A/n if you want the new characters backstory, refer to my art book for the character with green eyes and blue hair, ignoring the terrible drawing skills as it is already mention in the title that I can't draw.

Tamahī sat and stared for a long time. Contemplating who could possibly be in his kitchen. Well, if it wasn't Jakū, then who could it be? Unless they walked in the room soon, he would never know, because he was way too scared to go find out.

Suddenly, his memories of the night prior flashed before his eyes. Swift moving images of the club was flooding in to his mind like a river in a storm, and he had no way of stopping them. All he could do was stare in horror and embarrassment as he remembered being kissed by Jakū. Physically blushing at the thought of blacking out over something so minor.

But this felt different.

No. This wasn't just a blackout. His entire body seemed to pull him to the ground. He couldn't breath. It felt like.... like the life was being sucked out of him. Like he was getting older, but not wiser. It felt like the purity was fading from him, but experience was not to follow. It felt like he was disappearing.

He fell out of his trance of memories, and came to the realisation that he was going to have to protect himself. He quickly scanned the room for something to do so. Nothing. What was he supposed to do? Throw crisp packets at them?

Tamashī's P.O.V

What the hell do I do now?! I can't fight! Well I've got to do something to protect myself. And I can't let him get to Jakū. How can I save myself with crisp packets? Do I honestly have no weapons anywhere but the kitchen?
Dads sword! It was handed down to me in the hope of protecting me! Well, it's time for that sword to do its job.

But where did I leave it? My coat closet!

Tamashī sneaks to the front door.

*The closest door creaks* Am I dumb?! God, so stupid!

"Y'know, don't hold me to this, I'm quite unknown to home life, but aren't you supposed to accommodate for guests, or at the very least stay till your friend wakes up? I mean sneaking off and leaving your me and your friend alone is mean, don'tcha think?"

I freeze. The blood in my veins runs cold. I couldn't have been THAT loud. Not loud enough for him to hear me. His voice was low pitched but loud and confident, very amused at the thought of catching me off guard. On the other hand, he seems slightly sarcastic and yet inquisitive, as if he's not truly certain that this is true. Is he really that unfamiliar with home life not to know if I'm actually supposed to stay?

"Who said that I plan on going anywhere? It's you that shouldn't be here. This is my house, not yours, and it's not a hotel." I'm actually quite smug with my answer, if I do say so myself. It's pretty basic, and not much to be proud of, but considering how crappie I currently feel, and my current situation, I'm very proud of that. You try feeling like you had the life sucked out of you and waking up with a stranger in your house and still being able to come up with a decent line.

"Mmkay, tell me kid, why are you getting your coat if you plan to stay? Besides, is that the way you normally talk to the guy who just saved your life? Then again, I bet someone like you is used to getting rescued."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" I turn to face the scruffy looking street tramp, his glowing green eyes staring deeply into my own, like beautiful green orbs of jealousy. "I am perfectly capable of looking after myself! And for your information, I was actually looking for my sword to kick your sorry ass to the curb with. Wait. How did you save me exactly? "

"Fine. Next time, you can save yourself, mighty midget." *He slowly begins to walk away, continueing to communicate down the hall* "By the way, your sword is in the kitchen. Do you want tea?"

*Tamashī sighs heavily* "Fine. Wait, hey, you still haven't answered me yet, how did you save my life?" Why am I even chasing after him so intently? Why is he so confident and pretentious? He annoys me so much. Is he a traveller? He did say that he wasn't used to home life. But then again, he did look like a street tramp. I guess that kinda makes me feel bad for him.

"Hey, don't walk away from me like that. If you're not going to tell me how you saved me then at least tell me your name."

His glare through those perfect bulbs of fresh green earth pierce through my soul in seconds. He looks both shocked by my show of interest and annoyed at my pestering, but for some reason it feels like there's some joy there. This guy is such a social awk that it scares me. I don't like human interaction, but I at least know what it is.

"We can talk over tea" why does he never say any long words? What is it about him that's so child like?

They sit at the coffee table and the man with the green eyes and blue hair intoduces himself as Jordan Draymer. They have a long chat about Jordan and his past, discussing everything.

"So if you find it fun to kill people, then why did you save me? Why not kill me like everyone else?" Is it a bad idea to ask this? What if he kills me on the spot? I am going to die. I'm going to die and there's nothing I can do. And worse yet, I don't even get to have my life before my eyes because it already did! There's no point in seeing it twice.

"I'm not all bad, geez. And what's wrong with wanting to protect someone so innocent who has no idea what's going on? Besides, I only kill people who deserve it." Folding his pale, scarred arms and pouting his thin, cracked lips, I can't help but find his childlike ignorance adorable.

"I guess you're not as bad as you seem then." The smile on my face aches my cheeks. Why does he make me smile? He greets me with sarcasm, drinks my tea, says the food out of my cupboards, and still hasn't told me what is going on! Why am I so happy right now?! Have I lost the plot?! So many questions, so few answers.

Jordan picks up a hairbrush.

"My Mum used to have one of these prickly things! She never let me touch it. It feels so weird!" Is this guy serious?! What kind of special, neglected child has never brushed his hair before?!

I'm so nervous to talk to him for some reason. Why do I feel so much care for him? I shouldn't even care. I don't know him. He's just some strange neglected child that was nice enough to save my ass. Does he even feel as confused as I do? Well don't just sit there thinking about it, dumbass. Say something.

"Y-You're not serious, are you?" I stare intently into his eyes in the hope that he is joking. Why would I say that? What a horrible thing to say. I can tell he's not joking. What if this lowers his self esteem?

"Why wouldn't I be serious? What is this thing anyway?" He's so innocent. I can't help but to feel sorry for this little bundle of innocent pain.

"Well, you brush your hair with it. It's a hairbrush."

Tamashī gently brushes Jordans hair. He also trims his hair and gives him a fresh pair of clothes after showering him.

"You do that everyday?! How time consuming. I don't get the point of doing all that stuff." They sit down and talk for hours with multiple cups of tea.

Later on Jaku wakes up slowly

"Oh, you're awake!" The smell of vomit radiates off his person like heat from a flame. His eyes are as red and pained as a fresh stab wound. His groans as he awakens could have scared the life out of a child early into the night. Did he actually get drunk that night? Was he drunk when he kissed me? Does that mean he doesn't like me? What's going on?