LEGAL DRUG (GOHOU DRUG) FANFIC

Title: Sanguine

Written By: RinoaDestiny (Ann Koo)

Author's Comments: Been two years since my last update - geez, does time fly and life take over! I will continue writing this fic, only I'm also working on my own original story now in all determination and sincerity to complete it. Thank you to those who have read this so far - your encouragement is like balm to my writer's soul. =)

CHAPTER 22

Soft cotton beneath his slim, sensitive fingers and the taste of sun-warmed wind against his lips; from inside Green Drugstore, Kazahaya saw a beautiful day begin. This beauty, however, was fraught with danger. From the confines of the shelves from where he stood with Rikuo, he watched Kakei-san and Saiga-san repeating their daily routine, which included the bigger man sleeping at the counter. Kakei-san's absentminded glances outside, though, veiled their true intent of surveying the premises. While the shelves provided some camouflage, any outsider walking from an angle could possibly glimpse them. Quick of mind, the empath took an immediate superficial interest in the goods next to him to thwart undue suspicion.

Next to him, Rikuo sat down, back against the wall to reduce the size of his shape. A brief grimace twisted across the pale face and Kazahaya winced, as if feeling the discomfort himself. He didn't know what kind of damage was tearing Rikuo apart but from what he'd gleaned, it wasn't pleasant. Not if Rikuo had to resort to pills to stave off the pain. He stood there, shielding Rikuo from possible onlookers and in a clumsy attempt to act busy, knocked an entire open case of wrapped condoms onto the floor in a rustling blue spread of plastic.

Silence.

Saiga-san's snores – exaggerated or real, he couldn't tell – overrode Kakei-san's mellow voice, permeating into the quiet corner where he and Rikuo stared at one another. It was a stupid little accident; he knew that. Rikuo would also know that – wouldn't he? – and it was a mishap that served as a plausible disguise. Still, he flushed; remembering what those items were for and Rikuo's dark gaze reminded him of blacker thoughts.

"Move out of the way. I'll help you with...those."

Eh? "W...what?"

A fringe of sable fell in front of darkening eyes as Rikuo scrambled in front of him on hands and knees before the mess he'd made. "Move, Kazahaya." It took Kazahaya a moment before he reacted, kneeling down to help Rikuo salvage his mistake. Yet, he couldn't help but notice how Rikuo's hands trembled. "It's nothing." Rikuo's eyes were hidden from view; his jaw set and resolute. Without speaking, they picked the floor clean and Kazahaya shoved the box back onto the shelf.

Rikuo remained at his feet, face turned downward.

From outside, they looked like two ordinary clerks. While he wore the Green Drugstore apron in earnest, Rikuo's was simply part of the plan. There would be no other explanation for why the younger man was down here, except to work. No one else besides them knew that Rikuo hadn't worked in months and probably never would again. "Rikuo," he said softly to avoid startling him. From his vantage point, Rikuo's logo-emblazoned apron spilled out across the other boy's legs, rippling green. It also revealed – still – how painfully thin Rikuo was, as evidenced by the shrunken breadth of the other's shoulders.

Then, Rikuo trembled.

"They're here. Some of them. I..."

"What?"

"It's not them. Not..." Kazahaya raised his head, glancing hurriedly outside. He didn't see anyone but he didn't question Rikuo. He had no idea what their adversaries' psychic signatures were; Rikuo, however, would know. Had to know after being around the brutes for a devastating month. "It's not...him," Rikuo ground out, as if the stress behind the word took all his effort to force out. "It feels like..." Eyes widening, Rikuo stared in palpable anguish at him. "It's not...it's..."

"Rikuo, what's wrong? You're all white."

"It's the glass, Kazahaya. It's them." Rikuo's voice faltered; though his gaze never wavered. "You remember the glass, don't you?" A question that reminded Kazahaya of a frightened child seeking reassurance that monsters and ghosts didn't exist. "I...I don't know what he...they want of me. I..." Rikuo fumbling for words; trying to form coherent sentences was like watching a blind man laying stones down in a garden. "I thought...I thought it was just...that Toshiya...only he..."

Glass... "You mean Yoshiro's after you?"

"I don't know. I don't know why." A moment of silence; Kazahaya bit his lip and watched as strain etched furrows in Rikuo's face. He wanted to kneel down, like he had all those previous times, and offer solace but he didn't move. He couldn't afford to let his emotions override their laid-out plan. No one was supposed to know Rikuo was here. No one should know that Rikuo was downstairs, huddled against one of the shelves.

Kazahaya had no clue just how visible they were from here.

"I don't know why..."

"Rikuo?"

"Why is he searching for me?" Pain an ugly rasp in the other's voice. "I...I don't know if...he can...if I can trust him. He could've..." Frustration mounting and it didn't need an empath's power to discern the fraying edges of Rikuo's mental state. "He could've done something. He could've stopped him but he..."

Kazahaya decided now was not a good time to interrupt.

"He could've but he left me with him and..." Thorns in memory and the older psychic recalled, as if yesterday, the vivid and horrific recollection of Yoshiro stepping out and closing the door that fateful day. What followed afterwards. "And he destroyed me and...it was all talk...bravado...but he...he never did anything to help me. He was just as afraid...as cowardly as I was when it came to him. Makes two of us, doesn't it?"

His heart twisted, bent like the crooked and bitter smile on Rikuo's pale visage.

"I suppose he's here to collect now, huh? Turn me over to him. If only...only if he'd killed me sooner...with the glass."

"Rikuo, no. You can't mean that."

"Why does he need me?" Hands balled into knuckle-white fists, stark against the dark green of Rikuo's work apron. "He doesn't need me anymore. Toshiya's got all the answers. Yoshiro doesn't need his glass...to make me talk. Not after they..."

"Rikuo, don't."

"Toshiya fucked the answers out of me, Kazahaya." Despite Rikuo's low volume, Kazahaya heard the sharp crescendo as it rose; unalloyed and undirected rage punctuating each syllable. "He and every one of them fucked me until even...even Yoshiro couldn't...didn't want to hurt me. But he didn't stop them. He stepped aside and they... I almost died, Kazahaya. I almost bled to death...like that..."

"Rikuo..." What was one's reply to something like that?

The other boy shook his head, as if desperate to dispel tainted memories. Outside, distant though so close, Kazahaya's attuned hearing picked up on children's laughter, footsteps pitter-pattering, and cars rumbling by on the main street. Although part of it could be attributed to Rikuo's keen psychic sense, he became aware of others nearby. Others like them, hiding their abilities behind their normal façade. Stiffening, he wondered why Saiga-san and Kakei-san hadn't roused them from their hiding place, yet. Listening again, he realized that Saiga-san's affected snores had ceased. What was going on?

"It's strange," Rikuo said, disembodied voice drifting from below. The agitated tone was muted and gray – a gauzy shadow lost in the fog of remembrance and pain and a broken past. "I got worse and he...Yoshiro...he took me from Toshiya...not to hurt me. He didn't touch me...let me sleep. That was when I wasn't screaming...when the nightmares didn't come."

"Was it enough? What he did?"

A melancholic smile. "He was too late."

Kazahaya opened his mouth, uncertain what to say. Whatever it was, he never remembered it nor got the chance. A black monolith towered behind him, grasping his shoulder. He whirled around. Saiga-san stared at them, all seriousness and urgency and none of the usual shenanigans that typified him.

"It's time, boy. There are people here."

Rikuo's eyes were large, fear transparent.

"They're here?" Kazahaya didn't glance back. "In the store?"

"Yes. We can't creep out of here without being seen or followed, but apparently, they want to talk. Kakei's cautiously obliging them. I think we have a change of plans."

"Where are they?"

"Near the register. They're spread out."

"Then that means..." A shiver that goose-pimpled his flesh. "They can –"

"See us. Right." Saiga-san huddled in closer, his massive bulk further enshrouding them in shadow. "I don't know what they're about but they know you're here, Rikuo. And if they're not attacking us or attempting to abduct you, they must be here to help. Or cutting us a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Rikuo's voice was taut. "It's Yoshiro, Saiga."

Behind the gleam of the older man's shades, black brows beetled in startled fury. "The same man who hurt you in the first place?"

"The one who used glass."

"How did you...never mind." Voices murmured in the background, low and insistent. "You sensed them, didn't you, Rikuo? You know their psychic aura."

Rikuo's wide eyes glistened. "They know mine." The younger man stood, awkward gait not withstanding and rushed towards the open floor. Kazahaya gaped; Saiga-san reached out, grasping the telekinetic's arm but with a forceful pull, Rikuo was loose. Loose and storming straight into the psychics, whose deadly arrangement resembled that of an open human fan.

Saiga-san swore. They had no choice but to follow.

Shelves pulled back, vanishing into pencil points along Kazahaya's periphery as his focus sharpened onto Rikuo's back and the unfolding tableau before him. Kakei-san's pallor whitened. Several men – years older than Rikuo and he – encompassed most of the space, boxing them in with intimidating precision. Undeterred, Kazahaya inched closer until he stood abreast Rikuo, whose shoulders were rolled back. There were tears on his face.

"What are you doing here?"

Tears of rage. Rancid anger. A brittle edge in a voice trying not to break.

"I'm not here to hurt you, if that's what you're thinking." One of the men peeled off the counter, crisp navy sleeve brushing against the worn metal register. The pressed white shirt beneath the suit was stark and bright against professional blue. Tiny embroidered silver diamonds, pinpricks of light, winked from a dark silken tie. A sculpted face devoid of crow's feet or dimples or a genuine smile. A man with connections to money and power, as evidenced by the suit and the expensive but simple haircut. Not that young but not old, either. Scrutinizing deep-set eyes, each gaze edged, and Kazahaya understood why the art of mutilation with broken glass suited this man.

He shivered.

"If you're making a deal, I want nothing to do with it."

"Really?" The man strode forward. "Even if it keeps Toshiya off your ass?"

Rikuo paled. "Why are you here, Yoshiro?"

Odd, that Rikuo called the man by his name without an honorific even now. He'd expected Rikuo's resentment and anger to sharpen his tongue but it wasn't forthcoming. Not that sharp, at any rate. Already, Kazahaya saw the domination working, leaving Rikuo a mere boy against a stronger man. He could sense the mental barriers slipping as Yoshiro talked, chiseling away at weakened defenses. The man was even encroaching upon Rikuo's private space!

"Your boss agreed, albeit reluctantly, to some of my terms. He'd like my head, of course, for those scars on your back and my part in your misfortune, but your safety comes first."

"My safety? How I will know you haven't been bought?"

Yoshiro thrust his face close to Rikuo's, inducing a violent shudder from the overpowered youth. "Bought? By whom? That juvenile Toshiya? Or the boss, whose disappearance is just as interesting as yours?"

"How does that –"

"It's none of your concern," Yoshiro said, cutting off Rikuo's question with efficient brutality. "I'll get to the point. We have provided a secure little shelter, where you will hide till this is over, or –"

"Excuse us if we're not interested," Saiga-san snapped, forcing Yoshiro's attention away from Rikuo. "I don't trust you. I'm also sure that my partner was coerced into agreeing to your terms."

"Coerced?" Yoshiro smiled. Kazahaya shivered. Again. "Another of my terms is that we'll keep watch over your store and your partner while you proceed with your plans. Make sure he doesn't become the next on Toshiya's line-up, if you understand me."

"Is that a threat?"

"Oh no." The serpentine reply slithered by, uncontested. "We're parlaying the threat. You'll see what coercion really is, if that little punk gets his way."

"We already have, no thanks to you," Saiga-san said, his voice flattening. "You've left scars on the boy. Because of that bastard Toshiya, we've had our lot of nightmares and screams. For you to stand here, parroting your terms while making an implicit threat towards my partner, you have a lot of balls. I agree with the boy: What is it you want?"

"I have nothing but the best intentions. You'll see."

"You leave Kakei and Saiga out of this." All heads turned to Rikuo, clad in his long-sleeved shirt and Green Drugstore apron. Kazahaya stepped forward, noticing the sudden clench of Rikuo's jaw. "Why are you involving them? Damn you, Yoshiro. Toshiya wants me and he'll wreck this entire place to do so. You damn well know he'll do that. Leave them out of this." There were dried tear stains on the other psychic's cheeks. "Why are you using them as hostages?"

"Why? Would you prefer me to use you?" A smirk curved the tip of Yoshiro's lip. "I wouldn't suggest that. It comes with its own price. You know that very well."

"I don't care. Just..."

"Rikuo, no!"

"I don't care." To Kazahaya's horror, Rikuo disregarded Kakei-san's admonition. "I can't let you threaten them. If you're making a deal, you go through me."

"Really? I thought you said you weren't interested."

"I have no choice. You're not threatening them."

Damn it, no! Rikuo, not now! Kakei-san and Saiga-san didn't understand; didn't know about the promise Rikuo made him swear to. Now, in front of all of them, surrounded by the enemy, Rikuo was exerting his will. To keep them safe – to keep all of them goddamn safe while the bastard Yoshiro played him straight into his pocket. He didn't know what Yoshiro alluded to by "its own price" but it couldn't be anything good.

Couldn't Rikuo see how Yoshiro was still dominating him?

"Rikuo, what are you doing?"

"Stay out of this, Kazahaya." He wasn't going to win this one. Anger, fear, and loathing twisted on the canvas of Rikuo's face. Rikuo's eyes were uncanny, overridden with pain, intermingled with turmoil, eerie, and bright. "Please. Don't get involved. Not you."

He knew. Rikuo knew and let him know.

The other boy was afraid. Afraid and in agony, keeping mute on both in front of Yoshiro and his thugs. Psychics like them and probably all telekinetics like Rikuo. He wondered if any of them were telepaths. If any of them besides Yoshiro were responsible for hurling Rikuo against the wall or shredding his flesh into pieces while he'd screamed. He wondered and fought back another shudder, while next to him, Rikuo grimaced.

"So, the terms. Keep that boy out of it, huh?"

Wait...what does that bastard know about me? Rikuo...you know.

"Don't bring him into it, Yoshiro."

"Huh." An immaculate navy-clothed leg shifted, adjusting Yoshiro's balance. The motion was almost...arrogant, if Kazahaya could label it as such. "Looks like you're in pain. Why don't we sit down and have a talk? You'll want that, wouldn't you?"

The overhead bridge was far behind them but Kazahaya remembered crossing under it, stepping into another branch of his life. Things weren't ever simple and this was one of them. Beside him, Rikuo rested, catching his breath. Kazahaya fiddled with their duffel bag, flicking the zipper. Saiga-san had slipped into one of the shops to buy some food, since they hadn't eaten a bite since noon. Kakei-san had only enough time to embrace the other man before they made good on their bargain with Yoshiro. They'd grabbed their bags and jackets and left; Yoshiro's terms a sour aftertaste in the psyche.

He didn't trust the man. None of them did. That was the problem.

Rikuo, though, was the one who hammered the contract out. That, too, was an issue.

However, thanks to Rikuo, they'd discovered how complex the matter had become. Yoshiro and Toshiya wrangled over a common battleground: dominance. Little wonder why Yoshiro scurried over trying to cut a deal with Kakei-san, hoping to use them as leverage. It effectively made them hostages to the man's whim and while Kazahaya credited Rikuo's intellect, he still doubted Yoshiro's sincerity. Looking back, Saiga-san and Kakei-san were accurate about the infighting of the factions.

That left Eichiro as the lone standby. What was his role in this?

"Here." Kazahaya caught the plastic bag Saiga-san tossed at him, opening it to check the contents. Rice crackers – his favorite – and pastries, plus a bottle of sugary milk tea. "Eat quick or wait till we get to the train. Can't promise you boys a gourmet meal just yet."

"Why the train?"

Rikuo's voice was strained. Kazahaya knew why. "Saiga-san?"

"I'll explain as we go."

Confused, Kazahaya exchanged glances with Rikuo. "Are we...?" He left the question half-spoken, suddenly cautious. According to their contract, the selected safe house kept them within Shinjuku. While it was one of the terms they disagreed on – Saiga-san and Kakei-san really didn't like Yoshiro micromanaging everything – Rikuo and the man eventually concluded the issue. Or so they thought.

"Smart kid. Rikuo, are you feeling okay?"

The younger psychic shook his head, remaining silent. Kazahaya put his food aside and pointed toward Rikuo's jacket pocket. Some things were better left unsaid. Rikuo knew his meaning.

"I don't need it."

"You're sure about that?"

The young man nodded, mouth drawn into a firm line. "I'll manage."

"You're not eating anything?"

"I have no appetite." Come to think of it, neither did he.

"You too, boy?" Saiga-san looked at him and then sighed. "Let's go, then."

Grabbing his bag of edibles, Kazahaya looped it around his wrist to keep his hands free, turning to assist Rikuo. Rikuo stumbled upon standing, bracing his weight against him; Kazahaya decided it was fortunate he was shorter but not weaker. Through Rikuo's thin jacket, he felt the rippling of muscle as the boy trembled. He couldn't tell if it was discomfort from pain or from his touch. There were still moments – more than he'd liked to admit – when Rikuo's hypersensitivity kicked in, bringing back flashes of trauma.

He'd wished they were gone.

"Saiga...where are we going?"

"Away." Only the man's back could be seen, clothed in typical black. "Kakei didn't want to relinquish control, so we're taking you away from here. Two hours at least." The whispered explanation alerted Kazahaya to the possibility that they were being tracked. Stalked. Rikuo's volume had also dropped. Between them, the conversation consisted of terse sentences. Kazahaya listened while keeping watch, trying to remain inconspicuous as he glanced from place to place, hoping no one noticed.

"Why, Saiga?"

"It's something we agreed on, Rikuo."

"It breaks the contract. Kakei might..."

"He considered it worth the risk." A minute pause. "I did, too."

"Did he decide to stay behind?"

"Kakei did it for you and the boy. You haven't even begun to live, yet."

Silence on Rikuo's end. This time, Kazahaya counted almost two minutes. "He doesn't need to get involved. Not for me."

"Then for who?"

"Kazahaya. I don't want him to be part of this. Or you. Or –"

"It's our choice to be part of it, Rikuo. Ask Kakei. Ask the boy if you like, but I think you already know. Was your life so worthless to be bartered for us?"

"It doesn't matter." A sharp inhaling of breath. "It's done. Consider it over, Saiga."

"I know. I just hope you don't regret it one day. I don't trust that man. How could you?"

Rikuo stiffened in his grasp, halting both of them in mid-stride. "You really think I had a choice? At all? With you, Kakei, and Kazahaya in the crossfire?"

"We're already there, boy. The day we found you, we were there."

It was a hard truth. Kazahaya glimpsed its impact striking Rikuo, twisting the muscles beneath sweat-shined skin and doing strange things with the corners of Rikuo's mouth. The duffel bag he carried over his shoulder was heavy and the little bag of food seemed like a millstone around his wrist. A passing stranger, engrossed in mobile conversation, walked by them. The syllables dropped like pebbles in a creek; each sound punctuating their internal silence and then disappearing. Like stones in a river, things went back to before.

He looked at Saiga-san, only to focus back onto Rikuo.

The silence was unbearable.

"Rikuo," he said, because dammit, someone needed to. "Saiga-san's right."

"He can't be." The younger man blurted out, denial a quick shield. "He can't be right."

Kazahaya grimaced. This was going to be a fight but they also needed to keep moving. If what Saiga-san said about the train was true – of course it was – they needed to get there before their deception was discovered. He pondered over how Saiga-san and his boss figured out the details of that before their departure. After all, Yoshiro and his lackeys were still around, then. Unless...

"Rikuo...please." It was his turn to ask. "We have to go. I don't want to get caught."

The other psychic's verdant gaze pierced through him. "Kazahaya?"

"Yes?"

"Why?" He heard the plea in the other boy's voice. "Why you, too?"

"Because Saiga-san's right, Rikuo. I'm already there. When I saw you that night...when I touched you and saw..." He let his sentence trail off, incomplete. He saw Rikuo comprehend, awareness and pain darkening his eyes. "You mentioned something. You know I'm part of this. I guess...this means I've made the right choice, right?"

"Kazahaya...you idiot."

"It's okay, Rikuo. It's okay." Kazahaya tightened his grip as Rikuo buckled. "You sure you don't want to take some?"

"No."

"Come on, boys," Saiga-san said, cutting into their conversation. "If you want to talk, best to do that later. We've got to get going."

"Which station, Saiga?"

"Shinagawa."

"I take it you're not mentioning the rest," Rikuo said, gait a sad set of stumbles. Kazahaya shifted, bag swinging as a counter-balance but it wasn't enough. Before both of them toppled over, Saiga-san was there, lifting both of them from mid-fall.

"You all right?"

Rikuo only nodded. Kazahaya looked at him, then followed suit.

"Okay. I'm staying alongside you now, Rikuo. Let's go – we have tickets to buy and a train to catch."

Shinagawa Station was a hubbub of noise, activity, and human bodies. Blaring intercom systems recited an endless litany of train departures and arrivals. For all its loudness, the voice was soothing, calm and composed, as if reflecting upon the daily schedule of multiple human lives via express or standard transportation was worth its while. Businessmen, children, women, and families walked or ran the lengths of the concourse towards their initial destinations. Signs overhead pointed to this train and that, bright and iconic.

Rikuo was worse. Much worse. Huddled against one of the many upright columns, arm wrapped around his stomach, the younger psychic squeezed both eyes shut and didn't speak. Crouching down, Kazahaya laid a hand on his shoulder. Rikuo flinched, body twitching but didn't respond further. The bottle of pills was in his jacket pocket; yet, Kazahaya never mentioned them. He knew about Rikuo's pride and hoped this agony would pass. People strolled past them, talking with each other or chatting over cell phones and in the maze of humanity, the empath hoped they were invisible.

"Rikuo," he said, seeing again the fine sheen on the other boy's skin, "hold on. Saiga-san will be back soon." He left off the "I hope", knowing that wouldn't console Rikuo any.

His friend only withdrew deeper, the other arm joining the first.

Saiga-san stood tall but there were other men here like him. Still keeping low, Kazahaya made sure to shift his weight, shielding Rikuo from sight. The ticket machines were busy; lines stretched long and unwieldy and with so many people around him, he couldn't see the black-clad man. The clicking of high heel shoes – he could never understand how women could wear those for hours – and glossy black dress shoes clipping at an even pace created a strange kind of rhythm. Surrounding them was the sound of Tokyo concentrated in Shinagawa Station and not in Ginza.

It was his first time noticing that.

Minutes passed and still, he couldn't see Saiga-san. Couldn't tell if he was already standing in front of a machine that spat tickets out or if he was meandering his way across. Rikuo's skin was clammy, sweat-shined and as he removed his hand from Rikuo's lax fingers, he wished they were on their way. Out of Tokyo, out to somewhere and that Rikuo would feel better. Would be able to sleep on the train, eyes closed against the sun and that the gentle motion of the shinkansen would keep that illusory peace true.

Then, he realized something. Threw his arm around Rikuo's shoulders.

Tension grew in the lines, voices civil and quiet now raised in protest. Something or someone – perhaps many someones – was disturbing the general flow, breaking through. Making sure his back covered most of Rikuo, Kazahaya counted down like a child hoping for mom or dad to come to the rescue by the time he hit 'one'. Saiga-san's precautions had taken root; their adversaries were hard to deter and he still didn't know where they were going.

"Boy, come on!"

A large hand yanking him off Rikuo. Sunglasses in his face, quickly looking down. "Come on, Rikuo. Let's get you out of here." Two arms reached out, grabbed a hold of the young psychic, cradling him against a massive chest. "Take the tickets."

Without a word, Kazahaya seized them and ran. Saiga-san allowed no pursuit, no trace of their existence here. Sounds from behind – men's voices – and in his haste, Kazahaya bumped into a businessman. The leatherette briefcase slapped hard against his side, sprawling him. "Watch your step!"

"Boy, hurry!"

The businessman was out of sight but the voices behind him continued. A quick glance had him scrambling for the tickets, then up and running after the larger man's receding form. More and more people – thank the merciful gods – and Kazahaya saw then where Saiga-san led them. An overhead sign marked 'Nagoya' in both kanji and English, lit from within. Nagoya. The city of skiing and snow. Winter there would feel longer.

Two hours away.

No wonder Saiga-san didn't want to leave.

Kakei-san...

Fighting his way towards Saiga-san's broad back, apologizing for his bag blocking and bumping into other people, Kazahaya caught up. He couldn't hear or see their pursuers, but the intercom system suddenly erupted into a rapid torrent. The only things he heard as the train approached were "police" and "two men at the Nagoya track". A massive crush of bodies, the brushing of someone's hand near his back and the train whistled in, wind whipping through sharp and furious. More voices from behind, authoritative tones and the doors sprang open. Kazahaya moved; the forward momentum pushed him inward, through the gaping entrance and deposited him through the first compartment.

"Over here, boy." Saiga-san nodding right towards an empty car. "This one's open with enough seats for us. Best fill it before it's too late."

Joining the older man and Rikuo in the three seater, Kazahaya slung his bag down. It nestled between his feet, wedged under his shoes. The seats were comfortable, large and plush and gave him plenty of room to stretch his legs. Saiga-san was enormous in his but if the man's expression of relief was evident, it was a perfect fit. Kazahaya's mirth was cut short when he turned to Rikuo, half-smile disappearing.

"Rikuo?"

"Leave him alone," Saiga-san said, intercepting him before he could touch Rikuo. "He'll be okay. Been a long day for all of us. Longer for him."

Rikuo was unconscious, eyes closed. Head tilted sideways onto Saiga-san's shoulder, he looked asleep, if not for the intense pallor of his skin. Hair in his eyes, mussed from the exertion of their escape and clothes rumpled from being carried. Wrung out as he was; his arms hung slack against his sides and not, as Kazahaya remembered, wrapped around his stomach. Around whatever pain he fought until he couldn't fight it anymore.

"He never took the pills."

"Kakei was right. Let him have his pride until he drops, at least for now. Can't say he didn't try, right?" The other man leaned back, eyes falling to half-mast and then opening again. "That was a close one. Didn't think we'd make it."

"But how?" he whispered, keeping his voice low for security's sake. "How'd we get away?"

"It's Kakei, springing his trap. Here," and Saiga-san dug his cell phone from his pocket. "You can look through the text messages if you like. I have no doubt Kakei deleted his as soon as possible." Pause. "You can keep those, though. He just needs to make sure he's safe."

You're hoping he's safe, right, Saiga-san?

"It'll be a while before we hit Nagoya, so I'm getting some shut-eye. If you're still up by then, give me a shake. I'll take care of Rikuo."

"Okay."

The shinkansen was quiet and peaceful, punctuated periodically by someone's phone conversation or cough. Smooth, the train flying over the rails and Kazahaya scrolled through the first of Saiga-san's text messages before the motion could lull him to sleep. Several from Kakei-san and the second text message stopped him, eyes widening in sheer awe. He was sure, very sure, that if someone looked over, they'd see him illuminated by the tiny screen of Saiga-san's up-to-date phone. The message would probably reflect from his eyeballs, so amazing it was.

Saiga,

You need not worry about the obvious once you hit the

train station. We know people of Yoshiro's ilk will send

spies to track you. They will not apprehend you or the

boys. Shinagawa Station's going to receive a call from

an unknown person, letting them know of several men

with devious intentions. They can't deny it and it'll give

you suitable time to get away. Hopefully, that will be

enough of a delay. How's Rikuo holding up? Is he doing

well? When you get to your destination, let him know

I said "Hi" and wish him the best of luck and fortitude

in holding on. That's all I can offer him for now. Kudou-kun,

if you're reading this, best of luck to you, too. Hang in there

and be good to Saiga as well, okay? He's going to need

someone to talk to, now that I'm not with him. Gotta

run before things start looking suspicious.

Love, Kakei