Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Silk Gloves ❯ Not Without You ( Chapter 9 )

I no own. I think the only reason I'm doing disclaimers is I find them mildly amusing. DANCE MY DISCLAIMERS, DANCE! MWAHAHA.

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“I'm not doing this without Haruto.”

She had to hold her breath, waiting for the answer from the stony replacement. It was a long time in coming, but she refused to elaborate. Finally, there was a very quiet grunt, as if acknowledging an irony. “Fine. But he will have no influence from you. He must join freely and as if you were not with us.”

She lost her breath, regained it, and then lost it again; first with the sudden relief of Kenshio's concession, and then with the realization that they would be doing it without her. Still, she knew he would come. Even if they didn't tell him, he would know she was there. It would have to do. “Fair enough. He will not say no.”

“He will not survive if he does.” And Kenshio hung up the phone, looking over her shoulder to glare at the man beside her, grinning into his hand.

“I told you, Kasu, they are partners. It never does to separate the halves of a whole in these matters.”

Kenshio muttered a quiet `rot in hell' before shoving her phone in her pocket and stalking in the direction of her car. “We will do it tomorrow; after the work day.”

He resisted the urge to laugh at her as she opened her door and climbed in. She was behaving distinctly like a cat that had just been drenched; twitching and attempting to keep her dignity. She was an interesting woman; how anyone could miss her double face was a mystery to him. Perhaps she had always been an enigma, even when she had been loyal to the organization; and so the change she underwent was so subtle that no one noticed. He suspected that her obsession with awakening witches and thwarting SOLOMON stemmed from once being a believer in the organization. Such single-mindedness was usually the sign of a born and bred, or a change of heart-- not a nagging, constant doubter suddenly given a route to act. Beside that, he was nearly positive that to receive her training from the organization, she would have had to have undergone tests of loyalty beyond physical and emotional discomfort- perhaps even beyond pain. More than likely, he would never know, unless told by another. For now, it was something interesting to ponder as he walked to his home on night such as these; when she sped away from his correct answers.

~^~

Sakaki Haruto was amazed at how easy it was to not make eye contact with, or speak to, a co-worker. Even when that co-worker was only one of five in a small office, it was still possible to dance around each other.

Of course, it wasn't that he didn't want to speak with Miho, and he suspected that it wasn't that she didn't want to speak with him. In fact, he wanted to apologize, tell her that if it was that important, then he could deal with not knowing; it was probably better for him anyway, in the grand scheme of things.

There was one thing keeping him from the simple act of taking her aside and quietly saying that he was sorry though, and that was the knowledge that she wanted to tell him. But something was keeping her from saying anything, and whatever it was, it was obviously taxing her. The whole day, she spoke with half the inflection that she usually used, and she easily slipped into stretches of staring into space.

And so, not wanting to make it harder, he tried to refrain from talking to her, opting for general statements rather than direct, and a chain system of talking, usually through Michael. Since there was little to do that day, no hunts and only a meager amount of investigating, it was somewhat easy.

Well, he thought, in theory. He hadn't realized just how much he enjoyed chatting with her; even with the vulture of a replacement hanging over them. Kenshio couldn't hear the smiles they shared, and she couldn't understand how Miho's tone of voice reflected exactly how she was feeling if one listened just right. Even with an outsider watching, they could still talk, and speak, to each other.

Not now, though. He grimaced as Karasuma walked into the room at the end of the day, shuffling through the papers quickly as they both struggled to look at one another without meeting eyes. He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost time to go. Normally Kenshio would leave first, then he would walk out with Miho, Hattori would sometimes shuffle out with them, and last, Michael would lock up. Today, though, everything was different. Kenshio seemed to be stuck at her desk, tapping away on the computer; Hattori hadn't even come in, calling in about his mother being ill that morning. Karasuma was the only one that was making any move to leave, and though he was anxious to get out himself, the thought of being in the elevator alone with her, and the small, nervous talk that they would make- as if they were two 12 year olds on their first date - kept him firmly in his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then raised his head to watch her retreating back.

Tomorrow, he promised himself, looking back to his computer screen, tomorrow I'll talk to her; tell her that it's alright. He glanced at the closing elevator doors one last time, thinking that she would be facing the window; watching the ground come up to meet her as he knew she often did. But she was facing the office, reaching for the same last glance that he had wanted. All of their hard work in avoiding each other was for nothing; a split second of eye-contact seemed to shatter his heart and mend it again in one stroke. She was a friend, more that a friend, being out-of-sorts with her felt like fumbling blind for something in the middle of the night. He knew she was there, felt like he knew how to reach her, but for the life of him couldn't touch her. He wished that he could, now.

He started from his thoughts when Kenshio rose from her computer. She glanced at him once, nodded to him, and then nodded to Michael. With her usual briskness, she gathered her things, called the elevator, and left. Sakaki turned back to his computer and frowned as he saw the time. “Is it just me,” he said to Michael, “or did she leave really late today?”

Michael shrugged, the tapping of his foot matching the base in his music. Sakaki wondered how in the world Michael could hear him, and how he could answer without missing a letter in his typing. “I wondered the same thing,” the hacker said, “so I checked out her keystrokes. Nothing much, really.”

“I still don't know about her,” Sakaki said, sitting back, “she's so spy-like that it makes me wonder what she's really here for.”

The hacker pulled out his earphones and turned, shrugging. “I checked out her file after that incident with Single-Eye you and Miss Karasuma had. She's been with SOLOMON since she was twelve, when she started training, and reached the highest hunter status at twenty-two. She specializes in information gathering and strategy.”

Sakaki whistled. “She's been with SOLOMON for fifteen years?”

“Uh huh. Her inquisition was traditional, and the cardinal who did it recommended her for Hunter training.”

Sakaki winced at the mention of inquisitions. He had been through a light one only two years ago, as every person with an awakened craft went through before being accepted as a Hunter and assigned a post. Still, it had been one of the most frightening experiences of his life, and that included the factory. “Guess that rules her out as a spy outside of SOLOMON,” he said.

“Got that right. I read her recommendations, and everyone mentions first her intensity, and then her loyalty to SOLOMON.”

Sakaki grunted. “Guess we were right the first time,” he said, “She's probably here to keep an eye on us.”

Michael chuckled, “That'd be my guess,” he said, and spun on his chair back to the computer screen, returning his headphones to his ears again in the same move.

Sakaki sighed, also turning back to his desk. Glancing at the clock, he realized that it had been nearly ten minutes since Kenshio left. She would be well out of the garage now, and he wouldn't have to deal with trying to ignore her quiet intensity. He shut down his computer, grabbing his helmet and jacket as he called the elevator.

“Going home?” Michael asked.

“Yeah,” Sakaki replied, his manner preoccupied, “I'm done here.”

The elevator doors slid open, and Sakaki began to walk inside. Halfway through, Michael stopped him though, “Sakaki?”

He turned, placing a hand on the frame and leaning against it, “Yeah?”

Micheal paused for a moment, for a moment looking like Robin at her most hesitant. Sakaki smiled at the thought; Michael had really liked Robin, he'd admitted as much to Sakaki a few weeks after the fire wielder and Amon had disappeared. It was amazing to see how much the hacker resembled the girl at times. When Michael found his voice, though, the similarity abruptly ended. “Whatever's going on with you and Miss Karasuma…work it out, will you? It isn't any of my business, but you both looked miserable the whole day, and I've never seen two people work harder to avoid each other.”

Sakaki blinked twice at Michael, all thoughts of Robin erased. “That obvious, huh?”

Michael nodded.

Sakaki brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, frustrated and confused at the same time. “Guess I'm not surprised,” he said, and then smiled, “Don't worry, we're just…” he groped for the right words, and finally had to lamely settle for, “a little confused.”

“Sure, Sakaki, it's alright. I was just…worried.” Michael said, and then shrugged, “go on, I'll lock up soon.”

Sakaki stepped through the door the rest of the way, frowning out of the paned elevator. His words to Michael had been completely true, at least for him, and in more than one way. Not only was his situation with her confusing at the moment, but his entire relationship with her. He had been out of sorts with co-workers before, Karasuma had ordered him off hunts occasionally when he had first come to the STN-J, Amon had once reprimanded him for leaving the team and promptly told him how partners functioned. Michael, during his imprisonment, had every once in a while gone sour when Sakaki mentioned going somewhere. He knew what it felt like to be in a mild argument or awkwardness with a co-worker. But this was different. This was practically torture, and that Michael had noticed both of them looking miserable, and said something, spoke volumes to him about the situation. Michael knew them both well, but he was shy at heart, and it would have taken a lot to get him to speak up.

Sakaki sighed, exiting the elevator as he grabbed his keys from his pocket. He stuck them into the ignition when he reached his bike, mounting it and pulling on his gloves and helmet before turning the keys. The engine coughed and spluttered for a moment, settled into a contented purr, then coughed and spluttered again; this time dying.

Perplexed, he tried the ignition again, to achieve the same result. The third time the engine barely emitted a sound before choking. Sakaki resisted the urge to try a fourth time. Whatever was wrong, he wasn't helping by continuing to try the ignition. Groaning, he dismounted the bike and peered at the dials in the steering.

His jaw dropped. He was out of gas? How had he managed to ignore that little detail? Standing back from his bike, he put his hands in his pockets and grunted. “Huh. What a way to end a day.” With a shrug, he left his helmet by the bike and started on foot out of the garage. There was a gas station not far from the office; a five minute walk at most. It was a nice day too, but he couldn't suppress a grumble as he broke into the sunlight. He wanted to get home and contemplate, not shell out money for gas and a container.

He was a block away from the station, deep in thought, when movement at the corner of his eye made him look up. To his right was an alleyway, where the movement sprang from. He looked closer, eyes focusing on an older, weathered man standing against the wall and looking straight at him. Single-Eye. The recognition was instantaneous, and Sakaki's first reaction, to run after the man and hunt him down, nearly won out. He had taken three steps into the alley and reached into his jacket before he realized how stupid he was being. He had no back-up, no information, he didn't even have Michael. He stopped, hand already half-way withdrawn from his jacket. The bastard knew that Sakaki couldn't go after him, too, otherwise he wouldn't have been standing there so openly.

Sakaki knew for a fact that if it he had been Amon, he probably would have gone after him anyway. If it had been half a year ago, he would have gone after him anyway. But now he knew his limitations, and he knew that the smartest thing to do would be to walk away, go straight back and report to Michael that Single-Eye was in the area, and they could still track him if they got out there quickly. And so, giving Single-Eye a glance of pure venom, he turned on his heel to leave the alley for the street, all thoughts of more gasoline forgotten.

Upon reflection later, he would kick himself for not noticing the figure in the shadows, the footsteps behind him, or just for turning his back in the first place. Suddenly, there was a thump, and someone had jumped onto his back. A cloth appeared in front of his mouth, the distinct sting of chloroform filling his senses. On first inhalation, the poison actually spurred him into action, reaching back to take hold of his attacker's head, which slipped from his grasp when he took the second breath of anesthetic. He coughed, the kick-backs drawing more tainted air into his lungs, making his eyes water and his mind fog over. Not a fucking chance in hell, he thought to himself, this is not how Sakaki Haruto is going under. Gathering what he could find of his thoughts, he blindly reached for his craft and pushed as hard as he could.

His shoulders nearly popped out of his sockets as the attacker resisted, but in the end, he won, his telekinesis hurling the person off of him and on to the alley wall. He took a deep breath of clean air before forcing his numb fingers to movement, drawing his gun and turning to train it on the figure that had slid down the wall and was also training its gun on him.

His mind reeled. “Kenshio?”

She didn't say anything to him, spitting to the side and muttering “Goddamnit. I told her,” to herself.

“Who?” Sakaki asked, not caring if the comment was not made to him, “Who did you tell what?”

“That is not of your concern,” she said, staggering to her feet, “Right now your concern should be proving to me that you are worth keeping alive.”

Sakaki stared at the replacement, wondering exactly what she meant by that. The thought that came to him made his blood run cold. It all worked out, he and Miho had thought of it themselves. Kenshio, a spy from SOLOMON, sent to keep an eye on them. Who was to say that she wouldn't get orders to hunt one of them?

“They've decided to hunt me?” he asked, voice a lot less brave then he would have liked it.

Kenshio began to chuckle, as if she would have found it funny; provided she ever found anything funny. It was an empty laughter, bouncing hollowly along the alley walls, accosting his ears. “So that's your greatest fear, hunter?” she said, voice harsh and clear, “To finally be on the other end of that gun? To pay for hunting your own kind by being hunted?”

Sakaki did not answer immediately, mostly because Kenshio had just spoken his thoughts exactly. His first instinct was to become defensive, ask what she knew about it, how difficult it was becoming to pull the trigger on others that he now knew were very similar to him; all too similar. He saw the green of the holding tanks in his dreams some nights, still felt those rushing final moments in the factory, when everything in the entire world had depended on the ladder he and Michael were suspended on. But then he stopped. What kind of hunter, when killing a rampant witch, would utter those words?

None that he knew, that was for sure. No, it sounded like someone who had a grudge against him for hunting. But that didn't make sense; Kenshio was supposedly one of the most loyal of SOLOMON's hunters. A little voice in the back of his head reminded him that Amon had been the same way. Until he had turned sides for Robin. “You aren't really a hunter, are you?” he asked slowly, though his gun did not move.

Kenshio seemed surprised that he had put the pieces together so quickly, and hesitated almost imperceptibly before saying, “Perhaps. Are you?”

“I don't see any reason to be honest with you unless you do me the same courtesy,” he said haughtily.

She snarled, “And I the same. But I hold the answers, and you want them.”

“I can live without them.”

“No, you won't.”

Sakaki caught her meaning immediately. Unless he listened to her, he would die. And unless he gave her the answers she wanted, she would not let him hear what she had to say. But he had no idea what she wanted to hear. He now knew that she was not here for SOLOMON, which was a relief in itself, but it also put him in the position of guessing what her objective really was. “Maybe not,” he said, “Who gives you the power to judge?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Why do you hunt those who have done nothing but live?”

There was something familiar about the words they were exchanging, it felt formal, directed. His reply was quick and fluid, as if it had been rehearsed before, “I hunt; it is what I was trained for.”

“Certainly, you were trained for it, as I was, but you did not answer my question; why do you hunt?”

He opened his mouth to give the answer that hovered at the back of his mouth, and stopped. Suddenly he realized why it had felt so strangely familiar. This had the same form as an inquisition. Using words and layered meanings to judge a man or woman for hunting. But he knew Kenshio was no inquisitor; only ranking church officials could attain that place in SOLOMON. And she was trying to lead him to a different admission: whereas for SOLOMON, he would have had to avoid any sympathy to witches, she was looking for that sympathy. “I hunt because it is the only thing I know how to do,” he said.

“It is the only thing you have been taught,” she said ferociously, “do you believe it is the only way?”

He glared. Even with his life on the line, he was not prepared to open his heart to the replacement, but the truth was, he did not. “No.”

She sent him a cutting glance, and clicked the safety on, turning her gun away from him. “If that is the truth, then it will please you to know that others think the same.”

“Who?” Sakaki asked, returning her gesture of trust by turning his own gun away, though he did not put the safety on.

“Others. We work together to awaken witches and teach them control, rather than fear. We are freeing witches from ignorance and fear of their own power. Fear is not a gentle teacher.”

For a moment, Sakaki agreed, but then her words fell into place. Single-Eye had had an accomplice, an unknown, darker figure that stayed in the shadows. The revelation was confirmed when he spun around and saw Single-Eye again, this time only feet from him. Without a second thought, he leveled his gun on the man. Single-Eye had attacked him twice, though only once with success, and attacked Miho at least once with a great deal of success. He refused to be had again. But just as his gun fell into aim, he felt Kenshio's gun on the back of his neck, then cold click of the safety ringing in his ears.

“You would die with him,” she said, but Sakaki did not move.

Single-Eye sighed. “Kasu, can't you do anything without being melodramatic?” he asked. Sakaki was surprised at how level his voice was, how incredibly sane he sounded. And that was to say nothing of his words; didn't the man realize that there was a gun trained on him at point-blank range? The witch looked straight at Sakaki with a blank face. “Evening. She hasn't told you a thing yet, has she?”

“She certainly didn't mention you.” Sakaki said with a growl. “I didn't realize you had to work with a mad-man to free the witch world.”

“Oh, so she did tell you something? I'm surprised.”

Single-Eye was being blasé to a fault about the whole thing, which put Sakaki strangely on edge. Was he under Kenshio's protection, and not worried? “What hasn't she told me?” he asked cautiously.

“Lots of things. Most of them need to be experienced, and we can't let you do that unless we know that you won't betray us.” Single-Eye replied with a shrug.

Sakaki sighed in frustration. He had already figured that much out. What did they want to hear from him? “And how can I prove that to you?” he asked, “You obviously aren't too keen on taking my word for it, and I'm not about to go through an initiation ceremony.”

Single-Eye chuckled, and Sakaki thought he heard a snarl from Kenshio, but he wasn't sure. “You might start by taking your sights off of me. Personally, I don't care whether I live or die, and I doubt anyone else really does; but if you die, I know at least one person who would be miserable.”

Sakaki's eyebrows rose. Then, cautiously, he put the safety on his gun and lowered it. Who in the world could he and Single-Eye have in common? Besides Kenshio, who was obviously off the list as she was the one threatening his life, he couldn't think of anyone…except…

He frowned as an idea came to him. “Why are you telling me?”

Kenshio frowned; face clouding over as if he had just mentioned a death in the family. Single-Eye looked at her, seeming vaguely amused. “She didn't want to. There was an ultimatum put up that she couldn't refuse, though.”

He put the pieces together as fast as he could. Single-Eye and Kenshio were the two people that they had been hunting for the past few months. But the most recent hunt had included a third person, and if that woman who had used Miho as a model for a description for the third person had actually seen Miho... He remembered the pain in her voice when she had said that she trusted him. “Miho,” he whispered, “You've already told Miho.” Single-Eye smiled, and Sakaki knew that he was right. She had known, she had been involved in this, and she had wanted to tell him. Had she really put Kenshio to an ultimatum like that? For him? “Is she really that valuable to you?” he asked. Kenshio had always seemed like such a solo act, it was strange that she would admit to relying on anyone.

“More than you realize.” Kenshio said dully. She seemed to have given up on the tough act, falling back on a reserved and cold manner.

“And she put you to an ultimatum? What if I had said no? What if I had refused to listen to you?”

Kenshio met his gaze, her piercing eyes striking him like a blow to the chest. “I would have lost her. She will not do it without you, Sakaki Haruto. If I lose you, then I lose her as well.”

Something in his heart swelled to hear that, though the words were somewhat disturbing. Unwittingly, he had been in charge of both their lives for a moment. The revelation showed just how much Miho trusted him, his decisions, and his actions. He looked at Single-Eye and grunted. He supposed that his sudden acceptance of the situation when he had finally figured out her involvement in it showed his reciprocate trust. Even if it did include Single-Eye, if Miho had decided that the cause was worth the risk, he would follow. “I guess that decides it, then,” he murmured.

“You have not said, `yes' yet.” Kenshio reminded him.

“I thought not killing you would have been `yes' enough.”

“Then you are accepting? You understand what we are doing?”

“Yes,” Sakaki answered firmly. “I understand.”

Kenshio nodded, and handed him a card with an address and a time. Sakaki recognized the name of a semi-upscale restaurant. “Meet me here in two hours.” she said, “I will tell you everything you need to know then.”

He stared down at the little card for awhile as Kenshio and Single-Eye walked out, going opposite ways when they reached the sidewalk. It was like something out of a spy movie, he thought. Except, this time, he was just the one in the middle; instead of the hero. Then again, he hadn't tried to play the hero for a long time. Eventually, it had just become a tiring game of killing and trying to avoid being killed.

Still frowning, he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked out of the alley. Directly to his left as he came out was a container of gasoline, mostly full. For a moment, he stared at it with dead eyes; then snorted humorlessly and picked it up, starting back to Raven's Flat. By the time he got home, he would only have an hour to get ready before going to dinner with the replacement.

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Karasuma woke the next morning with her jaw clenched and mind still lagging in her dreams. They had been confusing almost to the point of pain, and while she usually didn't read into her dreams, it had been so vivid that it was hard to ignore. And yet, though she remembered the dreams as being vivid, when she tried to grasp them and study them, the images slipped from her grasp. Still lying in bed, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to conjure the pictures back to her mind, but they remained on the edges of her consciousness, teasing her.

She bit back a moan, realizing that she couldn't waste time in bed, chasing after faded dreams. As she got up, began to dress, and go about her routine, the lump in her throat grew harder and harder to swallow around. She had been avoiding thinking about it all morning, but she knew that Kenshio had, one way or the other, told Sakaki about the coven the night before.

Again, she shied away from the thought of it, not wanting to contemplate what might be. What if he didn't come to work? What if he simply wasn't there? She wasn't sure what she would do, and thinking about the possibility only made the lump in her throat grow. Of course, it could be that he was alive and well, but wouldn't speak to her. She had kept it from him, after all, had kept that she was working with a spy and Sakaki's arch enemy, if the man had ever had one. Honestly, she wasn't sure which would be worse; Sakaki dead and her very likely soon to follow, or Sakaki angry enough to not speak to her, to keep her at arms length and not trust her again.

Surely death? She wasn't sure. Death and the chance to be unaware of the world around her, the chance to be, for once, blissfully ignorant? Or life, to be physically near but emotionally removed from someone that she felt she had finally connected with? What kind of choice is that? She asked herself. But she knew that if Sakaki had chosen to join the movement, if he had lived, then she would be content. Even if he did refuse to speak to her.

Frowning once more at her reflection in the mirror, she caught her keys on her hand and walked out the door to face the day.

~^~

The day was, unfortunately, quiet again. Sakaki repressed a sigh as he watched Miho make a cup of tea, her hands steady but the rest of her on edge. It almost seemed like yesterday all over again. Well, he amended, not quite. Today his mind was still swimming in information that Kenshio had given him. Today he knew Miho's reasons. He wasn't confused any more, but what he wanted to talk to her about couldn't exactly be spoken about at the office, where hidden cameras could possibly catch their every word. And he didn't feel that he could speak to her until he had said what he needed to. He wasn't sure why she wasn't speaking to him, though, and finally decided that she was waiting for him to make the first move.

And so, not being able to talk to each other, they went through the day in silence again. He was in the middle of revising a case file when she walked past him and into the elevator, resolutely facing away from the office as she waited for the doors to close. As he watched, though, he saw her arms reach up to hug her elbows, and caught a tremor in her shoulders before the elevator doors closed. He sighed to himself and turned back to the file. Even if he hurried, he wouldn't be able to catch her, a thought which depressed him somewhat. He didn't take his time, though, not wanting to have to lie to Michael if the hacker asked what was wrong, now that he knew what was coming between him and his partner.

It was fifteen minutes before he was able to punch the button to call the elevator up. He glanced out the window as he waited for the doors to open, and saw that the dark clouds that had been hovering over the city all day had finally given up a light rain. Though it was only six-thirty, it looked like ten o'clock at night, and the street lights had already turned on. Sighing, he stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the garage, morosely watching the ground rush up to meet him. The movement stopped, and he turned to exit. Half way to his bike, he paused, looking to his right. In it's usual place stood Miho's car.

He frowned. She had left nearly twenty minutes ago, why was her car still here? He knew that he hadn't seen her while going out, so it wasn't that she had forgotten something. Taking off his gloves, he rested a hand on the hood. As far as he could tell, the car hadn't been turned on recently at all; it was cold as the air around him.

Worried, he looked around, wondering what had happened to her. It was like she had gotten on the elevator and disappeared. He beat down panic that rose in his chest, trying to think logically. Maybe there had been something wrong with her car, and she had needed to go to the gas station, much like him yesterday. Following that train of thought, he wandered to the opening in the garage, peering around to try and catch a glimpse of her.

He hadn't expected to be successful, but as he looked across the street to the small park there, he saw her sitting on one of the benches under a lamp, shielded from the light rain by a tree branch that hung over her like a protecting arm. He sighed in relief. His imagination had wanted to run away with him, thinking of her hunted without speaking to him again…he shook himself. There were no cameras in the park, he was fairly sure of that; he would make sure that something like that didn't happen.

Bare hands in his pockets, he stole across the street and into the park, walking along the wet cemented path to reach her. She had her hands folded in her lap, and stared at them tiredly, though he knew that she heard him coming. Even when he came to a stop in front of her, looking down at the top of her head, the beads of rain water trapped in her hair, she didn't look up at him, though it was the only thing he really wanted.

“I-“ she started, and swallowed, “I'll understand if you hate me,” she finally said quietly.

He looked at her in surprise. Was that what she had thought the whole day? That he hated her? “No, I don't hate you.” He said, and added, “I don't think I could.”

He could almost feel her sad smile as she asked, “Are you sure? I've been working with the enemy, sort of.”

He shifted. The thought had occurred to him that she had been working with Single-Eye for a week, the one witch that he had been really sorry got away. “I'm a little confused as to who the enemy, now,” he said, shifting in place, “but it isn't you.” He sighed, seeing the slight movement of her facial muscles as she blinked in surprise, “It could never be you.” He finished quietly.

For a moment, she was silent, seeming to digest this information. “What did you say?” she asked after a moment.

He smiled somewhat ironically, knowing that she could feel his smile just as he could feel the nervous clench of her jaw. “I said yes, of course. They would have killed me otherwise.”

“Is that why?” she asked, “Because they would have killed you?”

He sighed. “No. It had something to do with it, but that wasn't it.”

“Why then?” Her hands clenched around each other a little tighter, “I-I want to know, if your doing it for the same reasons I am.”

“If you're doing it for Robin, then yes.”

He heard her sigh lightly. “Yes.”

Something in him paused as he looked at her, and suddenly, he wanted to see her face, look her in the eye and tell her that everything was fine. He knelt; lowering his head and looking up so that she faced him without moving. She seemed surprised, but did not move as he said, “I'm doing it for other reasons too, Miho.”

She blinked, and a tear made it's way down her cheek. He reached a bare hand from his side and put it to her cheek, wiping the tear away with his thumb.

She gasped slightly as his cold hand met her face, and suddenly felt him there more acutely then she ever had before. Without her meaning it to, her craft jumped out and scryed him, the contact with human skin making it easier then it usually was. She closed her eyes and heard Kenshio's voice, as it had spoken to him the day before. `She will not do it without you, Sakaki Haruto. If I lose you, then I lose her as well.' What came next bowled her over, as he suddenly decided that if she had gone with them, then he would follow. She opened her eyes, ending the connection, and looked at him for a long moment. He had realized that he would follow her anywhere, to the depths of hell if need be, and she was not surprised to learn that if it came to that, she would do the same. “Haruto…” she whispered quietly, reaching out to lay her own hand on his cheek, feeling him lean into her touch.

“Now you understand.” He said quietly, eyes connecting with hers and holding.

She studied him for a moment, noticing how the rain had caught in his eyelashes, how he felt warm to her hand, and her breath caught. “Yes,” she said quietly, and leaned down, pressing her lips to his in a slow, sweet kiss that she savored as best she could. He did not pull away, closing his eyes with her and sliding his hand from her cheek to the base of her neck, making her shiver with its coldness there.

It lasted only a breath, but it was enough, and they broke easily, opening their eyes and blinking at one another, as if confused. He reached up and ran a hand through her hair slowly, then disengaged as she slid her hand across his face one last time and let go. Then they both rose at the same time and walked from the light of the lamp, arms linked around each other as easily as two vines grown together in the summer time.

The rain continued to fall, oblivious.

~^~

^.^ A thoroughly enjoyable chapter.

Still no beta.