I don't usually do this, but I just wanted to dedicate a special thank you to I Dream Therefore I Am and egerie187 for their continued support of this project. Their positive encouragement has given me the ambition I need to fight through this monumental project with undaunted enthusiasm. With your kind words in the back of my mind, I will bravely face the second and crucial half of A World on Fire.


Kempt


It's funny what you think about when you spend weeks on end alone, or who you think about. As it turns out, silence is the perfect state for contemplation, and I did a lot of that during my stay in Nagasaki.

When it finally sank in that out of the few words my father had managed to speak were to tell me how much I looked like my mother, I thought it would hurt. Shouldn't it? When someone meant to be closer to you than anyone else sees right through the person you've become, and into a different world like you're just not there… It made me wonder…

Where am I?

When I took the hand of my king, did I genuinely transcend a plane of existence that I can't return to, or am I still stuck somewhere in between? Was it fair to resent the man who helped bring me into this world because my eyes belonged to someone else that day? What actually matters at the end? When the path you choose finally crumbles away, where does that leave you and the person you've become?

Well, it leaves you where you fought to be.

It's not a great theory, but between my king and my very best friend in the entire world, I'm starting to realize that who you are, what you do, and where you end up, all depend on one vital thing:

You.

It would be nice to think I learned to live life without regret, but that's not entirely true. I guess I just learned how to deal with it a little better. What I really walked away from Nagasaki with was a sense of self that I didn't seem to have before. Maybe we'll call it maturity, for simplicity's sake.

The truth was that I kept considering the path I followed like it was actually laid out at my feet, but that wasn't accurate either.

The path I chose is one I continue to forge in the flames of red memories.

And if that flame ever goes out, that path will lead me to the smile in my heart, and with a smile on my face, I will bravely face the next world to come like I did those before.

Because I choose to.

It's not about being brave or having all the answers. It's about moving forward and always burning in the best way that you know how…

entirely.

August 28th, 2010

Time continued to drag as Misaki waited at the centre table of a bar called HOMRA, his chin rested on the back of the chair he'd mounted with his eyes fixed on the quiet doorway. He stared through wild chestnut bangs that fell against his brow since he'd surrendered his hat to their lion, his promise to a friend that they'd wait, that he'd wait. As the minutes passed, his thoughts began to drift towards the cynical. One of his legs began to fidget by his side with his increasing anxiety as he waited eagerly for the return of their comrade who had been gone from their lives for just over a month.

It was just as he thought it would be. Summer hadn't quite been the same. Every time he laughed, he felt guilty that she wasn't there to laugh with him. Then, when he really thought about it, he worried that somewhere all alone in Nagasaki, she was hurting with nobody to help her smile. The stress had kept him up more than one night, and when he was distressed, Saruhiko was up and tolerantly annoyed with his prattling all night long. But he listened in a way that Misaki had forgotten Saruhiko had a capacity to do. Then again, it had been a while since the pair had stayed up all night locked in an over-tired state of consciousness, talking about hypothetical nonsense. It had been a welcome distraction.

But even as they approached their hunter's hopeful return, he couldn't get the knot out of his stomach. Part of that discomfort might have been excitement, but there was a good part of dread tangled up with it. Even though Izumo assured him that he wouldn't be driving Tatara all the way out to the airport for no reason, he couldn't shake Saruhiko's insistent doubt.

From across the room, Saruhiko's dull gaze practically glowered at his enthusiastic colleague, growing more irritated as the energetic spring in Misaki's toes hastened. It seemed that the deeper he was in thought, the less control he had of his energy that sought an outlet outside of his comprehension. That wasn't abnormal for the young vanguard, but it frustrated Saruhiko to no end that he was acting that way over Tsukiyo Neirah.

In his opinion, Misaki looked like a dog at the door, anxiously wagging his tail for the return of his master, who wasn't gone more than ten minutes prior to his whining. After almost thirty minutes of silent observation, an impatient snort hissed past his nostrils as he lazily climbed from his barstool with every intention of interrupting his friend's episode. He didn't announce his presence any further than what he'd spoken from behind his fidgety cohort. "You have that look on your face again." His words rushed out exasperatedly, almost like it had taken him an effort to manage the soft communication. "Absolutely ridiculous…"

"Don't care." Misaki groaned curtly, burying half of his face in the arms he kept folded over the chair backing. "It's not like I can think about anything else. We are waiting for Tsukiyo."

Behind Misaki's flustered figure draped over the furniture, Saruhiko conspicuously rolled his eyes outside of the ginger's notice. When he perceived the pace of Misaki's left leg quickening, he clicked his tongue and kicked the appendage out from beneath his mate entirely. "Stop acting so pathetic. It's annoying," he commanded. He'd told him a hundred times not to suffocate her with his attention, but there he sat defying his every warning. "You know, your life isn't going to end if she doesn't come back."

Annoyed with his best friend's detachment, Misaki straightened in the chair and whirled to face him. "You don't know that!" When he realized how desperate, and somewhat possessive, he unintentionally sounded, he titled his flushed face away with a dim scoff. "I mean, no body's just up and quit on us before. We're supposed to be in this together. It would be the same if any of us thought about leaving." When he took notice of how little everyone else seemed to care that he sounded overly attached to the woman, his humiliation only deepened. Of all the obstacles he wished he'd conquered in time for her return, the guilt of considering her a friend was one of them. It seemed like, in the end, he was the only one who was genuinely skeptical of his intentions.

An impatient hiss filled Saruhiko's voice as he tried to keep his words from sliding off his tongue maliciously. "That's not very nice. Shouldn't your girlfriend be more important than just anyone else?"

He and Saruhiko, that was.

Saruhiko's tone grew even snider as his displeasure amplified. "Isn't that why you can't handle the fact that she might not come back? They say your first heartbreak is the hardest."

Growing even more impatient with Saruhiko's instigation, Misaki climbed to his feet and threw his chair out from beneath him, rising on his toes in an attempt to meet the man nose-to-nose. "I don't care what you say, Tsukiyo won't turn her back on her place here at HOMRA! We're like family!"

Tsk. Saruhiko couldn't help but throw his head to one side with a bitter snort, narrowly stifling his full-body cringe. "Disgusting…"

Suddenly, Misaki and Saruhiko snapped their combined attention to where the front door flew open with urgency. Misaki immediately cocked a brow at the sight of a panting Saburōta heaving his exhaustion by the entryway. "Holy shit, man. Did you run here?"

It looked like it took a minute for their racing guest to catch his breath before he flopped his head in a lazy nod. "I didn't miss Onē-san, did I?"

By where he stood near the bar, Rikio's brow knotted incredulously. "No. Kusanagi-san only just left for the airport."

"Yeah right!" Misaki spun to face his summer-lean companion, choking on his bitter remark. "He's been gone for like an hour!"

"Like a dog in the window," Saruhiko muttered grimly under his breath as he turned to depart. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Misaki shook his fist towards where Saruhiko was absently abandoning him and returning to his corner to mope. "Oi, what'd you just say, Monkey?! Saruhiko! Get back here while I'm talkin' to you! Y' know, this is half your fault!"

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell you don't!"

"Guys, can we not do this right now?" Rikio quietly pleaded. He raised both hands, a distressed smile on his face as he attempted to calm the riled nerves set to explode. "Kusanagi-san would be really mad if he came back, and his bar was all messed up. Plus, Neirah's comin' back today. We shouldn't be fighting when she gets here."

"Why not?" Yō muttered his words around the cigarette he was trying his hardest to enjoy before the return of their hunter. "That seems like a pretty normal thing for her to walk in on. Wouldn't want her to think things changed while she was gone."

Masaomi snorted curtly in support of his audacious friend's proclamation. "It's true." He accepted the Zippo from Yō without redirecting his gaze, his smile curling around the smoke he was going to try and sneak alongside his associate. "If she wanted friends that were gonna clean up nice and be on their best behaviour for these sorts of things, she probably should've picked better friends."

A disheartened pout found Rikio's face as he pushed his fingers back through his long blonde bangs and itched his crown. "I thought we were actually pretty good friends. I mean, Kusanagi-san even closed up the bar today and everything."

Misaki's bark drowned out Rikio's pained yelp after his fist collided with the back of the man's head. "Dumbass! We're great friends! Don't let anyone tell you anything else!"

Rikio groaned as he began to pick himself up off the floor. "But… why did you hit me over that?" He felt like he was more durable when it came to Misaki's irrational lashings when he was carrying his winter weight. Hm? His attention suddenly raised to where Anna was fluttering down the stairs, her shoes ticking across the hardwood as she floated through the hushing bar in a hurry. "Anna-chan? What's the matter?"

Without responding, Anna scampered to the front door and heaved on it to shove it open. Mmph! Letting it slow her advance for only a moment, she was clacking down the walkway outside of the establishment a moment later.

A curious and somewhat concerned expression overtook Misaki's face as he considered the child's struggle. "Uh… should we go after her?" he suggested uncertainly. When nobody answered his open-ended inquiry, he turned to face their gathering with a pleading look in his eyes. "Is it really okay to let Anna run off on her own like that?"

Misaki thought his heart might stop beating when he tilted his head. Disregarding Anna's dash towards the door, he turned his eyes on the casual strut of their king, walking through a ring of his own smoke, a cigarette clenched between his smirk as he silenced their banter. A gentle hum mingled with a scoff as he stood before the interrogation of their eyes with one hand buried in his pocket, the other draped lifelessly by his thigh. "She's here."

The moment Misaki heard the sound of Tatara's cheerful laughter coming from somewhere around the side of the building, he froze. He didn't watch Rikio pick himself up off the ground and dust his front. Instead, his softening expression melted into humbled concern when he observed the storefront windows. Surely Tatara wouldn't have been laughing if Neirah hadn't returned. Adrenaline had been the previous culprit for hastening his heartrate, but soon, it was fading into anticipated relief when he caught the fleeting sight of Neirah bouncing around between her escorts with an excited young Strain.

He'd recognized her voice instantly, even if he hadn't heard it in far too long. She could be girly, at times, but there were still deep notes of a sultry woman in her tone that tended to creep out with her sarcasm and seduction. It made her sound utterly devious, at times, but it was unmistakably hers. As he recalled, she'd spoken to Yō on the phone once, along with a multitude of text messages, and Rikio had heard from her twice. Once, Rikio even talked to her at their headquarters, which caused a deathly hush to eavesdrop. Nobody wanted to be the one to speak up and demand he pass the phone. They had a reputation to uphold, after all. That, and nobody really knew what to expect after the woman's meeting with her ailing kin.

Outside of that, Tatara and Izumo were the only other ones in direct contact with her. Unfortunately, either they didn't spill her secrets, or she made them take an oath of silence because, until that very moment, he still hadn't known if it was really her returning. In fact, it was becoming harder to distinguish the woman as she approached, and that had a dismaying knot coiling his insides all over.

The woman approaching was wearing white, knee-high pumps over her black tights, a soft-looking knit top with a low-cut chest dusting halfway down her thighs. That wasn't too strange, given that Masaomi was the one who helped her arrange the ensemble, but when she came through the door clutching Anna's hand with familiarity, he was relieved that he wasn't the only one silenced.

Her smile was radiant, and maybe brighter than he'd ever seen it because he'd known for a fact that he'd never seen it broad enough to let a faint dimple hollow out her right cheek. Her complexion was even a little darker than he'd recalled, noting that she might have gotten some time in the sun while she was in Nagasaki, and her cheekbones had a faint ruby tint to them as they topped her expression like bright cherries. But most importantly, her hair was styled in soft waves, highlighted with burning sun-kissed hues of crimson against a deep auburn base, and her bangs swept neatly to one side.

Then, he felt his temperature rise, his flustering increasing with every panting breath that raised the incriminating mark on her right, heaving breast. He didn't remember her like that. Suddenly, the dread began to slacken his expression again as her brilliant sapphire eyes scoured the room like she was confused by their silence, cocking one lean brow into the crook of her nose as she wrinkled it suspiciously.

"What's wrong?" Neirah tilted her fingers towards her bangs and gave them a nervous flick with her long sweater arms tucked against her clammy palms. "Cat got your tongue?"

Misaki thought that he'd once had a pretty good grasp on speaking to her, but the her that was in front of him wasn't the one who had left them a month prior. Something about that twisted his tongue into knots and made his heart sink. "Tsu-Tsukiyo…?" Misaki nearly squealed in alarm when Neirah's expression seemed to lock right through him, and when she started to lunge forward, he dove out of the way with his hands on his head. "A-ah! I-I'm sorry!"

But Misaki had quickly learned that he wasn't her target at all. That was easily noted in the delighted shriek that pierced the bar as her spike heels announced her stampede.

"Ri-ki-ooo!"

Just as Rikio had managed to resituate himself on his own feet, he turned to the sight of Neirah's charge and lost the colour in his tan face. "Nē-chan, wait-!" When Neirah crashed into his front, throwing her arms around his neck, he stumbled into a full rotation and fought his hardest to keep them on their feet. Maybe she looked a little different than when she'd left, but she still carried her reassuring cherry scent. He'd recognized it immediately. "Careful, Neirah. I almost fell!"

Once she had settled on her toes, nuzzling against him fondly, he returned her steady embrace with a relieved sigh. "It's good to see you too, but man, when I'm this size, it sure doesn't take much for you to bowl me right over."

She disregarded his concerns entirely as she finished scanning the perimeter. "No Fujishima?"

Rikio tilted his head to smile down at her reassuringly. "You know how it is," he kindly reasoned. "But believe it or not, since our sleepover here at the beginning of summer, his parents have been a lot more lenient."

"Of course," she pouted. "Just in time for me to leave."

A soft coo filled Neirah's voice with a song as she turned over her shoulder and checked to where something was delicately pulling on the ends of her styled ringlets. "Ah, Dewa-kun? Are you okay?"

The look of devastation on his face spoke volumes. "What have you done?" he whispered like he'd suffered an unforgivable betrayal. "Your hair… Y-you… chopped it all off…"

Neirah's nose crumpled a second time as she reclaimed her locks and observed them carefully. "I think you're being a little melodramatic," she reassured him. "It's still well past my shoulders when it's not kinked up like this. I just wondered what it might be like not to trip on it every time I sit down."

"I like it. It's hot." A wicked smile curled Yō's lips as he approached, brazen enough to keep his cigarette between his teeth when he did. He stuffed his palm onto his friend's face and shoved Masaomi aside, using him to support his flirtatious lean as he postured in front of her like her reaction might have changed during her time away. "Seriously, though. It suits you."

That malicious tone that Misaki had recognized immediately came out in force as her thick lashes tapered over vivid shades of cobalt. "You know what would suit you?"

It seemed like pretty much everyone other than Yō could see how bad things were about to go when she let her face near his. "Yeah?"

When Yō fled backwards to the feeling of Neirah's flaming palm on his face, Masaomi had his revenge. From where Yō had toppled him, he stood firm, causing Yō to drop to the floor and pat out the flames Neirah used to incinerate the smoke he thought was going to be tolerated.

After raising her head from the sight of her flirtatious associate scrambling, Neirah tilted her head to one side to observe where Saburōta was remaining skeptically distant. "What's the matter, Wolf-kun?" She popped over Yō's groaning mass with a delicate clack and snatched Saburōta's sunglasses from his face. "You wouldn't believe it. I met our future daughter on the plane to Nagasaki." Her eyes smiled as she clumsily stuffed his lenses back on his face, crooked and haphazardly. "She has your eyes."

A dull groan filled Saburōta's chest as he fixed his spectacles. "You're not gonna let me live that down, are you?" He barked his agony when Izumo crossed behind him and clapped him upside the head, knocking his cap unstable next.

"I can answer that," Izumo drawled. "But I think you already know better."

Neirah immediately latched onto Saburōta's arm and dragged him against her front in defence. "Onii-san, I said no!"

"I said no first," he casually refuted.

Turning her flushed smile Saburōta's way, Neirah giggled softly against his side. "Did you miss me?"

Once he'd adjusted his hat again, he straightened himself confidently and reapplied his poised smile. "Yeah, but I didn't cry once because that would be totally unmanly."

Neirah slapped her cushioned palm against his chest with a proud chortle. "Good for you, Bandō, baby."

And his posture immediately slackened. "W-why…?"

Finally, Neirah turned to notice that Misaki had been unusually quiet alongside them. She'd expected it out of Saruhiko, for sure, but something about the look on Misaki's entranced expression troubled her. It made her feel self-conscious and vulnerable in a way that she still wasn't entirely used to. "You too, Yata?" She sighed softly and slipped her bangs back into place after her lively reunion had knocked them astray. "I-If it's my hair, I can explain."

"I wouldn't waste your breath."

That did surprise her. When she raised her alert gaze to the sound of Saruhiko calmly addressing her from where he lingered by the bar past Misaki's shoulder, Neirah's heart fluttered. "Fushimi-san?"

With an impatient scoff, he diverted his agitated expression in a way that only he could make look cool. "You weren't gone long enough to forget how dense he can be when it comes to girls, right?"

After trembling for a moment, Neirah's lips curled into a heartwarming smile. "Of course not."

Upon turning her eyes back on Misaki, she quickly startled, feeling a little ashamed that he had flinched to the realization of her sudden movement. With an eager grin, she pulled her shoulder bag in front of her and dug through it a bit before finding the article she was looking for.

The moment that Neirah reached out and offered him his hat in both quivering sets of fingers, he immediately locked his sights on her hesitant apology. It was at that moment that he realized she hadn't changed a bit on the inside, and somehow, that brought him more comfort than he thought was possible.

"Here." Her words were nearly whispered as she offered him the hat that she'd stolen the night prior to her departure. "Borrowed and returned. Just like I promised."

Misaki was probably the one suffering the most blubbery reaction to her return when he reached out and dusted her fingers with his to retrieve the knit cap. When he returned it to his hands, he wrung the material to relieve some of the pressure building inside of him so he wouldn't burst into hysterics. And the moment he turned his eyes on hers, he saw the same look there that she had left him with the night before her trip. She was unafraid, ready to love and be loved without regret. It filled his smile with a positive influence even though his cheeks blushed rosy to consider how happy he was that nothing was going to change. Their hunter had come back to them.

After taking his sakura-scented cap in both hands to pull it over his brow, he choked out his mild retort through his unyielding smile. "W-welcome home."

Neirah's expression was moments from cracking when Mikoto interrupted the tender reunion by dropping his palm down on top of her head. When she tipped her head back to connect their gazes, she felt the heat of his approval from her crown to her toes. Just when she parted her glossy lips to speak, she whimpered in surprise to the feeling of him roughly ruffling up her waves.

Misaki immediately ground his teeth, just imagining how much effort had gone into curling the amount of hair she had even after it was trimmed. He reached out with tense fingers like he was hesitant to stop him or let him continue. "H-hah… Mikoto-san? I don't know a lot about chicks, but… I really don't think that's a good idea."

When Mikoto was done abusing the labours of a dedicated stylist, Neirah peeked back at his cocky smirk with a bemused look on her flushed face.

"There," he muttered in a self-assured proclamation. "That's better."

Running her fingers through her dishevelled bangs, Neirah let them flop wildly between her eyes where he had jostled them every which way without consideration to her efforts, and that delighted her. All she really wanted to do was thank him, but the only thing that could keep her tears from falling after that was to close her eyes and boldly stick her tongue out at him.

"Achem. Manners, young lady," Izumo instigated callously.

"I'm a lion, not a lady."

Yō dropped himself into a stool in hopes that he'd at least be protected from tripping hazards there. "Well, when you waltz in here lookin' like that-"

"Chitose-kun?" Neirah hummed mock-flirtatiously. "You're about to meet up with the deadly part of our love-hate relationship again."

Once his spirits had lifted, Misaki was falling right back into the rhythms they'd lost when their hunter had left them behind to find herself. "Is Chitose seriously the only one who doesn't remember the Chitose Incident of '08?"

"I'm so glad we made that a thing," Masaomi added devilishly.

Tatara watched as the room filled with laughter, the weight on his chest lifting to listen to the song of their companionship return in force. His world was complete once more as the circle gathered, his heart's song in full swing as he hummed the chords quietly to himself. They were one indomitable unit, and when a piece of them was missing, nothing seemed right.

He was surprised, for a moment, when he felt Anna's tiny hand slip up into his, holding it gently as she watched the event unfold. She could feel the tears threatening to fall from eyes that remained deceitfully dry. Through the tiny red marble that she held in front of her left eye, she saw secrets weaving threads and deepening the roots of the bond they continued to forge. "I told you she'd come back." Her voice was a mild whisper as she slowly retracted her marble and met Tatara's loving gaze. "Everything is okay now. Onē-san is home."

"She sure is." He kept his voice equally as soft, allowing Neirah to enjoy the impact of the moment with the rest of her friends. He didn't want to be too selfish when he knew that she would be there when he went home again that night for the first time in far too long.

It was a beautiful sight to behold and made his soft smile intensify as he watched Neirah drape herself over Rikio's shoulders to escape Masaomi's reprimand. He knew her new shoes were probably killing her tiny toes. They always did. "I should have brought my camera out for this. Everyone looks so happy."

To the sound of longing in his voice, Anna smiled softly. When she comprehended how much sentiment Tatara was withholding for the friend he dearly missed, she tightened her small hand around his fingers. "It's okay. It will make a beautiful memory." Her own chest filled with a comforting warmth, reassuring her that their world was right again. "And it's a lovely red."


By the time the commotion had settled, Neirah was exhausted. It had been a while since she'd been the centre of attention and, truthfully, she'd forgotten how draining it was. With a defeated sigh, she flopped into one of Izumo's barstools and laid her heavy head in her folded arms. Even though it was still unfamiliar, her sweater was so soft against her cheeks that it made her eyes heavy. "Okay, that was fun," she initiated. "But I think I need a nap now."

Tatara took a seat on her left side, leaving her king two places down on her right with Anna on his. "You can join me for my afternoon nap." Tatara could tell that the invitation was welcoming as she lingered quietly against the bar listening to the sound of their rowdy companions tease each other over ridiculous trivialities. Even if they decided to turn on her Wolf-kun, she didn't think she'd have the energy she needed to defend him.

Nearby, Izumo's brow jerked with traces of concern as he processed the man's unintentionally suggestive comment. "Totsuka, if I didn't know you any better, I might've lumped you in with Chitose for a comment like that."

Before Tatara could whine his defence, Neirah made a soft tutting noise to accompany her light smile. "It's fine, Tat-chan, Kusanagi-san," she kindly comforted. "To be honest, my sleep schedule has been a mess since my trip, so I should really tough it out and get it back together in time to start school again."

When Izumo tilted his head towards where she rested against the rosewood after speaking so casually, a proud smile curled his lips. "I sure like the sounds of that," he gently encouraged. "And your homework? Do you have plans to get that in order too?"

She raised slightly, half-lidded eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's already done."

His smile broadened. "Is it now?"

Giving a little nod, she straightened in her seat with a languid stretch that followed through to the tips of her outstretched fingers. "Cross my heart," she pestered. "I had a lot of time to myself when I was in Nagasaki, so I made sure I kept busy when I could. It prevented my mind from going to dark places on its own." The truth was that she knew she wouldn't have much time to cram in homework and some much-needed roommate cuddles upon her return. She only had about a week to catch up with everyone, and she didn't want to waste time with things like math and science.

Mikoto was carefully watching them from a couple of seats down, his void expression seeming to pierce the conversation even as he absorbed it entirely. "How'd that go, anyway?" He didn't feel pressured by the three sets of eyes that fell on him once he'd invited himself among them, but he did work on correcting his vagueness. "You seem pretty happy since you got back. How's the old man?"

A doubtful flicker crossed Neirah's cheerful expression for the briefest of moments before she offered him a kind smile. "He slipped away shortly after I arrived. He was already too far gone by the time I showed up for me to really offer much in the way of comfort, but… I guess I'm glad he held on long enough for me to say goodbye."

Her king could tell that Tatara and Izumo were already privy to this information by their downtrodden and guilty expressions diverting, but he otherwise didn't show a distinct reaction to the, not entirely unexpected, news. "That's too bad," he murmured evenly upon shifting his eyes over the liquor stock behind their bartender. "Sorry to hear."

Neirah immediately shook her head to deny his sudden concern. "No, you shouldn't be." Unlike her king, she did feel a little distressed by the three expectant gazes to linger on her despite her best attempts to avoid the attention. "To be honest, I feel like that should have hurt more than it actually did. But, for whatever reason, I'm alright with the way things turned out."

After scrutinizing her unchanging expression for a moment, Mikoto carefully pried deeper into the situation. "You okay, kid?"

"I am! Honestly!" Normally hints of her disdain could be distinguished in her shifting expression, but this time, not even Anna could pick up traces of her suffering from where she sat quietly on the opposing side of their king sipping her milkshake. Comprehending that it might be difficult for her friends to accept, Neirah lowered her tone to make it seem less like she was covering up a gloomier story. "I know that it might seem hard to believe right now…" A reminiscent smile livened her expression as her cheeks highlighted with a coral blush. "But I think I'm just ready to move forward."

Mikoto watched a knowing smile cross Izumo's face, and after absorbing it, he closed his eyes and let his own curl with a hum of consideration. "I guess that would be pretty hard to do if you were cursed, right?"

A wry look crossed Neirah's face when she cut her tapered leer his way. "How astute you are, King-sama."

Mikoto groaned below the sound of Tatara's spirited laughter tittering away on Neirah's opposing side. "Humour me, why don't ya?"

With a humbling sigh, Neirah's expression softened with fond sincerity. "I'm not cursed." Her voice was a near-whisper, and she almost repeated her words just to solidify their meaning in her heart. "I actually made a friend in Nagasaki. I even shook her hand the day we met over a month ago."

"I see how it is," Izumo sassed. "Maybe it was the blood, after all."

Hushing his superior with a gentle hiss, Tatara waved his hand towards the man to stifle the provocation. "I don't think now is really the time for that, Kusanagi-san. Nei-chan is having a serious moment now."

After fondly receiving Tatara's support, Neirah continued to address their king. "Her name is Kobayashi Asuka, and she lives in Isahaya, Nagasaki. She was in Tokyo looking for work because she, well, it's kind of personal." She turned her friendly smile towards Mikoto's curiosity. "But the thing is that she actually seemed like she was happier when I left. Like I somehow made her life better." She almost laughed at how ridiculous it seemed for her to consider how bleak and cynical she used to be. It all seemed so far away. "That would also be pretty hard to do if I was cursed, wouldn't it?"

Mikoto nodded his head like he was confirming something, and then he climbed to his feet. The effort caused Anna to gasp inquisitively by his side and pop her lips away from her straw before giving chase. When he turned away, he neared their resident hunter, and his casual grin lingered even with his intended departure. "That's good to hear."

"Where are you two off to?" Izumo pestered.

Mikoto seemed confused at first when Izumo addressed him as a duo, but that was when he felt Anna slide her fingers between the belt loops of his jeans. Huh? A deep sigh passed his lips as he shrugged off the company. "I'm goin' out."

"Well, since you're up." Izumo pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and unfolded some bills before passing them off to Tatara. "Wanna grab me a pack of cigarettes while you're gone?"

"E-eh? But Kusanagi-san, King is the one who's-"

"Thanks, Totsuka." The bartender didn't bother connecting their gazes, but all four of the individuals in their party realized that he was trying to isolate himself with Neirah for a while. He didn't bother raising his eyes to the sight of Tatara hesitantly standing to follow his king after sparing Neirah a worrisome glance in parting. It was clear that Izumo didn't feel the slightest guilt for his actions.

When Mikoto and company had moved towards their intended departure, picking up a couple more additions on their way across the bar, Rikio lingered for a moment and took notice of a lonely Neirah remaining behind. Concerned that she was feeling anxious about her return, he began to approach with the invitation to join their party. "Oi, Nē-chan, aren't you-?" Noticing Izumo raise his hand before Rikio could even near, the subordinate caught the underlying message transcending words.

"Hey, Rikio! You comin'?"

Rikio turned to where Misaki was beckoning him, and then looked back towards the bar where Izumo encouraged him to depart with the remainder of the group. "Uh… yeah, I guess."

Catching the sight of Neirah lingering, Misaki's brow tensed incredulously. "What about Tsukiyo?"

Quick to rush out a supportive response, Rikio interrupted Misaki before he could call to the woman. "Ah, I think she's just tired from her trip. We should probably let her rest a bit."

"Oh, uh, right. Sure thing." Tipping past Rikio's guard, Misaki waved back towards the bar in parting. "We'll be back soon, Kusanagi-san! Tsukiyo!"

"Have fun," Izumo hollered evenly. Once he watched the gathering depart, careful to notice that even Saruhiko had joined for the trek, he smiled with a relieved sigh. "Wow, talk about taking one for the team. Even with being so off-putting, that Mikoto sure does attract all kinds, doesn't he?"

Neirah offered up a light chortle of amusement to his scheming. "That wasn't even the slightest bit sneaky."

"Who's being sneaky?" he derided. "Besides, you looked like you needed a break from the mayhem for a little bit. So, you're welcome."

Even though her tone was low, her voice was lively with enthusiasm. "Believe me. I'm not as out of practice as you think. Yashi-san is uhm… well, she's a little wild. And after my father passed away, we spent a lot of time together. She showed me around the prefecture." She gave her flattening locks an instigating flick as she considered the effects of the humidity on them. "This was actually the product of her energy. She was convinced that I had to come back with a new look, for whatever reason, so we had a girl's day." She turned her beaming gaze back towards Izumo with a positive glow on her face. "I've never really had a girl's day before."

"That's not true," he defended playfully. "You and Anna go out all the time."

Neirah sighed to dismiss his insinuation. "Well, but Anna-chan is young. Too young to enjoy spa resorts or talk about boys."

Izumo's expression dropped with suspicion. "Did you two ladies do that a lot?"

She waved her hand to dismiss the topic as if she had misspoken, even though it was hard for her to do anything but, considering her family's contents. "I'm just saying. We didn't actually go to a spa either because her mother is a hairdresser. It was just an example."

"From what I've heard, this Kobayashi-san seems like a pretty fun young lady."

"She really is, and having her there with me in Nagasaki was a huge relief. I was actually sad to leave her." She tipped her furrowed expression towards her host with a tender smile. "It actually made me think about what I might want to do when I attend college."

Once he'd closed his eyes, Izumo's smile broadened with expectant pleasure. "I was wonderin' when we were gonna have this talk. So, you think you've finally figured it out?"

"I want to help people." She diverted her eyes to avoid the pressure of Izumo's enquiring expression. She could only imagine how ridiculous it sounded coming from the lips of an ex-assassin. "When I met Yashi-san on the plane, she really opened up to me. She told me things that… I don't think she says to a lot of people. Maybe she felt more comfortable because I was a stranger, but whatever the case, admitting some of these things to me really seemed to help her." She reconnected their gazes, a bashful heat flooding her cheeks as she continued. "It reminded me a lot of Tat-chan, except, our roles were reversed."

"That was unexpected," he admitted frankly. "I thought you liked fixing things?"

A heart-wrenching expression filled with hesitant ambition smiled back at him as she considered the developments of her life over the past few years, and he could see the mark it had made on her clearing conscience. "I do," she admitted confidently. "So that's why… I thought I might try my hand at fixing people as broken as I was when Tat-chan found me that night. I mean… not everyone has a Tatara."

"Okay. I'm impressed." Even though Izumo's chest ached with pride, he tried to keep his excitement muffled by his generally lax demeanour. "That was a real mature thing to say, Neirah."

"Thank you," she nearly whispered. "I sort of had an idea before Nagasaki, but Yashi-san really helped me see the potential. That's why Okazaki-san and I were working so hard before I left with our studies. I've got… a lot of work to do…" She cleared her throat awkwardly as she tipped her gaze over her shoulder towards the vacant storefront. "Speaking of… Okazaki-san… I don't suppose he maybe came by while I was gone?"

Izumo's expression dampened with misery to consider the last time the pair had interacted. "'Fraid not," he admitted bleakly. "The place has been pretty quiet around here since your last little tussle out front."

"I was afraid of that," she whispered distantly. "He isn't answering any of my messages either. I can't help feeling like that was just another one of the sacrifices I had to make to move forward. It seems like somebody always has to suffer."

Izumo fussed behind his bar but tried to remain supportive as they conversed. "Try not to let it get you down," he kindly reassured her. "Okazaki's a pretty durable guy. Yata-chan literally knocked him in the teeth with his skateboard, and he still came wanderin' back into the lion's den." He clasped the lid and base of a stainless-steel tumbler in either hand to secure it before letting the contents mingle with ice. "Besides, you know how he is. Once he sets his mind to something, you just can't keep him down."

"He was so patient with me," she muttered sadly. "Even if he hates me from now on, I'd just like to take a moment and apologize for being so hard on him. He deserves to be thanked for supporting me, not exiled."

"I'm sure you'll get your chance." After pouring his mixed contents into a tall cocktail glass and garnishing it with lime, he slid the concoction across the bar with a mischievous smile. "Here, I want you to try this for me."

A quizzical expression seized Neirah's face as she glanced at the glass that he'd slid in front of her. The liquid at the bottom was a cherry red, but it faded into a blood-orange gradient as it approached the sugared rim of the cup. "Wait, didn't you just-?"

"Yep."

"With-?"

"Sure did."

She eyed him expectantly as she leaned forward and tentatively sniffed the offering. "But… Kusanagi-san, I'm only eighteen."

"That's why you're not gonna tell anyone else about it," he assured her in mild command. "But I suppose, today's kinda special, isn't it? So, it should be okay." He reached out and nudged the drink forward. "You're just talking like such an upstanding young lady today that I'm havin' a hard time treatin' you your age again."

Neirah's pigment bashfully darkened as she pouted her mistrust. "Onii-chan is being suspicious."

"They call it a Lion's Tail," he interrupted with a reassuring smile. "I've started teaching Totsuka how to mix drinks so that he can run the bar for me while I'm away. He seems interested enough, but you know how he is…" His voice trailed as he diverted his worrisome gaze. "He just moves from one thing to the next, y' know? Sometimes I worry about that kid. He wasn't quite himself while you were away. I figured I had to do something to keep him busy or morale was gonna plummet around here."

He tried to lighten up as he carried on. "Now, don't ask me why, but when I started this, the first thing he did was try to imagine what sort of drink he'd mix for you when you got back. I told him not to worry about it because you're still underage, but he laughed it off like you know he does and then pretended like it was all theoretical."

Feeling inspired to take the offering without repercussion, Neirah tangled her fingers around the crystal stem and slowly slid the mixture towards the edge of the bar. "But then, why are you making it for me instead?"

"I just didn't think it would be something you would appreciate, given your tastes," he admitted with a weak chuckle. "I suggested a White Russian, seein' as it's mostly cream. But he insisted." Izumo seemed despairing when he picked up a glass and a terry cloth to polish it. "He said it reminded him of a red sunset and made that sound important. Then when he found out that it had 'lion' in the name, there was no talkin' him out of it."

Neirah let a small and appreciative smile creep over her face to consider the offering. "There are people out there who take the time to appreciate things like that…"

"He just got so into it, raving about how perfect it was, and all that. But if you didn't like it, after all, he would just go on smiling like everything in the world was just right." He heaved another weighted sigh with bleak notes sounding in the exasperated gesture. "But, you know how he is."

Neirah's stomach began to bind with unpleasant knots as she considered the drink presented. She could tell that Izumo was worried about her friend, but it was hard to confront him about his troubles when all he did was assure you that everything was fine. Something had obviously happened while she was away. "So, you wanted me to try it with you first so that if someone wore it, it would be you and not him, is that it?" She laughed lightly with her spirited prompt. "A noble gesture."

"I don't expect him to make it for you anytime soon, but if I'm still coaching him for a while, I might be able to slide him some constructive criticism to make it more bearable for you when the time comes. I've already added more syrup to make the base redder. He and Anna-chan agreed that was important."

"Nothing is more important than red," she whispered earnestly.

Izumo slowly turned over his shoulder and watched her dip her finger into the glass to taste the tang of lime surfacing in the layered cocktail. He smiled when she screwed up her face. He knew that she wouldn't be pleased with so much lime. "I think you and him really need each other," he admitted vaguely. "I'm not really sure how I mean that, though. I mean, you and him have always had somethin' strange goin' on there. He calms you down, and you keep him focussed. But take one of you out of it, and things just fall to chaos."

"Kusanagi-san is taking it too seriously."

"Maybe," he muttered vacantly. "All I know is that things are better when you're stuck like glue. So, stick around… for my sanity's sake, at least."

Neirah cast him a sardonic leer over her impish smirk. "Don't worry. I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. I need Tat-chan in my life more than he could ever need me, so, whether he likes it or not, I'm going to stay by his side forever." She said the words confidently.

A faint grin was brightening Izumo's expression as he turned and watched her take a sip of her drink. "Forever's a damn long time, y' know."

Through her knotted face, she still managed to look happy. "Keh… sour," she coughed. "Well, is there something longer than forever? If there is, I choose that one."

"Yeah, somethin' strange for sure," he murmured. "So? What d' ya think?" Izumo's breathing hitched in his throat the moment he turned to see a stray tear crawl out of her darkly framed eye to slide over her cheek and meet her smile.

"I think Tat-chan is the most thoughtful person in the entire world."

Izumo's throat burned as he comprehended her vague response, but he was glad that he caught no more than a single tear glistening against her skin. "I… kind of meant the drink."

A faint snicker squeaked past her lips as she considered her first sip. "At first, it was really sour and off-putting," she admitted delicately. "But the syrup made it kind of sweet, and then it leaves you with a nice warm feeling on the inside." Her eyes sparkled with an endearing sentiment as she turned her tender smile towards him. "And I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

Hearing as Neirah scrutinized the layers of the traditional cocktail humbled Izumo in a way that he hadn't expected. When she put it to him so bluntly, he felt a little silly for ever suggesting that she might not enjoy it. Maybe she didn't like sour flavours, but there was certainly something in that glass that she could appreciate. Huh… Izumo diverted his attention, a sheepish grin on his lips as he stared across the bar with rampant thoughts. "I guess I didn't have anything to worry about, then, did I?"

"Maybe it tastes better because I'm just so happy to be home."

"Yeah… Yeah, that might be it," he admitted mildly. "Welcome home, little lion."