Hello :D

I'm trying to keep these updates regular! Sorry, really trying not to let things pile up too much but you know when you just feel exhausted with everything... Thank you so, so much for reading this, for the reviews and faves/follows, all very much appreciated I can assure you! Please enjoy...

I don't own sensei's characters, only mine. Sorry for any mistakes :S

Warnings: Use of drugs, swearing maybe I can't remember.

}xXx{

It's the sharp clack sound of metal on metal that awakens Akihito, eyes flying wide before a sharp pain immediately threatens to steal his consciousness away again. He winces, remembering the burst of pain he had felt upon leaving the office before falling into the darkness that had ultimately claimed him. The photographer groans at the dizziness overwhelming his senses and the sick feeling deep in his stomach from the intense throb emanating from the large, bloody and bruised lump forming on the left side of his head.

It seems the heavy, blunt object had struck him Just above the temple, any lower and he may have been killed. He's lucky.

Lucky?

That confused line of thought is interrupted by low, amused laughter echoing sinisterly off of the dark, cold tile walls. More clack, clack, clacking of metallic objects being set down onto a gleaming surface draws Akihito's attention and he turns his head, pained squinting eyes straining to see what's going on, trying to see where he is -

He wonders why he's strapped tightly to a surgical bed.

His breath starts a hitching a little at the revelation, feverishly fearful eyes fighting through the aching discomfort of the stark fluorescent lighting to find the source of the chillingly familiar laughter and the foreboding noise of - he spots it. The stainless steel table next to him, a hole riddled bloody blue cloth draped over the table top that's holding a variety of sharp and jagged blades and pincers. Surgical implements that are to his horror - still bloody from what he hopes and prays wasn't from use on him. A quick sweep over his body with panicked eyes reveals nothing, he's fine for now. But why is he here?

"…Well, you're awake…..and about time too, we're fast running out of time."

"Yu-Yuri-sensei, what-?

"Ssh Takaba…call me Eduard. Eduard Arbatov-sensei."

Arbatov emphasises the 'sensei' with a deep, amused chuckle as he takes a seat on the tall wooden stool next to Akihito's bed. The man folds his arms, his large body still dressed in his doctors coat and he's sat uncomfortably close to Akihito who has to crane his neck painfully to be able to make eye contact with the giant. The one who is watching him closely with a small, pleased smirk.

Akihito breathes through the weight of those words and tries to gather his thoughts, slow his erratic pulse. Arbatov. That's why he looks so famili-

"Yuri, was my brother."

Akihito can't help but let out an audible gasp then, his mind already warring over the many possibilities as to why an Arbatov is here of all places, in this position at some god forsaken clinic in the countryside. In Japan. Could they still be messing with Asami? He blinks through the discomfort, wracking his mind for answers though none are forthcoming thanks to the strike to his head and how the stark white lights are disorientating him, causing spots to impair his vision. Each of the bright filaments are imprinted deeply into Akihito's eyes so Eduard's face is partially obscured by large purple blobs but still he looks almost pleadingly to the man. Akihito doesn't know what happened on the cruise ship in the moments following his shooting but he had always wondered what had become of everyone. And Asami had been decidedly silent on the matter.

"Your…brother?…"

"W-was?"

What ever became of the Russians that had stolen him away when he had been so close to Asami? The terrifying man who had almost choked Akihito to death and who the boy had then gone on to shoot at. What had happened after Yuri had shot Akihito?

"I'm…I'm sorry.…How, when did this happen?"

"Mmmm?" Eduard questions absent-mindedly as he leans a little closer to Akihito, better to see those enchantingly large, frightened eyes. He tilts his head a little, eyes moving down to in turn focus on the lightly trembling lips as the boy nervously awaits a response - oh yes, he can see why his brother would have wanted to destroy this enchantingly innocent boy. To extinguish the fire in those hazel orbs and drag the last, sweetly strangled breath from those soft cherry lips.

"Oh? Shouldn't you be the one telling me? You were there were you not? Although…" He chuckles again, relinquishing his close examination of Akihito's parted chapped lips to instead face the shining light above and closing his eyes. To bask. "…Mikhail had informed me you had been wounded, that you were not conscious in time to see Asami Ryuichi shooting Yuri four times before he finally fell overboard to his death. No…I suppose you wouldn't know, would you?"

Akihito's chest grows heavier, the fluttering breathes coming out uneven as he starts to hyperventilate a little because upon hearing that, he can't help but relive those terrible moments back on the deck of the ship. Calling, screaming for Asami but the man not calling back in return until - "Takaba!" He had heard it, Asami calling back to him just as urgently from the upper deck. He had been so relieved and assured all be it only for a few short moments before he had heard the steady footsteps behind him and he had turned. Yuri raising his gun and pulling the trigger...

"So I learned that my dear brother had been slain while on one of Mikhails foolish regular side trips to Macao. Can you blame me for being perhaps a little curious about the little slut who had crossed his path and lead him so blindly to his demise?"

The photographer finds his voice then, not even so much at being labelled a slut when he hand't asked for any of it. Any of the attention that powerful underworld figures seem determined to lavish upon him. And his body. Akihito closes his eyes briefly, confused somewhat at the mans almost jovial tone and relaxed posture when his eyes tell a far different story. They're so cold and gleaming devilishly, belying the calm tone coming from his mouth.

"I'm sorry, about your brother…really. I wasn't trying to get him hurt, I'm sorry…I just wanted to go home…"

His hands tense, clenching and unclenching from where they're strapped down at his sides and he tests the give in the straps buckled over him, shifting his torso to gauge the amount of wiggle room granted for any chance of escape. There's none.

"…Is this why you're doing this, to these people? Was it a trap? R-revenge?"

"Oh? No, well not really at least - an added bonus if you like. I was as I said, curious as to whom this Takaba Akihito is and his Asami for that matter. Who this foolish child is that has no understanding of the underworld and yet, has three of the underworld's most powerful men at loggerheads. Wouldn't you be interested?…You certainly had my dear little brother intrigued."

He pauses and gives a wry laugh, features and face softening. Almost as if he's recalling his fondest of memories.

"You see….Yuri, had always been a man of beastly desires, he had gotten more than a couple of our household maids pregnant in his early teens I'll tell you now but, as he grew older and…more violent. His perversions also grew more…disturbing. I have long since forgotten the precise number of bloody little corpses he would leave strewn around the estate…I think in the end it ran into the hundreds..."

Eduard thinks back again with a little smile to a time where he was Yuri's closest ally, cleaning up constantly after him when he had lost control - the boys both growing up in a heavily strict, catholic family saw them receive regular beatings as children for disobedience or for sinning. Or so that's what their father had said. Those sessions with the cane, the belt or fists - they had left the brothers weak, bruised and hurting for weeks but their so called mother, home tutors and even servants. No one ever said anything to stop it until eventually, the boys began to resent everyone but each other. Their parents had died at the hands of their precious sons some years ago.

"…I merely wanted to see the fine little specimen that had caught his eye, and I happened to be in the area."

The doctor practically grins at Akihito as he springs up and drags the little surgical table closer to the bed, the rusty wheels squeaking along against the uneven floor which makes the boy's head throb unbearably again and he can't help but close his eyes in discomfort until, he hears more clanking objects that seem to echo with forbiddance. Telling Akihito to run if he can.

"So where do all these people come into it? Why?...Why are you experimenting on them - drugging them?"

"Ah, that's none of your concern. I'd be more worried about yourself if I were you."

"It is my concern! You're using people and hurting them! I think you hurt Yama-san...At least tell me why."

Akihito is too busy being outraged to spot how he's being somewhat laughed at, Eduard rarely meets people with so much spunk in his line of work. Especially when said person is restrained oh so vulnerably to a bed in one of his operating rooms.

"Hm. I suppose it would't hurt..." He laughs at the scowl Akihito sends his way, yes he likes this boy a little. He's rather entertaining. "I am employed by an organisation called 'Dawn's first light' - we are a privately owned organisation who specialise in developing weapons in aid of our clients covert, espionage or military missions on a case by case basis. It's rather a lucrative business actually..."

The photographer listens closely, not quite believing what he's hearing. He can't believe organisations like that even exist.

"So…why, are you using these people then? Why have you set up a sham clinic? Have they done something to you? Your company?"

"No."

"Uh-then..."

Eduard let's Akihito think while he turns his attention back to the bloody tray, his broad back to the prone figure on the bed as he picks up and sets down various implements. Precious tools of his trade.

"...It was far too easily done y'know…a doctor setting up a small Asylum on the outskirts of some godforsaken town. It's refreshing really, that the Japanese are far too trusting."

He laughs again, this time selecting a jaggedly bladed knife off of the tray and examining it closely before shaking his head and placing it back down again.

Akihito watches him through the almost blinding pain in his head and remembers something from Eduard's earlier speech, he's employed to invent weapons for war waging, spying - what is he doing to these people that could possibly have to do with his organisation? He almost shudders at the thought and somehow Mei's strange behaviour flickers in his mind. Could it have something to do with these crazy drug concoctions?

"You. Are you inventing some kind of mind control? Keeping the patients subdued, Mei - did you make her do that? Is it some kind of chemical warfare? You want to turn people into mindless drones?..."

Akihito's mind races, knowing that if by some miracle he makes it out of this alive, he's going to do everything in his power to bust this story wide open. The clanking stops suddenly though and Eduard's posture tenses, a long satisfied breath coming out in a hiss like mumble before it relaxes again and he speaks to the boy behind him once more.

And Akihito can practically hear the grin that's lighting up the man's face with a strange and maniacal light.

"Perhaps you could call it that, though...I like to think it's because people, can be weapons too…"

The boys chest hitches a little under the thick leather strap buckled tightly across it upon seeing the transformation of the man beside him. He turns back to the bed, all traces of the well humoured man Akihito was talking with just a few moments previously, gone. Replaced completely with a look so twisted and gleeful, glowing with mischief that Akihito's face turns pale.

His voice comes out in a bare whisper, trembling with fear.

"What? What is that…?"

"Wait! No!"

A large syringe rests quite at home in the skilled surgeon's hand. A thick looking, cloudy white liquid swirls within it's chamber and he presses down on the plunger just for show, enjoying watching those exquisite eyes light up in terror. He can smell the fear rolling off of his latest experimental candidate in waves and it smells delicious so he presses down on the plunger again, the disgusting looking concoction spurting out and splattering suggestively over Akihito's face as the man laughs on, drawing the thick needle ever closer to a struggling, tensed arm which is still strapped tightly at the boy's side.

Akihito pleads, swears and spits in defence, fighting futilely against his bonds as he fights for his life.

It's not long before the syringe's chamber is empty though and it's only a few seconds after that, that Akihito falls into a restless, drug induced slumber. A lone tear falling from under hazel lashes.

}xXx{

It's after one in the morning and rain is pouring down hard when Asami finally pulls his car up to the hospital gates. It was difficult finding the place, Akihito obviously hadn't bothered to really specify the location and Asami hadn't asked so he had to stop at the outskirts of town and ask for directions at a questionable looking bar instead. Now though that he's arrived, Asami looks up at the gloomy building through the rain streaked window noticing the steep incline up to the small parking lot out front and how the water is cascading down it. Clusters of gravel and soil breaking down with the sheer force of the water relentlessly beating down and in a way that shows that right now, nothing short of an all-terrain vehicle with specialist tyres is going to make it up there. Not without screwing his gearbox anyway.

He tuts and gets out of the car, leaving the thing running as he knows he'll be in and out within minutes with one rather pissed off photographer in tow so he doesn't mind that he has to push open the creaking, clunking gates, that the icy water is tickling his skin as it hits the back of his neck or even that he's ruining an (up until now) perfectly pristine pair of Versace brogues if it means he can walk the few metres to the building and set his eyes on that one dear, troublesome boy. What's a drop of rain or two?

A leather covered hand reaches up, curtly rapping on the glass of the Asylum entrance and waiting for a moment but only half expecting a response so late in an out of the way place like this so he glances through the mottled glass to the deserted corridors and upon not seeing any signs of life (and never, ever one to be kept waiting for too long) Asami enters, brushing any rogue water droplets off his coat at the entrance before making his way down the corridor, coming up to the reception desk quickly and ringing the lobby bell, just the once.

"…Coming!…"

A small voice shouts of the room off from the reception desk, a young bespectacled girl coming around the corner soon after with a hot cocoa and a hot water bottle. Rubbing her eyes.

"Ah-sumimasen! I was just resting my eyes, been rather busy…short staffed and all…"

She stops short somewhat when she sees Asami standing effortlessly yet so impressively by the tall reception desk, a hand resting elegantly on the counter. She thinks she may have whimpered slightly though when those beautiful golden eyes finally turn to her, the man regarding her with an impatient and impudent stare. She thinks he's the most beautiful man she's ever seen in her life. And she can't help but blush, averting her eyes and adjusting her crumpled dress from where she had been sleeping in it perched on a chair in the other room.

"C-can I help you, sir?"

"You can, I'd like to know where a young man by name of Takaba Akihito is - I've come to collect him."

Mei starts a little, still clutching her hot water bottle and cocoa so she sets them down hurriedly on the counter so she can rifle through the last few days' worth of admission notes. Takaba, Takaba…That name does somehow ring a bell...

"Oh, I'm sorry sir I don't see any record of someone by that name being admitted. Are you sure it's this hospital?"

"Not admitted, he should have come here on the behalf of a relative of one of your patients. Tanaka."

She seems to recall that name at least if her widened eyes are anything to go by and she types a few words into the computer this time, nodding at the bright screen before relaying the information directly to Asami.

"Oh um, I'm sorry but, Tanaka-san unfortunately passed away um, thirteen days ago now…"

Asami tuts.

He sees the lost look in the hopeless girls eyes and decides enough's enough. None of this is adding up. He takes out his wallet, selecting one of the more 'SFW' photo's and presents it to Mei, the second blush of the day decorating her face when she sees the photo's breathtaking subject. This man is surely trying to find a model or something! She's pretty sure though that she would remember meeting such a genuine looking, gorgeous and friendly boy like the one who is smiling so happily back at her now from the small picture.

"Mm I'm sorry sir, I don't recognise him." She adjusts her large glasses on her nose and shifts awkwardly under the mans stern gaze. She feels like he's scrutinising every inch of her and he doesn't seem to be taking no for an answer.

"W-well…if that's all, then…"

Asami takes a breath, seething. He is most displeased. He taps on the counter more than a little agitated and looks to his left and right as her last sentence trails off awkwardly, one last check around for any wayward photographers. The man nods his head and sees nothing else for it right now but to back off and regroup as really, even though the chance is very, very slim - he could have mis heard 'Shinsei Chuku' or 'Morning light.' Right? He is Asami Ryuichi but, it may still be possible somehow.

The door slams behind him and he steps swiftly and elegantly back down the steps, water this time also invading not only his ears, scalp and coat collar but the former sanctuary of his bespoke leather shoes as well as he heads down the drive and into his car but only serving to get even more wet and even more irritated. The car door meets the same fate as the asylum doors and the glass trembles under the sudden impact almost as if reading Asami's increasingly blackened mood. He turns the key in the ignition once to get some light and runs his hands through his soaking wet hair, swiping it irritably away from his face before he whips out his phone. No signal.

He chucks it on the passenger seat and starts the car, he'll get somewhere with signal to phone Kirishima and sort out this nonsense. At this rate the little red panties will have to wait.

Several minutes later in the outskirts of town Asami pulls the beamer to a stop, keeping the engine going as he phones his right hand man who of course, picks up dead on the second ring - ready for orders.

"Asami-sama."

"Find out all you can about this place, there's no record of Takaba ever being here."

"Ah is that so? I definitely had him getting the planned train at thirty seven minutes past ten the morning before last to Shinsei Chuku. I'll look into it. Also, excuse me for asking Asami-sama but, your phone? It's operating quite satisfactorily there? We still cannot contact -"

"No, I've had to drive just over a mile out of the village to call you. I'm about to go back and have a look around, something wasn't right. But call me in one hour with the information. I'll be back here by then."

"Of course Asami-sama."

Asami hangs up and sighs, rubbing his tired eyes with a thumb and forefinger before chucking his phone to the side again and getting ready to disembark as the downpour grows deafeningly loud and beats down on the windshield, even with the wipers working at full pelt visibility is still almost non existent.

He gets back to the asylum and pulls the car up to the gates, having to get out to open them again in the downpour - he'll drive the car up to the door, dry off and clean up before collecting Akihito from wherever the fuck he's hiding to shove him into the car for the ride home.

He tries not to think about the other possibility, the one where Akihito may have used this place as a cover to get out of Tokyo and run away. No, he assures himself. Akihito only took a small rucksack with him, only one change of clothes. He breathes out a long calming sigh and gets back in the car, having to rev the engine and spin the tyres loudly in order to make it up the gravelly path, water and debris cascading steadily downwards to the pot holed road below. The engine roars as he makes his way up the steep incline though not as loud as the monsoon overhead.

With tyres smoking and the smell of burning rubber hanging in the air Asami finally makes it up to the small empty parking lot where he reverses in, ready to bomb it out of the place with a cranky Akihito as (no doubt) kicking and screaming hostage. Yes, he'd like to be home sooner rather than later - he wants to make the most out of those little red panties before work tomorrow.

Once the engine is finally quiet Asami steps out of the car and heads back into the building, the lights in the halls somewhat extinguished by now and there's a soft snorting noise coming over from reception. Walking forward and with his expensive wool coat dripping on the terracotta floor, he sees the young woman sleeping, arms folded under her head and he smirks knowing this will be a lot easier because of it but, he pauses before passing her completely. Her right hand draws his attention as the delicate, nimble fingers are absently clutched around a somewhat crumpled handkerchief. His handkerchief. The one he distinctly remembers tucking oh so condescendingly into Akihito's shirt pocket with a smirk when the boy had been protesting adorably about how he didn't like to have to walk from the limo to the penthouse apartment with come leaking out his ass.

However again, out of pride. Akihito had refused to use the handkerchief to clean himself up but Asami had taken a little more pleasure than expected from the fact that Akihito had held onto that crisp white, A.R emblazoned handkerchief ever since.

Until now.

His hand reaches forward, ready to snatch the embroidered cloth away for a moment but decides quickly against it deciding it wouldn't do to wake this woman when she had so obviously lied to his face back then. And so well. Instead he decides to leave her sleeping so he can go to find somewhere freshen up before continuing his search. Now it's almost certain he's in the right place.

He makes his way along the dark halls and opens many rooms that sound deserted, too many rooms and he wonders wether Mei is actually the only member of staff until he comes across a raucous racket within one room, the male staff seem to be watching a soccer game and drinking. (If the slurred goading and cheering is anything to go by.) He continues walking for a few more minutes, eventually coming to a moonlit room that doesn't seem to be occupied at all due to the crisply made bed and not much else.

The Tokyo kingpin enters and switches on the lights before checking the rest of the small room and separate shower quarters. The heating is on high so he wastes no time in pulling the blinds, locking the door silently and disrobing, all of his clothes shoes included, going onto the old western style radiator to dry while he helps himself to a short shower in the small washroom. Afterwards wrapping one of the two towels already set out around his waist loosely, the other he uses to dry his hair.

He walks around the room in the towel, opening and closing draws, sideboard cupboards and even the small cabinet door beside the bed absentmindedly, making a full journey around the room before looping back to the large window where he had enjoyed the view of the full moon briefly a few minutes ago. A view no doubt Akihito would love too.

There's something by the window though when he arrives there again, a small object that he is certain, certain. Was not there before his foray into the shower.

It's Akihito's ridiculous pink phone dongle.

Almost as if sensing someone behind him he whips around, he knows he had locked the door and his own keen sense of hearing would have picked up on any intruders. So why does he feel like someone was in here? Surely he would have spotted this little peculiar character on the window sill before he drew the blinds - or would he? The room was dark after all.

Asami scowls, he hates doubting himself so he does the only thing that comes naturally to him then, goes to secure the location of his firearm - it's where he had left it, hanging in the leather holster on the bathroom door. Good.

He decides to gather up his clothes now that they're dry and forgo the trip out of the village for the phone call for now. After all, hes got some digging of his own to do and one AWOL lover to find.