And yes, the long-awaited sequel to Sayonara, Mr. Left! To all who have not read Mr. Left and Sayonara, Mr. Left, I recommend that you do.

After two months of not writing with this style, I hope the writing in this fic matches those of its prequels... ;S Please do tell me if it doesn't!

I do not own Getbackers.

Yet Again, Mr. Left
By Aquarius Galuxy

It is such a warm, stifling night that the moon has ceased to shine as brightly over Shinjuku, if only to alleviate the heat. Stars sparkle indifferently in the sky, a thin scattering of diamond dust on navy velvet.

A figure crouches on the cement ledge above a certain window of an apartment block. Few vehicles cruise the street below at this hour; no driver looks up and glimpses the form of a blond man in white and purple.

He leans away from the side of the ledge that spans two hands in width, careful to avoid the narrower protrusion above his head. Right beneath where he perches is an open window. The single glass pane has been swung outwards, just as it had been a week ago, when he relinquished possession of his trusted companion to Lady Poison.

Lilac eyes lose their awareness to ghosts of amusement. Kagami Kyoji guesses that the Lady, for all her spunky attitude, is loathe to spend the night in a stuffy room. He allows the corners of his lips to pull upwards by a fraction.

Beneath, the click of a switch sails through an open window.

His unhurried gaze coasts down the drab street. Grey buildings flank a yellow-lit road; the neighbouring apartment block has but two lighted windows at this time. Another car glides across the tarmac, its metallic coat of paint reflecting the street lamps each in turn.

It is time for a visit.

Resolve settles into his countenance; lilac eyes narrow in concentration. He edges to the side, leaving enough space on the ledge for the fingers of one hand.

As a former resident of Babylon City, Kagami Kyoji does not pause to think about the possibility of failure. Instead, he grips the ledge firmly with one hand and pushes off the concrete surface with his feet. A midair twist sends his legs through the dark gap of the window. His body follows after; wind sifts through the blond locks of his hair.

The clatter of shoes on cement flooring announces his arrival. From his crouched position, Kagami Kyoji straightens with quiet dignity, lilac eyes surveying the room he has previously seen only from afar. His cramped legs are finally able to stretch.

The figure on the bed captures his attention. Kudou Himiko sits bolt upright on the narrow mattress in a rumpled shirt and shorts, her mop of curly green hair not quite sleep-tousled yet.

"You!" She manages to fish herself out of mute shock. In the pearly sheen of moonlight streaming from the window, he sees her hand inching to the side of her bed. His gaze traces her movement; there is a neat row of perfume vials tucked between the wooden support and her mattress.

A smile tugs on his lips. The young woman is indeed prepared. "We meet again, Lady Poison."

On a whim, he wonders if he should grant himself the title of a Lord, to suit hers.

The observer admits to himself that Kudou Himiko's flashing eyes are of a bewitching violet shade in the dark. He takes his time to study the room, though his focus remains anchored to her.

There is a closed wooden door three metres from where he stands. The walls of the room are bare, save for a small cupboard in the far corner, an oval mirror next to it, and a faded calendar with paintings above tiny dates next to her bed. To the other side of her is the rickety table she has left the stuffed bear on since a week ago.

Mr. Left shares his newfound territory with a cell phone that has a small, dimly-lit screen on its top flap. It is, he guesses, her only means of communication.

"Why are you here?" Lady Poison snaps irritably. Her fingers have since curled around a perfume vial; the wooden stopper remains innocently in its glass nest.

Perhaps she has forgotten that he, like she, works with a medium so minute it is akin to her poison perfumes. Kagami Kyoji takes her threat lightly, with a touch of amusement. Blond eyebrows lift imperceptibly. "Do unhand your weapon, Lady Poison. I mean no harm tonight."

Beady black eyes watch their exchange beneath a wide-rimmed hat.

Kudou Himiko shifts on the bed, her limbs tensing for a fight. The worn springs squeak in protest. "If you're not leaving this instant, I'll do you harm, you–"

"I'm here to check on Mr. Left," he cuts her off with a second to spare. The man barely moves where he stands, merely slipping a hand in his pocket, as he is so comfortable with. Absently, he notes that her verbal threats are truly endearing.

"'Mr. Left'?" the Lady repeats; her guarded expression falters. Yet at the same time, he suspects that her interest is roused. The frown on her forehead eases.

He inclines his head, shifting his gaze visibly to the bear beside her. "That's Mr. Left. You received him exactly a week ago."

The hand clasping the poison vial is lowered as she turns to her side, looking incredulously at the bear. There is, however, a certain withdrawal in her countenance she is unable to hide. He wonders why this is so, and whether it has to do with–

"So Ban was right. It came from you." Lady Poison tears her gaze from the stuffed toy and returns her attention to him, though in truth, it has never wavered since his entrance into her room.

The observer ventures a hope, a tiny one, that she is gradually warming up to his presence. He does not, however, favour the name of the witches' descendant falling so intimately from her lips.

"Why...?" Her gaze reveals plainly the question she does not complete.

There is a pause. Because words do not always sink in, Kagami Kyoji sees the invitation as an opportunity to provide a better answer.

Without a whiff of the Acceleration Perfume, Kudou Himiko is no match for the man's speed. All she sees is his form at the foot of her bed one moment, and beside her the next. There is barely time for her heart to quicken, barely time for her to regret forming the question.

There is barely time for her to react as he bends down and presses a kiss to her cheek.

Lady Poison freezes in her bed, stunned speechless. Her mind is numb as she attempts to gather her wits. But she is unable to, because Kagami Kyoji lingers next to her skin for just a moment.

She feels his warmth. Smells the scent that is identical to that of Mr. Left. Hears her heart as it tries to flee her chest.

The man draws away; in a heartbeat, he is next to the window, watching her. There is no expression on his shadowed countenance – or maybe there is. The moon illuminates the edges of his figure, painting the tips of his hair a shade of gold.

Kudou Himiko finds herself bereft of the ability to shift her gaze despite the screams in her mind to beat the daylights out of him. She stays riveted to the mattress.

A jarring melody shatters the long silence. She turns to glance at the cell phone, the tiny screen on top flashing myriad colours.

When she returns her attention to the window, Kagami Kyoji is gone. Lady Poison does not expect any less of him. Memories of the past minute return as a flood in his absence, drowning out the shrill ringtone of the mobile device.

"Kagami Kyoji, you... incorrigible freak," she mutters, curling her fist around the warm vial of perfume. The still, unblinking figure of Mr. Left remains by her side.

There is a light blush on her cheeks.

-X-

Just to clear a possible misconception up: In Sayonara, Mr. Left, the window sill Mr. Left was on was a hand's span in width. Kagami isn't on the window sill – he's crouching on the ledge above the window, which is of two hands' width. ;D I'm sorry if you got confused!

Aside from that, how was this fic? Hopefully it matched up to your expectations!