SDR2 SPOILERS!

Blood. Blood. Blood.

"Young Master!"

The last thing I could see out of my right eye was Peko's shocked expression, droplets of blood splattering on her dark clothes. Her sword was raised above her head, like she had been in control of it, but the disbelief on her face told me otherwise.

Just as the thought flickered across my mind, agonizing pain stopped me in my tracks, making all my movements and thoughts slow to a halt as the pain was seared in my mind.

Peko dropped her sword, rushing on over to me. I could barely feel the cool skin of her hand pressing against my bleeding eye, the white-hot pain making the rest of my skin go numb.

"Young...Master...I do apologize..."

Pulling me to her chest, I could hear the quick, somewhat even beating of Peko's heart, but the footsteps of the machines almost drowned it out.

It was when the noise came closer that my heartbeat sped up, when I could hear the shing of the blade being lifted out of its sheath-

"Fuyuhiko?"

Shaking myself out of my flashback, I glanced over at the swordswoman that sat across from me.

Fuyuhiko. Not Young Master.

No matter how many times I had insisted, Peko had always called me by 'Young Master', and nothing else.

But that was before all this, before we were trust into that damned game, before Peko was executed, before she awoke from her coma.

We never would've guessed that she- along with the other three that had woken up (Gundam, Nekomaru, and Teruteru)- have amnesia. Not only of the Mutual Killing game, but of her whole life.

Of our whole friendship.

"Fuyuhiko?"

Again, I blinked as she waved a hand in front of my face. "Sorry," I mumbled.

Peko allowed her hand to drop to her side, analyzing me with keen crimson eyes. "Very well," she murmured.

I focused on the bandages now wrapped across her fingers , the same fingers that had been cut by the slip of my knife. Just the smallest amount of blood speckling Peko's clothing had sent me spiraling back to that day.

"...You all right?" Shit. How pitiful.

"Yes," she responded in the same tone she always used with people she didn't know well. Detached. "I'm fine. Thank you for your concern."

Just the edge behind her tones, the hidden guard made my stomach tighten. It's almost like she didn't know me.

She doesn't remember you, I reminded myself under my breath.

"May I ask you a question?"

I lifted my head in response, and Peko set down the potato slicer, glancing at the shaved potato before tossing it in the pot.

"Go ahead. I don't really give a shit."

"What did I awake from?"

A nightmare. A nightmare. A nightmare.

"...a fucking coma. So what?"

She raised an eyebrow at my choice of words. "And why was I in a coma?"

Shit, over the boundary. Sonia told us not to speak to them about the whole game until they get comfortable.

"Er...you were attacked by...swordsmen. Yeah, swordsmen."

Her gaze didn't waver.

"Dammit. Nevermind," I scowled, shoving the uneaten sandwich away from me.

"It has to do with your eye injury, doesn't it?"

I hate her and her damn intuition.

"No, goddammit. Shut up," I said.

Finally leaving the subject, Peko went back to work peeling the potatoes. I watched her hands for a moment before deciding to leave the room.

X - O - X

"Teeny Gangster?"

My eyes flicked open at the nickname, and a growl rumbled at the back of my throat as someone lifted my fedora off my head. On instinct, I squinted at the person who did so. "What the hell, Owari?"

Akane Owari lifted her shoulders in a shrug, dropping my favorite hat on the floor as she did so. "I was gonna go train," she punched her fist. "But I saw somethin' there that ya might wanna see."

"Whatever," I grumbled, reaching down to snatch up my fedora, then swinging my legs over the side of the bed and headed towards the door.

She stopped me.

I opened my mouth to swear at her, but she flicked a finger at the area above my right eyelid. "Eyepatch, Babyface. If Peko sees your injury, she'll probably flip."

"She wouldn't," I said under my breath but did what she said, walked over to the tabletop, and strapped my eyepatch over the half-healed injury. "It's not like she cares, anyway."

She shot me a wild grin. "Sure."

"And for the last fucking time, don't call me-"

Akane left the room before I could finish.

I shoved the fedora on my head, muttering under my breath as I stole a glance at the alarm clock near my bed. The green display blinked annoyingly back at me, revealing that it was about four in the morning.

"Akane, why the hell would you be training at five in the morning? And is it worth my damn time?"

X - O - X

"I think this is the first time she's picked up a sword since she woke up," Akane whispered from behind me, her voice low. The action was very un-Akane-like in my opinion, so I resisted the urge to jump and just kept peering through the crack in the door.

Peko didn't miss a beat as the worn dummy as ripped to shreds by the sleek blade, moving from the target onto the next. Without warning, the weapon whipped through the air, followed by a series of slashes the swordswoman had accurately (and perfectly) executed.

She never lost her touch with a blade, I mused.

The shuffling of feet told me Akane has left, and honestly, that made my shoulders sag with relief.

"Fuyuhiko, would you kindly explain why you are watching?"

Ah, damn.

I kept silent, hoping that she might just mistake it for her instincts. But I was wrong when a white flash scarred the wood that was (really) close to my face, and I couldn't help but release the unmanly yelp. "Shit, Peko! You nearly cut my fucking eye open!"

The said woman nudged the door farther open, glancing at me with her blood red eyes. Her cold gaze sent shivers down my spine, and her eerie eye-color did nothing to help.

"Why were you watching me?"

"Akane- I mean- you're- shit."

She sighed, the action causing several locks of her silvery-grey hair to billow out of her face, offering me a hand. "You're a terrible liar," she informed me.

I rubbed my neck as I pulled myself up, averting my gaze as my cheeks burned. "Goddammit, stop shoving it in my face."