A/N : Not mine. Many thanks to the author for her work.

Chapter 5 : Confronting one's responsibility

To say the trip back home was unpleasant would be a major understatement. Kio did his best to refrain from asking questions he knew no-one would answer and concentrated on driving. Natsuo and Yougi, who came just in case, were unnaturally quiet, astute enough to perceive the undercurrents of the situation. Ritsuka sulked in the back seat, looking into night sky and Soubi sat ramrod straight near Kio, completely silent and purposefully avoiding anyone's eyes.

Being at home didn't change the circumstances in the slightest. If Soubi had seemed a bit off after the incident in Goura, it was nothing compared to his current mood. Ritsuka felt hurt, angry and deeply tired. This was not how he had pictured having him back. Moreover, he felt even more obligated towards him now that he had claimed him as his Fighter.

"Could you please leave us alone?" he had asked the others and felt relieved when they had agreed.

But now that they were alone, he didn't seem able to find the right words. He looked forlornly at Soubi who quietly smoked in his corner, facing away from him. He understood somewhat that he was in pain. He could relate to the feeling of shame and betrayal. He could forgive his need to bottle up feelings and bury them deep down. He also knew Soubi needed him to take control because letting his Sacrifice take control meant he could dissociate from what happened and what had transpired. He knew that was Soubi's way of dealing with disturbing events. But he was so loathe to do it. He was also aware of his own anger and wasn't sure he could manage the both of them. But he couldn't let him stay in such a state either. He had to try and hope he wasn't going to open Pandora's box.

"Soubi," he called. "Stop smoking and come here." He wasn't happy with the blank stare he received. "Undress," he said with an unsettling sense of déjà-vu. At least, his neck had stopped bleeding. He let him strip down to his trousers then went to stand behind him. He watched all his muscles tense in horror. Does he honestly believe I'm going to beat him up? Does he intend to just let it happen? How sick is that?

"This," he said, following the jagged lines on his back "will never happen with me. Nor shall you expect it." He moved to face him. "This," he continued, pointing to Soubi's neck and wrinkling his nose "just has to go. I don't know how or when, but it won't stay. These," he added, touching lightly every scrape, cut or injury he laid eyes upon "are to be disclosed to me and taken care of. And this," he breathed softly, grazing the letters of Loveless on his ribcage "is the only trace of me that will ever mar your skin. Am I being clear, Soubi?"

"Yes."

"Then get dressed. You're going to catch a cold." He watched him shamelessly despite the intimate situation. He'd spent weeks with Soubi and something was definitely off. He hoped hurting him wasn't the only way to shake him off this strange mood because he couldn't and wouldn't do it.

"What's wrong, Soubi?"

"Everything's fine."

"Don't lie to me." he replied curtly.

"I'm—weary." He pulled out another cigarette and moved away from Ritsuka. The youngster, however, would not be deterred.

"You believed I'd give up on you, didn't you?" He shrugged and took another drag. Ritsuka watched the telltale hollowness of his cheeks and expansion off his chest, the swirling cloud of smoke as it wafted towards him before it dissolved into thin air. He hated the smell of it. His Fighter didn't seem in a hurry to answer and continued to ignore him.

"Soubi?" He was definitely losing his patience and the blond's apathy was grating on his already frail nerves. "For once, speak your mind and give me a straight answer!" he exclaimed.

As an answer, he turned his head and stared intently at him. He seemed to measure up Ritsuka's truthfulness and determination and to weigh it against his own unwillingness to speak. But he knew an order when he heard one.

"I have wronged you. I betrayed both Seimei and you. I have no right to— be. I don't deserve—" He tore his gaze away as his voice broke and his sentence was left hanging in the air, so very heavy. Ritsuka blinked, both surprise by his confession and distraught by the negative judgment.

"But Soubi, I've forgiven you ages ago! It's not like you had a choice. Why do you beat yourself up over something you had no control on?"

"I may never be worthy of it, Ritsuka, but I'm happy to share your name. I'm glad you're my master." he simply said.

The teen turned from confused to incensed. Somehow, it reminded Soubi of Seimei. The two brothers were so easily overwhelmed by their anger. He caught the same gleam in Ritsuka's eyes and knew he had chosen the wrong words again. Instinctively, he stiffened and clenched his jaws.

"I hate this part of you," he hissed. "This mindless slave. And I hate Seimei and Minami-sensei who made you believe it's ok. It is not. I am no-one's master! I don't need and I don't want you to cater to my every wish and whim."

"You are my Sacrifice. I would do anything for you." He shrugged. "Because I love you," he added as an after-thought.

"Don't say that. It's offensive." Ritsuka snarled.

The blond dutifully and efficiently hid the stricken look that clouded his face.

"I am sorry."

"This too is offensive." he growled.

"Understood." Soubi replied, slightly baffled. Ritsuka was undeniably mad at him but he would be damned if he knew why. Still, the command hurt. Not to say 'I love you' or 'I'm sorry' ? It felt like a low blow and he most certainly hadn't expected it from the young boy. He had perceived Ritsuka's dislike when hearing him confess his love but he had never forbidden him to say it. Was he even aware he had given an order? A rather forceful one by the way ? Should he ask and risk angering him further? He never seemed able to please his masters enough. They always grew tired of him and discarded him in the end. He had hoped when Ritsuka had claimed him. But his young Sacrifice's words were quickly soaking the small fire he had ignited in his heart. Better to stay silent and try to please him. No matter what, most often than not, he chose the wrong words anyway. Judging by the colour of Ritsuka's cheeks, even that little word was a blunder.

"No you don't. Your words mean nothing, Soubi. They're only empty vessels for your voice. I don't give a damn about such love and apologies. I have to agree with Seimei. An arguing team is a losing team. And I'm not going to lose again."

So, that was it. Surely, it wouldn't be so different with Ritsuka than Seimei then. The disappointment stung harder than Seimei's blows because he had hoped, during the time spent with the vibrant child, to serve a more forgiving and caring master. How more wrong could he have been?

Ritsuka, for his part, was so consumed with his mixed feelings of helplessness and fury he didn't even noticed the change in Soubi's posture. Lost in a jumble of emotions too strong, nothing could refrain him from spilling his heart.

"You lie to me! You say you love me, that you're sorry. It's nothing but a sham! A grotesque farce, an obscene lie. It's worthless if you do it because you feel you have to as my Fighter," he spat. "Don't ever say you're sorry if you assume that's what I want to hear because I disagree or because I'm angry. We cannot argue in a battle but outside, in real life, just stop it already. Say it as Soubi, not as Loveless. I will never accept any other way. Never," he insisted.

His heart beat wildly, his chest heaved with short and shallow breaths and his face felt on fire. He closed his fist to prevent his hands from shaking and his wobbling legs barely kept him upright. Anger had drained him. When he finally looked up at Soubi, he realized how callous his words might have seemed to him and regretted instantly his flare-up. No, Soubi didn't deserve his harsh words, however true they were. He was not yet capable of understanding his point of view and as they stood contemplating each other in utter silence, Ritsuka felt defeated. This should have been an enjoyable evening, a happy moment to celebrate and he had ruined it. He had smashed his Fighter and rendered him silent. He wasn't fooled by his stoic stance. He had hurt him as surely as Seimei used to. The thought sickened him and he struggled to not throw up. Tears welled up in his eyes and he suddenly launched himself at him, hugging the adult so tightly his hands hurt.

"I apologize, Soubi. I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have said that. I've missed you, Soubi. And I was worried for you. I'm happy you're with me now." he added, struggling to keep going.

"I'm also glad, Ritsuka." he replied as he enveloped the teen in the all-encompassing hug he seemed to save just for him. "But I don't know what you expect of me. I'm not sure I can—" he paused, trying to adequately express his mind. " I'm not sure I can do it right. I'm not even sure I understand what 'it' entails to be honest."

"Let's talk about it later, Soubi. I'm tired. Lie down with me, will you?" he asked with his usual shyness.

"Do you think we can come in now, Yougi?"

"Well, since Ritsuka isn't yelling anymore and there hasn't been a single sound in more than fifteen minutes, let's assume it's safe and go to bed. I'm already fed up enough with staying outside on the stairs."