"I hate the word doll. It's such a useless phrase. Objectifying something as little more than a child's toy. A prop, made for others enjoyment, but designed to feel none of its own. It's a cruel existence, an orderly, manipulated, cruel existence.

As I gaze down on her face, I hope for a sweeter meaning. Something of her fragility, her beauty, her stillness…

No.

She has never been a doll to me…

She is so much more than that."

She still stayed in the water an awful lot. Although her spectre had not appeared for months. Is she looking for her spectre? Hei wondered. He wouldn't know, for he wouldn't ask. She was rarely so tranquil these days. He didn't want to disturb her inner peace, which he had recognized as being so fragile.

Yin had been racked with guilt since her awakening at Hell's Gate so many months ago. She had never shown a great deal of emotion, making her upset all the more surprising and painful. Yin would often cry herself to sleep when she thought Hei to be dormant. When she had finally fallen asleep Hei would exit their cabin, and struggle with his own tears.

It was a terrible sound. Yin sounded broken when she wept. Wounded, like a small animal. Desperate for shelter and terrified to be heard. Hei had tried to bring it up once, but Yin wouldn't speak of it. Her time with Izanami was a mystery to him as well. He felt the secrets lie between them, an estrangement. Hei was not scared of many things. He had fought many men and contractors, and killed most he fought. He had been beaten, imprisoned, tortured, burnt, frozen, teleported, and taken outside of space and time, but nothing could ever scare him more than the thought of losing Yin, especially out of his own cowardice. Hei stood up, walked towards Yin, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I think we'd better get some rest." He said. "Yes." Yin replied. She left the water with him, and they both walked away from the riverbank towards their cabin.

Inside the cabin, Yin sat alone. It was intensely quiet, with not a sound but that of her silken tears gently dropping into the fabric of her dress, and her occasional quiet sob. A breeze from the window sent a chill through her. Yin got up from the bed, and walked towards the door. Unseeing, she tripped over a loose floorboard and fell. Clumsy, useless, you can't take care of yourself, you're just a burden on him Yin thought to herself. She propped herself up on her forearms. The tears came stronger now. 'Shut up! He'll hear you! You know he has more important things to do than babysit you! Yin thought, and these thoughts were true. Hei had to worry about gathering food and water, keeping watch for anyone after them, and most everything else. I do nothing, I'm useless, she couldn't hold the sobs back any longer. She let them go, and wept.

Hei stood outside the door, listening to Yin's quiet sobs inside. He cursed himself for his inability to help. The sobbing suddenly grew louder, and it took all He's willpower not to storm the room and embrace Yin. To just hold her and let her sob into his shoulder. He felt tears begin to stream down his own cheek. He had not felt this powerless since Izanami had taken control of Yin. It might as well have never left her, she was still trapped within herself. What kind of idea is that? Are not grateful for her escape?' Hei thought to himself. He was grateful, but maybe he hadn't liberated her, something as perfect as her, might not be able to live in a world like this, maybe Izanami could have made her happier than I can, he wondered. He heard the doorknob turn, and he hastily wiped away his tears.

Yin emerged from the doorway and wrapped her arms around Hei. She had stopped sobbing, but her eyes were still red and puffy. She nestled into him, and Hei took her hands and held them. He looked into the sky, looking through the various stars. Occasionally falling, signaling the death of a contractor. He searched for ones he knew. Mao's, Suou's, his own. He suddenly thought back to Tokyo, he thought of Huang, and Misaki, Gai and Kiko, his old landlord Misuzu, and all the others. I don't know if I would say I miss Tokyo, but it certainly did have upsides. Hei turned to face Yin, looking directly into her pale purple eyes.

"Yin? Did you like Tokyo?" Hei asked. Yin thought about it. "No, you were always away. With other people…" Yin trailed off.

This took Hei by surprise, it had not occurred to him that Yin would be jealous. This brought a faint smile to his face.

"Did you like Tokyo?" Yin asked. Hei looked down at her, "I'm not sure."

He ran a hand through her silver hair, stroked her cheek, and pulled her close. The way the moonlight flowed through her hair was one of the most beautiful sights Hei knew.

"I love you." The words were hardly a breath passing his lips. Was that out loud!? Hei wondered to himself, slightly frantic. He looked down at Yin, but she appeared not to hear him. As a matter of fact, she was sleeping. Hei picked her up and carried her back inside the cabin. He then set her down in her bed, and proceeded to enter his. His head was spinning, with thoughts of Tokyo, thoughts of Yin, and worries of his Freudian slip. All this eventually blurred however, and he found himself drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, Yin awoke to the usual smell of venison and eggs. She sat up and looked over to the small kitchen of the cabin. As expected, Hei was busying himself with their breakfast. She walked up behind him and watched. She loved to watch him cook. Hei's hands moved in a frenzy. Chopping, sorting, flipping, Yin drank it all in. A sudden, impulsive idea came over her.

"Hei?'" He stopped and turned. "What?"

"Can I help?" Yin asked.

Hei looked pleasantly surprised. "Do you know how?" He inquired.

"I've watched you, I can do it." she responded.

"Ok, if your sure." he handed her the utensils and stepped back. Yin was far slower than Hei, but in a careful way. Hei smiled, it was nice to see her do any normal things on her own. She had done a good deal of individualistic things since the incident with the gang member and the doll back in Tokyo, and Hei treasured all of them. It was sort of like watching a child grow up.

Yin cooked meticulously, but not too slowly. Quite used to the shadows of what was what, and where they'd go. She stepped back when it was done, and Hei set it up for consumption. They ate in silence, but it was not uncomfortable, it was a satisfied silence, content with the lack of conversation. It's not as if either of them were particularly talkative anyways.

After they ate, Hei left to hunt for that night and the morrow's meals. It killed him to leave Yin alone, although he always left her on of his knifes and his coat, Hei would still be terribly worried until he walked back in the doorway. As he walked out the door, he turned to receive Yin's embrace. "Be safe" she whispered into his ear. "Be safer" He whispered back. And he walked off into the cold forest.

Yin sat on the bed, a sudden light flashed across her unseeing eyes. She grabbed Hei's knife and stood up, ready to lash out. "Who's there?" she called. Another flash of light. Yin started panicking. "Who's there!?" she called again, louder this time. The brightest flash yet struck her vision, and she fell backwards, her head colliding with the bed frame. Yin felt the warmth of blood and the back of her head, then the pain. She cried out, the flash of light was still burned into her retinas and the pain was unbearable to her. Slowly, Yin felt her consciousness ebb away.