Rain
He rose in the middle of the night, still clothed, as he had been when he slipped under the covers, his knuckles still stained with a small amount of blood, though by now it was dry. The moon was gone, and in its place a darkness he could barley penetrate. Rain struck the windows, echoed on the empty street below, it seemed the water was as black as the night. The glowing numbers of the alarm clock beside the bed told him it was not even midnight yet, much to his disappointment. What did it matter, though? When tomorrow came? What would have changed? Aya's eyes glinted in the faint light from the moon coming through his window. What was an assassin to do? The answer seemed suddenly obvious.

Ken paced his room. Aya was taking this thing way to hard. It wasn't like him at all. Then again, they had never lost a teammate.
Abandoned
That must be how we all feel, I mean, we've all been abandoned in our pasts…and now this…I guess Aya just couldn't take losing another one.
The soccer-player's eyes narrowed. That was no excuse for Aya's constant sulking and bad-temper. Wasn't making things better. Especially for Omi. Ken's brows knitted in a look of concern. Poor kid. He of all people shouldn't have to see their leader this way. He remembered the little blonde's expression when he had entered the apartment after the fight. Omi had been propped up against the wall, not making a noise. Ken had thought him dead. But he was not, and opened his eyes as the dark assassin had entered, Aya's body clutched to him, blood all over. No sign of Youji, no sign of life in the prone read-head. The look in Omi's eyes had been unbearable. Utter defeat. Pain, and defeat. Ken stopped at the window, watching the black rain pound against the glass, watching the lights flicker slowly.
What am I to do?
He really had no idea. Other than…just try and offer some form of comfort to his roommates. He felt a sudden wave of guilt.
I was the only one who never got hurt…why didn't I help them? Why didn't I go to them?
And then there was an image of Farferello skittering through his mind, like dry, red, leaves. Insane laughter echoing through the streets. A rasping voice telling him that tonight was his night to die. Ken was not dead. He considered himself lucky. That man…if you could call him that, could carry a LOT of knives. But then there was Crawford to consider…after all, he had had a gun, too…and yet Aya was still alive…he had a hole in his gut, but yes, he was alive…and that was more than what he could say for Youji. An image of blonde hair flickered across his mind's eye…and bright green eyes.
You think YOU'RE taking this hard…think of Aya
He couldn't. Youji had been the one person who had even started to come close to the red head, and now he was gone…and Aya was as closed to the other two as he had been the night they had come together. The four of them. Ken sighed. Manx was NOT going to be happy. His head snapped up suddenly as he heard a faint knock on the door, his eyes narrowing. A tentative voice…
"Ken?"
It was Omi…Why was he so nervous? The door creaked open, allowing the hallway's light to seep in.
"It's Aya again…he's not in bed…and…and it's raining…"
Ken suppressed a quick surge of rage, but his voice still came out strangled and angry.
"He's out? Where?"

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Rain. Cleansing rain.
He stood, his face turned up towards the black sky, watching the individual droplets as they fell towards him, landing on his cheeks and nose and lips. His red hair was flowing and damp, sticking to his white shirt and in one place to his cheek, where it touched the corner of his lips.
On one side…there is fire and pain…and on the other there is this
Aya drew in a deep breath, taking in the moist air, the scent and taste of the damp street…His pale hands were limp and spread at his side, reaching for something untouchable, his back arched ever so slightly as to allow himself a view of the dark recesses of sky…and the touch of white light to the cloud…a reflection of what had been a moon. There had been some intention…some reason to coming out here…but Aya could not identify what exactly it was, and neither did her care. Purpose didn't really matter anymore.
The blood has been shed, and I have lost what was left of my mind. Now what? Left alone on some street corner, tasting the rain? Did they even notice I left?
He knew that they had noticed. Or at least Omi had. He had seen the large blue eyes peering at him from the crack in the blonde's door…had seen tears as they tumbled unchecked down the teenager's cheek. It had only been a glance…but it had stopped him. It had robbed him of his thought, and therefore his desire to go after Youji as he had planned crazily in his restless bed. It had brought back his sanity, and it was something he did not want now.
Aya was motionless. He knew they were coming. He could almost see them. Could almost hear Ken's protests…but when they were here, they would understand…one pale hand reached down, caressing the hilt of the katana strapped at his waist.
More Schwarz blood soon, I promise.

Ken forced himself to breathe steadily as he rifled through the pile of dirty laundry and discarded odds and ends that littered his floor. Finally he came across what he wanted and held it above his head triumphantly. Three steely claws flashed in the low light of his bedroom. Swiftly, his hand was at his front again, and he was wrapping the leather around his palm, concentrated, practiced. Then he was out the door again, met by Omi, who was holding his crossbow loosely in one hand, the empty cloth cover for Aya's blade clutched in the other slightly shaking hand.
We've grown to close to each other
Ken shook the thought from his head, leading the way down the narrow hallway at a dead run, Omi close behind him…

The burst onto the empty street, and the chocolate haired assassin's eyes darted up the road, looking for the telltale flash of red hair. There was none. He cursed and came to a stop, his breath coming with slight difficulty. Omi came up beside him, an expression of worry on his soft features, rain running rivulets down his face and through his hair.
"Where would he go?"
Omi shrugged.
"I'm guessing wherever he thinks Youji is."
Ken looked at his partner quickly, startled at the bitterness in his quiet voice. He was already soaked, and the rain was coming down in torrents, making the black cement of the street look white.
"Fuck it, lets just stick to the road."
Omi nodded, and they broke into a run again, Ken tucked his claws into the curve of his stomach, hoping to keep the rainwater off of them. It didn't help much, as his jacket was dripping just as much as the outside weather.
They rounded the corner, splashing through a pool of water without regard, breath ragged in their throats with both anxiety and from the sprint. In a sudden movement, Ken came to an abrupt stop, hovering for a moment, unbalanced.
Aya.
His blade was bare, rainwater dripping from the tapered end, glittering in the faint moonlight. He wore no jacket, just the white shirt he had been wearing in his room. He stood with his back to them, so that Ken could not see his face, but he knew that the red-head had been waiting for them…his air was one of something very close to satisfaction, and Ken became uneasy, holding his hand up in order to stop Omi, who had started to step forward.
"Aya. We're here."
The assassin quietly turned, and Ken was taken aback at the expression…his lips were curled back in a sneer, eyes downcast, but angry. His chest rose and fell evenly with each controlled breath. Ken said nothing, didn't move.
"I noticed………"
Omi snaked under the Brunette's arm, and Ken made a half-grab for him, but failed. Instead he stood strait, lips half parted, wondering vaguely if Aya would dare to hurt the younger blonde again. He saw indecision flicker over the redhead's features; highlighted by the coursing rain…no…he had more sense than that. Omi approached…and then stood only meters away from his teammate, the water making his hair stick to his forehead. Aya watched him suspiciously; violent eyes glinting…but apparently found him relatively harmless, and turned his gaze back up to Ken.
"Are you coming, Siberian?"
The assassin took a step forward…and then hesitated.
"Where?"
"To get Youji back."
Ken stood shocked for a moment…surely it was a suicide mission…but the again…
"Of course…"
Aya smiled coldly and turned around again, facing the shadows of the gray city. He didn't move, though, until Ken drew up next to him, wet mass of chocolate hair blowing back from his face in a sudden burst of wind.
"Lets go."

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The guard was surprisingly easy to neutralize, and Youji killed him with a swift cut to the throat and a bullet to the chest, for effect. He stepped over the body and into the room beyond. It was sparse…no decorations on the walls, no furnishings…only the solitary computer, it's screen dark and foreboding. Sliding into it's cushioned chair, Youji drummed his fingers absently on the tabletop as he waited for it to load. When it did, he easily found the program he needed…all those hours spent leaning over Omi's shoulder had paid off after all…he felt a twinge in the bottom of his chest at the thought of his blonde teammate, but he shoved it away.
Save the sentiments for later, kitten.
Long fingers clicked on the keys of the keyboard, emerald eyes absorbed by the glowing screen. Briefly he turned his gaze away, fumbling for a disc in amongst the neatly stacked piles of junk beside the computer. He found one and jammed it into the drive. It clicked a few times…and then allowed him to execute the transfer. Whatever the file was, it was large. Youji waited anxiously for the upload to complete…and when it did shut the computer down swiftly, removing the disc and, once putting it back in it's plastic case, shoved it deep into his pocket. The door slammed open and he took the stairs two at a time. What a stupid piece of shit Crawford was, there had hardly been any…security…
He flung the door open at the bottom of the stairs, expecting to find an empty street and Shuld's little car on the curb. But instead he met the barrel of a handgun.
His eyes traveled along it, to the face of its bearer. The assassin stood frozen. He heard very soft laughter teasing at the back of his head.
Oh come ON, kitten. When things were THAT easy, you should have at least been expecting it a LITTLE bit.
Youji didn't grace this with a response. The gun bearer was addressing him.
"What…exactly…do you think you're doing here?"
The emerald-eyed assassin thought about it for a moment…and then seemed to reach a decision.
"You see…"
He struck high, his forearm contacting the gun at the barrel, turning it away from him. It fired off into the night, not even coming close to harming him. At the same time, a knee flew into the other man's groin and he doubled over, the weapon skittering across the pavement. Youji lifted his foot in a large arc, slamming his heel into the man's temple. He dropped like a rock. The wind whipped around his face as he regarded the man, lying crumpled on the cement. He contemplated killing him, but discarded the idea. One death was enough. And besides, who knew whom this one worked for. Crawford, sure…maybe the police…maybe even another one of Schuldich's tricks. One could never be entirely sure.
His eyes darted for a second…and then he reached down for the gun, tossing it negligently onto the passenger seat as he approached Schuldich's vehicle. He had left the windows open and the doors unlocked. Who cared if it got stolen? All the more trouble for his captor. He opened the driver's side and slid into the seat, turning the keys in the ignition. It roared to life, and he was just about to pull out, when a voice stopped him.
"Leaving without me, kitten? I'm ashamed!"
Youji jumped as the read-head sidled up to the car, a lopsided grin on his face. It was not a pleasant expression.
"How did you get here?"
Shuldich shrugged.
"I got Bradie-kins to drop me off a few blocks from here. Ironic, ne?"
Youji played with the key chain, staring blankly at his chipper enemy as he opened the passenger seat door and removed the gun discreetly before sitting down.
"Lets go then."
Tires squealed, leaving thick black marks on the curb as the blonde slammed the petal to the floor, eyes narrowed, his demeanor almost terrified. His hands worked the shift into higher gears as he built speed, flying around the corners. Finally…freeway. He caught the sight of Schuldich's white teeth flashing in the darkness of the car. His whisper was both of mind and of voice.
"Faster."
Youji's green eyes flicked from speedometer to road…and then to his passenger. Booted foot pressed the accelerator to the carpet of the little car, feeling the frame vibrating slightly. They passed briefly under a street lamp and he caught the fiery red of his captor's head in the light…behind him, road markers blurred by in a frenzy, their small, evenly spaced reflectors almost a single glowing line aside the speeding car. His hands gripped the wheel, knuckles white as he obeyed, body pressed into the back of the seat.
And then he saw something else. Something that was not of road or car…something that was entirely unnatural…
The faint glint of steel in the darkness.

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In the darkness of the street, the remaining members of WeiB saw the gleaming lights of the car as it spun, squealing its protest, out onto the road. And they knew.
Aya let a slow smile creep over his face, and saw Ken's puzzled look. Slowly, quietly, he moved his gleaming blade into a fighter's stance.
"Be ready, WeiB, our quarry comes."

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