A/N: There will be a lengthy author's note at the end of this chapter, for anyone interested, just updating on everything that's going on with me, right now, and how that will affect the creation and release of future chapters.

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Chapter 26: Crossing Lines

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Nekozawa spent a long time in his shed, that day. Upon entering, the first thing he did was conjure his blue flames to light the two lanterns hanging inside. He closed the door behind him and latched it. The shed itself was made up of one room separated by a crude, stiff folding screen. The side he was currently on had an abundance of jars, some filled with ingredients, all lined perfectly across the shelved walls. He approached his desk and bent down to pull out a thick book stuffed with wrinkled parchment. He opened the tome after finding his ink and quill, and then set to work taking inventory of his various herbs and potions while writing a list on a separate sheet of the things he needed to refill. A dull headache began to make its presence known, which without a doubt was courtesy of Bereznoff, but Nekozawa did his best to ignore it and push through as he had done on several previous occasions.

When this first task was completed, he reached underneath the table, again, and fished out a pestle and mortar along with a clean bowl, a bulky tool roll, and a small scale. A bundle of corked bottles found their way to the table, thereafter. Meticulously, Nekozawa began extracting ingredients. He cut roots, weighed powders, measured liquids, and whispered magick into his mixtures. He was almost ready to heat his tiny cauldron when the sound of metal scraping against wood erupted from the other side of the folding screen. Nekozawa stopped what he was doing and held his breath while he listened. A few seconds later the scraping was joined by a low, raspy, guttural groan. Nekozawa sighed in defeat as he extended his hand across the desk to grab a vial filled with a lilac-colored solution. He uncorked his concoction and squeezed himself through the space between the old folding screen and the wall.

"Go back to sleep, you beast," he spat, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

A few seconds later Nekozawa returned to his desk with an empty vial in hand, and he went back to work. As he continued with his tasks, the pressure of his headache was steadily increasing, and over time it would become more difficult for him to concentrate. But, determined to finish as much restocking as possible, before supper, Nekozawa consumed a few drops of a nearby blue elixir and pushed on.

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Meanwhile, in the astral plane...

Dream Haruhi snoozed peacefully with an arm draped across her lover's chest, and Bereznoff's breathing was short, shallow, and labored. His heart was pounding as adrenaline-induced panic coursed through his veins. He was involuntarily fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable, and yet the brunette beside him slept on as if nothing was wrong. Try as he might, he couldn't make himself move.

'What...who...why...?' he thought, sporadically. Images of fiery demons with burnt, coal eyes flitted about, filling every corner of his mind. 'What is happening to me? Am I...going to die? Am I already dying? What is death for something like me? Why am I so scared? What am I afraid of?'

Bereznoff was old - truly, crudely ancient. So much so, that he had never considered a history that existed before he did. He was a consciousness born without a body, but once he learned how to latch onto one, he didn't want to let it go. If one host died, he could inhabit a new body with just a few sweet whispers and promises of good intentions. When he merged with Nekozawa he had no idea what the little boy would be capable of. Indeed, it was a pleasant surprise.

Bereznoff had experienced many emotions and obstacles across his continued existence on Earth, but this was the first time he had been approached by anything that might be on the same level as him. It made him wonder what other creatures were out there, hiding in plain sight. Maybe he had already met them, and just didn't notice.

'What do they want me to do? Why now?'

Bereznoff couldn't fathom what those creatures meant when they said his heart would be weighed. Instead of figuring it out, he just recycled the endless questions looping through his mind. Dream Haruhi stirred.

"What's troubling you, my love?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Bereznoff, startled, ceased all of his bodily ticks and remained silent.

"Umehito?" asked Dream Haruhi.

Bereznoff scoffed as his eyes met hers.

"Oh...Bereznoff?"

As soon as the name left her lips, the specter felt as if his heart had been pierced. He turned away from her.

"Look at me."

Haruhi propped herself into a sitting position and cupped her palms around his cheeks, forcing him to face her.

"What ails you?"

Confused by her persistence, Bereznoff finally found his voice.

"Why do you care?" he spat.

Dream Haruhi frowned. "Why would I not?"

"Don't say things that you don't mean."

Haruhi looked hurt, but Bereznoff did not have time to dwell on the emotions of a figment of his host's imagination. He grabbed her wrists and forcibly removed her hands from his face. Angry, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, but before he could find balance and stand, Dream Haruhi hurriedly wrapped her arms around his torso in a tight grip and held his back to her chest.

"Don't tell me what I do or don't mean," she snapped. She opened the palm of her dominant hand and slapped it over the center of his chest. "This heart belongs to you; this heart belongs to Umehito; this is a heart I love." Bereznoff felt her take a shaky breath. "We worked hard to get here," she whispered, "I will not allow you to throw it all away."

Bereznoff was just getting more irritated and upset with each passing second. This was the last place he wanted to be, right now, and she was the last person he wanted to see or be made aware of. Just when he was about to wrench her arms from him or make another snide comment, Dream Haruhi pressed herself closer and began delivering little licks up and down the side of his neck. She slid her hands up and down his back and shoulders, squeezing and rubbing certain areas to try and relax him. Although Bereznoff was keen on grabbing the nearest blunt object to club her with, he had to admit that the mini massage was easing some of tension he's harbored since before entering her sphere. So, keeping his mouth shut, he let Dream Haruhi continue her ministrations, finding a brief moment of relief where his mind was swiped clean and all he had to do was exist, and nothing else.

His body and mind had calmed down in such a short span of time that he almost forgot who and where he was, for a moment. However, this peace of mind did not last long.

Here was but one version of Haruhi, a woman for whom he had cultivated such loathing, suckling on his neck behind him, her own breathing getting deeper and slower. Her skin was getting warmer and tingling with arousal. She moved upward and tenderly ran her fingers through his hair, playing with different locks and enjoying their soft, silky feel. Before Bereznoff realized it, she had guided him to lay on his back, and rolled over top of him, lifting the hem of her slip above her thighs as she did so. Her lips found his, again, and their tongues engaged in battle. Without warning, she connected her exposed sex to his clothed lap, and she rolled her hips back and forth over his pelvis until she felt him start to perk up. Breaking their heated kiss, Haruhi sat up and continued her bumping and grinding rhythm. Her breathing became irregular, and her cheeks were flushed with a soft rose color. High-pitched moans escaped from her throat. Bereznoff was suddenly in awe of her. He listened to her soft whimpers and felt her thighs clamp and her abdomen tremble as she rode out her first orgasm.

When she was finished, Haruhi tugged the rest of her slip upward and peeled it off. Indeed, this Haruhi was older and much more developed than the slender girl he was used to. Keeping eye contact, Haruhi guided one of his hands and invited him to explore her slick warmth. Bereznoff was taken aback by her newfound boldness, and halfway toward accepting her invitation he stopped himself.

'You don't control me, whore,' he seethed, though no words left his mouth. With some effort, Bereznoff choked back his blind lust in an attempt to regain control of the situation.

Dream Haruhi didn't seem aware of his sudden change in mood, so when Bereznoff didn't respond to her, she only smiled sweetly and shifted her weight to make quick work of dismantling the barrier that shielded her from his manhood. He saw her lick her lips and grin, observing his trousers with anticipation and hunger. Watching her through all of this, Bereznoff noticed a wizened glint behind Haruhi's eyes that revealed a wealth of experience he hadn't known was there. The Haruhi before him was grown up and confident, and if he were a lesser being he would have taken the time to appreciate the fullness of her body, more.

'It doesn't matter,' he thought, 'You're not real.'

Every expression that Dream Haruhi presented him with was warm and genuine. It was sensuality tied with a feeling of unconditional love. In this moment, Bereznoff felt like he could do no wrong in her eyes.

And he hated it.

After Dream Haruhi loosened his trousers, but before her hand could disappear beneath them, Bereznoff smacked her hands away and struck her across the face.

"Move, harpy, before I gut you and toss your tainted corpse to the crows," he barked.

Time stopped, for a moment, and Bereznoff glared heatedly, savoring in the feeling of dominance and superiority, just waiting and daring this Haruhi to make any move other than what he commanded of her. Dream Haruhi slowly turned her head back around and frowned at him. Only the woman on his lap wasn't Haruhi, anymore, and what he saw almost made him piss himself. Staring back into his yellow orbs were solid black voids. Her skin was a gray, purplish tinge, and streaks of blood trickled from the corners of her eyes. Haruhi, or whatever this beast now was, wrapped a taloned grip around his fragile throat. She squeezed and steadily increased the pressure on his trachea until she heard him gurgle. His eyes bulged. Even if it was merely an astral projection, Bereznoff's body was not immune to the sensations of pain. He struggled to breathe. The beast's body grew heavier atop his, and he could feel himself sinking into the bed beneath her massive weight. He feared he would either be crushed or drown within the sheets - whichever release came first.

The creature's grip on his throat went slack, and she lowered her head beside his to whisper tenderly in his ear.

"YoUr hEarT wiLL bE deLiCIoUs." Her voice was thick, like bitter honey.

Bereznoff stilled in fear, and the she-demon gave a booming cackle. The dreamscape around him started morphing and spiraling out of control. The only object of clarity in his field of vision was the demon, and he felt himself continue his crushing descent through the bedcovers. The journey felt like an eternity.

"wE sHaLL mEet, aGaiN..."

The last thing that Bereznoff saw before the blackness devoured him was Dream Haruhi's naked form sidled up next to the she-devil, arms casually wrapped around her collar bone like they were old friends. Side-by-side, they almost looked like twins. Dream Haruhi looked upon Bereznoff, not with concern, but with bland curiosity. Bereznoff wanted to seethe and spit and claw in her direction, but the constriction around his lungs didn't permit such a luxury. His heart stopped beating, and he eventually succumbed to the nothingness.

Bereznoff wasn't sure how long his torment in the abyss had lasted, but when he finally awoke from it he was lying face-down in a puddle of saliva on the illuminated pathway of the dreamscape, far away from any spheres. Sweat dripped from every pore, and his muscles felt heavy and stiff. He was hyperventilating.

'Am I going mad?'

Bereznoff took as deep a breath as his quivering body would allow, and in his state of frustration and pain he sobbed while weakly banging his fists on the translucent bricks.

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Now empty of tears and remorse, Haruhi felt oddly refreshed. It wasn't often that she would have a panic attack, but when they hit, they hit hard. She took another deep breath and forced herself to stand up.

'From here on out, I will have a better attitude,' she thought, 'I will live for the present and the future.'

As she wondered how long she stayed outside, Haruhi dragged herself to the barn to splash water on her face and hopefully hide any evidence that she'd been crying. She'd hate for Nekozawa to bombard her with questions, and she wasn't in the mood for him to act overly sweet in trying to lift her spirits. Glancing toward the shed that she saw him enter, earlier, she noted that the door was still shut, but the usual accompanying padlock was missing, which meant Nekozawa was still inside. Haruhi breathed a sigh of relief, and picked up her chores where she left off. If she was diligent, there would be time for both a bath and some studying before dinner. Haruhi ran a hand through her hair, frowning at the many knots and tangles her fingers caught. She shuddered.

'I don't know how I got along without bathing every day, but after living, here, I can't stand the thought of it.'

It wasn't long after that, that Haruhi found herself towel-drying her hair and wearing her favorite cotton nightgown. She donned wooly socks to keep the approaching autumn chill from biting her feet, and then daubed on some perfume she found on the top shelf. She wasn't sure what it was made of, but the smell was nice and she liked it. Vegetable stew was simmering on the stove, and while it was cooking Haruhi decided to get even more cozy by grabbing a small quilt from her bed and perusing Nekozawa's library for something new to read. A few of the titles she picked up were: Principle Theories and Methodologies of Meditation and Magick; Sprites, Faeries, and Phantoms of the Northwestern Territories; Mental Applications for Rudimentary Incantations, and Experimental Applications of Local Flora and Fauna.

Haruhi cracked open this last book, and flipped through, scribbling some random notes in a blank journal that Nekozawa had made for her. From what she understood, Nekozawa's swamp was a unique feature compared to those of the surrounding lands. The concentration of magical energy in his home brought with it warmer temperatures, year-round, so while they would still have to endure winter's cold, they wouldn't be subjected to as much snow as everyone else. Then, when Spring did come, the swamp also protected them from flooding that came from the more mountainous areas. The swamp is also where their well-water came from, and what allowed Haruhi to take as many baths as she liked. She thumbed through the text and read up on some of the different plants that helped keep their water clean.

Suddenly, Haruhi stilled her quill and looked around her. She was warm. There was a roof over her head, books to read, an education to pursue, food to cook, and a bed to sleep in. And as heavily as Nekozawa was hinting that he wanted her, he never forced her to lay with him as some sort of compensation for all of the things he had given her.

'Not yet, anyway.'

Haruhi frowned and rolled over on her back. She was still too scared to actually go through with it, but she was also less scared of the prospect than when she first came here.

'I need to stop thinking like that. I'll lose my sanity if I don't.'

It didn't stop her from wondering what it would be like, though; to have Nekozawa please her. Her fingers had almost reached the hem of her nightgown when the subject of interest came barreling through the cabin.

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Nekozawa couldn't stave off Bereznoff's urgency, any longer. The dull headache from that morning had progressed into a full blown migraine, and it was near impossible to focus. It was as if his specter was clawing through his skull from the inside, trying to force his way out. Nekozawa could feel it: the desperation, the panic, the fear, the anger. He could feel his conscience slipping through the cracks. This couldn't wait. He needed Haruhi.

Fumbling, he managed to lock the shed behind him and made a beeline for the cabin. He kicked off his boots in the kitchen and tripped over them, knocking the side of his head into the door frame. He was a split second away from grabbing the hot stove to catch his fall. Cursing, Nekozawa regained his balance and continued to stomp and stagger until he found Haruhi in the living room, lying on her back next to a pile of books and staring at him, surprised and red-cheeked.

"I, um -," she began to say, but then cut herself off as she recognized the situation unfolding in front of her. She leapt to her feet without further instruction.

Abruptly, Nekozawa grabbed her wrist and yanked her along, almost dragging her behind him as he went into their bedroom. Once there he let her go and started tearing through his wardrobe.

"My robes!" he exclaimed, " Help me, girl!"

Haruhi got the memo and unapologetically shoved Nekozawa out of the way while she retrieved the ritual garments from one of his trunks. Without a moment to lose, Haruhi stripped Nekozawa of his tunic and trousers, and replaced them with the red and cream garb that he wore each time he summoned Bereznoff.

'It's a little early for a summoning, isn't it? It feels like it hasn't been that long since the last one,' she wondered.

Nekozawa was sweating profusely amidst his shallow breathing and clammy skin. He showed little more life than a rag doll as Haruhi struggled to dress him, finally succumbing to the stress. She couldn't recall ever seeing Nekozawa being this bad off before a ritual, and while that worried her she knew there would be time, later, to question him about it.

"You have to make your own protection circle," he wheezed.

"I've got it," said Haruhi. And that was true. A couple of months ago she taught herself the protection spell, and it was one of the few spells she had mastered. Despite this, Nekozawa always insisted on casting it, for her, when necessary. There would be enough time to get herself situated for the night; or, there would be if Nekozawa would stop dragging his feet.

Summoning all of her strength, Haruhi hoisted her master to his feet and clamped his arm around her shoulders for support. She then dragged him as fast as her physique would allow and unceremoniously dumped him into his mirrored room. She dipped her fingers in the gap of the doorway and pulled the hidden sliding door to shut him in. With that finished, she jogged to her spot in the living room, scooped up a candle and a couple of books, and then darted to the kitchen to grab a bag of pixie salt. After delivering these items to her bed, she decided there was enough time to pee and ran outside to take care of business. Finally, she untucked her sheets for her impromptu bedtime and pulled opened the drawstring on the bag of pixie salt. She poured the glistening crystals on the floor around her, repeating the familiar incantation she always heard Nekozawa chanting whenever he tucked her in. The salt circled glowed for a brief moment, a thin layer of fog traveling upward, encasing her space, and then it all vanished. She breathed a sigh of relief, and then cursed when she realized she hadn't grabbed anything to eat.

'Oh, well. Hopefully tonight will go by quickly.' Her stomach growled and she groaned. 'That stew would have been amazing.' Concentrating her energy, she whispered a spell that extinguished the fire in the stove. To take her mind off her empty stomach, she lit her bedside candle and tried to focus on her books.

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Back in the mirrored ritual room, Nekozawa was waging a war within himself. Without knowing if Haruhi was fully out of harm's way, he gave in to the pain and lost all sense of himself. His breaths were sharp as his body convulsed and contorted without his permission. A fresh layer of sweat encased his skin and drenched his scalp. He opened his mouth to scream, but only a thick, mucous-filled gurgle took its place.

Suddenly, his eyes rolled back and he stopped moving. Nekozawa's form fell limp, and his lungs depressed as all the breath left his body. 1...2...3...Nekozawa forcibly inhaled, gasping, as if he was given new life. It would be another moment before Nekozawa's breathing slowed and adjusted. His sore muscles relaxed and, reluctantly, he pushed himself up and looked into one of the mirrors. Disheveled hair, crooked clothes, and a jaundiced gaze stared back.

Bereznoff scoffed at Nekozawa's wrinkled attire and shrugged off his half-buttoned top. He tossed it on the floor behind him. He stretched his limbs and from the corner of the room he retrieved one of Nekozawa's pre-lit candles, the blue flame dancing brightly above his skin. Holding the candle up for a better look at himself in the mirrored walls, Bereznoff raised his free hand and touched his reflection. He gave an empty, dull chuckle and grumbled, "We look like shit."

Bereznoff took his time walking toward the exit. He placed a palm on the surface of the door, and felt himself hesitate as if he was almost scared to find out that he only imagined his and Nekozawa's ritual taking place. The sound of wood rubbing against wood as he slid the door open was all he could hear. A blank wall was all that met him on the other side - no monsters or demons. He breathed a sigh of relief and felt as if a mountain was lifted from his chest.

With each anxious footstep, Bereznoff made his way into main living room, then the kitchen, and finally outside. The sun hadn't set, yet, and he stared at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds with appreciation. The smell of hot soup that Haruhi abandoned was tempting him to come back inside, but he could reheat it, later. Bereznoff couldn't remember the last time he walked in actual sunlight. So, shoeless and shirtless, he strolled around the property until the stars were visible. The feeling of grass and dirt between his toes was euphoric. He even found the eggy smell around the swamp alluring, and was inclined to call out one of the nymphs that lived there, but eventually decided against it.

The silence was beautiful.

Upon returning to the cabin, Bereznoff caught a whiff of himself and decided to take a bath. Lowering himself into the tub, he savored the feeling of the hot water more than the service of cleanliness it provided. It was nice to feel something real. He scrubbed every inch of his body, and sampled every bottle of soap and oil within his reach. He left the bath smelling like an odd mixture of lemons and peppermint, but he didn't care. After drying himself he slipped on some trousers and a tunic that were folded in a basket, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a discarded apron. He felt his stomach sour and kicked it out of sight. He didn't want to think about her right now.

'Insignificant cunt,' he thought, but it didn't deter him from sneaking a glance in the direction of the bedroom as he passed by.

Entering the kitchen, Bereznoff lit a fire on the stove to reheat the soup like he promised himself he would. While it simmered he sifted through the cabinets until he found a cask of Nekozawa's prized ale. He poured some into a mug and drank deeply until dinner was ready. He ate heartily, and then drank some more. When the cask ran dry, he grumbled and refilled it with water. Taking his mug and cask to the living area, he lit a fire and moved the rocking chair to sit in front of it. He stared into the flames and took a moment to collect his thoughts.

Without meaning to, he imagined Haruhi darning socks beside him.

'Stupid Umehito, filling my head with such filthiness.'

He lifted a hand to his throat, recalling the memory of being choked by her hellish doppelganger.

'Is she supposed to play a role in my prophecy? Is it really my prophecy? Was it a prophecy, at all? Am I imagining things? Is Umehito trying to scare me into a corner? Why? Why me? Why now?'

The longer he stared into the blaze, the more he freaked himself out. A fiery face formed on the flame-licked logs and bore its gaze through his skull. Bereznoff panicked.

A loud crash, followed by a clang and the splashing of water were what yanked Haruhi from her nearly slumbering state. In the living room she heard Bereznoff yelling.

"GET OUT! LEAVE ME ALONE!" His yells suddenly shifted into a begging whimper, "What do you want from me?" His frustrated sobs permeated through the newly tense air. Startled, Haruhi held her breath and listened carefully for any other outbursts. There were none. The only sounds she could hear were Bereznoff's muffled tears, and they were soft enough to break her heart.

Coming to a reckless decision, Haruhi timidly looped a finger through her candle holder and let the pale orange glow guide her as she, for the first time during one of Bereznoff's visits, left the safety of her protection circle. Cautiously, she tiptoed into the living room. The first thing she noticed was the dying embers and wisps of smoke in the fireplace. Inside was an overturned cask, and there were puddles of water accumulating on the floor. She followed the sound of Bereznoff's sobs. He was backed into the corner farthest from the fireplace, scrunched up with knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his shins, and his face buried in the center. The aroma of ale became more apparent the closer she got to him. Her insides were in knots and her stomach flipped as her feet unconsciously moved toward the huddled figure. She didn't know why she was doing this; her body just moved on its own. Bereznoff sensed her and threw a book toward her face. She put up an arm to block it.

"Go away!" he yelled, "You're not real!"

Confused and at a loss for words, Haruhi blew out her candle to avoid frightening him, further, and navigated the mess on the floor to sit beside him. Without warning him, she grabbed Bereznoff and cradled his head to her chest. Instead of protesting or attacking her, again, he let down his fragile barrier, wrapped his arms around her, and clung to her figure for dear life as he openly bawled on her. Haruhi pushed aside her shock at his display and opted to be strong for him, holding back her own breaching tears. She patted his hair and rubbed his back until he had exhausted himself. Whatever it was that she had expected Bereznoff to do when she approached him, it certainly wasn't this.

'Has he been hurting like this, every time?' she wondered. Haruhi felt more guilty with every tremor she felt emanate from his body.

'How can I make your pain go away?' All she could do was hug him tighter to let him know she was there.

Once Bereznoff's eyes had run dry and voice short of hoarse, he finally let go of Haruhi and bore through her with dejected eyes.

"What do you want from me?" he pleaded.

"N-nothing," she stammered, "I don't want anything from you."

Bereznoff's eyes glazed over as he stared at her for a moment longer. Then he rolled over and slid down so that he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. For a while, they sat in silence in the dark. Then, without moving too much, Haruhi reached over and grabbed her quilt from earlier, only pausing to check if Bereznoff had moved. From what she could tell, he hadn't. She opened the quilt, and before she could second-guess herself she kneeled and laid it overtop of Bereznoff. He remained unmoving and mute, and that, alone, unsettled her. Haruhi opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. She stood and turned to walk away from him to go to her own bed.

"Stay."

Haruhi jumped.

"What?" She said, almost whispering.

"Stay with me," said Bereznoff. Through the shadows, Haruhi saw him lifting the quilt, gesturing her to lay beside him.

"Is that…a good idea?" she asked. Haruhi couldn't comprehend what was happening, right now.

"Please? Chase my demons away."

"…ok," Haruhi finally said, stunned by his request. "Let...let me bring you a pillow?"

"Alright," said Bereznoff. His voice was weak and pitiful, and not a word more was spoken between them.

Haruhi's heart was pounding, and her mind was buzzing with endless questions and curiosities. Heavy feet weighed her down as she entered their bedroom. She grabbed two pillows - one for Bereznoff, and one for her. She could hear the blood rushing through her veins. Eyes darting around in a frenzy, they landed on her trunk. As quietly as she could, she undid the latch and filtered through her clothing until she could reach the bottom. There, she retrieved a small knife Nekozawa had given her during one of their sparring sessions. She lifted the sheath a quarter of the way to cast a glance at the silver blade underneath, and then just as quickly she sheathed it and delicately slid the weapon into her pillowcase. She closed the top of her trunk and returned to Bereznoff on tip-toes.

'What am I doing?! What am I doing?! What am I doing?!'

He was just as she had left him, motionless and staring hopelessly at the ceiling. She swallowed as she knelt beside him and gingerly lifted his head to slide his pillow underneath. She positioned her own pillow not too close to his, and reluctantly slid under the covers with him; again, not too close. She shivered, and with that made herself as comfortable as she possibly could in this situation. Following suit, she joined him in staring off into space until her own thoughts settled and she fell asleep.

It was sunny and breezy atop the grassy hill where Haruhi was standing. She was wearing her favorite green dress and looking down on a city she had never seen before. The roads were clean and circled the different buildings in satisfying curves. She could see a bustling marketplaces and ladies in fine dresses; gentlemen rode horses and children screamed as they chased one another. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the tart smell of lemons growing on the tree behind her. Lost in the atmosphere she jumped when a voice came from behind her.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" it said.

Nekozawa was sitting on the knoll behind her, smiling.

"It is," agreed Haruhi.

"I've been wanting to take you, here, for a long time, now," said Nekozawa.

"Have you?"

"Aye."

Haruhi returned her attention to the city, below. A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and Nekozawa rested his chin on her shoulder.

"We are going to make so many memories, here," he said.

"What kinds of memories?"

Nekozawa grinned mischievously.

"We'll start with this one."

Haruhi fell to the ground, laughing as Nekozawa tickled her. He rolled her over and put his weight on top. Their eyes met and the smiles faded, but the feelings of joy did not falter. Time slowed as Nekozawa lowered his face to hers. The closer he got, though, the heavier he felt. Haruhi coughed.

"You're hurting me," she wheezed.

But he came closer still, and the excitement of a kiss turned into suffocation and begging for air.

Haruhi awoke to Bereznoff on top of her, his weight bearing down on her chest, holding her own knife to her throat. Alert and very much awake, now, Haruhi's frightened eyes locked with Bereznoff's wide, twitchy gaze.

"I've only ever dreamed of touching you," he whispered, "Every slice, every penetration, every torture…has been upon splinters of astral projections...until now. For a moment, I thought I was back home, and you were just another figment - another version of an unattainable fantasy. Looking at your face after you fell asleep, I thought about giving in and being sweet with you - pulling you close and holding you as if you were my anchor on this treacherous plane of existence. I was almost at peace with myself, and then I found this," he shook the knife slightly, "and I remembered this world was real."

"And now," Haruhi gulped, "what will you do?"

Bereznoff chuckled.

"That's the thing," he said, "I'm caught between wanting to cut your throat or shred your gown. I can't decide which face I'd like to see, more, when you lose the light from your eyes." He lightly caressed her cheek with the flat side of the blade.

As Bereznoff spoke, Haruhi did her best to maintain composure and not make any sudden movements. She slowed her breathing and stared at Bereznoff's unhinged gaze as calmly as she could manage.

"You're speaking as if you don't expect me to fight back."

"Oh?" He picked up his left elbow and slammed it down above her shoulder, shoving his forearm into her throat as he did do. Haruhi coughed and Bereznoff's eyes narrowed.

"I'd love to see what kind of fight you can put up from down there."

Thinking on the fly, Haruhi closed her eyes to help take her mind off of her immediate predicament, and then focused her energy like she had practiced. She emptied her mind and expanded her aura to feel the area around her. Every wick of every candle was suddenly within reach. She rerouted her circulating energy so that it would exit her body with a spell in a single breath and word. Her eyes popped open.

"Stearinlys."

Simultaneously, all of her candles erupted with a fierce orange blaze before settling down into their usual flickers. The expulsion of light was enough to catch Bereznoff off guard, and he popped up from his position and stumbled backward, falling on his rear. He stared at Haruhi with a mixture of surprise and fear. The arrogance melted from his face when she sat up to face him.

"I'm not the same girl I was when I came here. I'm a wizard's apprentice, and I've been practicing," she said confidently. "I'm still learning, but I will not let you-"

"Put them out!" Bereznoff screeched.

"What-"

"PUT THEM OUT!"

In haste, he flung the knife toward her head. She dodged just in time and heard the 'tac' as the blade lodged itself into the wooden wall behind her. He curled into a ball and started hyperventilating, "I-I-I d-don't-t want t-t-to look a-at them. D-don't m-m-make me…" he trailed of into gibberish while Haruhi tried to analyze the situation.

"Slukke."

And with that spell, Haruhi extinguished her candles. Bereznoff was cradled on the floor with his hands over his ears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered over and over.

Haruhi saw an opportunity to run and she took it. Deftly, she leapt onto her bed, reapplied more pixie salt around her, and quickly repeated the protection incantation. She felt safe, again, albeit a little guilty for not stopping to comfort Bereznoff, but it was hard to care about the wellbeing of someone who was so readily going to cut you. Still, she couldn't deny this was an unusual situation, and she was more curious than angry. Haruhi sat and listened until Bereznoff's pleas of remorse died down completely.

Moments later, Bereznoff entered their bedroom wrapped in the quilt she gave him. His eyes were listless, and he stopped to stare at Haruhi's circle of salt. He understood she was untouchable, again. There was a moment of silence before Haruhi spoke up.

"Are you...alright?" she asked.

Bereznoff didn't reply, right away; instead, he laid down on Nekozawa's bed, facing her. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"Since you came here, I've only ever dreamed of killing you or fucking you; or, killing you and then fucking your corpse...but do you know what He dreams of?"

"Where is this coming from? What happened, out there?" asked Haruhi, but Bereznoff paid her no mind.

"He dreams of a quiet life...children...marriage...a future...all with you. And like a fool I can see you giving it to him before you find out who he really is...and was...and will always be. He's not kissing you just because he likes you."

"I don't understand-"

"But you will. And when that time comes, both of you need to have a long talk and figure out what it is that you really want from one another."

Haruhi was speechless. Bereznoff's attitude and demeanor, tonight, were sporadic and unpredictable. Granted, it was more of him than she'd ever seen, before.

"Is it really your place to be saying things, like that?" She crossed her arms and bit her bottom lip. This entire evening has just been an uncomfortable exchange.

"More than you know." His voice was like venom, again.

'How many mood swings can you have?!' she thought, frustrated. The sound of his voice was grating on her nerves, now. Just earlier he was like a crying infant throwing a tantrum and clinging to his mother. Then he was placid and grown-up, calmly asking her to share the floor with him and exchange body heat, nothing more. Later, he became hostile, and then reverted to his infant stage. Now, he was placid, again. If the pattern continued she suspected he would advance to more hostility, soon.

Haruhi observed the tired man in front of her, and it then hit her how little she actually knew about him. She never talked to Bereznoff after their first official encounter, and Nekozawa certainly didn't offer up any more information than he felt was necessary. Any interactions between her and his specter were highly discouraged, and she was threatened with punishment whenever she alluded to learning more about him.

"Then, do you...I mean...what do you want?" she inquired.

Through the darkness, bloodshot eyes stared long and hard at her, so much so that she started to feel self-conscious and felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

"Hurry and grow up, will you?" His voice suddenly sounded tired and defeated.

"What…?"

Then, without skipping a beat, Bereznoff's eyes closed and he rolled over to fall asleep with his back to her. She wasn't sure how to respond, so she didn't. Haruhi pulled her own blanket up to her chin and looked at the ceiling while she tried to process all the information Bereznoff presented her with. It wasn't much to go on, right now, but if she was careful then she might be able to weasel some more intel out of Nekozawa without coming off as too suspicious. Or, if that failed, she could try talking to Bereznoff, again, during the next ritual. It wasn't easy, but Haruhi finally found herself sound asleep.

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The next morning, at the Ouran castle...

With some effort, Kaoru finally dragged his sluggish body out of bed. Renge was already gone when he awoke, but that was expected. He inhaled her sweet scent on his pillow, once more.

'That woman will be the death of me,' he whimsically thought.

Kaoru splashed water on his face and got dressed. He finished packing his bags, picked up his staff, and on the way out the door he pondered if he should tell Hikaru where he was going. They were still on tense terms from the day before, but he knew his brother would worry endlessly if he just up and vanished. Darting back into his quarters at the last second, Kaoru jotted a quick note and asked the woman changing his sheets to slip it under Hikaru's door, for him. Satisfied, Kaoru gathered his belongings, once more, and ventured outside to meet Kyoya.

Upon arriving at the stables, Kaoru noticed three saddled horses standing side-by-side, next to Kyoya. He slowed his approach and looked at his friend with a quizzical expression.

"Surely you didn't expect us to go without an escort?" said Kyoya, "I never travel without a knight."

Kaoru's heart skipped a beat, then sank.

"Don't worry," said Kyoya, "It's not Hikaru."

"I wasn't worried," said Kaoru, a smidge too quickly.

As if on cue, a hulking form fastening a sword to his hip emerged from the stables.

"Ready?" he said, simply.

"Long time, no see, Mori," greeted Kaoru.

"Not long enough," spat Mori, glaring daggers. Without another word toward the wizard, the silent giant walked toward Kyoya to help him mount his horse.

"Are you STILL upset about that?!" exclaimed Kaoru. Mori growled and delivered another death glare that his wizard friend simply brushed aside.

The that that Kaoru was referring to was an incident that occurred a couple of months ago when Mori had asked him for a potion to help him sleep at night.

Unfortunately, the wrong concoction was transferred and instead of a peaceful sleep Mori was left with a raging hard-on for two days straight.

"Pfft, you act like I almost killed you," muttered Kaoru.

"I had to guard the Queen's chambers, that day! Do you know how embarrassing that was? I had to stand at attention like everything was normal! If the king saw me he could have ordered me castrated!"

"Oh, that reminds me, Mori," interjected Kyoya, "Queen Anne arranged a meeting between you and the Salt Duchess' daughter when their family comes ashore with Tamaki's bride."

Mori pointed at Kyoya and continued yelling at Kaoru.

"And ever since that incident, Her Grace has been putting me up as a suitor for every noble girl between here and Potidaea!"

"I still don't see what the problem is," said Kaoru, "If a queen ever praised my legendary cock, I wouldn't let my friends hear the end of it. I also wouldn't have let those noble girls leave without a sample."

Mori grumbled.

"You just don't get it," He said, "I can't believe you and Hikaru are twins - you're nothing alike."

"Now, now, children," interjected Kyoya, "We've got a long journey ahead of us so let's play nice, hm?"

"Of course, my Lord," said Mori.

"Fine, whatever," said Kaoru.

Once they were all mounted on their steeds, Kyoya led them out of the castle grounds and toward the village where their plea for help originated.

~0~

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Naraku's Phoenix:I'M BACK! Well, sort of. Here's a breakdown of current events for all interested parties:

It's not officially official, yet, but I'm planning on and working to graduate college with my second degree in May. There were some administrative and financial issues at play that have since forced me to take on a heavier workload. I'm also working a part-time job, preparing for my next Artist Alley, and I've been helping care for my disabled mother who is getting ready for another major surgery in January. I have to start applying for full-time jobs, again, in the next couple of months, and that alone is both scary and exciting. I feel like I'm finally getting my life together.

So, I can't say with any certainty when the next chapter will be released. I'm also planning on rewriting chapters 1-18 before I go too much further, which were all the chapters I had written in 2008 - 2009. I WILL NOT START REPLACING CHAPTERS UNTIL ALL OF THEM ARE RE-WRITTEN. Nothing major will change; I just need to clean up some inconsistencies I've written myself into, and I want to make the foundation for future events more stable. Also, I feel bad for not doing this after my last update, but if you review and you have an account I WILL reply to you. I will also reply to any and all private messages, and as fellow writers I may message you requesting help to brainstorm ideas as they unfold. I am trying to keep all my periodic updates on Tumblr (see my profile) so you all know I've not completely vanished or forgotten about you.

My current musical muse is the band Mother Mother, and their tunes heavily influenced my notes on Nekozawa's and Bereznoff's relationship and personalities. I highly recommend listening to "Bit by Bit," first, followed by any other song from their album, "The Sticks," if you want to get a better feel for the mood I'm setting up for these characters. Jump around their other albums, too, and you should be on the same wavelength as me. Also, please let me know if there are any songs that you think of when reading my story or are reminiscent of this universe I've created. I would love to listen to them for more inspiration.

Now for the fun part, I hope. At the end of your reviews, please tell me your predictions and what sorts of scenes/character interactions you'd like to see in the future. I'm not planning to implement everyone's suggestions, but knowing them can help me structure chapters, later on, and they can also help generate more ideas. I've got a fairly stable story structure so far, to a point where I kind of know what I want the ending to be, and I've been writing random scenes just to get something down and see where it takes me, if anywhere.

Thank you to all my readers. If it weren't for you I wouldn't push myself as hard as I am to put my work, out there. I wouldn't work as hard to improve my writing skills. This may be fan fiction, but this is also a story that I want to tell. My story. I have friends who make fan films, and at last month's convention they answered a question that was, "Why do it? Why not put effort into something original?" Their answer, to sum,...fan works allow us to borrow characters or a universe so that we can put more focus and energy into stories that are completely our own; fan works allow us to make connections with strangers - strangers who will give our work the time of day because they are also fans; fan works give us the freedom to experiment. The stories we write aren't any less important than the works we borrow from.

See you at the next update.