I fixed the links to our pages on the first chapter so you can actually go to our sites. Sorry about that ^_^
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Three
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Ran flung open the door. He had waited an eternity in mission time - five minutes - after Siberian had reported Balinese leaving with the target. The bodyguard lay in a pool of slowly congealing blood where Ran had lured him in the hallway. Now his only concern was Balinese –
Who was relaxing from a fighting stance, green eyes wide. Turning away, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.
Ran's eyes flickered over the rest of the room. Mattress against the corner - empty. Peeling paint on walls. Dirty floor. Target - sitting in chair, pants undone, dick out, neck broken. Balinese - back still to him, gagging, shocky and pale.
He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. The bodyguard had been inside. Youji had been –
He wanted to rip the man's head off. He wanted to desecrate his body, spread his blood over the floor, cut off the hands that had dared to touch, destroy the foulness that had dared to –
Instead, he dug out the cloth he normally used to wipe down his katana and held it out to Balinese. "Here," he said shortly.
Hand still scrubbing at his mouth, Balinese turned. He took the proffered cloth hesitantly. Ran tried not to see that his hands were trembling slightly.
"Turn on your comm and wait outside," Ran ordered.
Balinese nodded, slipping out the door quickly.
Ran grit his teeth and put the look in Balinese's eyes deliberately aside. He heard the quiet click through his headset as Balinese toggled his radio on. Flipping the target's suit jacket open with his left hand, Ran carefully wiped his katana clean. He sheathed it and rifled through the man's clothes. Finding the papers Kritiker wanted, he shoved them into his trenchcoat, and, as an afterthought, pocketed the bulging wallet as well. It might come in handy sometime.
He had half a mind to give it to Balinese, but decided against that on further reflection. Ran wasn't usually given to kind gestures toward any of his teammates, and he knew without a doubt that Balinese would misconstrue the whole thing.
Youji didn't understand him anyway. Of course, that was because Ran wouldn't let him.
With a last snarl at the corpse, he stalked into the hallway. Balinese was leaning against the wall, staring into space, smoking a cigarette. Ran grabbed his arm and propelled him toward the back entrance.
"Siberian," he growled. "All quiet?"
Balinese shrugged out of his touch, smoothing back his hair and shaking out another cigarette. He lit it with faintly unsteady hands.
"Yeah." The heavy bass beat that infused the entire club crackled into static on Siberian's comm.
"Good. Bombay, meet us at the rendevous in ten minutes. Abyssinian out." Ran shouldered open the heavy door, adjusting his trenchcoat to hide his katana.
"Okay!" Bombay's voice was cheerfully tinny.
"I'll find my own way home," Siberian said drily, and signed off.
Sparing a quick glance behind him to make sure Balinese was following, Ran set off at a brisk pace. "Bombay will meet us a few blocks over," he said quietly. They had gone over this retrieval at the planning session, but Balinese looked sufficiently out of it to have forgotten.
"Right," Balinese muttered around his cigarette. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering a little at the brisk autumn air.
They walked in silence. Ran strode purposefully ahead. He had memorized the best route to the rendevous with Bombay last night. Periodically, he checked over his shoulder, looking for familiar faces, for hurrying footsteps, out of place expressions. There was no one. It was a relief. He highly doubted Balinese would be effective in a fight at this point.
Not that Ran blamed him for that. He was angry, yes, but not at Balinese. They had counted on the bodyguard remaining outside. He had assumed. It was his mistake. He should have known better than to leave anything to chance.
He felt sick at the thought of what Youji had done for them.
But with the possible exception of Siberian, who could be a little reckless at times, any one of them would have done the exact same thing. Save the mission, save your life, save your teammates lives. Weiss was all any of them had left in the way of family. Weiss was everything, their whole lives, their futures, their dreams and their nightmares. They were in this together, heart, body, and soul, and they had already sacrificed everything.
Ran suppressed a pang of guilt as he thought of Aya-chan. He felt, sometimes, that he wasn't being fair to his teammates by keeping her a secret. But if they knew, then he would have to drop that protective shield that being 'Aya' had created for him, and bare his true self to their scrutiny. He wasn't prepared to do that.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Bombay was waiting on the designated corner, engine cold, lights off. He hurriedly climbed into the backseat as Ran opened the driver's side door. Balinese ground his cigarette underneath a boot heel and collapsed into the passenger seat without a word of protest.
Before starting the car, Ran handed the target's papers to Bombay. They drove home in silence, because Ran preferred the radio off, and even in this throw-away car instead of his Porsche, he had the final say. The rustle of papers from the backseat was the only distraction, Balinese preferring to stare out the window at the city lights flashing past.
The Koneko was dark when they pulled in. Ken obviously wasn't back yet. Youji headed toward the stairs without a word as Omi hopped out of the backseat.
"Aya-kun, did something happen?" Omi dogged Ran's footsteps into the kitchen. "Youji-kun is awfully quiet."
Ran was torn. This was something that could possibly affect Youji as an operative, but it was also something he knew the older man would probably prefer to keep private. He poured himself a glass of water from the tap.
"Nothing happened," he said.
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Three
------
Ran flung open the door. He had waited an eternity in mission time - five minutes - after Siberian had reported Balinese leaving with the target. The bodyguard lay in a pool of slowly congealing blood where Ran had lured him in the hallway. Now his only concern was Balinese –
Who was relaxing from a fighting stance, green eyes wide. Turning away, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.
Ran's eyes flickered over the rest of the room. Mattress against the corner - empty. Peeling paint on walls. Dirty floor. Target - sitting in chair, pants undone, dick out, neck broken. Balinese - back still to him, gagging, shocky and pale.
He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. The bodyguard had been inside. Youji had been –
He wanted to rip the man's head off. He wanted to desecrate his body, spread his blood over the floor, cut off the hands that had dared to touch, destroy the foulness that had dared to –
Instead, he dug out the cloth he normally used to wipe down his katana and held it out to Balinese. "Here," he said shortly.
Hand still scrubbing at his mouth, Balinese turned. He took the proffered cloth hesitantly. Ran tried not to see that his hands were trembling slightly.
"Turn on your comm and wait outside," Ran ordered.
Balinese nodded, slipping out the door quickly.
Ran grit his teeth and put the look in Balinese's eyes deliberately aside. He heard the quiet click through his headset as Balinese toggled his radio on. Flipping the target's suit jacket open with his left hand, Ran carefully wiped his katana clean. He sheathed it and rifled through the man's clothes. Finding the papers Kritiker wanted, he shoved them into his trenchcoat, and, as an afterthought, pocketed the bulging wallet as well. It might come in handy sometime.
He had half a mind to give it to Balinese, but decided against that on further reflection. Ran wasn't usually given to kind gestures toward any of his teammates, and he knew without a doubt that Balinese would misconstrue the whole thing.
Youji didn't understand him anyway. Of course, that was because Ran wouldn't let him.
With a last snarl at the corpse, he stalked into the hallway. Balinese was leaning against the wall, staring into space, smoking a cigarette. Ran grabbed his arm and propelled him toward the back entrance.
"Siberian," he growled. "All quiet?"
Balinese shrugged out of his touch, smoothing back his hair and shaking out another cigarette. He lit it with faintly unsteady hands.
"Yeah." The heavy bass beat that infused the entire club crackled into static on Siberian's comm.
"Good. Bombay, meet us at the rendevous in ten minutes. Abyssinian out." Ran shouldered open the heavy door, adjusting his trenchcoat to hide his katana.
"Okay!" Bombay's voice was cheerfully tinny.
"I'll find my own way home," Siberian said drily, and signed off.
Sparing a quick glance behind him to make sure Balinese was following, Ran set off at a brisk pace. "Bombay will meet us a few blocks over," he said quietly. They had gone over this retrieval at the planning session, but Balinese looked sufficiently out of it to have forgotten.
"Right," Balinese muttered around his cigarette. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering a little at the brisk autumn air.
They walked in silence. Ran strode purposefully ahead. He had memorized the best route to the rendevous with Bombay last night. Periodically, he checked over his shoulder, looking for familiar faces, for hurrying footsteps, out of place expressions. There was no one. It was a relief. He highly doubted Balinese would be effective in a fight at this point.
Not that Ran blamed him for that. He was angry, yes, but not at Balinese. They had counted on the bodyguard remaining outside. He had assumed. It was his mistake. He should have known better than to leave anything to chance.
He felt sick at the thought of what Youji had done for them.
But with the possible exception of Siberian, who could be a little reckless at times, any one of them would have done the exact same thing. Save the mission, save your life, save your teammates lives. Weiss was all any of them had left in the way of family. Weiss was everything, their whole lives, their futures, their dreams and their nightmares. They were in this together, heart, body, and soul, and they had already sacrificed everything.
Ran suppressed a pang of guilt as he thought of Aya-chan. He felt, sometimes, that he wasn't being fair to his teammates by keeping her a secret. But if they knew, then he would have to drop that protective shield that being 'Aya' had created for him, and bare his true self to their scrutiny. He wasn't prepared to do that.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Bombay was waiting on the designated corner, engine cold, lights off. He hurriedly climbed into the backseat as Ran opened the driver's side door. Balinese ground his cigarette underneath a boot heel and collapsed into the passenger seat without a word of protest.
Before starting the car, Ran handed the target's papers to Bombay. They drove home in silence, because Ran preferred the radio off, and even in this throw-away car instead of his Porsche, he had the final say. The rustle of papers from the backseat was the only distraction, Balinese preferring to stare out the window at the city lights flashing past.
The Koneko was dark when they pulled in. Ken obviously wasn't back yet. Youji headed toward the stairs without a word as Omi hopped out of the backseat.
"Aya-kun, did something happen?" Omi dogged Ran's footsteps into the kitchen. "Youji-kun is awfully quiet."
Ran was torn. This was something that could possibly affect Youji as an operative, but it was also something he knew the older man would probably prefer to keep private. He poured himself a glass of water from the tap.
"Nothing happened," he said.
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