Title: Loyalties from the Side without Light

Warning/s: Yaoi (need I say more?), characters are pretty much out of it (yep, they're really OOC in here, it is in an AU after all), crack pair ahead, violence and gore (Sorry, the sadist in me won the argument), a bit of language (I'm not really one to curse…much)

Disclaimer: I disclaim. The characters I used here belong to their respective creator and I own nothing aside from the crazy plot of this tiny fanfic I wrote (or typed for the matter).

A/N: It's been forever, and I have no excuse. I'm sorry. Either way, enjoy I guess.

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Chapter 3: Of Broken Façades and Beating Hearts (Part 1)

Hidden by the darkness of the night, two silent figures watched intently, waiting for any signs of the man they were about to kill, resembling a stealthy predator ready to pounce on its prey. Strong confidence radiated from them, the air heavy with their terrifying presence. The plan was fool-proof—it always was—as it should be. Tonight would be an easy kill; that they were sure of. All they have to do was to catch their victim off guard and voila, their unsuspecting target would be dead before he could even blink.

A few more minutes of waiting in the dark, their patience finally paid off as the carriage of their newest victim came to view.

"Ready?" Dashan asked in a whisper, the single worded question being the first word he had uttered that night.

Kyoya nodded without a word, his hand moving to grab the handle of the sword slung on the side of his hip. Dashan smirked; one of his dogs would once again end up as the lion's prey, he was sure of it.

Fate, however, seemed to have an entirely different plan that night.

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The earl, whose name was deemed unnecessary, sat inside his carriage nervously. The presence of his hired bodyguard did nothing to assuage his uneasiness. The earl was paranoid, he had been ever since he had met and had a talk with one of the youngest nobleman—Dashan, his name was—in their kingdom. Inside his mind, the earl knew he had every reason to be paranoid, the young noble was the person his friend, the baron, last talked to before he was found dead in an alleyway. And ever since the day he had a conversation with the younger, the earl had felt as if there was something coming fast towards him, and it was dreadful. The only thing that could describe how he felt was as if the god of death was just around the corner, ready to severe the thread that ties his soul to the world of the living, and it was absolutely horrifying. Such feelings forced the earl to hire the best underground fighter he knew to serve as his bodyguard, and somehow, it helped.

That particular night however, the earl felt more scared than ever. It was as if the one thing that he feared the most was already at an arm's length, a distance too close for the earl's comfort. Because of his fear, the earl would shriek every once in a while, letting out a frightened sound at almost every bump on the road. One particularly deafening shriek later and the earl's bodyguard finally spoke.

"Sir, why don't you try and relax." The bodyguard, whose name was once again unnecessary, said, trying to calm the trembling man down. "Nothing's going to happen."

The cowardly earl was about to answer when the carriage came to an abrupt halt, nearly making him fall out of his seat. The bulky fighter muttered a string of curses, quickly grabbing the huge metal hammer, his weapon of choice, sitting beside him. "Stay here, sir. I'll check what's going on outside." He declared in a gruff voice hurrying outside the carriage. Once his feet hit the ground, he saw their driver's body lying motionless, covered in crimson liquid, and killed by a small knife embedded deeply on his chest. He also noticed that their horses was nowhere to be found. Unmoved by the sight, the bald fighter smirked, feeling the excitement rush through his veins. It had been a while since he last had a life-risking fight, so his eyes glinted evilly at the promise of having a wonderful battle with someone strong and ruthless enough to kill an innocent man by a single tiny knife. "Come on out, kitty." The man sneered, turning his head towards Kyoya's hiding place. "I know you're there."

From within the shadows, Kyoya slowly took a step forward, eyes blazing with the flames of confidence, the strength he possesses was clearly apparent from the piercing gaze his eyes held, the deadly pools of blue conveying the warning of his readiness to fight and kill.

The man was honestly surprised to see someone so young having such deadly looking eyes. Shocked as he may be, the older man was never one to back down, and as such he pushed his astonishment away, smirking as he did so whilst his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He was as ready to kill as his young opponent.

The wind, sensing the hostility between the two, became chilly all of a sudden, preparing to complete the effects of the deadly duel that was about to transpire.

From where Dashan remains hidden, the sudden chill seemed to be a little too cold for his liking. The young noble shivered a bit, his hand moving to the sword slung around his hip, an unexplainable dreadful feeling slowly crept up in his veins, making his grip on his weapon tighter. Something was about to happen, something he was sure he wouldn't find pleasing.

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Time ticked, and the minutes passed, though the earl's hired bodyguard and Kyoya remained unmoving, simply standing in front of each other, trying to stare down their opponent. Both of them seemed to be calculating what their opponent was capable of before making a move.

Finally, the earl's bodyguard lost his patience, and he dashed forward, a loud battle cry escaping his lips. Once he neared his opponent, he forcefully swung his massive weapon in all directions—up, down, left, right—in a speed no one would thought his huge muscled and seemingly heavy form was capable of achieving. Kyoya remained calm though, simply dodging every swing of the massive hammer with perfect agility, his sword remained undrawn as his eyes showed boredom.

The bigger male seethed. How dare this kid mock his abilities by not taking out his weapon? Oh, he would show this brat, the fighter thought; he would show that the champion amongst the underground fighters was never to be taken lightly. He would show his opponent that he should never ever be mocked by some little kid.

Changing tactics, the angered fighter started using the other parts of his body; one swing from his weapon was immediately followed by his fist then backed-up with a rather powerful kick. Kyoya hissed, stumbling a bit as he barely dodged the attack. The man smirked, noticing the momentary distraction of the younger, quickly bringing down his metal weapon as he took advantage of the situation. Kyoya, however, was still faster, maneuvering his body to regain his footing at the same time drawing out his sword to block the attack. The man cursed, jumping back to ready himself for what was coming next. Glaring daggers at the younger, he lunged forward again, Kyoya meeting him halfway. Their weapons clashed, both metals creating a rhythmic clanking sound every time it made contact with the other. Their clothes fluttered every now and then, creating a blur of colors in the dark night as they moved.

The scene remained unchanging for a while until Kyoya, with one swift step to the side, managed to injure his opponent, his sharp untarnished weapon cutting the bigger man's shoulder open, making it bleed rather strongly. The man glowered at Kyoya, realizing that the wound on his shoulder was deep, the injury seeming to make his already heavy weapon heavier. The underground fighter knew he needed to do something, and that he needed to do it fast. He was actually starting to get tired. As a matter of fact, he was already having trouble with trying to keep up with the brat. Noticing his opponent's distraction, Kyoya quickly shifted to deliver a heavy blow on the injured arm of his opponent, swinging the dull side of his sword upward, knocking the metal hammer out of the man's hand. The heavy object created a really loud sound as it hit the ground, almost denting the flat surface. Wasting no time, Kyoya kicked the man's feet, the strength of the force used by the green haired male, coupled by the larger man's inability to dodge, caused the older man to lose his balance and stumble forward. Another painful kick upon his back and the bigger man fell on his knees, his instincts kicking in as he used his arms to avoid falling down completely.

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From inside the carriage, the earl gasped, unable to believe what he just saw. Instantly, he knew that the kid his bodyguard was faced against is no ordinary youth, concluding that the boy was bad news.

On the other hand, Dashan couldn't help but be proud of Kyoya, feeling smug at how his follower's robust training seems to be paying off greatly. However, Dashan knew that he shouldn't rejoice just yet, Kyoya's adversary seemed to still have another trick up his sleeve; after all, underground fighters are known to do whatever it takes for them to win.

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The older gritted his teeth as he felt his foe's sword pressed over his neck, the younger's face conveying no emotion at all. Without his trusted weapon, the man decided that it was time to use his second plan. Slowly, he reached for his pocket to retrieve his flick blade, a weapon he could use as expertly as his metal hammer. But then, his fingers brushed against something cotton like within his pocket. His eyes widened for a millisecond before his lips curved to form an evil smirk. His eyes glinted dangerously as he realized there would be a slight change in his plans.

Kyoya's eyes narrowed as he suddenly became wary, feeling a shift in the other man's demeanor. Slowly, he raised his sword, ready to deliver the final blow when the man's hand shot up immediately. Kyoya tried to jump back, but the action was a little over a second too late. The man had released some powdered substance for Kyoya to inhale, and before the younger could do anything, he had already taken some of it in. The pulverized chemical was scentless; however, Kyoya suddenly felt his eyes water before he started coughing uncontrollably.

The underground fighter laughed, his laughter resembling that of a maniacally psychotic scientist who had just discovered a way to control the minds of every living thing in the universe. The man stood up from where he was kneeling, his hand moving rapidly to punch the younger in the stomach.

Kyoya tried to dodge the punch, but he realized that his body couldn't move. The punch hit its target and Kyoya doubled over, wondering why the punch seemed to hurt more than it should. Although he was unable to find an answer to his question for the man kneed him on the same spot where the punch came in contact earlier. The second attack was what caused Kyoya to land on the solid ground with a thud, a pained groaned escaping his lips.

The man then moved to stand beside the spot where Kyoya lay, an irritating smile present upon his lips. "Can't move now, can ya?" The man mocked, looking down at Kyoya's glaring face. "The powder you inhaled just a few seconds ago was made from some rare plant." The man begun to explain, his eyes acquiring a look that clearly showed he was making fun of the younger. "It causes you to be paralyzed for some time. Don't worry though, the effects wouldn't last long. Just long enough for me to make you suffer and then kill you." He then kicked Kyoya on the side, making the assassin bite back a yelp of pain. "Oh, did I mention that aside from rendering you paralyzed, it also had the ability to trick your brain into thinking that the pain your body's receivin' is ten times worse than it originally is. Amazing ain't it?" He then kneeled down beside Kyoya, pulling out a flick blade from one of his pockets; the sharp metal caught the, light of the moon, making it glint. "Now, what should I do with you before I end your pathetic life?" The man wondered aloud, playing with the flick blade to emphasize every word he had said.

Kyoya made his anger evident through his eyes, unable to believe that the older man couldn't even fight fairly. What a coward, Kyoya thought darkly, his mind was starting to overload, flooding with ways on how he would kill the other, interrupted only when the man exclaimed something excitedly.

"I know!" The man grinned widely, turning the blade in his hand around to examine it. "I don't like your face. You see, it's too pretty. I hate pretty. I do. Makes me want to hurl." Of course the man had every right to despise anything that's pretty, what with the various scars scattered around his face, surely no one who looked as such would find a pretty person appealing. "Now then…" The man leaned forward a bit, bringing the flick blade on his opponent's face, trailing it lightly along Kyoya's cheeks as his smiled turned into something wicked.

Kyoya's eyes narrowed as the cold metal came in contact with his skin; he was actually thinking of giving the older man a very nice kick where it would really hurt, in fact, he might just do that if he could move.

"Because I hate your pretty face, I'll take the initiative and destroy it. Also, I would be much more pleased if you scream in pain while I…" The man then dragged the blade along Kyoya's face, moving it vertically from the spot under his eyes then across, making sure to run it deeply before once again slicing across the new wound, this time vertically, forming wounds that would soon resemble a cross-shaped scar. "…do this."

Kyoya bit his lower lip, almost making it bleed. The blade slicing across his face was painful, the effect of the chemical he inhaled prior made the pain ten times worse. It was unbearable, but Kyoya would never give his foe the satisfaction of making him cry out.

The man watched as blood slowly flowed out of the wounds he had just inflicted, the thick liquid creating trails of crimson on the younger's face. "Come on! Scream!" The man yelled aloud, glaring darkly as his victim remained silent. "Your voice isn't the one that's paralyzed, so scream!" He snapped, pressing his hand harshly on the open wound. Kyoya held back the gasp that was threatening to escape from his lips, he wouldn't scream, not if he could help it. This however, seemed to anger the fighter some more. "Fine, have it your way! If you wouldn't cry out, then I'll make you!" Without warning, he moved the bloodied knife on the other side of Kyoya's face, doing the exact same thing he did before.

x-o000o-x

A few meters away from the two, the earl couldn't help but silently cheer inside the carriage. He wasn't wrong to hire the underground fighter as his bodyguard. The fighter may have played unfairly, but who cared about that? The earl sure didn't, and he was certain that no one did either.

Unknown to the earl, there was actually someone who did care, and currently, said someone was not enjoying it, no, he was fuming with rage, and still 'fuming with rage' was still sugar-coating what that someone was really feeling at that exact moment.

Dashan's blood boiled, a murderous intent rapidly rising within his whole being. His hands twitched precariously, itching to kill—no, mutilate—someone as he watched the scene unfolding before his eyes. Kyoya's opponent, that cheating bastard whose remains were not worthy to be eaten even by vultures, was making the young noble infuriated beyond belief. That revoltingly hideous, sadistic, bastard dared to even think of hurting his Kyoya. Yes, his. You see, Dashan was but three things, one was that he was very loyal to those who were loyal to him; the second was that he was extremely possessive, and the last was that he was fascinatingly protective about those he consider as his, and Kyoya? Kyoya was his. He was on top of the list, not to mention the sole person on the list even.

And Dashan would most definitely not stand there doing nothing when some lowly Neanderthal was hurting the assassin.

So with practiced stealth, Dashan left the shadows shielding him from prying eyes, his every movement as heavy as a feather and as noisy as a cat, his sword drawn.

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Meanwhile, the fighter was obviously getting fed up with the younger's silence. All he wanted to do was to hear the brat scream in pain. Was that too much to ask? Finally, he had enough, slapping Kyoya hard on both cheeks, making sure to hit the open wounds. "You're no fun at all. You wouldn't even cry out. You make me really, really mad. I'm done with you." The man said with a sneer as he threateningly positioned his knife over Kyoya's neck. "One swipe, and you're dead. Gone with the claws of death. Any last words?"

Kyoya closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and spat on the man's face, opening his eyes only to reveal mocking cornflower blue orbs.

The man was apparently angered further by Kyoya's actions, his face turning red from rage. "You little…I'll kill you!" He was beyond ready to end Kyoya's life, only to be stopped by a rather painful slash upon his back, the knife he held falling uselessly on the ground. Hissing in pain, the man turned around to see who assaulted him, only to receive another equally painful slash on his chest. The fighter was not given any chance to recover from both attacks as another slash, much deeper than the first two, was delivered near his stomach. Unable to withstand the pain, the man screamed. The pained sound that came out of his mouth appeared to have not reached his attacker, for the teen ferociously slashing his chest had clearly no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Dashan's eyes were blank, frighteningly dull as he used his sword to cut the man's chest, one slash after another, each attack only having an interval of a second or two before being followed by another much deeper one. The young noble looked like he was a completely different person, as if the only emotion he knew was anger, which was at the moment not far from the truth. The lone thought running inside his mind was to kill; every movement of his sword on the man's body was followed by mumbled statements of how it wasn't enough to satisfy him.

A slash, "Not yet."

Another one, "Still not enough."

And another, "One more."

The young noble's whispered words were repeated over and over again until it started to sound like a mantra.

The underground fighter was lying prone on the ground now, his body no longer able to hold itself upright. His breathing was already turning shallow; the blood seeping out from his wounds were staining his clothes and pooling on the ground beneath him. He was dying, and he knew it. "You…" The dying man struggled to talk, to at least convey his thoughts to his killer. "…monster."

Dashan's face remained emotionless, "I know." Were the only words he said before remorseless hands brought down the deadly blade, the cold metal piercing the man's heart.

The earl, who was watching the whole show inside his carriage, couldn't believe what he just witnessed, realizing how right he had been to fear the young noble. With his desire to live longer, the earl tried to escape, creeping silently out of the carriage. His silent exit seemed to be going smoothly, for Dashan was still glaring at the dead body of his ex-bodyguard, only for his escape to be foiled by the loud yelp of the cat whose tail he had stepped on in his haste to run away. The earl froze for a moment before he turned around to look at the younger noble, who, was at the moment, smiling creepily at him.

"Running away, earl?" Dashan's voice was cold and monotonous as he took one step forward. "Don't you know that death has always been the greatest escape?" The young noble added flatly before swiftly throwing a small dagger in the direction of the earl. The earl had no chance to even blink as the young noble's perfect aim helped to embed the tiny metal right at the center of the his forehead, the end result resembling that of a dart on a dart board—but perhaps, minus the blood—killing the older man easily. Without even waiting for the earl's body to hit the dirty road, the young noble turned to kneel beside Kyoya's prone form, immediately aiding the wounded assassin. The anger in Dashan's eyes was instantly replaced by something enthrallingly gentle and caring.

"Kyoya." He began softly, his hand moving to touch the still bleeding cuts marring the assassin's face only to draw it back quickly upon hearing the green-haired man's pained gasp. The nobleman bit his lower lip, hating every moment of seeing Kyoya in such a state.

Kyoya mumbled in agony, "…can't move… hurts…" His voice broken, the discomfort he was feeling was apparent from the long pauses of his statement.

"Don't worry anymore…" Dashan whispered, his voice soft, worried and tender as he gently scooped the other's body from the ground, easily lifting the assassin up. "…I'll take care of you." He declared faintly, holding Kyoya's form closer, his protectiveness evident as he secured the other's figure in his arms. Then he walked away, not forgetting to step on the underground fighter's corpse as he passed by it.

The last thing Kyoya saw was Dashan's worried face before the events of the night's battle finally took its toll on him, his breathing evened out as his awareness faded, drifting into a dreamless sleep almost instantly, feeling safe in the warmth of his king.

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A/N: If someone is still reading this, I do apologize for leaving this hanging for a long time. Let's see how long it will take for me to update this again.

Anyway, first thing first, lame fight scene is lame. Sorry if the fight scene isn't that good.

Thank you so much for reading.