He can feel her, pacing outside the veil like a tigress. Why she hasn't shattered the barrier keeping her out puzzles him. Has he misjudged her strength? No, that's not it. He's vaguely aware of her cursed energy, pressing in, seeking a weak point. He deduces that the barrier is not keeping her out specifically, but special grade sorcerers. Pity. He's hoping to test Gojo's mettle.

It's been millennia since he's danced with any of the Big Three clans.

His thoughts return to the matter at hand: this little cursed spirit, barely a child in his eyes, that presumes it has any right to touch the very essence of him. He feels it, the thing's awkward and bumbling hands cupping the brat's soul, fingertips brushing against his. That, he doesn't mind.

It's when the spirit uses its innate ability to reshape the soul that Sukuna decides it's time to pull an ear or two.

The little spirit stands there, looking as shocked and dumb and ridiculous. For a moment, Sukuna looks down at him, disgust making his next words bitterer than winter.

"You dare to touch my soul?"

The spirit does not answer, seemingly paralyzed. Sukuna does not move from his throne of blood and bone. He does not need to: his presence within his innate domain is absolute. There is nothing this little upstart can do to him, and while he inhabits this brat's body, nothing he can do to Yuji either.

"I will allow it this once for the sake of us having a good laugh at the expense of the brat," he continues, ignoring the stupefied expression on the spirit's face.

"There will be no second time."

He dismisses the spirit without waiting for a reply, not caring what happens next. Let it kill the other sorcerer, so long as the brat lives long enough for his plans to come to fruition. It is not his concern whether or not others perish in his pursuit of his goals, only that he achieves them.

He watches from his throne as the brat gains a second wind, joining the other sorcerer in the battle. Idly, Sukuna nudges the brat's cursed energy numbing the pain receptors in his wounds to allow him to fight longer. He will tell no one this, and the brat himself likely isn't even aware he's doing it, but it is enough. He'll not help the brat beyond making sure he's still breathing.

He does enjoy seeing the two sorcerers beat the little spirit all over creation. It's a shame all three parties are so abysmally weak, he might even give them a nod. The real challenge is pacing around outside the veil, and he realizes he's agitated that she has not opted to unleash her strength.

Why does she limit herself?

Sukuna is about to shut his eyes and retreat into his inner meditations when he sees the cursed spirit attempt his first domain expansion. The brat is smart enough and fast enough (with Sukuna's gentle urging) to get out of range, but the other sorcerer becomes trapped within the barrier. Well, so much for that weakling. Sukuna wagers whatever is left of him will be horrifying enough to scar the brat, at least. It gives him some degree of comfort to think about.

The veil shudders. Sukuna closes his eyes and smirks in the diffused crimson darkness of his domain.


Roxanne recalls hers and Nanami's first spar.

It was the first time she remembered feeling out of her depth with regards to technical expertise in jujutsu.

"Your technique lets you land critical hits," Roxanne says, annoyed. "How am I supposed to counter something like that when you're guaranteed to break anything on my body with a well-placed swing?"

Nanami tests the heft of his cursed tool, rolling out a kink in his wrist.

"You counter it any way you can in the most efficient way you can think of," he tells her. "You waste a lot of cursed energy trying to power your attacks instead of distributing it evenly across your body. Like so."

Roxanne scrunches her nose but she can see it: Nanami's cursed energy flows like a river through the channels of his soul, building in points of his body where he directs it like traffic. She understands now that it can be used to reinforce the body as well as power conventional jujutsu attacks. She also realizes Nanami is strong as fuck.

As a test, she hits him, and yelps when she's met with the equivalent of a brick wall.

"Holy shit!" She cries. "Man fuck that Limitless shit Gojo is on teach me how to do that shit."

Nanami smiles. "You're already doing it, just subconsciously. But I can show you how to do it efficiently. You have an immense well of cursed energy."

Roxanne's cheeks flush. She doesn't know why.

"Show me," she says, and there's a softness in her tone, a willingness to learn where she is otherwise usually so stubborn. Nanami smiles, and takes a step toward her.

"The key is in the breath techniques," he says. "All your cursed energy comes from here, in the center. It's the nucleus around which the galaxy that is you rotates."

"Yeah, yeah," Roxanne says but she's grinning, "I know all that. But how do I keep it flowing without getting exhausted?"

Nanami shows her, walks her through the technique of breath control. Roxanne feels the noise of her mind calm under his tutelage, and she feels a difference. The flow of her cursed energy feels smoother, as if something has been cleared away with her breathing.

"Ayo, Nanami," she says, lifting her hand to observe the ghostly flames of her energy licking around her fingers with renewed wonder. "Did you just unlock my chakras?"

Roxanne grins hard as she feels the veil begin to crack and give way beneath her power. In a few moments it will shatter, and she will tear into that school and eat that fucking cursed spirit for dinner and be back home in time for a joint, some ramen, and maybe an anime or two before bed.

And then she's going to talk to Yuji about not trying to save every goddamn stray that wanders into his path. He will break his own heart and spirit that way. But…she cannot help but admire that in him. She has her own people that she keeps close to her heart.

Well, she has one.

The veil's defenses crack like spiderwebs across its curved surface, and she draws in a deep breath, focusing her cursed energy, drawing from the rich inner world that is her innate domain. On her next exhale the veil shatters.

Somewhere, Sukuna is laughing.

Roxanne's journey to join Itadori and Nanami in the battle is waylaid by disfigured humans, their souls warped and corrupted beyond true recognition. Roxanne steels her resolve, pushing the memory of those croaking pleas for help from her mind, and focusing on the fight. Eventually, only the satisfying squelch of flesh and blood, wet and viscous over her hands, is all that matters.

She grins, her blood singing as she slays, gold nails stained with crimson and dripping with gore. She carves a bloody path to her companions, and is horrified to come upon them in the midst of the worst case scenario.

Yuji is banging his fist on the barrier of what Roxanne instantly knows to be a domain. Her heart is racing, her blood a high-pitched whine in her ears. She sees Itadori turn to see her, notes his brief surprise at her appearance, and then his lips move, but all she hears is the high-pitched whine in her ears, and all she sees is the perfect sphere of a domain expansion, and no Nanami in sight.

The back of her neck prickles, and the whining grows higher in her ears and finally stops, abrupt as a throat cut.

Roxanne blinks, and Itadori's voice rises in her ears. He's got her by the shoulders, pointing frantically at the domain's barrier.

"Can you break it?" He asks and Roxanne takes a moment before her mind settles, the mechanism turning once more. The back of her neck prickles briefly, and she shivers. Itadori releases her shoulders.

"It's a domain expansion," she explains, her voice regaining confidence. "Not so easy to dispel once active."

"We have to try!" Itadori says firmly, but there's a plaintive note in his voice that makes Roxanne meet his gaze. She watches him, takes in his earnestness. He wants to save Nanami as badly as she does, but she can't afford to consider the worst might have already happened.

No. She cannot allow herself to consider it. Even Nanami can find a way to buy himself time within a domain expansion. She remembers his blood, dripping warm over her hands, the ugly wound along his side. It had been worse than he let on, and she remembered her heart in her throat when Shoko told her the extent of the damage. That had been from a mere touch from this creature.

A domain expansion will destroy him utterly.

"Okay," Roxanne says, panic making her mind work overtime. "Okay. If he's trapped inside, then it should be weaker from outside. Like breaking into prison. Itadori, I need you to put all of that cursed energy of yours into your fists. And then bang on that motherfucker like you got a warrant, you got me?"

Itadori nods, his gaze determined. He bounds off, and Roxanne watches his cursed energy flare brightly, like a gas lamp given fresh oil, or a fire that's received a spray of gasoline. She makes a note to tell him to learn how to hold the reins of control. He's still spilling excess energy unused.

But the boy is effective. Every punch is true, and he proceeds to beat the walls of the domain like he indeed has a warrant. Roxanne draws in a deep breath. The moment the domain is dispelled she will activate her own and crush this upstart little cursed spirit until it is nothing but a mere footnote in her weekly report. Her hands form the mudras necessary to begin activation.

Itadori shatters a hole in the domain, vanishing inside. What happens next shocks Roxanne, though in hindsight she suppose it should not have been so shocking.

There is silence, but she knows that Itadori is buying time. The domain has not completely dispelled yet, and yet there is a gathering tension, like a gun being cocked. The prickle on the back of her neck becomes an ant march on her skin, and she feels him as surely as a brush of fingertip, even from outside a domain expansion's barrier.

Sukuna .

Even this brief appearance is enough to give her considerable pause. His power is immense, even with only three of his Fingers consumed. She begins to wonder if maybe Satoru has underestimated this man.

The domain's barrier glows along the fault lines of perfect cuts before it shatters. Roxanne sees Nanami, alive and intact, as well as Itadori, but no longer feels Sukuna's presence. Christ.

The cursed spirit is laying on the ground in a pool of its own blood, a deep gash laying its shoulder open to the bone. Roxanne makes her way toward it. It sees her, feels the pressure of her cursed energy, mismatched eyes rolling around like a dumb animal in pain. Then, it begins to change shape, turning into liquid flesh. Roxanne and Nanami pursue it as it speeds away, but it melts down a drain before either of them can lock on and destroy it.

Damnit.

"Are you good?" Roxanne asks Nanami, but her eyes express what she cannot find the words to voice. Nanami nods, and she sees no blood that belongs to him. He's so good at keeping his suits clean even doing the bloody work of fighting curses. Meanwhile, Roxanne knows she looks like she belongs on the set of a horror film.

Nanami makes a call, reporting the mission's failure to Ijichi to pass along to Gojo. Roxanne looks back at Itadori, who has not moved. He is staring at the pool of blood the cursed spirit left behind. She goes over to him, the adrenaline giving way to weariness.

"Hey," Roxanne says to him. "You did good back there. Try not to beat yourself over it."

Itadori doesn't look at her at first, only his hands. It's only then she notices his wounds. How he's still stan—

He slides to his knees, and she moves quickly as he slumps over.

"Kento!" She calls, and Nanami does not hesitate, sprinting toward her. He takes a look at her first, confirming she's uninjured, before he examines Itadori.

"Can you use RCT?" He asks, already calling Shoko. Roxanne shakes her head. She can heal herself—a difficult enough task on its own—being able to transfer that to another being is something she has not been able to master. She wonders why Sukuna does not manifest to heal his vessel. Surely he knows that if the boy dies, so too does he? Of course, there's plenty of Fingers out there, and very few potential vessels that aren't cursed spirits.

"What of the other boy, Junpei?" Roxanne asks. Nanami's mouth is a grim line and Roxanne has her answer. The boy had to have been Itadori's age.

They are going to kill him when this is all over. The thought marches across her mind, a stark reminder of how this boy's story will end. In heartbreak, and a premature death.

Ijichi picks them up, and Roxanne sits in the back, Itadori resting on her lap. She monitors his condition, her cold and clammy skin, and his weak pulse. The rain is coming down, making traffic slower, making their drive longer. Nanami glances at Roxanne on occasion, and finds himself wishing he'd rode in the back with her. He hates to dwell on the unnecessary but holding her hand feels like it's necessary right now. He has come face to face with his own death in a way that he never has before.

Roxanne wants to speak, but her mouth opens and the car around her fades to crimson. She is pulled downward, into the innate domain of Sukuna, landing on her knees, supporting herself in the shallow salton sea of blood on her hands. She climbs to her feet quickly, hackles raised.

"What…?" She whispers, and finds the mountain of skulls, and Sukuna seated atop them, his throne. His domain.

"We meet again, little sorceress," he says, his voice deep and resonant and amused. She feels it like pressure on her skin. He is everywhere, as inescapable as the truth itself. He glares down at her, all four eyes watchful and weighing her, his mouth downturned in a slight frown. His tattoos gleam black against his skin, and she finds the courage within her to respond.

"Yes," she agrees. "But why? Why have you pulled me here? Is it because your vessel is dying in my arms as we speak?" She looks up at him, her expression challenging him. Sukuna does not move, as obstinate and obdurate as the mountains and tides. He will not be so easily rankled in his own soul's dwelling.

"I have questions," Sukuna says, and he deigns to move, smirking lightly as he feels and sees the tension in Roxanne's body shift along with her weight to the balls of her feet. Even here, standing in his domain, she is willing to challenge him. She's as foolhardy as the brat if she does.

And yet, part of him hopes she does. He's tempted to prod her and see how to get under that beautiful umber skin, to see helpless rage in her eyes. To lick her tears and taste her despair. She spreads her hands in a gesture of openness.

"Well," she says, "I'm betting we ain't got much time so you better make them good and quick."

"I do everything on my own time, little sorceress."

"Roxanne." She says, challenging him again and he has to will himself not to cut her throat. And then she smirks. "Miss Abaza if you're nasty."

Sukuna's brow furrows then, searching the memories and knowledge he gleaned from the brat. It's not much—the boy is a bonafide moron—but he understands the reference and smirks.

"Miss Abaza," he says in a voice like silk on the senses. He takes undue pleasure in watching the slight squirm of discomfort. He holds out a hand, beckoning her closer. He's surprised when Roxanne launches herself up the mountain of bone, coming to land before him. Seeing her up close, he takes her in. She's smaller than the brat, height-wise, but what she lacks in height she makes up for in curves. She is lush . From the full breasts, pushed together in a mesh top, to the tight and lissome curve of her waist, and the flare of her hips. He wants to switch with the brat, wants to smell her. He cannot access all of the brat's senses in this state, but he plucks a recent memory and savors it.

Jasmine. Jasmine mingled with sweat, and the blood of the foes she slaughtered to reach the brat and the blond sorcerer, whom he knows she's fucking. He can also smell her excitement, mixed with a healthy amount of fear. It's a dichotomous cocktail that makes him want to see just how much she can endure.

Roxanne hesitates, and their gazes linger too long. A flush warms her cheeks and she realizes that he has pulled her here. She will have to fight to escape or wait until he decides to release her. How is this happening? She can recall nothing about how innate domains work because Sukuna moves, and she tenses as he stands, towering over her.

"Your technique," he says, closing the distance between them until she can feel the heat of him on her skin, the air between them crackling with cursed energy. "You redirect cursed energy flow, turn it to poison inside your opponent's body. And your domain…" He walks around her, but Roxanne would say it is more of a prowl. The cage door is ajar and the tiger is loose. And hungry .

"I ain't telling you shit," Roxanne says. "You already felt how it works." She lets out a surprised yelp when Sukuna runs a single nail across the small of her back in passing; tries not to think why his amused chuckle makes her skin prickle with goosebumps that are not entirely unpleasant.

"Your technique is one I've never seen before. But that's not all, is it?" He does not seem to care that she's resolved to give him nothing. He is thinking more out loud. He circles around to her front again, and his nails graze her bare midriff, and he smirks knowingly when he feels her shiver from the sensation. He traces the ink of the serpent tattoo, shockingly gentle, as if her satin skin is a delicate fabric he wants to wear…or eat.

Roxanne is rooted to the spot, even as his hand spans across her skin, sliding up in a smooth glide, over the raven tattoo beneath her breasts. His palm settles right on her heart, barely brushing the lush curve of her breast. Any higher and he can melt her. Now they can both feel her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped and frightened animal.

And something in her lower abdomen flutters, drips down to the juncture between her thighs, making her adjust her stance slightly. She sees Sukuna's nostrils flare, a low and pleased rumble coming from his chest.

"These are shikigami, aren't they?" He asks, and Roxanne wonders why he sounds like he's trying to coax pleasure from her as well as fear. She shivers again. Sukuna chuckles, taking his fingertips away and Roxanne resists the sudden urge to whimper. "I thought so."

Roxanne takes a deep, cautious breath, as slow and controlled as she can. Sukuna places his hand on his chin in idle thought.

"You are a fascinating creature, Miss Abaza," he says, and for a moment he looks slightly surprised at his own words. "And I'll have more answers out of you yet. Still, you have a ways to go before you can contend with me. For now, get the brat patched up, and sweet dreams."

Roxanne startles when the car comes to a halt and Nanami is already coming out to open her door and get Itadori's unconscious form out into the open. Roxanne thanks Ijichi and exits the car. Together, she and Nanami haul Yuji up to the high school, and to Shoko's medical bay. The doctor doesn't ask any questions, only looks relieved to see all three of them alive.

Once Yuji is placed in the care of Shoko, Roxanne and Nanami retreat to one of the meeting rooms.

"Are you alright?" Nanami asks. Roxanne looks up at him, trying not to think of Sukuna's nails on her skin, his palm on her ribcage, relishing the panicked cadence of her heart. Tries not to think of why she wants to slip into his domain again, and challenge him.

"I'm fine," she says. "Just thinking. I…Nanami I'm glad you're alright. When I saw the domain barrier I…I feared the worst."

Nanami smiles. "It's a miracle I lived, honestly. I truly thought that was it for me." Roxanne bites her lip. In a domain expansion, death is not always a guarantee, only a sure-hit. It is the very pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery: a brazen and powerful display of cursed energy control. It is a symbol that a sorcerer has mastered not only their energy, but the certainty of themselves. It is the ultimate alignment of mind, body, and soul. Nanami has never been able to master it, but Roxanne has. She recalls when she first learned about it in school, and when she was forced to discover how to use it, much like reverse cursed technique.

"Not while I'm here," Roxanne says firmly. Nanami reaches up, running an unhurried knuckle over her cheek, and for a moment as the moon limns them in silver, and the lanterns in gold, everything feels perfect. Nanami leans down, and Roxanne comes up on her toes, their lips meeting. It is gentle, but relieved.

"I knew it!" Gojo's voice cuts through their moment, startling Roxanne but making Nanami grunt in annoyance as he stands up to his full height to face the other sorcerer. "You two are still together!"

Roxanne frowns. "Why is it any of your business?" She demands. "And where the hell have you been?"

Gojo produces a bag marked with a label for a local bakery in Sendai. Both Roxanne and Nanami share a glance but say nothing. Frankly, she wonders why she bothers asking these days. Still, she helps herself to a kikifuku pastry, and then she and Nanami proceed to explain the situation.

"So Itadori's figured out domains are weak to outside invasion, huh?" Gojo's voice is amused, and he leans against the meeting table, his eyes hidden behind a blindfold. Roxanne wonders again at what it means to walk this world alone with so much power. She taps her lips thoughtfully.

"I have a thought," she announces quietly. "Do you think it wise to let Itadori be exposed to our techniques so regularly?"

Gojo turns his face to look at her with unerring accuracy. "You mean because of Sukuna?" Roxanne nods. Gojo chuckles. "I forget that you're not a descendant. The upside of having inherited techniques passed down through generations is that there's documentation on how to train and use them. The downside is that means everyone else wants access so there's plenty of people always looking to take a turn to see if they can challenge me."

Roxanne turns out her hands. "Well, yeah, but Sukuna ain't just some street-level curse user peddling cursed items on the black market, Satoru. He's…he's fucking Sukuna . You don't think he's being too quiet? I don't think he's just going to let us exorcize him when this is all over."

"You're right," Gojo says calmly, "he isn't. And that's why we need you to get stronger. Nanami says you've been hesitant to use your full power."

Roxanne shoots Nanami a sharp look but he does not flinch in her gaze.

"Gojo, you know what happens if I lose control of it. And Sukuna's power is…it's a lot. There's so many things that can go wrong if I misjudge timing, position, or even his fucking mood at the time." She's ranting, she knows she's ranting, but all she can think about is his presence pressuring her on all sides as she stood in his domain, trying her best to look and feel fearless, until his palm pressed against her ribs and confirmed she was anything but.

Gojo is silent, his expression unreadable. Nanami moves closer to her side and she takes comfort in the solid warmth of his presence. Alive. Whole. She breathes deep, remembering.

"Do you think you will lose control?" Gojo asks at last. Roxanne hesitates, thinking on the Coca-Cola incident. All those people…

"Roxy," Nanami's voice pulls her back to the present, and his hand finds hers, linking their pinky fingers. "You're a highly skilled special grade sorcerer. You've trained for situations just like this."

"It's not that," she protests, and he squeezes her hand. "It's partially that," she amends. "But Sukuna is cunning. I've spoken with him, and I've fought him. He was holding back too, testing me."

Tasting me .

She shivers, and does not know why the back of her neck prickles.

Gojo cants his head thoughtfully. "You think he's devising a plan to kill me, and you as well."

Roxanne nods. "He's biding his time. I could see it when I looked at him. He's not some mindless brute. He is an evil that thinks . And that, in my experience, is always the most dangerous evil of all."

Neither of her companions disagree.

"Then there's nothing else for it," Gojo says, "we have to get you stronger. Why are you holding back?"

Roxanne hesitates, brow furrowing. She doesn't feel like she's been holding back, but her hand slips from Nanami's briefly to adjust the pile of braids on her head.

"I couldn't risk killing Nanami when we fought that cursed spirit the first time. And there's the risk of touching it. Whatever it does to transfigure souls requires touch, and I don't know what that will mean when I attempt an exorcism. And as for tonight…that barrier was built to keep special grade sorcerers out. I think they're expecting you to show up any time they make a move on the surface."

Gojo nods, understanding. She wonders if he is turning the puzzle around in his mind as well. She wishes he would disclose his own theories and plans, but he never does. He just shows up and happens to people.

Like Sukuna.

Later, Nanami joins her in her apartment, and they have a late dinner, a hastily prepared meal of cold noodles and beer. Both are more exhausted than they initially thought, and for a while they are stretched out on the couch, warm washcloths over their eyes.

"Why did you tell Gojo I was holding back?" Roxanne asks. Nanami's arms are stretched over the back of the couch, and his hand finds her shoulder, stroking it tenderly.

"Because you are," he says. "And I've never known you to do that before, regardless of the situation."

"Maybe I've become more cautious with age," Roxanne challenges, making Nanami laugh.

"Maybe, but you can't afford to worry for me when the chance to exorcize a spirit presents itself, Roxy. The mission must come first, otherwise we can risk more people getting hurt."

Roxanne doesn't know how to explain how sometimes she doesn't want to care about any of that. But it's different with him. It's different because it's him, and he knows it. They should put the mission first but that means they risk losing the other.

Roxanne does not know if she can bear losing him. She almost wishes he'd go back to being a civilian, but she knows he won't. She peels back the washcloth to look at him, and then she shifts on the couch, sliding into his lap to straddle him. Nanami's hands find her waist automatically, and then her mouth seals over his.

For a while, it is just them kissing, reveling in the glory of being alive and together.

Nanami's large hands slide up her shirt, cupping her breasts as they kiss. He rolls her nipples between his fingers gently, smirking as she moans into his mouth, her hips moving of their own volition, grinding into his lap. He does not peel back the washcloth, content to simply feel her, but nor can he resist the desire to watch her. She's too beautiful not to look at.

He peels back the washcloth.

"I love you," he whispers. "I have for a long, long time, Roxy." His hands slide around to span her upper back, marveling at the sleek muscle tone, the supple strength of her. He loves her. He's loved her since they were 16 years old. Maybe even before. He thinks of their late night library talks and debates, the laughter, the way her younger self was so quick to laugh. He thinks of watching her during their classes, knows he's watching her.

"You and Abaza seem to be hitting it off," Haibara says cheerfully after classes one autumn afternoon as they walk back to the dorms. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"She's a good friend, and an interesting person," Nanami says defensively. "I wouldn't want to ruin the friendship by salivating after her like some pervert."

Haibara laughs. "No one says you have to be a pervert. But if you like her, you should ask her out! She's still new to Japan and I'm sure she would love someone to show her around Tokyo!"

Nanami wonders why Haibara is so enthusiastic about this. Then it occurs to him that Roxanne might like him too. What if she's using Haibara as an intermediary? No, she's bold. She wouldn't need a go-between. If she likes him, she'll tell him.

And he'll…tell her eventually. He's not ready just yet.

In the scintillating present, Nanami takes pleasure in what they have, now. He understands how easy it is to forsake one's humanity—the community and bonds that are the very fabric of the human soul—but part of him thinks: we deserve this.

It's why, when he spills Roxanne onto the soft bed, he takes his time. He indulges desire as if it is their last night together, because in their world it very well can be. He laughs when she undoes the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders, and smoothing her hands along his chest, linking her arms around his neck to bring him down to her.

Roxanne loves him, loves him in the way the ocean loves the moon and shore, and she breathes deep the scent of him, a clean soapy scent mixed with his sweat, and leather. She laughs when his lips pepper kisses along her throat, collarbone, along her shoulder. They are at once playful and serious.

A loud meow interrupts them, and Nanami yelps when Ichi takes a swipe at his foot.

"Oh my god, you fucking traitor!" Roxanne laughs as they roll over, Ichi joining them on the bed.

"I thought we were supposed to be friends, Ichi," Nanami sighs, laying on his back. Roxanne props herself up to look at him: his shirt is completely open, his belt and pants undone, and she can see the bulge of his cock pressed against his briefs. She glares at Ichi who blinks slowly at her.

In the end, Nanami undresses and rejoins her in bed, and they lay beneath the covers in companionable silence, Ichi taking up his place curled around their heads on the pillows. Nanami holds her gaze in the soft, velvety darkness of the bedroom, watching constellations dance across her face, and occasionally her eyes.

"I love you," she whispers. "Always."

Nanami's face softens, hazel eyes blurry as he considers the weight of her words. He's heard them before, has said them plenty of times, but this feels different somehow.

"A beach," he says in response. Roxanne's brows go up, her eyes questioning in hushed expectancy. Nanami reaches for her, cups her cheek in his palm, strokes the tender plane of flesh along her cheekbone.

"For vacation," he elaborates softly. "I want to go to a beach. And you're coming with me."

Roxanne smiles at him, reaching up to place her hand over his.

"I love a good beach episode," she says. "Alright, let's do it. But you're paying."