Spoilers for Vampire Knight and Vampire Knight Guilty TV. Why can't I ever just skip to the good parts?

Via Vincio: The Braided Way

By Gabihime ( gabihime at gmail dot com )

3 - Moments lost in time

-

Once upon a time there was a goose-girl who was born a princess, who traveled far abroad in the company of her maid, on a journey to meet and marry a certain king.

While traveling, the princess became possessed by a great thirst and asked her maid to dismount and find a drink for her. The maid refused, and even doubted that she was a princess, and ordered that she should find her own drink. Because her thirst was so great, the princess dismounted and began to search for something to drink.

It was very dark and she searched for a long time, but she could find nothing to drink such as she was used to, so at last she came upon a small stream, a vein of water cutting through rocks, and she dropped to her hands and knees and drank from the stream like a beast until her thirst was sated.

In her breast pocket the cloth spotted by her mother's blood cried out, "If your mother could but see you, her heart would break in two!"

The princess could not think of any reply to make to the little drops of blood, so she made her way back to her horse and mounted, and she and the maid were again on their way,

-

As Yuki was suffering from travel fatigue - a product of the coupling of a stressful night and an emotionally exhausting day - she found that no matter how she tried to stay awake in the club car, playing old maid with Ruka and Kain, or rummy, which she was learning from Kaname, she kept nodding off asleep in between hands. She fought to stay awake as long as she could, because with Zero present the atmosphere in the club car was less like a jolly holiday and more like a Mexican standoff. While she mostly trusted her friends not to attempt to kill one another unless something untoward happened, she was worried about what they might each individually interpret as being untoward, particularly with Zero's tendency to draw his gun at a moment's notice and the issue of stung aristocratic pride.

So she did her best to stay awake, somehow sure that she could avert unnecessary bloodshed if she could just keep chatting. Kaname remained pleasant and polite, even to Zero, which she was grateful for. Zero was not particularly talkative and seemed to spend most of his time staring out the window, staring at her, or doing crosswords from a small, creased book. His motives and intentions remained a mystery to her, as he did not offer to talk about the reasons for his trip or the state of affairs at home. He did, however, civilly answer simple questions that were put to him, and once even had an extended exchange with her concerning one of the puzzle clues.

It was seventeen down, and a lynch pin clue, which many of the other answers depended upon: "Misery acquaints a man with ____."

Yuki could not immediately say, and suggested all number of answers, some entirely ridiculous, all which seemed to conflict with settled letters or were simply not long enough to fill the little squares of the clue. She was perhaps most proud of 'the Spanish measles,' which Zero suggested she had just made up. At last, after she and Zero had struggled with it for some minutes, Kaname softly interjected.

"Strange bedfellows. It's from," he said, after a thoughtful moment, "The Tempest." As Yuki did not immediately understand, he explained. "Shakespeare. It means that in times of trouble one may find himself with unlikely allies. It isn't meant literally, but figuratively."

Zero was not keen on taking Kaname's suggestion, but as he found nothing else that fit appropriately, he was forced to letter in the words or abandon his puzzle entirely.

And although Yuki attempted valiantly to remain awake and match up pairs of cards and provide insight into crossword clues, at last she passed her final threshold, and fell deeply asleep, her head cradled against Kaname's shoulder. After he was quite sure she was asleep he gently gathered her up in his arms and excused himself from the company, so he could see Yuki safely asleep in bed. Zero watched them go, but made no comment, only attempted to burrow his way further into his crossword book.

Kaname was gone from the club car for a long time.

After Kaname had gone with Yuki, Aido stared at Zero from a long time, then crossed the car to stand in front of him.

Zero paid no attention to him for some moments, before he spoke at last without looking up from his crossword book.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

"I think," Aido answered shortly, attempting to keep his temper in check, "That you ought to have learned your lesson by now."

Zero closed his book and looked up at Aido with hard, brittle eyes that glittered like raw amethyst. The look was so naked and mean that Aido almost fell back a step, but he stood his ground.

"What lesson would that be?" Zero asked, unmoving, as if he were an old thing, beaten and weathered and carved from stone.

"That you aren't needed any longer," Aido answered through gritted teeth. "You're a piece left over. The story is finished. Everyone is happy. There's no place for you. You're not wanted."

Aido expected Zero to draw on him, wanted to stare down the barrel of Bloody Rose in defiance, as if this would be the last nail in the coffin that proved him right, that delivered him justification for what he thought that he knew. But Zero just stared at him unblinking, unflinching, and then returned to his puzzle book. "That's not your decision to make."

Somewhat felled by Zero's inhuman display of humility and self-control, but still frustrated and angered by the impossible conundrum that Zero Kiryu presented, Aido sat down across from him helplessly.

"I don't have anything personal against you," Aido started, but then shook his head and corrected himself. "I have a lot of things personal against you. But you must know. You must know. There's no place for you here."

Zero looked up at him briefly, but it was as if his eyes were open, and yet he did not see. Zero was staring past him with eyes that were as hard and unforgiving as stone, and then Aido caught it: the faint taste of Kaname's blood on the air. The were both trapped in the moment, and then Zero looked down at his book again.

"It doesn't matter," he said. Then the moment weighed heavily on the both of them and Zero finished with no malice, simply tired resolution, "I'm here."

"But why?" demanded Aido, who was becoming overwrought because he was discovering that attempting to argue with Zero was like trying to argue with a mute toddler, or with a blank stone.

"That's none of your business," answered Zero flatly, and attempted to look as if he were busy with his crossword.

"Yuki," Aido supplied aloud without intending to. It was just there, on his tongue. He added, as a belated and nearly forgotten afterthought, "-sama."

It was just one word, but Zero looked up again and for a moment Aido was frightened of him, not because Aido feared for his own life, but because he feared what Zero might do, what Zero might be capable of doing that Aido would be helpless to stop. They had seen Zero and the monstrous light that had slain Rido Kuran. He was a vampire hunter who'd eaten his twin and drunk the blood of Kaname Kuran, of Yuki Kuran, and, by proxy, as Aido knew with sinking dread, he had also had the blood of Shizuka Hio, the Kuruizaki-hime, drawn through the wound on Kaname's neck. He could not deny it, as he'd seen all of these things with his own eyes. Let others consider Zero a feeble pest. Aido was not a fool.

Zero did not bear down on him with this malevolent gaze for long, as if such hate were difficult for him to hold together, so condensed and wretched. When he looked down again, Aido found that he had been holding his breath and resumed breathing with some shame and agitation.

But looking at Zero, an exile in a strange land, among those who hated him, or worse, simply refused to recognize his existence, Aido could not help but sigh and shake his head as he stood again.

"You're going to get hurt," he advised, and it was not a threat but a warning, honestly given. Aido gritted his teeth. He was worried for Kiryu again. Why was he always worried for Kiryu when he should have been worried for himself, or for Kaname --

"Probably," was all that Zero said in reply, and Aido shrugged and went back to where he was wanted.

-

When Kaname returned some time later, he found the club car polarized. Kain, Aido, and Ruka were all sitting clumped together in a corner like conspirators, as far away as they could get from Zero Kiryu. Zero had not moved at all, as if he had no necessities to take care of -- a glass of water or the toilet, for instance. He just sat as if he were stone dead and worked at his crossword book. Kaname nodded reassuringly at the black cowl society in the corner as he entered the car and found their faces a mixture of worry, resentment, and faint shame, as if they had been discovered at something they would have preferred he not witness.

That would be Aido: sowing the seeds of his worries in Ruka, who was fertile ground when it came to concern for Kaname's well-being and personal safety, and Kain, who was not so fertile, except when it came to listening to Aido, who could be very convincing with his concocted Sherlockian scenarios. Kaname could appreciate Aido's care for him, but he was also well aware of Aido's faults, perhaps the least of which was doubting and second-guessing his motives, secrets, and carefully laid plans. In this way Aido could be very bothersome.

Kaname did not fear Zero Kiryu or his intentions. He knew that Zero could no more endanger Yuki for his own selfish ends than he could turn himself into a pigeon who lived underground. Such a thing was not possible, no matter what Zero might claim when wallowing in his own bitterness. This knowledge was not so much rooted in trust of Zero as it was in an understanding of what Zero was capable of, or at least, this was the way that Kaname considered it.

Zero had always been a troubling piece: one who acted more than was strictly necessary. In this way he was not so very different from Yuki. One fed the other and this had made them sometimes unpredictable in the past.

But that was done now and Yuki was his as she had always been his, not by virtue of his right, which was undeniable and incontrovertible, but by her choice. Aido's fears and Zero's presence were an irritation, not a threat, and one he was willing to allow if Yuki desired it.

Such was the form of his love, he had decided, and it was in his power to have it writ on the face of the world.

He was Kuran. He would not be defied.

Even by himself.

In the end, no matter what Zero wanted or thought he wanted, all Kaname had to do was wait. Yuki slept in his bed. Yuki found her strength in his blood. He could not doubt her. He would not doubt her. It was as if every time he saw her she was newly born, over and over again, for him, through him, with him. Every moment she gave her vow, fresh and undiscovered and ancient. It was the tribute he required.

Zero Kiryu could offer her nothing but his empty, passive, castrated attention, which Yuki might receive politely, but there was a limit to Zero's patience with polite distance; this was something Kaname was sure of. He would hang around like a stray dog until he could stand it no longer, and then he would crawl away, limp and beaten by a gentle and inoffensive hand, by the hand that he craved.

Yuki was his.

She would not give Zero what he wanted.

All Kaname had to do wait, and his patience was monstrous. It was not a thing that could be known or measured by man. Or by a thing that had once been a man.

-

Zero looked up when Kaname entered the club car and watched the three former Night Class students bow their heads to him in deference, like low rung wolves rolling over to show their bellies. The girl, Ruka, covered her heart as she closed her eyes. Aido looked frustrated. Akatsuki leaned back in his chair to watch what Kaname would do.

Zero had no need of watching their display further and turned his attention back to his crossword book to ink in another clue.

LESSON.

Six across. Something to be learned or studied.

Many of the lessons that Zero had learned in his life he had learned with difficulty, through pain and misery, and sometimes through bleak despair. His master Toga Yagari had given up his eye as a sacrifice on the altar of Zero's weakness. His parents had been murdered before him, and he had been turned into a monster-thing, a creature he hated. Ichiru had been tormented by his kindness for a lifetime, before forcing Zero to make the choice that he could not make alone. He had finished his brother. He had not had the strength to finish the murderer of his parents. He still lived with the pulse of Shizuka Hio's filthy blood in his veins.

"Don't hate Shizuka-sama!"

"I think that Shizuka-sama is happy that you were the one who killed her."

His brother had loved that woman, that strange, inhuman specter: the princess of the madly blooming flowers, the petals that fell like snow, the kuruizaki-hime. He hated her as a monster, as a beast, as a thing that had tormented him for years, that still tormented him now, as a thing that had tried to rule him to bring about the turning of Yuki Cross. But he had eaten Ichiru, had taken back that other part into himself, and so while he hated her there was a part that could not hate her, no matter how he tried.

He did not love Shizuka Hio, but he could not spend his life drowning in hate of her.

She had loved Ichiru. That was a truth that Zero could not turn his eyes away from, although he wanted to.

He was grateful to her, grateful to the monster who had killed his kin. He was grateful for the fact that she had cared for Ichiru, who was his other flesh, but more importantly had been his brother.

Many of the lessons that Zero had learned in his life he had learned through hate, with pain, with misery, and with despair.

He had lived a life for revenge, had begun by digging two graves. He had been ready to run himself through on the spear that was Shizuka Hio, so long as she broke with his death. It was the only suitable punctuation for an abrupt, jagged, violent life. He had continued to live until he faced her sustained only by the sick, poisonous desire to see her dead before him.

"A lover's pact?"

There were times he hated that voice, the one that sang inside his mind and made him face things he rather would not see: that hate might be only a few steps removed from adoration, from supplication. He loved and hated himself in an uneven swing of scales that could only be reckoned by the eyes and fingers of Yuki Cross.

He still wanted her hands, her gentle hands, her eyes, her neck, the taste of her skin on his tongue, her mouth --

She was a vampire, a thing that he hated, a thing that he would see dead and buried, a monster who would eat the flesh and blood of the living.

But so was he, and she had no more chosen to be one than he had. And beyond and before she was a vampire or a pureblood or a Kuran, she was Yuki, and nothing could change that, not all the wishing in heaven. And nothing that Kaname Kuran said could change it, no matter how many times he said it.

"She is surely a pureblood daughter of the House of Kuran. What will you do now, hunter?"

He would do what had to be done to hang straight the crooked seeming of his universe.

He could hate himself, he could hate Yuki, but he could not hate her a drop in the ocean of how much he loved her.

This is because while many of the lessons Zero had learned in his life he had learned through hate and misery and despair, the most important he had learned through love. The love of his parents who had died fighting, died trying to protect him. The love of Ichiru, who had loved despite the frail meanness of his fate. The love of his master, who had given up an eye for him and demanded none in return. Her love. Yuki Cross. The star that lit the night when there was no moon. His love for her.

He had done with pushing her away. What had she saved his life for? Without her it was not worth living, a dry husk that left him yearning after a bullet in the chamber of Bloody Rose for his own mouth.

She had gone to stand beside Kaname Kuran, but this did not mean that he could not go to stand beside her.

She was the only thing that mattered in the world and he would humble himself before those he hated if it meant she would look at him. If he needed to let go of old hate to stand beside her, then he would do so or he would die. He was not troubled by these choices. They were the only ones he would allow.

He was not afraid of anything that Kaname Kuran might attempt to do to him. No suffering could equal the raw wound-agony of a future without Yuki's smiling face.

Zero Kiryu could face any humiliation, any punishment, any pain, anything, if it was for the sake of Yuki Cross.

-

Kaname crossed the club car to sit in the vacant seat across from Zero. Zero did not look up and Kaname did not speak, and time passed this way between them for centuries.

-

From the station at Haerbin they went to their lodgings in the city: an old fashioned hotel that Yuki found immediately charming. Zero followed them, rode in their taxi, dragged his own luggage behind him. It did not amount to much, just a bag that he carried over one shoulder. He still wore no coat, no hat, no gloves, although the wind coming into Haerbin was born over the tundra of Siberia. Zero appeared impervious. She resisted the urge to offer him her own hat or gloves because she knew Kaname would not like it and Zero would refuse besides.

After they had settled their things safely in their rooms, Kaname proposed that they go to the central plaza to see the snow sculptures, as the night had just settled.

So off they went in taxis again, Zero bareheaded and still carrying his bag, as though it were precious and he distrusted being parted from it.

When they arrived at the square, Yuki was delighted. There were dozens of things to see, huge and beautiful and shaped in the snow by patient, careful hands. She saw an angel carved from the snow, and a handsome king with distant-looking eyes. She marveled at everything, gasping in delight and surprise at each new vista they encountered as they wandered along the paths.

She walked with Kaname, her arm through his, and leaned her face against his shoulder whenever she saw something that particularly touched her heart. Zero followed five steps behind them, stopping when they stopped and going where they went. The rest of the group followed at a much more comfortable distance.

After they had been in the snow-fairyland for some time, Yuki spotted an expatriate European cafe and asked to go inside so they could all warm themselves and talk over the things they had seen. Kaname acquiesced and they soon found themselves inside the warm, welcoming front room of the cafe.

Yuki drank hot chocolate, ate marshmallows and petite biscuits spread with jam, and generally enjoyed herself.

They were out. They were out, all together, and it was nice.

Kaname drank his steaming tea slowly and seemed to draw more joy from watching Yuki devour biscuits than he did from tasting them himself.

Zero sat a few feet away from them, in the corner, and drank his own cocoa.

And so time passed, and they passed it, and Aido explained to her how the snow sculptures were made, and she chatted animatedly with Ruka about the beautiful snow angel and the other snow ladies they had seen. Kain commented on the number of biscuits she ate and she laughed. Seiren was not particularly talkative, and kept all her attention on Zero Kiryu, who in turn seemed to pay little attention to any of them, save Yuki.

When the conversation lulled, she went to stand beside him at one of the wide, paned windows that was knit over with frost pictures.

"I have some things for you, Yuki," Zero said to her, as if she had always been standing there next to him, as if they had been in the midst of a pleasant conversation. He was looking out the frost-paned window at the snow sculpture outside. It was a mermaid, a little mermaid who had beached herself on the snow. "From home."

He did not miss a beat as he spoke, but it hung there. From home. Our home. Cross Academy. The place to return to. He was still talking.

"And I'd like to talk some things over with you, if you'll listen to me."

Yuki nodded and looked out the window toward the mermaid before slowly smiling. "I'd like that, Zero. I'd like to have a talk."

She could explain things to him then. She could explain all the things she had wanted to explain, had tried to explain but found the words lacking, her body hollow and voiceless. She could tell him everything, how things really were, how they really were, and he would understand and everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. Zero would stop hurting. Kaname would not be hurt. Everyone could be happy. All she had to do was explain the way things were and everything would turn out all right.

She did not consider that she had no idea what it was that she would tell him, or that he might have something to say to her.

"Kaname," she asked, tugging on the dark sleeve of his great coat, "Can I go talk to Zero for a while? Do you mind? We need to talk some things over."

Kaname looked at her with deep carmine eyes she could not read and then smiled briefly. "You don't need to ask my permission to do the things you choose to do, Yuki. Go and speak with him. Go out and have a walk among the sculptures in the plaza. You'll be safe there, with Kiryu-kun as your escort," he touched her arm as if she needed the physical confirmation of his good will before she would consider departing. He looked back at the gathered company and continued, "I have some things to discuss with Seiren. Enjoy yourself. Just don't be long."

Kaname looked at Zero over Yuki's head, and they stared at one another for a moment that moved by, pale and gelatinous, but then Kaname smiled again, fleetingly.

"I'll trust you to look after Yuki," he said.

Zero grunted, then put his hand on Yuki's arm and led her out into the snow.

After they had gone Seiren made as if to follow them silently, but Kaname raised his hand to stop her. She bowed her head obediently and retreated to the shadows.

Kaname stood at the window, watching them make their way through the snow for a moment, and then he turned his back on the glass and moved to sit down in a chair far from the door.

"Compared to what has been," he thought calmly, "This will be a small storm to weather. Yuki must be allowed to be Yuki."

He let her go wander among the ice castles with her Kai.

-

The plaza was beautiful, a fairy land made of crystal spun from water. There were castles and palaces, churches, buildings of state, heroic figures on horses, charging into history, and the forlorn figure of the little mermaid, beached on the snow.

All of the snow sculptures were lit by colored lights that illuminated them against the dark of the winter night. A forest of snow trees had real leaves of brilliant maple red. The fairy buildings all looked like places she might visit. The little mermaid cried icy tears that had frozen to her face. It was like wandering in a dream of signs and symbols that Yuki recognized, but could not interpret.

They walked for a while in silence, looking at the monuments made of snow, winding their way between them. Sometimes she stopped to look at something and he patiently waited until she had seen all it was she wanted to see, and then they continued on.

They stopped at last before an ice cathedral, and they stood looking at it in silence for a while.

"I have some things with me that are yours," Zero reminded her, and she turned to him, curious.

He fished in his bag and produced a handful of letters, as if he had become her new long distance postman.

"One from the headmaster," he said, counting through them, "One from Wakaba. One from the dorm president. One from Maria Kurenai. She's staying at Cross Academy for the time being," he explained absently, handing the fistful of letters over, "The headmaster is looking after her."

He did not say, "Things haven't been stable among the vampires lately," because that was a thing he did not need to tell her. Kaname's comment that she would be safe looking at sculptures with Zero Kiryu had not been an idle one. Yuki did not go anywhere without an escort and she rarely strayed more than a dozen feet from Kaname himself.

But she did not dwell on this now, not with the promise of these envelopes, cream and colored, which had private secrets to share. She took them happily, excited to have her mitted hands upon messages of a far-off home. She scoured the envelopes for clues to their contents, but they had no postage and no return addresses, just her name on them, in varying scripts, like gifts at Christmas. There was the headmaster's Baroque scrawl, and Yori's neat and friendly hand. She put the letters carefully in her pockets. They were all treasures she would pore over at length later, when she was in the warm tranquility and comfort of the room she shared with Kaname.

Her thoughts were still on the letters so newly in her care when Zero interrupted her thoughts again.

"And I brought this to you," he said gruffly. "You forgot it in your room."

It was the short silver staff of Artemis folded in on itself like the waning moon. Zero held it by a handkerchief that Yuki recognized she had given him as a present some years past, heedless of the fact that it still had the power to shock him, should he lay a finger on it wrong. Yuki just stared at it, stared at him, stared at the handkerchief. He kept standing there blindly, offering it to her open-handed, like water for a horse that would not drink.

She shook her head and then stammered, "I left it behind. Zero, it's not right for me anymore -- "

"It's yours," he interrupted, then shook his head, as if it was not something that he understood himself. "It's yours, but if you don't want it right now, I'll hold onto it until you do."

Zero carefully laid Artemis away, as if it were a relic that was enshrined inside the humble church of his battered leather bag. As he pulled his hand out of the bag she wondered what other abandoned treasures he might produce, but then heard the rattle of a box of buttons and saw him shake a couple of blood tablets into his hand, which he threw in his mouth as he tossed his head back, swallowing them dry.

Liquid courage.

He was trying to fight back the physical need of it, which was not particularly convenient at this moment.

"You can take them now?" she asked, a little cheered. She was happy to see him doing better, no longer buckling under the strain of such terrible, maddening thirst. Yuki knew what it was like to try and fight such a thirst, now, to try and fight it against all the wishes of a body that did not want to respond to your sense, to your reason. Zero did not deserve to be chained to such a destiny. "Your body isn't rejecting them anymore, I mean."

He shrugged and answered, "It's what I do."

Of course. It was what he did now. He didn't take her blood any more so what blood did he have, did he want --

She shook her head and wisps of hair flurried around her face. She wasn't thinking things that made any sense. It was good that Zero was taking the tablets. It kept things from being cruel and messy. Perhaps she should write to her father and ask him to send some to her.

"It makes things better," she thought, "There are less things to fear."

"There are less things to feel," her heart echoed back to her. "He is cutting himself off from you. Will you cut yourself off from Kaname in response? This will not bring the happiness of anyone."

She shut her eyes tightly to try and drown out the sound of the voice that delivered her difficult truths, and when the sound finally stilled, she tried again to speak to him as they had done before, in elder days, by a common hearth.

"So do you think you might tell me why you're here?" she asked, leaning forward and tilting her head, smiling cocksure and confident in an attempt to cover her unease.

"Yes, I thought that's what I'd tell you," Zero said very slowly, and she found he was looking at her hard. She flushed and looked away.

"So out with it, Zero," she demanded, waving her arms and trying desperately to grasp the absurdity of the situation. He couldn't make her feel this way. He was just Zero. She had helped to do his laundry. She had folded his underwear. He was not threatening. He was just Zero. Just Zero. "Are you on a secret mission?" she asked, "Did the headmaster send you to find out if I'm doing well? Why did you come all this way? I mean, the ice and snow sculptures are beautiful, but I bet you didn't just come sight-seeing. Are you on a training trip? Does anyone miss me at home? It'd be nice if we could all have ramen together again -- "

"I love you, Yuki," was what he said, very seriously, derailing her pleasant chatter. Her lip trembled because he had frozen her there, split her open, but he did not look away from the grotesque spectacle he had exposed, although his eyes softened in apology, as if he owed her one. "I should have told you a long time ago. That's why I'm here. I came to say what had to be said."

"Zero, don't be silly," Yuki tried to laugh and found her voice a little too shrill and unnatural, "You don't love me. You can't love me. You hate me. I'm a vampire -- "

"So am I," he answered her evenly and she threw her hands in the air.

"I'm a pureblood. I'm someone you hate. You want to kill me, remember -- "

"You're Yuki," he corrected her, "Yuki is Yuki. That's all that matters."

"You're not serious," she shouted at him, keening with panic, "Don't be crazy. Stop being crazy, Zero. You can't mean what you're saying. You know, you know everything that's happened -- "

"Yuki is Yuki," he repeated steadily. "That's all that matters to me."

Yuki took off her hat and waved it angrily at him, "Stop messing with me, Zero. Stop being strange! You don't know what you're talking about -- "

"You had my blood," he said fiercely as he grabbed her arm at the elbow and forced her to look at him. "You can't deny the truth that's in my blood."

"Zero," she tried feebly to wriggle away, "Zero. What's going to happen to us, Zero?"

"You saved my life," he interrupted her, and she was captured by his eyes again. There was a candle flame there, one that flickered as he spoke, a flame that licked at her. "Now I wonder what it is that you saved it for."

She could not answer him, had no words to tell him, no words that mattered. She stopped fighting, and he held her weight there as he stared at her as if she were a strange sea creature, newly captured from a vent in the briny, saltwater depths of the ocean.

"I can't live without you, Yuki," he said, and she knew this was not the crazed admonition of a demented lover, but a truth that was torn from deep in his guts. He was showing her handfuls of himself that he ripped out to exhibit to her so she could not look away from him, despite how he was suffering, because of how he was suffering. "I won't live. I refuse to live."

"Zero -- "

"Yuki, listen to me," he insisted, and shook her so that her panic subsided momentarily and she was forced to look at him again, the two of them standing there in the cold, her hair being carried behind her by the chill wind. "I don't want anything from you that you aren't willing to give. I just want you to let me stay near you. And," he took a deep breath, "I want you to recognize, just this once, who I am and what I've said to you."

"You don't have to love me," he was saying, "Just recognize that I exist."

It was not real, none of this was real, none of this could be real.

"Yuki, what am I to you?"

It was ringing in her ears.

He let her loose, let her stand on her own two feet again, and she hugged herself tightly as she watched him watching her.

"You're the one who saved this life," he was speaking slowly and very gravely. "And you're the one who'll decide what to do with it. It belongs to you, now. That means it's your responsibility."

"Zero," she begged and felt lightheaded again, "Be serious."

"I am being serious," he answered sharply, but the sound carried no malice. He shook his head and tried to soften his words. "I won't leave you now, for as long as I live. You have a choice to make, Yuki. Either you recognize me, or you'll have to kill me."

He unsnapped the buckle holding Bloody Rose in its holster and offered it to her, butt first, the silver chain dangling between them like a diamond necklace, or a sterling leash. She stood staring at him dumbly, her hands drawn to her chest. He stood perfectly still, carved from wood, carved from stone, hand gripping the cool metal barrel of Bloody Rose, refusing to move or to draw the gun away until she had made her decision.

"Zero," she pleaded, "I can't kill you. Don't be an idiot -- "

"Yuki," he said, and his voice was sharp and firm enough to stop what was in danger of becoming a hysterical episode. His eyes picked up the light from the sculpture behind them and glimmered. He was so terrible and serious she could hardly bear to look at him, but she could not look away, not from Zero. She could never look away.

"Think now," he said, "This is an important decision. You must decide. Either you accept what I've said, or you kill me. I won't," he looked away briefly and blinked once, twice, a rapid movement of his lashes, and when he looked back he was giving her a smile that was gentle and so private that she was almost ashamed to keep his gaze, but he had captured her eyes. She could not look away from him.

"Never look into the eyes of a vampire, for they will devour your soul."

She felt devoured, devoured and consumed. He had eaten her. He had eaten some essential bit of her, swallowed it whole and held it now, where she could not reach it.

"I won't blame you, whichever you choose, Yuki," he said, and she was lost against the low, uncertain roughness of his voice. "Make the choice that will make you happy. I'll accept your decision."

He stood there, and Bloody Rose glimmered like it was spun from snow. He would take a bullet for her sake, if she was willing to pull the trigger herself. She could not think. She could not think.

All she could think of was Zero, a boy crouched alone in the dark of a room, hating the stench of his own blood, Zero, a man who had taken from her and given to her, a man who was stupid and awful and terrible at dealing with people, who was kind, and jealous, and had a wicked temper, and was gentle, was so gentle, always taking care of her. He gave to her more than what he took away, what she had given to him, a hand held in the dark and warmth at her back when the world was cold, and all he wanted was to be allowed to love her, to be allowed to continue living.

"Zero, I want you to know that I'm on your side. I may not be the most dependable ally, but I'll be here, when you need me."

"I won't," she sobbed and covered her face. It was all she could say. "I won't. I won't."

"Yuki, what am I to you?"

He did not withdraw the gun, but kept looking at her steadily.

Zero.

Zero.

He was Zero.

"Then you recognize me?" he asked, his voice low and uneven, as if he were struggling terribly not to give himself away. "You recognize what I've told you, Yuki Cross?"

She pulled her hands away from her face. She could not look away from Zero, not when he was standing there, bare before her. He had given her himself.

"I want Zero to live," she shouted at him, chilly tears drying on her cheeks from the force of the cold wind. The sobs trembled in her chest as she repeated, in a tone she struggled to master, "I want Zero to live."

"It will probably be very difficult," he warned her gently, and offered her the gun a last time, a brief push toward her fingertips.

She shook her head and fought to smile against the tears.

"It's always been difficult," she corrected, and he holstered Bloody Rose and put his arms around her quietly, briefly, an attempt to keep the rising wind off of her face. "It's always been difficult," she said again, and then sighed, "But that's the way it is. Thank you, Zero. Thank you for being Zero. You always giving me more than I'm worth."

"That's not possible," he answered her passionately, his eyes flashing ozone purple, the imprint-image of a lightning strike. Then he had collared himself and repeated in a more normal voice, "That's not possible." He took a deep breath, "I won't force myself on you, Yuki."

He released her from his firm, deliberate embrace and she found it strange to be standing on her own again. She was still dizzy, her mind spinning. She could not say which direction was up and which was down, which was ground and which was heaven. He put his hand on her shoulder to steady her, and she lifted a mitted hand to brush his bare fingertips in thanks. It was a casual touch, something that had come and gone between them a hundred times. She tried to smile again.

"But I'll be here," he continued seriously, "Whenever you need me."

She closed her eyes as she smiled at him and a last, unspent tear slipped down her cheek to dry in the wind.

"I'm tired," she said, and it was true. She felt a thousand years old. She turned to look at the cafe across the plaza and her hair whipped by her face, loose from her hat. He clamped a hand down on her hat and shoved it more firmly back on her head and she laughed, spent and exhausted. When she looked at him she found that he was smiling too, a little, just a very little, but Zero was smiling.

"Let's go back to Kaname," she said, and he nodded without answering.

They moved off across the plaza together, his hand on her back to keep her steady on the packed snow.

-

Author's Note: Everyone in this story needs therapy. But not for the reasons you might suspect. This is naturally based on the continuity established by the anime series, as denoted by the spoilers warning above. I may as well title the next chapter "All the things that happened that Kaname did not like."