Force of Habit: Chapter Seven

Warning: I'm going to be using German for some of the dialogue. Sorry, but I tried writing this without any and it just didn't work. Plus, it'll only last until Yohji remembers that he knows the language. I'll put the translations down at the bottom. Oh and big thanks to dear friend who reminded me that I have no soul and therefore shouldn't hesitate to serve up some severe shit for Schuldig. And additionally, things start to get /really/ complicated from here on in. I hope you've all been paying attention darlings. ;)

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"Hi, welcome to The Noh, can I get you something to drink?"  The clarity of the young man's voice came as a surprise to Ran considering the loudness of the music and the fact that the server, like all the other employees in the bar, wore a mask that completely obscured his face. Despite the obstruction, his voice was clear enough to even detect the traces of what sounded like a French accent.

From his position on the opposite side of the small table, Yohji grinned at the man, obviously not in the least bit bothered by his strange appearance. "Two shots of Absolut." The blond cheerfully requested, completely ignoring the glare being directed at him by his companion. "Oh, yeah, and better get us something to wash 'em down with too." He watched the man note down the order and head off to the bar, before turning back to grin at the redhead, the loose straps of his shirt revealing a tanned expanse of well-toned muscle as the blond leaned forwards. "Pretty cool, isn't it?"

"Hn," Ran muttered as he let his gaze travel over the serving staff again, more in an attempt to prevent himself from watching the way the man's abdominal muscles rippled with every movement than any real curiosity. "Why do all the staff wear red contact lenses?"

Yohji shrugged. "Apparently it's got something to do with the book or whatever that they took the name from. The Noh was a name for an assassination group or something." Yohji looked at the younger man in amusement. "Of course, it's hopeless asking me. I wouldn't remember anyway." For an instant, Yohji could have sworn the corners of Ran's mouth twitched upwards at the joke before the redhead remembered himself. Inwardly, the blond crowed in delight at the sign that the man was finally starting to loosen up. Since waking up to the sight of a glaring redhead in his bed, Yohji had privately decided to make melting Fuijimiya's icy demeanour his own personal mission. Of course, the blond had no way of knowing if temperamental redheads were an established weakness of his, or a newly discovered preference but if the latter was the case, Yohji was certainly open to new experiences. If nothing else, Ran was going to present a touch more of a challenge than the numerous females he'd encountered.

Even now, watching the smaller redhead as he glared around at the other patrons of the club, it was hard to guess exactly what was going on in his mind. Yohji guessed he felt a little uncomfortable, due to the stiffness of Ran's body, noticeable even through the loose black shirt and pants he wore. That was not exactly surprising to the blond, he'd spent enough time around the other man to know that the redhead wasn't exactly the most sociable of people, but Ran had been surprisingly easy to persuade to come out. And therein was the blond's main problem. He couldn't work out where he stood with the redhead.

Perhaps if he hadn't lost his memory, and therefore didn't feel the need to examine and analyse every word and gesture thrown his way, Yohji would just have simply placed his relationship with the violet-eyed man in the 'casual friendship' category. After all, they seemed to spend enough time together, drinking coffee, hanging out and talking about trivial things, but … there was something off in the redhead's demeanour. While the younger man seemed willing enough to spend time with him, he seemed distracted and distant. Anyone with slightly lesser honed observational skills may have simply dismissed it as the man's normal behaviour, but every now and then Yohji saw the act slip. And every time it happened just made Ran's attitude stand out in sharper contrast. It was as if the redhead spent time with him against his better judgement, as if there was something in his head telling him to keep the blond at arm's length. Yohji could see it every time he tried to spend time with Ran. The quick succession of hesitance, indecision and what looked like fear that would flicker behind those amethyst eyes whenever Yohji approached the man with an invitation to do something even as innocent as drink some coffee. And then the way the redhead would slowly relax in his company, proving that behind the icy façade was a regular human being before suddenly snapping back into his usual aloof self. And at those moments, Yohji saw another collection of emotions in those eyes: anger, fear, self-disgust and yet more confusion. Something was making the redhead act this way, and it was something important enough for Ran to feel very uneasy about going against the invisible block and opening up to the blond.

Returning his violet gaze to the blond that sat across from him, Ran frowned slightly as he noticed Yohji's thoughtful stare. "What?" the redhead demanded.

Yohji felt another grin spread across his face at the expression on Ran's face. The poor man didn't even realise how desirable he looked, with that vulnerable shyness carefully hidden behind icy distain. And was before you even took that utterly delectable body into consideration. Yohji wondered how he could possibly be the only person who saw through Ran's act. He refused to believe that no one else could see beyond that flawless, porcelain skin, or that slim and elegant body. Well, now reflecting on the man's more physical assets, it was understandable that people got a touch distracted, especially when being glared at with those wonderful eyes, but really, they didn't know what they were missing.

Ran's glare intensified as Yohji continued to grin at him. "Kudoh …" the man began to growl, but was abruptly cut off as the waiter returned with the drinks.

Safely able to hide his smirk behind the shot glass of vodka, Yohji quickly downed the clear liquid and reached for his beer. "I must confess, you surprised me, Ran," the blond commented, watching the other man closely over the bottleneck he hovered by his lips. "I thought I was going to have to try a lot harder to persuade you to come out tonight."

Hesitance again; quickly disguised by the narrowing of those amethyst orbs as Ran raised his head slightly in dismissal. "You have a very high opinion of yourself, don't you?" Anyone else might have missed the faint tugging at the corners of the man's mouth as Ran fought to keep a smile from his face. Even Yohji might have missed the slight colouring of those pale cheeks, or dismissed it as due to the flashing lights were he not watching the other man so keenly. The redhead quickly gulped down his own shot of vodka, his breath hitching slightly as the liquid burned its way down his throat. Almost as quickly, Ran reached for the beer, chasing the liquor down with a long swig.

Yohji raised an eyebrow in amusement and stretched his leg out beneath the table to brush against the redhead's thigh. "Might wanna slow down there, Ran. Unless you want me to carry you to bed again."

Ran spluttered around his mouthful, quickly replacing the bottle on the table as he coughed to clear his throat. Yohji watched on as he casually sipped at his drink, mainly in an attempt to prevent Ran from seeing the smirk that was threatening to split his face in two. Oh yes, score one point for me, Yohji thought smugly as he watched the redhead struggle to regain his composure. The fact that the smaller man had made no attempt to jerk his leg away from Yohji's was not lost on the blond either.

Replacing his own beer on the table, Yohji rose to his feet and moved around until he was standing in front of Ran. The redhead looked up at him warily, swallowing another gulp of beer. Smiling at the display of nervousness coming from the paler man, Yohji leaned forwards and carefully removed the bottle from Ran's hand. "Come on, let's go dance. There's no point in getting wasted this early in the evening."

Ran frowned at the blond, but rose to his feet anyway. "I'm not getting wasted," he muttered as he made his way through the crowds. Yohji followed close behind, admiring the way those slim hips moved unconsciously to the heavy beat. The alcohol in his system had definitely loosened the redhead up a little, and the speed at which he'd downed the contents of both glass and bottle made Yohji reasonably confident that the majority of said alcohol had gone straight to the man's head.

Reaching out, Yohji wrapped his arms around his companion's waist and pulled the man against him. Ran turned around to face the blond, an element of surprise visible in his widened eyes, before the smaller man drew down his eyelids and sighed. His arms reached up and loosely rested around the blond's shoulders. The beat changed, dropping away to a quietly building bridge and Yohji took the opportunity to bring Ran's body close against him.

I am the needle in your vein (and I control you)

I am the high you can't sustain (and I control you)

I am the pusher; I'm a whore (and I control you)

I am the need you have for more (and I control you)

Ran's eyes slowly opened to stare dazedly at Yohji. The redhead blinked a couple of times, causing Yohji to wonder just how often the redhead indulged in alcohol. From the wide eyes and way Fujimiya pressed himself against his dancing partner, it was pretty obvious that the normally strictly upheld defences had been lowered by a fair amount. Yohji only realised quite how far when the hands clasped at the back of his head pulled his mouth down to meet the redhead's.

The majority of Yohji's mind shut down, focusing only on the sensation of those soft and surprisingly warm lips pressing against his own. Yohji flicked his tongue out to brush against Fujimiya's lower lip, but found it instead drawn eagerly into the cavern of the redhead's mouth. The taste of alcohol was present, but not as strong as Yohji had expected. Instead Ran tasted of lemon with a hint of spices, a vast contrast to the never-ending stream of sugar and peppermint that he'd encountered with all his female dates.

Ran sighed into the kiss, melding himself against the length of the lanky blond and running his own tongue along the blond's. Yohji could only tighten his grip on the other man in response, letting one hand drop down to caress a firm and well-shaped arse. His leather pants were becoming increasingly tight as the smaller man ground his hips against Yohji and the blond could feel the redhead's hardness pressing insistently against his thigh.

The need for oxygen caused Yohji to break off the kiss as he rested his forehead against Ran's and studied the other man's face. The redhead was breathing almost as heavily as Yohji, as he stared up through half-lidded eyes. They drooped shut as Yohji watched, and Ran rested his head against the blond. With unfailing unconscious accuracy Yohji found himself fighting to keep control of his body as the other man nuzzled once again against that extremely sensitive spot on his collarbone. Casting his eyes skyward, Yohji wondered just how the man always seemed to find that one particular weak spot of his.

Yohji could feel the redhead's breath against his skin as Ran struggled to calm his breathing down. Raising his head, Ran looked up at Yohji through eyes clouded by lust and alcohol. A slow smile broke out on the redhead's face as he stretched his neck upwards to let his swollen lips brush against Yohji's earlobe. A brief nip of teeth ensured he had the blond's attention. "Do we have to stay?"

Yohji wasn't sure how to react to this sudden change in Ran's personality. Well, his body had its own ideas, but what remained of the blond's rational thoughts were desperately pointing out that taking advantage of a potentially drunken friend was going to have severe and possibly painful repercussions. They were quickly thrown into opposition with his optimistic nature's observation that refusing a potentially still quite sober Fujimiya had repercussions of a much more long-term nature. Either way, both sides agreed on his immediate reaction as an equally seductive smile at the man in his arms as Yohji leaned in close enough to brush those eartails and replied. "Not any longer than you want to."

As Ran pulled away and began to lead the slightly dazed Yohji back towards the exit, the blond couldn't quite believe what was happening. From the firm grip on his wrist and the redhead's unwavering path, any hints of drunkenness in Ran was well hidden, but Yohji still couldn't equate the quiet, reserved manner he knew with the way the man was behaving now. Oh sure, Yohji knew he was good at the whole seducing game, but he hadn't realised he was this good. Getting Ran into bed on the first try was more of a success than he'd expected.

Once clear of the dance-floor and the numerous tables grouped near the bar, Ran's pace increased. Yohji actually had to tug hard at the vice-like hold on his wrist to get the redhead's attention long enough to remind him about their coats. From the bemused expression on Ran's face, it seemed obvious that he had completely forgotten about the garments. Yohji helped the smaller man into his leather coat barely having time to get his own on before he was dragged outside.

Once in the cold night air, Ran seemed to pause for a few moments. Yohji half-hoped the temperature change was bringing the man back to some semblance of his usual self, but instead found himself hurrying after a quickly moving redhead. "Ran, wait." Breaking into a slight jog, Yohji caught up to the other man and grabbed his arm, effectively pulling Ran to a stop. "You're headed in the wrong direction. The car's the other way."

For a few moments there was no response, then the redhead blinked and frowned slightly, raising one hand as if to rub his head. "It is?"

Yohji nodded, trying to hide his concern. Something was wrong with the other man, and a mere two drinks could not be to blame. "Come on. You look like you're ready to call it a night."

Another frown and Ran shook his head. "I … uh…"

Yohji had a split-second's warning before the other man suddenly collapsed into his arms. Staring at the redhead in shock, Yohji had no time to respond when something cold and sharp pierced his neck. His eyes drooped shut and the blond joined his companion in unconsciousness.

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"Verdammte Stille."

"Chöre sind gefällig?"

"Schnauze! Ist er aufgewacht?"

"Noch nicht. Die Drogen sollen ein bisschen länger dauern."

The sound of voices pulled Yohji into something closer resembling consciousness. His entire body felt as though it was made of lead and as the blond tried to bring a hand up to rub at his eyes, he realised his wrists were encased in cold metal and fastened behind his back to the wall he was slumped against. As his thoughts struggled to make sense of the information his senses were currently relaying, Yohji suddenly felt himself jolt into full consciousness at the memory of a redhead passed out yet again in his arms. Shit, Ran!

"Endlich wach! Du bist so faul wie immer, Yue."

Yohji blearily opened his eyes to find himself being looked at expectantly by two men in their early thirties who looked disturbingly familiar. Both were quite clearly of European descent and one was still dressed in the serving uniform of the Noh bar, only having removed the mask and contacts to reveal almost white-blond hair and grey eyes, while the other was swamped under several layers of clothing that covered almost every inch of flesh. Yohji stared at the latter for a few moments before a memory clicked into place. "You … you were in the hospital."

The waiter and the man from the hospital both looked surprised for a moment, before the waiter turned to his companion with a distinctly irritated expression. "Und du sagtest, er habe dich nicht gesehen. Mon Dieu! Du sollst telepathisch sein!"

"Leck mich am Arsch," the heavily clothed man muttered to his companion before crouching down in front of the confused blond. He extended a gloved hand and clicked his fingers several times directly in front of Yohji's face. "Lange nicht gesehen, Yue."

Yohji frowned at the barrage of foreign words, unable to understand what was being said. "Who are you?"

There was another short pause, before the waiter pulled his companion away from Yohji causing the man to sprawl across the floor. "Hör auf. Er kann uns nicht verstehen." Ignoring the death glare being directed at him by the strangely dressed man, the waiter turned to face Yohji and folded his arms. "I suppose expecting an answer if I talk in Japanese isn't too much to ask, mon ami?"

"Who…?"

The man waved a hand dismissively. "You can call me Pan. My companion goes by the name of Legion. I regret the use of the restraints, but they were a necessary precaution for us. You have quite a reputation, mon cher."

Yohji frowned at the smiling man. "You know who I am?"

"Oui, of course. You could say we have somewhat of a history, but for now let us simply say that we would like you to come with us."

Yohji tried to force his brain into a faster mode of operation and suddenly jolted as a thought flicked into his head. "Ran!"

"Ran?" The two men exchanged looks, before Pan turned back to face Yohji with a questioning look. "Do you mean the redhead you were with? We've locked him up somewhere out of the way so you don't have to worry about any interference from that one or his masters."

Yohji pulled hard against the handcuffs, desperate to check on the man's condition for himself when the foreigner's words began to register. "What are you talking about? Ran just works at the hospital where I wound up, he has nothing to do with whatever it is you're after. Let him go!"

From his still somewhat sprawled position on the floor, Legion snorted in disgust. "Listen to him." Leaning forwards, the man waved a solemn finger at the emotional blond. "I got two words for you, Yue. Stockholm. Syndrome."

"Stop calling me that!" Yohji snapped angrily. "My name is Kudoh Yohji. I have no idea who this 'Yue' person is, but he isn't me!"

"This is what happens when you mess around with redheads, you think you'd have learnt your lesson by now," Legion muttered before a glare from Pan forced him into a sullen silence.

Turning away from the sulking man and crouching in front of Yohji, Pan held up a hand in a silence request for calm. "Please ignore Legion, he has a tendency to speak his mind. Always unfortunate when the least sane have the most to say, wouldn't you agree?" Pausing for a moment, Pan tilted his head away from Yohji, obviously thinking over his next few words. "The 'Yue' my companion keeps referring to is someone we both knew. We thought he died eleven years ago, but now we're not so sure."

Yohji narrowed his eyes. "I'm not him."

Pan shrugged. "Perhaps, but either way you appear to have merited your own watchdog so we couldn't help but be interested." His grey eyes narrowed as he looked closely at the man in front of him. "Did you never wonder why you alone seemed to gain so much of his attention? How he could possibly spend so much time with you and also see to his other patients? I suggest you take a look in the hospital files. See how many other patients he has, how many others he has had in the past. Then I suggest you ask him for the truth. If he really is your friend, he might even tell you." The European sighed slightly and rose to his feet, turning to offer a hand to Legion, who stubbornly refused the help in standing up. "We have to go now, but we'll be back soon."

Legion paused, allowing his partner to leave the room first before turning to glare at Yohji. "You can deny it all you want, but you're Yue. The dead surround you and their voices will wear you down eventually. Then you'll remember what you really are."

Yohji watched him leave, keeping his face carefully neutral until he was sure that both of the men were long gone. Then he gave into the urge to let his head fall forwards and squeezed his eyes shut. This was insane, it made no sense, he told himself firmly. But a stubborn part of his mind was trying to insist that it made perfect sense in regards to Fujimiya's behaviour. The way he had acted so cold and distant in the beginning, yet had been around Yohji all the time like his own personal, glaring shadow. The way the redhead would tense or freeze up every time Yohji touched him. Yohji shook his head violently. Ran was just introverted; it had taken him some time to warm to the blond - that was all. The last few days had seen the man start to act in a far more friendly way … hell, just a few hours ago the redhead had been doing his damnedest to get into Yohji pants. The two foreigners were trying to play with his head, make him doubt the other man and agree to go with them. Yohji felt his resolve tighten as he raised his head and began to look around the room again.  He could worry about Fujimiya's motives later. First he had to get out of here and find the other man.

A glance behind him revealed the handcuffs to be fastened around a protruding pipe and several tugs at the bindings confirmed that neither handcuffs nor aforementioned pipe were likely to give way any time soon. The room he was in was made of featureless concrete and had only one small window high up on the wall above his head. It was little more than a grating, and served to confirm Yohji's theory that he was in an underground basement. The light in the room was gloomy at best, the majority coming from the corridor outside which, judging from the footsteps and low voices, was guarded in the absence of the two gaijin. Yohji let his head despondently fall forwards onto his chest.

He had no idea how long he sat there, but the passing headlight beams from a car fell briefly through the window and made something on the floor reflect the sudden sweep of light. Yohji raised his head slightly and squinted at the ground in front of him. Sitting on the ground, a short distance in front of him was a small metallic object. The blond felt his mouth go dry as he recalled that being the exact place the strangely dressed Legion had fallen. Was it actually possible that the fall had caused the man to drop his keys on the floor, an accident that had gone unnoticed by either of the Europeans? Green eyes narrowed in suspicion. The hell it was. This was a trap. Admittedly, seeing as they already had Yohji pretty much captured and at their mercy, the blond couldn't immediately think of a particular point to it. And it had been a long night; he was willing to go a little on faith this one time.

Sliding forwards as much as the handcuffs at his back allowed him, Yohji stretched out one long leg and brought his heel down on his potential means of escape. The clinking sound as his foot made contact seemed to confirm that the hard to discern object was indeed a set of keys. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, Yohji slowly dragged the keys closer to where his restrained hands could reach. His fingers found themselves in contact with a small ring containing six different keys. Two of which were much smaller than the others and by Yohji's deduction, therefore the keys to both his and Ran's handcuffs. Actually manoeuvring the keys into position and trying them in the lock took a lot more skill and effort, but finally, Yohji heard a quiet snap and was able to pull his arms away from the wall.

The next few minutes were spent massaging his abused wrists and fighting off a severe attack of pins and needles no doubt brought on by the sudden activity in his wrists and hands. Yohji took the time to listen closely to the sounds emanating from beyond the door. Unless there were several guards sitting completely still and therefore unable to be heard, it sounded like the blond only had about three men to worry about. Yohji paused to roll his eyes. Perhaps that fact would be more of a comfort if he was a secret black belt, but as far as Yohji knew, the closest he had ever come to a real fight was getting his arse whipped on Tekkan 4. No, he was going to have to play for stealth on this one.

Creeping over to the door as quietly as possible, Yohji cautiously peered through the keyhole. All he could see was another room, much the same as the one he was currently in. The entrance must either be out of his somewhat limited line of sight or currently obscured by the two guards that were standing to the left. Yohji swore mentally. There was no way short of a miracle he was going to get this door opened without being immediately spotted.

For lack of a better plan, Yohji remained at his post next to the door, trying to think of an alternate route out of his cell. His calf muscle began to spasm from the enforced stay in the crouched position and Yohji turned away from his spy-hole to massage the muscle. He therefore only heard the sudden outbreak of yelling quickly followed by the sound of running footsteps. "His watchdog's just woken up and isn't too happy. I need some help restraining him, he's a vicious little sod."

Yohji's head snapped up, instantly going back to the keyhole just in time to see the two guards moving to help their unseen companion. One of them muttering as he passed; "And that French bastard said the one we needed to watch was the blond. Last time I listen to pillocks like him."

The minute the room was silent, Yohji seized his chance and hurriedly tried the larger keys in the lock. The second one fit and he was able to silently swing the door open before shutting it behind him. No sense in advertising his escape before he was well clear of the place after all. Raised voices, yells and banging were clearly coming from down the passage to his left that was littered with doors on alternating sides. Yohji could see the furthest door on the left was standing ajar: obviously where Ran was being held. Now all he had to do was think of someway of getting the guards away from the cell so he could get the redhead out. After a few moments of thought, Yohji hurried over to one of the other closed doors and began to try his keys in the lock. Maybe he could hide in one of these rooms until the guards gave up on Ran and left him with the chance of making a break for the unwatched room.

With yet another miraculous stroke of luck, Yohji was able to find a key that fitted the lock and slipped into the room as quietly as possible. He shut the door behind him and glanced around at his surroundings. Another bland basement storage room; this one just as empty as the one he'd woken up in. Was a weapons storage room really too much to hope for? At least a broom or even a mop would have been some help; it wasn't like he was asking for an AK-47.

Footsteps outside the door directed Yohji's mind back to the matter at hand. The guards were exiting Ran's cell, muttering about violent redheads. Yohji listened to them pass and when all was quiet, cautiously cracked the door open. Whatever they had done to Ran had left the guards confident of no more distraction from his cell, it seemed, for all three of them were now lounging around the far end of the passageway where they no doubt thought the blond was still residing.  Yohji frowned to himself and shut the door once more. While he had been wanting the guards to move away from where Fujimiya was, he was still unable to make a break for his friend without being clearly visible.

Another sudden outbreak of cursing and running footsteps startled Yohji and sent the blond back once again to his eavesdropping position. It soon became clear what was going on. The guards after subduing Ran wanted to make sure Yohji wasn't going to regain consciousness any time soon and instead had found his empty cell. The immediate conclusion had been the blond had made a break for freedom while they were otherwise engaged with the redhead and was now on his way to get help. Yohji listened in barely concealed amusement as three sets of footsteps charged past his door, intent on reaching the blond before he got out of the building.

When all was quiet again, Yohji casually opened the door and sauntered over to Fujimiya's room. Trying to suppress the urge to start whistling and really pushing his luck, he found the correct key and pushed the door open. Closing it behind him lest the guards suddenly caught a clue, Yohji turned and immediately felt his good mood vanish.

Ran was slumped against the far wall and as far as Yohji could see, out cold. Judging from his bruised appearance, the guards had simply beaten the man into unconsciousness rather than risk another dose of whatever drug they had used the first time around. Crossing over to the redhead, Yohji anxiously went to Fujimiya's injured side and cautiously lifted up his shirt while praying that this was not going to be the moment Ran rejoined the living. With a sigh of relief, Yohji noted the bandages were clean and the wound didn't appear to have reopened. The injuries were mainly around Ran's face and head; Yohji guessed he'd been kicking out at anyone who tried a blow to his body. Yohji quickly unlocked the handcuffs pinning the redhead in place and sighed as he studied the pale man's profile. "You know," he remarked conversationally. "When I made that crack earlier about carrying you to bed, this wasn't quite what I had in mind." He looked at Fujimiya again and tried to focus on a plan for getting out of here with the unconscious man in tow. With a vague frown, Yohji rubbed at his head. It was suddenly getting hard to think. Instead of dissipating with the reassurance that Ran was going to be okay, if somewhat bruised, the anger Yohji had felt at first entering the cell seemed to be increasing exponentially. His breathing echoed raggedly in his head, yet the blond couldn't think for a moment how to calm down, let alone anything as complicated as leaving the cell. Perhaps the drugs they'd used on him were still having more of an effect than he'd thought.

However Yohji's luck for the evening seemed to have finally run out. No sooner had the blond lowered his hand than the guards from earlier stormed into the cell, yet for some reason, Yohji couldn't seem to hear the clattering of their footsteps. His mind seemed to only be registering the strangest noise that sounded like a telephone ringing a long way away. Yohji glanced up at the guards, only dimly aware of their presence as his consciousness focused instead on the sudden feelings of lethargy that were moving through his mind. Everything seemed to be sinking into slow motion. He felt himself rise to his feet as the three armed men began to close in, yet couldn't for the life of him work out just how he was managing to move when he felt so distant from the proceedings. His mind seemed to cease functioning, picking up only the most basic information of what was going on around him.

Action. Violence. Blood.

Then even that much awareness left him and something else seemed to take over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sudden throbbing in his temples was the most warning Crawford got as the interior of the bar was rapidly replaced with a large expanse of open ground in what appeared to be the industrial area of the city. The four current members of Schwarz were being attacked by Void, that redheaded swordsman who should have died a year ago and two other young men, a blond boy who didn't look a day over seventeen and a brunette who couldn't have been much older. As Crawford fended off a vicious sword thrust from the redhead, his gaze strayed to his left where Schuldig stood with his gun raised at Void, mirroring their former member's stance. The German's eyes flicked over to meet the American's and a brief smirk crossed his face, before the telepath tossed his gun to the side. Void's weapon fired at almost the same moment and Mastermind fell slowly backwards to collapse to the ground.

Crawford felt his vision swim slightly at the force of the headache as his thoughts returned to the present and irritably gestured for the waitress to bring him another drink. He removed his glasses while he waited and rubbed his hands tiredly across his eyes. The same damn vision every time and if Janus hadn't been lying, there was less than two months to ensure it didn't happen. The American opened his eyes to glare at the table surface beneath him. The head of the Delphic Unit was holding something back about the event, he knew that much, but he couldn't work out what else the other man could have seen. Perhaps the reason behind the smirk on Schuldig's face as he deliberately threw away his gun in the face of an enemy, the part of the vision that disturbed Crawford the most. Oh sure the German had been moodier than usual lately, and probably didn't even realise the Schwarz leader had noticed, but the man still seemed a long way from effectual suicide. What in hell could prompt the redhead to such a stupid act?

A glass of whiskey was slid in front of him, breaking the American out of his thoughts as the server slid into the seat across from him. Crawford looked up and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Aside from the usual comments about consorting with the enemy, aren't you still too young to be working in here, Mika?"

The girl sitting opposite him stuck her tongue out as she brushed back the stray strands of hair that fell around her face in multi-coloured bangs. "Turned eighteen last month. So there."

Crawford turned his attention back to his drink. "As mature as ever."

"And you're the just the same anal bastard," Mika shot back in an amused voice. She paused for a moment, propping her chin on one hand while the other idly spun a strand of blue hair around her finger. "The others don't know I'm here, but I figured I ought to let you know we have Void."

"Then you should know that we won't let you keep him."

A petulant frown crossed the girl's face as she slumped back in the seat and folded her arms across her chest. "Can't you just do the decent thing for once in your life? Forget about Esset's orders and leave him to us."

Crawford sipped at the whiskey. "I can't do that. My team is at stake."

Another snort from the teenager sitting opposite revealed her to be unimpressed. "Your reputation is at stake, is what you mean. You couldn't care less about the others."

"Are you claiming to be a telepath now, Mika?"

The teenager glared at Crawford through narrowed eyes. "If Esset's opinion of Schwarz wasn't your only worry, you wouldn't be doing this. If you really cared about Sascha and Yue, you would have never made them join Schwarz in the first place."

Brad drained his whiskey and replaced the glass on the table before raising his gaze to meet that of the girl sitting opposite him. "Do I really need to remind you that neither of the pair answers to those names anymore?"

Mika huffed. "I won't call him Schuldig because what happened was your fault, not his. I don't care what crap you and Esset told him."

"What touching loyalty." Crawford allowed a smile to spread across his face. "Now if you could only show the same dedication to your own team instead of a man who is technically now your enemy."

Glaring sullenly at the smirking man across from her, Mika reached out and grabbed a handful of sugar from the small bowl at the end of the table. Appearing to pause for a moment, she smirked at the impassive American. "If you're not careful, we'll claim back Sascha too, after all he belongs to us." Crawford closed his eyes in feigned boredom in response and when he opened them, Mika's brightly coloured hair was nowhere to be seen in the crowds around him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On arriving back at the apartment, Crawford was surprised to find the silent figure of the telepath sitting in the living area staring out the window. A lit cigarette was balanced between two fingers, but from the long column of ash that hadn't been flicked away, it was clear that the German had all but forgotten about the item. The Oracle paused at the unusual sight, his earlier conversation with Mika still ringing in his head and combining to form an uncharacteristic pang of something curiously akin to guilt. Crawford scowled at the emotion and quickly directed his anger towards the still oblivious telepath. "What are you still doing in here? Shouldn't you be out trying to sink even lower in the eyes of society?

Schuldig turned to look at Crawford, the movement jolting his hand and causing a large lump of ash to fall onto the expensive carpet. Disregarding both the mess and the way Crawford's eyes narrowed at the smouldering dirt, the German allowed an unpleasant smirk to spread across his face. "Even scum like me needs a night off every once in a while, Brad. And in any case, it seemed like you were doing such a good job in covering for me, I felt my absence wouldn't be missed for one night"

Pressing his lips tightly together at the thinly veiled insult, Crawford turned away and removed his suit jacket. "I have a task for you that I'd like you to start as soon as possible."

Rising to his feet only to lean against the wall in a pose of studied nonchalance, Schuldig glared at Crawford. "If it's another request to hunt down Void, forget it. The guy's off the mental radar so do something useful yourself and have a bloody vision to sort out collection arrangements."

Continuing to calmly fold and place his jacket down on the couch, Crawford sat down next to it. "Hunt appears to already have him, at least for now. I have a slightly different course of action in mind. Do you recall your little discovery about our sullen swordsman?"

Beginning to rise out of his self-imposed mood enough to get interested, the German idly tugged on an overlong strand of orange hair. "How is he going to help us in getting Void away from the Abtrünnigen? You going to just ask nicely or something? That stubborn bastard seems very insistent on keeping hold of Void."

Crawford permitted himself a small smile. "That is why I am going to offer him a trade. For something he holds even more important than Void. But I'll need you to do a little groundwork for me."

Schuldig raised an eyebrow. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"There's someone I want you to get in contact with."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Coldness. Liquid falling on his face. Rain? Yohji felt himself frown and forced open his eyes. He was sitting on the cold concrete pavement of the alleyway outside the flower shop, slumped against the wall. Drizzle was falling lightly on his exposed face and hair. Yohji began to raise a hand to wipe it away only to find his arm pinned in place by the silent redhead propped against his side. Ran was still out cold and Yohji blinked at the man a couple of times before turning his confused gaze back to the alley itself. What the fuck was going on? How did he get here? Yohji raised his free arm to brush his hair out of his face and froze again at the sight of the limb stained a deep red colour. Glancing down at himself, the blond realised he was virtually soaked in blood. And none of it was his.

Fighting a losing battle against the rising panic, Yohji turned and virtually clung to Fujimiya as he pulled both of them to their feet. His body had started shaking, deep jerking spasms that threatened to send him completely off balance. Yohji buried his face in the crook of Ran's neck before lurching towards the apartment. Just get inside, he told himself. Ask questions later, but first just get inside. Don't think about anything else.

The apartment was completely silent as Yohji entered; Ken and Omi were obviously fast asleep. Somehow, Yohji made his way up the stairs to his room and deposited the redhead on the bed. He didn't even want to think about dealing with Ran's inevitably locked door in his current state. After pulling Ran's boots off and making sure the redhead was lying comfortably, Yohji drew the blankets up around the silent form and began to pace around the room. He had to keep busy, find something to take his mind off what was wrong with him. He glanced at the redhead lying in the bed again and frowned, his mind going back to the conversation he'd had with the Frenchman who'd started this whole thing. He'd been certain that Ran wasn't the medical student he claimed to be, had said that it was just a cover and the redhead was really there to watch Yohji. Watch him for what? For circumstances like this?

Yohji paced some more. Then suddenly he remembered about the basement, the room that was kept off-limits as it was 'where Ran does all his medical work'. Surely that would be where he could find proof that everything that Pan had said was a lie? Biting his lower lip, Yohji turned and made his way out of the room towards the steps that would take him down into the basement. He'd show that fucking bastard. Whatever else he had to worry about right now, Ran's loyalty was not in question. He had faith in the redhead.

Yohji found the lights for the basement at the top of the flight of stairs that lead down into the room. He flipped the switch and glanced down into the interior. Couch, widescreen television, a low table and a computer terminal sitting in the corner. The blond made his way down the stairs, glancing around as he did so. The room was spacious and sparsely decorated: functional, nothing more. Just what he'd expect from Fujimiya, even if he couldn't see piles of medical texts lying anywhere. This was the modern age though; it was probably all stored on the computer. Yohji made his way over to the terminal, only to bang his foot against something lying on the floor. He glanced down and saw a sheathed katana lying at his feet.

With a frown Yohji knelt down and picked up the object, sliding the weapon a couple of inches out of the protective sheath. The blade glinted at him, wickedly sharp and from the scratches, well used. His hands clenched unconsciously on the katana, before Yohji forced himself to relax. It was just for practising, a way to relieve stress. God knows the redhead would be just the type to bottle everything up and then need to take out all that aggression somehow. Nothing out of the ordinary. The blond replaced the sword and raised his eyes to see a leather coat hanging on the far wall. From the size, it had to be Fujimiya's, and Yohji wondered just where the redhead would wear such a combination of black leather and buckles. Without really being aware of it, he crossed over to the garment and ran his hand gently along the material. It dipped into one of the deep pockets and halted as it came into contact with something soft and silken. With a growing sense of numbness, Yohji slowly raised his hand to find strands of long hair clenched between his fingers. They were a golden honey blond in colour and slightly wavy. Yohji let them fall to the ground without even bothering to glance at the bangs that fell forward, obscuring his eyes. He knew whom that hair belonged to.

//Say, you're not someone I knew from before the accident, are you? And are trying to suck up to me while I still can't remember that you stole my girlfriend or something?//

That just left the computer. Yohji turned to look at it, feeling his jaw harden. Did he really want to see what was stored away in there? Before he'd even finished the thought, Yohji was at the terminal, punching the power button with far more force than was necessary and causing the unit to wobble on its stand. The screen flickered to life as the systems powered up and Yohji watched with an increasing feeling of distance. He placed his hands lightly by the keyboard as he waited to find out just how deep the betrayal went.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The last two gentlemen who stepped off the recently arrived flight from Germany seemed no different to the other assorted business men and frequent flyers that made up the First Class lounge. The expensively tailored suits appeared barely creased, despite the twelve hour flight and both men walked through customs with a determination and energy to their pace that the other passengers appeared to have lost somewhere over Russia. They were met by an equally well-dressed man and promptly made their way to a sleek black Mercedes. If anyone gave them more than a moment's attention, it was simply caused by envy of the obviously affluent Europeans.

Once inside the car, the oldest of the new arrivals removed his suit jacket and glared at the man behind the wheel. "Tell me, Janus, why is the blind man driving the car?"

"In Tokyo's traffic, not being able to see the driving of those around you is a definite advantage, Melmoth," Janus replied calmly as he pulled into the busy flow of cars that swarmed around the airport. "Besides, I am the only one capable of remembering you drive on the left here."

"As amusing as it is to hear you bicker like children, we are here for a reason," the third man commented in a bored tone. "Janus, have you seen anything further on the Schwarz situation?"

"It's as we suspected," Janus replied. "With Void's absence, Mastermind is showing signs of dissension. Regardless of Schwarz's success in regaining Void, steps will have to be taken to deal with the telepath before he causes the whole group to be affected."

"I knew it," Melmoth muttered. "That one was trouble from the beginning. We should have done this years ago." He glanced at the third man accusingly. "Gil-Martin should have done this years ago."

"His talent is remarkable though. I felt that outweighed any case of teenage rebellion," the man commented in the same uninterested tone. "Obviously his dislike of authority was not something he grew out of. But I am a telepath, not a pre-cog, you can't expect me to know these things."

Janus smiled without warmth. "Even the Delphic Unit had trouble reading the future of that one, he spent far too much time hanging around with Void while his talent was still active. Crawford has seen some of the telepath's future, but not all of it. He knows only that the man will let himself be shot by Void should he not return to Schwarz."

Melmoth and Gil-Martin traded glances before the telepath leaned forwards and raised an eyebrow. "Indulge us for a moment, Janus. What was the rest of the vision?"

Janus told them and all three men laughed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ran awoke slowly, becoming aware that the bed he was lying in was far too soft to be his own. He frowned and hissed as the muscles in his face chose that moment to make their bruised state known. Hazy memories of the evening began to surface in his mind. Going to the club with Yohji and beginning to feel extremely light-headed after the first few drinks. Dancing pressed close against the taller man and … oh god. The last thing he could remember with any real certainty was very definitely coming onto the blond. He hadn't…? They hadn't…?

Ran cautiously moved an arm out to the side only to encounter an empty bed. In addition, he still seemed to be fully dressed. The alcohol must have made him pass out and Yohji carried him home. Ran bit back a groan. He was never going to live this one down.

"You're awake then."

Ran's eyes blinked fully awake at the sound of Yohji's voice. There was something wrong, the blond never sounded that cold and distant. Wondering why he was feeling so panicked at the change in the other man's demeanour; Ran worked himself up onto his elbows and then sat up.

Yohji was sat against the wall opposite the end of the bed, staring at Ran with green eyes full of an expression Ran didn't want to identify. His knees were drawn up and hugged into his chest and the man seemed to be covered in blood. Instantly Ran was full of concern and flung the blankets off in his hurry to get to the other man's side. "Yohji, what the hell happened? Are you hurt? Let me look at you."

He had barely gotten off the bed when a glare from the blond stopped him dead. It was full of anger and not a little bitterness. "I found out two things last night," Yohji said; each word sharply defined through the effort of preventing emotion seeping into his speech. "I can't trust you."

The words hit Ran like a physical blow and he sagged onto the bed unable to look away from the reproach on Kudoh's face. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologise, to try and explain, but nothing came out. He simply sat watching Kudoh study his reaction.

The man gave a slight smile, a bitter twisting of one side of his mouth. "But that wasn't the only thing I found out." Yohji broke off suddenly, looking away and gulping for breath as a shudder gripped his body. Ran made to go to him, but something stilled his movements. Yohji turned back and his face was tense with the effort his next words took. "I can't trust you and … and I don't think you can trust me."

That said, the blond's eyes slid closed and his head collapsed onto his knees. Ran sat on the bed and watched him, unable to think of any way to respond.

TBC

Translation of Legion/Pan dialogue:

Pan: Damn quiet.

Legion: Would you prefer a chorus?

Pan: Shut it. Has he woken up?

Legion: Not yet. The drugs should last a bit longer.

Legion: Awake at last! You're as lazy as ever, Yue.

Pan: And you said he hadn't seen you. My God (Pan's French)! You're supposed to be telepathic!

Legion: Kiss my arse. Long time no see, Yue.

Pan: Stop. He can't understand us.

Abtrünnigen – renegades, deserters.