Author's Note: Story is rated for implied violence and mentioned rape. It's in this section because of the story it follows.

So far, the night had been silent, but Randy "Ryo" McLean knew the silence would soon be ended. Several anonymous phone calls had been received at the station in the early morning hours, claming there was a drug house in the warehouse district. Many people were seen entering and leaving this one particular location on a daily basis, and suspicions in the area were rising. The locals wanted whatever was in the warehouse out so they could get back to their daily routines without the fear of all hell breaking loose once the local gangs got word of the place.

As a result of the phone calls, Commissioner Rose wanted the place under surveillance, and he confided to Ryo he believed Ed Nielson was back with the cartel. One of the phone calls received complained about screaming coming from within the location, as if someone inside was being tortured, possibly even raped. It would almost be like Ed to have a minor holed up in the place, and it was that one idea alone that sent Ryo into action. He did not want Ed getting away for a second time or however many times the man walked. Too much was a stake. The sandy-haired detective watched as his partner walked towards the building, Dee's hands stuffed into his jeans pockets.

"Hey, Ryo . . . can you hear me?"

Dee's voice was low, almost as if he did not want anyone to know he was talking to someone. Ryo sat a little straighter in his chair and glanced at the monitor. Dee had been hooked up with a pocket video camera and a wire so they could capture everything he saw and heard. The front door of the warehouse appeared on Ryo's screen.

"Yeah, loud and clear, Dee."

"Good, because this place is a little freaky. I'm not seeing anyone outside."

"I see that, too. It's a little odd, but maybe they're not expecting anything from us."

"Could be," Dee said. "I'm still not liking this, though. Is everyone ready?"

"As ready as we need to be. What's the word?"

"Come in when I say Shindou. No one will be expecting that."

Ryo rolled his eyes and shook his head, the trouble word not surprising him in the least. "Shindou" was the last name of a singer from Japan. His full name, from Ryo understood, was Shuichi Shindou, and the young man fronted for a band called Bad Luck. Dee had discovered their music some time ago after he and Ryo had gone into Chinatown one night. Someone was playing Bad Luck's music as loud as possible, and the Japanese techno pop hooked Dee.

"Okay. I'm almost at the door. Here goes nothing."

Ryo leaned forward as Dee knocked on the door of the warehouse, his heart starting to beat loudly. If this was the cartel in action, they would have solid evidence against Ed Nielson to put him away for several years, and that was one thing Ryo was hoping for against all hopes.

The door to the warehouse creaked open, and the person on the other side allowed Dee entry after a few moments of talking. From what Ryo could see from the feed, the place was trashed. Pizza boxes, beer bottles, soda cans, and Chinese to-go containers littered the floor, but no one in the room seemed to mind the mess. They simply continued to laugh and smoke and drink as Dee was led further inside the building. The man who greeted Dee then introduced him to a man called Taki.

Ryo frowned as Taki appeared on the monitor. For starters, he was not what Ryo was expecting. Taki was definitely Japanese, but he did not have the appearance of a drug dealer or a pimp. There was something very familiar about the man, something Ryo could not quite place, and it bothered him to feel that way. Taki's appearance caused the entire situation to feel off, and an icy sensation settled into the pit of Ryo's stomach. He wanted to scream at Dee to get out of there, but he knew he could not do any such thing. If he did, he risked the chance of Ed Nielson getting away, and Ryo did not want that, either. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and waited for Dee to give the word.

Unfortunately, the word never came. The moment Taki was introduced to Dee, shots were fired, and the Japanese man fell to the ground. The camera attached to Dee jerked, but by that point, Ryo was no longer paying any attention. He was out of his seat and running towards the warehouse along with several other cops.

As he ran into the warehouse, Ryo's only thoughts were of Dee. Was he all right? Had he been shot by this mysterious gunman? His emotions were in turmoil as he raced through the door. The people inside were scrambling to get out of the way and past Ryo, but the sandy-haired detective paid no attention to them. They were not going far, anyway, not with the building surrounded as it was. He searched for the one person who meant the entire world to him, but Ryo did not see Dee anywhere. At least, he did not see Dee until he looked up and saw the dark-haired man on a higher tier of the building, crouching down. Instinctively, Ryo ran to his partner's side as quickly as he could, worry for Dee's welfare flooding his senses.

"Dee!"

His partner spared him a quick glance over the shoulder and motioned with one hand to stay back. Dee looked sick, and when he got close enough to see, Ryo understood why.

In the corner huddled a young man with dark hair. Bruises and blood marred his face and peppered his arms and legs, and the clothes he wore were covered in filth, blood, and sweat. He looked half-starved, if the way his clothes hung off his body were an indication. A dark crimson trail flowed between him and Dee, and it was obvious as to what had happened to him. The young man also had a gun pointed at Dee, his arms trembling. Ryo immediately holstered his gun, not wanting to give the young man a reason to shoot again.

"Dee . . ."

"The gun is emptied out, Ryo," the dark-haired man murmured. "He filled that Taki guy up good, though I daresay that bastard's probably still alive. I just don't dare get too close to him yet. He's too damned scared."

"I can't say I blame him," Ryo murmured, his gaze on the young man. He picked up on what Dee was not saying. "What's the problem?"

"Language barrier. He isn't responding to anything I'm saying. I don't think he understands English."

"Or if he does, it's not comprehending just yet." Ryo crouched next to his partner and held out a hand. The young man regarded him with great suspicion, and Ryo spoke softly to him, though in Japanese. Why, he could not say. It was just a whim on his part.

"It's all right. We're not going to hurt you. We're police officers."

The voice that spoke was not even a voice. It was a bare whisper, as if talking hurt the young man, and the puzzle was starting to fit even more into place. The screaming the locals had been hearing were from this young man alone.

"Police?"

"Yes." Ryo nodded. "Police. We're here to help."

What little bit of strength the young man had left drained from him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and the gun clattered to the floor. Both Ryo and Dee were then moving to his side, each undoubtedly hoping he was still alive.

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"It doesn't look good," the doctor was saying. "His body's endured a great deal of stress. It's a wonder he's even alive right now."

Dee stared at the young man laying in the hospital bed while his partner talked to the doctor, rage boiling beneath the surface. He knew it did not look good for the young man, knew it before the doctor could even breathe the sentence out. Multiple instances of rape from God only knew how many assailants as well as bruises and possible internal bleeding, and the kid was almost dead from starvation. It would be a miracle if he lived through the night.

The dark-haired detective let out a heavy sigh as he took in the oxygen machine, the I.V.s with their nutrients and antibiotics, and the monitors hooked up to the kid, and he silently cursed the locals for not making the phone calls sooner. If they had, this kid would not be in a near comatose state and fighting for his life at that moment. He would have been rescued sooner, treated, and back in Japan with his family, and it nauseated Dee to think of how much the younger man had suffered during that time. Silently, he moved over to the bed, his stomach still churning.

The sad part of the whole situation, he realized, was he knew who this kid was. Dee had recognized him the moment he saw him on the balcony with a gun pointed directly at Taki and firing away, wild fear driving him into insane actions. He just could not figure out how or why such a thing had even happened to the singer, and Dee exhaled heavily again as he leaned in close.

"Don't worry, Shuichi," he whispered into the singer's ear. "I'll make sure you get home and that Taki pays for everything he's done to you. I promise."

Dee then pulled away and rose to his feet. He would step outside to make some phone calls and have a cigarette, but he would return as quickly as he could. Shuichi needed someone at his side, so he would not have to face a long night by himself. It was the last thing Dee wanted for the singer. Ryo gazed in concern at him, a light frown on the sandy-haired man's face.

"Dee?"

"Stay with him for right now, Ryo. There's some stuff I need to do, ok? I'll be back in a few minutes. I promise."

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"There's a certain kind of beauty to this."

Ryo raised an eyebrow at that comment. The one who had said, a man by the name of Tohma Seguchi, wore a sad smile on his face, and his hands were clasped around the ones belonging to Shuichi Shindou.

When Dee first told him who the young man was, Ryo did not want to believe him. In his opinion, it would have been impossible for Taki to have kidnapped a high profile celebrity like Shuichi Shindou and not create an international manhunt for the singer. He thought his partner was simply being "star" crazy, until he learned Shuichi Shindou had been kidnapped four weeks before, and his boss, Tohma Seguchi, was offering a hefty reward for his safe return. Tohma, a very formidable man, in Ryo's opinion – something about the way Tohma looked at people inspired chills in the sandy-haired detective – had insisted upon D.N.A. testing to confirm it really was Shuichi, and he had appeared to be quite crestfallen when the results were sped back to them with a positive identification. It was Shuichi Shindou in the hospital bed, fighting for his life, and both men stood next to the singer, hoping he would continue to keep breathing and living for one more night. That was what Shuichi had been doing since his rescue five nights prior.

"A certain kind of beauty to this?" Ryo echoed. Tohma nodded.

"Yes . . . To Shuichi . . . he looks so peaceful."

Ryo glanced at the small form laying in the hospital bed, still hooked to an I.V. machine, oxygen, and several monitors. The bruises were only now starting to fade away, but Shuichi still appeared pale and very unhealthy. Still, he could not dispute Shuichi's breathing was deeper, more even than when he was first admitted, but Ryo had also noted the change the moment Tohma first stepped into the room. It was as if Shuichi had been waiting for him. A light smile touched Ryo's lips, and he nodded his agreement. He could see the beauty Tohma had just mentioned.

"He does look peaceful."

'I just hope this doesn't end with his death.'