He noticed her because she was smiling.

Fires were raging into the night sky, gasoline saturated the air, and the sizzling of burned flesh filled in the gaps between loud human screams. She stood so close to the inferno that the sparks danced out into the Ikebukuro night seemed to dance into her very hands, catching on her clothes, her hat, her hair. They illuminated her wide grin, as she threw on gasoline to the pyre, spilling some at her feet.

It was a typical night for a Blue Square raid, dark as hell outside, warm with the summer fervor and freedom. Walker had joined because he had nothing else to do, and had meant to keep to himself. They had wanted a torture specialist, after all, and he was one of the best in that field. He sat still on the roof of a smooth white van, knees drawn up to his chin, eyes slit with his usual expressionless look. How boring.

"You're up," she said to him, tossing up a lighter. Walker leaned forward to catch it, and then jumped off of the van.

"Wish they would be a little more creative," he remarked, straightening up and not looking at her. "They need an ice-pick in the middle of their forehead and their insides stuffed with sweets, and maybe then these criminals would get the message."

He expected her to recoil, just as so many others had done, from his outright brutality. But Walker didn't see it that way. It was just a part of him, this fascination. He had long given up wondering if there was something wrong with him, something that made others treat him with wariness.

He did not expect her to squeal, throw her arms up and yell "That's the Banquet of the Golden Witch! I loved Beatrice~!"

Her hands descended on his shirt, and she shook him frantically, grinning like an idiot. "Hey, hey, that is where your idea came from, right? Why you bastard, here everyone was thinking you were such a weird creep when you're actually an otaku like me!"

Walker, caught up in her enthusiasm, seized her hands too. "You've read the Banquet of the Golden Witch?"

"Who hasn't?" She rejoined merrily.

Inside him, Walker felt a little shift in the silent guard he usually faced others with. The hooligans drunk by the fire no longer seemed significant. Their shadows that danced on the buildings and streets no longer showed a grim reality, but hid a world of plots and conspiracies. Here was someone else who saw the same world as him. He leaned forward, intent on getting her name. "You are?"

"Erika, otaku and torture specialist. And you?" Her smile was just as wide as before, and searching her face, he found a spark of insanity so similar to his own. A glance, and he knew he was no longer alone.

"My name is Walker, otaku and torture specialist." Walker grinned for the first time that day, suddenly feeling as if he was now free to do anything he wanted. All a spark needed was some gasoline, and an inferno of destruction would result.

And the duo was born.

Lalalalala~!

The Banquet of the Golden Witch is, in fact, a manga. It's pretty awesome. Nice and creepy and bloody. People die :D

I'm an otaku like Erika and Walker, although I'm much less of a torture specialist. My sister is the one who's obsessed with scissors, even though she'd never admit. It's pretty obvious though, because she has a pair that she carries around at school ALL THE TIME and threatens whoever disobeys her with them...cough.

Moving on.

Review~! Because I love this pairing. Don't you? I'm thinking of continuing this story and making it into a series of drabbles instead, you know. Do you think it'd be interesting if I did that? Would you like an adventure spin? Humor spin? Romance spin? Or keep them frustratingly platonic and tease you maddeningly about their relationship? I'm letting you chose the genre for my story!

*thinks about it

*shudders

Anyway, review! And favorite! And carry on this pairing in your hearts FOREVAAHHH!

-LiahFaile