Okay, this one is a lil’ bit longer than my usual chapter shorts, but I was on a writing roll, and I had to get to a good stopping point. *sighs* I LOVE MUSIC! WAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! *had decided to site some favorite song at the beginning of every chapter, just to annoy the hell out of people who hate it when other people do that* I’m not suggesting you listen to the song while you read the chapter, because usually the two have very little to do with each other. I’m just trying to attune the world to better forms of music and all of that *blabbers for a while* “Gravity of Love” by Enigma is definitely the song of the day. *swoons* SO beautiful! So entrancing. *whirls in a dizzying circle until she looses consciousness*

Before Ken and Omi had made more than a handful of steps through the tenebrous tunnels beneath the Meleeke main building it became obvious that this was going to deteriorate into yet another messy, endless confrontation. The fact that they were using the sounds of violence and the occasional gunshot to locate their teammates was never a great sign as far as ones continued personal health went.

At one point the fighting had managed to sprawl up and down the battered corridors, evident in the less than artful arrangement of corpses trailing behind and beyond their chosen path. None of them were either Fate, Youji or Aya; they checked as they hurried on.

“How many people were they up against?” Incredulous, Ken stepped over the bodies literally choking up the fairly wide-spaced hallways. “This is almost equaling the scale of the massacre down in the sewers.”

Here and there the walls were spackled with trails of bullet holes, the outline of someone fleeing for their life. The fight was getting closer, the sounds sharper, lacking the muffled quality of before.

Someone stumbled into Omi, dark eyes and bared teeth glinting in the barely useful lighting, a body posed to attack the obstruction in its path. Snarling, Ken drove steel claws through the hateful, dazed face. He couldn‘t quite summon up enough alacrity to go through this willingly. Youji was damned lucky to have such good friends, people willing to even come back down to save his behind, no matter how foolhardy an action it had been to come down here on his own.

The hallway ended up ahead, their only option a wide doorway to their left. The echoes of anger and hurt drew them forward, into a featureless conference hall of sorts, more bodies fallen to the ground like moths around a light come morning, battered to death by their own headlong rushes. A tight knot of human figures on the far side of the room, and two people Ken and Omi desperately sought.

They were backed into a tight corner, Youji and Aya. Youji was obviously down for the count, slumped against the wall, loose limbed but still gripping a battered piece of piping in his functional hand, a weapon of sorts. Aya was nearing the point of exhaustion Youji had already reached and surpassed, standing wearily defiant guard over Youji’s prone form. He’d fight to both their deaths if that’s what it took, but he wouldn‘t let them take Youji again.

“Let’s get to it.” Ken sped forward into the seething horde hovering and waiting for a chance to slip past Aya’s sword, none of them quite daring enough to swamp him as a united group. He tore his claw blades into flesh, every jolt thrumming up to his elbow, making him think of his knuckles connecting with Aya’s jaw, making him remember Youji across the room, unmoving and worn down. They’d all beat the odds before; they had to try again. Looking at how many men Aya and Youji had managed to down already, Ken was reassured that fate and luck were both on their side.

Omi kept his distance, speeding metal bolts through heads and chests, unnoticed as of yet by the blood crazed inhuman bunch they faced down. There was a feeling of unfocused rage coming from many of them, as if they weren’t sure who their enemies were anymore, but couldn’t keep the desperate need to maim locked away inside their empty skulls.

A deafening crack rang across the twilight-lit conference room. Omi looked down at the outside of his arm, a bright splash of red conquering the pale blue of his sleeve. Instinct had him rolling away from the next bullet before it even exited the chamber.

Dodging and weaving across the dangerously open space, Omi attempted to seek out the rival sniper, hardly daring to hope he was the only assassin being targeted. The opposing force was down to approximately forty men, easier to bring down due to their clouded states of mind. Evidently someone with a gun wasn’t happy at the way the odds were drawing so close.

The gun was still trained on Omi from its as yet undisclosed vantage point, taking out dangerously close chips of the flooring as he ran the perimeter. Vaguely tracing the trajectory he realized there was an upper layer to the ragged conference hall, a second story balcony circling the entirety of the room. No wonder the gunner’s range wasn’t troubled by Omi’s movement from one side of the room to another.

A slow shudder simultaneously took all the men on the lower level from snarling violence to apathetic ambling. Ken and Aya killed several more before they realized they weren’t being attacked anymore.

“HA!” A triumphant cry from above, sharp and feminine, followed by a body tumbled from over the balcony side. It fell limp and obviously dead to the concrete below. Moments later the fall of the corpse was followed by that of a more energetic form. Fate landed in a defensive crouch, a knife blade clenched between her teeth.

The only people still mentally capable of observing and caring watched her stand in one smooth motion, eyes darting around the room. “Okay, we go home now.” She announced once she’d taken the weapon from her mouth, stomping towards Youji. “These ones here just die off in days or so when they not get food.” She took in their disbelieving looks. “You not think I telling truth?” She shrugged. “You stay and kill them all. I prefer they starve and get no more fluids on my clothes and hair, okay?” She stood over Youji. “Well, we go here like you say to, you happy now?” Huffing in mock ire.

“It was your idea.” Youji protested , watching through eyes turned to mere slits from exhaustion as Aya and Ken took her up on the suggestion, bringing down the mindless shells one by one, unmoved by their defenseless states.

“They’d do the exact same thing to us if they could.” Ken defended himself as he wiped the blood from his weapon, one of the only five people left hale, hardy and still-breathing. “Just because they were wandering around without a single original, human thought in their heads right at that moment doesn’t mean they weren’t trying to kill Aya and Youji a few moments ago.” Omi’s disapproving frown made it clear he wasn’t moved by the explanation.

“Not kill, capture.” Fate corrected, kneeling next to Youji to assist in his efforts to right himself. Out of breath and dangerously pale faced, he transferred his weight to the wall. His head hung as he fought off the need to collapse and the possible embarrassment associated with such an action.

Aya turned the intense wariness away from Ko-Ishi’s deceased army and towards the people who knew and at one point trusted him. He wasn’t sure how things would progress from here, whether there were more men coming to kill them, whether he was still officially black listed by the rest of his teammates, if Youji the only person he could possibly count on for support was mentally together enough to follow the upcoming situation. Perhaps he didn’t have anyone but himself to count on this time. “Youji?” No way to find out but by asking. He’d barely gotten in a handful of words with Youji, hadn’t even seen him for days on end before this fight for their lives.

Youji looked his way, pushing away from his cement crutch, one hesitant step towards Aya his only move. “Are you all right? Were you hurt?”

Mute, Aya shook his head, surprised by the show of concern.

“Good,” Youji stated loudly, “you fucking asshole!” His cast swung towards Aya’s face without a single visibly telegraphed warning, catching Aya across the cheek, knocking him off balance. A second after impact, Youji’s broken hand was cradled against his chest as he breathed out furiously hissed profanities, face twisted with pain. Despite the extra difficulty heaped upon his long suffering person, Aya leaned closer to see the plaster cast, to try and discern some hidden bit of information beyond Youji’s facial expression.

“I’m glad.” Without making eye contact, Youji stumbled a step closer, one arm snaking out to pull them closer together. It was an uncomfortable hug with the bulk of Youji’s cast between their bodies, his face pressed against Aya’s temple, mouth a thin line against the bruised curve of Aya’s cheek. After an all too brief second they separated, Youji spinning a little too forcefully to head for the door out and away from the deathly horror all around them. Fate took large steps with her shorter legs to catch up. Left with no real idea how they’d find a way out on their own, the other three followed, Ken and Omi doing their damndest to shun Aya to within an inch of his life.

They caught up soon enough as Youji’s energy flagged, steps faltering and slowing enough that Aya finally shouldered his way past the silent twins of condemnation to drape Youji’s right arm over his shoulder, worried about the uncontrolled way his damaged shoulder sagged. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, I feel like the freshest, bounciest of spring days, a dryer sheet that hasn’t been used yet, a child in the insidious thrall of a benevolent ice cream man and his musical vehicle of frozen confectionary death, a bounding, leaping paragon of perfect health.” He seemed quite willing to go on that was for any number of minutes , so Aya cut him off, and rather sharply at that.

“I get the picture. Didn’t you get any pain killers while you were at the hospital?” Voices hushing as they recognized that they must be nearing the exit disguised as a broom closet.

Youji shrugged stiffly, eyes flickering momentarily shut with an unexpected twinge of pain. “If I did, I must have left without those blessed drugs. Can’t we get something from a pharmacy? Don’t we have people who can forge prescriptions and all of that? Something lovely and numbing would be quite welcome right now.” He resisted the urge to let his head flop against Aya’s support, breath coming with difficultly, making his head spin like the inside of a celebration.

“Okay.” Omi drew to a halt to issue a caveat of his own before they headed up the never ending staircase. “I know this is a moronic thing to say, but please do try to blend in at least a little bit, all right. It’s not going to be deserted up there any longer, unless the entire staff of this building is held in Ko-Ishi’s thrall as well and we just managed to kill them down to the very last one.”

“Despite being covered with blood and lacking what it takes to stand,-not to mention walk -on my own, I’ll keep that in mind.” Youji’s faint smile took the edge off the mordant offer to try.

“Stick together and hurry, okay? Is not going to be problem.” Fate added her two cents in and bounded up the stairs with an energy the rest alternately hated and envied.

“Whatever she’s been injecting into her arm, I really want some.” It was a slow and agonizing process to get up all those damned steps. Youji was reduced to nothing but a useless bundle of aches before they were halfway there, but stubbornness kept him on his feet. If Aya could play the martyr when it suited him, so could he. Aya’s own limp was more pronounced than he’d seen it for weeks, the walking wounded dragging one another up step after step. Youji wanted to cry and curl up on his side until everyone left him alone in peace.

“Just a little bit more.” Omi hovered, worried. “Can I help?”

“Shut up Omi.” Youji snapped without thinking, one hand trailing along the dirty wall for balance. They made it eventually, all paused at the top to catch their breath. “Let’s get going now, before my legs just give out all together. I’m tired.”

It took a moment for their intruding presences to be noticed in the busy, crowded hallways of the main Meleeke building. Suits and lab coats skittered helter-skelter every which way. It started with a dirty look and a few purposeful swerves to avoid passing through the same air Fate and her ragged bunch occupied.

“Excuse me, is there anything I can help you all with?” The neatly groomed, condescending man who followed them down the hallway received a blistering glare from Aya.

“Yes, I cannot find a trash can in this establishment.” Accent heavy to let him know she was a foreigner, Fate took care with her wording as she dug into her pants pocket and pulled out a wad of crumpled paper, placing it in the man’s unwittingly outstretched hand. “Thank you.” She nodded and continued walking. “I wish I had gum in my mouth as well.” She told Omi, looking over her shoulder.

The corner of Omi’s mouth twitched up, barely kept from laughter by the memory of all that had just transpired, by the dragging steps of Aya and Youji behind him. Gods, it was good to be above ground. It was even better to not have to worry about funeral arrangements and the like for any of his close friends. Assassins didn’t get funerals, but it was the thought that counted.

“I drive these two back, you take other vehicle.” Fate veered away from the group as they left through the same side door they’d entered the building through, unconcerned with the public viewing them. If Fate had her druthers, this whole problem would be resolved before any current spying could ruin their plans. If Ko-Ishi would stop hiding behind his men she could end it all in a matter of minutes.

Youji and Aya collapsed into the back seat, slumped against one another, a lopsided pile of burning muscles and sticky blood splatters. For once Aya didn’t protest the close contact in public, the undignified pose. That would require a damned sight more effort than he could currently muster. He relaxed a hair as the car pulled away from the curb and put the scene of disaster further into the distance.

“You all very lucky that no one put much mental effort into fight back there.” Fate announced from the front seat. “Ko-Ishi busy with something else, or all those have been harder to kill.”

“It was still YOUR idea to go there to begin with.” A weak protest from Youji as he raised one shaking hand to his face to rake the hair back from his eyes. Pale fingers caught his before he could lower them back to his side.

“You okay?” Quite tones meant to exclude their driver up in the front seat. Youji’s fingers twitched against meat of Aya’s palm, an unconscious action in the small muscles and tendons. Concerned, the touch moved upwards, first to one tan wrist and then to the hollow of Youji’s throat to find a less worrisome pulse. Erratic and far to quick for health, Youji’s blood beat visibly in the vein running up to his jaw.

Youji attempted a sickly, less-than-pained smile. “Too much caffeine on top of too much adrenaline.” As soon as they were home, he was going to down a bottle of aspirin and crawl under a blanket somewhere and just sleep. If he could. Strengthless as his body was, his eyes were wide open, burning and dry. He needed to hire someone to follow him around and remind him why it was he should give up coffee. He didn’t ever want to stop sleeping again.

After a moment, Youji pulled away from Aya, cast clunking against the car door as he tried first with the wrong hand, and then with the left to roll down the window. Aya watched in disapproving silence as Youji dug into his jacket pockets and located a box of cigarettes.

“So you smoke again now?”

For a moment it felt like a long lost look into his past, a disapproving voice trying to play parent and barely succeeding. “Yeah.” The same reply was given now as then. What could he really say? His light was gone. “Fate, you have that lighter still?” Ignoring Aya’s deadly looks of distain.

“As always.” She sounded pleased to be leading Youji down the path of wrong, taking both her eyes off the road and her hands off the wheel to find the lighter and then toss it into the back seat.

Leaning against the door to leak as much of the smoke out of the car and away from Aya as he could, Youji closed his eyes to listen to the trip hammer beat of his heart. Gods, he was dizzy, too much or too little blood going to his head. He hurt. He was shivering in the cold air streaming through the partially open window, indistinguishable from his previous shivering due to a caffeine overdose.

“Wait.” Fate stopped them from exiting the car as they pulled into their driveway. “Something wrong. Wait until others here.”

Youji stopped in the act of flicking his unfinished cigarette out of the window. Might as well enjoy a little nicotine while he could. “The house is still here. Point one for us.” He slumped back in the seat, figuring Aya wouldn’t live long enough to suffer from cancer with him as it stood. Let him suck down a little second-hand smoke. It was draining to exhibit actual concern, too awake and too wrung out to use any of the energy he’d been cursed with.

Their second car, the beat up throw away machine of the week, arrived a matter of minutes later. Fate motioned for the newcomers to remain in the vehicle until her say so. “Okay, we go take a look now.”

Youji could feel the same wrongness in the air that had tipped Fate off as they approached the door. It was too silent, no common outdoor sounds. Even the wind stood still, ceasing the sounds of nature around them. He let Ken and Omi take the lead, knowing he’d be of little use in a real fight if that’s what it came down to.

A dark, still-damp stripe ran down the center of the carpet, veering off to direct them towards the kitchen. “Fan out, I check kitchen, you get rest of house, could be diversion.” Fate whipped out her bullet-firing friend and rounded the corner into their kitchen, Aya and Youji making for the living room and downstairs den while Omi and Ken barreled up the stairs.

“The downstairs is clear.” Youji popped his head around the corner to look into the kitchen, trusting the lack of suspicious sounds from upstairs to mean that Ken and Omi hadn’t encountered any trouble of their own. The smell hit him a second later, the metallic tang of blood and the secret, damp rot smell of things best left inside someone’s body. “Oh fuck!” Eyes wide with horror, Youji froze in the doorway, taking in the carnage painting the cheerful white walls and counters.

Fate was less than impressed, just a little nauseous and a lot angry. She said something in another language, pointing at the foreign scrawl on the wall, all written in blood of course. She repeated it in Japanese a moment later. “Happy New Year, it says.”

“But New Year’s isn’t for months and months.” The first and only trivial note of importance he could bring his mind to compute beyond the horror. There was a bloody mask on the table, one of those rubbery Halloween costume bits, blood pooled beneath it in a congealed slick. It wasn’t until his hand came down on the empty, folded material that he realized the texture was wrong, skin instead of rubber, real skin cells and minute hairs and bits of eyelashes left on that poorly hewn piece of another human being. He wanted to gag, but a lifetime such as his had taken away that immediate reflex from years of similar experiences.

“What happened?” Omi asked behind him, sounding equally disgusted and confused. “Oh no!” He looked at the dead girl’s face as Youji lifted it out of its puddle of red.

“Is a warning. To me. You not understand, is from before.” Fate flatly turned and left, fists clenched at her sides.

“We only left a few hours ago, they do fast work.” Ken touched Omi’s shoulder, refusing to enter the room. “Do you know how impossible this will be to clean up?” The more practical side of his nature, rarely seen but useful nonetheless, surfaced as he realized the victim was no one they knew.

“Aya? This isn’t-?” A dreadful thought struck Youji. He might not recognize the female face, but if it were her, Aya’s sister…

“No.” A flat answer from beyond the room. “She was already dead. This is fresh blood.” The soft sound of footsteps on carpet as Aya went upstairs.

“Who’s going to talk to Fate?” Youji dropped the mess of flesh to the ground with little decorum, already ill from the feeling of it against his fingers. Using the clean part of his wrist he knocked the faucet up for immediate access to hot water. There was a bit of blood on the liquid dish soap pump by the sink, but he didn’t have to touch it to get some soap of his own so he left it as just one more delightful little morsel for the hapless fuck left with clean-up detail.. It wouldn’t be him; he knew that much. He only had one hand for the time being and he was damned tired of standing to begin with. There was no way in the world he was letting anyone talk him into crawling around on hands and knees with a sponge any time in the near future.

“Omi, you’re the only one she’s nice to. It should be you.” Ken kept a careful eye on his teammate at the sink, wary of another collapse after the events of the day.

“She likes Youji better.” A valid point. Omi arched one eyebrow at Ken, letting their differences slide for the moment.

“I have to talk to Aya.” Shaking the water off his hand and wiping it on a mostly clean portion of his pants, Youji brushed past the human blockage in the doorway. “Lotsa luck, eh kid?” He patted Omi on the head and headed down the hallway, careful to step beside rather than directly on the bits of human fluid that had managed to escape the kitchen.

He found Aya in the bathroom, door open as he rummaged under the sink for something or another.

“What are you looking for?”

Aya jumped slightly, banging the back of his head on the underneath of the counter. He spared a moment to speed a distracted frown Youji’s way before backing out with considerably more care. The rattle of pills on plastic answered Youji’s question after a moment.

“Is your leg that bad? I saw you limping.” Youji stood on the threshold, unsure if his presence was even desired. He still had to talk to Aya, but to be unwelcome after all he’d gone through would be heaping insult upon injury.

A slight snort of disdain. “For you.” As if the world should know by now that he were impervious to the effects of pain, and if he weren’t, then too long-suffering to ever opt out of the misery.

“Where the hell have you been?” Unable to wait for a more appropriate setting, Youji broke in with the most important question.

“Are you bleeding anywhere? Do you have any more broken bones?” Aya dug through the plastic bin they’d thrown their medical odds and ends into.

“No. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“I was just making sure you weren’t in any immediate danger.” He ran the tap and filled up a small paper cup. “Here.” Three orange pills rolled around his palm.

“You’re giving me over the counter crap? Why do I only get three? We’ve got to have something better than that.” Using the power of anger, he made that first step over the unspoken boundary to shoulder Aya away from the goods. “What about this? And this? Huh?” Randomly pulling out drug vials he remembered taking before.

“Without knowing how they’ll mix with all that caffeine and having nearly died from an overdose a few days ago, it would be in your best interest to stick with something fairly harmless.”

Feeling light-headed still, Youji jabbed a finger into the center of Aya’s chest, doing a fairly good job not swaying from side to side with the rocking motion of the world around him. “Who’s fault was that? Who‘s idea was it to attempt to drug me into compliance? Overdose me into going along with your psychopathic machinations.” Verbose indeed, coming from someone who wasn’t even sure how it was he was still upright after all this time.

The flash of guilt as Aya looked away from the accusation almost made Youji feel bad. Almost. Frowning, giving in to the bit of common sense despite being loathe to concede to the better judgment of others, he pried open Aya’s hand and dry swallowed the ibuprofen, snatching the cup a moment later to ease the tightness in his throat. “So, is now a good time to talk, or should I just wait until the next time you do something stupid?” Leaning one hip against the marbled counter he attempted to exude a cocky anger he didn’t feel. Defeated and disappointed.

“When you’re sitting down.” Aya urged him to abandon the bathroom for a better, more private locale.

“I don’t need to sit, I’m fine right here.” Just to be stubborn.

“Then maybe I’m the one who’d like to sit down.” There wasn’t anything behind the grudging admission, no embarrassment, not a hint of blame or anger at the statement of personal weakness. Hooded purple eyes focused on the tile beneath his boots.

Sighing, Youji peeled away from his stationary hip rest and followed Aya down the hall to their bedroom. He remained standing, unsure he could get started once he’d finally given up his legs again. Standing, he could partially ignore the solid ball of fire his shoulder had become, the relentless ache of his broken hand. The painkillers wouldn’t help something like this. Silence, as Aya eased his boots off, all but falling to the edge of the bed, one hand coming to rest of the old wound of his leg.

“This is the part where you should be talking Aya.” He lit another cigarette, still wearing coat and shoes, blood splattered clothing, “and fast.” He could afford to play it tough now, while he was still upright and clear in his mind what had to be said for forgiveness to take place. “This is your chance to convince me that I should allow you to stay instead of throwing you back out in the street myself. Ken and Omi would back me, you saw how willing they were to think the worst of you. Why shouldn’t they, after all the things you’ve done in the name of that dead girl of yours?” Forgetting for a moment the nick name had become reality, the comatose no longer sleeping.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time.”

“Oh! Tell me something I DON’T know, Captain Obvious.” Banging his shoulders back against the closed door as he forced out an angry laugh.

“Blame me all you want. I don’t have to sit here and act out this warped, moronic inquisition. It won’t change anything. We all do things that we regret, we all have lapses in judgment at times. Are you any different? Can you crucify me for a mistake I made? Did you attain perfection at some point while my back was turned?”

“So, what? You drugged me to the point you almost killed me and dragged me along to act out some stupid, pointless little drama with that fucking horrible man, and yet you want me to believe you never planned to trade me over for your sister? That’s not something to be commended for. That‘s just stupid. I’m not even sure I believe it myself, not sure I can pretend that you really didn’t mean me any harm.”

“I didn’t!” Aya stood upright with a shout, leg shaking but holding his weight for the time being. “I was out of my mind knowing I had to pick between the two most important things in my life and I knew what I had to do but I couldn’t bring myself to just do it.”

Youji turned his head, eyes closing as the corners of his mouth twisted down. “Well, you managed to do a fine in the end, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t you I was going to let go.” A whispered admission, guilt on his part but for what he could barely define to his own satisfaction.

“You say that now, once it’s all over. Why should I listen to anything you have to say? I may not remember much of it, but the census is in and you were the one everyone saw trying to make a trade off with Ko-Ishi.”

“I thought I could somehow will things to work out.” The few feet between them turned into miles as the vestiges of sorrow were forced from the open planes of Youji’s face, shutting Aya out in the only way he could. “I couldn’t begin to explain to you how I thought things were going to work out. There were too many things to think about.” He forced himself to talk, loathing every bit of truth passing between his lips, hated how pathetic and pleading every word sounded. He had to make Youji understand, or he’d have nothing left. It would be worse than if Youji had died by his heavy handed medicating, if Youji had been sliced to pieces or tortured to death below the Meleeke building because he hadn’t made it there in time to save him. “I regret my foolish handling of the situation, but I wouldn’t have allowed them to get their hands on you again.” He couldn’t even work out the right way to explain what he’d been feeling at the time. He didn’t feel anything for the most part, that was how he’d gotten by for years.

“Not to put any pressure on you, but so far what you have to say isn’t cutting it.” Emotions firmly under control once again, Youji didn’t even put up pretenses of interest. “If that’s all the excuse you have, then you can move yourself off to the spare bedroom while I go back downstairs to check on Fate. I can’t throw you out yet because we’ll need your help to end this.”

“I don’t know what you want to hear.” Spoken with bottomed-out desperation as Youji’s hand went for the door knob. “I can’t make things up like you can, I can’t pull words out of the air and make them fit, make them mean whatever the situation warrants. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I wasn’t trying to sell you out. I won’t lie and tell you the thought never crossed my mind. I’d had several days to think about it before he contacted me a second time with the offer, but I already knew I couldn’t do it, couldn’t give you up. I had to take you along, or Ko-Ishi wouldn’t have given me the chance I needed to grab Aya and run. If I’d tried to convince you to just willingly go towards a possible doom, you’d never have believed me. You don’t trust me that far, you’ve made it clear time and time again.” Forcing himself to keep talking as Youji’s hand retracted just a few inches. “Youji, you’ll have to tell me what it is you want to hear from me, what I have to say so that you’ll believe me.”

“You could have started out by saying ‘I’m sorry’. I’m a sinfully forgiving person for the most part if someone makes even the slightest pretense of contrition.”

“I’m sorry Youji. I won’t get down on my knees and beg you for forgiveness. I can only express so much sorrow about an action that seemed to be the right thing to do at the time. If that’s what you need from me, then this drawn out mistake between us is officially ended. I am sorry, Youji. I regret ever putting you in danger. I regret making you feel as if I’d betrayed you for any reason.”

“All right.” A slow nod. “I guess that will have to do for now.” He stepped forward as he pulled the door out behind him, eyes fixed on Aya. “I’m going down to talk to Fate, seeing as you don’t plan on leaving, and I’m at least still capable of walking.” Barely. “I’ll tell Omi and Ken to leave you be.” And then he too left Aya alone.

It only took him a second to realize he was making yet another mistake. “Youji, wait.” Throwing restraint to the winds and limping back out into the hall just in time to catch Youji turning around on the first step, knuckles white on the railing. Aya didn’t stop until he’d crowded Youji on the narrow strip of wood, one arm gripping the balustrade next to Youji’s hand, the other pressed against the small of Youji’s back beneath the thick material of his jacket. It was a wonder they didn’t fall over and kill themselves right then and there, two unsteady people trying to hug on a stair. “I’m sorry.” One more time for good measure. He couldn’t say more than that, it wasn’t in him to profess the emotions that gripped him, only to feel them in vain and despair of every making the world understand.

Youji’s mouth brushed his as he turned to lean back against the wall, left arm shaking from the weight of his body, and it just stuck there, slowly morphing into an open mouthed kiss. Aya pulled away, realizing his vision wasn’t blurred from proximity, but by moisture forming along his lower lids. He hid it as best he could, pressing his forehead to Youji’s, whispered apologies against skin.

It took a few minutes for the panic to wear off enough that Aya could unlock his muscles, let Youji take a step back. “You absolutely have to talk to Fate?” He still might give up on Aya and not come back.

“It would be wrong not to. She was pretty upset, whatever the hell that whole display meant. She’s helped us out more than we could have ever asked for, despite our mutual goals. And I’d like to think she and I are pretty friendly. She tried to help me rescue you back there, as half-assed an attempt as it turned out to be.”

A noncommittal grunt from Aya. “Okay.” He slid his foot back until he felt the edge of the next step with his heel, moving up onto the landing. He watched Youji wobble down the stairs, no where near as steady as he was trying to fool the world at large into believing.

Aya fell asleep, sprawled across the bed with his dirty clothing still on, before the door opened again. “Youji?”

“Sorry, you not that lucky yet.” Fate closed the door with the utmost of care. “You and I have to make talk now, all right?”

“All right?” Unsure what this would be about, if she’d been sent up to yell at him in Omi and Ken’s stead. Quite honestly, he was barely awake enough to care.

“You and Youji boy make peace, right? He not hate for betrayal and whatnot?” An unconcerned shrug. “You know Ko-Ishi not rest until he get Youji back.”

“Why?” Aya broke in.

“I not entirely sure myself. Ko-Ishi have very big ego. He not like people who go defying, no? Youji make a fool of him by holding out against torture, by running away and then making war on him. Ko-Ishi make example of Youji, suffer for audience. He not stop until you all dead and gone, until Youji a trophy head on his office wall, you know.”

“That’s why we’re going to kill him.”

“Only one way to kill Ko-Ishi. By dying.” She paused, as if to let the wisdom of the statement sink in.

Aya scowled, still waking up and in a hell of a lot of pain. “Are you going to make sense any time soon? Does this have something to do with the mess downstairs?”

“Bah! Mess is gone; dinner made in kitchen; all is good. Just a slice of past I not talk about with someone like you. A bit of mockery from Ko-Ishi, maybe you call it ‘inside joke‘. We talk about you, now. You devoted to things with your fierce personality, no? You devoted to Youji. He good boy, no? Ko-Ishi a threat to everyone here that matters to you. He not stop until he dead. He is… mystical being of sort, if that makes sense in this language to you. The only way to end him is to pour the energy of your own death into a killing blow. By you, I mean hypothetical, but not necessarily hypothetical you. You make good with Youji. You sort of person who follow through. I cannot do it, because he not kill me himself, because he know I know his secret. I know it always and try to find him and defeat him across ages.” Going into her old propaganda. “He not expect you to die for his end, he think he have you by balls with caring for Youji.”

“You want me to commit suicide to kill Ko-Ishi.” Completely serious.

“To kill Ko-Ishi for Youji. I cannot do it myself, he see it coming. He keep coming for Youji until end. We can make for big final confrontation, and he have to show up to make himself look good. I distract him, and you run for him, get him to shoot you, or to stab you, and you drive big shiny knife into his chest and will it all to end. You have strong will. You can do it. He die; your Youji safe. Your little blonde head boy and loud mouth Ken all right.” A compelling argument for complete insanity. Aya was desperate enough to bite.

“Is this something that really works? Or are you making things up just like earlier today when you lead Youji down into that ambush?”

“I know this for fact, is first thing I learn about him, that why he let you kill him first time, back in beginning of confrontations of sorts. You were unknown element and he worry you get life wound and you still strong enough to get beneath his guard and kill him. He make mistake like that and he maybe not come back, eh? I ask you now, in all serious: will you help me? Will you end the abomination that is that man. Will you keep them safe?”

Aya paused, looked down at the worn fabric of the bedspread beneath his awkwardly posed body. Fate met his eyes when he looked back up, not joking or laughing for once. She truly meant it, truly believed it would be the only way to end her nemesis. “It really will kill him? He won’t come back and kill everyone once I’m gone?”

“If you do it right.” A decisive nod.

“Where is Youji now?” He hadn’t come back as he’d said he would. It was dark outside, hours gone by.

“Others make him stay, and he pretend he not want to come back here. Ken give him “don’t be pussy and let Aya boy stomp all over you” speech if Youji not agree to stay and make like sociable.” Levity momentarily thrown in to push back the depression of the moment. “You make other two quite mad at you, maybe for long time. Youji not come back up and sleep anyway. He wired with coffee drugs and all that.”

“When?”

“As soon as we can, maybe tomorrow, maybe day after that. You not have to be strong until we get there. I pretty damned good at killing many and many.” As she’d proven numerous time. “Have to wait for his guard to go down again. It not be long, Ko-Ishi a cocky bastard. Because I not go to kill him tonight, he think I in shock from his message, from dead girl on walls. He not understand real people.”

Aya swallowed, thinking of a Youji better off without him, without Ko-Ishi dodging his every step, two downers removed from Youji‘s life in one go. “I’ll do it.”

Fate patted his knee. “You a good person. I tell him when you gone why you do it, and he know you good person, too.”

Either that or Youji would think him to be an idiot, wasting his life to gain revenge for the sister that didn’t matter nearly as much as Youji himself. Aya wasn’t so sure that supposed view wasn’t true as well.

“You think on it, make peace with world at large. When time come, you be ready to do it. I go back downstairs now, let Youji escape from room with other people. Don’t tell him now, he not understand like you and I. He not one to make sacrifices for others like that.”

He waited until she was gone to cover his eyes, stomach clenching at the implication of what he’d just volunteered to do. It shouldn’t matter, sacrificing himself for just one more idea. He didn’t want to leave Youji, didn’t want to take the momentary good will he’d earned and throw it away. No one wanted to become a bad memory after their death, someone to have nightmares and fits of hopeless rage about. Youji already had one dead lover to dwell on when up-to-date tragedies lacked the emotional inflections of the past.

“Hey, I thought you’d be asleep still.” Youji entered the darkening room, outlined briefly in the last of the sunset outside their window. Instead of bustling around lighting lamps and candles as he usually did, Youji dragged himself to the bedside and begin pulling off his shirt, fumbling one handed with the fastening of his pants until Aya reached around to assist him. “Gods, I wish I could take something a little stronger. I’ve got a killer headache.” He sighed in relief as he sagged back into the embrace of his pillow, reaching out to snag Aya’s sleeve after a moment. “Want to lie down with me?”

A stupid question if Aya had ever heard one. Of course he did. He could feel Youji’s heart against his ribcage as he fit their bodies together, mindful of their collective sore spots, a too quick beat that reminded him of the frantic drive to the hospital all those days ago, his arms tight around a dying, gasping Youji. He didn’t ask how Youji was feeling, that would have been another stupid question. It was plain in the tense line of his back, the way Youji’s fingers were a tight fist against the skin of Aya’s chest.

Youji jumped as a hand smoothed down his spine, coming back up in a gentle rub, soothing the stress-tight muscles. A few passes later he wriggled against Aya’s side, getting comfortable. “Mmm,” he breathed, making the fine hairs on that pale neck stand on end, “feels nice.” Slurred with impending sleepiness, too much activity the perfect anti-thesis for too much caffeine. Aya could only hope they’d both be healthy enough to open their eyes come the next morning. Assuming they managed to sleep at all.

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Oh no! *makes sarcastic jazz hands* What will happen? DAMN! I want to kill off one of the characters! I always kill the characters in my original stories. What’s been restraining me!??! *looks around the room for invisible spirits and the like* Damned invisible little people! *mumble mumble grumble* Let me know what you think! E-mail me! [email protected] or [email protected] Bwahahahahaha! Joy of the day? MOOD RINGS!! GODSDAMN I LOVE THOSE!!! *when she’s really cold, they turn olive green and match her nail polish to a T* *goes out to spend more money on them* Look! This one has stars in it! OO Ooooo!!!!