'I, Chiro' inspired one-shot…because the poor boy is only fourteen and thus must have a pretty big guilt complexion after that episode. Besides I like playing with the Antauri/Chiro bond.

And…yeah, I just like mucking around with the characters in general. By the way...this wasn't suppposed to be an Antauri/Chiro romantic relationship pairing thing. However if you really want to envision it as such, I'm not gonna stop you! But it was supposed to just be...ah, read it and you'll see!

You knew that all hell would break lose the moment you stared into the eyes of the Skeleton King.

The light of corruption was erupting feet away as you became lost in those mavalent rubies of keen cruelty set in a blood stained soul of ameyest. A soul lost to hope, lost to the light others have installed in you and cradled safely, so much so that what those burning pinpricks of red held, could hardly be called a soul anymore.

And you were lost. Only not quite. Not yet.

The smell of salvation dwindled in the air and you could hear the movements of terrible newborn life stirring within the shell of something that should have remained buried.

'Set me free, set me free, set me free…'

And you felt sick. For you and the monstrosity shared the same trial of thoughts, the same twisted chant rhyming through your head like some obscene poetry. You wanted to be free. You wanted to live. You wanted to stop being the hero. You wanted someone to come and save you now that there was no chance to rescue yourself.

And he knew. Those same devilish rubies told you that he knew as they twinkled and glinted within their ominous sockets.

You hated him. Hated him more than anything you could feel hate for. You hated him for seeing through you, for seeing your fears and bluntly casting aside the outer casing of orange, white and green.

You hated him for seeing the fourteen year old inside.

Those same eyes narrowed and you choked, arms failing impossibly, fingers clawing for the oxygen that slipped through your gloves. There was no promise of release here.

You could taste the death penalty in your mouth.

And you waited. Waited and lived. Counted the seconds as a bony orange primate kicked your face in and wondered what they would write on your gravestone. The hero that failed?

And then there was more light, a flash of black…you saw and were saved, the invisible grip loosened from your young neck as the claw plunged into the chest of the one you abhorred.

Those rubies sparkled. The emeralds gleamed. The rubies sealed themselves into placid darkness as he fell…and the owner of the emeralds watched him fall and you rise up and live with that shocked look upon your face.

He saved you. The one with the emerald eyes saved you.

Never, never had you imagined that life would unfold in this fashion. And even as you saw it see ceaselessly unfolding, even as your breaths shortened and your eyes stared, you refused to believe in it. Until everything jumbled together and there was nothing else left to believe.

No tears. No goodbyes. Only understanding.

Because you loved him. Love, love, love…it chokes you full of repentance.

Were you not the Chosen One? His chosen one? The one who was destined to shed his blood for others?

It was your destiny. Your duty. You were supposed to fall, you were meant to seal up the crack in the Dark One's egg. It was your turn to take the final act, bear the responsibility of doomsday.

But he failed to let you take your duties.

He glowed.

DON'T!

He floated away.

STOP!

He fell.

YOU CAN'T!

He did. He took your place, damn it! For once you were supposed to bear the brute of destiny and he took it all away. It was your turn to protect him. The hero part of you was ready. Ready to leap and die. It wanted -no, needed- to push him out of the way and close the door your enemy had opened. So why didn't the hero do it?

Because the fourteen year old boy froze up. You froze up because you were young and handsome and you wanted to see Jinmay again. You swayed because you wanted to play video games with Sprx and duel with Nova, you wanted to tease Gibson and buy Otto some ice cream. And you wanted him to put his hand on your burning forehead and soothe away all the nightmares. You wanted to live.

But the emerald eyes did move. Oh yes, they did. They looked at you and they saw and they understood and they loved and they protected…

Because you were fourteen years old.

He fell for you, no hesitation and now the nightmare is over. But there's no hand on your forehead.

You will not sleep tonight. You killed him.

'No you didn't…'

It should have been you.

'No it shouldn't…'

Why not?

'You know why…'

How can you? You just want to scream and shout at him for leaving you, for abandoning you like you never thought he would. Only you can't because now only a guttural choke rips from your vocal cords. A deadly primitive one.

But even as you run away with his fur clinging to your form, yowling out your grief to the aching sunset, you know that it was not only your choice to make.

He chose you.

And not because you were the Chosen One, human, vulnerable and only fourteen…because he loved you.

That love binds you tightly together in the same body. He loves you, you love him…

But you're only fourteen.