You can blame my computer for the month-long wait. It decided that it was going to stop accepting my wireless connection, and it took ages and some ceiling-drilling to regain Internet. So Code Blue was put on hold.

Er, I'm pretty sure this chapter has a bunch of typos. Forgive me for that too?

And with this chapter, Part Two ends.

All was dark when Watanuki came to, and beneath him was cold stone. What had happened to the examination that he had botched? All that he could recall was the sound of Subaru's head hitting the shelf, the freezing terror, and Seishirou's last manic grin before all had faded out.

It was too dark, but Watanuki was not going to panic yet again. He felt strangely emotionally drained - two attacks hadn't left much to surprise him. But where was he now?

He must have spoken that last thought aloud, for someone stirred nearby. Next moment, a phosphorescent light was kindled, and in its dim glow Watanuki could see Doumeki's face, rendered ghostly blue. An expression uncomfortably similar to relief was clear enough in his countenance that Watanuki couldn't write it off as a trick of the light. "Sakurazuka was angry," the agent informed him. "But we're safe here."

"I would hope so," added another voice, and Watanuki noticed then that behind Doumeki sat another man, holding a small stack of phosphorescents. Something in his appearance spoke of imprisonment – perhaps it was the gaunt face, as if he had not eaten enough for a very long time, or was sick with a great illness. A mess of hair stuck up from his scalp at odd angles, a more extreme case of permanent bed hair than even Watanuki's. He smiled darkly, and Watanuki had to wonder if this was someone with a similar life story to his. "You have a Wish, am I right?" the prisoner inquired almost wistfully; his voice was hoarse but might have been light and genial in another circumstance. "Or rather, I know you do."

"Doesn't everyone have wishes?" inquired Watanuki, mostly intended rhetorically.

"Not a wish; a Wish. Something you want more than anything. Everyone has one. Even that man up top – Sakurazuka? – even he has a wish."

"Not now," Doumeki cut in. "We need to escape first."

Watanuki was ready to deliver a tongue-lashing, but the prisoner only sighed. "How are you two planning on doing that? You're not safe going back up there, and you can't expect to make your way safely through the oubliette on your own. Even those last escapees had help." He gestured vaguely toward the darkness that surrounded them. "Unlike myself, you two will have a time limit. I imagine you'll starve easily."

Compulsively Watanuki looked down, but the floor was bare of the evidence of meals once consumed. He hadn't been able to collect much by way of provisions, and they had no water. Last time they had escaped from certain death, Doumeki had possessed that pack of necessary equipment, but they had nothing of the sort now.

"You're coming as well," the agent commented. "You know the way out, right?"

The prisoner did something of a double-take. "I might," he admitted. "But are you really taking me with you?"

"Why not?" Doumeki replied. Watanuki sensed that there was perhaps some sort of backstory here, that maybe the previous escapees that the prisoner had mentioned had not brought him along by their choice and not their inability. Or maybe Doumeki, being his usual gentlemanly self, had given him the idea that he was not appreciated or desired around. It wouldn't be surprising.

"You're the only one with two working legs, though," the prisoner said, gesturing to the place where Watanuki realised legs should have been. But there was only stone floor. The prisoner was paraplegic.

"I can walk!" Watanuki objected. There was no way he was going to leave this man here now. "And I can carry the lights. That idiot can carry you, uh-"

"Fuuma," the prisoner supplied. "And you would be Watanuki." His eyes seemed to glint at the name, but perhaps it was only the movement of the light. "In that case, we should go now – to have as much of a head start as possible."

Watanuki found that his protest had not been quite as true as he pretended – though he could keep up with Doumeki carrying Fuuma, his hip quickly began to ache sharply with every alternating step. The few days of rest had healed it considerably – but not enough to make movement anything near easy. Still, he said nothing – leg pain was surely better than no legs at all.

The oubliette, as Fuuma called it, was pitch black and made of more stone. Doumeki explained in his customarily verbose manner that they were in actuality underneath the buildings that they were in the process of escaping, and that this place had existed long before the upper floors. Watanuki of course did not care at all, though it might have been interesting in other circumstances – if, say, they had not been fleeing for their lives and it had not been Doumeki explaining this. The only way that this mattered now was that the floor and walls were all stone, and the air was cold and damp and smelled of dust and something mildewy.

The walls were also slimy to the touch, as Watanuki discovered firsthand when he finally could not take the hip pain and sought to alleviate it. He subsequently jumped back and into Doumeki's side, nearly sending the agent into the wall on the other side of the passageway. When asked unnecessarily about his wellbeing, Watanuki muttered something about how it should have been obvious and thereafter was sure to stay as close to absolute center as possible.

Fuuma didn't attempt to make conversation beyond giving directions, but his silence seemed rather enforced. He probably had known Doumeki for a while and didn't know better. Or maybe it was an attempt to minimise sound – something of a futile gesture, as the echo made every footstep three times the volume it should have been.

It must have been hours that they walked through the maze of an oubliette. The surroundings never changed – always dark, damp, stony – and after a while Watanuki began to wonder if Fuuma really did know where he was leading them. Dehydration was beginning to kick in, and Watanuki's head was beginning to distract him from the ever-present hip pain with an ache of its own. But the directions continued without falter, and Doumeki never said anything about doubts. And despite all his flaws, Doumeki was a reliable source of reasonable thinking in this sort of situation.

It would help if he weren't always such an ass about dispensing such thinking, of course.

More time passed, unable to be calculated in this place. Watanuki's headache increased as they continued to walk, and he wondered absently how long dehydration took to kill. Would they make it out of there alive? Rational thought said yes, but rational thought also said that ghosts were a trick of the mind and that buildings containing important 'research' groups were not built over medieval dungeons. Watanuki didn't really bother much with rational thought.

"Stop," Doumeki said quietly. Watanuki would have objected, except that there was something urgent in his tone. He stopped. For a moment all was silent, and then he heard the faint sound of voices.

"Sound carries," Fuuma breathed. "Walk lightly, you two."

They sped up as silently as possible. No one dared stop again to see if the voices had ceased or grown louder. Fuuma's instructions became nudges in whichever direction was necessary at the time. More time passed, though Watanuki had no way of knowing if it was simply going slowly or not.

Then they rounded a corner and saw it – a glow of proper light. It had to be daylight - phosphorescence was much bluer than that. "That's it," Fuuma said unnecessarily. "Take a right, and then we're out. And then we're safe."

Doumeki made a noise that sounded almost disbelieving, but did not follow up on it. The three turned right, and into the sunlight. They quickened their steps the last few meters, and then up a flight of stairs, and they were out.

There was no actual sun showing, for the sky was shrouded in clouds. But the quality of light was still bright enough to make them all blink repeatedly. Instead of an urban area as Watanuki had been half-expecting, they had come out on a hill devoid of settlement. Below them was an airstrip, with a few planes parked at the edge and scattered small buildings. Nearer was the large development that was doubtlessly the very place that they had recently escaped from. On the other side of the hill were more hills, and the beginnings of what might eventually become a forest. Another time Watanuki would wonder why all these important people lived out in the middle of nowhere, but relief had hold of him now.

"We made it," Watanuki said, more to himself than anything else.

"We did," Fuuma replied brightly.

"Not yet," Doumeki commented grimly, and pointed back toward civilisation. "Run."

"Why should we –" began Watanuki, but stopped midway through the sentence as he turned to see what Doumeki had seen. They must not have been quite so cleverly secretive as they had thought – for there en masse was probably the whole of Seishirou's defense team. Watanuki didn't bother with any more specifics; he was already running, only a few steps behind Doumeki. Despite weariness and what burdens they carried, the strength of fear did wonders for strength of legs, and as the first few shots hit the ground behind them this effect increased.

They ran for the dubious cover of the pseudo-forest, hoping that it might give way to either true forest or uneven ground where they might hide or at least shelter from gunfire. Twice Watanuki had to dodge very near misses, and once Fuuma bit back a cry, though the former dared no glance to observe the damage. Every so often he did glance back to check where danger was approaching from, but each time he came close to being struck for one reason or another.

Trees did prove helpful, too some extent. But the slope steepened after a while, so that climbing was more labourious and they had to slow down. It was then that Watanuki slipped on a loose bit of shal and at that moment felt something small and solid bury itself in the calf of his already injured leg. It burned and stabbed at him when he tried to walk on it, but there was little he could do but continue. Hopefully he would not bleed to death before they could stop and deal with it.

And then he heard it; rocks slipping from above and a shot of an entirely different sort of gun. They've come around to catch us, Watanuki realised in despair, but then he heard shouts from below. Whoever these new attackers were, they had a fight with the men below, and not the three escapees.

"There's a hollow behind the next ridge; hide there," a gruff voice told them, and then someone rushed past Watanuki towards Seishirou's band below. The boy didn't bother to look back; he continued his uphill climb, Doumeki (still carrying Fuuma) directly behind. The few meters to the ridge seemed ten times their actual length, and the sounds from below were not comforting. But finally Watanuki reached the top and tumbled down a bit into the hollow that they had been told of.

"You're bleeding," Doumeki noted, making a more steady descent and setting Fuuma down with something of a grunt.

"I don't think we have any bandage," the legless man commented. "I got hit by a rock, but no blood."

"I'll be fine," Watanuki informed them both. It was mostly true. His leg hurt something awful, but that was hardly a new development. The only problem would be getting rid of the bullet, but he did not want to think about that would refrain until there was actually something that could be done. For now, they were out of the way of the crossfire.

Fuuma frowned. "I think I recognise that voice," he mused aloud. "It seems very familiar."

"Does it belong to someone who would want to kill us?" Watanuki wanted to know. If they were still in grave danger, he wanted to know in enough time to really get worked up about it; a good angry rant would make him feel human again. But Fuuma shook his head.

"You're safe with us!" announced another new voice from the ridge above. "Those guys went running when we showed up, probably back to Sakurazuka. And we have no intention of harming friends."

Watanuki turned around to see a face he'd all but forgotten about, but there was no doubt about the identity.

This man… looks exactly like his sister.