Dearest Reader,

Thank you for visiting my fanfiction. I would be most grateful if you would please review this story. Criticism is both welcomed and encouraged.

Your humble servant,

xXKuroTenshiXx

WARNING: SCENES OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.


Ritsuka was the worst at sports.

Ever.

He didn't have problems with coordination or anything. He was, however, terrible at judging distances. He would try to throw a basketball into a hoop that was seven feet away, and end up throwing the ball a mere three feet in front of him. In volleyball, he never hit the ball over the net unless he was on the front row. There was no denying it. He completely sucked.

He walked out of the gym, sweaty and red faced, to the boy's locker room, when Yuiko raced up to him. "I enjoyed watching you in basketball, Ritsuka-kun!" Ritsuka heaved a great sigh. "You don't have to be nice, Yuiko. I know I'm bad at sports." Yuiko blushed and stuttered, trying to find something good to say. He smiled, "But, it's okay. I'm good at other things. Besides, sports are your thing."

It was true. Yuiko was on the track, basketball, volleyball, soccer, and swim team. She had even almost landed a spot on the football team, but the coach's son got the last position. "Arigato, Ritsuka-kun!" After showering and changing, Ritsuka walked back to his locker, it being the end of the school day. He gathered his various books and headed outside, only to find a tall, bespectacled blond waiting for him. "Good afternoon, Ritsuka." said Soubi, a wide smile on his face."

Ritsuka cringed at the sound of his Sentouki's voice. He hated this man, and he never understood why he never simply walked away when he came to the school. "Let's just go before Yuiko gets out here." Soubi gently took Ritsuka's bag from him, and grabbed Ritsuka's hand. The nekomimi blushed, managing to sputter out, "You don't have to take my bag..."

"Of course I do. I wouldn't want my little Ritsuka's shoulder to be strained."

"I'm not your little Ritsuka! And, I don't own you either! I can carry my own things!" fumed Ritsuka, annoyed at Soubi's words. The man ignored this, leaving Ritsuka's bag on his shoulder. They stayed silent for the rest of the way home, not stopping until they reached the front door.

When they got home, Soubi turned to Ritsuka, kissing him gently on the lips. The sacrifice stayed in that position momentarily, before regaining his composure. Pushing him off, Ritsuka exclaimed, "Soubi! If mother sees us..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. "I can handle her. Why won't you let me?"

"Because, that wouldn't help me at all! Just go! I can take care of myself."

"As Ritsuka wishes." Soubi handed the boy's bag back to him and turned to walk away. Ritsuka shook his head and ran into his house and up to his room. He threw his bag down, and tore open his curtains to watch Soubi. He never knew why he did this. Seeing the man walk away always made him feel scared and upset as if he were his only mode of safety.

"How do you do this to me, Soubi?" said Ritsuka, his hand over his quickly beating heart. "Ritsuka! Dinner in an hour!" said Misaki, Ritsuka's mother. Ritsuka went over to his desk and pulled out his "Ritsuka" notes. In order to keep his mother from beating him, Ritsuka kept a notebook that had all of the traits of the "Ritsuka" that his mother loved. He studied these as much as he could, and his spent most of his time looking over "Ritsuka's" favorite foods.

Okay, shitaki is okay when fried, carrots are a no, beets are good, teriyaki chicken is no good, chirashizushi is good, if sushi has nori on it, I don't eat it, and sukiyaki is okay. FOR THE THIRD TIME, DON'T EAT THE CUCUMBERS! Shougayaki is my favorite food, so you might groan if there is none. No syrup on pancakes. I only eat chocolate cakes and I don't take my tea with sugar.

Ritsuka studied his notes carefully until his mother called him down. He put up his notes, took a deep breath, and walked downstairs. Misaki smiled her fake warm smile as she waited for him at the table. "Evening, mother." said the boy, as was customary from "Ritsuka".

"Good evening, dear. Go ahead and pick what you like. I made plenty of everything." Ritsuka scanned the food carefully. The entrees were yakiniku and shougayaki with stir-fry vegetables, and three flavors of cake. "I'll have shougayaki and vegetables, please." Misaki smiled, satisfied. Dinner went on without a hitch. Then came dessert.

"Which flavor of cake, honey?"

"Chocolate, please."

"With or without whipped cream?"

Ritsuka froze, heat rising in his throat and into his cheeks. Damn! I didn't write notes about whipped cream. What do I say?

"Um...none?" The words had barely escaped his mouth before a fist met with his jaw. "Wrong! All wrong! You're definitely not my Ritsuka. He always took his cake with cream. Always! You, you...imposter!" Misaki pushed him hard on the floor, kicking him in his stomach and side, successfully breaking a rib. Ritsuka then felt several slashed on his face. Grabbing him by the hair, she drug him up the stairs, shouting profanities all the way. She threw Ritsuka into the bathroom, his scalp bleeding. "Where is my Ritsuka? Tell me! I'll kill you!" These sorts of words hurt Ritsuka more than the physical pain. "Mother, I'm Ritsuka! Me!"

"Liar!" She punched him in the stomach, making him fall on the ground. Turning on the scalding bathwater, she shoved him face under the water, earning a pained scream. "Where is he? NOW!" Ritsuka simply stared, crying, unable to speak. Misaki's face suddenly went blank. She let go of his head, and stood, looking at him momentarily before running out of the bathroom. Ritsuka, still crying, crawled to his room, barely able to breath and bleeding profusely. Managing to pick up the phone, he dialed the only number he could think of.

Soubi Agatsuma was silently painting in his study, his hair in its usual ponytail, finally managing to get some alone time from his overbearing friend, Kio. Suddenly, his phone rang, causing him to jump a little. Looking at the caller I.D., he was dumbfounded to realize that it was his Sacrifice who was calling.

"Ritsuka?"

"S...Sou..."

"Ritsuka! Are you alright? What's going on?"

"I need you...Soubi...She...mother..."

Instantly realizing the situation, Soubi undid his hair and jumped from his window, in too much of a hurry to use the door, dead set on getting to his Sacrifice as soon as possible.

Ritsuka's whole body seemed to scream with agony while simultaneously rendering him unable to speak. He was only able to lie on the floor, bleeding and unmoving, tears slowly falling from his pained and tired eyes. Never had he understood what he had done to deserve this treatment, though he never doubted that he did. He loved his mother so much. If he loved her, then why did she feel so compelled to hurt him? He reasoned that it must have been something "Ritsuka" had done. "Ritsuka? Dear God, Ritsuka, why do you stay here? Can you hear me? Don't speak, just nod." He nodded in reply. "Good. I'm going to help you. I promise." Soubi carefully scooped up the poor half-dead boy, tucking his precious head under his chin. Walking to the door, he jumped out, murmuring an apology for the potential discomfort of the jump.

Soubi burst into the emergency room shortly after, exhausted from the long run. "Oh God. Sir, what happened to this boy?" said a female doctor who had happened to be in the waiting room. "He was beaten by a family member. He passed out on the way. I think he may be in comatose. Please hurry!" said Soubi, more scared than he had ever been in his life. "Of course. Get me a gurney in here! We have one in critical condition! Sir, could you tell me your name and relation to this boy?"

" My name is Soubi Agatsuma. As for him...he's my boyfriend, doctor." The woman smiled knowingly. "You're going to have to give the poor dear to us for a few hours." Soubi nodded sadly, laying his Sacrifice onto the gurney and making his way to the waiting area.

Ritsuka's eyes fluttered open, his sleep having been disturbed by a periodical beeping from somewhere to his right. He felt as if he was a thousand pounds heavier, and his whole body was cold, excepting a strange warmth covering his left hand. He looked over to the source of the warmth, only to find his Fighter slumped over, fast asleep with his head laying on the hospital bed. Ritsuka managed a moan, effectively waking Soubi. "Ritsuka? Ritsuka, thank God you're alright! Ritsuka, why do you stay with that woman? Do you even know how much you worry me? You have to let me take you with me! If not for you're sake, at least do it for me. Please."

Ritsuka stared at Soubi, stunned by his plea. He would've never imagined that he of all people would plead to him. "You don't have to speak. Just squeeze my hand for yes. Please, Ritsuka, I'm begging you." Ritsuka looked into the man's eyes, taken aback by the sincerity he found in them. Without thinking, he took Soubi's hand, giving it a weak squeeze. Overjoyed, Soubi took the poor boy's hand, kissing it with fervor. "I swear to you, you will never regret it. I'll always protect you. Always."

Soubi kept his promise. Shortly after Ritsuka's recovery, Soubi regained his sarcastic attitude, succeeding in annoying Ritsuka, thought he eventually grew to love this demeanor. Perhaps he was not as bad at judging distances after all.


Please let me know if you enjoyed it. I look forward to your reply.

Your Humble Servant,

KuroxXxTenshi