Balls Fic - Part II

[pixxers]

Continuation of crackfic. Christ this thing is long. :O



***

Three hours and a bottle of cheap rum later, the heavy fog clouding his brain began to dissipate when he became aware of the frantic pounding at his front door.

"Sensei! Please open the door!"

Shaking himself awake, Kite shifted to one side on the sofa and pressed one hand to his forehead, ignoring the empty bottle that rolled off the sofa and across the floor. He recognized the voice, but only just, and grimaced when he stood.

"Coming, coming. Hold on."

His head was throbbing, but he knew it was due more to the position in which he'd fallen asleep than to the alcohol that had so enticed him to nap in the first place.

"Sensei!"

Hirakoba.

He opened the door, shocked when the boy pushed his way inside, wrapped his arms around Kite's waist and dragged him away from the window.

"What?" Kite began, seeing headlights on the wall as a car circled in front of the house. "Hirakoba-kun?"

"Some guys were following me," Hirakoba said, breathless. "I was driving around outside your house and this black car pulled up behind me - going real slow - and when I tried to speed up, they'd keep up with me. I dumped my scooter at the curb and one of them opened the door and tried to grab me."

Touching the boy's shoulder lightly, Kite backed him up a bit and turned to look outside. Hirakoba grabbed at his shirt. "No! They had guns!"

Kite squeezed his wrist to reassure him and turned off the light inside so that he could see out into the darkness. "There's no one there now, Hirakoba-kun. They must have given up."

"Sensei," Hirakoba murmured, moving closer and seeking closeness. "One of them said your name. They must have been here for you."

Kite laughed humorlessly and drew Hirakoba away from the window and down the hallway where, if anyone were lurking outside, no one could see in. "What were you doing here, anyway? It's bad enough that you ride around on that scooter when I know you're not old enough, but to be out after dark on a school night? What gives?"

Hirakoba frowned and followed Kite into a guest room. "I'm not a child."

Kite yawned, sat down on the futon. "Yeah, you are. And you didn't answer my question."

"You're not really a teacher, are you?" Hirakoba asked, sitting down cross-legged on the tatami just at Kite's feet.

"You know, you should be a lawyer, kid," Kite said, wishing he had a cigarette and that he hadn't emptied that whole bottle of rum. "You don't know how to give a straight answer."

"Maybe you're just not asking questions that interest me," the boy challenged, smiling now despite the scare he'd just had.

Kite tipped his head. "Is that right?"

"I saw your woman leave," Hirakoba said quietly. "Looked pretty permanent to me."

"How long have you been tailing me?"

"Since you left school," Hirakoba admitted. "I saw you leave with that guy, you know. I would have given you a ride. And when we got here, I saw your lady packed up and ready to go."

Kite looked away, lamenting his loss of dignity, of focus, of normalcy. Hirakoba continued.

"She was pretty. You must be sad."

Kite shrugged. "It's not that simple."

"I mean," Hirakoba began. "I can't pretend I'm not glad. I was afraid you'd never be free to look at me."

Kite looked at him sharply, suddenly, and though Hirakoba blushed under such intense scrutiny, he didn't look away.

"I'm not looking at you now," Kite told him. "You're my student."

"No, I'm not," Hirakoba said. "I've already said I don't think you're a teacher at all."

"I don't really care what you think, ki-"

"You're different here than you are at school," Hirakoba interrupted, scooting forward and looking up at Kite earnestly. "Can I see your dragon?"

Laughing, Kite leaned back on his hands and gazed down at Hirakoba. The kid watched too many gangster movies, he was sure of it. "What are you talking about?"

"So I guess you're not going to tell me," Hirakoba said, somehow managing to appear forlorn and petulant at once. "All your secrets. What you really are. What you're all about."

"No," Kite said, wanting to touch the boy's shiny hair, but not daring to initiate something that he had no intention of following through on. "I'm not."

"Then," the boy paused, licking his lips nervously and seeming to bolster his courage as he scooted close enough to brush Kite's leg with his arm. "Will you do it with me? Since you're single now?"

Blinking in surprise, Kite tried not to notice the blush on Hirakoba's cheeks and the way his voice wavered when he spoke. "I know you probably still love her, but I'm not dumb, okay? I know the score, I do. I just...I won't expect anything from you."

He trailed off, picking at the mat he sat on and fidgeting a little. Kite watched him, not unaffected by his earnest desire and teenaged impatience. Hirakoba was endearing, likable, sweet. He was dangerous.

"Hirakoba-kun," he began, wishing he could treat the situation casually so as not to embarrass the boy, but unable to mask the regret in his voice. "You don't even know me. I'm fifteen years older than you. I'm not what you want."

"You are," Hirakoba insisted quietly. "I don't want a girl. And I don't want a boy. I want..." he faltered, swallowing audibly. "I want a man."

"You'll regret it," Kite told him firmly. "We can't have a relationship - it would never work."

"It's my regret to have," Hirakoba returned quickly.

Kite sighed; the kid wasn't going to take no for an answer. Not easily, in any event. "Not just yours, Hirakoba-kun."

"Oh," he managed, bowing his head. "You don't want me. That way."

Kite didn't tell him that wanting him wasn't quite the issue - he didn't want to open himself up for the passionate onslaught that might follow; the boy was plenty stubborn. "That has nothing to do with why I won't."

Hirakoba looked up then. His eyes were big and deep and blue and when he licked his lips, he had Kite's attention right where he wanted it, whether he knew it or not. "Please, Sensei. Just once."

Closing his eyes, Kite pinched the bridge of his nose; his head was still pounding. "I should take you home," he murmured, attempting to will the headache away.

"You can't," Hirakoba said. "I told my parents I was staying over at a friend's house. If I come home now, they'll know I was lying."

Kite merely stared. He'd been suckered. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. "You'll think of something," he said.

"No, Sensei, please! I promise I won't be a bother. Can't I stay here tonight?"

This time, Kite massaged his temples. First he'd tried to foist his virginity off on Kite and now he was trying to wrangle an invitation to stay the night. His life had become a ridiculous, dime-store crime novel. Or rather - the way things were going - a ridiculous, dime-store gay crime novel.

"Why don't you go take a shower," Kite suggested, standing slowly and holding out a hand for Hirakoba. "Relax a little and then we'll talk."

The boy beamed at him, taking his hand and hopping to his feet. "I am kinda sweaty. Thanks, Sensei!"

Releasing his hand, Kite waved him toward the door. "Yeah, yeah. My bathroom is at the end of the hall, just off my bedroom."

Halfway down the hall, Kite called out to him and he turned, still grinning.

"Don't mess with my stuff," Kite warned.

"I won't, sheesh," Hirakoba said, and took off toward Kite's bedroom, looking just as pleased as punch.

Trudging back into the kitchen, Kite sighed again and began to rummage through the cabinets for aspirin of any sort. He could hear water running in the bathroom and, faintly, Hirakoba singing some awful pop song.

The phone rang and Kite cringed, dreading whatever might be waiting for him on the other end of the line. Ryoga with more car disasters, Atobe with one of his famous 'slight change of plans', Sakaki from the D.A.'s office, warning Kite about a possible attempt on his life/recently deceased witnesses/relief from duty for breaking more laws than the criminals he was supposed to be bringing to justice. Still and all, he picked up. It wasn't as if he actually had a choice.

"Kite."

"Where in the fuck is that cathouse you were telling me about? I've been wandering around downtown for an hour and a half. I feel like a dick."

"That's because you are a dick," Kite responded pleasantly. "Where are you now?"

"I'm across the street from that leather bar and next door to some fish market. It stinks over here."

"You're close. It's about three doors down. 45885 is the street number. Go upstairs."

"It's hot as balls out here, man. I shoulda just went home and jerked off in front of the fan."

"Why didn't you?" Kite asked.

"Eh, I was already out here. Busted some asshole whose been hanging around near the station. Skirt-lifter."

Kite made a face. "They're really giving you the shit jobs, aren't they?"

"Yeah, well. I'm still on probation after that last incident, you know."

"Oh, right," Kite said, remembering. "How is that guy anyway?"

"Doc says he'll walk again. He's only got the one ball now, though."

"Maybe he'll think about that the next time he pulls a gun on somebody," Kite said.

"Either that, or he really hates cops now and we've all got something to look out for. Anyway, I didn't call to yak with you, Kite. I need to find myself a piece of ass before I get too tired to bother."

Hesitating for only a moment, Kite listened carefully for Hirakoba. Satisfied that he was still splashing happily in Kite's bathtub, Kite held the phone tighter to his ear and lowered his voice. "Hey, Akutsu. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, hurry up," Akutsu said, taking a drag off his cigarette and exhaling into the phone.

"You, uh," he hesitated, unsure of the reaction he might receive. "You ever made it with a guy before?"

"Guy?" Akutsu asked, sounding disgusted.

"Boy," Kite amended.

"Oh," Akutsu said, winding down a little. "Sure. Once or twice. Why d'you ask?"

"It's a long story. What's it like? Could you, you know, get it up okay?"

"Depends," Akutsu said sagely. "If they're over 19, I usually don't bother. But if they're young enough and cute enough, it's like doing it with a girl. Except...not. You get it?"

Kite didn't get it. "I guess so."

"But hey, man," Akutsu began. "What happened to that little firecracker you were living with?"

"She ran off with the school nurse," Kite said dryly.

Akutsu whistled his appreciation for such a mental image. "No shit? Damn, that's hot."

When Kite didn't respond, Akutsu continued. "Oh, I mean, dude, that sucks. I don't suppose she ever let you watch or anything like that?"

"The school nurse is a guy," Kite told him.

"Oh," Akutsu scoffed. "Stupid bitch. That's a shame, too. She had one hell of an ass on her."

"Okay, so back to me now," Kite said.

"Okay, yeah. Where were we? Oh, right, boyass."

Kite cringed. "I wish you wouldn't say that."

"Listen," Akutsu began. "How many guys has he done it with? Do you know?"

"None."

"Good. Here's what you do: strip that little bitch bare, lay him on the bed and suck on his nipples for a few minutes, right? Bite your way down his belly and spread his legs. Nibble on the insides of his thighs and suck on his balls - that'll get him to thrashing his hips a little bit - and then you just hold him down and suck his dick, but not for long. Those young ones'll shoot in your mouth and not even know it's coming. When he's begging and squirming and spreading his legs, you flip him over and rub his ass. He'll start arching his back and that's when you lube him up - make sure you get him nice and wet. Finger him a few minutes, they're usually pretty tight. Let him rub his dick on the bed and he'll probably come before you can get in him. It's easy going in if you can make him come first."

Akutsu paused a moment. "Let's see, what am I forgetting?"

Kite stood, shell-shocked, somehow wanting Akutsu to both continue and just shut the sweet hell up. His face was hot. He was hot all over, come to that.

"Oh, yeah. Make sure you bag it, dude. You don't know where that bitch's been."

"Uh, right," Kite responded weakly. "Th-thanks for that."

"Hey, no problem. Anyway, I think I found the place. I can smell the hooker perfume on the stairs - this must be it. You have fun with your little honey; don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He hung up and Kite continued to stand where he was - staring at the phone and feeling that Akutsu had certainly given him ample latitude for the night ahead. He wasn't at all sure he could maintain an erection with his fingers in some boy's ass, no matter how pretty that boy happened to be. But then, Kite Eishirou never backed down from a challenge and, honestly, didn't he deserve a little action after all the grief he'd been given lately? He was frustrated enough to just go for it at this point.

"Sensei," Hirakoba called softly, standing just in the hallway and wrapped tight in Kite's purple silk robe. Short on Kite, it hit Hirakoba just below the knees and it gapped at his chest. His waist was even smaller than it typically seemed and, with his hair still wet from the bath, his blue eyes looked that much wider, that much more innocent.

"I'm sorry about your bathrobe," he went on. "But there was nothing else in the bathroom and I didn't want to put my dirty clothes back on."

"It's fine," Kite said, distracted. Hirakoba was smooth, tanned and practically naked. It was hard to feel guilty for the thoughts he currently entertained when every line of Hirakoba's body seemed to be saying 'Do it. You know you want to. Just say the word and I'm all yours, Sensei.'

"What is it?" Hirakoba asked, self-conscious now as he tightened the robe around his chest. "Are you angry?"

Kite was about the furthest from angry that he'd ever been. He was hot again; he thought he might be sweating. "I...you're just..."

Licking his lips, Hirakoba took a step forward - cautious and deliberate. "What?"

"You still want it?" Kite asked, flush with trepidation, embarrassment, desire. The look on Hirakoba's face spoke plainly of his immediate comprehension.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Come here," he murmured, laying the phone aside and reaching for Hirakoba. The boy went into his arms easily, resting his hands at Kite's hips and looking up at him despite his blush.

One little tug on the silk belt had the bathrobe falling open and Hirakoba closed his eyes when Kite eased the fabric away with one hand at the boy's hip. He was hard and his legs trembled when Kite slid one hand lower to stroke the back of his thigh. He gasped, fingers bunching Kite's pants, and Kite took his hand away quickly.

"No," Hirakoba protested, moving closer. "Keep going."

This wasn't how it was supposed to go down, Kite realized. They were standing in the kitchen and it was going to be rather difficult to follow Akutsu's instruction as they were.

"You want to, uh, move this to the bedroom?"

Nodding, Hirakoba pressed his face to Kite's chest and shivered. Touching him finally, Kite rubbed his back through the thin silk of the robe and the boy exhaled audibly.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, and Hirakoba nodded again.

"You won't be sorry, I promise," he said, hanging on tightly to Kite and not realizing that it was Kite who should be making reassurances and not the other way around.

"You don't have to say things like that," Kite told him, guiding him toward the bedroom. "Nothing's set in stone. I'll stop if you tell me to stop."

Hirakoba was tense, Kite could feel it when he rested one hand at the boy's hip and leaned to turn on the light.

"No," Hirakoba interjected. "Leave it off. The moon is bright, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Kite agreed, closing the bedroom door, though he couldn't have said why he did. He lived alone, now. "It's bright."

Pulling Hirakoba close again, he ducked his head to nuzzle at the boy's neck. He was warm, soft. He smelled good. Gathering the edge of the robe in his hand, Kite inched the fabric up along the back of Hirakoba's leg, fingertips light against his skin. He nibbled the boy's earlobe, easily lost in the feel and the warmth and the scent of him. Hirakoba gripped his biceps, rising to his tiptoes and inhaling sharply when Kite lifted the robe to bare one buttock. He touched him carefully, squeezing him, and Hirakoba stiffened.

"Sensei," he breathed, pressed tightly against Kite and Kite marveled at the response his actions provoked. He hadn't even gotten the kid into bed yet.

With both hands under the robe now, cupping and kneading Hirakoba's bottom, Kite brought him close to nudge between his legs with one knee and the boy trembled.

"Sensei," he hissed, clenching under Kite's hands, tensing, sucking in a breath, and Kite kissed his neck, murmuring reassuringly.

Then the boy's voice caught and he grew very still against Kite, digging his fingers into Kite's arms. And then he slumped, limp and breathless, and Kite caught him when he swayed against him. He bent, swung Hirakoba up into his arms and held him for a moment before laying him carefully on the bed.

"Hirakoba-kun?" he asked softly, kneeling beside the bed when Rin curled up on one side - legs drawn up. His eyes were barely open, his lips slack. And he'd come all over the front of Kite's trousers.

"You can," he slurred, reaching out to touch the crispy curl of Kite's hair. "call me Rin-chan."

Hirakoba closed his eyes, faint smile on his pretty lips, and his hand lay open near his cheek. He was asleep. And Kite's dick felt like stone inside his underwear.

Kite realized, idly stroking the boy’s hair, that he hadn’t even had the chance to kiss him.

***

It was cool out. The sun was just rising and Rin's hair was a tangled mess and his belly was empty and clamoring for breakfast, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd awakened with such a clear head. With the muted light of pre-dawn filtering through the window and over his pillow, Rin had come awake gradually that morning - warm and comfortable and very, very well-rested - and opened his eyes to see Kite Eishirou sprawled out beside him. On his stomach, with one hand beneath his pillow and the other curled just next to his face, he looked different without his glasses. Younger, unaware, vulnerable perhaps.

Or maybe the previous night was coloring Rin's judgment and the swell of emotion he experienced due to Kite's proximity was only wishful thinking.

Quiet when he slipped out of bed, tugged on his clothing from the night before, Rin had glanced back at the bed and smiled to himself. It was a first step, certainly, but having taken that initial step could only mean that the next few to follow would come easier. Kite had kissed his neck and touched him, had shared his bed; surely such progress was indicative of his feelings for Rin.

Pulling his hair back into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, Rin rotated his shoulders and bent to stretch the muscles in his legs. A quick jog and he'd have time to shower and perhaps manage a quick breakfast before he and Kite would need to be off to school. Last night's unanswered questions could wait; in Rin's mind, he and Kite were already together.

Light on his feet along the sidewalk and into the alley, Rin picked up his pace and wrinkled his nose. He could smell the coming rain in the air, the exhaust, the faint chill that had yet to fade. He wondered if he'd appeared as inexperienced and childish to Kite as he suspected that he might have and hoped that he was just remembering things wrong. His grand plan - the seduction of Kite Eishirou - had not been quite the production Rin had intended. Cringing, Rin remembered bringing the curtain down early and regretted that he'd let the night pass without attempting to sway Kite with his own romantic overtures. He hadn't even touched Kite; they hadn't even kissed. Rin couldn't help wondering if Kite would give him another chance. A second chance to prove that he could be as good as any woman - better, in fact. Better than the stupid woman who'd left him all alone.

He smiled, thinking of all that would be theirs now. The house, the future, living and loving and learning all the things that he'd always thought he already knew. All with a man worth the time and the effort. Even if it turned out that he was Yakuza. Nobody was perfect.

"Hey, kid,"

The voice that startled Rin out of his early morning daydream was low and soft and he never even got the chance to turn around and see if its owner was the same. He didn't have time to scream, didn't have time to feel fear.

The man behind him with the low, soft voice hooked an arm around his neck, pressed a cloth to his nose and mouth and turned Rin's world dark again. He didn't even get to see the sun rise.

***

It had been a strange morning. Having awakened to find himself alone when he'd anticipated needing to find the right thing to say to the boy he'd spent the night with, Kite really couldn't have said if finding Hirakoba gone and making words entirely unnecessary made him happy or not. He felt unsettled and had no real idea why.

He didn't see the boy in the hallways that morning, didn't have to find a casual dismissal to send him on his way, didn't have to wish he'd stop staring at him and making him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel. When he didn't turn up in Kite's class that morning and had yet to make an appearance by lunchtime, Kite began to worry. At the very least, Hirakoba would have left a note. Wouldn't he? Kite realized that he really couldn't say, one way or another; it wasn't as though he knew the boy well. He supposed it couldn't be helped that he would assume an exaggerated sense of familiarity given that he'd had his hands all over Hirakoba’s ass the night before. It disgusted him - what a romantic he was turning out to be.

With no woman to pack his lunch and no fawning teenaged admirer to bring him one, either, Kite was forced to buy his lunch in the cafeteria. The other teachers chose not to, but Kite liked watching the students, free from the rules and stifled atmosphere of their classrooms. Here, he could see who spent time with whom, which students garnered the most respect, which ones were the biggest target for ridicule or - worse - blatant disregard.

He cut in line, smiling blandly at a short, mean-looking redhead who scowled at him for his audacity. Kite merely smiled more and selected a gouya burger and tofu. The redhead thumbed his nose at Kite, but he was too cute to incite much anger. Kite patted his head and scooped up his tray, turning to find a suitable vantage point from which to have his lunch.

Spotting Sanada-kun first, Kite sat at the table opposite him to observe him. Predictably, Yukimura-kun was by his side and neither paid much attention to their surroundings. Though he still wore the unflattering black cap, Sanada had removed his coat and draped his tie over one shoulder while he helped tie Yukimura's bib. Yukimura was uncooperative, plucking at Sanada's shirt buttons and leaning in to breathe on Sanada's pin only to wipe it clear and shiny again. He repeated those same motions several more times while Sanada cut his ramen into small pieces. Sanada spoke to him periodically, though Kite couldn't hear anything he said, and from time to time, Yukimura would giggle and try to blow raspberries on Sanada's forearms - bared by his rolled up sleeves.

Yukimura ate with his fingers and Sanada seemed content to leave him to his own devices, though he seemed ever watchful of the people around him. It occurred to Kite that Sanada must know Yukimura's family secrets and the idea that Jackal entrusted such secrets to an unrelated high school boy seemed odd to him. Kite knew that, as much as he disliked involving children in the cases he was assigned, utilizing Yukimura in some way might be unavoidable.

After he'd made a mess of his lunch tray, Yukimura leaned to one side and lay his head in Sanada's lap. It was the first time Kite had noticed the boy being still. Unperturbed, Sanada merely continued to eat, concentrating on the food before him and periodically stroking Yukimura’s hair affectionately. Once or twice, he glanced down at the boy in his lap and smiled softly; Kite would never have guessed that Sanada was capable of looking quite so sappy. Yet, there he was and Kite found himself unable to look away for a long moment.

Eventually, however, Kite polished off his burger and rose to empty his tray. On the way out of the cafeteria, he glanced around - hoping to catch sight of Hirakoba or Mizuki - though he didn't recognize many of the students at all. Nearest the door sat Fuji Shuusuke, enjoying a colorful array of sushi that he didn't share with the people at his table. Flanked by Tezuka-kun and Yuuta-kun - both of whom appeared miserable and downtrodden - Fuji made small talk with a couple of cheerleaders and smiled pleasantly throughout. When Kite passed his table, Fuji opened his eyes and blew him a little kiss. Kite experienced a sudden chill and wished that the day would be over soon.

***>

The music, the chatter, the clink of glasses and the high-pitched squeal of girlish laughter reached Hirakoba from the main room. Hidden away in an upstairs bedroom, bound to a chair so deep that his feet barely reached the chair legs that his ankles were tied to, Hirakoba couldn't believe that the people who'd snatched him off the street were now downstairs partying like college kids. The guy who'd grabbed him had been rather young and he was kind of an asshole. The chubby, gum-snapping guy in the kitchen had yelled at him and smacked him in the back of the head when he'd pushed Hirakoba through the door, causing him to trip and knock over a stack of cooking pots.

'Akaya, you big stupidhead! We want that chococop to come after him and this kid needs to be in one piece when he does!'

The guy - Kirihara - had rubbed his head and pulled his eye at the redhead. 'It's just a little fall, Bunta, relax. I already promised I wouldn't cut him up or anything.'

Hirakoba had withdrawn even further into himself at that point and figured that it would be better if he didn't speak at all. Not that he could make small-talk with his captor, who seemed to eat, sleep and breathe with a pair of red earbuds in his ears. Hirakoba couldn't really tell what sort of music Kirihara was listening to, but it sounded like gay pop crap to him.

Through the window on the far side of the room, he could see that the sun was about to set and he surmised that he'd been trapped inside this room for nearly twelve hours. He hadn't eaten, he hadn't gone to the bathroom - he'd done nothing but sit in a chair and worry about what was going to happen to him.

Thinking back to what the redhead in the kitchen had said, Hirakoba could only assume that the 'chococop' he referred to must be Kite. It fit, with the hair and all. Sighing, Hirakoba closed his eyes and wondered if Kite would, indeed, come for him after all. Any suspicions that he might have had regarding Kite's true profession were a thing of the past. He wasn't a teacher, he wasn't Yakuza. He was a cop. He felt stupid for falling for Kite's clueless teacher act - everyone knew that no respected school would hire a teacher with an accent like that. After spending so much time reflecting on the previous night's events, Hirakoba realized just how young and dumb he must have appeared to Kite. There would be no future, no house, no love; Hirakoba was nothing but a pawn in a glorified game of cops and robbers and the odds that he would make it out of the bad guys' house in one piece seemed less and less likely.

The sun finally set, sinking low into a horizon that Hirakoba couldn't see, and the room grew darker as the minutes ticked by. An hour passed, maybe two, and Hirakoba must have dozed off since the slow creak of the door opening jerked him hard back into instant awareness. The room was full dark now and the light spilling in from the hallway beyond hurt his eyes. Squinting, he rasped, "Who's there?"

No one answered and, whoever it was, didn't turn the light on before they closed the door again. The stranger bumped into furniture, giggled to himself and then began to hum a tune that wasn't a tune at all. It was manic and creepy and Hirakoba wanted to cry, but he bit down hard on his bottom lip and braced himself for whatever torture he was about to receive.

"Light-san is hiiiiiding from me," the voice sing-songed, laughing when something thumped and rattled. "Oops. Clumsy Seiichi-chaaan."

Hirakoba tensed. Seiichi-chan?

But then the light flipped on and when Hirakoba's vision sharpened, he gasped. Yukimura Seiichi stood before him, balancing a tray of snacks and two big bottles of soda.

"Rin-chan!" he exclaimed, setting the tray on the floor and clapping his hands happily. "Do you have the bunny?"

"Uh...what?" Hirakoba wasn't sure how to answer; he didn't want to risk pissing off the boss' brother.

"Akaya-chan said there was a bunny rabbit upstairs and I've searched every room in the house." He pouted then, looking forlorn. "He must have gotten away."

He turned toward the door and Hirakoba strained against the ropes. "Wait, Seiichi-kun! Don't leave me here!"

Pausing at the door, Yukimura glanced back and smiled at Hirakoba. "But I need to find the bunny." He pointed at the tray on the floor. "I brought him some snacks. Bunta-chan said he was hungry.

"Seiichi-kun. I'm the bunny. I haven't eaten all day."

Eyes widening, Yukimura hurried back to Hirakoba and knelt before him, shifting snacks around on the tray. "Poor bunny-chan. Hungryhungry." After a moment, when he'd arranged rice crackers all over the tray - perfectly aligned in rows of four - he smiled up at Hirakoba. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm sort of tied to this chair, Seiichi-kun. Can you untie me?"

Appearing to consider, Yukimura eased the strap of a messenger bag over his head and crossed his legs before him. He toyed with the Hello Kitty keychain on the bag and glanced suspiciously up at Hirakoba. "I don't think I'm s'posed to do that. Nii-san will get mad at me."

"Please?" Hirakoba begged. "I won't go anywhere, I promise. I'm really hungry, Seiichi-kun. Can't we share?"

Smiling a little, fidgeting in barely-restrained excitement, Yukimura plucked at the knots tied around Hirakoba's ankles. "On one condition."

"Anything," Hirakoba said and meant it. He had to get free - he had to get out of there.

"Will you look at my picture book with me?"

Nodding, Hirakoba repressed a shudder when Yukimura beamed and leaned in close to untie the ropes. Once, Hirakoba had seen Sanada sneaking a kiss with Yukimura in the gym. He'd kissed him like a man would kiss a woman, he'd touched his hips, his lower back - under his shirt - and when he'd pulled back, Hirakoba couldn’t miss the tent Sanada had pitched in the front of his pants. It had made him feel really weird, like he might throw up, because Yukimura had begun hand-flapping and babbling about the surprise Sanada had promised him shortly after.

That's how he felt now, with Yukimura on his knees before him, working him free of the ropes and humming the theme to some cartoon.

After a moment, Yukimura sat back and Hirakoba slid forward to the edge of the chair. He stretched, rotating his shoulders and cracking his neck as he rose to his feet. "Oh, man, my ass hurts," he mumbled, stretching his back and legs.

Looking up sharply, Yukimura turned dark, serious eyes on Hirakoba. "A warm bath will help. Would you like one?"

"Oh, but that can wait," he continued. "Let's look at pictures!"

Stretching one last time, Hirakoba sat down beside Yukimura and uncapped a bottle of soda - he was dying of thirst. "What's going on downstairs?"

Yukimura shrugged, opening his bag to withdraw an oversized, bright yellow photo album. "Nii-san told me to go play somewhere and so I did. Some ladies were showing their boobs." He leaned close, whispering. "Naked."

Cramming a handful of crackers into his mouth, Hirakoba said, "You don't like girls' boobies, Seiichi-kun?"

Yukimura made a face. "Yuck, no."

Hirakoba grinned, slurped at his soda. Yukimura was something of a simpleton, but he was cute and innocent and would probably be a child for the rest of his life, poor bastard.

"What do you like, then?" he asked, finding himself relaxing a bit as Yukimura opened his photo album and reached for a cracker, too.

"I like Genchi's penis," he said, matter-of-factly. "He lets me touch it and rub my face on it."

When Hirakoba didn't answer, Yukimura smiled brightly. "Genchi-chan doesn't have boobies."

"Renji-chan helps me take pictures, see?" he said, turning the book so that Hirakoba could see. "And I can draw real good."

Staring in horror at the pages, Yukimura flipped slowly through, Hirakoba made pleased noises as Yukimura talked about each one.

"This is my favorite," Yukimura said, pointing to one page where he'd drawn several flower stems and leaves and, where the flowers should have been, were cutout heads of his family members. He pointed to Kuwahara. "Nii-san is a Venus Flytrap. Have you ever seen a Venus Flytrap?"

Hirakoba shook his head. "N-no. What flower are you, Seiichi-kun?"

Yukimura beamed. "I'm a tulip."

He turned the page again. There was Sanada in the sauna; he was hung like a mule. Hirakoba felt queasy. "Oh. Did you take that one yourself?"

"No," Yukimura said. "Renji-chan took that one, too. He's good with the camera."

He turned the page and Hirakoba clapped a hand over his mouth. Seated at an ornate dining room table was a man in a crisp white suit and red tie. His fingers were curled loosely around a goblet of wine. There was a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

"Who's that?"

"I don't know. But it's a good picture, ne?"

He turned the page again and there was Mizuki and Yuuta - cherry blossoms drifting around them, forever suspended in that moment - embracing, kissing. Mizuki’s seersucker, button-up shirt matched the exact shade of the sakura petals in the space around him.

"So it's true," Hirakoba murmured. "They really are involved."

"No one knows I took that picture. I'm saving it for Hajime-chan. So he can remember."

"Remember?" Hirakoba asked. "Why would he forget?"

Yukimura looked sad, tracing the outline of Mizuki and Yuuta with the tips of his fingertips. "His father won't be alive to take care of him. Hajime-chan will be sent away."

He sniffled, leaning in to wipe his nose on Hirakoba's shirt. "Seiichi-chan will miss Hajime-chan."

He took Hirakoba's hand then, and bowed his head. "I want to teach you something, Rin-chan."

Tensing, Hirakoba sincerely hoped he wasn't going to be invited into the sauna - or worse. "Uh, sure, Seiichi-kun. What is it?"

"Listen. And say what I say," Yukimura began, his grip on Hirakoba's hand nearly super-human. "Look, he is coming with the clouds and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and all the peoples of the earth will mourn because of him. So shall it be. Amen."

Hirakoba winced when the bones in his hand cracked. Christianity, it seemed, made even the most simple-minded of men eloquent. And terrifying. If Mizuki were standing before him, Hirakoba knew he would delight in kicking the living shit out of him.

Sucking in a breath, Hirakoba began to recite. "Look, he is coming with the clouds and every eye will see him..."

***

Something was wrong; Kite was certain of it. He hadn't seen or heard from Hirakoba-kun all day and he'd been equally unsuccessful in making contact with Atobe Keigo, who was supposed to be heading up the whole operation.

Twice he'd called the office in the hopes of catching him, to no avail. The first time, he'd spoken to Oishi Shuuko - sweet-voiced little darling that she was - and the second time, he'd been transferred to Dan Taichi, who sounded reluctant to give Kite too much information. In the end, he'd given up and had sat down at the kitchen table with a bottle of powerade and Mizuki's case file. Mizuki-kun's father was an idiot. A small fish swimming with sharks. Still and all, it was Kite's job to guard his son while Ryoga and Akutsu worked to keep their star witness alive and kicking. Once Kuwahara was in custody, fast-tracking the trial would be a piece of cake. Particularly with Atobe Keigo pushing it forward. Even after all of that, it was still very likely that Mizuki and his son would have to go into hiding for the rest of their lives. It was a small price to pay, Kite thought, to keep from ending up on the wrong side of a gun.

His mobile rang, startling him, and he answered without hesitation.

"Hey, cop."

Kite grew very still. "Who is this?"

"I bet you're wondering where your little blonde cupcake is, eh? Been missing him all day, haven't ya?"

Rin.

"If you hurt him, I'll string you up-"

"Pipe down, Galahad," the man said, sounding smug. "And watch the threats or it's no more Mr. Nice Guy."

Jaw clenched, Kite gripped the phone and remained silent. The man didn't wait for him to answer.

"So here's the deal, all right? You bring me the little altar boy and I'll give you Hirakoba. Seems like a fair trade to me."

"I won't let you hurt either of them. They're just kids, you murdering bastard."

"Che. You fucking cops, I swear. Sooooo self-righteous. I'm not going to hurt the little fucker; he's insurance."

"And if I don't?"

"Well," the man said, chuckling. "I'll go upstairs and shoot blondie in the back of the head. He's tied up, it's dark; he won't know what hit him."

Kite growled, getting to his feet quickly enough to tip his chair over. The man laughed again - grating and infuriating. "See? He's insurance, too. Acceptable losses, see?"

"Fine. Where are you?"

"Ahaha, good one, Kite Eishirou. You go fetch Atobe Keigo - he gives great...direction...from what I understand."

The line went dead then and Kite pocketed his phone. There was really no point calling Atobe. Kite decided he'd go over there, instead. Plan A was a bust - Kuwahara's minions had seen to that - but Kite always had a Plan B.

By the time he made it to Atobe's, Kite was certain he'd have made up a good one.

***

It was hard to laugh, Atobe had recently discovered, with a fourteen-inch double dong nudging the back of one's throat. It was all part of the fun, Hiyoshi insisted, but then, he wasn't the one choking on a rubber dick shaped oddly like a hot dog.

Sitting up suddenly, abandoning his tickling of the backs of Atobe's knees, Hiyoshi pushed his Zorro mask up and glanced around quickly.

"Did you hear that, Keigo?"

"Mmm mmmm mmmmm," Atobe said, arching beneath Hiyoshi in an attempt to dislodge him.

"Oh," Hiyoshi said, reaching up to unfasten the leather strap that bound Atobe to the bedpost. "Sorry, lover."

Pulling the purple dong out of his mouth, Atobe hacked once or twice, scraping his tongue against his teeth. He hated the taste of rubber.

"I didn't hear anything," he said, unwilling to admit that the entire task force could have burst through the front door and he wouldn't have noticed. Hiyoshi was far and away too sure of the sway he held over Atobe.

"I think someone's at the door," Hiyoshi said.

Growing very still, Atobe listened, jumping when he heard the impatient banging at his front door. "Well, at least we know it's not a hitman."

"How do we know that?" Hiyoshi asked, tugging up the shoulder straps of his leather harness.

"Hitmen don't knock."

"Oh, right," Hiyoshi acknowledged, rolling off of Atobe to lean over the side of the bed, feeling around on the floor. "Here, take this," he said, handing Atobe his service revolver.

Still holding the dong in one hand, Atobe tucked the gun into the back of his vinyl hot pants and went to answer the door.

Through the peephole, he saw Kite - hair disheveled and scowling as always - and sighed heavily as he swung open the door.

"Remind me to never tell you where I'm going the next time I take a vacation."

Lips parted, as though to deliver some scathing retort, Kite seemed to lose his train of thought as he swept Atobe with a wide-eyed glance - from his alligator boots to his go-go boy shorts to the spiked collar at his neck and then his military cap.

"What?" Atobe asked, defensive.

"Are you shooting a porno in there?" Kite asked, sounding confused.

"Keigooooo," Hiyoshi called from the bedroom. "Who is it? Is everything all right?"

"It's fine, muffin," Atobe called back, half-turning to expose the slim expanse of his back, a good portion of his ass and the loaded gun in the back of his shorts. "It's just Kite."

"Jesus Christ, forget it - I don't want to know," Kite said, pushing past Atobe and closing the door behind him, ignoring Atobe's protests. "Go put that rubber dick away and get dressed. Kuwahara's got one of my students."

Glancing down, seeming surprised that he still held the double dong, Atobe tossed it onto the kitchen counter and narrowed his eyes at Kite. "Mizuki."

"No," Kite said, beginning to pace. "Hirakoba. They...they snatched him this morning. Probably right in front of my house."

Arching a brow, Atobe crossed his arms over his chest, hissing when he bumped one of his nipple clamps. "Your house, hm? Do tell."

"I don't have time for this," Kite groused. "Go put on some fucking pants and call the boys. He wants to trade Hirakoba for Mizuki's kid."

Atobe laughed. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Mizuki's only cooperating because of his son. If they take out the boy, there goes our leverage."

"You'll have to trust me," Kite said. "I can make this happen. I just need to buy some time, let them think I'll play along."

At Atobe's stubborn expression, Kite went on. "They won't kill Mizuki-kun on sight. He's their leverage, too."

Finally, Atobe sighed and turned back toward the bedroom. His boots click-clacked on the Italian marble and he swung his hips when he walked.

Prissy little fag.

"Oh, hey," Atobe called from the bedroom. "Did you get your car back?"

"No," Kite said. "I haven't heard from Ryoga since yesterday."

"How did you get here, in that case?"

Silent for a moment, Kite shoved his hands into his pockets and scuffed at the tile with the toe of his shoe. He'd gone half a block on foot when he realized that he didn't have time to wait for the bus. There'd been a girl on the corner - long pigtails and empty, wide-eyed stare - parking her scooter at the curb and Kite had acted before he'd given himself a chance to think better of it. He'd flashed his badge and shoved her aside when she just stared blankly at him and when he pulled away from the curb, fishtailing dangerously on the sidewalk until he'd jumped the curb and shot out on the street. As he'd revved the engine and waited for oncoming traffic to thin, he heard her plaintive whine: "Ryoma-kun," she'd said, over and over until Kite would have been willing to throw himself in front of a bus just to make it stop.

Oh, well. She'd report him and the office would sort things out for him and return her scooter. "I, uh, hitched a ride."

Hiyoshi appeared in the bedroom doorway then, sapphire-blue yukata only barely concealing the leather straps across his chest. He didn't look happy.

"Sorry," Kite offered automatically, hands up in supplication.

Lips pursed, Hiyoshi leaned in the doorway and popped a clip into the pistol he held. "Just make it snappy, hm?"

Stepping up beside him, Atobe buttoned his shirt over his bulletproof vest and accepted both the extra gun and Hiyoshi's sweet, farewell kiss.

"Don't go to bed without me," he warned, squeezing Hiyoshi's ass and kissing his ear.

Hiyoshi smiled tightly, tilting his head toward Atobe's kiss. "Work hard, Kei-chan."

"Let's go," Kite said, opening the front door, Atobe just behind him. "I'll take your Porsche and follow you to Mizuki's."

Atobe wanted to argue, Kite could see it in his eyes. Whatever misgivings he had, however, he kept them to himself.

"Fine. I'll take the Ferrari. Try to keep up."

***

The house was dark, when Kite and Atobe pulled up to the lawn. Newspapers littered the ground and the grass hadn't been mowed in quite some time. Not quite the way Kite imagined someone like Mizuki living, but he supposed the man's lifestyle had changed a bit given recent events and the situation he was currently in. There were huge flowering plants lining the sides of the house and - only barely - their perfume masked the smell of overflowing garbage bins in the alley.

Thankful for the lack of working street lights, Kite snuck around to the back of the house and took the short steps two at a time. Rapping quickly on the door, Kite turned sideways, hand just at the butt of his gun as he listened for any sign of movement inside the house.

Softly, he heard "Sensei?" from just on the other side of the door and Kite breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's me, Mizuki-kun. Open the door."

Slowly, the boy opened the door and - in the moonlight - his pale face and neck appeared against the dark backdrop of the room beyond.

"I need your help," Kite said. "Will you come with me?"

"Is my father dead?" was Mizuki's immediate, calm question.

"No," Kite said, wondering just how much Mizuki knew and whether or not that knowledge could work to his advantage. "Kuwahara has Hirakoba."

Mizuki nodded. "He's bait, then. For me."

"You knew I wasn't a teacher," Kite said, unwilling to confirm or deny Mizuki's very accurate assumption.

Mizuki shrugged. "I suspected. But then I saw my father's guard dog picking up your car and I knew. But it doesn't matter - you're on my side."

Narrowing his eyes, Kite peered at Mizuki. "It was you. You slashed my tires."

Appearing completely unapologetic, Mizuki blinked mildly up at Kite. "I had to know for sure. And you'd have never confided in me."

Silent for a moment, Kite frowned. "I'm not a pedophile, by the way."

Smiling wanly, Mizuki wound a single curl around his finger. "Nfu. That wasn't me, I'm afraid."

The door creaked open a bit more and Fuji Yuuta appeared behind Mizuki, sliding one arm around Mizuki's waist and meeting Kite's eyes. "That was my brother," he said. "Sorry."

Just inside the room, Kite could make out an oversized rendition of the Sistine Madonna hanging on the wall and he stared for a moment, distracted until Yuuta stepped closer to Mizuki, thereby efficiently blocking Kite’s view inside the house.

"So, what's the plan?" Mizuki asked. "If you hand me over to Kuwahara, you can kiss my father's testimony goodbye. Because he'll roll right over to keep me safe."

"It's all for show," Kite promised, stepping aside when Mizuki slipped his feet into shiny loafers near the door. "And it won't take long, either. You can count on that."

Mizuki laughed softly, taking his bag from Yuuta when it was offered, and took Yuuta's hand in his on the steps. "Such a cowboy. If you show up there, guns blazing, you'll never get rid of Hirakoba. He'll think you're some kind of hero."

Yuuta closed and locked the door behind them and Kite let them pass. As he followed them to the car, he couldn't help asking himself if he really wanted to be rid of Hirakoba at all.

***

"Akaya!" Kuwahara barked, impatient as though he'd called for Kirihara more than once. Removing his orange top hat only long enough to wipe his head with a silk handkerchief, Kuwahara gestured dismissively to the two strippers who clung to his arms. Their perfume was giving him a headache. Kirihara was making it worse.

Looking in the other direction, head bobbing and foot tapping in time to music that only he could hear, Kirihara hummed under his breath and shimmied his hips. Until Yanagi nudged him with his elbow.

Tugging one earbud free, Kirihara glanced first at Yanagi and then quickly at Kuwahara. Tinny music resonated from the one earbud and Yanagi bowed his head, covering his eyes with one hand.

'rokkugo! rokkugo! rokkugo! marhaemar!'

"Where. Is. The. Boy," Kuwahara asked.

‘amanhda manhda manhda manhda!!’

"Oh," Kirihara said, smiling as though he were proud of himself. "He's upstairs. Tied up."

‘yobuge jogi jogeboya?’

"And Seiichi?"

‘yobo ankyung anboyo’

"Why would I tie up Seiichi?" Kirihara asked, scratching his head.

‘tongsur jib surtong suju man byeong manjuso!’

Still for only a moment, Kuwahara bared his teeth and chucked a vase at Kirihara's head. Quick as a cat, Kirihara ducked and the vase shattered against the wall.

‘dai shimjom shimida, popopo!’

"I'm asking you where he is, you half-wit! And turn that shit off!”

Sorely tempted to remind Kuwahara that it was his darling brother, in fact, who was the half-wit around here, Kirihara wrinkled his nose and turned off his I-pod. "Um...I haven't seen him for a couple of hours."

"You'd better be joking," Marui spoke up, arms crossed over his belly and looking just as angry as Kuwahara, though Kirihara knew that he couldn't have cared less.

"I just...I mean, he went upstairs and there were all those girls in here and one had these great big tits and I..."

"Shut up," Kuwahara said, sounding weary. "Just shut up and go find him, Kirihara. You're like a child sometimes."

"I am not a child!" Kirihara denied hotly. "I was number one in target shooting at the academy! I can crush anyone!"

Massaging his temples, Kuwahara motioned Kirihara toward the steps. "Do what I tell you, brat. Or I'll send you back to the minor leagues."

Stomping off toward the stairs, Kirihara huffed his agitation and when he was safely out of earshot, Yanagi took out his pistol and polished the silencer idly. "You're too hard on him, Jackal," he admonished gently.

"Hard on him?" Kuwahara repeated in disbelief. "I should have killed him months ago. He's like a ticking time bomb."

Yanagi's only outward reaction was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth and Marui hurried to soothe the troubled waters before real trouble erupted.

"Hey guys, I made some Madeleines earlier - do you want some? They're tasty!"

Yanagi didn't respond. Neither did Kuwahara. Marui pouted. "Fine then. Fuck the both of you," he shouted, stomping back toward the kitchen.

"He's going to eat them all himself," Yanagi murmured.

Kuwahara scoffed. "What else is new?"

Before Yanagi could respond, if indeed, he'd intended to respond, Yukimura came sliding down the bannister, a water pistol in one hand and a Kumagoro plush in the other. "Banzaiiiiii!"

"Seiichi," Kuwahara began patiently. "It's getting quite late. You should have already brushed your teeth, put on your pajamas and gone to bed by now."

Leaning against the staircase, Yukimura tried to look apologetic, but failed - he was still smiling. "Rin-chan and I were looking at pictures and talking."

"Rin-chan?" Kuwahara repeated, brow arching.

"Yeah," Hirakoba said, trudging down the steps with Kirihara close behind. With the gun digging into his back, he didn't have much of an escape route. "That's me. Hirakoba Rin."

"It's a pleasure," Kuwahara said. "I do hope it doesn't become necessary to blow your head off tonight, Hirakoba-kun."

Yukimura made gunfire noises, but no one paid him any mind.

"I wonder if your sneaky, badge-toting boyfriend will come to fetch you tonight."

"He's not my boyfriend," Hirakoba said, cheeks reddening. "And I don't know what's going on, but Kite-san will do what he has to do."

"Not your boyfriend, eh?" Kirihara taunted, breath hot at Hirakoba's ear. "Then why'd you spend the night with him last night? Was he helping you with your homework, junior?"

Lips clamped tightly shut, Hirakoba didn't move, didn't answer, and Kirihara and Kuwahara laughed.

The doorbell chimed then, and Yanagi glanced at his watch. "Hm. Very timely indeed."

After a moment, Yagyuu appeared in the open, double-doorway and bowed politely. Just behind him was Mizuki Hajime looking unruffled and resolute.

"Mizuki-kun to see you, Sir."

Glancing behind Mizuki anxiously, Hirakoba waited to see Kite, though he didn't seem to be forthcoming.

"Where is your escort?" Kuwahara demanded when Mizuki entered the room to stand straight and unafraid before them.

"I came alone. It's me you want, right?"

"This is madness," Kuwahara said. "Your father would never-"

“Madness?” Mizuki asked.

“Madness!” Kuwahara repeated.

"My father," Mizuki insisted, "will do what God dictates that he must do. And that is to see that justice is served, Kuwahara-san."

At Kuwahara's expression of shock, Mizuki slipped both hands into the pockets of his white pants. "So go ahead and kill me," he said softly. "It won't change a thing."

"Mizuki," Hirakoba hissed. "Don't be stupid. They'll shoot you without even thinking about it."

"I resent that," Kirihara said, nudging Hirakoba's shoulder with the gun. "I always think about my kill before I squeeze off a few rounds."

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Kirihara stared hard at Kuwahara. "Let me do him, Jackal, come ooon. Let me paint the walls with this little bastards-"

"Rin, move," Mizuki shouted, voice sharp enough to echo off the paneled corridor when he interrupted Kirihara's manic plea for blood.

In a second, for it all happened far too quickly to think about, Mizuki had his blade out to throw in a perfect arc toward Kirihara. Throwing himself to the ground just in time, Hirakoba stared in shock as Mizuki's blade lodged just over Kirihara's heart.

Kirihara screamed, gun clattering on the polished floor and Hirakoba immediately rolled for it, snatching it up and training it directly on Kirihara, who had absolutely no interest in it, as preoccupied with the knife and the blood staining the front of his shirt as he was.

“Nooooooooo! Akaya!!!!” Yanagi screamed, but before Yanagi could target Mizuki or Hirakoba, Akutsu laughed from just behind him and released the safety on his own gun. "Don't do it, bowlhead."

Yanagi stilled, glaring at Akutsu when he held out his hand, even as he attempted to keep his eyes on Kirihara.

"Give Daddy the nice toy,” Akutsu prompted.

Kuwahara rose, unsteady on glass platforms. From the north entrance of the room, Atobe cocked his head in intense scrutiny. Tiny little goldfish darted back and forth inside the shoes, as though somehow aware of the predicament at hand. Pointing his gun at Kuwahara, he smiled politely. "You should just sit down, Kuwahara. I'd like to take a moment to thank you for kidnapping the boy, here. You certainly have made my job incredibly easy. And those are the ugliest shoes I've ever seen in my life."

From the kitchen, Kite emerged, shoes squeaking on the floor, gun drawn. "I can't believe you have the nerve to say that to anyone," he told Atobe, positioning himself before Mizuki and motioning for Hirakoba to come to him. "Maybe you should ask Kuwahara if he owns a Zorro mask."

"I do," Akutsu spoke up, backhanding Yanagi with the butt of his gun when the man glared at him. "And don't look at me like that, you ugly little bastard. I'll kick your fucking teeth in."

With a quick glance at Kirihara, who was crouched on the floor, rigid with pain and fear, Hirakoba scurried over to Kite, pressing close to his side and closing his eyes when Kite wrapped one arm around him. "I knew you'd come for me," he whispered.

"Shh," Kite said, hugging him close even as his gaze darted continuously around the room. "You're okay now."

"Status?" Atobe asked, watching Mizuki shift closer to Hirakoba to take his hand, to anchor himself, somehow. Atobe knew, however, that he simply didn't want Kite blocking his view of Kuwahara.

"All targets are subdued. I got the one in the kitchen, Ryoga got the one at the south entrance."

"You think it will be so easy?" Kuwahara asked smoothly. "You're not the first ones to go after me this way, you know. My lawyer is a genius."

"Save the speech for your trial, you lowlife," Atobe said derisively.

Falling silent, Kuwahara took a step closer to Mizuki. Kite released the safety on his gun. "Don't move," he warned.

Glancing sideways, Kuwahara took a step back and Mizuki tensed, shoving close to Kite and reaching for the gun in the holster beneath his jacket.

"Atobe-san, behind you!" he shouted, drawing Kite's gun quickly and firing several shots in Kuwahara's direction as Atobe turned to shoot blindly behind him.

Kuwahara's platforms shattered - broken glass, spilled water and flopping goldfish littering the floor as he fell backward to the sofa behind him.

"Nii-san!" Yukimura screamed, rushing toward Kuwahara without regard for the men surrounding him.

"Hold your fire!" Kite said - mostly to Akutsu and even Ryoga, who was lurking in the back hallway. Yukimura fell to his knees, paying no attention to the glass beneath him when he crawled around in an attempt to rescue the remaining fish.

As he hurried into the kitchen, both hands full of squirming goldfish, the sound of sirens echoed in the distance - drawing nearer by the second.

Atobe smiled, spinning his revolver around one finger, impossibly smug despite the pain in his upper arm from the stray bullet that had nicked him. "Time's up," he told Kuwahara. "You lose."

Handing Kirihara's gun off to Mizuki, Hirakoba wrapped both arms tight around Kite's waist. He wasn't crying, but he was close. And then Kite hugged him back and the front door banged open as several uniformed officers hurried into the room.

It was really over.

***

Outside, officers led away Kuwahara's men in handcuffs - including a cursing, struggling, bleeding Kirihara. "It's not over! Do you hear me, you megane bastard?! I'll crush you!"

Mizuki slipped away quietly, joining Yuuta in the back of Atobe's car, shutting himself off from a drama that he'd never thought to find himself involved in and seeking peace with the boy he loved. Atobe, seated on the edge of ambulance while someone bandaged his arm, frowned minutely and hoped they weren't doing anything disgusting on his beautiful, Corinthian leather. He winced when the EMT pressed too hard on the bullet wound.

"That hurt."

"I'm sorry, Atobe-san. You're lucky. It was just a flesh wound."

Atobe snorted. "Well. I hope the other guy looks worse than me."

Ryoga laughed. "The other guy's dead, dumbass."

Glancing around, Atobe said, "Where's Akutsu?"

"He's in the kitchen with that cute little redhead with the fat ass."

"What?" Atobe demanded, wincing again when he moved the wrong way. "What in the hell is he doing? I want to get out of here before the sun comes up."

Shrugging, Ryoga ruffled the back of his hair and glanced around idly. "Eating cookies, I think. Madeleines are his favorite."

Shaking his head, Kite turned to Hirakoba and smiled down at him. "We made it."

Ducking his head, Hirakoba nodded, feeling suddenly shy. "Yeah. We did."

Silence stretched between them and Kite touched the boy's soft, pale hair. "Hey. Why won't you look at me?"

"I," Hirakoba began, faltering. "I don't know."

Tipping his chin up, Kite stared down at him, touching his cheek almost tenderly. "So. You coming home with me or what?"

Eyes wide, Hirakoba could only stare up at him. "Seriously?"

Shrugging lightly, Kite watched Atobe disappear into the ambulance and experienced a moment's dread. Hiyoshi would not be happy about any of this. There would be repercussions at some point in the near future.

But Kite smiled, unable to really bring himself to care. For once, he had a reason to go home. And something good to do when he got there.

"Sure I am. I owe you a breakfast. Remember?"

With a slow smile, Hirakoba took Kite's hand, twining their fingers and squeezing just enough to let Kite know that he intended to become a permanent fixture.

"Yeah," he said, walking just at Kite's side - hand in hand - and leaning his head against Kite's shoulder. "You do."

Watching Ryoga slip into Atobe's Ferrari and Akutsu take the Porsche, Kite didn't mention that Hirakoba owed him something, too. He'd just let the kid figure that one out for himself. They had what was left of the night and the days after, besides.

Trailing a fingertip over the seat of his scooter - parked just in Kuwahara’s driveway after Kirihara had absconded with it earlier that morning - Hirakoba glanced back at Kuwahara's house. From the front steps, there was a startling flash of light and Hirakoba peered hard into the darkness. As Kite swung one long leg over the scooter’s seat, he smiled over his shoulder at Hirakoba in welcome. Climbing eagerly up behind him, Hirakoba noticed Yukimura standing on the front steps. He held a cup of goldfish in one hand and a camera in the other. Smiling brightly, when he had absolutely nothing to be so happy about, Yukimura lifted the cup of goldfish in farewell.

Hirakoba smiled, wrapping one arm tight around Kite’s waist. And as they motored away from the lawn and toward the street again, he waved.