"How can you tell a man there's nothing to do? I can't imagine a situation in which there could ever be nothing to do! Do it for mankind and don't worry about the rest. There's so much to do that a lifetime won't be enough, if you look around attentively."

Yut-Lung exhaled. They still had four hours, and Ibe and Max were clearly not going to leave Ash alone here while he slept.

"I should go check on Lao," Nadia said finally, wringing her hands. She narrowed her eyes at Yut-Lung. "Take care of Sing, please."

You're asking me? Yut-Lung folded his arms. "So Lao will survive?"

"According to Charlie."

"Who's that?"

Nadia tilted her head to the side, as if weighing whether or not she ought to respond. "A cop."

Yut-Lung decided not to press further. He had something else he needed to do. "Are you going to visit Lao?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm coming with you." Yut-Lung moved past her. "I'll be back long before seven; don't look so horrified, Max. It's not good for wrinkles." He had a few questions for Lao Yen-Thai. Namely, that he wanted to know who Lao had accidentally been tricked into spilling something to. Lao was stupid enough to probably trade Sing's greatest secrets for a pint of cheap beer.

"Are you all right with that?" Ibe asked Nadia quietly. Of course. They all knew him as a sadistic, dangerous mafia leader who got Eiji kidnapped and then shot.

"I'm fine," Nadia whispered. Not that she had a choice, and Yut-Lung knew it, and he hated it.

At least this way she would have a driver. Yut-Lung folded his arms as he got into the backseat, Nadia with him. She said nothing. Silence irritated him, scratching and biting him until he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your brother. He seemed like a good guy." Yut-Lung watched as buildings whizzed by, bright yellow lights shining from windows protecting them from the gray winter afternoon.

Nadia slid her gaze towards him.

"You don't resent Ash at all for it." It was a statement, not a question. "And you don't resent Lao for trying to kill Ash either, do you?"

"They're kids," Nadia said. "Of course I'm angry at Lao, but I've known him since he was seven years old."

I don't understand. Yut-Lung folded his arms across his chest and leaned his head back. "I never meant for Shorter to die. That was my brothers and Dino Golzine, not me. He didn't like me much, but before he knew, and after, he was—nice to me." He remembered the curl of Shorter's lips when he realized why Yut-Lung was sitting in a captive's room with him and Eiji, hair elaborately braided, draped in the best robes, red eyeshadow winging up from his eyes. The curl that came from horror and disgust.

You thought it was wrong.

"I'm sorry I didn't save him." Yut-Lung did not want to tell her that he'd used her as an bargaining chip. But judging from what he'd seen of Nadia Wong so far, she already knew it.

"I see," Nadia said softly. "Tell me, do you really want to save Sing?"

"I am going to save Sing." Yut-Lung met her eyes. And then, because something about her—not the shape of her face, not the short hair, not her eyes which were brown, not purple, but still, something—reminded him of the woman he thought he'd died with, he spoke. "He saved me."

You want to die that bad?

I can't hate you.

Nadia put her hand on his shoulder. Yut-Lung flinched, and she removed it. "You know," said Yut-Lung as they pulled up at the hospital. "Your brother once said to me that he found our aristocratic family disgusting. That he was more noble." He tossed her a smirk. "He was right."

Nadia's mouth fell open.

They made their way to Lao's room, shoes squeaking against the too-clean tiles. A man in a suit with unkempt red hair scrambled to his feet when he saw them approaching. "Nadia!"

She raced towards him, throwing her arms around him. The man eyed Yut-Lung. "This is Yut-Lung Lee."

Charlie's eyes darkened at that name. He reached for something in his pocket.

"Relax," said Yut-Lung. "I only want to see how Lao is. You can stay with me, if you want." He held up his hands. "Mr. Cop." Were they dating? Yut-Lung wondered how Shorter would have reacted.

Charlie swallowed. He led Nadia and Yut-Lung into a small hospital room, machines beeping. Lao lay back in bed, eyes opening when he saw them. Relief sagged his features at first when he saw Nadia, then fear stiffened when he saw Charlie, and then disgust twisted his lips when he saw Yut-Lung. "You!"

"Me," Yut-Lung confirmed, moving towards the window. "You'll be pleased to know your murder attempt on Ash didn't succeed. I did warn you it wouldn't."

"Hey Charlie," said Lao. "This is the bastard who arranged for Eiji to be shot."

Yut-Lung flinched. He didn't want to look at Nadia now. "Shut up. Ash and I are trying to save Eiji and your own brother."

"My—what?" Lao gaped. "Sing hasn't—come to visit, and I'm—because of Ash, because of you—he chose—"

"God, do you know your brother at all?" Yut-Lung demanded. "If you were dying, he'd be here. The reason he isn't here is because he's in danger!"

"What?" hissed Charlie.

"From Ash!" shouted Lao, cringing in pain. "It's Ash, it's got to be Ash, he sees us as louses—"

"You see yourself as a louse, so how's that different?" Yut-Lung asked.

"He killed Shorter—"

"He did not kill Shorter," Yut-Lung retorted. He could feel Nadia and Charlie's eyes boring into him.

"You yourself said he'd—kill Sing—Shorter would have been able to protect—"

"Oh my God," said Yut-Lung. "You're jealous of Ash, aren't you? This has nothing to do with Sing and everything to do with you. You're jealous that Ash was Shorter's best friend, that he went on a cross-country roadtrip with him without telling you. That you weren't in Shorter's close confidences at the end. That he chose Ash over you. That's your grudge. It has nothing to do with protecting Sing at all." He threw his head back and laughed to keep his throat from closing completely. "And here I thought we were different." We're all fucked.

"Yut-Lung, stop," begged Nadia. "He's not—Shorter loved both of them, he did, it's not about a competition—"

"Lao's too dumb to get that." Yut-Lung glared.

"Fuck you!" gasped out Lao. His lips were trembling. "Sing is—"

"Abducted," snapped Yut-Lung. "With Eiji Okumura. And Ash and I are going to save them. So you should probably thank your lucky stars you didn't actually succeed in killing Ash. And I need to know whether or not you said anything stupid to anyone recently—like, stupider than normal."

"You think I got my own brother—"

"I think we already established you just see Sing as an extension of yourself—"

"Then what about you?" Lao shouted. "What about you? What do you see him as? Something that can save you? He hates you!"

Yut-Lung's breath caught in his throat. "No. He doesn't." He hoped. What if he did hate him, now?

But you didn't. I'll save you. You won't hate me, not then, will you?

Please.

"If they're going after you, then you're the one who got him in trouble, and—"

This isn't going to go anywhere. His face felt hot. His fingers prickled. And he could feel the stares from Nadia and Charlie. He wrapped his arms around himself, turning and stomping off.

"Yut-Lung—" tried Nadia.

"If you show up at my place to arrest Ash," said Yut-Lung, pausing. "I'll poison you." He turned to Charlie. Nadia looked furious.

"Are you trying to provoke me?" Charlie demanded. "Not a smart move."

You want to die so bad?

"You just talked about an abduction," Charlie said. "I have—"

"Just arrest him," Lao aid. "Sing told me. He and Golzine teamed up to make his brothers die, and their families too—"

"Shut up!" Sing told you? Yut-Lung gaped. He couldn't have meant it in any way other than that he trusted Lao. He couldn't have.

"Wonder how you'd fare in prison, you—"

"Quiet!" shouted Charlie.

Yut-Lung gulped. His face felt hot. A lump swelled in his throat, and he couldn't stand this stupid cop looking down at him, not with Nadia Wong at his side.

Don't hate me!

I've only ever been hated; why am I like this? Why do I want to run?

I can't. Not until Sing is safe. That was priority. "Do you want to follow rules or help people? They coincide much more rarely than people think. If you'd rather do the latter, you're welcome to come to my place. Otherwise, stay away."

He left alone.

"I hate this," Eiji said.

Sing propped himself up on his elbows. He'd been trying to get some rest. They had a plan, but no one had come in, so it was on hold. "We're gonna be okay."

"I know," said Eiji. "But just—getting shot, getting kidnapped, all of it—maybe—Ash wanted me to leave to protect me, and I—"

"He went nuts after you got shot," Sing commented, lying back down. The stupid contaminated water. It seemed to be affecting him more than Eiji, probably because he was smaller. He was using his sweatshirt as a pillow. "I asked him to fight me to the death."

"What?" demanded Eiji.

"We decided it was a stupid idea."

"Did you really want to—"

"No, but I have responsibilities to my guys, to take care of them." Sing closed his eyes. It changed his view not at all. This place was so dark he was starting to wonder if it'd permanently damage his eyesight. "You were supposed to be in Japan right now."

"I was going to come back," Eiji said quietly. "My family just—my father's sick. He wanted to see me, once they heard I was shot. I wrote Ash a letter telling him as much. That it wasn't goodbye. I was going to give it to you to give to him." Something crinkled.

Sing turned in the direction of Eiji's voice. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Eiji's voice sounded thick.

"So you'd willingly walk back into danger?"

"Isn't that what you'd do for your guys?"

"I mean, yeah, but I was also—" Sing stopped. He'd known he couldn't defeat Ash. Lao knew it too. That was why he was so angry. "I just wanted it to stop. All of it. Because there was no way to save everyone." And Shorter could have.

Shorter is dead.

"You matter too much," Eiji said sharply.

"Why, because—"

"No," said Eiji. "You do. Ash feels the same way as you, I think—that's why he doesn't want to see me anymore. I know it's because he feels like he is just endangering me. But he's saving me as much as he's endangering me. I—I'd rather die having known him than live forever, safely in Japan, without ever having met him. I don't think that was living at all, actually."

Sing had never heard very much about Japan. He frowned, resting the back of his wrist over his mouth.

You're not a devil or an unattainable angel, are you, Ash?

You're a human, just like me.

It was hard to say if that was a comfort or terrifying.

"It's my choice, anyways," Eiji said. "I suppose."

"Mm."

"So," said Eiji. "If this plan of yours is risking your life for mine, I'd really rather you didn't."

"Huh?" Sing scowled.

"It is, isn't it?"

"No."

Eiji sighed.

"Okay, fine," said Sing. "But—"

"I don't want to have to tell Yut-Lung that you died saving me. I somehow think that's not going to help him when it comes to how much he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," said Sing. "He hates himself."

Eiji said nothing.

"He really wants to die," said Sing. "That night you made him drive you—and he asked you to shoot him. He wanted to die. He meant it. And he wanted Ash to become like him, and kill him, because he wasn't quite able to do it himself." And he almost felt like he understood, after he realized he'd have to fight Ash.

He remembered when he showed up at Yut-Lung's house, the grudge of uncontrollable rage, the gun in his hand, pointed at him, and the look on Yut-Lung's face. Surprise, and yet expectation. Understanding, no anger, just acceptance, and years and years of exhaustion.

After Blanca told him what happened to Yut-Lung's mother, and he went there, he wasn't sure what he planned to do. Not until the gun was in his hand. And then when Yut-Lung spoke, quiet and resigned, he heard himself.

Fight me, Ash.

Yut-Lung didn't even want to fight. Though, if it was a show fight, was it any different?

You were fighting Ash in a show fight. You knew all along you couldn't win. You wanted him to kill you.

"Sounds like Ash in some ways," Eiji said quietly.

"He is. I can't hate him," Sing said. To hate Yut-Lung would be to hate himself. It was too easy.

"I understand." Eiji sighed.

And Yut-Lung seemed to come alive recently, since he made it clear they had to work together. He was smart and funny, and so eager to please it was almost laughable at times, but he felt too badly to mock him for it. Though, now Yut-Lung was going to have to really prove he regretted it, or not.

Please don't let me down now, Yut-Lung.

If he didn't act on this plan… then it was all up to Yut-Lung, and Ash.

Please, Yut-Lung.

I believe in you.

Ash heard the gunshot first. He was in Yut-Lung's place—or was it Dino's? These opulent houses were all mirrors of each other. He scrambled out of bed, his side burning and stinging—where was—

He stumbled over something soft. Pulling up, Ash looked down. Scarlet blood, streaming. A pale white face. Black hair.

"Eiji!"

Something wet slapped him in the face. Ash coughed. He sat up, spluttering. Yut-Lung stood to his side, holding a glass of water he'd clearly just chucked at Ash's face. "The fuck—"

"You were screaming." Yut-Lung looked disconcerted, still dressed in his yellow coat. "Ibe and Max are napping on my couch, and—"

"What time is it?" Ash interrupted. He couldn't shake that image from his mind. Eiji's face, pallid and glass-like, broken and—

"Six. We have an hour." Yut-Lung scowled. Outside, Ash spotted nothing but a darkened sky. "How's your side?"

"Fine." He ignored the pain. The medicine had taken the edge off, but that dream—it's not real, he's alive, he has to be—

I'm cursed, the day he met me is the day he died—

"Dreaming about Eiji dying?" asked Yut-Lung. "Or going through something else?" When Ash glared, Yut-Lung simply offered: "You screamed his name."

Ash said nothing. He didn't want to give Yut-Lung the satisfaction.

"I dream about my mother dying all the time," Yut-Lung said finally. He held the empty glass in his hand, raising it up, almost as if he was trying to see something through it, but only the blackened window was in front of him.

"Well, I never had a mother."

"My brothers raped and murdered her in front of me when I was six. Hua-Lung wouldn't let me go to her." Yut-Lung watched him.

Ash froze.

"I hate them," Yut-Lung said. "They're dead, now, and I still hate them, but there's nowhere to try to—look, that's why I turned to you, okay? Or so Sing says. I needed someone new to hate, so you and Eiji—but I don't want to kill Eiji anymore, okay? I promise. I want Sing back alive, no matter what it costs."

"That's why?" Ash demanded sharply. "Eiji never hurt anyone in his life, Yut-Lung. He's not your brothers. And if you think—"

"I—"

"Sing doesn't exist for your salvation," Ash snapped. The words burst out of him, scalding and bitter, the kind of bitter that made him want to gag afterwards. He shivered.

Yut-Lung's eyes bulged.

"Eiji's not mine, either," Ash croaked out. "Blanca—he said that to me, but I—Eiji was not my salvation. He's—my friend. I just want him to be okay, no matter what."

Yut-Lung let out a snort.

"What?"

"A friend?" Yut-Lung demanded, putting his hands on his hips. "That's all he is?"

Ash scowled up at him.

"Wow, you're dumb," said Yut-Lung.

"I have an IQ of—"

"200, but you're still dumb."

"And what about you?"

"Well, for the record, Blanca wasn't talking about you and Eiji, whatever he said." Yut-Lung sat at the foot of Ash's bed, tracing the edge with his fingertip. "He was talking about him and Natasha."

Ash didn't understand. "Who?"

"His wife. They got married, but her father was—she was killed in a terrorist attack, and though a Middle Eastern group took responsibility, well, the fact that the government disapproved of their match because he father had been arrested before—I'm sure you can figure out what's most likely."

Ash said nothing. His heart pounded in his chest. You never told me?

He remembered that girl, the one he had a crush on when he was fourteen. She was killed. And Blanca left the next month. Did you really want to retire, or—was it hitting too close to home?

"You look like her," Yut-Lung added. "I saw a picture. She has blonde hair, green eyes. He said she made him feel like he was a human."

So she was your salvation? Ash let out a snort. "Well, he left me, didn't he?" Bastard. He was probably finding someone to fuck right now on a beach somewhere in a humid paradise.

Yut-Lung studied his fingernails. "He left me. He went back for you."

"He never told me about his past."

"He didn't tell me either. I have ways of getting information." Yut-Lung leaned back on his hands.

Ash actually snickered at that. He could only imagine Blanca's face.

"Is that why you were going to let Eiji go?" asked Yut-Lung. "To prove you don't project onto him? To prove you love him?"

"I—"

"I'm not sure you need to prove anything, not to him." Yut-Lung stared into Ash's eyes. His were a shade of purple, and they were wet. "Or was it so you could die?"

It didn't matter. Ash held out his hands, remembering the blood dripping down them, remembering yesterday, when it was his own blood, and the strange relief seeping through him as his blood left his body, karma. "I'll always bring death with me," Ash said. "No matter who it is. Ever since I was a kid."

"I know," said Yut-Lung, about himself, no doubt. "I apologized to Nadia. For Shorter. She was unbelievably nice to me."

Ash arched his eyebrows. Yut-Lung seemed almost—okay, right now. Could we have been friends? "She's like that."

"Shorter should not have died," said Yut-Lung. "If he hadn't, do you think he would have killed me? For what I did?"

Ash frowned. "What do you think?"

"No," said Yut-Lung. "My name was protection enough. But if I'd gotten rid of everyone. Then maybe. I don't know. He seemed to realize my family was screwed up. He's the first person who said as much, anyways. I don't know if I wanted him to kill me or if I wanted him to save me."

Ash just stared at him. "I really don't understand you."

Yut-Lung scowled.

A crash echoed from down the stairs. Ash stiffened. Yut-Lung checked the time on his phone. "Ten to seven." He rose.

A plink. Yut-Lung turned.

"Get down!" Ash bellowed. He leaped up, grabbing Yut-Lung and pushing him to the floor. Yut-Lung yelped. More plinks. The glass, breaking. Bullets cut through the air around them, the wooden floor, and for a moment Ash flashed back to when he tackled Eiji, to when Yut-Lung and Dino had Blanca—

Ash scrambled forward, yanking the light to the floor with a crash. Darkness plunged over them. Downstairs, someone screamed. Max—Ibe— "Is my gun—"

"I don't know where it is!" Yut-Lung's breaths came too quick, panicked.

"Did you—"

"I don't know what's happening!" Yut-Lung's voice broke.

"Are you hit?"

"A graze," Yut-Lung admitted.

Ash didn't know what to think. The whole set up was too familiar. Was this some sort of bizarre apology ritual? He wouldn't put it past Yut-Lung. But— He reached out, grasping Yut-Lung and pulling him up. His side burned. They staggered out of the door together. Blood dribbled from Yut-Lung's shoulder.

"Ash!" bellowed a voice.

"Max!" shouted Ash. He scrambled through the windowless hallway to find Max and Ibe sheltering on the stairway. Ash swallowed a gasp of relief. Neither of them were wounded.

"You're hurt," said Ibe to Yut-Lung.

Yut-Lung said nothing. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of blood pooling at the foot of the stairs.

"Yut-Lung, don't!" Ash reached for him, but Yut-Lung had already charged down the stairs.

One of his servants, dead. A bullet to the forehead. Yut-Lung scrambled into the kitchen.

More servants, dead. Dinner was smoldering on the stove. Blood splashed the white appliances, stained white clothing. Yut-Lung turned to Ash, his jaw open. The windows were littered with bullets.

Ibe crouched by a young woman, pressing two fingers against her throat. He shook his head.

"H-hello?" called out Yut-Lung.

Silence.

Yut-Lung shouted something in Chinese.

Nothing.

"Anyone?"

Max turned the stove off. He rounded the corner into the dining room and returned, face white. He shook his head at Ash.

"Are they all gone?" whispered Yut-Lung. His hands shook, rising to cover his face. "They're all—all of them—why—"

"They want to terrify you," Ash said.

"Then why kidnap Eiji, too?" Yut-Lung cried out. He clutched the marble island in the kitchen. His face was green. "I—what—"

"Reminds me an awful lot of what Blanca did," Ash said, voice hard. He had to know. He had to.

"You think I would kill my own staff?" screamed Yut-Lung.

"I don't know, you sent them into the museum to die!"

"I—" Yut-Lung clutched his face, smearing blood over it. He screamed. "You killed them!"

"Ash," said Max. "He's clearly terrified and hysterical, he—"

"Shut up!" Yut-Lung bellowed at Max.

Ash yanked out his phone. No messages.

"There's a note on the window," said Ibe.

"What?" Ash turned.

Ibe held it up. The same stationary. Message delivered.

"That's it?" screeched Ash. "What about Eiji?" Panic shot through him, fiery ropes tying him. Yut-Lung was crying.

Ash dialed. It was the only thing he could think of to do.

Three rings. "Miss me already?" came the dry voice.

Yut-Lung yanked away from Max, who was trying to tend to his shoulder wound. "I don't need your help!"

"Yes, you do!" Max shoved Yut-Lung into a chair. He gaped, as if no one had ever said no to him before. Or yes, really.

"Decided to come out a retirement a second time?" Ash demanded.

"What?" Blanca sounded confused.

"Where the hell are you right now?" Ash stepped in a puddle of blood and slipped. He grasped the counter.

"The Caribbean," Blanca said slowly. "Look, Ash, you can handle—"

"I'm at Yut-Lung's and some snipers just took out all the staff and shot Yut-Lung in the shoulder just like he had you do to Eiji!"

A pause.

"I'm serious right now." Ash tried to keep his voice calm. It wasn't working. These people have Eiji! And I have no idea who they are and what they want!

I don't know what to do. Something rose in his throat. I don't know what to do!

Blanca's breaths came quick. "Have you considered the possibility that—"

"Yut-Lung's behind it?" Ash eked out. "Yeah, except I don't think so, because he saved my life, and also Sing's been kidnapped, and so has Eiji!"

"I leave for only a few days," mumbled Blanca. "And this happens." In the background, Ash heard a bird chirping. It definitely was not bird weather in New York. The bird sounded happy.

So you really must be telling the truth. That almost made it worse. At least he knew Blanca. Now he was fighting ghosts. "Well, this was a professional job," Ash said.

"You should be able to handle it."

Fuck you. "They took him and he's gone even though I was going to let him go! They took Sing! They aren't giving us any leads!" I don't know!

I can't... do this.

I can't. "How do I fight multiple yous?" Ash demanded.

Blanca said nothing.

"Care to help or do you just want to fuck off like normal?" Remembering the trump card Yut-Lung had handed him, he added: "What would Natasha want you to do?"

Yut-Lung almost smiled, but he was crying too hard to actually succeed.

"Excuse me?"

He wasn't getting anywhere with him right now. "Just think about it," Ash said icily. "You have my number. But Eiji doesn't have much time so fucking call me back soon if you have any useful advice, you piece of shit." He hung up.

Eiji, Eiji—I can't fail you again.

Ibe put his hand on Ash's shoulder, and he realized his side was leaking a bit of blood. Must've torn some stitches.

He couldn't cry. Not now.

But he was already crying, and Ibe wrapped his arms around him like he was Eiji, but he wasn't, he wasn't.

"It's okay, Ash," Ibe said. "We'll find him."