I slumped weakly at the man's side. He was still fully unconscious, and if Rio were here I would have cursed him for not being more helpful. As it is, I was going to have to lift this guy in a fireman's carry. I think of myself as strong, but he had to weigh nearly 80 kilos. I sighed, I was not up for this, but I had no choice. I had to get him far away from here, and safe.

Another thought occurred. Where was I supposed to take him? A hospital? What reason could I give? Would the people running around here take care of him? They might, but for sure that Itadori kid would ask a lot of questions. Questions I didn't know how to answer and I could not just leave him and hope for the best.

"I have questions for you too," I growled at Rio. I could feel his uneasiness and snorted.

I had to go to my apartment. I could take care of him there, and if he didn't want to stay, Chiba was close enough for him to escape without being at too large a loss. With the decision made I sighed loudly.

I tucked his arms close, and with a grunt of effort rolled him to his stomach. I knelt at his head, another too-tired-for-this groan gusted through my teeth as I pushed my arms under his and held him in a tight embrace. Then, using my legs like a very smart girl, I lifted him. He slumped over my shoulder now, and I shifted my weight to my right leg and wedged it between his legs. Grabbing his right hand with my left, I pushed under him and wiggled until his arm was all the way around my neck, and he felt centered on my back. I lifted him and trudged toward the elevator.

The elevator lifted us all the way to street level without stopping. It worried me, and when it opened, my fear and confusion redoubled. People were milling around. Some looked a little dazed, but I watched in baffled fascination as a train arrived, disgorged passengers, and reloaded.

"What the actual hell is going on?" I spoke aloud, but there was no one to answer me. Below, the basements were empty - except for people like me. The dead ex-humans and spirits that did not belong there.

I was familiar with everyday spirits. They haunted places where there were a lot of humans with their share of emotional baggage. Small spirits, doing nothing but watching people pass, not able to do much beyond touching the odd human, more likely just swaying to their internal music.

Nothing like the patchwork demon. I had decided that he was something else. I was sure that the boy was fighting him. I hoped he won and that I would never see a spirit like that again.

With a final glance at the deserted elevator I dragged my burden to the train schedule. It looked like I could start my journey right over there, one I knew well. With another noisy sigh I pulled my prize to the fourth platform, paid for two high speed tickets and readied myself for almost two hours of babysitting this unconscious man on public transport.

"He'll probably sleep for at least a day." Even internally, Rio's voice was faint with exhaustion. "I am truly sorry, Tori."

"You owe me explanations. I'm very mad at you, Rio." I was exhausted, too. But I'd had training for this kind of thing. I flung my passenger toward the window and scooted in next to him before arranging his limbs to make him look like he was just sleeping.

We were covered in blood, other assorted body fluids, and thick black smears. Fortunately it was… well it was November 1st according to our ticket, but we were still close enough to Halloween to give our clothing a pass. Massive blood stains being somewhat harder to explain most of the year. I leaned back, put my head on my burden's shoulder, and fell asleep.

One train change and another nap later, I was able to call an Uber to my apartment. The driver was only a little bit of a pain about my 'drunk friend'. I promised to pay him triple if he threw up and got him inside with little ceremony. At my apartment I lifted him again and with the doorman's help managed to get him inside.

I leaned close to the floor, and rolled him as gently off my back as I dared. I dug knuckles into the small of my spine, stretching and yawning. Slowly, I toed off my sneakers and slipped into my house shoes. I knelt near him, and considered what to do next.

He lay on his side now, and did look like he'd just blacked out after a rager. He was splattered with blood and blackened by soot, though I could only guess that was what those black stains were. He looked burned the first time I lay eyes on him, but now his eyes were closed and he was legitimately sleeping like the dead. I let loose another bone rattling sigh.

I only had my bed and a couch. Unfortunately I had the feeling I wasn't going to be able to just put him on my sofa. My spirit tanked as I watched a fine shiver run over his skin. Although I was desperate to sleep I needed to stay close to monitor him. I grabbed him again, and in lurches got him to my platform bed. The only comfortable surface that would fit us both.

It took just one try to get him situated. I frowned as I watched him shiver for real. I glanced at the ceiling, wondering what I was supposed to do. Had I known that I was going to be sharing my bed, I'd have changed the sheets. Had I known I was going to have to undress him to help, I might have just dragged him to the nearest hospital and left him on the doorstep.

His shoes slipped off and I briefly debated pulling off his socks, but they were stiff with flaking blood too, so off they went. I scooted up on the bed, and unbuckled his belt, my cheeks heating enough to make me uncomfortably aware of him. I had definitely removed clothes from a man in the course of my job, but I wasn't snipping with my trauma shears. I unbuttoned his slacks with small movements and slipped them off as well.

My insides were squirming with nerves. Slowly I peeled out of my thoroughly trashed sweater. I kicked off my slippers before pulling off my wrecked jeans. I stood, clad only in my jersey boy-shorts, and firmly told myself to stop being a child.

The man was hurting, though he was sound of body, and for the next few days, he'd probably feel like he couldn't get warm. He was shivering; his face showed the pain clearly. I did the only thing I could do.

"Don't get any ideas, dude." I smiled at him, his blond hair, what remained of it, was still sticky with drying blood and stained black with soot.

Ignoring both my niggling squeamishness over sleeping with a stranger and the fact that I was nearly naked, I climbed into bed with him. He was warm, hot really, but he had been seared to the bone when I saved him. His body remembered the heat. I slipped one arm under his neck, and then hugged him close, entwining my legs with his.

He gradually calmed and innocently snuggled close, his own arms instinctively readjusting to hold me tight. I settled into his embrace and fell into a deep sleep.

Kento

Sunlight through a window, and I was still too tired for this amount of daylight. I was warm, comfortable, and ready to go right back to sleep. I tightened my arms around a warm weight and smiled.

Then my brain short circuited. I'm not ashamed to admit that I do not often find a woman in bed with me in the morning. My eyes snapped open and in just under two seconds I realized that something either very good or extremely bad had happened. The woman was slumbering in the deepest of sleep.

I lifted the sheet. She was nude, at least what I could see of her. The design of some sort of tattoo curved her hip. My eyes followed the line of her back, well-toned musculature flowed smoothly up to her red hair. It was arched over her face, in one spot tacked to her cheek in a streak of dried blood. I had never intentionally hurt a woman while doing something very good, so judging by the depth of my exhaustion added to the fact that I've never felt better, something extremely confusing had happened.

I could not stop my head from falling back on pillows that weren't mine. I was truly tired, my entire body felt trapped in rock. Nevertheless I had to do the unthinkable and wake the girl. I lifted my hand again and she shifted. Uptilted deep brown eyes blinked open. They were startled, my own unease redoubling.

She clutched the sheet to her chest, "You're awake!" She smiled, "Thank god. Seriously. Are you okay?"

"Do I know you?"

She shook her head, "No. Do you remember last night?"

I started to shake my head. This was bizarre. If I didn't know her, what was I… Then the memories flooded back. Being ordered to Shibuya Station. Dispatching Ino and Megumi. Finding Ijichi and then thrashing that kid before finding Team Zenin. The sheets shook in my hands.

Fighting Dagon and his killer shikigami. The nightmare of confronting Jogo. At this a fine shiver ran over my skin. I could remember it. Intense heat and pressure, more than a human should be able to bear. I looked at my hands, now quivering. My eyes closed, and I was breathing like I had run from Shibuya to wherever I am now. I could feel the lava burning through me. I felt myself start to shut down.

"Oh no," she said, wrapping her arms around me. "Calm down, okay? Can you lay down with me?" I opened my eyes in shock, but nodded dumbly, allowing her to pull me back to the mattress. I trembled, feeling cold to the bone.

She was a tiny thing, but she held me tight, holding my head against her body. She was talking, soft and nonsensical as I continued to shake. I listened to her heart, steady and strong until I fell back asleep.

AN/ If you only watched the anime, then you probably don't know what happened to poor Kento, but from this chapter on, it's completely my fanfic.

If you read the manga, then I hope I changed just enough to keep continuity for everyone else! I hope you can enjoy a world with Nanami still in it.

I read an article on this, phantom chill is a real condition in patients who've had severe burns. Earth nerds unite! Lava is above ground, magma is underground.

For tacitly telling me I got the details right, thanks to my sweet beta, Mosevic.