Talking to Gabriel was normally more intimidating.

At the moment, though, Arthur was trying to listen to the Archangel speak while having an underdeveloped demon hanging off his arm, and an albino human going through his desk drawers for something to eat. It was a little like the set-up of a bad joke; two angels, two demons and a human walk into an office…

Next to him, Francis stifled a smile.

"I see nothing amusing about an empowered Leech on the loose," Gabriel commented dryly.

Francis schooled his features immediately, looking properly (not really) chastised. "I'm very sorry, Gabriel, please forgive me."

"His name's Ludwig-"

"It is not." Gabriel sighed and rubbed at his temples with the hand that didn't have Feliciano attached to it. "Please try to focus on the matter at hand. If the information given to you by Death is accurate, which I believe it is, then there is a member of the undead currently in possession of his soul. He has access to some very dangerous magic that should have been destroyed eons ago. According to my logs, there are in fact two souls missing. Bearing this in mind, it is possible that the two are acting in tandem with one another."

Gilbert wandered over to the desk, having somehow located a protein bar that Feliciano immediately asked for a bite of and subsequently wrinkled his nose at. "Both those dudes died at like, the same time, right?"

"Yes, they did," Gabriel murmured, steepling his fingers contemplatively. "I wonder."

"I don't quite like this," Arthur said, gaze drifting to the protein bar in Gilbert's hand.

"I don't quite like you," Gilbert replied.

Arthur raised an impressive eyebrow. "Noted, but that wasn't what I meant. Something doesn't add up. Perhaps it is possible that these rogues are in cahoots with one another, but it seems altogether too convenient that they both died at the same time."

"Perhaps they were attacked by the same Leech," Francis suggested, moving over so Gilbert could join them on the couch. "If, say, they'd both been ambushed, then it would make sense that Death would take their souls at the same time."

"But from two completely different locations?" Arthur countered. "They were halfway across the continent from one another. Even if they'd met up later and decided to pair off, doesn't it seem at all odd that they share a deathdate?"

"I'd forgotten that," Francis sighed, leaning back against the sofa. "It worries me that the Leech's motives are so obscure. With the last Apocalypse, it was very easy. People died, came back as zombies, ate other people, ad naseum. Even when their goals became more sophisticated, they did us the courtesy of announcing their plans over national television."

Gilbert, who had refused to meet anyone's eye after the mention of zombies, studied the ceiling intently. "Sure do miss being on Earth. Good food, fun stuff to do, and those kids weren't half bad either."

"What kids?" Feliciano asked, slowly melting all over Gabriel's desk and crumpling his paperwork.

"Oh, you know." Gil made a vague hand gesture. "That kid, the one who kept calling me Brian. And his pals, the Japanese guy and the Chinese guy."

Arthur perked up. "You know, Yao was a lot of help the last time. He found a way to contact us to alert us of what we- er, of what happened on Earth. He's got some sort of second sight."

Gabriel frowned slightly at the slip-up, but chose to let it go for the moment. "Is he sensitive to the voices of the dead?"

"Apparently. He has some form of clairvoyance. I didn't ask him about it in much detail."

Francis scratched at his goatee. "I wonder if he will have any idea of what is happening now?"

"He might well do." Arthur turned, straightening up at the idea that they might have a lead. "Even if he doesn't, we could always ask us to keep his ears open. It can't be a bad thing to have a psychic on your team."

"I'd like to know how a live human is so familiar with the two of you," Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

Francis tried to shuffle back into the couch, although this accomplished nothing. "Well, that's neither here nor there-"

"Anyway, we'd best be going," Arthur chirruped in a way that didn't suit him at all. He stood, dragging Francis by the sleeve. "Early to bed, early to rise, birds eating worms and all that. No good sitting around wasting time in a cushy office, gotta get, what'dyou call it, down to business," he babbled, unzipping a mini portal and shoving his demonic companion before him. "Ta, then, gents!"

The portal closed, and Feliciano, Gilbert and Gabriel were alone once again. Gabriel stared at the empty space the two had disappeared to, grinding his teeth ever so slightly. Gilbert continued admiring the craftsmanship of the ceiling paint.

Feliciano, oblivious to the situation, folded an important-looking document into a paper plane and giggled.

"What do you mean, he isn't here?"

Kiku made a little whimpering noise and clutched his dog to his chest. "He's not here. We were sitting here playing Monopoly and minding our own business, and then someone broke in and kidnapped him!"

"Knocked us out, too," grumbled Soo, rubbing at an ugly bruise on his jaw. "If they'd had a fair fight, I woulda kicked all their asses and then some. They took us by surprise, so there wasn't anything we could do."

"That's all very well and good," Arthur said, flicking a little bit of healing energy at Yong Soo's face, "but who are 'they'?"

"We don't know." Kiku slipped sideways until he was lying on the couch, staring miserably at the wall. "All I saw was that they were big and blond. We've filed a police report but it's Thursday and nobody's taking me seriously."

Francis patted him absently on the shoulder. "Ange, this seems awfully suspicious, doesn't it?"

"I'll bet my halo they're all connected," Arthur muttered, tapping his foot on the carpet. "We might need to go back to the place we started. Perhaps we'll be able to gather more clues."

"Back to the salon?" Francis quickly withdrew his hand just before Pochi could bite it. "I suppose it's a start. This time we should ask around, see if anything fishy strange has been occurring."

"What are you talking about?" Soo asked, leaning forward. "And what does Yao have to do with it?"

Arthur looked at his friend and sighed. "Alright, listen closely. It's a bit of an odd story."

"I think," said Tino, "that cameras are the best things to have ever been invented."

Yao made a face. He was tied up and sitting on the floor of an expensive hotel room, glaring up at the five strangers who had kidnapped him from the comfort of his apartment. He hadn't been roughed up too much, but being manhandled and transported in the back of a stuffy van (and mind you, unwillingly so) had understandably put him in a foul mood. He'd been there for a day, and his wrists were starting to hurt from being tied when he wasn't in the bathroom.

Tino was, naturally, not bothered by this in the least. Instead he reclined on his bed, snapping yet another selfie to upload onto all of his social media accounts. "You know," he said, "it's only been a few days and I've got 6,000 followers. I think this is pretty swell progress."

"I don't care," Yao replied tersely. Tino smiled.

"I have a vision," he said, sitting forward so he could look at Yao properly. "I have a vision where I, a handsome Scandinavian man, am loved. Not by one special person, or any of that nonsense. I couldn't care less about that. I want to be loved by the masses. I want to amass a following that will adore me, worship me, and listen to my every whim."

"I think you might have some issues that you need to sort out."

"Perhaps," Tino smiled, and the fluorescent lights glinted off his teeth. "Perhaps I need help. Because, you see, I have done some very bad things in order to get where I am, and one of them involved trapping the anthropomorphic personification of Death. Ordinarily, that would get me into trouble. Most definitely, it would get me attention. Not the kind of attention I want, you understand. The type I'd rather avoid."

Yao's hand twitched. He was itching for his phone. If he couldn't call Kiku or Yong Soo for help, he might at least get lucky and receive a spirit text that would tell him what to do. However, Tino had confiscated his phone (naturally), and Yao was left with no means of communication at all. "So what do you want me for?"

"Well." Tino stood and went to the coffee table, which was littered with newspapers and empty pastry packages. He picked up a copy of last week's newspaper and shook a page out so Yao could see it. "Wang Yao, clairvoyant extraordinaire. Have a look into your future and prepare for the rest of your life." He withdrew the newspaper and instead came close enough to smile at Yao up close. "Sounds useful, doesn't it?"

"What kind of nutjob kidnaps a psychic from a newspaper?!"

"Nutjob?" Tino settled onto the couch. "Well, I'll admit, part of the reason I took you was just because I was curious and I wanted to see if you were all talk. The other reason is because I've heard a lot of good things about you. Your website is very well-received. You have to be worth something if you've got all those rave reviews, right? Who better to watch my back than a man who sees trouble before it happens?"

"You're crazy. Completely psycho", Yao muttered, glancing out the window for some hope at salvation. The only sight that met him was an electronic billboard trying to convince him he needed chocolate. He could have used the break, but maybe not the Kit Kat.

His captor considered this for a minute. "Yes, maybe. But right now, I'm the psycho who's got you trussed up like a Christmas turkey, and I'd really like to see what's in my future."

"Can't tell you a thing until you give me my phone."

"I understand my accomplices don't give off a very intelligent vibe, but I'm not quite stupid enough to do that."

"Good luck getting your fortune told, then."

"I trust you'll find some way around it. Otherwise you might find yourself falling out the seventh-floor window, instead."

Yao grimaced. He was useless without his phone, because the spirits could only communicate with him through text message. He wouldn't be able to text back, considering there was never a return number, but he might at least get some form of guidance. If he didn't think of something quickly, he'd meet the same fate that Pochi did two years ago, and this time he probably wouldn't have anyone around to bring him back to life. He could always make something up on the spot. That was a temporary solution, at best, because Tino would eventually realize Yao's predictions weren't coming true, and then he might find himself in an even worse situation.

He stared out the window helplessly, wondering where his friends were and whether they were alright. The advertisement for Kit Kat changed into something else.

Yao blinked. It was weird to see in ad in Mandarin in the middle of New York City.

It was even weirder that the ad didn't say anything but the words, bring friends.

Yao grinned.

"You know," he said, "I wasn't kidding. There are some special things I need to tell fortunes. Tea leaves, my crystal ball, the incense burner. And my assistants, they're very important as well."

"Oh?" Tino smiled languidly. "You can't do without?"

"Nope." Yao wiggled until he was facing his captors. "Need ambiance. Need the right mood."

This didn't seem to please Tino overly much, but he eventually shrugged. "Whatever, no skin off my nose. Who am I stealing?"

"The two men from my apartment," said Yao quickly. "Kiku and Yong Soo. Bring them both here and then we can help you. But don't hurt them, or I'm not going to do a thing."

"I don't think you're in a position to be making demands of me," the man chuckled, waving over the tall blond built like a brick wall. "Berwald, go back to the apartment with Mattias later and get the two men dear Yao is telling us about. If they resist, don't be afraid to break their arms."

Berwald nodded and shuffled off to do his master's bidding. Tino watched him go with a fond smile, and then turned back to his prisoner. "I do hope you live up to the hype, my friend."

Yao smiled back radiantly. "I tend to surprise people."

Well I've been restless all week because my results were supposed to come out on Tuesday. Things didn't go quite as I expected them to, but it all worked out in the end, and long story short, I'm going to be packing my bags and heading off to the land of tea and crumpets to study law and anthropology. Life's gonna start getting real hectic real soon but I am excite.

LSE hella dumb, accepting my stupid ass and shit.

( ख़ืིڞ◟྄ख़ืི) I hope my senpais will notice me this year.

I realise reading what I write must be really bizarre, considering I say "colour" and "favourite" but I also say "potato chips" instead of crisps. The reason is because Malaysia was one of the UK's (many, many) colonies, so we learnt British English at first. Once the troops vamoosed, though, we started picking things up from the Americans instead. That's why newer slang tends to sound more Americanised, whereas older words have a distinct lime flavour.

I learnt to speak English from watching TV. Hence, I had an American accent until I was three.

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