“Put it in me,” Yuki said confidently.

“You’re sure, now?” Shuichi asked, concerned.

“I can almost taste it already, now put that long, wet, slippery thing in me!”

“OK… will I just leave it in or go back and forth? It might fall out; it’s so cold and slippery.”

“Dammit, Shuichi, put it in my mouth, you damn brat!”

Shuichi sighed as he slipped the strawberry-flavoured ice lolly into Yuki’s mouth, wondering why Yuki needed to make such a fuss about such trivial little things. The truth was it made Yuki feel in control, that he owned Shuichi, and that made him feel good.

Shuichi wondered if he should ask for some, but the result would probably be a force-feeding of poison.


***


“Touma Seguchi?”

A pair of police officers briskly made their way into the N-G president’s office, not bothering to knock.

Touma looked up from his Bad Luck renewal contracts and was extremely surprised to see the two serious-looking men looming over his desk, and suddenly annoyance shot through his body. “What do you want? I’m rather busy, so if you could please come back some other time. If this is about the American with the gun, then…”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us,” one of the men said sharply, quickly handcuffing Touma before he could respond.

“Why?! What for?” Touma screamed, digging his shoulder into the taller officer’s chest, winding him and forcing him to the floor. While Touma was still taking in what he had just done, the other officer pinned him to the ground and rested his foot on the back of Touma’s head, specking his platinum-blonde hair with dirt.

“Attempted homicide,” the policeman snarled in his ear.


***


“Yuki, hold my hand!”

“No!”

“Why not?” Shuichi wailed.

“Because it’s embarrassing!” Yuki huffed, “We don’t have to go everywhere holding hands!”

“But that’s what lovers do! How do your books sell so well if you don’t even know that?”

Yuki sighed. “Anything to shut you up,” he muttered, taking Shuichi’s hand in his, their fingers intertwining.

Shuichi smiled contentedly as the two of them crossed the road. Once they had made it to the other side of the pavement, Yuki asked him, “Did I really have to come with you just to do some shopping?”

“But Yuki, I don’t know what kind of milk Nyanko-taro likes!” At this, Yuki drew a katana from inside his jacket.

“Say that again, and this’ll be in your gut!”


***


The cell door closed. Touma was alone. What had he done to deserve this? Attempted homicide…he had no idea. Then, in the back of his head, something clicked. And he knew why he was here. That night. Almost a year-and-a-half ago. The squealing tires of the black BMW. And the dark, scrunched-up figure surrounded by a pool of blood lying beneath it.

Taki Aizawa.