Reven had to shove hard at the door to the room - it had swelled in the last rain and stuck in its frame. He hadn't been here for some months, and there were no other tenants except a few spiders.

Lain wasn't much help to him - he was still sleepy from the journey and was less than co-operative with the blindfold on. Reven had hesitated to do it to him - as he'd slipped the soft scarf round Lain's neck, he'd felt the boy's body tense up and his fists clench as if he'd resist Reven.

But Reven had been taught well to consider security and secrecy at all times, and even though he'd shared his town apartment with Lain, this was a different issue. To say nothing of the developments over the last day or so that had shown him a side of Lain that he had yet to evaluate properly. The boy had wanted to come with him - he had to accept the rules. Reven would have done it to anyone he brought here.

One last push and the door wrenched ajar. A smell of damp disuse wafted out of the room inside, but it looked clear enough, and no animals scattered for cover. The early morning light filtered through a couple of windows, covered with dusty blinds.

Reven turned back to look at Lain, who leant sulkily against the wall beside the door. He put out a hand to the boy's face, and watched how it nuzzled against his palm, although the scowl on Lain's lips implied that he was still angry with his treatment.

Reven ran his gaze over Lain, knowing he couldn't be seen. It was a rare chance to view someone awake without them knowing. Despite the sleepy clumsiness of his limbs - and maybe there was some shock in there, too - Lain was already looking taller and older.

More confident.

His tone with Reven had been bolder, though he seemed to have eased off the aggression of earlier. But neither was he the compliant boy of before.

Reven felt a certain excitement at the vivid conflict inside the boy - and the way he interacted with him. He couldn't forget the ferocity and determination of Lain's taking of him - nor his willing participation. At the same time, the blindfold made him look sensually vulnerable; Reven let his fingers trail a little too long against his skin.

"Come inside," he said, softly. "I don't know what state it's in, but no-one has ever come here before except me. It will be secure for a while."

He remained leaning against the wall, trying to make it look as though he wasn't ready to head butt Reven in the mouth. Or at least, where he thought Reven's mouth was; he couldn't pinpoint it exactly with only his hearing.

Being this vulnerable... being this scared when he refused to admit it to himself; he didn't like it. The touches on his face weren't helping.

They sent tremors up and down his spine as memories pushed at him, demanded to be recognized and mulled over. These exact touches on his face, and the soft voice of Aniki, then the nuzzle of warm lips to his throat and a soothing voice telling him it would be ok...

He shivered once more and snarled at Reven, turning his face away from the caresses.
"Can I take this off yet?" he asked quickly, remaining pressed to the wall and unable to move. Things smelled old and unused like the closet...

He shivered once more as he felt hands press to his shoulders, pushing him against the wall as though he wasn't already pressing himself against it with all of his will. Lain shook his head slightly.

No! Stop it! This isn't the time to be doing that! I'm going to lose it... lose the control...!

He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off as lips pressed to his and a tongue filled his mouth. A soft whimper escaped Lain as he felt Reven's thigh push between his legs, and the tongue searched his mouth aggressively.

Stop... his mind begged in barely a whisper, as the kiss broke and Reven began to kiss and suck at Lain's neck hungrily.

The boy whimpered softly and released a moan, his muscles relaxing and his state of mind lost, once more the pliant creature that would follow Reven to the ends of the Earth.

It was the gentle, uncertain shake of Lain's head - the way his brow frowned over the top of the scarf - the way his fingers clenched and unclenched as if to seek out Reven's body. It all ignited a desire in Reven that was irresistible! He didn't want to distress the boy - but he did want to touch him. Like this...

The first kiss he took was very sweet - Lain's mouth opened almost nervously, his head shifting to try to pinpoint where Reven would approach next. He seemed to want to protest - but then his whimper was low and agonising, and the ache flared in response in Reven's groin.

He took more taste of him, running his tongue down Lain's neck and loving the way the boy's neck arched up, baring itself to him. The soft fabric of the blindfold brushed against his cheek as he moved his head to nuzzle at Lain's throat.

"Lain..." he murmured, and was startled at how the boy shivered under him. Almost as if it had been a surprise to Lain, to hear Reven's voice... Lain's response seemed to become more enthusiastic then, and his hips rubbed back against Reven's knee, their groins filling with heat and the rush of blood that signalled a growing lust.

"Let's take this inside," Reven murmured, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded.

Fuck, but he wanted to push the boy to the floor here on the landing and just take him! - but he had no idea yet who else might be around this block; the tenants moved around like wisps of night mist and sometimes smelling just as foetid.

He took hold of Lain's shoulders and rolled him gently round through the apartment doorway, his lips still at his mouth and neck, his breath warm against the chill of the neglected room.

His hand strayed gently to the boy's neck - teased at the fastening of the blindfold, as if to release it. Or to tighten it more securely.

He felt Lain catch his breath, alert to his every move.

The boy parted his lips to protest this continued torture as he was led about blindly, until his knees came in contact with something that was either a mattress or the edge of a couch. He was pushed down onto it, onto his back, and found it to be a mattress, bare and cold. Lain shivered more visibly now as Reven crawled on top of him, the kisses incessant and insistent.

He whimpered again, softer this time, losing his will to protest. He was supposed to comfort Reven, and give him whatever was asked of Lain. No matter what the cost, he'd sworn to himself. He'd do it.

So, even though he was terrified, horrified and swimming in memories, he kept reminding himself that this was Reven on top of him. The aggressive hands wandering over his body were Reven's, and the teeth nipping at his skin were Reven's, too.

"Ahh, nnh..." the boy murmured, his hands frozen at his sides, unable to lift and push the blindfold away. Part of his mind kept thinking that his wrists too were bound, behind his back or above his head, though he knew that wasn't the case at all. He was completely paralyzed by both his will to honour Reven's silent request, and the memories this was stirring up rather frightfully.

The belts around his waist were undone by deft, assassin's fingers, and the folds of his loose pants were pulled apart quickly, exposing to the air the erection that had been forced to attention by Reven's leg moments before. When one calloused hand closed around the shaft and Lain felt the hot, moist breath of a mouth hovering just above the head of his erection, he cried out loud and desperate, a wordless noise full of anxiousness and fear.

But it was all so very exciting – so very stimulating! Lain whimpered and wriggled under his hands, and every movement grazed against his over-sensitive nerves. Reven had no care for whatever furnishings had been left in the room – he just stumbled them both to the bedstead and pushed Lain down on to it. The mattress was bare, and cold on his knees, but luckily not damp. Reven wasn’t sure whether he would have cared at this point, though he had no deliberate wish to spoil the pleasure for either of them. He was just damned impatient – he just wanted Lain beneath him; under him; legs opening wide to him. And now!

He could hear his own breath, panting softly. It was extraordinarily tantalising, the blindfold keeping Lain’s wide, liquid eyes hidden from him – the implication of vulnerability – the making of Lain into a blind, captive victim. Reven felt his heart hammering against his ribs – his cock fierce and swollen against his pants. The desire awakening in him was a coil of heat, building up inside, racing to burst away from his fragile control and to devour its prey.

He kissed and lapped at the soft skin of the boy’s face and neck and was thrilled as the brunette head tossed jerkily from side to side, following his caresses, unable to see where the next assault would come from, but obviously accepting them. The cloth of the blindfold was damp from Reven’s touches and a thin sheen of sweat on Lain’s own brow. Reven pulled at the boy’s clothes carelessly, eager to touch him, to lick him, to suck him! He had to be satisfied, and Lain was always willing for that. The blind submission was nothing but an additional thrill for them both…

He didn’t know when he realised that the stakes of this game were more than just passion, at least for Lain – maybe it was in the tone of the boy’s cry, as he started to go down on him. It was a cry of desire and pleasure, but choked in with it was something more desperate – more frightened. The warning was also in the way that Lain was holding his body. Even as his hips stretched up out of his loosened pants - his cock begging for Reven’s touch, straining to bury itself into the wet sanctuary of Reven’s mouth – Lain’s arms were strangely rigid, as if something bound him, and his neck bared itself in a hopeless gesture. Whatever or wherever Lain’s mind was, Reven couldn’t mistake the smell of pure fear.

“Lain,” he gasped. His hand was tight around Lain’s cock and it pulsed angrily against his palm. God, he wanted more of this! “Lain, do you hear me?” Do you even know it’s me? Reven shook his head, angry and frustrated and still impatient, but he’d not force the boy to suffer more than he deserved…

His hands lifted immediately to the blindfold, and he pulled at it, near tears, forgetting momentarily how to use his fingers and fumbling with the cloth before finally pushing it away from his eyes and off his head, throwing it as far away as possible, on the floor across the room. Reven was looking at him with a curious, hesitant expression now, as Lain sat up on his elbows and tried to catch his breath, feeling his heart pounding in his ribcage.

He put his left hand over his heart and took a slow, calming breath, relaxing and staring back at Reven, assuring himself that the man resting between his legs had onyx hair and dark oak eyes, not chestnut hair and cobalt eyes. Lain shivered one last time and lay back once more, his body relaxing as he stared up at the ceiling of the apartment, forgetting entirely about surveying the place over and taking note of windows and doors and all possible routes of entry or escape.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to; sorry," he mumbled, a slight blush crossing his cheeks as Reven continued to stare. He smiled, the customary warm and gentle Lain smile, and looked at the assassin kindly. "Please continue," he finished in a meek tone, as though nothing had just happened.

Shit… What had happened there? Reven searched the boy’s face but the horror had passed – or had he imagined it? He could hear his heart beating as if it were outside his body; his body demanded satisfaction of its need, but his mind still kept it reined back. Though he knew he couldn’t maintain it - not for long. The passion was too hot

He saw the focus return to Lain’s eyes; the wide softness turn back up to him. Whatever Lain had been seeing and experiencing behind his blindfold, it was Reven he was acknowledging now.

“Lain,” he gasped again, but this time it was a groan. This time he fell on the boy, his mouth plunging deeply down on to him, his body now taking control again. He felt the shaft swell and fill his mouth, tugging at his lips as they gripped at it. He felt Lain’s hands grab at his hair, as he slid his mouth up and down. He had no time for gentle, teasing caresses. He needed completion and he needed the boy’s hands and body back on him -

Lain’s shriek of climax ran through his slim body like a shudder, and his seed spilled out into Reven’s mouth, hot and thick, lubricating the frenzied movements of his mouth even more. Reven swallowed, moaning, every sense heightened. He slid his mouth away, panting more heavily now. “Turn over!” he growled, his voice hoarse with urgency. He didn’t wait for the boy to obey – he took hold of Lain’s shaking hips and rolled him over on to his belly. The pants were wrenched down further, to his knees – Reven pulled the taut hips up into the air and his thumb rubbed eagerly at the exposed entrance. Lain gave a soft whimper and Reven felt the blood rush to his head. He licked swiftly at his fingers, stroking their dampness over the hole, preparing it cursorily, impatiently

His free hand pulled his own pants open and he sighed with the relief of releasing his painful erection. It was damp with its own eagerness and it pressed hungrily into Lain. Reven prised the boy’s buttocks open, watching as he thrust into him, watching his possession. His head still swam – his skin was still hot with need, and the climax came swiftly and heavily, almost faster than he could bear. He groaned – his body sagged over on to Lain’s back, and they both fell forward on to the creaking mattress.

The boy shivered in Reven’s grasp, though he was too warm for comfort. The assassin was heavy on top of him, and it was a little hard to breathe, but Lain didn’t want to move. He wasn’t completely sure how much he could move, anyhow.

His breathing was shallow and soft; his eyelids hooded as he kept his cheek pressed to the mattress and felt Reven’s face against his back.

He was wondering where Sphynx was… if he was ok. Lain was curious as to whether or not their secret code word had been volunteered, or coaxed out of him in less than pleasant circumstances.

The brunette stared at the one window in this room silently. Could Sphynx climb this high to sneak into a building? He’d only seen the feline grace of his blonde partner when breaking and entering a few times in their partnership. It was enough for Lain to be leery at best.

Just what sort of game was this Sphynx was playing? And was Lain a pawn, or a prize Royal Piece to be sought after? Was the blonde on his side at all? Was this a new game of life and death that Lain had no clue about?

The rules were changing too quickly. He was lost on the playing field with no one to guide him. A knight with no shield…

“Lain,” Reven’s voice murmured in the middle of the boy’s thoughts, interrupting them and reminding him.

This wasn’t just a game of Lain and Sphynx any more; Lain had drawn Reven into the match, and still hadn’t drawn clear lines himself for whose side he wanted to be on, Reven or Sphynx.

Maybe Lain was the one being unfair here. Maybe he was the one pushing this game on further and making the pieces fall under his hand! Maybe he was forcing these opposing black and white souls to collide on the battlefield!

Lain paled and sat up.

This was his fault, and he was just a knight in a chess game of men. What good could he do here? In the end, one of the kings would have to fall.

Black or white, Sphynx or Reven.

The boy shook his head sadly. “I don’t know the rules any more,” he whispered, leaning towards Reven and burying his face in the man’s neck. “I want both to win. I want both!”

What a childish thought, part of him barked angrily, in the back of his mind. Only you, Lain, could ever demand to have both sides of an opposing battle win. And naturally, you’re the cause and the spoils of the war. You set the playing field and rose the stakes, then cry out that you don't want to see what happens next. A child, a coward.

Cobalt eyes drifted over to Reven’s as Lain finally pulled away from the embrace and bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. “I’ll upturn the board then,” he said with clear conviction, an attempt at firmness lacing his tone. “Then nobody can win, and I can have the pieces I want.”

Reven gathered the slender body in against him, still breathing heavily from his climax.

The sex had been fierce - it had been exhilarating! He wasn't too sure what Lain was talking about now - the boy seemed calm, but his words could so often be disturbing. He said he wanted 'both' - what did he mean? Both lives? Both chances? Both lovers?

Reven was no fool.

The whole scene in the apartment had been somehow provoked by Sphynx, or Lain had told him as much. Sphynx had betrayed them - Sphynx had allowed his persona to be used to get to both Lain and Reven. And yet he still had some hold over Lain - willing or otherwise.

He saw Lain's eyes flickering over this new room - it was fairly bleak; fairly grim. Reven smiled wryly to himself - would Lain have accompanied him home that first time if it had been to this place?

But that was the lure of this place - it was sordid, it was amongst places that no-one would go unless they had business of the more pressing kind. No-one would find them without making a serious effort - and that way, he would know their true intent.

"Lain..." He wondered for the thousandth time, what went through the blonde's vivid mind. "How does this place feel to you? Can you feel any danger?" Lain's eyes narrowed, and his eyes flashed with some pride at Reven's question of him.

"No. Not at the moment," came the whisper in reply.

Reven nodded, satisfied for the time being. He levered himself up from the mattress, letting Lain sit back on his own. "I'll go for food and supplies," he said. "I have to arrange some money transfers - close off some trails that lead back to the apartment. That base will be taken out of the equation for a while. And I have some people to see who should know more than I do about this organisation. Their enemies; their allies."

He saw the flicker of wariness in Lain's eyes, and knew that his barbed comment hadn't been lost on the boy.

He turned back abruptly and leant over Lain, putting a gentle hand to his chin and tilting his face up. "I know you can fight, Lain. I've seen a side to you that you hide well from other people. Understand that I'm not scared of it - but I think that you might be, one day, unless you draw it in under your full control. If you want to learn to use it to advantage - to face this threat alongside me - you must be prepared to fight again. With whatever it takes. I won't ask it of you if you don't feel you can cope."

If your loyalties are too divided, he thought to himself, but had no appetite to spell it out to the boy. "But if you are with me, I'll treat you as I would a partner. We'll need to be a support to each other. We cannot afford to let each other down." He ran a fingertip down Lain's throat, deliberately provocatively.

The boy was delicious - and had quite captured his attentions. It was a strange feeling for Reven to cope with. But would he now be something more?

Prepared to fight. Support to each other. Can't afford to let each other down...

Lain shivered as Reven's finger slid down his throat.

Those words were eerily familiar. Sphynx had said them to him when the blonde had picked him up on the street. Had caressed his cheek and whispered about partnerships in his ear while sliding a hand down the front of his pants and pressing him up against the wall, warming him in the cold winter night.

"I..." he murmured, looking up at Reven and trying to compare and contrast the assassin and his blonde lover. "I want..."

Sphynx's lips at his throat. Reven's lips at his throat.

Sphynx's body pressed to his back, embracing him and kissing his cheek lovingly.

Reven's body above him, thrusting into him, murmuring words of passion.

Sphynx, Reven, Sphynx, Reven!

Lain made a frustrated mewl, and then frowned adamantly. "Teach me, train me," he said with a firm nod, looking up at Reven with a seriousness that drew on strength he didn't know he had. "I want to learn, and I want you to show me. I want to be here with you. I'll be..." he faltered slightly, the weaker side of Lain within protesting loudly that this declaration shouldn't be made so easily. "I want to be your partner, Reven."

Reven searched Lain's eyes - they were like liquid jewels, glinting with the early light from the window, wide with earnest concentration. The boy certainly seemed sincere.

Reven had seen the way he handled himself with a gun, and the knives. When provoked, he was sure and steady, with a good eye, and fast reflexes. But he had to decide whether he had the stomach for it - whether he could turn the aggression into a tool, rather than uncontrolled hysteria. Reven could help him with that - if he chose to take his help.

Reven belted up his pants again and stood one last time at the doorway. "Don't go out - and don't let anyone know you're here, if you hear any other movement in the building. I'll call when I return - I'll let you know it's me." He looked into Lain's eyes and saw the gentle devotion that so often unsettled him. "I'll say it's me - I'll use a code word, say. Prince. Yeah. That'll be my sign."

It was a memory of days long gone - of before he was even drawn into the world of the street; from when he'd been just a boy himself. He thought that Lain might have used it himself, once. Reven flushed at the stupid game he was playing - but he thought that Lain would tolerate it more.

The boy's mind flowed far more freely and fantastically than his own.

He turned abruptly - he had to rely on Lain obeying him. If Lain wanted to be with him, he had an obligation in return. He wouldn't look back and give the impression that he didn't trust the boy.

He wouldn't do that.

He watched Reven leave, and remained sitting on the bed, cross-legged and pants still undone. Lain rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands as the door closed and there was silence in the rickety apartment.

What is Sphynx doing right now? Is he alright?

He didn't know what he'd do if Sphynx wasn't alright.

Which made him question-- how tolerant of his relationship with Sphynx was Reven willing to be? He knew the agreement he'd just made, the declaration of partnership with Reven, meant he'd be lessening his time with Sphynx from then on.

Did it mean he had to forsake the blonde forever?

Lain couldn't do that. He didn't have it in his heart to leave the man that he loved and who loved him, no matter how difficult things had been in the past. And the brunette still couldn't accept that Sphynx might have been setting Lain up for death at the hand of the mobsters after Reven because of the restaurant.

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Partner to Reven. That's what he was now.

But still... he had to see Sphynx. He had to. They needed to talk, alone.

Reven had just told him to sit still, be quiet, and absolutely not to leave the apartment.

The boy chewed his lower lip raw as he lifted his head and stared out the window at the city.

Where was Sphynx?

Where was Reven?

He hated being alone; it was when the darker, colder side of himself could shine through. When nobody was around for Lain to attach himself to and devote himself, he had the time to think about his own needs and survival.

Sphynx has never loved you as you imagined him to. You've been fooling yourself into believing the way he uses you is the love you're seeking. And now, you're doing the same thing with Reven. They both just want to use you; they both see you as a pretty body to fuck. Sphynx wanted you because you entertained him and helped him earn money. You survived well together.

Reven wants you because you're convenient; you'll comfort him and let him fuck you and now you've agreed to help him take people's lives.

You're appreciated but expendable.

All your efforts-- all your love isn't really being returned. All the care and sympathy and thought you have for everyone in your life is just seen as something cute, a whim...

You're a pawn.

A mindless, convenient pawn others will play with in order to get their own goals achieved.

"No!" Lain whimpered, fisting his hands and looking away from the window. He wanted to say it wasn't true.

But there wasn't really any point in arguing; it was, after all, his own reasoning talking to him. And he knew it was right. He'd always known.

But they love me. Aniki loves me. Sphynx loves me. Reven... I want to take care of Reven. Even if he doesn't love me, I want to give him the love that he deserves! I'll be the bigger force, the 'Aniki' to Reven. I want to comfort him and make his pain go away.

I'll make everyone's pain go away, in any way I can.

Even if Sphynx just wants to use me. Even if Reven asks things of me I don't want to give.

I'll be strong, and I'll be pure.

He clenched his jaw tight and nodded, pushing away the return arguments his darker side was providing.

His mind was made up, and nothing would change it.

Reven had been away longer than he'd hoped. A couple of the contacts he used had been out of town - he'd needed to wait for the bank to open to get access to some of his accounts and belongings. But he brought food for them and bedding, and changes of clothes.

They'd eat and then he'd plan a brief programme for Lain, just to familiarise him with weapons, with self defence. Some other skills - surveillance, infiltration, communication.

Develop a fitness routine, just some weights and some presses, start to build up the boy's strength and muscles. He'd also brought things to wash with, though he had no desire to use the bath in the alcove beside their room without giving it a damned good clean first...

Their room. That's what he'd thought.

He shivered at the familiarity he was slipping into; grinned ruefully at both the phrase and himself. And now he stood outside the door again, having eased the car through the city's back streets, parked it in a different place altogether, and darted back up to where Lain was hiding out. He doubted that the boy would have heard him, and he'd been able to establish that the building was pretty much deserted, except for a couple of comatose derelicts in the shadow of the entrance hall. He lifted a hand to open the door, then paused. He mustn't scare Lain - they had an arrangement, didn't they?

Fuck, he thought, wryly. He felt a fool, now. "It's me," he said, softly. "Prince."


He'd spent hours arguing back and forth with himself.

Worrying, hating, loving, fearing. Making decisions, trying to stand firm on them, arguing himself out of them, reaffirming the decisions once more.

He'd cried twice.

His cheeks were still wet with tears now, when he heard the words.

Lain made a short squeak, his head tilted to the side and his eyes wide with madness.

I hate being alone. I hate being alone. I hate being alone. It's me, Prince.

I'm not alone any more! Reven's here!

He sat up and tried to get off the bed, scrambling forward with his legs still crossed and numb hours ago. Lain fell face-first on the floor, cutting open his forehead a little but not caring, fumbling to his feet and hurrying to the door, pulling it open quickly.

"Reven!" he gasped out, his madness fading as he stared desperately at the man.

Reven stared, startled. Lain looked dishevelled - there was even a cut on his head! What the hell -? But there was a smile on the boy's face - there didn't seem to be any danger.

Reven stood with the bags of supplies in his arms and ran his eyes up and down the body in front of him. Lain was shaking one of his feet, like he was shaking out pins and needles. "Did you fall asleep?" he asked, walking in past Lain and putting the bags on the bed. "I know I was longer than I expected, but I got back as soon as I could." There was something prickling at the back of his neck again - he knew there was no enemy nearby, and Lain was safe.

But there were the tracks of grubby tears on the boy's face - and there was something in the vibration of the air that nagged at him. As if he sensed a disturbance in Lain himself - as if there was some conflict that Reven had not been party to.

Hell, he thought, it's Lain that's meant to be the one with the sixth sense or whatever it is! Not me...

"Eat," he said, pulling out bread and meats. Lain was close, at his side, as if he needed the reassurance of Reven's presence. Reven wanted to reach out and brush away at the graze on his forehead - to caress him. He sighed.

Lain was a mystery to him. He admitted it. But then when had he ever professed to be good at understanding people?

"Then put on the sweat pants in that bag and we'll warm up to exercise."

Food had been prepared quickly, with Lain helping, and never more than an arm's length away from the assassin. When they'd eaten, he'd sat directly beside the man, so that their legs were touching.

Then, Reven had asked to see what Lain could do with his body as far as agility, and had been impressed with the show he got. The boy could walk around on his hands easily, balance himself on one hand, or on one foot when up high, on just his toes. He could do flips and cartwheels and was flexible because of all the dancing and entertaining he did, and could hold up his own body weight with either his legs or arms for ages at a time.

But when it had come to lifting weights, Lain was sad to disappoint Reven. The boy couldn't lift much, nor for long.

Finally Reven had given up on the weightlifting routine, and instructed Lain to strip down to just the pants he'd given the boy. The brunette had obeyed, and followed his partner into one of the empty rooms, just a bare wooden floor and nothing else.

"And finally, we're going to spar. I want to see what you know, hand-to-hand," Reven said calmly, standing before Lain. "I know you don't like fighting, but this isn't a choice."

The boy's gaze immediately dropped to the ground, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. "I... I don't want to fight you," he muttered.

"What?" the assassin had asked shortly.

Lain shook his head. "I don't want to fight yo--" he began, looking up at Reven.

The hand that cracked across his face was unexpected; Lain fell back on his bum, staring up at the man that had smacked him. His eyes went wide as Reven stepped closer to him and stared down at him.