Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ To Fight for Life and Love ❯ Chapter 10 ( Chapter 10 )

But Ken was not in the right mood. He had descended into a black rage.

His vision tunneled, and the world around him glossed over in a deep crimson. The air seemed unusually thick even as he tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart. A crack echoed through the room as his fist connected solidly with the thick door, but in the haze of his anger, Ken felt no pain. Massaging the tickling sensation out of his knuckles, the brunet fell down onto the chair beside Omi's bed with a deep growl. Omi had fallen asleep once more and was oblivious to the feelings tearing through his friend.

A shudder claimed Ken's body as he breathed deeply. His vision cleared enough that he was able to clearly gaze at the sleeping blonde. As carefully as possible, Ken reached out and wrapped his good fingers around Omi's hand. Sighing a wordless mumble, the slave turned in his sleep, frowning when the shift caused him pain. Keeping a carefully neutral expression on his face, Ken stood just enough so he was able to move Omi into a more comfortable position. Calloused fingers slid easily through wheat blond hair in an attempt to comfort the unconscious boy.

Slowly, Ken eased away from Omi and sat back down on his chair. Balling his hands together, the brunet rested his chin on his fists, his eyes closing halfway as he drifted off. Almost too quick for Ken to catch, a memory flashed before his eyes, startling to awareness. With a jerk, the ex-gladiator woke up, throwing his arms before him to steady himself.

It couldn't be... A cold rage burned through Ken's body, his teeth clenching reflexively. The sheets he had been gripping began to tear, unnoticed by the brunet. Hot tears ran unchecked down the man's face as he clenched his eyes shut.

It can't be - it's not true!

His body racked with silent sobs, Ken fell to his knees, burying his head in the sheets surrounding Omi. Ran had just been… had just… and Ken had let him leave! It was a scathing insult to the brunet that the aristocrat might have gotten away with hurting Omi so badly. He just…

Choking on his breath, Ken's sorrow and helplessness swirled, spiraling into an even deeper rage. Ran would not get away with this - no, not as long as Ken still lived.

Releasing his hold on Omi's sheets, Ken stood quickly, the chair he had been sitting on hitting the floor with a sharp clatter. He gazed at the blonde tenderly for a moment, reaching out to brush some stray bangs off the boy's face. Placing a hesitant kiss on Omi's lips, Ken strode out of the room, his resolve hardening with every step.

Ran would pay. One way or another, Ran would pay.

The light hurt. Groaning at the pain behind his eyes, Omi attempted to roll over, only to find that it hurt more when he moved. The door clicked shut, the sound nearly lost in the morning's bustle. Licking his lips, Omi forced his eyes open and looked around the room.

"Ken?" His voice cracked and he licked his lips again. He felt so dry. Carefully, he lifted his hand and rubbed at his face.

The door slid open and started him, his breath catching in his throat as red hair appeared in the doorway. The world spun and fell in on Omi, trapping and confining him in place. Then, as suddenly as it happened, his panic dissipated. Erica stepped into the room carrying a tray with food covering a good portion of it.

"Omi, you're awake." She spoke softly, a weak smile lifting her lips. "How do you feel?"

"Horrible," Omi replied, closing his eyes slowly, letting the woman check some of his bandages. Cracking one eye open, Omi watched as Erica, somewhat slowly, prepared his food. "Erica, what's wrong?"

The red head kept her back to the slave as she continued her task. "It's nothing, Omi. Just a little tired. You know how it is."

Gasping from pain, Omi tried to sit up only to fall back onto the bed, his eyes closing in humiliation. He countered from his prone position. "That's not the truth."

Erica spoke nothing in reply. Sighing, Omi shifted so he could glance around the room once more.

…And that was when it suddenly occurred to him. "Where's Ken?"

The blonde missed how the woman's back tensed. "He went out."

Omi frowned at the response, clearly not happy about being left alone. "Where'd he go?" the boy mused out loud.

"I don't know," Erica replied evenly. "But-he... looked fairly mad."

Omi paused rubbing his eyes as the new information sunk in. Where would Ken go if he was mad? And why was he mad? Letting his eyes wander to the window, the answer hit Omi quite hard.

Revenge.

But why would Ken do that? Why would he go after an aristocrat? It couldn't be true; it wasn't true! How would he know?!

…Did he know?

Either way, Omi wouldn't allow it to happen. He wouldn't allow Ken to risk his life for such a stupid reason!

Determined, the blonde attempted to rise from the bed. In a cry of pain, he fell back onto the mattress only to have Erica fuss over him. Tears streamed down his face as he shook his head back and forth, futilely struggling to escape the woman's grasp. "Ken! Ken! Ken!"

Biting his lip, Omi closed his eyes in helplessness. He threw his head back as he cried out one last time in desperation.

"KEN!!"

The noise from the city market was a pleasant background buzz to the two men's lunch. Stretching languorously across the silken pillows, Youji nibbled on an olive. Ran carefully poured more wine into the blonde's goblet before topping his own off. A strained companionable silence hung in the air between the two as they ate slowly.

Licking a few crumbs off his finger, Youji reached for his wine casually. "I have some news that might interest you, Ran."

One thin eyebrow arched as the aristocrat cast his eyes toward his friend for a brief moment. There was a delicate pause as Ran sipped his wine. With a soft 'clink', the goblet was placed back on the table. "And what news would that be?"

"My protégé, as you call him," Youji waved his hand dramatically as if he was announcing a great lord, "won his freedom at the tournament. Or so I'm told. It must have been a great fight to have seen."

A non-committal grunt issued from Ran as he picked up the wine jug, and topped off Youji's untouched cup. The blonde frowned at the action and ignored the drink.

"What did you think of it? Was it a truly great fight?" Youji's eyes searched his friend's face. Ran inspected his drink, sipping it slowly..

"Why weren't you at the games this time? I find it hard that you would willingly miss such a chance to gloat." Ran kept his gaze solidly away from Youji's questioning eyes. The aristocrat took great pains to make certain he exuded calm indifference, all the while fervently praying Youji would take the ill-concealed bait.

"I had business with some slave traders." Only after he had said this did Youji touch the wine before him. In one gulp, he nearly drained half the goblet. "Many of my best fighters have either bought their freedom or died this year. I've been looking for some replacements and also some bestiarii as well. They're becoming more popular and it's necessary to start training some."

Youji gulped down another portion of his wine, pinching his nose at the sudden rush of alcohol. For one brief moment, Ran allowed his eyes to slide in Youji's direction; this time, Youji caught the red head's gaze. The two men battled with their eyes silently, as they civilly continued with their conversation.

"But tell me, Ran," Youji started, more forcefully this time, "what was the fight like?"

Ran broke the gaze first, turning to the window as he lifted the cup to his lips.

Blood pounded fiercely through Ken's body, his anger increasing with each heartbeat. Adrenaline coursed through him, quickening his breathing and making his body tremble. His fingers dung into his palms, a dull pain that the brunet ignored. It became harder and harder for him to think straight; each thought starting with Omi and each one ending in blood only to return once more to the blonde. Ken shook his head sharply as trying to stop the chaotic thoughts.

"Omi's been hurt bad!"
...blood... blood on the knife...
"...winning your freedom..."
"Omi! Look at me! Omi!"
"...be fine... only suffered from bruises."
Dark red... blood everywhere... covering everything
"Omi... Omi's been hurt bad!"

"Aaahhh!" Old wood splintered under the force of Ken's punch, the cracking muffled by the noise of the market. Ken gripped the side of the barrel tightly as he panted heavily. Minutes later he tore his fist out of the shattered wood. Silently, tears ran down the boy's face unchecked, unnoticed by the gladiator.

"Dammit. Fucking bastard. The gods damn him!" Bloody spots marred the barrel as Ken's fingers tore under the pressure of his grip. "Omi... to hurt Omi - I can't forgive him! I'll never forgive him for Omi."

"Someone help! Omi...Omi's been hurt bad!"

"Ahhh!" The abused barrel finally broke as Ken's fist smashed into it once more. Rubbing his hand gently, Ken shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of protest as well as the cries for attention.

'For what you've done...' Ken glanced at his hand, barely recognizing it as his own. He ignored the pain as he fisted the hand once more.

"Omi's been hurt bad!"

'For what you've done...' Staring at the bloody fist, Ken mistook the blood for Ran's. A mad smile curled his lips. '...I'll kill you.'

'What's going on, Ran? You're hiding from me, and I want to know why.' Carelessly, Youji sloshed some of his wine onto the table as he set down his cup. Swiping his hand over the spill, the blonde laughed, thoughtlessly wiping his hand on his tunic. Flopping back against the couch, Youji let his head fall to the side; his gaze traveled out a nearby window and towards the sky.

"Heeeeeey... Ran?" Youji slurred, scratching his neck casually. His eyes flickered to the aristocrat for a moment before turning back to the harmless sky. "Why don't you talk about the fight? I just wanna know what ya thought."

The pitch of the blonde's voice rose just high enough to add the nuance of a whine to the question. Ran remained immobile, staring that the drink his cup. Gracefully, as if to mock Youji's earlier actions, Ran lifted the cup to his lips, taking a brief sip; the glass was placed on the table with a soft clink, not a single drop spilled.

"I don't see why you're so interested," Ran replied, tracing the edge of the cup delicately. "One of your gladiators has won his freedom; shouldn't that be enough?"

Youji's jaw clenched imperceptibly tighter. Fighting to remain relaxed, the blonde stretched, groaning loudly before slumping back against his seat. 'You're avoiding me again,' he thought as he let his head slump to the side, allowing him to watch Ran more easily. 'I won't let you.'

"I just thought that you would know. I mean, the gladiator you were so interested in /did/ win his freedom." Youji knew he had gotten somewhere when Ran's shoulders stiffened. "I thought that might've meant something to you."

Hard violet locked onto deep green. Irritation was radiating from the aristocrat as his jaw muscles worked quickly.

Youji held the gaze, not willing to give in any more to his friend.

"So tell me, Ran. What was so important that you forgot the fight?"

Lazily, Ken stared at the sword leveled at him. Following the weapon, he turned his gaze on the guard holding it. A growl began low in his throat, forcing its way passed his lips. Brown eyes darkened, nearly becoming black. Ken moved to step away from the sword and continue his path; but the guard seemed to be just as determined to keep Ken out as Ken was to get in.

"Let me through." The brunet's voice was a husky whisper, barely loud enough to be heard.

The guard didn't move, undaunted by the ex-gladiator. "Unless you have a reason to speak to the lord, you are not allowed to pass."

Ken's hair fell across his face as he tilted his head; his eyes narrowed. "I have a reason. Let me pass."

Still, the guard held firm. "We have not received any notice of your visit. If the lord were expecting you -"

A low, coarse laugh interrupted the guard. Ken's head dipped forward so his hair covered his face; his body began to tremble. "You think that'll stop me? You think this," blood dripped down the blade and onto the ground as the brunet grabbed the sword, "is enough to stop me?"

With a hard twist, Ken pulled the weapon from the guard's hold as he rushed the man. With one swift jab, Ken's fist connected with the guard's head with a loud crack. Without regard to the fallen man, Ken stepped over the body and continued on his way. The guard's sword sliced carelessly through the air as Ken worked his arm.

'I won't let you get away.' A smile worked its way onto the ex-gladiators face as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Quickly wiping the blood from his cut hand, Ken gripped the sword and continued at his own pace. 'I'll kill you right here if I have to.'

With a growl, Ken shook his head to dispel the images threatening to overwhelm him. Blood dripped down the handle of the sword as the brunet's shoulders began to shake. Unnoticed tears shook loose from his eyes onto the dirty ground beneath him as Ken rounded the next corner sharply, ready to take on the guards he knew lay in wait.

"I don't believe you." Sighing in impatience, Youji leaned back against his seat trying to maintain his calm image. He knew it was slipping. "When you say that the fight didn't interest you, I know you're lying. Ran, I know you. Ever since that boy started..."

"Ken," Ran interrupted smoothly, pouring himself more wine. "That boy's name is Ken."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Youji shouted, tired of playing politics with his friend. "You know his name, come to visit him when he was injured - followed us to towns, just to watch him fight! And you want to tell me that the battle that won him his freedom 'didn't interest you that greatly'! That's bullshit!"

The red head's eyes narrowed as they turned on the blonde. Pale fingers gripped the sides of the plush chair as Ran attempted to rise. Ran paused as the sound of metal hitting metal and shouting increased rapidly. The doors to the room trembled for a moment, causing the aristocrat to frown in distaste.

Raising an eyebrow, Youji glanced at his companion before walking towards the doors. Not even a foot away from the table, the shouting rose again and the doors shook even more violently.

Barely a moment later, the doors flung open, a dozen men flooding immediately into the open space. Ran stood stiffly as his guards blocked his view, a number of them drawing their swords as if for battle. The impromptu wall thinned slowly, allowing the two men a glimpse of the person trapped.

Ken seemed to dance around the circle of men, fending off blows as he struck out, scoring a few of his own. He dodged one sword, just to spin on his heel, come around and strike another guard. His hair was plastered to his forehead, sweat mingling with a streak of blood lining his face. Lifting his sword to block a blow, he simultaneously hopped over another spear, neatly landing on it, and snapped the spearhead off. The gladiator's teeth were bared, his features both wild and terrifying.

Ran stepped forward, rising to his full height as he addressed his guards.

"Do not harm him! Guards! Stand down!" Dutifully, the men backed down. Their weapons, however, remained trained on the enraged gladiator.

Ken watched the guards warily, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he adopted a defensive stance. Dark eyes scanned the room, only stopping when they spotted the aristocrat. Snarling, Ken launched himself forward, his sword dropping as the guards rushed to block him.

"You! Bastards! Let me go!! I'll kill you, you bastard! Let me go!!" Ken grappled at the men's armor, nearly spitting with rage.

Ran looked on indifferently while Youji just stared, unable to believe what he was seeing. Blinking slowly, the blonde turned to his friend with the intent of finding someone equally as confused as he was. His mind changed gears, however, when he spotted the aristocrat calmly standing before the raging gladiator as though it were an everyday occurrence. Glancing quickly between Ran and Ken, Youji began to realize that something beyond his knowledge had taken place.

Youji backed away from the scene, looking on solemnly.

Stepping forward, Ran dismissed all of his guards, except for the two still restraining Ken. The ex-gladiator seemed to have calmed down, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. The young man's breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tensed when Ran approached.

Carefully, the red head approached Ken. Once he was within a few feet of the ex-gladiator, Ran stopped and held up his hand as if to motion the guards away.

"If I let you go, will you promise not to attack me?" Ken growled at the older man, his fists clenched tightly at his side. After a moment, he stepped back without a word.

The guards were dismissed with a wave of the hand, clanking loudly as they exited the room. Ran's eyes did not leave Ken the whole time. With a gentle swish of his robes, the aristocrat returned to his seat and motioned for the younger man to follow. "Please sit. It seems there's much you want to talk about."

"I'd rather stand." Ran raised a questioning eye to the brunet but said nothing.

A thickness hung in the air as the aristocrat calmly poured a third glass of wine and offered it to the gladiator. Ken eyed the glass for a moment before returning a hardened gaze to Ran. The wine was ignored.

"What is it you'd like to discuss?" A breeze drifted through the room, playing with the men's hair. Ken inhaled deeply, stretching his fingers at his side.

"Omi." The turn of conversation piqued Youji's attention. Omi was the name of one of his slaves - the same one he had given to Ken, if memory served him right. Thin eyebrows knitted together as Youji raised a hand to rub thoughtfully at his chin.

"Omi?" Ran spoke slowly and softly, tilting his head in thought. "Is that someone's name? A friend of yours, perhaps? I'm sorry, but I don't believe I can be of any help to you."

In a flash, the brunet had lunged across the table, knocking over plates, glasses and jars in a maniacal attempt to reach the aristocrat. The sound of shattering glass alerted the guards stationed outside, and the door opened to allow one man in. Youji waved the man back frantically, not sure if he was more worried about Ran or Ken's safety.

Calmly, Ran glanced down at the hand grabbing his robes. His eyes traveled up the length of the arm, glided over a shoulder and stopped only once they rested upon the gladiator's face. Ken's eyes had turned dark, nearly black, with rage.

"You bastard." Ken's voice was filled with ill-concealed hatred, his body shaking from being restrained. "You had no right. You may not remember him so easily, but I am sure that he remembers you - the man that nearly murdered him."

Nothing seemed to be making much sense to Youji. After Ken's glorious entrance - taking out three of the aristocrat's guards, the blonde noted with a bit of pride - Ran had not seen fit to have him arrested or thrown out. Instead, the man had invited the former gladiator into his room for a drink. Even after being physically threatened by the brunet, Ran still made no move to have the boy removed from his house.

And Ken! Youji had absolutely no clue what had gotten the normally placid fighter so livid. The boy seemed to have thrown all caution out of the window, intent only on doing the aristocrat harm.

Obviously, something had happened of which Youji was still unaware. And if that something had to do with his school and gladiators, then...

"I'll kill you for that." Reality crashed down hard as Ken's words were ground out through clenched teeth.

Ran responded only by slowly quirking an eyebrow as he carefully removed the other's hands from his robe.

Youji just stared dumbfounded, jaw slack with disbelief.

/That idiot!

"Ken!" Unable to remain silent any longer, Youji slammed his glass down on the table, staring at Ken in disbelief. "The man you are threatening is an aristocrat. Gladiator or not, you cannot threaten him so easily -"

"I don't care." Ken's focus had remained on Ran during Youji's interruption. "I don't care if this guy's some aristocrat. I don't give a fuck who he is. For what he did to Omi, I'll kill him."

A small shock shook Youji at Ken's accusation. If what he said was true, then Ran had tried to murder one of Youji's slaves. Yes, it may have been common practice with a few aristocrats and others, but Youji was not so inclined to waste his slaves and money.

These were people under his protection. Youji opened his mouth to speak once more, but was stopped instead by his friend this time.

"Youji." Ran didn't divert his eyes from Ken's face. "I would ask you to leave us for a moment. It seems there are some things that we must discuss."

"Why?"

Sparing a brief glance at his friend, Ran frowned. Youji hadn't moved. Instead, he remained in the exact same spot he had been before, hands clenched tightly on the table. If he wasn't careful, he would probably cut himself and bleed.

That wasn't a prospect Ran liked.

"I asked you to leave us. We can speak some other time."

"Gods be damned! Ran, you have no right to-"

"Youji! Leave us immediately." The demand was impersonal, effectively cutting off his reply.

Gritting his teeth, Youji rose and stalked out of the room, brushing past the aristocrat as he left. Through Youji normally counted Ran as a close friend - as close as aristocrats would be to someone as himself - this would be the last offense.

Ran had taken too many liberties with Youji and his school. The man was forgetting where his place was in their society.

And Youji had no intention of helping the aristocrat once he fell.

The door closed with a resounding bang.

Before Ran had a chance to touch Ken's hands once more, the younger man had released the aristocrat's robes and moved a fair distance away. Suppressing his growing ire, Ran carefully sat back down, moving some of the scattered dished to the side. Two unharmed wine glasses were produced and filled with drink.

"It seems that you are quite fond of this person - Omi." One glass was placed before Ken. He refused this cup as well and remained standing.

"My fondness," the word came out as a sneer, "for him is none of your concern."

"I think it would be, since you are here to kill me because of him." There was a moment of tense silence as the two men looked at each other. Ken's hands flexed at his sides; Ran motioned to the glass before Ken as he raised his own to his lips. "Drink."

"I didn't come here for-"

"Drink. If we are to discuss anything, then-" Ran was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering. Tilting his head to the side, he watched as wine slowly spread across the floor, glass shards reflecting on the surface.

Narrowed eyes turned on the ex-gladiator as Ran stood.

Ken readied himself for an attack, his breath catching in his throat as his heart thudded painfully in his chest. His hand itched for the feel of a sword; sadly, the room lacked the proper equipment for the sort of fight Ken desired.

Rather than attacking, however, Ran brought out a new glass, and proceeded to fill it with wine. This one, he handed to the younger man, keeping his face carefully void of any expression. "I don't care if you're angry, but try not to break my things."

It felt as if his blood had iced over. Ken felt a strange buzzing sensation in his head just as everything around him seemed to grow dark. Then, in a sudden rush, his blood began to move again, running hot through his veins. From that point on, everything became confusing.

What Ken was certain of was that he had wanted to hurt the aristocrat, to slowly torture the man, and revel in his yelps of pain. But Ken did not remember moving - and he didn't remember trying to punch the bastard aristocrat, either.

What he did remember was hitting the floor - hard. And the feeling of something pressing down on him. Suddenly, it became hard to breathe and little pinpricks of pain shot up across his back. Instinctively, Ken stopped fighting and tried to save his breath and energy.

Taking a few deep breaths, more in an attempt to calm himself than an effort to breathe, Ken slowly opened his eyes to find Ran hovering over him. The feel of the arm across his neck was quite distinct and though Ken was able to throw off his opponent, he decided to wait. Better to lull the enemy into a false sense of security.

Their faces were so close that their mingled breaths ruffled each other's hair. The proximity only caused the hatred Ken felt to double back on itself and form a burning knot in his throat. He felt the other's eyes on him; a hard stare that made his hair rise on end. That stare... it made Ken feel as if he was a slave again, nothing but a piece of property to be coveted and passed on when no longer useful. It was a feeling he had grown to hate more than anything.

"Why," Ran's question fluttered over Ken's cheek, causing him to flinch involuntarily, "should you care for something so beneath you? A slave; nothing more than property that is bought and sold without concern. You are a gladiator, and have more power than even -"

Ran broke off quickly, as if suddenly aware that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. His eyes flickered over Ken's face, searching for something it seemed. "You made great achievements. Performed feats beyond most. You had, and still have, the people's support. It is a strong thing, that support, and you could go far with it."

Ken shuddered, aware that a hand, Ran's hand, was on his face, fingers flitting over his skin in a touch too intimate. He battled for control on his anger, breathing deep and quick, closing his eyes to block out this suddenly strange world. The fingers stopped moving but did not leave the man's face.

"How strange. Most times, anger changes the face into something hideous. Some say a true mirror of the person. How strange that you look..." The sentence trailed off, Ran's voice becoming nothing more than a murmur. "You fascinate me. For so long."

"Fuck you!" Ken spat, resuming his struggles against red head. "For what you did... I'll kill you!"

The threat was received with a hard stare. Ran watched Ken fight, leaning down on his throat when Ken's struggles became more focused. With his other hand, Ran wove his fingers through Ken's hair, pulling back hard. Dispassionately, the aristocrat heard the solid thump of Ken's head hitting the floor.

"He was a slave."

Was. Not is, was. Ran had wanted to kill Omi; had thought he had killed Omi -

Everything coalesced in perfect clarity at that instant. The noise of the people outside sounded as loud as if he were in that mob himself; light bounced off of glass and marble, giving everything a misty halo of light. The spilt wine filled the air with a sickeningly sweet scent. All Ken could see, hear, or care about was the man hovering over him, the man that spoke so casually about a slave's life as if it were of no great matter to anyone.

In one swift movement, Ken caught Ran's hand, and tore it from Ran's unwelcome caress of his face. He received a sort of perverse enjoyment at watching the aristocrat wince in pain, eyes narrowing as they flickered to his hand.

Grinning savagely, Ken leaned toward the aristocrat, close enough that their faces just barely touched.

"I'll fucking kill you."

"Ah... ahahAHH!! ...Owwwww..." Omi hobbled over to the table, nearly running the last few feet that he did not fall. Wearily, he leaned against the cool surface, panting as he forced the pain away. It had taken him hours to be able to do even this much. And it still wasn't enough.

Tears of frustration pricked his eyes as he considered his helplessness. Because of his weakness, his stupidity, he had gotten himself into this situation. He should have known better, tried to fight back or even run. Scream. But no. He had been so scared and... stupid!

"AH!!" Omi cradled the hand that had just punched the table. Stupid!

It was his own fault he got hurt and now it was his fault that Ken was... was... something! It didn't matter what Ken was doing but Omi knew it had to be his fault. And it would be his fault if Ken got hurt. Or died, a small part of Omi just had to think of the worst. But, it was true. It would be -

A loud creak sounded in the room, cutting his self-recriminations off mid-thought. Twisting around, Omi lost his balance and fell sideways, grabbing onto a chair to stop his fall. He was quite surprised when a pair of arms wrapped around him, halting his descent.

"You shouldn't be moving, Omi. You need to rest."

Ken, Omi sighed in relief, going lax in his friends hold. A moment later he was twisting around, shouting.

"What were you doing? You're so stupid! Why did you leave? Where did you go, you idiot?! Do you have any idea how worried I was? What if you had gotten killed!? It would have been my fault and I couldn't take that. You're so stupid and reckless and you don't think, do you? What was so damn important?!" Omi yelled, his good arm flailing outward to smack some semblance of sense into his thickskulled friend.

Gently, Ken wrapped his arms around his friend, letting him scream and hit as much as he wanted. It took a while, but Omi finally calmed down enough that Ken was able to maneuver him toward the bed. With a firm hand, he pushed Omi down, making him sit and rest.

But that didn't stop Omi from continuing his tirade. "Just because you're a gladiator doesn't mean you get to do stupid stuff all the time! Don't you ever think about things before you do them? Do you ever think that something just might be a stupid idea and you shouldn't do it? Or do you just assume you can fight your way out of it? You're stupid. And reckless and don't care that I might be worried and I hope you get yourself killed one day cause then you'll realize I'm right and I hate it when you do that! Don't do it again. Never again." The last part of Omi's impromptu speech was nothing more than a whisper, garbled in tears of frustration and anger.

Ken decided to wait a moment longer, wanting Omi to calm down before his next tirade. Which... Ken was more or less certain would come. Not letting go of the blonde, Ken began a quick and very glossed-over recount of his visit to the aristocrat.

"He had no right to hurt you, Omi. And he shouldn't get away with it." Ken could feel Omi's mounting protest, and realized it would be best to nip it in the bud. "I don't think he should get away with it and I won't let him. I'm going to fight him, Omi. I'm going to fight him and I'm going to kill him."

"No!" Omi shouted, vainly attempting to pull out of Ken's grip. "No! I won't let you do something so stupid! He's an aristocrat. He can do this if he wants to. Why would you risk your life for something so worthless?"

While Ken thought he could counter every one of Omi's arguments, the last one stung him deeply. Resentment replaced his previously felt anger: resentment at the lives they had been forced to live, resentment at the fact that people just accepted this. Ken shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Omi, I'm free now so I can do whatever I want with my life."

"If you're free, that gives you even more reason not to waste it. Ken, don't be so stubborn!" Omi glared at his friend, anger and hopelessness mixing oddly in his stomach. Stupid, stupid gladiator! Stupid Ken! Why couldn't he just understand? "Why the hell would you do something so stupid? Your death would mean nothing."

"Youji." "Ahhhh, Ken. What can I do for you?" "I have... something to ask of you." "Hmmm? All right, I'll hear you out." "I'm going to fight that aristocrat... your friend." "So I heard.... Some advice, Ken? "That's not what I'm asking for." "It's free, take it anyway. I think you're stupid for doing this. Ran is an aristocrat and is allowed a certain amount of freedom and power over the people. Fighting him for a personal reason would be suicide, even if you somehow manage to win. Whatever happened to make you want to kill him, just let it go." "I can't do that." "Ahh... I sorta thought that. So, what do you want?" "Omi." "...excuse me?" "If I win, I want you to release Omi. If I am going to risk my life, I want to make sure that he won't be hurt again." "...freeing him won't guarantee that." "I don't really care. It's better than him staying here, getting beat up all the time. I want you to free Omi." "..." "That's all." "...all right. If you win, he's yours." "I dun want him. Just free him." "He's a slave, Ken. I give him to you, what happens after that is up to you." "...Done."

Slowly, Omi rose and struggled to the table once more. His nails dug into the wood, shoulders tense as he kept his back to Ken. "Think about it. Don't get yourself killed for something stupid."

The small fire flickered, casting the room in strange shadows. Ken watched Omi's back intently, studying the boy's outline in the dim light. The light played against Omi's skin, sometimes straying on the darkening bandages, sometimes highlighting his skin in reds and oranges. Ken took the time to etch the image in his mind before rising.

With painstaking hesitance, he wrapped his arms around Omi's waist and rested his forehead against the boy's shoulder. He could feel Omi breathe; hear his heartbeat, strong and steady. The cloth bunched beneath his arms, Omi's exposed skin cool to his touch. Breathing deeply, Ken caught the odd earthy scent that was distinctly Omi. Probably from working outside so much, he thought distantly.

"Why?" Omi asked once more, voice neither wavering nor betraying any signs of his feelings.

"Because..." Ken stopped, unsure of himself. "Because..."

He had no reason to hide it anymore.

"Because, Omi. Because I... love you."