Side Story (I)

Incomparable

May 20th, 2008 4:03 a.m.

Tat. Tat. Tat.

At first, Izumo had every intention of ignoring the gentle knock that struck his door because he wasn't sure if it was his door receiving the gesture. It didn't seem logical considering the hour, and he certainly wasn't expecting company. Ready to dismiss the address as being his neighbour's, he opened one eye, staring up at the ceiling for a moment when he heard the mild striking persist.

Tat. Tat… tat.

Answer your damn door, is what he wanted to say before he realized that maybe he'd been delusional all along. He rolled over onto his front in bed, squinting towards the digital display of his timepiece reading just after four o'clock in the morning and his teeth ground. "Who the hell bangs on somebody's door at four the morning?"

Tat… tat… tat.

Swift reflexes expelled a sudden force to unfold his sheets from his body, slapping them down alongside him instead. "I'll tell ya who; someone with a death wish, that's for damn sure." Heaving an exhausted groan, he checked his phone to ensure that he hadn't missed some sort of distress call, but everything seemed right in HOMRA's world. He flopped onto his back and pressed his forearm to his brow when the gentle patter sounded again. "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

Before raising, he dragged a shirt off his bedside table and tugged it over his head, just in case it was the landlady or something equally as befitting decency. With his luck, it was probably the police, or worse, representatives of SCEPTRE4 with Tatara by the collar. The possibilities were endless and extreme in his sleep-addled mind, but they were interrupted when the knocking repeated. He groaned as he slipped his arms through the sleeves, straightening his dishevelled hair with the comb of his fingers. "Whoever it is, they sure are patient."

Sure enough, when he fumbled towards his apartment's entrance, the quieting ruckus was indeed connecting with his door slab. His thoughts were rampant with bitter curses that he intended to offer the intrusion. If it was Tatara, he was ready to slam the door right back in his, no doubt, grinning face. If it were Mikoto, he would toss His Highness right out of the high-story window. Anyone else and-

Izumo flinched, his once lethargic expression bursting wide with bemusement when his lazy grip on the handle revealed the sight of HOMRA's newest recruit standing on his doorstep with a timid look on her face. Sleep was pushed to the far back of his mind in an instant as he watched the youth shuffle, her bright eyes fixed on his own in an unnerving way. All he could think was, oh great, you're a morning person, huh?

He parted his lips like he wanted to address the girl, but then snapped his jaw shut again. She was wearing her high school uniform, which typically consisted of a skirt and blouse, but over top of it, he recognized Tatara's coat staving off the chill of the damp morning. "Ts-Tsukiyo-san?" He was suddenly glad that he'd at least had the good sense that early to drag a t-shirt over his head before answering his company's call. "What- Is something wrong? Is it Totsuka?" So far as he was aware, Neirah had taken up residency with their energetic companion, and she was glued to his side most days, but she seemed to be alone that morning. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

It was Neirah's turn to be meek as her soft gaze dropped and scanned the still hallway of Izumo's apartment complex. "Ah, good evening, Kusanagi-san. Or… morning, I suppose, isn't it?" She nibbled on the inside of her cheek as she considered the spacious facility around her. It was quite unlike where she lived with Tatara on the other side of town. "I… hope I'm not imposing, but… I was wondering if you might have a moment?"

The duration of Izumo's blinks were lengthening as he watched her sheepishly peek his way. Of course not. Who in their right mind would consider visitation after four a.m. imposing? But he kept that part to himself. "I- well, I guess," he stammered out awkwardly. He didn't know what the woman expected him to be busy with at that hour, but at the same time, he appreciated her courtesy. He certainly wouldn't always be available at all hours by her beck and call, but he was alone that night. "Kinda late to be making house calls, though, isn't it?" And that was putting it lightly.

"My apologies."

He raised his fingers to his forehead and pushed his bangs from the knot that was beginning to twist his waking expression. "How did you find this place?" he softly interrogated. "Did Totsuka maybe-"

"I followed you home the other night," she confessed.

Despite her tender tone, he still recoiled as if she'd just barked her retort. A haunted shiver tore up his spine and jolted him stiffly upright, but he tried not to let it reflexively slam the door on her. "Wait, you what?" A low groan stifled his bitter curse as he slowly stepped to the side and dropped his head in surrender. "That's reassuring," he admitted exhaustedly. He tipped his second hand into his apartment, inviting the ex-assassin to join him since she'd come so far to do so. It would be rude of him to deny her objective, no matter how bloody. "Look, if you're gonna kill me, I only ask that you do it quickly. I'm too busy to be left to suffer."

He was just as startled by her alarm as she was by his comment, and the sheer look of dejection that crossed her face made his heart sink. "I-it was a joke," he reassured her hurriedly. "Sorry, it's pretty early. I suppose that was in poor taste, given your history."

She was skittish, as usual, when she padded softly through his doorway, but that seemed to be what she'd intended, by the looks of things. School shoes were already in her hands when he answered, leaving her standing outside in her stockings with her schoolbag draped over her shoulder. It was clear that she was there for a reason, which wasn't entirely unexpected out of a straightforward girl like her.

"It's so clean," she droned in quiet observation. "If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't think anyone lived here."

Izumo startled from his wandering thoughts as he slowly closed the door behind them, appreciating that she'd had the good sense to knock first. "I'd say that's a good thing, given I didn't really expect to be hosting company this early," he teased spryly. "It'd be pretty embarrassing to welcome a lady into a messy apartment."

Beneath a thoughtful crease, Neirah's eyes fixed on the sight of his modern décor. It was unexpected for her to observe when she considered the current state of his bar. "Tatara's apartment is nothing like this," she whispered. "He doesn't have very strong organizational skills, but he's got knick-knacks for days."

A mild chuckle rumbled in Izumo's chest, but he wasn't surprised in the slightest. "That sounds like him. That kid gets into all sorts of crazy hobbies, and he kind of just leaves his junk wherever it was when he decides to move on to something else." With a muffled groan, Izumo made his way towards the kitchen. "Is that why you came all the way out here; because you couldn't get a good night's sleep with all the clutter?"

Without so much as raising her eyes from the state of his dwelling, Neirah's tone was tender and confident. "No, I prefer it that way."

Izumo tipped his worrisome gaze towards where Neirah was curiously absorbing her surroundings. It had been nearly a month since the young lady had taken Mikoto's hand, but she remained alert with a high guard. He wrote it off as her insecurities with clan life because her past had left a mark on her skeptical conscience. She tended to come off as aloof, at times, be he could see her wheels spinning. She was absorbing her environment in case she needed to use that information later for something like 'escape'. He humoured her none-the-less and tried his best to reassure her that she had nothing to fear, but something cautioned him that only time would tell. "You like sleepin' in his mess?"

Neirah's gaze tapered with consideration. "It feels homey," she fondly confessed. "Sleep isn't something that has come easily for me in the past, but having somebody nearby makes me feel a little less anxious." Her voice trailed off as her gaze began to taper. "Safe… even…"

"It does, huh?" It was amusing him to consider that Tatara made the young assassin feel protected, given their night-and-day personalities. He pulled out a kettle, beginning to fill it with water from the tap before he set it on the stove to boil. It wouldn't kill him to be a gracious host, no matter how unexpected the company. "Tsukiyo-san, would you like some barley tea?"

"Neirah."

Izumo's grip faltered on the dial of his range, causing it to rattle loudly beneath his unsteady fingers. "I'm sorry?"

Finally, Neirah returned her calculating eyes towards her reluctant company. "I would appreciate it if you called me Neirah instead if that's alright."

Things were beginning to grow uncomfortable for Izumo again as he turned away to arrange a couple of mugs on his counter. "Uh, sure thing."

"And I would like some tea," she answered vaguely. "I didn't get to have any before I left."

"I bet." He couldn't imagine anyone having the ambition to make tea at four in the morning. He certainly didn't, but it was better than facing the chill she'd sent up and down his spine with her void consideration. What a weird night, he mused hesitantly.

Because she'd continued to wander, Izumo returned to her side and offered her a seat on his couch, mainly because he was anxious just watching her stand in the middle of the empty room like a lamp awaiting placement. "So, if Totsuka's pigsty of an apartment didn't chase you out, what brings you here at this hour?"

Neirah took his invitation and sat on the couch as far away from him as she could against the leather cushions, which didn't help the unpleasant aura settle. "I wished to speak with you, but I have classes today. If I wanted to have time to talk before making attendance, I had to come early."

His head was nodding even as he stifled his yawn. "That explains it, then." There was a dry note of sarcasm in his tone that he couldn't entirely conceal. "This couldn't have waited until later this afternoon?"

She laid her hands in her lap and slowly shook her head. "No. I didn't want Tatara to be there when we spoke."

Izumo straightened and cocked a brow expectantly. "Alright," he calmly instigated. "What's goin' on between you two, that's suddenly got you showin' up at all hours saying weird things? I'm going to need it straight for a while because it's way too early to figure you out right now. I'm not even sure it was easy to begin with."

"I didn't mean to come off as strange when I asked you to address me by my given name."

He considered it cute that she thought that was his biggest gripe that evening.

Neirah's fleeting gaze began to scan the area again, and he took it as a sign of her mutual discomfort. "It just makes me feel more comfortable. When Tatara called me Nei-chan the night we met, it made me feel secure in an uncertain world. Like I belonged somewhere." She lowered her eyes to the fidgeting of her hands in her lap. "I know the familiarity might seem a little premature, but I'm finding that things like that calm me down when I'm feeling restless."

Izumo's breathing hitched before he lowered his head with a faint nod. "I understand," he conceded. "Totsuka mentioned that you still have high anxiety after all that happened. I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner."

When Neirah redirected her attention his way again, she looked hurt. "Do you think you rescued me?"

It was hard for Izumo to know what to say when she asked the question so directly and looked at him through eyes threatening tears. Her approach left him with mixed signals.

Realizing that she may have been acting selfishly, Neirah retracted her gaze and tried to moderate her approach. "I'm sorry. That was rude," she admitted softly. "It's just difficult for me to process your consideration after all I've been through." Her fisting fingers tightened in her skirt. "My previous employer wasn't nearly as kind."

"Employer?" Izumo sat forward on the couch and carefully observed her shifty mannerisms. "Is that what this is all about?"

Peeking him from beneath her bangs, Neirah connected their gazes momentarily before returning her eyes to the floor. "Is that not what HOMRA is? That's why you decided to recruit me, wasn't it? Because of my particular talents?"

Izumo leaned one elbow on his couch arm before laying his face in his palm. It was difficult for him to gather an approach worth facing their newest addition. He didn't know how he was going to make her understand what was happening in her life. Then, before he could speak, the pot on the stove began to alert him that his water had boiled, so he took the invitation as a welcome reprieve from the tension growing in the room.

A heavy sigh escaped him like the steam from his pot as he filled their cups. He took that moment of calm vacancy to gather his thoughts before returning with their teas in hand. "Look, Tsuki- I mean, Neirah. It's- I'm not too sure what you're looking for here." He set the mugs down on the coffee table, having to slide hers a distance to put it within her reach. She still didn't seem to want to be near anyone outside of Tatara, which was okay. He didn't begrudge her the hesitancy when everything was still so new. "For starters, I think you've got the wrong idea about what we do here. I know you're no stranger to conflict between gangs, but we run things a little differently under the orders of our king."

"But it's similar."

Izumo thrust his hand into his hair to give his roots a frustrated tug as he slumped against the couch with his tea. "No- I mean, maybe, sort of? But it's also different."

"In a similar way."

"Are you sure that we can't have this talk after the sun comes up?"

"Why won't you assign me tasks like you do the others?"

Izumo startled, playing off the disturbance like he'd burnt his tongue on his freshly-boiled beverage. "Come again?"

Neirah turned sad eyes his way, moving straight into her reason for bothering him so early in the morning. "The other members, you assign specific duties for them to complete. It's not entirely different from what my ex-employer used to do. But you seem hesitant to assign me tasks, and I was just worried that you might not be confident in my abilities."

"It's more complicated than that," he muttered apprehensively. "And… hard to explain."

"Is there some sort of initiation I have to pass first?"

He ground his teeth and tossed his head over his shoulder like he hoped someone was standing there to take the heat off him. Where was Tatara when he needed him? "That was kinda the reason you took Mikoto's hand. That's as close as we've got right now-"

"Is it because I'm a woman?"

Finally, Izumo closed his eyes, resting his mug in both hands as he considered her train of thought. He could understand her concern, but because he was responsible for doing the groundwork on his king's behalf, his prejudices seemed to factor into his command. A sharp woman like Neirah was all it had taken to catch him in his biases. "Yes." As blunt as his words sounded, he couldn't retract their sincerity, so he was relieved when she didn't seem bothered by their impact. Or, he was, until he realized how strange it was that she didn't seem to take even the slightest offence in the blunt observation.

For a long moment, the apartment remained silent. Izumo clutched his tea but didn't drink, and Neirah hadn't acknowledged hers. It was an uncomfortable silence that promised many thoughts were crossing both minds as it extended. "Hey, can you tell me something?" he interrupted quietly. "That Yakuza group you hunted for… do you have any idea what they were really up to? I mean, behind the scenes, not just the occasional scuffle over territory." He noticed her softly shake her head out of the corner of his eye, but her answer didn't surprise him.

"No, I'm sorry," she whispered ruefully. "It… I received a call from my employer, was given details, and asked to take care of my targets in a timely fashion with no traces of the crime. I think most of the people I was sent for were members of rival gangs."

"And how many targets did you take care of before we found you?"

Neirah's throat worked dryly, and she considered that her tea might help with how scratchy her throat had become. Still, she didn't reach for it after claiming it was what she wanted. "Seven, to various degrees."

Izumo closed his eyes again with a bitter curse. "Shit…" A hearty sigh passed his lips as he leaned forward and set his cup on the table, trying not to let her notice that he'd caught how badly she was trembling. Picking up a pack of cigarettes in its place, he sat back against the couch and peeled one out of the box before addressing her considerately. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

The answer came in a gentle shake of her head.

"Thanks." Despite his grateful remark, he didn't feel like she could truly understand how relieved he was to ignite the smoke between his teeth. It was way too early to talk about such a grave subject. "I'm not tryin' to scare you or anything, but there was a pretty big reason we were watching them so closely before you showed up."

He wanted her to face him so he could attempt reading her expression, but she didn't give him the opportunity. "Their main operation was a human trafficking ring. And I figure the reason you never knew about it was because of it's nature." She finally diverted, but when their eyes met, he wasn't sure that was what he'd wanted anymore. "They were sellin' girls about your age overseas on live web auctions." It hurt him just to consider the words he spoke, but when he watched a look of instantaneous regret flash on her features, the sting throbbed. "They were slaves, Neirah."

Her lips parted, and a devastating gleam surfaced in her eyes as they glossed with a nervous sentiment.

"The truth is, I can't help feelin' like once they were done with you, you'd be next on the block," he admitted gravely. He diverted his eyes and sucked the filter of his light. After watching the smoke twist in front of his nose for a moment, he dipped his index finger into an ashtray, drawing it across the table before he closed his eyes and exhaled. "Sendin' you out on your own right now… just doesn't feel right."

Tapping the ash from his butt, he relaxed in his seat to stare at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. "I know it might not seem fair, but, like I said, we operate a little differently 'round here. Most of our boys head out in pairs, and even then, it's still not impossible for them to run into more trouble than they can handle. We have powers. We're not invincible."

After peeking her in his peripherals, smoke framed her face on the other side of the couch. It did nothing to conceal her turmoil. Noticing that his words didn't seem to comfort her, he carried on without the fear of making the situation any worse. "I guess there's a part of me that thinks havin' you around could come in mighty handy," he admitted earnestly. "You're like the wind. You can be anywhere at any time, and nobody would notice if you didn't want them to. You have that look of a hunter, and I can tell you're quick on your feet. It's no coincidence that Totsuka compares you to a lion."

"A lion?"

A crooked smile formed on his lips around his cigarette as Izumo grew confident in sating her curiosity and turned to face her intrigued expression. "That's what he called you the night he brought you back to my bar, and I'd say he's not far off," he casually explained. "Maybe it isn't fair that I've been keepin' you in reserve, but in case you haven't noticed, Totsuka isn't much of a fighter, so pairing you off with him doesn't seem smart. You don't really get along with anyone else yet, so it kinda puts me in a spot."

"I'm sorry," she murmured sheepishly. "I don't mean to be difficult."

"It's fine. I wouldn't blame you with the way Chitose is acting over the whole ordeal." Izumo was relieved to catch the slightest of grins on her face to his attempt at lightening the mood. Unfortunately, not long after, his expression was hardening with skepticism. "But I think the bigger issue here isn't so much your capabilities, but your view on who we are, what we do." Growing reassured with their communications, Izumo quietly leaned his arm over the couch back and captured the flap of Neirah's blouse collar. Even though she gasped lightly for the contact, she didn't flee, which allowed him to peel back the material and reveal her fresh HOMRA brand.

"What does this mean to you?" he started tenderly while allowing her shirt to fall over the mark on her chest. "And don't compare it to your old clan when you answer. We're movin' forward here, not backwards."

Neirah whimpered timidly and raised her fingers to her collar, gently tugging on the material he'd disturbed so she could peek her brand. "What… does it mean?"

"Does it have a meaning?"

Neirah considered the lines carefully for a long and silent moment, flames dancing in her eyes as she traced the daunting knot bound over her right breast. She had obtained the mark immediately after taking Mikoto's hand and receiving her powers from her king, which she understood was normal. Tatara had one too, on his shoulder. Despite his carefree nature, he also seemed to have abilities given to him by the same king, and she wondered if his reason for accepting Mikoto's hand was like her own. Was the reason she took his hand the same meaning Izumo insisted on knowing?

"I guess, if I had to say anything, it would be… hope." She didn't reconnect their gazes as she murmured her words more to herself than for Izumo's benefit. She hoped that was an adequate response to his intrigue. "After all, that's what I told Tatara the night he found me. A hope that one day, I'll break free of fate and live the life I choose. The freedom of choice."

She could feel it deep within her breast with every beat of her heart, the eager lick of flames warming her from the inside out. If she concentrated on it enough, on the kindness that led her to where she sat, she could feel something she'd never felt before. "Hope that... tomorrow will be better than yesterday because I'm ready to move forward."

Izumo couldn't keep his lips from curling into a disappointed grin. "Is that so?"

An apprehensive nod rattled Neirah's sombre face to consider that her answer had somehow displeased him. "For the longest time, I woke up every morning feeling like my old life was rejecting me… like it was trying to tell me that I wasn't meant for this world." Then she slowly shook her head. "I-I had no idea that there was more than one; world, that is. I didn't know there were options." She raised both of her hands to her chest and clutched them tightly against the mark she'd received from her king. "And I wonder if this one is where I was meant to be all along. I want to know… if this is the place where I belong." Could she take fate in her own hands without breaking it? She had to know.

Izumo's expression faltered worrisomely, and his muscles tightened with guilt. "Do you want this to be your place?"

Sad eyes raised to meet his with a look of longing in her starry gaze. "That's why I wanted to ask you why you weren't giving me tasks like the others," she whispered nervously. "I didn't want… to feel like I was already being rejected. I fear that, above all else. I don't ever want to feel that way again. I don't want… to be alone." Her tone flattened and softened almost incomprehensibly. "This might be… my last hope to belong… somewhere… And I didn't want to give up just yet."

Despite how alarmed Neirah looked when Izumo neared her, he didn't shy away from her apprehension. If he treated her like a fragile doll, she would break herself. He could see that now. Maybe he had never wanted her to join their clan in the first place, but now that she was part of them, he couldn't turn his back on her, he didn't want to. She put up walls to keep her safe because self-defence was all she'd ever known. She'd never had someone who cared to protect her, which was what they'd instinctively yearned for the moment they crossed paths. She'd never had a second set of eyes on her back or someone to lean on, not until she'd met them. That might take some getting used to, for the time being.

Izumo reached out and took her hand between his and held it tightly to keep her from fidgeting anymore. "You asked me if I thought we saved you that night we met you, but I actually think you meant to ask yourself that question instead." He looked deep into her nervous gaze with stern hints of assurance in his. "Do you think you needed saving?"

Neirah didn't break eye contact, which was difficult when tears started to bubble over her eyelids and blur her vision. She was shaking, but she didn't sniffle. She just let the tears quietly drain. She was too overwhelmed to be embarrassed.

"We're not the same as your previous employer," he guaranteed her strictly. "And I think you know that, deep down. That's why you came here, wasn't it? You knew that there was nothing to be afraid of." It hurt his heart to watch her eyes glaze over with surrender, but he didn't want to treat her like she was delicate. That was what she meant when she said she was ready to move forward. She dreamed of feeling stable and safe, and she'd fight for it if she had to. "These marks that we share aren't just for show. They run deeper than that. You've noticed that too, haven't you? That feeling of security around Totsuka, when you came all the way out here to see me." He had a feeling she'd felt it right from the moment she looked into Mikoto's eyes that night, not a month prior. "Despite all that you've been through, you can already feel the difference between us."

"There's a reason I put this mark on my bar, y' know." There was almost a teasing song in his tone as he offered her a reassuring smile. "Because that's our place. We don't need to hide who or what we are, so it's okay to be proud. And I know that's what you want because that's why you took his hand, isn't it? That's why he's your king."

When she parted her lips to answer, a mawkish whinge came out in place of what she wanted to say, and she ended up sputtering instead. Her cheeks ignited in bashful shades of humility as she sealed her eyes tightly and forced her tears to flood her tanned cheeks.

"Some people say we're violent, well, maybe they aren't wrong." With a sly grin, Izumo removed one of his hands from hers and gently smeared her tears over her sniffling face. "But if you ask me, violent isn't the only word I'd use to describe us."

When she turned her bright eyes to face him again, he flashed her a sincere smile. "We're passionate," he reassured her tenderly. "We're proud of who we are and what we do no matter what other people think. If they want to call us violent, so be it. It's hard for criminals to make a move in Mikoto's territory if they're all afraid that some big, scary monster is gonna come for them in their sleep." He was delighted when she finally laughed, albeit a drowned and awkward kind of sputter. "There it is," he teased spiritedly. "I knew you could do it, kid."

Neirah reclaimed her hands and dabbed her face with a couple of tittering whimpers. It hadn't taken her long to understand the difference between her old clan and the new. "I think the people who fear him are people carrying guilt for their actions," she murmured fondly. "That night, when King-sama looked at me, it wasn't necessarily fear that I felt. I could feel something else... He wasn't ashamed of what he was doing at all. He protected me without a second thought, even though I, myself, had doubts. It made me feel like… I should have more confidence in who I am. Like maybe… my life wasn't a curse, after all." She bowed her head and tapered her eyes on the sight of her hands wringing together sheepishly. "I suppose… that inspired me."

"Well, it's a damn shame to see a nice girl like you tied up in all of this," he admitted ruefully. "But since you're here, there's no changing that. You seem pretty determined to make this place your own, and you've already come a long way from not wanting to shake my hand."

"I… I want to burn like he does," she whispered. "I want that pride to fill me with hope, to protect the things I care about and move forward down the path that I choose for myself. If I can do that… maybe I can break this curse, and everything good in my life will stop disappearing."

Izumo's expression twisted with hesitancy. "Now, now, one step at a time, Little Lion," he sassed. "The last thing I need is another little Mikoto runnin' around."

"I may be little, but I want this cold world to feel the heat of this flame that King-sama has left in my hands," she reasoned coyly. "Those people who would dare to commit such unspeakable crimes… if I had of known…"

"You woulda tried to tear it up from the inside out, right?" He smiled back at her despair. "It'll be easier this way. You don't have to work alone anymore. Whether I like it or not, we're all connected like some big dysfunctional family. You're just our first sister, that's all."

Neirah tipped her marvel his way with a startled gasp. "So… does that mean you'll assign me duties like you do the others."

With a hefty sigh of surrender, Izumo climbed to his feet and held out his hand towards her. When she moved to fill it with her lean fingertips, he quietly shook his head. "Let me see your PDA."

Neirah's brow knotted suspiciously, and she swiftly retracted her hand. "My PDA…?"

"Yep," he reassured her. "Hand it over."

Neirah dug through her belongings on the couch before gently laying the device in his hand. Her eyes remained fixed on him nervously as he began to walk away, leaning towards his ceiling to switch off his smoke alarm before the electronic in his palm combusted.

He strode away like it wasn't a big deal, his free hand over his mouth to steady his cigarette as he watched the flames roar. Neirah stifled a shrill squeal behind her hands as wild eyes watched her device burn in his clutches for a moment before he casually dropped the smouldering remains into his stainless-steel sink and turned on the tap. The water hissed, raising a thick mist into the kitchen that surely would have set off the alarm otherwise.

"One of those bastards got away that night we had it out with your old boss," he reminded her curtly. "The son-of-a-bitch who shot at you." There was a sober and somewhat cynical gleam in his focussed gaze as he watched the plastic pop and crackle while it begged mercy from the heat even after he'd doused it. "There's a chance that they've still got their eyes on you. Even if they're afraid of what you've become, that doesn't mean they've forgotten that you betrayed them." He sighed, removing his smoke from his mouth to puff out another foggy haze into the humid air. "I've been doin' this for a while now. All it takes is one wrong move, and they'll go for revenge every time."

A command remained in his expression as he tilted his head over his shoulder and met her flustering confusion on his sofa. "What that means is, if I give you work, you'll have to be extra cautious not to leave your back unprotected." Tatara would be a liability for someone as diligent as their recent addition, so he had no choice but to believe in her. That didn't mean he had to like it. "This is us moving forward."

Shuddering with realization, Neirah lowered her hands, her eyes wide and filled with wonder as she stared back at the defensive assurance on his face. Maybe it had confused her at first, but after that night, she'd understood that Izumo only wanted what was best for her. Perhaps he didn't believe that that was HOMRA, but he never stopped caring to detach himself outwardly. What he was offering seemed incomplete, but promised so much more if she could prove her worth.

When she noticed that he wasn't going to continue until she acknowledged his sentiment, she rapidly nodded her head. "U-understood."

After hearing her choke on her encouragement, he offered her a casual smile. Once she set her mind to something, there would be no telling her otherwise. He'd pretty much come to accept that. She was already more like her king than she could even comprehend. "Good. Wait here."

Even as she did what he'd instructed, he wished she hadn't. He hoped he'd been wrong about her and that she'd arrived that morning to beg him to fix her folly. But that wasn't the case, and even if it was, he wasn't sure if he would be able to reject her now. She wanted to find her place in a cold world, so Mikoto welcomed her to a world on fire. That night, Izumo watched her future go up in flames, their flames, but maybe it wasn't a bad thing after all. Perhaps, she just needed someone to burn with.

He returned to her side from the other room with a small box in his hand. From where he stood, he took the cover off the package and flopped a new mobile device into his hand, powering it on before tossing it her way. Not that he would admit, but he had picked up the spare a few days after she'd become a staple in their daily lives. It would do them no good if the Yakuza had a trace on her from the days where she communicated with them on her old one.

Neirah's fumbling hands caught what she presumed was her new PDA, but her expression was still a little disturbed by her alarm. She turned over the sleek device and took notice that the case on the back sported a mark matching the one on her chest. Her life was changing and moving faster than she had expected.

Izumo held up his mobile, flashing the matching case to her observation as he tapped the ashes from his smoke into the sink. "My number's already in there," he assured her stiffly. "And your king's, and Totsuka's. For a while, they're gonna be the only ones you need, got it?"

Neirah frantically nodded her head.

"For all intents and purposes, you're a shadow," he started undoubtedly. "I don't want you out there making waves and throwing your power around like the rest of them. You may serve a king now, but you report to me. I'll be taking full responsibility for your management from here on, so I don't want any funny business."

"Yes sir."

He couldn't keep his approving smile from spreading. "Like I said, kid, we're not gonna do things like those other guys. If you ever get into trouble, I expect a call. You're not expendable anymore, so I don't want you to feel that way." His sentimentality caused a light chuckle to catch in his throat. "Besides, it's been kind of nice havin' someone to babysit Totsuka."

Neirah's face glowed rosy, and her full gaze watched him linger in the centre of the room with the utmost confidence in her position within their ranks. "D-does this mean?"

"Yeah," he muttered in surrender. "I could use someone to help me sniff out the shadier operations of this city, someone quick and light on their feet. Whether I like it or not, you fit that bill pretty explicitly."

Neirah scrambled to her feet, folding both hands around her new mobile before bowing her upper body at a ninety-degree angle. "I won't let you down, Kusanagi-san! I'll work extra hard to make sure-"

Her gentle gasp was shrill as he approached her bow to ruffle up her wild auburn mane. For a long moment, she just stood there bewildered by the feeling of belonging washing over her as she stared at the floor beneath their feet.

"Just make sure you work extra hard to come back safe every time, okay?"

Neirah blinked a couple of times, sniffing back the sentiment as her tears began to slip onto the flooring beneath her bowed head. She ground her teeth, embarrassed with how twisted her lips had become over her attempts at smiling and frowning simultaneously. She was excited, but she was nervous. She had a lot to prove to the people who so bravely rescued a damaged girl just needing to feel like she was a part of something bigger. After a long moment of careful consideration, she began to weakly nod her head beneath the feeling of his warm touch on her crown.

"I promise… I'll make you proud…"

Finally, she was ready to burn.