"I'm curious," Kuroko started as we dug into our food, "How far does your knowledge about events go, exactly?"

I pondered for a moment, idly chewing on the buttery crab meat. I might've taken longer than usual to answer, but that was only because the food was hella good, and it wasn't polite to talk with your mouth full.

"Unfortunately, not very far," I replied, swallowing hard. "The manga didn't do a great job of tracking time. It mostly took place during the summer, and it didn't seem to be changing anytime soon. I'd say we have another month of somewhat predictable events. After that," I shrugged, "I honestly have no idea."

"Hm." Kuroko poked at her pasta with a fork, expression pensive. "Anything catastrophic we need to prepare for?"

I scratched my chin in thought, mulling over everything I knew. Eventually, I shrugged.

"I wouldn't call it catastrophic, especially since Kii's already been taken care of," I replied. "There might be a couple of things that could get worse if we don't address them, but most of those issues have already been solved, and I'm working on preventing them from happening again."

Kuroko nodded. "That's good to hear; a couple less things to worry about. You'll have to keep me informed, regardless. Later, though."

"Mhm," I grunted in the affirmative, as my mouth was full. Once I swallowed, I continued, "You don't want me to tell you now?"

"No," Kuroko replied, shaking her head before sipping her wine. "If they're not a pressing issue, let's discuss them later. For now, I'm curious..." She paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "In this manga, what does it reveal about my past?"

"Nothing at all," I replied instantly. "There was never anything about Enkidu, Katsumi Katsuragi, or even the Far Side revealed. Information about the outside world was hard to come by, at best." My gaze dropped. "So no, I don't know what you went through. But based on what I have read, I can make an educated guess or two."

"Like?" Kuroko said that conversationally, but I could sense an edge to her tone that wasn't usually there.

"I believe you have some connection to Katsumi Katsuragi - it could be that she was your mother or perhaps an older sister. Whatever you saw Enkidu do, it must have been powerful enough to make you commit to aiding liminals. However, I don't want to make any presumptions."

Kuroko remained silent for a while, intent on finishing her food before it cooled. I followed suit, trying to make the silence more bearable. Unfortunately, the taste of the food had become somewhat muted in the heavy atmosphere, though I'm sure that was just my anxiousness playing tricks on me. I was beginning to worry that I had gone too far when she finally spoke.

"You're mostly right," Kuroko said as she set down her freshly-emptied wine glass, her expression becoming worn from the strain of the words. "She was my mother. She was also responsible for destroying the lives of millions."

I stayed silent.

"Only a handful of people know my full story. It's a long one, and mostly sad, but..." Kuroko gave a half-smile, though the expression seemed forced, "Heh, you know, I haven't had to talk about it for a while now."

"You don't have to tell me."

Kuroko looked up, surprised I'd spoken, but she quickly snorted.

"Please, don't say anything like that now, especially when we're working together to rebuild the Cultural Exchange," she scolded. "It'll take some time, but we can make it work. Make yourself comfortable, Romance Master. I want to tell you why I'm so passionate about liminals, but it's hard to explain how bad things were for a while there..."

Flashback: years earlier

When I was still a tiny, naive child, I had two liminals as my maids. They were both very kind and hardworking, always smiling warmly. My mother was often too busy to look after me, so she hired them to care for me in those early years. I didn't even realize that they were different from me back then, even when I was playing with Kitty's cat ears and Flopsy's bunny ears.

Yes, those were the names I had given them. Mother had never given me their real names and even encouraged me to keep calling them those childish names. It didn't matter what they thought about it.

I adored them both - those cute, cuddly kittens and bunnies that every little girl loves. Even though I don't remember much of my time spent with them, their smiling faces, though likely forced, remain etched in my memory. One conversation I had with them stands out in particular when I first truly understood something:

"Where are my ears?" I asked, patting my head in confusion. Kitty giggled softly, as always, and lovingly scooped me up in her arms.

"Right here, little kitten," she'd answered, poking my ears.

"But yours are up here!" I patted my head again. "Why?"

"Because you and I are different," Kitty had said, that same damn vacant smile still plastered on her heart-shaped face, "You are our master, and we are your devoted servants. That's the way it's meant to be."

"B-but..." I'd beamed at her, "I want cute ears like you! I wanna be cute and nice and pretty, just like you, Kitty!"

"Hush, little kitten," she chided softly, cradling me in her arms as she carried me into my playroom. "You mustn't say things like that, especially when Mistress is here." Back then, I was scared because Kitty's words seemed more urgent and pleading than usual.

"But I wanna!" I'd pouted, "Can you teach me how to get cute ears like you?! I promise I'll be good and learn super well! Please, please, please?!"

Kitty's hands trembled as she reluctantly carried me away. My heart was heavy as I watched her leave, not understanding why I had been abandoned. I screamed out in anguish, tears streaming down my face. Suddenly, Flopsy was there to comfort me, gently scooping me up in her arms and whispering soothing words until my tears had dried.

That was when I first realized we were different. Funny how it always takes so long for us to learn something so obvious.

Beyond that, I vividly recall the day they ceased caring for me. It was only one week after that occurrence, to be precise. Mother had come to my playroom instead of them, informing me that Kitty and Flopsy would no longer be with me. When I had enquired about why, she had uttered words that perplexed me, such as "faulty" and "damaged." I could not comprehend how a person could be damaged, as that had only transpired to toys, but I had faith in Mother. She had never been wrong before.

After that, I never heard anything about Kitty and Flopsy ever again. Well, I shouldn't say never... but that would be skipping ahead.

I had many maids after that, but none possessed the same cute and fluffy bunny and kitty ears that I had grown so fond of. I recall spending countless hours in tears, throwing my toys at the unfortunate maids, calling them ugly, and wishing that Kitty and Flopsy would return to me.

Please don't give me that sympathetic look, Aki. All kids are brats.

It was 1997, I'm sure when the maids stopped coming for good. On my seventh birthday, my mother invited her closest friends to celebrate with me. Jamie, with his quirky half-smile and horn-rimmed glasses, was there. Conrad, who had often gifted me with peculiar trinkets and artifacts, called them his "trophies."

The thought that one of them might have been my father had never occurred to me until much, much later.

Then there were the other two. Titan and Beholder. You saw the picture, didn't you? You can probably guess as to what they were, then.

Titan had a mysterious intensity about him that left me in awe. All of the giants had their way of showing their devotion to Mother, but Titan was the most ardent of them all. I never knew the reason behind his unyielding loyalty, but something had happened between them in their youth that had caused him to be so devoted. He treated me like royalty and was so respectful that he never dared to touch me without being instructed.

As for Beholder, her face always seemed empty and devoid of life. She had a single eye, a trait which made her intimidating and caused me to feel uneasy, even among other monoeyes. She never looked me in the eye, which I now understand was likely due to her fear of me. My mother always joked when I expressed discomfort with Beholder, telling me she was just "strange like that."

Beholder's eye twitched a little whenever Mother said that.

No matter what, those four were her core group, with others coming and going around them. It was an unusual family, one that had caused much pain and agony to many, but still, it was a family. They always stayed together until the very end.

Sorry, I strayed from the topic a bit, didn't I? These are memories that I haven't thought about in a long, long time, so please forgive me if I get a bit sentimental. Even though they may seem a bit harsh now, they contributed to who I am today, and for that, I'm grateful.

Right, my seventh birthday. I'd just blown out my birthday cake candles when Mother gave me the news.

"Kuroko, you've grown up so much," she said with a tone of significance, "and it's time for you to start your journey outside this house."

I was overjoyed. I had grown tired of the maids, whom I could never seem to appreciate, and I often found myself gazing out the windows and into the lush jungles beyond our walls, wondering what they contained. I wanted to discover if there were lions and tigers and bears out there and play with them. I told this to my mother, and she chuckled.

"And you will," she promised, her sapphire eyes twinkling with a thousand dreams, "and even more than that. Conrad will take you to a place full of wonders and surprises but don't forget that this isn't just for fun. One day, you will be the proud heir of all I've worked tirelessly for. One day, you will be the most powerful woman in the world." She tenderly caressed my cheek, and I felt I could do anything.

I had no idea what she meant. All I knew up until that point was that she was wealthy and had significant influence. I didn't seek power; I just wanted to explore the world. Little did I know my wish would be granted.

A month later, I was on a plane to Namibia. Have you ever been there? No? Good. Nothing there but sand and more sand.

While I was there, a war erupted between the government and some insurgents fighting for their independence. Such conflicts are still common in Africa, which made it the ideal place for Enkidu to conduct its operations without drawing attention. I remember feeling overwhelmed by the heat and the sand when I set foot in the region. The enormous dunes seemed to move with the wind, and the sand particles found their way into the tiniest crevices of my clothing, causing an unbearable itch.

Conrad reveled in the heat, wearing only a tank top and shorts, seemingly embracing the sun's rays as they bathed his skin. His joyous laughter at my worries only confirmed my suspicions that he was mentally unbalanced.

The compound we ventured into was subterranean, its entrance concealed within an immense dune that remained all around it; the desert sands shifted and changed. I held Conrad's muscular and hirsute hand so tightly that my fingers grew pale as we navigated further. Dozens of stern-faced guards stood rigidly at attention as we passed them, saluting Conrad and bowing their heads in my direction. I was bewildered why they paid me such respect since I had never encountered them.

Such was the immense influence of the Katsuragi name. They called my mother, in Enkidu, "The Asura of Steel." It was a title that she had more than deserved, albeit a bit over the top.

Either way, I was scared and bewildered. Why had Mother sent me to such an unfamiliar place where no one was even smiling? Why hadn't she come with me? The only face I recognized was Conrad's, but even he seemed different from his usual cheerful self, issuing strict instructions to the guards. Nevertheless, he was the only one I knew, and so I desperately clung to him for a sense of security.

We eventually arrived in a grandly adorned room, brimming with furniture of ivory and arachne silk. Little did I know at the time that the material was arachne silk. Seated in the room was a prominent African man with a smile that outwardly conveyed warmth and hospitality. He introduced himself as the manager of Enkidu's West African branch and stated that he was "delighted beyond delight" that his "humble home" was my first stop on a "tour" of which I had no prior knowledge. I held my tongue, however, due to Conrad's earlier warning to remain silent unless instructed otherwise.

He then inquired whether I would like to accompany him and a few others on an "excursion" into the desert to observe how business was conducted there. I had no clue what he was referring to, and I was considerably hesitant to once again venture into the appalling desert. Still, after Conrad urged me fervently, I eventually acquiesced.

We ventured into the desert in a convoy of three jeeps filled with men armed to the teeth. I'd never seen so many guns, which made me uneasy. I felt a sense of security as I sat in Conrad's lap, with his strong arms securely wrapped around me.

"Uncle Connie, why do they have all those guns?" I'd asked him.

"To defend themselves," he'd answered.

"From what?"

"You'll see."

After passing a military checkpoint, we drove through the desolate wilderness for an hour before arriving at a ravine. Conrad urged me to remain silent as the men around us started to arrange their gear around the jeeps. Among the group of three, I noticed that they were not doing anything to help; instead, they were merely fussing over their hunting rifles and discussing how they were fortunate to be upwind and other trivial matters.

The setup took a long time, and I'd almost fallen asleep when Conrad lightly shook me.

He softly whispered, "Do you see that cave over there?" I nervously nodded in response, following his gaze to the small cave at the ravine's edge.

"Watch what comes out, Kuroko, and don't look away from it no matter what. That's what your mater wants, okay?"

I nodded again.

One of the men, with Conrad's approval, raised a tube and pointed it toward the cave's entrance. He fired a canister inside, and gas soon poured out of the cave. A low, menacing growl echoed through the air, sending a chill down my spine despite the sweltering heat. Heavy footsteps followed the growl, and suddenly a figure emerged from the cave that I will never forget.

It moved with an eerie human-like gait, yet its appearance was anything but human. Its body was covered with thick plates and scales of muddy hue while a long, thick tail swept behind it. Though it was nowhere near as large as Titan, I could tell it would easily tower over any other men standing with us. Its claws were thick as my arm, and the sight of them made me shudder. It was a creature I would never forget.

It... He was a gbahali, one of the larger subspecies of lizardfolk native to Liberia, more like a crocodile than a lizard. It was a stroke of luck for Enkidu that he had become separated from his enclave, for it provided them with a perfect opportunity.

The men opened fire without hesitation, most of which the gbahali shrugged off as if it were nothing. A couple of bullets, however, managed to find their mark, tearing through the thin fabric of his tattered clothing and burying themselves into the brown, fleshy skin of his chest. He screamed in agony and lunged forward, ready to charge at them.

It was interesting to see how, despite his supposedly monstrous features, the only thing I could focus on was his face. He was strikingly similar to one of the Namibians in our group; if it weren't for the scales on his cheeks and the pointed, squat ears, they could've easily been mistaken for family.

Despite his formidable strength, the gbahali did not survive for long. He was trapped in tightly woven nets, which restricted his movements and allowed hunters to aim at him as he struggled to break free. The toxic gas that filled the air must have weakened him further, leaving him sluggish and unable to escape.

Not to say he didn't cause any destruction. With a single powerful throw, he had launched a boulder crashing into one of the jeeps, obliterating it and the unfortunate driver within. Unfortunately, a few of the men, including one of the pompous hunters who must have been looking for a bit of an adrenaline rush, had ventured too close and were ripped apart by his terrifying claws.

Apologies if my description lacks emotion. Don't misconstrue my words as if the events had no significance. I can only tell this story by detaching myself from it as if it were happening to someone else instead of me.

But...in the end, he lost. He slumped to the ground, breathing heavily as the red liquid of life began to pour out into the ravine. For a moment, our eyes locked, and I was struck by, of all things, the deep brown hue of his eyes. They were identical to my own. Despite all the horror I was expected to feel, I couldn't look away. Instead, a profound sadness that I had never experienced before, even when my beloved maids were taken away from me, washed over me.

Conrad looked at me with determination as he and the hunters marched determinedly toward the weakening gbahali. "This is what your mother and I have been striving to achieve for so long," he said. "We take on a task that no one else is brave enough to do. These creatures can be dangerous to our lifestyle, and we must act fast to stop them before they can harm us."

I was at a loss as to what I should believe. Conrad's words seemed dubious to me, even then. It became apparent that what I was witnessing was wrong when I heard the final gunshot that ended the Gbahali's life.

I was only seven years old when I took my first steps into the world of Enkidu. My mother probably thought it was best to introduce me to the family business at a young age so that I would grow accustomed to it and accept it as the norm. Unfortunately for her, that proved to be a miscalculation.

Until then, though... would you kindly pass me some more wine?

To be continued...