For this chapter, the title is borrowed from "What Sorry Could Be" by Aaron Sprinkle. Are you starting to sense a pattern here? Good. You should be. ;) If you've been following this story (you lovely bunch of folks, you!), then I apologize for not updating sooner. I have no grand excuse like a 400+ page midterm paper was due or my dog had some rare, anal disease or something (and I certainly hope neither of those things ever happen ever). The truth is, I've run out of steam for this story so much that I just forgot to update, and I'm sorry. I already have the next four chapters written, and I'll post them if you want, but I have no idea where I'm going with this. There. I said it. So in light of that, if you have any ideas for what could happen, I would be so very happy to hear them. All I have is a very, very vague idea that can be summed up in a three-word sentence, if anyone can guess what that is. It could also be a two-word sentence. Just saying. Well, this has gotten extraordinarily long, so let's get to the story, hm?

His journal. One of many black, spiral notebooks strewn about that room. He didn't realize he missed it so much until now, when it's in his hands once again. Martial arts used to be his primary form of expression – letting all his tension and rage be thrust out of him in waves down his arms and legs with every punch, every kick – but with only imaginary opponents, it was soon demoted to a very close second. He still loves martial arts, of course – it will always be close to his heart. But his journals hold so much of him – his soul, on paper. Some pages are filled with ramblings of nothingness, some rants about various irritants, some dreams that come to him in the night. But others hold something deeper. Thoughts, feelings that he doesn't know he could think or feel until they're already on paper. They're not poems, exactly. No, he wouldn't classify them as poems. But they come from deep within his heart, his mind, his soul. He writes these in the "half" parts of the day – half-asleep, half-drunk, half-crazy – when he's not all there, when his conscious mind is no longer in complete control. He wonders what others would think of these pages in particular. He isn't sure what he thinks of them himself. He opens to a new, fresh page, takes up his pencil that has been sharpened so many times it's only two-inches long, and begins to write. This page will hold his dream/hallucination from three nights ago. He's been dying to write it down ever since he woke up.

Momiji is babysitting today. But instead of sitting by the door, he moved the chair by Kyo's hospital bed so now he's right next to him, studying some sheets of music. Momiji has definitely grown. Kyo decided that the moment he saw him. He already had a growth spurt right before Kyo was locked up, but he obviously continued in the same pattern for a least a little while. He hasn't said anything to Kyo since he walked in the door an hour ago. The only acknowledgement he made was giving him the journal, which Kyo was completely okay with. If Momiji didn't feel obligated to speak, then neither did he. So they sat in silence, Kyo upright and cross-legged, bent over his notebook and Momiji lounging with his feet propped up on Kyo's bed.

o.O.o.O.o

"What are you writing?" Momiji asks after an unknown number of hours has passed.

Kyo looks up. He realizes he hasn't stopped scribbling since he opened the notebook. "Oh, I, uh…" He wonders if Momiji has been staring at him for long. The rabbit waits. "Um… Just a dream I had."

"Yeah?" Kyo nods. "Can I see it?"

"Uh… I don't think – "

"Come on, give it here!" Kyo clutches it to his chest, guarding it from the evil, reaching clutches of his cousin. Momiji stops. His eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?" Kyo's mouth drops open a bit. What is he hiding? Oh, yeah, his undying love for Tohru. But don't they all know about that already?

"Why do you want to know?" Kyo asks, guarded.

"Ah, so you are hiding something." He leans back into his chair. "You know, Akito won't like that very much if he finds out."

"Screw Akito," Kyo mumbles, his eyes on his paper. When Momiji doesn't answer, he raises his head to look at him. His face is thoughtful as he stares at Kyo. "What?"

"Nothing." Momiji turns back to his pages, as does Kyo after giving him a wary glance. A few minutes pass. Kyo scribbles. Momiji studies.

Then, "Do you remember what I told you before you were locked in that cage?"

Kyo looks at him. Momiji is still staring down at his sheet music. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." His head comes up. "That night that we all came over to Shigure's house and had barbeque-style curry. Tohru made it for us." He says this last statement as if it's of dire importance. Kyo flinches internally. Of course he remembers. Momiji's words confused the hell out of him – and comforted a bit too.

"Yeah." Kyo's eyes are downcast.

"I meant what I said. And I still do. I'm not giving up on the Cat, and I'm not trying to push it out of my mind. Kyo, the only person who wants to be here, living in this house, trapped, is Akito. He's the only one who wants this 'never-ending banquet.' The only other person I can think of is Shigure, but he's a weirdo, and no one can ever really tell what he's thinking." He gauges Kyo's reaction. He doesn't give him one. Momiji purses his lips and says sternly, "I'm getting you out of here."

Kyo almost gets whiplash from how fast his head shoots up. "What?"

Momiji nods. "You heard me. I'm not going to say it again. I don't know how, and I don't know when, but I will. That's my promise to you – and to me and to all the others, even if they don't know because if I can get you out, I can get us all out. We can make our own choices, meet our own friends, have our own adventures. We can live our own lives."

Kyo just stares at him for a moment. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"Shh!" He shushes him.

Kyo lowers his voice but only a bit. "What do you plan to do, huh? You gonna dress us all in black and sneak us out the back? You gonna hijack a golf-cart or something and high-tail it out of here? Oh – or are you gonna tie a bunch of bed sheets together and hoist us down the wall to the Outside one by one?"

Momiji's face is stone-cold, his eyes narrowed into slits. "I'll figure out a way. I know the others want out, too, and some of them may even help – "

"You're crazy!"

" – Haru, Kisa, Kagura, Hiro, Rin most definitely – "

"Momiji!"

He stops. "What, do you not want to get out? Because, to me, that's the stupider way to think."

Kyo narrows his eyes. "Don't you dare tell me that I want to be in that hellhole. You think I like it? You think I relish in the thought of going back? Well, I don't. I sit here and I stare out this window, and all I want to do is dive head-first through it because I've been rotting in that cell so long that I've forgotten what the earth feels like. But I can't. You know why? Because Akito won't let me. He has a power over us that no one can understand, not even himself. But it's there, and it's real, and it's never going to go away. I'm surprised you haven't grasped that yet, Momiji. I thought you were smarter than that."

"Wow." Momiji shakes his head in disbelief. "You really have changed, haven't you? I thought you would be all for escaping, the first to sign up. I guess I was wrong. Maybe you don't love Tohru as much as I thought you did."

Kyo tenses, his whole body clenching up and breathing hard, and he forces every single cell in his body to not beat the living crap out of this little punk kid who doesn't know anything about anything.

Momiji glances at the clock on the wall. "My shift's almost over. I'll go get your next prison guard." He gets up to leave.

"Momiji." Kyo's voice is steely, his jaw clenched tight. The rabbit turns around, trying to hide his satisfaction. "You don't get it, do you? Even if I did manage to escape, even if I ran away to the farthest possible place from here, it wouldn't be worth it. Akito would blame her, go after her. She would get hurt, and it would be all my fault. You think I haven't thought about this? It's all I think about. Holding her hand, brushing her cheek, hearing her laugh, hearing her voice – that's all I want. But more than that, I want her to be safe. And if I have to sacrifice being with her in order to ensure that, then so be it because being separated from her in life is better than being separated from her in death."

There's a moment of silence as Kyo's words sink in. Momiji takes a breath… nods… and leaves the room.

A very dear friend of mine, after reading this chapter and a few to come, said, and I quote, "Momiji might have been a little OOC as per the manga and the anime, but it has to be taken into consideration that he's older now, and being kept from the Outside probably matured him a little bit." And that's exactly what happened. Yeah, he's a little more serious than before, but I feel like even in his most childlike moments, he's always been one of the most mature people in the Zodiac. He just seems to get it, you know? So, anyway, if it seems like he's not quite himself, he's not, not in the way he's portrayed for the most part in the original story. So yeah. I think this side of him has always kind of been there, just hidden underneath all that lovely bunnyfluff.

Anyway, thanks for reading! And don't forget to shout out some ideas if you want this to continue! Thanks, loves! :)