They walked back towards the main lounge, where Momoshiro was sure they'd e waiting. He'd left immediately after his kill, never having been one to truly enjoy bloodshed. Fuji had assure him that the body would be taken care of. In fact, Fuji had been the one to all but chase him out and back to Ryoma.

He knew Eiji would be worried about Ryoma—that was one reason why he was especially fond of the bouncy redhead. He walked into the chamber, Ryoma in tow, and froze. His eyes grew wide, even as the rest of him stiffened in shock. And then horror. And then he remembered the boy beside him and immediately shielded Ryoma from the view. But the frantic struggles proved that he'd been too late. Ryoma had seen too much.

"Ryoma, stop it!" He tried to crush Ryoma to him, in an attempt to quell his struggles, as well as to just feel the way their bodies fit, for the last time. "Please don't…Ryoma, stop struggling!"

Ryoma managed to pull away long enough to deliver a solid punch to Momoshiro's jaw, and reeling from the pure surprise, Momoshiro loosened his grip, giving Ryoma that much needed moment to escape.

"RYOMA!"

Ryoma felt his fist plow into Momoshiro, and for a fraction of a second, he himself was surprised. He'd never hit anyone before. But then his brain kicked into gear and he ran back into the round chamber with all the rooms. He knew it wasn't exactly the smartest place to run into, but if he'd gone the other way, he'd simply have been running straight into a massacre. And, most likely, his own death.

You idiot… You've seen way too much already. There's no way they'll let you live anyway. They'll find you, and they'll kill you, just like they were doing with the others in that lounge.

There had to be a place where he could hide, where they wouldn't think of looking for him. Momoshiro's room would be the first place they'd look, since it was a familiar location. The toilet would just be stupid. Ryoma had watched enough horror movies during that period he had lived in America to know that the ones stupid enough to hide in the toilet always got killed first.

But it was only a matter of time… And from what he'd seen, they probably had all the time in the world.

Kami-sama, I don't want to die!

Ryoma knew he only had a few more seconds before they came after him. On an impulse, he ran to a random door, yanked it open—surprised that it could even open—and ducked inside, shutting it carefully behind him, before twisting the lock. He sighed with temporary relief. Now all he had to do was find a closet or something to hide in until…well, until he was found.

But when he looked around, he realized that the room was pitch black. He found himself shivering, both from the bone-chilling cold that seemed to permeate his body, and from the sense of terror that the very air seemed to project. He slid his hands along the wall, feeling for a light switch, for something to light up the room, but there was none.

Damn, I wished I smoked, then I'd have a lighter or some matched with me.

Ryoma continued searching for a switch until he bumped into thing. He touched it. Hard, cold, smooth…metal? They felt like poles, and as he felt his way along the length of it, he decided it was probably something along the lines of a bed. He considered hiding beneath it, but not being able to see what was there…some people threw the weirdest stuff beneath their beds. He was about to walk back to the wall, when he heard a faint chuckle. He froze, like a rabbit before the barrel of a hunter's rifle.

Where was it coming from? It sounded so close.

And then he heard it again.

His head whipped from side to side, trying to determine where that soft, sinister sound was coming from. Then, he realized that he was hearing it in his mind. Terrified, he ran towards where he thought the wall was. But it wasn't there. Instead, he tripped over something hard and slammed into something firm, but by no means hard. There was some give to it and, heaven help him, it felt like a human body.

The dark chuckling in is mind grew louder, and he felt a firm pressure, like his head was caught in a vice that was bearing down, slowly, crushing his head. He never knew the exact moment he passed out.

Momoshiro glared at them, his face screwed up in rage and sorrow, unconsciously, his nails had lengthened into claws once more, and when he bared his teeth at them, his canines were inch-long weapons. He didn't care that Fuji could shred him into pieces in a millisecond, if he so wished.

And said person was simply looking back at him, almost disinterestedly, licking up a trail of blood that was winding its way down is index finger.

"We'll find him," Oishi replied, his voice like a calming breeze, the hand he laid on Momoshiro's shoulder firm and comforting, an anchor in a wailing storm. "It'll be okay."

"No, it won't!" Momoshiro whipped around to glare at Oishi. "After seeing this, he'll never want to have anything to do with any of us!" He sank to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest, all his strength and fury draining out of him with defeat. "I was so close… A few more days, I could have made him mine, and it wouldn't have been so bad if he'd hated me forever after that, but at least I would've been able to bind him to me." He looked up at Oishi, amethyst eyes filmed over with red, the corners of his eyes overflowing with the same crimson tears.

"Let's find him first, and we'll see what can be done from there." Oishi bent down, his heart aching for the younger man. He knew the loneliness that was eating away at Momoshiro. Eiji had saved him from it, and he knew that Ryoma could rescue Momoshiro from that dark pit of despair.

"If he won't have you simply because of this, then he isn't who you're searching for, and he's not worth it," Fuji replied, cleaning his hands off on a scrap of someone's cocktail dress. He stood up and glanced down at the corpse at his feet, disdain in his clear, blue eyes. "We'll find him, and we shall see."

The iciness he saw there chilled Momoshiro down to his very soul, and he was suddenly very, very afraid for Ryoma.

"Promise you won't hurt him."

Elegant brows winged with surprise. "Even if he hates you? We can't let him go with this much knowledge. There are very few choices available to him now."

Momoshiro stood up, rising to his full height. He was quite a bit taller than Fuji, but he knew that size meant absolutely nothing in their dark world. Nothing at all. Fuji would crush him like an insect if that was what he wanted to do.

"Don't hurt him." He wasn't stupid enough to dare Fuji not to. That would almost guarantee Ryoma's death.

Fuji only shrugged. When Momoshiro glared at him, "We'll see," was all he said, a cold smile twisting his lips.

With a murmured word, he had the others finishing up with their kills, and cleaning up. And when all of them looked marginally more presentable, they left the lounge—now covered in blood and gore, the floor strewn with bodies.

They knew that there were only so many places for Ryoma to hide. There weren't many doors in that circular chamber, and each of the rooms there had only one doorway. Momoshiro wished that he could just storm into his room and find Ryoma there, but he knew that the boy wasn't stupid enough to hide there.

"Saa, shall we split up and look for the chibi?"

"No!" Momoshiro glanced around, and then realized that he'd been the one to speak. "I mean, it'll be faster if all of us search one room at a time."

"Ah, but there's always that issue of invasion of privacy, Momo," Fuji replied smoothly. "Relax, I said we'd see whether or not anything has to be done to Ryoma. Until then, I don't have a reason to hurt him, ne? Let's just check our own rooms and see if we find him. We can deal with the other rooms after that."

Momoshiro sighed. It would seem that nothing he said was going to make a difference. At any rate, it seemed that Fuji was out of his dark mood, so maybe it would be a little safer for Ryoma. But he never once forgot that Fuji, even in his best mood, could still kill, although with a cheerful smile plastered on his face.

He entered his own room, knowing Ryoma wouldn't be inside. But he felt his heart ache anyway. He shut his eyes and sniffed the air. The air still retained some of the metallic, coppery scent that went hand in hand with blood. But as he sniffed deeper, there was a lingering hint of sweat, and of something that was uniquely Ryoma. He sighed and sank down onto the futon. Perhaps this was kami-sama's way of telling him that Ryoma wasn't meant to be his.

Momoshiro pressed his face to the pillow and breathed in deeply. It smelled the way it was supposed to be—just him and Ryoma, mingled as one.

Maybe I am supposed to leave him alone, but I can't. I won't.

He rose to his feet, and after a brief check through his room, exited it, only to find Kaidoh standing in the circular ante-chamber. He scowled.

"Don't you dare say anything."

"Why would I need to say anything to an oaf like you?" Kaidoh snorted back, clearly annoyed that Momoshiro was using him as a verbal punching bag when he'd been nothing but civil earlier. "You screwed up all by yourself."

Momoshiro opened his mouth to retort, but found himself unable to. "Well, that was harsh," he muttered.

"So what are you going to do now?"

Momoshiro shrugged, unsure of his next course of action as well. "There's no escape for him. Like Fuji said, there aren't many options open to him now."

"And you're just going to leave it at that? Have you even considered his age? How much longer he has to live? How little he's already lived? And you'd let Fuji take it away like that?"

Momoshiro said nothing, which was incriminating in itself. And Kaidoh caught that. With a snarl, he fisted a hand in Momoshiro's collar.

"Because you were going to do that yourself anyway, weren't you?" He shoved Momoshiro back, and had he been a lesser man, or just a normal man, he would have fallen in a heap. But Momoshiro was around the same age as Kaidoh, and their body strength was more or less equal. "You disgust me."

And that had fire sparking in Momoshiro's eyes, hot, angry flashes of startling violet. He leapt to his feet and at Kaidoh.

"Well, that's really easy for you to say, isn't it?" Momoshiro gave his long-time rival a violent push, which had Kaidoh stumbling backwards. "You aren't the one who's spent the past few centuries blisteringly lonely." He shoved Kaidoh back another few steps. "You don't have to spend every night in the dark, with no one by your side to wake you up when the nightmares hit. You don't wake up in terror with no one to tell you everything's okay. And you don't have to live each day wondering if you'll ever find your heart back, because it was ripped out of your chest and thrown into an overflowing river!"

He would have flung a punch had someone not grabbed his arm, and when he spun round to then punch whoever it was, he saw Inui staring back at him.

"Why were you about to punch Kaoru, Momoshiro?" His voice was perfectly neutral, like the dispassionate scientist front that he always wore. But Momoshiro knew better. He'd seen Inui on the man's good days, and his bad days, and both were fearsome.

"Because he was being an asshole and because he grabbed me first." Momoshiro wrenched his arm away and stormed back to his own room. It was his only sanctuary, and the only place were no one would bother him unless he gave them permission to. He kicked the basin on the floor, ignoring the loud clatter as it hit a shelf.

He'd screwed things up so royally. Like Fuji had just reminded them all, once an outsider found out about their little secret, they were forced to take certain…measures. The most obvious option was death. Most things, once killed, couldn't reveal secrets. Another was to make whoever it was into a slave, whether mentally or physically—or both, in certain cases—dependent on its master for survival. The last was to make him or her into one of their own kind.

Choosing any of the options would mean taking Ryoma away from all he knew, and taking him away from his loved ones. But then that insidious little voice inside his head whispered back, a sly, teasing murmur.

But he'll have you, and you love him. He won't be alone, and he'll be protected forever. Who else could give him that, besides you?

But that would be selfish, Momoshiro knew. And in any case, it would be fair to give Ryoma the choice. It was his life, after all.

He's in such a state of shock right now. He's not in any position to make any life-altering decisions. He'd say 'no' and what would that leave you? An empty existence, waiting for another eternity, waiting for another chance that may or may not come. Seize the opportunity. You know they all would, if they were in your position.

Momoshiro was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place, and he had no idea what he'd decide, when the time came for him to choose Ryoma's 'sentence', as it were to be.

There was no letting Ryoma go free. He would have to be under their watch for as long as he lived, to ensure that he didn't tell anyone of their existence. Momoshiro could make the boy his willing slave, he knew. He'd seen others do it before. But there would be no point in having a brainwashed doll cater to his every whim. It wasn't what he wanted.

Ryoma had a vibrancy that was so alive and reminiscent of true life, and a glow about him Momoshiro could only revel in. And just being around the boy, just talking to him, brought him back to an older time when cars weren't even a thought, when animals and the rivers were all the transportation one had and needed. He couldn't take that away from Ryoma, no matter how badly he wanted him.

Death, in fact, was more preferable to the option of living slavery.

But it was that last option that was most tempting. To be able to have Ryoma beside him forever, to take back what had been cruelly ripped from him so long ago…to be able to continue from what was now a distant, if fond, memory. It was a icy, succulent fruit, dangling before a parched, desert survivor. And Momoshiro found himself lingering upon thoughts of what could be, more often than he wanted to think about.

A knock on his door stole him away from his wildly-running thoughts, for which he was actually rather grateful. He needed a reprieve from himself.

"Come out, Momo, I've found something that I think, belongs to you."

Momoshiro had the door opened even before he could fully comprehend what Fuji had said. All he'd needed to hear was that slick, smooth tone.

"Where is he?"

"Now, now, is that any way to speak to me? I'd been expecting a word of thanks, or some other expression of gratitude."

Momoshiro, too anxious about Ryoma's wellbeing to care about niceties, ignored Fuji. "Where did you find him? Is he okay? Where is he?"

Fuji must have decided to let it slide, since Momoshiro didn't find himself suddenly disemboweled. Instead, he smile that seemingly innocent smile of his and pointed to one partially-open door. "That's where I found him." But when Momoshiro started for that door, Fuji held up a hand to stop him. "But we moved him to Eiji's room, since I doubt he'd be comfortable in mine."

That was Fuji's subtle way of saying that he didn't want anybody in his room. Except maybe Tezuka. But Tezuka was always an exception, when it came to Fuji.

"I think you should go in alone, Momo."

He was too frantic to properly examine the silky tone of voice the Fuji had used, barging into Eiji's room immediately. He shut the door behind him with a soft 'click' as he engaged the locks. There was no way he was going to let Ryoma escape again without an explanation.

He made sure all the locks were working, and then turned to face Ryoma. The boy's back was to him, and he sighed.

"Ryoma, look at me, please?" He got no reply whatsoever. "Okay then, at least, just listen to me first. There were things you need to know. And I need you to know that I would have told them to you eventually, but it was just too soon." He sighed again, looking away. "But then you saw everything. I'm very sorry, Ryoma, but now that you know all this, we can't let you go just like that."

He took a step closer to Ryoma, purposely making some noise so that he wouldn't suddenly spook him. But Ryoma didn't flinch, didn't so much as twitch. He suddenly got a bad feeling in his gut.

"Ryoma, say something."

He laid a hand on Ryoma's shoulder, turned Ryoma to face him. He knew something wasn't quite right when Ryoma didn't even scowl at him. And then he removed the white cap that perched jauntily on his dark hair.

Blank golden eyes stared back at him.

"Hey, Ryoma?" Momoshiro shook him gently. "Ryoma, you're scaring me."

Ryoma stirred, but his champagne-gold eyes remained dull. "I'm okay," Ryoma said in a flat voice. "I'm okay, Takeshi, really."

"No… No!" Momoshiro began to panic. "What did he do to you? Tell me! What did he do?"

"Who?" Ryoma slipped out of Momoshiro's grasp, looking at nothing in particular. He undid the top button of his shirt disinterestedly, and then the next, and would have kept on going if Momoshiro didn't still his hands.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Isn't it what you want? You always said before, how much you loved me, and even while I drowned, I heard you tell me that. Isn't this what you want, Takeshi?" Ryoma looked genuinely puzzled, even if his eyes were still that dull, dead, golden shade.

He didn't… Surely he wouldn't!

"Ryo-"

"Why do you keep calling me Ryoma? Who is that?" Ryoma looked up at him, a faint scowl on his face. "Is that someone else you met while I was gone?"

"Tell me your name," Momoshiro said hoarsely.

"My name? You've always known it, Takeshi. It's me, Yukio. You used to call me Yu-kun, remember? Who is Ryoma? What is he to you?"

Momoshiro paled at the mention of that one name, and then he released Ryoma with shaking hands. He walked back to the door on legs that felt more like jelly, and unlocked the door.

"Saa, Momo, how did it go?"

Eyes full of anguish, he launched himself at Fuji, not caring that he'd probably be dead in half a second. Fortunately for him, Fuji had already anticipated a similar reaction from him, and with an absent wave of his hand, sent Momoshiro crashing back into a wall.

"Try to remember that I could just kill you with a mere thought, Momoshiro. It's not like I want you dead so badly, you know."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!"

Fuji shrugged nonchalantly. "I simply sought to make your life a bit easier."

"Easier? How, in kami-sama's name, does it make my life easier!"

"Yukio has no more family left with which to burden him. Ryoma does. So simple. You don't have to kill him, you don't have to enslave him, and you have no guilt issues to work through to bring him over. See? So much less trouble."

"As long as he has Ryoma's body, I won't take Ryoma away from his life here."

"So you would rather I kill the boy and find Yukio's soul another shell?"

"Of course not!"

Fuji rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Then what do you want?"

Momoshiro couldn't believe their great leader was so incredibly dense. Or perhaps that was why it was usually Tezuka who gave the orders. Or was Tezuka actually their leader and Fuji just playing at it? Momoshiro had no idea.

"I want you to return Ryoma back to normal!"

"But isn't who you're after already in there? Your sweet Yu-kun, sitting in that delectable little body, just waiting for you." When Momoshiro would have leapt at him again, Fuji held out a hand to temporarily freeze him in place. "Stop and think about what you intend to do before you actually get yourself killed, you idiot."

"I intend to rip your guts out and feed them to the vultures," he snarled.

"You see, isn't it better that you voiced it out first, before actually attempting, and then getting yourself slaughtered over something so silly?" Fuji smiled. "The thing, Momoshiro, is that you'd die before you even came close enough to touch me, and that would leave your little darling without any protection at all. After all, you're the only reason why we don't touch him, right? And if you're gone, there's nothing to prevent us from having him join you in that eternal darkness."

And for one of the very few times in his extremely long life-span, Fuji found himself completely surprised. Momoshiro shrugged and held out his wrists.

"Well, you know many ways to take life, but try to kill us nicely, okay? It makes burial easier if we look like we died from natural causes."

Fuji frowned. "What are you trying to do?"

"Making sure that Ryoma doesn't die a messy death once I'm gone."

"And you want him to die?" Fuji was almost appalled.

"Well, I don't want a brainless slave, and that's more or less what's inside that room now." Momoshiro shrugged with a sad smile. "Something like that is easy to find, easy to make, but you only get a guy like Ryoma once every few centuries. Maybe if we die together, we'll get reborn around the same time, ne?"

Fuji slapped his hand to his forehead in complete exasperation. "Remind me again, who was the idiot who gave you your immortality?" He glared at Eiji. "Because I seriously feel like killing him right now."

"Fuji, you've had your fun," the normally hyper redhead said, with a slight frown. "Make Ochibi normal again."

"And what makes you think it's not just the shock that woke Yukio up?"

Eiji glanced at Momoshiro for a reply, having said all that he'd wanted to.

"Because that spark is gone. He looks right through me, like I'm not there. His eyes are blank, that sparkle of life is gone." He scowled at Fuji. "You took it away. I want you to put it back, or kill us both."

"Okay. You can follow me in then." He glanced at the others around him. "Alone," he added.

Momoshiro gulped, but nodded. He wondered how he'd spend his afterlife while waiting for a chance at reincarnation. He hoped it would be somewhere close to Ryoma. He wondered if Fuji would let him hold Ryoma a last time, if maybe he could kill them together.

Maybe then we'd get a better chance at a future, next time around.

They entered Eiji's room, and Fuji locked the door behind him, and not too pleased look on his face. Ryoma was exactly where Momoshiro had left him, and once more, he was still and silent, simply seated upon Eiji's weird bed.

"Ryoma…" Momoshiro could help the soft whisper from escaping. He tousled Ryoma's dark hair, simply enjoying the feel of those silken strands against his skin. He sat down beside the boy, then touched a gentle kiss to Ryoma's temple. "I'm really sorry that this had to happen to you. You had so much longer to live, but then I came along and messed that up. I promise you can kill me if you want the next time we meet."

"Are you quite done yet, Momoshiro?" Fuji growled. "I had better things to do with my night, instead of baby-sit you and the boy."

"Fine, get on with it," Momoshiro replied with a snort. "Then you can get back to screwing Tezuka, or whatever it is that you were going to do."

Fuji laughed, and unlike many of them, it didn't sound forced, or fake, or menacing. In fact, he looked very much amused. "For someone who kept trying to get himself killed throughout the night, you're not too dumb."

"Just do it," Momoshiro replied through gritted teeth.

"Sure you don't want to give your Yukio a kiss goodbye?"

"He is not Yukio." Momoshiro looked down at the ground. "Yukio died a long time ago, Fuji. We both know that."

Fuji gave him a 'you-said-it-not-me' kind of look, and then tapped the crown of Ryoma's head a few times, and whispered into his ear, while Momoshiro watched in fascination. He'd certainly never seen Fuji kill anyone like this before. But then Ryoma went utterly limp, and slumped against Momoshiro. Wide-eyed, Momoshiro caught him in his arms.

Ryoma looked peaceful, like he'd simply fallen asleep. Momoshiro had a fleeting thought on what it would be like to wake up to that face on every rising, before he realized that Ryoma was still breathing.

Wait a minute-

And then Ryoma blinked, he rubbed his eyes, as if emerging from a deep sleep, then glanced up at Momoshiro, bewildered.

"Momoshiro? What happened? I tripped and fell into…" And then his eyes widened. "Just now-"

Momoshiro saw those eyes glinting gold, like they were meant to, dazzling like the sun itself. Then Ryoma froze, halting in mid-speech. And then a thin trail of blood trickled down his jaw, from the corner of his mouth. His burnished-gold eyes were wide in surprise and horror.

"You're killing him!"

Fuji looked down at his talon-like nails, studying them casually. "Isn't that what you asked me to do?"

"I asked you to either return him to normal or kill us! Not both!"

Piercing azure eyes sharpened, and one hazel-brown brow rose sardonically. "You knew that there were only three ways to end this. So you can decide now, Momoshiro. You can leave him be and let him die—I promise you that he's not feeling any pain now, in fact, he's quite numb—or you can keep him alive as your pet. Or you could make him one of us and save us all the melodrama that the previous two options would no doubt cause."

"You planned this," Momoshiro hissed.

"Of course. I don't do things for no reason. Remember that." Fuji pointed to Ryoma. "You'd better hurry and decide or option one will become the default option."

"Damn you, Fuji," Momoshiro snarled.

Fuji's reply was a small, resigned smile. "I already am."

A/N:

well, isn't this amazing. i typed this entire chapter up all in one night. of course, i have an exam in a few hours and am extremely, and totally screwed, but hey, i got a new chapter up. cool. > i am SO gonna die. anyway, here's a new chapter, i'm going to start on chapter 5 now, and then stay up the rest of the night studying. i'll probably be half asleep during tomorrows exam, which HAS to be a morning paper, but then i'll just come home and fall asleep. all will be balanced in the end.

good luck to me, and here's to hoping i don't fail. cheers. -.-()()()()