A/N: I've found that I... cannot keep up with multi-chapter stories. For my life. And that I cannot remember for the life of me that I am a writer as well as an artist. So. Sorry for my completely inactive account (and for the death of my Trace Memory fanfic, if anybody is reading that). Whoops. As an apology, have a quick one-shot I did at 4 am while my suitemates were being loud and obnoxious.

Also, you probably shouldn't read this if you haven't finished 999. Just saying.

He was worried about her. For a good hour or so, she had been sitting quietly on her bed, motionless, and staring down at the bulky gas mask on her lap. He had let her be, knowing that what they were about to do would be hard and that she needed to adjust to the idea, but her silence was scaring him more than it should be. Quietly, he crossed the room to stand beside her.

"You alright?" were the first words that left his mouth, words that he knew were unnecessary. Still, he was glad that he had said them, when she finally broke from her trance and looked up at him.

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?" he asked, moving in to sit next to her. The mattress creaked under his weight. "It'll be tough out there. Tougher even after you have all the pieces."

This time she hesitated for a moment. "…you have a point." Her eyes strayed to the mask again. "Truth be told, I can't believe I'm doing this to Jumpy."

He frowned, then put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, now." He shook her lightly, hoping she would take it as a reassuring gesture. "What was it you said years ago, after we escaped from that ship?"

"That I wanted to live, no matter what." Her voice was hard now, and edged with something he thought was pain. "And that no matter what happens, I won't chicken out." She paused now, and he felt her muscles going rigid under his hand. "…but, Aoi." She turned her eyes on him again. "What if… what if I don't keep that promise? What if I'm too weak to?"

The sudden spill of emotion caught him off guard, and it was all he could do to keep his expression schooled to impassivity. He noted how there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes, how her voice pitched high in panic, and – was she shaking? For an instant, he was reminded of the terrified little girl in the incinerator room, nine years ago… and how he hadn't been able to help her then.

He sure as hell wouldn't let that happen this time.

"You won't be," was his response, and he wrapped his arms around her in a loose embrace. "I'll be with you the entire time. Remember? I won't let you break your promise. You will live, Akane."

They stayed locked together for several minutes, until she nodded against his chest and pushed away. When he searched her face this time, he found nothing of the fear that had dominated only a short while ago – just cool resolve.

"Are you ready, then?" he asked, leaning back on one arm.

"Yes," she responded, and lifted up the gas mask.

"Where are you headed first?"

"…I think… Jumpy's apartment." Cradling the mask with one arm, she bunched up her hair with her free hand and tucked the ends under her shirt. "It's the closest, and it'll be easier to get his kidnapping out of the way." She stood up and walked over to the dresser, upon which was a thick black robe.

"Well, then," he said, watching her put it on. "I wish you luck, 'June'."

"Thank you, 'Santa'," she said, cocking her head to look at him. "But, my name is not June."

"Oh?" he exclaimed, feigning surprise. He watched her strap on the gas mask. "What is it, then?"

She turned her whole body to face him, the cloak swinging heavily. "My name," she said, the mask distorting her voice horribly, "is Zero."