotten himself into. "Yes, I killed him."

"Oh."

Momoshiro bent down with annoyance. "Is that all you can say? I've just admitted to murder and you react like I've just told you that the Ponta vending machine is empty."

Ryoma turned his eyes on Momoshiro, their champagne depths shimmering with confusion, apprehension, and a bit of uncertainty. "How else would you prefer me to act?" He scowled. "Did you expect me to run out of this room shrieking like some crazed girl!"

Momoshiro chuckled at that mental image of Ryoma in pigtails, hightailing it out of the room as fast as his, or rather, her short feet could manage. "I think Fuji would sooner admit to being a weakling than you shriek." He ruffled Ryoma's already messy hair. "There's something about us that I'm not particularly comfortable with telling you right now. Give me awhile, okay?"

The air was thick with tension. Momoshiro hadn't felt anything like it for a very long time. But then Ryoma gave him a half-smile. "Don't make me wait too long. I might give up and just leave."

"I'll hunt you down," Momoshiro retorted back, a wide grin on his face. He stood up with a bounce. "Come on," he said, holding a hand out to Ryoma. "The others must be wondering if I've eaten you up."

"Don't be ridiculous." But Ryoma took his proffered hand, and Momoshiro tugged him to his feet.

Kaidoh took one end of the clear plastic sheet and let Inui handle the other end. "What do you want us to do with this?" He asked Fuji, since Tezuka didn't seem to particularly care about matters like this.

Fuji smiled, his eyes shut in a gentle smile. Kaidoh knew otherwise. And he also knew that if Fuji opened those eyes, he'd see death itself reflected in those fathomless ocean-blue depths. "Bring it out, for the time being."

Kaidoh merely nodded and started for the door.

"Let's follow them out, Tezuka," Fuji murmured, tugging gently on Tezuka's sleeve, smiling innocently. But Tezuka, of all people, could see through the angelic façade, and he raised one brow in query.

"You're the one who enjoys terrorising people, don't drag me into this," he replied in his never-changing solemn voice.

But Fuji, too, knew Tezuka too well for Tezuka's own comfort, and he laughed. "What a lie…" He tugged Tezuka down and brushed his lips over the outer edge of Tezuka's ear. "You enjoy scaring them as much as I do, and you know it." He hopped nimbly out of the armchair, and led Tezuka out of the grisly chamber. "This is so much fun," he sighed with pleasure.

They caught up to Kaidoh and Inui just as the pair entered the main lounge area once more, where the remaining patrons had been gathered. Rather like sheep to the slaughter. There was no sound as Kaidoh and Inui lowered the plastic-wrapped bundle to the polished floor. The blood was visible through the clear plastic, and that was precisely the reason why Fuji had gotten them to use it in the first place. Their task done, they let Fuji address the crowd.

"I'm so disappointed in all of you," he told them, voice still placid, pleasant. "We open our doors to you and this is how you treat a member of our circle." He wagged a finger in chastisement. "I'm afraid I can't let this slide. It was most ill-mannered of Kawaguchi-san to try anything with Ryoma-kun, and of course, we've taken it upon ourselves to teach him a bit of a lesson. I'd let all of you go, but the thing is…you were all going to join in his little party, and I find that totally unacceptable." He shrugged. "And Kawaguchi-san has simply put me in a bad mood."

He smiled at them, his smile bright and cheery, and his smile didn't waver, even as some of them began to edge towards the exit. He simply kept on smiling. And it was only after door after door in the establishment slammed shut and locked itself, and the sound of doors banging and metallic clicking filled the air that his smile took on a more predatory gleam.

"Saa, let the party begin," he murmured.