When Himiko slipped into Ginji's bedroom late that night, closely followed by Shido and Kazuki, she bit her lips until they bled to hold back her laughter. She wasn't the kind of girl who laughed at just anything, but the position the Get Backers had got themselves into was more than even her equanimity could compensate for. Ginji lay on his stomach, but had twisted himself completely around in the bed. His feet were propped up on his partner's bared chest, one of which Ban had wrapped a long-fingered hand around. Blond spikes poked out from the comforter on her side of the bed, nearest the door. An arm dangled almost to the floor.

Ban's head was turned to the side, toward Ginji, and he was drooling on the pillow.

Shido came up behind her, and snorted. "Bastard," he said in a low voice. There was, Himiko noted, a flash of humor in his eyes, despite his affirmed distaste.

Kazuki, on the other hand, seemed pleased. Ginji was comfortable, happy, and that seemed a good enough reason for his former King to let his partner's irritating idiosyncrasies pass.

Himiko considered snapping a picture with her phone, but decided against it. The flash would wake Ban up, and she remembered enough of their life together to know that he only drooled when he was actually sleeping hard, something he seldom did. Guy was the most nervous sleeper she had ever met. It would be cruel to interrupt what had to be an extremely rare sense of security. Or, perhaps, a rest so desperately needed that even a light sleeper like Ban was out cold.

Sometimes she hated him, completely understood Shido's impatience with his condescending superiority and his mouthy brilliance. This was not one of those times. Just now, with his hair down like it was back then, with that self-congratulatory smirk replaced by a slack-lipped weariness, clinging to the only really constant thing in his world - just now, she didn't have the heart even to dislike him.

Shido and Kazuki had left her alone in the doorway, content that their old friend was sleeping soundly. Himiko lingered, watching the boys sleep. She permitted herself a small, private smile. Only someone like Ginji could stick with a guy who had Ban's atrocious luck. Or his atrocious attitude. And she was glad for it. There was no one else who had the patience to bear Ban's curse, even among the few who might have cared enough about him to try.

The sleeping Serpent-Bearer stirred, and Himiko shrank away from the door, holding her breath. But though a brief, slight grimace twisted his mouth, and a vague discontent revealed itself in his brows, his eyes remained closed. Himiko let out her breath as his restlessness dissipated. He was still holding onto Ginji's big foot.

"Sweet dreams, you big dummy," she murmured, and closed the door on the sleeping Get Backers. Tomorrow, or the next day, it would begin again. The car would be towed, and everything Ban had earned on this mission would be lost on parking fines and speeding tickets. Hevn would show up with some ridiculous assignment any fool could see meant trouble. Some shadow from the past would rise up to strike at the King of the Evil Eye, and Ban would once again find himself in the ugly, unenviable predicament of choosing between what was easy, what was sensible, and what was right. And when he made the right call, he'd be left empty-handed and down on his luck. Just like always.

Tonight was only a brief lull in the war the universe seemed determined to wage against him. But he had beside him someone who trusted him implicitly and believed in him absolutely, and whom he accorded the same unique honor. It was enough. It might not be a year from now, or two years from now, but for the moment, it was enough.

Blue woke to a soft, unfamiliar whimpering. Wriggling over the mattress to where she was, he prodded her back with his nose. She turned over and wrapped her forelimbs around him, burying her short, squashed-looking muzzle into his neck. It was wet, like it was sometimes after she got out of the bath.

He nuzzled the long fur on the top of her head and licked the space between her eyes, softly barking a question at her. Sometimes she answered.

Not that he understood everything she told him. She was complicated, but that was alright, most of the time. He got the gist of the important things she said, and the signals she made with her strangely shaped front paws. Follow me. Let go of that. Run away. Find it. Stay where you are. Sleep.

She never used that other command, and he was glad for it. He would obey her without question if she did, but she never had. They had practiced it together, more than once, but never with anything that bled. He loved her for that as much as anything.

She continued to whimper into his shoulder, that puppy-like, repetitive whine that was so unlike her usual voice. Not sure how best to comfort her, he rested his snout on top of her head. Her wet eyes were dripping into his fur.

"I should never have gone back to Shinjuku. I knew better." She tightened her embrace around his shoulders. "Too many goddamn ghosts."

The man she commanded him to guard had hurt his back, which was the only reason Blue had bitten him, but he suppressed a reflexive whimper as her paws dug into the bruised flesh. She would be sadder if she knew he was hurt, and she was already breaking his heart.

As the sun rose over Chuo, Blue watched light pour into the apartment and huffed a sigh of disappointment. They usually ran together when the sun came up, but she hadn't slept well, and he knew better than to ask.

Ah, well. His back hurt anyway. He snuffled her hair resignedly before turning away, to settle his head on the front paw she wasn't laying on top of, and listened to her cry.