High in the sky above Shinto Teito, there was only terror.

Salarymen, pages and even muscled security guards scurried in panic as a lone figure marched through the upper floor of MBI's offices. The click-clack of high heeled shoes was the only warning some received before a virtual hurricane swept by them, screaming orders and asserting dominance as if she was a Tyrant from the Stone Age.

Sahashi Takami was not experiencing the best day of her life. She had been wrenched away from her work by the insistent ringing of her cell phone, its loathsome tone indicating something had gone horribly wrong somewhere, again. The fact that the Idiot would force her to fix it only added to her ire. She reached into her pocket and extracted a cigarette, relishing the rush of nicotine more then she should have.

"Ah, excellent." Said white coated idiot as she entered the boardroom. "Now that Takami is here we may being. Please, take a seat dear."

Resisting the urge to throttle her employer, she instead walked with dignity to the designated seat as head of the science team assigned to the Sekirei. The first seat to the left, it provided ample opportunity to hit Minaka with a clipboard (who had sat himself at the front of the table, the pompous ass) if he digressed from business, which was often.

Across from her was long time MBI retainer, Raiga Fujimura. The brown haired lawyer was the head of MBI's legal firm and had joined on the company a mere two years after it's founding. Adorn in a rather plain black business suit, his sharp features gave him the air of militarism, an impression reinforced by his strict adherence to business edict. As law didn't concern her, Takami hadn't interacted with the man much outside these board meetings.

She couldn't trust him.

Seated immediately to her left was Natsuo Ichinomi, the proud head of the pharmaceutical department. A loyal employee, he had returned from a six month sabbatical just this week. Apparently, his lover had died in a certain incident back in America and the younger man had nearly snapped in grief. But he was back now, his charismatic smile and well-groomed face giving him the illusion that he was no worse for wear.

Takami didn't know if she could trust him.

Chatting amicably with Ichinomi was Takami's former college roommate, the ever distractible Tsukihime Souka. The poor girl had managed to lose all her pens, if the tone of her voice was any indication, and would likely misplace her notes as well in a few short minutes. More than once these meetings had ground to a halt as the table was forced to wait as she located her records, but Takami's old friend had a good handle on numbers, making her invaluable.

She could be trusted.

The last of the present board members was the head of the human resource department, Mikasa Busujima. The rather normal woman didn't boast the unparalleled intellect that the other present members were blessed with, but she performed her job with a dogged determination that more than earned the head scientists respect. She was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a rather engaging conversationalist and seemed full of excited tales of distant lands.

Takami wished she could be trusted.

Staring forlornly at the two empty seats that sat at the end of the table, one for the head of the Disciplinary Squad and one for the Head of Security, Takami took a slow breath before settling herself fully into her seat.

"Welcome, Welcome Everyone!" Minaka shouted from besides her. "Let's get started with going over the weekend accounts? Busujima, if you would be so bold?"

Seeing the CHRO nod in the affirmation, the white haired women allowed her mind to drift as the meeting got fully underway. Normally, she was very attentive to the internal affairs of the company she had literally bled for, but there were more pressing matters on her mind. Like the brewing crisis that could possibly result in the entire destruction of the Sekirei plan.

And it all came down to trust. In the course of six months, the very foundations of MBI had been shaken to the core, leaving even lower level employees aware that some colossal changes had occurred within the company. In a way, the current status of the chief officers served as a metaphor of the company itself, capable of showing how grim the situation truly was.

Of the eight officers, two were entirely absent. The Head of Security had left to attend a meeting oversees eight months ago and had simply vanished, leaving the majority of the board to assume the man was dead. The Head of the Disciplinary Squad, who was rather close to the man, had immediately made moves to allocate him, but all approaches proved fruitless. Now she made it to a meager one in four meetings, but even when the alien was present physically, it was clear her mind was very distant.

Three of the remaining six executives were known to be absolutely loyal to the company. Takami, Minaka and Tsukihime had been involved, in some form or another, with this venture since the beginning. Their aim of helping the Sekirei had been the clear and only goal of every operation they had undertaken for the last twenty years and more. They had sacrificed family, hobbies and creature comforts to make it this far and were willing to burn to see it through.

On the other end of the spectrum, represented by Raiga and Mikasa, were the suspected HYDRA dogs. They were 'technically' part of the company, but they really worked for other, independent businesses that had been contracted in under MBI's employ. These companies, which had so thoroughly integrated themselves into MBI's infrastructure that they could no more remove them than remove themselves, had been acquisitioned using a series of business cards provided by one 'Neat Man'.

As such, they served only the Serpent Society or HYDRA or SHIELD or whatever they were going by these days, which seemed to be 'fractured and running scared'. Although the main bulk of their forces had been utterly demolished at the Battle of Washington by Captain America, there were holdouts. Some of those holdouts used there advance technology to become local warlords, which usually led to becoming Avenger bait.

The clever ones, however, became leeches. Attaching themselves to healthy host companies and pledging vengeance at a later date, they sucked the manpower of the company dry and brainwashed the youth to their new world order.

Youth that were represented by the young Ichinomi. They had been recruited from all blocks of life but the new blood shared one important trait. Raw talent. Takami was proud to say the company practically vibrated with it, an advantage of having the 'pick of the litter', so to speak, of college graduates throughout the entirety of Asia.

However, these youth had been corrupted. Every second they had spent loyally serving MBI, they had been exposed to HYDRA influence. In most cases it had been subtle, unnoticeable. But the researcher knew that sometimes these influences became overt, pushing employees into the hands of evil. With the reveal that of the Serpent Society in Washington, these youngsters were confronted with a choice.

Stay loyal to MBI or fall to the subtle corruption that had long plagued them.

So that was where they stood in this whole debacle. A fourth of the company was severally hemorrhaged by HYDRA's revel, another fourth firmly in the terrorist group's pocket. Of the remaining half, the old guard stood strong but risked falling due to the inconsistency of the youth that was rising to replace them.

Like the legend of Icarus, MBI had rose to the sky above, only to find their wings were made of wax. It remained to be seen if they fell or not. Takami, not an optimist by any means, firmly felt the former. Once all the Sekirei plan was realized, there would be nothing to hold the company together. They would fall as quickly as they had risen.

"Then let's move on to the most important point of all! Takami, dearest," the scientist twitched her hand to the reinforced steel clipboard sitting before her. "Tell us, have any little birds gotten their wings?"

Rolling her eyes, the white haired scientist merely shook her head slowly. "It's been over two weeks since we released Group Five, only a handful remain unwinged. Most have gone to ground now, but we're monitoring them closely." She paused, actually reading the clipboard this time. "Other than that, no activity."

"Disappointing," Minaka tsked. "But I do believe that conc-"

"Are you sure?" A calm voice rang, interrupting the CEO.

Silence fell on the meeting room, all eyes turning to look at Raiga Fujimura questioningly. It was rather rare for the composed man to speak on matters not directly related to his field, and even rarer for him to speak out of turn. No doubt his military past coming to the forefront.

Meeting his gaze, Takami merely raised an eyebrow. "Sure of what?"

"That there were no wingings yesterday?" The man said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, his eyes appearing dull to his fellow peers.

Needless to say, Takami didn't see it that way. "I can assure you, Raiga, that there were no wingings yesterday." Pausing, she continued. "I have one job, and that is to keep track of all Sekirei in Shinto Teito. I would know." The last sentence came out much more forcefully than she anticipated, but the lead researcher was not a fan of having her facts questioned. She had people for that, not HYDRA lackeys.

"I meant no offense to you, Miss Sahashi." The man said, somehow making the sentence sound condescending. "I'm sure you have all the aliens in town on a tight leash. There's only a hundred or so, it would be hard for anyone to misplace them." Sweeping his hand down the table, the man nodded to the empty chairs at its end. "But not all the aliens are in the city or, at least, you don't think they are."

"The head of the Disciplinary Squad," Takami responded with a tone that could freeze any normal human. "Is conducting company business with her second in command in America, we are in constant contact with them and their trackers are operating on the latest hardware. I doubt we need worry about those two being winged, for obvious reasons."

Nodding his head empathetically, the lawyer talked on. "But what if there was a Sekirei that didn't have a tracker? What if they had escaped your watchful eyes and been on the run until recently? Certainly, that particular case has no precedence?"

"Oh?" Minaka broke the growing tension in the room with a chuckle. "You speak as if you have something to share with the class, my bookish friend."

"Funny you should say such," Tsukihime began shivering as a predatory smile cross the man's face. "As I happened to have a recording here that is worth some thought."

Producing a video player from his briefcase, the occupants of the room gathering shoulder-to-shoulder to witness the suitably grainy footage. The brief clip, taken from what appeared to be a security camera, showed a homeless man sitting on a bench. His features obscured by a baseball cap and secondhand work attire, he was joined shortly thereafter by a skimpily dress woman, who proceeded to have a (inaudible) conversation with the man.

The head researcher's eyes were immediately drawn to the women, dismissing the bum outright. At the risk of sounding stereotypical, the women certainly looked like at Sekirei, judging solely on physique and dress style. It had long been a theory amongst those involved in 'alien relations' that certain base genetic traits in the species had been either evolved or been deliberately modified to make the species much more shameless, likely to help secure the reciprocal attraction of their Ashikabi once winging had actually happened. This most often manifested in a taste for revealing clothing, amorous speech and, of course, the near zealot like devotion to their charge.

"I don't recall any swordsmen's in group five."

"That's because there weren't any." Eyes narrowed, the group allowed the rest of the scene to play out in silence. Only when the women literally tackled the man did the heavy silence cease, followed by gasps as the enviable Sekirei wings flew from the ground.

"We lose the video here," Raiga said with a shrug, freezing the footage mid-kiss. "A localized Earthquake knocked out most electronics in the area, leaving us no clues as to the aftermath." The man's eyes turned to Takami, judging silently as the group settled back into their seats.

"Can we confirm it's a Sekirei?" Mikasa said slowly, thoughtfully. "There are a number of groups that I encountered in my travels that could…"

The lawyer interrupted her, his voice heated. "Don't be absurd. That," He gestured to the screen, his past as an orator coming to the forefront. "Is one of ours, without a doubt! And I want to know how one of our assets is not in the system!"

"Don't refer to them so callously, Raiga." Tsukihime charmed with an awkward smile, no doubt summoning no small amount of courage to respond. "Some of them are quiet pleasant when you get to know them."

A nasty sneer crossed the accused face, a retort sharp on his tongue before he was cut off by his employer. More specifically, his employer's tumult laughter that drew all eyes on the room squarely unto him.

"Well," the CEO said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Well, well, well. It looks like our prodigal son has returned triumphant! Or should I say daughter!" Jumping out of his seat, the man was halfway to the door in seconds. "There's so much to do! I must introduce myself to this new Ashikabi. He shall be one to watch, I can feel it!" And just like that, he was gone.

"Professor! Excuse me, Professor!" Mikasa shouted to the now empty doorway. "And he's gone."

"Get him back then!" Raiga said, already reaching for the phone, no doubt to get security to return the wayward CEO. "I still have questions!"

"The idiots probably not in the building anymore," Takami couldn't help but mummer, running a tired hand over her face. "Damn hidden elevators." Steeling herself, Takami snatched the phone away from the lawyer. Ignoring his protests, she dialed an extension and placed the phone to her ear. "Yes, I need an update on the Disciplinary Squad." A pause as she absorbed the response. "Understood."

Returning the phone to its crib, she frowned heavily, trying to formulate a plan.

"Ahhh, Sahashi-sensei?" The young head of the pharmaceutical department ventured, looking unsure. "Why would we need the Disciplinary squad?"

"It's simple really," she replied in monotone. "Leaving a single-number unmonitored has the potential to disrupt the entire Sekirei plan. We will need to bring both the Sekirei and the Ashikabi in and ensure there cooperation with the plan."

"Single-number?" Tsukihime said, before realization dawned on her. "I thought number five was terminated?"

"Officially? Yes. Number five suffered catastrophic damage during some late adjustments several months after the first invasion of Kamikura Island." Pausing, she took a long pull of nicotine before continuing. "Unofficially, number five has been on the run from MBI since his escape from our custody several years ago." Turing mechanically, she nodded at the head of the legal department. "Congratulations, Raiga. You accomplished more in fifteen minutes then this company has in over ten years."

"Wait one second," The aforementioned man said, his eyes alight with what was unmistakably rage. "There's been a rouge Sekirei wandering around the world for years? And we weren't notified!"

"You mean HYDRA wasn't notified?" Takami said, standing from her seat. "No, it was company business, not yours." Turing, the head scientist began walking to the exit, pausing only to snap her finger at Natsuo. "Walk with me."

The head of the pharmaceutical department paused only a moment before scrambling to follow his superior. Shuffling his papers into a shoulder bag, he sprinted to catch up to the white hair women who walked at a not inconsiderate speed.

"I don't have time to ask this delicately," She said, not even turning to look him in the eye as the marched down endless offices. "So I'll be direct. Are you well?"

"I am."

She snorted, pretending to ignore the way his voice went monotone at his answer. "You went through the mandatory three week self-defense program under Frost, correct?"

"And the optional weapons course." Seeing the researchers raised eyebrows, Natsuo elaborated. "Toriumi had a thing for him, some sort of hero-worship that I never got to the bottom of." Pausing, he smiled sadly. "He also thought it would be good bonding."

"Okay," Takami replied, seeming to mull over the information as the pair entered an elevator. Instead of pushing one of the many buttons, she extracted a keychain and twisted one of its many keys into its appropriate keyhole. "I need you to oversee the Disciplinary Squad for this mission."

The young widow visibly startled, turning to gape at the impeccable scientist with an expression not unlike a fish. Realizing his blunder, he visibly regained control of his emotions, allowing a monotone mask to come over his face in second before nodding stiffly.

An exhausted sigh found its way from her lips. "You have something to say, say it. Tomorrows too late."

"I…" The man paused, before steeling himself. "The Disciplinary Squad was never intended to operate under someone other than the Commander. Frost trained them personally to act under his command, or baring that follow his well-crafted support structure." He seemed to lose steam, shrugging slightly. "They will not follow me. Nor do they need me."

"First, Frost is…indisposed." Neither chose to comment on the obvious fact that 'dead' would be the far more appropriate term, as a man doesn't disappear from a dream job like MBI's one his own volition. "Secondly, the lead Sekirei are on 'special mission', in America. We don't have the luxury to wait for their return. Thirdly, they can't be deployed alone, especially in this First Phase. We need a sense of tact, something aliens have historically lacked."

The young pharmaceutical head couldn't disagree with any of the points his employer had made. However, he had no desire to get involved in the more 'extraterrestrial' part of MBI's business, for several reasons. Not the least of which was the fact that pervious human interaction with alien lifeforms resulted in the near total destruction of New York.

The Chitauri had turned out to be just one more reason for the Japanese company to hide the existence of aliens from the general public. As close to 95% of the human population's only interaction with aliens was watching in mute terror as a series of reptilian invades deconstructed The City that Never Sleeps, it would probably be pandemonium if the general public discovered that 108 of them had been living right under their nose.

The governments of the world, or there overseers at least, thankfully had the guile to act similarly. Plus, at the time the MBI-HYDRA alliance still appeared to be strong, the former German military offshoot running interference within SHIELD to minimize both public and governmental information on the Sekirei.

Natsuo didn't qualify it as racism, per say, more like well justified paranoia of a physically superior race. It would be idiotic, in his opinion, not to fear them and keep a wise amount of digression between them.

There was another reason, one much more primal. He knew that existing in the same space as Sekirei practically invited risk, risk of the emotional sort. From what little he of the species, is was possible one would wish to 'contract' with him, to connect emotionally.

For some that would be a blessing, but Natsuo could see no worse fate. Even if he lied to himself, he was still grieving for the loss of his true partner, the one he had promised to spend his life with. To allow one of the heartsick aliens into his soul would be nothing less than a betrayal, pure and simple. And he was loyal, loyal to his family and his company.

He voice neither of these things, of course. His reservations would sound shallow and juvenile if physically voiced. Best keep them in the mind, where they could thrive and grow unhindered by the sharp criticisms of reality.

"I see." He said, unable to find a suitable counter. "If that's what the company asks of me, it would be my honor."

"Your confidence inspires me." Came the deadpan reply as the elevator finally arrived at its intended destination. "As we still don't have a solid location on number five, you'll have some time to meet the team. Follow me."

Stepping out of the elevator, the widower couldn't help but notice the difference a couple floors made in the level of luxury present within the sprawling clock tower. Instead of the drab and frankly generic offices that permeated the lower floors, this level was richly decorated in a distinctly European fashion. Plush sofas and chairs sat in a rough semi-circle, owing to the large tinted windows that allowed one nearly full view of the cityscape.

The sun was rising, he couldn't help but note. The rays of light causing long shadows to stretch across the skyline, creating a beautiful contrast between the morning glow and the last vestiges of night.

He dismissed the view as worthless.

The various weapon racks lining the wall, however, were not. Weapon racks line the walls, holding a hodgepodge of both archaic and modern weaponry. They appeared to be ordered haphazardly, but a second glance reveled there was some ordering to the process, if an indeterminate one. A fine sheen of dust had built on the firearms, dulling the gleam that the swords and spears wore proudly.

More importantly, however, was that sitting in the center of the room were two women. Natsuo didn't even have to guess that they were aliens as he approached, it was fairly easy to tell, seeing as they had the Sekirei crest smattered all over there clothing and had a certain unearthly beauty to them.

"Ugh, why do you always get up so early Haihane?" The one on the left said as she glared at her companion, her posture relaxed as rested against one leather loveseats. "You don't even do anything besides sit and look out the window."

The speaker was young looking, having the appearance of a late teens or early twenty year old human. Long pink hair was pulled tightly over her shoulder, held by two plastic clips that resembled flowers. Her black kimono appeared to have been specially modified to show of her (rather long) legs, leaving it to some black biker shorts to protect her modesty.

The most distinctive feature about her was the large bow, pink like here hair, which she had wrapped around her waist like an impromptu belt. It contrasted nicely with the white, bird-like crest on the lapels of her jacket, the unofficial symbol of Sekirei as a whole.

"I'm waiting." The other women replied in monotone, her raspy tone making it hard to decipher the meaning of her reply. Unlike her companion, she sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees in a position that could only be described as 'fragile'.

As her back was too the humans, Natsuo couldn't get a good look at her face, but the fact that she had wrapped her body in bandages caught his eye immediately. Other than the wrappings, a nearly shredded blue kimono hung from her shoulders, seemingly identical to her partners excluding the obvious wear. A studded metal collar rounded off her wear, even though it was hidden from sight by her gray hair.

Coming to a halt behind the two, Takami cleared her throat loudly. Had circumstances been otherwise, Natsuo would have laughed as they jumped into the air, limbs flaying in surprise. They recovered quickly however, turning to face the human's mid-air in an expert display of aerobatics.

They both relaxed when they saw it was the head researcher, both falling into what could only in the loosest possible sense a 'parade stance' before giving equally sloppy salutes. Natsuo raised an eyebrow curiously, nonplussed at the action. The fact they saluted at all, to an 'inferior species' no less, indicated that these two where of a different breed.

"Ahh, hello Important Person Sahashi." The blue one, who Natsuo noticed had grown her hair over her left eye, said with a forced casualness. "Can we, uhh, help you?"

"Like you're capable of helping anything." The pink one muttered under her breath.

"At least I'm not a washboard."

The shriek that erupted from the pink one left the only male in the room clutching his ears in pain. He quickly reevaluated the usefulness of these two from 'cautiously optimistic' to 'potential health hazard'. As the ringing subsided, he could help but favor his sensei an incredulous look.

She seemed to be regretting the decision herself. "This was so much easier when I didn't have to deal with the squad directly." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, glared at the two aliens. "Listen up!"

The squabbling that had erupted quickly ceased as the two looked at her with wide eyes. "Get the rest of the squad, you have a mission."

For one long moment, the two stood silently, a blank expression on both their faces. Then slowly, stiffly, the pink one made a slow nod before turning and walking mechanically to a side doorway. She disappeared without a word.

The blue one, Haihane he recalled, merely stood with a dull expression fixed on her face, looking at the head researcher intently. She met her gaze just as blandly, their eyes seeming to have a conversation that the young pharmaceutical head was not privy to. Apparently, Takami won the debate, as Haihane turned swiftly and looked out over the window again, this time with a glare marring her features.

Attempting to ease the sudden tension that had settled on the room, Natsuo took the opportunity to ask for some clarification on his mission. "Sahashi-sensei, how many Sekirei will I be working with?"

"The squad usually consists of eight, nine if you add a human operator, so you'll be working with the remaining six."

"Eight? Is that not a bit…," he frowned, searching for the right word. "Excessive?" That represented close to a tenth of all existing Sekirei, after all. That many powerful beings working under one directive easily created a power that could rival a medium sized country's military. It was doubtful that a single Ashikabi could gather enough of the remaining hundred fighters to form an effective fighting force against such odds, even if they used such methods as 'forced winging's'.

Approaching it from another angle, a group of single Ashikabi would do no better. Even if, say, 20 Ashikabi confederated in an attempted to fight the squad, they would still be crushed. The group would lack the necessary coordination, for one. Also, since members of the Disciplinary Squad had adjustments far above the average double and triple digits, a disciplinary member could take the nearly three to one odds and still emerge victorious.

"I know that look," His musing were rather abruptly ended by his superior. "You're curious as to why we need eight when three would do?" Wordlessly, he nodded. She chuckled in response, looking off into some distant memory. "I used to think that too. Then I was shown that we are part of a larger world."

His distaste at her vagueness must have shown on his face as she elaborated a moment later. "It's an easy day when a Disciplinary member has to fight a Sekirei. Often times," she frowned, shrugging slightly. "They deal with threats much more…varied."

Like HYDRA, he supposed.

"At one point, we only had two members," she continued. "But after the clusterfu-, I mean the unfortunate business with numbers 88 and 87, we decided a larger squad was needed."

There was a story there, Natsuo deducted, but he decided not to pry. The less he was involved in this alien business, the better. Once this mission was done, he wanted to walk away from this farce and return to hoping the world would die in a fireball. Well, it didn't have to be a fireball, as long as the world was destroyed.

Speaking about returning unscathed. "I won't be expected to wing them, will I?"

Surprisingly, it was the glaring Haihane that answered. "No. We might fight with you, not for you."

"What Haihane means to say," Takami said as she glared reproachfully at the irate alien. "Is that the Disciplinary Squad are all incapable of being winged."

A brow raised on the male's face, his mind quickly coming to the most logical conclusion. "They are all scrapped numbers?"

Haihane literally started growling, her natural rasping tone making the sound actually cause Natsuo to lose composer for a moment. The noise dead off after a moment, but he could tell he had made some sort of serious faux pas. Or perhaps it was something else? His mere presence acting as a lightning rod for negative emotions that had been mixing in the Sekirei before him. He couldn't think of any other action to justify such a chilly reception.

"If there were eight scrapped numbers that occurred on my watch," the head researcher responded firmly. "I wouldn't have this job. No, they have inhibiters."

"Inhibiters?"

"Every member of the Disciplinary Squad has them," She nodded sharply to the large collar looped around Haihane's neck. "They interfere with the psychic abilities of the Sekirei, preventing them from actively searching for their Ashikabi's presence. We had some designed for human use too, but they disappeared several months back."

"That's…surprising." Based on what little he knew of Sekirei, he would assume that being cut-off from find there destined one would be higher than the worst agony. Based on revelations released in the boardroom earlier today, he assumed that Sekirei would rather go rouge then ignore the biological imperative to find a 'destined one'.

"We owe a debt to MBI," The only alien in the room responded, her single visible eye looking at him intently. "They trained us and clothed us when that could have used us instead. If I need to postpone finding my Ashikabi to pay back that debt, it's worth it."

"And it has absolutely nothing to do with the absolutely bitchin' reward!" A boisterous voice, followed by the slamming of the door, drew the trio's attention away from each other and towards the doorway to the sleeping quarters.

Three new alien's filed through the doorway, followed closely by the pink one from earlier.

The speaker, smiling broadly as she strolled confidently into the room, waved cheekily in his direction. She was rather tall, he noted, towering over her peers who were relatively diminutive. Her long legs were on full display owing to her wearing bloomers, the pale expanse of skin only broken by a bold tattoo which read '19'. Despite her cheerful demeanor her short black hair stuck up in various directions and Chinese shirt (which featured the Disciplinary Squads logo proudly) hung half buttoned, indicated she had just woken up.

"Number 19, Ikki reporting!" she finished, leaping onto the couch with no small degree of grace.

"The reward is all that matters." The second one replied, snorting haughty. "Those who can't protect themselves don't deserve to be protected." Turing, her brown eyes captured the young pharmaceutical head in her sights. "Don't think I'm in this for a cause, creep. I'll do my time and then," She slide her gloved hand across her neck. "I'm out."

In contrast to the uniformed look of the other three, this one clearly had on casual clothing. As in most things, 'casual clothing' for a Sekirei had translated differently than the human norm. White opera gloves and black stockings that reached mid-thigh seemed to be in, apparently. The black Chinese dress with a yellow strip which matched her hair gave Natsuo the fleeting desire to compare her to a honeybee for a moment, but he repressed it.

"Oh, don't be such a meanie Mitsuha-chan!" Ikki, apparently unable to sit still for the moment, said as she leaped out of her seat. Bounding over to the now identified Mitsuha, she looped an arm around her and the final Squad member's neck. "You know you would miss me and Nanaha-chin if you left."

"Unhand me this instant!"

The final member endured the jostling silently, a scared little frown covering the contours of her soft face. She was obviously a quiet soul, judging from appearance alone. She was the most put-together of the five extraterrestrials, wearing a rather normal red skirt with a cream colored top which showed her shoulders. Black stockings like her peers rounded into brown combat boots, which contrasted oddly with the number of high-heels the others wore. She also had cut-off orange sleeves which covered the entirety of her hand, creating an interesting contrast.

"Knock it off Ikki," the remaining pink one said from the sidelines, shouting into what was quickly becoming an impromptu wrestling match. "Sahashi-san wants to talk to us."

"You're not the boss of me!"

"Ladies…" Takami started, flicking the ash off her ever-present cigarette.

"I am the boss of you! When Karasuba is gone…"

"I'll never take orders from my junior!"

"If you don't let go of me this instant I will destroy you!"

"Ladies…" The head researcher raised her voice, only to get shouted down once more.

"Junior? What is that supposed to mean?!"

"Oh, Christmas bow wants to fight. Go get you little gloves and you might be a challenge!"

"Are you ignoring me? I can't believe your ignoring me."

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Takami shouted over the growing chaos. "Disciplinary Squad, Weapons check!"

The result was instantons. The sounds of shouting and scuffling were replaced with quick steps as the squad members aligned themselves in front of the two humans, hands behind there back in parade rest. Backs straight and tall, the women look straight ahead, appearing like they were professional solders about to be inspected by a superior officer. And perhaps they were, Natsuo allowed.

"I hate that." The single mother mumbled to herself before raising her voice. "Listen up! We have a dissident single number on the loose. Your job is to bring her and her Ashikabi back her, alive and unharmed, got it?"

A chorus of affirmations met her question, getting a brief nod from the scientist before continuing. "This is Natsuo Ichinomi, head of our pharmaceutical department." At this, her eyes turned fierce. "You will follow his lead on this mission."

Stepping forward, Natsuo bowed slightly. "Ah, please take care of me."

"I'll have more details for you all shortly." Turing, he was already halfway to the elevator before Natsuo even straightened his back. "Be ready to move."

And then she was gone, leaving Natsuo alone in a soundproof room with five alien warriors who were looking at him with a mix of curiosity, intrigue and outright hostility.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. Sometimes, he wished the world would just burn.

XxX

There was something different about his morning. Something she couldn't quite wrap her sleep addled mind around as she woke at an abnormally late hour. She had awoken fully clothed, devoid of any of the soft pajamas she had decided to treat herself to. For some reason that mattered little to her, as did the absence of the sword that had always stood vigil by her futon as she slept. There was something in her soul, some feeling of fullness that just seemed to promise illumination in her dark life…what was it?

Even a cold shower calmed her nerves and awakened her, the feeling refused to go away. It even seemed to affect her physically, her step just a touch lighter and her head held higher than normal. What was it? What had happened?

Stumbling out of the bedroom of her small apartment, she walked down the narrow corridor to her kitchen. She was actually rather proud of her acquisition of this property, as it was all acquired above board using clean, traceable funds that were connected to one of her strongest cover identities. As such, she had actually put a modicum of effort into making this safe house more a home, adding some modern appliances and even paintings.

She even knew the neighbors names, quite a feat if she would say so herself.

"Good morning."

Startled by the abrupt voice, Mutsu jolted backwards, arm reaching for a sword that wasn't there. The apartment faded into blackness the background, her eyes swiveling, focusing on the speaker with absolute intensity.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He was sitting at the kitchen table. The man she had spent close to twenty years of her life searching for. The man she had been told over and over didn't exist, the whispers of his name merely a legend to scare spies around the globe. Because how could one man kill so many, over such a long period of time? And how could that same man be her 'distended one', the master to her servant?

He looked the exact same as the day he met her. Well, he seemed weaker, perhaps. No, weaker was the incorrect word. His face was less sharp, his eyes wandering. More disheveled, which was quite a feat considering the last time she saw him he had just been buried by her small earthquake. But his face still wore that sad, lost expression that he had yesterday.

Memories from that day came crushing down, throwing whatever vestiges of sleep that remained after her shower to the wayside. Her knees almost buckled as the rush of emotions hit her full force, the mixture of disbelief, anxiety and pure bliss causing her stoic demeanor to almost crumble.

"How are you here?"

He blinked slowly, putting down a dirty rag and shiny barrel on her kitchen table, which she noticed was full with similarly shiny metal pieces. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he extracted a key. Her key, she realized as he placed it on the tip of the table closest to her.

"I made you my mission."

She swallowed, approaching him slowly, carefully, as if he was a rare animal that might turn and flee from her at any moment. In a way, he was.

She reached down, picking up the key and fiddling it nervously between her fingers, finding herself relishing the warmth the metal held. Taking a breath, she looked up and into his eyes. Such beautiful eyes.

Bowing low, she spoke. "Welcome home, Ashikabi-sama."

XxX

Home?

Noun: The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

He knew of homes, of course, but only in the abstract. The closest he had to a home was the freezer, the metal coffin he was stuffed into in-between missions. For some reason he doubted the average civvie would qualify that as a place of homeliness and he was inclined to agree with them.

The last time he (him, yet not him) had something close to a home was in 1940, according to his personal files. The other him was apparently the oldest of four children, working a variety of small jobs across Brooklyn to provide an apartment for them and that man. Then he was drafted and home became an abstract concept to fight for, not a physical location.

At least, he thought Barnes thought that way. Barnes memories still eluded him, a vague and unrecognizable blob in the distance.

So, without Barnes memories and without HYDRA's orders, he had to forge a new path. And he supposed that his place could be his first step.

"James." He blurted, before wincing.

"James?" she echo, rising from the bow. She frowned, before smiling slightly. "Is that your name?"

"I…really don't know." He answered honestly, looking down at his metal arm, just a hint ruthful. "It should be, I think."

"You don't know your name." She asked, tilting her head to the side before slowly descending into the other empty seat. She leant her elbows on her table, leaning forward to look at his face that was mostly hidden by his hair. "Okay, that doesn't matter. I am Number Five, Mutsu."

"Doesn't matter?" he parroted, half-remembered social conventions dancing through his head. "Wouldn't that matter?"

She shrugged, looking down at the field of metal pieces that spread before her. "Not especially. I am your Sekirei, regardless of the name you choose."

"'And I will serve you faithfully, now and forevermore.' I remember."

"I mean it." Her eyes locked on his with a freighting intensity, her body leaning closer to his in what seemed to be a physical attempt at reinforcing her sincerity. "From this point on all I own is yours. Your tasks are my tasks, and your enemies are my enemies." Reaching her hand forward, the appendage hovered over his indecisively, no doubt an internal battle raging over whether such physical conduct would be accepted. "I have sworn myself to your side."

It spoke of James's state of mind when the first thought he registered in response to her devotion was not one of affection, but a growing since of apprehension. She was absolutely sincere, he recognized, fully willing to give all for him despite them merely meeting yesterday. On a human he would have quickly characterized her as suffering from some mental illness or a childlike dependence, but he already knew she did not identify herself as a member of his race.

And he could confirm that, whatever she was, she was above baseline human. Above him, and even that man as well, if merely in terms of physical strength. That made her dangerous even if she wasn't a master swordswomen he suspected her to be, based on the calluses on her hands and the blade he had place reverently on the kitchen counter.

He had just been handed a loaded weapon and told he had complete discretion in its use, even though he lacked training, will and basic knowledge of its operation. In that case, he only had two options. The first, and the safest, was to discard the weapon with all haste. He was just as likely to hurt himself as the weapon, which would stop the mission.

'Survival imperative for success' A little voice rang throughout the confines of his mind. 'Eliminate threats to continued existence.'

He got that, he comprehended the danger. But, as it stood, she was currently the only lead he had towards his identity. If he were to harm her (assuming he could, owing to an injured state of mind and lack of equipment), all leads he had on his primary mission would be burned to the ground. Not a terribly large loss, he admitted. He was still at the city with the clock tower, he could dispose of her and resume his search via that lead in relatively short order.

But…such would be betrayal. That didn't sit well with him, somehow. Perhaps it was the last glimmers of Bucky Barnes shining through or even HYDRA's programing for absolute obedience, but he would not betray something like…like…

In Lenin's name, when did his life become a dime store novel?

"I accept your offer, Mutsu. I will be your Ashikabi."

A smile spilled onto her face, her hand finally descending into his own. She had gamble the odds on his refusal and her faith had been rewarded. James decided to ignore the urge to pull his hand away, letting her revel in her victory.

"Thank you, James-sama." The mere mention his name seemed to brighten her eyes. "Please, do not hesitate to correct anything to fit your expectations."

Blinking twice, James let his hand drop from hers before raising it to scratch the back of his head at the odd request. "I suppose I'm slightly worried about you getting pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" She said, her eyes showing confusion at his odd request. "Why would you be concerned about that?"

"It is currently," Pausing, he extracted a plain, unadorned smartphone from his pocket, thumbing the switch on and looking carefully at the screen. "910 local time. The sun has not been out long, making it slightly cold to the baseline human."

"I see? And what does that have to do with me?"

"Well," James paused, wishing he had the people skills Bucky was so renounce for. "It is unwise to walk around such a climate while wet and," he made a fleeting motion with his human hand. "Exposed."

"Exposed?" she parroted, searching for the meaning of his words. Meeting her gaze, he gestured to his chest, causing her to look down.

And quickly recognize the fact she was wearing nothing. Nothing at all, not even the towel she was wearing when she had marched out of the shower to make breakfast. Her facial expression freezing, she turned her head slowly before finding the traitorous article lying on the floor, forgotten in the morning's excitement.

Just as gently, she turned her head back to the face of her Ashikabi, seeing him looking at her with bright blue eyes and one eyebrow faintly raised.

"Eep!" With a speed that impressed even the Winter Solder, she sprinted out of the kitchen. Distantly, he heard the slamming of a door, indicating she had likely barricade herself in her room out of embarrassment.

Shrugging, the newly christened 'James' returned to his field strip of his Škorpion, checking over every piece methodically for the slightest defects before returning them to the frame. He could get his answers later, so he would use the time she given him productively. Tapping the screen of his phone carefully, he used muscle memory to find and download a basic app that connected him to police radio frequencies.

Time to get a feel for this city.

XxX

He had managed to clean both his guns and all three of his knives twice before the young women managed to find the courage to return to the kitchen, fully clothed this time. Face bright red, she stood at the edge of the door a good five minutes looking anywhere but at him before entering.

In what he suspected was an attempt to end the awkwardness radiating from her frame, she had offered to make him coffee. He had accepted, partially because he thought it would be rude not to and partially because his 'Sekirei' need something to distract her mind from the mornings episode.

The questions about 'cream' and 'sugar' baffled him slightly, but he assured her that they were not necessary. Even more mysterious was the strange machine she used to make the drink, however. It involved a small cup-like plastic container, placed in a machine that appeared to hold some form of water reservoir. Using a display, she tapped several buttons on the side before pushing the larger one.

The aroma was familiar to him, or his body at least. His month watered at the sight of the mud colored drink, instinctively seeking its warmth. At the first sip, his body almost folded in onto itself, the pleasure making him nearly go cross-eyed.

He suspected she noticed, as a half-smile of her own crossed her face before quickly fleeing.

If he had known what accepting the drink would bring, he might have abstained. The acceptance of the drink served as the catalyst for that most dangerous of enterprises.

Conversation. "So you found the key in my pocket. Then you used the logo on the back to find my apartment complex." He had nodded empathetically, his attention more focused on the rush of energy the drink spread down to his toes. "Dropped me in my bed. And then went and bought a phone."

"Not bought," he replied. "Acquisitioned."

"I don't understand."

He exhaled slowly. Civvies. "Acquisitioning involves the identification of mission critical goods, followed by their prompt and immediate…" He paused, tongue juggling over the words. "Acquisition?"

"Acquisitioning without paying is stealing, Ashikabi-sama." Her voice held the distinct tone adults used to explain something to a particularly slow child.

James ignored it. "Acquisitioned."

"Fine, 'acquisitioned'." Raising her hands, she moved her index and middle finger in a gesture that James felt he should know, but was ultimately unimportant. "You will tell me the store later, I can leave them some money after they close." Looking over his mug, she raised an eyebrow. "And then you returned?"

"No," tapping the phone twice, he pulled up a mapping app that had come pre-installed. "Established a three-block safety perimeter and four possible escape routes." Pausing, he cleared his throat when he noted a slight Russian accent had enter his speech. "You picked a good location."

"Thank you," The women turned, removing another one of the smallish cups from a specially made rack and placing it in the machine. "Sounds tiring, however. Did you sleep well?"

"Sleep wasn't needed."

"'Wasn't needed'?" she parroted as she turned from the machine to face him fully, looking his appearance over critically. "You mean you didn't sleep at all?"

There was an odd tone in her voice that James really should have considered before answering, but the thought never occurred to him. "No."

"Sleep is important, Ashikabi-sama." Was her critical reply, a slight tone of chiding creeping into her voice.

"Yes." He nodded, noting his coffee cup was less than a quarter full. For shame. "An average of four hours per day is enough to operate under. Extra is just…" He tipped his cup at the ceiling. "Extraneous."

It was true, after all. There were frankly too many variables that could change if one engaged in frivolous sleeping. He shuttered at the thought of those poor souls who had perfectly mapped out an enemy base for months, only to retire to a twelve hour nap. What if new troops came in or patrols changed? They would miss them all. Besides, the extra hours could be used to ensure equipment upkeep and tighten security protocols.

He had a feeling with this divine beverage at his side, he could cut those four hours down to three.

"Four hours?" She leaned in close, staring at his face carefully. "You look exhausted, Ashikabi-sama, you should rest more." Turn, she moved her own cup of coffee out of the machine before reaching into one of the many selves that lined the kitchen, extracting a spoon. "If you don't have anything planned for today, you should rest."

He shook his head. "Assuming you allow me to remain here." She nodded her head fervently. "I need gain a better understand of MBI." Pausing, he tapped his forefinger onto the table softly. "And you."

"MBI?" A sneer form on her face, breaking through her stoic demeanor. "Do you have business with them?"

Filing away the fact that she apparently had some relation to MBI, he answered honestly. "I don't know."

Her face didn't change but James could feel that there were questions buzzing just under the surface. It was odd, he saw no change in body language or expression, yet he understood that his companion was unsatisfied by his answer. Like there was another sense that he had never felt before this moment and it somehow connected the two of them.

Was this a side effect of the supposed bond they shared? He had been 'calling' for her, apparently. Did that not imply some sort of connection that went above normalcy?

Normalcy, the analytical part of his mind note coolly, is worthless. He was playing with the wrong set of presumptions in regards to the girl in front of him, a dangerous path. He knew she wasn't human, she referred to herself as 'Sekirei' multiple times. But what was a 'Sekirei'? A mutant perhaps? She had displayed Geokinetic powers yesterday.

Yet she always spoke in the plural. Mutants could be separated in classes, yes, but only in the broadest sense, like power level. She implied there was a group who followed similar laws and even had developed a unique moral system that could label breakers 'insane'. Mutants didn't have that luxury, as each X-gene manifested differently, dividing them and thus preventing them from forming their own unique societies.

He needs more information.

Give some to take some. "I mentioned I was a tool, correct?" She nodded. "However, humans are rather poor tools. They desire…" He paused, trying to think of the word that had been stripped from him. "Things? Goals?" Unsatisfied, he shrugged. "This makes them uncontrollable. In order to be the ideal tool, these things had to be taken from me."

"So you could be controlled." Her acceptance made James relax, allowing the word that he was searched for to slip away. "How?"

"Intense mental conditioning." Somehow, his tone sounded cold even to him. "Most often in the form of memory suppression." Seeking to avoid questions before they arose, he spoke quickly. "This is why I told you I didn't know my name, it was taken from me. A combination of drugs, technology and telepathy were likely employed."

The nonhuman was quiet for a moment, moving to sit in the empty chair across from him, her eyes fixed tightly on the cup of coffee. Her brow was furled, her thoughts flashing through her eyes with a quickness that was rather impressive. "I spent six months in the Alps once, absolutely convinced you were a gun for hire." She said admitted absentmindedly. "That you had retired to seclusion after a life of debauchery. I found nothing. Then another three in Cuba, four in Brazil and nine in South Africa."

"Your tenacity does you credit." He felt there was something coming, that it would be wise to cut off the women here. He lacked the social graces however, leaving him stuck in his seat like a small child watching his teacher shout at one of his peers.

"The worst part was the questions," His comment overridden, she stood up abruptly, walking to the kitchen counter. "Did you know I was after you? Did you care? How many nights did that question keep me up? I couldn't begin to count. I figured that you had to know something, I wasn't being the most covert when I was searching for you. Were you ignoring me? Running from me?"

Something was wrong. That feeling had grown exponentially as she talked, an almost physical pressure coming with it. Silently, he stood, moving back from the table in a guarded stance that allowed him proper movement if she did anything dangerous. The new angle allowed him to see that she was running a hand over her sword, her eye narrowed.

She didn't notice. "You didn't know at all, did you? You say you were frozen, then brainwashed." Her mouth moved almost wordlessly, something like 'kept from me?'

"Yes." He allowed, raising his voice in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "But it's over now."

He didn't believe that, not one bit. But when an emotionally compromised superhuman began stroking a sword with narrowed eyes, you either defused the situation or ran to the extraction. There was, needless to say, no extraction.

"Those who did that to you, they are dead?"

"Да." It wasn't a total lie, not really. The current round of doctors (he had outlived the original staff, after all) had been some of James first victims. After failing to kill the target, he had wandered back to the bank safe house, lost and dazed. The memories of the man's words and the mental stress had caused him to fall into a rage when they tried to treat him. None had walked away. "Yes."

"Good." Nodding, she exhaled before turning, her eyes soft. "They deserved it."

He couldn't bring himself to disagree.

"How does MBI figure into this?"

Finally ending finish giving proper context, James nodded. "I have remembered three things from before the last wipe. You and that clock tower are two of those things."

"I was wondering why you would come to the new capital, of all places." She returned to her own coffee cup, likely long cold by now. "The air is rather foul here."

James blinked, confused. He hadn't noticed a toxin in the air or any corpse that could cause interference with the air quality. He supposed it didn't matter. He could find out such things during his patrol of the city at large.

"MBI," he started slow, probingly. "You know them?"

She blinked, looking at him oddly before understanding crossed her face. "I keep forgetting how little you know about us." She rubbed her head. "I apologize. I was so focused on finding you that I never considered the aftermath."

"Is this about you're non-human status?" James asked after a moment of consideration, and was promptly placed under the piercing gaze once again.

"I mentioned that, didn't I?" She said, her face filling with relief, before consternation entered her eyes once again. "You are okay with that?"

Long buried instincts echoed, asking him to lie. He ignored them. "It depends."

"Upon?" she asked, looking much wearier then she had earlier.

"Your nature." James eyes narrowed. He needed information to complete the mission. "You're not a mutant that much is clear. Unlikely to be Asgardian, owing to speech patterns. So…" He allowed his voice to take on a hint of Winter. "What are you?"

"I am your Sekirei." She answered without a hint of fear. "One of 108 beings that crossed the stars above to unite with our chosen ones here, on Earth."

Aliens then, how cliché, he thought before frowning at the very Bucky like thought. Shaking his head, he moved the thought to the back of his head, best to deal with that particular bombshell later. He need focus now.

"Then there is unlikely to be a problem," he said rather flippantly. "You came to Earth to find your Ashikabi and then serve them. Assuming this encompasses your nature, I see can see no reason to label you as a threat."

"And that," Mutsu winced in response. "Is the problem."

James suppressed a grimace, crossing his arms tightly. "Problem?"

"MBI has created a problem." She replied easily, mirroring his gesture. "When we land on this planet, we were in an embryotic state. Frozen…" James flinched slightly. "We waited until two humans found our ship and 'grew' us."

She continued. "After the first attack on Kamikura Island," She looked up from her arms, into his eyes. "The place where we first met, one of the humans went…off the rails." At this she exhaled heavily, looking into the distance. "I don't know what happened, I was distracted in those days, but what resulted was the extensive manipulation of the Sekirei genome."

"Manipulation?" He bristled, aware his own genes had been modified by forces outside his control. "For what purpose?"

"To be weaponized." She answered simply, a hint of steel creeping into her voice. "To fight other Sekirei in a great battle royal that would leave only one winner."

James became very still. "A battle royal?" He said, voice pure Winter now, totally toneless. "With one winner?"

"Overseen by the company the two humans founded," She nodded. "Mid Bio Informatics."

For one long moment, James stood there, eyes locked on the alien as his mind settled. He let Bucky run through the problem, then Winter and finally James. Each offered their own insight and solution, but all asked the same question. "Are you involved? With this battle?" his voice had a noticeable Russian slant now, breaking through the toneless words from earlier.

"No. I escaped from MBI's care long before my peers and juniors were exposed to the conditioning." She said with absolute certainty.

Nodding, he turned suddenly, heading toward the door with speed. His hand ducked into the folds of his jacket only to produce his handgun, pulling back the slide to place a round in the chamber. The safety turned off with a click.

"I am not getting involved with this," He said over his shoulder to the alien, who had rushed out of the kitchen to follow him. "I will be leaving the city, today." He paused, one hand on the door and the other on the gun, turning to look at her. "Will you follow me?"

"I will go wherever you go." Was the replay as she strapped her sword to her thigh.

He turned the knob and both of them stepped into the light.

Well, originally this was intended to be released on Christmas, but I ended up settling for New Years. Disappointing, I know.

Anyway, I found this chapter choppy. I feel like I'm a sort of Frankenstein writer, taking pieces or passages from other (*coughbettercough*) writers and trying to connect them together. I don't know how it worked out, that's up to you fine folk.

Question time:

-Do you think Bucky can regain his memories? Assuming he does, will he ever really be 'Bucky' again?

-Does the inclusion of guns interfere with the story? Most Japanese media has an adversion to gun violence and Sekirei is no exception. Most gun use is marginalized or totally ignored, which I could do here if it becomes a issue, I suppose.

-Did I waste time with character descriptions? If your reading FanFic's, I like to think you know what characters look like without me telling you, due to manga/anime stuffs. But they pad my word count and add atmosphere.

As always, any feedback, praise, hatred, even flaming is appreciated.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Years and...

SEE YOU SOON, SPACE COWBOY.