Author's notes:

Once again, a huge thank you to the following people: Keeshe (for your lovely comments), Sardius-chan (for both reviews. ^^), Marty (I think I Takatoried this), Lola-chan (gomen, borrowed your colours here. ^^;), Jin (loved your new chaps!), Rika-neechan (thanks for your encouragement *hugs*), Ku-chan (mail me soon?), sara-chan, Cece, Ash, Midori, Isa-chan, lorien, Whisper-chan (wow! Thanks for your praise), siberian, deathangelgw, Moonraven (eep, more angst), kami-chan, lupin, Carter Tachikawa (thanks for ALL your reviews!), and Kidlet.

Some of you may have already figured out what's gonna happen here. But I know from the reviews that some of you would be in for a bit of a shock. Eeps. I must not have been clear enough in the last chapter. Gomen gomen.

There would be an encounter with a sour yellow fruit in this chap. Repeat: sour. Don't like it or shouldn't be reading it? Then please don't. Also, spoilers in the form of a bastard who claims to be Ken's best friend. And lastly, OOC Ken and Aya and..erm…someone else you will find out as you read. What to do? This is how I see them in this type of situation. I don't claim to be a bible on them.

Also thanks to the new reviewers of S&C and Stare and No Goodbyes. Much much appreciated!!

Weiss is owned by… well, not me. If I did own them, there'll be a whole shounen ai anime series dedicated to Ran and Ken and Schu and Ken and Yohji and Ken and Brad and Ken and …..you get the drift ne?

Anyways, I really hope you don't stone me after reading this chapter. I felt like throwing the whole thing in a trashcan. But nothing better came out no matter how many times I rewrote it. *mopes*

Enjoy. I hope. Ehehe.

White

Chapter Nine - Blood Red on the White

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'blah blah' = thoughts

***** here indicates change of POV

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Soft. So soft.

What was it?

There it was again…

Soft brushing of something fine against his cheeks and shoulders. Soft, warm, fleeting touches on his hips, his sides. Soft breath fanning across his neck.

He could not help but let out a whispered moan as he felt the gentle flicks of a tongue across the warm skin of his collarbone, his foggy mind struggling to claw its way up into the realm of consciousness. A comfortable weight was pushing him further back into the cool sheets cradling his body.

The warm touches transferred themselves to his chest, worshipping the smooth, tanned skin, brushing teasingly, fleetingly across his taut nipples, eliciting another moan and the arching of his back into the touch.

Where was he?

Even as his body was responding to the caresses, images began flashing through his hazy mind. The bar…alcohol…he needed to forget. Forget what? Forget who?

A warm body…holding him…supporting him…leading him away….

He should forget the man. He should get away. But why? His dazed mind refused to understand.

Pale skin…exquisite cheekbones…red hair falling into violet gems that could claim your soul…

'Aya…'

The name escaped his lips as a breathless sigh of longing. He was with Aya. Aya had come to him again, just like those nights.

There was something nagging at him, something he should remember. But he didn't care. Aya was with him now. Nothing else mattered.

A smile curved his lips and another sigh escaped them as gentle nibbles were placed on his sensitive neck and fingers fluttered like butterflies across his taut stomach. He tilted his neck to give more access.

'Aya….'

He wanted to run his fingers through the blood-red hair like he used to. He wanted to touch that pale, soft skin, caress the toned body like how the man was caressing him.

He wanted to so badly, and so he did, raising his hands and reaching out to the man before him...

…or tried to.

Brown eyes blinked open in confusion, barely registering his dimly lit surroundings, as he found that he couldn't move his arms. His mind vaguely registered that they were spread wide above his head, restrained.

What was happening? He didn't understand. Pulling at his hands, he heard the faint clinking of metal, felt the coldness of the material biting into his wrists. Handcuffed. He was handcuffed. But why? Aya never did that before. What was going on?

The cold tingle of fear running up his spine aided in clearing his head somewhat. He was still furtively searching for a way to make sense of the situation. The answer came to him however, as a voice whispered into his ear, a voice that caused his every thought, movement, and breath to cease.

"You finally awake my kitten?"

Brown eyes widened as horror pooled in his gut. It didn't take long for the voice to register. That familiar nasal tone. That familiar, mocking drawl.

Not Aya. Not Aya touching him, kissing him…

Not Aya but…

'No. No! It can't be!'

He didn't want to see him. Didn't want to acknowledge the situation he was in. But as he lifted his aching head and rested his disbelieving gaze on the man in front of him, he knew there was no way he could run or hide from the truth this time.

Rays of streetlight filtering in through the blinds of the bedside window illuminated long, orange tresses. Tresses that framed strong, sharp features, mocking green eyes, and a mischievous smirk.

"Schuldich!" He spat out the word like it tasted foul, lacing it with anger, but nevertheless, unable to hide the fear.

"Nice of you to finally acknowledge my presence mein liebe." The German drawled, running a finger lazily down the prone man's lightly-sculpted chest.

"Don't touch me!" He yelled hoarsely, bucking up, trying to jerk away from the man who was straddling his thighs so intimately. Desperation started to well in him, memories of his last run-in with the German flooding his brain. He was hardly a match for the telepath in their previous encounters, let alone when he was restrained, pinned, disoriented, and unclothed. The last thought struck like a snake and he almost hissed in pain.

A laugh. Genuinely happy. "Why the change of mind? You were enjoying it just moments ago." Fingers resumed stroking lazy patterns on the side of his hip, toying with his hipbone, sending shivers down his spine.

"I wasn't! I… let go of me now!" How dare he taunt him like that? He would never enjoy the German's touches. Never!

But how did the telepath manage to get hold of him. Where was Aya? Where? Did the bastard hurt him?!

Another laugh. Sarcastic this time. "You haven't figured that out have you, Siberian? That was me, not your beloved Abyssinian." Schuldich shook his head mockingly. "It was easy. Too easy. Thought you would have posed more of a challenge."

He could only stare uncomprehendingly at the redhead. 'Not Aya? Wha…'

A cruel snort. "So stupid and naïve still Hidaka. You really thought that he would come for you?"

He froze. Tumultuous brown pools held captive by cold green. His thoughts floundered. What was that Schwarz bastard saying? Of course Aya would come for him. Aya was his teammate, Aya was his friend, his lo…

"Aya was the man who used you and threw you away like a cheap fuck-toy!"

The statement pierced through his thoughts like the sharp slice of a blade, leaving behind a keening pain. Reality came crashing down, jarring a brain still reeling from the after-effects of too much alcohol, and too much denial. Green eyes narrowed in amusement as they embraced the rioting emotions screaming from the brunette. The German couldn't resist. Leaning in closer to the pallid face, he cooed. "Or have you forgotten?"

"No." A whispered denial.

"No?" The telepath raised an eyebrow. "No you've not forgotten? Or no you don't want to remember?"

No answer.

"Maybe you need to be reminded after all." Schuldich leaned forward and whispered softly in his ear.

"No!" It came out as a choked scream, as he desperately tried to stop the impending onslaught of memories.

Too late.

They came. Mercilessly, they came.

Aya's touches in the night, Aya's kisses, their frenzied joining…

Aya's coldness. Aya's harshness and cruel words. Aya walking away, leaving him alone. All alone…

'Aishiteru. Aya.'

'GET OUT!'

' There was no love. It was sex.'

'Did you ever love me Aya?'

'It meant nothing…Nothing… Nothingnothingnothingnothingnothing…'

"Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT!!" The brunette's scream pierced through the silent night as he sobbed, chest heaving, trying vainly to fight against the flashes of pain in his heart and mind. He didn't want to go through it again. He couldn't.

A hand stroking his cheek, warm lips against his ear. "It hurts doesn't it? My poor kitten. Being treated like a whore. And what a pathetic whore you are, still craving for the touch of the man who used you."

"Stop. No more. Please." A choked plea. Eyes clenched shut as he tried to stave off the torment. He should be fighting. He should get away. But he couldn't move. So lost. So tired.

"He didn't even pay you did he?" A chuckle. "But you should have gotten used to that. After all, he wasn't the first one to use you."

The voice turned mocking even as fingers resumed toying with the brown nubs on the brunette's chest. "Or must I remind you of that too?"

"Don't. Please."

It didn't matter what he wanted. The memories still came.

A man, his best friend, laughing, joking, playing a game of soccer in the field…

The same man, taking him in the shower stall after a game, much to his bewilderment. He loved the man though, and it soon turned into nights of passion…

The same man, promising his love and loyalty, only to end up in betrayal, only to die by his hands…

Dull chocolate eyes opened once again only to stare blindly at the ceiling. Like a projector screen, the unwanted memories flashed across its surface, taunting him, killing him…

'Not the first. Not the first.'

The same pain all over again. The same pain, only worse, all over again with Aya…

Silent tears slipped from empty eyes as the German's words echoed in his mind. 'A whore. A pathetic whore.'

Was that all he was to them? Was that all he could be?

"Such a fool Hidaka. Did you really expect to deserve anything better? Haven't you learnt that your beautiful body was all that they wanted?"

'Enough. Please… Enough.'

"Did you really think they would love you? Do you expect Aya to love you? You're just a toy. A beautiful toy that can be used by anyone."

'A toy. Just a toy. Dirty. So dirty.'

An amused chuckle. "Welcome to reality Hidaka. Not so naive anymore are we?"

A shift of weight on the bed. A bigger, naked body pressing heavily down on his. Callous palms running all over his skin, insistent, demanding. Warm mouth sucking hungrily at his throat. A thought, filled with lust, invading his mind. 'Not so naïve that you don't know what I want.'

Shivers ran through his body. He closed his eyes, willing away the sensation of those unwanted caresses. He didn't want this. He didn't want any of it. He only wanted someone to love, and to love him back. But that was too much to ask wasn't it? There was no one…not Kase…not Aya…

Not Aya…

They only wanted his body. Just like what Schuldich wanted now.

'You got that right mein liebe. I want you.' A growl in his head. 'And I'm not taking no for an answer this time.'

His eyes remained closed, not hearing, not seeing. Nothing existed except the images flashing through his brain, images that wouldn't stop. Dark-haired, redhead, they merged together, using him, breaking him. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he should be angry, should be getting away from them, from the man presently violating his body. But he could only lay motionless, defeated.

'You should be used to this by now my kitten. What difference does it make if you give yourself to me?'

His mind was spiraling into nothingness, caving in under the unbearable weight of memories, of pain, sorrow, and despair. Schuldich would not be the first to use him. It didn't matter. It didn't matter anymore.

A smirk graced the German's lips, pressed against the sweet-smelling skin of the brunette's stomach. Well aware of the smaller man's thoughts, he pushed his advantage. Warm lips descended on the soft ones lying beneath him, and a tongue forced its way into the brunette's moist cavern.

'Kiss me back.' The demand was sent to the man under him, as Schuldich plundered the sweet mouth, tongue licking every corner, teeth nibbling at the soft, pink lips.

The demand registered hazily in his pain-fogged mind. He couldn't think. He responded as if on auto-pilot, moving his lips against the ones pressed on his. A growl was heard, and the kiss became rougher, the German sucking on his tongue, fingers pinching his nipples painfully.

A sharp breath drawn in as teeth clamped down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, before a tongue flicked out to lave at the same sensitive spot. The mouth traveled up his left arm, biting and sucking at the soft skin of his inner arm, and he shuddered.

His back automatically arched off the bed as a hand rubbed teasingly across his groin, breaths coming quicker as fingers played and caressed his balls, rolling them against a rough, callous palm.

The moist tongue was moving down his body now, lapping greedily at his nipples, alternately nibbling, suckling. The tongue continued its journey, licking at every inch of his golden skin, tasting him, marking him with random bites. He hissed in pain as teeth clamped down hard on the skin below his hipbone, and he barely heard the chuckle in his head.

'You're still as delicious mein liebe. You taste so good. No wonder they couldn't get enough.'

No. He doesn't want to remember anymore. Please.

Rough hands stroked his sides almost lovingly. 'I'll make you forget my kitty. Just give yourself to me.'

He didn't struggle as he felt hands kneading the toned skin of his inner thighs, parting them further. He didn't struggle as he felt his hips being lifted, and his butt being settled on top of the other's lap.

And then he cried out helplessly as a warm mouth engulfed his manhood, sucking him, jerking him off.

His body responded. Gasps were torn out of his throat. Were they from pleasure, pain, despair? He moaned as the mouth released him and a tongue flicked out to relentlessly tease the slit at the tip, gathering and tasting his pre-cum.

Jolts of electricity were sent coursing through his body as his erection was grabbed and stroked furiously, while a mouth moved lower to toy with his balls. The sensations were too much to bear. He was panting now. A sheen of sweat had broken out on his body, making him look even more alluring in the dim light. A fact that was not overlooked apparently as another loud, possessive growl was heard and the hand pumped faster.

His dark head tossed restlessly against the mattress, sweat-drenched locks plastered on flushed face, hands straining helplessly against the cuffs, causing the metal to bite into the delicate skin of his wrists, drawing blood. He welcomed the pain though. He was shuddering. His muscles were clenching involuntarily. He could feel the white hot sensation building in his body, centering in his groin. He was going to come. He didn't want to. It wasn't right. But there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And so he came, moaning, arching, fists clenching, body writhing.

And the only feeling he registered after spilling his load was emptiness. Bleak emptiness.

He did not have time to dwell on the feeling though. Fingers gathered up the creamy seed from his stomach. Then a gruff voice in his head, commanding, demanding. 'Spread your legs wider.'

Who did the voice belong to? He didn't really know anymore. It didn't matter anymore.

He obeyed detachedly.

Painful. It was painful. He hissed as two fingers entered him at the same time, twisting, stretching. But the pain was tangible, something he could hold onto in a world spinning out of his control.

He dimly registered the fingers withdrawing, then hands grabbing his sweat-slicked skin, hoisting his legs over broad shoulders.

"Tell me what you want Kenken."

'Wha…what I want? I…I want…I can never have what I want…'

A sharp jerk of his hips to regain his attention. "Tell me kitty. Or we'll be playing the whole night. Is that what you want?"

'No... Leave me alone...'

Teeth nibbling at the soft skin of his inner thigh. He whimpered. The command, again. "Say it!"

A barely heard whisper. "Just get it over with."

He could feel the smirk curving the lips against his hot skin. 'What was it again mein liebe?'

"Just finish it!"

Not missing a beat, Schuldich moved. Two cries rang out in the dark room, one of satisfaction, one of pain.

A sob tore out of the brunette's throat as he was rammed into. He was given time to adjust though. He could hear the quick breaths taken by the man above him. Smell the tangy scent and his sweat and lust. His own heart was pounding loudly in his ears, taunting him. Why hadn't it stopped beating yet?

Hot lips claiming his own once again. A gentle thrusting began, the rocking motion stirring something deep within him. He could feel his manhood slowly hardening. He didn't want it to. He tried to will it away.

"Don't resist it Kenken. It's too late to turn back now."

'Too late. All too late. Dirty. So dirty…'

The thrusting came faster, harder. He moaned involuntarily as his erection was grabbed again. Lips at his throat, sucking, biting. Tongue lapping up the sweat collected at the hollow between his collarbones. An approving groan from the man above him. Harsh panting escalating with quickening and more savage thrusts, each push hitting deeper, each push shoving something out of him. Something precious. Something he would never be able to get back again. So ironical that he couldn't help thrusting back, impaling himself further with each stroke. Just like he couldn't help the bitter laugh that was torn out of him.

He was close. He needed to come. Needed that mind-blowing moment to make everything disappear.

And it came. For a few blissful seconds, all he was aware of was the explosion of white light behind his lids and the almost painful convulsing of his body. For a few blissful seconds, nothing else existed. For a few blissful seconds, he could pretend that he was fine again.

But that was just it. A few blissful seconds.

He was jerked back to the present as he felt fingers digging into the abused skin of his slender hips, then the spasms of the man above him as he shot copious amounts of his hot load deep into the brunette's body. The warmth only reminding him of how cold he was.

He could only stare dully at the sweat-drenched face of the German, note the orange tresses clinging damply to his forehead, and the expression of pleasure and ecstasy on the countenance.

He could only bear the weight silently as the man collapsed on top of him, breathing harshly. He was dimly aware of their rapid heartbeats, heartbeats when slowing down, curiously sounded like the chiming of a death toll.

The panting slowly ceased. And then there was silence.

It could have been hours. It could have been mere minutes, he didn't know. A nibble on his earlobe was the next thing he registered. And a sated, amused voice. "I promised that you would give yourself to me one day, didn't I?"

A weight lifted off of him. Movements in the room. All unseen. All invisible to dead brown eyes staring fixated at a ceiling.

His arm was grabbed, prickles running through the tortured limb as it was released. Something waved in front of his vision. Then the voice again.

"Release your other hand yourself. I can't be seen to be too soft now can I?"

His view of the ceiling was blocked. He wanted that face to move away. But it remained there for a while, before moving closer.

An open-mouthed kiss on his lips. Almost tender. A voice in his mind. 'You were a great fuck Siberian. So tasty. Just as I expected.'

A laugh. 'I have to go now. Don't miss me too much.'

Footsteps. The closing of a door. Then the blissful silence again.

Once more, he didn't how long he stayed there on the bed. Not moving, not thinking, not blinking.

Then, a sob pierced the silence, the sound breaking his dark reverie. Where did it come from? Chocolate orbs blinked in amazement as tears slipped unbidden from them. Why was he crying?

It hit him then. Hard, and fast.

The smell.

The smell of sweat, sex, lust came crashing down on him, so heavy so thick, he couldn't breathe. It was everywhere, permeating through his skin, his pores. Further staining his tattered and dirtied soul.

He jolted upright. He started moving. One thought fueling his actions. He had to get out. He had to get out of there!

Panic and fright surged through him as he realised his left hand was still chained to the bed. Another sob of desperation slipped out as he pulled viciously against the handcuff, his frozen brain not registering the key just lying barely within his reach. Tears of helplessness rained down his cheeks as the handcuff wouldn't budge. Frustration made him jerk harder, harder, harder. And finally, with a cry of anger and torment, the chain holding the cuffs broke with a snap, a snap echoed by the breaking of his wrist.

The pain in his wrist went unnoticed as he hauled himself shakily and hurriedly off the bed. With one hand, clothes were haphazardly pulled onto his uncontrollably quivering and chilled body. Just before he moved towards the door however, the key finally fell into his dazed sight. He had to get the handcuff off. He didn't know why. He had to get it off or he was still chained. Chained to the smell of sweat and lust and sex. Chained to the goings-on on that dirty bed.

Pain. It was painful to pull out the metal that had embedded itself into the gash in his wrist. A deep gash caused by his escape attempt. Nothing stopped the flow of blood once the metal was removed. He stared in fascination at the unending stream of crimson that dripped down his hand. So dark. So dirty. Maybe if all the blood were let out of his body, the filth would disappear with it?

The door. He had to get out. He couldn't breathe with that stench on his soul.

He didn't know how he did it. But stumbling, he managed to make it out of the motel into the cold night.

Body temperature plummeted as snow assuaged his form, clad only in T-shirt and jeans. Where to go? He didn't know. Just away. Away from here.

He let his faltering steps take him wherever they wanted, slipping, sliding, falling numerous times onto the snow-covered pavement. It didn't stop his flight however.

He found himself at a familiar field. No. Not Here. Why here? He didn't want to taint the lovely memories of his kids, their innocence, their pure laughter.

But the field looked different somehow. All white, blanketed with snow. So pure. Maybe it was safe here after all. Maybe the snow would help to cleanse him.

Stumbling further into the endless white, he made his way with difficulty to a grove of trees that called out beckoningly to him with their shelter. His feet soon gave way however and he found himself falling.

It was cold. So cold. But it was good. The cold was numbing him. The falling snow burying him, merging him into their landscape as he burrowed deeper into his icy bed. Maybe if he let the snow soak deep into his skin, soak right through his body, he could rid himself of all the dirt and filth?

'A whore. A pathetic whore.'

Weary eyes stared unblinking at the red staining the pristine white, quickly blending in to become a dull, dirty brown.

Maybe if he stayed long enough, he could somewhat cleanse his soul.

*****

He sat bolt upright with a choked cry, panting, heart pounding, sweat pouring down his pale face. Wide violet eyes filled with shock took moments to register that he was still in his room in the Koneko.

Raising a shaking hand to his face, he pushed his sweat-drenched bangs off his forehead, before hunching over, arms wrapped about his chest, desperately trying to still his trembling body.

Clenching his eyes shut, he took in deep breaths in an attempt to calm down.

'A nightmare. Only a nightmare.'

But it had seemed so real. He hugged himself tighter as the images came again.

Ken. Ken being restrained to a bed. Ken moaning as a man touched him, tasted him. Ken wrapping his legs about the man's torso. Ken's beautiful face, wet with sweat, or was it tears, contorting in pain and ecstasy as fingers reached deep inside his body…

Ken crying out and arching off the bed as he was thrust into. Ken whimpering and thrusting back. Ken screaming as he came…

Ken lying there with his beautiful eyes open, staring at nothing. Dead, dead eyes…

"No!" He cried out as tormented violet orbs shot opened. It was a nightmare. Only a nightmare! Then why was there this cold fear clenching his heart? Why did he feel like he was being ripped apart?

Why were his feet taking him to the brunette's room now?

He had never prayed ever since his family was taken away from him. But now he was praying with all his heart that his teammate would be in his room when he opened the door. It didn't matter that he should be staying away from the brunette. He had to see him now.

Dread and anticipation filled him as his shaking hand slowly, quietly turned the doorknob, only to drop to his side listlessly as stunned violet eyes locked onto the bed.

It was empty.

The room was empty.

Where was he?

Not wanting to believe his eyes, he strode further into the room. What did he wish to find? The brunette huddled in a corner? Anything. Anything was better than an empty room. An empty room with no Ken.

But there was no Ken to be found.

Making his way to the window, he rested his aching forehead on the cool pane, trying to force breaths of needed air past the tightness in his chest.

'Ken. Where are you? Are you alright?'

'He just had the best fuck of his life. Do you think he's alright, Abyssinian?'

Eyes snapped open in shock and his body tensed as the thought infiltrated his brain. 'Schuldich!'

He whirled around in the darkened room, unconsciously crouching and adopting a battle stance. 'Bastard! Show yourself!'

'Do you think I'll be that stupid as to enter your kitty den all alone?' He couldn't miss the amused tone in the German's voice. 'Look out the window.'

And then he saw him. Lounging casually against a tree by the road in front of the Koneko, orange hair speckled white by the falling snow. A smirk on his face as his calculating green eyes stared boldly into enraged violet orbs.

He could barely stop himself from jumping out the window as he pushed the panes open. Ignoring the cold wind biting his flushed face, he glared at the telepath, anger apparent in his deep voice. "Where's Ken? What have you done to him? Tell me or you're dead!"

'Tsk tsk tsk! Such arrogance. What makes you think you can touch me Abyssinian? As for your little toy, I must say he was very enjoyable.'

His hands were clutching the sill so tightly his knuckles were turning white. How he wanted to wipe the smirk off that face. That bastard! He had touched Ken!

'My my, so possessive. Didn't you throw him away already? You_are_such a screw-up dear leader.'

He needed to stay in control. He needed to find Ken first. His body was as tense as a bow-string as he grated out his next question. "Where is he? What have you done to him?"

A laugh. 'Weren't the images enough? Do you want to see more?'

A hiss of quickly drawn-in breath. It was as if he was dunked into ice. The images…They were real?! Ken…Ken was…

'I have you to thank for that Abyssinian. If you hadn't done such a good job of breaking him, Siberian wouldn't have submitted to me so easily.'

'No. That's not true….Ken…'

'The poor kitten.' The German sighed dramatically. 'He was in so much pain. It was rather entertaining actually.'

"WHERE IS HE?!" Even he himself was taken aback at the ferocity, the protectiveness in his voice. But he couldn't help it. He just knew he had to get to Ken. He had to find Ken before it was too late.

A frown on the telepath's face as he studied the usually composed redhead. Then a grin spread across handsome features. 'I actually came to thank you for sharing your little toy with me Abyssinian, but it sure looked like I've stumbled upon another form of entertainment. It would appear that letting Siberian die would be a more boring option now.'

'Die? Wha…' Aya froze, breath caught. No. Ken couldn't die. He couldn't!

An amused laugh. 'Oh yes he could. You'd better hurry. Your little kitty is enjoying himself playing in the snow right now. And it's not very healthy for him.'

How he wanted to kill the German right there and then. Damn him and his cryptic remarks! But there was no time. He had to find Ken.

Turning from the window, he dashed out of the room and down the stairs, but not before he heard the final laughing remark sent to him by Schuldich. 'He's at his favourite spot Abyssinian. No need to thank me. I'm waiting to enjoy a good show.'

Grabbing his thick coat, the redhead tore out of the Koneko into the snow-covered night, running like he had never ran before. Running like his life depended on it.

'His favourite spot. The soccer field!'

He didn't stop to question why Schuldich would give him the hint. He didn't stop to question his conclusion. His gut told him he was right. And he prayed that he wouldn't be wrong. He couldn't afford anymore mistakes.

'I'm sorry Ken. I'm coming for you.'

'Please Ken. Wait for me…'

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to be continued

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In case you're wondering why I had Schu alert Aya, well, it's cos I figured that that sick German (eeps, sorry Lola-chan and Isa-chan) would enjoy seeing the boys' confusion and their pain, rather than let Ken die and cut short his chance of free entertainment. I figured that Schu only wanted to toy with Ken anyway and didn't really wish him dead.

Schu: Of course I wouldn't wish him dead. Who would I play with if he isn't around?

Yohji: What about me? *waggles eyesbrows*

Schu: *smirks* Now that's a thought.

Ken: *heaves sigh of relief and collapses*

Ran: Ken! *gathers him in his arms and smothers him to death* Oops!

Ahem. Another thing is, I know I'm frustrating the hell out of some of you lovely readers by taking so long to update. Please trust me when I say I'm trying my best. I'm just really struggling for time. *sighs* Warui ne?

And before you go, please tell me what you think ok? (ie. whether I should go bury this fic under piles and piles of snow)

Sankyuu na!