“You still haven’t told me much about your trip back to Liverpool.”

“It was great!  You already heard me talking about Grandpa Louis and the bass; that was his schtick pretty much the whole time I was there.  He also got a little pissy when Mum made him a blueberry pie with the wrong kind of crust, but how many different kinds of pie crusts are there?!  I think he’s still got enough sense left in his head to know when and how he’s messing with us.  Oh, and Dad got tenure at the uni!”

“That’s wonderful!” I gushed.  “Do you think they’ll ever move back here?”

“Between the tenure and Grandpa Louis’ repeated threats of driving his electric wheelchair into the river to avoid moving to the States, probably not.”

I smiled.  “One of these days, I’d love to go to England with you.  I’ve still never been, and I really wanna meet Good Ol’ Grandpa Tomlinson.”

“Mirai, if I ever get to take you on holiday to England with me, we’re heading straight for London.  Liverpool’s great and all, but you’ll like London much more ‘cause of the history and culture.  Nerd,” he added with a grin.

“You’re just jealous that I can appreciate the world in a much higher sense than you,” I countered.

“Maybe a little.  Teeny bit.  Not a lot.”  Chann held his thumb and forefinger half-an-inch apart.  “This much.”

“Hey, I haven’t got much to be jealous of!  I’m gonna take all I can.”

Chann chuckled and rolled his eyes.  “We should get supper before it gets any later.  Eat in or get takeaway?”

“Takeaway from Ta Ca.”

“That Asian fusion place on East Oglethorpe?  Sounds great.  I’ll pull up the menu and you can order while I run you a bath.  You look really sore.”

“Just a little.”  I rubbed my neck, flexing any number of strained, sore muscles.  I swallowed against a wince.  “What do you want?”

“The spicy crab roll and the soft shell crab appetizer.”

“Well, aren’t we in a crabby mood?”  I let out a bark of laughter as he threw a pillow at me.

“Don’t make puns!”

“Who’s making puns?!”

“You and your skinny gay arse, that’s who!”

I gave Chann a playful shove and opened up the Ta Ca Asian Fusion & Sushi Bar (I swear, every place in this town has either a long or obnoxious name) menu on my phone.  I scrolled through, glancing indecisively over pretty much everything on the menu, before finally settling on the miso soup and a cucumber roll – I’d go vegetarian tonight.

I groaned softly.  My thoughts were drifting back to Sasuke again.  The more I tried not to think about him, the more he popped into my head.  There was just something so unusual about him…  I didn’t get it.  He seemed to be hitching a ride on each one of my thoughts.  How was that even possible?  He was still on my mind when I finished placing the order, just moments before Chann called, “Bath’s ready!”

I went upstairs and smiled.  Chann had filled my bathtub almost to the brim with steaming water that fizzed blue with a bath bomb.  He had turned on the jets, suction-cupped my inflatable bath pillow to the edge of the tub for me to recline on, and lit two vanilla candles (which for some reason reminded me of Sasuke).  Soft ambiance music gave the bathroom an almost spa-like quality.

“You really know how to pamper me.”

“I’ve been taking care of you for a while now; I know what you like.  You’re gonna have a hell of a time training up Sasuke,” he teased.

“Hmm.”  I rotated my finger, gesturing for him to turn around, and began to undress.  Chann obediently faced the other way as I kicked off my underwear and sank into the pleasantly hot water.  “You can turn around now.”

“Right-o.”  Chann turned back around and sat down beside me.  We silently enjoyed the soft ripple of the water moving around me and the relaxed beats coming from his speaker while we waited for the deliveryperson to arrive.  When they did, Chann went to answer the door and I sank deeper into the bathwater.  Stars above, it was so warm and pleasant, and I could feel my pores opening up and my skin smoothing.  Baths were the best.  I let out a small burst of air, sending a spurt of bubbles onto the surface of the water, and giggled.

“Cutie.”

I scowled at him, trying to hide my embarrassment.  “Hello to you too.  Got my food?”

“Yep.”  Chann clipped a bath tray over my lap and laid my food on it.

I smiled and began to eat; Chann settled on the step of the tub and somehow finished his meal before I finished mine.  I was just about finished when he asked, “What do your new swords look like?”

“See for yourself.  They’re with my clothes.”

I once again sank lower into the bath, reveling in the hot water and wincing slightly as a jet pulsed against my neck, as Chann stood up to get my swords.  I absentmindedly fingered the sheath on my thigh and had the fleeting thought of how terrible it was that I had a weapon on me at all times, even in the bath and when I was asleep.

“Mirai?”  Chann’s voice was suddenly dark.

“Yeah?”

“Why is there blood in your pants?”

I froze.  “Wh-What are you talking about?”

“There’s blood in your pants.”  His voice was unnervingly quiet and level.

“There’s no blood in my underwear.”

“Don’t lie to me!” he spat.  He whipped my underwear into the bath, sending a slap of water into my face.  A small red discoloration leaked into the water.  “There is blood in your pants!  Why the hell is there blood in your pants?!”

“You’re hurt.  How did you get hurt?!”

“I’m fine!”

“Bollocks!  People who are fine don’t bleed from down there!  Where are you hurt?  Who hurt you?  Tell me!”  His emerald eyes were as hard as the gemstone but nowhere near as beautiful.

“It doesn’t matter!”  The bloodstain on the water was getting bigger.  It wasn’t just from my underwear now.

“Yes, it does!  Whoever hurt you needs to pay!”

“Chann–”

“No!  Don’t argue with me!  One last time, Mirai:  who hurt you?!”

I flinched at the anger in his voice.  I had to say something.  “I did.”

I hated lying to him.  I wanted to tell him the truth.  But telling him the truth would break the pact, and the second the pact broke, his life – and the lives of everyone else I loved – would be in danger.  I had to lie.

“Mirai, I thought you were past self-harm!”  Fear strangled his voice.  “You haven’t done anything like this in years, and you promised me you wouldn’t!”

“It wasn’t self-harm.”

“Then what was it?” he demanded.

“I was having dirty thoughts about Sasuke.”  A lie:  I wasn’t having any sexual thoughts about him.  “I tried fingering myself.”  Not a lie:  I tried any kind of masturbation with an unhealthy frequency because maybe one day I’d get lucky and feel something.  “I didn’t have anything to use as lube and I was too rough and my fingernails were longer than I thought.”  Somewhat a lie, not a lie, a lie.  “I made myself bleed because I couldn’t feel any pain.”  A lie:  I could feel pain but not pleasure.  “It was an accident.”  A lie:  the person who did this did it on purpose.

I didn’t know if he truly believed me (Chann was too smart for that) but based on the horror-stricken look spreading across his face, it certainly looked like he did.  I felt wretched; that was one of the worst lies I’d ever told him, besides keeping the pact and the rest of the Sharqiq debacle hidden from him.  My inability to get erections and my obsession with trying to force myself to get them – be able to fucking feel something and be a normal human being! – was so sensitive a topic that Chann never pressed it with me.

He wouldn’t question this lie.

“Champ, please, don’t do this to yourself!  You can’t force yourself to get erections or have sensation down there.  I’ve told you before:  sexual dysfunction is much more common than you think, no matter what genitalia a person has.  You need to stop trying, before you do something to yourself that can’t be undone.”

“I can’t.”  Real emotion constricted my throat.  “If I try hard enough, it has to work…!”

“The more you freak yourself out, the more difficult it’ll be.  You need to relax.”

I gazed down at myself while he spoke.  I touched my shaft, wincing at the determined softness, and traced along the inside of my thighs to my entrance, following the warm trail of blood.  This stupid, broken body of mine…

“I’m just worried about you, Mirai.  I don’t want you to hurt or humiliate yourself out of desperation.  I know you’re eager for a healthy sex life, and I’d hate for you to ruin it for yourself by hurting yourself masturbating.”

Overwhelmed by it all, I started to cry.  I hated scaring him.  I hated lying to him.  I hated being impotent and in pain every day.  I hated these feelings.  I hated everything about this.  Chann pulled me in for a hug, not even attempting to look at my wounds.  I held onto him and sobbed harder.  He was such a good person and an amazing friend.  I was so lucky to have him as my brother.  We might not share blood, but we were brothers nonetheless.  I shared everything I possibly could with him.  I needed him.

And this was just another in a series of lies I’d told him.

“I should get out,” I muttered.  “The water’s cold and bloody.”

“Yeah, you do that.  I’ll, ah…  I’ll leave you to it.”