.
.

Bleak.

.

The whole situation seemed at the very least "bleak." Sitting in the storage room of one of PL's many safehouses, Andy bit his tongue, drew a sharp swish of air and ran his fingers over the - surprisingly, hurt and recovering - halo.

Lateran-cheese.

Full of holes, full of pain and agony. Not only did his missing arm still bulge with irks of phantom pain (and reeked of Ori-gas, since the Cleaner's bolt pierced the oil-barrel chamber and let the entire thing drain itself dry) but now so did his ring of light. It happened almost instantaneously, the dreaded removal of those fugly, rusted nails - far faster than he had anticipated, anyway. Whereas Croissant had asked him time and time again during their work together at Pacific Empire, almost BEGGED to have them removed (either by the hand that wielded the magnetic hammer or some show-off's surgical skills at a professional clinic), Seven did not. And neither did he - colloquially speaking - fuck around.

It was an instant.

"... Andy." The boy remarked, back at that burning bridge while carrying one half of Texas slung over his shoulders, a dry farewell to the beloved Highway Queen. "I am quite alarmed by the state of your radiant heritage. I have been taught that nails in body parts are often to be used as an interrogation technique, but perhaps I am mistaken. Perhaps, perhaps, it is a local fashion statement?"

"... Huh?" Andy, barely lucid, barely clinging to his fleeting consciousness, blinked and readjusted the other part of Texas on his back. "Nails? No, not fashion. Some, uh… Yeah, I got into a scuffle and some guy just put them there. Fit quite snugly, I'd say."

"Aha." Seven went quiet for a moment. "... Should I have them removed for you?"

"What?"

"Should I have them removed for you?" He asked again, smiling softly. "I can have them removed. Expressively so."

"Uh… No, thanks." Andy shook his head, letting the nails rattle freely. "I'm kinda used to them by now. But thanks for the offer."

"They seem like a bother." Seven remarked, tail wagging high. "I have been taught that bothersome qualities of life should always be rooted out A-S-A-P."

"..." Andy wondered who Seven's new "teacher" was to be spreading such wisdom. "... No, again. As I said, thank you. Not a bother."

"They're a bother." He concluded.

"They are NOT a bother."

"I should remove the nails."

"Wh–... NO! No. No, Seven, you should not."

"I really should."

"No!"

"Please don't move so suddenly. Miss Cellinia is resting and you might wake her. This is an unideal situation to wake up to for her, I think."

"Miss C–... Miss who?"

"Cellinia. I should remove the nails now, Andy."

"You absolutely should NOT."

"I will proceed to remove them now."

"No! No, Sev–... SEVEN, NO! NO, LEAVE THE N–..."

.

Tick .

.

And with a few ticks and tocks, it was done.

The boy simply pried them all out with the flat side of his sword - every single one, in the blink of an eye. Everything went by so fast, that Andy didn't even have to hold up Texas on his own, because the little moron disappeared and reappeared at her side in less time than it took gravity to register the lack of a support pillar at her other side. Quite the opposite even, as Andy immediately writhed in pain and shock at the rapid removal, dropping the girl fully into Seven's arms for support and curling on the concrete. He waited politely for the angel to stop sobbing and cleared his throat with a firm cough.

.

"Andy." He said, calmly. "I apologize. Profusely so, for the rush. However, I'm sure you must be feeling better now. I hope so, wholly."

"Y-Yeah." The poor guy clambered to his feet, shaking and trembling with a drilling fountain of pain cascading from his halo. "... Yeah, m-my bad. O-Overreacted a bit, but it's much b-better now."

"I'm glad." Seven beamed, wagging his tail freely. "I am really glad."

.
.

"..."

.
.

It all happened a good few hours ago. Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty. Who really knew? The pain of the "operation" persisted through the questioning looks of Lem and Croissant when they got to the safehouse, and through the quick made-up explanations for Seven's sudden appearance and a report on Texas' deplorable condition given to Emperor. Oh, and also through his futile attempts at getting some shut eye after everything's already been settled. Though, somehow, somewhat, at some point, the pain had subsided substantially and he was allowed just a few sweet hours of sleep.

Well rested (groggy and sand-eyed), he sprung from his bed (a bunch of bubble-wrapped pillows to be delivered) and shot out of the room (pitifully dragged himself) to conquer the day (accidentally run into Sora).

"Oh! Oh, Andy!" She flagged him down immediately, waving over. "Andy, c'mere a minute. I need your metal-head expertise."

"Not so metal anymore…" He grumbled, pointing at his halo along the way. "What's up?"

"Oh. Oh, that looks so much nicer." She gave the hole-peppered halo a skeptical look, forcing a smile. "But, um… anyway. So, apparently I've been given the greenlight for the Sauin festival headliner opening performance, and uh… And under a certain condition. I'm supposed to be dueting, or, well performing alongside some guy I've barely ever heard of? This, uh… New- uh… New–... made? Newt something guy? I dunno." She shrugged apologetically, carding through pages after pages of printed paper that sprung suddenly between her arms. "... Anyway, I've been sent the lyrics to a pop hit we're apparently supposed to perform together and, uh… Well, the tune of the song, they sent us that too, the files and all... and it sounds pretty catchy, pretty, um… safe? But these?"

She showed him the papers.

"The lyrics? Take a look. Do these scream "pop" to you?"

"..."

Andy had better things to do than looking over pop song lyrics with Sora, but so be it. One of the main reasons the whole safehouse hasn't yet exploded was the fact that Lem and Croissant managed to keep the girl in the dark about her favorite colleague, Miss Texas herself, lying unconscious in one of the bedrooms with a terrible gash on her forehead and one more car crash to add to her CV summary.

So he got to reading.

"... Smoldering decay, Take your breath away, Millions of our years, In minutes disappears." He murmured, reading off a random part of the song. "... Darkening in vain, Decadence remains, All is said and done, Never is the sun." Huh. Heavy stuff for "pop."

"Yeah!" Sora huffed, tapping insistently at the page. "Does that even barely sound like a pop hit to you? 'Cause to me it doesn't. It's like a buncha random depressive themes stitched together into one mumbled mess of edginess and angst…"

"Uh-huh…" Andy found himself enthralled by the "song", reading further and further down the paragraphs. "The chorus' nice."

"The chorus? What, you mean this?" She shot him an incredulous look, clearing her throat and reciting: " Fire – so, what, so just "Fire?" Just, like… what? Just a word? Anyway – Fire, To begin - whipping dance of the dead? – What the hell is a "whipping dance of the dead?" I know Sauin's all about the dead, but like… Who wrote this?" Sighing, she went on. "... Blackened is the end, To begin whipping d – Oh, God this "whipping" thing again, repeated. Ahem. Fire, Is the outcome of hypocrisy, Darkest potency, In the exit of hu-ma-ni-ty, Color our world blackened – … – Blackened. That's it."

With a flutter, the papers fell to her side.

"What in the world am I supposed to do with this? Am I– Am I supposed to what, to learn this? Sing this? Can't I just pick some song of mine…?" She whined, more to herself than him. "... Andy, what do I do?"

"..."

He blinked. The pain in his halo grew the more she babbled.

"I think you should go on stage and just give them the best show of their lives." He shrugged. "When the time comes, I mean."

.

"..."

.

"Woah." A bit of snark slithered into her tone. "Yeah, just go on stage and give them a show. Just sing, Sora. Great idea, Andy! I'll just go up there and give them a breathtaking experience, 'cause it's just that easy!"

"Yeah, see?" Andy smirked at her display, reaching to smack her shoulder. "You got that locked down, down to the mentality and all."

"Oh, you are just… SO funny, you know." She huffed in exasperation, unable to stop a giggle from slipping. "You should be a comedian. You should've went to clown school instead of Kazdel, you know that? You should've been shooting jokes, not devils."

"Thanks, Hanna." He responded simply, watching her face go from a puffy red to pure white in an instant.

"..." She raised a finger, pointed it accusingly at his chest and threatened with a few prodding taps. "... Yeah, okay. Okay, you win. Yeah, I'm letting you have this one."

And with an incredulous shake of her head, she turned to leave. leaving a trail of muttered grumbles under her breath.

"... Just go give them a show, Hanna. Just sing the stupid song and look pretty, Hanna. Just prance around the stage and wave at the nice audience, Hanna . Oh, look at me, I'm Andrew Ricketts , I know everything there is to know about every subject on Terra and I'm just giving great advice to everyone around, like my own damn company didn't burn to the ground just a few months ago…"

"..."

Andy watched her go, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Silently, he wished her all the best in her musical endeavors, then hurriedly tiptoed towards Texas' bedroom. Right at the door he ran into Lem and Croissant, peeking through the ajar slit.

"How's she?" He asked, joining their head-pillar on top and glancing inside. A sight of the woman's back was all he could see, covered under a mess of blankets and watched over quietly by Seven.

"Dull. Hasn't moved yet. Hasn't opened her eyes." Lem murmured, making space for him to snuggle. "... And that, um… That "friend of yours", you sure he should be standing so close to her? I don't think he's moved an inch either, now that I think about it. Guy's giving me the creeps."

"Everythin's givin' ya the creeps." Croissant lazily uttered, being the bottom part of their three-man vertical installation. "... But I gotta agree, guy's a bit too still. Where'd ya say ya got 'im from again? Kazdel? A what, a war-buddy…?"

"Yeah, war-buddy. Best kind of buddy, actually." Andy immediately bristled in the boy's defense. "He was with me when neither of you could, dolts."

"I didn't even know ya back then!..." Croissant scoffed and elbowed his stomach. Andy almost vomited.

"Yeah, and I couldn't really do much either!" Lem piped up, bumping their halos together. "... Still can't get used to that thing not rattling with rust. You said he just up and pulled them out…?"

"Like a surgeon." Andy gestured, plucking an invisible nail out of the ring. "Precisely, cleanly…"

"I offered ya help wiff' it too, but of course ya were too stubborn to let me, ah…?" Croissant sighed. "But it... awh, don't matter. It's not a competition at this point, methinks. 'S a matter of keepin' watch 'til she wakes."

"Yeah…" Lem quietly stepped away from the door, tugging the rest along. "Let's just leave them be for now, no need to hurry a sleeping girl."

"And her silent guardian…" Croissant butted in.

"Seven, you alright there?" Andy asked, leaning past them both. "Everything cool?"

"..."

Slowly, with a swish of his overcoat, the boy turned on a heel.

"... Everything is good." He said, putting up a thumbs up. "Miss Cellinia is alive. Her condition is stable."

.

Their faces - Croissant and Lemuel's immediately dropped, twisting to a grim display of deep shock - as if it wasn't Seven insde of that room, awkwardly coaxing them into positivity, but a screaming, skinless corpse.

.

"Miss C-... Miss WHO?" Lem immediately erupted, pulling them away - far, far away. "What'd he say? What'd he call her?"

"Miss Cellinia? a ?" Croissant held her breath back, barking out letter after letter incredulously. "He's talkin' 'bout Texas? Our Texas?"

"I don't know, like… like, that's what he had called her earlier, like way back at the bridge…" Andy mused, unpleasantly worried by their lively reactions. "I mean, at the, uh… Where we had the accident, I meant. Happened to be a bridge."

"What were you two even doing there?" Lem nosily prodded, affectionately elbowing his aching side. "Late-night date-night? Lemme guess, Texas had one glass of wine too much and insisted to drive you two back home?"

"No–..."

"She better not have." Croissant scoffed. "Not only did she ruin a perfectly swell evenin' fer' us but also left ya in this sorta state? I mean look at ya."

Andy pitifully averted his eyes and followed her command, looking at himself from the shoulders below. There wasn't much to look at, not at all.

"I think I look pretty normal."

"Pretty normal. I get I think I look pretty normal after all 'a this." She parroted him quite accurately, actually, then sighed wearily. "Y'know, I'm regrettin' strikin' that deal with ya already. Maybe I'll cancel our shared plans tonight, save me some hassle."

"What plans?" Lemuel and Andy both asked, at the same time. "J-Jinx, you owe me a drink!" She sputtered rapidly, as if her life suddenly depended on it.

"..." Andy opted to ignore. "Sorry, what plans?"

"..." Croissant unequivocally nudged her eyes towards Lem. "... Those plans? Ya know which ones? Private plans?"

And then it hit him. The promised date night.

"Oh. Oooooh…"

"Yeaaaaaaaaaah." She hummed along. "That's still up tonight, ain't it?"

"Of course! Yeah, o-of course it is, duh." Andy nodded repeatedly, his halo swishing with all its newly punctured holes. "Why wouldn't it be, right? Would take one hell of a disaster to, uh… to mess up those plans."

"..." Lem seemed quite irritated by the whole ordeal. "Are you two gonna let me in on what you're talking about, or…?"

"No." Croissant replied calmly. "Private business."

"Oh, come on…?"

"Let's, um. Let's focus on Seven and Texas maybe, u-uh?" Andy jumped between them with a more burning matter, nearly impaling himself accidentally on the daggers swooshing from one pair of eyes to the other. "I mean, Cellinia ? Is that supposed to be her actual name, or…?"

"You tell me, duh. He's your "war-buddy", not mine." Lem crossed her arms, gaze accusing as ever. "... Though it does make you wonder, right? What the hell has she been doing in the past to be acquainted with a… a Kazdel Civil War survivor."

"And combatant." He added quickly, thinking back fondly to their shared years of devil-cutting and fiend-shooting. "... Two of them, actually. Or do I not count?"

"Ya don't count. For now at least." Croissant hummed. "So… I mean, if the two are on a first-name basis, ya think it may be some sorta…"

Her lungs excused the words with a quick cough.

"... Y'know. Some sorta deeper connection?"

.

"..."

.

Andy felt his entire body freezing still in an instant. The Cleaner's distorted words danced fresh in his memory, the mentions of "Texans", specifically the "eradication" of such, welded shut to the core of his brain. Seven, Siracusa, Texas, the underworld kingdom of Siracusan organized crime…

It all began falling into pieces.

.

"... Oh my god." He whispered, drawing the curious and worried gazes of the rest. "... No way. No. No way, no possibility in the whole wide world. The Law wouldn't allow."

"Allow what?" Lem blinked. "Allow love to bloom? I'd say it would! It would, it should, and it probably did, 'cause the Law's all about love and affection for everyone!"

Her voice, so warm and affectionate when speaking of the cherished religion. A few months back Andy would've killed to hear her speak of himself in a similar manner – but at that point he felt only a pang of strange discomfort inside. The Pathfinder meeting at his own grave left quite the sour stain on the Law's image as a whole.

"No, but like…" He tried explaining, grasping onto any strands of Seven-related memories. "You don't get it, it's literally impossible. It's… I mean, he couldn't have. I know him, I know him better than most I'd say, and believe me when I say that he could NOT have secured…" Here, a pause followed as he searched for a word best befitting Texas. "... Well, THAT. "

"How so?" Croissant raised a brow. "Ya don't know how girls work. Ya also don't know what sorta guys tickle 'em fancy."

"Not the Seven -type, for sure!" He whipped his head around in an instant. "I mean, he's just… Like… Like… I don't even know how to explain it! Like a super dork, but worse! Much worse!"

"Yeah." She smirked lazily. "I can see someone falling for that."

"Andy, Andy, Andy, Andy…" Lem sauntered on over, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pointing to the door where the objects of their conversation resided. "I know you might've missed out on a few things during your little vacation stay in Kazdel, but that's alright! That's fine, I can still show you and guide you through the wonders of how girls operate. It's a very difficult subject actually, one that only a handful of women ever grasp. Let alone any men!"

"Huff!" Croissant scoffed theatrically. "Uneducated troglodytes, gawd bless their souls."

"But it's not about…" He tried to argue, but Lem simply zipped his mouth shut. (put a bundle of fingers through his lips.)

"Shhhhhhh… Lemme present my case first."

"Mmmmmmphh…"

"So." She began, crossing out a diagram over an invisible blackboard. "As you probably know, there are truly no rules to just two things in the world, right? Those two being the big L and the smaller W. Love and War."

"Uh-huh. She's right, y'know." Croissant wrapped her arm around him from the other side, leaving him wondering. "So pay close attention."

"Mmmmphh…"

"So!" Lem continued, beaming bright from each hole and crevice. "The Big L here is what we're focusing on most – Love! Love, in the air, in our bloodstreams, in our hearts and… and brains , if you're a boring nerdy-type who insists that it's nothing more but a chemical element that inclines us to breed or whatever – Love is somewhat akin to Originium Arts, now that I think about it." She mused, somehow reaching that conclusion. "... The more I think, the more it makes sense."

"I'm just glad yer thinkin' for once." Croissant sighed.

"Haha! Mean!" She giggled, brushing it off completely. "Anyhow. Love, inhibiting those magical properties, can lead people into all sorts of dangerous states and places. It can make you feel like you're on top of the world, like you can do anything and be anyone… Or it can take you, beat you to a bloody pulp, chew you through and spit you out in a dumpster."

"M-Mmmphh…"

"Or… Or, well." Her voice dimmed, eyes overcome with shadows. "... Or it can make you do some really dumb stuff. Really, really… really dumb stuff, that you later regret. Years later. 'Cause you realize it was all for nothing aaaaaaand that the other person never did and never will feel the same."

"..."

Andy and Croissant exchanged a worried look.

"... Exu, ya alright?" She asked, softly prodding into her side.

"Huh?" She perked up, lighting up immediately as if someone had flicked on the lights again. "Yeah! Yeah, of course! Anyway, dumb stuff! We were on the dumb stuff!"

"M-mmmph!"

"So, sometimes love can make you do some really shady things, and sometimes it can make you fall for a person you'd never see yourself falling for – not in a million years." And with that, she grinned into his eyes. "... Which brings me to a conclusion – and a plea for you to consider that it might just be the case here with your Seven and our Miss Cellinia. "

After finishing her little speech, Lem finally uncorked Andy's mouth. Her fingers made a loud "Pop!"-ing sound on their way out.

"G-God, you taste like shit… O-Ow."

"La-anguage!" She hissed, slapping his shoulder and softening instantly. "But yeah, that's about it! Convinced yet?"

"I'm pretty convinced." Croissant added with a shrug. "Don't see why 'at might not be the case. Everyone deserves a lil' lovin' in life after all. Even Texas."

"..."

Andy thought about asking whether he also deserved love, but the words simply refused to leave his throat. Good riddance.

"Maybe." He murmured after a while of consideration. "... Maybe you're onto something. Maybe not. Maybe we're just grasping at strands here. Or maybe… or maybe…"

"Oooor maybe I'm right and you're just afraid to admit it!" Lem bit in a sassy voice, uncharacteristically playful after months of neglect from Andy. "Either this, or you're jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"Of Texas." She hummed. "Duh."

"I'm not?"

"Ya better not be." Croissant didn't even bother sounding imposing. "Or else."

"..." Andy glanced at her face and found himself staring at his own mutilated halo, reflected off the mirrors of her irises. "I-I'm not."

"Then it's settled." Lem clapped, almost bouncing with childish glee. "We finally got a real, genuine reason to tease Texas with! Sorry, to tease Miss Cellinia with! Yippe!"

"Yippe-ki-yay!" Croissant joined her celebration, jumping in the air and hitting her heels together. "Got a valid point for tormentin' our coworker!"

"But it's not… Guys…" Andy, whining and groaning, knew he had already lost the battle, yet still clung to a glimmer of hope that maybe – just maybe, they were wrong. Because they had to be. "Guys, just… just listen…"

"Oh, we're listenin'. In fact, there's nothin' to listen to currently, compared to all the sweet and honeyed warbling of our two lovebirds we'll be listenin' to very soon." Croissant practically tweeted in elation, rubbing her hands together. "Ain't 'at right, Exu?"

"More than right! The only correct way for it to go!" She squealed in joy. "I should already start prepping some rhymes and stuff, turn our whole company into one big elementary school… Seeeven and Teeexas, sitting on a tree – K-I-S-S-I-N-G–..."

"..." Andy felt his stomach calling. It sent a note upstairs, asking for permission to vomit yesterday's dinner. "... You know what?"

"What?"

"What, hehe~?"

"I'll just go ask him."

Andy firmly put his foot down and pointed at the door.

"I'll just walk in there and ask him."

"Ask him what? For confirmation?" Lem narrowed her gaze, tracing along his finger. "You sure you wanna intrude into a lovers' private moment? They're in there all alone, a knight in blackened armor standing tall, a bulwark of affection, above his ill-fallen maiden…"

"..." Croissant shot her a look. "... Yeah, that. Yer just gonna barge in there?"

"I might! I just might!" Andy, irritated to the highest degree at that point, put his hand on the door's handle and squeezed it tight. "I'll waltz right in and ask!"

.

"..."

.

"..."

.
.

Right as his fingers entangled with the copper inlay, muffled tumults of wild clangs and increasingly loudening thuds began shooting from inside.

.

"...?" Andy stopped dead in his tracks, cold enveloping him whole. With a blank and white face, he turned towards the girls.

"Oh, they're really getting it on straight away, huh…?" Lem, cheeks peppered with red, slowly shuffled over to whisper. "... Law, that's… that's very loud. And rowdy. A-And aggressive, um. I guess Texas just keeps being a bundle of surprises each and every day, h-hey…?"

"..." Croissant wordlessly pressed her ear to the door. "... Ya sure that Seven of yers is as much of a dork as you make him out 'ta be? Sounds pretty… passionate , I guess…"

"..."

.

And as the rapid cluttering and ear-cracking clinging kept penetrating the door through, Andy was left staring dead-eyed at his own shoes. Paled with genuine fear and disgust, an ever so increasing aversion to the concept of both Seven and Texas (particularly their apparent lack of manners), he couldn't do anything – but stare.

Stare and stare.

Look at those shoes, hoping the ground beneath his feet would part and swallow him whole.

.

"... I n-need a moment." He uttered. "Sorry."

" 'As alright." Croissant gently rubbed his shoulders, taking explicit care to massage the burning tension right out. "Sometimes that stuff 'appens. When two adults really, really like one another, they just… just sometimes 'appen to…"

"S-Shut up…"

.

CLANG–

BANG-

WHAM-

BAM-

.

THUD-

.

CRASH!

.

The three of them instinctively jumped away from the door when a sizable chunk of the wall bordering them off from Seven and Texas suddenly simply stopped existing. A spillage of waterfalling plaster-dust began flowing into the room in seconds, covering the entire area in a thick smokescreen that made their throats revolt violently.

"Keff… Keff– w-what the hell?!" Croissant clambered to her feet first, immediately pulling Andy along. "Hell's that supposed to be?!"

"I d-don't know?!" Andy shouted through the continuous rapid-fire echo of steel battling steel. "Lem?"

"H-Here! Keff…" A Lem-like hand shot from beneath the river of dust gathering at their feet. Andy reluctantly grabbed it tight and pulled the girl up. "T-Thanks, k-keff… Y-Your friend Seven's kinda wild, huh…?"

"What?!"

.

Whish-whoosh-CLANG!

.

A barrage of glowing rusted blades skidded through the hole and embedded deeply into the wall behind. "Sword rain?" Andy thought in confusion. "Here? Now?"

Tick-

And with the swords ravaging the cardboard walls, cutting and decimating the foundation as if it was nothing, a blink of a blue paint-like hue flowed along.

Tock!

Seven, scratched to hell and back, flew between the swords and contorted his body to fit the gaps between. Squirming, all tangled like a pretzel, his body flew from one blade to another with a mangled mess of Ticks and Tocks , narrowly avoiding being impaled at the gut.

Tick–

His feet hit the ground firmly.

Tock!

And immediately planted themselves confidently against the surface.

.

TickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTockTickTock!

.

As the torrential downpour of swords continued its restless assault, Seven began spinning wildly in place, enveloped in blue and waving his little blade around like a whirring rotor turbine. The motion trampled and dulled the approaching blades, cutting them down one by one in a honeycombed lightshow of scorching steel and exploding arts – blowing holes in the back wall, bursting into a hundred sunsets glistening in the wild spin of his weapon.

And through the piercing volleys, a darker shape erupted from the hole in the wall. Wordlessly, with just a pained groan and the flutter of her blazer, Texas dashed through her spiked rain of steel, brandishing one of her usual swords. She tapped along the blades, ran her feet over the handles and guards, fastened her grip on the Originium edge, and plunged into Seven's guarded stance from above.

TICK-

CLANG!

Their blades met in a bright eruption of crimson sparks, as her full weight soon toppled the boy and sent him flying into the sword-peppered back wall. Seven tick-d away from a certain doom impaling his spine, and threw himself at the woman from the side.

CLANG!

As if someone had cut a bundle of electrical wiring wide open, the entire room began spewing sparks left right and center. Their swords clashed repeatedly – over and over – in a set of reciprocated patterns; she'd block an overhead jab, and he'd throw a side-swiping slash. She'd parry it away and poke at his eyeball, he'd duck just barely and send the tip of his sword flying into her stomach. She'd step to the side and throw her blade aimed for his head, he'd swing his own in an attempt at a block and follow with an overhead jab – and so on, so on, so on…

Up until Andy and Croissant managed to step in.

"SEVEN!" He yelled through the pumping adrenaline, grabbing the boy firmly by the arms and tugging away from his opponent. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

"TEXAS!" Croissant yelled as well, wringing out both her arms behind her back like a human pretzel. "WHAT'S 'AT SUPPOSED TO BE, A SHOW 'A SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY?"

"L-Let… Let go! Let go of me!" She hissed through her teeth, dripping with poison and a murderous scowl directed at the suddenly-docile boy. "Y-You disease, how do you… How do you have no shame?! Self respect?! How dare you?! How dare you invade MY territory?!"

"I am not invading your territory." Seven, completely limp and compliant in Andy's arms, answered politely. "I was invited here. Andy invited me in."

"YOU?!" She shot the angel a wild-eyed look of disbelief. "YOU LET THIS THING IN HERE?!"

"Thing?" He asked, utterly dead in the brain. "W-Whaddya mean "thing"? What's the connection here?"

"KILL IT!" She yelled, bucking wildly in Croissant's steel grasp. "KILL IT, OR… OR LET ME! CROISSANT! LET ME GO, THAT'S AN ORDER!"

"I only take orders from our baws." She huffed. "Calm yerself, woman."

"KILL THAT THING, REIFF!" Texas opted to ignore the girl. "KILL IT, DUMP ITS CORPSE OUT BACK! QUICK, BEFORE IT KILLS EVERYONE!"

"It won't kill anyone! He won't kill anyone!" Andy quickly corrected himself. "What the hell are you even talking about?!"

"Miss Cellinia appears to be in a deep state of distress over my presence." Seven calmly explained, leaning back into Andy's chest. "So far so that Miss Cellinia tried to assault me upon waking up–..."

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT!" She hissed, eager to break free from her captor's grip like a feral hound on a leash. " YOU or any other of your– your sellsword-lapdog types, you have no right, NO RIGHT, to be calling me that. Matter of fact, why are you still even speaking? Reiff!"

"What?!"

"Kill it!"

"No!" Andy yelled back, voice tinged with irritation. "How the hell do you even know each other?"

"How the hell do YOU even know eachother?" She glared back.

"We are technically brothers." Seven remarked.

"WHAT?!"

"Not blood related, obviously…" Andy quickly cleared up, attempting to not burst out laughing at the utter shock and confusion sprawled over her face. "... But we share the same surname on our left papers, right…? Or, or we used to, technically. I'm Reiff now, not Ricketts."

"Mm." Seven hummed. "Perhaps I should update my passport then."

"Where the hell have you even met?!" Texas barked, squirming, desperately trying to twist her wrists from Croissant's hands. "And why haven't you told me?!"

"Because it's my private business who I meet in Kazdel?" He huffed. "And how was I supposed to know you two somehow know each other?!"

"Because everyone knows Valtiel?" She huffed right back.

" Valtiel? "

"Yeah?"

"His name's Seven, not Valtiel ."

"Does it matter what I call it?" She scoffed in exasperation. "Miss Sicily's mass-murderer lapdog? Living human weapon? Is that better? Maybe "Completely apathetic psychopath-cleaner with hundreds slaughtered behind his belt?"

"Thousands." Seven corrected, raising a finger. "But only bad people. Deserving." He added, craning his neck to smile at Andy.

"That's what you were doing in Siracusa…?" He asked, feeling the weight of his past sins suddenly crashing down on him in a waterfall of guilt and a gnawing, biting kennel of rabid dogs munching on his conscience. "Murdering "bad people?"

"And visiting doctor Calì's restful place." He added. "Once a month, at least. I lit candles."

"W-... Who?"

"Doctor Calì. I happen to have never told you about my first and most beloved caretaker, Andy, and I must apologize. During our mutual absence, I must say I have grown a lot and I have also realized the true worth of those who manage to remain in one's memory for a length unforeseen. That being said, I have also decided that revealing truth's of one's life – never relieved of before – is a sign of not only trust but also aff–..."

"ANDY!" Texas yelled again, flailing her arms to pry herself away from Croissant. "KILL IT WHEN IT'S MONOLOGUING! JUST– JUST SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT, BAG IT, DUMP IT IN THE MIDDLE OF–..."

"I'm not shooting him!" He yelled back. "I'm not doing anything to him! Look, I… I don't know what the deal with you two is but he's my—..."

Andy gave Seven a long, good look.

He's never even imagined him so dolled up and tailor-dressed, with his fancy suit and long, flapping overcoat. The brims levitated just barely above ground level, perfectly cut and measured for his height apparently. It was difficult to believe that the same boy would ever dress himself in a bunch of rags and tattered poncho flaps, donning a conical mess of torn straw over his horns. Hell, it was difficult to believe he'd ever have taken part in the muddy landslides of Kazdel's battlefields at all.

"... He's my friend." He finished quietly. "And I'm not losing him again, ever."

"..."

Texas went quiet. Seven stared with his usual, empty gaze right at his guardian angel, flopping lazy eights with his tail behind his back.

"I suppose Miss Cellinia does have a valid reason to be this wary of me." He started explaining, but it didn't last long.

"Do not call me that." She muttered, falling limp into Croissant's chest. The toll of yesterday's injuries and today's rampant strain must've been taken at some point. "You are not permitted to call me that."

"...?" Seven glanced at Andy.

"...?" Andy glanced back at him. "... Oh. Oh, yeah, uh… Yeah, don't call her that if she doesn't want you to, I guess. You gotta listen to her, she's my landlord."

"Landlord?" He asked. "You've tangled ties with the Siracusan crime underworld?"

"Huh?"

"It's unwise to have a mob figure for a landlord."

"Mob figure?" Croissant skeptically raised a brow, swaying the girl from side to side. " Mob figure, ah?"

"Ex - mob figure…" She puffed. "Had a falling out with the family. Doesn't matter now."

"The Texans were decimated in one night." Seven explained to Andy, swatting invisible flies with his tail. "I myself have claimed exactly twelve warriors and their valiant efforts, including the Capo , signor Giuseppe. Perhaps the most effortful of them all. Great respect."

"Thank you for the reminder." Texas muttered dejectedly. "Needed that, really. You're very… very perceptive. Yeah, hey, Andy, your friend can really read the room like an open book, you know?!"

"Wh–, you…" Andy stammered, stilled into a state of frozen shock by the revelation. "You killed a bunch of her family members…?"

"Famiglia members." Seven corrected. "The name may be deceitful, but most people making up the Texan famiglia were more like employees instead of an actual blood-related family."

"Oh… well- w-well, I mean, at least that's something…"

" Signor Giuseppe however, was her one and only father."

"O-... Oh."

"Yeah." Texas, seemed more irritated than anything. "Are you done? Can we close it up already?"

"She doesn't seem nearly as mad as she should be…?" Andy lowered his voice, whispering into the boy's ear. "Daddy issues?"

"..."

Seven glanced at the girl, catching an eyeful of piercing, freezing cold daggers.

"... Daddy issues." He confirmed.

"Ah."

"But, alas, not as much as another person I've accidentally somewhat grown to know. That person, perhaps unfortunately, is one of the main reasons it took me quite a while to find you and reconnect. That, and the lack of directions. Or knowledge of your whereabouts." He mused. "... But mostly just that person, tailing my steps wherever I went, begging for a duel."

"What person?"

"A vile person." He stepped back, eager to explain. "A person of questionable morals, a person of a disgusting "sense of humor." A person that reminded me like nothing else of the realities we faced in Kazdel. A person that, despite being born and raised in the land of rain and crime – as far as I am aware – embodies everything the accursed land we know has ever stood for. Again, as far as I am aware."

"What person?" Texas suddenly perked up. "Who? Her? "

"Who?" A new voice, a rough and scratchy, dust filled cough of Lemuel joined their little stand-off. "What're we talking about anyway? And why'd you fight the new guy, Texas? So eager to show off what happens to intruders who cross the Ice Queen's territory, ey? Hehe…"

.

"..."

.

Everyone turned to glance at her light-struck silhouette emerging from the debris.

.

Tap.

.

Right as they did, a gentle clutter of some light projectile crashed and plinked off the nearest window.

.

"...?"

.

Andy slowly let go of Seven, allowing their arms to untangle.

"Behave, alright?" He said, wagging a finger before his hollow eyes. "Don't, uh… don't attack Texas, don't attack anyone for that matter. Just treat her like you'd treat me, okay?"

"Of course." He nodded. "Miss Cellinia, I for once, am glad to see a somewhat familiar face."

"Do not call me that." She hissed, glancing expectantly at Croissant. "... And let go of me. If that thing promises to behave we won't have any more problems for now. I assume, at least."

"Mean, if ya say so…" She shrugged nonchalantly, letting go. Seeing Andy already creeping up the window and scaling the sill, she crossed the room to join his side.

"..."

And Seven, Texas and Lem were left to awkwardly stare at each other in the strangest stare-off any of them have ever experienced.

"... Hiiiii..." Lem began, approaching Seven cautiously and crouching like one would before a child. "Seven, right? Andy's war-time bestie?"

"Bestie." He repeated, his tail perking high. "I don't understand. Bestie, I don't know that word. Explain?"

"Oh, um." She smiled, stifling a tiny giggle. "Bestie, like… like a close, I guess "best" friend. That's what it means."

"Ah." His expression brightened considerably at the thought of being considered Andy's best friend, excitement evident in the rapid sway of his tail. "I'd be happy to be considered Andy's "war-time bestie", then."

"Oh that's just adorable." She squealed, reaching out to take and shake his hand. "And I'm Exu–... Well, Lemuel for you, I guess. Andy's pre-and-post- war bestie!"

"O." His eyes grew curious. "My memory is blank, which means he had most likely never mentioned your name to me before. Very interesting to learn."

"O-Oh, he never…?" Lem stuttered, her smile dropping in an instant. "Um. Yeah, he was, uh… you two were probably really busy back then, ah…? No time for talking about home and fond memories when there were mounds of devils to shoot, right?"

"He actually spoke of home quite often in the evenings." Seven mused. "Spoke of the streets. The marbles. He spoke of graves and grand towers. Tall cathedrals, kaleidoscopes of scattered light. Valiances of architecture and shows of prideful lust for the highest pallid summit."

"..." Lem was left quite blank-faced. "... Y-Yeah. Yeah, of course he did."

.

"..." Texas scoffed, leaving the two of them be. Instead, she sauntered over to Andy and Croissant to check what's had their eyes glued to the window for so long.

.

"... Can't believe you brought that thing here." She began a bit pissed, elbowing her way between the two. "What were you thinking? Genuinely, what was going through your mind when you thought "Oh, I'll lead a glorified death machine right into a safehouse filled with my coworkers who I supposedly care about." The word "safe" in "safehouse" is supposed to actually mean something, Reiff."

"Can ya just drop it?" Croissant, to Andy's surprise, piped up with a scowl. "Look, I dunno what the two of ya were doin' inna past, what the conundrum-d connections ya both 'ave, but it's pretty clear 'ta me that this Seven fella and Andy 'ave some pretty avid bond. One that transcends yer old workin' environments, at least."

"..." Texas shot her a look, but didn't muster enough for a barked back response. Andy looked over her shoulders and gave the redhead a look of genuine, heartfelt thanks.

"... Exactly what she said." He murmured, turning to scan the empty street again. "Seven and I have a… a special relationship. We've always had one, and it's… I mean, it's not my fault that the first thing that came to my mind after meeting him back at the bridge wasn't asking whether he knew you from somewhere and whether he has or hasn't murdered a chunk of your past crime - family, okay…? Where did that last part even come from?"

"Surprise." She muttered. "... I was gonna tell you at some point, anyway. Cat's out of the bag a bit earlier than anticipated, I guess."

"But why keep it a secret?" He asked, leaving the sight of the street as dead and desolate as ever to gaze into her half-lidded eyes. "Why not just outright tell me, "Oh, well, we have a problem to solve due to my past, and blah-blah-blah, now you're roped into all this as well, we gotta fix it somehow." Why all the hush-hush shushes?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She raised a brow. "Would you have agreed to help if I spilled everything beforehand? Would you have rather get tangled into a years-long feud against a whole country, or into a simple street-scuffle started by an apparent rumor?"

"Both?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You're my landlord, right? And I have to pay rent somehow?... Well, and a friend, also. And friends look out for each other, no matter the issue."

"..."

"..."

Texas and Croissant exchanged a look.

"... He's just a bit naive and pathetic like 'at." She explained in passing. "But ya get used to it after a while. 'S kinda endearing actually."

"Guess so." Texas hummed back. "... Guess that one's on me. Guess you're owed an apology."

"Apology accepted."

"You're owed one, not being given one." She bit back immediately. "You'll get it in due time, 'cause I still can't believe you genuinely brought that thing into our safehouse."

"He literally saved both of us! On that bridge, after the crash, the… the Cleaner! He murderized the Cleaner as he was about to blow your head smooth off!"

"What the hell were you two even doin' out there…?" Croissant sent them an accusing look, one filled with genuine worry towards the boy.

"Dealing with business. Business that Andy promised to help with."

"Seven saved us! Saved you too!" He ignored her completely, instead flailing his arms around in the poor guy's defense. "He had every chance to kill you or whatever, but guess what? But he didn't, because–…"

"Oh, so what, so that thing 's learned remorse now?" She raised a brow. "Doubt it."

"Seven's not a thing ." Andy hissed. "And he's not a brainless, mass-murderer either, he's-..."

"And why do you keep calling it Seven, anyway ?" She cut in, somewhat curious. "Name's Valtiel from what I've heard. Val-tiel , servant of God. God being the one who holds his leash at the moment, respectively."

"That's…" Andy felt his knees growing a little weaker. If thoughts could yell, they'd all be screaming out a cacophony of different versions of "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU LET THEM DO TO HIM?" over and over. "... I don't know? I know him as Seven, so he's Seven to me. He likes Seven more anyway."

"Seven." She spit the word out like a ball of fur. "... Suppose it's better than Valtiel . More normal, surprisingly. More civilized."

"A name from Kazdel is more civilized than a name from Siracusa in your eyes?" He raised a brow. "You really, really despise that country for some reason."

"Gee golly." She scoffed in amusement, mimicking Croissant's usual go-to. "I wonder why."

"But what's so uncivilized about it?"

"The people."

"The people, how?"

"..."

"... Texas?"

"You'd have to be there to know."

"Oh, come on…"

"It's hard to explain, you'd have to see yourself."

"But we have time, you can just tell me straight and…-"

"No. Focus on the task here. What's the task anyway? Why are we sitting by the window?"

"Somethin' plinked off the glass." Croissant shrugged. "Like someone had thrown somethin'. My best guess is anotha' homeless bottle-chucking competition happenin' at ground level, but then again ya never really know with these streets…"

.

And as if on cue, another projectile had suddenly hit the window.

.

"?"

Andy jumped back, nearly falling over. Croissant slung her tail around his torso like a lasso and spun him back on his feet, just barely avoiding an open-skull cracked crysis.

"Thanks, Crossie…"

"Welcom'-..."

"Shhhh." Texas shushed them both, reaching for the window's handle. "... Do not speak. Not a word."

.

"..."

.

Making sure their lips were sealed shut, she grasped the knob and gently twisted, letting the glass split ajar with a gentle, soothing whoosh of the late-midday breeze.

.

And the shrill high-notes of an intruding voice, a complete alien to the usual sorrowful desolation.

.

.

".. . Ah, per l'amor di Dio, adesso non ho più manco le scarpe per camminare… " It whined with an echoing repeat, mumbled under its non-corporeal nose. "... Y'hear that, rat-boy?! That was my last and only shoe I just threw at you! THAT WAS SIRACUSAN LEATHER THAT JUST STRUCK YOUR WINDOW, SORDO DI MERDA! I KNOW YOU TOOK SIRACUSAN CLASSES, I KNOW YOU KNOW WHAT SORDO MEANS! IT MEANS DEAF , RAT-BOY! DEAF! ALMOST LIKE DEATH! WHICH I'LL BE - TO YOU - IF YOU DON'T OPEN THAT WINDOW AND COME DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT, HA! Ha. Ha, that was a good one, caspita… "

.

.

"..."

.

.

Neither of the three could see the window-assailant, but Andy's already learned better than to take insults in Siracusan slung at himself lightly. He tapped Texas on the back, leaning in for her earring'd ear.

"... Should I go grab the rifle?" He whispered, making the fluff flutter.

"..." But she couldn't reply. Eyes, glued to the window, gaze, lost in the fog wafting outside – she couldn't even hear him. Couldn't make out a single word through the mumbled shouting.

.

"COME ON! COOOOME ON, RAT-BOY! YOU'RE KEEPING A GIRL WAITING HERE, AND BY THIS POINT YOU SHOULD PROBABLY KNOW THAT IT'S REALLY, REALLY RUDE TO KEEP A LADY IN SUSPENSE… THIS LADY IN PARTICULAR, HA. YOU'RE PROLONGING THE INEVITABLE, DRAGGING OUT AN ACT THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO FINISH A GOOD YEAR OR SO AGO! YOU OWE ME THIS! AND I WOULDN'T WANNA OWE MYSELF ANYTHING, BELIEVE ME. I WOULDN'T WANNA BE UP THERE, CURLING UNDER A… TERMOSIFONE OR WHATEVER. RADIATOR? YOU GOT A RADIATOR IN THAT HOVEL? BENE, BENE, YOU GOTTA KEEP YOURSELF WARM FOR ME, THAT'S GOOD! IT'S GETTING REALLY COLD OUT HERE, THOUGH! AND BORING! COLD AND BORING. I CAN'T TELL WHICH ONE'S WORSE, HAHA!"

.

"... Texas…?" Croissant whispered, skeptically glancing past her shoulder. "... Who exactly is 'at supposed 'ta be?"

"..." But again, she couldn't respond.

.

"A GREAT EVIL STANDS IN THE WAY OF MY JUSTICE, RAT BOY! A GIANT EVIL! A MASSIVE EVIL OF A THOUSAND, GAPING EYES! ALL GLAZED WITH GLASS, SOME COVERED WITH WOODEN BEAMS APPARENTLY. PORCA PUTTANA , THIS REALLY IS ONE GIANT HELLHOLE YOU'VE BUNKERED YOURSELF IN. ANYWAY, THE GIANT EVIL IS THIS BUILDING, RAT-BOY! THE BUILDING WHICH I KNOW YOU'RE INSIDE OF, AND WHICH I WILL SCALE OR BLOW APART IF YOU DON'T COME OUT HERE SOON AND FACE ME, LIKE PROMISED. YOU EVER HEAR THAT TALE OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGGIES AND THE BIG BAD WOLF? YEAH, WELL, I'M GONNA TURN THIS PIECE OF SHIT INTO A MOUND OF DEBRIS IF YOU DON'T POKE YOUR HEAD OUT THE DOOR SOON, 'CAUSE I'M JUST AS BIG AND BAD AS THE TIPO FROM THE BEDTIME STORY."

.

"..."

Andy felt a gentle wave of fabric brushing past his shoulder. Seven stepped up to the window, leaning equally as close as Texas, both their cheeks pressed flush against the cold surface.

.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT-BOY! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOY! I'M GETTING BOOOOOOOOOOOOOORED! B-O-R-E-D! AND COLD! REALLY… REALLY… Really, really cold actually… Porco Dio , I shouldn't have thrown both my shoes up there, what the fuck…? Both got stuck on that damn sill, damn my perfect aim and perfect throwing technique…" The voice mused away quietly, biting and growling at itself – or perhaps, from the sound of it – at her self. "... Anyway, A-AHEM! RAT-BOY, I'M OUTTA SHOES, I'M OUTTA PATIENCE AND I'M GETTING REALLY, REALLY BORED! I'M GOING TO START THROWING BRICKS AT YOUR WINDOW NOW.

…

…

I HAVE PICKED UP A BRICK.

I'M AIMING IT NOW, OKAY?

I HAVE AIMED IT AT YOUR WINDOW."

.

"..." Seven slowly sighed. He excused Texas with a gentle motion and politely shoo-d her away from the window, which he then opened and reached outside. There were indeed two shoes on the windowsill, one of them tipped, one of them standing upright – both of them black, both of them strangely modern and expensive. Andy's never seen a leather creation this convoluted and multi-layered, but to Seven the sight appeared familiar above all. He took one of them inside, examined from all sides, glanced down the hollow opening and raised it to his nose for a confirming sniff.

Texas swept a circle with her tail, which Andy assumed must've been the disgust that couldn't appear on her ever so still face.

"..." Seven, with all eyes on him, took the other shoe and gently closed the window. "... Her. It's her. I profusely apologize for–..."

"Can't believe you brought her here." Texas muttered, scowling at him dejectedly. " Her of all people."

" She followed me here. I did not invite the likes of her anywhere." He took the shoes under one arm, grabbed his sword – leaning against a nearby wall – in the other, and began heading for the door. "But I'll deal with the annoyance. Fret not."

"What annoyance?" Croissant followed closely behind, her gaze constantly jerking between Seven and Texas. "Who is 'at, outside? And don't give me 'at look, c'mon. Yer just gonna go all silent on us again?"

"Mmm." She hummed. "Mute, almost."

"..."

Right as Seven got to the door, it burst wide open and welcomed a most distressed Sora barging in.

"Guys! G-Guys! O-Oh, sorry, excuse me." She stammered into Seven, bouncing off his front and hitting a wall with her back. "O-Oof. Excuse me, mister."

"Excused." He nodded politely. "And excuse me. Are you alright?"

"Huh? Yeah, just a, uh… Well, excuse me." She cleared her throat and awkwardly shuffled past the boy. "Guys! Did you hear all that racket? What was that, wh–... What the hell happened to the wall?"

"Um!" Lem perked up, feeling all well rested and starved for inclusion in any conversation. "Redecorating! We're finally doing some, uh… some renovations in this old joint."

"Renovations?"

"Uh-huh~!"

"But why?" She glanced around the perverse and mutilated state of the corridor, catching the glimpses of streak-scattered light breaking through the floating dust. "We've barely just started using this place as a safehouse…?"

"And it's already undergoing thorough renovations! Life moves fast at Penguin logistics, doesn't it?" She chuckled, awkwardly gathering Croissant by an arm and cornering the girl away from the rest. "Anywho, you wanna help me and Crossie sweep up some of that electrical debris before the boss gets back? Would haaaaaate to have him walk in on this."

"Um…" She sized the girls skeptically, leaning on her tip-toes to catch a glimpse of Texas, Andy and Seven discretely creeping towards the exit. "... And aren't you two gonna help us with this? It's supposed to be a team effort here after all. We're a team, no?"

"We are." Texas nodded, her tone softening. Andy's noticed that whenever the direction of any conversation would shift in a manner that in any way included Sora (or, well, Hanna), her voice would take a complete one-eighty as well, losing the usual hollow depth and instead sparking some bare glimmers of warmth. "... But we have our own share of things to deal with."

"What things?" Sora asked.

.

CRASH!

.

And the girl jumped immediately when the room's only window suddenly shattered to a hundred little pieces. A thick, red brick fell to the floor with an empty thud.

"Those things." Texas sighed. "Annoying things."

"Ah. A-Ah, I see." She nodded at the sight of her convincing argument. "... Well, we'll just… we'll just start sweeping then, I guess…"

"Mmm." Texas hummed, taking both Andy and Seven by the scruffs, making the angel bristle and hiss, and allowing the devil to fall completely limp beneath her touch. "... And we'll just be a moment."

And shoved the three of them out the door.

.
.

.

.

…

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.