*****4*****
Dreams are fragile.
Every fantasy played out in dear Dreamland is a vase of flowers teetering on the edge of insanity. Much in the world calms the spirit, but madness is far more interesting, blossoming from the many vacant thoughts in our heads.
The world is even more frail. How long before the glass shatters, ending billions of lives by a jaded breeze? How many voices must cry out for retribution and redemption before our dying communities know mercy?
Life seems pretty pointless in a perspective such as this: All the world is out to get you, no one is on your side or coming to your rescue, hope is a forgotten symbol of the past, and death is a way of life.
Wrong.
Yes, oh yes, that constant wind beats upon the shuttered windows of cracking glass, but only in a vain attempt at getting in. Acceptance is all it searches for, not destruction as so many believe. If only the blind populous had eyes to see what they again and again are turning away. If only a few, small men grew tall - even if only for a breath - it would be enough.
That is a small hope: 'if only...' But it is a hope - a destination - worth striving for.
*****
Shadows dance upon the wall, falling in hues of greys and blues as they twirl about in the spaciously small room. There is a door and a window, but nothing else occupies this trifling space. Nothing except the seven haunting eyes peering out of the glass upon the pavement below.
Biting cold rips through the cracks in the weathered walls, blowing in with the relentless wind. A heated breath produces silver mist from any who would dare to breathe, but the men keeping close watch on those in the parking lot quite a few stories down produce nothing.
Nothing.
"Looks like our hired help won't be getting their payment." a nasal, humored voice states, its owner's jade eyes following the path of an easily disregarded car as it squeals off into the night.
"Hmph." Brad Crawford admonishes, eyeing the red-head at his side. "Pay attention to the real importance of tonight, would you? We have to know what we may be facing in days to come."
Lined up as bell-tower guardians, Schwartz continues to observe the commotion below: Weiss meeting up with the greatest threat any shade of justice has yet to encounter.
Nagi stands on Brad's left, his face pressed nearest to the glass, while Farfarello is on the opposite end beside Schuldrich. There is a heavy sense of expectancy in the crisp air; it has been a long time since any of them have had a taste of personified hatred, and the craving is inescapable.
Nevertheless, one member never truly had an appetite for such things. (What threat could these women be to us...?) Nagi wonders. (They allowed those men to leave unharmed, and even with perfect opportunity to kill Weiss, they seem to be waiting for something. But what...? What else is it about them? What isn't Crawford telling us...?)
(You think too much, kid.) an unwanted guest speaks into the boy's mind. (Don't question the means. It's a waste of breath, and you don't have any to spare.)
Nagi grimaces, leaning back from the window to glare at Schuldrich as he replies, speaking so only the two of them can hear. (Can't I think *anything* without you listening in?) His mind's voice asks brutally. (You always defend Crawford. Are you his watch dog, making sure I don't betray him by thinking for myself?)
The young boy's mind is filled with coarse laughter at this, and Schuldrich's shining eyes prove it is difficult for him to keep his amusement from being voiced aloud. (That girl's made you soft.) he taunts. (And here I thought you were about as tender and smooth-skinned as they come long before she tickled your boyhood itch.)
Gathering all his mental strength into blocking the red-head's cynical speech from his mind, Nagi turns back to the window. He cannot bear another moment of the same conversation. He is Schwartz, and Schwartz is his life. Period.
Still, as he watches the events below him, his tortured mind unwillingly wonders...
(What will come of this...?)
*****
What will be an end to this? What will be a beginning?
Icicles creep up the spine, for the wind refuses to settle. The sharp breeze blows on, unmerciful, freezing every particle of air and leaving none fit to breathe. It is as if all question of reality has been cut off before the buzzer, and two conflicting teams are taking the first step towards revolution.
"Dispel whatever assumptions you have, Abyssinian. We are not what you think."
The voice is smooth and low-toned, hypnotizing. Aiko holds her katana nonchalantly at her side, only feet from Ran as he stays poised dangerously with his still drawn. The scene unfolds like an old movie real, with the backdrop - the other paired off opposites - remaining motionless, lifeless, and questioning for their next move.
"You interfered with our mission and ambushed us into an attack." Ran replies through clenched teeth. "I don't care *what* you are, or what you think you know about us! You have no right to -"
"Don't you ever just shut up and listen?!" A high-pitched and annoyed voice interrupts, sounding from the short, young sprite nearly hidden behind Omi as she continues to hold him in place. "Aiko's trying to talk to you guys, ya big meanie!"
Humored pause. "Sokoke..." the calm red-head speaks in a warning tone, addressing the miffed brunette. "The air is too unsettled. Let's play it their way...if that's how it must be."
In answer, the girl grunts disappointedly, hating to be corrected.
(I thought her name was Amaya...?) Omi ponders, forgetting for a moment to fear whatever sharp object she has pressed into his backbone. (Sokoke...? Isn't that a -)
Sudden movement in front of him breaks the stillness, ripping Omi's thoughts away. Aiko and Ran are no longer stationary. Now, they are once again locked in steel pressure, after the supposedly peaceful, red-haired young woman jerked into action.
Cling! Sharp sounds of metal on metal pierce the air, stilling the breeze.
"Is this all you understand...Abyssinian?" Aiko whispers, pale faces so uncomfortably close. "I had hoped we could talk this through, but I knew it would take a bit more incentive for you to calmly listen to what I have to say."
Ran's eyes penetrate with fury in reply. (I knew there was something about them...they know who we are...)
"We confronted you here tonight for a reason." Aiko continues, straining her weapon against Ran's as they sink to the ground from matched strength. "We let those men go for a reason, as well. We only chose this way of confronting you because violence is your way of life, but that does not mean we are a threat to you. Are you willing to listen to what we have to say without shedding blood tonight, or must this become more difficult before you'll see reason?"
"Who *are* you?!" Ran bellows.
With a last burst of force, Aiko thrusts him away from her, sending him tumbling to the ground. A smile plays on her lips as she watches the young man's sword slip from his hand, leaving him vulnerable. She crouches down next to his fallen, surprised form then, her voice still perfectly collected as she speaks.
"You keep asking the same question, even after I've given you answers. I think I know what you are waiting to hear." She bends her head close to his, and Ran's body stiffens with uncertainty as she whispers. "I am Korat...as you are Abyssinian. I too have a mission, and the same man you once believed in is the one who sent me to complete it."
*****
The restless night hovers suspended and incomplete. Whatever Schwartz expected to see has most definately fallen short.
Miraculously, the wind appears to have been pacified, no longer whipping harsh comments at the walls. Of the four men remaining before the window, few, oh so many few, truly understand what it is they are watching begin.
(Words...why do they choose words over action...?) the dark, scrambled mind of a lost lamb wonders, his golden eye trained on the sight through the glass. (Idle hands do so much more damage than idle words...)
Stretching out his mind into the sacred spaces of his team mates - as he so often does - Schuldrich catches the peculiar thoughts from Farfarello, grinning with the taste of it. He could always count on Farfie to add a dose of philosophy to every craving for bloodshed.
(That's my Farf...) the German smirks to himself. (...a hell of a lot more frightening when he's calm, and constantly questioning why anyone would do anything unless it's to injure the invulnerable hand of God. Hehe...) he turns slightly, looking his other team mates over with deep penitration. (Then there's Naoe...)
(What does this have to do with us...? Why doesn't Crawford tell us everything that's going on...?)
(...still doubting with questions he shouldn't ask.) Schu grins, mental laughter purring throught the stillness of unheard voices. (And of course...my dear Bradley...)
(......)
(...blocking me out, as always.)
Devilishly, Schuldrich traces the American's face with his eyes, devouring any hint of what the man may be thinking. Brad Crawford is always a mystery, which is what makes him so appealing and attracting to the smirking red-head. He loves being held in suspense, a pleasure he all too often is robbed of.
Noticing Schu's gaze, Brad flicks his eyes to the side, frowning at this obvious invasion. But, just then, an idea strikes him, and causes him to smile despite himself. "You've just volunteered yourself, Schuldrich." he states with smug authority.
"Volunteered?"
Brad's smirk grows. "Volunteered." he restates. "You're going to go down there and retrieve our package."
*****
The one thing forgotten about down there, was the unretrieved package.
Dirt-layered, brown paper fades into the outlines of the concrete, playing tricks on the mind. Not that it really would have mattered; more important conflicts are in progress, causing those involved to completely forget the once important object ever existed.
(They flew in out of no where - with weapons - just to talk?!) Hidaka Ken's frantic thoughts whirl in uncontrollable patterns, stiff and on-guard as he remains on his back upon the cold pavement.
Kei Nori, dusk-colored tendrils of hair calmed on her shoulders with the ceasing wind, still hovers above him, her staff poised inches from the young assassin's chest.
"Ready to listen then?" Aiko asks lightly, standing up from her low position beside the fallen, red-haired leader. "I know you think we are rather suspicious, especially considering how we have chosen to introduce ourselves tonight, but it couldn't be helped." Fluid motion stretches out a naked, white hand in assistance to Ran, just as that same hand had been offered to him earlier in the day. "Well...Abyssinian?"
Where has the chilled, fiercely driving wind escaped to? Suddenly the air is almost too sweltering to breathe. Nonetheless, with hesitant defeat Ran accepts those gentle fingers with his leather-clad hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.
"Talk then." his deep, embittered tone demands, violet eyes remaining narrowed on the wisteria irises of the woman standing before him.
"Back down, girls." Aiko states instantly at this acceptance, her authority laced with motherly undertone as she addresses her teammates with a smile.
On cue, weapons and intimidation fall away.
The curvaceous blonde releases Youji swiftly, slipping her dagger back into its place at her hip as she steps up next to him, while he takes this opportunity to eye her curiously, instinctively breathing a sigh of relief that he is no longer under the threat of her weapon.
Amaya, the petite brunette behind Omi, does much the same, and as she comes parallel with her young counterpart, he finally notices what weapon she had been holding him stable with. A leather gauntlet-like covering forms over the girl's arm from her wrist to her elbow, and fixed on top is a miniature, detachable cross-bow. Inquisitively, Omi finds instant fascination with it, but his brilliant, cobalt eyes drift to the lock of silver from her temple with even more curiousity. He hadn't taken as much notice to it before, but in the light of the silver moon, it shines with etherial wonder.
Between those two pairs, Ken begins to pick himself up from the ground after Nori reluctantly steps back, offering him no hint of aid. The simple, wooden weapon of choice she holds so maliciously is oddly plain, making him wonder if there is more to it than she is allowing them to see.
"To begin..." Aiko starts, tilting her head in a shimmer of crimson waves. "...what we shall tell you is the truth, because we have no reason to lie." Slowly and with purpose, she circles around Ran, tossing her gaze out to the other assassins. "We share quite a few similarities, you know...Abyssinian, Siberian, Bombay, and Balinese? Why don't I introduce us to you properly? As I've said, I am Korat, though you met me before as Rosuto Aiko. *This* little elf..." she continues playfully, gesturing to the emerald-eyed girl beside Omi. "...is Sokoke. Or, as I'm sure she introduced herself earlier, Yawarakai Amaya. Next, the sour-looking one near Siberian there, is Somali. Kei Nori, otherwise, though it will take quite a bit to warm up to her if you want the privilege of calling her that."
Ken, in reflex, lets out a confirming huff at this, eyeing the girl who is so gladly a few feet away from him, though no amount of space between them could be enough for either one.
(Even if someone actually wanted to melt that ice-princess...) the hot-headed brunette thinks harshly. (...there'd be nothing worth knowing underneath.)
Similar as well as not so similar thoughts echo randomly from each person standing awkwardly on the pavement of the empty parking lot, streaming easily, too easily perhaps, into the clutches of the eager night wind.
With movement exceedingly quick for even the sharpest eyes, a figure has slipped behind a nearby tree, and is peering out at the mismatched group, happily absorbing every wanton word of mind thrown his way.
(Delicious...) purrs the thoughts of this newcommer, with lips curling back slightly from sensation, as the German tosses a stray strand of sunset hair from his green eyes. (I'll have to volunteer more often.) Blurred feet transition to another tree, his hungry mind reaching out. (Oh, how I'd love to play a bit...but Bradley'll be in a hell of a pissy mood tonight if I loose that book.)
Now that he has positioned himself accordingly, the forgotten package is even closer to his ready hands than to any of the others listening in on Aiko's words.
"And finally..." the red-head finishes, smiling towards her well-endowed, yet somewhat shorter, friend. "...the lovely creature beside Balinese there, is fittingly known as Burmese. Chin Hiromi, otherwise, and believe me she is -"
"Quite a nice piece of ass, wouldn't you say?"
Dangerous pause.
Schuldrich arrogantly steps out from behind his hiding place on this brave comment, completely at ease as he makes his presence known, while the others all tense in alert, reaching for their weapons.
"I'd take that back, if I were you!" Hiromi bellows angrily, her dagger held threateningly in nimble fingers. She takes a step towards Schu then, but doesn't get very far before a firm grip on her shoulder holds her back.
"Careful, gorgeous. He's more trouble than he's worth."
Gold-flecked, emerald eyes narrow past a misplaced pair of shades as Youji gently and sternly holds the blonde in place. Though it has been nearly a year since Weiss' last battle with Schwartz, he recognizes the German red-head all too well.
"It's Schuldrich!" Omi states in a frantic whisper, whipping out his darts protectively.
All of them are stiff, eyeing the grinning antagonist with great apprehension. Aiko especially seems caught off guard by this unexpected appearance, her usually passive features filled with faltering panic.
Ran's suspicions, however, instantly stray. There is something far too coincidental about all this. "Fools! They were planning this all along!" he cries, his arm aching to reach for the katana at his feet. "They're in league with Schwartz!"
Aiko's ever-present smile fades even more, but any retort she might offer to dispel this belief is cut off by glorious laughter sounding from the odd-man-out beside the tree.
"The truth behind these vixens is alot more interesting than that, Fujimiya." Schuldrich grins. "But, as much as I'd love to discuss it with you, I really must be on my way." He reaches down to the ground then with a long, slender arm, snatching up the forgotten package from the pavement. "And by the way..." he adds, smirking devilishly at the female red-head who is still at a loss for words. "...thanks for getting rid of the middle men. I'm always grateful for a little extra cash."
Just then, a screech of tires and flash of bright lights bursts from around the corner of the Kokaido building, and a black car is suddenly speeding towards them. Tinted windows prevent the group from seeing who is in the vehicle, but as the driver's window rolls down, all recognize the figure behind the wheel.
"Get in." Brad Crawford commands, pulling up behind Schuldrich. Obediently, the grinning German rushes to the passenger side with a flurry, the package tucked safely in his arms.
All are speechless. The events of the night are passing in a blur.
Brad passes his bronzed eyes over the oddly-matched crew, pushing his glasses back on to the bridge of his nose - having slipped slightly, as they often do - with a steady hand. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." the American states with a twisted smile, looking Aiko over with intrigue. Then, moving his gaze to the hardened-features of Fujimiya Ran, Brad's smile twists even further. "As for you...we'll meet again...Weiss."
With a roar of the engine, sounding more like the howl of a hell-beast than the purr of a kitten, the car drives off within a cloud of upturned dirt, leaving Brad's final thoughts to linger and fall back hauntingly to the ground.
(She's the one...I'm certain of it.)
*****
The night had barely begun...and they were well aware.
Shining high in the midnight sky, the moon glitters with silver light, casting eerie shadows into every corner and onto every looming wall. The darkness whispers with the last traces of wind, calling, longing, caressing the window panes of "Kitty in the House" as it strains to reach the heated air within. Of course, the air is heated for a reason.
"Are you out of your mind inviting them here?! They ambushed us!!"
Row after row of residents down the street are pleasantly sleeping the hours away, but in the cramped basement of the neighborhood's favorite flower shop, every particle of life is wide awake.
"We're *in* the room, ya know?! You don't have to be such a jerk about this!"
Hidaka Ken and the memorable, little brunette with large, green eyes are nose to nose. Well...her upturned nose to his extremely tensed neck, to be more accurate.
"Calm down, sweetheart." Youji intervenes sternly, grabbing the girl's elbow as he pulls her away from Ken. "We're the ones who allowed you down here, so I suggest you be more respectful."
Amaya, glaring up into the pair of emerald eyes so similar to her own, wrenches her arm away from him, just as another raised temper comes to her rescue.
"Don't you touch her!!" Nori warns, stepping swiftly from where she had been scowling against the wall, her navy curls bouncing against her shoulders as she stalks closer to the group. "It's just like someone of your capacity to be reprimanding her for something your own team mate did first!"
"Sure, attack *me*, you ice witch!!" Ken roars, clenching his fist and inadvertently releasing the claws he has yet to take off. "What the hell were you doing out there tonight, anyway!? Some act of self-righteous bullshit is my bet!!
"That's enough!" a frighteningly deep voice shouts above the rest. "We want answers, not arguments!"
Ran - being the last to climb down the stairs into Weiss' basement headquarters - is standing just at the foot of the steps with sulfuric acid burning in his violet eyes. Though Omi had been the one to suggest they gather here to talk things out, Ran had surprisingly not objected, even thought it did violate many of their codes of security. Taking this into account, however, he is not about to lose an opportunity at uncovering the truth behind these women, especially not over some petty bickering.
"Now, I want you to tell us everything." the red-head continues, looking to each member of the mysterious group, Fluesternd, though his eyes linger most on their apparent leader, who is leaning against the wall just to his left. "What gives you the right to not only let our targets escape, but to leave us open and vulnerable for attack from our most dangerous enemy? Tell me that. Or don't you have an answer?"
Since leaving the Kokaido Factory behind, neither Aiko nor Nori - save the blue-haired young woman's recent outburst - had said a word. It was awkward how the common smile upon the pale-faced leader vanishing made everything feel wrong somehow. Even now, her face is blank, as if deep in thought.
"That's it! I've had enough of these ego-trips!"
The erupted voice, fitting right in with the mood of the night, has come from Hiromi on the other side of the room. Hands on her distinctly-shaped hips, she stalks forward.
"If you want answers, then act like it! What have we done to deserve being treated like this?!"
"What have you done?!" Youji retorts incredulously. "Well, toots, if I remember correctly, you gave us one fine good morning earlier today! Not to mention...oh...uhhh...threatening us with sharp objects!!"
"Well, from the looks of things, I'd say you deserved it!"
"Oh, yeah?!" Youji throws right back. "At least we know how to do our job, as long as a bunch of brainless beauty queens aren't messing things up!"
"Listen, you incompetent little miscreant!" Nori jumps in. "If you weren't so full of your own precious, little lives you would know what was going on by now!"
Seeing an opening, Ken can't possibly let that slide. "The less we know about you, the better, if you ask me!"
"Don't you dare talk to her like that!" Hiromi barks in Nori's defense.
"And what are you gonna do about it?!" Ken replies, just as severely.
"Rearrange that pretty-boy face of yours, that's what!"
"Umm...minna...maybe we should -" Omi tries, having stayed out of the impossible situation up till now...
"I'd like to see you try!"
...but not being too successful at finally trying to break things up.
"Bite me!" Hiromi snaps.
This gives Youji a very welcome idea for rebuttal. "Don't ask for it if you don't mean it, *sweetheart*!"
"Stop calling me that!!!"
The pressure continues to build and build until one might expect the walls would blow apart from the stress. Harsh voices and stinging words continue to grow, until finally, one of the many so consumed in heated rantings realizes she has had enough.
"SHUT UP!!!!!"
Silence. Not a muffling, stagger of voices until the air goes still, but a sudden and complete cut of sound. Frozen, angry expressions send piercing gazes at Amaya, who has so rudely broken up their invigorating fight.
Haughtily, the short brunette tosses her shimmering hair over her shoulder with a flicker of movement. "That's more like it." she smiles, rather pleased with herself.
Not even slightly amused by her cheerful countenance, Ran turns to her sourly, opening his mouth to speak. "..........." But nothing comes out. Not a peep. In fearful wonder, he tries again, but it is as if his voice isn't there at all anymore.
Realizing the apparent predicament, the others in the room attempt to talk again as well...with the same lack of success. None of them have a voice.
"You can't talk?" Omi asks curiously, instantly taken aback by the fact that he still can. "Hey, how come my voice isn't gone?"
Grinning in come-hither fashion, Amaya walks over to him, hugging his arm as she slips hers around it. "Cause I don't want it to be." she answers simply. "Besides, you were the only one not being a dork about all this."
Indignantly, Youji and Ken glare at her, desperately wishing for the ability to speak what is on their minds at the moment. Nori and Hiromi, on the other hand, wear expressions that show they have most likely been through a situation like this before.
"Errm...arigato...I think..." Omi states, smiling sheepishly as a rush of color reddens his round face.
"My pleasure, Kitten." she beams. Then, turning to Aiko, who has been watching the events with a half-smile of mild amusement, she continues. "Now, let's get down to business. Aiko, if you're through moping over how you didn't know Schwartz would show up tonight, could you please explain what's going on to these twerps already?"
Expectant faces turn towards the eerily quiet red head, some overcome with growing fright, while others merely appear annoyed.
Lifting her delicate chin to the crowd, gentle laughter escapes rose lips, brightening the young woman's ghostly features, and proving she, too, has a usable voice. "Gomen, Sokoke...Amaya...I'm alright." Aiko begins, pushing herself from the wall with a faded smile. "You know how I hate unwelcome surprises. However, an explanation is long overdue. We have already been introduced, so I suppose I should start with our...idiosyncrasies. To answer the question I'm sure you are all thinking right now, it is no common phenomenon that Amaya stole your voices. She has a unique ability, you see, allowing her extraordinary control over sound. So, technically, this little kitty hasn't got your tongues. Rather, she disrupted the sound waves around you."
"But if she did that, they wouldn't be able to hear anything either, right?" Omi comments, inconspicuously attempting to slip his arm from Amaya's firm grip on his own.
Turning to him with a profound volume of understanding, Aiko answers. "You'd think so, but she is adept enough to only cut off the sound waves in front of their mouths."
"You have no idea how long it took me to perfect this trick" Amaya adds in a merry tone. "And I'm mighty scary when I get frustrated with something."
Omi giggles lightly, and has to admit, though she is somewhat abrasive, there is something so comforting about Amaya's genuine presence, as it is with nearly all of these odd women.
(They're like some strange cross between us and Schwartz, with weapons *and* powers.) Omi ponders inquisitively. (I wonder if the same is true for all of them...)
"Nori and I also have...abilities of sorts, but Hiromi is the exception among us." Aiko states, inadvertently answering Omi's unasked question. "Although, Hiromi *is* remarkably fast. Most likely, she is even swifter than our timely German friend. As for Nori, her power is especially unusual. As long as she makes some form of physical contact, she can extract the truth from anyone. Thoughts, feelings, repressed memories, anything which is locked within a person's mind. It sounds somewhat like telepathy, I know, but it is a bit more complicated than that. To conclude with myself." the red-head declares with a hint of apprehension. "I'm a natural pyro-"
"Maniac?" Omi cuts in unthinkingly, his bright, blue eyes widening in wonder.
"Kinetic." she corrects. "Pyrokinetic. I can create fire - manipulate it. I also have some theories on using my ability to heal somehow - minor wounds at least - but I haven't put them to the test."
(Wow...this is alot to take in...) Ken ponders, having thankfully cooled down during Aiko's explanation. (Just this morning they were nothing but a group of odd, coffee shop girls, and now they have weapons and freaky powers? What does this all mean...)
(...and what will it lead to?) Ran wonders critically, absorbing all he has heard with a logical grain of salt. (We know who they are and a small amount of what they are capable of, but what is their purpose...? Why...)
(...are they here, anyway?) Youji questions, smirking slightly. He can't help enjoying the idea of a female group so similar to their own. One that, hopefully, won't try to kill them the way the last one did. (I could let my imagination run away on me, but I highly doubt they came to seduce us and confiscate our flower shop while secretly stealing Schwartz' plans to take over the world. Although...I certainly wouldn't mind the first part. Hmmm...I wonder if they...)
(...*are* a threat.) Omi speculates, his mind wandering right along with the minds of his teammates. (I know they got the jump on us before, but I don't think they've gone to all this trouble and explained so much about themselves just to turn around and kill us. So...)
"Why are you here?" Omi asks gently, hardly demanding. "You've told us all this, but not why? Does it have something to do with Schwartz?"
Silent pleas of curiosity ring from expectant faces; the million yen question waiting to be answered.
"Somewhat." Aiko speaks softly, her violet eyes drifting into thought. "In truth, our whole purpose began with them. However, thanks to a certain man, *you* are also an important factor in our mission. You know the man I'm talking about. Well...you knew him, anyway. He once promised me he would tell me his real name if I proved him wrong about something, but he died before I got the chance. I called him what everyone called him..." she pauses, standing right in front of Ran now with serious, saddened eyes. "...Botan..."
The blood rushes from Ran's already paled face, a gripping wave of nausea crashing down on him. "Botan..." Ran repeats in a whisper, not realizing the miracle of his returned vocal cords as his firmly folded arms fall gradually to his side. "You knew him...? Then...then you are members of Kritiker -"
"No." Aiko interrupts with finality. Her smile has dissipated, leaving behind only a pair of longing, desperately pained pupils which gaze mercilessly into her false, mirror image. "We are not members of Kritiker, but we do have some connection. There is so much you must know, Abyssinian, but I'm afraid it cannot all be explained in a night. You deserve a little time. At least, a good night's sleep before we talk any more. So, for now, just know this..." Turning grandly, Aiko faces the whole of the room, addressing everyone. "...we are not your enemy. You may find it difficult to accept what we have planned for you, but our purpose is more crucial than you know. We are going to save you, White Hunters. We must...before it is too late..."
By now, Amaya has released Omi's delicate arm of her own accord, her jovial mood slipping away with the seriousness of Aiko's words. The air is heavy and heated with burning ice leaving stains of breath on the windows.
Riddles. Fate works in riddles and whispers. After all, God is watching our lives in a manner we cannot comprehend, witnessing every moment all at once and constantly. Life is a puzzling thing to us, because to Him, it is all so very simple.
"Give the rest of them their voices back, Sokoke. It is time to say goodnight."
Without another word, Aiko heads for the stairs, a rampant Nori and flustered Hiromi trailing behind her, as Amaya merely tosses her eyes over the room before joining them.
"Hold on!" Ken calls out, with his thankfully restored voice, rushing to the railing as the strange, young women begin to climb the stairs. "You can't just leave after all that!"
"What are we supposed to think about this?" Youji adds, walking up behind his forceful friend. "You're a bunch of mystical guardian angels sent to save our souls or something, but you're not going to give us any straight answers?"
With a satisfied grin, Hiromi leans over the railing, poised halfway up the staircase. "That about sums it up, *sweetheart*."
Youji scowls, stumped for a clever reply.
"But..." Omi begins, taking faltering steps in the others' direction. "...when are we going to see you again? When are you going to explain the rest of it...what's behind all this?"
The women are silent, looking to their leader for the answers. Aiko's thoughts are planted across the room, however, focused in on a blank-faced Fujimiya. "We're right across the street." she states gently, keeping her eyes trained on Ran. "As for answers, perhaps tomorrow, but I think you have more pressing questions to address right now. Like why your dear Persia gave you a false mission tonight, though his little messenger didn't bother to warn you it was a fake."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ken asks cautiously, with narrowed, turquoise eyes.
"It means what it means." Aiko replies, without hesitation. "Why do you think we allowed those men to escape? We let them go tonight because they were not what you thought. It is true they stole an ancient text from the Tosho Museum - the one Schwartz unfortunately now possesses - but they did *not* kill anyone. Not a one of those men have ever hurt a fly. They are just your average thieves for hire who got caught up in something way over their heads."
This last minute information is outrageous, stinging the members of Weiss with disbelief.
"How do you know so much...?" Omi inquires, not daring to believe what she has said is the truth. "How can you be sure -"
"Oyasumi, Bombay...all of you." Aiko cuts him off, ignoring the pressing questions asked of her. "Your words are not for me, but for those who wish to keep you in the dark. Though I am sure they will be available to answer those questions quite soon indeed. Till next time...Weiss."
Once again, the four women begin to climb the stairs, but Aiko only barely reaches the top before they are called to once again.
"Korat, was it?" Ran's deep, cryptic voice inquires, stopping them. "I'll accept 'till next time' for now. But...until then...I will be watching you."
"And I, Abyssinian..." Aiko answers swiftly, swinging open the door as she calls down the stairs. "...will be watching you."
*****
(What would you do if you knew I was watching you...Ran-niisan...?)
The complex air of "Kitty in the House's" poorly lit basement has melted the ice with burning questions, and cooled the fire with small traces of refreshing understanding. Queries answered have only created more to agonize over, and the dragging ache at heart is more than anyone standing stunned on the cold, hard floor can bear. Especially in the case of the lone girl who is feeling that chill even more bitterly than the rest. It seeps into her legs while she crouches behind a padded chair only feet from a small desk and computer on the far end of the room.
Fujimiya Aya has been eaves-dropping tonight, as well as disobeying her commanding brother once again. (What would you say if you knew I was down here?) she wonders, watching her brother and his friends as they trail up the steps and out of the room. (If you knew I had been down here a million times before, even though you had locked it while you were away, would you still fool yourself into believing I don't know everything about who and what you are?) Aching legs creak as the persistent girl stands, sighing heavily. (Those women...I think they want what I want...to have you back, the way you once were. Oh, God, please...please tell me they can do what I can't do alone. Give...give me my oniichan back...please...)
Gentle hands form into desperate fists, whitening from the pressure. Something has been set in motion tonight. Something unstoppable. And though difficult to grasp at first, it is something so colorlessly beautiful.
*****A/N***** Whoa, lot of explaining in this one, but hopefully you understand a little more about what is going on, and more will be known as the story progresses. Please keep reading and reviewing. I really think I capture who these boys are, and if you aren't too keen on original characters, just pick the one that reminds you the most of yourself and imagine it is you. That's what I always do. :-)
Dreams are fragile.
Every fantasy played out in dear Dreamland is a vase of flowers teetering on the edge of insanity. Much in the world calms the spirit, but madness is far more interesting, blossoming from the many vacant thoughts in our heads.
The world is even more frail. How long before the glass shatters, ending billions of lives by a jaded breeze? How many voices must cry out for retribution and redemption before our dying communities know mercy?
Life seems pretty pointless in a perspective such as this: All the world is out to get you, no one is on your side or coming to your rescue, hope is a forgotten symbol of the past, and death is a way of life.
Wrong.
Yes, oh yes, that constant wind beats upon the shuttered windows of cracking glass, but only in a vain attempt at getting in. Acceptance is all it searches for, not destruction as so many believe. If only the blind populous had eyes to see what they again and again are turning away. If only a few, small men grew tall - even if only for a breath - it would be enough.
That is a small hope: 'if only...' But it is a hope - a destination - worth striving for.
*****
Shadows dance upon the wall, falling in hues of greys and blues as they twirl about in the spaciously small room. There is a door and a window, but nothing else occupies this trifling space. Nothing except the seven haunting eyes peering out of the glass upon the pavement below.
Biting cold rips through the cracks in the weathered walls, blowing in with the relentless wind. A heated breath produces silver mist from any who would dare to breathe, but the men keeping close watch on those in the parking lot quite a few stories down produce nothing.
Nothing.
"Looks like our hired help won't be getting their payment." a nasal, humored voice states, its owner's jade eyes following the path of an easily disregarded car as it squeals off into the night.
"Hmph." Brad Crawford admonishes, eyeing the red-head at his side. "Pay attention to the real importance of tonight, would you? We have to know what we may be facing in days to come."
Lined up as bell-tower guardians, Schwartz continues to observe the commotion below: Weiss meeting up with the greatest threat any shade of justice has yet to encounter.
Nagi stands on Brad's left, his face pressed nearest to the glass, while Farfarello is on the opposite end beside Schuldrich. There is a heavy sense of expectancy in the crisp air; it has been a long time since any of them have had a taste of personified hatred, and the craving is inescapable.
Nevertheless, one member never truly had an appetite for such things. (What threat could these women be to us...?) Nagi wonders. (They allowed those men to leave unharmed, and even with perfect opportunity to kill Weiss, they seem to be waiting for something. But what...? What else is it about them? What isn't Crawford telling us...?)
(You think too much, kid.) an unwanted guest speaks into the boy's mind. (Don't question the means. It's a waste of breath, and you don't have any to spare.)
Nagi grimaces, leaning back from the window to glare at Schuldrich as he replies, speaking so only the two of them can hear. (Can't I think *anything* without you listening in?) His mind's voice asks brutally. (You always defend Crawford. Are you his watch dog, making sure I don't betray him by thinking for myself?)
The young boy's mind is filled with coarse laughter at this, and Schuldrich's shining eyes prove it is difficult for him to keep his amusement from being voiced aloud. (That girl's made you soft.) he taunts. (And here I thought you were about as tender and smooth-skinned as they come long before she tickled your boyhood itch.)
Gathering all his mental strength into blocking the red-head's cynical speech from his mind, Nagi turns back to the window. He cannot bear another moment of the same conversation. He is Schwartz, and Schwartz is his life. Period.
Still, as he watches the events below him, his tortured mind unwillingly wonders...
(What will come of this...?)
*****
What will be an end to this? What will be a beginning?
Icicles creep up the spine, for the wind refuses to settle. The sharp breeze blows on, unmerciful, freezing every particle of air and leaving none fit to breathe. It is as if all question of reality has been cut off before the buzzer, and two conflicting teams are taking the first step towards revolution.
"Dispel whatever assumptions you have, Abyssinian. We are not what you think."
The voice is smooth and low-toned, hypnotizing. Aiko holds her katana nonchalantly at her side, only feet from Ran as he stays poised dangerously with his still drawn. The scene unfolds like an old movie real, with the backdrop - the other paired off opposites - remaining motionless, lifeless, and questioning for their next move.
"You interfered with our mission and ambushed us into an attack." Ran replies through clenched teeth. "I don't care *what* you are, or what you think you know about us! You have no right to -"
"Don't you ever just shut up and listen?!" A high-pitched and annoyed voice interrupts, sounding from the short, young sprite nearly hidden behind Omi as she continues to hold him in place. "Aiko's trying to talk to you guys, ya big meanie!"
Humored pause. "Sokoke..." the calm red-head speaks in a warning tone, addressing the miffed brunette. "The air is too unsettled. Let's play it their way...if that's how it must be."
In answer, the girl grunts disappointedly, hating to be corrected.
(I thought her name was Amaya...?) Omi ponders, forgetting for a moment to fear whatever sharp object she has pressed into his backbone. (Sokoke...? Isn't that a -)
Sudden movement in front of him breaks the stillness, ripping Omi's thoughts away. Aiko and Ran are no longer stationary. Now, they are once again locked in steel pressure, after the supposedly peaceful, red-haired young woman jerked into action.
Cling! Sharp sounds of metal on metal pierce the air, stilling the breeze.
"Is this all you understand...Abyssinian?" Aiko whispers, pale faces so uncomfortably close. "I had hoped we could talk this through, but I knew it would take a bit more incentive for you to calmly listen to what I have to say."
Ran's eyes penetrate with fury in reply. (I knew there was something about them...they know who we are...)
"We confronted you here tonight for a reason." Aiko continues, straining her weapon against Ran's as they sink to the ground from matched strength. "We let those men go for a reason, as well. We only chose this way of confronting you because violence is your way of life, but that does not mean we are a threat to you. Are you willing to listen to what we have to say without shedding blood tonight, or must this become more difficult before you'll see reason?"
"Who *are* you?!" Ran bellows.
With a last burst of force, Aiko thrusts him away from her, sending him tumbling to the ground. A smile plays on her lips as she watches the young man's sword slip from his hand, leaving him vulnerable. She crouches down next to his fallen, surprised form then, her voice still perfectly collected as she speaks.
"You keep asking the same question, even after I've given you answers. I think I know what you are waiting to hear." She bends her head close to his, and Ran's body stiffens with uncertainty as she whispers. "I am Korat...as you are Abyssinian. I too have a mission, and the same man you once believed in is the one who sent me to complete it."
*****
The restless night hovers suspended and incomplete. Whatever Schwartz expected to see has most definately fallen short.
Miraculously, the wind appears to have been pacified, no longer whipping harsh comments at the walls. Of the four men remaining before the window, few, oh so many few, truly understand what it is they are watching begin.
(Words...why do they choose words over action...?) the dark, scrambled mind of a lost lamb wonders, his golden eye trained on the sight through the glass. (Idle hands do so much more damage than idle words...)
Stretching out his mind into the sacred spaces of his team mates - as he so often does - Schuldrich catches the peculiar thoughts from Farfarello, grinning with the taste of it. He could always count on Farfie to add a dose of philosophy to every craving for bloodshed.
(That's my Farf...) the German smirks to himself. (...a hell of a lot more frightening when he's calm, and constantly questioning why anyone would do anything unless it's to injure the invulnerable hand of God. Hehe...) he turns slightly, looking his other team mates over with deep penitration. (Then there's Naoe...)
(What does this have to do with us...? Why doesn't Crawford tell us everything that's going on...?)
(...still doubting with questions he shouldn't ask.) Schu grins, mental laughter purring throught the stillness of unheard voices. (And of course...my dear Bradley...)
(......)
(...blocking me out, as always.)
Devilishly, Schuldrich traces the American's face with his eyes, devouring any hint of what the man may be thinking. Brad Crawford is always a mystery, which is what makes him so appealing and attracting to the smirking red-head. He loves being held in suspense, a pleasure he all too often is robbed of.
Noticing Schu's gaze, Brad flicks his eyes to the side, frowning at this obvious invasion. But, just then, an idea strikes him, and causes him to smile despite himself. "You've just volunteered yourself, Schuldrich." he states with smug authority.
"Volunteered?"
Brad's smirk grows. "Volunteered." he restates. "You're going to go down there and retrieve our package."
*****
The one thing forgotten about down there, was the unretrieved package.
Dirt-layered, brown paper fades into the outlines of the concrete, playing tricks on the mind. Not that it really would have mattered; more important conflicts are in progress, causing those involved to completely forget the once important object ever existed.
(They flew in out of no where - with weapons - just to talk?!) Hidaka Ken's frantic thoughts whirl in uncontrollable patterns, stiff and on-guard as he remains on his back upon the cold pavement.
Kei Nori, dusk-colored tendrils of hair calmed on her shoulders with the ceasing wind, still hovers above him, her staff poised inches from the young assassin's chest.
"Ready to listen then?" Aiko asks lightly, standing up from her low position beside the fallen, red-haired leader. "I know you think we are rather suspicious, especially considering how we have chosen to introduce ourselves tonight, but it couldn't be helped." Fluid motion stretches out a naked, white hand in assistance to Ran, just as that same hand had been offered to him earlier in the day. "Well...Abyssinian?"
Where has the chilled, fiercely driving wind escaped to? Suddenly the air is almost too sweltering to breathe. Nonetheless, with hesitant defeat Ran accepts those gentle fingers with his leather-clad hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.
"Talk then." his deep, embittered tone demands, violet eyes remaining narrowed on the wisteria irises of the woman standing before him.
"Back down, girls." Aiko states instantly at this acceptance, her authority laced with motherly undertone as she addresses her teammates with a smile.
On cue, weapons and intimidation fall away.
The curvaceous blonde releases Youji swiftly, slipping her dagger back into its place at her hip as she steps up next to him, while he takes this opportunity to eye her curiously, instinctively breathing a sigh of relief that he is no longer under the threat of her weapon.
Amaya, the petite brunette behind Omi, does much the same, and as she comes parallel with her young counterpart, he finally notices what weapon she had been holding him stable with. A leather gauntlet-like covering forms over the girl's arm from her wrist to her elbow, and fixed on top is a miniature, detachable cross-bow. Inquisitively, Omi finds instant fascination with it, but his brilliant, cobalt eyes drift to the lock of silver from her temple with even more curiousity. He hadn't taken as much notice to it before, but in the light of the silver moon, it shines with etherial wonder.
Between those two pairs, Ken begins to pick himself up from the ground after Nori reluctantly steps back, offering him no hint of aid. The simple, wooden weapon of choice she holds so maliciously is oddly plain, making him wonder if there is more to it than she is allowing them to see.
"To begin..." Aiko starts, tilting her head in a shimmer of crimson waves. "...what we shall tell you is the truth, because we have no reason to lie." Slowly and with purpose, she circles around Ran, tossing her gaze out to the other assassins. "We share quite a few similarities, you know...Abyssinian, Siberian, Bombay, and Balinese? Why don't I introduce us to you properly? As I've said, I am Korat, though you met me before as Rosuto Aiko. *This* little elf..." she continues playfully, gesturing to the emerald-eyed girl beside Omi. "...is Sokoke. Or, as I'm sure she introduced herself earlier, Yawarakai Amaya. Next, the sour-looking one near Siberian there, is Somali. Kei Nori, otherwise, though it will take quite a bit to warm up to her if you want the privilege of calling her that."
Ken, in reflex, lets out a confirming huff at this, eyeing the girl who is so gladly a few feet away from him, though no amount of space between them could be enough for either one.
(Even if someone actually wanted to melt that ice-princess...) the hot-headed brunette thinks harshly. (...there'd be nothing worth knowing underneath.)
Similar as well as not so similar thoughts echo randomly from each person standing awkwardly on the pavement of the empty parking lot, streaming easily, too easily perhaps, into the clutches of the eager night wind.
With movement exceedingly quick for even the sharpest eyes, a figure has slipped behind a nearby tree, and is peering out at the mismatched group, happily absorbing every wanton word of mind thrown his way.
(Delicious...) purrs the thoughts of this newcommer, with lips curling back slightly from sensation, as the German tosses a stray strand of sunset hair from his green eyes. (I'll have to volunteer more often.) Blurred feet transition to another tree, his hungry mind reaching out. (Oh, how I'd love to play a bit...but Bradley'll be in a hell of a pissy mood tonight if I loose that book.)
Now that he has positioned himself accordingly, the forgotten package is even closer to his ready hands than to any of the others listening in on Aiko's words.
"And finally..." the red-head finishes, smiling towards her well-endowed, yet somewhat shorter, friend. "...the lovely creature beside Balinese there, is fittingly known as Burmese. Chin Hiromi, otherwise, and believe me she is -"
"Quite a nice piece of ass, wouldn't you say?"
Dangerous pause.
Schuldrich arrogantly steps out from behind his hiding place on this brave comment, completely at ease as he makes his presence known, while the others all tense in alert, reaching for their weapons.
"I'd take that back, if I were you!" Hiromi bellows angrily, her dagger held threateningly in nimble fingers. She takes a step towards Schu then, but doesn't get very far before a firm grip on her shoulder holds her back.
"Careful, gorgeous. He's more trouble than he's worth."
Gold-flecked, emerald eyes narrow past a misplaced pair of shades as Youji gently and sternly holds the blonde in place. Though it has been nearly a year since Weiss' last battle with Schwartz, he recognizes the German red-head all too well.
"It's Schuldrich!" Omi states in a frantic whisper, whipping out his darts protectively.
All of them are stiff, eyeing the grinning antagonist with great apprehension. Aiko especially seems caught off guard by this unexpected appearance, her usually passive features filled with faltering panic.
Ran's suspicions, however, instantly stray. There is something far too coincidental about all this. "Fools! They were planning this all along!" he cries, his arm aching to reach for the katana at his feet. "They're in league with Schwartz!"
Aiko's ever-present smile fades even more, but any retort she might offer to dispel this belief is cut off by glorious laughter sounding from the odd-man-out beside the tree.
"The truth behind these vixens is alot more interesting than that, Fujimiya." Schuldrich grins. "But, as much as I'd love to discuss it with you, I really must be on my way." He reaches down to the ground then with a long, slender arm, snatching up the forgotten package from the pavement. "And by the way..." he adds, smirking devilishly at the female red-head who is still at a loss for words. "...thanks for getting rid of the middle men. I'm always grateful for a little extra cash."
Just then, a screech of tires and flash of bright lights bursts from around the corner of the Kokaido building, and a black car is suddenly speeding towards them. Tinted windows prevent the group from seeing who is in the vehicle, but as the driver's window rolls down, all recognize the figure behind the wheel.
"Get in." Brad Crawford commands, pulling up behind Schuldrich. Obediently, the grinning German rushes to the passenger side with a flurry, the package tucked safely in his arms.
All are speechless. The events of the night are passing in a blur.
Brad passes his bronzed eyes over the oddly-matched crew, pushing his glasses back on to the bridge of his nose - having slipped slightly, as they often do - with a steady hand. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." the American states with a twisted smile, looking Aiko over with intrigue. Then, moving his gaze to the hardened-features of Fujimiya Ran, Brad's smile twists even further. "As for you...we'll meet again...Weiss."
With a roar of the engine, sounding more like the howl of a hell-beast than the purr of a kitten, the car drives off within a cloud of upturned dirt, leaving Brad's final thoughts to linger and fall back hauntingly to the ground.
(She's the one...I'm certain of it.)
*****
The night had barely begun...and they were well aware.
Shining high in the midnight sky, the moon glitters with silver light, casting eerie shadows into every corner and onto every looming wall. The darkness whispers with the last traces of wind, calling, longing, caressing the window panes of "Kitty in the House" as it strains to reach the heated air within. Of course, the air is heated for a reason.
"Are you out of your mind inviting them here?! They ambushed us!!"
Row after row of residents down the street are pleasantly sleeping the hours away, but in the cramped basement of the neighborhood's favorite flower shop, every particle of life is wide awake.
"We're *in* the room, ya know?! You don't have to be such a jerk about this!"
Hidaka Ken and the memorable, little brunette with large, green eyes are nose to nose. Well...her upturned nose to his extremely tensed neck, to be more accurate.
"Calm down, sweetheart." Youji intervenes sternly, grabbing the girl's elbow as he pulls her away from Ken. "We're the ones who allowed you down here, so I suggest you be more respectful."
Amaya, glaring up into the pair of emerald eyes so similar to her own, wrenches her arm away from him, just as another raised temper comes to her rescue.
"Don't you touch her!!" Nori warns, stepping swiftly from where she had been scowling against the wall, her navy curls bouncing against her shoulders as she stalks closer to the group. "It's just like someone of your capacity to be reprimanding her for something your own team mate did first!"
"Sure, attack *me*, you ice witch!!" Ken roars, clenching his fist and inadvertently releasing the claws he has yet to take off. "What the hell were you doing out there tonight, anyway!? Some act of self-righteous bullshit is my bet!!
"That's enough!" a frighteningly deep voice shouts above the rest. "We want answers, not arguments!"
Ran - being the last to climb down the stairs into Weiss' basement headquarters - is standing just at the foot of the steps with sulfuric acid burning in his violet eyes. Though Omi had been the one to suggest they gather here to talk things out, Ran had surprisingly not objected, even thought it did violate many of their codes of security. Taking this into account, however, he is not about to lose an opportunity at uncovering the truth behind these women, especially not over some petty bickering.
"Now, I want you to tell us everything." the red-head continues, looking to each member of the mysterious group, Fluesternd, though his eyes linger most on their apparent leader, who is leaning against the wall just to his left. "What gives you the right to not only let our targets escape, but to leave us open and vulnerable for attack from our most dangerous enemy? Tell me that. Or don't you have an answer?"
Since leaving the Kokaido Factory behind, neither Aiko nor Nori - save the blue-haired young woman's recent outburst - had said a word. It was awkward how the common smile upon the pale-faced leader vanishing made everything feel wrong somehow. Even now, her face is blank, as if deep in thought.
"That's it! I've had enough of these ego-trips!"
The erupted voice, fitting right in with the mood of the night, has come from Hiromi on the other side of the room. Hands on her distinctly-shaped hips, she stalks forward.
"If you want answers, then act like it! What have we done to deserve being treated like this?!"
"What have you done?!" Youji retorts incredulously. "Well, toots, if I remember correctly, you gave us one fine good morning earlier today! Not to mention...oh...uhhh...threatening us with sharp objects!!"
"Well, from the looks of things, I'd say you deserved it!"
"Oh, yeah?!" Youji throws right back. "At least we know how to do our job, as long as a bunch of brainless beauty queens aren't messing things up!"
"Listen, you incompetent little miscreant!" Nori jumps in. "If you weren't so full of your own precious, little lives you would know what was going on by now!"
Seeing an opening, Ken can't possibly let that slide. "The less we know about you, the better, if you ask me!"
"Don't you dare talk to her like that!" Hiromi barks in Nori's defense.
"And what are you gonna do about it?!" Ken replies, just as severely.
"Rearrange that pretty-boy face of yours, that's what!"
"Umm...minna...maybe we should -" Omi tries, having stayed out of the impossible situation up till now...
"I'd like to see you try!"
...but not being too successful at finally trying to break things up.
"Bite me!" Hiromi snaps.
This gives Youji a very welcome idea for rebuttal. "Don't ask for it if you don't mean it, *sweetheart*!"
"Stop calling me that!!!"
The pressure continues to build and build until one might expect the walls would blow apart from the stress. Harsh voices and stinging words continue to grow, until finally, one of the many so consumed in heated rantings realizes she has had enough.
"SHUT UP!!!!!"
Silence. Not a muffling, stagger of voices until the air goes still, but a sudden and complete cut of sound. Frozen, angry expressions send piercing gazes at Amaya, who has so rudely broken up their invigorating fight.
Haughtily, the short brunette tosses her shimmering hair over her shoulder with a flicker of movement. "That's more like it." she smiles, rather pleased with herself.
Not even slightly amused by her cheerful countenance, Ran turns to her sourly, opening his mouth to speak. "..........." But nothing comes out. Not a peep. In fearful wonder, he tries again, but it is as if his voice isn't there at all anymore.
Realizing the apparent predicament, the others in the room attempt to talk again as well...with the same lack of success. None of them have a voice.
"You can't talk?" Omi asks curiously, instantly taken aback by the fact that he still can. "Hey, how come my voice isn't gone?"
Grinning in come-hither fashion, Amaya walks over to him, hugging his arm as she slips hers around it. "Cause I don't want it to be." she answers simply. "Besides, you were the only one not being a dork about all this."
Indignantly, Youji and Ken glare at her, desperately wishing for the ability to speak what is on their minds at the moment. Nori and Hiromi, on the other hand, wear expressions that show they have most likely been through a situation like this before.
"Errm...arigato...I think..." Omi states, smiling sheepishly as a rush of color reddens his round face.
"My pleasure, Kitten." she beams. Then, turning to Aiko, who has been watching the events with a half-smile of mild amusement, she continues. "Now, let's get down to business. Aiko, if you're through moping over how you didn't know Schwartz would show up tonight, could you please explain what's going on to these twerps already?"
Expectant faces turn towards the eerily quiet red head, some overcome with growing fright, while others merely appear annoyed.
Lifting her delicate chin to the crowd, gentle laughter escapes rose lips, brightening the young woman's ghostly features, and proving she, too, has a usable voice. "Gomen, Sokoke...Amaya...I'm alright." Aiko begins, pushing herself from the wall with a faded smile. "You know how I hate unwelcome surprises. However, an explanation is long overdue. We have already been introduced, so I suppose I should start with our...idiosyncrasies. To answer the question I'm sure you are all thinking right now, it is no common phenomenon that Amaya stole your voices. She has a unique ability, you see, allowing her extraordinary control over sound. So, technically, this little kitty hasn't got your tongues. Rather, she disrupted the sound waves around you."
"But if she did that, they wouldn't be able to hear anything either, right?" Omi comments, inconspicuously attempting to slip his arm from Amaya's firm grip on his own.
Turning to him with a profound volume of understanding, Aiko answers. "You'd think so, but she is adept enough to only cut off the sound waves in front of their mouths."
"You have no idea how long it took me to perfect this trick" Amaya adds in a merry tone. "And I'm mighty scary when I get frustrated with something."
Omi giggles lightly, and has to admit, though she is somewhat abrasive, there is something so comforting about Amaya's genuine presence, as it is with nearly all of these odd women.
(They're like some strange cross between us and Schwartz, with weapons *and* powers.) Omi ponders inquisitively. (I wonder if the same is true for all of them...)
"Nori and I also have...abilities of sorts, but Hiromi is the exception among us." Aiko states, inadvertently answering Omi's unasked question. "Although, Hiromi *is* remarkably fast. Most likely, she is even swifter than our timely German friend. As for Nori, her power is especially unusual. As long as she makes some form of physical contact, she can extract the truth from anyone. Thoughts, feelings, repressed memories, anything which is locked within a person's mind. It sounds somewhat like telepathy, I know, but it is a bit more complicated than that. To conclude with myself." the red-head declares with a hint of apprehension. "I'm a natural pyro-"
"Maniac?" Omi cuts in unthinkingly, his bright, blue eyes widening in wonder.
"Kinetic." she corrects. "Pyrokinetic. I can create fire - manipulate it. I also have some theories on using my ability to heal somehow - minor wounds at least - but I haven't put them to the test."
(Wow...this is alot to take in...) Ken ponders, having thankfully cooled down during Aiko's explanation. (Just this morning they were nothing but a group of odd, coffee shop girls, and now they have weapons and freaky powers? What does this all mean...)
(...and what will it lead to?) Ran wonders critically, absorbing all he has heard with a logical grain of salt. (We know who they are and a small amount of what they are capable of, but what is their purpose...? Why...)
(...are they here, anyway?) Youji questions, smirking slightly. He can't help enjoying the idea of a female group so similar to their own. One that, hopefully, won't try to kill them the way the last one did. (I could let my imagination run away on me, but I highly doubt they came to seduce us and confiscate our flower shop while secretly stealing Schwartz' plans to take over the world. Although...I certainly wouldn't mind the first part. Hmmm...I wonder if they...)
(...*are* a threat.) Omi speculates, his mind wandering right along with the minds of his teammates. (I know they got the jump on us before, but I don't think they've gone to all this trouble and explained so much about themselves just to turn around and kill us. So...)
"Why are you here?" Omi asks gently, hardly demanding. "You've told us all this, but not why? Does it have something to do with Schwartz?"
Silent pleas of curiosity ring from expectant faces; the million yen question waiting to be answered.
"Somewhat." Aiko speaks softly, her violet eyes drifting into thought. "In truth, our whole purpose began with them. However, thanks to a certain man, *you* are also an important factor in our mission. You know the man I'm talking about. Well...you knew him, anyway. He once promised me he would tell me his real name if I proved him wrong about something, but he died before I got the chance. I called him what everyone called him..." she pauses, standing right in front of Ran now with serious, saddened eyes. "...Botan..."
The blood rushes from Ran's already paled face, a gripping wave of nausea crashing down on him. "Botan..." Ran repeats in a whisper, not realizing the miracle of his returned vocal cords as his firmly folded arms fall gradually to his side. "You knew him...? Then...then you are members of Kritiker -"
"No." Aiko interrupts with finality. Her smile has dissipated, leaving behind only a pair of longing, desperately pained pupils which gaze mercilessly into her false, mirror image. "We are not members of Kritiker, but we do have some connection. There is so much you must know, Abyssinian, but I'm afraid it cannot all be explained in a night. You deserve a little time. At least, a good night's sleep before we talk any more. So, for now, just know this..." Turning grandly, Aiko faces the whole of the room, addressing everyone. "...we are not your enemy. You may find it difficult to accept what we have planned for you, but our purpose is more crucial than you know. We are going to save you, White Hunters. We must...before it is too late..."
By now, Amaya has released Omi's delicate arm of her own accord, her jovial mood slipping away with the seriousness of Aiko's words. The air is heavy and heated with burning ice leaving stains of breath on the windows.
Riddles. Fate works in riddles and whispers. After all, God is watching our lives in a manner we cannot comprehend, witnessing every moment all at once and constantly. Life is a puzzling thing to us, because to Him, it is all so very simple.
"Give the rest of them their voices back, Sokoke. It is time to say goodnight."
Without another word, Aiko heads for the stairs, a rampant Nori and flustered Hiromi trailing behind her, as Amaya merely tosses her eyes over the room before joining them.
"Hold on!" Ken calls out, with his thankfully restored voice, rushing to the railing as the strange, young women begin to climb the stairs. "You can't just leave after all that!"
"What are we supposed to think about this?" Youji adds, walking up behind his forceful friend. "You're a bunch of mystical guardian angels sent to save our souls or something, but you're not going to give us any straight answers?"
With a satisfied grin, Hiromi leans over the railing, poised halfway up the staircase. "That about sums it up, *sweetheart*."
Youji scowls, stumped for a clever reply.
"But..." Omi begins, taking faltering steps in the others' direction. "...when are we going to see you again? When are you going to explain the rest of it...what's behind all this?"
The women are silent, looking to their leader for the answers. Aiko's thoughts are planted across the room, however, focused in on a blank-faced Fujimiya. "We're right across the street." she states gently, keeping her eyes trained on Ran. "As for answers, perhaps tomorrow, but I think you have more pressing questions to address right now. Like why your dear Persia gave you a false mission tonight, though his little messenger didn't bother to warn you it was a fake."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ken asks cautiously, with narrowed, turquoise eyes.
"It means what it means." Aiko replies, without hesitation. "Why do you think we allowed those men to escape? We let them go tonight because they were not what you thought. It is true they stole an ancient text from the Tosho Museum - the one Schwartz unfortunately now possesses - but they did *not* kill anyone. Not a one of those men have ever hurt a fly. They are just your average thieves for hire who got caught up in something way over their heads."
This last minute information is outrageous, stinging the members of Weiss with disbelief.
"How do you know so much...?" Omi inquires, not daring to believe what she has said is the truth. "How can you be sure -"
"Oyasumi, Bombay...all of you." Aiko cuts him off, ignoring the pressing questions asked of her. "Your words are not for me, but for those who wish to keep you in the dark. Though I am sure they will be available to answer those questions quite soon indeed. Till next time...Weiss."
Once again, the four women begin to climb the stairs, but Aiko only barely reaches the top before they are called to once again.
"Korat, was it?" Ran's deep, cryptic voice inquires, stopping them. "I'll accept 'till next time' for now. But...until then...I will be watching you."
"And I, Abyssinian..." Aiko answers swiftly, swinging open the door as she calls down the stairs. "...will be watching you."
*****
(What would you do if you knew I was watching you...Ran-niisan...?)
The complex air of "Kitty in the House's" poorly lit basement has melted the ice with burning questions, and cooled the fire with small traces of refreshing understanding. Queries answered have only created more to agonize over, and the dragging ache at heart is more than anyone standing stunned on the cold, hard floor can bear. Especially in the case of the lone girl who is feeling that chill even more bitterly than the rest. It seeps into her legs while she crouches behind a padded chair only feet from a small desk and computer on the far end of the room.
Fujimiya Aya has been eaves-dropping tonight, as well as disobeying her commanding brother once again. (What would you say if you knew I was down here?) she wonders, watching her brother and his friends as they trail up the steps and out of the room. (If you knew I had been down here a million times before, even though you had locked it while you were away, would you still fool yourself into believing I don't know everything about who and what you are?) Aching legs creak as the persistent girl stands, sighing heavily. (Those women...I think they want what I want...to have you back, the way you once were. Oh, God, please...please tell me they can do what I can't do alone. Give...give me my oniichan back...please...)
Gentle hands form into desperate fists, whitening from the pressure. Something has been set in motion tonight. Something unstoppable. And though difficult to grasp at first, it is something so colorlessly beautiful.
*****A/N***** Whoa, lot of explaining in this one, but hopefully you understand a little more about what is going on, and more will be known as the story progresses. Please keep reading and reviewing. I really think I capture who these boys are, and if you aren't too keen on original characters, just pick the one that reminds you the most of yourself and imagine it is you. That's what I always do. :-)