Today is the day, Luhan had said after bringing Xiumin back to the cage, for the last time.

Are you sure? Luhan had asked, staring into his eyes with an unreadable expression, for the last time. And Xiumin had nodded. Of course, of course.

And now Xiumin sat on the stone bench alone, waiting to go on his last trip to the Emperor's chamber. It still didn't feel real. He only truly felt in Luhan's presence, because of Luhan.

Alone, he began wondering if this was all a dream. He always began doubting everything when he was left alone. What if he woke up and it was all a hallucination? All of this . . . but what could he even call it? A fantasy? But in what fantasy would he imagine sacrificing himself? But in what life would he let someone take his heart, figuratively and literally?

But he had promised and he was sure it was the right decision, the only choice he could make.

His hand wandered up to his collar and the scars on his back burned and itched in hatred. Kill Suho, end his regime, avenge for Yifan and Yixing. He sighed, hand dropping down as he leaned back against the cold, unyielding wall.

He remembered what Yifan had told him in the beginning.

Don't fight. Don't resist. It's easier to surrender before it starts.

How many others had been kept, trapped in this cage before him? How many had died a shell, empty of life, devoid of everything except this miserable hatred? The questions hurt his mind.

He would be a martyr, then. He would do something to better the world and he would live on in Luhan, both of their hearts beating in synchrony.

As he waited for the footsteps and turning of the key, he tried to remember his real name. But he could only hear Luhan's voice, saying "Xiumin" as if it was the most beautiful, most treasured thing in the world.

~ ~ ~

Luhan stood behind a boulder and waited until the distance between him and the guard-captive pair was large enough. Today was the day. Finally.

He trailed after them, trying to feign indifference lest he gave anything away, but every time he moved, he could feel the dagger hidden in the folds of his robe. It sent tingles down his spine when his fingers brushed against the hilt, when the blade knocked gently against his leg.

"Finally that old bastard will receive what he deserves," he thought with wild glee. He could almost imagine the pleasure he would feel as his dagger stabbed into Suho's chest. He could almost hear the desperate pleas, the frantic excuses, the sickening crunch.

He had dreamed of this day for so long, too long.

No one knew how deeply Luhan's hate for Suho burned. The bastard made sure no one knew because it would be a disgrace. How could a Siren Prince, let alone the Crown Prince, be tainted by mermaid blood?

Luhan wasn't whole, wasn't pure. His kind were half-breeds, social outcasts. But he was born in the palace, and who was at fault?

He could still faintly hear the songs his mother had sung, the tales she had told, but the memories were grainy. But he could remember clearly the day when the guards dragged her away; it was ingrained in his mind. "Mermaid," they had spat as if the word burned their tongues. As if they were higher up.

It was betrayal when the Emperor glanced at the maiden with distaste, so cold, so indifferent, so different from how Luhan knew he used to look at her. It was only love when convenient, Luhan realized. Flowery words in exchange for ual moans. It was dispensable, a toy, and he was the byproduct of the game.

And when Suho told him that he now shared Yixing's mother -- a Siren concubine -- and that he should forget his dirty heritage, it was the match that lit the undying fire of hatred.

Luhan was but a child then, but he knew. These Sirens were nothing. Nothing but lies and pride. And one day, he would take over and they would be the lowly ones, the scorned, the scum of the empire. And they would see him for what he truly was.

It was really Suho's own fault, for wanting to play with the beautiful, weeping mermaid; for not killing Luhan back then because he didn't want to admit another mistake. It was arrogance and Luhan would repay him today.

~ ~ ~

Xiumin gave himself to the Emperor, standing still as the current disrobed him. He closed his eyes and swallowed the acrid disgust as Suho leaned in, dived in. It was the last time.

But Luhan was somewhere nearby, hiding and waiting for the right moment to strike, Xiumin realized with a start. And he had never felt the need to escape more urgently than at that moment. He didn't want Luhan to see him in this position, on all fours because Suho liked it this way. He was tainted, sullied, dirty. How could his heart survive in Luhan's pure body?

"What's wrong, my pet?" Suho whispered in his ear, nipping and at it with little flicks of his tongue. Xiumin shuddered inwardly. "You seem . . . tense today." The Siren brought a hand to Xiumin's entrance and it, squeezing him before forcing himself through the tight ring of muscle. "Let me help you, my dear."

Xiumin bit down on his tongue, praying for Luhan to come quickly but wishing Luhan wouldn't witness this scene.

"What are you thinking about, hmm?" the Siren cooed, his voice husky from lust.

When would this be over? Xiumin pleaded in his mind. The wait was more agonizing than the tortures Suho put him through.

As the seconds ticked by and time remained at a standstill, as Suho ed the hope out of Xiumin, he began doubting himself, doubting everything, doubting Luhan.

"I know what you're hiding," Suho suddenly said, stopping his movements and staring into Xiumin's eyes. The captive was frozen in place from both the fear and the magic. "Would you like to tell me, or-"

"Let me tell you."

Explanation of Luhan's story here