A/N: I've decided to give Aaya-chan a break; this time it's Yuki's turn—although most of the torture is heaped on Kyou. Not much of the Trio in this one really…Yay! YukiXKyou fans, grab your tissues and/or tomatoes!

Disclaimer: I don't own Furuba and I'm not making money off this either

Ratings: PG-13

Genre: Angst/Tragedy

Warnings: character death, slight shounen-ai, dark

Main Characters: Kyou

Additional Notes: nothing really…

Cold Beyond The Sun

It wasn't supposed to be this way… He wasn't supposed to feel like this… He'd thought he'd feel some pleasure, some release, as the knife went through that pale flesh, just below the ribcage…but he hadn't. The blood had covered his face and stained his hands and clothes; the red was almost beautiful on that whitewashed face, those eyes still wide…

It wasn't supposed to be like this…

He was supposed to feel…completed

So why was it that he felt so empty? He'd won the bet the moment Yuki had drawn that last, rattling breath… So why did he feel like he'd lost more than he gained? Why? He couldn't understand it, even as he sat alone in that dark room.

He'd watched, silent and awed, trembling, as Yuki had struggled, fighting to live with the fatal wound he'd been given, gasping. He'd fallen to his knees next to the one who'd always been his greatest enemy, his envy; his eyes had been wide, feeling utterly numb. He'd dropped the knife as though it had burned him, swallowing as his body began to shake.

Those flickering violet eyes had begged, pleaded for a reason, for justification. He swallowed again and told his reasons, feeble as they now seemed, to the dying boy. He couldn't lose the bet with Akito, couldn't bear the thought of confinement, the dark future, if he lost… He couldn't lose the life he had now…he just couldn't

Shigure had found them; he'd seen the blood and called Hatori. Then all was a blur… He only remembered desperate voices…screaming…yelling…and a numb, cold feeling… He'd felt sick as he looked at the glistening crimson on his hands.

It would be another two hours before he was informed of the rat's death. When he was told, he'd realized the truth—he'd killed someone—he'd killed Yuki. Yuki. He'd vomited with the knowledge, his eyes burning.


Akito had come, more angry than she'd ever been, furious, and beat him, but he couldn't remember the blows, just a feeling of emptiness. He'd been confined after the funeral. In his mind, the funeral was the worst part. Seeing Touru's tears…each drop cut him like knives. Ayame only looked at him silently, those golden eyes asking an unanswerable question…


He missed Yuki terribly in that dark shack, utterly alone as he was. He missed the voice he used to hate…or at least had always thought he hated… He ached to see those violet eyes again, so much softer than the indigo that visited him now.

At night, when the world turned black and he could no longer escape his thoughts and memories, he cried, screaming and throwing himself at the lonely walls of his prison.

He swallowed; it had been a month—a month since he'd murdered the rat—and his mind, his soul, was in its final death-throes. The knife had been mounted on the wall of the shack—Akito's orders—and crimson eyes fixed on it now. It seemed so fitting to him, so right that he should end the torment with the very knife that had caused it.

It took him three tries to pull the blade from its place. He kneeled there, in the dirt and mud and grime—this would end the feeling he felt. This would end the stinging pain. Even as he the steel cut through the sickly pale skin of his throat, he could hear Yuki's last words to him.

"I…forgive you...and I love…you…"


A/N: Wow…sad. The shounen-ai was light, but I suppose you could say it was YukiXKyou. I'm not even a fan of this pairing, but I felt like killing Yuki…or at least writing something very angsty. In any case, review!