I stretched languidly, feeling more refreshed than I had at any point since losing my human heart. My bed was empty, but from the lingering warmth and a faint smell of roses I knew Kurama had left not long ago. He had been acting a little strangely yesterday – but then again, Woden's attack had been more than enough to disrupt routine. I imagined that Kurama was trying to give me space to grieve, or rage, or something else I didn't understand I needed yet.

He had left some fruit – fresh, of course – on my little table. It tasted perfect; from the garden of Eden itself. It should have been a great start to the day, but it just reminded me that Nyema or Woden had always brought me breakfast. Not because they served me, but because they generally seemed concerned that I wouldn't eat unless force-fed most of the time. Kurama's fruit breakfast was perfect, but I missed Nyema's carefully organized and healthy selections, or Woden's haphazard smorgasbord of sugary delights.

Nyema was dead. Woden was awaiting Enki's judgement.

Life went on.

I dressed, choosing Mukuro's scar-baring gown for Court. There had been terrible losses on all sides, and it was no time to show weakness. I drew my hair back and pinned it out of my face. It made my jaw look harsh and my expression angry. Perfect. The shadows had faded from around my eyes, and it took only a few pats to bring rosy color to my cheeks. I looked okay. I looked like I was doing okay.

Court was more sparsely populated than I had come to know – absences due to death, due to apprehension – and it left the room feeling cavernous. The echoes of hushed conversation rattled around my brain uncomfortably.

I sat in the large Seat of Alaric, picking at the armrests, still stained orange with someone's old blood. I tapped the armrest once. The other Seats were empty – I wondered if the others had died in Woden's attack. I wouldn't weep for Yuda, but Hokushin had been a calming presence at times.

The murmurs in the room died as Enki entered, the only sounds the groaning of his wooden throne as he was seated. He smiled warmly at the room, as though it was a room of his closest friends, and not bitterly rivalrous factions.

He spread his hands, greeting us. "My friends, I am glad to see so many of your faces after the tragic events of the recent past. For those who we lost, a moment of respect." Enki bowed his head briefly, clasping his hands before him. No one else in the hall bowed heads; instead there was only painful, heavy silence.

Enki let the silence hang a moment longer than was comfortable. He let his hands fall back to the arms of his throne, and smiled up at us again. "Yuda has returned to Gandara, and appropriate representation will be joining us in short order. I understand that there will be new and difficult choices ahead of us." He gestured to the two empty Seats. "The observant among you will also note that Hokushin has elected to return to Tourin, for similar reasons."

He shook his head. "It is a weary day, my friends." He drummed his fingers against the wood, considering briefly. I could feel the sound brushing against my skin – it was calming; regular as a heartbeat. "I believe we will wait until our Seats are filled to reconvene. Until tomorrow, we will all take the time to consider the best future. And perhaps, some of you may convince the more timid to return."

The hall emptied quickly – no one lingered to engage in the political side-talk. Yasuo made his way across the crowd as we joined the throng. "How are you?" he asked gently, his hand brushing my arm.

I shot him a harsh look. "You should know better, Yasuo."

He nodded. "Of course. A representative of Alaric would be nothing less than level-headed." His gold eyes flitted across my face, searching for something. "But I am asking my friend, who has lost another friend, if she is in pain."

I glanced to the side, but no one was listening to our conversation. I sighed. "There's no reason for it, and it confuses me. I'm angry, mostly. I try not to dwell on it. "

He nodded in understanding. "I have friends in the kitchens who were killed. I feel that pain as well." His golden eyes were dark, and I believed him.

A demoness I didn't recognize tapped his arm, gathering his attention. "My apologies, I need to attend to this," he excused himself, and I was alone in the crowd once more.

Kurama appeared at my side, his stride matching mine as if he had never been absent.

"My apologies for my tardiness. I did not expect Enki to cut Court so short today."

I shrugged. "You didn't miss anything."

"All the same, I know certain absences must have made it an odd morning." He hadn't meant it as a reminder, but it hit like one. It hit like an accusation because I hadn't noticed the absence of my friends in the room as I sat. At breakfast, yes, but their presences had been far more important at Court.

I hadn't noticed the absence of a guardian or a comrade at my shoulder; was it because I was ignoring the loss, or because I didn't care? I wondered if I was some sort of heartless monster – one fuzzy evening and a morning of pancakes and I was totally willing to forget some of my most important friends.

I held back a deep sigh – be proud of me, they had been starting to become a new part of my language – and tried not to engage in self-flagellation. "It was an odd morning, yeah." I agreed.

Kurama walked closely at my side, his hand occasionally brushing against mine. It was comfortingly uncertain – the hesitation of a much younger man. It was a reminder that for all of Kurama's ancient history he still treated my feelings as human, and in that sense we were on an even playing field of inexperience.

The walk back to my suite is a long one, but we travelled in silence, hands brushing against each other but never clasping. It felt like a relief to reach my door – I had been gone barely an hour, but I needed to hide from the world again. I kicked off my thin shoes as I walked in and flopped over on the bed, sighing heavily into my pillows. There was that sighing again.

"Maggie?" he asked tentatively. "Do you want to be alone?" Kurama had barely stepped into the suite, a hand still on the doorknob. The door creaked slightly at the hinges as he closed it another inch.

No. I don't. "If you have somewhere you need to be, you don't have to stay." I murmured around the pile of pillows. It was slightly bitter of me to say that. His absences had been extended and without explanation, but we weren't the kind of people who asked.

The door clicked shut. I grumbled something darkly in my head before the bed dipped beside me. "That's not an answer to the question I asked you."

"You're busy." I was rationalizing trying to make him leave.

I felt his hair tickle my arm as he leaned closer. "Maggie,"

"I want you to stay," I begrudgingly admitted. "Don't you dare smile." I warned. It didn't work. "I can hear you smiling." I rolled over on the bed, glaring at him. "Literally – I can hear the muscles in your face contracting smugly."

Kurama blinked innocently, his face bland. "I assure you no such thing happened."

"Right," I grumbled. I settled into the downy comfort of my bed. I felt okay. I didn't think I should feel okay, but I didn't want to waste the moment. I tucked myself against his side, satisfied to find that I fit quite well.

Kurama stiffened slightly in surprise as I pressed myself against him – one could honestly just call it cuddling – but seemed at ease wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Yeah, it was cuddling.

I was okay. It was all okay.

I opened my mouth a few times before any sound came out. I didn't know what was trying to come out, but it was coming from that place of okay and alright and comfortable and something ineffable tingling in the back closet of my memory.

It came out on the third try. "When I went to the Dove Center, they did a lot of tests, but everything seemed okay." Kurama stopped breathing. I could hear it.

"I woke up in a windowless room, on the floor, and I was so confused. This lizard-demon came to the door, and took me to meet the Doctor for the facility. He took some information, fitted me with a collar, and explained what was going to happen. He told me…" my voice cut out for a moment. "He explained that I would be made into a servant of hardier stock."

After that brief falter, my voice steadied. "I met a woman, a demoness named Chinmoku, in the halls. She gave me back my med-alert bracelet, and I think that's not something she was supposed to do. When the time came for my-… my transplant… she was the one across from me."

I wasn't looking at Kurama directly, but at the texture of his dress shirt. I was just talking to a shirt, and not Kurama. "She managed to touch me, and explain that she was giving me a Gift. I know now that she was willingly passing along her powers with the Song. I don't think it's something a demon can be born with – I think it's earned or fought for. It has too much will of its own to be inherited, I think." I caught my digression, and tapped his shirt like one might click a pen idly. "Anyway, they did the surgery on her first – for the harvest. They didn't bother with anesthesia, with her or me."

I paused, wondering whether to give more details. Kurama was breathing again, but in a too-even manner, as one trying not to startle a sleeping partner. I think he got the gist of it, so I moved on. "I woke up in my cell, and it was worse than the surgery. I felt like I was dying, one little piece at a time. I was being burned alive from the soul outwards. But I had my bracelet – it was this symbol that I just latched on to." I clenched his shirt briefly in a fist. "I survived the change. A lot of people didn't."

"We didn't have a lot of time to recover before they lined us up for auction. There was this little girl in line who was upset, so I gave her my bracelet to make her smile – she had the same name as me, which was funny. That's where you lost my trail, I think?" I glanced up at Kurama's face, and my stomach shot into my throat.

I looked away quickly – a flash of green and gold closer and more vibrant and angry and bleeding emotion – as he nodded once. I returned my focus to his shirt. It was a nice shirt.

"I was sold, along with a few others, to a demon who ran some fancy demon's mansion. We were chained together and run through the forest. We were given clothes, and food, and these stupid cleaning tasks to do over and over. I don't think he needed as many servants as he had, but there we were."

I smiled at the flicker of the only good memory in the whole experience. "I had a friend there… She was going through the same kind of delayed changes that I was, but hers were more obvious. She was slowly turning blue, but it was pretty. We were cleaning a hundred or so crystal glasses, and they started to hum. We thought it was her – another part of her change – but it was me. The glasses exploded from the resonance, and hurt her pretty badly. She was blamed and… and I don't know what happened to her after that." My voice had fallen into a whisper.

I re-centered briefly, still finding courage in Kurama's too-even breathing and really nice shirt. "That night, the Song made its first real emergence. I caused quite a ruckus – levitating furniture, hitting things – and they stopped me by putting warding papers on my skin. It was awful – I could feel the Song slipping away, like watching everything I had ever loved die right in front of me."

I pressed my face against his shirt, running one finger over the same spot I had been staring at. "I was sold to these two big assholes who seemed to pick up troublemaker slaves. This chain line was… it was a lot worse. People were missing appendages, and the running pace was so swift that I almost didn't…" I paused, trying to reign in the lingering terror. "I fell, but I managed to get back up after being dragged a few hundred yards."

Kurama's hand was still around my shoulder, and any time I had shifted closer his arm had moved with me, keeping me close, encouraging me. I needed that strength. "These two found enjoyment in ripping their slaves limb from limb at night – just pulling off body parts to watch people suffer. They had a little healer who would put you back together, but he didn't do a very thorough job – just a patch. I got torn all apart – that's all of the scars. There was a young boy – I tried to take his place in this. They just laughed, and I got to watch as he suffered more.

The silence in the room was deafening. What I wouldn't have given for some elevator music. "The last day, we were running and the ogres realized we had been seen. They tried to escape, but it was over. Mukuro and some of her soldiers had found the slavers, and she didn't tolerate slave trading in Alaric."

This part was hard.

"Her soldiers went down the line releasing the shackles, but they didn't realize mine had been warded iron. As soon as they were loose, it all came back. The Song came back, and it was so angry. I was hurting, and it was angry, and together we… I…" My voice cracked. "I killed them – instantly. I didn't care about the innocent people who were around them. I needed them dead. I needed them to be dead."

I cleared my throat a few times, beating down the emotions and tears fighting for a part in the conversation. "Mukuro invited me to Alaric, and the rest is… the rest is okay. I was given guidance in controlling the Song – to earn the right to control it through discipline and hard work. I came to Court. Here I am."

I turned my head, not quite self-assured enough to look up at those green gold angry passionate eyes, so I settled on his jaw. It was locked tight. "I'm tired of secrets." I said softly. "And I just wanted you to know that I'm okay."

The hand that had been on my shoulder was running through my hair, slowly. I risked a glance a little higher than his jaw. His mouth seemed relaxed, so I looked higher still. The gold was releasing his eyes, and majority returning to green.

"If you tell me you're alright, I believe you." His lips pursed for a moment. "But if you are anything other than comfortable, tell me, and whatever you need I will provide."

A thrill ran through my chest at the bold offer. It made my face hot and my hands cold. "I think I would just like to stay like this. For a while." I nodded, feeling like a crushing schoolgirl. "I'm okay."

He nodded. Once. "Then we'll stay just like this."

I woke up alone. My bed was empty, but from the lingering warmth and a faint smell of roses I knew Kurama had left not long ago. There wasn't fresh fruit on the table, so I guessed that Kurama had left to get something a little more substantial for breakfast. I smiled; maybe he's getting more not-coffee, I thought.

I slipped out of the warm blankets, and shrugged on my heavily embroidered dressing gown. I splashed some water on my face, and pulled the tangles from my hair. I felt refreshed, inside and out. It felt so good to be okay – I had actually forgotten what it felt like to feel on an even keel.

I grabbed a handful of pins for my hair and sat on the edge of the bed. There was a light knock at the door and I had to spit a pin out of my mouth to answer. "Come in," I called over my shoulder, tucking a few more pins into my hair.

It honestly hadn't occurred to me that it would be anyone but Kurama. A slippery, cool sensation slid against my senses, and I stood up from my bed in a jerky motion, whirling around to face the door as my hair fell from its half-pinned state.

She leaned in the doorway as though she owned the hall, my room, and the entire floor. Her bionic eye wandered around, but her organic one fixed on me like a predator that still has room for one more meal. "You've grown complacent, and lazy."

"Mukuro. It's good to see you again." My voice was clipped, but I attempted to show some kind of appreciation at her presence. Even though I was horribly confused.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, but it seemed less than casual. "Is it? You hardly seem pleased to see me."

I bobbed my head to the side, shrugging a shoulder. "Consider me surprised."

She measured me up with a glance. "I got your message about Woden and Nyema. Pity."

I returned the calculated glance. "You came to pay your respects?" I cocked my head to the side. "How unlike you."

She was silent, and then offered the barest hint of a smile. "Indeed – and not at all why I'm here." She sauntered slowly into the room, pushing off from the doorjamb. "You're going to want to sit down."

She shut the door.

A/N – holy cow, I haven't posted in three months on this story! PBP is so, so close to being over, and I just can't bring myself to finish it. I'm also leery of finishing it too quickly and leaving you all wishing I had been more detailed or whatever. It's a curse.

I know what you're thinking – how can it almost be over!? There's still so much left to happen, and we don't even know who the bad guy is working for yet? Yeah, sorry about that.

Where the hell is Kurama in this chapter? In and out and gone for no reason?

I think this chapter represents the best mental health moment Maggie's had since she left the Human World. She's okay. She accepted the things that have happened, and they aren't threatening to drown her anymore. This is a super important moment for her, even though the chapter just probably seems like fluff. It's plot fluff. I also had to sit down for several hours and force this sucker out after I realized I hadn't posted in three months.

Many thanks to my ever-patient reviewers! MickeyISrawd, DarkWolf1689, Nevermorea, Miqila, Snaguinary Tide, halem847, RedPanda923, typiicaltaylor, Divine Demonic Assassin, MoonFox940, and Toreh!

PLEASE REVIEW!