A/N: Here it is the next chater...I don't even know what to say to this. It's sad I can promise all of you that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing


He heard the whistle of air as the blade came down, almost inaudible over the roar of the crowd and intensity of Versailles music. The mop of blonde ducked a few seconds before the gleam of jade could connect with his head, but soon returned with even more energy. Kyo automatically swung his fist, smirking as the person grunted deep in their throat at, cringing at the vibrating pain in their chest.

He had been in far too many fights, been through too many fans to let his guard down and this person did not surprise him in the least. Although he had been able to sneak up on him.

Within in that second though, sharp teeth dug into his shoulder tearing not one of his stage screams, but one of pure terror and pain. Cold hands grabbed at his tattooed arms and twisted them behind his back, pushing him into the dust covered brick of the little unused room.

"Twisted little Kyo...are you really not afraid to die?"

Kyo's ears seemed to twitch at the voice, but the rushing water noise in his head was making him dizzy. Instead, he grabbed at the assailant's ankles, latching his teeth onto them and biting harshly, but to no avail. The person standing over him seemed to smirk mirthlessly as his crazed, dark eyes squinted, trying to focus.

The same cold hands grabbed him by his neck, dragging him to him to his feet. A smirk played over the person's face, pure malice dripping like poisonous honey. This man, only 5 "3 -"4 with the biggest voice the world of J-rock has ever heard, dared to be so smug about himself. Lying in interviews and the way he acts as if he isn't scared?

Kyo grabbed blindly as he vision finally blurred over as the person banged his skull against the brick, but still he fought. Like each and every day, he fought back to keep his place in this world. He dug his nails into their clothed arms, spat profanities that Satan himself would cringe from, but the person merely laughed. A giggle perhaps. A sound that held the very essence of pure insanity.

He was thrown to the floor, the wind knocked out him, dizzy and slightly disoriented. His assailant was on him in an instant, blade positioned and ready. The fool hadn't restrained him though. Kyo lashed out with his right arm and his fist connected with the other person's side, knocking him/her off balance enough for the Jrocker to shove them off. The next step was only logical; he went for the dagger. The attacker and the would be victim struggled for control, the jade dagger clutched in both sets of hands. It hits Kyo then that he never imagined he'd ever be in this situation; actually fighting for his life.

They roll about the dust covered floor, both unrelenting, knowing that the smallest mistake meant death for one, discovery for the other. A well placed knee to the stomach had the would be killer gasping for breath and rolling away from the shorter man. Kyo threw the knife, heard it clatter as it hit the floor some dozens of feet away. By then the person, had regain his breathe and was starring him down. The blonde's face twisted a scowl and he charged. Punches were thrown and blocked as they moved about the room, one hit Kyo square in the face; one of his own caught the nameless figure in the gut.

A roundhouse kick was aimed at his head. He dove sideswiping the figure, he back flipped landing with for too much grace and almost no noise. Kyo's mind was reeling. Who the FUCK was this guy he wondered. He saw the shadow turn his head, his gaze followed the attackers. They spotted it at the same time; the jade dagger, its blade glittering and brilliant in the dim lighting form the streetlight. Both the attacker and the target dove at the same time; Kyo wasn't fast enough. His assailant had his weapon back.

The killer struck, the dagger whistled through the air. Kyo blocked the strike, his arm catching the downward arc of the blade. He didn't see the kick coming from his left. There was shink of the blade, a slight glimmer from the street light in his muddled vision, and then a stabbing pain deep within his chest. And then, just like it was over, just like that everything was said and done.

Kyo had made a fatal mistake, had missed one of his killer's attacks; let his guard slip for just a second. That second was it took for the person to do him in. He felt the blade as it entered his chest cold and sleek, sharp and efficient; felt it go through him with a swiftness that was meant to be merciful, not vicious. The blood came next, sticky and warm, against his skin, pouring out both sides of the opened wound. Then he was being slowly, gently lowered to the floor, more blood pooled around him. It soaked his shirt and mixed with the dust.

His killer was standing over him.

He could feel the understanding in the nameless gaze on him, watching as the life slipped slowly from him.

"Suffer no more" it was little more than a whispered breath in his mind. It echoed in the room and in his soul.

Kyo's face relaxed, he smiled. It was ruefully sad and small.

It was happy.

The blonde, was for the first time, (since Dir~en~Grey went mainstream); truly happy. He didn't have to pretend anymore, because he wasn't ok. Oh the world knew his wasn't and yet it had no idea that he never had been. He wouldn't have to deal with any of it anymore; the rabid over obsessed fangirls, the long hours of practice, the staying up late to due to writer's block and the countless nights of insomnia.

He was tired; so, so tired. He was tired of the fame and fortune, the touring and public appearances; lying to cover the past no one could ever, ever know about.

He had been tired for so long now, too long and he knew somewhere in the deepest part of his subconscious that he has wanted this for just as long.

Kyo is relieved, so fucking relieved that someone took the weight off his shoulders and that he can rest now; because there is nothing that he ever has to worry about now or ever again.

And now he can feel the cold seeping in, the icy grip of death's arms embracing him. He is ready to die, more ready than he really wants or cares to admit to himself or anyone else. He looks up toward what he thinks is the direction of his killer's face and knows he is fading. He catches a glimpse of bright red eyes, glowing softly in the dim lighting back room, behind the stage as the concert honoring the death of one of Jrock's most influential artist continues on.

Kyo can feel the glowing crimson orbs and he can feel the life ebbing from him. His eyes are starting to close, he lets them. His strength is beginning to leave him, he is starting to feel detached from everything and dying isn't as bad as he thought it would be.

A sudden scream brings him back for a moment to earth for a few minutes, for a few precious minutes. He can just barely make out the voices of the people surrounding him; his band mates. He opens his eyes again and can see (dimly) Shinya's face above him, yet it is not Shinya he looks for. He seeks out glowing crimson and he finds them clinging to the half shadows far above their heads, like essence of something long since passed.

He smiles again, not the sad, rueful small smile from before, but a real smile. It is the realist smiles any of them has ever seen on their front man's face.

It is genuine and pure, like the rain that fell at Gakuto's funeral. He feels it then the joy that comes from smiling and actually meaning it. His chest rises again, in haling as if he means to breathe…

There is no exhale; only two words.

Then Kyo is gone and there is nothing that can be done now.


The figure above watches as the blondes' band mates find him, as Shinya screams and runs to him. The dirty blonde falls next to the other man, puts his head in his lap. He tries to get a response from him.

Any kind of response.

The others have rushed over as well.

Toshiya is holding the little blonde's hand and whispering desperate pleas for him "not to give up" and to "hang on, everything is going to ok" ...When he knows it won't.

Kaoru, his black hair spilling into his eyes, is trying and failing to stop the blood that is seeping out his friend. But…there is so much, too much and he knows it is too late; far, far too late.

He tries anyway.

The blood is soaking his pants and staining his hands. He feels like it's trying to suffocate him…it is. It's suffocating all of them with its sickeningly sweet copper smell.

Die goes (volunteers) to get help, it makes sense he is the fastest and he does not want to be witness to Kyo's death. He is crying but doesn't know it.

The wind going past him as he runs helps to dry the tears he will not be able to cry later.

Back in that little room above the stage, Shinya rests his head against Kyo's. The pretty man is talking to him now; still trying to extract some type of reaction out the smaller male and had, thus far, been unsuccessful.

So when Kyo's eyes open, a surge of hope shoots through him. Then he notices that he isn't looking at him, but rather past him. His lips, now pale, so very pale, move once, twice.

His breathing stops and he is gone.

Die still has not returned.

The room is cold, colder than when first they had found him.

It is silent with the death of a friend, a brother, an irreplaceable and important person in the trio's lives.

The three are still, so still they could have been carved from stone and quiet, so very quiet that it is unnatural and crying tears falling silently, heads bent eyes closed.

No one moves until Kaoru raises his head.

"What did he say?" it is low, hardly even a whisper and almost an exhale of breath.

Kyo no longer had breath.

" 'Thank you.' " His companion's look at him confused.

"He said 'Thank you'." Both replies are equally as hushed, as if talking any louder would break the somber, nightmare that had befallen them.

So, they sat puzzled and hurt, but the pain greatly outweighed the confusion and they stayed as they were.

All the while crimson eyes watched.