Just Breathe
part two
~Natsu~
Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon in any way, shape or form. Please don't sue me.
A/N: I'm not too pleased with this chapter, I have to say. I think I need to be less waffly and more concise. It was getting too long again so you're going to have to wait for the next chapter for the romance and blood and all that good stuff. This one's for my bestest friend Atsuko and everyone else who reviewed or e-mailed to tell me to get my lazy ass in gear and write a second part. ^^
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'And lately I'm not the only one
I say never trust anyone
The trick is to keep breathing' - Garbage
"You're just like your Daddy, Hana!"
"Yeah, we don't want to play with you anymore!"
"Why don't you go desert us, huh? I bet Daddy would be proud!"
"I don't…"
"Shut up! Just leave!"
Jyou frowned at the sound of acidic children's voices and anguished sobs coming from the alley he was passing.
"He's nothing but a no-good deserter! I bet your Ma's glad he's gone!" A little boy wearing a red bobble hat taunted harshly and a girl with tears trailing their way down her pale cheeks cried bitterly,
"He's not! He didn't desert!"
"Then where is he, Hana? Huh? Where is he?" A second boy asked.
Silence.
"I didn't hear that…"
"I don't know," the girl whispered sadly, avoiding their accusing eyes, staring down at her duffel coat, which was splattered with the grime of hateful snowballs.
"Do you want me to tell you Hana?" She bit her lip and shook her head furiously. The boy told her anyway. "They shot him," He said, his words hanging heavily in the air.
"Shot him for deserting," The second boy, with a shock of red hair, added.
"You're lying!" Hana shrieked, fresh tears spilling from her eyes, small fists balling at her sides.
"My Dad saw it. There was blood EVERYWHERE!" Bobble hat smirked, watching with amusement as the poor girl sobbed frantically, clapping mittened hands over her ears.
"My Dad said that it was General Yagami himself that shot him," The red head informed her, his voice loud enough to reach Hana's ears even through the soggy mittens.
Jyou hated this. What the war was doing to people. Innocent people who had no part in it. The little girl's sobs would have softened the hardest of hearts on any ordinary day, but on a day like today, Jyou could think of many a person who would simply turn the other way. And there were no ordinary days anymore.
Well he wasn't going to turn the other way. That wasn't what he stood for. He tugged his meagre coat tighter over his thin Kágè Medic uniform and stepped boldly into the alley with an authoritative, "Hey!"
The boys bolted at the first sign of adult interference, leaving Hana weeping heartily, on her knees in the snow. She looked up fearfully as Jyou approached, face softening noticeably as she identified the white uniform.
"Are you okay?" He asked, eyebrows lowered in concern. The girl scrubbed furiously at her cheeks with the back of her hand and managed a weak nod as she accepted the hand that Jyou offered to her and pulled herself to her feet.
"Thank you," She muttered shyly, blinking away the remaining tears. Jyou simply smiled and she glanced up at his lack of response.
"You're a Medic." She stated, eyeing his uniform.
"Yes," Not a total lie. Hana frowned.
"My Mom's a Medic too, but…her badge is different to yours," Hana pointed at the sliver of silver pinned to Jyou's chest.
"Is it?" He said, for lack of anything better to say. The little girl glanced nervously in the direction that the two boys had gone, then back at Jyou, suddenly wary.
"I should go home now…thank you again," she muttered politely, turning and jogging out of the alleyway and out of sight, leaving the blue-haired medic with the wrong badge standing alone.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It was raining. Not enough for anyone to actually bother doing anything about it, but just enough to be annoying. And just enough to make Yamato's hair go all fly-away. Tomohiro grinned as he mussed up the blonde hair with one hand, and grinned even harder as Yamato scowled and tried in vain to flatten it again.
"Don't ever touch my hair. How often have I told you that?" He said angrily, swatting away Tomohiro's hand as it came in for its next attack.
"I've just never seen it not be perfect before!" Tomohiro chuckled, but left the other boy alone.
"You should see it first thing in the morning!" Mimi spoke up from behind and then gasped and grabbed Lara's arm to stop herself from falling.
"Yeah, well at least I can actually…walk." Yamato returned, glancing over his shoulder.
"You try walking on this ice in heels!" Lara said, as she helped Mimi to regain her balance, almost falling over herself in the process.
"Now that I'd like to see!" Tomohiro grinned earning another death glare from Yamato.
"Oh well we're just a walking comedy act today, aren't we?" Yamato said dryly, tossing damp bangs out of his eyes and pulling his dark coat tighter around him in defence against the cold evening air.
"Stop it, all of you. We're nearly there, so pipe down." Akira snapped from where he lead the group. His dark hair was dotted with tiny pearls of moisture from the misty rain, and they caught the half-hearted glow of the streetlights that marked the outside of the bar. They stopped at the door, and Tomohiro knelt wordlessly, reaching into his pocket with one hand. Seconds later, the lock was picked and the five spies were inside, stripping off damp coats and glancing around the smoky interior of the bar that was theirs for the night. Mimi wrinkled her nose.
"It smells really weird in here." She stated disdainfully, handing her coat to one of her companions, but not bothering to notice who it was.
"Better get used to it. You're gonna be working here all night." Tomohiro said, hanging Mimi's coat up and frowning at the back of her head.
"Working…"
"Yeah Mimi, you know that thing where you actually get off your ass and do stuff…"
"I know what work is, thank you. But I still can't believe that I'm finally getting to work with you guys." She grinned, wrapping her arms round herself and rocking on her toes. "It's my big chance to prove myself to you all."
"Yeah. And you'd better not screw up, coz you know who'll get the blame if you do, right?" Yamato said, tying a bar apron around his waist and throwing one to Mimi from where he stood behind the bar. Mimi made no effort to catch it and watched it crumple noiselessly to her feet.
"You missed." Tomohiro pointed out helpfully and Mimi stooped to pick the apron up.
"Okay, this place opens in an hour, but there's not much left for us to do until then." Akira spoke up "So let's review. We're after anything at all. You hear something that sounds even slightly interesting, you make a note of it, understood? Try to direct conversation. Don't just wait for stuff to fall into your lap. And Lara…you can use your many ah…skills for this one."
"Flirt outrageously with all the drunkards. I reckon I can manage that." She smiled, tucking a notepad into the pocket of her tiny apron and a pencil behind her ear.
"What about the emergency procedures?" Yamato asked as he surveyed the bottles lining the shelves. Someone had to ask it and none of the others ever seemed to bother.
"Nothing'll go wrong…" Tomohiro replied.
"You say that and you know it will."
"Why's that?"
"Because it always works like that. You open your mouth, stupid things come out and we get caught."
"Well if I…" Tomohiro started, being cut off almost immediately by Akira.
"Alright already. Tomo, do we think we could perhaps try being quiet for now? Good. Emergency procedures are…just evacuate, I suppose. Be on the look out for suspicious people…"
"Like ourselves." Mimi contributed, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail.
"Yes, like ourselves. Tell me, call Koushiro and get out. I think you're all sensible enough not to get yourselves killed waiting on tables and mixing drinks. Except maybe Tomo, but Lara, I appoint you to be his buddy for this evening."
"Sure thing."
Tomohiro looked suitably abashed at this.
"And one more thing. No drinking. Any of you. I don't want gibbering, drooling spies who can't walk in a straight line," Akira said sternly, quickly adding, "and no objections. Right. Now all we do is wait."
* * * * * * * * * * *
An hour later the bar was alive and buzzing, the soft chords of old rock being masked by slurring laughter, cheerful voices and the chink of glasses. It was months since Taichi had been here. He didn't really have the time or energy for nights out anymore. And now that he was here, he was already wishing that he hadn't come. The choking smell of vodka, cigarette smoke and cheap cologne was making his head feel light. The place was packed with people, all nodding amiably towards him, calling greetings, saluting drunkenly. He smiled in return every time, but made no effort to talk to any of them, instead sticking as close to Hiromi as was physically possible. He was reminded of when his mother used to take him to family parties when he was young, clinging desperately to her hand, and there would be a thousand and one new people kissing him and pinching his cheek. He knew vaguely who they all were, but had no desire to get to know them more than vaguely. He wanted to be playing soccer with his friends, or watching TV with his little sister. That was the feeling he got now. He wanted nothing more than to be sitting at home doing what he did every single night. Kari would cook and then they'd watch TV and talk until they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer.
Sora would have understood. She always understood him. Losing Yamato to the Kágè Senshii had been hard enough, but losing Sora in the midst of battle had been even harder. At least there was the chance that Yamato was still out there, waiting for him somewhere. Sora was simply…gone. And he'd never got to say goodbye, however cliché that sounded.
He had never had to tell her anything, she always just knew. But he would tell her anyway, simply because it felt good to talk to her. And she would listen attentively despite the fact that she knew already and that he knew she knew already. It was what he needed now. Sora's shoulder to cry on. But Hiromi and Takeru were already pulling out chairs at a table in a corner and he took a seat with them.
"You feeling okay Tai?" Takeru's concerned voice broke into his thoughts and he made up his mind that if there was anyone in which he could confide with confidence, it was Yamato's little brother. But before he could even open his mouth, a waitress was upon them with a cheery 'Hi, can I help?' and a fake smile. She was tall and slim with tanned skin, dark hair and soft eyes and although her smile was obviously the standard 'customer smile', it made Taichi feel slightly more at home.
"I'll just have a beer." He told the smiling girl who was probably about his age and wearing the shortest skirt he'd seen since the war started. She also had a faint accent that Taichi couldn't place.
"Uh huh…" She murmured loudly, scribbling on her little pad, "What brand would you like, hon?" Taichi shrugged.
"Just bring me whatever's your most popular."
"Okay. And for you?" She said, turning the smile to Takeru. Takeru recognised her immediately and blinked.
"Yeah, I'll have the same." He stuttered, glancing around for the tall figure of his brother and spotting him behind the bar. He wondered suddenly if he should tell Taichi. As a Tetsú soldier it was now his duty to report to the two generals that there were spies operating in the area. But he could never turn in his brother. And he had no idea how Taichi would react. From what he knew, Taichi and his brother had split on bad terms when the war started, and he didn't want to risk Yamato getting hurt at his hands. After dithering and sweating for a moment longer, Takeru finally decided to keep quiet about it. This of course left his mind free to wonder if Lara had recognised him. And what would happen if she had.
"Sure thing…" More scribbling.
Taichi noticed that the waitress hadn't questioned the young soldier's age, and wondered why. He had always got asked for ID even when he was over the legal age. He finally settled on the explanation that now, during the war, nobody gave a shit about whether you were old enough to drink or not. People were too busy worrying if the whole country was going to be blown up before morning, or whether they'd be shot by enemy soldiers as they were leaving the bar in their telltale uniforms.
"Anything for you ma'am?" The waitress asked Hiromi, who was twisting around in her chair.
"No thanks. I'm gonna go up and get mine from the bar," she grinned in response, "I like the look of that barman."
Takeru's heart jumped and he glanced quickly at Taichi. Thankfully, he simply rolled his eyes at Hiromi's comments and continued to stare at the black and white photographs of baseball stars that lined the wall above their table. So much for a quiet evening free from worries.
Lara smiled again. "He's a total sweetheart," she told Hiromi and winked before turning with a flick of her hair and strutting back towards the bar.
* * * * * * * * * *
Yamato's attention was carefully focused on drying glasses when Hiromi sauntered up, folding her arms on the top of the bar. He had already been forewarned of her coming by Lara, who had instructed him to talk to a pretty red-head who was coming his way, before dashing off to another table. She had also deliberately neglected to inform Yamato of his brother's presence. She knew Takeru well enough to know that he wouldn't turn them in and she had made the decision to return the favour by not telling anyone that he was here.
Yamato set his glass down and smiled warmly at the girl. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be getting from her, but Lara was rarely wrong about these things. She smiled back and leant forward to speak to him, revealing as much cleavage as she could through the two undone top buttons of her shirt. Her green Tetsú General's shirt, Yamato noticed suddenly, wondering why he hadn't spotted it straight away. If she was a General, she would be a gold mine for information.
"What can I get for you sweetheart?" He asked amiably, dragging up every ounce of charm he possessed.
"Bacardi and coke please." The girl said, twisting a single copper curl between her fingers flirtatiously.
"Coming right up," Yamato said, continuing to talk as he fixed her drink, "So. A General, huh?" The girl blinked and looked at him blankly for a moment.
"What? Oh…yeah. I guess I am," She said, amidst a coy grin, "It was tough, but I finally managed to claw my way to the top. You?" Yamato handed the girl her drink, before resting his own arms on the bar and randomly picking one of his assorted personas.
"Me? I'm a soldier. Just a reserve though. I haven't had that much training or anything yet," He smiled at the irony, considering the amount of hellish training he had undergone, "I work here most of the time."
"Oh." She swallowed a good quantity of her drink in one go. "Don't you want to be a proper soldier?"
"I guess…maybe. But someone's got to run this place."
"Are you the owner?" She asked in surprise.
"Not exactly. Family business."
"Oh," she said again and frowned, "I don't think I've seen you here before…" Damn. He hadn't been banking on her being a regular. Still, he'd been caught out a lot worse before.
"I normally work in back. They've only just let me loose behind the bar." He grinned. This explanation seemed to satisfy her, as she took a big gulp of her drink and held out her hand with another smile.
"Hiromi Kitase." She said, waiting for Yamato to give his name.
"Shinji Tokoro." He lied smoothly, shaking her hand and holding it just longer than he needed to. Hiromi noticed this and blushed happily.
"So," Yamato said, looking away and resuming drying glasses, "you come here often?"
"Not anymore…no time, y'know?"
"Yeah. It's tough…" Yamato watched with interest as she downed the rest of her drink. "Same again?" Hiromi licked her lips.
"Sure, why not." She sighed, allowing Yamato to continue to make small talk.
"Are you here alone?" He asked as he poured coke into a glass and unscrewed the cap of the Bacardi.
"No…just with a couple of friends. They're over in the corner."
"Uh huh…" Yamato glanced up to look at the occupants of the corner table and promptly spilt Bacardi all over the bar.
"Hey!"
"Oh god, I'm sorry." He muttered, grabbing the noticeably emptier bottle and trying to find someplace to look.
"Are you alright?" Hiromi asked, her voice a mixture of concern and annoyance that made her sound like the General that she was.
"Yeah…I mean…no, I'm feeling kinda dizzy all of a sudden…" he put a hand to his forehead and swayed convincingly, "maybe I'll talk to you later, huh?"
"Oh…okay." She said uncertainly, backing away a few steps before turning to go back to her table. Yamato didn't watch her leave. Turning his back and sinking slowly down to sit with his back against the smooth mahogany of the bar; he closed his eyes, trying desperately to keep his emotions in check. What the hell was Takeru doing here? He wasn't even allowed to be here! And if he had been sitting with who Yamato thought he had…
It must have been three years since Yamato had seen that face.
"Matt, what the fuck was that?!" Akira's voice hissed from behind him a moment later, and Yamato dragged open his eyes to look up at his commander who was leaning over the bar. He must have seen from across the room. Yamato sighed.
"I'm sorry."
"I didn't ask you to apologise, I asked it what it was!"
"It was nothing."
"What the hell do you mean it was nothing?! You never fuck stuff up like that for 'nothing'."
"Well, I did this time, alright?"
"No. There's something I should know, isn't there?" Yamato looked away. He didn't have the strength to argue.
"Takeru's here." No need to mention Tai. Akira blinked.
"Oh. Well…that's not too bad. He won't turn us in…I hope," He glanced over his shoulder at the crowded room, "Get off the floor, Matt. People are looking."
"Let 'em look."
Akira's face twisted as if he were about to shout, but instead he leaned further forward and said calmly, "You wanna try thinking when you speak?" Yamato tried. He shook his head and got to his feet.
"Sorry," he apologised again, "You're right. I'm going to get us caught."
"Damn straight you are. So stop it." Akira sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm almost positively certain that Takeru won't say anything…but maybe we should leave just in case. It might look suspicious…but I don't think we should risk staying. What do you think?"
"I think we should call Koushiro and tell him we're evacuating." Akira opened his mouth to agree, but was stopped by a loud yell followed by an angry female voice.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Takeru, you're not listening to me." Taichi stated irritably, as the young blonde glanced over his shoulder for the umpteenth time since Taichi had started talking.
"What's he doing…"
"TK!" Taichi snapped suddenly, smashing his fist on the table. Takeru jumped, his head whipping back round to face Taichi. Takeru was supposed to be understanding and thoughtful. He was NOT supposed to ignore his brother's best friend while he was pouring out his heart and soul to him. Actually, when he thought about it, he wasn't sure if he could really call himself Yamato's anything anymore. Unless of course he wanted to call himself his enemy.
Takeru was staring at him apologetically now, and Taichi felt guilty for snapping at him. It couldn't have been easy – swapping sides like that. Not being certain where he stood anymore. He was still just a kid as well, and now he didn't have Yamato to look out for him either. New Tetsú friends that he couldn't trust, old Kágè friends after his traitorous blood. And all because he had fallen in love and followed his heart. He had it even worse than Taichi.
"I'm sorry…I'm just…distracted. I'm listening now." Takeru said with a timid smile and Taichi shook his head.
"It's alright. I'm sorry that I snapped like that. It's been a tough day…hell, it's been a tough three years. For all of us. I have no right to get on your case about not listening…" Taichi babbled, suddenly feeling that he was talking to a stranger.
"No. Really, it's my fault. I'm paying attention now, honest I am. What did you want to say?" Takeru said with a warm smile. It was the kind of smile that made you just want to break down and cry on his shoulder, pouring out all your problems, however trivial they were. But, Taichi wasn't in the mood to talk anymore. He sighed.
"Not much. But…Takeru can I ask you something?" Taichi asked thoughtfully, really noticing how similar Takeru was to his older brother.
"Sure. Shoot."
"I know you can't talk about it in detail…but just a 'yes' or 'no'…this has been killing me since… a long time…and now after…Sora, I just want to know," Takeru frowned at the serious tone of Taichi's voice, "Is…Matt okay?" The younger boy's face paled and Taichi felt ill. Was he about to hear something he didn't want to know? Takeru swallowed hard.
"What?" He croaked weakly after a moment.
"Is Yamato alright? I mean, last time you saw him? Oh god…I haven't put my foot in it, have I?" Taichi asked, his voice thick with worry.
"Is he…okay?" Takeru echoed. Taichi nodded and Takeru let out a breath. "I'm sorry, I thought you said something else. Um…I don't know if I should answer…"
"Please," Taichi begged "You know things weren't right between us before the war started…and I feel so guilty about having never resolved anything…" Takeru sighed and glanced nervously over his shoulder again, presumably checking that nobody was listening to their conversation.
"Well…okay. But you have to answer a question for me as well."
"Of course."
"Alright," another glance, "He's just fine," Taichi breathed a sigh of relief, "Or as fine as can be expected. He's having kind of a tough time what with…" Takeru stopped abruptly and shook his head. He was saying too much. "He's fine." He repeated and Taichi nodded mutely.
"Okay," he said after a moment, "what was your question?"
"Whatever happened with you two? Did you have a fight or…"
"Sort of." Taichi looked away. "I don't really know what it was…well I do, but I mean…I don't know if I can explain…TK?" The boy had turned around again and was scanning the room in confusion, not even bothering to hide that he was looking for something. "What the hell is so interesting over there?" Taichi asked, getting to his feet and peering into the crowds of people.
"Huh? Oh…I was just looking for Hiromi…and here she comes!" Takeru said too loudly as Hiromi approached the table.
"Yeah." She said dejectedly, eyeing Takeru strangely. "What's the matter with you?"
Troubled blue eyes flicked towards the bar and then to Taichi before he looked at Hiromi. "Nothing…I…I just…Tai, is it okay if I go back home? I've got a funny feeling all of a sudden…I want to get back to Kari…"
"You can't go alone." Taichi said firmly. Even he rarely braved the streets alone anymore.
"I'll go." Hiromi piped up, getting to her feet once more. "This place is getting me down..."
* * * * * * * * *
Hiromi and Takeru had only been gone for a minute or two when Taichi heard the commotion in the centre of the room.
"Ow! Jesus! What the fuck are ya tryin' to do?!" a drunken voice roared over the crowds.
"Touch me again and I'll do a lot worse!!!" Taichi recognised the second voice immediately. The number of times she had screeched at him like that for one thing or another, her voice still with a whisper of an American accent.
"Oh my God…" He muttered under his breath. And made his way forward, stumbling between the staring drunks and wooden bar chairs.
"Mimi! Stop it!"
Taichi peered over the shoulder of a huge soldier to see Mimi Tachikawa being physically restrained by the dark-haired waitress from earlier. A soldier with scruffy platinum blonde hair was climbing to his feet, one hand pressed to the side of his face. Mimi was wearing the same black and white uniform as the waitress and her eyes burned with anger as she struggled against the hands holding her. "Please!" The waitress begged, "Just stop, will you?!" Taichi was trying to decide whether he should try to do something or not when a tall man with smooth dark hair and an authoritative scowl stepped in.
"Alright, break it up!" He barked and everyone turned to look at him. Mimi stopped struggling and glared at her feet guiltily. This guy was obviously in charge, the owner of the bar, probably her boss. The waitress stepped hastily aside as the tall man grabbed Mimi by her arm, and growled angrily "What do you think you're doing hitting customers?"
"That bastard grabbed my ass!" She cried shrilly, gesturing dramatically towards the obviously drunk blonde soldier who narrowed his eyes, not looking the least bit ashamed. The dark-haired man did not look impressed and let his breath out through his teeth in irritation. He let go of Mimi's arm and turned in a political manner to the tables of staring people.
"Sorry about this everyone. Everything's under control. Just go back to your…"
"Hey!" The tall man blinked as he was interrupted and every head in the bar turned to look at who had spoken. It was one of the soldiers that Taichi had been reprimanding earlier. His name was Yutaka, if Taichi remembered correctly, and he was quite obviously completely pissed. "Hey!" He yelled again, jabbing a finger towards the bar owner. "Yeah, you! I know you…" Yutaka slurred turning his head and staring suspiciously at the guy. "You're the one! The one…" He snapped his fingers, his alcohol-clouded brain searching for a name. The dark-haired man raised an exasperated eyebrow.
"Sakaguchi!" Yutaka yelled suddenly. The whole bar seemed to freeze at the statement. Sakaguchi? As in Akira Sakaguchi? Was he the one? Taichi's senses snapped back a second too late, along with everyone else's as the bar erupted with noise and movement. Akira was already moving, pushing his way through a swinging back door that was held open for him to pass; getting away. Everything seemed to move in a blur. Taichi was vaguely aware of Mimi leaving with the waitress and someone else, but it didn't seem to be important and it slipped out of his mind as soon as he had noticed it. Somebody…one of his soldiers, presumably, pushed a rifle into Taichi's hands with an encouraging comment and he was moving towards the door through which Akira had escaped through before he had quite registered exactly what was happening.
* * * * * * * * *
The rain outside had quickly turned to feathery snowflakes that danced through the freezing air, settling on the thin layer of white that already covered the icy ground. The snow made a perfect spotless canvas, which couldn't have been less perfect for the two escaping spies.
Yamato gritted his teeth as the cold bit savagely through his thin cotton shirt, and a hundred pinpricks of ice assaulted his face with a sudden gust of wind. He remembered, when he was young, how he used to adore snow. He'd always get to see his brother and they'd lie on their backs in the soft drifts of the park and make snow-angels, standing up carefully and leaping away, so as not to spoil the shape with their footprints. Now he had grown to hate the snow and dread winter. All it brought was a bleak, desolate atmosphere to the already bleak and desolate city. Not to mention how dangerous it was for them to be trailing footprints behind them wherever they went.
He ran in step with Akira, the two of the moving together through the twisting network of back alleys. His mind drifted, barely focusing on the task of remembering where he was going. This had happened a thousand times before, mostly due to Tomohiro's mouth, and they always managed to get away. Once they made it to the back alleys they were normally safe. It was widely known as Fourth Division territory and there were few Kágè soldiers who would risk their neck by entering a darkened maze, crawling with enemy spies.
The problem of the footsteps worried him slightly, but Akira didn't seem phased and he could no longer hear a pursuer, so providing they could get to some clearer ground, they would probably be safe.
The first shot brought that thought crashing down around him in a shower of splintered pieces.
His head whipped towards the sound in perfect unison with Akira's but the second shot sounded before he could locate the source. His footsteps faltered as Akira's tall body crumpled to the ground beside him. That wasn't right. Yamato knew that that definitely wasn't right. He turned sharply lowering himself into a hasty crouch, to stare wide-eyed at his fallen comrade.
His fallen comrade who was obviously very dead.
His mouth moved soundlessly as he pressed two fingers to Akira's neck even though searching for a pulse was pointless when you looked at the blossoming cloud of red spreading far too quickly from the back of the spy's head. Something clenched in his chest but his impeccably trained mind instantly snapped his attention to the approaching footsteps and away from any kind of emotion. With practised grace Yamato was on his feet in a second and sprinting noiselessly into the darkness as if nothing had happened.
* * * * * * * * *
A/N: Um…yeah. Review, please?