Author's Note:

Oh my lovely darlings, it has been too long!

Apologies for the long wait between this and ABFOB. First of all, I had to think up some stuff for this sequel. Hopefully some really good stuff. As you all know, all I tend to have are rough plans in my head, so most of this is gonna be impromptu - as always, I welcome your input!

Aaah, remember those early days of ABFOB? If you read it from the start of its publication, you'll remember what a dedicated writer I was, publishing pretty much daily for the first twenty or so.

Unfortunately I don't see this being so with this one. I think far too much about things now, I over-think. I spent six days thinking of an appropriate title, for crying out loud. Also, I'm now a second-year student. Apparently the work-load is gonna rise exponentially which is freaking terrifying, cos I thought first year was a struggle.

On top of this, I don't want to reveal too much, but this summer has been pretty hard on my family. One of my parents has taken ill and is in hospital. It's very serious. I'm pretty down about it, but pushing on. It's important, for him, that I do well at school. I made him that promise, so all my efforts foremost will be put there. Any inspiration and time left over will be put into this, but I hate to tell you that I have to sleep as well. Sleep. Tch. How lame.

I know you guys are super understanding, but I thought I should let you know in advance - updates aren't going to be frequent or regular. My bursts of inspiration come sporadically.

I'm not asking for sympathy or condolences or any of that stuff - I'm not gonna refuse it either, but guys - this is my way of coping. I don't cry nearly enough because writing fiction makes the real world pains more distant - so I want to keep this thing here my happy place. Is that okay? I want everyone reading this to forget the sad things I said and just enjoy the story please.

Don't let me drag you down, or you'll be dragging me with you! Let's write this story together and see if we can get a happy ending from it, okay? Okay.

(I guess it's obvious to you now that I was lying before and actually haven't even a rough plan in mind, just an idea. The end-point of AFBOB was my target, but this time - hehe, there isn't one. Let's just hope this one isn't a 100-chapter monster!)

Loads of love,

puui x

*^*^*When we two parted*^*^*

Beneath the stain of time
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here

Other than the sound of papers rustling and the near constant scratching of frantic writing, it is blessedly quiet. Only the occasional crackle of wood burning in the fireplace breaks the otherwise repetitive rhythms of the room. Nevertheless, he is restless — eyes dull and bloodshot, flitting from one side of the long desk to the other as he double-checks and then triple-checks the document for errors. The thick, inked letters dance wildly in the flame-light, and with each gust of his breath they sink deeper into the page. Zero rubs his ink-stained hands together, absently itching his bandage and watching dust motes swirl in crazy eddies on the tail end of his last exhale.

He checks each pile meticulously one last, last time for smudges — and then… and then it is done. A breath leaves him in a hiss as he gathers all the papers together in one huge pile that almost doesn't fit his hands. He knocks the pages straight and then puts them aside.

When he is done, he does nothing but stare at the fire for a few minutes.

He zones out for a while as his hand flexes and throbs. The pins-and-needles that erupt in his feet as he stands barely sting. He is beyond exhausted, and that exhaustion numbs everything down to nothing more than a regretful twinge.

["All done?"]

He swallows loudly.

"All done," he agrees, wincing at how his throat clicks. He hasn't spoken all day, nor has he drunk any water. He'll sort those things out later when he has the time… and maybe eat something too, while he's at it. But right now all he wants to do is sleep. He can go without the other things for days, but sleep — sleep is his only escape from this hell.

Zero checks his watch. He has two hours, seventeen minutes.

He hurries — doesn't want to be seen if he can help it. Doesn't want to be stopped and guilted into doing something else before he's even reached his rooms. Every second counts. Two hours, sixteen minutes - that's all the time he has before it all starts again. He skids to a stop. Just seeing the door makes his heartbeat slow in relief and his long breaths stretch into yawns. Safe. He kicks the door shut behind him and stumbles into bed, collapsing onto it like all the strings holding him up have been cut. After briefly struggling with the covers he gives up, slides his hands under his pillow and then he is out.

The fact that he oversleeps comes as no surprise. He can't keep going on like this. His eyes will fall out of his head, dried up and shrivelled. His hand will curl up like a raven claw, clutching the damn quill and stained by its ink. His blood will dry up too, bled so many times for the Blood Quill that signs things in his Royal Name. Even now he hears it in his head — the confounded scritch-scratch of a quill nib on parchment.

This can't go on.

And yet, it has. For months now, it's gone on and on without end. So it's possible for him to keep going, but at the same time…

["You need to get away from all… this."]

"I know," he mumbles miserably, pushing himself up nonetheless. On his hands and knees he crawls to the foot of the bed and lets his bones and joints shift and crack into place. It takes him longer to get up today. His mind seems reluctant to return to work after such a restful sleep. Zero stares blankly at the door again. While he cannot hide in his bed forever… he can lock the rest of the world out for now. His finger tremble on the lock, but after it is done he feels more trapped and not a whole lot better. The fact that only way he can find peace is to lock himself away from the world is not how it should be, a little voice inside of him says. That voice is bitter and worn, but driven by desperation. It might sound hopeful in some other place than this, but right now it just sounds mocking. This shouldn't be your life. You didn't choose this life.

But that's just life. That's just how it is. It goes the way it's meant to, and that's not necessarily always the way you want it.

For some reason, he can't take his fingers off the key. Why is he so afraid? He is safe in the castle, there is nothing to fear. Maybe he's scared that this is his life now — that this is it. Knowing this, having to face the same mindless thing day after day till his brain rots... it isn't the life he'd been expecting, and it certainly isn't one he's grown to love either.

He's had plenty of time to learn to love it. Plenty of time. Too much, some would say.

Zero's heart can't help but fight the apathy, curse the world for trapping him here in a place he doesn't want to be. He may look like he's already given up but underneath it all he's blazing hot with rage. Being stubborn is part of who he is, so it's easy for him to hold onto the belief that this can't be it. This cannot be where and how he will end. He refuses to believe that paperwork and starvation will be the things that kill him; not when his life had once been a battlefield of bloody wars, ancient curses and hard-won romance.

Isn't it awful that he aches for the bloody chaos his life had once been? Doesn't that make him seem ungrateful of the peace they'd fought for?

"Fuck it," he whispers and gingerly releases the key. It sits there in the lock, all innocent and still. Eventually he steps back and nothing happens. No one comes knocking. No footsteps.

He's alone.

Maybe it's all in his head. No one's after him. No one cares about him anymore. Zero turns to the bed, ready for sleep again, when his eyes land on something at the foot of the bed — an… an envelope. He picks it up, finding nothing written on it apart from his name. The handwriting though — no way —

He almost yanks the door off its hinge and sticks his head out —

"Is this some kind of sick joke? Who put this here?" he demands, but of course, just when he needs someone, no one is there. "Whoever it is, I'll — " he slams the door shut, locking it behind him once more. Speechless with anger. Unable to settle on a punishment alone for whoever brought the envelope to him. Zero stares at the smudge of grass stain on the envelope, on his name written in slanted cursive. Kiryuu Zero. He blinks as it flickers to Kuran Zero for a moment in his head but back to Kiryuu just as quickly, remembering when they considered changing one of their names to the other's and how the idea was immediately vetoed.

"I don't get it," he admits softly to himself. Even though he isn't ready to read the letter inside, his fingers are already ripping open the envelope open in jagged pieces.

["Breathe,"] - he's told, and so he forces himself to — ["He's probably fine — "]

"You can't know that. Anyway, this isn't about him," Zero says tersely. "Something's changed," he insists, shaking open the letter. "Something must have changed. He doesn't do this. He never does this."

Don't throw this away.

He blinks several times at the single sentence on the page, flipping the sheet over to check — but no, that is all that is written.

"… come on, Kaname. What is — this is such a fucking joke," he snarls, chucking the letter onto the mattress with disgust as he starts shuffling out of his pants. "I am going to sleep — " but then —

Then his eyes land on the letter and the writing disappears. It changes, a new sentence writes itself with an invisible hand. Zero snatches it off the bed and presses his nose to it. He detects a whiff of salt, wood chips and earth — no spell that he recognises, but his eyes are drawn to the latest message: This isn't a joke. Please, I need you to do something for me.

Zero's jaw drops. "Jesus fucking Christ," he whispers, "Is this some Harry Potter shit or something?"

How does it work? How can it know what he is doing, saying, thinking? He casts a wary eye around, but knows he isn't being watched. The paper doesn't smell of any spell ingredients he can recognise, unless it's really low-grade stuff. He's never heard of a spell that can do this, but there is still a lot of magic he doesn't know of, let alone understand. His eyes fall back to the paper, onto the smooth, effortless calligraphy, and because no one can forge Kaname's complicated handwriting, he knows it has to be the real deal. He'd never thought one day he'd be able to recognise someone by their handwriting. He's never thought of himself as that type of person, but now he is just glad to say that he can. And funnily enough, in spite of wanting to ram Kaname's perfect face into a very solid wall for all he's been put through, he is at least a little more reassured to know that whatever this nonsense is, it's not going to hurt him — not if it's Kaname's nonsense.

It isn't, as you might have guessed, the first time his husband has ambled into his mind uninvited. He loves sneaking into Zero's mind and seems to think he has a free-pass to explore it whenever he so wishes, and while Zero maintains that even after all these years that that's absolutely not the case, and he doesn't like it at all — it's Kaname. There's no way of stopping him.

Zero stares at the paper, wondering where in the world his husband could be, and what type of mind-game he's playing at this time. The Bond doesn't give him any insight into his whereabouts or what he is feeling or really any information at all besides knowing he's gallivanting somewhere in the world, alive and free. It isn't at all like what people who aren't Bonded assume a Bond to be like. The romantic notion of 'mind-melding' or 'sensing one another's feelings and emotions' is a load of horse-shit. It ties their lives together, that is all. When they die, they will die together. He can't see into Kaname's mind. Only Kaname can do that, and that's simply because he is a freaking Pureblood. Zero no longer bothers hiding anything from Kaname anymore. There's no point, but the same can't be said vice versa, which he cannot help but think is totally unfair.

Zero hums thoughtfully, sinking onto the bed in defeat. To his irritation, he sees the letters fade away and get replaced with a little heart.

"Oh fuck off," he snaps, not in the mood for Kaname's blasted tomfoolery. If there is any sincerity in that little heart, Zero is blind to see it. He hates how little humour he has left. It makes him feel old and tired, thin and yet heavy enough to fall to his knees. He throws the letter a dark look. "What do you want from me?"

Go to our tree.

Zero rolls his eyes, folding up the note and tucking it in his pants as he pulls on his boots. It doesn't even bother him anymore that he follows Kaname's instructions without question when once-upon-a-time he would've questioned them. Perhaps over the years he's grown to trust Kaname more — enough so that he can't fault his decisions any more than he can doubt that he loves him.

Or maybe he just can't give a rat's ass anymore about his pride. It's not like he has much of it left anyway.

Just as Zero makes to open the door, he yelps when the top of his thigh burns. Of course, it's the note — he plucks it out of his pocket and glowers at the message: Forgive me.

"For what?" he hisses, temper rising out of nowhere as Kaname's apology burns through the page into nothing and he goes unanswered for several minutes. It's not like there's nothing to forgive — in fact, it's that there is too much — "For what?" he repeats, his voice already strained from the unusual amount of talking he's done this morning. He wants specifics. He wants Kaname to tell him exactly what he's sorry for.

Everything, Kaname finally answers. Zero scoffs.

"Too late for that," he mutters. "You can't expect me to pretend everything's alright."

It takes some more time before the next sentence comes, reluctant yet horribly sincere: No, I can't.

His temper dissipates then. He can't even maintain his anger long enough to rage it out. It leaves him cold and shaken, sapped of feeling — numb.

It's in these little moments when Zero realises he can't move on. He can't forget, he most certainly can't forgive, and the anger and frustration inside of him has no way of getting out, so it cools and sinks and drags him down like lead. It's these little things Kaname says that remind him they are still in love, or at least that he is, and they cut through him and they hurt. He feels like he is endlessly grieving for something, mourning something that is broken beyond repair.

I'm sorry, Kaname repeats. You will hate me more for what you find.

This spikes Zero's interest despite his fearing discovering what may be waiting for him under the tree. He hungers for this mystery, this bit of exciting change to the routine. But he is also afraid… I just want you to take into account that for all your strength and all of mine, we are the two people who can most hurt each other... Zero remembers those words Kaname said at his bedside, spoken in the same hushed voice a person might use when confessing their love. No truer words had ever been said.

Zero lingers. He wonders when he became so meek that simple words can spook him.

Don't dally.

He slams the door on his way out.

It's cold and damp outside, and every step is like walking through a cloud. The moisture in the air clings to his eyelashes. The mist cloaks the mountainside and diffuses the midday sun into a buttery yellow sheen. Zero isn't paying attention to any of that though. He is more focused on not slipping on the rocky path underfoot. The weeds are almost completely obscuring it from view. When was the last time he'd come up the mountain? When had he last visited the orchard? Actually, come to think of it... he can't actually remember the last time he'd been outside.

So, he supposes that answers that question.

Hurry. He'll be there soon.

Zero tenses up at the sudden terrifying news that it is a person waiting for him under their tree. He is much better at dealing with people nowadays, but only when he has to. Only at meetings or public functions, and that is a skill he's been forced into learning. He is not ready for randomly socialising with some stranger.

He turns on his heel.

He cannot possibly do this. Not even — not when he knows absolutely fuck all about what he's supposedly here for.

He's comfortable in his boring routine. At least he knows what to expect.

["Since when have you ever been a coward? Come on, I'm sure you'll be fine."]

Zero pauses. This encouragement stirs some confidence in him that straightens his spine and shoves back his worries (for the time being at least). He turns back, spurred on by his own curiosity, and when he enters the orchard and sees Mrs Kita, the groundskeeper, there, he nods at her.

She freezes at the sight of him.

Zero's known Mrs Kita since she was Miss Goro, before she married and had her three children, back when she was just a teen looking for a summer job. In all the time she's worked at the Castle, Zero hadn't known her eyes were such a lovely shade of brown, probably because they were always narrowed in concentration (she was a very focused worker), and not wide open in shock like they are now. Her head whips between Zero and somewhere further into the orchard several times before she wordlessly points Zero in the direction of 'the tree' he is heading to anyways. Now Zero is really worried, and nothing, nothing could have prepared him for what he is about to see.

He has to blink a few times to make sure what he is seeing is real —

And then he is under the tree squeezing the life out of his brother, so tightly he can feel his ribs creak. Zero doesn't question why or how he is here — he doesn't care, and neither does Ichiru by the sound of things. He is babbling like a brook and Ichiru is laughing and laughing —

And why — how is he here? Zero has to slap his own cheek to prove to himself that he's awake, which spurs more laughter from Ichiru. Though his vision is blurred, Zero latches onto the most obvious change on Ichiru's face immediately.

"You have a beard," he says hoarsely, touching the scruff on his baby brother's chin gingerly. It is patchy and prickly, immediately bringing to mind a baby hedgehog's bristles. Very badly grown. Zero snorts. "It's awful. You know we can't pull off beards."

"Maybe you can't," Ichiru says, reaching out to brush his thumb over Zero's smooth chin. "Ha… this is really weird."

Zero nods, trying to control himself. He could cry at any moment, but hysterical laughter is bubbling up inside him at the same time. He's so unused to having so many emotions fighting to reach the surface, but happiness finally wins, and a delighted smile stretches his face. It's quite humiliating to see that Ichiru looks far better than he probably does; not nearly as overwhelmed by their reunion. A tiny bit of disappointment flickers in him, but he dismisses it. Ichiru's been travelling whilst Zero's been stuck here, so it's no wonder that Ichiru probably hasn't been thinking about him as much as he has. He's probably moved on with his life. He's happy, and that's all that matters. Ichiru has made a life without him and he is glad to see that it's been good.

While Zero has mellowed from his years at the desk, Ichiru seems to have grown in confidence. His eyes are so bright that even when he's not smiling he looks like he is. Zero can spot a dozen changes in him in a mere glance. He wears coloured rope bracelets around his wrists, his skin is darker like milk coffee. There is a plain gold ring hanging from a chain around his neck and crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

"You look… different," he finds himself saying.

"And you look the same," Ichiru grins, poking Zero in the cheek, but then he frowns and cocks his head thoughtfully. "No… actually, you look different too. You look…" Lost? Zero wants to offer, Sick? Sad? Pale? Tired? All of the above? For all the hours Ichiru must have been soaking up the sun, Zero has been doing the opposite — cooped up indoors… fading. It makes sense that while Ichiru looks so healthy and full of life, Zero looks the opposite — drained of it.

"…thinner?" Ichiru tentatively ventures.

"Thanks," Zero says wryly. "I look like crap. Don't lie."

"What happened?" Ichiru doesn't try to beat around the bush this time. "You look like… I don't even know where to start."

"I've just been busy," Zero lies, thinking bitterly about how long he's actually been busy for, how unending his list of things to do is. "How are you?" he asks instead, and then adds, "And what even are you doing here, by the way? You haven't answered me."

"I'm doing good," Ichiru admits, but then he steps into his space, grabs Zero's jaw and tilts his head to the side. "You have lost weight. Are you taking care of yourself?"

Zero swats his hands aside and repeats, "What are you doing here?" The thing is he's not supposed to be here. The agreement was that they were never to see each other again — it was signed in blood. The document was preserved behind glass and is collecting dust in the top-drawer of Zero's desk. Zero remembers the day he said goodbye to his brother forever — how he'd refused to so much as look at Kaname for months afterwards and couldn't look at a mirror without feeling sick. It was worse than losing a limb. It made him doubt everything in his life — every decision he's ever made.

But it had been necessary, or at least it had been deemed necessary at the time. Zero hates comparing his life to any fiction, but it was the same cliché decision many 'fictional Vampire characters' have to make when they become immortal. Because he now shares the same lifespan as Kaname, it means that eventually he will have to watch his human friends and family age as he remains young, and that naturally will mean having to watch them die as he lives on. Cut the ties, Kaname had said. He'd made Zero promise that as soon as they hit thirty, Zero would cut off any contact with Ichiru so that he would not have to bear the pain in the years to come. They'd argued about when it would happen for weeks on end, but in the end — it just happened. Ichiru packed his bags and Zero stayed behind.

And yet, only six years later — here he is. Here they are.

Zero stares Ichiru's fidgeting down till he pulls a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket — immediately he recognises Kaname's handwriting on it.

"That son of a bitch."

Zero tries to snatch it from Ichiru, but it's pulled out of his reach.

"He says you can't see it," Ichiru ducks his head apologetically, dodging another lunge. "He says you have your own!"

"Yeah, I do, but I need to see yours!" Zero's ready to climb Ichiru to get to the scrap of paper, but then he jerks back. "Did he give it to you in person? Have you seen him?" he knows he probably looks manic by now, clawing at Ichiru's shoulders, but he doesn't care. He needs to know.

"No, I haven't. I just found it — how long as he been gone this time?" Ichiru's voice goes high and panicked, his face twisting into the same expression he wore every time Kaname left. Zero hates it so much. It makes him feel pitiful — like a dog waiting on a master who's never coming back. He scowls when he has to count out the months on both hands and then more. Over a year.

Ichiru sucks in a huge breath as he watches him count, and releases it in a heartfelt, "Fuck."

Zero rolls his eyes, dropping his hands when he cannot even work out how long it's been. It should bother him, but it doesn't. He waits for Ichiru's reaction beyond a single word.

"That's longer than… any of the times before."

"Yeah."

"I mean... over a year?"

"Yeah, I know." Eloquent. They both don't know what to say. Zero can't imagine what Ichiru be thinking. The first time Kaname left, Ichiru had been furious. The next time he was less angry, more confused. From then on he continued to be confused and more hurt — hurt for Zero.

"Nii-san, have you…" the question hangs in the air unfinished. Zero doesn't even think Ichiru knows what he wants to ask. He looks so baffled by it all, because Kaname and his relationship is just... a hot mess. It's difficult enough to understand to those involved. The fact that it has continued to be as messed up after Ichiru left is what must cut Ichiru deep, because he'd thought — he'd probably thought... he'd probably expected that things might get better. Kaname was supposed to stay with Zero when he left — to comfort him in his absence. He hadn't thought he'd leave him too. That just wasn't right.

It was a fucked up situation that he'd thought couldn't get worse, with Kaname always leaving for god knows where. He would leave without any notice, sometimes for months at a time, and then return and everything would go back to normal. Zero would never mentioned it, and neither would Kaname. They just carried on, pretending these little blips didn't exist — or at least, pretending to Ichiru that nothing was happening. He knew he should feel offended that they thought he was that easy to fool, but back when this all began Ichiru had no idea how to react to it at all. He didn't know if he was supposed to comfort Zero during Kaname's absences or if he should be out there looking for him. Was he supposed to fix this? Was he meant to leave it alone? Zero behaved as he always did — he went about his days, not seeming to care that for all intents and purposes, he was being carelessly abandoned by his husband over and over again. It was utterly bizarre, and the one time when Ichiru asked if they were fighting or having marital problems, Zero had just laughed at him.

Laughed.

So when those times came along Ichiru would pretend along with him. They'd share the workload Kaname left behind, and when he came back Ichiru would keep his opinions to himself. He didn't want to add to the tension. He wouldn't know how to breach the subject in the first place. Sometimes he felt like the only sane person in a household of crazy.

But Zero knew how uncomfortable it had been for Ichiru to watch all of this happening and not being able to do a thing about it — he thinks that maybe Ichiru was relieved when the time came for him to leave. He wouldn't have to deal with this mess anymore. Zero didn't blame him for wanting to be rid of it.

"What does he want you to do?" Zero asks, abruptly diverting the conversation. "He just told me to come meet you here."

"Same. He said to come back here 'without drawing attention'. He says that everything must be kept hush-hush. What's going on, nii-san? Why can't he — why can't he ever just tell us what's going on?"

Zero shrugs, his eyes still trained on Ichiru's letter. He wants to see it even though he knows it isn't for him. "I don't pretend to know him any better now than I did before," he confesses quietly.

Ichiru sighs, running a hand over his face — just like Kaname did when he was particularly flustered. The three of them had lived together long enough for their habits and mannerisms to merge, getting picked up from each other and sticking over time.

"When will this… this thing between you two be over?" Ichiru asks, sounding to Zero like a child begging his parents to stop fighting. It is an odd comparison to make, but Zero's feels for him. They are — they were — a family. It must be hard for Ichiru to come back and find things have only gotten worse, and that he's still unable to do a thing about it because it's nothing to do with him. It's nothing to do with Zero either, so he shrugs again. This is all on Kaname and his damn secrets tearing them all apart.

Zero wraps an arm around Ichiru's shoulders and starts herding him past Mrs Kita's discreet stare and back to the Castle. He prompts Ichiru with questions about his travels and the people he has met, and as his eyes wander over his lost brother they keep returning to the ring hanging from a chain around his neck and he thinks about asking about it, but for now keeps quiet. There will be time to ask about that later. Their footsteps ring in the stark silence of the hall, and as Zero marvels at what a wonderful sound another pair of footsteps beside him is, Ichiru's face falls at how empty and cold the Castle has become. It was his home for long enough for the changes to be more than physical, more about the home than the house. As he turns to ask Zero about it, he sees that he is smiling quietly — the type of smile that demands silence, that means that he is truly grateful for something.

He has to shake Zero from his musing because it feels like he is drifting far, far away.

As he reconnects with reality, the smile disappears.

Ichiru raises his eyebrow and gestures forwards, suggesting that they keep walking.

Zero nods, another smile in place now, one that simply says to him: welcome home.

He'd like to say that everything goes back to normal then — that everything feels like it once was, but it doesn't. It blatantly doesn't. There's an enormous empty space left by one person and it is impossible to ignore. Zero doesn't want to acknowledge that Kaname is playing another game with them. The fact that it involves Ichiru already puts him even more on edge. They've both got mysterious letters which they aren't allowed to share with the other (he doesn't know what will happen if they do, but knowing Kaname it will likely self-destruct in their hands and they will lose both eyebrows and fingerprints); they're supposedly meant to follow Kaname's instructions via this, which means they are being watched by him, wherever he is.

Zero can't help but feel immensely anxious about this whole thing.

He's already picking it apart with what he knows of how Kaname goes about doing things, and for one thing — the fact that he is saying that they aren't even allowed to share information with each other makes him wary. Right now, the only thing they've been told to do is meet under the tree. It was the same instruction, but the fact that they were given separate letters means that that will soon probably change. Kaname will have different things he wants them to do, and he will want them done privately — in secret from each other. The strain this will put on his relationship with his brother he can't bear thinking about. They're awkward enough as it is, and that's thanks to Kaname. He has some nerve to ask for more from them.

But he does it because he knows they will not refuse him — because they both love him. He's playing with their hearts, but now Zero is more intrigued than angry about it. Perhaps he's grown to have a taste for mysteries after having married such a mysterious man, even at the cost of a little pain and stress. He kind of… wants to see where Kaname is going with this. It's the first contact he's had with him for many months, so he can't help but check the letter often, eagerly waiting for the next message to come through. He catches Ichiru slipping his hand in his pocket every now and again too, and his eyes narrow once when he pulls out the slip of paper and scans it, swiftly tucking it away once the message is read.

They're unpacking Ichiru's things back into his old room, half-dusting the furniture and sweeping away dust-bunnies.

"What does he want?"

Zero has a feeling they're going to be asking each other that question a lot in the days to come.

Ichiru frowns. "He says you need to eat. That you've not eaten in a while — "

"Son of a bitch. Where is he?!" Zero darts to the window and leans far out of it, scanning the scenery and Castle rock slabs underneath the window-ledge, even though he knows Kaname won't be there. His heart hammers in his chest at the thought of him watching them — watching him. He still cares, Zero blinks rapidly, he's still watching over me —

"Nii-san, let's go to the kitchens."

The tone of Ichiru's voice is much like how Kaname would've sounded — deeply concerned and firm. They are going to the kitchens and there is nothing Zero can say or do to stop it. He will eat. It's charming at first, but then infuriating that Zero feels he's being ganged up against, just like many times when Kaname and Ichiru would go on at him about his reckless behaviour — this time they are both urging him to eat.

"Yeah, whatever…" he leads them away, knowing his passiveness will worry Ichiru more, and that he won't say a damn thing about it. It's one of those moments where Ichiru thinks asking questions would be pushing Zero too far, when Zero is really only doing it to piss him off.

It pleases Zero how easily they fall into step together, as if they'd never been apart. When they enter the kitchen, Ichiru practically glides around the room like he's dancing — so confident and at ease in this space that he knows. He's reminded of the few lazy days when he, Ichiru and Kaname wanted nothing but time to themselves, and would send the maids and cooks all home so they could spend the day reading and snoozing and trying bites of Ichiru's creations till they could stomach no more, and Zero would have to step in to save the dinner. Ichiru loved cooking despite not being nearly as skilled as Zero, and he was taking it upon himself to make something for Zero. Something including pasta, cheese and… apples.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

"Are you in the mood for something spicy?" Ichiru asks as he pulls out a pot. Zero raises his eyebrow.

"No, and I'm not hungry," he says, meeting Ichiru's scowl with his own. "Seriously, I do eat. Just... not now."

Ichiru sets the pot on the stove and comes to Zero's side where he grabs his hands and kneads his knuckles. Just that action brings back memories of all those other times when Ichiru could do nothing else — offer him nothing but his hands to hold onto when Kaname was gone. This time though, Ichiru squeezes his hands, running his fingers over the fine bones clearly visible through his pale skin (where it's not covered in ink), all the green-blue veins rolling over them and poking through. He rubs the meaty parts of his thumbs and then wraps his fingers around his wrists like cuffs.

"Then why are you so thin?" The question caught Zero off-guard. Ichiru had mentioned it before, but he had brushed it aside until now, and now that Ichiru is examining his hands he cannot help but stare at them too. He hadn't ever seen so many veins visible, and through his almost translucent skin they looked oddly old and fragile, like the hands of a seventy-year-old man. They don't look like his hands anymore.

Ichiru releases him and turns back to the pot.

Later, Zero tries not to notice how much food he is given, tries not to comment on how interesting the flavour and texture combinations are, and refuses to look Ichiru in the eyes. His eyes keep returning to his hands though, and he can't help but think.

They bid each other goodnight with wavering smiles, still uncertain of the reason Kaname has brought them together again. Still somewhat dazed by the unexpected reunion. A flare of panic hits Zero the moment Ichiru's door shuts. It's completely irrational, but he not seeing him there, even for just a couple of seconds... it makes him wonder if he's imagined this whole day — if he's lost his mind so much that he'd imagined Ichiru coming back for some reprieve. He's not certain if he called out or not, but it's as if his brother senses his alarm because the door opens again. Ichiru's expression is bashful and flushed.

Zero takes his hand from his pounding chest and covers his face in embarrassment.

They're barely three yards apart, only the width of the corridor separating them, and yet.

"This is ridiculous," he says, but Ichiru hears him and chuckles.

"I kinda freaked when I couldn't see you," he admits quietly. Much to Zero's relief, it's not just him then. "It's been so long."

To think that six years ago was the last time they'd seen each other. Now, one minute apart was too much to bear.

Ichiru shifts awkwardly, his hand braced on the doorknob, the other one on the doorframe. He looks ready to either slam the door shut or leap through it — like he wants both to escape and embrace Zero. It's comforting to know he feels the same way. Zero sighs and opens his arms.

As expected, Ichiru rushes to meet him. They shuffle into Zero's room in stumbling steps, refusing to part one millimetre. Zero props his nose on his brother's shoulder so he can see above it and guide them to the bed. From there, it's like the years fall away and they are little boys again. It's not like they've done this a million times, but they wrestle the tucked-in covers out and whip them over their heads, hunching their backs so when the cloth floats down it creates a domed cave with them underneath. The look of wonder on Ichiru's face makes Zero laugh.

The laughter is infectious. It fills the cloth cavern with warm, moist breaths and peels away the harsh layers of pain the separation built. The brothers wriggle onto their backs simultaneously — mirror-like, identical in their movements. They lie side-by-side with their knees bent, to keep the cloth lifted. The ceiling is a sharp tent-like line now. It draws Zero's gaze to that point, to the crease. He gasps when Ichiru startles him out of his doze by gripping his hand.

"I wish he was here."

There's no need to clarify who he means, and it's that simple understanding that stabs Zero right through his tender heart he'd so long ago thought to be hardened stone. It's always Ichiru who can reach into him and pull out the truth of his feelings, revealing them to himself — showing him what he truly wants. He's not even angry now. Zero has accepted many things in his life. He's lived through the harshest of his days utterly alone, without his brother or lover beside him. It must be thanks to this that he's endured, that he survives whatever difficulties he has to face.

Ichiru reminds him that he's suffered, and that he suffers still.

"Every time... whenever you didn't know what to say to me when he would leave you would have such an angry expression on your face, like you were disappointed in him, or maybe yourself? I don't know," he finds himself saying, hushed to almost a whisper. He feels Ichiru's eyes on the side of his face and smiles bleakly. "I thought you hated him. I thought you might still feel that way."

Ichiru interlocks their fingers and lets out a shaky breath.

"I did, but…" he shakes his head. "… but it's not home without him. Now I just want him back."

It hurts. It hurts so much, hearing him say this — it hurts more knowing that this is how Ichiru feels. He speaks so freely, so much like a child — his heart is an open book, and it's crying out for Kaname — the person they need to keep them together. Who would've thought that two brothers-in-law would love each other so much? Zero certainly hadn't. In the early days of their marriage Zero remembers having discussed with Ichiru what he wanted to do with his life — if he wanted to be a Hunter or wanted to pursue a Human life. He was stronger now, strong enough to train to be a Hunter, but that wasn't all that there was to do in life. Did he want to go to university? Did he want to travel? Did he want to live with them? was the question he'd asked deliberately offhandedly, though the answer he'd hoped for was yes. Those days spent trying to help Ichiru decide his future plans were days Zero spent rethinking his own life decisions.

He didn't regret marrying Kaname — not for one second — and yet… he'd married someone whose life was already decided for him. Kaname was a King. Not 'a' King — the Original King. He was, by blood, the most powerful Vampire in the world, the King of all Kings, and Zero was now a part of his world. Zero had never asked Kaname what title he was to receive — Consort, Your Royal Highness, My Lord — he'd been called a great number of things over the years (including Queen by his other brother, also known as the idiot: Takamiya Kaito).

But whatever he was, marrying Kaname meant his life was decided from that day on. In the first few couple of years he'd stubbornly clung onto his Hunter roots, using the jobs the Association sent him on to keep the Council at bay, but unsurprisingly this backfired, provoking them into hounding him constantly, and this put a definite strain on their infant marriage. Zero knew he couldn't hold them off forever, nor did he want to push Kaname away. Eventually he convinced himself that his Vampire side was being neglected. He made the change to being a 'part-time Hunter', much to the amusement of that despicable Kaito.

But eventually even being made 'part-time' was phased out to early retirement from the job. Zero loathed that he was made to surrender it — that he let his Vampire side win, but… the day he'd slammed Bloody Rose on Kaname's desk right there in front of him, the way Kaname had looked at him cut through everything. He'd been so sincere, so glad yet guilty for Zero's sacrifice, and mournful — because Kaname knew, without a doubt, what it meant for them. More than the job — this was Zero's heritage, his family and upbringing that he was giving up for him.

It meant Zero had chosen Kaname above everything else.

And in that moment — like many other moments they'd shared — Zero had detested and adored his husband for tearing him away from what he most loved, yet for loving him enough for it to be worth it. He never wanted Kaname to look guilty again. The man had dealt with enough guilt in his lifetime.

Zero had kissed Kaname's ring, and then kissed his lips too.

It wasn't their wedding that changed Zero's life forever, it was the aftermath of it that really opened his eyes to what a change being married meant to one's life. Suddenly he realised that he'd unwittingly committed himself to far more than just living by Kaname's side when he'd married him. The questions he'd asked Ichiru were ones he was subconsciously (belatedly) asking himself — what did he really want to do with his life? Did he want to do this? It was far too late to back out now — and now he felt trapped doing things he didn't want to do, living where he didn't want to live. He was without dreams, without an escape. His saving grace was Kaname, and little did Zero know that less than a year after making this decision, he would start slipping away from him too.

Through this all, Ichiru stayed. Zero can't actually pinpoint the discussion that lead to him moving him in with them, but he was there from then on. He was there when Zero quit the Hunters', and he was there when Kaname left for the first time. He was there when Kaname came back and they bought a wooden house in a darling little bay no one knew was even there. They all moved in — the three of them — and that was a fond memory, that summer. They'd worked on the house all through the heat, deconstructing and reconstructing it to become better than it was. Zero remembered that summer as being the turning point for all of them — healing the rawness in him from leaving his old life behind, tethering them to a future he was now bound to.

When it got too hot they would run down to the lake and consider fishing, but then scare away all the fish as they splashed about in the water. Some days they'd drag out the mossy boat that had come with the house and go floating aimlessly across the water. It was more Ichiru and Kaname who did that than Zero. He preferred to watch them, sitting on the deck with his feet in the water. The lake was clear as glass and cool in the sweltering heat. It would have been peaceful, were it not for the two loons laughing their heads off in the middle of the lake. That joyful laughter that was able to be heard all the way from the shore and kept scaring away all the blasted fish.

For all the pain of losing what he had once most treasured — his Humanity, and then his Hunter lineage — Zero fell in love with this new family of his. Just the three of them. The old gang of school friends were still there, and close-by enough to be considered extended family, but it was really just him and Kaname and Ichiru.

"What are you doing here, nii-san?"

The question startles him from his thoughts. He turns to look at Ichiru and finds him staring right back, eyes huge and glassy, worrying his lip with concern. He's genuinely thrown by the question.

"You're thinking about the house."

How does he know?

"You always get that look on your face whenever you think about that summer," Ichiru explains softly.

Zero snorts. "I don't even like summer — I hate the heat."

It makes a grin break out on Ichiru's face (much better). "That's what you always say."

"I do," Zero insists, though no one is challenging him in the first place. "You don't even have to do anything to sweat. You could be flat on your ass sleeping and wake up soaked in your own body fluids."

"Then just go jump in the lake, or float on the boat in the middle of it where it's nice and cool." Ichiru pillows his head on his folded arms like an old hick, an adorably goofy smile splitting his face in two. It dims a little. "You never joined us out on the lake when we went. Why is that?"

"I don't know," he answers honestly. "I guess... I just preferred to watch. You and Kaname were such idiots… I probably wouldn't have liked being stuck on a boat in the middle of a lake with you two for hours. You didn't even take a paddle. Dumbasses."

"It's an oar, nii-san, and we didn't need it anyway. Kaname just floated us back when it got too late."

That was true. Zero used to watch them sail out till the ripples from their wake flattened out and became glass-water again, and the glistening surface would shine up the hard edges of the boat till they sparkled like diamonds, and then it would swallow them up at the near-horizon. The lake was so big that it had its own horizon. Zero remembered how their laughter drifted away, how the fear of being left behind in the shadows of the evening as the coolness of night would creep up on him. He would feel so cold there sometimes, standing alone on the shore.

But it was almost as if Kaname knew the moment Zero's anxieties woke, and then he'd bring them back. The boat wouldn't even touch the land before the two of them leapt out and then — and then they would be back, and he'd feel warm again.

"You still haven't answered me yet."

What are you doing here, nii-san? Was there an answer for that? If there was, Zero didn't know it. He had no idea what Ichiru meant by it, or how to answer him, but then he understood. Why are you here — why aren't you at our house? The Castle was another home to them, but less of a home than their lake-house. Later on in their marriage they were never left alone to live peacefully even though their job of ruling was being seen to well. The Council were never pleased with their lack of involvement in current affairs, even though they did involve themselves where they were needed and answered the call of duty accordingly. They had to move back to the Castle and share their time between two homes. It wasn't awful but it wasn't easy, and once again Zero found his peace stolen from him as their time together was whittled down to nothing. When Ichiru left they were permanently living at the Castle, and after that Zero hadn't the strength to leave it by himself.

He couldn't bear to live in a house with so many good memories — it was too sacred to him. There was not one place in that house that bore a fight or an argument (not the ones that mattered, anyway) or a painful reflection of the past. It was so new, so clean and pure. It was theirs — it belonged to the three of them. It made sense that one person could not live in a house made for three. There was too much space to fill. He didn't want that house to suffer from his melancholy, so he stayed away from it. I can't live there, was what he wanted to say, but he didn't need to speak for Ichiru to understand. He got a sympathetic nod, and then they curled up facing each other like they did when they were little.

He didn't want sympathy or an apology — he just wanted… he wanted —

"I don't know, what am I doing here?"

The unexpectedness of his response is clear in Ichiru's slack mouth. Zero smiles.

"You're right, otouto. In the morning, let's go back there. Let's go home."

"Let's go home."

Kaname sighs in relief, glad that things are going to plan. Now he can close his eyes and rest with the comfort of knowing they will be safe. Home. That word conjures images in his head that are both joyful and bittersweet. After those boat trips he always came back blistering red with sunstroke, but grinning all the while, even when Ichiru would dab at his sore spots with aloe gel and leave Zero to rub it in. The gel wouldn't do a thing, leaving him unbearably hot and grumpy, but even then he'd be happy.

It was impossible to not smile in that house.

More than anything, Kaname longs to see Zero smile again. They're so distant with each other these days that he doesn't know any other way to bring his happiness back other than to give him back his brother. He feels guilty for using Ichiru this way, knowing how horrified he'll be to discover how Zero is faring. And he would rightfully blame Kaname for it, because it was his fault. All of it.

He knows he's going to lose both of them at this rate, sooner or later.

But not yet.

There are still things to be done — things he needs doing which cannot be done without their help. Kaname dares not think about how difficult a reunion it will be when he returns, already dreading seeing the light go out of their eyes and their smiles wipe off their faces at the sight of him. It's going to hurt so much, but he won't linger. He won't do anything more to hurt them or anyone he loves ever again.

Kaname kicks uselessly, but he's pinned to the floor. He was able to blast the rocks off into smaller pieces before, but then they rained down like bullets and he'd been knocked out by a particularly heavy blow to the head. He'd woken up covered up to his waist, one leg twisted and broken under the weight, the other with a shattered foot. Every movement brought more rocks down, the air was dust-laden so he had to concentrate on breathing slowly and shallowly.

There was no way he was getting out of this alone.

Teleportation under this much stress wasn't wise, nor was transformation into animal form — that would be a spectacularly stupid move. He would most likely be crushed immediately. There wasn't the option of blasting it all into dust, because he knew from the pressure on him that there were heavier, bigger rocks pushing down on the ones pressing into him — he didn't know how many of these things there were. If he didn't blast them all, the other ones would definitely crush him to a smear —

Basically, he's making excuses for not trying to get out of here, because he can. He knows he can, but he doesn't want to. If at all possible, he wants to delay he his return — the fear of losing them too much for him to face.

Kaname can survive being crushed, broken and shattered to pieces. He can blast all the rocks in this mountain with nothing more than a thought — but losing them? He won't survive that. He's weighed down by more than rocks. His fears of rejection when he goes back to Zero are what holds him back, the guilt of keeping yet another secret from his beloved too much to bear. In all truth he wants to stay down here where he can hide. For the time-being, he's okay with being a coward. It's actually a comfort to pretend he's helpless and alone. It's nice to want to be saved, for once, rather than having to save himself.

When the time comes that they need him, he hopes they'll come get him. It's a selfish thought, but he hopes that when they find him, they will be so horror-struck by his condition that they will forget all the troubles between them and embrace him with welcome arms —

It's a hopeless dream. A fantasy. Kaname might wriggle out of this mess before then, because it isn't the most comfortable of positions to say the least — or maybe he won't. He's not sure. He doesn't want to be found like this only to find that they don't love him anymore. That would be devastating. On the other hand, he doesn't want them to find him perfectly okay either, because then what would've been the point of them coming? He wants them to come. To him. For him. So badly.

Until then, he has to wait.

In the meantime, he watches over them. He feels like a right creep, watching the brothers curled to each other like two parentheses and marvelling over how Ichiru has grown and Zero has shrunk. He knows that Zero is dreaming of the house, and after talking about it he doesn't doubt that Ichiru is as well. The little pieces of paper are tucked in their trouser pockets, hanging off the chairs in their respective rooms. They won't find his messages till morning.

Kaname nicks his fingertip with his tooth and reaches up towards the tiny vent above his right shoulder. His blood rises up into black smoke and forms itself into the words he wants to write. He waves them off to their respective papers, and then he closes his eyes and waits.