Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Hunter D or the Frontier or any items therein; he's the sole creation of two people, Hideyuki Kikuchi and that Amano guy, really cool guys who I'd like to meet.. someday. And I don't own any of the lyrics or lines I happen to randomly post, but I will post the band and song name, book and author...

Read. Be brutal, be kind, be whatever you wish.

Miranda took her medication without argument. She sighed as D worried over her in his own brooding and quiescent way, until finally she had no choice but to raise her voice at him. He left immediately, with a non-argumentative "If you wish it" at her strong expression to be left the hell alone, and that had its own effect on her emotional state. She didn't want to be left alone all day, which is what she felt he was going to do now that she'd unleashed her temper just once.

She was so not a morning person.

And the prospect of some kind of party: she wasn't certain of her feelings toward it. Whenever she had a moment to actually think about the past few days, she started to feel as if her eyes would melt from the built up saline. To completely top off her turbulent state of mind, there was at last the fact that somewhere she kept hearing people say her name. It was a silent, quiet murmur, the exact number of syllables, the tone of the voice. As if it was speaking to her, and only her.

Eventually she left the house with her belongings prepared and packed, ready to leave. The course brown of her bag caught her attention for a moment, and for a moment it only served to remind her how long she'd been following the demon that had done her such a disfavor. (That smarted of understatement, but she was so tired of thinking about it in terms of hatred.)

The bag was worn with holes, repairs, and had numerous patches of cloth sewn on from a dozen different towns. She carried anything in this thing: food, medicines, tools. It had seen her through time-spattered battles, desert, and the rain of the storm that was still raging outside of the valley's mountainous walls. What sort of stories would it tell her ten more years from now? What would it have to say when her body expired, and her soul was released into that blur of the unknown, where spirits of the dead could rest?

Nothing, said the voice that had been calling. Because your life is nothing but meaningless. A flickering gas light in the ebb and flow of time. You could have had so much more. Maybe it's not too late.

"Be quiet," Miranda bit out through clenched teeth. She shouldered the old brown bag, then decided to set it down again. She didn't remember why she was picking it up anyway.

Oh, yeah.

D was outside in the shade of the large stone-and-oak townhouse where the late celebration was going to take place. There were streamers left over, apparently from the last celebration that they'd missed. It felt like years ago. He was almost invisible against the dark, well-worn wood that looked centuries old. The hefty pouch of money at his belt was proof enough that he'd already taken care of that part of his business. Seeing him again made her cheeks cold with guilt and elation. She did not, however, have it in her heart to hug him in apology. Instead, she approached and bowed her head, eyes quivering.

She whispered, "I'm sorry."

"It's perfectly okay."

"Will you... still be going?"

"To the little festival?"

"Sure." Miranda lifted her eyes, shrugging a little. "I haven't seen Mouka use fire without the intention to hurt somebody with it."

"Then we'll go together. How's that?" D looked up from under the brim of his hat. In the hazy sunlight, his eyes once again were a shocking blue. They captivated her. She saw swirling in their cool depths the sort of passionate fervor that made him stay with her last night.

"I'm glad." With a half-smile on her lips, she stepped closer to him, reaching to poke at his belly, which elicited a tiny twitch response. "And one more thing?"

Pure bewilderment flickered through his cold eyes. "Yes?"

"One dance!" Miranda spun away on her heel and walked off around the corner of the large townhouse that was wavering in the heat of the day.

The huntress looked over her shoulder. "You owe me one dance, Hunter. I want to see you move and let loose. If you can do that... then maybe I can get over everything that's happened."

"Will that really help you?" D did not sound largely convinced.

"Perhaps. No. Definitely." She brushed her hands over her hair and offered at once just a tiny, small smile, just for herself and no one else, because her back was facing him. He could feel her eyes traveling the width of her shoulders, as if willing her to turn around.

It was a good day, even if the storm pushed forward past the mountains and made it drizzle half-heartedly as she rode through the fields again. The words of the vampire phantom, the one who called himself a Delaclair, rang like a clarion in her mind, demanding her attention and detective scrutiny. She had no idea her family's history went back so far; so... darkly. Then again, nobody talked about the ugly secrets of anyone's family, especially when it concerned the Nobles. She couldn't help feeling even more cut off from her own reality, the one she had believed in for so long.

She walked as if in a dream. Her vision blurred constantly, but she felt physically fine. Is it the medicine? A reaction?

The facts remained, she insisted to herself, trying to stave off whatever dizziness was still trying to overcome her. Her family was dead, and the ones who were still alive would never accept her again as far as she could piece it together.

She rode her own horse past the huge gap in the field of corn that D had cut when he went looking for her; it looked like a child who lost most of its teeth. The soft song in her mind was like a hymn, distant and far away. She wished she could find the church it was coming from. The song was so quiet, in a language she couldn't pick apart. She had known two languages other than her own in her life, and had used them both at least once in her journeys... but this one seemed made of all of them at once.

What was it?

Troubled, she turned about face and returned to Coel Town.

The day spun itself out, as the birds called their last good-byes and flew in to settle for the evening. D had no idea where Miranda had gone, but that strangely didn't bother him. She wanted to be alone right now; it was her prerogative. Perhaps being around him reminded her a little too much of her tragedy. So he stayed away, distanced and alone and finding himself happily back within his comfort zone. It was a shameful relief.

He thought it would be safer to leave her be anyway rather than stalk her and treat her like a broken porcelain doll. She was anything but, besides.

He was reading beneath the shade of a tree reading one of the books from Venson's library, only to find himself interrupted.

"Hey."

The fire magician gave a grin, albeit a shy one, with the small white scars around his mouth wrinkling a bit. D's eyes lifted. His hat was set beside him in the grass, which allowed for his dark hair to spill freely over his shoulders and slightly over his eyes. Mouka was slightly taken aback by the beauty of such a face, peering with clear and unremorseful impatience behind a veil of hair as dark as midnight but clearly brown. A face that was strong, slightly angular but never feminine. It was the perfect visage. It had its imperfections, but they seemed so well blended, Mouka couldn't find any of them.

He cleared his throat at Mouka, and the younger man decided he ought to speak or leave.

"Have you seen Miranda?" he managed, his voice crackling.

"Not since this morning." It was none of his business why Mouka would be searching for her. But he was still damn curious about it.

That curiosity peaked when Mouka blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his arms. "Alright. Thanks."

"Wait."

"Huh?" Mouka had just turned to walk away, but froze as if caught by a web. "What?"

"Good luck tonight, if you are performing."

"Oh, I am." Mouka grinned broadly again, quickly taking up the ease with which his own subject came up. He relaxed, leaning against the tree next to the quiet hunter. "Trained up a couple of young ladies to perform with me. They're quick. I just hope it doesn't rain like it did tonight."

"Doesn't smell like it will."

"Yeah, you're right!" Mouka deep breath and sighed, sliding down onto the ground. "Smells like providence, Hunter. Gonna take Miranda on a date, aren't you?" He said this with what he hoped was a convincing between-boys tone of a voice.

"I suppose so."

Mouka couldn't say anything to that. He nodded, before he flipped up onto his feet, rolled into a back flip and bounced back a step upon landing on his light feet. "Take her to watch my show. Everyone'll be there. Can't miss it, Hunter!" And then he was gone.

It was dark in the valley long before the sun had truly set. Near the storm-choked mountaintops, the azure sky had taken on a yellow, misty hue before that too darkened to a deep black. It was still light outside when Miranda found D under the same tree, his hat on his head and covering his eyes. She smiled, clicked her tongue before she crouched down by his feet, and shook his boot gently.

"D."

"I know. I'm awake."

"Did you stay out here all day?"

"I was tired."

"I thought you said you were awake." Miranda made a playfully disgusted sound before rising. When D looked up again, he was struck with dumb silence.

Miranda was dressed in a flowing, forest green off-the-shoulder dress, her dark hair plaited and then twined into a bun, her bangs framing her pale, clear face. Her eyes shone like emeralds, and she held her hands on her hips, a set of thick shell bangles on her wrists. The longer he looked upon her, the more her cheeks suffused with an embarrassed blush.

"You going to get up or enjoy the view?" She offered her hand.

He took it, standing. His other hand dusted off his pants, drawing Miranda's gaze to his belt. "You're not going to wear that, are you?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"N-Nothing!" She smiled, and, tightening her grip on his hand (with her cybernetic one, fully in command of its tenacious hold), she turned and started walking quickly back into town. He saw the pale white flash of her bare feet, with similar bangles on her ankles. The jangling notes filled the air before they were soon drowned out by the noises of revelry as they penetrated the crowd around the building. They were glad to have their demon and the vampire spirit taken care of, and celebrated once again for their heroes.

There was a live band playing. They were revelers, drumming their fingers in a wild rhythm, and in the center of the crowd outside of the building, there was Mouka. He ran to meet them, wearing very little in the way of clothing, his skin glistening with some kind of oil.

"Hey, you guys. It's not starting yet but you can dance together if you want. They're playing inside, waiting for you, since you're the guests of honor an' all!"

Miranda blinked, watched as the fire dancer danced his way back into the middle of the circle. She went to pull D with her, but felt herself struggling to pull a stalwart rock. She turned to give him a scathing glare. "What's wrong?"

"I can't..."

"Don't be stupid, D." She pulled again. "You won't try to say no, will you? Because--"

D smiled, and Miranda, surprised, laughed. And they went in together.