Part 2

Vice Prime Minister Reiji Takatori looked at the three young men in his office with something in the nature of awe. The oldest of the three was tall dark and broad, he looked as if he might burst out of his exquisitely tailored suit with every breath, and his secretary looked like she might faint, and if his shirt burst open like it looked like it would she would manage to shed most of her clothes and drape herself along his leg.

The second was slender rather than broad but with the same aura of strength as the larger man, with short dark hair and rather piercing eyes, he had a ready smile and reminded him in many ways of a rather happy Crawford, though he was hard pressed to say why. The man moved with a fluid grace and Takatori couldn't help but think that if, for some reason his shirt burst off then that Hirofumi would drape himself over the man's leg.

The third couldn't have been more than sixteen, with short dark hair and a rather solid stare. He looked uncomfortable in the suit, like his parents had dressed him for a funeral.

"Takatori-san, I am honoured that you could meet with us at short notice." The broad man said.

"No, the honour is mine, Wayne-san." Takatori said, "Are these your brothers?"

"no," Bruce Wayne, for it was he, said indicating the two young men, "these are my wards, this is Richard Grayson," he indicated the one that Hirofumi was now openly drooling over, "and this is Timothy Drake." The boy nodded.

"It an honour to," he stopped thinking, "be your great country, Takatori-san," he paused again, "I sorry, my Japanese is not," he stopped, "strong, I try." He screwed his face up, "I learn quick, soon fluid." He stopped again, "Am great full to my," he stopped obviously looking for the word, "sh," he stopped again, "sh."

"Shotakon," Hirofumi said from the door.

Tim's face lit up as he was supplied with what he thought was the right word. "Hai, shotakon for bringing here to meet Japan."

It looked for a second as if the one called Richard was going to contradict him, but decided against it. "Your Japanese is improving, Tim," he said with a perfectly straight face, "no one would guess you only started learning a week ago."

"Thank you please." Tim answered, "your word, Dick, does honour to my family."

"Only a week." Takatori said with real surprise, "you are very skilled to speak so fluently after only a week. Perhaps, in your time here it would be profitable for you to spend time with someone your own age with whom you could converse freely."

"Tim is very intelligent," Bruce said quietly, "he learns whatever he turns his hand to with great diligence and care." He looked at the boy with a determined stare, "in fact with hands on experience no one can question Tim's skill, not even Dick." Hirofumi managed to swallow the laugh in his throat rather well Takatori thought. Takatori did his damnedest not to smirk let alone laugh. "Although Dick is more active than Tim it is his cerebral power that is his greatest asset." Takatori was biting his lip now, "which is why I brought him to Tokyo with me."

"Really?" Takatori said, this was not the kind of conversation he expected to be having with the premier businessman in Gotham and one of the richest men in America, and a perfectly eligible bachelor although Ouka was a little too young to appeal to him, however, he looked at Tim, maybe he could offer him Nagi.

"I thought it would broaden his horizons," Bruce continued completely unaware of the subtext that Takatori and his son were sharing in view of the conversation, "and help him make friends, Tim can be quite a clingy boy, he finds it hard to make friends with people his own age."

"One of father's bodyguards has a brother about his age," Hirofumi said, "should I call Schwartz and see if Nagi-kun is available?" As his father's aide he could have this arranged quickly.

"Umm," Takatori began, "Nagi-kun is in the hospital, it seemed he was in an accident this morning, I will speak to Crawford on Master Tim's behalf to see if we can arrange a play date."

"Tim's sixteen." Dick drawled, "I hardly think it will be a "play" date."

Tim's poor Japanese denied him the pleasure of understanding that comment. Nevertheless Bruce understood it and shot Dick a warning look. "We would be grateful for such a gift, Takatori-san, you mentioned Crawford, would that be Brad Crawford?"

"Yes it is," Takatori said, "he's my bodyguard, do you know him?"

"He and I have crossed paths in the business world." Bruce said in a dark tone.

"He's the one person who can beat Bruce at the stock markets," Dick said in his typical drawl, "it's almost as if he can see the future."

Takatori coughed into his hand but said nothing.

"I would be interested if we could set up a meeting with Crawford-san, to discuss business strategies." Bruce said in a dark tone, one that rippled along Takatori's skin like ice, "if it would not inconvenience you to be without your bodyguard, Takatori-san."

"Certainly not, Wayne-san, for such an honoured guest, in fact Crawford's darling is a geisha, perhaps we can arrange a geisha party for you to meet him, for the past few months I must admit that I have hungered to meet her." Takatori said.

"The infamous Murasakiiro-sama?" Hirofumi said, "all I know about her is that she retired from the flower and willow world when Crawford became her danna." The boy's face took on a look of complete bewilderment, "patron," Hirofumi corrected himself, "we can approach her Okiya to see if she can be entreated to perform."

"Then arrange it," Takatori said, "and I will see if Nagi-kun is up to having visitors."

Omi woke up slowly in a soft bed in a white room listening to the soft puppy whiffle of someone else snoring softly. He tried to wriggle but pain shot through his arm and leg and he cried out. "Shh, sweetheart," a woman's voice said, he didn't recognise her but she wore a white nurse's uniform and had a tray in her hands, "You've been in an accident," she swept his hair back from his forehead, "you're in the Magic Bus hospital."

"What happened?" He looked around the room, in the next bed, curled around his stuffed grey donkey as much as he could with his arm in a sling Nagi was sleeping softly, he looked very tiny and delicate in the big white bed.

"Takatori-sama ran into your bike with his car," the nurse said, "and then brought the pair of you in, we had to knock you out to set your bones, but you can go home tomorrow."

"And Nagi?" He asked.

"He just hasn't woken up yet, he's just broken some ribs and his collar bone, apart from his concussion we'd let him go now, your friends have come to see you." Omi looked down and realised that he was in a pair of flannel pyjamas. "Do you want us to let them in?"

He nodded. "Can I have some water, please?"

The nurse poured him out a glass of water and when he reached for it he realised that his arm was in a soft cast. "Is it broken?" He asked, feeling a bit silly for not knowing.

"You snapped it like a twig." Aya said from the doorway, he had a huge bunch of flowers for them, "and your ankle, I'm just glad you were both wearing helmets or it might have been much worse, the next time you go out on your bike you're going out in full body armour." He looked across at Nagi, "in fact because he was behind you he got the worst of it," his face softened, "he's got to go for more x-rays because Crawford's saying he's broken his hip as well." He sat down in the chair between the beds, "now is there anything we can get you?"

"Aya," Omi began. "Is it true that the vice prime minister knocked us down?"

Aya flared into rage, "Takatori!" He shouted.

"I'll take that as true then." There were very few things in the world scarier than Aya in a full Takatori rage. "Did you bring my laptop?" He asked changing the subject.

"I did." Aya said opening the bag he had slung over his shoulder and pulled a slim line silver laptop with a huge screen.

"Thank you, Ayan," Omi gushed, "now if you can just put it on my lap," Aya did, Omi went to switch it on, "itai, itai, itai." With a long suffering roll of the eyes Aya switched the lap top on. "Do you know what I love best about you, Ayan, you listen."

"Hn," was all that Aya answered him with.

"no, Schuldig," Nagi said suddenly, "I don't wanna, I don't care if it tastes like bubble-gum." He sat up and looked around the room, for once obviously happy to be in a hospital room, then sat back with an "itai."

"Didn't they give you something for the pain?" Omi asked, genuinely concerned that his boyfriend seemed upset and in pain.

"They can't." Aya said, "Crawford explained it to the doctors, because he's a telekinetic if you drug him he can't control his gift and things go flying, they're giving him the one thing he can take."

"Which is?" Omi pressed.

"Calpol." Nagi said irritably.

Aya stifled the snigger at the mental image of a member of Schwartz pinned down whilst they spoon fed him a milky pink syrup designed for babies and tasted of bubble-gum.

"It's not that bad." Omi said.

"Yeah," Aya added, "it's sugar free."

"But it's for babies." Nagi was scowling, his black eye and strapped arm just made him look cute. "And I'm not a baby."

"You're my baby." Omi said sweetly. Nagi looked as if he might cry and Aya looked like he might retch.

"Well, come on, aka-chan," Aya said dryly pulling out a small silver package, "it's time for your medicine, and look, rather than calpol it's calprofen." Nagi's expression said plainly you can't make me, Aya's on the other hand said try me.

Author's Note:

I apologise for Robin's stinky Japanese and the cringe-worthy conversation that follows it, I figured someone had to speak it badly and the jokes I had planned for the others meant they would have to understand Japanese, he will get better, but he's doing very well for only having a week. I speak French like that, hence the joke.

I don't know if Japan has calpol, I'm not even sure America has, but calpol and it's brother calprofen were invented to make mother's happy, it's happy juice for babies, I don't know a mother that doesn't swear by it.