Sabo is running for his life. Again.

It isn't really anything new, so he shouldn't complain, but really, this job is getting to be a pain in the ass. The sound of phantom sirens is pounding in his ears and his fingers are still slippery with blood as he makes his dizzying way to the main road.

Alright, so hold up. Rewind. Here's what really happened.

Sabo was on graveyard shift at the barber shop up in the Greenhills Estates, his latest post since his mission downstate. The reek of money was everywhere even when he was alone for the night and Sabo hated every second there.

He'd just been cleaning up, an hour since everyone else left, when the front door's bell rang to signal a customer's arrival. The blond sighed to himself and slapped a welcoming smile on his face.

"Good evening, sir. How may we be of service today?"

It was a good thing the new arrival was flipping through the magazines set on the table stand by the door; it took Sabo a few seconds to get his expression under control. He hid his grin quickly as the man turned to him after picking up the copy of the day's paper.

The rabbit had just walked into the lion's den.

"You alone here? I need Juan to do my regular," Roberto Alianse said, eyes glinting under thick eyebrows.

One of the major players in Laville's politics and financially worth more than even the governor, Alianse had been a target of the Ryuugo for his corruption and machinations for years—and he was exactly the type of man Sabo hated. He'd grown up alone and on the streets, taken advantage of by rich, entitled men such as this after he'd run away from home. They weren't his proudest moments, but before he was picked up by Dragon's group, he'd survived the only way he knew how. That was how he knew exactly what kind of man Alianse was from the moment they'd met eyes at the entrance of the shop.

Lucky me, Sabo thought grimly as he rinsed out the razor in the water tub before slathering shaving cream over Alianse's jaw, ignoring how the bastard's eyes darkened in desire as they followed him about the room.

Sabo silently cursed Dragon to hell and back, wishing anyone else could have been sent on this assignment. Not that he had a choice. Terrorist group, vigilantes, whatever their bunch called themselves, Sabo knew for a fact that he owed them. And hey, he was good at his job and it generally didn't bother him being sent undercover to kill off the men in the way of Dragon's plans.

Didn't mean he had to like being stuck with this sick perverted asshole in a small space.

"I don't believe I've seen you before, boy. Are you new here?" Alianse's voice grated on his ears as Sabo finished up with the shave. His fingers twitched but he knew he couldn't kill him just yet. Not yet.

He turned around instead and busied himself putting away his tools. "Something like that, sir. I've been working graveyard for the past few months, so not quite as new as you'd expect."

The blond flashed the bastard a little smile before letting his eyes slide away in disinterest.

Alianse leaned forward in the chair, eyebrows raised in interest.

"Night shift? Are you a student, then?"

Sabo forced himself to laugh breathily in response. "No time for that, sir. I've been helping out at me mum's bakery, what with her having no time to take care of my little brother when my dad left us and all."

He tried not to snort at the idea of his mother doing any kind of manual labor as he leaned over to take the cape from Alianse's neck.

"Financial problems and all, sir."

What happened next was inevitable.

In a flash, there's a knife in Sabo's hand pinning Alianse's arm to the chair and the other stifling his screams. The skin on Sabo's waist and behind where Alianse had grabbed him felt like it was burning. Distantly, he wondered how long he'd have to scrub himself before he stopped feeling disgusting.

He'd blown his cover but it was too late now. With eyes spilling hate, he slit the bastard's throat quickly before Alianse could think to scream.

But Sabo hadn't reckoned on his hand shaking hard enough to draw a ragged line instead of a clean cut.

Oh it killed him, sure enough. But the force of the blow had the blood spilling all over Sabo's hands and splattering into his eyes. He stumbled back, eyes screwed shut, pushing away from the gurgling corpse as his fingers lost their grip on the butterfly knife he always kept in his back pocket. Alianse tipped over and the thuds both body and chair made were like thunder in the silence.

"For the love of every mother—" Sabo hissed softly as he got to his feet. He rubbed his eyes clean on his sleeve as he listened to the sound of car doors slamming and heavy footsteps coming from outside the shop. Of course bastard wouldn't come alone.

Oh well. He whistled softly to himself as his head cleared of all of his distracting thoughts. Now, with Alianse dead and no threat left to him but that of death if the men outside caught him, Sabo already felt better than he usually did. He'd botched the mission, of course, but all he needed to do was get to Dragon and he could always talk his way out of this mess he'd gotten himself into.

Probably.

Sabo stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the damage. "So. What shall we do now, Outlook?"

He figured he only had a few seconds left, judging by the force of what he assumed were Alianse's lackeys rattled the doorknob with, so there was almost definitely no time to clean up. He had just grabbed one of the towels to at least wipe the worst of the blood on his hands off when he heard the door slamming open. Make that no time at all, then. Sabo laughed a little crazily and slipped out of the nearest window and down into the alley to run for his life. Again.

So now here he is, close to the main road but not quite close enough. He's already had a few close calls with Alianse's men and his head is throbbing as he stumbles through the trash in one of the shadier alleys he'd tried escaping through.

There isn't anyone around to tell him he looks quite insane. The previously pristine uniform is rumpled from all the narrow escapes, dress shoes and pants hem stinking from exposure to trash and nasty liquids on the ground; his hair is tinged with blood from when he'd run his still dripping fingers through them out of habit; there's a wild look in his eyes like a cornered animal as his mind runs furiously through his options.

Sabo figures he ought to just let himself be caught by the police for now, act crazy and desperate and say it was self defense. They'd put him in a holding cell for the night as they tried to verify his claims, his back story that held no real substance. But it would take at least twenty-four hours and he'd be safe from Alianse's men.

He could always escape jail once he was in there. He couldn't come back from the dead.

The police it is. He heads for the main road, head still throbbing but at least he has a plan now. Sort of.

He's listening hard for where the sirens are coming from as he stumbles out of the back streets and into the well-lit road, so he doesn't much pay attention to the other noises around him. Like the unmistakable purr of a high-end engine coming straight at him.

What he does notice is the bright headlights flashing right into his eyes, blinding him, and the sudden screech of someone slamming into the brakes. Sabo enjoys a split-second of humor at thinking he might die tonight anyway, although for the dumbest reason possible.

But his pulse is still pounding in his veins and the longest eternity has passed and he hasn't gone to hell just yet, so Sabo figures he's still alive. He pulls the hand shielding his eyes away and looks up to the vehicle sitting less than a foot away from him, distantly noting its color, model, and plate number, like his training tells him to.

He locks eyes with a wide-eyed, bright brown gaze behind the wheel.

There's a moment where neither of them does anything but stare, weighing each other and gauging whether to run or confront. Sabo doesn't know it but the boy behind the wheel doesn't want to pick a fight in his stolen car, and the boy doesn't know it but Sabo doesn't want to draw too much attention to himself yet, what with fresh blood still on his hands.

Then the moment breaks and the boy's eyes fall to Sabo's messy appearance. The blond tenses, ready to bolt at any second, but then there's the click of a lock releasing and the boy leans over to open the passenger's seat door.

He sits back behind the wheel and there's a reckless grin on his face as he honks twice like he's telling Sabo to hurry up!

There's no one around to tell Sabo his answering grin is every bit as wide as the other, but that didn't matter right now. He shouldn't trust this boy, but he does, for whatever reason, and he slips quickly into the car, shutting the door behind him firmly. He can see the ratty red hoodie on the boy now, and Sabo ignores all the rational voices in his head yelling about how bad an idea this is (most of them sound like Koala, though he'd never tell her that).

Then the boy slams his foot onto the accelerator and Sabo has to grab for the handle over the door for dear life. He curses himself and then he curses god and then, as the kid by his side starts laughing in glee, thinks Oh, what the hell, and lets the devils take him.

He's just found his ticket out of here.