#zero fic

He chose not to answer. Instead, he asked a question of his own. “What do you think?”

Parvier gaped at him, his eyes wide with panic. Then he turned and bolted, racing down the dark street as fast as he could go. Eldwin watched him for a moment, before ducking down an alleyway he knew was a shortcut. He didn't need to get there first; what awaited Parvier would keep him there for some time.

The front door was already open when Eldwin got there. He sauntered inside, running his hand along the railing as he went upstairs. The smell of blood only got stronger.

“She called for you, you know.” Eldwin leaned on the side of the door frame, his arms folded. Parvier stood frozen by the bed. He didn’t make a sound.

There, lay clumsily as if she’d fallen backwards, was a woman with alabaster skin, frazzled hair and painted lips parted with the ghost of her pleas. Empty eye sockets stared at the ceiling leaking trails of blood like tears. One hand was outstretched towards an empty cot, out of her reach.

“Begged you to save her. Save your daughter. She would have made a wonderful mother; in her final moments, despite being in terrible pain, she still tried to comfort her precious girl.”

Parvier breathed heavily. A low-pitched wail tore from his throat, a sound no man should even be able to make. Then he turned and launched himself at Eldwin, who remained in the doorway and didn’t move as Parvier’s hand enclosed around his throat.

“Where is she!?” Parvier demanded, tears streaming down his red cheeks. “What did you do!?”

“Rosie, was it? Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing her soon enough.” Eldwin brought his knee into Parvier’s crotch with full force causing him to release his hold with a stream of expletives. A well-placed kick with steel-lined boots sent him crashing to the floor. Eldwin straddled his waist to pin him, earning a scream as he pierced his hand with a dagger, through his palm to the floor. With one hand he pressed a knife to his throat. Black chains sprung from thin air, coiling around Parvier’s kicking legs like snakes, painfully tight, squeezing his arms and rendering him immobile. He stifled a whine as Eldwin dug the blade in just enough to draw a trickle of crimson seeping down his neck. “Was it worth it? What did they offer you that you didn’t already have? Sanctuary? Freedom? I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I wanted a new life! Five years contract, I’d be done by the time Rosie’s in school! These people, your people, they’re all monsters, all of them! I thought-” His voice broke off into sobs. Eldwin rolled his eyes. Why he never just killed them quickly, he didn't know. “We would move away, out of the city, away from all this!”

“What a nice thought,” Eldwin said dryly, “But that doesn’t tell me why you thought you could get away with it. You were doing so well. In five years, you could have been an executive, and the world would be at your fingertips. But you’ve gone and thrown it all away.” He retraced the dagger from his neck, twirling it to get a better grip.

“I trusted you,” Parvier spat venom despite his quivering voice. “I took pity on you! No wonder you were always alone. You’re the worst of them all!"

“For what it’s worth, I had nothing against you. You brought this on yourself.” He raised the dagger, point reflected in Parvier’s terrified pupil. “Perhaps you'll be able to protect your family in your next life."

“Wait, wait wait wait, please!”

Eldwin paused. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge him for a moment. The end result would be the same.

“Rosie,” he said weakly, “Please, she's not here, where is she, you- you can grant me that at lea-”

His eyes glinted in the silver blade. Blood spurted with a curdling scream.

*+*

“You’re late.”

Eldwin dropped to one knee, fist enclosed over his his thumping heart and his head bowed.

“I’m sorry sir,” he replied automatically.

“Silence,” Clyde ordered. “I didn’t tell you to speak.”

You never do. A flash of irritation coursed through him. I’m just somehow supposed to know, and I get punished both for not speaking and for speaking out of turn. He didn’t say that, of course. Never mind the fact that he got his job done, he was late. In a world that expects nothing less than perfection, the smallest error was written down as a failure. A weakness that must be corrected.

“Well? Report.”

It was only a simple job. Frankly, well below his level. “The mission went smoothly,” Eldwin said, careful to keep his tone level. “The targets were killed, all evidence disposed of. It was an easy task; there is nothing else of note.”

“Johim Parvier?”

Yes, he knew who his targets were. “Dead.”

“The wife?”

“Also dead. Do you not trust me?”

Eldwin felt Clyde’s gaze boring into him. “The child.”

Without missing a beat, “Dead.”

Eldwin tensed as Clyde walked from behind his desk to stand directly in front of him. Cruel fingers grasped his chin, forcing his head up.

"Liar."

The sound of his skin being struck reverberated through the office. His cheek stung, and he resisted the urge to wipe away whatever trickled down his face. He breathed out slowly, determined to not make a sound.

Clyde grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back. “You didn’t do it, did you? You were too weak to do what was needed.”

“She’s not even a year old!” Eldwin snapped, anger rising within him. He wrenched himself away from Clyde’s grasp. For a long moment he met Clyde’s dull eyes, his own blazing with fury. “What is she going to do? She won’t remember any of this. Both parents are dead, both died believing she was or will be killed. Why do we need to go further?”

He doubled over as a swift kick collided with his stomach, expelling the air from his lungs. No matter how he braced, the effect was the same. A bitter taste filled his mouth with twisting nausea and for a second he thought he would throw up. As he instinctively moved to protect his abdomen another kick to his side sent him crashing inelegantly to the floor. He tried to push himself up, trying to catch some air but all he could do was curl in on himself, arms over to protect his head, knees up to his chest.

“You don’t get to make those decisions!” Clyde landed blow after blow. “You don’t get to question me, think you know better. You. Are. Mine! Your only purpose is to follow my orders!” His voice rose with every word until he was yelling, boiling rage pushing him to his limit. “What did you do with her?” Another hard kick to his ribs. “Answer me!”

“I’m not telling you,” Eldwin managed. He gasped for breath, pulling himself up on all fours. His arms trembled beneath him. Even if he did, Clyde was unlikely to actually do anything. Even he would have to admit there was no point in tracking her down now. It wasn’t about her. It was about Eldwin daring to have a mind of his own. Knowingly and purposefully disobeying his orders. The child would live, but Eldwin was not allowed to make that decision. So he would pay the price.

“Is that so?”

Predictably, Eldwin ended up on the floor again, this time on his back with Clyde’s polished boot planted on his throat. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep his hands by his head while his airways were cut off. His face burned, his lungs fought for oxygen, and he had to stay still. Ignore his body’s most primal instinct. It was easier said than done. But he was experienced.

“You take me for a fool.” Clyde pressed down harder and if his airways weren’t currently being crushed Eldwin might have let out a whimper. Fortunately, Clyde had taken care of that. “I let you have freedom, more than you deserve and mark my words, I can take it back just as easily. If you pull anything like this again, you will regret having taken me for granted, I promise you that.” He let go.

Immediately Eldwin rolled over, coughing and wheezing. He was able to get to his knees. He didn’t dare to stand. He bowed so low the ends of his hair brushed the ground. His body ached. This was only the start, he knew. It would be worse later. At least he didn’t think anything was broken.

“Get up,” Clyde hissed. Eldwin tentatively straightened, unsure if he should stand or not. The decision was made for him when he was roughly pulled up by the collar of his shirt. Clyde kept a tight hold, dragging him down the hall. The office building was mostly empty at the late hour, but there were a few stragglers they passed. Some pointedly didn’t look. Most watched them leave with disdain. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see. Likely, they wondered why Clyde didn’t have better control over his pet project – it’s not that he couldn’t. He chose not to.

Eldwin often wondered the same thing.

The dark cell was like a second home. In some ways, he preferred it to his nice room at the manor – at least this one looked like a prison. Chains hung from the ceiling, shackles on the wall, and a cabinet with some favourite supplies stood out of reach of any of the restraints.

He wasn’t a minimalist, but he could see the appeal. The dingy, vaguely damp atmosphere had a certain charm.

Clyde shoved him to his knees in the centre. A metal collar lay on the floor, attached to a chain. Longer cuffs hung above him. His arms were pulled taut behind his back, in the cuffs hanging from the ceiling, then he leaned down as much as he could as the collar was secured around his neck. It was a position that was uncomfortable from the start, already tugging on his shoulders. It would be killer later. He had a sneaking suspicion that was probably the point.

A gag was shoved into his mouth, iron bit clinking against his teeth. The gag fitted around his face like a muzzle, with metal inside pinning his tongue so he could not speak. It was one of his least favourite instruments, more so when Clyde attached a thin chain to the back of it, stretching it to attach the other end to his wrists, pulling his head back. Any movement would disturb the gag, scraping and tearing the inside of his mouth while the cuffs around his wrists would rub deep. He had the chains on his wrist trying to keep him up, while the one attached to his collar wanted to drag him to the floor.

Next, black cloth was tied around his head, covering his eyes. Rather pointless, seeing as the room would be dark enough when the door closed, but it made Clyde feel good, and it’s not like Eldwin could say anything anyway.

“You forget your place. You don’t get to make choices, to decide who’s punished, who lives and who dies. I gave you the chance to be useful. Do you know what happens to people who are not useful? Most are killed, or sold. Slaves. Lab rats. The only way they can find some value in their miserable lives. Is that what you want?

“Never forget that my word is the only thing keeping you safe. I have been lenient, but you can only push me so far.” Clyde’s footsteps receded, and his voice was more distant, but no less firm. The loud anger was gone, replaced with a cold, underlying tone that only said danger. “Be grateful for what you’ve been given, and don’t try to be someone you’re not. Think about your actions tonight. Decide whether it was worth it. Because believe me, if this happens again there will be no more chances.”

The room shook as the heavy door slammed shut. Eldwin exhaled slowly. He twisted his wrists, ignoring the stinging pain in his mouth to try in vain for a slightly more comfortable position. The clanking of chains was the only sound to break the stuffy silence. He soon gave up. His body ached with the dull throb of forming bruises – no doubt he’d be decorated by morning. His arms were already growing numb.

Was it worth it. Another question he asked himself a lot. It was easy to say no. Every time he spoke without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the expression on Clyde’s face. Every broken bone, every gash through his skin. Every time he nearly suffocated in his own fear, every hard-earned lesson he would still learn to this day, over and over again until it’s drilled into his skull. Every day spent in the lab, coming out feeling nauseous and trembling, unable to get out of bed as his body refused to obey him. Every time he stumbled from someone else’s room, sick to his stomach with an encompassing hollow within, it’s your own fault-

Watching the light drain from someone’s eyes beneath his hands. The rush it gives him, and the accompanying guilt for feeling that way.

Every time he looked in the mirror, and didn’t recognise the person staring back. He would ask himself that very same question – is it worth it, while he takes off his glove and glares at the mark, the reminder of the choice he made. When thinking of that night, the night on the train tracks, he thinks about why. He thinks of bright eyes shining with admiration, the sound of children’s laughter. He remembers the quiet cries at night, from one not knowing they could be heard. The utter helplessness he felt.

Tiny fingers curling in his cloak, unaware of the world they missed.

He wouldn’t linger on that question anymore. He wasn't sure he could accept the answer.

Captain needed a new rule - all clients needed to strip before all the sex stuff. The assholes kept trying to sneak stuff in under their clothes. Next time one of the guys tried to tell me they had nice clients and that not all clients were human-shaped dumpsters, I would remind them of the client who was stupid enough to not only rough-up Mamoru but also to stab me with a tiny pocket knife.

He should have brought a bigger knife if he wanted to do any real damage. I guess a bigger one wouldn’t have fit in his boot, but the small one fit into my side with all the force of a bug bite. His grip made for an easy target. Grabbing his wrist with one hand, I slammed the heel of the other into the back of his elbow. The resounding crunch of his bones sent him into a screaming fit. I didn’t even have to kick him down. He dropped to the floor on his own, cradling his arm.

Left his stupid, tiny knife in my side though, asshole. As soon as I yanked it out, blood spread out along my sleep shirt in a heated pool. “This had better wash out,” I growled as I tugged my wristband off and slapped it on the client’s arm instead. The band lit up in a bright flash of blue, turning the bastard turned into a twitchy mess. Captain made me use weird shit to put down clients. Beating them bloody would have worked just fine, but he insisted on tasing or drugs to knock them out. That just wasn’t satisfying enough. The bastards deserved a few good breaks and bruises.

But whatever. Captain’s orders.

With the client glitching out like a busted hologram on the floor, I stepped over him and up to Mamoru. The Kodais never had trouble when they were together, but being alone left them open to danger, and Mamoru worked to blink away a daze. Blood dripped from his lips. Judging by the way his cheek was starting to bruise, his teeth had cut into the inside. “Come on,” I said, taking him by the arm to lead him to his feet. “Let’s get you away from this bastard. I’ll get Captain to take care of him.”

Mamoru stumbled like the carpet was sliding out from under his feet. His hands landed on my shoulders for stability. “Can’t believe he hit my face,” he said as I dragged him toward the door. “I need that.”

“Next time you decide to take a dick of a client, tell him to hit you in the brain since you sure don’t need that.”

He whined like an abused dog, but judging by his cutesy pout, he was just fishing for sympathy. “Daiba, be nice to me. I just got beat up.”

“Yeah-yeah.” As I snapped the door shut, the wound in my side seemed to sink its fangs in deeper. I couldn’t hold back a wince.

Mamoru must not have been that dazed because he noticed. “What’s wrong?” But even before the question was all the way out of his mouth, his eyes found the blood that had crept its way toward the buttons of my shirt. The grip on my shoulder became a vise, spinning me to face him. “Is that your blood? Daiba!?”

“It’s fine,” I said with a shrug. When the panic didn’t leave his eyes, I held up the knife, still coated in my blood. “It’s such a small knife. It couldn’t do much.”

Fear iced over his expression, and though he opened his mouth, nothing came out at first. The claws in my shoulder dragged me toward the second flight of stairs. When he did speak, his voice was so thin that it sounded lost in a breeze. “We’re taking you to the infirmary.”

“We need to tell Captain about the client.”

“I will tell him! But we need for you to stop bleeding. Shit, Daiba, you got stabbed!”

“It’s whatever.”

Mamoru started chewing my ear off like he wasn’t the one who’d gotten his ass kicked in the first place. I was a bodyguard. Getting in fights and taking hits was my job, but all the guys yelled at me when I did what I was supposed to. Even before I started work at the brothel, it was like that.

They shouldn’t have cared. No one should have. Where I came from, useless street kids were as plentiful as the rats and heaps of trash littering the planet. All I did there was fight, and no one cared. Well, the guys whose asses I kicked might have cared, but I sure as hell didn’t.

I didn’t pay enough attention to remember which gang was which. They all flaunted dumb names like “White Tigers” or “Poison Fang,” but they were all the same. A bunch of weak dogs roaming in packs to look tougher. I let them be as long as they didn’t bother me. The burned husk of an apartment on Fifth Street was mine, and they knew that. As long as they kept away, I didn’t care enough to fight them.

Their heads were too damn big, though. Bastards always picked a fight when I went out into the streets. The worst bunch was some group named after a shark or fish or whatever. I got to know them too well for my liking. Because of that, I recognized the sounds of their voices in time to stop me from turning down one of my usual haunts.

“You’re clearly not from around here,” the one with the tattooed face said. “So I guess you don’t know the rules.”

“Yeah, just give us your stuff,” chimed in another voice I matched to a scrawny guy in my memories who’d been egging the rest on in our last brawl. That bastard was going to hurt. He’d been the one to throw in the pipe that busted my leg. The all-too-familiar sound of the hollow metal ringing and scraping along the concrete echoed out from the alley.

The third voice sent my blood boiling. “We don’t need any violence,” he said, the same one who’d swung that pipe into my leg like an ax to a tree. I’d been dragging around a limp for days, trying to avoid fights while it recovered. Being injured would slow me down, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to dish out some revenge.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” someone I didn’t recognize added. “You would not come out unscathed. Walk away, and we can leave this.” He sounded older than any of the gang kids. Though his voice was calm, it held the dark edge of a threat.

Whatever. I’d kick his ass too if I had to.

He made for a helpful distraction as I launched myself around the corner. Tattoo turned just in time for my elbow to shatter his nose. When he hunched over to clutch at his face, my knee met his gut. For all his talk, he went down in a heap without a fight.

Scrawny came next. He was too tall for my elbows and knees to be much help. I couldn’t chance breaking my fingers on his ugly mug, so I punched him in the throat instead. People always try to curl in on themselves when they take a bad hit, try to hunker down and protect everything vital. That made my job easier because I was cursed to be short. Once Scrawny ducked his head enough to be in my range, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and smashed his face into the brick wall.

That left Pipe, who forced me to jump back as he aimed to crack my skull open. My right leg staggered under me, protesting my weight with nauseating flashes of pain. A strangled yelp tore up my throat, and Pipe’s eyes lit up with a sadistic recognition. “I remember you,” he laughed as his pipe swung back around and cracked into my leg again.

I had to hiss air between my teeth to keep from screaming. The pain burned so hot that the rest of my body seemed chilled. The deafening crack of a blaster cut through the air, and I found Pipe clutching his empty hand to his chest with a wince. His weapon clattered to the ground.

As the burnt smell of the gunshot tinged the air, the last man in the alley steadied his aim again and spoke in such a low voice that it could have been a growl. “Leave.”

I wasn’t going to fuck with anyone wielding a gun, but while the other bastards scurried off back to whatever pits they crawled out of, my first step brought the ground up to meet me. My leg roared with pain so overwhelming that my eyelids fluttered before I could yank them back open.

“There’s no way you’re moving on that,” the gunman said. The edge was gone from his voice, replaced with a flat drawl of reality. He sounded far too close for my liking. “Stay still.”                                                                                             

He hung over me, close enough that I could see the dark brown of his one eye even in the dim light from our moons. His arm clutched me around the shoulders, keeping me upright. He could fuck right off with all of that.

“Don’t touch me!” I sent a jab straight for his face, but the crushing grip of his hand caught mine.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as I tried to yank my hand free. “You helped me, and I appreciate it.”

“I didn’t fight them to help you,” I snarled. Only when I let the tension out of my arm did he release his grip. “I just had some business with those assholes. If you came to this planet looking like that, you’re dumb enough that you deserve to get jumped.”

Gunman had clothes so nice I’d only seen them in pictures. It seemed too fancy, like a costume. “Maybe, but I could handle them,” he said. I wanted to tell him that a gun wouldn’t save him forever, but his hand pressed on my thigh where the damned pipe had just hit. He may not have put any pressure on the bruise. I couldn’t tell. Just the weight of his hand was enough to send my stomach rolling from the pain. Exhaustion hit me like a wall, my eyes rolling back.

“Damn,” he hissed. His voice was enough for me to grab onto to stay conscious, shaking away the dark edges on my vision. “That’s, uh, not good.”

“S’fine,” I said. “Get away from me.”

“My name is Harlock,” he said like I’d asked. “I employ a doctor. Let me take you to him.”

I may not have gone to school much, but I was not that stupid. Too many of the other guys on the streets went missing for me to trust some rich asshole with a gun. “Hell no!”

“Then let me contact your family-”

“Don’t have one.”

Silence bit at us for a breath. “Sorry,” he said. “I suppose I should have known. Listen, I understand why you wouldn’t want to trust me, but I came to this planet looking for someone to hire - a bodyguard. I know a number of skilled mercenaries work in this area, so that was my original intent, but why don’t you let me hire you instead? You seem plenty capable.”

“Thought you said you could handle yourself.” My words tinged with a slur. Sleep pulled at me like grasping hands reaching from the ground.

“You wouldn’t be guarding me. You’d be looking after my employees.”

“Who’re they? I don’t look after assholes.” I’d never looked after anyone but myself. Gangs weren’t for me. I couldn’t get along with anyone else, and Harlock didn’t know what he was talking about. Or he was lying. That seemed more likely.

“No,” he said. “You’ll be fighting the assholes.”

“I’ll consider it.” Considering time was a half-second, and that was enough to assure me Harlock was bad news. “No,” I decided.

“Let me get you to a doctor regardless.”

“I’m fine.” I would have been even better if he would have let go of me, actually.

Harlock heaved a sigh. “Look, I’m not a medical professional, and even I can tell that leg is broken.”

He was obviously no professional because my leg was not broken, just bruised. I would have noticed a break. “Really?” I drawled in disbelief. “And how are you so sure?”

“I can feel the bone sticking out of place”

“Bullshit!” When I placed my hand on my thigh, though, I could feel the way my skin had shifted in an uneven ridge beneath the fabric of my pants. “Well… It’ll heal eventually.” The pain didn’t seem like enough to be a break, so I guessed it could have been some knot instead. After all, I could still move my leg. As I pulled my knee inward, aiming to stand, the pain morphed into a tidal wave that dragged me under. My vision slipped to black, and I could hear Harlock barking something. None of it was clear enough to understand.

All I could make sense of was the pain until that blinked out too.

I woke in what must have been a hospital room. Too damn bright and white to be anything else. I had to squint to make out much of anything. The bed was the first I’d slept on in ages that didn’t jab me with metal springs. As my eyes adjusted, I spotted a man standing at my side. He wore a dark green uniform I didn’t recognize. His hair was so silky and neat that it looked more like a cat’s fur than hair. Brunet strands framed his face and dark brown eyes, which focused on the drip feed of some drug. The tube leading from the vial hooked to a needle port in the crook of my arm. My hand shot to it, ready to free myself from whatever he was using to drug me.

“Don’t,” he said, so sharp and sudden that I froze. His gaze had not left the clear liquid. “That’s just going to hurt. If you try to take it out, I’ll give you a bigger needle to replace it, so calm yourself. It’s just an antibiotic.”

Though I didn’t pull the needle free, I kept my hand on the port as I eyed him. “Who are you?”

“You are an idiot.” Still not looking at me, he gestured to the patch on his sleeve. The embroidered red x looked like the symbols on first aid kits I stole. That made him a walking first aid kit, I guessed.

“I’m not an idiot,” I snapped. “Doctors are supposed to wear white coats, so what are you?”

When his gaze did turn to me, the snobby irritation in his voice and expression did not change. “I am a medical sexaroid. Call me Zero if you must, though Doctor works as well. I am the one who fixed you, so you should be thankful.”

Thankful, my ass. I wasn’t staying anywhere with some fucked-up sex robot.

“I’ve set your broken leg,” he continued, “and I saw to your skull fracture. You must have had that for some time. I imagine the headaches were troublesome, and you must have been bleeding from your eyes, yes?”

That was enough to keep me put. “How’d you know?”

“Doc-tor,” he repeated with emphasis.

Though I held back some choice insults, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Okay, how’d you know, Doctor?”

His expression remained dull as he breathed a slow sigh. “The brain damage must have been worse than I thought. It doesn’t matter. I fixed what I could. I also cleaned out the infection in your lungs, and I removed that disgusting lice infestation from your hair. When was the last time you even bathed? Actually, I don’t want to know.”

For a robot, he was a huge dick. I guessed the robotic laws didn’t apply to emotional harm, not that he looked like a robot. He could have just been lying to be an even bigger dick.

“The last thing that needs proper attention is the malnourishment,” he said, crossing his arms, “and that is a simple fix. Some food will be brought shortly.”

He didn’t move when I reached up and poked at his cheek. Though he did feel like skin, he was cold and stiff like a corpse. “You don’t look like a robot,” I said.

He batted my hand away as he spoke. “Android. Not a robot. It’s in the name - sexa-roid.”

“Yeah, I’m more worried about the sex part. What the fuck is up with that?”

“It’s a catch-all term. The original sexaroids were built with an obvious, carnal purpose in mind, but as we were further developed, our uses became varied. My creator didn’t like calling me a sexaroid, but technically I am one due to some overlapping mechanics. Trying to have sex with me is not recommended, though, and will result in removal of some non-vital parts.”

As he spoke, I worked my way into a proper sitting position despite whatever drugs were weighing me down. I felt no less confused when he finished. “Is it that people can’t have sex with you, or that you don’t want them to?” I asked.

“Yes. Now stop asking stupid questions or you’ll be getting your pills the other way.”

“What other way?”

His dim eyes blinked twice before he shook his head. “Nevermind. Your food is here.”

Before I could tell him he was malfunctioning, the door across the room swung inward. Another man, older looking than the sex robot doctor but still not that old, strode in focused on the tray of dishes in his hands. His brow knitted in concentration as he tried to keep whatever was on there from spilling. When he did look my way, his eyes brightened like an eager puppy’s. “So good to see you up,” he said. “I made you some food.”

He could have brought me anything, laced with poison or drugs or whatever, and I would have scarfed it down. My stomach seemed to be eating itself, turning into a gaping hole in my gut. I was always hungry.

What he set down across my lap was actually damn good, just about the best thing I’d ever eaten. It was some kind of potato soup, so warm it heated me from my chest to my fingers and toes. The man had to tell me not to eat it too fast because I all-but gagged myself on the spoon in my rush.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said with a smile. “I don’t get such compliments on my cooking often.”

I hadn’t said anything, too busy chewing on the spoon. He didn’t seem to mind.

“My name is Warrius Zero. I work here.”

My eyes narrowed as I looked back to the doctor. “Wasn’t your name Zero too? Is this some kind of cult?” And if Second Zero worked at the hospital, he sure didn’t dress for the part. He had the same sort of fancy costume that I’d seen on Harlock.

“If you must know, my creator named me after him,” the doctor said. “Now shut up and drink your water.”

Glaring at him out of the corner of my eye, I chugged the water and slammed the empty glass back down on the tray. Despite my attempt at defiance, he smirked.

“Would you mind giving us your name as well?” Second Zero asked, still with that kind smile.

“I don’t like to give my name out to weirdos in suspicious hospitals.” Or anyone else, honestly. No one needed my name. It wasn’t as though we were going to be pals.

“If you tell me your name, I’ll bring you more soup.”

“Daiba. Tadashi Daiba.”

He was good on his word, and as I ate two more bowls of soup, I found myself with more odd visitors. The hospital had a weird dress code because they all wore a rainbow of vests. First came the alien, who didn’t say anything but looked so starry-eyed as he clasped my hands that I couldn’t bring myself to dislike him. The guy called Dick lived up to his name, an annoying prick. He kept trying to ruffle my hair until I bit him. The brothers were fine, kind of weird with their constant arguing, but they didn’t try to touch me beyond a handshake.

My first non-guy visitor also didn’t wear a stupid vest. She dressed casually and appraised me with the same suspicion I gave her. “How old are you?” she asked.

Not that it was any of her business, but I set to counting back the winters, trying to recall how long it had been since my last proper birthday. My planet had about two cycles for every Earth one, so that was…

“Fourteen? Fifteen?” I looked up from my fingers. I didn’t have enough to help me count. “I don’t know.”

“Oh jeez.” Her head listed to the side, and her arms crossed. “Well, you’re not exactly what I asked for, but I’ve heard good things about your fighting ability. It’ll be nice to work with you once you’re back on your feet. I’m Kei, also a bodyguard.”

My spine shot straight. “I didn’t agree to that job! And I didn’t ask for anyone’s help, so I don’t owe any of you anything.” If they expected payment or servitude for fixing me up, they would be sorely disappointed.  

Her smile turned into a smirk. “Too bad. You’re stuck with us now. With how rough you were when the captain brought you in, there’s no way the boys are going to let you go back to that planet. What did you even do to wind up like that?”

That wasn’t her business either, and I was not going to let her gloss over the more important topic. “What do you mean ‘back to that planet?’ Where the hell are we? I’m leaving! You can’t keep me here!”

“You’re on a satellite,” Harlock said as he slipped in like a shadow through the open door. “You have no money for transportation, so unless you have some other method of space traversal, you’d do well to make yourself comfortable for the time being.” He placed himself beside Kei, his expression stony in response to my glare. “Sorry for taking so long to come see you. You seem to be doing much better. I’m glad. Now before you try to attack me-”

I wasn’t just going to try. I was going to destroy him.

“-I’m going to once again offer you the position of bodyguard for Arcadia.”

“Arcadia? The whorehouse?” I’d heard whispers of it back home, a place notorious for being outside of the law’s reach. “Is this sex trafficking? What the fuck!?”

The doctor sighed as I tried to launch myself out of the bed to kick Harlock’s ass. I forgot about the cast on my leg. The awkward extra weight dragged me down, and my cheek smacked against the icy floor.

“You’d be a bodyguard for the sex workers, not one yourself,” Harlock said as Kei picked me up by the scruff of my hospital gown and tossed me back into bed. “You already met them, all of the prostitutes in my employment.”

The only people I’d met were all those guys, so they must have been the whores. While I didn’t know what a whore was supposed to look like, I had a feeling those guys weren’t typical. That also brought up some weird questions about those brothers that I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers to.

“Your job would be to subdue any clients who aim to bring harm to my employees,” Harlock continued. “I have strict rules of consent, and I don’t tolerate troublesome clients. They tend to be quite wealthy and think they can get away with whatever they’d like because of it. If you need to rough them up some to get the message across, that’s fine by me.”

If I’d been kidnapped just so I could fight for them, I wasn’t sure I could be mad about it. Fighting was all I was good at, all I knew how to do. I didn’t mind having to crack a few skulls in exchange for having all the lice gone. Damn things drove me crazy, so I would have killed a man if it meant being rid of them. Getting to wail on some affluent assholes was just a plus. “So I’d just get to beat up rich bastards?” I asked.

Harlock shrugged. “More or less.”

Damn, I would have done that for free.

“Okay, I’ll work here, but only if I get more food.”

“That was easy,” Kei muttered.

A smile tugged at Harlock’s lips. “Your meals will be covered along with your room. I’m happy to have you aboard, Daiba.”

“Great, so can I get more potato soup?”

That soup was the first meal anyone had made for me in years. Monono’s cooking was great, and I loved all the sweets Kei brought from far-off places for me to try, but nothing beat that soup. It was every warmth and comfort Arcadia had given me. Every time I wound up in the infirmary with that asshole doctor, Zero would make it for me. Even when he was half-asleep at 3 AM.

I’d lost some time to the drugs Doctor gave me for surgery, but when I woke, Mamoru was sitting on the cot beside mine as his brother berated him. The two of them both had bowls of soup in their hands, and Zero was dozing in a chair near the foot of my bed. When Doctor noticed me awake, he helped me ease into a sitting position. As he handed me my own bowl of soup, he said that Harlock had taken care of the stab-happy client.

That was all I knew about what happened to bad clients - Harlock “took care” of them. I got to throw out troublemakers, but the real sick bastards I just put down. After Harlock took over, I never saw them again, and that was fine by me.

Other than the dark stain of a bruise on his cheek, Mamoru looked alright. “It won’t happen again,” he was telling his brother. “I was just careless. I’ll be more careful.”

No, I was careless. I should have gotten to him faster, should have noticed the client was trouble at the beginning. If I’d been any slower, that knife could have done some real damage. I would not let that happen again.

“Daiba’s the one to be upset over,” Mamoru continued when the concern didn’t ease from Susumu’s face. “Go fret about him. Doc gave me an all clear, not even a concussion. There’s no need to worry.”

After adjusting the drip of whatever he was drugging me with this round, Doctor sighed and went over to Zero, who was two seconds from falling out of the chair. Doctor hooked his arm under Zero’s and pulled him to his feet, murmuring, “Let’s just get you to bed before there’s another injury, alright?”

Zero’s head lolled as he fought to hold onto some form of consciousness. “Hm? What? Where are we going? Is Daiba okay?”

Their voices echoed as they reached the hall. “Daiba is fine. He’s too stubborn to let a knife bother him. Now how does sleep sound?”

“Sleep is good. I love sleep. I love you.”

“Right, yes, I love you too.”

“Zero’s cute when he’s tired,” Mamoru said. “And he’s got the right idea. I should get back to my room before Doc wants to run any more tests. You should get some sleep too, Susumu. Your client is coming tomorrow.”

Susumu’s lips tightened to a thin line as he helped his brother to his feet. Whether he was upset about Mamoru’s condition, or the idea of his client, I wasn’t sure, but I hated that royal bastard. His smug face and sweeping, flashy mannerisms made me want to knock him out. Mamoru and Susumu almost never had troubles with clients when they were together. Weird as it was, I hoped the two of them could pair up again. I wanted that royal guy gone as soon as possible. As much as I hated him, though, I hoped he wouldn’t give me a reason to kick his ass.

Mamoru came up to my side and squeezed me in a bone-crushing hug until Susumu barked at him about my stitches. While I wanted to be angry at him too, I didn’t hate the hugs. The guys didn’t need to know it. I wasn’t going to say I wanted hugs or anything. I didn’t, really, but I wasn’t going to say no to one if the guys wanted to hug me.

Unless it was Dick because he could fuck off.

“Thanks, kid,” Mamoru said as he pulled away. “But next time don’t scare me like that, alright?”

“I’m fine,” I reminded him.

“I know, and I know it’s your job to look after us, but I’m still allowed to worry when you get hurt.”

When Susumu hugged me, he clung like static, pressed tight with his face buried in my shoulder. “Thank you for looking after my idiot brother,” he murmured. “I know this room can be cold. Do you need anything?”

He didn’t let go, still hanging on me, so I put my arms around him too. Unsure what else to do, I patted his back. “I wish I could go back to my room, but I know the doctor won’t let me,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s stubborn,” Susumu sighed, pulling back with a worn smile. “But don’t worry. We’ll take care of it.”

As they headed for the hall, Mamoru whispered, “We will?”

Susumu said something I couldn’t hear in return, but I could see him smiling. They didn’t turn off the lights when they left. The Doctor would if he felt like it.

Putting my bowl aside on the table, I eased myself back down despite the ache in my side. I swore it hurt more after the stitches, feeling like it might tear open again at any moment. Once I’d flopped onto my back, though, the pain fell away. Sleep came easy for the two seconds I was allowed to have it.

“Hey, Daiba.”

I cracked one eye open to find one staring back in return. Kneeling at my side, Captain forced a weak smile and started patting my hair. “Sorry to wake you, but I took care of him. He won’t come back.”

“Of course.” My words slurred in rebellion. “You always do, Captain.”

He never touched me except to drag me away from bad clients, so the patting confused me. The fear burning his eye was unnatural too, something he never let show. “I’ll be more careful in checking for weapons,” he breathed more than said. “I’m very sorry.”

Oh, guilt. That was it. Captain didn’t need to feel guilty for my sake. None of them did, yet it kept happening. I was just their shield, a thing to be used. They didn’t need to feel bad for a shield when it took a hit. If I broke, that was my own fault, not theirs. They’d done enough for me, taking me in and looking after my wounds, making me food, giving me affection in their own weird ways. In return, I would take a knife or a bullet. Anything for them. The only ones who’d ever cared about me.

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not the first time I’ve been stabbed.”

Captain winced. “You are a magnet for trouble, you know?” he sighed, standing. Some form of a kiss brushed against my forehead and bangs. “You did a good job, Daiba. Get some rest.”

He flicked the light off as he slipped out, and once again, I fell into a doze. And once again, someone dragged me out of it.

The bed shifted under the weight of heavy hands and knees. “Daiba, are you okay?” whispered a small voice, so sweet I swore I’d get a toothache just from hearing him. “Susumu said you got stabbed.” Looking like he might collapse and fall asleep against me at any moment, Tadashi sat at my side in his pink pajamas, lips drawn to a pout.

“I-I’m alright.” But my face was getting hot. He was close enough that sitting up would have knocked our heads together, not that I could sit up easily. “You can go back to bed.”

Tadashi nodded. “The Kodais said it’s cold in here, but don’t worry,” he said through a yawn. Tugging up the blankets, he settled himself under them and flopped his head down against my pillow. “I will help.”

Though he seemed to pass out in seconds, I could no longer grasp sleep. Our noses almost touched in the small space of the bed. Had either of us been any bigger, it wouldn’t have worked, but he was so small. My hand trembled as I reached beneath the sheets and took hold of his. He slept on without a twitch, yet I felt a burning in my chest. Like the potato soup but painful. Like wanting to cry, maybe.

Playing any drinking game with Zero was a bad idea. Even with poor Manabu sitting with a full row of shots in front of him, Zero still seemed like the soberest one out of all of us. Meanwhile, Dick was losing. Badly.

He spoke with a bit of tongue-tied slur and a dopey smile. “I’ve run shout- out of things I’ve never done. Um…” With his eyes shut tight, he wracked his liquor-tinted brain until his hands shot up with a revelation. “Oh! I’ve never fucked my brother.”

I stopped the glass before it reached my lips. “You have a brother?”

He rambled a series of nonsense, trying to blow the question off in a nonchalant manner, I assumed. “No,” he finally answered.

He was lying.

“Then it’s not really a fair thing to say you’ve never done,” I said.

“Fine. I’ve never fucked a relative.”

As I took another shot, his triumphant laugh made me want to punch him to the floor, which I doubted he could have gotten up from. I was starting to worry he might spill a shot all over the carpet. If it had been anyone else’s room, I wouldn’t have cared, but I’d dragged everyone into mine for this game.

“Does it count if I’ve only been fucked by my brother?” Susumu asked. Zero dropped his face in his hands, and Manabu hadn’t looked up from a staring match with his shots in some time. I wasn’t sure Shep knew how the game worked because he would just sip from the glasses every now and then. Judging by the way it made him shudder, he was doing it to be polite.

Dick decided it did count for Susumu, so my brother knocked back a shot as well, followed by a quick drink of his chaser. Even the weak alcohol we were using was rough on him. Probably for the best that Manabu hadn’t gotten to drink anything. He was surely a lightweight.

“Your turn,” I told him when he didn’t look up from his shots.

“Oh!” His head jerked up, but surprise turned to resignation in an instant. “I’ve never- uh, what have I already said? I’ve never slept with an alien, I guess. I don’t know.”

After watching the rest of us drink, even Shep took a shot that round, though Susumu had to share his chaser with the poor guy.

We might as well have fucked the aliens in front of him for the look on Manabu’s face. “You all have?”

“They’re my favorite clients,” Dick giggled.

“I’ve had a couple,” Zero said. “Usually more polite than humans.”

“Yeah, how’s your guy?” I asked as I fell to lean against Susumu’s shoulder. He sent me to the floor with a quick shove.

“No touching,” he said. Even a few drinks weren’t enough to get him to talk about that damn client of his. My plan had gotten me nowhere. “It’s my turn, so never have I ever given a footjob.”

Dick and I whined like abused dogs as Zero knocked back a shot so quick I only saw him set the glass down and swallow.

“No fair, Susumu,” I said. “I always dealt with the foot fetishes so you wouldn’t have to.”

“Footjobs make my feet cramp,” Dick muttered before taking his shot.

“Foot...jobs?” Manabu echoed. “So like, they get off by having their feet touched?”

Zero took another shot without needing to while I tried my best not to burst into laughter like Dick, who was rolling on the floor. “It’s like a handjob but with your feet,” Susumu said.

Manabu didn’t respond beyond the confusion filling his face.

“Maybe we should have someone go over kinks with you in case you get a weird first client,” Susumu said.

Dick spoke between fits of giggles. “Someone would have to be crazy to touch that boy.”

With a sigh, Zero stood and walked over to Dick. “You’ve had enough,” Zero said. “Let’s get you some water.”

Dick’s protests stopped as soon as Zero scooped him up into a cradle. “You’re so strong!” he cooed. Even as Zero carried him out, we could hear Dick’s voice trailing off. “Zero, why don’t you ever sleep with me? I look like Wataru, don’t I? No! You can’t drop me! You have to be nice to me. I’m cute.”

“Uncle Dick is kind of weird,” Manabu said, though a smile curled at his lips.

Dick was weird, but hearing Dick called Uncle was weirder. The guy was younger than I was and sure acted like it. Of course, Wataru was almost twice as old as Dick. That kept them from looking too similar, but it was impossible to deny that they were brothers. Looked more similar than Susumu and I. But unfortunately for Manabu, he also looked much like his father, so it was apparent he and Dick were related.

“You ever worry some weirdo is going to ask for the two of you together?” I asked Manabu.

He must not have thought about it before. Eyes rolled up, he hummed in thought. “I don’t know that Uncle Phantom would let anyone do that. Besides, I think once the clients realized we were related like that, they wouldn’t be interested.”

“Oh, he’s so cute,” Susumu said.

I nodded. “He’s so innocent. I feel bad.”

“I’m not innocent!” Manabu spluttered with the cutest, most innocent blush I’d ever seen.

“We’ve had clients who didn’t even want us to touch them,” Susumu said. “Just wanted to watch.”

“Watch what?”

“Us have sex.”

“Th-they know you’re brothers, right?”

I had my hands over my mouth to hide my smile, but the trembling of my shoulders was giving my snickering away. “He’s too pure,” I murmured through my fingers. “We’re corrupting him.”

Susumu held things together better, though his hand undoubtedly hid a smile as well. “Better us than a client,” he said. “Manabu, it’s because we’re brothers. That was kind of our schtick until I became exclusive.”

Manabu’s wide eyes narrowed to a squint. “Clients are weird,” he said.

My laughter escaped then, enough to make my stomach ache. I could hardly speak around my gasps for air. “You don’t know the half of it! Tell you what, babe.” He didn’t look impressed by my wink. “Once you’re not a virgin, if you need anyone to teach you some of the weird stuff, just let me know. I’ll make sure to take things slow for you.”

“Stop,” was all Harlock had to say as he appeared in the doorway. He fit his given name well. I never heard him coming.

“We were just wrapping up,” I said. “Manabu didn’t know what a footjob was.”

Harlock looked inches away from shooting himself out an airlock, but he simply said, “You all should go to bed. Tomorrow’s a theme day, and I don’t need you all hungover for it.”

“Oh, I forgot we were having a theme day,” I said. “Good, I’ve been so bored! What’s the theme for this one, Captain? Cat ears? I want to do cat ears. Manabu would look cute in them. It’s a good idea, Captain. Come on!”

He blinked at me. “You’re drunk. And no, it’s just tuxes this time.”

“Boring!” I howled.

Harlock was probably on his best behavior after Zero almost killed him and several potential clients. For the last theme day we were scheduled to wear sailor uniforms, which Zero was fine with until Harlock handed him an old-fashioned schoolgirl outfit. After refusing to shave his legs, Zero sat sulking in the corner all night. He didn’t get any new clients out of it, but I sure did. I looked damn good in a skirt.

“Considering how many clients you lost, we may have more theme days in the future,” Harlock said. “We currently have some open days on the schedule for next month. If you can convince Zero, I’ll order some cat ears.”

“And tails!” I added, throwing my arms up. Shep was the only one smiling along with me, but he was always smiling.

Theme days were purely for attracting more clients, so the captain scheduled them on our occasional empty days. Dick and I usually competed to see who could get the most guys, but without Susumu hanging on my arm, I was at a disadvantage.

The next day, as the rest of us slipped into the fancy tuxes Harlock had ordered, Susumu got to wear the same white vest and black shirt as Kei, Daiba, and Tadashi.

“It’s been awhile since I wore pants,” Tadashi said, turning to look himself over as Zero tried to knot his bowtie. The kid had fiddled with it so much that he’d pulled it loose, but I couldn’t blame him. The bowties were a tad stuffy.

Harlock had gotten us all color-coordinated ones, as usual. Mine was orange, Zero’s was an eye-blinding shade of yellow, and Shep had one one in purple, pink, and yellow because, as Harlock put it, “It was cute, and I wanted to see him in it.” Couldn’t argue with him there. Shep was a mess of colors and adorable.

Manabu was also cute as anything with his little blue bowtie, though his hair remained its usual bird’s nest despite our attempt to tame it with combs and hairspray. Zero gave up after half an hour to focus on making sure Daiba and Tadashi looked presentable. Neither of them knew how to dress themselves.

“Stay still,” Zero sighed as Tadashi tried to look at his own back. Tadashi complied but was quick to pout. “Now, let’s go over this again. What do you need to say to any of the men who come in?”

“Absolutely nothing,” the kid grumbled.

“If they ask you anything?”

“Answer quickly and move on.”

“If they come onto you?”

“I’m not a sex worker. I’m fifteen,” he recited.

“Good. Susumu?” Zero called to where my brother was sitting on a couch.

He answered in such a rehearsed voice he could have been a robot. “I am not available right now, but I’d be happy to recommend someone else.”

“And if someone is making you uncomfortable?” Zero asked.

“Call for Kei,” they both answered.

“And if someone is touching you?”

“Yell for Daiba.”

Zero either smirked at how well he’d trained the boys or how neat he’d gotten Tadashi’s bowtie. “Very good,” he said. “Now don’t fiddle with your clothes, Tadashi. You look very nice.”

That got the kid all red-faced and beaming. Zero’s compliments had that sort of effect on everyone.

Once we complained enough to Harlock to get the A/C cranked up, we all sat around the foyer in the stuffy tuxes waiting for all the skeevy rich guys to arrive. Manabu grilled me and Dick for the best way to get clients.

“Just look cute and real available,” I said. “Be as slutty as possible.”

“Don’t do that,” Zero said.

“As long as they don’t know your last name, you’ll be fine,” Dick said. “You should play up that virgin thing. Be all innocent.”

Zero sighed. “Don’t do that either.”

Manabu rested his elbows on his knees, his chin in his palms. “Then what’s the best way to get clients, Mr. Zero?” he asked.

“Look unavailable. The clients who seek out your attention are either going to be assholes who are full of themselves or the types who will do anything for your approval. They’re easy to tell apart, and clients who want to please you are the best ones to have.”

“Yeah, but this is why you have like five clients,” I said.

“I’m old,” he grumbled. “That’s plenty for me.” We were only a few years apart.

Daiba piped in with his usual enthusiasm as he carried in a tray of full champagne flutes. “There are no good clients! They’re all disgusting.”

“Look!” Tadashi chirped as he hopped up to his brother’s side. The two looked pretty identical standing next to each other. “Mr. Zero fixed my outfit. He said I look nice.” The kid did a twirl on his heel. I was starting to think he just liked playing dress up.

“You do,” Daiba snapped, still all fired-up. “I have to go get the hours-do-overs!

Tadashi blinked. “The...the what?”

“Have we tried getting that kid some schooling?” Dick asked as Daiba stormed off.

“He can’t sit still long enough for any subject,” Zero sighed. “He’s getting better at reading though.”

If Daiba needed lessons in anything it was probably customer service. None of the men who steadily filed in wanted any of the hors d'oeuvres from the silver tray he carried. His glare was enough to run a man through.

A few of our old regulars stopped by to chat me up. They all tried to hide their disappointment when I assured them Susumu wasn’t available at the moment. When they mingled with Susumu as well, I kept an eye on him, but he brushed them off with a calm smile.

Shep wasn’t much for these sorts of showpieces, unable to chat clients up. Harlock had pulled out an old poker table for him this round, though, and Shep seemed to be having a good time, judging by the smile on his face as he let the potential clients win. Had it been a real game, he would have trashed them as easily as he did any of us, but you didn’t win any clients from animosity.

Dick, the damn snake, slipped around the room chatting up every man along the way. As soon as I shook my usual clients who had just come for the free drinks. I had a mind to do the same. I wouldn’t let him take all the good ones.

That idea lasted all of a second. A hand latched onto my arm, and I turned to see Harlock with his eye toward the door. I flicked my eyes to their corners in response. A young man stood just inside, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves. Even from across the room, I could see him swallow his nerves. There were anxious clients all the time, but I knew the look in his eyes from somewhere else - the guys who were dragged to the brothel by friends or dared.

“Who put that poor bastard up to this?” I asked, stepping closer to Harlock so we could speak low. “He barely looks Manabu’s age. Cute though.”

Harlock pretended to fix my bowtie. “I saw some evidence your government might send someone to check on you. I believe he’s the one.”

That kid? A spy? There was no way. But Harlock was rarely wrong.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked.

“Depends. I don’t like for things to get messy.” His eye flicked up to catch mine. “So do you think you could seduce him?”

I flashed a grin. “No problem, Captain.”

“Be careful,” Harlock said as I slipped past him. “Your government isn’t above sending assassins when they want to quiet something.”

The guy still hadn’t moved from his spot when I popped up beside him. “You look like a first timer,” I said.

He took a step back, eyes wide. He had damn pretty eyes, deep brown like his feathery hair. His clothes fit him well enough to show how lean he was. Likely had good muscle. Could have been a good whore if he wanted to be.

“Oh, yes,” he said, forcing the tension from his shoulders. “I was curious after hearing about this event.”

“They’re usually more fun than this, but the boss decided to be all formal this round.” I offered him my hand with a wink. “I’m Mamoru, and you are?”

“Yama,” he said. He was polite enough to try shaking my hand, but I clamped my fingers around his and leaned down to brush my lips across his knuckles.

“Nice to meet you, Yama.” I wondered if that was his real name. I’d given him mine, so it was only fair.

“Ah, thanks.” He snatched his hand away, hiding it behind his back. I couldn’t have asked for an easier target.

“So what are you into, pretty boy? Or do you need a drink first?”

“Oh, no thanks.” His voice found an even pitch, and a smile graced his features. “I’m just…”

“Browsing?” I asked with a chuckle. “Well then let me be your shopping guide.”

He was a good enough sport to cross his arms and smirk. “Very well.”

“Little boy blue over there is our resident virgin.” I gestured to Manabu, who was trying his best to not be ignored. A few men would talk to him, but they never stayed long. Poor kid.

“A virgin at a brothel?” Yama asked.

“For now. He’s got quite the price tag.”

Yama hummed in thought before responding. “I feel like having a more experienced prostitute would be better.”

“Naturally.” With a snap, I pointed to Zero. “That’s our eldest whore, but he’s very picky about clients. I can put in a good word if you’d like.”

“He’s certainly attractive,” Yama said. “But I don’t know that I could pass whatever requirements he has.”

Oh, certainly not. Zero would never take a client so young.

“If you’re looking for someone with zero standards, there’s your guy.” I waved a hand toward Dick, surrounded by enthralled men like a siren in the sea. “He’s the one you’ll want if you have more unique tastes.”

“I see,” was all Yama had to say.

“And of course there’s our resident alien. He gets the most clients.”

“He’s cute. I like his bowtie.” Yama’s eyes swept the room one more time before turning to me. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“You haven’t talked yourself up yet. Not much of a salesman.”

He’d certainly found his stride in his act. I’d met some of our spies before, and Harlock was right - of course Harlock was right. Yama was a spy. I could see it in those pretty brown eyes. Everything about his expression, voice, and stance was a lie, a mask.

I was determined to take it off.

“Well, I’m the Jack of all trades,” I said, turning to him with a bow.

“Master of none?” he shot back.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

He rolled his eyes, but I could tell by his smile he was charmed - a crack in his mask. “You should work on your sales pitch.”

“Okay, but you have to admit I’m the most attractive whore here.”

A flicker of fire appeared in his eyes. “I suppose.”

His mask fell away as easily as his clothes after that. And damn did he look good with everything off. “On your knees, pretty boy,” he panted, his lips painted from our bruising kiss. The shower steam blanketed the glass doors in a fog as the water rolled down that gorgeous, scarred skin of his.

“I thought you were the pretty boy,” I said as I followed orders.

“You were the one bragging. Aren’t you going to show me what you can do?” He threaded his fingers through my soaked hair, tugging me toward him. Like I’d ever let him have it so easily.

Instead, I grabbed his hips and trailed my tongue along the scar running across his hipbone on his left side. His hand tightened in my hair, and his hips jerked. I must have done something right.

“Why are you in such a rush?” I asked.

“Just want to shut you up,” he said. “You talk too damn much.”

“Well I am good with my mouth.” Taking his cock in my hand, I ran the flat of my tongue up the side to the tune of an appreciative hiss.

“Don’t slip,” I said. “Very dangerous in a shower.”

“Oh, shut up,” he groaned.

For all his talk, he didn’t pull my hair like someone who wanted control. He let me play with him a bit more, let me lick and suck as I pleased until his whimpers became desperate and the hot water began to tinge his skin pink. It was a good thing he was so sensitive because I wasn’t all that great at deepthroating.

Jack of all trades and all that.

“Mamoru-” He bit his lip to stop himself, but the weak thrust of his hips and the trembling of his legs said it all as I circled my tongue around the tip of his cock.

“Don’t worry,” I purred. “I won’t let you fall.”

Naturally, the easiest way to prevent that was to pick him up. I gripped his thighs tight enough to bruise, but I wanted the government to know what I’d done with their pretty little spy. Rather than protest, his arms locked around my neck without needing prompting.

“Please,” he panted. “Inside me… I want…”

“Of course, pretty boy,” I breathed against his ear as I pressed his back to the glass wall of the shower and pushed into him. The inside of his tight ass was hotter than the scalding shower water.

Every thrust chipped away at what little self control he had left, until his ankles were locked around me as well, and he was talking as dirty as any of us.

“I-I want all of you inside me,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my back. “Fill me up. M-make me your bitch, pretty boy.” Now I understood why clients like to hear nonsense like that. It made me want to fuck him harder just to hear how far he’d go, just to see his eyes roll back and that lustful smile spread across his face.

It was the first time in awhile I lost myself to a client, just let myself go. I thrust into him with the reckless abandon that said he was mine.

“Say it again,” I begged him as I neared the edge. “Say you’re my bitch.”

He was so flushed and starry-eyed that he would have said anything for me. “I’m your bitch,” he whimpered. “Oh God, I’m your bitch, pretty boy.”

I had to press myself against him to keep upright as I came, my entire body trembling. He came whimpering my name as soon as I wrapped my hand around his cock.

“Oh, you’re good,” I panted as we both settled down from the buzzing high of orgasm. “I might have to keep you.”

He was so spent that the sweet, sleepy hums were all I could get out of him until I carried him to my bed wrapped in one of my robes. He fell asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow. Harlock didn’t care much for clients spending the night because then we had to feed them breakfast, but I wouldn’t complain about getting to spoon a pretty spy for the night.

He was almost definitely overheated. His skin felt like a furnace, and I reveled in it. Dick may have gotten more guys, but I won.

Even Yama shooting up in bed the next morning with a gasp of, “Oh my God, Ezra’s going to kill me,” couldn’t dampen my spirits. Could have done without him getting up so early though.

“Shh,” I breathed, pawing for his arm. “Come back to sleep.”

But he rolled out of bed. “I’ve got to go. He’s going to kill me. Oh my God.”

“Okay, well, you come back and see me, pretty boy,” I mumbled.

Clients who requested full lineups were always trouble. I gave a list of each boy’s specialty, and most clients were happy to pick based on that. Some requested to see one or two in person before deciding, but then there were these bastards.

All the boys picked spots around the couches, some more relaxed than others, as the client eyed them like a row of produce at the grocery store. I stood by behind him, enough to the side that I could watch his face with my good eye.

Clients who requested full lineups were trouble because they thought they could have whatever they wanted. The list of each boy’s specialty also came with each boy’s boundaries. Almost every time Daiba had been called to throw a client out, he’d been one to ask for a lineup.

I had no evidence against this one. His record was fairly clean, and he could certainly afford any of the boys with the bank account I’d seen, though the way his brows pinched when he glanced at Manabu made it apparent he had some limits.

Manabu must have noticed the look, must have learned to recognize it, because his shoulders slumped. I’d also learned to hide my relief as he was passed over yet again.

Susumu sat leaned against his brother’s side. The two were whispering about something that had Mamoru smiling. They didn’t seem too interested in the client, but at least they didn’t look as bored and unimpressed as Zero. He stared the client down as though daring him to have the gall to pick anyone. Not good for business, but I wasn’t going to get onto him.

With Shep looking sleepy from his early-morning clients, Richard was the only one bothering to smile at the client. But, well, that was Richard.

Naturally, the client picked him, and his expression lit up with the gleam in his eyes. It was for the best, as the boundaries listed for Richard were…near-nonexistent.

My brother would do anything for money.

The rest of the boys dispersed with sighs and yawns, most meandering to the dining room to harass Tadas- Monono for lunch. I did, however, find myself with a tail as I headed upstairs. “Hey, Uncle Phantom?” Manabu called as he rushed to keep up with me. I had a feeling I knew what this was about.

“Yes, Manabu?”

“Do you know if Dad’s coming today? I think he has the day off.”

I sucked in air to keep from sighing. “I believe he is.”

A sideways glance showed Manabu’s expression weighted by weariness, so I reached up and ruffled his already-messy hair. “You won’t have to talk to him,” I said. “I can sick Daiba on him if need-be.”

“I don’t want him dead,” Manabu said, fighting back a smile. “But if you can get him to leave me alone, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’m not a miracle worker, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you today.” Even that much was easier said than done. I could see Manabu breathe easier at the prospect, though. He murmured a quiet thanks before darting back down the stairs toward lunch.

Leaving one trouble behind, I found a new one as I entered my office. Tadashi, who’d stolen the name from Monono and left me eternally mixed up, was climbing my shelves in an effort to dust everything. Thankfully the shelves were nailed to the wall, or everything would have come tumbling down on top of him.

For whatever reason, he was still wearing that maid uniform. I wasn’t sure why I’d bothered to get him new clothes. He’d seemed confused when I’d handed them to him. “Are these my uniform?” he’d asked.

“You don’t have a uniform,” I’d said. “You can wear whatever you like.”

Later I’d seen Daiba wearing the clothes, Tadashi still in his uniform. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected.

“I can get you a step-stool if you need one,” I called as Tadashi managed to reach the top shelf where I kept my old saber.

“I’ve got it,” he said.

“Very well. Do you need any other cleaning supplies ordered?”

“Oh yeah.” He batted at the saber with the feather duster. “Like everything.”

Honestly, that may have been a fair assessment. I could only recall buying a few cleaning tools in all the years, after Zero complained over the state of things. As I sat down to order “everything,” said-complainer popped through the door. Whatever scolding I was about to receive halted as he noticed Tadashi clinging to the shelf.

“Goodness, we’ll get you a step-stool,” Zero said as he rushed over and grabbed the boy under the arms to pry him away from the shelf.

“I’ve got it!” Tadashi insisted with a huff.

“Sure you do,” Zero said. “Now go get lunch. You’re on break.”

Tadashi looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded; then he was off like a flash. “I’ve never seen anyone quite so oblivious to a tactic to get him to leave,” I said.

Zero went over to close the door behind him. “I’ve never met anyone so eager to eat,” he said. “But I guess he is a teenage boy.”

“I know you’re still upset about it, but you’re not-”

“I know he needed the help. I know.” Heaving a sigh, he walked over and took a seat on my desk. He never would have admitted it, but he sat on my bad side or turned his back when he was upset. He never liked to give too much away. “What happens if Wataru finds out?” he asked.

“He may have the kid’s wanted poster already, but I think I can talk him down. That crime has too many inconsistencies.”

“Maybe, but he’s still going to be furious you hired another underaged boy. Might actually kill you this time.”

I smiled, resting my chin in my palm. “You didn’t, and you said you would.”

He turned enough for me to see his glare. “I considered it.”

“Come on, you’ve been begging for a maid for ages.”

“I have not! I’ve been trying to get all of you to clean for ages!”

He was a saint for attempting such a feat, but I’d ruined things with how much I spoiled the boys. “Well, now you don’t have to worry about it,” I said, hoping he’d be willing to drop the subject. “Anyway, I need you to help me make sure Wataru doesn’t bother Manabu when he comes.”

He saw through my ploy. “Don’t change the subject! And good God, Harlock, you’re asking a lot.”

“Just seduce him or something. You can do it.”

The unamused glare he sent piercing through me suggested otherwise. “That man is so oblivious he wouldn’t realize someone was hitting on him if they started stripping in front of him.”

“Do you know that from experience or-”

It wasn’t that I didn’t know what was coming. I just wasn’t fast enough to avoid it. His hand caught be around the back of the head, dragging down to slam my forehead into my keyboard. I couldn’t say it wasn’t fair, really.

“Get back to work,” he snapped. “And no more full lineups. I don’t trust those assholes.”

He left me to my throbbing head, as per usual. Monono came in later with a tray of smoked fish and rice. Since I was already buying a truckload of cleaning supplies, I asked him if he needed anything while I was at it.

“You could get some more plates and glasses. The new guy broke a lot when I let him help me do dishes. I don’t know how he did it. He just kept breaking them.” Bewildered, he shook his head. “I told him I would handle the dishes from now on.”

Tadashi worked hard, so hard that he was covered in dust and dryer lint by the end of each day. When he mopped, he somehow soaked his socks up to the knee. He was certainly one of my more reliable workers.

But he seemed to break everything. He’d shattered the vacuum on his first day, though Richard had managed to fix it into an odd Frankenstein’s monster of plastic, glue, and tape. Tadashi had gone on to knock a hole in a wall, snap off part of the stair banister, and break one of his own fingers. Daiba patched it up for him so quickly he didn’t have time to cry.

I wasn’t sure how he managed any of that, but at least the place got clean. He also had helped me weed out a few bad clients who had asked after him upon seeing him in the foyer. Daiba was quick to dispose of them.

Daiba was also quick to follow Wataru into my office after my brother slammed my door open. “What is that small girl in a dress doing downstairs?” Wataru demanded.

Before I could answer, Daiba jumped between us. “That’s my brother,” he hissed. He’d certainly invested himself in the role. “I’m looking after him.”

Realizing his mistake took some of the fire out of Wataru. “Sorry,” he said, blinking rapidly. “But that boy is clearly underage. You can’t have him-”

“He’s safer here,” Daiba said, his voice laced with venom. “I won’t let you take him.”

Wataru knew better than to fight Daiba on anything. We all knew better. Wataru put his hands up in surrender, though as he looked down at the boy, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t have a brother,” he said.

“I do now,” Daiba returned without hesitation. “Let this go.”

Wataru’s shoulders were tense with the urge to argue, but he relaxed with a slow exhale. Stepping past Daiba, he strode up to me. “The SDF sent me an update on criminals that may be in the area. There were more than usual this round, so keep your head up.”

He pulled a drive from his coat pocket and set it in front of me. This was our usual routine. He gave me confidential information, and I gave him anyone I came across on those wanted posters. “Not all my clients are criminals,” I said as I snapped the drive into my computer.

Wataru crossed his arms. “Oh, I know. You have a few rich bastards sprinkled in the mix.”

“A few bored SDF passersby too,” I murmured.

He stared down his nose at me as I flipped through the latest batch. I could usually tell based on looks alone if someone had a chance of stopping by - the ones with cockiness in their eyes. Standard petty-crime types tried to keep their heads low. Arcadia was flashy for a reason. The cocky ones always seemed lured-in by the shine.

As I neared the end of the list, my gaze caught the wanted poster I’d already seen. I kept myself from lingering on it - the photo of a smiling young boy, clearly pulled from some family album and slapped on the poster.

The name was different and his hair was longer, but it was clearly my new maid. Wataru didn’t seem to have noticed yet. I flicked my eye back up toward him. “Anything else?” I asked.

“I want you to release Manabu from his contract,” he said like a man who’d repeated the same thing dozens of times.

“No,” I returned the same way. “It’s a contract. That’s not how they work.”

Naturally, he switched to his scolding dad voice like that had ever worked with me. “Phantom.”

“Wataru,” I mocked. “If you’re done, go enjoy your day off. You know you’re not supposed to work during those.”

He crossed his arms. “I came to visit my son. Giving you the drive just happened to coincide.”

“Manabu’s busy,” I said, as though my nephew ever had a moment’s work since signing his contract. “You should come on his off-day.”

For a split second, Wataru believed my lie. Horror and rage flashed through his eyes. My death would have been quick had he not come to his senses. “I’m going to see him,” he huffed.

“No you’re not. No one sees my boys without permission.”

“He’s my boy.”

“No one owns him!” Daiba roared, startling both of us.

Daiba would fight us both if I didn’t find a way to ease the situation, not that I would mind fighting my brother myself.

“Not today, Wataru,” I said. “Leave him be for now.”

I waited for his rebuttal, but his shoulders dropped the same way his son’s had. “So he said he didn’t want to see me. Very well.”

“Any of the other boys would be happy for your company.”

He didn’t have the energy to be mad at my usual joke. “Don’t do anything stupid, Phantom,” he said with a sigh as he left. Ever untrusting, Daiba followed him out.

The silence of the room held me for a minute before I stood and left as well. Manabu’s room was empty. Instead, I found him in Zero’s violently yellow one. Sitting on Zero’s bed, Manabu sipped tea out of his usual blue mug.

“Your father left, so you can come out of hiding,” I said.

Rather than looking relieved, his brows pinched, and he stared into his mug. “Was he mad?”

“A bit. He’s always a bit mad.” Usually at me. 

Manabu’s hands tightened around the ceramic. “We always argue when he comes over. I just didn’t want to argue again.”

At his desk chair, Zero sipped something probably-alcoholic from his own mug. “He’s just worried about you.”

“I know but-!” He huffed, his shoulders scrunched up by his ears. “It’s really annoying! I can’t get laid!”

Zero and I both tried to block him out as he continued, glancing around the room as though it could protect us.

“Clients are like ‘oh, aren’t you that one guy’s son? I heard he’d kill anyone who went near you.’ Like, how does he make something like that known? Why does everyone know we’re related? We don’t look that much alike.”

They did.

“I started this job to get fucked by guys! And I haven’t been fucked by one guy! This sucks! I’m horny!”

At some point, Zero had put his face in his hands. He clearly hadn’t had enough to drink, and neither had I. The other boys talked about far more explicit things. I could deal with that, but I’d known Manabu since he was a baby.

“Uncle,” he whined. “You can get me a client, right?”

We’d already had this conversation too many times, and I rubbed my fingers across my forehead as I repeated my usual line. “We’ll get you one.” 

“Would I be more appealing if I weren’t a virgin?”

Zero whispered a scream as I threw up my hands. “I’m throwing in the towel on this conversation. Your contract says you stay a virgin ‘til- so just- I’m going to go drink.”

“Boo,” Manabu called as I skittered toward the door. “Uncle Phantom, get me a guy to sleep with, or I’ll keep telling you these things!”

“I’ll sleep with him!” I heard Mamoru yell from his room next-door to Zero’s.

“No!” I snapped at both of them, caught between the rooms. “Both of you be quiet! There are minors present!”

“Captain, it’s a brothel,” Mamoru yelled back.

“But it’s my brothel! I make the rules!”

Manabu appeared in the door-frame, leaning against it with the same unamused look in his eyes that his father got. “Do I still count as a virgin if it’s just like handjobs?”

Unable to look at him, I pointed down the hall. “No. Now go to your room. You’re in timeout.”

“Time out? You’re not my dad.”

“I’m your boss!”

“Timeout,” Zero said. Glancing up, I saw him pushing Manabu toward his room. “Off you go.”

“So is it a brothel or a daycare?” Mamoru asked as he peered out of his room. “We’ve got all the usual daycare trappings: brightly colored rooms, timeout, actual children.”

“You’re in timeout too,” I said, pushing against his head to shove him back inside.

I was far, far too sober to deal with them.

Monono found me sitting on the kitchen countertop holding a bottle of wine. He had me move my legs so he could get into the cabinets. “I need some of that for cooking, so don’t drink it all,” he said.

“Why did I hire my nephew?” I whispered.

“I dunno. It was pretty weird,” he said, examining a wok.

“His father is going to kill me.”

“Probably- Dick, put a shirt on!”

I looked up to find my other brother poking around in the fridge. He didn’t have pants on either, just his boxers, though he’d clearly showered judging by the wet hair sticking to his cheeks. “Dick, put a shirt on,” I said.

“Yeah-yeah. I’m hungry.” He pulled out an apple and took a bite. “I don’t know why you’re all stressed about hiring family,” he said between chews. “Hired me.”

“Don’t remind me.” I had actually been drunk at the time, but he’d begged me for the job just like Manabu had.

“That guy was alright,” he said. “Hope he comes back. Easy money. Did you get the new wanted list today?”

“Mm-hm,” I said through another swig of wine.

“Anyone interesting?”

“No.”

“Anyone hot?”

“Absolutely not.”

Why was all of my family like this?

Daiba walked in, looking annoyed as usual. “Hey, Captain- Dick, where the fuck are your clothes?”

“On the floor,” Dick said.

For once, Daiba reined in his urge to scream at Dick, turning back toward me. “A client showed up without warning. Should I kick his ass?”

“Not yet. If he’s new I’ll have to talk to him and do a background check.” Not that I was in the best state to do that, but I’d been worse. “Put some clothes on, Dick,” I said as I hopped down from the counter. “You can’t go around looking like that when we have clients.”

He cocked a brow and gestured at his bare torso. “But isn’t this what they’re here for?”

Clients were usually only interested in what was below the belt, but this was the last conversation I wanted to have with my brother, so I muttered another “Put some clothes on,” and headed for the foyer.

Clients came in a set few breeds I’d come to know over time. This guy was one of the rare exceptions. He sat on the longer lounge couch, wearing an easygoing smile that reached eyes the color of a fresh bruise. Susumu sat nearby, clearly charmed by whatever he was saying, or at least acting the part to earn his favor. He may have been from the same race as Shep or a related one, as his skin was about the same shade of blue, his hair blond like a wheat field. He may have been military judging from the gray uniform.

But even the occasional SDF member or soldier we got never saw fit to sit and talk with the boys. Tolerable clients saw the boys as workers, though viewing them like tools was more common. Only a handful ever treated them like people.

Manabu and Mamoru must have still been in timeout, but Zero and Shep were seated nearby as well. Shep wore his usual smile, while Zero couldn’t hide his curiosity.

“I admit, I didn’t know what to expect coming in,” the man was saying. “I heard good things, and the decor is certainly nice. The company is not bad either,  though it’s quieter than I was expecting.”

“We don’t have many clients scheduled on Mondays,” I said.

His piercing eyes shot toward me, bright with interest. “I suppose I came at the right time then. Are you the man in charge?”

“I am. You may call me Harlock.”

“Desslar,” he said with that winning smile.

Shep’s eyes widened. Zero’s jaw dropped. I shook my head. Surely not… “Abelt Desslar?”

“The Galman king?” Susumu asked.

With a soft laugh, he scratched at his cheek with a gloved hand. “Ah, it seems I’ve been found out, though ‘king’ is such a human term. I’d prefer to avoid any formalities while I’m here if that’s alright.”

“Well aren’t we moving up in the world?” Zero muttered. “Entertaining royalty along with our criminals.”

I wasn’t sure if Harlock wanted to make it obvious that he was avoiding me. But it was obvious.

He would only stay in the same room with me if everyone else was with us. Even then, he wouldn’t make eye contact, wouldn’t speak to me. I tried to think what I could have done to bring on this kind of behavior, but I’d never made much sense of Harlock or the rest of his family.

I was fine to leave Harlock to his devices. I didn’t need his approval. Didn’t need him meddling all the time. I didn’t care if he was avoiding me.

But I didn’t like being ignored for no damn reason.

“Alright, what is it?” I asked once I’d shut the office door. He’d been spending more time than usual in there in his quest to avoid me.

“What’s what?” he asked, his eye locked on his computer. I doubted there was anything to see on his monitor.

Stalking up to him, I slammed my hands down on the desk to finally draw his gaze. “You know what’s what. What happened that’s got you all moody? You’re like a little kid again. Did I do something that upset you? If I did, you’ll have to explain. I can’t read minds.”

Rather than respond, his glare matched mine. We were at our usual deadlock. Childish as I felt, I refused to let him win. He always made me like this. Always had.

The day I was introduced to him, he stared up at me with those big brown eyes, framed by unbrushed curls. Poor kid was in desperate need of a haircut. After a minute spent watching me, he pointed up between my eyes and yelled, “Your nose is real big!”

“Phantom!” Wataru scolded as my hands shot to cover my nose. “Don’t be rude!”

“It’s true?” the kid shot back.

Wataru eyed Phantom the same way my moms looked at me when I did something they didn’t like. “Excuse my brother, Warrius. He has no manners. He’s been spending too much time around my father.”

“He’s a lot younger than you,” I said as I glanced around the house. They lived downtown, and it showed. The placed seemed to be held together by yellowing wallpaper and wobbly linoleum. There were mismatched, chipped dishes stacked in the sink, much like all the different chairs at the kitchen table where we sat.

“Phantom’s thirteen years younger than me, just a few years younger than you, really.” He returned to skimming over my homework, tapping his pencil against the tabletop. “He’s my half brother, though,” he added.

I glanced between them, Wataru with his calm brown eyes and strong jaw, and Phantom with his wild hair and squishy cheeks. If not for the age gap, though, they would have looked identical. There was no sign they had different parents.

Phantom returned to scribbling crayons around some copy paper with a vengeance. His tongue stuck out to the side as he concentrated on his work. I tried to make sense of what he was drawing, but it just looked like a blob to my eyes.

“This is fine,” Wataru said with a smile as he slid the papers back to me. “I’m not sure why your moms insist on me tutoring you. You’re plenty smart, Warrius.”

I could feel my heart hammering in my throat, my cheeks burning. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

He usually came to my house to look over my work, and when he’d leave, Mom would laugh. It wasn’t her or Ma who asked for his help. It was me. He was way too old for me to have a crush on. I was just some kid to him - a high-schooler. Even back then, I knew that. I didn’t ever expect anything of it, but I would make any excuse to be around him.

After Phantom’s mom got sick, our after-school tutoring sessions moved to his house. That first day, Phantom climbed into my lap without asking and showed me his picture. “Um, it’s nice,” I said.

“Dad’s spaceship!” he said.

“Your dad has a spaceship?”

“Yes! He’s cool!”

Wataru made a noise of displeasure as he opened the fridge. “Don’t go around advertising Father,” he said. “Now do you want potatoes?”

“No! No potatoes! Macaroni!”

Wataru leaned on the fridge door as he looked back at Phantom with dull eyes. “We had macaroni yesterday.”

Phantom reached up and smacked his hand against my face. “Warr’us wants macaroni!”

“I didn’t say that,” I said as I tried to pry his hand away.

He turned around and pinned me with the angriest glare I’d ever seen from a four year-old. “Yeah-huh.”

I glared right back until Wataru startled us both with a laugh that made my face burn again. “Not a lot of people challenge Phantom like that. You can’t win. You’ll just be stuck staring at him, but I’ll give you points for trying.”

He was right. I never really won. Even now, my eyes tore from Harlock’s as he yanked open a desk drawer. I could feel him still watching me as he pulled something out and tossed it on the desk. I recognized my own handwriting, but I couldn’t recall the envelope at first. The last time I’d written any letter to Harlock was…

“My uncle dropped a stack of those off when he was here last,” Harlock said.

Ah, so it was those letters. “Hm, I wouldn’t have expected him to keep them all these years,” I said as I picked up the old, frayed paper. The top had been sliced open. I doubted Franklin was the type to read others’ mail, meaning Harlock had read through them.  “So you finally got them then?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harlock’s tone was accusing, like I’d wronged him somehow.

“What did it matter? You never got them, so it didn’t change anything. It was stupid anyhow, writing to an outlaw. Could have gotten me in so much trouble.”

As I removed the letter, I glanced up to see Harlock glowering at the wall. “I thought you hated me all that time,” he said. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“I’ve never hated you, Harlock,” I sighed.

He jolted as though I’d slapped him. Once again, he was that wide-eyed child staring at me as I unfurled the letter.

Dear Harlock,

I hope this letter finds you well and all that. See past letters for proper formalities. I’m too tired for them right now.

The last few weeks have been rough. I’ve been missing home more than ever. We lost seven men in one battle, three in another. We’ve struggled to maintain repairs while the government keeps sending us on new missions.

I don’t begrudge them for it. There aren’t enough ships. They have to send us out to meet any oncoming threats, but I haven’t gotten a proper night’s sleep in ages. We’re all starting to lose it a bit. I’ll be fine, but I really need some sleep and a good day where things aren’t on fire. I love this ship, but something is always on fire.

I’m not really cut out for my new position. It’s becoming more and more apparent that we all get promotions based on how long we’re able to stay alive out here while everyone around us dies. I wasn’t trained for the position of First Officer, so I’m always two steps behind, having to check manuals. I just hope I don’t get anyone killed because of it.

Sorry to talk so much about myself. It must get boring to hear me complain. How are you? How’s Tochiro? I hear the Deathshadow made a mess of some space wolves a while back. Some of the crew here would probably like you if you didn’t also shoot at government crafts. Seriously, stop that. We need those.

We should have a leave on Earth in two months. I’ll likely sleep through the whole thing, but I’m looking forward to it. I’ll drink some cheap wine for you while I’m there, just like old times. Take care of yourself. Don’t do anything too stupid.

Sincerely, Warrius Zero

“I remember this,” I said. “Things were awful. We were low on supplies, and I ran on coffee until I passed out at my station. I wouldn’t recommend that. You feel like death.”

“I’m sorry,” he said like the wind had been knocked out of him. “I would have written back had I known.”

I wasn’t so sure. “No need to apologize. You never got the letters, so it doesn’t matter. I’m sort of embarrassed you read them now. I did do a lot of whining.”

At least that answered one thing I’d questioned since meeting him in that infirmary. When I was on the Karyuu, I imagined he did receive everything I wrote, but I didn’t know if he read them. Why should he? In my mind, he hated me. Some letters had sentences or paragraphs scribbled out to remove my apologies over how I had let us end things.

But when I saw him in that bed, almost as pale as the bandages, he looked up at me with sorrow in his now-lone eye. “I thought you’d given up on me,” he murmured in that drugged haze.

“Believe me, I tried,” I said. “But you’re a hard man to ignore.”

His eye searched me for answers, still sharp despite the fog over it. “Why are you here now? After all this time?”

“My ship’s gone too. My family...” The Machine Men’s all-out attack had taken everything. Even if I could have brought myself to work under them, they kept insisting I get a machine body. Either that, or I had to accept the mission to capture Harlock. I accepted to keep my humanity, and because I needed to know why Harlock hadn’t protected the Earth. The answer was that he had. He’d tried to, but he never got that far.

“We’re in the same boat,” I said as I brushed a few strands of hair from his face. “I’m an enemy of the government now. And your father asked me to look after you.”

His expression darkened at the mention of his father, the same way Wataru’s used to. “If you’re just doing this for him, why avoid me for so long? I wasn’t worth looking after then? Just now that I don’t have other people to look after me for you?”

My mouth was left partially open as I stopped myself from asking about the letters. I’d never abandoned him, but then, maybe letters weren’t enough. So I said nothing, unaware he’d never received them.

We stuck together because we were all we had left. He sulked for a while, missing his ship, his friends. I couldn’t say I was any better. I didn’t spend a single day sober for months.

If I’d been sober, he wouldn’t have come up with this stupid, insane brothel idea in the first place. I woke up to a raging headache, a spotty memory, and him sitting naked in bed beside me ranting about this amazing idea he had.

I had so many regrets in my life that I could have amassed an army out of them, but that night would have been one of my generals.

Perhaps everything would have turned out differently if he’d received my letters. Likely not, but the way he looked at them made me wonder. When I handed the envelope back to him, he took it as though it might crumble in his fingers.

“Well, with that out of the way, you can quit getting all anxious around me,” I said, still not sure why he’d reacted so oddly to receiving them. “Get some rest too. You look like you could use some sleep.”

He didn’t say anything as I turned and walked out, but I took a quick glance at him as I closed the door, still holding the letter, looking even more exhausted than before.

We were both so young then. Just stupid kids, too young to be fighting wars, too young to see so much death. I wished he would forgive himself, that stupid kid he used to be. That kid didn’t deserve all the blame Harlock placed on him. Just a boy trying to fill his father’s shoes. I couldn’t blame him for that.

But I could and would blame him for this terrible brothel filled with too many kids. Even Manabu was much too young for this, but Daiba and Tadashi were hardly teenagers! And I didn’t even want to think about Monono.

As I started back toward my room, I heard chattering from down the hall. Manabu’s door was open. No one was supposed to be alone with Manabu, so I had to check, even if it was a stupid rule.

“Manabu, please stop,” I heard as I neared. The voice definitely did not belong to any of our boys. No, it sounds like… Schwanhelt. Poor man was probably doing Wataru’s bidding again.

“But I’m attractive, right?” Manabu asked.

“S-sure. I mean- I don’t know, Manabu!”

“If you didn’t know me or my dad, you’d sleep with me, right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know you!”

“Well, that wasn’t a no.”

I turned at the doorframe to find Schwanhelt standing with his face in his hands beside the doorway. Manabu sat cross-legged on the bed. He’d undone his bowtie and the top button of his shirt. Subtlety was not this boy’s strong suit.

“Manabu, you know you’re not allowed to be alone with other men,” I said.

He flashed a grin. “Of course. Only you, Mr. Zero.”

My unamused glare only made his eyes shine. He’d been spending too much time around the other boys. They were bad influences.

“But the door was open,” he continued, “So I wasn’t really alone.”

“That’s not how it works,” I said as I grabbed Schwanhelt by the arm. “Sorry, Manabu, but...good attempt, I guess.”

That was enough to keep him from pouting as I dragged Schwanhelt away. The poor man still had a hand plastered to his face. “Ah, thanks, Warrius. I just need to...sit down somewhere for a while. If I could just…”

Schwanhelt lied about as well as most of the SDF - poorly. “Come here,” I said through a sigh, pulling him into my room. “God, you have it hard-up for that boy, don’t you?”

“I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.”

“Convincing,” I drawled. “Do you use this same method on Wataru? I’m sure he really falls for the part where you hide your eyes.”

That got him to look at me. “You can’t tell him! Oh God, I’ve done enough to hurt that family. I can’t have feelings for Manabu after everything that’s happened. I can’t.”

There was no point in treading old waters and trying to convince him what happened wasn’t his fault. He had to work that out on his own. But I wasn’t so bad a friend as to let him go so anxious and, well…

“Schwan, just sleep with me,” I said.

He froze. I could almost see the sirens spinning around in his head. “W-what, Warrius, I can’t-”

“It’ll relieve some tension,” I said. “Come on, Schwan, when’s the last time you had an orgasm?”

He blushed from his neck to his ears. Honestly, Schwanhelt was adorable. The uniform didn’t help. I was a sucker for those uniforms.

But coming right off from dealing with Manabu, he was a mess. “I-I can’t afford- I’m sorry-”

“I won’t charge you,” I said. “If you’re not up for it, it’s okay. I’ll leave, and you can hide out in here for a bit. It’s up to you.”

He stood in silence, a war behind his eyes. When he moved, it was for the door. Manabu really had his work cut out for him if he wanted to catch this one, I thought until Schwanhelt locked the door.

“Okay,” he said in a whisper.

He’d obviously never done this before. “You’ll have to be more explicit than that.”

His cheeks tinged red again. “Explicit? God, what do I need to say? Can’t we just get on with it?”

I shrugged. “That works.”

His back hit the door as I pushed up against him, locking our lips. He whimpered his contentment against me as I pressed my leg between his. Manabu had been more successful than he may have realized, and Schwan was quick to grind himself against my thigh. His hands locked onto the arm loops of my vest, pulling me in closer.

He tasted of strong coffee and desperation. His movements were all quick but strong. I let him take over the kiss, his chest heaving as he toyed with my tongue. By the time he pulled back for air, there was a line of saliva running from the corner of his mouth.

I breathed a laugh into his neck, peppering kisses up to his jaw. “Poor thing,” I said. “You have been neglecting yourself.”

“Warrius,” he groaned, now clawing at my back. “God, I need you.”

“How would you like this to go?” I asked before placing a gentle bite to his ear.

He stuttered a gasp. “I-I don’t know. Damn, don’t make me think now.”

I decided to make it easy for him. “Fast or slow?”

“Ahh, damn. F-fast. I can’t wait.”

“So impatient,” I laughed. “Do you want to go all the way, or do you just want me to suck you off?”

His hand returned to his face. “Fuck, don’t make me answer that.”

“So you want to go all the way.”

The stressed sound he made was enough of a confirmation.

“Top or bottom?”

“I-I don’t know!”

Again, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ahead and top this round.” Preparing him to bottom would add time, and he was suffering enough.

He whined his agreement as I pulled him back toward the bed with one hand and unbuttoned my vest with the other. By the time the back of my knees hit the bed, I had my shirt halfway undone as well. As I fell back, I pulled him down with me. He caught himself, his face flushed as he hung over me. His eyes fell to my bare chest, and he swallowed.

“You still doing okay?” I asked.

He did manage a smile then, if a shy one. “Yes, sorry. I’m not very good at this.”

“You’re doing fine,” I said as I placed my hands to his cheeks. “You will have to take something off to make this work though. Condoms are in the nightstand, of course, unless you want to fool around some more.”

“Ah, I wish I could,” he said, standing back up to take off his jacket while I finished removing my shirt. I went ahead and took off my shoes, pants, and boxers too while he fiddled with whatever weird undersuit came with those uniforms.

“Sorry-sorry,” he mumbled, as he partially tried to cover himself. His boxers really couldn’t hide anything, not that he had any reason to be so stressed. I was more exposed than he was.  

“It’s fine. I like a good show.” With him all flustered, I reached over and fished a condom out of the drawer myself, tearing it open with me teeth. “Come ‘ere,” I said around the plastic.

He leaned in as I spit the wrapper away, and I wrapped my hand around the back of his head to pull him in for another kiss. Clients didn’t kiss much, so it was more for me than him. He hummed and moaned sweetly into the kiss as it deepened. It also made him sink closer toward me, until I could yank down his boxers.

His breath hitched as I pulled from the kiss and moved to his neck. WIthout the collar of his shirt in the way, I could press soft love bites to his shoulder as I rolled the condom over his cock.

“Warrius,” he whimpered. His arms trembled as they held him up over me.

“Relax,” I breathed as I reached back over to my nightstand. “You feeling good?”

“God, yes. You’re amazing, Warrius.”

That sent a pleased shiver up my spine that made my toes curl. “Thank you. Now don’t lose yourself yet, alright?”

What started as a confused hum ended with him choking in surprise as I worked some lube over his cock. “Fuck,” he hissed. Before his arms could give out, I released him and leaned back, wiping what was left of the lube on my own half-hard cock. I was going to ask if he wanted me to turn over, but it seemed not. Grabbing my hips, he put one knee on the bed and lifted me up. I pulled one leg up to rest over his shoulder. Rare to have a client who didn’t want me face-down, but then again, he wasn’t a proper client.

Even rarer to have a client suddenly look so concerned. “A-are you prepared?” he asked.

I bit my lip to stifle a laugh. “Schwan, babe, I do this every day. As long as there’s lube, I can handle it.”

Still looking a bit nervous, he leaned in enough to kiss me somewhere between my eyelid and my nose. He must have missed wherever he’d intended to kiss me because he was too busy trying to hold himself together while pushing his cock inside me.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers pressed tight to my hips.

Unlike him, I gave in with a gasp and a sigh, grasping for the sheets. God, he was so hot inside me. It made my whole body pulse. I needed him to let go too. I needed the rush and the heat. “Schwan,” I said as I fought to keep my hips from rolling. “Please fuck me.”

He choked as he tried to suck in air, but he was quick to give me what I asked. His hips pulled back and rocked into mine as he gasped my name. Then again. Again. Always with my name.

“That’s good,” I purred as my eyes rolled back. My body writhed without my permission, but I let it for once. “More, Schwan. Harder.” My chest rose and fell with each of my gasping breaths. “Faster.”

He gave a growl as he picked up his pace, as lost as I was in the pleasure. Only years of habit kept me talking.

“So good,” I moaned, gnawing my lower lip. “So hot.” It felt so damn close to heaven to be filled like that, and so damn close to hell to be on fire from the inside out. My back arched toward him as his pace became frantic. I loved drowning in his power, feeling the bed shake just like I did.

Through half-lidded eyes, I admired his smooth shoulders and chest. His muscles strained with every snap of his hips. Damn, he looked good. He could have moonlighted at the brothel if he wanted.

His voice was ragged when he finally strung together something coherent. “Oh god, Warrius. Fuck, I’m going to come.”

“Go ahead,” I panted. Before I could wrap my hand around my cock for my own release, his hand took my place, his thumb circling the head until he had me melting with weak whimpers, my hands fisted in the sheets. “Schwanhelt, more,” I begged.

Sweet as he was, he pumped my cock as his thrusts became erratic. I felt his whole form tremble as he came, riding out his orgasm with a few shallow thrusts. Only then did I let myself fall over the edge. The writhing pleasure in my gut became pulses of ecstasy as I came across my stomach. “S-Schwan,” I said through fragmented gasps.

As the pleasure faded, my body went slack. I bathed in the feeling of exhaustion and contentment, listening to Schwanhelt catch his breath. “Fuck, Warrius,” he said as he pulled out. “That was good.”

I hummed in response. I hadn’t had two rounds in one day in a while. I only had five clients a week, so I was pretty well worn out.

“Is this the part where I leave?” he asked.

My body shook with a silent laugh. “You’re welcome to join me for a shower,” I said. My body protested as I sat up, though I’d never listened to its complaints before, and I wouldn’t now. “And thanks, Schwanhelt, that was nice.”

Even conscious, Daiba stuck close. He didn’t cling as much, but he followed me or Harlock around wherever we went. When I asked him why he had any interest in me when we’d just met a few days before, he stared and cocked his head to the side.

“I don’t know,” he answered as I was starting to feel anxious under his gaze. “Anyway, we’re the same blood, so it’s normal.”

I wasn’t so sure, but he had some centuries on me. He would know more about being a vampire. Plus, I learned right away that arguing with Daiba was pointless.

I had hoped he would have found somewhere else to sleep once he was back to himself. Sure, the ship was full, but Harlock’s offer to get him his own bed was shot down.

“I can sleep with you,” he said.

“Well, it’s just, Yama and I are getting married,” Harlock attempted. Actually, we were already married, but we hadn’t mentioned that to anyone else.

Daiba gave him the same stare he gave me, eyes sharp and obstinate. “Yeah?”

Harlock and I both had to back down. I wasn’t sure how to handle him when he wasn’t feral, and Harlock looked far too stressed to go into detail.

I didn’t mind him sharing our bed exactly, but I couldn’t press myself to Harlock with him between us. I liked Daiba. I really did. He was cute and sweet and usually grumpy for no reason, but I just… I…

I really needed some alone time with my husband.

But I couldn’t just kick Daiba out, not after all he’d been through, not after he woke us both up with desperate sobs and gasps for air. I was so startled and groggy at the time that I could only watch as Harlock tried to reach out for him, only for Daiba to scream and cower against me. Harlock froze. Pain bled into his eye. He was blaming himself again.

“Daiba,” I called, as I wrapped my arms around him. He trembled as though fighting off the cold, his gaze lost to the past. “You’re alright. We’ve got you. You’re on the Arcadia. No one’s going to hurt you.” I breathed whatever comforts I could and rocked him until exhaustion claimed him, and he fell back asleep.

If he remembered what happened when we woke again at nightfall, he didn’t want to talk about it. He rolled out of bed, stretching every-which-way like a cat in a sunbeam. “I’m thirsty,” he grumbled as usual. “Can we go get some fresh blood today? I’m tired of this gross, stored stuff.”

“No,” Harlock said, not bothering to hide how his eye flicked over Daiba. “Scouts say Promethium will arrive today. We’re not going anywhere. I want everyone to be prepared”

“Prepared for what?” I asked.

He breathed a near-silent sigh before answering. “War.”

Daiba remained unfazed, but surely he felt my heart hammering. “War!?” I squawked. “What for?”

Harlock shook his head. “It’s just a precaution, Yama. It’s unlikely anything will happen, but I won’t take any chances. Promethium doesn’t like having to split her power with the other lords. She’s been vying for control longer than I’ve been alive, and I’m certain Faust was in her pocket. I took away some of her control, and she won’t be pleased with me. I won’t lie to you. She is intimidating. Try not to let her get the best of you. Avoid her if you can. I doubt I’ll have anything to say to her in private, so you shouldn’t need to carry any messages to her second either. I’m just hoping the meeting will be quick.”

“It had better be,” Daiba said. His shoulders were scrunched by his ears, his arms crossed. It would be the first time he’d be away from us both since Harlock found us.

Again, I found Harlock examining him as though he were a book that could be read. A sense of unease hit me, creeping up my spine and scratching at my chest. Just as I started to say how we should go up to deck, Harlock spoke over me.

“Daiba, I need to know what happened when you were held captive.”

Daiba’s expression flipped to a snarl. His eyes never left the floor as he spoke, icy and slow. “I don’t remember.”

When even I could tell he was lying, he was doing a bad job.

Harlock took a step toward him. “Daiba-”

“You don’t need to know,” Daiba corrected him. When his eyes snapped up, they pinned Harlock’s feet to the floor. “And I don’t remember, so it doesn’t matter now.” He spun on his heel and snagged me by the wrist. “Come on, Yama, I’m starving.”

I felt I needed to say something. “Ah, but-!” But what? I had nothing to fix the rift between them. In the end, I let myself be led away as Harlock remained in the room, looking as though he didn’t know where he was.

Daiba settled us both in the galley, his glare now fixed on the table. Tadashi served us our glasses between games of chasing Mii-kun from the kitchen. One round, my cat somehow carried out as fish as Tadashi threatened his life. Judging by the yells from the hall, Meowdar came to my cat’s rescue.

As I leaned toward the open door, trying to see what was going on, Daiba spoke with a melancholy in his voice that sliced through my heart. “Captain just wants to hurt himself,” he said. “Only wants to know what happened so he can wallow in guilt.”

I looked back to find Daiba swirling the blood around in his glass, his eyes showing his age for the first time. “I think he just wants to know about his brother,” I said. “He didn’t realize there was anything left of Dick. Maybe he just wants to…” I let the thought trail off as Daiba shook his head.

“He wants to know what happened to me. Even if I told him about when Dick was aware and in control, that would only hurt him more. He just wants to blame himself, and I won’t let him.”

Swallowing my anxiety, I asked the question I wanted the answer to as well. “How much do you remember?”

“Everything,” he whispered.

That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible because it was too painful. Daiba didn’t deserve something like that. “What?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice down. “But when you’re feral-”

“I’ve always remembered. I remember how I died too, but Captain didn’t want to hurt Dick, and I didn’t want to hurt either of them. When Captain lied, I went along with him. It was for the best. Well, I guess it wasn’t. We should have been more careful with Dick.

“After Gido captured me, I didn’t last long conscious. It was killing people that made me lose it. I couldn’t handle it, so I let myself go feral. At first, it was like I was sleeping. It was like I’d let someone else take over, but then I realized I could open my eyes. The other me still controlled my body. I always felt I could take back over if I wanted to, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. There were only a couple times…”

His features softened with sorrow. I didn’t like the way sadness looked on him. Anger fit him, but this felt wrong. “Sometimes Dick would try to apologize to me,” he continued. “He’d go up to the bars of the cage and let it melt his skin just so he could reach through and try to touch me. My feral side would back away, afraid of Gido, but I would take over enough that I could go up to him. It was exhausting, though. I couldn’t maintain it for long. And it didn’t make a difference if Gido had hypnotized me.”

He looked back to me. “Do you remember? I was the one who tried to kill you. I was the one who threw holy water on Tadashi.”

My eyes shot wide. “I-I didn’t see,” I stammered. “I never realized… But it wasn’t you! You were under Gido’s control.”

Daiba finished his drink and continued frowning as he set the glass down. “Gido really liked that idea,” he said, “using Harlock’s old newblood to kill his new one. Glad it didn’t pan out. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I’d hurt you.”

But the look in his eyes was the same as Harlock’s. He did blame himself. For what, I couldn’t imagine, but I put my arms around him and pulled him close just like when he had the nightmare. “You protected me, Daiba,” I whispered into his hair. He smelled much like Harlock with a dusty tinge like charcoal. “I was so scared, but you did your best to comfort me and keep me safe. Thank you for that. I don’t care what happened when you were under his control. None of that was your fault. In my eyes, you’ve done nothing but take care of me.”

His hands balled into the back of my shirt as he buried his face in my shoulder. “Yama,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Come back, okay? You and Captain both. I’m so scared I’ll wake up back in that cell again. I’m so scared you’re a dream.”

He was more nervous about the meeting than I was. My poor little Daiba. “We’ll be right back, safe and sound,” I said, pulling back so he would raise his head. Placing my hands to his cheeks, I pressed my forehead to his. “See? I’m right here. I’ve got you. While we’re gone, you make sure Tadashi doesn’t kill my cat, alright?”

His brows knit as he looked me in the eye, and  a spark of determination flashed in his gaze.

I thought it was a good sign until he tilted his head and kissed me.

“Don’t be nervous, Yama. You already know most of the other lords, and they’ll keep things together.”

Still, he kept fidgeting, rubbing his hand across his mouth and leaning from one foot to the other. I was starting to worry I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on him by making him my second.

“Yama, if you-”

He finally looked at me for the first time since nightfall, his heart hammering in my chest. “Daiba kissed me,” he said.

Wait. 

I blinked at him as he stood there looking ready to lose his mind. “Is that what you’ve been worried about?” I asked.

“Yes!” 

He yelled loud enough that the other lords across the deck glanced over for a moment. We had to meet on Promethium’s daunting ship, as she was the eldest among us, but there was a palpable tension from every one of us.

And then there was Yama, red-faced with his hands slapped over his mouth.

“I’m kind of surprised it took Daiba this long,” I said. “He’s not good at hiding his feelings. He clearly loves you.”

Yama leaned in close and lowered his voice. “But he kissed me. We’re married, Harlock.”

This time all the other lords stared at me as I broke into a laugh. “I suppose we haven’t set ground rules, so it makes sense for you to be so nervous. If you don’t want him to kiss you anymore, just let him know, but I’m not opposed to you two exchanging affection. If you didn’t notice how Wataru and his wife acted, many vampires have open relationships. I can’t say I like the idea of sharing you with any strangers, but I’d be happy if you and Daiba were close. You’re the only person I’ve ever seen able to control him at all.”

Yama stood limp like a stringless puppet. Perhaps this was too much for the church boy’s mind all at once.

“So you’re not mad?” he asked.

“No. Do you want me to be?”

“No.”

“Would you be interested in pursuing a relationship with Daiba, or did you need me to tell him to back off?”

The more he thought about it, the more his expression became troubled. I was starting to think he wasn’t in the best mindset to join the meeting. I would need to calm him down quickly. As much as I would have liked to do so by drowning him in affection, this wasn’t the place for it. Seemed I didn’t have any place for it as of late.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “I just met Daiba. And isn’t that being unfaithful?”

“Not if I know about it and say it’s fine. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Yama. Except this meeting. We both have to do this.”

He took a deep breath and released it with a sigh, allowing the tension to ease from his shoulders. “You’re right,” he said.

“I know. I’m always right.”

That got an unimpressed glare out of him. I had to fight not to smile, but he must have seen the amusement in my face regardless. “So how much longer will we be waiting up here?” he asked, crossing his arms. “She’s already had us waiting for ages.”

“Her second said they were setting up the meeting room. She may just be getting dressed. I don’t know.” Promethium had always been one for dramatics. Every time I’d seen her, she wore a crown made of some shining red stone and a dress dark as the void. Rumor had it that she had been a queen of some old empire as a human, but I had a feeling she started that rumor herself.

“That was her second?” Yama asked. “The one with the weird green hair? How is his hair that color anyway? Are there people with green hair?”

“I hear dryads have green hair. Maybe he’s part fae. Who knows?”

Judging by the way his fingers were tapping in annoyance, Yama didn’t believe me. There was still much I needed to show him.

“Or he could dye it,” I said, “but yes, Wataru informed me earlier that he’s Promethium’s second - Daisuke Yamori.” He reminded me a bit of Daiba with the fluffy hair and annoyed expression. He had a few inches on Daiba though.

“Wataru said he’s got quite the temper,” I added, “so try not to pay him too much mind. If anyone bothers you, I’ll step in.”

Yama muttered something about how he could handle himself, and truly, if anyone was going to draw any ire, it would be my father. In the few meetings I’d attended, he’d always gotten the most glares, even when we all hated Promethium far more.

But while I was at it, it seemed like a good idea to do some proper introductions. 

“Just so you’re not going in blind, Wataru is known for becoming furious at these meetings.” I glanced toward him so Yama would follow my gaze to where my brother stood. “If he goes quiet and you can feel his heart strongly, that’s our cue to avoid him. I’ve never seen him use that boy Bulge as a second before, so I can’t speak for how he’ll act. Seems like a fairly loyal guard dog.

“My father doesn’t use a second.” Again, I used my eye to point to where he stood alone, leaning on the rail. “Likely what gets him in trouble, but he’s too honest to pass notes like a school child.

“You know Zero.” I nodded toward where he leaned against the mast. Emotions flashed like a storm in Yama’s eyes when he looked to the captain. “He doesn’t act much different at meetings. His second, Marina, is so by-the-book she may be the only one who tries to make the meetings run like meetings.”

I used a twitch of my head to gesture to the woman not far to my left. “That’s Emeraldas. I’m sure you’ve heard about her.”

Yama’s brows shot up as he looked at her. “She’s pretty,” he said. “Isn’t that Tochiro’s girlfriend or something?”

“Or something is more accurate,” I said. Tochiro stood at her side with starry-eyed awe. I would have gotten onto Yama for suggesting the two weren’t a good fit, but honestly, everyone reacted that way. “She won’t talk much, but she may make use of Tochiro as her second often. She likes to do everything behind Promethium’s back. I guess I should mention beforehand - don’t be surprised by how similar they look.”

“Why’s that?” Yama asked.

But I shook my head. I didn’t have time to get into family history, and even if I tried, Emeraldas would sense me telling stories that weren’t mine and would come kick me off the ship. Quite literally.

Yama didn’t press the question, though I could sense his curiosity. He would need to keep a handle on that. The meetings often brought out old grudges.

“The other two groups are wild cards for me,” I said. “The Kodais aren’t even oldbloods. I can’t imagine how Mamoru came to be a lord.” Though considering this was Mamoru’s first meeting as a lord, he may have just lucked into the title. I doubted he would hold it long.

“How can you tell?” Yama asked. “Everyone else always seems to know how old a vampire is. I don’t get it.”

“You’re still a bit young, but you learn to sense it in the air around them. You can feel how old they are by the way the air resonates. Even you’ll be able to feel it around Promethium. She’s ancient, but the Kodais hardly have an aura. I’m not certain they’ve hit their first century.”

“What about Leopard?” Yama asked. “He looks nervous.”

Nervous was a nice way of saying it. Leopard looked like he was close to passing out. Even from across the deck, I could see him trying to keep control of his breath. If he weren’t careful, Promethium would take advantage of his fear.

“It’s his first meeting as a lord,” I said. The first time I met him was as Promethium’s second, all hardened eyes and stiff posture. When he betrayed her, the whole vampire community buzzed with shock. I was still just amazed he’d come out of it alive.

The rest of us excepting Kodai had promised to look after him in the meeting, though we hadn’t told him as much.

“I don’t know his second,” I said before Yama could ask. He was an older-looking man with dark facial hair and a calm, stern demeanor. Perhaps he could keep Leopard stable.

Yama returned to fidgeting with his clothes, new formal wear we’d commissioned. I may have gone overboard, but the shimmering green fabric I’d insisted on for the vest looked so nice on him that I really wanted it off. He kept tugging at his sleeves though, trying to make everything look smooth.

I let him try to work out his nerves for a minute before I stepped in front of him and adjusted his vest and sleeves myself. “You look fine,” I said as I tucked a stray bit of his bangs behind his ear. “We should get you a haircut though. You’re starting to look like Daiba.”

“Like you have any room to talk,” he muttered. The soft smile that graced his features left me hard-pressed not to kiss him. I made do with returning to his side and pressing close to him. He let his hand fall, so I laced our fingers together and listened to the waves wash along the ship’s sides until Yamori reappeared on deck. He seemed to think he had somewhere better to be. “Come on,” he called. “Time to get started.” Without waiting to see if we’d follow, he headed back into the dark belly of ship.

I didn’t need to look around to see the annoyance the others had for him. Irritation radiated through the air despite Mamoru’s chirp of “He seems fun.”

Promethium had gotten a new ship since last I sat in on a meeting, but this one was just as much of a fortress as the last. The outside had a wall of cannons as long as the horizon. The inside looked a maze, though all we did was traverse the steps. Down and down into the belly of the beast.

Yama drew in a sharp breath when he must have sensed Promethium. She was like a weight against my chest, so I could only imagine how Yama felt. This whole show was for her own benefit - placing the meeting at the base of her ship, making us all walk in to find her already perched at the head of the table.

Her expression was too calm to give anything away, too cold for any shred of comfort.

Honestly, the whole thing just reminded me how annoying and boring the meetings were. I should have skipped out on this one like I always had before. Plopping down in the nearest seat of the massive, round table, I crossed my legs and wondered why there was never any wine at these things.

Wataru and my father bit the bullet and took the seats on either side of Promethium. Undoubtedly, no one else would touch them. That landed me with Mamoru on my right side and Leopard on my left.

Yama stood to my right, slightly behind me, following the example of all the other seconds. Poor Tochiro wasn’t much taller than the table, and Yamori still looked like he’d rather be napping. Couldn’t say I blamed him.

“It has been awhile since there were any new faces at a meeting,” Promethium said. She never let emotions touch her voice when she spoke. Maybe she didn’t have any. “And I cannot recall the last time we had so many new lords at once.”

“Phantom’s not really new,” Father offered.

“True,” she said. “Neither is Leopard.”

Through some impossible courage or combination of drugs and alcohol, Leopard maintained an even stare with her as she looked to him. Luckily, he didn’t have to hold it long as Mamoru made his chipper attitude known.

“I am actually new,” he said, chin in his hand as he leaned against the table. “I didn’t get to introduce myself to you yet, ma’am, but I’m Mamoru Kodai.”

“I see.”

Not put off by her response, Mamoru kept his smile. There was no way this boy had come across a Piece by legitimate means. Still, I found myself unable to dislike him, no matter how hard I tried.

Emeraldas cut off any further chatter in an even voice with an underscore of malice. “If the formalities are over, let us get to the matter at hand. Why did you call this meeting?”

“So many lords gathered in one area, and you expect me not to?”

“Surely you could make sense of what happened through your networks,” Wataru said. “Given that so many of us are of the same blood, I don’t find it unreasonable that we would meet.”

“Yes, three of you,” she said. “Four if you count the dead.”

My whole body bristled with the urge to snap at her. She couldn’t even bother to recall his name. Yama must have felt the angry pulse of my heart because his fingers brushed my arm - just for an instant as he raised his hand to swipe at his nose. Not as subtle as he may have hoped, but it was enough to calm me.

“But you involved others,” she continued, “and though Leopard now holds the Piece, I heard nothing of a proper challenge. It seems to me you overstepped your bounds as lords.”

Her eyes were on me now. Though she pretended to speak to all of us, she wanted me to answer. Fair enough. I would take her challenge.

“Gido initiated a challenge against myself, Wataru, and my father when he sent hypnotized men after us in an attempt to bring us harm.”

“And you have proof these men were hypnotized by him?” she asked.

“You think I wouldn’t recognize the work of my own blood?”

“A weak excuse. By all accounts, you used the other lords to corner and kill another without proper reason or procedure. That is overstepping your bounds.”

I sensed Susumu move to Yama’s side and heard him whisper something into my second’s ear, but I paid them no mind. “If you want the absolute truth,” I said, “Gido killed himself by sunlight. It was not my doing.”

“There is no proof of such allegations. Regardless, he would not have done so had you not intervened.” She loved going to bat for anyone if it meant getting another lord in trouble. She was gunning for an excuse to be allowed to execute me herself. That was the price of meddling in another lord’s affairs. The more she tried to corner me, the more my blood boiled. She knew nothing.

Before I could respond, Yama leaned in and whispered, “Mamoru wants to speak for you. I believe the quote was. ‘Let me shut her up.’”

If he wanted to dig his grave with me, I wouldn’t stop him. Curiosity more than anything led me to turn to him and nod. He flashed me a grin that eased to a polite smile as he looked to Promethium.

“Ma’am, I know the statues of the lords are considered high authority, but are you suggesting they trump the old laws that govern how sires may oversee their newboolds? I have read both written law sets, and the lord set says nothing on the matter of lords being of the same blood. Rather, it states that the old laws should not be trampled on in any way that would benefit the lords exclusively. And, well, old law makes it apparent that sires can kill their newbloods if the newbloods go berserk or are dangerous.”

Promethium said nothing. None of us had anything to say. Even Emeraldas couldn’t hide her surprise. The cogs in Father’s head were spinning as he tried to recall the old books. He and Promethium were the only ones I’d known to actually read them.

Damn, I did like this weird kid.

The hush over the room broke when Yamori yawned, and we remembered we were able to speak.

“What else is on the agenda?” Emeraldas asked.

Promethium snapped her eyes onto Zero like a set of fangs. “I was told you turned a hunter.”

Zero had just finished folding a piece of paper he handed to Marina. “I did,” he answered, his brows pinched.

“Why?” she asked. I wondered if she felt disdain or curiosity or anything at all.

“That is a long story, and while I see no reason why you should need to hear it, you have no need to be concerned of him. I’ll admit to my reasons being largely motivated by spite. I wanted him to have to experience being on the other side. He’s entirely harmless, though.”

The folded note moved to Wataru, who didn’t have anything to write with, so he used his fang to pierce the pad of his thumb. Using the blood like an inkwell, his fingernail scratched some response into the page, no doubt in some code.

“You don’t think he may inform other hunters of what he learns?” Promethium asked. “I do not fear him, but perhaps you should.”

“He can’t even walk,” Zero said. “If he still wants me dead after all that has happened and finds a way to kill me, so be it.”

The note skipped to Father, who must have forgotten the code because he stared at it for a while before responding. Then to Emeraldas. Then Leopard, who didn’t write anything. Then me.

As Promethium continued interrogating Zero, I unfolded the note. It was an old code, but it was a pirate code, explaining why Leopard couldn’t respond. Promethium considered herself above a pirate, and he’d served under her. Undoubtedly Zero had only allowed Leopard to look at the note to make sure she couldn’t decode it if she cared to.

As I skimmed the page, I fought to keep my face placid.

Why is this ship so quiet? Where is her crew?

She must have one. Did they make port and clear the ship?

What port could they have docked at? We would have seen them.

Perhaps she has kept them hidden on the ship to mask her numbers. She does not like to give away information. She may be expecting this meeting to end poorly.

Unprepared like the rest of my family, I responded as Wataru had - in my blood. Maybe she was hoping for a war and that was why she challenged me. If any of you had sided with me or challenged her, she may have considered that grounds to attack our ships.

I folded it back and handed it to Marina, who skipped over a disappointed Mamoru. I couldn’t rule out the possibility that Promethium would find another excuse to attack. She did seem to be stalling.

But Zero was getting tired of it. I doubted reading through our responses helped matters, but he did well to keep his expression even. “Honestly, Promethium, enough digging into my affairs,” he said. “We should move to a topic that actually matters, like passing some sort of law regarding the limits of hypnosis and punishments for going overboard. There are surely more vampires with abilities like Gido.”

“You speak out of turn,” she said.

“Not really. It was my turn to speak, and I was done with that topic. Until we can all agree on some mythical, unbiased moderator, I don’t see why we can’t start a new topic when it’s already our turn.”

People didn’t challenge Promethium often. I suppose Zero lost the ability to care when he lost his arm. Before she could cut into him with some lecture, I heard a whisper behind me. “Ah, my cat!”

My heart shot out of my chest when Promethium’s gaze flicked to Yama. I turned toward him in hopes that he would look to me, but he maintained Promethium’s stare. “Did you speak, Second?” she asked.

Yama should have looked frightened, but all I could piece from his quick heartbeat and reddened cheeks was embarrassment. Either he’d learned to be an actor overnight, or he didn’t realize what a mistake he’d made. Either way, he was killing me slowly. I was dying from stress. Yama needed to stop making a habit of that.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I was just thinking that my cat is really finicky and unbiased. He would make a good moderator. You could have whoever is able to get him to come to them the one with speaking power.”

He still wouldn’t look at me, and I couldn’t speak out of turn as well, or Promethium would jump down my throat. Dammit, Yama, look at me! You’re killing me! You’re murdering your husband!

“Your…cat,” Promethium echoed.

With my focus on Yama, I saw his eyes go wide, so I turned back to Promethium.

She was smiling. Almost like a real person. It was just the smallest curl of her lips, but none of us could hide our surprise. Father kept blinking, and Emeraldas had one brow raised. If even the oldest among us had never seen this, I wasn’t sure whether to be happy for Yama or concerned for his life.

Perhaps it was all just a group hallucination. The smile vanished without a trace as she spoke again. “Second, is it true you were raised in a church?”

Yama’s brows pinched, but his voice remained even. “That’s right.”

“And you were a hunter?”

“I was raised to be a hunter, but I never became one. I didn’t have the stomach for it.”

“I see.”

Though I didn’t care for her sudden interest in Yama, there was little I could do. Seconds could contribute to meetings if called upon by another lord. Most of the other seconds appeared anxious at the prospect, except Yamori, who seemed to be counting the ceiling beams.

Second contributions were rarely more than a few words, never more than a simple clarification. Promethium’s next question caught me off guard enough that I had to bite my tongue to keep from interceding on Yama’s behalf.

“Do you believe hunters deserve to die for what they do to us?”

I would have killed to know what was going on in Yama’s head because his expression gave me nothing. His voice was firm as he responded. “I do not consider myself to have any say on who deserves to live or die.”

“Spoken like a true church boy,” Promethium said. “Who do you believe has this authority?”

“That’s an impossible question. Hunters believe they have the authority from god, and in-turn vampires take revenge against them in an endless cycle. It’s not just a problem between hunters and vampires either. Anyone can decide they have the authority to kill. The reality is that no one does. No one should have the ability to choose who lives or dies because if one of us does, we all do. I understand it is an impossible ideal, but it is the truth. Even if there is not a god, no one should try to take his role.”

Promethium eyed him for a few more tense seconds of silence. “Harlock,” she said, making my heart explode from shock. I was too old for this type of stress.

“Yes?” I responded.

“Your second is amusing. Keep him well.”

“I will,” I said automatically.

“I hear you’re getting married. Is that right?”

I didn’t know which way was up anymore. “That’s…right.”

“I suppose I can’t spoil a wedding, but make sure I’m invited.” She gave a nod as though in assent, like when Wataru let me keep a mutt I found on the street. Though I was uncertain what she intended, I felt she had decided to forgive me for today. I was allowed to breathe again.

Not that I wanted Promethium anywhere near my wedding, but if an invitation was all it took to hold back a war, I would live with it.

The rest of the meeting passed in its usual mind-numbing manner. Wataru grew so angry at my father’s suggestions on piracy laws that my brother sat fuming in silence for the rest of the meeting. Yamori somehow fell asleep while standing. Leopard managed to not hyperventilate when Promethium questioned him over how he would carry himself as a lord. For some reason, she didn’t ask Mamoru the same questions, though he needed a distraction from the way he was staring starry-eyed at Yama.

My attempt to send Yama over with a message that I would kill him if he didn’t stop had no effect. Then again, judging by the look Yama threw me, he didn’t carry the message faithfully.

By the time Promethium called the meeting to end, we all had to stretch the kinks from our backs. Yamori jolted awake when Promethium stood and the rest of us were filing out. I had to wonder why she kept him around. Must have been a good guard dog when things got heated.

Everyone separated with grumbles and sighs as we reached the deck. Zero was the only one who remained near Yama and me.  “You’re lucky the younger boys were quick to save your ass,” he said.

He was right, but I didn’t need him lording it over me. “I suppose. I’m not sure what her interest in Yama was.”

Zero flashed one of his rare smiles. “I think she just likes cats. But I also think she’s curious about how the other side thinks and Yama pulled the rug out from under her a bit. I certainly wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Yama sure is…” Confusion tied his tongue for a moment as he looked over my shoulder.

I turned to find empty air where Yama had been. Across the deck, Mamoru had an arm draped across Yama’s shoulders and was saying something I needed to kill him for. I wasn’t close enough to hear what. I just knew he needed to die for it.

“Kodai!” I snapped, starting toward them. Zero sighed before trailing after me.

Susumu, who stood a few feet away as though trying not to be associated with his brother, still looked up alongside him.

“We’ve been over this!” I added when Mamoru didn’t let go of Yama.

For his part, Yama was caught somewhere between embarrassment and annoyance. He was tense as a breeze-blown sail and curling to the side much like one in an effort to get away from Mamoru.

That made it easy for me to snatch him away. Caught off balance, Yama stumbled into my chest with a squeak of surprise. I wrapped my arm around his back to hold him tight to me. The pounding of his heart pulsed in my head.

“He was just telling me about your upcoming wedding,” Mamoru said, flashing his usual smile. “Sounds like fun, but he doesn’t have any groomsmen picked out, and that’s tragic.”

“You’re not invited,” I said.

Mamoru’s grin broadened as Yama muttered into my shirt, “I already invited him.”

“He did save you back there, Harlock,” Zero added. “This is going to be one hell of a wedding, eh?”

The last thing I needed was half the damn vampire world at my wedding when half of them already hated me.

“Are you sure we can’t just have the war instead?” I asked.

Yama looked up at me with the least threatening pout I’d seen in my life. “No! We’re getting married, and I’ll make sure you write a letter to Promethium yourself. No wars!”

“I guess seeing you all dressed up as a groom will be worth it,” I sighed before leaning down to kiss him.

His angry retort became muffled whines until I pulled away to see him blushing so hard I could feel the heat radiating off his face.

“Nevermind,” he hissed. “We’re getting a divorce. I’m marrying Daiba.”

Smirking, I brushed another kiss to his forehead. “Your church doesn’t approve of divorces,” I breathed into his bangs, “so you’re stuck with me.”

“And you’re stuck with me!” he snapped.

“And I love you.”

Everyone in the brothel said my skin was an odd color, but I didn’t see it that way. However it looked to them must have been similar to Desslar’s skin, but to me, Desslar was the same gray as everything else. He only gained color when he spoke - splashes of red, purple, and white. I’d never seen someone with such coloring.

Clients tended to have the same colors in their voices - greens usually meshed with the shades of red. When anyone spoke, the colors flooded their form and seeped into the air around them. 

Most of the other brothel workers had unique patterns, though. Susumu was beige and brown, Mamoru orange and yellow, Dick green and blue. Daiba was all reds, though some pink had mixed in lately. The new Tadashi was yellow and red and white and blue, and watching his voice was like a symphony. The old Tadashi, now dubbed Monono, tended toward a baby blue. Manabu had an odd mottling of blue and black that always made me anxious.

Zero had the same coloring after things went wrong.

So had Harlock. They’d both stayed that way for weeks before any trace of their old colors returned, but even now the old colors were faint. Harlock’s voice almost never exuded the loud yellows it did when I first met him.

He was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. The first thing I could remember. His attempt to speak with me was gibberish to my ears. The words were foreign, but the colors that came along with them were familiar. I felt like I knew those swirls, somewhere once far away.

Harlock, though I knew nothing about him at the time, helped me sit up, and I found myself lying on a bed in an extravagant room. There was another man nearby fiddling with something. The two spoke a brief conversation before Harlock took hold of my hand and tried to talk to me once more. I found myself more interested in his hand grasping mine. Though my hand was bandaged, something about the sensation made my head roar with familiarity.

It was then I noted my other hand bandaged as well, restrictive cloth winding up my arm and across my bare chest. Reaching up, I found it on my face and forehead as well. I must have been a mess.

The other man walked over and fit an object, the one he’d been fiddling with, into my ear. When he spoke, the words formed meaning.

“Let’s try that. Can you understand me?” His voice was mostly brown broken by pools of dark blue, different from the reds that appeared when he spoke to Harlock.

For some reason, I knew I was unable to respond aloud, so rather than open my mouth, I nodded. It felt like the appropriate response, a form of confirmation.

“Can you speak?” he asked.

This time I shook my head.

“This is going to be a little difficult then,” Harlock said, a curious mix of orange, yellow, and purple. “My name is Harlock. This is Zero.” He gestured to the other man, who nodded. “Your ship transported here, so damaged it was basically scrap. We weren’t able to salvage much from it, and you were pretty badly injured.”

“I don’t know anything about a race with gold blood,” Zero said, “but with how much you lost, I’m amazed you’re still alive.”

My head listed to the side. It seemed we were of different races, not just different languages. 

“We’re humans, if you didn’t know,” Harlock offered. “Our blood is red, so we were pretty startled when we saw you like that and didn’t have a transfusion available. Luckily we have a sexaroid who was able to make enough sense of your anatomy to hold you together. Your wounds were largely superficial, likely caused by shrapnel. Whatever you had a fight with, you probably lost.”

“He did come out alive, so that’s something,” Zero said.

Another human knocked and entered the room with more bandages in hand. I later learned that humans could identify themselves in varying ways, and this one expressed “woman” rather than “man.” The variation in the translator took me by surprise at first, but I grew to a base understanding over time. Humans had a variety of identities. All the same but all different.

“Oh, he’s awake,” she said in flashes of yellow and orange as she pushed the tray into Zero’s hands. “How are you feeling?” she asked me.

I offered a smile in answer. Nothing hurt, so I felt content. Confused and lost but content.

“He can’t talk,” Harlock said.

“Have you tried giving him something to write on?” she asked. The two men looked at each other, and she rolled her eyes. “His race may not have a written language system, but it’s worth a shot.”

Perhaps women were the smarter variety of human. I was unsure, as I only met a few in my time at the brothel. She introduced herself as Kei and wrote it in some strange, flowing symbols on a square of what I later learned was paper. Harlock wrote his name as well, though the symbols were entirely different, several simple ones in a row. Zero wrote his name the same way, but his writing curved and flowed where Harlock’s drew to points.

When they handed the paper to me, I realized I didn’t know my name, but writing I could grasp. They peered at the paper with eager eyes as I sketched out a message. “I do not remember my name. I do not remember anything. Thank you for helping me.”

When I handed the paper back to them, they all frowned at it. Zero used some small device to scan it. His brows pinched as he looked at the device. “Whatever the language is, it’s not showing up in records. Decoding it may take some time.”

“It looks kind of like sheet music,” Kei said, tilting the paper and her head.

What followed was several hours of gesturing and doodling and yes or no questions, until I was finally able to convey my lack of memories to them. Zero suggested they turn me over to some sort of authority figure, but Harlock’s voice swirled with colors at the idea. “We don’t know who attacked him,” he said. “It’s not safe to turn him over to anyone right now.”

Zero’s voice dipped in hue. “Harlock, we know nothing about him. It’s possible…”

“You’re honestly going to look me in the eye and tell me you think he’s dangerous?”

I hoped they didn’t think that. I would never wish any harm to them or anyone else. Zero must have sensed that, as he sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, we can’t keep him at a brothel.”

“Sure we can,” Harlock said. “He can work here once he’s better.”

Zero’s eyes went wide. His whole body tensed.

Harlock threw his hands up. “Not as a whore! Just as a helper or something! Just so he can make some money!”

Despite Zero’s reservations and my own confusion of human customs, I became the new helper. They called me “Guitar Ship” for a while. Apparently my now-ruined craft looked like something called a guitar, but that was shortened to “Ship” almost instantly, and that was steadily slurred to “Shep,” which stuck.

But once I realized what the brothel business entailed, it became clear to me that I was better suited to being one of the whores than attempting to help cook or fix anything. More often than not, that resulted in a bigger mess.

Harlock did not approve of the idea one bit once I finally managed to explain my goal. “Shep, I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he said, though his voice became distressingly pink. “But it’s just… the anatomy… you don’t... it’s not…”

Before he could become more anxious, I offered my hand. “Hm, what is it?” he asked. Part of him seemed to understand, though, because he placed his hand in mine. I’d figured it out once the bandages came off, why a physical connection gave me such a rush. I knew what I could do.

I knew what Harlock wanted.

In a blink, the office around us became a bedroom I’d never seen, though it was all an illusion, like a dream - Harlock’s dream. Because I made the dream in the image of his views and desires, I saw color as he did. But I wasn’t part of what he wanted.

Harlock’s eye was wide with confusion and surprise as he spun to look around the room. His clothes had changed as well into some sort of odd pirate getup. 

“What is this?” he asked. “What’s going on? Shep?” But when he turned back, I was not myself. I was the person he desired. “Zero?” he choked.

“Relax, Harlock,” the Zero of his dreams said, placing his hand to Harlock’s cheek and leaning in close. “Isn’t this what you want?”

“No.” Harlock placed his hand to Zero’s chest. “This isn’t real. Enough, Shep.”

The dream shattered as Harlock came back to himself and tore his hand from mine.

Of all the times I wished I could speak, that was the greatest. I’d wanted to make Harlock happy, to give him what he wanted, but his shoulders were taut, his hand slapped over his mouth. Despite my intentions, I’d hurt him.

Harlock jolted as I fell to my knees in front of him. I had to apologize somehow. All I had were my actions, so I bowed my head. If he wished to hit me, I would take it.

Instead of a blow, Harlock breathed a laugh. I peered up to find him kneeling in front of me. His smile seemed forced, his eye worn, but his words weren’t far from their usual shades. “Sorry, you just startled me. Remember, our rule is absolute consent. I know it’s hard for you but you need some sort of affirmation before making a move on anyone. I don’t want...” He shook his head. “So you can manipulate people’s minds?”

I nodded. That description sounded crueler than I liked, but it wasn’t incorrect.

“I can understand how that would make you a good worker, but if you’re able to access clients’ ideals like that…” His gaze drifted toward the wall. “You might see some disturbing things. I wouldn’t want you to be under that kind of stress.”

I couldn’t understand why he was concerned for me. He should have been upset. He shouldn’t have been the one to apologize to me.

But that was just like him, always more worried about us than himself. Even after I was able to show him that I wouldn’t allow clients any dreams that broke the brothel’s rules, he checked up on me after every new client.

And after what happened to Zero, he sat by the locked door of Zero’s room for endless hours, murmuring apologies in that black and blue voice. Apologizing for something he couldn’t have predicted or controlled, just like with me.

But things got better. Colors returned. Daiba appeared with all his fires of red and Mamoru with his blinding oranges and yellows. Mamoru in-particular I could always see coming. He was always talking, so vibrant his color bled all over. It was infectious in a way.

“Shep,” he whined as he dropped into my lap where his brother had been not long before. “I lost most of my clients. Give me some of yours.”

I patted his cheek, uncertain what he was talking about. He didn’t seem too upset, so it must not have been a big deal.  

“What did you do?” Zero asked. “And who said you could come out of timeout?”

“I didn’t do anything. Some guy bought my brother exclusive, and he’s paying for all those clients I would have had, but now I’m going to have all this free time. I’m gonna be so bored!”

Manabu appeared as well, having tiptoed down the stairs when Zero wasn’t looking. He clambered over the back of the armchair Zero sat in, forcing Zero to scooch over and make enough room for Manabu to squeeze in next to him. “What?” Manabu cawed. “Susumu got a client to himself? Aw, I could have taken the client.”

With a worn smile, Zero ruffled Manabu’s hair. “Maybe next time. How about we have Monono make us some tea right now and just relax instead?”

Zero, Dick, and I had clients scheduled for Monday night, so this was our last chance to relax until then, but the reality was that Manabu could be soothed by horrible, bitter tea no matter how upset he got. Zero was just playing that to his advantage. He sent Tadashi to let Monono know of our request.

“So is Harlock going to be the one to let most of my clients know they can’t have their incest kink fulfilled anymore?” Mamoru asked. “Because I’m not dealing with that.”

A new voice with the same colors flashed from the entryway. “Can’t I have two seconds of being here without you saying something gross?” Kei called as she strode in. Her travel bag slid from her shoulder and hit the ground with a thunk. Whatever was in there sounded heavy.

“Kei, is that the equipment we sent you to get?” Zero asked, frowning at the bag. “Please be careful with it.”

“Don’t worry. I have it padded,” she said. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“Daiba got a brother,” Mamoru said.

“More brothers? Jeez, don’t we have enough?”

Tadashi popped back out of the kitchen with a bag of chips he was eating by the handful. “He’s makin’ the tea,” he said through his munching. “Who’s that?”

Kei stared at him for a stretch, a deep frown forming along her features. “Did Harlock pick out that maid outfit?” she asked at length. “It’s pretty cheap looking. We have to get him a different one.”

“I picked it out!” Tadashi squeaked. “It wasn’t cheap!”

Kei put her hands on her hips. “Well, it looks like a costume. Don’t worry. I’ll get you a better one.”

“Anyway,” Zero called over them. “Kei, this is our new maid Tadashi Daiba. Tadashi this is our other bodyguard, Kei Yuki.”

“Daiba and his brother have the same name?” Kei muttered. “Well, anyway, nice to meet you, Tadashi. I’m going to go put my stuff down and wash up. Don’t be gross while I’m gone, guys.”

She scooped up the bag and headed upstairs. She must have spotted Daiba on the way because the red of him barking spilled out from the upstairs hall.

Our tea arrived shortly, while Mamoru continued to whine, and Manabu lounged against Zero. Zero was the only one Harlock would allow Manabu to get close to to ensure no one got too handsy.

“My client should be here soon,” Zero said after he finished his tea. “I’m going to go ahead and get ready. You should too, Shep.”

I nodded as Mamoru and Manabu began pouting. I would have given them some of my clients if I could. I had no use for the money Harlock gave me. He said if I ever remembered where I came from I could use the funds to buy a new ship and return, but I was content with my home.

After stretching out my legs, half-asleep from Mamoru lying over them, I headed for the stairs. As I reached the base of them, Desslar turned the corner at the top. His expression was plain, his eyes straight ahead. We walked on opposite sides going opposite ways, but when he reached the same step as me, he paused.

“You’re not Gamilan, are you?” He sounded as though he already knew the answer, and his words were now far more red and purple tinged with black.

I shook my head. I wasn’t certain what I was, but I felt we weren’t the same.

“Strange,” he said. “I feel like we’ve met.” He continued down without another glance, so I ripped my eyes from him and hurried upstairs. Passing my room, I knocked at Susumu’s. 

“Coming,” came the muffled response through the door. We didn’t lock our doors unless we had clients, yet I heard the bolt snap out of place. I tried to keep myself from looking too anxious as he opened the door. “Oh, Shep.” He smiled, but his words were all wrong, all black and mottled with blue. I couldn’t help but let my expression twist with concern. Something was wrong.

“Did you come to check on me?” he asked. “Everything went fine, so don’t look all worried. He was pretty easy to take care of, honestly.”

But the colors were wrong. It was like an infection had spread to him, the same one that claimed Zero, Harlock, and Manabu, the one that made them stare off at nothing with heavy, worn eyes. I took Susumu’s face in my hands, trying to speak with my eyes, begging him to tell me what was wrong.

He simply looked confused. “Shep, it’s alright. Everything went fine. Don’t you have a client soon? You should get ready for them.”

I so desperately wished for a voice, but all I could do was press my forehead to his. “Shep,” he sighed, drowning in that horrible blackened blue. “I’m exclusive now. You’re not allowed to touch me.”

I had no proof, no voice, no understanding, so I let him go to take care of my client instead. No one else seemed to notice anything amiss. The next morning Susumu smiled and laughed along with the rest of us. But that hue remained in his voice, and when he thought no one was looking, I saw his gaze grow distant, glazed with pain as he lost himself in that horrible color.

I must have been cursed. After several unlucky roundsof Rock, Paper, Scissors, I was slapped with the designated driver position forthe night. As if things weren’t bad enough already, everyone got wasted. Unusuallywasted.

I had no proof that anything had been spiked, but Zerocould hold his alcohol better than anyone I knew, and he was laughing with hischeek against our table after just a few drinks. Even when Zero did get drunk,he was always all moody about it. Seeing him giggling like a little kid made mewonder if someone had slipped something in my water too.

Bulge, usually our designated driver, never drankmuch. Said he didn’t like to get drunk, but he was collapsed against Zero’s sidecackling about whatever stupid thing had riled the two of them up.

Everyone was having a good time, sure. I just didn’ttrust the place. After twenty minutes of coaxing, begging, bribing, anddragging, I got them all back to the car. At each apartment stop, I made surethey made it through their door alright after making them promise they’d neverhave me as a designated driver again. Not like they’d remember.

Bulge and Zero’s shared apartment was last, theclosest to mine and Tochiro’s and furthest from the bar I didn’t think I’d begoing back to. Their heads were knocked together in the backseat, lookingasleep except for the occasional murmur from one of them.

“Alright, come on,” I called back as I parked by theircars. “Let’s get you useless drunks inside.”

The car’s overhead light kicked on as I opened mydoor, and I found them squinting as I popped their door open for them. Theyboth wore pouts but complied when I grabbed them by the arm and dragged theminto the parking lot.

“Are you staying the night, Harlock?” Bulge asked in asweet, sleepy slur of a voice as though dripping with honey. He got all sappyand affectionate when drunk.

I expected Zero to object, but he was too busy tryingto find where he put his front door key in his million coat pockets.

“I’m not staying,” I said. “I’m just dropping you off.There’s only so much being around drunk people I can stand without being drunkmyself.”

“Sorry,” Bulge said like a kicked puppy. “Do you wantsome food or something? I’m real sorry. You were so helpful.”

I was starting to see why he didn’t like to get drunkoften. “It’s fine,” I said. “Let’s just get you both inside.”

Zero continued fumbling for his keys even as wereached the door, until I was tapping my foot and sighing. Before I could offerto just kick the door in, Bulge shoved his hand into one of the coat’s lowerpockets with a slurred, “Babe, you always put it in the same pocket.”

Zero looked as startled as I did, though he may havebeen more shocked by the awkward placement of Bulge’s grabby hand. I wasconcerned with Bulge calling him babe. Bulge didn’t call anyone babe, not hisoccasional dates, not any hapless baby animals, and especially not hisroommate.

I hoped neither of them would remember this in themorning because I was already hurting knowing that I would. It was all tooweird.

I snatched the keys from Bulge, knowing how long we’dbe there if I let them try to put the key in the lock. Once I had the dooropen, I turned on the lights for them and made sure there weren’t any strayshoes on the floor they could trip over. There weren’t, of course. Bulge andZero were both too neat for that. They both looked like something was crawling aroundon them when they visited my apartment. Bulge was too polite to comment, butZero always said, “Clean your goddamn house, Harlock.”

I tried to hang on the door and let them stumble pastme into the apartment, but Bulge pushed me farther in. “You should eatsomething,” he said. “Or get a drink. We have lots of things.”

If by “lots of things,” he meant water, then they suredid.

He seemed so anxious about it that I figured I wouldhave to take some crackers and a water bottle to make him happy. With a sigh, Iclosed the door behind me, muttering, “Fine-fine.”

Bulge’s eyes lit up as though it were his birthday,and I turned into their small kitchen area. I swear, I was in there for tenseconds tops. I thought I heard something like one of them stubbing their toeagainst the couch, but I sure as hell was not prepared to come back to themmaking out on the couch.

Something had definitely been slipped into my water.

For a minute, I could only stare, my whole body lockedup against me. It looked like Zero had shoved Bulge over the armrest, boththeir knees resting on it. Bulge had his arms locked around Zero’s back, hisfingers digging into that damn coat. Zero hands were latched on Bulge’ssquirming hips, and damn the two of them were going at it. Even when my bodystill wouldn’t move, my eyes flicked away on their own as my mind whirled.

I felt the need to stop them, but I would have muchpreferred just running out the door and leaving them to their devices. Ifsomething had been slipped into their drinks, this was not good. They wouldn’trealize what they were doing. Unless they did? Maybe they did this all the time.I didn’t know. They could have been fuck buddies. Neither of them were thetypes to go around advertising it.

But if that weren’t true, I had to pry them apartsomehow. And then what if they just climbed back on top of each other as soonas I left? Dammit, I was not staying here all night playing chastity belt.

I opened my mouth to say something. I hadn’t plannedout whatever it was, but when Zero’s hand shoved into Bulge’s pants, my voice justcame out as a yell.

Sure didn’t stop them. Bulge just moaned over me. Heactually moaned. Bulge. Oh my god. He was so loud and unrestrained, they weregoing to wake the damn neighbors.

When they broke away gasping for air, their faces allflushed – goddamn, I needed a drink – I finally kicked my legs into motion. Myhand outstretched, I was ready to put a stop to these useless, drunk,starting-to-get-me-grossly-turned-on idiots.

But Bulge did that for me. Sweet, stupid, Bulge.Something got ahold of him – probably Zero’s hand. He leaned up and bit downhard on the side of Zero’s neck. Zero yelped and rolled off of Bulge, hittingthe floor with a thunk.

“Oh thank god,” I said through a wheeze.

Zero had his hand on his neck, his brows furrowed ashe stared up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry!” Bulge howled, held up on one arm as helooked to Zero in horror. “Did I bite too hard? I thought you liked biting! I’msorry!”

I blinked. Bulge hadn’t done that intentionally. “Idon’t know what I expected,” I muttered, rubbing a hand across my face.

When Zero pulled his hand back to look, his palm was coveredwith blood like a fresh coat of red paint. Bulge broke into a yell and a dozenscreamed apologies.

If the neighbors weren’talready awake, they sure as hell were up now.

I woke with a splitting headache which drowned out theache in my back. After a few minutes of trying to pull my eyes open, I was ableto squint enough to realize I’d slept on the couch. For some reason, Harlockwas curled up on the recliner across the room. The bottle of water on the floornear him entranced me too much to care, and I rolled off the couch to dragmyself toward it.

A quiet “oof,” reached my ears as my knee landed onsomething that wasn’t the floor. Looking down, I found Zero, his expressionscrewed up with pain and his hand against his head.

“Sorry,” I mumbled in a hoarse voice that must havebeen mine, and I pulled myself off of him.

“S’okay,” he answered, his eyelids heavy. As heyawned, I noticed a huge adhesive bandage slapped against his neck, the kindusually reserved for kids who scraped their knees. Our first aid kit sat openon the floor nearby.

“We must have done something stupid,” I said.

“Yes,” a voice hissed behind me.

I turned to find Harlock glaring from his seat, thoughhe didn’t look all that threatening with how he’d curled up. He reminded me ofa puffed-up cat.

“I am never, nevergoing to be a designated driver for you two again,” he said.

“What happened?” Zero asked as I padded over on allfours to the water bottle.

When I looked up at Harlock’s silence, I found himredder than Zero’s favorite sweater. He couldn’t look at either of us.

Oh.

I looked at Zero, who was trying to hide his smile ashe looked back to me.

“And you didn’t even join in?” Zero asked.

I wished he wouldn’t taunt Harlock like that. The poorguy looked close to a heart attack. “I’m leaving,” he said like the wind hadbeen knocked out of him.

“At least take some food or water before you go,” Icalled as he rushed to the door.