Cat's Cradle: Chapter Two

INCIDENTAL RAMBLING: I don't think I mentioned this earlier, but this fic will focus a lot more on Schuldig/Sascha and Yohji/Yue's friendship. There are even going to be some relationships developing in addition to that of Yohji/Ran, which should please those certain individuals who were demanding to know why Crawford had to be such a wanker to Schu and one person (who will remain nameless) who asserted that without so much sexual frustration, the likable characters would all easily be able to kick arse, save the day and shag like bunnies. To which I reply thus: ha, chance would be a fine thing. And once again, sorry that everybody seems to have at least two names … I know it's confusing.

Despite the fact that the season was only barely spring, with the promise of summer a long way off, the warm sun and clear skies had made the day pleasantly warm. Lounging on a chair, Sascha tilted his head back in order to feel the warmth of the rays on his face. The sound of a snort from across the table caused him to right himself and grin at the teenager sitting opposite him.

"You remind me of a cat," Yue informed him with his usual smirk. "Sunning yourself like that." The blond flicked his overlong hair away from his face and sniggered quietly. "You're vain too."

Not in the least bit concerned, Sascha haughtily readjusted his sunglasses and stuck his tongue out at his friend. "That's rich coming from you. You spend longer on your hair than your girlfriend."

"Maybe that's because Asuka keeps her hair really short!" Yue shot back. "If I were ever crazy enough to cut my hair, then it would be more equal," the blond paused for a moment, pulling a strand of long and silky hair in front of his face as he considered it, before dropping it with a laugh. "But that's never going to happen. You'll have to kill me first."

//Cold concrete, scraping at his skin and leaving bloody stains, the sounds of struggle, a lone gunshot, the wavering figure of a blond, gun raised to point directly at him//

The waiter arrived, carrying the two large glasses of beer with condensation already forming on the glasses. He placed them on the table between the two young teenagers and Yue wasted no time in reaching for his glass. "Anyway," Yue remarked blithely. "At least I'm getting some and not wasting my time mooning over cold American bastards." The youth took another drink and grinned. "You'll never catch me going all gooey over some ice prince. Way too much effort involved there."

//Violet eyes narrowed from a mixture of anger and pain that was impossible to discern on his face, flash of light on a drawn blade, the once familiar blond standing at the redhead's impassive side//

Reality blurred for a moment and Sascha //Schuldig// blinked it back into focus. From his position across the table, Yue's grin had progressed into a fully-fledged leer. "Lost you there for a minute, did I?" the blond asked with fake innocence. He shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. "You've got it worse than I thought if I don't even have to mention his name to cause you to descend into mindless drooling."

Sascha wondered if Yue was solely responsible for the headache that seemed to be forming in one of his temples. Rubbing at that particular part of his head he glared at his friend. "Sometimes you can be such a drama queen," he muttered.

Yue paused with the glass raised once again to his lips, one eyebrow raised questioningly. Then he replaced the drink and laughed. "Then I've obviously been hanging out with you too much and there's no saving me!"

"Some friend you are," Sascha grumbled with mostly feigned irritation. "Just shoot me when I'm down, why don't you?"

//Pain, sudden but somehow anticipated. The world lurching, appearing to tip and spin, the realisation that is it he who is falling, his blood spilt//

When the world tipped back into focus again, Yue was leaning across the table looking worried. "Listen; you have to keep it together. They're trying to break their way in."

Sascha paused and blinked at his friend. "What? What's happening?" Aware of sudden quiet around them, the redhead turned to find their previously busy surroundings deserted. Wondering just how so many people could have suddenly vanished without it registering on his telepathy at all, Sascha //Schuldig// half-rose out of his chair. Yue's gently restraining grip stopped him.

"Calm down," Yue instructed. "They're trying to scare you, to make you panic."

"What do you mean?" Sascha //Schuldig// demanded. "What are they trying to do?"

Yue's grip tightened for a moment and when it loosened again from the telepath's wrist they weren't surrounded by Munich's cobbled streets and distinctive buildings anymore. Instead there was a gently sloping mountainside covered with numerous trees. Yue stepped away from his companion and took a seat on a nearby fallen log. Reaching into a pocket to produce a packet of cigarettes, Yue sparked up and inhaled deeply. "It might render the whole clean mountain air thing completely useless, but you have to admit there wasn't a better spot to grab a smoke."

Schuldig //Sascha// moved over to stand in front of the youthful form of his old friend. "Am I dead? Or is this some kind of dream?"

Yue squinted up at him, suddenly seeming older, before blowing out another lungful of blue-grey smoke and stubbing out the rest of the cigarette on the rough bark beneath him. "You're not dead, just in a coma. You've retreated into your mind, which is where we are right now."

"So this is a dream then."

The blond shook his head again. "Not quite. We're in your memories and you will be able to influence where you go and who you meet to a certain extent. But it won't be fantasy. Only what you have experienced."

Schuldig narrowed his eyes again. "Then how come I don't remember this particular scene ever taking place? Or the last one?"

Yue grinned slightly. "That's the interesting part. I'm the summation of all your memories of me. I have all the knowledge and skills that you remember me having. Like other people from your past that you were close to, I don't need to spout out old conversations. You knew me well enough to subconsciously know how I'll behave in any situation so I have free reign to do just that."

"So why are you helping me?" Schuldig demanded. "I trashed your mind, stole your boyfriend's sister and let him think she was dead … why aren't you jumping at the chance for revenge?"

Yue shrugged. "Don't know about any of that. You have to remember, I'm not the person Yohji, or whatever I'm supposed to be calling myself, is now. I'm a copy. So don't expect me to be able to keep you updated with my current whereabouts and the like." The blond sighed. "I keep drifting off the main problem here. Maybe Asuka can explain things better …"

"I don't think that's going to be necessary."

At the sound of Gil-Martin's voice, both Yue and Schuldig spun to confront the Elder. "What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" Schuldig demanded. "Get the fuck out of my head."

The Esset telepath tutted as he shook his head disapprovingly. "But you're the one responsible for me being here. Just like everything else you see, I am nothing more than a copy of your recollections. You can't kill me or get me to leave."

"I was going to warn you about this," Yue muttered from behind Schuldig. "The rest of us are doing our best to keep you sane and keep those meddling bastards out, but there's others …"

"That would like nothing better than to see you broken and docile," Gil-Martin finished. "And we're going to do everything in our power to ensure it happens."

Schuldig felt Yue's hand close around his wrist again and let himself be tugged backwards, away from the Elder. "We have to go," Yue told him. "Somewhere we can find back-up. If you let him, he'll keep you reliving the worst parts of your life."

The surroundings spun and faded once again. Schuldig watched silently and wondered just how he was supposed to be influencing this when he appeared to have no control over things at all. He also wondered just how long it would take before he went insane or if he'd already reached that point and just failed to notice.

~~

If Yohji had ever been to Paris before, it was one of the many events that had been wiped from his mind. He'd had a pretty clear idea of what to expect though, elegant buildings and cobbled streets filled with insane drivers. He hadn't expected it to be so grey though. The stone of the buildings and the roads matched perfectly with the cloudy skies that threatened rain, but were unable to produce anything more than a constant, morale-sapping drizzle. Yohji wondered if this was part of some elaborate brainwashing technique that would leave him completely loyal to the group of psychopaths he had been forced to accompany here.

Actually, even Yohji could admit that wasn't entirely fair. As much as he would like to maintain that he despised Paris due to its miserable climate and unfriendly locals, a large part was probably generated by the fact that he was in one of the most romantic cities in the world while Ran was half a world away hating his guts. Running off in the fashion that the blond had might not have been the best way to take his leave from the other man. At the very least, it didn't leave Yohji thinking much of his chances should he ever get up the nerve to see the redhead again. Unless he was betting on his chances of being met with a drawn katana and a low greeting of 'shi-ne'. He was able to recognise a burnt bridge and this one had taken out most of the riverside in the explosion.

As for the group marginally responsible for Kudoh behaving like such an ass, Yohji suspected that Hunt weren't quite so villainous as he liked to see them. Odin was still a complete megalomaniac pillock, but the guy was British and had a snobby accent so that was just to be expected. Mika was genuinely trying her hardest to befriend him and he sometimes felt a little bad at seeing her obvious disappointment when he failed to reciprocate, but her habit of calling him Yue freaked him out a little. Pan and Legion were more laidback when dealing with him. Clearly not having previously known him well gave them an advantage over Mika, for they were more than happy to call him by the preferred name of Yohji. So it wasn't technically his real name; it was the one Ran had given him and for that reason more than anything else, he was going to stick with it.

In any case, it was both an acknowledgement that he had made his bed, and for the foreseeable future it was minus one Fujimiya Ran, and had to lie in it and an attempt to make things a little less miserable for him that saw him currently out with the other Hunt underlings. Pan, despite continually asserting that Lyon was far superior (being his home), grudgingly admitted that he knew several Parisian nightspots that were "tolerable". No more reason had been needed for Mika to suggest a trip out away from Odin's somewhat stifling presence and when even Legion seemed relatively upbeat about the prospect, Yohji decided to tag along. Whatever he might feel about the situation, he was stuck with these people and at least attempting to be grown up about it might make the whole thing a touch less painful.

A couple of hours later, sat with the others at a small round table in a very dimly lit club, and Yohji reflected that getting to know his colleagues earlier might have alerted him to the fact that Pan's definition of "tolerable" was somewhat left of centre. The low arching ceiling that betrayed the venue's previous incarnation as a wine-cellar was displayed to full advantage by the candles that were clustered everywhere in red glass holders that seemed to bear more than a passing similarity to the ones seen at Notre Dame. When Pan had casually pulled just such a glass holder from his coat and presented it to the doorman as an entry token, Yohji had been confused, but now it was all clear. Hunt's offering to the shrine of Catholic Kleptomania was now lost among the many others, but it was clear that the whimsical entry policy had led to an interesting collection of patrons within the club's confines.

Freely pouring the red wine Pan had ordered into their collected glasses, Legion looked over at Yohji and shook his head slightly. "Nae offence, but ye'll have tae at least try tae learn some language other than Japanese. It might help wit' settling in."

"At the very least, it's not as though you'll be learning from scratch," Pan added as he swilled the liquid in his glass. "Hidden away in those recesses of your mind should be at least a smattering of European languages."

"I do seem to have a habit of switching into German," Yohji allowed. "But seeing as I'm never conscious of the transition, it doesn't help a lot."

Mika smiled at him encouragingly, her face already slightly flushed from the alcohol. "I guess we can teach you the basics. You always were really good at languages so I don't see it taking you long."

Perhaps noticing the look of discomfort on Yohji's face, Pan smoothly refilled the blond's glass. "You need to drink more wine. We're finally in a country that makes palatable stuff so appreciate it while you can. The stuff they sell in England isn't even fit for vinegar."

"Is that where we're headed next?" Yohji asked.

Legion snorted. "As if we have the slightest idea what goes through that pompous Sassenach's mind."

Anything else the Scot may have been about to add was drowned out by a loud cry that rang through the club. Legion turned to glare at Pan with an expression even more sour than the one he usually wore. "So that's why you dragged us here."

Even the normally excitable Mika looked a bit hesitant at the owner of the voice who was obviously approaching from somewhere behind Yohji. Intrigued by the reactions, Yohji turned around to see just who all the fuss was about.

Moving towards them with an exaggerated gliding motion was a slim form covered in sequins and feathers. Sweeping around the table, the heavily made up figure all but fell into Pan's lap, swatting him firmly about the head at the same time. "Méchant! Sneaking in here with him so I wouldn't notice! You didn't honestly think it would work?"

"It had tae have been worth a shot," Legion muttered into his glass.

The newcomer swivelled away from Pan to face the rest of the table. From this angle, the somewhat questionable gender was resolved in Yohji's mind as being an elaborate drag act. Inspecting the sullen Scot's face, the stranger turned back to face Pan. "Merde! You're still hanging around with this deadbeat? No wonder you had to come and see me. He hasn't got you trying to slit your wrists yet, has he?"

While Pan just laughed, Legion leaned slightly towards the shell-shocked Mika and Yohji. "Meet Teiresias. The Delphic Unit's guilty wee secret."

"Enchanté," Teiresias trilled. "Now what precisely brings you to my little den, hmmm?"

"We were wondering how you felt about organising a little coup d'etat," Pan said. "Whispers on the wind inform us that the end of Esset is drawing near."

"And I suppose you three are selling tickets?" Teiresias murmured with a roll of thickly mascaraed eyes.

"Not quite," Pan smiled. "But perhaps a little look to see what's on the cards would be a pleasant gesture for your old friends? Yohji here is still unaware of your little talent."

Visibly preening, Teiresias reached into a pocket to produce a deck of playing cards. Passing them over to the still somewhat confused blond, Teiresias instructed; "Shuffle the cards and then pass them back to me. We'll see how much I can notice beyond your little ability."

Yohji raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. "Shouldn't you be using tarot cards if you're planning on reading my future?" he asked.

Teiresias looked insulted. "I am a professional. I don't need props. I could read your future with Pokémon cards if I wanted."

"Now there's a thought," Mika muttered.

Taking the cards back from Yohji, Teiresias flipped the first three over onto the table and then frowned at them slightly. Tapping the first card, the Knave of Spades, with a red-lacquered nail, the seer began the reading. "It seems Esset have yet to send the big guns after you, but do not underestimate the threat. Even a lapdog has teeth. You must remain focused, the secret to success lies with your past." Pausing over the next two cards, the three of spades and another Knave –this one with a red heart printed in the corner and a somewhat more melancholy expression than Yohji usually remembered the cards having, Teiresias glanced over at Pan and Legion. "A former friend is on the brink, victim to past mistakes and current guilt. You have the power to help, but it will not be easy."

"Sascha," Mika murmured under her breath, her expression one of abject misery.

Ignoring the Japanese girl, Teiresias briskly laid down three more cards. Yet another Knave glared up with narrowed eyes, perhaps annoyed at not being next to his fellow suit the King of Hearts. Separating the pair was the Ace of Spades. The man snorted slightly. "You and your obsession with your love life are the biggest threat to what you hope to achieve."

Now it was Yohji's turn to frown at the gathered rogue agents. "Isn't that convenient. Why am I not surprised that you don't want me to have anything more to do with Ran?"

Teiresias looked around the group in displeasure. "What have you been up to now?" Not waiting to hear the answer, the seer reached across to pat Yohji's hand sympathetically. "That's not the reason for my warning. The swordsman is due to die at the hands of one whom he loves. I would not wish it to be you."

Any response to that failed to leave Yohji's mouth as his heart seemed to stop beating.