Ha ha! No one suspects….an UPDATE! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

But that's just what I've brought you. Finally. Enjoy!

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"And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—"

Alfred Noyes, The Highwayman

Edo, Chapter 17

Farferello was grinning maniacally as he slid open the torn, faded shoji and let his falcon fly into their shack. The formidable bird landed on his offered forearm without missing a beat, fluffed his feathers slightly, tilted his head to the side, and squawked once. Grumbling, Schuldig reached out reluctantly, and placed two fingers atop the bird's skull while the madman stroked its feathers soothingly. God, but he hated plumbing the minds of animals, even if at times they gave information of utmost importance. As in this moment. Dark Prince had been gone quite some time, and the German was certain that meant good things.

His foray into the falcon's mind was blessedly brief and informative. When his fingers came away, his eyes opened into narrow slits and a feline grin curled the corners of his mouth. Yes. This was all going to work out rather splendidly. Schuldig took a moment to applaud himself for his genius.

"Well?" came the tense prompt from the Irishman beside him. Dark Prince shifted restlessly on a pale forearm, talons releasing ribbons of red against the fragile, pale skin.

"All our pawns are in place. None of them have a clue. And the fireworks begin in 3…2….1…" both Shuldig and Farferello's expectant tenseness was ended with the sound of a huge explosion. It rocked the earth beneath them and filled the dark velvet skies with an angry orange heat. Shuldig's smile widened.

"Shall we shepherd the lost sheep?" the Irishman's question was laced with an insane delight.

"Oh yes, I think we shall. It wouldn't due for Weiss to miss their appointment. And I long to be rid of that bloody imbecile as well. Come Farferello. Remember, we musn't kill the white king's men just yet. There's still quite a game to be played." Farferello nodded eagerly.

"Oh yes, I remember." he breathed eagerly. The German threw his cassock over his shoulders and tipped his hat down over his eyes as the Irishman replaced the hood over his falcon's eyes.

"Come. We go."

Into the darkness.

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Yohji was concentrating on following his own specific escape plan, laid out to each of them before the mission, when he caught the first sight of Schwartz. He'd received the warning earlier, and so the encounter was not unexpected. But that was not to say that it was wanted.

In fact, the last thing Yohji wanted to do right now, with panicking servants and a roaring house-fire at his back, was run into Schwartz. Especially since he was pretty damn sure they'd put themselves in his path, deliberately.

"Greetings. Yohji, was it?" the smarmy, arrogant voice of Schuldig sent Yohji skin crawling. Glaring, he grit his teeth and set his shoulders back, coming to an abrupt halt.

"I don't have time for pleasantries. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little occupied at the moment." he growled in response. Schuldig laughed. Beside him, Farferello stood, his expression eerily vacant and yet intense in the way that only insanity could render it. He was oddly motionless, like a puppet with it's strings poised for a performance.

"Indeed you don't. At this moment, there is another enemy I would worry about if I were you…" the German trailed off suggestively. Misreading the comment, Yohji growled slightly.

"If you're planning to take me—"

"Oh Weiss. I wouldn't dream of it. Fighting one of you wouldn't even be marginally entertaining. I'd prefer to wait for all four of you to be present for that. In the mean time, I wish to offer a polite….alert." The red-haired demon look alike tripped carefully through his sentences, and Yohji could practically see the verbal traps he was setting.

"Then deliver your alert and be done with it!" the brunet snapped impatiently. He really needed to get out of here. Schwartz made him far too uncomfortable.

" Now, now, no need to be touchy, my lad. By the way, brilliant job with all this." Schuldig waved his hand airily around, indicating the quickly disintegrating estate around them. "How is ninja-boy anyway? He put on a rather entertaining show earlier." Yohji's expression went tight with frigid rage.

"He's fucking dandy, no thanks to you. And you'd better stay the hell away from him. Now get the fuck out of my way." the playboy ground out, tired of playing games and getting edgy about the encroaching nearness of the pandemonium around them.

"Oh, but it isn't us you should be worrying about." the red-head purred, his head moving closer to Yohji with an air of secret knowledge. Yohji froze.

"What did you do to him you bastards?" he scowled angrily.

"Nothing. We're here talking to you of course. Honestly Yohji, I thought you were smarter than that. Apparently not." Suddenly he and Farferello were moving back, their shadowed forms melting into blackness. Yohji caught sight of the familiar falcon resting on Farferello's arm as they disappeared.

"Dammit Schuldig! What the hell was that supposed to mean?" he roared into the darkness. Schuldig's laugh seemed to reverberate around his skull.

'That's a secret. Perhaps you should try figuring it out. I'd hurry if I were you…'

Cursing and not thinking about the invasion into his thoughts, Yohji took off at a dead run for their meeting point, no longer concerned with being seen. Let them mistake him for another fleeing victim. Right now, he had to find the rest of Weiss. Ken's life may very well depend upon it. And damn if Yohji wasn't getting tired of the rest of the world viewing Ken as target practice.

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According to the fallout plan, Ken and Omi were to get themselves to the meeting place first. As their position was the deepest in the house, it was likely that they would be the target of any assassins-cum-servants, should word or alarm break out. Ken and Omi were chosen to infiltrate the depths of the compound for many reasons With Ken's skills as a ninja and Omi's as a spy (Hey, Yohji wasn't the only one…), coupled with Yohji's recognizability potential and Ran's lack of espionage skills, the two younger members of Weiss had been the best choice.

Now, however, as both men ran quietly beside each other, expertly dodging fleeing servants and flaming debris, it seemed plans were about to go awry. Their first clue occurred when Omi suddenly gave a sharp cry and fell, mid-step, to the earth with a heavy sound, causing Ken to screech to a halt and whirl around frantically. He raced back to the youth and turned him over gingerly, cursing softly at the small patch of crimson blossoming to the upper left, where the youth's chest began to give way to his shoulder. He made to remove his hand-claws, to tend the wound, pulling Omi's head carefully into his lap, when a surprisingly firm grip on his writs stopped him.

"Ken-kun, no. Let's…let's go. I can make it. We'll tend it later." The youth panted.

"Well yes, perhaps someone will tend it later, but it won't be Ken." A voice called from the wall of flame beyond. They were steadily being surrounded, Ken realized, trapped in the courtyard by a steadily growing wall of fire. And Ken already knew who was waiting for him. Omi had to get out of here.

"Omi, go. Get out." he grunted, pulling the youth up. Omi's protest was cut-off by that disgustingly familiar voice.

"No. If you want him to live, Hidaka, you're going to have to get past me. Lucky for both of you I felt generous enough to leave my poisoned-darts in my other sleeve. "

And so saying, Yanagi stepped into the wild orange light, face arrogant and calculating. He was gloating, Ken realized, and he hadn't even won the battle. Yet. Gods, what was it with all these people underestimating him? Beside him, Omi tensed, and Ken put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. In the next instant he used that hand to pull Omi out of danger's path once more. He growled.

"You wanna fight? Fine. Bring it on. But you fight me first. Leave the kid out of it." If Omi wasn't in such pain he might have dredged up the energy to frown disapprovingly at Ken's reference to him being a 'kid'. Yanagi only threw his head back and laughed.

"You've forgotten the rules already? Anyone is fair game my dear boy. Anyone."

And the game was begun.

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Ran felt sick when he reached the clearing and saw only Yohji standing there, a disturbed look on his face. He was sporting the same shade of grey as the time he'd come to warn Ran that Kase had only returned to see Ken off to an early grave.

"Where are—" the playboy cut him off, grabbing his arm and wasting no time in launching them back towards the fray.

"Schwartz is here. And so is Yanagi." that was all the brunet had to say before Ran shook him off and charged full-speed towards the place that Omi and Ken should have come from. The Gods help anyone if Ken was harmed. Or Omi for that matter. Ran was getting damn tired of having to worry over the lives of his comrades. And dammit if he wasn't going to have some blood to show for it this night.

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Yanagi squinted through the thick smoke in the air, belatedly realizing that he'd likely picked a poor place to battle. Then again, he'd expected to have finished both Hidaka and his companion before the flames got anywhere near him. He'd wanted to leave their bodies to be burned neatly, so as to leave no trace.

Damn it all if Hidaka hadn't gotten better than he'd been the last time Yanagi had seen him. The young man before him was not the same unsure youth with low self-esteem and a blinding naiveté. Yanagi supposed Kase had seen to the death of that. Ken had removed his shirt and his darker skin seemed to blend with the shadows and the brilliant flares of color in the flames, making it nearly impossible for him to predict the ninja's strikes, to see his muscle-movements.

Any attempts to gain the upper hand by exploiting Ken's comrade had been nill, as despite such a painful injury, the youth seemed to hold well enough on his own. He followed the fight with a skilled patience, seemingly able to track both their moves with more ease than he had a right to. Yanagi knew as well that he had wound up with the disadvantage. Pale skin and white hair set against the darkness of his clothing now stood-out easily against angry orange flames. The assassin was regretting not using poisoned darts on the younger man now. As it was, both men dodged his shots quite well since they were expecting them. Added to the fact that his aim was off due to the smoke.

Ken had smartly wrapped his mouth-cloth back around his head, and seemed to be faring rather well. Steeling himself, Yanagi resolved not to let the younger man keep that upper hand.

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Omi watched with wide, apprehensive eyes as the battle raged on. At the same time his peripheral vision marked the progress of the raging inferno around them, and his nervousness grew slightly deeper. Gods, if Ken didn't hurry up, they were all going to die.

But it seemed that despite his best efforts, Ken was unable to best his opponent. His bare chest glistened with sweat and the blood from minor wounds. The ninja barley reflected an attack in time to throw himself to the ground in a move that looked unbalanced and knock Yanagi's feet out from under him. Disappointingly, the older man refused to be felled, and he simply flipped backwards and out of Ken's immediate reach.

With a frustrated sound, Ken lunged forward forcefully, like lightening, and made several precise, quick slashes at Yanagi, all skillfully and coolly dodged by the silver-headed ninja.

And somehow, it made Omi realize how young Ken really was. His moves, although expert, had the quick sureness of youth; a slight arrogance and desire to simply be done with things, and a surety that he would be the one to end them, if only his opponent would just bloody hold still. The brunet's muscles glinted in the light, beneath skin still young and fresh, everything firm and ready, tense and waiting.

Yanagi moved slowly, like a man who could fight for eternity if he had to, and by all means, expected to. Where he lacked Ken's vivacity and youthful eagerness, he made up for it with age and a wisdom that went a long way in understanding the battlefield.

This could last forever, the young prince decided.

And they didn't have forever. In fact, they didn't even have five minutes. Regretting his decision, Omi reached slowly into his sleeve, pulling several poisoned shuriken. He palmed them between his fingers and waited, striving to make himself look as if he were only watching and nothing else. It didn't matter. Both men had ceased to pay attention to him.

With an accuracy many would have found astounding in one so young and aristocratic, Omi unleashed two of his darts. One flew straight and true, into the ribs along Yanagi's side. The other was deflected instinctually, and nearly lodged itself into Ken's heart, had the ninja not had quick reflexes. Yanagi gasped and clutched at his side, but Ken wasted no time. Lunging forward, the ninja buried both of Ryuuta's hand claws to the hilt in the other man's chest. He snarled, wrenching them out viciously as Yanagi fell forward, coughing blood, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"That was for Takeshi. And Ryuuta." the ninja spat, bounding backwards to prevent Yanagi from latching on to him and potentially trying a sneak attack.

"Too close-minded and arrogant, old man." the insult heaped to the injury, Ken whipped out his wakezashi and sliced Yanagi's head off in one fell swoop. He caught it by the hair as it fell, letting the body fall to the ground with and undignified 'thump'. Sheathing his weapon, he turned to Omi.

"Thanks. Let's get the hell out of here." he murmured, wrapping the youth in his discarded haori. He secured Yanagi's head to a rope at his waist and then helped the youth towards the wall of flame. They both looked up, considering. Omi didn't like the looks of any of it. Before he could say anything, however, Ken motioned for him to wait, and darted off towards a corner, head swinging with his movements like a grisly purse of gold. When he returned, he carried two buckets; one which he dumped over Omi's head, and another he dumped over his own.

Without giving Omi time to protest or ask, he grabbed the youth roughly and launched them full-force into the wall of flames.

Omi closed his eyes, and prayed to the Gods.

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Ran was understandably enraged at having his path to Ken cut-off rather abruptly. There were a select few who saw the rage of Fujimiya Ran, when directed at them, and lived to tell about it.

Fortunatley, Schuldig seemed to be doing this with incredible ease. After all, he'd had to make sure they at least looked like they'd tired to tangle with Weiss. He could see Farferello out of the corner of his eye, gleefully hacking at a cursing Yohji. A shame. He rather found Weiss more intriguing than most of their Japanese brethren. That whole outside-of-society thing he supposed.

He sidestepped easily and dodged a katana coming at him with enough force to likely sever stone. It didn't nearly manage to sever the smirk that had yet to leave his face, and that, coupled with his still-neat clothing, seemed to infuriate Ran further. Which in turn made his moves increasingly wild, although none-too lacking in the force department. The man was certainly lucky Schuldig was not out to kill him this night, and he locked away the knowledge of Ran's berserker reactions to anything dealing with the dark-haired ninja of Weiss. Thus far, Ran had taken far more injury than he'd given. And Schuldig didn't think he'd ever had more fun.

He was readying himself to award the ronin a slight prick against his sword—an attempt to teach the red-head that thinking with his head might be prudent, when a smoldering weight landed atop him, sending him crashing heavily and disorientingly to the ground. It sat heavily upon him, and the telepath belatedly realized, once his head stopped spinning, that he couldn't move his arms. They were pinned between someone's knees. Someone's very charred and sooty knees, that reeked of woodsmoke and burnt flesh. He cursed, fluidly. Atop him, Ken Hidaka pressed the blades of his hand-claws into the back of the German's neck and growled in a manner not unlike a very angry guard-dog. The young Prince Omi squeaked in surprise somewhere beside him. Far-off, Farferello was laughing in a less maniacal way, and a way that spoke more of a man who's just seen something incredibly humorous. Like Schuldig getting squished by a flaming brown-haired ninja. Sometimes life was just not fair.

Farferello's laughter suddenly ended abruptly with what sounded like a strangled noise. Great. Crawford was going to skin him alive when they got back. Assuming they would. Weiss' mental state was not exactly cheery or of any form of saintly patience. Nor were they in the mood for game-playing.

Then again, Crawford had probably foreseen this, and was laughing off his ass about it. In his own 'show no emotion' sort of way of course. That damn bloody arrogant smirk. Schuldig hated that smirk.

Just as suddenly as he had fallen, there came a squawking noise above him and the weight was slowly lifted off. In front of him somewhere, the ronin berserker yelled out "Ken! Omi!" That gave the telepath a pretty good clue as to what was going on.

Hurry-up, dammit, I don't have all night. The next time you want to play games, Crawford can save you himself. Nagi's mental voice was music to Schuldig's ears. He was up and out of the way swiftly even as Farferello was doing the same thing. Knowing the youth could only hold three of their enemies at once for only so long, the German grabbed his partner in crime and made a hasty, melting exit into the shadows.

This isn't over, Weiss. He hissed in parting.

And then Schwartz was gone.

Ken and Omi thumped painfully to the ground, the ninja using his body to shield the already injured prince from further damage, and Yohji's previously still form came suddenly to life.

Ran bolted forward and threw his arms around both Ken and Omi in an uncharacteristic display. It lasted for only a moment before he pulled back and regarded the two of them with sharp eyes.

"Status?" Yohji inquired coolly, brushing off his clothing as he approached. Omi sighed wearily.

"Mission complete. And Yanagi is dead." his voice sounded flat. Weiss' faces were grim as they looked at each other.

" And it would seem Weiss has made an enemy." the prince concluded. Stiffly, the four trod off towards home. There was nothing else they could do, at the moment.

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Yeah, crap. Updated. Finished Yanagi. Takatori is dead. The next arc will be just as complicated, so please don't expect a speedy update. I'll be leaving on a jet plane in 12 days. Arriving in America in 17. Wish me luck. And my kitty to: ) We're theorizing she's at least part Siberian. That just tickles me. Ja ne!

I'm off to write my farewell speech. Ugh. In Japanese. Talk about luck…

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