I forced this one because I was on a plane; I hope the contrived nature of the writing isn't obvious.

Also, credit to mizamiko who introduced me to dark!Akari by way of her wonderful fics. Thanks, mizamiko. I hope I've done justice to your characterization.

There are times when the doctor weighs their trespasses. Does Hirato's sword or Akari's scalpel possess the crueler edge? Certainly death comes swiftly to those straying into his lover's sights. Perhaps this is mercy. The realization suggests that Akari's the more barbarous of the two. It makes a twisted sort of sense. He takes lives while performing the pantomime of a healer, after all.

Experimenting on live subjects isn't novel. He's been an adept since joining Research Tower years ago. Varuga aren't human, he's learned. The words are repeated like a mantra; they provide a modicum of comfort in the ever-decreasing distance between scientist and criminal. He mourns them, though. Late at night, standing atop a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean, Akari offers prayers to non-existent gods. Sometimes he offers incense. Always, always he offers remorse.

No amount of remuneration erases the mangled figures from his mind. Not when the discovery Karokou's notebook has occasioned a new set of frighteningly similar memories.

Given this, it's especially puzzling that he rebuffs Hirato when the latter returns with blood staining his clothes. The captain showers immediately on these evenings, apparently eager to wash away the day's deeds.

Tonight, Akari contemplates why the state of Hirato's soul is more disconcerting than that of his own. No answer materializes, so he consigns this concern to his own hypocrisy. In hopes of assuaging the resultant unease, he joins his companion. The brunet is mildly surprised when the shower door slides open, but he allows Akari to step in without comment. Steaming water ripples invitingly over Hirato's back. The blond instinctively traces its flow over taut muscles. Tension builds in the flesh he's exploring, but he only registers how well he's been marked after the commander turns around.

"Why come to me now?" Hirato inquires gently, arms winding around the researcher's waist and tugging him under the spray.

Akari etches patterns into heat-flushed skin. "I want to know how."

"How what?"

Unyielding peach meets amethyst. "How you can kill mercilessly yet touch me like this—like taking me to bed is a kind of absolution."

A somber flicker clouds Hirato's features. It's replaced almost instantly with a knowing smile. The brunet's proficiency at artiface obviously remains, but his words are sincere. "We're not saints. For us, there's no salvation, no happily ever after. We must pilfer contentment."

"Steal happiness?" the physician scoffs. "Such trite philosophy."

The captain chuckles affably. "You're unconvinced, hmm? I'll demonstrate then." He curls a finger under the doctor's chin and barely kisses the corner of his mouth. "Like this."

Quirked lips capture Akari's before Hirato whispers again. "And like this."

A third murmur plays along his collarbone. "And like this."

And he thinks that Hirato's blood-stained hands and deceitful lips could redeem him. It's improbable, likely impossible, but if the slightest chance obtains, he'll cling to that hope.

Thievery would be the least of Akari's sins.

On the subject of Akari's prayers: They aren't a believer's prayers. The doctor doesn't strike me as the religious type. Rather, they're an expression of contrition - the product of an ever-rational mind coming to grips with the irrationality of guilt. Ever do something you couldn't understand? So does Akari (rarely, but still). Well, at least in my head!canon he does... I don't know if it works or not, honestly.

Also, dearest readers, I'd like to thank you for your feedback. You really make my days a bit brighter, even when you're tough critics. I'm floored that you'd like me to continue this, seriously. Everything I write is for you (well, almost everything), so I'll continue. But given that I'm getting bored, I'll update Karnevalesque exclusively in response to reader-submitted prompts. So prompt me. With reasonable requests, okay? No aliens, cowboys, or teary Hiratos and incompetent Akaris.