Kunai


November 20th, 2010

It was late enough to be returning that all the halls were dark and quiet. Most of the elaborate dormitory was still, and no doubt, housing many slumbering faces that Saruhiko hadn't learned to recognize yet. He didn't care to, and actually, he put forth a great effort to resist so much as learning their names. It wasn't his intention to replace red faces with blue ones, and the more time he spent occupied with work, the less time he had to think about it.

There was a dull groan sliding past grinding teeth as he reached out to his room's door handle with one hand, his other drawing to the popped collar his superior was regularly riding him about straightening. It seemed like HOMRA wasn't the only clan with a busty bombshell bent on making every one of their clanmate's lives difficult.

Sakura. His nerves strained as he drew the scent to the forefront of his mind, tricking himself into remembering the way it smelled when she laid across his lap. "Damn it," he muffled under his breath through his intolerant scowl. "Why the hell… did I have to compare them?" When his suspicious gaze assured him that no one else was looking, he slipped his fingers beneath his shirt to itch at the self-inflicted burn attempting to blot out the memories. "They aren't even remotely the same."

Even knowing that he belonged to the faction surrounding him, it didn't stop his shifty, lethargic gaze from peering over his shoulder before he entered his room. It was his and his alone, so why he felt like he anticipated someone might try to join him was inconceivable. Even though Seri suggested that he room with Gin, his decline was swift and concrete. Gin may have been a member long before Saruhiko was, but every time he looked past the man's crimson spectacles, he saw Tatara. The similarities, even in personalities, were uncanny. If they had forced him to room with the man, it was likely that he'd kill him.

No matter the lengths he went to, he couldn't seem to escape HOMRA's shadow trailing him wherever he roamed, and it was maddening. The deep crease in his brow and the tug of fatigue made his analytical gaze sag, noting that it might have something to do with the strain of making his mark in SCEPTRE4 territory. For someone who wasn't particularly energetic on any given day, he'd become a bit of a workaholic.

Dismissing the surreal feeling knotting his face, he closed himself into his blackened room and locked the door behind him on pure instinct. When he comprehended what he'd done, he heard Misaki's words cut over his meandering thoughts and chill him like a ghost had just slipped through him:

"You should probably lock the door behind me."

Tsk.

Saruhiko's chest began to heave as the pace of his eager scratching hastened, his trim nails tearing at the flesh that remained branded by red memories. He wanted to know why he was locking it, was it to keep someone out? Or to barricade himself in? Why was that what Misaki wanted? Did the idiot even realize what he was saying before he said it? His free hand began to wring the steel lock like it might answer his angry thoughts. Lock it. Lock the door. But why did he have to lock Misaki on the other side? Which one of them was that benefitting?

Just as his thoughts threatened to draw a livid bark from his chest, they derailed, and the crash of realization made his heartbeat race when his fingers suddenly stilled against his collar. Once his itching had stopped tainting the silence with white noise, his senses sharpened, and he captured his next few breaths in his lungs. After a brief moment of consideration, he heard a delicate shuffle that he could have easily mistaken for the wind, and his next heartbeat brought him to life.

With wide eyes focussed on the way the shadows closed in around him, he snapped a set of throwing knives between his knuckles, launching them into the darkened room. The dull thump of contact didn't satisfy him, though. Until he heard desperate cries of pain, agonized screams, he wouldn't let up his offensive rain. Blades combed his other wrist before they sailed, and two free hands afterwards shot behind his back to draw more.

Whirling to follow the whisper of movement mocking the delicacy of the leaves tumbling from the fall coloured trees outside, Saruhiko carelessly pitched the third set of knives into the walls of his room. As the blades neared the window, he finally saw it, the shadow of a hunter on the prowl. As his teeth began to grind, he tapered his gaze with focus and grabbed a final knife from his boot. What he thought was going to come out as an aggravated growl broke as a full-on roar as he straightened his arm and laid his lethal trap.

"Why are you running?!" Wincing with the sound of his voice cracking the peaceful façade of the dormitory, he lowered it but deepened the command in his tone. "If you think that I don't know you're there, you're even more empty-headed than I thought!"

Saruhiko's gaze widened to the sight of a glimmer intercepting the moonlight filtering through his window, and in the next instant, he was catching one of his returned throwing knives as it threatened to pierce his skull. There was only one other person he knew capable of mimicking his lethal force with as much accuracy as he could, and it was not a welcome one.

Saruhiko began to seethe impatience the moment the muffled clicking of spiked heels sounded, leaping from their perch and pacing towards him. Of course, her footsteps only made a noise when she wanted to announce her presence. It was a scare-tactic, but Saruhiko could never allow himself to cower from the likes of her. Their relationship had been a battle since day one, and it was one he refused to lose.

He didn't think to question how she managed to drop from the walls, perhaps because he felt guilty for his offensive poking so many holes into them. As her footsteps grew closer, the rhythmic tapping echoing in his hollow mind, he began to choke on the palpitations of his heartbeat while they hammered against his chest. It wasn't fear, but it wasn't entirely angry either. He didn't want to admit that it was excitement, but between all three, his lean body rushed to action her threat. As soon as the moonlight illuminated her sultry leer burning with an amethyst flicker, he was arming himself with another handful of darts.

"You shouldn't be here," he hissed lowly. His relaxed posture began to strain as one set of fingers dusted the door at his back, his armed hand carefully folding across his front in preparation for the conflict. "This isn't where you belong!"

Neirah walked over her hands as he lunged towards her, successfully dodging the first knife. Once she had, her legs bloomed as she spun, one of them striking him hard in the chin to force him to back off. Flexing her wrists with a feminine grunt of exertion, she popped back onto her toes and watched him rub his assaulted face, his rage intensifying.

When the glistening of black steel was on approach again, she made an effort to catch one of his knives and use it to deflect a second, giving his sleek dart a skillful twirl between nimble fingers. "You know, I always liked your knives better." She could tell by the way his steps were retreating that he was running low on ammunition, and the realization made her shiver with anticipation. It was the reason why she had tied a chain to hers, so she would never find herself so vulnerable when danger lurked near. "They're so much more versatile."

Saruhiko moved to draw his sabre as the shadow approached. Still, before he made the emergency command to release it, Neirah was leaping into his proximity and lurching to her feet. She beat the butt of her palm against the underside of his jaw, and when he snapped his head back into line prepared to retaliate, his pulse met the pressure of her notorious golden kunai.

Saruhiko's chest heaved with the stress of his assault, and the tickle of steel against his swallow caused his dark eyes to burn with ferocity. "Why are you here?" His tone was flat and quiet when he snarled it as venomously as he could between bared teeth.

There was a playful shimmer in her lively sapphire gaze as she beat her lashes mock-flirtatiously in his direction. "How many more of those do you have stashed around your person?" she sang in a dark whisper. "Or did you bring them all out to say hello?"

With silent reflexes shifting imperceptibly beneath her threat, Saruhiko reached behind the unfurling tail of his uniform jacket to unveil his last defence. Knocking her away with unrelenting force, he grasped her upper arm and spun her shoulders into his chest. After she crashed into his body with a momentary lapse of stability, he snugly pinched the tip of his blade into her jaw's belly.

It wasn't unexpected, but when she burst into sultry laughter, every muscle in his body tightened. "Stop that…" he growled quietly against the side of her head. She didn't, and he couldn't contain his anger. "Do you think this is some kind of a joke?!"

Neirah closed her eyes, rolling her head against him as her smile broadened. "Ah, there it is," she hummed fondly. "So, you were paying attention."

Pressing his lips against her soft auburn waves, he muttered his words snidely against the cherry scent that should have warned him of her presence before he'd ever let her into his dorm. "Something I picked up from a past life," he snarled. "I always keep one in reserve in case I have to go for the kill."

Neirah tipped her head back into his collar, causing him to chase her pulse with his blade. "Oh, please," she whispered. "If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now."

As his agitation festered, his free hand raised to his collar to give his desecrated HOMRA brand an itch. "What do you want, Tsukiyo?"

He let his guard down. Twisting her impish grin to one side as she shifted, she made a risky advance and caught his ankle with her heel. When she kicked him off balance with the pressure, she folded at the hips to avoid his flailing blade. Confident that she had proven her point, she latched onto his strained forearm, cracking his wrist with a brutal twist to disarm him. Once he'd released his last hope, she spun while crouching, allowing the delicate instrument to drop into her palm at her tailbone.

When she rose again, she made sure to sink the tip of his knife into ivory flesh, where his collar met his neck, pinching the tense artery in warning as it swelled with annoyance. But before he could consider knocking her away, he felt the warning jab of her decorated blade prod against his ribcage. Having his life threatened by an ex-clanmate was appalling enough, but of all the people who could have ambushed him, it had to be the one who could complicate the situation the most.

"You seem to have an itch?" Her frosty mockery murmured so close to the tip of his chin that he could feel the softly exerted breath heaving her tension. It made his molars grind. "Shall I scratch it for you?" Her tone, like her gaze, thinned as she focused on the venom she poured into her sultry sentiment. "Or should I carve it out instead?"

For as long as he'd known her, her gaze had never intimidated him. It was one of the only things he appreciated about the fiery spirit before him. So, when he watched it glaze over with bloodlust, it triggered an undesirable reaction within him and caused his body to stiffen.

Sensing his unease, she trailed his ebony blade over his skin towards the ruined mark barely concealed beneath his white collar. She let the tip flirt with the black lines for a moment before poking his shirt out of the way, careful to keep her pressure on his ribs. "This seems a little unnecessary," she whispered. Cocking her head to one side, she slowly twisted his knife like the way the lines disfigured with scaring memorized her. "I suppose this should make me angry… should it?"

The taste of defeat was bitter as he lazily dropped his head back against the door that she'd pinned him to with an exhausted sigh. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the moonlight cast the shadows that previously concealed her stalking form. After a dry swallow banished the knot from his throat, he spoke in a deceitfully passive voice that failed to reflect his command. "How did you get in here?"

"How do you think?" she cooed roguishly. "The same way I always do." Her smile wickedly broadened as she lowered her hand to his collar and peeled back the cashmere flap to reveal his damaged brand. "You let me in."

Knotting his brow with a jumble of emotion caused a flash of pain to disrupt his impatience. He was so busy hating HOMRA that he had ignored his senses, warning him that someone was watching. It was a rookie mistake and shame he promised he wouldn't feel again. She moved soundlessly and as fluidly as the wind. When she was a threat on his heels, he couldn't afford to be distracted. "You know, sometimes I wonder if you're even human."

Neirah lowered her weapons, eagerly accepting his invitation to be civil. She hadn't wanted anything different, but his reception was rather rude. Still, his sour tone made her sing her amusement in a playful wave of laughter as she casually dusted her thumb over the irritated brand they used to share. "Charming as always."

The moment Neirah's soft finger touched the scars of his wounded collar, his once tapered gaze burst open to the sight of blood, hope and trust flooding the backs of his eyes with feelings that had no perceivable image. What he felt deep in his core was unexplainable. Anger was what he wanted to claim led his body to shudder so suddenly, but when it began to tremble, he had to acknowledge the notes of fear and betrayal too.

Saruhiko shoved away from the woman, panting frantic breaths as he clutched the mark with a searing palm and stared into her curious eyes with mortification in his. "What did you just do?" he demanded in an escalated hiss. He quickly checked his back, searching the room for the sight of whatever illusion stirred behind tired eyes, not a moment prior.

Neirah was startled by his sudden rejection, but she didn't know why it seemed unexpected out of someone like him. She raised her fingertips to her lips thoughtfully and considered his reaction as she watched the panic steal him away. Her concerned gaze never left the sight of his alarm, so it wasn't surprising that their eyes connected again when he'd settled.

After meditating on his panic for a moment, he'd begun to catch his breath. He removed his palm from the mark she'd stirred, checking his hand before reconnecting their gazes. What he'd felt was something he couldn't explain, which was what startled him the most. He considered himself a rather intelligent mind, so when something confused him to that extent, it was nothing short of alarming. It was vaguely reminiscent of different feelings. Feelings he had when Misaki used to brush his knuckles up against the same mark, only this time, it didn't fill him with warmth and familiarity. I was something much darker.

"Anywhere but there," he rushed out under a ragged breath. He dropped his gaze from hers, beginning to regain his composure as he gripped his collar and slowly concealed the mark again. "Anywhere," he repeated in a hoarse whisper. As his tapered gaze focussed on the way her shadow cast on the floor, he slowly shook his head in denial of a repeated offence. "Not there."

Neirah wasn't sure what suddenly happened, but when she considered how skittish Saruhiko could be, it reminded her not to act surprised. "Fushimi-san? Is everything okay?"

Tsk. Flashing her teeth, he turned away and began picking his knives out of the walls. Seri would be furious with the damage he caused, and explaining himself wasn't going to be easy. He had no problem condemning HOMRA, but to admit that he let their hunter infiltrate their ranks only to escape wasn't something he thought his pride could handle. "Go home, Tsukiyo," he frigidly commanded. "If you're here to tell me how much you miss me and beg me to come back, don't waste your-"

"I'm here to pick your brain."

The last thing he wanted was to have her back in his head after so long without worrying that she was secretly reading his trauma. He had spent so much time avoiding making eye-contact after his momentary panic attack that he hadn't noticed her climbing up into the top bunk of his bed. He ripped out the last blade, his lips relaxed as they parted, and careful eyes watched her smile softly as she drew her math textbook from her shoulder bag.

"Homework."

Suddenly, the familiarity had stopped warming him, and he focussed on icing his heart to her insistent charm. He let his expression deadpan, his lacklustre gaze burning duly with agitation. "Get out."

Even though he'd just tossed his reassembled arsenal out onto his desk, she didn't feel threatened enough to leave his bed. "But you know how empty-headed I am," she pouted. "How am I going to get into a good college if I don't keep my math marks up?"

"That sounds like a you problem."

"It's your problem too."

With a furious bark, Saruhiko whirled to face her persistence. "Don't sit there and act like nothing's changed! You know damn well that this is wrong, so quit acting like a spoiled brat!"

"Do you want it to change?" Neirah's eyes sharpened, her confident expression meeting his intensity with unwavering devotion. She could be innocent and feminine when she felt like it, but she didn't want Saruhiko to forget that there was more to her than the sides that he despised. There were also parts of her that she was confident he felt were tolerable.

"I won't pry into your reasons for leaving, just like I never bothered to ask you why you didn't get along with the other members of HOMRA." She lowered her voice to reassure him that she wasn't angry with his defect to the Blue Clan. "My opinion of you hasn't changed. You're moody, irritable, grating and cold." She finally surrendered the intensity of his gaze and dropped hers to scan the unfamiliar room. "But you're my friend."

Saruhiko couldn't keep his tense fingers from mechanically rising to itch at his collar. "You and I were never friends." He had to hate her, that much hadn't changed, because no matter what, he couldn't admit that he missed her.

Without taking the threat in his tone, Neirah casually flopped back on his pillow with a soft sigh, opening her textbook to her intended assignments. "Says you."

"Oi, cut that out!" he barked intolerantly. "That's where I sleep, you little pest!"

"I know." She didn't mean to cause him to startle below, but despite his resistance, she knew him better than he thought. Maybe she didn't understand why he left HOMRA, but she knew that there were some aspects that he missed. The top bunk would always be his.

Neirah slowly closed the textbook, rolling onto her front and meeting his impatient glower as it poked over the edge of the top bunk. It didn't matter how lethal his expressions were. She couldn't keep the smile off her face as they lingered nose-to-nose. "I think we would have made a great team. Such a shame that we have to hate each other now." She sighed blissfully and laid her chin against her folded arms.

His low growl was partly muffled by the sheets that were dusting against his lips as he spoke. "As usual, you have no regard for personal space."

"You're quite handsome in blue. I don't know if you knew that." Testing him further, she rolled her chin against his mattress, reaching out to comb her fingers through his hair with his new part. Her heart fluttered when he didn't immediately threaten to break her arm, and her soft smile peeked through as she retracted her greedy paw. Now, if only she could get that unimpressed scowl off his face. A playful song filled her melodic tone as she giggled and withdrew her offending arm to fold it with the other against his sheets. "But if you tell my clan I said that I'll kill you~"

Saruhiko lingered for a moment on the rungs of the ladder, wondering if that was how Misaki used to feel when he teased him from a similar spot. After closing his eyes with surrender, he heaved a heavy sigh and reached past her curious pout to take hold of her math textbook. "I swear, it's like you left the other half of your brain in Nagasaki."

Her sunny smile flushed with bashful heat as she considered how familiar the entire encounter felt. "Nope. I just found the other half of my heart."

He jolted uneasily to the impact of her sentiment, but he couldn't afford to feel guilty for what he was about to do. Steadying himself on the ladder, he took her textbook in both hands, closing his eyes and raising it above their heads. Without a second thought, he cracked the book over the top of her crown, unfeeling to her pained yip. "Then take what's left of your brain, and your heart, and get out."

"O-owie," she whimpered. "And Onii-san wonders why I hate math..."

A delicate yelp stole her breathless gasp when Saruhiko picked her from his bed by her collar, dragging her from the bunk despite her desperate scramble. "I'm not going to ask again," he cautioned her bitterly. He hauled her to his door and shoved her book between her empty hands, trying not to recall a night that had played out similarly in their past. "And don't even think of getting cheeky. Cat or not, the next time I catch you in my room, I'll kill you."

As disappointed as she was, Neirah couldn't contain her sad smile. "You're just going to toss me out into the hall of the SCEPTRE4 dormitory? You know full well that if someone sees me, they'll be suspicious."

"I could send you out bloody if you prefer."

What sounded like a threat, was really an expression of trust. Neirah and Saruhiko were both aware of how complicated things would become if someone caught her sneaking around the area late at night. Sending her out of his room through the front door was a bold move, but he knew that if she didn't want someone to see her, they wouldn't. She was an assassin and skilled in her trade. Her threats were as empty as his. They always had been.

"I missed this."

Saruhiko flinched, a little shaken by the unexpected sincerity in her tone speaking words that he couldn't bring himself to say. That level of honesty rarely came out when they were bickering, but when it did, it always threatened to soften his heart.

"I don't begrudge you for what you did," she whispered. "But I just wanted you to know that my life wouldn't be the same without you in it. We were never really on the same page, anyway, so to me, nothing's changed." She didn't want it to, and it made her wonder. If they had asked him to stay, would that honesty have been enough to keep their world from shifting?

When he looked like he finally finished contemplating his next sarcastic quip, she smiled fondly and gently rolled the lock over on his door. A mischievous little giggle sounded as she cracked the door. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll be back to annoy you the next time my feet ache."

Saruhiko groaned and rolled his eyes, already missing the sincerity that he thought he hated. "Try it, and I'll break them," he susurrated low in warning. "I'll start with the right one. That's the one you lead with."

He stilled, taken off-guard by the words to leave his mouth. 'Why did I say that?' he mused through his aggravation. 'Who the hell cares which one she leads with!?'

"Don't you dare talk about Tsukiyo like you ever cared to know a fucking thing about her!"

"Get out!" He closed his eyes, dropping his head with his livid roar. Saruhiko wasn't sure which of them he was talking to, Neirah or the nagging voice in his head tugging at heartstrings that he wished he didn't have. "Get out, and don't even think of coming back!"

Neirah's heart raced as she lined the wall with her back and peeked out the door to make sure nobody was out wandering at that hour. Despite his eruption, she didn't rush away. With a sly little grin, she peeked his way for just a moment to remind him why they would always make a good team. "You'll take care of the surveillance footage, no?"

With a frustrated hiss, Saruhiko threw open his door, grabbed her by her collar and tossed her into the hall. He slammed his door loud enough to wake the entire building, and Neirah had to fight to stifle her entertained laugh when she heard the lock snap bitterly back into place.

Saruhiko slammed his shoulders against the door and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Once his nerves had settled, he quietly rolled his gaze to where her alluring scent undoubtedly tainted his pillow. As he approached the empty bed, he slowly reached up to where her presence had tainted his pillow. He grabbed the cushion tightly enough that if it drew breath, he'd be choking the life from it. After snatching the support from the bottom bunk to swap them, he bitterly tossed the cherry-scented betrayal against the lower mattress. Then he lingered for a moment, wondering to whose benefit he acted. It was strange how familiar his actions felt.

His fingers tightened in the case of the second pillow as he climbed to the top bunk and settled it into place. "Oh, Misaki," he rumbled dimly to himself. "The things I do for you…"

A flushed grin found Neirah's face as she lowered her eyes to her PDA screen, and she plucked away on the keys as she casually walked down the hall. Her ears perked to the sound of a startled yelp a couple of rooms down as someone clamoured through sleep, and she paused as the ellipse announcing Gin's reply to her message constructed. She glanced down at her mobile as his response came in almost instantly.

To Okazaki. G at 12:42 a.m.: Are you still awake?

To Okazaki. G at 12:42 a.m.: Fushimi-san is being moody and won't help me study.

To Okazaki. G at 12:43 a.m.: Do you think you could spare a minute?

From Okazaki. G at 12:44 a.m.: Hey! Ya of course im up! but where do u want to meet?

Neirah sniggered devilishly as her fingers tapped on the illuminated screen. By the sound of the noises, it was clear that he roomed just down the hall from Saruhiko, and when she checked the door beside her labelled with a nameplate stating the contents, it made him easier to locate.

To Okazaki. G at 12:45 a.m.: How about your place?

The ellipse lasted for a long time as she waited for his next reply. It would stop for a few moments, and then mark that he was retyping his response. It made her stifle a giggle. She thought it was pretty much a yes or no question.

From Okazaki. G at 12:52 a.m.: is that even allowed?

HOMRA's assassin ignored his concern as she pulled up next to the room marked with his name, a devious smile on her face. When she saw that his nameplate was single like Saruhiko's, she contemplated knocking with a wicked grin on her face, but then responded to his message instead. Better safe than sorry. She could hear him receive it on the other side of the door.

To Okazaki. G at 12:52 a.m.: Who is your roommate?

From Okazaki. G at 12:53 a.m.: ah, well no one right now, but dōmyōji-kun, is visiting why?

From Okazaki. G at 12:54 a.m.: wait a sec, how did you know we had roommates?

Neirah could hardly contain her sinister beam as she tucked her mobile away and inhaled a deep breath on the other side of the door. "Well, this should be entertaining."


"Ikusen mono koosasuru michi de bokura wa deaetta, hashagi attari, fuzakeatari shita ano hi, katari akashita yume no asa ashidori mo karuku-"

"Massugu na manazashi de- eh?" From where the bathroom door was wide open, the sound of splashing water filled Tatara's ears. When Neirah flopped over against the tub ledge with her hair piled on top of her head, she glowered at the open doorway like she could see him from where she sat. "Tat-chan, why did you stop!?" Her cheeks puffed with a bitter pout as she sank deeply into her bathwater. "You can't just stop for no good reason."

Tatara sat on the floor with his guitar in his lap, and he smiled playfully before turning his notebook page. "But it was for a good reason. I got to hear Nei-chan sing on her own."

Neirah lowered her face against the basin until she could blow bubbles in the water. "How embarrassing."

"Why?" Tatara calmly interjected from their shared living space. "You have a pretty voice. I think that you sing it better than I do!"

In her bath, Neirah balled her fist and struck the water's surface with a clumsy splash. "Sacrilege!" she commanded. "Tat-chan has the voice of ten thousand angels!"

"Wow, that many, huh?" He scratched at his lip sheepishly before returning to his notes. "Actually, I'm pretty close to being done. Now I just have to get up the nerve to play it for everyone." The distance between them seemed to be quiet for a long time before he spoke again. "Hey, I don't suppose-"

"Not on your life, pretty boy."

Tatara groaned and dropped his head with an exhausted sigh. "Ah, Nei-chan is a fine flower with many thorns," he grumbled. He flipped through a couple more pages, strumming out parts of his song that he needed to polish. Neirah hummed a couple of times, but he didn't catch her singing along with him again. Then, when he found a set that he was mainly focused on, he lingered on that section of his notebook and instigated elsewhere.

"Say, Nei-chan?"

"Not singing for King-sama."

Tatara groaned. "So much for being in this together," he sassed under his breath. "Actually, I was wondering where you went tonight. I messaged Kusanagi-san to ask if he knew, and he didn't. You were gone for a pretty long time." He startled to the sound of thumping commotion filtering through the steam that made his heart palpitate. "Ah, are you alright in there? You're not drowning, are you?"

"H-hah… sorry, Tat-chan," she rattled out nervously. "I was rinsing my hair."

Tatara's brow incredulously knotted as he hit a sour note. "But I thought you tied your hair up?"

"Nowhere," she corrected swiftly. "I was nowhere. I just went for a walk to get some fresh air. Which is somewhere, but nowhere of particular interest."

With a gentle chortle, Tatara returned to his strings with a knowing smile. "You wouldn't have happened to run into Fushimi-san on this walk, would you?"

Complete silence followed.

"H-how did you… know that?"

After cocking a brow, Tatara picked up his phone and scrolled through his messages. "Ah, it might have been the threatening message I received warning me that if I didn't get my roommate under control, there would be trouble."

The silence extended for another long moment before the rustling of water sounded in the apartment again. "He didn't just say trouble, did he?"

"No, he was quite specific."

Neirah groaned and flopped back into her bath with a gentle sigh. "Fine, you win. I went to see Fushimi-san," she murmured. "Please don't tell Yata. He's pretty sensitive over the whole thing."

"Well, of course, he is," Tatara sassed. "They were best friends, after all. Just how would you react if I up and left?"

Silence.

"You'd probably kill me."

Neirah sighed her understanding surrender. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to mind my own business and not try to bring them back together?" When the silence returned on his end, her expression flattened. "What am I saying? I'm talking to you. You are the king of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Eh? I don't know how fair that is…"

"That's being generous." Neirah sighed and stepped out of her bath. Releasing the pins in her bun, she let her hair spiral down around her shoulders with the shake of her head. "No matter, though. I promised myself that I wouldn't interfere. I don't have time to worry about these things with all this homework piling up." Their lives had been full of action recently, and despite how relaxed Neirah felt when she completed her scented soak, she still regretted that she would spend her Sunday playing catch-up.

She sighed blissfully and turned to retrieve her towel when she realized that there hadn't been one available. "Bah, I could have sworn that I had a towel in here," she whined. "It's too cold for this nonsense. Tat-chan! Close your eyes. I forgot to bring a towel into the bath with me again."

Eh? He hummed casual curiosity from where he sat in the middle of the room just outside the door. "I could grab you one if you'd like."

His breathing hitched nervously in his throat as Neirah stepped into the room stark naked, as promised, and a part of him expected that her warning would have given him a grace period. Then, to make matters worse, she was checking to make sure he wasn't peeking, which he was blatantly exceeding in expectation. It caused their eyes to lock, and both forms to stiffen. "O-oh… you meant… right now," he choked out apprehensively. "S-sorry."

Neirah sighed and dropped her chin towards her collar, where she kept her arms folded modestly over her chest. "Well, it can't be helped," she groaned. "This wouldn't be the first time I've scared you for life."

"I wish you wouldn't say those things…"

Neirah startled, shifting slightly to make sure her hands covered as much of her glistening bust as possible. "I-I'm sorry?"

There wasn't so much as a sheepish flush in Tatara's cheeks as he locked his eyes with hers as sternly as he could muster. "I noticed it the other night too. What you said to Awashima-san on that rooftop," he reminded her dryly. "You told her that pretty girls were boring. You said it like you held her to a higher standard."

Surprisingly, the immodest brunette's cheeks were the ones to flush as the damp ends of her hair tickled her accentuated HOMRA brand. "That was just-"

"Nei-chan is beautiful." Even as Neirah startled to Tatara's sound and sincere compliment, he didn't shy away from her current state. "Sometimes, I get angry that I'm the only one who seems to appreciate that."

Neirah whimpered softly, watching his solemn expression drop to return to the strings he was plucking. Typically, being exposed wouldn't bother her, but she hadn't expected such a sober reaction out of her previously cheerful companion.

She slowly backed away from his post and darted into her room to grab a towel, fixing it around her torso before poking her head back into their living space. She watched him for another long moment before she finally slunk out into his presence to sate her curiosity. "Tat-chan?" she delicately pried. "W-what… what did you mean by that?"

This time, Tatara kept his eyes lowered as he flipped through his notebook, a meek smile brightening his previously melancholy expression. "King and I happened to visit Maki-chan the other day when we were out and about," he murmured. He knew that she was guilty from the moment he'd spoken the condemning announcement, but he humoured her anyway. "She said that you're afraid to look for love because of me."

Because Neirah tucked her towel around her front, she was able to reach both hands into her hair and wring her roots. "Kamiya-san misunderstands!" she shouted. "It's not-!" When she caught the despairing look in Tatara's distracted eyes, her heart began to ache, and she lowered her voice to a tender croon. "It's not… like she says…"

After sighing softly to calm his nerves, Tatara tipped his gaze towards her prying gaze. When he realized how heartbroken she looked, he offered her an affectionately reassuring smile for comfort. "I don't want you to feel like things will change if you find someone special," he admitted frankly. "I want you to find love. I want you to be loved…"

She wasn't encouraged by his gentle sentiment, so she defiantly crawled across the floor and draped herself over his lap in place of his guitar. "I already have all the love I could ever need," she pouted defiantly.

Surrendering to his needy roommate, Tatara let a bashful smile curl his lips as he set his guitar to the side with one hand, raising his second to stroke her damp hair over her shoulders. "You say that, but there are different kinds of love, you know. Some of them might be even better than this."

Neirah rebelliously shook her head without raising her chin from his thigh. "When Tat-chan finds different love, I will too," she promised. "Until then, this is all I need. Steamy baths and roommate snuggles."

A gentle laugh caught in his throat. "If you say so," he teased. "But if that's the case, then maybe you can tell me which one of us-"

"I already told you. I have no time," Neirah moaned. "I refuse to indulge your twisted fantasies."

"I still think it was Kamamoto."

"Kamiya-san says that Ri-chan and I can't date."

"But, of course," he teased. "Because you're not forty yet."

"Thirty!"

"Can you make me a promise then?"

Neirah gently rolled over in his lap, nuzzling his palm out of the way when her head turned into its casual stroke.

When she turned, he met her loving curiosity with a kind smile. "If it ever happens, promise me you'll let it," he teased half-heartedly. "I don't want to feel like I'm the reason you might miss out on something that could really change your life."

Neirah shuddered, clutching his pants between her hands as she reburied her flushed face against his lap with a defiant growl. "Too serious. Tat-chan is having too mature a conversation for me to handle right now." For some reason, at that moment, Maki's comment about kissing filled her mind again and caused her to whine in an attempt to chase out the images as her face burned hotter. "Ahh, too mature. Too mature! Kamiya-san's version of kissing is too mature."

A somewhat sinister chuckle emitted from behind Tatara's knowing smile as he took a chance at prying into the dark places her mind was taking her. "It might not be so embarrassing if you weren't thinking of doing it with-"

"NAHHH! Don't say anymore!" She pulled back onto her knees and covered her ears. "No! That's not what I'm thinking about! That's not- H-haaahhh…"

"So, do you have a preference over which Kamamoto you kiss?"

Neirah's burning gaze collided with his as she stubbornly scrutinized his certainty. With a low and somewhat reserved growl, she swatted playfully at his insistence. "It's not Ri-chan I'm thinking about!" While she was slapping him, the knot in her towel came loose, and the fluffy material whispered down around her sitting hips. She froze, a little humiliated to be so openly exposed, but Tatara didn't seem interested in her full naked front.

"… So, you are thinking about someone."

"Tat-chaaan!"