A/N: Two more chapters and this story is done! Now I really wanna write that Mafia AU ( with fem! Nagisa and Karma ), and there's a high chance I might, so keep AN out for it!

"Are you okay?" Mistress asks gently.

Nagisa's face is deathly pale, and she has made no effort to mask the shadow of weariness that rings her eyes. Today, she seems as though she is drowning in fabric. Her slender frame is lost within the voluminous folds of her black cardigan, which smells of stale rose water. The black sweater reaches almost to her calves, and underneath, she's wearing a white eyelet sundress. She's wearing a pair of strappy sandals, and her hair tumbles around her shoulders in fragrant tangles. Even though Nagisa looks like she's recovering from a bad bout of flu, she still looks incredibly pretty.

"It is a lot to take in," Gyaru English adds roughly, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

Gyaru English is wearing a black cotton sweater, the lace of her La Senza bra clearly visible through the thin weave. She taps her ballet flats against the carpeted floor impatiently, unable to sit still. Her normally sun-kissed skin is pale and wan, and Nagisa guesses that she must have been worried.

"I . . ." Nagisa squeezes her eyes so tightly that she sees rainbow colored blobs and sparks behind her eyelids. " . . . Let me get this straight."

She opens her mouth, but clamps it shut once again when the waiter arrives bearing a silver three-story tray laden with scones, sandwiches, and petit fours. Shiny silver teapots filled with brewing tea are placed next to their porcelain cups. The waiter takes the teapot and pours the hot tea into her cup. The pleasant aroma of steeped bergamot fills her senses, and Nagisa droops like a flower wilting at dusk, the tension leaving her set shoulders. In the background, the harpist plays a gentle melody.

To stall for time, Nagisa helps herself to the treats. Aside from a handful of warm almonds and a mouthful of ( spiked ) beer the night before, her stomach has had virtually nothing in it. Nagisa puts a lavish spoonful of Devonshire cream on a scone and tops it off with a dollop of lemon curd. She takes a bite, murmuring her delight.

Nagisa tries again. It feels odd to feel the heavy sensation of arms and legs again. Her stomach flips, but she doesn't think she'll vomit ( which is good, since she'd spent quite a bit of time heaving the contents of her stomach into the toilet ). "You claim that Akabane dressed up as a girl, killed the target and carried me safely away like a damsel in distress."

The words are heavy in her mouth. Even Nagisa herself doesn't quite believe it. On the bright side, it makes Gyaru English crack a smile.

"Yes, that's what I've been saying," Stern Lecture says, dabbing her napkin on her mouth. "Isogai was there, and he gave me the skinny."

"Your boyfriend was there, and you didn't tell me?" Gyaru English asks accusingly.

Stern Lecture ignores her in favor of leaning forwards to whisper urgently at Nagisa. "Okay, again, this is what happened. Akabane took off after that douche dragged you to his hotel room. He saw . . . Well, you know what he saw, and he killed the douche. Akabane dragged you back downstairs, where he and Isogai helped to get you back to us. We headed back to the safe house, and that's it. End of story."

Nagisa discovers that she is starving. She takes sandwich – a thin, square, tuna salad one, and another scone. "I don't get it."

The waiter silently refills the top two levels of their tray, gliding in unobtrusively.

"Which part?" Mistress asks, in between bites of smoked salmon on rye.

Nagisa is confused. "I'm . . ." She swallows, and forces out the question. " . . . I stabbed him. Why would he . . .?"

"Well, to be fair, he did try to kill you twice." Gyaru English frowns and lifts the lid of her teapot. She beckons to the waiter who is standing quietly against the wall. "I'd like some more hot water please," she says.

Mistress bites her lip. "Maybe . . ."

"Maybe what?" Nagisa reaches for a strawberry tart, chewing and swallowing the slick of sweetness without really tasting anything.

". . . Maybe he's in love with you." Gyaru English says lightly, seeming more like her old self. Her pronouncement is so matter-of-fact, she could have been giving Nagisa a cookies recipe. She squints at her small square of sponge cake, frowning.

If Nagisa had been drinking, water would have shot out her nostrils. As it is, she casts Gyaru English a bewildered glance. "Excuse me?"

Stern Lecture cringes, and busies herself with choosing a small finger sandwich filled with crab salad. She takes a tiny bite, then puts it back on her plate. "I'm sure there's an explanation for their statement." She arches an eyebrow. "There is one, right?"

Mistress' voice has a melodious, cultured quality, soothing and patrician at the same time. "Love might be too strong a word, but it's obvious that you feel something for him." She stirs honey into her tea, running a finger over the sparkling rim of the cup. "At the dance, you could have killed Akabane, but you didn't. On the rooftop, you could have sniped him, but you didn't."

"That's . . ." Nagisa sets her tea cup down with such force that the other patrons look up at the sound. ". . . I didn't . . ."

Mistress offers Nagisa a sympathetic smile over the rim of her tea cup. She takes a long sip, her pinky finger pointed down daintily. "He could have killed you in the forest, or in the hotel, but he chose not to. And yesterday, too. Akabane didn't have to follow you. He could have just left you to . . ." She waves her hand around to illustrate her point, but Nagisa gets it.

She remembers how at first, she thought it had been him sitting vigil at her bedside as she woke. But his hair was crimson, like flickering flames, not green. His eyes golden and expressive; one moment mischievous, the next predatory, not emerald green and pained. She hoped Kayano hadn't seen the disappointment in her own eyes that it was her she'd seen, not the boy who'd saved her.

"Oh. Oh." A strangled squeak escapes Nagisa's throat. "Oh no, no, no. This cannot be happening."

"I assure you, it is very much happening," Gyaru English says with a wolfish grin, looking incredibly happy; almost as though she were the one hooking up with a boy, not Nagisa.

"Well," Stern Lecture mutters. "At least he like likes you too."

"How is that a good thing?" Nagisa asks weakly, her head still swimming – but it's not a side effect of the drugs; at least, she doesn't think so.

"He won't kill you when you go to see him later," Mistress explains as she surveys the plate of petit fours and chooses a hazelnut cookie.

"I don't know where he lives," Nagisa mumbles, staring miserably at her empty plate.

A part of her dreads talking to Akabane, but a larger part of her burns with curiosity, over-ruling the fear and a lifetime on instincts that scream 'THIS IS A BAD IDEA'. This time, she's determined not to leave until she's gotten the answers to what she wants to know. She can only hope that Akabane wants to talk to her as well.

Stern Lecture clears her throat, setting down a half eaten chocolate cream puff. "I do."