A/N: Welcome to part three of the Echo Series created by yours truly. This is the first part of the second Love and Treachery portion of the series, and the first Trial and Bonding portion can be read my old Malenless profile. I recommend you read that portion first, as the events are parallel to this story's chapters up to chapter 4.

Feel free to skip this entire portion of the series if you dislike ML; ML stands for men's love. Think shounen-ai or yaoi, only more realistic—none of that blushing constantly shit, or uke and seme stereotypes.

Like the previous parts, this story is told as an album (a music album) of events. The underlying theme of the series is echoes. Title is from "coup de théâtre", which means a sudden dramatic turn of events. A cache can mean a place for concealment and safekeeping, as of valuables.

Update July 26, 2018: So. This fanfiction is as old as dirt, so there are a lot of things that I hate about it. But what I really mean to say is that I understand the first several chapters of this until "chapter" six are complete and utter messes, full of unnecessary word dumps and convoluted time hopping. I apologize on behalf of my younger self. A lot was happening when I uploaded these chapters. If you'd like to read more organized versions of these first six "chapters", you can read this on my AO3 account, too! Just type Echoup de théâtre in the search bar and you'll find it! Thanks and read on~!

Intro: Sputter

Lose your mind...Lose it twice

—Saybia, "Snake Tongued Beast"

His world, his most sacred place, shivered and fractured before his eyes. The cracks spread and cut into every impossible surface, even the very sky itself. Every move to turn caused a pain to spread through his being, leaving a horrible sensation in its wake reminiscent of pins and needles. Something, some outside source, was the cause of this pain within his soul, but he hadn't a clue as to what it could possibly be. He clenched his hand at his side, scanning his surroundings in agony and muddled clarity. Shinsō. Where was Shinsō? Then, with a feeling not unlike a physical pull, he was thrown from out of his disintegrating sanctuary and into the cold, cruel reality of the living world.

Eyes snapping open, he jolted forward with a choked gasp from the pain and rush of being forcibly removed from his inner world. His head hit back against the brick wall and he emitted a fierce shout, blood gushing from his mouth as the strange throbbing seemed to press against his chest. It became difficult to breathe, and his body trembled from exertion. More blood began to escape nearly every other orifice: his nose, ears, even his eyes. Through it all, he still couldn't distinguish the cause or origin of the pain. It was simply...everywhere.

A sardonic thought passed through the depths of his subconscious: what a perfect, pathetic end for a traitor. He had learned the depths of Hell were saved for traitors, and he wondered with a grimace of a bloody smile if there was enough room for him. He doubted the intentions behind his treachery were enough to spare him Hell and torture; he took lives, innocent and otherwise, betrayed and backstabbed, and merely smiled through it all. Regardless of everything he wanted, desired, and intended...he truly deserved no mercy.

As life slowly drained from him, he became aware his lifelong companion, Shinsō, was trying to reach him, but garbled sound resounded in his soul instead. He couldn't even sense his zanpakutō, and this deeply frightened him. But perhaps this was what death was, and though he was afraid, he had no choice but to accept. There was no reason to hold on...yet he continued to live.

Why, he wondered through the pain, was he still alive? Why was he still holding on, and how dare he? His lifelong desire had ended in failure, and only more suffering awaited him. Why was his body hurting him like this...? Why couldn't he die...?

It felt as if many years had passed since he first dragged his wretched body from the rubble he nearly died upon. Unable to move in his physical, and mental, condition, he continued to stare aimlessly at the emptiness that made up a dark wall before him. Then, what appeared to be a cloud of darkness literally moved before his bloodstained eyes, but he spared it no attention, or perhaps couldn't either way, caring not as to why it didn't continue moving on as the many others had for the past...years...?

This darkness, unnatural, as it couldn't be otherwise, continued to hover above him for a few minutes more before swiftly disappearing. Time passed impossibly slow, until yet another, larger shadow hovered above him as well. Though unable to focus, he then thought he heard an echo of some sort emit from it; someone speaking?

...But what was this? His body was being moved...carefully lifted and wrapped in a warm (so warm)...something...and into what could have been arms or something to lie on. He was placed gently onto his back, and continued to stare faintly at the darkness called a sky, watching with still, half-blind eyes as the dim scene before him moved; he was being moved. That part of him so stubbornly holding onto life seemed to exhale with a yearning, welcomed relief. And following that exhale, he found his afflicted eyes unable to stay open any longer.

For the first time in too long an agonizing passage of time, just as he heard a voice clear as day murmur ringing words, his eyes closed, locking him behind a painful and dreamless slumber.

"You're alive."