Because some horrible hour of morning is always the best time to plan a KanoKido fic. *mumbles* But really almost all the characters practically ship themselves in this fandom...or is it just me? Anyway, peculiarities within the writing I apologize for, I started this about midnight, fell asleep, and now I'm running on jet lag.

But those THE DECEIVING SPOILERS messed up my idea of Kano because NOW HE'S TOO COMPLICATED I guess I need to read the novels now.

On a third note: (games)(usvsth3m)com(/2048/manga-shintaros-faces-edition/) OH MY GOD THIS WILL

KagePro belongs to Jin.

I think I created the characters horribly. Fwah too late now I wasted all day on this instead of doing my chem homework and I abused the dash key too OKAY JUST GO

This may actually be my longest doc.

Review! :D

There was fire. All around her, fire, and her things burned, the wallpaper curled downwards in big black strips and blackened and crumbled. She stood in the middle of it, and felt the heat like an oven opened inches from her body, and she screamed, crouching down and curling in on herself like her own piece of withering wallpaper. I'm going to die here, burn to a crisp with eyes...

The fire closed in around her.

And she jolted awake, drenched with sweat, sharp little nails digging into her palms. "Onee-chan?"

Her voice was thin and weak in the darkness, and the comforting bulk of her older sister didn't rise. She snuggled further down into the hoodie that Ayano had given her, hiding herself in its purple folds. Nothing could hurt her in there. Onee-chan had promised.

But the fire seemed so close, and the stifling sweaty warmth of the hoodie didn't seem safe to her anymore. She felt the tears pressing at the back of her eyes and pushed her palms into them. She would not cry, would not lower herself to doing that again. But it seemed as if her tears weren't listening, and they overflowed onto her crescent-stamped palms.

Then she heard a rustle, and looked over. On the other side of Ayano was where Seto and Kano were lying, and Kano was looking over at her, his face worried. He raised a hand and beckoned in that ever-familiar movement, and she crawled over Ayano - who remained stubbornly asleep - and over Seto - whom she expected to remain asleep - until she could lie next to Kano.

He was clearly uncomfortable by her proximity - even when at the orphanage, the space they'd shared had never seemed this intimate - but she ignored it. Here, next to him, she felt safe. Kano hesitantly offered her a shoulder to cry on, and she let herself use it to get rid of those tears of horror.

And she felt safe. The fire couldn't reach her, or Seto, or even big sister Ayano now.

Kano lay still as a stone, unsure of how to deal with girls. Or at least crying ones. Kido, for all her stubborn bravery at times, was also vulnerable when it came to certain things.

Like our lives before. The blond would always flinch away from thinking about his mother, just as Seto would deliberately avert his eyes whenever a stray dog crossed the street. There was no sense in dredging up old and painful memories when they had their family now, Ayano and Ayaka and Kenjirou. They were a dysfunctional family. They were a family. Where you could say "Good morning!" to someone in the morning when you saw them and "Good night!" to them at the end of the day, with no worries that you wouldn't get to see them tomorrow.

And they were happy here.

Kido had burrowed her face into his arm, her body shaking with silent sobs. He knew bits and pieces of her past, but the three of them operated under a don't ask, don't tell sort of mindset. Their lives before here were bad dreams, and that's exactly what Kido had had.

Gingerly, as if the green-haired girl were going to burst into flame, he wrapped his arms around her, keeping the lightest pressure. And then he started humming, a quiet, plaintive melody. He'd heard it before, but not sure from where. Like a song woven from the back of his mind. The fabric of dreams? He didn't know. He was only six.

But gradually Kido stopped her tears, and her breathing fell into an even and regular rhythm. She accepted the comfort he gave, and returned it by nestling close to him, as they'd done back at the orphanage on cold nights.

The deceiver felt a warm glow inside him - finally doing something right.

Outside the window, the stars whirled overhead.

It was an ordinary summer day. Warm, enticing, with buttery sunlight illuminating the ground. Ayano was off at the after school program, attempting to fix her grades to a reasonable standard. The three of them had left already, and were enjoying the day with a walk in the park. At some point, Kano had left for a "prior engagement." He was acting very mysterious about it, but they'd grown up with his mysteriousness, and they were used to it. They walked on, laughing and chatting.

"What day is it?" asked Seto offhandedly, glancing at the brilliant azure sky.

"August 15th," said Kido in her usual terse manner.

"It's a nice day," offered Seto.

"It's a little too warm for me," returned Kido, but she turned her face to the sun anyway, suddenly remembering the warmth of a black hoodie she'd slept with her face pressed into. A flush crept up her cheeks at the memory. That was five years ago...why do I remember it now?

"You're blushing," observed Seto placidly. "Whatcha thinkin' bout?"

"I'm not blushing!" Kido protested hotly, the heat in her cheeks flaming brighter. "I'm just warm."

"Really?" Seto cocked an eyebrow. "I bet you're thinking about a guy. You are, aren't you? Who is he?"

"Why don't you go talk to that girl you found in the woods?" snapped the green-haired girl. "I'm sure you think about her, too."

"Mary is really nice, though!" Now it was Seto's turn to protest. "It's not like she's uncivilized or anything. And besides, you've known her for years, too. I thought you liked her."

"I do like her. I was just trying to..." Kido sighed and pushed the hood off her head. "Never mind. Let's just enjoy the day."

Seto happily obliged.

Ayano wasn't home for dinner.

Neither was Kano.

Kenjirou wasn't either, but that was something of a blessing, since after Ayaka had died in the landslide, he was much quieter, withdrawn, and preoccupied. Plus, he couldn't cook.

"Where has everyone gone?" Seto curiously walked through the house. "Hello? Anyone home?"

Kido wandered into Kenjirou's office. It was dark, the windows pulled shut. A few dirty dishes tottered on the end of his desk, and she instinctively rushed forwards to right them. As her fingers brushed the cool glass, she noticed an open file on top of the masses of scattered (sometimes stained) paper. She knew she shouldn't, but it was so open, so inviting...and who would ever know about it, anyway?

Kido moved forwards, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and tilted her head to read her adoptive father's slanted handwriting. Never one for neat handwriting, his scribbled font looked far worse now. She squinted at it, and made out only a few words. ...not reacting well...more...anger at her captivity may be causing a negative effect... Worried, she looked at the next page in the bundle. There were a few blurred photographs paper-clipped to more messy writing. She was about to try and decipher it when she heard the front door bang open.

Sure it was Kenjirou, sure she was about to be caught, she disappeared, concealed from view by her red eyes. The plates spilled to the floor and loudly shattered. Shards of glass flew everywhere, and she winced.

It wasn't Kenjirou.

"Kano!" she heard Seto exclaim, and then feet up the stairs and a slammed door. She ran from the room to find Seto staring up the stairs, a look of worry drawing a line between his brows. "What happened?"

"I have no idea," he replied. Puzzled, he started up the stairs. "Kano? Are you all right?"

"Go away!" A hoarse shout, so unlike the normal voice of their friend. "Leave me alone."

The two on the stairs exchanged a worried glance and simultaneously headed up, where they found the door locked. Seto rattled the knob a few times, but it was futile. He'd once known how to pick this lock. It had originally been the room that belonged to the four of them, but as a they reached a certain age, they required privacy, and had to split up. Kano had gotten the original room.

"We're here for you," said the brave boy, and leaned his forehead against the door. "Just let us in."

Kido sank into a sitting position by the door and closed her eyes. "Where's Ayano? And Kenjirou?" she whispered softly to the wood. "Are they okay? Did anything happen?"

All she heard was sobbing. "Please, Kano. We're here for you."

And they were there for him. From outside his room, while Kano remained inside, a prisoner of his own silence.

Kido was just starting to nod off when the door opened, nearly dumping her full length at Kano's feet. She quickly scrambled back to hers, noting how calm and composed his face was under his tousled blond hair. Hardly the face of someone who'd been in their room crying for the last hour. "Are you all right?"

It was a stupid question, really, but it was one of those worthless little phrases that people were obligated to say. However, it made his entire face ripple and waver, showing a much paler Kano underneath, and then she understood. Ah, he's deceiving us. And then a pang of hurt that he would bother to hide his emotions from them. We've been friends for nearly our entire life! No secrets, but now he was shutting us out?

Almost outraged, she pushed close to him. "What are you thinking? Trying to hide from us? What's happened? We can't help you if you don't say anything."

Seto was gesturing at her to speak less sharply, but it was like waving at a thunderstorm. Kido was on a roll. "You can't lock us out! We want to help you! So come on, please!" Her voice held more pleading and desperation in that last word than the whole of the rest of her speech.

Kano seemed like he wanted to slam the door, but then he abruptly turned away and lunged in a direction, his hands covering his face. He managed to end up in the corner, shoulders heaving with sobs. Kido and Seto were right on his heels, more than worry in their hearts now. Cold fear grabbed at them.

They sat in the corner next to him for a while, the dark-haired boy on one side, the green-haired girl on the other.

"What happened?" Seto leaned his head against Kano's. Kido wrapped her arms around the blond, silent, remembering the dim, distant memory of the two of them reversed, Kano comforting her against the crackling darkness.

Kano lifted his head, the mask dropped. His face was pale, but for redness around his gold eyes and nose. His face was smeared with damp tears that he made no effort to hide.

Seto stared at him, made eye contact for half a second (his eyes flashed red, but they were used to that), and then broke away. His shoulders slumped, and the corners of his mouth tugged downwards. Tears started welling up in his own eyes.

"What is it? Come on!" Kido heard the panic in her voice and hated herself for it.

Seto turned his teary eyes on her. "Ayano...she's dead."

Suddenly cold, Kido stared in shock. Her voice was a dry little mouse whisper. "What?"

"She's dead," spat Kano harshly and suddenly. "Jumped off the school building and splattered her brains out all over the ground, ha ha. Blood everywhere. I was..." He erupted into sobs again.

"How much did you see?" Suddenly, his voice.

"What?"

"Seto, how much did you see?"

Taken aback by the intensity of the question, Seto stammered, "N-not much, but for onee-chan's brains splatte-" he couldn't finish. Brave boy was not brave enough.

Kido felt her face starting to crumple, tears forming, but on the inside, she was a black pit of shock and horror. "But...but why would she? S-she was all right, wasn't she? Not d-depressed or a-anything, w-was she?" A comet streak of water on her face, and that triggered the downpour. They huddled together in the corner of Kano's room, all three in tears, as evening darkened towards night.

At one point Kano sniffled, opened his mouth, shut it, then tried again; "She gave me this..." And out from his pocket came the red scarf, her red scarf, and seeing it released fresh tears.

Reverently, Seto unwound it. It dripped through his fingers like blood as he wrapped it around the three of them, and they inhaled the familiar scent of her; faded flowers, a little sweat, everything that made up their onee-chan. Red is the color of heroes! whispered a tantalizing fragment of her voice in Kido's mind.

Ayano, onee-chan. Gone forever.

She impulsively grabbed Kano's hand, or he grabbed hers; she wasn't quite sure which way around it was. The sky was black, spangled with stars, but if she closed her eyes she could see a different black, stifling and hot, and then a third, soft as the fabric of Kano's hoodie, and a song. A thread of a melody, really, bittersweet and beautiful, and it felt so much like Ayano that she had to hum it.

Kido put her lips to Kano's ear and let him hear the melody, too; she could tell by the way he stiffened in her arms that he recognized it. Seto was quiet on the other side of him, and she wasn't sure if he was merely sleeping or thinking. After a moment, Kano started weeping again, but silently this time, and he squeezed her hand so tightly she thought the bones would crack.

She became uncomfortably aware of how warm his skin was. His hair tickled her nose, and she made to pull away, but Kano, in a broken whisper she'd remember for the rest of her life, told her, "Please, don't stop."

So she kept humming, and eventually he hugged her close and tightly, and she would've pulled away from that too, but it felt nice, warm, comforting, and she returned the hug, just as tight as he'd offered it.

The concealer felt a warm glow inside her - finally doing something right.

Outside the window, the stars whirled overhead.

"What pathetic lives," sneered the snake standing above her. The gun, that horrible gun, dangled loosely from his fingers. It had already shot Momo, spitting black projectiles at high speed through the top of her skull, which blew off like a plate full of gray mush. It'd scattered all over Seto, who stared sickly at the ruins of her face, and then angrily rushed at Kuroha, fists clenched. His eyes were wild and red, and he glared Kuroha straight in the face.

Inside of an instant: His eyes had widened, fractionally. Kuroha's smile had grown, fractionally.

And then Seto had lost one of his eyes, a neat little hole appearing where iris and pupil and white had used to be. The shot hardly ruffled his hair. He startled in shock, blood so dark it was black dripping over the contours of his features. His mouth opened, as if in surprise, and then he spun like a top and fell, making a meaty thump as he landed on the crown of bone poking through the top of the idol's head.

Mary's mouth opened wide in a scream as she knelt in a pool of blood.

Kido thought he might've been still alive, still moving perhaps, but then she was diverted by Kuroha lifting the gun again. She pulled at Kano, who seemed frozen in place, and screamed, "Run!"

How had it come to this?

It had been another normal day. An exceptionally fine, warm and sticky summer day. They were talking, sitting together in headquarters. TMary was in her room, cutting the paper flowers to sell, and Seto was assisting her. Kano was needling Momo, as he usually did. Though Kido liked the idol, it was better than Kano irritating her. Shintaro was at the computer, can of soda in hand, squabbling with Ene, whose high-pitched voice was audible even over Kano taunting, "But what about your manager? D'you lift your skirts for him? Then why not me?"

"So, Master, you give me permission to post your private photo online?" The blue-haired cyber girl giggled. "With plea-"

"NO!" Shintaro screeched, knocking over the soda in his haste to - to what? Shake the computer? Threaten to turn it off? Kido knew the NEET too well for him to do that. He was addicted to it.

"Ene, look what you've done!" Sticky brown liquid soaked into the keyboard. "You'd better not have broken it agai-"

Kido turned her attention back to the music she was listening to, sticking the earbud back in. Right now, she was listening to a particularly catchy song by the name of Blindfold Code. She privately thought it would be her theme song, if she had one, but expressing thoughts like that near Kano was a bad idea. He possessed the remarkable talent to take anything one said and turn it into a weapon.

As irritating as he was, though, she couldn't forget the broken boy sobbing in the corner of his room.

But none of that, she thought firmly. Enjoy the music. Enjoy the music. Enjoy the musi-

Konoha burst in, which was odd of him. Everything about the white-haired one was laid-back and relaxed. Was he out of negima again? she wondered idly. We're running low on food, anyway, we might as well go shopping-

But one look at his face told a different story. "I have...I have a very painful headache," he said slowly, and rubbed a hand over his face. A peculiar expression settled over his usually neutral face.

Shintaro stood up. "There's some aspirin in the cabinet."

Konoha suddenly doubled over in pain. "Aah-" Everyone jumped to assist him, but he flung out his hand - nearly hitting Mary in the chest when she'd come down to see what the noise was - and said, roughly, "Stay back, I think something is happening-" Another spasm of pain wracked his body, and his hands flew from where they'd been folded across his stomach to grip the sides of his head.

Ene flew from the computer to Shintaro's phone left on the counter, filling the screen with her worried face. "Ha- Konoha? Konoha?" Her voice was rising in frantic trills.

"Ene," grunted Konoha. "Ene..." Then his red eyes widened. "Taka-"

One final spasm sent him convulsing to the floor. "Konoha!" Ene's shriek was so loud Kido had to cover her ears, never mind the music.

Then he rose, but he wasn't Konoha. His hair was black, his eyes were yellow, and that birthmark of his was a bloody red. He stretched languorously - Kido noted with dazed wonder that his clothing too had changed to black - and said, with a silky smile, "Call me Kuroha."

And then he'd promptly slammed his fist down on Ene, no, into the device and around her throat, and flung a pair of scissors towards Shintaro with enough force to pin him to the wall. The NEET gurgled, scrabbled at his neck for a few seconds, and then fell still. Momo screamed his name and reached towards her brother, only to be cruelly hauled back when Kano grabbed her arm.

That was when they'd decided to run. Kido quickly outpaced the others, headphones falling from her ears, iPod crunched to dust under the feet of the others. "Kido!" panted Seto. "Wait for us, too-" And with utmost reluctance she slowed, not wanting to become any closer than absolutely necessary to the snake.

Kuroha. She hated the name, hated him already. With good reason, too. He'd taken out three members already...and he'd just sprung into existence. At this rate, they would all die in minutes. Kido shook the thought from her head. Think positive. You're the first member, Mekakushi Dan No. 1. They look up to you, and-

Then Hibiya screamed, and she turned in time to see a truly monstrous truck shoot off from the street and run him down. It hit his twelve-year-old body with the force of a steam train. She imagined she could almost hear his bones cracking and splintering inside him as the impact threw him ten feet. Blood was everywhere. On Seto, on Mary, on Momo, on her... it was as if the boy had exploded. She didn't have to look at the wheel to know that the snake she so hated was at it. Only us five left? Out of nine...

Kano picked up the speed again, passing Kido, weaving across the road in case Kuroha was on their trail with the truck. Chancing a glance over hi shoulder, he saw that the truck was now a smoking wreck against a wall. Dark fluids puddled under it, and whether it was Hibiya's blood or truck juice, he didn't want to know. He swallowed back a lump in his throat and ran on.

Perhaps it was instinct that led him back toward the house he'd lived in for so long. Perhaps it was just blind coincidence. Either way, he nearly skidded to a stop when he saw the house on the corner, abandoned now that they spent most of their time in headquarters. And Ayano and Ayaka are dead...and nobody knows where Kenjirou went...

But the Mekakushi Dan had been his third family, after Kido and Seto, and Ayano and Ayaka and Kenjirou.

They were a dysfunctional family. They were a family. Where you could say "Good morning!" to someone in the morning when you saw them and "Good night!" to them at the end of the day, with no worries that you wouldn't get to see them tomorrow.

Kano remembered thinking that, ten years and another world away. It brought tears to his eyes, and he ducked his head for a moment, barely missing a streetlamp's pole.

Except now, now he worried. How quickly had his life changed; five minutes ago, he was teasing Momo, and now, four of his friends - family - were dead and he was running for his life. He would've laughed, but his lungs were burning, not sucking in enough air to keep his head level. He reached the door, fumbled for they key under the mat, quickly, quickly, turn around, he was coming, he was at the lamp, and a twist of the lock and they were in, another twist and Kuroha was out.

They breathed a collective sigh of relief. Kido then rushed to the bathroom and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet. They then heard the sink running, and the green-haired girl emerged moments later, looking pale and jumpy but refreshed. Hibiya's blood was washed off her face.

"So," said Momo, "what n-"

Her voice was cut off by a tinkling of glass, and a sound like 'ullk'. They turned to see, and the window was shattered and Momo's head was shattered and she was bleeding in an increasingly large radius, and Kuroha climbed over the sharp shards of diamonds and he was inside, he was inside, and then Seto rushed at him and lost his red eyes, and Mary opened her mouth and started wailing like an air-raid siren.

And Kano couldn't stop staring, looking, not deceiving, he hurt too much inside to deceive. That was my best friend. Kousuke Seto. His brain all over the wall. I've known him all my life. Seto. Seto. Seto. He couldn't move, his friend's name a drum in his mind. It was like the sight of the pinkish brain, fragments of white speckling it like stars, was captivating him. He stood, looked down at the hole in the brave boy's face. He could see the carpet through it. It was turning brown.

And Kuroha turned the gun on him, and Kido wrapped her hands around Kano's arm and screamed "Run!"

Not that there was anywhere to run at this point, but anywhere was better than here. In a daze, he stumbled forwards, stretching an arm back towards Mary, who was cradling Seto's face in her hands, sobbing. "We c-can't get her, too," said Kido, near tears. "Come on, Kano, we have to go!"

Kuroha fired a warning shot - there was no way he could miss - and the plaster above their heads was rippled and torn. Kido pulled Kano towards the stairs, and his feet managed to find purchase and lever himself up.

"You can run, but you can't hide!" crooned Kuroha from somewhere behind them. Kido yanked Kano into a room and pulled the door shut, locking it behind her.

"W-what are we g-going t-to d-d-d-" She couldn't finish her sentence, she was trembling so badly. She closed her fists, then relaxed them, then clenched them again. Fresh rivulets of blood dropped to the ground, and she paced angrily around the room. Kano watched silently, his face neutral, though deceivingly so. Under that, he was even more of a mess than she was.

Kido dug her nails into her scalp and pulled, really yanking on the locks, concentrating on the patch of fire on her skull. A lock of hair dropped to the floor, slightly smeared with blood from her hands, and she reached back and started again. Then Kano was there, his hands warm, safe, taking her hands in his. "Don't. Please don't."

And Kano never said please anymore, hadn't ever done it since the broken boy in the corner - this corner, she realized - and this was a shock. But not enough to quench this bubbling feeling inside her, this rage, this frustration. To the surprise of both, Kido drew her fist back and socked him in the face.

"Ah!" His fingers flew to his eye. "What was that-"

But fueled by rage, blinded by hate for the snake, she kept punching, kicking, not even noticing when Kano rolled out of reach and she beat her fists against the empty wall until her anger deserted her and she suddenly collapsed, crying. "There's nothing we can do, is there..."

Kano came to her and turned her face up towards his until she looked at him. "It's never hopeless." And he quirked his mouth in that peculiar half smile that belonged exclusively to him, and it wasn't a lie.

"My god!" Kido looked at him, and saw the hopelessness in the smile, even as he protested otherwise, but she drew her attention to the one of the bruises already blooming on his cheek, and fresh tears started. "I'm sorry." She touched her fingers lightly to the purpling area. "Does that hurt?"

Kano blushed; it'd been a while since he was touched like that, kind and gentle, and the well-trained mask inside dictated that he pull away. But it was no time for that; the end of his life could be any minute now, and he had to do what he needed to do - had to -

He put his hand over hers, and she looked at him, surprised, her face stained with red from the curtains. It was still the middle of the day, and ten minutes ago, everything was all right. But now it was only Kano and Kido, and everyone else was drowning in the red lake

(Konoha in agony on the floor of the kitchen Shintaro's last gurgles impaled on scissors Ene maintaining a loud electric squall as the snake's hand went into the device and strangled her Hibiya's small body exploding on impact with the truck Momo's brain sprayed all up the wall Seto with one eye and a bloody socket)

that the goddamn snake had caused, and if there was a God it had the worst sense of humor, or they were all bound for hell and the gracious deity had decided that their crimes were so bad they'd have to pay in life. Might as well commit to it in his last few seconds of life.

"It's all right as long as you keep your hand there," he blurted, and then turned a darker shade of red.

"Well I can't take it away, because you've got your hand on it." But there was no venom in the voice, and Kido was smiling, an exquisitely beautiful smile that Kano suddenly realized he could look at forever. He had the feeling that if Kuroha burst in, just then, and he could keep her smiling just for him, he would die happy.

Except all this was showing on his face, and the mask automatically reappeared. A smirking face slid over his own, hiding the bruises and the turbulence and the red eyes.

"Don't do that." Kido pulled her hand from his now cloaked face. "Don't lie to me."

"I can't not do it." A helpless truth, but Kido wouldn't believe him. "You've undone it before. Now undo it again."

"Ki-"

"Kano. Listen to me. I said, don't lie to me. That's an order."

"Kido, I can't, I swear, I really can't, it's part of me-" He was dangerously close to tears, but his face showed nothing. It was an incongruity that perplexed the senses.

"And so is disappearing, but I don't disappear every time something happens, am I right?"

"Actually-"

"Shut up, idiot." Kido laid both hands on the sides of his face and leaned her forehead against his, staring into his eyes with ferocity. Her breath was warm on his face, but he smelled blood. It wouldn't have made his normal self flinch, but now, trapped on a knife's edge of sanity in a world of the opposite, he cringed away from her. I'm vulnerable, he thought, with no small amount of wonder, and then locked the thought away forever.

Kido had an old song bouncing around in her head. No idea where it was from. It wasn't their lullaby, no, but a different song, different lyrics. She muttered them under her breath, desperately willing a human out from the puppet that Kano retreated into every time he felt troubled.

"Early one morning, just as the sun was rising..."

Kano opened his eyes in curiosity, avoiding the determined stare of Kido's black eyes boring into his skull and instead staring at the tiny slip of white light peeking around the curtains.

"I heard a young maiden sing in the valley below..."

The more he stared at it, the better it seemed, like a sliver of heaven sent down by a merciful God. Or perhaps, just a ray of sunlight.

"Oh don't deceive me, oh never leave me..."

His eyes snapped back to Kido's at that. She disguised the beginnings of hope, in case Kano would remain sequestered inside himself.

"How could you use a poor maiden so?"

And just like that, she had a real person, no more masks, right in front of her, golden eyes apprehensive, face puffed a little with bruises, and a pink flush on his cheekbones. But really Kano. No more secrets.

"Ha, it worked!" she said in astonishment.

"What worked?" Kano was breathing hard, nervous, and Kido found it endearing.

"You're back."

He forced out a shaky laugh. "Where would I have gone?"

And right then Kido wanted to kiss him, but now was neither the time or the place-

And Kano inclined his head just a little more, the gold tassels of his hair brushing her forehead-

And suddenly, eyes met, heartbeats quickened. Kido reached for him without knowing why.

And then they were kissing. Lips on lips, hands buried in hair that was softer than she'd ever imagined it to be, no space between them, not enough to push a piece of paper between them. Hearts beating in time. Slow, steady, forever.

Once they were apart, they stared at each other, cheeks flaming red. They were both smiling, huge, radiant smiles, and Kuroha downstairs was forgotten. Their bodies were clamoring, move back, do it again, and they were close to it when the door exploded off its hinges.

"Like rats," said the snake, looking down on them. "Always going at it. Even at the ends of their lives, they do it again."

They both looked up at the end of their lives, but not for long. There was an abyss behind those gleaming yellow eyes, and the abyss manifested itself in the barrel of the gun he held. The hole looked like a tunnel, no, a chasm, ready to swallow their lives.

There was a sound like thunder, and Kido jolted. Kano felt a damp spray on his face. "K-Kido?" He swallowed and propped himself up on one elbow to look at her. She lay on the floor, hair around her head like a green halo, an expression of peace on her face. Her hoodie was already saturated, and he couldn't tell where she'd been shot. "Kido!" He shook her shoulders, heedless of the monster watching with a great deal of amusement. "Don't leave me now! Kido!"

"All right," laughed Kuroha from the doorway. "Enough's enough, now say your goodbyes..."

"Goodbye," choked out Kano, looking only at Kido, who seemed to be smiling. A special smile, just for him. Then he mustered the last of his courage and glared Kuroha straight in the eye. "See you in hell."

This gave the snake a good laugh. "Didn't you know, dear Kano? You're already there."

Kano ignored him and looked at Kido. "Well, masks off for the king, then."

Kuroha couldn't seem to stop laughing at that one. But all good things had to come to an end, and the monster wiped a tear from his eye. "You're a funny one. A pity you couldn't've done as you were told."

The next few things happened with painful suddenness.

A deafening silence.

A crescendo of static.

Blinding white pain.

The low thunder afterwards, and the sky turned black.

Kano came back to himself, lying on his side, writhing in his own blood, with a heavy pressure on his head. I-I'm not dead, yet?

He tried to move and whited out.

And again, later, a quiet voice chanting his name. "Shuuya. Shuuya Kano, come back to me. Kano."

A hand in his.

His eyes slivered open to a blurry image of green and purple and red and light, so much light. "Kido..."

"What is it?"

"If I'm seeing you, I'm dead, right?"

"Not-" there was a bubbling cough "-Not quite."

The room came into focus. The curtains were open, but the sky was flickering, blue and black and back again. It looked like all the stars were shooting, making a light show just for him. He worked to focus his eyes on the green blur in front of him, and the cool weight in his hand. It was her hand. Yes, that was it, wasn't it? She too lived, and his heart felt a remarkable elation.

"S-"

"D-don't push y-yourself-f," gasped Kido, her voice nothing more than an exhale. "J-just stay. Unt-until it's o-over."

"S-s-s-"

"K-kano-"

"Smile f-for me, d-dove..."

Kido's heart cinched in until it hurt. She hacked, ignoring the haze closing in on her, and thought about Kano's words. It took a few seconds to process them. Dove? Smile? Why? Dove?

"W-wh-"

"P-pl-please. Just-" (gasp, hack, rinse, repeat) "-j-just-t for m-m-me." The lightest pressure on her fingers.

"If-f you p-p-prom-mise to st-stay."

"I s-sw-swear, d-dove."

Kido smiled as wide as she could, a wavering, unstable smile, but beautiful nonetheless, because it was a smile for him, and he alone could bask in it.

"Th-thank y-y-y-"

"It's always all right," Kido managed, without stuttering. And she had to say the other thing, the important thing, but what was it again? She was cold, and she was tired, and such things didn't seem as important anymore.

"I-I-I-"

Kano choked and tried again. "I-I l-lo-"

Kido tried to focus on listening, but her ears weren't working. The jagged chips of words were coming from a million miles away. But in the back of her brain, she knew what he was trying to say.

Her fingers twitched in his light grasp, trying to convey it back to him. I have to...have to...have to what...? Then, epiphany.

"Y-you." she managed. "Too." And on her next inhale, "F-f-orev-evr..."

The caress of his fingers against hers.

The quiet, familiar melody of their lullaby, struggling clear of shutting-down throats and making it to their exhausted ears. Last breaths expended in this effort to make the other hear and remember.

Half of a smile, quickly fading out.

There was no warm glow this time. They were dead by the time night fell.

But for them, outside the window, the stars would eternally whirl overhead.