A/N: Can't believe I was able to accomplish this much without giving up, it is such a bad habit. LOL. As we speak I'm going along with the flow most of the times, I rewrote the first part three times but stayed with the first attempt. Sorry if it's not…good. The reason is because I didn't wanna rush this—as if I already haven't done so—and trying to manage a solid resolution for this chapter. And yet here I am, banging my head against my laptop and saying, "WHAT THE EFFF SHOULD I WRITE?!" That shrill cry was basically on the first part to keep it at a steady place. Who reads this anyway? xD Read, review (if ya would be so kind ;) and enjoy (hopefully or I'll hide my head under the table in shame). I phail.
Extra notes: As always forgive my spotted mistakes. ;~; Ah yes. OHGEE, GAWD I HATE RATATOSK HERE. HOLY SWEET JEBUS. I THINK THIS CHAPTER KILLED HIS CHARACTER. MOTHERFUU——bleeeeep——uh. Yeah. I always complained about every chapter I made and said I don't like it, right? Then here is something new—and no, it's not like I actually like it this time-gets shot- —I really don't like this chapter, I kinda hate it. I went too mushy, too rushed, but if I don't post this then no other chapter will ever get posted. C'est la vie…
Disclaimer: Would you ever think someone like me would be rich enough and have the time to make a fanfic if I actually own something? Ffff, nope. So, in other words, I don't own sheet.

If there can be only one word Ratatosk could describe how he feels is this: betrayal. If it was not for Emil the red-eyed blond would have never experience how much he devoted his life for the sake of his sibling's well being. Emil wore such a bright smile from telling Ratatosk the news, obliviousness to any other reaction other than excitement coming from him. Scarlet eyes peered down at their joined hands, he always felt at ease brushing against Emil's smooth hands but more than ever he exposed his frown, teeth dangerously gritting and a lethal glint in Ratatosk's blood-red orbs. The sight of it instantly made Emil flinch as the older blond squeezed his hands tighter than needed be. The green-eyed teen incoherently questioned Ratatosk's behavior, desperately trying to pry his hands away when he finally noticed how irritably Ratatosk bit down on his bottom lip whilst one fang piercing down on the skin. Ratatosk growled in displeasure and violently jerked his hands away from the younger blond.

Thrown off guard, Emil stumbled back and trembled under his twin's scrutinizing glare. As Ratatosk crept closer Emil grew cautious and anticipated the thought to distance himself further, to voice out his fear against his own brother has died down – it was the first time Emil witnessed such hostility coming from sibling which eventually made him feel hollow like back in the days were he cried about his loneliness. Clenching his eyes shut Emil felt as if his body went entirely numb and the wonderful breeze of the new morning has disappeared, leaving him surrounded by an air of nothingness: the atmosphere felt did not feel warm, nor was it chilly, and finally Emil could not even process the idea of it technically being 'just right.' Hesitation was replaced with a small amount of valor for Emil to find himself not with Ratatosk but in the same vast world of blank-white nothingness.

From fear Emil bit down on the nail of his thumb. He hated it here.
He hated it.

The world of a white abyssal leads to an invisible trail formed by an eternal loop, wherever his destination would be it would be like walking straight back to naught, his efforts to escape or find someone ended in vain last time. Possibly, and only by chance, he only woke up with voices of concern looming over him to keep track of his condition. Desperation soon followed as he began to run—however, he knew he would not get anywhere—the longing for someone already so familiar. His panicked green-eyes desperately searched the surrounding area to find a possible exit—the odds were highly against him but it the best option than just standing there alone and terrified. The scene replayed right before his eyes, half-relieved and half-upset to catch sight of the walking Ratatosk. The pattern corrupted when the red oval containment only had half the protection, some red pieces of the barrier were gradually constructing itself piece by piece like a puzzle. Taking one precautionary step Emil called out weakly for Ratatosk, his voice lagging its original volume from the petrifaction of this world.

Emil took a look to either side, noticing the three color spectrum entwining in a gentle flow. He lifted one hand surrounded by the faint green aura; he bit down on his lip to suppress the pain of touching the red containment with left hand. Why, Emil pondered, why is some of the red chipped off to begin with? Last time this red-thing was a perfect oval, but now…

"Rat-Ratatosk! Please! Won't you answer me?" Emil pleaded; the pain agonizingly felt like it was scorching his skin from the static energy flowing outside the barrier. The teen gave up, his legs were the first to collapse on the white abyssal ground—if there was such a thing—he then held his palms close to his eyes to block the leaking tears streaming down his cheeks.

"We made a promise--"

"--doesn't need my anymore."

"--after all I've done--"

"Emil…"

Emil gasped at his name, the Ratatosk he sees before him has yet to vanish but the voice was alike with his older sibling. His green eyes stole a glance at Ratatosk, the teen did not budge an inch, did not open his eyes, his mouth did not even look like it was moving: the voice came from around the white abyss. Emil took an automatic assumption that these thoughts, so to speak, where being projected for him to hear. Before he had the opportunity to listen to more, especially since the last statement sounded significantly important, he closed his eyes and reopened them to find himself confronting a furious Ratatosk, seething with rage, his eyes brutally impatient whilst both their faces only had an inch-worth of separation.

"Where is he, Emil?" he asked again with bitter resentment, trying to force the answer out when Emil drifted off into another world. "Where the hell is he? Tell me!"

Emil attempted to shift to one side, his back has sunk uncomfortably at the edge of the wooden steps behind him, he also begun to feel the pain of his elbow leaning far too long on the handrail bar. He brought his green eyes to Ratatosk's level, moodily they grew half lidded; this occurred far too many times for Emil's liking. He would confess he felt terrified stiff to grow a backbone against Ratatosk, but he could not let everything slide and eventually wait for Ratatosk's temper to simmer.

"You should've said something to your brother when he spoke to you like that," Richter casually stated, his green orbs dangerously narrowing into slits, "those who runaway at the sight of another's anger are dogs, maybe even worse. Are you a dog?" He shifted his attention from Emil to the statue, "Or are you really a man?"

Emil took a stance, momentarily resisting the moment to cower as he clenched his fist in opposition to the red-eyed blond. A daring wisp of the air slid past his blond fringes, revealing the stoned-expression that almost delivered a look of shock on Ratatosk's enraged expression.

"No, I won't."

Ratatosk flinched, he never heard Emil adamantly talk back to him – defending a stranger to this extent no less! He lost all signs of his actions as Ratatosk lifted his hand up, the swift move released the sound of slicing wind and finally the struck hit Emil's cheek and jaw line harshly. The taste of copper formed inside of the younger blonde's mouth, the flow of saliva and blood dribbled down the side of his lip as he coughed the leftover copper-tasting fluid, he brushed the remainder plastered on the side of his lip away with his wrist. Green eyes were swelling with salty tears, Emil gently rubbed his sore cheek and winced in pain, seething and inwardly cursing the pain. The back of his mind nagged him to steal a glance over his brother, the rest advised him to walk away until Ratatosk felt better, and the tears were not for the pain—the burning sensation, the taste of blood, the mere touch that badly stung—but for the hurt. This was the first time Ratatosk has ever wounded him physically, Emil noted, and the older blonde's stubborn attitude made it all the more worse.

Emil felt beyond exhausted, the tears were flowing freely down his cheeks, his nose felt runny, and his head begun to felt like it was pulsating. He hated the way compromises have to be made, how much verbal abuse he intakes from everyone and mostly from Ratatosk. Every fight, every bicker – as much as he hated it he could not and would not hate Ratatosk.

Without anymore hesitation Emil craned his neck back, diverting his eyes from the ground to Ratatosk.

And after so many years Emil felt he would know Ratatosk's response towards anything…he never felt so dead wrong.

Ratatosk's eyes were filled with dread, sucked in bitterness, guilt, fear. His mouth opened and twitched as if he were trying to actualize words that utterly failed. Ratatosk's face paled and clutched his recent outstretched hand close to his chest, as if in horror it would react on its own to strike again. Emil grew almost concerned when he saw the prideful and bold Ratatosk legs shaking violently and any movement will threaten to make the teen fall to the floor like a helpless individual. These reactions, Ratatosk's reaction, were beyond Emil's understanding and yet he could not find the energy to budge from his spot.

"E-Emil," Ratatosk voice was on the edge of cracking and desperation, "I…I d-didn't meant th-that, we were – I was…! I-it wasn't suppose to turn this way…fuck!" He held his head on his palm, lowering his bangs to hide away the shame. He spun his heel, replacing his hand with his black scarf to hide his disgrace from curious and alarmed villagers. The older blond ran a string of curses in his head, without looking he could feel the pressure of their gazes directed only on him. Shit, mind your own damn business! He cursed loudly, and with the black scarf covering his eyes—he did not even care where he was headed to by concealing his vision—he almost tumbled backwards when a stiff figure failed to move from the awkward collision. His fumed in rage but said nothing only until his scarlet eyes gave a standard blink to be positive who he was seeing before him.

The figure who failed to move.
The man who stood in his way.
The redhead who took Emil.

"You." Ratatosk said more as a statement than a question, albeit his voice positively laced with malice, "What did you do to Emil?" The frustration brought the older teen's body to shake, his hands were holding on the blue gown for dear life, and his eyes were clenched tightly together. "Why did you have to get involve in our lives?!"

The silence stilled Ratatosk's temper, he dearly felt like cupping his hand on his sword, forcing it out of the scabbard and finally strike the redhead with whatever he has. After an amount of time Ratatosk held all his patience, slowly he pried his hands away from his blue gown, and finally opening his scarlet eyes. Richter had an expression that peeved Ratatosk further, it was a look of annoyance and disinterest, and if the redhead could express himself further he would have sighed by now. The apathetic green eyes bore down on the blond, making him shift uneasily from the awkward stare.

"Have you ever tried hearing what Emil has to say? Or rationally talking at all?" he said plainly, crossing his arms, adverting his attention to the other edge of Luin. "I'll be waiting on the opposite end near the fountain."

Ratatosk glowered at the many walking right past him. Listen to Emil? Who the hell does he think he is to tell me what I should!

All options the older blond had to this point felt useless, and as much as he hated to admit it Richter's logic was all the more reasonable to go with. Then again, Ratatosk hesitated to question, what more is there to talk about? His younger twin wants to leave him, and he will be left alone with these horrible folks of Luin. Ratatosk sucked his teeth; he contemplated how colorless the world around him felt like, how everyone else if just a figure with flesh covering their body and their entity defined by their own distinctive personality or 'individuality,' regardless of all the attributes Ratatosk felt they simply are not there. He gave a final piercing stare at the body of water surrounding the creaking wooden ridges, he then plucked a pebble from the ground, tossing it aimlessly up and down in his right hand. The water reflects his pursed lips, his knitted brows, his red eyes heavily lost and soulless. His pensive moment was cut short when he forcibly threw the stone at the water, creating distorted ripples of his reflection.

No matter how much he did not want, no matter how much his insides felt like they were churning Ratatosk resigned his pent-up anger and took a steady pace back home.

Time to talk with Emil.

The blond wrapped a few blocks of ice with paper towels, concealing it thick enough that he could feel the coolness and secures it from leaking onto his clothes. Emil laid his head on the kitchen table, resting his cheek on the side not struck by Ratatosk's hand on the wooden top, the free hand was to lay the makeshift icepack on his bruised cheek. Before he entered he heard his jaw crack as he sent soothing circles around the corner of his lips to alleviate the ache, nothing was broken but he could feel the proper alignment unlike before, and Emil just waited for Ratatosk to come to properly explain like in every situation. His eyelids grew heavy, struggling to keep conscious but growing easily bored waiting for his twin's arrival, just thinking about the scenario had him straight awake again. If anything he would simply be pleased if no more arguments occurred all in one day.

The front door loudly creaked open, the ambient laughter in the background has been tuned out as Emil's heartbeat raced and fully concentrated to the reverberation of the slamming door. His body shook nervously, his feet were curled together, he released his hand and let them both claw into the skin of his knees. Prepare yourself, Emil repeated like a mantra, prepare yourself for the worst. The sound of footsteps jumped off the walls, causing the echoing sounds to create a fear in Emil's churning stomach like he was on the verge of gulping down his fear or hyperventilating from the nerve-wracking moment. The green-eyed blond felt eternally grateful his head faced the opposite direction of the door so he did not have to see the Ratatosk pulling a seat forward, sitting on the other end where he only could see the back of Emil's head.

The disgusting feel of guilt wormed its way into Ratatosk's heart, Emil had always known when he was in the room from the sound of his footsteps—the younger twin said it, too—and yet Emil was clearly trying to avoid looking at him. Ratatosk hesitantly raised his hand, a few inches apart from Emil's shoulder to give a gentle pat and say: "Look at me, Emil, don't do this." Instantly his finger were the first to coil back into a fist as he brought his hand back to his side, shaking his head once he saw the large makeshift icepack resting on the swollen cheek—damn, Ratatosk cursed, he really had to control his strength—that delved to a darker shade of pink due to the period of time the ice had contact with Emil's cheek. Ratatosk eyes drew half-lidded, his index finger gently scratching the side of cheek in uncertainty. How do I start an apology? He thought, his scarlet eyes closing; shortly he considered giving up once his head began to throb from a whole minute of thinking and concluding to nothing.

The older blond breathed through his nostrils, he dropped his finger and clamped his hands together. His eyes were now open as he scanned the room, attempting as hard as he can to properly…apologize. "Emil," he said, the resonance in his voice slowly dying when he heard how just one word caused the other blond to visibly jump slightly, regardless Ratatosk continues if not more tensely, "you…you heard me bumbling like an idiot, right? Really, I didn't mean to—I didn't want it to…my mind just…shit! How do I do this?!"

It was not the tone of his voice that startled Emil but how forcibly Ratatosk slammed his elbows on the table, his head being supported by his palms, his fingers curled around his blond fringes messily. Emil almost laughed if the moment was not overpowered in awkwardness, these are the times without looking Emil could practically feel the aura of gloom and frustration all at once; he smiled wholeheartedly that Ratatosk was trying to apologize. Apologies for Ratatosk were the hardest things to come do but slaying down monsters, going through ominous woods, or beating children or causing fear to adults without a care in the world were effortless. Just as Emil could lift his head and say to his frustrated twin: "It's alright, just forget about it," the teen tried another attempt to 'talk.'

"I hate how…I despise the thought of someone, umm, hurting you," his voice sounded strain and Emil only listened more attentively, "and it pisses me off when I see that damn girl around, the wretched witch at least has some intelligence to stay the hell away from both of us. B-but this isn't the point! I hate just about everyone in Luin—that jerk you met is no exception—and just seeing you…happy…withsomeoneelsereallygetsmefurious. I said it and dammit, Emil, say something! Anything!"

No response.

Ratatosk drew his exasperation in a sigh. "Then hear this: I'm trying to talk as it is. For Martel's sake, Emil, I listened to someone to do this!"

Still no response.

Ratatosk shot up from his seat, his anger indescribable and storming across the other side of the room. "Fine, leave. Go ahead, see if I care. Just remember who saved your ass every time I could! I'll live here while you go out into the world and most likely get yourself killed or abandoned while I finally have no one restraining me from killing someone."

Ratatosk slammed the door shut, sitting down on one of the steps as he sunk his head in his arms. He made no indication of moving until the door open, revealing his twin sibling with a plastered smile gracing his lips. Unexpectedly Emil laughed, loudly and freely, and crouched at eye level to the irked Ratatosk.

"Here I thought you really didn't want to leave." Emil said evenly in a composed voice, happily grinning when the gleam in his brother's red eyes were dropping the angered exterior. "Ratatosk, I'm leaving, we're leaving. I got Richter to agree on both of us to go, now stop sulking. I would be very relieved if you came along, I d-don't think I would be comfortable to hear gossip through towns my sibling has gone through a murderous rampage and plaguing towns with death. I'll never live it down."

Emil laughed earnestly at the end of his statement, tilting his head with his gentle smile that made Ratatosk's cheek grow warm. To avoid showing his blush Ratatosk jumped to his feet, confidently faking a haughty laughter and said, "O-of course! I was kidding about earlier. Aha…! What makes you think I would ever let you travel without me?"

The green-eyed took observation of Ratatosk's artificial laughter, but he shrugged it off and fully at ease Ratatosk would be coming along—and it would relieve his conscious if he prevented any possible riot from the short-tempered red-eyed blond. This was it: a subtle meaning that if worst came to worst, if an argument has crossed the line then just wait it out and let it go. Don't mention it, don't talk about it, erase the completely regrettable memory from mind. Emil brought his attention back to his sibling when he was informed about meting Richter, to which he gingerly spread around his excited vibes and Ratatosk will permit this one time for Emil to feel pleased with some other than him. Following a little behind from the older blond the memory of being in the white abyssal space sent a harsh shudder down his spine: the feeling of emptiness, distraught to find someone, and everything else he heard when he found Ratatosk. Only a part of him felt guilt for invading the boundaries of his sibling's inner thoughts. With further analysis of the situation the green-eyed blond still felt befuddled what Ratatosk implied. And a wary glance forward, Emil worriedly scanned any falter in Ratatosk's cocky grin – nothing of the sort happened.

Emil took off his glove; his curiosity proven right as he inspected the burns on his left hand. The static burned his flesh, but it was nothing a few days to several weeks could not cure. His fingertips, from the last experience, is something worth worrying about but the twinge of hurt came from the containment Ratatosk rested in. Everything is going so well as of now and he just did not want to ruin it…

Don't mention it, don't talk about, erase it.

Yeah, I think I'll do that, Emil inwardly reminded himself as he slipped on the glove and picks up his pace with Ratatosk.

A/N: Holy balls…thank you so much for the 1,000 hits! Now with this whole Emil/Ratatosk thing OUT OF THE WAY I could concentrate on more important things like Emil and Richter. And it took…five chapters to do so. Lol. Mostly because Ratatosk will be, well, there and not too much of a role until later. Might as well give him the attention he need till then. Didn't I say this before? o-o Anyway, thanks you guys for your endless support. :D Christ, really, I'm sorry Richter is totally lacking any scenes here. FAREWELL LUIN. 8D HELLO RICHTER AND EMIL GOODNESS. -squeals- And now I took my effing time to fix the breaks that went poof all of a sudden. Seriously. What the crap.