Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Digimon 222: Dark Masquerade ❯ Plotting ( Chapter 4 )

Ice'is Blue does not own Digimon. She's quite content writing fanfiction for it and receiving no money for her efforts. ^_^ Additionally, White Fang is written by Jack London (not Jakku Rondon); and (although she'd be flattered if it was thought otherwise) Ice'is Blue cannot lay claim to The Arabian Nights either.



Author's Notes:

A whopping huge shout of thanks to everyone who reviewed and 'gently reminded' me! I've been dealing with a lot of RL issues over the past six months, but I'm doing well and so is the fic. It shouldn't be too long before Ch5 is posted, but, especially with me, 'soon' is a relative term. Thanks for your patience.

As always, reviews, questions, and constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated.

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D igimon 222: Dark Masquerade
by Ice'is Blue

Chapter 4: Plotting

The tune Taichi was humming sounded no further than the confines of his mask, but the spring in his step was clear for all to see. As the ravaged lunch cart rattled into place, he tongued the voice amplifier on long enough to give greetings and thanks to the cooking staff. The women and men in the kitchen, most of them freed slaves, paused in their tasks long enough to offer him a smile or wave. The action so ingrained in his nature, Taichi smiled back even though they weren't able to see.

To say he was in a good mood would be an understatement. Things were going better than he'd hoped. After their conversation in the corner, Yamato's moods had been much more stable, the shifts more predictable. Gone was the two-faced snarling/crying youth, and in his place was a man with a keen intellect and a dry sense of humor. They weren't solid friends -- that would take time -- but it seemed Yamato was truly enjoying his company.

For the three days since he'd moved Yamato to the new room, Taichi had spent all his free time with the blond. Sometimes it was just reading silently in the same room, but on other occasions, Yamato would talk to him about his current reading material, or ask him questions. The talks were cautious at first, Yamato hesitant of putting forth his opinion -- not, Taichi could tell, because the blond was a timid speaker, but because Yamato feared his disapproval... or perhaps his betrayal. The suspicion didn't sit well with Taichi, but Yamato could tell that Taichi wasn't disclosing the full truth, and though Taichi regretted that the doubts and secrets existed, the charade had to be continued for a little while longer.

During one of their talks, Taichi discovered Yamato's enjoyment of chess. He then brought in a set and when Yamato was tired of reading, their talks continued throughout the chess games. Taichi was nowhere near to Koushiro's skill, but he provided a respectable challenge to Yamato. And although it was Yamato who usually ended up winning, Taichi had won the last match and he'd taken great effort to annoy the blond with his gloating. It had gotten to the point where Yamato had snarled for a rematch and, daring a great deal, Taichi had patted him on the cheek and told him to wait patiently. Yamato had then snarled highly detailed directions on where the chess pieces could be held until the next game, but Taichi escaped unmolested and with Yamato rolling his eyes as he set the pieces away in a much less uncomfortable container. Taichi took the whole incident as a sign that their relationship was improving.

He noticed that the man never spoke about his father, though, or the life he'd left behind. The taboo topics made Taichi uneasy, but he soothed himself by recalling that the upcoming test would quell the rest of his doubts regarding Yamato's loyalties.

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Changing from Yagami's mask and clothing to the more comfortable jumpsuit took only moments and soon Taichi was keying in the code to Yamato's room.

"Lights!" he warned before flipping them on.

At the sight that greeted him, Taichi hastily tossed the clothes that were tucked beneath his arm into the corner. He took only one cautious step closer, not knowing what had caused the sudden change.

Yamato was huddled in the center of the cage, his eyes wide and slightly glazed. One of the weights was clenched in his hand while the other arm wrapped about his bare legs, holding them tight to his chest.

"Yamato?" He knew his face clearly showed his worry, but, all things considered, he had a right to be concerned. Playing the unfeeling bastard wouldn't help him any here, and he doubted Yamato was aware enough to appreciate the act. The man seemed to be barely breathing, skin deathly pale and dilated eyes unblinking against the sudden light. Something was very, very wrong.

Taichi started to move toward the cage, but then stopped, finally noticing a small lump on the floor that blocked his path.

Miko.

"So this is where you've been, kitty," he said, distracted from Yamato's condition by the solution to a mystery. He bent and scratched behind her ears. Waking, she slowly blinked her eyes open. Taichi frowned at her. "My sister's been very worried about you, Miko."

The cat began to purr and arched up into his touch as he stroked along her back.

"Stay here and I'll bring you back to her after I've figured out what's happened to Yamato."

Taichi had hoped that the second mention of his name would bring Yamato's attention back into focus, but the blond's only reaction was a seemingly involuntary shiver. Something had scared him... Miko? It boggled Taichi. His sister's cat was just so... cute. It had to be something else.

He made a snap decision, trusting his instincts that this wasn't a trap to incapacitate him, and keyed the override code into the cage.

Taichi knelt at Yamato's side, one arm around him, and started the task of prying the man's fingers from the weight. It was difficult, but at least the blond wasn't trying to swing the heavy piece of metal into his head. When he finally managed to pull the weight away, Yamato made no move to recapture it.

Instead, the man pressed himself back against Taichi's body.

"Did Yagami send it to me?" Yamato asked him in a strained whisper. His blue eyes widened even further. "Did you?"

Taichi frowned and shook his head, not really comprehending.

For a moment, Yamato sagged against him in relief, eyes closed, and the added contact made Taichi crave something far more pleasurable from the blond. But all too soon, the tension returned to the naked frame and Yamato pulled himself into a more defensive posture that somehow still allowed him to take shelter behind Taichi's encircling arm.

"Get it away from me," Yamato pleaded, his voice cracking as if he'd been screaming for a long period of time. "It's a monster."

Monster? Miko?

Taichi looked over to where the cat had finally roused herself and was batting at the tip of her own tail. The tail twitched. She pounced, then began spinning in circles, swiping wildly at her errant appendage as she bent her body nearly double to catch her prize. Taichi couldn't stop the small chuckle from escaping.

Yamato's face was caught in an expression of horror as he looked from Miko back to an amused Taichi. Taichi coughed, and clamped down on the smile. Perhaps Yamato just hadn't been exposed to domesticated animals... they were rare, after all. Or maybe he had fallen into some trouble with one of the mutant cats that were supposed to exist outside the fortress walls.

At any rate, he had some explaining to do.

He first had to deliver a harsh bite to his tongue, but finally he managed to fix Yamato with a serious and sympathetic expression. "That animal is called a cat, and she's my little sister's pet. I'm not sure how she got in here, probably through the slot in the bottom of the door, but she won't hurt you. Miko's quite gentle."

Yamato shifted, looking like he wanted to flee, but there was nowhere for him to go. He shook his head. "It bit me." He started trembling. "It was going to kill me."

"Where did she bite you?"

Yamato held up an arm. Taichi took it lightly in his hands and gave the soft pale skin a thorough inspection. He didn't see any marks, but he couldn't believe that Yamato would lie. Not about something so silly as this. "If she did bite you, it must not have been very hard. There's no wound," he said cautiously.

"The bite broke the skin, but it healed up."

That was definitely odd. He'd always thought of the cat as a good judge of character. The only person she'd ever taken a swipe at had been one of the newly-freed slaves who had gotten a little too interested in his baby sister. But to say that a bite had healed in the space of a few hours...

He had last seen Yamato when he delivered lunch, and there clearly wasn't a cat in the room then. Taichi was fairly certain Yamato wasn't trying to pull something over on him, although he admittedly couldn't even begin to imagine what Yamato might possibly gain from lying. He sighed.

"Do you want me to get her away from you?" Taichi asked.

He expected Yamato to say something sarcastic, along the lines of "No... 'Get it away from me!' was really just code for 'Bring her closer!'" But Yamato worried him further by merely nodding.

With a reassuring rub against Yamato's shoulders, Taichi stood, then exited the cage.

He scooped up Miko with one hand, the other moving to support her back haunches. "See? She's gentle. I can hold her and you can pet her through the bars, if you like," Taichi offered, taking one step forward, cat extended. Yamato scooted backwards so quickly that there was a painful-sounding clang as he collided with the back row of cage bars.

Taichi winced in sympathy. "Okay, so maybe not. Sorry for asking."

Yamato scowled. "Just get it out of here."

Having the good grace not to smile at the color that tinged Yamato's cheeks, Taichi carried Miko down the corridors and into the elevator and keyed the number for Hikari's floor. Seeing his sister's face light up at the return of her cat more than made up for not taking the extra time to tease Yamato. Miko seemed equally overjoyed with the reunion, squirming directly from Taichi's arms and into Hikari's waiting ones.

Hikari instantly began petting Miko and, if her strokes were somewhat frantic, it was only because Miko was pressing herself so strongly into the caress. Taichi chuckled. It looked like Yamato wasn't the only one who had a difficult time with his un-solitary captivity.

"Thank you," Hikari whispered, the sound barely reaching him, for her face was pressed into Miko's fur. She looked up and smiled. "Where did you find her?"

"That's the odd thing, actually. She was in Yamato's room."

It took her a moment before she grasped the significance. Taichi had ended up telling his sister about his new guest during breakfast a few days ago, especially since it was fairly certain that Yamato would be staying with them. But it was also because she had been getting more and more upset at his absences and her temporary banishment from his floor. She took the news well, better than Koushiro, really. Although, to give Koushiro some credit, she hadn't seen him upset about torturing the little boy. Taichi had skipped over that portion of the story. Thinking of it now made him distinctly uncomfortable.

But it wasn't like he'd been dropping Yamato's name everywhere, so it still took her a few seconds to register Miko's hiding spot.

"How did you get in there?" she asked the cat cradled in her arms.

Miko meowed twice.

"I've got no clue," Taichi answered for her. "I'm fairly certain she wasn't in the elevator with me. So, through the heating ducts, maybe?" he hazarded. "But that would mean she'd been crawling uphill." He shook his head. "At any rate, I should be getting back. Yamato wasn't as delighted to see her as you are, to say the least." He kissed her on the cheek. "See you later."

Hikari took one of Miko's paws and waved goodbye with it. "Thank you!" she called again.

It was unbelievable what that sweet little cat put up with for Hikari's sake. When Hikari had been younger and still interested in playing with dolls, Miko had even tolerated Hikari putting dresses on her. The only thing she'd deliberately squirmed out of had been a lacy bonnet tied over her ears.

Taichi saw Miko lick Hikari's nose before the door was finally shut. He had no clue how Yamato could be afraid.

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"The cat's back with my sister and I doubt she'll be let out of her sight anytime in the near future," he announced upon returning to Yamato's room. "Are you ready to come out now?"

The blush returned, lighter this time, and Yamato stood. After a moment of indecision, he crossed over to the mattress and took a seat.

There was a moment where they each just regarded the other, but finally Yamato spoke.

His face was carefully blank. "So, you have a little sister? What's she like?"

Taichi took a moment to process his words. As long as he didn't say her name, things should be safe enough. It was a good sign that Yamato was showing interest. "She's six years younger than me, and every inch a self-determined teenager." He smiled at the recollection of her tricking him into letting her help with the slaves. "She wants so badly to know what life is like outside the fortress walls, but it's not safe for her out there."

"So you keep your own sister a prisoner too."

Had he really said that? Taichi thought it over. "No," he said finally, "She's better off here. And so are you."

Anger flashed in frost-blue eyes. As the glare continued, Taichi feared Yamato had gone cold again -- a resurrection of his cruel and haughty 'Lord Yamato' persona. But eventually the gaze softened and instead of an angry outburst, there was a quietly offered, yet abrupt, change of topic.

"Did you know that your sister's cat grows?"

The question stumped Taichi. "Uh... don't most living creatures grow?"

"No, not like that," Yamato said, frowning at Taichi when the brunet moved to sit next to him, but not moving away. "Like... big-enough-to-fill-the-room type of growing."

It was impossible. "Are you sure you didn't have a dream, Yamato?"

Yamato rubbed the arm that he'd said Miko had bitten, his face both troubled and uncertain. "Not entirely, but..."

Taichi smiled in relief and ruffled Yamato's hair. That was certainly a better explanation. If Miko was anything other than a cat of above-average intelligence, surely they would have known by now.

He shifted from energetically disordering the strands to gently smoothing them back into place. "Just relax."

"That should be illegal," his captive muttered softly, and without malice.

"What," Taichi teased, "Giving you the most pleasure you've felt in years?"

Yamato snorted. "No, moron. Touching my hair."

"Oh, come on. You know you like it."

The blond made a small sound of disagreement, but Taichi ignored it, knowing that between it and the low moan that shortly followed, the latter sound was a more accurate reflection of Yamato's true feelings. Yamato melted against him as the soothing touch continued and even though over the past three days Yamato had become increasingly more pleasant as time passed, Taichi had never seen the blond look so relaxed. He felt a swell of pride at being able to soothe away Yamato's worries over Miko. But now something was bothering him. He knew Koushiro would lecture him if he didn't attempt to find out what aroused Yamato's interest.

"Why did you ask?" Taichi asked softly, not wanting to ruin the moment, but needing to know the answer. "Why did you ask what my sister is like?" he clarified belatedly when the blond turned to give him a look of confusion.

After stiffening briefly, Yamato took his time in responding. "Because I have a little brother," he spoke finally.

Taichi's eyes widened. "I didn't know that."

Yamato looked at him oddly, then shrugged. "How could you?"

Taichi felt like kicking himself. "I'm sorry." Maybe, Yamato would remember. "It's just that you remind me so much of a friend I used to have a long time ago. We only met once back then, but it feels like I've known him forever. My father had brought me to his house and in the course of the afternoon, something his father said upset him and he ran away to hide. We had a pretty nice chat in..." his voice trailed off.

Yamato didn't look bored, but Taichi could tell that he was trying not to look bored.

He still didn't remember.

"Sorry," he murmured, the ache in his chest returning. "Never mind." He fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment, but finally found his voice. "What's he like?"

"Hm? My brother?" Yamato shrugged. "Don't know... Never met him."

There was a long pause, during which Taichi was very careful not to draw Yamato's attention. It was as if Yamato had forgotten he was there listening, and was instead musing aloud to himself.

"It's strange," the blond continued. "I don't even know what he looks like, but I've found myself wondering how he's doing, if he's happy." He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort of disbelief. "It feels like I care for him, and I don't even know his name."

Smile soft and eyes sad, Taichi asked, "Is it really so strange for you to love someone, Yamato?"

"I don't love him." The denial came quick and certain.

Taichi wisely backed off and asked instead, "Where is he now?"

Blue eyes narrowed in thought. "With my father, I think."

Yamato slouched backwards, his face growing melancholy. With the blond's attention elsewhere, Taichi let his eyes roam over the soft flesh in one last hedonistic ogle. Then he stood and retrieved the pile of clothing he'd brought with him.

"Here," he said, tossing them over. "This should cheer you up."

Yamato fingered the clothing in his lap. "When am I supposed to wear these?"

"Whenever you want, unless you get orders otherwise."

"I thought..." The sentence broke off and Yamato looked up at him with the slightest flicker of hope in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

The question was frustratingly simple and difficult at the same time. Yamato deserved as much of the truth as he could give him.

"I want you to be comfortable here. Comfortable with me."

Yamato blinked up at him. "But I am."

Taichi wasn't sure which of them was more surprised and as his mind supplied nothing brilliant to say, a silence grew.

He'd always hoped that Yamato wasn't overly suffering from his imprisonment. He'd thought that they'd been having fun together over the past three days. But it was another matter entirely to have Yamato actually admit to feeling the same bond growing between them that Taichi did. He watched his new-found friend work through an internal struggle.

Initially, Yamato had looked like he'd wanted to take the words back, but his expression now was pensive.

"Why does my comfort matter to you?"

Asked point-blank, the question was unavoidable. There wasn't any sense in pretending otherwise. "I care about you," Taichi said quietly.

Yamato's reaction was not instantaneous, but his mood shifted from one of contemplation to something lighter and more playful as he stared at Taichi.

When Yamato didn't begin dressing immediately, Taichi grinned reassuringly at him. "Go ahead."

From the mattress, Yamato arched one eyebrow. "Aren't you going to turn around?"

Sensing the other man would be disappointed if he agreed, his grin stayed. "No. It's a little late for you to be getting modest now."

"Figures. Pervert." But a spark of mischief flashed in his blue eyes. Yamato pulled on the loose-fitting pants, then got to his feet in a fluid motion. He stood, hips kicked to one side, the button-up shirt grasped in one hand and hanging over his shoulder.

Taichi struggled to keep a straight face. Yamato was posing.

"Well?" the blond asked, the barest hint of anger beneath the expectation in his voice. He waved a hand around at the bare walls. "There aren't any mirrors here. How do I look?" In the moment that it took for Taichi to gather his thoughts, a smug grin overtook Yamato's features. "Judging from the drool, I'd say the outfit is to your liking, Lord Taichi."

Taichi suppressed a growl. He wasn't drooling. Salivating, maybe... but the smirking man shouldn't be able to tell that. Yamato seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in flustering him. And, although he hated to admit it, Taichi couldn't deny being affected by the blond. To think, after having an unclothed Yamato in his sight for all this time, a partially clothed one was creating this kind of reaction...

Taichi swallowed. "Generally, one comments on an outfit when it is worn in its entirety," he said, his voice coming out hoarse.

With a self-satisfied chuckle, Yamato slid the shirt on, then looked up at Taichi. The musical sound faded, leaving a grin, which softened into a genuine smile. "Better?"

You're beautiful.

Taichi couldn't get the thought out of his mind, and he stepped closer to the blond.

Yamato tensed, the smile dropping, and Taichi felt himself being weighed and judged by cerulean eyes. The heavy gaze lingered until finally the blond head nodded and Yamato's body relaxed into an easy stillness. "Thank you." The words were offered softly and with the faintest of blushes.

Had he said that last thought aloud? Oh... He had.

"Not just for the compliment," Yamato continued, closing the distance between them. "Or the clothes, but for everything. You've been patient with me..." He was silent for a moment, struggling with the words. "You were right. I was scared at first, but..." Blue eyes locked with Taichi's brown. "I trust you."

Their lips brushed once, then again, ever so hesitantly, before meeting with an equally matched strength.

Taichi let his fingers wander up Yamato's back then tangled them in soft golden strands, making it impossible for the blue-eyed man to withdraw from the kiss. His mind took a while to realize the danger in forcing Yamato to do anything at this point. When he tried to pull away, one solid arm snaking around his waist kept him from completely breaking contact, and instead, pulled their two bodies closer together. The blond wanted him. Kissing Yamato, and having the blond kiss back, was better than anything Taichi had ever imagined.

Yamato's other arm tugged on Taichi's and deposited the hand firmly on the blond's butt. Not one to turn down such a rare gift, nor daring to deny the gentle command, Taichi squeezed through the material of the pants, letting his fingers knead the rounded globe. The action resulted in a pleased moan from Yamato that was soon echoed in his own throat as the man in his arms arched closer and their arousals brushed.

Taichi's memories blurred from that point until a shrill beeping caused the two to break apart. The brunet took a good look at their positioning. Yamato's shirt was gone and somehow he had wound up with his back on the mattress with Taichi braced over him and one knee planted between his legs. The man beneath Taichi was tense with apprehension, his eyes awash with embarrassment, a large dollop of frustration, and the tiniest hint of fear.

He glanced at his watch. It was Koushiro's code. Slowly, his hormone-charged brain remembered the plan. He wanted to turn to the camera and glare at his friend for the interruption, but doing so would only scare Yamato further.

As it was... "We're being watched, aren't we," the blond said, glancing around the room nervously. The camera installed in a corner by the door was too small to be detected, but it made Taichi wish he'd planned this gift of clothing to take place in the other, unsurveillanced room. But the mood was already broken, no help in moaning over it now.

Taichi captured the man's attention by stroking the side of his face and offering a parting kiss. "Don't worry," he said, pulling away with genuine reluctance. "It was just a reminder that I have to go. I've got a meeting. I won't be back for at least another couple of hours." He flashed a self-assured grin. "Try not to miss me too much."

Yamato rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. Taichi was pleased to note the darker emotions, the guilt and worry, were gone. "Sure," Yamato promised. "See you. You still owe me a rematch for that last game of chess."

Taichi left the room, being especially cautious to close the door only slightly. He had a good feeling about this. Yamato was turning out to be the sweet, playful man Taichi had always known he'd be. If Yamato was able to forgive him for the deception -- and here, Taichi's spirits dampened, for it was a pretty big 'if' -- by this time tomorrow, he and Yamato could be living happily ever after.

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"Acknowledged." Hunter adjusted the headset hooked on his ear so that it was no longer transmitting messages and motioned for Greene to do the same. It wouldn't do for the commander of the guards to overhear this conversation and have their covers blown. He turned to his fellow mercenary, expression serious. "Okay. This is it. They just gave the order to clear the area at the base of the stairwell. Take point. We move now."

Rather than moving into position, his long-time partner questioned, "Do you really think they're letting him out?"

It was a valid question, but Hunter shrugged. "You know best, you've been here longer." Damn Lord Shin for selling you to Yagami in order to manipulate us into taking this job. "We'd better hope, though. He's our best shot at getting Yagami."

The other man frowned at that. He'd developed a strange loyalty for the mask-wearing Lord during his stay, probably because his life here was easier than it had been serving Lord Shin. Even so, he was planning on returning with Hunter after the mission was complete.

Knowing he'd catch hell later otherwise, Hunter rested a hand on the man's shoulder. "I understand why you don't like it, Greene, but I still have my orders to bring him in. The boss is getting impatient."

Considering Lord Shin was about to murder his youngest brother out of no better reason than amusement, Hunter wanted to stay on the man's good side.

The younger man didn't say anything.

"I can count on you in this, right?" He gave the shoulder a little shake. It seemed to help.

Verdant eyes shifted to the right, then back at Hunter. In others, the action might precede a lie, but in his teammate it signaled only discomfort.

"Yeah," Greene said softly. "I'll back you up. But be nice to him as long as you can, eh? He's not as bad as everyone out there thinks."

"I'll do what I can, but we're still delivering him. Other things are at stake." Hunter didn't ask if Greene understood. That much was immaterial. Greene would do as ordered. Of course, he'd probably also cast disapproving eyes at him if Yagami suffered even a scratch while in their custody. Hunter tamped down an irrational surge of jealousy.

"Hey, Hunter? Do you really think this guy's Lord Yamato?"

"Yagami's got somebody up there. Everyone knows it. But the identity... we'll just have to see. It has to be someone important if it's kept this hush-hush. Regardless, it doesn't matter who the person is. Lord Shin's only interest lies in obtaining Lord Yagami. If the person being held captive is willing to work with us, we can be home by the week's end."

Greene looked suitably chastised by the reminder, but he still didn't seem focused on their mission. "Hunter?"

"What?" he asked tiredly.

"You've been here a while, now. Do you really want to go back? It's not so bad, working for Yagami, ya'know?"

"You going soft on me, Greene?" The younger man looked away and Hunter sighed. "He's patient, given us this long... but he's still got the others. They'll suffer if we don't return, or if we fail."

He didn't bother naming names. Greene could hardly forget their true current employer. On the other hand... maybe that was the problem. Greene had been here nearly three years now, and Hunter only two. In terms of Yagami's fortress, Greene was the senior, but beneath the veneer of their assumed personas, Hunter was the leader of a larger group and he was responsible for their welfare. It was an obligation that extended to Greene.

When Lord Shin had kidnaped and sold Greene to Yagami after Hunter had turned down his offer of the job, he'd bowed beneath Shin's blackmail and reluctantly accepted. It had taken almost a year to set him up as a successful plant.

Hunter could've written the young man off as a loss and taken his group elsewhere. Looking now at the man's sad eyes, he knew he should've. It hadn't been wrong, exactly, to come after him. But if Greene wanted to stay, it would all have been for nothing. He snorted in amusement. Well, maybe not all for nothing. Greene was an excellent lay -- still tight and eager to please after all these months. Yet, if he really wanted to stay here...

"When Yagami is subdued, I'll return with him alone," he said firmly. "I'll tell them you were killed in the attempt."

Greene shook his head slowly. "I want to stay with you. If you don't want to stay here, then I won't either."

"I don't love you, you know." It sounded harsh, Hunter knew, but it had to be said.

Greene just nodded. "I know. Even so," he said quietly and turned, starting down the hall. "We should be getting into place."

Hunter followed, trailing a few steps behind and giving the man some space.

Greene slowed as they reached their assigned area. "Hunter?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

Hunter glared at his back. The problem with Greene was that he never knew when to keep his mouth shut. His talking was probably what had drawn Lord Shin's attention to him in the first place.

A little while later: "Hunter?" Green began again softly, disrupting what was supposed to be a silent patrol.

"What?" he growled softly, irritation slipping into his usually even voice.

Greene winced, but pushed on. "Thanks for coming after me," he mumbled. "I never said --"

"Don't mention it," Hunter said gruffly. He knew Greene had more undercover experience than this and was annoyed that his partner was choosing to act like such a rookie. "There's been enough chatter. You'd better leave the rest of the talking to me."

They nodded to each other and swiftly moved into position, awaiting Yagami's captive.

We'd better get paid damn well for this.

************************************

The moment Taichi's footsteps were out of his range of hearing, Yamato allowed himself to stare at the slightly ajar door. He didn't dare move toward it right away, but the temptation was great. Instead, he scratched an itch at the back of his neck.

After going for so long without covering, the clothes were an unfamiliar weight against his body. Yamato doubted Lord Yagami would ever permit him clothes, so they had to be a gift from Taichi. After the scare last night from the monster Taichi claimed was a cat, it had been a relief this morning knowing that they were on good terms.

The past three days... Taichi had almost been like a friend instead of a jailer. He was certain Taichi was spending more time with him than necessary. There was no doubting the man's attraction, either, and Yamato couldn't deny his own building interest. He wasn't sure where that left him, falling in love with the man who had near-total control over his life, but he supposed there could be worse situations. He might not be around here much longer.

Leaving the door open seemed to be a deliberate gift, too. Yamato had seen it in Taichi's eyes. If he actually managed to escape, he'd end up missing the brunet. Or maybe Taichi was planning on joining him? No, Taichi had made it clear he would be in a meeting for several hours -- plenty of time to escape. If he made it out, Yamato resolved to remember him for his kindness.

Despite Yamato's few lingering suspicions, Taichi seemed genuinely nice. He had a sense of humor as corrupt as Yamato's own. He was intelligent, well-read, and loved playing chess with Yamato, even though the Lord usually lost. (It was simply pure luck Yamato hadn't won this last time.) And already, he'd begun planning out his attack strategy for their next match. But that next match might never happen.

He eyed the door again and decided to stand next to it. An ear pressed against it yielded no voices or other noises.

For all the fun he was having reading and playing games during his imprisonment, he was still being held as a slave by a cruel Lord. He knew Taichi was keeping something from him and while the man's feelings seemed real, Yamato wondered when Yagami would order him to do something more nasty. It would come down to a question of loyalty: master or friend. Although Taichi unarguably possessed misguided intentions, Yamato doubted he'd win out in the brunet's mind. Which was why he wasn't entirely certain about the open door.

Perhaps Taichi was finally helping him out. The door was open, he had clothes, and there was nothing holding him to this room. It could be his only chance to escape... yet there were no other assurances (other than his faith and trust in Taichi) that it was not some kind of trap, or test... but...

Yamato looked up when Taichi entered the room and carefully tucked a finger between the pages of the crumbling book he was reading. Sometimes, when Taichi turned up like this the Lord would select a volume of his own to quietly read, or challenge him to a game of chess... but this time Taichi sank down onto Yamato's mattress without disturbing either the game board or the bookshelves.

"What are you reading?" the brunet inquired.

From his seat in the chair, Yamato smiled down at him. Taichi, for some odd reason, seemed to also love discussing whatever Yamato was reading and asking his opinions. If logic didn't suggest otherwise, Yamato would have guessed that Taichi was starved for conversation. But the man was much too social and handsome to ever lack company. Or maybe... maybe his association with Yagami kept others away? If it did, they were fools.

"White Fang, by um..." he checked the cover, "Jakku Rondon." The name wasn't Japanese, so it must've been a translation from somewhere.

"How is it?"

Yamato shrugged. He hadn't gotten very far. "Good, I guess. The wolves are pretty cool. Makes me want to see one."

Taichi smiled. "I might be able to find you a picture of one," he offered.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter much."

Taichi fixed him with a look that said he knew Yamato was bluffing. "Tell me something," he commanded gently. "Your favorite part."

Yamato sighed. This, too, wasn't so unusual of a request. The first time Taichi'd asked and Yamato had tried arguing, a ten minute fight ensued that eventually devolved into "Yes!" / "No!" / "YES!" / "NO!" -- and in the end Taichi had his way and listened with a smirk as Yamato snarled out each word.

With that memory fresh in his mind, Yamato didn't even bother putting up a fight. Even choosing a favorite passage wasn't difficult. It was the first one he'd read. The words had grabbed him, making him keep reading when what he'd really intended was to skim the first few pages, then move on to the next book or sheaf of papers.

He removed his finger from between the pages and flipped to the first page of writing. He'd finish the book some other day. Yamato glanced at Taichi again, trying to judge if the man would insist on making him read aloud like before. The Lord's brown eyes, though warm with humor, showed no signs of backing down. Whatever. He wasn't a synthvoice program. Taichi could see the words for himself.

The Lord caught his hand as Yamato tried to give him the book. Before he could start, Taichi asked, "Read to me?"

Because it had been a request and not a demand, Yamato let the other off with a roll of the eyes, cleared his throat, and began from the very beginning. "Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness. There was a hint in it of laughter, but of a laughter more terrible than any sadness -- a laughter that was mirthless as the smile of the sphinx, a laughter cold as the frost and partaking of the grimness of infallibility. It was the masterful and incommunicable wisdom of eternity laughing at the futility of life and the effort of life."

There was more, of course, but that was enough. In the course of the paragraph, the smile had faded from Taichi's face and was replaced with solemn unease.

"That's your favorite part?" Taichi asked quietly.

Yamato glared. "Are you going to argue with me about what I like and don't like now?" He was angry, unreasonably so. "I don't have to defend my preferences to you."

"No," Taichi agreed, looking away. "You don't. But tell me something." He looked back. "Do you really believe that? Is this all futile?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. It seems that way."

"I've read these books as well, Yamato. I know that our planet has been polluted and raped beyond recognition. So much of the life that existed is gone... but of what remains... Are you without hope?"

"Look around you, Taichi," Yamato said, seeing the Lord's sadness and biting back a sharper comment. "This room's pretty and all, but it's my prison. What have you given me to hope for? My life is ruined. Pretty much everyone's lives are ruined."

Taichi crawled over to him. Kneeling, the brunet was still below Yamato's eye-level from where he sat.

"You trust me, though. Isn't that a kind of hope?"

Yamato snorted softly. "No, all that makes me is an idiot."

Taichi reached out and touched him on the cheek. "I don't think you're an idiot. I know that where you're from, the winters are harsh. But here in the south, they're more mild. It's warmer here. With the proper attention, we can even get some things to grow in the soil. I'll show you the gardens someday. I think you'll like them."

"You'd let me outside? Out of these rooms?" He wasn't sure outside was a good place to be, but the suggestion shocked him nonetheless.

Taichi's hand tilted his chin down so that their eyes met evenly. "You deserve more than this, Yamato. You deserve to be free. I know this, but you have to be patient. It'll be just a little bit longer. I promise everything will be all right for you."

Yesterday. Taichi had promised him yesterday.

Well, he wanted me to hope... So here's hoping...

Yamato opened the door and peered into the empty corridor.

Taichi wouldn't do anything to harm him -- it was the only thing Yamato was certain of. Taichi was gentle, would prevent Yamato from being hurt if he could. Yamato had to trust that.

Knowing from his time spent cleaning that nothing lay to the right, he turned toward the direction Taichi had left and moved quickly to the next intersection, his bare feet noiseless on the carpet. The area was clear, so he continued moving forward along the corridors.

The place was eerily silent. No footsteps. No voices. Completely quiet. It was as if the entire place was deserted.

Fearful that the absent people were merely all in their rooms, he decided that he wouldn't try to open any of the closed doors that lined the hall at regular intervals. As quiet as the place was, he doubted they were occupied, but he didn't want to take the chance. Besides, if these rooms were suites like his cell had been, then there must be some sort of entrance to the floor around here somewhere.

Eventually, one of the corridors led him to a landing. Rather than a button to call the elevator, there was a numbered keypad.

Great. Just my luck. No wonder Taichi was careless with the door. There's no way off of this floor.

He slammed his hand into the wall above the keypad, but he didn't put much force behind it. It was a futile action -- just like his idea of escaping this place.

It's not like I have a place to go to, anyway.

But just returning to his 'cell' felt too much like giving up. He could just imagine Taichi watching him as he returned like a docile pet.

That's exactly the way he treats me. Like a damned pet!

He felt his determination returning.

He was out of his cell. The halls that he had seen so far were empty and held no points of interest, but there were still areas that he hadn't explored. The corridor running away from the elevators was a good enough place as any to start.

The decision was a good one. Close to the landing with the elevator, he encountered a stairwell leading down. The door was unlocked but he doubted that a fortress controlled by Yagami would be lacking in security. He had to move swiftly. Even if Taichi didn't know he was missing, someone else might notice an unauthorized person wandering around.

Yamato had descended about thirty floors, in his estimation, when finally there was a door at the next switch-back point. It, too, was unlocked and he went on instinct, picking one of the three directions open to him.

The clothing rubbed against his skin and the hair on his arms prickled. Not a single person. No slaves, no Lords, not even a damn cleaning 'bot. Something was wrong. The desire to be safe in his room was overwhelming.

This was a test, and he had failed miserably. He should have stayed in his room like a good little pet.

But then an unused workstation caught his eye. If he could manage to call up a map of the fortress and figure out where he was at...

Though he was nervously checking over his shoulder every thirty seconds or so, he jumped in his seat at the feel of an iron-strong hand gripping his arm.

"Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Did you lose your way? Whaddya think, partner? Have we found ourselves an escaping slave?"

The men were armed, dressed in some sort of uniform that marked them as guards.

He gave him his best winning smile. "Actually, I am lost. I'm a guest of Lord Taichi's and I thought it would be entertaining to go out and see the city. But I'm afraid I got a little turned around, and now I can't find my way to the transport bay."

"Lord Taichi? If you're going to lie, man, at least attempt to make it convincing. The lad's been dead for several years."

Dead? Right. Yagami's son's name was Taichi and that's the boy who's dead. But surely, they've heard of the other Taichi. Maybe...

The man spoke and broke that train of thought. "You wouldn't be trying to sneak out of the fortress, now would you?"

"Of course not," Yamato lied easily. "I wouldn't have asked for help if I were." But it was clear that neither man believed him.

He wasn't sure what gave him away as a slave. The clothes Taichi had given him were well-crafted and of good quality. Though unadorned, the cut was elegant. It was the sort of outfit Yamato had chosen for himself when he was able to lounge during the day. There were no marks on his skin, no collar about his neck to signify his status...

Pain blossomed in his foot. The younger man had stepped on it.

"Your slave seems to have forgotten to assist you into your shoes, Lord," he said mockingly. "Perhaps you should punish him?"

The intent behind the words was frightening enough, but it was the taller of the two who won Yamato's attention. His eyes were cool flint with a lavender tinge, glinting with keen intelligence.

"You do know what Yagami does to his runaway slaves, don't you? He's very protective of what he feels is his."

Yamato stayed quiet, not seeing the merit in digging himself into a bigger hole.

"Tell you what: we'll do you a favor. Even if we hadn't found you, you wouldn't have gotten very far. But if you are Yagami's slave, we'd be willing to offer you a very special deal."

They knew what he was, so it was useless to pretend otherwise. "Why should I help you?"

"We want to capture him. In the chaos that would follow, you could escape. Or, we could take you with us. I'm sure our Lord would be very pleased to have such a valuable ally as Lord Yamato."

The hope that flared in him was idiotic, but he went with it anyway. "You know who I am?"

The older man gave him a secretive smile. "Your disappearance from your father's graces was noted by some of the other Lords... those not yet in power, but who will be coming to it soon. My Lord is one such man."

Another Lord. He could be moving from bad to worse, but anything was worth a shot. "What do I have to do?"

"It's simple. Just give us a signal when you're in the Lord's presence. That's all we need. He's become very reclusive since the death of his son... the firepower that we can command to extract him from this fortress is only useful if we have his immediate position."

"Why not just kill him?" Yamato couldn't see any reason in keeping the man alive when he could be just as easily killed.

"My Lord is interested in some information he believes Yagami to possess."

"And you'll take me with you?" If the men promised easily that he could come and would not be harmed, Yamato knew that they shouldn't be considered trustworthy... But the older man was seemingly honest with him.

"We'll try to take you along during the attack, but we're not going to come looking for you. You're either there, or you'll have to find your own way back."

"And if you do take me, what then?" Another test.

"You will be brought to our Lord and if you can provide him with information, either about Yagami or your father, he might consider letting you go free. If not," he shrugged. "It's your choice."

Right. Sure. There was every chance that the men's Lord was just as cruel as Yagami. Then again... Yagami was supposed to be the worst. "What assurance can you give me that I'll be treated well?"

The man swept his eyes down Yamato's form, and right then Yamato wished for a thick, long coat to hide behind. While the older man didn't give off a creepy lustful vibe, there was interest in the gaze. "My Lord is not interested in men. That should be the deciding factor for you right there. You've heard what Yagami does to people. Innocent little girls and boys, strong-hearted men and women... he breaks them all and they disappear, never to be seen again. Every once and a while, you can spot one, a shriveled empty husk of a person. But you... I bet he'd kill you once he was through, just to see how pretty you would look covered in your own blood."

Yamato fought the urge to vomit. "Now you're just trying to scare me."

"Just stating the rumors, Lord," the shorter one replied with a grim smile. Then green eyes shifted to the man's wrist, then up to the partner. "Time," he murmured, barely loud enough for Yamato to hear.

"So, are you in?" the older man asked. "Think carefully. If you're planning on leading us into a trap, don't. Just because we're picking him up alive doesn't mean we won't be packing any weapons. If we find out you've betrayed us, we'll make what Yagami will do to you look like a visit to a pleasure spa."

He wanted out. If Taichi wouldn't let him go free, he'd have to find his own way out. And who knew? Maybe Taichi had arranged for these men to find him. These past three days with Taichi had almost been fun. Even though the Lord was supposed to be his trainer, Taichi had never done anything unpleasant, or asked Yamato to do anything that felt overly uncomfortable. Yet... whatever honeymoon period he was being given to adjust would have to end. Soon Taichi would have to train him for real. And then... Yamato shivered. He didn't yearn for home, but he wanted to be away. Even if that meant putting his fate in the hands of another Lord. No one could be worse than Yagami.

"I'll do it. I'd prefer it if you killed Yagami, though."

"Sorry, Lord's orders," the younger man said. He pulled out a small device, thin and about the size of Yamato's thumbnail. "You'll be needing this then. Tuck it between your gum and cheek. Once you're in Yagami's presence and you're going to be there for more than twenty minutes, bite down on it three times to activate the signal. We'll need at least that long to mobilize our attack."

"Oh, and kid? You'll be wanting to stand away from the exterior walls, if you can. We wouldn't want you getting hurt."

The younger guard snagged the other's sleeve. "Hunter, it's time. We need --"

"HEY! You two aren't supposed to be in this area." Two more guards appeared, dressed in the same navy blue and orange uniforms. The guard who had spoken looked at Yamato. "And you're not supposed to be here at all."

Shit.

Before Yamato could come up with a decent reply, Hunter drew his weapon and fired at the two newcomers. Caught unaware, both men went down. Yamato ran and checked one for a pulse. He found none. What kind of killers had he sided with?

"Don't feel too badly," the younger man said. "If they'd reported you talking to us, you could have been the one who ended up dead."

The one called Hunter gave him a dark grin. "Welcome to the conspiracy, kid."

"Night." The word filtered through his brain in a trickle as something sharp pricked the side of his arm. Yamato couldn't remember if he sank to his knees or fell.

************************************

Koushiro sucked air in slowly in the hope that it would help calm him. Unfortunately, the urge to strangle the lovesick idiot that was his friend remained. He cut Taichi off in the middle of yet another sigh of pleasure about the fact that Yamato trusted him and said brusquely, "Well, it's grand things are going well for you, but there are still some details to which you need to attend."

At the blank look Taichi gave him, Koushiro forced a smile and decided to take one thing at a time.

"For instance," he elaborated, catching that distracted gaze, "I'm going to be here in the control room, monitoring surveillance. But who's going to bring Yamato back to his room?"

Taichi frowned. "I thought we had this planned already. The doctor's supposed to dress up as the Slavemaster and take him back."

Do not strangle best friend. Suck in breath, count to ten, exhale.

"The doctor left you a message. There's been an accident at one of the project sites and he can't take time out to play dress-up."

That news, at least, sobered Taichi a little.

"Were there many deaths?"

"No, no one died, yet. But the injuries are severe. A malfunction on one of the drills caused an explosion and what few people weren't battered by the cave-in suffered the same burns from hot steam as the rest."

Taichi nodded thoughtfully. "Offer the doctor the use of the guards with medical training. We can afford to spare them tonight... At any rate, we should start the recall now so Yamato has free run of the place. How is he doing?"

Koushiro checked the monitor. "He's still in there. But he's definitely eyeing the door, so I think he's noticed it already."

He sent the message for the guards to clear the areas Yamato might wander to. The guards then had orders to remove themselves as well... except for one special set. One pair of their most trusted guards had preexisting orders to seek out Yamato and conduct a test of loyalty by offering him a way to contact his father.

Returning his attention to the monitor, he saw Yamato move hesitantly about the room, then slip out the door.

"And there he goes," Taichi said unnecessarily. It was nervous chatter. "Koushiro... this is it, right? If he doesn't try contacting anyone, then it's okay to trust him?" He was asking for reassurance that things would go well.

Normally, Koushiro would have trouble deciphering the verbal cues in order to come up with an appropriate response. But by now, he was so familiar with Taichi's self-absorbed angst, it was easy to supply the appropriate non-depressing line.

"That's the plan," the genius told him, not voicing what the alternative would be if Yamato actually did contact someone. Taichi wouldn't let them plan that far ahead, so certain was he of Yamato's innocence. Koushiro had come up with a few ideas, spawned out of irritation during those times when Taichi had sealed himself in Yamato's room, the two talking about some book or playing with the chess set that Taichi had brought in.

Meanwhile, Koushiro was left to placate the frazzled members of the Council and attend to matters far more mundane than security and electronics. He now knew, for one revolting example, the precise reason why the sewer systems were flushed regularly and the exact unpleasantness that occurred when they were not.

Only slightly more disgusting were his responsibilities as a fill-in for Taichi as the "lucky" final judge of the Forty-Second Annual Yagami Okyoudango Festival. Although, of the hundreds of entries, he'd only had to taste and vote on the twenty-five 'best' -- 'best' was a subjective term. The dessert (a nasty concoction of red bean paste, natto, cayenne pepper, and flakes of salty seaweed, all bundled in mochi and topped with cherry sauce) was a regional specialty, but only about five percent of the population enjoyed it. Koushiro was intensely proud he'd not thrown up during the festival (afterwards was another story). The memory of it still made him queasy.

Taichi, of course, loved the dish and severely missed his freedom to order it from the kitchens. It had been decided long ago that if Lord Yagami ordered a dessert he publicly hated, suspicion would be cast upon his identity. The cooks, touchingly, refused to make it out of mourning for Taichi. So, Taichi had always looked forward to the festival. Until, apparently, this last time when he never showed up.

Koushiro took Taichi's forgetfulness as a sign of how serious matters were between him and Yamato. It wasn't bad that Taichi was finally interested in someone, it was the degree to which his attention dwindled in all other matters.

Normally, Taichi would be furious with himself when he found out he'd missed the so-called desserts. But this time, Koushiro wasn't so sure. Yamato's presence had changed Taichi's priorities and if the past weeks were any measure, Koushiro and the rest of the Yagami lands were at the bottom of the list.

And Koushiro was left with the happy task of keeping things running smoothly.

He'd talked with his parents and they were helping where they could, but the Council was harder to placate. The fortress didn't run itself, and the Yagami common-folk who came with requests to see their Lord had to be dealt with through other means. And through it all, each meeting, public appearance, and emergency supervision had taken time away from his own experiments and projects.

Taichi owed him... big time.

And he knew, someday, when Taichi's head was working as well as it ever did, his friend would realize all that he'd been doing and thank him. But until then, he had to grit his teeth and bear the added responsibility.

Koushiro was jolted out of his contemplative funk when several of the main surveillance cameras fritzed, then showed only snow. He tapped a few keys, trying to isolate the problem and determine its source. The answer wasn't good.

Taichi, showing a divine amount of patience, let him work in silence for a few minutes but finally asked the obligatory, "What's going on?"

"Someone who has had a lot of time to plan things is interfering with our cameras."

In the bank of monitors, at least eight were fuzzed over... including those monitoring the stairwell leading down from Taichi's floor -- Yamato's last known location.

Koushiro turned away from the screens, face grim. "I know I don't need to remind you that this is what we were worried about. We need to find out where Yamato is."

He watched Taichi's expression change from anxious lover to hard-set leader. Finally, some sense! "Well, we know he was in the stairwell," Taichi said, thinking aloud. "And the only exits are the ground floor, mid-fortress, and back the way he came... Do you think he'll go all the way down to the bottom?"

"It is possible. But I have much tighter security on the base floor. Likewise, there won't be a problem if he decides to return to his room. But, as per your request, he'll have mostly free-reign if he exits mid-fortress. That sector is entirely cleared except for two of our best guards. If they don't find him on that floor, they will proceed to the lowest one and search for him there."

All while he had been talking, Koushiro had been calling up various subroutines in an effort to discover the source of the disturbance. Nothing. Whoever they were, they were good and had known exactly what he'd be looking for. He didn't vent his frustration on the keyboard -- that might have damaged the equipment -- but he did slam his hands down upon the desk that supported it. Several times.

"What makes me worried," he continued, "Is that the hacked cameras are positioned in the stairwell, on the middle exit, and in the halls and rooms surrounding the exit."

Taichi nodded. "Someone thinks he'll be heading there, then. Notify the guards in that area of the situation. I'll go down and scope it out."

Koushiro pinned Taichi with a hard look and finished relaying the orders over the headset. "I've notified the guards, but you're not going down there. They could be after you, Taichi. Something odd is going on and you have to keep yourself protected."

"Well, what if they're after you?" Taichi retorted.

Koushiro was unimpressed with the creative thinking and refused to respond with anything other than a roll of his eyes.

"Maybe they're tired of having their attacks always foiled by a computer genius and you're the one they want out of the way," Taichi barreled on. "Can you prove that I'm the only target? That I'm the only person in danger?"

No, Koushiro couldn't.

Logic dictated that the leader of a group would be the one under attack, but in a long history of military coups, a body could be hindered in more ways than just by losing its head.

"No," he admitted, "There's no concrete proof that the coded messages are coordinating an attack on you. But, it makes the most sense. You have to be cautious."

"Koushiro, I want to go and see for myself what's going on. This is my fortress. I'm cooped up in it as it is. I'm not going to suddenly limit myself to a single room just because it's easier to defend."

Taichi must have seen it in his face that Koushiro was still not won over to his side, and he pulled out his trump card.

"I could order you to let me go check."

Koushiro ground his teeth in frustration. Anything that had to do with Yamato somehow interfered with his friend's mental reasoning and sense of self-preservation. And pulling rank was just a dirty move.

"This conversation is quickly going nowhere," he informed the lovesick idiot. "I won't follow an order that's not in your best interests, and in a situation like this one, you will not be safe. You could be walking into a trap."

"When would they have had time to plan? If Yama--"

"They could have developed some new form of technology that I don't recognize. I may be intelligent, Taichi, but I don't know everything."

Koushiro swore to take an embarrassing revenge on Taichi for his loud bark of laughter. Acting more like a juvenile and less like the man Koushiro knew he could be, Taichi continued laughing.

"That's a first," his so-called friend said between gasping chuckles. "You don't have something recording in here, do you? I'd like to keep it if you do. I could win so many bets... Hey, don't look like that. I'd split the winnings with you 70/30." His eyebrows waggled in a most nauseating fashion.

That's it, you stupid idiot. Go ahead. Get yourself killed.

"Fine," he said in his most scathing tone. He rummaged in a neatly organized bin of electronic equipment and threw the headset he found there to Taichi, trusting the man to catch the delicate piece of plastic and circuitry.

"Put that on. It runs on a more secure channel than the ones worn by the guards. You'll be in constant communication with me. And... you should take a team of guards with you."

Taichi shook his head. "I'll move faster alone. I'll take a stunner with me."

If he dies, the fool deserves it, Koushiro thought irrationally. He ran his fingers through unruly carrot-colored curls. Dealing with Taichi was giving him a headache.

"Whatever. Just promise me that if you do see that there's trouble, you won't just go charging in. Promise to go for backup."

Taichi sighed and Koushiro could tell that he was thinking it over... a good thing in and of itself... but it was taking too long for him to actually give his word.

"Taichi," Koushiro warned. "This careless disregard for your own safety is incredibly foolish and I expected better from you. Your father would have expected better, as well." Taichi wasn't the only one with a trump card to play.

Taichi gave him an angry glare, but it eventually softened as his brain finally processed a portion of the wisdom Koushiro was trying to instill in him.

"All right," he promised. "I'll be careful and I'll call for backup if it looks like there's trouble."

Koushiro leaned back in his chair and let Taichi find his own way out. He was tired from this battle of wills. But before too much time had passed, he struggled upright and monitored Taichi's progress as far as the functioning cameras allowed.

"Okay," he spoke into the matching headset. "You're in the area I don't have a visual on, so be damn sure you tell me what's going on."

"Gotcha." The reply was good-natured, but deliberately soft. Koushiro was pleased. At least Taichi was attempting some small degree of stealth by lowering the volume of his voice. "This area looks entirely deserted. Just like we'd planned."

"Well, I doubt the wires just disconnected or disrupted themselves," Koushiro replied acidly. "So keep a sharp eye out."

A soft grunt was his only answer. They maintained radio silence then, but the headset was tuned fine enough so that Koushiro could still catch whispers of Taichi's breaths. Then, there was particularly loud breath. The sound of quick, heavy footsteps.

"Shit," Taichi swore. "Taran and Chutsu are dead."

Taran and Chutsu. Dead. The news of his friends' deaths seeped in slowly. As mere words transformed into meaning, his numbness transformed into rage.

That... murdering... whore...

"What about your precious Yamato?" Koushiro found himself saying much more calmly than he thought possible.

"He's here," Taichi's voice answered. "Unconscious."

Koushiro counted ten slow breaths.

"You know this proves you can't trust him."

"I know." Taichi's voice sounded weak, hollow.

Why does being right have to feel so bad?

************************************

The knots in the laces of the harem-style pants dissolved quickly under her nimble fingers and the garment was exchanged for soft cotton trousers that were noticeably designed more for the wearer's comfort than for their sex appeal.

Mimi slid the faded silk camisole down over her head and pulled out the hair trapped against her neck. Long, thick strands fanned out like a pink veil around her shoulders and the scent of lilies wafted out with the motion. The scent of the flower seemed to be a comfort to Lord Jyou, so Mimi saw that her bath each day was fragranced with the oil from the pink blossoms. Although she rarely noticed women using that particular scent, there was no short supply of it. Truthfully, Mimi was not overly fond of lilies, but it was not her opinion that mattered. As long as her Lord provided the bath oil, she would use it and in doing so, she would have yet another way of pleasing him.

The well-worn bedroom wear was also part of her Lord's desire.

After three nights of showing him the new outfits she had acquired, Lord Jyou had requested a 'quiet evening' -- his code that all he wanted from her on the coming night was cuddling. Overall, quiet evenings outnumbered the times he sought his pleasure in her. And in the beginning, such behavior had distressed her.

************************************

When she had first been gifted to Lord Jyou, after the initial relief over not being given to his father or older brothers, she had worried greatly that he was displeased with her. He summoned her to his bed only reluctantly. And while the techniques she had been trained in made him writhe and moan uncontrollably, there was a weight and strain in his eyes that never diminished even in his throes of passion. Still, he never voiced any displeasure. In fact, he was never harsh with her, nor did he ever speak sharply to her, or even raise his voice.

Mimi spent two whole seasons wondering each day if, that day, her kind master, with his gentle and slightly hesitant voice, would inform her that she was being sold. But eventually, one summer's evening, she discovered the truth. Her master was living under the crazed impression that she did not enjoy her duties. He had ranted, in a fit of passion, ebony eyes blazing, that she should have been taught to read and do figures, should have been given a choice of professions, and that she should have been allowed to fall in love and choose the person she wanted to be joined with.

Mimi had laughed at the last. Even among the free-born women, as far as she knew, marrying for love was rarely practiced. But Lord Jyou was always speaking old, outdated things, odd sounding expressions, or sometimes entirely incomprehensible statements, that he had gleaned out of ancient texts. His favorite saying for when something was impossible was, 'Pigs will fly first!' She had little knowledge of pigs and so he had shown her a picture of one and patiently explained that the pork that they ate on occasion came from pigs. But that discovery had come later.

That summer night, he had looked hurt by her laughter. The sorrow etched into his face made his cheeks appear sunken and hollow. And before she could reassure him that she was happy with him, he seemed to be very aged, as if the gentlest of breezes might set him drifting away. But then she had placed her head down upon his lap and breathed in the musty scent that always clung to him whenever he spent time with his precious books. She told him of her happiness, of her gratitude, of her love. She showed him passion that night.

The following morning, her lessons began -- not in the seductive arts, for she was already highly trained in that respect, but in reading, mathematics, and history. The last two, she studied only briefly. Although history was one of Lord Jyou's two main delights, medicine being the other, Mimi could not bring herself to care for events so far removed from her life. Nor had she any skill at committing to memory the names of places, people, or important dates or events. The more he tried to teach her, the more muddled she became. The day she burst into tears at his mention of another session of instruction was the day the history lessons stopped.

So, too, with the lessons in figuring. After much effort, he finally pronounced her adequate in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. But when he began to speak of numbers smaller than one, or using symbols that were not numbers in order to find other numbers, she had broken down into tears yet again and he had let her stop with a fond smile, a pat on the shoulder, and his soft voice telling her not to worry because he would take care of her.

In truth, the most useful information she got out of the history and mathematics lessons was the knowledge that she could control him with her tears. It was powerful knowledge, indeed, and to this point she had not abused it.

Oddly, though, she had better luck with reading and writing. She mastered the two basic sets of characters in less than a month and thereafter, she learned several kanji each day. In a way that the dates and numbers had not, the flowing stylized ideographs made sense in her mind.

Lord Jyou had given her some poetry to copy for practice. Her first attempt, which she had scribbled only hastily in order to get the strokes flowing correctly, he had seized up and proclaimed it to be a work of art. Embarrassingly enough, it hung on his bedroom wall in a frame of precious wood. Calligraphy was now her hobby, and with her permission and at the request those who had seen her scribblings, Lord Jyou sold her efforts as artwork. Shodou, as Lord Jyou informed her, used to be the past-time of noble women. He always laughed with sad eyes whenever he mentioned the irony of it now being done by slaves.

As she learned, he gave her things to read. Sometimes they were items from his own collections, sometimes they were things he thought she might enjoy. She read them dutifully and engaged in conversation with Lord Jyou about them, but she did so for his pleasure only. He meant well, and put obvious thought into his gifts, but so much of what she was given dealt with ways of life that were entirely foreign -- females ordering men about, a history of women doctors, even a silly love romance about a queen torn between her husband and his best warrior.

None of it spoke to her place in life: an ignorant girl who would die or be very miserable without the kindness of her master. Lord Jyou didn't understand that she would never be able to take charge and make good decisions. She was a slave, and her lot in life was to be subservient and do exactly as he commanded. He praised her, every so often, for what he termed 'independent thinking'. Yet for all his compliments of her, she always felt like she was disappointing him somehow. If she knew what he wanted from her, she would have done her best in trying to mold herself into that image. But if what he really wanted was to teach her how to behave like an aggressive Lord, he could sooner teach a pig to fly.

Quickly, though, she did become skilled in reading and there was one set of books she did enjoy. Less than a year ago, on a day he had claimed was her twentieth birthday, Lord Jyou had given her a set of books so old they were nearly dust and an accompanying datapad of the text. They were collectively known as The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night and before beginning her reading, Mimi feared that they would be as dull and obsolete as everything else her Lord had graciously given her to improve her mind with. But instead, she found herself drawn to the woman called Scheherazade. The woman was a skilled seductress, with the only thing keeping the blade from her neck being the stories with which she entertained her Lord. Altogether, Mimi found their positions not so dissimilar. For all that her Lord reassured her otherwise, she knew he would keep her only as long as she pleased him. And rather than be sent to another, she would prefer death.

The stories Scheherazade told were odd, fanciful tales, filled with strange places and animals... even magical creatures known as djinn, who were terrifyingly powerful and could grant the wishes of their masters. But, as in the life she knew, those who had the power would kill or trick into death those who sought to yoke their strength. Mimi refused to let her mind dwell on the danger. Her master had promised that he would care for her, and he had kept that promise. She knew one day he would have to break it, sending her away to serve another master, but for now she let herself be happy and tried to please him as best she could.

Her life had changed much in the four years that she had served Lord Jyou. She knew she was much better off than most of the girls who had been trained with her. Many were dead, maimed, or suffering through their days and screaming through their nights. It was not often that she heard the fate of her fellow slaves, but if one knew where and when to listen, like in the bathing pools early in the morning, one could hear talk that otherwise would be silenced.

Three and a half years had passed since that summer night. Since then, she and her master had reached many subtle agreements, like the practical sleepwear and her reading lessons, that often went against tradition... Lord Jyou said he was training her as his assistant. It was unworthy of her, but, in that, she thought him to be a fool. Inside these rooms, he could pretend that she was anything he wanted and she would try her hardest to be what he wanted her to be. Outside, Lord Kidou was master, and he would not be one to tolerate her presence aside from being a sexual accessory. But she loved Lord Jyou. He was her master and she would do as he commanded, even if it meant her death.

************************************

Mimi hummed a child's lullaby as she turned down the covers on the bed and lit the scattered candles, softening the severity of the pristinely neat room. Her motions were unhurried, for Lord Jyou's attention had once more been captured by manuals and medical texts. She knew from long experience that he would not stir from his desk until she came to woo him to bed for a few hours' sleep.

Lord Jyou loved the study of human physiology as much, if not more, than his love of history. Mimi found the medical knowledge more useful than historical, as it could be put to pleasurable use in the bedroom. But no matter what her Lord was studying, she knew that he would sooner spend the entire night in his study, slumped over his desk, than voluntarily coming to sleep in an actual bed.

As her Lord had always cared and provided for her since she was presented to him, she felt honored to care for him by seeing that he got decent amounts of sleep. Finishing her preparations, Mimi was pleased with this night's effort to lure him to bed. She was giving the room one last surveying glance when a soft knock sounded at the main door. Her Lord barely ever registered the chime, let alone a quiet knock, so Mimi herself went to answer the door. The caller had probably not used the chime in case they were already in bed and not wishing to be disturbed.

Lord Shin's personal servant was standing in the hallway, his body alert and unslouched despite the late hour.

"I've a personal message for Lord Jyou." He paused, then looked her up and down, taking in the scruffy pants and the faded top with a disapproving frown. "I can see that the little boy has ordered you ready for bed, so you can wait there while I deliver the message."

He made to step away, then turned back smirking. "You know, I've been curious. Is it that you're so talented in bed that you don't need to step into something less comfortable to please him, or is he really just as dickless as they claim?" The words were spoken with soft malice and there was a warning glint in his eye advising that her answer had better be just as softly spoken.

Mimi's cheeks flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, the latter being worse than the former. She was used to being stared at, but it was horrible the way her master was treated by his peers and even the servants and slaves of his brothers. If they couldn't find a way to mock him to his face, they often asked her difficult questions, like the one just now, in an effort to dishonor him. And as a pleasure slave, there was little she could do to avoid the comments.

Her voice stumbled over the words. "I-it is to be a quiet evening tonight," she offered, hoping that the man would let her go, get on with his own business, and leave quickly.

The manservant's stomach rumbled in silent laughter and she hung her head further in shame. Again, she'd said the wrong thing and caused more disgrace to her master. Her eyes darted in the direction of her Lord's study. Perhaps she should let him know he had company. Usually, she would deal with any slaves delivering trays unless Lord Jyou had specified that he wished to speak to them. But this man was no slave... though a servant, he was Lord Shin's most trusted man.

"I-I'll..." her voice quavered.

He caught her by the arm, not quite tight enough to bruise -- they were all much more careful after that last incident. He turned her in the direction of the bedroom.

"Go along now, in you go. I don't think this will take long at all."

She shivered despite the warmth of the room. His smile was evil. Yet her conditioning kicked in. "Yes, sir. I will do your bidding," she responded meekly. Eyes downcast, she did as she was told, but in defiance, she left the bedroom door open. If they talked loud enough, she just might be able to hear what was being said. Mimi felt herself blushing at the thought. It was one of her worst faults. She was an 'incurable gossip,' or so Lord Jyou told her frequently, usually after she had related the information she gathered at the baths.

The man made no sound as he moved through the rooms and all she heard was a low thump to signal Lord Jyou's noticing of the man. It was most likely a book dropping from his hands in surprise. Her Lord tended to scare easily.

Regretfully, any words said were spoken too softly to be heard. She had no true knowledge of why Lord Shin's man would be here so late in the evening. The smile he had given her... it had seemed like his message made him happy... which usually meant that Lord Jyou would soon be unhappy.

Mimi crept to the door and held her breath, straining her ears to catch the faintest wisp of sound. Papers were being shuffled, but still no voices. Surely, they would be talking by now. Although she knew her Lord would be severely displeased if he caught her sneaking in on private conversations again, she followed her curiosity and left the bedroom behind. Her bare feet were noiseless as they moved across the carpet. A few inches more, and she'd be able to see around the corner into her master's study. A loud crash brought her to a halt just before the doorway.

Still no voices.

After tucking her hair into the shirt so that it couldn't swing out and betray her presence, she angled her face past the frame so that only a portion of an eye peeked out at the scene.

The sight she witnessed took her breath away. The man was using a folded length of silk to strangle Lord Jyou! For precious moments as her Lord's face was flushed a dark purple from lack of oxygen, she was silent. Then her breath returned in staccato half-breaths, her limbs trembling twice as much as her lungs. There was nobody she could call. No one was there to come to his defense, no one would be able to get there in time, and as she felt her blood chill, she realized the great likelihood that all of the important people in the fortress already knew about the attack. Certainly Lord Shin, and most likely Lord Kidou himself as well. The father encouraged sibling rivalry and had refused to name an heir so that his twin sons would fight for the honor. The loss of his seemingly worthless youngest son would mean little to the man.

But maybe Master's other brother, Lord Shun...

He had helped her gather decorations for the rooms earlier. Like the others, he still mercilessly teased his younger brother, but there was always less spite with him. Yet his rooms were so far away... even if she could reach them, there wouldn't be enough time. Lord Jyou was nearly...

No... Master... No...

His body was released to fall limply on his desk, the ends of the silk still trailing from his neck like a winter scarf.

"Weakling," the man pronounced. Then he turned from his victim. The disgust on his face turned to a wide smile when he saw her. "You really should have stayed in the bedroom and waited for me to come kill you."

!!!

She tried to turn and run, but she found herself backing away from him into a wall as he advanced.

"It's a shame he taught you so much. It's spoiled you from your true purpose in life. Even when relaxing, a true pleasure slave would never allow herself to wear something as unappealing as these old rags." From a pocket, he drew a kitchen knife, like one of the ones that were sent along with dinner. "It's such a shame that all those ideas in your head caused you to strangle your own master in his sleep, then kill yourself for your crime."

He was standing in front of her now, the knife extended toward her face. Her knees went weak, then gave way and she slithered to the ground, legs spread. He remained standing, but bent down so close that his rough beard scratched her face. The knife was pressed to her neck, holding her motionless as his free hand ran from the inside of her knee to poke at the cloth that covered a place no one but Lord Jyou had touched in years. She whimpered and writhed to get away. He seemed to enjoy her struggles.

"A whore to the end. It figures you'd want to die that way." The hand that had been prodding at her moved up to maul her breast, but after an eternity he finally left off with one last brutal caress. "Sorry to disappoint, girlie, but I don't like to sully myself with unclean things."

Lord Jyou...

He was dead, and soon she would join him, the blame for both their ends placed on her bare shoulders. She was smacked a heavy blow across the head, the resulting movement causing the knife to dig into her throat a little.

"But I think artfully sprawled on your bed would be a better place for your suicide, so come along like a good little dead girl." He leaned closer, the knife still at her throat, his other hand reaching behind her back to pick her up. That he was being so careless with his own safety showed how little he feared her.

Truly, she was little threat. Her head ached fiercely and her vision blurred if she moved her eyes too quickly. Through her failing senses, though, she saw Lord Jyou's face over the corner of the man's shoulder.

One blow, placed with a doctor's precision, later... her Lord was tugging the larger man's body away from hers. The silk, though loosened, was still wrapped about his neck. He offered her a hand.

"Can you stand?" he asked hoarsely.

She thought she could, and gave a shaky nod. He helped her to her feet and once she was standing, she flung herself into his arms, unable to keep back her large, gulping sobs. There, she was able to relax a bit, listening to his breathing. It was fast and heavy because of his sudden exertion, but he was breathing and she was too happy for words to see him alive.

An arm wrapped around her for support, then he tilted her head back and ran gentle fingers against her neck. Slate blue eyes searched hers and she found it wasn't only the blow to the head that left her slightly dazed.

"You aren't hurt anywhere else?"

She managed to shake her head 'no' without setting off a fresh wave of dizziness.

"I'm going to let you go now," he warned. "We have to leave here. This place isn't safe." He looked her over from top to bottom. "Put on something warm and darkly colored." He frowned, already beginning to search through his papers and stacks of datapads. "Wear your heaviest pair of slippers. I'm not sure where we'll end up."

She went at a stumbling run to obey his command. A last minute thought had her packing up the expensive jewels she wore to official dinners in a fold of cloth.

"Here," she said, offering the bundle to him. "The jewelry you gave me. We can use it for money if you have trouble using your father's credit."

Lord Jyou smiled at her encouragingly and ran an affectionate hand across her cheek. "That's a good idea, Mimi. Thank you." He glanced about the room. "I don't suppose we have a knapsack around here, do we?"

She went and retrieved her Lord's battered medical kit from where it rested against a bookcase in the corner. She'd seen Lord Jyou working with it and knew that while it was well-stocked, there was enough room in it to fit some smaller items.

"We could put our things in here," she volunteered.

His brow wrinkled. "It's not too heavy for you? I'll need my hands free and we'll have to move quickly."

She wouldn't be weak. He wasn't leaving her to be executed. If her Lord was honoring her by taking her with him in his flight, she would not fail him.

"I can manage it, my Lord."

He looked at her with uncertainty, then his eyes darted yearningly at the case. "It would be nice to have it along."

She could tell that he was already preparing himself to do without the kit. "I can carry it. I know how precious it is to you."

"It's just an object, Mimi," he said, stroking her cheek again.

"Please, let me be of service, Lord Jyou?"

He held her close and breathed deeply into her hair. "All right," he conceded, finally pulling away. "Put the jewelry in there... and this." He took a wrapped package from inside his shirt and placed it into her hands. From the weight and feel, it contained datapads and a sheaf of papers. "They'll be safer with you, I suppose."

Knowing that he wouldn't answer any questions now, Mimi nodded, then looked around, trying to think of anything else they might need. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously. The body she had crossed over to re-enter the study had been still a few moments ago, but now the muscles in the man's hand were subtly flexing open and closed. He was waking up!

"Lord, what are you going to do with him?"

Her master looked over to where his attacker lay, and his face filled with sorrow. He crossed around the desk to a hidden safe box that opened with a loud, unoiled creak. He stood with a stun gun in his hand and fired two blasts in fatal short succession. The first blast stunned, the second killed. The twitching stopped.

"We're lucky he was ordered to make it look like you had killed me. If he came after me with one of these, I'd be dead. The fools think I don't keep one of these hidden in here."

"I'm sorry," she told him, remembering that it was she who had let the murderer in unannounced.

He stroked her hair. "It's all right. I'm safe and you're safe." He shook his head. "I knew they were planning something, but I didn't think..." He sighed. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

"Where will we go? Will your father...?"

His grimace cut her off. "No. If he's not directly behind this, I'm sure he's supporting my brother's actions somehow. We'll hide for a while, then try to sneak out in a transport." His expression changed, as if he were remembering something. "Do we have any food stashed away in here?"

He looked at her hopefully, probably remembering times when he had asked her to send for a snack and she had appeared with a treat in far less time than it would have taken for a slave to be sent up from the kitchens. Unfortunately, she had made up the last snack for him several days ago and she'd not been down to the storage rooms since. She shook her head, hating herself for her incompetence as his face fell. He caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.

"I know my family thinks I'm soft and weak, but I'll protect you. We'll get through this somehow." He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. "Ready? Let's go."

There was another man stationed outside the door. He was easier to get rid of than their first attacker, probably because he wasn't expecting the other man to fail, but their luck ended there. Barring her more intense training sessions, the next twelve hours -- spent running and hiding, killing and sneaking -- were the worst hours in her life.

************************************

Yamato woke up in his old room. The first thing he did was check that the transmitter was still secreted in his cheek. Finding it still there, he heaved a sigh and wondered what to do with it. He could keep it there -- the disc was thin enough to rest in the pocket next to his gum without causing any obstruction, but it might be better to hide it for the time being. His options were few in this room and he finally settled for nudging it into the crack between the baseplate and the carpet in the far corner of the room.

Once the transmitter was hidden, Yamato relaxed into the bare mattress. With the room empty, there wasn't anything to do but stare into oblivion. The lights were off and the beacon-like glow of the environmental control panel was also absent. While one part of him wondered who had brought him to his first room, another part hoped that it had been Taichi. Though, if it had been Taichi, was he disappointed Yamato had not made the best of the chance he had been given to escape? Or...

His thoughts turned dark. Had the whole thing been a test, one he had failed? The longer time stretched, the more he believed the latter explanation. They were letting him suffer from his own mental tortures. Although, if he was to be punished, Yamato doubted Yagami would stop at sending him to his room to think about what he'd done wrong.

His worrying was exhausting and it was hours later as he lightly dozed that he finally heard footsteps in the hall. When the person entered the room, Yamato knew without opening his eyes that it was Taichi. The gait as he crossed the room to stand by the bed, though not light, was soft and sure. Taichi's own unique scent was strong in the air, as if he'd recently gone through a heavy workout. As a final clue, there was the lack of sound. Taichi was waiting for him to speak, for him to explain. Anyone else would have been yelling or inflicting violence by now.

"It was an accident, wasn't it, the door being left open," he said, speaking the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind earlier. "And I screwed up." He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see the emotions on Taichi's face. He didn't want to see the disappointment. If he looked up, it would make what was about to happen next all the more difficult to take. He had taken a chance and had screwed up. Now he would be punished. "Do what you have to do," he said, his voice scarcely louder than a whisper.

"All right," Taichi's voice replied with equal softness, confirming Yamato's other senses and adding to his worry over what was to come.

Shivers went down his spine. Taichi didn't sound angry... but Masaharu never had either before he'd decided to administer a punishment. Yamato felt the man's weight settle next to him on the mattress -- close enough to feel his warmth. But it wasn't close enough. Yamato found himself wanting Taichi's embrace, his reassurance that everything would be all right. The minuscule gap between them signaled so much.

If it had been a test, Taichi should have received unpleasant orders from Yagami after the failed escape attempt. But would he follow his orders or would he go easy? Unable to stop himself, Yamato dared a look at Taichi's face -- no anger, no sadness, no disappointment, nor regret -- just the same easy smile he'd been wearing over the past few days. Though, there was a bit more tension around his eyes than normal. Taichi was holding something back; but in his quick peek, Yamato didn't get the feeling it was too terrible.

Maybe he isn't here to punish me, after all.

Allowing himself to hope the other man also felt a bond growing between them, Yamato turned on the mattress so that he was facing the Lord. Once situated, he directed another brief glance at Taichi. "So, am I in trouble?"

Strong arms wrapped around his torso and he was pulled to Taichi's chest even as the other shifted backwards to take support from the wall. One arm stayed curled around his body, while the other raised to stroke his hair. Yamato put up no resistance, but Taichi's iron-cored gentleness made him quiver.

"Shhhh," the brunet calmed him, continuing the petting. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax."

The sincerity and affection coloring the words invited Yamato to burrow into Taichi's offered warmth. Yamato's head tucked beneath Taichi's chin and the Lord's arms wrapped around Yamato to cement the embrace.

With his nose pressed closely into the fabric of Taichi's uniform, it was no secret the man had been exercising recently.

Exercising... or having sex...

Yamato wondered if Taichi had to serve in his master's bed. Did Yagami force his protégé, or was it one more concession that Taichi made in payment for his tutelage?

Yamato turned so that he could see the side of Taichi's neck. There were no bites, bruises, or other possessive marks -- just perfectly smooth caramel-colored skin. He let his head rest on Taichi's shoulder and after several deep inhalations, he could rule out the possibility of Taichi's having had sex. There were traces of salt and sweat, but no musk of bedroom activities. For reasons that were better left unexamined, the information made him happy and he finally let himself enjoy the moment.

They lay there, breathing quietly in unison, Taichi continuing to let his hands roam free. The more attuned to Taichi's body that Yamato became, however, the more he sensed a deeply buried tension in the other. Something definitely wasn't right. Yamato tried to pull back so he could see Taichi's face, but Taichi held him tighter and he ended up speaking into the man's shoulder, the words muffled but understandable.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Yamato asked.

"What could be wrong?" Taichi asked a little too mildly.

Yamato tried to pull away again and couldn't. Suddenly, Taichi's embrace wasn't so comforting.

"I-I... I'm not sure." He stroked the fabric-covered muscles of Taichi's arm, trying to coax them into opening, yet those muscles were now rigid. "You don't seem quite yourself. I should..." He tried to pull away a third time, but Taichi kept his grip. Though he struggled fiercely, Yamato couldn't escape. "Let. Me. Go."

Being pinned so effectively made him angry, but before he could resort to raising his voice, Taichi set him at arm's length and looked him in the eye.

"What happened, Yamato?" the Lord asked quietly, holding him firmly in place.

Yamato made a few more token struggles, then subsided. "What do you mean?"

Taichi's jaw clenched and his eyes hardened to brown stone. The fingers gripping Yamato's arms were just short of bruising and the tension Yamato had felt beneath Taichi's surface was now manifesting as anger.

Masaharu's temper had always been dangerous, but it was predictable in its own way. Taichi's quiet fury was intense and unrelenting. The hopes Yamato had entertained about Taichi letting him go free weakened and crumbled to dust. Still, if Yamato could understand what had brought about this display of anger, then maybe he could find a way to soften it.

Taichi jerked him uncomfortably closer and answered his unasked question. "Two of my best men are dead."

His men? Taichi's men? Was this proof that his 'escape' really was a test?

"You mean Lord Yagami's men, don't you?" Taichi's stern look remained. "So, leaving the door open was a test after all."

"Test or not, two men are dead," the other responded sharply. "Do you even care?" Taichi's eyes searched his and Yamato stared back. After a moment, the man snorted, apparently not liking what he found. "Probably not. I hadn't thought you'd be like this, but I guess it's not so surprising."

Yamato would put up with a lot, but he didn't like the disgust in Taichi's expression. The two men had been guards. If they'd done their duty properly, they would still be alive. And anyway, early death was in the job description for fortress guards. "They died. So what? They were guards," he tossed back, then repeated the rest of his thoughts aloud.

Taichi's fury built and his face darkened further, full-blown rage held back by withering control. From the twitching of his arms, it appeared the Lord was only barely keeping himself from shaking Yamato. "I don't know how it is where you were raised, but here, we make what family we can out of the survivors around us. Every life is precious. Those men were doing their duty to protect the people of this fortress. And instead of celebrating with them, the people who considered them closer than true kin will have to mourn their loss. Death just doesn't affect the deceased party, Yamato."

Yamato shifted uncomfortably. Of course they had lives, were something more than two hired guns. It was just... there was nothing he could do about it now. They were already dead and he'd been knocked unconscious a short while after they had been killed. It hadn't been his fault and he didn't know why Taichi was taking it so personally. There was nothing he could do to change the present, so why the lecture?

"Does human life mean so little to you?" Taichi demanded.

"Of course not." He wasn't so jaded yet, he was just practical about what he could do and what he could not. Here, he was a prisoner and had even less power than before. "It's not that. I just..." Caught between anger, frustration, and guilt, he hung his head. What else could he say? He moved again to get free and Taichi let him go at last. On the mattress, he let his head fall back and hit the wall, his eyes closed against Taichi's disappointment.

Things were so different from this morning when he'd been content in thinking Taichi was helping him escape. But now, whatever soft spot he had made in Taichi's heart was shrinking. He could see it in Taichi's eyes. Worst of all, there was still nothing he could say to make it better... Or maybe... Taichi was just looking for an apology? Could it be so simple?

"Taichi, I'm sorry they were killed. I thought you were letting me go. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

Taichi shifted closer and tipped Yamato's chin in his direction with a finger. Yamato didn't fight him, but he refused to meet the brown eyes.

"Look at me," the order came.

He kept his eyes closed, but soon came a touch that tucked mussed hair behind an ear, then ran down to stroke his neck, massaging the flesh there. A thumb brushed across his lips. "Look at me," Taichi said, his voice textured with a throaty purr that was sending so many shivers down Yamato's spine it had to be deliberate.

It didn't occur to Yamato that Taichi was using their mutual attraction to manipulate him until he looked up and saw Taichi's face inches from his own, lips dangerously close.

Taichi rewarded his unintentional obedience by smoothing small circles into the tension of his neck.

"What happened, Yamato?" Calmer now, the fury leashed and hidden away, Taichi's gaze was still interrogative, but it seemed that he truly wished to understand.

Even so, Yamato had no clue where to begin. He didn't know what Taichi wanted to hear, so he said nothing. Taichi kept pressing.

"You didn't kill them yourself. Who did you meet?"

Yamato looked away. "I don't know." If he had lost favor with Taichi, he would need the men to escape. And anyway, he honestly didn't know who they were.

Taichi didn't give up. "Who are you in contact with? Your father's men?"

Yamato snorted, fixing Taichi with a skeptical eye. There was no way Taichi could believe that. "You think my father's behind this? He's the one who sold me in the first place." If Taichi actually thought his father was involved, the man was less intelligent than Yamato gave him credit for.

His annoyance must have showed, for Taichi broke out a one-sided smile. "All right, if not your father, then who? You met somebody," he insisted.

"I don't know." It was difficult to think up a believable lie that would get Taichi to stop questioning him.

Taichi's smile disappeared. "I'm not an idiot, Yamato. Two people are dead. I want to know who you met and I don't want there to be three bodies in the morgue."

Yamato's heart sped up. He gulped. "I- Are you..." Was that a threat???

Taichi closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "No, I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to be sure that no one else gets hurt. I need to know who these people are. Or who they work for, at least."

The men had said that they were working for a Lord, but hadn't said which one. Despite this, Taichi was expecting him to know something. After a brief weighing of the pros and cons, Yamato decided to feed him his best educated guess. Kidou was almost as much of a bastard as Yagami. It was likely he was the one pulling the strings. If not, he deserved whatever trouble the lie would cause.

He coaxed some nervous sincerity into his expression and dared to lock eyes with Taichi as he spoke. "They might have been Lord Kidou's men," Yamato said, his voice trailing off in scripted uncertainty.

"I see." There was no surprise in Taichi's voice. Apparently, the lie was believed. "And how are you in contact with them?"

His mind flicked over to the transmitter hidden in the corner and he licked his lips. Taichi's eyes followed the action. "I'm not in contact with anyone," Yamato lied again. He didn't want to burn the shaky bridge of trust with his possible rescuers. There was no way he'd tell Taichi about the transmitter. "They said they would find me again."

Brown eyes narrowed, but eventually, this also seemed to satisfy Taichi. "What do they want?" he asked.

"I don't know." Another lie. If they wanted Yagami's head on a platter, Yamato wasn't going to make it more difficult for them. But Taichi was frowning. Did he think he was in danger? "I won't let them hurt you, Taichi," he said, realizing the statement was true as the words left his lips.

For all that Yagami had ordered his protégé to break him, Taichi was doing a horrible job. Unless, this was all part of a bigger scheme... Yamato pushed the swirl of possible mind games from his thoughts, refusing to consider them. If he didn't trust Taichi, he had no stable point on which to build his hopes. And there was the feeling of something... an intangible thread binding them together... that he couldn't shake. Now that Taichi's anger was fading, being muted in the Lord's true attempt to understand, it was easy to remember his many kind gestures. Taichi had risked much in befriending him. If the men forced him to choose between his freedom and Taichi's life... "I won't let them hurt you," he repeated, hoping it wouldn't come to that.

Taichi looked up, face intent. "So you have some control over them?"

Was that the implication? Yamato reviewed his words.

Dammit. He's sharper than he lets himself appear... and he's right. It does sound like I can tell them what to do, but really...

If the men tried to attack Taichi, there wasn't much he could do about it. An image of the guard's lifeless eyes came unbidden into his mind, the picture twisting so that it looked as if it were Taichi who stared up at him with unseeing brown eyes. He shook off the strangely vivid picture, a chill striking through him. He didn't want that.

"No, I just meant that if they tried to hurt you, I would do my best to stop them," he said, attempting to cover both his mistake and the slight admission of desire.

Taichi inclined his head, a knowing look in his eye. That he didn't comment was just one more item to add to the list of things he could've done to hurt Yamato but had not.

To Yamato, Taichi's simple gifts -- whether food, clothing, company, or kindness -- made all the difference in the world.

"You've been good to me," he spoke, directing the words into his lap.

Taichi reached out and cupped his face in one hand. "I'm glad you finally noticed." He let out a soft sigh of exasperation. "I am trying to help you, but things are complicated." His thumb moved tenderly in a caress. "What am I going to do with you?"

Those words... he'd heard them before... somewhere... 'What am I going to do with you?'

"Just love me." The words were out before Yamato could think. Unbidden to his lips, they had come as an echo of Yamato's memory, the oft-used phrase of a person long-since forgotten. a person, long-since forgotten. The words carried Taichi back in surprise and though equally surprised at himself, Yamato decided the request was true enough. The attraction between them was too hard to ignore. If Taichi loved him, or even cared for him, maybe everything could be okay.

If Taichi loved him, things would be so much simpler. He'd have an ally, someone to help defend him from Yagami. It wouldn't be too difficult to help Taichi shift from attraction to desire... but first he had to reassure the Lord. Taichi was standing frozen, trying to gauge Yamato's request, with a mix of panic, desire, and shock distorting his calm exterior. Yamato reached out and drew him closer with both trembling hands.

"Make love to me?" he asked, finding confidence after saying the words aloud. It made sense to give in to his desire. They could both have exactly what they wanted.

Whatever the future might bring, he wanted this moment with Taichi. Part of him wanted the gentleness Taichi would give, and a significant part of him felt genuine attraction, but mostly, he wanted a memory to absorb whatever pain or misery would come when Taichi was forced to turn him over, trained, to Yagami.

Yagami wanted to torture him as a bed-toy. He hadn't seen the bastard since that first day, but undoubtedly some day soon, he would remember his new acquisition and surely, he wouldn't let Yamato be on top.

Yamato wasn't a virgin, or even a stranger to having male bed-partners, but he'd always been the one in control. Yagami wouldn't give him that, but Taichi... Someday soon Yagami would take away his choice, but he could choose Taichi.

Taichi was looking beyond startled and his breathing had turned heavier, as if he were losing control of his temper. Yamato released him and turned away before he could get himself into even more trouble. Taichi caught his wrist, expression serious.

"Sorry," Yamato offered. "I'm not sure where that came from." Even so, the request was true enough. The idea of having sex with Taichi wasn't so horrible. There'd been an attraction between them ever since Yamato had mistaken the taller man for a medic. And now...

Taichi pulled him closer, forcing their hips dangerously close together. "Did you mean that?" he demanded softly.

Acute desire, not anger, showed in brown eyes as intoxicating as aged brandy.

Losing himself in that liquid gaze was his first mistake.

His second mistake was parting his lips yet saying nothing.

The third mistake was letting himself melt into Taichi's arms, relishing the sensations from their brushing groins.

And by the time Taichi's lips pressed against his, Yamato wasn't thinking clearly enough to care whether any of it was a mistake or not.

The world around him was a blur as Taichi eased him down to the mattress.



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Added Chapter 4: 01-11-04
Minor Edits: 01-03-05

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