Hello again everyone, Mitsukai here. I know that it's been a long time since some of you has heard from me, and I apologize.

I am currently going through a great difficulty in my life. It was unexpected, sickness never is, and for that, I needed to go to the hospital to be treated long term. But as it is my birthday today, even though I'm supposed to be resting, I had thought that it would be unfair to not let you all know what is happening to me since some of you had been with me from the very start, encouraging me and supporting me to grow and mature not just as a writer, but a person as well.

And, it is with this oneshot, that I will have to bid you all goodbye, at least for a while.

I'm sorry if I would be unable to finish my promise of a hundred stories. I had wanted it to come true, but now my condition has forced me to abandon one of my passions, so I would be able to continue them later. Thank you all, for those who had recognized my potential, who walked with me every step of the way into the writer I am now. I write stories so that people would be happy, and as much as I want to continue, my own personal needs come first now. It hurts me to admit this, and makes me guilty since I feel that I've disappointed all of you, but I beg your understanding, as well as patience.

If I could ask one thing... please, lend me your support and strength. For those of you who believe in a God, please, pray for my recovery. I am honestly frightened that I may not live through my sickness, that I may not live my life the way I wanted it to, but I believe that anything can happen if one wishes and works for it hard enough. And as long as there are people that I know would still care, I will do my utmost not to let you down.

With with that adieu, I bid you all to read and enjoy my last masterpiece.

It was a quiet night, and a lone figure would be seen standing in what seemed to be a portal to the past, with dark silk sheets covering an antique dark red poster-bed, its curtains pulled away and tied beside the deep lacquered posts, the wood intricately designed in the 16th century fashion, as with the rest of the furniture and decorations, looking like a scene taken from the pages of European literature, a room fit enough to be the quarters of a king.

Yukimura Seiichi looked outside, the glass windowpane separating him from the rest of the world as brilliant blue eyes gazed at the garden below, a hand pressed against the cool transparent window, as if he was trying pass through it to the almost still scenery before him. Around him, thin streams of light from the full moon filtered through the translucent curtains, bathing the previously dark room in a silvery glow, highlighting his own unnaturally pale skin, making it almost glimmer in the stark darkness of the room.

A whisper of wind touched his skin, rustling his loose-fitting robe, and he slowly sighed, a soft, melodious tenor rippling through the quiet atmosphere. He continued to stare out into the night, his gaze never leaving the outside, his young, almost effeminate features thoughtful and reserved. In all of the rooms in his home, this would be his favorite; it gave him the perfect view of the flowers he had carefully and lovingly tended below, their different hues bring his backyard into life, though now it was muted with the arrival of the night.

"Won't you join me? The flowers are quite beautiful to look at."

His voice was soft, and yet it carried over to every corner of the room. He spoke up suddenly, almost to himself, and yet he knew perfectly that there was another person in this room with him, though he was completely alone before, and that he didn't hear any footsteps or the opening of the bedroom door.

And, as if coming out of the darkness itself, another figure emerged, directly across the room, leaning against the cream-colored wall, head bowed, arms crossed against a lean, muscled chest. Darkened golden brown eyes peeked out of raven-colored bangs, almost feral looking, and yet turning soft when trained on the willowy man alighted right before his eyes.

"I don't make it a habit to look at flowers." His low-octave voice, rich, deep and almost sensual, answered back, leaving his spot to move towards the other man, his steps slow and almost purposeful as if he was letting the blue-haired man know that he was walking closer to him. He stopped, directly behind the smaller male, who neither turned nor made any indication that he acknowledged the black-haired man's presence.

"So beautiful," Yukimura continued to murmur, almost to himself, seemingly lost in his own world. "Very breathtaking, don't you agree, Genichirou?"

"… I'm not in any position to comment about the beauty of flowers." Sanada Genichirou replied, though also leveling his own brown gaze to the garden itself, finding it appealing, but only aesthetically. "You're better in those kinds of things."

"I'm not talking about the flowers, Genichirou." Their gazes, blue and brown, met in the reflection of the transparent glass. Yukimura slowly curled his hand into a fist, a finger running down to trace the reflection of a tanned cheek. Unnaturally bright eyes flickered at the taller man's handsome features, pale, pink lips quirking pleasantly at the sight of the stern expression seen on the angular face.

They were silent, with the other man not dignifying the given statement with a response. Minutes passed by slowly, but merely felt like seconds, as Yukimura finally stopped their small talk, knowing that they would have to speak of more private matters now.

"… Are you angry at me?" The blue-haired man finally asked softly, breaking their silence. The room was still, almost eerily so, and yet the two persons neither noticed nor cared, more intent on each other's presence, and the conversation they were having.

"I could never be angry with you, Seiichi." Sanada replied at once, stepping closer, almost letting their bodies touch, but still far enough to give the other a measure of space. "You know that more than anyone else."

Yukimura didn't reply, the negative response not giving the relief Sanada had expected. In fact, Yukimura looked more upset, his eyes now troubled though they still shone like twin sapphires in the midst of the moonlight and the darkness.

"Then… this is about Tezuka again, isn't it?"

Sanada's expression hardened at the mention of the brunet man. "I could never forgive him, Seiichi." He said flatly, a growl making its way through his usually stoic voice.

"I will never forgive him after what he did to you."

"That was a very long time ago, Genichirou." And yet, Yukimura could still remember it like it happened yesterday, the hurtful words, the silent tears, the almost physical pain… the blue-haired man shook his head, letting the memory disappear from his mind, unconsciously fisting his hand completely, his nails scratching the window, the loud screech breaking the tension that was starting to form between them.

"… I bear no grudge towards him." Yukimura said after a moment of pause. "I never had."

"Even then," Sanada remained unmovable in his dislike for the other man. "My hatred for him never changed."

"Because of me?" Yukimura hadn't known that Sanada's grudge against Tezuka ran this deep. But, then again, he wasn't in the right mind then to understand his surroundings clearly like he did now. He still stared beyond the window, his eyes taking in the figure of the man behind him.

Sanada didn't answer, but Yukimura knew him well enough to know that his silence was an affirmative. Yukimura suddenly smiled, pressing his palm against the glass once again, before speaking softly.

"Do you remember the time when we first met?"

The black-haired man didn't even look surprised at the sudden change of subject. He was just too used to the eccentrities of Yukimura Seiichi, and frankly, it was that trait that endeared most people to him. But the question almost put a small smile on his face, remembering that day all too clearly.

"How could I not?" It was, for Sanada, the most memorable and life-altering day in his entire life. "You were the most beautiful person I've ever seen." He admitted, a bit abashed at his thoughts.

Yukimura's blue eyes twinkled at the confession. "You were such a young boy, still an innocent child." His uncurled his fist, a finger tracing curves and lines on the glass, carefully watching as it made an invisible masterpiece. "What did you think of me when you first saw me?"

"That you were an angel, a goddess, perhaps." Sanada didn't bother hiding his thoughts from the other man. He knew that Yukimura already knew what he was thinking about. "Your beauty never changed even then, you are still the most beautiful person I know." Slowly he closed the distance between them, his hands weaving through the silken cloth that wrapped around a willowy body, eventually holding the curve of a slim waist, a soft, warm body pressing itself against him.

"Ah," Yukimura sighed, a chuckle making its way past his lips. "I see." His other hand travelled upwards, grabbing hold of a wrist, snow white fingers dancing along a back of a hand before twining their fingers together, and yet still not stopping the other from finishing its work on the window.

"It was the middle of winter then…" He continued quietly, seemingly lost in his own world as he recounted their first meeting together. "Tezuka and I were stopping by in a small village, your village, to be more specific."

"It was so cold, and yet I still went outside, never wanting to feel caged in my own home." Sanada added his own story into the narrative, remembering that time as well. "And that's when I first saw you, alone."

"I never intended to be seen by anyone, actually." Yukimura hummed in thought, drawing the last line, completing his unseen portrait of Sanada on the window. "And yet… you fascinated me. How old were you then? Twelve? Thirteen?"

"Thirteen." Sanada frowned slightly. "I remember that I disliked it when you called me 'boy' or 'child'."

"But you were a child, at least back then." Yukimura teased lightly, turning serious when gazing at the man who was cradling him protectively in his arms. "Tezuka and I stayed there longer than we needed to… which was partly my fault. Ah, I called him by his first name then too." The blue-haired man slowly reminisced, aware of the sudden tightening of Sanada's hold on him, a bittersweet feeling engulfing him as he recalled every moment, as clear as day.

Yukimura Seiichi stood in the snow, the cold not bothering him in the least, the whiteness contrasting with his own milky complexion as he observed the tiny village below, a wisp of visible air escaping his lips as he breathed out slowly.

A dark fur coat suddenly wrapped itself around him, and Yukimura smiled, clutching the coat tighter around himself, not that he desperately needed it.

"Thank you." He turned around and looked up, smiling sweetly at a tall, brunet man who was behind him, looking stoically handsome, almost as if he was a god turned human.

"We may not feel the cold, but we can try to fit in with the surroundings." The other man's tone was reprimanding, but it held a tone of warmth, addressing the blue-haired man who stood up and let himself be enveloped in a tight embrace, white-faced lovers who were out walking in the snow.

"Always so cautious, Kunimitsu." He teased, his fingers curling at the front of a thick tunic. "No one would see us from here."

Pink lips gently brushed against his hair, russet-brown orbs taking in every inch of the forest surrounding them. "We are amongst others, Seiichi. One can never be too sure."

"And then he left you," Sanada said tersely, bringing Yukimura out of his self-induced trance. "Abandoned you in the snow even though you desperately begged him to stay."

"I was… too naïve, I guess you could say." Yukimura's voice was sad, nostalgic. "He was all I had back then. I was afraid, Genichirou." Yukimura held Sanada's hand in a solid death grip. "I was afraid of being alone. Tezuka was the sole person who understood me. He was the only person who could."

"But I was there!" Sanada countered in a harsh whisper, his grip on Yukimua's hand too painful as he struggled with his emotions. "I looked out for you! I stayed by your side the first moment I saw you!"

"You were too young." Yukimura shook his head. "I didn't want to force you into my life. You would despise me later on if I did."

"Kunimitsu, please! Don't do this!" Yukimura had managed to catch up to his brown-haired companion, clutching a white sleeve tightly as blue eyes looked pleadingly up. "Where are you going? Are you going to leave?"

"I'm not blind, Seiichi." Tezuka almost growled in a low voice, holding a thin wrist as he stopped in his tracks. "I've seen the way you looked at that boy. Did you think that I haven't noticed?"

"Who– oh, that boy? For god's sake, Kunimitsu, he's just a child!" Yukimura had to admit, he did dote on that boy frequently, but for Tezuka to get jealous about it…! "He can never compare with you!"

"Seiichi, enough." Tezuka sighed and gently pried off the hand on his arm, causing blue eyes to widen in shock. "I had thought at first that I was the only one… but I was wrong."

"But… Kunimitsu…"

"It's time for me to find my own way." Brown eyes were stern as it gazed at a torn, anguished face.

"It's time for us to say goodbye."

"But you promised me!" Yukimura hadn't known that he was already screaming, too focused on the feeling of his heart breaking into a thousand pieces as he stared at the man he thought who loved him. "You promised me that you'd never leave me! That we'll always be together! How could you, Kunimitsu?! How could you lie to me?!"

"I never lied to you, Seiichi." Brown eyes were also covered in pain, but were overshadowed by ice-cold frost. "It's you who lied to yourself."

In an uncharacteristically moment of weakness Tezuka cradled a pale cheek, closing his eyes as his let his lips press against a smooth forehead, trying not to let his own selfishness win as he pulled away just enough to whisper a single word.


And then he was gone, the ice completely letting him disappear as Yukimura collapsed in the now, eyes and the snow-covered ground stained with his tears as a soul-wrenching cry echoed from the depths of his soul.

"Seiichi-san!" Yukimura didn't know how long he was laying in the snow, or how did he managed to lie there in the first place, but he felt himself being lifted up, his blurred vision eventually focusing on a youthful-looking male, not a child but not yet a man, a double vision that had Yukimura chuckling, despite feeling a pain as if his chest was just torn though. "Seiichi-san! Are you all right?! What happened?!"

With the last once of his strength, he carefully brushed away the black strands of hair that framed an anguished and worried looking face, resting it to cup on a flushed cheek. He managed to smile, but it hurt the boy more to see it, so broken and terribly lost.

"You… When did you…?"

"That doesn't matter right now! Seiichi-san, hang in there! Everything will be all right, I promise!"

"I'm sorry… for letting you see something like that…" The younger boy shook his head quickly, cradling Yukimura's body close to him, taking the man's hand that was beside his face, clear, pearly tears starting to show on his bright brown eyes.

"Seiichi-san, don't say something like that! You'll be all right! So please, please don't leave me!"

"You're still a child, young one." Suddenly Yukimura felt tired, his body turning numb from both shock and heartbreak. Right now, all he wanted to do was to sleep his pain away. "You need… to see the world… Don't… waste your life… by staying with me…"

"NO! Seiichi-san!" The boy hugged him close, feeling the boy's warmth in the tight embrace, and Yukimura sighed quietly, smiling despite himself.

"I'll stay with you, Seiichi-san! I swear I will! We'll stay together forever, and I'll never leave you! Never!"

"Forever… is just a word… boy…" His eyelids felt heavy. "Don't… make promises… that you can't keep…"

"It's not a promise, Seiichi-san." Determined brown eyes looked at him. "It's a vow."

"Really… such a good child…" Yukimura felt himself give in to the comfortable darkness, but not before whispering one last word.


"I had sworn to myself that I would find Tezuka and kill him for hurting you like that." Sanada whispered darkly. "He had no idea that he had put you through hell itself."

"I don't believe in hell." Yukimura chuckled, wondering how Sanada still believed in those kinds of things. "And… I think Tezuka already knew that we weren't meant for each other." He continued more seriously, quietly.

"But it doesn't give him the right to leave you broken like that." Sanada growled. "Six years, Seiichi. Six years of wondering if you were going to wake up, or if I'll never see you smile again. You had no idea on what I went through during that time. I protected you, I hunted Tezuka in the hope that you'll finally rouse from your sleep."

"Something that you shouldn't have done." Yukimura's tone turned scolding, almost angry. "Tezuka has more strength than you. If I didn't arrive there in time, I would have lost you."

"And I never regretted it in the least." Sanada's voice was the proof of that. "It awakened you."

"Stop !"

Yukimura had stood speechless at the scene before him, before coming back to his senses and running straight for the two men brawling on the ground, managing to grab hold of Tezuka's collar and throwing him away with a strength that surpassed his body.

"Genichirou!" He held the face he had come to know carefully and gently, almost surprised on how much his looks matured from he last saw him. Sanada Genichirou wasn't his little boy anymore.

He was already a man.

"Sei…ichi…san…?" Sanada coughed badly, hoping to high heavens that he wasn't hallucinating. "Is that… you…?"

"Don't speak. I'll take care of you this time." He pressed his lips against a bloodied forehead, carefully controlling himself, before rounding on his former lover, a snarl forming on his lips.

"First you leave me, now you're trying to kill him? Do you really want to anger me, Tezuka?" He hissed venomously, standing protectively in front of the boy now man. "Leave now, or so help me, I'm going to kill you."

"Seiichi…" Tezuka looked shocked, turning into remorse, a hand reaching out for him, but Yukimura would have none of it.

"I said LEAVE!" Yukimura snarled, poised and ready to fight if Tezuka pushed it. But the brunet seemed to have realized that as well, because he turned back and left quickly. Yukimura waited until he was finally out of sight before quickly kneeling beside the black-haired man, trying to ignore the generous amount of blood spilled on the ground.

"Genichirou! You idiot! What were you thinking?!" He grasped a hand, momentarily surprised when it was even bigger than his own, but putting it aside for more important matters.

"Finally, Seiichi-san… You're awake…" The boy–no, man whispered. "Now I can… relax..."

"No you don't," Yukimura answered fiercely, quickly wrapping his arm under Sanada's knees, supporting his head with the other as the blue-haired man stood up, carrying the other man in his arms.

"You swore to me that we'll be together, so don't you dare back out on me now."

"Tezuka's loss is my gain." Sanada pressed his face against the blue, wavy curls, slowly inhaling the unique spice scented on Yukimura's skin, feeling it heat up his blood. "…Ah."

"Is it?" The blue-haired man tilted his head sideways, exposing his long neck, made even milkier in the glint of the moonlight. "Look at you now, a handsome young man. You're actually older than me as well."

"Something I'm glad about when Tezuka left." Sanada closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, almost tasting Yukimura's scent with his tongue. A soft growl rippled against his chest, almost animalistic, making Yukimura shiver, feeling hot breaths lightly caress his skin.

"Hmm…" Yukimura tried steadying his own breaths, which had turned quick and shallow. "And finally…"

Sanada moved his face down, leveling it to the pale column of flesh, liquid brown eyes slowly melting into the color of molten steel as his bloodlust bubbled and raged, wanting to be satiated as quickly as possible, but also wanting to draw out the moment for as slow and as enticing as possible. With each intake of a breath his senses were set ablaze, reason almost spiraling down a proverbial drain as his lips curled back instinctively, gums throbbing and twin pinpricks of porcelain peeking out from thin lips.

"Seiichi." He almost snarled out the last syllable, willing himself not to give in at the urge, not yet, not until the other man gave his consent.

Yukimura's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Do it."


Yukimura slowly took himself out of his pensive state, gazing at Sanada's still, but still breathing, body. Even when close to death the man was still inordinately handsome, as if Death was being kind and had preserved Sanada's exotic beauty as a final gift. Well, Yukimura Seiichi was above death.

He was going to cheat Death once again by taking Sanada Genichirou from its sweet grasp.

He stood up, leaning over Sanada, his fingers reaching out to cup a pale cheek, pressing one last kiss to Sanada's lips.

"You told me forever, Genichirou, and so forever it will be."

Without warning, Yukimura had turned Sanada's head to the side, slowly parted his lips…

And plunged his teeth into Sanada's neck.

Yukimura's head was thrown back, a soundless gasp escaping from his lips as his fingers slid down the transparent surface of the window. His skin burned, almost scorching as lips pressed against flesh, his body shuddering as it felt the familiar sting of mixed pain and pleasure. It was a dangerous but deeply sensual kiss, and Yukimura could feel his insides throbbing, pulsing, slowly melting as his body quivered in the strong, steady hold.

It was intoxicating, a heady feeling knowing that it was his blood that was running through Sanada's veins, strengthening him, possessing him, completely and irrevocably as his.

Thin, white fingers scrabbled for a hold, to anchor themselves despite their owner's willingness to succumb and submit. Eventually they found purchase in a strong, tanned nape, and with a strength that didn't show in the willowy body, forced Sanada deeper into him, until bone and muscle and vein quivered and tangled in a circle where there was no start or end. It was too much, too painful, too unbearable to have the other so far away. It wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

Magenta-tinged irises fluttered under long, black eyelashes, staring straight ahead, into the reflection that caged the lovers both, watching the lone trickle of passion and desire tinge something so pure, red blooming against white. He wanted it, all of it, until there was no more left to give, only to take, and again, over and over until the end of eternity.

And for both of them, eternity had just begun.