Living with Eyes Rutherford is frustrating as hell.

Having spent the better part of the week living in a huge and probably enormously expensive loft, Kirie can't deny that she's had a remarkable amount of privacy. She's also had a dinner cooked for her every night (though where Eyes Rutherford found time to learn to cook, she'll never guess), and her sleep has gone uninterrupted by the piano or any kind of noise from the young man residing in the bedroom next door.

But.

For all this peace and quiet, she's still been irritated. And extremely so. Even with Eyes keeping entirely to himself, only speaking when spoken to and remaining practically glued to his piano, she's been irritated by his very presence.

There's some feeling of freedom she's lost. She's lost the freedom to walk around wearing whatever she wants, to watch dramas on television with the volume turned up loud, to sprawl out on her couch drinking beer and eating microwaved dinners.

And as grateful as she knows she should be for the safety, for the homecooked meals and the comfortable bed (because fuck, her futon really ought to be thrown out by now), she can't feel like herself like this. She can't pretend to be quiet and polite like he is. She just can't.

Just him being there is a bother. She knows he wouldn't say anything, if she came in and ate curry rice or drank a beer while watching a ridiculous drama on his TV, but he would judge her. And that, that's just… too much.

She can't do it.

So she comes back to his loft on Friday afternoon, her work week over, fully intending to tell him that she's finished with the whole thing and going back to her own apartment. He's been a lovely host but she'd rather live alone, be alone, rather than pretend she's this polite, well-behaved shell of a woman.

But he isn't there when she arrives, and there's a note on the kitchen island that says he'll be out late.

It's not how she wanted to do it, she thinks, but maybe it will be easier - just leaving the key behind and going, no explanation needed. She goes into the guest room and begins to pack her things and hopes that they never end up being roommates again.

"I was wondering where you'd gone, Tsuchiya-san."

Kirie's first instinct is to beat the intruder within her apartment to death with the first thing within her reach, which just so happens to be a ceramic cookie jar shaped like a monkey. Said intruder doesn't exactly look concerned, but he doesn't look happy about this reaction, either. "Errrm, I suppose I should explain why I'm in here - "

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN MY APARTMENT?!"

"Sorry. Right." The man rises from her couch, running a hand through the long strands of black hair that have been hanging in his face. He's tall and lanky, and Kirie sees the shine of a silver hoop in one ear. "My name is Coen. And you left your window open."

"I live on the third floor."

"And I'm fully capable of climbing." He smiles a bit sheepishly. "But more importantly, I had dropped by to check on your safety, since I was in the area and all, and with the news about you…"

Kirie doesn't put the cookie jar down. She still thinks she could give him a concussion with it, at least, if she caught him by surprise. "You're still not explaining anything."

"Right - right. I'm a Watcher as well. Or - was."

She lowers the jar, but only a little. "Why should I believe that?"

"Narumi Kiyotaka contacted me about the threat on Eyes Rutherford's life. When I saw the news - " He gestures toward a tabloid on one arm of the couch, her face blurry and distant on the cover. She hasn't seen this one yet, and doesn't want to. " - I wondered if there was something going on, because he'd mentioned your name before. The rest, well…"

She puts the jar down on the kitchen counter. But only for the moment. "So you snuck in here because you thought… what? That I needed protecting?"

"Er, well. I suppose it was something along those lines. Or maybe collaboration, if Eyes Rutherford was in danger."

"What did you say your name was again?"

He blinks once, twice, three times. "Er. It's Coen Smit. It's Dutch, you see; I'm originally from - "

"I'll tell you two things, Coen Smit, and then you can get the hell out of my apartment." She opens a kitchen drawer and wraps her hand around the handle of the biggest knife she owns - not that she's going to show him that, not yet, but just in case. "One: I do not need protecting."

He cringes. "I'm - sorry, I - "

"Two: Eyes Rutherford is more concerned about my safety than his own right now, so you can throw whatever ideas you have about watching or protecting that idiot right out the same window you crawled through." She pauses. "Now get the hell out of here before I start screaming about an intruder and find the need to defend myself."

That's all the motivation the Watcher seems to need; he doesn't make eye contact as he goes for the door, nearly jogging out into the entranceway and closing the door hard behind him. Kirie waits for nearly a moment before unclenching the knife and closing the drawer, her overnight bag and purse dropping heavily from her shoulder to the kitchen floor. "Fuck," she hisses, "I thought we were past all this…"

Her cell phone begins to ring. She looks down at her purse, vibrating slightly on the floor, and shakes her head. "Not now," she says, out loud. That can wait until she smokes.

She's on her third cigarette by the time she finally feels stable enough to retrieve her cell phone and look at the call log. She calls Eyes back, even though she's in no mood to talk to him (part of this is all his fault, after all), and he answers on the first ring.

"I just left the hospital," he greets her, abruptly. "Narumi Ayumu is…" There's a pause. Kirie feels her chest tighten with fear, but then Eyes sighs and finishes his sentence. "... struggling. His surgery has been scheduled for next week."

"Oh."

"I thought you might want to be aware." She hears the noise of traffic in the background and guesses he's standing outside, waiting for his car to pick him up. "I am sure he would appreciate a visit, should you find the time to come. Yamada-san will be preoccupied this evening, but he could take you tomorrow, if you wish."

"I… don't think that'll be happening." She frowns at the street below her window, flicking ash off her burning cigarette. "I came back to my apartment after work. I thought it'd be safe by now."

"... ah." His voice stays the same - quiet and devoid of emotion. "I hope I have not done anything to make you feel uncomfortable."

"No. I just don't really like living with somebody else, I guess."

His tone still doesn't change. "I understand."

She grits her teeth, suddenly irritated. Does nothing make him mad? Or happy? Or feel anything?

"You are welcome to return at any time," he continues. "And please, if there is anything I can do for you, you only need to ask."

"Sure. And… thanks for telling me about Ayumu-kun." She straightens her back, closing - and locking, this time - her window. "Goodbye, Raza-kun."

"Goodbye, Kirie."

They hang up. And she hopes that this time it's the end of it. No more Eyes, no more Watchers, no more talk of curses, no more getting kicked out of her apartment. Just her and her job and her stupid landlord leering at teenagers.

She wakes up after falling asleep on her couch to the sound of her cell phone ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

She's only half-awake when she answers it, but when she does, Eyes is frantic on the other end.

"Kirie."

"Wha…" She rubs her eyes as she sits up. "The hell? Raza-kun, wh -"

"The Hunter who threatened me. He has your location." She's never heard him sound this… concerned. Maybe it's fear. She can't quite place his tone. "He made a threat through my publicist - not on my life, but on yours."

So much for the end of it. "... I knew that guy wasn't a Watcher," she mutters.

"What - who are you - "

"It's… something I haven't told you about yet. Shit." She yawns, sweeping her hair out of her face. "Okay, so what am I supposed to do about this? Not going to lie to you, if it's the guy I think it is, he already knows where I live and how to get into my apartment. Even if I do lock all my windows."

"You must come back here. Please."

She groans. "You have to be kidding me. I just left."

"I understand that you would prefer to be alone, but if something were to happen to you because of me…"

"Nothing's going to - "

"Kirie." She recognizes this tone. It's desperation. And it's definitely fear. "Please."

"... okay," she hears herself agreeing. "Fine. Send over your driver." She lifts herself off the couch, stretching her free arm over her head, and looks at the overnight bag still packed on the floor. "But this time you're doing my laundry along with cooking my meals. And paying my rent."

"Anything," he agrees, "to keep you safe." And then he hangs up.

Kirie looks at the phone in her hand for a moment and sighs. She'll have to give it another shot - what choice does she have?

But this time, for her own sake, she'll have to stop pretending and be herself - otherwise, she thinks, with a snort, she might end up murdering him for a little excitement.