Youji thanked Birman for the ride as he eased himself out of the car, his first priorities being aspirin and a long soak before a nap in his own soft bed. He let himself in the back door, jacket draped over his arm.

"Ohayou, Youji-kun," Omi said cheerfully, peeking out of the kitchen. "There's coffee." The genki grin fell from his face as Youji drew closer, wide blue eyes taking in the stiffness of Youji's movements and the ugly bruise on his cheek. "What happened?"

"I lost a fist fight with a marble statue," Youji answered. "Do we have any aspirin?"

Omi looked confused but didn't press the issue. "Hai." He wandered off to fetch one of the many bottles they had stashed away. Over-training and mission injuries, combined with the insomnia induced headaches they all suffered from at some point forced them to keep painkillers on hand, usually not too far out of reach. Youji was just too tired to go find one himself. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the communal pot and lowered himself in to a chair at their kitchen table for a moment.

The caffeine helped ease the throbbing in his temples, but didn't help keep him moving, so deep was his fatigue. His whole body hurt and he was tired and frustrated and very much wanting to just sleep for the afternoon.

"Here, Youji-kun." Omi presented the blonde with a few tablets, which he swallowed down with the dregs of his coffee.

"Thanks, chibi." Youji levered himself out of the chair. He winced as he stood up straight. He found a smile for the youngest member of their team. "Don't worry, Omittichi. I'll be fine after a shower and a nap." He ruffled the floppy blonde hair as he moved past.

Youji sighed as he passed the fist sized hole in the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He hadn't had a chance to patch the result of Ken's rage, and apparently, the soccer player hadn't gotten around to it either. He hauled himself up the stairs slowly, going straight for the bathroom and the shower.

He groaned as he bent to turn on the taps, cold water switching to hot after a beat, steam beginning to fill the small space as Youji stripped slowly out of the clothes he'd been in for over a day. His chest was a myriad of bruises from where Aya had struck him repeatedly, but he didn't think any of his ribs were damaged. The aspirin and coffee took the edge off his headache, but he still felt like he'd been slammed against a wall a few times.

Oh wait, he thought sarcastically as he stripped out of his pants. I was. He winced as he bent slightly to tug off his pants. If he could have seen his backside, Youji guessed it would have been the same color as the bruise on his cheek. He still didn't know who the girl had been, the one that shared Aya's name. And for the life of him, Youji couldn't figure out what exactly he'd said that had turned the redhead's rage on him. He hadn't expected it; should have, probably, but even after all the times they had sparred together, practicing their hand to hand combat maneuvers, he hadn't been able to shake Aya off, hadn't been able to anticipate any of his moves enough to counter or get away. Aya's anger had overridden everything else, making him impossible to fight against.

Youji used the steam-slicked tile for balance as he climbed over the edge of the tub. They'd installed a tub a year or so ago, before Aya had joined the team, when Ken had been injured severely enough that he couldn't stand long enough to shower. And it had made sense, and seen good use since then with the various wounds they brought home from their evening profession.

He stood under the hot spray, letting it melt away the pain and tension in his chest and back.

Manx had made him drag his ass up four flights of stairs before starting their ass chewing in earnest. Couldn't the woman have let them take the elevator for once? The lecture he had expected from their boss never came, Youji thought as he shampooed his hair. They had gotten off surprisingly easy, considering. Manx had been right; they could have blown not only their own covers, but that of the rest of the team, not to mention Kritiker as a whole.

But it wasn't like I did anything Youji thought as he rinsed. Maybe he shouldn't have followed Aya, but he couldn't have let an opportunity pass him by when he saw the redhead on the street. He needed an explanation, some kind of closure as to why Aya had left. He hadn't thought the simple question would make Aya turn on him the way he had.

Youji could barely see through the cloud of steam when he pulled the curtain aside. Two clean towels perched on the closed toilet seat; Omi had probably snuck in while he had soaked. He wrapped one around his waist and used the other to scrub at his hair. No longer dripping, he bent slowly to retrieve his laundry off the floor before moving to his room.

He eased onto his bed, not bothering with clothes as he stretched out, slowly dropping off into blissful unconsciousness.

The sun had progressed across the sky by the time Youji stirred. He groaned as he buried his head under his pillow. He didn't really feel any better for the sleep. His stomach rumbled and other bodily demands made themselves known, decided for him that it was time to drag his ass out of bed. A glance at the clock proved what he suspected; it was late afternoon. He'd only slept a few hours.

Youji saw to the demands of his body before clattering downstairs barefoot and wearing only his low slung jeans. The TV blared from the common room as Youji padded into the kitchen, looking to fill his empty stomach.

His first step was to pull a tumbler from the cupboard and fill it with water as he searched the counters for the bottle of aspirin Omi had found for him earlier. It was sitting on the table, where it had been left that morning.

"Sleep well, Youji-kun?" Omi fairly bounced into the kitchen.

We need to start monitoring his sugar intake again Youji thought wryly. "Good enough," he answered, flipping the cap off the bottle of aspirin. He set the bottle on the edge of the sink after swallowing three tablets with a glass of water.

Youji rummaged through the refrigerator, coming up with leftover take out, still in the boxes. He couldn't remember how long it had been there, but it smelled okay. Omi ducked around him and pulled a bottle of Ken's sports drink from the back. Omi was just as serious an assassin as the rest of them, but there were times when the teen's age was obvious, personality shifting to the bright cheerful child he was when he wasn't blowing things up or hacking into security systems.

His lunch dumped on a plate, Youji stuck it in the microwave and leaned against the counter as it warmed.

The back door slammed shut. A moment later a familiar slim figure stood in the doorway of the kitchen, two duffel bags slung over his shoulder and a box held in outstretched arms. His lips were pressed together in a tight thin line, frown creasing his forehead, looking for all the world to Youji like he was going to bite someone's head off if they so much as breathed wrong in his presence.

"Welcome home, Aya-kun," Omi said cheerfully.

Youji watched in amazement as the harsh expression softened. "Thank you," the redhead said quietly before turning and carrying his burden up the stairs.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Youji asked Omi, staring after Aya.

"Manx called while you were asleep," Omi said, the genki grin back on his face. "Aya-kun has been re-assigned to us."

The kid actually looked happy about that. Youji sighed. Great. "I don't suppose I could get you to shift the schedules around so we don't have to work together?" After Aya's display of temper outside the hospital, Youji wasn't sure he wanted to try to share a shift in the koneko with the younger man. The slightest mistake would probably get the crap beaten out of him again.

"I'm sorry, Youji-kun," Omi chirped. "This week's work schedule is already set."

"Ken can do it."

"Kenken requested closing shift this week. You'll just have to work with Aya-kun."

"Omi," Youji practically growled at the teenager.

"I'm sorry, Yotan," Omi repeated with a shrug. "There's nothing I can do." With that, he wandered off, probably going back to the movie he'd abandoned briefly.

Perfect Youji thought. Just fucking perfect.

No longer hungry, he scraped the remnants of his lunch into the trash, leaving the plate in the sink to be dealt with later.

Not up to facing the stairs again he carefully dropped into a chair at the table. He wasn't looking forward to the next day. The tense silence of the car ride to Manx's office had been one thing – having to be locked in the shop with the swordsman for an entire day with little hope of escape was another. The bastard probably wouldn't even let him out to smoke.

There was something between them, Youji had felt it in the car, in the cell, in the elevator. Of course, in the elevator in the hospital he had mostly sensed Aya's anger – but in the car there had been a different tension besides that of the impending ass chewing Manx was getting ready to bestow upon them. It was something else, something electric but he couldn't put his finger on it.

And he wasn't looking forward to an entire day of it.

"Oi, Youji!" Omi called. "Dirty Harry's on!"

Youji smirked as he hauled himself up. The movie would probably just put him to sleep, but it would be better than listening to the thoughts running around in his head. Especially the English movie with Japanese subtitles that Omi used to help hone his skills with the western language.

He joined the teenager on the couch, Ken watching intently from the armchair. True to his prediction, Youji was fast asleep in no time.