Wow! Another update! Whew! Gotta confess, this one may be a little less than stellar, and I apologize for that in advance. Enjoy.
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"On the brushwood gate
A bolt is fastened—
The winter moon."
--Matsuo Basho
Edo
Chapter 15B
They rode out directly after breakfast, horses packed, weapons concealed.Although the four of them rode together, once they were within the limits of Edo, they were to split up and change clothing and appearance. Each member was to use a different costume, according to their task in the mission.
Since Ran was to kill Takatori himself, the ronin had a servant's uniform that matched those of the Takatori household. The servants numbered enough that no one would question his appearance. Omi was to be an eager youth just signed in to Takatori's personal army; a boy who often made mistakes in his haste to please–namely getting lost and entering the wrong rooms. Yohji, a man whose face Takatori knew well even though his servants did not, was to dress as a traveling fortune teller, distracting guards and servants alike by selling his services in front of the compound. The Kudo charm, apparently, extended to many areas. Ken was to dress as a traveling tea salesman. In the winter, hot tea would be in demand, and Ken would sell cheaply enough to attract a crowd. He was to have two vats; one that was mixed with a potent, undetectable poison, and the other which was filled with regular tea, in the event a civilian stopped him on his way. Ken's job was to defeat as many guards as possible without getting caught. The poison he had chosen was mixed in parts enough to delay the body's reaction. The victim fell asleep and simply did not wake up. By the time anyone noticed the damage, it was estimated that Ken should have at least half the basic guard down.
Initially, Ran had been indignant, Yohji slightly so, at the idea of killing innocent guards in such a sneaky, underhanded way. Trained as a samurai, Ran's morals balked at the idea of stabbing any man in the back, or killing him dishonestly by any means. Yohji had been indignant because he had known some of the guards, who, despite working for Takatori, were good men, who felt they were truly fighting for a better Japan.
Ken and Omi had pointed out that regardless, they were in the way of the mission, and given the opportunity, would not hesitate to kill any member of Weiss, even though the men of Weiss also felt that what they were doing was the right thing. Ken had simply shrugged and said that the men knew what they had signed up for when they agreed to serve one of the most powerful men in the government. There was honor to be found in dying for the leader you served, in battle. That was life. Omi agreed.
To keep each other updated on status, they were to use a system of colored rice grains, that they had devised before-hand for the sole purpose of the mission. Carrier pigeons trained by Kritiker specifically for missions like this, equipped with small vials to carry the rice would be sent back and forth between the assassins as necessary; in the event of an emergency, or when someone had finished their part.
After they had all finished, they were to meet at an assigned spot behind the estate, where together they would begin the preparation of a large "accidental" fire that would destroy the Takatori household and thereby sway any suspicion of foul play in any case. Fires were common, and happened frequently enough that no one would question them. The key was not burning down the rest of the street in the blaze. Persia had assured them he would have separate agents nearby that would douse the fire and clean-up the mess as soon as the time was right.
Now, they rode through small towns and villages, taking short-cuts and back trails to reach their destination. They did not want to draw attention, and they did not want any of Takatori's spies reporting on their progress. Omi kept a sharp watch for hawks, eagles, doves, and pigeons, to insure they were not being followed by a less detectable kind of observation. After scanning the sky for the hundredth time that afternoon, the youth turned to look at the rest of his party.
Yohji had lit his pipe, and had somehow managed to sprawl on his horse. Omi didn't think one could sprawl on a moving animal, but that was Yohji for you. He was the embodiment of ease, even when he was working. The lanky man caught Omi staring and flashed a wink at the blond, chuckling and putting his pipe to his lips with a flourish. The youth rolled his eyes and let loose a heavy sigh.
Ran and Ken were riding a bit behind, their horses close together. Judging by the exaggerated gestures and animated tones of his voice, the ninja was telling Ran some sort of amusing story. The ronin listened with a stoic face, every now and then leaning in more closely so as to hear details Ken dropped his voice for. At the moment, Ken was talking with his shoulders hunched, hands close to his body and moving with quick, short movements. Ran had leaned in close and gave a small, stoic nod occasionally. Omi could not help but smile. He did not regret for a moment his recommendations to have Ran and Ken join on with Kritiker. Despite their rather tenacious need to be constantly near one another, they were truly a priceless addition to the team.
Yohji had slowed his horse and caught up with the two, but by the time he and Omi were in ear-shot, the story was over, and Ran was shaking his head slowly, a small amused smile on his face.
"You are something else, you know that?" the ronin murmured. Ken shrugged and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"Well, a bet is a bet, ok? I wasn't gonna back out and neither was he."
"Even though you both knew it was stupid?"
"Yeah. That's not the point." Ran sighed in exasperation. Yohji raised an eyebrow."What's not the point?" he drawled, exhaling pipe smoke. Ken, realizing he now had a somewhat larger audience, blushed a hot cherry red and ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
"N-nothin'. Long story." he muttered. Ran's smile turned into an amused smirk. Yohji raised the other eyebrow.
"Embarrassing stories to share, KenKen? I'm intrigued..." Ran scowled at the playboy, smirk gone. Ken huffed indignantly.
"Dammit, will you stop calling me that?" the ninja growled. Yohji only tossed his head back and laughed, and Ken hated the fact that even laughing, Yohji looked perfect.
"If the name fits..." the lanky man trailed off. Ken 'hmpd' and crossed his arms in irritation. Omi smiled.
"Na, Ken-kun...know any other stories?" he prompted. Ken's face turned thoughtful.
"Umm...I can tell you about the time I got my hand stuck in a beehive..." he replied hesitantly.
"Sounds like something you'd do, KenKen." Yohji snickered. Ken glared at him. Ran shook his head again.
"How on earth did you manage that, praytell?" the ninja grinned at him.
"Actually, it was pretty easy..." he trailed off. Omi laughed.
"Why am I not surprised?" the youth replied good naturedly. Ken spared him a scowl before hunkering down and beginning his story.
"It started on my tenth birthday, when Takahashi-kun dared three of us to..."
And so the story went, followed by several of Yohji's own anecdotes, and even eventually one or two of Omi's own as well. The ride passed much faster than any of them could anticipate.
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When they arrived on the outskirts of Edo, they reigned in and turned to face each other. Omi looked at each face solemnly before nodding.
"Ok, everyone. We know what we have to do. Any questions?" silence reigned.
"Good. Let's do it then. And get back home as quickly as possible." he received nods in confirming response, before they turned away from each other. Yohji gave Omi a cocky smile.
See you later. Don't lose your head.
Omi nodded and smiled in return, expression grave.
Mind you don't lose your own head.
And the two split ways, heading in opposite directions.
Ken and Ran drew in close together and sat in silence for a moment before Ran lifted a hand and gently stroked two fingers along the curve of Ken's jaw.
"Take care of yourself." the ronin murmured in a soft, tremulous voice. Ken nodded, swallowing hard.
"Yeah, you too. Anything happens to you I'll kick your ass, ok?" the ninja replied. Ran smiled softly and before he knew what was happening Ken had reached over the distance between them and was crushing Ran in a bear hug.
"Come back in once piece." and then the brunet was gone, riding away, and not looking back. Ran stared after him until he disappeared into the city, and then slowly turned his own horse for the main gates. Gods, if Ken didn't come back in one piece, Takatori wasn't going to be the only one dead...
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Schuldig watched with a bored air as the last of the emperor's little group of pawns set themselves up for the evening. Beside him, Farferello shifted restlessly, muttering about something in a language the German had never heard and licking at a fresh wound he'd made on his arm before the telepath had been able to stop him. Yanagi, yet another pretentious Japanese bastard, sat opposite them, sipping at his tea with his eyes closed. Schuldig scowled at him in contempt and nudged Farferello into stillness. Brad owed him for this; big time. And it was gonna take more than just great sex. After all of this, Crawford could be the one dealing with all the damn nut cases.
"Are they in place yet?" the man across from them muttered. Schuldig's scowl melted into a sly fox's smile as he answered. Not that it mattered. Yanagi was rude enough to not even look at the two of them when he talked.
"I don't know. Isn't this your mission?" the German replied, unable to resist. Yanagi glared at him and said nothing. He looked out the window, but it was too late, Weiss was already gone. Idiot. Served him right for expecting service from people he treated like crap. With a sigh, the man rose.
"It doesn't matter. They should be well in place by now anyway." he levered Schuldig a contemptuous glare and then turned a suspicious gaze on Farferello. "I'm not in the mood to babysit tonight, so I don't care what Esstet told you, stay out of my way and we'll all be better off."
We most certainly will, my good man. Schuldig though charitably. Farferello, change in plans... he continued. When he felt he had the Irishman's attention, he pressed on. Hang Crawford. Tonight we'll sit back and watch the show. Be sure to give Weiss a hand my good fellow. We wouldn't want Yanagi to go disappointed...they're both dying to meet each other, after all... The German could feel Farferello's wicked grin as the man licked a dagger and shoved it into his belt. They followed Yanagi from the room.
"Are we clear?" Yanagi snapped, having wanted an answer from them. Schuldig smiled politely and lowered his eyes, effectively hiding the malicious gleam in them.
"Oh yes, perfectly. We'll be sure to stay far from your sight..." he blew out the lantern and slid the door shut.
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Ran stood in the shadows, waiting, watching, as the real servants in Takatori's estate scuttled to and fro, filling orders and completing chores. He had made sure to remain hidden from sight and yet within ear shot so that he was not selected for a task that would not take him to Takatori's private chambers.
He spent a few more moments, simply listening, until finally, the order he'd been waiting for was called out, and a male servant took off to bring Takatori a fresh bottle of warm sake. Ran followed him through dark halls and a dizzying number of turns until finally, they reached the outer door. It was guarded by two men who looked fairly difficult to take down. Ran made note of how the servant walked, what he said, and how he entered. He would have to be quick, and he would have to dispatch the guards outside first. The only way for him to do it was when they were unprepared and unexpectant. Something Ran loathed doing. It may have been necessary to the mission, but for Ran, the idea of defeating an opponent by taking him unawares made his skin crawl. It was dishonorable. Still, he had a mission to accomplish and a revenge to fulfill, and nothing would stand in his way. Absolutely nothing. Morals included.
Taking a final note of his surroundings and the main hallways used to come and go, Ran waited silently in the hallway just before Takatori's door, ready to catch the next servant unawares.
He hadn't long to wait. Another man came scurrying along hurriedly, carrying a tray bearing fresh tobacco and a clean pipe. Quickly, Ran snagged him around the neck before he could manage to make it within sight of the guards. In his other hand, he deftly caught the tray before it tipped and upset its contents, making more clamor than he could afford. The servant was unconscious immediately, and Ran dragged him out of sight, tucking him in a nearby empty room.
Adjusting his clothing, he reset the tray neatly, exactly has it had been before, and stoically set off for Takatori's room, wakezashi and katana concealed in his baggy servant's clothing. He was fortunate it was dim in the halls. If it had been bright enough, no amount of baggy clothing would have hid the suspicious stiffness about his clothes.
If he had expected to encounter any difficulties at the door, he was surprised. Both guards went down quite easily. A precise strike to the throat was all it took. Each guard went down quickly. Ensuring the sound of the guards falling to the floor didn't cause a racket was by far the more difficult part. But he managed to succeed, dropping the tray in the process, which covered the sound of bodies falling.
A rough voice from within bade him enter, followed by a rude comment about his clumsiness. Too bad Takatori's arrogance got in the way of his common sense. Ran's 'clumsiness' would be the facilitator of the daimyo's death. Wordlessly, he slipped inside.
"Where's your greeting boy?" the man ground out grumpily. He was sitting behind his black-lacquer desk, leaning his chin on his elbows and perusing a document of some sort. He did not even look up when the ronin entered. "And where's my damn pipe?" Ran said nothing as he approached the man. He knelt to one knee in front of the structure and lowered his head, sliding the tray on to the table. He didn't flinch when Takatori slapped his palm down on the smooth surface; hard.
"Dammit boy! Answer me! Where's your manners?" Ran felt his lips curl into a snarl. Finally, revenge was his.
"Right. Here." he growled out. Before Takatori could understand what was happening, there was a wakezashi blade at his throat. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to bellow for his guards. None came to answer his calls, and the tip pressed further into his skin, as if cutting through paper, spilling red ink from underneath.
"What do you want?" it was not a threat, nor a growl, nor a challenge. It was not the sound of a man begging or afraid. It was the sound of a man who is busy and wishes to be finished with an unpleasant or boring situation. The casual, curt tone infuriated Ran.
"My family's honor restored. Will you stand up and fight me like a man?" he hissed. Takatori smirked.
"Your funeral boy. But if that's what you want, fine, you'll have it. You going to let me stand and get a sword?"
"That depends. Are you going to follow the rules of swordplay conduct?" Ran shot back. Takatori raised both his hands.
"I swear upon the souls of my ancestors you'll have your 'fair' fight." Slowly, Ran withdrew his blade enough for Takatori to move. Sharp violet eyes watched the man walk to a closet painted with mountain pine forests and slide the doors aside, revealing three ornate sword racks. They glinted like greed in the dimness of the single lantern. The room was vast, and largely empty. Perfect for a fight. The daimyo pulled two katanas out and handed one to Ran casually.
"You going to fight me with something other than that little stick you've got there, boy?" the ronin growled. Takatori was treating him like a boy that needed to be beaten and taught a lesson. He would soon learn his mistake.
"I have my own with me." So saying, the red-head reached over one shoulder and pulled his katana from its sheath, where it had been strapped snugly against his spine. Uncomfortable, but worth it. Raising his eyebrows, Takatori put the other sword back.
"Least you came prepared. Can I ask to what occasion I owe this honor?" he asked as they drew their blades and faced each other in the traditional position. The tone dripped with disinterest.
"It wouldn't matter to you anyways. I'm sure you have no idea who the hell I am."
"Tell me anyways. It'll make an interesting story later." Ran felt his eyebrow twitch.
"Fujimiya, Ran. The only son of the Fujimiya household, that once resided in your fife." he spat with loathing. Takatori wasn't going to be around to tell any stories later. Not if Ran had his way. Recognition lit on Takatori's face.
"Oh yes. The Fujimiyas. Thought you were all dead. It's difficult to find competent help these days. " Ran tried very hard not to let his muscles spasm in rage.
"All. But. One." he ground out.
"Then I suppose I should take care of that. Enough talking. Let's get on with it."
"Fine. By. Me. "
And so the battle began, and Ran lunged into it with all his heart. Now was the only time he had, and now was the only time he'd ever need to make Takatori pay for his sins.
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Omi wandered down the hall at a brisk pace, his face a mask of eager determination. It wasn't a hard look to fake. Already, his efforts had gotten him thirteen illegal and dishonorable documents and deals, and several books of accounting, both fake and real. Not to mention the fact that he was having a wonderful time pissing everyone off.
No one seemed to have suspected anything more sinister than his excuse of being directionally challenged, and the worst he'd done so far, was in fact, annoy the cook. His youthful, innocent face softened even the hardest of hearts and grumpiest of moods. He hadn't been struck once yet for his mistakes, and the servants were even kindly enough to guide him in this direction or that when he stopped them to ask.
The results were that he'd almost finished his part of the mission within an hour. He wondered, briefly, how the others were faring, and paused when he caught sight of a 'sleeping' guard out in front of the wall through the window. He smiled to himself and kept walking.
It appeared they were doing fine, if that was any indication. The youth prayed their luck would hold up.
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So far, Yohji had told exactly twenty three fortunes, and distracted the lot of guards and servants gathered round him by predicting death in the future of the housekeeper. This put several of his crowd into a flutter, and details were demanded. Yohji let himself have a lot of fun making up something creative. He had a feeling the poor soul would never go near another fruit stand again.
This wild prediction, of course, coupled with his irresistible charm, drew several more customers, who demanded fortunes as creative as the housekeeper's. He'd been busy. So had at least half the household staff and several nearby bored-looking guards. Originally they'd come to stop him from soliciting , but grew interested in the goings-on, and were now held in the thrall, demanding their own fortunes to be read. Everyone wanted something exciting to be happening in their future; something dangerous, yet survivable. Quite ironic really, considering the circumstances of his visit. He wondered how the others were faring, and hoped things were going as easily, if not better. Especially in Ran's case. He couldn't help but think that although Ran deserved the right to his revenge, Ken should have been sent inside instead. The man was trained to slip in and past guards and servants without ever leaving a trace. Yohji had heard stories of ninja households. Before they'd burned Ken's as a funeral pyre, the young man had gone through and stomped on several random floor-boards which then jumped up to reveal a sheathed sword or weapon at the ready. It had been pretty damn impressive. So had the revolving walls that had looked so innocent.
Well, no sense in pondering now. It was up to Ran. They'd help him if it was necessary. Yohji's life as a spy simply gave him a distaste for making things messier than necessary.
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It was damn freaking cold out here. Ken was layered appropriately, but not too layered, or the weapons he'd concealed on his person would chance being detected. The scythe most tea-sellers carried to help them cut plants was securely in his belt at ready, and Ken was relieved to at least be allowed that. Of course, there was nothing to say that the two extremely hot and heavy vats of tea he bore couldn't also be used as weapons. So far, the guards Yohji hadn't distracted, and some of those he had, had fallen prey to Ken's special tea. He'd made the formula himself before they'd left Persia's compound, grinding it into a harmless looking powder that he'd dumped into the vat when it had been readily passed off to him by another Kritiker agent assigned to meet him. Omi had watched him with a sharp interest, and Ken wouldn't be surprised if he received some questions that evolved into lessons from the youth after the mission was over.Now he wandered seemingly aimlessly, within the estate walls. He'd been invited inside by a servant who had complained bitterly of the cold. The servants were fortunate to receive the regular tea. Any guards were not so lucky. Ken stared up at the looming structure of the house itself out of his peripheral vision, wondering when and how he would best enter. With a pang, the ninja wondered how Omi and Ran were doing. He could tell Yohji was doing well enough, if the crowd outside the gates was any indication. Although amusingly, the lanky spy had been too busy spinning yarns to notice him. Which was a good thing. If one of your own team didn't pay attention, then you were doing a good job.
"You there!" calmly, Ken looked up. A guard was waving him over.
"Bring us some tea! It's freezing out here!" bobbing his head politely, Ken wandered over slowly and began his task again.
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The fight with Takatori was turning out to be anti-climactic. It became clear to Ran after the first ten minutes that not only was Takatori older and out of shape from lack of practice, but the man's sword skills obviously hadn't been that grand to begin with. Panting now, the old man was doing more blocking than striking, and Ran was hard pressed to resist the urge to toy with him until he realized he was being toyed with and then murder the Daimyo in his humiliation. He would have deserved it.
And Ran wasn't thinking of only his own family. He was thinking of Ken's. Although the ninja had pointed out that the traitors had willingly betrayed their own kin, Takatori was still the man who had facilitated it, and he was still the man behind it, pulling all the strings. A betrayal might not have happened at all, if so successfully, without the daimyo requesting the devastation himself. For that alone, Ran wanted to kill Takatori in the most painful of possible ways. Never mind his own family, and the rage that brought on. To satisfy that rage, Ran would have to kill the man and then revive him to do it over and over again.
In any case, they were making an awful lot of racket, and someone was bound to catch on soon, if not already. Regretfully, the battle needed to end. With a patient and practiced move, breath still hardly labored, Ran blocked a strike to the head with fluent ease and slid inwards towards his attacker. In a quick movement, blade flashing briefly, his sword, the sword bequeathed to him by his master, moved in a graceful arch, slicing along the flesh of Takatori's ribs and down towards his hips. The man fell back heavily, blinking at Ran in shock for a moment.
"You…you've been holding back?" he stuttered. Ran smirked maliciously.
"I had wanted more of a fight." the ronin spat. Takatori's gaze darkened, the silver-tongued politician suddenly peering out from his eyes.
"So, you really think my death is going to make you feel better about that silly scandal?" Ran growled.
"Yes."
"I'm lying on the floor in my own blood. Tell me, do you feel better yet?" The ronin tilted his head to the side, considering.
"Yes." Takatori blinked in surprise before his lips curved into a wicked smile.
"You know, of course, that doesn't make you any better than me?" This time it was Ran's turn to smile frighteningly. He tilted his sword for the killing strike.
"I never had any illusions about that before I came here. My goal is not to be above or below. You already saw to that. I want only revenge." he snarled viciously, bringing the blade tip to touch the skin on the daimyo's chest, just above his heart.
"Revenge? For what? The death of your family? It wasn't I who ordered them to be murdered. Your own father took care of that on his own, without my command." the sword vibrated dangerously, but Ran made no reply. Takatori laughed bitterly.
"Ah yes. Didn't think of that did you. Of the two of us, who is the murdered? I've never raised a hand to anyone. Your father chose to kill his wife and daughter, as well as himself. Who then, is the killer?" and the daimyo pushed too far. Ran growled, and shoved the blade through his heart violently. Takatori fell against the floor with a jerk, his back arching in the final death throes before he grew still. Above him, Ran panted, blade still firmly sheathed between Takatori's ribs; directly in his heart. Staring into dying eyes, the ronin made his final speech.
"My father chose to kill himself after the disgrace you put upon our family. You have not murdered one, you have murdered hundreds, possibly thousands with your actions. Karma understands that action causes reaction, which creates the never-ending cycle. If you cause the water in a pond to ripple and drown the insects upon it, who is the killer? The man who has caused the ripples or the ripples themselves? I am here to ensure you will never cause such devastation again." So saying, the red-head wrenched the blade in Takatori's chest, enjoying the way he writhed in pain. Placing a foot below his blade, he yanked it from the wound, and watched with a greedy satisfaction as blood welled to the surface spilling out. The daimyo's mouth opened, no doubt to utter a parting curse, but Ran had seen to it the man could say nothing. Instead, blood spurted from pale lips and then the daimyo lay still, eyes clouded and staring at nothing. Ran remained, panting and staring, trying to make his world fit together again. He wondered if this is what Ken had felt like when he had killed Kase. He wondered if it felt this…empty.
"And Karma will come for me too, someday, to take payment for my sins." Turning, he slid open a window and peered around. He was still on the ground level, and the room faced a garden, unoccupied at the moment. Nodding to himself, Ran jumped gracefully over the window ledge and into the night, pulling a small, soundless whistle from his sleeve.
Moments later, a small pigeon flew down and landed on his forearm. The ronin carefully laid his still naked blade on the earth and dug into a small secret pocket until he felt the frail seeds of grain. He selected three; grey, dark blue, and dark green, and placed them carefully in the vile, sealing it. With a flick of his wrist, the bird was off. Ran settled into the shadows and waited, cleansing his sword first in earth, and then with his cloth. A reply would arrive shortly.
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The distinct yet slight sound of flapping got Ken's attention, and he turned from his idle perusal of the servant's outdoor station to scan the sky. There was a slight shadow, flying above him in the dark against the starlight sky, and the ninja smiled, pulling a small whistle from his sleeve and darting around a dark corner.
When the bird landed, he eyed the rice in the vial and added an extra two grains of his own; another grey, and then an orange, and sent the bird off to Yohji. Looking around, he discovered himself to be underneath two windows, at the second story, but in an otherwise low-traffic area. Gracefully, he discarded his tea vats off to one side, grateful to get the weight off his shoulder before removing his outer tunic to reveal clothing that was a dull, dark brown-grey. Perfect for blending into the shadows of a house. Sliding his hand-claws into place, with an extra spike apparatus on the palm-side, he began to scale the wall, quickly and efficiently, to the second story window that was dark.
He reached it with little incidence and slipped inside, creeping quietly to the door and sliding it aside the tiniest crack. He was rewarded with the sight of a servant guiding a bewildered looking Omi in his direction. How very fortunate. Smirking, the brunet tugged slightly at the cloth over his nose and mouth, and waited patiently until they were close enough.
Apparently, Omi noticed, for as they drew parallel to the door, he tripped, causing both himself and the servant to fall into the room as Ken silently and quickly opened and closed the door. The servant was unconscious before he could make a sound. The youth turned to Ken expectantly, and he tugged the cloth from his nose and mouth.
"Got word from Ran. He's finished and waiting in the garden. Sent it to Yohji, told him I was waiting and I'd find you. " the ninja whispered quietly. Omi nodded.
"Good, then let's get into position and wait for word from the others." Ken nodded, and carefully, they slipped soundlessly into the hallway, and down the corridor.
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Elsewhere, Schuldig smirked, the mental signatures reaching him through the sake in his brain. Brad would have scolded him for drinking on the job, but then Brad wasn't dealing with this misery, so he could go fuck himself. Besides, everything was falling into place. Turning, he favored Yanagi with a good-natured smirk the man didn't deserve.
"Takatori is dead." he said simply, sounding ornately pleased. He'd fed off of that telepathic signature and the ronin's the most. Delicious. He'd share all the details with Brad later. The man had, after all, given him the opportunity to witness that at least. Yanagi simply scowled and said nothing. He left them with a meaningful glance as he rose and departed. Schuldig's responding smile was acid.
Let's go have our own fun, Farfie.
Can we now? I want to make that man's insides into the shape of a horse.
All in good time deary. Let's go watch the show.
Murdering in the dark makes God cry. Mentally, Schuldig rolled his eyes.
Of course it does, Farfie, of course it does… And with that, they made their own departure; into the shadows.
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Waaaahhhh! I did it! I updated! Aren't you proud?
Anyways, I'm sorry if this chapter suffers from distraction. Please bare with me. As always, THANK YOU for your reviews. I love to read them all, and they inspire me to keep going in this madness. Ta for now!
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