A/N: I'm a sucker for certain silly tropes and the 'sneezing because someone is talking about you' trope is a favorite so endure it for me, please. I think it's cute. Some important notes on translations, Amon's mother tongue is based heavily (almost completely with some variation) on Irish Gaelic.

An gabh thu tuilleadh (pronounced On govh two tyew-lid), Means Will you have some more?

Slainte (Slawn-cheh) is cheers.

Also huge shoutout to roseeyes for helping me edit this chapter and her endless encouragement. This beast took forever to get through but I'm actually pretty satisfied with the overall outcome.

Amon's fingers brushed over her throat as she lay under a moth-eaten comforter, staring at the dark ceiling. Without the lamps on her room was a void, no windows to offer whispers of light to ease back the pitch black, no noises down here in the abandoned dungeon to remind her that a busy household existed above. That didn't bother her, she was home. Despite eyes crafted by nature for such environments, she struggled to see through the dim, bereft corners of the space.

Not that she was trying very hard.

Swallowing, she recalled the sensation of a calloused palm pressing against her trachea, and of fingers pressing into the flesh of her neck. Warmth had spread through the touch, a surge of heat she hadn't felt in a lifetime, and now she couldn't seem to cool down. Her body refused to forget, clutching onto the memory as though she might never get another like it. Closing her eyes, she rolled over and shoved her head under one of her two pillows.

Unfortunately, it didn't block the images like she'd hoped.

With a grumble she sagged against her mattress, longing for sleep she knew wouldn't come given her tumultuous thoughts. Her tongue slid over her bottom lip and the memory of the king's blood, reminiscent of a spiced wine, flooded her mouth. Oh, but the taste alone hadn't entranced her. The look in his eyes when he teased her so blatantly scorched her fraying self-control. She grabbed the pillow's edges so she could pull it firmly down over her head to mute the frustrated whine she couldn't contain.

What a terrible thing to feel, this attraction. It would kill her, destroy her: tear down her walls and leave her in ruins.

She couldn't indulge such fanciful ideas. She couldn't lay there imagining what those hands might feel like on other parts of her body: her waist, her thighs, her breasts... She couldn't conjure up the relentless image of those cinnabar eyes that demanded attention, demanded everything. No. She couldn't.

She couldn't.

And yet…

With a sigh, Amon twisted around onto her back, bringing her fingers to her mouth to trace her lips, her teeth. Following the pattern the king had laid. The pads of her fingertips were rough as well, not nearly as much as his but she'd been in service for too long to not bear such marks.

She allowed her fingers to drift down her chin, glancing off her jaw until they brushed over her throat once again. Lids partially shuttered, she wondered what the king might've done if she'd tugged at his shirt, dragging him down to her level. Would he have scowled? Pushed her away in contempt? Or would he have fallen into her mouth as she desperately wished he would? She could imagine what that might feel like, the king's tongue between her lips, his hands taking claim of the rest of her, not just her throat and teeth.

What would that feel like?

Her hand brushed over her breast as she considered the thought, entertaining it against her better judgment.

What did he feel like?

Lips parting she let herself succumb to the damning thoughts, fingers finding a far more useful home as her left hand took up caressing her throat. Calloused palms, crimson eyes, and a body hardened from battle. Her king using his touch to torment her with the practice and intention he showed in all things.

Her king…

"Mm. Not the king." She whispered to herself, half-gone to her runaway thoughts. "Hiei. Hiei. Hiei."

A sneeze forced Hiei to sit up in bed, wrinkling his nose in at the sudden outburst.

Where the hell had that come from?

"What's wrong with me?" He demanded of himself, covering his face with his hand as he bent over his drawn up knees.

There was no reason to even pretend he'd been trying to sleep because all he'd managed to do was get lost in his thoughts. Pulling his hand from his face, he stared at his palm then curled his fingers into it. These hands were desperately trying to get him in trouble.

At least he wasn't thinking about Mukuro. He wasn't awakening from nightmares of his failures, his weakness in cold sweats, desperate to find comfort anywhere he could. Nor was he stuck reliving fonder memories with wasted sentimentality.

No.

This was a different kind of agony. One utterly foreign to him.

He shouldn't have left himself alone with Amon. Keeping her within reach had become so easy, so dangerous-he didn't have the power or resolve to stop himself from closing the distance. He'd almost kissed her. What a foolish thing to even attempt. A hopeless desire with no legs to stand on.

He remembered the way she craned her head back, offering him that vulnerable part of her she protected from the rest of the world. The contours of her throat came to him in vivid, painful detail and on it's heels the shape of her mouth, the lines of her teeth, the way her lashes framed those disastrously blue eyes.

Worst of all he recalled the hunger on her face.

"I'm a fool." Hiei declared to himself, angry about not being strong enough to will the warmth in his stomach to fade. "The king of all fools."

Amon was utterly devoted to him. Tending to him in ways no one else ever had. Making sure he dressed well. Putting food on his plate with care to what he enjoyed. Spending hours talking with him, or listening to him as he worked through his morose moods. She put herself into harm's way without thinking, without hesitation to protect him. Him, of all the people in the room. He could have handled the assassins.

Yet, once she was in motion, he couldn't bring himself to interrupt.

"She's a fool too." He decided, loosening his fist to run his fingers through his hair. "But I still outrank her, even in this. What an idiotic place I've found myself in."

The way she'd looked at him, stopping time itself with her stare. Her blue eyes looked more alive than he'd ever seen them, blood smeared over her face. The vision of her struck him in the stomach and between the ribs, it burned a hole in his brain. This was the last thing he needed- an obsession with no resolution.

He needed to kill something.

Hiei threw the blanket off and stalked to the wardrobe, yanking out his worn black training pants, his worst tank top. He tied the pants closed with a single white belt and stomped to his sword, sweeping it off the table with ease.

Training would help him focus.

Training would distract him.

Training would clear his head.

If he believed it hard enough, maybe training would cure him of this cursed affliction, this haunting affection.

He was halfway to the caverns beneath the castle when he stopped, considering his situation. He could go through the trouble of a one-sided battle against a horde of the mass-created mannequins which couldn't think, couldn't strategize, only attack. They were nothing but outlets for his emotions, vessels born to be destroyed as violently as he desired.

Or he could have an actual, no-holds-barred fight with someone not afraid to win. Someone who could last under his strength. Someone with at least a little bit of working grey matter between their ears.

"Wake up." Hiei grabbed Yusuke's blanket and ripped it off the man who up until then had been sleeping soundly, snores threatening to rattle the window panes. How did Keiko stand it? Hiei would have smothered the former detective with his own pillow a long time ago.

"What the fuck?" Yusuke flailed, falling off the side of the bed and shoulders landing roughly on the carpet below, legs still atop the mattress. "Hiei?"

"Good, you're awake." Hiei threw a shirt at him. "Get dressed."

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

"I'm reaching out." Hiei snarked, a smirk twisted his lips, eyes glittering as they narrowed. "Unless you're no longer interested in helping me out, friend."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine with helping." Yusuke yawned, not bothering to cover it as he stretched. "Why am I getting dressed? What do you need me to do?"

"Beat the shit out of me."

Yusuke paused a beat after tugging his shirt over his head. After a second he blinked up at the demon standing over him. Then, pulling the garment back off and tossing the wad of fabric onto the bed he offered a devilish grin.

"Ask no more, pal."

"Uh, Amon?"

Amon groaned, swatting at the hand that gently shook her shoulder. "Benji please, it's too early for whatever this is."

"It's late morning." Benji's quiet response earned a sleepy but impressed stare from her. "I tried to wake you up before but you didn't budge so Marielle said to let you sleep a little more, but then I got distracted with chores and I came back too late."

"Late morning?" Amon sat up slowly, rubbing her face to brush the sleep out of her eyes and out of her eyes and head. The lamps were on and she assumed Benji was the culprit. He didn't care for the dark. "How late?"

"Around ten." He answered, still sitting on her bed with all the comfort of a child who didn't quite grasp boundaries. His eyes swept around her room as though it might have changed his last visit.

Her eyes widened and she froze, processing the news. In a rush she scrambled from the bed, darting to her clothes hanging on the rack she'd formed from stray pipes, just so she could throw together an outfit other than a suit.

"You let me sleep until ten?!" She demanded, stressed. "I can't believe I'm so late waking up! There's so much to do. The king's breakfast is going to be considerably-"

"He didn't want food." Benji assured her quickly. "He's been in-"

A shocking burst of energy rocked through the castle. Amon stumbled from the rack, going still in its wake. Without a doubt that steady, strong flash belonged to Hiei. Her eyebrows fell as a second wave lashed out, just as strong but different in that it felt brighter. Her eyes moved to Benji who ducked down into the crooked collar of his shirt.

"He's been in the caverns since early morning. Training." Benji finished.

"Go to the kitchen, get a tray of food ready and a few glasses of water. I'll be there soon." Amon urged him, selecting her pants, socks and shoes for the day before choosing a shirt she had not yet worn. Just as he opened the door she tacked on, "Make sure there is a selection of meat as well, Benji. It's the king's request."

"Yes ma'am!"

Amon strode through the halls on quick feet, hurried but trying to appear calm. She couldn't believe she was running late. Of all the weeks, of all the mistakes... after all her complaining that the schedule had to be strictly adhered to, the emphasis on promptness and proper etiquette. She'd barely given herself a passing glance after getting dressed-there was no time to fine tune her outfit. Five hours behind from the outset, she needed to get her day started.

The kitchen was fairly quiet, caught between meals when she swept in, tugging at her shirt.

Everyone stopped to stare at her and she frowned in raising a hand. "I know, I know. I'm late."

"You look different." Benji told her, head tilted. "Did you hit a growth spurt?"

Amon shot him a look that immediately told him the question was absurd. He ducked his head which only drew her attention to his collar again. She fussed over it, laying it flat with pursed lips.

"Is that a new shirt?" Marielle wondered, eyes dipping down to Amon's chest then back up with some curiosity and a knowing look.

"Hmm? Yes, it is. I'll have to take it back to the seamstress, it's too small. It's a shame, I liked the cut originally." Amon examined the tray they'd arranged for her to take. "Thank you all. I'll be back in a little while but I'm certain you already know what needs to be done."

After she left the kitchen one of the cooks glanced at Marielle, who chewed on her bottom lip, caught between humor and concern. "Do you think she realizes?"

"No, I don't." Marielle admitted quietly, giggling. "She's already in a flurry, I didn't want to tell her."

"King'll be pleased at least." The cook joked.

"Why?" Benji asked, looking between them.

"You'll understand when you're older kid. Why don't you go check on the second floor and make sure they've cleaned it properly?" The cook nodded to the door and Benji sulked out of the room.

Amon shifted her shirt before entering the caverns, trying to readjust the seams to fit where they were meant to. She didn't understand, she'd had the clothes tailored, how did this one not fit her? Had she gained too much weight? It had only been a few days of the king making her eat with him again.

The thought of eating with the king brought to mind the night before and with that came the memory of his touch. Her mind desperately trying to recreate the sensation through her own hands followed quickly. The tray tipped dangerously in her distraction before she righted it, pushing the thoughts down and away. There was no time for such frivolous daydreams, she was on duty.

Without bothering to fuss further she swept into the training area and started down the stairs gripping the tray firmly, her gloves warm against her skin. She'd opted for shorter leather gloves today, which covered only her fingers, crossing the backs of her hands once before ending at the wrists where they tied closed. Her unadorned black leather collar clasped shut with a buckle that rested against her nape.

Dark crimson pants tucked into laced boots, the knife the king had given her strapped to her thigh as he ordered. Her tattoos glared at the stone walls, a lone sleeve gripping her other arm. The blouse pulled at her chest, pressed at her clavicle. There was no strap for the other shoulder. Instead the shirt rounded under her arm, allowing her shoulder tattoo to be clearly displayed. Boning forced the shirt to shape around her ribs, keeping it firmly in place under her chest. The fitted middle was a creamy white, the breast and sleeve matched her pants perfectly. She'd twisted her hair up using a kanzashi as a temporary measure in her haste. She hoped to return to her room at some point to plait the strands into something a little more tamed.

The king fought shirtless, chest heaving as sweat dripped off his chin. Damp hair stuck to his neck and rested against his forehead, framing his open third eye. There were holes in his pants and scuffs on his skin, as well as a few bleeding cuts.

For a moment she was too struck by the sight of him to remember to continue with her job. The muscles of his bare back and chest captivated her, eliciting the horrid desire to trace their movements with her hands. Subtly she shook herself.

She looked for any sign of serious injury but only found fatigue, as well as a sense of delight foreign to the king she knew. He kept his attention solely on Mr. Urameshi, who grinned like an imp, proud of the trouble he was causing. He too was shirtless, sweating and bruised. There was a smear of blood on his cheek originating from his nose.

The king had a similar stain on his chin, the corner of his mouth.

They both bore swollen cheeks and bruised arms, scrapes splotching their skin in angry lines of raw red.

She sucked in a breath as the king's energy broiled around him, a cackle leaving his chest as he covered his fists in fire and launched at his friend who laughed in return and met him head on. There was no hesitation in Mr. Urameshi's advance, no fear of the flames or what they might do to him.

Amon wondered if that was a foolishness of youth, or if perhaps he'd never been burned before. The sight of the flames sent a chill through her. A scar on her left arm itched just thinking about the pain such a powerful heat would bring.

Instead of interrupting she moved to the wayside table that had been brought down here for this purpose, setting the tray down before filling each glass with ice water. She moved the towels she'd draped over her arms to her shoulder so she could better arrange the food.

"Spirit gun!" The cry came before a ball of blue light fired, the energy it carried immense. The sheer mass of it created a small vacuum, air and debris pulled toward Mr. Urameshi before he fired. Pale turquoise light blinded in the usually dim cavern, so much so that Amon had to squint to protect her eyes.

Amon held her breath, frozen, as she watched the king roll away from the attack. He looked down looking at his arm where the ball had singed his skin. Then he struck out with his sword, so close that the other man had to skitter back to avoid being impaled while she berated herself for not being able to move.

If that had been anyone else fighting with the king, she would have just watched him die.

The amount of energy they were expending was incredible. She'd have been long unconscious if she was in either of their shoes, curled up to sleep for at least a day. Looking the two men over they appeared only slightly winded as if just in from a jog.

She wet her lips and came to terms with the fact that the king pulled punches with her, something she should be thankful for: She was no match for him.

The truth was not a balm to her wounded pride.

Suddenly, Hiei looked her way, as if just noticing they weren't alone. He offered her the barest tilt of his head, studying her for too long. The distraction cost him a punch to the ear, sending him down to one knee with a snarl and a curse.

"Ha! what's got you so distra-" Yusuke teased, hands on his hips before also glancing at Amon. Before he could finish the sentence Hiei's fist bit into his stomach, a gruesome gut punch that stole his breath and set him on his rear, groaning as he gripped his middle.

"Are you alright?" Amon asked them both as she walked over, concern coloring the question. Hiei didn't respond and the other man remained curled on the ground in his pain. "Mr. Urameshi, can you stand?"

"Leave him in the dirt." Hiei told her with a huff, accepting the towel she extended. "It's his fault for leaving himself open."

Once again his eyes swept over her and she noticed them pinch at the corners before focusing steadily on her face. Mr. Urameshi slowly regained his breathing on the ground, managing to sit up.

"New look today?" Brown eyes gleamed with the teasing remark, one which Amon didn't understand.

Hiei seemed to because as soon as the words left Mr. Uremeshi's mouth, the sole of his dirty boot struck his cheek, shoving him harshly back down into the gritty red dirt.

"Is my shirt that interesting? A few others have commented on it as well." Amon turned to the king, perplexed. "I didn't think it was that unusual. I realize it's outside my usual style."

"The shirt is fine." Hiei assured her, determined to not let his eyes move from her face. He opened his mouth and closed it, eyes squinting before glancing at the all, gathering his thoughts.

"I brought food, Benji said you hadn't eaten." Amon looked down at the recovering figure of Mr. Urameshi before raising her attention to her king. "If you've been training all this time, you need to refuel." She offered him a smile that he did not return. "Are you alright sir?"

"Mhmm." Hiei marched around her with purpose, making his way to the tray of food. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. I ran a little late this morning. I overslept."

"That's not like you, are you ill?" Hiei looked at her then quickly away, as if he couldn't look at her for more than a few seconds at a time. His focus centered on her face with each glance, his eyes averting when they threatened to dip lower. Once again Mr. Urameshi recovered himself, this time rising to his feet with a snicker. Crimson eyes darted over to him, a scathing glare and a silent warning in the expression. "Yusuke put some food in your mouth before I have to break your teeth."

"Of course, sir." Yusuke pretended to curtsy then helped himself to a hand fruit. "I'm digging your vibe today, Amon."

Her eyes moved from the king and his sudden, palpable irritation to the other man repeating the action a few times before she finally settled on their guest. A growled warning from Hiei was veiled behind the other's name. "Yusuke."

"Thank you, but the shirt is too small. I thought I'd had it properly tailored but it turns out I'm mistaken." Amon sighed, looking down for the first time that morning only to immediately gasp, feeling heat flush her face.

"You okay?" Yusuke asked her, brows knit. "You're all red."

Embarrassment dyed her cheeks scarlet and she swallowed, trying and failing to cross both arms casually over her chest.

Her decidedly unbound chest.

Mentally, she berated herself for forgetting to wrap the area as she normally would. No wonder the shirt didn't feel right, she always flattened herself out, to a certain extent. She'd gained weight from all of the king doting on her, forcing her to eat regularly, and it showed. After nearly a century and a half of not having to deal with breasts, she didn't know what to do about them anymore, other than keep them contained.

"Mhmm." Amon nodded, dragging her bottom lip into her mouth. "Perfectly fine, thank you."

"They suit you. I mean, the style suits you. The shirt style and the way it fits." Hiei admitted fumbling before committing to the statement. He finally allowed himself to look at her though he pretended the action was effortless, natural. "It's flattering."

"You're making fun of me." Amon spoke under her breath, eyes refusing to meet his.

"No, he's right. You've looked hot since I got here and you look even better today. The hair stick really pulls it together for me." Yusuke offered after choking down a mouthful of food. He cleared his throat then tossed her a grin. "There's nothing wrong with being attractive."

Hiei glared at Yusuke for all he was worth. "Aren't you married?"

"Extremely." Yusuke held up his left hand to show off the plain silver band of his ring. "And my wife is a goddess. Can't get enough of her. She ages like a fine wine, I have to tell you. That doesn't mean I can't notice when a woman has put effort into her appearance to look nice. You could learn something from me, hot stuff."

"Careful Yusuke, wandering eyes risk getting plucked out." Hiei warned darkly. "I've met your woman. I know what she's like."

"Yeah, my Keiko is a real spitfire." He laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "She keeps me in line."

"That's nice." Amon studied him, her posture relaxing as she took in his warm smile and the pride on his face.

"What is?" Yusuke blinked at her.

"I don't get to see people so deeply in love very often." She told him softly, warmly. Hiei glanced at her, face caught between shock and confusion, though she was too focused on Yusuke to notice. "She must care for you dearly. You talk about her like she's the only thing that matters."

"She is." He shrugged, as if it was obvious.

"She's lucky you feel that way." Amon wet her lips and then shook her head, moving her attention to the food. "Help yourselves. Unfortunately due to my late start I'm behind on some things."

Hiei grabbed her elbow before she could scamper off. "You're forgetting something, Amon."

When she opened her mouth to protest he simply stared at her until she relented, nodded and made herself a sandwich out of the meat cuts and a bit of bread. Biting it she chewed quickly, gesturing as though that should make him happy.

"Finish it." He demanded but nodded to the stairs. "And be prepared to have a heartier lunch, assuming you don't sleep through that too."

"Of course. I will not forget." She nodded, sandwich in hand before making her way out of the caverns. He watched her ascend the stairs and then immediately let out a breath.

"You've got it bad, Hiei." Yusuke accused with a wink. "You got so distracted by her, I knocked you on your ass. That never happens to you."

"The whole point of this exercise was to clear my head." Hiei complained. "And then-" He gestured loosely to the door, running a hand through his hair. "Something is wrong with me."

"You're a guy." Yusuke told him with humor, taking a bite from a sandwich he'd made for himself.

"I'm a king." Hiei argued quietly, staring at the door. "I don't have the liberty of just being 'a guy' anymore."

Yusuke chewed his food quietly, considering. A plan slowly took form; a way to help him out. Hiei obviously had feelings for Amon: he wasn't exactly discreet about how he looked at her; or talked about her. Or anything else about the red headed woman.

Yet, in order for this plan to work, he'd need some help getting things moving.

"I think we'll go drinking tonight." He announced casually, earning a raised eyebrow from his friend but little else. "How's nine work for you?"

"No thank you." Amon shifted around Yusuke where he tried to block her way out of the kitchen, tray balanced easily on her palm.

"What do you mean?" Yusuke followed on her heels, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It's fairly obvious, isn't it?" She asked him, then paused in the hall to assess a maid who had flagged her down and held up two sets of sheets. "The cream. The grey is too dark for the room, thank you." She picked up her pace, continuing on her path. Someone else gestured to her and she merely nodded her approval. "Mr. Urameshi, while I'm truly flattered by your invitation you must see that I'm desperately busy. I've been falling behind on my work as it is-I do not have time to socialize."

"I thought you were Hiei's special attendant or whatever."

"I am the king's personal attendant." She glanced back, looking him over. "I'm afraid I don't understand how the two are coordinated."

"It's simple, isn't it?" He tipped his head to the side and offered her a cheeky smile. "You said we should call on you if we needed anything. And then you told Hiei that we were your guests since he doesn't want us around."

"That was before he obviously welcomed you."

"Alright, look. I'll level with ya." Yusuke rubbed the back of his neck while bashfully avoiding looking her way. "The truth is, we just want to get to know you. You take care of our friend and it'd be nice to know what kind of person you are."

"I'm not a person."

Yusuke lowered his hand, groaning. "You know what I meant."

"I did." She nodded, offering him a scant smile. "I can relate to wanting to know about those who are near the ones you care for. However, I must again decline. Even if it were true that you were my guests and not the king's, the fact would remain that I need to be available to him. But that's not the case. You're his personal friends and I shouldn't be associating with you without his express permission."

"Is that Hiei's rule or yours?" Yusuke studied her with interest.

"It's the rule of decency, Mr. Urameshi." She sighed, keeping herself tall and her expression neutral despite her mounting frustration.

He stopped her just outside the door to Hiei's office, having followed her up two flights of stairs and down too many stupid halls for his liking. "Don't you want to get to know us? And maybe a little more about Hiei? I know he doesn't talk about himself much; he never has."

That caused her to hesitate, her hand falling rather than grasping the door handle to let herself in. She stared at the wood for a long second, biting her lip.

"I shouldn't. The king is a private man; I do not need to know his past to serve him." She still didn't reach for the handle.

"A little bit of alcohol and he'll probably tell you all about himself." Yusuke lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper with a smile. "He could tell you the whole long tale of it, you know. If you were there when he was in the mood. We know his buttons, Amon. We know how to get him talking. We can convince him. All you have to do is show up, enjoy the company and let us get to know you in return."

"I'm afraid I make a poor dinner guest. I'm not very interesting." She admitted softly, shooting him another glance. "I don't have anything to offer to make this worth your efforts. You and the king should meet and enjoy each other's company. It would make me happy to see him smile like that again."

"No one's asking you to be interesting, Amon. We're just asking you to be honest with us." He assured her, grabbing the door handle for her before pushing it open. "Meet us at eight."

"I didn't agree." She hissed as he started to walk off, but Hiei called her from inside the room and she couldn't raise her voice any higher without risking his suspicion. Instead she steeled herself and waltzed into the room with a smile, brandishing his dinner with a flourish. "Sire, sorry I'm a few minutes late. It seems to be my fate today."

Amon entered the bar with her head down, doing her best to avoid bringing too much attention to herself. In hindsight, she should have worn a coat or changed her clothes to cover her tattoos. The day had been hectic, preventing her from changing into a more conservative outfit, binding her chest, or plaiting her hair.

A veritable sea of patrons crowded the space, pressing to tables, the walls, the very corners of the establishment. The interior was several degrees warmer than outside had been, hot bodies confined in such a tight space with no outlet for the heat they created. A mix of pungent odors mingled with the scent of food, clouding the air with a heady, suffocating perfume. She'd never even been in this establishment before as she generally avoided leaving the castle grounds too often. The world was larger than she remembered it being as a child, though now what once thrilled her threatened to overwhelm with choking intensity. Gloved fingers pressed to the leather collar circling her throat, adjusting it to sit more comfortably as she breathed.

Coming here was a mistake-a terrible idea. So many voices, all distinct and overpowering, carrying their own conversations she wasn't able to tune out. She flinched as a man yelled to a waitress, demanding another drink. The urge to move to get it for him gnawed at her but she kept still, curling her fingers to her palms. Flushed from the heat, her pulse raced under her skin, the steady beat quickening as she swallowed.

Scanning her surroundings to spot either trouble or her designated companions for the evening, Amon took stock of the bar itself. When she'd been younger most everywhere had a tavern of some sort, rustic places with rough hewn tables and chairs with legs that were never even heights. She'd spent her youth in grubby, dimly lit places where booze was cheap but plentiful and one could always count on a fight. This was different. The lights, though soft, were not hazy. They were intentional. The tables were lacquered, peeking from underneath draped cloth coverings. The seats were backed and none seemed to wobble. It was streamlined, and nearly sophisticated if it weren't for the clientele.

Mr. Urameshi had put her in a scandalous position. If she accepted his offer she risked the king's ire and it reeked of impropriety. However, if she declined him she would be seen as a poor hostess, disrespectful of a guest's personal request.

His bait in enticing her didn't help.

The king didn't speak of himself often, and when he did it was almost always linked to his current circumstances. The idea that she could learn about him when he was younger, the smallest chance of information, overruled the ingrained fear of being punished. She imagined he'd been rather impish and unruly as a child. Perhaps a little too powerful for his own good, desperately in need of someone to stamp down his haughty pride. Imagining it lit amusement in her.

When she'd begun her work at the castle everyone had warned her of his temper, his rage, his bitterness and attitude.

Were they remembering a past version of her king? One she had never actually met? Would this meeting provide her any actual answers or would it fuel her curiosity without sating it?

Had she made the right choice by coming here instead of seeking answers from the man himself? His compatriots had been friendly enough. Relatively unimposing. Still, previous experience nagged at her, warning that these men might be dangerous. They could mean her ill will: It wouldn't be the first time a master's friends had absconded with her for their own reasons. It could be a trap.

The king had admitted that Mr. Kurama was skeptical of her from the beginning. She'd confirmed his strong intuition and quick mind for herself when he'd so easily identified her shadow walking technique.

She'd personally witnessed Mr. Urameshi's power.

Any fight she put up would be an act of futility meant to appease her own selfish rule raised from the ashes of her slavehood: die fighting or not at all.

Amon steadied herself with the knowledge that these were the king's friends. He trusted them. If Hiei hadn't outright forbidden her from being alone with any of the men for her safety-and surely he would have if he'd felt the need-it should mean they were safe enough to be around.

"Yo, Amon!" Yusuke stood up and waved his arm over his head. She shrank further into her shoulders, grimacing as a few sets of eyes turned toward her. "Over here!"

"Please don't be so loud." She begged him as she arrived at the table where he sat with the other two men, even as Mr. Kuwabara leaned over the empty chair separating them to pull Mr. Urameshi's arm down with a hissed whisper.

"You're embarrassing her." The orange haired man warned from between his teeth. He lightened his expression to a smile when he greeted Amon. "Hi, Amon!"

"No one cares." Mr. Urameshi ignored his friend to grin at her with a wink. In a thoughtless movement he elbowed the other man lightly, earning the freedom of his arm.

"Rude as always." Mr. Kuwabara scolded with a scowl. He turned his attention to Amon and offered her an open smile, radiating a calm confidence. "I'm sorry he's an ass."

She pressed her lips together and remained standing at Mr. Urameshi's elbow looking over the table. They'd already ordered their drinks and a platter of fried foods-already half gone-and mixed vegetables that looked untouched. A dark bottle of liquid rested in the center, in easy reach for all arms. The white, water stained label bore a handwritten name. Wrinkling her nose at the selection she avoided commenting on it. She didn't particularly care for the vegetable they avoided but it wasn't for her so it didn't matter.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Kurama asked her, confusion pulling his brow, setting in the lines of his mouth.

Amon inhaled sharply, eyes widening. She glanced at Mr. Urameshi then exhaled with apprehension, shoulders rolling forward as her head bowed. "I apologize, I thought I was invited. If I misunderstood I can leave."

Green eyes flitted to Yusuke, a brow arching in question. The other man shrugged in response as though he had no idea what was going on. Amon remained on the outskirts of the exchange, prepared to flee if it turned out she'd intruded on their gathering.

"Let me clarify: why are you just standing there?" Mr. Kurama gestured to the seat between Mr. Urameshi and Mr. Kuwabara. He smiled, a warm confirmation of the invitation. "Join us."

"Ah. Yes, of course. Sit." She nodded and lowered herself cautiously in the chair, back straight but her head still bowed as much as decency allowed. Her palms came to rest on the table, gloved hands in clear view of anyone who needed to see them. "It would've been impudent of me to assume to sit with you without an invitation. We're not of equal rank, you see. In all honesty I shouldn't have come here. I should go. This was a selfish mistake."

She tried to rise from her seat before a hand on her shoulder pulled her back down.

"Fuck's sake, will you just relax for five minutes?" Mr. Urameshi leaned back in his seat, stretching. "This isn't a castle, Amon, and we don't outrank you. We're all equals here."

Mr. Kurama's attention seemed stolen by her hands, his head tipping a hair to the side as he squinted at her fingers. His lingering attention had her wondering if he could tell what she was hiding under the leather. When he lifted those veridian eyes to hers, he flicked his gaze back down once as if to ask, without uttering a word, what she was doing.

Amon slowly pulled her hands from the tabletop and allowed them to rest on her lap for an uncomfortable beat before she decided she needed something to do with her fingers to prevent fidgeting. She rubbed her forefinger against her thumb, a compulsion she tried to keep hidden.

"That's not true." She kept her voice quiet, hoping it wouldn't betray her. Blue eyes scanned the area for something to do that wouldn't distract the others. Arranging silverware properly, clearing a table, anything to keep her hands busy. "Your very existence puts you above me."

Brown eyes shot to green then to another set of brown, lighter than his own. Mr. Urameshi cleared his throat.

"Suit yourself." Mr. Urameshi flagged down a waitress and asked for a glass of water for the redhead. While the woman was there, giving Amon a puzzled stare, he turned back to her. "You hungry? Don't tell me you don't eat."

"I wouldn't know what to order." She smiled professionally and then shook her head to the waitress. "Don't trouble yourself, thank you. The water is all I need."

"Do you guys have like a sample platter or something? You've got to have something she'll eat. Just bring out random stuff until she finds something she likes, okay? Thanks." Yusuke tipped his chair onto it's back legs, hand waving, loosely gesturing to the woman in their party.

"Oh, Mr. Urameshi, please don't. It's fine. I've already eaten dinner anyway, so there's no need." She tried to dissuade him, delicately but earnestly fluttering her hands.

"Just bring the food out as it's ready. Put it all on my tab." He continued to speak. A glinting, mischievous eye turned to Amon. "You got any allergies or anything? Foods you just won't eat?"

"The water is fine." Amon tried to take control of the ordering instead of bothering reasoning with the half-demon. She implored the waitress to heed her with her soft expression and friendly, professional smile. Very lightly, she touched the woman's arm to keep her from writing the order. "Thank you. You don't need to trouble yourself-"

"She's not paying so she doesn't get to make the choices." Mr. Urameshi brushed Amon's hand away easily, pushing it back toward her lap. "But I am paying, so y'know, make the food."

Amon stiffened at the declaration, pulling her shoulders back as one of her brows threatened to creep upwards. He was definitely the king's friend, if his attitude were any indication. Still, he wasn't the king himself so his orders meant little more than propriety to her. "That is not necessary."

"Too late." He brushed her off with a grin that showed his teeth and crinkled around his eyes. "You're one of those types that doesn't like to be fussed over huh?"

Amon wrinkled her nose slightly, caught between thanking him for his hospitality and snapping at him for speaking over her repeatedly and then touching her so dismissively. Those brown eyes twinkled and without a doubt she was assured he knew what he was doing. Just like a child he was doing everything in his power to get a rise out of her. And just as with the king, it was working.

"It's alright." Mr. Kurama told her gently. "We'll likely be here for a while, so there's no harm in having food to spare. As someone who cares for others surely you agree it's better to be over prepared than under."

She squinted but didn't argue further, instead giving in with a single nod as silence enveloped her. The fox appeared genuine yet she had her reservations. He was difficult to read, something she detested. Her arms crossed over her chest as she sulked in her chair, studying the pattern on the tablecloth. This was strange, even awkward. She didn't know these men, but they were being so kind to her. For the first time in years she didn't know how to act or what to do with her hands. Every instinct demanded she go into the kitchen herself to prepare their food.

"Wow, you're super stressed huh?" Mr. Kuwabara asked her suddenly, putting his glass down without taking a sip, his gaze never leaving her. "Like, really stressed out. You okay?"

"Pardon?"

"Oh, yeah, the big guy is sort of psychic. He's pretty good at picking up on emotions and when danger is nearby. Isn't that right, Kuwabara?" Mr. Urameshi grabbed his drink and took a gulp. "When we were kids he used to call it The Tickle Feeling. He was like a walking ghost detector. Real helpful sometimes. Too bad he couldn't fight for shit."

"I saved your ass more than once." Mr. Kuwabara snorted. "If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even have made it out of Maze Castle, you know. I saved your life."

"You shoulda seen this big idiot getting the shivers whenever something remotely dead came near him. Hell, until Genkai got a hold of him he could barely tell the difference between say, his dead friend and a fucking haunted raccoon." Mr. Urameshi laughed then wiggled his pinky where Amon could see it. "Don't even get me fucking started on his 'red string of fate' bullshit. Kid really fell head over heels for anything with eyelashes and a pulse."

"Oh, I'm going to kick your ass for all the times I couldn't when we were younger." Mr. Kuwabara slammed his hands down on the table, shaking the drinks as his face glowed in his embarrassment.

Amon adjusted a few of the coasters and cups to prevent anything from spilling during another outburst as Mr. Urameshi tipped back in his chair with a knowing groan which made Mr. Kurama chuckle into his closed fist.

As conversation blossomed between the three of them Amon felt herself soften while she observed their antics. Warm insults thrown about the casual way only friends can manage. Her shoulders relaxed as Mr. Urameshi recounted a memory of victory that made the other the human bluster. Mr. Kurama maintained his role of peacekeeper though he lacked dedication, loosely, only speaking up to warn them to keep their voices down lest they be kicked out. It had been a while since she'd last seen a group so openly affectionate toward one another. They seemed happily oblivious to the potential consequences of their display.

The strong must not feel the need to hide their love for each other.

She envied them.

"So," Mr. Kurama broke through the banter to address her, "how did you meet Hiei?"

"He," Amon paused to gather her words circling the top of her water glass with a finger, summoning the right words, "he saved me. I still don't know why he did it, but I'm eternally grateful to him. You see, I was meant to be executed and he was only there to sign the papers to allow it. Instead, he had me released and brought to the castle; it's been my home ever since."

"Executed?" Mr. Kuwabara frowned, face turning to stone. "For what?"

The long pause that followed his question was filled with Amon's mounting tension, indecision numbing her tongue. His earnest concern and curiosity wasn't something she'd imagined having to contend with.

What to tell them? How much? Did the king want her to be completely honest with his closest allies? Or could she skirt the truth, allowing just enough of it to satisfy without lying? Her lips parted as words threatened to spill from her mouth, poured directly from her brain without passing through her internal filter.

"I was complicit in the murder of a rather unkind man." She finally spoke, eyes lost to the distance before she shook herself back into the moment. The glass of water she held turned under the guidance of her fingers, the cup spinning in a slow circle. "The king showed me the only kindness I'd experienced since I was just barely grown."

Another thick silence descended on them and she wasn't sure how to banish it. Talking about herself wasn't going to work, she didn't enjoy it. None of her stories held the warmth of their camaraderie.

"What do you do for fun?" Mr. Urameshi asked idly, fussing with his napkin as he attempted to fashion the paper into some strange shape that could've been purposeful or thoughtless. Such a thing was hard to tell because though his concentration seemed fixed on the work, she got the distinct impression he was actually listening rather intently, waiting for her answer. "I mean, when you're not kissing Hiei's ass."

"Yusuke, don't make fun of her for doing her job." Mr. Kurama scolded lightly.

Mr. Urameshi offered him a smirk and revealed the paper crane he'd made. "Who's making fun? I'm just calling it how I see it."

With a small wave of his hand and a soft smile the redhead encouraged her to answer, "Go on, Amon."

"In my spare moments, when there's nothing else to do with my time, I read." Amon perked up a bit at the topic. "My books are old. They're all recovered copies I've been able to pilfer from other staff who don't need them anymore; they bring me great comfort." A smile lifted her lips, touching her eyes. "I've always enjoyed reading. It's nice to be able to choose my own books."

Thrilled, she gushed brightly about her prized possessions. No one cared that she loved reading, or at least no one had ever bothered to ask her before. Decorum forgotten for the moment, she spoke with her hands.

"I actually just bought my first new one the other day. The spine was still intact, the cover was practically shining! Can you imagine? I didn't even realize books could shine. I'm so familiar with leather covers and cracked bindings." She'd leaned forward slightly, her tone turning earnest as she tried to convey the pure magnificence of her newest, dearly treasured possession. Her hands moved through the air in front of her as she spoke, her eyes on them as she grinned her delight.

"What kind of books do you like?" Mr. Kuwabara leaned forward too, eyes shining with interest. "I read a lot too. Though mostly it's for work. I study biology so it's really dense stuff sometimes. Not always fun."

"I just like to read." She admitted, her smile unwavering. "I used to favor stories of adventures but nowadays I think I just really enjoy being able to read at all. Poetry, fiction, the news, whatever I can get my hands on."

"Psh. You make it sound like you weren't allowed to read or something." Mr. Urameshi snorted. "I hated being forced to read in school. I always liked comics though."

Amon opened her mouth to explain that his assumption was correct. She hadn't been allowed to read for most of her life, thus the hobby was a privilege. Mr. Kuwabara cut off her response with a jab at his friend.

"That's because you liked the pictures. I don't even know if you know how to read, dumbass." He turned back to Amon, gesturing to the other man with his thumb. "He dropped out, you know? Didn't even bother finishing school because he thought coming here to Makai to fight was more important."

Mr. Urameshi refilled his glass with the acrid brown liquid they'd procured from the bar. Without bothering to ask his friends he topped them off too. When he moved toward Amon's glass she put her hand over it with a gentle head shake. He shrugged and put the bottle back in it's home.

"You're just jealous because I have a birthright and you have student loans, dickhead."

"Boys." Mr. Kurama tried to calm them down with a smile, holding both hands up. "We're not here to argue."

"Were you all schoolmates?" Amon asked, amused. Anxiety panged once the words left her mouth, and she immediately regretted the question. Their history wasn't her business. Her faux pas passed unnoticed as none of the men took offense.

"Nah, not really. Kurama over there was too smart for us and went to a fancy high school. We went to the same middle school, but Yusuke dropped out and I went to a technical high school." Mr. Kuwabara explained easily. His chest puffed up slightly. " I'm the only one who went to university though." With a relaxed grin he addressed her. "What about you? Did you go to school? Is that a thing demons do?"

"I'm sure some of them do." She hedged. "I didn't. My education was private."

Green eyes fixated on her so fast and intensely that she shivered, physically retracting. She didn't want to know what his assessment determined.

"I learned a lot on my own." Amon amended to her best ability while avoiding meeting the fox's gaze. "I left home fairly young and my travels were the best teacher I could have had. For instance, I learned not to trust beautiful women in bars because they are more than likely out to steal from you and leave you for dead."

"Sounds like a good time!" Mr. Urameshi laughed loudly, seemingly unaware when she jumped slightly at the way he slammed a hand onto the back of her chair. "It's good to know even pretty ladies get conned by other pretty ladies."

"Indeed, it is good to know." Mr. Kurama agreed, but his tone made Amon think he was saying something completely different. He'd caught the scent of a lie, that's what his eyes told her. The barest shake of his head warned her not to continue speaking untruths.

She supposed that was her fault for being a liar and offered him a scant nod to indicate she'd received his quiet admonishment.

"I've been meaning to ask you." Mr. Urameshi lowered his voice, arm sliding across the top of her chair so he leaned inappropriately close to her, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. "What's with the sleeve thing?"

"Sleeve thing?" Amon tipped her head, trying to force herself not to shift away from him. If he hadn't already repeatedly tried to touch her she'd assume his beverage was influencing his behavior. Instead it seemed the king just had one rather touchy, feely friend.

Strange for a man who didn't seem to like to stand within arm's reach of anyone but her on any given day. The unfortunate thought brought with it the memories of warm skin pressing to her throat, fingertips gliding over her oldest scars. There was heat in her face and she hoped it went unnoticed.

Just in case, she sipped her water, forcing it to cool her down.

"You only wear one. What's with that?" He demanded, expression flat as his tone.

"Oh. I only get cold on one side of my body." She explained easily, glad for something to focus on.

"Really?"

"No." Her mask cracked, allowing a smile to slip through.

Yusuke blinked then grinned, laughing as he slapped her shoulder. Her cringe didn't seem to register with him. "Ah, that's what Hiei likes about you. You speak sarcasm as a first language too."

"That is one of the many qualities that makes him keep me around, I think. Also, I'm the only one who knows how to make his favorite stew. With that one recipe I've cemented my station." She giggled despite herself. "I don't mean to be rude, Mr. Urameshi, but could you please let go of my chair? You're awfully close to me."

"Right, I forgot." He pulled back, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck. "I gotta say, Amon, I'm surprised you haven't asked anything about the little guy yet. I thought you'd be hitting us with too many questions to answer."

"Oh." Her pulse quickened. "I wasn't aware I was meant to be asking questions."

Had she lost her chance? Was this an act of futility?

"Oh geez, Hiei was such a dick when we all met." Mr. Kuwabara complained loudly, dispelling her fears with his lack of reservation. Obviously there would be tales told and she was glad for it. "He had a real attitude problem. He was all like 'Friends are a crutch for the weak' and 'Humans are useless'.," he did his best to pull off one of the king's glares, attempting to match the pitch of his voice, "Even though he obviously wanted to hang out with us. Something about short people makes them extra mean for no reason."

Kurama coughed, his drink dribbling down his chin as he choked on the liquid and his laughter. He tried to hide the reaction but it shone in his eyes.

His imitation of the king's deeper voice was not the best, by far, she noted. But it was familiar and funny so she smiled all the same, the gesture burning her cheeks. How long had it been since she'd been truly joyful and allowed to express it? Her face wasn't used to smiling. What a happy problem to have.

"I suppose that's why you radiate kindness. On account of your height." Amon joked lightly and it made him laugh, a light dust of pink coloring his cheeks. "In the king's defense, most demons I've met feel similarly about humans. Are you a good indicator of an average human's strength, Mr. Kuwabara? I always thought your kind were meant to be smaller and, quite frankly, a little more defenseless but your aura is rather powerful."

"Mister?" He muttered, wrinkling his nose. "Ah, come on. Don't call me that, it makes me feel old."

"Our dear friend is actually the strongest human we've ever met. Likely the strongest in the world." Mr. Kurama spoke for him, the praise coming naturally and deepening the blush on Mr. Kuwabara's face. "You're correct, most humans are not what we would consider strong. They are however, dangerously intelligent at times and capable of grotesque acts of cruelty."

"I think that's worse than raw strength." She told him easily.

"Cruelty?"

"Intelligence." Her eyes moved to her glass. "Strength can be overpowered, undermined. There are limits. But a truly intelligent creature? That's the most dangerous thing there is."

"I feel as though you'd know just how dangerous such a mind could be." He allowed without pause, chin resting on the heel of his left palm. Despite his smile, his eyes held a sudden sharpness.

Again Amon avoided his assessment, a twinge of a fear rising for what he might see.

She didn't accept or deny the comment, instead choosing to sip her drink. "You said when you all first met the king was rather, for lack of a better word, unpleasant. Did that change?"

"You don't have to call me mister." Mr. Kuwabara repeated, ignoring her question to circle back to his own discomfort. "You can just call me Kuwabara."

"Ah, I see where he learned it." She muttered under her breath. Her fingers brushed through her bangs before she pressed to her right temple, finding a core of strength in herself that she used to explain things to the king. "It would be incredibly rude for me to do that, Mr. Kuwabara. We are not equals, nor are we friends. There is no reason for me-"

"He's right. Just use our names." Mr. Urameshi urged her, speaking over her while off her comments. "Right? Like, we're all friends."

"We are clearly no-"

"We're right, right?" Mr. Kuwabara turned to Mr. Kurama who heaved a burdened sigh.

No one was listening to her, she realized. Just like the king she was being forced to succumb to their heedless desires. No wonder they all got along so well. Maybe she should speak up, interrupt them. That would show them not to ignore her.

A hot wave of familiar energy spilled over the table, cutting off the conversation as hands came to rest on the back of Mr. Yusuke and Mr. Kuwabara's necks, fingers squeezing with noticeable tension. The king's temper was not a welcome guest at this party, and Amon inwardly cringed at the idea that it may be directed at her.

"What the hell do you idiots think you're doing? Did you kidnap her?" Hiei's eyes shone with annoyance as he kept his hold on the two men.

"Of course not." Yusuke winced at the grip on him. "I invited her out to drinks, she came."

"We're just trying to get to know her, Hiei." Mr. Kurama's smooth voice came without a smile, angling himself toward Hiei. He gestured to the space between himself and Yusuke. "You're interrupting. Take a seat."

"You cannot possibly expect me to believe that. You, especially, cannot convince me this is a well-meaning chat." Hiei released the other two men to jut a finger at the fox in warning. Without averting his gaze he addressed the other redhead. "Amon, you don't have to be here. I don't know what they did to you but you can leave."

"I came because I wanted to sire. There was no trick." She told him quietly, shrinking in her seat. "This is a boundary I've crossed alone and I'm sorry, m'lord. I know I shouldn't have accepted their invitation, they're your friends. Please don't blame them. This isn't as insidious a plot as you seem to think."

"Don't call me that." He snapped at her, whipping around to glare. His tone cooled when she winced. "Amon, you know I don't like you addressing me that way."

"I can go if I'm in the way." Her eyes held his even though she'd crumbled her posture. "If you want time alone with your friends."

"No." The word fell too quickly and strongly from his mouth. Amon settled some, allowing her shoulders to relax. Mr. Urameshi snickered. "I was just surprised to see that they'd somehow managed to abscond with you." Hiei admitted with a frown, skepticism lacing his expression as he studied the three men. "It's unusual to see you outside of the castle. You get overwhelmed in crowds."

"We're not a crowd. We're friends." Mr. Kurama told him, cheek pressed to the knuckles of his right hand. "Are you going to join us or not? You look silly just standing there, Hiei."

"I'll grab you a seat." Amon rushed to her feet. "I'll get the server to bring a menu for you and-"

"Sit down." He ordered with an eye roll, arms crossing over his chest. "I can get my own chair, Amon. Relax. Just, behave like you're on your own time. Consider this night a vacation from your duties. You're not a servant right now."

Hiei grabbed a chair from another table and yanked it over without bothering to ask the other patrons if they were done with it, planting himself between Mr. Urameshi and Mr. Kurama. Amon fretted, her hands searching for some way to assist him as she slowly lowered herself back into her chair. Confusion robbed her of thought temporarily, her mental gears whirring with great effort as she tried to process that she and the king were in the same room, the same table, and it was apparently not her job to serve him despite their proximity.

"Told you we'd get him to come." Mr. Urameshi winked at her with a grin. "Am I good or what?"

"Mr. Urameshi, perhaps this was-"

"Yusuke." Hiei spoke the name firmly, arms crossed as he stared at her.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, I wasn't talking to you." Hiei groused without malice, eyes still on his anxious attendant. "Call him Yusuke, Amon. There's no need for such formalities. Even if there was a need, none of these idiots would deserve such treatment. Call them by their names."

"Sire, I understand that these are your dear friends, and I am apparently not actively working, but I cannot bring myself-"

"Surely, you can bend your rules for a single night of camaraderie. It would put us all at ease if you addressed us as though we already knew each other." Mr. Kurama offered her a gentle smile full of warmth that she didn't fully trust due to the teasing glint of his eye. "Even Hiei agrees."

"I am decidedly outnumbered." Amon relented with a slight pout. "It does not sit well with me, still."

"It's an order, Amon." Hiei poured himself a serving of the dark liquid in the brown glass bottle that acted as their centerpiece. He made a face after sniffing the liquid then drank the contents of his cup without taking a breath.

"Hiei. That's not helpful." Mr. Kurama turned to him hotly.

"Unknot your panties, Kurama." Yusuke laughed. "He's not serious."

Hiei paused while pouring his second cup, eyebrow poised in question then decided to let the comment go unchallenged. Hiei swept his eyes over the table, before finally sliding his attention purposefully back to Amon. "See? You think these fools deserve your respect?"

"I think anyone you value should be treated with the utmost care." Her response was sincere. "Respect is the least I can offer to your friends and I'm now gathering these are men you once called companions in arms. They're an extension of you, sire. Why would I not believe them worthy of at least some reverie if for no other reason than their being important to you?"

"You're being too poetic." Hiei decided.

"Sire." She lamented, her tone speaking of this lost battle. "Must I?"

"I'm going to get annoyed if you don't."

"Fine. As you command then." She pressed back into her chair, lips pulled to one side as she huffed.

"About fucking time. Now drink." Hiei extended a glass to her, two fingers worth of the brown liquid filling the bottom. "It'll help you tolerate the company you've trapped yourself in."

"Thank you." Amon accepted the offering tentatively, cradling the new cup in her hands. "Just the one shouldn't hurt."

"Ah, come on lightweight. Just one?" Mr. Urameshi lifted the partially empty bottle from the center of the table to wiggle it with a wink, trying to entice her. "We didn't invite the temperance police out for drinks with us did we? Indulge yourself. We've got plenty and we're paying, so you don't need to worry about it."

"I likely am a lightweight now, that is true. It's been quite a while since I've had a drink. However, the cost isn't where my hesitation comes from Mr. Ura-Yusuke." When he seemed less than convinced she sighed, studying the dark liquid. "I was once made to drink an entire bottle of Ogre Killer in a single sitting, as my master at the time suspected it had been tampered with and didn't want to risk his own health." A hush fell over the table, astonished glances exchanged between the men. "There was no poison, but I was still critically ill for several days afterward. Truly it's a testament to my stubborn nature that I lived through the aftermath." Amon chuckled. "That was my last drink and it was likely over eighty years ago."

Yusuke lowered the bottle to the table and glanced at Hiei, who stared at Amon with a mixture of fury and perplexity. This was obviously the first time he'd heard this story, and Amon's gentle tone only fueled his protectiveness.

"That's horrifying." Kurama spoke for the others, the honesty of his soft words showing in the slight anger pinching the corners of his eyes and pressing his lips thin. "To think someone would intentionally disregard your health in such a monstrous way-"

"He was a monster." Amon agreed, cutting him off. Her shoulders pulled back, head rising as she sat a little taller. "But he is gone and I am here. With my king. With all of you. Truly, that is a reason to celebrate."

She raised her glass to them and the four men were forced to join her as she smiled kindly.

"To outliving our monsters." Hiei declared as their five glasses clinked together, but he was watching her and her alone.

"Oh, this is awful." Amon sputtered, gasping after her sip. Her eyes watered. "What bottom shelf swill have you been tolerating?"

"Bottom shelf swill?" Yusuke raised an eyebrow. "I liked it."

"I can't let you drink this." She reached over and took Hiei's glass from him before gathering the other glasses and the bottle. "Even if I am not technically working I cannot allow you to force this down your throat. I'll be back in a moment with something befitting men of your statuses."

"Amon, sit down." Hiei demanded dully.

"I don't work for you right now." Her pointed stare made him pull back in his chair, surprised. She left them as the other three men laughed at his expense.

"You had that coming." Kurama teased him.

"Shut up." Hiei closed his eyes, one eyebrow ticking despite his best efforts.

Amon returned with a green glass bottle. The rounded body curved into twining necks that met at the top to form one mouth. the label printed and not handwritten. She gave them each fresh glasses before pouring all of the men a sample of the drink. Reclaiming her seat she filled her own glass. "Now, it has been quite a long time since I've tasted it but I do recall this is a well-liked brand. Aged to perfection. This is the sort of drink men of your rank should enjoy."

"This is actually pretty good." Kuwabara complimented, eyes going wide. "I thought all demon booze tasted like isopropyl alcohol, but this is like, real whiskey or something."

Hiei stared at Amon as he savored his first sip with consideration. He offered no opinion on it other than fixating on her face before his eyes narrowed slightly, as if just discovering something. Still, he kept silent.

She fought the urge to adjust herself in her seat. She really wished he would speak his thoughts in moments like this. There was no tightness in his jaw to indicate anger. Nor was there the usual quirk of his lips to show he thought she was amusing. What was he thinking?

Her imagination was not her friend.

"Well, before you interrupted us," Yusuke reached over and grabbed Hiei's shoulder before looping his arm around the other man's neck, "we were getting to know this lovely lady."

"Mhmm." Hiei allowed his attention to move to his friend's face. "And how was that going?"

"It's going great. We've learned all kinds of things." Yusuke retracted himself with a smug grin hiding behind his glass.

"Good."

Yusuke stuck his bottom lip out, eyebrows pulling down to display his annoyance. "You're supposed to get jealous or something."

"I hope you didn't pull Amon out here under false pretenses, Yusuke. If I were to think you were somehow being malicious towards her, I'd get upset."

Amon tilted her head, watching the interaction. Despite his calloused, withdrawn tone and his crossed arms the king didn't actually seem to be uncomfortable at all. Just the opposite. He looked at home amongst these men whom she didn't know, his friends.

"I'm having fun." Amon declared to ease him, just in case. The smile she gave earned a slight widening of his eyes, a loosening of the jaw. Cautiously she sipped her alcohol, truly just to taste it. "They were telling me about you, when you were younger."

Immediately, Hiei glared at Yusuke. "What the hell have you been saying?"

"We told her what an asshole you've always been." Kuwabara explained with a laugh. "Oh! Wait, you're going to love this Amon. Hold on." He stood up and started patting his pockets, first on his jacket then his pants before producing a small rectangular device. With a few touches of his fingers he brought the thing to life to her delight and fascination. A crisp screen displayed a host of small images but he moved too quickly through them for her to make sense of what she was seeing. After a few seconds he held the device toward her and she was left cradling it, admiring a picture of the men at the table grouped together. Some of them still had baby fat on their faces and to her immense pleasure the king seemed to be one of them. "Yeah, we took that after The Dark Tournament. Pictures of Hiei are pretty rare."

Kuwabara squawked, jumping in his seat before Hiei hissed, "What the hell are you doing walking around with that, just showing it to people?!"

"Don't kick me!" Kuwabara complained.

"You were smaller." Amon commented with humor, her eyes sparkling when she assessed her king. They'd all lost the baby fat rounding their cheeks. Kuwabara had lines around his mouth and eyes indicating a lifetime full of humor and happiness. The others looked older in the way that cheekbones and strong jawlines aged men. "How long ago was this?"

"Not long enough." Hiei huffed.

"Fuck, that had to be what, like, almost twenty years ago?" Yusuke looked to Kurama for confirmation.

"Eighteen." Kurama nodded with a smile hidden behind his hand. "It's amazing what time will do to a man."

"You're all so young." Amon touched the screen and nearly dropped the device as the picture veered away to be replaced by another, this one of Kuwabara and a cat. "Oh, I broke it!"

She held it back to the man, who laughed at her alarm. "Nah, you just swiped to the next picture. What, you've never seen a phone before?"

"I've used phones." Amon defended, indignant.

"Okay, well, this is like a phone had a mutant baby with a super computer and you carry it with you all the time. I keep a bunch of pictures on here." He explained, watching her eyebrows come down with each word. "It's just a cell phone. Hiei used to have one until he got pissed off and broke it. I sort of figured demons knew about them. The barrier has been down for a while now so these things aren't so uncommon."

"The barrier is down?!" Amon didn't mean to shout. The table shifted abruptly as she rocketed to her feet, mouth agape. The news was so sudden she couldn't help it. "The worlds are just…open?"

"What fucking rock have you been living under?" Yusuke wiped his chin with the back of his hand, having choked on his drink during her outburst.

"Yusuke." Hiei spoke his name firmly.

Amon swallowed, bouncing her attention over all their faces then around the bar as she struggled to reconcile this new information. How much had she missed in her days indentured? The world had changed so drastically without her even knowing. Naivety was not a natural state to her. Without a thought to the consequences she grabbed her alcohol and slammed it back in a few breathless gulps.

"Shiny books, phones you carry in your pockets, and no barrier." She recounted the revelations under her breath. "What rock indeed, Yusuke. I might as well show my ignorance then. What is a computer and what makes it super?"

"Uh." Kuwabara and Yusuke turned to Kurama in tandem, looking like startled children as they floundered with how to answer her. Yusuke waved vaguely toward him. "You wanna take this?"

"It's a lot to get into at the moment, Amon. I'll try to find you some books on the subjects." Kurama offered gently.

"You know computers, you've seen them." Hiei told her, amused. "The healing pods are controlled by them, as well as the training dummy creator. Though you'd be most familiar with the medical machinery, given how much time you spend near them."

"Oh! Okay. Yes. I have seen those." She nodded, relieved that she wasn't completely at a loss.

"Well, Hiei, that's correct but it's also not the same." Kurama started to explain. "The computers that Kuwabara are referencing are data processing machines that perform multiple functions and use the internet to transmit-"

Amon stared at him intently, refusing to blink as she listened. Kurama caught her expression, then the glassy eyes of his other friends and waved his hand. "We can talk about it later. The important thing is that you did not break the phone and Kuwabara has more pictures he can show you."

"Oh, yeah! Here. This is my cat! Isn't she cute?" Kuwabara showed a picture of the animal sleeping, allowing Amon to once again cradle the cellphone in her hands. He blushed and rubbed his neck. "No offense, I mean. Wolves and dogs are cute too and stuff. I'm just more of a cat person."

"Your preference is noted." Amon told him, distracted. She practiced using the device, swiping to the next picture. Then the next.

"So, how was your day Hiei? I feel as though we didn't really get to see you." Kurama's conversation starter steered the attention away from her and to the king, who responded as gruffly as expected.

With the men otherwise occupied no one supervised what she was looking at. She examined the photos she'd found by swiping. Her eyebrows rose slowly, then lowered, her head nodding approvingly. A grin spread over her face, salacious and appreciative. The alcohol tickled her desire to cause mischief so she smoothed her expression to do just that.

"Ah, are hybrids common now that the barrier has been removed?" Amon's open and genuine curiosity earned Yusuke's attention as he poured the table more drink.

"Hybrids?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes. They're quite attractive. I'm pleasantly surprised. I would have assumed the offspring of demons and humans would be riddled with defects but these women are quite healthy looking." She lowered her eyes back to the screen. "Unless they are just demons. I just assumed they were mixed based on how clean their skin looks. There's no scars, and they don't seem to have sharp teeth."

"Wait." Kuwabara's face went white as his eyes widened. "Wait, what are you looking at?"

"Pictures of your cats." Amon turned the screen to face him, displaying a rather lewd photo of a woman wearing cat ears and lingerie that hid nothing from view. "Are you alright? You look ill."

He sputtered, pallor quickly switching from sheet-white to deep scarlet. Making a bunch of noises that were likely meant to be words, Kuwabara reached for the phone only to have Amon switch which hand held it, keeping it away from him. Yusuke draped over Hiei, laughing so hard he couldn't form sound, body convulsing with humor. Kurama looked ready to cry from how hard he was trying not to make a scene but he couldn't swallow all of his laughter either. Hiei stared at the picture, head tipped to the side as though he were only just coming to understand what was being displayed. He offered Kuwabara a particularly sly smirk, amused.

"Interesting taste." Hiei teased him.

"You weren't supposed to see that!" Kuwabara managed finally, focused on Amon.

"That's awfully selfish of you. This is important information, Kuwabara. I should know about the state of society outside of the castle. Plus, it never hurts to keep abreast of new fashion trends. Is this type of garment common or?" Amon glanced to the screen and when she turned back to him it was with a wolfish grin that revealed her canines. "It's a vision, no matter your answer."

"Who just leaves their porn in their camera roll?" Yusuke gasped for enough air to utter the question. Still slung over Hiei, he wiped at the tears rolling down his rosy cheeks.

"An amateur." Kurama tried to calm himself down to no avail, fanning himself with a napkin.

"Not a demon. Or a hybrid." Kuwabara squeaked, rising out of his seat to try to get the phone from Amon. "You scrolled too far!"

"I didn't realize there was an etiquette here. You should have explained that to me." She pointed out with that same grin as she finally relented and allowed him his device back. "I figured they might not be authentic ears. Rarely do demons have two sets that way. You have either the humanoid ears or the animal, but not both at once."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience." Hiei grinned, shoving Yusuke off of him and back into his own seat. Picking up his glass he sipped the rather smooth liquor. He should compliment her impeccable taste. "Which salacious woman lured you in with her ears, Amon?"

"Me." She sipped her drink too, and wondered at how much better it tasted now than it had before. A warmth tickled her brain and stomach, loosening her limbs and her mind. She felt freer to express herself and her thoughts. Unfortunately, a slight fuzziness lingered as well, making it hard to remember why she needed to be more in control in the first place.

"You?" Hiei asked and then snorted. "And how is that?"

"That's a silly question." She told him easily, running her fingers through the ends of her hair.

A soft wave of energy spilled from her, rolling over the group and a few other patrons who looked their direction. The scent of fresh rain grew heavy at the table in the wake of the gentle burst, but the pleasant perfume didn't hold anyone's attention for long. The triangular red ears atop her head that drew four sets of eyes, jaws loosening enough for them to hang open as the scarlet strands of hair she'd been playing with drifted out of her hold. Amon stretched her arms over her head after the transformation, ears pert and listening. The way her arms moved skyward created a line that deserved to be traced from fingertips down to the boning in her blouse. She'd never bound her chest, red eyes discovered, and it was an image too tantalizing to demand higher thought.

Hiei finally understood Kuwabara and his fascination with girls and animal ears. Something about the triangles changed the woman at their table, made her more expressive. He was transfixed, mesmerized.

And a little annoyed that she'd chosen to display this secret to the world and not just to him.

Now the real question, in his opinion, was did the ears come with a tail?

"Hiei." Kurama lowered his voice as he leaned over to whisper earnestly, eyes wide with concern. "Hiei, did you know about this?"

"I did not." Hiei admitted readily, too distracted by the vision to play into Kurama's paranoia.

"For a demon to have multiple transformations, it would mean-"

"Kurama," Hiei turned toward his oldest friend and allowed the look on his face to explain why he didn't care. Kurama would have figured it out anyway, there was no reason to hide the heat in his face or the hunger in his eyes, "shut up and let me enjoy this night out with my closest associates."

Kurama's brows rose before a wry smile unfurled, painting his face in a devious light. "My word Hiei, what should we call that expression of yours?"

Moving to the edge of his seat, elbow planted on the table, Hiei offered his response in a low, warm growl that hid nothing because he no longer cared. Perhaps once the whiskey wore off he'd be embarrassed but until then, "We call it hunger, Kurama. For something this bar isn't serving."

One of Amon's ears twisted to the side, causing her to turn in her chair so she could spy the waitress on her way over with a tray laden with food. Thanks to the alcohol and the release of some of her energy, Amon was ready to admit it had been wise of Yusuke to order more to eat; everything smelled more appetizing now than it had when she'd arrived. Some meat sizzled on a plate causing her to lick her lips, pupils large as she watched that particular selection get placed on the table. It took effort to not just snatch it for herself but even in this state she knew to wait her turn. She was not the leader of this group. She did not get to eat first.

Her tongue ran over her teeth, gaze on the plate unbroken while the others started to divvy up the food. Impatient as she was, she could sit still. Her tail, however, twitched under the table whenever someone's hand came too close to the dish.

"If you keep staring at it, it'll get cold." Hiei's voice interrupted her staring contest. "Eat, Amon."

"I was trying to be polite." She informed him, rising to stand so she could reach over the table to claim the plate.

Hiei spied the red fur curved around her, brushing the backs of her thighs. Shoving more food than needed into his mouth kept him from leering at her as he worked to chew without choking. Between the night before and this one he was a man quickly coming to the end of his rope. There was no outlet for these thoughts, these feelings: Only perpetual misery.

Amon paused, studying the mound of meat she'd claimed before choosing a cut that looked sizable and delicious. One of the best on the plate. He watched her eyes rove it and the fatty marbling before she dropped it onto his dish.

He stared at the offering, then squinted at her to try to parse out the meaning of her behavior. Kurama offered a thoughtful 'hmm' to his right, as if he understood perfectly. When Hiei glanced at him for explanation all he received was a smile.

"Eat." Her demand came without hesitation as he went to shove the meat back at her. He lowered his hand at the crisp, even tone she used. Her eyes landed on him, held him down as her chin rose ever so slightly. A raw commanding energy radiated from her, daring him to argue.

When he took a bite she nodded and then set about her own meal with refined ferocity. Between bites she glanced at Kuwabara. "In the picture you originally shared with me, the sky was blue. Where were you?"

"Hanging Neck Island." He used a napkin to wipe around his mouth. "It's in the human world. The Dark Tournament was held there."

She hummed, chewing slowly. Her eyes pinched at the corners as her mind circled the information. Then she pulled herself back to sit up straighter so she could speak to him properly. "It's been quite a long time since I've seen a blue sky. Is that special to the region of the island?"

"Huh? No, not really. That's just how it is in Human World." He shrugged, large shoulders rolling. "I guess it is sort of strange compared to here though, right? The sky in Demon World is always that weird red or like, purple or something. You don't even have stars here."

The clattering of Amon's utensils against the ceramic of her plate made her the center of the group's attention. Eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, she straightened further, staring at him. Then in a small, unsure voice, as if she feared he was teasing her, "You've seen stars too?"

He furrowed his brow, studying her for a second. "Well, yeah, of course."

"Have you been to Human World, Amon?" Kurama asked, betraying his curiosity.

"No, never." She shook her head, looking a bit dumbstruck as she stared at her food again, though this time lacking hunger. "I'm surprised to hear about their sky though. I had never considered it would be the same. Though, now, I realize how silly that is."

"The same?" Hiei asked, forgetting about his own food as well. "The same as what?"

"Oh. Sorry. Of course. A place I knew as a child." Despite looking at him she did not really see anything, too lost in her own thoughts. A blue sky with stars at night. Remarkable. The image birthed a longing in her chest that she'd long tried to kill. "It was a long time ago."

"I didn't know there was any such place on this side of the line." Kurama remarked with interest.

"Must be a pretty big secret then." Yusuke laughed. He whispered to her, "Between you and me, he can't stand not knowing things. Look at him. Practically frothing at the mouth for more information."

"Naturally I am hungry for more details. How could I not be?" The fox pulled his brows down as he assessed the woman, searching her thoroughly as he asked, "Are you certain you were not in Human World?"

"Yes, quite. But then again, like I said, I was a child. Perhaps I heard stories and dreamed the whole thing." She smiled with the lie, trying to laugh it off. Realizing, as green eyes narrowed slightly, that she'd been caught she amended herself. "But I didn't. All the same I'm not eager to forfeit the details. This isn't meant to be an enticing ploy, rest assured. The memories are just painful for me to sift through. I hope you'll understand."

"Was it beautiful?" He asked despite her clearly trying to draw a boundary around the topic.

"Beyond comparison." She nodded, exhaling with the admission. "There's no other place like it in the world. At least, not that I've found. Though the world is large and I have only seen so much of it."

"It's a shame you won't talk more about it. I'd like to see such a place." Kurama tugged at the topic, trying to lure Amon into elaborating.

"Me too, yet I'll never visit again. At least not in this waking life." Her eyes again lost focus and for a minute a deep sadness lined the blue, the of her mouth, her ears falling with the emotion coating her throat.

Amon shook herself and plastered on a smile that did little to dispel the feeling. "Instead of such forlorn talk let me hear more about your world, Mist-Kuwabara. It's just Kuwabara tonight isn't it? I keep forgetting." She rested her chin on her palm, tail moving slowly side to side as she laughed at herself. "You've captured my riveted attention, a hard thing to do. Is that island where you met the king?"

"No, we met Shorty earlier than that. He was on our team at the tournament because he stole some artifact and Yusuke had to kick his ass into probation." Kuwabara explained. Hiei snorted in disagreement. "I met him at Maze Castle because he had to do some work to earn his freedom back. Little criminal."

"That's where we all became friends." Kurama told her happily, reaching over to grab the king's shoulder. "We learned to work together in that place and it helped us start to grow as people, I think. Even Hiei learned some lessons on the value of friendship though he'll deny it with his dying breath."

"I said it then, I'll say it now. The only reason I didn't drop the Gate of Betrayal on you idiots is because I knew I might need your help later on." He picked up his glass, centering his attention on Amon. "I was still recovering my energy from receiving the Jagan. If it weren't for that they'd all be dead and I'd be happier than ever."

"Ah! I've been curious about that!" Amon piped, perking up. "So your third eye is not of natural origin."

"I'm sure it was natural to whoever had it before me." He pointed out.

"Certainly. Though it seems possible, giving the medical advancements of this territory that it could just as easily have been cloned." Amon waved her hand toward him, eyes scanning him with unguarded interest. "It is difficult for me to imagine you weak. You radiate such stark strength. You and Mr. Urameshi, I mean Yusuke, nearly took me off my feet this morning with your outbursts of energy. If Benji hadn't warned me I would have thought you were under attack."

"I'm glad you figured it out or else I might be missing my teeth!" Yusuke's boisterous laughter shook through Amon as well, allowing her grin to grow to show her canines on both sides of her mouth, crinkling around her eyes. "Eh, what about that?" He once again leaned closer to her but this time she did not display any discomfort, finding the warmth of his arm around her shoulders relaxing. "Do you think you could kick my ass, Amon?"

She responded by reaching over the table for the whiskey bottle and serving him another glass. "Perhaps once this bottle is empty."

Hiei watched the exchange, unamused by how Yusuke's close proximity no longer seemed to raise alarms in his wolf. In fact, she leaned into the contact a bit. He huffed but no one heard him.

He laughed again, grabbing her shoulder before patting it repeatedly, pulling himself back to his own seat. The rosy hue gracing his cheeks brightened with the effects of the drink and his own good humor. Amon could commiserate a bit with his flushed state. The alcohol was making the bar feel warmer, or perhaps it was the company she was surrounded by. Either way, she enjoyed the cozy, comfortable sensation allowing herself to relax completely. Reaching up she pulled her hair free of the tie, allowing the fiery strands to fall around her shoulders and down her back. After giving her head a good shake she placed her elbow on the table, chin on the back of her hand in an unusual breakdown in etiquette.

"At first I was certain this was a trap of some kind. Or a test, perhaps. I'm glad I mustered the courage to come all the same because I am truly enjoying myself. What a liberating feeling!" She beamed at the men. "Thank you for inviting me to join you."

"Aw jeez." Kuwabara stared at her and then looked away to drink some water, his own cheeks growing pink. "You've got a really pretty smile."

He yelped as Hiei's foot collided with his shin under the table, the sound making Amon tilt her head while she inspected his expression.

"Are you alright?"

"That was the same spot." He hissed to Hiei.

"Good." Hiei hissed back.

"Sire, please don't abuse your friends." Amon sighed, brows falling as she stared at him. "Especially when they are merely being kind to me. It makes me feel as though you'd prefer they be cruel."

"That's not the point and he knows it, Amon. And stop calling me sire. We're all on equal ground tonight." He shot her a look to convey his frustration.

"Are you certain you want me to use your name here?" She wondered with one lofted brow, the hand not supporting her chin gently tracing the mouth of her glass. Her blue eyes drilled into him while her grin faded into a subtle smirk. "In such a…casual setting? I thought that was reserved for our moments of privacy."

The other three men swiveled from watching her to staring at Hiei, who wet his lips, considering how to respond. The twinkle in her eye was suggestive, confusing. If he didn't know better he'd assume she was outright flirting with him. As it was, he couldn't tell if she was teasing him or legitimately asking his permission to use his name. Scanning her face revealed little more than what he already knew.

"We're in private company. I don't mind if they hear you call me by my name. If I had my way that's all you'd call me by and you'd save the 'sirs' for imperative moments." He tipped his chin up just a hair, enough to rise to whatever this challenge was that she'd brought to his feet. "So yes, I want you to say my name Amon. At least for tonight."

"As you command, Hiei." She lifted her glass and sipped the liquid inside, savoring it before licking her lips clean.

He immediately regretted the request because hearing his name on her lips sent a heat spiral up his spine, threatening to cloud his brain.

He blamed it on the look in her eyes and the presence of the ears atop her head; they made her look different, so unlike the woman he knew. Also the whiskey. He could always blame the whiskey for the sudden tension that stretched between them. He'd like to pretend it was only him that noticed but he could see the stupid grin lighting Yusuke's face and could see Kurama hiding a similar expression behind his hand. The bastards.

"Can I ask you about your tattoos?" Kuwabara broke through the moment and for once Hiei was thankful for the sound of his voice. "I've never seen a lady with so many before. Some of my dad's friends had full back tattoos and sleeves but that's a whole different thing."

"Hmm? Of course you may. The explanation circles back to Yusuke's earlier question about why I only wear one long sleeve." Amon turned in her chair to present him with her right arm so he could better see the artwork inked into her skin. "Beautifully done, aren't they? I had thought my skin was too ruined to allow for such things but I was proved wrong. I'm sure you know that the king treasures scars equally. They tell a story of survival to him, a legend etched into skin for sharing with those worthy of learning it. For me though, there are stories I don't want to share. Thus the tattoos. They cover my scars."

"Can I touch them?" Kuwabara's hands hovered over her arm, uncertain.

"I'll allow it."

She smiled softly but still tensed a bit when his fingers grazed over the scattered, iridescent white petals spaced over her entire arm caught mid-flight on their descent from the branches spreading from her bared shoulder. Amon watched him study the band of solid black circling her wrist, covering the scars born of years spent in shackles. Those wounds were the first that the king had ordered her to see to, she recanted to the table, the first time someone had cared whether or not she was injured in so long that she'd been shocked by it. He found the triskele on the inside of her wrist, the three spirals connected in the center, painted royal blue. Another band, a circular celtic knotting, looped around the divot between shoulder and bicep, the laced lines inked white with the shading and empty spaces filled in with the same blue. The knot one seemed to rest atop a gathering of storm clouds which started at the round of her shoulder and continued until midway over her bicep.

"I have a fondness of storms." Amon explained absently while he took in the details. "He does good work, does he not? They look like they were plucked from the sky."

"They look almost real, yeah." Kuwabara confirmed with interest, voice softened by awe.

He continued his inspection, keeping his touch light. Tall grasses rose from the band of black on her wrist, designed to look as though it swayed in a great wind. The blades were spotted with small purple flowers. Vines climbed as well, reaching for the clouds, twisting and weaving to form more of the style of knots circling her upper arm, though these were far more intricate. Parts of it looked to be, maybe, the face and figure of a strangely elongated wolf, it's mouth opened. Despite all the covered skin, all the ink, all the designs, he found empty spaces where scars remained visible. It blended well, the negative space, at least well enough that at first glance he hadn't noticed them at all.

"Your guy missed a few spots." He pointed out.

"No, those were left intentionally. Not all my stories are so upsetting to me. Some of my memories are fond, even." Amon smiled gently then allowed it to grow into a light laugh. "Those I earned by my own rights and I refuse to give them up. For instance, this one I learned fighting a monk in Tourin. I did not win, but I learned. I improved."

"Tourin you say?" Yusuke's eyes lit up. "I know something about that."

"I'm aware." Amon nodded. "You were once king, if my notes are correct. I found it to be an interesting place, despite the constrained company of monks. My time there was well spent."

"Did you know the old man?" His spirited demand made her laugh.

"Something like that."

Hiei ignored them, instead watching with keen interest as Kuwabara's large hands fumbled over her precious tattoos. Surprise, and some jealousy, struck him as she remained patient with the human. He didn't like the feeling as it started to chew at his mood. She'd never given him such an opportunity, nor such an explanation for the markings. Yet to a near stranger she explained the balance implied by the symbol on her wrist? That the petals were a reminder of her homeland, which she had lost so long ago? The fact that she just enjoyed the purple flowers and thus they made the cut to be included? He kept his annoyance in-check, swallowing it down with another dose of alcohol.

Perhaps if he'd ever bothered asking, she'd have offered such things to him.

"What's with this?" Kuwabara turned Amon's arm over finding a few crimson petals amongst the white, falling off flowers the same color on the branches of the white-blossomed tree. "The rest are white."

"Oh, yes. They are. In truth the real tree only produces white flowers and they glow brilliantly. A silly, sentimental addition, but the red reminds of the king and my new home where I'm safe and welcome and cared for. It's a lovely color, isn't it? One of my favorites now." She explained readily, nonplussed by the strange angle she was forced into so the examination could continue. Cobalt gaze found her king, adding a silent emphasis on the reasoning.

Hiei glimpsed the petals in question and quickly abandoned his fit of jealousy, trading it for a sweet warmth instead. He knew that color well; it would be ridiculous if he didn't.

She'd used the exact shade of his irises.

"That is sentimental." Hiei remarked to tease her. "What will you do once you grow tired of me?"

"I'm sure I can have them recolored when the time comes." She quipped back. "I thought it was a rather subtle display, if I may say so."

"It was before you explained it." He pointed out, suppressing a grin. "Now it's glaringly obvious."

"He is so cruel to me, do you hear this? Making fun of me for appreciating him. The abuse I tolerate." Amon told Kuwabara, feigning a pout. "Everyday is a new agony."

"Yeah, seems like you're real hard up." Kuwabara snorted, rolling his eyes with humor. He lowered his voice to a stage whisper so Hiei could still hear him. "If he doesn't treat you right, I can beat him up for you. Maybe you'll want to come back with me. I'd never make you cook or yell at you in front of my friends."

Hiei aimed another kick at his shin but missed as Kuwabara had predicted the attack and moved his leg with a grin.

"That does sound nice." She agreed, shooting the king a sly look. "Utterly luxurious."

"You're free to go. I'll let you crawl back when you see how boring life is without me. I'll keep your room just how you left it." Hiei huffed, unconvinced. Then he looked over the carrot top with subdued judgment. "Of course, that is if he could even handle you living with him. I think you're too much for him, Amon. He prefers softer things where I crave that sharpness you so deliberately try to hide."

"I'm convinced to stay." She finally pulled free of Kuwabara's hands, righting herself. "For now. But you're on thin ice."

"Oh, am I?"

"It could crack at any moment." She inclined her head with a grin, eyes roving him again.

"They need to get a room." Yusuke declared, rolling his head toward Kurama whose raised eyebrows seemed to agree. "Are you seeing this?"

"Yusuke." Kurama didn't argue but he did shake his head. "Leave them be."

"We're not flirting." Hiei snapped. "You keep seeing what you want to see."

"I was." Amon announced without shame and she watched, delighted, as Hiei sputtered before turning his large, wide eyes to her as though he feared what she might do. What a delicious, addicting feeling. She flashed her teeth at him, teasing one canine with the tip of her tongue for a second. Color flooded his face. Taking a drink she offered him an iota of reprieve. "Just kidding."

"I like you. I like anyone who can yank Hiei's chain." Yusuke threw his arm around her shoulders again, pulling her toward him. "You're more fun than I thought you'd be. Honestly, I thought that stick up your ass would never let you relax."

"I'm enjoying your company as well. Though I think all my chain pulling will get me in trouble tomorrow when I'm back on duty and that pesky stick makes it reappearance."

"Aw, come on. We're friends now, you don't have to go back to that bullshit." Yusuke didn't release her, grinning so brightly she couldn't help but be charmed by him. "I won't have it."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Yusuke, but let me be quite honest with you." She put her arm around his neck in kind, forcing his ear near her mouth so her breath warmed his skin. Cheeks flushed with liquor, her eyes shone with mischeif, voice tinged by an accent that mingled with her usual cadence. "There is only one man in this territory who gets to tell me what to do, so what you will or won't have is completely irrelevant to me."

She released him and pried his arm from her shoulders in a fluid set of motions, continuing to smile through it all. Her hands found the bottle, filled all their glasses once again.

"Slainte." She held her drink to them and slammed it back. The sound of her chair scraping over the floor announced her standing, the empty bottle dangling loosely from her fingers as she strode over to the bar.

"I've never seen her this way." Hiei told the table, a tinge of confusion shading his far more prevalent admiration for this side of Amon she'd been keeping under lock and key. "I've never seen her smile so much. And only so brightly maybe twice. I was skeptical when I arrived, I thought you'd done something to trick her into coming here but she's actually enjoying your company."

"I mean, I did entice her. You're not totally off base." Yusuke explained with an elbow gently prodding at Hiei's ribs. "I promised her stories of you. She had no interest until I dropped that lure. You really gotta open up to her more."

"Our pasts are topics that bring us both too close to our own walls. I do not pry for hers and she does not pry for mine."

"Maybe you should learn to climb then, because it's pretty clear that she wants to know more about you." Yusuke drained his glass then stared at the empty space within.

"She's relaxed a lot." Kuwabara broke into the conversation, toying with his own drink without sipping it. "Like, a lot a lot. Sitting next to her is completely different now than it was before. The anxiety is nearly gone and all that's left is this warmth. I'm amazed she hasn't acted on it before because it seems like it's consuming her. Sitting next to her is like sitting in sunlight."

"Your skills have sharpened." Hiei let the compliment ring clearly. "In the few moments I've seen her truly relaxed like this, I've gotten the same impression."

"You sincerely don't feel any ill will from her?" Kurama pursed his lips, examining the tallest of their friends. "No indication that perhaps any of this is an act?"

"I told you before, I think she's just a pretty nice person. Sort of remarkable, isn't it? Given all that pain. So much pain." Kuwabara sighed as though it were his pain too. "When I first saw her, I could feel it. There was this weight around her, it was so dense almost smothered anything else. Even when she smiled. The only other time I felt it lessen was when she was protecting Hiei."

"Is that so?" Kurama raised an eyebrow, lips flattening further, processing the information.

"You are talking about me." Amon interrupted the lull in the conversation to present another bottle, different from the last. This one was black and resembled any normal bottle of wine or alcohol. When she filled her glass the liquid glimmered a rich, mesmerizing sea-green. "An gabh thu tuilleadh, Yusuke?"

The table stared at her, but no one as sharply or attentively as Kurama. He'd snapped his attention to her from his own drink, mouth forming the shape of the words in silence. Eyes flashing wide for a second, Hiei tried to recall if he'd ever heard speak such foreign syllables before. Kuwabara blinked as though he thought he'd misheard her.

Yusuke only knew she was offering a refill because she gestured with the bottle. He nodded.

"What language is that?" Kurama wondered, curiosity once again piqued.

"Mine." Amon took her seat and eyed him. Then her lips curved into a daring smile, one that clearly showed she knew she was challenging him. "It is my mother tongue, Kurama. A language few care to learn, and fewer speak. It is nearly dead, by my estimation."

"Ah, so you hail from a land of blue skies and stars and dead languages. Perhaps you come from a lost time." When he smiled at her it was sincere, it touched his eyes and relaxed his shoulders.

Hiei didn't like that either. His so-called friends were getting a little too comfortable with the woman. Her encouraging them didn't help.

"Perhaps I am a ghost." She feigned shock, allowing her mouth to open slightly before covering it with her hand. "That would explain being so stuck in my ways, hmm, sir?"

"If you were a ghost I'd know about it." Hiei informed her easily. "If you keep teasing him, he'll lose his patience with you and figure it out for himself. That's what he does."

"We are kindred spirits, then." Amon raised her glass to the other redhead in solidarity. "Alright, I will explain a bit further. But only if one of you finally fulfills your end of this bargain. I heard you from the bar, warning him why I came. Since there is no secret to my reasons I hope there will be no need to hold yourselves back."

"You could hear from so far away?" Hiei frowned at her, not happy with that news at all.

She pointed to her ears, fur covered and at the ready, twitching slightly with all the noises of their space. "I have incredibly acute hearing, always have. Thankfully, I can focus on not hearing the whole world. Otherwise, I might go mad."

"Are any of my conversations private?" He wondered dully.

"I respect you enough to remove myself every time you need to be alone. It is not my place to eavesdrop, intentionally or otherwise." She tossed her head. "Well, not on you anyway."

"Someone tell her a story." Kurama demanded, glancing over his friends one at a time. He settled on Yusuke. "You started this. Keep your promises, Yusuke."

"You're pushy now that she's dangling a carrot in front of you."

"It's rather more like a tender cut of meat to me than a carrot."

Without any more prodding Yusuke launched into his story about how he first met Hiei, embellishing to the point that both Kurama and the king corrected him on a few things. Then he rambled into fighting with his team at the tournament that drug them all together again.

Kuwabara entered the conversation then, explaining that both the demons had helped him get stronger and train but eventually Hiei gave way to Kurama because he couldn't bring himself to go full out against the human. Kurama had no such reservations.

Amon listened with rapt attention, fixated on each speaker though her eyes often wandered to her king, reading his reactions. She grew especially still and engrossed whenever he spoke about events himself, offering his own views and perspectives on them.

"I'm blessed." She declared happily once a lull struck. "Thank you so much for sharing these stories with me. I will cherish them."

"Ante up." Yusuke prodded her.

"Of course." Amon bobbed her head. "My homeland is a strange place, unlike anywhere else I've been in this world. I did not know that the sky was red until I left that place. I did not know the stench of the air until I wandered across the desert. The air is clean where I was born; fresh, smelling of earth and growth and flowers. It's a living place. Everything grows and it grows large, thick, radiantly. Forests so dense the light in them is green for filtering through the leaves, animals so large they feel as ancient as the trees. And oh, the way the land speaks! A truly spiritual language, older than everything else. I miss it greatly."

"Will you ever go back?" Kuwabara asked, touching her arm delicately.

"No. I will not. I thought, once, that I would. But fate intervened. I am exiled and there is good reason for it. If I were to return it would be to pay penance for my crimes." She explained, patting his hand. "I am too selfish at the moment to find that notion tempting. I'm too happy in my life now to wish for it to end as a form of reparation."

"Must've been one hell of a crime." Yusuke snorted.

"It was indeed." She agreed. Then she laughed, bright and twinkling, her expression open and shining. "Our mistakes sometimes amount to successes, if we are lucky and here I am! Of all the ridiculous things. I am happy and I am thankful for it. I never dreamed I'd say such a thing about Alaric. I used to imagine fighting Mukuro myself and now I thrive under the watchful eye of her heir. Life is truly a mystifying experience."

Hiei set his glass down without drinking from it, focused on his attendant. "You wanted to fight Mukuro?"

"I wanted to beat her." Amon nodded, her eyes moving to the ceiling. "I was a child wasting my youth, full of wild ideas."

"Would you have won?" He lowered his voice to ask because this was not the first hint that Amon's current power paled in comparison to who she used to be.

"I certainly would have made it interesting for her. But no, I do not think I'd have won." She shrugged. "I'm old enough now to put my own arrogance aside."

"Too bad." He commented, studying her. "I'd rather like to taste what that arrogance made you capable of."

Her responding smile was sly, as though she knew a secret and wouldn't tell him. The conversation picked up around them, more stories being swapped, but that was the last that Amon offered of her own past.

"You're loud." Hiei complained as Amon laughed, nearly tripping over her own feet on the flat floor of the hall leading to her room. "Calm down, you're going to wake everyone up."

"No one else down here but ghosts." She declared. Then she yelled. "And us!"

Her spinning in a circle, dancing with her arms out, turned into her bumping into the wall and crumbling. She continued to laugh and grin while he huffed, marching over to her. His hands slid under her arm and helped her find her feet again. Amon leaned on him heavily, stumbling a little further with her weight pressing against him.

"Where is everyone?" She wondered, looking around. "Where is Yusuke?"

"He went to his room with the others." Hiei reminded her. "They left us in the foyer, Amon. They told you goodnight. Remember?"

"Oh. I guess they did." She snorted, unimpressed but with what Hiei couldn't begin to guess. "You're not drunk."

"No, I'm not." He agreed. "I think, really, only you and Yusuke are this far gone."

"A shame." She pressed her shoulders to the wall beside her door under his guidance but her arms twined around his neck while he fumbled for her key in her pocket.

Hiei stilled, leaving the key in the lock despite it being open. Amon's fingers curled in the hair at the back of his head, her gloved fingertips brushing over his nape. The contact was simple and lazy, like she'd done it a million times. He had to steady himself and focus his breathing so he could open the door but she didn't move to go in, not even when he turned back to face her.

"I wonder what would happen if we were both drunk at the same time." She told him, eyes partially closed while she looked at his face.

"Nothing good, probably." He swallowed as one of her hands moved to caress the back of his neck, the other still working through his hair. "Do you like touching people, Amon?"

She nodded without speaking.

"Why don't you do it more often?" He traced the shape of her bottom lip when her teeth caught it, searching for an answer. Hiei moved closer to her, lying to himself and claiming it was to better support her weight.

"I do it when I can't hold back." The information sent a thrill through him as she traced the line of his neck down over his shoulder, running down his arm until her fingers circled his wrist, bringing his hand to her face. Her lips pressed to his knuckles, then his palm, then the heel of his hand and finally the pulse-point of his wrist.

Hiei felt his lips part and the desire to wet them. Felt himself inch closer to her, admiring the haze in her eyes when she brushed her mouth over his skin.

"Amon." He spoke her name in a voice he'd never heard from himself before. A mingle of desire and agony. "Amon."

"I would die for you." She told him, placing another kiss on his wrist, then another slightly further up his arm. "I would die a hundred deaths if you asked it of me."

"I would rather you live." His voice hushed, throat clogged with emotions he didn't know how to show.

Her eyes raised to penetrate him, and he groaned. Her mouth was so close. Her other hand still played with his hair, massaging his scalp, sending tingles down his spine. He'd broken out in gooseflesh and he wasn't sure that had ever happened to him before. He couldn't remember. All he could think of was the fact she was so close to him.

Then she moved her attention to the door and she seemed to realize it was open.

"Oh, I should sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day." She slipped away from him, one hand on the wall for support. She turned on the threshold of her room. Humming low, a sound of consideration, she allowed her fingers to trace his jaw. "I will dream of you tonight, I think."

"What we will do?" He asked her, hoping for an answer that would cure this madness.

"Hopefully, be kind to each other. Or at least the best sort of cruel." She slipped into the darkness behind the door and closed the wood between them.

Hiei curled his fingers against the stone wall, panting a little as he tried to decipher his own needs and cravings. Maybe he'd compromised himself more than he'd realized. Maybe he'd had too much to drink.

He couldn't convince himself of the lie.

No. The issue wasn't too much whiskey: it was the lack of indulgence in Amon that was driving him into these frenzies.

How could he let himself get addicted to something he'd never allowed himself to taste?