Chapter Two: The Pheonix
"Kisama..." The curse was cut off by a fist making contact with a pale cheek.
"Tsk, tsk...you ought to show a bit more respect to the one pulling your strings, hmm, boy?"
Ran maintained eye contact with the apparent "leader" of the group, arms stretched overhead and restrained with cuffs which held him to the ceiling. He had grown numb from the repeated beatings and lashings, compounded by the constant torment of being suspended by his wrists.
It had been a simple enough chore, walking to his car with the imported American cereal that he knew Ken loved--something sugary and containing copious amounts of pastel marshmallows--his mind full of the surprise he was planning for Ken and Aya-chan. A weekend holiday by the sea was exactly what they all needed, time to get away from everything and just be together, like a family.
Preoccupied, he didn't notice the men who had been watching him from the shadows, aiming a small dart at his neck. A precision hit and the assassin was down, dragged into his own car and driven away to the mercies of his unknown assailants.
He'd awoken what he could only assume were hours later with a bucket of ice water splashing in his face. He was stripped and hanging from the ceiling, sore everywhere; sluggish from whatever drug was in the dart, but conscious enough to take stock of the situation, it quickly became apparent that he was helpless. His training as an assassin wasn't for nothing; he knew enough to remain calm, to regulate his breathing, to observe everything he could about his captors and his surrounds.
What he saw was not comforting.
Various implements of torture were arranged throughout the windowless dim room which housed him and his captors. There were four of them, tall and well built; one casually swinging a chain and another holding the now empty bucket. Two of them were wearing sleeveless t-shirts and one was bare-chested, affording Ran a view of the identical tatoos which graced their upper right arms. A red bird surrounded by black flames. A phoenix.
All four smirked as they looked upon Ran with predatory lust.
"Ken..." Ran whispered, finally allowing his head to fall against his chest.
As the fist made contact, the contents of Ran's stomach worked their way upward, adding to the stench of the room. As the cuffs are released and his body is tossed to the floor, Ran knew he was too weak to resist.
confusion sets in
"Fuck, it's been two days! We're assassins, we work for an organization with huge resources, we handle this kind of thing all the time! Why can't we find him?" The panic was clear in Ken's voice as he frantically paced behind Omi who was hunched over the computer. "Aya-chan called again-how much longer can I keep lying to her? There's only so many times he could be in the bathroom in one day!"
"Ken-kun, we're doing our best..." The younger boy sighed, trailing off. Despite his regularly genki demeanor, Omi knew that he couldn't offer any comfort to Ken, and that false optimism would only inflame Ken's temper.
Right on cue, Ken exploded, his fist landing on the desk dangerously close to the keyboard on which Omi was frantically typing, knocking over a can of soda. Omi gasped and lifted his laptop away from the onrushing sea of cola.
"Well, our best isn't friggin' good enough! He could be lying in a gutter somewhere, or floating face down in the Kamo River for all the good our best is doing!" Ken's voice broke, his body shaking with sobs. Omi made a quick motion in his chair toward his teammate, but it was Yohji who caught Ken first, holding him close in a tight embrace.
"Kenken-we're trying. If you can't have faith in our best, have faith in Aya's. He's the strongest, he's the best of all of us. If anyone can get out of a sticky situation, it's him. Remember how he faced down those kids at the market for the last box of strawberry pockey?" Yohji smiled. "If Aya can handle a dozen rabid schoolgirls he can handle anything." Yohji's voice softened. "He survived a building sinking on top of him so he could be with you, Ken. He's not going to let anything come between you two now. Trust him."
the fates twist the knife
Omi yawned as he sat up, his cheek sore from falling asleep on the keyboard. He'd had next to zero luck finding anyone or organization who might be after Aya, other than Schwartz, and it wasn't clear if they were operational or not after their last meeting. Kritiker's latest communique also drew blanks, but Omi knew that their intelligence unit was on top of things, too. It was just hard waiting.
Wandering into the kitchen past Yohji, who had camped out on the couch, he let out of yelp at the sight which greeted him through the window. A Porsche was parked in the alley behind the flat, the sole occupant slumped against the steering wheel and draped in a blood-stained blanket.
"Yohji-kun!" Omi's voice was insistent but low. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Ken and see him fly into a panic at the sight of Aya.
"Nani?" Came the sleepy sounding reply. Yohji heard the bang of the back door and the pound of footsteps going down the steps at the rear of the building. Instinctively, he quickly followed.
The sight which greeted Yohji at the bottom of the steps was one which he would never forget.
"Kami-sama..."
Omi was sitting on the pavement of the back alley, a naked and unconscious Aya laying wrapped in a stained ratty blanket. Wounds of every variety were bleeding or crusted over with days-old blood on almost every visible part of the slender body which was gaunt from exhaustion and obvious dehydration. Omi was trying to rouse the redhead while assessing the extent of the damage, checking for possible internal injuries. At first glance, it was obvious there were several broken ribs, possibly a punctured lung, large bruises, and numerous cuts, some of which were very deep.
Omi looked up at Yohji, his voice calm and professional despite the tears which fell from his soft blue eyes. "Yohji-kun, get the medi-kit. Don't wake Ken-kun---he can't see Aya-kun like this."
Yohji nodded and swore, turning to retrieve the kit.
Omi sighed, gently cradling Aya's head in his lap, wondering, what they were going to do. He didn't think Aya would want to be taken to a hospital, but he also wasn't sure they could deal with injuries like this on their own. While removing Aya from the car, Omi had seen evidence that he had been more than just beaten by whoever had taken him. He knew that Aya wouldn't want that kind of injury poked over by strangers, to have his vulnerability exposed.
While he waited for Yohji, Omi stroked Aya's red hair and swore to find whoever had beaten and raped his friend. They would pay for their sick pleasure with their lives.
do they enjoy making you cry?
~~~`~,~@