Warnings: Au, x-over, yaoi, possible violence as the story progresses, random moments of humor and/or fluff and/or smut

Disclaimer: I wish.

Weiss Geräusche

'Ken,

I'm glad to hear you and Yuriko finally got together.

Have you heard from Aya lately? Aya-chan is still missing. I'm a little limited without Kritiker resources, but I'm trying to help him. Yohji is still working my case, so maybe something will come up soon.

It's been two weeks since Michiru was attacked. She's going to be released from the hospital next week. I'm still trying to find out who attacked her, but it's been really quiet around here and we haven't gotten any new leads. I'll keep in touch.

Have fun at the motor rally this weekend.

Love,

Omi'

"Uhg, I'm glad that interview is over. You'd think I kicked her dog the way she was raking me over the coals."

"You're lucky I managed to edge in when our next show was. Tohma-kun would be pissed if you managed to forget to promote the band again," Suguru shook his head in exasperation.

"But that's why we have you Sugar!" Shuichi chirped, just to be irritating. But then he frowned. He really had been planning on talking about the band, but that reporter… The way she had attacked him was almost personal, not simply what he'd come to identify as typical reporter rudeness.

Sure the questions she'd tossed at Suguru and Hiro had been fairly easy. 'What's your hope for the band?' And 'How'd you end up joining Bad Luck?'.

It wasn't something he hadn't done before as Omi, but there had been no way to avoid some of those questions without appearing really oblivious. What he'd done today was make himself look stupid but likeable. Which wasn't much worse than he normally made himself look but it was eventually going to get exhausting. He'd have to be on constant guard in public now to make sure he didn't slip and sound like he wasn't a moron.

Nakia-san asked him about his background and amended it to his childhood when he'd expressed confusion over the question. She'd also asked about his romances, which would be something people would want to know. The way she'd asked it; Shuichi just wasn't sure it was for the fans. He'd been evasive on that one as well. Then she'd mentioned there was speculation that he had the pink hair because he was gay, and asked point blank if it was true. This time not only he but Suguru and Hiro all just stared at her blankly. Fortunately their time ran out a short while after that so he'd managed to not answer.

Now all Omi had to worry about was avoiding Kritiker, stopping Esset, recovering Aya-chan, and the next reporter who would try to slam him in place of Nakia-san. It wasn't going to be pretty. Any of it. Sigh.

"Shindou-san!" a voice called out from behind them. Shuichi cringed at the now dreaded voice. He plastered on a fake smile and turned around. Suguru and Hiro jerked around to see who was calling him. Coming toward them was the reporter who'd been interviewing them. Sandy brown hair that was twisted up in a clip and sharp brown eyes. She wore professional looking business suit that was accented with a flashy scarf. Her scarf and the dark hose with whimsical designs in white kept her from blending with the regular business women in the crowd.

"Ah Nakia-san what a surprise," he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head in way that he hoped made him look clueless, and possibly a little stupid too. Note the lack of pleasant before the surprise, he mentally pointed out, wondering if she'd noticed i-ah, that eyebrow going up meant she noticed it. Now let's see if she was going to say anything ab-

"But not pleasant?" Nakia-san made it more of an observation than a question. And of course she was going to say something about it.

"With all due respect, I gave you an hour of my time and that's a lot more than I give most people who use their occupations as an excuse to be rude to me," Shuichi smiled as he spoke, but he allowed an angry glimmer to flash through his eyes.

"So there have been others who've used their occupation to be unpleasant to you? Like who?" she stepped past his band mates to lean close. Hiro and Suguru shared a look over her shoulder.

"A-I don't keep a running account. B- If I did then it wouldn't be any of your business. Our interview is over Nakia-san."

"Oooh, feisty! Where was that 'go-to-hell' spirit when I was interviewing you?" she stared at him speculatively.

"It's camera shy. Now if you'll excuse us, we have a schedule to keep."

"Tell me about your father. You said, and I quote, 'I was very fortunate to have such a wonderful man to look up to.' What did you say his name is?"

"I'm sorry, you've apparently missed my point. Allow me to make this abundantly clear. That was a question, and I'm not taking any more from you today. Or any other day for that matter." He smiled brightly and gave a slight bow. He held the bow as he backed away and then turned on his heel to walk away.

"There is no record of any Shuichi Shindou being born anywhere in Tokyo. You're hiding something boy, and I'm going to find out what." The words were low behind his back. Shuichi missed a step. He turned back.

"Pffft! Are you kidding me?" He began to giggle in a rather maniacal way, nearly doubling over in glee. Finally he managed to contain his amusement to straighten up and speak again. "So that's your big spin on Bad Luck? You can't find any record of my existence. So now you're going to find out who I really am and what? Expose my crime of changing my name?"

All paper records of Omi and Mamoru were buried and he'd had Nagi double check to make sure they were sealed tight. She wouldn't be able to dig them up with dynamite and a excavation crew. He'd made sure of that. Even if she connected Shuichi Shindou with Omi Tsukiono it wouldn't mean anything. Omi was a poor orphan student who worked at a flower shop to support himself.

"You're not worried I'll find out the true reason you changed your name?" The reporter sounded stumped for the first time.

"You want the truth? My father's name was Shuichi. Shindou was the last name of my girlfriend when I was in high school. I took their names because I loved them both, and I wanted them both to stay with me always. I believe that addresses my sexual orientation and the mystery of my name. There are your answers, Nakia-san. Now if you'll excuse me."

This time he walked away and Suguru and Hiro followed.

"Shuichi was your father's name? You never told me that. Did he tell you that Hiro?" Suguru spoke in what would sound like a pleasantly conversational tone, but anyone who knew him would be able to hear the displeasure underneath.

Omi winced. And the fact that the keyboardist was pointedly not mentioning that he had just admitted to having had a girlfriend before reinforced the tone. "The subject just probably never came up," he responded weakly.

"Riiiight, so I'm going to go for a walk. You two just talk amongst yourselves okay?" Hiro gave a cheerfully fake smile and made a hasty retreat. Shuichi stared after him, feeling betrayed. Here he was about to get reamed over one little slip and Hiro wasn't even going to try and bail him out. He turned to look nervously at his almost-kinda-yes, but not really because they hadn't actually discussed it yet-sort of, but really yes boyfriend. He was so about to be screwed, in a not cool sort of way.

Actually they hadn't even had much time together at all the past couple of weeks. After that one time when Suguru had spent the night and they'd had to stop for Nagi's sake they'd been overwhelmed with work and bookings and practice. Things had been getting so hectic, it was almost like someone was purposely keeping them from being alone anymore.

And when Shuichi wasn't doing that he had to work on the mission. It was hard to justify sneaking out to snuggle with Suguru when people might be dying because he wasn't looking hard enough, even if he'd seriously prefer to be snuggling with Suguru. Although he'd never admit to thinking the word snuggling even under Esset's most heinous method of torture.

"Are you going to yell at me?" Shuichi asked plaintively trying the puppy eyed look on Suguru. Golden eyes stared back with a flat unfriendly look that let him know exactly how well that was going to work.

"Would it do me any good if I did?" Suguru demanded.

"Not really, so let's skip that part and just say we did, okay?" Shuichi rocked back on his heels with a hopeful look. They stared at each other silently.

"We have a photo shoot in twenty minutes. Let's go." Suguru turned and walked away without another word.

Shuichi stared after him, not expecting that response. He followed after silently, wondering what Suguru was thinking but somewhat afraid to ask. There was no way they'd have time to get into a deep and philosophical discussion about his past romance, please note the singular here, thank you. Actually he wasn't sure if it qualified as a romance given how it had turned out. But he also didn't want to leave the other boy stewing for too long. Suguru would only get more creative about ways to silently snub him while he brooded. This treatment would last until he finally exploded all over the place. Shuichi was fully aware of the pattern to Suguru's moods.

He was also beginning to wish that they weren't always in NG so much of the time, it was difficult to have a personal conversation knowing that the people in the monitor room could see them, and that Nagi most definitely had a way to hear them set up. The Schwarz member was just so irritatingly thorough like that. They made their way to the transportation being provided.

They made it to the photo shoot only three minutes later than they were supposed to be there. And they managed to get through the process after only a couple of hours. The photographer was just having way too much fun with their wardrobes. And people were accusing him of being gay? Shuichi marveled.

He followed the directions, posing the way he was supposed to and smiling for the camera on command but his mind was already working out how to placate the younger boy. He was going to catch Suguru after the shoot and invite him to that café that Michiru had taken him to that one day. It was close and not populated by people that Shuichi didn't want involved in the conversation he planned to have with him. Yeah, that way he could explain about Ouka, and hopefully Suguru would understand why he never really brought it up.

The shoot was finally over. Suguru gathered his stuff and stalked off with a muttered bye to both of his band mates.

"I'll meet you guys back at NG okay?" Hiro gave him a thumbs up and started to head off. Hiro stared back at him over his shoulder and then gave a pointed look at Suguru, as if he thought Omi needed some encouragement or something. But the gesture made him feel better, and gave him a little boost of courage to realize that Hiro still had his back even if he had fled like a chicken when Suguru first reacted earlier. Shuichi hurried after his love interest and was about to reach out when his cell phone went off.

Shuichi grabbed Suguru's hand, yanking him around.

"Just a second you. We need to talk. Now hold still!" He fished around in his cargo pants for his phone until he found it and flicked it open. "Omi, and this better be important," he growled into the receiver. The voice on the other end spilled into his ear and he jerked in surprise.

"Don't say a word, just listen carefully. I have what you need but I can't give it to you right now. Wait for me at the our old stomping grounds and I'll bring it by."

"What? Right now?" Omi asked in surprise.

"Get over there right now."

"How long will it take?" he furrowed his brows.

"If I don't show up within five hours then I'm dead."

"I'll be there."

He hung up and stared at the phone in consternation. It was four thirteen. "I'm sorry Suguru. I wanted to explain everything to you tonight, but it looks like that plan is being put on hold."

"What's going on?" Suguru demanded.

"That was Yohji," Suguru jerked his hand away and the emotion on his face just shut down. Omi allowed a pleading note to enter his voice. "I can't blow him off Sugar, I need to go, okay? I promise I'll explain everything to you later, I just… I have to go."

With that Omi pulled the stiff boy into a quick hug and dashed off before Suguru got the chance to regain his wits enough to slug him. He didn't know why but the boy didn't seem to like his friend very much. Of course Yohji hadn't put much effort into making a good impression so he guessed it wasn't that unreasonable.

He raced down the hallways, dodging around people and taking corners at breakneck speeds until he reached the sidewalk outside. He kept running until he hit the main street a couple of blocks down where he finally managed to grab a cab. He'd have tried the subway or bus but they were going to be too noisy and crowded and he had a phone call to make.

He ordered the driver to the Koneko, and pulled his phone back out of his pocket where he'd shoved it after hanging up with Balinese. He pressed a button and waited for someone to pick up. It took four rings before he picked up, which was two longer than it normally took for Prodigy to answer his phone.

"Naoe here."

"Hey, is it okay for you to talk at the moment?"

"Now is not really a good time for me."

"Fine. I just wanted to let you know that my friend has finished his arrangement and I'm going to pick it up from the flower shop now. Oh, and if you see Sugar, make sure he's okay tonight."

"What did you do this time?" the irritation from the other boy came through clearly.

"Nothing. He just found out something I never got around to telling him about. He was a little upset when I had to leave."

"Of course I'll make sure everything is okay."

"Thanks."

"Idiot. Don't thank me. If I'm not satisfied with your explanation, you'll deal with me when you return."

"Duly noted, oh Guarder of Bodies and Hearts," Omi's voice was dripping in sarcasm. He cut the connection before Nagi could respond.

A few minutes later found him at the Koneko. He paid the driver and the yellow cab pulled away. Thankfully the studio that they'd done the shoot at was closer to the flower shop than the NGR building was. He let himself in with his key, knowing that the locks wouldn't be changed. He took the spiral staircase into the basement to wait for Yohji to show up.

Something told him he was in for a long wait.

Six thirty eight.

He had two new songs that he'd have to kick around with the band whenever he got a chance. The lyrics were really rough but they could give the guys enough to work with to write some music. They'd enjoy a jam session where they just kicked around ideas. The creative parts always seemed more exciting after recording sessions of death with their evil, evil manager.

Eight forty one.

He flipped over the back of the couch then popping back up to hurl the brightly colored darts at the board on the wall. He dove from behind the couch to crouch behind the chair, flinging a couple more darts as he cleared the space between the two pieces of furniture. He picked himself off the floor and walked over to the dart board to study his handy work.

Five of the darts had hit center, two were in the ring just outside. There were bright bits of red plastic on the floor where the four darts surrounding the dart that had hit dead center had pierced through the fins on the center dart. Actually placing the darts so closely and uniformly was a bigger challenge than merely getting them in the center ring. Although it was too bad he had killed the fins on that one dart. It wasn't going to fly as well now.

"Very nice Omitichi. Glad to see that fame hasn't robbed you of your skill," the words were low and husky.

"What's going on Yohji?" Omi turned around to regard the blond who sat on the bottom step, leaning against the curving rail. He had a bruise forming along the right side of his face and was already swelling. The skin around Yohji's lips was tightened in very visible pain. His hand was clutched to his side where a dark almost black stain was sticking to his side. The blood was staining Yohji's fingers a bright angry red.

"Yohji! We have to get you to the hospital!"

He immediately rushed over to his old teammate's side.

"No. It's not as bad as it looks. Besides, they'll probably look for me there. Just get me to the couch and I'll," he gave a soft grunt when the shift in his position pulled at his wound, "tell you about it."

Omi helped him to the couch and immediately dug out the first aide kit that was still kept in the cabinet against the far wall. He rushed back to kneel beside the older man and began to pull the violet shirt from his pants to unbutton it. He delicately peeled the shirt away from the blonde's chest.

Omi nearly gasped when he saw what had happened to the other man.

There was a shallow slice that ran from his ribcage to the top of his hipbone. Blood was oozing sluggishly from the wound. Apparently moving around had broken the thin crusting where the blood had already been trying to congeal. What really captured his attention was the bruises that covered Yohji's torso in red that deepened to purples that were already darkening to black in some places. He wasn't worried about the cut now, he was worried that there were some broken ribs.

"Yohji, what happened?" Omi breathed, his brow furrowing. It hurt him to see his friend like this. As many times as he'd seen the man in worse conditions, you'd think he wouldn't be so upset but it always hurt him to see a friend suffering.

"Esset," Yohji responded dryly.

Omi just glanced up at him, silent encouragement to continue before turning his attention back to the task at hand. He pulled out some antiseptic and cotton balls, and set about cleaning the cut.

"I just happened to find out who the Esset contact was in NGR. And some Esset agents just happened to find out that I found out. They attacked me. We-ow! Gently Omi! I'm very delicate," Yohji frowned down at him. Omi snorted and kept cleaning the drying blood away. "So we fought. There were too many to take on by myself. They kicked my ass all over the place, but I escaped before they could kill me. I hung low as long as I could. Then I left my hiding spot to head back here as quickly as possible. That's when a paranoid boyfriend jumped me and I got this lovely little sting on my side."

"Paranoid boyfriend?" Omi asked. The cut was already rubbed with antibiotics. He was closing the wound with butterfly closures. The slice wasn't deep enough to need stitches.

"Apparently the Esset contact has been having an affair with an underling Esset agent. He found out I was a detective and assumed I was spying on their love life for her jealous husband or some shit like that. Either way, he's dead now." Yohji shrugged, but winced and seemed to change his mind about that halfway through the motion. He settled back in his seat "No one else followed me, of that I'm certain."

"So who's the contact?" Omi needed to know.

"You're not going to believe this," Yohji shook his head. Yohji's now only visible green eye stared at him with a serious expression, and his lips tugged into a dark frown.

"Please Yohji, I don't want to play twenty questions right now. Just tell me."

"Okay." Yohji took as deep a breath as his aching body would allow. "It's Mika Seguchi."