Chapter Five: Ghosts

"Schuldich." Aya's eyes flashed dangerously.

Schuldich spread his hands out in a gesture of peace. "Relax, Abyssinian. I'm not here to fight you."

Aya watched him warily. "Where are the rest of them?"

Schuldich shrugged. "Crawford and Nagi disappeared after you aced Takatori. They're probably hiding from Esset at this point. Farfarello bled himself to death." He grimaced. "I couldn't stop him."

"So you're all alone now." Aya shifted, favoring his injured leg.

"Ah, so the kitten is licking his wounds." In a minute, Schuldich was at Aya's side.

Aya was frozen. He knew he was in no condition to fight. Even at his best, he had trouble keeping up with the telepath. He turned an impassive stare on the other man.

"What do you want, Schuldich? Why are you here?"

Schuldich ran a hand lightly over Aya's cheek. "Your sister is very pretty, Abyssinian." He grinned. "Or should I say Ran?"

Aya flinched away. "Get out of my head!"

"But it's so nice in there," Schuldich purred. His breath whispered along Aya's ear. "I know all your secrets."

Uttering a sharp cry, Aya pushed him away. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"I just wanted to check in and see how my favorite Weiss is doing. And to tell him," Schuldich grabbed Aya's shoulders and shook him, "that if he keeps poking into Makoto Keisuke's business, he'll wind up dead."

The German was gone before Aya could react. He slid down to the ground to rest against the railing. Makoto Keisuke? Who the hell is that? He grit his teeth against the pain in his leg. Think, Aya, he admonished himself. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and buried his face in his hands. His sister's face superimposed itself over the darkness tingeing his vision.

Schuldich's nasal voice rang in his ears. "Your sister is very pretty, Abyssinian."

What the hell did he mean by that? What is he going to do?

"Aya," he spoke softly. "I know I promised I wouldn't come back until it was over, but . . ." he trailed off as he struggled to stand. His vision blurred. "I have to get to her."

There was a man standing in between Aya and the door to the stairs. He held his katana in an attack position, although his hands were shaking.

Aya knew this man wanted to keep him away from his sister. He drew his own sword. "Get out of my way."

The man charged. Their swords met in a deadly clash of metal. Aya grit his teeth and lashed out. The man staggered, but came at him again. Aya parried and began to attack fiercely.

The man chanted as he fought, sometimes screaming, sometimes sobbing, but always the same thing. "I don't want to die. No, I can't die."

Aya killed him anyway.

~*~*~*~

Youji knocked softly on Aya's door. He knew Aya would probably just yell at him for being a mother hen, but he couldn't help it. He was assassin, for Pete's sake, he could tell when someone was in a great deal of pain.

Opening the door a crack, he said, "Aya, you asleep?"

He peered into the darkness, but couldn't see much. "Aya?" A sinking suspicion began to form in the pit of his stomach. As he pushed the door open wider, a stream of light from the hallway illuminated Aya's bed. It was empty. "Shit." Youji looked toward the stairs to the roof. "That stubborn bastard."

Youji ran up the stairs, noting with concern the small bloodstain on the top step. He flung open the door and quickly scanned the roof. "Aya!"

Aya was standing in a fighting stance, breathing heavily. He narrowed his eyes and charged. Youji watched in amazement as Aya seemed to fight with the air. As he whirled around, a cut appeared on his cheek. The blood slowly dripped down the side of his face. Aya didn't seem to notice. Youji looked wildly around to find the cause of the injury. There was nothing.

Aya charged again, and knocked an imaginary man down to the ground, stabbing his imaginary katana into the ghost's throat. He twisted it cruelly and then looked around with unseeing eyes.

Youji frowned. What the hell is going on? Aya fighting with no one . . . but that cut on his cheek. He started uncertainly forward. "Aya?"

Aya blinked and his eyes became focused again. They rested on Youji for a moment before he closed them and slowly crumpled down in a heap.

Youji picked him up and half carried, half dragged Aya to the doorway and down the stairs. "Dammit Aya," he said under his breath to the unconscious man, "I told you to get some sleep."

He laid Aya on his bed and eased off the younger man's jeans to assess his wound. It was just bleeding a little bit, but he rebound it anyway. Youji stared for a moment at the diagonal cut on Aya's cheek. He touched it tentatively to make sure it was real. He rubbed the slick wetness between his fingers. "How did this happen?" he murmured.

Aya awakened as Youji touched the cut again. "Youji." His eyes glittered dangerously.

Youji snatched his hand away. He tossed a bandage onto the bed. It missed to flutter down and rest on the floor. "You might want to look at that." He turned and walked briskly to the the door.

Aya brought his hand up slowly to his face. He stared at the bloody imprint in shock.

Youji paused at the look on Aya's face. "What happened up there?"

"There was a man," Aya said haltingly.

"There was no man," Youji interrupted him. "I was watching. There was no one there."

Aya's eyes were haunted. "There was a man who didn't want to die. He gave me this." He gestured at his cheek.

Youji opened the door. "Trust me on this one, Aya. There was no one there."

Aya looked at him. "Help me, Youji," he said. "It's still bleeding."