Akabane found himself walking down a long gray hallway. His shoes echoed off the tiled floor, booming empty sounds in the darkness. He could not tell if the hallway was wide or narrow, for beyond a single row of spotlights overhead there was nothing but pitch blackness. The spotlights pointed him forward, giving him no other option of a direction to walk in.

How did I get here, he wondered. The last thing he remembered, he was lying on his back in the streets with Ginji screaming out his partner's name in the distance. He paused, looking all around. This was- he recognized this place. He had walked down this hallway once, on a job. He hadn't been back to that place since. So why should he be there now?

He reached out with one hand to see if he could feel walls in the darkness beyond, but found nothing except empty air. It was almost as if he limbs failed to exist once they left the circle of overhead lights. He drew them back. He could not remember having his injured leg healed, could not remember having come back to this place he had once passed through. Yet there was the same suitcase he had carried those weeks ago, still tightly held in his left hand. He'd delivered that suitcase so long ago, and hadn't seen it since.

That meant this was a dream. He must have passed out from blood loss and started to dream. Well, at least now that he knew that, it meant that he could control what was happening around him. After all, if it was just a dream, nothing could hurt him.

He continued to follow the row of lights, feeling mildly disturbed when he realized he could not remember how this job had ended. He supposed that was because it had ended like so many other jobs he could no longer remember: uneventfully.

He stepped out onto what appeared to be the floor of an empty warehouse. The circles of light came together in the middle of the concrete floor, forming a wide pool of white light that was just bright enough to see the outlines of an overhead walk, boarded-over windows and boxes. He didn't remember what the outside of the building had looked like, but for some reason, he could not remember there having been boarded up windows. He frowned to himself.

He took another step forward, noticing that his clients seemed to be nowhere in view. The light was bright enough that he could dimly see each wall, but he saw no human forms moving. He strained his ears, but heard no sounds of footsteps or breathing.

Then, he heard a sound like a broken guitar string whipping through the air. He tried to dodge left, but a silver string came out of no where and wrapped itself around his leg. His arm went up, scalpels drawn, ready to attack. A second string came from above, wrapping itself around his fingers and his scalpels, holding them tightly in place in a matrix of wire.

His other arm went up to assist the first one, only to end up similarly wrapped in wire. His other leg, by that time, had been wrapped and tied in the strange silver wire from knee to ankle. He would not stand the humiliation of being beaten by a mere thread user. He tried to draw his arm down, only to find the wires moving with him in a fluid manner that prevented him from truly moving, but also released enough slack that he was unable to get any sort of tight force pulling against the strings.

A string shot past his face, and in that moment he realized he was not dealing with an ordinary string user. These strings hummed and vibrated, as if possessing a life force of their own. The string that had brushed past his face suddenly wound itself tightly around his neck, causing him to choke.

The strings around his wrists suddenly drew painfully taut and yanked him up off the ground, holding him suspended in air. Despite the way the strings were digging into his skin, causing his fine red blood to run down his arms, he could not take control of them with his abilities. The humming coming off of them seemed to be blocking his efforts.

That has to be because this is a dream, he thought as he found himself suspended there. Of course, some kind of odd dream brought on by this miserable condition. No string user, no matter if they did possess some kind of specially endowed string, could have gotten the drop on him so easily.

He heard the sound of someone walking towards him in the darkness, and then a man appeared. Or rather, the outline of a man appeared. Silver-blonde hair sat on top of an empty black sphere, like a wig placed over a black party balloon. A long white coat draped in the air, but it seemed not to be attached to any sort of body. No hands emerged from beneath the sleeves of the coat, despite the fact that when they drew together a clapping noise escaped from the vicinity of where they should have been.

The floating coat came closer to where he was hanging, tilting as though to allow eyes that did not exist to get a better look at what the spider had trapped in its web. The invisible thing's gaze finally turned downward, to the fallen suitcase. A shoe unattached to a foot kicked the suitcase, hard, causing the top to pop open. Only then did Akabane see that there was nothing inside the supposed cargo except what appeared to be a lead weight.

"Empty," a voice that came from the direction of the floating coat commented. "Do you know why it was empty?" He felt a strand of hair being brushed out of his face as an empty sleeve came near his chin, though no visible hand was responsible. "Because you were the delivery, with your pretty purple eyes… A perfect mail-order bride."

The sleeve went up again, pulling a scalpel from between his fingers. To his horror, Akabane found that he could not summon that scalpel back to his body. It was as if it was no longer in his power… but of course, that was because this was just a dream. A metaphor for how helpless he felt in the situation he was in, perhaps?

The invisible figure seemed to care not for Akabane's internal dialogue, instead using the blade to cut down the front of his shirt, popping the buttons off his coat and dress shirt. He felt pressure like a hand on his chest, wandering over his muscles, but he could see nothing but the empty sleeve moving in front of his eyes. "Such a fine specimen you are," the voice mocked. The blade was suddenly thrust violently down, heading straight in the direction of his groin-

"Wake up!" Akabane suddenly found himself shouting, despite the fact that he was already awake and lying on his side in a strange, makeshift bed. He looked around, a bit hazy. It took him a minute or two to realize that he'd apparently been carried back to that little hospital in the Infinite Castle.

"Such odd dreams," he commented to himself, rubbing his head. "Not to mention that I have been fainting frequently lately. Such a thing can not possibly be a good sign…" He forced himself into a sitting position and found that his pants had been removed and a cast placed on his damaged leg. It did not matter if they had put him in a cast or not; his natural healing ability meant that he would be off that leg for two weeks at the most. What did annoy him was that they'd chosen an off-purplish black for the cast color. Just because he wore black clothes did not automatically he wanted everything in his life to be black. What did they think he was, some kind of Goth?

Meanwhile, Himiko sat and watched in silence as Ginji emerged from the back area, his hands clasped in front of his body and tears dripping down his face. She stood up, putting one small hand on his shaking shoulder. "Gen-san said that Ban is going to be okay," she said firmly, eyes lit with a spark of internal fire. "There's no need to cry."

"But he's all bruised up! Who would do such a thing to him?"

Himiko removed her hand, studying her fingernails with great interest. She dared not say it, but in all fairness, if Ban had not been stopped she might have ended up badly wounded or dead. She turned her attention sharply to Sakura, who stood silently in a corner with a distant gaze on her face.

"Sakura, what exactly did you see back there?"

"I only saw a quick glimpse of it, but it almost looked like… like either a white eagle, or a feathered lion… I don't know," she said slowly, twisting the pink cloth of her headband in her hands. Himiko could not help but notice that all their nervous ticks seemed to have emerged since they had brought Ban and Akabane to Gen's pharmacy. "I barely saw it out of the corner of an eye, and I know what I saw sounds stupid."

"Ban can manifest a giant glowing snake out of his arm. I don't think anything you claimed to see back there would sound stupid at this point, short of saying you saw the Incredible Hulk there."

"I don't know what I saw. I'm sorry." She turned her eyes upwards, as if gesturing with them. "I should go check on Makubex. I've been neglecting my duties these last few weeks with what has been going on down here."

She turned to leave, only for Himiko to reach out and grab her wrist strongly. "Please, Sakura. We have to know what you saw. Something attacked Ban, and whatever it was, it was strong enough to not only cancel his attack but knock him flat on his back."

"I didn't see anything!" Sakura suddenly cried, tearing her arm out of Himiko's grip and running off.

Himiko stared gape-jawed at the girl's sudden run. "What got into her?" she asked, looking back at Ginji.

Ginji's arms were folded over his chest, a serious scowl on his normally care-free face. "When I catch the person who did this to Ban-chan, I…"

"I understand, Ginji. It's possible that the same person who attacked Ban is also the person who did that to Akabane," she mused out loud, barely even realizing that Ginji was not privy to the same inside information she was.

"Huh, Himiko-chan? Did what to Akabane-san?"

Meanwhile, Akabane had gotten to his feet with the aid of a set of crutches that had been apparently left for him, a hospital bed sheet wrapped around his waist. His side hurt, and he discovered a fresh cut in the vicinity of where they had hooked up the machines to the endoscope two weeks prior. Nice of them to take another look without his permission, wasn't it? Not that they actually cared what happened to his body, of course, just as long as the little parasites growing inside it were safe.

He hobbled out into the main area, finding it devoid of people. He could hear voices drifting from the back. That must be where everyone was. He started moving in their direction, and then paused. There were several glossy photographs showing images of vaguely humanoid creatures lying on the old man's desk.

He recognized what those photos were of immediately and moved away from them, not wanting to see. The old phrase said that ignorance was bliss, and he preferred to ignore the situation as much as he could. After all, the more validation he gave to the parasite's existence, the more justification Himiko felt in taking the moral high ground. He wobbled his way over to the doorway, pausing to catch his breath. Was he that out of shape that walking across the room left him panting?

Himiko's voice drifted in from the other room. "I promised I wouldn't tell, Ginji. I'm sorry."

"Himiko, please! If what happened to Ban has something to do with Akabane-san, I need to know."

Himiko hesitated. Akabane would not find out if she told him, right? He was unconscious in the other room. "You promise, PROMISE not to tell that you know?"

"I promise!" Ginji swore, crossing a finger over his heart in a gesture of earnesty.

"Akabane-san is having a baby. Twins, actually."

There was a long, heavy pause between the two of them, during which Akabane remained outside the door and trembled slightly with rage. Yes, she HAD absolutely promised not to tell anyone. Yet as he stood there, he'd heard her betray his trust with seemingly not a minute's worth of thought.

"You… are you okay, Himiko-chan? Boys don't have babies."

"That's what I said, too! But it's true, I've seen them. There are photos in the next room. To make sure they were okay, Gen took a look and…" her voice dropped off, suddenly becoming soft and wistful. "He said there are a little girl and a little boy. Don't tell Akabane, though. I don't think he wants to know. I don't think he cares about them at all." Her voice had turned from sweet to acidic. "How someone can have so little love for their own family, I don't… I just don't understand it, Ginji!"

How someone could have so little concern for his feelings and opinions, he had no idea. Those things were not his family. She knew what he'd gone through, and she still continued to act like everything was normal. She still continued to refuse to admit that not everyone loved babies as much as she did.

He left the two of them to their amazed conversation and went for the door as fast as he could. In his rush, he accidentally caught the rubber stop on one of the crutches on the doorframe. Before he could correct himself he fell, landing sprawled across the hallway outside Gen's door.

The sound of his fall drew Ginji and Himiko's attention, bringing them both to the door before he could right himself. They found him lying on his stomach, sprawled out in the hallway, surrounded by crutches. Himiko made a disgruntled "tsk" sound in the back of her throat, reaching out to pull him to his feet.

He immediately reached up and slapped her hand away. "I am going to stand up by myself," he snapped, reaching out for the crutches.

"Stop being so stubborn. You fell. You could have hurt yourself even more," she snapped in response, pulling one of the crutches out of his arm's reach. "What were you doing, wandering out into the hallway half dressed like that, anyway?"

He hadn't considered his state of undress. He had merely wanted to get out of there, instead of standing in the doorway and listening to her betray his confidences. What other option had there been, other than storming in and confronting them, in which case they would have ganged up and made him seem like the villain in the situation. Like they always did.

It eventually took Gen arriving in the hallway to convince him to come back inside. He still trusted another member of the medical profession to some degree, even if they did differ on technique and theory. He had also began to feel where he'd hit his knee in the fall, making his already broken leg throb and tingle.

Himiko made some snarky comment about how he hadn't answered her question, whereas Ginji merely stared at him with big, brown, awe-struck eyes. It was obvious he wanted to say something about what he knew, but was keeping his promise to Himiko not to let on that he had been told. At least someone was capable of keeping a secret, it seemed.

"I'm going to go… check on Ban. Yep yep!" Ginji said, rubbing the back of his spiked blonde hair and bowing up. He seemed to realize the amount of tension in the air and want to escape it.

After a moment of his absence, Himiko picked up the glossy photographs off the desk. "Here," she said, forcing them into Akabane's hands. "I wish you had been awake to see it. She was kicking and wiggling around, but her brother seemed to be- Akabane!" He had torn up the pictures and deposited them in a heap about his feet. She glared at him, reaching down and picking up the larger remaining chunks of the pieces. "What did you do that for?"

"I do not know, but it felt good," he answered with a shrug. That was the absolute truth. He had no real good reason for destroying the images, other than that he didn't want to look at them. His entire lower abdomen hurt, and not from the pain of the fall, either. He just wanted to lie down and be left alone for awhile, and having those pictures pushed in his face hadn't helped.

"You really are a- you- I don't have words for you!" she cried, throwing up her arms in resignation.

"How about having words for someone who not only looks inside my body while I am unconscious, but tells others what she promises she would not?" he asked, still holding his middle. Gen, by that time, seemed to have noticed the way his hands were positioned and the expression on his face and had put a concerned hand on his shoulder.

Her face fell, but not enough to indicate that she genuinely felt bad about what she'd done. "It concerns him now, if whatever is after you also attacked Ban."

"You do not know that. You have no reason to believe that," he answered her.

Before Himiko could come up with her next retort, the old man suddenly announced "Gas pain."

Both were so startled by the seemingly random comment that it threw their argument stances right off balance. "Excuse me?" Himiko asked.

"Gas pain," Gen explained, standing up. "That's why he's holding himself like that and making those faces." He picked up the crutches and handed them back to Akabane. "Come on, come into the next room and lie down on your side until it passes."

They left him alone and pulled the curtain, and despite the fact that they were whispering he heard the old man having a few choice words with Himiko about the fact that she hadn't kept her promise, and Himiko shooting back in righteous indignation that the two incidences just had to be connected. He didn't know what his opinion was on whether they were connected. He only knew that he was absolutely exhausted, and felt as though he'd gone a week without sleep. That, and he was insanely hungry for some kind of bitter food. Preferably some kind of sour, acidic liquid…

Elsewhere in the city, a man with skin so pale-white it almost seemed like the flesh of a porcelain doll was holding his teacup. A bloody bandage was wrapped tightly around his palm. The man who had appeared to Akabane earlier as a cameraman sat across from him, as silent as a ghost.

"I almost was not able to stop that attack, only cancel it out," the white-clad figure said, smiling at the chained man. "I believe I will have to move up my reunion date with our little transporter, if he is going to continue to be a difficult patient." The cameraman said nothing, prompting the tea-drinker to make a gesture of annoyance. "Tokashi, when I speak I expect you to answer."

The cameraman weakly set down his tea cup, hands shaking slightly. "Isn't this too much, doctor?"

"This is what your sponsors wanted, is it not?"

"It approaches our end, but your means…" the cameraman argued, holding so tightly to the teacup that he threatened to squash it between his fingers."I can not agree with what you've done to that poor man."

"You find him attractive. Tokashi, if you are quiet and play along with me just a little longer, I'll let you have him for your own. Once I get what I want out of it, and once your sponsors get what they want, we could care less if you do with him what you like."

"I don't mean like that!" Tokashi answered back, checked anger in his voice. He could not make this man mad or express his own frustration to this man, for the sake of his sponsors. He wished he could. Even he thought this madman had gone too far…

"Just give me a little more time," the white-dressed doctor smiled, setting his cup down beside a small blonde doll in a rose-print dress. "And you will see my plans come to fruition."

A/N: My original notes for this were taken and I have not yet managed to reclaim them, though I know where they are. Sorry to have to provide a filler chapter, but I wanted to give you something. Hopefully I will get the actual notes back sometime this week so I can resume writing.