"Ah, Omi," Ken sighed, leaning backwards in his chair precariously. "You're such a genius."
Omi had decided that they would go to one of his favorite restaurants—one that none of the other members of Weiss knew about. It was a place where he hung out almost exclusively with his other school friends, far away from the Koneko. Far away from his school. Essentially, pretty damn far from every important landmark.
That was part of the charm, you see.
It was a cute little bistro that was, in a way, reminiscent of the flower shop—partially because of the large number of potted plants, and partially because of the large amounts of young females dining there.
Omi liked it. It always seemed to be sunny inside, and the plants definitely added to it. He'd grown rather fond of plants in the time he'd worked at the Koneko, after all.
"Omi, Omi, Omi," Ken said again, contentedly. He'd been telling Omi what a genius he was for the last ten minutes or so. Repeatedly.
Not that Omi minded, or anything.
"You know what the best part of this is?" Ken asked, leaning over the table toward Omi.
"What?" Omi asked suspiciously. Ken had that look again, and so he wondered aloud, "Do I really want to know, Ken?"
Ken grinned rakishly.
"The best part is, once Aya gets that hair shit, I don't have to do him a favor! It's not like Yohji will still want to kill me then, so what do I have to worry about?"
Omi balked at the absurdity of this.
"Hello? Ken?! You'll have to worry about Aya wanting to kill you!"
"Nah…" Ken replied nonchalantly. "He won't be mad. He'll probably forget all about it by then anyway, Omi. Pretty soon I'll be in the clear, and I'll still have shiny hair!"
Omi blinked.
"Why, Ken," he said. "I've never seen this side to you before. I didn't know you could be so… so…"
Ken raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"Cunning?" he asked, grinning.
"Duplicitous," Omi confessed.
Ken continued grinning.
"Is that a good thing?" he asked, still oozing puerile happiness.
Omi shook his head sadly and looked at the menu once again.
"Hey, you know what else?" Ken asked excitedly.
"…what?" Omi asked hesitantly.
"Now that Yohji'll have a full bottle of conditioner again, I can keep using it every day! I'll always have shiny hair! Forever!" Ken giggled.
Omi was a little bit afraid by this point, and, despite the fact that they'd escaped Yohji's grasp, his bad feeling hadn't gone away entirely…
**
Somewhere else entirely, Crawford stopped walking, clutched at his temples, and crumpled to the ground. Three feet ahead of him, Shuldig also stopped walking.
"What? What happened?" the telepath asked, although it was obvious from his tone that he really didn't much care, except for the fact that Crawford's distress was delaying him.
"Paaaiiiin," Crawford wheezed out.
Now slightly more worried, Shuldig took a step toward his fallen comrade.
"What happened?" he asked again.
"I just… saw… the most hideous thing…"
"What?! Where?"
"Here," Crawford said enigmatically, tapping his forehead.
"…You know, I just thought of something. If I can read minds, and you can see the future, then shouldn't I be able to mind-read your predictions, and thus be a prophet, myself?"
"…Uh, right, Shuldig."
"So anyway, what did you just see?"
Crawford shuddered violently.
"Buy me a drink," he said, "And I'll tell you."
**
Omi was about to remark on how stupid Ken was being, and how dead he was going to be, when suddenly there was a commotion at the front of the restaurant. Suddenly, the people sitting near the large front window screamed and scattered, an occasional few looking back in terror at the window.
Omi stood up quickly, unsure of what was going on. He glanced up at the window, and suddenly he saw.
"Oh, GOD!" Omi shrieked, pressing his hands to his cheeks. "He's gone insane!"
Ken, who had been basking in the glory of his shiny hair, failed completely to notice the ruckus. He looked up as Omi yelled.
"What—" he started to ask, but was cut off as the glass of the front window exploded inward, allowing a car, of all things, through.
A car named Seven, to be specific.
Ken and Omi both dove underneath overturned tables in order to protect themselves.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" Yohji crooned, stepping out of the car. Omi could hear the door slam shut, and the crackle of broken glass under Yohji's feet. He dared a peak over the edge of his table.
Now, instead of a hat, as he had previously had on, Yohji wore a swim cap, which was also duct-taped to the sides of his face.
But it wasn't just any swim cap—oh no. It had flowers all over it. It was just like a 1950s horror film, Omi decided. …One in which June Cleaver loses it.
"Ken," Yohji said sweetly, taking another step forward. And then, once more, "Ken," only it was a growl this time.
"…It's only a matter of time, precious," Yohji said sweetly again. "After all, I tracked you all the way here—finding you now should be no difficulty."
He paused, and Omi could hear him moving around again. Unfortunately, Omi could not see where Ken had chosen to hide.
"And when I do find you," Yohji continued in that same sweetly malicious voice, "I'm going to cover you in honey and tie you to a tree. With a wasp's nest."
Be strong, Ken, Omi thought. He tried to project waves of fortitude to Ken, wherever he was.
"And then, I'm going to get you down from the tree, and I'm going to tie you up in the garage. And I'm going to beat your stupid crotch-rocket-motorcycle into shrapnel with a tire iron. While you watch."
"Be strong, Kenken!" Omi continued to think.
"Then I'm going to dress you like a woman and hang you upside down from a tree in city park, where everyone can see you and laugh at you!
"And still, none of it will compare to the anguish you've caused my hair. I'll never recover, Hidaka Ken! I hope you feel good about yourself! I hope you're happy!"
Omi heard Yohji take another step. He peaked around his table again in time to see Yohji violently kick a fallen chair.
"Still not scared, are you? Well if that's not enough… I'm going to go into your room, Ken, and I'm going to break every trophy you've ever won. And you know what else? I'm going to hide your ball-pump. And then… I'm going to deflate every single one of your soccer balls."
"Shit," was all Omi could manage to think.
And across the room, Ken whimpered softly.
Yohji acted quickly, and before Omi knew quite what had happened, he had Ken out from behind the table and against the wall.
"You scum bag," Yohji hissed at Ken. "I will get you for this. I will."
Omi stood up slowly from behind his own table.
"Yohji, please," he begged. "You know that you don't really mean this. It's not really a big deal, Yohji. Please…don't do any of that. Please?" Omi gave Yohji his best puppy dog eyes, ever.
Yohji's expression softened for a minute, but then hardened once again.
"You betrayed me, too!" he yelled across the restaurant. "You lied, saying you hadn't seen Ken! I trusted you!"
"Yohji, you're—"
"SILENCE!" Yohji shouted, pulling a gag and rope out of his pockets. He proceeded to truss Ken up like a piggy goin' to market. Ken's eyes shone with mortal fear the whole time. Yohji, once finished, pushed him toward the car. Ken moved obediently, resigned to his fate.
"Coming?" Yohji asked Omi sweetly once he was back in the driver's seat.
Omi sighed. As if he had a choice.