Author's Notes: Dang... I CANNOT seem to stop writing for this series, can I? It's just..... addicting. Truly addicting. XD Makes me wonder why there isn't more love for this series. I mean, seriously. Ah well... This was just a really quick oneshot I wrote a few weeks ago that I hated, but now I've kind of warmed up to it. Please tell me what you think! ^_^ And as for my in-progress stories, no, I have NOT forgotten about them, these oneshots just seem to keep interrupting me. But I am working on them I promise. :)

Every day, it seemed the strings were growing tighter. The hours were quickly vanishing during which she could spend some free time with her friends, or even alone. In fact, the hours she could even think in peace were disappearing even more quickly. The stress was becoming too much to bear. Any second, she was sure her head would explode from the pressure.

When exactly had her life become revolved around the demon called Nougami Neuro? Oh, that's right: the second she saw him, when he'd struck terror into her heart, along with the bizarre hope of finally solving her father's murder. Ever since that moment, she'd practically been living, thinking, and breathing for that monster – against her will. Even now, Katsuragi Yako was rushing to the office early on a Sunday morning, fully expecting to be sacrificing the rest of her free day to backbreaking torture and verbal abuse. Oh well, she had no choice really, a fact she was constantly being reminded of.

Katsuragi Yako threw open the door to the office. "Sorry I'm late!!" she shouted; it had become a reflex. No matter what hour she arrived, Neuro would deem her late and punish her, so she closed her eyes and immediately braced herself for the onslaught. It never came.

Cautiously opening one eye, Yako looked around for the blue-clad demon. Perhaps he was hiding somewhere, waiting to pop out and…

Both eyes widened in shock and horror when they spotted Neuro at last. He was reclining in his chair behind his desk, leaning back with his eyes closed, drenched in blood. His breathing was shallow, if he was even breathing at all. Only now did Yako notice the puddles of blood on the floor leading from where she stood all the way to the desk.

For a long time, the schoolgirl detective could think of nothing to do. The shock was still too much. She'd seen him wounded before, but never this badly. Her heart felt like it had stopped completely, then suddenly began pounding in her ears, blocking out all other noises, making it impossible for her to think. He knees wobbled dangerously until she managed to take a step forward. Then another. Then another. She barely registered that she had dropped her bag and was now running until she was standing beside him.

"N…Neuro…" she gasped, hardly knowing what else to say or do. A part of her wanted to touch his arm, just to nudge him gently and hope that he would respond and not be dead. Another part of her told her not to dare touch him. He may be an all powerful demon, but in that moment he looked so weak and fragile that she feared one small touch would shatter him completely. And the rest of her? The rest was blank, completely lost.

"Please wake up… Neuro…" Throwing caution to the winds, Yako laid her hand very gently on the demon's arm, gripping his sleeve and tugging slightly. "Neuro, can you hear me?? Please say something!"

Very slowly, the demon's eyes began to open. Yako had seen his eyes so many times, but she'd never noticed how incredibly hollow and lonely they looked. Had they always been this way? Or was this something different, a new side of Nougami Neuro that he'd never allowed her to see? No, she'd seen it before, very briefly, but she'd seen it. They weren't hollow or lonely at all. They were only sad, but filled with determination and trust.

Those emerald eyes fixed themselves upon her face, boring through her like they were attempting to burn away the tears that were quickly flooding Yako's vision.

"There you are, louse," Neuro announced, his voice husky and quiet. "You're late."

"What happened, Neuro?!" Yako demanded, her grip on his sleeve tightening.

"I solved a mystery on my own for once. It would have been most enjoyable, except… The culprit will be severely punished for this, believe me, slave," Neuro answered. He was trying to sound strong, but Yako could see through it. He was in great pain.

"Will you be all right?" she asked desperately. How many bullet holes were there? Thirty? Fifty? Were the bullets still imbedded in him, or were only the wounds left behind, struggling to heal? The sight of so much blood was maddening. How could this happen?? Surely not to a demon. Not to Neuro!

"Get a hold of yourself, Slave Number 1," Neuro ordered in exasperation. He paused, feeling something cool and wet sliding over his cheek. "Stop that incessant crying," he added, his voice a bit softer. Why did she always have to cry over him when he was injured? It was shameful.

Another teardrop slid down his cheek, and suddenly Yako did something she never would have dared attempt unless she was as upset as she was now; leaning over Neuro, she pressed her forehead against his and just cried.

The strings were tightening around her. It was painful, oh so painful… Until she was jarred out of her pain by a hand laid gently behind her head. The long fingers gripped her hair, but didn't pull. Of any touch she'd ever experienced, this was the gentlest Yako had ever received from Neuro.

Every day, it seemed the strings were growing tighter. The hours were quickly vanishing during which she wanted to spend time with anyone else besides him. In fact, the hours she could even think without him in her thoughts where disappearing even more quickly. These feelings were becoming too much to bear. Any second, she was sure her heart would burst from the pressure.

When exactly had her life become revolved around the demon called Nougami Neuro? Or better yet, when exactly had she fallen for said demon? One thing Yako knew for sure at that moment was that the puppet strings she'd believed to have been her chains all this time had really been cut long ago; perhaps they'd never existed at all besides in her imagination. So what was keeping her bound to this office, to this job, to this creature?

Who could say?