"Weep for yourself my man, you'll never be what is in your heart.

Weep little lion man, you're not as brave as you were at the start.

Rate yourself and rake yourself. Take all the courage you have left.

Waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head." - Little Lion man


Ignore it.

The spray of water roars louder than the blood in his head. He's standing too far away, out of reach of the stray droplets, and waits too long for the temperature to get hot before stepping close again.

Hair, body, rinse. It should be thoughtless. Monotony. It shouldn't be exhausting.

The towel tugs at his hair as he rubs it dry. Kyoya grits his teeth.

Ignore it.

He starts to pull on a shirt, then yanks it back off and dries himself off better. Damp clothing chafes at his nerves, gives him that ever familiar sensation of being dragged towards a cliff. The shirt's already damp now, it doesn't matter.

Forget about it.

Reluctantly he pulls it back on. Kyoya used to hate long sleeves, thought they got in the way of anything he wanted to do, but that's changed. No vests, no coats. Nothing loose that can be grabbed. Absolutely no jewelry… even if he misses it.

That isn't important.

What is important is getting stronger. That's all that matters. The only reason for any of this was because he'd been so distracted before, taking his time, getting involved with things that didn't matter as much as being undefeatable, untouchable. The stakes are too high for anything else now.

Before he slips it back into his pocket, Kyoya lets himself ruminate over the bey in his hands. He can't imagine what the others would think about it. The relationship between himself and it wasn't like what any blader and bey normally would have, and he felt that was a good thing. A sign of sanity perhaps. For now, he lets its power entice him, closes his fingers and squeezes. Steeps his lungs with air before taking a mental step back and finally shoving it into his pocket. Kyoya should be shutting it in a case, but that would draw too much attention. His face alone will catch more than enough.

Gingka's pacing the living room with barely repressed restlessness. "You ready Kyoya?" He sounds a little less like he's talking to an injured stray, which is a nice change, though Kyoya doubts it'll be permanent. He's likely too distracted by getting time outside.

Kyoya nods and Gingka opens the door. It's not a big deal. This isn't going to kill him, it's daytime, they'll be in public. Kyoya isn't afraid.

He steps over the frame and his heart clenches. It's been weeks since he first came to the Hagane residence. During that time Kyoya hadn't been outdoors once, hasn't wanted to be. But he can't expect to hide away forever. It's bright outside, sunny in an almost suspiciously cheerful way that holds his mood in such a contrast Kyoya spites it on principle, and he makes himself stare at Gingka's back to block it out. He can't help twitching with the urge to look around for danger.

The farther they walk from the apartment, the tighter his ribcage constricts his lungs, but he can still breathe fine. It's an illusion, just anxiety. Ignore it. Push it down. He follows Gingka through the city, and from the details he catches he knows they're following roads he knows to Madoka's shop. That's where he agreed to go today.

There's a metal scuffing noise behind him. Suddenly he's turned a 360, frozen in place, staring at a bird on a pole.

"Kyoya?"

Slowly, Kyoya turns back to Gingka. Gingka's brow is pressed with worry and confusion, and Kyoya feels a stab of resentment. That look's been given to him far too often, he'd snarl and growl to make it stop- trade it for irritation, fear, anything else. Instead, he just glowers silently until Gingka reluctantly turns around.

Without eyes on him, he notices that he hasn't taken a breath since hearing the bird. A knot in his throat strangles the fresh one he takes.

Kyoya considers dipping his fingers into his pocket and wrapping them over the metal bey for a touch of strength but resists. Madoka's shop isn't too far from here. He just has to do it.

On the other side of the street, someone is walking. An ordinary person, probably in their twenties or thirties, not even glancing at their side of the road. Harmless, he emphasizes to himself. You can't know that, comes the reply. His body crawls with invisible bugs, too exposed, too vulnerable and out in the open, like standing in a field during a lightning storm; a target waiting to happen. But I won't be. He walks a little quicker. It's daytime. They're in public.

Long after the other person walks out of sight Kyoya expects to be attacked from the back, because it's better than not expecting it.

There. Just a few feet away from the shop. He can't run to it, but he wants to. When they open the door it lets out a dinging noise that sends a flinch through his shoulders.

"Hey Gingka, Kyoya!" Madoka greets.

"Hey yourself," Gingka grins. Kyoya ignored the tiny, snipped glances that Gingka has been shooting half the way here because he thought they'd stop. They haven't. "Man, I missed coming here."

"Yeah, it's been boring without you stealing my couch or hanging over my shoulder," She teases.

Kyoya didn't sign up for this.

"Come on, let's go down into my workshop. It'll be more comfortable than hanging around the store."

It occurs to Kyoya that the basement means narrowing all escapes down to one stairway. And suddenly he can't move from this spot.

Gingka notices on the first step, looking over for him again and frowning when he sees Kyoya still at the door. "Uh, Kyoya? Do you… not want to go downstairs?"

No, he doesn't. But acknowledging it makes him bitter. He shakes his head anyways.

"Oh…" Gingka sends a look to Madoka.

She almost succeeds in seeming unruffled by the change, he'd give her points if he wasn't so sick of this game. "That's okay! We can stay up." She smiles, walking back over to lean on the counter. "It's a good thing I planned to close the shop today, so no one will be coming in or anything."

She and Gingka talk for a while. Neither seem to know how to include him in the conversation, which is more than fine. Kyoya stands back past the black racks of packaged bey parts where he can watch the room and waits to leave when Madoka turns to him and asks, "Oh, Kyoya, how's leone doing by the way?"

/

Ryo Hagane had not bitten his nails in years. It was an old habit that he'd thought broken permanently at the time of Gingka's birth, but this case is causing a reappearance. Self consciously he closes his fist to remove the temptation and stands up to pace instead.

"Yes? This is Ryo Hagane, director of Japan's WBBA site, I wanted to talk to you about the kidnappings going on in your area."

"Oh? Mr. Hagane! That's right, I've heard of you," the American accent says in his ear. "You're that new head who's trying to clean things up, right? Good on you."

"Yes, thank you, but I'd like to talk-"

"About the kidnappings, right, right."

The police had gotten a hand on the case recently, but already they seem to go back a long while back. Months. Years perhaps. From numerous states so far. They had a few abandoned bases of operations, but they had a suspected current one that was going to be raided. Two survivors and a few suspects but nothing proved, nothing solid. Nothing to break the case with.

Ryo sighs hard and tries to rub cramps from his forehead while the American on the phone apologizes sympathetically. "No, it's alright. I shouldn't expect anything so soon, I just… want bladers to feel safe again. It isn't fair for people like this to ruin their sport."

"Yeah. I know. I've got two kids who've been blading for a couple years now and I hate seeing what this is doing to them. We'll do everything we can Mr. Hagane, rest assured, I'll contact you if I find anything new."

Ryo lowers the phone and drops his face into a hand. There's a knock at the door, he steels himself and calls, "Yes?"

Tsubasa opens it. "I was checking for patterns in the disappearances with some of the officers. We didn't find anything, they think most of the kidnappings were based on opportunity rather than any sort of goal." He looks grim.

"I see," Ryo nods.

Tsubasa watches him closely before commenting, "Director, you don't look so good."

He manages a chuckle. Now he's even worrying his staff. "I'm fine Tsubasa. A couple of late nights won't kill me." Speaking of which, a coffee would be fantastic right now. His mug seems to have disappeared, however, and while he doesn't want to point fingers, Hikaru has been looking like she wants to stage an intervention.

"How is Kyoya doing?"

Ryo sets down the suspiciously propped up files on his desk he'd been about to check under and gives the question the weight it deserves. "Kyoya is… still recovering his spirit. I'm most concerned about him not speaking. What he could tell us is important, but more important is that it seems that from everyone I've spoken to who've found ties, victim or suspect, to this organization, those ties are all very quiet about questions. I'm beginning to consider that this may not be just a trauma response, but something deeper."

Tsubasa's expression sharpens. "You mean, that this organization doesn't want him giving anything out?"

"Precisely."

"But Kyoya isn't one to obey anyone," Tsubasa argues.

"Which is why I'm so concerned. This group isn't just in this for power, they aren't above using tactics to break people. Even people as strong-willed as Kyoya can't do much to fight someone who's goal is to break someone else." Ryo's voice goes soft. "We already know he was tortured."

At the mention of the mess made of Kyoya's back, Tsubasa stiffens. Ryo hasn't seen much of it since it healed, but enough of the scarring creeps up over the collar of his shirt that Ryo knows it's still there. "T-that's true. You're right Director," Tsubasa sighs.

Ryo sits down in his chair, falling deeper in thought. "I need to get him to a therapist."

"I had wondered why you hadn't already," Tsubasa admits with a prod in his tone.

Ryo replies, "He hasn't been willing to leave the apartment. In the past, I've tried to see if he would, but he's resisted until today."

"Today?"

"Yes, Gingka got him to agree to walk to the B-pit. I don't expect him to be there very long, but progress is progress."

Tsubasa nods thoughtfully, curling his fingers over his chin. Then he says, "I'm going to start looking deeper into some of the company connections I found. Carefully."

Ryo lifts an eyebrow. "Yes, please do not be reckless, we can't afford that."

"I know Director." He walks out, a touch of exasperation to his tone.

For all that Ryo would like to trust him, these recent years have shaken a lot of the naivete left in Ryo, especially in matters of evil and power. The danger Tsubasa is putting himself in just by being involved is more than he likes.

/

"Ahh, Madoka…" Gingka starts to remind her. Kyoya doesn't talk and they all know it. It doesn't mean he can't communicate, if he'd thought this would happen he might have brought leone to show her himself. Instead, he's left to stand there dumbly.

"...Oh. Maybe not right now?" Madoka tries, still watching him for a response.

He crosses his arms and shrugs. Hopefully, the conversation will move off him now.

Madoka doesn't give up. "Well, if it needs any maintenance, my doors are always open."

Meanwhile, Gingka checks the time and his face falters. "Hey, um. I think we need to head back now."

"Oh."

They exchange farewells and finally Kyoya can leave. The walk to the apartment is just as knife-edge tense as before, only his nerves are in the late stages of burnout.

At some point, the ebb and flow of almost painful anxiety seems to blur together. He stops paying it attention- it's just white noise filling his head with static. Mind-numbing static. There are too many alarms going in his head at once and none of them can be shut off, so he just walks. Just follows Gingka.

The end of the short walk feels like the longest hike he's ever made, which would be a disgusting thought if he could think clearly. Kyoya stumbles into his room and collapses on the floor while the walls spin. He doesn't move for a long time.


I'm not proofing this one because I didn't sleep last night so I don't care.

Man, anxiety is just the worst. It burns through everything so quick and then you're useless when you might be in danger. What's the point of that? Also, I've taken the initiative to make Ryo a Sort-of Responsible Adult who doesn't consistently place the fate of the world above the well-being of actual children haha.

I'll occasionally be adding quotes from things that happen to fit. If ya'll hate it let me know. I might not stop, but at least I'll know.