Sheer Heart Attack. A long-range automatic tracking bomb and the second special ability of Killer Queen. With a nigh-indestructible green shell and a skull-like faceplate, the tiny tank assaults its foes both physically and psychologically as it endlessly seeks out their body heat, not allowing them even a moment's repose. It is an unstoppable force with an insatiable hunger for the hottest thing in the room. And, as fate would have it, the body of a man in the middle of battle whose heart is racing and pumping warm blood to the widening capillaries at the surface of his skin, all while being wrapped in a heavy trench coat, makes for a strong insulated heater indeed.

The white pinpricks within Sheer Heart Attack's eye sockets, bordered by an inky blackness that seemed to defy all logic of their possible depth, levelled on Fusilli. With an enthusiastic rev its treads carried it from rest to maximum speed in an instant, sending the diminutive explosive rocketing at the assassin, who turned his head just in time to see a green blur headed straight for his torso.

However, it seemed that the orange-clad man was in luck. Just before Sheer Heart Attack could get Fusilli within its effective range, he was pulled away by the metal monstrosity that was his partner's Stand. In the brief moment before the explosion it had shifted its attention from Kira to Fusilli and snatched him up, wrapping its arms around him in a defensive gesture. It wasn't a moment too soon, either, as Sheer Heart Attack unleashed its first explosion of the night.

It missed its original target by a hair's breadth thanks to the Stand's quick thinking, the blast instead ravaging the thing's spiked back and turning much of the metal into so much blackened dust. If Kira had to make a guess, a rather rough one at that considering the odd proportions and maze-like anatomy, about half of its torso had been replaced by a smouldering hole surrounded by still-glowing metal. The killer watched from his kneeling-with-one-hand-stuck-to-the-hardwood position as at shrank back, wounded, and eventually retreated into the object that it had originally sprung from, a silvery sphere of some kind.

'Interesting,' Kira mused. 'While its speed and power may exceed Killer Queen's, its durability is significantly inferior. Not only that, but any extensive damage appears to force it to withdraw from the battle.'

With time to think, Kira began to go over what he knew of his adversaries and concoct a plan. Right now, Fusilli's Stand, was a non-issue. Indeed, it had him trapped, but Sheer Heart Attack seemed perfectly capable of keeping the Stand user busy. Him trapping the relentless heat seeker didn't worry him either, for from the gum touching his and his Stand's skin Yoshikage could feel a faint warmth that he was certain would set Sheer Heart Attack off, if only barely. At least, he hoped.

His partner, on the other hand, was a much more pressing problem. Fusilli had said that he hadn't destroyed it earlier' just the metal it was inhabiting. By that logic, it was safe to assume the thing was functionally immortal until the area was completely devoid of metal objects. A quick scan of the room confirmed to Kira's dismay that reaching such an end was quite impossible given the sheer volume of metallic items scattered about the space, both familiar and foreign. Fusilli hadn't been wrong after all; no matter how warily he handled the situation, his own short-sightedness had allowed a clever trap to sneak through the cracks in his explosive defence. Even worse, it appeared that Sheer Heart Attack would be of no use against it. The metal was just that, cold and unliving and nowhere near hot enough to prompt an explosion. The damage it sustained was its own choice, not his, and the moment the two assassins figured out that the colder of the two could simply split off and finish Yoshikage would be the moment he lost.

Still, though, his situation wasn't a hopeless one. During the brief time in which he'd combatted this mysterious assailant, the razor-edged, calculating Kira family mindset had been hard at work logging everything down to the tiniest detail. The most obvious one was, as previously noted, its low damage threshold, but that still left the problem of it popping up behind him or some other unfavourable outcome. No, the best path to victory was the least obvious one. This Stand had appeared in completely separate locations, yet the user wasn't visible anywhere. That pointed towards an independent Stand like the one currently busying itself pursuing the other warm-bodied Stand user in the room, and yet there was intelligence in its actions. Could it be that this Stand was actually being controlled remotely from a distance, like an RC car? And it had no eyes and thus couldn't see, so the user must be close by, somewhere where they had the perfect view of what was going on inside the house…

Apparently finally seeing an opening, Fusilli vaulted over his kitchen cabinet and away from Sheer Heart Attack before darting through the door Kira had initially entered. Kira could almost feel the vibrations as he thundered up the stairs, the automatic stand hot on his heels. The metallic Stand seemed to be torn between engaging him and helping its partner for a few seconds before disappearing, leaving Yoshikage all alone in the kitchen-living room space.

Kira looked out at his garden, cloaked in the darkness of the rapidly approaching dusk. Thinking about it, the glass patio back door was quite large, wasn't it?

The blond Stand user let a victorious smirk grow on his lips despite his perilous situation. Yes, he knew exactly what he needed to do. That grin only grew when he realised that he could still reach his mobile phone.


Fusilli was still running from his tank-like pursuer as he did everything he could to stall its advance, ranging from . Unfortunately it was all in vain, for no matter what tactics his adrenaline-saturated mind could dream up it just kept on coming like a bat out of hell. ACT2 was useless in this situation, and he couldn't get a moment's peace to even think about using ACT1. Even taking out their target, Yoshikage Kira, wasn't an option since either he'd have to slow down to do it or Ala would have to abandon him for a moment, both recipes for ending up a smouldering red smear on the walls. Right now, the only thing he could do was keep on running away from that creepy melon tank.

"Look over here."

So damn creepy!

But neither its creepiness nor its terrifying power was nothing compared to the shock of the fact that it existed in the first place. In all the time he'd been with Passione, he'd seen Stands of just about every type imaginable, enough to blow the average person's mind several times over. However, the one unbroken rule had always been one Stand with one ability to one user, no more. Ehe tiny ones with many separate bodies had technically been part of the same Stand, as were his ACTs. His target, Yoshikage Kira, had a Stand named Killer Queen. That's what he had called it, right? So why, in the name of everything holy, did the one guy he just so happened to be assigned to kill have two?! What sick twist of fate

Fusilli was at the top of the stairs now, and the tank wasn't too far behind. Shit, he needed to get to a window! He looked to his left and, like a resplendent angel descending from the heavens to plant a tender kiss on his forehead, a pane of glass stood embedded into the wall. The first knives of moonlight slid through a cloudy covering, and the brightest stars began to show themselves. And the dark, foreboding silhouette in the centre could only be one person.

Ala's Stand tore forth, leaping out from a decorative metal figurine of a hand on the windowsill - a little weird, but Fusilli was hardly about to complain about his mark's unorthodox preference in ornamentation when it had likely saved his life. With a mighty metallic roar more akin to metal against metal than a vocalisation it drove its barbed fist into the faceplate of the tank Stand and sent it well off course, rebounding off of the walls of the staircase multiple times and leaving sizeable craters until coming to a spinning stop on its back at the bottom floor.

Fusilli glanced back at Ala's cloaked form and flashed her a wide grin and a thumbs-up, to which her only response was to point in the direction of the tank which had somehow managed to right itself. Oh, yeah, he should probably do something about that.

Had the bathroom door been shut, it would definitely have been torn from its hinges as the orange-clad Stand user barrelled through the doorway with his trench coat dancing behind him in the artificial wind. He nearly slipped onto his backside when his spats struck the floor, their smooth soles incapable of finding purchase on the soaking tiles coated in a thick bubbly lather. But while deliberately moving to precarious ground while being pursued by a relentless killing machine on treads would be nothing short of suicide to the average mind, Fusilli could only smirk as he rebelled in his new advantage.

It didn't take much more than a couple of seconds for the bomb to materialise from the landing, the mechanical whir of moving parts and growl of an engine unmistakable precursors to its arrival. Once more it turned to face its target, soulless eye sockets locked on to Fusilli's own.

"Look over here."

"What's that? You want me to look at you? You're sick of seeing my back as I run away from you?" Fusilli crossed one leg in front of the other in a gravity-defying tiptoe stance while pointing both index fingers towards his foe. His feet began to glow with wisps of translucent orange. "Fine! I'm done running away! You wanna kill me?! Go ahead and try it! Crystal Ball!"

From the red-yellow energy surrounding Fusilli's lower legs, a shape began to take form. It was only a vague outline at first, but gradually it gained substance until surrounding the bottom half of each limb was a thick boot made of interlocking dull-grey metal plates that had a ring of white fur surrounding the mouth of the boot and soles which increased in thickness from the toes to the heel. To finish it off, a single black wire ran down from the shin guard to the top of the foot.

"Look over here!" yelled the tank, more forcefully this time as though responding to his challenge in kind. The treads tore at the floor as it sped forth with blinding speed until it jumped up towards Fusilli's chest and embedded itself deep within a gory crater before detonating one final ball of fierce flames.

Except it didn't, for its advance was all but negated by the scented lubricant that coated the floor. It tried to leap upwards but it seemed that it couldn't get a grip, and instead went careening straight into a foot-high pile of bubbles that hadn't been there half a second before. It was consumed in an instant, its green shell disappearing beneath into the white, frothy maw of his Stand like a shipwreck being dragged miles down to the sea floor by a beast of myth. The bubbly mass shook and jiggled as the trapped Stand tried to escape to no avail. Fusilli couldn't stop his lips from curling into a victorious smile at the sight, nor did he feel any desire to, for now he could put the final stage of his gambit into action. He inhaled deeply, more deeply than he felt he'd ever inhaled before, and finally put the gum that had been waiting in his mouth for so long to good use. An enormous bubble easily four times the size of his head appeared before his face, which he sent off with a sharp puff of air from between pursed lips. It drifted closer and closer to the airy lather, a menacing, spherical harbinger of misfortune, before seemingly taking the whole thing inside its hollow interior to form an airtight, multicoloured jail cell.

"And that's a wrap, I think! You're pretty intimidating on the surface, I'll give you that, but your power really wasn't that hard to beat. A tank needs solid ground for its treads to move on, right? So I thought to myself, 'well, what do you get when you take that solid ground away?' A tracking bomb that can't even chase after the thing that it tracks, that's what. Crystal Ball ACT2's power to control any bubbles on the same surface as my feet was the perfect counter to you." Fusilli stepped carefully around the miniature bomb's makeshift prison, making sure to avoid its blast radius, before stopping in front of his foe's bathroom mirror. He pulled a small wide tooth comb and began repairing his elephant's trunk, rearranging the many frayed strands that had fallen out of place during the pursuit back into their proper positions.

"Now with this thing disabled, all we have to do is go down there and kill the user, right, Ala?"

"Don't be so complacent. He's not dead, so it's not 'a wrap', no," came the scolding voice of his partner from the slightly open window on the far side of the bathroom. "I'll go back to the patio doors and wait for you. Hurry up. And don't go talking about your ability so freely, someone could be listening."

"Right, right…" he sighed, putting the last few locks back together before pocketing the comb and walking out. Man, he'd just outplayed both of their target's abilities and she couldn't celebrate even a little? The guy's so-called insurance had failed him and he was defenceless. Was it so wrong to be excited about being paid for a job well done?

As Fusilli walked down the stairs he couldn't help but shiver. That confused him, since he'd just been running for his life barely a minute earlier and he'd been stewing in his own sweat and body heat the entire time. Perhaps it was a lingering affect of the adrenaline that saturated his body? …No, it couldn't be that. Without a doubt this house had definitely gotten colder. Why? What was the reason behind this? The possibility of it being another Stand attack was out of the question, surely? Yoshikage Kira's abilities had all revolved around making things go up in flaming explosions, so an ability that makes things colder was an impossibility.

…That said, there was nothing to say that Yoshikage Kira's Killer Queen was the only Stand here. A fresh bead of sweat, this time not born of physical exertion, appeared on Fusilli's forehead as he began to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, this Kira guy wasn't alone. He'd had plenty of time to himself downstairs, hadn't he? If he was a smart man then he would have used this opportunity to call any allies he had - Fusilli certainly knew that in such a situation calling Ala would be the first thing he'd do.

He was at the bottom of the stairs now, but his stance was so rigid that it looked like he'd been frozen in time. If this truly was a Stand ability, then there were numerous things to consider. Where was the user? What range could the Stand have? Did it apply its ability through some sort of targeting criteria or did it lack the ability to discriminate, merely attacking everything in a given radius? Fusilli's head slowly swivelled left and right, scanning for any potential enemies in likely hiding spots when he heard a faint humming noise, almost like that of a machine, coming from right behind him. He whipped around, ready to summon his Stand and defend himself against…

…An AC unit on the wall. The assassin stood stock still and stared for a good five seconds before resting his hands on his hips and falling into a fit of laughter, shaking his head all the while. Of course, it was still summer and pretty warm, so it only made sense for the AC to be set to automatic for more comfortable sleeping. An enemy Stand, what was he thinking? His laughter died down to little chuckles as he stepped back into the kitchen area. There was no danger here!

That was when he got splashed in the face with freezing water.


The sight of his attempted murderer getting doused with the contents of a large pot full of cold water and thick slush was rather amusing, Yoshikage decided. The way Fusilli's elaborate hairstyle immediately wilted upon contact with the icy mixture brought a sense of vengeful pride to the man stuck to the floor. Predictably, the indignant assassin didn't share the sentiment.

"Ah, bloody hell! What's all this?! Ice?! Why?!" Fusilli stopped shaking ice from beneath his trench coat and regarded Kira, seething and shivering. "What, you wanted one last blaze of glory before you went out? Is that it? Well, we were just going to kill you quickly and be done with it, but now I think I'll repay you with a painful death! Nobody messes up my hair and gets away with it!"

Kira raised an eyebrow. "You thought I did that to spite you? Well, that's good for me, I suppose. It means you haven't figured out Sheer Heart Attack's targeting system yet."

"What? Targeting system?" Fusilli's anger seemed to vanish at Kira's words, replaced with wariness.

"Of course. How did you think that Sheer Heart Attack was following you? I'm not controlling it, so it needs a way to lock on to troublesome people on its own. You see, Fusilli, Sheer Heart Attack is an independent bomb that seeks out and destroys the hottest thing in its current environment. Its targeting system is based on temperature."

"Is that right? I figured you just pointed it at a target and let it loose, but it looks like your Sheer Heart Attack's not even that sophisticated," said Fusilli. "But if that's the case all of this cold is pointless, then. Why bother cooling me down? It'd be more useful to heat me up."

"Right, you're naturally wondering why I've doused you in cold water if Sheer Heart Attack chases heat. Why bother using valuable time to prepare ice water with Killer Queen and then throw it on you? I can understand that. What I've done doesn't make sense, does it?" Kira began to smirk. "That's because, right now, you're not actually what I'm trying to blow up…"

The noise of trundling treads could suddenly be heard from the staircase. Both men looked around to see that, indeed, Sheer Heart Attack was sitting through the doorway in all its fist-sized terror. Little shreds of gum clung to the emerald body, almost looking like flesh that served only to enhance its eeriness.

"What the hell?! I stuck that thing in a gum cage! How did it get free?!" yelled Fusilli, backing away from the bomb.

"Weren't you listening? I just told you that Sheer Heart Attack pursues hot things in its environment. By trapping it in gum that you'd been heating in your mouth, as I knew you would, you only gave it something warmer than the rest of the room to pursue. It likely freed itself by selecting your gum as a target."

"Look over here!" Sheer Heart Attack leapt towards Fusilli, who raised his arms up and screamed as he tried to shield himself from the impending blast.

However, Sheer Heart Attack merely sailed over the man's shoulder and towards its user.

"Killer Queen!" The Stand moved in front of its master at his command and, when its automatic counterpart entered its range, it kicked Sheer Heart Attack like a soccer ball through the patio doors and into the back garden. Shards of glass fell like snowflakes to the ground in the bomb's wake.

"It's a shame, really. I wish I'd waited a little longer before turning the stove on. You would've been killed, then. I was afraid if it just kept chasing you then we would have a repeat of the past few minutes and I would end up losing, but it appears you were too conceited to prepare another piece of gum." Kira observed flatly, sounding rather disappointed as he attracted his orange foe's attention. Indeed, there was an electric stove with the power button emitting a telltale red light. Fusilli was confused. That's what the bomb had targeted rather than him?

"You see, I needed you to be as cold as possible because there was no guarantee that Sheer Heart Attack wouldn't go after you. That's why I splashed you with ice water and used an application on my phone I recently downloaded to turn the air conditioning on remotely." Kira pulled a smartphone from his pocket and waved in before his nose tauntingly. "Modern technology truly is wonderful, isn't it?"

"You… What're you planning with that tank?!" Fusilli made to get a stick of gum from his pocket, but paused when his mark's pink Stand seemed to retreat. What was it doing? Wouldn't it rather stop him from attacking its user? What could it be doing over there that was more important?

He got his answer soon enough. Killer Queen floated over to the kitchen counter and picked up a mug, which it then poured over the stove to the sound of sizzling and steam.

"M-More ice?!"

Kira shrugged. "There's always the chance that Sheer Heart Attack could return inside to attack this hot stove, so I'm cooling it down again. This is, to be quite honest with you, an awful plan. It's incredibly elaborate and relies on far too many variables to be remotely safe for me. If one thing goes wrong then I'm likely to die. On top of that, there's all this damage that I've got to clean up now. How am I going to explain it? You and your partner really have forced me into a difficult position.

"But it looks like the winds of luck are guiding my sails once again, so to speak, since it unfolded perfectly in the end. Tell me, Fusilli, if I've cooled down both you and the stove, and I've put Sheer Heart Attack outside, who is it going to pursue…?"

The two looked outside to where the bomb had landed on the wooden patio, shaking violently in the crater formed by its own impact. A second later it seemed to right itself and look upwards, like a curious feline that had spotted something interesting on the house's wall.

"I know your position and your ability, and how to get around them. You'll be fairly easy to defeat. But with that powerful Stand, your partner is the real danger to me now."

Fusilli's eyes widened as the realisation struck him like a freight train. "ALA, MOVE! HIS STAND'S GOING TO TARGET YOU!"

But his warning came too late. Sheer Heart Attack propelled itself skyward and out of view, something that was immediately followed by one of its trademark explosions. Two things proceeded to fall out of the sky, one being the Stand itself and the other a far larger shape that looked like a deep brown sheet of canvas. It billowed in the wind as it dropped, and soon fell away to reveal what was hiding inside.

On the stones, covered in blood and bleeding out fast, was a liminal. From her back grew a set of insectoid wings and a large, wasp-like abdomen that alternated between dull orange and glossy black. Moving to her face revealed a pair of compound eyes, two antennae and a powerful-looking lower jaw made of a thick, yellow chitin, all of which were framed with a head of black hair that seemed to grow upwards rather than down. Her legs and arms were encased in a carapace that shared the abdomen's dangerous colour scheme, and rather than ending in hands or feet, they were tipped with vicious claws. Funnily enough, it seemed that each side of her body had two arms rather than the traditional one.

However, her wounds were what caught Yoshikage's eye. Sheer Heart Attack's explosion had actually taken her left arms, leaving two stumps gushing blood all over the pebbles that formed her bed, of which the sanguine colour was barely visible thanks to the arrival of nighttime. Both her own blood and moonlight bathed her mutilated frame, and it brought Kira great joy to see from the faint hummingbird flutter of her shallow breaths that she was on death's doorstep. Yet Sheer Heart Attack wasn't done yet, as signalled by the noise of its insides starting up to deliver what would undoubtedly be the final blow.

"ALA!"

Kira looked over to see Fusilli leaping through the shattered glass, the orange-haired man then doing something that truly surprised the serial killer. Grabbing a handful of what little slush remained on his body in his right hand, he picked up the heat-seeking explosive and hurled it into the fountain. Yoshikage was, in all honesty, rather impressed by the man's genius. To think that he could come up with such a smart way to handle Sheer Heart Attack in such little time spoke volumes of his intelligence, even if the man seemed quite foolish on the surface.

"I truly can't afford to take my eyes off of him for a minute, can I?" Kira murmured as he watched Fusilli mess around with something outside, likely fumbling with his partner's wounds. Was she still alive? Such a grievous wound would quickly kill a normal human, if only from shock. Ah, but then this person wasn't a normal human, were they? He made a mental note to find out just what species his latest victim was a part of once this was over with. From the looks of things, he wouldn't have to wait long.

"It's ironic, Fusilli," he called across the garden, to which he received an enraged death stare and a snarl in response. "Are you so concerned about your partner that you can't sense the danger you're both in? Even if you distract it for a bit, Sheer Heart Attack's assault…"

The tank leapt out of the water and sped towards the two, its sudden appearance too fast for Fusilli to even react to until he was already well within its range.

"…Is relentless!"

The assassin couldn't even get any words out before he and his ally were overcome by the explosion, their bodies briefly bathed in intense light and heat that then swallowed them up whole. It was almost comical, the expression on Fusilli's face when he realised he wouldn't escape with his life. A mixture of rage, sorrow, fear and many other emotions Kira wasn't sure had a name had flashed in his opponent's eyes during those last few moments, as if he was raging out against the world that had dared insult him so. Too bad it hadn't lasted longer.

Once the smoke had cleared, the only evidence of their existence there was some gore and a crater in the ground where the stones had been displaced by the blast. A small smile played across Kira's bloodied lips. Thus ended the tale of Fusilli and Ala.

…And his tidy home, he realised, that smile transforming into a weary sigh. Kira pulled his way out of the gum that trapped both him and his Stand, now weakened back to regular strength with its owner's passing, and set it alight with Killer Queen. He then called back Sheer Heart Attack, which, with its job now complete, dutifully trundled back to its user and returned to Killer Queen's hand in a flash of light.

"Well, they do say that a journey of a thousand miles miles begins with a single step," Kira mused as he watched the last bits of his colourful prison burn away, eyebrows creased. He made his way into the small pantry that led off from his kitchen and emerged a little later with an apron, a hairnet and a veritable armoury of cleaning supplies that hung under his arm in a white plastic bag. Another sigh escaped his lips as he turned off and began wiping down the hob he'd sullied earlier. A peaceful existence like the one he strived for didn't allow for stressful things like messes, and this disaster certainly wasn't going to clean itself.


Smith was sitting in her office, the constant drone of the AC unit in the background as she pored over the newest mountain of paperwork sent in by her higher-ups. Taking another sip of instant coffee that somehow managed to be both insipid and overly bitter at the same time, she brushed a jet-black lock out of her face and sighed. She couldn't work like this, not when there was so much else on her mind.

She set the mug down on one of the few parts of the desk not covered in papers and cradled her head in her hands, her elbows resting on its solid surface as she allowed her thoughts to run wild.

Yoshikage Kira. She couldn't place it, but there was something distinctly off about him, and not in the way that she was used to. While she was well-versed in the unpredictable and fascinating world of liminals where creatures, cultures and concepts foreign to human society were more than common, none of that helped her with him. He always seemed to be around when something important was happening, and that was suspicious even if he did have an excuse every time. First was the St Lady's incident, then came the fire at the Lakeside that had broken out only minutes after the man in question returned from an unusually long bathroom break. Latest on the list was the retrieval of Papi, something that he shouldn't even have been around for given the fact that he had groceries to return home with. She had only allowed him to take Papi back in his car in the first place because Miia's host - Kimihito Kurusu, was it? The guy was sort of forgettable - was there to watch over the bubbly liminal, even if it was simply to assuage her paranoia. In fact, she'd stayed behind for lunch for the sole reason of seeing whether she could glean anything from the mysterious salaryman, or maybe discourage him from possibly doing anything, well, untoward.

Before, Smith had pretty much brushed all of it off - after all, much of the above could have been explained entirely as coincidence. However, his timely appearance today felt like there was something more to it, something that she couldn't narrow down, as if he had another motive for being at the park other than assisting his neighbour. It was the menacing aura that he exuded at the time, reminiscent of a cat that had just had its prey taken away.

Solid alibi or not, it was a fact that wherever there was drama or commotion, Yoshikage Kira was certain to never be far away, lurking in the background less like a character in the play and more like part of the scenery. Smith wanted to know why.

Immediately after arriving back at Exchange headquarters she had spent the last hour and a half investigating the mysterious salaryman, using her position in the agency (and a few favours from friends in other departments) to glean what she could about just who - and what - he was. To be frank, she didn't quite know what she expected to turn up given that she knew next to nothing about Yoshikage Kira. What kind of person was he? What was his life story? What were his goals, his ambitions, his dreams? For God's sake, she had known the man for a grand total of around two hours, maybe two and a half if she pushed it. He could have turned out to be just another creep with a monster girl fetish for all she knew. He could have been anyone. Whatever the case, nothing could have prepared her for what she did find.

Nothing.

No matter what she investigated, no matter how much information she pored over, Yoshikage Kira had virtually no records whatsoever. He had the basic stuff you'd expect, of course, like a birth certificate and dental records, but beyond the bare minimum? There was hardly anything of substance there. School records? There, but vague. Previous jobs? A few, but inconspicuous positions that you couldn't really confirm yourself because nobody ever paid attention to the actual people in those sorts of jobs. What information did exist was incredibly barebones, and even his purchases on things like housing and his car could only be traced back to about last summer. It was almost as if his life hadn't been lived, but rather crafted. As if, prior to a year ago, the man hadn't even existed.

Yes, Yoshikage was certainly suspicious with a capital 'S'. Even that, though, paled in comparison to the most paramount concern of all, the one that had been keeping her awake for nights on end and threatened to see everything she had been working for even before the Exchange's creation decimated.

A knock at her door jerked her away from her train of thought and made her jolt slightly in her seat. Collecting herself, she called out, "Who is it?"

"Me, can I come in?" came the rough reply. Smith briefly exhaled in relief at the voice that could only belong to one person.

"Go ahead, Zombina." Smith watched as the door swung open on oiled hinges, revealing the rambunctious, red-headed undead member of the M.O.N. team holding two steaming mugs of coffee in one hand. She was dressed in her standard work outfit that was fifty percent black trousers, fifty percent matching blazer and absolutely zero percent shirt, which showed off her impressive (if patchwork) bust. Smith had tried to get her to dress decently in the past, but her co-worker had argued that dressing so lightly made it that much easier to strip off and get into her M.O.N. suit at a moment's notice. Bullshit, of course, but Smith frankly didn't care enough to keep trying after that.

"'Zombina'?" chuckled the zombie as she nudged the door shut with her toe. "You never call me that crappy name out of public. What gives?"

"Huh? Oh, right," Smith responded with a wave of her palm, "I'm just focused on my work at the minute. Sorry, Zoe."

The undead raised an eyebrow at that. "You? Focused on your work in a building filled with all the powdered bean juice a woman could need? How long do you think I've known you, Kuruko?" She set the cups on a shelf to her right and placed her hands on her hips. "Seriously, what's up? You can tell me."

Smith hesitated briefly as her words got caught in her throat, before exhaling through her nose and rubbing her eyes. "I'm just worried everything that's been going on recently. It's like the world has it out for us or something."

"…You're talking about him, aren't you?" Zoe asked with a knowing expression. "Look, I get that you think the guy's bad news and all, and I agree it's pretty suspicious how he just turned up outta the blue at every corner, but there's not even any evidence. For all we know it could be a coincidence. Worse than that, abusing your position to stalk some dude could get you fired!"

"I know, I know," Kuroko said, "but it's just not something I can ignore."

With that, the interspecies coordinator stood from her chair and walked over to the shelf, picking up one of the coffee cups and taking a deep drink despite the scalding temperature. Her brown eyes locked with the amber and green of her partner's, causing an air of palpable tension to quickly settle in the small room.

"Besides, that's not really the reason why I'm so worried."

Zoe's face shifted to one of confusion and she went to open her mouth to inquire further, but the black-haired agent was quick to stop her with a raised hand.

"Listen, Zoe. Before I say anything else, I can't stress how important it is that none of this leaves this room. Nobody can know about this, especially not the others. Tio would end up running off on her own and Manako would be too terrified to work. I'd tell Doppel, but she'd probably let it slip to the other two by accident. You're the only one I trust enough to stay level-headed about this, understand?"

Zoe fidgeted uncomfortably under the intensity of the other woman's glare before speaking. "Yeah, I get you. But something that could make Doppel and Mana do something so rash? What are you-" she cut herself off as her face was taken over by a sudden flash of recognition. "Wait! You don't mean…?!"

"That's right," Smith confirmed, voice more grim than it had been in years. "It's the reason we were given those special preemptive action privileges. All the skyrocketing criminal activity? The corrupt law enforcement? The disappearances? It's Passione."

-To be continued in chapter 12: Temporary Accommodation-


Stand: Crystal Ball ACT2

User: Fusilli

Power: E

Speed: B

Precision: D

Durability: C

Range: B

Potential: C

Long-range type. It appears as a pair of armoured boots that overlap the user's feet. It has the ability to control any type of bubble on the same plane as the user. It naturally has no method of directly causing damage, but the boots themselves are highly durable so as to protect the user from harm.


I live!

Sorry for taking so long to post this! I went through several drafts of this chapter and couldn't decide on my favourite one, so I ended up doing a lot of work for nothing. I've also been planning upcoming chapters both in this and TFTFAH. Then there's the fact that I've been studying more in an attempt to raise my grades recently, so that's unfortunately going to impact the update schedule. Still, I fully intend to get the next chapters out in less than two months.

Thanks to Luckychaos for allowing me to use his version of Zombina's real name. I was going to make another, but after reading his story I can't think of her as being called anything else. Go read it, it's called "Daily Life As A Supporting Character" and it's pretty damn good.