A/N: If all goes as I hope, the next update will be in a week. Oh, and for awhile there, I was experimenting, trying to see how long of a sentence I could write, and how many in a row. (I think the longest had 82 words.) So that's what's up with those mega paragraphs. This is self-beta'ed, as always, though I got lazy, so let me know if there any typos or other mistakes - which reminds me: I have no clue what Rinko's job is, or if they ever said, so I just made it up.
Many thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter, Kuroi Yuki 13, Nicole13-1991, QueenLucy15, Tsubame0104, and Lord of the Plushies. You guys rock.
Chapter 8
Monday:
Ryoga Echizen was being followed – he was sure of it now. Ever since noon, the little hairs on his nape prickled in warning, but now hours later he had just finally spotted a flash of whomever was following him. The man – probably a man, those shoulders were rather broad for a woman – ducked quickly into an alley the instant Ryoga turned around, but the movement was so hasty, he could be none other than a tail. Yet Ryoga's suspicion would not have been aroused had the man simply carried on walking normally. Several other people also walked along this residential street with them, after all. He would have blended right in if not for that hasty movement. Still, several hours had passed before Ryoga managed to spot him, so the man wasn't too terribly awful at his job; he was just mediocre.
Though the question still remained as to why someone would order a tail, Ryoga had a few suspicions as to whom would do so. Actually, he had one: Sakurafubuki Hikomaru and/or affiliates. Ryoga would like nothing better than to confront the man following him, demanding explanations and – if he disliked the answers – exacting retaliation. He heaved a swelling sigh, a stretching sigh that he felt through his chest and down into his arms and legs, a calming sigh. He needed to remain calm; a confrontation on this street, so close to the Echizens' house, would surely attract the wrong kind of attention. But did he dare continue on, bringing this man with his musk of criminality, to the front steps of his little brother's home? Yet, if this man knew enough to follow him, Ryoga Echizen, he most likely already knew of Ryoma.
Ryoga's choice was fairly straightforward, then. He'd deal with the man after he visited his one-time family. Ryoga smirked, making a mental note to stay late, thus forcing the man to wait in tedious boredom for his emergence – a petty thing to do, certainly, yet he'd do it with lip-smacking, purposeful satisfaction. He dismissed the matter from his mind as much as he could; when dealing with Sakurafubuki, such things as being followed had happened before and unfortunately probably would again. More important and more nerve-racking was this upcoming encounter with Ryoma and his former foster family. Tension tightened Ryoga's shoulders as he drew near the Echizen home, filled with a concern for Ryoma as well as a lingering resentment for the brevity of the happy times he had had with them in America, an all-too-short contact seemingly dismissed out of hand, or so his young mind was once convinced, a dismissal of him as a person once the Echizens decided to move back to Japan – irrational thoughts that he still harbored despite his conscious efforts and adult understanding. It was a resentment that he hated in himself, yet could not quite manage to overcome. He hated the jealousy, the green-eyed envy that stared back at him in the mirror every morning. But such bitterness paled in the bright glare of recent events, shrinking into insignificance – hence his current cautious, concerned venture into dubious territory.
Preoccupied with such gloomy introspection, his legs on autopilot, Ryoga nearly missed the flash of movement in the corner of his eye. It was an effort of will not to whirl, visibly tense up, or hesitate in his steps, but to carry on seemingly obliviously, all the while his senses soared to hyper alert. There, the flash came again; the navy-clad man following him had drawn even and was now keeping pace on the other side of the street. The man was fairly tall, perhaps equal to him in height or a bit taller. From what little Ryoga could see without looking directly at him, the man was also quite muscular; it would probably take two of him to make up this man, and Ryoga wasn't particularly small. Almost more alarming, however, was his aggressive stride, filled with purpose and coiled potential. Perhaps he was not so mediocre as Ryoga first thought, if the man hadn't actually planned on following him for days. Perhaps he wanted to be seen.
Tch. What a pain. Ryoga ran a hand through his green-highlighted black locks. So much for his first plan of dealing with the man after his visit with his brother – a thought which simultaneously annoyed and relieved him. He quickly took in the immediate surroundings: single-family homes lined each side of the paved street, most with fences that precluded an easy shortcut or a quick dash into the shadows of a house; one telephone pole-cum-streetlamp stood at the end of each block, though in mid-afternoon that mattered little; next-to-no traffic ran on this road, but the cross-street just up ahead rushed with cars.
An abrupt gasp and a female voice calling his name caught Ryoga's attention, seeing at last the woman approaching him with a wave, surprise and pleasure on her face. He paled. The woman was none other than one Rinko Echizen – whom he was not at all prepared to meet here on the sidewalk, several blocks yet from his destination, being followed by a man who now appeared intent on violence.
This was not good. Not good at all.
Ryoga forced a smile for her, pretending not to notice the man on the other side of the street who was in fact swallowing most of his attention. The teen stopped a few meters away from Rinko, greeting smoothly, "Hello. You look well."
She drew up before him with a pleasant smile, exclaiming, "Well, thank you! As do you, Ryoga." She set down the black briefcase in her left hand, propping it upright against her leg. The two of them bowed. Rinko rose back up with an analytical look in her eye, and she scanned him up and down with a hand on her shapely hip. "Imagine meeting you here. You're so grown up now!" She patted his shoulder maternally. "How are you doing these days?"
Ryoga inclined his head. "Good, thanks." The navy-clad man had stopped walking the instant he himself did. Oh, God. Don't come over here, please – not right now, not with her here. "Are you headed home?"
Rinko swept a stray strand of deep brown hair behind her ear as she answered, "Yes, yes." She held her hands out to the sides, glancing down the length of her somewhat crumpled, black dress suit. "I've just gotten back from a business trip, and eager to get home. Is that why you're here? For a visit?" Ryoga nodded. "Excellent!" she cried, snatching up her valise and taking his arm in hers. Ryoga suppressed his wince at the unwanted touch; he'd forgotten how touchy-feely this woman was. At least she took his left arm, leaving his dominant one free . . . just in case things went awry. Rinko went on, "Well, come on, then. We'll go together." She spun him around to face the way he'd come, then leaned in to whisper as they walked, "This way is faster, dear."
Sure enough, the man across the street turned as well to follow, leaving subterfuge in the dust. He probably already figured out that Ryoga saw him, anyway. Damn it! Could this situation get any worse?
Don't answer that.
Ryoga took a steadying breath, struggling to think through his growing anxiety that was doubtlessly radiating tension down his arm, though Rinko had yet to notice. What would a normal person do when they realized they were being followed? Ryoga pursed his lips. They probably called the police. That was eminently logical. Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? Well, probably because every other time he was being followed, that wasn't a feasible option, although even now, he didn't have a cell phone on him. He was too paranoid about it being bugged.
"Rinko," Ryoga broke in to the woman's chatter, "do you have a mobile?"
She blinked blankly up at him then dropped his arm, slowing down to a complete stop as she began to dig through her various pockets, muttering, "You're still free to call me Kaa-san, you know."
When she handed over her phone, Ryoga met her questioning gaze with a piercing one of his own, saying mildly, "Rinko, then." The out-of-place intensity in his expression hit her then, judging by her abruptly straightened back and narrowed mouth, while confusion flitted across her face and an eyebrow lifted in insistent query, much like he was sure her face looked in the courtroom, staring down a recalcitrant witness. Ryoga met her look head-on but said nothing, merely taking up her arm and carrying them further away from their uncomfortably exposed spot in the middle of the block.
He dialed one-handed and brought the phone up to his ear. "Yes," he spoke matter-of-factly to the emergency operator, "a man is following me."
Rinko gasped in stunned disbelief, immediately glancing around. He shook her by the arm, then when she lifted her gaze to his, he leveled a glared at her and shook his head fractionally. Act normally, he mouthed. "For about three hours," he quietly answered into the receiver, "as far as I can tell." He then informed the woman of the intersection he and Rinko were approaching, as well as the Echizens' address, and described his tail as well as possible, for never having looked directly at him – which, upon reflection, might very well have been conspicuous in and of itself. Ah, well . . . hindsight. When they finally reached the intersection at a casual stroll, Ryoga told the operator that he must hang up and did so despite her protests. He handed the phone back to a puzzled and agitated Rinko, leaning down to murmur while keeping his eyes on the passing cars, "We're going to walk calmly to your house, then lock all the doors and windows. Chibisuke is at school, right?" Holing up at the Echizen house was probably their best bet for now; this was civilian territory, and the cops could take care of that lone man. Ryoga's eyes widened infinitesimally, then tightened. What if he wasn't the only one? What if he had showed himself in order to draw attention, and thus be a sort of decoy, allowing any others to hide in plain sight? Oh, God, please let that not be the situation.
Rinko, if possible, looked even more startled and worried at his question. "Why wouldn't Ryoma be at school?"
Ryoga frowned. Was it somehow possible that she had no idea what had happened a week ago? Instead of answering her, he asked, "How long have you been on your business trip?"
She frowned back. "About two weeks. Why? What does that have to do with anything?" Her voice squeaked near the end, beginning to verge toward panic.
Well, if she honestly didn't know, it wasn't his place to inform her – nor was this the time. He shook his head, briefly tightening his grip on her arm in reassurance. "Never mind – just double-checking. We'll just do as I said: gather up everyone into the house and lock the doors."
Rinko nodded, a little too fast. "Yeah, okay. Okay."
