Kaishaku

July 24th, 2010

From where Misaki sat with his head resting in his folded arms against the table, his vexed leer narrowed on the sight of Rikio walking through the bar entrance with a heavy suitcase in his arms. Once he was out of sight, Misaki's gaze snapped back toward the sound of the door opening a second time. His eyes tapered even thinner to watch Neirah wheel a medium-sized suitcase on the same path that Rikio had walked, disappearing into the back shortly after him.

"Anna-chan, wait! I'll get the door!"

Suddenly, Misaki's unenthusiastic demeanour snapped his slack posture back to life when he jolted his attention to the sight of Anna struggling to make her way through the doorway with what appeared to be Neirah's carry-on luggage. Even though it was the smallest piece, it was still difficult for the delicate Strain to manage on her own, no matter how helpful she was trying to be.

Misaki quickly scampered to his feet to the sound of Anna's exasperated grunts, and before Tatara could push past her to open up the door, Misaki had done it for her. "Here, Anna-chan, let me get that, alright?" Despite what seemed to be her resistance, Misaki retrieved the bag from her arms, nearly toppling over in surprise for the weight present in the burgundy duffle. "Gah! What the hell is even in this thing?!" He slung the article over his shoulder with a dismal groan, watching Anna trod off after Neirah and Rikio as Tatara joined them at HOMRA's headquarters.

Tatara's smile was cheerful as he took Misaki's side, sensing unrest within his younger clansman as wary hazel eyes watched Neirah clasp Anna's hands to cheer for their success. "I guess Nei-chan did a lot of shopping that night you ran into Okazaki and those blue clansmen," he calmly theorized. "Of course, she wanted to take all of it with her, plus her snacks, and her jacket, even though she doesn't plan on wearing it around her father."

"Comin' through." Izumo clasped the boys' heads and parted them in front of the doorway so he could slip by, quick to shoo them away from the entrance with an irritable groan. "Pick somewhere else to chat, boys," he commanded smoothly. "Some of us have work to do."

Emitting a light growl, Misaki waddled over towards the table he had claimed to pout on before dropping the duffle onto its centre. After flopping into his reclaimed seat, he heaved a frustrated sigh and glared at the article as if it had somehow done him an offence. "Jeez, why do girls gotta pack everything they own when they go somewhere?" He batted absently at the HOMRA charm dangling from the bag's zipper before snorting his impatience with the entire situation.

"She is going for over a month," Yō reasoned upon admitting he was eavesdropping. Misaki didn't startle when Yō dropped his arm around the boy's shoulders, encouraging the two to examine the duffle and imagine what it contained. It wasn't hard to tell that the two held very different expectations. "You can't expect a lady to wear the same outfit twice. Especially when she looks good in anything."

"That's the point," Misaki argued. "So why does it matter what she wears? What makes Nagasaki so special?"

Despite the taunting of his friends mocking Misaki for his resistance over her departure, he couldn't be bothered by it. He'd had a bad feeling since the day she announced that she would be making the trip, and ever since, she'd begun to change. It wasn't an overly obvious one. It was actually quite apparent to him that a lot of his comrades either hadn't noticed or didn't care, and either way, he was frustrated. He just couldn't escape a sense of foreboding that warned him the woman he'd finally gotten used to having around was going to return to them differently, somehow – or not at all.

Watching her smile as she chatted with Rikio, the way she rudely stuck her tongue out at Izumo for pestering her over trivialities, everything about the way she was seemed just fine to him. The way she neglected to style her wild mane didn't estrange her beauty, and the way her unpainted lashes framed her cunning leer was attractive enough around bright eyes, so it irritated him to think that half of the weight staggering their little Strain was probably makeup. Maybe she was a bit rough around the edges at times, but he'd finally gotten used to it. He'd learned to respect that she wasn't quite what he had expected.

But then he had to humble himself before the sight of lively colours flickering within cerulean irises. He'd seen things there that he wished he hadn't; something that she locked away and refused to show the rest of them. They were things like weakness, fear, and tender affection that shone through occasionally when she was enamoured by their companionship, feelings that she clearly felt were taboo.

Though, he couldn't blame her for feeling that way after the way he'd acted upon their introductions. He was convinced from the beginning that a girl had no place among them, so it was natural for him to feel guilty when he considered that she was hiding a part of her to save face. What he wanted to know was why she had to go all the way to Nagasaki to release the pressure he watched build over her last semester at school. He couldn't comprehend why it was so difficult to accept that those feelings were just as much a part of her as any other.

"You've got that stupid look on your face again."

Misaki nearly jumped out of his skin when he was joined by Saruhiko, whose low drone was filled with intolerance. "Don't just sneak up on me like that! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

Saruhiko snorted and rolled his eyes before connecting gazes with his riled cohort. "You say that like I haven't been standing here for the last five minutes waiting for you to snap out of it." After peeking the sight of Neirah going over the next morning's schedule with Izumo, his gaze darkened skeptically. "Don't worry, Misaki," he instigated beneath his breath. "I'm sure there are plenty of other women out there just as messed up as Tsukiyo is."

Misaki's face immediately screwed up with humiliation. "B-baka! You make it sound like she's not comin' back!"

Despite his overall judgement of the situation, Saruhiko couldn't help letting a wry smirk twist his lips up to one side upon considering Misaki's display. "Funny, you focus more on that than the thought of me insinuating that you're going to miss her when she's gone."

Tossing his balled fists by his side, Misaki elevated his voice commandingly. "Of course, I'm gonna miss her! Tsukiyo's our friend, isn't she?! So, yeah! It's gonna suck not having her around!" He immediately snapped his molars together to grind when he realized that his hands were beginning to quake. No matter how passionately he wanted to ignore the hints that Saruhiko was dropping, he couldn't deny the foreboding, cautioning him that night would be the last night they'd be together.

He lowered his gaze worrisomely, hating how quiet the room around him had become after he'd gone and made a fool out of himself. "I mean… think of all the cool stuff she's gonna miss this summer… And it's gotta be hard for her to see her dad when he's sick knowing we're not gonna be there to cheer her up…"

Realizing that Misaki's little outburst had drawn more attention than Saruhiko had bargained for made him uneasy. He wanted to snap his irritated retort, Annoying. You're annoying her, Misaki. She doesn't need you. She doesn't need anybody. That's why she's leaving. Instead, he offered a dim scoff and diverted his gaze, trying to keep it from meeting the intensity of Neirah's unspoken advice commanding him not to instigate the situation.

Nearby, Tatara heaved a weary sigh, his smile sad even as he attempted to keep it on his face. "That's the thing, isn't it?" he strategically interrupted. They had been trying their best not to rouse the subject for a while, realizing that it wasn't going to be easy for Neirah to talk about, but with the lion out of the bag, he felt like it was something needing to be addressed. "I don't think it's easy for any of us. We're just so used to being there for each other."

Saruhiko just stared at the floor, keeping his face locked in a void position to avoid outwardly gagging on Tatara's sentiment. As grating as Neirah could be, he couldn't imagine how she managed to live with that man. In his eyes, Tatara was like a virus, infecting everyone around him with this false sense of hopeful security. Everything was going to be okay because friendship changes the world. It took all Saruhiko had not to retch at the thought. No wonder Neirah needed to escape.

The silence was growing uncomfortable, so Neirah dropped her sheepish gaze from where it had encouraged silence out of Saruhiko, her expression fading nervously. "Please don't, Tat-chan," she whispered. "I've done really well not to dwell on it too much over the last few months." She slowly shook her head. "So, if it's okay, I don't want to start the night before the plane leaves."

Izumo smiled quietly to himself, trying his hardest not to let the sour mood in his bar affect him too. "Listen to you guys, getting all bent outta shape," he teased. "Where's your faith in our hunter, huh? She'll be just fine." He wished Neirah's eyes hadn't looked so sad when she raised them to connect with his like they were already begging his forgiveness. Even still, he met the disappointment with a kind smile, promising that they weren't going to give up on her.

With gentle fingers, Anna reached up and tugged on Izumo's shirt, her big eyes kind as they awaited his attention. "Hm? What is it Anna-chan?"

"Onē-san is staying over so you can drive her to the airport early in the morning."

"That's right," Izumo agreed. "Why? Did you want to come? Her flight leaves pretty early."

Tilting her face and closing her eyes, Anna slowly shook her head in denial. "No. I thought that maybe everyone could stay to help Onē-san forget how nervous she is."

"Like a sleepover!?" Tatara's expression was livening contagiously with his lifting spirits. "What a great idea, Anna-chan!" he cheered. "I was intending on sticking around anyway, but the more, the merrier!"

Izumo's expression brightened. "Well, now, that's not a bad idea at all," he hummed proudly. He raised his gaze to examine the still bar around him to pose his invitation. "D' you boys hear that? Anna-chan thinks we should have a sleepover right here tonight. Only rule is, you can't talk about Nagasaki."

Surprising everyone, Kōsuke was the first to offer his acceptance to Anna's cunning suggestion. "It's the weekend, so my parents shouldn't mind if I stay out." He rarely got to spend nights with their group because of his curfew, but he seemed pretty confident that he could make it work.

After catching the nervous fidgeting of Yō by his side, Masaomi smirked and cocked his head to one side. "We didn't have any plans either."

"Shit," Yō groaned nervously. "Not only is Kusanagi-san gonna be supervising, but I can't smoke when Nē-chan's around."

Saburōta cut his gaze behind his sunglasses towards Yō's irrational griping. "Idiot, it's not about you. It's about makin' Onē-san feel better." It had been a few months since his last attempt, so when Saburōta bopped Yō on the top of his head, he was quick to recoil like he might be attacked in return.

Surprisingly enough, though, Yō didn't do much more than rub his assaulted cranium with a defeated sigh. "Yeah, guess you're right..."

Saburōta immediately straightened with a look that was way too gratified for such a trivial success. "Damn right, I am," he announced proudly.

Rikio nodded his approval with his hands folded over his chest, his smile broadening with encouragement. "Anna-chan's right," he concurred soundly. "Besides, this is the last time we're gonna see Nē-chan this summer, so we gotta make the best of it!"

By his side, Neirah reached out and poked his belly with a tender smile. "You mean I have to enjoy you while there's still some of you to enjoy?"

A sheepish Rikio tossed one hand back behind his head with an uneasy laugh, his other rubbing the area she'd assaulted. "But in a less suggestive way, I think."

"That's right." Izumo was careful to address both comments with the duality of his own, casting Rikio a glower that made the man sweat out the suggestive interactions. "Because as soon as she gets back, she'll be hitting the books to catch up on all the homework I couldn't force her to do over the break."

"Like that ever helped before," Mikoto added slyly. "Even if you constantly remind her right here in town, it's still things like this that keep her from getting anything done."

From across the room, Misaki's face lit up eagerly. "Mikoto-san, you're going to be here too?"

Mikoto flopped his head towards Misaki instead of Izumo, a lazy smile painted calmly over his lethargic expression. "Where else would I be?"

Misaki wriggled with excitement before his demeanour was livening with enthusiasm. "Awesome! Count us in!"

Tsk.

Whirling on his heels, Misaki glowered at Saruhiko from beneath a knotted brow. He had been close enough to catch the sound of Saruhiko quietly grinding his teeth like he was the only one resisting the suggestion. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…"

"Nothing?" Misaki pried. "What's gotten into you lately? You always-"

"Fushimi-san?" HOMRA's vanguard immediately shot their combined attention to where Neirah approached with an inviting, yet, somewhat vulnerable smile on her face. "I forgot something back at my apartment. Would you care to accompany me there to retrieve it?"

Saruhiko's expression flattened with his tone. "Go get it yourself."

"Fushimi!?" Misaki threw his hands up with a violent hiss of surrender. "Whatever, fine, be that way!" Turning to face Neirah's tender expression caused Misaki's tone to soften accordingly, helping to converse with her properly. "I'll keep you company if you want. Seein' how Saruhiko's bein' a dick right now."

Neirah's smile broadened slightly, but her eyes remained distant and fixed on Saruhiko's attempt at denial. "Sorry, Yata. But I would really like to take this moment to speak with Fushimi-san before I leave." Her focus didn't falter when Saruhiko shuddered in surprise, and possibly disgust, at the request emitting more like a continuation of her previous warning.

"E-eh?!" With a mortified blush in his cheeks, Misaki turned to face Saruhiko before returning his hesitant observation towards the woman by his side. His growl was depressed, a little humiliated, and a lot rejected. "If you say so… But I don't think-"

"Fine."

Misaki's face was bound with bemusement as he whirled towards his temperamental friend. "Sure, now you care. After I already said I'd do it!"

Stepping past Misaki, Saruhiko scoffed indifferently to his friend's display of ire. "Don't worry. I have no interest in trying to steal your girlfriend from you."

Continuing to stomp around, Misaki thrashed until he hoped that nobody could see how red his face had become with embarrassment. "Oi! I told you to cut that shit out!"

Ignoring Misaki's heated tantrum, Saruhiko let his gaze lock with the intensity of Neirah's. "You and Totsuka don't live far, right?"

Neirah could appreciate the thinly veiled contempt in his tone, sugar coating his resistance more than she'd expected. "This won't take long."

Misaki's stomach was in knots as he was, once again, abandoned by his best friend and the woman who repeatedly denied that there was anything happening between them. He wanted to chase after them, demand that they tell him the truth about what was happening, but Saruhiko's warning was causing his feet to lock. The last thing he wanted to do was annoy her when she was bravely preparing to face the challenge ahead. It confused him to feel as if what Saruhiko said was right, and she didn't need anybody else, it was misplaced for her to be sad about leaving.

What was worse was that he still couldn't shake the tone in Saruhiko's voice over the past few weeks passing along a subtle warning that something wasn't right about Neirah's impending vacation. Questions raced thought his head, such as what would happen if she got herself into trouble in Nagasaki. When he first met the woman, Misaki wanted to believe that she was a ruthless killer, but a savage creature of blood and battle wouldn't yearn to comfort her father in his dying days. She wouldn't flash signs of fear in her eyes when she considered stepping away from the home that she'd found in HOMRA. But most importantly, he hadn't once heard her assure anyone that she would return.

His gaze narrowed on the sight of her leaving with Saruhiko, walking so far away from his side that someone unknowingly might assume that they were just two people passing in the same direction. He just hoped that route would lead them both back to HOMRA before the night was done.

"Hey, Yata-san!" Rikio called out enthusiastically. He passed by where Kōsuke was on his phone, explaining the situation to his parents back home. "Bandō and I are gonna go grab some snacks from the store while Totsuka and Kusanagi-san turn the back room into a movie theatre. Wanna come?"

Hnh? Misaki unenthusiastically turned to face their eager smiles, but he couldn't shake the apprehension from his expression. "Uh, sure, I guess."

"Chitose, I'm serious now," Izumo cautioned strictly. "Anna-chan is going to be watching them with us, so only pick out decent movies appropriate for someone her age. Maybe something with a big red dog in it."

Yō was wrought with tension as he considered the way his evening was shaping up to execute. "You're kidding, right?"

"That doesn't leave us with a lot of options, does it?" Masaomi instigated. "Isn't she ten or something?"

"Nine, I think," Yō muttered through his teeth with a cigarette pinched between. "At least until December."

Impatience flashed in Masaomi's expression as he watched Yō raise their lighter to the tip of his toxin. "You're really gonna try this? When we all agreed to help make Nē-chan feel better?"

After lighting his smoke, Yō snapped the lighter shut and tossed it blindly towards his friend for him to catch against his chest. "Dewa, I'm spendin' my Saturday night sleeping over at a bar that I can't drink at, supervised by the scariest chaperone known to man, next to a beautiful woman that I can't touch, and watching a buncha kid movies." He shifted his sharp russet gaze towards his friend before offering him his open pack of cigarettes.

After only momentary consideration, Masaomi snorted and pulled out a cigarette from the box.

"S' what I thought." Yō quietly tucked the box back into his pocket before exhaling his first settling puff. "Man, I can't wait 'til October."

Masaomi leaned back and tipped his sardonic grin back towards the sight of his companions' distant thoughts. "You know, you could always go out without me, and I'd be okay with that."

With a quiet snort, Yō lowered his gaze in consideration before tipping an impish smirk towards Masaomi. "Sounds like a drag, if you ask me."

In the back, Izumo had pulled out a couple of boxes containing an assortment of jumbled cables heaped in a layer of dust. With a haggard cough, he passed one of them off to Mikoto and dusted his hand in front of his face to banish the remainder floating in the air. "I'm pretty sure I have a projector in here somewhere. We can hook it up to the player and just pin a sheet to the wall or somethin'."

Tatara smiled brightly with a delighted cheer as he started going through the various electronics, clumsily tangling himself in the wires in the process. "Oh wow! Look at all this! Kusanagi-san, you have so many neat things in here!"

Izumo folded his arms over his chest with a curt snort. "Yep. S' why I wrote 'junk' on the boxes."

Upon poking his head into the room to attract Izumo's attention, Kōsuke quietly addressed the commotion. "I just got off the phone with my parents, and they said it was fine. Is there anything you want me to do to help get ready?"

Tipping his fond smile over his shoulder, Izumo nodded and approached the exit. "Yeah, actually, there is." Before leaving the three pirates behind to plunder his useless equipment, Izumo cast them a parting glance. "We'll be out front if you need us."

Anna and Tatara had been too focused on their mission, so Mikoto was the one to wave his hand casually towards his second. Izumo met the effort with a wave of his own and then disappeared around the corner.

Flashing eyes wide with wonder, Anna crept towards Tatara's treasure hunt, peeking curiously into the box alongside him as Mikoto set the next beside it and started to shift the furniture around. She immediately turned her attention towards Mikoto's offering, and when she did, a startled gasp met her lips as she quickly climbed to her feet to scamper towards his delivery.

Huh? Tatara turned over his shoulder to face where Anna had retreated in a fluster, a curious expression twisting his gentle features. "Ah? What did you find, Anna-chan? Is it the projector?"

Anna slowly climbed back up from where she'd knelt next to the box and shook her head. "No. But I found this." She held out an old movie reel in front of her, her ruby eyes shining with interest. "This disc looks like what your new camera has in it, but this one is damaged."

Tatara's face was enlightened with eager interest. "You're right!" he gasped. "That must mean that Kusanagi-san has a device capable of playing them!"

Mikoto looked down at the two rummaging through dust and cables as if they'd just dug up some deep-sea treasure. "So?" he rumbled bluntly. "How is that gonna help us set up movies?"

Tatara popped back out of the box with another water-damaged reel, his expression rosy with anticipation. "Well, it's not going to help right now, but I've been trying to find a projector for my camera now that I've started taking so many recordings. Nobody seems to have one." A delighted squeal caught behind his teeth as he pulled a few more pieces away from the box to uncover a functional projection unit. "Eureka! Anna-chan, you did it! You found exactly what I needed!"

A dull groan rattled in the Red King's chest as he watched the two dance around in triumph. Of course, when he said two, he meant Anna twirled slightly with a mildly relaxed expression as Tatara energetically leapt around her like a fool. "Could you two at least try to stay focussed?"

Slouched over while meandering lazily through the streets after his friends wasn't Misaki's usual style, but his thoughts had grown distant as his arm clutched his skateboard by his side. Rikio and Saburōta were fine enough company for each other, from what he could tell by their noisy laughter. They were pretty excited about the thought of spending the night with the rest of their friends, but Misaki was still facing the dread of a graver concern that he felt like none of them were acknowledging.

Maybe he did tend to overanalyze and end up making the situation worse for himself, but Neirah was right. He was somebody who cared about his friends. Now that he had a home full of them, he wanted to protect it, protect them. His lot in life had greatly improved since he'd met Suoh Mikoto, and he was happy. They all were. And to lose someone from their circle… that would make them sad.

"Yo, Yata!" Saburōta suddenly interrupted the quiet vanguard's thoughts with a boisterous holler. "What's gotten into you? You were super excited back at the bar, but now, you seem totally bummed out."

"You're not worried about Neirah, are you?" Rikio carefully meddled. "I know she seems pretty down right now, but she'll be okay. She's got this."

Saburōta seemed intrigued when he turned to face Rikio with a disgruntled expression beneath dark sunglasses. "Yeah, I meant to ask, when did you two get so close?"

Rikio seemed startled by the accusation in Saburōta's tone. "Hah? What do you mean by that?"

Scoffing impatiently, Saburōta hitched one hand on his hip as the other flopped out nonchalantly beside him. "Aside from Totsuka-san, you're the only one she calls by their first name. Hell, I have a hard enough time getting her to call me by a name I got. She's always makin' up stuff all on her own."

Rikio seemed flustered by what he perceived as an accusatory tone on Saburōta's tongue. "T-that's not true! There's Anna-chan too!"

With a dull snort, Saburōta diverted his attention and flapped his hand out dismissively. "Yeah, but Anna doesn't count."

Cocking a brow with piqued interest, Rikio let his sound examination consider Saburōta's provocation. "Wait, where're you goin' with this?"

Rotating to face Rikio a second time, Saburōta's tone hardened matter-of-factly. "I'm just sayin'. You guys seem close. Like Onē-san and Totsuka-san close. But when she realized she left somethin' behind tonight, she asked Fushimi to go with her to get it, not you or Totsuka-san."

From where he watched the sidewalk by his feet, Misaki's eyes widened, and his heart rate began to thunder against his chest. He was right. So, the others have noticed it too now, he mused hesitantly.

"I was just curious." Saburōta tossed his arms out to either side of him in an indifferent shrug. "Seemed strange to me that even with all of us there, she picked him, don't you think?"

Seemingly startled and slightly amused by his companion's theory, Rikio tried to laugh it off despite cautiously considering his implications. "Real funny," he mocked. "Even if Neirah was interested in someone like that, it would definitely be one-sided. Fushimi's pretty hard to get along with for any of us, much less a girl with a crush. Hell, Yata-san is the only one he actually seems to tolerate." He diverted his gaze towards the streetlights and gave his blushing cheek a soft scritch. "Hah… Yeah, there's just no way. Even just thinking about Neirah dating is weird, but did you really need to go and put that image in my head?"

"That's why I asked," Saburōta hummed. "I thought it was pretty suspicious."

After becoming wry in expression, Rikio's grin curled as he tapered his accusing leer on his ally. "Besides, I thought you said you were going to marry Nē-chan when she turned thirty. And what was your kid's name going to be again? It started with an A, right?"

Not only had that caused Saburōta to choke on his next words, but the man nearly toppled onto the pavement at their feet. When he whirled to face Rikio with a livid roar, the burly man could peek shades of crimson showing through beneath his unrequired sunglasses. "Sh-! We said we weren't ever gonna talk about that night again!"

"Sorry, but you started it," Rikio teased drolly. "And I think the only reason Kusanagi-san let you off the hook was that he was so relieved she was okay."

A meek groan rattled in Saburōta's chest as he straightened and pouted his humiliation. "If Yata didn't rescue her, it would've been all my fault that she-" He suddenly gave his head a violent shake. "But I didn't mean to say I was gonna marry her!"

"Yeah, that was awkward," Rikio agreed. "I mean, how do you accidentally name your firstborn daughter? Talk about creepy. I still can't believe how wasted you were, and then to find out Anna-chan started it?" A low, rumbling laugh interrupted his thoughts. "It's a good thing Nē-chan has such a good sense of humour."

Saburōta's expression deadpanned with the utter offence. "So, I'm just a joke to her, huh…?"

Enlightened by the sudden adjustment in their conversation, Rikio turned over his shoulder with a bright smile. "Oi, Yata-san! What do you think? Did Fushimi steal Neirah away from Bandō?"

The pair stilled stopping in their tracks to realize that somewhere along the way, Misaki had vanished. They scoured the streets, combing over the still structures in hopes that he hadn't run off too far, but it seemed like they were too late to notice. "W-whoa, he's gone," Rikio murmured. "When did that happen? I didn't even hear him leave."

With a stifled shriek, Saburōta sank his fingers into his hood against the top of his head and ground his teeth. "Not again! Why does everyone get kidnapped when they're with me!?"

Rikio's expression dropped to imply his impatience. "Do you really think anyone could kidnap Yata quietly?"

"Onē-san's right… I'm cursed…"

"You're somethin'…"

It felt like the harder Misaki's feet hit the pavement, the less contact he had with the ground. It wasn't always easy for him to figure things out, and sometimes he came to wrong conclusions, but that didn't stop his heart from racing to the thought that he'd stumbled upon the meaning in Neirah's departure.

Things always got strange when Neirah and Saruhiko were together, and this wasn't the first time that Misaki had been suspicious. But the thought of Saruhiko's rejection scaring their hunter all the way to Nagasaki had to be proven a false theory. No matter how many times he considered their interactions, Saruhiko's ominous promise that she wouldn't return, he kept coming up with the same conclusion. He was worried that she was escaping Shizume City with a broken heart.

Keeping his gaze locked on the road ahead, Saruhiko obediently accompanied Neirah through the city streets that night, but not in the direction of her apartment. The truth was that neither of them seemed to really know where they were going, only where they weren't. At first, he thought that she was biding her time, but after careful consideration, he realized that maybe she hadn't known what she wanted to say to begin with.

"Well?" he interrupted exaltedly. "Are you going to talk or just lead me around in circles all night?"

"Here I thought you might be flattered," she retaliated. That was how she considered their conversations, like small battles fighting to decide the outcome of a war. "I wanted it to be you because I need honesty in my life right now, not optimism."

He ground his molars and swung his head to one side in an involuntary tick. As grateful as he was that Tatara hadn't managed to destroy her with his viral camaraderie, he still wasn't interested in taking the man's place. "If this is about your dad, look, if there's one thing I could care even less about than-"

"It has nothing to do with my father," she admitted bluntly. She waited for the silence to resume between them, keeping her eyes fixed on their progression through the city even when she felt his vexed expression fall on her. "It's true. I'm curious," she admitted. "This is going to go one of two ways. Either I'm going to show up to hold his hand, and he's going to die, or I'll finally learn that I'm truly cursed, and he will live on for many years to come in complete agony."

The intensity in Saruhiko's expression softened imperceivably for a moment in consideration as she took their conversation to a dark place.

"But that's not really why I'm going, and that's not why you're here," she nearly whispered. "I actually feel like we might share the same aversion to complicated feelings."

Saruhiko's teeth clicked as he ground them around the sound of his irritated hiss, his feet ceasing to move beneath him anymore. "Leave me out of your damn problems," he growled. "If we're here to come to some kind of common ground, I'm not interested." In his opinion, their relationship was fine the way it was, and far more interesting when they were at odds.

Stopping a step ahead of him, Neirah tipped her unwavering gaze over her shoulder to where she could face his aggressive stance. "Fushimi-san, I surrendered that hope a long time ago," she reasoned curtly. "It's true that I don't dislike you; in fact, you fascinate me. But I'm not interested in fighting my way into your world when I have two of my own to contend with."

"Then what?" he commanded. "That doesn't explain why you dragged me all the way out here to talk about your problems."

"They're your problems too," she challenged. After lowering her gaze upon silencing him, her expression softened dismally. "For as long as we're red clansmen, there is always going to be a group of rowdy men trying to pry into our business." She raised her eyes beneath dark lashes to lock their gazes. "No?"

The instigation caused Saruhiko to stiffen hesitantly, and he wished he had something to say to refute the truth in her statement.

"I don't mind, for the most part, but I feel like soon, they're going to find something that they aren't going to like." She turned away from him entirely before murmuring her weak admittance for the first time since she'd been stricken with the realization. "And that terrifies me."

He didn't want to pry. He wanted her to stop talking and admit that they could finally return to the bar at their heels because she was destroying his expectations of her. The only thing he hated more than being surrounded by the raucous delinquents that she spoke about was being alone with her and her complicated feelings. He loved that she was independent, that she didn't need to rely on anyone. He'd talked her up to Misaki repeatedly, only now to be faced with the heartbreaking reality that there was a chance she had a heart beneath her thick skin. What he was hearing was a betrayal, and he rejected it.

But curiosity was a powerful thing, so he gave her one last chance to avoid letting him down. "What do you think they'll find?"

From where she'd diverted herself, Neirah closed her eyes and heaved a miserable sigh. "A woman," she admitted softly. "A delicate heart, kind eyes, the desire to love and be loved. All the things that you saw from the start and hated me for from the very beginning."

He felt his neck muscles contract like he wanted to shake his head, trying to wrap his thoughts around her delusions unsuccessfully. At first, it sickened him to be so misinterpreted, and then, it entertained him until he started to chuckle under his breath, no matter how strange Neirah's expression contorted to hear him do so for the first time in her presence. "And here I thought you might've had something in that empty head of yours," he mocked dryly. "Then, you have to go and say something ridiculous like that."

Neirah cocked a brow slyly with hints of amusement on her face. "Oh? You flatter me so close to my departure? How I'll long for the day when we're reunited."

"I don't get it," he snarled. "Why are you here? And don't give me the same half-assed crap that you did Misaki a year ago. Put some effort into it."

A disheartened sigh passed her lips as she lowered her head and slowly rocked it. "You ask that question like you have any desire to understand the answer."

"Are you questioning my intelligence?" he retorted brusquely. "I'm not like Yata. You can tell me the reason straightforward, and I'll understand."

"Very well," she admitted softly. "You know I hate to disappoint you, but it's not so different from the answer your friend struggled to accept." She raised her sharp azure gaze and locked it with his, her expression focussed. "I want to burn." She carefully observed him, noting the way his muscles tightened like he was surprised, or maybe attempting a retreat. "I grew up on a self-proclaimed exile, serving as an assassin until someone heard my heart's desire and pulled me out of the ashes. This is my rebirth, and these moments of uncertainty are nothing but growing pains."

She interrupted herself with a miserable sigh, catching the signs of mistrust in his eyes. "But in the end, all I want is to be in complete control of my fate," she assured him callously. "That's why I'm afraid to let any sign of weakness show because to face rejection like yours from the rest of my friends would destroy me."

He wasn't sure why he felt the sting of guilt for hurting a woman he claimed not to care about in the first place, but it was quickly overlooked. It was the only reason they couldn't remain civil in each other's presence for too long. Both of them needed to feel in control, and what he wanted for her wasn't what she wanted for herself.

"Then what will you do?" He waited for her expression to soften, her eyes to meet the intensity passed on to his. "If that's what you really want, would you be satisfied to come back a new woman just to have everything go back to the way things were? You're just going to tag along by Totsuka's side for the rest of your life?" The fact that she didn't fight back made his blood boil.

It was becoming difficult to keep his voice lowered, his body from trembling with irritated wrath. "You say you want to control your fate, but here you are, serving someone else's every whim. You talk about rebirth, but all they did was refit your collar. Are you telling me you can't see that?"

After a long moment of silence, Neirah's lips slowly curled into a sardonic grin. "So much for straightforwardness."

"Then let me ask you a straightforward question. Why me? If all you want is to be in control, why does it matter what I say?"

"Because I can't control a flame until I accept that it's a part of me." She lowered her eyes and watched flames lick her fingers when she upturned her palms. "I have to figure out what the fire in my eyes burns for and then stop repressing it. If it's to serve my king, then that's my decision to make. I can't be driven by my guilt for the rest of my life, holding back bits of who I am just because I don't think others will like what they see. Those are all pretty words to ask someone who doesn't have an interest in the outcome to tell me whether or not you think I'm strong enough to face the consequences of my actions."

It was a simple game, and it bored him. Their relationship had been a power struggle from the start, but that part didn't bother him. What did was when she showed genuine signs of caring about who he was and what he thought of her. She treated him like a friend no matter how hard he pushed against the mere thought in a way that reminded him of Misaki. She had shown him the weakness she feared would turn them away, ready to face rejection, but that was all she'd ever known from him. It was hard for him to understand when that had become endearing. There wasn't room for her in his life. He didn't want her in it at all.

"What consequences?" he muttered under his breath. "I never liked you in the first place, so it's not like it could get any worse. And those idiots back at HOMRA? I'm pretty sure they're always going to be a pack of wild dogs at your heels. That's what you wanted to hear, right?" He wasn't sure why that particular part of the statement sounded so bitter.

"Go," he commanded frankly. "At the very least, I don't have to look at you for the rest of the summer."

Much to Saruhiko's irritation, she offered the man a tender smile. "You say that, but you've been going out of your way to spy on me recently, haven't you?"

Tsk.

She giggled softly. "Onii-chan can be such a pain when he's worried," she admitted exhaustedly. "But I couldn't live with myself if all I do is burden everyone around me."

"Then stop being so dramatic all the time."

Neirah rolled her eyes over her playful beam. "I've always liked you, Fushimi-san," she admitted soundly. "If I do lose my nerve and stay in Nagasaki after all, I might miss you."

"And I bet you're expecting that feeling to be mutual."

Her smile didn't fade as she slowly shook her head. "You wouldn't be you if it was. Just like I wouldn't be me if I wasn't a drama queen."

Sure, there were times when he was relieved that she wasn't around, and other times, he missed her dearly. If both of them were a little less stubborn, there was a chance that they might come to a mutual understanding, but it didn't interest either of them to put forth the effort. In the end, they had accepted that they didn't belong in each other's story, and that sufficed.

Still, there was a hint of disappointment in her tone as she spoke, feeling the weight of his earnest rejection in her heart. "It's settled then… I guess tomorrow I face my fear of flying."

"Are we done?" Saruhiko's tone was even and filled with agitation as he spoke. "If all you wanted was for me to tell you to get lost, I could've done that back at the bar without wasting the effort of walking out into the middle of town."

"True," she sang. "But I kind of enjoy these quiet moments alone with you. It's like talking to my subconsciousness."

Saruhiko nearly gagged on the sentiment but admitted that it amused him to think that there might be a self-destructive masochist somewhere inside the sadist she claimed to be. "Please come back as a soulless recluse."

Upon leaving him standing at her back, she waved her hand towards him with a playful chuckle, finding it amusing that she felt like they might get along better if she had taken his advice. "HOMRA isn't big enough for two."

Geh-! After his entire body jolted with the impact of her honied insult, he snapped his sharp gaze over his shoulder like he was ready to bark back. Then, he stilled, catching the unsettling feeling that they weren't alone anymore.

His body relaxed as he watched her depart, checking either side of her in a way that was startling him to feel like he was watchful over the woman he knew would have long sensed the disturbance as well. The consideration had his jaw aching to bear the tension of his indecision until finally, he turned away entirely.

Tsk.