It was hot that night in Asaka, one that would go down in history as one of the hottest ever recorded. A thick, oppressive humidity hung uninvited in the air and snuck slick, vaporous tendrils down the city's many throats, making every breath harder than it should have been and bearing down on skin and lungs with far more abandon that any daylight hour.

Of course, Yoshikage knew that it was all an elaborate illusion on physics' part. Heat that had been trapped in the Kurusu house's walls radiated outward as the air itself cooled, creating a greater disparity between hot and cold that was more easily felt by anyone trying to focus on anything except the heat and get a nice eight hours of rest. Add that onto one's own body working against them and you had a recipe for an awfully restless night. There wasn't even a girlfriend to indulge in to take his mind off of current events, dangerous as it would be to keep one here.

He was leaking sweat as a burst pipe leaks water, turning his hair to sticky strands that always seemed to drag along his scalp no matter how many times he brushed them away, like the plague of mosquitoes that can't seem to be stemmed no matter how many bug nets are deployed or buzzing little demons crushed. To think, he had come into this house expecting the liminal houseguest to be his primary aggressors when it had turned out to be himself.

'Ironic,' he thought.

Looking out of the window next to his bed, above the cold radiator, he could see the perfectly rounded face of the full moon. It hung in the sky like a fat blot of white paint against a background of messy black tar, surrounded by much smaller pinpricks that represented the stars from distant space. He had always found that interesting, how enormous objects could look so minute in comparison to something much closer simply because of the observer's perspective. He supposed the whole concept was like himself, in a way. People would look upon the tiny, shining facade he constructed and never once noticing his real nature hidden only just behind it, totally absorbed with what was right in their face as they were, never thinking to look behind them. And weren't the mechanics of stars and their life cycles so much more fascinating, more beautiful, more honest, than the lifeless surface of a natural satellite, just as the pursuit and eventual climax of a body turning to ash at the tip of Killer Queen's finger was the truest form of Yoshikage Kira as opposed to some lifeless office worker who knew no purpose outside of pleasing whatever bosses he served at his desk?

The amorphous stellar nebula that so resembled his Stand's formlessness inside his soul, the familiar itch building up and surging beneath his skin in the form of an inescapable sphere of nuclear energy. The unbearable expansion as more time passed and it became harder to conceal as it let off ever more light that slipped through new crack in his mask. The supernova of freedom as he cast off his social shackles and poured everything that was Yoshikage Kira into the next unsuspecting woman on his list. The black hole that developed with extended age, able to bend space and even time itself, unconquerable, living forever.

All shoved behind a giant rock.

That glowing moon was his life's great act. It would draw the attention of the unaware away from the infinite cosmos but always bind him. He couldn't reach it with a bomb, and even if he could what good would it do? It would always be there, mocking him from a distance.

Still, for all he looked he never managed to see even a hint of a rabbit up there. In his opinion people were just deluding themselves with that one.

Kira sighed and wiped his brow, his hand coming back coated with sweat. The scent of water vapour in the atmosphere again greeted his nose when he inhaled. This was getting ridiculous. It was Japanese summer, of course, but Kimihito had the air conditioning turned on throughout the house and Kira was lying naked except for a pair of baggy boxer shorts, his bedsheets banished to the foot of his bed. If he didn't know any better he would have assumed he was coming down with a case of the common cold.

Maybe that was it, some sort of mysterious illness. To say the thought was troubling would have been an understatement; Yoshikage Kira did not tolerate any potential source of stress and disease certainly fit the description. Perhaps he should check his temperature? Kimihito likely had a thermometer in his bathroom somewhere, a good place to start. The clammy blond doubted his neighbour would mind.

Unlike Kira's own house, Kimihito's main bathroom and toilet were on the ground floor while only a small room, more akin to a cupboard in all honesty, containing nothing but a matching toilet and sink could be found upstairs, a little down the hall from him. Kira supposed that his neighbour's layout made more sense, and he wondered why their homes were so different despite being built at similar times. Right now, though, he was cursing whatever architect designed this place for giving him another floor and an entire set of stairs to silently traverse.

Kira lifted himself from the mattress, the covering clinging to his sweat-covered back before peeling away with a sickly sensation. After taking a moment to throw on the spare bathrobe that Kimihito had luckily felt the need to lend him - a tad baggy around the waist, what with the article originally belonging to Kimihito's rather generously-proportioned father - for dignity's sake, he was on his way. Trying not to think about how he had been stewing in his own perspiration he went on light feet, determined not to draw any attention to himself in an otherwise-asleep househo-

Scrape.

The hairs on the back of Kira's neck stood on end as the heat was far-too-quickly replaced by the coldness of unease. A pink glow surrounded him as Killer Queen stepped out into the world, its unblinking eyes and protective posture the very definition of alertness. Kira craned his ear against the crack in his door.

His mind was a blur as it raced over the possible scenarios. Burglars, if he was lucky. That would be nice. They'd be easy to deal with, especially if the rest of the household hadn't fought onto their presence yet. If he wasn't lucky, though - an unnervingly common state of existence for him nowadays - he could be in for another encounter with an enemy Stand user.

His teeth ground together, his fingernails began to itch and he might have started sweating even more were it possible. Where was this seemingly endless flow of new foes coming from, how could he stem it? What hornet's nest had he somehow managed to kick this time? Yoshikage Kira was a man who went so far as to spit in the face of death to escape his antagonists, yet they never stopped approaching, eyes wicked and sickle-shaped grins bared like demons as they skulked out of their pits towards him with the sole intention of burning everything he was to the ground. Morioh had been snatched from him thirteen months ago by a cabal of self-righteous children playing with powers they barely understood and a sense of righteousness too strong for their own good, and now this alternate Asaka he called home seemed to be headed the same way. How very, very, very infuriating.

Tension turned to anger, the pink flames flared brighter and higher, more furiously. So, they wanted to fight, did they? Those self-absorbed vigilantes wanted to disrupt his peace, push him to the very brink and then further? Well, fine! Let them come! He was sick of hiding like a sewer rat in the shadows, it brought shame to the modern apex predator he was! He would teach them, teach them all what happened to those who knew the real Yoshikage Kira!

Scrape. And there it was again. As though something large and heavy was being dragged across the hardwood floor. And it was getting closer.

Stepping backwards but still listening as closely as ever, he realised that it wasn't a series of repeating sounds, but rather one long sound that varied in amplitude at regular intervals. The tension faded to give way to a now-reactionary mild annoyance. Of course, something wasn't being dragged, something was dragging itself. Kira had a fairly good idea of the culprit.

But what was Miia doing up at this time? Could she, too, be feeling the heat a little too much to be comfortable? But that would be odd, too odd. If lamias were as close to snakes as his - admittedly limited - knowledge suggested, then she would welcome such high temperatures with open arms. Or perhaps that was the problem, if too little heat could cause lethargy then it wasn't a stretch to assume too much heat might result in restlessness as with other poikilotherm species. She was probably on her way to the bathroom to cool off in the shower.

'It would be better to stay here and wait,' he mused.

Gradually she slithered on by, her lengthy tail audibly undulating outside his door, almost stealthy were it not for the hard wooden floorboards betraying her. But as the last bit of her tail passed and she reached approximately where the stairs would be he heard not more dragging sounds of a tail that scraped and dropped onto step after wooden step in contrast to the rest of the otherwise silent household, but instead total silence. She had stopped.

Had she ran out of confidence when it came to the stairs? Surely not, she had conquered them earlier with shockingly little noise and had lived here over a month. But if she wasn't going to the bathroom then where was she going? Spurred on by uncharacteristic curiosity he moved closer to the door and eased it open, his movement barely visible to the human eye it was so gradual to retain utter silence.

As soon as a crack no wider than a few centimetres opened he peeked through it, looking towards the source of the sounds. Sure enough, he instantly spotted the end of a long, muscular serpent's tail that he soon traced along its scales to Miia's upper body. She was parked outside the door of none other than Kimihito, a fact that brought a lance of annoyance through Kira's mind. The foolish snake, was she deaf as well as stupid? Had his expert advice gone into one ear and straight out of the other? Yes, he may have had ulterior motives on that balcony, but that didn't change the fact that his input would be purely beneficial to her romantic pursuit, illegal though it may be. Yet here she was, about to ignore every word he'd given her and ruin another night just as he'd known she surely would. Were it not for the sake of silence Kira would have huffed in indignation.

Yet, upon closer inspection, something about Miia seemed… off. Kira could barely see more than her outline, but that was enough to notice her posture was no longer the energetic, almost jagged series of movements he knew but instead something smooth that flowed like fine wine. Calculated, yet entirely effortless. In the limited light from the moon that crept in through the window he could see her skin had changed too. It appeared to shine damply in the moonlight, wet and supple with a film of sweat Kira was certain a poikilotherm could not produce and radiate an almost erotic heat that Kira was certain a poikilotherm could not emit. She had a similar yet definitely distinct aura than usual, one that spoke less of a childlike crush and instead exuded something more mature, more certain. If he wasn't mistaken the lamia was even wearing some form of translucent lingerie complete with lace outlines, and despite her usual libidinous attitude he got the impression that it wasn't something she'd commonly wear.

Yes, this wasn't the girl that went unsubtly crashing about at ungodly hours. She looked to have donned an entirely different persona tonight. But why? What was the occasion?

As Kira pondered whether or not he himself was to blame for this sudden manifestation of self-assuredness, the errant lamia softly rapped on the door twice, each knock hardly even audible, and slowly opened the door.

"Darling…" she whispered, sticking her head through the newly created gap. "You still awake?"

"Miia?" Kira heard Kimihito's confused, slightly lethargic voice drift from within the room. It seemed Miia had woken him up. As inconsiderate as she was predictable.

"I couldn't sleep. Can we talk?" She asked, voice quiet yet not meek or apprehensive as she slipped in before even getting confirmation.

"Uh, it's a little late, but sure. You seem kind of-" Kimihito's whispered reply was suddenly cut off as though caught in his throat as a light clicked on. So, he'd finally seen what she was wearing.

"I'm really glad you said that, Darling…" Miia said, her voice hissing and husky. "You're so considerate…"

The snake's tail disappeared behind the door just before it was pressed shut, leaving only the sound of muffled conversation - or rather the muffled pleading of one prudish young adult coupled with the affections of his inhuman housemate - filtering under the door.

The coast clear, Kira exhaled through his nose once again and with a roll of his eyes began to creep to his original destination. The stairs were just across from Kimihito's room, which meant that if he wanted to stay unnoticed Kira would have to be especially silent. Channeling his inner stalker was usually effortless, given that was his most natural state, yet using it for something so mundane as sneaking to a bathroom wasn't something Kira had ever imagined doing and almost threatened to throw him off. Yet it was simple enough to imagine himself creeping through the residence of a girlfriend-to-be, and before he knew it he was on the ground floor and inside without a sound.

Kira fingered along the wall for the light switch, taking care not to confuse it with the one for the ventilation fan, and was bathed in light as he took in the bathroom. However, it was not the bathroom he was prepared for.

The entire room was at least twice as long as the already-large one he remembered, and had received a complete makeover. Circular lights lined the walls at regular intervals, covering the entire space with soft, yellowish-white light, Instead of the quaint porcelain bathtub in the corner, Kira was greeted by a giant thing, a tile-plated behemoth that took up almost half of all floor space. Next to it was a shower below a mirror significantly wider than any human would need and above a shelf of assorted soaps, shampoos and scrubs. On the opposite side of the room was the cabinet he'd been looking for.

Opening the door and scanning through toiletries soon brought Kira to a thermometer, a sophisticated digital model. He gave it a quick rinse in the sink, put it in his mouth and, upon seeing the reading adopted an expression of pure horror.

'38.7 degrees Celsius! Barely a hair's breadth away from a serious fever!' He tested the thermometer again in hopes that it was a fluke, but the digital numbers still flashed the same.

Kira barely noticed the fingers in his mouth. Goodness, he needed to get in contact with his doctor, find some ice to alleviate the growing heat, drink plenty of-

He was ripped from his slew of concerns by the sound of glass shattering. Instantly he was on high alert, all discomforts set aside as his senses were magnified in their effectiveness. The lights became uncomfortably bright, his nose singled out individual scents from the floral assortment of soaps, the slightest of his movements sent a wave of sensation across the disturbed hairs from the artificial wind, a coppery tang stemming from his nail beds overtook his mouth.

He could clearly hear the sounds of a scuffle upstairs.

Damn! Damn! Could it be more Stand users already? In Morioh it had been days between Shigechi Yangu's murder and his encounter with Jotaro Kujo and Koichi Hirose at the tailor's. Now, barely twenty four hours had passed and he was already being accosted again! Whoever these assailants were, these allies of Vino, Fusilli and Ala, they were ten times as bloodthirsty as Jotaro Kujo's cabal. And to attack a home involved with the Cultural Exchange, with no less than three extraspecies houseguests? They were ten times as bold, too. That, or they were very confident in their abilities. Still, whether that confidence was well-founded had yet to be tested, and test it Yoshikage would.

Sucking his fingers clean of the rivulets of ruby liquid running down them, Kira switched off the lights and allowed his most dangerous side to emerge as he crept out into the hall. Killer Queen manifested slowly, deliberately, barely even translucent next to its user. Through its impeccable feline-like eyesight and their shared bond Kira could see even better in the dim moonlight, his Stand's eyes efficiently lapping up whatever meagre moonbeams they could catch and translating it into an image tinted slightly red.

Voices drifted down the stairs. His housemates, definitely in some sort of panic. Kimihito's was the most audible, a series of terrified yelps.

The safest option would be staying downstairs, letting everyone up above die so as to buy himself some time to set up a trap. Kira expected to feel that familiar instinct for self-preservation that told him to make every sacrifice, take every shortcut, to discard everyone as pawns as long as it would guarantee his own safety.

Yet something small and otherwise insignificant chewed at his thoughts like a gnat, something foreign, alien, to the Stand user. It was a mere whisper in his ear, but it hounded him with all the gusto of an orchestra. It urged him to climb the stairs. It sounded almost like his young neighbour, Kimihito.

What just happened? Did he, Yoshikage Kira, really feel the desire to save someone despite the risk to himself?

He shook his head rigidly. 'No, I must simply be worried about the tactical disadvantage of them losing their lives. Were they to die now, with me in the house, the government investigation could crush my peace of mind forever. That's all! Besides, I might be able to get the drop on the enemy while they're distracted instead of giving them time to mentally recover. That would be a valuable tactical advantage.'

Kira continued down the hall, his well-trained feet leaving only the softest of sticking noises as he edged his way along the parts he knew would produce the least noise even as he passed through the hall and ascended the stairs. The sounds of commotion, verifiably from Kimihito's room now, grew ever louder, but the experienced Stand user was not deterred in the slightest. He moved like a phantom, not a single creak rising from the almost-icy floorboards-

A door next to him shot wide open, whipping his hair and revealing a towering, ink-black shadow of a person standing behind it who held in their hands a wicked blade that flashed insidiously in the meagre illumination that reached in. Killer Queen, ever dutifully by Kira's side, made with a powerful punch that was only held back from caving in the skull of the monstrous silhouette when he noticed the outline of some rather telling furry ears on its head.

Centorea stared at Yoshikage with wide eyes, completely oblivious to the Stand's fist held barely a centimetre from her smoothed, noble features. Her face was only barely visible, moonlight from the nearby landing windows exposing more and more of her human half as she leant out from the doorframe.

"Mr… ah, Kira?" She inquisitively loomed over him, using her extra inches of height to great effect.

"That would be me, yes," he whispered somewhat rigidly, trying to recover from the pounding heartbeat that filled his throat as Killer Queen awkwardly retracted its arm. There were times to be thankful for Stands' invisibility; this was definitely one of them.

She quickly lowered the sword to her waist and bowed. "A-Ah, I apologise! I was roused by the sound of breaking glass and prepared for combat as quickly as I could." Those words seemed to spur her back into action, hastily reentering her combat stance and nearly taking the tip of Kira's nose as she pulled the weapon back up were it not for a helpful nudge from Killer Queen. "T-That reminds me! Our good sir is in mortal peril!"

With that she dashed out of the room, Kira barely avoiding her ungainly equine half as it manoeuvred through the too-small doorway and straight past him. Taking a quick glance into her room, the salaryman noticed the vague shapes of moving boxes, what appeared to be uninstalled traditional Japanese decor and… a faint scent of hay?

'Bah, there's no time for that! I've got to-'

Kira didn't get time to finish the thought, for he was interrupted by one of the loudest non-explosive noises he'd ever heard. Looking in its direction of origin he found that Centorea, rather than simply open the door, had instead elected to smash it off of its hinges with her great weight and was now standing on it, flattened against the floor like some rigid carpet as it was. The disjointed twitching that came from underneath it didn't bode well either.

"Ahh, I was too late!" came Centorea's dismayed cry.

With a shake of his head Kira rushed to the scene, but any words of reprimand he would've spoken were caught in his throat when he saw the carnage inside.

There was the smashed window he'd heard, the echoes of the city's perpetual motion drifting over the vast swathe of soundly sleeping rooftops amidst nighttime noises like chirping insects and the odd yowling feline. Mismatched slivers of broken glass decorated the surrounding floor and furniture, ranging in size from ugly shards to powder that lay scattered like a fine dusting of icing sugar upon a cake. On the bed was one seemingly stunned Miia, who too was covered in shards of glass as her eyelids fluttered and pained groans escaped her lips. He could properly see her outfit now, just as lewd and lacy as he'd suspected. The tasteful translucency was a thoughtful touch, though, he'd give her that.

He looked downward. At the mettlesome centaur's hooves were Kimihito and Papi, the latter still trying to dazedly drag herself from beneath her wooden prison and the former pitifully clutching at the back of his head. Kira frowned as another sudden needle of thought struck him in the depths of his mind. There it was again, that uncharacteristic desire to jump into action for his neighbour's sake. He liked Kimihito, yes, but such thoughts were still disturbingly out of character, especially now that danger was nowhere to be seen.

Even then, though, the relief he felt at there being neither a Stand nor Stand user to be found was difficult to ignore. The sudden resurgence of Stand users in his life had burst completely out of the blue and, truth be told, he hadn't been able to truly, properly relax ever since the Lakeside incident even if there weren't extraspecies living next door. His constant fear of another Morioh he'd forced down still bit and nibbled at his flesh like a viral infection, leaving him a bundle of nerves ready to recoil and bite at the slightest prodding from danger. Getting to holster the proverbial pistol for once was a wonderful feeling.

Not that he'd taken his hand off the grip completely, however. Killer Queen's faintest of outlines yet hovered behind its master, ready to intervene at any moment. Stand user or not, something was wrong here, and for the sake of keeping peace of mind Kira would find out what.

"Ahhhh, I was too late!" dispaired Centorea. Oh, well, at least she'd had the decency to move off the door and help the man up.

"Centorea? Mr Kira?" Kimihito swayed precariously as Kira and Centorea each stealing him with a hand on a shoulder. "Man, my head hurts…"

"You may be concussed. We should get you to a doctor as soon as possible," Kira said as he quickly checked each of Kimihito's eyes. The young man just cradled his head.

"it doesn't make sense," he said, "why are they both so riled up?"

"I know why."

The two men turned to Centorea, who had stepped over to the gaping hole in the wall that used to be a window.

"You do?" Kira asked, eyebrow quirked.

"Indeed." She gestured to the sky. "'Tis the full moon! A night that calls out the basest of instincts with utmost force!"

'The full moon?' Kira thought. 'Now that I think, I'm certain I've heard something about that. Then that means…'

"These two have obviously given in to tonight's temptations and lost themselves in their primal lust…" The centaur pointed one immaculately manicured finger at Kimihito. "Lust for you, sir!"

"L-Lust?! T-That's- don't go around saying incriminating stuff like that!" Kimihito suddenly forgot his pain and turned to her with a face of scandalised crimson. "People might get the wrong idea, then I really will go to jail!"

A stray thought suddenly crossed Yoshikage's mind. "Hold on. If extraspecies lose their reasoning on full moons, then Centorea-"

The salaryman was almost knocked over by the sudden force of Kimihito grabbing him shoulders.

"Mr Kira! It's not what you think, there's no lust or anything between me and Miia, or Papi, o-or anyone!" the young man pleaded with frantic eyes. "I'd never take advantage any girl like that, especially a liminal one… no, wait, that sounds even worse! W-What I'm trying to say is I'd never break the law under any circumstance-"

"Yet is it not true that you invited your neighbour to stay here without express permission from the Cultural Exchange, a gross breach of contract?" Centorea butted in helpfully, or maybe unhelpfully. Before the sputtering man could build back up to a response, she looked at Kira with a dismissive hand wave. "You have nothing to fear, sir. While the full moon's pull is indeed powerful, these girls were likely overcome by it because they are untutored in the art of resistance. I, on the other hand, am a proud, upstanding servant of justice trained for years in many knightly fields, amongst them being self-control. I would never allow carnal desire to override my senses, especially during such an important mission!"

The centaur shot a wide, fiery grin and strode with purpose halfway through the door, her hind end sticking out into the hall while the one holding a sword ventured inside what would undoubtedly soon become the chamber of a grand battle. She had become an immovable sentinel, a chivalrous bulwark between her host and dangers both physical and legal.

"Centorea…" was Kimihito's hushed, awed response, the beginnings of a smile on him semi-bruised face.

But Kira wasn't at ease just yet. The centaur's dedication to her cause certainly spoke volumes of her iron will, but perhaps overly so?

"Kimihito," Kira leaned in close and whispered to his friend, "do you see anything wrong about the way Centorea's acting?"

The younger man frowned. "What do you mean? She said she's got the willpower to resist the full moon and now she's proving it."

"Yes, but don't you think she's acting a little too chivalrous? I could understand if she looked to only be doing her job, but fighting for a person you've only just met so enthusiastically? The way she was looking at you there felt as if there was something more to that speech, something that shouldn't have been there. An outside influence."

Kimihito's eyes widened as he cottoned on to Kira's implication. They turned their heads to the centaur warily, who was still watching the two other liminals like a hawk, and then back to each other.

"Well, now that you mention it…" Kimihito started nervously, "she did look… weird when I told her you'd be sleeping over. She had this look in her eyes, like she wasn't all there. She had the same look just now. You don't think that…?"

Kira nodded gravely. "It's safer to assume so than not. Unfortunate as it may be, we only have ourselves to rely on right now."

"Then what should we do?"

"Run."

As if on cue, a great clamour arose behind them. They turned to see Centorea's legs straining against great red coils, standing fast yet being slowly overcome. Miia was back in fighting shape, it seemed.

"We need to move, quickly!" Kira urged, grabbing Kimihito's wrist and dragging him along like unwilling luggage. He cleared the stairs in two long bounds while the younger man had to break contact and run down normally. Behind them, the battle grew louder.

"Hurry up!"

"I'm not as fit as you!"

Their bickering stopped as the sound of scrabbling claws on wood and a "get back here, feather-headed simpleton!" from Centorea reached them, presaging the worst. Kira's eyes darted from side to side frantically until they settled on an adequate target.

Kira yanked open a nearby cupboard door. "In here!" the blond urged, shoving the younger man inside before he could protest and slamming it shut again. Not a second too soon, either, as down the stairs at that moment came a battered, panting and very feral-looking harpy.

Papi had perched halfway up the stairs, slick black talons sinking into the wood with far more force than usual. She was hunched over like an animal with her massive wings fully flared, a dead ringer for some great bird of prey examining a fresh piece of meat. Her hair was wild, shaggy with exertion and plain carelessness. Her savage gaze fixed with his own, golden irises shimmering with unadulterated hunger. With her body exposed like this, Kira could really see just how bad the fight above had been.

Centorea's valiant stand had certainly done a number on Papi. An impressive assortment of cuts, welts and bruises checkered the avian extraspecies' body, notable amongst them a prominent limp, a black eye and a busted lip still dripping blood. Kira briefly pondered what that would mean for the Exchange before setting it aside in favour of more current events.

"Yellow Man…" she growled heavily, husky yet tinted with undeniable danger, "where's Boss?"

"That way." Kira said, not missing a beat as he pointed back up the stairs behind her. The harpy let out a delighted crow before she turned and barrelled away like a missile, leaving a generous trail of loose feathers drifting to the ground behind her.

Satisfied that the danger had passed, Kira opened the closet and reached for Kimihito again, heading for the door. "Come on, she's gone. We need to get you out of here, somewhere they won't think to look at least until sunrise. My house is no good, Miia would guess that in an instant, but the supermarket is open twenty-four-seven even on weekend, it should-"

Kira suddenly noticed that at some point in his monologue Kimihito had yanked his arm from Yoshikage's grip and now stood a few feet away, his expression apologetic yet hard and sure as steel.

Kira beckoned hurriedly. "What are you doing? Get moving, even Papi won't fall for that one for long!"

Kimihito shook his head. "I can't do that, Mr Kira."

"What?" Kira hissed incredulously.

"The girls aren't themselves. We can't blame them for what they're doing. But society at large will. Just think, a guy and his recently-assaulted houseguest get chased down by crazed monsters while they turn on each other and rampage unsupervised around the city like wild animals, spitting in the face of every law they swore to respect when they signed up for the program? People against interspecies coexistence would eat up all the chaos like free candy, tearing down everything that's been worked for all these years. All the struggles of the Exchange, the leaps of faith made by both humanity and the extraspecies kingdoms, the hopes of every happy family living with a liminal under its roof… it'll all be for nothing if this gets out!"

Kira shook his head, he just couldn't believe what he was hearing. "And you'd quite literally risk your life to prevent that outcome?"

"I have to."

Kira strode towards the younger man with an outstretched hand. "You're being ridiculous. Just follow me." However, Kimihito stepped out of range.

Kimihito stood tall, his eyes alight with determined fire. "You're free to get out of here if you want, Mr Kira, but I'm not leaving." He ran further down the hall, into the second left door that led to the kitchen. Into potential danger.

'Follow him,' the voice urged. Kira groaned as he started after his neighbour. He really would have to do something about that little mental nuisance later.

He stepped through the door, making sure to close it behind him, and took a moment to absorb his surroundings. Thanks to the enormous sliding glass doors taking up most of the opposite wall it was better-lit than the rest of the building, allowing him to clearly see his neighbour crouched beside the table. The younger man appeared to be completely focused on fiddling with something in his hands, whispered curses coming from his hunched form. Kira tiptoed over and crouched beside him. "Kimihito."

"Gk-!" The host almost jumped out of his skin, nearly dropping whatever he was fumbling with. "Mr Kira, could you please not sneak up on me like that?"

Peering over the other's shoulder, Yoshikage saw that the thing Kimihito was messing with was actually his phone. The colourful LCD screen was set to its lowest brightness - smart - and displayed an icon of a ringing phone pending acceptance. It was just a shame that Kira was so very put off by the name Kimihito was trying to call.

"You think that Smith will be able to help us now?" Kira gave Kimihito a sceptical look.

Kimihito shrugged. "Miss Smith is my coordinator, maybe she'll know what to do?" It was much more of a hopeful question than a definite statement of fact, and both of them knew it.

"Truly, the confidence the Exchange inspires is unshakeable," Kira deadpanned.

After seconds that the tension extended to feel like minutes the call went through and Kimihito's face immediately brightened with relief. With urgency great enough that he nearly struck himself upside the head in his haste, he began verbally unloading into the microphone.

"Miss Smith, thank God you picked up! Listen, it's a full moon tonight and Papi and Miia have gone nuts! They're all riled up for… u-uh, some reason! Centorea managed to keep control, she's holding Miia back but Papi managed to slip past. It's only a matter of time before she finds-" The unbroken torrent of words suddenly halted for a moment, a quizzical expression taking shape on his face. "Uh, Miss Smith?"

Kira's jaw tensed. "What's the matter?"

Kimihito turned his head. "She's just talking over me, like I'm not there."

"What? Give it here," Kira said, swiping the device from his neighbour's hand and pressing it to his own ear. "Smith!" He spoke in a low breath. "What are you doing? We're trapped in the kitchen, do your job and help us!"

He listened closely to the scratchy audio, just able to make out words in the background. "Hmm, this coffee tastes a little off… Manako, be a dear and grab me a sugar sachet, would you?"

Kira barely held in his shocked sputtering. A client of her agency was coming to her in a time of great need, and she would ignore them in favour of coffee?! She wasn't even at her phone! What sort of blundering, substandard government would ever hire someone even slightly as negligent at their job as her, much less allow them to rise to a position of such gravity? The voice that sounded like Kimihito was getting very riled up.

Before the little voice could goad him into a veritable barrage of venom-tipped criticism he, at that time, very much wanted to indulge in, however, he was stopped by further noise from the receiver.

"Oh, right, I forgot! Yeah, this is Agent Kuroko Smith. You've reached my voicemail since I'm probably doing something super-important right now. Leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you when I can." A click and a piercing beep followed, then there was only silence.

"…Stupid, arrogant…" He pushed the phone back into Kimihito's waiting hands and momentarily set aside his simmering disdain to focus on the task at hand.

"Well?" Kimihito asked, hopeful but obviously expecting the worst.

"It was just voicemail," Kira said, standing up briefly to scan for danger before hunching back over. "She didn't give you a secondary contact?"

Kimihito scratched his shaggy black mane. "Uh, I don't think so. Maybe there's something in one of the pamphlets?"

Kira resisted the urge to drag a palm down his face. "Then we have to think of a way to keep you hidden until sunrise. Do you have any ideas?"

Kimihito rested his chin on his fingers for a moment, eyes closed and frowning, then met Kira's eyes. "I think I have a plan. We need to be fast, though, we don't have long."

Miia nursed her many bruises as she carefully slithered her way down the stairs, retreating from the still-raging conflict behind her. Every movement stung a little, speaking volumes of Centorea's martial prowess. It was fortunate, then, that two opponents proved to be too much to handle; had it not been for Papi's unexplained return after slipping out of the centaur's grasp she would still be stuck in an unwinnable battle, unable to gain even the slightest bit of ground.

Of course, Miia would not make the same mistake. Now it was her harpy housemate trapped up there, and she had no intention of going back to fight a bit more when both of her opponents had so kindly rendered each other non-issues. It was difficult to savour her small victory, though, when she considered her current state.

Pale skin had been peppered with purple-green bruises and even rent open in places, weeping thin red lines down her body. Her hair was desperately in need of another makeover, previously perfect silken ropes now tarnished, sticking out every which way. Even the lace outfit Mama had packed specially for her had been ruined, with some of the bows missing and a not-insubstantial number of tears running down it. She pinched a particularly torn part of it between her fingers like something unpleasant before letting it float gracelessly back down.

Stupid, stupid centaur. If she had an echidna's fangs she would have pumped that lumbering horse carcass with enough venom to drop a herd of zebras.

But it would all be fine, because now nothing could stand in the way of her and Darling's love. She could feel it in her very bones whenever she looked up at that glorious, resplendent sphere in the night sky. It was meant to be. They were meant to be!

The floorboards told her everything she needed to know. With her facial pit she could sense the hot footprints left behind on the cold wood, leading all the way into the dining room. Miia giggled.

"Hide all you want, but I'll always find you, Darling…"

With inhuman strength she threw open the door and darted inside with the speed of a natural-born predator. Her pupils wide pits in a sea of gold that drank in the moonlight and glowed like ravenous lamps, she raised up on her coils to finally trap…

…Nothing.

Miia let out a disappointed huff. "Hmph. Making things harder than they need to be… It's endearing, but only for so long."

She grinned, her fangs glinting. All was not lost, though. She still had warm tracks, which meant Darling was still close. Very close. Like a liquid she flowed across the floor, using her hands as support as she crawled close to the floor like a bloodhound. Heat never lied.

Miia was forced to stop when she came up against the counter. Climbing it, she was met with a powerful heat signature that dwarfed even human body heat. Sadly, though, this was no hidden Darling, but rather the kitchen kettle.

Miia's eyebrows quirked. Interesting. Had Darling prepared for this, having prior knowledge of a lamia's facial pit? To think of leading her astray, using her own specialised sense against her…

Miia sighed. "Is this what I've got to look forward to? I know the older girls back home didn't have to deal with this. But, then again…"

The lamia looked to sense another trail of heated, foot-shaped spots leading off into the living room, growing more intense as her face approached. She cracked a sultry, predatory grin while she wrapped a sharp-nailed hand around the doorknob.

"Working for it is kind of fun."

Miia threw open the door and was immediately met with a faceful of stinging yellow light. Her pupils immediately contracted in an attempt to protect the retinas, and when the smudges on her vision quickly cleared she was able to lay eyes on the object of her quest.

Kimihito met her gaze from the armchair he was draped across, his eyes heavy-lidded and lustful, nothing like the cornered animal she'd though he was. Of course, looks could be deceiving but there was an old tale that said hearts didn't lie, and in lamia culture it just so happened to be a little more literal. A certain rigidity tinged his posture. The lustful eyes only went as deep as the eyelids as trepidation clearly swum through the dark brown pools below. A vibrant tingling in the most animalistic part of her brain seemed to make him glow with hazy pink, almost as if she could see the heat radiating from his thundering circulatory system that revealed his true feelings. So much energy, so very much more abundant than normal. Miia ran her serpentine tongue across the smooth enamel of her fangs. Luxurious, warm, adrenaline-filled blood, coursing through a body just begging to be linked with hers…

Adorable of him, to put on such a convincing act even when so obviously nervous about something so harmless, so pure, as sealing their love. Surely this was proof that she was wanted, proof that she was loved! Deep down he certainly felt just the same as she did, after all! The drumming of his heart told her so! She wanted to teach it, and she wanted to learn from it. Together they'd finally explore the most sacred of bonds, the deepest of meanings, and every eager inch of each other...

"Darling," Miia hissed, her voice like steam escaping through a cracked pipe, "why have you stopped running? I'm almost disappointed~"

The young man swallowed before quickly re-donning a confident mask. "In the short time between here and the bedroom, Miia, I've been thinking. About you."

Miia raised an eyelid. "Just me?"

"Well, truth be told, I've been thinking about all of you girls-" he began, but wisely backtracked when he heard the low growl emanating from the lamia's throat. "Wait, listen to what I'm about to say!"

He inhaled before continuing, meeting her gaze with a steel that, though still tinged with apprehension, hadn't been present before but definitely was now. "You've only lived with me for a short while, but I feel like you're the closest person in my life right now. Through all of the talking and learning and living together, it's like we've bonded in a way that I never have with anyone else. I honestly can't imagine going back to a life without you."

"O-Oh?" Miia has to stop herself from blinking like an idiot at those words. Euphoria bubbled up inside her as she listened to his steady heartbeat. Right now, he was telling the absolute truth.

"That's right. At first I wasn't sure whether it was just because I was lonely recently, or because that's just how a bond between a liminal and a human feels. But I've been meeting so many new people recently and even gained two more liminal housemates, and none of them make me feel the way you do."

He reached outward and held her sharp-nailed hand in his own as her breathing deepened and words failed her. It was as if she was actually feeling her pupils dilate as she drank in that plain, shaggy-headed, utterly flawless visage she adored so very much.

"A-And that's why," he continued, "I think we should, um, stop these pointless games and finally make our relationship official! Right here, right now!"

The moon-addled brain of Miia could barely process the words it was finally hearing, had wanted to hear for so long, had dreamed of hearing every torturous night for weeks on end. What she always knew to be true in her heart of hearts had at last been confirmed by the only external source that mattered. No longer would she have to agonisingly second-guess her own feelings. No longer would she need to fret over possible rivals with attributes avian, equine or otherwise. Darling said he loved her! He loved her, he loved her, he loved her!

But even under the full moon, Miia somehow retained enough sense to know deep down that something wasn't quite right. She knew for a fact that her Darling wasn't much of a liar, and even if he was her currently-heightened senses could gaze into his very heart to discern any discrepancy. His current heart rate upon talking of relationships, unlike the nervous yet steady thrum of a minute ago, was somewhat devoid of the earlier honesty and fluttered like a hummingbird stuck in a cage with a viper. Like he was lying. Like he was setting a trap.

Alarm bells of higher thought finally pushed through the cacophony of love infecting her every brainwave and screamed at her to look, to sniff out, to examine the man before her and figure out just what clever pitfall he was hiding from her.

Perhaps if her mind wasn't so dominated by thoughts of Kimihito she would have noticed the second heat signature creeping out from behind the couch in time.

Before she could react, her whole body above the tail was thoroughly drenched in a massive cascade of liquid as though sent from the heavens by an angry god of storms. It easily passed through the silk nightgown like a fang through soft flesh and make total contact with the barely-covered skin beneath. Her red locks, so bouncy and full, became instantly plastered to her body and obscured her vision like a set of skintight blackout blinds.

Parting the now-laboriously heavy hair from her scalp, she looked to see none other than Mr Kira standing from where he must have been hiding behind the couch for goodness knew how long. In his hand was a pot that dripped with water. How long had he been there? No matter, an enemy way an enemy. She smirked, her pupils now surgically precise incisions down a gold surface.

"Ha! You think a pot of water- oh. Oh, no. You-"

She began crumpling to the floor, curling up in a tight ball. She forced open a heavy-lidded eye to look at a chunk of something very white, very cold and very rapidly melting on her palm.

"This isn't just water, it's… ice w-water?!"

"Sorry, Miia, but it had to be done."

Her gold iris slid up to look at Darling, standing over her with a towel and an apologetic expression. He draped the towel over her like a blanket and started to mop up the stingingly frigid droplets.

The dark-haired young man laughed awkwardly. "It's a good think Mr Kira was here, I probably wouldn't have been able to trick you on my own."

"I-t's imp-possible… how… d-didn't I s-sense… his h-h-heat signature sooner?" she slurred, forcing herself to look at the salaryman. He simply met her gaze evenly.

"B-but... Darling... you s-s-said..." She made one last effort to push herself back up before the cold finally took her and she collapsed, comatose.

And with that, the room was quiet.

The two men stared for a moment, then turned to each other. "Heat signature?" Kira inquired. His neighbour just shrugged.

"I've heard of snakes that can sense body heat from other animals. I guess it makes sense for lamias have that too."

Kimihito exhaled. "I just hope this doesn't come back to haunt me. Me tricking her like that can't have been easy for her, even if I know it was for the right reason. I know how she feels about me."

The taller man settled a rare hand on his neighbour's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself, Kimihito. As you said, it had to be done. She was out of control."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." The young man let out a long and weary sigh, then shook his head quickly and stepped behind the couch to pick up a pair of hot water bottles in one hand and a pile of bath towels in the other. "Well, onto stage two of the plan, I guess. Let's get her dried off and warmed up."

As they set about the arduous process of full-body drying a comatose half-snake woman, Kimihito turned to Kira. "Remember, Mr Kira," he said, "we need to dry her off quickly and perfectly. If we leave her even a little wet her body heat will be sapped and she might get seriously injured, even get sent to the hospital."

"Hopefully to the morgue," muttered the blond under his breath.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything."

-To be continued in chapter 15: Consequences-

Fun fact, this chapter has been sitting almost finished at ~8000 words for the better part of seven months. I realise that this enormous gap between updates is hardly ideal, but rest assured, I will do my best not to abandon this story. I know exactly what happens and how it ends.

By the way, if anyone's looking for a touching story then they should try out Koe no Kitachi, or A Silent Voice in English. It's a wonderful comic about a deaf girl's journey through her middle and high school years and an excellent read. Another one I've read is She Doesn't Know Why She Lives, a cute little story about a girl with depression pondering her own life. As for other fanfictions try Traitor's Face, an Avatar: The Last Airbender story that was recently completed at a grand total of 83 chapters. Finally, I'd like to recommend the The Kin book series by Peter Dickinson. It's a series of four books about ancient humans that I loved as a child and have recently rediscovered after clearing out a drawer. Oh, and Merry Christmas!