Her back was pressed flush against the office door. Neuro loomed over her, his hands gripping her arms to hold her in place. Good thing, too. Without him holding her up, Yako was sure she would crumple to the ground; her shaking legs wouldn't hold out much longer. She wondered what his expression was—whether he was mad or frustrated or merely sadistic—but she couldn't bring herself to look at his face. The fear of what she might find kept her gaze on her shoes.

How did she get herself into this situation? She couldn't remember.

"Yako . . ."

Somehow she knew he was trying to get under her defenses. Neuro never called her by her name. It was always louse or some other degrading term. But she wouldn't fall for one of his traps, not this time. Yako kept her gaze to the ground, shifting her focus from her feet to the cracks in the tile. The task proved more difficult than she expected. It felt like there was an invisible hand trying to tilt her head up and force her to look at the demon. And no matter how hard she tried or fought against it, she felt her willpower slipping away.

Neuro apparently sensed her crumbling defenses and decided to use this to his advantage. With a tightened grip he stepped closer, his mouth brushing against her ear. Yako practically jumped when he whispered, his breath warm as it moved across her skin.

"Yako." His voice was even lower than normal.

She shivered at the sound. How did something that sounded so human sound so inhuman at the same time? Despite herself, Yako found her head lifting of its own accord, her eyes locking with his.

Her stomach felt as though it had dropped down to the office three stories below them—or perhaps even further than that. Neuro was giving her that look. The one she saw after she had finished the pomegranate. It was a hungry look, but she knew Neuro didn't hunger for puzzles or mysteries.

It was for something more primitive, more primal.

Yako had barely blinked and his mouth was pressed against hers, unusually gentle. For a moment she stood there, eyes wide, staring at the puzzle-eating demon. This couldn't be Neuro. Gentle—or any other terms remotely related—did not apply to him. And yet, she found herself closing her eyes.

Once he released her arms, her hands wove themselves into his two-toned hair. She was surprised to find how soft the strands were between her fingers. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, the gap between them disappearing. Yako moaned at the closeness, at the sudden warmth of his body against hers. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be kissing Neuro. The feeling was overwhelming. She was certain she would collapse to the ground, her already trembling limbs giving out, but he pulled her legs onto his hips.

She couldn't pull away. More than that, Yako didn't want to. She wanted to lose herself in his warmth, in the feelings he was bringing out of her. When he finally pulled his lips from hers, she let Neuro take her wherever he wanted.

As he crossed the room, something struck her as odd. Since when did they get a bed? A couch, yes, but not a bed. She tried thinking back to when they had bought that particular piece, but found the task impossible. Neuro's mouth on her neck, sucking the skin and massaging it with his tongue, kept distracting her.

He dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed. The sudden impact shocked Yako from her stupor, if only briefly. Neuro grabbed her wrists, forcing them above her head, and returned his lips to hers. This time there was no hesitation; her mouth moved as frantically as his.

But something was wrong. As they continued she could feel Neuro morph, become less human and more like his true form. But she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Soon his head no longer resembled a human's. He had fully transformed into the strange bird-like creature she had seen only a handful of times.

His mouth opened completely to reveal rows of short, sharp teeth hidden inside his beak. Yako tried to push away from him, but she felt herself falling, falling, down his throat, until she was no more.

Neuro's beak closed with a resounding slam. "Gochisousama."

Yako's eyes popped open. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, on the verge of hyperventilating, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. She looked around her room, bathed in the pink of early morning light, then turned to clock on the nightstand beside her: 5:15. Closing her eyes she sighed, a hand on her chest.

What was with that dream? It felt so real. The bed should've tipped her off, and it had, but only for a second. But even without the bed, Neuro's behavior was more than enough to . . .

Her cheeks burned as she forced the dream from her mind. How could she have given in so easily? Dream or not, Yako couldn't stand the thought. She would never allow herself, not to him, and how dare her subconscious suggest otherwise.

Besides, did Neuro even know or care about those things? What exactly did being married to him entail?

Yako rubbed the ring, his ring, between her fingers. She refused to take this 'marriage' in stride. She wouldn't let him play with her like he always did. No matter what, she would remove the ring and get their marriage reversed, if it was the last thing she did.

One of them would have to give in to the other's wishes, and this time it wouldn't be her.

Her silent oath was enough to sooth her nerves. Rolling onto her side, Yako tried going back to sleep. With any luck this would be her one day of rest from school and mysteries. She wanted nothing more than to sleep in and not worry about getting dressing up.

To her dismay, her body was against her.

Yako pulled her pillow out from under her head and covered her face. She didn't want to get up. Why did she have to be programmed to wake early? At least the chores that had piled up around the house would get worked on.

With one last sigh she removed the pillow and opened her eyes. Green eyes stared back at her. A moment passed before it clicked that Neuro was leaning over her—not on the ceiling, for once, but by her bed. She screamed and tumbled to the floor.

Right next to Neuro.

"Why, Yako!" he said rather cheerfully. "If I knew all it would take for you to bow down at my feet was marriage, I would've wed you a long time ago!"

Her eyebrow twitched. "Stop reading into things that were obviously an accident!"

Yako had silently hoped the puzzle-eating demon would've learned the boundaries of privacy, but considering he stood right next to her, in her bedroom of all places, apparently not. Or perhaps he had learned and simply didn't care. The latter seemed more likely.

"What do you think you're doing in my room?"

She was about to push herself off the ground when Neuro placed a foot on her back, forcing her back down. A wide smirk was plastered across his face. "I sensed the hint of a mystery nearby."

"Get off of me, you—" Yako flailed her arms and legs, hoping to get some bearing. When that didn't work, she turned to face him. As much as she could, at any rate, with her pressed against the floor.

"Is something wrong? Surely you enjoy being at your shujin's feet," said Neuro. "Why else would you have dropped to the ground so suddenly after you noticed I was here?"

Yako swatted awkwardly at his foot, but it didn't budge. "That's why I said to stop reading into things!"

To her surprise, Neuro removed his foot from her back. She managed to push herself up with a little effort, a few pops running down her spine. His torment didn't last as long as Yako expected. That could only mean one thing: he had something worse in store for her.

"Hurry up, louse," he said, eyes moving up and down her form critically. "If you take any longer, the mystery may reveal itself before we get there. I shall give you to the count of ten."

"Huh?" Yako stared at him as if he had grown another head—or maybe had his true form's head. "The count of ten to do . . . what?"

Neuro folded his arms. "To get ready."

"R-Ready?" repeated Yako, then shook her head. "Neuro, there's no way I could possibly—"

"Starting now. Ten . . ."

Yako knew better than to push her luck. Thankfully she had taken a shower the night before. At the count of eight she stood in front of her closet, grabbing anything that was clean, and ran to the bathroom. By the count of four, she had somehow managed to remove her pajamas and pull on her clothes: a pair of shorts, a tank top, and a thin sweater. Neuro made his way from the bedroom to the kitchen by the time he reached one. When he found her she was in the kitchen, shoveling food into her mouth.

He grabbed her head and dragged her away from the table. "Zero."

"Wait, I'm almost done!" She reached out to the table, and the dirty dishes laying on it, but couldn't reach. "I still need to brush my teeth!"

"I've spared you ten seconds I didn't have to give. You should be thankful for my kindness."

Neuro's definition of kindness was definitely twisted. But considering what she had seen of his cruelty, yes, this would be him being kind.

"You can let go now. I'm not going to run away. I'll be right behind you." His grip on her head didn't loosen. "Neuro?" No answer. "You're not seriously going drag me the whole way, are you?"

It was a stupid question. Yako knew that the moment it left her mouth. Of course he would. Marriage wouldn't change that. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, or misplaced hope, or a bit of both. Why she would have either was anyone's guess.

Yako managed to ignore the whispers and stares and pointing as they made their way to the crime scene. This wasn't the first time Neuro had pulled this stunt, so she was sadly used to it. What surprised her were a couple of older women giggling as they passed. She only caught part of their conversation, but the words 'cute' and 'sweet' were somehow involved.

They stopped in front of a tiny bakery. Only then did Neuro let go, dropping her without warning. Yako could feel herself slip into their normal routine. It was almost relaxing, in a perverse kind of way.

"A mystery, here?" She looked briefly at Neuro. "Someone was killed here?"

"Very soon," he said, anticipation in his eyes.

Barely a minute passed before they were joined by two familiar faces.

Sasazuka took a puff of his cigarette, then stomped it out as he approached. "Yako-chan, you're up early."

"Yes. I'm afraid I had trouble getting back to sleep."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Sasazuka.

"You two!" Ishigaki pointed at her and Neuro. "How do you always manage to get here before us? It's unnatural."

Neuro placed his hands on her shoulders, his 'innocent' face already set. "It's only because of Yako's amazing intuition!"

"Yako's?" Sasazuka repeated, eyebrow raised.

"Anyway, please excuse us." Neuro's hands moved from her shoulders to her waist as he dragged her into the building. "Yako simply can't wait to get started on this case. Isn't that right?" His hand morphed into claws and pressed firmly into her side.

Yako bristled at the sensation, pale. "Y-Yes, that's right." She waved stiffly to the two police officers. "We'll see you, Sasazuka-san, Ishigaki-san."

Once they were out of earshot, Sasazuka turned to his partner. "Ishigaki."

"Yes, senpai!"

"Is it just me," said Sasazuka, pulling out another cigarette and his lighter, "or is that assistant of Yako-chan's acting more—how would you put it? Close?"

"I would say touchy-feely," said Ishigaki.

Sasazuka nodded. "So you did notice. Not only that . . ."

"Hm?" Ishigaki watched as Sasazuka lit the cigarette and placed it in his mouth. "What is it, senpai?"

"Since when did he start calling Yako-chan by her first name?"