A/N: A big thank you to my beta, Amputation, who continues to encourage me to write.

Also, I'd like to express my gratitude to everyone who's reviewed! I'm glad I've managed to keep you entertained thus far. And without further ado, I present:

Chapter 3 – Rising Embers

"Kagari, it's me–"

"Sahashi. Feel free to let yourself in."

"Oh, okay!"

Tonight was Saturday night again – the second cycle of the Sleeping Schedule was well underway. The first cycle had been a glorious success, and the second served to reinforce the continuation of this success. Though not established enough to be called 'routine', my Sekirei and I were now settling into the beginnings of a rhythm. Little by little, we grew comfortable with the idea of taking turns and making concessions for the appointed Wife of the Night. The simple knowledge that they could look forward to the week's highlight had a wonderful calming effect on my Sekirei.

Perhaps my vision of a content, peaceful household would be realised sooner than I imagined.

The most noticeable difference took place in my interactions with Kagari. Since our conversation last week, we had relaxed around each other. While he remained as elusive as he'd always been, he no longer made a point of avoiding me or keeping our exchanges short. His newfound habit of watching me persisted, however – the few occasions I've managed to catch him at it had revealed a thoughtful, calculating gleam in his eyes. He was still assessing me.

But I had no intention of failing his assessment, whatever form that might take. Last week, I had glimpsed what our bond had the potential to be: a beautiful, steadfast friendship.

I wanted it. And unless I was horribly mistaken, he wanted it as well.

Therefore, it was with part eagerness and part trepidation that I pushed on the door to the Fire Sekirei's room for the second time. (The previous week had been all trepidation; this split was an improvement in and of itself.)

"Please give me a moment to finish this," was the first thing I heard upon entering his room.

His back to me, Kagari had apparently busied himself with the tidying of his bookshelves. On his desk lay an ever-shrinking pile of books, all of which underwent re-shelving. I wasn't surprised to find him clad in the same satin blue pyjamas that I'd seen the week prior.

He was done within a minute, slotting a thick biology tome into the final remaining space on the shelf. Satisfied with his efforts, he turned around to face me. Like last time, the uppermost two buttons of his top were undone, revealing the silver chain that rested underneath.

"Heya," I greeted him with a sheepish grin, which earned a quirk of his lips in return. Recalling the words he'd told me before dinner, I added, "You said not to bring my futon?"

"Yes, I've taken the liberty of readying one for you." He gestured to the two futons laid out on the ground.

The fact that he'd taken the initiative to prepare for my arrival brought a genuine smile to my lips. "Thanks for doing this for me. You certainly make a good host."

"Glad to be of service." He sketched an elegant bow, refraining (again) from following up with a kiss to my knuckles. But he almost did. Unlike our confrontation post-Proposal, he was far less guarded tonight, and I could sense his intent glimmering in the air between us.

I overlooked this unexpressed action, unsure what to make of it. Deciding to receive his gesture of goodwill with the appreciation it was due, I sat down on the futon he'd readied earlier.

Kagari emulated me, sitting down on his own futon. He'd assumed the same position as the previous week: legs crossed underneath him, pillow in his lap. There was no hair tugging this time, for which I was glad. As heart-warmingly vulnerable as that nervous habit made him, its absence meant that he was relaxed.

"Speaking of host," I turned curious eyes onto him, "you mentioned you used to work in a host club?"

He nodded. "It feels like a lifetime ago."

"Being a host sounds like a really cool job," I breathed, unable to keep the awe out of my voice. "I never had the self-confidence, charisma or looks for that kind of thing."

Kagari met my gaze with steady, sincere eyes. "Your confidence has grown a great deal since I've met you."

My hand automatically flew to the back of my head at the unexpected praise. "Doesn't stop me from feeling like a bumbling idiot around the others, sometimes," I muttered, sheepish.

"They are by no means ordinary women." He exhaled, throwing me a look that was both fond and exasperated. "You should give yourself some credit."

Was Kagari encouraging me? "Even so, I'd like to improve the way I approach them," I confessed, thinking of all the times I'd ruined a romantic moment with my untimely slips of ineloquence.

"I might be able to help you with that," he offered wryly.

"Oh yeah! You were the top host after all. You must know all the tricks of the trade when it comes to seducing women." I gave an awkward little laugh, scratching at my scalp again.

He cast a sidewards glance at me, and I saw – to my surprise – that his expression had turned wistful. "Indeed."

"Do you ever think about going back there?" I prompted.

"The work was enjoyable," he replied, a faint smile on his lips. "Being popular with the ladies had its benefits." He shot me a sly wink.

Mirroring his smile took very little effort. "You weren't professional with them in the strictest sense, were you?" I couldn't resist the urge to ask.

He took my question in stride. "If by that you mean I slept with my clients, then yes. Some of them."

"Were they beautiful?" Again, I couldn't help but ask.

The corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement. "My clients included the full gamut of Shintou Teito's female population – the ones who could afford my services, that is. But they were each lovely in their own way."

"Still professional even now, I see!" I exclaimed, impressed.

He flicked his hair in a self-satisfied manner. "I like to maintain high standards."

"Anyway," I said, seizing upon the next relevant point to maintain the flow of the conversation, "why did you decide to become a host in the first place?"

He paused for a moment before answering, a faraway light in his eyes. "Because I was a Sekirei searching for my Ashikabi."

"That didn't occur to me before," I wondered aloud, palming my chin, "but thinking back on it, it makes sense. By working at a host club, you would be exposing yourself to many people, wouldn't you? That would increase your chances to meet your Ashikabi."

"I would be exposing myself to many women, yes," he corrected me, not without a little primness. "I had hoped to find her – my Ashikabi – amongst my clients."

Upon hearing the words 'women' and 'her', I felt something dark and uneasy burgeon in the region of my abdomen. "I– I'm sorry for not being a girl?" I offered, not knowing what else to say.

"If it were a matter of preference," Kagari explained, seemingly oblivious to my sudden distress, "a female Ashikabi would've suited me better." He gave an ironic shrug of his shoulders. "But destiny doesn't work like that. My search turned out to be fruitless, after all."

The sensation intensified, spreading like cancer through my insides. A sickening realisation had occurred to me: I wasn't the one Kagari wanted. Or more specifically, I wasn't the correct gender.

"If only..."

"I could be winged by a woman?" he finished for me.

"Well, y-yeah," I croaked out, unable to shake off the overwhelming feeling of wrongness that had consumed me.

A furrow formed between Kagari's brows, and there was a hint of consternation in his voice as he spoke. "But that would mean I'd never have come to know you."

Why was he defending our union – which I'd finally recognised as an utter travesty? "Even if it meant that," I protested, "at least you'd have the chance to be with someone you truly desire!"

For a split-second, his wine-red eyes met mine, and I saw in his gaze something so intense that it felt like my soul was being pierced right through. But he was shaking his head the next moment, leaving me to wonder if I'd imagined it all.

"There's no use dwelling on possibilities," he reasoned. "You and I are winged – that is the irrefutable truth."

His calm, logical words only served to heighten my frustration. "But–"

"Silly Ashikabi," he interrupted; it was his almost familiar use of this expression that held me in check. "The fact that you are a man is something I've long since come to terms with. I do not regret being winged by you, Sahashi Minato."

"Really?" I bit out, incredulous. "You don't regret it?"

His reply came in a voice as unshakable as the gaze he gave me. "Not in the slightest."

What made him so certain? "But what about the times when you were with your clients?" I pointed out, refusing to capitulate. "Didn't you enjoy being with a woman?"

"Oh, make no mistake – I enjoyed being with them," he answered easily. "But while my experiences were pleasant," his tone took on a wistful quality, "they lacked something. However many women I met, flirted with and slept with," here, he placed his hand over his chest, "my heart remained empty. Incomplete."

"That's because they weren't your Ashikabi," I swallowed, feeling physically ill. "I was." No two worse words could've been spoken.

"Indeed," he said slowly, his brows knotted in confusion. "We are linked by destiny. Only you were able to bring peace to my restless soul."

What did it take to make him understand?! "I was able to bring peace to you. But happiness?" Propelled by the anguish that clamped vice-like around my heart, I reached out and grasped his shoulders. "Can you honestly tell me that you're happy right now?" I cried, shaking him harder with every word. "Completely happy? Like the others are?"

His wine-red eyes had gone wide with shock. "I…" he faltered.

"You can't, can you." It was not a question.

Kagari looked into my stricken face for a long, tense moment. Finding that he couldn't dispute my statement, he finally hung his head.

His expression of defeat brought me no satisfaction whatsoever. Feeling as though all the energy had drained out of me, I relinquished my grip on him, slumping to the ground.

Kagari couldn't say 'yes'. There was no way he could say 'yes'.

How could he possibly be happy?

He could never be with a woman – or anyone, period. Anyone but me. Whoever he met – even if he found them to be the most attractive person on the planet – didn't matter; he and I were irreversibly bound. They might have the most compatible of personalities, interests and worldviews, but he would never feel complete in their presence.

In other words, he was stuck with me for good.

The dilemma? I wasn't the right person for him.

The bond between an Ashikabi and his Sekirei was a mating bond. I had witnessed – was still witnessing – the truth of this statement firsthand. Even now, I couldn't deny that the looks Kusano gave me were becoming less sisterly and more… something I'd come to expect from my other Sekirei. 'The drive to find, protect and mate with their Ashikabi was all-consuming in Sekirei' – I had said it myself. How could I have deluded myself into believing that Kagari would be exempt from this principle?

Because you didn't want to deal with that on top of an already complicated relationship and five others like it, my inner voice supplied dutifully.

Under natural circumstances – insofar as 'natural' could apply to extraordinary beings like Sekirei – I would be his lover. However, Kagari preferred women – he'd even expressed the thought that 'a female Ashikabi would suit him better'. I couldn't begrudge him that, for I myself loved women. But the fact remained that I was not a woman, nor would I ever come close to resembling one. He couldn't be with me – not the way I was.

Even if he inexplicably broke out of that mould and developed feelings for me, nothing would come out of it. We were sexually incompatible. While he remained a man, I could not bring myself to look at him in anything beyond a platonic light. I wasn't attracted to men, dammit! While I had nothing against same-sex relationships, I wasn't gay, and I did not care to explore my sexuality in that realm. It represented a fundamental change to my character that was beyond my voluntary or willing capacity to bring about.

In the immediate aftermath of his winging, Kagari had asked if I would take responsibility. At the time, I had not given any consideration to his future relationship predicament – I was too concerned with saving his life. After all these years, I'd finally realised what he'd meant. As his Ashikabi, it fell upon me to ensure that Kagari achieved romantic fulfilment.

Instead, I had robbed him of it, leaving him in limbo.

Words could not begin to describe the horror I was feeling.

"As your Ashikabi, I'm useless." I slammed my fist against the ground, hot tears of guilt gathering at the corners of my eyes. "I want you to be happy, Kagari, I really do! But I'm not the right person – I can't ever be."

Apparently at a loss for answers, Kagari remained silent.

"If only there is something I could do for you…"

"Perhaps there is." His voice was so soft that I almost didn't hear him.

My head snapped up in an instant, my watery eyes meeting his wine-red ones. "What is it?" I implored, clutching onto his words like a lifeline. "What can I do to make you happy, Kagari?"

The Fire Sekirei startled at my question; it was clear he hadn't expected me to make him such an offer. But I saw his features soften into one of contemplation – albeit a conflicted one, if the vigorous hair twirling was any indication. It took him at least a minute before he settled on a phrase – the same phrase he had sworn to me four years ago when he became my Sekirei.

"Ikuhisashiku."

"Forever and ever?" I repeated. "Is that what you want of me?

"Yes."

"You want me to be by your side forever?" I repeated again, for emphasis.

His replying nod was sure, devoid of hesitation.

"Kagari, you already have that!" I exclaimed, wondering what could've possessed him to ask for something that was already his. "We made that pledge when we were winged. I will never back out on such an important promise."

"Truly?" he challenged, strangely insistent on this point.

I almost shouted; I was so vehement. "Truly."

Satisfied with my response, he closed his eyes. "Then that is all I ask for now." There was an odd finality to his words.

Bewildered, I could only stare at him.

Kagari's request was so inadequate that it made me want to tear my hair out. Why must he be so selfless? He'd asked for nothing when I would've given him the world – or whatever miniscule portion of it I could catch and bundle together in a gift for him. Was self-sacrifice so ingrained in his character that he would throw away even a half-hearted attempt at happiness?

I decided to take the matter into my own hands. Even if I couldn't grant Kagari romantic fulfilment, I could grant him the strongest of platonic loves: familial love. The love between brothers. It was the very least I could do for him.

"May I suggest something?"

Kagari reopened his eyes and caught my gaze, clearly listening.

"What if we become like... brothers?"

"Brothers?" He quirked a questioning eyebrow at me.

"I know it's only been the second time we've talked to each other like this," I elaborated. "But I already feel more connected to you than anyone else. That's not to disparage my relationship with the others, but they're – women," I flailed; surely that very word was self-explanatory! "You and I, on the other hand, we have a brotherly kinship going on."

Kagari looked away. "There remains much you don't know of me, and I of you."

"Exactly! That's why we should become brothers – the closest of friends," I asserted, pressing my hand against my heart and speaking in fervent tones. "You can confide in me about anything, and I can do the same with you. We can be there for each other. If one of us needs help with something, we can count on the other. We can hang out and do guy stuff together. It'll be between me and you – our own brotherhood pact!" I finished on a passionate note, enamoured with my vision of our relationship.

To my disappointment, my audience of one wasn't quite so receptive. "While I admit your idea is appealing," Kagari replied, tone wry, "I have one major point of contention."

I let out a heavy sigh. Whenever the Fire Sekirei was involved, I always managed to stuff up somehow. At least he didn't reject my idea in its entirety.

"Did I wrong-foot you again, Kagari?"

"In a way." He made a show of looking down his pyjama top, and I was once more reminded of the fact that Kagari had breasts. "'Brother' is technically incorrect."

Yeah, brothers don't usually have breasts, my inner voice piped up, causing me to smack my palm into my forehead. "God, I'm sorry! I completely forgot about that."

"That much is evident," he deadpanned, unamused.

I blinked; I didn't realise that my inattention to his – ahem – less masculine characteristics bothered him. "It's just that I've never thought of you as other than a man," I admitted. "I don't know what you're like in public, but you act like a guy when you're around me. I honestly don't think about the difference."

"Indeed." His frown made it evident that this was an important matter to him. What if he–?

"Would you… rather I did?" I offered tentatively, following through with that line of thought. "Notice the difference, that is?"

He considered my question for a moment. "Yes," he eventually replied, turning to look at me. There was acknowledgment in his eyes – I'd done something right. "But I'll leave that discussion for another night."

On my part, I was dumbfounded. Kagari no longer wanted me to look upon him as a man?

But everything about our relationship had been built on that premise! We were two guys – lone male comrades in a sea of gossipy females. We shared looks of exasperation whenever the others quibbled over something, we engaged in over-the-table conversation about work, science and politics, we watched each other's backs even as we kept our emotional distance. While said distance was a little distant – pardon the pun – for my liking, it was an otherwise typical arrangement between two male friends: comfortable, cordial, and devoid of sexual tension.

To change my perception of Kagari's gender would add a different dimension to our interactions (which I didn't care to examine at the present moment). Provided that I was capable of performing the switch in the first place. The notion that Kagari was a man was well entrenched in my mind, after all. It would take more than mere words to make me see him differently.

Even so, I could entertain the idea on an intellectual level if nothing else. Suppressing the automatic reflex to brand myself a pervert, I considered his most prominent feminine asset: breasts. Did Kagari want me to look upon him as a woman, then?

Why did I get the feeling that that wasn't the case, either?

Argh, to hell with it! My thoughts had been wrenched in enough directions tonight; surely my brain would implode if I pondered this matter any further. It wouldn't do to have Kagari scrape the remains of my skull off the walls, not when we'd finally made some progress towards getting to know each other.

If Kagari wished to make any further explanations, that was his responsibility. He did say he'd continue that discussion another night, didn't he?

"Okay. You can tell me whenever you're ready."

"I see I've perplexed you," Kagari tilted his head towards me, a hint of apology in his tone. "The conclusion you've made about my gender is understandable. I am partly to blame; I have not made any clarifications on the subject."

"We're leaving that for next time, aren't we?" Try as I might, I couldn't conceal the groan in my voice.

He let out a wry chuckle. "Indeed. As for your proposal, it would be fine with the aforementioned amendment."

So he still wanted our brotherhood – minus the 'brother' part. Argh. "If only I'd realised this sooner," I whimpered, clutching my head in mortification. "Now I feel like a complete idiot."

"Silly Ashikabi," Kagari said affectionately; that expression was starting to sound like a nickname. Leaning forward, he gave me a few conciliatory pats on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Now, I recall you wanted my advice about how to approach women?"

I perked up at this change of topic. No more confusing Kagari gender-bending business – at least for tonight. "T-That's right! Yeah, I'd appreciate any tips!"

"I have some you may find handy..."

The rest of the night passed in easy banter. I learned a great deal about women and the art of seduction; Kagari possessed a veritable wealth of knowledge and experience on the subject. While my admiration for him soared, I couldn't help but feel a little disheartened about my relative lack of sexual prowess. He never lorded it over me though, simply going through the particulars with a gentle patience that a master would direct towards his favourite disciple.

Afterwards, when we headed off to sleep, I gazed up at the ceiling and replayed the events of the evening in my mind.

Tonight's conversation had been disorientating, to say the least. We had leapt from the discussion about Kagari's previous life as a host, to my inability to cater for his partnership needs (my heart still ached from that), to my offering recompense for said inability, to my entertaining the foreign and out-of-the-blue notion that Kagari wasn't a man. My thoughts whirled around all these things, invariably returning to the concluding point:

Kagari wasn't a man.

Despite resolving not to do so earlier, I contemplated this statement. The physical evidence for it was irrefutable: Kagari had breasts and a figure with distinctive feminine curves, however slim. He'd even grown his hair to his shoulders and styled it accordingly, dispelling all chances to be interpreted as 'masculine'. His facial features were delicate, almost dainty: long, dark lashes framing wine-red eyes, an elegant mouth, a tapered chin. His contralto voice would best described as 'androgynous', but it verged on the female end of the spectrum whenever it climbed. From the viewpoint of a random stranger, Kagari was a woman, and a damn pretty one at that.

Argh, I did not just associate the words 'pretty' and 'woman' with Kagari! They felt so weird, so out of place – as though Kagari I knew had been replaced with this alien, female creature.

No more! I decided, putting the thought firmly out of my head. My mental circuits had been thoroughly scrambled tonight; at the rate I was going, I would work myself into a mental institution. Another time, he'd said. Another time we could begin reprogramming my perception of his gender – whatever the hell that was.

With that resolution set, I turned onto my side and closed my eyes. In contrast to the turmoil I'd endured earlier, my sleep was peaceful and untroubled.

I woke to the morning light descending on my eyelids. After a moment of bleary rubbing, I opened them and discovered – to my lack of surprise and slight disappointment – that Kagari wasn't around this time, either.

As I'd expected, his futon was already packed up, stashed away in the corner. The window was open, letting in the stream of light that had roused me from my slumber. Once again, my coverlet had been drawn up to my shoulders, despite my well-documented habit of throwing it off during the night.

While I appreciated that tender gesture, the fact that he was absent for the second time couldn't be a coincidence.

I had never known Kagari to be an early riser, so it couldn't be that. Surely he wasn't avoiding me? He'd seemed fine in the morning after last week's encounter – if anything, he'd been friendlier. Maybe he just needs some time to himself in the mornings, I told myself.

Deciding to leave that question for later, I paid a visit to the bathroom and performed my morning ablutions. A quick return to my room later saw me changed into my favourite daywear: the ever-popular wagtail T-shirt standby and a well-worn pair of jeans.

It didn't take me long to find Kagari – he was sitting at the dining table. Before him lay a mug of coffee and an opened paperback, the latter of which he was perusing. Upon moving into our new residence, he'd taken up the habit of reading during breakfast.

He looked up from his book as I walked into the room. "Morning, Sahashi," he greeted.

"Morning, Kagari," I returned his greeting, taking a seat across the table from him. "You're certainly up early today."

He favoured me with a faint smile. "I admit I'm not used to sleeping with someone else in the room."

I felt myself cringe – that statement couldn't be anything but a polite way of saying that I had disruptive sleeping habits. A closer inspection of his face revealed the telltale circles of sleep deprivation around his eyes.

"Am I that loud of a snorer?" I groaned, sinking my face into my hands. "Is that why you weren't around – I kept waking you up?"

He chuckled at my crestfallen expression. "Not at all. It's–"

Any further explanation on his part was cut off by Matsu's sudden entrance. Ginger plaits swaying, the Brain Sekirei flounced into the dining room, an expression of merriment on her face. Someone was cheerful this morning.

"Good morning, Mina-tan!" she confirmed my observation, chirping in a voice as bright as Musubi's. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Morning, Matsu," I called back. "Yeah, I slept great!"

"No thanks to the efforts of our favourite Fire Sekirei here, eh?" She gave me a mischievous wink, indicating Kagari with a tilt of her head.

I blinked, uncomprehending; surely Matsu must know that nothing of a carnal nature took place between him and I? "Wha–?"

My inarticulateness only triggered a bout of giggles from her. With a grin too wide to be innocent, she turned her attention onto my companion. Placing her hands on Kagari's shoulders – which earned a grimace of annoyance from him – she bent down, brushing her lips against his ear.

"So tell me, Homura-tan," she purred, "How did the night go with our studly stud of a husband?"

He wrung his shoulders, shaking her off. "That's between Sahashi and myself."

"But I want to know all the juicy details," she wheedled, undeterred. "It'll give me ideas for later experiments…" A thought occurred to her, and her grin took on a maniacal edge. "Unless Homura-tan has something he wants to hide?"

"What?" His voice was sharp, and I noticed that his eyes had widened a fraction more than mere surprise would warrant. "There is nothing to hide!"

Matsu must have noticed this as well, for she pushed up her glasses in a triumphant motion. "You're acting quite jumpy for someone with nothing to hide," she challenged, smirking.

In response, Kagari gathered his aloofness around him like a cloak. "I see your depraved imagination has addled your perceptions," he scoffed, punctuating his chilly delivery with a sniff.

"Stubborn, aren't you?"

"No more than you are pushy."

"Fine, be that way!" Matsu pouted. "I'll just check last night's surveillance videos…"

Her eyes took on a glaze that indicated she was scanning her computers with her ability. She managed no longer than a second when the loud snap of a shut book interrupted her. It was followed by the screech of a roughly pushed chair – Kagari had stood up. His hand snaked out, seizing her shoulder.

All pretence of coolness evaporated, Kagari loomed over the bespectacled Sekirei, using their five-inch height difference to his advantage. The glare he gave her was murderous. "If you mention even a word about our evening, you might find more than your hair singed..." A small flame burst into existence in his other hand.

"Aha! So I was right!" Matsu crowed. Her moment of victory was short-lived however, as she became aware of the flame's increasing proximity to her person. "Uh," her eyes flitted around frantically, and there was a distinct tremor to her words, "aren't you going to put that away?"

"On the contrary," Kagari growled, moving said flame dangerously close to her plaits.

She gave a high-pitched yelp of fright, wrenching herself out of his grasp and scrambling backwards. "W-What happened to the Anti-Violence C-Clause?" she spluttered.

"No one said anything against making threats." He stalked towards her, brandishing the flame menacingly.

"Mina-tan!" the Brain Sekirei shrieked, shooting a panicked look in my direction. "HELP!"

"Kagari!"

My cry of his name jolted the Fire Sekirei back to his senses. Having frozen still, he was now staring at the flame in his palm, as though he hadn't been aware of his actions up till a moment ago. A pink hue suffused his otherwise ivory complexion, and he closed his fist, extinguishing the flame with a whoosh.

"My apologies, Sahashi," he submitted, his tone one shade away from 'mortified'. "I forgot myself."

On my part, I felt only bafflement. This was the first time in my entire experience with Kagari that I've had to call him out on misconduct. "It's not like you to lose your temper so quickly, Kagari," I breathed, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.

"A momentary lapse," he conceded, lowering his eyes. "It won't happen again."

Deciding that staring at him wouldn't improve his state of mind (or provide any answers to my rapidly multiplying questions), I turned towards Matsu. In what was uncharacteristic behaviour for her, the bespectacled Sekirei remained silent. Instead, she was observing Kagari and I, her gaze darting back and forth between us. The playfulness and fright from a moment ago had vanished, replaced with a shrewd expression.

Okay, there was definitely something going on.

Before I could open my mouth to ask Matsu what that something was, Tsukiumi burst into the scene. It was clear that she'd been making her way towards the kitchen; catching wind of the recent squabble between the two Sekirei had only hastened her approach.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded of the room at large, arms akimbo. "I thought I saw a flame, and I definitely heard Matsu scream. Homura," she rounded on the Fire Sekirei, "you're responsible for this, aren't you? Are you going against our husband's orders?"

Seeing Kagari's mouth tighten at Tsukiumi's words, I made the split-second decision to intervene on his behalf. "Don't worry, Tsukiumi," I cajoled, not eager to involve the pugnacious Water Sekirei in this little dispute, "I've put an end to it."

She harrumphed, still giving Kagari the suspicious eye. "If you say so, Husband. Since you three are already here," she continued, retrieving her apron from a nearby hook and turning towards the pantry, "I shall get started on breakfast."

The next minute was filled with the click-clacks of moving cookware and utensils as Tsukiumi busied herself in the kitchen. Believing the crisis averted, Kagari shot me a grateful look and reclaimed his seat opposite me. To his scowling chagrin, Matsu took the seat beside him. She proceeded to try and get his attention with whispers and pointed stares, but he had reopened his book and was now reading with a fierce determination, ignoring her.

I watched them, my bemusement soaring in the same fashion as my eyebrows.

Was Matsu correct? Was there something Kagari wanted to hide? What about last night's events was so incriminating that maintaining its secrecy would drive him to violence? It couldn't be about him wanting me to see him as other than a man. Hell, the others probably knew more about that than I did, if their numerous (failed) attempts to stuff him into a dress were any indication. However, we did discuss various techniques of seduction, most of which was tailored towards specific women in this household–

I gulped, sudden heat rising in my cheeks.

Matsu rounded on me in an instant. "Mina-tan, why are you blushing?"

I waved my hands in frantic denial. "It's n-n-nothing!"

"Who's blushing?" boomed Tsukiumi's imperious voice; she'd suddenly materialised at the dining table with a ladle in hand. In that moment, her resemblance to the landlady of Maison Izumo was so uncanny that me, Matsu and Kagari all did a double take.

Indeed, Kagari wasted no time in pointing out this observation. "Tsukiumi, it's scary how much you look like Miya right now…"

The Water Sekirei blinked, taking the bait. "I look like Ooya-dono?"

In the background, I saw Matsu purse her lips in irritation. It dawned on me that Kagari was creating a diversion; perhaps he sought to repay the favour from before?

"It must be the ladle," he directed a canny little nod towards the item in question. "And the apron. And the fact that you'd practically teleported here…"

Tsukiumi frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe she's rubbed off on me more than I'd thought…"

"Are you sure that's a good thing?"

"What do you mean, that's not a good thing?"

Sure enough, their exchange devolved into inane chatter about Miya's less endearing habits. Even Matsu joined in, lamenting the many occasions the infamous Hanya mask had interrupted her lofty undertakings (read: molestation attempts on me). Eventually, the initial point of interest – my blushing – was all but forgotten. While part of me was glad for this outcome, the rest was cowering in fear, expecting the landlady to appear at any moment. Nevermind the fact that she couldn't hear us; it was surely bad karma to gossip about someone like her–!

Having arrived at this same conclusion, Kagari decided to redirect the Water Sekirei's attention once more. "Tsukiumi, shouldn't you go back and check your cooking?"

Her eyes grew wide. "Oh. Y-You distracted me, Homura!" she pointed at the Fire Sekirei, who gave an unrepentant shrug in reply. "It'll be your fault if Minato's breakfast is ruined!" Turning to me, she bobbed her head in a quick bow. "Please excuse me, Husband."

With that, Tsukiumi scurried back to the kitchen.

Following her departure, Kagari shot me a glance. It was so brief that I almost missed it, but I caught something significant – almost conspiratorial – in his gaze.

Somehow, I got the feeling that things would become very interesting from herein.