Inkblots
by shaku-chan
author's stuff: Wow, so I guess this means I actually made it to the second chapter, hmm? Still with me? Good. I had a dream last night that the owner of the Weiss character signed the rights over to me, and the paperwork and I made sweet sounds together, but alas, it was just a dream. Hear that? The boys don't, nor will they ever, belong to me. Now go sue someone else.
note: If you read the first chapter a while ago, be sure to check for updates.
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Yohji stared at Manx, yawning and staring down at his watch, which had just fussed its way past seven o'clock. The sun cast blinding rays of light through the crack under the door and Ken's stomach growled in annoyance. Manx rolled her eyes, clicking on the view screen.
Omi wished that for just one day, the ancient television would fail to flip on.
With a loud blip, artificial light flooded the room. A blond haired, blue-eyed man's visage filled the view screen.
"Jeremiah Rosa, or rather Dr. Rosa, recently kidnapped one Christopher Frost, a member of the American branch of Kritiker."
"Kritiker has stations in America?" Ken asked no one in particular.
"Your mission is to find Christopher and bring him to Kritiker headquarters after eliminating Dr. Rosa. Hunters of the night, deny this dark beast his tomorrow." The screen flickered and failed, and Manx flipped on the lights.
"Is that it? That's all the information we get?" Yohji grumbled.
"Hardly," Manx grumbled back, passing out a photo to each member of Weiss.
Omi grimaced, but was unable to pull his eyes from the ungodly sight before him. It appeared to be a girl's face, but acne blemishes and scars marred the creature's skin so badly, it was hard to tell.
"This is Gabrielle Rosa, daughter of American businessman Jeremiah Rosa. Currently, she's our only link to the elusive Dr. Rosa, who disappeared shortly after fleeing America with Christopher Frost. According to inside information, she has a thing for cute Asian boys, and remains chatty with or without provocation. Her school Prom is later today. You'll find the address on the back of the picture. If you question her correctly, you might be able to find out something about her father."
Omi looked down at the photograph again, frowning. "Uhh, Manx? This girl… isn't she Asian? And… isn't her father Anglo?"
Manx grinned, "Ahh, adoptive father. But their personalities are remarkably similar. She's a firecracker and a surefire businesswoman, when she puts her mind to it. She runs a fourth of her father's corporation in America. Her only faults would be the two most obvious: her rather startling appearance, and the fact that she talks nonstop, whether her partner is listening or not. Use this to your advantage, boys." With those words, she stepped lightly up the spiral staircase and disappeared through the door.
Yohji yawned again, tossing the photograph onto the coffee table and stumbling up the stairs to make a beeline for his bed. He didn't have to work in the shop today, and they wouldn't start planning for the mission until they closed up at noon. Ken took off similarly for breakfast, leaving only Omi and Aya to open the Koneko.
Omi sighed. Manx had thrown in "cute Asian boys" for a reason. He would be the one to reel in the girl, and the thought of it made his skin crawl.
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Omi straightened his tie, staring at himself coldly in the bathroom mirror.
"Almost ready for your date, kid?" Omi turned his cold gaze towards the source of the voice, who grinned back sadistically.
"Yes, I'm ready, Yohji. No, it's not a date. And for the last time, stop calling me kid," he yanked his tie soulfully, brushing past the taller man, who was leaning with practiced grace against the doorframe.
"Better curb your enthusiasm. Wouldn't want the chickadee to suspect anything, now would you?"
Omi pasted a smile across his face, which appeared surprisingly normal under the circumstances.
"Much better, kid."
"You call me kid one more time," Omi smiled gleefully, "and on our next mission, I may accidentally miss one or more of my moving targets." He laughed, Yohji laughed, and they walked together down the hallway, laughing all the way.
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Yohji scratched the back of his head, trying to dislodge the numerous spider webs clinging to his hair.
"Can you see anything?" came the slightly fuzzy voice of Ken. Yohji squinted through the iron grate of the ventilation duct.
"No."
"No, you're staring at a wall, or No, they haven't appeared yet?"
"Pick one," Yohji ground out irritably, jerking slightly as a cockroach plopped down inches from his face.
"Yohji!" Ken fussed, his mind focused on the mission.
"Fine! I see a whole lot of fine ladies who are only slightly too young to f-"
"YOHJI!" Omi squealed into his ear. Yohji grinned at the boy's reaction. The kid could rip a man in two, but he couldn't stand even the mention of sex in any shape or form. Before he could let out an all-knowing chuckle, a small gaggle of teens caught his eye.
"Wait a minute, I think I see something…" Yohji held his breath as the swarm of girls shuffled into view. They were revolving around two people, most likely a couple, and the girl was most definitely their target. "Yup, that's her, all right. You ready, Omi?"
"Yeah."
The boy accompanying Gabriella whispered something in her ear and drifted away towards the restrooms, his back to Yohji.
"I've got the motorcycle right out in front," mumbled Ken softly, the voices of surrounding teens chittering slightly in the background.
"She's all yours, kid. Just be careful. She has some guy with her."
"Some guy?"
"Yeah. I didn't get a good look at his face, though."
"Well, then? What are we supposed to do?"
"She isn't guarded now, is she?" Aya's low monotone, the voice of reason, came softly into their earpieces. He would be sitting in the car with Omi right now, waiting for Ken to jump in so that they could swing around the back and pick up Yohji, and then speed to Kritiker, hopefully making it back in time to meet Omi and the girl.
"No," mumbled Yohji.
"Then grab her," Aya hissed, and Yohji saw his red locks shimmer briefly as the double doors opened and Omi strode in.
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"Excuse me, miss, but I seem to have misplaced my date."
Omi cringed inwardly as the thing twirled to face him. The picture hadn't done her justice.
"Oh, really?" she giggled, batting her eyelashes. Omi grinned unsteadily, suddenly unsure of how to pursue the frightening creature. "Maybe I can help you find her, yes?" He nodded stupidly, and she grabbed his arm, steering him back through the double doors.
Before he could inhale to woo her any further, he found himself pressed up against his own pink motorcycle.
"Let's get this straight, honey," she murmured, and he was overcome with an incredible urge to hurl as her less-than-sweet breath wafted across his face. "I'm not quite sure who you are, but I know exactly why you've tracked me down."
Omi's brain froze. Well, they did say she was a rigid businesswoman… Was it really that unrealistic that she would have information on Kritiker?
"And let me tell you now, it won't be that easy getting into my pants, or my pocketbook"
Omi snorted loudly, attracting the attention of whoever wasn't already blatantly staring. Pants…? Pocketbook…? He could've hugged her, if his stomach wasn't already convulsing with the sheer proximity of their bodies.
"I'm serious," she whispered, pulling her face into a seriously frightening expression, "You're going to have to try harder than this. Do you have connections?"
Omi pictured the Kritiker building, which was solemn and foreboding after dark, and nodded.
"Fine," she stepped back. He stood staring at her for a moment before she finally said, "Well…? I'm waiting!"
He nodded dumbly, pulling his keys from his pocket and stretching himself backwards into the seat. Her eyebrows shot up, "Wait, this… thing… is yours?"
"It's temporary until I get my newest import from Sweden," he said, the lies rolling easily from his lips. She scowled for a moment, then grinned, pulling herself with difficulty onto the back of the motorcycle. Once perched steadily on the seat, her vocal chords burst with speech. Omi smiled, making a sincere effort to act interested in whatever nonsense she was spouting, and revved the engine, his bike shooting forward to weave gracefully from the crowded parking lot.