Keen

It's funny how quickly time passes when your life is filled with smiles. Before I knew it, we were welcoming a new year together with hope in our hearts. Nothing really changed, or so I wanted to say. But it was pretty obvious that I did.

That was intentional, though. Because I wanted to be more like you.

You were my greatest inspiration. I wanted to smile more and laugh from the inside out. I wanted to cherish every day to its absolute fullest with every friend we keep in our circle together. That's why after Tomo's release from SCEPTRE4's custody, I started seeing him again, no matter how bitter it made Yata, at the time.

I can't see a reason to make peace with our rivals yet, though. That becomes clearer every time Awashima comes by to visit Onii-san. Seri-chan, that's what he calls her. It must be his way of retaliating against me for bringing Okazaki-san around. But it won't be long now, and I'll be in my final year of high school. I won't need his help with my homework anymore.

Soon, it will be time for me to decide what I want out of this future I made my own, and who I want to share it with.

January 15th, 2010 8:34 pm

Shouts of enraged curses were ear-splitting as Neirah's heels slammed against the dusty warehouse floorboards as quickly as they could carry her. The entire room smelled like sulphur, and any moment, the operation at her back was about to experience a 'freak accident' that saw the illegal contents of the loft go up in flames. Desperate to prevent it, but livid enough to continue shooting at the red clansmen responsible, the enemy fire continued to pelt holes into the boards she thundered across.

Leaping forward with a gentle moan of exertion, Neirah tumbled across the littered floor before springing to her feet and launching the dart at her spine into the already damaged panes of glass at the end of their trek. Ammunition was beginning to pop off more erratically when she jolted her attention over her shoulder, and she knew the fuse to their ruse was growing short. Any moment, the entire building was going to begin to crumble beneath the destruction of hazardous property.

With an urgent squeak, she took hold of the front of Saburōta's shirt, dragging him forward and thrusting him out of the window she'd just opened despite his defiant whimper. Once he was safely on the other side, she launched a couple of darts into the commotion, letting her aura surge from their strike to keep their enemies at bay while they waited for the fireworks.

The moment the building began to quake with the first round of gunpowder igniting, Neirah was the one who felt a reassuring palm fisting between the shoulders of her leather jacket, jerking her out the window next to her unsettled partner. She winced to the thundering crash of rafters going up in smoke, her clenched fists conscious to the way Saburōta's heartbeat raced beneath them. Once he had her locked in his arms, he slammed his back up against the side of the building beside the window to keep them safe from the spray of glass launching from their escape route.

Neirah was just about to step away on the narrow shelf that circled the upper level of the building when she felt the ground tremor a second time. Saburōta palmed the back of his companion's head to keep her from rushing into danger, and when the crackling of bullets combusting subsided, he carefully peeked around the corner of the window. "That happened fast," he muttered worrisomely. "So much for doing it quietly. Shit…" He tightened his grip defensively on the small frame he kept clutched against his front. "Kusanagi-san's gonna be pissed."

Shuffling out from within his embrace, Neirah carefully stepped around him to flatten her shoulders against the same outer wall. "It's fine, everything's fine," she rushed out enthusiastically. "I didn't really expect things to go as planned, anyway." She glared down into the harbour that rested quietly beneath the blanket of the night sky as the building behind them began to buckle. "I guess that makes this our improvised escape route then." She turned her bright, starry gaze to face where his eyes remained concealed beneath sunglasses that he had no business wearing after dark. Despite his unenthusiastic drop of expression, she curled her fingers between them and offered her invitation. "After you, Bandō, baby."

Saburōta immediately shuddered to attention. "Oi! Whatever happened to ladies first, huh?!"

"I really don't have the time to mock you right now, so please don't tempt me," she sassed. "Besides, let's face it, you make a much prettier damsel."

"No way in hell am I'm jumping into that!" he confidently thundered while pointing towards the blackened water's surface. "We don't have a clue how deep it is, and it's like fifty feet below us!"

The pair recoiled to the rocking of the building as the second stash of goods began to smoke. "You will if you want to live," Neirah swiftly assured. "Look at it this way. There's a forty/sixty chance it's deep enough that you won't break all your bones on impact."

Saburōta considered her statement for a moment before catching the dangerous look in her eyes and panicking on the tiny ledge where they stood. "Wait- which one's the sixty!?"

After shoving her companion off the edge of the pier, Neirah watched dully with an aloof expression as he struck the water. Then, to the sight of the window behind her filling with the rush of swelling flames, she delicately popped off and chased after him into the void with an elegantly executed backward dive.

When she struck the water, it was frigid enough to cause her entire body to sting, but when it illuminated with the sight of debris tearing through the dark sky, she was relieved that they hadn't picked the opposite end of the building to scamper. Exhaling a burst of bubbles beneath the water towards the settling of flames, she began to paddle to the surface before she lost her way in the returning murk.

Saburōta surfaced with a gasping breath, flailing wildly in Minato's harbour while scouring the shady liquid surface for the hat that he'd lost during his fall. With a bitter growl, he slapped his hand down on the wading article just as the surface darkened to the subsiding catastrophe. He clenched it tightly as he began to approach the docks not far away. "C-crazy chick's tryin' to k-k-kill me," he muttered through chattering teeth. Despite his obvious annoyance, he worrisomely circled a couple of times in search of his heartless partner. "Tsukiyo?! Oi! Where are you?!"

The power of Neirah's rapid ascent had her popping up out of the water not far from where Saburōta was treading, and she quickly shook her head to clear her sopping hair from her face. "Ho, that's chilly," she sang with an aggravated choke. "Nope. Nope, this was not one of my finer solutions. Cold… Cold…" She could hear sirens beginning to ring through the night as the building smouldered, and their enemies began to evacuate in retreat. Through all the commotion, she figured it wouldn't hurt to call out to her friend. "Wolf-kun? Where are you?" Despite her confidence in their landing, she still said a silent prayer that he hadn't broken anything on the way down. "Bandō?"

"Nē-san, over here!"

Her gentle gaze shot towards the sound of her comrade's voice, and she felt the immediate warmth of relief spread through to the tips of her frozen toes. "A-ah, I guess we were lucky, h-huh?"

Reaching out to take her hand in his, Saburōta stifled the urgent need to slam his palm against her head and hold her underwater. "Are you tellin' me the sixty was the chances of us drowning?!"

Neirah couldn't help laughing as they waded towards the sight of the docks nearby. "Well, to be honest, I didn't even know if you could swim."

"Nē-san is the worst…" he groaned.

"Neirah!" Rikio thundered from nearby. "I was lookin' all over! What are you two doin' in the water?!" Despite Saburōta reaching up for Rikio's assistance, he met with the same chivalrous spirit he was trying to preach before being tossed into the waterway.

"Change of plans," Neirah murmured upon gratefully accepting Rikio's warm palm. "We zigged when we should have zagged."

There was a bothered look on Rikio's face as he helped her to her feet, quickly releasing her to unzip his dark jacket with a sense of urgency. "Kusanagi-san's gonna be mad if you wind up sick," he groaned. "Why is it that every time Bandō's around, you always end up in some sort of danger?"

Once Neirah was on her feet, she reached out with a gently enthusiastic hum and picked the throwing dart out of the dock that she had used to break the window above. With a delicate chuckle, she returned her knife to her pant line and approached the edge, reaching down to take the scrambling Saburōta's hands to help him out of the canal. "Maybe Wolf-kun is cursed too," she teased. "When are you boys going to stop worrying about me, anyway?"

"Thank you!" Saburōta hissed his words out frigidly before shooting Rikio a bitter sneer. "Glad someone cares."

Rikio's gaze anxiously thinned as he held out his dry coat for her to wrap herself up. "When you stop bein'-"

"What? A girl?" she challenged wryly.

He snorted and lunged forward to capture her, clamping his arms around her to lock the coat in place over her shoulders. "I was gonna say reckless."

Neirah drew a deep, settling breath as she closed her eyes and buried her face in the comfortably oversized bomber-style jacket. Sometimes she wondered if she didn't spend more time in it than he did, but it didn't bother her. It didn't seem to bother him either. He always seemed to be near to her when she needed someone to scare the cold away. "The deed is done," she sang sweetly. "All that's left is to flee the scene."

Noticing Saburōta removing his leather to try and wring the excess water out of it, Neirah giggled and fanned her arms out to either side of her. "Wolf-kun! There's probably enough room in here for the both of us, you know!" When she attracted his attention, the calm spill of his crimson aura around his frosted frame vanished.

There was a hint of betrayal on Saburōta's face as he turned to face her incredulously. "Nah, that's okay. I'm good with freezing my ass off so long as our precious queen is nice and toasty."

"So salty," she sang before embracing him regardless. "What kind of queen ends up looking like a drowned rat in order to blast some shady criminal's hideout?"

Despite his sheepish blushing to be clung too so cheekily, he couldn't help but snicker devilishly in retort. "Uh, the best kind."

Overhearing the sound of sirens starting to close in around them, Rikio turned to check their surroundings before encouraging their retreat. "Ah, alright, cut it out, you two. You can screw around once we get out of here and get you dried off."

Shifting in front of Saburōta, Neirah tilted her cute pout towards her ally while continuing to support the flaps of his jacket around herself and her company. "But we haven't visited the Shizume base yet?"

When he turned his incredulous russet gaze to face her, Rikio's expression dropped to express his doubt. "What…?"

She poked one of her hands out from beneath her blanketing comfort to point at the building in shambles. "These people were dealing with another group in Shizume, which is why we got involved in the first place."

Rikio threw his hands up into his hair with an impatient bark. "That's what you're worried about?!"

"I told you she's crazy. That's why we came all the way out here in the first place." Saburōta relentlessly instigated the situation from where he remained trapped behind her back. Noticing that Neirah's top had crept up her icy midriff, he clasped the sides of the spandex material and attempted to tug it back over her abnormally light skin. "But can that surprise you when she dresses like this in the middle of the winter?"

"Wolf-kun stop," she brayed with delight. "That tickles!"

"Hold still," Saburōta nearly snarled. "It's bad enough that your jacket doesn't even cover you here."

With a dim growl, Rikio's expression flattened. "Bandō, grab her legs. We'll carry her back to HOMRA if we gotta."

"E-eh?!" Flopping her wrist lifelessly to his brazen statement, Neirah was staggered by their team threat. "But the mission…"

Catching Neirah's attention over her shoulder, Saburōta made his best attempt at reasoning with the shivering lioness. "Kamamoto's right," he calmly defended. "We can kick ass some other time. Like when it's about ten degrees warmer outside, or you decide to layer up. Whichever comes first." Realizing that it was likely to be summer before she decided to put on an extra layer, he smiled back at her knowingly. "Let's just call it a night."

Neirah pouted and turned back to face Rikio with an aggravated flush in her cheeks. "Mission unaccomplished just doesn't have a nice ring to it."

Rikio chuckled lowly before turning and offering his back. He invited her to get off her feet with a knowing smile and the jarring of his thumb towards his shoulders. "I care less about weapons deals and more about Kusanagi-san comin' down on my ass for letting you get sick. Besides, you hate the cold, right?"

A wavy smile curled her lips as she left Rikio's coat draped over Saburōta's shoulders so she could leap onto his back, causing the pair to join in delighted laughter. "You know me too well," she hummed affectionately.

Tilting his fond smile over his shoulder to meet her enthusiasm, Rikio instigated her playful spirit. "Well, it took a couple years, but I think I got you pretty much figured out now."

"That's alright. I got the coats," Saburōta droned bleakly. "Man, you guys are assholes…"

"Minutiae, Bandō, baby," Neirah cheered gleefully. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

"I've been countin' promises for the past year and a half," he retaliated grimly. "Whatever you're workin' on must be damn good."

Humming the tune to the song he was working hard to memorize, Tatara quietly let himself into his apartment. He still didn't have all the lyrics worked out, but it was becoming more natural for him to play, which encouraged him to find the words to say what he thought was important. Closing his eyes, he spread his arms out to either side of him with a languid stretch, inhaling deeply and enjoying the time of peace seeming to befall their clan since SCEPTRE4's resurrection. "It's such a nice night out. Maybe I should ask Nei-chan if she wants to go for a walk when she gets home. It's been a while since we just-"

When Tatara's eyes opened, he stilled. He repeatedly blinked without a word to try and figure out why Rikio was standing in their kitchen, looking like a criminal as he waited by the open fridge like Tatara might not see him if he didn't move. Even though he was shocked and slightly disturbed, Tatara's smile didn't fade as he purred his curiosity. "Kamamoto? What are you doing in our kitchen?"

"Rikio, hurry up! You're going to miss it!"

With a guilty smile acknowledging Neirah's eager cheer, Rikio gathered the drinks he was requested to obtain before offering Tatara a swift bow and scampering back off into the main room. "Sorry, Totsuka-san. No time to explain."

As soon as Rikio rounded the corner and set down the drinks he'd retrieved, Neirah stopped bouncing around in one place where she was sitting on her knees at the foot of the couch. She was wrapped in one of Rikio's zip-up sweaters, losing her hands somewhere in the long sleeves as she crawled around next to Saburōta on the floor. She was by Saburōta's side when she watched Rikio take a seat behind her, her smile broadening with delight as she climbed the couch to join him. "He's pretty close to beating it this time!"

With a focused growl, Saburōta continued to rapidly mash the buttons on the controller he'd locked in a fierce death-grip. His effects, like hers, were set in various places around the room to dry out, leaving him in a bright t-shirt just in front of Rikio's feet. "Bastard's not gettin' away this time," he commanded firmly. "We got him, Nē-san!"

"Go, go!"

Tatara remained locked up in the doorway as he took in the sounds made by Neirah and Rikio cheering on their friend from the couch in his living room. He and Neirah had never had a game system, to his recollection, and so far as he recalled, they didn't host company often either.

After slowly closing the front door, he began to notice that among their already cluttered apartment, articles of clothing were littering the room. Tatara actively compared it to how he imagined that Yō's apartment might look when he brought strange women home, but he wasn't sure that was comforting. "Well, this is… different," he sang through an entertained beam.

Catching the sound of her roommate's voice, Neirah shuffled on the couch next to Rikio and stood on the cushions. She stretched her arms wide to either side with a delighted smile, and her curvaceous frame was concealed entirely down to her knees by Rikio's sweater. Her hair was still damp, in places, and her cheeks dusted with a soft pink against skin that he thought was typically darker. It seemed strange that Rikio looked to carry a duskier pigment than she had that night. "Tat-chan! You're home! We have guests!"

"I see that," Tatara announced fondly. "I'm glad you're home."

Reaching out to steady her wobbly hips, Rikio tugged on the front pocket of the hoodie to encourage her to sit back down. "Careful, Neirah," he prattled nervously. "You're gonna fall."

With a faint moan, Neirah rolled her eyes and dropped obediently back onto the couch just as Saburōta began to shout at the television screen for flashing signs of his defeat.

"What?! Nooo! I was so close! That bastard cheated!" He pointed at the television and turned to face his friends for backup. "You saw that right!?"

After picking some spicy snacks out of the bowl sitting on Rikio's belly, Neirah dropped her head into his lap with a meek whimper. "Sorry, Wolf-kun, but you have no one to blame but yourself."

"Yata-san's beaten this game a hundred times," Rikio instigated coolly. "Bandō can't even get past the first level boss."

With his hands folded neatly behind his back, Tatara dipped to one side and peeked down to where Neirah was snuggled up comfortably on the couch using her thick companion as a pillow. "Ah, Nei-chan? When did we get a gaming system?"

She flopped onto her back and looked up at her best friend from behind the paw she used to stuff wasabi peas behind her lips. "Yata leant it to us, remember? He and Fushimi-san got the newer version and said we could have this one."

A low, entertained rumble filled Rikio's chest as he watched Saburōta's wrath turn to defeated sadness. "It's still pretty weird hearing you talk about Yata-san so casually," he teased. "Just a few months ago, I was pretty sure you two were never gonna get along."

Neirah reached up and swatted his bare shoulder beneath the sleeve of his snug t-shirt before stealing another handful of dried peas. "Don't be rude," she scolded. "It wasn't his fault he didn't know how to deal with a woman who would rather arson over shoe-shopping."

"Speaking of arson," Tatara interrupted instigatingly. "All this water wouldn't happen to be here because you were swimming out around the harbour when that warehouse mysteriously caught fire, would it?"

Neirah flopped over onto her side with her head still on Rikio's thigh as she nibbled away on her snacks. Her dim words muffled behind the casual munching, but Tatara could make out the essence of her denial. "I haven't the slightest what you're talking about." Because of her overall intelligence being a smidge above average, every time she feigned ignorance, it was ironic.

Tatara's posture slackened with defeat as he pulled out his phone and began to message Izumo. "That's pretty much what we thought," he proclaimed soundly. "Guess I'd better let Kusanagi-san know you all made it back in one piece."

"Tell him he should come over too!" Neirah encouraged fondly. With a soft, energetic squeal, she pulled out her PDA and began to scroll through the display. "Here, I'll message Chitose-kun! Let's have a party, Tat-chan! We've never hosted before!"

With a subtle crease in his brow, Rikio paused his crunching and gently flopped his hand against Neirah's forehead while she smiled into the illuminated screen of her phone between her hands. "Ah, shit," he muttered bleakly. With his free hand, he set the bowl of wasabi peas onto the table and shifted beneath her attentive gaze. "I was afraid of this."

Despite her protesting, he removed his palm from her brow and snatched her phone before she could send her message. "The last thing we need is more people here to figure out that you caught a fever," he commanded callously. Even as she batted at her mobile device to resist his teasing, Rikio flopped his arm over the couch and casually passed her PDA off to Tatara. "Here, keep this somewhere safe until she goes to sleep."

Tatara looked down at the two quarrelling on the couch for a moment with a vacant expression before a tender smile was lighting it up instead. Despite the flush of fever in Neirah's face, she was still smiling and laughing among her friends. If that wasn't the best medicine, he didn't know what was.

Growing frustrated with the game that only got harder as exhaustion started to weigh his gaze, Saburōta tossed the controller down and toppled onto the floor. "It's confirmed. I officially suck at everything."

Neirah moaned gently through her smile and reached down to comb his dark bangs from the face she could see once he removed his identity. "Give it here, Wolf-kun. Let me try."

"Fine," he surrendered sullenly. "But you can't show me up. It's bad for a man's pride, you know." Reluctantly, Rikio let Neirah slink down beside her defeated comrade to try her hand at the game they'd dug out upon their return.

As she scuttled to the floor next to him and straightened, she tremored like his words held impact. "So, I have to be bad at it because I'm a girl?"

Saburōta shook his head. "Nah, you just can't be better at it than me."

"So, she has to be bad at it," Rikio rumbled roguishly behind a crunchy mouthful of his reclaimed treat. When Tatara grew nearer to oversee the commotion, Rikio's tone lowered in his address. "The idiots jumped into the water when the building went up." He continued his announcement quietly the moment Tatara joined him on the couch. "Bandō seems to be alright, but Nē-chan's acting pretty loopy. It was a pain just getting her into something dry. All she wanted to do was finish whatever Kusanagi-san told her to do."

Tatara shifted his gaze down to the sight of a cast iron pot of tea sitting on the table, untouched by their hunter. "That's not good," he carefully noted. "You know she's sick when she doesn't drink her tea."

With an agreeing hum, Rikio nodded sombrely. "I thought it'd do her good to drink something warm, but all she seemed to want was cold tea and these." He held out the bowl of peas towards Tatara, who scooped out a handful before considering the unlikelihood of Neirah craving anything dry and spicy.

"That's strange," Tatara continued. "Dewa eats these kinds of things all the time, and when he offers, Neirah complains that they're too dry."

"She's been putting 'em away ever since we got back." Rikio returned his gaze to the sight of Saburōta while he grated over Neirah's ability to clear the first level of the game with ease. "Must be because she's burning up."

With a knowing smile, Tatara took up Neirah's phone and sent the message that she had been typing moments before. Afterwards, he turned back to face Rikio with a kind smile. "Kamamoto? Could you do me a favour and message Yata-chan?"

Rikio met Tatara's kindness with a gentle whir of inquiry. "Huh? What for?"

Tatara tipped his eager smile back towards the man with mischievous intent. "To invite him and Fushimi to the party, of course."

"No! That's wrong!" From where he was lying on his stomach next to Saburōta, Misaki snatched the controller out of his hands and began to play in his place. "Look, see? You gotta jump up here and then bomb the shit outta that thing on its head."

"How did you do that!?" Saburōta demanded irately. "You just jumped halfway up the screen!"

"Here! Watch the buttons I press."

"Man, do they intend on beating this whole game in one night?" Yō droned from behind the unlit cigarette he'd just popped between his lips. His tone grew slightly muffled as he spoke around the ivory stick. "They've been goin' at it non-stop, and the sad part is, Bandō's not gettin' any better."

"They didn't have much of a head start," Tatara playfully assured him. "I don't think Bandō's ever played this one."

"What does he do?" Yō instigated snidely. "He's sure as hell not spending all his free time pickin' up girls." With a devilish snicker, he slapped the back of his hand against Masaomi's chest to get his attention. "Oi, I'm goin' out for a bit, wanna come? Or are you cool watching the virgins dick around with that game?"

Withdrawing the lighter from his pocket to drop it in his friend's palm, Masaomi smirked and shook his head. "I'm good. Besides, I'm pretty sure Bandō's about to get his ass handed to him."

Yō shrugged before attempting to climb to his feet. "Suit yourself-"

Masaomi's once casual gaze widened when a flat grey blur lunged across the room to tackle Yō to the ground. It took him a while to comprehend what was happening until he leaned around the halved partition in the kitchen to see Yō on his back defending his cigarette against the lion that mounted him.

"Give it here, Chitose-kun," Neirah commanded sternly. "You need to stop smoking so much. It's going to make you sick."

"The hell? Where's this coming from?!" Yō defended edgily in defence of his recreational habits. From where he supported himself with one arm, the other pushed away greedy fingers as they attempted to liberate him of his poison. "You smoke too!"

Neirah gasped, the pigment in her cheeks flushing darker as her temper flared. "Chitose-kun, how could you!?"

Demonstrating his arrogant attitude, Yō closed his eyes and diverted his head to the side. "What? It's not like Mikoto-san or Kusanagi is here. Everyone else already knows." He snapped to attention when Neirah began to try and steal his package of cigarettes, but first, she had to find out which pocket he was keeping them in. With an urgent scramble, he kicked out his legs to try and shuffle away from her determination. "What the hell's gotten into you tonight? You've never tried to stop me before!"

From where he was watching around the corner of the partition, Masaomi began to snigger. "This is even more entertaining than watching Bandō suck at video games."

Ehn? Misaki turned away from his thorough instruction to the sound of Masaomi's low instigation. "Wait, what is?"

On the couch in front of the television, Tatara sat calmly between Rikio and Saruhiko. "Kamamoto, I know you said Neirah was acting a little strange, but that wouldn't happen to be because you tried to give her something for her fever, would it?"

Saruhiko watched the guilt immediately flood Rikio's face on the other side of the couch despite his lack of response. "Like she wasn't irrational enough."

From where he continued to observe his companion's peril, Masaomi swiftly rolled his hand in welcoming without taking his eyes off the spectacle. "No, this is great, seriously," he announced brightly. "Chitose's been after her for years, and now that he's finally getting her attention, he doesn't want it. Too bad Fujishima's parents always want him home early 'cause he'd get a kick out of this."

Misaki immediately sprang to his feet, his expression darkening with his rejection of Masaomi's news. "Is Chitose creeping on Tsukiyo again!?" He shoved up his sweater sleeve as he rounded the corner, preparing to go to war. "Alright, Chitose! Just 'cause Kusanagi-san's not here doesn't mean-"

It was Saburōta's turn to get involved when Misaki thumped to the ground on his backside behind him. He paused his game and turned over his shoulder to the sight of Misaki fleeing the kitchen like he'd just seen a ghost. "What's wrong, Yata?"

As soon as Misaki jumped to his feet, he immediately grabbed hold of Rikio's collar and jerked him from his seat on the couch. "You idiot! When you were tryin' to get Tsukiyo dried off, you didn't think to put fucking pants on her?!"

"Sorry!" Rikio chattered guiltily. "It was tough to get her to cooperate, and my sweater was long enough, so I thought it'd be okay!"

Misaki released him with one of his hands, his face burning with bashful heat. He immediately threw out his second hand to point at the sight of Neirah's panties flashing while she struggled against their fellow clansman. "That is not okay! That is the exact opposite of okay!"

As Tatara watched conflict break out between his guests, he meekly raised his hands in hopes of quelling the storm before the cramped studio began to crumble beneath their violence. "Ah, guys? Maybe we shouldn't fight indoors."

"Stupid Bakamoto! Who's the bigger pervert here?!"

"Come on, Yata-san! You know it wasn't like that! I was just tryin' to help!"

"Did anyone ever think that maybe Tsukiyo just needs to take some pills and go to bed?" Saruhiko interrupted dryly from his spot on the edge of the couch.

Despite being held out of place by Misaki, Rikio tilted his guilty gaze towards Saruhiko's suggestion. "Yeah, we did," he admitted docilely. "We gave her some, but then she started acting weird all of a sudden."

There was an outraged flash in Misaki's gaze as he dropped Rikio back into his seat with a look of instant mortification twisting his face. "H-hold on. How many did you give her?!"

Rikio diverted his attention, rubbing his nape sheepishly as he started to fold out fingers to count. "Ah, I dunno. A couple…?"

With a furious roar, Misaki threw his finger out towards the sight of Neirah and Yō while they flailed around the kitchen. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?! Look at the size of her!" He slammed his balled fist down against the top of Rikio's head hard enough to rattle the entire room with his recoil. "Are you tryin' to kill Tsukiyo?! You shoulda just called me in the first place!"

"Why!?" Rikio whined while clasping his head. "How the heck was I supposed to know that?!"

"Great," Saruhiko muttered bleakly to himself. "So, not only is she sick, she's high on painkillers too."

Misaki's expression dropped to consider the entire ordeal. "This's somehow all Bandō's fault, I just know it," he growled beneath his breath.

"Why is everything always my fault!?"

Suddenly, the entire room startled to the sound of Neirah's disapproving scream, and moments later, Chitose was standing with the defiant woman slung over his shoulder. His expression was irritated as he steadied her squirming waist with one hand, using the other to adjust his prize between his teeth. "Alright, seeing as none of you bastards thought to help, I'm gonna need more than one of these," he growled. "Which one of you wants to babysit?"

Before anyone could accept or refuse the invitation, he strode towards the couch and dropped the flailing woman across three laps, figuring that someone in the line would take responsibility for her vulnerable state. "You comin', Dewa?"

Masaomi chuckled and slowly climbed to his feet. "Okay, yeah, that was worth it." He dropped his hand on Misaki's shoulder with a roguish smile. "She's all yours."

Trying to stop the room from spinning wasn't easy as Neirah rolled over in Rikio's lap and watched her prey leave to do what she'd commanded him not to. "I've lost my edge," she murmured despairingly against Rikio's thigh. "What happened to the days when I could just look at him, and he'd listen?"

"Don't talk like that, Nē-chan," Rikio inadvertently begged. The last thing they needed was for their lion to become emotional in her vulnerable state. "You'll be right as rain soon enough and then it'll be payback time."

With a desperate whimper, Neirah kicked out her feet behind her, beating Saruhiko's lap repeatedly at the end of the couch with her frustrations.

"Oi, cut that out," Saruhiko rumbled intolerantly. "This is partially your fault too."

"I know!" she shouted sadly.

Misaki was livid that his clumsy clanmates were unable to make sure that Neirah was adequately cared for before she found herself overdosed on medicine to help a fever that might not have been that bad in the first place. She seemed trapped in a permanent form of the overtired stage just before a crash.

With a disapproving growl, he tilted his gaze back to where Rikio was trying to calm her down. "Lemme guess, she hasn't eaten yet either. That's probably why the drugs knocked her on her ass, huh?"

Looking guiltier by the minute, Rikio groaned and looked into his empty bowl of wasabi peas. "She had some snacks, but-"

"She's not gonna get better if all she eats is peas!" Misaki commanded sternly. "She's gonna need real food!"

"But… She said she wasn't hungry…"

"Baka! Nobody wants to eat when they're sick!"

"But I-!"

"You don't count, fatass!" Diverting his vacant gaze towards the ceiling, Misaki let a low groan fill his chest. "I hope Mikoto-san beats the crap outta both of you for this," he announced dimly. "But if he doesn't, I'm sure Kusanagi-san will."

Turning his restless fury towards Tatara, Misaki's tone mildly softened. "Totsuka-san, what does Tsukiyo like to eat when she's sick?"

Tatara diverted his gaze in thought for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm not sure. This is the first time I think I've ever seen her like this."

His demeanour didn't shift as he closed his eyes, but Misaki reached out a second time and slammed his fist into Rikio's head. "I get that," he continued lowly. "What about when she's cold, then? Tsukiyo hates the cold."

"When she has a bad day, she usually comes home and drinks a whole pot of sencha tea and makes white miso soup with lots of shitake mushrooms."

Misaki blinked back at him while maintaining his blank expression. "Huh, kinda specific. But I guess you do live with her." After taking a quiet moment to consider their sickly companion, he crouched by the side of the couch in hopes of stirring her attention out of Rikio's lap. "Hey, Tsukiyo?" Once Neirah had slowly turned her tired gaze to face him, he continued with a reassuring smile. "We're gonna make you somethin' to eat, okay? But you gotta eat it, or you're not gonna get better."

Luckily, she was a little too dozy to notice, but that was the first time since they'd met that her gaze didn't scare Misaki's away. It might have been her vulnerable state, or maybe the strength of the relationship they were able to forge, but either way, she wasn't coherent enough to appreciate it.

When Misaki straightened, he encouraged Tatara to sneak out from beneath Neirah's centre. "Alright, Totsuka-san! Just tell us what you need done!"

"I don't know if we have everything we need to make it," Tatara sadly murmured as he climbed out of the couch's middle. "I know for a fact that we don't have any mushrooms left. We've been eating at Kusanagi-san's bar a lot recently, so we haven't been shopping for a while..."

Rikio was quick to interject, climbing to his feet and settling Neirah back on the cushions in his absence. "That's okay! I think my mom's got some at home! I could probably get a few from there pretty quick."

"Now that's using your head!" Misaki encouraged spiritedly. "What else, Totsuka?! We can send Chitose and Dewa to the store if we need to!"

"Well, she likes leek in her soup too, but…"

Saburōta quickly scampered to his feet, eager to offer his help as well. "Kusanagi-san's probably still back at HOMRA with Anna and King, right? I could go borrow some from him!"

"No way!" Misaki ordered impatiently. "It's your job to put pants on Tsukiyo, seeing as this is all your fault."

"E-ehn!? How is it my fault!?"

With a delighted chuckle, Tatara dismissed the prattling boys' worrisome concerns. "Don't worry about that. While we wait for you two to come back with the ingredients we need for soup, I can find Nei-chan some pants."

"Awesome!" Misaki eagerly cheered. "Just make us up a list, and we'll take care of the rest, okay!?"

Saruhiko watched out of the corner of his eye as their gathering prepared to depart so they could scramble together the ingredients needed to take care of their sick huntress. It didn't surprise him that Misaki was the one to take control of the project. He might not have understood the woman as well as he would have liked, but he was quite skilled at caring for people who needed his help. It was the last thing Saruhiko wanted to think about during their visit.

His elbow sunk into the couch arm, and the side of his face rested in his palm. At first, he was busy looking out the frosty windowpane, but soon, the clutter scattered around the apartment attracted his gaze. It was the first time he'd ever visited Tatara and Neirah's home because usually, their social gatherings would take place at Izumo's bar.

Interrupting his thoughts, he grunted lowly to the feeling of Neirah fidgeting on the couch, raising the toes of one of her feet to poke his shoulder. He tilted his gaze, watching her feet wriggle as she gently encouraged his attention. Looking from her polished digits to the gentle smile on her face didn't change the harshness of his expression as their friends dispersed on Misaki's command. "What?" he demanded flatly.

"I'm sick," she murmured coyly with a playful grin.

Saruhiko's expression didn't alter as he diverted it. "So what?"

Neirah couldn't keep her smile from broadening as she poked him a couple more times to reclaim his attention. "I bet I could be really annoying when I'm like this."

Tatara proudly smiled as Misaki took their list and delegated its contents between their five eager clanmates, his smile unmovable. He made sure to track all the details in case Neirah didn't remember them the next morning because he felt like it was vital for her to know how much everyone cared.

When he turned to consider Neirah's indecent state of dress and a possible remedy, he paused in the kitchen to the sight of Neirah curled up in Rikio's sweater against the couch arm with Saruhiko lazily stroking the arches of her feet as he stared out the window. His tender expression flooded with warmth. Every day that passed seemed to bring everyone closer, and the smiles were brighter. Despite their developing rivalry with the Blue Clan, he was thankful for their revival because it meant that they could share the workload. In the end, it allowed HOMRA to spend more time together, and it was those memories that would keep that bright smile in their hearts for years to come.