The world was warm and soft.

The duvet surrounded him like a lover's embrace, leaving nothing cruelly exposed.

Yuki stirred slightly, raising himself slowly from the world of dreams, and opened his eyes. He was facing the fresh cream wall of Tohru's bedroom. For the smallest instant he was confused for this room with its light colours and shabby furnishings was nothing like Akito's bedroom. Then he remembered.

He smiled and turned over. And was greeted with the most warming sight.

Asleep Tohru's face was smooth, the worry lines between her eyebrows disappeared as thoroughly as if they had been freshly painted over. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her lips twitched occasionally. Counting her freckles was easy like this.

Shortly after she awoke, and as her eyes fluttered open and she smiled blearily at him, Yuki was struck by the intimacy of the moment. Seeing Tohru push her mussed hair back and rub at her eyes felt like a privileged peak into someone else's soul. He felt incredibly lucky, and thanked the stars or whatever deity had allowed him to be here, waking with Tohru from the land of dreams, but finding he was still in a dream.

But he couldn't bind this almighty, ethereal feeling in words to share with Tohru so he merely smiled warmly at her.

.

After three weeks Yuki was fairly settled. His anxiety and nightmares had lessened considerably and they both agreed he needed to find a job.

It took another week of searching and applying before he got a job. The process was difficult at times, as he had to explain to potential employers that his reading and writing was rudimentary, and his number skills non-existent. Despite this one restaurant owner seemed to take pity on the boy with the big eyes and the smile which was kind and charming, but acted like a gaudy ribbon wrapping up a world of suffering within. He made Yuki a kitchen porter on a trial basis, and Yuki spent hours monotonously working in the large and bustling kitchen, cutting vegetables in the precisely specified way, washing dished until his hands wrinkled like an old man, and cleaning until his back ached and his nose itched with the cleaning products.

But, he was happy. The work was repetitive, tiring and uninteresting, but there was a secure sense of satisfaction for him in taking something useless and making it desired, in taking something dirty and making it clean. He worked hard and though the other kitchen staff were abrupt and coarse towards him, he ignored them and continued working. He was very used to ignoring things by now.

After a shift he would stumble into the flat, exhausted. Sometimes Tohru would be there, sometimes she would be working and sometimes she would be getting ready for work, carefully twisting her earrings in or lining her tired eyes in mascara, and he would snatch a kiss before she left.

As often as they could they would eat together. They ate basically, wordlessly deciding to abstain from luxuries until they were financially stable. There were potatoes and rice or pasta with butter or hunks of almost stale bread the supermarket was selling cheaply. There was porridge made with water and they took their coffee black now.

But still they laughed. Tohru would prepare their dinner and announce it to him as it it was a feast. "And now Sir we have the pea and mint soup, followed by the breast of pheasant on a bed of potato rosti and seasonal vegetables, finished with a zesty lemon ganache." She would proclaim grandly as she carried their bowls of plain pasta to the bed, where the huddled together and ate happily, watching some ridiculous television programme.

Yuki was tired, but happy. He didn't see the dark mist which was pressing itself against the bubble of his happiness.

.

The alarm rang and Tohru fumbled blindly to stop the noise before opening her eyes slowly. For a moment she was confused. What day was it? What was she doing today? She pressed the middle button on her phone. Wednesday 5th... so placement at the vets nine to five and working in the restaurant six to closing. She barely stifled a sigh as she turned to smile at Yuki.

He was awake, staring blankly at the ceiling. When he noticed her staring his eyes flickered to meet her's.

"Did you sleep?" she asked softly. He nodded.

"Yeah a bit... just silly dreams near the end." He shrugged.

Now she really did sigh. 'dreams' meant nightmares and 'silly' meant horrific, but Yuki wouldn't say that.

She glanced at her phone screen. "I'm sorry, if you want to talk about it we can? But... I should start getting ready." She finished apologetically. He shook his head. "No of course." he said, reassuringly, and she almost missed the flicker of disappointment which marred his features.

She made two strong black coffees and sipped her's while she hurriedly dressed. Yuki stared contemplatively at the coils of steam which twisted into nothingness.

"What time are you working?" she tossed over her shoulder.

"Erm... half ten to three, then half five to finish." She nodded in response.

She grabbed her handbag and her bag of waitressing clothes for the evening. He followed her out to the hall and passed her lunch over.

"Where are...?" she muttered, looking for her shoes.

"Here" Yuki produced them, "I cleaned them when I couldn't sleep." She smiled, grateful and a little sad.

She pulled them on. At the door they met for a chaste kiss.

"Bye."

"See you later."

Then she was outside, caught in the wind's determined grip. She shoved her hands deeply into her pockets and strode briskly to the vets.

Yuki had been living with her for seven weeks. There had been difficult times, and there had been wonderful times.

There had been no sex. Interestingly enough, it was Yuki who seemed reluctant to move their relationship further. He seemed uncomfortable whenever Tohru tried anything and she understood and stopped immediately. She would never rush him and she sensed he would take a long time to be ready. His years at the Estate seemed to have tainted sex for him and made it something twisted and nasty. She was in no rush, and that didn't seem a very important element of their relationship anyway. They found joy in so much else.

There had been long, slow kisses under the covers in the pink hue of evening. There had been finding an injured bird in the park and taking it to the vets. There had been dancing in their underwear with glee when they discovered a box of luxury chocolates. There had been Tohru reading to Yuki late into the night and him falling asleep against her shoulder. There had been him secretly borrowing the neighbor's bbq set to surprise her which ended in disaster with an autumnal downpour. There had been the night she got a bag of shellfish to take home from work and the ate them delightedly, sneakily, as though they were misbehaving.

Tohru smiled fondly at the memories.

Some things were tough but she knew they were going to be happy and everything was going to be alright.

.

Only it wasn't...

When they couldn't afford to have the heating on very much they huddled together under the duvet, swaddled in thick jumpers. This was fine, in fact it was comforting to share your warmth with another person... with a person you loved.

But then Yuki started coughing.

His asthma flared up. The kitchen he worked in was smoky, and the corner he usually inhabited even more so because of the billowing smoke produced by the generator round the corner. It was a chilly October, with cruel winds and persistent rains.

Yuki went to the doctors and returned with a new inhaler. He visited the doctor's again several days later when Tohru was at University.

After that things were... hard.

Every time money went into their account it seemed to disappear instantly. Akito was squeezing them like an orange, twisting them this way and that until all the juice dripped forth, leaving only the pips behind, uncomfortable and hard. And that's how their life was.

Yuki was distant. He took on more shifts at the restaurant, went for long walks on his own, and clambered exhausted into bed for a few hours restless sleep. Tohru was exhausted, not so much by working and studying, but by trying to hold everything together.

Her exams were approaching. The clinic as busy. The restaurant was busy. Her grandfather was calling to ask how things were. And Yuki... Yuki was there. He was there, but he wasn't. When he woke from his nightmares he didn't speak to her about it and when she was tormented by anxious dreams and woke with a start she didn't feel she should disturb the person lying blankly beside her.

There was much less laughing. Yuki seemed reluctant to even touch her anymore.

There was no more orange juice, so the days of orange juice in wine glasses was over.

They didn't break apart suddenly with a bang, they drifted apart gradually, two tectonic plates drifting apart, but causing an uncomfortable friction when they came in contact.

Tohru tried to be understanding, to remember that Yuki wasn't feeling well, that this was a complete change for him, that he was still suffering from the abuse he had suffered. But... It was very difficult.

Every time his eyes ghosted over her without the old spark of interest. Every time they snapped at each other... Every time they went to bed together in the same bed, but very separate in their own thoughts, in their own anxieties, in their own tiredness... She felt a little piece of herself break off and crumble to dust.

And she was suddenly faced with a terrifying and previously inconceivable notion... that, maybe... love wasn't enough.

.

Yuki seemed small, distant, determinedly withdrawn into his shell. Tohru tried reaching out to him, tried coaxing him out... but it seemed the more she stretched... the further he got.

One obscure morning Tohru awoke from a dream where she failed her university exams and all the cats at the vets laughed at her, laughed until it was a shrill ringing in her ears and she realised it was the alarm clock. Yuki was lounging against the headboard, beside her, but so far away in his eyes. She got up without a word and began to dress for University.

"I told you about the competition with Kyo, didn't I?"

Yuki's voice made her jump in the heavy silence.

"Erm yeah? Every six months?"

He nodded. "Every six months. We both have sex with the same client. If Kyo wins he gets his freedom."

Tohru lowered the hairbrush absentmindedly. Yuki rarely talked about his work at the Estate... maybe this meant he felt he could share with her.

"I remember" she murmured, "But you've always won?"

"Yeah. It's just, it's coming up... just made me think about it." He shrugged, "Sorry."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she tried gently.

"No, no I was just thinking aloud."

She nodded, a little sadly, and began to turn back to the mirror.

"Thanks though." Yuki's voice was warm and gentle, soft with the emotion it carried.

Tohru couldn't help her smile. She knew it was hard for him, to talk about the Estate, to think about it, to remember it even. They way his life had been... how was anyone meant to process that? Especially now that Yuki was free, was outside in a normal job, in a normal home. Time and patience, and for her to be there for him. That's what he needed. And she would do that for him. He deserved it.

As she sat on the bus to University, she thought of things they could do. She knew he had been to the beach once as a child, as after a nightmare which left him whimpering against the wall, he had told her the story of a shell he had, once. Perhaps the beach would be good for him? The endless ocean and the wide expanse of sand. He could find a new shell... many shells. Tohru settled back against the seat, deep in thought. The beach would be good, for both of them. She smiled unconsciously.

.

One night, one otherwise insignificant night, when the brisk air pressed its greedy fingers against window panes, a young woman broke into pieces.

There were two people in a shabby bedroom, of a small flat, in a modest city.

They were lovers in every respect besides lovemaking.

That night, that frighteningly cold night, they huddled together under a duvet. As they were drifting to sleep the man pressed a tender kiss to the top of the woman's head. She smiled contentedly, sleepily.

"Goodnight" she said.

"Goodbye," he whispered.

And she never noticed.

She woke several hours later, feeling an absence of something deep in her soul.

On the pillow beside her were two orange tea roses. And a note.

You bought my freedom, not me.

Sorry

For a moment Tohru was still. Her mind swiftly put up damns to protect her from this information, and for a moment she was able not to feel. She noted instead the careful hand-writing, and considered the effort it would have taken Yuki to learn this, to write this...

Then the waves crashed over the damns. And she fell.

If you happened to be passing, on this frighteningly cold night, and chanced to look in the window of this shabby bedroom, in this small flat, you would be astounded.

You would be astounded by how quickly a strong and beautiful young woman can be reduced to rubble. You could politely observe the way her heart cruelly beat the understanding of this message through every cell of her body. You could watch as she broke down slowly, a tremble at a time, unraveling at the seams.

And this body of broken pieces hit the ground with a resounding thud.

.

Akito lay on his bed, deep in thought, walking his fingers up and down the duvet as the gentle crackling of the fire relaxed his mind.

A nearby noise made him alert and he rose swiftly, his gaze automatically darting to the door. He smiled widely.

His Yuki.

He shuffled into the room, an uncomfortable expression on his face. He looked thin, and tired, but considerably better than when Akito last saw him.

"Ahh my sweet, back so soon? That was even shorter than I expected."

He sat up properly on the bed and watched with something akin to delight as Yuki walked slowly nearer.

He dropped to his knees by Akito's bed and hung his head lowly, looking like a tree tired from the wind's persistent beating.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Akito raised his eyebrows. He was glad Yuki couldn't see his face because he couldn't hide his grin.

"You've come back home my little pet."

Yuki raised his face, anxious and ashen, and met his gaze. "Of course. How could I not? I'm so sorry... forgive me" he murmured.

Akito smothered his smiled. He felt a deep blooming of satisfaction that Yuki had returned on his own. It had been nine weeks... if it had pushed twelve he might have retrieved the boy. As it was there was no need. His Yuki was home.

"But how can I trust you again Yuki? You hurt master greatly..."

Yuki nodded seriously and rose suddenly to his feet. Akito noticed for the first time that damn weathered tin clutched tightly in Yuki's hand. Yuki strode to the fireplace. In a fluid movement he opened the lid of the box. He looked once at Akito, his expression serious. Akito watched in surprise.

There was a moment's hesitation, when Yuki's arm halted, then he upturned the box, spilling it's contents into the fire.

His father's watch, his old teddy bear, the first pen he had written with... all tumbled gracefully into the hungry flames.

Akito was astonished. He could never have imagined Yuki would destroy his treasured, worthless items himself. Yuki carelessly tossed the weathered tin into the fire after the items. The fire consumed it.

Yuki walked slowly back to the bed, empty-handed. He stopped a short distance from Akito.

"Trust me."

Akito nodded and opened his arms wide. Yuki fell into his embrace, moulding himself to every contour of Akito's body.

His Yuki was back. Was home. The experiment in freedom had been a great success for Akito, and now Yuki was his forever. He held the trembling body tightly. Yuki was special, if he was a gem he was a diamond. If he was a bird he was an exotic one, beautiful and entrancing. And he was Akito's to parade.

Akito was triumphant.

.

Haru was thinking of nothing in particular as he stirred his bowl of soup despondently. He hadn't had a client last night, the Estate had been very quiet. Haru wondered if the bitter cold had deterred people from venturing out.

Momiji was talking to Kisa, and Ritsu was getting food from the kitchen hatch. Haru managed an uninterested spoon of soup. It was quiet and calm and the conversation flowed around him like gentle waves.

Haru heard the storm coming before it arrived.

The high-pitched, excited voice of Akito. The clack-clack of his polished shoes down the corridor. The creaking as the door opened.

"Look who's home!" came the shrill announcement.

And Haru turned for the first time, looking to the door with mild interest. And he almost wished he hadn't.

Akito was smiling smugly, his bright teeth making Haru think of a predator. And slightly behind him, holding his hand... was Yuki.

Haru was still for a moment. Then the rage licked through his mind like fire. He was on his feet in an instant and he didn't know how the soup bowl had smashed.

"What did you do Akito?" he roared, and he saw the spittle fly from his mouth but couldn't stop himself. "What did you do?!"

Akito's smile hadn't shifted, if anything it was wider and this made Haru want to hit him even more. His arms arms trembled with the effort of controlling himself. He managed to stop a metre from Akito and Yuki.

"Oh Haru, you never fail to amuse me. I think you're one of my favourites." Akito said fondly. "Isn't he amusing everyone?" he asked the room at large. None of the stony faces answered.

Akito seemed a little annoyed. "Hmph, well I didn't do anything dear Haru, and I don't know why you would assume such a thing."

Haru felt the cold air rushing from his nostrils as he fought the urge to charge.

"You took him back!" he challenged.

Akito chuckled gently. "Oh no, I didn't take him back. He came back. Yuki dear, please assure Haru that there were no nefarious deeds, and that you did indeed come back on your own."

Yuki stepped forward into the room, between Akito and Haru.

"I came back. I came home."

Haru recoiled from those words. They weren't true...they couldn't be true...

Then Yuki smiled, and his smile was drenched in something so foul that everything good left in Haru rejected it. Yuki shrugged slightly, and it was as though someone had dropped a lighted match onto the fuel of rage in Haru's mind. It erupted and there was white black red streaks spots stripes...

"You bastard!" he yelled.

And he was rushing towards Yuki.

The next thing he knew there were hands, hands everywhere. Panting... he was panting. And sore. There were staff members holding him down and maybe Kyo was there too. So many faces and voices around him.

And still Akito and Yuki stood, holding hands.

"Why?" Haru gasped desperately, "Why? You were out- free- why would you come back?"

Yuki seemed to contemplate this for a moment. "This is my home. I belong here." As simple as that.

"But Tohru?- What about Tohru?! What the hell have you done?"

Yuki shrugged again, dismissively. Haru fought fiercely against the hands which held him.

"You cruel bastard!" He wanted to hit Yuki, to shake him out of this. Tohru! "You monster" he hissed. For the first time Yuki's face betrayed some emotion; he looked angry.

"Wasn't it you who said don't get involved? I got involved... then I got un-involved. It was..." he pouted his lips together, thinking, "...amusing. But I soon grew bored."

Haru struggled and fought, and shouted and swore, as Yuki's toxic smile floated before him. Then maybe someone knocked him out, for there was pain then a rush of blackness.

.

Yuki lay awake in Akito's bed.

His soul had been stained black, and he knew it was irreversible.

A lethal cocktail of feelings clung to him, like cobwebs he couldn't shake off.

This was where he belonged though.

He was a gutter rat... a creature of the underworld.

He closed his eyes, and his world became completely dark.

And this was his underworld.

.

...Hey!

Firstly I'm sorry this chapter has been a bit longer coming, I was busy (excuses!)

Secondly I'm sure I read "You said goodnight/I said goodbye/And you never noticed" somewhere, but I can't remember where! So anyway, it's not mine.

And thirdly- I had some more planned for this story but I suddenly realised it was getting long (I don't know when or how that happened!) and also that this could be considered an ending... so could you please let me know what you think I should do.

1. I could finish it here.

2. I could continue it and if you wanted to stop here you could (of course!)

3. I could write the rest in another story, as a kind of alternative ending.

So please, PLEASE let me know honestly. You could comment as a guest or PM me, just please help me, I'll listen to everyone!

And thank you for reading! :)