#TH 03. ┊ revelations. ( SOULFULEMPATHY. )

[thiefofcrows-a]

Plotted starter for @lostxtosunlight

       It had been two months since Yuki had officially taken the crow and cup tattoo and joined the Dregs. Raito hadn’t tried to bother them again — Kaz assumed he was too busy with doctor prescribed physical therapy. The thought shouldn't have given him so much satisfaction. Yuki, on the other hand, had spent his time training diligently and taking on jobs here and there as he grew more confident in his skills. They’d begun of course with hand-to-hand combat training and it was clear he already had some skill to begin with. As Yuki grew physically stronger, fighting him became more of a challenge.

       Once Kaz felt satisfied with that progress, he'd introduced knives into the equation — which, much to his delight, Yuki already had significant practice in that area as well. They'd been working on various strategies. Kaz gave Yuki insight into hiding at least two knives in his clothes at all times — which, given the keen way in which Yuki paid attention and, eventually, mastered it, it reminded him of when they were children. Kaz excidedly showing Yuki a new magic trick he'd been practicing, Yuki attempting it himself, Kaz simply delighted to have someone who did more than just feel an obligation to indulge him.

       The art of throwing knives effectively had been next and that took some time — it wasn't an easy skill to learn by any means, but just like with everything else so far, Yuki could eventually hit his target effectively with every throw. The more his skills developed, the more confident in himself he became ... and whatever tender things Kaz felt for Yuki before seemed to grow louder, more insistent. They became more of a heated smouldering thing that was difficult for Kaz to discern the meaning of — but with every stirring, he simply shut it down, burying it deeper.

       Unfortunately for Kaz, it didn't matter; those feelings somehow seemed to rise to the surface again and again. While he always ignored it when he saw it, Yuki's dark eyes often contained something a little heated and inquisitive — as if Kaz were a fascinating puzzle to solve. He wanted it to stop and he wanted Yuki to keep digging deeper simultaneously. It filled him with a sense of dread, terror and desire.

       Now, they were half way through training, having graduated to using Yuki's skill with knives along with hand-to-hand combat. He was slower today, seeming drained — and all Kaz had the mind to do was push him. At one point he swiped one of the training knives from Yuki's hand and dragged him close by the shirt with the other. He slid the training knife along his waist, giving an approximation of stabbing Yuki through the gut.

       ❝In a fight, the enemy will use any excuse, any opening to gain the upper hand. You don't have the luxury of taking it easy because you're not feeling your best. You have to ignore it, grit your teeth and push through. It's either that or you die.❞ Kaz let go of Yuki's shirt, his fist briefly pressing into the others chest just enough to nudge him back as he did so. ❝ Again. Try not to get fatally stabbed this time.❞

[thiefofcrows-a]

       Kaz could feel Yuki's reluctance, his inclination to recoil. It felt it like the same knee jerk reaction he would have with anyone who tried to get too close, anyone who tried to lay their hands on him without warning. He was willing to drag others in, potentially expose them to glimpses of Yuki's deepest fears and insecurities — simply because he couldn't stand the idea of Yuki being in his head like that again.

       He knew it was selfish of him, but for Kaz it was merely a question of survival, like always. Letting anyone in that deep filled him with a deep seeded terror, a desire to escape by any means necessary. He couldn't afford to let someone see the weaker parts of himself, couldn't allow anyone to see that he was not, in fact, a fearless monster that was too terrifying to even consider betraying.

       Weakness was like a siren's call, luring the real monsters that Kaz could only craft the illusion of being.

       Nonetheless, as he held Yuki's gaze and he offered his promise, Kaz could make no other conclusion aside from it being genuine. No lies to be found that he could see. He simply offered a single, affirming nod and any extra tension wound throughout his muscles gradually began to bleed out of him. With Yuki's request, however, Kaz tilted his head slightly, brows quirking upward, his expression clearly conveying a simple truth — of course not.

        ❝I've no interest in letting others in on your secret,❞ he agreed easily. Then Kaz averted his gaze to the table where the training weapons lay and he gave a nod of his head towards it, glancing back to Yuki once more.  ❝Just keep it under control this time. Shall we? ❞

Even though that softness from Kaz retracted, it didn’t disappear completely, and only when he realized that did he allow himself to relax slightly. One mistake hadn’t ruined everything. The image of Kaz allowing Yuki to gently touch his cheek, where he wasn’t gripped by that sheer panic, where he may even be comforted by it, entered Yuki’s mind before he could stop it. God, he longed for that one touch. He longed for that safety and trust, not just in Kaz, but in Yuki himself. It felt selfish, and yet Yuki ached for it deep in his bones.

His lips pulled into a deeper frown, and Yuki resisted the urge to look away again. The idea of one or two more people being involved, one or two Dregs who might see into Yuki’s very soul, had Yuki mentally recoiling. But he knew he didn’t have a choice. Kaz was right – this couldn’t stay unchecked and uncontrolled.

The implications of Kaz suggesting others be part of the training wasn’t lost on him, either. He felt a similar sense of Kaz drawing back too, and he didn’t blame him. Not in the slightest.

When Kaz’s gaze sharpened, while Yuki didn’t quite feel a sense of ill intent, he saw this for what it was; a threat. And he knew Kaz would make good on it, too. But somehow this was different from when he’d seen Kaz threaten others. With them, his eyes were so cold, they could freeze someone where they stood. His voice was sharp like a knife slicing through their chest. Yuki knew what Kaz looked like in the face of an enemy, and this was not it. Even so, he knew Kaz was serious – and he knew there would be consequences if Yuki broke his trust.

There was no scenario where the thought would ever cross his mind, he wanted to say. Kaz had his loyalty, maybe even devotion at this point. Yuki would rather cut off his own hand than betray what trust he’d gained…but he knew that Kaz wouldn’t believe his words alone. Yuki had to prove it – and he fully intended to do so.

“I won’t,” he said, making sure to hold Kaz’s eyes. “I promise.”

The idea of the other Dregs knowing Yuki’s deepest secrets, knowing about the car crash, about his foster family, about Raito…it made his stomach clench in panic. He didn’t know why Kaz would ever bring it up to anyone. And he knew Kaz wasn’t cruel enough to betray Yuki’s secrets just for fun. But still, he needed that reassurance – one he wasn’t sure he would actually receive.

“I know I have no right to ask this,” he began hesitantly. “But…you won’t tell anyone what you saw from me either, will you?”

[thiefofcrows-a]

       That sense of dread reached Kaz clearly, as if he could read it in Yuki’s dark eyes, in the slight tightening of his brow or the shift of his mouth. Of course, his first instinct was to wonder why? Regardless, he didn’t have long to mull over the thought as Yuki began to explain. Kaz remembered the things he had gradually begun to notice about him in the beginning, when Yuki insisted on coming around despite his warning. The subtle sensation he felt only in Yuki’s presence, the way those sensations always lead to a shift in Yuki’s approach or his words.

       He remembered returning from the fight with Raito and abruptly feeling like he was being stripped bare as they’d locked eyes. And, of course, whatever had happened yesterday — Kaz had evidently been keeping Yuki out of his head for the most part, as it was clear he’d been catching small glimpses here and there. But yesterday ... ❛Suddenly, I felt … everything.❜ Again came the burst of panic.

       Had he caught a glimpse of the truth, the things Kaz Brekker had practically strangled to death in order to survive his reality?  What would that mean if he had? As Kaz too had caught a glimpse inside of Yuki’s head, he knew the answer to the next question without even a half second of hesitation — would Yuki use that information against him? No. The certainty of it terrified Kaz, deep into his bones; there was no need for the fear, but his survival instinct persisted heedlessly.

       Of course Kaz caught the movement, as he’d been forced to be hypervigilant when it came to touch. It had always been a matter of survival … but he’d never instantly understood the meaning behind it before, despite the fact that it had always been easy to ignore it. The desire was there, an irresistible urge so strong that Kaz almost felt it himself in response — but he shoved it down, stifled it, like he always did.

       To save himself the agony of thinking too deeply about any of that, Kaz latched onto Yuki’s questions instead, grateful for a way out.

       ❝It won’t be easy,❞ said Kaz, the softness having pulled back slightly, but it wasn’t all gone; like a terrified animal, retreating from an outstretched hand into its hiding spot … but still, it watched from within, cautious and wary. ❝But just because you couldn’t control it then doesn’t mean you can’t learn. Wield it like a knife — if you pierce someone with it, you can hurt them. Whether from the information you glean or because you cause them pain, make them freeze … but, that means involving one or two other people in your training to practice on.❞ Because I never want to feel that again, he thought, but didn’t say. ❝It could be useful, too, to ensure we’re never lied to.❞

       Kaz circled back to the thought of the feeling of Yuki in his head, mulled over his options as he averted his eyes. As much as he didn’t want to acknowledge what had happened at all, he knew he had to. If for no other reason than to ensure Yuki understood the consequences if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. His eyes found Yuki’s again and there was an undercurrent of something determined in them now, dangerous too … but he felt a twist of reluctance along with it.

       ❝Whatever it is you found,❞ he began. ❝Disregard it. And if I catch even the slightest hint that you’ve spoken a word about it to anyone else … I have no mercy for traitors.❞ Especially traitors who have earned any trust from me.

The one thing Yuki did not expect to feel from Kaz when he entered was relief. It was so slight, so subtle, it shocked him to feel it at all. But some of that heavy dread lifted from Yuki's shoulders as Kaz approached. Not angry, not upset.

He was used to being under the scrutiny of those dark eyes, but somehow this time felt...different. They weren't hard or unreadable. Not warm either, of course, but somewhere in the middle. That alone tipped Yuki off to some kind of change -- and it was welcome.

But then Kaz spoke in a voice that Yuki would call soft if he didn't know better. He hadn't witnessed softness in Kaz since they were kids. Yuki felt that cold dread trickle back into his chest. Dread that filled Yuki with doubt and caution, dread that whispered what if, what if. Did he dare let himself believe in this change of attitude? Did he dare trust Kaz?

Often Yuki felt like Kaz was the only person he could trust. He was unyielding, strong-willed (and hard-headed). No amount of money or threats could tempt him to the other side. Yuki believed in that, believed in him.

So Yuki took a breath in.

"I'm an empath," he said, like ripping off a bandaid. "I-I can feel other peoples' emotions, when they lie, or -- when they want to hurt someone. I don't know how, but it's always been this way."

He hesitated. "Everyone has an aura, an energy unique to each person. You have one. That's how I knew it was you, walking down the street." A million years ago. "It's changed a little, but...deep down, it feels the same as it did before."

Not giving Kaz a chance to say anything, a long-overdue explanation tumbled from Yuki's lips. "Anyway, I -- I was exhausted from the last job. I used it too much." He paused. "And I don't know how I did it. But I lost control, and suddenly I felt..."

Suffocating darkness, rancid decay, sweet honey and a flower he could not name.

"...Everything."

That familiar, irresistible urge to touch Kaz flared up inside him again. Just like before, he shoved it down -- but it stubbornly fought him this time. Yuki's hand started to raise before he caught himself, quickly dropping it back to his side. Maybe he'd get lucky -- maybe Kaz wouldn't read into it.

Kaz, who saw everything, with an incredible mind and intuition. Yuki closed his eyes briefly, a different kind of dread bearing down on him. Fuck.

"I'm sorry." What was he sorry for? The invasion, or the movement of his hand? All of it, everything.

"I didn't mean to take your choice away. And I didn't mean..." He sighed, his gaze falling off to the side. "I don't know what you saw from me. But I didn't mean for that to happen, either. I didn't even know I could do it."

His voice failed him for a few seconds. Kaz's words fully caught up to him, giving him a lifeline. "How can I use this?" he asked, unsure what to do besides move forward. "I couldn't move. Wouldn't that just -- make me vulnerable?"

[thiefofcrows-a]

       Kaz saw Yuki flinch and he tried to ignore the sting in his heart. He was reminded of the ache of tears at the back of his throat and he swallowed thickly, took a steadying breath. It was all he could do to stifle the way his panic forced it to come out in sharp bursts. His head was pounding, he felt raw and painfully exposed and every twinge of pain came with a sense of acute understanding of what Yuki seemed to be feeling.

       Maybe — the pain was distracting and all it made Kaz want to do was withdraw … but he physically couldn’t back away any further. Soon enough, with his muttered apology, Yuki retreated, leaving Kaz alone. With it came a gradual relief from the continuous thrums of pain. All that was left was a hollow ache and the lingering panic — the latter of which eventually receded, exhaustion draping over him like a heavy blanket.

       He too retreated to his room on the top floor, ignoring anyone who tried to speak to him — their collective voices caused his head to throb, but tension finally bled out of him once his own door was closed and locked behind him. It was the first time in a long time that Kaz felt exhausted enough to actually collapse into bed and sleep. It had taken a great deal of effort to remove layers of clothing, to change into something comfortable for once — but as soon as his head hit the pillow, Kaz drifted off near instantly for once.

       Even asleep, however, his unconscious mind puzzled over what it was he’d experienced, how it had all happened, what it meant. He had the terrifying sense that Yuki now knew things about him that no one else did — which had already been true before, considering the brief time they’d met as children. It was believed that Kaz Brekker had practically materialized out of nowhere, that he wasn’t even human. That the touch of his bare skin burned like brimstone, that he had claws beneath his leather gloves, whispers that he was, in fact, a demon that roamed the Earth.

       Yuki knew that he’d been nothing but a hopeful child once, that he’d had a big brother, that he’d loved hot chocolate, puzzles and magic tricks.

      Kaz suspected he now knew more about Yuki than anyone else did, too — his own secrets hadn’t been stolen without being given foreign secrets in return. Yuki, who’d lost everyone he loved in one terrible moment, knew exactly who was to blame and felt the simmering rage of revenge that Kaz understood so well. Yuki, who’d taken nearly as many beatings as Kaz, who’d been manipulated into letting someone violate him over and over again for years.

       Yuki, who retained his good will, his gentleness, his hope, despite the continuous horrors he’d been subjected to … who struggled to believe he didn’t deserve all of it in some way or another.

       The warm, gentle relief he’d felt sweep through him when Yuki had seen Kaz staring back at him and thought I am safe … it was a sensation, a feeling that he believed would haunt him for the rest of his days. Perhaps haunt wasn’t exactly the right word, but … every single time he saw Yuki’s expression soften, it would no doubt hit him like a wave every time. Kaz didn’t want any of it, he wanted to tear it all from his mind, from his chest.

       But he couldn’t.

       The next day, Kaz had made up his mind to completely disregard all of that for the time being —forever, if he could manage, but somehow he doubted it— and instead focus on the ability itself. It could be a tool, a weapon that could be used effectively in a fight, maybe even more manipulative purposes … but even if Yuki elected to avoid using it that way, they had to ensure it never happened again, not without proper control. It could be just as lethal to Yuki as to someone else and that thought filled him with an urgent anxiety that he wasn’t inclined to dwell on.

       When he entered the training room, Kaz was relieved to find Yuki waiting for him. A part of him had worried that he might not show — but he practically sensed Yuki’s anxiety, his dread … and those small trickles of hope that somehow still remained, despite everything. Kaz couldn’t explain how he knew this; it came to him as easily as breathing, without conscious effort and it too was something he wasn’t inclined to dwell on, either.

       Instead, he approached Yuki, his dark eyes steady but perhaps not as impenetrable as he’d like them to be. He stopped a foot or so away from Yuki and, after placing both leather clad hands atop the crows head, leaned on his cane. Kaz tilted his head thoughtfully, his expression still containing its sharp edges, but … it was softer somehow.

       ❝I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what happened yesterday,❞ he rasped, his tone conveying both patience and authority simultaneously. ❝Whether or not you want to use it in a fight is entirely up to you — but leaving it unchecked and uncontrolled is not an option, Yuki.❞

There was a strange mix of panic and shame inside Yuki, the latter coloring his cheeks red. He felt exposed. Not knowing for sure if Kaz had seen anything -- and if he had, Yuki was desperate to know what it was -- triggered Yuki's intense desire to hide. His body had been violated plenty of times, but this was different. Never before had Yuki felt so stripped bare, and if his body hadn't been holding him prisoner, he would've fled immediately.

With Kaz's words the spell was broken, and Yuki could finally move. Just in time to catch himself as a pair of gloved hands shoved him back by the shoulders. Kaz's emotions, even muted, flared up in Yuki's mind, like a rough touch to an exposed nerve. Yuki winced as though he'd yelled. His head was pounding and he felt raw.

He feels violated, too.

The thought came without warning, the realization that this was Yuki's fault. He had no right to feel this way when he'd been the one to forcibly expose the inner parts of himself to Kaz, accident or not.

Guilt, cold and heavy, flooded Yuki's chest, rose up into his throat. Kaz was looking at him like an animal wounded, trapped. There was no doubt in his mind that Kaz hadn't wanted Yuki to take a glimpse into his soul, either. He should apologize. But right now, all Yuki could think about was getting away.

Yuki realized the taste of decay had disappeared, replaced by sweet honey and a flower that Yuki could not picture. The new taste eased some tension in Yuki's shoulders. It was comforting, familiar, but he wasn't sure why.

"I..." Yuki looked away. I'm sorry. Two words that shouldn't have held Yuki hostage, and yet they were impossible to get out -- but until he got them out, he couldn't run away.

"Sorry," he mumbled. And with that his body was released. Yuki turned and forced himself not to run back to his room. Once there, he relaxed somewhat, but that guilt and shame remained. Yuki felt heavy, like there was a weight from within his chest pulling him down. He locked the door.

Finally, he let himself think about what he'd seen, what he'd felt. Pain, fear. So much fear. A black abyss that swallowed him whole, where no screams could be heard. It was so unexpected. Not him, never him. Nothing scared Kaz Brekker. Except...

He'd guessed how Jordie died. But such a visceral reaction to the dead bodies spoke of something else, something worse, Yuki just couldn't put his finger on it. One emotion colored those horrendous memories; betrayal.

Kaz had always been a fan of solving puzzles. Now Yuki felt as though he'd been given one instead, one Kaz himself couldn't finish. Glass shards that would inevitably cut Yuki's hands as he put them together.

If he were given permission to try...Yuki was sure it would be worth it. But only if Kaz allowed it. He wouldn't invade his mind like that ever again.

He and Kaz were scheduled to train the next day, and a sense of dread filled Yuki alongside a strange urgency. He barely slept. And by the time the clock's hands shifted into place, he still hadn't figured out what to say.

But he had to say something. He had to apologize, he had to make sure Kaz was okay, that Yuki hadn't damaged him by losing control. He didn't have the luxury of running away this time.

As each minute passed in the training room, Yuki felt less and less hopeful. Was he hoping Kaz would come, or was he dreading it? More confusing feelings plagued his mind, but still Yuki waited, too anxious to focus on one thing for too long. He looked at the walls, the windows, the training equipment and weapons. But the floor was where his gaze always returned.

The door opened and Yuki looked up. Now was the time to find out just how much he'd screwed up. Images flashed through his mind before he could stop them -- being kicked out of The Dregs, cast out onto the street, leaving Yuki well and truly alone.

Of course, he'd been there before, hadn't he?

[thiefofcrows-a]

       It all had happened so fast, faster than Kaz anticipated — Yuki's movements had shifted from slow and distracted to swift, smooth and focused in a heartbeat. He'd expected at least one or two more times where he'd have to repeat himself. Before Kaz could find his footing, he was being bodily shoved against the far wall with considerable force, a training knife shoved against his throat. The way Yuki's dark eyes suddenly went blank wasn't lost on him by any means, but everything else was louder, more insistent.

       A flood of emotion was ignited within Kaz, many of which he'd spent these last few months burying, swallowing down. A burst of nervous excitement that was difficult for him to understand, that sweeping sense of desire that made him want to pull Yuki impossibly closer, the ache in his chest that stirred every time he gazed into those soft, brown eyes. However, the press of a body against his own without having the time to anticipate it also dredged up sensations and memories that sent undercurrents of panic through him.

       He was surrounded by corpses from all angles, all in varying states of decay, feeling suffocated and trapped within. The rancid smell so vivid, so violating that it felt like it was being forced into his mouth, that he was being forced to swallow it whole. Please, please make it stop.

       Mercifully, all of that was swept aside, swallowed by something completely different, something Kaz instantly recognized as not belonging to him merely by the feeling. His head felt tight, an ache bleeding through as if the pressure were pushing the physical limits of his mind.

       Everything came in vivid flashes — a small room with beige walls, a popcorn ceiling that he spent so much time staring up at, trying to escape his mind and body that he never wanted to see a popcorn ceiling ever again. The constant tension and awareness that was cast outward at all times while within those walls, listening for familiar footsteps followed by the creak of hardwood floors, a knock at the door, the turning of a handle. A door he could never lock.

       A cheap cologne filled his senses and it was recognized instantly — Raito. The feelings it sparked felt split, like two minds feeling different emotions simultaneously; disgust and so much rage, he saw red. Then, a suffocating sense of dread, defeat. Vulnerability that was dangerous, much more like feeling violated, but ... another split formed there. Doubt and denial tainted that assessment in contrast to Kaz's own complete certainty of its truth.

       Fear churned into the mix, but it was different than any kind of fear Kaz had ever felt. Helplessness, frustration, a deep sense of loneliness that he recognized within himself. The ache of bruises, wetness in his nostrils, the familiar copper smell that told him it was blood.

       The last bit was more of a brief flash — the bright, blinding flash of headlights, pain, shards of glass, a grief and terror so profound that it brought forth the ache of tears. Eyes that Kaz recognized, even if they were much younger — Isen. The name bringing forth a familiar sense of rage that Kaz knew all too well.

       Finally, Yuki's face finally came into focus and it took a long moment for Kaz to comprehend what was happening. Even when he realized it—that Yuki had been in his head, just as Kaz had been in Yuki's —he found his mind reeling, trying to understand how. The desire to understand was utterly overshadowed, however, with a viceral kind of panic and terror that swept through Kaz like a wave. He was a wild animal caught in a trap and he had every mind to gnaw off his own leg if it would get him out of it. Let me out, let me out, let me out.

       ❝ Let go of me, Yuki,❞ Kaz's low rasp sounded rough, dangerous, but pained as he tried as hard as he could to mask the utter terror that seeped into his veins, but ... he knew it was easily audible. Instead of terror, he could mask it with rage, with the threat of sharp teeth. It was all he had left and, as Yuki did not move, it surged through him with so much force, Kaz couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to. His fingers dug into whatever part of Yuki he could get his hands on and he shoved. ❝Get your fucking hands off me. ❞

The training was intense, but Yuki felt no desire for Kaz to ease up. On the contrary, he was happy each time Kaz upped the difficulty -- because every time he did, it challenged Yuki, and the ache in his body at the end of the day told him he was getting closer and closer to where he wanted to be.

He'd been okay with the unrelenting way Kaz trained. It hadn't been until he'd heard that first you did well today, that Yuki realized there was more than one goal to reach for. Now it wasn't just because he needed to be stronger, stronger than Raito, than Isen, and anyone else who threatened them. Now he also found himself working to become someone Kaz respected, treated as an equal. Which shouldn't have been such a strong motivator. And yet...

Yuki hadn't just been training his body. Thanks to his increased skill, he'd been given permission to accompany some other Dregs on jobs. At first he'd picked up on reluctance, suspicion, skepticism. But by the end of each job, those feelings had shifted. Now it felt a little more like trust.

But just as Yuki never failed to catch a lie, malicious intent revealed itself to him in an instant -- the kind that sparked right before someone struck.

This job had absolutely drained him. It had been crucial, in the face of so many enemies, to keep track of who was next to attack. Thanks to Yuki's efforts, they'd all gotten out unscathed. But by the time he'd gotten back to the Slat, he'd collapsed into bed.

It seemed that exhaustion still lingered in his body, and Yuki was innately attuned to Kaz's mind. Not necessarily because he wanted to be. He felt like the control he always clutched onto was slipping from his fingers. Distracting him in a way that would be lethal outside of these walls.

So Yuki nodded as Kaz lightly nudged him a step back. They returned to their usual starting points. Grit your teeth and push through.

Kaz attacked.

Without knowing how he did it, Yuki had Kaz against the wall, a knife to his throat. And for a fraction of a second, he felt pride, until his body went unnaturally still, his eyes drained of life. He wasn't seeing Kaz as he was now, in the present. Without meaning to, Yuki had singlehandedly knocked down the walls Kaz so diligently kept up, and emotions flooded Yuki's mind. They roared by as sure as a river at its highest tide, flashed like lightning in black clouds.

Rays of sunshine seared behind his eyelids, colored beautiful oranges and reds. Scalding and comforting all at once, its warmth wrapped Yuki in a crushing embrace. But then it froze to ice. Yuki was cast into darkness.

And he was afraid.

Panic took over his paralyzed body, crawling beneath his skin, a ruthless vice around his heart that pulled tighter and tighter. The darkness was thick and inky, and it absorbed every sound Yuki tried to make.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before the darkness ebbed away, and he was a child again. Yuki passed by the piles and piles of bodies in the streets as the crisp air of the oncoming winter ruffled through his hair, caressed his face. It carried a rancid smell that made him gag.

Grief. Grief, dripping with anger, despair, betrayal. A frigid thing that raised goosebumps on Yuki's rotting flesh. The taste of decay forced its way into his mouth and down his throat, until Yuki felt like he couldn't breathe, tears welling up in his eyes. Please. Please, make it stop.

Finally, finally, he could draw another breath -- but that taste lingered in his mouth, and Yuki had never wished so vehemently that he could cut out his own tongue.

Kaz himself came back into focus. And the look on his face dredged up a sense of terror that was unmistakably his own. Because Kaz, somehow, someway, had stripped Yuki bare until his soul was in plain sight.

He knows.

Yuki couldn't force his body into action. He was forced to stay there, unnervingly still. But it was the clear absence of hostility, of maliciousness, of rage, that slowly brought Yuki back to himself. No, he wasn't in danger. For the first time since Isen had robbed him of it, Yuki was safe.

His body thawed at an agonizingly slow pace, imprisoning him as his mind caught up. He felt dazed, exhausted. He could still taste that revolting decay lingering on his tongue. He wondered if it could ever be washed away.

The walls were being rebuilt now, and part of Yuki felt the loss. If that was what it meant to know Kaz Brekker, if that was what it meant to...

Yuki would take it.