Disclaimer: I do not own Loveless, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to Yun Kouga

Notes: Yeah, I got bored and the first line popped into my head from nowhere and I needed to do something with it. This little drabble thing turned out to be that. Drabbles help quite a bit, I must say to clear the mind. I think that now I have this out of the way, as small as it may be, I can now concentrate properly on the next part of Black Flames.

Yeah, so there will probably be a few more drabbles, and I may create another 'story' like this for Merlin at the very least, which is the other fandom I feel most comfortable in. Anyway enjoy this one.

Themes: Remembrance. Death.

Promises aren't like rules – they aren't made to be broken. They are sacred contracts between people, spoken in trust or love or sometimes even fear. They should never be broken, and those who dare to undermine the sanctity of promises should be punished.

Seimei had broken his promise.

Ritsuka lay on his stomach atop the slightly crumpled sheets of his bed. A ridge of bunched up material pressed into his abdomen uncomfortably, but he ignored it. His pillow lay cradled in the nooks of his elbows as he stared intently at his hands. He had small hands with almost square palms, indented with the usual marks and curves of any other hand. His could be considered a mite to long for his palms, and coloured and uninteresting ivory.

It was his two pinky fingers that held the brunt of his intense gaze. Dark eyes lingered on them, as if condemning them to the very depths of hell. He blinked harshly, clearing his eyes of a threatening blurriness before he closed his eyes completely.

His two little fingers curled together, resting comfortably. He inhaled deeply, scrunching his eyes shut. If he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated hard enough, his left hand could transform, morph into a finger of more length and warmth then his own, one that was soft and smooth to the touch.

If he bit his lip and kept reality from steamrolling the whole experience, from that finger a hand would bloom, leading up into an arm and a shoulder and finally from there bleeding into the lithe figure, dark hair and kind eyes he treasured so dearly.

"I'll never leave you, Ritsuka. I promise." Kind eyes. Kinder smile.

"Pinky promise." Petulant pout. Proffered fingers.

Heart-warming chuckles. Gentle acceptance. "I pinky promise that I, Aoyagi Seimei, will never, ever leave you, Aoyagi Ritsuka, alone." Another indulgent grin.

Ritsuka smiled, forgetting himself, forgetting the power of his own imagination and snapped his eyes open. The illusion was shattered like a glass figurine and he was left staring at his own entwined hands. He sighed, ripping his fingers apart and dropping his head onto the pillows. He didn't bother to ignore the burning sensation behind his eyes, nor the tickling trail of bitter tears that escaped.

No, promises aren't like rules – they cause so much more agony when broken.