A chill runs along Yata's spine.

"Anna," he says carefully, "do you mean he's dead?"

She thinks for a second. "No."

He lets out a breath. Well, there's that, at least.

On the other hand, death would at least clear things up. Like the rest of HOMRA, Yata trusts in Anna's abilities completely. If she says he's not dead, he's not—but she also can't find him. Which leaves him where, exactly?

"Is it possible he's much farther away? Like out of the country or something?" asks Kamamoto doubtfully.

Anna shakes her head. "He's not here," she repeats emphatically. When she scatters her marbles on the map again, they just pivot on their own axes.

"Well, this is… odd." Kusanagi walks out from behind the bar, staring dubiously at the spinning marbles. "I can't remember this ever happening before."

"Why wouldn't she be able to find him?"

"I don't know." The bartender lights a cigarette, which means he's either frustrated or wants to think, or both. "The only thing I can think of is that he might be with another Strain."

It makes sense. Strains have been known to cancel out each other's abilities before. Although why Saru would be with a Strain, Yata has no idea.

"I don't like this," Kusanagi says suddenly. "A new Strain's usually not a good thing. Things might get dangerous soon." He stubs out his cigarette. "How about this—I'll call Seri-chan—"

"Seri-chan?"

"…hush, Yata-chan, don't interrupt me. As I was saying, I'll contact Sceptre 4 and let them know about the situation, maybe see if they can trace Fushimi-kun's PDA. Meanwhile, I think you'd better take the little miss home."

"Wh… whaaa?" slurs Reina. She's slumped against the bar, cheek pressed to its surface. "What… sa-, saying 'bout me?"

"Great, she's totally drunk."

"'m not drunk!" she hollers.

"Yeah, yeah, you little alcoholic, just go back to sleep already. I don't know where she lives, Kusanagi-san."

"How'll you see a girl to her door if you don't ask for her address? Basics, Yata-chan."

Yata snorts. "Funny, but she's really not my type. Seriously, wouldn't it be better for her to stay here?"

"Yeahhhh… wanna staaay~"

Kusanagi just looks at him.

"Come on, it's not like I'm the one who gave her the drink—" Yata sighs. "Fine, I'll take her to the damn Blues. Hear that, little brat? You can go sleep in one of their jail cells or something."

"Don't wanna!" She flails wildly, attempting to hit Yata, but misses by a mile. "Mmm. Don't, don't m-move, stupid Yata."

"I'm… not. Jesus, Kusanagi-san, go easy on the kids next time, will you? Get up, Reina, come on, let's go." He pulls her to her feet, but when he lets go she sways, hiccupping, and ends up grabbing a fistful of his sweater.

"Hey, let go."

"I c-, c-, can't st… Everything's moving…"

Sighing loudly, Yata grabs her hand. "Here, just—don't fall over and break your fucking face or something, okay? I don't need your stupid uncle to give me any more trouble."

Bando snickers loudly. "Hey, Yata, hold on a sec—"

"What—put your damn phone back in your fucking pocket. If I see any photos of this, I swear to fucking God I will personally smash your phone to pieces and then feed it to you."

"That's a really convoluted way of saying 'cheese'."

Yata growls. "When I get back. You. Me. We're going to have some words about this."

"Lookin' forward to it, Yata-san."

"That's a promise, fuckface." He slams the door as loudly as possible to make a point. Kusanagi's shout of "Hey!" is the last thing he hears from inside the bar.

()

As they walk along the road, Reina weaves back and forth like a hot mess. This probably looks pretty bad. Yata can only hope people don't assume he's kidnapping her or something.

"'m tired."

"…we've literally walked two blocks."

"Carry me."

"Uh, how about, fuck no."

"Pi-ggy-back! Pig-ggy-back!"

"No, fatass, you're so large we'll sink into the ground if I try."

"You're mean."

"Well, you're fucking demanding. Keep walking, I'd like to get there sometime before dawn, thanks." Wow, she even smells like alcohol. "I hope whatever Kusanagi gave you wears off before your mom comes to get you. It's a little early for her to catch you sneaking out with older boys and coming home drunk."

"Don't wanna go home. H-… hate Mom."

"Hey, don't say that."

"But 's true," she mutters. "Wanna stay with Uncle Saru. 's so much b-, betterrr."

"If Saru's better than your mom, then I really feel sorry for you. He's not such a great person, you know."

"Why?"

"Well. I dunno. He's kind of an ass, mostly. " Yata smiles a little. "Put it this way—he's the kind of guy who'd steal kisses, put up horrible prank dating profiles for people, get you blackout drunk and then lose your stuff."

"Are you g-guys friends?"

"Hell, no."

"Oh." She stops walking, briefly, and Yata glances down at her. She has such an intense look of confusion on her face, furrowed brows and all, that Yata wants to laugh. Maybe she's one of those philosophical drunks.

"Do you hate Uncle Saru?"

In lieu of answering, he pulls her along through a side alley—"C'mon, this way. Careful not to trip." It's a shortcut he often takes in the daytime, but like this, unlit on a cloudy night, he has to slow to find his way. Once-familiar piles of refuse loom like glaciers in the dark. He nearly pitches face-first into a trash bin left smack-dab in the middle of the alleyway. A cat hisses and skitters across, eyes glowing like neon signs.

As they emerge from the other end onto a nearly abandoned street, he says lightly, "Nah." There's no need to bother Reina with whatever issues him and Saru have, he reasons to himself.

"Good," she mumbles after a second, and sits down abruptly on Yata's shoe.

"Oi. Get up, chubby. I need those toes, you know."

"Tired…" she slurs.

"We're almost there."

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"…okay, well, this time I'm telling the truth."

She doesn't respond, eyes sliding closed.

"Reina? Don't go to sleep—Goddamnit." He looks around. They need to at least get to a main road, there'll be cabs or something there.

He's in luck, though, as he catches sight of one cruising down a cross-street above. "Hey! Hey, stop!"

The cab swings around. The driver gives him a peculiar look, which is understandable, as Reina is now clinging to Yata's leg like a koala to a branch.

"Sceptre 4 headquarters."

"…You're not in some sort of trouble, are you?"

"No," sighs Yata, prying Reina from his leg and lifting her into the cab. "She's just—it's a long story, she's kind of got lost and I'm dropping her off. Just take us there, will you?" He slides into the backseat after Reina and slams the door shut. It smells funny inside and it's freezing—the cabbie has the air conditioning on full blast for some reason—but then again, beggars can't be choosers. "It's been a long day."

"Don't have to tell me," says the cabbie. They pull off into the street. Yata shuts his eyes and stretches. It has been a long day. Well, it's almost over now.

"Say, haven't I seen you before?"

He opens his eyes. The sliver of the cabbie's face he can see in the rearview mirror doesn't ring any bells.

"You're Yatagarasu, right? Yata of HOMRA?"

"Yeah," he says slowly. "Do I know you?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just that I saw you on the news the other day."

Right, the whole helicopter fiasco.

…The helicopter fiasco that definitely hadn't involved reporting his name.

Suddenly Yata's instincts are screaming in alarm. He starts forward, calling up his aura, but it sputters out, like flame under water. What the hell? He rises, gets halfway to his feet before stumbling back down. Everything feels oddly heavy.

The AC. It's gas, he thinks.

Turning to look at Reina takes so much energy. She's deep asleep. He tries to open his mouth, to speak to her, warn her, but the words don't make it out. He slumps down against the seat as everything tilts.

The world narrows, then blinks out.

()

"…y…idiot."

Not this again, thinks Yata. The headache, the bad taste in his mouth. "Fuck offfff," he slurs, "go dr-drinking with someone else next time."

"…ht? What… talking about?"

Groaning, Yata turns over. He wishes he'd just let him get back to sleep.

A second later something sharp jabs him in the side.

"Ow!"

"…up, you… idiot. Wake…up. Wake up."

Yata jolts awake.

He is… most decidedly not at HOMRA. He's sitting cross-legged in a nondescript carpeted space that looks somewhat like a hotel room with all the furniture removed, and more importantly, his head hurts like a motherfucker.

When he tries to get up, he realizes that his wrists are bound to something behind his back. Something warm. And moving.

When he turns his face is so close to Saru's that he nearly kisses him.

"Agh!"

Saru smirks and pecks him on the cheek. "Well, someone's happy to see me."

"You fucker!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good too, thanks for asking." He's not been injured or anything, Yata notices, although he doesn't have his glasses on, which means he can't see jack shit and is basically functionally disabled. He, Yata, and Reina are tied together back to back in a lumpish triangular shape, which is good for him—bonds and all, he's pretty sure Saru would find a way to bite his head off if he'd lost Reina. Although it's that asshole's own fault anyway for ditching his niece randomly.

"Where the hell were you? I mean, are we?"

"No clue. They knocked me out."

"Yeah, me too." Wincing, Yata pauses and gags. His mouth is incredibly dry, almost cottony feeling, and his head is throbbing. "Well, fuck."

"What?"

"We tried to get Anna to find you, but she couldn't. She said you 'weren't here.'"

"What? How's that possible?"

"I don't know. It's what she said. Kusanagi thought there might be another Strain or something blocking her."

"Great. So you don't know where we are, either."

"Glad we're on the same fucking page. Who the fuck did this anyway?"

"I don't know, but they can't be local—or particularly smart. They thought I was in HOMRA."

"…They think HOMRA wears those ugly-ass uniforms? Now I'm just insulted."

"I was in street clothes, dumbass, nobody's that stupid." He shifts, leaning back slightly, forcing Yata to bend forwards. "That girl…"

"Oh, you mean the chick going down on you like the world was about to end—"

"Don't give me that look, it's not like I even got to enjoy anything—"

"Do we really have to be talking about this now?"

"Then don't phrase things like that, Misaki. Anyway, she's working for them—she spiked me in the neck with something and the next thing I know I wake up over here. Then some dumbass comes in and asks me if I'm Saruhiko from HOMRA."

"…Did you say yes?"

"I said no, obviously, but they knew about the mark." Saru sounds perfectly calm, but Yata finds himself flushing, with anger or something else. "So then I told them I was but wasn't anymore, but they wouldn't believe me."

"So what'd they want?"

"They showed me a picture of Anna, and asked me if it was her. Of course I said no. I thought they'd give me shit for that, but they just left. Then, a couple hours later, they threw the two of you in here. How the hell did they get you guys, anyway? I thought you were supposed to be HOMRA's vanguard."

"Yeah, well, if it wasn't for you, it never would've fucking happened."

"Oh, do enlighten me."

Before Yata can explain, he feels a faint stirring to his left.

"Mlrrrr… whr… we?"

"Hey, Reina," says Saru.

"…cle Sarrrrru? 'zat you?"

And Yata prays that Saru just chalks her behavior up to the drugs, but then Saru squints, takes a sharp sniff, and asks accusingly, "…Is she drunk?"

"…It's was Kusanagi-san, I swear."

"She's like, eight."

"That's what you get when you decide to treat HOMRA like a fucking daycare center," snaps Yata a touch defensively.

"Anna turned out okay, didn't she?"

"Anna's… kind of an exceptional case."

The door bursts open and they both shut up instantly.

"Kushina Anna," the man standing there—a stranger to Yata—intones.

After a moment, Saru says, "No—see, I know he's short, but he's not actually a girl."

"Oh, fuck you—"

"Quiet," the man barks. "I'm not fucking talking to you two idiots." He stares at Reina. "Look at me, Strain."

"…slrrrr…?" says Reina.

Yata's heart kicks painfully. Oh, fuck. You've got to be kidding me.