Omi looked up from his computer at a knock on his door.

“Its open.” He called, expecting Ken or Aya. But the door opened and Yohji stood there. Something was up. “What do you want now Yohji-kun?” The teenager asked wearily as the older Assassin gently closed the door.

“I need all the information you can get on Ryotto.” Yohji replied evenly, wondering vaguely why he could talk to his sworn enemies about this and not his own teammate. He was so fucked up.

“There’s not much left…” Omi replied, knowing this must have been something personal. While they never really did anything that involved personal matters, Kritiker usually gave it to them as a mission anyways; they did do private investigating when the matter arose. The teenager spun back around in his computer chair to face his desk, typing in various commands. Yohji put a hand on the chair’s back and watched over the small blonde’s shoulder. After a few moments Omi sat back with a sober look displayed across his features.

“Nothing?” Yohji asked grimly.

“Well, not much anyways.” Omi frowned. “Just some cereal numbers.” He typed away and brought them up on the screen. They ran from A-001 to D-100.

“Cereal numbers for what??” The older blonde sounded frustrated.

“Anything. Toys, computer, cars.” Omi’s boyish face was overcome with a look long past his years. “People.”

“You think these are cereal numbers for Neon God’s- oh shit.” Running on a lack of sleep always messed Yohji up, and he had just screwed up big time. Omi spun around in his computer chair.

“What do you know about Neon God?” The dart-flinging assassin asked. “Or, how do you know about them?” Yohji had never seen the kid look so serious, so hard-faced. It reminded the older blonde of Aya, which just scared the hell out of him.

“I’m working with somebody to bring them down.” Yohji mumbled, as if telling a great secret.

“Why?”

“Personal revenge.” Yohji’s normally playful voice ground down to a harsh grind.

“Who?” Omi asked, face unwavering, midday eyes steely. “Brad Crawford?”

“How do you kno-dammit.” Did it again.

“He came in to buy some flowers a few days ago.” Omi folded his arms across his chest. “I checked Kritikers files. He was married, but his wife was murdered. He thinks Ryotto did it as revenge for the death of their first president who Crawford killed five years ago as an assignment from Esset. Three years ago, you and Asuka Shin’ichiro were investigating Ryotto and she was killed. You met Crawford in the library an hour ago and promised to get the information.”

“How the fuck did you know that!?” Yohji exclaimed. Omi reached into Yohji’s wind-blown hair and pulled back, revealing a small circular object. “A tracker!?”

“With audio capabilities.” Omi sighed and rubbed his temples. “A two way radio. I was worried that an emergency may come up when you or Aya-kun were gone after a…spat,” the small tactician seemed reluctant to speak,” and Ken-kun suggested I stick one on you guys. I also learned a great deal from Kritikers memory banks.”

“How did you get it on me?” Yohji raised and eyebrow. Omi shrugged.

“When I woke you up this morning.”

“Hentai.”

“GAH! Yohji-kun!” Omi swatted him. “Anyways, these cereal numbers could mean more than we think.” He spun back around.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been trying to crack the code for a while. I’ve gotten almost no where.” He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“You work to hard bishie.” Yohji mumbled, frowning at the numbers. “Take a break then come back…”

“I want to help.”

“Why me? Isn’t the key word *personal* revenge??”

Omi yawned and replied; “privacy and personal don’t exist anymore, Yohji-kun.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Yohji thwapped the teenager on the head. “Little brat, pretending you didn’t know anything.”

“Well, better than some people who pretend to know everything but know nothing.” Yohji didn’t dignify the insult with a reply.

~End of chapter 2~