In my defense, I listened to explicit, sexually charged American rap the entire time I wrote this. Well, not really. Only during part of it. Pretend it was only during the parts that just aren’t very well written >_< *sighs* Egads, what does a person have to do to get their writers to invent good excuses for them? PSHAH!

In the backseat of the car taking them towards an imminent death, Youji curled his own gloved hand into Aya’s. Fate’s eyes watched them in the rearview mirror, forestalling any touching last sentiments. The pressure of Aya’s thumb against the back of his hand had to say it all. There was a glaring finality in the set of Aya’s mouth, despite the previous day’s reassurances that Aya had nothing stupid or suicidal on his mind. It scared him, the whole situation. Youji hated things spiraling out of his control, hated when the outcome of a situation no longer revolved around actions he was responsible for. Helplessness was pretty damned high on the list of things that wore Youji’s nerves thin.

“We almost there.” Fate’s update reminded him once again of how little time left he had to quell the nervous fluttering in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to run his one good hand down his side, verify all his weapons were in place, but that would mean letting go of Aya’s hand, and with the blank expression on Aya’s face that wouldn’t be a good idea.

Aya lifted his unspoken for hand to his mouth, the microphone on his coat sleeve picking up his inquiry. “Ken, Omi, are you both in place?” No need for secrecy, for foolish codenames. Their enemy knew their names, faces, and home. No reason to waste time camouflaging their actions. No one could tap into the private channel they communicated on, One Eye had assured them of that several times. When his life and reputation were on the line, One Eye suddenly had several of the best of everything, and he was willing to dish it out free of charge. One had to wonder how long he’d been holding back the real quality merchandise.

“Getting there. Communication blackout once we reach the upper levels. Don’t know how well sound travels through the vents.” Omi’s voice was the first to respond, and Fate nodded in the driver’s seat, agreeing with his statement. It was odd, to have a fifth person hooked into their internal communications, and it would be jarring to hear her harsh female tones in their ears as they began killing. Omi was going to be their first wave of back up, all one of him. He was the unlucky bastard who had to climb through the vents. He was the only one still small enough to do it besides Fate, and she was part of the main party. Ko-Ishi would be expecting her.

“Ready when you are. It’s fucking cold up here, so hurry it up. I’ll be listening.” Ken was going to be last on the scene. He waited on the rooftop, having crossed over from a neighboring building, one with less state of the art protection. It would be the work of a minute or so to break down the rooftop entrance and dash down the one flight of stairs that would separate Ken from the fight. It was the best they could do on such short notice.

Heart lurching into his throat with the motion of the vehicle, Youji submitted to the inevitable. “Ready when you are, boss man.” He released Aya’s hand and faced the car door on his side, arms twisted behind his back. The sensation of cord pressing against the thick material of his jacket, the restricted motion, it was almost enough to set him panicking. He forced bile down as Aya made the final adjustments, knowing it was a necessary step to fool their enemies.

“Don’t tug too hard, it’ll give as soon as you put some real pressure on it.” Aya waited until Fate exited the vehicle before leaning forward and pressing his lips just briefly to the back of Youji’s neck. “Be safe.”

“Aya?”

Fate opened the car door before Youji had time to crane his neck and say any of those utterly important last minute things. “Is show time, eh?” Her face split into a snarl and she grabbed Youji by his good shoulder, dragging him awkwardly to his feet. Aya swiftly slid out the same door, keeping a close eye on his sacrifice. They left the car on the side of the still busy road, blinker going a mile a minute, as if they were planning on being in and out in a heartbeat. All for show, unless Ko-Ishi and his men decided to just lie down and die for them this time around.

They were fully in character before they even reached the impressive front entrance, Fate playing the part of the leering tormenter, apparently unaware that Aya had arranged to betray her to Ko-Ishi, and Aya was silent and resigned as he lead a close friend to the slaughterhouse. Youji did his best to shake like a leaf, keeping a mixture of outrage and terror plastered across his face like a truer-than-life mask. It wasn’t too hard to do, all he had to do was actually think about where it was he was headed, and what had happened the last time this scenario was played out.

Two uniformed security guards waited for them before the chrome and glass monstrosities that lead into the building. Not the standard fare, the flabby, middle-aged paper-pushers. Youji thought they would be capable of quite a bit of ‘security’ if that’s what their job required, if by ‘security’ you meant ‘beating the shit out of any number of grown men’. Just a reminder from Ko-Ishi of all the muscle he had to spare when it came to their downfall. The two men held the doors open, a parody of graciousness. Youji couldn’t help but jump at the resounding thud of the two large doors swinging shut behind them.

As a unit, they paused, eyes adjusting to the low level lighting, the slight blue cast lent to everything by the auxiliary lights. The entire floor was deserted, no sounds or motions. Both Fate and Aya scrabbled for their guns when the previously motionless elevator doors shuddered open. A thorough check revealed the elevator for what it was, Ko-Ishi’s welcome wagon, programmed to take them right to the top, no doubt.

“Let’s go.” Fate motioned them through. “He want us take elevator instead of stairs, I not complain.” A clever update for their two hidden agents as to their whereabouts.

Youji stood between his two supposed captors, bad shoulder already aching from the strain of being twisted behind him, good shoulder aching from the awkwardness of fitting a cast behind his back. He waited and waited for the joke to unfold, for the elevator to jolt to a stop and then freefall all the way down to the basement, killing them all instantly. That’s what he would have done if he were Ko-Ishi. But he wasn’t, and thank the gods for that because the elevator continued to rise, the floor numbers counting down to their final moments.

Fate turned to both of them, and smiled. “Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure.” She ignored the surveillance camera so visibly located in the corner of the elevator, the most likely existent bugs to monitor their conversations. She squeezed Youji’s shoulder. “It’s unfortunate things had to go down this way.” A quick flicker of her eyes over her shoulder towards the camera, an indication that things would have to remain ambiguously stated. “I wish you the best of luck.” She reached a hand across Youji and forcibly shook Aya’s hand. “This departure will mark the end of our effort and our enmity towards he who awaits us. In effect, the end of the line.”

Youji’s eyes narrowed as the complete lack of butchered grammar along with the absence of her ever ubiquitous accent registered with him. It hadn’t crossed him mind in a long while that she might still be waiting for the perfect opportunity to fuck them over. He glared at her profile, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for mocking laughter as she pulled a gun and marched them out of the elevator and into Ko-Ishi’s grasp. If she had something along those lines planned, she didn’t act on it, eyes straight ahead, shoulders back, ready and waiting.

He looked at Aya, caught him staring in much the same fashion, hand hovering above the grip of one holstered gun. Youji caught his eyes and shook his head. If she had something planned, she wasn’t going to set it into motion in these close quarters. One bullet could kill them all if it was fired into the wrong part of the elevator mechanism, or into the wrong person for that matter. As the human body in the middle, Youji intended to postpone an altercation until they had at least reached more open grounds.

“Ping!” A pleasant little tone announced their arrival on the 43rd story. Aya kept one hand near his shoulder holster, and the other on Youji’s elbow, ready to pull him out of the way if shots were fired. The elevator closed behind them, cutting off the main source of lighting. When Ko-Ishi did ‘after hours’, he didn‘t mess around. Hallways ran off into blackness to either side of them, all the main lighting turned off. The only other option was the yellow glow coming from beneath the singularly unimpressive door that could only lead to Ko-Ishi’s office, directly before them.

Fate took the first step, and they followed. This would be Youji’s moment of truth, where he could finally stand up to his living nightmare. She swung the door open with a bravado that had to be all show. “Hello, old fool.” She took that first step inwards, and Youji could only thank her for doing what he was not brave enough to do, boldly confront the man they’d come to murder.

“You’ve brought me what I asked for?”

Even as he blinked, eyes overwhelmed by the faux brightness Ko-Ishi presence within a room always seemed to guarantee, Youji recognized the voice. His vision adapted quickly to the sudden rush of light, and he assessed their new situation much as he knew Aya and Fate would be doing.

Three solid walls, one behind, and one to either side, while Ko-Ishi’s back was too a stunning view of the city. Good to keep the fight towards their end of the room, then. Falling forty-some stories to his death after being thrown through a plated glass window just wasn’t how Youji wanted to cap off the evening. It was a large, luxurious room, as benefiting Ko-Ishi’s status, at least 20 meters wide, and 20 more meters deep. Aya had to raise his voice to be clearly heard when he replied to Ko-Ishi’s rhetorical question.

“Obviously. Do we have your guarantee still, that we remaining four will be spared any continuing harassment?”

“Would you like that in writing? As belittling as it is for me to acknowledge such insulting distrust, I have documents prepared if you’d like our arrangement on paper? Legal and binding.”

The documents would make for better toilet paper than they would a guarantee, Youji already knew that much. More stall tactics, a chance for Ko-Ishi to double check for any ambushes or surprise attacks on their part. The numbers he’d expect for a successful attempt wouldn’t be found anywhere. It took the sort of confident self-certainty that Weiss was best at to expect to fight him and win with their five man army. Ko-Ishi and his thirty heavily armed guards expected no trouble. Fate was right; Ko-Ishi was stupid with his own arrogance.

“I think we can skip the formalities. We just want to end this, and leave.” Aya grasped Youji’s elbow as if to push him towards Ko-Ishi’s desk, reaching for the gun tucked into the crook of Youji’s elbow, wedged against his cast.

“Remember,” Fate announced in a calm, conversational tone. “Ko-Ishi comes last, clear out the hired help first.”

And with that final caveat to both Youji and Aya, along with Ken and Omi who would doubtlessly be monitoring the conversation, the fight was on. Ko-Ishi had his own gun in hand before Fate even finished speaking, before Aya could even get in the first shot. Paranoia was a way of self-preservation for the immortal man.

Aya had done a superb job with his fake bonds; the moment Youji applied any real pressure, injured shoulder and all, the cord gave and his arms were free to fall forward, numb from being restricted so long. So much for planning ahead. He let himself be dragged backwards towards the relative shelter of the hallway, the few steps backwards nerve-racking as he waited for a bullet to explode through his head, or maybe his cast, just for an ironic bit of fun.

Shaking out his good hand, Youji scrabbled for a gun, firing a parting round as he and Aya finally ducked out into the momentary quiet of the hallway. He knew at least four of the bullets had hit their mark, even without a follow up look. That was one of the first things he’d learned , never stop to see where your bullet goes, just assume and keep on gunning. That rule had more to do with the law of motions: “A moving target is harder to hit” than with any sort of mind over matter new age voodoo. Right handed, Youji was a dead-eye. Forced to rely on his less perfected left hand he was still a ringer for most competent marksmen. He only hoped that minimal distinction wouldn’t be his undoing.

“Run. Now.” Fate hurled herself forward in the dark, and they reeled forward without question a split second before the outer wall of Ko-Ishi’s office split open and spit plaster and speeding bits of lead all over. They barreled forward, down one darkened corridor after another, waiting for a hail of gunfire to announce new opposition. When it became obvious they really weren’t being chased, a regroup was in order.

“Ken, Omi, still holding positions?” It would be horrible if their reserves had already rushed into a nonexistent fight, giving away their only edge.

“I watched the confrontation until bullets started flying. I’m a twist and turn away from the office, you say the word and I’m there.” So breathy and muted they could barely hear it, Omi once again came in first.

“Still waiting; still cold. Hurry it the fuck up.” Ken didn’t even sound phased by the life or death situation ahead.

“We’ll see how big a hurry you’re in once people are shooting at you, huh?” Youji muttered, knowing it would reach its intended target. “Where are we, right now? I saw the blue prints, but I didn’t realize the scale of the building.” He turned to Aya, trusting the anal retentive one to know their exact location.

“If we loop around behind the elevator column towards the center of the building, we can come at them from the opposite side, see what they’re up to before they know we’re coming.” Aya shook his head. “There should be more people. Something has to be wrong. There have got to be more than a handful of men with him. I don’t care how good they are at what they do, he can’t be that arrogant.”

“He is.” Fate shrugged. “He can’t die. Why does he need to be cautious? It’s not that painful a process to revive himself, he’s bragged about it to me on more occasions than I care to think back on.” She kept her voice low as they followed Aya, footsteps soundless on the carpet. “You’ll notice there are no security cameras on this floor. He doesn’t need to know what’s coming up, because if it’s not something he can easily conquer and destroy, he can play dead until it’s all over. That’s why he has the strong arms to work for him, to make up for what he lacks. They don’t know he can’t really die, or they wouldn’t risk their own lives even for the hefty paychecks.”

“What happened to your poor language skills. And that horrendous accent? Too busy to play the bumbling foreigner?” Aya didn’t look back as he continued to lead them at a breakneck pace, head low and shoulders braced for any sudden attack.

“It comes and goes.” Her teeth glinted silver as they passed a moonlit window.

“No more chatter.” Aya switched to rudimentary sign language, warning Youji and Fate that Ko-Ishi and his men were only a few turns away, and Aya would lead them to a safe distance for the purpose of eavesdropping. It sounded like a plan to Youji.

The silence at his back was beginning to give him the creeps. Every unguarded moment had him glancing over his shoulder, wondering if some hellish parody of Ko-Ishi would come capering out of the shadows to drag him off into the darkness before anyone could stop him. He kept checking, but nothing detached itself from the metered pools of darkness, capering or otherwise.

“Stop looking back, you’re starting to make me paranoid.” Fate jabbed Youji in the ribs, still a bitch despite her newly upgraded conversational skills. He wished he had the energy left to wonder about anything beyond how he might wind up dying tonight. “There’s nothing there. I’d hear it coming minutes before you could see it.”

Whirling around to glare, Aya jerked his hand up to his mouth, finger raised in the universal ‘shush’ gesture. She grinned back, all but fizzling with a youthful energy so woefully out of place. Perhaps the suddenly workable odds had cheered her up, or maybe she was just insane as they came Youji hoped it was a renewed confidence rather than the latter of the two options. Aya‘s right arm jerked up, hanging perpendicular to his body with his palm facing outwards to halt their motion. He made a few more rapid-fire gestures, telling Youji he was going to sneak ahead by himself and give the scene up ahead a quick assessment. Gritting his teeth against the urge to grab Aya and shake him until his teeth rattled, Youji let him go, sure a massive mistake was just about to be made. They were professionals, and they would deal with it.

The tired, hopeless glance Aya directed towards Youji before he disappeared around the corner made Youji’s stomach twist. He remembered the one sided argument of last night, the unmentioned urging on Fate’s part.

“What did you tell him he had to do tonight?” He brought his lips close to Fate’s ear, blurring the consonants, too caged up to wait until they were back on solid ground. “He’s still going to do it, isn’t he?”

“Not now, not alone. Don’t worry, because I DO have it under control. He’ll play the part he needs to play, without your interference, and we’ll all wind up how we need to be.” The ominous tone to her words was undermined by the grin she’d maintained for the past ten minutes now.

“You fucking bitch! Finally showing your true colors, huh? Aya, Youji, this is your signal to get the fuck out of there. You’re still by the elevator column, right? There should be an entrance to the stairwell right in front of you, just look for the sign. We’re fucking out of here.” Ken’s voice rang loud and furious in their ears, more static the louder he voice rose. Youji only hoped he was still on the roof where his shouting would be inaudible to those still inside the building. He’d forgotten that their conversations were being monitored, caught up in worry for Aya.

“Stand down, Ken.” In the silence following Ken’s outburst, a low, familiar tone filled the gap. “Stop jumping to conclusions.” Aya’s own voice was little more than a breath of air, carried along the wireless connections between them all by the saving grace of expensive sound equipment. He rounded the corner a bare second later, mouth a tight line.

It was disconcerting to watch Aya repeat his message, mouth close to his sleeve, words originating from two places at once, one set from his mouth, and the other from Youji’s earpiece, a microsecond of a delay between the two.

“Aya, whatever it is-”

“Is none of your business, Youji. I refuse to fight with you here of all places. Ken, Omi, hold your places, wait for the gunfire to start and then hit them with all you’ve got.”

“Aya.” He tried to jam every single word, thought and emotion into that one word: the roiling fear in his stomach, the obsessive need to hold onto Aya until neither of them were capable of motion, that empty hollow underneath his ribcage that felt like a caught sob, the fact that he wanted to weep for Aya’s tragic expression, and most of all those unwelcome three words* that kept trying to force their way past his clenched teeth into the air of the real world where they could never be taken back or laughed away.

He closed the distance, caught Aya’s shoulder with his good hand. Aya stared down for a moment more before lifting his line of sight to Youji’s face, eyes a hectic violet against his pale skin. Breathless and numb, Youji could only stare as Aya slowly shook his head and looked away again, Youji’s first real clue that things weren’t going to wind up the way he wanted them to.

“Youji, don’t.” He brushed Youji’s gloved hand off of his shoulder, staring beyond him into nothing. “They’re getting suspicious, and we have to get a move on now while they‘re still wondering where we are.” Coat sleeve close to his face, he filled them all in on the situation as if the last few minutes had simply ceased to exist in his memory. “Ko-Ishi is still looking in the direction we ran, and his back is to us. I overheard them arguing amongst themselves. Ko-Ishi still thinks we might have more men hiding somewhere, a force composed of all the people he’s ever pissed off in this city. We weren’t followed because his paranoia convinced him that we were attempting to lure his guards away from him to pick off at our convenience, and he refuses to fall for it. It hasn’t even occurred to him that we know our way around the building, even if only in theory. He‘s waiting for us to get lost and come sheepishly marching right back down that hallway and into his less than tender care.” Aya managed to sound incredulous, the mocking disbelief an odd contrast with his usual detached aloofness.

“No time like the present, then?” Fate pushed Youji forward. “Ken, you might want to be standing by the stairwell entrance, ready to kick the lock in. Omi, I‘d find a quiet room a few doors down from the action and pop on out of the vents if I were you. Ko-Ishi and his men have already shown an affinity for shooting up walls. It would be a horrible way to die, trapped inside the ventilation system as you bled to death.” Fate and Aya strode forward, leaving Youji with no choice but to comply if he wanted Aya alive and well when morning came.

Instincts kicked in as they rounded the final corner, virtually soundless on Ko-Ishi’s foolishly carpeted flooring. The otherwise engaged men were too tempting a target, invisible bulls-eyes painted on each flack-jacketed back. That’s why Youji shot at their heads instead. Sometimes the bigger targets weren’t the best option. Unfortunately, the muscle wasn’t as stupid as previously assumed, and it took less time than Youji would have liked for them to regroup and dart behind walls and filing cabinets.

“Where is Ko-Ishi? Keep an eye on him. Don’t waste this chance and let him get away!” Fate shouted over the roar of returning fire, back against white plaster as she waited for a new opening. Both sides quieted down, waiting for the opposition to take a fatal first step. Ko-Ishi’s men were greater in number and could afford a casualty here and there. Weiss couldn’t afford one, wouldn’t allow one.

The shouting started without any obvious source. A quick glimpse around the corner answered any questions they might have, and Youji left his cover before a reason not to could present itself. Ken had come out of hiding, hitting Ko-Ishi’s men once they’d turned their backs the other way. He was among them, too close to be within firing range, causing enough of a distraction that Fate, Aya, and Ken could close the distance. The ensuing fight was a letdown, and even more so once Omi introduced himself to the stupid few who actually attempted to flee the scene. They weren’t bad fighters, they just weren’t up to par with the five seasoned killers they found themselves facing.

Youji panted for breath, arm one dull ache. How many times did he have to whack someone with his cast before it finally sunk in that such an action caused just as much pain for himself as for the victim of his plaster hand. He took a quick glance around. Aya still stood, sword drawn for their close kills, that old satisfied expression on his face, the culmination of a job well done.

“Hurry, he’s run for the rooftop!” Fate urged them into action. “He can jump and survive, and if he takes off now who knows when we’ll have him cornered and alone like this again.” She was gone before they had time to process her warning.

“Aya, nothing stupid, please.” Youji caught Aya’s arm again, hesitant to blindly follow Fate again. She’d openly admitted she had something planned for Aya, and as the situation stood she still had room to screw them over.

Aya shook Youji off and dashed to catch up with Ken and Omi who seemed more than prepared to finish what they’d begun. Knowing how hard it was to stop killing once rhythm set in, Youji didn’t waste his breath trying to argue them down.

Bursting onto the dangerously windy rooftop, they almost slammed into Fate. She stood stock still, intent on the equally motionless figure only a handful of yards away from her. It was a short run to reach the edge of the roof, but Ko-Ishi waited, still confidant he could end this the way he wanted.

“Now!” Fate shouted to be heard above the roaring winds.

Before any of them could move, Aya broke away from their cluster, katana drawn, shouting something unintelligible at the top of his lungs with Fate close on his heels, gun held as if she intended to use it as a bludgeon when she reached their target. They reached Ko-Ishi at the same moment, as if it were a planned action and Youji could only hope to catch up before Aya threw his life away as he’d been planning from the start.

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*Quick side note on the asterisked sentence way up there in the story, on the “three unspoken words” which I’m sure many a person can guess the jist of. I don’t want someone nitpicking at me later, saying “Well, it’s only TWO WORDS in Japanese”, because you know what, cupcake, I don’t care! Weiss may take place in Japan, but I’m not writing this IN JAPANESE, am I? I’m writing it in English, and in English “I love you” is composed of three separate words. The day I go back and translate this whole damned thing into Japanese is the day I’ll change the number of words mentioned. Now, I’ll stop before I go into a truly offensive rant condemning fangirl Japanese and the use thereof. Okay, so one more chapter to go then, I hope! In the hopes that I can keep updating, this chapter is a bit short, and oooooo CLIFFHANGER! Now I have something to write towards. Well, sort of. Soooommmmeeeebody SHOOT me! You know how to find me! [email protected]