13:15 - August 21 - 1099

(Scattle - Flatline)

An unfamiliar ceiling. White, smooth, absolutely sterile. Not a crack, not a scuff, not a scrape that carries a story, nothing. Nothing should distract or disturb the patient, that was the principle of Lungmen medicine. It was not uncommon to find patients with oripathy in the hospital wards, who had become demented because of their illness and had seen ursus war maps and invasion plans in the cracks of the walls.

Morning... No, the day of the black-haired she-wolf began with a silent contemplation of the unfamiliar ceiling. Or rather, of the black flies, looking for a place in the smooth ceiling, and, failing to find it, scattered like a swarm of ants, and dizziness. Damn, she wasn't badly hurt, was she?

Judging by the red bag hanging from a special stand and the tubes coming off of it, she was. Texas spun around a bit, fumbled with the ends of those tubes on her arms and legs and the bandaids covering them, and sank back onto the bed. Shivering from the cold, she tried to remember what had brought her here.

What had happened yesterday? A date. She'd been having a nice conversation with a mysterious guy who turned out to be quite interesting, and then someone had shot her. The last thing she remembered were strong arms holding her firmly but gently. Care from a mercenary. Huh. The girl grinned cynically at these thoughts, but then suddenly faltered. Mercenary to mercenary, but he'd plugged her wound, hadn't he? She would've been dead on the spot. And someone had taken her to the hospital, hadn't they?

Texas looked around: a hospital room, with all the equipment, the white cloth, and the silence that smelled of medicine. She hadn't been in places like this very often, but even the occasional time she'd been here had knocked her out for a long time. Time in the hospital is a time without work, time without money, traveling, or fighting. The dullest, and therefore worst time of her life.

Her tail stiffened, as did her whole body. The girl stretched a little, twisting her head, and squeaked as she stood up on her bunk. Someone had to come. As long as it was Exusiai. Though that guy would be fine too. His company would be pleasant. Wonder what was up with him now? She shifted her gaze to the clock that showed twenty past thirteen and froze in anticipation.

The minutes stretched like hours in silence. In that time she had time to cheer herself up with a couple songs, and plan a few routes. The languid wait was finally interrupted when the door to the room opened quietly. Texas froze. Along with a thin strip of light and a click, a blondy head entered the room. She recognized him as yesterday's companion and smiled.

"Good morning."

"You too, Simon."

The head fully appeared from behind the door, turned into a tidy guy. The patient giggled, noticing the ridiculous mask with gloves on him, and the bulging booties. The blue contrasted with the white robe, which looked odd on the visitor's massive figure.

"Can you... Can you talk now?" Simon asked cautiously.

"Yes, it's okay." The girl smoothed the folds on the bed, inviting the visitor to sit down.

He accepted the invitation, and cautiously sat down on the bed next to her. The guy stared silently into Texas's golden eyes, trying to see something, or be convinced of something. He did it with such an intense look that even the nonchalant Texas pouted, and nudged him in the side.

"It's okay," she repeated more insistently. "You did the best you could."

"Give me your hand," came out of the guest's mouth after a long silence.

The girl was surprised, but obediently gave him her hand. He took her soft palm, stared at the pale pink skin, examined it closely, then shook his head and let go. He examined her so carefully that he gave the impression of a doctor, but it was so impulsive, and aimless, that Texas couldn't help herself.

"What did that mean?"

"I" The guy frowned. "I'm sorry, something came over me. Anyway..."

"It's okay." That was the third time she'd said it, now with a touch of irritation.

"Yeah. I guess."

They were silent again. But now the guy had calmed down, and was staring out the window with the look of a speaker mulling over his speech. Texas waited silently for what he had to say, and examined him, looking for changes in his appearance. And they were there. An unkind light lit up in his eyes, and his face sharpened and stiffened. Simon looked like a general who had become a statue in the National Roman Museum. He stared at one point, almost without moving, gaining even more resemblance to the statue.

But all this fervor was destined to fade away as soon as he looked at his companion. The layer of majesty melted away like wax, leaving only naturalness and curiosity. He seemed to have been all things considered. Texas tucked her tail and cleared her throat.

"I'm interested in information about the assailant," the guest began bluntly.

"Most likely my countrymen, syracusans. We've had our disagreement. Quite old ones," Texas replied in a businesslike manner.

"Syracusans is the wrong word. Someone from Syracuse is more correct. Break it down into its components and it'll be easier in no time."

"Well," the girl mumbled. "Now every Family is my enemy. I can't say for sure who sent the killer. Their names don't matter to me anymore."

"I see." Simon shrugged his shoulders. "Then... Weren't there any similar cases before?"

"O-o-o... This is a different story. Not a single order does not do without a clash with visiting mobsters."

"Which ones?"

"I can't tell you. They all look the same to me. Especially when they're hidden by hats."

"That means," Simon summed it up, "you do not know, neither who hunts you, nor who you meet? They're just punching bags, and you haven't even thought about who's behind them, have you?"

Texas lowered her eyes with slight displeasure. Everything was exactly as her companion had described. The faces of the mobsters were blending into a mess for her. Even the Boss cared more about who they were fighting. But now that her life depended on understanding what was going on, she couldn't find anything to say.

"Don't worry," he patted her shoulder. "All those assholes are mortal. And as long as they are, you're safe."

"Are you sure?" She frowned. "What if there's a killer looking at me right now through the scope of a gun?"

"That killer would have pissed in that bag," he looked questioningly at the blood in the package. "Or better yet, he would have stabbed you in your sleep before I got there."

The voice of reason in Simon's face worked and the girl exhaled in relief. In an instant, so many problems had come upon her that now she didn't know what to do next. Over the years of working as a courier, that tight, wolfish grip had loosened. Still, life in the Mafia wasn't comparable to working at Penguin Logistics.

She had to save her friends. Lay low... No, better to move aboard the Rhodes for a while and keep their heads down, they'd be safe there for sure. Sora won't be happy, but it's better than getting shot at a concert. Lappland? She can handle herself, she's not a puppy. The rest could just sit on the ship for a month or two, take it easy. But what if they find them there too?

"You know, I questioned that bitch that shot you." The blond pulled her out of her troubled thoughts. "And now I know what we're after. Let's do it when you get out of here."

The girl looked at her companion in surprise. Unlike her, his thoughts were occupied only with hunting. Like a bear, and like a wolf-hunter said.

"Don't you care about the Family's killers?" She interrupted him.

"No, I don't."

Oh, yeah. A man who slaughtered dozens of trained mobsters without bothering. What's such a thing to exhort? Texas smiled a little, but then she put on a serious face again.

"I realize you have no one to lose. But think about us. Sora, Bison, Lappland. I can't."

"I'm not interested in your friends. Just... Don't stop me from doing my job," Simon squinted, but he was adamant.

"All right, but I'm not a part of this. Volsinii was enough for me," the girl shook her head.

"Then what's the point?" The guest asked irritably. "You run away from your problems, and eventually they accumulate and you get swept away in an avalanche of shit."

"It's just..." She hesitated. "I can't. I'm tired of it. I lost my touch. That's why I joined Penguin Logistics."

The lad sighed, and stared out the window. There was a heavy silence in the room. The fog was standing outside, flooding Lungmen with a blind white cloud. It hung quite high, but even so it was incredibly cold outdoors. He seemed to be looking out for the mobsters.

"What about your friends? Were they mugged?"

"Usually they'd try to take us down in one fell swoop. But now..." Her voice trembled at the end of her sentence.

Simon hesitated, then fell silent again. Texas could only stare into his blue eyes and wonder what he was thinking. Of course, it was still the same mercenary and impassive killer, but his face had changed: he was more trying to understand something than to plan. She saw a keen interest there, not cold calculation.

"I've been thinking..." The guy began, and then stopped talking abruptly. Interest fought with impassivity, and won. "Why are they after you? I don't think you could just leave."

Black ears twitched, and Texas's golden eyes rounded. But then she... smiled. Sure, she was a very closed person who couldn't even get along with Exusiai at first, and Simon was only an oddball acquaintance to her, but... The genuine interest in her life was still pleasant.

"Are you really interested?"

"Yes," he looked at his friend with slight surprise."What's wrong with that?"

"No..." She lowered her eyes in embarrassment, but then clenched her right fist and began, "I told you before that I came from one of the Families. I was the heiress of a business. The Mafia princess."

"Wow!" Simon grinned. "I met you lucky."

"But, I was too young to become a boss. And yet fate was not favorable to me. My family was wiped out, and I was alone."

The guy moved closer to Texas, gazing into her face. Now he was sitting almost right next to her, so she could feel his breath. Normally she would have silently moved away, but now they were both too engrossed in the conversation.

"Your assailant is connected to your family's killers. And Lebedev was one of them," after some thought, Simon pointed his finger to the sky. And, judging by Lupo's nod, he guessed right. "I see."

"He's a descendant of Ursus natives. An outsider," she explained. "And yet his Family got a piece of the pie. Power and influence."

"An outsider? I thought the shadow rulers of Syracuse were a more closed society, not allowing outsiders in," the guest asked thoughtfully.

"Not at all," Texas shook her head. "Anyone can start his own Family, but who needs it? Adventurers and madmen. And you won't get the same respect as the locals..."

"Strange. I always thought this criminal hell was only for insiders. I didn't even know why I was in it," he closed his eyes, sinking into his thoughts for a second.

"No, Syracuse is cruel to everyone. Especially those who can't defend themselves."

"Okay. What does this have to do with the Lebedevs?" Simon asked uncertainly. He could not think that one of his countrymen could be in mafia.

"They were indirectly involved in the death of my family. They slaughtered people and took away the remaining holdings, nibbling the bones. I thought they weren't strong enough to come after me."

"Okay. Who exactly do you think is involved in this?"

"Alexei. The son. Dad died a long time ago, but after my story. Circumstances are mysterious, they said it wasn't a competitor, but some kind of vigilante."

"Oh, that simple? I see, that's all I need to know," the guy shrugged. "Thanks."

He got up from the bed, fixed his crumpled robe, and walked towards the exit. Suddenly he stopped, was silent for a couple of seconds, and, turning around, pulled out a red box from under his robe. With a pleasant surprise the girl recognized it as a package of chocolate sticks "Pocky".

"I noticed you chew them all the time." The phrase was thrown to her along with the box. It landed right on the bedside table. "Bought it on the way over."

Lupo's silent gratitude was overwhelming. The gold of her eyes shone even brighter, cleansed from the boredom of loneliness and hospital moping. Simon, satisfied with the effect on her, said goodbye and left.

(Ress Less - Superfluid)

The white walls were unnerving, sterile, and made him want to run away, but that was the sacrifice he had to make. That scrap of information from Texas was enough to outline a plan of action. It was a good thing he had experience in tracking down big shots.

The silence of the ward was replaced by whispers on the edge of audibility. Not a word could be understood from their conversations, but the guy's imagination painted a tragic picture. The ventilation grilles on the walls, which were relentlessly ventilating the air from the originium dust, were contributing to this, but now they were turned off. Or rather, a great many of them.

The whispers subsided, allowing the suspicious blond to exhale as the deadly pale she-wolf in black appeared in one of the corridors. They stood frozen, hesitant to speak.

"Who the hell are you?" At last she asked in a low voice.

"If you are to Texas, then a friend of your friend," Simon answered.

"Then you are my friend too," she said cheerfully. "Lappland." Introducing herself, she extended her hand in a masculine manner.

"Is that a name or a nickname?" He clarified.

"Both."

"Simon, then," He introduced himself in turn, and shook her hand.

The pale palm clenched iron grip on his fingers, somewhat stunned the guest. Such a grip was enough to break his arm, he thought. There was no crunch, however. The met she-wolf had no complaints for that.

"You know Texas is in danger, don't you?" He asked, looking her straight in the eye.

"Ah, that..." Lappland grinned cheerfully. "It just means that the past has gotten to her. As I told her" The tone of her voice was getting lower, more and more nervous, and there was a sneer in it.

"Are you going to do something?" He said in a businesslike tone, ignoring her velvet voice.

"Yes. Exterminate anyone who threatens my sweetheart. That's it. What did you expect?" Yeah, she didn't care about danger either. Neither did he.

"I'm gonna do the same thing. I even know who to look for…" Simon started, but her companion rushed toward him. He found himself in her tight grip. Pale palms tightly squeezed his shoulders, and the she-wolf's face was against his face.

"Do you know? Tell me," she hissed.

"Get your hands off me. I don't like when people do that," the guy replied with apparent calm and reached for her palms. Cautiously, tensely expecting an attack, he put his own on them.

She remained silent and didn't remove her hands.

"Do you doubt me?"

"You're a creepy and shady." He'd hit the spot, Lappland confirmed it. "You show up out of nowhere, you hook up with my sweetheart, and now you're looking for someone else. So, yeah, I doubt you."

"Well," Simon thought, preparing to open his cards. "I have all kinds of work experience. A thief, a killer, a fighter in the ring, a mercenary. I've tried and mastered it all. Am I fit enough?"

"Let's say you are." She finally pulled away from him. "But Texas is mine. And if you want to get close to her by killing somebody, forget it. I'll do it myself. And she'll be all mine."

"They're trying to kill her, and you're talking about matters of the heart?" The guy sighed heavily. It's gonna be harder than I'd like it to be. "You better keep your friend safe. They'll be back for her."

"Why should I be the guard dog?" The lupo snapped. "It's too low a role for someone as amazing as me. You're better suited for it. Be a friend, tell me about the tar..." She started politely, but was immediately interrupted.

"She told me everything, and I'm going to handle it. That's just the way it is, get over it and don't give me any trouble."

"Texas and I have a deeper connection than you realize," the she-wolf suddenly changed the subject. "I've always been there for her. I have to be there for her now. Otherwise something very, very bad could happen. Not just to you."

"That's it, I've had enough of this," the guy snorted, and dropped her hands from his shoulders "Out of my way, Lappland, I'm going to save your friend, if you haven't realized yet."

"If you kill Lebedev, you'll get closer to Texas than allowed!" Suddenly she shrieked and clutched at his robe.

Yes. This thought had also occurred to him. By solving the problem, he could become something more than a good acquaintance to her. Perhaps they could even shorten the distance by taking the phone out of the equation of their relationship. But he didn't benefit from unnecessary connections that could put him at risk, right?

"Allowed? Allowed by whom?" The blond inquired, not preventing her arms from dropping again.

"By me," Lappland said iron-cladly, clenching her fingers even tighter on the hem of her robe.

"Are you jealous?" It came out of his mouth suddenly, carried outward by a rush of curiosity and a desire to tease his companion.

"Maybe I am." Just as suddenly the she-wolf did not deny it, bowing her head.

"So you're one of them? Ugh, man," Simon grimaced and with a slap of his palm threw off her hands for the second time. "What are you afraid of, then? The main problem with us being together is not you, but what's between my legs. Even if Texas is okay with it, I don't see her as a couple. Certainly not with you," he snorted, stepping farther away from her.

"You don't understand," She shook her head. "I know better than you do what's best for her. For we are a pack. Between us, we have a bond."She emphasized this by putting her tail in a air and spreading her arms. "Long, strong, no matter how much she runs from me. Stronger than you two. You're an outsider in the pack," she summed it up curtly.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah," the annoyed Simon accompanied the sneer with a palm parodying the conversation. "Packs, connections, for better or worse! I'd rather listen to my conscience in this matter than to some backyard dogs who bicker and waste my time." He did not hold back any longer, even though he felt the danger coming from her. It was time to call it a day.

"Your conscience feeds your indifference. It will ruin you, Simon." Lappland stretched some of the words into a growl, then strode into the ward.

"Just stay close to Texas, she's better off with support from her loved ones," the guy shouted after her. "Leave the killing and the dirty work to me."

The she-wolf just glared at him with her gray eyes and slammed the door. The bear shrugged his shoulders. "Is she really one of those?" He grimaced in his mind. Then he's definitely not interested in a brunette.. Neither as an object of sharing, nor as a girl. A death-like dog would definitely cause a lot of problems.

"Well? How did you divide Lebedev?" A hoarse and as ironic as ever voice sounded sharply.

"It would have been better if she got everything, really." The guy grinned, rolling his eyes. "I'm tired of her, even though I just met her."

The yellow-eyed shadow caught him in the main hallway, a welcome escape after the maze of white corridors leading nowhere. The whole world was somehow blurred, strange, indistinct. He could barely read the inscription "Crematorium" on one of the doors at the far end of the room.

"Life is more complicated than any sort of fights. That... White, she's your enemy. Well, basically. And you can't break her fucking face a second time. She ain't earned it yet." He was brought back to reality by a snide wolf.

"Yeah. She wants the same thing I want." The blond nodded and listened to the new whispers, pressing his lips together in concentration.

There were a lot of voices, and they were all saying something. He was able to make out what all the talk was about. Or rather, he could guess. Dust, succumbing to the power of his imagination, flashed for a moment with the black, deadening light of originium, making him twitch.

"Reunion. This was where Talulah's men had once covered their tracks. Disposing of bodies," Simon guessed. The words stretched out, flying through the air like fat black flies, buzzing lazily and vibrating the air.

The wolf glanced at him, but only shrugged his shoulders. Whether it was his new friend who had driven the lad into lyricism, or whether he was just having trouble with his head. Considering who and what had brought him to the hospital, the latter was more likely. Makar gently led the silent man toward the large glass doors.

"This isn't revenge or someone else's squabble, Simon," he continued the conversation. "Life is more complicated than this, Texas won't disappear after the end of the mess. Why are you like a little kid? You thought you'd kill the main asshole, and that's it, finito a la comedy?"

"Isn't it?" His interlocutor raised an eyebrow. "What prevents me from deleting her number after Lebedev's death?"

"Just because you don't fucking live in a vacuum!" Makar growled. "White, of course, she's weird, but she's right. This cocksucker is an opportunity to change everything. Both you and the black one. And you're not happy about it."

"I'm sorry, dad," Simon grinned bitterly. "But I'm only can become a hermit. Not with my cheerfulness and ability to be the soul of the company."

"Well, then happy lonely and crazy life to you, Simon Rusakov!" Garked the wolf and gave him a painful slap.

Again he was being pestered, demanding something. What was wrong with just doing his job and leaving? He'd been doing it for years. Simon scratched the wheat-colored top of his head.

"Okay. What do you want?"

"That you don't take revenge," his foster father's hand rested on his shoulder. "But you need to outrun the white-haired one. I want Texax to have you, not her."

"Why?" The guy asked bluntly. "I'd be in people's business."

"Well, she's a dyke. It's a holy thing to kick her ass," Makarych said curtly, and then laughed loudly.

"All right, I'm convinced," Simon snorted. "A faggot is worse than a witness."

"And seriously," Makar showed this "seriously" with his face. "Why should I drag you to your grave? Why did I get fucked up and you're still suffering?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. Revenge is good when it's done," enunciated Simon.

"Yes, yes. But that's all in the past. Everyone has already been punished, Simon. You've already done everything you need to do."

"Lebedev is alive, so not everything," he remarked.

"I don't care. Anyway, just don't let Texas down. It's not manly to leave a fellow behind," Makarych summarized the conversation. Then he wiggled his ear, perked up, and squinted. "All right, kid, what are you going to do?"

"I'll make inquiries about the bastard." Simon grinned and walked into the fog.