Kurama.

I assured her I would tell her what I knew when I researched some more. That meant, unfortunately, that I would have to wait for Hiei. I wondered if I should ask him outright. He would be suspicious when I brought up something so far in the past, but I was unsure whether he would be angry enough to do anything about it when he found out why I was asking.

Would he take it upon himself to hunt down Reikai and those who brainwashed him?

At least, not working under Yomi anymore had its perks, as I could come and go as I pleased. Though Yusuke worked with Yomi and Mukuro directly, and thus technically I was under his command still, I was not bound by blackmail.

The building was up and running now, spare working electricity. Curtains were pulled open to aid in sight, and technology was being set up around the compound in a hurry. The arena was still being built, but the building was becoming a priority, as records and payments from those who entered needed to be taken into account. I oversaw the technology input, as Gandara was known as a pioneer in groundbreaking technology for the last five hundred years.

Hiei arrived with new workers in tow from Mukuro's territory, using one of her special, large service insects. I caught him at the entrance, standing stiff as a board as he watched workers file inside the building. A gust of hot, damp wind from the nearby jungle blew by as I approached him. He uncrossed his arms from his chest as he noticed me.

"This is coming along faster than I thought," he noted.

"Still, not fast enough," I replied, and he looked from the tall building to me.

"What? More orders from Yomi?" he asked, brow cocked in suspicion.

"No, I actually was curious about something," I said. "When we stole the artifacts from Reikai, how did you find out about them?"

"Oh, you mean so you can hurry back to her and her mission." His eyes narrowed. "What does this have to do with it?"

I smiled, hoping it would ease his growing anger. "There may be a pattern, but I wanted to know before I told her there was one."

He searched my face, eyes moving slightly. Finally, he conceded. "I talked to a human."

I knew it. "Why did you want the Shadow Sword originally?"

"I'm not here to be interrogated," he said, turning on his heels to walk back to the large bug.

"You lost yourself to that sword," I reminded him. "You remember it well, don't you?"

"Are you saying a soul eater set me up?" He paused, voice lowering.

"I don't know," I replied. "That is why I'm asking."

He turned around to face me again. "I initially asked that human about the Forlorn Hope." To find and save Yukina. "She told me about it, but told me of the other artifacts as well. As days passed, I found myself wanting the sword more. Besides, what use was knowledge of where she was if I couldn't find and save her? What use was wishing her freedom if I couldn't keep her safe afterwards?"

"And then you contacted me," I continued. "Because I could get you into the vault. You knew at the time I would want the Forlorn Hope."

He stared at me, anger growing in the red of his eyes.

"That sword changed you, made you power hungry," I said. "You were nothing like that before the sword, nor were you anything like it afterwards. Do you remember anything while you had it?"

"No," he snapped. His pride was at stake. I knew he remembered, but his pride was holding his tongue. It was truly like pulling teeth with him. "I was just overconfident; I wanted to use it to get me back to the power level I had before getting this Jagan."

"Hiei, please." I spoke calmly. "I need to know the truth. It's very important."

His gritted his teeth as his eyes locked onto mine. His loyalty and pride were at war. It felt like minutes passed by before he responded. "The idea of power got to my head. Leave it at that."

"I have just one more question," I said, and I heard a low growl from his throat. I asked anyway. "Did she give you anything?"

His eyes averted mine in thought. "We met in a restaurant here in Yomi's territory. She paid for my meal after talking to me. She left me a vial of the sword's antidote."

My brows knitted together. "The sword came with the antidote, did it not?"

"It did, but not much." He refrained from snapping at me. His lips were growing tighter. "I added what I had to the vial. There wasn't much in there to begin with."

I found myself smiling. He truly was trying his best here. "Thank you. That's enough for me."

His face was still contorted in annoyance. "What does that mean for your girl?"

"It's only a conspiracy," I replied. "But the soul eaters may indeed be human."

"They are. Part of Reikai, no doubt. And when this tournament is over," he said, turning back around to head to the giant insect. "If the revolution is still happening, I may have some revenge."

"If we find the soul eater you talked to, I will surely send you her way."

He let out a single laugh as he hopped up onto the giant pill bug. "If someone else hasn't slit her throat first."

I watched as it began scurrying away, kicking up dust as it headed back into the jungle towards Mukuro's territory. I had a bit more research to do before I brought it up to her, to make sure, but I had a feeling I was already right.

Fukui.

The apartment was empty, aside from me. From my spot in the bathroom, I could hear an old song from the CD player. Yomashita Tetsuro's voice played softly over a piano ballad. I sank down further in the tub, hands above water still. My mind was racing. I stared at the wet razor I had pulled apart from a shaving razor in one hand, pinched between my fingers, and the pile of klonopin I had dug out of Akane's room in the other. The water was cold now, prickling my skin.

If I go through with this now, I wouldn't have to deal with anything else. What was there for me in the future, if it did all work out? A slap on the wrist? Admiration and adoration from millions?

Yeah, right.

It hurt to move in the cold water, my skin begging for warmth. My eyes stung as tears pushed their way out again.

And if it didn't work out? At best, if I wasn't found out and killed, I was going to keep living like this. I was going to keep feeling like this.

I didn't want to keep living like this. I didn't want to keep feeling like this. But most of all, at this moment, I didn't want to be alone. I wanted my hand held as I fell asleep in the tub. I wanted someone talking me to sleep.

I wanted to go with love.

And yet, here I was, again. Alone.

I found myself sitting upright with heavy breathes. Arms shaking, I stared at the pills. I was so cold. I wanted my hand held. My breathing hitched as I pushed myself.

I didn't want to keep being alone. I didn't want to keep ruining everyone that crossed paths with me. I didn't want to keep giving myself to people for them to leave. I didn't want to keep ruining myself. I didn't want to keep doing any of this. I didn't want to be unloved forever.

My breathing quickened. I closed my fist around the pills, some falling from my palm and into the water. I gritted my teeth.

Did you want to keep living every day like this? I asked myself. Did you want to keep feeling every day like this? When have you ever felt different?

As I pushed the fist to my mouth, the bathroom door slid open. I paused, bloodshot eyes shooting to the entrance, mouth agape with stray pills sticking to my tongue.

There, Akane stood, with a blank expression. We shared a knowing stare.

"Well?" she asked. "Go on."

I stared at her, clenched hand frozen in front of my mouth. A few pills spilled out of my grasp and into the water, and my mouth.

Her face was different. There was no judgment in this moment. Only disappointment. Her voice was calm. "Fate got you here. You can get yourself out. Where's your courage?"

Tears spilled down my face still as my hands fell into the water. She watched me, eyes cold.

"I can't believe you still have hope," she continued. "Go on, pick them back up. Put them back in your mouth."

The razor slipped from my grip as a small sob left my throat, and then more erupted. The overflowing spit was pushing out the sticky pills from my mouth. My hand covered my face and my knees pulled to my chest as the little yellow pills slid down my face.

"This is how it is, Hitomi. Either go through with it, or accept it."

I shrunk into myself, hearing how loud I'd become. She stood in the doorway for another moment before turning to leave, muttering under her breath. And still, all I could think about was how badly I wanted my hand held.

Suzume.

I set Natsume's dark brew on the counter, the last drink from the order she'd made, and she picked everything up quickly. "Thanks, Yori."

Her soft, straightened hair fluttered behind her as she carried the drinks to her table. I eyed the girls, unnerved. Natsume and Hayashi had new hair, eerie enough to almost resemble each other. Natsume's normal perm had been straightened to give such a shine it almost seemed lighter; while Hayashi had undergone a dye treatment that brought her back to what was likely her natural color, a soft chestnut brown.

In between the two sat Fukui, with tired eyes and damp hair thrown into a bun. She seemed relatively unchanged, in terms of outward appearance. Natsume seemed to leave her alone today, straying from her usual quips and insults. The group was unusually quiet. Hayashi flipped through a couple of small textbooks as Fukui stared at her hot chocolate in a daze. Natsume looked between the two before rolling her eyes and digging through her bag to pull out her own books.

The shop today was fairly busy, and the chatter was a bit louder than normal. Usually the chatter came from Natsume herself, but she was being forced into silence from an awkward atmosphere.

"Hey, Ito." I heard my coworker come up behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find the young girl piling her long black hair into a bun. "I'm clocking in, so why don't you take your break?"

"Sure, can I make a drink before I go?"

"Sure!" She smiled, her slightly crooked teeth giving her a sweet charm.

After picking my brew, I decided to try one of Hayashi's common drinks—she loved the caramel flavor, whip cream, and caramel syrup we spread on top. I made my way to the group at the far corner table, noting how Fukui hadn't seemed to move an inch as the girls studied.

"Mind if I spend my short break with you all?" I pulled a chair out to sit down.

"Oh, thank god," Natsume huffed and closed her textbook. "Someone to talk to. Sit down."

I sat down in the free, cushioned seat, between Fukui and Natsume. "How are finals going?"

Fukui didn't acknowledge me or the drink in front of her. Natsume shoved her book in her bag. "It's going," she sighed. "I don't care about this year anymore. I want to be in new classes. I want to do something exciting for my finals but they're just group presentations. Ami gets to do a concert."

"Oh, that sounds exciting," I said, remembering the plan Aiko had mentioned. "What are you singing? Or playing?"

"It took a lot of thought but I've settled on Queen of the Night," she replied with a smile. "Or, Der Hölle Rache."

"Oh! What opera is that from?" I took a sip of the coffee, surprised at Hayashi's perfect pronunciation. I set the cup back down, inching it away from me; it was a bit too sweet for my liking.

"The Magic Flute," she replied. "It's sung by the main antagonist."

"Why don't you come, Yori?" Fukui asked suddenly, striking surprise into us all.

"Do we have enough tickets?" Natsume said, eyeing her like she had three heads. "Our parents are supposed to be coming—"

"My father is staying late to finish the budget proposal that night for the quarterly meeting, remember?" Fukui lifted her gaze to the straight-haired brunette.

Natsume looked between her and Hayashi before rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up lazily in defeat. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Yori can come. I don't care." She looked to me. "It's formal wear."

"Sounds fun!" I smiled. "What day is it? I'll try to ask for that night off."

Hayashi mentioned the date to me as I tried sneaking a glance to Fukui, who was back to staring at the table. Her eyes were glossy, glazed over, and tears were creeping at the corner. The busy noise of the café grew louder as the silence at the table grew thicker. It was like we were waiting for the dam to break loose.

Except it never did.

Hayashi pushed a napkin across the table to me. The date, time, and location were written on the paper in hot pink ink. It had a heart drawn next to the time.

"Ito!" My coworker called to me, she was stuck alone behind the counter with a growing line.

"Coming!" I stood quickly before looking to Hayashi, who gave me a warm, glossy lipped smile. I gave a shaky smile before heading back behind the counter. I heard Natsume snickering.

Koenma.

"Hotei, wait!" A familiar voice echoed, albeit muffled, from the hallway. I looked up from my desk as the large twin doors opened, showcasing a familiar but not particularly wanted face.

Hotei strode into my room, face stern and determined like I'd never seen it before. It surprised me, but I quickly put the pieces together as Benzaiten hurried in after him. Her red kimono flowed after her as she tried catching up to him, but he was already at my desk, setting Chapter Black in front of me.

"Do you have any idea what you're trying to do?" he asked as I reached for the tape.

My fingers brushed along it as I pulled it towards me. I looked behind him to Benzaiten, whose gentle face wrinkled with worry.

"Yes," I replied, settling my gaze on Hotei. His narrow eyes managed to thin more. "I take it you saw some footage on here?"

"And if you were to show Reikai, what good would it do?" Hotei ignored me.

We stared at each other. My mafuken moved around slightly in my mouth, and I rested my hands on the table. "Change."

"Change?" His brows rose, and he held his lips from curling in disgust. "It seems more like you want to incite something."

"I would much rather it not escalate to that," I replied. "Who is it you recognized on there?"

"It seems like you're trying to take your father's spot." He wasn't willing to have a conversation.

"I would much rather keep my position for another couple millennia, if possible, considering I don't wish to deal with all the paperwork my father does."

"Then I will get rid of it." He reached for the tape.

"You will not!" Benzaiten stormed past Hotei and pulled it from his grasp just as he'd taken it from mine. "It is history, Hotei! This was not meant to cause the destruction that it has; it was meant to serve as a reminder to learn from our mistakes."

"Benzaiten, humans are not as wistful and naïve as you are," Hotei replied, holding out his hand. Benzaiten's soft face frowned furiously. "And neither are most gods."

"I created it," she said firmly. "It is mine. I shall do with it as I please."

He looked from her to me, and then turned on his heels to the doors. His thin, brown garb fluttered after him. "Be careful who sees that."

He continued out of the room, the large doors heaving shut loudly behind him. Benzaiten's shoulders slumped as she let out a quiet sigh, and she set down the tape on my desk. I reached for it, my fingertips brushing against hers as she pulled them away gingerly. I looked to her, but worry didn't grace her face now.

"I think he is more worried about what will happen to us if we move forward."

It wasn't "us" he was worried about, but I nodded thoughtfully.

"The day of your plan is coming closer, is it not?" she asked.

"When we call for all of Reikai's attention, we'll show footage of the tape," I said. "Have you found the times you would like to use?"

She nodded; a faraway look glazed over her eyes. "I hope we can resolve this peacefully."

"At least in Reikai, we have a chance."

Aiko.

Kurama worried me. It wasn't that he wasn't the type to give gifts—by now, we had exchanged Christmas presents, Valentine's and White day gifts, and I had given him a present when his birthday passed in September. It was random gifts that struck me as a surprise.

My fingers tightened around the plastic bag that held the small jewelry box. He let me choose whatever I wanted when we went to the quaint jewelry store. I picked the last pair of large, gold, heart-shaped hoop earrings they had. He insisted that they were an early birthday present, but my birthday was a few weeks away in early April. My cheeks burned, and my heart fluttered around chaotically, flying for a moment and sinking the next. I couldn't help but be worried he was worried about me. Why wouldn't he wait until then? Because our mission date was before then…

"Who was it you said you were meeting again?" Kurama's voice pulled me out of my thoughts as we strolled through the shadier end of the city's local shopping district.

He eyed the clientele, noting the delinquents of varying ages scattered throughout the street, loitering in front of shops and openly smoking and drinking. Even at dusk, with the beautiful orange sunset in the scenery, it was shameful to see the sight. People who considered themselves well-off, or respected, didn't venture down towards this end until at least nightfall, in hopes that nobody would recognize them. The cute, family friendly restaurants and shops died off a while ago, and now bars, clubs, and unspoken gang territory restaurants were prepping to open shop.

"My old coworker," I replied, looking up at him as he walked next to me. He scooped his hair up from around his shoulders and pulled a hair tie from his wrist to tie his hair up. "We used to work at the grocery store. He was the one who did the tournament with me for the Megallica tickets."

"I don't think we've met," he responded, pushing his hands into his jacket's pockets.

"He's got a mouth on him," I laughed. "I don't think you'll want to meet him again after this. You remember Amakusa?"

"He dropped out last term, didn't he?"

I sighed, realizing this wasn't helping. "Yeah…"

We slowed to a stop as a sign caught my eye. I dug in my purple cardigan's pocket to pull out a piece of paper. When I had been talking to Hirogawa on the phone, I'd scribbled the name of the place he asked to meet me at. He insisted his phone line was being tapped and required me to meet him in person. I looked back up to the sign, irritated at the sight of two feminine legs, clad in lingerie stockings and black heels. They posed seductively as the kanji alongside it read Midnight's Mistress. The neon lights of the characters suddenly lit up, flashing a bright red and yellow.

"Classy," Kurama noted as I groaned.

I looked around the street, scanning for faces, before descending into the staircase that led to the black wood entrance door. Red neon lights lit the way, illuminating the brick walls around us.

"Imagine if our classmates saw us." Kurama had a smile in his voice. "It would be quite the rumor for us to be attending an… adult club."

"That's why I was looking around!"

"My mother may faint if she found out," he sighed.

I reached around and grabbed the collar of his olive jacket as he played a small laugh, taunting my growls. I wanted to laugh too. The mere thought of my parents thinking I had taken up escorting as a means to stay off the streets since I'd been kicked out was actually so sad that it became a little funny. I let go of his collar as his chuckling quieted, and I knocked on the door bathed in red light. After a few moments, there was no answer. I grabbed the handle and found it was surprisingly unlocked. I didn't think they'd open so soon, but maybe it was because I was being expected.

We stepped inside the dimly lit establishment, taking note of the red, and now purple, neon lights weaving through the narrow, short hallway. I reached for Kurama, who lent me his hand, and we cautiously followed the lights down the hall until we reached the club floor.

It was still dim; overhead lights were cast low. I scanned the room quickly, taking in the tables and booths shoved to the side of the large room; the island bar planted in the middle of the dance floor; and then the DJ's stage at the far end, opposite to us.

I felt oddly overdressed with my fluffy, purple cardigan; the tight, light-washed jeans and baggy, white crop top would have gotten me into this nightclub, but I would have been considered a bit casual. If Kurama had lost the olive jacket and kept the tucked in shirt and slacks, he may have passed for some high roller in a booth… but that was probably my bias.

We walked through the empty dance floor, hearing voices from the other side of the island bar. It was a large, cylindrical pillar that had many shelves to house the variety of alcohol. A couple feet away from the pillar was the counter circling around it, with stools sat on the other end. Hirogawa was on the other end of the island, with at least two other people.

I had expected both Amakusa and Sasakawa, but when we rounded the island, I was surprised.

"Masao?" I gawked, eyes practically bugging out of my skull.

"Stray Cat!" Hirogawa cheered, mixed drink spiking to the air in celebration.

"Number oh-two-oh-two-three," Masao whistled. "What a surprise."

"Hey, Hojo." Amakusa nodded to me with his drink in hand.

"What are you doing here?" I all but spat.

"Oh, little Akito didn't tell you?" he cooed, reaching over the counter to pinch Hirogawa's plump cheeks. "I quit the grocery store and went in on a partnership to open this club."

With Hirogawa? With someone else? Did I even care enough to ask? I stared at him for a moment before turning my gaze to Hirogawa. "Can we talk?"

Hirogawa shrugged and looked to Masao.

"Oh, don't let me get in the way of you two doing your little dirty business, but… let me let you in on something, pumpkin." Masao moved closer to me around the island and leaned on the counter when he was in front of us. He perched himself on his elbows and laced his fingers together to rest his chin upon them, batting his lashes at me obnoxiously. "Any business done in this establishment goes through me, no matter how minor, so whatever you have to say to little Akito, you can so, so, so, so say it in front of me."

I looked between the two, my eyes moving from this grown man whose pride must have been absolutely trampled as a child to end up like this to the idiot milking his Tom Colin's.

"I'm Masao," he said, not even offering his last name as he glanced up to Kurama.

"Charmed." Kurama dismissed him with a polite smile.

"I don't want to do business," I snapped. "I just want a fucking map."

Masao looked at me and then turned his gaze over his shoulder to Hirogawa. "A what?"

Hirogawa looked to me. "A what?"

"A map?" I was dumbfounded. "You have all those fucking maps to those mansions in your car, you idiot. I just wanted a map."

"Oh, I thought…" Hirogawa set his drink down and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you just say so when you called?"

I inhaled and felt something behind my right eye snapped. "Because you rushed me off the phone saying your line was tapped, you fucking brain dead rodent!"

"Oh…" We all looked at each other, the silence becoming heavier every passing second. "Well, what's in it for me?"

I breathed deeply and closed my eyes. I knew Hirogawa was going to ask for a favor in return, but the stupidity of this entire room was actually getting to me.

"A trade," Kurama offered, surprising me.

I didn't plan on him being part of this interaction. He dug in his slack's pocket to pull out a small baggie. I eyed the white powder, wondering what he could have possibly dreamed up that he deemed safe enough to give them. It looked familiar, like the powder he'd given me... It was enough for probably one use.

"What's that?" Hirogawa's eyes lit up and he moved from his spot towards us.

"A friend visiting from overseas gave it to me, it's a hallucinogen," Kurama explained, setting the small bag on the counter for the three of them to hover over it. "Supposedly, you begin hallucinating before you fall asleep, and it carries into your dreams."

"Supposedly?" Amakusa repeated. "So you've never tried it?"

"I personally find no joy in hallucinogens." He shrugged.

I trusted his judgement. "Fair trade?"

"If I like it," Hirogawa said, picking it up. "Where would I get more?"

Kurama shook his head, his ponytail swaying with him. "I'm sorry, but he said he got it overseas. I wouldn't know if there's a dealer here for it."

"Well…" Hirogawa gave it little thought. "I think it's a fair trade for a stupid map. Which do you want?"

Kurama eyed me as I responded. "Whichever is closest to our city. Just not the one you had dropped me off at."

"Sure." He picked up the baggie and slid it in his pocket, and dug in his varsity jacket for his keys. "I'll be right back."

"Holding another tournament?" Amakusa asked as Hirogawa left towards the back exit.

"No, I need it for..." My voice died out. "A prank."

Masao eyed me, resting his head in his hand. I looked to him and felt irritation welling back up in my throat.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" I asked through a clenched smile.

"Well," he mused. His tone was serious, and his typical enunciation was left out. "I was just noticing how much you've grown."

"That's disgusting, you fr—" He cut me off.

"I don't mean it like that." He waved his hand at me and then pointed his finger between me and Kurama, where our fingers were still linked. "I mean that."

"Ah…" I looked to our hands. I worried Kurama may be uncomfortable with public displays of affection, but his loose grip didn't falter, so mine didn't either.

"You were always such an angry little girl, especially regarding personal space," he continued. "Obviously some of it is still there, but I've seen it happen plenty times. Love softens anger."

I wasn't sure what to say; my face was burning, and my mind was reeling. Embarrassment crept up in my heart, and I looked to Kurama, whose calm smile had yet to falter. His eyes wandered to the back door that was opening.

"Here," Hirogawa called, waving the bundled map above his head. In his other hand, he loosely held a ring of keys. "This is the one closest to us aside from the one in the next city. It's in Sendai."

His words weren't registering. I was still processing Masao's statement.

"Why's your face red?" Hirogawa asked, waving the map in front of my face. He smirked and struck a silly pose. "Is it because I'm so dashing?"

Kurama held his free hand out. "Definitely."

"Tch." Hirogawa shoved the map into his hand and then shoved the key ring in my face. "Here."

I took them without much thought, the keys jingling as they fell to my side.

"Shall we go, then?" Kurama asked, and I averted my gaze. He looked to the group of men and gave a soft bow. "Thank you for your help. We'll be going now."

I nodded without much thought, following suit, and he tugged me along. He guided me out of the club and into the now dark street. The air was cool against my face and stomach, refreshing my thoughts. I looked down to our hands again, wondering why it felt so natural to me. But then, why should it matter? Did I really need to think about it? Wasn't being happy about it enough?

I looked to Kurama again, watching what little light was left from the sliver of sun disappearing over the horizon cast on his face. My heart welled up; it felt like it was overflowing. My footsteps slowed, and so did his in turn.

He looked down to me, silent and patient. I wasn't sure what to say as we stood still in the darkening street. Streetlights slowly flickered on, and wind swept past us. A lot of words raced through my mind, and yet I didn't know how to put any of them together.

"I…" I managed to choke words out of my throat. "Do you—"

A soft beeping chimed in my purse, and we both recognized it immediately. I hesitated in answering my compact, but Kurama gave me a calm smile.

"It's likely important," he said softly.

"You're right…" I mumbled, and freed my hand from his to dig through my purse. I flipped open the purple mirror, and Suzume's new body appeared on screen. "Is something wrong?"

"Fukui did something strange today," she responded.

"Strange?" I asked, as Kurama inched closer to me. I wanted to ask if she had a public breakdown—which wouldn't be strange for her, per se. But to people who haven't seen it before…

"She invited me to the opera in front of Natsume and Hayashi."

I paused, mind shifting gears and running in another direction. That was bold of her, to actually contribute something of that level. I was more surprised Natsume and Hayashi hadn't objected.

"I guess that makes things a little easier for us, doesn't it?"