Notes: There is a sex scene later on in this chapter, a warning for those who aren't into that kind of thing.

Yusaku awakens to the sound of crumpling bed-covers, to the pressure of a hand at his side, and a long shadow over his head. He blinks and the shadow moves, the colours it gives way to instantly resolving with a jagged blur into Ai's grinning face.

'Roooom-service!' his partner declares, the chopsticks he holds hovering a scant few inches from Yusaku's lips. Stabbed onto the ends of them is a thick, juicy wedge of hamburger, a garish plume of red sauce decorating its sides. 'Say aaaaaahhh!'

The chopsticks descend and Yusaku promptly rolls over so that the only thing Ai can press against them is the pillow instead of his mouth.

'Hey!'

Blearily, Yusaku pulls himself up to inspect the plate Ai balances across his lap, taking a moment to register the heat of it as the steam rises up to bat against his face. It is this, more than anything else, that helps to fully wake him up. Blinking, he glances down at the large, gourmet-looking hamburger steak, ketchup drizzled like jam over both it and the rice paired up against its side. There's even a sunny egg cradled along its grilled top and the welcoming gleam of its yellow yolk swims into his vision like a gem.

With a smug smile, Ai dips the piece of hamburger his chopsticks still clutch hold of into the egg yolk, giving it a firm stir with a little too much relish.

'Eat up!' he declares, thrusting it at Yusaku once again. 'I went to all this effort to get it after all!'

Yusaku shouldn't. He really shouldn't. Ai will be insufferable when he does. But still, he finds himself opening his mouth to obediently let Ai shove the piece of meat inside. Mostly to see Ai's face explode into a blinding grin when he does so.

'Good boy!'

Yusaku's teeth close over the chopsticks a little too hard at that line. And now he very deliberately reaches out and seizes them from Ai's hand so he can continue to feed himself, despite the small pout he wins from his partner when he does so. He does however, allow the plate to remain on Ai's lap though; if his partner is content to let himself play the part of Yusaku's table, well then, he's not going to argue.

Yusaku takes another bite and runs an eye over Ai's chest. A chest currently covered by his black t-shirt.

'What happened to your clothes?' he asks.

Ai scowls. 'Nothing!' he protests. He waves his hand at the back of a nearby chair where Yusaku can see the usual lavender and black frills and lines decorating its back. And since they don't look as though Ai's managed to spill anything on them…

'It's a boyfriend shirt!' Ai announces proudly, his fingers deftly plucking at the baggier parts of the shirt as though to show it off. And then his hand smoothes out over his chest, the palm running over the line of it in a way that is far from innocent. 'Why Yusaku…' his voice turns low and mocking, his eyes half-lidded as he sends Yusaku a taunting gaze. 'Don't tell me you've never heard of such a thing?'

Oh. Oh no.

'Allow me to educate you…' Ai purrs, shifting the plate from his lap to the bedside table. Yusaku has to fight not to let his gaze follow it; that hamburger is rather good. Juicy and thick. And he wants it decidedly more than whatever Ai has currently planned.

Ai grins as though reading his mind, crawling up on his hands and knees over the bedcovers, the t-shirt stretching across his body as he does so. Ai's a little too big to wear it comfortably and it shows in the way his movements seem a little more controlled than usual, smaller, not taking up as much space as he usually favours. Almost as though he's been hobbled.

It's a little funny to watch, and Yusaku's lips curl at the sight, even as Ai's face ends up hovering before him in its usual leer.

'I don't need the lesson,' Yusaku tells him, arm stretching to snag another piece of the hamburger. 'Especially from someone who's missing the point of it.'

Ai frowns. 'No, I'm not!' he protests, watching Yusaku chew. 'I'm your boyfriend and this is your shirt I'm wearing, so I'm doing it right!'

Well. What Ai's saying isn't exactly wrong, but…

'Just because I'm not some cute girl who can wear it like a dress, doesn't mean it's not a boyfriend shirt!' Ai continues in a huff, crossing his arms. Which makes the shirt stretch out even more. Great.

'You're going to ruin it,' Yusaku warns.

Ai gives him an unimpressed look. 'Are you saying I'm fat?' he asks flatly.

'No,' says Yusaku. 'Just that I don't feel like shopping for new clothes.'

Ai narrows his eyes. 'So…you don't think I look good in it?' he asks ponderously, a finger reaching up to twirl a long, twisted castle turret out of his hair.

'You'd look better in something your own size,' Yusaku informs him half-heartedly, far more interested in snagging a mouthful of rice.

'Hmm,' says Ai, as though the thought has only just occurred to him. 'Does this mean I could do with getting something like this in my own size, then?'

Yusaku stiffens a little.

And Ai grins, trap firmly sprung shut. 'I think this calls for a shopping date!'

Luckily Ai is generous enough to let him finish his hamburger first. And shower. And also give him back his shirt.

'Though I still might borrow it in the future,' he informs him with a leer. Like Yusaku is somehow magically, going to try and stop him.

And then he drags Yusaku into shop after shop after shop, eyes gleaming every time they land on a rack that holds something either black, purple, or gold. Or else cradles far too many tassels or frills or buttons. One shirt he even starts to agonise over is filled to the brim with glitter, a million silver twinkles sunk into the black lining of filmsy, damn-near see-through material, as though in imitation of the night sky and the stars sprinkled across it. Or well, one free of light pollution that is.

Yusaku can't help but let out an irritated little huff of breath, before Ai can do much more than run an adoring finger over the sleeve.

'But Yusaku!' Ai immediately starts whining, looking at him with bright, wounded eyes, as though Yusaku has violently slapped his hand away from the hanger and told him 'no' like he would a dog. 'It'll be like I'm wearing a galaxy!'

He even accompanies this description with a pair of jazz hands. '...Or maybe the innermost parts of the network?' he then ponders with a finger resting on his chin, this new metaphor managing to win him a rather strange look from the guy a few shirts down from them.

Yusaku stares at the outline of the hanger that seems to taunt him through the shirt.

'I won't stop you,' he says evenly. 'But if you go out wearing it in public you may find yourself facing some unpleasant attitudes.'

Ai nods, a look of fake understanding on his face. 'I get it. It would make me far too tempting.' He says this a little too seriously, and then immediately follows it up with a more jovial: 'And it would make you want to rip the entire thing off me, wouldn't it?' And being Ai, he actually has the nerve to follow this up with a wink.

The guy a few shirts down from them promptly bumps into the rack, almost sending it to the floor. And Ai immediately preens in response, a malicious smile on his face. So Yusaku does the only thing he can. He immediately turns and walks out of the aisle entirely.

'I was joking!' Ai exclaims, rushing to keep up. 'Joking!'

'I know,' Yusaku states stoutly. 'Just like I know you like to be the centre of attention everywhere you go.' He shoots Ai a heavy glare. 'That doesn't mean you should actively try to make a spectacle of yourself though.'

Ai glares back. 'I'm not!' he protests. 'I just…I like showing off that we're a couple.' He winds his arm around Yusaku's stiff one in a makeshift hug. 'Even if society is a bit unnerved by it. And not just because I'm a machine.' He immediately unwinds his arm and bounces back a few steps. 'I'm not an idiot, Yusaku. I'm not going to drape myself all over you every time we step outside.'

The green diamond on his throat bobs along the line of his neck as he speaks, automatically drawing eyes to it. Not all the time, no, mostly because there are other SOLtiS out here, out running household chores. But it could still attract enough attention, perhaps, for someone to get suspicious at how lively Ai is compared to the calmer machines that walk around with welcoming smiles on their face, smiles that still provide much colder comparisons to the one the cuts across his partner's face in a slice of feeling that only a human should be able to evoke.

And yet, out of all the humans here, many of them could still never imagine a sentient being stuck inside the limbs of a SOLtiS, one that can do more than obey. While they may be surprised, unless they're well versed in the programming of a SOLtiS, they have no reason to suspect Ai of being anything other than what he appears to be.

And Yusaku doesn't want Ai to stay locked away from the world.

'How about I pick the next store?' he adds.

Ai gives him a suspicious look, one eye comically larger than the other and then lets out a mocking titter. 'Have you ever been in a clothing store?' he asks pointedly. 'A nice one?'

Yusaku doesn't answer. Insteadly he purposefully walks into one that Ai groans at, mostly because of the lack of complex ribbons and belts and shirts on display in the windows.

'Urgh,' Ai says. 'I don't want to end up looking boring like you, Yusaku.'

Though he does seem slightly mollified when Yusaku hands him a short sleeved shirt, one that can flutter down over his stomach in a light, airy fashion, all in a delicate shade of pale lavender. Yusaku also ends up throwing a pair of black jeans and two black sports wrist bands at him – as much as he doesn't mind kissing those orange halos of lights looped round Ai's wrists in the cover of night, within the safe darkness of a bed, he suspects Ai could do without the additional attention outside. And then he wanders over to the jackets, picturing Ai within his mind's eye, tucked inside his waist-coat and cape, things that fly out behind him to create the impression of size and majesty.

...On the other hand, maybe Ai just likes things he can swing round in to produce a flair of material. So after a moment, his hands sieve through the rack to find a loose, black, sleeveless jacket. It's not impressive, it's not glittery and it doesn't stand out at all. But the length does allow it to drop beneath Ai's hips in a breezy sort of fashion and it is light enough to fly out behind him if he chooses to spin on his heel. More importantly, it's not something that Yusaku will ever be comfortable wearing.

That sort of makes it perfect, doesn't it?

Ai stares at it for a moment when Yusaku pushes it into his hands. 'Huh,' he says. 'Maybe your taste doesn't quite suck. Though these are all a little plain…' He shifts the clothes between his hands for a moment and then brightens. 'Come on! You have to critique me!'

Yusuku prepares himself. And he's right to. It takes minutes instead of seconds, for Ai to laboriously shrug off the grand apparel of his top half and dance around in the get up Yusaku shoves at him. And yes, indeed, if Yusaku had any doubts that Ai likes spinning round, all such doubts are put firmly to bed by the end of the miniature fashion show Ai seems intent on performing.

But before he's done, he tugs Yusaku behind the curtain with him, the light of the stall pooling round his features to paint his skin a wan gold as he presses in close. Yusaku blinks up at him owlishly as Ai smiles and cups his face with fingers that tenderly smooth over his cheekbones.

'Are you going to pay for them?' Ai asks warmly. 'Or shall I siphon the money from a rich tycoon?' The tips of his fingers brush into Yusaku's hair, tracing the delicate rim of his ears. 'And will you let me pick something out for you in return, hmm?'

Yusaku's eyes may widen at this offer. Slightly.

'I'll pay,' he says hurriedly. 'And you really…don't need to choose anything for me.'

Ai laughs a little, under his non-existent breath, eyes flying to the mirror nearby. He stares at their reflection for a good while in admiration and Yusaku lets him, enjoying the feather-soft strokes of warmth playing over his face.

'We should really go to a purikura booth,' Ai decides, and Yusaku's heart promptly dives down into his shoes.

They go to a purikura photo booth, Ai's usual cape and shirt weighting down the plastic shopping bag that swings between them. Thankfully, Ai seems content to carry it, now donning what he seems to have nicknamed 'casual dating gear.'

Yusaku exits the booth with a little less change than he would like and an AI in danger of cracking up his side over how many love-hearts he can fit inside the frame of the photo they were in after pulling Yusaku back against his lap.

Yusaku supposes he could have said no. But it's not as though he's opposed to the practise of purikura in general and it makes Ai happy. He even, after they pass by a small market stall, buys the darkest indigo hair tie he finds Ai cooing over, rigid sakura petals of pink and gold stamped out over the surface. Ai seems to think he's brought it because he battered his eyelashes at him a few too many times. It's not.

But the swell of pride, and that faint curl of possessiveness he feels spreading through his stomach as Ai immediately loops his hair through it may have something to do with it.

'You're being really nice to me today,' Ai declares, giving Yusaku a sharp look. He stops to run an eager eye over a bunch of lacquered fans, the coloured patterns of birds and irises trailing off to meet a silver border. 'It's not because you're frightened I'm going to run off and hatch a wicked plan, is it?'

Yusaku shrugs. 'Not wicked,' he says quietly. 'Just suicidal.'

Ai stiffens immediately, but Yusaku doesn't care; it's not like he wants this conversation out here, in public. But if Ai is going to bring up the subject…

'I never wanted to die.' Ai's eyes are hard, but his tone is whimsical and light. 'I just needed to. You know that.' His expression is shuttered as he gazes at Yusaku. 'Just like I need to stay alive now, to make sure Roboppi and the SOLtiS don't cause you any trouble.'

Yusaku gazes at him. 'You're allowed to keep on living, just because you want to,' he says firmly, crossing his arms.

Ai frowns. 'It's not that simple. Even when I deleted myself, I started to reform. And so did Roboppi. Probably because it was my program that first infected them.' Ai waves a hand dismissively. 'Maybe we can't die. Not unless we create another Bohman to gobble up our data, or else volunteer to have Sol Technologies convert our data into a format they can actually use, like they did with Earth.' He grins, but there's nothing warm about it. 'What's there to say? I failed again!'

That's a slight manic energy to the way he says that, a frenzied trill to his voice that has Yusaku's hand reaching out to grip his elbow.

'Ai,' he says, voice rough as his fingers attempt to stroke, to soothe. 'Don't.'

Ai tilts his head to the side, giving him a rather sad smile. 'I could say the same to you, Yusaku. Don't.' He motions to his hair tie, to the clothes now settled over his form. 'Where's this money coming from, Yusaku? You ran away from Kusanagi, so you don't have a steady job anymore.' He narrows his eyes. 'At least not a legal one. And you haven't been to school for months.' He glares. 'Have you even thought about what sort of future you should be reaching for? Have you considered anything other than dragging me with you into it?'

Yusaku looks at him steadily, grip tightening on that taunt elbow caged beneath his fingers. 'No,' he says firmly.

Ai's eyes widen at that and his mouth parts involuntarily, the tiniest choke of a gasp fluttering out. His head instantly whips to the side as he tears his gaze free from Yusaku's to stare moodily at the ground, and Yusaku feels exasperation touch him at the action. Because honestly, what was Ai expecting him to say? Yes?

'You're a bad actor,' he says. 'Don't pretend to be surprised by an answer you already know.'

Ai's head immediately twists round again, an angry glare now blazing across it.

'I can't help it!' he spits. 'You used to be all kuudere and not at all honest about your feelings for me! So when you're all truthful about it now, I have no defence against it!'

Yusaku sighs. 'Come on,' he says, irritation biting into his tone as he drags Ai past the stalls, past all the pretty colours and items that would usually prompt a flurry of giddy comments and admiring glances from his partner. Instead Ai stays quiet, his arm wooden in Yusaku's grip.

Yusaku gives no other visible sign of his annoyance. Instead he tugs Ai past people, past shops, and into a subway station. Ai's glare bores into the side of his face for the entire three minute train journey, but it breaks open, softens into something approaching wonder as Yusaku pulls him out into the sun again and through a gap in an iron fence, to reveal a long stretch of green and neat paths biting out into the grass with curves of grey gravel. They link round to lake bridges and small pavilions that serve green tea and ice cream and Yusaku pauses to take in for a moment. He used to come here a lot, when he was younger. Much younger. It seems fitting to drag Ai here, someone he knows will appreciate it.

'Ah! It's so pretty and cute!' Ai exclaims right on cue, clapping his hands together. His gaze instantly zones in on a young couple pointing at a bunch of yellow ducklings, trying their best to cut through the smooth lake water with anxious chirps. And then he gives Yusaku a sly look. 'A perfect date spot!'

Yusaku stares back at him levelly, his gaze refusing to move an inch. 'Yes,' he says simply.

That answer is enough so for Ai's look to waver, for doubt to creep in and make him look uncertain. 'Eh? You're supposed to brush that off and ignore it like you usually do...'

'You were the one who kept on getting excited about a date,' Yusaku points out. 'You find an excuse to keep slipping that word into the conversation.'

Ai pouts. 'Only eleven times within the past three hours...' he whines. Then he shakes himself. 'You can't trick me, Yusaku! This-'

'Don't go giving up on something that makes you happy,' Yusaku says quietly. 'You want a date? Let's go on one. School will still exist when we go back.'

Ai stares at him. Yusaku stares back. This isn't a magic cure; it won't suddenly make Ai excited for life, or ease his anxiety over those wretched simulations that Yusaku doesn't know how to talk him out of fearing. But Yusaku also knows, better than anyone that trauma is not something you can rip yourself free from, that it takes many, many, many little steps to bring you out of the dark; and that the darkness is always waiting, lapping at your heels to drag you back if you don't keep trying to press forward.

You keep going. You carry out small tasks, do little things to keep yourself busy, to try and earn a little peace. It's something he has done over and over again, throughout his life, learning to hack, to code, to muster up the strength to hold a Duel Monsters card once again.

He can't force Ai to do the same. But if he can do little things to make Ai happy, to show him the world won't end every time he enjoys himself...

And honestly, Yusaku can't come up with anything better.

He takes Ai's hand. Come on, he thinks, watching the way Ai's expression twists, the smile his partner fights as he stares down at their joined fingers. Be brave for me.

After a moment Ai's fingers curl. They tighten. And Yusaku breathes out a little more heavily than he intends.

Ai smiles at him. It's not as warm as it could be. But it's there. It's present.

'Aren't I a lucky AI?' Ai says softly. And then it's his turn to pull Yusaku softly through the park.

He points out flowers. Admires them. Teases Yusaku with the prospect of tangling them through his hair. Eventually, he proclaims he's tired and flops down on the grass.

'You told me this morning that you didn't get tired, remember?' Yusaku points out with a small smile of his own as he kneels down, watching the flecks of light catch on the glint of Ai's hair, on the pale curves of his face, as they escape the through the shadowed fall of the tree branches overhead.

Ai doesn't answer. Instead he rolls, head pressing against Yusaku's knee. His shoulders shift. And then his spine lifts and he wiggles his way into Yusaku's lap, his eyes remaining closed the whole time. He turns to the side, hands coming up to find Yusaku's own, to drag it down against this face to wedge it there, between his skin and the press of Yusaku's thigh as a makeshift pillow.

Yusaku softens immediately, just at the implicit trust of the gesture. And he finds his spare hand diving into Ai's hair, stroking out all the waves of it, the curls, with a firm, unyielding stroke.

'No protests?' Ai asks sleepily – despite the fact that he can't actually fall asleep. 'Ah, Yusaku. You really are spoiling me today.'

'No, I think I always have,' Yusaku says thoughtfully. 'At least, once I understood that you were truly alive.' And to a certain extent that's true. Once he realised Ai was a living being, he was content to let him search the net, when he wasn't with him at school or at his job, to coast through hours of dumb TV shows and argue with people on forums over things that really didn't matter.

Ai however, merely snorts, as though he doesn't agree. At all.

'No. You can definitely be mean to me, when you feel like it.'

Well. That's not exactly a lie either.

'I love you,' Ai says softly. 'You're okay, if I say it, right? In the present tense, this time?'

Yusaku's heart wells up. 'I don't mind,' he says, forcing his voice to stay steady. 'Say it as many times as you like.'

Ai snorts again, risking a quick peek, as one gold eye slides open in a thin crescent slice to glare up at him.

'Liar!' he declares harshly. 'You do mind.' Then he closes his eye again, snuggling deeper into Yusaku's lap. 'But I generously forgive you. Because I know you love me back.'

There's a pause then, Yusaku's hand continuing to fall over Ai's inky strands, to press them away from his ear, his face, back across his thigh. Then:

'No one's ever loved me as much as you do, I think.' Ai's voice breaks in softly again, but this time it sounds tentative, unsure. Weak. As though he's about to die, to fade away from Yusaku's hold once again. 'Not even the other Ignis,' he continues. 'And they knew me far longer than you did.'

Yusaku's heart cracks open at that. At the sadness, the faint pull of longing he can feel, no, sense, threading its way through Ai's tone. 'That's wrong, Ai,' he says carefully. 'They loved you in a different way than I do. Not any less.'

'Maybe,' Ai replies, something dark sliding into his voice. 'Or maybe that's what humans need to believe. But for a program like me, love, or any emotion is quantifiable. We can measure it, devote our time to calculate the lengths it will take us to, or how it can shape us when we put various other factors into consideration. It's what makes simulations so hard to ignore for us.'

Yusaku freezes. He doesn't know how to argue against that. How can he? It would be arguing against the fundamental nature of what Ai is, a program who can calculate, run numbers at a speed Yusaku can never match up to.

That doesn't mean he shouldn't try though.

'Are you measuring how happy you are right now?' he asks harshly. 'Or how sad? Does one value cancel out the other?'

Ai stiffens. 'That's dirty, Yusaku.'

'You brought up the subject,' Yusaku answers remorselessly.

Ai trembles against his hand and Yusaku's a little sorry. A little.

'No,' Ai says after a moment. 'That would be lame.'

Yusaku breathes. 'Exactly,' he says firmly.

Ai's whole body tightens up, his legs bending, curling towards his chest as he buries himself in Yusaku's lap, as though imitating a ball.

'Yusaku,' he says throatily. 'I love you, but right now...can you just hold me?'

Yusaku doesn't hesitate. Not for a second. He bends, lets his remaining arm cage Ai in and hugs him tight. Tight, like Ai could fall into shimmering golden pieces again, leaving only an empty space where his body should lie. Then tighter still.

'It's a good job I don't have to breathe,' Ai jokes, though his voice sounds slightly strained.

You deserve it, Yusaku thinks and holds him tighter still.

He makes love to Ai again that night. Or attempts to, wondering at himself as he does so. This, him, performing an act he has never consciously pursued until now, feels alien. It makes him want to laugh.

He doesn't. Instead he presses his face against Ai's, against his mouth, colder and far less wet than the one Ai can create inside the network. He feels both stiff and loose as he does so, nervous and yet determined, the same as he did last night. For it is both easy and hard to hold Ai, to look at him and feel such a wealth of want that it makes Yusaku dizzy with it.

He is sure that he is clumsy when he touches, when he is touched in return. Un-co-ordinated with every pant, or trace of sweat that lines his skin. And oh, so very human. Funny, how it's always Ai, of all people, who draws that out of him.

And yet, as mouths meet and melt, with far less ease than two humans ones would, Yusaku still feels guilt eat away at him. For Ai cannot orgasm, is missing certain parts and body features that make the experience as enjoyable for him as it is for Yusaku.

Still, he comforts himself with the thought that Ai can feel, that he's a shameless hedonist who doesn't hesitate to make full use of the sensors that line his skin, running beneath the holographic projection almost as though in imitation of a human's nervous system. Ai is a liar, yes, but Yusaku is certain, in his bones, that Ai is not lying, whenever he flinches and squeals as Yusaku runs his careful hands over him. He is ticklish everywhere, laughs both too easily and too loudly wherever Yusaku kisses him, or buries his lips into Ai's neck, beneath the crown of his curls.

'Oi, Yusaku,' he manages. 'Slow down. I don't want to be eaten up!'

Still. He gives as good as he gets. He blows fake raspberries into Yusaku's ribcage in return, kisses the delicate flutter of a pulse in both his wrists, and runs all eight of his fingers, two of his thumbs and an evil smile against the lower parts of Yusaku's anatomy, or where, as he puts it, 'the fun really starts!'

He says all this with a leer, with a joke, with a wink, and honestly, at times, it's hard to believe he doesn't have a tongue at all, at least not one that's a rope of flesh. He's warm enough in all the right places, makes Yusaku's dick rise to attention with a well-placed kiss, and enjoys coaxing it to perform the way he expects it to, all with the cunning hollow he forms out of his fist.

'I'm not the kind of robot that requires a paint-job, Yusaku,' he coos, eye half-lidded and gleaming, as a shot of semen splashes him against the chest. It makes Yusaku want to bully him a little, though he isn't surprised that that Ai starts grinning like a madman when Yusaku actually does rise up to do.

It's a little frightening really, how easily Ai can push his buttons, drive him into a frenzy; Yusaku has sometimes thought that the other instincts people have, the ease that lets them draw others into their orbit, into messy, adrenalin-driven games with each other had left him years ago. But there's obviously something sparking to life inside him still, because not a minute later Yusaku is thrusting beneath Ai's thighs and the firm tunnel they form, into the only real opening Ai can make for him. Ai's legs branch against his chest, steady bars to hold him balanced and taunt and luckily, the piston-like slap of Yusaku's flesh against Ai's easily creates friction that Ai can feel, can moan at, can plead for.

'Yusaku, please, please, please!' he trills and okay, yes, this is the kind of chatter Yusaku really doesn't want to shut up.

Ai still doesn't orgasm. He can't. But the pleading sounds authentic, even if he does make a face, when Yusaku abruptly sinks his mouth into Ai's quivering calf upon his own, much needed human release.

'Urgh...Yusaku...it's hot that you want to mark me, but do you really have to do it so hard?'

Yusaku blinks through the post orgasmic haze, Ai's annoyed features swimming up to meet him with a pout.

'Sorry,' he says, because he is, and well, maybe a little embarrassed too, of the instinct that made him clamp down on the nearest part of Ai he could get. So he's a little softer, a little gentler when he next leans in to kiss him.

Stay with me, he thinks as Ai melts in response, gold eyes warm and happy, brightening unnaturally in the gloom of the room, twin lamps that twinkle as Ai's fingers find Yusaku's face, tracing out warm patterns onto his cheeks. Stay with me. I'll make you glad to be alive, I swear.

If he could bring the other Ignis back for Ai, he would in a heartbeat. And if he could go back and save the people Queen ripped away from the world, he would do that as well. But since he can't, he'll have to do things the hard way. The human way. One step, no, one breath, at a time. Into a future that has yet to form.

Picture this: a building. Not quite a temple. But one that perches on a hillside full of graves with a longue, benches, designed for people to rest, to watch over the spread of dead that infests the view below them. During the day, that is.

But here, it is night, There are SOLtiS here, not many, but enough for Kiku to fear for they refuse to leave the lights on for her. And she has to wait for sleep to find her, scared, watching the glow of their green throats and orange wristbands glide through the air as though in imitation of some ghostly lanterns.

'Do they scare you?' the one called Roboppi asks – the different one, who chirps and acts...acts like someone alive, properly alive. 'Do you hate them? Or me?'

Kiku, ever the diplomatic, does not scream out the 'YES' that floods her system, that makes her heart tick and patter like the sped-up second hand of an ancient clock.

'What I hate, is this place,' she answers. She does not know if Roboppi can read her body language, or if they can have a build-in lie detector, so she ventures for a truth.

And it's true. She hates this place for what it did to Takeru, for the way it made him shrivel, stare out at the mass of graves, a garland of flowers still clenched in his fingers.

'It's quite a walk,' his grandmother had said. 'Let's rest here for a bit. Then I'll take you to see them.'

His parents, she had meant. The ones that had already been cremated during the time he went missing as a child. And in an effort to get Takeru to leave the house, his grandmother had pestered him out here, away from the photos and the little shrine and sticks of incense that permeated their house with a constant gloom. She had meant it kindly, perhaps wanting to offer a different sort of closure.

But instead it had made Takeru resemble a robot for days.

Roboppi breaks into her thoughts with a laugh, a spirited one, very much not the sign of your typical robot. 'Oh,' they grin. 'I know. I know allllll about it.' They tilt their head. 'Humans are good at choosing to do things to make themselves even sadder. Although that's sometimes to help them get happier faster afterwards, right? Aniki was never very good at doing that second part.'

Kiku waits, hands clenched in her lap. Roboppi's eyes gleam in front of her like a dragon sizing her up. Then they blink slowly, deliberately. 'It's okay if you hate me,' they say suddenly. 'You have a right to. Just like Zaizen Aoi. I get that now. So I will let you go.'

Kiku stares rigidly out into those twin golden glows, into the black pupils, squares that make her think of goat eyes, lizard ones, the cold predatorily gaze of a snake.

'But not yet,' Roboppi says with a warm and not entirely-meant smile.