Author: Mirrordance

E-mail: mirror_dance@hotmail.com

Title: Via Crucis

Type: series

Warnings: angst, language, yaoi, violence

Spoilers: with references to the entire series

Teaser: Ken is kicked out of White Cross because of Ran…

Keywords: Ran, Ken, Weiß, Schwarz

"Via Crucis"

a WKff by Mirrordance

don't own anybody…

      He came into the room wanting to sit by his bed and watch him breathe.

      Is there any joy in the world simpler than that? Is there any joy in THEIR world that is any harder to keep, being who they were and doing what they did?

      I never counted on this, thought Ran.  Never.

      Ken's chest rose and fell in deep, even breathing.  His lively face was closed and expressionless now, but still lovely and childlike…

      The idea made Ran decide that the thoughts that swirled on his head, about running one finger along that chiseled face, lingering on the laugh-limes on the corners of his eyes, was some perverted fantasy.

      He's a child…

      Maybe, not in age.  But in everything else.  Painfully naïve, hot-headed, impulsive, idealistic Ken.  Omi knows more about the world than you do.

      Ran looked up from his contemplation of Ken, to where Yoji was standing, leaning against the doorframe.  Only a fellow-assassin could have detected that unobtrusive presence.

      "He's… much better," Ran said in a strained voice, looking disoriented, for once in his life as part of Weiß.  The chain of events that had led him here was a goddamn roller coaster.

      If Yoji noticed, and Ran would have bet his hands that the blonde did, he gave no indication of the redhead's present state of confusion.

      "That's good," he said, "Omi's left for school now.  I convinced him Ken was all right.  I thought I lied, but I guess I hadn't"

      Unguarded, Ran grinned slightly at the idea, then smothered it again.  You have a distorted sense of morality, Kudo.  It had been a lie when you said it.  Its truth was only incidental.

      "Go get your rest," said Yoji, "I'll take over"

      "No," said Ran, "I'll stay until…"

      He opens his eyes.  I'll stay until Ken's eyes open and look at me.  And hear what I have to say.  Now get the hell out.

      "I'll stay until I'm satisfied," he amended curtly, turning his back on Yoji.  Yes, that would be what was usually expected of him.

      "Then so will I," Yoji decided, walking over to the window of Ken's messy room, sitting on the ledge and looking out at the morning in the city.

      Ran glared at him, though the blond was oblivious.  It looks like Ken won't hear what he has to say just yet, because of the obtuse audience.

      At last, the eyes opened, a little cloudy but aware, after days of listlessness. 

      "You're still wearing that?" Ken asked, wrinkling his nose.  Ran found it irritating and endearing that the first thing he would notice after all this time, was Ran's mission clothes.

      "Oh, no, wait!" Ken suddenly exclaimed, sitting up straight, "You can't be real!"

      "But we are," teased Yoji, "Ken, you just had your first experience of being pathetically high"
      "Drugs?" Ken asked hoarsely, wondering what the heck he did.  The last thing he remembers was getting caught by the enemy, trying to beat the crap out of them and getting something injected into his arm…

      "Yes," Ran said through gritted teeth, "their idea of sedatives was a goddamn overdose"
      And it very nearly had been a fatal one.  Ran could recall those listless eyes, staring ahead at nothing for hours and hours.  It was followed by a delirium-ridden crash, and Ran didn't know what he preferred between the two.  It was a relief when his eyes had closed at last, as he fell into a deep sleep.

      "They kept you alive," said Yoji, "and demanded to exchange you for the information we stole from them.  Ran and I stalled, kept them distracted as Omi worked on recopying the disk.  We gave them the original and got you back"

      Ken sighed in relief, leaning back against his pillow.  "Good.  I thought the mission failed because of me"
      "Be more fucking careful next time!" seethed Ran, suddenly inexplicably angry.  It was always that way: first, relief, over a fellow's safety, then rage over their carelessness.  He shot to his feet and walked out.

      He came into the room wanting to sit by his bed and watch him breathe… What the hell happened?

      Ken's cheeks were flushed with frustration and embarrassment.  "Yoj, isn't he even SLIGHTLY happy that I'm alive?"
      "You're so self-absorbed," Yoji said with a light laugh, feeling like a hypocrite.  "Think a little, Ken"
      "What do you mean?"

      "Where do you think Omi is?" asked Yoji, putting his hands inside his pockets.

      "School," Ken said at once, "else he'd be in here too, because he always is around, whenever one of us is hurt.  At least ONE OF YOU care, not like some guy we know…"
      "Which means it's gotta be at least Monday, right?" said Yoji, ignoring the side comment, "but the catch is, we did the mission Saturday night.  Two days ago.  And look who's still in his mission clothes?"

      "If he's so happy," Ken said, unwilling to conceded, "then why is he so mad at me? I don't know why he didn't change his clothes, Yoj.  I just know that I woke up and he hated me"

      "He doesn't hate you," Yoji said gently, "He just… never mind"

      It wasn't his to tell…

      "Just what?" Ken persisted.

      "He hates what he would do to keep you safe," said Yoji, heading towards the door, "Take care, Kenken"
      'Kenken' wondered what the hell that had meant.

      Yoji watched Ran work, that morning in the shop.

      He was starting to realize that their lack of communication wasn't completely because the redhead was closed and an introverted son-of-a-bitch.  It's also because the rest of them were dense too, and not particularly used to the man's different reactions.

      Take for example, the Ken-thing.

      Yoji never expected it at all.  And from how the redhead has been acting lately, neither did he.  Omi might have known by now-- the kid was damn perceptive, if anyone within their group was.  As for the object of Ran's affection… well, it might be proper to say Ken was standing in the eye of a storm.

      Calm, unknowing. 

      The eye of the storm, ironically blind…

      Some cheerful whistling announced the arrival of Ken into the shop, and giving some girls he recognized a careless wave, he slipped on his apron and grabbed a sack of fertilizer from the back room.

      "Take it easy," Yoji heard Ran say to him in that flat tone, "you're still recuperating"

      "Well I want to be useful," the stubborn brunette retorted, grunting with the effort of organizing the sacks.  Ran watched with slit eyes.

      "If you want to be useful," the redhead said in a gruff voice, "you can do something else"

      "This is fine," Ken argued, "I'm fine"

      "You hadn't been fine an hour ago!" snapped Ran.

      "That was then, this is now"

      "Don't be so goddamn stubborn," scolded Ran, "you get into so much trouble all the time--"
      "You're one hell of a nagger, Ran--"

      Yoji's eyebrows raised as the argument went louder.  Even the customers were lowering their voices and tuning in.

      I'll let Gracious Leader handle this on his own, Yoji decided as he tactfully closed the door, meeting the ladies' disapproving expressions with a grin.

      "Show's over, kids"

      The door Yoji had closed to protect their privacy hadn't even been noticed.  The very air in the small storage room was cackling with nervous energy for something that shouldn't have been that big a deal, but simply blown out of proportion by issues that piled and piled and eventually spilled over disastrously.

      "I said I'm fine," said Ken impatiently, "it's my decision, it's my body, it's my life"

      "It's MY problem when you get your ass in a fix," snapped Ran, "which you ALWAYS do"

      Ken shoved the sacks down onto the floor.  "You know what? This is getting irritating, Ran.  I happen to be good at what I do"

      Which was, admitted Ran grudgingly, true enough.  It was just that the incidents that imprinted themselves into Ran's tortured memory were the ones when Ken got hurt.  Ran hated how he felt when Ken gets hurt, right from the slightest injury to more serious ones like the one from the last mission.

      Ran closed his eyes in concentration, reined in his temper.  He hates apologizing, so he never does.

      "I hadn't meant it," he amended, "I just want you to be more careful, that's all"

      "Oh, sure," Ken rolled back his eyes, "Of course you didn't meant it.  It's only what I've been hearing from you ever since I woke up!"
      Ran was finding the conversation more than a little bit frustrating.  Ken was so dense.  And he… he was too fearful to let him know.  The two of them were never going to get anywhere.

      How do I tell you I hate it when you get hurt, and that I hate it when I can't protect you, and I hate it when I survive unscathed and you don't, and I hate it when I wait and see if you'll come out of some new injury alive, and I hate it when we split up during missions and I hate it when I have to think about you every time we get out there…

      But all the hatred fell away, unspoken on his thin lips.  The words that came out instead was tinged with regret and accusation.

      "I love you," Ran said.

      Ken's jaw dropped.  It sounded not as a profession, not as an apology, not even as an explanation.  But a complaint.  "I love you" from Ran sounded like a complaint.

      I love you and it's screwing up my life.  I love you and it's all your fault, bastard.

      What was he to say to that?

      "Thank you," Ken said uncertainly, backing towards the door.

      "Wait, don't--" Ran said, raising up a hand to stop him, "Please.  Don't leave.  I've been wanting to say.  I… I don't expect anything of you, in return.  I just… wanted to say"

      "I never thought--"

      "Neither did I," said Ran, sounding resigned and defeated and confused for the first time Ken had ever seen.  Ah, well.  It had to happen some time.

      NOT that he was happy it was THIS time, and that it had been because of HIM.

      "I have to go," Ken said quickly, ducking out of the room and its stifling air, the stifling words hanging in the narrow space.

      The confession hadn't been good for the group at all.

      Ken was continuously uneasy, and this made Ran very edgy.  Meals had been spectacularly quiet, and shifts in the shop were rearranged so Ran and Ken wouldn't have a chance to get in each other's way.  Missions were a pain in the ass, because Ken would not, under any circumstances (even practical ones), be partnered with Ran, who wanted him by his side to make sure he was safe.

      The working atmosphere had been as destructive as the personal one, unavoidably affected.

      It was what Ran had been thinking about, the day after a failed mission, and he had asked Manx to meet him in the park, in private.

      "Fujimiya," she murmured, coming up behind him that cool evening.  Her heels clicked smartly against the pavement.

      "Manx," he said, "I'll get straight to the point"

      She smirked, her eyes telling him that this was no surprise to her; when it came to the impervious redhead, everything that came out of his mouth had been nothing but the point anyway.

      "I want a reassignment," said Ran flatly, "I want out of Weiß"

      Manx, for all of her poker-face training, could not hold back her surprise.  "What? But you've been doing so well, as a group"

      "We've been failing missions--" retorted Ran.

      "Everyone fails once in awhile!" she argued, "It's a totally moot point.  Your groups ratio of loses to wins is impossibly good!"
      "I don't care," said Ran, "I want out.  Make it happen"

      "What's wrong?" she asked, "I can't do anything without a reason, Fujimiya.  You have to tell me something I could take higher-up"

      Ran looked at her coldly.  "I can't work with them anymore.  Things got complicated.  I want out, Manx.  Make it happen"

      It had sounded like half a command, the other half a plea.  She marveled over him.

      "I'll look into it," she said, not promising anything.  She walked away, feeling troubled, and took one last glance at the solitary figure, standing unaffected by the wind, as if he were part of the night.

      The formula of the formation of White Cross had been so perfect.  Each of its men complimented the other, filled in each other's gaps.  It had been a great team, a great formula.  Everyone thought so, and the results they came up with were further proof.

      What had happened?

      Yes, she decided, she will have to look into it.

      The next time Ran heard anything from Manx, it had been when she came into the shop, with an announcement to make.

      She looked grave, and this is said even with the thought of her coming in to relay a particularly difficult mission.  She looked like the definite bearer of bad news.

      "I'll get straight to the point," she said, and in her eyes there had been a dry joke there.  It brought Ran back to that cool evening just a few days ago.  Things hadn't changed in the shop since, and Ran thought it was about time he got results.

      "Ken is getting reassigned," she said.

      Ran's eyes nearly popped out of his head.  "What?!"

      "I don't understand," Ken said plainly, the fire draining from his eyes, from his body.  "What… did I do?"
      "It's not anything you did," said Manx, "it's just the way things work.  You can either go with it, or face the consequences"

      "Some choice," said Ken bitterly, "we know what the consequences are.  The only way I can get myself out of Kritiker is by death.  This had to have been the worst decision I've ever made in my life.  Like, like making a deal with the devil"

      "It pains me to hear you say that," Manx said truthfully.  She hadn't thought to be referred to as the devil.

      Ken set his jaw, looked away, counted to ten in his mind before speaking, calming himself before he explodes.

      "When should I move out?"

      "Ken!" protested Omi, unwilling to give up, "Is this final, Manx?"
      "We don't do anything halfway, Bombay," said Manx, "you should be out of here by the day after tomorrow"

      "What are you going to do if I refuse?" asked Ken, the fire returning in his body, poised as if ready to spring.

      "I'll have to kill you, won't I?"

      Manx left the basement, feeling like a villain.  But it had to have been done.  This is how it works.  You fix a problem before it gets worse.  And Hidaka had been the problem.

      Ran caught up to her, grabbing her elbow and pulling her to a corner of the emptied, ground-level shop. 

      "What the hell have you done?" he growled.

      "It hadn't been up to me," she said, "you asked for a reassignment, I brought it to a committee.  The committee decided we needed more reason, then, say, a redheaded mood.  So, we had people go into the shop, discreetly looking into you…"

      Ran wasn't surprised that Weiß, for all their training, hadn't noticed spies.  Kritiker had to have used the best, and they couldn't have been assigned to that if they were obvious or sloppy.

      "We found," she continued, "that you and Ken not only had a telling argument the days before, but that you were not able to put things behind you.  The shifts were rearranged, and undoubtedly, the breakdown during missions"

      "Why him?" spat Ran, "I asked for the reassignment.  He doesn't want this.  Did you see his face, Manx? You just killed him anyway"

      "It's not up to me," Manx reiterated, "They like how you work.  They didn't want to pull you out of Weiß, especially as a leader.  It isn't done.  So we got rid of your problem"

      "He is not my problem!" seethed Ran, I'm his.

      "Well, it's done, either way," she said with finality, heading towards the door.

      "Manx, please," Ran said, the desperation alien to him.  "Please.  Don't do this to him.  If he is the one who has to go, then never mind.  I'll just stay.  Everyone will just stay--"

      "Kritiker does not waste its valuable time in investigating this only to be back in square one," she said, eyes shifting from side to side as if she herself was starting to believe, and wanted to get out of there before she got convinced.

      "Manx…"

      "I'll see you soon, Abyssinian"

      It was later that night, that Ran decided to face up to the situation that he, unintentionally, had become the cause of.

      He had stood alone in the dark, empty shop for a time that he couldn't count, didn't care to.  Finally, making some weird decision on his mind, he strolled down to the basement to find it empty as well.  Seeking Ken out, he headed to the apartments, and stopped by the soccer player's door, thinking.

      He felt ashamed.  It couldn't have been completely his fault and yet… it had happened because of him.

      He raised his fist and knocked.  "I know you're awake"

      Pause.

      "Then you also probably know I want to be alone!" came the retort from inside the room.

      "Let me in"

      --

      "I'll break the door down"

      --

      "I mean it"

      --

      But he didn't, not really.  What he did instead was to pick it open.  He turned the knob and pushed the door open.  He found Ken in the middle of his sleeping area, arms crossed over his chest and looking at him in absolute dismay.

      "Anyone ever told you you're an asshole?"
      You don't know the half of it, Ran thought miserably.

      "What do you want?" Ken asked in resignation, sitting on his bed and looking at Ran defeated, "I don't need anything from you right now"

      "I wanted to say…" Ran hated this word, he really, really did, "I wanted to say I'm sorry"
      "Yeah, well," Ken said, closing his eyes and breathing, "shit happens, right? Isn't that what they always say?"

      "No," Ran amended, "I mean I'm sorry, because this is all my fault"

      Ken's eyes snapped open.  "What do you mean?"

      Ran started to pace, rubbing his eyes tiredly over his face.  "It had been me.  I asked for a reassignment.  I wanted to get out of here.  Nothing had been the same after… after… Nothing had been the same.  I had to leave.  Things would have been better if we were away from each other.  It was all I could do to right it.  I told them to take ME out, not you.  Never you"
      Ran could see the words rising within Ken, from the way his chest expanded, from the rage, the HATE in his eyes.

      "Never me? NEVER ME?" he demanded, "You don't think, Ran! Or maybe you DO think and you did all of this on purpose.  And for what? Because I couldn't… couldn't… love you back? You fucking bastard, why would they remove YOU, the great leader? Why would they remove you, where would they find another cold, perfect killer? Of course, between us they'd get rid of me.  The clumsy one, the scatter-brained one.  They'd never get rid of you!"
      The words were fast, bitter.  The tears had been angry and almost completely without grief.

      "But it's done," Ken said, trying to catch his breath, "You're a fucking bastard, but its been done.  I'll leave, Ran.  I'll leave peacefully.  Because if I didn't, you'll fight them back.  Or wait.  I don't know about you but I'm sure Yoji and Omi will.  And if you fight Kritiker, you'll only lose.  And get hurt.  I don't want to see people I care about get hurt, Ran, unlike some people…"

      You're better at it than you think you are…

      "But you…" said Ken with finality, "you've taken away everything that I had left.  You… you I'll always hate.  Always, and completely."

_______

      It had been a week since Ken left, not saying where he had gone and not bothering to visit, which as Manx said, he was allowed to do.  It was apparent that he didn't want to be found just yet.  Manx confirmed this when Omi had asked if she could tell them where Ken was.  She said that he would contact them if he wanted, wouldn't he?

      That was the day they've been given a new mission.

      Their first mission without Siberian.

      They went through the usual procedures, not really as physically handicapped by the loss of one of their own as they were spiritually.

      Nevertheless, late one night they headed out of their prey… only to find his building viciously torn apart, with bodies of bodyguards in every corner, and the target himself practically in pieces in his office.

      Standing amidst the carnage there, was Siberian.

      His eyes glowed in the darkness.  He looked like a demon in the night.  Not merely part of it, as all of Weiß had learned to be, but… its master.

      "Ken!" Omi whispered, but stopped short of running towards him when he saw that Ken made no move, but just stared at them.

      "What are you doing here?" asked Yoji, awed.

      Ken answered in a low voice, "I'm good at what I do.  As a matter of fact, I'm downright perfect.  They had no right to move me.  YOU had no right.  But I let them, and I let you.  But just so you know, I'm good at what I do"
      "We've always known--" Omi said, but cut himself off, seeing that Ken's attention had been focused on Ran's unflinching gaze.

      "Just so you know," Ken said, moving past them and vanishing into the night. 

      None dared follow.

      "What's going on?" Omi asked Ran.  He had been dying to ask this past few days, but bided his time.  He could resist no longer.

      But Ran dared not answer.

-One year later-

      His name was Ian.  He had the blackest hair anyone could ever see on any head, sleek and shiny.  But it was recklessly cut by his own hands, in shaggy, short and uneven waves that framed his face at times, or held up in a uselessly loose ponytail as it was now, when he worked.

      His eyes were a sharp, cunning silver-gray.  Sometimes wary, but mostly intelligent and humorous.  The laugh-lines crinkling on the corners of his eyes reminded Ran of the ones Ken had…

      He was undoubtedly handsome.  It would have been a major self-esteem-low for any man to be assigned in White Cross and not be.  But Ian, at nineteen, was also skilled.  The weapon of choice were sleek spikes dipped in his own special brand of poison.  He seemed a combination of some part of all of them; Omi's brains, Ran's agility, Yoji's flair, Ken's compassion… and, Ran supposed, he was likeable enough (not to mention the fact that he held up a decent flower arrangement).

      But he was, to put it plainly, Ken's replacement.  That had been points against him from the start.  It took him, Yoji and Omi months to trust him, and even then just grudgingly, out of respect and necessity.

      You have big shoes to fill…

      He certainly had the ladies' votes, though. 

      They were laughing over a magic trick he was doing on one of them, making a hyacinth seemingly vanish into thin air, then retrieving it from behind someone's ear.

      "Hyacinths," he said with a certain amount of reverence, being his favorite bloom, "are a stubborn lot.  A certain breed can grow in water or mud.  Others yet can grow even in the coldest winter…"

      Not that the girls cared, really, except when he gave the hyacinth to one of them, on the house.

      That was when Manx stepped into the shop, and one by one, each of White Cross made their respective, well-oiled exits, to go down into the basement and down into a whole different world, a whole different life.

      "The group is called Allwißend," said Manx, before putting on the requisite tape, "much like your own White Cross, but working more on the Intelligence and Reconnaissance side of Kritiker, than the actual assassination teams.  They were sent on a mission a week ago, but none of them have returned… living or dead," she emphasized.

      "Normally," she continued, "when our agents get caught we detach ourselves from them.  You, of course, are aware of the risks entailed by being in this business.  But… neither bodies nor demands have turned up.  If someone is plucking our agents from the face of the Earth… or, if they have decided to switch loyalties, we make it our business to know"

      She slipped the tape into the VCR player and let it say the rest.  Basically, she had said everything that was vital.  The tape just further explained where the members were last seen, and what mission it was they have been working on…

      The first bombshell was that Schwarz was back.  They were the ones who were to be investigated by the five-man team.

      The second bombshell was that, among the missing members of Allwissend, was their very own Ken Hidaka.

      Undoubtedly, Mission Accepted.

      Ian knew of very little about Siberian.

      Only that he had been given the soccer player's old room.  Only that Weiß itself disliked him for being… a replacement.  Only that the kids felt the same, even without knowing the circumstances in which Ken had left.  But there were more questions that he wanted answered, none of which was forthcoming.

      If they liked him so much, if he did such a good job, why would he be taken out?

      He strolled up the steps towards the apartments alongside Yoji, who was thoughtfully silent.

      "Who was he?" Ian blurted at last, hoping to catch the older man off-guard enough to answer.

      But Yoji was never off-guard.  Especially not in the middle of a crisis. 

      "He was a teammate," he said, "a co-worker, and best of all, a friend to all of us"

      "Why'd he leave?" asked Ian.

      Yoji considered.  "Kritiker reassigned him, for reasons that I may guess at, but never be sure of"

      "Are you like, not allowed to see each other when someone gets reassigned?" asked Ian.

      "Sure we are," said Yoji, "it's just that maybe he didn't want to see us"

      "Why wouldn't he?"
      "Listen," Yoji said patiently, "I'm not in the mood for this.  Now is not the time--"
      "It's never the time to ask about him," retorted Ian, "I thought he had died in the line of duty or something like that, not until I started bringing the pieces together.  It's like arranging a jigsaw puzzle of one million pieces, with half missing"

      Yoji almost smiled.  Yes, he was like Ken.  But NOT him.  It wouldn't ever be the same…

      "Go to sleep, Ian," Yoji said tiredly, "we work on this tomorrow"

      It was like some orchestrated macabre dance.

      Suddenly, things just start to come together, hideously coordinated and brutally precise.

      One body turned up.

      It was found in a lake.  With wrists slit.  Cleanly, smoothly and precise, from an excellent knife.   

      It had been all over the news. 

      But why take your own life? And where were the others?

      More specifically, where was Ken?

      Another day, another body.

      This time, the man died of asphyxiation.  He was found hanging from tensile wires, so much like Yoji's that it was disturbing.

      By the time a third one came out, Weiß was getting not only anxious, but fearful at the thought that at anytime, they could very well be looking into the dead face of a man who had been their friend.

      The third man died from a well-placed dart to the neck.

      Like Omi's dart. 

      The connection was made impossible to miss.

      Someone was killing them off one by one, using Weiß weapons.

      The group gathered in the basement, mulling it over.

      "Why would anyone want to do that?" murmured Yoji. 

      "Schwarz could be behind this," said Omi, "they have reason enough to hate us.  And surely, anger towards Weiß must be what motivates this"

      "The bodies started to come one after the other," said Ian, "the next one would be tonight.  The question is… where? If we find out how, I think we'll find out where"
      "What do you mean?" asked Omi.

      "My weapon is the last one," said Ian, "My weapon hasn't been used just yet.  There are very few places in the world anyone can find the poison that I use.  That is… if they are precise and accurate.  And I think they are"

      "Where?" Ran asked, curt and business-like.  If they could save Ken…

      Ian used to do menial work for Delta Pharmaceuticals, a huge cover-up for a multibillion bioterrorism organization.  He caught Kritiker's eye because he had helped bring down the group almost single-handedly.

      But if there was something he picked up from his old superiors, it had to be creating 'designer' poisons.

      At the eve of a raid Ian knew about, he made sure he concealed his own creations from being used by anyone other than himself-- he learned firsthand the cruelty in the world, and that you could trust no one.  It was found in an underground storage underneath a now-empty warehouse in the now-barren compound.

      White Cross headed there that night, hoping to catch a burglar stealing a poison to become a murderer.

      They hadn't counted on finding… him.

      Weiß sneaked into the warehouse, immediately feeling they were watched, no matter how discreet they were.

      It was a frustrating feeling.  As if you were… hunted.

      Suddenly, all the lights turned on, and the found themselves in a wide, high-ceilinged space, face to face with Schwarz and their new member.

      His hair was still the same chestnut, still relatively short, but was longer than it had ever been, their tips teasing the black collar of his shirt.  He was wearing all-black, now.  A fine pair of pants, boots, and a bullet-proof vest blatantly over his long-sleeved black shirt.  He looked downright sleek, with the flecks of silver here and there, where his numerous weapons were concealed close to his body.  He seemed leaner, tougher… lonelier, angrier.

      The initial feeling for the three members of Weiß who had known him, was that he was a victim.  But Ian, with his unbiased, stranger's eye, knew that he wasn't.

      "Schwarz, let him go!" demanded Ran, dropping to a ready stance.  The German laughed at their confusion.

      "No…" Ian said, risking fingers from the edgy leader by putting a calming hand to his shoulder.  "It isn't what you think"

      "He's right," Ken said coldly, "stop being a hypocrite, Fujimiya.  What? Worried about me? I don't think so.  Worry about yourself"

      "We wanted to bring down Kritiker," said Schuldich gleefully, "Guess who was only too glad to help?"

      "No," mouthed Omi, looking at Ken with alarm, disbelief, pain.

      "What have you done with him?" Yoji demanded, thinking maybe Schwarz had done something to control Ken's mind… it couldn't possibly be beyond them, both morally and physically.

      "Sadly," Ken said, "nothing I didn't do to myself"

      "We only had to play with the little demons already in his head," said Crawford, "so much easier with his full cooperation.  It's an interesting collaboration"
      Silence.

      What was there to say?
      Ran's mind whirred with how he had dared imagine this reunion to be.  Certainly nothing like this.  He hoped that after a year, Ken would have already forgiven him.  He hoped that after a year, he would come to be accepted at last…

      Who was the damn fool who said time healed all wounds? The deepest ones became scars and scars you never lose.  They only serve to make you uglier and more regretful…

      "You killed your own teammates," said Ran flatly.

      Ken shrugged.  "It hadn't been as hard as I thought it would be.  Don't look so mad.  Teammates betray each other all the time.  I got kicked out of my group.  And when the new guy comes along, they take him in real easy.  It's funny how quickly people change…"

      "This can't be you…" Omi said shakily.

      Ken glanced at him, then looked away.  His guilt seemed strongest with the younger one.  Schwarz saw it plainly, and decided to take that part at least into their own hands.

      "There's one more member of Allwißend missing," teased Schuldich, "Where, where, where could he be?"
      With that, he left in a run, with Nagi and Crawford on his heels. 

      "Go!" ordered Ran to Omi and Yoji, who hesitated for a moment but followed their enemies into wherever they would be led.  Ken and Farfello… they held their ground as Ian and Ran did, in a stalemate.

      "Why don't you leave?" Ken asked the Irishman bluntly.

      "I want to see you mad like this," Farfello said, "It's fun.  Almost funner than if Crawford would let me poke you with this and lick your blood off--"

      "I've been dreaming of this for a year," said Ken coldly, "You'd better scat.  You're ruining the moment"
      Farfello looked dejected for a brief moment, then his eyes lit up at the thought that maybe they'd let him poke that little one instead… he vanished at a run, leaving Ken standing calmly in front of a man who had been his friend, and the stranger whom he considered to have taken over what little there had been of his life.

      "Anger," he said, "only gets better with time.  You understand that, don't you, Ran? When the rage vanishes, it gets replaced by this delicious, delicious desire for vengeance.  That's when all the plans start to come, all the calculations.  I've had a year to plan mine"

      "Don't do this," Ran said, both edgy and pleading.  Ian felt misplaced, not knowing what to do.

      "You even know what it had been like for me?" Ken's voice started to raise, "hell, Ran.  Hell.  It's one more betrayal too many.  Kase, then you.  I've given friendship and I keep getting betrayal in return.  Drives a poor guy crazy"

      "Please…"
      "I want to kill you, Ran," said Ken bluntly, "I want to do it so bad that I ache with it.  Now, raise that weapon and indulge me"
      "I won't fight you," Ran said, tossing his weapon away from him.

      "Are you crazy?" demanded Ian, his fingers clutching his own weapons, itching to fire.

      "Stay out of this," Ran said curtly.

      "You won't fight?" asked Ken.

      "No"

      "Then you'll die where you stand"

      --

      "I warn you," said Ken, drawing out two short knives, "I'm much better than I used to be.  At everything.  Hatred… it's potent.  Fabulous motivation.  Keeps me alive.

      "But," he said, tossing the knives away, as well as various other weaponry, "let's make this interesting.  I'll kill you the way I had been"

      He clenched his gloved hands and claws snapped from his knuckles smartly. 

      "I'm coming atcha!" he said, pushing himself off the ground, heading towards Ran.

      Ian watched, horrified, as the events unfolded in front of him.

      "Fight, Ran!" he begged, aiming with his spikes.  He didn't want to kill Siberian.  It was painfully apparent that even broken and evil, Weiß considered him as one of their own.  What would he come home to if he had killed their lost brother?  But this… this was crazy…

      He unleashed the spikes, making their smooth, lethal way to their target.  But Ken avoided them cleanly; yes, he had become better.  He raised his bugnuks towards Ran's body, standing rigidly.

      But, to Ian's amazement, Ran uttered three magical words that made Ken hesitate.  His momentum had been too much, that even as he pulled himself back, he struck Ran with enough force to break through his flesh and send him falling backwards toward the floor in a platter of red.

      "No!" Ian yelled, rushing forward to catch the fallen leader, whose eyes had already lost their focus as he drifted towards shock.  The labored breathing was telling, but at least he was alive… and if Ian had his way, would be made to stay that way.

      "Shit," muttered Ken, catching his breath about a yard away.  "Fucking bastard.  He shouldn't do that to people.  It's unfair."

      I love you, Ran had said.  It's so much easier to kill people who curse you on their way.  So, so much easier.  At least that, you deserved.  Ken felt he no longer deserved love.  He had long since been ruined for that.

      Ken stepped towards the redhead's body, struggling for life.  And the man, who was a year younger than himself, trying desperately to keep him.

      Ian looked up at Ken, accusation and anger in his eyes.  "They wanted you back so badly.  I had to sift through the shit you had left behind.  They wouldn't have me.  They wanted you.  And here you are… what the hell have you done?!"

      "Don't be such a prick," spat Ken. 

      "I'd give so much to have what they would so wholeheartedly give you," said Ian, "And you're throwing it back in their faces! He loved you… how could you do this?"
      "He didn't love me! You aren't supposed to get rid of the ones you love!" retorted Ken.

      "You have," pointed out Ian bravely.

      "What?!"
      "You love him back," said Ian, "or you wouldn't be this mad.  Or you wouldn't have hesitated killing him"

      "That's a crock of shit"

      "It's easier to hate someone you've loved," said Ian, "when they disappoint you.  It's irrational, but it's true.  Hate and love are very nearly the same"

      "I don't care about him anymore," Ken said stubbornly, "He took away everything, every little thing that I had left"

      "That's a nice lie you've been telling yourself"

      "I don't lie"

      And you said you'd kill him, but you didn't.  And you said you don't care, and yet here you are, looking to see if he were alive, not doing anything to alter it.

      "Yes, you do"

      "It's a lie until you hear what you want to hear, isn't it?" snapped Ken.

      Ian looked up at him defiantly, saying nothing.

      Ken looked down at Ran disgustedly, then muttered a curse before turning his back on them and just… walked away.

      It's always been said, that there was a thin line between love and hate.

      He knew now what that had meant, though he still couldn't understand where he stood, at this moment.

      Hate? That was yesterday.  Love? That would be… too quick to say.  It would be suffice to say he was standing on the line itself.  The most dangerous part, surely, precariously balanced.

      All these months he's been thinking of his revenge, anger only aggravated by time.  And when he had his chance, he blew it.  All because of a rookie with a quick brain and a sharp mouth.

      Ken had walked away from them, feeling inexplicably relieved that the redhead was alive and taken care of by someone.  What was that about?

      His confusion was genuine and painful.  He has long since decided that he had probably lost his mind already, but why were these rational, compassionate thoughts starting to flood over him again, threatening to drown him in guilt and regret?

      He had come from a place thinking that you don't kill your friends.  Yet he had killed Kase, then Allwissend, then tried with Weiss.  But then again he had also been thinking that they aren't supposed to betray you.  And he had been wrong.

      He headed for the lot where Crawford's car was parked, and where the rest of Schwarz, his new team, stood.

      They all boarded the car and zoomed away.

      No one bothered to ask each other if their respective enemies had been successfully terminated.

      There were things always better left unknown.

_______

      Ran opened his eyes to his own room, the pain in his chest a reminder that he was still alive.

      The sight of Ian, sitting on the ledge of his window with his silver eyes lonely, gave him a feeling of guilt.

      Yes, he hadn't been treated very well around here, the outsider.  He deserved more.  And he deserved answers.

      But first…

      "The others?" Ran grunted, first and foremost concerned with the safety of the team he had felt a distinct responsibility for.

      "They're fine," said Ian, walking over and sitting by his bed.  "You scared the shit out of me"
      "And Schwarz?" Ran asked flatly, thinking, Ken is Schwarz now.  Did you kill Ken?

      "Alive," said Ian, reading his mind, "all of them"

      Ran fell silent for an infinite moment fingering the bandages on his chest, "He stopped short, didn't he?"

      "Yes," said Ian, "he did"
      "Well."

      Well indeed.

      "The last member of Allwissend had been found," said Ian, "We were too late"
      Ran closed his eyes, tired and regretful.  "How could he… this is all my fault…"
      "He did it to himself," Ian said bitterly, heading out the door.  He still couldn't understand any of these people.

      Manx came by later that day, her steps quick and business-like, though betrayed her inner turmoil by pacing around the basement.  She brought no tape this time-- and, even without having to come, it was apparent anyway what orders she would give.

      "Hidaka is the one behind this," she concluded, "And I want Weiß completely out of the picture.  Surely you understand why his termination would not be assigned to you"

      "Manx," said Yoji, "they had to have done something to him.  He couldn't just… we were friends.  We've been through a lot.  He couldn't be…"
      "Kritiker sees in black and white, Balinese," Manx said coolly, "the evidence is clear.  That is all that counts.  Siberian, as a traitor, will have a traitor's death"

      "There must be some other way," argued Omi, looking at Ran for some reassurance, but the redhead remained poker-faced.

      "Bad things happen to good people, Omi," Manx said mildly, "Maybe he just isn't who he used to be…" she cleared her throat uneasily, shifting the subject, "What I came here to ask of you, not order, but to ask, as… a friend, if you would consider me as such, is for you NOT to interfere in the process"

      "Well that's a lot to ask, isn't it?" said Yoji crossly, "you want us to just sit around, right? Wait it out.  Pretend it didn't happen, because he hadn't died by our hands? That's ridiculous.  And it's too late for us not to be involved"
      Ran held his ground, said nothing.  Ian noticed that the people in the room kept glancing pointedly his way, as if waiting for him to say something and yet... he remained silent.

      "What do you think?" prodded Yoji.

      "I think," said Ran at last, "we have been given a mission.  And the mission is not yet accomplished.  This is still ours.  Anything involving Allwissend is still ours"

      "Precisely," said Yoji with an approving nod, "We'll get him back, Manx.  We'll straighten him out and get the real culprit"

      "The orders have changed," snapped Manx, "Hidaka is to be terminated.  If he is doing this of his own will, then we kill him.  If he doesn't, it proves he can be manipulated and is still justification enough to eliminate him.  I want you out of this, Weiß, better to kill one traitor than… five"
      Ian smirked at his sudden inclusion.  Well, he hadn't counted on… being counted.

      "Change the orders again," Ran demanded in that flat tone, "Weiß wants this job.  Whether or not it is to get him back or kill him, we take care of our own"

      "Kill him?" whispered Omi, "Ran, what are you saying?"
      "At least by my hands," said Ran quietly, "I'll know for sure that he dies fast, and with honor"

      Manx looked at him skeptically, "You won't fight him, Fujimiya.  We both know that.  If you wouldn't fight him just yesterday, you wouldn't fight him afterwards"

      "I did fight him," lied Ran, "I just lost"
      "Forgive me if I don't believe you," Manx said smoothly, looking at Ian.  "You were there"
      Oh, what a shitty place to stand.

      "Yes, I was," Ian growled.

      "And?"
      "And what?"
      "Did he or did he not fight?"

      Ian made a quick decision.  "Yes, he did fight.  And obviously, he lost.  This Siberian guy is real good"

      Manx seemed to believe him, and sighed as she too, came to a decision.  "Fine.  The mission is yours.  Kill Siberian.  If it's not done in a week, or if anyone else gets hurt before you act, the mission belongs to someone else.  Or my ass is on the line.  Clear?"
      "Crystal," Ran confirmed.

      No one spoke until Manx went up the stairs and her steps faded as she walked away.

      "Is this some kind of a sick perversion?" demanded Yoji, "kill Ken? Kill Ken? It feels vile enough in my mouth and you think you could actually do it? YOU? And HIM of all people! You've lost your mind!"
      "You heard her," Ran said softly, "Bad things happen to good people.  If he pushes our hand, then it will be done.  Because it has to be.  That's all"
      "Isn't this a change of perspective from last night?" growled Yoji, "You'd let him shred you before you put up a fight!"
      "That was different," said Ran.

      "Oh? How?"
      "I don't need to explain myself to you--"

      "Fuck, just say it, Ran!" urged Yoji, "If I have to kill one of my friends then I should at least have a fragment of the answers!"
      "I had to see," said Ran, "if there was still a part of him in there.  A part of Ken, the one we knew"
      "And there is, isn't there?" asked Omi.

      "Yes," said Ran vehemently, "Yes, there is"

      Silence.  It made Ian uneasy.  Ran looked at him for an infinite moment, silver eyes trying not to flinch in the assault of violet lasers.

      "Thank you," Ran said simply.

      "Just don't screw this up," Ian said, tearing his eyes away, looking down at his shoes to hide scarlet cheeks.

      Omi sat in front of his computer, stared at the screen but saw nothing.  The implications of the action both Weiß and Manx had decided to take was dawning on him, and none of them were good.

      Somehow he couldn't force himself to think of Ken as dead, by his own hands less so.  He couldn't bring the man he had met yesterday and the clumsy one in the shop together.  They just couldn't be the same…

      "Yoji," Omi said quietly, not really hearing but more of feeling the man who stood by his apartment door, looking at him thoughtfully.

      "You should get some sleep," the blond said, stepping inside and looking at the monitor.  A screensaver was playing, and he wasn't surprised that Omi hadn't been very productive.

      "It's Ken," said Omi, "It's Ken.  How could we ever do it?"
      "Think of it this way," Yoji said, "Ken understands what all this is about.  If people turn on you, it doesn't matter who they are.  This mission belongs to Weiß.  Weiß don't fail.  Or maybe sometimes.  But we never quit.  He knows that.  He understands it"

      "Good," Omi said with a short laugh, "At least someone does.  Because I sure don't."

      The first step was to find out where they were hiding and tear the place apart.

      But Schwarz, if they were anything, they were sharp.  Discreet and very, very wily. 

      White Cross always thought that they would be the one to search, then act.  They hadn't counted on their enemies coming to them.

      They took Ian on his way home from university.  It had been a late class for advanced students; he was a smart, quick boy already earning a degree in an age that should have made him a sophomore instead.

      He strolled towards his old, reliable car, but a sudden onslaught of energy bursting in his head had him thrown forward, sending him crumpling to his knees and heading straight for the pavement.  But strong arms caught him as he fell, efficiently throwing him over pale shoulders to carry him out-- is there really skin that white?-- he wondered uselessly as he blacked out.

      Ken slapped at Farfello's hand, once they started to drift over the new Weiß member's fine, chiseled face.  It had been strange at the start, but the longer he stayed with Schwarz the more comical it got.  And tedious.  It was like having a naughty little brother, and Ken knew how to handle children.

      The five members of Schwarz, as well as the kidnapped member of White Cross were crammed un-stylishly in Crawford's car, heading towards their base-- a long-abandoned Takatori hunting cabin.

      Before joining Schwarz, the last time Ken had been here was when Omi stopped Weiß from killing his brother…

      The car pulled over to a stop.

      "We make them come to us," said Schuldich, genuinely looking forward to a huge confrontation.

      There were no pay-offs this time.  Not even world domination was motivation enough.  For Ken it was revenge.  For Schwarz… the same could be said.  How could ordinary men defeat them? It was unthinkable.

      The final confrontation would be tonight, at the latest.

      It will all be over soon.

      Whoever wins.

      One way or another.

      They cut his hair for him.

      Ran held the uneven strands on his ivory fingers.  They were as smooth as he thought they might be.  Blackest black, shiny.  There was some blood on the tips; Ran didn't know where they had come from, nor did he want to think about it too much.

      An address was scrawled with a note.  It wasn't very far.  It was a place they all knew.

      With any luck, he, Omi and Yoji would be coming home tonight, not merely alive, but with Ken and Ian back with them.

      "You might have hit him too hard," Crawford told Schuldich, looking at the dark-haired youth lying on the hard ground before them, looking like a rag doll.  He was breathing evenly enough, but there was blood coming out of his ears.

      "He's fine," insisted Schuldich, looking at Crawford thoughtfully, "what's going to happen tonight?"
      Ken looked up from where he was tying together Ian's wrists, curious about what the Oracle had to say.

      He seemed edgy, nervous.  "There are many traitors in my vision"

      "You'd think there were enough of them in the world," said Ken, troubled.  Pause.  Wait.  "Is it me?" he asked bluntly.

      "If it is," said Crawford, "Just remember.  We took you in.  That's all"

      "It's too bad," Schuldich said, sounding unconcerned, "we can't get inside that head of yours no more.  You're too good at hiding now"

      "Well I learned some things from being around you," Ken said, tying the final knot with a flourish.  "But anyway, you could just about trust me as much as I trusted you the first time I got into this deal, right?"
      "Right," agreed Crawford wryly.

      "Ready?" Ken asked.

      "We'll make sure everything is peachy when they arrive," said Schuldich, heading for the door, trailed by Farfello and Nagi.

      "No traps," Ken reminded, "We're in this for a decent fight, don't forget it, okay?"
      "If I didn't know better," sneered Schuldich, "I'd think you still had a soft spot for your ex-buddies"
      "Yeah, yeah," Ken said, disregarding the comment with a wave of his hand.  Being with them now… it was almost hard to believe he had once been daunted by them.

      Crawford lingered by the door of the room.  "Don't forget what I told you"
      "Don't get all weird on me," Ken said nervously.  Was the pre-cog saying Ken might betray them? What the hell was he? A traitor three times over?  That's the worst possible kind.

      "I mean it," said Crawford, "I can't know everything.  But if you turn on us, it's another betrayal, isn't it?"
      "You should know by now," Ken said with slit eyes, "that the morality angle doesn't work on me anymore.  I'll do what I have to, to get what I want"
      "Right now we want the same things," said Crawford, "satisfaction.  That could change when they arrive"

      "We'll get what we want," Ken assured him, even as he hesitated inside.  His uncertainty only grew as Crawford stepped out of the room and Ian started to awaken.

      He groaned, muttering about a hangover.

      "Be glad you're alive," Ken said, feeling somewhat obliged to give a few… ah… opening remarks.

      "You…" Ian said with contempt, trying to sit up and only struggling.  He reddened with embarrassment when Ken helped him.  "Well isn't this humiliating?"
      "Take it easy," Ken advised, smoldering a laugh, "You'll be okay soon enough.  Or dead.  Either way, the pain'll be gone soon"

      "So what am I?" asked Ian, "bait? How embarrassing"
      "Yes"
      "They won't come for me"
      "Oh ye of little faith"
      "They don't like me very much back there," pointed out Ian, "I told you it was you they wanted.  All the time.  Everytime they looked at me or when I did something I could hear the comparison going on in their heads, see it in their eyes.  As if it were MY fault.  You are all so self-obsessed"
      "They'll come," guaranteed Ken.  They'll come because they always did.  For strangers, for each other.  Even for noisy, intolerable punks like you.

      "You shouldn't do this…" Ian said, putting up the immortal argument, "they care about you still…"

      "I got kicked out by a big-ass organization," said Ken bitterly, "I got replaced too.  You know what they did to me in that group I joined afterwards? They hated the hell out of me. 

      "I replaced a dead guy," Ken said, "they hated me for that.  They kicked me around, made me do the shitty stuff and left me for dead once, twice, I lost count in the span of a year.  Don't look so alarmed.  Kritiker has it's own share of bastards.  They just care about results.  It wasn't that big a deal killing them after a year of putting up with that crap"

      "It's not White Cross' fault…" Ian said.

      "Maybe not directly," said Ken, eyes blazing, "But I was brought there, one way or another, by their hands.  By Kritiker's.  I'll finish Kritiker.  I'll bring them all down.  I'll just start where it's sweeter"

      "You're crazy…"

      "Hell yeah," said Ken, "I'll finish what I set out to do tonight.  They'll die.  So will you.  Or I'll die.  But it all ends tonight" 

      It was easy enough to get inside.

      It wasn't as if they weren't welcome here.

      All the lights were on, an almost welcoming sight.  The doors hadn't been locked and yet, White Cross felt somewhat compelled to pretend this wasn't entirely so easy.

      As always, they went for the discreet entrances, though they pretty much ended up in the same place anyway.  A living room with a high ceiling, where their enemies eagerly awaited them.

      "We got your stray cat," said Schuldich, holding up a bleary-looking Ian by the back of his shirt.  He sagged towards the floor.

      "Let him go," said Yoji, "This isn't his war"
      "It became his war when he became Weiß," declared Ken, "It does ruin a lot of lives, doesn't it?"
      "Just let him go," pleaded Omi, "Ken.  This isn't you…"

      "Enough of that," Ken said with finality, grabbing Ian from Farfello and tossing him to Weiß, to be caught by Yoji.

      "Ouch," said Ian with a flinch.

      "You okay?" Yoji murmured.

      "I just said the understatement of the year," Ian drawled, "what do you think? I know what I thought.  I thought you wouldn't come"
      "You're not that bad," Yoji said with a quick grin.

      "You're late.  But I'm glad you came"
      "So am I"

      "He says he'll finish you tonight," Ian said worriedly, "Or you'll finish him.  But it will end"
      "As long as it ends," murmured Yoji, "I don't think I give a shit anymore"

      Ken watched with narrowed eyes as Yoji helped a feebly protesting Ian to a corner of the room, to regain his equilibrium.  It irked him.  He wanted to be him.

      "Is there any proper way to do this?" Ken asked irritably, "or do we just dive in and kill each other?"

      Silence.

      "Let's dive in," he declared, drawing out twin daggers from whatever pocket of his dark clothes and headed straight for Ran, who countered his attacks with a grunt.

      To Ken, the world was centered in this battle.  None else mattered, though dimly, he watched from the corner of his eye as Crawford looked on despondently (disappointed, because he had wanted to square-off with the redhead), and Schuldich, Nagi and Farfello set their sights on Omi and Yoji.  Ian wasn't fair game yet.

      "You seem to have changed your mind," Ken said evenly, as he countered Ran's vicious attacks.

      "You can end this," urged Ran, "Please…"
      "It's taken me too far already"

      "What's taken you too far?"

      "My mind," Ken replied, not liking this line of conversation, "I can't go back.  I'll only hate what I've done"
      "Guilt is fine.  It's more human than this"

      "I don't like being human.  No more talking, just fight"

      They fell into a silence as they fought.  But the mind wasn't as easy to turn off as the mouth.

      Part of Ken's mind screamed that he didn't know what the hell it was he was doing.  Another part said it didn't matter anymore, you can't go back.  Another part said it wasn't too late, at least not for his soul…

      "Aaaaaargh!" Ken yelled, thrusting carelessly at Ran, as if the move could assail his thoughts instead.  "I hate you!"

      Ran sidestepped it easily.  Ken was losing his focus, he noticed.  Getting sloppy as his memories tormented him.

      Ken fought blindly.  At this point, it seemed that it was only by Ran's charity that he was still even alive at all. 

      His mind raced, refusing to believe that he was losing.  Not merely the fight outside, but the fight within his mind.  What are you doing? This is Ran…

      The last time they fought for real was when Ran had just been 'welcomed' into the group.  Afterwards they spent time looking after each other's backs, watching over a shop drowning with girls, going deaf together with their endless chatter, eating together, going out…

      But Ran disregarded all that.  He sold me out…

      It didn't even sound convincing anymore.  What was he doing?

      Ian got to his feet at last, queasy but hated being a spectator.  He didn't have much weapons now, but there were always some magical things hidden here and there.

      There were ten, tiny poisoned spikes in each of his shoes.  Hazardous as hell, but it's a living.  He'd make damn good use of them.

      He caught Crawford's eye.  The pre-cog actually grinned at his predicament.

      "You okay?" he asked, eyes alight as he walked over menacingly.

      "A bit busted," Ian admitted, "but you know.  I'm resigned now.  It's a cutthroat business"

      It seemed like yesterday the last time he was pinned to a wall like this, by a blast of energy from a deceptively-nice-looking kid.  Anytime this happens to him again is one more time too much, too soon.

      "Omi!" Yoji yelled, deftly ducking a well-coordinated set of blows from Schuldich and Farfello.  The younger man was pressed against the wall.

      His moment of distraction had been a grave mistake.  A hook got him in the face, into the arms of the demented Irishman who held him in a tight, unyielding grip that had him struggling for air.

      Schuldich laughed, "This is so much easier when the place isn't falling apart over your heads!"
      Crawford paused from dodging Ian's spikes, to grin at the situation even as the boy's eyes widened, then looked plainly dismayed.

      "Shit."

      "Eloquent, aren't you?" sneered Crawford, "a, check and mate.  What do you do?"

      "They've just upped the stakes in your little game," growled Ran, efficiently flicking his wrist just-so, sending the disoriented Ken's daggers to the air, thumping uselessly on the ground.  Then put the blade of his katana against his throat.

      "Game over," declared Ran, "you lose."
      But Ken didn't seem to care, didn't even notice.  His eyes were wild and unfocused on Ran, but looking at Omi and Yoji in their fatal positions.

      "No…"
      He looked at Ran at last, his eyes shaking with unshed tears.  "Ran… Ran…"
      "Yes, look at what you've done," whispered Ran against Ken's ear.  "But the question is… what can you do to change it?"
      Would saying sorry be useless right now? Duh.  Right.

      "I was thinking," Ran said, "I'd let you go so I could kill your new friends.  If I did that, would you kill ME? Or maybe I should kill you first and move in on them afterwards"
      "Do what you want," said Ken breathlessly, closing his eyes.  Tears leaked from them, but he ignored it.

      "I care about you," Ran told him vehemently, "but I'll tell you now.  If they die… I'll kill you.  With my bare hands.  How fast can you run away and how far can you go, I don't care.  I'll get you"
      "Do what you want," Ken said again.

      With an irritated growl that reminded Ken so much of the man who complained about being in love, Ran shoved Ken sideward and moved in on Nagi.

      It wasn't over yet.

      It was the singular thought that dominated Ian's suddenly-jubilant mind upon seeing Ran make his move.  Hidaka was still alive, but that was entirely beside the point now.

      The other man who was cornered was Yoji.  Of course Ran couldn't get all of them at once, and prioritized the worst situation.

      As Crawford watched things start to turn, Ian tossed his spikes expertly, getting three on Farfello's oblivious body.  The poison would be quick; the trick here was that was it quick enough? Yoji might be dead by the time it takes effect, because the Irishman felt no pain.

      But the single golden eye exposed to the world suddenly widened in surprise and shock.  He just… dropped dead.  Without knowing why.

      Crawford turned to Ian accusingly and angrily.

      Those eyes plainly screamed that Ian's poisoned spikes wouldn't be enough to stop this rampage.

      Omi fell to the ground as Ran's blade broke through Nagi's flesh.  The young boy's body crumpled.  He looked so innocent that a shock wave of regret filled Ran's heart, but dissipated as quickly as it had come, upon looking at Ian's situation.

      "No!" Ran yelled, as Crawford drew out a gun and came closer.  Ran was too far.  He had saved one man and risked others.  When were his actions ever going to be enough to keep them all?

      Ken dove straight at Crawford.

      It isn't too late for him to change back…

      Crawford saw it coming, a moment too late, but not late enough to not have an opportunity to fire his gun by instinctive retaliation.

      Ken drove a knife straight into Crawford's back, as much physically as spiritually. 

      The two of them fell in a heap on the floor, blood everywhere though it was a wonder who owned most of it.

      Ken pulled himself to his elbows, rising first, and cradled the dying flesh of the man who, at one time, had been an ally.

      "Traitor," Crawford said thickly, blood pouring from his mouth as he laughed about his fate.

      "The worst kind," Ken confirmed softly, groping on the floor to pick up Crawford's fallen glasses and placed it over his still face.

      Schuldich, if anything, had the instincts of a survivor.

      He calculated the odds, then decided to run.  It wasn't abandonment; all of his teammates were already dead anyway.  It was… practical.

      He just ducked out, plain and simple.  And White Cross… five of them, now? Didn't bother to push their luck and go after him.

      It was over.

      Miraculously, they were complete.

      The five men drove back to the Koneko, to lick their wounds.

      Ken hesitated, but wasn't proof against Omi's master charms.  After some quick first aid and LOTS of aspirin, the group settled down in the basement.

      "I'll go get some rest in my apartment now," Ian said quietly, feeling like an outsider again, "I mean your apartment…"

      "It's not mine," Ken said blandly.

      "I'd think," said Ian tightly, "now that you're back, you'd want it.  I don't mind so much…"
      "It's not mine anymore," Ken said again.

      "Okay," Ian said with a small, relieved smile, "That's fine.  I won't insist, you know.  I happen to like it"
      Ken let him go at that, chuckling a little. 

      "I'm tired too," Omi admitted with a yawn, "Ken… I want to go up to bed now, but I'm afraid that if I close my eyes on you, you'll leave"

      "I will leave," Ken said with finality, "I don't belong here anymore"
      "Yes you do," insisted Yoji, but said nothing else.  He could see the decision in Ken's eyes.  This life was over for him.

      "Kritiker won't have me," said Ken, "Neither should you…"
      "There's got to be some other way--" Omi said, but even the plea sounded half-hearted to him.  This was it.  "If you're going to leave… leave now.  Before Manx or someone comes along.  Leave now"

      "I will," promised Ken.  "Now go on up.  I have to talk to Ran"

      Omi blinked back the tears in his eyes, refusing them.  "Okay.  Be careful, Ken.  I'll see you soon"
      "Not too soon," murmured Ken, as they hugged.  Yoji took his claim too, before following Omi up to the rooms above.

      "Nothing has changed about the way I feel," Ran told him.

      "I… know"

      "You will leave," said Ran edgily, "And go far.  Go real far.  Kritiker doesn't forgive.  I don't care if you never come back.  Just be safe."

      "Ran…" said Ken, his eyes drifting to the bandages that still bulked in Ran's torso.  "I'm… sorry"
      "I'm sorry too"

      "Oh, no," Ken said with a nervous laugh, "You aren't going to steal this from me.  It's my fault.  I blew everything out of proportion.  I took everyone down with me.  I guess that's just what I wanted to say.  That I'm sorry"

      Ran looked at him intently.  "This is the last time we'll ever see each other, isn't it?"
      "I think so"

      "Then won't you lie, at least?" Ran asked, a smile playing against his lips, "Tell me you love me back?"

      "Maybe…" Ken said softly, "If I were a different person.  If I had been who I was, if I had more time than I did… maybe.  But it's too late for me now.  I don't deserve any of it"
      "Ken…"
      "Don't worry, it's not you," Ken said quickly, "It's always been me.  All from the start I've always been the one who was wrong.  Kase gave me hate and I gave him back love.  You gave me love and I gave you back hate.  It's always been me.

      "I have to go," Ken said shakily, heading for the stairs towards the ground-level.  "Don't bother to see me out.  I know the way"

      Ran didn't take him to the door.  But he did go up to his apartment in a rush, and watched Ken turn stealthily into an alley from his window.

      "Be safe…" he whispered into the night.

      Curtain's down.

      Show's over.

      You can falter now.

      Ken's labored breathing was loud in the night.  Crawford's bullet had been true.  Also, to his back.  It takes awhile to die from it.

      He hadn't wanted to die in front of his friends.  His ONLY friends.  But it was a risk he took, to see the sole place he considered to be his home again.  And to fix things, before he left.

      He supported himself against the wall, and laughed before he started to feel sorry for himself.  Wasting away alone.  This was one shitty death.

      "Stop," her curt voice said, and he turned slowly to face his executioner with a welcoming smile.

      "Manx," he said pleasantly.

      "Siberian, I knew they'd bring you back" she said smoothly, even as she struggled for control.  A gun was pointed, undoubtedly accurately, his way.

      "And I thought I was going to die here by my lonesome," Ken said, somehow genuinely cheerful.  "Go ahead, lady.  Do the honors.  Feel free.  You happen to be one of my favorite people in the world, Manx"
      She took a shaky breath, "Ken… I don't want to do this.  Please… run away.  Just run.  Fight back.  Something"
      "No," said Ken tiredly, "I won't keep you from this decision, Manx.  You do what you have to.  I'll do whatever the hell I want"

      "Run…" she begged.

      "Where do I go?" Ken asked with a sad smile.  "You know… I haven't slept for a year.  You'll be doing me a favor, Manx.  Honest"

      She closed her eyes.  "If you stay, I'll have to fire"
      "Then do it"
     

      The silencer kicked in.

      But the sound of the body falling on the hard ground was just as telling as any bullet in the quiet night.

      It had to be done.

      Ken turned to his back and looked up at the stars with his last breaths.  They shone brighter in the country, he knew, but late at night with all the neon lights closed, they shone wonderfully bright in the city too.

      He hoped, dimly, that Manx would take care that his body would not be found by his friends, and that his death would be kept secret.  Maybe they'd know, one day.  But in the meantime…

      There were things better left unknown.

      Have a good life, guys.  Be safe…

THE END

February 12, 2001

NOTES…

1. Okay, sorry for any ooc-ness or any discrepancies. 

2. The title means, if I remember correctly, Latin for "The Way of the Cross."