I would like to take a small bit of space reply to you all.
Leah: Thank you for you words of support.
Talisa Ahn: It's spelt Schwarz and no I'm afraid that's not quite what's happened, but good guess.
Rei Eien: You are half right! but half wrong too. I'm not going to say more, but you'll figure it out. don't you just love the supense. ^.^
Corrupt Prodigy: I've hurry up and gotten this chapter up as quick as I could (Well, not really since it's been done since before I even posted the first chapter). I hope you enjoy it.
Mami-san: Well, somebody needs to bash the orange pancake. Who better than me? As much as I love the German beer-belly-boy, it is simply too tempting to insult him at every chance I get.
Thank you all for reading and I won't hold you back anylonger. Enjoy!
Chapter 2
He rubbed the sleep from his tired eyes. It was a new day, even if it was still dark outside. Pulling out of the covers, taking the time to enjoy the last soft touches of slumber, he made a good yawn and stretch. The drowsy young man got up and out of bed.
Fujimiya Ran was not a morning person, but he was disciplined. Like clockwork, he'd wake and go to the roof of his apartment building to practice his kendo. Even his personal bodyguard, a man with large muscle and little intelligence, couldn't pull himself out of bed as early as the musician did to train with him.
Shuuichi's bodyguard idea was actually quite useless. The guards had protected them from several mobs and a couple attacks. The personal bodyguards, however, had failed in protecting them. Poor Yohji was harassed and stalked by an obsessive fan. Ken was pulled over a railing into a mob of hormonal teenagers. While Omi was still in the hospital, his jaw was broken with a plastic dog that had hit him in the face. Needless to say, the four musclemen were not helping the problem. It really was becoming a more serious problem by the day. The attacks weren't malicious, but they were still getting more and more dangerous. Mobs simple got out of hand too easily.
Ran began practice at 6:30am on the dot. The rooftop of his apartment complex was covered with smooth gray pebbles and the air was cool. The predawn gray didn't bother him at all. It was calming to practice there during the early hours, when it was quiet. On the roof he was nothing special or unique, just another pebble.
This was his second favorite place in the world, second only because of the two ominous towers that faced him.
The apartment complex was owned entirely by the Takatori family, it was the fairly high with 24 levels. However, there were two builds taller than the complex. The Takatori family owned one and their rival, the Ota Cooperation, owned the other. Both were Japanese, but Ota had foreign market based connections and Takatori controlled most of Japan.
The redhead had never liked the towers to begin with, but now he was getting paranoid about them. After returning from Hong Kong, he'd taken some serious thought to his appearance. He did gather a lot of attention. It made him think that he may not be such a small indiscriminant pebble on the rooftop. It seriously scared him to think some fifty-year-old woman was spying on him from her office window. Somebody watching him sweat and train while sporting only black drawstring pants every morning. He lost his concentration whenever the thought surfaced. Loss of concentration meant he face planted into the rocks.
But none of that was going to stop the Japanese man from doing as he'd always done. A Fujimiya did not run, did not back down, and did not break tradition. He wouldn't change his routine just as he didn't change his hair color. He was a student of kendo, so he'd train daily. Red was his natural color, so it was staying red till it stopped growing. He was stubborn and knew it.
By the time he'd come to that conclusion, the sun was breaking out. Ran sighed and returned to his apartment. He showered and dressed while his bodyguard still slept. His bodyguard, Junbo, took his own sweet time to wake up and since the musician wasn't due at work till noon, the lout had decided to sleep in.
The trouble was that even without having work to do yet, the musician did still have an appetite. So, the young man left for breakfast without his guard. Not too smart for him, but not too dangerous at 7 o'clock in the morning. He'd dressed casual, black slacks and purple button down shirt. As a precaution, he brought an extra set of clothes in an over-the-shoulder backpack and wore a black fisherman style hat to hide some of his hair.
The redhead set off to find some breakfast. He headed toward the two towers. He reasoned that since many of the employees of the building would be starting their days about now, coffee shops would be opening business for the morning rush.
It was getting foggy down on the streets. Ran was glad he'd worn his leather coat. The apartment roof was higher than the fog line, and he'd not pay enough attention to the weather.
Remembering his thoughts from earlier, he paused in his walking. Looking up to see the two giants before him. It made him feel like falling backwards, falling forever into a deep void. Why was he so small?
"Morning Red." It was that nasally voice, again. Ran sighed; this was not a good way to start his day.
Looking towards the building next to him and there he found the man with his friend. It was the Hyatt Hotel and the two men were descending the steps toward him. They were both wearing the same outfits from before. Well, maybe not the one with glasses, suits all looked the same really and white is a common suit color. On the other hand he was sure the carrot top had dressed in the dark this morning, probably every morning. It was a repulsive to look at this early in the morning, but not nearly as hideous a sight as that smirk.
There could not be any sanity left in that man.
"Where are you off to so early in the morning, little Red Riding Hood?" asked the carrot. What business does he have in what Ran was doing. Never let the enemy gain the upper hand.
"Why to my grandmother's house with some cake and a little pot of butter, Mr. Wolf," he replied. Ran wasn't sure how that smirk could get any bigger and still fit on anyone's face, but it had. It was too early in the morning to be dealing with people like this. Hunger and gloom was all that kept him from pummel the tall foreign idiot.
"If you don't mind…" the white suit adjusted a pair of glasses properly on his nose and waited calming before him. The Japanese man look at him, slightly confused as to what was being asked of him. It was as if he were looking at one of the towers, he suddenly felt so small and insignificant against this giant. When did he get so small?
The man was standing so close that the scent of his cologne caught the musician senses. His raven locks of hair had flecks of blue in them. It was silly, but Ran found him to be a handsome man. Then again anyone would seem handsome next to that vile image of the orange idiot.
"The car, Red. We would like to get into the limousine before it runs out of gas," the carrot top explained.
Looking behind at the vehicle, he stepped aside feeling very foolish. However, the smirk was gone and now the ugly foreigner was glaring at him.
The wolf didn't look like the kind of guy who minded being late for work, so why was he glaring now. It wasn't like he'd told the man flat out that he looked like a seedy pervert or an insane stalker, but that was how he viewed the man. Maybe the two foreigners were a couple and so the possessive little twit was jealous.
It was really too early to be thinking this much.
There was a pull on Ran's sleeve. He turned to find three girls dressed in high school uniforms standing in front of the Hyatt. They all looked rather anxiously at him, but he couldn't find of any reason why.
"Um… Excuse us, I'm Tomoe Sakura. I was wondering, are you? Are you Fujimiya Ran?" Oh, that... A logical reason for three teenagers to stand ogling him in the middle of the street at 7:30 in the morning would have to be that they've spotted their idol. He'd forgotten what he was for a moment.
"Yes, can I help you?" He sighed. It was better than the orange phantom; at least these girls liked him. What harm could a few autographs do?
Well, it would have been very little harm done if they hadn't started screaming, which drew a lot of attention. Celebrities and attention were a bad combination. It was getting very crowded very quickly. How was he going to get away?
He felt someone grab him from behind. His world spun for several everlasting moments as he was pulled. He was falling back. There was screaming and shouting, but he couldn't open his eyes. He was moving, the noise was getting less, where was he.
"You're safe, Red. So you can open your eyes now." Ran blinked couple of times to straight his vision.
They'd saved him? They had saved him from the mob. Well, he was out of the frying pan, but the fire was a hot orange color.
He was sitting in the limousine across from the white raven and the orange wolf. He'd certainly not expected them to save him. Why did they help him? Since when do wealthy businessmen drive up and save some poor pathetic strange on the street? Aren't they supposed to run over poor helpless people with their limousine? And why the hell is that man smirking again?
The orange man began snickering. The other man adjusted his glasses again. As handsome as he seemed outside, is exactly how frightening he was inside. The way his spectacles reflected the light as they'd moved, the way his fine white cotton suit contrasted with the black leather interior, how effortlessly professional he, all of those things made the simple musician shiver.
"Where should we drop you off?" the raven asked. His voice was very commanding. It even made the wolf quiet down, probably the only thing in the universe that could silence him. He was still smirking though.
"We're going to a breakfast, want to come Red?" Wolf grinned, which was a nice vacation from his smirk but not any more pleasant to look at. The raven raised a brow to that offer.
"Thank you. Thank you very much for your help, but I should be getting back the my work." Work is good. Eating breakfast with the Lucifer and his orange minion is bad, very bad.
"You didn't look in too much of a hurry earlier." So, the man has more than a smirk. Damn. Ran was not dining with the bogeyman and the smirking madman because he'd become an extremely dead man.
As annoying and depressing as his little world could get, he did enjoy the idea of being alive.
"I couldn't." There would have been extended protests, there would have been stronger rationales, there would have, there really would have. But when the bogeyman raises his hand, the argument ends and his decision is final. Hopefully, the man was still feeling kindly the strangers.
"By the way, Red," he returned back to the classic smirk, "Call me Schuldig. This is Crawford."
The musician opened his mouth to inform him of his own name, but Crawford spoke. No arguments and no interruptions, otherwise the bogeyman will eat you.
"We're breakfasting at the Ota Cooperation Tower." Guess the man was no longer in a generous mood.
"They have the best breakfasts," said the eager wolf to the sweet little lamb.
"It is, however, slightly more formal than slacks so perhaps you'd prefer to stop and change." He wasn't being asked if he'd agree to go, but where to stop to pick up his clothes. Stopping and running away sounded very appealing at the moment. However they'd probably run him over with the limousine in that case. Why in the hell did they want him at some business meeting anyway? And who dressed formally to a breakfast?
Ran hated meetings. He hated today. He hated foreigners. He hated the towers. He hated stupid fans. He hated being in this limousine. But most of all he really hated the way that man kept smirking!
Maybe Schuldig had plastic surgery to make it stick on his face like that.
"I live at in a apartment north of here, The Koneko Sumu-le," he replied. He was caught between fear and elation, since he'd just given his address to two men who could very well slice him to pieces while he slept peacefully and the idea of having his bodyguard by his side soon. The oaf's inability was hardly common knowledge.
"You're something famous though. I bet if we walked into any department store, they're give you everything for free," with that said he picked up the car phone, spoke some strange words and the car stopped in front of the Armani shop.
Ran sighed, what was wrong with his lifestyle that made him deserve this kind of treatment?
It had to be the hair.
Thank you again for reading and all your lovely reviews!
Leah: Thank you for you words of support.
Talisa Ahn: It's spelt Schwarz and no I'm afraid that's not quite what's happened, but good guess.
Rei Eien: You are half right! but half wrong too. I'm not going to say more, but you'll figure it out. don't you just love the supense. ^.^
Corrupt Prodigy: I've hurry up and gotten this chapter up as quick as I could (Well, not really since it's been done since before I even posted the first chapter). I hope you enjoy it.
Mami-san: Well, somebody needs to bash the orange pancake. Who better than me? As much as I love the German beer-belly-boy, it is simply too tempting to insult him at every chance I get.
Thank you all for reading and I won't hold you back anylonger. Enjoy!
Chapter 2
He rubbed the sleep from his tired eyes. It was a new day, even if it was still dark outside. Pulling out of the covers, taking the time to enjoy the last soft touches of slumber, he made a good yawn and stretch. The drowsy young man got up and out of bed.
Fujimiya Ran was not a morning person, but he was disciplined. Like clockwork, he'd wake and go to the roof of his apartment building to practice his kendo. Even his personal bodyguard, a man with large muscle and little intelligence, couldn't pull himself out of bed as early as the musician did to train with him.
Shuuichi's bodyguard idea was actually quite useless. The guards had protected them from several mobs and a couple attacks. The personal bodyguards, however, had failed in protecting them. Poor Yohji was harassed and stalked by an obsessive fan. Ken was pulled over a railing into a mob of hormonal teenagers. While Omi was still in the hospital, his jaw was broken with a plastic dog that had hit him in the face. Needless to say, the four musclemen were not helping the problem. It really was becoming a more serious problem by the day. The attacks weren't malicious, but they were still getting more and more dangerous. Mobs simple got out of hand too easily.
Ran began practice at 6:30am on the dot. The rooftop of his apartment complex was covered with smooth gray pebbles and the air was cool. The predawn gray didn't bother him at all. It was calming to practice there during the early hours, when it was quiet. On the roof he was nothing special or unique, just another pebble.
This was his second favorite place in the world, second only because of the two ominous towers that faced him.
The apartment complex was owned entirely by the Takatori family, it was the fairly high with 24 levels. However, there were two builds taller than the complex. The Takatori family owned one and their rival, the Ota Cooperation, owned the other. Both were Japanese, but Ota had foreign market based connections and Takatori controlled most of Japan.
The redhead had never liked the towers to begin with, but now he was getting paranoid about them. After returning from Hong Kong, he'd taken some serious thought to his appearance. He did gather a lot of attention. It made him think that he may not be such a small indiscriminant pebble on the rooftop. It seriously scared him to think some fifty-year-old woman was spying on him from her office window. Somebody watching him sweat and train while sporting only black drawstring pants every morning. He lost his concentration whenever the thought surfaced. Loss of concentration meant he face planted into the rocks.
But none of that was going to stop the Japanese man from doing as he'd always done. A Fujimiya did not run, did not back down, and did not break tradition. He wouldn't change his routine just as he didn't change his hair color. He was a student of kendo, so he'd train daily. Red was his natural color, so it was staying red till it stopped growing. He was stubborn and knew it.
By the time he'd come to that conclusion, the sun was breaking out. Ran sighed and returned to his apartment. He showered and dressed while his bodyguard still slept. His bodyguard, Junbo, took his own sweet time to wake up and since the musician wasn't due at work till noon, the lout had decided to sleep in.
The trouble was that even without having work to do yet, the musician did still have an appetite. So, the young man left for breakfast without his guard. Not too smart for him, but not too dangerous at 7 o'clock in the morning. He'd dressed casual, black slacks and purple button down shirt. As a precaution, he brought an extra set of clothes in an over-the-shoulder backpack and wore a black fisherman style hat to hide some of his hair.
The redhead set off to find some breakfast. He headed toward the two towers. He reasoned that since many of the employees of the building would be starting their days about now, coffee shops would be opening business for the morning rush.
It was getting foggy down on the streets. Ran was glad he'd worn his leather coat. The apartment roof was higher than the fog line, and he'd not pay enough attention to the weather.
Remembering his thoughts from earlier, he paused in his walking. Looking up to see the two giants before him. It made him feel like falling backwards, falling forever into a deep void. Why was he so small?
"Morning Red." It was that nasally voice, again. Ran sighed; this was not a good way to start his day.
Looking towards the building next to him and there he found the man with his friend. It was the Hyatt Hotel and the two men were descending the steps toward him. They were both wearing the same outfits from before. Well, maybe not the one with glasses, suits all looked the same really and white is a common suit color. On the other hand he was sure the carrot top had dressed in the dark this morning, probably every morning. It was a repulsive to look at this early in the morning, but not nearly as hideous a sight as that smirk.
There could not be any sanity left in that man.
"Where are you off to so early in the morning, little Red Riding Hood?" asked the carrot. What business does he have in what Ran was doing. Never let the enemy gain the upper hand.
"Why to my grandmother's house with some cake and a little pot of butter, Mr. Wolf," he replied. Ran wasn't sure how that smirk could get any bigger and still fit on anyone's face, but it had. It was too early in the morning to be dealing with people like this. Hunger and gloom was all that kept him from pummel the tall foreign idiot.
"If you don't mind…" the white suit adjusted a pair of glasses properly on his nose and waited calming before him. The Japanese man look at him, slightly confused as to what was being asked of him. It was as if he were looking at one of the towers, he suddenly felt so small and insignificant against this giant. When did he get so small?
The man was standing so close that the scent of his cologne caught the musician senses. His raven locks of hair had flecks of blue in them. It was silly, but Ran found him to be a handsome man. Then again anyone would seem handsome next to that vile image of the orange idiot.
"The car, Red. We would like to get into the limousine before it runs out of gas," the carrot top explained.
Looking behind at the vehicle, he stepped aside feeling very foolish. However, the smirk was gone and now the ugly foreigner was glaring at him.
The wolf didn't look like the kind of guy who minded being late for work, so why was he glaring now. It wasn't like he'd told the man flat out that he looked like a seedy pervert or an insane stalker, but that was how he viewed the man. Maybe the two foreigners were a couple and so the possessive little twit was jealous.
It was really too early to be thinking this much.
There was a pull on Ran's sleeve. He turned to find three girls dressed in high school uniforms standing in front of the Hyatt. They all looked rather anxiously at him, but he couldn't find of any reason why.
"Um… Excuse us, I'm Tomoe Sakura. I was wondering, are you? Are you Fujimiya Ran?" Oh, that... A logical reason for three teenagers to stand ogling him in the middle of the street at 7:30 in the morning would have to be that they've spotted their idol. He'd forgotten what he was for a moment.
"Yes, can I help you?" He sighed. It was better than the orange phantom; at least these girls liked him. What harm could a few autographs do?
Well, it would have been very little harm done if they hadn't started screaming, which drew a lot of attention. Celebrities and attention were a bad combination. It was getting very crowded very quickly. How was he going to get away?
He felt someone grab him from behind. His world spun for several everlasting moments as he was pulled. He was falling back. There was screaming and shouting, but he couldn't open his eyes. He was moving, the noise was getting less, where was he.
"You're safe, Red. So you can open your eyes now." Ran blinked couple of times to straight his vision.
They'd saved him? They had saved him from the mob. Well, he was out of the frying pan, but the fire was a hot orange color.
He was sitting in the limousine across from the white raven and the orange wolf. He'd certainly not expected them to save him. Why did they help him? Since when do wealthy businessmen drive up and save some poor pathetic strange on the street? Aren't they supposed to run over poor helpless people with their limousine? And why the hell is that man smirking again?
The orange man began snickering. The other man adjusted his glasses again. As handsome as he seemed outside, is exactly how frightening he was inside. The way his spectacles reflected the light as they'd moved, the way his fine white cotton suit contrasted with the black leather interior, how effortlessly professional he, all of those things made the simple musician shiver.
"Where should we drop you off?" the raven asked. His voice was very commanding. It even made the wolf quiet down, probably the only thing in the universe that could silence him. He was still smirking though.
"We're going to a breakfast, want to come Red?" Wolf grinned, which was a nice vacation from his smirk but not any more pleasant to look at. The raven raised a brow to that offer.
"Thank you. Thank you very much for your help, but I should be getting back the my work." Work is good. Eating breakfast with the Lucifer and his orange minion is bad, very bad.
"You didn't look in too much of a hurry earlier." So, the man has more than a smirk. Damn. Ran was not dining with the bogeyman and the smirking madman because he'd become an extremely dead man.
As annoying and depressing as his little world could get, he did enjoy the idea of being alive.
"I couldn't." There would have been extended protests, there would have been stronger rationales, there would have, there really would have. But when the bogeyman raises his hand, the argument ends and his decision is final. Hopefully, the man was still feeling kindly the strangers.
"By the way, Red," he returned back to the classic smirk, "Call me Schuldig. This is Crawford."
The musician opened his mouth to inform him of his own name, but Crawford spoke. No arguments and no interruptions, otherwise the bogeyman will eat you.
"We're breakfasting at the Ota Cooperation Tower." Guess the man was no longer in a generous mood.
"They have the best breakfasts," said the eager wolf to the sweet little lamb.
"It is, however, slightly more formal than slacks so perhaps you'd prefer to stop and change." He wasn't being asked if he'd agree to go, but where to stop to pick up his clothes. Stopping and running away sounded very appealing at the moment. However they'd probably run him over with the limousine in that case. Why in the hell did they want him at some business meeting anyway? And who dressed formally to a breakfast?
Ran hated meetings. He hated today. He hated foreigners. He hated the towers. He hated stupid fans. He hated being in this limousine. But most of all he really hated the way that man kept smirking!
Maybe Schuldig had plastic surgery to make it stick on his face like that.
"I live at in a apartment north of here, The Koneko Sumu-le," he replied. He was caught between fear and elation, since he'd just given his address to two men who could very well slice him to pieces while he slept peacefully and the idea of having his bodyguard by his side soon. The oaf's inability was hardly common knowledge.
"You're something famous though. I bet if we walked into any department store, they're give you everything for free," with that said he picked up the car phone, spoke some strange words and the car stopped in front of the Armani shop.
Ran sighed, what was wrong with his lifestyle that made him deserve this kind of treatment?
It had to be the hair.
Thank you again for reading and all your lovely reviews!