...

Operation "Club"

...

The said fighter whose future fate held an ugly surprise barged into the room sometime earlier. His normally pale cheeks were flushed pink and he was trying to catch his breath as he was readjusting his shirt which was still half-unbuttoned.

Ritsuka was waiting with apprehension for Seimei to inquire about the state of the shirt, but his older brother didn't seem to notice. It was unexpected he didn't assault Nisei, accuse him of cheating or worse.

- And? – the fighter's eyes were laughing when he was straightening his hair – Some new America discovered?

- He has a plan – Kio could have been as well saying Seimei had just found out he had syphilis.

Nisei grinned and looked at Seimei, eyebrows high in curiosity.

Nothing.

So he turned to the others. The plan was either idiotic or suicidal, most likely both, given that Ritsuka was glaring at Seimei a little too hotly, Kio was slightly shaking and Soubi… Well, judging by Soubi's expression the plan was as plain as water.

- God, I'm beginning to worry you've just decided to invade Poland.

Everyone gave him a bewildered glance, so he explained.

- The Second World War started like this – he'd rather his partners had better education.

- I'm no Hitler – Seimei barked in such an offended tone that Nisei just burst into giggles.

Chuckling, Ritsuka cut in.

- No, of course you're not – he winked at Nisei, who made a "heil Hitler" gesture behind his Sacrifice's back.

Seimei abruptly turned to him.

- Are you two done? Because I believe we have more pressing matters to address than past conflicts… - he didn't manage to finish as Nisei attempted to "calm him down", petting his non-existent moustache.

- Quit it! – Seimei smacked the fingers massaging the base of his nose.

Finally, Nisei relented.

Giving everyone a hard stare as if daring to come up with another idiocy, Seimei took out a piece of paper.

- Those are the names of the victims – he put the list on the table – I let myself get side-tracked by your stupid conclusions based on what you call "compassion", understanding the murderer as well as stashing useless information.

- Excuse me, but it was you…

- I'd appreciate if you just allow me to finish, Ritsuka. If you have something valuable to suggest about our course of action, you have the voice – he paused – Just as I thought.

Ritsuka was red with both embarrassment and fury.

- As I was saying – Seimei drawled – I let myself got too caught up in trivialities that has little to do with finding out the true motive of the murderers. And it's been clear since the very beginning that it's the motive we need. After we have it, preparing a trap will be a piece of cake.

They were itching to demand he told them something they didn't already know. But they kept silent.

Apparently pleased with that, Seimei carried on.

- We've had the motive in front of us all that time, begging to be noticed, but we just omitted it, too focused on actual facts. Their names, my dear audience, are the motive.

Ritsuka and Nisei almost bumped into each other when they both sprang to inspect the list.

- Whose names? – Soubi's low baritone rang in the air.

- The victims of course – Seimei once again looked as if he was dealing with cretins – Oh, not the actual names. The names of the units.

Still failing to see his point, Ritsuka read aloud.

- Forgotten, Speechless, Mysterious and Pledged. What's with them?

Seimei wondered how his brother had ever earned the title of extremely smart.

- Obvious – he itched for another cigarette, but had run out of them. Pity – Look at them. What do they all have in common?

Ritsuka squinted his eyes in concentration. He had no idea what he should see, though.

- Uhm… They don't have the same suffixes, they're all completely different… - he murmured, noting that they didn't have the same number of letters either.

- Please – Seimei put his face in his palm – Don't tell me none of you gets anything.

Nisei had a strong suspicion he might have guessed what his Sacrifice was aiming at, but he wasn't sure he should speak up until Ritsuka figured it out. Maybe it was Seimei's intention to give his brother a lesson?

- It's the meaning – Seimei informed flatly.

Nisei congratulated himself on being right. And better than Ritsuka, sort of.

- Look – the older Aoyagi pointed to the list – Forgotten. The first thing that comes to mind is that the pair is forgotten by their relatives or their friends or the fighting world. But it may indicate it's them who know about something that others have already forgotten. Speechless?

- They can't speak? – Kio proposed nervously.

- They make their opponents unable to speak? – Soubi got genuinely interested in Seimei's findings.

The Aoyagi himself looked rather resigned.

- They can't speak about something specific – Nisei decided to lend them a hand what earned him an appreciating glance from his Sacrifice.

- Good. We're getting somewhere. Next, Mysterious.

- They carry some secret? – Ritsuka had picked up where it was all going.

- Yes. Pledged?

- Swore not to share this secret – Nisei remembered his conversation with the injured fighter very well – He was repeating over and over again he was to guard the secret, not to understand it, or something along those lines.

Seimei's lips twitched.

- Shame you're not sure. It may be important.

Nisei ducked his head slightly, gritting his teeth. He had forgotten, yet again. Ritsuka, oh-so-focused on his memories Ritsuka, wouldn't have.

- So that other list you've made… - the sixteen-year-old furrowed his eyebrows, making connections.

- Yes. I believe the secret they all carried was the sole reason they were attacked. It's pretty obvious, once you think of it – Seimei snorted – Cutting out their names. So evident.

Now. So evident now.

- So basically, we now have to hope that we can find books about the secrets of the fighting world? – Ritsuka could imagine how many of them there were.

- Well, yeah – Seimei grimaced – That's a drawback. It's going to take ages, we'll have to scan through them very carefully…

Nisei's eyes flashed when he realised something.

- We won't. We just have to acquire a translation of the scroll. Well, not the fake one. And I may have found just the right person to do it.

...

Elated at the prospect of saving their valuable time, Seimei readily agreed that Nisei should check his mail that second. The others were just as happy to be spared the torture of reading endless volumes.

The fighter wasted no time with logging in to his mail account, only to find out that Saleh Belal had indeed answered his e-mail, expressing his utmost gratitude for having been alerted that the Museum was in a possession of a fake scroll. Naturally, he admitted that he hadn't had an opportunity to examine the scroll in Cairo to prove whether it was fake or had just been placed under the wrong name, but the most important thing was, the scroll wasn't "The Fight of Thieves".

Nisei quickly typed a reply, begging to have a photo or a transcription of the true "Fight" sent, saying that he was a student of Egyptology who had got interested in that particular work after he had come across its name in one of his professor's essays. With some luck, the guy was going to buy it.

With even more luck, he was going to find the transcription.

...

Despite so many unknown or uncertain aspects of the case, Seimei insisted on carrying out his plan when the element of surprise still remained their biggest advantage. According to him, it was vital to make Unbeatable panic at this stage, before they attempt a next murder or obtain information about the scroll. They agreed.

And that was where the easy part ended. Now, he had to break it to Nisei that it was Soubi who was going to accompany him as a fighter.

As soon as those words left his lips, Nisei exploded.

- You WHAT? Him? With you? Have you gone mad? I mean, more than you actually are, hijo de puta? – the fighter was advantaging at the taller man, fire spitting from his black eyes – You dare tell me you're taking that, that bicho? I AM YOUR FIGHTER!

Seimei was beginning to regret he had told Nisei to stop with the nervous breakdowns nonsense. A little less self-confidence would be appreciated.

He pushed the fighter away, or rather tried to, because Nisei didn't let himself be manhandled.

- Listen – Seimei snapped – For once in your pathetic life, listen…

- No! I'm not allowing you to go with him! I don't trust him to keep you safe, vale? He doesn't *care* for you – Nisei lowered his voice – He wouldn't mind if you got hurt. I couldn't live with the knowledge I didn't protect you…

Seimei pursed his lips tightly to show the others he didn't approve of such talk, but at the same time let some warm reflect in his pupils. He may be pissed off by his fighter defiance, but was also extremely proud of his loyalty.

- Nisei – he whispered – You're going with us, too. You have another task to carry out – what he meant was "I don't trust Soubi either. And I need you with me, badly".

The fighter was still tense with uneasiness, he's entire being screaming "wrong!" and "don't!", but Seimei's expression urged him to relent.

He sighed, tugging at his bracelet.

- What do you want me to do?

The question caught the attention of the rest of the team, who had been doing their best to appear not to be overhearing the previous part of the conversation.

Believing that it was better to be safe than sorry, Seimei took a step back in case Nisei reacted violently to the news.

- I want you to plant the bug in the Unbeatable sacrifice's mobile – he leaned back a little.

Narrowing his eyes at his Sacrifice's suspicious behaviour, Nisei asked.

- Vale. Do you have some specific way of doing it in mind? Or do you just find the opposite wall fascinating?

Irritated at being mocked in front of the others, Seimei squared his shoulders.

- I've managed to gain additional information about the club – he explained to Nisei and the rest – It seems it's quite infamous for its night life. Drugs, gambling, prostitutes….

- I'm not going there as a whore! – Nisei squeaked indignantly, pressing his hand to his chest – Forget it!

Ritsuka moved to calm him down.

- Nisei, I wouldn't assume he meant that. After all, there are so many other possibilities… - he caught the sight of Seimei readjusting his glasses and halted.

- Right – Nisei parroted his light tone – So many possibilities. He doesn't want me there as a fighter. He never wants me anywhere near drugs. And I don't have enough money to gamble.

Ritsuka shifted in embarrassment. Surely his brother wasn't intending to…

- Nisei, quit that – Seimei spat – You're getting nowhere. I want you to disguise as a prostitute, not to go and service anyone.

- I don't need to be una puta to plant a bug, it's ridiculous – Nisei folded his arms.

- But I want you to plant a bug, stay there all the time while we're inside and not to appear suspicious. No one pays attention to a prostitute.

Nisei twisted his lips.

- Oh, but I am so pretty everyone will pay attention to me – he caressed his abdomen – I'm going to have so many potential customers… - he purred, reaching to play with his hair, but his hand got caught in a steely grip.

- It's a disguise – Seimei's tone was frosty as he squeezed the thin forearm – If you as much as let those animals touch you more than necessary, flirt too much, you'll have a hell to pay – he angrily released his fighter, pushing him away.

- Go dress, you slut – he spat.

For a moment, his purple eyes locked with Nisei's black ones in a battle of wills. The former was furious, the latter felt insulted.

In the end, the fighter hastily left, looking daggers.

- What are you waiting for? – Seimei barked at the others – Go and change too – he shot at Soubi – You're not only going to one of the better clubs in Shinjuku, you're going there with *me*, so try to look presentable – he sneered, then turned on his heels and fled to his room with as much dignity as he could muster.

...

- He's getting worse in his old age – Ritsuka threw himself on a bed.

Soubi chuckled, opening a small wardrobe in the corner of their room. They had both agreed that Soubi should just do as Seimei had requested, because going against the older Aoyagi was bound to be fruitless.

- Yes, he is. And think he's only twenty-one.

Ritsuka groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

- I hope it's not a genetic thing.

Taking out a pale blue shirt, Soubi shook his head.

- I don't believe so, unless it's one of those illnesses that show themselves with time…

A pillow hit his head.

Soubi chuckled even more, putting the shirt on.

- Blue jeans or grey jeans?

Ritsuka rolled to his stomach to see his fighter better and pointed to the grey pair.

Soubi completed his looks with a dark grey belt and a silver bracelet he had got from Kio on his birthday.

- Presentable?

- Very much – Ritsuka grinned – I'm beginning to get jealous it's not me who's going with you.

Soubi's smile faltered and he sat down on the bed.

- Ritsuka…

- No, it's okay – Ritsuka squeezed his hand – It's for the case. Just make sure he doesn't do something reckless and get you all hurt.

Soubi blinked at him with puzzlement.

- Which one do you mean?

...

When they came back none of Beloved was there, so they resigned themselves to waiting. Kio, as far as they know, was currently being educated by Nagisa about the fighting world. They were pretty sure the lesson consisted of her whining about everything that had gone wrong in her life.

Then, Beloved finally graced them with their presence.

Well, Ritsuka had to admit they had done their best to make everyone gawk at them. He had never seen his brother wearing anything other than jeans and simple t-shirts, so tight silver-grey trousers and a purple shirt with two buttons undone along with a greyish scarf appearing to have been placed around his neck in a careless manner (though Ritsuka could swear Nisei had spent long minutes arranging it in that way) caused him to stare. Even Seimei's hair was masterfully styled in the same nonchalant manner, what combined with his trademark expression of utter boredom and distaste, gave him an aura of a charming mysterious decadent.

Nisei, on the other hand, in jet black jeans and a V-neck t-shirt hugging his thin frame, accentuating every curve and flatness of his body and a short leather jacket resembled a seductive, sinful devil. He even had two matching leather gloves to hide his name, so stylish that no one would ever suspect they were worn for a reason different than adding more spice to his look. Ritsuka was afraid that the fighter couldn't entirely mask his dangerous, predatory side, but then he noticed that Nisei was already practising lustful glances and shameless flicks of his tongue. All directed at Seimei.

- Enough gawking, we're going.

...

Soubi stopped the car two alleys away from the club.

- It's your turn, Nisei – Seimei commanded – We'll be coming later. Do not let them know you're a fighter, understood? You're not to use your power until we're back in Goura. And don't you dare fail.

The fighter nodded curtly and disappeared in the shadows of the alley.

...

A/N What do you think? :)