"Grandpa, I'm home," Ivy voiced when she entered the small house. She shook her head, still a little dazed by her latest encounter. The house was dark as she walked forward through the short, narrow hall, only the blue light from the television shining from around the corner.

"Ivy, is that you?" the old man mumbled, glued to his chair and stuck in front of the TV. She saw him as she finished the length of the hall. Ahead of her was a sliding glass door. To her right, her grandpa sat just past the faded blue, floral couch partially covered in a sheet. On her left was the open archway to a very small kitchen, looping around to finish at a second archway only a couple meters from the first. An ancient desk sat between the two archways to the kitchen, its cover concealing all of the small trinkets her grandfather owned. She went and sat at the far end of the couch next to her grandfather, and set her bag down at her feet as she did so."Were you able to get it?" he croaked.

"Yeah," Ivy replied as she leaned over, opening her bag. She pulled the baggie out and dropped it on the beat-up wooden coffee table before her. Before she let go of the flimsy bag, she noticed a paper bag and pulled it out. She peeked in it and shared, "It looks like he sent a bottle of scotch, too." Ringo, the drug dealer, knew her grandfather from their time serving together in the military. Her grandfather had developed terrible arthritis, and would send his granddaughter to retrieve weed from the old bastard. Ivy never spoke of the way he harassed her to her grandfather—she didn't want him to worry about it or accumulate any more guilt. "Did you want some?" she asked.

Her grandfather finally glanced sideways, away from the TV, then promptly looked back. "Oh, I'll have some if you're having some," he answered. Ivy stood up and went to the small kitchen to retrieve a couple glasses. She poured two small amounts and returned to the living room, resuming her place. Once she set the drinks down, she went about taking apart the marijuana clumps and packing a pipe for her grandfather.

"Ok," she prefaced once she finished, holding the pipe up to her grandpa. He took it and placed it between his lips, shaking slightly. She then extended her arm to light it for him, cutting down on any activity that may aggravate his arthritis. Once he motioned he had it, she sat back, placing her feet up on the edge of the coffee table. With no other tasks, she focused her attention on the late-night crime and punishment show her grandfather had chosen.

"Are you going back home tonight?" her grandpa asked, the question accompanied by a cloud of smoke.

Ivy considered it for a second. "Probably not," she answered. The last time she had gone home this late, she had found her stepmother still awake at the table, seemingly staying up just to pass judgment on the teen. Her grandfather nodded understandingly. He was not particularly fond of his old son-in-law and his new wife.

"You know Ivy, you're 18, you don't have to live with those asses anymore," he voiced.

But where would I go? What would I do? she thought. "I'll make do until the end of high school," she replied. And that was the extent of their discussion. After about a half hour, Ivy pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, curling up right there, and fell asleep for the night.

Damn that girl, Ren thought to himself on his trot home. Even after seeing his other women, he was still pissed about Ivy not remembering him. He had earned a special spot in her memory, and yet she had eluded him of it. But as he walked, he wondered whether or not it was her fault. He was also hung up on what she had said when he awakened her. She had completely forgotten everything then, too. But why? Why would she forget so much? It certainly couldn't be anything he was doing, he had erased more memories than he could count and never had a problem before. What the hell is up with her?

Once he entered his house, he was again repulsed by the smell of human food. He let out a moan of dissatisfaction, then turned his attention to the kitchen. He saw the light was on. Of course, it's that annoying little sister of mine, he thought as he approached the room.

And there she was, caught up in cooking up another one of her little meals. "What the hell are you doing up?" he demanded. The first rays of sunshine would be peeking out right about now. This was about the time he usually arrived home, but she was always still sleeping.

"Big brother! I fell asleep studying for an exam and I didn't make Usui his lunch, so I had to get up early- Ow ow ow ow ow!" Karin cried as he interrupted her, twisting his knuckles into the sides of her head. She spun away. "Ren, you smell like sex!" she burst without thinking, holding her head.

He narrowed his eyes. "How the hell would you know what sex smells like?" he demanded.

She quickly turned away and tried to busy herself. "Um, well, you see, I wouldn't- hahahaha. I just, well I just was guessing-" she tried to answer through nervous laughter. Damn that kid Usui, Ren thought to himself. Then she had a comeback. "Hey! How can you accuse me? You're the one who smells like it!"

Ren smiled. "Of course. I see no problem with satisfying as many tasty women as I can in one night."

"Ew! Big brother Ren, you're horrible! How can you just use women like that?"

"I don't know, how can you just use that salmon like that?" he returned.

"Ren! Women aren't just food, they're people!" she began in protest.

Ren just turned away and started to walk towards his room. "Whatever," he interrupted. He was not in the mood to hear a lecture from his sister, who had no idea what she was even talking about, and he was already irritated enough as it was.

"Ren!" she cried after him. He turned back to glance over his shoulder. She was quiet for a moment. "Don't tell anybody, ok?" she pleaded.

"Hmpf." He turned away. "As if I'd want to talk to anybody about my little sister's sex life," he scoffed before he walked off. God, women are exhausting. And just like that, his mind was back on that girl. He smiled with a thought, Now there's a woman I wouldn't mind using over, and over again. With that thought, he was overcome by his desire to have her again. It seems as though I will be going on a hunt tomorrow, he mused to himself.