At an unusual hour, Rock woke up like the felt a change in the balance of the world around him. He looked over his shoulder and found the bed empty while the door to the room stood wide open. Yamazaki always closed it when he left so either he had been busy, or he was still here. Rock hoped for the latter – only to get it confirmed when he heard the sound of the shower running. Strange time for a bath and the pipes weren't having it either.

This caused Rock to get up and just check what was happening. He checked the locks, finding them as he left them. It was dark outside so the lamps hadn't gone off either. Finally, he knocked on the bathroom door to no answer. Not after the second or the third. Skipping the fourth, Rock got irritated enough to try the door, only to get blinded by bright light. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust but when they did, he wasn't sure if he liked what he saw.

Inside the shower without the curtain pulled sat Yamazaki with his knees to his chest and a hauntingly hollow look on his face, cascaded by water. He was fully dressed by the way. Rock found himself transfixed by the sight momentarily before it hit him that something was very wrong. He stuck his arm through the stream of water and shut it off. Still no response from Yamazaki. Hell at this point, it was a wonder if he even knew he wasn't alone anymore.

"Hey," Rock crouched down in front of him. "Ryuji, what's wrong?"

Even on a first-name basis, no response. He just sat there with a face like a thundercloud. Determined to figure out what was going on, Rock snapped his fingers in front of the older man's face to pull him out of whatever trance he was in – only for his wrist to get caught in the blink of an eye. Yamazaki's grip was like a beartrap as it had been the times, he would have to pull Rock around after missions. But unlike then, he was shaking now.

"Leave me alone," he said in such a strangely calm way with eyes carrying a transparent gaze that make Rock flinch, almost triggering his acute stress response.

"What? Dude, you are not okay," he said in light of whatever the hell this was. It was the only conclusion he could draw.

"No," Yamazaki chuckled several pitches higher than normal and buried his face in his hands. "Leave."

"But-"

"Piss off, you stupid wolf bitch," his head bumped harshly against the tile and he let out a groaning exhale. "Fuck it."

Before anything could be asked further, he jumped to his feet and marched out of the bathroom with Rock scrambling to follow him. Within moments, he stood by the door and tried to rip the locks open. Tentatively, Rock came closer, not sure what he was even feeling at this point.

"Yamazaki-"

"Fuck off," the older man growled with such bite that Rock nearly went on the attack reactionarily. He stood in stunned silence as he watched Yamazaki fling the door open and slam it shut before his mind drew him to move. Forgoing a jacket, he frantically threw on a pair of shoes before heading outside. A trail led to the gate that was already closed by the time he made it there.

From the other side, he heard the sound of a car engine igniting and considered genuinely jumping over the gate. Instead, he hastily typed in the passcode and rushed out, only to see a vehicle trudging through the snow. With its speed, Rock could sprint to its side and knock on the window, catching the expression of the man sitting behind the wheel.

It was grim and hollow. Hostile, sad, and…all it amounted to was pain. And the ache was mirrored in Rock's heart as the car drove off into the night.

Three days.

It took three whole days before there was a change in the sudden routine. Rock found himself standing on the edge of misery, fighting to keep his mood from falling down the drain. But he struggled without Yamazaki, the sense of protection he brought along and what or why had happened which caused such a retreat in the middle of the night.

Despite the pleasantries around him, Rock felt overall just dour, and this cloud of discomfort and misery hung over everyone at the Kim residence. When it wasn't his vividly foul mood, it was the lingering memory of Freeman even as he had left them alone.

Myeng Swuk had been a little jittery since, even now while she served everyone breakfast with a smile like usual – only to scowl and scold her children when they began to cause trouble at the table. And as usual, Kim would howl with laughter at his sons' early morning spunk but there was a hint of neurotic alertness that wasn't there before.

Despite everything, it was wholesome – as it was alienating. Perhaps it was because of Rock's place in this world being ripped from him, then exploited, then mended, only to have it thrown onto thin ice again. At times, it felt as if he wasn't meant to be here at all which made him feel like an interloper. Even if he couldn't help but smile at the kids' antics or Kim's fatherly spirit extending to him or Myeng Swuk having conversations with him about egg custards and casseroles.

And then came that change.

The landline began to ring. Like nothing was amiss, Kim rose from the table and picked up the receiver. "Kaphwan Kim speaking."

Amusing that he used the Western order of his name when addressing strangers.

After a few moments, his expression stiffened a bit and he pulled the phone from his ear, looking over at Rock. "A man wants to speak with you. Something about an extended warranty on a motorcycle and money from a sale?"

A shiver ran down Rock's back. He swallowed the anxiety and stood up, taking the receiver, and putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, sir. Sorry to disturb your breakfast," a man's voice spoke, low-pitched and apathetic. One that sounded very familiar. Suppose Rok should feel a little better as he couldn't pinpoint it to any of Kain's goons unless…

More importantly, breakfast? How did this guy know? Sure, it was morning but…

"…No, it's fine. But the money…wasn't it taken by the guy who sold it?"

"Yes, but the name on the insurance papers didn't match. Which brings me to assume you're Rock Howard. Please do tell me where you are so we can settle this matter," the man said so placidly, that it caused alarm bells to ring inside Rock's mind for reasons he couldn't articulate.

"I can come to your office?"

The man hummed a bit. "I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. Due to the errors, our company would like to make sure that the payout goes to the right person."

"You could just send a check to the post office. Would spare you the hassle," Rock replied.

"But I'd like to know where you are right now."

Alarm bells become full-on sirens, warning of men with long red hair.

"…Who are you?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me where you are. I really want to know. No, I have to know. Tell me. Or I'll just find out myself."

Terror crept up Rock's spine as the realization struck him. And then came a slither of white-hot anger that made him forget all about the two kids nearby. "Cut the bullshit, asshole. I'm hanging up."

"Don't," Freeman growled. "Unless you want me to make artwork of the two children eating breakfast with you right now. Do you want to see the hue of red that is their blood?"

Rock whirled around and stared out the window to the courtyard, seeing nothing but snow and an unfamiliar car drive through the gate now. The lack of alarm of Kim and his family was hopefully a good thing. A man stepped out, one Rock had not seen before, and it caused a chill to rush through his entire body.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice trembling. He caught glimpses of bodies moving in the corner of his eyes. The man who had arrived came closer with a strange device, talking in hushed whispers with Kim.

A musing hum came from down the line. "It would appear that you have a guest. I wonder if it's a substitute for your boyfriend. A bully of a man, he is. I can't wait to hear his screams when he finds your corpse. I hope he's as strong as he looks before I kill him too."

"Yeah, right. I'm not scared of you. If you wanna fight, let's fucking fight. I'll kick your ass to the surface of the sun," Rock sneered, watching the stranger plug in wires to the landline's base. Meanwhile, Myeng Swuk ushered her children to their rooms. The robotic chuckle that came from Freeman fed the urge to meet the man in a parking lot so they could fight it out. Or maybe that was what he wanted.

"Why don't you give me names first…for a warmup?"

"Sir Go Fuck Yourself and Lord Eat Shit."

"Manners, boy. I'd recommend you not call my bluff. Death is a serious matter."

The words came out of Rock's mouth before he had thought them through. "Geese Howard. Kain Heinlein. Abel Cameron. How about that?"

He ignored the look he got from Kim.

"How about people you love?"

"Shut the fuck up. You got your names. Take 'em or leave 'em."

"…So no Joe Higashi, Kapwhan Kim or…what was it, Yamazaki? Well, I'll add them to my list anyway."

Panic took a ruthless hold on Rock, sending heat up his neck to unbearable levels. His hands shook violently, his stomach constricted. He felt an executioner sentencing innocents to the gallows. He swallowed hard to control his erratic breathing, closing his eyes just to think for a moment. Of course, he just couldn't stop his head from buzzing like flies near a fluorescent lamp.

"…I swear to god, if you touch a hair on their heads, I will fucking kill you," he warned, delayed but with a note of ice-cold ferocity. In the moment he had uttered that, he felt almost calm. "Give me a place and a time. I'll meet you there and beat you dead."

Not the best movie, he reckoned. That was not the way to face this either, a realization that caused his insides to crawl with fear and fury. But he had sealed his fate. Fuck it, he thought. Do or die. The silence on the other end punctuated the inevitability, and so did the musing hum that followed.

"Why not," Freeman said. "The snow will be a perfect canvas to your blood. Don't forget to check the mail."

At this point, Rock was beyond processing any more of this. He breathed out through his nose like a bull and mustered up one final vestige of courage.

"Fuck you!" he spat and slammed the receiver into the wall. The terror rolled off him in waves while his insides untied themselves from the knot, they found themselves in. But his nerves were in tethers to the point where Kim clearing his throat nearly made him jump.

"So, this is Hon-Fu. He's a friend of mine. And a police detective," Kim gestured at the man with the strange device.

And all Rock could really utter was a dismissive; "Uh-huh."

It didn't deter Hon-Fu however as his lips pulled up to a nervous smile. "Hi! Sorry, I guess you're not in the headspace for much chitchat so I'll keep it brief. I've been taping the phone call for you see, the man you talked to is a notorious serial killer who goes by the name-"

"Freeman. Yeah, I got his fan mail."

"Yes. He's a person of interest, wanted for his involvement with tens of murders and missing persons."

"Tens?!" Kim exclaimed and Hon-Fu nearly stumbled over himself, rubbing his neck nervously. "A-about ninety-three to be precise. He's been active for almost a decade, going from country to country to kill. He's a slippery one without a preferred method for murder or a type of victim which is why it's so hard to catch him."

Great. That was just great. Fate was a sadistic bitch who made Rock swim out of the balls of one criminal, then dragged into the abusive maw of another, until he was saved by a third only to get targeted and most likely murdered by a fourth. What the hell?

"He changed his MO though. Usually, he makes himself known when his targets are alone, fights them, and kills them in whichever way he feels like. I've never seen him be this engaged with one," Hon-Fu added. He took his device and put it on the dinner table, in the middle of half-eaten plates, counting something using his fingers until he exclaimed, a couple shades paler; "With the names he got and the ones he already has on his list, that would mean that Rock is going to be kill number hundred. I'm guessing he wants to make it grand."

"Gee, don't I feel special," Rock groaned. He looked at his breakfast and found his appetite completely absent now, so he settled to clear the table with a sense of guilt weighing down on him for ruining this morning.

"Hon, answer me this. Will justice prevail against this evil?!" Kim put a firm hand on Hon-Fu's shoulder, ignorant of the way the man squirmed with discomfort.

"I-I'll do my best. We'll have to wait until that location comes. I'll get some police detail to patrol the area here and…for good measure, I'll get someone to drive Rock to work."

Rock huffed, heading for the door. "That won't be needed."

He went outside and began trudging through the snow. In hindsight, it would probably be foolish, but he couldn't bear the weight of everything today. He just needed some space to think and slip in some training once he got back. He wished he had a phone and could remember the numbers of Joe and…well Yamazaki to warn them of the danger heading their way. He thought of paying the former a visit but wouldn't that just paint a target on his back?

And then there was Yamazaki.

He was an asshole, he really was. But still, Rock couldn't help caring about him a little…well, very, very much. Quite a lot. He thought of cooking together and how nice it was. He thought of dark rooms and bodies pressed together. He thought of fading nightmares and shame slowly being uncovered. Of haunting dreams and sordid memories.

Of his own corpse being found in the snow.

Just to be safe, Rock took another route to work, through woods and small passageways. The trees stood naked, revealing everything for miles, including that godforsaken tower. The snow had a tendency to mute everything sans a man's own thoughts. Hence why Rock's mind was so active today, aided by the crisp winter air.

It still stung to think of Yamazaki, he realized upon seeing the familiar building of Crawley's auto shop. Hopefully, this would be a much more effective distraction.

"You continue to look like trash," was the first thing that came out of John's mouth once Rock entered the garage. Funny because they never talked about the day-to-day mood of the other – unless John felt particularly sour about his ex-wife or alimony.

Rock rolled his shoulders into a shrug as he tossed his jacket over a nearby coat hanger. "It's been rough for a few days. Literally started so well because somebody I…used to know came back and it made me feel better regarding the stalking."

John had been particularly indifferent to the revelation of Freeman's antics. Mostly because he had been left alone – although he did begin talking about what side of a crow's foot wrench worked best as a weapon.

"Someone? A girl?" he sneered. "Don't get married then."

"Uh, no. It's not like that," Rock shook his head, a flush creeping down his neck. "He's…it's complicated. Cliché, I know. But he's being a fucking asshole who just flipped out on me randomly and now he fucked off to God knows where."

John nodded, brows quirking upwards behind his shades. "…Complicated indeed. Anyway, some rich guy came with his Cadillac. I'll let you take care of it while I go file taxes. Business has been booming since you came around."

Rock nodded and prepared to work. He headed for the workbench with all the tools neatly organized because he couldn't handle working in any other environment. He turned around and headed for the vehicles in the garage, spotting something further in the back that wasn't there before. A motorcycle.

"You can have it," Crawley said from his office, which was little more than a desk and an old computer with stacks of paper next to it. "I prefer jeeps. I only got that one because the previous owner dumped it the other day and never came back."

Trying not to smile like a goof, Rock chewed the inside of his cheek. "Thank you."

There was another change once he got back home. The Kim residence was swarming with cops patrolling the area, both inside and outside the gate, scaring poor Chang and Choi. Rock paid little attention to it and headed straight for the guesthouse, shocked to find the door unlocked.

He let out a shuddering breath and flung it up, expecting to see an officer inside. It took him a second to realize it was Yamazaki standing there instead, leaning against the wall but out of sight from the windows. He looked at Rock without a word and pointed at the table where a package lay.

"Could you at least talk to me and stop being such a prick? What happened? Why did you leave? Where've you been? I was trying to help you," Rock said, surprisingly calm even if all he wanted was to punch and hug the man simultaneously. The balance tipped to the former when he just shrugged. His expression wasn't as grim as it was that morning, but he still looked…off. Rattled by something.

Momentarily Rock took it all in, and then his emotions, all he had been battling with and bottling up, came pouring out like lava. "God dammit. You're just like…fucking everyone just shuts me out and tells me nothing and then they leave. Why do they get to fly away while I just sit here and get abandoned? Why can't I fly with them? What the fuck? Why do you all hate me so much?"

His heart twisted and turned all over again, and his eyes began to sting. Only then did Yamazaki open his stupid mouth.

"Some things aren't talkable. Shit, I can't…you do weird things to me, kid."

He sounded all around exhausted, but Rock wasn't having any of it. "Do not pin whatever your goddamn problem is on me."

"Yeah, well fuck you, ya little squirt! That's how it is," Yamazaki bristled, that tiny ounce of vulnerability and humanity cast away behind a wall of pejoratives and hostility. "It's because of you, my mind and my MO are all screwed up."

"Fuck you, asshole! You didn't have to save me. Or stick around."

"You asked me to."

"After you stored me in your murder hut!"

"Which you could have left at any time, Rock!"

"Only to die in the wilderness because it was in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. And you can scram yourself if I'm such a nuisance, Ryuji!"

"Unfortunately, I can't."

"Cry me an ocean. Why?"

And it was here where that familiar humanity poked through the shell of a cool, calculated gangster. "Those non-talkable things…"

"Use your adult words."

"Ambrosia," that hostile shield of Yamazaki's popped right up yet again. "Are you fuckin' happy now? Why are you being such a fuckin' jerk about it?"

"Why not? I get screwed over on a daily basis so excuse me for feeling entitled to be an ass for once before I get gutted like a fish," Rock sneered, the desolation hitting him like a tidal wave again.

"…The fuck are you on about?" Yamazaki narrowed his eyes – until it actually hit him what was being implied. "Don't tell me, that freak tried to mess with you."

"…I challenged him to a fight. You're on his shit list by the way."

Whatever they had been arguing about faded into the ether. It all felt so hopeless and nihilistic and empty and sad and what the fuck else. Like a reminder of what a waste it all was when Rock could be dead soon. All the thoughts that eroded him during his stay with Kain came sneaking back and he nearly folded in on himself. The itch to self-harm came back like a phantom with a vengeance, enticing him to go further. Go beyond scratches.

He grabbed his wrist, feeling so destabilized, that he wanted to lie down and forget he existed.

"You know that thing you tried to ask of me…what was it?" Yamazaki asked, closing the gap between them until Rock could stare directly at his chest.

The younger man shrugged. "…I forgot. Not that it matters."

"Just like that, ready to throw in the towel, huh? You don't think I'll kick the guy's face in and cut out his tongue before he puts a hand on you? I know I'm a dick and I do bad shit but I'm not loving the idea of you being skinned alive," Yamazaki suggested with a sneer. It was just typical white noise threats and incredibly important that it came from him all at once. The ghost of self-harming was soon replaced by a need for comfort, to just lunge at him and get buried in his body. It wasn't with warmth that the next words came from his mouth. He wasn't really capable of being warm in the traditional sense but…"What was it that you wanted to ask of me, wolfy?"

It was a bad thing that Rock remembered it clearly. It was even worse than the shame and guilt from…everything that came throttling and almost made him shake his head in defiance. Oddly, his body stood frozen against his impulses to the point where only his mouth moved before his mind did.

"…Can I kiss you? Just, you know, before I'm murdered..."

"Holy shit, just like that, huh?" Yamazaki's voice dropped to a whisper, losing some of that usual luster.

But he didn't move.

Gently, Rock let his hands cup his face and watched how the wall of everything slowly began to crumble in his eyes to reveal bits of panic, desperation, confusion, all seeping through his every defense. And then, in the middle of it all, something else. Carelessness. He reached for Rock's collar and yanked the young man closer until their bodies stood pressed together. But he didn't touch any more than that and it was what prevented Rock from trembling.

The ball was in his court now, so he made the next move, leaning into Yamazaki until he could take what he wanted, take in all the sensations, and take in the realization that this was okay. It was okay to want this. It wouldn't hurt. This was but a test, which had gone well, Rock concluded upon stepping back – only to get pulled into another kiss. And another. More intense, more thorough, more open-mouthed as an arm had wrapped around his waist and pressed their bodies together and he thoughtlessly clawed at Yamazaki's shirt.

Until they were both breathless.

Yamazaki, for his hard outer shell with the emotional cadence of a feral dog with rabies, melted against Rock and the contact was enough to ground him to the point where he could almost cry.

"So what's with all the fuckin' cops? I had to stage a hoax to get them outta here so I could sneak in," Yamazaki said, letting Rock nuzzle against his shoulder and just remain there.

"Freeman called today. Hence the challenge and the threat of death."

There was a groan from the older man as he put one hand on Rock's shoulders, then his upper back, and just a few inches down. It was nice. Comforting. Almost enough to erase the memory of crazed serial killers and in that moment, Rock loved him so goddamn much. He wished he wasn't so fucked up in the head so he could just surrender his body fully and be okay with it. For now, while they were standing here, all sense of time just vanished, and he'd take that instead.

"…You're not used at all to interpersonal relationships, are you?" he asked a little cheekily.

"No, Doctor Howard and I doubt you are. Hand holding at school behind the bike shed doesn't count," Yamazaki broke the embrace with a malicious snicker. But it was with a hint of lighthearted playfulness. He snatched the package from the table and opened it, revealing a phone inside. "Figured you'd need one."

"Thanks. You didn't have to."

"Given the shit over our heads, I think I did," Yamazaki aptly pointed out and Rock kissed him briefly for his considerations.

"Visited your mom lately?" he asked.

"No, I haven't. I mean I've been trying to fix a bike for it to happen but…" Rock admitted, mindlessly tapping on the screen of the device.

"Wanna go? Right now?"

"Yeah. Why not. I might have to give her something other than flowers due to the weather," Rock looked at him, stopping himself from saying please. "Don't leave me like that. You know, earlier. Okay? You don't have to, you know, narrate your autobiography but I'm here to just be a teddy bear of something. So don't abandon me."

Yamazaki nodded briefly. "Noted."

It was already dark out by the time they made it to the graveyard. Late afternoon, it was so the flower shop was closed. Instead, Rock had brought candles to light on the grave, one of those fancy ones with a lid so they wouldn't get screwed by the snow. At the parking lot, a couple of black cars with tinted windows stood parked.

Odd time for a funeral but Rock thought nothing of it, hopping out of the car like nothing was amiss. The coat that he had been given was a bit too cumbersome for him, but it was warm and comfy like an eternal hug. Yamazaki scoured the graveyard ahead of him and came back to block the gate.

"I don't think we should go there right now," he said with a strained expression on his face. "There're faces you don't want to see."

Rock swallowed. "Kain? Grant? White? Freeman?"

"No, who, fuck no, and I would have killed him on sight if yes but-"

"Then it's nothing," Rock maneuvered around him and entered. The graveyard had lanterns strewn about, illuminating the entire area, and circumventing the cliché spooky vibes you'd think a place like this would have when it was dark. The walkways and headstones had been cleared so moving about was easy enough. The cluster of people in black suits standing on the other hand was a difficult sight to process however. They all formed a barrier to the hill where Mother's grave was.

Rock looked up at Yamazaki, who shrugged. "I told you, kid. We should head back until they're done."

A bad feeling began to settle in Rock as he ignored the sound advice and closed in on the group of mysterious visitors. And then he saw it. Billy Kane with his red staff. So, if he was here, it would mean that-

Rock spotted him standing by Mother's grave and didn't think once before his body moved on its own, sprinting towards that bastard who dared to set foot here.