AN: So, another plot bunny showed up. I'm going to leave this labeled as complete because I don't want to promise something that is not a guarantee. However, if I get more ideas for this set of one-shots, I'll add to it.

I'm not Japanese, and I can't draw. Safe to say I don't own KHR

They had a very short list of people they were willing to be stuck in the middle of the woods with and an injured prince and a baby officer were not on that list. At least...they hadn't been.

They looked down into the clearing from their perch on an oak tree branch. The grass was dry and near colorless in the early morning light and curled underneath a lean-to built from sticks and bootlaces at the center of the clearing were the Cloud and Storm officers lying on top of their Varia uniform jackets. They huffed in amusement at the knot the two made, though both would deny being so close in sleep when they finally awoke. Nuage was curled almost in the foetal position on her left side, head pressing against Belphegor's chest, hands tucked against her own, and her top leg was thrown over the prince's own half-curled legs, the top one more stretched out than the other due to the splint on it. Belphegor was wrapped around his fellow officer, his legs tucked a few inches under Nuage's feet, one arm thrown over the girl's torso, and his head turned towards Nuage's hair, which was half out of her careful braid from the night before, using his outstretched arm as a pillow.

A twig snapped, and they whipped their head in the direction of the sound. A moment of silence passed. They relaxed slightly and allowed their thoughts to steal their attention once more.

It should have been an easy mission; it was actually an easy mission. The three had gone in, gathered the information they had come for, and taken care of the man they had been paid to kill. In and out, nice and clean. Except, they had only gotten about fifteen minutes away when knowledge of their infiltration began to ripple through the underworld. Instead of the planned getaway, they had had to resort to traveling back to headquarters as the crow flies which would have been fine if Belphegor hadn't broken his leg, for seemingly no reason.

They had been perched on Belphegor's shoulder as Nuage and he ran through the woods that were close enough to headquarters to be used semi-frequently to train the mooks when Belphegor had pitched forward with a yelp, twisting around as he did so and knocking them off. They had managed to cushion their fall with a quick illusion, but they were still jarred when they landed on the dead October grass. Nuage had run past the two by a few strides before she slowed and jogged back, sliding to her knees beside Belphegor who was hissing and biting his bottom lip as he tried to stand again.

Nuage had glanced over at them first, nodding when Fantasma changed into an ouroboros and they hovered above the ground at face level. "Stop," she had said, gently pushing Belphegor back against the ground. "You're going to hurt yourself more."

"The prince does not need your help, peasant!" Belphegor had spat as he shoved Nuage's hands away. The Cloud had simply pulled her hands back and rested them on her thighs, watching the Storm try once more to stand. He had managed to get one leg underneath himself and push upwards into a standing position. Nuage had kept her eyes on the ground where the prince had fallen as Belphegor took a step forward and immediately crumpled to the ground again with an unspoken whine.

"Still don't need my help?" Nuage had asked without looking at the Storm.

Belphegor had hissed at her in return and crossed his arms, looking away from her. Nuage had lifted her eyes to theirs and shrugged after a moment passed. She had then stood and brushed the grass and dirt off her pants with a practiced hand, turning from them and walking carefully to the edge of the clearing. She had hummed aimlessly as she stepped, almost tip-toeing, across the dead grass and the fallen leaves scattered about.

They had floated over the to the prince, who was very carefully not looking at either them or the girl who was collecting fallen branches amongst the trees. His arms had been crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed slightly. "I don't need her help."

"Don't need or don't want?"

Belphegor had huffed but looked at them out of the corner of his eye. "She's a peasant, Mammy. Princes don't need help from peasants."

They had looked over at the girl who was carefully setting up the basic framework of a lean-to in the center of the clearing before looking back at the prince who was also watching her. "Myu, is she really?"

Belphegor had tilted his head away from Nuage and jerked his shoulders in what could barely be called a shrug. He had remained silent for a moment, the only sound being the occasional curse Nuage let out as she put the lean-to together.

"If you're just going to sit there, the least you could do is use your wires to set up a perimeter," Nuage had called out. Belphegor had sent a glare back towards the girl but did as she suggested, sending knives flying around the clearing to pierce the sentry trees, the wire between them becoming a dangerous barrier to any who would attempt to enter the clearing.

Bel had suddenly turned towards them after Belphegor's mission was complete. "Well what would you call her?" he had demanded.

"Let her splint your leg."

Belphegor's lips had curled back as the boy glared at them.

"That's my price."

Bel had sighed. "Fine," he had said loudly.

Nuage had finished tying the last part of the frame together with her bootlaces before walking over to the prince with a long stick with the diameter of an American quarter in her hand. She had laid the stick beside Belphegor's broken leg and pulled off her jacket, ripping the bottom half of her shirt off and ripping that further into three strips which she used to tie the stick to the boy's leg. "I wouldn't walk on it," she had said as she did so. "But it should hold until someone finds us or we manage to get to Headquarters."

Belphegor had simply nodded at the girl. "Need the laces?" he had asked.

"I wouldn't say no."

After Nuage had walked back over to the partially constructed lean-to with Belphegor's bootlaces, Bel looked at Mammon. "Well?"

"An enigma," they had replied. "I would call her an enigma."

Bel had accepted their answer with an acknowledging tilt of his head as they both watched the girl set up a small camp for the night.

An enigma was right, they thought as the gray light of early morning began to shift into the golden colors of dawn. The girl refused to fit into the mold that they kept adjusting and reforming to fit her.

A branch snapped not too far from the campsite, waking the two teens who reached for their weapons as Mammon prepared illusions to trap the intruders in. Belphegor flicked a knife in the direction of the sound as the first to react.

"VOI! It's us, you shitty pieces of trash!"