I hope everyone is having a nice summer. My trip was very pleasant, though fourteen hour jet lag is Not Fun. Thanks for being patient for the new chapter, I'm back in my home country, and have returned to my normal update schedule. I appreciate the continued outpouring of support and enthusiasm from my readers and reviewers.
This would have been ready earlier, but I ended up doing a series of fairly deep rewrites and revising the plot outline of this arc, because I don't want to rush things; I want to do it properly, and I know everyone's been looking forward to this arc after all this build up.
In which Kaname thinks deep thoughts, Yuuki experiences deep disappointment, and Zero wades a little too deep.
XX. A Shore Without a Sea
Across from him, Yuuki shifts, makes an odd 'mrr' sound, and settles back into her mussed blankets to sleep.
Lying awake in their bed, Kaname doesn't need any clock to know the twilight hours are beginning. Like all vampires, his body instinctively attunes itself to the sun - a bitter mockery, the better to seek out the night, the safest time for their kind.
Purebloods don't need sleep the way humans do. Kaname himself sleeps a few hours a night, at most, and when pushed, has gone weeks without it. If he goes sleepless long enough, his abilities begin to suffer, but an equivalent human would be pushed into a mental breakdown.
Yuuki sleeps the same seven or eight hours she did as a human, a relic of her upbringing. Sleep is one of her enduring human habits. The biological act comforts her, convinces her she isn't quite as inhuman as she believes she is. And even purebloods find sleep enjoyable and pleasurable, so many of them sleep more than is strictly necessary. His wife is an active sleeper, Kaname has learned, spilling bits of her dreams into the world as she shifts and mutters in the daylight.
Kiryuu sleeps like a Hunter - sparingly, with his body silent and still, easily woken at the slightest change or hint of danger. Or he did, when the nightmares didn't plague him and Nightshade curled around him in his hotel room beds. Now, with his fragile, broken body, their Consort spends most of his time in bed, cocooned in the slick, silken scarlet sheets with added thick blankets to keep his body warm and comfortable. Tonight, just like most nights, Kiryuu lies boneless against his side, tucked between himself and Yuuki, deaf to the world and deep in exhausted rest.
Kaname has had a great deal of time to study his spouses' sleeping habits. Somehow, instead of sleeping in Yuuki's bed, the three of them have migrated to the larger bed in the master bedroom - Kaname's bedroom - and Kaname can't see any sign this is a temporary affair. After the Hunter's 'redecoration' of his study, his bedroom had been his last private space free of any trace of Kiryuu, where Yuuki had never dared to intrude. There's something symbolic in that, he thinks now, acutely aware of the pressure of Kiryuu's body against his flesh.
Kaname can't disentangle either of them, his wife or his Consort, from his life anymore. They are there when he goes to sleep, breathing warmly in his bed after he works late into the morning hours to avoid them. They are there when he awakens, Yuuki under the silver spell of her dreams, Kiryuu's chest quietly rising and falling. Yuuki is at his side during his nights, learning to manage their followers and navigate vampire society, and through his familiar he feels as though Kiryuu is present too, as if Kaname just needs to turn his head to see Kiryuu in the room. Their joined smell lingers stubbornly on his skin. Not even washing can keep the memory of it from lingering in his nose, a ghost of scent. People have started to comment on it.
For his eternal life, Kaname doesn't know what to make of all this. He has almost no secrets left from them. They know him, in ways he has never allowed anyone else. Intimacy of this breadth and depth is a complete enigma to him. His existence has stood above the rest of humanity, separated from the lives of others for so long - first in childhood, than in kingship, and finally in Sleep, and then secrecy. Even when he loved Yuuki, they had not been close. Between them had lain barriers, steep and slick, like a black glass mountain.
Now everything has changed. The two of them, Kuran Yuuki and Kiryuu Zero, are closer than any living being has ever come to him, and Kaname is at once uncertain and desirous, like a feral animal that hungers for the touch of a gentle human hand, and yet fears it.
No, the pureblood corrects himself, not fears it. That was not the metaphor he should have used.
A gentle chime interrupts his thoughts, and Yuuki stirs against Kiryuu, reaching out and smooshing him more closely against her side. Kaname notes that without Kiryuu flush against him, the air is a little cold. Not that purebloods need fear such things, but he will speak to the servants about turning the heat higher tomorrow.
The chime continues to ring. Yuuki's braid came undone during the night, and her face is buried in her pillow somewhere beneath a wild nest of hair. She groans and finally approaches consciousness when the noise refuses to go away. A hand appears from underneath the covers, and the corners of Kaname's mouth turn up as it blindly gropes its way to shut off the alarm. Still refusing to face the evening, but too awake to simply fall back to sleep, Yuuki's arms venture out again in the cooler air and reach for Kiryuu like a favorite toy.
The whole time, Kiryuu doesn't stir, continuing to lie limply and let himself be handled like a doll. The line of Kaname's mouth flattens. He's not worried, of course - Aido and the doctor insist Kiryuu is healing well - but such a drastic change in Kiryuu's sleeping habits says more than the Hunter ever will about his state. Kiryuu never complains, and he remains stubbornly stoic when it comes to his own pain, but he gives himself away with small telltales like that.
Mate is strong, consoles the alpha. Mate will heal and be well. We will take care of him.
Yuuki has finally summoned the will to force her body in an upright position, and is tucking the covers back around Kiryuu with one hand as the other combs knots of hair out of her eyes.
"I'm showering first," she yawns, and stumbles out of bed, pureblood's grace the only thing saving her from going nose-first into the carpet when she trips on a fold of bedding.
As the water turns on, Kaname rises and sees to his own morning routine, leaving Kiryuu to sleep in the leftover warmth of the bed. And if he makes sure the sheets cover Kiryuu all the way before he leaves, Kaname certainly doesn't need to make excuses for seeing to the needs of his own Consort.
Kaname rose, washed and returned to bed before Yuuki woke. All that's left is to finish dressing and touch up his appearance, tasks he completes in little time, leaving him to wait in the sitting room as his wife prepares for her day. Sipping tea in an armchair with one leg crossed over the other, and flipping through the morning reports Seiren left for him, Kaname has line of sight into the bedroom and can watch for any signs of Kiryuu waking. But the Hunter stays stubbornly insensate, curled up on himself now that he isn't sharing warmth from the purebloods on either side.
"Kaname," Yuuki asks, her dark hair bundled in a towel, threading cufflinks through the sleeves of her dress, "I have a meeting first thing this evening, and I need to leave soon. Can you call Sasaki-san? I know you're working at the house today, but I want to feed Zero before I go."
Since the attack, the Kurans never leave their Consort alone in the house. One of them will always stay at Rosehill, in case someone foolish tries to test their promises. It had taken Kaname many oaths and reassurances before Yuuki was willing to leave Kiryuu in her husband's care longer than a few hours. By now, he has passed enough tests to earn her cautious confidence, and he need not reswear his old oaths every time she leaves for the day.
When Kaname nods, Yuuki whirls back around into the bedroom, and the hair dryer goes on. He chuckles - some things never change - and picks up his phone. Yuuki's request fulfilled, the pureblood returns to the reports, considering every word with care, eyes narrowing now and then as he reads particularly unwelcome news.
A knock at the door, and Kaname swings the door open with a touch of power rather than break his concentration and answer it himself, only raising his head when the newcomer stands respectfully beside him.
"Kuran-sama," Sasaki greets him and curtsies, spreading the skirts of her house livery.
Kaname nods, and calls out to Yuuki, who sticks her head out of the bathroom door, manner halfway between 'dignified pureblood princess' and 'ragamuffin with bed hair who didn't want to get up this early.'
"Sasaki-san, sorry we're earlier than usual. Let me get Zero up for you," Yuuki says, moving toward the bed, running her hand over the dark wood of the ornately carved headboard.
Sasaki curtsies again. "It's no trouble, Kuran-hime. A servant of the Kuran should at least be able to do this much."
The beta vampire makes no motion to enter the bedroom. A sensible move, not to invade an alpha's territory when their injured, sleeping omega is occupying it.
Yuuki sits down on the edge of the bed, mindful of creasing her skirts, and reaches out to gently pull the bundle of sheets surrounding Kiryuu close, unwinding them little by little to reveal their slumbering Consort, still insensible and breathing deeply, silver hair hiding some of the ragged wounds on his face.
"Zero, wake up," Yuuki calls, and kisses him, shallowly and gently, until Kiryuu's eyes flicker open, bleary with sleep, and he begins trying to kiss back.
"Ew, you have morning breath," Yuuki teases, and Kiryuu swats at her weakly, mouth pulling into a sour expression.
"Shush, stupid pureblood," he grumbles, lavender eyes sharpening every second with awareness. Swift wakefulness was another piece of his Hunter training he retained even as badly injured as he was. "You don't even get morning breath any more, you cheater," he complains, trying to pull himself upright.
Yuuki laughs, and helps Kiryuu prop himself up on the decorative pillows. "Can you leave the room for a moment, Sasaki-san?" she asks, and when the servant obeys, unwraps the decorative scarf tucked around her neck.
Kiryuu knows his part in this routine, and his eyes are soft and fond as he reaches out to skim the bare skin above her jugular with the tips of his fingers.
Yuuki shivers - Kiryuu probably doesn't realize how intimate that gesture really is for vampires - and hurriedly guides Kiryuu to her neck, helping him support his upper body. The scent of her blood has him salivating, and the sounds of Kiryuu drinking do not leave his body unmoved.
Something has changed between the two of them in the past few weeks, Kaname knows, watching Yuuki's back from the doorway. Whatever chasm lay between them when Yuuki left Cross Academy doesn't keep them apart any longer. Kiryuu and Yuuki have crossed the final space dividing them, keeping them apart, and Kaname feels conflicted - a familiar mix of envy and jealousy, and fear that the two of them becoming closer will necessarily mean Kaname is left standing farther away. His natural reaction would be to revenge himself upon the source of such feelings.
But Kaname knows now that however it might satisfy him, acting on his jealousy will not solve the source of his problems. Punishing Yuuki would hurt him as much as it reassured him he would not lose her, and he has no appetite anymore for harming Kiryuu.
The pureblood has even allowed Kiryuu to injure his pride many times since the attack, and not once has Kaname exacted revenge for it. Every time Kaname tries to contemplate a swift, humiliating consequence when Kiryuu challenges him, the image of Kiryuu near death will rise up in his mind, and the urge leaves him. So Kaname, bewildered at times, has let his pride be trampled on by a mere Hunter. At least Kiryuu has the sense not to challenge him in public, or then Kaname really would need to reply in kind.
Yuuki lowers a satiated Kiryuu back down onto the pillows, scattering kisses over his cheekbones and forehead as she goes, paying special attention to the worst of his scars. To Kaname's eye, his wife is rather obviously trying to control her breathing, and carefully keeping her lower half away from contact with Kiryuu. With one final kiss, she hurries into the bathroom, calling Sasaki back as she rushes to hide from temptation, shutting the door behind her.
Kaname struggles not to laugh. Yuuki need not be so concerned. Kiryuu's injuries mean her primal instincts in certain areas are being naturally suppressed in favor of protecting their injured omega (though when Kiryuu is healthy again…).
"I'll see you at dinner, okay Zero?" she calls through the wood, and Kiryuu makes an indistinct response, flustered by the kisses.
Kaname has mercy on his wife, and approaches the bed, and Kiryuu. "Are you ready to get dressed?"
Kiryuu regards him levelly, with a dignity that would not suggest he was lying helplessly on his back in his nightclothes. "Yes, thank you."
Kaname, in a single practiced motion, scoops both Kiryuu and the sheets off the bed. Bundled up in his arms, the Hunter looks up at him with those lavender eyes, always refusing to back down in shame, and Kaname meets that gaze, before moving for the door and settling Kiryuu's weight securely in his arms. Sasaki falls into step behind him after collecting Kiryuu's nightrobe and slippers, and they make their way to the Consort's suite in silence.
No one meets them in the Hall; the servants know better than to risk seeing Kiryuu improperly dressed. Who knows if such a sinner would be allowed to live, one who saw a bare shoulder or a slipping neckline, who sought out any sliver of white flesh not meant for impious eyes? Even the idea that someone might witness their Consort's bare feet, the shy strong toes curling in thick carpet, makes Kaname's alpha snarl and spit. Every part of Kiryuu is theirs, and only theirs; Kaname tightens his grip on the thin body in his arms. Kiryuu doesn't move, only slumps without resistance against his chest. Still exhausted, Kaname notes, reminding himself to instruct strict attendance on Kiryuu by his maids today.
Even the Consort's suite is empty, waiting for its master to summon the rest of the maids. But first, Kiryuu must bathe and dress, a delicate operation when he can't stand, yet no one is allowed to see him nude. Kaname climbs the short stairs, deposits the bundle of omega and blankets directly into the empty bath, and goes to the opposite end of the suite to wait.
It has become the custom in Rosehill, to accommodate Kiryuu's injuries, that its masters take breakfast in the dining room of the Consort's suite, instead of the formal dining rooms. Kaname allows the servants to prepare his meal here again this morning, though only the two of them will be eating.
After perhaps forty minutes, Sasaki appears silently in the doorway. That's Kaname's signal to rise, and enter the bathroom with a coil winding in his stomach. The air is damp, and smells of bath oils, herbal essences meant to speed healing and soothe pain. Kiryuu's back is straight, and rests against the side of the white porcelain basin as he stares fixedly at the wall, trails of water dripping from his wet hair. The omega is covered from neck to knees in layer upon layer of thick towels that hide even the suggestion of a body beneath. It's Kaname's task to lift the whole mass up, modestly wrapped underneath by more towels, place the Hunter who is stubbornly ignoring him onto the bed, and then leave again, as Sasaki bows him out.
Another forty minutes later, as Kaname is closing the last of the morning reports, Sasaki appears one final time to invite her master's alpha to collect him for breakfast. Usually Yuuki will take care of Kiryuu's needs in the mornings, but from time to time it falls to Kaname as the two of them strive to bring their followers to heel, for certain this time.
Kiryuu's eyes flick to the door the moment the hinges creak, waiting expectantly on his unused bed dressed in a dark umber brown overrobe with cream and black striped hems. When not subject to society's expectations or fulfilling Yuuki's requests, Kiryuu's clothing in private remains simple and masculine. He prefers dark, rich colors and minimal extravagance - not so dissimilar from Kaname himself, the pureblood realizes in surprise.
When Kaname holds his husband, all bony ribs and shoulders and knees and the teasing, firm press of thigh against the healthy muscle of the pureblood's belly and chest, Kiryuu no longer flinches away like he expects Kaname to drop him. For some reason, that little sign of security makes Kaname's alpha feel satisfied.
Almost as satisfying is learning the shape of his Consort's body through such close, innocent touch. Or knowing that he spends every night in their bed, that no other upstart alpha can sneak in to meet him. But nothing satisfies the alpha like their mate marked by their scents, refreshed each time Kaname or Yuuki carries him.
Kiryuu begins eating his rice as soon as Kaname settles him into his chair, piling on the pickles and grilled fish as though nothing out of the ordinary is taking place, and his shaking hands aren't leaving stray grains fallen on the table.
It has surprised Kaname on many occasions how well Kiryuu has taken to the limits imposed by his injuries.
Kiryuu doesn't try to pretend it isn't difficult. There are many times when Kiryuu becomes frustrated, but he never takes it out on anyone but himself, asking for a little privacy before returning to his habitual stoicism. And he always seeks to improve, with a dogged persistence that whatever indignity he suffers, he refuses to be made ashamed. Perhaps it is this will to survive that led Kiryuu back to Hunting after he became one of the very beasts he Hunted. Cross explained the Hunter perspective on such things, but Kaname cannot conceive of the injuries, let alone how one might be conditioned to accept them.
Kaname has regenerated his whole body from a few cells, lost limbs that regrew in instants and taken hurts that no Hunter would survive with complete indifference. But such injuries are never real to purebloods. They have no consequences, so they may as well not have happened. 'Crippled' - Kaname can no more fathom the concept than a human can understand the eternal thirst for blood. Through Kiryuu, the pureblood is peering through a window onto the surface of an alien planet, a brief taste of that humanness he has envied since his creation.
"Are you not going to eat?" Kiryuu asks, gesturing toward Kaname's untouched meal.
"I was thinking," the pureblood replies, and begins to consume his food, barely tasting the forkfuls of vegetables he mechanically brings to his lips.
Is Kiryuu not ashamed, to need help with simple tasks? Is he not disgusted with himself, and with his body for failing him? Kaname's pride could not bear a single day in Kiryuu's place. Is this also a kind of strength? Or some kind of concealed weakness? Why does Kaname feel again like Kiryuu is a better person than himself?
"Master Yagari is visiting again next week," Kiryuu tells him, trying to make conversation in the silence Yuuki usually fills. "Cross wanted to come too. I told him to do his damn work."
"Really," Kaname replies, sipping his miso soup, the salty taste pairing well with the rice. "I will make a note."
Trying to remain unnoticed, the pureblood studies Kiryuu, who is entirely concentrated on the physical process of eating. Coordinating his hands at the same time he has to fight against his long sleeves falling forward seems to require great effort, and the food often falls off his fork. Yuuki is concerned that Kiryuu is not eating enough because the act causes him difficulty. Kaname makes a note to mention it to Sasaki, who has both the means and the opportunity to correct it.
"Hello there, Yuuki," Kiryuu says out of nowhere, pausing his battle with his meal, and Kaname understands when the Hunter lifts his hand. Dark against the pale skin is one of his wife's butterflies, antennae twitching and fanning itself with the secret spots on its wings.
Kiryuu is mostly finished, and Kaname's appetite has flown, so he asks, "Where will you be today?"
Kiryuu pauses to think, and once he decides says, "The library. Drop me off and I'll leave you alone until lunch."
Kaname waits patiently as Sasaki helps Kiryuu to the toilet after breakfast, and then fulfills the Hunter's request to spend the evening in the library, leaving Nightshade behind him before returning to his study for a late start.
With Yuuki a second shepherd tending their flock, Kaname has found himself with time left in his schedule, enabling lazy days like this. And with the extra hours, Kaname has also found time for some...side projects. And no task is more demanding than plotting the demise of another pureblood. Eliminating Shirabuki Sara isn't a simple thing - it may take years to succeed - and Kaname has much to consider before he can devise even the faintest outline of a plan.
Kaname works steadily, reviewing what he already knows and strongly suspects, calling Seiren occasionally to give his Shadow orders to pass on to his information network. While Kaname is certain Shirabuki was involved in the attempt on Kiryuu's life, the most urgent question is her involvement, or not, in the army of Level Ds, and the questing tests of Kiryuu's abilities. It could be one pureblood at fault, or the intersection of several pureblood plots.
Shirabuki's first meeting with Kiryuu is suspicious because of the Level D attack that preceded it, and certainly engineered by her, but it is not proof. Many purebloods use Turned humans as disposable pawns. All Kaname can do is continue searching for information, for any clue to hint at the army's master and purpose.
The pureblood leans back in his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he breathes out, drops his hand to his lap, and reaches out to the presences in the back of his mind. Yuuki is focusing intently on something, so Kaname decides not to distract her with his attentions, carefully muting his end of their bloodbond.
The other point of awareness cannot be muted, sending the pureblood countless sensations and images every second. Kaname touches it lightly, and receives the feeling of a hand resting on his back, and the sound of a page turning. Seeking the connection more fully, Kaname closes his eyes, and opens them again to see dark umber cloth. He tilts his muzzle upwards, and there is Kiryuu's familiar face, with its terrible scars, relaxed and distant as he reads.
Kaname should have realized, when he promised Nightshade to Kiryuu, just what he was getting himself into. Even when Kiryuu isn't present, his existence burns all the time in Kaname's mind, just the way Yuuki does, shadowing him wherever he hides. The pureblood finds himself looking up during meetings with the echo of low laughter in his ears; in empty rooms he sees the whisk of skirts out of the corner of his eye; he bends his head to a flower and receives salty, clean sweat instead.
Before, in secrecy, Kaname spent only a few days in Kiryuu's company through Nightshade, and then barely saw the Hunter while he stayed at Rosehill. Now Kaname spends his nights sleeping next to the real Kiryuu, and his days standing by the Hunter's side as Nightshade.
Kiryuu has been pressing into his senses for weeks, an assault of stimuli on every front - the omega-sweet smell of him, the soft tenor of his voice, the guilty sight of his scarred face, the shaking touch of his hand, and Kaname's returned touch on his body, even sometimes the taste of him, when Nightshade licks his hands in play.
Being able to watch someone he has claimed at all hours of the day and night appeals to Kaname's obsessive and possessive nature, and his alpha heartily approves. But counterpoint to the pleasure, there's a lingering sense that this is Kiryuu, a leftover habit of avoidance and distaste, continuing on its own momentum without Kaname's intention.
And there's so much detritus. From his spying, Kaname already knows which psychic levers and triggers he needs to move Kiryuu. He knows Kiryuu is a good man, who loves Yuuki, and who cares about his fellow men in sticky, sappy ways Kaname will never feel himself. Anything extra is unnecessary.
What is Kaname supposed to do with his increasingly specific discoveries - the way he knows how Kiryuu takes his tea, or the way Kiryuu just huffs when he hits his shins on furniture. What do people do with this kind of minutiae? What is it for, when Kiryuu is neither his love nor his subordinate, but some murky, undecided position he hasn't fully recognized? What does Kaname want from Kiryuu Zero, if it's not suffering or indifference?
The most important butterfly whispers, and Yuuki runs, clattering through the halls of Rosehill in her heels, heading straight for one of the small courtyard gardens. She wouldn't stop now if Kaname and heaven itself commanded her.
Hurry, hurry, the alpha chants, pacing in the back of her mind.
Chatter, and the plink of falling water as she breaks into the moonlight, traveling at the blurring top speeds her pureblood body can produce. The cluster of maids in her path shatters like a flock of doves, and Yuuki throws herself to her knees on the pavestones.
"Are you hurt, Zero?" she asks, fear caught in her throat, hands going out to test his healing back for re-injury. The image her butterfly had sent her was Zero, twisted on his side as he hit the ground. His green, loose overcoat - one she bought for him - is dirty on the shoulder, proof that her familiar told her true, though his maids have helped straighten his body.
Resting his head on his forearms, and seemingly unperturbed, Zero shakes his head. "I'm fine, Yuuki. I just overreached and fell, that's all."
Laid out on his side, Zero winces as he shifts his weight.
Yuuki frowns at him, and Zero's cheeks flush.
"Maybe a few bruises," he admits, looking chastened. Zero tries to lift himself up with his arms, and it seems like he might succeed, but after a few seconds they shake and collapse under his own weight.
Her Consort almost falls again, but Yuuki catches him lightning-quick, pulling his body into her lap. He's bigger than she is, but anything can be accomplished with enough determination, and Yuuki wants her body between Zero and another fall.
And touching mate is always good, the alpha reminds her.
"Are you sure that's all?" she questions him again, using her thighs like the seat of a chair as she arranges Zero's position, draping his legs off to one side and turning his body toward her.
Zero is blushing again, and it's cute. "I am. Nightshade protected me from a hard fall. He moved so I hit his body, and then rolled onto the ground. My dignity and I are bruised, but everything else is fine."
Yuuki's gusty, relieved exhale makes Zero's bangs fly crooked. She hangs her head, and the muscles in her back loosen.
"Could one of you bring Consort Kiryuu some ice for his bruises?" she calls out to the maids. "And tea," she adds. "My tea, not the caffeine free ones Consort Kiryuu is allowed to have. And something for him to eat as well."
Zero's maids all volunteer at once. Sasaki-san clicks her tongue for silence and taps two of them to fulfill Yuuki's request; the women hurry off to obey.
"Thank you," Yuuki says, relief creeping into her bones now that she knows Zero is safe. "Could the rest of you leave the two of us alone. I promise my Consort is in good hands."
Sasaki murmurs acknowledgement, and the maids curtsey and file out in a neat line.
Zero's wolf approaches now that the maids aren't hovering, whining anxiously until Zero pats him on the head.
"Thank you too, Nightshade," Yuuki says, envious again of Kaname's magnificent familiar. She loves her butterflies, and she's proud of them, but they aren't as useful in situations like this. And Zero can't cuddle with part of her power the way he can with Kaname's, she adds childishly inside her head. Kaname doesn't even appreciate it.
The wolf seems to sense the serious atmosphere, and retreats again to sit watching the two of them a few paces away, his tail curled around his paws and his head cocked sideways.
"Zero," Yuuki says, catching his eyes as they're face to face, "you were lucky you weren't hurt. Why didn't you ask for help instead of trying to reach for the pen yourself?
Zero's expression goes flat, and he lowers his chin so his silver bangs hide his eyes. "I wanted to try. I should be able to do something so simple for myself."
Yuuki pulls him forward to rest his chin on her shoulder. It makes Zero, with his greater height, have to lean farther than she knows is dignified, but he makes no complaint.
"It's been over a month," he mutters. "Nothing's changed."
"You are getting better," she reminds him. "I can see a difference already. You can stay awake longer, and your open wounds have mostly healed. They said it would take months. It will come back to you."
"I know," Zero sighs mutinously.
"It makes me afraid when things like this happen," Yuuki confesses into his soft hair. "Please, next time ask? For me?"
"For you," Zero promises.
Yuuki rubs his back to reassure both of them, then urges Zero up to look at her again, a sudden impulse breeding an impetuous decision. "Can I ask you something serious? Something I've wanted to ask you for a while now."
Zero's brow creases, and he considers her face for a moment. "That's fine," he finally says, and she lifts him up onto the wide stone bench in front of the courtyard's fountain, dusting off the side of his gown, and then her own knees and seat.
Yuuki stands, wringing her hands with nervousness as she starts to second-guess herself. Why did she pick a place like this to ask? She was hoping to find the perfect time, but the request just slipped out all of a sudden. But she can't stop now. She has to follow through!
"Yuuki," Zero says with a hint of humor, "it's fine. Go ahead and ask."
Feeling like a teenager again, Yuuki smacks her cheeks to focus herself, then tucks her nervous hands behind her back and takes a deep breath, drawing her shoulders back, and letting the words escape in a rush.
"Zero, will you bloodbond with me!"
"What," Zero says.
"Maybe I should kneel? This seems like a kneeling thing," Yuuki says to herself, so she does, getting down on one knee.
More slowly this time, she looks up into Zero's face and says, "I'm asking you to bloodbond with Kaname and I, Zero. I almost lost you. That's helped me see things more clearly. Things that I need to change. And things that I want, things that matter to me. And what I want is for you to be part of me the same way Kaname is."
Yuuki takes his hand without resistance. "And if we bloodbond, I'll be able to find you anywhere in the world, and you'll never face such danger again."
Zero doesn't look overjoyed - Yuuki's first warning that this isn't going how she planned - but he presses his lips together and considers her request seriously. "What would that mean?" he asks, voice distant. "You told me about what your bond with Kuran is like. Would a second bond change that?"
The pureblood shakes her head. "My bond with Kaname won't be affected. Adding a third person is like turning a line into a triangle - you draw new lines to fill in the gaps, without erasing the first foundation line. And the nature of your bloodbonds with us won't be like the one between Kaname and I. As two alphas, our bloodbond was meant build a stable hierarchy, but you won't be part of that. You'll still feel the usual emotional echoes and the direction sense, but that's all."
Looking at their joined hands, Zero says, "How much would Kuran be part of this," the words not quite a question.
"Kaname would be fully involved, the same as our marriage," Yuuki replies, feeling cautious somehow. "I'm bonded to him. Any future bloodbond I form has to include him as an equal partner."
"So I have to also bond with Kuran, to bloodbond with you," Zero says, tone casual, but his eyes are steely when he looks up.
That's the moment Yuuki knows she's lost. "Yes," she says, feeling papery-thin, with a ball of tears in her throat. "The new bloodbond will fail if we don't."
The Hunter cradles Yuuki's hand in both of his, and his kind eyes just make her feel more like crying. "When I asked Takuma-sempai why most alpha couples don't form a full bloodbond - or why most vampire couples don't bloodbond at all - he told me that it's so intimate that you don't do it unless you are absolutely, totally sure that's what you want, and even then you should stop to think again before you try. Because you can't undo it, and it won't work unless you really, completely want it to. Being in someone else's head all the time - it's not for everyone."
Zero tugs Yuuki to her feet, and she doesn't resist the pull, looking down at him with uncertainty.
He squeezes her hands as he looks up to meet her eyes. "Yuuki, I know you love me, but I'm not sure if you're doing this because you want to protect me or if you really are ready for this. And I sure as hell don't want Kuran permanently in my head. So I'm sorry, but I can't accept your offer. But that doesn't mean my feelings for you have changed. I love you, the same as I always have."
In the background, the maids clatter into the room with ice and tea and food. Neither Yuuki nor Zero notice, but Nightshade is crouched down on his belly, ears pinned flat against his skull, looking as flat and small as possible for an animal of his size.
She's disappointed, but Yuuki understands his reasoning. "Thank you for telling me your feelings honestly," she says, and closes her eyes so she doesn't make Zero feel guilty at the dampness.
A shadow writhes and lengthens; Kaname stalks toward Kiryuu wearing the familiar that was, a few milliseconds ago, Nightshade. He cannot quantify the emotion running white-hot in his veins, but he knows that he needs to see the Hunter in person.
Yuuki has gone, the maids have been sent away, and his Consort is alone, staring into a cup of tea - caffeinated tea, that his doctor has ordered him specifically not to drink - like he is attempting some form of meditation. Kiryuu looks stone-faced, stoic as his most inscrutable moods.
Kaname does not make a sound, yet Kiryuu looks up anyway as the pureblood closes in, no surprise on his face. At the sight of Kaname, the corners of his mouth tighten slightly, and his posture turns wary and suspicious.
"Why are you here, Kuran," Kiryuu says, keeping his voice even, with a hint of tension underneath.
"Why did you refuse Yuuki?" Kaname demands instead, whatever emotion rules him bubbling up in his chest. Somehow, that was not the question he meant to ask, but he can't grasp the real source of his turmoil.
Kiryuu looks back down at his cup. "You heard why," he replies, again in that irritatingly even tone.
Kaname allows himself a lapse in control.
The porcelain cup shatters into powder against the far courtyard wall, Kaname's pureblood strength making it an easy feat.
Startled by the way the cup whisked itself out of his grasp without harming him or spilling a single scalding drop, Kiryuu tries to find something to do with his suddenly empty hands. He settles on tucking them up in his sleeves. "I wasn't going to drink that," he says with a voice clean of anger or fear.
Kaname bares his fangs. "Would you really deny Yuuki something she desperately wants, just because you hate me?"
"I don't hate you," Kiryuu replies in the same calm manner as before, complete contrast to Kaname's whirlwind. "And don't pretend that saying no to Yuuki was easy for me."
"If you don't hate me, then why use me as an excuse?" Kaname argues.
Kiryuu inhales and makes a small shake of his chin. "You've acted decent to me lately, Kuran. But one month of indifference doesn't outweigh a lifetime of spite. I don't trust you. You've never given me a reason to trust you. I'm still not sure this sudden niceness isn't part of some scheme - you do like to build your opponents up before you crush them. You're the last person I would trust to know what's going on in my head."
Kaname tightens his fists until the bones creak.
"Why did you starve yourself when you were a Hunter?" Kaname shoots the question at Kiryuu, desperate to provoke a reaction.
With his first hint of anger, Kiryuu replies, "You're not entitled to know everything about everyone, Kuran Kaname, just because you want to." The Hunter challenges him with an unblinking gaze. "Please leave, husband."
And without understanding why, Kaname does, turning on his heel and storming away.
Zero should be grateful. Ancestress knows things could have been much worse. His spine was broken twice, yet Zero can still wiggle his toes and feel every sensation below his waist. Other injured Hunters would weep to be so blessed. Other Hunters would be glad just to be alive. It's a miracle - but Zero, with the impossible, unthinkable promise of full recovery dangling before him, wants what he should never have been able to dream.
His miraculous recovery is possible only because he is not human, with a human's weakness and freedom. Zero's mind is fighting that truth, though it's written more concretely on his body than ever. When he sits alone in his bath, the only privacy permitted to him, he turns his limbs around and around, searching in the slopes and valleys of his body like he's looking for his lost mortality as he watches the way fatal wounds seal over, leaving horrendous scars that will soon also fade.
Sitting alone on his bench in the predawn hours, watching the flow of the fountain splashing into its bowl, Zero tilts his head back, and lifts his hands to block out the stars. Kiryuu Zero is a vampire. I am Kiryuu Zero. Therefore -
He leans back too far, concentrated on stilling the little twitches in his fingers, and nearly overbalances. Zero cries out, and pulls his hands back down to quickly clutch the stone edge of his seat, fearful of another fall.
No one comes to investigate the noise. The maids and servants Yuuki sent away. Yuuki and Kuran have come and gone, and Kuran took Nightshade with them. If one of Yuuki's butterflies is nearby, Zero can't sense it. Zero is really, truly alone, for the first time in a long time.
Since he was Turned, acceptance always hinged on what Zero could accomplish with his tainted body; he earned his place because of what he could do with his hands and feet. All of that means nothing now. Zero's worth lies in the rare vampire uterus inside him, the sole reason people keep taking care of him now. Zero finds it strange, the way they attend to his every need; Zero has never had other people take care of him so much. He once compared himself in this state to a doll, but he's more like an infant, incapable of doing the smallest thing for himself.
That's why he tries to push himself sometimes, but as he shifts and his bruises sting, he is reminded of how badly that failed. Yuuki's request startled him, but Zero knows he gave the right answer. It doesn't feel like it. The guilt of hurting someone he loves, again. Zero clenches the fabric above his heart. He's helpless on his own, and now he's disappointed Yuuki and angered Kuran.
Zero can't hold his back straight without support any longer, so he has to flop down on the bench to rest. He closes his eyes. His new bruises don't mean much. Zero is always in pain now. Pain when he moves, pain when he lies still. It hurts to move, it hurts to rest, it hurts to speak or eat or wash or breathe. It's the pain of knitting tissues and regenerating nerves, but pain nonetheless. It ebbs when he feeds, and threatens to swamp him when he goes too long without medicine, but it's always there. Zero's forgotten what life feels like when you can move without burning aches and stabbing cramps.
Slowly, Zero realizes that he has no way to call for anyone. He's too weak to move from his seat, exhausted by his fall, and he's far from the bell the servants are trained to answer. Without familiars, or servants, or his own abilities, all Zero can do is lie here, on this bench, and wait for someone to remember him.
He comes to this conclusion calmly, without panic - there's too much Hunter training in him to panic over a small thing like this. Perhaps he could attract someone if he made enough noise, but his pride stops him, unless there's a real emergency.
So Zero lies there, and he thinks. He thinks about how reliant he is on Yuuki and Kuran for his physical survival. How weak he is, how needy. How they must be tired of dealing with him right now, after he's upset them.
It makes him afraid.
He wonders, the self-doubt and the physical suffering of not having fed since dusk warping his thoughts - what if they just leave him here for a few hours, as the sun rises? Leave him outside for the heat of the day to punish him, to scorch his vampire's flesh, to make him more pliable, more grateful, less of a troublesome Hunter, more of a good, obedient Consort.
Zero huddles underneath the cloth of his wide sleeves, like a bird sheltering itself under a broken wing, and waits, because he has no other choice. He needs an answer to his doubts - to know, one way or another, how things turn out. Perhaps, raised by his exhaustion, this is the ghost of a twelve-year-old boy speaking, one who saw almost everyone he knew abandon him the first time his body betrayed him.
He waits.
And they come.
Together, with their mirrored ruby eyes and dark red-brown hair, they come for him when it's time for dinner, and the sky is still cool full-dark and dappled with stars. They don't leave him for the sun, helplessly trapped on his bench as the burning orb rises.
They scoop him up with a flurry of apologies, realizing their error, dismayed and full of self-reproach. He gets to lap hot, burning blood from his husband's throat, as much as he wants, and is carried nestled like a child with his warm, full stomach to be fed mortal foods. His wife presses small pieces of the best portions on him, feeding him with her own hands, and he eats everything she offers him with relish, the taste rich and satisfying.
They have good reason to be angry with him, but both purebloods still step forward when it's time to carry him to bed. They settle on taking turns, and Zero lets them pass him back and forth, from one pair of arms to the next without fuss, accepting each new offered security without shame.
Fighting his long sleeves, Zero curls an arm around each of their necks, like a yoke - or a collar - and feels the fear inside him go quiet, and shrink, just a little.
As usual, it's Kaname's fault. Yuuki took a piece out of his hide when she realized he picked Dramatic Exit instead of using his head.
The last three sections take place one after the other, so it's implied that Yuuki left Zero alone with Nightshade after he declined her offer to form a bloodbond, and soon after Kaname took over Nightshade, re-formed him into his own shape, and spoke with Zero, then stormed out without thinking, which left Zero alone. The actual time that passed from Kaname leaving to the Kurans returning was less than two hours - Zero's sense of time in his POV isn't reliable in this case.
Next chapter I promise we'll finally get to the Jeweled Court, but first I needed to fill a plothole pointed out to me by a lovely reviewer who prefers to remain private, and we needed to see where are trio are after such a long gap of time.