Every time Sanidine was in the Dark Kingdom, it felt like his skin was crawling. Teleporting down was far from pleasurable, and this whole place made him feel sick. He partly expected hidden Senshi and Knights to jump out and attack him. He didn't feel like he could sense anyone's energy down here; it was just some humid, messy haze of Chaos energy. Maybe it didn't bother everyone, but it bothered him.

He had never wanted to be down here, and it was worse after the whole invasion. There were people that were staying down here, working their asses off to try and repair everything, but he was just sort of screwing around.

Well, no.

He actually had a very important job. The only reason he'd even dragged himself out of bed, in fact, was to find more information on youma. To find out what happened to them.

It was something he'd never really thought about—not until it was a reality he had to face. But then, it wasn't until Evan had become a youma that he really even thought about what they were. He'd always assumed they were just monsters. Sure, maybe they'd been human before, but humans could be monsters.

But, Evan wasn't a monster. Evan was just…Evan. Stupid, weak, useless Evan, who had even less purpose as a youma as he'd had as a human.

It was almost reassuring to pick on Evan, like he was still alive. Like he was still there to get mad. Like he was still there to stomp all over the house and b***h about Zack hurting his feelings.

But there was a hole in Zack that he'd never known was there. He hadn't known how much of it Evan had filled.

Sure, he had Cambria now—and he cared about Cambria in a different way than he'd cared about Evan. He and Evan had dated, but he'd known from the beginning that he didn't love him. It was a relationship based on convenience, and need, and Evan had given it his all and Zack had half assed it. And Evan was either too blind to see it, or too desperate for the attention to care.

It had been fun, in the beginning. Having someone who needed you. Someone to follow in his shadow, to do what he wanted.

But Zack had to put on an act around him. He didn't break down in front of Evan, ever.

And that had worn down on him.

Evan expected him to be strong, and to keep him safe from all the troubles in the world. Evan had expected him to clean up his act and be a better person, be a respectable person. Evan had expected him to fall in love and give him the happily ever after he dreamed of but wouldn’t talk about.

And Zack just wanted something else.

Zack was a prideful man, and he had been for as long as he could remember. It just became a chore to be everything Evan wanted. Evan took care of his needs—and after he moved in with him, that meant Zack could rely on food, and a clean house, and all the comforts of a relationship, and in return all he had to be was perfect.

Zack wasn't perfect, and he wasn't ever going to be perfect.

So he'd decided to end the relationship. It was what was best for both of them.

He couldn't be what Evan wanted him to be, and Evan would never be what he wanted.

But Evan had been desperate to keep him. Evan wasn't ready to let go.

Which was frustrating, and alluring, because Zack wasn't even a good boyfriend. He didn't give half as much as he took, but there was Evan, stupid and desperate to keep what they had because he thought that was good.

And Zack had a hard time telling him to ******** off, even if that's what he knew was best for both of them.

So he let Evan stick around. He let him pretend like there was a chance things would work out. He started pushing Evan's buttons, started going out of his way to see what he could do to make him tick. How many times he could ignore the phone when Evan needed something. How many nasty comments he could make about Evan's hair. How many times he could forget an anniversary. How many times he could stand Evan up for a dinner date.

He tried to piss Evan off, tried to make him think it was a good idea to leave him.

But Evan always forgave him.

Zack suspected it wasn't just because his parents had kicked him out and he didn't have anyone else he could trust; he knew Evan wasn't just using him for free housing. Evan could have sucked it up and gone home, back to his room. He could have apologized for all the grief he'd given them and they'd have dealt with it, because his parents might have been assholes, but they hadn't touched Evan's room since their arguments chased him out of the house.

No, Evan forgave him because he really, stupidly, thought there was something for him in Zack.

And maybe, because he'd stuck around, Zack realized there was.

Except, he'd been so focused on chasing Evan away that he forgot why he kept him around in the first place.

Because, despite everything, Zack liked having him around. He liked the food. The way Evan would slave over a hot stove for hours, just for one stupid meal. Zack could microwave something and be happy, but he'd seen Evan set alarms hourly just so he could wake up and make sure their 'fancy Sunday dinner' was coming alone fine.

He'd teased Evan so badly he'd cried, and even though it was one of the best meals he'd ever eaten, he told Evan it was overcooked and overseasoned.

There was a sick part of Zack that enjoyed the crestfallen expression, but there was a human part—that only showed itself, now, after it was too late—that felt guilt.

Evan put more effort into a single meal than Zack had ever put into their relationship, and Zack had mocked and humiliated him. And then he'd gone out with friends, got drunk, and come home at five in the morning, and even though he knew Evan had probably cried himself to sleep on the couch, Evan had gotten up to help Zack change his clothes, get him some water, and tuck him in bed.

Sanidine scoffed, because it was the only thing he could do right now.

He'd been thinking about Evan nonstop. It was sick. It was maddening. He was fixated on the worst mistake of his life, but the more he thought about this mistake, the more he thought about all the other ones.

All the ones that lead up to this.

Because, even though he didn't want to think about it, didn't want to admit it, he'd made mistakes almost as bad as this. But Evan had always forgiven him, so it was okay.

Before, at least.

Now that Cambria was in the picture, scolding Zack and chastising him for picking on Evan, the whole picture had changed. She was the softness that he couldn’t be. She was the softness that he needed—and that Evan craved. Now, Cambria was around to poke and prod and gripe about how he treated Evan, but she didn't understand. She'd come in so late that she missed the beginning. She missed when Zack had started out nice—gruff, but better. Now, he was just tired.

Trying to chase Evan away had been a game, and it was one he'd found himself enjoying. He'd stopped seeing Evan as a person—as someone he cared about—and as a nuisance. A pest that needed to be driven away.

But the longer Evan stayed, the more he endured, the harder it was for Zack to let him go. It was a twisted game of tug of war, only Zack was doing all the pulling. Pulling Evan one way, and then the other, because he was so desperate to see him gone and so desperate to make him stay.

Evan would have been better if he'd left, but he was the one that chose to stay. He should have left years ago, but instead he stayed.

So Zack hated him, and loved him, in that strange way that he could.

Sanidine's hands were shoved in his pockets as he tried to navigate through Negaspace, or the Dark Kingdom, or whatever the hell they called it. He vaguely remembered where there was a treasure trove of information. Books, or computers, he didn't care. He'd go through all their paperwork if it meant finding the right piece of information.

There was something he was missing, and now he was certain of it. He should have paid more attention to youma, but he'd always considered them a tool. It was only important now that his was missing.

Each step he took was cautious; he still expected some sort of ambush—from either friend or foe. Not that he could really tell the difference these days; he hid from his equals and superiors all the same, as if he had something to be ashamed of. He'd done his part, defended against the intruders during their invasion.

…And then he'd totally ******** up a corruption, but they couldn’t know. Well, maybe they could—that was where all this fear stemmed from. He didn't want them to know he'd failed. It was his dirty secret. He didn't even know if he could lie and say that he'd done it on purpose, or if they'd laugh at him for thinking he was strong enough to do what one of their General had done. Or if they'd try to punish him.

No, this was punishment enough.

He wasn't even in love with the kid and it was tearing him apart. The thought of not seeing Evan's smile, or his scowl even, was a good punishment. Knowing that he might not hear Evan's scoff, or laugh. Knowing that all of Evan's hopes and dreams had been crushed by him.

Zack had never really been supportive, but he was envious of Evan's passion in the kitchen. The way Evan threw himself at his cooking like it was the only thing he had.

…Probably because it was the only thing he had.

No thanks to Zack, of course, who felt the sharp, biting guilt of years of harassment and torment. He didn't know who to blame more—himself, for doing it, or Evan for letting him. If Evan had stood up for himself, Zack wouldn’t have been so worried about him. He never would have tried to recruit him into the Negaverse. Hell, if Evan had a little more confidence, he'd probably be off dating someone else, living his happily ever after. Maybe even working in a real restaurant, and not the kitchen of some shitty bar.

But they'd both made bad decisions, and this is where they wound up.

Sanidine, desperate and searching for a fix, and Evan…what, dust?

And it just didn't sit right for the Captain.

He knew he was in denial. In the dark part of his heart that he wouldn't acknowledge. His mind had been telling him since the day he'd youmafied Evan that he'd ******** up and there was no going back. There was no fix to that, and there was no fix to this. His heart was what was stopping him from just listening.

So, with his emotions blocking out rational thought, that meant he was planning on spending the next…eternity digging around in the Negaverse's records and archives, trying to figure out what the ******** ever they knew about youma and what happened after a senshi splattered them into a wall of dust.

He approached the room, dragging his feet but held head high, even if only for appearance's sake. He looked like s**t and he knew it; he'd slept but didn't feel rested. A bag hung off his arm; he'd come prepared for a long term cram session.

Just like high school all over again.

Except, this time he wasn't going to half a** it.