What If?
Chapter 10- Progress and Failure
"…Police as of yet have no suspects as to the identity of the person who robbed Hanyuu National bank last night. Investigations are underway, and the police are simply thankful that no one was hurt. According to sources, this hit was without a doubt done by a professional. All security cameras were taken offline, and there seems to be no trail left by the culprit. Stay tuned to news seven for further updates as-" Yohji pushed the off button, a satisfied smile on his visage. It had been an immaculate hit, made especially simple with bank personnel in the background helping them: setting the cameras to switch off, then washing away all traces of the 'robbery'. The Partners were most impressed when they found the close-to ¥8,000,000 in notes and precious gems from the safe-deposit boxes on their meeting table this morning. They had agreed to play along with the staged robbery of their bank, for the reason they knew their money would never really be gone. Yohji had talked to a few of them before Chyokan had, and told them it was to save a life. This really opened them up for Chyokan, who was probably patting his fat back right now at how great he was. Yohji sniffed disdainfully.
He had visited Ken the night before to tell him of their success. And had found himself face-to-face with that Kochiro character. He looked a bit upset that the honey-haired detective had dared to disturb their time. Something about that guy was starting to bug him… He had pulled Ken into his bedroom to talk to him in private, but couldn't shake the instinctive feeling they were being monitored.
"Mamoru called me," he'd said sullenly, russet eyes fixed to the ground. Yohji had done a double take.
"What?! How???"
"He said… he said the guy let him. He's okay, Yohji. He's okay. He doesn't know where he is, though." A long, heavy pause hung in the air. "Three seconds."
"Eh?" the honeyed man asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"If I could have kept the line going for three more seconds, we could've traced it." Yohji's heart went out to the agonized teen seated before him. He placed a slender hand on the now-frail shoulder, squeezing gently, reassuringly. No more words were exchanged. None were needed.
"Call me if he contacts you again," the detective called over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "Either Mamoru or our mystery kidnapper." Ken nodded and followed the older man out of the room, where Kase immediately pulled him into a warm embrace. Yohji could feel a pair of eyes trying in vain to sear a hole through him by way of death-glare. He smirked.
The bell on the door jingled, and two pairs of eyes (one set blue, one set violet) glanced up.
"Irrashaimase," two voiced called out in unison. The dirty-blonde made a face.
"That was nauseatingly cute," he murmured, putting a hand over his stomach. He couldn't help but smile when Ran glared at him and stuck his tongue out. Aya giggled. "Did you catch the news?"
"Someone robbed the Hanyuu National Bank…" Yohji's grin grew wider. "……"
Aya gasped. "Was it you, Yohji-kun?!" The older man held a finger to his smirking mouth.
"Don't tell. It's a secret." Ran gaped in sheer and utter surprise. Aya giggled furiously at the irony.
"You- you did WHAT?!" Ran bellowed over Aya-chan's giggling. "I can't believe this! How did you ever manage to pull it off?! I can't believe you were actually serious when you told Ken-" the redhead caught himself too late. The detective's smile faltered for an instant when he realized he'd been eavesdropped on. "I'm sorry, Yohji," the younger man began. "I was just walking by, and I heard voices… I'm just as worried about Ken as you are. As the rest of us are." He felt a hand squeeze his, and turned his violet gaze onto Aya, who was smiling comfortingly at him.
"Well, too late to chastise you for it now," Yohji sighed. "Just give me your soul as repentance, and we'll call it a day." Green eyes twinkled playfully at the florist, who cast one last fleeting glance at his sister.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kudou, but it's already taken." Aya smiled endearingly at her brother, tightening the grip on his hand lovingly. She turned her own gaze onto the chestnut-haired man.
"Well? Come on, let's have some details!" she demanded. "Don't hold out on us now, Yohji-kun!" Yohji grinned and waved them off, away from the prying ears of the public who just might overhear. When everyone had situated themselves in the back room, he began.
"Well," he said in his most supercilious voice, "It was no easy feat, but of course, nothing is too challenging for the great Kudou Yohji." A snort and snigger ripped through the air. Green eye glared at a certain redhead who was violently trying not to laugh. He was failing. A deep, rich chortling filled the air of the back room, and pale alabaster cheeks flushed a crimson that rivaled their owner's hair.
"I- I'm sorry-" He tried in the gulps of air he gasped between cackles to apologize, but the words just would not come to him. Yohji cleared his throat loudly, and Ran finally managed to subside his amusement.
"AS I was saying," the honeyed man growled. "We gained permission from the bank Partners, so they didn't think they had a real robbery on their hands. Then, we talked a few of the night janitors and a security guard into helping us out for twenty percent of the profits."
"Wow," Aya breathed. "Well, they'd be fools to turn down the cops." Jade eyes twinkled. "They… did know you were cops… right?"
"Let's just say they have the thanks of the thirteenth precinct, and pink slips from the Partners. We did that bank a favour, I think."
"Do the local police know?"
"Nope," Yohji answered proudly. "We tricked everyone. Oh, don't give me that look, Ran. We left so many red-herrings for the cops to find that they'll never catch on until it's safe for the Partners to claim the money as secure," he added. The redhead didn't look very convinced, but he let the issue drop.
"How's Ken…?" Ran tested.
"Exhausted. Frenetic. In the midst of a breakdown. Mamoru managed to get a hold of him, though, and that helped, I think. I just wish there was more I could do for him."
"You're doing all you can, Yohji-kun," Aya spoke softly, her eyes reflecting with honesty and sincerity. "And that's enough." There was a comfortable silence that spread through the room, filling it and its occupants.
"As long as there's hope…" Ran started. He never finished that sentence. He never needed to.
Mamoru nursed the drink in his hands in complete silence. Kase had been talking to him, trying to keep him company. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the gesture to keep his sanity from being held and being alone so much, but… Frankly, ever since the blonde had realized who he was dealing with, he'd been shifting moods like a pregnant woman at 9 months. At first, there had been this heart-wrenching sorrow. It had hurt so much to think that someone who Ken loved so much, someone who had pretended to care so much for him for… (Who knew how long? Months? Years? Ever???) …could betray him like this. Indeed, Mamoru had been so distraught, he'd cried himself into sleep.
When he awoke, the sorrow had disappeared. The only thing he'd felt then was anger and hatred. How DARE Kase turn his back on Ken like that?! If the older man had been there right then, Mamoru would have ripped him limb from limb, or at least he liked to think he would. He seethed in a murderous rage for hours, wishing there was something there to take aggressions out on besides the chair. He didn't want to lose a place to sit, truth be told, he didn't want to sit on the cold, hard floor…
Eventually, the ire and fury died down and replaced itself with stark confusion, which was at the state he remained at now in the dark, with the blindfold over his eyes, listening to Kase's voice hold conversation with him.
"So how is your side doing today?" Mamoru was jilted from his musings at the question pertaining to the injury the man had given him the day before when Mamoru had been talking with his brother, giving him secret clues that were just a tad bit too obvious. His hand went subconsciously to his side, and the shallow wound beneath the rumpled tee shirt.
"It's fine," he answered honestly. He'd been grateful it was a shallow wound. He'd inspected it a bit when Kase had led him to the bathroom earlier, when the blonde was between moods. He'd been able to take a shower, which had felt WONDERFUL. After, he'd found a fresh set of clothes waiting for him. There was just so much he didn't understand about his captor. Kase was like an onion, he'd determined, with layer upon layer upon layer, and no matter how much you peeled, there was always something else there to block your way from finding out what's really underneath it all. Okay, maybe it wasn't a great analogy, but it was the best explanation Mamoru could give himself before he drove himself mad with unanswered and unanswerable questions.
"I'm glad," the voice said. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I can't have you giving away information like that. Just play along and do what you're told, and you won't get hurt."
"Aa." An insistent pause hung in the air until Mamoru finally asked the question that had been nagging him for so long. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"All of this. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? When you first kidnapped me, you threatened my life, hit me, you even…" The sentence trailed off. Mamoru thought it be best to leave out the lick. He shuddered. "And all of a sudden, you started… you know, treating me like someone that wasn't being forcibly held and used to wreak havoc against someone else." He couldn't hide the disdain and spite in his voice with that last comment. He was less than pleased at being a tool for hurting one he cared about. He heard the rustling of clothes, which sounded like the older man was shrugging.
"I don't know. There was no reason to be uncivil toward you. You haven't really done anything to deserve it." Truth be told, Kase felt almost guilty about using the young boy as a pawn in his revenge scheme, but it was necessary. There was no one else he could use that would instill such a fear and worry of well-being in the goalie. The brown-haired man downed the last of his drink and stood, watching Mamoru lift his head to follow the sound. The kid's senses were getting a little sharper, he noticed. From somewhere far away, the sound of a phone ringing drifted into the basement or room or whatever they were in. "I have to get that," he announced quickly. "Feel free to help yourself to any of the drinks or things down here."
Mamoru listened to the hurried footsteps until he heard the door shutting in the distance. Immediately after, he ripped the cloth from his eyes, azure orbs sparkling with hope. He hadn't heard the door lock. The boy raced to up the flight of stairs and, swallowing his apprehensions, placed his hand on the knob. It turned. His heart leapt into his throat as the door swung open slowly, and silently by the grace of God. He could hear Kase's voice faintly in the distance. He seemed to be in an office building of some sort or another. Only, it didn't appear to be in use, nor had it been for quite some time, he could tell that much. He had no clue where he was, and it didn't matter. He slinked away soundlessly until he found an open window. Yes, using a door would be too risky. Kase might see it from the corner of his eye, or it could squeak… too much could and probably would go wrong. Instead, the blonde youth slipped his young, slender form between the frame and the pane, falling about ten feet before hitting solid ground. The sun was shining gently in the early morning sky. Sunlight. He was free. If this had been a game, or frankly any other situation, he would have laughed, whooped and hollered at his victory. Somehow, that didn't seem a good idea at the time. He did what any other even semi-intelligent person did at a time like this.
He ran like hell.
Hirofumi punched the red bag hanging from the ceiling with fervor unbeknownst to him before. Someone had his brother. Someone had his goddamn little brother! The one person in this whole fucked up world that had ever meant anything to him! And there was nothing he could do to help him. Sure, he could follow in his father's footsteps and have a price put on Mamoru's safe returning, and add a bonus for the head of his captor, but he was disgusted enough that he had been pressured into his 'family business', and refused to take such unnecessary measures. He wondered briefly if his father would give a damn that his youngest son had been abducted. 'Probably not, the sick fuck. He'd most likely thank the guy for doing what he couldn't eight years ago.'
Hirofumi struck the punching bag again, anger and frustration gaining him a second wind. After another thirty minutes or so of this intense body- wracking workout, the man collapsed onto the matted floor, his breath arriving to him in short, shallow gasps. 'Mamoru…' His father had always wanted the middle child to be more like him. Now seemed the perfect time to start.
The young man plodded to his room and stepped into the shower, wondering how to go about tricking his father into lending him the sources he needed to find this bastard. He couldn't come right out and say, 'Hey, pop, Mamo-chan's been kidnapped. You know, the kid you hate? Yeah, well I want him back. Can I get a list of your best bounty hunters? Hey, thanks!' He chuckled at the thought, though it was a rueful laugh. A sigh escaped him as he felt the water running over him, relaxing and tantalizing at the same time. Who could he possibly want to find that his father would allow him use of his own hunters…? An idea seeped into his head, causing him to smile. It was at that instant he remembered something Mamoru had done a while back.
The blonde lad had been holding a book to his head, and a glass of water to the book. Hirofumi had merely regarded the odd display for a few minutes before finally speaking.
"What the hell are you doing, kiddo?!" Mamoru had jumped at that, nearly upsetting the water and dropping the book. He had wasted no time in blushing furiously, even before he answered.
"I'm… learning by osmosis," he admitted shyly. "I heard one of my friends say something about it…" Hirofumi had laughed for hours after that. Even now, he still chuckled at the fond memory he shared with his younger sibling. Precious moments like that were few and far-between now that they had grown up a little more. The young man heaved a sigh, stepping out of the shower. After he got dressed, it would be time to put his plan into action and pray for Mamoru's sake that it worked.
Thick smoke from the thick cigar floated about in the air, refusing to dissipate. It was like some sort of man-made fog, inconsistent and flawed, with some patches being thinner and less foreboding than others. Hirofumi hid a sneer at the foul smell emanating from said cigar placed between his father's fingers. It was all he could do not to slap the damn thing from the monster's hand, not to mention a few other things…
"And why should I lend you Farfellow?" the burly, much-older man asked as if the question was a burden to him.
"I need to find someone," Hirofumi answered through clenched teeth. "A former associate of mine who has skipped out on a payment." Reiji Takatori sat in his big, overstuffed leather chair, taking minor little puffs from the imported Cubano cigar in his large hand. He knew damn well his son was lying to him, and the thought of killing him for such insubordination passed through his mind more than once since the young man had entered his office. He wanted something, or more importantly, someone. Someone he felt he couldn't reveal to his own father. Reiji snorted. If this boy hadn't been his own flesh and blood, he would have lost it with him a long time ago. Hell, the only thing that kept his cousin, or 'little brother,' as he knew him, alive was Kikuno. And if he didn't love the cheating little bitch, he would have killed her when he found out she'd fucked his brother. But, alas, Shuuichi had that little accident a few years back. Too many people disregard the signs that say 'beware of ice', and frankly, no winter road was icier than Reiji's heart at that time.
"You can't have Farfellow." 'I probably should hand over that psychotic freak,' he thought amusedly. 'It'd teach this brat a thing or two or twenty.' "But I'll give you Sonomi. Don't give me that look because she's a girl. She's efficient. You are dismissed." Hirofumi looked like he was about to object, but changed his mind. 'Smart move.' His son walked curtly out of the room, his body held tensely, as if surging with anger or indignity at being denied like that. Reiji chuckled callously, taking another puff of his cigar. Why couldn't that boy be more like Masafumi?
Asuka slipped through the darkness with ease and grace she never knew she really possessed. She had gotten into the house with little to no problem. It was getting past security that had nearly gotten her. She couldn't use the maple she'd climbed last time. There just so happened to be a viscous-looking guard standing on the other side. She's had to fall back and regroup, and come up with her own strategy. Circling the complex stealthily, she'd come upon a very weak spot in the foundation of the wall, and managed to pull away a hole big enough to fit through. She'd nearly run right into three different guards trying to get to the trick window. Luckily, they'd been to engrossed in some conversation to give a damn about their jobs.
'Thank god for the lazy slackers,' she'd thought before wiggling into the dark room that waited to swallow her up. From there, into the actual dark room for photo development, she'd been slipping around things she hadn't even realized would have been in her way. Her subconscious was getting better than she thought. After exiting the dark room, she found herself once again at the stairs. Instead of climbing them, this time, she kept going to the other side, where she found another door. The blue-haired detective listened for a good five minutes for any sounds of life, and was relieved to hear none. She slowly, quietly opened the door and stepped inside.
"Holy fucking shit…" It was a laboratory. A laboratory full of grotesque, horrible images, experiments that looked as if they'd gone awry. Only, deep down inside, Asuka knew they hadn't. This cruelty was for real. "Oh god…" On the far side of the lab stood a large LCD tank with a young girl in it. Or, the remnants of a young girl. It was nearly impossible to tell what she really was anymore. Asuka felt as if she were going to throw up. Or scream. Or both. So lost in thought was the young detective that she never heard the door open, nor the body walking up behind her. Heck, she'd barely felt the prick in her arm, or the poison circulating through her blood. As her knees gave out on her, and she fell to the floor, she did manage to hear a voice saying something to her.
Masafumi grinned as he watched the pretty young woman sink to her knees, then fall onto her back. "Congratulations," he said as her eyelids drooped shut. "You're my new test subject."
Hmm, bet you didn't see that one coming. I'm so horrible. I'm treating my dear sweet Ken-chan so badly, not to mention Omittchi and poor Asuka… Okay, I'm being a monster to everyone. I hope I'm not making the angst-stuff overbearing… I don't write many angst's, so I don't know when I've laid it on too thick. What do you think?
Kourui
Chapter 10- Progress and Failure
"…Police as of yet have no suspects as to the identity of the person who robbed Hanyuu National bank last night. Investigations are underway, and the police are simply thankful that no one was hurt. According to sources, this hit was without a doubt done by a professional. All security cameras were taken offline, and there seems to be no trail left by the culprit. Stay tuned to news seven for further updates as-" Yohji pushed the off button, a satisfied smile on his visage. It had been an immaculate hit, made especially simple with bank personnel in the background helping them: setting the cameras to switch off, then washing away all traces of the 'robbery'. The Partners were most impressed when they found the close-to ¥8,000,000 in notes and precious gems from the safe-deposit boxes on their meeting table this morning. They had agreed to play along with the staged robbery of their bank, for the reason they knew their money would never really be gone. Yohji had talked to a few of them before Chyokan had, and told them it was to save a life. This really opened them up for Chyokan, who was probably patting his fat back right now at how great he was. Yohji sniffed disdainfully.
He had visited Ken the night before to tell him of their success. And had found himself face-to-face with that Kochiro character. He looked a bit upset that the honey-haired detective had dared to disturb their time. Something about that guy was starting to bug him… He had pulled Ken into his bedroom to talk to him in private, but couldn't shake the instinctive feeling they were being monitored.
"Mamoru called me," he'd said sullenly, russet eyes fixed to the ground. Yohji had done a double take.
"What?! How???"
"He said… he said the guy let him. He's okay, Yohji. He's okay. He doesn't know where he is, though." A long, heavy pause hung in the air. "Three seconds."
"Eh?" the honeyed man asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"If I could have kept the line going for three more seconds, we could've traced it." Yohji's heart went out to the agonized teen seated before him. He placed a slender hand on the now-frail shoulder, squeezing gently, reassuringly. No more words were exchanged. None were needed.
"Call me if he contacts you again," the detective called over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "Either Mamoru or our mystery kidnapper." Ken nodded and followed the older man out of the room, where Kase immediately pulled him into a warm embrace. Yohji could feel a pair of eyes trying in vain to sear a hole through him by way of death-glare. He smirked.
The bell on the door jingled, and two pairs of eyes (one set blue, one set violet) glanced up.
"Irrashaimase," two voiced called out in unison. The dirty-blonde made a face.
"That was nauseatingly cute," he murmured, putting a hand over his stomach. He couldn't help but smile when Ran glared at him and stuck his tongue out. Aya giggled. "Did you catch the news?"
"Someone robbed the Hanyuu National Bank…" Yohji's grin grew wider. "……"
Aya gasped. "Was it you, Yohji-kun?!" The older man held a finger to his smirking mouth.
"Don't tell. It's a secret." Ran gaped in sheer and utter surprise. Aya giggled furiously at the irony.
"You- you did WHAT?!" Ran bellowed over Aya-chan's giggling. "I can't believe this! How did you ever manage to pull it off?! I can't believe you were actually serious when you told Ken-" the redhead caught himself too late. The detective's smile faltered for an instant when he realized he'd been eavesdropped on. "I'm sorry, Yohji," the younger man began. "I was just walking by, and I heard voices… I'm just as worried about Ken as you are. As the rest of us are." He felt a hand squeeze his, and turned his violet gaze onto Aya, who was smiling comfortingly at him.
"Well, too late to chastise you for it now," Yohji sighed. "Just give me your soul as repentance, and we'll call it a day." Green eyes twinkled playfully at the florist, who cast one last fleeting glance at his sister.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kudou, but it's already taken." Aya smiled endearingly at her brother, tightening the grip on his hand lovingly. She turned her own gaze onto the chestnut-haired man.
"Well? Come on, let's have some details!" she demanded. "Don't hold out on us now, Yohji-kun!" Yohji grinned and waved them off, away from the prying ears of the public who just might overhear. When everyone had situated themselves in the back room, he began.
"Well," he said in his most supercilious voice, "It was no easy feat, but of course, nothing is too challenging for the great Kudou Yohji." A snort and snigger ripped through the air. Green eye glared at a certain redhead who was violently trying not to laugh. He was failing. A deep, rich chortling filled the air of the back room, and pale alabaster cheeks flushed a crimson that rivaled their owner's hair.
"I- I'm sorry-" He tried in the gulps of air he gasped between cackles to apologize, but the words just would not come to him. Yohji cleared his throat loudly, and Ran finally managed to subside his amusement.
"AS I was saying," the honeyed man growled. "We gained permission from the bank Partners, so they didn't think they had a real robbery on their hands. Then, we talked a few of the night janitors and a security guard into helping us out for twenty percent of the profits."
"Wow," Aya breathed. "Well, they'd be fools to turn down the cops." Jade eyes twinkled. "They… did know you were cops… right?"
"Let's just say they have the thanks of the thirteenth precinct, and pink slips from the Partners. We did that bank a favour, I think."
"Do the local police know?"
"Nope," Yohji answered proudly. "We tricked everyone. Oh, don't give me that look, Ran. We left so many red-herrings for the cops to find that they'll never catch on until it's safe for the Partners to claim the money as secure," he added. The redhead didn't look very convinced, but he let the issue drop.
"How's Ken…?" Ran tested.
"Exhausted. Frenetic. In the midst of a breakdown. Mamoru managed to get a hold of him, though, and that helped, I think. I just wish there was more I could do for him."
"You're doing all you can, Yohji-kun," Aya spoke softly, her eyes reflecting with honesty and sincerity. "And that's enough." There was a comfortable silence that spread through the room, filling it and its occupants.
"As long as there's hope…" Ran started. He never finished that sentence. He never needed to.
Mamoru nursed the drink in his hands in complete silence. Kase had been talking to him, trying to keep him company. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the gesture to keep his sanity from being held and being alone so much, but… Frankly, ever since the blonde had realized who he was dealing with, he'd been shifting moods like a pregnant woman at 9 months. At first, there had been this heart-wrenching sorrow. It had hurt so much to think that someone who Ken loved so much, someone who had pretended to care so much for him for… (Who knew how long? Months? Years? Ever???) …could betray him like this. Indeed, Mamoru had been so distraught, he'd cried himself into sleep.
When he awoke, the sorrow had disappeared. The only thing he'd felt then was anger and hatred. How DARE Kase turn his back on Ken like that?! If the older man had been there right then, Mamoru would have ripped him limb from limb, or at least he liked to think he would. He seethed in a murderous rage for hours, wishing there was something there to take aggressions out on besides the chair. He didn't want to lose a place to sit, truth be told, he didn't want to sit on the cold, hard floor…
Eventually, the ire and fury died down and replaced itself with stark confusion, which was at the state he remained at now in the dark, with the blindfold over his eyes, listening to Kase's voice hold conversation with him.
"So how is your side doing today?" Mamoru was jilted from his musings at the question pertaining to the injury the man had given him the day before when Mamoru had been talking with his brother, giving him secret clues that were just a tad bit too obvious. His hand went subconsciously to his side, and the shallow wound beneath the rumpled tee shirt.
"It's fine," he answered honestly. He'd been grateful it was a shallow wound. He'd inspected it a bit when Kase had led him to the bathroom earlier, when the blonde was between moods. He'd been able to take a shower, which had felt WONDERFUL. After, he'd found a fresh set of clothes waiting for him. There was just so much he didn't understand about his captor. Kase was like an onion, he'd determined, with layer upon layer upon layer, and no matter how much you peeled, there was always something else there to block your way from finding out what's really underneath it all. Okay, maybe it wasn't a great analogy, but it was the best explanation Mamoru could give himself before he drove himself mad with unanswered and unanswerable questions.
"I'm glad," the voice said. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I can't have you giving away information like that. Just play along and do what you're told, and you won't get hurt."
"Aa." An insistent pause hung in the air until Mamoru finally asked the question that had been nagging him for so long. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"All of this. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? When you first kidnapped me, you threatened my life, hit me, you even…" The sentence trailed off. Mamoru thought it be best to leave out the lick. He shuddered. "And all of a sudden, you started… you know, treating me like someone that wasn't being forcibly held and used to wreak havoc against someone else." He couldn't hide the disdain and spite in his voice with that last comment. He was less than pleased at being a tool for hurting one he cared about. He heard the rustling of clothes, which sounded like the older man was shrugging.
"I don't know. There was no reason to be uncivil toward you. You haven't really done anything to deserve it." Truth be told, Kase felt almost guilty about using the young boy as a pawn in his revenge scheme, but it was necessary. There was no one else he could use that would instill such a fear and worry of well-being in the goalie. The brown-haired man downed the last of his drink and stood, watching Mamoru lift his head to follow the sound. The kid's senses were getting a little sharper, he noticed. From somewhere far away, the sound of a phone ringing drifted into the basement or room or whatever they were in. "I have to get that," he announced quickly. "Feel free to help yourself to any of the drinks or things down here."
Mamoru listened to the hurried footsteps until he heard the door shutting in the distance. Immediately after, he ripped the cloth from his eyes, azure orbs sparkling with hope. He hadn't heard the door lock. The boy raced to up the flight of stairs and, swallowing his apprehensions, placed his hand on the knob. It turned. His heart leapt into his throat as the door swung open slowly, and silently by the grace of God. He could hear Kase's voice faintly in the distance. He seemed to be in an office building of some sort or another. Only, it didn't appear to be in use, nor had it been for quite some time, he could tell that much. He had no clue where he was, and it didn't matter. He slinked away soundlessly until he found an open window. Yes, using a door would be too risky. Kase might see it from the corner of his eye, or it could squeak… too much could and probably would go wrong. Instead, the blonde youth slipped his young, slender form between the frame and the pane, falling about ten feet before hitting solid ground. The sun was shining gently in the early morning sky. Sunlight. He was free. If this had been a game, or frankly any other situation, he would have laughed, whooped and hollered at his victory. Somehow, that didn't seem a good idea at the time. He did what any other even semi-intelligent person did at a time like this.
He ran like hell.
Hirofumi punched the red bag hanging from the ceiling with fervor unbeknownst to him before. Someone had his brother. Someone had his goddamn little brother! The one person in this whole fucked up world that had ever meant anything to him! And there was nothing he could do to help him. Sure, he could follow in his father's footsteps and have a price put on Mamoru's safe returning, and add a bonus for the head of his captor, but he was disgusted enough that he had been pressured into his 'family business', and refused to take such unnecessary measures. He wondered briefly if his father would give a damn that his youngest son had been abducted. 'Probably not, the sick fuck. He'd most likely thank the guy for doing what he couldn't eight years ago.'
Hirofumi struck the punching bag again, anger and frustration gaining him a second wind. After another thirty minutes or so of this intense body- wracking workout, the man collapsed onto the matted floor, his breath arriving to him in short, shallow gasps. 'Mamoru…' His father had always wanted the middle child to be more like him. Now seemed the perfect time to start.
The young man plodded to his room and stepped into the shower, wondering how to go about tricking his father into lending him the sources he needed to find this bastard. He couldn't come right out and say, 'Hey, pop, Mamo-chan's been kidnapped. You know, the kid you hate? Yeah, well I want him back. Can I get a list of your best bounty hunters? Hey, thanks!' He chuckled at the thought, though it was a rueful laugh. A sigh escaped him as he felt the water running over him, relaxing and tantalizing at the same time. Who could he possibly want to find that his father would allow him use of his own hunters…? An idea seeped into his head, causing him to smile. It was at that instant he remembered something Mamoru had done a while back.
The blonde lad had been holding a book to his head, and a glass of water to the book. Hirofumi had merely regarded the odd display for a few minutes before finally speaking.
"What the hell are you doing, kiddo?!" Mamoru had jumped at that, nearly upsetting the water and dropping the book. He had wasted no time in blushing furiously, even before he answered.
"I'm… learning by osmosis," he admitted shyly. "I heard one of my friends say something about it…" Hirofumi had laughed for hours after that. Even now, he still chuckled at the fond memory he shared with his younger sibling. Precious moments like that were few and far-between now that they had grown up a little more. The young man heaved a sigh, stepping out of the shower. After he got dressed, it would be time to put his plan into action and pray for Mamoru's sake that it worked.
Thick smoke from the thick cigar floated about in the air, refusing to dissipate. It was like some sort of man-made fog, inconsistent and flawed, with some patches being thinner and less foreboding than others. Hirofumi hid a sneer at the foul smell emanating from said cigar placed between his father's fingers. It was all he could do not to slap the damn thing from the monster's hand, not to mention a few other things…
"And why should I lend you Farfellow?" the burly, much-older man asked as if the question was a burden to him.
"I need to find someone," Hirofumi answered through clenched teeth. "A former associate of mine who has skipped out on a payment." Reiji Takatori sat in his big, overstuffed leather chair, taking minor little puffs from the imported Cubano cigar in his large hand. He knew damn well his son was lying to him, and the thought of killing him for such insubordination passed through his mind more than once since the young man had entered his office. He wanted something, or more importantly, someone. Someone he felt he couldn't reveal to his own father. Reiji snorted. If this boy hadn't been his own flesh and blood, he would have lost it with him a long time ago. Hell, the only thing that kept his cousin, or 'little brother,' as he knew him, alive was Kikuno. And if he didn't love the cheating little bitch, he would have killed her when he found out she'd fucked his brother. But, alas, Shuuichi had that little accident a few years back. Too many people disregard the signs that say 'beware of ice', and frankly, no winter road was icier than Reiji's heart at that time.
"You can't have Farfellow." 'I probably should hand over that psychotic freak,' he thought amusedly. 'It'd teach this brat a thing or two or twenty.' "But I'll give you Sonomi. Don't give me that look because she's a girl. She's efficient. You are dismissed." Hirofumi looked like he was about to object, but changed his mind. 'Smart move.' His son walked curtly out of the room, his body held tensely, as if surging with anger or indignity at being denied like that. Reiji chuckled callously, taking another puff of his cigar. Why couldn't that boy be more like Masafumi?
Asuka slipped through the darkness with ease and grace she never knew she really possessed. She had gotten into the house with little to no problem. It was getting past security that had nearly gotten her. She couldn't use the maple she'd climbed last time. There just so happened to be a viscous-looking guard standing on the other side. She's had to fall back and regroup, and come up with her own strategy. Circling the complex stealthily, she'd come upon a very weak spot in the foundation of the wall, and managed to pull away a hole big enough to fit through. She'd nearly run right into three different guards trying to get to the trick window. Luckily, they'd been to engrossed in some conversation to give a damn about their jobs.
'Thank god for the lazy slackers,' she'd thought before wiggling into the dark room that waited to swallow her up. From there, into the actual dark room for photo development, she'd been slipping around things she hadn't even realized would have been in her way. Her subconscious was getting better than she thought. After exiting the dark room, she found herself once again at the stairs. Instead of climbing them, this time, she kept going to the other side, where she found another door. The blue-haired detective listened for a good five minutes for any sounds of life, and was relieved to hear none. She slowly, quietly opened the door and stepped inside.
"Holy fucking shit…" It was a laboratory. A laboratory full of grotesque, horrible images, experiments that looked as if they'd gone awry. Only, deep down inside, Asuka knew they hadn't. This cruelty was for real. "Oh god…" On the far side of the lab stood a large LCD tank with a young girl in it. Or, the remnants of a young girl. It was nearly impossible to tell what she really was anymore. Asuka felt as if she were going to throw up. Or scream. Or both. So lost in thought was the young detective that she never heard the door open, nor the body walking up behind her. Heck, she'd barely felt the prick in her arm, or the poison circulating through her blood. As her knees gave out on her, and she fell to the floor, she did manage to hear a voice saying something to her.
Masafumi grinned as he watched the pretty young woman sink to her knees, then fall onto her back. "Congratulations," he said as her eyelids drooped shut. "You're my new test subject."
Hmm, bet you didn't see that one coming. I'm so horrible. I'm treating my dear sweet Ken-chan so badly, not to mention Omittchi and poor Asuka… Okay, I'm being a monster to everyone. I hope I'm not making the angst-stuff overbearing… I don't write many angst's, so I don't know when I've laid it on too thick. What do you think?
Kourui