A.N. Don't worry, I'm not abandonning Catch Me. In fact the next chapter is in the works. Its just taking sooooo loooooooong. Also, look forward to the fic I took over for Synth Neko, coming soon! This is a pretty rough story right now. The plan is to put it up on get farther into the story, then go back and edit lines I don't like, etc.

I'm pretty happy with this chapter. Expect multi-chapters. And bug me for updates. I like it. :)

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City

Chapter 1:1

There was a man coming down the street towards him. A gaijin in an unbuckled straitjacket, with white hair and dripping blood.

He walked jerkily down the curb of the street like a rabid dog, crooked then straight again. Nagi brushed his hand against his thigh. And against his knife. He would defend himself the best he could if it came to it. He couldn't leave his post, though. He was getting payed for standing here.

The gaijin man stumbled and fell into the gutter. He didn't get up, and after a few minutes with no sign of life Nagi sighed in relief. He wasn't into up-close encounters. They left him feeling jittery and weak. Much better to crush the opponent from a distance.

"You don't bleed that much and keep walking down the street." the hobo laying in the dorrway behind mumbled, mirroring Nagi's thoughts exactly. "When's Kaoru getting back. He owes me fer lettin' you stay here on my corner." The bum coughed a bit and took a drag of his cigarette.

"I don't know." Nagi replied quietly.

"Well, you just remind him to pay me, eh boy." The bum pulled his coat tighter around himself. "You're drivin' away my customers, fag-boy. I don't need kids in skirts hangin' around in front of my store."

The 'store.' An underworld Wall-mart with a shop assistant on every other block. Where all the dark beasts could by a cheap hit, or get hooked up with a whore, or get a few weapons, or buy information, or find their next target. And every slob who started his own little corner store got payed both by their clients and the men who funded the 'Store.' The catch was any man who ran his store had to supply it, too. Not a great living, but better then sleeping in doorways.

Nagi ignored the bum. Down the street the gaijin was staggering to his feet. And Kaoru's car was coming down the street the other way.

"'Bout fuckin' time." the bum grumbled. "He better have some good money for me."

The gaijin started walking with that same jerky determination toward the corner where Nagi stood.

The car, a sleek baby blue limo, pulled up in front of Nagi and the window lowered. Kaoru stuck his head out and with a lazy grin called Nagi in closer. Nagi lowered his head to the window.

"Hey Na. Thanks for waiting here for me. Nice skirt" Behind him his sluts giggled. 'Ooh is that a boy? He's cute! In a skirt.' Kaoru and Nagi ignored them. "Did you bring it?" Kaoru was almost breathless in anticipation. Nagi pulled a plastic bag filled with white powder out of his shirt.

"You're the best, man." Kaoru handed him a handfull of bills. Nagi counted them quickly, 20,000 yen. Good pay, but he'd had better. "And give this to the store." Kaoru handed over another 1,000.

Nagi straightened and turned to go. Kaoru motioned at the driver and the car inched away. Before it rounded the corner again Kaoru yelled out the window.

"Watch out for the creepy guy over there!" Nagi looked at the gaijin. He was only about five meters away. He was staggering so much, he couldn't be much of a threat. He looked like he could barely stand. Then he turned back to the bum and threw the bills at him.

"Your pay." He said. He pushed his share into his shirt, into the same pocket he kept his other valuables when wearing his work clothes. While he was fixing his shirt he got a closer look at the gaijin.

So much white. White hair, white skin, white straitjacket, white pants. And, Nagi noticed with some sympathy, no shoes. His feet were embedded with broken glass and rocks. And he had an eyepatch. He was also drenched in blood and gutter water. Nagi pulled out his knife.

When the gaijin was about two meters from Nagi he fell to his knees on the ground. He stared forward dully at some point past Nagi's knees. A door slammed to Nagi's right, the store man making a hasty retreat, and Nagi wished he'd done the same while he had the chance. If the man got violent it was doubtful he could defend himself. The gaijin was fairly petite compared to most of the other foreigners Nagi had seen, but Nagi was still much smaller than him. A childhood of malnutrition, alcohol, and drugs had left him skeletally thin.

"Please. Help me." Raspy english. Nagi didn't know enough to understand more than 'please.'

"Wakarimasen." I don't underatand. "Gomen-ne." I'm sorry. 'Why couldn't you have chosen someone else. I can't understand what you're saying, and I know you can't understand me.'

The gaijin's brow creased with a horrible sort of dissapointment. He continued to stare at that spot just beyond Nagi's legs.

"Please. I'm hungry." Nagi watched with only mild sympathy as the man doubled over with a coughing fit and finally vomited a pool of blood on the ground in front of him.

"You should clean that yourself up. It's disgusting." To the gaijin, a string of syllables and apathy.

The man stayed hunched over with his arms around his waist. Neither moved for a long moment, then Nagi walked down the street past the man and back to his apartment.

It wasn't until later that morning he realized that as he'd left the man was crying.