All was quiet in the waiting room of the Black Needle.

The smell of alcohol hung in the air and on Mizuki's breath as he stroked my hair awkwardly and whispered literal nothings into my ear.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked.

I nodded. I felt awful. Melting down in front of a complete stranger – he didn't deserve this! It wasn't his problem! Why did I have to be such a burden?

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"We just met," I reminded him.

"I've done a lot more with people I knew less about," he replied.

I buried my head deeper into his chest and mumbled, "You know nothing about me."

"Oh really?" his hands left my body and he ticked each finger as he counted what he knew, "apparently very strong, emotionally fragile, light-weight, probably a virgin –"

"Probably wrong," I muttered bitterly.

The drunk side of my mind wondered very briefly if lack of consent preserved innocence.

"R-really?" Mizuki stammered.

I plastered on a smile he couldn't see.

"You'd be surprised~" I sang.

But not in a good way.

Silence hung around us for a while; an uninvited guest to our private moment while Mizuki worked to collect his thoughts. Apparently not as sober as he'd first seemed.

"So uh – so then that would mean you're – in a relationship?" he asked.

And I laughed. I honestly didn't mean to, but at the same time how could I not?

I laughed so hard that I tumbled onto my back, dragging him down with me. So loud I was sure they would be able to hear it all the way in Oval Tower. I laughed an ugly laugh that deteriorated into snorts and hiccups, while Mizuki hovered over me wearing a confused expression.

"No!" I exclaimed, gasping for air. My laughter howled back to life. "No! No, no, no!"

I shook my head, tears spilling from my eyes because it hurt but it was just so funny.

Me. together with them or any of the others who had hurt me?

"Oh god, that's hysterical," I whined, wiping my eyes.

I looked up, still sniffling away the last bouts of laughter, only to be startled by his sea foam eyes staring right into mine.

"What?" I asked, perplexed by the stunned look on his face.

"Nothing," he quickly said, "But you uh – you look pretty, when you laugh."

Heat pool against my cheeks and I looked away.

Mizuki got to his feet slowly and helped me up along with him. He treated me delicately, like I was about to break again. Like anything would set me off.

"So you ready to tell me why you're here?" He asked, "I mean, you obviously don't have a home to go back to, so we could have another drink if you're not ready."

I shrugged and looked towards the bar.

"Maybe just a little more," I said, "If you don't mind."

"If you think you can handle it."

"It won't happen again," I assured him.

I headed back towards the bar only to have him stop me.

Mizuki grabbed the green bottle off the counter and turned to me with a mischievous look.

"Why don't we go upstairs?" he said, "The views better from my bedroom."

I returned the look while telling my mind to stop screaming.

"Anywhere's fine."

At least if I got drunk I wouldn't remember it the next day.

Mizuki led me through the back of the studio and up a flight of stairs into his tiny studio apartment. He pointed at various areas saying kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom towards a door.

The place was surprisingly well kept, despite its' dingy walls and the lingering smell of spoiled eggs. Maybe it was because there was hardly any furniture except the bed and a small table in the main area of the room, and a kitchen which looked like it came with the building.

Nothing like the pristine white of my own room in Oval Tower. This place felt more like a home.

Mizuki placed the bottle onto the small table facing the window. He turned his back to me and drunk-Sei took that as our cue to undress.

I pulled off my shirt and tossed it to the ground, my belt following quickly after. The room was spinning as I struggled to stay steady. My alcohol soaked mind was at constant risk of letting out a stream of giggles as I began to work on my pants.

Mizuki stumbled around in the dark for a few moments until he managed to pull open the curtains. He turned back around, words obviously at the tip of his tongue, only to freeze.

The look on his face was amazing.

"W-what are you doing?" he squawked.

Then it was my turn to stop, fingers frozen in the loops of my pants.

"Did – did you not invite me up here to have sex?" I asked.

"No!" he exclaimed. He finally looked at me – having politely averted his eyes before – and his eyes lingered over the expanses of my freshly exposed skin. His cheeks tinted red and he looked away again, "I mean I didn't – but we could if you – no, we really shouldn't. We just met!"

"You've done more with people you knew less about," I reminded him.

"Yeah but they weren't like you."

"Not like me," I repeated quietly. It wasn't the biggest understatement I'd heard but it was still monumental. "So we're not having sex?"

"No! I-I don't think so."

"You're not sure?"

"I – no we're not."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and said, "So why did you bring me here?"

He gestured towards the uncovered windows.

"I thought you'd like the view."

I looked up at the large, wall length window. Through the impossibly clear glass was a sight I'd never seen before;

So many of them. So bright. So far away.

It was something I had dreamed of seeing for the longest time.

The inky night sky stretched on out the window for all eternity. A million worlds nobody would ever see. It reminded me that we were all just birds, some equipped with mechanical wings and the means to fly while others were bound to the ground forever.

Mine wasn't the only world which was tiny. We were all trapped to some extent.

"Sei?" Mizuki called.

I blinked and found I'd moved myself closer to the glass, longing to see more. Shirts and other common decencies be damned.

"Sei, where did those scars come from?"


So maybe I have a few scars here and there. With everything I've told you, you ought not to be surprised.

And so maybe by a few I actually mean my body is a colouring book, depicting the horrors of my past, and the aftermath of the price I had to pay for getting out of Platinum Jail. But so what?

"Sei?"

Mizuki's voice was closer this time but not close enough to touch me.

"If I'm crossing some sort of line, just tell me," he said.

"You're not," I whispered, "Just don't – don't run away."

It was silent for the longest time after those words left my mouth; almost like he was waging a war inside his mind trying to find a hidden meaning behind them, or trying to decide whether or not he should run.

I stared at the stars with clearer eyes, sobered somewhat by the sudden flashback to my own reality. I couldn't make out any constellations, despite the numerous books I'd read about them. The lights of Midorijima cancelled out a lot of the stars true beauty, but it didn't take away from the sight. None of it would've mattered anyway; those constellations, they held no meaning in the real world.

Just like me.

But if I could rearrange the stars, give them a new meaning, what kind of picture would I create?

A crown? A dragon – or two? A tower?

I raised my hand and began to trace patterns in the sky, connecting the stars as though the entire world were a sketch book and I were an artist with godlike power.

I would make a true sight to behold.

Mizuki took advantage of my distracted state, and started to trace lines between the scars on my back.

I didn't mind the touching – his hands were warm and the feel of his blunt nails gliding over my skin tickled, it was actually nice. His actions held no malicious – or sexual – intent. It was different.

He took my silence as a bad sign.

"Is – is this okay?" he asked quietly.

I didn't trust myself to speak, so I just nodded.

His finger traced over a large scar along my hip, which continued to the front of my body. His nail scraped over the line lightly and he made a noise which sounded like concern.

"Where did this one come from?" he asked.

"Surgery," I answered immediately.

"Were you sick as a child?" he asked.

He brushed my hair aside to trace a burn mark between my shoulder blades.

"Still am," I replied.

Mizuki hummed. "That explains a lot. But – were you always sick, or did it come after all of this?"

"You're crossing the line," I whispered, as his fingers literally crossed the line onto my stomach, tracing the numerous scars there with feather light touches. His chin rested on my shoulder, giving him a better view.

Mizuki asked if I wanted another drink and I declined, saying I didn't want to move and I didn't want him to either. So we sat there in silence for a while longer, enveloped purely in each other's presence.

I sighed pleasantly while his fingers continued to roam across the planes of my stomach. It was almost as though he were erasing every bad touch with his pure intentions – like he could wipe away the poisonous past from my skin.

"What will you do tomorrow?" Mizuki asked. "I don't want to know so that I can stalk you – I wouldn't do that, at least I don't think I would but stalkers aren't always born they're sometimes made, aren't they? Oh um, anyway I just mean, if you need to be somewhere specific I can help you out?"

"I don't know where I'm going," I confessed. "They didn't tell me."

"They?" he pressed.

"Line."

"Right so – I can't ask about your life or where you came from. Can I at least ask what you're looking for?"

He sounded so hopeful, I didn't want to just let him down but I couldn't tell him about Aoba – just in case he wasn't who he said he was. Toue controlled most of Midorijima so he could have people everywhere looking for me by now.

"No," I said. "But you can still help me, if you're up for a challenge."

He hummed, pretending to think about it while his hand made its way back into my hair, curling it absently around his fingers.

"Are you sure you know what you're looking for?" he asked.

"I'll know it when I see it. Do we have a deal?"

"Y-yeah, of course!" he exclaimed, "Wait we're not going to be breaking the law are we?"