Disclaimer: I don't own TMM. Sob!

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"The doorbell… that sounds ominous," Tart muttered, glancing suspiciously over his shoulder. "Kish! Answer your door!"

"You live here too! You get it!" Kish called back, his voice distant and muffled from his room.

"Yeah, but I'm surprised there aren't 'Wanted' posters for me up all over Tokyo! Please?" Tart called. In truth, he was really enjoying playing Final Fantasy, against Pudding, and really didn't want to get up.

The door slammed, and Kish stomped down the stairs. Tart assumed that his friend chose to stomp, rather than teleport, just to show how put-upon he was. The teenager disappeared from sight for a few minutes, and then stuck his head back in. "It's for you!"

"Why do I get the feeling that this means no good?" Tart grumbled, stomping to the door. He looked out, and saw an unfamiliar man. "Yes?"

"Hello. You are…" the man fished a sheet of paper out of his pocket. "Taruto Kuromizu?" He looked up—or rather, down—at the boy standing at the door.

"Yes…" Tart slowly agreed, distrust showing in his eyes. There was something… he felt nervous suddenly.

"Yes, yes, very good." With lightning speed, the man's hand covered his mouth, and his other arm wrapped around Tart's waist. The man began to tow the boy off to a waiting car.

Tart began to panic. He couldn't call his Ho Rai Den rope ever since they'd stopped battling the mews, and with his mouth covered, he couldn't call for help. The boy tried to elbow the man in the stomach, but twisted at the strange angle he was, he couldn't reach. The child grimaced, and bit the man's hand—but apart from a contortion of the face, it didn't seem to bother the man that the alien's fangs had broken his skin.

The man pushed Tart into the car—to the boy's rage, there waited Yuebin. "You!" he hissed, trying to get out. Yuebin seized his arm and held him down while the other man hurried into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and began to drive off quickly.

"What's this about?" Tart asked furiously, trying to wrench out of Yuebin's grasp. If he could just get loose, then he could teleport, but he wasn't going to risk trying to bring the unwilling Yuebin with him. It was one thing to teleport an unconscious Pudding out from under a collapsing dome, and another thing to teleport away from harm with a martial arts master giving all hell to keep him still.

"Simply about getting you out of the way so that Ron and my daughter can be married without problems," the driver said. "I must say, I'm sorry it came to this. Kidnapping is so… distasteful," he informed the boy. "Really, if you had just given up, it wouldn't have come to this."

Tart gave up struggling, and instead gave an evil grin. "You might be able to get me in the first place, but I just dare you to try and keep me wherever you're taking me!"

"There won't be an opportunity for escape," Yuebin replied with satisfaction. "Even if you can find a way out, it will be useless. We'll be long gone by then, and Pudding will be with us."

Tart glared at him. "To think you worried about what I would do to Pudding!" he snorted. "Weren't you all on my case about what happened when we were at war with Earth?"

"So you're not human, then," Mr. Fong observed mildly.

Tart snorted. "Really, do you think?" he asked scornfully.

"I see." Mr. Fong's eyes flicked to the backseat. "I applaud your correctness, Ron. We'll have to apply the extra security measures, then."

Tart almost laughed. They could apply all the extra security measures they wanted, but there was no way they'd be able to tie him down and keep him from rescuing Pudding.

After nearly half-an-hour, Tart's arm had gone numb from the tight grip Yuebin was keeping on it. They weren't taking any chances with him, and Tart cursed their intelligence. On the plus side, even if Kish was too stupid to get it, there was no way that Pudding would be dumb enough to not realize that he wasn't back from answering the door.

"Come on, come on," Mr. Fong muttered, tapping his foot as he waited for the car ahead of him to move. "Ah, there we go!" The man parked the car in front of a small brick building. "Quickly, and don't let this look suspicious!" the master ordered.

Yuebin quickly stepped out of the car, keeping a tight hold on Tart's arm. "Haru, I am sick of your whining!" he snapped, as though he was a father speaking to a complaining child. "You know perfectly well why we're coming here!"

"Wha—my name is Taruto, and if you're talking about kidnap—"

Yuebin grinned apologetically to a woman who had stopped to stare. "He's obstinate; hates running errands with us. Come on Haru!"

"Idiot liar," Tart muttered as he was forced into the brick building.

"It's not idiotic if it works," Yuebin countered.

"Enough," Mr. Fong admonished his student. "Really, being kidnapped is a traumatic experience! Remember that time traveling in Siberia?"

"Of course! How could I forget, master? That poor girl," Yuebin replied, apparently remembering something that had happened on his travels with his master.

"Then cut the poor child some slack. This is an advantageous union, but not to him. He's bound to be disappointed," the master determined.

Disappointed? More like boiling mad. Tart was simmering as the two men walked through what appeared to be an abandoned music studio. They opened the door to a room with stands, chairs, and a conductor's platform. There was a small couch that seemed so out of place, it must have been moved from another part of the studio, and a large stock of canned food, water bottles, and an orange juice bottle.

"The guard will replenish the supplies if needs be," Mr. Fong told him apologetically. "I am sorry you have to go through this, but this marriage is necessary for Pudding, even if she doesn't realize it yet."

"Screw necessity," Tart muttered as another man, dressed in loose clothing that befitted a martial arts man, entered the room.

"Keep a hold on him—literally," Yuebin ordered, shoving Tart towards the other man. "I swear, I've seen him fly—he admits he's not human too."

"Uh… all right," the unknown person said uncertainly. "Uh… all the time?"

"Take shifts with Taro; just never let him be by himself!" Yuebin said.

"Right…" the guard agreed hesitantly. "Uh… what's he here for, again?"

"He's been caught involved with terrorists who have been threatening Japan. The government has asked us to keep an eye on him, but pressing circumstances have forced us to leave him with you," Mr. Fong explained.

"Excuse me?" Tart asked, aghast that they would come up with such an excuse. "Involved with terrorists? Give me a break! You just don't—"

The door shut. Mr. Fong and Yuebin had left the room. "Great," Tart muttered, slumping back. "Just fantastic!"

"Hi! I'm Ichiro. I hope we can be friends!" the guard said, smiling dumbly at Tart.

"Crap," Tart muttered, edging as far away from the man as he could. Now how was he going to get Pudding out of this?