Author's Note: Guess what! It hasn't been four months since my last update! It's been a little while, but not four months! The holidays have made writing a little difficult with all the distractions the season provides, but I've been able to scrap another chapter together. These later chapters don't flow as nicely as I'd like, partially because of the gaps between the postings and the writings, and partially because my super-overwhelming obsession with WHR has waned a bit. Don't get me wrong—I still love the series, but I've become super obsessed with a few new things too, and that takes away from it somewhat. But, I did promise I will finish this story, and I keep my promises if I can, so don't worry.

SMALL WARNING (in big letters): Yeah, remember how this story is sort of AU and stuff? Yeah, I hope nobody minds because it may be getting more off track by the end of the chapter. I was starting to run dry with what I had as I get closer to the conclusion, and though this story will have an end, I don't want to stop writing. So, I'm sowing the seeds for a sequel story here before this one's over. You can blame Alias, if you want to. (Despite its more cheesy, overdone scenes, many of the ideas in Alias are very interesting, and the plot twists certainly keep you hooked. I have been inspired.)

Also, I wanted to thank all of those who have expressed support due to an overly negative review I received. I have addressed Unamused in the same way I reply to all of my reviewers (at the bottom of my post); so if you can't wait to see what I had to say about it, skip to the bottom. Otherwise, please enjoy the chapter. I have no intention of making a bigger deal about this review than is necessary. It had nothing to do with my delay in posting, btw, and it did not discourage me from writing. Real life distractions have been fully to blame in that area . . . (speaking of real world stuff, this chapter would have been posted yesterday if a certain little ice storm hadn't knocked out my power)

Chapter 25

Interlude: Triumvirate

"We're here." The words were more sigh than statement, and the melancholy they implied by their tone drew the attention of sleepy grey eyes.

"Why are we here, mommy?" a small voice inquired, and the mother looked down at the girl in the car seat with a forced smile of encouragement.

Ruffling the girl's thick, dark hair tenderly as she liberated her from the safety restraint, the mother replied, "You know why, Simone: because daddy has a new job. That's why we had to move."

Simone's expressive grey eyes dropped their focus to her feet, one of which was kicking lightly against the seat while the other hung limply beneath a plaster cast. "But, I don't want to move," she whispered so softly her words could barely be heard.

"I know, Simone, but sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do." Though she found she really wanted to cry as she looked into her adopted daughter's watery eyes, she painted the cheeriest, most encouraging smile she could on her face, and asked, "Do you want to see your new room?"

"I guess so," the girl replied without enthusiasm.

The mother glanced up at her husband who was watching them both with a vacant look, his arms filled with an overflowing box of kitchen utensils. She smiled at him, raising her eyebrows at his despondent expression, and he quickly forced a smile in response. "It looks like Mr. Nagira found us a nice place this time, Carin," he managed. "It's not quite as big as our place in Tokyo, but it's a little newer."

Carin followed along behind her husband, toting Simone along with her. "Mr. Nagira is a good man. Do you like Mr. Nagira, Simone?" she asked, attempting to distract the dejected girl in her arms.

Simone's face instantly lit up. "Big pimpin'!" she cried in pure joy.

Carin found herself at a momentary loss for words. "What did you just say?" She wasn't sure whether to be angry, outraged or relieved; while she was comforted by Simone's change in mood, she couldn't help but feel shocked by the words that had just come out of the young girl's mouth.

Her husband belatedly provided the explanation she needed. "Mr. Nagira may be a good man, but he's not the best babysitter; she picked up more inappropriate language from those two hours than I would have thought possible."

"Still, it was nice of him to look after her while we packed," Carin reminded, speaking as much to herself as to him. Stepping out of her shoes as she followed her husband into their new home, she crossed the empty living room and turned a slow circle, inspecting the small space. "It isn't as big," she agreed, "but it will do." Her voice echoed in the unfinished room, and for a moment she was struck by the hollow sadness in that sound. "Oh, and look, Simone," she continued as she wandered down an adjacent hallway, "here's your new room!" Simone clung to her mother as she surveyed the small, rose-colored space. "Look! There are teddy bears on the wall." Looking at the teddy bear border her mother had pointed to, Simone allowed a small smile to interrupt her sullen expression.

"Carin, could you give me a hand with this?" her husband called from the other room.

"I'll be right there," Carin replied. Placing her daughter down in a miniature rocking chair sitting next to a large box full of toys, she said, "See, Simone? Daddy already brought in your favorite chair and some of your toys. Can you be a good girl and wait here while mommy and daddy finish bringing in the boxes?"

Simone nodded silently and watched her mother exit the room. Listening to her parents continue moving boxes and furniture, Simone sat quietly in her chair, looking at her feet. She didn't even glance at her toys. Her small face solemn, she simply sat in the foreign space which was to be her new bedroom, and cried. Tears leaked out of glassy grey eyes, slipping down over round cheeks. She scrubbed at them absently with the back of a hand.

Moments later, a breeze stirred in the room, ruffling Simone's hair and fluttering the pages of an upturned book in the box of toys. Simone closed her eyes as the wind caressed her face, squeezing out a few more small tears in the process, but the breeze dried them before they could fall from her cheeks. The breeze had no discernable source, the windows being tightly shut and the vents closed. Several moments later, when Simone's tears were gone, the breeze disappeared as quickly as it had arisen, leaving the room silent and still.

Consoled by her friend, the wind, Simone reached for a toy at the top of the box.

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"Hey, Robin, could you give me a hand here?" Doujima asked when she had the last candle in place.

Dante had stopped counting somewhere around nineteen, but he guessed there were close to thirty candles encircling them. It only took Robin a few seconds to light all of them, each flame precisely summoned to a wick without a spark out of place. He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, impressed by her precision. She smiled at him sweetly when she noticed his expression, and Dante found himself returning the smile for no apparent reason, uncertain why he had been so impressed by such a simple action. Why had he even considered she would be less than adept at her craft?

Amon cleared his throat rather loudly, glancing between the two of them in annoyance before turning his attention to Doujima. "Are we ready to start, then?" He surveyed the ring of light around them with an expression of wariness, as if he suspected even the candles of some kind of dark treachery.

"Just about," Doujima replied, situating herself within the circle with her stack of papers and a shopping bag filled with various mysterious objects. "Let's see . . ." She inspected the top sheet in her sheaf of research closely before concluding, "Okay! Now, I need you guys to sit down facing Robin. Robin, you need to be facing me because that would be west—right?" She then turned in a circle pointing in the different directions as she mumbled something that sounded like "Never Eat Shredded Wheat." More loudly, she concluded, "Yeah, west. That's right."

"Are you sure you can handle running this?" Amon inquired pointedly, as if he sincerely doubted her competence—which he probably did.

"Yes, I'm fine now," Doujima retorted, glaring at him over her papers. "I was fine before someone decided to slip me drugs." She spared half a glare for Sakaki who was standing guard at the door to prevent interruptions. Karasuma, the real culprit of the "drug-slipping," was back at the office covering for their absence.

"Then let's get this party started," Dante said dryly, plopping down on the floor near the center of the circle with a wry grin. Why am I so anxious to do this? he wondered silently. I may be connecting myself to Robin with this spell, but I'll be stuck with Rambo too. I wonder if this is reversible?

Robin straightened her skirts as she seated herself next to Dante with more grace than he had bothered to exercise, while Amon crouched down beside her like a deadly animal, merely taking on the appearance a seated position though he was still ready to leap at any moment. The man's constant vigilance irritated Dante; he wasn't sure whether Amon only stayed on perpetual high alert in his company, or if Amon always kept himself on guard no matter whom he was with. Did the man ever relax? Did he sleep? Questions like this annoyed Dante, mostly because they were pointless in the first place, but also because he couldn't figure out why he even cared what their answers were.

When they were all seated, Doujima began situating the objects necessary for the spell in a haphazard pattern around her. "Okay," she said slowly, her nose still buried in her papers, her studious expression at odds with her usual apathetic demeanor. Reaching for a goblet which reminded Dante unpleasantly of his sojourn through that damned castle on Mallet Island several years back, she placed the cup between them and poured a few glugs of blood-red liquid into it. Dante assumed it was wine, though he couldn't be sure, and he certainly didn't care to take a sniff of it in order to find out. As he examined the jewel-studded goblet, he considered what kind of ludicrous name it would have gone by had it actually been from Mallet. The "Goblet of Rapture" perhaps? Or maybe the " Inexplicable Chalice of Doom?"

"Dante, you need to crush these flower petals here and sprinkle them into the liquid," Doujima ordered, interrupting his thoughts. "And Amon, you need to take a pinch of this powder and scatter it in the cup at the same time."

Grumbling under his breath about having to be the one to crush the flowers, Dante complied and watched with a raised eyebrow as a plume of smoke rose from the "chalice of doom." "I hope it's supposed to do that."

"It's fine," Doujima replied quickly, consulting her papers. "Now, I need you to repeat after me." She began reciting what sounded like a bunch of gibberish to Dante, but she at least paused every few syllables so he and Amon could easily repeat them back to her. As they echoed her words, she added a few other substances to the mixture in the goblet, turning the concoction a frothy violet color.

It was at that point Dante noticed the room had become quite a bit darker than it had been at the start of the ritual, and though he knew the candles could not have been more than a foot and a half away, they seemed to be receding, growing dimmer and dimmer as they went. The air felt heavy, charged with some kind of unseen electricity. He took a deep breath before repeating the last few words Doujima had spoken, feeling a faint mist forming around him and colliding with his skin as he turned to look at his companions. Amon and Robin were both glowing ever so faintly, the moisture particles in the air around them forming distinct halos of light which now seemed far brighter than the candles' faint illumination.

Doujima paused, cursing under her breath and shuffling her papers. "I can barely read in this fog." She seemed unperturbed by their unusual surroundings on the surface, though the slight shake in her voice betrayed her fear. "I guess it's working so far, huh?"

"Keep going," Robin murmured encouragingly.

Dante glanced at Amon, surprised the dark hunter had not interrupted with more words of caution. An unfelt wind stirred Amon's unruly locks of hair, and Dante felt the voltage in the air intensify another notch or two. He had a bad feeling things were about to get even more interesting.

-------

There were times when she felt guilty for lying to them. She wasn't sure why the indiscretions bothered her—it wasn't as if the cause her falsehoods served was an unworthy one. And it certainly wasn't as if she was the only liar at the STN-J. Yet, it was not in her nature to lie. She did it only because she had to . . . because they were not ready to know the truth yet.

It still amazed her that Amon had not yet seen through her dishonesty—he certainly seemed to believe her, at least. She had worked with him several years now, and he still did not suspect her true loyalties, not even after what had happened with Kate. She was fairly certain Zaizen bought her stories as well—he was too wrapped up with all of his other suspicions to look twice at her. And the rest were too trusting of her in general to even consider she could have secrets. It didn't hurt that she only had to lie rarely in order to keep her cover, though; most of the time she just did her job like she was expected to do. She was just good old reliable Karasuma. She came to work on time, made small talk with her coworkers and fulfilled her duties with an over-achieving attitude. Most of the time she was the epitome of a model employee.

Today was not one of those times.

At the moment, she was supposed to be back at the office covering for everyone else. She was supposed to be following Amon's orders and playing the role of just another loyal hunter in Solomon's employ. She was not. She was not even a secret agent operating on a hidden agenda for Solomon or spying on the organization's own subordinates—not like Robin or Doujima. She knew about their missions—in fact, she probably knew more about their missions than they knew. But that was neither here nor there. She had no intention of interfering. They would learn the truth when they were ready.

Sitting in the quiet of her car beneath the shade of a tree budding with leaves, she pressed her phone against her ear and listened closely to the ring at the other end of the line. When she had heard the ninth ring, she pulled the phone away enough to punch in a five-digit code followed by the pound sign. Immediately, the phone began to ring again, but this time with a different tone.

"This is Zealot," a deep voice answered.

"Freelancer reporting in," Karasuma said clearly. "This is a secure line, so we can talk. How are you, Theo?"

"Miho," he said in a businesslike tone, the hint of warmth in the way he said her name the only indication he was, in fact, an affable man. "It's good to hear from you. Do you have news on the Devil's servant?"

"That's actually why I'm calling . . ." Karasuma paused, plucking at a piece of lint clinging to her sling. "I have a bad feeling about this situation. I'm not sure the STN-J can handle things on their own."

"Even with the demon hunters they have acquired?"

"Yes."

"You want backup," he concluded impassively.

"I don't like to risk exposing our operation unnecessarily, but no one will profit from the failure of this hunt—not Solomon, and not us."

"I'll have to clear this with the Revenant. Things have been tense around here after what happened in Kenya."

"I understand." She had heard about Kenya. They had lost several of their best operatives in an ambush planned by Solomon, which meant they could not continue going unnoticed by the organization.

"The Hermit might be available," Theo added quietly, and she realized he was offering her an alternative.

"I see. Do you think it so likely the Revenant will refuse my request that I should take such a risk? I've heard the Hermit's methods are rather unorthodox."

"We're all unorthodox, though, aren't we, Miho? At least we are according to the church . . ."

"Solomon, you mean."

"They're much the same thing anymore, aren't they?" She could hear his ironic smile through his voice. "Regardless, you should be receiving the Revenant's answer within the hour. The Hermit is in Kyoto, I believe, if you decide to contact him. Good luck, Miho."

The phone disconnected abruptly, and Karasuma listened to the grating sound of the dial tone for several long moments, waiting for her heart to stop pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe they would simply refuse her request for aid, but Theo's suggestion to seek out the Hermit made it quite clear how desperate the situation was in his eyes. Had they forgotten how important the Eve was? She had to be protected above all else.

Her lips pressed in a thin line, Karasuma started her car and peeled out onto the road. It wasn't in her nature to speed any more than it was her nature to lie, but she wasn't feeling particularly like herself at the moment. She did not want to have to call in a favor from the Hermit.

-------

"You want us to what?!" Amon demanded darkly at the same time as Dante cried, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Robin, still seated between the two remained deathly silent, her face ghost pale and her green eyes wide as saucers.

Doujima, glaring at both of them in turn, replied curtly, "Listen, it says right here that you both have to take drinks out of the cup and give them directly to Robin, mouth to mouth. You think I'd just make that up?"

"I think you might," Amon snapped back. "And didn't you just say you could barely read those papers a minute ago?"

"This is ridiculous!" Doujima pulled the papers out of Amon's reach before he could even grab for them. The sparkle in her eyes gave her away as far as Amon was concerned. "Why would I make something like that up?"

Dante cleared his throat, hiding a smile behind his hand. "I can think of a couple reasons."

"Either give me the papers, or admit the truth, Doujima," Amon snapped, glaring at Dante out of the corner of his eye. The half-demon seemed to be enjoying Doujima's immature attempt at a joke; this was not the time for play, and Amon had thought Dante adult enough to realize that fact. Clearly, he had been wrong. "We're running out of time."

"Doujima . . ." Robin said quietly, the gravity in her voice causing Doujima to sigh and drop her gaze slowly.

"Fine. You guys are no fun at all. You need to lighten up a bit."

"Lighten up?" Amon echoed in disgust.

"What's the real next step, Doujima?" Robin asked calmly, soothing Amon's ire with the tranquility in her voice. How does she do that? He couldn't even summon enough irritation to feel anger at her power over him because she continued to work her simple spell with her quiet presence alone.

Sighing again, Doujima answered, "All of you do have to take drinks out of the cup, and you two do have to feed Robin her portion, but I guess you can just use the goblet—though the other variation is recommended." Squinting down at the ritual, she continued, "You both have to support the cup as she drinks, and when its empty, the final binding will begin."

"The final binding," Dante repeated. "Sounds dramatic."

"That's what it says," Doujima shrugged.
"Right. Well, I'll go first," Dante offered before Amon could say a word, reaching for the goblet but pausing for a moment with the golden rim resting against his lips. "Do I even want to know exactly what you mixed in here?"

Smiling coyly, Doujima answered, "Probably not."

With a shake of his head and a smirk, the demon hunter took a quick swig before handing the cup off to Amon, wiping the remains of the liquid from his lips with the back of his hand. "Tasty."

Not allowing himself to hesitate at the objectionable odor wafting up from the cup, Amon poured a gulp into his mouth as quickly as Dante had, ignoring the uneven texture and bitter flavor as he forced himself to swallow. Feeling Robin's eyes watching him closely, he didn't pause before placing the cup against her pale pink lips. The roughness of Dante's hand brushed against Amon's as he supported the goblet from the bottom. Eyes wide, Robin glanced between the two of them before opening her mouth enough to allow the liquid access to her mouth; Amon struggled not to think about other things as he watched her lips embrace the cold metal, her pale throat working to swallow the unpleasant concoction.

Before the last drop had fled the cup into Robin's mouth, Amon found those "other things" to be the last thoughts on his mind. The storm he had felt rising within him since the beginning of the ritual broke loose with a suddenness he had not been expecting. The metal gripped in his hand sparked with electricity, and it seared his fingers with a scalding heat. Robin cried out in response, pulling away from the goblet spasmodically, and Amon heard rather than saw the cup clang to the floor. The torrent was whipping around him with too much fervor by then for him to make out more than the faint glow of Robin at his side, but he reached for her, finding a thin arm and pulling it toward him protectively. Her warmth against him comforted him, but soon after it began to warm his frigid skin, he felt the blinding heat of a second presence--one he recognized belatedly as Dante. The half-demon also had a firm hold on Robin, and he came along with her when Amon drew her closer.

The gale around them increased its speed, Amon's power escaping at a rate which threatened to overwhelm them all. Soon he felt Robin gripping his arm instead of the other way around. "Amon." He heard her voice faintly through the roar of air rushing by his ears. "Amon, you have to get control of it!"

Dante's presence was suddenly beside them both, strong arms pulling them closer. Amon cried out in pain as Dante's current of energy fed the storm roiling within him, tearing loose another shred of his control. "Stop fighting it," Dante growled in his ear. "The more you fight it, the harder it fights back. Let it free for a second and it will calm enough for to restrain it." Though Amon hated to listen to any advice from the demon hunter, he was not a fool. The part of him which had been mortally terrified by his own power was hiding somewhere inside him, panicking and pounding at the boundaries of his sanity; if he didn't gain control soon, he was going to find madness more quickly than he had expected. Clinging to Dante's arm and clutching Robin's slim body even closer to him, he focused on calming himself slowly, using them as anchors in the storm within his mind.

He was barely conscious when the tempest finally faded away into silence, leaning limply against Dante and hanging onto Robin more than he was holding her. Sweat dripped from his skin and he panted to catch his breath in the stifling air, hating the fact that he needed the people on either side of him merely to keep himself from slumping to the floor completely.

"Amon," Robin whispered, gingerly pushing damp hair away from his face so she could look up at him. "We did it. I can feel you . . . both of you." She looked up at Dante, but Amon kept his focus on the floor, afraid he would pass out if he so much as moved. She was right though. The connection had been created. He could feel the two of them not only tactilely, but also through that vague, shadowy place in his mind where the wind was still settling down into stillness.

"We did it," Dante agreed, his voice a rumble against Amon's ear. "Now the bitch can burn. Let's just hope she didn't notice."

"Hey . . ." a voice asked weakly from across the room. "Are you guys okay?" Amon glanced up without moving his head to see Sakaki tangled up with Doujima near the door, his feathery hair scattered in disarray around his face. "That was one hell of a thundaga spell."

Pushing herself into a sitting position beside him and threading a hand through her tousled hair, Doujima elbowed him harshly. "This is not a video game, Sakaki! Wake up, already. If this were a video game, my hair would still be perfect—not to mention hot pink—and I'd be wearing a skirt smaller than a band-aid. This is reality, Sakaki, not another one of your Primal Fantasies or whatever they're called."

"That's Final Fantasy. And for your information, I think that sounds like an awesome version of reality with the skirt and hair and all. I think it would be a good look for you."

"Not a chance."

Finally regaining his bearings enough to push himself to his feet, Amon managed to find his footing without too much help from his companions. "We need to get going," he managed to say, his mouth parched and his voice hoarse.

"Sure thing," Dante echoed, standing up beside him. "Just take it easy for a second, okay?"

Amon glanced at Dante in surprise when he heard the concern in the half-demon's voice. Dante looked down quickly, clearing his throat and taking a step or two away, obviously embarrassed. "I'd better call Trish and see what kind of trouble she's been getting her credit cards into. I swear, she's murder shopping for weapons—pun intended."

Amon watched Dante in wonderment as he walked away. Then he caught Robin looking at him, the smallest hint of a pleased smile quivering on her lips.

-------

Hugging her arms to herself, Touko looked out through the glass walls of her father's office at the scientists in the room beyond, watching them perform even the simplest of tasks in slow motion, their actions hindered by their bulky plastic suits. She had no idea what they were doing, or what the purpose of this "factory" was, but the fact that her father had allowed her to see as much as she had sent panic through her veins with the very implication; she knew she would have to be very expendable before he would be willing to share so many of his secrets with her.

Calming herself quickly, she told herself to remember he had brought her here to protect her, not to dispose of her; he would certainly have made sure those scientists were not working on anything important before he allowed her to even enter the room. If he had decided she was expendable she would have been gone already. That's simply how her father worked. But no, he maintained he had brought her here because this was the only place he could be sure she would be safe. After the things she had done though, she knew she was not the one in danger--she was the one responsible for causing it. Her father denied such things, of course--as he denied most things in his life--but she knew the truth of what she had done. She had nearly killed her roommate, and she had injured her lover. Despite her father's assertions that Robin was a dangerous creature and Amon was a worthless pawn, she knew they were both guiltless in her actions. She had attacked them because she had been too weak to fight that demon witch's influence, and now she was paying for her crimes with exile in this deliriously boring place.

She didn't like it here. It was perpetually cold, and the acrid smell of chemicals hung in the chilled air. But she wouldn't complain. She had earned this with her own actions. She had been influenced, perhaps, but she had still been the one to make the choices. Even if her judgment had been skewed, she should have been able to control her bitterness better than she had done. Her weakness disgusted her. No wonder Amon's eyes had turned elsewhere.

Her father's voice rose in volume suddenly, drawing her attention to his phone conversation. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she watched him slap one palm against the metallic surface of his desk before snapping, "Unacceptable. It must be ready by tonight. There is no halfway on this. If you think we have problems now with the witches, imagine a world teeming with demons. If we don't finish the new formula now, that is exactly what's going to happen." He paused, scowling as he turned a quarter rotation in his chair. "No. I need a test of the formula immediately."

Touko shivered. Hearing her father's angry voice always reminded her of her childhood. She found herself rubbing a scar below her jaw absently. This place was not the only prison she had lived in, and this wasn't the first time her father had been her warden.

Zaizen nearly crushed the cigar in his hand as he pulled it away from his mouth. "You know damned well where you can find one. I want a dead body on that cold, hard laboratory table of yours within the hour." Touko jumped when he slammed the phone down into its cradle. "I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said shortly, as if she had not both heard and seen worse things from him before. He looked up at her with eyes still darkened by anger. "They're an incompetent bunch of fools at times, but they will get the job done."

Or they'll pay the consequences, Touko added silently, still rubbing at her scar.

"Have you enjoyed getting out of your room for awhile, Touko?" he asked then, forcing a smile. "I know it's terrible being cooped up in there all the time. Soon enough, this will be over and you will be able to go home. I promise."

--------

Trish was just coming out of the local weapon emporium with a couple new toys for the party with Beatrice when she noticed the oversized van at the end of the street. It looked a little high tech to be in this neighborhood, but she quickly dismissed its displacement; she had no interest in bulky, armored vans, no matter how high tech they were. Fast cars and fast bikes were another story entirely. As she was crossing the street to just such a bike--borrowed temporarily from Dante—she saw the van approaching out of the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, her disinterest cost her precious time since she heard the shots heading for her moments too late.

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So there it is. Hope I haven't pushed my AU card too far this time. I guess I just figured I'd tweaked just about everyone else a little bit, why not Karasuma too? I always felt sorry for her, Michael and Sakaki since they were left out of the secret spy loop. I came up with this idea sort of out of nowhere, but I would have liked to add more references earlier on in the story to make it fit better. But, alas, those chapters have already been published and I'd hate to go back and rewrite now.

And Touko's back . . . I didn't want her to just disappear completely. I also apologize for new characters, and Simone being more important than I had originally said. You just have to trust me on that one. They will have far more to do with the other story I spoke of in the beginning than this one.

Anyway, I hope I don't lose any readership over the new oddities of this chapter, but I have to admit the story was starting to feel a bit stale for me and I needed something fresh to get me going again. Hopefully this will be it. You know what that would mean, don't you? Less time between postings. Cross your fingers.

Now it's respond to review time:

To Lavender Sakura: Thank you for supporting me!

To Lady Socraties: Did you think you'd get such a quick response? ;) Lucky timing, I guess. I'll check out your stories though if I can.

To busoshwe: And now I'm updating again. KH is fun—can't wait until the new one comes out! Jobs are good because money is good (even if it is the root of all evil). I've certainly been there with the job you don't like but pays the bills. Good luck! Mmm . . . chocolate.

To animegirl11: Thanks for your detailed review! Yeah, I've noticed some of those spelling and grammar things and they bug the crap out of me. Somehow though, I just never remember to go back and fix them. Continue reading for my response to Unamused. Yeah, AU is definitely going on, which, as you said, leads to OOC according to the canon. Part of the difficulty with my story is that it is not a post series fic. I think that makes it difficult for some people to accept the OOC. And, though I know I have a tendency toward the melodramatic (though I'm glad to hear it's not quite to the soap opera level). This story started out as a parody, after all and still has some parody elements despite all the drama. I think the word that best describes it is eccentric because I'm playing around with style and letting loose with some conventions I normally hold back on simply because I want to see where it will lead. I've been writing a long time before this story, and this fanfic came about partly because I wanted to experiment a little. I agree that the video game references get a bit heavy at times, but people seem to praise them far more than they reject them, so I think I'm okay on that front. I really appreciated your feedback!

To AmonKnight: Thanks for all the reviews, and I'm glad you enjoyed it. People react differently to things, so I like hearing people's individual reactions, but as far as the things you found funny, I don't find them odd. This story is rather wry in some ways because of the juxtaposition of funny scenes and extreme drama. Laughter is not always a bad thing.

To l42: Thanks, lizalou. You already know my mind. ;)

To tankbbg: Thank you again for supporting me.

To Midemixi: Thanks again! Sorry you were attacked because of it.

To Unamused: Crude, indeed.

I sincerely hope you never read this. Not because I'm afraid of how you'll reply, but because I simply cannot imagine someone who was so thoroughly "unamused" by a story would come back and continue reading it. That is of course, if you wrote your review out of honest, careful consideration and not because you just wanted to see what kind of reactions you could get. If you did write the review with a serious mindset, kindly keep in mind that tactless wording and a pretentious attitude tend to make people defensive in general, not open to criticism. In other words, an honest, critical review should not be phrased as an attack.

Somehow though, I'm fairly certain honest and useful criticism were not your main goals. I can come to this conclusion by observing your actions after posting the review. You obviously kept tabs on the reviews for this story since you chose to attack one of the reviewers who defended my writing style—yes, I do have one, whether it's to your liking or not. I only have one word to respond to this kind of juvenile behavior: karma. It doesn't really matter what I say about your actions, you are the one who will have to deal with their consequences. It appears you suffer from the same kind of delusion most "flamers" suffer from; though you may understand in principle that the people you interact with on the internet are real people, you don't treat them with the respect with which you would treat someone you met on the street—at least I hope you treat people better in your day to day life than you treat people on the internet, because otherwise you're likely to be a very lonely person.

In conclusion, I'm sorry you were not amused by my story. I was. And, apparently, so were a lot of other people. So, though I take your comments in the serious manner I am going to assume--giving you the benefit of the doubt—that you wrote them in, I have decided to go with the majority on this one, and continue writing my story the way I have been. If you have any critiques more useful than not liking my writing style or commenting on things I have already warned readers about (OOC, for example), please feel free to share them in a mature manner with respect to me as a human being. Otherwise, either keep your comments to yourself, or find a story that actually amuses you!

I have not removed your review because I believe the number of other well-rounded reviews speak for themselves, but if you choose to write another anonymous review baselessly throwing around snide criticisms, it will be deleted. I don't have time to be constantly responding to your angry accusations. I barely have time to work on this story and respond to all the respectful reviewers in the first place.

To dragonlady25: Thank you. I'm not sure how much more background I will give about the situation between Amon and Zaizen, but I'm thinking there will be more since I've decided to add more about Simone. As for uploading my story, I was unable to follow the link you gave. Also, I have a site which I am posting my story on outside of this one, and I think I would rather keep it there, though you can certainly link to it.

To tif: Though I appreciate the request, I don't know when I'll have time for another totally new fic. We'll see though.

To Sweetbox: Thanks

To Kim "Shadow Fox" Klein: I hope the freakiness is still of the good kind. ;)

To Libitina De Averna: Sorry for the wait

To Kaiba-amon: Thanks! I had fun with that voice mail thing.

To Tefla: Thank you. Welcome to the WHR craze. :)

To Annabella5: Thanks so much.

To Fallen Angel: Thanks, and I agree that the Holy Grail is awesome.

To Seashah: Thanks, and sorry for the wait. I know I'm evil for still not explaining the scene at the beginning of the last chapter, but truth takes time. :)

To gullwings' princess: Thanks, and I haven't a clue how long this will be. Eventually it will end though (and another story begin. Bwhahaha)

To omasuoniwabanshi: Thanks. More Nagira soon, just not this chapter. Sorry. And, my job has been less crazy lately, though the holidays have made the rest of my life crazy—but in a good way.

To Cat/Wolf Witch Kyobi: Thank you. All but Beatrice are characters from DMC. She is my own odd creation.

To Robin: Thanks! Don't die. :) Robin is not the mother, I'm sorry to say, but we will be learning more about Simone in the future.

To Yukari Youkai: Thanks! Yeah, it's hard getting the flow back. And I'm afraid I've just totally redirected it this chapter. Hope it was in a good way and still shiny.

To AVAAntares: Well, you didn't have to wait quite as long this time. I so want to see your drawings and stuff. Pretty, pretty please?

To lizalou42: I'm responding to you again? I'm getting lazy now though . . . btw, I enjoyed that typo

To Ann: Three Amon's definitely has possibilities. And I really don't know how the Valium in the ice cream thing would work since I haven't done a real experiment, just the one on the characters in my head. As far as the Space Michael thing goes, believe it or not, it actually comes from a video game called Space Channel 5. It's scary.

Well, I hope I responded to everyone. If I missed you, I apologize. See you all next time.