You

"Next, a message from Wataru Yamada."

The screen cut to a different reporter. His slick-backed black hair and sharp suit were professional, like a rich CEO you'd see in a drama. Handsome enough, but lacking unique features that would help him stand out in a crowd. He stared into the camera as if trying to interrogate the viewers.

"I'd like to make a deal. You know who you are," he said calmly. "Hand over the girl by Sunday morning. She should be in good condition. If you fail to comply, I will personally see to it that your life comes to an abrupt end."

He smiled without his eyes. Unsettling teeth revealed to the camera, ready to chomp on his next victim.

"Don't get cocky because you think your identity is protected. There's no escape for you," he laughed, which devolved into a cackle. His amoral nature on full display, he shamelessly slammed his hands on the desk in front of him. "Oh, how I'll enjoy watching you squirm beneath me. Both of you...I'll be looking forward to it!"

Masao turned off the TV, uninterested in what the news had to show next.

"Hm, what'd you think of that? Are you excited to squirm beneath him...whatever that means?"

"He's more interested in you than me," Yoli yawned.

They returned home after their brief visit to the hideout and were currently cuddled up on the couch. It was a coincidence that they were watching the news when Wataru made his unhinged threat against Masao, but he wasn't complaining. Wataru's childish fits didn't scare him.

It was early in the morning, around seven. Yoli was still wearing her pajamas, a silky white tank top with shorts. Masao had fallen asleep in his clothes.

"What kind of music do you like?" she asked randomly.

"Music...oh, you know," he vaguely mumbled. "It's a little embarrassing when you ask about it directly."

"Haha~ Won't you play some for me?" she asked, leaning on him.

He pulled himself up and took a CD player out of a drawer on the TV stand. He had a decent collection of CDs and a record player in the bedroom, which was never used. It had been a part of Storm's collection, and it made him nostalgic whenever he used it.

"Oldies are good. I like Yoshiko Shinkura, Yoko Maeno, and Akiko Kosaka," he blushed. "Nobody makes good music these days. Well, people have lost their originality."

He put in a CD, and the player made a low buzz when it started to spin. He skipped to a song he liked. Then, she stood up and grabbed his hand, taking him to the middle of the room.

"Shall we dance? -But only if you're feeling well."

"I'll be fine."

The song started–a slow, sad piano ballad. He'd never slow danced with a girl before. Yoli, in contrast, was quick to lead him in their awkward waltz. Taking his hand, she guided it to her hip. Their hands slid together, outstretched as they swayed to the rhythm of the music.

A young woman's voice cooed a melody, one he'd heard many times. Never did he imagine he'd be dancing to it with his girlfriend.

His hand trembled against her side. "You've done this before?"

"With my father. He loved to dance..." she said sorrowfully. He had overlooked how losing her dad affected her. They were both parentless, and that had comforted him in the belief that she understood and shared in his depression. But her grief was still relatively fresh compared to his. He bit his tongue, resisting the urge to ask her about it so as not to ruin the moment.

His heart, weak as it was, somehow pounded twice the speed. How could that artificial organ find such resolve? He didn't usually get this flustered, but romantics were his weak point. In his youth, he could make out with a girl for hours and keep his composure. But when Yoli asks him to dance, he loses his mind? How embarrassing.

He couldn't sense an ounce of tension in her body. Could she feel how stiff he was?

"That's it...you're pretty good," she giggled.

Just being near her was enough to turn his cheeks pink. With the sliding door wide open, she lowered his head and kissed him long. Soft, plush lips pressed against his. His mouth was dry. Shameless. They had always been so shameless.

When they separated, he noticed the tears falling down her cheeks. "W-why are you crying?" he asked, covering his excitement with concern. She laughed through the tears and squeezed his hand lightly.

"I was just thinking about what Wataru said. It...snapped me out of the daze I was in," she said. "I keep worrying we'll be separated again. You said you wouldn't lie to me, that you wouldn't let it happen, but-"

"A daze...," he sighed. The song had come to an end, fading into nothing–the last track. Silence fell over the room, and they left their positions. He held her close, her head lying against him, heavy with worry.

It was a question lurking behind a curtain of projected peace. How long could this last? How long until it all came crumbling down on them? He was a fool for building their relationship on a foundation of sand. An idiot who, like a child experiencing his first love, believed strong emotions were enough to keep them together.

But Wataru had power: resources, people, money, influence, weapons. Compared to that, what did Masao have? Nothing but a few friends. Without them, he would be completely alone. Without them, what could he possibly do to protect her?

"He's going to kill you," she whispered, voice hitching. "I hate him."

"Hey...don't worry about that shithead. I'm right here, see? Not dead yet."

They stood together for a while, listening to the distant humming of care engines and shouting from down the street. The loud world did not affect their quiet little home, and he hoped it would stay that way.

"I should go get dressed," she said. His encouragement didn't cheer her up at all. She retreated to the bedroom, barely closing the door behind her.

When she worried, so did he. Their emotions had become closely linked, so it was hard for him to be hopeful while she was suffering.

I need to say something...

The bedroom door slowly drifted open, Masao finally taking the doorknob and opening it. Yoli stood silhouetted, gorgeous curves and all, like an angel. With her shorts still on, but stripped down to a bra, she was the picture of summer itself. His breath hitched.

"Yoli," he called. She turned, slightly surprised. She blushed and crossed her arms as he approached.

He pulled her into a long hug, nuzzling his head against her neck. Protecting her was his ultimate goal, but he still worried he might harm her by accident. She whimpered, and it went straight to his head. If he let go of her, he would have to acknowledge her gorgeous presence and brown eyes, milky, rich as earth.

"You're beautiful," he cooed.

"Thank you, but I'm really nothing special..." she pressed herself against him, their proximity tantalizing. "Compared to you."

"Liar."

He kissed her slowly, savoring every second. One kiss broke, and another began. Soon enough, they had tumbled onto the bed, and pinning her down with minimal strength, they made out like rabid animals. He made an effort to commit her taste to memory. She was honey, roses, the summer breeze, and bubbles.

Oh, how it made him shudder in ecstasy.

She was more attuned to him than he had expected. Despite their positions, he unknowingly played into her hand, serving her what she desired without pushback.

This is wrong. Stop.

But he couldn't tear himself away- everything was out of control. Eventually, he lost all energy and collapsed. His heart couldn't keep up the quick pace and crashed just as disasterously as he had in his accident.

Yoli rolled him over and climbed on top without hesitation. She pressed down on the small gem embedded on her chest, and a bolt of electricity surged between them.

"Mn- Aghhh...nn...!"

His eyes rolled back–mouth wide as a stream of saliva escaped. Gently, she bent forward and kissed him again. Her tongue strayed from his lips, licking over the stray liquid on his face. It was smooth on his skin, ticklish and warm.

God. She's licking my spit. What the fuck.

The shock she'd given him wiped his brain. He lay practically a zombie while she had her way with him, peppering him with loving kisses. She caressed his sides, rocking against him slowly. "...Nn...Sao," she moaned.

Where the hell did she pick up this behavior? Was she listening to my videos through the wall?!

His vision was hazy, but from below, she was angelic- He wished she would grow wings that could engulf him in their warmth. Wrap his metal heart in a wreath of feathers and call it sacred.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked when things had calmed down, brushing his hair with her hand.

"I think I'm dead."

"Hardly~" she smiled, pressing their foreheads together. Her hand rested over his steadily beating heart. "This is mine," she whispered.

When did Yoli become so bold?

"I love you," he confessed.

"I love you too."

"I love you."

"I know, I love you too."

- - -

When Natsu arrived at Masao's apartment, she was shocked to be greeted by the couple, who appeared exhausted and eager to shoo her away.

They sat down in the living room, and Yoli brought her a cup of warm tea. Their home was more peaceful than she'd imagined. It was a calm you couldn't achieve if you lived in Central City. She also picked up on a sense of panic between them–in their eyes, which flickered in the other's direction with anticipation.

"I found a lot of information on your dad. I'll go over it quickly and get out of your way," she said.

"Oh, no worries. You aren't in the way at all," Yoli replied sweetly. Masao stood against the wall, arms crossed and eyes barely open.

"It took a while, but I sorted through a ton of news reports from after the time you were frozen. There wasn't much..." She handed Yoli a piece of paper. "Shortly after your father buried you, he was arrested for your murder. He refused to give the location of your body, but he insisted that you were alive."

Yoli's eyes widened as she listened, scanning over the paper.

"He was interrogated and determined to be insane. He claimed to have seen visions from a higher power who told him to send his daughter to the future."

Masao stirred with anticipation. A lunatic saying those words wouldn't be taken seriously, but when you were on the other side of that declaration, staring at the girl who'd been frozen in time, it was hard to say if the man was crazy or a genius.

"When he was asked about these visions, he didn't give much of an explanation. He said it was necessary for the fate of the world. He was reluctant to send his only daughter to a distant future, even if an all-powerful being demanded it from him." She paused to think. "What convinced him, he said, was the man in his dreams who begged him to do it."

"A man?"

"Yeah, like a spirit or something. You have the report in your hands."

Yoli read quickly, and then her eye caught her father's words. He was made of smoke.

"That guy...he was the one who..."

Reading about what happened to her father after he buried her must have broken her heart, as was evident by a frown and her eyebrows knit with distress. Her father went crazy and eventually died from his own insanity. The world wasn't ready for the revelation he was shown- the future he witnessed with virgin eyes.

Now it was his daughter who embraced that world and lived in its filth.

Natsu stayed for a bit longer, smoothing out the edges of her findings with Yoli's input. She didn't want to intrude on their time together and left before noon.

It was a day off, but there were some things she needed to do at the office, which included returning the sources she had taken for her research. It wasn't against company policy to use such information, but digging up Y.O.L.I.'s past would get her in trouble. Wataru's earlier warning over national television had shown how seriously they were taking it.

Dirty was how she felt on her way back to the city. Helping a criminal and visiting his home on friendly terms made her worry for her future. What would become of her if she were caught?

The facility was open.
She scanned her key card.
Headed towards her office.
Passed a few people. Gloomy, boring.

The reference room door was ajar. Someone was inside, but when she peeked her head in-

Nobody.

She put away the files she'd taken, making sure to cover her tracks. Orderly and precise so nobody could tell they had been moved at all. Everything was in its place.

"Natsu! W-what are you doing here?"

"Gah!!"

Flipping around, she came face-to-face with her coworker. He hadn't been to the office in a while. He still had the same puppy dog eyes. Bright and optimistic, belonging to an extremely timid man.

"Kellen! Don't scare me like that!" she yelled.

"S-sorry, I- I thought you would be happy to see me," he grinned. He was too close for comfort, but she was backed into a corner.

When he was around, she got the chills. His skin was somehow blemish-free and glossy, an artificial appearance. The lack of personal information about him also worried her. How long had she been working with him? A few years at least, yet she knew nothing about him.

Age, full name, family, friends, everything was private. His life appeared to be manufactured to serve one purpose: an employee of COT. He was so ambiguous that even his gender could be a mystery if he hadn't dressed himself up the way he did.

"I'm done in here. Do you mind turning off the lights when you leave?" she said, navigating around him.

Pulled back by a sudden force, she froze with fear. His grip was unfathomably strong, fingers coiling around her thin wrist like handcuffs.

I thought he was a wimp...what is this?!

"I know what you've been up to with that guy," he sneered. "I'm honestly jealous of him- the crow, he didn't even have to try."

The crow?

Hajime's scarred face came to mind. A long, encompassing scar that swallowed his eye. It frayed out on both ends like a fractal–running down his cheek until its abrupt cutoff level with his ear. Compared to crow feathers, Natsu found it much prettier. Ink colored hair and a cold exterior. Comparing him to an animal, it was obvious he would be the crow.

Then what was she? Someone trying to turn around their life as she was might claim to embody a fawn or a dove, but they suited the time traveler better. A cat or a dog? No, those belonged to the strange duo she'd met a few days ago.

Scales came to mind. The coils of a cold-blooded ground dweller. Slithering across dry soil only to be crushed by those above. Putting on a strong front to hide the weakness that resulted from an incomplete identity. A snake.

"I'm not interested in you, let go of me!" she scolded.

He recoiled. There was no time to wait. Bolting out of the room, she put distance between herself and Kellen. His behavior was odd–a stark contrast to his typical facade, polite and reserved. What had triggered him to confront her about Hajime, and more importantly, how did he know?

He'd always shown a liking for her in their everyday conversations. He'd even admitted it himself just then- Jealousy.

Wanting to get home as soon as possible, she didn't bother to do the usual checks before leaving. Signing out, stating the matter of business dealt with, and such were standard procedures for COT employees. It kept everyone safe and accounted for.

No, not now.

Since she had not yet matured as a person, she couldn't consider herself a beast as strong and feared as a snake. Its smaller friend, the worm, was a better fit.

The crow called to her, and she was impatient to enter his nest, where he would swallow her whole.