His lover was falling. Mondo had been in front of him only a moment ago, and his mind was a blank slate as he tried to register what had happened. He'd been backsliding off the edge when Mondo had catapulted him back onto safe ground, and then he...Petrified for only a moment, Ishimaru dropped to his knees and leaned down over the cliff.

"Mondo!" he shrieked, desperately screaming his name as if he could hear him from this height. He knew that logically it was no use to keep doing this, but he couldn't stop shouting his name over and over again in between his sobs. Eventually his voice faltered as the sight of Mondo's impaled body on the rocks shook him to the core.

Scarlet lights resembling the blood staining the rocks below bounced off of the figures swarming the scene. In reality, everything was blaring loudly, but to Ishimaru is was all drowned out by his own shaky sobs. Remorseful faces surrounded him as men peeled the body off of the rocks and loaded it onto a stretcher. Mondo's chiseled face was no longer bearing the grin he usually wore-his mouth was set in that same serene smile he'd seen only at funerals. His pompadour had come undone by the torrential rain and his hair plastered to his neck. With his hair gone limp, he was a sad sight to Ishimaru, who knew he prided himself on making his hair similar to his brother's. Along with his suddenly pale complexion, Ishimaru noticed the gaping hole in his chest caused by the deadly rocks below. The sight of the blood coating his beloved made him gag when they wheeled him past, but he chased after the stretcher anyway.

"Mondo! Mondo!" His feet skittered across the slippery ground, and he snapped out of his numb observation. They were taking Mondo away! Unable to bear being parted with him like this, he quickened his steps to try to reach the stretcher. He needed to be there with him, he wouldn't let anything get between them. It didn't matter if people found out about their relationship, he didn't want to leave his lover alone anymore. Just as he reached out to grab the stretcher, strong hands locked across his chest from behind; he whipped around fiercely to see who dared try to stop him.

"Father?" Biting his lip, he wriggled around in hopes of breaking free, but the man gripped tighter. "I need to go to him. I-I-" he was cut off by his father's soft chiding, and the wizened man spun his body around in order to hug him. It was warm here in his father's arms, and he realized that he was soaked to the bone from the torrential rain. Prickles crept down his skin, enunciating the throbbing of his bruises from his previous scuffles. With excruciating pain, it dawned on him that Mondo wouldn't ever feel this warmth again, and he shook his head to clear the thought. The gang leader was going to pull through; he was as tough as a mother chicken defending its babies! There was absolutely no way he would leave him all alone.

"Thank you," he mumbled to his father, his thundering emotions settling like the pattering of the rain around him. Everything would be okay. Stories always had happy endings, didn't they? He released his father from his tight hug and inhaled a few breaths of the fresh air. All of the dizzying worries faded from his mind just enough for his muscles to untense and for his heart to stop aching a little. His father nudged him towards the ambulance, and Ishimaru understood his wordless support.

As if sensing his intention, the ambulance driver beckoned him over to where they were loading the stretcher inside the vehicle. Would he really be able to ride with such a fragile patient? Surely they had to follow protocol for this-

Without warning, he was lifted alongside the stretcher and they closed the metal doors behind them with a resounding clang.

Chemical odors spun Ishimaru's head until he felt like he was going to suffocate, but he knew whatever they were they were keeping his beloved in a suspended state of life. So rather than sniff disdainfully at the overwhelming stench, he breathed it in as if it was his own life that depended on it. It seemed so artificial-this life-but it was all he had to rely upon.

Soon enough the ambulance jerked to a stop, much to Ishimaru's dismay since it

caused the stretcher to nearly tip over on its side. Although he was used to enforcing safety precautions at school, his mouth could not form a single word of protest here. He wasn't sure if it was because it wasn't his place in the presence of these professionals or if the shock was still clamping his mouth shut like a clam. Either way, all he could do was meekly follow after the stretcher as it was propelled through the hallways towards the emergency room. It reminded him so much of chasing after Mondo in the hallways whenever he was skipping class or sneaking away to another gang fight.

When the stretcher clattered into the emergency room, the caretakers silently held the breathless hall monitor back. A few minutes went by. Then a few hours. Eventually he had to take a seat in the rigid chairs lined up against the wall or he would have passed out from exhaustion. His parents were able to rendezvous with him after they'd cleared the situation up with the authorities, and they whispered reassuring words to him throughout the night. Even when dawn broke and the windows allowed streams of pale light into the hall, Ishimaru was still awake. He didn't dare sleep.

At last-just as the morning birds began to chirp out their wake-up calls-the door to the emergency room creaked open. A doctor of some sort stepped out, words calmly echoing from his mouth. Either Ishimaru chose to ignore him or he couldn't hear his words, because he blindly rushed towards the door without acknowledging the doctor at all. While the doctor chatted with his parents in a hushed tone, he trotted forward until his feet crossed the threshold of the room.

Light bounced off of the white sheets spread crisply over Mondo's figure, which were rolled up to about the middle of his chest. Scratches dotted his skin, and Ishimaru could see a few stitches peeking out from where the bed sheet ended. Shuffling closer, the edges of his mouth curled upwards in a smile when he noticed the gang leader wasn't hooked up to any machines. That meant he was well enough not to need any life support!

"Oowada-kun! Oowada-kun, wake up!" He called softly, gently rocking his lover by the shoulder. Footsteps behind him made him turn around impatiently, wondering who was bothering their reunion. Perhaps a doctor letting him know Mondo would be asleep for a little longer? However, he was disappointed and slightly bewildered at the sight of his parents entering the room with a bouquet of flowers that looked more than worse for wear. His puzzlement only deepened when his father handed it to him, his face harbouring a sober countenance.

"What's this?" Ishimaru demanded, his throat closing up when an ominous feeling of dread welled up within him. The bundle of flowers was clutched tightly to his chest, its delicate fragrance smothered by the hospital air.

"Oowada-kun left these for you before the incident," his father explained, deliberately not locking gazes with the petrified teen. "I'm sure he'd have wanted you to have these in this time of mourning."

"Time of mourning? What are you talking about?" He choked out, his eyes brimming with tears. "Oowada-kun is right here, they treated him all night. There's nothing sad about that!" His arguments reverberated around the white-washed walls surrounding them, gaining conviction until they died out.

"Kiyotaka, he didn't make it."

Ishimaru's heart stopped, cracks spidering through it until it threatened to simply disintegrate. What his father just uttered was a lie. Mondo was right here next to him, he wasn't dead. But there was doubt in his mind now, and he began to notice little details that seemed to confirm his father's claim. How Mondo's chest never rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern as one did when breathing, or how his skin was unnaturally pale and marble-like. Ah, that was the answer! The gang leader hadn't died, he'd become one of those immortal, ladykiller vampires!

"Ha...ha...that's the reason. He's still alive. There's no way he could die," his voice rose a few octaves, daring for his father to contradict this. Everyone was just teasing him again. That's all this was-an elaborate prank. A gang leader like Mondo couldn't die, especially not so pitifully. Not to save him.

Collapsing beside the bed, Ishimaru clung to the bed sheet in a fit of tears. His collective weight dragged the sheet down so it bared the body's shredded chest, lacerated with the stitches of surgery. All of a sudden Mondo's muscles no longer bulged with the firmness of iron sinew. No longer was a grin etched onto his face, or his furrowed brow when they argued about their usual trivialities. He looked dead.

What his father divulged had been true, there was no way to deny it now. A pitiful wailing erupted from his throat, mourning the loss of his rival, his best and only friend, and his lover. Smushed to his chest, his bouquet of flowers cast off a few stray petals onto the floor, already wilting as if it understood Ishimaru's grief. The person who he'd wanted to spend his entire life with had already passed away, leaving him a broken hall monitor with no one to chase after through the barren halls.