Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ These Fine Things of Heaven and Earth ❯ Forked Tongues ( Chapter 7 )

These Fine Things of Heaven and Earth

By: Vain 10/16/2001-

------------------ & ------------------

I only own Tanuki-kun, Hanamura-sensei, and the plot-everything else belongs to Toei, Bandai, and / or *shudder* Fox Kids.

This story has yoai, shounen-ai, and mature themes including self-mutilation, psychological and emotional abuse, general angst, and one lemon scene-meaning that the rating will go up.

Special thank you's are extended to Herongale for beta-ing and letting me bounce ideas off her and Raptor-kun, Jekka-chan, and PeaceKeeper A for listening to me fuss with plot at 2 am on a weeknight.

This all takes place one year after the episode "The Crest of Kindness," and while Ken does have Wormmon, he did not go looking for his heart, nor has he had any contact with the Digidestined since his defeat. Please keep in mind that Taichi -is- OOC at times; there's was just no real way around it, though. Consider it artistic license.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::: PLEASE REVIEW :::::::::::::::::::::::::::

And keep in mind that all homophobic flamers who think that I'm gonna burn in hell for this will be laughed at and probably sent a particularly nasty response that will be published on various ml's, regular flamers will be ignored, and all reviewers will be cherished for the wonderful people that you truly are.

Enjoy the fic.

------------------ & ------------------

"What are losses . . . and words of honor? . . . All nonsense!

One might kill and rob and yet be happy . . ."

~Leo Tolstoy

War and Peace

------------- & -------------

Chapter Seven:

Forked Tongues

------------------ & ------------------

[A/N1: The church in this chapter is the Tokyo Church of Christ-externally hideous and internally stunningly beautiful. Or so it seems-I can't back that up first hand. If you care, here's a link to see for yourself: http://www.intlcc.com/tokyo/e/ewelcome.html

[AN2: This chapter is dedicated to Tri-san, my fiftieth review for TFToHaE and the person who wanted to see Yama "grow some balls and beat some sense into Tai." Whoo-hoo! ^_~ Thanks for the reviews and may the beating commence!!]

------------------ & ------------------

The mug was placed on the table with unnecessary force, making a loud bang. When this elicited no response, Ken briefly toyed with idea of bludgeoning his companion with the ceramic, but discarded the thought almost immediately. "Well? We've been here for almost an hour. What do you want?"

"You really shouldn't drink cappuccino; you're high strung enough as it is." Taichi took a final, noisy slurp of his milkshake and sat back, his brown eyes shining with faint amusement. "You know what your problem is, Ken?"

"Oh, please enlighten me, Yagami."

The older teen snorted faintly and poked idly at the strawberries in the bottom of his cup. He propped himself up on one elbow and stared into the cup, intentionally ignoring the seething boy across from him as he spoke. "You keep too much in."

Ken opened his mouth and then closed it again. He blinked in confusion before he remembered to be annoyed. "What?"

"You heard me." Taichi stabbed a strawberry with his straw. "You keep too much inside. You never talk about what's bothering you-what's hurting you."

"What are you nattering about? Nothing's hurting me."

Tai looked up and smiled. "Bullshit," he replied cheerily. "Something's obviously hurting you, or you wouldn't be hurting everyone else. You lash out to keep people away. No people, no pain. You're afraid."

"You are so full of it." Ken settled back in the booth and ran a hand back through his hair. He lidded his eyes slightly, giving him the appearance of a somewhat drowsy snake. "Maybe I act like an asshole because I am an asshole, you ever think of that?"

"Yep." Taichi removed the straw and pointed it at Ken. A glob of mashed up strawberries and melted ice cream hit the table with a splat. "You didn't look like an asshole to me after that soccer game. You looked like a kid who just got the buhjeezus scared out of him."

Ken paled and turned scarlet.

"Relax," Tai said soothingly before the boy could snap at him. They looked into one another's eyes for a moment before the older teen looked away. He laid his hands flat on the table in a slow measured motion and stared at the backs of them. "Do you know why I'm doing this, Ken?"

The boy looked at him warily for a moment before crossing his arms and pulling back into himself. "No. That's why I came, remember?" He didn't come to prove Yagami wrong, to prove that he wasn't afraid of him. He didn't.

Tai was still staring at his hands. "What I did to you after the game . . . I did it to scare the hell out of you."

Ken scowled, but held his tongue as Taichi continued. "You just looked so . . . you. So frickin' cold and untouchable. I got sick of it. Every time I see you on TV or somewhere it's like you're made out of plastic with that same smile always stuck on your face. I wanted to do something that I knew would make you really feel something . . . I guess I just figured that that would rattle you."

He looked up to see how Ken was taking his words, but the flat, cold expression in his companion's eyes gave nothing away. Resisting the urge to bite his lip, he pressed on. If he didn't get the kid hooked now, this entire thing was gonna blow up in his face. "At least, that's how it started . . . and then . . ." he leaned forward earnestly and startled Ken by suddenly reaching up and tenderly cupping his cheek in his hand, "and then I just couldn't get you out of my head."

Ken's eyes flickered and Taichi almost smirked. Sora had been right. Ken wasn't used to dealing with people who weren't yelling at him, smothering him, or shoving papers, cameras, or soccer balls in his face. Tenderness-true compassionate tenderness-was not something that his life experience had left his equipped to deal with. Taichi was approaching him in a way he had never known before . . . And that meant that he was vulnerable.

When the boy didn't make any attempt to move away from him, Tai moved closer and dropped his voice to whisper. "So I went to see you at school to convince myself it was nothing and that I was imagining things . . . but then I saw you sitting there . . . looking so small . . . And I couldn't. Because I knew that it was more than my imagination."

Tai was halfway standing now and he leaned closer to Ken over the table, indecently close. He noticed with distracted amusement that the boy's eyes were slightly glazed and he could taste the cappuccino Ken had just finished as the boy's soft, panting breaths brushed his lips. Tai leaned forward just a bit more so that his lips brushed Ken's ever so slightly as he spoke. "You're so beautiful when you're angry, Ken-chan . . ."

He leaned forward just a little bit more and . . .

Ken jerked back so quickly that he knocked the wind out of himself when his back hit the booth. They stared at one another, Tai's eyes deep and luminous and Ken's wide and frightened above a delicate rose-tinted blush, and the only thing that could be heard for a moment was the paler boy's deep, hungry gasps. No one had seen them.

Tai sat back and looked down at the leather of his seat. "I'm sorry. I forgot myself."

"I'm going to be late." Ken stood mechanically and pulled out his wallet out of his pocket. A gentle hand reached out and caught him as he removed the wallet. Ken looked up and felt a muscle in his jaw clench. "Let me go, Yagami."

The other teen tightened his grip. "Give me a chance, Ken. Please."

"To what?" the pale boy hissed as he yanked his hand of Tai's. He tossed some money on the table. It was more than enough yen to cover their tab. "To what? To be your partner in some freakish, perverted, faggot sex ritual?!"

Several heads in the cafe turned around in surprise. Neither teen noticed.

Taichi stood his ground. "No. To be your friend. To-"

"I don't need any friends!"

The taller boy narrowed his eyes and Ken suddenly felt very, very small. He felt like he did sometimes in the stairwell-like he was so tiny a breath could crush him and his bones were made of glass and if he moved to soon he'd break into a thousand tiny pieces and he wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Taichi as humanly possible and-

"Please?"

It was only one little word and Ken would never know why or how he was swayed by it, but something in it made Ken hurt. The pain was different from the normal emptiness he felt and he knew that this could not be cut away or ignored or avoided. He looked away.

"Fine."

He hated himself for saying it as soon as he opened his mouth, but didn't dare retract it. He didn't want to see that odd look in Taichi's eyes again or feel that crushing feeling anymore.

A gentle hand reached over and Tai cupped Ken's chin, forcing him to look up at him. He smiled at the boy. "Thank you."

He dropped his hand and turned around to get his coat. Ken stared after him blankly for a moment. Something had just happened there . . . something important . . . He just didn't know what yet.

His watch beeped, startling him. It was 5:00. If he wasn't home for dinner soon, his mother would have fits. The boy snorted softly under his breath. Home, then dinner, then visit Wormmon, then homework. He had an extra-credit project due next week that he hadn't even begun.

Taichi's smile widened as Ken turned his back to him. "So . . ." The younger teen stiffened at the sound of his voice. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

The dark-haired boy turned and scowled. "Tomorrow?"

"Yep!"

Ken's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I have things to do."

"Like what?" the older boy asked in a disturbingly upbeat voice.

"Avoid you."

Taichi's face fell. "Did you already forget your promise? Besides, that pale face of your looks like it could stand to smile once in a while. Meet me at the park in Tamachi at four thirty?"

Ken frowned. "Look, Yagami, I-"

"Great!" Taichi winked at Ken. "It'll be a blast."

And then the other boy dashed past Ken and out into the faded daylight. Ken stared after him perplexedly for a moment and briefly entertained the idea of not going at all, but then shook his head. "I'm sure that I deserve this on some cosmic level," he snarled softly to himself.

Besides, it wasn't as though he really had anything to do tomorrow. Yagami was an interesting break from the monotony. It certainly wasn't because he was curious to see the other boy.

Certainly not.

As Ken stepped out onto the sidewalk he couldn't help but look up and down the street for a distinctive bush of brown hair, but the Child of Courage was long gone. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Nothing, he told himself firmly. After all . . . Yagami was only an interesting diversion. Another player in a pointless masquerade. He was only curious to see where things would go from here.

And it had nothing to do with Yagami himself.

Nothing.

------------- & -------------

His father wasn't home-wouldn't be home for hours, his mother told him. This naturally transformed dinner into a forty-five minute long torture session during which Rika slid him sidelong glances when she thought he wasn't looking. He was always looking though. Even staring down and mashing up his rice with the dull, tapered edge of his chopsticks, he could feel her eyes on him.

They had neither spoken nor been alone since Hanamura's last visit. She seemed even more frightened of him and he . . . Well, he had never really had anything to say to her anyway. She wasn't worth his time.

Especially since he was replaying this afternoon with Taichi over and over again in his mind. He picked at the memory like an itchy scab, analyzing it for any error, anything he might have missed, for anything that would help him figure out Yagami Taichi. Even the slightest hint that would tell him . . . why. Why Yagami could provoke him. Why Yagami could read him. Why Yagami could . . . arouse him?

The boy had never been able to do anything like that before. So what was different now?

Nothing, he reiterated silently. This all means nothing. I am in control. Yagami has no hold over me. Never mind that he tastes like syrup and butterscotch. Never mind that he smells like autumn air.

Never mind that when he touched Ken, it felt like stars sliding under his skin. That was all tactile-physical. There was no power in that beyond momentary illusion and immediate satiation. Ken was maddeningly patient when it came to such things. And the idea that he was in some way looking forward to it or could ever possibly need or desire it was simply ludicrous. He was Ichijouji Ken, damnit.

This was only a passing amusement. Nothing more.

So then why can't you stop thinking about him?

"Because he tastes good," the boy murmured so softly that he was unaware he had even spoken.

Rika's head snapped up and she leaned forward almost eagerly. "Did you say something, Ken, dear?"

He turned to her slowly, without lifting his head, so that he was staring at her sideways and one delicate hand convulsively clutched at the chopstick between his fingers.

The petite woman jerked back suddenly as though the look in his eyes burned her.

"No." His voice was flat and he remained still for a long minute, not even blinking, simply staring at her as though he'd like to ram those nervously grasped chopsticks into her skull. She bit her lips and pulled back even more, almost cringing in her chair.

"I . . ."

The boy stood, his chair scraping roughly on the wooden floor as it slid out behind him. The sound was loud and jarring in the tense silence. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Whatever brilliant response she no doubt made to that was lost to him as he made his way down the hall to his room with slow, deliberate steps.

It was getting closer and closer every time. He'd almost done it that time. He'd almost shoved those chopsticks into her eye sockets. The need to do something was absolutely overwhelming. The Need To Harm. It ached inside him.

Ken was only vaguely aware of the sound of chopsticks slipping out of his numb fingers to clatter to the ground as he stretched open his fingers to grasp the doorknob.

What the fuck am I doing?

The door shut behind him with a muffled thump. He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of his door, pressing his forehead against the cool wood and listening to the sound of his breathing. His thoughts had begun to move faster than he could hold onto them and he knew that he was getting a headache.

The boy pushed himself off the door, walked across the room and opened his closet. He stripped off his jacket and undershirt and then stood up on his tiptoes, reached up to the top shelf and fumbled around for a moment before his questing finger brushed across the back edge of a razor blade. He retrieved the metal and paused, staring at himself in the mirror.

"What the hell are you doing, Ichijouji?" Ken stared into his own eyes and tried to calm his thoughts again. "Just what the hell are getting yourself into?"

Without looking away, he slowly slid the blade over the soft, pale skin on his belly. A small line appeared and then quickly filled with red. He watched as his reflection cocked its head to the side and watched the cut fill and bleed over so that a small red stream flowed down his stomach. Sometimes, if he stared into the mirror long enough, he could pretend that he wasn't Ichijouji Ken. For just an instant he could pretend that he was someone else watching that stupid, stupid, stupid little boy lie, and deceive, and hack himself up every night.

He drew a second line across his skin with the razor. It was a long cut, but very shallow. It probably wouldn't even scar.

He smiled at himself. He was getting good at this-too good. He could barely feel the pain. A third cut was made, this one much deeper than the two that preceded it. Blood flowed instantly, and a crisp, harsh pain went through him, radiating outward and burning through the haze in his head. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, an expression somewhere near ecstasy on his face.

A fourth cut.

His thoughts were so much clearer now . . . He didn't even know what he had been so upset over. Stupid Ken-chan. Stupid Yagami. Stupid parents. He had been right in what he had told Tanuki. What was it all for? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Ken cut himself a final time and let the razor slip from between his bloodied fingers. He would have to sterilize it and clean the carpet later. For now though, he simply wanted to bask in the pleasant afterglow of the pain.

His legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed bonelessly to the floor. The pale youth smiled an empty, frightening smile and stared up at ceiling with glassy eyes. He ran his fingers absently over the marks on his stomach, pressing down hard to increase the pain. He was so very tired . . .

"Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing . . ." It was a statement. It was a prayer. It was a litany he repeated over and over and over again until the pain faded into the same familiar ache and the words themselves were merely meaningless noises that he didn't understand and didn't know how to stop.

------------- & -------------

Tanuki eyed his friend with a dark frown of displeasure as Ken removed his cleats and pulled on his boots. The dark-haired boy ignored him until the Coon decided to start throwing things at him. A tube of toothpaste became airborne, quickly followed by a wet towel and a stopwatch. One of their teammates had the misfortune of walking past at that moment and narrowly missed getting smacked by an incoming set of keys.

Ken looked up as a shoe hit the wall just over his left shoulder. "What?"

The other teen scowled. "What, he says to me. What!" The pale youth pulled on a pair of jeans with a sharp, jerking motion. "You've been avoiding me."

Ken stood and pulled out a comb. He closed his eyes and, tilting his head to the side, began to detangle his long damp hair. "Rat, if I were avoiding you it would mean that I cared if I saw you." He opened his eyes and tilted his head the other way to detangle the other side. "I don't care."

The American snorted derisively. "Don't be such an ass, Ken."

"I've always been an ass, Rat. Now why are you throwing things at me?"

"Because you've been avoiding me!" the paler boy snapped.

"Mmmm . . ." Hair detangled to his satisfaction, Ken cracked his neck and then sat down on the bench again, a bored expression on his face. "Didn't we just cover that?"

Tanuki looked away. "What happened to you at that game?"

"Game?"

"Yes." He looked back up and his eyes were unusually piercing. "That game against Odaiba. You've been acting . . . off. And I'm not the only one who sees it."

The Japanese boy sighed heavily. "Nothing. And why should I care what anyone else thinks? Or what you think for that matter?"

"Now you're just being snarky." Tanuki scowled and turned away again.

For a moment neither teen said anything, then the Coon stood and stretched, a look of sudden determination on his face.

Ken leaned back lazily. "It's not your concern anyway, Rat. I am quite capable of handling myself."

"No," the other boy stated flatly. "You're not."

Ken stiffened and his eyes flashed briefly with an unidentifiable emotion. "Really?" he murmured almost inaudibly. The silence that followed held the promise of violence.

Tanuki averted his eyes from the cold gaze and scrubbed a hand back through his short hair. "I want you to come with me."

Ken scowled. "What? Now?"

Tanuki nodded. His hard carved features were unusually unanimated, his customary smirk and belligerent attitude nowhere in sight. "I want you to come with me because I want to show you something."

Ken frowned warily. "Show me what?"

Suddenly the boy smirked, but it was not at all comforting. "The face of God." Tanuki held out his hand. "Come on."

------------- & -------------

"This is a church?"

Tanuki nodded.

It was church-an enormous, bulky, angular church. Ken blinked and tilted his head back to stare at the front of the building. It consisted entirely of square glass windows, over 152 in all, and hung forebodingly over the glass entrance to the place like a broad sloping forehead. The left side of the building was incongruent with the boxy front, a strange half glass, half concrete attempt at a parallelogram. The parallelogram had been cut in half, the bottom part was the glass and the top part was concrete. A large cross that seemed to be pasted haphazardly to the concrete part stabbed at the sky in an almost offensive fashion. The building was, in Ken's opinion, hideous. It reeked of modernity to the extent of blasphemy and something about it made him cringe inside.

The Coon grinned. "It's supposed to be an architectural masterpiece. Or so they say."

Ken cocked his head to the side and wrinkled his nose, giving his white-haired friend an odd look. "I didn't know you were a Christian, Rat." He said the word "Christian" with disgust.

The other boy gave him a sly grin and his eyes twinkled almost mischievously. "I'm not. I just like to let my parents think that." He winked. "It makes my life a whole lot easier." He grabbed Ken's wrist and briskly set off towards the building, dragging the dark-haired youth forward. "Let's go then."

Ken frowned, but allowed the indiscretion. "Isn't it closed?"

The other boy only turned and smirked cheekily.

Ken's eyes narrowed. "Rat . . ."

"Oh, relax, mon capitain!" the other boy said airily. "I have a key."

"Why?"

Large blue eyes turned and batted innocently at his friend. "Now, Ken m'dear, don't you trust me?"

The shorter teen scowled faintly. "You stole the key and made copies of it?"

Tanuki's smirk took on a slightly gleeful look. "Of course."

"The security system-"

"Is useless," the white-haired youth countered. "Now stop dragging your heels."

Ken frowned, but complied. Tanuki marched up to the doors confidently and removed a large ring that held at least twenty five keys of varying size and shape. Still smiling, the teen chose one, a medium size key with a red label on it, and slid it into the lock and turned it. Seconds later, the doors swung open.

He stepped aside and allowed Ken to peer through the open glass doors into the lobby. His smile was cruel and mocking as he gestured expansively to the waiting building. "After you, mon cher Ichijouji-SAN."

Violet eyes flickered briefly as though a wisp of smoke crossed them and Ken stepped forward. Laughing to himself, Tanuki followed and closed and locked the doors behind them.

------------- & -------------

The blond frowned at the taller boy sprawled out on his couch. Taichi ignored him and turned a page in his Politics book.

"Tai-kun?"

Silence.

"Taichi? . . . Taichi!"

Large brown eyes crinkled at the corners as the wild-haired teen looked up with a scowl. "What-chi?!" he snapped impatiently.

Yamato frowned as he took in the scowl on his sometimes-lover's face. "I talked to Sora."

Brown eyes narrowed and the darker teen turned back to his book. "So?"

"Stop this. Please? While there's still time-"

"Would you just let go of it?!" The book slammed shut with a snap and Taichi sat up and rubbed his eyes in exasperation. "Damnit, Yama . . . I thought you needed to study . . . Isn't that why I'm here?"

Yamato pushed himself out of his chair and dropped to the ground in front Taichi. "This . . . thing with Ichijouji . . . You have to stop it!"

Tai frowned at the ground beside his friend. "Sora told you what I said then? And what she told me?"

The blond nodded.

"Did you tell her the truth?"

"And would it have made a difference if I did?"

Taichi said nothing.

"Goddamnit! You have to stop this! It isn't right! Toying with him like this isn't right!" Yamato placed his hands on Taichi's knees and leaned forward earnestly, his blue eyes pleading with the other boy. "I saw you at the Starbucks, Tai. And I know that you've met up with him since then. Several times."

"You followed me." It was not a question.

Yamato ignored him. "I saw him, Taichi. I saw the look on his face."

"And?"

"And, yes, goddamnit, your stupid little farce is working! You cannot go all the way with this!"

Taichi slowly raised his head and his deep brown eyes settled on Yamato's face. The musician felt a chill run through him. The look on Taichi's face . . . It was something he'd never seen on the taller boy before. Emptiness. A swirling vortex of vacant hunger, of want, that made his blood run cold.

Yamato swallowed hard and shied back, frightened. "Taichi-kun . . ."

"And why not?" Taichi smiled, but the expression was only macabre, splitting his face in two unnaturally. "Will you stop me, Yamato-chan?"

They stared at one another for a moment, the stillness oppressive.

"You're losing it . . ." Yamato's voice was only a whisper, but it seemed obscenely loud.

Taichi laughed at him. The sound was so heartbreakingly familiar that Yama found tears rising in his eyes as it slipped out from between the other boy's lips. "Jealous?"

Slender alabaster hands clenched. "He's going to fall in love with you!" the blond hissed. "How can you be so casual about this? How can you be so fucking cruel?"

Taichi's face instantly transformed into a snarl and he leaned so far forward it looked as though he was about to fall off the couch. "Because he deserves it!!" he roared.

"Idiot!" Yamato snapped. He lunged forward, grabbed Taichi's shoulders, and shook the stronger boy hard. "Fucking idiot! Let him go!"

Taichi pushed off the couch, sending them both sprawling on the ground. Yamato groaned as his shoulder hit the corner of the coffee table. He reached up and grabbed a handful of Taichi's hair twisting it painfully and forcing the larger teen to curl over to his side to avoid having a large chunk of his hair torn out. Yamato rolled over after him to straddle his hips and punched the boy in the stomach, a glancing blow. Tai gasped slightly.

The blond dodged a fist and got clipped on his shoulder. The other fist smashed into his face. The blow was weak, but he could already feel his left eye throb painfully. The smaller teen responded in kind and hit Taichi in mouth, quickly followed by two more hits in the gut for good measure. Tai let loose a small, strangled scream and he crunched upwards, his knees hitting Yamato in the shoulder blades and his hands immediately going to his stomach and he attempted to curl into a fetal position.

Yamato pulled a fist back to hit him if he tried to move again, but Taichi simply shuddered beneath him for a moment before relaxing against the soft white carpet. His lower lip was split and swollen and a bruise was forming on his chin. Yamato would have bet money that his stomach was bruised too.

He stared down at his friend's face and felt something like despair well up in him. Blue eyes fluttered shut and he bent down, pressing his face in the hollow of Taichi's neck. Neither was aware of the tears that slid down his flushed cheeks to mingle with Tai's blood and sweat.

The two of them lay gasping, both drawing in slow, shaky breaths that didn't seem to contain enough air.

"I won't forgive you," he suddenly rasped softly into Taichi's damp skin.

Taichi tensed.

"If you do this . . . I won't forgive it, Tai-kun. Not ever." The blond sat up and his eyes were red. A slowly darkening smudge marred the pale skin below his left eye.

"Yamato . . ."

"Not ever!" he insisted fiercely.

". . . Get off me." There was no tone or inflection in Tai's voice. It was flat and empty like his eyes. Like Ken's eyes.

Yamato swallowed and felt tears stinging the edges of his eyes. "Taichi-"

Taichi looked away. "Get. Off. Of. Me."

The blond slowly stood up and stumbled dejectedly back over to his chair. He said nothing as Taichi gathered his books and silently shoved them into his backpack. It was only after the other boy was gone that he became aware of the tears sliding down his cheeks.

When his father came home he found him curled up on the chair in the dark, sobbing quietly and, for the life of him, Yamato couldn't find the words to tell him why.

------------- & -------------

It was only upon entering the enormous main room of the church that Ken understood why this building was considered beautiful. The entire back wall was glass, row upon row of windows that bathed the pews in golden sunlight. Tiny lights were suspended from the ceiling, resembling stars more than conventional lighting, and the altar in front of the windows appeared to literally glow. Not a religious person himself, the indigo-haired boy could not help but feel a twinge of reverence.

He walked forward, the sound of his boots echoing weirdly off the white walls like thunder.

"It's gorgeous, isn't it?" Tanuki asked from somewhere behind him. He could almost hear the smirk in the paler boy's voice. "An architectural masterpiece. Or so they say."

Ken's eyes lingered on the golden glow of the altar and he lifted a hand slightly as though to reach out and touch it. The movement was so small he didn't even register it. "Why did you bring me here, Rat?"

There was no reply.

"Tanuki . . .?"

Silence.

The grating sound was the only warning he had and it was only his incredible speed that stopped him from getting the top of his head smashed in. He threw himself to the side, twisting as he fell, the side of his shoulder clipping the high sides of one of the congregation pews. The light flashed off the silver candlestick holder as it slammed hard into the arm of the pew. Ken rolled over to the center of the aisle and stared up at his friend for a moment.

Tanuki straightened and held the candleholder up, a slightly outraged look on his face. "Aluminum." He held the bent metal up for Ken to see. "It's made out of aluminum."

The white-haired boy shrugged and raised the three pronged apparatus above his head again to bring it down on the slightly smaller boy.

"Rat!" Ken rolled to his feet as the dented metal hit the floor he had been laying on moments ago.

After dropping into a brief lunge stance to prep himself while Tanuki recovered, Ken whirled around and kicked the candleholder out of his friend's hands. It flew off into the pews where it landed with a loud bang.

Tanuki rushed him and they both fell to the hard floor with a grunt. Stars exploded behind Ken's eyes as his skull cracked on the marble surface. He felt a heavy weight straddle his stomach and hands grab his wrists and pin them to the ground.

"Get off of me, Rat!"

"Shhh, Ken-chan."

The dark-haired boy pulled his knees up sharply, hitting the other teen in the back and forcing him to pitch forward. Tanuki growled as his grip slackened.

"Goddamnit!"

Ken twisted, rolling over onto his stomach, and tried to wriggle out from under him. His vision swam sickeningly as sharp pains radiated from his shoulder. Strong hands grabbed at his belt and jerked him back. He groaned as his hands made strained shrieking sounds as they slid against the floor in an attempt to find purchase. The boy tried to buck as Tanuki's weight came to rest on the backs of his knees, trapping his legs and preventing him from kicking the other boy again.

"Bastard," he hissed in frustration. Waves of pain rose up behind his eyes.

"Hush," Tanuki whispered, sounding breathless. He grabbed Ken's flailing arms and successfully managed to pin his friend's wrists securely behind his back, forcing them up so that his shoulders and elbows jerked painfully beneath the strain of the unnatural position.

"Bastard!" Ken snapped louder. He bit his lip in rage and frustration. "I'm going to kill you."

Tanuki cracked his neck and frowned down at the back of Ken's head. "That was pathetic. Now what's going on with you?"

Ken sneered at the floor. "None of your damn business. Get off of me, Rat!"

"Tell me what's going on, or make me get off of you," Tanuki responded coldly. "You've been . . . off for too long for me to ignore. Now fess the fuck up."

Groaning at the futility of his position, Ken jerked his arms again. "Why should you care?"

"I'm bored."

"You're pathetic!"

Tanuki jerked his arms painfully in warning. "Ichijouji!"

"Pathetic," the boy sneered again. He turned his head to the right so that Tanuki could see half of his face. His eyes glittered feverishly. "You're pathetic and a coward," he hissed, saliva hitting the floor as he tried unsuccessfully to swallow. "And if you don't let me up right now, I swear I'll kill you."

"Liar. You wouldn't dare."

Ken smirked. "You have no idea what I'm capable of, Rat. Now get off of me; you're starting to bore me."

For a moment the taller boy was still, his gem-like eyes glittering in the light as he stared deep into Ken's violet ones. Then he released Ken's wrists and stood.

Ken rolled over and licked his lips, eyes locked on the other boy. He wiped the saliva off his mouth. Tanuki stared at him defiantly.

"Why did you bring me here, Rat?"

A twisted smile contorted the other's narrow mouth. "To show you something."

Ken took a step towards him, his hair falling into his face. "And what exactly is that?"

"How do you feel right now, Ken?" Tanuki took a step towards him and reached up to tenderly cup a hot porcelain cheek. "Do you feel it?"

Ken jerked away from his touch and sneered. "Feel what?"

"Like you've just had your wings ripped off," he whispered in an almost hungry tone.

Ken laughed darkly. "I lost my wings a long time ago, Tanuki."

"So why struggle? Why fight me?"

"Because you don't get to do that to me!" he snapped, a hint of his famously uncontrollable temper coloring his voice. "You don't make that choice for me! I decide when I drop out of the game, no one else!"

And Tanuki smiled.

For several minutes Ken stared at him with narrowed eyes. "You're such a fool. A sad, pathetic fool."

"Perhaps," the other boy agreed with a supercilious smirk and a shrug, "but I'm all you have."

Ken smirked and then punched the other boy hard in the gut.

The Coon grunted in pain and folded to the ground, gasping for air. Ken realized that he was actually trying to laugh.

The indigo-haired boy allowed himself a hard smile that would have made anyone else's blood run cold. "I suppose it's better than nothing then." He turned and walked out, his footsteps oddly quiet in the large room, mere whispers in comparison with their earlier thunder.

Behind him, Tanuki crouched down on the floor with his hands cradling his stomach and laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks.