Miyu never went to sleep that night. She held Kuki in her arms with his head resting on her chest, his chin propped on one of her breasts. With him in her arms, a sense of peace and comfort enveloped her. Throughout the night she alternated between rubbing her chin over the top of his head to feel his silky hair against her skin or stroking his back with her fingertips as a soothing gesture for herself. Occasionally he awakened, tilting his head upward to kiss her chin or her lips, wherever his lips contacted. Once he puckered and kissed the swell of her breast located under his lips; a simple movement which led to sharing their bodies and emotions, entwining them in an intimacy that was a comfort in itself.

For hours they had not spoken a word to each other but had enjoyed a physical closeness, a bonding through pure emotion, that required no words. They showered together not wanting to be apart for even a second. At least not until they left this place. They both held an unspoken fear that if the other got out of their sight, their beloved might just disappear. After all, this was a place of the mystical, the magical, and the murderous.

Miyu shed silent tears as she dressed in her traveling outfit of black skin tight yoga leggings, over-sized white t-shirt, and pullover black hoodie with a pouch on the front. Urie, as usual, dressed immaculately in black slacks and black button down shirt. He surprised her by pulling out his white leather trench coat from work.

"You look like you're here in an official capacity," she stated numbly, tears rolling down her face as she packed. "Did you bring your quinque too?"

"Of course not. I never would have gotten it through security. I sure could have used it last night," he murmured, returning clothes from the drawers to his suitcase.

Miyu picked up the wolf mask, carefully wrapping it in one of her sweaters before stuffing it in her carry on bag. She wanted to keep it close to her. If their luggage got lost, she could replace the clothes but not this mask. A family heirloom, the last gift from her father and her people, she would cherish it. Possibly one day she would have a child to pass it on to.

"Ready?" Kuki questioned her, zipping her suitcase before picking it up.

"As I'll ever be," she sighed, hefting the large tote bag onto her shoulder.

Although the sun had not yet risen, her father waited for them downstairs. He paced back and forth across the living room with his hands clasped behind his back. His face appeared drawn, tense, and pale. His handsome face had aged at least ten years overnight. Deep furrows of worry had been cut into his forehead. His intense scowl created troughs on either side of his nose and mouth.

"Dad?" Miyu called from the bottom step of the staircase when he had not yet acknowledged them.

"Miyu," he exhaled, raising his bent head to look at her. He pushed his lips upward but the smile did not diminish the weariness or sadness in his eyes. "It's that time, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," she rejoined, opening her arms when he neared her. Although she was standing on the step, he still towered over her by nearly a foot. Her tears started anew, flowing down her face in wet trails before dripping from her chin as he embraced her for a lengthy time. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetheart," he whispered, shedding tears of his own. "You did nothing wrong. None of this was your fault. If I had known - "

"Sir, please don't blame yourself," Kuki said, placing his hand on his father-in-law's shoulder. "You had no way of knowing someone so close to your heart would betray you in such a terrible way."

Miyu visibly shuddered as a chill ran down her spine like ice water being poured down her back. His words sounded disturbingly prophetic to her.

"Are you all right?" her father asked her, touching her chin with his fingertips.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him. "We should go."

Everett stood on the front porch waiting for them. His shot gun held in a diagonal carry across his chest, he looked as imposing and scary as he had when he met them in the woods upon their arrival. His gun held securely, ready to fire if necessary, lent a sense of urgency and danger to continue their hurried exit from the village. Without a word, he led them and her father to the edge of the treeline.

The picturesque beauty of the mountain hideaway was gone, having been replaced with a sinister cloud tainted by last night's events. During their slow and wordless procession along the path, there was no movement from the dark houses. Not even a sound floated on the air save the whisper of the wind through the evergreens. Not a single curtain drew back to permit curious or angry onlookers to view them. No one came out to stand on their front porch to watch them walk away or to bid them good-bye or go to hell.

At the treeline, Miyu turned to her father to receive one last bone crushing hug and a kiss on the forehead. Kuki received a firm handshake then an unexpected bear hug from his father-in-law. The way his narrow eyes opened wide and practically bugged out of his head made her worry his eyeballs might pop out from a combination of the shock and the strength of her father's hug.

"Daddy, I - "

"I love you too, baby," her father interrupted, tears streaming down his gaunt cheeks. "Don't say good-bye. Just go."

Everett nodded to her father, his leader, before taking them into the forest. Without a word, he expertly guided them through the forest he knew well having prowled it thousands of times as guardian of the colony. Progress seemed to be faster and less strenuous as they were leaving.

"Everett, was a displacement spell cast on us when we were coming in?" Miyu inquired.

"I'm afraid so. Eliza and her little witchy friends cast a spell to keep you two confused and wandering for hours. Thankfully, June and Philip got worried and asked me to help them find you," he explained.

"Oh, June and Philip," she sighed, tears filling her eyes all over again.

"Those two will be fine. They're smarter and stronger than you are giving them credit for. Those two had idea their mother wasn't all she pretended to be but..." He paused, sighing deeply. "Eliza was their mother so they still wanted to think the best of her."

They continued on, driven into silence not only by their proximity to their destination but also by the topic of conversation. Miyu did not want to ask what he would tell his daughter about her mother. Suddenly Everett turned, lowering his gun.

"This is as far as I'll go," he announced. "Your car is five hundred yards ahead in that direction."

Miyu turned her head to look in the direction he pointed.

"Everett, I - " Her voice froze in her throat when she turned back to see he was gone. Her head swung in Kuki's direction, but he was already walking in the indicated direction. "Did you see - "

"No," he replied swiftly, cutting her off. "Let's go, my beautiful wife. We have to get to the airport."

~\..'../~

"Wake up, my love," Kuki whispered in her ear.

Miyu groaned and accidentally slapped him square in the middle of his face with a loud smack to push him away.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose. "Damn, you really are mean."

"I'm tired," she whined, slowly coming around. She had fallen asleep soon after getting settled in her seat and had slept through the entire, excruciatingly long flight.

"Sweetheart, I know. We'll be home soon," he assured her, patting her hand that was lying on her thigh. "Buckle your seat belt. We're about to land."

Miyu's entire body felt heavy and difficult to move. She groaned in protest at being jostled around when he reached under her, searching for the two parts of the seatbelt. She soon discovered he had ulterior motives for assisting her when he pinched her butt mercilessly before dragging out one part of the seatbelt from under her behind. As he reached around her hip to the other side, she slapped his hand away.

"No, thank you, sir. Your brand of help I do not need. I can do it," she muttered, lifting her behind to find the second part. "Wow, you've changed."

"Yeah, I have," he confirmed, brushing lips across hers. "It's all your fault."

"I'll gladly take the responsibility for that," she giggled, clicking her seat belt as the flight attendant began the landing spiel over the speaker.

Miyu's stomach drop as the plane began to lower from the sky to the runway. Home. The word had redefined itself again. Not that she minded. She dearly loved the person responsible for redefining the term.

Once the unbuckle safety belts sign turned on, they gladly untethered themselves and stood up to take their carry-ons out of the overhead bin. Slowly making their way with the rest of the herd from the plane then through the long tunnel into the airport itself. They gradually made their way to baggage carousel to stand and wait.

While they were waiting for their suitcases, Kuki took out his cell phone to turn it on. The device immediately began beeping and vibrating like a bomb ready to explode.

"Turn that thing off before security comes to arrest us!" Miyu hissed.

"What the hell is going on here?" he muttered, scanning the numerous text messages. Quite a few were still loading. He ignored the missed call and voice mail alerts choosing to read through the texts only.

Miyu reached into her bag to grab her phone. Her fingers contacted the smooth, cold surface of the mask. Momentarily she caressed the wood before continuing her blind search for her phone. After finding it, she turned it on, and it did the same thing as her husband's, going off like crazy.

"Has the end of the world come?" she muttered to herself.

"Seems like it," Kuki answered her rhetorical question.

Miyu received numerous texts from Ken Kaneki. There was one from Kishou Arima. She even had a few from Saiko and Tooru, both most likely searching for Kuki.

"Aww, dammit," he muttered irritably.

"What's wrong?" she asked, craning her neck to see his phone. Before she could read the message from Furuta Nimura, he deleted it. He slid his phone into the pocket of his coat.

"I have to go to headquarters. Some major shit has gone down," he sighed, rubbing his face with both hands in exasperation.

Miyu chewed her lower lip nervously while she studied his face. Dark circles had formed under his eyes along with the bags he carried there all due to severe lack of sleep not to mention the tiresome flight. She wanted him to come home because he was exhausted. The thought of him having to go out and fight ghouls in his current impaired condition terrified her.

Perhaps it was only an emergency meeting, a briefing on some rumor of a coming cataclysmic ghoul incident which unfortunately was not unusual. The rumors and the incidents were almost commonplace. Hopefully the investigators would not have to engage a group of ghouls.

"Miyu, I need you to do something for me," Kuki said, reading the messages on his phone. "Go home. Lock the doors. Stay away from the windows. Don't open the door for anyone but me."

"What's going on? I can come with you. Don't forgot I'm part of the CCG again," she stated with a hopeful lilt of her voice.

"No, not yet you aren't. Not in an official capacity," he reminded her. He still played by the rules, although she knew he was using that as an excuse to keep her away as long as possible. "Go home, Miyu. Please, for once, don't argue with me."

The pleading expression in his gray eyes enabled her to hold her tongue. She mutely nodded.

"I'll get our suitcases and go home. Go ahead," she urged him, glancing back at the empty conveyor belt. Obviously they had not yet unloaded their airplane's cargo hold. Her heart sank with dread. "I may be here a while."

"I love you," he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her heartily on the lips not caring one bit they were in public. Since it was around two in the morning, there were not many people in the airport.

"I love you too," she returned, reluctantly releasing him. She yelled after him, "Come home to me! That's an order!"

"Yes, ma'am!" he yelled in return over his shoulder to her.

"I can't lose you too," she whispered to herself.

Two hours later, around 4AM, Miyu finally made it home. Her dinky little apartment had never looked so good. She dumped all of their bags at the door, walking over to the bed. Falling face first onto the soft mattress, she moaned plaintively to alleviate the stress that had been building over the last two hours. However, nothing could tame the tension wrought on her body every time she thought about Kuki.

"Dammit," she grumbled realizing she had forgotten to lock the door.

Whimpering as she pulled her body from the soft bed, Miyu went to the door. As she was about to turn the deadbolt, the door knob slowly began to rotate. Her breathing stopped as she stared at the moving doorknob in disbelief. Kuki had warned her to lock the door. Did he somehow know she was going to have unexpected visitors? And who are they?

At least she had left the lights off. Slowly backing away, she nearly tripped over her carry on bag. Keeping her eyes on the door, she lowered her body until her fingertips touched the floor and her behind was in the air like a runner at her mark for a race. Her stomach dropped to her toes when the door moved forward.

Here they come, she told herself.

Gathering her strength in her legs, she launched herself at the door, throwing her entire body against it. The door met flesh and bone, resisting slightly before thrusting the person backwards as it slammed shut. A dull thud from the contact of a big body hitting the wall came from behind the door.

"Fuck!" she heard a man yelling before a series of bumps varying in volume and cadence indicated he was rolling down the stairs.

Before she could engage the deadbolt, Miyu was sent flying backwards when a booted foot kicked in the door breaking it free from the top hinge. The force shoved her across the small living room into the wall. Her head hit the wall behind her with enough force to crack the dry wall sending out a puff of plaster dust around her.

Another large man, both tall and wide, stomped toward her with a confident swagger. He wore faded blue jeans, a black leather jacket, and thick soled black biker boots. Completely incongruous to the rest of his appearance, he wore a white mask bearing an overly exaggerated grin like the one used to represent comedy in theater. Instead of approaching her, he stepped to the side.

Without waiting for him to attack her, Miyu rushed at him. She stopped short before slamming right into him. Flipping forward in a front handspring, she pushed herself upwards as forcefully as she could off of her hands to wrap her legs around his neck. She managed to squeeze his neck between her knees, locking her legs around his head at her ankles. Reaching up, she grabbed his head with both hands, leaning back as quickly as possible so the momentum of her body would pull him forward, setting him off balance. Holding onto him tightly, she flipped him over onto his back as they were falling.

They rolled together, head over heels. Miyu found herself in an upright position, sitting on his neck with her thighs gripping his head. His fingers dug into her thighs, his lengthy pointed nails painted red with her blood as they pierced her skin through the thin material of her lycra pants. Tightening the muscles in her thick thighs, she twisted his neck until she heard the nausea inducing crack of bone. His body became limp and lifeless under her.

Scuttling backwards off of the man's dead body, Miyu saw a third man looming in front of her. His body did not move at all as he stood there staring at her. Instead of wearing make up, he wore a white mask bearing the visage of the quintessential clown with a bulbous red nose and big red lips. There was also a red star painted around the left eye hole and a red heart painted around the right eye hole. Tufts of crayon red hair jutted out from his head. The costume he wore was large and loose, white with red polka dots, hanging pitifully on his almost skeletal body. Over-sized, floppy red shoes were on his feet. A classic clown but there was nothing funny about this situation.

At last he budged, his head cocking to the side ever so slowly in the manner of a befuddled puppy. He held the string attached to a singular red balloon in his hand. He reminded her of a killer clown she had read about in a book years ago.

Miyu frantically searched for a place to hide as he raised the nose of the pistol in his hand to aim it at her head. He stood between her and door so she would have to go through him to leave. However, his bullet would go through her before she could shift him out of the way. She was wary of that one red balloon. There had to be a nefarious purpose for that balloon.

Sliding to her left, toward the kitchen counter, she froze when he followed her with the muzzle of the gun. But he did not fire. She took another step. The same thing happened. The gun remained aimed at her head. Taking a chance, gathering her courage and her strength, she lunged for the counter, seizing the extremely sharp filet knife from the dish drainer.

He squeezed off a shot, the fire cracker like pop sounding like a cannon in her ears. Seconds later, a burning sensation like alcohol being poured into an open wound cut across her right shoulder. A jolting electrical shock of pain rushed down her arm, making it feel achy and numb at the same time. Her body's natural response was for her fingers to let go of the knife so she grabbed it with her left hand. Although not ambidextrous, she flung the knife toward the clown.

Being such a thin knife, it would not do major damage, only startle him a bit and distract him momentarily. Worst case scenario, she misses him entirely. Or perhaps worst case scenario would be hitting the balloon. It could be filled with poisonous gas or some kind of bio-weapon.

The creepy, silent clown stumbled back a step when the knife found its way into his belly, sinking down to the hilt. He presently stood in the doorway completely blocking her escape route. More bad news came in the form of him being completely unfazed by the knife in his gut.

Miyu stood still for second. When he raised the gun again, this time aiming at the balloon above his head, she bolted toward him at top speed. She did not want to find out what was in that balloon.

About two feet in front of him, she dropped onto her back, sliding across the floor. Thrusting her legs up and out at him, she kicked at his abdomen with all of her might. One foot pushed the knife further into his belly, driving the handle deep inside of him. Her other foot hit him in the gut to fling him out of the door and against the wall. Unfortunately, he bounced off the wall and back into the apartment toward her.

Jumping to her feet, Miyu kicked him back out the door with her right leg then gave him a roundhouse kick with her left leg to push him down the stairs. She dropped to the floor, panting.

Thwacks and crunches followed in a staccato beat as he bumped down the steps. Random bones cracked, getting broken as his body pounded the sturdy wooden steps. A final loud thwack sounded to be followed by a sickening crunch. Hopefully the revolting sound heralded his death.

Miyu swayed precariously then dropped to the floor onto her behind. Her right arm felt cold and wet, a little bit sticky. She carefully took off her blood soaked hoodie. Half dried blood smeared her arm all the way down to her wrist. She grunted, gritting her teeth, when a searing pain started in her upper arm where the bullet had entered.

The invisible flames of agony burned through her upper arm from the bullet lodged in her bicep down to below her elbow. The muscles quivered and contracted making her wonder if something had come to life inside her arm. The trickle of blood became a steady flow, spurting out forcefully from the bullet hole with each beat of her heart. Grinding her teeth to hold back a scream, she fought through the gradually increasing pain. She squeezed her eyes closed to block out the black dots and flashes of light alternately popped up in her vision. When she reached her threshold, sure she was about to pass the edge of insanity driven there by the overwhelming physical torment, the pain receded like a wave returning to the ocean.

The delicate plink of a small object hitting the hardwood floor caught her attention, prompting her to open her eyes. On the floor lay the bullet, a squished, half flattened piece of metal. She picked it up to examine it, bringing it close to her bleary eyes. Although covered by her blood, she could tell the metal was silver.

"Good thing I'm not a werewolf," she mumbled to herself.

Miyu slumped forward, her vision dimming around the edges from the incoming fog of dizziness. She feared she might faint. What if the men who tried to kill her weren't dead yet? These clowns were not mere humans. They were ghouls. Incredibly weak ones, but ghouls none the less. Whoever sent them to kill her assumed she would be an easy target. The joke was on them.

"What the fuck?" Although Kuki had uttered the words in shocked confusion under his breath, she heard them loud and clear in the eerie stillness. "Miyu? Miyu!" he yelled running up the stairs.

"I'm here," she called out to him weakly, unable to rise from the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked, falling onto to his knees in front of her.

"I forgot to lock the door. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"What? What are you talking about?" he questioned her, pushing the sweaty hair away from her face. "Why are you apologizing? These men came here to kill you."

"You told me to lock the door. I forgot to lock the door," she repeated. The sight of his face wavered and became fuzzy.

"Miyu," he whispered, pulling her into his arms and into his body. He cradled the back of her head with his hand. "It's okay. It doesn't matter. They would have gotten in regardless."

Miyu felt her body being lifted, his strong arms holding her securely.

"Where are we going?" she inquired when he lifted her into his arms in a bridal carry.

"If I had been here to carry you in over the threshold like this, I wouldn't be having to carry you out over the threshold to the hospital," he said.

"I'm okay. My body is healing itself."

"You're still going to the hospital. You need to be checked out. I need to know you're okay. If I had been here, you would have been safe."

"But I'm fine," she insisted. "I'm not helpless. I can protect myself, you know. I think I did a pretty good job."

"Yes, you did," he agreed. His tone made him sound as if he were pandering to a petulant child.

"Besides, whoever did this didn't think much of me." She lay her head on his shoulder, too feeble to hold it up any longer. "You don't seem to think too much of me and my abilities either."

"I'm sorry. I swear I'll never underestimate you again," he promised.

"Don't. Because you're going to need me," she warned him.

"I already do need you. That's why nothing can happen to you."