vilnius | get a taste in my mouth.

Sword training came long before Mugen did; he's achieved twelve percent synchro by the time he turns eight, but the sword is still too long, and he catches it on the ground. Theodore urges him "Yuu-kun, I know that you've pride as a swordsman at stake, but until you get a little older, you should probably stick to the illusions."

Kanda bristles, first at the use of his first name, then at Daisya's tone when he yells after him, "Yeah, Kanda! You probably won't grow any, so you might as well get used to the chop-and-hack method of swordfighti-"

Later, Kanda informs Theodore that Daisya's injuries were not, in fact, proof of his point; he'd achieved his goal perfectly.

Yuu doesn't squirm like his brother did at that age, his mother realizes contentedly. Her younger son, in spite of his temper, seems to be willing to at least tolerate her attentions, and she runs her fingers happily through his hair.

"Yuu-chan" she calls at him. He looks up at her through a heavy fringe of bangs; 'don't say my name for the sake of saying it!' is written all over the scowl on his face, but she ignores him and pushes his hair out of his eyes.

The cicadas are buzzing, and she thinks to herself quietly, shifting on the tatami - let us stay like this.

Kanda doesn't look up when Rinali runs into the library; he can tell it's her because of the clomping noise that her dark boots make. He scoots over on the bench to allow her room, and she takes it, leaning over the yellowed pages of the history he's reading.

"Regeneration curses?"

Her kanji is too good for Kanda's comfort, and he mutters embarrassed, skirting around his 'r's,

"I was looking into a thing or two. It's for the General. Don't worry about it."

She knows from the way his face closes off not to push the issue, and she puts her head on the table, closing her eyes.

When she wakes up, Kanda is in the stacks, putting his books away. His sweater dwarfs her - she assumes it must be a loan from Marie.

Daisya's jacket button is heavy in his pocket.

By his best estimates, Kanda figures that he has approximately five years left.

What he doesn't know is that he's grossly underestimated his original lifespan.

Hibari is starting to realize that for a worthless herbivore, Sawada Tsunayoshi might be interesting after all.

He's freakishly strong long before he starts to use his tonfa; when he does, it isn't a question of instruction or learning. They're an extension of his arm; heavier, harder, with more force, but still him.

Hibari's most dangerous weapon is always his bloodlust.

He didn't lose to Dino in the end, but neither did he beat him. His position in the Vongola family remains in question.

He isn't sure why he gave those herbivores the antidote during the final battle for the rings. When it occurs to him, he refuses to think about it.

He doesn't count Hibird as crowding because he's useful.

The Vongola family may well prove to be useful, as well.

He sometimes dreams of mismatched eyes, of shattering ribs, of the smell of cherry blossoms. There is a flash of cold fire, and then everything is calm.

The calm before the storm, the pause between a barrage of attacks, when blood trickles from cuts and he's breathing hard, heart pounding like it it wants out of his ribcage - these are the moments that Hibari lives for.

Mello has actually beaten Near once. On one test, in statistics, the grades were based on a faulty question; Mello, although he was marked wrong, actually gave an answer that was more accurate.

Correcting the teacher would require speaking up, though, and Mello isn't interested in allowing Near to get a word in edgewise.

Near hasn't forgotten, though.

When Mello says "You know we can't work together. Let Near have it, he's always done better," Near wants to speak up, to correct him. When the other boy storms out of the room, the pieces of Near's puzzle aren't fitting together like they should. This isn't right, he knows, I am not L.

We could be, though.

After the Kira case is closed, Near looks over the file. He's certain - maybe always has been - that Amane Misa struck the deal, got the Death God's eyes.

He chews on his chocolate bar and wonders, briefly, what it is like to be a sacrifice for a greater cause.

Near only meets L a handful of times - never on his birthday or Christmas, always on accident. One time L brings a chocolate cake, and he and Near watch each other thoughtfully over their knees as Matt and Mello wrestle for the largest slice. Mello's eyes flick back and forth between the two of them almost jealously, paying little attention to Matt in spite of the boot in his gut.

L isn't the first one to call him 'N', Mello is, but Near holds it to himself in the same way that he clutches at the Japanese robot dolls, the Italian puzzles, the American legos that he receives on the Christmases that L remembers.

L is the first thing Near ever wants for himself.

It's only when he realizes that the new L is Kira that Near becomes deadly serious.

Blue sun. Black sky. Everything that used to be right is wrong and everyone that she used to love jams needles into her skull.

What do you see?

The day that they finally break her mind, all that River sees is Simon.

"Could've been a ballerina," thinks River to herself. Maybe it's out loud, maybe it's in her head. She's alone, technically, though Kaylee's thoughts come drifting in from up above. Shot three men without looking at them. Monster, monster, monster rattles in her head - she wants not to hold it against Kaylee but she claws at her face anyway. No better than a gorram Reaver some days follows it - maybe Jayne, maybe not-the-Shepard, who knows? Everyone's words are ugly and ricochet off her like asteroids.

From two rooms over, my sister, my beautiful sister filters in; River isn't sure if it's thought with gratitude or regret, but it's these words that start her shrieking.

She is breaking into a million pieces. She wishes he would let her.

Serenity is escape in one way or another for the whole crew. For Kaylee, she's adventure. For Mal and Zoe, she's the war they lost.

Lying on the floor of the cargo hold, her face against the cool metal, River can't hear anything but herself.

She's a little more full than most girls her age, but she welcomes the release anyway.

Now that the preacher-man is gone, she could probably tell the captain what he's always wanted to know.

She keeps Book's secrets close, though. They are heavy and they hurt, but they aren't hers to tell.

She learns quickly to kill, because every time she does so her mind gets a little quieter.

Akito's progression is normal at first. He's a smart, agile little boy, but he's small; the changes in speed are hard on him and he's buffeted everywhere on windy days. He can see his older brother's hands clenching impatiently around his lighter as he lights up his fourth cigarette that afternoon. Akito presses his lips tightly together and tries the wall one more time. He makes it to the top but slips on the dismount; he grabs at a fire escape ladder in a panic, and it's enough to break his fall.

A month or two later his brother takes him in to get his tonsils removed. His throat hasn't been hurting but his brother always knows more about his body than he himself does, knows what muscles need what kind of exercises, presses slabs of raw meat to Akito's aching bruises. When they put him under he smiles sweetly at Kaito, waves weakly as he's going under. "Goodnight, onii-chan. See you when I wake up."

When Akito is lucid again, months have passed. His brother doesn't look at him, stares at the gun he's cleaning out, says, "You had a bad reaction to the drugs. You've been pretty out of it. Shut the fuck up or I'm not buying you a milkshake."

The next time he puts on AT, everything is different. His reaction time is faster, his balance is better. Walls that almost killed him before are like walking up a low incline. His first chase is after a seasoned AT veteran, but Akito catches him in no time whatsoever. He imagines as he's planting his AT in the man's gut that this is the old him that he's destroying, and the tears and snot and saliva that leak out of his eyes, nose, mouth - they make Akito laugh childishly. That night Kaito takes him out for yakiniku.

"I don't want to do this anymore," he whispers. He's alone in the trailer and no one can hear him, but he whispers it over and over again like a prayer. He stares at his hands, at the dried blood under his nails, and his voice gets louder and louder. He scratches helplessly at the bars of the cage until his own blood mixes with the old blood. Sobbing, he sinks into the bottom of his cage, clutching at himself. He's injured his eye earlier in the day, and the tears welling up in his right eye are stopped by the eyepatch over it.

This is when Agito is born.

Agito doesn't like Akira particularly when they first meet; it's only after their first run, when Akira pushes ahead of him and takes them all on on his own. His attack style is different from Agito's, all power and choppy hits as opposed to gliding, darting, ripping, but Agito catches himself admiring it anyway. It's beautiful, in a simplistic, terrifying way.

"Don't steal my fucking prey!" he growls in the break room afterward.

"Haven't you ever heard the saying, Agito?" Akira has been calling after him familiarly since they first met, but Agito can't bring himself to care. "He who stands around will have his food eaten."

He grins, and Agito matches it in spite of himself. This is the first person he's ever really liked. The next night he and Akira go after a crowd of fourteen. He only allows Akira three of them.

One night on a stakeout Agito looks over at Akira, who is half-asleep in spite of all the energy drinks he's been drinking, and realizes suddenly that for the first time since his birth he actively doesn't want to disappear.

When he wakes up in a hospital bed after the battle for the fang regalia and finds his ribs broken and his feet bare, it's only Akito's desperate pleading (please Agito, no, you promised you'd fight for me, please don't leave me alone again) that convinces him not to.

Ikki is always in motion, so he gives the impression that he'd generate a lot of heat. The truth is that his hand is cool on Akito's head. He's like a breeze without meaning to be, a cool breath of air on Akito's face. Sometimes when Akito crawls into Ikki's bed he entwines his fingers with the other boy's, presses them to his flushed cheeks.

Normally Agito is quick to warn Akito not to attach himself to dangerous people, but at these times he's silent. There's something like a small sigh at the back of Akito's mind, one he matches instinctively.

They both know that this can't last forever. Agito worries that Akito won't be able to pull himself together when they have to leave. Akito doesn't think about it. When he sleeps, he dreams of blue skies.

He first hears about the Shoujou family marriage practices from one of Mitsuiro's cousins. He doesn't believe them, so he goes to ask her himself. When she confirms the information, he smiles brightly, says, "Oh... I suppose it wasn't a lie, then." He leaves the family compound, walks to the train station. He's riding the last train home, but they live in the countryside and there's only a few old ladies in the car with him.

He's too young to understand why his chest tightens the way it did remembering Mitsuiro's characteristically blank-faced "no, it's true", or why the tears pour uncontrollably out of his eyes. It's the middle of winter and he pulls his coat tightly around him. He tries to keep his sobs quiet so that the other people on the train won't notice.

Hirohiko's first kiss is with a girl in his neighborhood. Years later, thinking back on her, he can't remember what she looked like, but she smelled like her old running shoes - they didn't smell bad, really, but she was on the track team and really loved to run, and even in high school that smell of old cloth and rubber brings back memories of her. They were friends, sort of, and they used to walk home together from school sometimes. A few days after he'd found out about Mitsuiro's family, this girl, she was having some trouble with the other girls, and they'd thrown her bookbag over a bridge into a drainage ditch. He came up on her in a lonely mood, and she looked like he felt, so he waded into the water after her to help her gather her things. It was oppressively hot, and she was thanking him, and he saw that her face was dirty except for where she'd been crying, and he thought to himself that he'd never kissed anyone and wondered what it was like. So he did.

He told her many years later about Mitsuiro, because he thought that she deserved to understand his behavior. He sometimes catches himself thinking of her and hoping that she did.

Hirohiko's favorite color is green. He sometimes misses it in spite of himself.

Hirohiko is still learning to master everything that his ancestors have learned over the years; he's one of the most gifted heads of family, but there's hundreds of years worth of skills to learn. He doesn't tell anyone what he's learned, not even Mitsuiro, because the more he keeps people guessing, the more power he has.

"You know", he remarks to Mitsuiro, leaning backward in his chair. It looks like he's looking at her upside-down, although obviously he isn't looking at all, "today, during that fight with Natsume Aya... I found myself wishing I could see her face. I wonder what she looks like. Is she pretty?"

Mistuiro's expression doesn't change, and he can't smell any irritation from her, but she stands up and makes to move away from the couch. "Normal." He reaches out, grabs the edge of her jacket.

"Naa, Mitsuiro... just now, did I make you jealous?" She doesn't respond, but he grins brightly enough to light up the whole room.

Later, when they are alone, he rests his head on his arms, directs his sightless eyes toward her face. "You don't need to be, you know."

"I'm not."

"I know." He smiles slightly, his expression faraway. "But I just wanted to say it. That having Mitsuiro as the last thing I ever saw... I've never been sad about it, even for a second."

get a taste in my mouth.

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entrée

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