#TH 02. ┊ raw truths. ( SOULFULEMPATHY. )

[huyaoxiaozi]

       ❝Well, I need to understand the ... former relationship between you and Isen. I'm not asking you for details — an overview is all. ❞ The longer they sat together, the more Zane's dangerous demeanor began to wane. It never completely vanished of course, but it made way for something softer, inviting. The promise of warmth and safety from the raging storm, a place to share your troubles with assurance that they would remain there.

       ❝I have a feeling ... he's put you through hell, hasn't he? ❞ While it was phrased like a question, it didn't sound like one ... because Zane already knew the answer, even though he was lacking confirmation.

       From what he had been able to gather, Isen had a thing for experimenting on Tiān​cái — those who were blessed with special abilities of some kind. Given that Yuki explicitly referred to himself as a weapon, along with the clear indicators of dissociation, well.... it wasn't difficult to surmise that Yuki had been experimented on, too. It wouldn't surprise Zane in the slightest if he'd gotten the worst of it, in fact. After all, with the pressure of being Isen's makeshift heir, he could imagine the margin for error was nearly nonexistent.

       Again, that painful twinge returned and again, that boy from his youth returned to the forefront of his mind. Matt. Likening Yuki to him would bring Zane nothing but trouble, especially given Yuki hadn't yet proved that he could indeed be trusted to help them take Isen down. As if Matt had been trustworthy, he insisted — but Zane knew the thought was half-hearted. He still couldn't believe that. Regardless, it was a weakness that could be exploited, if he wasn't careful. He once again shoved the thought of Matt to the back of his mind — and stay there.

       Their food came soon enough and, as Zane retrieved his chopsticks to pluck a steaming dumpling from the basket, he gestured for Yuki to go ahead. He hoped the man would at least eat a few before he started talking, but ... it wouldn't surprise him if he decided not to, either.

It was strange. Yuki hadn't expected it to go this direction -- to be offered a taste of freedom on a tight leash, to see that shift in his captor's eyes. Merciful, bordering on compassionate, and yet still wary of Yuki and poised for action. All of it genuine. Strangest of all...Yuki believed his word. Still, as dangerous as it felt to be going out for dumplings in the face of impending doom, his stomach clenched with a pang of hunger. So Yuki nodded.

"You have mine." His voice held some caution of his own. It was in Yuki's nature to be suspicious of everyone. Everyone but him. Another wave of nausea rolled through him at the thought, and once again glass was embedded in his skin, screams in his ears, the imprint of headlights scorched into his line of sight. Yuki shut his eyes hard before opening them again, knowing he couldn't escape the man's watchful eye. This feeling, the feeling of being exposed, of breaking down with an audience? It was unbearable.

True to his word, Yuki didn't attack when he was untied. There were marks in his skin from the tightness of the ropes, which he resisted the urge to rub at. With the beam's help he could stand, only then realizing how truly weak his body had become. Still, his feet were steady and his legs held his weight. In this case, his weakness may come to his advantage. It was never a bad thing to be underestimated.

The smell of food poured out onto the street outside the restaurant, a test of Yuki's self control. This wasn't the first time he'd been starved like this, he thought as they were seated at a secluded table. He could wait. That danger and caution from his captor still simmered below the surface, leaving Yuki on edge in response, and suddenly his stomach clenched again -- only this time, he didn't feel hungry at all.

"What do you need to know?" Might as well cut to the chase.

[huyaoxiaozi]

       Zane was no stranger to patience. He knew of many others who would've long since gotten impatient with Yuki's lack of response. They might've seen the blank look, the way his eyes had glazed over and assumed the worst — that Yuki was tuning them out, that he was determined not to give them answers. And that was exactly why Li Ming had entrusted Zane with this task, rather than anyone else. People were complicated, but he was good at figuring out why. He recognized that devoid look, lived his own life in it for a time. It was a wound so deeply embedded that it took hold of the mind and body, sank its claws in and dragged you under.

       So ... he waited, keen eyes trained on Yuki's features. Just as he'd suspected, his captive returned soon enough, his eyes clearing once more. However, that inner wound clearly still twinged. Zane thought he'd caught a glimpse of a glistening in Yuki's eyes and, accompanied with the way he averted his eyes, Zane suspected he'd been right. The answer he received surprised him, even though he kept his expression carefully composed. Even with this honed skill, sometimes it took time to get underneath a person's skin, but ... evidently, Zane had pinpointed the right spots easily this time.

       Their eyes met and he knew that Yuki had made his decision — he was still wary, still afraid, but he saw his options clearly. Zane's expression softened, if only slightly, and his mind was racing with the desire to put the pieces together, seeking the shape of the puzzle that was Yuki and whatever his relationship was with Isen. Clearly, it was tainted with pain and fear and, while that certainly was one way to ensure loyalty in a person ... in the long run, it wasn't very effective. ❝As long as you don't give us a reason to turn on you, we won't. You have my word.❞ While his rough voice hadn't lost its allure, something softer, more genuine, seemed to bleed into it.

       You have his favorite weapon in chains. The sentence lingered in Zane's mind and he felt a painful twinge in his chest as he thought of the boy he'd loved years ago. A boy who'd been carefully crafted to be a weapon in every way possible and yet, despite all of it, he'd still only been a person underneath it all. A person with wants, needs, feelings. He lowered his gaze, casting the thought to the back of his mind for the time being.

       ❝I need your word, in turn, that you're not going to try to shank me the moment I untie you. Because personally ... I think it's easier to focus on making a deal when you aren't starving. There's a place a few blocks down,❞ Zane gestured vaguely beyond with a pointed nod of his head, his eyes seeking Yuki's once more. ❝Their dumplings are to die for. We can eat, discuss terms ... my treat, of course. Fair enough? ❞ His demeanor had shifted again — that vicious, intimidating air was still there, evident in every move he made, but ... now, it was somehow inviting. As if the fox had decided that its prey was worth protecting, those sharp teeth and claws a shield rather than a sword.

Loathe as he was to admit it, fear sent his heart pounding against his chest. Something about the man gave off a cool, intimidating air, different from Isen. This was less controlled. This was wild, this was jagged, gnashing teeth, countless names etched into the lines of the stranger's hands. And as he circled Yuki, he felt very much like prey.

Yuki refused to move. He didn't follow the man with his gaze, rather, he tracked his position with the aura radiating off him. He waited for that malicious intent that guaranteed those teeth at his throat. And as he spoke of Isen, of betrayal, Yuki closed his eyes. This was a game. He knew all about games -- and yet his mind was clouded, his skin crawling with anxiety, with tension, like an exposed nerve onto which the clan member threatened to deliver that agony...unless Yuki started talking.

Even if you do think of him as some kind of father figure. Yuki's lip curled.

By the time the man picked up that chair, his eyes opened and returned to him. He was right. Yuki sat here because of Isen, and where was he now? Yuki's face paled. No...he knew better. Isen would come, and once he recovered Yuki, once he killed every member of this clan --

The maddening, slow drip of water from old pipes onto the concrete, sitting heavy and damp in the dark room, makes Yuki want to claw the walls until his fingers bleed. He can't take another second in here.

Suddenly the door screeches open and Yuki backs up against the wall. But he's far from saved.

"Please," he'll say, with a raw throat and rock salt voice. "I'll do what you ask. You don't have to do this."

"Oh, Yuki," says a voice. A calloused hand will stroke his tear-stained cheek.

"I know you will."

Yuki came back to himself, his eyes having gone flat, devoid of life. Panic chilled his bones. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't --

Then make yourself useful. Because he's coming.

"You're right," Yuki admitted. Despite everything, why did he feel like the traitor? He clenched his teeth as tears stung his eyes, and he looked to the side to hide it.

"He'll come for me," he continued, dread and fear clear in his voice. "He wouldn't come after any other man. If you've done any research on him, on me, I'm sure you know why." Now Yuki peered at the man, studying him warily. Like an animal caught in a trap.

"You have his favorite weapon in chains. If you want your clan to survive his attack, then..." He faltered for a moment, squeezing his bound hands into fists. "Give me your word you won't turn on me, and I'll help you get out of this mess."

[huyaoxiaozi]

       As Zane entered the room and met their captive's gaze, he was intrigued by the look that passed over the man's face. Skepticism, unease ... perhaps even fear, but maybe that was being too liberal with the term. If Yuki was truly, deeply afraid, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it. However, something was off, he could sense it — he didn't know what, but it was palpable, heavy in the air. Zane intended to find out exactly what it was.

       He was here to question him, to see what he could find out about Isen's plans, to see if Yuki was indeed useful leverage against him or not. Personally, Zane thought that Yuki could be useful in another, more long term way, if he could be persuaded to turn his back on Isen. They were rumored to be close, like father and son, but ... sometimes, loyalty only went so far when you were the one suffering for someone else's choices.

       As the door closed behind him, Zane cleared his throat audibly. He allowed his carefully crafted mask to slide into place with practiced ease.

       ❝Sorry,❞ Zane went on to say as he approached, not sounding the least bit sorry at all. ❝It's bad luck to be hospitable to those who betray you.❞ He paused, gaze briefly drifting off to his lower right, left eye squinting as he pretended to ponder his own words. ❝Arguably, I guess that could just be considered common sense.❞ he offered a dismissive half shrug, his demeanor casual, as if they were lightly bantering in a bar over drinks, perhaps.

       As Zane got closer, however, his body language subtly shifted as he circled Yuki, slow and deliberate. An odd mix of intrigue and danger ... and perhaps the facade of extending comradery, if Yuki played his cards right. A fox offering a flash of razor sharp teeth, circling potential cornered prey. ❝I suppose it wasn't you specifically who betrayed us. Isen did, but ... given your close ties to him, that makes you privy to his schemes. Just as much fair game as he is. Unless, of course, you care to disagree? ❞

       Despite the serrated burn of it, there was a honeyed allure to his voice as he spoke. He cast a curious glance over his shoulder to Yuki as he strode past his captive's right side, dark brows lifting with questioning emphasis. ❝From where I'm standing, it seems like he's the one who made a fucking mess and left you to deal with the consequences. Not an ideal arrangement, even if you do think of him as some kind of father figure — so ...❞

       Zane reached one of the chairs in the room by then and he smoothly picked it up one handed. After returning to stand in front of Yuki, he set the chair down backwards and settled down onto it, crossing his arms and resting them on the back of it, leaning forward expectantly. ❝I for one think that gives us something to discuss, don't you? ❞

@huyaoxiaozi

"Yuki?"

At the sound of his name, Yuki turned. An older man stood a block away, a man that seemed...vaguely familiar. His name was on the tip of Yuki's tongue, but he mentally flinched away from the sharp spike of pain in his temple. Like barbed wire on a fence, protecting whatever was inside...or protecting whatever was out.

"My god...you're alive," the man continued, taking a few steps closer. However, when Yuki drew back like a stray animal to an outstretched hand, the man stopped. He looked Yuki over with sad eyes that made Yuki grind his teeth.

"Who are you?" Yuki demanded.

"What happened to you?" the man countered, shaking his head slowly. "You look just like your father."

This stopped Yuki short. Like his father? Isen? No...someone else, someone whose face was blurry, distorted. Yuki's hands clenched at his sides.

"I don't know you," he said coldly.

"What did he do to you, son?"

Yuki's heart thumped loudly against his chest and he took another step back. The longer he looked at the man, the more something prodded at his mind, something that plagued his dreams often. Headlights, tires screeching, screams. Yuki shut his eyes hard.

"Come with me," the man begged. "There's something you should see."

Curse his curiosity, but Yuki had to know. And what he found changed everything.

He'd stumbled out of the police station, gasping for air, and when the detective put his hand on his shoulder, he broke out into a run. He ran until he couldn't anymore, finally stopping in an alley with his hand on the brick. And when he pressed his forehead to it, he realized he wasn't alone.

Maybe if he'd been on his game, he would've escaped. He would've killed them all. Still, though Yuki did damage to the men, he was knocked unconscious. And the next thing he knew, his arms were bound to a pole pressing against his back, his ankles tied together with rope. Not a soul was in the room.

He wasn't sure how much time passed. His mouth and throat ached with thirst. Pangs of hunger stabbed into his stomach for awhile, until they turned into clenching pain, nausea. It didn't matter. Most of the time, Yuki wasn't in his body. He was floating on the ceiling, watching a car crash over and over, seeing dark eyes he knew so well, being ushered to a black car. He remembered a warehouse much like this one, damp and dark, where his father -- where Isen had pushed him to his limits until he was a sobbing heap on the ground. Until his memories disappeared, until he became the perfect, obedient weapon. Until he was broken.

The door creaked open and a taller Chinese man entered. Yuki gave him a skeptical look and resisted the urge to back away as much as he could. For the first time, Yuki spoke, his voice rough as sandpaper.

"Your hospitality is terrible."