Pairings: Tohma x Suguru (I have no witty comments to put here, so come up with your own for once. I'm an author, not a substitute for one's own imagination!)

Warning: Shounen-ai/yaoi, shota, incest... I would hope that everyone knows them by now.

Disclaimer: Nope, you guessed it! They're not mine... but... in my mind they are!

Chapter Three -
- The Five Stages of Grief
Part Two - Anger

If Tohma had let go of Suguru's hand, the teen, the lost puppy would have stood rooted to the spot he was left. The rain, which had been not much more than a light downpour for a few minutes, had ended but the clouds remained in their foreboding garments of grey, threatening to once again shower the people with their tears.

The rain had only had a minor effect on Tohma, his coat being too thick to be penetrated by the water and only the fur lining, its collar, now showed signs of wetness. However, in Suguru's case, his sweater had swallowed as much water as it could, retaining the moisture like a green sponge and slowing the teen as he walked after his cousin.

Suguru's apartment was not far from the NG building, merely a few blocks to the West. It had seemed the least expensive way to live, as the teen could easily walk to work every day. Though, legally, Suguru was not old enough to own his own apartment there had been ways of walking around this uncovered manhole in the middle sidewalk. Of course the place was leased to the famous Tohma Seguchi. It was also being paid for by the blond musician, a gift to the young Fujisaki for joining NG Records.

As they were walking, the gears in Suguru's mind, which had previously been jammed by a fly dumb enough to meander between the metal death traps, crushing the poor pest into a splatter of chitin and blood, finally managed to rid themselves of the blockage created by said mess and began to turn once more. All the force, all the momentum that had been withheld and prevented was now, suddenly, released in a flood of thought.

The only warning Tohma had was a slight tremor, perceived through their joined hands. The teen blinked. About half a block from the apartment building Suguru stopped walking. Tohma felt the grip on his own hand tighten before the manual contact was lost.

"Suguru what-"

"Those bastards."

As Seguchi turned he noticed two things. The first was the ghostly lack of color in Suguru's skin. For seconds was the demonic darkness in the chocolate-colored eyes. The features that could have been called cute when the boy acted his age, attractive when he was serious and slightly unnerving when he stole Tohma's mask held a new gleam: cold, rage, death. Suguru's eyes told the true story, even if his iced face betrayed nothing.

Tohma may not have known the events in his cousin's mind before, during the period of halted thought process, but now the ideas were clear as crystal: murder.

Suguru's voice was steady as he spoke, icicles clung to each chilly syllable, breaking off from their overhang to stab their wicked needle points towards the sidewalk and shatter into glass-like glitter at the end of each curtly annunciated work, "I'm going to kill them."

After the five terms were spoken, the teen turned to revisit the recently departed from NG building. All the fury in his mind thrust upon his young body resulted in a violently executed turn, leading to a predictable splash.

If Suguru hadn't just uttered a death threat, if he hadn't already been soaking wet and chilled considerably, and if he hadn't looked like he was about to cry, Tohma would have laughed. His cousin sat in the middle of a puddle, an adorable 'how-did-I-end-up-down-here' expression present on his youthful face. The blonde didn't laugh, however; he did offer Suguru a cloaked hand, pulling the teen from his shallow lake and preventing him from drowning; Suguru couldn't swim, a scarcely known fact kept as a skeleton in the closet by his elder cousin.

"Are you alright Suguru?" The blonde's other hand gently removed a few of the dark strands plastered wetly to the adolescent's forehead.

"Yes," vehemently Fujisaki replied, whether he was filled with rage or bitter from embarrassment was an enigma; most probably a compound of both elements.

Tohma couldn't stop himself, he chuckled at the sopping wet puppy, "Come on, we're almost there."

Ignoring the unimportance of being told the distance to his own residence, Suguru scowled, "Why the laugh Seguchi-san?"

The blond cousin smiled. It was almost sincere, so close to breaking the mold, "You can't see how cute you look right now."

Suguru 'hmph'd and glared at his cousin, 'Maybe if I sacrifice the lives of Nakano-san and K-san I will get my synth back,' he thought sinisterly.

As the dark haired teen plotted, schemed, and came close to making a pact with the devil, he shivered.

To be continued...