Force of Habit: Chapter 10

Author's Note: Apologies for the abrupt ending of the last part but I suffer from the literary equivalent of an itchy trigger finger and having gone so long without casualties was making me somewhat tense. Which helped a little but still will probably not please those members of the Schuldig Schutz Bund who have been so vocal in their reviews. And as much as I love the feedback, sorry: if wishes were fishes I'd be eating sushi.

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//Initial reports from the scene are as yet unconfirmed, but the blast appears to be the result of a deliberately planted explosive attack. Despite this, no terrorist groups have stepped forward to claim responsibility for the attack which has shattered the tranquillity of this area of Tokyo and left hundreds dead with many more injured. Once again, reporting from the scene of the hospital bomb-//

Mika snorted in disgust and switched the television off. "Well?" she demanded. "Think we pissed them off enough?"

From the other side of the room, Odin raised his eyes from the stack of papers he was currently looking through to meet the teenager's gaze for a few moments. Then he returned the focus of his attention to the printed words before him. "If that had been the sole purpose of the exercise, simple vandalism would have sufficed."

Footsteps indicated that Legion had finally emerged from his room in order to catch the end of Odin's words. Hunching into his usual huddle on the spare chair in the room, he paused to glower at the Hunt leader before tucking most of his face beneath his arms. "Vandalism, aye that's fucking right. We could have just blown the bloody doors off."

Odin regarded Legion with poorly disguised irritation, obviously about to respond in a scathing manner, when Pan quickly cut in. "So, mes amis, what is our next step? Do we attempt to reopen a link with Yue, or bide our time until we know how the dust settles?"

Successfully diverted from the sullen Scot, Odin gave the words careful consideration. "Any overt move on our part to obtain Yue would certainly not be a wise idea right now. His protectors will be on their guard and expecting some sort of abduction attempt. However it would be equally unadvisable to simply sit back and allow them to recover their equilibrium. I think some subconscious reconnaissance may be our most favourable option at this point in time."

"One problem with that," Pan cautioned with a frown. "Arachne's been a very dominant presence over the past few weeks, hence our failure to continue with the dreamlinks. We have no way of avoiding getting snared in her little webs as long as she's searching for us."

"Or would have, if the explosion didn't have Arachne expanding all her energy on tracking Yue. He was due in the hospital shortly before it exploded and of course, being resistant to the usual tracking methods, the only way to establish his whereabouts will be through the dispatch of Weavers. Hence Arachne will have already used much of her power leaving the way clear for us to open a link with Verdandi." Odin curled one corner of his mouth up in what could have been a smirk. "In addition, Verdandi should have regained some strength during her absence."

"Enough strength to ward off another attempt at the Void persona to re-establish control?" Legion asked acidly. "The problem with dealing on such a subconscious level is you have no way of controlling the surroundings. Should the remnants of what was essentially Void be successful in regaining control, you'll have lost your chance at Yue permanently."

"But Yue's not Void!" Mika protested loudly. "Void was something he was forced to be; now that Yue's back, Void has no reason to re-emerge." The teenager darted anxious eyes about the room before landing on Pan. "Void's gone," she stated again, but the quaver in her voice revealed her words to be the question they really were.

Sighing, Pan walked over to Mika and dropped onto the seat next to her. "It's not that simple ma chere," he explained. "Whether Void was a genuine part of Yue or not, it was the persona he was for almost eleven years. That's bound to leave its mark on the guy."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Yohji! We came as soon as we heard! Are you alright?" Omi's frantic voice managed to cut through the chaotic hum of the over-crowded medical ward. Looking up from his hard-won plastic seat, Yohji saw the familiar blond head with Ken not far behind and waved the pair over. Omi redoubled his efforts to fight his way through the thick crowd of people and eventually was able to stand in front of Yohji, breathing heavily from the effort.

Yohji looked at the young blond's flushed face and felt his lips twitch into a grin. "You look more in need of treatment than me," he observed wryly and gestured to the oxygen tank beside him. "Help yourself."

Omi pouted slightly and tried to look disapproving. "If you're supposed to be on oxygen, why aren't you wearing your mask?"

Yohji shrugged. "I figured with all the smoke that was already in my lungs, one little cigarette wouldn't make that much difference."

Omi's face went purple. "What?! You can't smoke! That's pure oxygen! You'll blow us all up!" Suddenly realising what he'd said, Omi stuttered to a halt, looking around nervously. "Uh … did I say that too loudly?"

Yohji waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Ran took all my cigarettes anyway." The older blond ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly as the numerous cuts and bruises made their presence known. "He's still in there. We both escaped the main blast with little more than a few cuts from shrapnel, but then the guy went charging off into the wreckage before I could stop him." Yohji's hand fluttered at his side for a moment or two in a fruitless hunt for a cigarette before clenching into a fist. "They sedated him in the end, it was the only way they could get him treated."

"Omi, you could have waited," Ken protested as he finally emerged from the scrum to join his two housemates. "How did you manage to get through all those people so easily anyway?"

Omi turned to face the dark-haired man, opening his blue eyes wide. "How could you say no to a face like this?" he exclaimed, before dropping back to a more serious expression. "Yohji's okay, but they had to sedate Ran."

Ken nodded gravely. "I'm not surprised though, he must be frantic about his sister. She hasn't been found yet, but they're saying the wreckage could take days to clear. I don't know how this is going to affect Ran's work back at the hospital, I mean, he did most of it so he could keep on his sister, right?" Ken's voice trailed off as he became aware of the twin stares he was receiving. "What?"

"Ran has a sister?" Omi asked slowly. He watched Ken nod with a carefully controlled expression. "And she was in the hospital when the blast went off?" Another nod answered him.

Yohji leaned forwards, taking over the questioning. "And you've known about this sister for a while?" Ken's nods began to take on a slightly hesitant edge, as though he had suddenly become aware of the fact that his news was not going down well. Ken's suspicions were confirmed when Yohji suddenly surged to his feet, causing the athlete to hastily back-pedal. "So why didn't you ever mention it to us?"

"I thought you both knew!" Ken protested. "And it's kind of personal, if Ran thought I was gossiping, he'd kill me."

Omi shook his head slightly. "Fair point, but how did you of all people find out?"

Ken smiled nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "Remember when I pulled a hamstring playing football with the kids and needed Physio? The therapist was really friendly and we got talking. When I mentioned one of my housemates worked here, she recognised the name as also belonging to one of her patients. She never said what was wrong with her, but I looked her up before I left. Kid's in a coma and has been for a while, not likely to ever wake up. Kritiker are subsidising her care in return for Ran's work at the hospital."

Omi and Yohji exchanged looks. "Well that goes some of the way to explaining the guy's personality," Yohji muttered at last. "I can't believe he's managed to keep something like that from us."

"I can," Omi objected. "Ran doesn't exactly welcome personal conversations."

"Or even conversations in general," Ken added helpfully, obviously trying to win back favour. "Apart from you, Yohji, the most any of us can usually get out the guy is a one word answer or grunt."

A fresh flurry of activity broke up the conversation and the three men looked over to the entrance where several more stretchers were being unloaded. Craning his neck to see over the numerous milling patients and staff, Omi suddenly clutched at Ken's sleeve. "It's Birman! She's uninjured! Maybe she knows what's going on."

Yohji smiled at the glance Omi threw his way. "Hey, if you two want to check in with the boss then go ahead. I'm going to wait for Ran. He should be another hour or so, so I was going to kill time by heading across the road for a drink and a smoke." Shooing the two younger men in the direction of the newly arrived brunette, Yohji shot one last glance through the door at where Ran lay sleeping peacefully before heading out of the bustling chaos and back into the slightly more ordered streets of Tokyo.

Yohji wasn't overly familiar with this particular district, the only hospital he could remember visiting was currently smoke and ruins and so he didn't really feel like straying too far. Knowing Ran, the redhead was going to wake up ahead of schedule and would only be too happy to berate Yohji for wandering off to get drunk. Glancing down the street, Yohji noticed a cluster of tables and chairs arranged on the pavement in what had to be a outside seating area for a bar or restaurant of some kind. As good a place as any to wait for Fujimiya, and one that would also allow him to spot that distinctive head of hair should the man be in one of his more independent moods.

More or less decided, Yohji set off towards his goal, pausing only to duck into a newsagent on the way and pick up a packet of cigarettes. He immediately pulled one from the packet and sparked up, drawing a deep breath in that he released in a steady trail of wispy smoke. As Yohji approached the seating area, he saw that he was not the only one who had decided on a similar place to spend the pleasantly sunny afternoon. Crowds of people filled every table and inside the bar looked just as busy. Yohji sighed to himself and wandered inside the building in the hope that a spare seat might be hidden away in one of the corners.

It seemed he was in luck. As Yohji entered, his eyes spotted a vacant stool by the bar in the corner. A redheaded young man who didn't seem like he was expecting company, staring instead into a large glass of whisky, occupied the next seat along. Wanting to make sure, Yohji paused with a hand on the empty stool as he smiled at the man. "Is this seat taken?"

The sound of Yohji's voice make the man start, causing some of the whisky to slop over the edge of the glass as he whirled to stare at Yohji with wide green eyes. "What?" His voice carried faint inflections of a foreign accent, but Yohji was unable to pin it down as the man spoke flawless Japanese.

Raising his hands in apology, Yohji leaned slightly back. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. It's just that there doesn't appear to be anywhere else to sit and I was wondering if this seat was already taken?"

Rapidly appearing to come to his senses, the redhead frowned and turned back to his drink. "Go ahead."

Yohji flashed a winning smile at the other man and slid onto the stool. "Thanks."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sense of losing control of your own fate had always been a feeling that Schuldig hated, the thought of events around you spiralling towards an unknown future regardless of any actions taken to prevent it. In a certain sense, he'd known what his ultimate future would be from the moment Esset made his situation clear to him those eleven years ago. After all, hired killers, even ones with the additional party tricks he offered had a limited shelf-life in a very competitive market. Schuldig wasn't stupid; he was able to fit the pieces together. Esset were worried about their ability to keep him in line now that Void had been removed from the group dynamic. The Elders weren't in town to oversee the reclamation of Void; they were here to collect a telepath with an unhealthy disrespect for authority. And the vision of Schuldig's future involving an intimate meeting with a bullet from his ex-colleague provided those in charge with the perfect opportunity to ensure that one way or another Schuldig was out of their hair for good. Either dead or somewhere they could keep a better eye on him.

Eleven years ago the choice had seemed like a complete no-brainer. To choose between instant death or a delayed sentence wasn't something he'd been overly inclined to think through at such a tender age. Maybe things would have been different if he'd been an Oracle like Crawford and Asuka, he'd have known just what he was going to accomplish over the next decade. And he wouldn't have been so hasty to save his own neck at any price.

Past experience had proved that when the German's thoughts turned along this particular mien there was only one way to drown out those irritating voices at the back of his head: alcohol and lots of it. With an unconscious girl in the house and team members who were even more on edge than usual, it hadn't been much of a decision to head out and drink somewhere he could remain relatively uninterrupted. The bar he usually frequented was much busier than normal, due no doubt to the extra traffic at the hospital just up the road. It seemed Odin was now forgoing the more personal touch of assassination in favour of big brand consumer driven terrorism. Schuldig watched the crowds of hospital visitors as they killed time slowly, waiting for news of friends or loved ones that may have escaped the blast. He found the whole scene fairly dull and not one he was actually in any position to form opinions on. After all, terrorist, freedom fighter, assassin, it was all just semantics at the end of the day. You could play your little name games but the word at the root of it all would remain the same: killer.

And that was something Schuldig didn't want to dwell on at this particular point in time, having just escaped from the rest of Schwarz for that very same reason. His solution had been to make his way inside the bar, away from the sunshine and crowded terrace area. Sliding into an empty seat, Schuldig resolutely blocked the sounds of the people around him and focused instead on emptying the contents of his whisky glass. Had he been paying more attention, he might have heard the footsteps that signalled the approach of another drinker; then again, maybe not. Yue always had been able to creep up on him.

"Is this seat taken?"

The whisky in Schuldig's glass slopped over the side at the sound of that voice as his hand instinctively began to grab for his gun. Then he remembered that he'd left his weapon behind and in any case, Void had never been one for chit chat and other pleasantries. He'd always favoured the direct approach of killing you with as little fuss as possible. Nevertheless as Schuldig whirled to confront a pair of green eyes that sparkled with more life than he'd seen for over a decade, the German was sure a little of his shock remained visible to see. "What?" he heard himself ask distantly, all the while staring in amazement at the man beside him.

Obviously noticing Schuldig's surprised reaction, Yue leaned backwards and raised his hands to convey apology, his face twisting into a grimace of regret that the blond normally had to fall back on at least once a day at Rosenkreuz. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. It's just that there doesn't appear to be anywhere else to sit and I was wondering if this seat was already taken?"

A voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like Crawford's was sternly lecturing the German on what a stupid idea this was and how his only course of action was to report to Esset and Schwarz immediately. Frowning as he defiantly pushed the voice to the back of his head, Schuldig turned back to his drink. "Go ahead."

Yue's face broke into a smile that seemed strange on a face Schuldig was so used to seeing as an emotionless mask. The blond slid into the empty seat, allowing Schuldig the opportunity to notice that his hair was much shorter. It prompted the ghost of a smile to dart across the redhead's face, in both Yue and Void's incarnations, attempts to cut the blond strands had been tantamount to suicide. Unaware of the cause of his neighbour's amusement, Yue simply flashed another grin at the man. "Thanks."

The barman wandered over to collect Yue's order and Schuldig used the opportunity to get himself another shot of whisky. He suddenly had the feeling he was going to need it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Normally Yohji had enough sense to leave his fellow drinkers to their own maudlin thoughts, especially when he had enough problems of his own to be distracted by, but something about the guy he was sitting next to was driving him nuts. Of course, suffering as he was from his particular recollective disorder, the answer was unlikely to suddenly spring into his head. And it wasn't just him, Yohji was sure of it. The other man's reaction had been a little intense to be purely accounted to surprise. Glancing at the redhead once again from the corner of his eye, Yohji noticed he was being treated to much the same look. With his best disarming grin, Yohji turned to face the foreigner. "This is going to sound so unbelievably cliché, but please bear with me. Do I know you from somewhere?"

The redhead gulped back the last of his whisky and signalled to the barman for another. "You're right," he commented with that slight accent. "That does sound unbelievably cliché."

Yohji caught the faint hint of humour hidden beneath the seemingly dismissive words and let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? But believe it or not, I am a bona fide amnesiac. I have absolutely no memories of anything past a couple of months ago."

Something akin to a smirk hovered about the redhead's lips. "Seriously? Not a thing?"

Yohji laughed again and shook his head. "Nope. It's like something out of a really bad movie, isn't it? So you'd let me know if we'd met somewhere before, right?"

The other man paused and studied Yohji closely with cat green eyes. Finally he leaned back slightly and shook his head. "Sorry, you just reminded me of someone I used to know. It gave me a bit of a shock."

Yohji raised an eyebrow. "Oh? It isn't someone who disappeared recently by any chance?"

The redhead shook his head. "No. He died. Eleven years ago or thereabouts."

Yohji blushed and looked down into his drink only to find it empty. "Sorry," he offered, cringing at how it sounded. The redhead, however, didn't seem to mind, but simply shrugged and waved a hand before getting the pair another round of drinks. Smiling in thanks as he accepted his glass, Yohji offered the stranger his hand. "I'm Yohji, by the way."

The redhead closed his hand around Yohji's briefly before letting it drop. "Call me Schu."

The pair sipped at their drinks in companionable silence for a moment or two before Yohji noticed the redhead's expression darkening once again. Keen to prevent the other man from lapsing into a negative mindset, Yohji cleared his throat. "So what brings you out to this bar today? Are you waiting for someone at the hospital too?"

Visibly jolted from his train of thought, Schu glanced askance at Yohji for a moment before shaking his head. "No. I came here to think. It seems like I'm headed for one of those weighing up the course of your life moments and I was wondering how I'd fair in the introspection."

Yohji pulled a face as he ordered a couple of beers for the pair of them, aware that with his head buzzing as it currently was, more whisky would only earn him an almighty ear-bashing from Ran. "You don't sound too confident about a positive outcome."

His drinking companion gave a short laugh and took a hefty swig of beer. "A few months ago, I'd have been fine, none of these doubts and crap. But all of a sudden this choice I made in the past seems to have come back to haunt me." He paused and tilted his head to one side, watching the bottled drink as he swilled it idly in one hand. "At first, it just seemed like a really messed up stroke of luck, but now I can't seem to get away from reminders of this decision I made so fucking long ago."

Yohji raised an interested eyebrow and leaned back slightly, making himself more comfortable and ceasing to merely slump over the bar. "Oh? What kind of decision?"

"The usual one made by stupid, love-struck teenagers. I completely screwed over a friend because I was so besotted with someone who didn't give two shits about me." Schu's grip tightened visibly on the bottle and he angrily gulped at the alcohol. "And now I look at where I am and I wonder how I could ever have been so fucking blind. I didn't gain anything by it, and I lost the closest friend I ever had."

"Didn't you ever try to explain things to your friend? If you two were that close, wouldn't he have forgiven you?"

Schu paused in bringing the bottle to his lips and instead set the drink back onto the counter. "I never got the chance. He's the one who died eleven years ago and it was all my fault." The redhead looked across at Yohji with a crooked smile. "Lately, it seems that I just can't escape from reminders of what happened and I can't help but wonder how things would have been different if I'd trusted my friend like I should have done."

Yohji sipped thoughtfully at his own beer before shrugged. "Sure, I can understand you feeling guilty, but you can't gain anything from letting yourself get beaten up over something like this. You were young and you made a mistake. And anyway, how do you know that things would have turned out any better if you'd trusted your friend? It's not like we can see the future."

Something in Yohji's words must have struck Schu as amusing, for he began to laugh quietly to himself as he drained the last of his beer. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Thanks for the drinks."

Yohji watched the other man rise to his feet and offered a warm smile. "Likewise. It was nice meeting you."

Schu nodded. "Be seeing you, Yue."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As he groggily returned to a relative state of wakefulness, Ran mused sourly to himself that he really was starting to get sick of hospitals. In fact that, along with waking up confused and stiff in beds belonging to blond brainwashing victims, Ran was really starting to miss his own room. It was quiet there, and peaceful. And Birman wasn't standing in the corner with a grim expression on her face.

Ran closed his eyes and levered himself up into a sitting position, using the change of posture as an excuse for the groan that slipped involuntarily past his lips. Birman didn't look convinced, but the brunette made her way over to his bedside with her usual air of efficiency. "You're finally awake, that's good. It appears we have a lot to discuss."

Cutting the woman off with the worst glare he was currently capable of, Ran deliberately ignored the large stack of papers held in the woman's hands. "Have you found Aya? Is she alive?"

Birman sighed and shook her head. "Searches are still on-going, but she is simply one of many that remain unaccounted for. The explosion virtually demolished the building, leaving us unable to reach the heavily secured basement levels from which Kritiker worked. As such, our intelligence at the moment has been reduced to virtually nil. In other words, we're flying blind."  Pausing to collect her thoughts, Birman suppressed her obvious frustration at the situation and flicked through her files. She came to a stop and cleared her throat. "Despite this, agents who were not present at the time of the blast have managed to assemble some information as to the cause of the disaster."

Ran raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell just how Kritiker's defences were so easily breached."

"They used the fire systems. The phoney replacement company must have been the group behind this. They removed all alarms and extinguishers, replacing them with dummy models filled with explosives and other incendiary substances. What the blast didn't destroy would therefore be consumed by the resulting fires, which any survivors would be powerless to fight."

In spite of himself Ran shivered. "So who's behind it? Schwarz?"

Birman pursed her lips and shook her head briefly. "We don't think so. It's completely at odds with their usual M.O. In addition, Manx mentioned being approached by a third party who were keen to gain control of Void. Manx turned them down and we believe this could simply be a demonstration of their intent meant to force us into submission." A moment's hesitation passed before Birman continued. "Manx is still unaccounted for. We believe she was in the basement levels at the time, so while there is a good chance she may have survived the blast, we remain unable to get to her."

Ran nodded. "So what happens now? Kritiker is all but immobilised."

"Precisely. We are in a severely weakened state right now. We need to focus our energies on rebuilding what was lost and so we can't afford to remain open to any more attacks."

Ran's eyes narrowed as he suddenly saw where the woman was headed. "This has something to do with Kudoh."

Birman matched Ran's gaze with unblinking determination. "He cannot reside with us any longer. We no longer have the resources to contain and observe his powers. Should they suddenly manifest, we will all be powerless. In addition, keeping Void makes us a continued target for these groups. Give him up. Either to Schwarz or the others."

Ran's hands clenched into fists. "No," he hissed. "Why give in to terrorism? Kudoh stays with me."

Birman threw her hands into the air in frustration, sending her documents fluttering about her in a snowstorm of reports. "Are you going to continue with this course of action? I understand that with your sister missing, you need someone to transfer your affections onto, but there are better options than fucking Void!"

"He's Kudoh Yohji now, as you've reminded me on so many occasions."

"Regardless, he cannot stay with you any longer. The chance of another attack is too high. Kritiker will not survive this."

Ran swung himself out of the bed and marched past Birman, pausing only once his hand was on the doorknob. Not turning to look at the brunette, he spoke into the door, in a low but fierce voice. "Then you would do best to leave well alone. Because Weiss will."

With that, Ran left the room, his head churning with thoughts. Weiss were effectively on their own from here on in; that much was painfully clear. He no longer had to worry about surveillance and interference from above, but equally, he and the rest of his team would be unable to make use of Kritiker's facilities – both medical and the intelligence resources. But without Kritiker's extensive amounts of information, anticipating the next attack on Yohji would be that much harder. Ran thanked his own obsessive planning for ensuring that both Ken and Omi would be able to handle themselves in a fight.

Looking up, he saw the other two assassins obviously waiting for him in the corridor. Marching up to them, he brushed aside the questions after his health with an urgent question. "Where's Yohji?"

Ken blinked at his abrupt tone and waved a hand in the general direction of the exit. "Said he was going to grab a drink while he waited for you to wake up. I don't think he went far."

"Are you okay?" Omi cut in, his large blue eyes positively brimming with concern. "I heard they had to sedate you."

Ran ignored him, focusing instead on Ken's answer. Brushing past the pair, he made his way towards the exit without so much as a backward glance. "I'd better go and find him then. I'll meet you back at the Koneko."

"Oi! Where do you think you're going? Oi! Prick!" Ken's voice followed Ran out onto the street; fading only once the automatic doors had swept shut behind him. Pausing to adjust his eyes to the sunlight, which seemed a stark contrast to the insipid overhead lighting of the hospital, Ran surveyed the street in both directions. He doubted Yohji would have been willing to walk too far and risk losing valuable drinking time, so the odds were the blond had chosen some kind of bar nearby. There appeared to be a likely candidate a short way down the road, Ran noted and briskly set off in the direction of the open air seating area.

As he neared his destination, there was no sign of that familiar head of blond hair amongst any of the patrons sitting out on the pavement. Undeterred, Ran made his way inside, brushing past an exiting gaijin to virtually collide with Yohji. The blond had been in the process of storming out, his eyes fixed on a point over Ran's shoulder. Not seeing the redhead, Ran was almost knocked off his feet, and had to grab onto Yohji's arms to regain his balance. "Yohji, hey! What is it?"

Abruptly realising who was stood in front of him, shaking him, Yohji immediately assumed an apologetic expression. "Sorry Ran, I didn't see you there."

Satisfied that Kudoh wasn't going to go running off, Ran released the blond and crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the blond. "That much is obvious." Tilting his head to the side, Ran softened his gaze as he noticed Yohji's distress. "What's wrong?"

Yohji paused then shook his head. "Nothing, just my mind playing tricks on me, I guess." Grinning, he threw an arm around Ran's shoulders and pulled the man into his side. "But don't think I don't appreciate the concern. So, what do you want to do now?"

Ran rolled his eyes. "Head home."

Yohji leered. "Oh really?"

"I could always just leave you here…"

"You wouldn't even dare. Ran? Hey, wait!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Schuldig paused in the doorway of the apartment, trying to work out what was different about the place. He was still there when Crawford walked past on his way to the kitchen. Seeing the German, Crawford stopped and looked at him impassively. "The elders left while you were out getting drunk. They are making contact with Arachne and should be back once they've confirmed the dispatch of Weavers."

Schuldig snorted as he shrugged out of his coat and made his way towards his room. "That explains it, and here I was thinking they changed the air freshener." Pausing in the hallway outside his room, Schuldig turned to find Crawford still standing in the same position, watching the German with an unreadable expression. With a roll of the eyes, Schwarz's Mastermind folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "Want something Bradley?"

There was a distinct flicker of annoyance in the American's expression, but it was quickly suppressed. "Aya is in your room, you'll have to use the couch."

"What? Why mine? Why not use Farfie's?"

"It would have taken too long to clean," Crawford answered.

Schuldig made a disgusted noise. "Fine. Whatever. Bradley." He was rewarded with that expression again and chose to push his small advantage. "What, Bradley? Something the matter, Bradley~"

"Stop calling me that!" After a few moments, Crawford spoke again into the surprised silence. "Do you really have to be so childish?"

Schuldig flipped his hair over his shoulder and smirked. "Got to get my kicks somehow, Crawford." With a glance at his firmly shut door, the German exhaled in a quiet sigh and began to pull his coat back on. "I'll be back late. Ring me if the precious needs waking."

Crawford's expression had morphed back into the unreadable one of earlier. "You're heading out again? You only just got back."

Schuldig glared at the man as he passed him on his way back to the door. "When did you become my mother, Crawford? I'm getting shot in a matter of days, let a dying man enjoy his last few hours."

To his surprise, Crawford reached out towards him. Expecting a blow, the German dodged backwards, but the American grabbed his arm instead. "Don't talk about it like it's so final," Crawford said in a low monotone. "It hasn't happened yet so we still have time to find another way."

With a sharp jerk, Schuldig pulled his arm free. "Think I don't know that, o mighty Oracle? It's just I don't think I feel much inclined to trust those Esset arseholes with saving my skin. They're glad for the chance to get rid of me and don't even think of insulting my intelligence by denying it."

Crawford stepped back; using his still extended arm to adjusted his glasses. "You're actually laying claim to having some intelligence now? Then I suggest you start using it."

Schuldig felt his features contort in a snarl and spun towards the door. "Whatever. Don't bother waiting up for me."

"I wasn't planning on it anyway."

Schuldig took care to slam the door extra hard on his way out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The hotel foyer was starting to grate on Yohji's nerves. Obviously lacking detailed knowledge of his mind's previous quirks, the blond still felt that if pressed, his subconscious could have come up with something a little more interesting and less corporate than this place. Not bothering to take in the detail of his surroundings this time, Yohji marched his way over to the familiar group crowded around one of the coffee tables. "Don't you guys have homes to piss off to? This is getting monotonous."

There was a distinct look of amusement on the faces of the young teenager and the French man, but the oldest of the group seemed unimpressed. "This is for your own good. You didn't seem to appreciate it when we attempted a more direct method of communication."

Yohji crossed his arms and did his best impersonation of a pissed off Ran. "Communication I would have been fine with. It was the drugging and kidnapping that hit a nerve."

"Dommage," Pan muttered with a hint of what could have been sarcasm. Seeing the look, he was being shot by the leader of the group, the Frenchman turned his attention back to Yohji. "Sadly the issue is no longer a mere attempt to gain your co-operation. You're being hunted, mon ami."

Yohji made a noise in the back of his throat. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Wheesht with the sarcasm, Blondie," the heavily clothed man in the corner muttered. "We're no' the only ones after ye."

Yohji blinked as he tried to decipher some of the man's more incomprehensible words. "Excuse me?"

"They've sent the Weavers out to track you down," the young girl informed him with uncharacteristic graveness. "Pretty soon, this whole city will be swarming with them and we won't be able to help you."

Yohji looked from face to face, unable to get over the feeling that he was still missing something vital. "Weavers? What the fuck's a Weaver?"

The elder woman, the only one Yohji had no memory of meeting in real life made a gesture with her hands. Looking down, Yohji saw that a long piece of red string was woven around her fingers in the familiar style of Cat's Cradle. "The Delphic Unit see the threads, but only the Weavers can manipulate them into the desired pattern." Holding her hands out to the girl beside her, the woman watched as the teenager correctly threaded her fingers through the tangle and lifted the web into her own hands. The woman glanced back at Yohji. "They follow the orders of Arachne, and they have been sent to ensure your capture."

Allowing the woman to retrieve the twisted thread, the teenager turned to Yohji with an earnest expression. "Please, you have to come with us. We can help you. We can stop Void from coming back."

Yohji stepped away from the group. "I don't want to be having this conversation. Not now and certainly not with you." Turning, he frowned as he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the corner of the lobby by the lifts. It was the redhead from the bar. He took a step in his direction, but a restraining hand closed about his wrist. He looked down into the troubled face of the girl.

"Don't leave the lobby, Yue, we can't control all aspects of this place. If you leave here, you'll be in danger."

Yohji gently pulled his wrist free. "I'll just have to take that chance."

He reached the lifts just as the doors nearest the redhead chimed and slid open. The man stepped inside without giving any indication that he was in the slightest bit aware of Yohji's presence. Curious, and not really having anything better to do; Yohji hurriedly stepped in after him. He wandered over to the far corner and watched the stranger turned to a bellboy and mutter "eleven" in a low voice.

The bellboy grinned, a disturbing sight on a face that lacked an eye. The remaining one glowed a malicious yellow colour as the doors slid closed once more. From somewhere on his uniform, the employee produced a large knife, with which he began to clean his fingernails. Aside from the soft scraping, the ride up was silent.

Yohji studied the slender redhead, trying to place the man in the fragments of memory he possessed. The long, orange hair was distinctive enough for Yohji to be reasonably confident that the man would stick in his memory. Unless he was a member of the assassin group he previously worked for. But then, wouldn't he have called him 'Void' not Yue?

The lights flicked up to the figure eleven. The lift lurched to a stop and the doors opened onto what seemed to be total blackness. Undaunted, the redhead stepped out of the lift and Yohji had little choice but to follow him. The air was cold and carried the damp smell that he had always associated with underground places. Yohji frowned at this, but pushed that fact to the back of his mind as he cautiously began to follow the other man.

For some reason, the lack of light made the man look a great deal younger. He walked with slow, yet purposeful steps; seemingly unaware of the uneven and slippery ground that Yohji stumbled on. Raising a hand to the wall in order to help him balance, Yohji recoiled when his hand brushed across wet stone, covered with patches of mud. Yohji glanced down the way he had come, but could see nothing but blackness. Of the elevator, there was no sign. Yohji sighed. "How do I get into these situations?" Then he cautiously glanced in the direction of the redhead.

The other man remained oblivious to his presence. His footsteps slowed and he turned to face an expanse of wall that appeared to have previously contained a door. Heavy boards were now slammed across it, preventing it from being used again. The redhead sank down into a seated position, his eyes trained fixedly on the collection of planks.

Yohji took a step towards it then paused. What he had originally taken for the sound of footfalls seemed to be actually the sound of someone banging on the wood. The hammering noise was clearly being made by a fist, and was slow and arrhythmic, a sign of fatigue from whoever was on the other side. As he came nearer he thought he could hear faint voices, further muffled by the thick layers of boards. It was impossible for Yohji to make out what was being said, but the redhead seemed to have unusually acute hearing, for he suddenly began to laugh – low and bitter at something that was murmured. The laugh silenced the noises on the other side of the planks and rang unpleasantly in Yohji's head. He raised his hands to his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

The sound abated and Yohji cautiously opened his eyes again. The redhead was gone, as were the covering planks. Clearly revealed to the blond was an old, warped door with a heavily rusted handle. Wondering if the man had disappeared inside, Yohji stretched out a hand to the door.

It swung open moments before his hand made contact with an almost unnatural silence. Yohji stepped closer to the doorway and squinted into the gloomy exterior. There was a room on the other side, but without windows or any other form of light. The darkness was so thick as to almost have a tangible presence. Yohji stepped onto the threshold and stuck his head inside. His eyes gradually began to adjust to the dark and he could make out a figure standing over something on the far side of the room. It turned to face him, hearing his entrance, and despite the length of hair that swung with the motion, Yohji thought the figure was that of a man. The man began to make his way towards Yohji, who began to back away for reasons he didn't quite understand. Groping in the gloom, Yohji's hand searched desperately for the door handle as the figure came ever closer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Yohji! How many times, I am not going to let you sleep off some drunken stupor on the couch. Especially not while you're lying on me!"

Blearily, Yohji opened his eyes at the sound of that acerbic voice and found himself inches away from Ran's flushed face. He appeared to have dozed off while watching TV and somehow contrived to fall onto the redhead in the course of his nap. Unable to resist the opportunity, Yohji caught Ran's lips in a quick kiss before pulling off. "Frustrated are we? It's okay Ran, I've still got plenty of energy."

The redhead scowled and stood up from the sofa. "Then you won't be needing any help in getting to your room. Goodnight, Yohji."

Struggling up after the redhead, Yohji's mood abruptly became more serious. "Wait a minute Ran, there's something I want to ask you."

Ran turned around, suspicion clear in his face. When he saw Yohji's expression, his features immediately became concerned. "Oh?" he asked softly. "What is it?"

Yohji swallowed and tried to think of the best way to phrase his thoughts. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. These guys that are after me, they were the ones behind the bomb blast, weren't they?"

Pain flickered across Ran's face at the mention of the incident, his mind no doubt turning to thoughts of his sister. With visible effort, the redhead pulled himself back together and focused on Yohji once more. "Very likely."

"And they're going to keep coming after me, aren't they?"

"Yes," Ran admitted with a touch of impatience. "What is your point, Yohji?"

Yohji took a deep breath. "I want you to help me train."

Violet eyes blinked at him in confusion. "What?"

Sighing, Yohji sank back down amongst the cushions of the sofa. "Look, I'm supposed to be this amazing fighter, but I can't remember any of it. If these guys attack again, I'm just going to be a dead weight around here. I don't want to be a burden on the rest of you. So help me get back in shape and remember some of this stuff."

Ran's face went completely blank as his eyes turned away from the blond. "No. Absolutely not."

"What?!" Yohji surged to his feet. "Why won't you let me help fight these people off?"

Ran turned back to face the blond, his eyes positively blazing. "I won't turn you into a killer."

"Are you mad? Or have you forgotten that I already am a killer?!" Yohji yelled.

Ran's hands curled into fists. "You don't have to be anymore," he bellowed back, his pale face flushing with emotion. "Don't you get it? You've got a second chance here. You can start over and make a different life for yourself!"

Yohji narrowed his eyes at the smaller man as he fought to get his temper back in check with little success. "Maybe I think keeping you alive is a little more important than my precious redemption! I'm not just going to sit back and watch these guys kill you, Ken and Omi when I could be helping!"

"No!" Ran screamed. "You can't. You start killing again and that's it. The blood doesn't just wash off, you know. I'm not going to willingly expose you to that."

Yohji threw his hands up in the air. "You already have! Take a look around, Ran. I'm still surrounded by death, the only difference is, I'm not the one doing the killing. I'm just watching everyone I know get hurt."

A long moment of silence stretched out between the two of them, then Ran spun on his heel and marched out of the room without another word. Yohji heard the man's footsteps and the sound of his door resolutely slamming shut. With a weary sigh, Yohji sagged onto the couch once more and dropped his head into his hands. "Nice going, Kudoh," he muttered. "Handled that real well."

From the direction of the kitchen came the sound of footsteps. "Yohji?"

With an inward groan, Yohji raised his head. "Hey, Ken. How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it," the other man admitted. He paused and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but you really should leave the fighting up to us. Even with your past, you've been out of practise for quite a while now, there's no telling how out of shape your body's become."

Yohji grinned wryly and allowed his head to sag back. "Thanks Ken. You calling me fat?"

A snort and then more footsteps as the athlete came closer. "Don't be so vain. Anyway, despite that, I still think you need to be able to protect yourself. I mean what if they come for you when we're not around to fight them off? It's ridiculous for Ran to refuse to even teach you defence. That's why I'm giving you this."

Something heavy dropped into Yohji's lap. Looking down, the blond saw a gun. Yohji raised his eyes to meet Ken's. "Thanks man."

Ken waved a hand, his expression still serious. "You let Ran find that and my life won't be worth living. But remember, it's just in case."

Nodding, Yohji's hands stroked the cool metal. "Sure. Just in case."

TBC