Code:Shot 1 - A Modern Love Story

by the mythologist

A love story of a girl and a boy, her demon and his ghosts. Rated M for some explicit content and sexual themes. Ai(Bentou)xMishiru/Kagerou.

This is set in the Code:Beginning universe, although it can be read on its own. This is what was referenced in Ch 18 when Sakura tells Toki about Ai and Mishiru's "unexpected decision."

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First Code:Shot - Ai and Mishiru

A Modern Love Story

Late Winter, 2016

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Day 0 Hour 1

There was no one but herself that she could blame for trying. Yet Rei's firm, kind refusal echoed in her head (I'm sorry, Mishiru. I can't keep that old promise. Please find someone else. I want you to be happy-) until she thought she might go mad, and so she ran out into the rain, without shoes, without purpose, without hope. Why else was she alive if not for him? And how could she have allowed herself to taste this ambition that would inevitably lead to the bitterest despair?

It was so much worse for him, she knew. Loving Sakura this deeply even after four years absence, and knowing there would never be a chance to be together. The smallest part of her had hoped he might use her as a substitute, and she honestly had no expectation of him ever loving her for her own merits. All she wanted was to see him happy, and not suffocating under the guilt and pain of his lonely existence. Now, he would hold himself apart from her, and she wouldn't see him at all.

Mishiru wept, tears mingling with rain, bare feet streaked with mud, gravel biting into the soft flesh of her feet. What was wrong with her? She had been doing well for so long...but then she had seen Rei again, and she had been overcome by that hopeless affection. Now what could she do? She couldn't go back, because that was where failure lay. Perhaps if she could just-

Failure. Failure. Failure.

She shook her head violently, dislodging rain droplets like a shivering dog. The last thing she needed was for Kagerou to overtake her. That part of her psyche had been silent for over a year now. It must be trying to take advantage of her weakened state. But she had not become so weak - she was strong, she was capable, she was-

You are a failure. I am not. Give yourself to me and we shall watch the city burn, burn burn.

Mishiru reeled, clutching her head in panic. Something was wrong. Kagerou had not been this powerful since they had belonged to Eden. This was practically unbearable, and unless she got it under control, there was a terrifying and very real possibility that she would succumb. She breathed deeply, striving for calm, yet the insistent battering on the underside of her skull did not relent.

Want so much. Want it all to burn. Let me take what you can't have. I could make him want us. I could burn his heart.

A wordless shriek ripped from her throat, and she hurled herself forward, racing blindly down streets she barely knew in an effort to escape from herself. No, she couldn't allow herself to hurt anyone ever again - especially Rei! No matter how much she loved him, she could never force him against his will. Not even if the idea of doing so made her-

Mishiru slammed into someone taller and stronger than her, slipping backwards to fall on wet pavement. Yet even before she landed her mind cleared with an ethereal clarity, and Kagerou fell mercifully silent. Stunned, she peered upwards, protecting her eyes from the rain with a faltering hand.

"You." Ai Reo, the man that she had very nearly killed during her last day as the ex-Prime Minister's slave loomed above her, glaring at her with both fire and frost in his expression. As she swallowed nervously she realized there was shadow too, spreading like wings from his shoulders...down his forearms...to his fingertips, reaching steadily for her. As his rare kind energy reached her, Kagerou and her flame were flooded, and for the first time in years she felt clean. Yet it was too much to withstand, and his dark energy suckled at her skin, leaching away her consciousness.

The last thing she knew before she surrendered to the rare kind and utter darkness was overwhelming relief.

Day 1, Hour 4

Even before she opened her eyes Mishiru knew she had been moved indoors. There was a musty smell, like old, dusty libraries, and the faint patter of rain against a windowpane. Then, she remembered what had caused her to faint, and she bolted upright, not realizing she was lying on a bed until she nearly tumbled off of it.

"Take it easy, Mishiru. Don't worry, you're safe - and so is everyone else." Shibuya - it could only be he, wearing that odd costume and totally unafraid of her power - patted her arm gently, just as he would his own daughter. Unwelcome guilt lanced through her, remembering her attempt at wooing Rei away from Sakura. Surely he wouldn't know what she had attempted? Or, even if he did, wouldn't he be in the best position to understand?

At the very least he didn't seem to blame her, although she could only tell by the nuance of his voice. "It was a good thing that you ran into Bentou-kun when you did. Now, how are you feeling?"

Mishiru blinked at him in surprise, trying to make sense of her situation. "I..." She hesitated, taking stock of how she felt, and - fading guilt aside - was surprised at what she found. "I'm...ok, actually. I feel light. Good." She breathed deeply, glorying in the unexpected detente from her heartbreak and Kagerou's rage. Discreetly, she glanced around, yet she didn't recognize her surroundings. The room was bare, save for small, latticed windows on the wall to her left, and behind Shibuya there appeared to be a second cot bed, with someone laying in it.

"That's good, dear. And, um, I'm always here if you need someone to talk-"

The body on the other bed was Ai. Mishiru shot out of the bed, clambering around Shibuya who sputtered in surprise. She didn't stop until she was looking down at the unconscious young man. His face was pale, but his chest rose and fell with even, steady breaths, so she assumed 'going small' hadn't been too detrimental. Clearly he had already been given the rare serum...yet there must be something still wrong with him, otherwise he wouldn't be unconscious. She turned back to Shibuya with guilt written on her face. "Was it me? Is he like this because of me?"

The nyanmaru mask kept him maddeningly expressionless, but she could tell that he chose his words carefully. "Ai has been running himself ragged for some time, now, Mishiru-"

"But if I hadn't lost control and he hadn't stopped me, would he be ok?"

Shibuya sighed. "Well, he wouldn't be unconscious. I wouldn't say he'd be much better, however."

Mishiru frowned and looked back down at Ai. He had always been an incredibly attractive young man, but his good looks were edged with the harshness of anger long buried, and purpose unattained. When he was sleeping, however, those edges were smoothed, and her attention was drawn to his long eyelashes, high cheekbones, and tousled hair. He was not nearly as frightening when unconscious, and it made her regret hurting him all the more. She trembled at the thought of killing him (again, almost, and it had been way too close the first time) and words came tumbling out with no pause for breath. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to lose control and I was fighting it as hard as I could, but I was just so upset and I didn't know what to do or where to go and she almost got out-"

"Mishiru. Mishiru!" Shibuya interrupted her, steadying her with his costumed paws. "It's all right. Bentou-kun is going to be fine. Actually, a rest is just what he needs and refuses to take, so in all honesty this is probably the best thing that could have happened to him. Besides, he lost control just as much as you did. In fact-" Shibuya cut off abruptly, glancing down at the boy on the bed. He paused for a long moment, deep in thought. "Actually," he began again, and Mishiru could sense, if not see, the calculating expression behind the mask. "If it's not too much to ask, would you be willing to help Bentou-kun?"

"Help him? Me?" It was not that she was averse to helping - craved it, in fact, after all the years of existing as a soulless, killing machine - but she couldn't imagine Ai accepting her help. After all, he had waved off all her apologies and attempts to be helpful when he was recovering from the injuries she had inflicted on him six years ago. Seeing as how this was their first interaction since then, she didn't see any reason for him to accept her help now. "I don't think he'd let me…"

"He will if it's not up to him, Mishiru. Let's say...we tell him that you're close to the brink, and he's the only one to keep Kagerou from coming out to play. Add this to a natural recuperation period of, oh, say three months? I'll tell him he's got a rare kind illness that power users are immune to, and elect you both to 'nurse' each other throughout your mutual quarantine. This way, he'll get the rest he needs, and you'll have a grace period to...come to terms with whatever it was that caused you to lose control in the first place, which I have no idea whatsoever what it could possibly be. I think it's brilliant. What do you think?"

Mishiru adopted the bland, professional smile she tended to use on those she thought were insane. Disregarding the obvious admission that he knew enough of what had transpired between her and Rei, he wanted she and Ai to spend three months together? They wouldn't survive three days! "So what happens when we inevitably fight? How do we stop the negation then?"

Shibuya patted her back fondly, chuckling underneath the mask. "Inevitable is too strong a word, my young friend. Of course, the easiest way to stop negation is simply not to fight at all. It will be a good test of fortitude. And here's another bonus - think of this as a scientific experiment. If we can determine a safe way for rare kinds and power users to live together...think of how angry it would have made all those Eden scientists! Ahh, revenge is sweet. So, Mishiru? To the future?"

He had worked at the clasp of his helmet during his speech, and at the end held it aloft like a champagne flute at the close of a stirring toast. Mishiru smiled weakly, distracted by all he hadn't said. More than sticking it to the scientists who had made her young life - as well as Ai's, Rei's, and Sakura's - a hellish misery, discovering a way for rare kinds and power users to live together would benefit all those lovers separated by that divide - people like Sakura and Rei...and Shibuya and his ex-wife. The realization that she could help Shibuya turned her thoughts to the practical aspects of the study. "Where would we do this? It'd have to be someplace contained...in case of accidents. But close enough that you could check in on us."

"The mansion is not the only piece of real estate that I own, Mishiru. I know just the place. Fortunately, you both are in it right now. Even better, I'm the only one who knows the way out. I'm so glad you agreed, Mishiru. Now, one last thing: do you know how to cook?" He plowed onwards before she could do anything other than blink at him. "Excellent. Bentou-kun earned that nickname for a reason, you know. I'd start cooking now, so there's something waiting for him when he wakes up. Might be a bit cranky, otherwise. Well then - I'll be checking in on you in a few days, and to bring a fresh supply of groceries. Ta ta!"

Before she could protest, he stuck the helmet backwards on her, so for a moment she was blind. By the time she wrestled the thing off (by burning it off, and she forgave herself the use of her powers as she simply did not know what was going on) Shibuya was gone, and there was no sign in the room to mark his exit route. The door was 8 feet away, and firmly shut. That meant there was likely a trapdoor of some kind - and if she found it she could escape and tell him that she'd changed her mind, this was madness, and that she couldn't possibly spend three months with someone who hated her - but just then Ai moaned. Her eyes flicked over to him, but he was still asleep. Yet his eyebrows had drawn together, and rather than the peaceful expression from earlier, his face was now contorted in pain. He was having a nightmare, no doubt. She did not wonder at its content. He was all that was left of his friends, and he'd watched them die not once, but twice. That dark dreams continued to haunt him six years after their deaths did not surprise her, as she was tortured by ghosts of her own.

Mishiru bit her lip. Perhaps Shibuya was right. Perhaps it was time that they stopped running, and turn to face their demons. There was also a certain logic in being locked up together. To her, he represented her time as a slave, both mentally and physically, and by helping him now she could absolve herself of some of her guilt, as well as affirming herself as a free woman. Likewise, everyone knew of Ai's hatred for power users. If she could help him get over that - even just a little - then any aches and pains along the way would be worth it.

Wary yet determined, she trudged downstairs, hoping that Shibuya's kitchen was well stocked.

Day 1, Hour 6

Mishiru was, by almost every account, an excellent cook. It had been one of the few things she was encouraged to do for herself when under Eden's direction, and as such had taken to it like a starving man approaches the buffet table. She was pleased by Shibuya's larder, but not surprised. If she didn't know better, she would suspect that he'd had this experiment ready for longer than the few hours she assumed both she and Ai had been unconscious. Although when she thought about it, she had almost certainly entered her rare form when Ai had sucked her power out of her. That being the case, the whole situation made more sense. Rather than a few hours, he'd had over a day to prepare this situation, after taking advantage of her lost form - a coma-like state - and whatever was wrong with Ai.

She had no sooner plated the yakisoba and stirred the red miso to keep it fresh when she heard a click on the table behind her. The mirror helpfully placed above the sink reflected Ai's thunderous expression, and the cell phone he had just laid down on the table.

"Didn't take much to convince you, huh?"

Mishiru swallowed before answering, and hoped it was quiet enough for him to miss. "I didn't have much of a choice. I expect he filled you in?"

"Just got off the phone with him. You've gone crazy - again - and he expects me to deal with it. Rather than handle it in a rational manner, like setting up appointments, etc, he wants us to live together. For the foreseeable future." His disdain was obvious.

"It's only three months," she protested. "And its not just for us. The experiment-"

"Fuck his experiment." His voice was now directly above her, and Mishiru nearly dropped the ladle. How had she missed his movement? He had snuck up on her and loomed threateningly at her back. It would be so easy for him to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her. Judging by the palpable crackle of murderous intent, he would like nothing more.

Yet fear had never ruled Mishiru. She calmly laid down the ladle, biting back sudden, vivid daydreams of striking him upside the head with enough force to crack his skull. Instead she glanced up and over her shoulder, meeting his gaze and scoffing. She then slipped from where he'd trapped her and crossed her arms. "I understand you're upset," she began in her firmest tone, the one that she imagined had Kagerou at the edges. "I am too. But I understand what he's trying to do, and more importantly, I understand why. Yes, I need help. And by the looks of it," here, she let her eyes flick up and down over his gaunt frame, "you do too. You're ill, Ai. That much is obvious."

His eyes narrowed and he drew himself up to his full height, nearly a foot taller than her. "You're in no place to be worrying about me, sweetheart. I can take care of myself, which is more than you can say."

Mishiru shrugged, and hoped that her veneer of confidence would not crack. "Maybe, maybe not. But none of that is why I agreed. If we can figure out a way to make this work, then maybe Re- I mean, Shibuya and Sakurako-san can figure out a way to be together again. Even if it's just a little bit, I'd like to help." She had tried not to stumble over Rei's name, and had decided too late that it was better not to have mentioned him at all. Ai's expression flickered, and she was sure that his focused gaze missed nothing. "I've hurt so many people in the past. So if they need me now, I will do whatever I can."

There was a moment of charged silence. Mishiru became painfully aware of the faint, electric hum of the lamp above her head before Ai broke eye contact, swaggered over to the table and glanced down at the noodles. He swiped a finger through the sauce pooling at the edge and brought it to his mouth. Only after he made a show of sucking the sauce from his thumb did he respond. "You aren't afraid of me? Of what I could do to you?"

He didn't mention her fears of negation, and Mishiru was not surprised. His hatred of power users extended past the bounds of his common sense, and had he not hated Fujiwara Souri most of all, he might have agreed with the use of negation as a weapon. Now that Fujiwara had been dead for years, who knew where Ai stood? Still, Mishiru didn't take kindly to threats, and although she was a naturally modest woman, she owned her experiences. She had been forced to live and breathe as Eden's top operative, and that meant being prepared at every moment for attack, a knife in the back, and inevitable death. Ai was a paltry little bully, in comparison. For all his ruthlessness, he wasn't even as strong as Sakura. "I'm afraid of many things, but you are not one of them."

He held her gaze for a long moment before his lips twisted in a smile that did not reach his eyes. Then he pulled out a pair of chopsticks from his back pocket and captured a surprising amount of noodle between them. Cupping his free hand beneath the dangling yakisoba, he brought it to his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "It's decent," he grudgingly admitted, and Mishiru didn't realize she had been holding her breath until she let it out in a relieved woosh.

Maybe this could work after all.

Day 5, Hour 22

The first few days were tense and awkward, with both metaphorically kicking the walls that kept them imprisoned. After their first conversation Ai refused to talk further, and the only time he would break his self-imposed silence were at meal times, where they called an unspoken truce to discuss recipes and meal planning, and who would prepare the next meal. She was surprised to learn that he loved to cook as much as her, although in retrospect she shouldn't have been. The bentous he perpetually carried had to come from somewhere, after all.

Besides that, however, matters between them only became more strained. After three days of being caged in, Mishiru thought she might just go insane. On the fourth, she eyed the kitchen knife and entertained fantasies of stabbing it into Ai's flesh. On the fifth night, she slept long enough to dream of Rei, and that was when their uneasy peace came undone.

She woke gasping from a nightmare that encompassed Rei blindfolded and tied to the bed by chains of fire, fighting against the constraints. Yet he moaned as she whipped him with a leather belt. She'd licked along the red, upraised welts, but most delicious to her was the sense of power, and of control. The thought of Rei as her sexual prisoner was intoxicating, and it was her orgasm that woke her, rather than realization and horror.

When she woke there was flame flickering around the edge of her vision, and Kagerou was a heavy sweetness in her pulse. Sexual desire and the urge to destroy walked hand in hand with Kagerou, and she was just as close now to giving in as she had been barely a week ago. With the last vestiges of restraint she tumbled out of the bed and ran down the hall to Ai's room. Yet once there she couldn't force her fist to the door so she threw herself against it, landing in a heap on the floor. She called out for him once, and prayed that it would be enough.

For once, her prayers were answered. The door flew open, and the last thing she saw before Kagerou's dark mask settled into place were his eyes, flaring with an unidentifiable emotion. Then there was nothing except for Kagerou, and the dark.

Day 6, Hour 9

Mishiru awoke the next morning in living room, lying on the floor next to the half-charred sofa. Within reach was her Kagerou mask, broken neatly in half. Like she had after her last run in with Ai, her mind and body felt light and focused, and Kagerou was silent, sleeping deep down inside of her. Yet unlike their last encounter, this time she panicked immediately. Where was Ai? Had she hurt him? Or more embarrassingly, had she acted on the unnatural lust that drove her dreams? Ai was a handsome man, and she knew Kagerou wasn't picky - it was only that which made her Mishiru that made her fall in love with Rei. She strained her memories, but nothing came to the fore. It was like this sometimes, especially on the few occasions Kagerou was defeated. Ashamed at its defeat, it hid all knowledge of that encounter from her, never minding that Mishiru could learn of the encounter from anyone who had survived. Such would be the case now, and with a sigh she pulled herself out from under the couch, praying that she hadn't managed to hurt Ai too badly.

She had mentally prepared herself to find him bloody and battered (and the more her fears progressed the bloodier he was...or tied down to a bed) but she was not prepared to find him casually making breakfast in the kitchen.

For a moment she couldn't move, her brain stalling under the effort of piecing together the wreckage in the living room, bathroom, and hallway with the oasis of calm in the kitchen. Yet then her eyes settled on his the way his shirt bunched at the left shoulder, underneath the apron he took no shame in wearing whenever it was his turn to cook. Shirts didn't bunch like that normally, she decided, and waited for the pan to sizzle before making her move.

With a leap forward and a quick tug, the shirt draped halfway down his arm, and the split material revealed a long, wicked scar that traveled from the top of his shoulder, down his shoulder blade, ceasing at the top rib. She inhaled quickly and several images flashed before her eyes: gaining the advantage, forcing him facedown into the floor as she straddled him, and then raking downwards with the exact same kitchen knife she had fantasized about using on the fourth day.

When the images cleared she looked up into Ai's impassive face and let go of his shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered, even more frightened now than she had woken up. She had been wet with arousal as she had attacked him, and was terrified that he would somehow recognize the desire underneath the violence. "I don't remember what I - oh god, Ai, I really-"

He shrugged that shoulder and broke eye contact with her, glancing behind him. "If you want to apologize, go clean the living room. Open those special vents Shibuya installed and burn that shit up."

Mishiru blinked. "But-"

He arched one eyebrow. "Oh, are you not sorry?"

She swallowed thickly. This was not how she had imagined this conversation to go. It was so far from the bounds of her expectations that she simply could not comprehend it. "But aren't you angry? Aren't you frightened?"

Ai laid down the ladle yet never broke eye contact. "Why should I be? I knew what you were going into this. You took me a little by surprise this time, but don't think that's ever going to happen again. I've got your number now, sweetheart." He turned back to the stew, bubbling away in the pot. Mishiru took a deep breath and held it, and wondered if she really had gone mad during day three, and all this was just a figment of her imagination. No one had ever treated her alter ego with so little concern. Even Rei and Sakura had treated Kagerou as a worthy adversary!

She had just reached the door when Ai uttered his parting shot. "Oh, and tell Kagerou to try a little harder, next time." He chuckled darkly as he pulled his sleeve back up, bunching it up under the apron. "Hell, I didn't even need a safe word. I'm a little disappointed."

Mishiru could no sooner stop the warm blossom of respect that took root in her heart than she could fly. All she could do was listen to the escalating beat of her heart as she slipped into the living room.

Day 9, Hour 14

Although the door to the real world is hidden, there is a greenhouse on the property, and from there she can see the sky. Mishiru is unfamiliar with every flower in the greenhouse, and Shibuya told her at their first meeting that they were flowers from his homeland that require specific gradients of light, and therefore grow nowhere else on earth. The tinted glass is nearly a foot thick and the myriad, reflecting colors let in only a quarter of the light that they should, so the exotic flowers are heated by portable UV ray lamps that Ai once observed looked like giant penises. Mishiru was fairly sure that such an observation was more common for boys of 12, not 22, and had told him so. He had merely shrugged and walked off, but not before raising an eyebrow at her, as if to imply that she was the immature one, here.

Shibuya always meets with her in the greenhouse, when they have their bi-weekly discussions on how things are going. She had been guilty when she told them about fighting less than a week in, but he had nodded, unsurprised. Apparently he was not so naive as to believe that they could get along without quarreling. For some reason, that made her feel worse.

When not listening to her reports of their occasional disputes - and all had paled in comparison to the first, as Kagerou had been surprisingly quiet since then - he asks her about everything and nothing; random questions that she cannot see the connection between: what was Ai's favorite food? Had she spoken to any of the (other) Code:Breakers lately? What does she do all day? Was Ai always that grouchy, or was he just unhappy to see anyone intruding on his idyllic vacation?

Although she felt somewhat guilty talking about Ai - feeling, somewhat accurately, as if she were spying on him - Mishiru felt only slightly more confident answering about herself. Yet these particular questions were easy to answer. She had not kept in contact with anyone outside of the house, nor, in the light of her recent heartbreak, did she wish to. In terms of daily schedule, she had learned early on the importance of a daily schedule to keep herself sane. Before, she had school and intensive physical conditioning, and in her spare time she would cook, people watch, and sketch. Now, she kept up her training regimen as best she could, and found herself cooking at least 2 hours every day to keep up with Ai's rapacious appetite, but there was too much time left over. So she'd spend hours in the library, and when she could read no more she would take to drawing and caring for the plants.

Shibuya had nodded knowingly, suggested she take to the internet for some yoga instruction, and changed the subject. She had let him, swallowing down a frisson of gilt. What she had not told him was this: plants were not people. There were no expressions to decipher, no challenge in remaining unseen. In lieu of this she took to sketching Ai, and by the end of the first week she had filled half a sketchbook with covert images of him.

(Due to this, she knows that he is never as handsome as when he sleeps, although she only has that one instance to judge by. His features are well-formed and bordering on aristocratic, yet there is something unpleasant in his expression that makes him, for all his physical perfection, less attractive than Rei. Perhaps it is his sullen demeanor, or the flash of arrogance when she disagrees with him. More likely, it is the loneliness that surrounds him like a second skin, all the more hateful for its familiarity.)

This stolen knowledge of him makes it harder to dislike him, and there are times when she feels as if doing so might be her last line of defense. She has never spent so much time with someone before, even though they only come together for meals. What will she become if she allows herself to empathize with him? Even more chillingly, what can she do if they are truly no different at all?

Day 12, Hour 3

When she thinks about Ai for too long, Mishiru despairs for Shibuya's experiment, knowing deep down that only failure can come of this. Yet she does not know how to give up, and so she cooks, she reads, she talks to the plants, and she draws Ai's face.

Day - 16, Hour 21

Ai had been in a bad mood all day, and so Mishiru finds refuge in the greenhouse, sitting and thinking about the questions Shibuya never asks. Why haven't you tried to escape? Why don't you just leave?

Although the walls of the house are lined with his blood, the glass in the greenhouse is not, and it would be child's play to melt it and leave. Yet then the flowers -exposed to the outside world and natural light for the first time in their short lives - might sicken and die, and destroying innocents, whether sentient or not, does not appeal to her. So she sits and stews, and thinks black thoughts about the boy sharing her exile.

Only towards the close of the day does she wonder how Ai - unhampered by the rare blood in the walls - would answer that particular question.

Day - 22, Hour 19

The fight sprang from nothing; bad weather and strained tempers coalescing into a blazing row that Mishiru lost control of at the outset. For once she could not blame Kagerou. Ai had made a cutting remark about her obsession with sketching, and the next thing she knew she had hurled one of the kitchen chairs at him. He had stared at her in surprise, eyebrows up at his hairline, barely reacting to the chair as it barked off his hip. Yet before Mishiru could regret her impetuous action battle was joined and he streaked toward her, intent on catching her before Kagerou surfaced.

Yet Kagerou didn't surface, and neither did her rage subside. All their little quibbles and attitude bubbled to the surface, along with her own dissatisfaction and helplessness. She screamed into his face and fought him hand to hand, and by the time they had fought their way back to the living room, she had gained a small measure of coherency.

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!" She growls as she claws at his chest, too wild and skilled to be contained by his superior strength and speed. She rakes her nails through his shirt and later she will wonder at her desperation, but for now all she feels is the satisfaction that destruction brings.

Ai's response is punctuated with grunts as he fights her off. "You think I like being stuck here with you, sweetheart?" His fist slices through the air, aiming for her midsection, and it is a lucky hit. She folds forward, hoping to lull him closer, but he's too careful. He manages to hoist her arms up and juts his hip against her midsection, lessening the chance of her kneeing him in the groin.

Mishiru spits towards his face, but misses. "You hate all the power users. All I hate is you!" It's not exactly what she means to say, but it's close enough. Ai catches her meaning easily enough, she can tell by his humorless smile as he turns toward her.

"That's not true. I hate you very differently than the way I hate all the other power users. I hate you exactly the same way that I hate myself."

The startling statement hangs in the air for a moment, stunning Mishiru before she realizes that was its purpose. Ai spins her around before she can fight back, pressing her face against the wall, and himself flush against her back. She bucks back hoping to dislodge him but it was no use. She was trapped, powerless to do anything other than listen to him as he continued.

"You know, I've learned something in the past couple weeks. Not that you're dangerous - oh no, I knew that quite well before. Neither is it that you are hopelessly in love with Rei. No, what I've learned is that as big and bad as Kagerou is, you are even worse."

Mishiru stills, and Kagerou pulses in her blood like a chuckle. She is stunned, both by Ai's verbosity - she's never heard him speak this much at any one time - and that he finds her dangerous. "Wh- what do you mean?"

He shifts and the pain thrumming through her arms lessens, although she still can't fight her way free. She tells herself that she's only distracted by his attempts at conversation, and that she has to listen now to tell Shibuya later. She is absolutely not half dizzy from the warmth of him against her back, nor his looming, blatant masculinity when he holds her like this.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean. Everyone acts like Kagerou is the scary alternate psyche that you have to bury deep down...but that's a lie, isn't it? You pretend that Mishiru is the good guy, the smiling mask that everyone can trust. But I know the truth." He leaned in close so that she could feel his breath on her neck, his words dripping like sweet poison in her ear. "Kagerou is just another word for Mishiru, after all. No matter how you try to hide it, they are exactly the same thing."

A lifetime of fears and hateful truths swamped her, and she couldn't breathe. No, it couldn't be true. If it were so then all the effort she had made towards being a sane and healthy individual meant nothing at all, as she could never be rid of the part of her that delighted in devastation. She stilled against him, mind whirling with a thousand recollections of destruction and the dark pleasure that came hand in hand. Desperately, she attempted to rationalize. She had been owned by Eden for so long...so much of it wasn't her choice! And she had mourned it all! And besides, a little pyromania was normal when magical fire was as necessary to you as breathing, right?

"No, you're wrong-"

"Am I? Let me put it to you this way, sweetheart. I've seen you in action. I know. You get off on it - all that pain, the violence…it turns you the fuck on. Don't even try to deny it. Shit, you make other people hot just watching you. And before you try to say that's all Kagerou, that sweet little Mishiru has nothing to do with all that, let me tell you about a rare kind's sense of smell. You must think about hurting Rei quite a bit, sweetheart, 'cuz I can smell your arousal every single day."

Mishiru's mind went utterly, blissfully blank. Later, there would be panic and shame that Ai had managed to learn her deepest, darkest secret with what appeared to be minimal amounts of effort. Now, there was only this blessed stillness and underneath it, the need to turn this back on him and to hurt him in return. Without speaking, she relaxed every bone in her body, practically melting into the wall. When he moved forward to block her attack she made her move. She arched her back, pushing her hips back and to the right, sliding along his leg until she reached what she had assumed (hoped) would be there: the sizable erection that would be her way out of this terrible situation. Her hopes were answered and her eyes fluttered shut (in relief, and relief only, and not to glory in the simmering heat in her womb) and she pressed firmly against it, caught between setting her entire body aflame in a last-ditch attempt to get away, and wiggling her bottom oh so slowly against him.

Ai, of course, had been right. Every day since Rei had denied her she had forced down tantalizing images of him as her sexual prisoner, but this? This was control of a different sort, control that could actually happen, and knowing that he could smell the trickling heat between her thighs only augmented the experience.

"Tell me something, Ai," she whispered, her voice unintentionally low and throaty. The effect would have brought a lesser man to his knees. "If I'm such a monster, then what are you?" Swallowing thickly - and hoping he couldn't somehow hear her heart pounding against her ribcage - she pushed against the wall, leaning back so their bodies were fully aligned. Ai remained still as stone behind her and only the minute hitch in his breathing signaled any concern in this unexpected turn of events. "If I'm a goddamn sexual deviant, what does that make you?"

After a long moment, his arms swung down from the wall, falling to his sides. Now that she was no longer trapped, she slowly turned and hoped that this veneer of calm would last through her parting shot. She kept her chin down but looked up through her eyelashes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having to angle her head up to look at him. "You liked that a little too much, sweetheart. Maybe the next time you look for a monster, you should try looking in a mirror."

She walked away without looking back, and hoped that that he couldn't see how her shoulders trembled as she went.

Day 23, Hour 3

The night of The Altercation, as Mishiru took to considering it, she barricaded herself into her bedroom, for both her protection and his. She did not come down for dinner, and neither did he call her down. It appeared as if a ceasefire had been called, but she didn't want to test it - what if he was simply waiting for her to walk down to the kitchen before he opened up with another salvo? The first attack had been devastating, and Mishiru could imagine hundreds of follow-ups that could push her over the edge. He wouldn't even have to lie to break her - somehow, he had managed to learn exactly who she was after three weeks, when all he should know about her was her favorite meals and genre of literature. And to have learned something so private, that could be used to such devastation...Mishiru hunkered down beneath her blanket and felt an awful lot like crying. I hate him, I hate him, she whispered to herself, until she finally dozed off mid-sentence.

She dreamt of Kagerou, as she often had during her pre-pubescent years. Kagerou had not yet revealed herself to be cruel, and Mishiru herself had barely been more than a slip of a girl. She would retreat to this inner sanctum after particularly harsh missions when she was forced to question her humanity. Here, Kagerou would support her, bracing her against atrocities she had herself committed by reassuring her with false sympathy. It's all right, kitten; nothing is your fault; you're such a good girl for doing as you were told…

Yet tonight was only a mockery of such times. Kagerou lounged by a pool of clear water, the only distinct landmark amongst the fog of her dream. She cupped her hand in the pool and the water dappled her skin before sliding down the bare planes, curling down around the naked curves. Such was the nature of the dream that Mishiru was not ashamed at Kagerou's provocative display, rather, she was hyper focused on the feel of water slipping down her own skin.

They had always been connected, for better or for worse. There was no more denying it, whether in this dreamscape, or in her waking moments.

"It seems that someone has had an exciting day, kitten. Have you come here to talk? Or to unwind?" Kagerou's voice was smooth as silk yet its inflection matched her twisted intent. It was a mockery of Mishiru's own voice, and Mishiru heard Kagerou's tones every time she listened to a recording of her own. It was the reason why Kagerou never spoke in her waking moments, choosing to communicate by paper strands. It was as Ai had discovered: Mishiru and Kagerou were one and the same, and their voice revealed them as such.

Mishiru grit her teeth, choosing to focus on Kagerou's pale, moon-like face, as inexpressive as the mask she hid behind. "You called me here. What do you want?"

Kagerou giggled before dragging her fingertips against her ribcage, just below her full breasts. "Oh, you know exactly what I want. But in the interest of your foolish modesty, I will prevaricate with a question. My darling Mishiru, why aren't you fucking that boy?"

Her question was accompanied by a mental image of Mishiru riding Ai, her hips snapping tightly against his, her head thrown back and face lit with pleasure. The unexpectedness of it made her choke on her shocked inhale yet even as she coughed she couldn't unsee the desperate need on his face. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Rei with that sort of expression. How, then, was it so easy to imagine bringing Ai to the brink?

"Ka- you can't just - that's rape and-"

"Hard to rape the willing, kitten."

Mishiru flushed fire truck red. "He's not willing!"

Kagerou leered knowingly. "Today's little interlude aside, he certainly didn't seem unwilling when we had our little dance a few weeks ago…"

Mishiru's breath caught in her throat. The only memory she had of when Kagerou took over was of slicing Ai's back with a kitchen cleaver. There was no way he could have been turned on by that. Kagerou had to be lying.

"No, you're wrong. He wouldn't-" She froze, suddenly remembering that Ai had told her the next day in the kitchen: I didn't even need a safe word.At the time she assumed that he had been joking, but what if he hadn't? Her eyes widened as the possibility took hold of her, and all at once heat flushed through her. Oh god, wasn't that exactly what she had accused him of? No wonder he had let her go after she'd implied he was more a monster than her - she liked hurting, but if he liked being hurt…? No, it couldn't be true. This had to be an elaborate scheme, or Kagerou fucking with her mind, once again...

But oh god, what did it mean if Ai liked their fights? What did it mean if she liked that?

"I'll be honest with you, kitten. I like that boy. So tall and strong and handsome...with such fascinating reactions to pain. I want him, and unless I am very mistaken, he is absolutely not adverse to the prospect. All that remains, kitten, is how you feel about the boy."

Mishiru began shaking her head before Kagerou finished speaking. "No, no. No. This is not happening. You are not...matchmaking me with...with him! No. I hate him! Besides," she breathed deeply to regain herself, as it was possible to lose control of Kagerou within her dreams, as she well knew, "I am in love with Rei. Rei. Ai is not a stand-in!"

Kagerou leaned forward, cupping her hand in the pool before bringing it to her breast. Water trickled through her fingers, coating her erect nipples, one by one. "And is Rei what you want or what you need? Or don't you know the difference?"

"I love Rei for a reason!"

"And that reason is…?"

Thoughts of Rei flew through her head, yet none of them were the definitive reason for why she had fallen in love with him. Her feelings for Rei were strong but abstract, and she stumbled trying to describe the root of her feelings for him. "Well, he...he was there for me. When I needed him."

"The marriage proposal, you mean."

"No! It was because he was my friend!" And because we would never be able to destroy him.

"And are you so desperate that you'd fall in love with the first boy who smiled at you? Ha! Silly me, you're even more desperate than that. And I would know, wouldn't I?" Kagerou's lips curled in a grin, yet her eyes remained as cold and lifeless as stones. "I will tell you a truth about us, kitten. We need to be needed. This is because we are oh so painfully lonely. So while we love Rei because he doesn't need us, we need Ai because he does."

"He doesn't need us," Mishiru whispered, knowing that twisted as Kagerou was, she never lied. "He hates us."

Kagerou tilted her head back and laughed. "Oh, kitten. That boy is even lonelier than us, and that is saying something. Every time he gets close to someone, they die...but we wouldn't, and he knows that now. If we let him, he would love us endlessly...and what's more, he could even learn to love us equally. Could Rei ever do that? Could Rei ever give you anything other than the cold ashes of unfulfilled dreams?"

The incarnation of her power stood and walked sinuously towards her. Images overwhelmed her: Ai below her, bound and blindfolded, whispering both their names in tones of utter devotion; laughing and smiling with her over the dinner table; teasing her about her secret penchant for romance novels; his weight pushing her into the mattress as he slept, deeply and trusting. Every facet of Kagerou's dreams were exquisite, and unlike her dreams about Rei, they were based in reality. Was it the potential of fulfillment that gave those dreams that special sheen? Or was it something about Ai that made her long to see them fulfilled?

Kagerou had reached her by now, and wrapped her arms around her, so that they stood face to face, mirror images of opposite intents. She leaned in close to whisper in Mishiru's ear, and both their eyes fluttered shut as she did. "You'd never have to worry about destroying him. You could hurt him, break his heart, set him aflame...but he's lived through far, far worse. Even I couldn't break him, kitten. Especially now that he knows the truth: you are me...and I am you. So let me tell you one more time: I want him. Do you know what that means, Mishiru?"

Knowledge swept through her like a strong wind, signaling her utter capitulation. Her response was a sigh, barely more than the quietest exhale. "Yes."

"Tell me, kitten."

"I want him too."

Day 23 Hour 5

Mishiru woke before the sun rose the next morning, and for a long moment lay in bed deciding what she needed to do. It all boiled down to three options. One, to escape out the greenhouse, and apologize to Shibuya for being unable to finish the experiment. That way, she could disappear to an uncharted island, and in her seclusion build up her emotional walls until she was just as strong and lonely as she could ever be.

Mishiru rolled over. The second option was that she could knock down the door to Ai's room, demand that he take her virginity, and subsequently become her and Kagerou's sex slave. While both options gave her pause - and the second made both her pulse race and her cheeks flush with shame as her mind flew through all the fascinating permutations of the sinful act - it only took a minute or two to decide on the third option: to continue with the experiment, say nothing provocative to Ai throughout the remainder of their time together, and continue to deny the fruition of both Kagerou's and her (newly discovered) desires.

Kagerou didn't like that choice, but there was far too much that could go wrong. More importantly, Mishiru knew the difference between lust and love, and after going through life in search of one, she was not immediately prepared to throw off such ideals for the promise of the other. Kagerou would just have to wait a little. After this she would get in touch with her desires...but not with Rei, nor with Ai. Or at least not in this situation, where she and he were veritable prisoners. It wouldn't be honorable, or right, or Mishiru. Kagerou grudgingly assented, but she simmered just below the surface, and Mishiru knew that if given the opportunity, she would absolutely attempt to sway her further.

That being largely settled, she slipped down to the kitchen, moving more quickly than she normally would. She wanted to beat Ai to breakfast, as preparing the meal was the only peace offering she could think of. She was irrationally pleased, therefore, when the omurice was halfway completed by the time she suddenly became aware of him at the doorway to the kitchen, standing still and silent and quite obviously staring at her. Glancing over her shoulder, she gestured to the table with her ladle.

"Breakfast will be ready in a couple minutes. Would you like to take a seat?"

Her head was turned just enough that she could hold his unwavering gaze from the edge of hers, and the moment stretched on, painfully. Yet she wouldn't look away until he did, for she was just as much at fault as he. It was a profound relief when he moved towards the table, stepping momentarily out of her vision. She glanced back down at the pan, wondering if her heart would beat this loudly every time he entered the room for the rest of her life.

"What are we having?"

Mishiru tensed. His sense of smell, as he had assured her, was legendary, and omurice was one of his favorite meals. He had to know exactly what she was preparing. Was this some odd form of a test? Or was this his version of the olive branch? Taking a chance, Mishiru replied, "Omurice. Ah, actually - would you get the ketchup out of the fridge? Then I can prepare the plates here."

He didn't respond, but a moment later she heard the refrigerator door open, then the sounds of Ai rummaging about, locating the ketchup. There was a cool draft of air at her back that was abruptly replaced by Ai - his sudden proximity bringing warmth, the smell of his spicy soap, and the bone-deep desire to touch him that nearly made her drop the spatula. He was directly behind her, nearly close enough to touch her...but he didn't. Instead, he placed the ketchup close to her right hand, leaned in infinitesimally closer to sniff at the omurice...then calmly walked back to the table, ignoring Mishiru's red cheeks and jumping pulse.

...

She could do this, she assured herself as she plated their breakfast and brought it over to the table. After all, he wasn't that handsome. Her resolve held until she placed his meal in front of him, and he glanced up with that look in his eye that meant he was exceptionally pleased with both the food itself, and its portions. It was the look that had always made something in her stomach swoop, and now she knew what it meant.

Ok, so she was perhaps a little doomed. That didn't mean she was going to give up, however. She tucked in grimly, nobly ignoring his little hum of pleasure when he took his first bite.

She could do this. He was just a man.

Day 26, Hour 17

It took three days for their strained peace to break, but when it did, it was spectacular. They were only a few days away from the one month mark, and Mishiru had crossed off yet another day on her calendar, allowing herself a small smile as she did. Disregarding the nigh overwhelming attraction she felt for her housemate, things were going well. They had even sat together in the library for over an hour last evening, absorbed in their own books, but in friendly silence, nonetheless.

Yet today was already a bit strained, as Ai had walked in on her and Shibuya's meeting. The conversation was largely over, but it had been just as Shibuya had handed her a fresh packet of medicine, and Ai's attention had narrowed in on the innocuous pouch. Mishiru had blushed, nervous about explaining exactly what it was - another month's worth of Eden's contraceptive and menstrual cycle regulator - when she had realized how it might look, and guilt over wanting to use the pill for its primary social connotation. Yet her weakness left as quickly as it came, and her determined expression must have told him quite a different story. His eyes had narrowed and he'd left the room abruptly, not even acknowledging Shibuya's quiet hello.

Their benefactor had watched them with an unchanging fascinated expression, and Mishiru didn't want to know what he was thinking. He had looked at her quite thoughtfully after Ai had left the room, before shaking his head and murmuring under his breath, "If only Aya could see him now…"

Mishiru doubted she was supposed to have heard that, but wondered who he was referring to - himself, or Ai. She wondered about it all day leading up until dinner. Was it a woman Ai knew? Their names were similar...could it be a sibling? She had never known anything about his family, save that he, like her, was an orphan when he came to Eden. Probably not a family member, then. Perhaps it was a girlfriend...or the reason for his unexplained illness. Shibuya had never claimed his illness to be physical, after all. And he could be correct in saying that there was no way this "malady" would spread to her, just as Ai would likewise be immune from her heartsickness over Rei.

Mishiru didn't like that possibility. She liked it even less when she realized she was jealous of this mystery woman. She, who hadn't even been jealous of Sakura! Yet that could be explained, she assured herself. Sakura was her friend, and had forgiven her for all her atrocities, as well as standing by her during her darkest hour. For that, Mishiru loved her nearly as much as she loved Rei, and made it impossible to be jealous of her. This left only the mysterious Aya to take the brunt of her irrational jealousy.

The disaster might have been averted had she been the one cooking that evening - cooking always tended to utterly absorb her - but it was Ai's night, and halfway through their dinner of chicken piccata with wild rice and steamed broccoli (they both favored Eastern cuisine, but Shibuya had bought the ingredients for them and both had expressed a willingness to experiment) her curiosity finally got the better of her. She looked up, and asked the simple question with such far reaching consequences. "Who is Aya?"

Ai's cup clattered as he set it down, and it took her a minute to realize that meant he had nearly dropped it. "Excuse me?"

His expression was dark, and it caused the first tendrils of unease trickled down her spine. Still some mixture of curiosity and jealousy prompted her to continue. "Is she the reason you're here?"

One moment he was glaring at her from across the table, and the next he was gone. Had Mishiru not been so finely tuned to her immediate surroundings, she wouldn't have felt the faint puff of air as he streaked past her. For a moment she did not follow, stunned and a little guilty. Yet then her jealousy swamped her, and with it came a sense of fair play. He knew all about her feelings for Rei. Why were his feeling for this Aya off limits?

She took off after him before she could examine her feelings more closely, and realize what her irrationality meant in terms of her feelings for him. It took her longer than she'd expected to find him, but he had never favored the greenhouse. Yet here he now was, shoulders rigid and fists clenched, staring out the foggy glass. It was nearly full dark, yet the gloom was punctuated by flashes of lightning, courtesy of the raging storm outside. His stance grew even more stiff as she entered the room, and this somehow made her even more upset. Previous experience dictated that she should engage him in a no-holds-barred fight, but her last inch of prudence held her back. It would be too easy to surrender to Kagerou if she did that...and her desire.

"Ai-"

"Don't." His voice was clipped, terse, yet not nearly authoritative enough. Embers lit in her belly when she thought about all the way she could make his protest utterly meaningless. "She's not a part of this experiment. Just let it go."

"Oh, and Rei is?"

"I said to let it go!" In a fit of temper, Ai ripped one of the UV lamps off the wall and threw it clean through the glass. Mishiru paled. The glass was over a foot thick, and the UV lamps shouldn't be that strong… What force had he needed to expend to break the former without the latter merely shattering into a thousand pieces on the floor? That more than anything drove home her mistake. No matter who Aya was (is?) she should have said nothing at all.

Rain lined the floor, causing the thick shards of glass to glint. The blustery wind tore through the greenhouse, and the plants that Mishiru had painstakingly drawn were buffeted and torn. Yet she could not look away from Ai, who, having been closest to the point of impact, was bleeding from a thousand little cuts that glittered as he shook loose the shards from his skin. Mishiru swallowed, eyes wide. Her gaze was drawn in particular to the line of blood dripping slowly down his throat, coming from a gash on the underside of his chin. Aya no longer mattered. She wanted to step close to him and drag her tongue up the long line of his throat, lapping up the blood until she reached his lips. And then...and then…

His sharp intake of breath interrupted her fantasy, and too late she remembered that he could sense her arousal. Fleeting shame immobilized her before she realized it was silly - he already knew what she wanted...she already knew what she wanted...there was no use hiding from it. If Kagerou was right and he wanted her, even just a little, she would try. Even if she was wrong and he shot her down, it couldn't be worse than Rei's rejection.

Couldn't it? You've never been half so close to Rei. Ai's rejection would haunt you forever - every time you cook, every time you sketch, every time you fight, every time you lay awake at night, resisting the urge to touch yourself…

Mishiru shook her head, not in denial of Kagerou's argument, but to clear her mind. It was hard enough to focus when he was still just standing there, dripping blood onto the laminated floor, and watching her with a dark, unwavering gaze. She took a small step forward, swallowing nervously. If he didn't want this, wouldn't he say something? Run? Fight? Yet he did none of those things, and she was emboldened. So she took another step and it was then that Rei fell to the floor, folding inwards like a poorly constructed house of cards.

Mishiru froze. Panic clamored against the insides of her skull. There was another explanation for his immobility, she belatedly realized, and it was serious injury. Had the glass clipped his neck? Embedded itself into his brain? Surely, it wasn't possible for someone to be allergic to glass, was it? Either way, she had to help him. She sank to her knees in front of him, disregarding the shards of glass that lodged themselves into the denim of her jeans. She had barely managed to hoist him back to a sitting position before his eyes opened. Their expression was vague and unfixed, and the lack of awareness they displayed nearly made her drop him.

"Hey there, pretty lady."

That really did make Mishiru drop him. Thankfully, Ai fell backwards, catching against the greenhouse's back wall. He winced before smiling broadly. "Now, now, pretty lady. Gotta' play nice with me. At least until we get to the bed."

Mishiru gaped. Even more unsettling than what he was saying (and just what had happened to the sarcastic 'sweetheart?') was that he was smiling. It was a wide, sincere, uncomplicated smile, as if he were truly happy to see her and reference her overwhelming lust for him. It was this smile that made her mind stall.

Ai continued blithely in the face of her astonishment. "Unless you don't want me anymore? Mmmm, but I think you do. At least, I hope you do. I think we're right up each other's alleys, pretty lady. If you weren't so in love with Rei you'd probably see that too." His brow furrowed but it smoothed over almost immediately, like a cloud in a quickly passing storm. "Everyone's in love with Rei," he muttered. "I may be missing out on something here…"

Drunk. He was somehow in the later stages of intoxication when the only alcohol in the house was the dregs of a bottle of cooking sherry. Her mind was still only functioning at half speed because rather than provide her with the answer to this mystery - and there was one, she knew there was a reason for this - instead it supplied her with, "But what about Aya?"

His head fell to the side and it nearly caused him to topple over. "My mom? Well I guess she would want grandchildren, but we're young. We have options. We might not even like each other outside of the bedroom...and the kitchen...and all the places where we fight." Ai nodded to himself, sagely and slightly off center. "I think we should cross that bridge when we come to it, pretty lady. First things first. Do you like me?"

He had asked so quickly and so guilelessly that she could do was wordlessly nod. She froze nearly immediately, but had lowered her head enough to indicate her assent. Drunk as he was Ai caught it, and his smile was like sunlight breaking through the clouds. The innocent beauty of it made her chest throb, and unconsciously her gaze dropped to his chin. His weak point, she thought suddenly. That place on rare kind's bodies that make them drunk and vulnerable. He'd answer me honestly if I asked him if he wanted me. If he liked me. All I have to do is ask…

When Mishiru opened her mouth, however, what came out was this. "You're covered in glass, Ai. We have to clean you up, ok?"

His smile never wavered. "As long as you're the one doing it, pretty lady."

Day 27, Hour 4

It had taken Mishiru nearly an hour to carefully remove all the glass embedded in his skin, and then get Ai into the shower. He made things incredibly difficult by smiling goofily down at her, telling her how good a cook she was, and bending to hug her at the most inconvenient times. Stripping him down was only made bearable when he careened to the left, nearly braining himself on the towel rack. Thankfully, it cut through her lust. She wanted him, yes, but she wanted him conscious.

It was only when he was safely deposited in the shower that she could relax. She watched from the other side of the frosted glass door, his dark figure obscured but still upright. As long as he was still standing, everything would be all right. If he fell, she'd have to go in there after him, and god help her keep her sanity then. Seeing him naked was doable, especially as he'd been weaving on his feet. Naked and wet would be the final blow to her fortitude.

She watched his arms raise to soap his hair and swallowed thickly. Kagerou pulsed underneath her skin, whispering encouragement. Not yet, she assured them both. It will come. But I want him coherent. At least the first time. And then, with a little flare of self-awareness, I want him to choose me. Not just be chosen.

But first: "I'm sorry about bringing up your mother, Ai. I didn't know who she was - Shibuya just mentioned her in passing. I was...I was just curious."

"...and jealous?"

Her cheeks pinked. "No."

Kagerou, just as motherless as Mishiru - but apparently not Ai - chose then to subside, and rising above the steady patter of the water from the shower head came Ai's voice, still drunk, but more focused than it had been in the greenhouse. "Do you know why we fight, Mishiru?"

Mishiru, who was more focused on Kagerou's easy capitulation and the way he had finally used her name answered distractedly. "Because I want yo-" She interrupted herself by sucking in a harsh breath through her teeth. Oh god, she had not meant to say that. Even when he was this out of it she had not meant to say that.

He chuckled and the sound caused goose pimples to ripple over her flesh. "Good to know, pretty lady, good to know. That's not why I fight you, of course. Would you like to know why?" A dark shadow fell from his head, reaching across to turn off the water. "My mother would kill me for admitting this, you know. Kind of a fitting segue. But it's something you should hear before...well. Before you fuck me senseless, I suppose."

The water cut off and the door shot open, vibrating wildly against the far wall. Mishiru could barely notice. Ai took up her entire attention. Wet, naked, and determined as he stepped over the threshold of the shower, their eyes met and she could see that he was nearly lucid, if not completely so. This caused her blood to rush in her ears, nearly deafening her to his follow up.

"I fight you - I cannot stay away from you - because you are the most infuriatingly perfect woman I have ever known. You are beautiful, an excellent cook, intelligent, interesting...and will kill without hesitation. You will hurt me and enjoy doing it. You are perfect." Although his expression was steady, he wobbled. Mishiru was too amazed to take notice.

"And I can't fucking stand it."

Mishiru's heart must have somehow vacated her body between the opening of the shower door and Ai's confession, because all that was left was euphoria, crashing through her like waves, obliterating all sense of right and wrong, expectation and plan. This was something different than admitting lust. This was at the level of spiritual enlightenment. She opened her mouth to say something - what, she did not know, but something would have come out - but before she could the passion in Ai's expression slipped away, his eyes dimming. Only the fact that she had already been moving towards him allowed her to catch him before he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Day 30, Hour 8

For the next 24 hours Ai slipped in and out of fever dreams and restless waking, his temperature never quite high enough to warrant panic, but never stable enough to ease Mishiru's fear. He had been more ill than Shibuya had let on. Mishiru brought this to his attention rather definitively when he finally checked in on them later that day.

For once, Mishiru sensed him coming. Without turning away from Ai, she let Shibuya have it. "Where have you been?! Ai's sick - he's been like this for a full day! We need medicine - I can't keep sweating him to keep the fever down!" Her voice rose frantically, and it was this that caused Shibuya to recoil instinctively before rushing forward to the bed. After checking Ai's temperature with the back of his palm and gently pulling up his eyelids to observe the widened pupils. His fingers trailed down to the scab underneath his chin. Then he leaned back and smiled ruefully at Mishiru.

"He'll be fine. I told you he was overworked. Just give him a few more hours and then he'll be up and about, whining about food. You gave him some aspirin, right?"

Mishiru grit her teeth. "Yes, I obviously gave him aspirin. His fever was over 100 degrees! This isn't fine, Shibuya. He hit his weak point and then passed out-"

"Ahh, so you noticed that, did you..."

"Of course I noticed that! What else could-"

"And you probably noticed the location of his weak spot as well, didn't you." Shibuya's voice was no longer teasing, nor relieved. Just very serious, and Mishiru belatedly realized that the location of the rare kinds' weak spot was sacrosanct knowledge, and never willingly revealed. Slowly, she nodded, and when Shibuya didn't immediately respond, she reached for Ai's hand to check his pulse, just to give her something to do. It was slow yet steady, and only marginally stronger than it had been an hour before.

Shibuya sighed, and his sharp eyes missed nothing. He ran them down to where she held Ai's hand, and wondered if he had miscalculated. "I'm sorry, Mishiru. I didn't listen when you both expressed your concerns about living together. I ignored them, thinking that I knew better. Clearly, I was wrong. I think it's time to end the experiment. As soon as Ai recovers you both can go home."

Mishiru inhaled sharply. Ending the experiment now was a waste of all that had happened over the past month, not to mention Ai's confession. Her panic made her unwise and her protest came spilling out unplanned. "No! I mean, that's such a waste, and- and we were doing better, and..." Rather than look at Shibuya's surprise, she glanced down at Ai's hair, spilling over the pillow. There was a glint among the dark strands, a tiny shard of glass. It sparked an idea in her mind. "We didn't negate- even when he was bleeding and I was picking out the glass. I was bleeding too. On my knees, and on my forearm, my fingertips...our blood had to have mixed. But we didn't negate. Don't you want to figure out why that was?"

Shibuya looked at her long and hard, and Mishiru did her level best not to swallow nervously. Belatedly, she realized she was still holding his hand.

"And is this what he wants, or what you want, Mishiru?"

Her head was full of fragments, jumbled and meshing together, not always coherently. But something stood out clearly amongst the flotsam of her mind. "It's something we will have to talk about and decide together, Shibuya. He might not want anything to do with...the experiment after this. But we are going to have to wait until he gets better to ask him."

Shibuya looked down at his own hands, locking his fingers together as he considered. He was quiet long enough for Mishiru to realize she was being foolish - he had already made up his mind, and she hadn't given him reason enough to change it. Every step of the way they had argued and bickered, and he had seen all that firsthand. Clearly, the decision before her was this: was she strong enough to pursue Ai after Shibuya ended the experiment? The idea chilled her. She needed more time here to decided, more time in an environment that they both knew and was filled with them...and who knew? Maybe when he went back to the outside world, he would change his mind. Would he find her so perfect if they weren't trapped here?

She didn't know what she would do if that answer was no. She suspected the fallout would put her time as Eden's slave to shame, however.

"Perhaps I was a touch hasty, my dear. You are right - you and Ai should discuss the continuation of the experiment first, and then come to me with your decision."

Mishiru's head shot up, and Shibuya's hastily swallowed grin convinced her that the old man had been playing her the entire time. She flushed red, and Kagerou's mocking laughter caused flames to dance on the backs of her eyelids.

She would never again question Shibuya's instincts of self-preservation. The man scooted out the door so quickly she hadn't even time to set her hand aflame. Sighing, she let her anger go, knowing it would serve no purpose. Besides, she had to be calm for when Ai awoke and they discussed the future of the experiment.

She sat back down at the bedside, prepared to wait, worry, and watch.

Day 31, Hour 5

The quiet scrape of a knife against plate roused her from her dreams, yet the realization that she was lying on the bed, cocooned within the bedcovers woke her up quickly. Her eyes flew open just as she recognized the scent of peanut noodles, and that there was a very good reason for the right side of her body being far warmer than the left. Ai was tucked in against her, sitting up against the headboard and calmly finishing off the last of his dinner. For a moment, all she could do was gape up at him, struggling to understand how their positions had reversed. Hadn't she been the one sitting by the bed, waiting for him to recover? When had he woken and made food?

More importantly, when and how had she gotten into his bed?

As if he could read her questions in her boggling stare, Ai answered in his usual, expressionless tone. "I hope you don't mind me moving you into the bed. You didn't look all that comfortable hunched over like that, and when I couldn't wake you I figured you wouldn't mind. Besides, I had to get up anyway. I was hungry." To illustrate his point, he sucked in the last peanut noodle, his cheeks hollowing. Mishiru swallowed in response. The shape of his cheekbones shouldn't make her want to pepper kisses all over his face, nor should it make her want to force him to suck on sensitive areas of her body...

...she was a terrible woman, or maybe just a woman who was seriously sexually repressed.

"There's plenty left for you downstairs, tho, if you want some. I figured it was the least I could do, after that...display." His face shuttered, and Mishiru wondered what he regretted more: losing consciousness and surrendering to fever, or his confession. She wondered if this was how the end began, and if her chance to be with him was over just as suddenly as it began. Not willing to let that be the case - at least, not without a fight - she squirreled her hand out from under the blanket and rested it gently on the crook of his elbow.

"It wasn't - it was no trouble. I mean, you couldn't help what happened. It was my fault anyway; I should never have mentioned your mother. I'm so sorry, Ai. I didn't know."

He watched her with deep, dark eyes, and Mishiru felt words bubbling out of her that she had no control over. "Shi- Shibuya wants to end the experiment. I told him that it would be up to you. I mean, that we would decide. What do you think? Do you want to stay? Or...or to go home?"

For a long while he continued to watch her, blinking slowly. Finally, "What about you? Do you want to go home?"

When she whispered her response, Mishiru felt as if she were tumbling down through the skies with no ground to catch her. "No."

His eyes widened and he leaned instinctively towards her, yet pulled away just as quickly. Both eyes fell to the plate in his lap, and Mishiru could barely breathe for the ocean roaring in her blood. Had he wanted to kiss her? Was that what he had almost let himself do? Why in flames' name had he stopped? He knew that she reciprocated. Maybe even more than reciprocated. So what was he waiting for?

Unless he had changed his mind...or she was wrong about his gesture...or he was crazy. That was a legitimate option, Mishiru considered with a spinning head and matching sensibility. She had always been drawn to those who courted madness...

While Mishiru deliberated, Ai settled his empty plate on the nightstand. When he turned back to face her he asked, apropos of nothing, "Why the hell are we so angry? What is wrong with us?"

Mishiru's mind stalled. It was so far removed from what she had been pondering, she was unable to move beyond the thought that perhaps she had gotten Ai all wrong, and had somehow imagined his entire infatuation with her. Was he trying to warn her off? Or had he sincerely switched gears into a totally new topic? "I, um…"

Ai continued, only once glancing at her from under his long lashes to see if he had discomfited her as much as he'd wanted to. "I suppose we can only answer for ourselves, pretty lady. I'll even go first." He took a deep breath, and it was the only indicator that he was painfully serious. "I'm alone."

Suddenly there was a ray of hope piercing through her fears. "I'm...lonely too."

He closed his eyes. "I failed them."

And then for a moment she understood beyond her knowledge, knowing his character without his actions, and his choices without his past. It was like the bright flare of an epiphany: she was not alone in her feelings; his guilt at having failed the rare kinds held him back. He needed her just as much as she needed him, yet he couldn't allow himself to accept that. If she could only convince him they were not split along the lines of rare kind and power user - that they weren't, in fact, all that different at all...perhaps then they would finally get what they both needed.

Yet she couldn't be sure. Kagerou was silent, so this was a rare decision she'd have to make on her own. It was with utmost trepidation that she finally responded, "I failed myself."

His eyes stayed closed. When he finally responded, his voice was rough and nearly reluctant. "I want you."

"Both of us?" It was out of her mouth before she could help herself, and his eyes flickered open. He stared down at her helplessly before Mishiru realized it was too soon to expect an answer to that particular question. So she wriggled up into a sitting position, and he remained still all the while. Slowly, she leaned forward, never taking her gaze from him. When he made no move to stop her, run, or beat her senseless, she gave in. Gathering all her courage she brushed her lips against his, taking both her first kiss, and his.

The kiss was gentle for only a moment. Barely had she parted her lips before he surged against her, pressing against her so forcefully she nearly bit his lip in response. His mouth moved hungrily against hers, and his response set her free - all her former uncertainty went up in the flames of their desire. She, who had never before been kissed, set the pace of their kiss by slanting her mouth over his. He groaned low in his throat, and pushed harder against her, until she was dizzy from his scent and his mouth, drowning in the fire of their unschooled passion…

Kagerou surged up inside of her, and she found her strength. She pushed back against him until he tilted perilously on his side, and she swung her leg around him as he fell on his back. Their mouths broke apart as his head fell backwards, dark hair splaying across the pillow, eyes wide and hungry. She leaned back to peruse him, recognizing their current position from her dream the night of their altercation. Slowly, she rocked her hips against his, feeling the hard length of him straining for her. His hands brushed her hips, and she smiled at the way his breath caught in his throat when she ground down against him more forcefully.

Naked. Want. Mine. Kagerou's desires came sharply and without subtlety, and Mishiru found herself unbuttoning his shirt before she realized it was not entirely her will. Yet she didn't not want him naked, so she allowed Kagerou her moment. By the time she reached the last button however, Ai was getting impatient. He rocked up against her, and the look in his eye was less subservient than she would have liked…

She ran her hands slowly down his bare chest, flipping open his shirt as she did. Yet when she reached the buckle of his belt she stopped, and playfully ran her fingers up her own body. She was shocked at her own daring - as outside of her desires she was a modest young woman, and more so this was her first time at everything - but the heat in his eyes and Kageoru's urging made it easy to surrender to this primal impulse.

She brought her fingers to the first button, before hesitating. Looking down at him from under her lashes, and rocked her hips in a figure eight motion. Then she tapped the button with the pad of her finger. "Would you like to see?"

"Yes." His answer was strangled and immediate. It made the blood rush in her veins, and her brave enough to undo the first button. With a little smile, she gestured to the second.

"And this one, too?"

"Mishiru." His voice pleaded more than his eyes, and his hands caught haltingly at her hips. She stopped rocking immediately.

"If you want to see, then you have to be a good boy, and lie completely still."

There was a strangled noise that came from the back of his throat, but he obeyed. Letting his hands rest on her hips, he laid back down and simply watched her, eyes burning.

Mishiru swallowed. Between his eyes and Kagerou's urging, she was going to lose control of herself very soon. Yet there was something that she wanted, and now that she was here, she knew exactly how to say it.

She unbuttoned another two buttons before beginning. "You know what I am, and what I want. You're right. We're right up each other's alley, Ai." Another button, and her blouse hung open. She shucked it off, and reached back around for her bra. "I want all those things. To control you...to own you...to hurt you. It's going to happen, Ai. We'll make up a safe word - and it won't be anything we can't handle - but it will happen."

She unhooked the clasp form her bra, and it slithered down her body. Ai's glance dropped reflexively to rosy areolae, crowned by stiffening nipples, but then shot back up to her eyes. He felt, if it was possible, even harder against her. Mishiru knew with a beginner's confidence that it wasn't just from her body...but also from her promise.

Now for the hard part. Mishiru swallowed, and leaned down so that their faces were close together, her breasts resting on his chest. "But not this time. This time...the first time, I want it to be about us...not our desires." Her eyes dropped down to his lips, momentarily too timid to look at his expression. "All the other times it can be what we want, but just this first time I want us to be equals, and-"

"I love you."

Mishiru's eyes flew to his. "What?"

He swallowed before bringing up his hand to her face, awkwardly stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You heard me."

Mishiru had always envisioned love as a music box, holding tight all the stolen scraps of emotion that Eden could not wrest from her, painted in pretty colors and accompanied by a pleasant, if unchanging tune. Ai's whispered confession, coupled with the grudging adoration in his gaze, shattered that concept into pieces. It made all that was rational and logical hide away someplace far away, and Kagerou it muted entirely. It caused her to sink her mouth into his, and moan her response against his mouth. Hands reached between them to wrestle off their remaining articles of clothing, all without breaking their desperate kiss. Within the space of several disjointed minutes, they were bare against each other, rubbing against each other in a primal dance that their bodies understood, even if their minds did not.

Mishiru remembered this time in flashes of sensation. His hands gliding across her ribcage, spanning delicately against her breasts. Her hands dipping low, brazenly wrapping against his member. The ragged inhale when she first began to stroke. The fire that burst in her womb when his mouth suckled her nipple. All ran together until she found herself astride him once more, his manhood 3 inches deep into her, and her last great sanctity of self utterly breached.

It was not the stinging discomfort that stopped her. She was no stranger to pain. But it took her a moment to get over the oddness of someone being inside of her in a natural, biologically possible way, and Ai, seeing the odd expression on her face, misunderstood.

His voice was low and soothing, if a little ragged. "You're going to have to take responsibility, pretty lady."

Mishiru's head snapped up, causing her to sink down another inch. The discomfort and the oddness of his words caused her anger to ripple just beneath her skin. "What?"

Ai swallowed thickly before continuing, straining to hold himself completely still below her. "For me, what else? 'Cuz I'm yours now, and you're going to have to deal with me for the rest of our lives. I'll love you endlessly, pretty lady, as long as you never- unnh- leave."

Kagerou had used the exact same phrase. How had...? Yet then something more pertinent occurred to Mishiru. It was a concept so glittering and foreign it completely distracted her from the intrusion, and she slid down, taking him to the hilt.

"Oh, god. Oh, Mishiru."

The discomfort was far away now, along with her heartache and loneliness. All that was left before her was a stunning vista of possibility. "Ai, was that...was that a proposal?"

His eyes were dark and unfocused. He swallowed thickly. "It is if you say yes."

The madness that had taken hold only minutes ago crept back over her. She rocked against him purposefully, causing his head to fall back, and forcing a growl from his lips. The reaction was so engrossing she nearly forgot to answer.

"Ask me in the sunlight," she gasped, stumbling over the rhythm of her hips against his. The pain was bleeding away, and it was replaced by sheer sensation - the paradoxical strength and smoothness of him inside of her, the muscles of his legs straining against her, the scent of them hanging in the air, the burning need originating in her heart and spreading to her womb. "After we've fixed the greenhouse. Then I'll answer. I promise."

"Mishiru-"

The last coherent thought she had before losing herself in their lovemaking was if her procrastination had been rendered ineffective by the expression on her face. She hoped he would mistake it for passion. She knew - and so did Kagerou, who purred with pleasure - that it was love.

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Day 122, Hour 8

Several months later, Mishiru stood directly in a shaft of early morning sunlight, streaming in from the colored glass of the greenhouse. It had taken several weeks and Shibuya's assistance to hit on superheating the shards into a serviceable plate, then overlapping them so that they resembled what they had been. Yet now all was made anew, the plants safe, and more importantly, she and Ai were healed as well.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, subtly glorying in the feel of white silk against her skin. She had never worn a dress like this. Even in her dreams she had never imagined what it would feel like, nor what it would mean. Yet now...since everything had changed all those months ago…

The door leading to the rest of the house swung open, and Ai stepped through. He was not dressed in a western style suit - unlike her, he chose to adorn himself in traditional Japanese robes. He had teased her about wanting a white dress so badly, but now she was grateful for the veil that masked her expression. This way, he wouldn't see how handsome she found him dressed as such, nor how much she loved him until he lifted it over her eyes, a gesture she found so deeply meaningful.

The door closed behind him, and he strode purposefully towards her. Although he tried for a solemn expression, likely remembering how taboo their approaching union was, the happiness in his eyes gave him away. Yet he paused as he approached, glancing once towards the one noticeable seam in the ceiling, where even she could not superheat it to perfect smoothness.

Mishiru understood. It was there that they had lost control and tumbled into each other's hearts. It was also there that he had proposed, several months later, and, as she had requested, in the sunlight.

His steps slowed as he reached her, and his eyes raked over her form. Now he could not help the wolfish grin tugging at the corners of his lips, and Mishiru was sure that her answering smile was clearly visible through the lace of her veil. They had debated having Shibuya preside over their ceremony, knowing that they could emotionally blackmail him into doing so. Yet they had eventually decided against it, both not wanting to spark painful memories, and also because they wanted this momentous occasion to belong solely to them.

As such, it would be a shortened ceremony, with only what they deemed most important. There would be no family or friends to see them off and wish them well, but they would have each other, and that was paramount. Everything else was secondary. Their union - their promise to each other - would stand foremost in their heads and hearts, and unlike their predecessors, they would never be torn apart.

It was a promise they had made every time they came together since their first time. It was now going to be made with a gesture more powerful than even their heady forays into sex.

Mishiru banished her thoughts as her intended stood in front of her, now watching her with that quiet expression she had become familiar with over the last few months. Her smile faltered as she too was influenced by the power of this moment. In just a few minutes, they would be bound to each other. Not in a legal sense, of course, as they were both non-persons, unrecognized by every government in the world. Yet they both felt their imminent union to be as binding and immutable as life, death, and hope - the last of which being something they had learned through their time with each other.

Finally, Ai cleared his throat and reached for her hands. She placed hers in his readily. They had decided that he would speak first, as would the man in western tradition. He had been a little surprised, but she had insisted. Dominant as she was in the bedroom, that by no means meant she did not want a little fairy tale romance on her wedding day!

He cleared this throat once more - a clear signal of his nerves - before he began. "I take you to be my soulfully wedded wife, to love until the end of our days; to walk with you no matter where you go; to respect you through our differences; to honor you above all others, and to light the way for you when we are surrounded by darkness. In return I give you all that I am: my weakness and my strength, my laughter and my sorrow, my joy and my pain. I am yours until our last breath, and I will never leave, deny, or betray you." At the end of their practiced speech, his voice faltered, and Mishiru's eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "I love you, Mishiru. I'll never let you be alone again."

She was supposed to say every word back to him, just as he had. They had spent hours crafting their vows, wanting them to reflect not only them, but their abnormal lives and their responsibilities. Yet now that he had said them her heart was overflowing, and even Kagerou hummed with complete satisfaction, thrumming against the undersides of her skin. She found herself eschewing ceremony by throwing back her veil and then throwing herself into his arms, kissing him firmly on the lips, again and again.

He let her for a long time, but finally drew back. "You're supposed to say it back, Mishiru…"

She smiled through her joyous tears. "You are mine. I am yours. I love you so much." She swallowed thickly. "I respect you, and honor you, and need you...and I will fight heaven and earth so that we are never parted. We'll never be alone, ever again-"

This time, he drew her to him, and their ceremony dissolved into a series of heartfelt kisses, sanctified by their love. It was by no means a traditional ceremony, and quite a few eyebrows would have raised at their impetuosity, as well as the unorthodox ending. Yet for them it was perfect, and besides, had either of them truly minded, they could simply reenact the ceremony later.

For now they were in love, and they had all the time in the world.

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...or at least until they make their appearance into Code:Beginning…

I apologize for the long wait. This was originally quite different, especially Mishiru. I'd not thought too hard about her character while reading the manga, but while writing this she sort of shook me really hard and pointed me in this somewhat controversial direction. I had a hard time writing her, but I'm glad for the experience.

I hope you enjoy this one shot! There are others on the way, but most (such as Shibuya and Sakurako's one-shot) won't be posted until I get a little farther with Code:Beginning. There will be spoilers, and other exciting things to come!