A/N: I do not own or profit in any way from what Kazue Kato has created.

"'Cover the underground floors'." Shiro's muttering was inaudible under the sound of his booted feet pounding the floor. "There's nothing in the blasted underground floors, jerkface…" Akihiro had sent him down there for that very reason, he was sure of it. Yaonaru Akihiro, whom sadistic gods had chosen to lead this mission.

Pff, gods. That would be Samael. Wasn't that his name, after all?

"Send the Dragoon to the empty wards." Shiro threw open another door to another examination room, already knowing it would be empty. "And the Doctor into the fray." Yep, empty. As all the others had been. "Just 'cause he's your dear little brother. Asshat."

The hospital was temporarily closed for issues with mold: mold with very long fingers and very sharp fish-teeth, and an unfortunate penchant for sabotaging everything mechanical. Gremlins were easy targets. They settled, made a mess, were discovered, and were eliminated. Typical demons, as far as anyone was concerned. Anyone could deal with typical demons.

It was when demons started acting outside that pattern that you might want to start worrying.

Etymology was a small course included in exorcism history. It was a messy business, and it had no application whatsoever unless you met a Lord of Gehenna (in which case you would be more interested in running than in discussing the details of his name), and for those reasons only the essentials of demon etymology were taught. If you wanted the etymology of Samael, you had to go way back. Shiro had come across it during his digging, and remembered it only because it had confused him as much as it had confused the authors of those old books. Confusion was probably the reason it had been omitted in later editions: how do you explain that a demon bears the name of God?

Let alone one who is Satan's son.

And who sides with humans.

Not your typical demon.

Shiro snapped out of his thoughts and back to the mission. He had reached his third staircase, which meant he had covered one third of the basement level. The most advanced equipment down here were machines that rotated blood samples: the gremlins would be more interested in the fancier stuff, like the tomographs on floor five.

He slowed his pace, and his body settled into firing stance on autopilot: back straight, legs apart, gun aimed at the ground between his feet. Why was he stopping…? There were still two thirds left of useless recon before he could go up that staircase and do some good…

Samael was successful because he didn't act like your typical demon.

Shiro glanced again at the staircase, a small smile forming on his lips. Maybe he shouldn't act like your typical exorcist, then.

This was more like it.

Shiro was still catching his breath after jogging up the fourteen flights of stairs when he put a silver-coated blessed bullet in the first gremlin – an ugly little thing with spider leg-fingers and a crinkly hide that looked like dried mud. He peered around every corner, not wanting to be taken by surprise but also not wanting to take some other exorcist by surprise: mix humans with adrenaline and firearms and things can go very bad.

It would be wrong to say that going on a mission was relaxing… Well, then Shiro was wrong through and through, because he did relax. Mentally. The labyrinthine corridors of the hospital drew his attention from Shizuku, Samael and dead classmates, and the low hum of electricity and the distant report of gunfire tuned his ears to the world outside his head. It made sense, in a way: escape your inner demons by hunting the ones outside.

Then again, you can encounter things worse than demons.

Shiro suppressed a groan when he spotted Kita around the next corner. The dick looked okay – a bit warm and out of breath, but other than that…

Other than… that little girl in hospital-clothing that he held by the hand…

"Oi, Kita-san." Shiro thought it best to announce he was there before he stepped clear of the corner. "Let go of that girl."

The girl in question jumped with fright and hid behind Kita's legs. She couldn't be more than five, and yet… Shiro couldn't explain what it was. Rather, the more he tried to put his finger on what it was that felt off, and where that feeling came from, the harder did it become to say anything about it. All he knew was that something about that girl was wrong.

"You? Shouldn't you be downstairs?" Kita looked as happy as Shiro about their encounter.

"Figured I'd do more good here, and I was right. That girl's not human", he retorted. The muzzle of his gun already pointed at the creature, whatever it was.

"Lower that gun. She's not a demon – I doused her in holy water."

"Then what is she?" Shiro didn't lower his gun. "Why's she here? The hospital is vacated."

The girl's face had crumpled up by the minute, and with Shiro's harsh questioning she began to cry, like any human girl would've done in this situation. Maybe he was wrong? She looked human, and he couldn't imagine how a girl five years old could have become wicked enough for a demon to possess her, but that persistent feeling…

"Would you stop pointing a gun at a little girl, you imbecile? She said she was left behin-" Kita broke off and coughed violently into the crook of his arm. Too out of breath to be arrogant? How fast could he have been running with that little critter in tow?

That little critter, who wasn't even panting…

"She's not a demon: she's dead." Shiro strode closer, warily, steadily aiming the gun at the tiny, trembling shape cowering behind Kita. "And so are you, if you don't let her go. You've got boils coming up on your neck", he informed, throwing a glance at Kita's sweat-coated face. "It's an acheri, a disease ghost."

Finally, Kita let go of the kid – but she didn't let go of him. She clung to his leg with the high-pitched shrieks of a child frightened beyond sense and cried. She was scared to death, as ironic as that was considering that she was already-

"No." Shiro lowered the gun a fraction as realisation hit him. "She doesn't know she's dead." Tearing his eyes from the ghost he looked to Kita again. "She thinks she's alive."

"Then make her think *cough* otherwise!" Kita wheezed. "You can't fight ghosts with guns!" His attempts to peel the panicked girl from his leg caused the agitated skin on his fingers to split and leak a sticky, translucent substance. It was clear as day that Kita wouldn't be able to use his hands, with how his breath hissed out between his teeth in an attempt to not cry out in pain. He slid down on the floor with his back against the wall and tried to kick the ghost off his leg, to no avail. She might look frail, but she was strong. "She has to let *cough cough* let go of this life!"

"Right. Hey, kid! Kiddo!" Shiro put the gun away and sat down on his haunches, close enough to talk to the child and far enough that he could jump back if she tried to touch him. "What's your name? Listen to me! What's your name?"

No chance in hell she'd listen: she only buried her scrunched-up face in Kita's leg and screamed louder.

"You talk to her, I just scare her!"

"Hey… sweetie…?" Kita placed a sickly, boil-infested hand on her hair as gently as he could. "It's okay, girl. What's your name?"

He would rather bite a bullet than admit it aloud, but Shiro had to admire Kita's composure: he doubted he would've been able to sound so calm if he were dying. The girl hiccupped something that sounded like Miho between sobs and sharp, mewling cries.

"Good. Miho-chan… you weren't left behind here." Kita wet his parched lips. "You died. You're not alive. You're a ghost, and you're hurting people. *cough* Right now, you're *cough* hurting me…" And with no sign of stopping it, either: Miho wailed louder, and her stubby little fingers tightened their grip on his trousers. "You're dead. Please, move on…!"

This wasn't going anywhere…! Shiro racked his brain, tried to think of anything at all, any way to make a ghost realise it was-

"Miho-chan. Miho-chan!"

She glanced at him. The panic in her eyes was horribly real. Her tears were real. She was real. She was alone, afraid - alive. In her own mind she was alive, and the mind is a powerful thing. A human can't create illusions to fool others, like kitsune and tanuki, but she can create illusions to fool herself. Anything the mind creates in the world it has built for itself is real: and in this frightened little girl's world, she was alive.

"You think you're alive, don't you?" Shiro detached from himself, became cold and uncaring in face of what he was about to do. He unholstered his gun again and aimed carefully to avoid hitting Kita in the leg. "That means you think you can die."

*bang*

The little body went limp, eyes wide in horror. Then it sank through Kita's leg, dissolved like mist that-

Shiro felt it. Like a breath of cold air against his face, like the thin string of fear plucked in the dark of the night, he felt the demon touch him as it left the dying vapours of Miho.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Kita coughed as he fumbled to get the syringe through the rubber stopper of the vial from his belt, and turn it upside down to draw out its contents. "That's not how you put a spirit to rest!"

"Give yourself that antidote and can it", Shiro snapped. He didn't know if the cold tightening he felt in his chest was from the demon, or from the look in Miho's eyes when he had fired; but he did know that if Kita was thinking of lecturing him right now, he would shut him up with force. "It might not be the proper way to do it, but at least you're alive."

"One should treat the dead with *cough* respect", he said and stabbed the syringe into his arm through the uniform. "That spirit won't find rest with your barbaric manner of sending her on. Then again, I suppose I knew how you treat the dead already."

Kita wasn't Shizuku. Shizuku smacked him right in the face with his opinion: Kita hid his in a tiny, acidic barb aimed at just the right spot. Shiro checked a frown, not wanting to let Kita score any points on him.

"I didn't feel well at the ceremony."

Kita's smile as he swallowed three capsules of herbal extract was no smile. A smile implies happiness: this was mere scorn.

"That I can understand, after that pilgrim ape knocked out a tooth or two. It would seem your manners are distastefully crude even to one who comes by through begging and sleeping in the ditch."

"I just saved your life, you little shit", Shiro growled, feeling the coals in his chest burning through the cold. It would be delightfully easy to shut Kita up when he was in this state. "Is gratitude too crude for people other than beggars and barbarians to know of?"

Apparently, since Kita didn't deliver any snide comeback. Or a "thanks", for that matter. What a dick… and what a perfect time to get some answers out of him.

Shiro was distracted by another gremlin, but not very long. Was it right, to squeeze an injured guy for information...?

"The only things you're good at are shooting and cursing", Kita remarked from the floor. "You don't *cough* know what you did, do you? She thought she was alive: in her mind, what you did was murder. A vengeful spirit will-"

"If you'd rather wanted me to let her kill you, it isn't too late to fix that."

Telling an empty threat from a serious one is difficult for most, because few have ever been faced with a serious threat: but when you are, there is no mistaking it. There is a calmness about the voice that contrasts jarringly with the words it speaks, in a way that sets your very bones tingling.

Kita's bones tingled: still, his mind couldn't accept what his tense, weakened body told him.

"What are you implying?"

Shiro had to read the whisper on his lips as a sudden burst of gunfire echoed through the corridors farther away.

"Just saying I'd rather avoid an accident", he said, raising his arm ever so slightly to aim the muzzle at Kita's legs on the floor. "Ricocheting bullets and such, can happen to the best of us – happened when your brother was on a mission with Todo Eiji, right?"

The look on Kita's face made him smile darkly on the inside. So high and mighty in the classroom, but in a field situation you could always trust his nerves. It was a look that begged for a warning shot, just to see the little bastard wince and yelp. He was scared - scared down to his fucking bones, but not in a million years would he give up trying to hide it. Hide, but unable to run.

It was a look that filled Shiro with a satisfaction that was at the same time chilling and eerily intoxicating.

"So, about that talk you and your brother wanted to have with me: would now be a good time?"

"…you're out of your mind", the lanky guy said in a low voice, staring at him as one would stare at a madman. "You're not fit for fieldwork. You're demented."

"A bit on the cold side, maybe", he stated, letting a bit of that dark smile slip onto his lips, "but I like to think of myself as practical: it's a lot more practical to chat this way than with your brother acting coat rack. What were you two discussing that evening?"

"Family business", was the tense reply.

"Indeed? How about we pretend I'm family, then?" He let the smile grow wider; grow meaner. "My grades say I could be. Truth is I'm better than you, at everything. Akihiro-senpai knows it, too. He sent me down the basement to give you a fighting chance, didn't he? And even then, I have to come and save your ass." Oh, how he had longed for an opportunity to say that to the little brat. "I'm such an asshole." Keen observation. Saying he was sorry for it would've been a lie, though. "You could say you owe me: so what's that family business again…?"

Kita held it together well, but there was that tiny sharpening of his jaw line that betrayed clenched teeth, and that almost unnoticeable look of grappling in his eyes: grappling for threads that were coming undone. How small he was, sagging against the wall like that…

Shiro registered the sound of tiny, hard feet clattering against linoleum floor before Kita could shout the warning. He aimed the gun backwards at the sound and fired: the steady rhythm ended in an abrupt thud that skidded to a halt.

"Sorry, didn't catch that. You were saying…?"

"We were talking about the artefact", Kita said in low tones, wary eyes burning into him. "And how to best keep it safe."

"Hand it over to True Cross Order, then." They had brought that up at the hearing last Christmas: Deep Keep was the safest bunker in the country. "But-" But Yaonaru had turned down the offer every time. "Or is that what you're keeping it safe from…?" Yes, the quick flicker in Kita's eyes told him. Yes: there was something going on there that he didn't feel like sharing. "What is that artefact, and why don't you want the Order to have it?"

Kita's lips twitched as humour temporarily overrode nervousness. His gaze didn't flicker this time, no: it filled with contempt.

"The Order?" he snorted.

Shiro flinched when the walkie-talkie in his belt conveyed a crackling voice:

"This is Yaonaru Akihiro. We have located the gremlin nest. All exorcists assemble in room 698-B in the cardiology ward, sixth floor. Do you copy?"

"Yaonaru Kita, copy", Kita spoke into his transmitter, not once taking his eyes off Shiro. "Incapacitated, without serious injury thanks to Fujimoto Shiro, who will be joining you in 698-B shortly." He didn't click it off, only gave Shiro a cold look and jerked his head in the direction of the staircase.

Shiro didn't bother with long looks and meaning glares: he jogged off to the stairs. The opportunity to make Kita talk was past, but it hadn't been entirely wasted.