Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and its characters sadly do not belong to me.

Warnings: AU, eventual yaoi (it might take a while for me to get there), some violence

Pairings: Eventual Ran/Ken, others are still up in the air

Rapunzel: Oh great and powerful muse. I make you this humble offering. (Holds up a bag of dark chocolate balls). Now, come to me.

Muse: Yeah, right. You call that an offering?

Rapunzel: Fine. (Sighs and digs through the fridge for the bar of 71 percent dark chocolate she got for Christmas) Is this better?

Muse: What's this you say? You want another chapter of the Weiss fic, you say? No problem!

Humble beta: (Sneaks in and steals the bag of dark chocolate balls.)

And thus, another chapter was finished.

Blood Summons

By Rapunzel

Chapter 15

It was amazing how one little act had the power to change nothing and yet everything.

When Ran woke up the next morning next to a still-sleeping Ken, the world was not drastically different from the way it had been the previous day. He was still at his estate, still with an unknown assailant pursuing him, and Aya was still missing. And yet, despite the fact that none of that had changed, the world somehow seemed a slightly brighter and more hopeful place. He couldn't explain the feeling, but it was definitely there. Even the faint throbbing in his head left over from the previous day's attack wasn't enough to dispel it. It caused him to smile and lean down to brush hair away from Ken's face and plant a kiss on his forehead before rising and leaving the bed. It even prompted him to return Omi's cheerful "Good morning!" when he reached the breakfast table, albeit with slightly less enthusiasm.

Omi and Youji both stared at him as though he'd grown another head.

"What?" Ran asked, pausing in filling his plate as he noticed their scrutiny.

Omi recovered himself first. "Nothing!" he said brightly, evidently deciding that Ran's good mood was a blessing not to be questioned.

Youji, on the other hand, continued to stare at him. The look on his face had shifted from a surprised, who-are-you-and-what-have-you-done-with-Ran look to something more contemplative.

"Where's Ken?" he finally asked.

"Still asleep, I believe," Ran answered.

The thoughtful look vanished and a knowing and satisfied smirk spread slowly over Youji's face. "Is he, now? Tired him out, did you?"

Ran froze with his first bite of food halfway to his mouth and tried hard not to blush. His pale complexion worked against him and he failed miserably. "How..." he sputtered, and then deciding that that would be tantamount to a confirmation, switched to, "What makes you say that?"

"I had a little talk with our dear Ken yesterday," Youji said, still smirking in a manner that made Ran want to hurl the plate at his face. "It seems he decided to take my advice."

"Advice?" Omi repeated, looking back and forth between the two of them, clearly wondering what essential piece of information he'd missed in all of this.

"Remember when we went looking for Ran yesterday and couldn't find him?" Youji asked. "I believe it was because he was otherwise occupied at the time."

Omi finally seemed to realize what Youji was hinting at, if the blush creeping up his cheeks was any indication.

Ran, searching desperately for a way to change the subject, lit upon something Youji had just said. "You were looking for me yesterday?"

Omi straightened, and his color went back to normal. "Yes. We think we may have found something important, but I was going to wait until Ken got here to discuss it."

Almost as if on cue, Ken entered, fully dressed and looking exceedingly cheerful. "Good morning!" he greeted the others.

"First Ran, now Ken," Youji said. "If I didn't know the real cause, I'd swear it was infectious."

"Huh?" Ken tilted his head and gave Youji a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Youji said quickly.

As Ken stared at him suspiciously, Omi quickly cut in with, "And now that Ken's here, we can talk about what Youji and I discovered."

"You found something?" Ken asked hopefully. "Something about Aya?" Turning to Ran, he added, "See, maybe we are getting closer."

Ran frowned. "Then why did he go after me and not Youji or Omi?"

"What's this?" Youji demanded. "Who went after you?"

Ran laid out the details of the attack on him the previous day, and Omi and Youji listened, their faces grave and serious. When he'd finished, Omi said, "It's strange that it should happen now, but I'm not sure how it relates to the discovery that Youji and I made. As you said, if the point was to prevent us from finding information, why not go after Youji or myself? Still, the timing is odd."

"What is it you've found?" Ran asked.

"A motive," Youji said, "or at least a probable motive for why your sister was taken. It also gives us a new place to search for information about her whereabouts."

"Do you know anything about where your mother lived before she married your father?" Omi asked. "It might not be important, but it could help us."

Ran frowned. "She never mentioned any specific place. She never seemed to want to talk about it. All I know was that she came from somewhere south of here." Then, seeing the significant look the other two exchanged, he asked, "Why this sudden interest in my mother?"

"Do you know anything about families with magical predispositions?" Omi asked. When Ran shook his head, he continued, "Apparently, all that means is that a particular family was associated with a particular magical ability, even if members of that family were not magically gifted in any other way. I read that while trying to find information about Takatori, and it didn't occur to me how important it was until Youji mentioned your mother's maiden name."

"Hanashite?" Ran said. "But what does that have to do with anything? Don't tell me you think she's from one of those families."

"I'm not sure she's from the same family exactly, but I did find that name in the book. Apparently, members of the Hanashite family were known for their ability to summon and control demons."

Utter silence followed this revelation. Finally Ran said, "You're joking," in a very flat voice.

"We're not," Youji said. "You can read the book yourself if you like. And you have to admit, when you remember the rumors about Takatori being connected to dark magic somehow, it does start to make a little more sense."

"Wait a minute," Ken said. "I thought we already agreed that those rumors weren't really true and there was no magic left in the world. Wouldn't the families lose their talent then?"

"We don't know for sure," Omi said. "It's possible that the few people who do practice magic simply keep quiet about it. But if there still is magic, and if Ran's mother really is a descendant of the family mentioned in the book, and if Takatori really does practice dark magic, it explains what he would want with Aya."

"I don't know," Ken said, looking doubtful. "That's a whole lot of ifs."

"I have to admit, it's a tenuous connection," Omi said. "But on the other hand, the fact that Ran's mother refused to ever say where she was from is interesting. It suggests that she was trying to hide from something or someone. If we knew more about where she came from, we might be able to figure out where Aya's gone."

Abruptly, Ran rose, shoving his chair back forcefully and leaving the table. He marched out of the room with an angry, determined stride, leaving the others staring after him with apprehension. Ken was the first to follow after him, muttering something worried about having upset him, and after a moment and a meaning-laden glance at each other, Youji and Omi followed.

They found Ran in a small study room in the eastern corner of the house, where he stood before an old desk, searching through a ring of keys. Finally locating whichever one he had been looking for, he inserted it into the lock on the desk drawer and turned it. Opening the drawer, he glanced at the papers inside, then turned to face his audience.

"When my parents died, all of their personal papers, anything that didn't directly pertain to the estate or myself and Aya, were gathered up and put here. I have no idea what may be in here, as I have never looked. When I was young, I never felt the need, and when I was older, I never had the time. However, you are free to search as you please."

"That's very kind of you to allow us the privilege," Omi said. "But wouldn't you prefer to look through something so personal yourself?"

Ran's mouth thinned down to a grim line. "Not right now," was all he said before he turned on his heel and, with the same determined stride, left the room.

The other three looked after him, not quite sure what to do.

"I don't think he's taking all this very well," Omi said sadly.

"Well, imagine if you suddenly found out that your mother could summon demons," Youji said.

Ken frowned. "If you're right about this whole thing, doesn't that mean that Ran and Aya should be able to summon demons too?"

The three of them looked at each other in silence for a moment, digesting the implications of that, and then Omi and Youji both dove for the desk and its contents while Ken ran out of the room in pursuit of Ran.

/-/-/-/

"Ran!" Ken called, chasing the redhead out the front door and down the steps. Ran didn't stop, but he slowed his pace a bit, enabling Ken to catch up to him. Reaching him, Ken caught his arm and endeavored to steer him back towards the house.

"C'mon," he said. "I know you're upset, but you shouldn't go wandering out alone. Remember what happened yesterday?"

Belatedly, Ran realized that, not having planned to go out, he hadn't bothered to take his sword with him again. He sighed heavily. "You're right," he said, allowing himself to be steered. "It's just... I can't believe that she could be a part of such a thing and never mention it to us."

"Maybe she was just waiting for you guys to be old enough," Ken said. "Or maybe she wasn't really a part of anything. Youji and Omi might be wrong you know."

"I know," Ran said, giving a humorless laugh. "I'm not sure which I'm more afraid of, that they're right, or that they're wrong. If they're wrong, we're back to having nothing to go on. But if they're right..." he shuddered.

"Look at it this way," Ken said. "If they're right, then Aya's probably still alive. They wouldn't kill her if she was valuable."

"Yes, but now they've started pursuing me," Ran pointed out. "Why begin now, unless something terrible has happened to Aya and I'm the next best substitute?"

"I don't know," Ken said. "Why take Aya and not you in the first place?"

"I wish they had taken me," Ran said gloomily.

"Don't say that," Ken said seriously. He wrapped his arms around Ran's neck and looked into his eyes with a mixture of fear and determination. "You'd better not say that, because I'm not letting anyone take you anywhere."

Sighing heavily, Ran wrapped his arms around Ken and leaned down to rest his head in the crook of Ken's shoulder. Yet even as he stood there feeling Ken's hands in his hair, Ken's breath against his neck, feeling support and comfort radiating from his newfound lover, he couldn't help but wonder about his sister and whether he would soon share her fate.

/-/-/-/

It took most of the morning to divide up the contents of the desk, and by the time lunch came, Youji and Omi were barely ready to start reading through the papers they had determined belonged to Ran's mother. Their only consolation was that there were relatively few of them, especially compared to his father's mementos and letters, which had been numerous.

Omi frowned at the small pile before them which represented their morning's work. "She didn't have much in the way of personal papers, did she?"

"Don't complain," said Youji, who by this time was thoroughly sick of sorting through papers. "At least it makes our job easier."

"Unless there's nothing useful in here, in which case our job is very difficult indeed."

Youji didn't answer, opting instead to reach for the pile and start perusing its contents.

Most of the papers proved to be letters, and all of the letters were from the same person. Youji didn't recognize the name, and the nearest he could place the address was that it was somewhere far to the south of their current location. That made sense, since the limited information Ran had suggested that his mother came from that area. The letters were spaced, he noticed, one every couple of years. It seemed a little odd to him that the woman's sole correspondent should write to her so rarely, but it was even odder to think that Ran's mother had only bothered to save the ones from such regular intervals. Feeling a stirring of hope, he opened one of the older ones.

"My dearest child,

I trust this letter finds you well. I won't bore you with the gossip and the comings and goings around here. I shall simply say that for the most part, things continue quietly and without incident. I am well, and the rest of the household get along tolerably enough. It is a shame you could not see the flowers this spring; they were quite lovely.

All my love,

Auntie Keiko"

Youji frowned as he finished the letter, then reached for the next one in the stack, slowly working his way down the pile. Most all of them continued along the lines of the first one. They were all short and to the point, only stating that all was well and occasionally commenting on some inane occurrence. They all began "My dearest child," and were all signed "Auntie Keiko."

"I've never seen a correspondent with so little to say," Omi remarked, having read the letters over Youji's shoulder.

"Nor I," Youji said. "Especially since it's a woman. They usually go on forever."

"It's a bit strange too, don't you think," Omi said, "that there is never any mention of them meeting or even of any letters being sent in return."

"Odd," You muttered, half to himself.

Omi held up the last letter, still sealed in its envelope. "Maybe there will be something in this one. It hasn't been opened, but it's from the same person."

"Probably just more of the same," Youji muttered, but he took the envelope and, breaking the seal, began to read.

"My dearest child,

At last, something exciting to report. The youngest daughter of the house, who as you know has been missing for some years, has been located at last. There's been quite a to-do about it here. I understand the weather where you are has been very bad lately. Please be careful, and be sure to find a safe place to wait out the storm.

All my love,

Auntie Keiko."

"Household news and weather," Youji mused. "Two very common topics, but she switches between them rather abruptly."

"She's not talking about the weather," Omi said with quiet certainty. "It's a warning. Not one of the other letters mentioned anything about a 'daughter of the house,' as she refers to her, but she obviously expects her reader to know the background. I think Ran's mother might be that daughter of the house, and this woman is trying to tell her that she's been found and to find a new place to hide."

Youji looked at the letter, thinking over the implications. "Why on earth wasn't it opened?" he asked, scowling at it. "Warnings don't do any good if they're never heard."

Omi took the letter from Youji, glancing over it. "It's dated six years ago," he observed. "Ran's mother would already have been dead by then. I'm surprised her 'Auntie Keiko' didn't know that."

Youji's head whipped around to stare at Omi. "Six years ago, you said?"

"Yes. Why?"

"That would make it about the time Aya disappeared."

Omi's eyes widened. "You're right."

Youji eyed the letter in his hand, a grim look on his face. "Find Ran," he said.

/-/-/-/

Ran sighed heavily and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the brunet padding along beside him. When he had declared that he needed air and was heading out for a walk, he had also stated his intention to stay close to the house, but that hadn't stopped Ken from insisting on accompanying him. Surprisingly, Ran found that he didn't resent the intrusion on his privacy. He was glad to have Ken with him. If nothing else, it was an added measure of security, not to be alone. After the previous day's events, he had decided that taking chances was foolish, even so close to his own house, and he carried his sword this time. He knew that Ken was also armed, although his weapons were more discreet and less visible.

Quite aside from having another set of eyes and capable hands with him, Ran was glad of Ken's company. He hoped it would distract him from thinking about things he didn't want to, such as his mother and whatever secrets she had been hiding from him and the rest of his family. He couldn't help but wonder whether Omi's surmises about her were true. And if they were, had she ever told his father about her family history? Had she been the only one to know of the burden she was placing on her children simply by bringing them into the world, and had she ever really thought about it? Did she ever even know what her family was associated with?

"Hey," Ken reached over and poked him in the side. "You're brooding again."

"Sorry," Ran muttered distractedly.

Ken watched him for a moment as he frowned at the ground. "You say you're sorry, but you don't stop doing it," he observed.

Ran dragged his eyes up from the ground to meet Ken's. "I can't," he said. "I keep wondering if my mother even knew what she was, and if so, why she never said anything to us."

"She probably did know," Ken said. "After all, you said yourself it was like she was trying to hide from something. And she probably thought you were too young."

"Why even have children if you know you carry a curse like that?" Ran asked gloomily.

"Now that's not fair," Ken said, scowling at him a little. "Why shouldn't she want to have children? And are you saying you're sorry you exist? 'Cause I'm sure not."

"No," Ran said, "it's not that. It just seems reckless to me."

Ken shrugged. "She probably figured that she was safe, so you would be too. And anyway, it's not like you actually carried the family name. Maybe she thought being called Fujimiya would protect you."

"Maybe," Ran said, his tone doubtful.

Ken frowned. "You really need to stop brooding, 'cause I'm starting to have a hard time defending a woman I never met."

"Sorry," Ran said again. "You're probably right. I just can't help thinking about it."

"Well, then we might as well go see how Youji and Omi are coming along," Ken said. "Do you think they've found anything yet?"

"I doubt it," Ran said. "They're probably still sorting. There were a lot of papers in there."

"Well, maybe we should go help them," Ken said. "If you want to, that is."

Ran considered for a moment. None of his distraction strategies thus far had really succeeded in taking his mind off his mother, so he supposed there was nothing to be lost by simply facing the problem head on. "We might as well," he said. "Come on, let's head back."

"Let's not," said a familiar voice from behind them.

Ran and Ken both spun around instantly, their weapons in their hands before they had even completed the turn. Standing facing them with a smug smirk on his face was the red haired stranger from the previous day.

"My, my," he said, eyeing their weapons with more amusement than alarm. "A little jumpy today, aren't we? And I see you're both prepared this time. It's lucky for me that I am too." So saying, he made a kind of waving gesture and a second man stepped out from behind a nearby tree. His dark clothes contrasted sharply with his white hair and pale skin, and the scars littering his body as well as the eye patch covering one eye gave the impression of a man not to be trifled with.

The redhead pointed at Ken. "Just take care of that one for me, Farfarello, and I'll handle the rest," he said.

The man called Farfarello turned his single golden eye on Ken, and the gleam of pleased insanity in it was enough to make Ken take an involuntary step back. Then the redhead took a step towards Ran, and Ken forgot all about Farfarello and lunged for him instead.

The redhead, however, sidestepped the blow so easily and so quickly that Ran practically didn't see him move. He almost casually tripped Ken as he went by, sending him reeling just as Farfarello jumped forward to meet him. Ken barely managed to duck out of the way, turning what should have been a fatal strike into a gash along his upper left arm.

"What's the matter?" the redhead asked, sneering at Ken as he hastily backed away from Farfarello. "Did you think I would be easier to handle? I'll admit, you did manage to catch me off guard yesterday, but don't think you'll be lucky enough to have it happen twice."

He advanced towards Ken, and Ran, brandishing his sword, lunged at him. Two against one did not strike him as good odds, even for a fighter as skilled as Ken, and besides, Ran still felt he had the pay the red haired stranger back for the previous day. But his blade met only air as the man, somehow managing to anticipate his move, sidestepped it as neatly as he had evaded Ken earlier.

Ran quickly spun around, bringing himself back to face his opponent again. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ken and Farfarello locked in combat, each trying to strike the other with the long knives they fought with only to have their blows deflected. He only hoped that Ken would have the sense to concentrate on his fight and ignore Ran's. He and Farfarello seemed to be about evenly matched, and any slip of concentration on Ken's part might give his opponent the advantage and wind up with him getting seriously hurt.

'Just don't worry about protecting me, idiot, and concentrate on yourself,' Ran thought.

The problem, however, as he was quickly discovering, was that he could probably have used a little protection. While Ran hardly fancied himself a poor swordsman and his opponent seemed to be unarmed, he couldn't seem to score a hit on the man. All of his slashes and stabs were evaded with far more ease than should have been possible. Again and again he attacked, trying angles and tactics that he hadn't had to use for a long time, and still his every attempt was met with disappointment. The other man didn't even attempt to strike back at him, he simply continued to dodge, letting Ran wear himself out while he seemed to be expending only minimal effort. It was both frustrating and infuriating, and if the smirk on the other man's face was any indication, he knew it.

How long this state of affairs might have continued, Ran wasn't sure, but it was ended abruptly when a cold and eerily familiar voice ordered, "Schuldich, stop playing with him and just capture him."

Ran spun around to face the newcomer, shock and fury making him forget everyone else for a moment. He knew that voice and had been almost hoping to find its owner during his quest for Takatori to get his revenge on the man. And now here he was, standing before him. There was no mistaking those hard golden eyes. It was the man who had carried off his sister six years ago.

"Aw," Schuldich said, sounding almost whiny. "You take all the fun out of life."

Despite his complaint, he was quick to obey the man's orders, and a moment later a swift and well placed kick knocked Ran's hand open and sent his sword spinning out of his grasp. He made a desperate lunge after it, knowing after two encounters that hand-to-hand combat with the redhead was probably a mistake. However, before he could reach his weapon, his arm was grabbed and twisted painfully behind his back, and despite his struggles, Schuldich soon had him pinioned.

Somehow, in the midst of his own fight, Ken had noticed his plight, for he heard a frantic cry of "Ran!" followed by a spray of blood as Ken lashed out at Farfarello in desperation and managed to knock him back. He started towards them, fury written all over his face, only to have Farfarello leap into his path, the wound Ken had just dealt him having been dismissed as insignificant.

Both Schuldich and the other man turned to face the distraction, eyeing Ken appraisingly.

"This one's going to be troublesome," Schuldich said to his superior. "He's bound and determined to follow us, no matter what we do."

"You're sure?" The man asked.

Schuldich nodded. "He's not going to give up until he's dead."

Those golden eyes turned to survey Ken dispassionately through the glasses. "Very well. I had hoped to avoid unnecessary attention in this area, but if nothing else will stop him, then we may as well. Kill him, Farfarello."

The smile that spread over Farfarello's face suggested that he had been hoping for these orders. Ran, however, renewed his struggles. "No!" he yelled, straining desperately to get free, to reach his weapon, to make Ken run away, anything!

It was all in vain, however, and a moment later a sharp blow to the back of his neck sent him reeling down into darkness.

/-/-/-/

Farfarello barely noticed as Crawford slung the body of the unconscious redhead over his shoulder and headed off into the woods surrounding the house and its gardens. His attention was fixed on his prey, the agitated brunet who was currently casting wary looks at him alternated with desperate glances after his fallen companion. Foolish man. He'd just heard Crawford order his death; he should have been more concerned with himself.

As Crawford and Schuldich disappeared in the trees, the brunet made his move, lunging at Farfarello and then when he brought his blade up to meet the attack suddenly diving left, trying to slip around him. Disgusted, Farfarello realized that the man wasn't interested in fighting him anymore, only getting past him. Well that certainly took the fun out of things. If that was all he was going to do, perhaps killing him quickly was advisable.

Bringing up his knife, Farfarello tried to strike at the man's back as he dove past him. The brunet must have been watching him out of the corner of his eye, however, for he managed to roll out of the way. Farfarello used the moment it took the young man to climb back to his feet to plant himself between his opponent and the route his companions had taken. If the idiot was bound and determined to go after them, he would damn well fight for that privilege.

The brunet growled low in his throat and glared at him, hatred in his brown eyes. Good. Maybe this would turn out to be fun after all. Then his opponent lunged, and the two of them were locked in struggle once more. The man was good, Farfarello would grant him that. His blows were quick and well placed, and he was able to deflect most of the stabs aimed at him. However, he still couldn't quite contain his flinches whenever Farfarello managed to gash him, and he seemed confused that Farfarello didn't react whenever he managed to score a hit. It would take time, but given that slight advantage, Farfarello was sure that he could wear this man down enough to finish the job.

Or at least he would have been able to if they had been left to fight without interference.

The first Farfarello knew of the arrival of two more people was when he felt an impact against his right shoulder. Glancing down, he was a little surprised to note the end of a crossbow bolt sticking out. Looking up, he saw the source, a blond boy holding a crossbow aimed at him, and behind him, a taller man with something Farfarello couldn't see in his hand. Both of them were glaring death at him

'Schuldich,' he sent mentally, knowing his companion would hear him. 'There are two more of them. Can I deal with them the same way?'

'Sure,' came the disinterested reply. 'Just don't take too long. Now that we've got the boy, Crawford wants to get out of here as soon as possible.'

Farfarello was prevented from answering by a sudden blow to his chest. His conversation with Schuldich had caused him to neglect the brunet for a moment too long, and the man had slashed at him, cutting him almost to the bone and nearly knocking him over. He staggered back a few steps and glanced at the wound.

'Schuldich, I'm bleeding,' he sent. There was no trace of alarm in his mental voice, only a sort of detached fascination.

'How badly?' Schuldich asked.

Farfarello took another step back from his opponents and surveyed himself. 'It's kind of squirting in one place.'

'Idiot!' Schuldich sent back. 'Get out of there before you bleed to death!'

'But what about them?' Farfarello asked, eyeing the three young men with interest. The small blond, he noticed, was reloading his crossbow. That didn't worry him any. It would be fun, taking them down. They would at least put up a good fight, unlike most of the people he'd had to face recently.

There was a pause in the mental conversation. Evidently Schuldich was consulting Crawford, for after a moment he said, 'Crawford says it doesn't matter as long as you don't let them follow you. They have no idea where we're going, so they won't be able to follow.'

Farfarello continued to eye the other three, not entirely happy with that response. He would have liked to take them on and watch them bleed, and really, he didn't see what the problem was. He was bleeding; so what? The only reason it was important was because Schuldich always told him that it was and that he should always let the other man know when he was injured in a fight. He could have dealt with those three easily. But Schuldich thought of himself as being above everyone except Crawford in the chain of command, and he tended to get a little irritated when he was disobeyed.

So instead of moving to return the blow, Farfarello turned and ran for the trees.

The other three seemed surprised by this move, either because they hadn't expected him to run when he'd so adamantly stood his ground earlier, or because they hadn't expected him to move so fast with the injuries he had sustained. After a moment, however, they all leaped into action. He barely managed to dive behind a tree before another arrow thumped into it, and the tall man was already running after him. The brunet also jumped forward to pursue him. He was stopped, however, by the small blond, who grabbed his arm.

"You can't go chasing after him like this! You're bleeding everywhere!"

"Let me go!" the brunet hollered, struggling fiercely. "They took Ran! Let me go!"

Farfarello ignored them, concentrating on evading the man who was still following him. It wasn't too problematic. Despite his injuries, he was still fast on his feet, and either Schuldich or Crawford had had the foresight to leave his horse waiting for him. Once he reached it, it was easy. There was no way the man could keep up with him on foot, and he left his pursuer cursing in the dust. It was almost too easy.

He cast his mind back to the brunet, wondering at the man's adamant refusal to let him escape. The boy was right, he was bleeding rather profusely in several different places. Not that that would have stopped Farfarello, but he realized that most other people found it a deterrent. And the brunet hadn't even seemed to enjoy their fight that much. And yet he was still determined to go after him, even when he knew Farfarello might be leading him only to death.

Honestly, and people said he was crazy.

Tbc...

Author's Note: Ah, icky fight scenes. How I hate writing them.