Her hair is not that specific shade of fanalis red that he remembers so vividly in childhood dreams of adventure-filled, carefree days. It's ebony-magenta, and impractically long. Her scream doesn't drive away wolves, doesn't send them crashing into walls with the strength of inhuman sound waves. It may signify quite a number of equally ferocious things, from the defeat of a battalion of monsters to the annihilation of one teeny weeny spider.

Off he goes to rescue her from another nightmare of scrolls.

"What happened to you?"

"It was raining."

"Raining? Seriously? Alibaba-chan, you look as if a volcano erupted all over you."

"Like I said, it was raining, so I was forced to spend the afternoon in the research facility. Guess it wasn't the smartest idea, huh?"

His jewelry is sparse. Nothing like golden bangles about to swallow his forearm, or enormous hoops flaunting their existence in his profile. He has two sets of the simplest jade earrings and nothing more. His hair isn't black or red, and she thinks it's wonderful because those colors have only ever wanted to drown her.

He sends her an amused smirk, but whether it's because of the silliness of Ka Koubun's latest proposal or the lagoons of dust painting themselves on her face, she'll never know.

"It's just a cockroach, Kougyoku."

"B-but still, it's a cockroach!"

"Well?"

"You gotta kill it! And hurry! Before it crawls under my bed!"

This wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to become such close friends. They weren't supposed to meet again in Sindria, or Magnostadt, or Balbadd, or Kou. Alibaba should have stayed dead and Kougyoku had no reason to appoint him as Prime Minister.

But the world has changed and Kou has changed and the rules are different now. So, if the two highest officials in the land decide to spend an otherwise boring hour playing hide-and-seek down the ancient corridors of the palace, not one living soul dares object.

Even a very exasperated Ka Koubun.

"Kids these days," he mutters with a heavy sigh, hoping against hope that the loud crash from down the hall was not another precious antique vase gone to waste.

A minute passes.

Two...

Three...

Who's he kidding?

He rises to his feet with a groan. Time to pay a visit to the royal treasury.