Mika's entire body was in pain. An excruciating pain that can't be called or defined by mere words alone. It was pure agony like he was trapped between the world of the living and the world of the dead.

There was no sense of time, there was no sense of direction or orientation. It was questionable to whether or not he even was.

But the feeling of something missing was proof that he was alive enough, or maybe he was in Hell. It wouldn't surprise him, after everything he'd done to deserve it.

As opposed to the last time he was in a position like this, the world was pure white, a blank slate. Everywhere he looked was a pure white canvas, unmolested by the trials of life or the pain that would await anything.

Echoing laughter broke out around him, a child's laugh, not unlike that of the canvas, a laugh full of new life that didn't know what the world was going to come to, a child bred from naievity.

Searching for the source, Mika flung his senses outward, looking, looking, looking. Nothing. As soon as he let his guard down, a spatter of black appeared on the otherwise perfect white. Then voices, voices he hadn't heard in a long time screamed around him.

"Useless! Pathetic! Abomination! You don't deserve to live! You owe our lives to us, so when we tell you to stop crying and suck it up, you damn well do what you're told!" Breathing seemed unnecessary in this Hell, but if it was possible, Mika's breath would have caught in his throat. They were dead. The sound of a hand hitting soft flesh rang in his ears, followed by a child's gasp of pain.

A splatter of crimson, betrayal. He had placed his trust in his parents, and they had treated him like that. He could practically feel the sharp sting of a slap on his cheek, right where his parents would strike, sometimes he cut his lip, sometimes he didn't. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he didn't. But no matter what he did, he could never appease them, they were always mad at him.

The revving of a car engine played in his ears. If his eyes could widen then they would, and in his mind's eye, he could see that night, the night everything changed. He could see his father in the front seat, driving, and his mother sitting beside him. He could hear himself sniffle and rub his nose. He remembered it as vividly as the day it happened, he had revisited this memory several times over, trying to figure out what he had done wrong, and still to this day, he couldn't figure it out. Maybe it was a collection, and they had just had enough. Maybe he was just inherently bad.

He saw through younger eyes as he moved to grab a tissue, his young hands reaching for the box by his mother. As his hands reached out beyond his mother, she slapped them away, a fire in her eyes that he had never seen before. It was more than her usual anger at any of his actions, but he must not have seen anything different at the time because it only stopped him for a moment.

She slapped his hand away and screamed words that he would remember because they changed his life. "What do you think you're entitled to? Do you think that just because I gave birth to you that you are entitled to happiness? Do you think that I love you? You were a mistake! You were never meant to be! You're just a waste of time and money! You. You are a horrible horrible creation! Now just get lost and die."

Her last words were emphasized by splattering of neon green paint on the canvas. Abandonment was such a prominent feeling that always seemed to advertise itself. Hey, look at me, I don't have a family!

He heard the small click! of his seat belt being undone, like his life being so simply ticked away. It was almost comedic how something that could mean the difference between life and death would be so easily undone. The car door was flung open, and furious hands were on his shoulders and he was shoved out of the moving car.

He tumbled onto the asphalt, rolling and scratching up his skin, tattering his clothes. There was a ditch that he fell into, rolling to a stop there. And it was there he cried, his tears emphasized by blue drops falling onto the canvas in front of him. He was too wounded and tired to move, and so he laid there on the ground for what felt like ages, the sun rose and he didn't care, the sun started to fall, and a person approached him.

A new color painted the canvas, now nowhere near the white that it once was. A soft yellow was sprayed across, hope was like that, thin in some places, but always managing to show itself.

He remembered the officer's kind voice asking what was wrong, and then being ushered into a car. Maybe he should have resisted, but he didn't respond to anything at the time, nothing meant anything. He remembered the shiny hospital that he was taken to, and the comfy bed that they laid him on. There was a nurse who was very nice to him, giving him sweets, and easing his pain.

Then he was taken to the Hyakuya orphanage, which was where he met his real family, a rosy pink color. Time seemed to flow and pain seemed to ebb as he relived old memories of the orphanage and the children there, caught in happy times. Until Christmas day struck.

The beginnings of a dark grey stain appeared on the canvas, uncertainty. His parental figures had all managed to leave him. And given him and Yuu their roles.

But he was still happy. In the vampire city, he still had the children that had become his family. He learned that he loved to read and that it was exciting planning ways to escape with Yuu.

The colors somehow seemed chaotic, but they all morphed together to form a breathtaking picture. Until the large splatter of black struck the canvas. It was like a bucket had been dropped, completely coloring the pink and yellow, and marring the many other colors. Loss, like a black void that ate everything away, leaving only itself. An empty feeling.

He saw the night. The night everything had gone wrong. He saw flashes of everything that had happened. Akane's pleading features, Ferid's cruel smile as he struck his arm through Mika, Yuu's desperation as Mika pushed him away, urging him to run.

The entire canvas soon became black, covering up everything else. The silence became absolute, nothing could be heard, not a breath, not a heartbeat.

Until he was stabbed. He saw the perfect green eyes that had been hard with anger, and instantly widened in horror and recognition. The colors rained down once more. The feelings of sadness and hope and family springing forth once more. The colors painted a mural of his entire life, from the beginning to the end. And they showed a picture, of what his life was for.

The beauty was breathtaking, and heart-wrenching. It was Yuu and Mika as children in the vampire city. Almost as if a snapshot had been taken of his life, Yuu wearing a slightly irritated face as Mika slung himself over his shoulders, laughing away. The background was black, but everything else was as cheerful as could be. They were together and that was all that had mattered back then.

And his world was perfect, but he knew he couldn't stay. He knew that Yuu had left the world he was struggling to return to, but he knew that Yuu would want nothing else from him, he would want him to save his friends, even if they were humans that were using him. And he would carry out Yuu's wish if it was the last thing he would ever be able to do, even if it went against everything he had ever stood for.

He fought against everything that held him in his Hell. He fought the memory of his parents, the memory of the orphan children, he fought Ferid's mocking smile, and finally, he fought Yuu. This wasn't necessarily a fight, more of a right of passage. Yuu let him through, Yuu accepted him for the monster he was and still loved him.

The force holding him down was all-powerful, like trying to swim up a waterfall. He was battered at every twist and turn, chilled in reality, and almost drowned in his sorrows, but his last unspoken promise kept him going. He wouldn't let Yuu down, he couldn't let Yuu down, not now, not after everything he had failed to do for him already. There was a lightning like he was reaching the top of a dark pool and seeing the sun through the undulating waves.

The closer he got to the light, the more pronounced the pain in his shoulder was, the more he resented himself for everything that he had done in his life, the more he wanted to return. It would be so simple now, to just let go. If he just let go, everything would be so simple, he could make his own reality where everything went perfectly, he and Yuu could stay together forever, they could run away together, just like they had wanted when they were kids.

Finally, he reached the light, His shoulders blazing with pain, and he saw the destruction that he had wrought. The world was real, and he knew it to be real because there was no way his mind could conjure up such an atrocity. The ceiling had fallen in, two people lay dead or dying from large wounds, and others lay strewn across the floor or limp. Some cried over dead bodies, their tears would do nothing for them now.

He collapsed with the pain in his lungs, one felt like it was filled with blood, the other was heaving. The back of his shoulder was a white-hot pain, and it felt like something was dragging on the ground, but it was still part of him. His body caved in over the cold, limp body of Yuu. His arms were deadened with the weight of his friend. He barely had enough strength to lift his head, and when he did, the Hell was still there.

There was a man who was standing over him, his sword to the back of his neck. People looked at him with varying degrees of fury, pity, and relief that he had fallen. Satisfaction in his pain.

None of them had realized that he wasn't whatever he had been but mere seconds ago, that he wasn't whatever had wrought this destruction. Three figures stood in his path, they had raised themselves from the grief of losing a teammate, and now stood wiping away tears and standing with resolve.

Mika heard a slight pop and a white tiger was bounding towards him, behind that, he saw the slight movement of the three people, moving in practiced unison. He raised his head as he felt the pressure of the tiger's impact.

He lowered his head onto Yuu's as the first blade removed one shoulder.

He closed his eyes as the blade that had been at his neck bit deep into his back.

He placed his lips on the cold forehead that laid underneath him as the shot pierced his heart.

Mika could feel the warm blood rushing out of his body, his fingers getting colder and colder as his toes got colder and colder. His heart beat slower and slower, his lungs didn't fill as they once were. With his last strength, he raised his head and looked into the light of the sun, whispering one last phrase to the world.

"Thank You"

"Thank You."

Mika had thanked them for killing him.

Usually, that's not the reaction that you get after taking a life.

He had been his real self there at the end, it had taken Yoichi a few moments to realize and in those moments, he had lost the opportunity to save a life. A life that had caused so much destruction; but it was still a life nonetheless.

But maybe it was a good thing. There was no way that Mika would have been able to continue living as he was. The humans would fear him as a vampire, and the vampires would shun him as a Seraph. There was no place in the world for him now.

Yoichi looked back on the bodies of his fallen comrades. There was Kimizuki, laying in the rubble with the bloody shirt pressed against his chest. If you removed the bloodied shirt, it almost looked as if he were simply sleeping. It appeared he was simply a Sleeping Beauty, waiting for his kiss.

Mitsuba, laying on the flat ground, her mouth slightly open and tinged with the color red. Her hair was in tangles around her face, and her jacket was torn open. He could see the bloodstain that her body had created when she had been dragged across the floor.

And Yuu. Mika had collapsed on top of him in his final moments, so his body was slightly obscured. But he could still see the gray pallor skin and his raven colored hair. Yoichi could see the cuts on his arms and legs, the wounds inflicted on him during his time in the red room. But worst of all was his smile. Yuu had kept his final smile on his lips even after death, it was like he wanted everyone to know that he was happy now that he had passed.

All of them looked so serene where they laid, their bodies were illuminated by the gaping hole in the ceiling, with the sun high. With the dust and debris still in the air, all those particles caught the light and it seemed so cliché that they all landed on the bodies, but that was what happened.

Yoichi almost didn't want to ruin the perfection of them, but he knew he couldn't just leave them there. He walked past the fallen Mitsuba, the hole in her chest not disguised by the jacket she wore. He walked to Kimizuki, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes still open. The white shirt Yoichi had used to try and stop his bleeding turned red on his chest.

Yoichi felt a dampness on his cheeks as he stared at the body that had loved him and he had been too oblivious to realize it or admit to himself that he had loved him just as much. He cursed himself for being dense, for being too weak, for giving up, for trying to be something that he wasn't. He fell to his knees, probably scratching them in the process, but he couldn't be bothered at the moment. He placed his head on the chest of the pink haired man, gripping the bloodied shirt between his hands in frustration.

That was how he let himself cry. He wept on Kimizuki's body, the one place that he had consolation and confidence. He grabbed Kimizuki's limp hand within his own, trying to draw confidence from it.

His grief was interrupted by a horrendous cracking and crashing sound that shook the entire room. When he looked up, Yoichi noticed a huge rock falling from the ceiling. It crashed down on the other side of the room, but it still caused a minor earthquake that set off a chain reaction of more falling from the ceiling.

Without thinking, Yoichi grabbed Kimizuki's body and maneuvered it so it was over his shoulder and just ran. Looking between the rubble on the floor and the rocks falling from the ceiling, Yoichi was able to make it safely to the edge of the room, almost dying three times from falling rocks.

Looking back, he saw that Shinoa was having problems doing the same thing that Yoichi had just done. He dropped Kimizuki's body as quickly and carefully as he could and ran back to help her with Mitsuba. Hurdling over the debris from other rocks was getting more difficult to do now that more rocks had fallen, and he knew that it would only get more and more difficult as time went on.

He swung Mitsuba's body over his shoulder, just as he had done with Kimizuki, but easier, and gave Shinoa a shove to get her running. He tried to follow the path that she took, but it was harder when you were carrying a body over your shoulder. Before long, Shinoa took a considerable lead over Yoichi, nimbly jumping from rock to rock and never losing her footing on the rubble. He followed in her footsteps and leaped on the rocks she leaped onto, trusting in his own sense of balance to keep him and Mitsuba off the floor, because he knew if he fell, it would be death for him.

Miraculously, he made it to the entrance of the room, where he had placed Kimizuki without falling, or dropping Mitsuba's body. Shinoa was there, her hands on her knees, panting. Her face was red with exertion and her legs wobbly from being jarred on the rocks. Yoichi was no better off, the energy required to carry two people across the treacherous terrain was more than he had planned for that day.

Unceremoniously, Yoichi placed Mitsuba in Shinoa's arms, knowing that they couldn't stay here for long. Shinoa clung to the body like a lifeline, clinging on and squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. In the end, she failed and they fell whether she wished them or not.

Yoichi hoisted the body of the man whom he loved and placed his hand on Shinoa's shoulder. She had tears unshed in her eyes as she wordlessly looked up at him, holding his gaze for only a second before she looked back down to the girl in her arms hesitating a second before she nodded, they needed to get out of here.

Together, they stood and looked back, Guren and Shinya were still in the room, but they were nowhere to be seen and could make it out on their own. Turning away from the tomb that held his friend, he lifted Shinoa's arm and together they ran away, holding their loved ones close as they ran through the city, dodging the vampires around corners and keeping as silent as they could.

Left, right, right, left, straight, left, and another right. On and on the maze went, Shinoa leading the way until they came upon a gaping hole in the wall. The tension in her shoulders fading as she sprinted through the opening, Yoichi close behind her.

They ran until their legs ached and then ran even farther, their breath grating against their throats, puffing into existence as condensation and they still ran on. It had been sunny when they left, but now all they could see was the night sky and their feet grew number as they ran.

They ran until they couldn't run anymore, when they stumbled over their own two feet more often than not. They ran until they collapsed and still they tried to run. Their legs burned and their throat was raw, there wasn't a part of them that didn't ache when they could no longer stand, and their tears had been hidden away by the cover of trees that they had pulled themselves to.

It was there that they slept, the bodies of their friends close by and protected by the magic of their demons to ward off the creatures of the night.

They slept through the day and awoke at twilight, no words were spoken but they both knew what they needed to do. They gathered sticks and branches, brambles and leaves, the mountain of detritus grew and grew until they could no longer see by the moon. With as much care as they could, they lifted the bodies of their fallen friends onto the makeshift pyre and they lit it using the sparks of two rocks.

It was not a funeral that they believed Kimizuki and Mitsuba deserved, but it was private, intimate, and somber. It was then that they finally let their emotions show, they cried until there were no tears left in their bodies, they were choked with emotions and they cried on, screams of anguish that could no longer be heard filled the night and they howled like the wolves.

Shinya stared at Guren, waiting for the other to make a move. Guren's body was tense and drenched in sweat from what had just happened. His breathing was ragged and the area around his eyes was red and angry as if he had been crying. He had cuts all over his body where red leaked through the tears in his clothes.

It pained Shinya to see Guren in such obvious pain, but yet pretend that he was perfectly fine. Guren was just standing there, unmoving as if the world around him wasn't falling apart. Shinya started towards him, his characteristic smile somewhat forced, but he marched to the black haired man anyways.

"Hey! Guren! What do you say to getting out of here?" Shinya said, his carefree confidence evident in his voice as he walked up. However, as soon as the words were out of his mouth he stopped, Mahiru-no-yo pressed right to his throat. Shinya feared to breathe and swallow because it only pressed the blade closer to his airway.

"I would absolutely love to get out of this damned broken body," Guren spoke with his own voice, but the words coming out were not his. They were more sinister and darker despite sounding virtually the same. "Thank you for asking, Shinya, my dear. However, I believe that it cannot be arranged no matter what I wish."

Shinya felt his chest tighten as a black smoke unraveled from the sword, it was the same as when Guren unleashed his power on the students to see who could persevere against unadulterated power. Only this time, it was aimed at him, not an entire classroom full of kids, it was aimed at one person.

The smoke coiled around Shinya's feet, growing taller and taller as more and more smoke emanated off of the cursed weapon. Shinya knew he should move, he needed to move, but he couldn't force his muscles to obey, he couldn't force his body to acknowledge the danger to his well-being because this was, after all, Guren. The man that he had spent many a night in bed with. This was the man that he had given himself to, his heart and body unconditionally. There was no way that such a man could ever betray him like this.

But this wasn't Guren. This wasn't the man that had made him feel like he was the most beautiful man alive. This wasn't the man that could convey anything and everything he felt through the simple touching of two lips. This wasn't the man that he had stared at from his side of the bed after there from his side of the bed. This man was… he was cold.

The black mist coiled around him like some snake, that got tighter and tighter the more it constricted around him. As he looked closer, he could see the smoke dancing around Guren, forming mesmerizing designs. Guren hadn't moved since he had raised his sword, his face remained neutral with a little bit of a smirk on his lips.

"G-Guren…? What are you doing? Come on. Let's go home." Shinya tried one of his award-winning smiles that could put anyone at ease. The sword pressed further against his throat, breaking the skin ever so slightly.

"Oh, you poor, poor thing. Can't you realize? Guren isn't here anymore. It's only me now. So, how do you feel about the two people that you loved in one body?" Guren's face broke into a demented smile and the pressure on his throat released, but the shadows had reached his chest and by then, he knew there was no escape.

"Guren! Guren, can you hear me!" Shinya's voice was frantic, the smoke was steadily climbing and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. "Let him go, Mahiru. You had your chance and you destroyed it. Let me talk to him, Mahiru!"

The demon smiled once more, turning Guren's face into some garish representation of what he had been. The smoke was at Shinya's chin now and trying to work its way into his mouth, his nose, his eyes. He started coughing, the smoke burning on its way down his throat even when he tried to keep it closed.

"Guren, please you have to listen to me! Mahiru. This is Mahiru! I know you wouldn't do this to me… Guren. Guren… please" The smoke was beginning to overpower his senses, the room was getting blurry. He was beginning to sound like a broken record. "Guren… Guren… Guren, please… You… you wouldn't… Guren… Guren please…"

The strength left his body when he slumped into exhaustion and the demon stood over him. Look at that, Guren. Look what you just did to your love. Look at the betrayal on his face as I crush his life before you. Mahiru spoke in her mind. This is what happens to everyone that you will ever love. Mahiru raised her boot to crush the silver-haired man, but the serenity that was on his face stopped her before she could actually do it. She could feel Guren pounding away at the cage that she had trapped him in, and his anguish pounding against the force that she had put up.

She decided to take the path that would ultimately cause more suffering; she just walked away.

Shinya awoke to chains around his wrist, his ankles, and his waist. The cold metal completely trapped him as he looked at his surroundings.

He was in a cold, dark room that smelled strongly of blood and sweat, there was no other person in that room that he could feel, but he still knew there was going to be someone around just in case he somehow escaped.

He pulled at the chains that surrounded him, feeling them cut into his skin and muscle, cold and unmoving. The chains gave no ground to him whatsoever, they never moved except when they wanted to tighten around his wrists.

Suddenly the light flashed on and he could see where he was. He was back in the red room. But this time, he wasn't on the cross that he had been on before, he was on a cold metal slab, like one they would use for autopsies. As his eyes began to focus, he could see a lilac-haired man striding towards him, a clipboard in hand and a smile on his face.

"The Hyakuya orphanage." The vampire said, still smiling, his voice booming off the walls. "The Hyakuya project was to take children that had been abandoned by their parents and transform them into weapons. Children under the age of ten were commonly used for these purposes because they were the most impressionable. The project went on for years until they finally got close to their much-desired weapon when a virus swept through the world. Killing everyone over the age of thirteen. You know this story, do you not?"

Without waiting for a reply from Shinya, the vampire went on, "What the humans wanted was an abomination. They wanted something that could give and take life just like breathing, and the vampires have stopped the full monstrosity from being produced, but there are some that managed to slip through our net and now roam the Earth as somewhat normal people. My question now is, what would happen if we tried the experiments on an adult?"

The vampire had walked to the corner where it uncovered a small set of surgical utensils. "Would the body accept the treatments? Would it reject them fully and completely? Would it treat the experiment like a drug, something to get addicted to and attached to where if it goes without treatment for a while, the subject just explodes? These are all amazing and genuine questions don't you think? And the only way to answer questions is through testing."

A wide smile spread across the vampire's face as he said his next words. "Hello, my name is Ferid Báthory, and you are going to be the answer to all of my questions. Together, we are going to have so much fun."