Ch.6: Found Out

He stood up, and softly his partner, with a mop of blonde hair standing out haloed
in the dim lamplight, stood also. They followed the brown-haired Russian out of the door,
and they were ready, ready for all that might lie ahead, all that might have shown in the
Russian's face. It was a pensive, loud silence, if there was anything like that possible.
It made the blonde want to jump up and shout his head off, just to break this silence in
between them. As he watched the now-taller brunette make his way behind the Russian, he
could see the grimace increase as the halls echoed with sound. The halls were empty, except
for their footsteps; everyone was afraid, after seeing the carnage and damage he had caused
when someone thwarted his Claimer, Nagi Naoe. NOTHING could stand in his way now.
Anything and everything that he wanted could be his, but the blonde knew that that wouldn't
happen. Nagi simply wasn't such a person. He never took without permission, except for
lives on missions, but that was all the past, and the past was no more. On a second
thought, he wondered how Nagi would have grown so tall in the first place. The last time he
had seen him, he had been at least a centimeter shorter, so why was he so tall now? He had
already found that he wouldn't grow any taller, and had resigned himself to his short fate.

No matter, he told himself as he laid his head gently on his taller shoulder, for
comfort. He felt Nagi's head turn, the bangs brushing the top of his own head, but then the
shoulders relaxed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, there had been no words passed
between them, but he could tell that Nagi appreciated it. The shouting grew louder as they
walked towards a room, a white one just like all others, and with a flitting glance at the 2
of them, the blonde lifted his head, and Nagi nodded at the Russian. The door opened, and
it felt like a beacon of light had been opened into the night. But this beacon, this shiny
light, it was cold and uninviting. The blonde, Nagi, and the Russian did not like it.
Nevertheless, they stepped into the threshold and over it. Nagi walked in front of them and
stared at the sight.

The trophy room was usually empty, but this time it seemed it was a exception.
People had crowded in, jam-packed, and the low murmur of voices at Their words were heard.
They stood on an erected teacher's desk in the middle of the room, which was still quite
spacious. The school had hoped it had been awarded some sort of award, and there were, but
there were only a few lonely gold plaques on the wall, dust clinging to them, and on the
cabinets there were several trophies, but other than that, there were only the desk, Them,
and the spectators. Nagi had to admit that They had chosen a good place to pick a fight
this time. It was a ways from the dorm where the teachers and boys slept at night, and I
was built on the first foundation, so the walls were stronger. Mentally, Nagi told himself
to test this out later. But now he had his own matters to attend to. He just looked up at
the main figure on the desk, and waited for Them to notice him.

"Ah, here is our main man Claimer now, so everyone listen up!", Zuranpic's grinning
face caught the attention of everyone in the room. Now it was silent, and not even the
crickets chirping outside were heard as the leader of Them made a sneering proclamation. "I
think Lover-Boy has a confession to make." He mock-pretended friendliness, then laughed out
loud, a shrilling sound that grated on everyone's nerves but no one dared to oppose until
now. Nagi crossed his arms in an act of defiance, and looked straight up into Zuranpic's
pudgy eyes with something akin to hatred nestled there. There was neither a look of
surprise nor of intimidation on his face, and as his Claimed looked up at the face, he
decided that Nagi was more than met the eye as a girlish-looking boy with a small stature
and a silent attitude, but was the faint flickerings of fear that he saw beneath the
calmness?

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Zuranpic smiled again, a simmering smile that made everyone in the room narrow eyes
and ball fists. At that precise moment, everyone hated him, but as usual, they were too
cowardly to strike, even when their own rebel leader was there. "Well, then", Zuranpic
stood up, his form intimidating against the light above. "Let's refresh your memory, won't
we?" He clicked his fingers, and the same shuffling boy that Nagi had seen came up, bearing
a black, leather-bound book. Frantically his eyes widened, but somehow he wasn't surprised
at this news. He had had a hunch that it was Them that had stolen the book, but he wasn't
concerned about anything other than the contents of the book. But as he watched, the boy
shied away and made movements to throw the book to him, but he was too slow. A jab to the
jaw, and the boy was lying unconscious on the floor, the book in Zuranpic's hand. "Stupid,
slow idiot", was what came from Zuranpic's mouth, and They agreed. He flipped it open, and
began to read.

""Those eyes could freeze me, and I couldn't help but do what you wanted, no matter
what the situation. I found myself smiling sometimes when I saw you munch away at your food,
and always was mesmerized when the sun shooting its rays through your hair, making it seem
more brilliant than it already was...

Wait. Was I actually romantic there?

That's not the worse, though. The worst is when I change your bandages. I can't
help my quivering hands or the fact that my blood rises to my (yes, I know) unnaturally pale
cheeks (not as pale as Aya/Ran's). It's so uncanny, as my hands shake, and I have to hide
my burning face from you by looking down. No, I can't resist. Last morning, when you
gently touched my shoulder and asked me what was wrong, I could only look down and mutter,
"Nothing." Secretly, I hoped that you thought it was just a mannerism for me, and thought
that I usually didn't bandage up other people. I knew that probably, if this had been the
past, you would have smiled and chatted as the other people of Wei? changed your bandages,
but now you just sit on the edge of the bed, solemn and unspeaking and unsmiling, and I
can't help but worry about this state of emotional health. What is this feeling, this
feeling that makes me flush and stutter at your single-most touch, and fall hopelessly...
wait, did I just write "fall"?"", here he smirked, and began to read the last few words.
""Oh, Omi. You and that angelic self that you are. Have I fallen in love with you?""

Nagi simply didn't do anything. A bit furious at the lack of response, Zuranpic
made an attempt to look triumphant and glorious, but he failed as Nagi's quiet voice backed
his. It was not the protest of denial that was expected.

"Yes, in fact, I did write that. The only thing I regret is that Omi found out
before I could formally tell him instead."

Omi's eyes widened, and slowly he shook his head, and sidled up to Nagi. He padded
forward, and laid his arms around Nagi, forgetting that Nagi was larger now, and that Nagi
was feeling abashed and embarrassed, but he just did it so Nagi could feel better. As the
Japanese turned around, he looked up with shining eyes, full of tears, and gently just laid
his head on the shoulder. Nagi held him awkwardly, and Zuranpic made a fake act of
sniffling and crying. "So touching...", he said after a little while, but Nagi just held
Omi defiantly, and silently prayed to God, if there was one, that he wouldn't have to use
the gun that he had hidden in his pocket. He knew that Omi knew that it was there, but even
though Omi might point it at someone, he would never shoot. He had harmed enough people as
an assassin, and he wouldn't harm anymore. That became them past-assassins' rule: wound,
not kill. They had had enough of that.

But now, he shifted Omi to his other side, reached in his pocket, and drew out the
gun, pointing at Zuranpic. He did not flinch when he found the older boy already had a gun
pointed at him, just resigned himself to his fate, and closed his eyes. Softly Omi let go
of him, and he didn't see those eyes sigh with softness and caring, and filled with such a
love that cannot be described, roots that ran so deep that he couldn't believe that it could
be true, but he saw none of this. Just lifted himself into the air, and mentally pushed
all the rest of Them off of the desk, until there was only him and Zuranpic facing each
other, guns pointed at each other. At the same time, they clicked the last safety lock back
, but did not move a single inch. The tensest of silences follow, broken by nothing, and
Nagi felt that suffocation that he had felt back in the room gag him again, and he struggled
to keep himself sane and standing, his eyes focused on the target, hand unwavering as he
pointed it at his tormentor.

"A draw, aye?", Zuranpic smirked again, confident as usual.

Nagi gave no reply, but in that second, he felt the air loosen as Zuranpic let loose
a shot. He ducked to the side, his actions perfectly coordinated after lesson after lesson
with Brad Crawford. The pain came back to him now, and he slowly lifted himself from the
part of the desk he had fallen. As Zuranpic hastily shot another at his trigger, he held
out his hand, and it stopped a few millimeters from his hand, and just revolved there. The
students, obviously, were flabbergasted, but when Nagi made it fly back towards Zuranpic, he
heard a whimper behind him, and just vaguely noticed it was Omi, still looking up
anxiously, and he was relieved. At least Omi wasn't hurt. He wouldn't forgive anyone for
hurting him. But as he spoke, there was the sound of a gunshot, and when he turned to
intercept it, he knew he wouldn't be fast enough, not fast enough to stop it, and he closed
his eyes and resigned to his fate to die there, in a dingy school filled with perverted
freaks, and knew that he probably wouldn't be getting a funeral. But just as he felt it
halfway, the air currents changed, and he barely had time to register anything when Mikhail
fell onto him, eyes dilated but struggling to focus, mouth open with a trickle of blood
running down one corner.

After a few moments he closed his mouth, looked straight at Nagi, and smiled. Then
he was silent, and did not breathe. Nagi looked on for a few moments before he put down the
body and calmly lifted himself proudly up to face his enemy, just as silver wire
interrupted his vision, over the heads of the spectators, and wrapped itself around the gun
in Zuranpic's hand. Nagi's eyes were blank as he looked towards the door, and he woke up
suddenly, as if he were in a dream behind a glass, at Omi's shriek.

"Youji!"

The private investigator reeled back the wire and put the gun into his pocket before
he tended to the crying boy in with hands wrapped around his waist. He looked for a moment
at Nagi, making note of his appearance, and then placed one hand on the sunny mop of hair
that burrowed itself deeper and deeper into his chest. Nagi saw the man smile, and gently
he walked to the side of the table that Zuranpic was standing on, still dazed, and punched
him. The older boy staggered back, blood dripping down from the corner of his mouth, and
looked from Nagi to Omi to Youji, who was standing there now, Omi on his arm, holding onto a
mini clipboard. After a few moments of just calmly smiling at the leader of Them, his
voice rang clear with convict etched in his voice.

"Let's see here, then, Mr. Zuranpic Redding. Charges against convict."

There was dead silence in the room, but Nagi swear he could hear the song of triumph
that so many wanted to sing for so long finally sung.

"Sir, you have the right to be silent", Youji said quickly when Zuranpic opened his
mouth to speak, as finally had regained his composture. The long-haired assassin eyed him
with one green eye and told the audience, "My name is Kudou Youji. I'm a private
investigator. Nice to meet y'all."

The audience could only grin as he held up his badge of certification.

"Sir, your charges are for murder, for theft, for..."

As Youji rattled off charges, Nagi jumped off the table as the audience parted like
Moses to the Red Sea, and he went up to Youji and just stood by him, looking up at Zuranpic.
The private investigator had finally finished, and now all 3 looked up as Nagi snapped his
fingers. The black leather-bound book sailed into his hand, as well as Mikhail's body,
which was set down on the shelf. Youji's face darkened, and Nagi could feel his resentment,
hidden behind the easygoing smile that mocked the older boy up on the table. For once, he
was glad he had a friend/trusty in the police business.

But Youji just wrapped the wire around the leader of Them, rounded up the rest of
Them, and quickly escorted them out into 2 waiting police cars. Vaguely, Nagi could see
that Omi ran up to the other driver of the other car, and embraced him. Brown hair, brown
eyes...it was Ken. Youji looked at Nagi's puzzlement in how he got in touch with the J-
Leaguer, but Youji just winked and asked him, "Well, what do you want to do now?"

"There's not much I can do, Youji."

The former WeiB member spread out his hands as if to hug him, and Nagi backed away
slowly just in case. The blonde grinned at him, and just said, "The school's in my grasp
now, and nothing will happen now that it's under police control. You could almost say that
this school is under YOUR control now, because you know more about it than we do, and I'm
willing to take any suggestions from you. YOU are in charge of the school, but the police
think it's me."

Nagi raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're in charge of a school? Headmaster Kudou
Youji?"

Youji shook his head. "You wish."

The cars drove off as Nagi and Omi and the students watched. Then the blonde softly
put his arms around him, and just leaned against him. Slowly, as if the feeling was
foreign to him, the brunette raised his arms and put them around him, and they just stood
there, looking out at the breaking dawn that reddened the sky, filled them with a hope,
filled them with a will to survive. And suddenly Nagi knew that all he wanted was here, and
he could live, and he could do what he wanted, no one was in charge of him. There were no
strings to hold him down, except for one. He looked down at Omi and gently ruffled the
sunny hair, glinting a halo in the rising star, and he felt the peace come into him. The
moment lasted, until he led Omi inside, finally content.

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Author's note:

Finally done, still one more chapter to go. Wait, I have it, just wait. This
timeline will be completed in another 2 series, and I'm sorry for all those who like Mikhail
as a character...hey, he's actually a guy I know. I'd better not let him see this or else
he's going to say, "Do you want me to die?" Well, frankly, I wish he would leave me alone,
but I guess that's beside the point.

The next one will be a story about Ken/Youji, but I won't say anymore than I have
to. I don't know what to call it yet, sorry.

Andrea Weiling