HI! Me again. Here is the next chapter! I haven't started the next chapter yet, but the 2nd 'Starts..' chapter is almost ready.

Hope you like this chapter…


Even through eternity

Chapter 11

          Misao couldn't help but feel guilty and amused at the same time. Mostly because of her thoughts, her mind that didn't seem able to get out of the gutter even at a time like that! She tried to excuse herself, after all she had always had a… vivid imagination and considering she was sitting so near Aoshi, it was impossible not to fantasize. It was impossible not to think of him touching her, from her head down to her toes. She remembered her acquired knowledge in physical pleasures and had to wonder how he would react when he found what she could do with her body… and his. With her intense physic life style, she could place herself in millions different positions, her body would obey her in every way and she knew how to profit from that. She had to bit her tongue to force herself to return to reality.

            It was a lie that her body would obey to her every thought. There was an infallible way of making it act of its own accord: Aoshi's body. And it had been proved to her just that same day. When Aoshi and she had returned from Kanou Amora's house, where they had met Nicolai, she had been very worried. She knew she had lost another of her few long friends, or what she had thought was a friend. Aoshi had left her to take a shower and change clothes and she had distracted herself with a glass of wine and a book, in her room. But her 'oh so obeying' body couldn't help but take notice of the running water noise. Yes, she had admit that she had been turned on by that noise, because she couldn't stop herself and imagine it running in rivers down Aoshi's body. Then her brain had supplied the image of clouds of steam rising and water clinging to his skin.

            She swore she hadn't meant to, but in seconds she had found herself in his room. The sunlight had been shining through the almost drawn together curtains and had cast shadows all over the room. Right next to the door were neatly placed a pair of bedroom slippers, waiting to be used. Misao had closed the door and all the noise from outside had stayed there and inside only the sound of water could be heard. Less than a meter away from the slippers a shirt had been thrown and then, on the way to the bathroom, lay  Aoshi's pants. Misao had never pegged him for a careless man, but time had changed him and she couldn't wait to learn all about those little things.

            She had grabbed his shirt and had risen it to her nose, trying to catch that subtle smell that was Aoshi's. And there it was: salty, earthy and, amazingly enough, the touch of leather. It had to be from his car seats. But non the less, that smell didn't help her calm down, quite the contrary. So she had dropped the shirt and, before she couldn't stop herself and grab his pants, Misao grabbed hold of her wineglass and had contented herself with his window view. That is, until he came out of his bath, only clad in a flimsy towel. Then his chest had completely blocked her brain. She, in fact, couldn't remember very well what she had done and said during that time and the time she woke from her stupor and found herself face to face with an extremely flushed Aoshi, with a tremendous hard-on. What ever it had been, Misao could bloody well feel proud, because Aoshi would never be able to say he hadn't been tremendously horny at that point!

            So, now that she was sitting less than 40 cm from him, while he drove them to Eric Takanoha's house, Misao was feeling guilty and amused, because she couldn't help her brain and eyes to follow his every move, the way he handled the gear-shift. Unfortunately for her Saitoh sat in the back seat, chain-smoking and, by the smile she could see in his face, in the mirror, Saitoh looked like he knew what he was doing to her. She felt uncomfortable with him around, because her body couldn't avoid being perpetually aroused around Aoshi. It was her immortal plague, but she would be making sure he felt it. Oh yeah!


            Aoshi had drove to the warehouse district in deep thought, but he would have to be in really deep thoughts to miss the sexual tension coming from Misao. He wondered if she understood herself what she was doing, because it was clear in the smallest things, starting in her posture. Her chest was sticking slightly up, because of her harsh breathing, and she even had her legs slightly opened. It was a clear message when her eyes followed his hand on the gear-shift and back to the steering wheel. He felt like an animal at the zoo, being closely watched. When her eyes trailed down to his thighs Aoshi looked closer at her face: her cheeks were flushed, her lips were parted and her tongue made quick darts over them to wet them. It was one of the most erotic images he had ever seen and… and… Saitoh was in the back seat, smoking like a chimney. Fuck!

            Well, it wasn't all Saitoh's fault. Even if he hadn't been there, Aoshi couldn't just stop at the road's edge and have a quickie. They were in a rush, people were dying! Damn to hell his sense of honor, sometimes he just wished to throw everything to hell and escape with Misao to Tahiti or something. Maybe when all that mess had been solved, they would be able to pack and leave for a quiet place for a while. And have long, steamy sex. He could barely wait. Oh yeah!

            The address Monty had printed corresponded to an old and shabby building, that appeared to have five floors and two of them must've been abandoned. Most of the building's windows were broken, except the ones on the last floor that was owned by Eric Takanoha. Aoshi parked his car on the other side of the road and they crossed it. Saitoh got to the front door first and, with a violent push, the old door gave way to a dark and dusty corridor. Saitoh threw his smoke to the floor and stepped on it, before entering. Misao followed, leaving Aoshi in the rear. At the end of the corridor there were stairs, which didn't look all that safe, and a large elevator, which must be used to load large weights, stood to their right. Saitoh opened the elevator and then closed it behind them. The elevator gave directly way to the floors or houses. The last floor had large, blood red curtains over the elevator's door, but no kind of protection from intruders.

            "This is a really secluded place, I doubt anyone would pay visits to Eric." Saitoh whispered, looking around to see if the owner of the house was there. But the silence and stillness that answered them told them the house was empty. The entrance hall was completely empty of furniture, except a large sculpture of marble, of a warrior carrying it's sword. " Little Eric looks well off."

            "A sculpture of this kind is quite expensive." Misao said, having worked in the art business herself. "And notice how the house is restored inside. This must've cost big money too." On either side of the hall there were two doors. They found that the one on the right gave way to a small toilet, but the one on the left led them to a large room. It was fill with sculptures and, hanging on the walls, there were at least fifteen ancient swords. "This collection is worth millions! Who the hell is this guy?"

            "Maybe this will help us figure that out." Saitoh said, from the end of the room. On the farthest wall were hanging Eric's diplomas. " He apparently went to Oxford, got a graduation in Physics and – you'll never guess."

            "What?" Misao asked, leaning over a glass container where an old book about the Immortals lay.

            "This guy, who is only 27, has graduations in Physics, History and Psychology. This guy must be a genius or something!" Next to those three diplomas, family photos were also hanging. Eric appeared to be the son of a Japanese and a Western, because his hair was light brown, almost blond. His pointy eyes appeared to be of a light color too. In all his photos he showed an easy-going smile, which no doubt made him irresistible with the ladies. In most of those photos he appeared accompanied by a young Japanese girl, who looked like many others. The only thing special about her was her smile: it was a big, goofy smile that got to her eyes. It was a really nice smile.

            Aoshi made his way to that wall and looked at those pictures. He observed closely one of them, where Eric was hugging the girl. Saitoh passed it as nothing special, until Aoshi took it from the wall and opened the frame. In the back of the picture an inscription was written.

To Eric from Omata, with love.

19.6.2000

            Aoshi closed the frame and placed it on the wall again. Misao, by this time had already opened Eric's private working table. It was one of those closed ones, with lots of small drawers. Misao opened each of them, finding bills, receipts, unused paper… Until she tried opening one of the smallest drawers and found it locked. Misao looked around herself and found a letter-opening. Carefully, not to leave any mark, she put it over the drawer's lock and gently pushed. After some moments of pressure the lock gave way and Misao quickly opened it. The drawer contained two stacks of letters, tied together by two ropes. Misao untied the first stack and read the writer's name. Imagata Omata, living in Tokushima near the Xicoco mounts, on the island of the same name of the archipelago that is Japan. Misao read all the sixteen letters, which were made of usual references to the weather on the island, about the hot, but still rainy days Omata passed there. She gave him accounts to her goings to the beach, about the soft sand and she the clear water that composed the Seto see. She would sometimes ask him to go visit her and she never once mentioned an occupation or job. She looks bored, but resigned. Until her last letter, which was dated from two weeks before. It was a long letter, unlike all the other, where she exposed her utter boredom, her hope for more and showed Eric her lack of belief in his excuses not to go see her.

«I know you say this is for my own security, but I'm not able to live here for one more day, not even one more hour. This is not a place where a daughter of Tokyo is able to live. I've seen places and I've seen them with you, so I'm sure you'll understand me. I don't understand what you're doing, for I never even understood what you do for a living! I know you're not a cop nor a detective, but you carry a gun and you have a police officer's schedule. What do you do? What does that tattoo you have inside your wrist mean?

Believe me, I wouldn't mind to hide if you told me I was in danger because of your job and your enemies. Well, that was what you told me, but I need to know what you're doing every day. If it endangers me, it endangers you and I can't imagine anything good when you can't even visit me for one week! I would feel better if you told me you're a hit man or something! Everything is better than not knowing!

I've made up my mind. I've already bought a ticket and I'm arriving in Tokyo in three days. I'll be waiting for you at my house. There's nothing you can tell me that will make me change my mind. I miss my dad and my sister. I miss you! You're letters are always so cold. I know they have to be, because you're hiding your true self from me. That job of yours takes up all your time and you can't have anything to tell me, if you wish to hide it from me. I love you and I'm coming back, even if it means losing my life.»

She had send kisses and them signed. Misao looked better at the letter: the writing was that of a disturbed person. She turned around and called Aoshi and Saitoh. They read the letter and looked at each other.

"I'll tell Monty to try and find Omata's address in Tokyo." Aoshi said. "Do you think Eric send her to Tokushima to protect her from Immortals?"

"It depends." Saitoh replied, lighting another cigarette. "He can be a Watcher's traitor and he may be afraid the Immortals  find him out. Or he could be working with the traitors undercover and be afraid they'll find out."

"On either case, do you think she's still alive?" Misao asked, untying the rope around the other stack.

"I think so. If she's already dead that would mean he had been found out, so he wouldn't have been where he was this afternoon." Saitoh said, looking over her shoulder at the new letters. This stack was bigger than the other one and  it was in fact made up of reports and not letters. The reports were written by different Watchers, just usual reports. But there were at least twenty different reports, that they didn't have time to read at the moment. Aoshi grabbed his small camera and photographed each one of them. Misao was tying the stack again when the phone rang. Once… Twice… Third…

"Hi, this is Eric and I'm not in at the moment. Please leave a message after the bip and I'll call you when I can. Thank you."

"Eric, where the fuck are you?! You're supposed to be here and I can't reach you at you cell-phone. I've had enough of your disappearance acts and I don't like them one bit! I hope you have a good excuse. Call me."

The three of them watched the message recorder as if it might jump up and attack them. Then they looked at each other and sighed.

"I know it's not a great idea, because of the cell-phones and all, but can we tag his phone?" Misao asked, not used to the detective work they were doing. Aoshi nodded and grabbed his own cell-phone.

"Monty, I need someone to come over here and tag this guy's phone. Oh, and by the way, I want all the available data on one Imagata Omata."

Then they moved out of the living room, into a small bedroom. It had a large, king-sized bed, with common cotton sheets. Over the bedside table there was a photo of Omata and another of a couple, probably Eric's parents. The room's walls were covered with book shelves and over the floor laid a red carpet. Then there was another bathroom and a large kitchen. When they were looking inside the kitchen cabinets, Aoshi's phone rang once and then they heard the elevator move. Misao and Saitoh looked at him.

"It's alright. It's them." They returned to the entrance hall and welcomed Antonio, who carried a suitcase.

"So, boss, what's the job?" He asked, looking at the sculpture.

"You just have to tag the phone."

"Sure, where is it?"

"Over here." All of them entered the large living room. Antonio whistled, looking at all the exposed art.

"A millionaire Watcher?" Antonio sat besides the phone and placed the instrument inside it in three minutes. "Well, those traitors have to earn something for betraying there own, right?" He said, while working. Aoshi, Misao and Saitoh looked at each other, assuring themselves they had all thought of that. "There. All done!"

"Then lets go." Saitoh said, moving out of the room. They got out of the building and into the car. When they were moving down the street, Misao saw in the rear-mirror a car stop in front of the same building and a man get out of it. By the hair color it seemed like Eric was returning home. Misao turned to Aoshi.

"Can we hear that tag already?" She asked.

"Yeah, sure." He looked at her. " What for?"

"I think Eric just got home." Aoshi grabbed his phone and called Antonio, who was in a car just behind them.

"Antonio, start taping now. Eric just got home." He hung up and looked at Misao. "This is getting so confusing." He sighed and seemed to be thinking. "Misao."

"Yes?"

"What do you say to a trip to Tokyo?" Misao looked at him and understood immediately. He wanted to find Omata and dig anything he could.

"You find that address and the ticket, and I'm ready."

"Good. Saitoh, will you stay here and run things for some time? We won't take long." Saitoh nodded and lighted another cigarette.


"We will be landing in 10 minutes. The temperature in Tokyo is 27º, with 10 km/hour winds. It's a sunny afternoon and we hope you enjoyed the trip."

Aoshi closed his book and looked out the window. He could already see Tokyo beneath them, interrupted by white clouds. On his other side Misao slept on her seat. She had refused being seated by the window, she had said she preferred the aisle seat. She had slept almost the entire trip, which hadn't been all that much time.

Looking at her Aoshi didn't feel like waking her up just yet. Her face was turned to him, her hair wasn't in its customary braid, but loose over her shoulders and chest. It was so pretty! Her long eyelashes rested on her cheeks, she was flushed and her lips red.

The stewardess came to them to tell them to buck their sit-belts. Aoshi did his and Misao's, without waking her. Misao groaned and laid her head in his shoulder. Aoshi couldn't help but kiss the top of his head and drew the hair off her face. The plane landed softly on the track and then Aoshi eventually had to wake Misao up.

They were waiting for their bags, when Aoshi switched his phone on. After some seconds he received notice that he had a voice message.

"Aoshi, this is Saitoh. The tag on Eric's house hasn't given us much. He's made two calls to a club outside of town, that Monty is already checking out, and one to a Cheryl Maddock, who conveniently enough is Imagata Omata's neighbor. Monty tells me she moved in to her new apartment one week after Omata returned. I'm trying to see Eric's telephone records, but I'm almost certain Cheryl was placed there to watch Omata. I'll call you when something new comes up."

Aoshi told Misao what had been said in the message and both of them agree with Saitoh's opinion about Cheryl Maddock. They left the airport and caught a taxi to their new address, one small apartment near Omata's that Saitoh had supplied.

The taxi stopped in front of a recent building of glass, which had a doorman at the bottom waiting to open the door for them. Each one of them carried just one bag, where they had a small amount of clothes and their swords. They entered the apartment and dropped their bags in their rooms.

"So, what's the plan?" Misao asked, looking at a cheap painting hanging on a wall.

"I was thinking about trying to become friends with Omata." He said, after expressing his distaste for the painting. "Maybe you could start. You know, you're new here and so on."

"Won't that take too long? We haven't exactly got years to solve this, right?" Aoshi seemed to digest what she said.

"You're right." He said after a while. "What about you try to talk to her and, by accident, you end up showing the tattoo on your wrist."

"What tattoo? – Oh! My new tattoo."

"Yes, that one. Then she'll recognize it and will try to know what it is, since she doesn't know what it stands for."

"Ok. And where are we going to find someone to draw that thing on my wrist? It ain't exactly a trendy figure."

"Leave that to me."


            Omata closed her apartment door with one hand and tried to balance the large packing with the other. She had been cleaning her place since she had returned from that God forsaken town, so she was going to donate some of her old studying books to the local library. Omata sighed. Since she had returned Eric hadn't called her at all and she hadn't been able to call him, because he had changed his number and his new number didn't come listed. She wanted to see him so bad!

            Her thoughts were interrupted when her new neighbor opened her door and came outside, with her bobtail, a very large dog. The dog itself looked nice, but its owner scared her like hell. It looked like Cheryl, her neighbor's name, was constantly checking her out and the thing was that she always left her house when she did! It was so weird!

            "Hello, Omata. How are you?" Omata nodded and patted the dog's head. "I'm going out to walk Mart. And you?"

            "Oh, I'm going to the library to donate these books." Cheryl nodded. "Well, bye."

            "See ya!"

            Omata walked out of the building and turned right, to the library. She hadn't turned the corner when a small hand touched her shoulder. Omata quickly turned around and couldn't help but imagine that behind her was one of those men Eric feared so much. But no, behind her, with a look of a completely lost person, was a young woman with long, black hair and dressed in what looked like an expensive Dolce&Gabana suit, considering the initials on her jacket pocket. Omata was the daughter of a rich man and had always nurtured one the worst habit rich people had: she was a total shopoholic. So, considering she had just returned from Tokushima, she had to delight her eyes on the new model the young woman wore.

            "Hi. I'm sorry, but I'm kind of new in these parts and I've a meeting in a place called…" She looked at a paper on her hand and tried to read it, but Omata wasn't concerned about that anymore. On the woman's wrist, clear as Eric's, was a circular tattoo. The woman looked up and Omata had to pretend to be waiting for her to speak. "It's called 'Dolce amore', I think it's an Italian restaurant. However I have no idea where it is. Can you help me? It's getting late." She raised her sleeve, to look at her watch, and Omata's eyes turned to her wrist again.

            Could this woman be after her, like Eric had told her? He had never told her any traits about those people and he had never explained the meaning of that tattoo to her. The young woman looked so peaceful and nice! The kind of girl she would have befriended if they had met each other in one of her father's parties. Now that she looked closely at her Omata realized she had blue eyes and she was smiling at her.

            "Are you okay, Miss? You seem a bit out of it." The girl said, looking at Omata and she realized she had been looking for too long. "I better take you somewhere and buy you a water or something. You look like you could need something to eat too." She started to turn around, to cross the street into a coffee shop on the other side, and pulled Omata with her. "I'm Ikumi, by the way. What's your name?"

            "O-Omata." They had already crossed the street when Omata remembered Ikumi had a meting to attend to. "What about your meting?"

            "Oh, it's just a weird kind of date, with an ex-boyfriend. I never wanted to go in the first place, so now I have an excuse to dump him." She answered with a smile. She entered the coffee shop and sat in a reclusive table. Omata watched her closely as she looked around, called the waiter and, while ordering, managed to flirt with him. The young man moved away from their table with his face turned completely red! Ikumi seemed to be enjoying herself, looking around.

            "So, what are all those books for?" She asked, when her 'guy-inspection' finished.

            "Oh, they're old books that I'm donating to the library." Omata answered, while Ikumi took off her jacket. Omata was sure she must've looked a bit stupid, when she realized Ikumi only had a skimpy white top under the jacket.

            "Never was one for much reading." Ikumi said, turning her pretty nose in a display of distaste. "My job doesn't need extensive reading, if you know what I mean." She said. Omata realized she couldn't let that chance go: she figured that Ikumi, though nice, was a stupid bimbo, of which she would easily snatch information. She just had to be careful.

            "Really? What do you do? Are you a model?" She asked, trying to sweet talk her way in. Ikumi giggled.

            "No, not really. I'm more in surveillance and that sort of stuff." Now that was strange, Omata thought. What could surveillance possibly have to do with that tattoo both Eric and Ikumi had?

            "Surveillance? Are you a cop?" In the meant time the waiter returned with their drinks and Ikumi grabbed the chance to slip a large tip inside the young man's pants. Omata couldn't see where she got the guts to do that! Sure she was very pretty, gorgeous even, but one had to be gutsy to pull that one off!

            "He has the must amazing ass, doesn't he?" Ikumi asked, when the waiter walked away. Omata just smiled weakly and took a sip from her drink. When she looked at Ikumi again, she was watching something behind her very closely.

            "What's the matter, Ikumi-san?" Omata turned her head and immediately found what the other woman's stare source. It was a man, in his late twenties, tall and awfully cute. If she wasn't so in love with Eric, she might have seconds thoughts while watching that man.

            "That's quite an addition to the universe." Ikumi whispered. Omata realized that she would have to make her questions fast, while she was in a daze.

            "So, does that tattoo have anything to do with your surveillance job?" Omata asked. Ikumi nodded dumbly. "And is it dangerous?" Another nod. "Who do you watch?"

            "Oh, just these possible murderous and make sure they don't step out of line." At first Omata thought she might be pulling her leg, but Ikumi was still in a complete daze over the other tall fellow. Then, when truth stepped in, she realized Eric was working with very dangerous people, like he had said. Well now she knew what he did for a living, but she wanted more. Omata looked from Ikumi's tattoo to the woman's face – maybe she knew Eric and where he was.

            "Uh, do you know a Takanoha Eric?" She asked with a soft voice. Ikumi seemed to have woken up all of the sudden.

            "Eric? You mean a blond, light colored-eyes, always smiling Eric?" She asked nervously. Omata didn't know what to say, but she ended up nodding.

            "Yeah, I know him." Her face seemed to harden. "He works where I do, but the little bastard betrayed us and is now working for those murders." Ikumi seemed to be totally enraged. Omata shook her head, it wasn't possible… "He just wanted to get his hands on their dirty money so now…"

            "That not true!" Omata screamed. "He is a decent man, he just wants to do the right thing! He told me he was going to catch them and stop it all. I don't know what or why, but I know he would never work for killers just for money! He's already rich." Omata grabbed her purse and ran out the coffee shop, not even remembering her books.


            Aoshi watched Omata walk out the coffee shop and turned his head towards the other woman, who had been left there. Her eyes were set on him, with a not so happy look in her eyes. She probably didn't like her last conversation one bit, he figured. He watched her leave money on the table, get off the chair and walk up to him. He had to admit she looked great in those clothes and she had an air of a predator.

            "Hi there, gorgeous." She said when she reached him.

            "Hi yourself. Want to sit?" She sat on the chair next to him. "So, what did she say, Misao?"

            "Well, she swallowed the 'I'm a dumb bimbo that only cares about sex' story and started asking questions. But, apparently, she is certain Eric would never work for murderous just for money, and that he told her he would catch them. Whoever the hell 'them' is." Misao answered.

            "That's all?"

            "Well, I figured that the only way for me to get an answer out of her was to provoke her, but I may have over done it a bit. She ran out of here as if – shit!" Misao eyes were set on the door, with a look of terror. Before Aoshi had time to turn his head to look, she grabbed his head and kissed him. He was a bit amazed at first, but he found impossible not to answer to that kiss. His left hand went around her waist and his right dived in her hair, deepening their kiss. Misao's hands also made their way to his body, one in his hair and the other in his thigh, for leverage he supposed. When the kiss ended, for it had to considering they needed oxygen to live, Misao giggled. He found it strange, but then, out the corned of his eye he saw Omata pick up her large package. He also noticed that the entire coffee house was staring at them. He had to give Misao some credit, for her quick thinking. Omata was returning and was going to pass right behind them. Misao giggled again.

            "How about we go to a more private place, handsome?" She asked, with a purring voice. He couldn't help but be excited, even if it was all just an act, remembering to her tease another day.

            "Sure. Lead the way." By this time Omata had already ran out the shop and was crossing the street. Misao dragged Aoshi out the coffee shop and they entered his car. Aoshi looked at his mirror and saw Omata walking down the street, in the library's direction. He also saw a tall blonde woman walked a few meters behind. Apparently Cheryl was still following Eric's girlfriend. Aoshi looked at Misao and caught her looking at him. He couldn't help but regret the fact that she didn't feel comfortable in that kind of clothes. She was a total knockout.

            "You know," she said, "she found you hot."

            "What?!" Aoshi smiled, he could fell the humor in her teasing.

            "Oh, yeah, I saw her eyes run over that thigh butt of yours." Aoshi was now laughing. It was impossible not to, she was already wearing a small smile. "If we didn't need information, I might have boxed her."

            "Right. If I went out punching every guy that looks you over, half Kyoto and half Tokyo would already by punched drunk." He answered, starting the car. He heard her laughter, then felt her lean over and peck him in the cheek. He caressed her hair and then drove them to his apartment.

            "So… now what do we do with this information?" Misao asked.

            "We'll report it to Saitoh, put someone watching Omata (and Cheryl, by the way) and try to communicate with Eric."

            "How can you be certain that he's not a traitor? I mean, yeah, Omata said he wouldn't do any kind of dirty job for money, but she's his girlfriend, for Christ sake. What kind of guy would tell his girlfriend that he's a traitor, a dirtbag and that he's meddling in things he shouldn't be?"

            "I think we'll have to risk it, Misao. We are stuck, we can't go back and we can't move ahead, unless we take a chance and trust this Eric guy." Aoshi said, stopping at a red light. Misao didn't like it one bit. They were in it too deep to just 'risk' it. What if they trusted this guy and he ended up betraying them? She had just found Aoshi again and they were beginning a new relationship, she didn't feel like dying very much. She would like to around for at least a couple of more centuries, around him if possible. The idea of HIM dying wasn't pleasant in the least. If he died now, they might as well kill her too.

            Misao looked at him, while he waited for the signal to open. She could tell he was deep in thought, because he had a thin line crossing his forehead and one of his mouth's corner was in a funny angle – he would always do that, even before, when she had been just a child. It was a very mild twitch of the mouth, barely visible, but for her everything he did was worth mentioning. She was rippled out of her thoughts by the ringing of Aoshi's phone. He grabbed it and started driving, for the signal had went green.

            "Yes?… Who is this?" Misao looked at him, he seemed even more troubled, he was looking at her with concern. "Very well." He hang up and turned the left sign on.

            "What's happening?" Misao asked, they were supposed to go in front, not turn left.

            "We're being followed." He stated.

            "What? How are we going to diss them?"

            "We aren't. They just called me and told me to pull up, or they'd shoot us." He answered, calmly, looking in his rear mirror.

            "Who is 'them' anyway, God damnit?" Misao shrieked.

            "Milo and his friends. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a couple of Immortals with him."

            "Or Eric himself." She muttered.


Hope you liked it. Please review for me. hanks for reading!

MaRiAnA-chan