Cat's Cradle: Chapter Three

Author's Note: Big delay on this one due to a rapid succession of finals, graduation (yay!), trip away and discovering that my laptop upon which all plot outlines and chapters were stored had crashed and taken all my data with it. I was not best pleased to put it mildly. Anyway, part three take two is now here.

Yohji made his way through the sakura grove with no real thought as to where he was heading. He wasn't overly concerned though, after all, he had no idea where he was so where he ended up probably made very little difference in the greater scheme of things. Through the clouds of pale pink petals, the blond thought he could see what looked like a lake. What he hadn't seen, but soon became obvious, was that someone had already beaten him to a seated spot on the bank. Yohji stood staring at that distinctive head of crimson hair and silently cursed all transvestite French Seers for putting thoughts of the redhead firmly back into his subconscious.

Senses obvious alerted by his approach, Ran half-turned to face the blond. His violet eyes widened momentarily as he saw who stood behind him, but then the man's face fell back into its typical blankness. The redhead turned back to face the water. "Figures."

Yohji blinked at the sound of that low voice, unprepared for the longing it triggered and fighting down the twin urges to either jump the man or turn and run. "What does?"

"That it would be you standing there. I was expecting Aya, but of course, she's dead. You, on the other hand, just aren't around any more." There was a pause, then a quiet sigh as Ran's shoulders slumped. "I miss you."

Yohji cursed his subconscious for making the man appear in one of his rare unguarded and vulnerable moods. How was he supposed to convince himself that his actions regarding Ran had been for the best? With a sigh of his own, Yohji reflected that this was, after all, a dream. He reached into his pocket and was almost surprised to find his cigarettes. It didn't stop him from removing one pale cylinder from the pack and sparking up though, apart from anything else, Yohji had the feeling he was going to need the cigarette's calming effect. He took a deep, fortifying drag and then moved to sit next to Ran. "You sure about that," he asked in question to the man's statement. "After running out on you like I did, I figured you'd be looking to rip me a new one."

"The thought did cross my mind," Ran confessed ruefully. "But I felt that you might feel dissuaded from staying with me."

Yohji tried to smile, but his face muscles seemed unable to produce more than a weak twitch of his lips. "I'm sorry for running out on you," he said quietly. "I did it to protect you."

Ran let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Protect me? Why? I'm a killer Yohji. More nights than not, I go out to kill someone I've never met because I'm told to. Because that's what I get paid for. At first I told myself that it was for Aya; that I would do anything so long as Aya received the best care and maybe woke up again some day. Then my work got Aya killed. But I still had you, and I thought I could manage as I could protect you. Stop you from becoming the same as me. That didn't work either." The redhead fell silent after the uncharacteristically long speech and stared hard at the ground for a few moments. Yohji simply watched, sensing that the smaller man wasn't quite finished yet. He was proved right when Ran raised his head to look at the blond with weary violet eyes. "Don't fall in the same trap, Yohji," he said. "I'm going to wind up dead anyway."

"Don't say that," Yohji protested, reaching out to grab the other man's arm. "You're going to stay alive and as soon as I can get this mess sorted out, I'll come back to Japan for you."

Ran's gaze had dropped to study the tanned hand that was wrapped so firmly around his own pale forearm. Yohji didn't miss the faint mockery of a smile that darted briefly across his one-time lover's lips. "You're assuming," Ran stated flatly as he reached down and freed himself from the blond's grasp, "that I'll still be in Japan."

Yohji's eyes narrowed. "Already regressed to pissy bastard, I see," he muttered. "Shit, Ran, change the fucking record."

The redhead shrugged and turned to stare back out over the waters. "Can a bird sing the only song it knows or can it learn a new song?" he murmured with the air of quoting something.

Yohji rolled his eyes. How typical of the redhead to find something so morbid-sounding, probably from some hideously depressing novel he had hidden away in that room of his. "I wouldn't know about that," he commented, tapping the substantial column of ash away from his cigarette before raising it to his lips. "But you're not even trying."

"And is that any worse than running headlong back into it, the moment it seems you could finally leave it all behind you?" Ran asked acidly.

Yohji shrugged. "Wouldn't have happened. You were still there." He regretted the words almost the instant they left his mouth, saw the way they made the other man almost visibly retract under that ice persona.

The redhead rose his feet and silently struck off on a path through the sakura. Yohji tried to follow, but soon lost sight of the other man admist the swirls of pale petals. He scowled and swore. That fucking hotel lobby recurring dream had almost been preferable to this.

"You know, when you suggested talking a stroll through the city I expected to see more … city," Ken remarked to the redhead who was calmly resting in the shade of one of the numerous trees. "I'm finding it hard to believe we're even in one at the moment."

"That's probably why it's called the Tiergarten, Ken," Omi teased as he flipped through the guidebook. "Apparently it was created as the royal hunting grounds and that's where the name comes from."

"I felt it was an appropriate spot for the hunted to hide out," Ran remarked, a faint twist to his lips that could have been the indicator of humour.

It was enough to make Ken pause and look at the older man more closely. "And yet despite that you seem to be in a very good mood," he observed warily. "Considering we're in a foreign country and only one of us speaks the language with any proficiency."

Omi rolled his eyes. "It's not that hard, Ken. Even Ran's picking some up."

Ken snorted. "Not that hard? I've never encountered so many different ways of saying 'the'."

"The pronunciation is quite straightforward," the crimson-haired assassin supplied. "Compared to French, which is the only other language I can even attempt to speak."

"And football is a really popular sport here in Europe," Omi added. "They're all completely obsessed with it."

"That is something, I guess," Ken conceded reluctantly.

It seemed to be enough. Omi beamed at the brunet before bouncing onwards to another small clearing complete with a small lake. Ken watched him go and refrained from adding that the football argument would have held more weight if they'd been in Dortmund or Munich. The young blond seemed to be acting as though the trio were merely on holiday; taking in the various sights and suggesting outings that he thought would interest at least one other member of the group. More often than not, it was Ran agreeing to venture out and about; lured time and again by the plethora of museums, galleries and various historical and cultural monuments. Ken felt as though he could now personally write his own reference book on German history and culture.

To be totally honest though, Ken quite liked this city. It lacked the sheer crush of Tokyo, but there was a real energy to the place nonetheless. Even if that was slightly harder to keep in mind amidst the calm of the immense park compared to the glass and steel of Potsdamer Platz and the Sony Zentrum where Ken had heard the first bit of Japanese spoken by someone other than his fellow assassins thanks to an OV screening of a fairly recent anime film. Yeah, Ken had to admit that Weiss' choice of destination had been a pretty good choice.

But he'd sooner eat his own foot than admit that to Ran. Which reminded him; "Hey, guys. Are we planning on getting something to eat soon? Or is Ran on another of his 'starvation is character building' kicks?"

Omi started to laugh, but managed to catch himself in time glancing over at Fujimiya before smiling at the brunet. "I think we could all probably go for lunch. Did you have anywhere in particular in mind?"

Ken shrugged. "There's a whole bunch of café type places under the station over at Hackescher Markt. We can grab a table out in the sunshine."

Omi frowned. "Isn't there a rather large store dedicated to a well-known sporting brand very close by?"

Ken grinned. "Maybe. But that can wait until after we've eaten. There's a good comic shop there as well, does manga in a whole range of languages."

Ran shot a look in Ken's direction that from anyone else would have been a very intimidating glare. Compared to the redhead's usual standard, it was bordering on indulgent. "I don't see why you should worry about a language barrier when you only look at the pictures in the first place."

"Oi!"

"But I think something to eat would be a good idea," Ran continued, obviously satisfied with the reaction he'd provoked. "We can catch the S-Bahn there, right?"

Omi nodded, being the only one who'd committed Berlin's entire public transport system to memory. "And it won't be a long wait either; no matter what train we catch, it'll pass through Hackescher Markt." The blond paused and shot Ken a teasing look. "So even you couldn't get lost this time, Ken."

Ken groaned. "Not you as well." He moved to catch Omi in a mock choke-hold when he noticed Ran hadn't moved and was looking off in another direction. Ken automatically tensed, glancing amongst the greenery. "Something wrong, Ran?"

Ran glanced briefly over at Ken before shaking his head. "No. You two go on ahead, I'll meet you there."

Ken frowned. "What? Why? I thought you said…"

"There's something I have to do first." Ran glared at Ken. "Or do I have to babysit you all day/"

Ken opened his mouth to splutter a retort, but Omi was faster. The youngest Weiss firmly clamped one hand over Ken's mouth and the other around his bicep as he began to pull the other man towards the S-Bahn station. "That's fine Ran," Omi called. "Don't be too long! Do you want us to order for you?"

Ran shook his head. "I'll be fine." Without another glance in the direction of the other two men, Ran turned and strode off through the park.

Omi waited until he was out of hearing range before removing his hand from Ken's mouth. "Come on then," Omi said cheerfully. "I'm actually old enough to drink in this country so let me make the most of it."

Having arrived at the Potsdamer Platz station, Ran hurried onto the S1 train that pulled to a stop as he reached the platform. Perhaps because of the pleasant weather, the S-Bahn was mostly deserted. Rather than take one of the many seats, however, Ran chose to stand by the doors. He leant against one of poles that passengers were supposed to hold onto and stared idly at his reflection in the glass as the train sped through the underground section of its route. Aya's earring swung lazily from his ear and he brushed his fingers against the metal. A memento of his failure to protect those he loved. Ran narrowed his eyes as his reflection glared back with equal determination. He was not going to let Yohji add himself to that list of names.

Ran got off the train at Oranienburger Strasse and wrinkled his nose slightly at the sudden assault of smells that filled the air. He made his way down the street until he reached a small café. Ducking into the shaded interior, Ran nodded at the barman who then jabbed a thumb toward a door in the back before returning to loading glasses into the dishwasher. Without another glance at the café's few patrons, the redhead pushed open the indicated door and stepped inside.

"I must admit, I didn't expect you to show, Crasher."

Ran narrowed his eyes at the figure that sat in the gloom, barely visible save for the lit cigarette. "And I must admit, I expected you to know that I'm not connected to Crashers anymore. Too much time drinking beer and listening to yourself talk instead of other people perhaps."

The figure laughed. "If that's the case, what are you doing here?"

"I'm beginning to wonder," Ran muttered as he slid into an empty chair at the table that took up most of the room. "Times must be hard if you're reduced to working in a broom closet."

The figure took another drag of the cigarette before leaning forwards to reveal a demonically grinning visage complete with a neatly trimmed goatee and dark, curled hair. "What, feeling as though you're regressing a bit?"

Ran scowled. "Your sense of humour hasn't improved, I see. Now are you going to be useful or simply irritating, Argus?"

Argus scrunched up his nose. "After sitting through your attitude, I'm not sure. This is outside the rules anyway – I'm only helping out Crashers."

"Which explains why Knight told me you were hiding out here rather than in Japan where they could make some use of you."

Abruptly switching to a much more professional demeanour, Argus straightened, his face fading back into the gloom. "Well I suppose I'll bend the rules this once; you'll be pleased to here we've had word of your little blond. He was last spotted in Paris, but we have reason to believe that was nothing more than a brief stopover. They're making for Edinburgh."

Ran nodded absently. "What about the others he's with? Have you discovered any more on them?"

"All ex-Rosenkreuz members with the freaky abilities to match," Argus sucked his breath in through clenched teeth. "To be honest, I don't know how you're expecting to fight them. They're obviously good otherwise Rosenkreuz would have killed them by now. That group doesn't like competition."

Ran snorted. "But whatever parlour tricks they may have, they're still human. They make mistakes."

Argus sighed. "You really have no idea just what you're up against, do you?"

Crawford looked up as Aya knocked on the door that stood ajar, peering round into the room. "Brad? We haven't seen you for a while. Is everything okay?"

Crawford leaned back slightly in his chair as he reached over to turn his monitor off. "You're the empath, you tell me." He realised his mistake the moment he saw the triumphant expression flash across the young girl's face and wondered if she had been this unrelenting with her brother.

Closing the door behind her, Aya all but stalked over the empty chair that sat on the opposite side of Crawford's desk. She flopped into it, and swung the chair lazily from side to side with one foot as she stared at Crawford. Not to be intimidated by the young Japanese teenager, Crawford stared impassively back. Or so he thought until Aya sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ran used to try that as well. It got to the stage where you tell how genuinely upset he was by the quality of his poker face." She leaned back more in the chair, pulling her leg up to tuck under the one that was still making her swing. "Incidentally, if I was using that as my guide, I'd say you were about two seconds away from completely breaking down."

Crawford nodded and smiled politely at the girl. "I can assure you that I will be doing no such thing."

Aya nodded. "You're right. No matter how much you want to just break down, it's not going to do you any good in the long run. Plus I don't have any tissues with me." The younger Fujimiya tugged at a stray strand of hair. "So I hope all this time moping behind closed doors was well spent and you now have a plan to get Schu back?"

Crawford bit back the protest that he wasn't moping; he'd fallen victim to that trick too many times already, and flicked the monitor back on. "It's going to be tricky. We're under close scrutiny, as is Schuldig. Even getting out of the country is going to take a fair bit of doing and the minute we leave, it's going to be obvious we're making for Rosenkreuz." Crawford looked at the information on the screen and wondered silently just why he was going to this much trouble for a man who'd all but ordered Void to shoot him. What were the chances of Schuldig working out his issues before they arrived? Something soft impacted against his head, knocking his glasses squint and the American looked up to see Aya glaring at him – another hair scrunchie ready to follow the first.

"Stop that!" she snapped. "If you're going to market yourself as the callous ice-block, then stop moping!" Aya huffed out her breath and scowled – for a moment resembling her brother. "You men are all completely hopeless!" she exclaimed. "You try and deny your feelings until you've created a complete mess out of what could have been a wonderful and uncomplicated relationship and then agonise about the damage you've done instead of trying to fix it. I'm glad I've spent so long stuck in a hospital bed and I'm glad my emotionally retarded brother couldn't handle visiting me, it saved me from a lot of hassle!"

Crawford tried to maintain his calm façade, but he could feel it slipping to his eternal embarrassment. Beaten by a teenage girl, he reflected, Schuldig would laugh himself silly. Then he remembered just why Schuldig wasn't around.

"You're doing it again!" Aya exclaimed. "You can't keep your thoughts off Schu for more than thirty seconds and you try to tell me that he's just a team member."

"He is just a-" Crawford was prevented from finishing his sentence by the sudden lapful of Aya he received as the girl flung her arms around his neck. Then he realised she was sniffling and awkwardly patted her on the back.

"I miss him too, you know," Aya muttered into the front of his shirt. "After everyone else forgot about me, he kept me company. I don't want him lying in a coma half a world away. I want him here with us."

Crawford settled on putting his hands gently on the girl's shoulders. He looked ridiculous waving them about. "We'll get him back," Crawford told the top of Aya's head. That didn't seem to help much, so the American decided to try a cautious, "I miss him too."

For a moment he thought the girl was sobbing again, but he realised her shoulders were shaking with laughter. Aya raised her head to look at Crawford with teary eyes and laughed again, shaking her head. "No, you don't," she said.

Crawford frowned. "I know my actions may not always have appeared to display any consideration for Schuldig, but he is a valued member of Schwarz and I want him back as soon as possible. Of course I miss him."

Aya wiped her eyes as she leaned back slightly. "No, that's not what I meant. I can feel how much you want him back, but you don't feel the same sort of loss. It's not in your emotions." The girl frowned as she tried to express what she felt. "It's like he's just in another room or something, still with you, but just not in your immediate vicinity right now."

Crawford blinked at Aya and not for the first time wondered just how such a powerful empath could have gone undiscovered for so long. "I'm linked to him," the American explained. "I suppose that means on some level I can still feel him in my thoughts, even if he is unconscious." He tried a slight smile. "He certainly is a lot quieter, anyway."

Aya smiled back at him before her gaze drifted into the middle distance. The girl tipped her head vaguely to one side and a faint frown crossed her features. "This link," she said slowly. "It's still active even though Schu's so far away and unconscious?"

Crawford nodded. "But extremely weak, I'm barely aware of it unless I concentrate."

Aya began to chew on her lip as her thoughts worked even faster. "So then … does it go both ways? Could Schuldig pick up on your thoughts?"

Crawford blinked in surprise. "I don't know."

Aya rolled her eyes. "Well hadn't you better try? We're going to need all the help we can get to rescue Schu."