Gomen! I had this finished except for two paragraphs for the last two weeks, and kept saying 'oh, I'll finish it tomorrow'. Well the tomorrow of two weeks ago happens to be today. Gomen!

Hope you're still there.

Enjoy

Yohji eased himself down into the chair across from Yuri. The man looked like he was a couple years older than his prime, possibly 40-ish, but still in top condition. He was leaning back in the chair, comfortable but for the fine tremble of tension that radiated off him. He had the same build as Aya, elegant, lithe, trim, and Yohji could see the same sword wielding calluses on his hands that covered Aya's.

It took a great deal of effort for Yohji not to hate the man on sight.

"So what happed to Aya?" asked Omi, sitting in the chair off to Yohji's right.

"I don't know. What did happen to Aya, Yuri?" demanded Yohji, not bothering to tone down the anger in his voice.

Yuri shifted uncomfortably in his chair and said, "I'm not sure where to start."

"Why don't you start where you came up to get me specifically, only to bring me back downstairs to find a terrified and trembling member of my team in the one place that's supposed to be safe!"

"He asked for you."

"What?" exclaimed Yohji, not understanding the significance of the statement through the haze of anger he had surrounded himself in.

"I asked if he wanted one of his teammates and he said 'Yohji'," replied the man, more calmly than any of his other statements had been.

Aya had asked for him? Aya never asked for anyone, especially not if he needed help. Yohji had started to think it was impossible for Aya to even admit he needed help. And he'd walked in on Aya enough times stitching his own wounds together to believe it. But this time Aya had willingly sought his help.

The wonder over that realization kept Yohji from hearing what Omi asked next but the vehement anger and bitterness in Yuri voice when he relied 'Phelan' was enough to refocus Yohji on the conversation at hand.

"Phelan. He was talking with—being talked at by Phelan."

Yohji felt a little curl of fear twist in his stomach.

"Who's Phelan?" asked Omi, the tension is his own voice rising to meet Yuri's.

"He's a lot of things, but I think the one you're most interested in would be that he's the reason Red—Aya—left the Consortium."

"I worked for the Consortium for a few years, then had to…leave because of certain events," Aya had said.

"What happened?" asked Yohji, not really sure if he wanted to know, but knowing he had to. If it was a problem for Aya—and from the looks of it, it still was—then it was something the rest of them would have to deal with as well.

"No one really knows for sure. Shige might, but no one's seen him since a few months after Red got out. And Red—he may or may not remember all of it. We tracked him to Kritiker, then hid his presence and severed all connections he had to the Consortium."

"…leave because of certain events."

"What happened?" Yohji repeated, not even angry at the other man for avoiding the question since he wasn't even sure he wanted to hear it himself. The fear he had felt before was getting stronger and more nauseating.

"From the moment Red joined the Consortium Phelan was interested in him. It had been about a year since his lover, the old Consul, had been killed, so most of us were pleased when he started showing interest in finding someone again. I don't think Red even noticed until Phelan started getting insistent, but by then I had already discovered that Red wouldn't be adverse to that type of attention from another man, so I wasn't concerned." His voice betrayed a self-mocking bitterness as he spoke.

"Aya's gay?" asked Omi.

"Bisexual as far as I know," answered Yuri, turning to see Omi. "He doesn't seem to have anything against any type of sex as long as it's consensual."

Omi looked shocked for a second, then thoughtful. Yohji figured he was reviewing every conversation he'd ever had with Aya and looking for anything that would support what Yuri had just told them. Yohji would have been more interested if the memory of Aya cured up against the loveseat shaking wasn't still burned into his mind.

"What do you mean by 'insistent'?" he said.

"At the time I thought it was nothing," said Yuri, the bitterness seeping back into his voice. "But Shige…he didn't like it, he didn't like it at all. He started off saying it wasn't like Phelan and ended up raging about harassment. We should have listened to him."

"Why?" demanded Yohji.

"Because a few weeks later Red disappeared."

The fear tightened like a band across his chest. Yohji began to hear the things around him muffle, as if he was at the edge of a canyon listening to someone below him. He only caught a word or two of what Yuri was saying between frequent waves of fear.

"…month before…found him…Phelan's…"

Aya moaned on the bed, twisted around as if in a nightmare…

"…Shige went…escape…"

The band tightened again, but this time it was around Yohji's head instead of his chest.

"…Red left…Kritiker…"

The panic from Aya's mind caused Schuldich to stumble and fall against the bed, hissing in pain as he jarred his ribs.

"…only Shige knows…"

YOHJI!

Yohji bolted up out of his chair and was halfway through the door to the bedroom before the last syllable of his name finished echoing in his head. The tableau before his was exactly as he had seen in his mind. Schuldich was crumpled on the floor by the bed, clutching his chest in pain. Aya lay on the bed looking horribly vulnerable and exposed with the covers he'd flung off in agitation scrunched at the bottom of the bed.

There was something wrong with Aya's breathing. It wasn't so much breaths as short gasping sounds interspersed with pained cries too short to be called moans and to deep to be called whimpers.

Yohji had only suffered one panic attack in his life, the night it had truly sunk in that Asuka had died, but he remembered the experience vividly enough that he could recognize the symptoms.

He walked quickly over to the bed, climbed up onto the edge, and pulled Aya up into a sitting position, hoping to help calm the panicked breathing. There wasn't much else he could do but try to get Aya to calm down. A panic attack wasn't really harmful, just terrifying for all involved.

"Yohji?" Omi's worried voice inquired from the doorway.

"Just a panic attack," assured Yohji. He pulled Aya closer as his breathing eased a little. He was still shaking, and Yohji could feel his heart beating against his chest like a trapped bird, but he wasn't making the chocking, gasping noises anymore. "He'll be okay in a bit."

Omi didn't look reassured, but nodded anyway. "Ken and I'll deal with everything else; get us some food and clothes and such. You just take care of Aya, okay?"

"'Kay," agreed Yohji.

"We have a doctor," said Yuri, who was also standing in the doorway, right behind Omi. "I can send him to look at all of your wounds and help with the healing," offered Yuri.

Yohji was ready to disagree, thinking of their previous encounter with an unknown doctor—who turned out to be an assassin. He wasn't inclined to trust this new set of unknown people just yet, especially not to treat his injured teammates.

He's sincere in his offer.

Yohji didn't even glance down at Schuldich, he just took his word on the subject and said, "That would be appreciated."

Omi and Yuri both left then, Omi quietly shutting the door behind them.

That wasn't really a panic attack, said Schuldich resorting, Yohji knew, to telepathy since he didn't want to try talking through broken ribs. He's been sleeping the entire time. His body is just responding to what his mind is feeling.

"What do you mean?"

He's still in REM sleep. I think he's trapped there, reminiscing 'bout the good ol' times in the Consortium.

"Can you wake him up?"

I can try, but he's always had really good shielding. He'll probably feel me trying to get into his head and jump even further off the deep end. "End up worse than he is now," said Schu out loud. His voice wasn't more than a horse whisper.

He probably would get worse, thought Yohji. Aya didn't trust Schu, no matter how much he proclaimed wanting the two teams to work together, and having someone you didn't trust jump into your head definitely wasn't a calming experience. Yohji hadn't missed Aya's earlier reaction to Schuldich's probe either, when they had gone down to get him with Yuri. But if they couldn't wake him up without going into his mind…

"Could you send me in?" asked Yohji, hoping his sudden brilliant idea was possible.

"What?"

"Could you send me in? He probably trusts me enough not to freak out to much." Especially if he had really asked for Yohji earlier.

"I…" well, I…maybe I could. Yeah. Yeah, I could. But I'd have to come in with you.

"Come in with me?" asked Yohji suspiciously.

I'd have to be able to pull you back out somehow, he grumbled.

"Oh," Yohji said sheepishly, but he refused to apologize. He gave a nervous little laugh, "Well then, what are we waiting for?"

The room melted—or maybe evaporated was the better word—into a field of mist. The kind of swirling, creamy fog that comes from dry ice covered the ground at Yohji's feet. He stood statue still and peered blankly into his surroundings.

"Hello?" he called, jumping when the echo ghosted back to him, 'LO, Lo, lo…'. Otherwise it was silent.

There was movement to his left. A sudden shimmer in the light that was somehow very familiar to Yohji. It reminded him of the one mission where they had infiltrated that one fighting tournament and Aya had chased Taketori up onto the roof and thrown his sword at the retreating helicopter. The reflection of the moon had followed the blade of the katana as it flew through the sky.

Katana…the shimmer was the reflection of a katana blade.

A sharp point suddenly pressed into the skin of Yohji's neck, distressingly close to his Adam's apple. He felt a thin trail of warm blood slide down his neck from that point and into the hollow of his collarbone.

From his frozen position he couldn't see the katana that was pressed into this throat but he could see the man who was holding the weapon. He was skeletally thin, his ribs easily seen through the skin on his bare chest. Bruises covered his body, in varying shades of blue and violet. Around his neck were the deep purple bruises of four fingers and a thumb. Another, faded bruise dusted the bone on his right cheek, just below the dark circles of his eyes.

Empty, familiar, amethyst eyes that stared at Yohji's face without a hint of recognition.

"I don't have time for this, Umi. I have a meeting to prepare for."

"I'm sorry, sir. But it seems that Crawford, Shouhei, and Murata have escaped our custody."

"What?"

"It seems they overpowered one of the security and escaped the building without our notice."

"One of the security?"

"A guard, sir. Hired from the area. One Kyou Tanaka."

"And is he conscious yet?"

"They, ah…they took him with them, sir."

"They what? You incompetent fool! How much information does he have?"

"I…I don't know, sir. Not enough to cause problems."

"Not enough to cause problems but you don't know!"

"He will resist interrogation for as long as possible, sir, it will give us time. We're searching for them right now…"

"And what makes you believe that he will hold up to interrogation?"

"His profile says he's a former cop, sir, with dealings in the Yakuza."

"Which Yakuza?"

"The southern Tokyo affiliation, sir."

"Southern Tokyo? And a cop? But that sounds like…what did you say this man's name was?"

"Kyou Tanaka."

"And how well did you research him before you took him on?"

"Sir, a recommend file came in from the Consortium when I asked about muscle in the area. He was tagged as someone who had worked previously with Spiel. When he came in asking for a job I just assumed-"

"Spiel! That's Shouhei's team. Did this man have a scar down his right cheek? A few inches under his eye?"

"Yes, sir, it showed he had been in battle befo-"

"I put that scar there after the man attempted to kill me! And you hired him? You actually hired Shige? Did you even do a background check?"

"Yes, sir, the Yakuza confirmed the reference-"

"That was a rhetorical question, you fool. If you want to survive your employment you had better find them. Shige will tell them everything they want to know, and no amount of safeguards you put on the information will have stopped him from finding out everything. I want them found, Umi, and stopped, whatever it takes. Do not let them reach the Consortium, even if they have to end up as corpses."

"Yes, si-" But Phelan had already hung up.

By the time they avoided getting recaptured—a rather harrying task of jumping around a corner whenever someone heard footsteps—and got everyone onto the plane, Crawford was half unconscious, Shouhei was in search of aspirin, and Murata was looking for the weapon best suited to kill Shige.

"Dude, you need to get over it!" said Shige, letting a hint of his irritation color his tone for a second. "So I knocked you unconscious and stuck you in a jail cell, so what? I had your best interests at heart."

"My best interests at heart, huh? Whose 'best interests' did you have in mind when you signed up to work for Phelan?"

Shige summoned a pretty little, obviously fake frown onto his face as he sat down in one of the plane's spacious seats. "Hold on, I gotta think about that for a bit. Let's see, I obviously didn't do it for Phelan, since I hate the guy. If I work for him, when I could easily find a job somewhere else, it must be for a reason, right? Maybe I'm like that American character, James Bond, infiltrating the enemies operation so I can gather enough information to bring the creep down."

Murata didn't sound mollified at all as he said, "You didn't seem very 'undercover hero' to me when you came after me with your little band of evil doers."

"No, I was too busy getting shot by one of my best friends," mocked Shige, lifting up his arm to show the, admittedly non-serious, graze wound on his arm.

Murata looked down at the carpet. "It looked like you had betrayed us."

Shige felt a flash of guilt for using Murata's responsible nature against him, knowing the man would feel guilty for hurting him even though Shige didn't really hold him at fault. As far as the other man knew at the time, he had betrayed them.

Shige grinned, half apologetic, half willing to forgive, as he held up an imaginary martini, "Arai, Shige Arai."

"Jerk," mumbled Murata. "Suicidal Jerk."

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" said Shige cheerfully. He was glad Murata had forgiven him, even gladder that the man had done it without demanding the full story. That showed an awful amount of trust.

Shouhei walked back in from the front of the plane. "The runway's cleared for take-off and I've jammed the radio tower so they won't be able to track us. Murata get up there and pilot," Shouhei ordered.

Murata frowned. "You're a better pilot than I am."

"But I need to talk to Shige," replied Shouhei. "You can leave the communication system on and listen over the intercom."

Murata shuffled toward the front of the plane to do a preflight check, while Shouhei went over to check on Crawford.

"We'll have to get Rori to look at him when we get to the Consortium," said Shouhei as he came back to sit down after strapping Crawford in and giving him a dose of painkillers. "There's not much we can do on the plane."

"How is Rori?" asked Shige. Out of all the members of their old team Rori was the only one whose whereabouts Shige knew nothing about. The team had disbanded after the old Consul had died, preferring to go their separate ways rather than have to learn to work as a team under a new Consul. They'd all stayed in the Consortium though, at least until Phelan had kidnapped Red. Then they all left the Consortium, unwilling to work close to someone who had hurt a friend. Shige'd kept track of both Shouhei and Murata after the split, at least peripherally, but Rori had slid under the radar. The guy was probably scheming something somewhere.

"He's actually the Consul's Second now," replied Shouhei.

"He's working for Phelan?" asked Shige, incredulous.

"Yes, and he's refused to talk to either Murata or me about the subject," said Shouhei, a little sadly. "He doesn't talk to us much at all anymore."

"Is he truly working for Phelan? Cohorts and all that?"

"It looks like he truly is working for Phelan," Shouhei sighed.

There was a moment of silence as Shige shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Shouhei finished buckling himself in, in the seat across from Shige. He felt the plane vibrate as Murata started up the engines, and then after a quick take-off announcement from Murata the plane began to roll forward.

"How did you get Phelan to hire you anyway?"

Not really expecting the question, Shige frowned for a second then said, "I used one of my aliases, Kyou Tanaka. I'm a little surprised I didn't get caught, since I never found the time to change my name in the police's hard copy records, it's still Shige Arai and that would have given me away in a second. Though I suppose they wouldn't go up to the police and ask. My Yakuza connection was real, and in that name, so that must have been what convinced them to hire me."

"Have you been after Phelan since you left the Consortium?"

"Yeah," answered Shige. The plane had left the ground. Shige felt the stomach dropping sensation of the plane climbing in the air.

"You could have asked us to help you."

Shige shook his head. "It was easier to infiltrate the place with just me. And no one in the Consortium expects me to be responsible, so it was easier for me to drop off the face of the earth than any of you. If all of us had disappeared it would have been suspicious."

"Suspicious? For us to go on say, a vacation, together?" Shouhei scoffed his disbelief evident.

"Boy, do I have a lot to tell you," Shige said smile, filled with bitter irony.

Shouhei raised an eyebrow that said, and are you going to start?

"First you need to know the Phelan hasn't really been on the level with the Consortium," said Shige, unable to speak without fine sarcasm coloring his tone. Then he said seriously, "Then you need to know that Red's in a lot of danger. More then you realize."

"There was more to Phelan's interest than just sex, wasn't there?" said Shouhei solemnly. "I've suspected something since you came back from Phelan's and told us Red had escaped, but wouldn't say anything else."

Shige nodded and said, "I'm not going to tell you too much, not without the say-so from Red, but no, Phelan didn't just want him for a date.

"He wanted him as a weapon."

Well, that was sorta mean of me. I totally set it up like I was going to tell you everything and then, well...I didn't. Guess you'll have to stick around and read the rest, huh? That is if you haven't stomped off in a huff, 'cause I'm a foresworn updater and never actually do it when I say I will. Bad Zarame, no cookie.

I obvioulsy need to get more sleep, if I can't even give myself a mental cookie.

Return, please, even if you don't review.

08/03/07 12:05