Sundown spilled through the windows of Ryou's room like bloody fire, lighting his somber features and glazing his raven hair with amber. His eyes reflected the fire of the sun but gave away nothing, too old and world-weary for the face that held them. They shone like sapphires worn with antiquity in a setting of new, raw gold. He closed them, shutting out the light for a moment, and wished he could shut out the thoughts. They chased him like a tagged fox, offering him no peace. He knew he had to sleep, it was vital he get as much rest as he could. He had no predictions as to how long it would be before his body rested in a bed again, perhaps never, even dead. If their lives were lost he doubted what was left would be attended to with due honor, laid to rest somewhere. The morbid thought made him shudder.

It wasn't fair. He, the leader, the one who should take the blows, was whining about not being able to sleep when his companions lacked even that luxury. The image of them washed over him again, larger than life, ghastly, chained bodies taut with strain and hurt under the dully-gleaming armor. He shivered with some nameless dread as their screams reverberated in his thoughts, hugging himself as he recalled how their frames shook when pain shot through them at hideous levels. Kento at least seemed loud and defiant, and Ryou smiled almost unwillingly. They could chain him and not break him. But Sai- Sai must have been very hurt before he was captured, he hung limply in his bonds, green eyes dull and listless with agony. And Sage. The warrior of light weighed heavily on his mind too, probably because Ryou had thought there was nothing in any world that could make Sage scream like that. The shrill memory of it was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"Chikuso," He swore softly. He felt like he was going to be sick. And he HAD to sleep. Somehow.

"Ya should be sleepin', Ryou."

"I can't." Ryou answered, as Rowen's shadow slipped over him. The sunset had died. "And so should you."

"I can't." Rowen's voice, only just changed from childhood, sounded older than Ryou's eyes.

Ryou felt the bed dip down behind him, then the weight shift as Rowen lay down on his back, staring vacantly at the ceiling. The evening breeze rushed in through the open window, smelling perfectly of summer. Yuli was playing outside with White Blaze, and his young laughter spun and wove with the bright noise of Seiji's wind chimes. The air was gentle as it stirred the pale gauzy curtains and Ryou's hair. By rights the five of them should be out playing basketball, or swimming in the lake. The evening atmosphere was lazy and unthreatening, not one of war. Rowen stretched, his body going taut and then slack, arms above his head and dangling off the edge of the mattress. Ryou smiled ruefully at the purple bruise on the archer's left wrist, extending in a fading streak up the pale inner skin of his forearm to vanish under his rolled up sleeve.

"I thought somebody as good as you never got stung by his bowstring." Ryou traced the mark thoughtfully, thinking that Rowen's skin was so pale, almost like Seiji's... he must bruise easily.

Rowen self-consciously tugged his sleeve down a little, shrugging. "I was distracted." He looked up at the darkening sky, an inverted patch of violet from his viewpoint.

Ryou frowned. Not paying attention was a deadly mistake, and Rowen didn't GET distracted. That was no dinky graze-mark. He'd not seen a string sting so bad since he'd tried to use Rowen's practice bow himself once. The archer's eyes were clouded as he gazed at the sky. Ryou hazarded a guess. "Is it Seiji?"

He waited for the instant blistering retort, but Rowen just kept looking at the dying sunlight. The first evening star blossomed silver before he answered Ryou, and it was to shift subjects. "I thought ya might be with Mia."

"What made you think that?" Ryou shot back abruptly, and Rowen's slight smile made him realize he'd been caught in the same kind of trap he'd laid for Rowen. "Damn," he added, mildly.

"Why not?" Rowen rolled over on his side, leaning his head on his elbow and looking up at Ryou.

"You may not have anotha' chance."

Ryou folded and unfolded his hands quietly. "Rowen- do you still think that this is suicide?"

"Very likely," Rowen grinned amiably. "But we don't have a choice, really."

Ryou nodded, accepting this. "Believe me I'd very much like to… With Mia. " His voice was so soft Rowen found himself leaning closer to hear.

"But if I did pour out my soul or some shit like that, provided she didn't laugh me out of the room- she'd know I didn't expect to come back. " He turned slightly to Rowen. "I need her to have faith that we will come back- all of us. Telling her what I want to would only make it worse. If she doesn't believe in me… I'm lost."

"Probably," Rowen agreed, after absorbing this. He flopped back with a frustrated noise. "But at least she's here for you to tell. At least ya KNOW what ya wanna tell her. It's not somethin' locked up insida ya that ya don't even have words for."

Ryou felt himself smile at Rowen's words, not sure if it was from knowledge that he had been right, bittersweet joy at the unconfirmed bond between archer and swordsman, or maybe a touch of jealously. More than likely it was all of it. "You never got to tell him anything, did you."

Rowen picked at the worn blanket on Ryou's bed. "Nuthin' that mattered. Now it's too late. Nevah happen. Even if by some act of the gods we all live through this- I'm too chicken shit. " Ryou chewed his lip thoughtfully, hearing Mia calling Yuli inside, him pleading to stay out and play longer. "You... you could tell me, Rowen."

"Nani?" Rowen frowned doubtfully.

"And I could tell you," Ryou rushed, sculpting mountains with his hands, trying to vocalize his idea. "You know, what I want to tell Mia. That way even if we die, it's been said, it's been made kinda real that way, that we said it even once? And if we DO make it... and we have to make it, Rowen... then, well if someday we can face something that scares us more than the Dynasty, we've practiced our lines."

Rowen's indigo eyebrows lowered. "Ryou-"

"Forgetitforgetit." Ryou waved a hand, blushing and looking elsewhere. "It was a stupid idea, I'm just stressed." Silence seeped in, strained and aching, as Ryou stared at the armor orb resting on his bedside table.

"I would tell him-" Rowen said, barely audible in the rustle of clothing and blanket as he sat up, his long elegant fingers worrying at a hole blooming in his jeans, "that- that I never knew anybody even remotely like him before. Granted, fifteen years is not a terribly long life-" Rowen voice broke here, and he swallowed hard, wondering abruptly if such a small number was all he'd been given. Some houseplants live longer. "But... I been around, ya know? And when I saw him it was nothing unusual," Rowen gave a short bitter laugh. "'Cept, hey, dude, yer wearin' my outfit. But when we went out that first day, and talked... It was like meeting myself. And not myself like I am, but like I want ta be, I mean, Sage he knows all this STUFF. Sure I'm smart and all but Sage knows why things are, why there's seasons and life and death and he's just so fucking WITH it that I f'got ta breathe, and I realized how beau-" He paused, glancing self-consciously at Ryou. "Ryou- I dunno-"

"Go on," Ryou nodded. He watched Rowen change in front of him, from a know-it-all loner in too-tight jeans and punk hair to a vulnerable young man teetering on the brink between childhood and adulthood. He was child enough to know he was desperately in love, but adult enough to be just as desperately afraid.

"How beautiful he was. Is." Rowen admitted to his hands, staring past them and the faded blue bedspread. "In the darkness- he just shone. I wanted to be by him just ta steal the light and pretend it was mine." Rowen glanced up, blushing slightly, noticing he'd been hugging himself. "God, what a load of shit. I sound like a lovesick GIRL, b'gezus…" he laughed sheepishly.

Ryou reached out and touched Rowen's hair, surprised by how soft it was. "That was awesome, Rowen. If Sage is a dick and doesn't kiss you after something like that, come find me."

Rowen shied back some from the touch, but it was out of shyness, and he was grinning. "Fuck, Ryou…"

"That too if you want-" Ryou said, and blinked when he realized he had. "Um-" His cheeks reddened silently.

Rowen tossed him a shy glance from under his trailing bangs, and Ryou was reminded of how bashful Rowen really was under the brass. And how pretty. He never thought he would call a boy that, it must be the pink stain on his cheeks.

"Your turn."

"Huh?" Ryou had been thinking about the logistics of fucking Rowen.

"Ta tell 'Mia' y'know…"

"Oh." Ryou paused, gathering his thoughts. "If I could tell her anything it would be-" He pondered. "I love you."

Rowen's lips curved wickedly. "I see. So if ya could tell her what'eva ya wanted, ya would tell her that ya love me."

"Yeeah…" Ryou was dreamy, and shook himself. "What? No, Damnit! Rowen! I'd tell her I love HER, sheesh!"

"Sorry," Rowen smirked. "I couldn't help it." His face shifted from teasing to serous like clouds over water. "Ryou… could ya say it again? Please?" Rowen shut his eyes.

Ryou's eyes slid over Rowen's face, rapt and hopeful. His body was tense, and Ryou knew he was willing to hear the words in another voice, one that rarely got above a sedate murmur. "I love you."

Rowen let out the breath he was holding, smiling like a very youthful, contented Buddha. "Thanks, Ryou."

"Rowen… could you do me a favor?"

"Anythin'," Rowen responded, opening his eyes again.

"Would you- you don't have to but if you wouldn't mind- just kiss me? NothingbigImeannotongueornuthin-"

"Ryou?"

"What?" Ryou was twisting part of the blanket nervously.

"I can't if ya don't shut the hell up."

"Oh." Ryou shut up, and waited.

Rowen leaned forward, and hesitated. "Um, ya probably askin' th' wrong guy... I nevah done this..."

"Kissed a boy?"

"Kissed anybody," Rowen replied, and then made that statement an untruth before his courage left him. Ryou's lips were warm and soft under his own. Their eyelids shut instinctively. For a moment neither of them moved, just holding mouth to mouth, and it occurred to Rowen that of what he'd seen this was no way to go about it. Shouldn't they be moving more or something? Experimentally, he pulled a little on Ryou's lower lip, his tongue stroking along the shape of it. Hell, this might be the only kiss either of them ever get, better make it good. Ryou's lips yielded to him in invitation, and he took it.

It was like most first kisses, unskilled and alien but enthusiastic, the fire of new sensations enough to make up for lacking experience. Ryou felt Rowen's hands on his shoulders move down to his back, pulling him closer. His own hands found Rowen's angular hipbones beneath the painted-on worn denim, kneading the muscle there. Ryou made a soft hungry sound in Rowen's mouth, and Rowen answered it.

Ryou, if we live through the next week-

None of this ever happened.

Right.

They kissed with fierce desperation, parting only after they had learned as much as they could from a first kiss. Surprisingly, full night had arrived while they weren't looking, and the whole room was colored with a blue non-light like Rowen's armor. They pulled off clothing without regard for what they were doing, so hungry for something beyond fear that the simple touch of skin to skin was like a blessing, their hungry noises hanging in the summer air like a benediction. They couldn't get enough of the sheer presence of each other, trying vainly to fill the raw, three-part gnawing emptiness in their souls.

Rowen stopped suddenly, as Ryou pulled the blankets over them, and touched the other warrior's shoulder. "Ryou, as much as I'd give up my life for Seiji and the otha's ta be safe... don't think I don't want ya he'a with me now."

"I understand." Ryou pressed close against him. "I'd love to tell her. It's a cold comfort, I guess. At least there are two of us." He paused, as Rowen buried his face in Ryou's hair. "Rowen, if you weren't here... I don't know what I'd do."

"You'd save four instead of three." Rowen kissed Ryou's neck, tasting warm skin and salt. "I don't wanna think about it, Ryou. I don't wanna think at all."

For a long time they just lay there, shyly pressing themselves together, kissing until they got the slide of tongue into mouth just right. Ryou tried not to think about what he was doing, rubbing himself against Rowen's belly like he was, feeling Rowen doing the same to him. He wondered, just maybe, if they were tired enough-- It might give them both some rest. He had just left his hands on Rowen's back, but now they slid lower and foreword, and gently closed on the archer.

"Tell me we need this. It gives me a reason."

Rowen tucked his face in Ryou's shoulder, and wildfire felt a warm grasp enfold him. Rowen just nodded as his hands began to move, all the affirmative he could provide.

"Oooh..." Ryou arched, shifting his hips beneath the blanket as Rowen felt him up, his fingers almost petting him and smoothing the wet over his skin. At least they were under covers, had Rowen been looking at him Ryou would have been mortified. But there was a firm need in his hands, warm and wanting him, and he stroked and touched as Rowen groaned helplessly into the pillow, unable to deny his own body. It was good, sweet not to think, if even for just a moment, and give in to someone's touch. He always wanted to know what it would be like to be felt by hands not his own, and for all he knew this might be the only-

Don't. Don't think at all. Just feel. Rowen's essence washed over him strongly, he wondered if it was desire or the physical contact that so intensified the telepathy. Sharp teeth bit into Ryou's shoulder, and he forgot to wonder, holding Rowen as the other boy thrust his hips faster into his hands. Rowen whimpered in frustration, taking it out on Ryou's need silky in his palm. He wanted to so much, but it was too embarrassing to think about. The image filled his mind's eye, liquid pleasure spattering over the dark tight muscles of Ryou's abdomen, and he sobbed. He shouldn't have let himself imagine. It was too late now, and Ryou was murmuring encouragement, he was past stopping and felt it, a smooth languid rush of utter release leaving him, and he panted sated humiliation into Ryou's shoulder.

"God Ryou," he gasped, not looking at him, wondering if he could ever look at him again. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Rowen- it's allri-" Rowen shook his head and shuddered, tears coming from tightly shut eyes. Ryou had not let him go and was still squeezing gently.

"Rowen." The archer's hand was carefully disentangled from between Ryou's legs, and placed against his own stomach. His fingers brushed wet. "It's alright," Ryou repeated firmly, and Rowen blindly realized that what was on him wasn't his, and recognized the breathless shocked tone of Ryou's voice for what it was.

"Oh."

"Look at me."

Rowen reluctantly lifted his head from Ryou's shoulder; he was so TIRED all of a sudden. Ryou's eyes glowed blue in the dark. "Thank you." Ryou's voice sounded just the same as it had when he had said "I love you." It made Rowen's skin prickle, and the smile was involuntary.

"You're welcome... Ryou..." Rowen felt his cheeks burn. "Am... amIstillavirgin, ya think?"

"Does it matter?" The shadowy form tipped his head thoughtfully.

Rowen looked at the shapes their bodies made under the blanket. Ryou's hands were still on him, and Rowen had not let go completely either.

"Seiji-" was all he said.

Ryou's heart ached. "I think so," he reassured him.

"I think... I can sleep now..." Rowen brushed his lips across Ryou's a final time, drowsily.

"Here?" Ryou let him go, but only to pull them together. Forget if it wasn't tidy.

"Yeah..." Rowen's eyes were slipping closed, Ryou's head sinking onto his pillow as the desperately needed sleep found them at last, soothing their weary hearts. Their breathing evened, and in each other's arms no nightmares found them.

When Mia looked in on them some time later, she smiled softly to herself, eyes wistful. Ryou and Rowen had found comfort, she told herself. That was what was important, even if it was with each other, and not with her. She couldn't afford selfishness. More things rode on their bare shoulders than the emptiness of her bed.

She shut the door softly behind her.