A/N : Not mine. All Kouga Yun's. I don't own Loveless. I don't make any money out of it.

This chapter is the last one. I want to thank you for having read, reviewed or followed my story. You made me very happy.

Chapter 22

I've got news. When can you get here?

It took them less than a hour, quite a feat considering the late hour. They barely knocked on his door before bursting in. And there he was, quietly reading a book with a coffee nearby as if he hadn't gone missing for a whole month.

"Where the hell have you been? You could at least have sent a message!" Yōji yelled at him, all his worry turning into peeved anger while Natsuo hung back and contemplated them.

"You're different," he interjected after a few minutes of his Sacrifice reprimanding Ritsuka while their friend only born it patiently and somewhat smugly.

"Really Natsuo? How so?"

"You look— at peace. Usually you're sullen with small lines between your eyebrows, even when you're content. And you wouldn't have let Yōji yell at you for so long without getting angry."

"Long story Natsuo. Care to hear it?" They nodded. "Tea, coffee or beer?"

"Beer," they both answered enthusiastically.

"Naturally."

He took out three chilled bottles and settled comfortably near them. He smiled. If there was someone he was willing and glad to share the news with, it was them. His friends. They have come such a long way together. He had texted them the second he came back into his flat. He hadn't even unpacked yet.

"I've missed you." He began.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere. Start talking now," the other Sacrifice muttered, still annoyed.

"And there I was, thinking I could drag it out a little, make it more suspenseful." Yōji grumbled. "To the point then."

"Ritsuka—" he warned.

"Ah, alright. I went looking for my Fighter. Happy, now?" They went from annoyed to excited and fully interested instantly.

"So what? Did you find him?" Yōji asked, always the direct one.

"It's a guy, isn't he? Tell me it's a guy, Ritsuka, or I'll lose my bet and I would owe him a fat load of money," Natsuo pleaded.

"You made bets?" he picked up.

"Irrelevant, Ritsuka. Focus." He blinked. He should have known, really. At the very least, he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Of course he's a guy. A handsome one, moreover."

"Oh, little Ritsuka is in love again?" they teased.

"He's my Fighter. What did you expect?" he replied, unfazed.

"How did you find him? How did you win him over? Where is he now? Oh, this is exciting news Ritsuka! We've been wondering for years! When are we meeting him? Do we know him?"

"You're worse than girls! A few more questions you'd like to throw in since you're at it?"

"Don't bitch Ritsuka. You could have kept us updated and we wouldn't be so parched for information." He laughed. Yes, he had missed them. They really were something.

"You're happy," Natsuo commented. "It's been years since I heard this laugh." Ritsuka smiled indulgently at him.

"Hm, yes, Natsuo. I'm happy. Happier than I've felt for years. It's a nice change."

"I told you once that the day you'd find your true Fighter, you'd forget about Soubi. Told you you'd fall in love again," Yōji interjected.

"That you did," he answered but his smile seemed a bit forced and his good mood dimmer. "What do you want to know first?"

"Tell us how you found him."

"Ah, tricky question. Can you choose another? I'll get to this one later."

"Hm, what did you do?" Ritsuka looked at him, a hint of humour on his lips. Whatever would burst out of his lips would have to be taken with a pinch of salt.

" Yōji," he warned affectionately "are you sure you want to know?"

"Well, of course I do!" he exclaimed not taking the hint.

"Well, we've spent an awfully long time in his bed and—" he began wiggling his eyebrows and not bothering to keep his impudent grin in check.

"Stop it! That's not what I'm interested in!"

"Are you sure?" he insisted, cheeky. Natsuo howled in laughter beside him at the distress on his Sacrifice's face.

"You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Well, I'm sorry but you brought this upon yourself. Did you hear me ask anything like that? Look at him! He's beaming," he insisted. "He just needs so much to say the lewdest ideas that cross his mind."

"Can't you be serious?" Yōji asked with a hint of dismay.

"You're a kill-joy. I was having so much fun at your expense."

"That's exactly my thoughts too," he mumbled.

"Ah, well, if it can't be avoided. I've known where he lives for some time now and I've reached out months ago already. But I kept it down and cautious. I didn't want Seimei to have an inkling about it. That would have made a right mess, don't you think? So, at the beginning of the holidays, I went there, stayed in a hotel."

" A month in a hotel? With what money exactly?"

"I've been saving for years. I'm not that destitute. Where was I? Ah, yes. I went to his place every day. I asked him to show me around, talked about him, about me, about what we like and don't like. Went there, done that, blah, blah, blah."

"You've been training him in other words."

"Yes," he admitted. "I had to strengthen our bond. I was the only one who could feel and see it. He had been— difficult."

"So, you didn't spent that much time in his bed, did you?

"Not as much as I would have," he admitted. "But hey, he'll be moving here in a few days. Well, no. That's wishful thinking. A few weeks might be more accurate. And then I'll have him all for myself." He smiled wistfully.

"And we won't see you for how long exactly?" Yōji asked, always the pragmatic one.

"Do you really need an answer?" Natsuo sighed. Yōji opened his mouth to talk back but got a glimpse of Ritsuka's brazen grin and wisely declined.

"How did you manage to convince him in the end?" Natsuo wondered. Yōji winced, finally understanding that Ritsuka was in such high-spirits that he was willingly picking on any double-meaning he could find.

"To jump me? I can be very persuasive, you know," he flirted shamelessly, leaning closer to Natsuo. "Do you need to be convinced?"

"Ritsuka, you don't get to make a pass at my Fighter! Hands off him immediately!"

"Calm down, I was just joking. There's no one I desire apart from my Fighter." His face turned serious again and he began his narrative again. "Actually, I had exhausted all the ideas I had to bond. So I gambled. I called him to me. But it was difficult and required a great deal of effort and concentration because we didn't share a name. I was exhausted. Honestly, it took all I had to appear unfazed when he arrived. I was so drained I just wanted to fall on the spot and sleep until the next day."

"Didn't share a name? As in past time?"

"As in past time, yes."

"When did it appear?"

"You really don't want to know," he replied gently. Both took the hint and wisely remained silent.

"Ritsuka, how did you hurt your hand?"

"I punched a wall. Repeatedly."

"That must have gone well. I'm sure your Fighter was much impressed." Ritsuka smiled gleefully.

"Coincidentally," he continued, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree, "I've also broken Seimei's nose."

"What?!" Natsuo spluttered while Yōji choked on his beer. "Beloved? Are you insane?"

"It was long overdue. I'd gladly have another go but I'm not sure I could manage it. Nor get away with it honestly. And how good that felt! You have no idea how long I've wished to mar this handsome face of his."

"What possessed you to do this? You went against Beloved for crying out loud!"

"He threatened my Fighter." His face hardened and his eyes reduced to slits. "He may deem Fighters inferior and mere tools but no-one is allowed to bully mine without retribution. I protect my own." His features were harsh and sullen again. Gone were the humour, the good mood, the joy. Unyielding, bellicose and serious Ritsuka was back.

"But Beloved?" Yōji pleaded. "And you got away with it? Are you hurt?"

"He was very accommodating," he said and his features relaxed. "And only my hand complained." He tried vainly to flex his fingers and winced.

Natsuo looked at him thoughtfully while his Sacrifice processed all the information. Yōji would fill in the gaps later for him. There was something fishy. Ritsuka wasn't telling them everything and took his sweet time to reveal the rest. He had no doubt he would be honest til the end. But he was clearly enjoying himself far too much to be straightforward.

"How did Seimei find you?" Yōji finally asked.

"I had him called."

"You confronted him with a barely acquired Fighter with whom you had never fought? You're a lunatic," Yōji stated.

Ritsuka only smiled softly, the steely gleam in his eyes not yet disappearing. He had taken pleasure in the altercation, Natsuo was sure of it. He had rejoiced in punching his brother and had no remorse at all. He knew Ritsuka had told the truth when he had claimed he'd like to hit Seimei again. Preferably repeatedly if he knew his friend well. He didn't even care about his hand and talked about it as evidence of his success. There was a hard and dangerous edge to him that rarely showed. The very few times it had, it had pertained to Soubi. 'I will go get Soubi back. But it's Seimei I'm going to face.' He remembered Ritsuka's would always remember the cold and unwavering gleam in his eyes that day. The same he was sporting right now.

"Who is your Fighter, Ritsuka?" Natsuo asked calmly and seriously.

"I'm sure you already know. You're only looking for confirmation, aren't you?"

"I'd like to know if I guessed correctly, yes."

"What are you two on about? How can you know Natsuo? He told us next to nothing."

" Yōji," Ritsuka called, drawing his attention. "You should know there is only one Fighter I will ever accept."

"Soubi?" he blinked, dazed. "But he's Beloved." Something hardened in Ritsuka's eyes. Something dangerous.

"No, he isn't. He should never have been Seimei's in the first place. And now, he is mine and rightfully so."

"And Seimei let him go?"

" Soubi is mine, Yōji," he insisted heavily. "My brother stole him from me and carved him. I can assure you he will never take my Fighter away from me again."

There it was again. The steely gleam, the determination, the resentment. It was never far and Ritsuka didn't need much to react each time Soubi was concerned. Their bond was strong, there was no denying it. If they also shared a name now, they would be fierce opponents in a Battle.

"Calm down, Ritsuka. I'm just surprised, that's all. I've never heard of a Fighter who changed his name."

"He hasn't changed his name. He has finally assumed his true name. That's different. Carved him like a ripe pumpkin— Seimei deserved far more than a broken nose," he declared, all excitement gone and a dark anger surfacing.

"Ritsuka," Natsuo interjected. "It's okay now," he appeased. "We're happy for you both. After all this time, you finally get your wish granted. You certainly deserve so."

"So Ritsuka," Yōji said after a few minutes of tense silence, "you slept with Soubi?"

"In your dreams. You won't know a thing about it," Ritsuka answered good-naturedly, his anger dissipating.

"Come on!"

"I said no."

"How long did it take you to get into his pants?"

"Forget it."

"Is he a good shag at least?"

"Let go."

"You've been waiting for so many years, was it up to your standards?"

"Fuck you Natsuo!"

"No thank you, that's your thing, not mine."

They bantered until late in the night. By the time they were too tired to continue, morning was there. But Ritsuka fell asleep happy, knowing in a few weeks at most, his Fighter would be with him. For as long as they wished. Or better yet, until death do them part.

End

Again, thanks for sticking with me until the end. I hope you enjoyed reading at least as much as I enjoyed writing. Cheers.