Under absolutely no circumstances were you leaving home. Not for anything. Even though your stocks of food had dwindled down to nothing more than rations of Colour Rice and simple water, you refused to leave the safety of home. Not until the gross green and purple welt of your black eye had dissipated, but from the looks of it, that could still be weeks away. Still, after a few weeks, you weren't going to go anywhere. Not for anything or anyone.

It had taken three days before the swelling had gone down enough for you to see out of your right eye again; the small break enough for your (e/c) eyes to peek out from underneath a mass of weeping skin gave you an iota of relief. Too bad you couldn't say the same about how it felt; the bruising from Nendou's ogre-like hands had really done a number on your face. A ring he had been wearing had also left a deep scratch just under your eyelid as well, which had openly bled numerous times over those seventy-two hours.

You had ignored the pile of letters at the base of your door; normally you would be jumping on them as soon as you could but you didn't feel motivated enough to retrieve them. Instead, they were slowly gathering higher as the days progressed, and you had ignored the rapping on your door from whoever it was on the other side when it happened. You figured it was just the landlord chasing up monthly rent like clockwork. He wasn't a bad person, he just had his routine that he liked to stick to. If he came by again, maybe you would speak to him through the wooden barricade and assure him that he would get his money soon. You had always paid on time, if not earlier, so he didn't pester you like he did with other tenants.

It was because of your consistency that he had grown worried about your state. Unbeknownst to you, he had just been climbing the main staircase back to his room when he witnessed you staggering back home the other night. Your languid steps had caused him enough concern that he considered calling for help from authorities, but he didn't want to pry into matters that weren't his own. Perhaps you had just had too much to drink; it was night time after all, and your face had been concealed in harsh shadows from the curves and angles of the building. He had begun to grow increasingly more anxious when you hadn't left your home since, and passing by, he could hear the sounds of soft weeping permeating through the walls, so he came by every day to check on your wellbeing. Not that you ever answered him though, but he would keep trying.

Today was no exception, and as he made his way downstairs, he was surprised to find another figure standing outside of your door. A tall man, covered in wrappings of green and a heavy cloak across his shoulders. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Excuse me sir," he asked, taking the final steps with his broad legs. "Are you here to see the young miss?"

The stranger turned around and gave the landlord a welcoming smile.

"Hello there. Yes, I was wondering if she was home?"

"Goodness. Forgive me for asking, but are you Heavenly King Coco?"

The landlord breathed a small sigh when Coco nodded his head.

"You wouldn't happen to be friends with her, would you?" He asked Coco, a troubled look on his face.

"Yes, I believe so. Is something the matter?"

Letting out a deep sigh, the other man rubbed a hand over his balding head.

"I noticed the other night she seemed a little…off when she came home." He explained, trying his best to sound impartial. "From my understanding, I don't believe she's left here since, but it's unlike her not to go out at all."

Coco's eyes had clouded over with his own fears, but he kept up his stoic façade.

"I see." He said, turning back to stare at the wooden door.

"Has there been anyone coming here?" Coco questioned, still looking at the door. Truthfully, he was looking past the chipped paint and flecks of dirt to see if there was any trace of your electromagnetic waves. He could make out the distinct colour of your waves, but didn't like how they lulled about like a thick cloud.

"I haven't seen anyone else come to visit." The landlord said. "In fact, you're the first one. I've tried checking in on her just to see if she's okay, but she hasn't answered me."

His mouth drooped and Coco noted the genuine concern he had for you. He was thankful to hear that you hadn't been conducting any business in your home, but it troubled him to find out that you hadn't been seen for a long time.

"You don't think you could coax her out, do you?" The landlord said, twiddling his fingers as he said so. "Maybe hearing someone she's close with might make her feel better."

"I'll keep trying," Coco said, turning back to give the other man his thanks. "I appreciate that there was someone looking out for her in the meantime."

"Oh, it's nothing. She's been nothing but a good tenant, and a good person over the years."

"I'll be sure to let you know if I have any progress."

With that, the landlord nodded and began making his way back up the stairs, leaving the Heavenly King to his own devices. Coco knocked on the door softly.

"(Y/n)? Are you home?" he called out, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself.

Silence returned his call.

He knocked again, still just as softly as before.

"(Y/n), could I come in?"

Silence.

A beat of silence passed before he cleared his throat. He was going to try again before he heard the soft thuds of footsteps on hardwood floors.

"Just a second." He heard you call flatly; your words muffled by walls. "I have the rent money here. I'm sorry for not-"

The door pushed open slightly with a soft creak and your small hand poked out with a small envelope addressed to the landlord.

"-getting it to you sooner." You finished. You peeked out just barely behind the crack in the door frame before you flinched as a cool softness enveloped your hand entirely.

"What are you-" you started, before jumping at the sight of the person before you.

"…Coco?" you whispered.

"Hey (y/n)." He said quietly, as you looked down to see he had wrapped both of his hands around yours. 'It's been a while."

You wanted to sink through the floorboards right now. Never had you expected to be seeing him again, especially not after what happened to you, but you knew better than to shut him out after he had travelled all this way.

"Is it okay if I come in?" he asked, removing his hands from yours. Internally, you begged for his contact again.

"Umm… sure." You said softly, stepping away from the door to grant him entrance. You didn't have the courage to open it yourself, so you waited for him to take the initiative. He pushed it open gently and the smile on his lips dropped the moment his eyes fell on you. In the blink of an eye, he had shut the door and began cradling your face and checking it over.

'What happened?" he said, malice tainting his tone.

"I fell…" you lied, weakly. You mentally slapped yourself. What was the point of lying? He could see right through you; literally.

Coco locked eyes with you and stared you down with an arched eyebrow.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/n)." he said bluntly, making mental observations of the bruising of your black eye. Half of your eye was also a vibrant crimson; a burst blood vessel no doubt.

"I-I…fell… r-really." You stuttered, blinking and looking away. "I-I tripped, and…"

Your internal dams crumbled and your broke down into sobs, falling to your knees and crying into your palms.

"I-I'm… I'm a…" You choked, trying to force down a lungful of air between your sobs. You tried to continue talking but you were encircled by strong arms that pulled you in close. Underneath your cries and chokes, you could hear the thrumming of Coco's heartbeat. It was strangely forceful. You cried into his chest, letting a wave of pent up emotions flood out into the open. Coco was sitting on the floor against the couch he was so familiar with. He changed nothing about his stance as you wept freely. The only thought plaguing him was his conviction to find out what happened to you, but he would let you be for the moment.

Hearing you cry made his heart twist in an uncomfortable way. He hadn't ever experienced this feeling before, but he could only describe it as his heart trying to tear itself apart. He ran his hand gently through your (h/c) locks and pulled you closer to him; almost like he wanted to squeeze the pieces of you back together. A quiet rage burned behind his irises.

Soft ticking permeated the quiet room between your cries, and little by little you pulled yourself into a bearable state. Rivers of tears slowed to quiet drizzles before stemming completely. Your breath rattled with every deep gulp of air as you calmed down.

"I'm sorry." You said, barely above a whisper. "I didn't want anyone to see me like this."

"(Y/n), what happened?" He probed again gently, cradling you still.

"…I got hurt." You said, talking into his chest still.

"I can see that… you weren't working, were you?"

You nodded, ever so lightly. That quite rage began to blaze through Coco's soul.

"Who hurt you?"

You pulled away from his chest and shook your head, still averting his eyes.

"I can't tell you that." You stated.

"Why not?"

"Contractual obligations."

You could see the muscles in his jaw pinching at that.

"You need to tell me. Please."

"I can't!" You implored to him.

"Why not?!"

"Because I have a responsibility to adhere to my policies."

"This is different! This is assault!"

"What exactly could you do about it? It's happened already, and besides, my line of work isn't exactly completely legal."

You could practically feel the tension emanating from Coco's body. You pulled away from his embrace and curled up next to him with your knees to your chest.

"Besides…" you started softly, staring at the floor. "What if someone wanted information about you? You can't just pick and choose who gets outed and who doesn't."

Coco understood your words, but it didn't quell the fire inside of him. There hadn't been many times where he had wanted to hurt anyone, only when he felt his own life was in danger, but this was different. It was like a monster inside of him wanted to rip someone apart, and he had to force himself to calm down. He took a deep breath and balled his hands and flexed them multiple times; a trick that he had taught himself when he was younger to detain his thoughts.

You both sat in silence for a while, lost in your own respective minds. You occasionally hiccupped and tried to stop sniffling, but inside your stomach was cold.

"I'm sorry for making your clothes wet." You apologised quietly, trying to force a smile his way.

Coco let out a single laugh of derision.

"It's really not a big deal." He said dismissively, before looking over at you again.

"Have you been to the doctor?" He asked, eyeing off your wound again.

You shook your head, bracing for a verbal repercussion.

"Going would have meant admitting how I got it and who gave it to me… I couldn't afford to do that."

You curled into your knees and hid your face from view, before mumbling out another sentence.

"…I'm such a screw-up."

"No, you really aren't." He responded, brushing some rogue strands of your hair and tucking them behind your ear. A crop of goose bumps erupted over your skin from his airy touch. Meanwhile, you kept your head tucked away, out of fear of looking up to see disappointment across his handsome features.

"I think you…" he said, looking out into empty space. A thick lump had formed in his throat, and he found himself struggling to finish his sentence.

"You think what?"

"…I think you…should go and pack some things." He said, repressing what he actually wanted to say. Maybe now wasn't the right time.

"Huh? Why?" This was enough to pique your interest and you looked at him confused.

"I think you should spend some time away from here. Maybe you could come and… spend some time with me?"

You blinked at Coco, and how uneasy he seemed to be. A hint of reserved embarrassment settled on his face; a look that you didn't think he was capable of producing.

"…are you really asking me to come home with you?" You asked, arching your eyebrow at him.

"I suppose you could put it that way…"

You thought for a moment before pulling yourself up and traipsing off to your room. Coco watched you as you walked away, trying to settle the hammering in his heart again. He could hear the sound of drawers and wardrobes opening and shutting intermittently.

Clearly, that was a yes.

"What's this?" You asked, as a steaming bowl of hot food was gently placed in front of you. Steam flickered lazily into the air before dissipating without a trace. Your mouth began to salivate with want as scents of spice bit at your nose.

"Curing Curry." Coco said, taking a seat at the table opposite you. "I've had to make it a lot over the years."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. You can probably imagine how battered the four of us had been when we were younger. I haven't had to make it as much as an adult, but it's still something I'm proud of."

"I'm guessing you guys had quite a rough childhood."

You scooped a decent amount onto your fork and blew on it before popping it into your mouth; savoury juice oozing out of tender pieces of meat, coupled with the crunch of fresh organic vegetables. As you chewed, you could feel your eye tingling; hidden medicines and nutrients from the food beginning to work wonders on you. You listened to Coco as you started to hoe into the bowl of food with ravenous movements; you hadn't eaten properly for weeks.

"It was rough in the beginning, but we used to train a lot for the most part. Toriko and Zebra were the ones that usually ended up the worst, so I ended up looking after them."

You swallowed the last of your curry, a content warmth spreading through your being as your face still tingled. Having a full stomach again felt so foreign to you.

"Didn't you guys have parents?" you asked, sighing contentedly and pushing the bowl away from you.

"Not in the traditional sense," Coco mused, resting his cheek on his hand. "For the most part, we were left to our own devices, so I just fell into the big brother role, I guess."

"That seems like a lot of responsibility for someone so young."

"Well, I am the eldest. I suppose that's natural?"

"Mmm… I guess." You thought, holding your head in your hand and surveying the room around you.

Coco's house was increasingly similar to the shop he maintained in Gourmet Fortune; the same style of stone that made his house of fortune also up the walls of his house. The roof was rounded off as well, and there was an attachment built into the side that looked like a silo from the outside. In truth, it was a narrow staircase that split off into two upstairs rooms. You hadn't had much of a tour of his house, but the best word you could describe it with was quaint. There was a much more minimalist feel to it all, the only 'luxuries' you could ascertain was his shelves of jars that housed more of the same unknown items back at his fortune house. You believed that some, if not most of them, were different forms of ingredients or spices, seeing as he had accessed a couple of them when he made you your food. The strangest thing, however, was that his dining table only had three chairs to it instead of four. When you first set foot into his home, this was the thing that immediately caught your eye. The whole set up radiated 'business', with its two chairs facing one solitary one adjacent to each other. At least the windows let in a calming natural light.

"I like your home." You said, giving him a smile. Even with the grotesque welt that was your eye, you started to feel a little more relaxed.

"Thank you. I don't have many visitors, so I apologise for the mess."

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for whatever 'mess' he was referring to. Compared to your place, his home made yours look like an absolute sty. The only thing you could see that seemed 'out of place' was a book by the kitchen counter; a feather sticking out of it towards the centre as a bookmark. You recognised that binding.

"Oh, was the book any good?" You asked, wandering over to pick it up and have another look at it.

"Yes. It has a lot of new information in it I wasn't aware of. Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

"It was no trouble. I…saw it and I thought of you…"

You trailed off, flicking through the pages and skimming your eyes at the inked sketches on the parchment. It looked interesting enough that you might even look through it some time. You set the book back down before turning back to him, hoping that your cheeks weren't pink anymore.

"So, do I get a tour of the house?"

Coco chuckled and stood up from his seat.

"You're welcome to go anywhere in here. Well, except for the bedroom at the top of the stairs. I haven't quite tidied it up for your arrival yet."

"So even this place has a guest room?"

"Not quite. It's my room."

You flinched at his comment.

"Eh? Your room? Why would I be staying in there?"

Coco blinked at you, dumbfounded.

"Because that's the only bed I have? I'll sleep on the lounge."

"No. No way you're doing that." You waved your hands at him while shaking your head multiple times. "I'm not kicking you out of your own bed in your own house!"

"But-"

"No buts!' You chided. "Trust me, the lounge will be fine for me. It's more than what I deserve right now."

Coco pondered a thought before answering,

"I'll let you have the lounge," he began, watching a smug smile form on your lips.

"Only if you stop talking down about yourself."

You were taken aback by his comment, and you looked away sheepishly.

"…Fine. I'll try." You relented, rubbing your left arm guiltily.

"Good." Coco said simply, before opening the door to the stair way. "I'm going for a shower. Please, make yourself at home."

With that, he swiftly turned on his heel and ascended the stairs, leaving you alone in his house. You looked around, suddenly apprehensive of leaving your spot in the kitchen. You pulled along your bag and trundled quietly into the next room over, laying eyes on your soon-to-be-bed. The lounge looked plump and soft, and very inviting. Definitely only really fit for one person though, not that you expected a love seat of some sort to be in a perpetual-bachelor's home. You gave a small smile and appreciated the number of bookshelves lining the walls; each one filled with copious amounts of books of varying subjects. Clearly, Coco was more attributed to intellect, rather than just sheer brawn. This would explain his level-headedness to almost every situation.

You sat on the lounge with a loud sigh, the weight of the day suddenly bearing down on you. You curled up onto your side, letting the soft fabric swallow you into its folds as your eyes started to droop. Before long, you were lulled into a sweet sleep, dreaming of nothing for once.

Hot, coursing water poured over Coco's body; travelling down all of his crests and valleys that his large muscles gave his form. Fatigue pawed at his psyche as he leant on the wall inside his small cubicle. Inviting someone to share his living space took a lot more courage and effort than he cared to admit, even if it was you that came home with him. The entire journey home on Kiss had him lost in his own thoughts, some even twisting into stimulating arousal at the presence of your touch once again. It was taking quite the toll on him to prevent succumbing to his thoughts and desires.

His thick poison began running off of his body in droves and swirling down away into the drain below. He referred to this process as shedding, since it helped him alleviate some of the build-up of poisons manifesting in this body. Even though he was used to the procedure, it still caused him pain to do it. He gritted his teeth and let out a small grunt as the next wave left his skin, gasping lightly for a breath after it was secreted. Frowning, he stared at a spot on his chest that was behaving rather bizarrely.

Coco knew the ins-and-outs of his body, especially when it came to his poisons, so he couldn't understand why an area of his chest refused to succumb to his ripples of purples. He let out the last set of poison for the night; his light skin around his heart stayed solid throughout this entire process.

His patch of skin happened to coincide perfectly with the area you had wept on earlier.