Part 13

"So," Ken said, crossing his arms and looking at the mountain of dishes in front of him in the sink, instead of where Kaasan sat at the table with a cup of hot green tea. "Did he say what it was?"

"He's sleeping." Kaasan answered patiently, nicely, in her opinion, avoiding the topic.

"If it was Yohji I say that he was dumped." Ken surmised tackling the mountain of washing that the geisha had left him. They couldn't make a cup of tea without dirtying at least four cups and bowl, he swore.

"And where is our little Aoi?" Kaasan said, changing the subject.

"He went to the pictures," Ken answered, "look it's not like Aya to get dumped, so are you going to tell me or am I going upstairs to wake him?" He paused for a moment, thinking about it, it was safe to wake Yohji but Aya... He remembered the last time he had woken Aya. "Well, ask him in the morning."

Kaasan laughed a little. "He's fine." She said, "he just needed to cry it out, I put the kitten in with him, he'll sleep the worst of it off, in the morning he'll be well though it will take him a long time to heal."

"So he did get dumped?" Ken pressed.

"It's not my place to tell." Kaasan answered. "Did Aoi take her cell with her?" Ken nodded. "I'll tell her to bring back some ice cream for him."

Omi closed his cell with a look of wonder. "Someone dumped Aya." He said in shock, "He's in mourning."

Nagi looked at him open mouthed with wide blue eyes that never thought to hear those words. "Are we going to hear about it on the news? Man killed in samurai style execution."

Omi looked at Nagi and then smiled. He reached across the small diner's table to kiss those pale lips that were almost smiling. He never got more than an almost smile from Nagi, but those almost smiles were cherished and worshipped with real love.

Farfarello was sat in another booth making satanic designs in his raspberry sauce with a plastic knife that he had specially sharpened. Omi hated that Nagi always had a baby sitter when he went out with him, but preferred that it was Farfarello because he made sure the two of them were uninterrupted and never interrupted them himself. One day, Omi thought, it will be Crawford asking me about my intentions and planning a wedding.

He stopped for a moment, and then stole another kiss from the almost smiling boy facing him, would Crawford approve of him with Nagi? It suddenly meant a lot to him that they were hiding this relationship from Crawford, Aya knew. Aya always knew, he was one of those people that even though he never mentioned it, he knew. You could really sneak nothing past him.

Omi didn't like the idea that Aya was upset, normally it was Yohji that went into mourning when he'd been dumped, it meant lots of chocolate and country music played loudly for about three days and then the so-called love of his life was forgotten, he pined over Aya for a day or two and then went back to the clubs to fall in love again. Aya wasn't like that.

"Crawford was in a terrible mood when we left." Nagi admitted, taking a sip of his brand name soft drink. "He was actually breaking things, and normally he's very neat." He wiped his mouth with a pale thin hand as Omi handed him a napkin.

"Maybe they know something we don't know." Omi said, he knew that it might make Aya a little happier that Crawford was unhappy too, but it might be something else that upset Aya, Crawford might just have been stood up. Crawford was a very organised man, it seemed to Omi, he might not like something that broke his appointments. He'd tell Aya anyway.

Yohji woke up to the electric alarm and opened an eye. The man on the radio was happily chattering away and with a horrible start Yohji realised that he couldn't understand a word he said. "Aargh!" He yelled, jumping out of bed and stumbling to land flat on his face. "It's finally happened, Aya was right," he said to himself as he found himself a nice quiet little place under the desk, "I got so drunk that I've forgotten Japanese."

"Was ist los?" The voice said from the bed. It was a male voice, that was nothing surprising in and of itself, it was a familiar voice and it was definitely speaking in a language he didn't understand. He didn't recognise the room he was in, he had slept with a strange man, he looked down, fully clothed, and he'd forgotten Japanese. It didn't get much worse than this. "Ich versuche zu schlafen." The voice said sitting up, and Yohji took it back, it had just got much worse, he was in a hotel room he didn't know, he'd forgotten Japanese and he'd slept with Schuldig. It really didn't much worse than that.

Then a single stabbing pain lanced through his right eye and his stomach lurched, his hangover had just kicked in. He really had to stop saying that.

"It's the end of the world." Yohji moaned from his little hidey hole under the desk.

Schuldig rolled his eyes and flopped back down on the bed. "können Sie ruhig sein?" He asked. Then took another look at Yohji. "No, he said, I guess you can't." He laughed.

"You're speaking Japanese." Yohji said with a great grin. "I've not forgotten it. Do you remember where we are or how we got here?"

"You're the detective, kitty." Schuldig said pulling it over his head, "you figure it out."

Yohji climbed out from under the desk and moved to the window, he paused on standing waiting for his head to catch up and his stomach not to. He opened the drapes carefully as Schuldig hissed n the bed. "Um, Toto," he said, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

"First of all," Schuldig growled, not recognising the movie reference at all, "we were in Kyoto, not Kansas, and second of all, I don't even look like her."

Yohji rolled his eyes in despair. "I don't think we're even in Japan anymore." He said, "it looks like a period flick out there."

"Well what's the last thing you remember?" Schuldig growled.

"We were drinking," Yohji said, "and we ran out of liquor."

"And I said we can go get some more." Schuldig suggested, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes.

"But we were drinking that foreign stuff."

"Becherovka." Schuldig supplied, he remembered the taste of burning at the back of his throat and the swirling of his stomach that was distinctive of a becherovka hang over. He thought about it for a moment then looked at the alarm clock which was playing some upbeat number in a language that was completely indistinguishable from gibbering to him, he looked at Yohji and the vista of arched roofs and pointed spires, at the sprawl of the river he could just see. "Dear God in heaven, we're in Prague. Crawford's going to kill me."

Nagi stepped into the room warily with a shield of his power up, and Farfarello lurking behind him. If it came down to it Crawford was much more likely to strike out at the Irish man. The room was strangely quiet, almost empty quiet. He had even tidied up, there was still a coffee stain on the wall, but the porcelain had been cleared away, the broken chair was in a neat pile and if Nagi hadn't heard the crash of the television bouncing off the wall he honestly would have thought that there wasn't one in there. "Crawford." He called a little warily. "I brought ice cream."

There was still no answer. "Maybe he's not in." Farfarello suggested. They were tip toeing around the hotel room worried that Crawford was going to appear out of nowhere, and having run out of things in the room to break might break them instead.

"It's pistachio." Nagi called out. Pistachio was Crawford's favourite ice cream flavour. It was Farfarello's idea that they get him a bribe.

The found Crawford sitting on the floor of his bedroom in a pair of loose sweats and a white T-shirt that had seen better days. He had been drinking, he had his back to the wall and his knees up in front of him. Nagi decided that with Schuldig missing he'd field this one. He waved Farfarello away.

He sat down next to him and opened the carton of ice cream, offering the tub to Crawford who blinked at it for a moment. "Thank you." He said.

Nagi leant up against him, "want to tell me about it, I promise I won't say anything, I'm not Schuldig." He said.

And Crawford told him. "I was on a date with Murasakiiro-sama, and it was wonderful, we went to the cinema and shared our popcorn, she even let me kiss her a few times, she's normally really shy and I have to steal the kisses, but she even kissed me." He felt a little sheepish telling this to Nagi, but Nagi had said that he wouldn't tell anyone.

"Then we went for ice cream, and it was wonderful, she's wonderful." He stopped again, suddenly very quiet. "Then we went to the imperial gardens to just walk." He took a long deep drink of his sake and stabbed his spoon into the green ice cream just as hard as he could. It bent under the pressure.

"And?" Nagi asked, patiently.

"She said she had something to tell me." Crawford said.

"And?" Nagi pressed.

"She said it couldn't work between us, that this was too much, and that it wasn't me, it was her." Nagi flinched, "and she didn't trust that I'd just be friends, and she had admitted all along that she had a boy friend. She dumped me, Nagi, and I didn't see it coming."

Yes, dear reader, Murasakiiro dumped him.