Chapter 9: Love is Greed

Cross was parked across the street from her apartment complex. He had the same car as before, a sleek, black Mercedes-Benz with tinted windows and an air of "I'm rich and therefore belong at Columbia" that made Iris all the more annoyed with his lack of discretion. There was always someone up in New York, regardless of what ungodly time of night it was, so Iris made her way to the passenger side quickly and efficiently.

"Took you long enough," came Cross's voice as she slipped onto the thankfully heated leather of the passenger seat.

"It is three in the morning," she hissed. "You're here in your fancy-ass car and you don't think for a second that someone would recognize you?"

"No one can see us, Iris," he said. He wasn't even looking at her. His glasses glinted in the reflection of his cell phone screen as he took a long inhale of his cigarette and scrolled through the screen. "Don't worry so much."

"This could wait until tomorrow," she said. "There's nothing urgent going on—you didn't have to come all the way over here and make me come downstairs and—"

"I wanted to see you," Cross said simply. "I wanted to talk to you, honestly."

"There's nothing for us to talk about, Cross. And again, even if we had to talk, it could've been at a normal time—"

"I couldn't sleep tonight. I was listening to your old voicemails."

He pressed something on his phone screen, and Iris listened with impending dread as her own voice echoed in the car.

"Cross. I don't know how many messages I've left at this point," she heard herself say, and her stomach flipped at the weak, shaky, obvious crying that her voice held. "I know you're getting them. And…you're ignoring me, for whatever reason. I don't know what I did, and I'm sorry if I pissed you off, but the least we could do is…talk, at least resolve things. You disappeared without even saying goodbye. I…I just want to know. What am I to you? Is this…is this something real to you? Because it is to me, and we just went through hell with the administration to hide it and defend it and now that it's closed, you're not even here. Just…just call me back, Cross. So we can talk."

The voicemail ended there. Iris wanted to throw up—she felt completely overwhelmed with too many emotions: regret, fear, shame, disgust, and also the vestiges of that uncontrollable desperation and longing remaining in that message. Cross didn't say anything. He put out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray on his dashboard and just turned from his screen to look at her.

Without another word, Iris turned to open the door.

"Wait, Iris."

The door wouldn't open; Cross had clicked the lock button on his side of the car. Infuriated that he would obstruct her exit, Iris gritted her teeth and fumbled with the physical lock, trying to yank it open only to have Cross thwart her by repeatedly pressing his button.

"Let me out," she said, shaking.

"Iris, we can talk now."

"Now?!" she almost shrieked. "You think—everything is at your convenience! Now's a good time for you, so we can talk now! For fuck's sake, Cross, you left and somehow I was the one who apologized! How do you not see how messed up that was?"

"I know it's fucked up," he said, and his voice was almost soothing. "Iris, I know, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't pick up, I didn't call back, I just thought it'd be for the best. The whole investigation made me second-guess us. I didn't want to give them any reason to bar you from graduation or your future career choices. I thought you were better without me."

Iris was still fumbling with the lock, but it was a half-hearted effort now because she was focusing more on trying to even out her breathing and blink out the sting in her eyes because she would never forgive herself if Cross saw her cry.

"I wouldn't have come back," he continued, "before your graduation were it not for this case. But believe me when I say that I had every intention of finding you after you finished here at Columbia. I kept tabs. Made sure to know where you were applying—and I know you've applied to law schools, Iris, even though you told me you didn't. I know people in admissions everywhere. And I was going to follow you, wherever you decided. I didn't mean to abandon you, Iris. I just needed you to be independent."

She felt him touch her shoulder and jerked away from him.

"Don't touch me," she said harshly. "You have no right—no right for anything to do with me. You…I gave you everything. You knew how impossible it was for me to let you in and you still left me like nothing. You knew me in a way no one ever did."

"…I still know you, Iris."

She turned to him, her breathing shaky but her gaze fierce.

"What do you want, Cross? All that shit about coming to find me after graduation—you're still here, aren't you? What do you want right now?"

"I want you," he said simply.

"On the case," she clarified.

"Yes. But I also just want you."

She felt her heart stutter out of rhythm. Cross was looking at her with as much sincerity as she had ever seen him but that was the thing—she did not know if Cross was capable of being sincere, if he was anything at all besides manipulative and cunning.

He leaned forward, his hand brushing her cheek. Iris wanted to press into his touch. Wanted him to kiss her, to taste that familiar smoky taste and feel the trace of his stubble scratch her chin. Wanted him to push her into the backseat and do the things they'd done before, because yes, she had good memories in this car, and she was sure he hadn't forgotten.

But what Iris wanted and what she had control over were two different things, and that was why she was who she was: mistress of self-control and denial of all things pleasurable in light of what she needed to accomplish.

She pushed his hand away.

"No," she said. "You can't have me."

Cross let out a breath.

"On the case? Or in general?"

"Both."

"Even if Kanda decides to testify?"

"I'll do what Kanda wants me to do."

Cross made a noise of disgust. "Seriously, of all people to dictate your actions…"

"It's my choice," she said in a steely tone. "I am invested in Kanda, and Kanda alone. I don't give a shit about you or the rest of the case."

"I want you to meet the other witness."

"So that I can give a shit about them?" she said disbelievingly. "Do you know me at all? I thought we got along because we both hate everyone, and if you think some sob story is going to convince me—"

"I want you to meet him because he's my nephew."

Iris went silent for several seconds.

"He's your what?!"

"Nephew," said Cross through gritted teeth, and Iris could tell this was real emotion now, though what it was exactly, she couldn't decipher.

"You've…never mentioned you had family."

"Mostly don't," Cross grunted as he reached across her to the glove compartment, where he pulled out a cigar. Clearly, talking about personal matters stressed him. "Brother of mine. I hadn't been in touch with him over a decade. Turns out he died in some car crash, drug overdose, something. Had a son, went into foster care…"

"Ended up with Carlton," said Iris, stunned. "How did you find him?"

"When I left last year," he said quietly, "I wasn't in the best state of mind. So I wanted to reach out to family. One thing led to another…Allen was technically still registered to be in Carlton's care but he'd somehow escaped and was working illegally in some circus troupe."

"Circus?"

"We were all the way out in California," Cross said with a wave of his hand. "They do weird shit out there. It took some time for him to tell me everything, but he's in my care now. This is personal for me, and you know how I am when I find targets."

She did. Cross was a frightening force when he was fixated on a goal, and almost never did he fail to achieve that goal.

"I intend to take Carlton down, with or without you, Iris. I've just always preferred when you are with me."

For a man who hated mixing his own life with anything professional, the picture of this trial was quickly becoming muddled. And if it was personal for Cross, it was becoming increasingly clear why he had been adamant for Iris to join.

"You want me to join because I'm not invested," she said slowly. "You think…I could rein you in."

Cross nodded as he blew out a puff of smoke. Iris wrinkled her nose—it smelled terrible. He grinned at her expression and opened his window a crack to help with ventilation.

"I figured between me and Tyki, you'd be used to the smoke. Your expression shows otherwise though."

"It's gross."

"Mm. Ironic, isn't it? For as much as you're worried about me controlling you…I want you on the case so you can control me."

The thought of anyone controlling Cross was laughable, but Iris knew what he meant. He was a stubborn, ruthless man, but Iris was one of the few he admitted could sway him. The times she'd won an argument were few and far between, but when push came to shove, Iris could win. It was just a matter of how much she wanted to.

"It's different now," she said. "I'm not neutral. I have Kanda to think of."

"Why would that be mutually exclusive?"

"Because even if we have the same goal, we have different approaches," she said sharply. "I understand if Kanda doesn't want to testify. You have a shaky case with few witnesses and even fewer details. Why make Kanda go through the past when I can barely get him to think about the future?"

"You don't think I can win."

"I don't have enough information."

"Which is why I want you to meet with Allen. Just hear what he has to say, and then make your decision. And I mean your decision, Iris, not Kanda's. I wanted you on this case long before I knew about Kanda. It's a good opportunity for you."

"This isn't a matter of me getting ahead, for once," she said dryly. "I'm confident in my law school acceptances and—"

"Please, Iris."

Iris felt a lump lodge in her throat. She couldn't tell. She truly could not tell if Cross was manipulating her or not. How much of this was real? How much was flattery? How was it that all that undeniable anger and hatred that had taken what seemed like a lifetime to get over could be sidestepped with only a few minutes of conversation?

"I need you this time," said Cross, his voice low, almost a whisper. "Not the other way around."

Fuck it all.

"I'll meet with him," she said quietly. "That's it. No guarantees."

Cross smiled and it made Iris ache. He was being real.

"Thank you."

She needed to get out before it got out of hand.

"I'm going to go to bed."

"Sweet dreams."

She stepped out of the car, welcoming the biting frost as she straightened up on the sidewalk. She crossed the street and headed back inside her complex's building without looking back. She did not hear the Mercedes pull out and drive away, which meant that Cross was watching her leave, and she tried not to dwell on the fact that after everything, he'd gotten exactly what he'd come for.


Finals were finally wrapping up and Kanda had never been more thankful for a break. Truthfully, the end of the academic year hadn't been horrendous given Iris's help, but the relief was clearly shared by his roommate as well. She'd pulled several all-nighters over the last week and when she came back to the apartment on the final day, having finally turned in her last paper, she looked exhausted.

"Kanda," she whined, "I'm so tired."

"Your fault for taking so many classes," he said as he absentmindedly flipped through the television channels. "What senior works as hard as you?"

"It wouldn't have been that bad," she grumbled, plopping down on the sofa next to him, "if I pretty much wasn't doing all your work too. You owe me."

Kanda shrugged. "I didn't make you do it. The thought of me failing scares you more than me."

Iris groaned. "What do you think would happen if you failed out of Columbia, Kanda?"

"I'd go to community college."

She looked at him curiously. "Not NYU?"

"It's not like NYU is easy either," said Kanda acidly.

"Mm," she agreed, "I know. But Lenalee's there—at least you'd have a friend."

"Still not worth it."

"Why?"

Kanda looked at her, irritated. "You talk too much."

"I've barely talked to you for the last week," she said indignantly.

"No wonder last week was so good."

"Asshole," she snipped, grabbing the remote from him. "Fine, personal stuff, I get it. You don't want to talk about it."

Kanda let out a breath. He knew Iris was annoyed already, which would have been surprising had it not been for her lack of sleep that therefore shortened her fuse considerably. He wasn't obligated to tell her anything, but like Iris had pointed out, he owed her—for doing his work and a hell lot more—and therefore Kanda was to make do.

"One of my classes at NYU was about current law practices in New York," he said shortly. "Someone profiled Carlton. Got too close to stuff for me. So I transferred."

Iris stared at him. "Why the hell did you come to New York for college in the first place if Carlton was here?"

"Lenalee and Lavi were both here," Kanda snapped. "I hate everyone else but I figured I might as well be in the same place as them if I had to do college at all. Plus—"

"Sorry," Iris interjected. "It's not your fault. You should have free choice to go wherever you want—Carlton shouldn't be limiting you like that. I'm sorry for saying that."

"It's not a big deal."

"No, it is," she said. "That was a stupid thing for me to say."

"…It's fine."

Iris let out a groan and leaned her head on his shoulder as she finally selected the news. Kanda did not stiffen up to the contact like he normally did. Instead, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to control the initial repugnance that usually came with physical contact. This was Iris. He was familiar with her. She looked quite pretty today, despite being so tired. He liked her outfit: a loose cream-colored sweater and leggings with a checkered red scarf. She looked casual and comfortable and festive. She was small, her weight light against him. The disgust slowly wilted and Kanda remembered what it'd been like to kiss her, undress her, touch her unabashedly.

A now familiar urge began to grow and Kanda relaxed in it. He opened his eyes and brought his arm around Iris's shoulder, holding her firmly against him.

It was Iris who was startled now.

"What?" he said curtly. "Something wrong?"

"No," she said, smiling slightly. "Your phobia cured now?"

"No. Just. Better with you."

Her grin widened and she linked her arms around his chest like she was koala hugging a tree.

"You say the sweetest things sometimes," she said cheerily, as if that statement wasn't enough to embarrass Kanda to the ends of the earth.

"Fuck off, woman."

"Nope. Wanna make out?"

Kanda arched an eyebrow. "I thought you were gonna nap."

"Nap?" she gasped mockingly. "When we finally have free time and you look extra gorgeous today? I'd much rather play with you."

"How the fuck do I look extra gorgeous today?" he scowled.

Iris laughed as she straightened up and kissed him on the cheek. "Are you fishing for compliments?"

"Fuck, no, it was a rhetorical question."

"I'll answer it anyway. I like it when you wear V-neck sweaters. And you look really hot in black."

"I'm never going to wear this sweater again."

"No, it looks so good!"

She brought one hand up to rest on his chest, right over his heartbeat. He wished it wasn't thrumming so quickly—not that it mattered, because despite having heard that he was pretty and beautiful and hot for the entirety of his life, something about Iris's unapologetic compliments made him flush awkwardly.

Iris grinned, as if she knew just how uncomfortable he was.

"Kanda?" she said, her voice practically a purr. She fiddled with the collar of his V-neck sweater, her fingers brushing the skin over his collarbones.

"What?" he said, straining to stay composed.

"Can I sit on your lap?"

"What the—why?"

"So we can make out," she said seriously.

Was this how all people did things? Ask explicitly, wait for permission? Kanda thought back to their make-out session after that terrible conversation with Cross and Tiedoll—he hadn't asked a thing, had just grabbed her and kissed her and pushed her onto the table because his imagination had been going a mile a minute and he could hardly get his body to keep up.

Iris was being considerate—she didn't want him to freak out like before and she was observing boundaries. But Kanda could see in her eyes that her mind had already undressed him and was doing unspeakable things; Kanda barely stifled a groan because his imagination was also going down the gutter rapidly.

He grabbed her by her waist and hauled her onto his lap. Without any delay, he kissed her and repositioned his hands, the left at the back of her neck so he could control the kiss, and the right sliding around her ass to find the edge of her sweater.

Iris kissed him back, her breaths already heavy and her hands similarly busy to find a place to touch his bare skin. She won that race, impatiently tugging his shirt upward and running both hands down his stomach. She made a satisfied little noise, like she had found something she truly appreciated, and continued to caress the ridge of each muscle. When one hand traveled a bit more south than she'd endeavored before, though, Kanda stiffened slightly and instinctively grabbed her ass hard.

"Holy shit," Iris gasped against his mouth.

"Sorry," he said quickly, "I was just surprised—"

"No," she breathed, her expression close to what he imagined the Cheshire Cat looked like, "I liked it. Just didn't expect it from you."

Well, that was interesting. Kanda brought both hands down to the round of her bottom and cupped it; Iris moaned into his neck and grinded against him, causing him to hiss.

"Two can play at this game, Kanda," she said mischievously. "I want to figure out what you like, too." She kissed him on the nose. "Can I give you a hand-job?"

Kanda could feel his entire face heat up, and Iris laughed at the sight of his face becoming scarlet.

"No?" she guessed, kissing him now on the side of his lips. "I want to. Hand job, blow job, whatever you're comfortable with."

"I…"

"You wanted to actually have sex the other day," she reminded him. "We can do that, too."

"It's different," he muttered, resting his forehead on her shoulder. "Back then, I just went with whatever I wanted. But when you ask, it just becomes…"

"Awkward?" she offered. "Yeah, I know you think it kills the mood but I want to make sure you're okay. The last thing I want to see is you having a panic attack again."

The tone of her voice was now serious, making Kanda look up at her. His hands continued to rest on the round of her bottom, but the mood for fun activities had passed, and not because Iris had asked permission. Iris sounded genuinely concerned and something told Kanda it wasn't just about his previous episode.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Iris sighed and rolled off of him, but propped her legs over his lap.

"You're getting better," she remarked. "Reading me."

"I should hope so," he said dryly. "I've lived with you for half a year."

"I lived with Renee for three years and the girl still has no idea what I'm like."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised."

Iris smirked at his response. She looked almost proud.

"So what's going on?"

"We need to talk about the case," Iris said, exhaling. "Cross wants me to meet the other witness. I told him I would."

Kanda narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I'm terrible at telling him no," she said, her voice sounding small. It was the first time she'd ever sounded so unsure of herself, and it made Kanda angry and terrified all at once.

"Telling Cross Marian 'no' is the easiest fucking thing," he said irritably. "All you have to do is not give a shit what his pretentious ass thinks or wants."

"Easy for you to say," she said, leaning the side of her head against the couch. "You don't give a shit about what anyone thinks."

"Don't change the subject to me," he said warningly.

Iris scoffed. "You really are getting better. Fine, Kanda. I still care what he thinks about me. I know it's stupid and pathetic. But it is what it is. I haven't met with the other witness yet—I just wanted to let you know."

"And? What're you gonna do after you meet them?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I was hoping you'd tell me. Is this something you want to be involved with? Do you think…" Her voice trailed off as she surveyed him carefully. "Do you think you can handle it?"

"I'm not made of glass," he said sourly.

"You know what I'm talking about, Kanda. This is gonna bring up a lot of bad memories, and there's no guarantee for victory. You may even have to see Carlton in person again. I just don't want you to go through all of that and come out of it worse than when you started." Iris stretched her hand out and laid it over one of his. "I get that not caring about anything is also the safest."

Kanda was quiet, rubbing his thumb over the surface of Iris's hand. If he'd had a choice, he would've never wanted to think about Carlton again for the rest of his life. But Kanda couldn't deny that running away had never been his forte; Carlton was a problem, and as much as Kanda hated caring about anyone else, the thought of Carlton continuing to hurt others was sickening.

"He deserves jail and so much worse," Kanda said.

"I know," Iris said softly.

There was another pause. Iris squeezed his hand, her touch comforting.

"Meet with the other witness," Kanda said. "See what you think. We'll talk after."

He felt unstable, uncertain. Things were progressing so quickly that Kanda felt out of control, and it made him nauseous. Iris nodded once and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Kanda turned and met her mouth with his, the contact warm and gentle. Iris brought her hands around his body, her message clear.

I got you. Fall, and I'll catch you. Trust me.


The other witness was named Allen Walker. Through brief texts with Cross, Iris organized a meeting with Allen at hipster café in Brooklyn, about which Tyki said, "A bunch of weirdoes go there, that's super sketchy."

"I'm seriously going to be fine," Iris said when Tyki showed up to the café minutes before she was supposed to meet Allen. The older man was thankfully dressed casually, because his normal Armani suits would have attracted some ugly stares from the grungy, clearly anti-Wall Street crowd.

"I don't trust Cross and it bothers me that he's coordinated this without even showing up himself," Tyki said shortly. "Plus this place is sketchy as fuck. I don't know what mind games he's playing but everything's just to get you on his side, and hell will freeze before I let that happen easily."

"It really depends on Kanda, Tyki."

"Yeah, well I have a few words for him, too," he answered thinly.

Tyki had obviously taken the break-up with Iris well, much better than Iris herself had, but Kanda's involvement in the case and the consequent constant presence of Cross Marian in their lives was something Tyki clearly begrudged Kanda for. Iris had been sparing in the details of how Kanda was involved in the Carlton case, but Tyki had seen Kanda in his worst moments enough to piece the story together.

"Play nice, love," she said dryly.

"I will," Tyki sighed. "I'll be in a corner booth. Scream if you need anything."

"That'll really go well with this café's atmosphere."

Tyki shot her a cheeky grin and disappeared around the corner. Iris drank her coffee and bit into a muffin delicately. She did not know what Allen looked like, but Cross had apparently given him her picture (which one, she did not ask) and so she assumed he would find her.

She did not wait long. Promptly at the appointed time, a soft voice said behind her,

"Excuse me, are you Miss Iris Fairing?"

Iris turned around, her most benign and award-winning smile already in place, and froze.

Allen Walker was teenage boy with an affable expression on his face. He was dressed warmly in a black hoodie and slightly ripped jeans, with a dark scarf wrapped around his neck. A beanie was tucked snugly over his white hair.

Allen Walker was a teenage boy with white hair. He looked quite kind, but it did not detract from the fact that Allen Walker was a teenage boy with white hair and also a face tattoo.

Iris now understood why Cross needed Kanda's testimony.

"Sorry, wrong person?" Allen said anxiously, his tone contrasting from the intense pentagram inked over his left forehead with lines connecting to it trailing down to his left cheek.

"No," blinked Iris, smiling generously. "I'm sorry, I'm Iris. I was just surprised. You're a lot younger than I thought."

"Really?" Allen grinned. "Or was it the tattoo that took you by surprise?"

"It was a bit of a shock," she admitted as he took a seat across from her. "Can you tell me how you got it?"

"It's a long story," the boy said apologetically.

"Is it a story related to what I need to know?" Iris said, drinking her coffee but not breaking eye contact with him.

She needed to know how much she could push him. Allen seemed sweet, but a face tattoo indicated that his sugary exterior was just a façade.

Allen smiled. "Maybe when we know each other a little bit better."

He was cautious and that meant he was smart. He was not reactionary like Kanda was, but that also meant Iris had to be careful.

"So," Allen said, "my uncle tells me you're a student of his?"

"Previous," she said. "He's a brilliant man, your uncle."

"He is. He's also a total jackass," Allen said, his smile completely unchanged.

Iris laughed. "Okay, then. No need to mince words then. What has Cross told you about this meeting?"

"He said you're an old student he wants to work on the Carlton case. He told to paint a sob story so I could convince you to do that. And that's about it."

"Anything else about the case?" Iris said carefully.

"Something about another witness," Allen said casually. "Said you know the other witness, so if you join the case, you can get him to testify too."

"Both of those statements are false. Cross only hears what he wants to hear, as I'm sure you've noticed," Iris said.

"That's for sure. He tends to get it anyway, though."

Iris ignored this fact. "So what's your sob story, Allen?"

"I was supposed to go into gruesome detail about what happened with Carlton," he answered easily. "I don't really feel like doing that, though. Doesn't seem really fair to you."

Iris arched an eyebrow. "That's an interesting way to put it. Why do you care if it's fair to me?"

"It seems like a lot of dark shit to dump onto a stranger," he replied cheerily. "It's not your responsibility to care."

Iris found herself smiling. This was dangerous—she was starting to like Allen.

"Do you want this case to happen?" she asked. "Do you want to testify?"

For the first time since he'd sat down, Allen's expression changed. His eyes hardened, determined, and he nodded.

"Of course. I think justice needs to be served, not just for me, but for everyone he's hurt."

Iris did not answer immediately. She drank her coffee and pushed another muffin she'd bought over to Allen.

"Pastry?"

Allen's eyes immediately lit up. "Oh, thanks!"

She watched him devour it furiously, slightly amazed at the sight of crumbs flying everywhere as the muffin disappeared. Allen looked truly happy while eating; it reminded her that he was just a teenager.

"What's the other guy like?" Allen asked, voice muffled by chocolate chip muffin.

"Very different from you," Iris said. "Polar opposites, actually."

She did not know what Cross was thinking. This case was going to be difficult, even if Kanda decided to testify. Both Allen and Kanda had coped with their traumas in different ways, but neither of them played into the picture of victimization that she was certain Cross wanted to convince a jury. Allen was refusing to victimize himself even to her, and Kanda had always hated pity.

"Do you know him? Do you think he'll testify?"

"I don't know. It's his decision." Iris tapped her fingers methodically on the rough wooden surface in front of her.

"Can I meet him?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," she said with a wry smile. "I have a feeling you two will butt heads."

"Really? I get along with mostly everyone," Allen said cheerfully.

"And he mostly doesn't."

"Oh, okay. Well, I guess I came here to convince you to help, Miss Fairing."

"Please, just Iris," she shuddered. "I'm only a couple years older than you."

"Okay, Iris. Do you think you'll help?"

"I think I need a little more information, like how you ended up in Carlton's care, what happened…some of the evidence."

"I don't think I can tell you that," Allen said apologetically.

"Why?" she said suspiciously. "You were told to give me a sob story."

Allen scratched his head. "Yeah, I just don't feel comfortable telling you that. Plus, it seems like you'd only join if you think you can win."

"Of course that's what I'm doing," she said coolly. "What idiot jumps on a sinking ship to save people, only to drown themselves?"

"Yeah, that'd be me," he said, looking somewhat abashed. "Look, I get that this case is gonna be hard. Cross has made that pretty clear. But I want to testify even if I have a close to zero percent chance of winning because it's the right thing to do. But that doesn't make talking about it any easier, and I don't want to talk about it with someone who'll just think it's not strong enough evidence and leave." Allen looked at her directly, his gaze almost accusatory. "No offense."

"That's a weak afterthought," she scoffed. "Don't mince your words, Allen."

"Fine. Offense."

"It's brave of you to think all those things," Iris said. "Not everyone has that same train of thought, though. Justice is obviously something we're all striving for, but in this world, that's less important than winning. The two aren't the same. You know Cross—winning is the only thing that matters when he's in court. Who cares what's true or false, what's right or what's wrong? The verdict is all that matters."

She took a breath and leaned forward. Allen looked at her warily, instinctively pressing backward against the back of his seat as if trying to escape her gaze.

"The path to the end isn't easy," she said quietly. "I need to make sure that whatever lies at the end of the road will be worth the struggle."

"For you? Or for the other guy?"

Iris bared a little smile. "Cross has been talking, hasn't he? For both of us, Allen." She leaned back in her seat. "You two really aren't going to get along. Very different mentalities about this whole thing."

"I don't blame him," Allen said quickly. "I'm not judging, it's just my personal belief. I think Carlton deserves to go to hell and more."

"Yeah, that's what we all believe." Iris finished the rest of her rapidly cooling coffee. "If you won't give me any more information then, do you have any questions for me?"

"Will you help?" he said hopefully.

"Still thinking about it."

"What do you think our chances are?"

"Low," she said bluntly. "Even with the other guy."

Allen nodded. "Okay. Well, Cross has only said good things about you, and he never compliments people so that inspires confidence."

"Cross is a piece of shit and you should be careful of him," muttered Iris.

Allen's eyes glittered. "That makes me even more inspired."

Iris laughed. "Are you staying with him?"

"Yeah, he's got a fancy apartment up on the Upper East Side. He makes me run out and do errands for him as rent."

"He really is a piece of work," she murmured. "It was good to meet you, Allen. I think we'll be seeing each other again."

"Yep," Allen agreed, standing up to leave. "Can I get your phone number? Even if this whole thing doesn't pan out, I don't know anyone in the city. It'd be nice to have friends."

"Oh, definitely." She dialed her number into Allen's phone. "Just shoot me a text whenever. Are you in school?"

"Nah, not at the moment. I was technically a senior but obviously school hasn't been that important recently."

Iris frowned. "We'll have to get doing something then. There's a high school tutoring program I'm a part of—at the least you can have some educational materials."

"That's not really what I was going for when I said I wanted friends…"

"Well I sure as hell don't hang out with a face-tattoed crowd," she said acidly.

"That's rude," he glowered.

"No judgment, just honest," she said, hands raised. "But seriously, I'm done with finals and can take you around the city if you want."

"That'd be great!"

Allen bade her farewell after they scheduled a tentative tour of New York City for next week, provided that the cold was not intolerable. As Iris watched Allen's short profile disappear, she let out a breath. Tyki appeared next to her moments later.

"He's adorable," Tyki whispered.

"He's illegal," she said in the same tone as she stood up and put on her coat. "Don't be pedophilic and creepy, Tyki."

"I didn't say anything," he said defensively. "I was just stating a fact."

"He really is someone who grows quickly on you," she admitted. "Good kid. Carlton's a piece of shit."

Tyki looked at her, concerned. "Careful, Iris."

"I know," she sighed. "Can't get attached."

"You thinking of taking Cross's offer?"

"I'm starting to want to," she said honestly as they walked out of the café together. "It sucks, I really shouldn't. It's Kanda's decision."

The winter air was biting and the wind was relentless. Rare snowflakes blew past them rapidly, and Tyki placed an arm around Iris's body to guide her through the gales.

"It's yours too, as much as I disapprove."

"You disapprove of Cross. There's a bigger picture here."

They rounded a corner and Iris spotted Tyki's care parked tightly at the end of the street.

"I know," he said patiently. "But I don't care about any of the parties involved except for you."

"Wish I could say the same."

Tyki beeped open the doors to his car and they both scrambled inside, relieved to be out of the cold.

"You and Kanda getting serious then?" he asked. The engine revved to life and Tyki turned on the seat warmers.

"No idea," she said. "He's easing up around me. I wouldn't call it more than that."

"You still haven't fucked?"

"Nope," she grimaced. "I'm getting antsy."

"I can imagine," Tyki grinned. "Ah, the things that boy has made you give up."

She settled into the car and their conversation changed directions; she missed Tyki and his levelheadedness, the safety and comfort he represented. It wasn't just the sex that Kanda had made her give up. She'd lost a constant companion, someone who could safeguard her emotions and whom she could count on never to betray them.

Kanda was different. Kanda made her care more about him without the guarantee of those feelings being reciprocated. If Kanda weren't in the picture, Iris likely would've accepted the job with Cross already—regardless of the results, working with a high profile lawyer like Cross on such a contentious case could only pave the way to a successful law career. But Kanda was in the picture, and she had to consider his feelings—and that was what Kanda had truly made her give up.

Iris was starting to care, and she did not know if Kanda would be there to catch her when she needed it.