AU. 'In the 3-am calm of the still fall night, Tomoe felt like he was the only inhabitant of the world.' Then things happen. Second in the 'Of Honor and Lost Causes' verse. {Nanami x Tomoe, and other stuff that does not involve triangles}.

frameworking

The soft breeze blew the dry leaves away from his path, as he swiftly walked back home. The night had grown cold as it became darker, and the clothes that had clung to his body with sweat not two hours before were hidden under layers of warm clothes.

It was late, really late, and Tomoe was way deviated from his standard pattern of behavior. He liked things in his life predictable and under his control, and seldom could he be found wandering the streets at night without a solid reason. Tonight, it had been Kurama's concert, who'd been devastatingly excited about the unusual venue he had secured. He had showered his friends with merchandising and free tickets.

In the 3-am calm of the still fall night, Tomoe felt like he was the only inhabitant of the world. The yellow street lamps were like dead torches, showing the way into a chasm of shadows. The cold kept the night creatures silent, and even the soft crackling of the leaves as he stepped on them seemed dulled, distant.

He was very content being alone like this, basking in the little cloud of mist that appeared as he breathed.

That was why, at first, when he passed by the figure lying by the bus stop he paid no greater attention to it. Until, a couple of steps afterwards, he realized that a sliver of logic was missing from that scene. Despite himself, he retraced his steps back to the deserted bus stop.

His first thought was that she was dead. The girl lay scattered on the sidewalk, her purse and coat on the ground next to her, as if she'd slumped down and her things had fallen out of her grip. But she breathed, and her skin was crawling with subtle goosebumps, and the hem of her short skirt was riding slightly higher than what was proper in Tomoe's eyes.

He knelt by her side. He observed her, and poked her with his long-nailed finger. He tried shaking her awake. But still there she lay, as if the sidewalk was the most comfortable place where she could ever sleep, and Tomoe was at a loss as to what to do next. His honor didn't let him walk away on her, and his nonchalance told him to let it go and go back home.

He tried shaking her awake once more, for the last time, he told himself. To his surprise, it seemed to have an effect. The girl opened her eyes, looked around utterly disoriented, and tried standing up. All the while seeming to fail to notice the tall man crouching next to her, who stood up after she was on her wobbly feet.

'Well, my job here's done,' he said under his breath, and tried to start going his way. But the girl said something grandly unintelligible, and proceeded to sway dangerously, trying to grab hold of the frame of the bus stop to steady herself. But the bus stop was not within her reach, as he duly observed, and the girl continued to move unsteadily, apparently trying not to fall from an imaginary tight rope, or something. Pissed at himself, Tomoe looked at the girl, trying to make up his mind. Evidently, she was completely drunk. She'd probably been at some house party and then meant to –somehow- return somewhere, and ended up shamefully intoxicated in some nondescript suburban neighborhood.

It placed some kind of unwelcome and tyrannical moral obligation on him. He just couldn't let her lie there like that, his inner voice said. And when he tried asking for her name, address, whatever, she just slouched dramatically, and would have sunken again into the ground if he hadn't caught her.

So what was he to do?

Blaming all the gods, the known ones and the unknown ones, he lifted her into his arms and picked up her things. She was very cold to the touch, and shivered as he covered her with her coat. While he slowly walked back home, he thought of looking through her purse for an ID. Then he could put her in a cab and appease his conscience.

But though he sat down on a random chipped-green-paint bench by the sidewalk, girl still positioned in his arms, and meticulously went through her purse and her every pocket, she had no identification on her, and there was nothing he could do. He blamed her typical reckless teenage behavior. Because, come on, how old could that girl be? 17, tops. And drunk.

When he was that age, he reasoned with himself, girls did not get passed out drunk. It was not cool. You just didn't do it. Well, he'd done it. But he wasn't a girl, he conceded, as he started walking again, and he didn't drink himself under the table if he was alone in unknown places. Self restraint was always a priority for him. One had to know his own limits. He'd learnt his very well in Mizuki's sake-filled house parties. But, whatever.

Thoughts about what was proper and what wasn't kept him entertained all the way back home, and he hardly felt the nameless girl's weight in his arms.

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When he opened the door, the apartment was really dark, with the exception of some streaks of yellowish light that filtered from the street lamps. It looked slightly hallowed, as if wisps of magic were left in the corners where the dark was thickest, under the sofas and inside the cupboards. He'd smiled privately if it were not for his present predicament. In the end, deciding it was the chivalrous thing to do, he deposited the stranger on his own bed. With a sigh, he wiped the slight trace of drool from her chin, took her shoes off and tucked her in.

He buried his face in his hand, massaging the bridge of his nose. He was sleepy and slightly annoyed.

What am I doing, he asked himself.

Nothing ever gave him an answer, of course.

He peeped into his roommate's room. It was empty, of course. He'd lost sight of him during the concert, somewhen, and, judging by the little snake's reputation, he was probably in some random party getting the people around him drunk (and he himself in the process too, perhaps) for his own sport. Probably having tons of fun, very much unlike himself.

Resigned as to his sleeping place for the night, he grabbed a pillow and a warm blanket and dressed the sofa up to look as comfortable as it could. It was… passable. But even if he was extenuated from a long day's work and some wicked partying afterwards, he looked at his makeshift bed and couldn't bring himself to feel like sleeping.

He could hear the girl's soft breathing like a rhythmic interruption of the silence, drifting in the night breeze all the way to his ears, to torment him. He had a very acute sense of hearing, and he couldn't help being slightly haunted by the thought of something being alive other than him, and Mizuki's score of precious bonsais, the pet snake, and the giant catfish in the bathtub.

He gracefully made his way to the kitchen, where, thoughts racing, he put a kettle to boil. Tea would do him good. The kitchen window overlooked the street, three stories down. Nothing moved, but the leaves that the wind tossed aimlessly around, forming dancing little whirlwinds. It was really nice to be awake at night, to be a part of the sleeping world and the shifting shadows. It was a great pity that human life was meant to be centered around daylight.

… And what will you tell her when she wakes up? She'll probably scream for the police. And what will you do, then, silly fox? a voice in his mind, that sounded dangerously like his friend Kurama's, chastised.

He hated it, but whomever the voice really belonged to had a point.

Well, he shrugged, he guessed that was a problem he needn't take care of immediately. He made himself some soothing green tea, and went to sleep.

.

.

He welcomed the Saturday with a blessing.

It was very pleasant to wake up like that, with soft, mild autumn sunlight trickling onto his face. When he blinked his eyes open, he saw the last tall branches of the trees of the street through the window. Their leaves made for fascinating sun-catchers, letting the happy rays glisten through and around them.

The door to Mizuki's room was closed, so he guessed that his roommate had come back at some ungodly hour in the morning and didn't want to know a thing about the outside world at least until noon.

Idly, Tomoe brewed himself some coffee; and as he drank it coolly in the kitchen, he wandered what to do about his sudden guest. Nothing came to mind, he was blank.

The clock on the kitchen wall read 10.20 am. It was a nice time to be waking up after a night out, slightly early, even, but it was ok for him.

He crossed the apartment, and, opening the door, he went into his room. The light was dim and cozy, and the girl lay tangled in a mess of sheets, snoring slightly. He frowned. She was showing all kinds of too much skin; and, yet, rather than seductive she made for a really adorable sight, at least to him.

That annoyed him.

She annoyed him; and, strangely, too easily.

It was just creepy that he would be watching her like that, thinking things like those. It would not do.

But just as he was turning around to go for his second cup of coffee, the girl lazily stirred awake.

'Oh,' she muttered, still half-asleep, 'Ha ha, I had the weirdest dream. First, I was at Mamoru's wacky sophisticated party, then someone called the police, who arrived and started chasing that creepy Yatori person saying he was a drug dealer, then Mamoru's parents woke up and kicked us all out of the basement, and then I was a bit tipsy and couldn't find the bus stop and then I fell asleep, then some creep woke me up and tried to coax personal stuff out of me, ha ha, and it was so weird, haha, thank goodness it was only a dream.'

Her laugh froze in her throat, however, when she detected the very guilty-looking Tomoe, who had been caught mid-act of sneaking silently out of the room, and whose mind was reeling trying to tell if when she'd said some creep woke me up, she'd meant him.

Luckily for him, though, she didn't scream. She blinked at him, taking him in, and then looked at her surroundings. Oh, no, she thought.

She fell back onto the bed.

'That wasn't a dream… was it?'

'Like I would know,' he replied, carefully.

'My head hurts like… it really, really hurts. Where am I?' she asked.

'My place,' he answered, nonchalantly.

'… you didn't kidnap me, did you? Please, say you didn't kidnap me… or worse. We didn't… hook up… did we…?' she kind of panicked.

He sighed under his breath, annoyed, and chose to pointedly ignore her last question. 'Of course I didn't kidnap you. You were passed out drunk on the street, and what could I do. You had no ID. I brought you over. Now, say you're thankful and begone.'

She sleepily looked around the place. It was a very nice room, decorated in a very traditional and minimalistic fashion. The dim orange light that the curtains let through gave the place an imperial air. Like something out of an adventure movie or the diary of some famous explorer of the old times.

She sat up again, blushing in embarrassment when she saw he was still there, arms folded and leaning against the doorframe. For a moment, she was at a loss for what to do. On one hand, her head was killing her. On the other, she didn't want to overstay her welcome, and wanted to leave ASAP and never show her face in that neighborhood again, wherever it was she was.

Sitting as she was, she bowed at him. 'I'm really thankful for your kindness. I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble. Gosh, I'm so embarrassed. Sorry. And thank you…'

He looked at her. 'Hmmm,' he said. His eyes caught the morning light in a strange, slightly spectral way, and a shiver ran down her spine. And then, he was gone.

She sighed. Although his slightly snappy attitude made her want to yell at him, she was really kept in check by the magnitude of the favor he'd done to her that night. If she had been left there on the street to her own devices, who knew what could've happened to her. She forced her fiery temper to be humbled.

Also, the headache didn't make her feel like anything but dying or something. So she slowly got up and picked her things, and as she got out of the room, feeling as awful as if she were getting out of a gutter, across the living room she saw the guy, in the kitchen, gesturing for her to go over there.

Without saying anything, he forced a glass of water into her hands, and a tablet of painkillers. On the counter, next to her, sat a cup of coffee and some cookies, also evidently meant for her. She looked tentatively from her hands to his impassive face a couple of times, feeling rather confused. Not wanting to so readily accept her luck.

'Is it really for….?'

'Yes,' he said, curtly, 'Drink it up'.

'I'll be forever indebted to you for this, you know…'

'Needless,' he sighed. 'It's just common manners.'

Common manners? he asked himself, and watched her out of the corner of his eye as she sat on a stool and sipped the coffee with a dreamy look. Common manners my ass. I should have chucked her out to the street as soon as she woke up. What the hell am I doing?

He browsed though a recipe book, to try and keep himself distracted. Tried to focus on the most difficult recipe he could find, some sort of peach baklava. But she looked like she was savoring every centimeter of those cookies, and he became increasingly frustrated.

It's your fault. You fed her. Now deal with it, his inner voice grunted. He seemed to be his own worst enemy.

'You cook?' she asked, conversationally, finishing the last of her coffee.

'Yes. It's relaxing.'

'What are you planning to make?'

'Who knows. Now, if you're done, I'll show you how to get to the main road.'

She nodded, and beamed at him. Picking up her things, she followed him out of the apartment, down the stairs, and to the street, that looked really lively through the cheerful palette of mid-autumn colors.

'Thank you!' she said, as a goodbye, 'I'm really grateful. I'll think of a way to pay back all your kindness!'

He shook his head, dismissing the idea.

'It's fine,' he assured, 'forget about it.' She had a nice smile. He wondered if, secretly, he wanted her to mean that, if only to keep her around a while longer. She was too young for him, and childish and reckless, apparently, but she seemed to lighten his spirits. It was strange. He'd never felt like that before.

So quickly that he didn't notice, she eyed the address written on the apartment front. Right. She'd have to write it down, she wouldn't want to forget it.

He stood there and she waved at him and left, but he watched her until she turned around the corner and he lost sight of her.

.

.

It was only on Saturday of the following week that she managed to gather the courage to go across town to see her 'tall, dark and sexy' rescuer, as she had dubbed him when she realized she'd not asked his name. She'd decided that, seeing that he liked to cook, she'd cook something for him to thank him for saving her from the results of her Friday-night madness.

In all honesty, all she could make and be proud of was sasamochi, so she made him a full tray, which she arranged as artistically as she could. It looked rather decent.

She found the front door open, and went directly to knock at the door of the apartment she remembered, on the third floor.

Rather unexpectedly, it was another guy who opened the door. His hair was messy, he'd probably just woken up, and he was only in his underwear, and socks.

'Morning,' he said, 'How can I help you…?'

Slightly embarrassed, but determined, she answered 'Well… I'm looking for… eh… a tall guy… stylish hair… doesn't speak much?'

The guy nodded, 'Well, that would be Tomoe, ' he mused, '… do I know you?'

'Ha ha… probably not…' she said, uncomfortably, 'See… he kind of rescued me from a very weird situation last Friday and I'd brought this to say thanks…' and she gestured to the neatly packed tray in her hands.

'Rescued you, you say…?' the guy perked up, sniffing something good to torment his friend with, 'He went on an errand, but should be back soon. Wanna come in and wait for him?'

'I don't know,' she answered, 'I don't want to trouble you…' And she tried to look anywhere but the barely dressed person.

'Psh, never mind! Come in, I'll get dressed and make us something to drink. And then you can tell me all about Tomoe being gentlemanly, ha ha. I'm Mizuki, by the way, you are…?'

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A/N: Hahaha this is so childish xD But it was fun to write! And I hope you enjoyed it :) Dedicated to the lovely rekt who was really nice and encouraging!

This is the second 'partt' of the "Of Honor and Lost Causes" AUverse where Tomoe and Mizuki are roommates, 20sth, and pretty much normal humans. Kurama remains a glamorous rocker and never ever, no AUverse will ever change that xD

I'm thinking that I'm gonna let Mizuki have his fun and write another chapter to this story. So, comments are welcome! Very welcome!

See you next time!