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Sacrifice	By : xerosky Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8290 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is the property of Akira Toriyama. No money is being made from this work of fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Sacrifice

By Xero Sky

Pairing: Kakkarot x Vejiita

Rating: NC-17

Warnings (for the entire fic): Slash, non- or dub- con, sex, violence, profanity, death, angst. AU, time travel.

Summary:   Rejecting your fate is a privilege of power. Sometimes, however, the price may be too high to pay.

All rights belong to their original owners. No profit of any kind is intended from this work of fan fiction.

Chapter Six

Kakkarot had focused on the king's ki to take the prince back home; father and son had similar signatures, making the king easier to find, and besides, he realized that he didn't actually know anyone else on Vegetasei well enough to transmit to their ki. It struck him that this was something else he really should have thought through better. Well, hindsight was perfect, and he was nothing if not flexible. It didn't really phase him at all that between one moment and the next he'd gone from the lake shore to the king's private apartment, or that he'd shown up smelling like sex, wood smoke and Vejiita. It didn't bother him that he and the prince were dirty and equally dishevelled.   He wasn't disturbed to find that his father-in-law (or whatever term applied to something like this) appeared to be, if not drunk, then unduly relaxed.

The problem was the woman sitting comfortably next to the fire. She felt different, wrong, and he pulled his prince tighter into his arms without thinking about it, baring his teeth at her.

"Hello, Kakkarot," she said, smiling politely. “Prince Vejiita.”

She was a striking woman, more wild-looking than most saiyajins, with longer fangs and sharper nails, dressed in simple black clothing; if things had been different, very different, he might have been intrigued. As it was, he answered her greeting with a growl that rolled up and out of his chest, surprising him a little. It felt right, though, so he went with it.

She seemed genuinely amused by this, and the hair on his tail began to lift in response.

The rising tension in the room was suddenly broken by King Vegeta, who didn't give a damn about either one of them at the moment. He had caught the scent of his son, and the scents of sex and struggle that clung to both males, before his eyes even registered that they were there. It cut through his pleasant numbness like teeth shearing bone. Without hesitation, he got up, a little unsteadily, to be honest, and took hold of Kakkarot's wrist, seeking to free Vejiita from his hold. Kakkarot couldn't keep from growling at this as well, but he did allow the father to unwrap the son from his arms. Once free, the king threw his own arms around Vejiita, uncaring of dignity. The prince allowed it, returning nothing, but he did rest his head briefly on his father's shoulder. Knowing his son, the king took that small sign for what it was worth, which was everything.

Only when the prince pulled back did King Vegeta notice that Kakkarot's aura was flaring, and that he was glaring daggers at his other guest.

With something like a laugh at the absurdity of all this, he introduced them with a formal flourish. "Lord Kakkarot, this is Lady--"

"Kami," Kakkarot said between clenched teeth.

"Well, that's more of a job description, actually," she said, but the joke fell into the dead space between them, and the kami sighed. When she spoke again, it was in flawless Ningen, the language of his first life.

"Relax," she said. "I'm not here to get in your way. I'd have interfered years ago if I'd thought it would've done any good."

"He's mine," Kakkarot said, just barely keeping himself from pulling the prince in question back into his arms. He saw Vejiita bristle at those words and realized he wasn't speaking the old language. He rarely even thought in it any more. It sounded alien and archaic coming from her.

"Apparently," she said.

"Then why are you here?" To be completely honest, he was a little taken aback by his own reaction. He vaguely remembered a time when he'd been impressed with the various gods he'd run across, but that had been ages ago. Since then, their main function had been to bring him bad news. Reports of impending doom were always exciting for him, but he wasn't foolish enough to imagine that it wasn't disastrous for almost everybody else around him. Besides that, they all tended to interfere with things that weren't really their business, and he hadn't been in the mood to put up with that for a few decades now.

This also wasn’t the time for catastrophic interruptions. He was busy.

Additionally, he hadn't even guessed that Vegetasei had a kami, so finding that out for the first time right now made him suspicious.

"I'm here," she said, reverting to the saiyajin tongue, "to point some things out to you all, and to ask some questions."

"Like what?" He crossed his arms across his chest and glowered, not willing to be interrogated. This was not what he'd hoped to be doing this evening.

"Let her ask," the king said. "Otherwise she'll never leave."

"Motherless bastard," the kami said archly.

"If only it was true," the king rejoined.

"If only I'd been barren," she said.

Kakkarot blinked at this exchange, clearly somewhat lost, and the king smirked. Welcome to the family, he thought, pleased to finally have some kind of advantage over him, no matter how petty. "Lady Nashi is the first saiyajin kami of Vegetasei, chosen right after the Tsfurujin rebellion. Our bloodline descends from her, and she's just as big a pain in the ass as any Vegeta has ever been."

"Bigger," she said with a short bark of laughter. As if demonstrating, she reached out and deftly snagged his scarpa off the table, draining the glass before he could react. Folding his arms, he gave her an imperial glare, which she ignored.

"No doubt," Kakkarot said. "But what do you want to know?"

She fixed him with a sharp gaze. "What are your intentions, Kakkarot? You said you don't want to rule, but how do you plan to live? The people think the Legendary is a god; do you plan to be their god, or hide your identity?"

"I never meant to be a god," he said. "Killing Furiza takes the first form, and I knew I wouldn't get close to Vejiita unless I kept it up. That's all. I would never do anything to take Vejiita's title away."

He glanced at Vejiita as he said this and saw the prince glance back, his expression thoughtful.

"You realize that you'll be his Consort when he takes the throne? You'll have obligations."

He shifted and crossed his arms. "Are you trying to talk me out of it? You're years too late for that."

"Just making sure you know what you're getting into."

His lip curled into a sneer. "I'll do whatever has to be done."

"Good, because if you’re not going to be the Legendary in public, you're going to have to court prince Vejiita and then marry him, if you want to keep up the illusion that you belong here."

"I do belong here --" he began fiercely, but he was cut off by the prince, who'd stepped away, putting some distance between himself and everyone else in the room.

"I'm not going to spend the next three cycles pretending I’m falling in love," Vejiita said, referring to the standard courtship period, his arms crossed and his tail bristling. The resemblance to the first prince made Kakkarot's heart melt a little, but he was smart enough not to show it. The actual words rolled right off his back.

"We could say you eloped," the king murmured speculatively, scratching at his beard. "Kakkarot was just showing off to get my approval."

"What the hell for?" Vejiita snapped.

“So we can announce your betrothal and cancel the blood feud your father declared," Nashi added helpfully.

"Blood feud?!"

The king shrugged. "What else was I going to do, pretend it was all a joke? Unless I told everybody you were promised to him, I had to act like you were kidnapped. We've got blood feud, the army's mobilized, and everyone's on alert. Maybe if you'd announced yourself, Kakkarot, we could've got through this without all the extra drama."

Kakkarot found he had nothing much to say to that. "What was I supposed to do, just show up and ask for your son?"

"Why not? That's what you did the first time." There was an edge to the king's voice now, and Kakkarot wondered, for the first time, how much damage his grand plan might have done.

He was terrible at these things. He'd always been terrible at them. Being a saiyajin, among saiyajins, somehow didn't make it better. After a moment's deliberation, he heaved an internal sigh and bowed. His teachers in purger rehab would've been pleased with his form. "I apologize for the harm I've done to you and your family," he said gravely. He did not, and would not, apologize for coming for his prince, however.

The room's inhabitants blinked at him. For a few moments there was silence, and Kakkarot grew fairly certain that he'd screwed this up too. Then the prince snorted and folded his arms again, pointedly looking away. Nashi regarded her clawed fingernails with great interest, while the king simply stared at him. Eventually the senior Vegeta nodded, much to Kakkarot’s relief. He wasn’t required to do anything else, and Kakkarot understood as much. A little more reaction would've been nice, though.

"You see the point, then? There has to be some sort of formal announcement to get everyone to stand down," Nashi asked, breaking the silence. The prince didn't deign to respond, but that was a kind of acknowledgment all in itself.

"Something fairly quick and painless can probably be worked out," the king said thoughtfully. "Tomorrow morning we’ll call a grand council. You don't have to do anything but be there -- I'll do the talking."

The prince seethed, wanting to deny that there was anything to announce, but he was the heir to the throne, Kakkarot be damned, and he knew something would have to be said.   The big idiot had upset the entire empire.

Kakkarot nodded also, happy that there was something that could be done. He'd never heard of blood feud before, but it didn't take much intelligence to know that was a bad thing. He didn't have much experience with armies either, other than in slaughtering them, but mobilizing the saiyajin army had to be about the same thing as mobilizing the whole planet. The shift in focus between his personal obsession and the greater picture made him a little dizzy, to be honest. He'd spent too long having to convince himself that pursuing his selfish desires this time was acceptable and hurt no one.

"We can't settle everything in one night, but there are some other things you need to consider," Nashi said. She had the air of someone coming to the end of a business meeting.

"Like what?" the prince growled.

"Vejiita," his father said reprovingly, and Kakkarot had to hide a smile. The idea of anyone reproving Vejiita was funny, but it brought the prince's youth home to him once more. The darkness under his eyes only accentuated it. The glare he shot his father did nothing to contradict the impression.

Nashi repressed a sigh, aware of how high tensions were running. It would be best to wrap this up as quickly as they could. Her powers as a kami weren’t as extensive as she would’ve liked (she was easily the weakest of the four saiyajins in that room), but she had put the many long years of her life to good use; she had more than a few useful tricks up her sleeve. It was time to cut the evening short.

The next thing that happened was the only truly supernatural event of the evening, and it was benign enough not to raise any hackles. The kami simply spoke to them each privately, without the others hearing, all at the same time. “”What I say now is for your ears and yours alone,” she began each time, having all three conversations at once. "The others cannot hear us."

****

“Kakkarot's exactly what I told you earlier,” Nashi said to the king, referring to their conversation this evening before the other two had returned. “He's not the easiest to read, but once you find your way, his soul is clear. He means the prince no harm, but his feelings are so intense that they might be able to overpower his good intentions.””

“Did he bind my son?" the king interjected.

“No, not that way. There's something there, though. I can see it in their ki. It's like an echo, or a shadow they cast on each other's energy. It's not something I've seen before, and I don't know what it means, but it affects them both.””

"Is Vejiita safe with him?"

"They say Ascension is first cousin to Madness, but he seems to have kept his wits about him. Fear of losing Vejiita runs through him like a fault line, but I doubt seriously that the prince is in any direct danger from him.””

“Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning that he’d probably die before he intentionally did him any harm. But, no, I’m not giving you any guarantees. He’s too powerful and he’s asking for too much. My gut feeling is that your son will be fine, but Kakkarot won’t give up his claim. I can feel his stubbornness as clearly as his fear.”

“So what do we do?”

“Adapt,” she said simply. “And remember that there’s still hope for all this to turn to happiness in the end.””

“You’re not really much help, you know that?” he said.

*******

In the meantime, Kakkarot was having a different conversation.

“You may be insane, you know that?" she opened.

"Yeah, I've heard." He gave her a sharp grin, showing a glimpse of fang.

"You've come all this way, and you don't even know for sure that you can be mated with him."

"I know. It's right. I can feel it."

"That may be true, but what about him? If it wasn't for everything you pushed into his head, would he be able to feel you at all? Can he when you’re apart?"

Kakkarot opened his mouth to tell her that of course he would, but then his eyes narrowed as a thought struck him. "You were spying on us."

"Of course I was; it's my job, especially with him," she said, meeting his gaze steadily.

She had a point, but he didn't like it. There didn't seem to be much point in escalating this to a fight at the moment, but he'd remember to take it up with her again later. The idea of her watching his rough seduction of the prince irked him, although not quite as much as he would’ve expected.

He settled for lifting an eyebrow at her, which she answered with a politely sombre nod. "What I'm getting to is this: he may be your soul mate, but are you his? You both existed in your timeline, but you weren't born here, and this prince may not have been meant to have a soul mate -- and if he was, it wouldn't be you."

"That can't be true --" he started to protest, but she cut him off.

"And it may not be," she said quickly, "but it's possible, and you're going to have to accept that. He might not be able to give you what you want."

Unless you force it on him, she thought, but she kept that particular idea to herself. She could see the sudden distress churning in his ki, and the quiet that fell between them was charged with it. He was a saiyajin in search of his mate, and, from what she'd heard him telling the prince, one who was staving off the grief of loss with the hope that this Vejiita would be the mate he should have had. She felt sorrow for him, despite the threat he represented to her bloodline and perhaps to her people. It was hard to be afraid of the man -- despite herself, she almost liked him -- but his power was frightening. Nashi hadn't had any delusions about Furiza's threat to all saiyajins, and she knew Kakkarot was their saviour, but it was hard to stand next to that kind of strength and not feel at least a little awe.

Kakkarot scowled, but he was waiting, listening to his instincts. If what she said was true, then Vejiita might not be his.... but Vejiita had to be his. There was no other choice; he would do whatever he had to do. If it took the prince some time, then he would give him that time, but he wouldn't give up. He'd never given up on anything; he wasn't sure he even knew how. That wasn't a figure of speech: he wasn't sure he knew how to back away from a fight for good, to walk away when he could still fight. It was a mind-set he could barely fathom. So he wouldn't give up the prince, either, and it would work out, as things always did. He killed the thought of the first prince dying in his arms before it could lay the seeds of doubt.

Nashi was a little surprised when Kakkarot's face cleared and he smiled. It wasn't a huge, sky-clearing smile, or a manic grin, but the look of a man who has made peace with himself. It wasn't entirely a lie, either. She could read that much. His ki, however, retained an unsettled feel to it.

"I'll do what I have to do for Vejiita," he said. "In the meantime, mind your own business. I'm not here to hurt anybody, especially not him."

"For what it's worth, then, I wish you luck," she said. "Perhaps some other day we can talk about the places you've been and the echoes you leave behind you."

"Maybe," he said, but his gaze had already slid back to Vejiita, who was scowling at no one in particular.

As it happened, the prince was currently not enjoying his own conversation with the kami.

"You’ve acquitted yourself honourably, son of Vegetasei," she said. "Even though there's no way we could have predicted he'd be... quite like this."

"Insane?"

"Obsessed?"

"Bizarre?"

"All of that and more."

"He's a freak," Vejiita said flatly, crossing his arms.

"Yes, but he's your freak."

"Hilarious," he said flatly.

"I mean it," the kami said, trying to force a meeting with his eyes. "You're all he sees, and you can use that to your own advantage if you need to."

“I’m not going to flirt and simper like some concubine for favors, if that’s what you’re getting at,” the prince said, nearly dropping the temperature of the entire room with the coldness in his voice.

“Of course not, prince,” she said. ”Just remember that he needs you more than you need him at the moment. You have the high ground, so don’t let it go.””

He shrugged, not quite dismissing that idea.

“But don’t push him harder than you need to,” she followed up.

Another, more pointed shrug. “Whatever.” He crossed his arms and stared into the fire, quite obviously done with advice for the evening.

The kami stood up and stretched, her tailing unfurling for a moment before winding back around her waist. That marked the end of their strange, individual conversations with her, and the three of them became aware of it all at once, shooting startled glances at each other.

“For the record, I hate it when you do that,” the king growled.

It was the kami’s turn to shrug. “I wish you a good rest tonight. I’ll be back sooner than you’d like.”

“A decade would be too soon,” the king groused, but the remark lacked any real venom.

“I’ll miss you too,” she shot back, on her way out the door. A few moments later Kakkarot felt her ki recede suddenly, drawing off too fast for him to track. She must have some kind of Instant Transmission technique, he thought. People had always told him how irritating that was when he did it; he had a sinking feeling that he might find out how they’d felt, if she turned out to be as nosey as he suspected. Wonderful.

The saiyajins she left behind were left awkwardly glancing at each other, uncertain what to do next. The prince returned to glaring at the opposite wall, and Kakkarot ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He was tired now, and hungry again. As if on cue from that thought, his stomach rumbled. It wasn’t the loudest protest he’d ever heard from his own body, but there was no missing it in that room.

Back on Chikyuusei that was something that usually brought embarrassment, but it didn’t raise any eyebrows here. Instead, the king roused himself, returning to his parental role. Both his son and his... son-in-blood? were obviously worse for wear. He considered having a meal brought to his rooms, but the thought of eating in this awful quiet was enough to kill his own appetite.

He was reluctant to let Vejiita out of his sight, though. He knew well enough what must have happened while the two of them were gone; his nose didn’t lie. Vejiita seemed no worse for wear, though: there were no bruises, no scent of blood, no special turbulence in his ki, and although he was unhappy, the prince didn’t feel traumatized to his father’s senses. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t been the ordeal they had all feared. He just didn’t want to let his child out of his sight, not when he looked so lost.

Vejiita, however, had other ideas. Pushing off from the wall, he stood in front of his father. “Is there anything you need me to do tonight?””

That was the prince his father recognized, using duty to distract himself from his own thoughts. However, he had nothing to give him. The announcement of his son’s ”engagement” would be better done in the morning. A broadcast in the middle of the night would give an impression of chaos in the palace, or at least unpreparedness; a morning announcement would seem less reactionary and more planned, as if any of them knew what the hell they were doing.

“No,” he answered. “It would be best if you kept out of sight until morning, anyway. There are rumors enough already, and we have to control the story or risk more unrest.””

Kakkarot frowned at this, considering the results of his actions again, but the prince didn’t notice. “Fine,” he said brusquely. “Then I’m going to bed.”

He stepped over to a blank expanse of wall and held up one hand; Kakkarot felt rather than saw the faint glow of ki at his fingertips. Responding to the royal signature, a panel revealed itself by sliding open, and the prince disappeared into a dark corridor on the other side. Kakkarot blinked at this, but realized after a second that he’d better move fast if he wanted to follow his prince: the door was already starting to close again. With a nod to his... father-in-law? he nearly blurred out of sight in an effort to catch up.

The secret panels, all of them coded to respond only to certain ki signatures, were blast-proof and highly reinforced, a fact that also rendered them sound proof. The king heard only a fragment of exactly what Vejiita had to say when Kakkarot crashed into him in the surprisingly narrow corridor, before the door slid shut, but it brought a certain lightening of his heart. His son, he thought, was still Vejiita: irascible, proud, and difficult to the point of pain, not to mention stubborn. If there was anyone who could make his way through this mess with his held high, it was the Prince of All Saiyajins.

No matter how many gods saw fit to interfere.

He picked up a scouter from the mantelpiece and began making the first of a series of calls. There was a lot to do before morning. There were meetings to be held, and details to work out, and lies to be told.

Also, he could probably use another drink.

As he waited for his brother to respond, the king hoped that Vejiita would actually manage to get some sleep tonight; he was going to need it.

*********

The Prince of All Saiyajins actually did sleep pretty well that night. He was too exhausted to do much of anything else. The servants had gone, but there’d been food waiting for them in his rooms, piled neatly on a table. He’d been too tired to eat more than a few plates full, standing in deeply awkward silence across from Kakkarot. The fool had fortunately been too busy stuffing himself to attempt conversation, so he’d been spared that much.

Kakkarot also slept surprising well, considering that he was sprawled across a couch in the prince’s sitting room, outside his private bedroom. Vejiita had finished his meal and then snarled “You sleep out here!” at him before slamming the bedroom doors shut.

Kakkarot had bared his fangs at the doors, but he thought better of breaking them open. What good would it do? If he was anything like the first prince (he is, he has to be), Vejiita would be craving his privacy by now, and there wasn’t any reason not to let him have it. Besides which, Kakkarot was a snuggler, always had been, and he wasn’t sure the prince would sleep at all with his arms around him. Better to take things slower. Both of them genuinely needed sleep.

Not that he planned on sleeping on the couch for the rest of his life, though.

Looking around, he’d spotted a couple of fur throws near the fire place and went about making himself a place to sleep. Saiyajins could withstand terrible conditions and survive in any number of hostile environments, but they liked their homes comfortable, and the palace was certainly no exception. It didn’t take him very long at all before he could bed down on soft cushions, covered with soft, plush furs.

It was a strange place, but if he didn’t quite feel at home, he felt closer to it than he had in years. Vejiita’s suppressed ki was like a banked fire burning nearby, comforting him as he let his eyes shut in the darkness. This prince... there was so much they could do together, so much they could see. This future was wide open...

A few dozen feet away, behind the doors that wouldn’t last a second if Kakkarot decided he wanted through them, Vejiita slept almost as soon as his head met the pillows, despite believing that he couldn’t. He’d been elated when Kakkarot stayed outside; he need some distance from him, some space filled with normal things and familiar routines. He stomped into the royal showers, happy that there was no one else there, and stood under the spray for a long time, washing Kakkarot’s stink off himself. As he towelled off, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and refused to look again, knowing that the tattoos and the eye-lines were still there. It would take weeks for the goddamned things to fade. He threw his fancy clothes in a regular laundry chute, vaguely aware that any of the palace servants could steal and sell them for a year’s salary or more. Let them. He’d be happy never seeing them again.

He paused, staring at his bed for a moment before searching for some light clothes to sleep in. He normally slept naked, but the thought of being nude under the covers with Kakkarot so close by almost made him shiver. Absurdly, the shirt and shorts he found made him feel better, as if they could ward off anything more dangerous than a slight chill. Unwilling to think about this either, he slipped under heavy quilts and stared at the bedroom doors until the lights went out on the other side.

Stupid. It was all so goddamned stupid.

I’m sorry I let you think this was a choice.

He snarled softly into the darkness. He’d never really thought he had a choice. He was still surprised he’d gotten this far away from the bastard, even for a few hours.

His head tried to fill with images of a life that wasn’t his, memories from another world, but he fought back. He wasn’t anyone but himself, and Kakkarot would have to accept that, because he would fight for it to the last scrap of strength he had.

The bed was warm and soft, and it slowly sapped his anger. As he drifted away, not entirely aware of it, he could feel Kakkarot’s ki in the next room, muted with sleep already. How strange, he thought, that even from here it felt so warm...

*******

Space pods were only a reasonable means of travel if the trip was on autopilot and the passenger was unconscious the whole time. Otherwise, the lack of room and inability to even stretch out could drive people crazy, especially since the viewport showing the infinite chasm of deep space was only a foot or so away and utterly unavoidable. Some species couldn’t hack it at all, and others required sedation just to get out of the atmosphere. Once Furiza was dead and his armies scattered, the little craft went out of style almost instantly.

Current saiyajin ships like this one were small by many standards, but it was enough for a saiyajin to live in without being in cryosleep the whole time. He or she even had room to train, if all the living modules, like the bed, shower, or galley, were folded into the walls. Bright colors predominated, appealing to saiyajin tastes, but the ship was designed to be sleek and functional, unlike the pilot, who was currently seriously rumpled from sleep and not particularly awake.

Radditz, son of Bardock, pushed his hair out of his face for the thousandth time and read the messages again. He scanned the controls again, and saw that, yes, the course really had been remotely set for Vegetasei while he was asleep. He knew that kind of thing was possible, especially with the ultra-high priority code the messages had been sent over, but this was the first time it had happened to him, and if he was more awake, it would have completely pissed him off.

He was getting there, though.

So, a priority recall to Vegetasei. That was a hell of a thing to wake up to. The first message simply announced that he was ordered back home immediately, under the seal of his high command. The second said the same thing, but included the personal seal of his division commander. Neither gave further instructions, reasons, or any room for using his own judgment.

Son of a bitch.

Without expecting it to work, he keyed in the over-ride code he was supposed to know about, and then the one that he wasn’t. Denied.

Denied.

If he wasn’t awake before, that one word on the screen was enough to do the trick.

The ship had been in motion for over an hour already.

What the fuck were those morons thinking?

It wasn’t that he particularly enjoyed it out here in the ass-end of space by himself. In between the moments of terror when he thought he’d been discovered, he spent most of his time either bored out of his skull or strung out on paranoia. His seizures had slowed down but they hadn’t disappeared entirely, and he still had dreams.

He wasn’t out here putting up with this shit just to get him away from his obnoxious goddamned family, though, and he’d bet his eye-teeth that whoever sent that recall didn’t know a damned thing about his real mission. This wasn’t the absolute worst time to get called back, but it was close to it. He didn’t even have a direct line to his true commander on this mission; it was all one-on-one, face-to-face. That meant he had no way of getting this overturned.

Seething, he jumped to his feet, then was stifled pacing back and forth in the confines of the main room. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

It took him some time to calm down, after destroying most of his training gear and leaving a couple of holes in non-critical pieces of equipment.

He contented himself later by imagining exactly what he was going to do to whoever was responsible for this mess.

For some reason, Turles was the first victim to come to mind.

Some things never changed.

*******

**

To be continued.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Sacrifice