They stand facing each other, one on either side of the doorway like the mirror images they are. They look nothing alike - one blond, cold, tall, the other a long-haired teenage boy in jeans and jean-jacket. Still they manage to be mirrored. There's nothing between them in the doorway except anger, dislike, and the thought of their Attuned.

They've both taken him into their protection - a wild-eyed, loud-voiced Ofanite of Creation, barely able to stand still long enough to perform the music he loves so much. Hiro, Cherub of Destiny, has known him since they were both barely fledged. He's been the easy-going straight-man for the Ofanite since before Eli left. He's been beside him, flirting with the girls who don't approach the Wheel, helping him not give up.

Conversely, Yuki, Djinn of Lust, has barely known Shuichi at all. A few days, a few hours of sex, a few carefully-aimed insults slung at the Wheel. Shuichi bounces back, of course; he always does. He takes the insults as a challenge, an audience to win over. (Though Shuichi claims it's to make Yuki eat his words. Hiro knows better). Hiro knows that a creature like this can't - won't - love. Won't, no, that's the better word. He knows Shuichi wants Yuki to. He knows Yuki will hurt Shuichi before this is done.

He knows Yuki has attuned.

He knows where Shuichi's heart lies, other than his music.

And so he bows, stiffly, in front of the Djinn, passing head-first into his house.

"Please take care of him."