A/N: Timeskip. Unfortunately, we won't see the rest of Takuma's courtship except in stories and maybe flashbacks, but I assure you the whole thing played out like a shoujo manga. Takuma was delighted.

This chapter is where the story earns its body horror warning. If graphic description of bodily functions and heavy injuries bothers you, skip that part or turn back now. Bit of dysphoria in here as well. The working title for this chapter was 'kick the dog' - bad things happen to Zero and he is Not Okay. I promise you that I love happy endings but my characters will have to work for it. On the positive, our trio finally comes face to face – sort of.

Kaname is somewhat cruel this chapter, and will be again in the future. This is entirely accurate with his canon characterization where Kaname and Zero are rivals. As early as episode two, Kaname goes out of his way to come over to Zero and taunt him about the fact he's falling to Level E and slowly losing his humanity by acting falsely concerned over his health. The two of them know there's no way Zero could be okay, and that Kaname is asking just to remind Zero he's the opposite of okay. But to everyone else watching, who don't know about vampires or that Zero is becoming one, it looks like Zero is being extremely rude and throwing Kaname's concern back in his face. So Kaname both gets the praise of those watching for his 'good deed' and to hurt Zero while making his rival look ungrateful and mean.

Thanks to everyone who left me such nice reviews. Special shout-out to reviewer Sancti Rei, who inadvertently reminded me I forgot the bloodlust and kicked off a 500 word revision. You were very helpful!

III. The Darkest Night

It was like fate, thought Zero, that he would find himself attending a vampire ball - which he previously avoided for decades - for the second year in a row, around the same time as last year's incident.

Whatever had happened seemed to have no permanent effects, except for the odd way Level D vampires always fixed on Zero first as a target, even if a human was bleeding in front of them. Zero habitually applied scent masking charms every day now, which kept their behavior normal. He hypothesized - not that he had any evidence - that his scent had changed somehow and marked him as the superior threat who needed to be destroyed first.

What Zero privately called 'the red haze' never returned. He'd been anxiously watching his body for any sign of those vile urges or strange restlessness and pain, but it seemed like, thankfully, it had been a one time deal. Last week was the one year anniversary of the end of the incident, and not a peep from his body. Zero had felt safe enough to return to active duty and stop hiding out in his apartment.

Zero ran a hand over his face and sighed. He should have just extended his leave and avoided this odious assignment altogether, but it couldn't be helped. Tonight was the winter solstice, the longest night of the year and the most significant holiday in the vampire world. Neither vampires nor Hunters celebrated human Christmas, but it resembled the dark solstice in many ways. Every noble with delusions of importance was throwing a party tonight, and headquarters was running on a skeleton crew as every Hunter who could stake a vampire was either out on patrol to deter bloodsucking revelers from getting cocky, or stuck here like him babysitting a party of leeches.

Zero knew which duty he'd rather draw, but all the patrol assignments had been handed out by the time his paperwork returning from leave had been processed. He avoided monitor duty so ardently for one reason: the Kurans might be attending. Cross must have known why, because he never pushed the issue, and had casually let slip that the guest list for his upcoming assignment held no purebloods.

Unfortunately Zero's pureblood free policy also left him in situations like tonight, with the strongest Hunter in the world guarding a collection of vampire society's C-list notables and most forgettable celebrities. He could be doing so many more useful things.

Their host tonight is one such pathetic person, a low-ranking noble of grandiose desires but little substance named Shoda. He'd clearly gained the favor of some pureblood, who'd gifted him a few stable Level Ds which he displayed as status symbols in plenty of degrading ways. One of them, dressed in little more than paint and scraps of fabric had met Zero's eyes earlier as she skittered through the servant's hallways near where the Hunters had set up their command center.

Shoda also seems to have problem with Zero's manner, a Level D who dared to look him in the eye like a equal. He's come by Zero's corner of the ballroom half a dozen times trailing hangers on and groupies behind him like a cloud of mosquitos, stinking of alpha musk and cologne and making insulting comments in his hearing. Shoda's unremarkable for a vampire, attractive but forgettable, except for his ridiculous goatee, cut and slicked with product into a long point. It gives the illusion that his chin looks twice as long and Zero imagines the fool resembles nothing so much as a nutcracker.

The effort of keeping his temper leashed, unfortunately, has blinded Zero to the fact that his rising temperature is not just because of his anger. The moment Zero looks across the ballroom and thinks about how many of these pathetic beasts he could kill before they stopped him is the moment he realizes he has made a grievous mistake.

The red haze surges up in his bones like it's been waiting for the very moment he noticed to break upon him like a storm.

It's worse than it was before, stronger. There's no pain or nausea like the first time, but the murderous urges run unchecked. His agitation makes him feel like he's crawling out of his skin. Every touch is magnified a thousandfold, the rasp of his clothing a burn. The crowds are too loud; he wants to clap his hands over his head because the noise, how is he the only one who can't bear this cacophony? Everyone's too close, he's being crushed in this airless room. Trapped, trapped, kill them, bite them, get out get out get out.

Zero's stuck where he is. He can't go anywhere unless he can convince the lead hunter to allow it, which he won't without a good reason, which Zero can't give because he doesn't know what's going on.

The Hunter doesn't know how much time passes. He stays still, rigid in his post along the south wall, focused on fighting off whatever fit has come over him, and it might have worked too, Zero could have made it out of this alright, if it wasn't for that prick Shoda deciding now was a good time to come toy with the upstart Level D trash.

He's brought his cronies and they've all had a few drinks; vampires have a high alcohol tolerance but the wine flowing tonight is as potent as any. Shoda himself is riding the high that came from a night full of vampires feeding his ego with flattery, the confidence of a bully with his gang facing a target forbidden from reacting unless his life was endangered.

For some reason, Zero's rage blossoms like a mushroom cloud and the discomfort of his body dims, the stink of this weak, unworthy alpha driving his beast into a still patience, the hunting crouch in the underbrush before the leap onto unsuspecting prey.

Shoda mouths off, postures, Zero ignores him. Bullies want a reaction. The noble tries again, the mouse poking a dragon who could kill him with the pull of a single trigger finger. Zero realizes the situation is escalating, that Shoda is just drunk enough to be both reckless and dangerous, and tries to excuse himself to end the confrontation. Shoda and his flunkies crowd into the Hunter's personal space, refusing to let the Level D leave - Zero startles himself when his mouth lets out a snarl. They ignore him, as they have ignored every cue he's given tonight that he'd much rather be left alone. A D should know their place and show even the lowliest born vampire due respect when granted the privilege of even the slightest attention.

The smell of a dozen alphas and betas permeates the space; Zero's grip on his beast wavers every moment that passes. It's coiled tight and struggling, quietly chanting kill them, maim them, teach them we won't stand for this. Zero is the only one who realizes he is close to doing something unforgivable. He expends his honed will to reel the beast in, lock it away, and is almost back on even ground -

Then Shoda touches him, touches him with his filthy hands, grabs his face and his upper arm hard enough to bruise and shakes him -

Zero has just enough sanity left to keep from eviscerating the insignificant, presumptuous braggart; Shoda bleeds like the pig he is.

They take him down to the wine cellar, underneath the dense bedrock, down a flight of stairs and behind a thick oakwood door. His fellow Hunters have Zero remove his weapons and gear; he's ordered to stay here while Lead Hunter Yamamoto sorts out the mess he's made.

And it is a mess; Zero's actions have endangered the treaty between their races by attacking a noble, unprovoked, at a party. There may be political consequences; the vampires will point to incidents like this one to claim that Hunters take advantage of the monitoring requirement and argue that it should be removed. It won't work; the Hunters will respond that Zero is a Level D and it's the fault of his vampiric nature. Still, damage will be done to their reputation and the Hunters will have to make political amends to the vampires.

Zero's entire career as a Hunter may be ruined. He's certain to be reprimanded, perhaps brought before a tribunal if the Senate demands it, but that's not the worst. He's spent decades trying to build trust with his fellow Hunters, to prove that he is stronger than his instincts, that he is safe to be around, and then he goes and opens someone's belly with his claws? What Hunter will want Zero to watch their back, or to be under their command when he might go rogue? Zero doesn't have words for how horrified and disappointed he is in himself.

Then they lock the door behind them, and retreat up the long staircase to stand guard. Against the vampires or against him? Zero wonders.

The triumph of striking Shoda faded like frost in sun almost as soon as he'd done it. In its place came the intense stabbing pain in his belly again, and each passing moment it worsens.

Clumsily, Zero uses a wine rack for support as he lowers himself to his knees and sits in the small open space just in front of the doorway. The room is in complete darkness, though not to vampire eyes. Zero's human side still longs for the comfort of light. It's chilly but not freezing, and his pale skin pebbles from the cold.

Zero is almost grateful for the distraction from the pain. His entire lower belly feels like a giant hand is squeezing his middle; when he puts the palm of his hand down to touch, all he can feel is hard muscle from the cramps. He's having trouble breathing, wheezing out high pained inhales because the taut muscles keep his lungs from expanding to take deep breaths. The primal panic of being unable to breathe sinks fear into his veins for the first time. He does not call for help; the thick walls and doors would block the sound of his voice from the human ears of his guards.

He doesn't know what's happening to him. He can't stay upright any more, and topples over to fall on his side, arms wrapped around his abdomen and gasping for breath. He writhes and squirms like he's trying to escape. The pain is pooling, moving lower, deeper. Zero whimpers, still trying to keep quiet, the way he always deals with his pain. His body is moving faster and faster toward some cliff and he's afraid to find out what the fall will be.

It's worse. Down there, the pain settles between his thighs. Such a vulnerable, intimate place - Zero is terrified. A moment later, he learns all of this is just the preamble for what's to come, when the pain condenses his body snaps taut every nerve lights on fire and Zero screams.

Something is chewing through his insides trying to get out, boring a hole down down down through his organs rearranging his insides parting slick flesh and meat. He's not even trying to hide his terrified, agonized screams anymore. This is horror beyond his imagination. Then the pain crests, and Zero has a moment of terrified comprehension. Between his legs - oh god - he feels fragile. Open. He turns his head to the side and vomits. Then another wave takes him and his body thrashes - something like a membrane tears, and his thighs are soaked in a gush of thick blood and watery fluid.

But that's merely the beginning of Zero's torture; he has no sense of time; agony spreads through his limbs and the real changes ripple through his quivering, helpless flesh as his body remakes itself, alone in the darkness and the cold.

When his pelvis is broken and remade, he loses control of his entire lower body and his bladder empties; he can still feel every bit of his pain even when he can't move his legs. The throb of tissues being modified in his chest is nothing in comparison. Thousands and thousands of neurons in his head are being killed and replaced, the cerebral architectures reconnected and rerouted. His brain swells and presses against his skull; the pressure on his optic nerve leaves him blind for the better part of an hour, repeatedly seizing on the floor, completely aware of his body's convulsions and plagued by phantom sensations and images. He fractures his skull on the pavestones trying to knock himself unconscious.

One of his flailing limbs strikes the surrounding racks, and a few bottles fall and shatter, adding wine to the smells of blood, sweat, piss and vomit. His next fit grinds broken glass into his side.

The sound of his sobbing breaths is the only noise under that dark vault as Kiryuu Zero is taken apart and irrevocably changed. No part of him is safe, nothing in him is untouched, a nightmare of his Turning all over again. He has no control, his actions are useless; all he can do is lie there and wait to die or for this to impossibly end.

Gradually, the pace slows. His body is approaching exhaustion and is dangerously weak, struggling against dehydration, shock and blood loss. Kept perpetually at the knife edge of starvation by his refusal to feed, whatever energy reserves the vampire had are completely gone. Zero's body has burned through every last one of his fat stores and is cannibalizing itself to fuel the rest of the process.

Zero really was unfortunate. For any other vampire - for any born vampire - this would have been short and mostly painless in comparison. Each one of them naturally possessed the framework it needed to complete this change. Zero's human body, on the other hand, had to tear down the whole house to the bare foundations before it could rebuild from scratch. It was entirely possible the process could have killed him.

The last to come is the replacement of his nervous system. It disjoints his limbs like a puppet, leaving him unable to move, speak, or do anything but blink and move his eyes, trapped in a straitjacket of flesh.

Of course, this is when they come for him.

"Kaname-sama, there has been an incident," Seiren unobtrusively bends close to her master's ear and quietly reports the news. He need not fear anyone else overhearing, even other vampires; his Shadow's professionalism is absolute. She had been chosen and trained to serve him since birth, after all.

Kaname's brow furrows, the only sign of displeasure he will allow himself, since tonight he is acting the part of the affable, gentlemanly head of the pureblood Kuran family.

The Kurans do not hold their own celebration on Winter Solstice; Kaname and Yuuki are scheduled to make appearances at nearly a dozen parties tonight, all held by important nobles or allies of Kaname's. Where the purebloods go, how long they stay there and who they talk to are all part of tonight's political games. If Kaname appears at some noble's party, they gain the prestige of being deemed important enough for him to spend his time on; it elevates their own position and acts as social currency. Even if it seems insignificant, the distribution of attention and favors helps maintain the alliances and networks he's built. Something as simple as a greeting and small talk keeps subordinates satisfied and makes them feel appreciated. Which means that he has work to do and a schedule to keep, and Kaname is not in the mood for wasting his time on drunken disturbances.

He excuses himself from his conversation partners with a smile and offered well wishes, slipping out with Seiren at his elbow for a moment of privacy. When he is certain they are alone, Kaname gestures for his Shadow to continue her report.

"A Hunter monitor has attacked the host of a party without provocation, seriously wounding him. Our assistance has been requested by the Senate to help settle the situation, as we are the closest with the authority and rank to speak with the Hunters' Association on behalf of the vampires."

Kaname narrowed wine colored eyes. The Senate was playing power games too; Kaname doubted they had no closer agents, they just wanted the pureblood to jump when they ordered. Nevertheless, such an incident was serious, and giving the illusion to the Senate that he could be controlled was still useful at this stage of play.

Kaname pinches the bridge of his nose. "Who was injured?"

"Lord Shoda; the injury was not fatal and he is expected to recover."

"Do we know anything about the Hunter or the circumstances around the injury?"

Seiren shakes her head, blank expression almost shamefaced. "Only what information the Senate has given me. Shoda claims victimhood."

Kaname cannot ignore this. He publicly champions the coexistence movement and has long argued for better relations for the Hunters. Allowing the Senate to handle this will mean it becomes a major diplomatic matter and may cast doubt on his judgement.

"We'll go, but not until we are finished with our itinerary." He would comply, but on his own terms. It's late in the evening and only the two least important stops remain, but breaking off his engagements could still cause bad blood. Kaname will pare down his schedule to only those vampires most important to his plans.

"Please have the car ready in fifteen minutes, and call ahead to rearrange the schedule for half the allotted time while I find Yuuki and let her know our change of plans. And inform the Senate that I will arrive in two and a half hours, and that I alone will be necessary to resolve it."

True to his word - not that Kaname would ever allow such trivial difficulties to make him break it - their car pulls up to the doors of Shoda's manor precisely two hours and twenty nine minutes later. Seirin slides into the shadows as soon as they enter; she has orders to perform her own investigation.

Kaname's mood worsens with every step he takes inside, following terrified servants who've never seen one pureblood before, let alone two. Shoda's faux ostentatious, tacky home tells him all he needs to know about the owner, and how much of a trial interrogating him will be.

Even at such a late hour, the house is still packed with guests who ogle the pureblood couple and whisper boorishly back and forth. He suspects they've stayed for the prospect of a good show. A mix of nobles whose thin blood could barely lay claim to the title, common vampires with a little wealth or fame in the human world and vampires who thought associating with such people would launch themselves into their ranks - people who lacked real power, but hungered so intensely that they would do anything for even a taste. Brought face to face with effortless, true power, they slavered after it.

Yuuki must feel his frustration through their bloodbond, because she takes his hand in hers, playfully swinging their arms back and forth for a few moments, then lets him gently pull his hand free and step back into his dignified pureblood persona. She is intensely uncomfortable, and Kaname tries to shield her with his body as best he can from the greedy stares until they are ushered into a side room holding half a dozen Hunters. Kaname can sense two more in an adjacent room. Excessive, for a single party without one person of importance attending. Just what was Shoda involved in?

The capable looking, middle-aged brunette who holds himself with authority approaches them and nods in greeting with his arms crossed over his chest. His rough features and stockier build speak of a recent human ancestor; he must be very reliable or skilled to have gained a leadership position with such diluted Hunter abilities.

"Yamamoto. I'm lead Hunter for this assignment. Kuran Kaname-san, Kuran Yuuki-san, thank you for your assistance. I sincerely apologize for pulling you away from your plans for the evening."

Kaname draws himself up and joins his hands behind his back.

"Explain the situation to me."

"One of my hunters injured Shoda-san, who hosted tonight's party. He bled heavily from multiple chest wounds but they've already healed with no complications. Shoda says my Hunter attacked him as he passed by. My Hunter admitted Shoda acted aggressively but not enough to justify his reaction. We called for mediation because Shoda's demanding blood and the guests are looking for an excuse to make trouble. We want to settle this with no fuss."

"What is Shoda-san being investigated for?"

The Hunter's transparent surprise told Kaname his guess rings true. He clearly doesn't want to admit anything to a vampire, but Yamamoto gives the information as a peace offering a moment later.

"He's heavily involved in the human underworld. Drugs, arms dealing, smuggling, illegal wildlife trafficking, probably money laundering if we could get ahold of his books to prove it. Nothing we have jurisdiction over or the vampire law codes care about, but if we gather enough information we can hand it over to the human police. We want to see his operation destroyed even if we can't take Shoda down. Doesn't matter now, what my Hunter did means nothing we got tonight could be submitted in court."

"Who is the Hunter whose lack of control is at fault?"

Yamamoto can't help the nervous tell as he rubs his hands together and looks uncomfortable. Clearly the man hoped Kaname wouldn't notice the little detail he'd left out.

"Kiryuu Zero."

Kaname feels Yuuki stiffen at his side at the same time the gleeful anticipation of pleasure rises in his chest. He's been handed a golden opportunity to - what did he want to do? He could have Kiryuu's head on a platter, see that he never Hunts again. The opportunities abounded to crush his rival, and all unlooked for. What a happy Solstice present for himself!

Yuuki is shaking her head quickly back and forth. "No, Zero wouldn't do something like that for no reason. I want to see him."

Kaname catches his sister by the shoulders and waits until she squarely meets his gaze. "Yuuki. It has been a long time since we knew him. Zero may be a different person now. I don't want you to be hurt by getting your hopes up. Let me see him while you go speak to Shoda. We'll discover the truth of the matter and Kiryuu will either be cleared or have to face the consequences of his actions."

Kiryuu rarely lied and had already admitted fault. Kaname was looking forward to dictating those consequences.

Yuuki looks rebellious and like she still wants to protest.

"Please trust my judgement Yuuki. Given how you parted, Kiryuu may not want to see you at all."

Just like that, her shoulders sag, and Yuuki nods as she stares at her toes. Kaname gestures to Yamamoto and one of the other Hunters steps forward to lead her out of the room.

Yamamoto points with his chin at one of the walls. "He's in the room next door. We were keeping him in the wine cellar until you arrived."

Anticipation settles over Kaname's shoulders like a cloak; he must be smiling too broadly because Yamamoto looks at him askance.

"I have to warn you. Kiryuu broke a glass bottle and tried to commit suicide when he was being held downstairs. He's a bloody mess and stinks of filth. However he did it, he can't move a whole lot either. And," here Yamamoto looks green, "he can't talk. Looks like he bit off the end of his tongue when the bottle didn't work."

Truly, Kiryuu must have grown into a weak man. Kaname can't wait for Yuuki to see how pitiful Kiryuu had become.

At first, Zero thinks the spot of light above him must be a dream. In his blindness, he hallucinated lightning bolts of color created by his injured brain. Or perhaps it's Death, high and remote, come for him at last. He would struggle, if he could twitch a single finger. Kiryuu Zero knows he is not permitted to die yet, not until every last drop of use is wrung out of him.

Then he hears voices shouting in alarm, and knows he hasn't failed Ichiru yet. He is not quite grateful.

He's hungry. Hunger is not a strong enough word for his desperate starvation, every cell crying out for sustenance, the thick liquid that will finish putting him back together and save him. He can smell their lovely blood, hear their hearts pumping it underneath thin skin, so easy to pierce. He's so, so hungry, and it takes everything Zero has to reign back his bloodlust until he's sure his eyes are not red.

Rough, panicked hands touch him - he would flinch away if he could. The added pain is inconsequential, but vampire instincts insist he is not meant to be touched. He is turned over and a woman's hands check for a pulse. Rapid discussion above his head. Zero is grabbed on either side underneath the arms and lugged like the dead weight he is up the stairs into better lighting, each step banging his limp legs into sharp stone edges, bump bump bump. The woman's hands return, professionally running over his limbs to check for injury. Zero doesn't feel like he's bleeding from open wounds anymore -

(except between his thighs no no no no back up back up calm. calm.)

There's more discussion - disagreement this time. A few more scent masking charms settle over his skin like cobwebs. Probably for the blood. The arms pick him up again, taking a handful of his dirty clothing, dried stiff with his own blood and fluids, and begin to drag him across the ground as his useless limbs trail behind him. Zero is pleased to realize that he can't feel any sensation at all right now; whatever is happening inside him has severed all his nerves. He blanks out - for how long he doesn't know, not more than ten minutes, and comes back to awareness as his body is finally deposited in a new resting place against a stone wall. Big hands adjust the boneless sprawl of his body as he slides downward, and his head is tilted upwards to look into the eyes of Lead Hunter Yamamoto bent above him.

The black eyes look furious, shaken and deeply disappointed. "Kiryuu, after all the trouble you've caused tonight, now this? Have you even thought at all about what you've done? No, you didn't. Because killing yourself won't solve this. You'll just be dead, and it won't satisfy the vampires or me. I told you to stay put. You've proven you can't be trusted to follow orders. If you can't follow my orders, I'll get someone to babysit you like a child. Bloody hell, Kiryuu. You've done the stupidest shit tonight, but that didn't mean you had to do that to yourself. Blood and scattered ashes!"

Yamamoto is a decent Hunter, through not of significant blood. He's solid and reliable by his reputation; the few times they've spoken he'd been neutral toward Zero. Zero's never worked with him before, and he doubts he'll ever get the chance again.

Zero wants to eat him, monster that he is.

Yamamoto straightens, shoots an order at Zero to stay where he is, and leaves the room. Left without other options, Zero stays exactly where he was put and punishes himself thinking over his shameful actions earlier this evening, whenever he has the capability to follow a coherent train of thought. His bloodlust comes in waves that take precious energy as he braces himself to withstand them; he's profoundly grateful his crippled body can't move, else he would leap on the first living being he saw. It's horribly reminiscent of falling to Level E.

His ordeal seems forgotten, put out of his mind in favor of his self loathing, consciousness curiously insulated out of some instinct to protect his psyche from thinking too deeply about the fact he is in a body that cannot move or feel, or perhaps start wondering about whether or not it was permanent.

Zero desperately needs medical attention. His lack of open wounds and reputation for invulnerability have fooled his fellow Hunters into inattentive complacency. He's a vampire who can regenerate like a pureblood; in forty years of Hunts he's never been so injured he couldn't take himself home. Their weaker human senses can't hear the struggling beat of his heart, the labored cadence of his breathing, or smell the sickness in his scent - not that any vampire could either, after so many scent dampening charms. His core temperature plummets; he doesn't have the energy anymore to keep himself warm. Mildly hypothermic, Zero's body still doesn't have the muscle control to shiver, or allow him to ask for help. He's not dying - yet - but that could change very quickly, if he's allowed to remain untreated. His fragile body has pushed itself to the limit; now it's struggling to keep him stable and alive, fighting exhaustion and ignorance of its needs.

Eventually his consciousness drifts again, only to come back to himself when his Hunter senses scream warnings at him. A pureblood - no, two. What is a pair of purebloods doing in a dirty pond like this one - oh. Him. It's Zero they're here for. Who would they send - no! That couldn't be right, but Zero knows his reasoning is plausible, even likely. He can't meet them here. Not now, like this.

Life has never cared about what Zero wanted, and the Hunter feels this keenly as Kuran Kaname steps past the threshold into his sight.

Why is is that Zero feels his greatest moments of humiliation in the sight of those claret eyes, alight with triumph? He cannot help his awareness of the distance between the two of them - one, Yuki's victorious husband standing above him, the vampire prince with his supernaturally perfect features and regal bearing, impeccably clothed in an expensively tailored black suit; the other, him, the imperfect human, neither properly Hunter nor vampire, slumped bonelessly with his disobedient limbs flung about, in cheap, dirty clothes stained with vomit and urine, covered in his own shame, soon to face the disgrace he has earned, easily discarded, worth nothing, soon to be nobody.

At the first hint of familiar, rich blood, the Level D lost the fight with his bloodlust and his eyes blaze crimson now, his traitorous body hopeful of a meal.

Zero lays helplessly in front of mahogany eyes that drink in every detail of his utter humiliation, and burns with his impotence and inadequacy.

If Kaname notices irregularities in Zero's condition, he overlooks them in favor of enjoying the Hunter's disgrace, or perhaps he thinks he misremembers the scent he hated for so many years.

"Leave us," Kuran orders the Lead Hunter in the same deep, silky voice Zero last heard the day his brother died. "I wish to see Kiryuu alone."

Yamamoto hesitates, looking between the pureblood and the injured Hunter. It would be like leaving a bear and a baby bird alone together, which Yamamoto cannot in good conscience do as the one in charge of Zero.

"Enough time has passed that Kiryuu's body must be healed. His silence is simply his stubbornness."

This seems to make up the Lead Hunter's mind, since he nods, and leaves with a lingering frown at Zero.

Now that it's just the two of them, Kuran makes no effort to hide his delighted disgust. With his hands tucked elegantly behind his back, he slowly paces in a half-circle around Zero, as though taking in every possible angle of Zero's wretchedness, content to keep Zero waiting and let the silent apprehension build. Kuran finally comes to a stop, a cruel smile on his lips and eyes bright with delight.

"Look at you, Kiryuu. Humbled at my feet, where you always belonged. Should I let Yuuki see you like this, I wonder?"

Zero, of course, cannot reply.

"Still silent? Looks like you have learned something in thirty years. Pity it couldn't have been sooner. I had to suffer your insolent yapping all those times."

The Hunter's eyelids flutter rapidly, the only rebuttal his paralyzed body can make.

"I'm here to clean up your mistakes once more. You've already admitted guilt, and you've never been dishonest. If I hadn't already discarded you, the knight I carefully raised, then I would have no choice now that you've compromised your usefulness with your own hands. Chairman Cross and your Master will be very hurt by having to punish you, but the Senate will demand a price."

Kuran steps closer, taking what looks like a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and lays it flat over the skin of his palm. Then he bends just low enough to hook two fingers underneath Zero's chin, covered by the fine silk so not a millimeter of their skin touches - like Zero is something unclean - and tips his head back, coming close so the pureblood can whisper in his ear.

"It really is as it's always been - between the two of us, it's you, Kiryuu, who is a beast enslaved to his instincts."

Zero can smell that pure blood just centimeters from his lips, and his desire for the blood of a man he hates tortures him. Kuran must know it too, from his smile, Zero's eyes still betraying his bloodlust to his nemesis.

There's noises in the hall. Kuran straightens and steps back to a polite distance, refolding his handkerchief. One of the auras has the heavy, blanketing power that marks a pureblood, outshining the quiet Hunter signatures.

"I wouldn't kill you now even if Yuuki hated you. I think I'll just watch you fall," Kuran says, so quietly only the two of them can hear, and then -

Yuuki. Zero's heart clenches and he inexplicably wants to cry. He hasn't cried since he was sixteen years old, but the thought of her being before him, seeing him like this - she's gotten so tall and beautiful, her eyes still kind as she looks upon his unworthy self - it's almost worse than the way Kuran looked at him, because he doesn't deserve this unconditional goodness.

At that moment, two things happen:

Yuuki wails at the sight of him, streaked with blood, and rushes forward.

Zero's body finally reconnects his nervous system. Immediately, he loses consciousness, cries out and begins to convulse.

It lasts barely a minute. Zero, at least, is spared Yuuki's distress and the panic spreading among the Hunters.

When Zero comes back to himself his thoughts are confused. Zero can hear Yuuki somewhere nearby. She sounds upset. Has he done something to upset her? He thinks he feels her hands on him, but it's been so long he can't be sure he remembers the feeling. She shouldn't touch him. He's dirty. He'll spread filth on her clean hands and pristine dress. Someone speaks to him, trying to get him to respond, but moving is so difficult. His head weighs too much to lift; Zero wants nothing more than to lie down and sleep. Even his hunger can't rouse him.

This is the last straw for his laboring, strained body, already too long starved before pushing its regeneration ability to the limit. He blinks, staring into Yuuki's terrified face, a trail of blood dripping from his nose, and slips back into unconsciousness as his heartbeat slows.