Beta:EternalAngel

A/N: I got tired of the lines, so there'll be zeros instead. Comments and critique appreciated, as always.

"Vampires in the graveyard at midnight. This is such a cliché," a sneering voice whined. "No self respecting vampire would be caught dead here." The owner of the voice, a young boy with dark curly hair and a sharp chin turned his eyes to his companion, waiting for him to answer.

"You are here," his companion answered, not looking at the boy.

"Only because you are!" the boy yelled and pointed at the man accusingly.

"You claim us not to be self respecting vampires then, Akaya?" the man asked in a steady voice, face held upwards. Had the man's eyes been open they would have reflected the crescent moon in them, but Renji never opened his eyes. Never so that Akaya saw.

"Why are we here?" the boy asked, instead of answering. "He's never returned here, he won't be here today either, like he wasn't last year, or any of the years before that."

"He will return one day. He said he would, he never lies." Yanagi spoke as if it was the undeniable truth, and even if Akaya believed that anything Yanagi said was the absolute truth that you could not argue with, this he did not believe. "Genichirou never fails to keep his word."

"He gave you that promise before Atobe messed him up," Akaya grumbled, but when he didn't get an answer moved away and kicked a wayward stone, muttering, "Every goddamned year we come here. And every goddamned year he's never here." He glanced back at Yanagi who still had his face raised to the heavens, an expression of a dreamer on his face and a gentle, hopeful smile on his lips.

The face was the same every year too. After so many disappointments his hope should have faded long ago.

This was a fool's errand, but Akaya could not help but come every year with Yanagi, to watch him, wait for him to fall apart. He knew the day that Yanagi would finally break would come, and Akaya wanted to be there. Not because of friendship, not for loyalty or love, but because he wanted to see the man never moved by anything break apart and shatter for something so trivial, as love. For what else could it have been but love that brought Yanagi back here every year?

Akaya did not know love. He had never, not even as a human experienced it.

His mortal mother had been a whore who'd abandoned him in the streets of a decayed and filthy city when he was old enough to speak his own name. Of his father and other family he had never known of. The first to show him kindness was the creature that took his mortal life, but gave him eternity in the darkness as compensation. To Akaya what he had gained was far more valuable than what he had lost. He willingly made himself a slave to his master who was not shy in using that to his own ends.

His maker he had respected, honoured, worshipped even, but never loved.

"And why here? This is the place-"

"I chose," a deep voice finished for him, and Akaya turned to stare at the man he had thought would never come. "Because this is the place where it all began for me, for him."

Nothing showed on that face, but Akaya heard it, that stress on the single word that was spoken instead of a name, and saw the delighted smile that had risen on Yanagi's face when the man had appeared.

Love, Akaya thought, was for fools.

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Rinko sat by the kitchen table, her hands holding the phone she kept hoping would ring at any moment, and she would hear her son's voice. Her husband was on the other phone, speaking with the police. She couldn't tell what the conversation was about, Nanjiroh only responded in grunts now, when earlier he had yelled.

She had called Sakuno when Ryoma hadn't been home at ten, thinking, hoping the two teens had forgotten the time. Sakuno had sobbed on the phone, and finally the girl's mother had taken the phone, and told Rinko Ryoma had never arrived at the movie theatre, or even called Sakuno, to give an excuse or an explanation.

Rinko had hung up on the woman, and her angry rant for the treatment her daughter had received. Rinko would have agreed with her any other time, and scolded her son with the woman, but she was too worried. She knew Ryoma liked Sakuno, and would never have intentionally hurt her. There had to be a reason for Ryoma not showing up to meet the girl.

As the clock ticked forward, Rinko began to hope Ryoma was just inconsiderate to Sakuno's feelings, and had stood the girl up after finding something more interesting to do. The other alternatives were far too frightening for her to think of.

At eleven Nanjiroh had finally called the police.

"You people have someone following my son, don't you? Tell them to bring him home," Nanjiroh had said, and after that, there had been nothing much more than the grunting on Nanjiroh's part. It worried Rinko, along with the wary glances Nanjiroh gave her every time there was a pause in the conversation.

Finally Nanjiroh put the phone down on the kitchen table, and Rinko watched her husband, waiting for him to tell her that they were bringing her son home now, that they had found him shoplifting, or drinking somewhere. She would have preferred any scenario where Ryoma was coming home.

"The men that were following Ryoma," Nanjiroh took in a shaky breath, and Rinko stopped breathing. "They lost him."

"Oh God, Nanjiroh!" she cried, pulling her hands to her chest. "What if he's been attacked again? They told us someone might be after him!"

Nanjiroh ran to hold her. "They are looking for him right now, he'll be alright," he promised, hoping Rinko couldn't hear the fear in his voice. 'Where are you brat?'

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Ryoma stood outside his home, hands fisted on his sides. He knew he should go inside, and he didn't want anything more than to hold Karupin against his chest and forget all that had happened today, the confusion and chaos that his mind was in. Push it aside, and never think of it again.

Ryoma lifted a hand to the new bandages on his neck. Atobe had found them somewhere, and the care he had used when placing them over Ryoma's wounds, was something he hadn't expected.

Nothing about Atobe made any sense to him anymore. He didn't understand why Atobe was so angry at him for meeting with Sakuno, why he protected him from Fuji, but didn't seem to care when Fuji suggested someone might want to kill him. He didn't see the point of Atobe kissing him, holding him.

He thought of the night he had seen Atobe for the second time. He'd followed him on a whim, not really knowing why. He had grown tired of fearing, had wanted answers, and thought he could find them by following the man that had saved him. It didn't matter if that hadn't been Atobe's intention; he'd saved Ryoma that night. And today.

He didn't feel gratitude towards Atobe. He hated him for saving him, showing him power he could never have.

Ever since he was a kid, Ryoma had craved power. For years he'd played tennis with only one goal in his mind. Beating his father, to become more powerful than his father. And when he had come across a creature that made him tremble with terror by its mere presence, he had yearned for that power. Even when he had ran from Fuji as a child, and hid in terror, even then he had wanted it. Fuji's memory had preserved in his mind for so long, not solely because of fear.

But Atobe would never give him what he wanted. He had told him so from the start.

'Never mine.'

The words rang in his mind, rouse from his memory to mock him, and Ryoma laughed. He wanted to cry, but couldn't stop laughing.

"Ryoma!"

His mother was standing by the front door. The light in the hallway shone from behind her, lighting the path to the house. When everything surrounding him bathed in the light, Ryoma was left in the darkness that his mother's shadow created.

Rinko ran from the house, pulled open the gate and pulled Ryoma against her chest. "Where have you been Ryoma? You can't do things like that to me! Do you hear? Never do that again!" Her voice trembled and Ryoma put his arms around her and clenched his hands on her shirt.

"Ryoma?" she asked, and stroked his hair when the boy didn't look up, or answer. "Honey?"

Ryoma buried his head in her neck and didn't let go even when his father joined them and tried to get him to come inside. He was tired and wanted to go to sleep, but he didn't want to let go.

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Ryoma's laughter rang hollow, and it made Atobe stop and look behind him, to where he had left the boy. Hearing the laugh made him want to turn back, snatch the boy from before his family, and embrace him tightly until the panic he heard in the laughter had passed.

"Do you think it's wise to linger here much longer than is necessary?" Fuji stepped out of the shadows to stand by his side.

"I thought you had left," Atobe said.

"You are going to drive that boy insane," Fuji warned him, his face dark. Then he grinned. "I figured it might be fun to watch him snap. But right now I'm not sure if you're not going snap first. That might be even more fun."

Atobe snorted. "You have a twisted idea of what is fun. I always knew you were insane."

Fuji pressed a finger on his smiling lips and gave Atobe a hooded stare. "I remember," he spoke slowly, "you warning Sanada about me."

"He never should have given you his blood. But he never listened to me, not even before-" Atobe grimaced, forcing his tongue silent.

"And there it is," Fuji grinned. "Both of you. You never talk about it. He's still controlling the both of you."

"He never held any power over me," Atobe sliced his hand through the air, as if cutting the imaginary strings, and walked away, trying to leave Fuji behind. But Fuji only laughed and followed.

"He had Sanada. He didn't have to." Fuji looked back where he knew the Echizen house was, turning serious again. "As much fun as it might be to watch you go insane, or Sanada ripping out the boy's limbs, one at a time when he arrives, I would much rather see a happy ending. I suggest you do something."

"A happy ending? You?" Atobe quirked an eyebrow and smiled. "Your life is a string of disastrous tragedies. What possible reason could you have for wishing a happy ending?"

"I do not revel in misery, Atobe," Fuji spoke softly, sadness in his voice. "Do you not think I wished for Yuuta to thank me, when I made him immortal? Instead he tried to cut off my head."

"What about Tezuka?" Atobe asked. "Admit it. You never expected anything but disaster with him."

"I loved him," Fuji whispered, and hid his face from Atobe. "You didn't see him, you wouldn't understand. He was so beautiful."

"He had a life, a family. People that depended on him, and whom he depended on. You never should have gotten involved in that," Atobe said.

"So does he!" Fuji pointed behind them. "You never should have started this, like I never should have begun it with Tezuka!"

"I am not you, and he is not Tezuka!" Atobe yelled.

"I know he is not Tezuka." Fuji said. "There is voraciousness in him that Tezuka never had. He will not shy away from the hunt."

"What are you talking about?" Atobe stepped back. "I have no intention of turning him into a monster like us."

"You have savoured that blood of yours for centuries. Sanada might want to kill the boy out of jealousy, but the others will want him dead because they fear you, of what he could become. That is why you must do it before they arrive."

Atobe looked away. "I can't," he said. "It is what he wants, but I cannot place a curse like this on him. Not on anyone."

"Then kill him," Fuji said. "He will not survive, in any case. He is too tempting of a mortal."

"He will!" Atobe stepped forward, forcing Fuji to back against a wall of a building that stood behind them "He will survive. I will make sure he will."

Fuji laughed in Atobe's face. "You arrogant ass. You will not be able to fight us all."

"Us?" Atobe asked, coiling his fingers around Fuji's throat, but Fuji simply smiled wider, and opened his eyes to show Atobe the fire he hid by keeping them closed.

"I have said this before. He is too tempting, the boy." Fuji licked his lips. "You should commend me for having the self restraint to let him go all those years ago."

"It would not be a strain for me to end your existence," Atobe threatened.

"But you'd miss me," Fuji grinned and pulled closer so he could whisper into Atobe's ear, "and I am probably the only ally you have among the un-dead, Atobe-kun."

Atobe released Fuji with a scoff. "Do not make me kill you."

"I would never force you to do something you did not want to," Fuji answered. "But you have to hurry. Soon the choice could be taken from both our hands."

"It is only Sanada. I can handle him, I always have," Atobe said.

"He will no doubt bring others with him. He is like Tezuka in that sense. Gathering others around him, not able to bear the thought of being alone." Fuji walked away, and this time, it was Atobe who followed him.

"Do you know, or are you just guessing?" Atobe asked.

"I know my master, Atobe," Fuji said. "He is not like you, or I. He wants to feel like he belongs to someone, is worth something to someone. He lost that once and would do anything to regain it."

"Must you insist on digging up the past?" Atobe gritted through his teeth. "What has happened, has happened. There is no reason to dwell on it."

"It is not me that drags the past with them like shackles," Fuji answered.

"Are you alluding that I do?" Atobe asked.

"No, you never did," Fuji shook his head. "That is perhaps the reason why Sanada woke alone."

"Do you know when he'll arrive?" Atobe asked, not bothering to respond to Fuji's comment.

"Tomorrow, next week. There is no way to be certain of the time. I only know that he is close," Fuji said. "You cannot leave the boy unguarded again. He will be safe as long as there are other humans around him. As much as they would like to have their hands on him, exposure is still something they do not wish. Tonight will be in your favour in the long run. The humans will be more convinced than ever that he is protecting a murderer."

"How long have you been here?" Atobe asked, narrowing his eyes at Fuji. "You know far too much."

Fuji blinked, hearing the suspicion in Atobe's voice. "I came across the men following him," he told Atobe. "They've seen you. It will not take them long to find you."

"There is nothing they can do, even if they succeed," Atobe dismissed the matter.

"They are both very protective of the boy," Fuji said. "You shouldn't underestimate them simply because they still have a heart that beats."

"They cannot connect me to anything. All they have are their suspicions, and they will not have anything more without Ryoma," Atobe said. "And Ryoma will not tell them anything."

"The other one, Inui, is treating it as a murder case," Fuji said and gave a little laugh. "Though why, I do not understand. They have no bodies. They should still be looking for the ones that attacked him."

Atobe grunted, but did not answer. He might not like what Fuji had to say, but knew most of it was true. He had made a mistake walking away from the dying boy that night. He should have made sure the boy was dead.

But he could not kill the boy now. Last night, maybe, but not now. In the short time that had passed between him sneaking up to the boy's room and tonight, the boy had become something more than a simple amusement and a toy. What exactly, he didn't know. He only knew that he didn't want the boy to die.

But he also knew he could never ensure the boy's safety, not completely, because he could not force on the boy the curse he had to live with. The thought of never seeing the sun did not seem much when you still could. Breathing had never been something he had valued, or the sound of his own heart beating. Sweat and tears on his skin, biting coldness and the comforting warmth his touch could once offer to someone else. All that lost for eternity.

The only choice that left him with was to fight anyone who would want to harm the boy. Against them all he would not stand a chance, but vampires were creatures that treasured their solitude and independence, only rarely did they seek a companion, or a group in which to exist. From the few that matched Atobe in strength, only Sanada cared enough to come, and he did not fear Sanada.