There was an instant when he looked at her face, the peace there, and he hated himself and his life and the world. It took every ounce of his willpower to not collapse to the ground and sob. There was one thing he knew when they returned home: he would not suffer through the humiliation. He would not stand for the public degradation any longer. He just... wouldn't.

***

"In the back. Same as before."

Kuno nodded and carried Nabiki to the back room, where he laid her on the bed. Covering her, he kissed her on the forehead. "Good night, Nabiki-chan."

"Love you too, Dad," she mumbled before rolling over.

"It's a start," Kuno whispered, and exited the room quietly.

"She's asleep?" Irina asked when he emerged.

"Yes. She was exhausted." Kuno yawned hugely, emphasizing his answer.

Irina tsked and shook her head. "You are as well. Why don't you get some sleep? I can watch these two," she said, holding the two children.

Anatalia stood on the other side of the room, watching the exchange with some trepidation. She had been initially happy to see the pair return healthy and whole. And then she had seen the twins; she hadn't been able to find words after that.

They weren't human, and that struck a chord in her. She had wanted to look at them closer, but something held her back. She didn't think the reason was anything simple either.

"It's no burden. I'm quite used to long nights," Irina was saying as she continued her discussion with Kuno.

"We discovered, the difficult way, that bed is not large enough for the two of us," he answered, trying to come up with a reason to not lose more time with his children than he already had, even one night.

Irina thought things over for a moment, then turned to Anatalia. "Do you have any spare blankets? He can just sleep out here on the floor; the children can stay with him that way."

Kuno released an inaudible sigh of relief and nodded in agreement. "That would be acceptable."

"I'll see what I can find." Anatalia left and returned moments later with two spare blankets and a pillow stuffed with feathers. "Here, this is all we have. I hope it's enough, Tatewaki."

"That will be fine." All he really wanted was to lie down and get some rest. The blankets and pillow were unnecessary.

"I'm going to bed myself then. My husband will be back in when he's done with the animals." Anatalia set the bedding down and retreated to her room.

Kuno grabbed one blanket and unfolded it on the floor. "You may use the other. I have no need for it," he said solemnly.

"But the children..."

"They have no use for it. They do not require coddling."

Irina flinched out of habit before she realized that he was not annoyed or berating her; he was simply stating a fact. She handed each drowsy child over and watched him get comfortable on the blanket. "Tatewaki?"

"Yes?"

"That's an odd name. Where did you get it?" Irina asked, her voice at barely a whisper, and set about making her own meager bed.

"My parents, I assume. I was never informed. And my name is no odder than your own."

"I suppose not. Do you know why they named you that?" Irina continued, settling down.

"I wouldn't possibly fathom the reasons my parents had for naming me as they did."

"Tatewaki," she said hesitantly, afraid he would get mad at her, "you love the mistress, right?"

"Of course."

"Then... why would you leave her? She was terribly upset over it." Irina heard a soft gurgle followed by Tatewaki making shushing sounds. "Why would you leave those children?"

"I learned when I was young, when my mother died and I had nothing, that it is preferable to be wanted over unwanted."

Irina could hear the hurt quite plainly in his voice. "But that woman didn't love..."

"Love doesn't matter. I loved as was rejected. My mother loved us and she was killed. I have had enough of that foolish emotion."

"You don't mean that, Tatewaki. It has nothing to do with love; it's simply letting someone into your heart and then having to deal with it when... that love doesn't last. For whatever reason." Irina looked up at the simple ceiling of the house and sighed.

"If I had someone, someone I could love, I surely wouldn't reject them," Irina said with finality.

Kuno stayed quiet before finally asking, "Which is worse: to love and be rejected, or never to love?"

The answer was swift in coming. "To never love. To always have a place in you where another person takes precedence is... a most unpleasant feeling."

"So many people," Kuno said quietly, "I have given or attempted to give my love to... I have only three that do not reject me left. Though I suppose those three are better than none. I must return so I may care for my sister, lest she will leave me as well."

Irina wanted to stay quiet, preferring the silence, but her jealousy won out. "I envy you. I envy the people you care for, and that care for you. I have nothing. No one. No one cares for me. No one will ever rescue me if something should happen. Don't abandon love until you know what it's like to be without."

"I knew," he responded quietly, "what it was like. For too long. For five years I believed I was unlovable. My father abandoned me when I needed him most. Even though I... didn't like him, he was the only one I had left."

"You should never think that," Irina said, horrified. "You should never think that you are unlovable. It's just not true. What would your mother think if she heard you? Especially when you have children to think about."

"My father had children to think about. It did not slow him down in the least."

"Does that mean you want to end up like your father?"

Kuno was silent.

"Do you want to end up abandoning your children? Let them think they are unlovable? If they believe their own flesh and blood can't love them, then who can they turn to? Is that what you them to think, to feel?"

When Kuno spoke, it was barely audible. "No one. No one can love them. Not with my blood, my weakness, my... illness."

"But you can. And the mistress. And I know she loves you."

"I know as well. I heard her when she thought I was asleep. It does not change the fact that..."

"You're being a fool? Just looking for someone who will agree with you? Well, you won't find it here. No one will pity you, and no one will abandon you. Once you actually figure out that people care, you'll find it much easier to get along."

Tatewaki was a motionless lump, and Irina assumed he was ignoring her. It was his prerogative though; if that was how he wanted to be, she couldn't do anything to stop him.

"Do you understand how unfair it is that only now do I see any shred of concern from anyone?" he asked gently.

"Then take advantage of it now. Don't complain that it wasn't there before; be happy that you have it." Irina sighed. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this or why you should believe me."

"Because...you care?"

"I've told you that, but it doesn't seem to matter. The things that affect the mistress affect me. When that thing is you being unhappy, then... it falls to my shoulders. It may be foolish of me to try and help someone who wants none, but I feel obligated."

"It is foolish, but... also appreciated."

***

"Have you noticed anything odd?"

"Not to my knowledge. What is troubling you?"

Nabiki frowned as she sat with a blanket around her shoulder. "Have you... smelled anything weird?" she asked.

"I don't believe so."

"On Tomas. And Anatalia. Stop biting."

Smelled anything? That was odd for her to ask. "No, nothing strange. Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure. There's something there that I can't quite put my finger on. They don't smell alike really. Just..." Nabiki couldn't articulate it and simply shrugged.

Kuno fussily arranged the blanket to cover the two hungry children. "I have noticed nothing out of the ordinary except for how long we are staying here. I thought you were anxious to return home."

"I am, but this is really bugging me. There's some connection there and I want to find out what."

"And for how long will you allow this to consume you?"

"I'm not sure. I really want to know, but I know about the deadline. Trust me; I'm _very_ aware of it. I don't want to end up with a decoration too."

Kuno didn't answer, just sitting next to her.

Nabiki nodded firmly. "But I am going to figure this out."

Every opportunity, Nabiki watched Tomas and Anatalia together. It wasn't much, but there was something there. It didn't even look like they realized it either. Later on, she'd have to have a little talk with Anatalia.

Nabiki yawned, feeling foolish at getting tired so early; her father when to bed about the same time.

"Tell me, if you don't mind, about your children."

Anatalia stiffened, but when she spoke, her voice was firm. "I have no children."

"But you did at one time. Tell me about that."

"How..."

"You dropped plenty of hints, and unlike my taller and dumber companion, I can add two and two together. So just tell me."

Anatalia sighed. "Fine. You're right. At one point in time, I had a son, and it was... so very brief. Your circumstances compare to my own. My son... was like yours."

Nabiki nodded calmly, watching the older woman slump in a chair. "So you're..."

"Not me. The father was," she answered simply, knowing it had to be said. "I never even saw my child when they took him."

Wiping away tears, Anatalia continued without any prompting. "I knew what would happen if I didn't give in to them. And I didn't... feel much for the man..."

"Vampires," Nabiki said quietly. "You turned him in to them so you wouldn't..."

Anna nodded. "But then they took him, and I never saw him. I was no longer needed after that."

"What happened then?" Nabiki asked, getting a lot more than she had bargained for.

"I got her out of there. And it wasn't easy. They're protective of 'property' and don't like seeing it walk off." Rhodes put his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Though we were disposable, and it was too much effort to get us back."

"How long ago was this?" Nabiki asked. "How many years?" Things were shaping up finally.

"It was somewhere around..." Rhodes started to say.

"Twenty eight. It was twenty eight years. I'll never forget that. It was the second worst experience of my life," Anna said, her voice quavering.

"The second?" asked Nabiki somewhat guiltily.

Rhodes nodded, looking solemn. "The worst was the death of our son about thirteen years ago. He was only five when..."

Anna covered her face with her hands and began to weep softly.

"They came down from the mountain. A small group, but they headed straight for us. A quarter of the people in the village died that day."

Nabiki swallowed hard, regretting she had asked. "I'm sorry."

Rhodes shrugged. "It's something we won't forget; the terrible memories will always be there, whether we speak of them or not."

"They had names. They were people," Anatalia blurted out, still crying. "They never even had a chance! Tibor, killed by those things. And I know Maxim sent them!"

Gears were turning so very slowly in Nabiki's head. Too slowly; pieces weren't falling into place quickly enough for her.

"I never got to see him. But he had a name. Grigor told me it was a boy, so I named him. Even when they took him away, I called for him. I called out for my little Tomas."

Nabiki stared, open-mouthed. Without a word, she ran outside to fetch Tomas. Grabbing him by the arm, she dragged him back inside. "Here, introduce yourself and tell them where you come from," she commanded.

Tomas looked at her, extremely confused, and began to speak. "My name is Tomas. I was born and grew up in Maxim's castle until I managed to escape."

"How old are you?" Nabiki asked excitedly. Finally, she knew.

"I'll be twenty nine at the end of the warm months. Why did I just explain all this to people I don't know?"

"Because! Tomas, this is your mother!" Feeling quite proud of herself, Nabiki was positive she had discovered what had been bothering her. She slowly backed away to see what would develop.

She felt giddy, but also a bit sad that they had endured such heartbreak for so long. Surely she would never let anything like that happen to her and her children. Never. "Finally, I can go home," Nabiki said to herself.

***

"All we can do is wish you luck and hope you make it safely."

"You've already done more than enough for us. Nothing we have could possibly repay you for your hospitality." Kuno bowed deeply.

"Boy, the fact that you even found your way back here in one piece is enough for me." Rhodes disregarded the formal bow and clapped Kuno on the shoulder. "And you," he said to Tomas, "will be back, right?"

Tomas nodded. "I will."

"Good. There's still some things I think we need to talk about."

"Mistress, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Irina. You finally get to have your life. Here, where everyone is normal," Nabiki assured her.

"But I..." Irina sighed. "Of course."

"But you what? What is it?"

Kuno watched scene with a scowl on his face. It was the exact reason he had been so crushed before, and Nabiki didn't realize it in the least.

"I hope you do well, Mistress, in your life, and I hope the little ones will be safe as well," Irina said, not sounding happy at all.

"I hope you're okay too. The people here are nice; right, Kuno-chan?"

Nodding, Kuno maintained his scowl. He was torn. Keeping quiet would have been the easiest thing to do, but his conscience wouldn't really let him. Of course, if he gave in and spoke, he couldn't predict what he would say.

Nabiki saw the look on his face, then the look on Irina's face, and knew she was missing something. She sighed before saying, "All right, spit it out. Tell me what's going on."

Fortunately for Kuno, Irina was the first to speak. "I... I can't stay here, Mistress. I can't stay in a place I don't know, with no one who... I..." She looked away, ashamed that she was so weak, putting her needs before Nabiki's. "I've become... rather used to taking care of you. And your little ones."

Nabiki looked at Kuno to see his scowl had turned into a frown. Irina looked something between terribly ashamed, frightened, and hopeful, making Nabiki feel all the more confused. "You have... no place to go?" she asked.

Irina shook her head.

"Then... what will you do?"

"I don't know, Mistress."

"Nabiki," Kuno said sharply, drawing her attention.

She looked over at him, shrugging helplessly. "She took care of me, Kuno-chan."

The words pierced him to his core. The one thing he was most afraid of. Kuno hung his head. "And I could not."

Nabiki was kicking herself; there was no way she should have missed all these signs. They were things she would normally catch... when she didn't have two babies to worry about. "Kuno-chan," he began quietly, "I would still be in that castle if you hadn't shown up to rescue me."

"Or dead," added Irina.

"I would definitely not be here with these two, ready to go home, if it weren't for you. You took care of me when I needed it."

"Then why..." he suddenly blurted out and wished he hadn't.

But Nabiki knew what he wanted to ask. "Without her, I wouldn't be around for you to save," she said quietly. "You have no idea what happened there, and I hope you never do. I needed her because I didn't know that... I needed you. There. I said it. Are you happy now?"

Kuno looked at her flatly. "Do I have to be?"

"Yes." Nabiki sighed after a moment, wondering why she had to be the adult. "Irina, what do you want?"

"To... to..." She looked Nabiki in the eye. "To come with you, to leave this place, to be around someone I know, to have security... To have a new life."

"And you want me to do all of this?"

"No, of course not. I just want you to... give me my own opportunity to do it." Irina released a breath, not sure what she could say to convince the two. "The things I told you, don't they mean anything to you?"

"You... lived without your family?"

Irina nodded. "All I want is," she said quietly, looking at the family, "to have a family that I can take care of and be a part of. You're the closest think to that I've had since I lost my own."

Kuno maintained his frown, but felt his attitude begin to soften. It had been a little rocky at first, but it seemed the woman had warmed to him a bit, even if it was only for Nabiki's sake. Yet, her words from the other night refused to leave him. Surely not all of that had been for Nabiki's sake.

A shred of concern... he had showed that and he had opened up like an overripe melon with his secrets pouring out. Maybe it was foolish of him to care, even more foolish of her, but if she believed there was something for him in the world, then maybe... he could believe it too.

"You would come with us to a place you do not know, people you barely know, and begin again?" he asked, seeing Nabiki look at him with a surprised expression on her face.

"It would be no different than here," she answered simply. "And I have grown fond, quite fond, of all four of you. For me, to see you interact is... something I didn't think I would see again. Hope and life..."

Something small and terrified in Nabiki didn't want to let the woman go. The person that had protected her... "I..." she started, not really sure what to say.

"You're young, Mistress. Surely you could use help with the children. Or the cooking... I'm quite capable," Irina insisted.

That hit a nerve in Nabiki, and when she looked at Kuno again, she could tell he understood it too. Someone who could take care of the children while she was at school, or just to help out. And she wouldn't feel used or exploited... Who only wanted the chance to live in relative freedom, with people she cared about. "Why us?" Nabiki asked. "Why not one of the ones before?"

"It's... hard to explain. The others were... less real. They were ghosts, nothing to live for. And neither did I. Maybe I still don't, but you do."

Kuno sighed and tried to make himself invisible. He probably did owe the woman for keeping Nabiki from irreparable harm, if not death. If she asked him, he would have to give in to her request.

"I guess I..." Nabiki started to say, looking at Kuno and finding nothing helpful there. "Do..."

"I owe you for her safety," Kuno broke in, taking charge finally. "I am at your service. Anything you ask of me, I will do my best to fulfill."

Nabiki looked at him, surprised, but knew that he didn't have a choice. And it was the easiest way to take the responsibility of the matter out of both their control.

"Tale me out of this place. Please... I'm begging you," was Irina's immediate reply.

"Then we will go." He didn't even look at Nabiki to see her reaction. It wouldn't have changed anything.

The goodbyes were short and simple. There was little that had not already been said, but Kuno had one last thing to say to Tomas.

"When we are gone, the portal..."

"I will talk to Tasha's father. It will be closed, and..."

"We'll never be back here again," Nabiki added without emotion.

"No turning back," Tomas agreed. "I know you didn't find what you were looking for, but... I hope you realize how much good came out of all this." He held out his hand. "I don't think it would have happened without you."

Kuno took his hand and shook it firmly. "It would be a lie for me to say I will miss this place. But some events here have made me a better person." He glanced at Nabiki who was holding the children. "And things have made my life... worth living."

"Take care of them. It's a precious gift, and one you may never get again." Tomas let Kuno pull his hand away, and held up his own in a silent farewell.

Kuno reciprocated, followed by a short bow from Nabiki and a firm nod by Irina.

And then the five stepped through the portal.