It's just another typical, drunken night for Mamoru. Tonight is drearier due to the incessant downpour of rain that has been going on for the past two days straight. Tonight, instead of his normal perch atop one of the many towering skyscrapers of the city, he sits at a quiet, lonely bar with a glass of whiskey in front of him. He toys with the glass a little before tipping the remainder of the contents into his throat. His vision is already slightly blurred and he's only been here for about an hour or so.

The bar is quiet. It's not one of the many night clubs that are scattered about the city that are always packed with people. Instead, he has chosen a location with no more than seven or eight people scattered about the small building. The bar sits across from a wall that is completely glass giving a perfect view of the downpour going on outside with just a pair of packed cabinets on either end of the bar packed with different types of liquor. Mamoru pulls one of his cigarettes from his pack and thanks whoever it is that people thank these days that smoking is allowed here. Just as he lights the cigarette, the bartender slides him an ash tray and another glass of whiskey. He nods his thanks and returns his attention to the view of the street. A few, isolated businessmen in suits hurry through the rain to where ever they're headed some with briefcases covering their heads others with just their coats pulled tightly around them. A mother runs down the street with her infant child to the bus that has just pulled to a stop at the corner. The door swings open to the bar and Mamoru can't help but turn to see who the new tenants are. It is a young man and who appears to be his girlfriend laughing about something or other as he closes the umbrella that he has used to keep them both dry as they traveled here. It is clear this isn't their final destination but it's as good a place as any to try and wait out the rain.

Mamoru takes in the rest of those drinking here. A group of three middle-aged men share one table all exchanging stories that seem to be getting funnier and funnier with each drink they order. A couple in their forties or so sit at an excluded corner booth with an expensive bottle of wine between them. The husband is leaning into his wife's ear whispering and the wife continues to grow more and more visibly red with each comment he makes. The new arrivals grab a random little table and the man orders up a pair of drinks as they continue to laugh about how they got stuck in the rain or whatever it was that was so funny. And small group of college girls sit around a table and quietly gossip over their bottle of sake that they are all too eager to drink. Mamoru turns back to his drink and cigarette and continue to enjoy both. There's nothing of interest here and that's just how he likes it.

The minutes tick by and turn into hours. The rain intensifies and subsides but never stop. People come and people leave most of them drunkenly stumbling out the door. The bar starts to gain more customers and becomes more lively but not packed by any means. Mamoru allows his mind to travel from the thought to the thought but not really focusing on anything in particular. Mamoru orders what he plans to be his last drink when someone steps up to the bar next to him, takes a seat and orders up a sake. The voice is oddly familiar to him and he turns his head to see who it is that seems to have joined him.

His drunken eyes take in a handsome, white-haired man in a black suit. The man waits for his sake patiently, drains the drink in one gulp, orders another, and finally turns to Mamoru. He smiles slightly, almost gently like that of a protector, and says "Good evening, Mamoru." The identity of the person finally comes to him. Mamoru allows a long, exasperated sigh escape him and turns back to his drink. Why tonight? In fact, why at all? Mamoru doesn't what to talk to anyone much less this person. He sips at his drink and does his best to ignore the man that has come to join him.

"Come on, Mamoru. Is this any way to treat and old friend."

"I'd hardly describe what we have as a friendship. All I owe you is a thanks for helping me out with that guy and his sekirei when I first left the compound. Hell, I'll buy your next drink to show it but I doubt we'd really call each other friends, Homura."

"Hey now. I'm not working. You can be a bit friendlier if you want."

"Fine. Kagari. Whatever the hell you want to call yourself. Do you want that drink or not?"

"No, it's fine. I'm not staying too long. I just came to talk to you for a bit. Do you mind if we sit somewhere more private." Mamoru sighs again, stands, and motions for Kagari to follow him. They sit in a booth in one of the corners that are dimly lit. Neither say anything for a moment.

"I don't suppose you have any smokes on you, do you?" Mamoru asks Kagari. Kagari produces a half-full pack, pulls two from it, and passes one to Mamoru. Mamoru starts patting his pockets for his lighter but in his current state he can't find it.

"Here," Kagari snaps his fingers and a small flame emanates from his thumb, "allow me." Mamoru leans forward and allows the flame to engulf the tip of his cigarette. Kagari lights his own and shakes his thumb to blow the small flame out. They both recline on opposite sides of the table from each other. They silently smoke their cigarettes for a moment and Mamoru toys with his glass still full of whiskey. Finally, the silence gets to Mamoru and he decides to break it.

"Okay, what is it you wanted to talk about, Kagari. This silence is killing my drunk."

"I just wanted to see how you were holding up since...you know."

"Well, I'm just fine until the country runs out of whiskey and cigarettes." Mamoru drunkenly snorts at his comment and a weak smile spreads across his mouth.

"Come on. I know why you drink and smoke. Why don't you go see her?" Mamoru's smile instantly disappears and he stares hard at the sekirei across from him. So, this is the meaning of Homura's "friendly visit"? Mamoru's grip on his drink tightens ever so slightly.

"I know you miss her and you must know the feeling is mutual. A sekirei's power is derived from love and being close to who they are bound by fate to be near. I know you know this." Mamoru grumbles something under his breath but Homura doesn't notice. "You have to go back to her. Don't you think that she'd have forgiven you now? Why do you spend your time drinking yourself into oblivion every night instead?" Mamoru's grip tightens around his glass. It shatters suddenly stopping Homura and sending the whiskey into the air before settling on Mamoru's hand and the table surrounding it. Homura finally takes in Mamoru and notices how hard Mamoru is shaking at this point.

"Who the fuck are you to lecture me?" Mamoru looks up at Homura with rage laced into the corners of his eyes. "How dare you sit there and tell me the tenants of being a sekirei? If it's so damn important then why don't you have an ashikabi? Why do you spend your nights fucking random women in a desperate attempt to find yours? How can you possible understand how I feel?" A strong silence falls over the table as the two sekirei stare hard into each other's eyes. The first to cave is Homura. He flags down the lone waitress asking if he can pay for Mamoru's glass of whiskey and the broken glass. Mamoru immediately shuts down the offer and passes his MBI card to the waitress to take care of his tab. The two sit in silence across from each other until the waitress returns Mamoru's card. He nods in appreciation, stands, staggers for a moment, straightens himself and walks to the door. He hears Homura follow behind him but pays him no mind.

Mamoru steps through the door and takes off in a drunken sprint. He focuses on the building in front of him and keeps his balance. The effects of the alcohol fade from his body for a moment as he runs to the building. A few steps away he launches himself up and continues his sprint up the side of the building. He keeps his pace all the way to a window sill on the fourth floor. He uses the ledge to push himself up over the edge of the roof. He lands in a shallow puddle and skids across the roof on one foot for a couple feet. The alcohol washes over him again and he falls over. He curses at himself as he tries to push himself up. The rain has slowed to a light drizzle and he turns in a circle trying to decide the best way to return to his room. He decides on his path, takes a few deep breaths and prepares to set off when he hears another set of feet set down gently behind him. He lets out an exasperated sigh and turns to face Homura.

"What more do you want from me, Homura? I'm done talking to you. Just leave me the fuck alone."

"I wasn't done with our conversation. You need to go see her. It is a sekirei's destiny to be with one and only one person. You're lucky to have found yours and you don't know what will happen to you if you stay away from her for so long."

"What? Am I going to die? Maybe melt down into some puddle? We are artificial. You know that as well as I do; probably better than that. We're not human. We arrived here on some ship and no one knows where we came from and the only reason we have to be here is to find one person and fight in some bull shit game for some asshole's fun. What is the fucking point?"

Homura stands speechless for a moment staring hard into Mamoru's eyes as they stand the length of the roof from each other. Homura glances away from a moment and looks back.

"We may not be human but you can't deny that we feel the same emotion as any normal person does. We feel the desire to find our ashikabi, passion when next to them, anger at those who challenge them, sadness and longing when they are not by our side. You can't look me in the eye and tell me you weren't indescribably happy when you were with her and I can tell the depths of your depression now that you aren't with her now."

"You know nothing! You've never felt any of this bullshit that you're spouting. You're a freak even among us. Yeah, I know your secret and your defective body. Who are you to preach to me about this? You probably won't ever feel any of that besides the same anguish I feel so don't act so damn self-righteous. I'll give you this last opportunity to leave me the fuck alone for good before I decide to give you a damn beating." Mamoru breathes heavily from his tirade. Homura's face is flush. Mamoru knew how hard the "protector of the sekirei" had tried to hold onto this secret and knew it hit him right at home. Mamoru wears a smug grin and feels that he has won this round until Homura looks at him with a vicious look.

"Ok, number 66. I was trying to make you see the light but maybe the only way to make you understand is an old-fashioned beating. I, number 8, Homura, will be your opponent." Homura turns his side to Mamoru and sets his feet for the battle. Mamoru is all too eager to strip off his coat and pull the two halves of his bo staff from their holders on his lower back. He connects them, spins it between his hands for a short moment before preparing himself. He had heard rumors of the enormous strength of the sekirei that wields fire but had never seen it himself. It had been months since his last fight that actually tested his ability. This would be a very welcome challenge.

They stand apart from each other staring intently at each other waiting for someone to make the first move. A stillness engulfs the two with the moon shining brightly behind them casting a pale glow across the rooftop that will act as their battleground. Mamoru pushes hard off his back foot causing the section of roof just below his foot to spiderweb from the force as he propels himself towards Homura. He clears half the distance off the first step before needing to take a second. In a blink of an eye, Homura produces a fireball in the palm of his hand and flings it at Mamoru. Mamoru brings his staff up and slices it down the center. The two halves dissipate as he moves forward. He halts his movement the moment he notices Homura no longer stands before him. He more so feels Homura land behind him than hears his feet touch the ground. He spins violently to face Homura just in time to side-step out of the next fireball. Mamoru dashes at Homura again as fireball after fireball is sent his direction. He dodges left and right as the blazing spheres pass him by mere centimeters.
There is less than two meters of distance between the two now. Homura stands his ground defiantly producing fireballs with both hands and throwing them at Mamoru. The distance is less than half a meter now. Mamoru pushes hard off his right foot and lunges at Homura low to the ground jabbing his staff at his target. The next fireball grazes Mamoru's back singeing his shirt. Homura barely side-steps the attack. Mamoru jabs the end of his staff into the ground to stop his momentum, plants with his left foot and changes direction violently. Homura still hasn't quite recovered from his last dodge when Mamoru is on him. All he can do is step back and dodge the vicious swipes from Mamoru's bo staff. Mamoru slices through the air left and right desperately trying to land a blow anywhere on his opponent. With each swing Mamoru can feel himself losing his balance little by little and Homura regaining his composure. Mamoru cranks back his staff for another swing that takes too long to follow through and connect. Homura brings up his arm and catches it against his side clamping it in place. Mamoru tries to retract his staff but is unable to move it from Homura's grasp.

"Come now, Mamoru." Homura grips the staff with his other hand and fire engulfs the entire length of it. The fire burns Mamoru's hands and he releases his weapon immediately. "This is your strength. You can't tell me that you can't put up a better fight. Is it the alcohol? Or could I be right that the time away from your ashikabi has made you weaker?" Homura tosses aside the staff and takes his stance again. Mamoru grits his teeth, swears under his breath and dashes at Homura again.

Mamoru begins an onslaught of punches. Homura dodges some and blocks others as Mamoru's frustration begins to grow. Mamoru changes his strategy to have more finesse in his attacks than the more brutal shots he'd been trying to land. He adds kicks and more movement to his strategy but Homura is still able to block or dodge all of them. Homura uses Mamoru's uncharacteristically clumsy movements against him to create an opening. An opportunity presents itself and Homura exploits it. Mamoru's guard drops for a moment and his jaw is exposed. Homura throws a vicious elbow that connects squarely and knocks Mamoru back a couple steps. Homura closes the distance again and places his open palm against Mamoru's chest. Mamoru freezes for a moment and the two sekirei look each other in the eye. Fire gathers in the palm of Homura's hand and blast forth with enough force to send Mamoru flying back across the entire length of the roof. Mamoru skids to a stop still smoking from the blast.

Mamoru's body is wracked with pain and soreness. His shirt has been completely burned off and black burn scars are scattered about his chest. He tries to sit up but can barely move. He coughs up pure smoke from his lungs. He rolls over and desperately tries to push himself up. He gets as far as his hands and knees before his body becomes completely paralyzed. Two fingers press gently against the crest on his back just below his neck. He's not frozen from fear, he is truly paralyzed from the gentle touch. He takes a deep breath and waits for the incantation that will terminate him. But the words don't come. Instead Homura gives him another message.

"There was no way you were going to beat me tonight. Not in the state you're in right now. I had no intention of terminating you. I simply wanted to prove a point. You need her and she needs you, too. She's been in and out of the hospital and the doctors don't know what's wrong with her. I'm no expert but I think that you being there to see her would make a difference. But I've said what I wanted to and the rest is up to you." He removes his two fingers, walks to the edge of the roof, lingers for a moment, and drops off to the street. Mamoru attempts to push himself up again but falls back to the ground. He has no strength to stand or move whatsoever at this moment. He tries to stand again before deciding to sleep on the roof. Once the sun rises he finds the energy to stand and make it back to his hotel room where he sleeps for the next two days to recover from the fight and, for the first time in months, he dreams of his ashikabi.