017: TEAMWORK

"They ain't movin'," Satero muttered. For once his voice was quiet. For once Corosa could barely hear him. "What the hell do you think they're doin' now?"

"None of your concern," Corosa replied. "You shouldn't even be moving around."

"Fuck, man, it's just my shoulder."

That was the strange thing, Corosa thought. It should have been more than just his shoulder. Corosa still distinctly remembered two hits landing. The missing injury was from the stab. If it had landed, Satero would be dead. But there was no sign of a second injury. Satero had probably bitten the assassin, then. Corosa wouldn't put it past him.

"Yes. Your shoulder," Corosa agreed. "And your leg."

Satero's grin widened. "So now you're feelin' sorry."

Corosa shut up and returned his attention to the assassin and the archer. They had stopped, probably thinking Corosa and Satero had stopped as well – which they had done some ways back, when Satero's leg finally overruled his willpower. Corosa had supported him the rest of the way. He'd tried to convince the mastersmith that his leg was more important than some equipment that Corosa could probably buy again – after he somehow magically found more money – but Satero had threatened to bite his other hand off. He'd made a lunge for it, and now Corosa's knuckles were bleeding.

That, and Corosa did want to reclaim his case.

"What the hell does an assassin and an archer want with your guns, anyway?" Satero asked. "I mean, assassin crosses, they ain't all that common...you'd think he'd be able to go make money headhuntin' or something."

"I don't kno– oh, did he just throw – he did." Corosa winced, thinking of all his equipment and what sort of abuse it was suffering.

"Aw," Satero said, with a shit-eating grin on his face. He mussed Corosa's hair and continued. "Don't worry, we'll rescue your precious babies."

"They're not—"

"Shut up, no one cares." Satero drew himself into a crouch, testing his leg by putting some weight on it. He winced. "Well, what the hell. 'S now or never. Oy, those are OURS, you fucking bastards!"

Nearly getting his ear blown off by Satero's shout was well worth the expression on the thieves' faces, especially when Satero tackled the nearest one – the archer – to the ground. The assassin cross reacted far more quickly than Corosa had expected, slamming the case shut, locking it, and then dashing away with the same impossible speed as before.

The archer made a strangled noise that probably meant something along the lines of 'are you running without me, you bastard?'

Unlike before, Corosa was ready this time; as soon as Satero had gotten the archer out of the way, Corosa was already running after the assassin cross. Who, unfortunately, only seemed to gain speed the longer he went. Corosa swore to himself and fumbled with his revolver, slowing down just long enough to take aim and shoot. He missed, but the assassin stumbled and found Corosa's gun against his head as soon as he tried to get up.

"Mind returning that?" Corosa asked, without a trace of amusement in his voice. He didn't kill other people, but there was always a first.

The assassin hadn't turned. He seemed to be considering his options.

Abruptly he twisted around and dropped. Corosa's finger twitched, but the shot went over the assassin's head. Acting on reflex, Corosa kicked out and sent the man sprawling.

"Erk!"

Something darted between Corosa and the assassin, and that something turned out to be the archer, looking like a madman. There was a demented look in his eye. That aside, he was still one of the strangest-looking people Corosa had ever seen. His bangs were colored black, the rest of his hair was white, and there were strange tattoos around his eyes – which were green, and had slit pupils.

Without hesitation, the archer grabbed the assassin by the hair, yanked him up, and shoved him towards Corosa with an urgency that spoke of terror. His eyes darted over Corosa's shoulders with a quizzical twitch of his eyebrows. Corosa didn't glance backwards, but he was sure Satero was right behind.

The assassin was looking at the archer like he was insane.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Argh," the archer said, now sounding irritated.

"Fff."

"Argh"

"Eh."

"Aaaargh."

"Hph."

"Argh!"

"What the hell," Satero muttered, walking up and leaning on Corosa's shoulder. He waved at the archer, who promptly jumped back behind the assassin and tried to shrink.

"Are they...foreign...?" Corosa asked, feeling more and more confused by the moment. The exchange was still going, and had evolved into an astonishing variety of strange noises. The assassin seemed to have forgotten that Corosa and Satero were even there, whereas the archer was trying to avoid Satero's gaze by any means possible.

"Nah," Satero said, wiping his mouth off the back of his hand. "Mutes. No tongues. Don't ask how, 'cause I sure as hell don't know."

The exchange of noises fell into silence as the archer whacked the assassin over the head, and then kicked him in the shins.

"Eh?" The assassin seemed more surprised than hurt. He put a hand over the archer's forehead, as if he were checking for fever. The archer glared at him.

"...uh." The assassin shrugged. Then he turned back to Corosa, with a murderous gleam in his eye.

He held out the case. Corosa began to reach for it. Satero spluttered, and batted his hand away.

"Gun up. Ya can trust the archer, but I wouldn't say the same of this one."

The assassin looked like he'd just been cheated. His mouth twitched as the handle of the case left his hand.

There was a split second when Corosa thought he saw one of the katars start moving, but all the assassin was doing was stretching his arm.

Satero dropped the case in the grass next to Corosa. It failed to detonate. In fact, it failed to do anything suspicious at all. They stared at it for a moment, but when it continued to be completely innocent their attention returned to the thieves.

"Alright. We ain't gonna kill you this time, but if I see your asses around here again I can't promise nothin'." The dark look on the assassin's face was nothing compared to the one on Satero's. "Yeah?"

The assassin, evidently unimpressed, made a face and flicked them off. The archer beat him over the head with his bow, eyes wide with panic.

"Get goin'." Satero paused, and then laughed softly to himself. He grinned at the archer. "'less ya wanna stay with us? Guess I wouldn't mind."

The archer grabbed his partner and made a run for it, as if Satero had just thrown a bomb at them.

Corosa was already sitting, the grass scratching at him as he opened the case. It was in disarray. The duo had been rifling through his things, but it didn't seem as if anything was missing. Just disorganized. Even the zeny was still there.

He looked up in the direction towards which the archer and assassin had disappeared.

"What'd you do to the archer, anyway?" Corosa asked.

Satero whistled and would not answer.

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A/N: MYSTERY! Let us just say it was traumatizing, and Stone will not be recovering any time soon.

And don't worry, they'll be back. ...Possibly. ...Sound will, anyway. Stone will probably be trying to poison himself in their next chapter.