Part Two
"Tell us then...Shioshiro...what is it you wish to discuss?"
A non-too gentle nudge from Ran pushes the man forward and he stumbles, almost falling into Ken, who is still standing rather close. Shioshiro is undaunted by the Weiss leader's uncaring nature, however; he grins at Ken as he rights himself and extends a gloved hand in greeting.
"Is it asking too much for proper introductions from you?" he prompts.
Ken stares at that hand, not trusting this stranger one bit, and Shioshiro understandingly, though seemingly disheartened, lowers his arm back to his side.
"Seems you already know us, kiddo." Youji comments from behind them. He has long since placed his wire back within its watch guise, and strides forward confidently. Omi follows close at his heels. "Besides, if you're only giving us one name, since I'm pretty certain you know the whole package concerning ours, you're the one with the advantage right now. And I don't like that."
Side by side, Omi and Youji come parallel with Ken, all three passing their own forms of judgment on the mysterious figure before them. Omi and Youji seem to take notice of the young man's idiosyncratic eyes at the same time and suddenly understand why Ken seems so flustered.
Ran, who has come around to stand beside their guest, peers into Shioshiro's face for the first time. If he is as shocked as the others, he hides it well. "You want introductions. Tell us yourself."
Another flash of white teeth. "I suppose you have me there. I know all of you...quite well." Shioshiro admits with a mockingly sheepish tilt of his head. His smile is just as charmingly disarming, and his obvious sense of ease makes the members of Weiss increasingly more uncomfortable. "You are Fujimiya Ran." He nods to Ran. "Though I believe you go by Aya more often. And you are Hidaka Ken." He turns to Ken, his grin twitching somewhat sinister. "Kudo Youji." He moves on. "And Tsukiyono Omi. Also known as Takatori Mamoru." He finishes. "Am I correct?"
The boys offer no acknowledgement; their silence is answer enough.
"I know everything about you." Shioshiro continues, looking again to each member in turn. His gaze takes final rest on Ken, who wishes he knew what could possibly be so damn, bloody fascinating about him to be stared at with such interest. "You are Weiss. Abyssinian, Siberian, Balinese, and Bombay. You run a flower shop as cover for slaughtering villains at night. You are friends, but strained friends. You have pasts you want to forget, but never can. And tonight...you are running from Tokyo after battling an enemy you were barely able to defeat. Stop me if I've made any errors, won't you?"
"Enough." Ran growls, gripping his sword more tightly, like a gunner's itchy trigger finger. "Your knowledge will save you no more than your mouth, so I hope your history lesson is not all you have to speak to us about."
"You said...you were here to help us." Omi puts in, his crossbow limp at his side. He finds Shioshiro's eyes just as curious as Ken and Youji, but does not distrust them nearly as much. "If that is true, then...who sent you here?"
Again, a smile. "You did." Shioshiro says simply. "My mission is a complicated one, but one I will complete no matter the cost, and you are the very people who sent me to complete it."
Though Omi looks highly interested in what Shioshiro has said, Ran's expression holds no trace of trust. "And how exactly did we send you here without having any knowledge of it?" he accuses. "We have never met. We know nothing of you. It is a bold lie you are peddling, Shioshiro-san."
Shioshiro seems to enjoy Ran's challenge. "I assure you, I am not lying." He answers boldly.
"Then what are you?" comes Ken's sudden addition to the conversation. He nearly swallows his words back when both Ran and Shioshiro simultaneously turn their violet eyes on him. He takes a breath. "I mean...if you're saying we sent you here, even though we've never met you, then...then just who the hell are you? Some punk kid from the future?"
A grin this time. A far too pleased grin. "Good for you, Kento. You guessed after barely any hints." Shioshiro winks. He slowly turns to face the others, grandly accepting their skeptical looks. "A hard thing to believe, I know, but the reason you don't know me is because we haven't yet met. I am 20 years old, but that birthday won't even happen for another 30 years."
One can easily imagine responses to such claims; Ran stands angrily aloof, Youji holds back a shallow laugh, Omi gapes at the sheer possibility of Shioshiro actually speaking the truth, and Ken...looks suddenly petrified.
Shioshiro holds up his hands as if held at gunpoint, smiling brilliant at the varied expressions directed so intently at him. "I know not all of you believe me, but I swear to you it's true. Considering some of the things you have seen, Schwartz's powers to say the least, I would think you would have little problem believing something as elementary as time travel." He laughs at this, almost as if he expects to be joined, but is undaunted when silence is his only reward.
"You...really are from the future...?" Omi asks at length, eyes wide with wonder as every little bit of his scientific self analyzes such a reality.
Youji practically doubles over in disbelief. "You believe this guy, Omi? Are you crazy?" he asks incredulously, a sneer forming on his lips as he glares in Shioshiro's direction. "Powers are one thing—there's been proof on psychics and telepaths forever—but time travel is nothing more than a well-played myth out of the movies. This kid's full 'a shit."
"But how can we be sure?" Omi shoots back, practically up on his toes with excitement. "Science has never been able to completely disprove the possibility, and if people like Schwartz can exist than how is this any less likely?"
"Uhh...question." Ken breaks in, raising one hand slightly as if to ask permission from a teacher. "If it is possible, what are the chances we're actually the ones who sent you?" he asks of Shioshiro, no longer willing to be silenced by those watchful eyes. "I mean, if it's possible, wouldn't it be more possible for people in Estet?"
Shioshiro doesn't know quite how to answer this and his smile seems to lose a little of its luster. The air goes silent. The only one still holding his tongue is Ran, though he watches Shioshiro like a speculative hawk, deciding whether or not to devour, destroy, or set free.
A quick shift in weight and the sound of air being sliced and Ran's sword is suddenly dangerous again. Shioshiro gasps as the blade swings up sharply to rest just below his chin.
Violet eyes meet in the dark. "You seem fearful." Ran mocks, though his voice is as thinly set as his lips. "Has my comrade pegged correctly? I have no trouble believing you are from where you say, because we have seen enough to know such a thing may be possible. However, it is far more likely that our enemies are the ones who sent you. It seems you have much to prove if you wish to keep your life."
"Prove...?" Shioshiro repeats, unconvincingly attempting to restore his smile.
Ran gives a slow, purposeful nod. "First you will prove you are who you say, then you will prove you were sent by who you say. Fail to do either and this night shall indeed be your last."
The sword falls away but Ran moves instantly into action, stepping forward to grasp one of Shioshiro's arms before heading for the side doors of the RV. He opens them wide and steps up inside, dragging a somewhat floundering Shioshiro behind.
Ken looks to Youji, who looks to Omi, who offers a shrug, before all turn to follow the pair inside.
-----
Minutes later, the five young men sit around the RV's living room; Youji back on the couch, Omi in his computer chair, Ken at the table, Ran leaning against the right wall, and Shioshiro standing in the middle. Weapons have not been put away, still at the ready should need arise, and all focus remains intently on Weiss's uninvited guest.
"You have five minutes." Ran informs the center of attention. "You say you're from the future—prove it."
Shioshiro tenses; he clearly had not believed he would be called on to perform. He smiles all the while, attempting to hide his distress, and though the expression maintains much of its charm, it has clearly lost its power.
Ken couldn't be happier. After all, it is much harder to fear someone who is suddenly afraid of you.
"Prove it..." Shioshiro repeats, turning in place to be sure he is aware of everyone's positions. "I guess...the only way I can do that...is to prove I will one day know all of you. Because if I know you, then I know things about you, so...all you have to do is ask me questions only someone who knows you well would know."
Were the young brunette a bird, his feathers would be ruffled up in pride; he is rather pleased with himself for having thought up such a clever solution.
Weiss says nothing, but there is no need for protest. Shioshiro's terms are fair and may even shed a little light on whether or not he has been sent by someone trustworthy. They look to one another and silently come to a consensus. Ran—appointed leader—catches Shioshiro's attention and nods his assent.
"Ask away then." Shioshiro smiles, looking perfectly at home again. "Keep in mind, though, that even someone who knows you better than you know yourselves doesn't always know everything."
Ken suppresses a grin; that sounds like something he would say.
"We have to be careful." Omi mentions thoughtfully. "The questions we ask have to be about things people from Schwartz and Estet wouldn't know. Things they wouldn't be able to find out. But it can't be things no one would know, either."
"Exactly." Shioshiro beams. He evidently believes he is in the clear already.
Each member of Weiss looks to another, silently hoping someone else will come up with a suitable suggestion.
"So...I guess asking what my favorite color is won't cut it." Youji states with a lopsided grin. Apparently, no one finds this funny.
"Everything that's coming to mind is something an Estet agent could easily have dug into." Ken slumps, head falling to land in the crook of his arms as they rest upon the table. He notices Shioshiro's eyes turning to him often, but avoids making contact, hoping to ignore the devout attention. What could possibly be so special about him?
"I have something." Omi speaks in a small, contemplative voice, catching Shioshiro's gaze. "If we know each other well, if we're...friends, then I must have talked to you about school. I'd be...47 or so in your time, right? So...you're suggesting we're...mentors for you of sorts, yes?"
Shioshiro nods in mild admiration. "I'd say that's a good way to put it." He smiles. "And yes, we've talked about school many times. You were probably the person I turned to most on that account. When I could, anyway."
Omi sits a little stiffer in his chair; this situation is just far too weird. "Okay then...what was my favorite subject?" he asks, sounding hesitant but still confident in his choice.
The others remain silent, only Youji offering any real acknowledgement in the form of an agreeable nod.
Shioshiro seems thoughtful, seemingly thinking the question over very carefully. After a moment, his smile returns with a vengeance. "Easy. Computer Science--"
"Wrong."
"Is what you TELL everyone." Shioshiro finishes triumphantly.
Omi deflates, his smile from seconds before instantly vanishing.
"But your real favorite was always...poetry. You enjoyed escaping in it, or so you once told me."
The look on dear Omi's face dismisses any possibility that Shioshiro has answered wrong, and the air inside the RV turns stale.
Ken is no longer slouched at the table and Youji's persistent skepticism is quickly crumbling to the floor. Only Ran clings to his doubts, violet eyes narrowing into slits of wisteria fire.
"I would lose that smug expression were I in your position." He warns, sword still gripped firmly in impatient anticipation. He pushes from the wall, taking a few deliberate steps closer to the young man failing so miserably at smiling off the redhead's approach. "Omi's question was clever but still open. It could easily have been surmised." Ran finishes.
"Surmised?" Shioshiro snaps back, his smile gone as his own violets narrow in far too similar an expression. "How do you surmise something like that? It's opinion. The only way I could know is if Omi-jisan told me."
Omi's eyes widen and he nearly topples off his chair. Omi-jisan? Uncle Omi? Him? It just sounds too strange.
Shioshiro takes note of the varyingly shocked expressions directed at him and offers a nervous laugh. His folly is unintentional; he had not meant to refer to Omi in such a way. It almost forces Ran to wonder if the young man is speaking the truth after all.
Almost.
"It could still be surmised, opinion or not, especially with the possibility of Estet having sent you. You're going to have to do better than that."
Shioshiro subdues a little of the fire still lingering in his eyes, standing taller in acceptance of Ran's challenge. "Then why don't you come up with something?" he pushes.
"Because this is all nonsense!" Ran barks back, his knuckle gone white in gripping his katana too tightly. "My experiences make it possible to believe you are from another time, but how you prove that may be influenced by our enemies. How do we know you're not a telepath like the one we have faced in the past?"
A huff. "Because I'd be doing a much better job convincing you. If I was a telepath, I'd make you believe me."
"True enough. But you're still going to have to offer better proof than a mere guessing game."
"Then give me a question I couldn't guess the answer to no matter what. You're the one passing judgment without a fair trial. If you want proof then let me give it. Ask me something about you. Anything."
Ran twitches; he does not like insubordination, and Shioshiro is confidently getting right in his face.
At the table, Ken sits transfixed. Those violet glares are so similar; he would almost swear they are coming from the same person. And that unsettles him. He doesn't like any of this. The future is uncertain and he prefers it that way. When you know what's coming, you truly feel the responsibility for all you have done.
Youji and Omi feel rather excluded at this point. Ran is clearly taking the largest role in confronting their guest, and Ken seems to be getting all the rest of Shioshiro's attention. And so they watch, anxious to see where all of this will bring them.
"You want a challenge, then I will give you one." Ran speaks proudly, head high and sword a little too at the ready. "You know us well you say."
"Very."
"How well?"
Shioshiro ponders on that a moment. "Intimately well." He answers with a mischievous grin.
Youji 'hmph's and Omi nearly falls off his chair again. Ken swallows—hard. Ran is unperturbed.
"As intimate as close friends and family, of course." Shioshiro corrects himself, though there is little doubt whether or not he meant for the misleading comment to be taken wrong.
"Fine." Ran affirms. "In that case...if you speak the truth...then you must know some of our pasts."
"Quite a bit actually."
"Childhood?"
"A number of things. Mostly things about...heh...you."
Ran shifts in place, eyes intently glaring all the while. "So is your claim. Then answer me this..." Ran begins to pace, back and forth in front of Shioshiro from where Ken is sitting at the table to near Youji on the couch. "I have a sister."
"Aya." Shioshiro supplies eagerly.
Ran nods, his face expressionless. "We grew up in Tokyo, lived there all our lives. When we were very young, we had a pet. A dog."
"What, you want the name of the dog? The breed?"
"He was a small dog, a mutt." Ran continues, ignoring Shioshiro's interruptions. "We called him Yuki because he was white like the snow. One summer, he took ill and we were forced to put him down. Aya cried for days. We were told by our parents to let the animal clinic cremate him, but we didn't want to leave him there. We took his body and buried him in the backyard. Our parents found out we had taken the dog and made us tell them where he was. When we explained, they accepted it without questioning where we had buried him, and we never spoke of it again."
The room is deathly silent. It is odd to hear Ran speak so openly, despite his characteristic blank features and even voice. Shioshiro too has lost his smug expression, listening almost reverently.
"Now, my question for you...is not a question, but for you to finish the story." Ran explains. "There is something I haven't added, something important. I consider no one to be as close to me as you presume you are, so if you are indeed being honest, tell me what I have failed to mention."
Ran's pacing stops abruptly in front of Shioshiro. They stare. Shioshiro seems confident, but no longer overly so as he had been before. He returns Ran's gaze boldly, but with a sense of respect he had been lacking before now.
The others watch closely, on the edge of their respective seats. Whether this is a match of wits, knowledge, or something else, something...even more intangible, they cannot even begin to guess.
Shioshiro takes a small, audible breath. "You play hard-ball, alright. But you underestimate me. I am as close to you as I presume. Closer. What you haven't mentioned...is where you buried the dog, and how it would have looked if your parents had made you dig him up."
The entire room holds its breath.
"Because...Fujimiya-san...you buried Yuki next to your ancestors' shrines. They may have been stand-ins for the real ones since you lived in the city, but they were still sacred. You wanted Yuki to be looked after even in death. Oh, and by the way..." he adds with a touch of smug resolve. "According to Aya, you're the one who couldn't stop crying."
Breathe. Ken, Youji, and Omi all release their held breaths together, and wait.
Ran stands stationary and curiously apathetic. His expression has not changed, his gaze has not moved or twitched in the slightest, and his hand continues to grip his katana just as tightly. Shioshiro and even the others may believe it is shock or initial disbelief that holds him still, but they are soon set straight.
The air is cut—again—as Ran steps forward and suddenly has his sword back at Shioshiro's throat. His eyes burn brighter, with the power to wilt a lily held deep within them.
Shioshiro's optimism has once again been turned upside down. He breathes shallow, body tense, and stares questioningly back at his attacker. "Why...? I...I answered right, I know I did..." he stammers. "I couldn't have gotten it wrong."
Ran begins to walk forward, backing Shioshiro against the wall near Omi's desk. Omi uses the wheels on his chair to move away, casting a few nervous glances at the others, who are stunned into inaction.
"You were correct." Ran speaks, low beneath his breath. "You finished the story perfectly. And that is how I know you are no friend of mine."
"Wh-what...? But...if I know, then...then..."
"Then...you are truly a pawn of someone sinister, not an emissary of ours."
"I...I don't understand."
"Fool." Ran growls, stepping closer, closer, with the edge of his sword pushed into Shioshiro's skin. "Had you not finished the story, I wouldn't have been able to. You see...Aya and I promised...we vowed to never speak the truth to anyone...ever. If you know how the story ends, then that means you received your information from another source, because neither my sister nor I would ever break such a trust. The only exception we made...was that perhaps we would one day tell our children...so that should they ever encounter a similar situation, they would know we could understand."
A moment of bitterly tense silence, and then...suddenly and quite unexpected...a laugh. The beginnings of a laugh that purrs...and lingers...and understands more than any single act should have the power to comprehend.
Ran's eyes narrow further, his grip on his katana tightening once more. "You dare mock me with a laugh?"
"Haha...yes...I do." Shioshiro states with reckless abandon, his fear faded to nothing after a single phrase. He laughs again, light and low, his smile renewed as gloriously as ever. He turns his gaze out to look once at Youji, Omi, lingeringly on Ken, and then back to dear, furiously angry Fujimiya Ran. "I dare. Indeed, I dare without a shred of fear, because you have given the game away."
"Then you admit you're from Estet?" Omi voices accusingly.
Ran's eyes are little more than slivers.
"Not at all." Shioshiro grins. He stares straight ahead, into a pair of violet eyes he sees in the mirror everyday. "But I do admit to being your son."
A/N:
Hear my evil laughter? Mwahahaha! Now, I know many of you are going, "I so knew he was Ran's. BUT, if you think it's that simple, you don't know me too well. As a hint, I will say...some of you are VERY perceptive. Hope you are still enoying this. Believe me, this story has barely begun. After Shioshiro's full identity is known, then the real fun begins: his mission. It ain't gonna be easy, let me tell you.
Okay, minna, ja matta! And...please review, coz it makes me smile. :-)
Crim