#TIMELINE. ┊ kaz had taught her to crack a safe‚ pick a pocket‚ wield a knife. ( PRE SOC. )

[thiefofcrows]

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]

       For the better half of an hour, Kaz had managed to do the tasks that had required his attention — first and foremost, he’d had to smooth Per Haskell’s feathers. There was no doubt in Kaz’s mind that the old man had already heard about the altercation with Raito by the time Kaz had left Yuki to settle in and, of course, he had been right. He always knew all the right things to say, all the promises to make … and, of course, he knew how much Per Haskell lapped up every hint of respect Kaz could reasonably bestow.

       Once that was taken care of, he made his way up the stairs, the extra pain in his leg making itself known with every step. He settled himself at his desk after removing his coat, jacket and gloves, then, flipping open the Crow Club's ledger he focused on writing down the days' numbers he’d stored in his memory. His gaze swept over the page once he'd finished ... but now, his mind wandered to Yuki. He had nothing else to distract him from the way their eyes had met, the way Kaz had felt terrifyingly stripped bare — what did it mean and how had he done it?

       Those were the questions that plagued his mind the entire night, even after he'd lain down, determined to at least get a few hours of sleep. Kaz couldn't escape the flurry of his mind even then, but ... in sleep, it had sought to linger on what would've happened had Yuki reached for him. In the waking world, Kaz would’ve cut even the slightest hint of such thoughts short, barely allowing them to form — but here, his subconscious had control. He'd learned to anticipate that look, that urge to reach out. Would he have wiped the trickle of blood at the corner of Kaz's mouth away? Or perhaps his fingers would've tenderly trailed over the slow forming bruise at his jaw and cheek, leaving tendrils of inevitable pain in their wake?

       He'd felt both the stirrings of longing for it and the familiar twist of revulsion and shame, the latter manifesting into cold fingers digging into his flesh. The sensation of a filthy, bloated hand clamping over his mouth brought Kaz violently awake with a gasp. He'd been shaking, his clothes damp with a cold sweat and, once his breathing had evened out and the shaking eased, he’d decided to shower. He sought to wash the strange, invasive feelings down the drain along with the lingering undercurrent of anxiety.

       Evidence of the fight with Raito was plastered across his face in a few vivid bruises and a split, slightly swollen bottom lip.

       Kaz was seated at his desk again, his gloves back on, by the time he heard the knock at his door. He glanced up, one brow arching upward before averting his gaze again. ❝Come,❞ he said, pushing aside the paperwork he'd been reading through, neatly stacking it on his right. He rose to his feet and limped around the desk before leaning against the front of it. He'd brought his cane along with him, even though, with everything such a short distance away in his own room, he didn't normally need to use it in here. Kaz smoothed leather clad hands over the crows head, the rhythmic back and forth of the gesture bringing him a kind of comforting relief that he didn’t care to quantify.

       Yuki entered and, as their eyes met, it felt like there was some kind of weight, some kind of intensity that hadn’t been there before. Kaz ignored it and nodded towards the chair across from his desk. ❝Sit.❞ Once Yuki was seated, Kaz held his gaze steadily, determined to disregard the way it made him feel.  ❝Raito believes you've joined the Dregs,❞ he began, evidently not interested in beating around the bush. ❝If you do join us officially, he can’t act against you without retaliation … and now he understands exactly what that entails.❞ At that, a small, wicked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, even though it was brief.

       ❝Joining us means you’d have to learn how to better defend yourself. Not to mention, learn how to lie, cheat and steal. Any job you complete, 20% of what you get goes to Per Haskell, — but the rest is yours. You’ll have a roof over your head and decent pay. You take the crow and cup tattoo, it marks you as one of us. It’s either that, or maintain a lie and try to find your way on your own. The choice is yours.❞

Kaz shut the door and Yuki was left alone for the first time that long, long day. He considered locking the door now, but each time he thought about it, a strange anxiety twisted his stomach. Almost like something terrible would happen if he did, like some kind of punishment waited for him. He shook his head. He didn't need to make that decision yet, not until tonight.

The room was small, with a single bed and a two-person table, a bathroom and shower. But Yuki was drawn to the compact kitchen, curiously looking through the few cabinets and the empty fridge. He ran his hand over the single countertop and examined the stove. The idea of being able to cook brought a little smile to his face. Whatever he wanted.

The sun set quickly and soon Yuki had to turn on the light, before he finally approached the door. His fingers hovered over the lock for a moment, and he still felt some reluctance to push it in. But he couldn't deny the relief that flooded through him once he did, tension immediately leaving his shoulders. He'd forgotten what safety felt like.

His body craved the softness of the bed and he finally gave in, laying down with a sigh. The lamp flicked off easily, casting Yuki into darkness. Some of that anxiety creeped up again, expecting to hear a creak of the hardwood outside his door, or a soft knock that didn't wait for permission to enter. But the minutes passed and the silence comforted him, finally lulling him into a deep sleep.

When Yuki finally woke, his room was bathed in golden sunlight, though he wasn't sure whether it was morning or evening. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. While his muscles still ached, his head was clear of the exhaustion that usually plagued him. He couldn't help but look at the door, and only relaxed when he saw the lock had remained untouched.

As Yuki showered, the hot water relieved some of the soreness in his body, and he let his mind wander back to The Crow Club, back to Raito. Back to Kaz. Yuki frowned as he remembered that sharp feeling that had spiked before Yuki had said a word, only to instantly turn to smoke. And...the strange desire to touch him. It almost felt like something else happened, like there had been a conversation hidden in the silence.

A hint of uncertainty met those thoughts as he ran out of reasons to stay in the shower. He had to face Kaz eventually, though Yuki still didn't know what to expect from that conversation. The room was nearly dark again when he stepped out of the bathroom, the sky black by the time he was dressed. Evening, then.

Kaz's room was easy to find, and Yuki got deja vu as he knocked. "Hey, Kaz? Are you in there?"

[thiefofcrows]

@veitsia | CONT. from here.

  When I die … the mere idea of those words made something deep inside of Kaz Brekker twist painfully. At the same time, the vicious and wounded thing he’d become after his last true brush with death thrashed with rage. Both sensations swept over him so abruptly, it was difficult to reign in an outward response. Kaz still clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the pen he was writing with — even his writing stopped, albeit briefly as he caught himself, took the faintest breath through his nose. The force of such frayed, raw rage scared him still, deep within his bones and, the only reason it scared him was because it was for her.

   He didn’t want to think about what life would be like without listening for her, without instinctively seeking with nothing but vague senses for her approach, where she would simply melt back into the world, emerging from the shadows like magic. He didn't want to imagine never seeing her seated at his window again, feeding the crows that would always remember her kindness.

   Kaz had said the words as a joke, light and teasing, despite the fact that maybe he might actually mean it, but … of course she had turned it into something too real. He would surely paint the streets red with the blood of those who’d laid their hands on her without a moments hesitation. How had it come to this?

   A quiet scoff followed and, he too felt the twinge of irritation at himself as he tilted his head in her direction, seeking to steal a glimpse of her. He often found himself gazing into those rich dark eyes and itching to understand the things she didn’t say aloud, longing to solve the puzzles in which she presented him with — the only case where he would solve one only to receive at least three more, each more baffling than the last.

   ❝Escaping obstacles of my own design is what I’m good at, Inej.❞ He’d cheated death more times than he could perceptibly count, but that was how you won a game that was rigged against you from the start, wasn’t it?

   ❝But if you don’t at least haunt me, I’ll be sorely disappointed,❞ Kaz continued, a long, exaggerated sigh carrying the words from his mouth.

[thiefofcrows]

Plotted starter for @cruelprincae

    The first time Kaz had glimpsed one of the creatures was a dead one, as was his luck. It had been the strangest thing and, for a moment, Kaz’s mind had been reeling, trying to make sense of what he'd been seeing. Had he not looked closer, he may not have recognized the bartender Kobus Sieben. He’d merely worked in one of the Pubs and Kaz had a standing arrangement with him to glean useful secrets the man collected from the patrons who couldn’t keep their mouths shut after a few drinks.

   He now possessed an eerie, inhuman kind of beauty, even in death. His skin had clearly been a color Kaz never seen on a person before; his ears were pointed, and attached to his back were a pair of crumpled wings … it hadn’t made any sense, but there was no denying what he was seeing was indeed real. The disguise that had made him look human had been the trick and it had fooled him. It was as if the concept had entrapped Kaz’s mind — he’d needed to unravel the secrets of, not only how the trick had been done in the first place, but what these creatures were, where they’d come from. If they could disguise themselves so thoroughly without the aid of a tailor, what else were they capable of?

   He’d started with looking into the people that had seemingly materialized out of nothing one day, stepping off of a ship, arriving in a carriage from Saints knew where. These people had no contacts outside of that time frame, no one they’d known any longer than that — and, lo and behold, Kaz eventually found what  he was looking for. However, he’d also learned the hard way that he needed to protect himself against their will being forced upon him. Once he’d figured that out, getting information out of them became relatively easy, given how susceptible they were to bribes. They were glad to receive real kruge and, of course, they liked to drink. He’d made a deal with one in order to gain what they called The Sight, which allowed him to see their kind for what they really were, rather than being fooled by their disguises.

   They’d merely become one of his many contacts with which he would get information — and eventually, Kaz heard about the Prince that was seemingly walking among them. A Prince who had evidently escaped the burden of rule over a kingdom he’d never heard of, nor seen on any maps. Someone who could potentially become a King, someone who no doubt had a vast amount of knowledge and leverage that Kaz could use.

   He could see Pekka Rollin’s life, his livelihood, being swiftly demolished with precise, deliberate blows. He could see a path forged to finally rid the Dregs of Per Haskell’s authority, to take his place and never have to take another order from some old man who only ever wanted to drink, build model ships and talk about his glory days, rather than run a gang. After all, it was all thanks to Kaz that they were one of the most powerful gangs in Ketterdam; Per Haskell hadn’t even managed to put a decent roof over their heads, let alone lead them to any worthwhile gains.

   The Prince hadn’t even been difficult to find, in the end — he was one of the patrons that showed up at the Crow Club to drink copious amounts of alcohol and trick people out of their kruge. Not to mention, he was paying for all of that alcohol with glamored money, at least at the start. That in itself was something Kaz would have to put a stop to, regardless of any other intentions he had.

   After successfully arming himself as well as the bouncers against the enchantments the Prince would no doubt use to try to escape the situation, Kaz made his way to his desk, his cane thunk-ing against the wooden floor. He rested it against the inner edge of the desk, next to him and within easy reach if necessary … and, when the door swung open, his two bouncers on either side of Cardan, he leaned down to rest his hands atop his desk, watching as they crossed the room before forcing the Prince into a chair. He was glamoured, of course, but Kaz could see through it now.

  ❝Looks like your days of tricking my customers out of their kruge has come to an end. Normally I would say, given how much alcohol you buy when you’re here, that might make up for a portion of it, but ... I suspect there’s a fifty-fifty chance it isn’t real. Which means you’ve been stealing from me as well,❞ said Kaz, his rock salt rasp adding just the right amount of weight to his words, his dark eyes piercing, calculating. While he had certainly manipulated and cheated his way through a multitude of card games, that simply made it incredibly difficult to do it on his watch. Now, not even those who evidently used a kind of power unknown to most could get away with it.

    ❝So … you’re not leaving this office, not until we make a deal.❞

[thiefofcrows]

       In response to Tommy’s teasing remark, Kaz met his eyes and quirked dark brows. His familiar crooked grin tugged faintly at his lips, but these days it certainly seemed to contain a more dangerous and wicked undercurrent. It was like it had become permanently stained with it in the span of time they’d spent apart. Kaz couldn’t deny the sharp pang in his chest at the sight of Tommy’s smile, even if it had only been a brief flash of it. He swallowed the feeling, however, and elected to listen as Tommy spoke, offering a conceding nod when he mentioned the war on their hands.

       The Peaky Blinders. Of course, Kaz had heard plenty about them — aside from the fact that they’d certainly made a name for themselves, he kept tabs on everything. He’d heard all about their legitimate business dealings, which had caught the attention of Billy Kimber, the once dominant crime boss in Birmingham. He’d heard the Peaky Blinders was lead by one of the younger brothers instead of the oldest. Speaking to Tommy, he felt it made sense to assume that leader was him. He’d heard how they’d taken Kimber out of the equation recently. However, even without all of that knowledge, he could guess that Tommy was likely leaning towards allying with the Jews.

       Kaz lifted his glass and drained the remaining contents of it before setting it down on the table top, giving it a slight push towards the bartender. This time, however, it was because he was done drinking. At the bar, at least. He grabbed his hat and stood, leaning against his cane as his eyes swept over Tommy before lifting to meet his gaze. Those damn eyes of his still managed to make Kaz’s heart race, even after all this time. Just like before, nearly everyone seemed to straighten slightly, their senses sharpening as Dirtyhands rose to his feet.

       Even if everything he’d said about his struggles were true, it was abundantly clear that Kaz had made a long lasting impression — and it suggested he was respected and feared nonetheless. ❝My office is back that way,❞ he gestured with a nod of his head, seeming to side step Tommy’s question for now. ❝Up the iron steps. Much more appropriate place to chat.❞

       Without another word, he moved past Tommy, his cane thunk-ing against the wooden floorboards as he went. He clearly expected his … old friend to follow him eventually. He made his way up the prior mentioned iron steps and through his office door. As he waited, Kaz shrugged out of his coat and jacket, hanging them up on the coat rack. He hung his hat as well, leaving him in a charcoal collared shirt and an equally dark embroidered waistcoat. However, the leather gloves remained, as they always did.

 It was obvious to Tommy that Kaz was holding back, or rather, trying to keep things on the down low. Most likely because his men were around and this conversation simply wasn't for them to witness. He was just about to suggest they take it somewhere else, when the admission that followed gave him pause. 

 The first, admittedly incredibly overwhelming urge was to shout 'then join me!', but Tommy had grown too smart, too calculated in the years that followed their intimate relationship during the war. Kaz might be an... old friend, but now he was an enemy of sorts. Sure, the Dregs were no threat, nor could they even be considered rivals, but that didn't change the fact that they were on two opposing sides. They were both smart, both ambitious, and Tommy had already made the mistake of inviting the enemy in one too many times. 

 Still, that didn't mean he couldn't use their shared past to his advantage at all if there was an advantage to be had from it. 

 Shrugging his shoulders, Tommy pocketed his cigarettes again while taking another drag of the one between his fingers. "I'm here on vacation, and I much prefer little hole in the wall places over those extravagant clubs full of pompous assholes. Is that a crime?" He glanced over at the other with a little grin, but then sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I'm here as a spectator, nothing more. I know there's a war going on down here, and I'm trying to decide which side to take. Both armies are too big for me to take on by meself, so I need to find an alley until I can get the Peaky Blinders established."

 "So that's me reason. What's yours?" 

[thiefofcrows]

     Kaz made the same observation as he entered, letting his eyes scan the man before him as he approached. It was obvious by his attire that he had a great deal of money — and the way he wore it, moved in it, the way he held himself and even the choices he made in how to put it all together ... it was instantly clear to Kaz that Isen had always had money.

       He'd never gone hungry, never had to be careful and deliberate about spending, lest he end up on the street. He had always wanted for nothing. Of course, Kaz already knew that from the information he'd gathered on the man, but even without that ... he could see it written all over him.

       So, when Isen made the concious choice to use Kaz's first name instead of leading with his last, it didn't surprise him in the least. The fact that he'd initiated this meeting in the first place told him that Isen at least understood that Kaz was dangerous, not to be underestimated. Regardless, Isen did not see him as an equal and Kaz wasn't about to bow his head and submit. He saw the slight for what it was and he would rise to meet it in kind.

        ❝Isen,❞ Kaz rasped once he came to a stop opposite him. His right brow arched slightly higher than the left and his lips curved in a smirk that was almost unsettling. As if he knew Isen were just about to step into a trap. He wasn't interested in small talk, but ... despite Isen's apparent inclination to take Kaz seriously enough to try not to underestimate him, he still managed it anyway.

He stood with his cane placed in front of him, leather clad hands resting atop the ghastly crows head.

        ❝Likewise. I hope my punishment for Raito didn't start us off on the wrong foot. He drew first blood and trespassed — I gave him the chance to walk away unscathed, but he didn't heed the warning. I couldn't let that slide, I'm sure you understand.❞ Kaz already knew that Isen likely didn't care and, if he was as intelligent as he suspected, he'd long-since cut Raito loose because of it. Isen knew the rules and, while Kaz believed most of the old rules from Per Haskell's time were useless and naive, there were still some he utilized. Even so, he was always prepared for someone to disregard them all.

@thiefofcrows

Only a fool would believe Per Haskell was anything but a figurehead, an old man teetering on the edge of his grave. Not that Haskell had been worth a second thought even in his prime. No, The Dregs had only become a threat very recently, under the command of someone else.

Kaz Brekker was quickly making a name for himself in this city. A skilled thief and respectable fighter, with an affinity for scrounging up leverage against any unlucky soul who crossed his path, Kaz was not to be underestimated. As long as he could take a breath, Kaz was a threat.

It was a miracle that Raito's idiocy hadn't brought his wrath down on Isen, and his ex-henchman ought to count his blessings that Isen hadn't finished the job.

Raito was far from Isen's biggest issue right now. Another, often defiant henchman had been causing problems ever since he abandoned the Blades. Nakoudo Sakasha. He had directly challenged Isen's position, and Isen had responded in kind. Bloody and bruised, Isen had allowed him to limp out the door. Ever since then, Nakoudo had been annoyingly persistent with his little vendetta.

Perhaps, should Kaz offer some assistance, this problem could benefit them both.

He checked his watch. Kaz wasn't late, but Isen had come to this warehouse a few minutes early. The buildings on this street belonged to neither Dregs nor Blades. Just as Isen would not accept an invitation into a lion's den, he was sure Kaz wouldn't, either. If the message had truly been passed on, it shouldn't be much longer.

The door opened and he heard the sound of a wooden cane tapping with every other step. Isen turned to face Kaz. He was dressed in an expensive suit of solid black, with a heavy overcoat. Isen was dressed the opposite, an off-white suit with no tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. It was an...interesting contrast.

Kaz seemed to be young only in years. There were heavy dark circles beneath his eyes, the lines of his face aging him far beyond seventeen. He was as tall as Isen and thin, his gait uneven. But knowing Kaz's reputation, that didn't seem to be much of a hinderance.

"I appreciate you meeting me here, Kaz," Isen said at last. He did not extend his hand to shake. "It is nice to finally put a face to a name."

[thiefofcrows]

       The answer, nothing, wasn’t what Kaz had been expecting—no, it wasn’t the answer he’d wanted. Not that he necessarily wanted Yuki to have an ulterior motive to their meeting again, but … it would be easier to deal with than this. Kaz knew how to conduct business like the back of his own hands; he knew what things to search for, how to seek them out effectively. He knew how to make deals, arrangements and, to a degree, he did know how to be amicable. He’d played the small talk games when it was necessary, he might’ve even had something like a friend or two. There was still a part of him, deep inside, that knew how to connect, but it had only ever caused him pain, hadn’t it?

       This was something that aimed for what was underneath—and it filled Kaz with a constant current of anxiety that hummed beneath his skin, made him antsy, seeking escape. The emotion he felt for Yuki back then was still there; buried deep, but the moment he’d heard the other’s voice, it had begun to boil to the surface regardless. Up until now, he’d mostly been able to shuck anything from that time that invoked emotion from him from his shoulders. That part of him had died on Reaper’s Barge. And yet.

       Kaz’s eyes slid shut and he let out a slow, steadying breath. From the outside, it would merely look like he was nothing but mildly annoyed; but truthfully, he was swallowing those old thoughts, old feelings down, refusing to let himself indulge in them any longer. They would do nothing but damage his reputation and he’d long-since vowed to never let that happen again.

       So, when he did catch the undercurrent of hurt in Yuki’s voice, the sharp pang he may have felt in his heart was stifled. He stopped walking and turned to meet the other’s gaze full on this time. Another surge of emotion followed as their eyes met, so mixed and jumbled, Kaz could scarcely make any sense of it—not that he wanted to, as he quickly snuffed out that flame.

       Before he could, however, there was a vivid flash that Kaz evidently couldn’t stifle fast enough. It was pain and a deep kind of longing, but it was being strangled by a bone deep kind of terror that only conveyed one thing—escape, escape, escape.

       ❝The boy you might’ve known then is dead,❞ Kaz rasped, his tone laced with a warning. ❝Both of them are,❞ he added, thinking it an effective way to shut down any potential questions of what happened to Jordie?  It was easier to say with venom than without. ❝If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re not going to find it. There’s more worthwhile things to be chasing after.❞

       And with that, he turned his back on his old friend and resumed his pace, this time with no backward glance to speak of.

Not being able to feel anything from Kaz left Yuki feeling wrongfooted. He could see his mind working, he could see that small, barely-there smile. But Yuki's heart sank when he heard those words. What business.

Would he believe that Yuki had no ulterior motive? Or that he'd simply run into his childhood friend by chance? The skepticism in Kaz's voice gave Yuki his answer. And for the first time he truly saw the exterior. He saw the dangerous man, despite the fact that he knew it hadn't always been like this.

"Nothing," Yuki said sincerely, trying not to let any hurt color his words. He had a feeling he wasn't the only one who could catch a lie, and once Kaz did, he was sure this reunion would be done. Not that lying was in Yuki's skillset, anyway. "I just saw you, and...I recognized you."

Kaz didn't need to know how. Yuki frowned to himself and looked away. He wondered how different things would've been, without the plague that seemingly damaged both of them. Kaz beyond recognition.

"I didn't know you were in the city still," he offered, looking back up at Kaz. "I guess that's on me for not paying attention. My mind's been on other things." His frown deepened.

"It's not like we grew apart, Kaz. I thought you were dead."

[thiefofcrows]

       Kaz didn't give a damn about whatever became of Raito, as long as he was out of The Crow Club. He made the seemingly long trek towards his office, favoring his bad leg heavily as every step elicited a sharp pang. Around it, the pain gradually bled out, engulfing his entire left leg in a persistent ache. Kaz's head and jaw hurt like hell, the taste of blood lingering in his mouth like an aftertaste. Regardless, all of the molten rage had burned its way out of him and now, he was just tired — filled with satisfaction as well, of course, but ... Kaz found himself wishing for a dreamless sleep.

       When he entered the office, he focused first on Jesper. Concern furrowed the sharp shooter's brows ... and that concern came out as a quiet declaration that Kaz looked as terrible as he felt. He let out a scoff, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.  ❝The other guy looks much worse,❞ he rasped, a hint of amusement in his tone. Then he cast a brief glance at Yuki then back to Jesper. Kaz nodded toward the door. ❝Go on.❞ Jesper left them alone easily and only then did he notice that the hatch he used to keep an eye on the floor was open. He reached to snap it shut — and when Kaz finally turned his full attention on Yuki, it was almost like feeling a sudden shift in the air around them.

Yuki took a few steps forward, his gaze steady, and Kaz felt as though every thought, every emotion he'd felt since they'd been reunited was on display. He felt vulnerable, stripped bare of any of the armor that had kept him alive all this time. It took every ounce of Kaz's willpower to prevent himself from taking several limping steps backward. He felt an intense surge of fear that crackled deep into his bones that he hastened to stifle.

Tension wound itself through his body after Yuki had said his name like that, as a certain look flashed in his eyes. Yuki wanted to touch him, Kaz realized — but he felt relief and perhaps a slight twinge of disappointment when Yuki seemed to think better of it. The thanks felt wrong, as if he'd done some kind of selfless good deed when indeed, what he'd done had been for various selfish reasons. To unleash his rage upon the person who deserved it, to gain the opportunity to tie Yuki to Kaz in a way that was practical, a deal that could benefit them both.

❝We'll talk after you've gotten some sleep,❞ he said instead, smoothly side-stepping Yuki's gratitude. ❝I've got empty rooms at the Slat — Dregs territory.❞ You'll be safe there. The words had teetered on the edge of his tongue, but it felt like a lie. Even if he didn't say it out loud, he had a feeling Yuki would interpret what he did say that way and ... well, how he interpreted Kaz's words wasn't his problem in this case, was it?

Kaz had lead Yuki to the Slat, given him a choice of small rooms. The building, the rooms, were a bit run down looking and ugly; but it was dry, insulated and sturdy. When he noted the lock on the doors, and that Yuki was free to use it if he wished, the look he'd recieved had been nothing short of astonishment. 'I can ... lock my door?' Yuki had asked incredulously and Kaz felt another burst of rage for Raito. All he'd said in reply was, ❝Do whatever you want. ❞ He instructed Yuki to come and find him when he was ready to talk, indicating that he stayed in the attic room at the top of the stairs.

With that, Kaz left him to get settled, shifting his focus back onto the various tasks at hand.

Shame and rage burned in his cheeks as Raito was dragged to his feet, unable to make his body move the way it needed to. His arms hung at his sides, pins and needles prickling at the tips of his fingers. But the pain in his knee was significant, throbbing all over but concentrated in one spot. Like it was broken.

The bouncer unceremoniously threw him out onto the street, the double doors snapping closed with finality.

Kaz Brekker was a particular kind of bastard.

In the office, Yuki was slumped down in the chair Kaz had left him in, his head laid back and eyes closed. The bruises and the split to his lip were gone, no pain as he took in steady breaths. To the untrained eye, it merely looked as though Yuki were resting his eyes, and perhaps had fallen asleep in the process. But he couldn't have been more alert.

Yuki had gathered his power in a thin tendril and pushed it through the open hatch, down as far as he could, not quite reaching Kaz and Raito--but hovering among the sea of Dregs. Both men had extremely familiar auras, which made them stand out among the crowd.

There was no wall sealing Kaz's emotions now. His emotions weren't held back, though they were still somewhat faint thanks to the distance. Yuki felt a dangerous rage radiating from him, the caution that ravaged the other Dregs telling him that they felt it, too. Rage...

Had what Yuki said made him this angry?

Raito's aura forced its way into his mind, despite how Yuki shied away from it. His rage burned strong, but it was still no match for Kaz. That gave Yuki some satisfaction. The idea of facing Raito right now, even with his wounds gone, filled him with dread. That bone-chilling fear that hadn't released him since this whole thing started, finally eased its grip. Yuki allowed himself to believe that Kaz could do this, that Raito was no longer the scariest person in that room.

And then he was hit with pain, each man's aura intertwined until they were indiscernible from each other. Yuki tensed, but he remained still.

Soon the scale tipped and Yuki could feel a strong and constant agony threaded deep in Raito's slimy aura. But Yuki felt no relief, because a lesser pain still prodded at his mind.

Suddenly the desire to see Kaz for himself made it hard to remain seated. But it seemed Yuki would soon get his wish, as he heard footsteps up to the office. That gentle tendril retracted as Yuki opened his eyes at last, glancing over his shoulder, and he stood when the door finally opened.

Kaz limped into the room, favoring his leg in a way Yuki had never seen before. There were a few bruises on his face, which sparked Yuki's anger, and blood on his mouth that fanned the flames.

For a moment, he wondered if Raito was still outside.

Yuki was silent until Jesper was told to leave, until he heard the door click shut. He took a few steps forward. Yuki was good with words, but each time he thought of something to say, it never made it past his lips.

"Kaz..." Of course he knew that touching his friend was off-limits. And Yuki had never had an issue with respecting that. But to his shock, the urge to touch Kaz's unbruised cheek rose up in him, which he immediately disregarded.

Though he still felt the rage simmering in him, it seemed...inappropriate right now. So Yuki took in a breath, finally settling on the only words he could say.

"Thank you."

[thiefofcrows]

       Kaz had been expecting Raito's first shot to be at his leg, as people did in almost every fight — he just couldn't always pin point exactly which part they would choose to focus on. The knee, would they guess correctly and shoot for the shin, or perhaps the foot? He could watch closely and sometimes catch a hint just a few precious seconds before impact. Evidently, Raito had decided to aim for Kaz's knee and he braced himself, unable to avoid staggering to the side as Raito's fist connected, the worst of the pain surging bellow the knee.       

       Raito was grabbing hold of Kaz's shirt collar, jerking him forward before he could recover — and that fist connected with his jaw. Pain exploded through his head and Kaz grunted, shaking off the stars crackling along the edges of the pain, certain that he was already tasting the tang of blood in his mouth. Before another punch could find its mark, Kaz tilted his head back and slammed it into Raito's face, gritting his teeth against the burst of pain that rocketed through his skull. He both felt and heard a satisfying crunch and the other flinched backward, his hands disappearing — no doubt to try and staunch the blood that had quickly begun to pour from his broken nose.       

       Kaz took the opportunity to regain a proper grip on his cane and, with one ruthless swing at just the right angle and force, he fractured Raito's right knee. This time, when Raito crumpled to the floor, Kaz limped around him, readjusted his hold on his cane and gave two lightening fast jabs at the back of the other man's shoulders. He watched with some satisfaction as Raito's arms went limp, ensuring he couldn't use them to cause anymore trouble for the moment. Kaz briefly tilted his head and spat onto the floor, ridding his mouth of the sickening coppery taste that had begun to flood it.      

       ❝Not keen on using your words? That's fine, I don't mind doing the talking,❞ Kaz rasped, reaching up to wipe at the blood trickling from a split lip with one leather clad hand while he shifted to lean on his cane with the other. His bad leg throbbed from the first hit, which may have been why he'd aimed for Raito's knee in turn. Kaz suspected he'd potentially develop a bad limp himself and he felt giddy satisfaction bubbling in his chest. What a shame.  

       ❝I know all about your dirty secrets, Raito,❞ he began, speaking loud enough for the people crowding around to hear.  ❝Ironically, the worst of them involving underage boys doesn't bring you even the slightest hint of shame, but I suppose that's just ... a testament to your character.❞ He stepped closer then and his voice dropped into a dangerous low murmur.  ❝I do know what secret terrifies you, though. A secret involving your boss' dead wife, right? ❞

       Kaz let the silence swell for a long moment, practically tasting Raito's fear and he was glad for it. The crooked grin that spread over his features seemed to shake loose something dark and unhinged that radiated off of him. ❝I know if he found out, he wouldn't just kill you. He'd torture you for days, maybe even weeks before finally putting you out of your misery.❞ Raito's stillness spoke volumes and Kaz was drinking it all in, savoring it.

               ❝You come near any of the Dregs again, I won't hesitate to sign your death warrant. Now, pick your sorry ass up off the floor and get the fuck out of my gambling hall.❞ Kaz cast his gaze towards the bouncer at the door. All that was needed was eye contact and a faint incline of his head — the bouncer would make sure Raito got out of here. Whether or not he'd be thrown out would be up to him. And with that, Dirtyhands left the crumpled, bleeding heap of a man to do just that, not sparing him another glance.

Suddenly Raito was hurdling toward the hardwood floor. He twisted just in time to take the brunt on his shoulder, and though he managed not to groan, he couldn't help but wince as pain exploded from the impact. But the pain was more bearable than the blow to his pride, now that he'd once again been so effortlessly knocked to the ground by a teenage boy.

Okay. Maybe the guy wasn't all talk.

Before he could even think to try and get up, Kaz used his foot to shove Raito onto his back, inadvertently revealing his Crimson Blades tattoo. The silver crow's head proved itself to be more than just decoration as it threatened to cut his throat, but Kaz's words stopped him cold.

Yuki is Dregs.

How was it possible that Yuki had joined a gang right under Raito's nose? The Dregs, even? Now that the leader himself confirmed it. Raito had no choice but to believe him. But he felt those flames of rage toward Yuki reignite. When he got his hands on that little brat...

Ultimately Isen would pose a bigger threat than Kaz once he found out. And delivering Yuki to his boss with a Dregs tattoo on his arm would do nothing but piss Isen off. Raito had a feeling he knew who would serve as the outlet for that rage. No, he needed to distance himself from Yuki-- once he taught him a lesson, that was. Find some other way to save himself.

Surely taking care of the Dregs leader would grant him some mercy.

The way Kaz had limped closer to him hadn't gone unnoticed. It seemed the cane was actually being used for its intended purpose. Raito noticed that the foot on his shoulder seemed steady, able to apply weight. Which meant...

He moved quickly, knowing Kaz had to be aware of this weak spot. Raito swung a fist at the side of the other man's (supposedly) bad knee, shoving the cane out of the way while he was distracted. The crow's head gone, Raito got to his feet.

Yanking him forward by the collar of his shirt, Raito threw a punch at Kaz's face, each movement quick. If he didn't give Kaz time to take advantage of more openings, he might actually pull this off.

[thiefofcrows]

       While Inej had provided all of the information she'd gathered on Raito, along with his appearance, this was the first time Kaz had seen him with his own eyes. He was a Japanese man in his late 30s, tall, thick dark hair, brown eyes, just as she'd described. However, something about the look in his eyes, his body language, immediately grated against his nerves. What he knew about him was likely an influence, but ...

       It was obvious he was nothing but irritated to find Kaz standing at the entrance, seemingly awaiting his arrival. Again, that surge of giddy violence gripped him and he found himself silently urging Raito to throw a punch. However, all he seemed interested in doing was getting past Kaz — which was reason enough to indulge the itch.

       You have something of mine. Raito spoke as if Yuki were nothing but an object to be collected and done with as one pleased. As if he weren't a person at all. Kaz felt the flint inside him scraping against the hollow places, sparks flying and igniting into a vicious rage.

       He removed his left hand from the head of his cane before tossing it up slightly, catching the length of it with his right hand, then his left too. Kaz swung for Raito's legs and swept them out from under him before he could make contact. Raito dropped to the hardwood floor, face first, with a satisfying thud and Kaz took a few limping steps forward. He rested the foot of his good leg against the others closest shoulder, effectively rolling him onto his back. Kaz shoved the ghastly looking crows head beneath Raito's chin.

       The sharp beak scraped menacingly against the tender skin of his throat. If he tried to move upward, it would no doubt cut into his flesh.

       Kaz's eyes seemed to gleam a depthless black beneath the dim lights of the gambling hall, devoid of fear .... devoid of mercy. ❝You're the guest of honor,❞ he rasped, obvious sarcasm, but lacking in any sort of good humor. ❝Yuki is Dregs — and, judging by that Crimson Blades tattoo,❞ his dark eyes flickered down and he inclined his head towards Raito's visible wrist, which clearly revealed a devil face with the blade of a katana lodged through it. ❝You should know that acting against any of us risks retaliation. All you've done is serve yourself to me on a silver platter. ❞ Kaz gave a nonchalant shrug at that, followed by the barest curve of his lips. ❝Saves me some time, at least.❞

The bruises on his knuckles throbbed with a dull ache, though it was the sting of the scratches on his right cheek, from which blood rolled down to stain his shirt collar, that kept these embers of rage burning. Raito used it to drive his feet forward, attracting stares as he turned the sidewalk into a warpath.

For too long, Raito had indulged this boy, had saved his miserable life and gave him everything, only for Yuki to throw such disgusting accusations in his face. Yuki didn't know the meaning of his words.

But Raito had no problem teaching him.

It wasn't hard to track Yuki down. But when Raito saw where he'd run to hide, his anger flared. He wondered if Yuki was even worth the consequences of stepping on another gang's territory. He wondered if he would be scorched by the flames of Isen's terrible wrath.

If he brought Yuki to Isen's feet, bruised but alive, maybe Raito would be spared. Struck with a new purpose, he approached The Crow Club. Aware of, but not worried about, the tattoo visible on his forearm.

For a gambling house, it certainly was quiet, he thought as he approached the doors. But the strange silence wasn't enough to deter him. Raito shoved the doors open, only to be greeted by a sea of scowling faces, none of them as hard and cold as the man dressed all in black, standing in front of Raito, a black and silver cane beneath his gloved hands.

He was face-to-face with Kaz Brekker, surrounded by his Dregs.

Kaz effectively blocked him from going any further, which only added to his irritation. When he looked this unofficial gang leader over, absently aware of the reputation he'd somehow obtained, Raito didn't feel fear or even the slightest bit of unease. Since he'd first heard the name, he'd assumed the rumors that surrounded it were just that. Rumors. And despite the way Kaz presented himself now, like some kind of villain, the guy was probably all talk.

"You look like you're waiting for someone. Sorry to disappoint." Raito began to walk past Kaz, attempting to shove him aside. "You have something of mine."

[thiefofcrows]

      For the moment, there was nothing left for Kaz to do but listen. Dark eyes swept downwards, thin lips pressing into a hard line as he fought to subdue and control the jumbled waves of emotion as they washed over him. Evidently, they’d both gone through their own respective horrors thanks to the Firepox plague — while for Kaz it had been swift and unforgiving, Yuki’s had been methodical and slow, so gradual and manipulative that he hadn’t been able to see it for what it was. Not until now, anyway. The longer he spoke, the more … vivid the violence in his head became. His rage was a controlled wildfire and, as Yuki finished, the pain laced throughout the flames was almost unbearable. He didn’t want to feel that kind of pain, he wanted to fight.

      ❝I know who he is. Who they both are,❞ Kaz conceded finally, still maintaining his calm and collected front — but the familiar, faint sound of the window opening, a soft click, gave him pause. He cast his gaze through the doorway into the adjoining bedroom only to be met with a hooded Inej, her dark eyes fierce and urgent. She tugged down the scarf she used to partially obscure her face to speak.

      ❛Raito is nearly here.❜ Inej’s eyes flickered to briefly settle on Yuki as well and, if she were surprised to see him so badly wounded, she didn’t show it. Kaz, on the other hand, felt a surge of giddy violence — he wanted to hit someone and apparently Raito seemed keen on handing himself over to Kaz on a silver platter. A plan was already beginning to form in his mind, his gaze drifting past Inej — he didn’t remain that way for more than a few long seconds before he was straightening up and making his way back over to the coat rack. His whole demeanor shifted, authority, danger and confidence engulfing Kaz like a second skin.

       ❝Get Nina over here, she can tend to Yuki’s injuries,❞ he began, speaking to Inej as he shrugged into his regular suit jacket. ❝Jesper can keep an eye on him in the meantime. Wait ‘till he gets here, then go.❞ Inej didn’t seem particularly thrilled with the way Kaz instructed her, but right now he didn’t much care. He heard Yuki attempt to protest but all Kaz did was cast him a look and that seemed to be enough for him to fall silent. They didn’t have the time to argue and Kaz certainly didn’t have the patience for it, either. ❝Stay here. ❞ he said pointedly to Yuki.

       Dressed in head to toe tailored black, Kaz left the room without another word to them. The dregs that were here, along with those who simply worked for him, all suddenly straightened as they caught sight of him, now on high alert as Dirtyhands made his way towards the entrance. Briefly, he stopped to tell Jesper to keep an eye on the guest in his office and promptly ignored any further questions.

       Begrudgingly, Jesper made his way up the iron steps and through the door, closing and locking it behind him. He leaned against the wall next to the door, offering Inej a nod. She returned it, cast one last glance at Yuki before making her exit back out of the window with silent ease. At some point, Jesper had slid open the visor in the door, giving himself eyes and ears to what was happening on the floor bellow. He only noticed Nina had arrived through a back entrance when she’d spoken to them both.

       Kaz stood near the front entrance to the club all the while, both hands resting atop his silver crows head cane, waiting with unbridled anticipation.

For a moment, Yuki wondered if this had been the right move. If Kaz would even offer some kind of protection or safety, especially now that Yuki had brought trouble to his doorstep. But soon after his weakened call, a pair of dark, intense eyes greeted him. And when Kaz snapped the order, Yuki took a step back, forcing himself to stay upright on his own.

Was it just him, or did Kaz sound more on-edge than usual?

The door swung open. Yuki watched his friend's face, not expecting the shame he felt to spike so suddenly, now that he was under Kaz's scrutiny. Maybe Kaz thought Yuki was weak, and maybe he was right. He searched for any disgust or annoyance on Kaz's face, but to his surprise, there was nothing. His expression was carefully unreadable.

Within these non-expressions, these echoes of strong emotion that quickly evaporated into thin air, Yuki could start to understand the man his childhood friend had become. Kaz's practiced composure told him that the very sight of Yuki triggered something behind the mask. Something worth hiding. Once again, Yuki frowned at Kaz's back.

No, that couldn't be it.

He painfully stepped inside the office, closing the door, and managed to keep from groaning once he sat down. Yuki didn't flinch under Kaz's stare. Sharp as it may be, he wasn't looking at Yuki like an enemy. There was no pity, either, not in his eyes and not in his voice. And for that, Yuki was grateful.

Yuki cleared his throat, finally breaking his gaze to look somewhere over Kaz's left shoulder. He didn't see the wall or anything on it. No, what he saw was much older, a memory he couldn't get rid of no matter how hard he tried.

"The day I was supposed to meet you and Jordie, I woke up with firepox." His frown turned deeper as he felt an uncomfortable and familiar ache. "My foster family threw me out of the house. I thought I was going to die."

Slowly, he shook his head. "I met a man. Raito." The name tasted like acid on Yuki's tongue. "He brought me back to his house, nursed me back to health. I had nowhere to go, I...owed him, for saving my life." Disgust turned his stomach sour, but still Yuki continued.

"Eventually, he decided I was old enough, and he--" He couldn't say it. He couldn't say that word, not to Kaz. Yuki felt bile rise in his throat and his eyes slid closed as he took a moment to collect himself.

"...He was working for the man who killed my family, Isen Reiou." This was safer. Yuki's voice started to even out once more, and he gripped onto his anger like he'd drown without it. "He was there, that night. He helped. And when I confronted him, he didn't deny it."

He hesitated, his bruises throbbing. "He grabbed me, and I...I realized what he's been doing to me, all this time." The breath he took in was shaky, feeling his throat start to constrict.

"A couple days later, I went back to the house. We got in another fight. I've never seen him so angry." The words started to tumble from his lips. "He started hitting me. He threw me on the ground and got on top of me, and--" Yuki's heart thumped painfully, and he finally took the plunge.

"And I knew if I didn't escape, he was going to rape me."

[thiefofcrows]

      Kaz had been irritated, at first. He couldn't fathom how, with how their previous conversation had ended, it somehow had inspired Yuki to continuously seek him out anyway. Yuki had always been exceptional at picking up on the barest subtleties when it came to people and, for those few weeks as children, nine year old Kaz had simply assumed he was just naturally good at that sort of thing. Just like Kaz happened to be excellent at solving puzzles.   

      However, now coming from a place of knowledge and experience, it made him wonder if there was more to it. Had he not known there were leaks in ones mind that most people wouldn't have access to, but someone like Yuki did, somehow? He'd heard of people who had certain abilities that surpassed what was considered normal and he found himself paying close attention to sensations that were faint, easy to dismiss. He noticed it was something that Kaz did not feel when interacting with anyone else. He noticed that every time he felt it in Yuki's presence, it made some kind of impact, even if slight and Kaz believed he was slowly beginning to put the pieces together. Seeking to solve the puzzle, one he continuously felt like he was missing pieces of.

      Then, Yuki stopped showing up.   

      Kaz's first instinct had been to wonder if it was because Yuki had begun to pick up on his suspicions. Regardless, he'd sent Inej to investigate. What she'd returned to tell him was that she'd seen what seemed to be some kind of lovers quarrel. He'd of course elected to have Inej both keep an eye on Yuki and to learn whatever she could about this other person. When she returned once again, what she'd had to tell him filled him to the brim with a surge of anxious paranoia that twisted painfully in his gut.   

      Raito was the man's name and evidently, he worked for Isen, the leader of the Crimson Blades, which was an older gang that held considerable power. They were as prominent, if not moreso, as Pekka Rollins and his Dime Lions. Naturally, Kaz had begun to suspect whether Yuki had active ties with Isen and his gang, whether he'd been tasked to get under Kaz's skin to exploit his weaknesses—but Yuki hadn't taken the Crimson Blades' tattoo like Raito. A part of him knew that wasn't definitive proof, as Inej hadn't taken the Dregs' tattoo either, but ... her circumstances were unusual.

Inej knew by now to seek leverage wherever she could find it and find it she did. Given that what he'd learned about Raito would churn the stomach of any man, Kaz found himself feeling glad that he and Yuki seemed to have had a falling out. It was none of his business and he knew he shouldn't care, but ... much to Kaz's irritation, he did. Not to mention, Raito clearly wasn't someone who took no as an answer.

      Dark eyes snapped up at the sound of the knock at his office door—and when he heard Yuki's familiar voice dripping with obvious pain, it sent a peculiar surge of panic through him. In its raw essence, he couldn't help that some of it was concern and fear for Yuki's well-being, but inevitably, his mind raced with what—or who—would be following behind in his wake.   

      Kaz rose from his chair, snatched his cane—as a precaution, in case he'd need a weapon—and limped his way towards the door. He slid open the small hatch to peer outside his door and saw that currently it was only Yuki. However, he looked like he could collapse at any moment. Kaz closed the visor. ❝Back up,❞ he rasped, as Yuki looked like he could potentially fall through the doorway if he said nothing. What he saw when he opened the door instantly filled Kaz with a surge of rage and ignited his paranoia anew, both of which he took a steadying breath to contain and control. He first assessed Yuki's beaten appearance, then briefly cast his gaze out over the crowd behind him.   

      Seeing nothing concerning yet, Kaz left the door open and turned to limp towards his desk, gesturing at the chair in front of it. ❝Close the door behind you, sit.❞ Yuki had made it all the way here, thus he assumed he could manage a few more steps. Once he was seated, Kaz leaned against the front of his desk, his cane placed between his legs as both gloved hands gripped the silver, grotesque crows head. He leveled Yuki with dark eyes, sharp and calculating, part of his mind racing off to haphazardly prepare for whatever danger was coming. Looking at Yuki, he was reminded of the times in that makeshift coffee shop all those years ago, when Yuki would appear with mysterious injuries or bruises that he'd avoid explaining, let alone acknowledging.   

      ❝You keep coming here for weeks then mysteriously vanish for three days ... only to reappear looking like you lost a brawl,❞ said Kaz with a measured calm, restraining his boiling rage—not at Yuki, of course, but at whoever was responsible for his current state. Naturally, he assumed it was Raito. The image of slitting the man's throat and watching him choke on his own blood came to Kaz's mind unbidden. ❝Tell me what happened, Yuki.❞ His tone conveyed authority, clearly indicating that he would not accept evasive answers or attempted lies. Not This time.

@thiefofcrows

It seemed that, since the plague ended, Yuki wasn't the only one who had turned to a life of crime. Kaz had made himself a prominent leader of a local gang, The Dregs, and spent much of his time at The Crow Club. Though that had been about as much information as Yuki could find out.

It was enough. The first few times he entered The Crow Club, Kaz had been nothing but irritated. Others had been incredulous at Yuki's gall, to enter the gambling house and immediately approach their gang's leader. Though the others eventually lost interest in Yuki, Kaz's irritation remained strong. But Yuki was nothing if not persistent.

Slowly, Yuki's constant presence created a new normal. And he felt that irritation ebb away, until it became something...not familiar, but neutral. Kaz's words now lacked the venom that could sometimes sting.

Even so, Yuki didn't think his three-day absence would be noticed. Not that he'd intended for it to happen at all.

On the first day, he'd stormed out of their apartment, making it to the street corner before Raito grabbed his shoulder and turned him back. Betrayal lanced through his body, a white-hot blade that brought tears to Yuki's eyes.

Tell me you didn't do this.

Raito's hands settled on his waist.

Come back inside, Yuki.

Yuki's stomach clenched so hard that he almost threw up, right then and there. Why? Raito had touched him, soothed him plenty of times. Only his touch now made Yuki's skin crawl, his words sounded like a lie. But most of all...

Most of all, Yuki couldn't deny the malicious intent he could feel radiating off Raito. The man who had saved him from death, nursed him back to health, who protected and loved him...wanted to hurt him.

Don't you realize? He's done it all along.

Yuki ran.

He had enough money for a cheap hotel, only for a day or two. And there he stayed. Barely sleeping, though he was exhausted. Barely eating, though he still threw up. But at this rate, it wouldn't end. No. He needed to hear Raito say it, and then...and then he'd do what he had to do.

On the third day, Yuki returned 'home.' And shortly after, with blackening bruises on his face, his arm, his stomach; with a split lip that flooded his mouth with the taste of pennies; with the sharp pain in his side each time he took in a breath, Yuki managed to escape.

He hid until the sun began to set, until his pounding heart slowed down. But the tears kept coming. The pain pulsed through his body. He wasn't safe here. Was he safe anywhere?

His mind was drawn back to one place, back to one person. Not even the shame he felt could bring color back to Yuki's face. But, if it was between admitting his weakness or taking his chances alone, there was an obvious answer.

Still, it didn't make the stares any less suffocating when he finally entered The Crow Club.

"Is he here?" he asked someone.

The man nodded. "In his office."

It was getting harder and harder to stay upright. So when he knocked on the office door, Yuki held onto its frame.

"Kaz?"

[thiefofcrows]

       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]

       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]

       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]

       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.