A/N: Thanks for the reviews, you're all incredibly nice! For the record though, I don't think I intend to continue the one-shots (I know, that first one seems a bit out of place...) since these are just plot bunnies that I want to get out of my head or random typings when I get a block. Please ignore the OOCness. D:

[These drabbles are all unconnected.]

.Forever.

Neuro finds her sitting out on the roof on a cloudless night. It's late, but they both know the mother doesn't worry. Not when she's with him.

"What are you doing?" he asks as he walks up behind her hunched form. Yako is silent, gaze fixed on the heavens. When Neuro asks questions, he expects answers. And when slaves don't comply immediately, he dangles them over the railing until they do.

"Ok, ok, put me down already!" she yelps. Neuro is smug, a little smile playing on the corner of his lips. Yako pats down her ruffled hair and looks up in disgruntlement. "I was...I was, um, lookingforashootingstar." she mutters out all in a rush because she's suddenly realized just how childish it sounds, how stupid it would sound, to this man. This man who's lived foreverandever.

"Oho?" he grins, because he knows how she thinks. His little slave was just that transparent.

"Tonight is the best night for it, was on the news." She continues, because she knows he'd want any information that might help solve a mystery, even something like this. "Do you know the story behind shooting stars?"

"Of course I know – such a silly, human design." but she knows he doesn't, not really, since he's got that expectant look on his face (though he doesn't realize it himself at times).

"Yeah, you wish on a star and if you're lucky your wish gets granted." Neuro's face blanks, gets thoughtful. Yako grimaces, because she can imagine what he'll be thinking – of giant insects that'll pick me up and swing me around like a rag doll...of me finally relenting to becoming his slave, his dishcloth and furniture. "I hope you're not thinking something nasty again..." she grumbles, but all he does is laugh, scorn and amusement and a little bit of truth all rolled into one puff of breath.

He laughs not only to mock her, and not only for the sake of showing his amusement. If it were he'd just save his breath and grin a bit, a little fanged smile. But laugh and she relaxes, laugh and she trusts. Laugh, and that itsy bitsy thought goes away.

Neuro's smart, smart, smarter than you. But try as he might, he just can't understand the deeper workings of the human mind. Things like pity and altruism and love, they just baffle him. But hey, that's what his little slave over there is for.

She won't be around forever. Neuro knows, and it aggravates him. Not because she'll die one day and he'll have to get another slave, but because of how much this thought plagues him. He'll think he's tucked it away, locked it up forever, but somehow, somehow, it escapes and it's there again, weaving in amongst the mystery, louder and just as demanding as the call of hunger. No matter how much he tries to forget it, it just won't die. Back and back and back again, like some frustratingly loyal dog that'll march a hundred miles to find you. Even if you dump it and shout at it and throw it out the door. A little like her, actually.

So he'll stand there with her, until a shooting star comes flying down across the sky. He'll make a wish, and get rid of this pesky thought. A hundred moments pass as they both stare, quiet as the moon itself, waiting.

"LOOK! Neuro! I think I just saw something!"

He saw it, but he knew. It wasn't a shooting star. A flicker of taillights in the sky. But her hopeful face, her happy face... should he crush it? Should he crumble her hopes?

"Well, make a wish then."

But he won't. ...he wants to make a wish too, after all. She glances suspiciously at him before closing her eyes, a look of absolute concentration settling on her face. She grins, big and wide, as she opens her eyes. Her clothing rustles as she stands, walks back to the door.

"What did you wish for?" he asks as he follows her, curious. She hides a smile behind a hand, and he almost sees a wink.

"That's a secret. The wishes won't come true if you tell." She widens guileless eyes, and he suspects she is lying, just to dodge the question. Still, what if...? He frowns a little, pouts a bit. It was an unfair human design. Well, he won't tell her his then!

But it's not as if he'd tell her anyway. Not that wish.

I wish Yako'll live as long as I do, and save me the trouble of finding another slave.

Not that wish.

.Loyal.

It wasn't that Neuro enjoyed bragging. The fact that he was a genius was a mere fact, nothing more. Mysteries were a stimulant for him, the satisfaction of piecing together unrelated snippets to construct a logical whole was far greater than any physical hunger. And he knew he was better at it than anyone else. Even the Demon Emperor itself acknowledged this.

But Yako held a mystery far deeper than he could ever penetrate. It was something that science couldn't touch. Human nature. In a world supported by fragile theories, mysteries of nature are split apart and dissected into formulas and schemas by the knowledge-hungry mankind. It was ironic really, that the greatest mystery was themselves. How do you explain the homicidal actions of one raised around love? Which formula do you apply when dealing with the equation of the human soul? What are identical twins if they are not perfectly identical? Why do they experience wonder and appreciate beauty?

Neuro walks beside this wall separating knowledge and understanding, and sees, sometimes, the shadow of his girl-slave as she wanders the human heart. And, sometimes, it aches and pulls and irritates to see a difference he'll never overcome. He doesn't like it. He doesn't want it.

And what if, one day, she found out? That in reality, she had surpassed him, she was superior, in this aspect at least. Would they become...equals? Would she...leave?

That wouldn't – mustn't, his mind whispered traitorously – ever occur. He'll make sure. She'll learn inferiority and submission; he'll imprint it on her, like a dog of Pavlov. Dogs were loyal, obedient. They'd never leave a master, not even when faced with death.