After the fall of the Oval Tower, Mink disappeared for a while. He needed time to heal; not from physical injury, but from mental fatigue. After devoting so many years of his life to seeking revenge for his people…his family…he was lost. Now that it was over, he had no direction. He wasn't prepared for a life beyond his face-off with Toue. He was prepared for death, his and Toue's; nothing more and nothing less. But he hadn't taken into account Aoba and his ragtag group of friends.

Aoba…the boy had a way of drawing people in and not letting them go. Mink knew that Aoba's voice - and Scrap- had a lot to do with it, but it was more than that. There was something about Aoba himself that made others want to protect him; a vulnerability that the kid tried to hide. But Aoba had changed after his ordeal in Platinum Jail. Whatever had happened between him and his AllMate, Ren, during those last hectic moments at the Oval Tower had a lasting effect on Aoba. Even now, nearly three months later, there was a deep sorrow within him that nobody was able to remove.

Mink understood its cause all too well. The people Aoba held most dear had been injured or changed in some way during that battle, and he had been the cause of much of it. But the worst of it was that the two people Aoba loved more than anybody, Clear and Ren, were gone. Clear had been severely injured during the battle but, even with Tae-san and her mysterious assistant working to repair him day and night, there was little hope of success. And Ren -not an AllMate after all, but an entity who had separated himself from Aoba- had disappeared altogether. Nobody knew where he was or why he disappeared. He was simply…gone. And that had nearly crushed Aoba.

Koujaku did his best to be there for Aoba, but he had changed as well. He was still trying to come to terms with his feelings for Aoba. They all were, Mink had to admit. But it was far more unsettling for Koujaku than the others. For a man who had solely been interested in women, the unexpected realization that he wanted Aoba was difficult to understand.

Mink had recognized this want in himself early on, but had mastered it and put it behind him. The person that held Mink's attention more and more often lately was the maniac…Noiz…Wilhelm. The stupid kid had nearly gotten himself killed trying to save them all at the tower. He was in the hospital even now, his body broken in so many places it was a wonder he had lived at all. And he had nearly lost that battle, hanging on by the thinnest of threads.

When Mink had first learned from Aoba -via Tori's stealthy surveillance- that Noiz had never been able to feel pain, he had been surprised, although it did explain the maniac's penchant to just run in with fists blazing. But then, just when no sense of pain would have been beneficial, Aoba's Scrap had changed Noiz; had given him feeling. And when the tower tumbled, it took Noiz with it.

Mink made his way to the hospital as he thought about these things, careful to stay out of sight. Though he kept close tabs on Aoba and the others, he didn't want them to know he was around. Let them think he had tied at the tower. It would be for the best. Tori, his cockatoo AllMate, was a big help there, watchful for any familiar faces, flying ahead to ensure the way ahead was clear.

Mink had changed his appearance slightly, though not to the extent he planned on once he returned to his homeland. He had removed his dreads, opting to keep his hair pulled back in a loose ponytail at his nape. He had changed his attire to something that would draw less attention. He kept the contacts for now.

When he finally arrived at the hospital, Mink bypassed the nurse's station altogether and headed directly to Noiz's room. At his door, Mink paused just long enough to listen, ensuring that the kid was alone. Hearing nothing but the mechanical blips and bleeps from the arsenal of machines wiring around, Mink pushed open the door and went inside.

Noiz lay with his eyes shut and a strangely peaceful look on his face. Mink watched from the doorway for a moment; watched the steady rise and fall of the kid's chest. The usual harsh lines of Noiz's face were softened by sleep, making him look even younger that he already did. Just a kid, really, Mink thought. He sighed and moved forward, stood at the foot of the bed and thumbed through the medical chart suspended there. Noiz had suffered quite a few injuries; broken ribs, broken arm, broken leg, broken fingers, ruptured spleen, concussion…It was a long list. Mink kept flipping slowly through the pages until he came to one that caught his eye. Prognosis: expect a complete recovery. Nodding to himself, Mink started to replace the chart but spotted another bit of information that he hadn't expected so soon. Patient regained consciousness at 02:00 hours…Interesting. He rehung the chart and moved around to the head of the bed.

"…Oi," he called gruffly.

A flutter of eyelids let Mink know that he had been heard, so he waited. Slowly, Noiz opened his eyes, taking a moment to focus on where he was and what had happened. When his eyes came to rest on Mink, he frowned slightly.

"Why are you here?"

Mink ignored his question and, instead, pulled a small stool closer to the bed and took a seat.

"I see you survived…maniac," he said at last.

Noiz turned his face toward the window, sighed when he noticed the pulled blinds, and looked back at Mink.

"I'm not a maniac."

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts, each wondering why Mink was there. Noiz closed his eyes again, and for a moment Mink assumed he'd fallen asleep. Instead, the younger man spoke into the silence.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Nm…What are your plans when you get out of here?"

Noiz looked intently at Mink. "Why do you want to know?"

Again, Mink ignored the question and simply watched the kid. Noiz frowned again and then decided to change tactics.

"You changed your look."

"Nm…"

"Why?"

Mink looked thoughtful for a few minutes and Noiz began to wonder if he was going to ignore that question as well. Finally, Mink responded.

"It was time."

Another silence filled the room, this one less awkward that the first. Noiz closed his eyes again, and this time Mink knew he was fighting sleep. He stood up and Noiz opened his eyes.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Nm…I'll be back."

"Why?"

Mink didn't respond. He simply turned and left the room, leaving Noiz to stare after him.

Over the next week, Mink returned to visit Noiz each day and the conversation was much like it had been on that first visit. Little was said, but an odd sort of camaraderie began to grow. Mink wasn't really sure why he kept returning, day after day. The kid was a pain in the ass. But there was something there worth saving; and he could see some part of himself in Noiz. So, he kept showing up.

Noiz seemed a bit more distracted than usual, his frown more pronounced, his eyes a little less lively. Mink thought he knew why.

"Aoba's been to see you."

Noiz gave a non-committal shrug and continued to frown up at the ceiling. Mink watched him closely and didn't miss the slight tightening of his jaw.

"So you know," was all he said.

"Yeah."

Aoba had made his choice and Noiz wasn't it. Mink could see the hurt and confusion in the kid's face, but he wasn't about to let him pine away for something that just wasn't meant to be.

"What are your plans?"

Noiz turned his face away and gave another shrug. "I don't know."

"Do you hate him now?"

Noiz quickly turned to face Mink, sending pain shooting through his body. Mink waited him out, let him catch his breath and gather his thoughts.

"I don't hate him."

"Nm…"

"What about you?" Noiz asked, trying to steer the conversation away from himself.

"What about me?"

"You wanted to die, right? You didn't get to. So, what are your plans?" Noiz asked.

Mink studied Noiz's face again and considered what to share and what to keep to himself. Truth be told, until that moment he hadn't really had much of a plan. He knew he would return to his homeland, but after that…he hadn't thought much about it.

"Where is your home?" he asked Noiz. It has been pretty obvious the kid wasn't originally from Japan, what with his coloring and his odd accent. The question came out of the blue and Noiz blinked in surprise.

"Germany."

"Are you going back?"

Noiz thought about it. Did he want to see the parents who had abandoned him so long ago? The parents who had locked him away from the world, so ashamed of his condition that they had wished he had never been born? No, he didn't want to see them. But…his little brother, Theo…that was different. He wanted to see Theo. He wanted it very badly, he suddenly realized.

Mink watched the unusual display of emotions as they crossed Noiz's face; pain, anger, want, surprise…So Noiz had changed, too. He was growing up, Mink realized. Not the Mink saw him as a child, exactly. But he was young and foolhardy. He lived for the moment and didn't plan for his future. Mink stopped his thoughts there. He had no room to talk. The only future he had planned for himself was to not have one, so who was he to judge? He gauged Noiz's reaction to his previous question and asked another.

"There is someone you want to see back home?"

"Yeah."

"And then what?"

"I don't know." Noiz shrugged and looked fixedly at Mink. "What about you? What are you going to do?"

Mink gave a brief and almost indiscernible smile. He stood up and headed toward the door. Just before he exited, he turned back to Noiz.

"I'm going to take you to Germany. And then…I'm going to take you home."

Noiz stared after Mink long after the door had closed behind him. Home? Where was home? What did he mean by that? But then…did it really matter? He had no plans. Aoba had been his plan and that was not an option. He would just have to learn where home was…what home was. And he thought it might be interesting to learn who Mink was. His decision made, he closed his eyes and slept.

Outside of Noiz's room, Mink paused. Why had he done that? What on earth had possessed him? But the more the thought about it, the more he realized it didn't matter. Noiz needed guidance and Mink need a reason to move on. He had a plan. It wasn't an elaborate thing, but it was enough. He could live and move on with just that much.