Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Digimon 222: Dark Masquerade ❯ Awakening ( Chapter 2 )

Ice'is Blue does not own Digimon. She's quite content writing fanfiction for it and receiving no money for her efforts. ^_^

Author's Notes:

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Reviews, questions, and constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated.

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Digimon: 222 -- Dark Masquerade
by Ice'is Blue



Chapter 2: Awakening

In another few hours it would be dawn. In the blackness that lay outside the cockpit window, Koushiro thought he spotted a dark figure heading toward the transport. He rubbed a weary eye, not really trusting his vision and fighting off a brain-numbing mix of exhaustion, anger, and concern. Surely if there was a threat to the transport, it would come with a larger number of attackers. After a tense moment during which his fingers were poised over the weapons controls, the figure keyed in the correct security code.

The man he had been waiting for finally stumbled into the cockpit. It was nearly two and a half hours after the other guests had left and the evening's purchases had been delivered. Fully awake and no longer worried, Koushiro was beyond angry.

Ever cautious, he slapped the control that locked the outer door and set up a security field around the cockpit that would block any attempts at spying. Being secure in the knowledge that they were safe, he turned his attention to his tardy friend.

"Where the hell have you been!" he shouted, awkwardly catching up the front of the larger man's robes and shaking him violently. "I've been worried sick! I was just about to head back with the slaves and organize a rescue. There was no message. No signal that you were still alive. What were you thinking?"

When the cloaked figure made no move to defend himself, Koushiro ceased the shaking, afraid of rattling away whatever sense the Lord still possessed. He sighed, wondering what was going on with his best friend.

"Take it off," he ordered with a frown that was only somewhat tempered by the concern in his voice. "The transport's secure."

Within moments, the dark metal mask was on the floor and, to Koushiro's surprise, a familiar series of soft clicks sounded, signaling the release of the bodysuit. The mass of robes, synthetic flesh, armor, and circuitry parted like a splitting cocoon to reveal a strong body clothed in a navy blue jumpsuit.

No longer in the costume of Lord Yagami, Taichi stood before him, pale, silent, and trembling. Although there wasn't a mark on him, he looked beaten.

"Shit," Koushiro swore gently, taking a step forward. "What happened, Taichi?" Silence. He gulped. "Did the mask fail? Do they suspect us? Did you have to explain?" He couldn't think of what else could have happened to make Taichi act like this. It had to have been that the mask had failed and Taichi had been stuck explaining the change in his voice.

If there was a problem with the mask, it's my fault, he thought guiltily. It's my responsibility to make sure it's functioning correctly. Anxiety built in the genius with each passing second. "Maybe we should leave right away," he suggested. Koushiro began to reach for the engine controls, but Taichi's grip, as unusually weak as it was, stopped him.

"No, the mask didn't fail. And no, we can't leave yet," Taichi said, sounding only like a poor imitation of his normally confident and irrepressible self. "We have to wait for tonight's last purchase to be delivered," he added.

"You bought another slave? Separate from the others?"

Taichi nodded.

Mind whirling in activity, Koushiro punched up the account used for slave purchases and was shocked to see that the funds had dropped so sharply. "How many more did you buy? Thirty? A whole town? That's great, but how are we going to transport them all?" As he spoke, Taichi was shrinking smaller. If Koushiro hadn't known any better, he would have said the man was cringing. "What is it?"

Taichi refused to meet his eyes. "It was just one," he whispered.

One slave. All of that hard-gathered money had gone for a single slave. "One," he echoed in disbelief and a growing sense of dread. "Who? Taichi, what happened in Masaharu's fortress? Why did it take you so long to get back?"

The Lord moved to one of the seats, shaking his head. "I can't believe it," he said, not providing any sort of useful answer. His knees curled defensively up to his chest as his arms wrapped about them in a desperate embrace.

Koushiro watched in silence, feeling utterly useless, as Taichi sank his head into the hollow created by his arms. It's moments like this that remind me why I prefer dealing with computers -- there's no diagnostic to run on humans that will tell me what's wrong. His obvious attempts to reach his friend had failed. Words had always been Taichi's strong point. It was Taichi's words that kept hundreds of thousands safe. If Taichi can't talk about it, what hope do I have of saying something to make him feel better?

Unable to do anything more, he walked over and rested his right hand on Taichi's shoulder. With his left, he used his fingers to comb through the unruly brown hairs that had been beaten into submission by the mask. It amused Koushiro that for all Taichi's complaints about helmet-hair and the unpleasantness of him having that much hair trapped inside the mask creating heat and sweat, Taichi refused to let his hair be trimmed.

After much coaxing, the limp hair recuperated from its captivity, slowly lifting to an unkempt semblance of its former gloriously orchestrated chaos. Koushiro rested his hand on the unburdened shoulder and began a slow massage. Fingers, nimble and strong from typing at keyboards for hours at a time, sought out the knots in Taichi's tense shoulders. He was rewarded for his efforts by the sudden deep breath that came from Taichi.

Slowly, the brunet tilted his head back and he looked up at Koushiro in quiet gratitude before closing his eyes once more. The Lord took another steadying breath. "Do you remember Yamato?" Taichi finally asked.

Koushiro searched his memory. "He's the Lord Masaharu's son." And when we were younger, you liked him.

Taichi nodded. "Yes, that's him. The slave that I bought tonight was Yamato."

"It could be a trap." Koushiro had to say it.

"I know. I thought of that. But considering the price, I can't believe that Masaharu suspects us of anything."

"Taichi," Koushiro admonished. "You can't go by credits."

The knots that had been loosening rematerialized as Taichi shuddered.

"You didn't see his eyes. And... the money wasn't the only price that I had to pay. If they had suspected anything, they would have killed me afterwards."

Oh. Oh, Taichi... A thousand nightmares fluttered through his mind and his fingers stilled as they clenched into anxious fists. Koushiro walked around and knelt in front of where Taichi sat huddled. "What else happened?" he asked softly. "How else did you pay?"

After a moment of apparent hesitation on Taichi's part, Koushiro was enfolded in a rib-grinding embrace.

No, he didn't like it. Yes, Taichi was hardly acting like his usually controlled self. And yes, given Taichi's current coordination, he probably could have avoided the crushing hug. But something is seriously wrong. And we've been together through too much for me to put his emotional stability beneath a bruised rib... or three.

On his knees, Koushiro endured the uncomfortable grip for a long while until at last, Taichi mumbled something into his shoulder.

"What was that?" he asked, squirming ineffectively against the hold. He strained his ears as Taichi repeated himself, but the only bits that he could make out were "so small" and "too much."

By now, chills were running down his spine and Koushiro had moved past angry, past concerned, and far past worried. Now Koushiro was scared for his friend and he vowed death, vengeance, or at the very least, an extremely devastating virus, on whoever or whatever had put Taichi in such a state.

Koushiro moved his hand in what he hoped were soothing strokes along Taichi's back. The suit was intact. They couldn't have hurt him physically. But was it possible that he'd been hurt in some other way? "How else did you pay?" he repeated. "Did they do something to you?"

Taichi mumbled a 'no.'

That 'no' doesn't sound very sure. "Taichi?" he demanded sternly.

"No!" Taichi's fists clenched in the fabric of Koushiro's shirt with such strength that the seams ripped. He raised his head to face Koushiro, his expression twisted in a grimace of pain.

"I'd already agreed to the credits, but then the bastard said he wouldn't let me have Yamato until he saw a -- a demonstration of my skills," he spat.

Koushiro still didn't understand. The dreadful puzzle lacked a crucial piece. He held himself silent and without breath as Taichi forced himself to continue.

"He wanted me to... the fucking bastard!" Taichi sucked in more air to get a hold of himself. With his face turned away, the truth came out in a rush. "Masaharu wanted me to torture a kid! And I did it!"

Torn between horror and sympathy, Koushiro felt his heart break as Taichi hesitantly looked at him. He could feel the brown eyes begging him for mercy, for he knew that Taichi didn't even dare to seek forgiveness.

"I did it," Taichi said hollowly. "I tortured that little boy because I thought that sticking to the deal and getting Yamato was important."

The genius let the air he'd been holding escape rapidly from his lungs in surprise. That was not the answer that he'd been expecting. Oh fuck.

Taichi, once more, pressed his face to his friend's neck.

"Koushiro, I hate myself right now."

"We'll make it right, somehow." The words, cliche and wooden, were coming from his mouth without thought.

Taichi shook his head. "I tried to buy the boy, to get him away, but Masaharu wouldn't sell."

"We'll find a way. We will make it right, Lord Taichi," Koushiro said more firmly, trying to use the reminder of duty to calm his friend. "You stuck to your gut instinct. I remember that you've cared for Yamato in the past and I can imagine that you think that affected your decision. But I also know that as a Lord, your gut is rarely wrong. And while I think the whole thing has the chance of being a mistake--"

Taichi cut him off. "You think I acted irresponsibly," he said matter-of-factly. The hug evaporated as he backed away with an uncomfortable expression.

The red-head winced. "That's not what I was going to say."

"You were thinking it, though," Taichi accused softly. Then he looked down. "Don't worry. I'm thinking it too."

Koushiro scowled. "You didn't let me finish. What I was about to say was, even though I don't understand your choice, I trust you. Taichi, nobody can do this, put on this act, better than you can. You can't escape what you are. Your father was--" he cursed himself for talking about the man like he was dead and began again. "Your father is a brilliant man, and you have his same talents. Until he returns, you are the Lord that protects everyone."

"Look, Koushiro, I know you're trying to help, but talking about me about being a Lord isn't making me feel any better. I don't want to be reminded right now of how much people depend on me."

Unwilling to let Taichi walk away when he was finally showing some signs of life, Koushiro kept talking. "Well maybe it doesn't matter what you want!" The Lord looked up at him, looking shocked by the uncharacteristic outburst. "Taichi, have you ever stopped to wonder about why people look to you to protect them? It's not just because they think that you're your father. It's because we believe in you. We have faith that you're doing your absolute best to keep us safe."

Koushiro softened his voice. "What you experienced tonight was a horrible thing, but you have our trust. The hundreds of slaves that you've freed, they trust you. The hundreds of thousands of subjects that live under laws that you uphold, they trust you. Taichi, your sister loves and trusts you, and so do I. You'll get through this. So just give it some time. It'll work out."

He watched Taichi closely, anxious to see if his words had any effect. The man was nodding, but there was something about the motion that made Koushiro think it was more a gesture of defeat than one of acceptance.

He still doesn't believe me. He's only agreeing because he's just too exhausted right now to hate himself any further. Maybe... maybe I should have dropped the responsibility speech when he asked me to. He's acting calmer now, but who knows what he's really thinking...

Koushiro almost growled in frustration, but he caught himself, knowing it was likely Taichi would blame himself for causing the stress.

It's me that should be apologizing. Yet again, I've said the wrong thing. I really shouldn't have reminded him about duty at a time like this.

"I'm sorry," he offered in apology. "I guess that didn't help much."

Taichi flashed a lopsided grin. "It's okay. Don't feel bad, Koushiro. It helped a little." He shook his head. "I just need..." His voice trailed off and the hand that he had been raising fell back to his side.

Koushiro studied the scuffs on the floor, lost in thought.

It's always this way. He hates asking for things for himself. Even when his father was missing, Taichi mourned in private. He kept his fears to himself. All because he didn't want to trouble anyone. Only when Hikari had broken down in front of him in uncontrollable sobs, did he allow us to see his tears. And even then, he wouldn't accept comfort from anyone but her.

He must be really hurting right now for his control to have slipped to the point where he'd squeeze me tight enough to hurt me. I want to help him, but how can I? If Hikari were here, she'd hug him. Though, I don't know if that will work for me again. He's already pulled away from me once tonight... But, I guess it won't hurt to try.

Hesitantly, and feeling altogether unsure of himself, Koushiro stepped forward. "Hikari is not present, but will I suffice in her place?" He opened his arms.

Taichi was in them in a second, the embrace more gentle this time, less desperate. Koushiro returned the hug as best he could, knowing how much that earlier smile and admission of need had cost, and wishing that Hikari were truly here to help comfort Taichi...

It was working. The trembling had stopped and Taichi was calming down. But even though Koushiro knew he should be focusing on his friend, he couldn't stop himself from thinking that the whole situation was just, wrong. Taichi needed advice. He needed opinions. He needed facts. But he never needed comforting. Pondering the dichotomy between Taichi's surreal strength and his almost-tears, Koushiro had a moment of clarity.

Taichi's a natural leader. He's good at talking his way out of trouble. He's played a dangerous role that lesser men would have fumbled or would have been broken by. And until tonight, he's done it with ease. But it could destroy him. I can only hope that it will not, but he needs someone that can support him, someone that he feels comfortable reaching out to.

Hikari and I can't fill that role. He thinks we're weaker and he hesitates to share with us because he wants to shelter us. Taichi needs someone who's just as strong and stubborn as he is. But, isolated by his mask, who else can he turn to? Who else can he reveal his true face to?

Wearing the suit and mask is changing him. It was fine when all he had to do was act tough and talk mean. But he's never had to sacrifice more than words -- never had to raise his hand and hurt another human being. Now, for the sake of protecting others, he's let his morals, his actions be polluted. True, it's only one incident, but with that single moment, he's lost the protection of being innocent. And for that loss, he needs to mourn.

Koushiro eased damp locks of hair away from Taichi's forehead."You know," he began hesitantly, unsure if more words would help. "It's okay to cry."

Taichi burrowed his head closer. "I can't cry anymore," he whispered brokenly.

Heart aching, Koushiro left it at that, not willing to push the issue, and saddened that his friend had lost the ability to cry. He closed his eyes and a tear streaked down from burnt-red lashes. He clutched his friend closer and whispered back, "It's okay, I'll do it for you."

You can't cry with me, you won't let me share the burden of your pain, so I'll cry for you.

***

Eventually, there was a knock at the door.

Taichi shifted away. "They're delivering him. Deal with it, please. I can't. I just can't."

Koushiro gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. "Right. Leave it to me. Just stay out of sight."

Taichi nodded, gathered up the suit and mask, and left the cockpit.

With a sigh, Koushiro checked to make sure his appearance was suitable. Hoping that it was dark enough to conceal the rips in the seams, he opened the door. Four soldiers stood outside. Two were in front and two more stood behind, bearing a slumped figure.

"We're sorry for the delay," one of them apologized.

"He had to be knocked unconscious," another explained. "The drug he's been given will keep him that way for six hours. Maybe more, since he's so scrawny."

"I see," Koushiro said.

"Where do you want him?"

"This way," Koushiro commanded, leading them around the side of the ship.

At the cargo bay door, he keyed in an eight-digit sequence. Almost immediately, a burly doctor dressed as a Slavemaster appeared at the door. Koushiro caught his eye. "Take the slave inside and wait for me." The doctor nodded and the limp blond was passed over.

The genius returned his attention to the four soldiers.

"If you'd sign here, please, Lord, we can complete the transfer." A soldier held out two small datapads.

Koushiro suppressed a smile at the honorific title and signed to acknowledge the delivery of Yamato. He passed one datapad back and kept the other for himself.

"Give Lord Yagami's regards to Lord Masaharu for such a fine evening," he said in dismissal, knowing he didn't quite manage to sound like he was comfortable saying the words. But if the soldiers noticed anything awkward, they didn't comment on it. In unison, the four nodded and spun on their heels. Koushiro watched and waited until they disappeared into the fortress.

***

Before he returned to the cockpit, Koushiro wanted to get a closer look at Yamato. As he walked through the slave compartment, he steeled himself against the looks of fear and hate. He felt sorry for them all to be locked up for this long before departure, but they couldn't be told of their non-slave status until each had been screened and approved. They'd had some trouble with spies in the past year.

Which was why, when Koushiro looked upon the fragile-looking man, it was hard for him to feel any sort of sympathy. Despite Taichi's gut feeling to 'rescue' the ex-Lord and despite what had been said about trust to calm the brunet, Koushiro had an equally strong gut feeling that Taichi had made a very grave mistake.

There's no way he can ever be trusted. His father's horribly abusive and power-hungry. How can the son be any different from the father that raised him?

Koushiro was confident that Taichi would realize the truth soon enough. He only hoped that it wouldn't cause his friend too much pain.

The doctor approached him. Because he knew Taichi would ask him, Koushiro asked how the slave was doing.

"From the looks of his injuries, he struggled and was beaten before they drugged him unconscious. Some of the bruising might have been inflicted even after he'd been knocked out."

Koushiro nodded. "This one has a high probability of being dangerous. Only you, the Lord, and I are to have contact with him. Treat his injuries, but keep him fully sedated until you hear from me otherwise. When we reach Lord Yagami's domain, place him in a cell far away from the others and search his clothes thoroughly for any devices that might compromise our security. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Koushiro was almost at the door when he paused and turned back to the doctor. "One more thing. I need a special drink for the Lord."

***

After switching to auto-pilot, the red-haired genius found Taichi sitting on the bed in his private room on the transport. As he'd anticipated, Taichi raised his head immediately and asked about Yamato.

Koushiro resisted the urge to scowl at his friend's concern for the ex-Lord. "He's fine. Banged up a bit and they drugged him unconscious, but there are no serious injuries." Taichi nodded, then leaned back to rest his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Breaking the silence that followed, Koushiro asked, "Are you hungry? I know you didn't eat at the masque. Do you want me to bring you something?"

Taichi shook his head. "I'm not hungry." He opened his eyes then, focusing on the floor. "Koushiro, I can't stop thinking about what I did to that boy. Do you really think I did the right thing?"

There was silence for a moment as Koushiro decided whether or not to tell the truth. "I don't know," he finally said honestly enough. "We'll find out in the morning once we've questioned him." Taichi didn't respond and Koushiro left the room after the brown eyes glazed over and went unseeing.

He returned with a glass and handed it to Taichi. "Drink it."

Slowly, the young Lord's eyes focused. The trembling from before was gone, but his face remained pale. "I'm feeling better," he announced defensively, still holding the full glass in his hand.

"I know," Koushiro said.

Taichi sighed, took a sip, then asked, "Is it drugged?"

Koushiro smiled sadly and didn't reply. He didn't need to.

Tired brown eyes met his and Taichi drained the glass in a gulp. The Lord's head was on the pillow in minutes.

Gently, Koushiro tucked the sheet in closer about his friend's body and he pressed a soft kiss onto the warm forehead. Sleep well, Taichi.

***

Taichi awoke in his own familiar bed at the fortress, the covers from the transport still wrapped around him. Koushiro must have had the doctor help carry me here. Only a select few were allowed to come near him when he was unmasked, for fear of the secret being revealed. Everyone except for Hikari, the doctor, Koushiro, and Koushiro's adoptive parents, believed Taichi to be dead. It wasn't an easy way to live, but it was better than the alternative.

When his father disappeared and no trace of him could be found, the group of men that helped oversee his territory became more and more nervous about the situation. Disagreements became harder to resolve and without the unifying presence of Lord Yagami, the solidarity that protected the territory was threatened. No ransom came.

Knowing that he had to take action, Taichi disappeared from view, telling everyone that he was personally going in search of the man. In truth, he never left the fortress. Koushiro helped hide him and together they plotted the best way to preserve the peace and safety of Lord Yagami's territory. It had been over a month with no contact whatsoever from his father.

If the death was announced, it was unlikely that Lord Yagami's commanders would accept a new leader. The internal squabbling would tear them apart. And, although the commanders each possessed cunning, none had sufficient skills to keep up the charade and even if one did, the illusion of cruelty wouldn't work a second time. The cautiously suspicious High Lords would rightly suspect something. Furthermore, High Lords newly come to power were challenged. There would be no way to substitute someone in Lord Yagami's place. Unless, that man was Lord Yagami himself. Somehow, Taichi had to find a way to bring his father back from the dead.

Forced to admit to himself that his father was either dead or never coming back, Taichi came up with a risky plan. He had been at his father's side constantly, from the age of ten, watching and learning. The only way to keep the territory safe was for someone to become Lord Yagami. Taichi decided that he was the best for the task.

Koushiro, his adoptive parents, and their family's doctor worked on the plan. The suit and mask were built and tested. Meanwhile, Koushiro had helped spread rumors of a terrible accident -- Taichi had found his father, the only survivor of the crash of his transport, but during his rescue, Taichi had slipped and fallen to his death. Lord Yagami was then rumored to be back at the fortress, but in seclusion due to his severe injuries and his mourning of his deceased son. Hikari was informed of the plan and with her and the doctor's help, the rumors were accepted as fact.

Once the suit and mask were deemed fully functional, Taichi made his first appearance as Lord Yagami. He ordered the floor of his quarters to be completely cleared and set off-limits to any but a select few and he named Koushiro to be his chief assistant, filling the role of Taichi. There were grumbles at that last order -- some believed someone older should fill the role -- but the order was soon accepted without complaint, most choosing to believe that Lord Yagami considered the teen a replacement for his dead son. The mask was explained as covering the severe scarring and deformation caused by the crash that had been left untreated for such a long time.

The first year was undeniably difficult, but the ruse worked. With the years of watching his father in action, Taichi could copy the 'cruel Lord Yagami' persona without hesitation. He was very mature for the age of eighteen and his decisions were fair and wise. None of the other Lords showed any suspicion, nor did they question his authority. Taichi saw to it that some were slipped the information that the two-month absence from public life was actually time spent in furthering a project that would give Yagami millions of extra credits. Again, the rumor was chosen to be taken as fact. In the four years that had passed, he'd been able to free more than three thousand slaves.

Taichi had given up his life to become Lord Yagami, but it was better than the alternative.

***

The ancient wooden clock in the corner chimed, drawing Taichi's attention to the fact that he had awoken past lunchtime -- a fact that was strongly reinforced by the loud protestations of his empty stomach. Glancing around the room, Taichi located the suit and mask. Time to get dressed. Then he caught sight of himself in the mirror and almost laughed. Mask or no mask, I can still benefit from a shower and a shave.

Feeling much better after being washed clean by the hot water, Taichi dressed in his mask and customary black robes. The suit remained sitting in the chair Koushiro had propped it up in, used only when venturing outside his fortress. Taichi walked the empty corridors to the elevator. This entire level of the fortress was for his use only and was accessible only to those who knew his secret, for it was only here on this level that he did not wear the mask. Taichi keyed in the code for the elevator. The code to leave the level was different from the code to enter -- Koushiro thought of everything. Even if someone somehow managed to enter his sanctuary, they would be unable to leave without the second code. And in case of emergencies, there was a code-locked stairwell.

Taichi was thankful for the way that Koushiro looked out for him. Last night had been no exception. The genius was always concerned for his safety. Although Koushiro's loyalty was so strong sometimes it made him feel unworthy, he was intensely grateful to have it. And in the lonely years since his father's disappearance, he didn't think he could have lived without it.

He knew part of the loyalty was out of gratitude to his family. Koushiro had been purchased as an infant and had grown up in safety under the care of his adoptive parents. But Taichi also knew the majority of Koushiro's loyalty toward him was because of their friendship. For although their heights differed greatly, they were roughly the same age and had been good companions since childhood. Taichi smiled as he thought back to their previous adventures... well, pranks, might be a more correct term.

The pattern back then had been simple. Taichi would come up with a wonderful idea. Koushiro would protest, but in the end, he would use his intuitive knowledge of the way things worked to achieve Taichi's desired effect. And then the brunet would use every ounce of the charm he'd been born with to keep the punishment minor in comparison to the ill-received crime. Truthfully, the situation wasn't all that different now. The mask that Koushiro created and maintained kept him in a position to help people and Taichi's own acting abilities kept him alive and undiscovered.

Koushiro had always been a loyal friend. Now, with this business with Yamato, Taichi felt that somehow he had betrayed that loyalty. It was obvious that Koushiro thought he'd made a mistake in purchasing the young Lord, but Taichi couldn't even begin to explain his actions to his friend because he could barely explain them to himself.

Why? Why had he bought Yamato?

Yamato was hunched into a ball at the back of some storage room. If I hadn't taken off after him the second he ran away, I would never have found him. I came closer to him and the sniffing noises stopped. He turned around and glared at me.

"Come to make fun of me?"

"No," I said. For a moment, I wasn't quite sure what else to say. His voice was so cold and angry. I wanted to help make him feel better, but he looked like he didn't want me around. But when have I ever let something like that stop me?

"Why are you still standing there?" he asked.

Like they always did, the words just came. "I wanted to tell you that I agree with you," I told him. "I believe that slaves are people too. And, I guess I wanted to say that it's not wrong to feel sad when someone that you love dies."

Yamato scrambled backwards, away from me, shaking his head. "No, it's a trick. My father sent you. You'll tell him that I'm still crying and that I like the slaves."

"Your father didn't send me," I said, disappointed that he would think that about me. "I came on my own, because I wanted to make sure that you're all right. I've never met a Lord my age before that liked slaves too, and you looked so sad when you ran away, so I wanted to make you feel better. I don't have any proof, but I'm telling you the truth."

"You could still get me in trouble. Why should I trust you?"

"Where I live, we get along much better with our servants and 'slaves,' if you could call them that. When we're dealing with other people, we act cold and cruel, but really, it's all a game. We try to help people when we can. Now, I probably shouldn't be telling you this -- it's kind of a family secret -- but now you know too. So, I'll keep your secret, if you'll keep mine."

I reached my hand out. Waiting for him to take it felt like an eternity. But he finally did, and we sealed the promise with a handshake.

He looked a little happier, even managed a small half-smile, but what I really wanted was to see him smile all the way. He was pretty when he was glaring at me, so I could only imagine what it would look like when he was really happy.

I slugged him on the shoulder. "Hey, cheer up."

"No," he scowled back at me. "Kumoashi's still dead," he said... right before he punched me in the face.

Okay, I guess I deserved that because I forgot about what had upset him in the first place. But even so, I still wanted to see him smile.

Yamato turned his back on me. Okay. Fine. He could be that way. But I was determined to find a way to make him happy. It would be difficult, but I'm always up for a challenge.

Normally, when I'm trying to make someone feel better, like Hikari, I wouldn't have to do much more than go up and give them a hug. Something told me that it wouldn't work that way with Yamato, but I decided to try it anyway.

The moment my arms were around him, he froze.

"What are you doing?"

"Hugging you." I expected him to shove me away, smash my face in, or both.

But all he said was, "Oh." A couple of seconds later he asked, "Why?"

"Because it feels nice, doesn't it?"

"It feels strange," he said, after giving it some thought.

I laughed. "That's because you're not doing it right." And he wasn't. I was hugging him, but he was just sitting there with his hands at his sides.

He snarled in anger. "Don't make fun of me. I haven't been hugged in a really long time, okay?"

"Oh," I said, feeling sorry for him. "How long is 'a really long time?'"

He thought about it for a bit. "Six years, probably."

When I heard that, nothing was more important right then than making him happy.

"Well," I told him confidently, "hugging's not really a skill that you can forget. Just turn around and wrap your arms around my back and lean toward me a little... That's it," I encouraged when he did as I'd instructed. Slowly, I felt the tension in his embrace fade away and Yamato pressed himself closer against my body. "Feel better now?"

He nodded and his nose rubbed against the soft fabric covering my shoulder. "This does feel nice." He was quiet for a little while, then he looked up at me. "What's your name?"

I grinned at him. "I'm Taichi," I told him.

Then he smiled at me the smile that I'd been waiting for. "Thank you, Taichi."

He stayed leaning against me for so long that if I hadn't checked, I would have thought that he'd fallen asleep on me. But eventually, he drew away.

"If I'm gone for too much longer, I'll get in trouble with my father."

I nodded. "Yeah, my dad's probably worried about me too. We're really close."

Yamato looked nervous again. "Promise again that you won't tell my father I was crying," he demanded.

I grinned again, then swooped down and kissed him on the cheek before he could react. "There, it's a promise," I whispered in his ear.

I've wondered for years what would have happened if I'd stayed instead of dashing out the door. But I never saw him again until I donned the mask.

And even though all this time has passed, and even if he's changed into a completely different person, I still want to see him happy. Because when he smiled right before he thanked me, it was the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.

Something told Taichi that even if things all turned to hell, he wouldn't ever regret buying Yamato. He didn't know how he had fallen in love at such a young age and in such a short time, but he had. Now all he needed to do was make sure that everything worked out for the best. It would be hard keeping his feelings in check, but there was really no other choice. Cracks in the mask were dangerous.

Last night had been close. He'd almost blown his cover and refused to hurt the boy. Maybe he should have; there must have been some other way. But he couldn't think of anything then and he still couldn't think of anything now. Too much was riding on a reputation that was based on smoke and mirrors, or rather cloaks and masks, to do anything that would detract from that image. Countless lives were kept safe by the suffering inflicted upon one -- that was what Koushiro had tried to get him to focus on, but even now that he was calmer, it still sounded like bullshit.

With sleep, the self-hatred from that horrible act had faded. The despair and self-loathing that he had felt last night were lost in the world of dreams. It still felt like it was much more than just a very bad dream... but the harsh, painful edges of the memory were dulled. Even so, the guilt remained, and probably always would. But someday, he vowed to the silent boy, someday, I'll come back for you.

***

Exiting the elevator, Taichi made his way to Koushiro's workshop, guessing correctly that the genius would be there. When he entered, Koushiro looked up from the array of monitors. The doors shut behind him and Taichi tongued off the voice modulation.

"Hi," he greeted, knowing that Koushiro would still be worried about him. "At noon today, Taichi returned to his body, only to find that it had been seriously deprived of nourishment. So I was wondering if you'd like to disconnect yourself for a while and join me for a late lunch. Because, at least when I last checked, light photons and computer chips weren't included as part of a balanced meal."

The concern showing on Koushiro's face disappeared as he grinned. "Well, if you're hungry and making jokes, then you must be all right," he said with a laugh.

"Seriously, though," Taichi continued, "thanks for last night. I'm feeling 110% better now. The rest did me good."

"That's good to hear," the red-head said with genuine happiness. "So, back to your floor?"

"Yeah," Taichi thumped his knuckles against the side of the mask. "Eating with this thing on is always such a pain."

They both laughed.

"Let's stop by the kitchens and carry our food up," Koushiro suggested. "It'll be a good chance to let people see you. You know that they worry every time you leave."

Taichi nodded and tongued the switch. "Showtime," he said with Lord Yagami's deeper voice.

Getting food didn't take nearly as long as Taichi had dreaded. The cooks were delighted to see him and had been keeping his favorite meal warm for him ever since they had received word that he'd returned safely. Lord Yagami's favorite meal wasn't the same as Taichi's, but it still tasted good. Koushiro's meal only took several more minutes to be ready.

Burdened with heaping trays of food, they entered the elevator and punched in the code for Taichi's floor. Taichi was enjoying the easy silence between them, but Koushiro broke it.

"Taichi, are you sure you're all right after last night?" he asked.

Taichi gave a snort of annoyance that didn't make it past the voice changer. He tongued the device off. "You're a brave man to ask me that in an enclosed space while I'm carrying a tray of steaming hot soup," he quipped.

Koushiro rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

Taichi sighed. "Yeah. I'll be okay."

The red-head glanced up at him with a calculating expression. Taichi could tell that genius wasn't sure he believed him. In truth, Taichi wasn't all too sure he believed himself, either. But, I'll pretend it's all right until it is all right. The boy's pained face would vanish from his mind eventually, and in the meantime, there were plenty of other things which required his full attention.

"Honestly, Koushiro. I'll be fine. Don't tell Hikari, though, okay? I don't want anyone else to know."

"Okay, I won't," the genius promised. "I understand."

Exiting the elevator, they walked down the empty corridors to the dining room. In unison, they set their trays down on the glass tabletop. Taichi tongued the release for the helmet and set it down on a stand in the corner of the softly lit room. Koushiro had waited for him, so Taichi took his seat and they both began eating.

***

"Dinner last night gave me more information on Lord Otis and the Kaizer," Taichi said once his stomach was pleasantly full. "But discussing that can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I want to know how the new arrivals are adjusting."

"On the average, they're doing good. Everyone seems to be adjusting well. Excluding your extra purchase, we're confident that none of them are spies." Koushiro softened the remark by continuing quickly, "The old man, though, fell ill on the journey here. The doctor assures me that it's not contagious, but he's in bad shape. The sellers probably knew that -- that's why the price was so low for him."

Taichi looked at him, his expression grave. "Well, have the doctor do his best to help him. It would be unfortunate if he were to die now that he's free. What about the man that was beaten?"

Koushiro checked the notes on his datapad. "After he promised not to try attacking the doctor again, he was patched up. He's a strong fighter and has agreed to help us." The red-head set the pad down and looked across the table at him. "You made good choices, Taichi."

Taichi nodded then frowned. "What about Yamato?" Koushiro took a breath, hesitating to say what Taichi knew he eventually would. "Just say it, Koushiro."

"All right. Taichi, you must know that this could be part of a plot to attack you. I know you've cared about him and I know that Yamato has displayed a kindness to slaves in the past. Even so, he could still be working with his father to destroy you."

"Why do you keep bringing that up?" Koushiro had a point, but Taichi was becoming frustrated since the shorter man had brought up his crush on Yamato again.

"Bringing what up?"

"Me liking Yamato."

"Well, don't you?" Koushiro asked with curiosity.

Taichi bit his lip. He had, but did he still? "I don't know. That was nine years ago and he hasn't seen me, the real me, since then. I don't know if he still remembers what happened." He frowned. "But all of that shouldn't matter. Those weren't the only reasons why I bought him. If he doesn't like me, that'll be fine. If he isn't a spy, he might be willing to give us information that we don't have access to. And even if he doesn't help us at all, nobody deserves what Masaharu wanted done to him."

"True," Koushiro conceded. "So, I won't stop you from doing this, Taichi, but I want you to be really careful."

Taichi looked away. "Of course. I know what's at stake. And, if it makes you feel better, I don't fully trust him either." Yet.

Koushiro remained silent and Taichi continued, toying with his cloth napkin as he talked.

"Yamato was acting strangely when I talked with him at the masque. When they were whipping the man down on stage, Yamato was clearly agitated about something and he halted the masque right after I bought the man. That makes it seem like he's on our side. But when everyone was surprised by the sudden end, Masaharu supported him.

"Masaharu told me that he was getting rid of Yamato because he was too sympathetic to slaves. But, before dinner, when I was talking to him, Yamato told me that he and his father had been arguing because Masaharu thought that he had disciplined a slave too severely. It doesn't add up. One of them was lying.

"I know Yamato doesn't like Lord Yagami, but I can't be certain if that's just because he sees Yagami as an enemy, or if it's because he hates the way Yagami's reported to treat slaves. I'm certain that nine years ago, he was a sweet boy who would never want to hurt anyone, but people change. We've all changed.

"What we need to do is find out where his loyalties lie," Taichi concluded. The napkin, looking very much like his insides felt, was twisted into knots.

Koushiro smiled at him. "So, what's the plan? You do have a plan, don't you?"

"Um, sort of. I was thinking about it a bit when I was in the shower and I came up with a few ideas. But, what I need to know now, is where Yamato's at. Where is he? What is he doing? Who's seen him? What and who has he seen? Because what he's already experienced of this place has to be factored into the plan."

"Actually, he hasn't seen a thing," Koushiro said, shocking Taichi and making him sit straighter in his chair.

"Really?"

"Not only that, we've kept him a secret. Only you, I, and the doctor know he's here. They dropped him off in a drugged sleep and the doctor and I thought it would be best to keep him that way until you woke up and decided what to do with him."

Taichi beamed. "You're brilliant! This makes everything much easier."

Koushiro nodded. "And, the sleep is good for him. It's helping him heal."

"Heal? What happened to him?" Taichi asked with a hint of worry. "You told me last night that he was fine."

Koushiro shrugged. "I simplified matters. If you want the full details, he has a bruise on his face, one on his arm, and more on his ribs. One of the ribs may be fractured and he has slight burn-marks on his chest that are probably from a stun blast. Between his injuries and the fact that he was sedated when he was brought to us, it seems like he came unwillingly..."

"Or that's what someone wants us to think," Taichi continued. He sighed, wishing the ache in his skull would go away. "If this turns out to be a trick, it's a really, really sick one. And if it isn't... if Yamato's as kind to slaves as Masaharu suggested, then the poor guy's just been betrayed by his own father."

"Either way, Masaharu's a sick bastard who needs to be taught a lesson," Koushiro summed up, speaking Taichi's thoughts.

"Someday," Taichi vowed. "Hopefully soon, and Yamato might just help us do that," he said, brightening. "But first we still need to find out if we can trust him."

"Right," Koushiro agreed. "So, what's your plan?"

"I don't want to just interrogate him. We could never be certain that he was telling the truth. So, I was thinking earlier that we need a way to put him under stress, so he'll be more likely to act naturally and let us see what he's really like. But, we also need that form of stress to be one that doesn't hurt him."

"And you came up with a way?"

Taichi nodded and chose that moment to study a particularly interesting patch of carpet. "In addition to utilizing the normal tactic of verbal stress, which won't be enough in Yamato's case, I was thinking that we could deprive him of clothing."

"That's the plan that you came up with when you were in the shower?" Koushiro asked, rising from his seat in disbelief. "You're suggesting we keep him stripped after you made such a point earlier about not thinking of him that way?" Taichi felt his cheeks color. Koushiro's face darkened as well, but it wasn't with a blush. "No. Absolutely not," the genius said flatly, and he smacked the table for emphasis.

Fighting to keep a serious face, "It's pure psychology," Taichi insisted. With a bit of lust tossed in. "I can't imagine Lord Yamato being comfortably nude in front of strangers and it certainly wouldn't hurt him. It should be perfect."

"For all we know, he could be an exhibitionist," Koushiro snapped as he flopped back into his seat petulantly.

Taichi sniggered a few times before the noise broke into full-fledged laughter. Koushiro looked irked. Slowly, the brunet calmed himself, but a chuckle still escaped him every now and then. "Really, Koushiro, if you have a good reason for us not to do it, I'll listen."

He paused expectantly, but the genius remained silent. Taichi knew with certainty that Koushiro would not suggest that he couldn't control himself in the blond's presence, just as he knew that he would be able to keep that control. If that was all that his friend was worried about...

"Then I've made my decision. After I've met with him as Lord Yagami and scared him a bit, you can take him to go bathe. Then after that, we just don't give him any clothes. It'll be simple. And after that, I talk with him."

"Me? Bathe Yamato?" Koushiro sputtered. "Why me?"

"Well, who else? I can't do it if I'm supposed to be a Lord, Hikari certainly can't, the doctor's busy enough as it is, and I don't want to get your folks involved in this mess. Besides, you don't have to physically bathe him. You just have to stand there and look menacing. Since you don't really like him, that shouldn't be too troublesome for you."

He checked Koushiro's expression. The frown was deepening. Familiar with the signs, Taichi could tell that his friend was about to give in. One more reason would do the trick. "And besides," he said slyly, "this will give you an opportunity to observe him and talk with him a bit."

Koushiro glared at him. "You know, you can be annoying when you're right."

Taichi smiled sweetly. Yep, it's just like old times, only this time, I'm really hoping that the prank isn't on me. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," he told the red-head. "And, as for some of the other details..." He glanced at Koushiro meaningfully. "Aren't you going to take notes?"

Thin-slitted eyes stared at him balefully as Koushiro stretched out an arm and slid the datapad that he had laid on the table closer within his reach. "Happy now?"

Taichi nodded cheerily. "Much better. Now, the first thing that needs to be taken care of is making one of the small suites secure. We have to strip out anything that makes it look like a room instead of a prison cell. And, we can't leave anything in there that he could hurt himself, or me, with."

"What's wrong with the cells we have now? The one he's currently in is fairly isolated."

"The cells aren't on this floor," Taichi said, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Taichi, you are not keeping him on this floor."

"I don't want to wear the mask when I'm talking to him, Koushiro. You and I both agreed that it's too risky to be without it outside of this level. And, we want to keep him a secret. No one would be able to find him, even if they were looking for a mysterious prisoner. Furthermore, he can't escape from this floor without the codes."

Koushiro glared at him, but the look was without any true malice. "If you have this all figured out, why do you even bother discussing it with me?"

Taichi smiled, knowing that he'd won again. "Well," he said smugly, "Although I'm right nearly all of the time, I'm a big enough man to admit that every once in a blue moon I make a mistake. I tell you my plans because you're usually good at spotting potential errors."

Koushiro groaned and rolled his eyes. "You really know how to flatter a guy, don't you," he observed with irony. "All right. What else?"

"I've been debating whether or not it would be better to put a collar on him. This is, actually, something I'd value your input on."

Koushiro thought for a moment. "I don't like the collars any more than you do -- their only purpose is to provide pain. But I'd rather not try to get him to take a bath without one."

Taichi nodded unhappily. "That's what I was thinking too. Transporting him when he's awake would be easier if he's wearing a collar. Safer, actually, too, because he probably won't try to run. If he runs, a blast through the collar is a gentler deterrent than if we stopped him with a different type of force."

"But once he's in his rooms," Koushiro said thoughtfully, "Yamato doesn't have any place to go. So theoretically, once he's situated there, the collar could be removed. You could make the point that you don't need to use the collar because there's no place for him to run to."

"Good idea. I'll do that. If he's a spy, we'll look confident. And if he's not, he won't be paranoid about pain attacks. So, let's keep him asleep until the suite is done, then collar him and transfer him to the rooms and let him wake up there on his own."

Koushiro nodded. "Okay. I'll take care of it. Anything else?"

"We should take off the door to the bathroom." Taichi's eyes wandered over the dirty dishes. "And, I want him to be dependent on me for food, but see to it that the water from the bathroom sink is drinkable and that he can't take apart the faucet easily."

"I think I can manage both of those. Anything else?"

"No, I --"

"Taichi!" his younger sister's voice called from the door.

Taichi stood and gave Hikari a big hug when she ran up to him. "Hi, sis," he greeted, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"I tried calling you at your room and then I tried your mask, but you didn't respond, so I figured you must be eating." She pulled back to take a better look at him. "Are you feeling better? Koushiro said you were really tired when you returned from your trip."

Taichi glanced over at Koushiro then back down at his sister. "I'm feeling great," he said firmly. "I just needed to rest a bit. You know me," he joked, "give me rest and give me food and I can survive anything."

Hikari chuckled. Out of the corner of his eye, Taichi spotted Koushiro leaving.

"Oh, hey!" Taichi called out, hoping to catch the genius' attention before he left the room. The body in the doorway paused, listening. "Don't forget to set the thermostat higher in those rooms. We wouldn't want our blanket-less guest to catch cold," he said with a smile. "I'll send you a message if I think of anything else."

"Okay. I'll remember," Koushiro called over his shoulder.

"Taichi?" Hikari tapped on his arm, drawing his attention away from thoughts of Yamato. "What was that all about? We have a guest?"

Taichi debated on how much to tell her. Hikari was sixteen -- old enough to understand anything he explained to her -- and she was familiar with his work with the slaves... but beyond that, she was still his sweet, innocent little sister. He didn't want to involve her in this potentially dangerous game that all revolved around trust.

"A Lord will be visiting with us for about a month," he told her, hoping it wouldn't take longer than that to establish Yamato's guilt or innocence. "So he won't interfere with the normal operation of the fortress, I'm keeping him confined to this floor. Because of that, I don't want you coming to this level for the duration of the time he's with us."

"He's dangerous?" Hikari asked. A worried frown creased her brow.

Taichi shook his head. "Not exactly. You don't have to worry about my safety." I hope. "But the only people I want him having contact with are myself and Koushiro. It makes things simpler that way. I won't be able to spend as much time with you as I usually do, but what I'm doing is really important."

"That's okay. I understand," she said.

Taichi eyed her with suspicion. Hikari rarely gave up a mystery easily.

"What?" she questioned innocently. "I'll be too busy to be poking around here if you give me permission to help out with the newest batch of slaves. The doctor said I was really useful last time and that I could help again if you agreed. So can I, please? We always need more hands than we've got."

Although his first instinct was to say no, Taichi was unable to deny his sister anything that she begged for, as long as it wasn't dangerous. Which explained why his sister had a nearly extinct species of feline for a pet. And while dealing with newly freed slaves was sometimes dangerous, most of the time it was not and Taichi could trust the doctor to know what was too much for her to handle.

He relented. "All right, all right. Quit looking at me like that. You can help out as long as you promise to follow the doctor's orders and no matter what he says, you can only help out with the children, the women, and the really old ones." There was no way he was going to let his precious baby sister come in contact with strange men.

"Okay, I promise. Thank you, Taichi." She stretched up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll go tell him right now."

Taichi watched her scamper out the door, then went about gathering the dishes from the table and setting them on the cart to be taken out later. Once in his room, Taichi sat down at his desk and began preparing for Lord Yagami's meeting with Yamato.

Let's see. First off, I'll have to remember to tell Koushiro to set up one of the larger rooms with an impressive throne...

Long into the night, thoughts poured out into the datapad. By the time his fingers could move no more, Taichi had a plan. Despite what he had told Koushiro, he would have to ask the doctor for his help if he wanted to make sure Yamato remained mostly unharmed. The genius just wasn't strong enough and he doubted that he could accurately read a person's pulse.

In the morning, I'll have to ask the doctor just how strictly he insists on keeping his oath to do no harm.

***

Yamato moaned in pain when he attempted to sit up. He gave the motion up quickly and let his body go limp. Moving would be torture until he had healed.

From his vantage point on the uncomfortable mattress in the corner, Yamato could tell that he was no longer in his father's fortress. Aside from the thick-looking green carpet, the room was bare, containing only the large mattress itself. What appeared to be a washroom could be seen through an open archway. The only other feature of the window-less room was a door that was almost certainly locked.

Shakily, he brought his hand up to touch his neck and encountered the collar that he had been expecting.

So it's true. I've been sold.

Part of him wanted to cry in anguish, part of him wanted to howl with rage, part of him wanted to curl into a ball so tight that he disappeared from the face of the earth. But he did none of these things -- at least not intentionally. He couldn't stop the tears that forced themselves out against his permission, but he wiped them roughly off his cheeks. Crying would make him seem weak. Appearing weak would be dangerous.

Everything would be more dangerous, now that he was a slave.

But I guess it could be worse. I could be chained naked to a wall. There could be someone here wanting to fuck me mercilessly...

He refused to let his thoughts turn down that path. If that was to be his fate, it would happen soon enough without him imagining the torture first. Besides, there was still the possibility that his father had lied about selling him to Lord Yagami. In fact, the mattress and the lack of chains suggested otherwise.

His senses prickled as he heard noises outside the door. His heart raced. A bowl was shoved through a flap at the bottom of the door.

Food? I am hungry, but can I get to it?

He tried sitting up again and this time he succeeded. With difficulty, he managed to crawl on the floor to his goal, taking a slow pace because of the dizzying after-effects of whatever they'd kept him drugged with. Surprisingly, the carpet was as soft as it had appeared to be. However, judging from the contents of the bowl, the carpet would be his only luxury.

The plastic bowl contained a watery gruel. Although Yamato knew he should be starving, he wasn't. He forced himself to finish it, though, because sooner or later he would have to deal with his captors. Facing them on an empty stomach didn't sound like a good idea. But even though the meal was unappetizing, at least he knew they weren't trying to poison him. If they had been, they would have made the slop taste better.

Feeling stronger and with his head feeling less fuzzy, Yamato tested standing. When that experiment worked without any severe protests from his aching torso, he walked into the bathroom, taking note of the holes in the frame from where hinges had been.

There was a door here not long ago. And I'll bet those holes on the wall over the sink were for a mirror. And when the presence of the carpet is added in... Somebody made this room a lot plainer than it used to be. But why would they do that for me? Why not just stick me in a cell?

He couldn't come up with an answer.

Yamato washed his hands and splashed water on his face before returning to the mattress in the corner of the other room.

Now what do I do?

He didn't have to wonder about entertaining himself for very long before there was more movement outside the door to his room. The door opened and a very large man dressed in a scant amount of black leather strode into the room.

"Get up," his deep voice ordered. "The Master wants to see you now."

Out of sheer panic, Yamato scooted deeper into the corner and away from the advancing figure.

The man grunted. "Fine. Have it your way." He fiddled with the watch on his wrist.

Excruciating pain traveled in waves down Yamato's body. He bit his lip, not wanting to give the man the pleasure of hearing him cry out.

"Hurts, don't it?" the man smirked, the improper grammar betraying his lack of education. "That's the lowest setting. Don't make me use it again," he said. The pain stopped after another sequence of keys on the control watch were pressed. "On your feet, slave."

Yamato tried to obey, but reality was settling down around him much too quickly. Waking up in an unfamiliar room with a slave collar around his neck -- that he could handle. But, cowering before the hulking Slavemaster who wanted to take him to see his owner, his brain refused to respond. He clutched his arms protectively about himself.

The man caught the defensive motion. "What, don't tell me those scrapes on your sides are hurting you to the point where you can't walk," he taunted. Yamato's arm was gripped roughly by the large, smooth hands. "On your feet, or else I'll really give you something to whimper about."

The words, the touch, and the disgust that they both caused sparked something inside of him. Rage seethed up, cold, raw, and unfettered, and he threw the man a look that would freeze lava. His arm was released. Like it had been waiting on its metaphorical shelf for him to think of it, his stone mask slipped into place. Calmer, feeling centered now that he had a filter between him and the world, his muscles obeyed the command to stand.

"Take me to see your Master," he ordered as if it had been his idea to begin with.

The burly man quirked the side of his mouth up into a grin. "This way, lad. The Lord's going to love your spirit."

***

The journey to the Lord's audience chamber was shorter than Yamato had expected. The room was smaller too, but he refrained from making any comment when he saw the occupant of the throne upon the low dais. The carpet, the lack of truly harsh treatment... all the little conveniences had added up to suggest that his father had lied about the identity of his purchaser. But, for perhaps once in his life, Masaharu had told his son the straight truth. Sitting solidly, clothed in a mass of black robes, and hiding behind his ever-present mask, was Lord Yagami.

It was harder to draw in air. His pace along the dark tiled floor became slower and less steady. The certainty that he could manipulate the situation crumbled further with every step that he was forced to take closer to the one man that he truly feared. The same panic that was eroding his calm mask flooded his veins and drowned his thoughts.

He's expecting me to be weak. He knows I'm afraid. I can't act like he's already won. I have to act tough.

Finally standing just a few feet away from the raised platform, he ordered his mouth to say something snotty. Years of practice finally kicked in. He licked dry lips.

"You know, I always imagined your throne room to be bigger -- compensation for what you obviously lack in other areas."

The taunt hung in the air and Yamato wondered if the Lord had heard him through the mask covering his head. For even when the synthesized voice spoke, it ignored Yamato's comment completely.

"You should have taken me up on my offer when you had the chance, Yamato. Now we do things my way." The Lord began to interlace and unlace his gloved fingers rhythmically. "Kneel."

Weight from heavy arms pressing down on his shoulders forced him to his knees. When he struggled to rise, a single hand at the base of his neck kept him in place.

"Remove the slave's shirt," Lord Yagami ordered.

Keeping the one hand where it was, the Slavemaster grasped the back of Yamato's collar and ripped the fabric off his frame, choking him momentarily before the shirt submitted and let itself be torn.

"Your skin is such a beautiful work of art," the masked man murmured.

Yamato shivered, not just from the sudden cold. The comment would have been almost flattering if not for the fact that Yamato knew he had multi-colored bruises on his torso and it was these marks that the Lord was referring to. Lord Yagami found his beaten body appealing.

Hatred.

Some of the fear that had held him mute was pushed back by hatred. He hated Lord Yagami for being a sick, abusive bastard. The Lord had always seemed too friendly... too interested in him. He'd never touched him sexually in the past, but Yamato would have sworn that the older man had wanted to.

"Release me, this instant," Yamato insisted.

The Lord laughed. "You are no longer in any position to make demands. You breathe because I desire it to be so." He rested his attention on something above and behind Yamato. "Slavemaster, demonstrate."

A large hand crushed against his face and pulled him back against a solid wall of muscle. Yamato flailed his arms behind him wildly, hoping to strike his attacker, but his struggles were ineffective. The Slavemaster still held one hand over his face and one on his neck, and because of the angle, Yamato's arms beat with decreasing strength against the man's sides. Kicking with his feet and clawing at the hands holding him also proved useless.

He felt his pulse thunder in his skull. Dark stars ate away at the edges of his vision. Oblivion would come soon.

"Enough. Release him. My point has been made."

The Slavemaster pushed him roughly away and Yamato fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air.

"Now, don't you look the image of the panting slut? Straighten up and kneel prettily for me, my little doll."

The words upset him, but he didn't have the strength to respond. Muscular arms hauled him upright and once again retained a firm grip on his neck. Briefly, Yamato felt a twisted sense of gratitude that he had been forced to kneel -- he knew his legs wouldn't have been able to support him otherwise.

"Yes," Lord Yagami continued, musing to himself. "I believe that word suits you perfectly. Doll. Although it is customary to allow slaves to keep their given name, you are such an exceptional case that I feel justified in shirking tradition. Besides, 'Yamato' is a Lord's name. To call you as such sullies the very image of Lordship."

"Go to hell, Yagami," Yamato hissed. "You're a disgrace to humanity."

"No, that name doesn't suit you at all," the Lord continued on, as if Yamato had not spoken. "You are, however, very pretty and as your skin is almost like porcelain, I'll name you Ningyou. But I should point out that the people who will be playing with you are neither little, nor are they female." The Lord stood. "You are my slave, Ningyou. My personal slave."

There was no denying the meaning behind his words. Yamato was sickened by the idea of being made to submit and share the Lord's bed. And something else the man had said stuck in his mind, something that made his stomach churn violently. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't quell the stutter in his words. "W-What do you mean by playing?"

"Oh, I'm sure you can imagine what I mean. You have heard the rumors, after all, and I plan to make sure I get my money's worth out of you. The female bitches break too easily," the masked man remarked casually. "It doesn't stop me from using them, of course, but it makes me appreciate the toys that can stand up to all the rough usage I give them." The Lord took a step closer to the edge of the dais. "I am going to very much enjoy the time I spend playing with you, Ningyou. Once you have learned the pleasures of serving me, you'll enjoy our playtime together too."

Without preamble, Yamato vomited up the mush he'd eaten earlier.

Lord Yagami was down from the dais and had his hand out to strike him when, for some reason, the robed man pulled back suddenly and straightened. "Clean that mess up," the Lord growled instead. He spun on his heal and returned to his seat while Yamato focused on dealing with the dry heaves that shook his body. "And someone come and take my new doll to be bathed. It's gotten itself dirty."

Forcing himself to ignore his stomach for a moment, Yamato fixed a look of hatred on the Lord. "I will never serve you!" Yet the moment the words were out of his mouth, his confidence drained. Yamato shrunk back fearfully against the Slavemaster's solid presence.

Lord Yagami chuckled and settled more comfortably into his throne, propping his masked head on one fist. "Hmmm.... Your spirit amuses me. I'm in a lenient mood today. I don't know about the never, but I might be able to grant your request while still getting what I desire."

It was getting difficult to think. Residual acid was burning his throat. Panic and confusion hammered on his brain. "What?! What do you mean? I didn't make any request!"

The Lord chuckled. "The idea of me playing with you repulses you, does it not? So, clearly, your request was that I find someone else to play with you."

Yamato didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more terrified.

Why would he be doing this? Anybody other than Lord Yagami would be better, right? Nobody could possibly be worse, could they?

His curiosity stimulated, Yamato struggled away from the Slavemaster as far as he was permitted and resumed glaring at Lord Yagami.

"I think I might have the perfect plan. Yes... I think this is for the best. This little display that you've put on has shown me that you're not worthy to serve me. You require a bit of preliminary training before I can enjoy you to the fullest." He nodded, as if coming to a decision. "Instead of coming straight to my playroom, you, Ningyou, will first have the pleasure of serving my young protégé. He has been doing an exceptional job for me over the years."

"What, and you think I'll be a fitting reward?" Yamato spit back.

"On the contrary," Lord Yagami chuckled. "I think you'll make his life a living hell. The loss of his constant assistance, however, is a sacrifice I am quite willing to make. For although you may be unworthy of my direct attention at the moment, Ningyou, I hope to have you by my side in the future. Only a man of exceptional quality, like my protégé, will be able to teach you your new place in life. And without a doubt, you're living by my rules now." The Lord shifted his attention to the door behind him.

Feeling frozen from his skin to the marrow of his bones, Yamato gave no protest when an annoyed-looking red-head with a control watch ushered him toward the bathing room.

***

Lord Takeru...

Takeru groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow up to cover his head.

"Lord Takeru." The harsh whisper finally jolted him awake. "Lord, you must make haste to get ready."

Takeru scowled. "Why?" he demanded to know. "I've told you not to wake me when I'm sleeping in late. Why have you disobeyed me? Speak quickly before I decide to punish you."

The servant gulped and ducked his head in a bow. "I am very sorry that I was not able to obey your order, Lord Takeru. But, Lord, your honored father has come unexpectedly to see you. He says that you must be ready to leave this place permanently within the hour. We must dress you quickly and you must give your orders on what is to be packed."

Takeru blinked. He had dreamed that his father had come for him often enough. Was he still dreaming?

"I'm really leaving?"

The servant bowed again. "Yes, Lord. Very soon now."

Like he was sleepwalking, Takeru let the servant dress him, participating even less in the process than usual.

In the end, there had not been very much to pack. His files and favorite programs could be transmitted easily. The only unique item he cared to take with him was the photo he had of his mother.

The picture had been carefully tucked away inside his favorite hat and before he realized what was happening, Takeru was looking out the window of the transport bound for his father's fortress. The trip passed quickly.

Soon, one servant took his belongings to put away. Another led him down the maze-like corridors of the fortress. If it were not for the servant, Takeru would have soon become lost. In one large room that they passed through, there was a young boy chained to the wall. He looked very uncomfortable. Takeru wanted to ask the servant about the boy, who surely was a slave, but the servant politely ignored him and silently conducted him to his father's throne room.

Masaharu did not rise when Takeru stopped before him. Childishly, Takeru wanted to leap up onto the dais, run to his father, and give him a hug. He resisted the urge though, knowing his father would strongly disapprove.

Takeru bowed. "Greetings, Lord Father."

His father smiled charmingly. "Hello, my son. You've grown since I've seen you last. How old are you now?"

"I'm sixteen years old, Lord," Takeru told him proudly.

"Good, good. And tell me, Takeru, what do you think of me? Do you love me?"

Takeru was shocked. Why was his father asking him such a question? "Of course I love you, Lord. More than anyone else."

"Excellent."

"Forgive me, father, but why are you asking me such a thing?"

His father frowned. "Your older brother forgot his loyalties. I have stripped him of his rank and he is no longer living here. By my questioning, I was merely checking to see that you have remained as sweet as I have remembered you." Masaharu smiled at him. "I am glad to see that you have."

Takeru was happy. Not only was his father pleased to see him, but his horrible older brother was gone forever and he'd never even have to meet him. Takeru had been dreading meeting Yamato the entire trip over. With all the things his father had told him about his brother, Takeru doubted that they'd ever be able to get along.

Now that Yamato was gone, Takeru could be the favorite.

Masaharu stepped down from the dais and wrapped his arm around Takeru's shoulder. "Let me give you the tour of your new home, my son."

Takeru snuggled close to his father's side.

Life was good.

***

After a highly embarrassing walk from the baths to his "cell," Yamato was shoved into his room and the door was locked behind him. Cold and naked, he stalked to his mattress, relying on his anger to keep him warm. Although his room was much warmer than the bathing room or the corridors, he was still cold.

Stupid brat, protégé.

The man was a little short for a High Lord in-training, but what he lacked in height he made up in cruelty. The cold shower and bath had not been pleasant and the red-head had refused to give him any privacy. Furthermore, the little snot had been scowling and pissy, refusing to talk to Yamato except to barrage him with questions. The only time he had spoken a non-interrogative sentence was just as he was shoving him through the door. His snobbish voice saying "Just wait until later," echoed through Yamato's mind.

He's probably pissy 'cause I'm bigger than he is... In a lot of ways.

Still, the situation was no laughing matter. As a slave, Yamato had no rights and having a master with an inferiority complex could be very painful -- those types tended to be sadistic.

But at least for now he was being left alone.

Chilled and weary, Yamato did the only thing that he could. He closed his eyes, willed himself back to sleep, and hoped that when he awakened again, the events that he remembered would all be just a bad dream.

***

Much later, when he returned to the waking world, for a brief moment Yamato thought his wish had come true. Gentle hands were massaging his back and the pungent scent of medicinal cream tickled his nose. But then he opened his eyes and saw the same awful green carpet and bare walls.

The hands lifted away and Yamato shut his eyes tightly, hoping that the person would leave. He waited to hear the sound of footsteps moving away, but there was only the sound of their breathing.

"Come on, now. I saw you looking around," a warm male voice chided. "Now that you're awake, flip over so I can do your chest. I was told it's in much worse shape than your back. You know, you really shouldn't have been sleeping on it in the first place."

Yamato craned his neck around and peeked at the stranger. He was dressed in a long-sleeved navy-blue uniform. The crisply pressed clothing clashed with his broad smile, impish eyes, and unruly brown hair.

The man waggled a jar of cream for Yamato to see. "It'll help numb the pain," he tempted. The man's other hand was busy too.

Yamato flushed and fought the pressure from the soft fingers on his hip that was urging him to roll over. Yamato knew it was silly to worry about his state of dress in the presence of a medic, but the lack of any clothing was uncomfortable.

"Don't I get any clothes?" he asked in what he hoped wasn't a panicked voice.

"While you are in service to Lord Yagami, your position does not require clothing," the other explained calmly, then shrugged. "You might as well get used to it now." Their eyes met. "I promise to behave myself, so flip over and let me rub this on your chest."

Quit being silly, Yamato told himself firmly. It's just a medic. He won't hurt you. Just do it. If he was going to do something unpleasant to you, he would've done it already. Right?

Yamato gulped back his pride and uncertainties and did as he was asked.

"There we go." The brown-haired man beamed at him. "Let me know if I'm hurting you."

Still feeling exposed and vulnerable, Yamato merely nodded. The cream was cool, but quickly warmed against his skin, leaving behind a tingling sensation after it had been absorbed. After a period of studying the man tending to him, Yamato closed his eyes while the other worked -- the medic was just a little too attractive and in his unclothed state, any sort of reaction would be immediately noticeable.

While he was focusing on not enjoying the touch too much, the man's fingers pressed too hard on a sensitive rib. Yamato twitched, but stayed silent. Fingertips swirled the cream around more, then brushed over the area again. Rather than cry out in pain, he bit down on his lip.

"Did that hurt?" Fingers pressed on the spot again and Yamato winced.

"Just a bit," he admitted, daring to look up.

Brown eyes peered down at him. "I told you to let me know if I was hurting you," the medic said seriously.

Yamato shook his head. "You're just trying to help. Don't concern yourself with it." I'm sure that red-headed monster will make me suffer much worse. Why are they even bothering to treat my bruises anyway?

That was an idea worth pursuing. Yamato chewed his lip some more before deciding to speak his mind. "Not to sound ungrateful, but, are you sure you're supposed to be in here? I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for helping me."

There was silence for a moment and the medic's hands stilled. "You're concerned for me..." he softly realized aloud. "Thank you." A grin flashed over his features. "But you have no need to worry. I'm right where I should be."

Yamato smiled up at him. "I'm glad." Then his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "But it's strange, too. I had no idea the Lord would want me treated by a medic."

Taichi's brown eyes widened briefly. "You're probably right about that, since he didn't send one. Sit up for me. I need to wrap the bandage."

Yamato complied and the white gauze was wrapped around his torso.

Again, Yamato tried not to pay too much attention now that the smiling brunet was so close to him. But when he looked down, he noticed that the movements had caused the man's sleeve to ride up his arm, exposing a painfully familiar device wrapped around the man's wrist.

Yamato's whole body tensed. "That's a control watch," he said slowly. "You can't be a slave. Who are you?"

There was a flash of something, but the emotion was wiped from Taichi's face before Yamato could analyze what it was. "My name is Taichi. Lord Yagami's ordered me to teach you your place here."

Yamato shook his head slowly in disbelief. This meant that the red-head was just a... "You're the one who's in charge of me? And you're a Lord?" The non-medic-turned-Lord nodded. "And your name is Taichi?" Again, Lord Taichi mutely nodded. Yamato didn't know which surprised him more -- that the kind man was claiming to be the cruel Lord's protégé or that the man was using the Lord's dead son's name. "Taichi is Yagami's son's name and he's dead. I'm not a fool, so quit lying to me."

"I'm not lying." The Lord looked at him sharply, but his voice was steady. "You met Lord Yagami's son?" he queried.

Yamato paused to think. "No. I never did. He never came to the fortress and I rarely left the island. But that still doesn't explain who you are."

"I was born a year after the High Lord's son" the brunet answered. "That name was highly popular back at that time. It was just a coincidence that the High Lord happened to latch onto me after he died."

"So were you friends?" Oddly enough, Yamato wanted to know more about this unusual man that was his captor. He supposed the story about the name was plausible enough.

Taichi gave a small smile. "I guess you could say that. It's difficult for a Lord to keep friends."

Yamato nodded, thinking he understood. "My father didn't allow me to have friends either."

They looked at each other as the silence stretched. Both of them had said too much.

Taichi was the first to speak. "So, since we're getting to know each other better, it might help if I knew what to call you. What's your name?"

Yamato wasn't sure if this was a trick question or not. Lord Yagami had told him that he was now to be called 'Ningyou.' Was that the answer that Taichi was expecting? The wild brown hair and sparkling brown eyes made the strange man seem much too friendly and of too good a humor to be the favorite of Lord Yagami.

But, his mind cautioned, it's the ones that look the kindest that you have to look out for. Any Lord who tries to be your friend here only wants something from you. But still, maybe if he didn't fight or act rebellious, the man would continue to be gentle with him.

"Surely, you have a name?" Taichi prompted, pulling Yamato from his thoughts.

"I am called Ningyou," he said while looking at the carpet. Yamato shuddered, hating the word coming from his lips.

"Ah," Lord Taichi acknowledged. "Then, my Lord has already named you." Yamato looked up, wanting to see what this man thought of the dehumanizing name. "That's too bad," he said. "I would have chosen to call you something much different."

Although Yamato could see desire in the brown eyes, the Lord wasn't leering at him. That small fact made him feel more secure.

"You know, Ningyou," Taichi continued, looking at him intently from where he sat on the mattress, "We might be able to make this an easier situation for you. If you had information to offer or something else..." His gaze dropped to the blond's uncovered lap before returning to meet Yamato's eyes. "...equally valuable... you might be rewarded."

The security that had comforted him just moments ago evaporated in a flash, boiled off by rage. He didn't care that he was in a strange fortress, he didn't care that he was without clothing, he just wanted out of that room.

"Bastard!" he hissed. Yamato shoved the Lord squarely in the chest, sending him to the carpet. He had taken no more than a few scrambled steps toward the door when a hand gripped his ankle and he went sprawling to the ground.

The pain caused by falling on his bruised chest was terrible and even though Yamato knew that he needed to move to defend himself, all he could do was wrap his arms about his ribs and whimper.

Taichi was standing over him in a second.

"Please..." Yamato moved one hand protectively to his throat, as if flesh could block the signal to the necklace that would send him pain. "Don't..." He hated how he whimpered the words. "Please don't..." He hated how he was cowering and begging. But he couldn't take any more pain. "Please. It hurts so badly already."

When he finally looked at his captor, Taichi's brow was creased with worry. The brunet sank to his knees, reaching out for Yamato. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean--" He cut himself off, but the words had come so quickly from the brunet's mouth that their sincerity couldn't be doubted. Brown eyes widened, then squeezed shut, and Taichi turned away to face the wall.

Yamato stared up at his broad back, unsure of what was going on. He apologized? Why won't he look at me?

When the Lord finally turned back around, there was no trace of emotion left in his face. "Come on," he uttered tonelessly. "Back to the bed. You wouldn't like it out there, anyway."

Yamato hesitated. He couldn't fully believe that Taichi wouldn't punish him.

Instead of causing more pain, Taichi lifted him and deposited him on the mattress. Yamato huddled himself into the corner the moment he was free.

"Hold still, Ningyou," Taichi ordered. "You've knocked your bandage loose." Yamato felt the man's hands on his back and shied away from the touch, shrinking farther into the corner. The man repeated himself, and although it was still an irritated order, for some reason, he didn't raise his voice. "I said hold still."

Yamato obeyed, but it was more because of a lack of unoccupied corner than out of any real will or desire to obey. As the Lord fixed the bandage, Yamato talked to fill the silence, hoping to appease the Lord by answering his original question.

"I know nothing. My father was too much of a control freak to let me know anything of true importance. I've been confined to the fortress for almost every moment of my life. If anything, I know my father and I know that he would have seen to it that any codes to the fortress that I knew were changed within ten minutes of him knocking me unconscious." He looked away from the Lord. "As for anything else valuable--"

The Lord cut him off. "As for anything else, you've already made your decision." Softly, he turned Yamato's head so that they were looking at each other. "I know it's a poor excuse, but I was required to offer you that option. I wouldn't have done so otherwise." He studied the carpet. "I'm not permitted to apologize for causing you further injury, especially when you were trying to escape, but..." He looked deeply into blue eyes.

"But," Yamato repeated in agreement, accepting that single word for the apology that it was supposed to be.

Taichi knelt on the floor at the edge of the mattress.

"How is it that you're Yagami's protégé?" Yamato asked, moving away from the corner.

"I haven't thought about it much. It just sort of happened after he died. I guess that I wanted to be like Yagami, that I liked his power and the respect that people give him."

"What kind of powerful man needs to use the threat of pain to keep people under control? And how can people truly give respect if they're under control?" Yamato was expecting a cuff for that remark, but he glared into the brown eyes, determined not to flinch.

"You have a point. Turn over." The Lord simply stared at him when Yamato didn't move. "If I was going to hurt you, I would have done so already."

Hesitantly, Yamato obeyed. One hand was threaded through his hair, holding it away from his skin. The collar pressed into his neck while the Lord fiddled with it. Moments later, the hinged halves sprang apart. Yamato craned his neck around and watched as Taichi took off the collar and snapped it shut again on empty air.

"You removed it," the blond said disbelievingly. "Even after I tried to attack you... Why?"

Taichi was smiling softly at him. "Like I said, you had a point," he answered slowly. "There are other ways besides inflicting pain that will get me what I want."

"What is it that you want from me?" Yamato whispered.

"The same thing that my Master wants. I want you to learn the way of life around here. I want you to be comfortable here, to feel like you belong."

"You want me to submit." Yamato refused to let himself feel pain as his hope that Taichi was truly kind died. It was a foolish thing to believe anyways. "I already said no. You're worse than he is. You've been kind and gentle with me, but the whole while you've been setting me up to defeat myself. You're worse than vile. I'll never le--"

Taichi moved to sit on the edge of the mattress and his finger hovered over Yamato's lips without touching them. Yamato fell silent.

"There are other ways that you could fit in here." the Lord said, tracing the air just millimeters over Yamato's lips. "I doubt even Lord Yagami has realized them all. But I can see that you have great potential."

Yamato turned his head aside. The movement caused the finger to brush against his face, leaving a burning ache in its path. He pushed the feeling aside. "I won't let you take advantage of me," Yamato said fiercely. "Now, back off." If Taichi came any closer, Yamato would attack him again, despite the pain. He was in no condition to fight off the bulkier man, but at least he would give it his best try.

But there was no need for Yamato to put his bravery to the test. Without argument, Taichi scooted backwards off the mattress, putting the most distance between them since Yamato had awoken. "I wouldn't want it to be that way."

Since Taichi had accepted that boundary, Yamato felt a bit bolder and he voiced the question that had been bothering him since early this morning. "Why aren't I in a cell?"

"Although I am to teach you the ways of this fortress, Lord Yagami still requires me to fulfill all of my duties," Taichi answered. "Therefore, he has created a special set of rooms to keep you in that are close to my own."

"There's more than one room?" Yamato asked, surprised.

"I'll be showing you the other one later." For a brief moment Yamato was scared. He didn't want to think about what was in that other room. It must have shown on his face, for Taichi continued, "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Lord Yagami merely agreed with my suggestion that you would be more appealing if you had access to weights and books. Lord Yagami likes to see his slaves strong in both body and mind. He likes them to have spirit in their fight. He says that they're more fun that way."

Images of unwilling bed-partners cowering before the dark-cloaked Lord conjured in his head. "Yeah, I'll bet he does," Yamato said bitterly.

Taichi reached forward and stroked a lock of hair out of Yamato's eyes. The blond flinched away, but Taichi kept the contact. "Hey," he said huskily. "Don't worry about him. I know it might not be much comfort, but you're exclusively mine until your training's complete. And I can stretch it out for a while."

As Taichi's hand caressed the side of his face, Yamato found that thinking was becoming more difficult with each passing second. He knew he should be upset, repulsed, angry. He knew that he should hate that his captor was making him feel this way, but... "You've never hurt me," he murmured half to himself. "You've always been gentle." Their eyes met and they moved closer together. "If it was you, I..." The words trailed off as Yamato became unsure of what exactly he was offering.

"Ningyou-" Taichi began, but he stopped himself and sighed. "Enough of this. It's silly," he muttered.

Yamato's eyes widened at the hurtful words. "Fine then," he said quickly, jerking his head away from the soft hand. "Quit being nice. Just do whatever you're going to do already." He cursed himself for trembling.

The hand rested on his shoulder, warm against his skin, chasing the shiver away. "That's not what I meant. You didn't let me finish," Taichi whispered. "For all your beauty, you're not a doll. It's silly to call you that. I want to know your real name."

The hand returned to tracing the features of his face. "Yamato," the blond found himself saying quietly.

"Hn," Taichi smiled. "It's still not what I would call you, but it'll do."

"What would you call me?" Yamato asked, curious now that the Lord had said it twice.

The brunet shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. Ask me again, some other time. Right now, I think you've had a long day. You should rest and heal." Taichi leaned closer. "Goodnight..." His kiss, a fluttering brush against Yamato's cheek, offered warmth and claimed nothing in return. "...Yamato."

Seconds later, the door was closed and locked. Sitting on the mattress, Yamato let his head fall back against the wall for support.

Taichi... He kissed me, called me by my name, and left? Taichi kissed me on the cheek and left.

It doesn't make sense. I know I shouldn't trust him. I can't trust him, but...

He wants me, yet, even though he had the opportunity, he didn't try to take me.

It could all just be a sick, twisted game to get close to me, in order to hurt me later on.

But his touches felt so genuine. He didn't seem like a monstrous person who was pretending to be kind. It was almost like he cared and was trying to stop himself from revealing too much.

But he can't care about me. No one does. He doesn't even know me. It's impossible.

Logic was telling him that it was a trap. Self-preservation urged him to make a plan, to scheme, to think of a way to take advantage of the situation. His tingling ribs tried to lull him to sleep. And when he lay back on the mattress, it was with that last intent that he closed his eyes -- only to see a face with sparkling brown eyes smiling back at him from the inside of his mind.

Taichi...

For hours, try as he might to let his weary body lapse back into sleep, Yamato couldn't tear his thoughts away from the memory of warm, gentle lips brushing against his cheek.


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



Added Chapter 2: 02-22-03

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