Hi all. Sorry for the lack of update. Blame the editor ne? Anyway, here's the next chapter. Thank you to my editor. Thank you to all the reviews new and old –Hannya, Sneak, Link621 , Tsunami, Nekojita, and of course, Tmelange. I adore you support. So here it is. Enjoy guys!
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Damn, but he wanted his coat.
The winter wind was chill, and bit at his face as he dodged his way though the shapeless crowd. One would think that a thousand bodies might make things a little warmer, but it wasn't working for Youji.
Damn, but that Manx had attitude. Youji's hands shoved deep into the jacket of the armani he wore, and he glared at the cracked pavement as he walked, trying to forget her, failing miserably. No of course she hadn't asked for his acceptance of the mission. That wasn't what bothered it him. It was what she had said before-hand that pissed him off.
'This was made for you Youji. It will take someone smooth. Someone cunning. And someone expendable. You're perfect.'
Bitch. He growled deep within his throat, startling a pair of children that darted past him as he walked by. Expendable. He did not know why the comment cut so deep. After all, they were assassins, and therefore all expendable, right? After all, there was a chance that any of them could die on any mission, on any goddamned day of the week. Why should he care what Manx said, if it was the truth?
Maybe because it was the truth. Because it finally hit close to home.
He shuddered lightly, not entirely sure if it was the concept or the cold which made him do so. What little light had been was now fading to a sickly grey, and the crowds around him were beginning to thin. He imagined it would be around twilight, if there had been any sun to go by. He looked up to see if he might find it -but it was to no avail. The sky was a dusty grey, and all around him, buildings stretched high into the smog canvas. For the first time in a while, he felt the sensation of being trapped. The skyscrapers were mountains -mountains of steel and granite which sprouted from an asphalt earth and closed in all around him. Barring him from any hope of escape of this life. Rendering him helpless. This was the prison Kritiker had created for him.
He would roam the streets at night, rebelling against society, and against the city which contained him -always searching for something new and shocking. Seeking out a thrill to defy that hold which Kritiker had on him. To him, each new conquest was a laugh in their face. They could keep him penned up in Tokyo for the rest of his life, but they damned well couldn't control his nightlife, no matter how they tried, or expressed their unhappiness with his doings. So afraid were they that he might become attatched. That he might bond with an 'outsider.' So why didn't they just kill him? Well, Youji figured being with Weiss had to have had something to do with it.
He shook his head with a sigh now, and pulled his grey suit jacket closer around him. What utter nonsense. No wonder Aya thought he was an idiot. Aya...
The wind screamed in his ears as he turned the corner. All around him, people were dashing to and fro, running for cover or to the subway to take them home. Suddenly, he found himself wondering at what had convinced him to take the subway that evening instead of driving Seven. Perhaps to help him look more his part, should any of the other suit wearers see him on his way home? Yeah, that was it.
He came to a halt at the base of a particularly tall building. No shining neon advertisements flashed in the near dark around it. Indeed, the entire building was dark, save for a single light shinging through the window of a room near the top. It loomed up before him, the greatest of the concrete mountains on the block. Absently, Youji wondered if this was the building which stuck out from the skyline when he watched the city at twilight.
He wondered if he was a geek because he was wondering about it.
Youji abandoned all musings with a firm shake of his head, and took that last step, huddling in the entranceway. He reached for the handles to the glass doors. Cold on his hands. Locked. Of course. He pushed the red button above a panel of grey button and a thin, rectangular slot made for a card.
Regulated workers. Would that change anything?
Nah.
"Arkaki, Wataru, I presume." A deep voice boomed from the speaker beside him, causing Youji to jump.
"Hai." Youji smiled, not so much because the owner of the voice could see it, but because he knew that a smile would always creep into one's voice when the spoke. Somehow. Asuka had told him that too.
"My employer has sent me on his behalf so that I might....."
"Yes, yes, I know." The voice was impatient. "Do come in."
The doors clicked, and Youji tried them once again.
Open.
When he was all of five steps in, he was greeted by two armed personnel, and directed to the elevator. He watched warily as they came in after him. Normally, he might make a sarcastic comment about here, but again, the role he played forbid him from doing so. And regulations and expectations were apparently quite strict here. He suddenly wondered if he might be searched, but still the guards showed no signs of intending to do so. Not that they'd find his weapon if they tried. Not that he was going to use it this day.
He grinned inwardly.
They didn't know that he killed people like them at least one night of the week, and lived off the profits. Didn't know that right now, he could strangle them and tie them to the top of this very elevator shaft and leave them hanging. He wondered -would people ever wonder what the crunch was when they reached the top floor?
He frowned at the dark image his mind was projecting. This wasn't him. This was something Aya might think of. No, not even Aya. Mastermind, or Beserker, two of Weiss' own mortal enemies might. But not his Aya. And certainly not him. The hell was wrong with him?
'Tch Youji, been too much on your own.' He chided himself mentally, and shoved his hands deep within his pockets. 'You could really use a lay.'
"Do not look so concerned, Arakaki-san."
Youji looked up to see the taller of the two guards talking at him. He frowned. Grunts didn't usually talk. "Excuse me?"
He was pleased when the offender had the decency to look embarrassed. Some grunt had no right to express his opinions to a businessman of his supposed stature.
"Forgive me for speaking out of line. You looked troubled, that is all."
"I see." The brunette's voice was flat, and condescending.
The elevator reached the top floor with a ping, and brass doors parted to make way for the company of three. Youji found himself trailing the taller man through the winding maze of corridors, hallways and closed doors, with the other behind him, close enough that he could feel breath upon his neck. He barely supresssed the urge to shudder.
And maybe it wasn't just close contact which caused the tingling sensations in his body. Youji had always been an instinctive person, it wasn't uncommon for him to get hunches -it was one of the reasons he had been successful as a detective. That aside, the dark disconcerted him. Normally, it would have been a comfort. But this was different -there was no Aya, no Omi no Ken hiding in the dark, ready to back him up if he screwed up. Not even to come back for him if something wrong. It was all on him.
"Almost there." The guard infront of him turned and looked at him with a strange half smile, and Youji was definitely weirded out this time.
'The hell? Ach, shut up Youji, your just freaked out, never been on your own, that's all it is.'
He didn't have time to dwell on it as they stopped before the last closed door at the end of a long hallway.
"Takahashi-sama?" One of his escorts was knocking on the door. "Arakaki-san has arrived."
"Good." Came the gravelly, deep rumble of a bass from the other side. "Send him in."
Youji's heart was throbbing painfully in his chest, but he did not let slip his professional mask. To keep a poker face meant everything. The door was opened for him and he entered, hardly even startling when the door was closed behind him. Wait...was that the click of a lock? No, it had to be his imagination. He bowed low, the gesture automatic to him -and necessary for his part. As he did so he took in his surroundings. The room was awash with dim light -that was the first thing he noticed. That meant it had to be the one he had seen from the ground. Which meant he was a long way up. Which he didn't like. Too far from any exits. Though Manx had told him murder would be completely unnecessary in this particular case. The second thing, that it was sparse for an executive's office. Where there normally may have been certificates or expensive pieces of modern art hanging off the walls, there was naught but one picture -but Youji could not prolong his bow enough to catch what it was of. He straightened and smiled up at the back presented to him.
"Takahashi-sama, it is a pleasure."
"The pleasure, Arakaki-san, is all mine." The man still did not turn from his place at the window."Do sit down."
Youji obliged wordlessly, pulling a soft leather chair infront of the deep mahogany of the desk.
"I do apologize for this strange hour at which I requested your coming, and hope I haven't interrupted any dinner arrangements you may have had. But you must understand, security is of optimum priority."
Youji chuckled, as he supposed, one should in this situation. "No, not at all, Takahashi-sama. It is to be expected, of one belonging to such a....respectable company."
"We understand each other then. I am glad. I have no desire to deal with foolishness, Kudou Youji. But you are a smart man. And I like that."
Youji's eyes widened at the use of his real name. "T-takahashi-sama?"
The man gave him a dark smile and rose from his desk. "I would rather that you called me Persia?"
"Pers...." Youji's mouth worked open and closed in silence, as he digested the piece of information. What the hell? Persia? The one whom they never saw in person, that silent God which dictated their lives from a distance. Persia. Their own personal Satan. Standing right infront of him. But why? What was this? What the fuck was going on? Gaining a little of his nerve back, he expressed this latter sentiment aloud.
The man who he knew now to be as Persia laughed, maybe at his lack of formality, or at his coloured language.
"Do you really not know? Did Manx not inform you?"
"Apparently not. Inform me of what?" Youji clenched a fist into the arm of the chair.
The man sighed. "You, are fluent in English, are you not?"
Youji's gaze strayed far beyond the realm of the glass paned window and into the city. His eyes stopped at the flashing neon lights of the club district just blocks away from the business portion of town. He always wondered if that was a coincidence or no...
"Yes." He answered slowly, eyeing Perisa's suited back, being in his company –it was unnerving. The man who owned him. All of them. How easy would it be just to kill him? He had his watch. How difficult would it be just to press that button, to slit his throat and....no he'd never make it out alive. And knowing Kritker's lust for vengance, the rest of his team might be tracked down and forced to pay. It would be futile. He sighed and folded his hands in his lap. Yet still…all it would take is one flick of the …..
"Why?"
"Manx was right, you are perfect."
"For what?" Youji rose to his feet in anger. "For what goddamn it? Would someone fill me in here? What am I perfect for?"
"Calm yourself Youji." Persia intoned. "Everything will make itself clear in due time Balinese. Now sit down."
Silently Youji obeyed, but bristled inwardly, disliking the familiar stance Persia took by calling him by his first name.
"Now, you no doubt have some knowledge of the missions Weiss is acting on now. How we intend for you to gain those files from Gesellschaft?"
Youji studied the floral patterns in the thick, black carpet. "Yeah."
"Good. And I assume you understood your major role in these missions as well?"
"Type them up and return the original copies the next night with Bombay, so no one ever realizes that a thing happened. I figured it was too risky to photocopy the files, and any scanner of ours...." He laughed. "Well, you guys gave us a crap one, so there's no way it would pick up very clearly."
The brunette watched the back of Perisa's head bob. "Yes. And I'm sure you were curious as to why, you were to type them and not the computers specialist himself."
"Yeah...." Youji agreed. "Kind of."
Indeed he had wondered. It had made little sense to him at all in fact. It was rare that he used computers himself, other than email, and as a result, his typing skills were poor. It only made logical sense that this task should be passed to Omi, the faster of the two. Though, given, he had not dwelled long upon that fact.
"The information which is contained within those files -it is for you Balinese."
"Nani?"* Youji blinked Naze...?"*
"Ah Balinese. You were told Gessellschaft is one of our rivals. But the problem within is that Gessellschaft is split into two divisions -one in America, and one here."
"All right...."
"We wish to...eradicate them. But with two solid branches..well....it's just too easy for them to re-establish power once more. To remove the threat of Gessellschaft in Japan, we must do the same in the United States."
"Ho?" Youji arched an eyebrow. "And that relates to me...how?"
"....Balinese, as one of our most elite assassins and the only in Weiss completely fluent in English...please, read the contents of the envelope on the table before you."
He picked up the yellow envelope, noting the strange way that it felt like lead in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the flap, and extracted the vital paper within. He read it. Slowly. Then he looked up again. Blinked. Uncertainty coiled like a snake around his heart, and his head bent again. He went through the contents the paper once more.
"NAAAANI?" Youji was on his feet again, eyes wide with both anger and surprise. "What do you guys think your trying to prove?!?"
"You're job is to be our spy." Youji quivered with supressed anger, but even so, could not help but note how the suit Persia wore tightened across the back of his shoulder blades. He was tense. But there was no way Youji could use that to his advantage. Because Persia…..
"…Find their weaknesses as well as their strengths. Gesselschaft must be brought to their knees -and you, you will provide the means of how."
And finally, it all sunk in. All the pieces connected. Weiss would steal files from the Japanese Gesselschaft, which would contain information about the American one. Which...no....wait.
"But, couldn't we just find their weak and strong points through those files Persia? And one thing still has me confused -what the hell has Gesselschaft done wrong? Why are you hell-bent on destroying them?"
Persia huffed. "I doubt that there will be data of that sort. Kritiker is no foolish enough to keep accessible files of that kind. I imagine the data you will extract will find you the location of their headquarters....their leaders, everything the stand for. Which you shall use when go undercover as a hopeful agent." Youji felt, rather than saw the dark smile which accompanied the statement, and he focused a glare on his superior.
'Why...should I do this for you? Why...do you own my life?'
"You know, Balinese..." Persia continued. "with your American looks, I wonder, if you might get away with little questioning at all. Manx read me your profile, and I imagine your English accent is....perfect. I think you will seem quite authentic. I head that it's in your blood..." That low voice, usually so slow and monotonous held a note of something different now. Of mockery. Was that it?
Youji gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the statement. "You never answered my other question."
"To answer your other question? We are not sure of the nature of the relationship between Gesselschaft and the underground crime rings of America. Here, they are not connected. There is also some talk of inside trading within the Stock Markets."
"I see." The brunette replied after a long moment of silence. Then he stood. "What if I chose not to accept the mission Persia?" He said after a moment's hesitation. His eyes darted twice across the room before settling on the back of the man's head. "What then?"
For the first time that evening, Kritiker's leading man looked away from the window. Not enough that Youji could see his face, but the movement was visible. Strange...
"If you do not accept...or should anything happen so that you may not complete this mission..." the voice reminded him of liquid honey -yet strangely marred by the rasping of sand paper. Youji gave in to a shudder. "...then Weiss will pay for your foolishness with their lives."
Youji's verdant eyes widened and narrowed within the span of a second. Words tumbled from his mouth, heedless of whether his mind thought them wise, or no.
"That's not fair...."
Ken and Omi, opening their Christmas presents. Omi chiding the brunette for not saving the glittering wrappings. Their muffled laughter mixing in the morning with the ripping and shredding of paper. Both of them startling as the doorbell rings.
Ken's unhappy sigh, as Omi clears away the glittering paper and shoves it beneath the tree. "No….not a mission today…"
"You.....you shouldn't have this hold on us."
Aya, sweating and amethyst eyes wild and wide as he awoke from a nightmare in Youji's bed that first night of his joining. Pale fingers caressing the gold earing they came to learn the meaning of...
"Aya...you were calling that name out in your sleep. Is that your name?"
The look of bewildered confusion slowly hardening into stone.
"Aa. Call me....Aya. Aya..."
"On...... me."
"Youji...stop!" Her pained cry as those beautiful hands flew to her throat. The sharp gasp of her last breath..the soft gurgle....the sickening way that she fell to the ground, the thud of her head against the pavement enough to make her bleed even then...beautiful body spawled awkwardly in a pool of blood with the brand of his wire around her elegant neck.......her eyes still open....
Youji burried his head in hands and squeezed his own eyes shut, trying to banish the image away.
"Accept or reject, Kudou." Persia's voice snapped him back to reality.. "Save me your impertinence and make the decision. Neither choice will save you from punishment for your arrogance. I am disappointed. I thought you to be a smart man. Now, which is it?"
"What do you think?" Youji cried in anger. "I have no choice. I accept your goddamned mission. Just leave them alone , you ass!"
"As you wish." Persia moved to the desk, hiding his face with one hand. With the other he rang for the grunts, who arrived in seconds to take Youji away. Only this time, there were five -not two. When the door was thrown open he tried to dart out past them, but with not avail -a leg dashed out to trip him to that padded black carpet. He gasped when a well placed kick reached home in his abdomen. He choked on his breath.
"But I can not say the same for you. We shall meet again, you and I, perhaps when you are of better temperament. Oh and one more thing Balinese. Not a word of this shall be spoken to your team. They would try to talk you out of it. And you don't want them to look like you will when this night is over, do you?"
The door slammed shut and Youji was altogether too aware of the now dark hallway. Yet, it was not so dark that he missed the malicious glint in the eyes surrounding them.
"Arakaki-san, you should have been more careful."
He was yanked up by the hair, and he felt the tip of a knife skim along his cheek. He shuddered lightly.
Damn you Manx. His smile was sardonic. This suit was really expensive.
*Nani, means what.
*Naze means why
Also, in case you didn't already know, sama is an honourific used to show GREAT respect.