title: Alphabet Soup
fandom: many - about 26
characters/pairings: manymany
rating: Teen
warnings: sex, romance, goofiness??
summary: a little bit of this, a little of that...
notes: i challenged myself to an alphabet meme, and many on my friends list helped me out by picking characters. (well, mostly clare, and therhoda...) i liked it, though, and i liked doing it, so... i wanted to preserve it? ^_^;;;;;;;
many thanks to everyone who requested names, especially clare, therhoda, and my aisoku, for playing cleanup and coming up with the final 3. ^_~

A is for Akira, so studious and cute...

He sat, almost still, staring at the board. And then he looked over at the kifu. He hadn't made a mistake. He looked at the board again. He picked at his bottom lip.

Hikaru sat down behind him, and wrapped his arms around him. "Akira. It's three in the morning. How long are you going to stare at that?"

"Just a bit longer," he murmured absently.

Hikaru reached around him, and pulled his hands away. "No. Come to bed. You can stare at that until you're ninety. You aren't your father. You won't ever think like him.

"We'll find our own Divine Move. So when you look for it, make sure I'm the one on the other side of the goban."

"Hikaru..." Touya blinked, looking up at Hikaru in wonder.

Hikaru blushed. "What? I'm tired! So sue me for waxing poetic or whatever." He tugged on Touya's hands. "Let's go to bed."

Touya chuckled, and stood up. "Ok. Let's. Idiot."

"Heyyyyy," Hikaru protested, but he followed Touya dutifully.

B is for bun-bun, Honey's favorite toy (maybe second favorite)...

the stuffed rabbit was discarded and forgotten, but he was face up, so he could watch Honey swaying on top of the tall one's shoulders. he knew that Honey liked that tall boy almost as much as himself, so he was happy to see Honey so well-cared for, because the tall boy's eyes were always on Honey.

the stuffed rabbit understood.

after all, Honey was pretty carefree and he could be reckless, but there was no one else who could hug a person who was really just a stuffed rabbit so that even his stuffings knew.

Honey was good at love.

the tall boy smiled as Honey hugged his head. of course, he couldn't see with Honey's arms wrapped around him like that, so the stuffed rabbit was a bit concerned, but the tall boy would never let Honey fall.

the stuffed rabbit watched them, and was pleased, most of all, because he'd been allowed to watch over his beloved Honey.

C is for Choutarou, who is so very much in love...

Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes, and leaned back against the wall. Everyone had their own way of handling things after a match. It was different, of course, if they won or lost. But Choutarou wouldn't know about losing. That match against Seigaku came the closest, because he didn't feel they had really dominated. But they never lost.

He would never let Shishido-senpai down like that.

Shishido-senpai, after a win, would jog two laps around the court and take a drink at the water fountain that had the most Hyotei supporters near it. He liked crowds and he liked owning the crowds. He liked to have the spotlight from Atobe-buchou for at least that long.

Choutarou preferred quiet, and solitude. It was like... afterglow, maybe. While they owned the court together, they were like gods together. They were of one mind, one body, acting with one will.

Walking away from that, and giving Shishido-senpai back to the crowds...

Choutarou just needed a few minutes. He needed to breathe, and cool off. He needed to remember.

Shishido-senpai... was just his tennis partner. And... friend. And...

That was all. For now.

D is for Dickie, who gets screwed by canon...

His eyes snapped open, and he groaned. He turned, and touched Barbara's shoulder gently. And then harder. And then, "Hey, Babs. You awake."

She groaned and growled a bit, but that just meant that she was awake.

"I just had a terrible dream," he pouted. "I was in Metropolis, and Jason was pretending to be me to kill people, and I became a male model, and I was going down the runway dressed as Nightwing, and then I jumped off the runway to attack Jason... well, that's when I woke up."

Barbara looked over her shoulder at him, blinking. "...A model?"

And she snorted.

"Hey!" He blushed, and spooned up behind her. "I could be a model!"

"Yeah," she chortled. Chortled. "Ok. 'Night, Male Model Wonder."

"Heyyyyy," he whined, but she refused to even crack open her eyes again. He put his head on her shoulders, though, and whimpered.

If he wasn't sleeping, then she wasn't, either.

E is for Edward Elric, who always means well...

He was always getting into trouble. But his mom only ever got exasperated, she never got mad. He was honestly grateful for that, more than he could ever tell her, but when she got that look in her eyes...

He wished like hell she would beat him or scream at him, or tell him she hated him. It would be so much easier.

Al was at home, helping mom with dinner, so it was ok to slip out. He was supposed to be up in his room, thinking about what he'd done. He had thought about it before he'd done it. And he'd calculated the risks. And he'd clearly made some mistakes, but...

He snuck into the garden of the mayor. Sure, it was a risk, but it was the only place he knew where to find one. And it wasn't really stealing, because these flowers were just growing here, they weren't ever going to be sold or anything like that. And he just wanted one. One was ok.

He was careful, though, because he couldn't handle any more trouble. He just took one white rose, and he brought scissors, so he could get it as quickly as possible. He dethorned it in the bathroom at home, after running back as quickly as he could. He cut his fingers up a bit on the thorns, but that was exactly why he needed to get rid of them.

He put it on his mother's pillow, and had his hands all washed up before she called him down to dinner. He didn't look her in the eye all through dinner, but Al kicked him in the knee, so he offered to do the dishes.

He just wanted her to be proud of him.

F is for Faye, who enjoys teasing @#$%...

She waits over two hours to shower until he's out in the common room. She gets the smallest towel possible, and ties it provocatively around her body, and she saunters out to the shower. She knows he isn't going to look, and if he did, he would just make some snide comment.

That wasn't the point.

As she walked through, her stomach flipped. She hit the jackpot tonight. He had the lights turned down low, and he was going through his martial arts training. He was shirtless, and he was moving his legs around in slow, graceful arcs. His body...

She closed the door behind her, and dropped her towel, letting her hands slip down to lazily rub at her body.

She was going to take a nice long shower, and think about her legs wrapped around that narrow waist.

G is for Goh, who turns straight men gay...

Goh leaned in closer. This boy was just his type. Slim. Young. Lips parted sensually, belying the lack of innocence. Those dewy eyes. He liked the way the boy was touching him. Needful. Wanting. Simple.

Sex was supposed to be simple. Too many emotions, and he just ended up hurt. This was much better. He slipped his hand up the boy's shirt, and leaned down, kissing those lustful lips.

The taste of Taki's stolen kisses taunted him as the boy failed to push that sensation away.

He took the boy home, anyway, and fucked him on the kitchen table, as punishment for Taki. After all, it was all Taki's fault that Goh was falling again.

or maybe it's for Ginji, who has an electric personality ...

Most of the time, well, things weren't going so well. But sometimes, sometimes, things went really well. And, of course, he always knew, that as soon as things started to go well, they'd turn around and go ten times worse a minute later.

Best to enjoy that one minute of good times, then.

He stuck his feet out of the window of the car, and stretched out a bit. On top of him, Ban-chan groaned a bit in protest, but he wasn't about to wake up soon. Ginji ran his fingers through Ban-chan's hair, even though he knew he was just making it more staticy.

Ban-chan looked better with his hair like that, anyway.

H is for Haji, devoted to a fault...

He heard the song, and Saya had told him about it, so he was wary, but... it was so beautiful... It sounded faraway, like it was playing only in his head. She could be miles away, right?

He took out his cello, and tried to pick up the thread of the song. After a few minutes, though, he abandoned that plan. Her voice was like a bird in the sky, so high and uncertain. His cello would be the earth, steady, and waiting to catch the bird should it fall.

He forgot, for a moment, that she could just as easily be right behind him.

A hand touched the back of his neck, and he spun around, dropping the cello. There was laughter, and she grabbed his wrists as he tried to strike out at her. She was fast, much faster than Saya, and she was strong. She pushed him down onto the ground, and straddled his waist. He held both of his hands easily in one of her, and she touched his hair, his face... she put her hand over where his heart would be beating.

"Unfair, unfair. Saya-neesama has all the best things." She giggled, and took one of his hands, and put it on her breast. "But we're the same, aren't we? Does Neesama let you touch her the way you want? I want... to be touched everywhere by these hands. I want to cut out your heart and choke Neesama with it." She threw her head back and laughed, and he was able to push her off.

She jumped back, back over to the roof of the next building. "I'll come back for you, Neesama's toy. I'm going to steal your heart from her."

Her laughter echoed for a long time after she left. He looked down at his hand.

Would... Saya's breast really feel the same, he wondered?

I is for Ibu, who has something to say...

If the sun kept shining like that, his shoes would melt to the ground. Actually, it only felt like that, but he'd melt. Tachibana-san shouldn't want to see him melt. It wasn't his fault that he was late. It was technically his fault and he knew it was important to be punctual, but he was still at practice before the work out began, and he had already stretched out. It required a lot of stretching to climb up the tree, and he had been sure he'd seen a kite up there. Kites got stuck in trees all the time. It was a perfectly reasonable assumption. He'd climbed up really high, and there was no kite, so he wasn't sure why he'd thought there was one, but that was beside the point. The kite he'd seen that wasn't there was a really beautiful kite, with pretty tails. Tachibana-san would have liked it, if it had been real, and not a figment of his imagination. And that wasn't his fault, either, because he didn't ask his imagination to create a figment. Really. Making him run laps was just mean. Tachibana-san could be really strict. Too strict. Running laps was pointless, anyway. It was too hot to run laps. A good punishment might have been to sit in the corner and think about what he'd done. He hated that when he was in kindergarten. He always thought about what he did, anyway. People were mean and stupid.

"Shinji." Tachibana-san stood in front of him, holding out a water bottle. "That's enough. Want to play me?"

Shinji stared at him for a moment. He really wanted to get Tachibana-san that kite, too. "Yes."

J is for Jin, whose blade is the best...

He wondered about death sometimes. What it felt like, if there was fear, what happened... Not his own death, of course. He accepted his own death when he accepted his sword. It was the essence of what it meant to be a samurai to him.

But those he dispatched. Honorless dogs, as far as he was concerned. They picked up the sword in a drunken stupor. They didn't understand, the blood being shed was their own, the lives being tossed away, their own.

He wondered, sometimes, as he watched them die. He wondered, too, as they slept, and he kept watch. Would Mugen's eyes as he died be any different from any other man? They would have to be.

Mugen... was not like that.

Jin longed to see Mugen's death, to see his own in preview.

K is for Kyoya, who always knows what's what...

It was ridiculously easy. Just a simple, airy question about technique and experience. Oh, certainly, he'd agree with Tamaki, feelings were the most important thing. But first impressions could be so damaging... What if turned her off with his kiss?

Ironically, Tamaki had agonized the whole time he thought that Haruhi was a boy. But even though it was quite clear that what he was doing inside of Kyoya's pants was not in any way helpful in educating himself for Haruhi's use, Tamaki was more than eager, and more than talented.

Just as Kyoya had predicted.

Certainly, that girl was good for more than a few things.

L is for Leorio, who is really a teddy bear...

He tipped his head back, and stared up at the sky. He thought studying up here would be better. Fresh air, sunshine... Med school was really... tiring. If he could bust some heads together, he'd feel a lot better.

He was becoming a doctor. Time to stop thinking like that.

It had been three days since he'd heard from Kurapika. Sure, he'd have to wait at least eight more before he'd hear from the Kurata again.

That was what made it so hard.

He picked up his anatomy book. Maybe this would be easier if he imagined it was Kurapika's body.

Kurapika's guts spread all over the wall because he'd pushed too hard...

He threw the book across the roof. He could study later. He'd call Killua and Gon now.

At least they were looking out for each other. He didn't have to worry about them so much.

M is for Mugen, who is wild and a bit crazy...

His blood felt hot. His body was restless. Sometimes, he just didn't get it. That guy... he drove Mugen crazy! His stillness, his fucking calm. And yet, he was the most interesting guy Mugen had fought.

The only one... that it mattered... that he knew Mugen's name.

Fucker wouldn't forget it, either, and one day...

Only damned reason he was trailing after that ditzy girl, to free himself of that promise, because...

Until he tasted Jin's blood, he would never be still.

N is for Niou, who has something up his sleeve...

There were times when Niou was quiet. Times when he was still. When he was... god help him... well behaved. These were actually more frequent than anyone would guess. After all, he never got detention. He wasn't thrown out of class, or the school, or even worse, tennis practice. He was just bad enough to have the rep, and just good enough to not let it get in his way.

Most of the time, when he was quiet, he was watching.

In class, his favorite subject was Yagyuu. He wasn't sure why it was. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. He wasn't sure why it was him, but it definitely was.

Yagyuu would help him reach new heights, in tennis. But.

He was pretty sure, he and Yagyuu would hit new heights in everything else, too. So, today, he was going to skip out on practice, and follow Yagyuu.

And seduce him away from that boring golf.

O is for Omi, who is cute without trying...

Bored, he poked at the flowers. "Hey. When is Aya coming back?"

"Aya and Ken?" Yohji asked, grinning.

Omi blushed, and sunk down a bit lower. "Er, well..."

"They're working. You know that. Don't you have homework?" Yohji teased, enjoying it all too much.

As if he knew everything...

"Shut up," Omi grumbled. "I was just asking..."

"I know, I know," Yohji sighed. "My company isn't good enough. Oh, how my heart breaks... to be done in by a monosyllabic tyrant. But don't worry, don't worry..."

Omi wasn't.

"I'll recover." Yohji came up behind Omi, and slipped a lily in behind Omi's ear. "Hey. They'll be fine. C'mon. Don't you trust Aya?"

"Explicitly," Omi said fervently, slouching even further.

"Patience, then," Yohji said, almost comfortingly, patting Omi on the back.

That was easier said than done, though.

P is for Pietro, who died.

"I'm fine, you know," he wheezed, which belied his words. Leorio smiled at him, but he continued to mix together the noxious-smelling thing he was working on. "I don't need that."

"You need something," Leorio grumbled, scowling.

Thing was, Leorio was smart. Really smart. But smart only went so far. Leorio was easily smart enough to do any damned thing he wanted.

Money made the world go 'round.

"Hey, I've got you. What else could I need?" he grinned crookedly.

Leorio snorted, and smiled.

At least he got the smile.

Things was...

He was being serious.

Q is for Quatre, who wants more than he can have sometimes...

Trowa was smiling. Duo had his arm around Trowa's shoulder, and he was whispering something into Trowa's ear. Was it something sexual? Funny? Was he making fun of Quatre's house? His riches?

Was he just plain making fun of Quatre?

He didn't know why it was so hard to let go. He'd been through this, with Trowa and Duo and Wu Fei and even Heero and Relena and his therapist and three quarters of the Maganacs and his manicurist and his spiritualist. They all agreed. Trowa was his first love, and so, it made sense that he was self-conscious around Trowa.


Why was it... that seeing Trowa's hand on Duo's thigh made his stomach churn with jealousy? Why was he afraid of Duo's poor opinion? Why was he looking at Duo's braid, at his cute little ass, and wondering...

Relena put her hand on his thigh, and he turned to her a smiled. Maybe it was a case of having trouble with a first love. It was just.

He'd be better equipped to dealing with it being Trowa.

or maybe it's for Queen, as in the Queen of the School...

It wasn't so much that he disliked being called Queen. In a way, it was flattering, and he was used to being called a drama queen at his age. He was secure enough in who he was to not really pay it much mind.

It wasn't at all that he was being called the Queen. It was that Niwa was being called King.

That loud-mouthed, arrogant, selfish... egotist was not his King. Not even close!

Of course, he was far above any kind of outbursts of ego that would allow him to express his feelings on the matter, but there was a certain glint to Omi's eyes as he smiled that let him know that at least someone understood.

He had a horrific desire to make Niwa his bitch, just to show who was the King and who was the Queen in this school.

R is for Ryo, who tries so hard to do right...

There was paperwork to be done. It wasn't as if he enjoyed paperwork, per se. But he didn't hate it, either. He understood it, of course. He understood how important the paperwork was, and so he wanted to deal with it seriously, and efficiently.

Dee had unbuttoned his shirt about halfway. It was hot, yes, and the air was... well, it didn't work. There were fans, but their desks weren't close to a window. Dee wasn't exactly strutting about like a gigolo, or whatever, but JJ was openly drooling over him.

Ryo was doing slightly better.

But he was having a hard time reading the form. He filled this out six times a day, at least. Was it the corner of 6th and 10th, or 10th and 6th? And the violation... a 329? A 729? A 629? It was a 29, right...?

A hand came down next to his, and he was surrounded by heat. He turned, and his lips brushed against Dee's jaw.

"Are you almost done? C'mon, I wanna get out of this pressure-cooker. Hurry up."

Dee's scent... his sweat... Ryo could see Dee's nipple...

He hunkered down over the form, and used his hand to shield his eyes from Dee's body. "Sit down, I'm almost done."

Dee grumbled, but he moved away. Damn it.

Ryo glared at the paperwork. He hated paperwork today.

S is for Syuusuke, whose smile is dangerous...

He wasn't good at drawing, so he wasn't sure why he decided to spend the day drawing. But it was unusual to have a day like this. He wasn't drawing on anything special. The pad of paper on the bedside table. The beep of the machines around them was irritating, but it provided a rhythm to things.

He drew Tezuka's hand. It was hard to get the pinched look of the skin under the tape right. The thin tube coming out of his hand... Fuji didn't like to look at that.

Why was he doing this?

Tezuka groaned, and shifted, opening his eyes. Fuji set aside the pad, and touched Tezuka's face. "Don't wake up yet. You blew your shoulder out. Another surgery is set for tonight." Confusion clouded Tezuka's eyes, but the pain took over.

It seemed the pain always took over.

"Sleep, beloved." Tezuka's eyes fluttered shut, and he moaned, slipping back into sleep.

Fuji sat down, biting his lip.

"I'm glad you're here with him."

Fuji turned quickly, but she was gone. Was he hearing things?! That'd be great. But that sounded like...

Could Tezuka's parents be in France?

He sat down, though. Just in case, he didn't want to leave Tezuka's side. He picked up the pad, and flipped the page. He'd draw... Tezuka's sleeping eyes.

T is for Trowa, who speaks when he needs to...

He stretched his feet out, and leaned his head back. Times like these, he thought... perhaps he should take up smoking. It was the right image. He wasn't sure he'd take to it, though. He didn't like the smell of them, but it might be different if he were actually smoking.

The dying man next to him was twitching, and getting his blood on Trowa. He looked at the flecks of red on his arm, little flung out bits of life, dying there on his turtleneck, getting ready to turn a dark brown.

He was never going to be able to wash it out.

He looked sidelong at the dying man. He might have a wife and kids at home... It sucked to be a security guard. Dying for something like this... spare parts for Gundams. Idiotic. His wife and kids will (assuming they exist) be told he's a hero tomorrow, but he'll still be found in a pool of his blood and piss and effluvia.

Life was pathetic.

Heero came running out the warehouse. "03! Let's go!"

He stood up, and poked the dying guy in the cheek. He looked up at Trowa, panicked.

"Relax. At least you have a name to give to the next life."

He strolled off. He was definitely going to need to take up smoking.

U is for Uesagi, Eiri, that is...

He didn't sit in seiza position at the shrine. He was sick of that. He was sick of everything, to be frank. He'd come home because he said he needed time off from work, after all the pressure of a book's release. He was getting older, and it wasn't getting any easier. Everyone had understood.


Shuichi had cried, and begged, and whined, and cajoled, and finally... he just gave up.

It was the giving up that bothered Eiri.

He couldn't doubt that the kid was still madly in love with him, and would do anything for him. It just. It seemed like.



He might have wanted.


Shuichi to come with.

Which was insane, of course, because it wasn't work or book signings or anything like that he was running away from. It was the spastic rock star who occupied his every waking and most of his sleeping moments. He just plain couldn't keep up with the little sugarbomb.

And yet.

He flopped down onto his back and fished around for cigarettes. Well.

Maybe he'd call Shuichi. After lunch.

V is for Vicious, who lives up to his name...

He'd seen him naked a million times. Or close to. It wasn't quite like war. There were some aspects - not many, but some - to the trenches that he preferred to the streets. But in either place, modesty was thrown out the window, and efficiency's demands were paramount.

He'd seen this body bloody. He'd seen him fighting. He'd seen him filthy. He'd seen him cleaning himself. He'd seen him washing up. Sleeping. Dancing. Cooking.

He looked into those bicolored eyes, and grinned, slowing down the pace of his thrusts, just to frustrate him.

He knew, it had to be. Spike looked different now, different than at any other time, because of the blood, the pounding blood that they shared.

Even if that bitch got in the way, Spike would always come back to him.

W is for Wolfram, who is engaged to a cheater...

He watched them, his chin in his palm. He really didn't see the point. Tossing a small, hard ball between them... catching it in that weird leather glove... Yuuri loved this damned sport so much.

Why was it that Konrad had to be the only one who could play with him?

He worried all the time. He loved Yuuri so much... but he was such a cheater, right down to his bones! And...

Wolfram wasn't entirely sure that... Yuuri really...

He sighed, and closed his eyes. He hated this damn sport. It was just another thing that kept Yuuri out of his reach.

or maybe it's for Waya, who plays too much Go...

He liked to take the subway to the Go Institute. He liked the cramped trains full of people. He used to... and he wasn't proud of this, per se, but he never had gotten caught... he used to pick pockets on the train.

Until he joked to Isumi-san about it, and Isumi-san had looked at him seriously, and told him how awful he thought that was.

He liked to go out to eat for lunch. He preferred the rush of getting to someplace and eating in the time allotted. He liked to sit next to Isumi-san, and push in closer, making room for other students. They would look at each other sometimes as their arms brushed together, cramped as they were for space.

Sometimes, though, one of the girls would get to Isumi-san first.

He loved every second of being a pro. He loved the feeling that he was free, that he was an adult. That he was good enough. He loved looking for an apartment, and he loved dressing up to go to matches, and he loved going to school, sleeping through class because it no longer mattered, and he only had a few weeks left before his education was formally over.

But until Isumi-san became a pro at his side, he wouldn't really know what it meant.

X is for Xanatos, who has been a bad boy...

He didn't really understand why hate was such a bad thing. It was just like love, really. But Jedi were afraid of love, too, weren't they? And yet, he would put money on about half of the Masters fucking their sweet little Padawans.

It wasn't fear that led to the Dark Side, it was fucking hypocrisy.

Love and hate were mated emotions. There was no denying either of them. It was embracing those emotions that birthed control.

He pushed his fingers through Jinn's sexy little Padawan's blood. The only thing that made that pale, slim body more beautiful was decorating it like Xanatos had. If the hypocrite Jinn could see him now, he'd have such a hard on.

Pity. Jedi were denied love, sex... life. Xanatos embraced them all.

He grabbed Obi-Wan's Padawan braid, and pulled his head up for a brutal kiss. He'd have to fuck Jinn's Padawan for him. If he could turn this beauty to the Dark Side...

Well, that would be just the perfect gift for his former Master, wouldn't it?

Y is for Yukimura, who's not quite what he seems...

After one thirty, the nurse's really didn't have anything else to do in his area, and while the children sometimes came to play with him, it wasn't a regular thing. Most days were like this, sitting in his hospital bed, listening to the sounds of the sick all around him, reading...

He was growing to hate books.

He watched the clock, just exactly as if he were at school. End of classes... end of cleaning... down to the club house... start of practice...

He wasn't at all convinced that Sanada was good enough. Oh, he was certainly good enough himself. But to lead the team...

He couldn't expect to see Sanada before five, at the earliest. Most nights, he came at seven, sneaking in some decent food for Yukimura. Every night, when Sanada was describing practice, he wanted to tell him to shut up. He wanted to tell him that he wasn't fit to lead the team. He wanted to tell him that his time would be better spent at Yukimura's bedside.

He smiled, instead, because the truth was... he wanted to be able to hold Sanada's hand whenever he liked. But if he could...

He'd almost certainly never let go.

Z is for Zechs, a right sexy man...

He slammed the door to his bedroom, and then he overthrew the bedside table, because the door slamming wasn't quite enough. He picked up a vase, and he was going to smash it against the wall, but...

It was actually a rather nice vase, and it was irreplaceable. He should destroy something more disposable.

Of course, in the Khushrenada house, everything was expensive, beautiful, and irreplaceable.

Frustrated, he plopped down onto the bed.

The door cracked open, and Treize snuck in, closing the door behind him softly. He smirked at Zechs.

Annoyed, Zechs turned his face, and lifted his chin.

"I'm angry with you."

"I know," Treize grinned, seemingly happy. He came closer to Zechs, and sat down next to him. "You stormed off because I was flirting with that girl."

Zechs frowned, and lifted his chin a bit higher.

Treize reached out, and caressed Zechs' jaw line. "But..." He leaned in closer, and put his lips against the shell of Zechs' ear. "You're still a million times more beautiful than she."

"Is that supposed to make me happy?" Zechs retorted. "Go back to her. I don't care."

That was a lie, though, and fortunately, Treize knew it.