Ai's old SOLtiS body is coated with dust, locked under the grime of a room that is rarely, if ever, cleaned. Yusaku has not had the heart to build and install another Roboppi, so the cleaning, what little of it he makes the effort do, is half-hearted and sporadic at best.

And more importantly, for the past four months that body has been nothing but a source of pain for him. His eyes skirt round it in the mornings, carefully navigating their way onto the outline of the other objects of the room, like his desk, computer, and bed. And yet he cannot bring himself to throw it out; it serves as a reminder, of why exactly he can't let go.

He still remembers the far-too hollow weight of it in his arms, and the way the sun fell on the hair and the skin of those closed eyes, how everything in his heart felt heavy in response, an ice-cold weight that turned his feet to stone as they stumbled outside. He remembers the shine of light on the ocean, and how there was no room inside him to appreciate it's beauty, the way Ai would, the way he had, and the white glare of it battled against his watery vision as he made his decision. He remembers lugging Ai, the body of him at least, down that long path to the port, panting, sweat soaking his shirt as he gave in and called a taxi. Perhaps what he had done had been stealing, maybe the body, the only thing Ai had thought to leave him with, was supposed to remain the property of Sol Technologies, along with all those vacant copies he had left behind him.

But...Yusaku could never have left him – it – there. To be reformatted and wiped clean of any residual data that had once housed the complex programming that was Ai...it would have felt as though the world was saying that Ai didn't deserve so much as a memorial.

And now the SOLtiS, after months of being silent, a cold corpse that hogged up space, is blinking at him, smiling in what Ai probably thinks is a winning fashion.

'Goood Morning!' he chirps, despite the fact that it's one in the afternoon. He stretches, even though he has no muscles, no cramps or sore, stretched tendons to nurse, arms cast high over his head. Then he freezes. And a stern wrinkle appears in his brow.

'Oi, oi,' he says, sounding distinctly un-amused. 'What's this?' He strokes a single finger against his sleeve, dust clutching at his skin and leaving a slightly lighter trail of lavender fabric behind. His expression is absolutely appalled. 'Did you just leave these things on me to rot!? Have you ever even heard of a laundromat?' He shakes out the ends of his shirt with a look of outrage on his face.

Then without warning, he starts yanking off his clothes, grumbling as his curls get dragged through his collar and Yusaku just stares. Arms crossed, he watches, faintly interested as pale digital skin appears, unleashed from the barrier of waistcoats and . It's only marred somewhat by the thin lines of the jointed limbs beneath, not as bold as they appear on other SOLtiS, but still there, none the less. Ai's arms eventually free themselves of their long sleeves and the bright orange bands of light surrounding his wrists flash out; another casual remainder of how alien his body may be.

Ai blinks down at them and then freezes, halfway out of his trousers. 'You do have a washing machine right?' he asks after a moment, as though to cover up his strange, almost human surprise.

Yusaku frowns. 'There's a Laundromat halfway down the street,' he offers. 'Though going outside as you are now may cause some issues.'

Ai looks at him. Glances down at his half-naked form, and the faint shadows spilling out from his frozen limbs that barely cover a thing. The next second, he almost falls over as he struggles to yank everything back on again, all at practically the same time.

'Pervert! Aren't you ashamed, just watching me like a voyeur! You didn't even have the decency to turn away like a normal person!'

Yusaku doesn't know how to say that's he's changed multiple times in front of other naked boys at school for sports lessons, and that honestly, he doesn't see the big deal now. The only difference, aside from the obvious ones, is that Ai is...nicer to look at.

Two seconds later, Ai storms over to Yusaku's dresser and starts stealing his clothes in a huff. The next two hours are a whirlwind of Ai complaining about his style and how few options the laundromat has as he promptly takes over three different machines and sets them on different cycles so as to not ruin his clothes by washing them at the 'wrong' temperature. He seems scandalised when all Yusaku has to offer in reply is a bemused stare.

It doesn't end there. Even after hoisting them across the back of Yusaku's rickety bed-frame back home, so they can dry, he proceeds to hog Yusaku's sink in order to wash each individual crease of dirt from his boots. And then he uses all Yusaku's hot water cleaning every nook and cranny of the SOLtiS body, all while telling Yusaku, with a pointed smirk to resist 'peeking!'

It's amazing, really. Ai has been back in Yusaku's life for less than a day and already Yusaku wants to find a button to mute him somewhere. Or at least tell him to shut up. The words are on the tip of his tongue, dancing right there. But he bites them back, fastens his lips over them tightly. Because Ai doesn't have the same memories he does and without those, without a real attachment to Yusaku, he's more liable to toss him aside and run off.

Because Ai always leaves. It's what he does.

And...the way Ai looks him now. Openly calculating, in a way he would have made an effort to hide at the beginning of their previous partnership. And there's the way he likes to close the gap between them, invade his personal space, which makes him think that Ai is testing him. Waiting to see if he'll snap and prove some of Ai's darker suspicions right.

'Do you know how I was deleted last time?' he asks him abruptly, halfway through using Yusaku's spare toothbrush to clean out one of the thin crevice of an outline on one of his Ai-head earrings.

And Yusaku fights hard not to twist away, not to show the slightest strain of emotion. Because the look on Ai's face, in his eyes, as he gazes back at him silently states: I don't trust you.

'It was a result of your own actions,' he says, after a moment. 'I can't tell you how correct they were; mainly because I disagree with the results you got.'

Ai glares at him. 'That's not a real answer.'

'I know,' Yusaku says. 'But it's the only one you're getting. Without your memories, you don't have the context to help you understand why you got deleted in the first place.'

An hour after that, Yusaku is in the net, defeating random people with duels he has no passion for. He would not have done it, had no inclination to do it at all, except Ai had been there, twisting into his space, hand on his shoulder, lashes lowered and voice crooning out into a sultry drawl.

It is all 'please, Playmaker-sama,' and once, a quick, teasing, practically breathed-out, 'help me, Yusaku-chan' right in the centre of his ear where no one could hear it and make the connection between him and his current Playmaker avatar. It had felt hot, like a sudden heartbeat had fluttered into life in his simulated skin right there...and he can't remember the last time someone has ever been that close to him.

All of it, Yusaku is sure, the whisper, the touch, is a calculation drawing on his emotional attachment to Ai. Which of course this Ai is going to use ruthlessly, to wrestle whatever benefit he can from it. It's the logical thing to do.

Still. It seems a bit heavy-handed.

And now he's out of the net again, sitting on his bed. Ai of course, is in the SOLtiS. It still feels weird to see him actually walking around the apartment, instead of hovering in the Duel Disk.

'I know I've said it before, but it needs to be said again; you have horrible taste,' Ai tells him. He stalks over to the wall and runs a finger over the place the plaster has chipped away to reveal the brick beneath. He looks appalled. 'It's like you're inviting mice to come nest in here or something.'

'One pest has certainly already invited himself in,' says Yusaku carefully, leaning back on his arms. Because, alright; if Ai's willing to test him, let's see how he responds to similar treatment.

Ai instantly recoils, hand against his chest. 'How cruel! How can you say that to the one you're madly in love with!'

'I don't recall ever saying that,' Yusaku mutters, ignoring the petulant thump of his heart as it skitters within his chest at just the mere thought. 'You went and decided that all on your own.'

Ai casts an amused look at him. 'Data doesn't lie. I might, but my research, my observations, don't. Or rather: they can't.' Now he stalks towards Yusaku, each footfall carrying the death knoll of Yusaku's already low hopes. He slides down onto the bed like a cat, fingers papering over Yusaku's in a loose pat. And for a moment Yusaku can only stare at them, at the way it causes the spider-web-like creases in the bed-sheets beneath to deepen, to crunch up into actual folds of material. There's heat there, lying on his hand, solid bands of it, soft, like a real person's. Not as soft as Aoi's hand had felt, once upon a time, closing round his own above a bench, but close.

Ai sniggers, leans closer. Close enough for their forehead to touch, maybe for their mouths to brush each other if he chooses to lean in at all the right angles.

'You can't hide everything,' he murmurs. 'Do you know how much media I've digested this past week? There's so many references to how people's eyes can't lie, or how they're doorways to the soul or whatever. Yours are no exception.' His head tilts, just enough for the idea of a future kiss to take shape as a very real possibility in Yusaku's mind. 'Right now, looking at me, your pupils are dilated,' Ai whispers. 'How about that, huh?'

With a flash, Yusaku realises precisely why Ai has been approaching his face again and again after and during each duel today, why exactly, his eyes have persistently fastened on his. His body may be slightly different as Playmaker's on the net but his digital face still conveys the same expressions, still conveys the same instinctive wants.

He rips his hand away. His cheeks feel hot, in a way he can't quite remember them being. Because Ai is laughing at him and it sounds almost cruel.

Furious, Yusaku looks away. 'Did you learn anything else today?' he grits out.

Ai's laugh cuts off. Yusaku does not look back, not to see what kind of calculation is currently sharpening Ai's face.

'Yes,' says Ai. 'But they're still inconclusive.'

Inconclusive. That's a good way of putting it. Very...technical.

This is not his Ai, not really. Not yet. But. Yusaku still forces himself to turn round. 'Alright,' he says. 'Fine. I cared about you. You were important to me. The you who had all his memories, that is.' He looks at Ai, levelly. 'Which means I don't want whatever the 'media' you've been viewing tells you humans want. Not from as you are now.'

Ai's eyes widen.

'You should enter those variables into your next calculation,' Yusaku tells him roughly. Then gets up to make himself some food.

He rustles through the instant ramen packages, feeling furious, feeling something hot and heavy in his chest. All the nonsense about feeling lighter when you confess something...there's no place for it here. There's also a prickling awareness across the back of his neck, an itch digging its way across his skin that tells him, far more than the tell-tell rustle of Ai's cloak, that the other is watching him.

'Hey.'

Yusaku refuses to look up. Instead he sets the water boiling with a strong press of his finger.

'Yusaku...'

He is at least gratified to hear the guilt in Ai's tone. He crosses his arms and watches out of the corner of his eye as his partner fidgets, as he glances at Yusaku quickly, then away.

'I'm sorry,' he says in a rush, probably a little rougher than he would have done had his memories been intact. 'I don't actually want to hurt you.' He makes a face. 'Despite what all those many doomsday movies about AI taking over the world suggest.'

Yusaku fights down the surge of horror at the thought. For it has guiltily occurred to him that maybe Ai would be better off not remembering anything; he had only ever run those wretched simulations because Lightning had planted the thought in his head after all. But. Well. He's selfish. He wants Ai back, all of him, properly.

'I just don't want to get hurt either. And I'm a little too aware that you humans outnumber this poor little Ai-chan by a lot.'

Alright. Yusaku can understand that, at least.

'I'm not going to abandon you,' he says, still focusing on the bright red packaging of the ramen noodles. 'But I'm not going to play pretend with you either. Nobody likes being treated like an experiment.'

Ai lets out a slight hum, then Yusaku tenses as he feels two arms wrap round his middle, Ai's chin dropping down softly to rest onto his shoulder.

'How about a reward, then? There's nothing overly friendly about a hug, right?'

Yusaku closes his eyes, his mouth a firm line. He feels utterly exasperated. There's no way Ai hasn't digested enough media to know the difference between a hug between friends and a cosy cuddle between lovers familiar enough with other to lean into all the open contours of another body. Still. He supposes this is relatively tame by Ai's affectionate standards.

And it feels...nice. A comfort he never really thought he'd get to possess.

So Yusaku prepares his ramen, against the hum of Ai's motors, of his mouth, under the glow of Ai's amused eyes as they watch his hands work as though they're intrigued by some quaint, alien-looking ritual. And fights back against the urge to lean back into his partner's touch.

The night passes uneventfully. Ai is there when he wakes up, ready and waiting with a perky smile, and the relief that floods Yusaku's chest upon seeing him is only halted by him cynically wondering how much of that smile Ai actually means.

There's no school for him today. Or ever again maybe. Yusaku's not sure he can go back how he is right now. Not when Ai is sitting there, crossed-legged and incomplete, on the floor.

'You should really buy a chair,' Ai tells him with the pout of a four year old, gazing up as Yusaku stretches and pulls the covers back. 'It's very rude to expect your guests to put up with this sorry excuse of an uncarpeted floor.'

'It's never been an issue before,' Yusaku tells him, finding the swift look of unease that crosses Ai's face interesting, if nothing else. His partner almost looks uncomfortable. Which leaves him wondering...

'You can feel it?' he asks, careful not to inject too much curiosity into his voice; the last thing he needs is Ai going off an enthusiastic tangent this early in the morning. 'Actually experience discomfort against a hard surface?'

Ai gives him an offended look. 'This body is covered with the finest of sensors! They can register the difference between the same things your body tells you are hard or soft as easily as yours can!'

Yusaku doubts it's really the same. Still. If Ai was incapable of registering sensation, he probably wouldn't have made that apologetic effort of a hug yesterday. With a sigh, he starts to get dressed; but as soon as the hem of his pyjama top starts to so much as lift and expose a mere slither of skin, Ai lets out a wail and practically topples over onto the floor like a bowling pin.

'GAH! How can you do that so shamelessly?!'

Yusaku gives him a nonplussed stare. 'What?' he asks, confused.

Ai shoots him a glimmering glare from beneath sulky lashes. 'STRIP!' he shouts heatedly, waving a hand at Yusaku with a look of disgust on his face. 'Isn't that embarrassing to do in front of someone you have feelings for?'

Yusaku blinks. Recalls the many, many times he's changed in front of Ai when he was merely an eye on his disc, or later a small black Ignis. The most Ai would ever do back then would call him a pervert or give him advice on what sort of food he should eat so that his ribs wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. All of which he had ignored. 'It's never been an issue with you before,' he remarks.

Ai flushes hard. Yusaku stares at him. This...this is new. Is Ai even capable of...well. He supposes Ai understands the idea of human attraction and sensuality given the design of his avatar. But he doesn't have hormones and while yes, Yusaku knows he does, he also doesn't feel the need to change his habits around Ai.

'So bold,' Ai mutters, quickly scrabbling to his feet. 'If I'm not careful, I'll be in DANGER!'

He declares this far too dramatically, before rushing off to lock himself in the bathroom. Which, wow. How thoughtful of him, considering the fact, that unlike Yusaku, he doesn't require the use of one in the near future.

Still. Yusaku feels something like a smile cross his face after he finally pulls his head free of his pyjamas. Because that sort of impulsive, nonsensical behaviour? That is more like the Ai he knows.

After some wailing, teasing, and the oh-so-persuasive argument of 'but you love me and when you love someone, you're supposed to do things that makes them happy!' Yusaku gives up.

'We cannot go anywhere too expensive,' he warns Ai, eyeing the glowing green diamond on his neck. 'And you're going to have to be careful; you don't look like your average SOLtiS. You've managed to override the programming that paints those orange streaks against their faces for one thing.'

He does briefly consider asking Ai to cover up the diamond, but thinks better of it when as a test he holds his hand up to the light and sees the green light easily spill out through the tiny dark creases between his fingers. It's not overwhelmingly bright, but the light's obviously clear enough to show up underneath a layer of cloth. It's probably been designed that way so that it's hard for a SOLtiS to pass as a human anywhere.

Ai gives him a snide look. 'You thinking of feeling me up?' he asks, with an amused twitch of his lips.

Now who's the pervert, Yusaku wants to ask. Instead he lowers his hand and unlocks the door. 'I thought your big plan was to observe me continuously duelling.'

Ai wrinkles his nose.

'I like watching you duel,' he says, a near whine in his voice as they step out under the sun – or what's left of it as grey clouds trail ominously overhead. Yusaku takes one suspicious look at them and then decides to chance it. 'But you don't seem to enjoy it,' Ai continues, gazing off into the distance thoughtfully. 'You're good at it, but there's no real spirit behind your movements, not like there was in those recordings I saw. You're all stiff when you play the cards.'

Of course I am, Yusaku thinks. I murdered you with them. Instead he raises an eyebrow slightly. 'Oh? So this is you acting concerned for me?'

Ai frowns. Glances at him out of the corner of his eye. 'You're not cute at all,' he mutters. Which isn't really an answer. It's an outright dodge of one. But Yusaku doesn't pursue it.

The silence between then is stiff and uncomfortable. Though to be honest there is something satisfying in the way Ai's eyes start to travel over the payment and the buildings as they walk, hesitating over the spare scraps of trees that poke out of the odd park.

'I thought they would be different,' he mentions. 'But a tree out here, just looks the same as a tree on the net.' Then he pauses, his eyes glancing over the bark once more. 'Then again,' he mutters, running one hand over the trunk and letting his fingers gingerly trace along the groves and darkened veins within the bark. 'Whether a tree in the virtual world can even attempt to match the layers of individual colour and patterns out here depends on the programmer. And I haven't come across one that's quite as detailed. These patterns... they're as unique as fingerprints. Huh. I could probably make one though.'

Yusaku wonders for a moment what the trees in the Cyberse World had looked like, under the guidance of the Ignis.

'Would you want to create a world just for yourself in the net?' he decides to ask. 'You could make as many trees as you wanted there.'

Ai gives him a quick grin. 'Naaaah,' he says. 'That's sounds like way too much work.'

Yusaku just looks at him. And Ai pouts for all of three seconds, before something gold and completely motorised flickers within his irises. 'Alright,' he says, grumpily, tugging on Yusaku's arm like a child. 'I've found something cool.'

Yusaku allows himself to be towed round a corner, past a collection of banks and convenience stores into a wilder, untamed area, where grass spills through cracks in unrepaired pavements and a few flowers straggle the line between cement and a drain pipe. Ai frowns slightly at he stares at them, as though it offends him to see them suddenly spill out of nowhere, breaking the pattern of all the streets they've passed through before.

Yusaku's lips quirk. 'Nothing out here is pre-programmed,' he says, enjoying the startled blink Ai gives him. 'Nothing's as easily controlled out here, not by any creature. Nature tends to be a bit tidier in the Vrains network, doesn't it?'

'Yes,' says Ai slowly. 'I should find it lame or messy. But I...but I don't...' He stares at the flowers some more and then shakes himself, casting a quick glance at Yusaku as though he's embarrassed.

Yusaku feels a twinge of compassion. Ai is having to re-learn everything, grow re-accustomed to all the unique human intricacies and 'instinct' Yusaku gifted him with over a decade ago, things that no program has any natural coping mechanisms for. And Yusaku is so bad at this, at offering comfort when it's needed and where there's no real enemy before him to fight instead.

He opens his mouth to try – because Ai deserves that, for him to try – but then Ai perks up, an expectant smile rapidly taking over his face.

'Ah! We're here, we're here!' Ai shakes off Yusaku's arm as though he's nothing more than a toy that can be tossed aside, and Yusaku feels oddly hurt by the gesture. But Ai is already spinning on his toes, grandly pointing up to a flight of stone steps that cut between a wide green space of trees, all of which spill out beyond the grey rise of a few apartment buildings. 'There's a cute little shrine up here, I saw it on the tourist maps they have online.' He tilts his head. 'Come on, let's go pray and make a wish!'

Yusaku hesitates. He hasn't been to a shrine in a long time. And he knows quite a few people frown on bringing a SOLtiS along, unless they're to aid a disabled person.

Still. The worse they can do is get kicked out.

Picture this: a keyboard clacking. Fingers playing out a melody. The tired eyes of human woman battling against her screen.

And then, into this monotony, a message is inserted, squeezed out the net and into her PC and Hayami blinks at the email notification that pops up. She should be cautious, should be wary, but still, she would rather fall victim to a prank than let someone else, like Zaizen, pay the price. And so she opens it.

She watches it play, watches the familar swirl of a dark cape, of laughing gold eyes, feeling her fingers tighten over her desk in response. And then the video moves on, films the stuttering gray shapes of...

Hayami is out of her seat a second before it ends. She does not know there are other eyes watching her, from out of the spyhole of her laptop computer. And that if she could see them, the emotion that would be filling them, would be very dark indeed.

Inhuman, in fact, you might say.