Makoto watches his captor—Rin, he reminds himself—disappear into the darkness with a growing sense of trepidation. The bloodcurdling howls that had broken through the whistling winds hadn't been anything like Makoto would have expected from wild animals; they are the guttural, messy kind of sounds that belong only in nightmares, and this time he's all alone with no Haru to soothe the bad dreams away.

He doesn't understand the ringing laughter that had burst from Rin's mouth when he gave chase to the chimeras. How can someone laugh so freely in the face of such creatures? Perhaps, Makoto thinks, it takes a certain kind of strength, the kind that Makoto knows he lacks, to greet danger head-on without cowering. Haru has it, since he stands between Makoto and Leader, fearless and defiant, and Rin has it in spades, since he seems to revel in the thought of dealing with chimeras while Makoto can't help but fold in on himself and hope and pray for the best.

Tonight, that's exactly what he does; he curls into a shivering ball and burrows deeper into the thin blankets that had served as a makeshift bed. He usually dislikes the dark, but tonight, the dark is infinitely preferable because he's afraid of Seeing too much. This is the first time he's gotten this close to chimeras, but he's heard enough about them from reading the hushed conversations that he sometimes accidentally Sees when he's still half-asleep and his Sight is obstinately roving around his surroundings against his will. He's gotten a little better with controlling it, but it has a habit of acting up when his mind is distracted.

Now is one of those times.

His Sight follows Rin leaping from the tops of the cliffs that they had passed the day earlier. His dark red hair and his sharp teeth are illuminated in the moonlight, and it's a savage yet oddly riveting sight that Makoto's never seen before.

"Where are you hiding?" Makoto reads the words on Rin's lips.

The feral light in his eyes is frightening, but Makoto is too helpless to turn away. The fear is clouding his mind, making him unable to control his Sight, and every moment he spends waiting for the next chimera roar is not helping one bit.

"Found you."

No! I don't want to see...

But his Sight, in its cruelty, shows him everything. The severe curve of the scorpion tail whipping wildly in anticipation of feeding, the powerful jaws lined with two rows of fangs dripping with thick saliva, the rough fur along its back standing on edge, the great big paws tipped with claws longer than the length of Makoto's hand, all these he Sees without meaning to. His breath comes faster, his heart thudding loudly in his chest as he makes fruitless attempts to stop Seeing.

But it's no use, not when he's this paralysed with fear. He has no choice but to watch. His nails dig into the meat of his palm, and he's fairly sure that he's drawn blood, but this little pain is not enough to break his Sight's hold on his mind.

Then, Rin comes upon the pack of chimeras like a sandstorm, all whirling limbs and flashing eyes. He jumps right into the fray with no trace of hesitation. He goes straight for the nearest one, grappling with it until he's shoved its gaping maw into the sand.

Rin isn't even close to half the size of the smallest one, but that doesn't stop him. He kicks and punches with reckless abandon, and even when one grazes his arm and leaves a long shallow gash, he doesn't slow down.

Makoto should be relieved that he's getting rid of the chimeras so easily, but there's something dark written on Rin's face that makes him even more afraid than the chimeras. The delight in his grin as he tears the tail off one monster, as he rips out the throat of another with his bare hands, it's all too much. Too much blood, too much fur and teeth and guts lying scattered on the desert sand.

Stop it. Please...

His Sight refuses to listen to him. Makoto clenches his eyes shut, but the images just keep coming.

The chimera pack scatters, yelping like wounded animals. Only one remains, huddling close against the cliff wall farthest from Rin.

"Last one, huh?" Rin's lips say as he saunters over to the lone creature. Rin walks among the scattered eviscerated chimera corpses without batting an eyelid, like he's merely taking a leisurely stroll.

Rin is just being thorough, Makoto tries to tell himself. If he doesn't get rid of this one, it might come after them and that would be too dangerous especially if it strikes when they least expect it. But something in the way the chimera holds itself, like it's protecting something, tugs at Makoto.

Then he sees it. A chimera cub hiding behind the flanks of the first one. One of its legs looks shriveled; with that leg, running fast enough to escape would be near-impossible.

As Rin comes ever closer, the adult chimera's jaws open in a terrible roar that Makoto swears he can almost hear. Rin tosses his head defiantly and keeps moving towards the two chimera.

At first, when Makoto sees Rin register the presence of the cub, he thinks that maybe Rin would decide to let them go after all. He sees Rin pause, and thinks back on the muttered apology as he knocked Makoto out, remembers the little kindnesses on their journey like the keffiyeh on his head and the larger portions of water Rin silently gives him.

But then Rin's mouth widens into a grin.

No!

Thick, ropey blood arcs high into the air, the chimera's still weakly-beating heart crushed in Rin's fist. The bigger chimera drops to the sand, kicking up a flurry of dust that obscures his Sight for a moment.

When the dust clears, the cub is gently nudging the corpse beside it, nipping at it when it refuses to move.

Just then, it's like losing Mother all over again.

I can't breathe.

He gasps, fingers trembling uncontrollably, flashes of cold, still hands clutching his arms and memories of dirt under his fingernails as he tries to give his mother the proper burial she deserves. It all comes back to him, and although he had thought he'd come to terms with it three years ago, seeing the cub desperately nuzzling its mother's side tears the scars wide open, only this time there is no Haru to help him push past the pain.

Tears flow freely from his eyes, and his Sight finally seems to take pity on him. His vision slowly darkens.

The last thing he sees before it goes completely dark is Rin reaching for the cub with bloodstained hands.


It takes a while for Rin to come back, and in the time between his Sight going dark and Rin's return, Makoto manages to scrape together some semblance of control.

"Makoto? Still awake?" Rin calls out tentatively. It sounds a bit strange, hearing his name after so many days of being addressed as 'boy' or 'you'. Makoto finds himself subconsciously comparing the way Rin says it to the way Haru does. Rin sounds a bit hesitant, like he isn't sure he's saying it right, while Haru calls his name like it's something he's always been meant to say, the word seeming to come as easily as breathing to him.

Haru...

"Look! I got us some fresh meat!" Rin's voice turns excited at the prospect of a change from their usual diet of bland cooked oats and tough dried meat.

Makoto doesn't stir from underneath the blankets; he has no appetite, especially not after seeing all that blood. Maybe if Rin thinks he's asleep, he won't push the matter any further.

He hears Rin come closer to him and stoop down beside his prone form. The hand on his shoulder feels damp, or it may just be his imagination, but Makoto suddenly can't shake the image of Rin's red-soaked hands. He shudders and rolls away, taking the blankets with him.

"Makoto?" He can't honestly say that he can read Rin's voice—not the way he can with Haru's—but he thinks he detects hurt there.

"I-I'm not hungry," Makoto stutters. "But thanks."

It's a poor attempt to re-establish the truce they had unofficially declared before Rin had rushed off into the night, but it seems to be enough for the red-haired boy.

"All right, then," Rin replies, decidedly more upbeat now. "Maybe in the morning?"

"Y-Yeah," the weak response comes.

For the first time since that night in the cave, Makoto doesn't slip into slumber easily. He tosses and turns, only managing to sleep sometime in the dark before dawn, and even then, in his dreams he is drowning in an endless pool of thick, dark blood.


True to his word, once morning dawns, Rin has a relatively rich spread of food waiting to greet Makoto. To speed things along, Makoto calls upon his Sight to help him eat. Today, it responds easily, perhaps as a sort of apology for its errant behaviour the night before. Makoto decides not to confront Rin about the run-in with the chimeras; he doesn't want to be accused of spying when he really hadn't meant to use his Sight. Besides, the sooner he forgets the horrors of the previous night, the better.

Still, a night plagued by nightmares makes for poor rest, so Makoto finds himself drifting off as he gulps down the thick stew. His forehead smacks against the lip of the wooden bowl in his hand, splashing a bit of the stew on himself.

Rin chuckles at his consequent jerking up in surprise, and Makoto can't help but think that Rin has a nice smile when he's like this, all jovial and friendly. Makoto returns his smile, albeit a bit uneasily, because it's like this Rin and last night's Rin are two completely different people, and for once, Makoto's Sight can't tell him which of the two is the real Rin. That scares him more than he'd like to admit, because between his whole world being turned upside down, his Sight is one of the few things he had thought he can rely on.

But when Rin reaches over and swipes a stray glob of stew from his chin, laughing at him teasingly and telling him he eats like a baby, Makoto decides that it would be nice if Rin stayed like this all the time.

Once the meal is over, they start packing up. It's a familiar routine by now, familiar enough that Makoto can help with the little things. It must be odd, having a prisoner help with rolling up the blankets, but Makoto doesn't want to just sit there and do nothing. The voice in his head, the one that sounds like Haru, chides and reprimands him for making things easy for his captor to take him away. Makoto silently replies, as he always does, that perhaps making friends with his captor can be a way for him to escape.

Sometime during the journey towards the mountain range looming over them, Makoto had given up on escaping through ordinary means; Rin is obviously too fast, too alert even for someone without Makoto's handicap. After thinking on it, he had decided on a new course of action: befriend Rin and try to convince him to let Makoto go. Besides, traveling in silence is lonely, and Makoto has never been good at handling loneliness.

It had been a welcome surprise—one he hadn't been expecting at all—when Rin himself had reached out and introduced himself. He ignores the niggling guilt in his stomach when he thinks how cruel he's being in toying with someone else's feelings for his own gain.

When everything is ready, Rin picks Makoto up like always, only this time he's not silent like before. As he races across the sand dunes with enough speed to whip up a whirlwind of dust in their wake, Rin speaks of so many things, like the oasis that they're aiming to reach before sunset and how the water is so blue it looks like a piece of the sky. Makoto listens to the sound of Rin's voice, and it's like he can almost see the images that Rin is talking about. It's nothing like his Sight, where the images are unmistakeably clear; it's more like a feeling that brings up a picture of rippling blue ringed by swaying green, and it's like nothing Makoto's ever experienced. It's similar to Haru's paintings, but at the same time it's completely different.

It's nice, peaceful, so of course it doesn't last for long.

"Ah, it's a good thing we had that meat, huh?" Rin finishes off his tangent about the difficulties of traveling on foot over desertland compared to traveling in the southern oases. Makoto can hear the grin, tinged with a little nostalgia, in his voice.

"Yeah," he nods in reply. Today's journey is over rougher terrain that takes more of Rin's energy to cross, so it really is good that they had something more substantial than oats and gruel.

"I don't usually cook chimera but—"

Eh?

It hadn't occured to him to question where the meat had come from. In hindsight, it's obvious; Rin had returned with the meat immediately after he had dealt with the chimera pack after all.

How could I have been so stupid?

Bile rises violently up his throat, its bitter taste singeing his tongue. He only just barely manages to squirm out of Rin's arms and tumble gracelessly to the ground before he empties the contents of his stomach on the hot sand.

"Makoto! What's wrong?!"

On his hands and knees, he heaves and heaves until there's nothing left to throw up. The image of the cub and its mother is burned into his mind, and Makoto feels sick when he remembers how he'd slurped up every last drop of the stew, grateful for something so filling. The chunks of partially-digested meat he had thrown up mock him, and Makoto imagines the accusing eyes of the chimera cub staring at him, whispering Why? in a voice that reminds him of himself.

Why didn't you save her?

Rin rubs his hand up and down Makoto's back, but it doesn't soothe him at all.

"I saw what you did," Makoto whispers, unable to stop himself from shivering. "With the chimera and its cub."

"Oh," a surprised Rin says. "Okay."

The fact that Rin admits it so easily, and the obvious confusion on his face tells him that Rin doesn't find anything wrong with what he'd done.

"Why?" Makoto's voice sounds harsh even to his own ears. Rin rears back as if he was slapped.

"Why did you have to kill them?"

Makoto searches Rin for any trace of remorse but when he finds nothing but bewilderment, a vengeful voice in his head repeats 'Haru wouldn't have done that' until it becomes a mantra that eventually bursts free from his mouth.

Anger darkens Rin's eyes, and he looks so much like last night's Rin that Makoto immediately regrets his words. Not because he doesn't mean them, but because they're something he should have kept to himself.

"Haru this, Haru that!" Rin glares at him. "Well, he's not here. I am. Deal with it."

It may just be Makoto's imagination, but under the venom of Rin's words and the angry flush on his face, there is a faint sense of bitter loneliness.

For the first time, Rin doesn't carry him cradled in his arms. He picks him up and slings him across his shoulder like a sack.


Every step, every leap is jarring, his abdomen uncomfortably pressed to Rin's shoulderbone. The blood rushing to his head is making him dizzy, so he releases his Sight in the hopes that it would help.

It does, a bit, and Makoto wonders if maybe he should have tried to be more understanding. Maybe it's him who's not normal because he thinks even monsters like chimeras are capable of feeling emotions just like humans. It isn't really strange to think nothing of killing animals for food, is it? But no matter how he tries, he sees himself in that little chimera cub that had lost its mother right in front of its eyes. And the notion that he had unknowingly eaten the flesh of either of those two—maybe even both—had been too much.

It had felt wrong, and in the end, Makoto supposes that's where he and Rin are different. Rin had had no qualms about eating the chimera meat even when he had known where it had come from.

Thinking this way is hypocritical anyway, since Makoto has surely eaten meat from other animals before. It's just that seeing the chimera cub like that had dredged up memories that he'd rather keep buried. In the end, he convinces himself that the fault lies with him for being too sensitive and squeamish. It's his fault and no one else's that the events of that night had hit him this hard; he's much too soft, too weak-hearted, just like Leader said.

He can't be a child forever, always cowering behind someone—first his mother, then Haru—whenever he's faced with something he can't handle. Eventually, he has to grow up, and he supposes that this, accepting that the chimeras' deaths had been necessary, is a small step in the right direction.

Now if only he can make himself take that step.

Makoto sighs, his head aching from the heat, from dizziness, and from trying to force his mind to warp his ideals. He's met with little success, so he tries another tactic and puts himself in Rin's shoes.

Rin, who has clearly shown that he intends to keep Makoto alive, at least long enough for them to get to their destination. Rin, who carries the same world-weariness as Haru, but deals with it in a completely different way. Rin, who faces the world with courage born from confidence in his own formidable strength. The Rin that Makoto Sees when he looks into those dark red eyes is the kind of person who wouldn't think twice about reaching out and grabbing whatever he needs or desires.

In his heart, Makoto can't blame Rin, not really, because at the end of the day, he's just doing what he needs to in order to survive. It's no different to what Makoto is trying to do—trying to worm his way past Rin's defenses to save his own skin. It's just that Makoto's method of survival is a bit more subtle, but still no less selfish, in his opinion.

He'd just been overwhelmed before, and it had messed with his thoughts, causing him to push the blame onto the nearest target. That had been wrong simply because it's not right for him to expect Rin to share his perspective on the world. Everyone is entitled to their own set of ideals, Makoto muses, and no one person has the right to attempt to forcefully alter another's.

With those thoughts, he mumbles quiet apologies against the plane of Rin's back. Once for being presumptuous, twice for rejecting him when he had only been trying to help.

At first he thinks Rin musn't have heard him because his words gain no visible reaction from the redhead.

Then Makoto yelps in surprise when Rin swings him around to his usual position in his arms. He scrambles for his Sight, but Rin's breath against his cheeks makes thinking too much of a strenuous activity, makes his Sight respond sluggishly. Makoto's pulse beats rapidly, but whether it's due to fear or something else, Makoto isn't quite sure.

"Sure, I'll forgive you," Rin's voice encompasses him like a vice. "But only if you never ever mention Haru again."

"I can't," the answer comes quickly. Makoto doesn't even have to think about it; to never mention Haru again would be impossible, not because Makoto is being stubborn, but because Haru is such a large, constant presence in his mind that Makoto can't guarantee that he can avoid mentioning him even if he tried.

And it feels too much like Rin is trying to take Haru from him, and he finds whatever good will he's started to feel for his captor begin to scatter in the wake of Rin's anger. For the first time, without Haru, Makoto stands his ground.

"I can't," he repeats, resolutely shaking his head.

You can't take Haru from me.

His Sight shows him an expression on Rin's face that shakes his newfound courage. He can hardly recognize the boy who had laughingly told him to eat more neatly just a few hours before; the person before him is staring at him with a possessiveness that threatens to devour Makoto whole. Still, he returns the crimson gaze steadily, vowing silently that he would never relent to such a request, not even if it comes from Rin.

When Rin reaches out and clamps a hand on his jaw, there is only a brief flash of terror before images rush into his mind like a violent sandstorm.

A girl, red hair pooling limply across her bony shoulders, with angry red welts across her back. Long lines of children with chains around their limbs, like Haru had before Leader took them away. Dark liquid too crimson to be anything but blood, so much of it that the floor is a glistening, sickening red. Clumps of hair still attached to a scalp. A lone finger, ragged at the edge where it had been torn from its owner. Gaping, bleeding holes where eyes should be. Mouths open in silent agony.

A sharp scream startles Makoto out of the carnage his Sight had chosen to reveal. It continues, high and long, until he realises he's the source.

He is on his back, Rin—not the scary one, but the one that Makoto is starting to like just a bit—hovering above him with a worried expression. Makoto gasps, turning to the side and dry-heaving until his throat is raw.

Rin's hands stroke his back softly.

"Makoto?" the dissonance between this gentle Rin and the glimpses he'd seen of the other Rin is jarring, and it makes Makoto gingerly shy away from Rin's touch in confusion. He pulls the remnants of his earlier defiance around him like a shroud. He's in no shape to attempt to be civil, let alone friendly, so it would be better to distance himself for a bit until he has himself under control.

Just because he's decided to accept that Rin's way of thinking differs from his doesn't mean that it would be easy for him to reconcile with the redhead. Especially now that he has to sort through the images he had Seen and re-evaluate what he thinks of Rin. It's becoming a trend, him thinking he has a good grasp of what Rin is like only to be proven wrong.

Unpredictable, like a desert sandstorm. That is Rin.

Rin sighs, a sad, resigned sound.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "Sometimes, I just—" he trails off, gesturing vaguely.

"It's fine," Makoto responds, more out of habit than anything. He's still reeling from the sensory overload, still trying to make sense of what he had Seen as well as puzzling through the seemingly new abilities his Sight has revealed.

The fact that he had Seen all that after Rin touched him can't be a coincidence, but this had never happened before. Contact has never triggered his Sight like this, and it baffles Makoto as to why his Sight had decided to reveal this now. It had many prior opportunites to manifest this way when he and Haru slept together in the same bed, but Makoto has never Seen even a flash of anything, not even when he's pressed close to Haru.

Were those images from Rin's past? Or something happening right now? Makoto isn't sure, but if that had been something Rin had seen, then..

It wouldn't excuse his treatment of the chimera, but it explains it. To live through all those horrors, Rin must have had to harden himself against caring for things that would get in the way of his survival.

Of course, this is all conjecture and may be completely off the mark, but Makoto chooses to believe because it's the only way he can force himself to continue with his plan to get close to Rin. It may sound ruthless, to befriend someone for his own gain, but Makoto is desperate. To survive until he can be with Haru again, he'd stoop this low if he has to.

"Let's stop here for today," Rin says before turning away. They're in the middle of the desert, and the oasis they had been aiming for is nowhere in sight. The sun is still half-sunk into the distant horizon—they still have at least an hour of daylight left—but Makoto doesn't question Rin's decision.

"Okay."


Sometime during the night, while Makoto is wavering between sleep and wakefulness, he Sees.

"Makoto."

Familiar lips forming his name. He knows that chin, that exquisite brow that crinkles whenever its owner is deep in thought, those dark locks that sometimes shimmer beautifully when the moonlight hits it just right.

Haru?

"Tch, I probably can't reach you like this, huh? I'm probably just being an idiot, but—"

Deep blue eyes stare back at him from under dark lashes. He Sees Haru lying in bed with clean blankets pulled up to his chin, the familiar tip of Makoto's walking stick peeping out from under the white cloth. He Sees Haru's face, and its familiarity makes bittersweet longing clench around his heart. His temple throbs with the effort of maintaining his Sight, the pain more acute considering how far Haru must be from him. Makoto ignores it, because how can he think about something so trivial when he can See Haru right now?

"But if there's a chance that your Sight could bridge the gap between us..."

Makoto longs to crawl into bed with Haru, but he knows, in the depths of his mind, that this isn't real, that he isn't really this close to Haru. It's just his Sight playing cruel tricks on him, making him believe that he can touch Haru if only he extends his hands a bit.

"I want you to know that I'll find you."

The determined set of Haru's mouth, coupled with the vehemence in his voice, makes tears well up at the corners of Makoto's eyes.

Okay, he wants to say, to reassure Haru that his words have reached him, but no matter how much he raises his voice, it won't go through.

"So just wait. Someday, somehow, I will find you."

Makoto clutches these words to his heart. He finds strength in Haru, even if he can only See this little bit of him. Even just this little bit is enough.

He watches Haru roll onto his side, his eyes closed, and thinks he's gone to sleep.

Good night, Haru.

Makoto whispers it into the night, so softly that Rin hardly stirs from his position beside the campfire. He's sure Haru can't have possibly heard it, but he receives a reply anyway.

"Good night, Makoto."


They pass the oasis with little fanfare, Rin still so subdued and sullen that he hardly spares even a glance at the sparkling blue water he had been so excitedly talking about. Still, before the oasis disappears into the distance, Makoto stares and commits it to memory. Impossibly clear water, palm trees with their fronds drooping so low they just barely skim the placid surface of the water, a paradise in the midst of the harsh desert sands. He can't help but think that Haru would have loved to see it.


After a few days of travel, Makoto has finally managed to steer him and Rin back to being almost-friends. And if there is still that little bit of underlying tension whenever Makoto flinches away before realising what he's doing, it goes largely unaddressed.

It helps that every night, he Sees Haru, who talks about how he's escaped from Leader, how he's fortunate enough to be traveling with some good people. It renews his hope, because if Haru can escape Leader, then surely Makoto can free himself too. Then, once Haru finds him, maybe they can find a secluded place somewhere, a place just for the two of them where no one would bother them.

That would be nice.

Haru speaks as if Makoto is right there with him, so Makoto carefully hangs on to each word. This way, it's almost like they're beside each other just like always, and Makoto is grateful for this unexpected blessing. During the day, despite his many attempts, he cannot See Haru, but in the still silence of the night, his Sight eagerly shows him his best friend, the images coming so clearly and easily that he doesn't even have to focus all that much. Just another quirk in his ability that he's learned to get used to, along with the thankfully brief flashes he gets when Rin touches him.

Even if he can only have Haru while the stars shine in their cold light, even if he wakes up alone with Haru's name begging to escape his lips, Makoto thinks that as long as he has this, he can get through another day. As long as Haru is alive somewhere, he can survive on the hope that they'll be reunited again.

"We're here." Rin's voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

Makoto's Sight crawls up towards the mountaintop, following Rin's outstretched finger. There's a palace, gaudy and bright, marring its side like a scar. From here, he can't see much other than that, but there is a sense of despair clinging to the mountain, so thick he can almost feel it on his skin like an oily film. The sheer rock face in front of them seems unscalable, but Makoto assumes that they'll be climbing it anyway; it's the only way to get to the palace after all, and everything up until now has pointed to that palace as the destination they had been trying to reach for the past few weeks.

Rin's lip is curled in distaste, but he makes no other comment about the palace.

"Hang on to me." Rin warns him. Makoto has learned that when Rin says things like that, it's usually best to listen first and question later.

Makoto tightens his arms around Rin's neck, bracing himself for whatever reckless move Rin has planned for them. Dissuading him with mentions of injuring one or both of them has proved fruitless so far, so Makoto doesn't bother trying.

Rin springs up onto the bare rock, then starts sprinting up the almost vertical surface. His legs are strong enough that he can use them to propel himself upward without his feet slipping, but Makoto's heart still jumps to his throat and stays there for those harrowing couple of minutes as they fly across the mountain's face. He presses his face into the front of Rin's shirt, his steady, unhurried heartbeat an anchor to remind himself that Rin is strong and wouldn't let him fall.


When they reach the palace, they are greeted by two tall young men, both with red hair and sharp teeth like Rin, coming toward them. There is another between them, a large blond man waddling forward, his smarmy grin sending unpleasant shudders up Makoto's spine.

"Rin! You're back!"

Rin stiffens, then slowly lowers Makoto to the ground. Once his feet touch the packed dirt, Makoto finds himself pulled forward, closer to the fat man. Oily hands with a sickly sweet smell of whitedawn flowers press against his cheeks, and his face is turned this way and that. He must have passed some sort of inspection because the next thing he knows, the blond man is guffawing loudly and waving dismissively at him. Then he is following Rin into the palace after having been mercifully released from the grasps of the man that he assumes is the master of this place.

Everything is a blur of gold and polished wood, and the air is heavy with frankincense. Even his Sight seems to be overwhelmed by all the opulence. He can already feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing in his temples.

Rin leads him to a large room, larger than the one he had in Leader's outpost and a lot more luxurious. Rich fabric, gold-tipped furniture, so much wealth that at first Makoto thinks he's been led to the wrong room.

But Rin makes a grand gesture, followed by a mocking bow, although he doesn't seem to be mocking Makoto but himself.

"Welcome," he intones dryly. "To hell."


A/N: Taking a break from studying for finals and I end up writing fanfiction...Free! has seriously taken over my life. Send help.

If Makoto's thoughts are a bit disjointed and contradictory, it's because he's struggling between empathizing with Rin and his own beliefs. He just seems like the type who would keep trying to see the best in people, so he keeps trying to understand why Rin does what he does. I'm not sure how much of that confusion I managed to convey, but I tried :/

Now I feel kinda bad for making Makoto go through all that...