Archive of Our Own

“This is,” Momo whispered, “without a doubt, the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”

“That’s a really high bar to clear,” Yuki whispered back.

“Sneaking into a war zone,” Momo listed. “Telling Okarin we were going on a vacation to the beach specifically so we could sneak into a war zone, so that we have no backup. Disguising ourselves as fruit vendors despite carrying a grand total of three apples. Swallowing lockpicks even though we have no way of knowing if we can get them back up again or when we’ll need them. Sneaking into a war zone. We could definitely die here.”

“Or we can find and rescue King Takanashi and win the war,” Yuki whispered back.

“We barely know how to use swords, darling!”

“Maybe we won’t need swords,” Yuki said hopefully. “Maybe we can just break in and sneak him out.”

“We are going to die,” said Momo, but he followed Yuki anyway. The setting sunlight reflected off of the dark pink soulbond heart on his cheek and the silver glove covering his right hand. This was not the stupidest thing Momo had ever done. The stupidest thing Momo had ever done was a series of the best choices he’d made in his life, choices he couldn’t bring himself to regret, ones that led to a soulbond and a love for the ages.

And one that, Momo knew, had snapped the soulbond hidden underneath Yuki’s glove clean in two.

The worst part wasn’t that the bond was broken. It wasn’t even that Momo couldn’t bring himself to mention it to Yuki. It was that, if Momo were thrown back in time five years to when Ban had suddenly vanished, he wouldn’t do anything differently. He would follow the same path, and have the same regrets as his first time around.

Though maybe he wouldn’t tell Ruri nearly everything again. As selfish as it was, he was glad that he hadn’t been able to tell her about Yuki’s broken soulbond. He was glad that she didn’t hate him as much as he hated himself.

Momo and Yuki managed to sneak past the guards and nearly had made it to the dungeons when they ran nearly right smack dab into a trio of teen boys.

“We’re definitely supposed to be here!” Momo said quickly.

“No, you aren’t,” said the tallest boy.

“We’re fruit vendors,” said Yuki. “We’re here to sell fruit.”

“With expensive, uselessly fancy clothes like that?” asked the one in the middle. “Yeah, right. We’re not idiots, you know.”

“You’re an idiot, Gaku,” grumbled the smallest, and then he took a deep breath and yelled out, “Guards!”

“Oh no,” Momo said, and then he and Yuki bolted.

They didn’t make it very far, though, and soon were dragged down into the dungeons, freshly bruised and handcuffed and in low spirits.

“I’m sorry, Momo,” Yuki said morosely. “I pushed us into this and got us caught…”

“Don’t worry, darling!” Momo said. “I’m sure we’ll be able to escape in no time, and besides…” He leaned in closer to Yuki’s ear and whispered, “Besides, they’re definitely keeping King Takanashi in here. We’ll be able to break him out in no time!”

Yuki nodded. 

One of the guards snorted. “Escape? Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody escapes from here.”

“That’s what you think!” Momo said hotly as they were brought past a cell with a blonde teenage girl in it, watching them intently. The Princess Tsumugi, perhaps? “My darling Yuki and I can do anything, including escape from here with ease!”

“No, you won’t,” the guard said. “We don’t let spies get away.”

“We aren’t spies,” Yuki said. “Well, maybe Momo could be a spy. But if he were he wouldn’t come here with me, because I’m not. I’m a singer. I mean a fruit vendor.”

“You can’t even keep your lies straight, can you?” said the guard.

“It isn’t a lie,” Yuki said, offended. “Look! I even have fruit in my pockets. I’ll sell it to you right now.”

The guards looked at Yuki as though he was crazy, so Momo kicked them, getting a smack in the face for his trouble.

“Hey!” Yuki shouted. “Leave Momo alone!”

“How can you stop us?” sneered the guard. “You can’t do anything.”

“Watch me,” Yuki said, but was unable to pull away from the guard. They were frogmarched down the halls of the dungeon, until they reached a large cell with several occupants: a collection of teenage boys, pressed against each other near the back, and a thin, gaunt man, face framed by long blue hair, stood near the bars, watching them intently.

Yuki stopped cold, his mouth opening and closing without a word until he was prodded forward and into the cell. Momo watched in confusion as he and the unfamiliar man stared at each other, different emotions racing over their faces, and as Yuki began to reach up with his gloved hand--though he rarely did anything with it--one of the guards spoke again.

“Two new prisoners…” he said. “Two new sessions.”

“I’ll take it for them,” the man said lowly, and his voice was familiar to Momo as his own, and when he reached up to brush his long hair out of his face, a crescent moon in the silvery-white of Yuki’s soul stood stark against the skin on the back of his hand.

Ban.

The guard smirked, as though he had been expecting this, and the other two guards grabbed Ban by the arms, tight enough to bruise although he wasn’t struggling. The warring emotions that had crossed his face when he’d seen Yuki had faded, and now he just looked blank, resigned.

“No! Ban!” Yuki shouted. “Don’t take him, don’t touch him! Take me instead!”

“And me!” Momo added. “You said two, right?”

The guard looked them over with a smirk. “Aren’t you two quite the little heroes?” he said. Ban was staring at them now with horror as the guard said, “Very well, then,” and Ban was let go. Yuki and Momo stood there as the guards moved towards them again, Yuki’s eyes never leaving Ban’s face, but Ban darted in front of them, his arms held out as though making himself a bigger target would make the guards more likely to grab him instead.

“No,” Ban said.

The entire cell went dead silent, the teenagers in the back staring at Ban as though he had grown another head, rage twisting the faces of the guards. Then the silence was broken with the crack of flesh against flesh as the guard’s hand slammed into Ban’s face, sending him stumbling backward a step or two before straightening back up and stepping forward and squaring his shoulders, blood dripping down his face.

“What,” said the guard, “did you just say to me?”

“I said,” Ban told him, “no. No, you cannot take them. No, you cannot touch them. I already said I would take their place in the sessions, so unless they specifically have to be punished for some treason or other, I will be the one taking it.”

“Hm,” the guard said. He smirked. “It’s funny--I didn’t think you were still capable of saying no.”

Ban’s hands trembled, but he balled them into fists and stood his ground as Momo and Yuki watched, helpless. Yuki couldn’t seem to decide between staring at his soulmark on Ban’s hand or the tense set of Ban’s shoulders, held tight as though, if he loosened them, he’d start shaking and never stop.

“I am perfectly capable,” Ban said quietly, “of saying no. I just haven’t had any reason to do so of late, because nobody was idiotic enough to give me the opportunity.”

“Opportunity, huh?” said the guard. He hit Ban again, and Ban didn’t even flinch, taking the hit and returning to his previous position. Momo glanced at Yuki, whose hands had balled into fists and who was shaking all over, but who couldn’t get to the guards without knocking past Ban, who had just been hit twice and whose nose was almost certainly broken.

“Opportunity,” Ban said. “I would be happy to continue, if you don’t let me protect them.”

“No--Ban, please,” Yuki said, sounding wrecked. “Please don’t get hurt for us. We can take it--you don’t have to--”

“Yuki, I love you, please shut up,” Ban said, and Yuki did--though whether it was because Ban had asked or because the first words Ban had said to him, after five years, after the snapping of their soulbond, after everything, were Yuki, I love you, Momo didn’t know. “This isn’t any of your business. You don’t need to protect me.”

“We want to, though,” Momo said quickly, because Yuki had shut up and had pressed the back of his trembling, gloved hand to his mouth.

“Don’t,” Ban replied. “Whatever they do to me, I can take it. You two can’t. So just--give up, and sit down, and it’ll be easier, for--everyone involved.”

“You’re very good at taking it, aren’t you?” said the guard with a smirk that said he knew something Momo didn’t, and Momo very nearly shoved his way past Ban to kill the guard with his bare hands, but Yuki let out a snarl and one of Ban’s hands--the soulbond-free one--snapped back to grab Yuki’s wrist and physically held him back.

“Don’t take them,” Ban said, almost begging. “Take me instead. I’ll do--whatever you want. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just--don’t touch them, please .”

“They’re the ones who look like they’ll be causing the most problems.”

“And I can stop them from doing that! They’ll listen to me! Just--please, please, don’t touch them, please .”

The guard paused, thinking it over, and Momo prayed that whatever Ban wanted to take their place for, he wouldn’t be allowed to do it.

“Very well, then,” the guard said. “But--they’re watching. And I would like them to be a nice, well-behaved little audience...though if they cheer, we will of course extend the show.”

Ban nodded, and his hand removed itself from Yuki’s wrist as the guards grabbed him again.

“What the fuck do you mean, show?” Yuki demanded.

“Shut up, Yuki,” Ban said, and Yuki shut up, and Momo preemptively bit his lips closed as they were all led out of the cell, the boys in the back watching, still as statues. The three of them were brought to a small room like a mausoleum with a stone slab in the middle and every manner of weapon and some strange bottles and powders on the walls. Ban sat quietly on the slab, and the guards even turned their backs to him as Momo and Yuki were solidly chained to the walls.

“Ban…” Yuki said softly.

“Yuki,” Ban whispered. He smiled tremulously at him. “Just close your eyes, okay? Close your eyes, and look away, and don’t say anything, either of you, and it’ll be over soon enough, I promise.”

Yuki did neither of those things, and for the first time, Ban’s eyes flickered to the glove covering Yuki’s right hand and the deep blue crescent moon that Momo hadn’t seen since the day Yuki had broken the soulbond and it had started fading. His gaze shuttered, a little bit, and then he turned away and lay flat on his back on the marble slab. Yuki looked away guiltily, and Momo squeezed his left hand. Yuki squeezed it back tightly as one of the guards started up a fire in the far corner of the room, and placed a couple metal rods in it before walking over to where Ban lay still on the slab.

“Please,” Yuki said, “please don’t touch him.”

The guard looked over at Yuki, and smiled, and said, “Oh, look. An interactive audience.” Then he picked up a knife and, in a single, deft motion, cut a long, thin strip of skin away from Ban’s arm. 

Yuki yelled out. Momo lunged forward, trying and failing to reach the guard, pull him away from Ban, whose skin hit the ground with a wet slap, splattering Momo's face with blood. Ban, however, barely seemed to react, letting out only a pained gasp as his skin was torn away.

Then, the man repeated it, again and again, until both Yuki and Momo were screaming for him to stop, calling Ban’s name again and again, pulling against their restraints as hard as possible. Momo felt the handcuffs cutting into his wrists, probably bruising them, but he didn’t care, because as the blood pulled around Ban, who had graduated from pained gasps to full-on hyperventilation edged with the slightest hint of whimpers, the guard brushed past Momo and Yuki and picked up a vial of powder, stepping out of Momo’s way as he lunged at him with his teeth.

“Aren’t you two enthusiastic?” the guard said, managing to get past Momo’s teeth to pat him and Yuki on the head. “It’s been a while since I’ve had an audience this encouraging.”

Yuki literally growled at him, but the guard just laughed, nearly drowning out the pained gasps coming from Ban up on the table. Then, the guard reached a small brush into the vial and began to dust it onto Ban’s wounds, and his back arched up from the table and he howled in pain.

“BAN!” screamed Yuki, lunging forward again before the chains yanked him back. Ban just kept screaming, as the guard used one hand and what appeared to be multiple metal spikes to keep him pinned to the table despite his wild thrashing. “BAN! BAN! PLEASE, JUST STOP HURTING HIM!”

The guard met eyes with Yuki and smiled, before removing the spikes one by one and replacing them with the metal rods from the fire, and suddenly the scent of cooking meat filled the air. Ban’s screams somehow increased, breaking apart into desperate, breathy sobs, and Yuki screamed in harmony, his voice cracking and breaking apart as he begged for mercy, for the guard to stop hurting Ban, to take Yuki instead. The guard only laughed, and, Momo realized, he was enjoying this. Enjoying Yuki’s begging as much as Ban’s screams, enjoying the way the both of them lunged against their restraints to try and pull him away from Ban. Just as Momo realized this, the guard paused, hummed slightly to himself, and smiled, before taking his knife and Ban’s hand, and then quickly and deftly cutting away his soulmark, tossing it across the room to hit Yuki in the face.

Yuki froze, suddenly, and went utterly silent, picking up the flap of skin from the ground and looking at the silvery-white moon, as vibrant as the heart on Momo’s cheek. He gasped, once, tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Ban,” he moaned. “Ban, I’m so sorry.”

Ban just continued screaming, the screams broken apart by breathless sobs.

“What is it?” the guard mocked. “Don’t stop cheering now--the show only gets better from here!”

“Cheering…” Momo echoed. “Show...you’re getting off on this, aren’t you?! You like hurting Ban! You like seeing us try to stop you!”

“You just noticed?” asked the guard. “Your pleas are encouragement. ”

“No,” whispered Yuki. “No. No. No. No. No.”

“So...the more we beg for you to hurt Ban less, ” Momo said, “the more likely you are to hurt him more ?”

“That sums it up rather nicely, yes,” the guard said pleasantly.

“Why?” Yuki asked brokenly. “Why would you do this to him?”

“It’s fun,” the guard said flippantly, “and it pays well, because most people don’t want to do it.”

“Don’t you think that says something pretty damning about you as a person?” Momo asked.

“Does it?” the guard said, disinterested, and as Ban’s sobs began to die down, he yanked out the metal rods and returned them to the fire. Yuki clamped both hands over his mouth as they watched the guard hover over Ban, holding another strange vial. Ban had gone still, the hand that had once held the mark of Yuki’s soul dangling limply over the edge, blood and a strange black substance trickling down and dripping onto the floor.

Yuki scooted forward quietly as the guard went to work on Ban’s torso, doing something that seemed to include removing something that looked an awful lot like wiggling, wet tubes from Ban’s insides, shining slick with blood that slid on them, dripped off of the stone slab, and splattered on the floor. Ban was whimpering slightly, but his screams had stopped, and slowly, ever so slowly, Yuki reached and and touched the tips of his fingers to Ban’s. Ban’s hand flexed, slightly, and then it grabbed onto Yuki’s with all the strength it possessed. Yuki used his other hand to grab Momo’s again, and they squeezed each other’s hands, trying to maintain a perfect silence, as the guard worked away busily in Ban’s torso and Ban whimpered. Occasionally, he’d go still and silent again, and then the guard would pour more of the substance onto him and he’d come awake with a gasp. His fingers would always tighten around Yuki’s, too, and Momo didn’t have to be looking at his husband to know the words he so desperately wanted to say: Ban, I’m sorry, Ban, I love you, Ban, I want to protect you.

It was Momo’s fault that Yuki couldn’t protect him now, couldn’t do anything but kneel on the bloody floor desperately pressing his fingers into his oldest friend’s hand. It was Momo’s fault that Ban was laying on that stone slab, having his organs played with like a xylophone, instead of being safe in King Okazaki’s court with Yuki. This was all Momo’s fault. He never should have soulbonded with Yuki after Ban left--never!

The guard finally stopped playing with Ban’s insides, and for a moment--just a moment--Momo let himself hope that this was over. That Ban would be left alone--hopefully given healing magic--that he and Yuki would be able to take him in their arms and hold him close, and escape with him back home and beg Okarin’s forgiveness for lying to him about their “beach vacation”. Sure, they wouldn’t have King Takanashi and the means to end the war, but...this couldn’t go on any longer. Momo couldn’t let it go on any longer.

The guard picked up one of the metal rods again, glowing orange-white from the flames. Yuki gasped, and Ban’s hand tightened around his fingers as the guard stepped closer and then wrapped one of the wriggling bits of Ban’s insides around the hot part. Ban screamed, and screamed, and screamed, as the scent of cooked meat filled the room once more, and Yuki leaned further forward, curling his finger’s closer to Ban’s as he wailed and screamed and then suddenly, awfully went dead silent. His hand went limp. The guard swore, and poured more of the liquid onto Ban, but nothing changed.

“Pity,” the man said. “It’s really too bad he didn’t last longer...well, there’s always tomorrow.”

“Burn,” Yuki said, voice trembling, “in hell.”

The guard smiled. “No,” he said. He then walked out of the room, called: “I broke him again! Send the healer!”

A few moments later, another guard came in, grimacing at the smell. “I always hate this part,” he complained, holding a hand over Ban’s broken body. The tiny soulmarks dotting his wrist glowed, and then Ban’s rent and burnt flesh knitted itself together again. Ban’s hand remained limp against Yuki’s fingers, but--Momo noticed with a flash of relief and then pure terror at its implications--he could hear Ban’s breathing again, slow and a little too loud. Which meant he hadn’t been able to hear Ban’s breathing a moment before.

Which meant that Ban hadn’t been breathing a moment before.

Momo glanced over at Yuki, squeezing his hand, but his partner’s eyes were shut tight as he squeezed Momo’s hand back and gently rubbed his fingers against Ban’s. Then Ban’s hand was pulled up and out of Yuki’s reach as the healer sat Ban up and--oh no--pulled off his shirt, which was mostly bloody tatters at this point, and cast it aside, doing the same with some bloody fabric that Momo realized had once been his pants, and then, taking a basin full of water and a cloth, started to scrub the blood off of Ban’s no-longer-injured body. Through it all, Ban just sat there, staring blankly in front of him, as he was cleaned off and the only remaining evidence of the torture was the blood coating nearly every surface of the room and the metal rods in the fire in the corner, still stinking of burned meat. Then the healer dressed Ban again, and left. The guard followed him to the door, but paused at the threshold and said, “If this room isn’t spotless by the time I return, the two new ones will be having sessions of their own.”

Ban raised his head slightly, nodded. “I understand,” he murmured. The door closed, and he remained sitting there for a minute, staring down at his hands until he let out a shaky breath and stood, walking over to a hook on the side of the door where keys hung, his bare feet splashing in puddles of blood. He reached out, hand trembling just slightly, and took the keys, and Momo felt a surge of relief when he saw the crescent moon in the silver-white of Yuki’s soul once more on the back of Ban’s hand. Ban walked over to them, and knelt quietly in front of them, deftly unlocking the chains.

“You don’t have to help me clean,” he said quietly. “I was the one who made the mess, after all. It just--being chained up sucks, doesn’t it? I want you two to have to experience it as little as possible.”

“Ban,” Yuki said, reaching out a hand as though he wanted to hug Ban but wasn’t sure if he should, “Ban, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ban said. “You didn’t know. Just...stay safe and out of trouble for me, okay? I promise, if you just do that I’ll be able to keep you safe.”

“They tortured you, Ban,” Momo said, feeling ill. “That’s--that’s not okay.”

Ban shrugged and stood. “It’s just how life is,” he said. “You two just relax. I promise I’ll get this clean.”

“No way!” Momo said, scrambling to his feet. “We’re helping you. We’re your friends, right?”

Ban’s eyes alighted on him, and a smile lit up the hollows of his cheeks. “Right,” he said. “We’re friends. Yes.” A teasing glint entered his eyes--faint enough that Momo wasn’t sure it was there--and he added, “Congratulations on the soulbond, you two. If we’d reunited and you weren’t together, I think I would have had a stress ulcer!”

“...I’m in love with Momo,” Yuki said.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Ban replied, still smiling. He turned away, opened up a box in the corner, and pulled out a towel. “You only told me half a million times.”

“We’re married,” Yuki added.

“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding?” Ban started mopping up blood. “Rude.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuki said. “I wanted you there--I just couldn’t find you. And...our soulbond…”

Momo went very, very still as Ban’s shoulders slumped. “It’s faded, hasn’t it,” he said quietly.

“...Yeah. It looks...it...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for that, Yuki,” Ban said. “It’s still intact, isn’t it?”

Luckily, he didn’t seem to expect an answer, and Yuki didn’t give him one--lie or truth. Instead, Momo scrambled to his feet and hurried over to the box of cleaning supplies, grabbing a towel and smiling brightly at Ban. He’d found that all his brightest, most comforting smiles came when he was on the verge of tears, and the smile he gave Ban was one of the best he’d done in years.

“I can get this clean, Ban!” he said. “Why don’t you sit down and relax? Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Ban shook his head. “I made this mess,” he repeated, even though it was totally untrue, “it’s my responsibility to clean it. And...Momo.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve seen what this place is like.” Ban turned away, continued scrubbing. “How can you possibly think that anything is going to be okay?”

The three of them got the place clean in what felt like a little over an hour. Momo insisted on being the one to take the metal rods and scrape the burned bits of Ban’s flesh off of them, trying his hardest to not imagine Ban having to do this all alone, to clean all this alone, in fear of having another “session” like this one or having to watch one of the young boys he’d seen in the cell go through this. Ban had mostly ignored them, focusing on cleaning, his shoulders slumped and head low. Yuki hovered between Ban and Momo, scrubbing blood off of the metal slab, looking like a meteor caught between two orbits. When the room was finally spotless, and Ban checked it over three times, he went back over to the box in the corner, pulled out a clean set of prison clothes, and quickly changed before pulling out two more sets and bringing them over to Yuki and Momo.

“Here,” he said. “They won’t fit perfectly, but...at least your clothes won’t be covered in blood anymore.”

Momo and Yuki glanced at each other. They both were thinking about the knives and spare lockpicks sewn into their clothes, the vials of sleeping potion disguised as buttons. If they changed, they’d lose all that and be reliant on the set of lockpicks Momo had swallowed before entering the castle in the hopes that he’d be able to vomit them back up again.

“I...I like the clothes that we have on, sorry, Ban,” Yuki said. “I think we’ll keep them.”

Ban nodded, frowning slightly, and went and put them away, carefully closing up the box afterwards. “...You’re planning on escaping, aren’t you,” he said, voice dull.

“Yeah,” Momo said. “And we’re gonna take you with us! You and those kids we saw in that cell. Nobody’s going to hurt you ever again.”

Ban huffed out a laugh. “I’m sorry to disappoint,” he said. “If you try, I won’t be coming with you.”

“Of course you will,” Yuki said.

“I won’t,” Ban said. “It’s impossible to escape from here. No one ever does. And if you try...you’re guaranteed to regret it. That’s something that even I can’t protect you from.”

Yuki walked over to Ban. He reached out again, his silver glove now wet and red with blood, before lowering that hand and raising the other one, cautiously placing it on Ban’s shoulder. “I really missed you,” he said. “I don’t want to leave without you, Ban.”

“You won’t,” Ban said. “No one leaves...unless they’re taken away to be executed, like His Majesty was.”

“King Takanashi was executed?” Momo asked. “What about--what about his soulbond to the land?! That shouldn’t have been able to be broken...and I’ve heard rumors about multiple different ways of getting the ruling soulbond out of the country in case of something just like this!”

“I don’t know,” Ban said. “I just know...they took him, early on one day, and said they’d figured out a way to ‘get around the problem of the heir and the spare’ and took him away, and then the guards were talking about an execution the next day.” Ban paused. “...The last thing he ever said to me was to take care of the younger kids and to stay strong, because everyone was relying on me now.”

“Well, they can rely on you, and you can rely on us!” Momo said stubbornly. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know?”

Ban sighed. “I’m sorry for leaving like that,” he said. “I really am. But I couldn’t let Kujo get his hands on you, Yuki.”

“You could’ve come back after he left,” Yuki said.

Ban looked away and moved slightly out of Yuki’s reach. “No, I couldn’t have,” he said. “I was happy, working as His Majesty’s advisor, and you and Momo were together. I knew he would be the perfect partner for you, and I didn’t get want to get in the way of that.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten in the way!” Yuki said. “You should’ve just come home. Then you would have been safe.”

Ban shrugged. “Maybe I don’t deserve to be safe,” he said. “Besides, I’m home now, aren’t I?”

“What?” Yuki said.

“I’m with you again,” Ban said, “and I have my boys, and I know the princess is as safe as she can be, for now, so I’m content.”

This was, in the end, what broke the dam for Yuki. Momo moved towards him as he crumpled as though he’d been punched in the gut, and hugged him tightly when he started to cry, large gasping sobs.

Ban hesitated before reaching out and placing a hand on Yuki’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was too much for you, wasn’t it--I’m really sorry, Yuki.”

“It’s not your fault,” Momo told Ban quickly. “We’ve both been really worried about you, Ban.”

“Well, hopefully you won’t have to worry anymore,” said Ban, as though Momo could do anything other than worry madly about him after watching him get tortured for an entire afternoon. Yuki seemed to agree, since he sniffled into Momo’s shoulder and then reached back and grabbed Ban’s hand as tightly as he could. Ban’s face softened, and he used his free hand to card his fingers through Yuki’s hair. “I’m sorry you guys had to see all that,” he said. “Hopefully this was the only time it’ll happen. It was nice of you to hold my hand, though, Yuki. That...that was really comforting to me.”

“Of course,” Yuki said, straightening up and wiping his eyes. “I’ll hold your hand forever, Ban. I promise, we’ll never be separated again.”

“Dumbass, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Ban said fondly.

“Yuki always keeps his promises!” Momo said.

“Does he?” Ban asked, thumb running over the top of his soulmark. Momo and Yuki both fell silent and looked away, the familiar guilt rising in Momo’s throat again.

“...I’m definitely keeping this one,” Yuki said stubbornly.

Ban sighed. “If you say so,” he said.

When the guards came back, they were all frogmarched again to the cell. As promised, Yuki held tightly to Ban’s hand the entire time, and used his other hand to keep hold of Momo’s. But when they were back in the cell, Ban pulled away from them, instead going over to the teenage boys, quietly reassuring them and stroking their hair as they hugged him tightly. Momo watched them for a minute before tugging Yuki over to the far corner of the cell.

“We need to escape, ASAP,” he whispered. “We especially need to get Ban out of here as soon as possible.”

Yuki nodded emphatically. “I don’t care whether or not King Takanashi is alive,” he said. “Okarin said his brother and him had a plan for that, so it’s probably going to be okay without us. We need to get Ban and the kids here and the princess out, though, because that’s who Ban said he cared about.”

Momo nodded. “How about tonight?” he said. “It’s soon enough that there hopefully won’t be any trouble with the lockpicks, and--mmph!” Yuki pressed his hand over Momo’s mouth, and Momo licked it on instinct before seeing why Yuki had muffled his words.

Ban had come over, a faraway look in his eyes, and he slowly sat himself down next to Yuki, pressing his arm just slightly against him--just enough so that, if Yuki pulled away, he could probably pretend like it had been a mistake.

Yuki did not pull away. Yuki immediately hugged Ban as tight as he could, and Ban just melted into his embrace. He pressed his face into the crook of Yuki’s neck and held him back tightly, as Yuki curled himself protectively around Ban and Momo started watching for the guards.

They would get out of here tonight.

They would get out, and they would get Ban and everyone he loved out, and everything would be okay. Ban and Yuki would fix their soulbond, and Okarin would yell at them for putting themselves in danger, but that was alright. Everything would be okay. The princess would be safe, and all of the kids in here, and Ban would never get tortured again, would never look at them like he was lost and didn’t quite know why they were there, never again.

Momo was sure of it.