Ever since that night in the motel when I ripped Ginji's heart unceremoniously and unwittingly open he has been acting more and more like he did when I first met him. He smiles. But, no light reaches his eyes. He laughs. But, the sound is bitter instead of joyful. He lied to me when he told me that he did not remember anything. I pretend to be angry and indifferent. But, really, I'm frightened.

When I first met Ginji I knew he had a sweet soul. Only he kept it behind a locked door. Getting to know him was a simple matter of coaxing that door open. It wasn't hard – we have both had sad lives, we both know what death looks like and we both know what it is to be lonely. And I guess he did the same for me that I did for him.

Slowly he opened to me and slowly I realized just what a treasure he is. I made my home in his heart. I bathed in its beauty, slept cloaked in its warmth and consumed its lovely, trusting radiance.

So I have the notion that the sinking feeling I got in my stomach – in that room, in that bed – when I ripped the door to Ginji's heart open is similar to what our clients feel when they return home to find their dwelling ransacked. The walls still stand. The kitchen still has a sink. The bedroom still has a bed. But, the rooms have been turned upside down. They have been ripped apart by uncaring and unfamiliar hands. Important things have been taken. The safety that was home no longer is because an unwelcome stranger has trespassed there – in that secret space.

Ginji still stands. But, he is empty of warmth. His trust has been shattered. His beauty is hiding. The observations he makes about people are no longer kind. However, they are not unkind. They are simply – empty, devoid of emotion.

For example, the other day at the Honky Tonk I inhaled my sandwich. He turned to me with his cheek resting on the heel of his hand and asked with disinterested eyes, "Ban, you ever consider eating competitively?"

The sad part was that I actually thought it might have been a good idea before I realized how insulted I was, "Shut up, man."

Emishi laughed behind the counter. Paul let him take up a part time job in the café because Natsumi asked nicely. She has Emishi so whipped. It's pathetic. He'll work her hours so she can hang out with her friends then turn around and spend all of the money he makes on her. I think he really likes her though. He isn't just looking for sex. He always talks about what beautiful hair she has with this weird dreamy look in his eyes. I guess where he comes from hair is an important feature for a woman.

The room grew quiet. Emishi suggested, "Why don't you eat your grilled cheese, Ginji-han?"

Ginji pushed the plate away, "I don't want it."

"What?" Emishi exclaimed dramatically. "I risked my life to make you that sandwich."

Ginji didn't laugh. I have no idea why Paul would employ someone with flammable blood to cook over a gas range. It's beyond me. Natsumi must have asked really nicely. I excused myself to go feed the meter. Lately Ginji has been getting really pissed off at my erratic driving and irresponsibility with concern to parking the car. As much as it annoys me that he is so pissy I didn't want another argument on the way to the police station to pick up the car.

I heard footsteps following me down the sidewalk. Emishi hurried to catch up with me. I paused and looked at him. I could tell that he was looking for a fight, even if he didn't realize it. His left hand was tensed and ready to draw his whip. I ignored the dirty look he was giving me through his sunglasses and lit a cigarette.

I clicked my lighter closed, "You want to fight me or something, Clown?"

He gathered his whip in one hand as if he thought I was going to attack him first, "No."

I started walking away, "Okay, then."

He stood there for a moment, confused I guess, before he called after me, "What the hell is your problem?" I ignored the question. He caught up to me again. We walked for about a block in silence before he accused, "You're hiding something, Midou."

I pushed my sliding glasses up the bridge of my nose. If Emishi has anything going for him it is the fact that he has balls, "What gives you that idea?"

He cut right to the chase, "He is losing weight." There was not the usual hint of laughter in his voice.

I replied, "Oh." The syllable hung heavily between us. When we got to the car I quietly fed the meter. Emishi was still standing there when I was done. I grunted, "What?" in the hopes that he would leave me alone.

His strange turquoise eyes were very frustrated behind his blue lenses, "What do you mean what?"

"If you want to know so badly go ask Ginji yourself," I hissed the same way a cornered snake does when it is about to strike.

"You don't think I haven't done that already?" there was a soothing tone to his voice but, he still provoked as if annoyed that we would not let him in on what had happened.

My heart sunk slightly. I tried not to sound too interested, "What did he say?"

The look on his face melted from frustration to brotherly concern, "He said that he was very say. He said that he just wanted to be sad for a little bit."

I saw my opportunity and struck. "And you couldn't just leave it at that?" I concluded viciously. I was not in the mood to have a heart to heart. Ginji's recent coldness was getting to me. Without him calming me I have a very short fuse. "Why are you still bothering us?"

That got to him. He stomped his dancer's foot angrily, "You know exactly what I'm bothering you."

"Yeah?" I flicked my cigarette butt away.

"Yeah!" He pointed with his whip, "You're withholding information."

"Get that thing out of my face," I batted it away. "And give me one good reason why I should tell you anything."

"Okay," he sighed. "Whatever it is you're dealing with with Ginji isn't something that you can take on all by yourself. I mean – he needs support – I think even if you don't." He paused emotionally. He is such a touchy-feely 'family above all else' son of a bitch. "He's family. You don't just leave family."

"Good point," I lit another cigarette.

He looked surprised. He did have a point though, "So, you'll tell me?"

I folded my sunglasses, "I'll show you."

He looked distrustful for a moment. I encouraged roughly, "Come on. Don't be such a pussy. I won't hurt 'cha. Besides," I smiled, "this is the only way that I'll tell you."

He sighed once again as he removed his sunglasses, "You just love to be difficult. Don't you?"

"This is going to be a little intense. You should sit down."

He rolled his eyes and sat down with his back leaning up against the Subaru. I squatted in front of him and gathered my thoughts.

Emishi interrupted, "What's taking so long?"

I growled, "Shut up. You're breaking my concentration."

He was quiet for a moment, "Is it really that hard?"

"Yes," I hissed. "It is. Now be quiet. You're worse than Ginji with your stupid questions." I closed my eyes. When I opened them I announced, "Okay. I'm ready."

Our eyes met and I have him my piercing look. It is hard to describe what it feels like to give the evil eye – about as hard as describing color to a blind child. I could the the child how the eye sees color. But, I could not describe what the color red looks like. So, I can explain the mechanics of it. I think about a series of images in my head, like a movie or a story, then I do it. We connect. I burn the images from my mind onto theirs. They look into themselves for a minute. Then it's over.

For lack of anything better to do I timed Emishi on my pocket watch. When the minute ran I asked, "How was it?" just to make sure he came out of it okay.

He just swore dully, "How long ago?"

"Three weeks."

He had a murderous look in his eyes, "What are we doing just sitting here?" he implored. "We gotta go find this bastard."

I sighed, waiting for him to catch on, "No, that is exactly what we aren't going to do."

He stood, whip in hand. The glint in his eye and the way his pony-tail flared out behind him made him look like an angry dragon, "Where I come from we don't let men get away with rape. In fact, traditionally, we gouge out their eyes, strip them naked then leave them alone in the desert to die."

"Well," I put my glasses back on. "As satisfying as that sounds, where I come from we think about things before we go out and do them."

"What's there to think about?" he persisted.

I gave up trying to get him to draw the obvious conclusion on his own and fed it to him, "This pervert likes his victims fighting. Right?"

"So?" he lowered his tensed arms.

"So, Ginji wasn't fighting. Was he?"

"I'm sure he was. But, not the way he would have been if he weren't drugged."

I started walking back towards the Honky Tonk, "Exactly."

"Exactly?" Emishi repeated slowly. "Wait. I don't get it."

"You're really slow. Akabane likes it when his victims fight back. That is what he gets off on. He had ample opportunity to fight me at that filling station. Fifteen minutes is a lot of time in hand to hand combat. You know that. He could very well have picked a fight with me then. But, he didn't. He deliberately took Ginji. This was something he planned."

Emishi interrupted, "You think he is fucking with us?"

He finally got it, "There you go, Ace. He wants us to fight him. What better way to pick a fight than to harm Ginji? He has some very good fighters backing him up."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to wait until Ginji gets better."

He blinked owlishly, "You think he'll just better if we wait?"

I grinned, more to make myself feel better than anything else, "Have some confidence in him! He's Ginji for God's sake. He just needs time. He'll figure it out." I brashly offered, "Give him three weeks. What do you want to bet that he'll be right as rain in three weeks?"

He murmured, "What an awful bet." Then he grinned back at me, "A weeks worth of wages?"

We shook hands, "Done."

Emishi suddenly said, "You know it wasn't your fault."

I guess I had given him a little bit too much insight into my feelings with that dream. I let go of his hand as I felt heat rising in my cheeks, "I'm warning you man."

He just laughed, "And I never knew you felt that way about Ginji. I mean, wow. I got the feeling that you two were more than just friends what with all the, 'GetBackers forever and ever and ever stuff. But, butt buddies? Not that I have anything against that. Whatever you're into."

"Ah! Shut up!" It was a full blow blush now. "Just shut up."