A long, slender arm flung carelessly over delicately-shaped face to shade the dappled sunlight that streamed through the pale green curtains. Eyelids slowly opened and revealed dark green eyes that tried to focus, blinking away the dots that came into view. Pale lips opened to form a word rightly describing the new morning that rose after every maddening night.

"Shit."

*

Youji Kudo disliked mornings, and he hated this particular morning more than the other mornings he'd ever had. He didn't know why, he just did. So Youji did the only thing he could think of on mornings he hated: he rolled over and went to sleep again.

Or tried to, anyway. There was a dull thud at the wall on his headboard side and he groaned into the pillow. DAMN those next-door neighbors and their daily morning activities! They had moved in fairly recently, and, like any good newly-married couples, they did their activities at any time of the day.

Bedsprings began to creak. Youji gave one last groan and banished the sight of two people making love from his mind. He did NOT need that first thing in the morning.

With a sigh, he swung his long legs at the side of the bed and stretched. The muffled moaning were getting louder, and he surmised he'd better take a long bath while they were up and at it. He should start complaining to the landlady about the thin walls. Too many drinks, long nights, and morning sex that wasn't his did not combine easily to make a perfect day for Youji Kudo.

He peeled off his shirt and threw it to the growing pile of laundry in one corner of the room. He should have them washed soon. They were beginning to stink. He made his way to the bathroom, shedding clothes all the way. By the time he entered his shower and let the small droplets of water engulf his body, he was feeling soothed.

Dark brown hair was scrubbed meticulously to drive away the sweat and his skin soaped with care. He took longer than necessary. He glanced at his bathroom alarm clock (placed there just in case he fell asleep while taking a soak at the tub) and estimated another ten minutes. He stared at the mirror, hand over his smooth face. It was something to be proud of. His long curly brown hair was piled on top of his head but there was no inch of beard on his face, nor chest hairs. He didn't have to shave his face, and he liked it.

He brushed his teeth and looked at the clock again. Fifteen minutes. Longer than expected. He stepped out and was glad to hear the blessed silence. He sighed.

He was just putting on his jeans when the phone rang. He glanced at the ID caller and sighed, picking up the receiver. It was the Koneko. "Yo," he grumbled, buttoning his jeans.

"In case you've forgotten," came Ken Hidaka's cold voice, "your shift was supposed to be this morning."

"Thanks for covering for me," Youji returned, kicking his closet door open and staring at its contents. His fashionable attires were all missing. They must be buried somewhere at the pile. Sighing again, he grabbed the first button-down shirt he saw and put it on.

"COVERING for you?!" Ken sounded annoyed. "I was WAITING for you! You got lucky Omi's classes were cancelled for the morning and he came here or I'd be all alone."

"Poor baby," Youji clucked. He began to brush the tangles from his hair. "What do you want?"

"I want YOUR ass here NOW!" There was authority in Ken's voice. Apparently, Youji wasn't the only one feeling pissed off at that certain morning. "If you're not here in ten minutes, I'll have Aya deduct it from your pay."

"Jesus fucking Christ--"

But Ken was already gone.

Youji stared at the phone, the tone beeping the busy signal. It echoed in his head. He stared out of the window. Sunshine.

The noises from the other side started again.

He slammed down the receiver and snarled, grabbing his cigarette pack and pulling out a stick. He trapped it with his two lips but didn't light it. Instead, he grabbed his keys, stomping out of his apartment. He didn't even have breakfast.

This is all YOUR fault, he snarled silently at the unrelenting sun. He put on his shades and made his way to his Jeep.

The man and woman's voices echoed in his mind, followed by the busy signal.

*

It was no use trying to talk to Ken when he came in; the boy was busy sulking in the greenhouse. Instead, Youji tried to strike up a conversation with Omi Tsukiyono. Omi was cheerful, no matter what happened. Genki, was the word that entered Youji's head, but he pushed them aside. Omi had the right to be cheerful. He loved mornings. He probably thought it was the best part of the day.

But no matter what happened, Youji couldn't push away that dark cloud that hung over his head. Even teasing Omi didn't have the usual gusto. Finally, he gave up and sat at one corner, trying to arrange flowers. He kept one eye at the clock. It was almost eleven. Morning was finished. What was WRONG with him?

Then, the door opened and suddenly, everything froze. Youji barely felt himself stand. It just got worse, he thought with a sinking feeling.

Biirman paused to turn the sign to "CLOSED" and held up a VHS tape to them. "Showtime, boys," she announced.

*

Omi looked around and frowned, wiping his hands on his apron. "Aya's not here yet," he said.

"What keen observation," Youji muttered under his breath, then immediately wished he kept his mouth shut at Omi's hurt expression. He sighed and pushed himself from the stairs and turned to Biirman. "Maybe we can see it without him? His shift's not until this afternoon," he went on in a way of explanation.

Biirman nodded and cued the tape. The TV flickered to the usual dark figure by the luminous window. Youji winced inwardly. Sunlight.

Persia's voice explained the situation. Women were being found with their bodies cut up and stitched hastily. When taken to the hospital, their ovaries were found to be either damaged, missing one carrier, or completely taken. Completely missing ovaries result to inability to have a child ever. Many of the women have already committed suicide because of this.

According to sources, at least five of the women have been taking a certain drug but another group, completely different from this group, have been seeing a particular doctor, Iwata Fujikake. For now, the drug and the doctor have not been connected, but it was their job to make the connection or find the perpetrator.

Omi was visibly pale when Biirman switched on the lights. "Ovaries?" he mumbled. His arms were absentmindedly clutching his stomach. "What on earth will they do with those? They can't be transplanted!"

"No reason was thought of, as well," Birrman admitted. "That's YOUR job. But this isn't a normal assignment." She paused, waiting for the statement to sink in.

"No?" Ken blinked and turned to her. He was sitting on the couch beside Omi, and he had to turn to the right to stare at her. "Why?"

"We want a report first," Biirman told them. "No go signal will be given unless a full research is given to me. And we want the whole research, nothing left out, with a detailed account on how to proceed on the attack, as well as at least three backup plans."

"THREE?!" Youji snorted. "What the fuck is this, a high school thesis?"

Biirman glared at him. "Iwata Fujikake happens to be a world-known scientist."

"Come on!" Youji shouted. "We've killed bastards more 'world-known' than him. Why all this plan-plan all of a sudden?"

"We don't want to make any mistakes." Birrman was irritated. Her arms folded but her hands kept clenching and unclenching. "When you strike, you strike only once and that's it. We can't take any chances here. We want everything highly researched just in case he doesn't turn out to be the one we're after. It can be a dud."

"So what?" Ken demanded. "Hasn't he done anything else worse?"

"NO!" Biirman almost shouted. "If he's behind all these, this'll be the first time he's done something as bad and you're going to have to cut him off. Kill him. Understand?" Her voice took the tone of anger. Clearly, she was done and she sighed and leaned back against the wall.

There was a tense silence.

Then, from the stairs behind Youji, there came a voice that calmly said, "We'll take it."

Youji almost jumped off his skin and he whirled around, bumping his head into the wooden steps. Omi and Ken quickly turned as well, gasping. Only Biirman seemed to be silent, waiting. Her usual expressionless face was engulfed with silent fury, but she nodded at the newcomer.

Aya Fujimiya turned to his colleagues, purple eyes half-lidded as he stared at them one by one. "Aren't we?"

Biirman smiled.

Ken shrugged. Slowly, Omi nodded his consent and sighed. Youji crossed his arms and glared at the TV, now black and silent, ominous.

"Youji?" came Aya's voice.

I fucking hate mornings, Youji thought angrily. He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he said, forcing cheerfulness. "Count me in." He glanced at the wall clock. It was already almost one. The morning had gone. Why did he still feel lousy?

*

At seven, after closing shop, Aya blocked Youji's exit. "We still have something to do," he told him.

Youji rolled his eyes. "Look, Aya, I'm hungry. I didn't have breakfast, I didn't have lunch, and I'd really love to have clean clothes for tomorrow."

Aya stared at his clothes, stared hard. Suddenly, Youji felt uncomfortable at the scrutiny. Aya's eyes were too hard. "Your clothes now are fine."

"They are for you, they're YOUR type," Youji retorted. He sighed. "Look, what do you need me for? You have Omi to check the computer. Ken can follow up the lead for tonight and you can phone me if you need anything." He dug into his pockets and held up his keys to the Jeep. "Meanwhile, I am going back and get some sleep."

Aya looked annoyed. Good, Youji thought in satisfaction. Let him ponder about it for a while. He turned to go.

"I want to go over plans."

Youji whirled around. "WHAT plans?!" he yelled. "We don't even know shit about this Fujikake guy! Aya, why can't you just let me go home?!" He was surprised at the desperation at his voice. He took one step back and breathed, trying to calm himself. It wouldn't do good to lose his head over Aya's stubbornness. Those damn couple, he thought wearily. They're keeping me up.

Aya seemed to be watching him again. Youji let him. He was too tired.

Then, in swift movements, the redhead reached out and swiped the keys from his hand. His face was grim. "I'm driving," he said.

Youji stared at him incredulously. "What?" he asked, amazed.

Just then, Ken appeared at from the hallway and glanced at them, both standing before the entrance of the locked Koneko no Sumu Ie. "I'm making coffee. You want some?" he offered.

"I'm taking Youji to his apartment," Aya answered instead, putting on his jacket. "I want at least five notes on Fujikake by the time I come back."

"Those 'five notes' are going to be easy, if you want everything," Ken told him, smiling ruefully. He turned to Youji and raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"I will be if Aya would just give me those keys!" Youji made an attempt to grab his Jeep keys but Aya easily evaded him and unlocked the front door. The taller man growled and followed him out.

Ken waved goodbye and went on to the kitchen.

*

Aya cut off the ignition and stared ahead. Youji crossed his arms, waiting for him to leave. Aya didn't move. Youji turned to him. The redhead was sullenly staring at the darkness. Youji gave a smile. "Look, Aya, as much as I love to spend the night with you, I have to go in SOMETIME." Then, he went on, "How are you going to go back to the Koneko anyway?"

"Get in your apartment," Aya told him instead.

Youji frowned. "What?"

"You heard me," Aya replied shortly. He turned to the incredulous man. "I'm taking the Jeep back. When we need you, I'll call and pick you up."

"YOU'RE taking MY means of transportation," Youji said, clarifying. He was shaking but he didn't know it. "You're taking MY Jeep even if you already have a Porsche waiting for you? And you're leaving me HERE without MY Jeep? What is this, house arrest?"

Aya stared at him before replying quietly, "Youji, you're losing sleep. I don't want you sneaking out and going barhopping when we're in the middle of a mission--"

"My LIFE doesn't have ANYTHING to do with you!" Youji shouted. "I do as I please!"

"YOU do whatever you want," Aya retorted, "as long as it doesn't hinder the mission. Now, get inside, lock the fucking door, and get to sleep." His scowl spoke thunders.

Muttering, Youji unlocked the door and stepped out. "The noise'll probably just keep me up, anyway," he muttered as he slammed the door shut. He glared at Aya. "I don't want anything to happen to my Jeep."

Aya stared at him silently.

Youji sighed and turned, climbing the stairs to his apartment. He entered his haven and closed the door behind him. From outside, he heard the familiar rumble of HIS Jeep brought to life and the rolling of tires as Aya drove away. He sighed and kicked at his clothes pile. Not even a drop of beer.

He felt his pockets, then groaned. AND he'd left his last cigarette pack at the Koneko.

To make matters worse, there was a muffled laughter from the other side of the wall. He groaned again as the bedsprings creaked.

With nights like these, he thought, no wonder mornings turn out to be shitty. He grabbed his pillows and blanket, then settled on the cold floor. He removed his pants and threw it to the bed and huddled with only his shirt and underwear. At least, here, the noise was less. It was still there, but tolerable.

He hoped he wouldn't dream much. He really shouldn't imagine the woman's body, slim and filled with sweat; shouldn't be imagining the man's body on top of her, trembling as he entered her again and again, making her scream...

Youji closed his eyes and prepared for a sleepless night.

*

Someone was screaming.

For a moment, Youji thought he was back in high school, where there were kids always shouting and there were teachers always yelling and the bell always ringing--

His head jerked from the ground and he winced, rubbing the soreness of his stiff neck. The cordless phone was ringing painfully, sending pulsing noises into his head. He groped for it and pressed it against his ears, mumbling, "Hello?"

It continued ringing.

Annoyed, he pressed the ON button and asked again, "'Lo."

"I'm picking you up in 15 minutes," came Aya's voice.

Youji fell back on the ground. "'Morning, too, Aya," he said, shifting slightly. His body was stiff. "And you usually ASK someone first for a date--"

"Cut the crap. If you're not ready by the time I get there, I'm dragging you whether you like it or not." There was a click. Youji sneered at the phone. Everybody had that annoying habit of hanging up on him, it seems. He threw the phone across the room.

Mornings. He hated them.

*

It turned out Aya was ten minutes late, and he ended up waiting for Youji to eat some breakfast, since he skipped all three meals the day before. Youji tried to coax him to eat at least some of the toast but Aya walked out of the apartment and to the Jeep to wait for him.

Finally, they were there in the Koneko. Aya wordlessly pocketed the keys again before Youji could make a grab for them. "Omi'll be arriving in a few minutes. Ken got the afternoon shift. Start opening up."

Youji hurried to catch up with him, then asked in a low voice, "So? How was it?"

Aya turned to him, then back to the locked doors. "Later. I'll have Omi fill you in." The lock came up with a snap and he pulled the metallic cover open, then stepped back to let Youji open the front door.

Stocks were replaced, the counter checked. Flowers were arranged neatly and Omi arrived to help. The teenager helped Youji sprinkle the daily dose of fertilizers as Aya turned the shop sign to OPEN. The sidewalk began to fill with people going to their work; schoolgirls lingered at the window for an early-morning glimpse of at least three of the four florists, delighted to see that all three, especially Omi and Youji, were being courteous. It was expected that Aya wouldn't say anything much, as his admirers already learned.

Finally, as lunch hour began to trickle by, the customers grew less as expected, and Aya turned to Omi, nodding. Omi nodded back and turned to Youji. Youji in turn gave his flower arrangement one final check before following Omi to the greenhouse, to the hall were Omi kept his computer. The younger boy sat before the table and booted the computer before turning to Youji.

"We don't really have much leads yet," Omi told Youji a little apologetically as the older man grabbed a chair for himself. "It's just that Fujikake is really world-famous, and there are too many articles about his work. I collected them and Ken and Aya narrowed them down to these."

He opened a series of documents, all of which Youji scanned in silence. He could feel his frown deepening. Iwata Fujikake was a doctor and scientist who majored in the study of Genetics. He had produced countless medicines all of which are distributed around the world, usually for pregnancy maladies. He had built his career since the early age of 16, and now, 15 years later, he was still considered as one of the most powerful doctors in the world.

He was a scholar at the University of...studied in Berlin majored...specializes in... Youji closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. His head was spinning; he didn't have much sleep and he was tired.

"Youji-kun? Are you okay?"

Omi's concerned tone brought Youji's eyes open and he smiled. "Yeah. Just haven't been sleeping much."

The blond boy's expression was sympathetic. "Nightmares?"

I have them every night, he thought, but he didn't say it aloud. It wasn't just the nightmares; they really DID come every night. But the neighbors. And the fear. He shuddered inwardly and smiled again. "Naw." He draped an arm around Omi's shoulders. "You know what it is, Omi."

The puzzled look turned to embarrassment and Omi raised an eyebrow to cover his flush. "Oh? And who was it last night?"

Youji barked a laughter. Omi was entering his game! "Some passing girl. Aya left too early." He was amused to see Omi's face turn into a deeper shade of pink. He stood. "Omi, let me catch a few sleep for a while, okay? Wake me in thirty minutes, and I'll take a look at those articles again."

Omi watched the older man brush some dark brown strands from his face and close his eyes momentarily. Green eyes appeared again and turned away. He heard Youji's footsteps pounding downstairs to the basement. His eyes were thoughtful as he shut down the computer.

*

Youji woke with a gasp and he almost fell off the couch if he hadn't caught himself in time. He lay back on the uncomfortable sheet and he turned to see the black TV, VHS and DVD player in front of him. It seemed eerie here, without Manx, the other Weiss, and no mission tape. He'd never been here while it was dark.

Dark--

The slender man brought his left wrist before his eyes and groaned, forcing himself to stand. He put on his shoes and arranged his clothes and hair as best as he could. He was rearranging his hair when he arrived at the top of the stairs. The hall was silent.

He looked at the kitchen; no one. The bathroom door was ajar and held no one as well. So he went to the greenhouse and heard distant noise. He went to the shop.

Just as he guessed, Aya, Ken and Omi were all busy working, closing the shop for the night. Youji leaned on the doorframe and crossed his arms. "I suppose the next thing you'll be doing is to cut me off from the pay?"

"Youji-kun!" Omi gasped as they all turned to him.

Ken was quick to explain. "Omi said you looked tired so we didn't wake you up for the afternoon shift. We might be pulling an all-nighter so we let you sleep as much as you can." He was holding the delivery sheets in his arms and he arranged and rearranged them as much as he could.

Aya said nothing. As Ken spoke, he had begun to sweep again.

Youji's mouth quirked upward. "So. Since we're 'pulling an all-nighter', I might as well help you by reading all those articles before I'm completely left out." He turned around and went to the computer. Omi thanked him and apologized again but he waved it off with a smile.

I slept through the part of the day I liked best, Youji thought grumpily. He booted the computer. And now, with this all-night working, I'll be lucky if I wake up in the morning at all.

By the time Ken, Aya and Omi trooped in after him, Youji had already read and analyzed the subject of the articles. His mind was already working and he frowned in concentration, only looking up when the other three arrived and beckoned him down the stairs. He followed them without a word.

When they went down, Omi flicked on the light and Youji winced, having to see the place he'd spent most of his afternoon and earlier of his evening in. They all settled comfortably before finally speaking.

"So," Aya said. It was the sign of the start of their meeting, and, as always, Aya said the word and didn't speak after until all of them had finished.

Picking up, Omi went on: "Fujikake is an absolutely brilliant man. He's been a nominee for the Nobel Prize three years. According to the articles, he's a well-celebrated doctor, one who specializes in Genetics and Biology."

Youji frowned. "Have you checked the victims' background, Omi?"

"I did that," Ken volunteered. He took a paper from his pocket and unfolded it. They contained his notes. "The five who see Fujikake-sensei are rich and are famous as well. They were among the first to know they ovaries were missing. The other five who used this particular drug, Kemotine, all retain their health. Kemotine is made up of simple chemicals to re-energize a woman. All who were taking these drugs are career women. The rest them, eight, all don't have anything in common."

"But that's absurd!" Omi burst out, looking frustrated. "How are we going to find a connection?"

"What if there isn't?" Youji mused. "What if the drug and Fujikake haven't got anything to do with the stealing of ovaries?"

"What if there is?" Aya countered softly, uttering his first sentence since his one-worded speech. "How do we know?" He turned to Omi. He, too, was letting a scowl seep into his normally expressionless face. "Have you and Ken made at least some connections?"

"No," Ken admitted.

"Let me see those profiles again." Ken handed Aya the sheets of paper, which the redhead studied profusely. He frowned again, but his face cleared in a few minutes of concentration.

Youji closed his eyes. He always had a good memory, and he still remembered the profiles. All of them. Thirteen victims. Thirteen. No ovaries. Not the same doctor. Not the same drugs. No ovaries. His eyes flew open and he quickly crossed the room and grabbed the papers from Aya. The redhead looked up to glare at him. "Hey!"

"Didn't you see?" Youji exclaimed. "Five of these people: Hanada, Kitoko, Uehama, Yoshida, and Mouri all go to Fujikake, who is also making a living out of being a medical doctor for rich people." He flipped on another page and looked up, smiling. "Three people out of the rest of the eight live in Fujikake's area, which is also for rich people." He pointed out the addresses. Ken, Omi and Aya all gathered around.

"Well, what about the other five?" Ken pointed out.

"Three of the remaining five have signed up an agreement to become test subjects for a Genetics research," Youji said, pointing out the size 8 font at the mini profile. "This isn't Fujikake's company, but they might have been referred to by their institute."

"The other two?" Aya demanded.

Youji shrugged. "I don't know yet. Maybe we can find out if some of us ask them." He let his voice raise in a poor imitation of Biirman: "That's YOUR job."

Omi smiled. Aya turned away. Ken's mouth quirked into a smile and he nodded and said, "Let's go."

*

Ken voted Aya not to be the one doing the asking, and Youji whole-heartedly agreed. Aya raised an eyebrow. Aya grumbled a little. But at the end, Aya ended up drilling Youji and Ken, who would be asking the other two families for similarities.

After they finished setting it up, they set a time for the morning and finally decided.

When Omi gave a small yawn, Youji suddenly felt his bones grow weary. The eight-hour sleep had not been enough, he gathered. He smiled at Omi and turned to Aya. "Hey, don't you think we already did enough? C'mon, it's already 3:00 am and Ken and I are waking up early tomorrow." He stopped, then corrected himself: "Later."

Aya gave him a look that was a cross of irritation and puzzlement. In other words, no expression. Then he nodded. "Alright. Ken, Youji, after your interview, I want you back here for your shifts. Give you report to me. I'll read it. Then, Omi, you have it encoded as saved as an official file."

Youji smiled. "Doesn't it sound strange? We're becoming all military-type all of a sudden."

"I wonder why they wanted us to be extra careful here?" Omi mused. "After all, this isn't the first time we're going after someone who's so famous."

"Maybe it just has something to do with Kritiker or Biirman," Ken replied, gathering their reports and stacking them to a neat pile. "You know...something personal."

"Nothing is personal," Aya said flatly, getting up and walking away.

Youji shrugged and turned to Omi and Ken. "I don't know, but if they're doing this, they might as well give us an official badge or something. I don't like being controlled in this job. I want free reign of everything." His voice became bitter that Omi stared at him, surprised.

"But, Youji-kun, it'll only be for one time," the blond boy told him.

Youji closed his eyes. "Yeah. But one time is enough for them to feel the power and want it. I don't want it." It was said almost softly. Then, in almost just a second later, his eyes popped open and he sat bolt upright. "My KEYS!'

Omi and Ken exchanged glances. Youji sprang up and sped after the retreating figure of Aya.

When he got outside, Aya was sitting at the Jeep quietly, the machine already on, waiting for him behind the driver's seat. Youji scowled. Aya cocked his head.

The brown-haired man waved goodbye at Omi and Ken before jumping in the passenger seat and hanging on as Aya took off.

*

"Next thing I know," Youji muttered at the darkness, "you'll be asking to kiss me goodnight."

Aya didn't say anything. Instead, he looked ahead, beyond the windshield, to the darkness that engulfed the whole Jeep when he cut off the ignition. He didn't even smile at Youji's joke. But then, he never really smiled.

Youji turned to him, suddenly tired and apprehensive. "Hey, does this mean you're not gonna let me have my Jeep for a night again?"

"Get in your apartment," Aya replied simply.

Youji sighed. "Yeah, yeah." He was too tired to argue. His eyes were ready to fall out. So he climbed into the stairs and fumbled for his keys, stumbling inside as soon as the door opened. He didn't listen for the telltale noise of Aya driving away. He wanted to sleep. He had to get up in the morning and help Ken.

Mornings.

Youji somehow found his way to the bedroom and fell into his bed, wishing the neighbors would, for once, leave him to his nightmares. He didn't need other distractions. As if to mock him, a giggle sounded from the other side of the wall. Youji closed his eyes. He didn't care.

Outside, Aya sat at the driver's seat, hands gripping the steering wheel as he stared at the apartment door.

*

Aya called at half-past seven. Youji was already dressed and he picked up the receiver. "I'm ready," he said crisply.

"Ten minutes," came Aya's deadpan voice.

Youji gave a crooked grin at the mirror. "Just try." He and Aya hung up at the same time. The mirror sat across the foot of his bed. His dark brown hair was brushed neatly and tied into a clean ponytail at the nape of his neck, though few tendrils fell over his ears and eyes. Once again, he wasn't wearing flashy clothes, since all of them were in the laundry; they had already been given to the woman downstairs who did him favors for a small price whenever he didn't have time.

His skin, though was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. He put a hand over his face and took a deep breath as he let his eyes close for a few seconds. Mornings. He especially hated mornings when he wasn't able to sleep.

The moans started again and he kept his eyes closed. Maybe Aya wouldn't show up and he could ignore the fact he hadn't been laid for over five months now. Maybe Ken would tell him he could handle it alone. Maybe Omi would let him skip his shift. Maybe he could die now and everything will be alright.

He smiled at the thought.

There was a knocking and Youji opened his eyes and sat upright as Aya came straight from the living room to his bedroom. He smiled and turned to the clock. "Yo, Aya. You're five minutes late."

Aya blinked, then turned to the wall.

The woman was screaming a name over and over again before the man gave a triumphant shout and then, there was quiet.

Youji had never wanted to die on the spot so much in his life.

Slowly, Aya turned to him, eyes half-lidded as he hooked his left thumb on his black jeans. "Come on," he said quietly.

"Yes," Youji said gratefully and he quickly stood up and fled to the running Jeep. He didn't see Aya stare at the wall hard, as if it would crumble away to ashes once he was through with it.

*

"I'm sorry about the tight security," the woman apologized, looking distressed. "It's just that--"

"It's quite alright," the young man interrupted smoothly, smiling. His green eyes almost comforted her from her distressed state. He had the aura of serenity, as if only a few minutes ago, he hadn't undergone a harassment from the overprotective electronic security. "With a house like this, I understand." He glanced around the living room for emphasis.

Kyoko Ishijima nodded and straightened her eyeglasses before pointing to the cushioned seats. "Please, sit down, Mr.--?" she prompted.

"Kiyuu. Taro Kiyuu," the man replied smoothly. He sat on the comfortable chairs and leaned forward. He pushed a stray dark brown hair from his green eyes and smiled. "Mrs. Ishijima, isn't it? I'm sorry...about the unfortunate accident." He sounded sincere.

"Yes." Her voice was still strong. "What brings you here to find me?'

Taro nodded. "It's about Dr. Fujikake."

"What about him?" Kyoko was curious, but she kept her voice well-guarded. This man might look innocent, but looks can be deceiving. And he had mentioned his name.

Taro clasped his fingers together, looking serious. "Mrs. Ishijima, are you related in any way to Dr. Fujikake?"

Kyoko gave a little sigh and, unconsciously, her hand fluttered to her abdomen. "Well, you could say that." She gave a little embarrassed laughter. "His sister, Utako. She and I used to go to college together. We were never close but we ended up as roommates for one semester. I never met Dr. Fujikake, ever." Her voice broke at that and she cleared her throat. Again, her fingers tightened at her abdomen.

Taro's eyes flickered to that direction before meeting hers again. His expression was soft. "I don't mean to pry, but are you alright?"

"Y-yes," Kyoko said faintly. "Why do you ask?"

"You look very pale. Maybe I should continue this at another time--" He made a motion to stand but Kyoko waved him down again.

"No. No," she said, "I'm alright. Please." She took a deep breath and smiled shakily. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to let her guard down. A little. "It's just that...my husband--he's very protective of me, and I don't blame him. Ever since...this happened." She motioned to her abdomen and made a helpless shrug. She choked back her tears. "This almost killed him. He wanted so much to have children."

"I'm sorry," Taro told her softly. He made no motion to touch her, however, and she was grateful. If he did, she would've broken down. Instead he looked away. "So you don't know Dr. Fujikake?"

"I lied to you," she whispered. "I saw him twice."

Taro turned to her slowly. "I understand."

"No, you don't," she replied softly. "You see, the first time I saw Dr. Fujikake was when he just got his masters. It was a long time ago. The next time I saw him...was when...I was attacked."

Taro remained silent.

"His face was the last thing I saw before I blacked out." Her voice began to tremble as well. "I haven't told anyone else except for my husband. He's quite...distressed. He wanted to move to another country but I wouldn't let him. So he locked me up in this house. I'm grateful, but I feel so caged." She put a hand over her face and sighed. "Forgive me, I'm straying."

"That's alright," Taro reassured her, prompting.

"Anyway, according to Aki, my husband, I was missing for three days. He waited for the ransom note but at the last day, he got a note to get me at the corner of 19th Street. He said I was there, a little bloody, but alright. Missing my...ovaries. But alright." She choked a sob and buried her face in her hands. "Aki wanted to kill Dr. Fujikake, but I told him not to confront him. I want to forget this ever happened."

Taro bit his lips, clenching his fists.

"I...wanted children so bad..." She began to cry in earnest, and that was the only time Taro reached out to touch her wrist. She looked up, not bothering to wipe away her tears. "A?"

Taro smiled but his eyes were filled with anger. "Mrs. Ishijima," he said slowly.

"Eh?" she asked.

The man nodded and grinned. It was full of venom and she began to fear. Not him. But for him. "I'll make you smile again."

Before she knew it, she burst out, "I don't care if I never smile! I just want...I just want Aki to be happy!"

Taro nodded again. "You'll both be happy." And, as if an older brother, he let her cry again, for the husband she loved more than anyone in the world. And for the children she would never have.

*

Taro Kiyuu stepped out of the gate and walked a block away, green eyes now obscured by dark glasses. At the corner of the black Porsche found at the corner sat two figures, one at the driver's seat, the other at the passenger's seat.

Ken Hidaka leaned out of the passenger seat and waved at him. "Ne, Youji, what took you so long?" he demanded.

Long fingers brushed away the dark brown hair. Taro smiled and folded his arms. "No matter. Youji Kudo has returned."

Aya looked annoyed but Ken only laughed. In a few minutes, the three were speeding off to the direction of the Koneko no Sumu Ie.

*

He heard sounds against the wall and busy signals and heated sounds of sex. He was not turned on. He was irritated. He wanted these things stopped before his eyes fell over from lack of sleep. Maybe he should start sleeping at the Koneko. Maybe he should complain to the landlady. It was about time he did. He just never had the time. He was always so busy. Omi was always shouting his name.

Like now. Omi's voice was all he heard. Omi was saying his name over and over. He looked around and saw his bedroom walls shake and become unfocused--

"Youji," came Omi's voice. "Youji, Youji wake up."

Youji groaned. "I am up."

"What did you say?" More shaking. "Youji!"

And then came she came through the door. She was smiling. "Time to get up, Youji," she said coaxingly, placing a hand on his shoulders. "Wake up."

As if magic, Youji opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep in the counter. He stifled a yawn and turned to Omi, who was standing beside him, hand on his shoulder. "Oh. Hi, Omi." Memories filtered again and he looked away. Even in the day, she returned to his dreams. "Did I fall asleep again?"

"You've been doing that a lot," Omi told him worriedly. "Youji, is anything wrong?"

Youji dropped his head in his arms for a moment before answering in a muffled voice: "No. Just haven't been sleeping well."

"You said that last night." Omi was silent for a moment before going on: "You want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Youji replied shortly. He raised his head and tried his best to smile at the boy. "Omi, I'm alright."

"I hope so," the boy muttered. But he gave a small smile and squeezed Youji's shoulders. "But if you need--"

"No, I don't," the man interrupted. He stood up and looked around. There were a few girls left. It was almost seven. They would be closing soon. "Where's Ken and Aya?"

"Ken's at back," Omi returned. "Aya's studying the reports you gave him. I'll be encoding them later."

Youji nodded distractedly as a girl neared them and gave him her order. Omi excused himself and went out back to get ready for closing time. Youji nodded and took care of the final orders. Finally, at half-past seven, the whole shop had been cleared and the other three emerged to help him close shop. Without a word, they all trooped at the basement to talk about the mission.

"So," came Aya's traditional opening.

"I talked to Ms. Takashi," Ken said. He passed two handwritten notes to Omi and Youji. "She used to live next door to Fujikake. But she didn't seem to have any contact with him before. So I guess that's another person added to the list of people who know Fujikake." He turned to Youji. "What about you?"

"I hit the jackpot," Youji announced, leaning against the couch. "Fujikake was the last person Mrs. Ishijima saw when she was attacked." He watched for their reactions.

Ken's eyes widened and Omi let a horrified gasp. Aya's face was still grim. "So it's confirmed. Fujikake is the real target. Omi already has his schedule, so we'll work out a plan by tomorrow and at the next night, work on plan B and C. We contact Biirman and Kritiker, then wait for a go signal." He crossed his arms. "But I want something else."

"What?" Omi asked for all of them.

"The reason," Aya replied. "He's doing this for a reason and I want to know what it is. I want to know why they're making us plan so carefully for this. If there's something behind him, I want answers." He turned to them. "So I'll be trailing Fujikake tomorrow."

"Are you sure you're just not skipping your shift?" Youji joked.

Aya ignored him and pushed himself from the wall. "Maybe Omi can work a little report." But he was not asking Omi.

"I'll help," Ken volunteered, straightening from the other side of the couch beside Youji.

Youji nodded. "I'll do, too--"

"No," Aya interrupted. "Tomorrow's Sunday. The shop will be closed. I want you to come with me."

Youji scowled. There was authority in Aya's voice. "Why?"

"Because," Aya replied. But he didn't finish what he was about to say. Instead, he turned and walked up the stairs, leaving the three to stare at him in doubt.

*

When Youji jumped down from his Jeep, he was surprised to see that Aya had also stepped down and slammed the door of the driver's seat shut. He crossed his arms. "What? You're seeing me off now? Or did you, by some miracle, suddenly remember that this is MY Jeep and you're returning it to me so you can walk back to your wonderful Porsche?"

Aya ignored him, as usual. "Go up."

Youji threw up his hands and gave up. He fished his apartment keys from his pocket and went up, puzzled to see that Aya had trailed behind him. When he pushed the door open, Aya quickly entered and switched on the lights.

Youji stared at him, a enraged. "Why don't you come in?" he said sarcastically, entering and kicking the door shut.

"Pack your bags," Aya ordered. "You're sleeping at my apartment."

Then, as if knowing they were there was a series of voices. A woman panting a name and a man grunting over and over, with the headboard slamming at the walls of Youji's bedroom. Both turned to the direction before turning to each other again.

"Why?" Youji demanded.

"Just do it," Aya said tersely. His voice was trembling a bit, as if he was trying to control his speech and failing miserably.

"Why?"

"DAMN YOU, YOUJI!" Aya shouted.

Youji stomped into the bedroom, grabbing his overnight bag that he used for missions that were outside the city limits. The closet door was thrown open and his clean shirts and pants, as well as underwear, were thrown inside in his haste and barely checked anger.

Faster, came the voice. Harder!

I'm coming! A shout. Hold on--

Screams.

A hand enclosed around Youji's wrist and pulled him away from the closet. "Aa!" Youji felt himself stumble to Aya, only to be pushed to the wall. The bag fell on the floor, spilling his belongings. Behind him, the noise increased. His head banged on the wooden barrier and he felt tears sting his eyes.

Aya was before him. And Aya leaned forward and kissed him.

Time stopped.

Youji's mind was a white haze that clouded his visions. He didn't feel anything except Aya's mouth on his, biting his lower lips and forcing his tongue to enter. He tasted only Aya's exquisite taste and his own blood that had gashed open where the redhead had bitten him. He only remembered everything when he heard the sharp tearing of his shirt, buttons popping and Aya's hands roaming on his chest.

Youji tried to pull back, so quick he heard Aya draw in a sharp breath. The redhead's eyes were darker shades of purple, lust mingling with uncontrolled need and hate. "Aya--"

"Shut up," Aya muttered, pushing him again with a loud thud and locking his mouth at his once more. But only for a second. Aya's mouth began to travel down, and Youji squirmed at his touch, feeling tears flow down from his eyes to his cheeks, faster than Aya's mouth.

Aya bit his neck before licking it, sucking as Youji whimpered.

"You--deserve this--" Aya breathed before going down further to trail kisses at his chest.

Youji closed his eyes and held on to his shoulders, crying out and arching when Aya's tongue found his right nipple. Why?

Aya bit hard, and Youji screamed again, gripping his partner's shoulders tightly. He tugged at the shirt frantically but Aya bit again and he moaned, suddenly content at just clenching his fists. Why? Why do I deserve this?

"Because," Aya muttered as he transferred to the other nipple, "you live next door to your neighbors."

Youji would have laughed if Aya wasn't hell-bent on torturing him. His fingers tightened again as Aya's left hand found the center of his legs; all heat rushed from all parts of his body to that direction, swelling his groin and meeting Aya's squeeze. He thrust his hips to Aya's hands, sobbing uncontrollably, needing the release but wanting to be released.

"You were," Aya murmured as he pulled back, "always too fucking close."

"To what?"

"To me."

Aya stepped away for a while and Youji almost lost his balance as his hands on Aya's shoulders faltered. The redhead stared at him silently and Youji made a motion to push him away but Aya raised his right hand and let it fall over his cheek. His backhand fell over Youji's jaw, striking the older man's left cheek. With a muffled sob, Youji's head hit the wall hard and Aya raised his other hand to caress the forming bruise.

"I hate you," Youji sobbed.

Aya kissed him again. "You always have." His two hands pulled down his jeans, and he quickly kicked them away when they reached his feet. His two hands felt Youji's; they had formed into two useless fists beside his hips. He touched Youji's groin again. Youji pulled away and moaned, head falling back. But Aya prevented it and quickly tangled his fingers through the dark brown hair, then forced the man to bend down.

Youji's eyes widened and he began to fight. "No, Aya--please--"

Aya raised his knee and let it level with his stomach. Youji doubled over and Aya caught him as he gasped for breath.

"You've always been a fucking prick," he whispered close to his ear.

Then, the redhead pushed down his shorts and let his swelling sex come close to Youji's face. Youji closed his eyes, letting the tears rush down as he opened his mouth. Aya groaned, raising his arms to balance himself to the wall as Youji took his whole length inside and bit gently, then began to suckle quickly, not letting himself gag.

Aya closed his eyes and shoved his hips forward, pulling and pushing Youji's head forward and backward to meet his thrusts. Youji was sobbing as he sucked, but Aya didn't care. All he cared about was that Youji was kneeling before him, meeting his thrusts, and that sight made him want to sob as well.

He could feel himself coming close. Youji's expert tongue stabbed at the head, biting gently, nipping here and there, all the while crying. He wrenched himself away, hearing the long-haired man's cry. But he had other ideas. Instead, he yanked Youji up and slammed him to the wall, back towards him.

"Aya, don't--"

"Youji!" Aya slammed him again. He heard the other moan in pain before putting his arms around his waist to pinch Youji's nipples. With the moans, Youji panted his name, putting his arms around his head as Aya's fingers played the slightly damp pebbles between his thumb and forefingers.

When Youji's face fell sideways, Aya let his mouth kiss him again, roughly invading his mouth once more. Youji's tongue met him slowly, and they intertwined into a dance of lovemaking. Aya's hands slid over his chest, his ribs, his stomach, unzipping his jeans and pulling them and his briefs down at the hips, to the thigh. He pressed his knees between his legs, forcing them apart. It was a difficult idea, with Youji's pants hindering him.

Aya's palm enclosed around Youji's length and the older man's eyes shot open as he gave a scream. Aya quickly covered his mouth with his own once more and he swallowed the cry, burying it deep in his throat.

He tasted Youji's tears again.

Why? he thought he heard Youji ask again, but he was sure he didn't hear. He was still kissing Youji. Why now? Why?

So he answered with his own thoughts. Because you make me, he whispered to the other's mind.

His hands slid to Youji's backside, then parted the fleshy cheeks and pushing in one finger, then two. Youji gave another muffled cry and pulled away, panting heavily with his eyes closed. He gave a small whimper of pain as another finger, the third, entered him. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Aya bit his lip. He wanted the pain. "Open your eyes, Youji," he ordered. "Open them!"

Youji's eyes opened but they were half-lidded.

"Watch me," Aya directed him. He inserted another finger and Youji cried out. Aya slammed him to the wall again. "Watch me, damn you!"

Youji's eyes were wide open now and he stared at Aya, his arms still around the redhead's neck who was behind him. Aya felt the tremor grow at the older man's body as his fingers found what he was looking for. He smiled grimly.

"What do you want?" Youji whispered. He was weeping again.

"You to look at me," Aya answered sharply. And he thrust himself forward, entering Youji with nothing but saliva as his lubricant.

Youji cried out in pain, the sensation too new for him to enjoy. But he never closed his eyes; Aya pulled back from the sheath, almost completely. Youji's eyes widened and Aya groaned and pushed himself back in. Harder and harder, he tried to make himself go slower, but he wanted to see Youji's pain. Quickly, angrily, he pushed himself deeper, deeper, forcing Youji to accommodate him. Over and over, Youji slammed into the wall. Aya's left hand stayed on his hip for bracing but the right found its way to Youji's groin where he began to thrust in time with the entering.

"Aya," Youji panted. "You can't--can't do this--"

"Why not?" Aya demanded, pushing himself further. "I could--again and again--"

Youji bit his lip. "I won't allow you," he cried.

"You have no choice," Aya groused back, and thrust back in, deeper, harder. Youji screamed at the sheer intensity, his length being pumped by Aya's right hand. His head fell back, dark brown hair falling over Aya's shoulder, sweat mingling with sweat.

Then, Youji felt the whole world explode into darkness and he thrust harder into Aya's palm, feeling the thick liquid pour into Aya's hands. In just a breath later, Aya came within Youji, and they both let out a pure wild cry before Aya caught him in time before they fell on the floor, exhausted.

*

Aya was gone in the morning.

Youji woke up in bed, naked but clean, with a blanket drawn over his skin. There were no signs of sex; no signs of what had transpired the night before. Even his thrown overnight bag was sitting at the corner, with all his things gone and probably tucked neatly inside the closet. That was like Aya. Very neat. Leaving nothing behind.

There were signs of sex, Youji thought and he winced as he tried to move. His ass hurt like hell. Aya...he didn't use lubricant.

His whole body burned at the thought of the younger redhead handling him. With shame or excitement, he didn't dwell on. His nipples were still raw from behind bitten, his own sex a little flaccid but bruised from behind manhandled by Aya's strong fingers.

Youji turned over and heard a little crumpling noise.

He started, then winced again. Moving more carefully, he pulled the paper from his backside and held it up to his eyes.

I'm calling you in sick, were the words, written in hastily scribbled kanji and hiragana. Aya's handwriting. He must have known Youji would be too sore.

Youji crumpled the paper and threw it across the room.

Why? he had asked Aya last night.

Because you make me, Aya had replied before raping him.

Sunlight stippled down from his window. Youji snarled and drew the drapes close. It didn't shut out the light completely, but it added to the darkness. He closed his eyes.

He hated mornings.

*

Omi arrived at about one in the afternoon. Youji heard the snap of locks and quickly tensed. He was inside the bathroom, scrutinizing his appearance. He looked awful. There was a large bruise on his left cheek and all over his body; there were dark circles under his eyes. But he shunned away the thought and quickly dressed.

He stepped out of the bathroom and went to the living room, hands clenched beside his hips. But when he shouted, "YOU!", Omi turned quickly to him with a yelp.

"Youji!" he exclaimed, looking guiltily at the object of analysis. It was his remote control. Immediately, the boy held out a flat box. "Um...Aya said you might want lunch."

Youji blinked at him. "Lunch?"

"Yeah," Omi replied. He neared and Youji got a whiff. Pizza. "Hey. Aya didn't say you were this bad. Maybe you should stay in bed?"

"I've been staying in bed for the past eight hours," Youji grumbled, leading him to the kitchen. He wasn't too sore now, although he could still feel the faint throb of painful muscles of his ass. He walked slowly. "What'd Aya say?"

"Nothing much," Omi answered, quickly setting the box on the small round table and opening it. "He just dropped by at HQ and said you're too sick to go with him today. Ken and I have been closing in on sources, looking on the companies Fujikake sponsored and worked in." He took a pizza slice and motioned for Youji to have one. Youji obliged. He hadn't had breakfast and dinner the night before.

"So...?"

"I brought some notes. Aya called up and said you might want lunch. He must've dropped by this morning here and checked on you. He brought your Jeep again." Omi took a bite and passed him some papers. "These are all we've come up so far."

Youji forced his mind to focus on the notes before him and not on where Aya was now. "What about the attack plans?"

"Working on it. I've already made the first plan and I'll submit it to Aya later. Ken's working on plan B."

"Mm." Youji chewed the mildly warm pizza and stared at the notes. "Omi, aren't these research companies connected?"

"Yeah, that's what we've found so far. Aya's not gonna settle for only that, though. We want the reason why he wants those ovaries. It sounds too weird." Omi gave a sigh of frustration.

"Omi..."

"What?"

"Is Aya trailing Fujikake now?" Youji's mind was working fast.

Omi nodded. "Yeah. We have him in the commlink. Want to talk to him?"

Youji pursed his lips together. Ovaries. Research labs. He frowned. "Can I see the background profile of Fujikake again? Did you bring it?"

Omi dug into his backpack and pulled out a couple of papers. He passed them on to Youji's waiting hand, frowning. "Youji, what's wrong?"

"Wait...wait..." Youji reread the profile, then stared at the picture. His eyebrows were drawn together. "Doesn't...he look like...someone we know?"

Omi stared at the picture, then back at Youji, confused. "No. He has a beard, has eyeglasses."

Youji handed him the picture. "I have a computer at the living room. Scan it, and we'll to a little redecorating of faces." 

*

Youji polished off three pizzas before calling it quits. He went to the living room to offer the rest to Omi, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Omi burst out, "Okay, got it. What do you want me to do?" He sounded excited.

Youji put down the pizza box on the coffee table and went towards him. He saw that Omi had already opened the program he used before for changing faces. He smiled. "Make him a girl."

"Youji!" Omi yelled, exasperated.

Youji held up his arms. "I'm serious, make him a girl!"

Omi growled in frustration before doing as he was told. He removed the wrinkles, made the facial coloring lighter, and heightened the cheekbones. "What else?"

"Remove the beard, idiot. And the eyeglasses." Omi complied. Youji bit his lip, frowning in concentration. "Slant the eyes a little higher, there."

"Oh my God," Omi murmured quietly as he began to see what was beginning to form. But Youji wasn't finished.

"Add more hair, make it dark. Yes."

"I know what you're getting at, Youji," Omi told him crossly. But when they turned to each other, their eyes were grim.

Youji was the first to speak. "I think," he said grimly, "it's time to contact Biirman."

*

An hour later, they were sitting in Ueno Park. Omi was clutching his backpack and Youji was wearing one of his clean clothes. He suddenly remembered that the lady downstairs hadn't returned his fashionable clothes yet. He moved slowly, then winced as he felt a bruise on his ribs pop slightly.

Aya...

"Ken's here," Omi said suddenly. He nodded at a direction. "And Aya."

Youji stood and pushed his sunglasses to place. "Any sign of Biirman?"

"No." Omi scanned the park.

Aya and Ken quickly reached them. "Alright, what's this about?" Aya asked angrily. His eyes fell on Youji for a second before turning to glare at Omi. "Why did you want us to meet here? Couldn't it have waited until tonight?"

"Tonight," Omi announced, "we're going to infiltrate Fujikake's company."

"What?" Ken looked confused. "I thought we planned for next week, or, at least, when we get the go signal?"

"We should be getting it," Youji muttered. He pulled out his sunglasses when he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. "About right now."

Biirman strolled towards them and past. She turned to give them a small glance before walking on, as if nothing had happened. Taking this as their cue, the four sat down again on the bench and watched at the corner of their eyes as the woman left the park and crossed the street. Omi made a motion and they followed her.

They finally caught up in ten minutes, at a nearby clothes shop. They ducked into an alley. The avenue had very few people. The city noise seemed so far away at that place, and the afternoon light made it seem like it was already sunset.

Biirman looked at them all. "You have all the reports?" she asked quietly.

"All but one," Youji drawled, leaning against the wall across her.

Ken and Aya looked surprised but remained quiet. They trusted them.

Biirman's expression grew to anger. "Then what did you call me here for?" she demanded. "You only contact me when your research is finished."

"We're finishing it right now," Omi replied easily, growing bolder. From his backpack, he withdrew two printed papers. One was of Iwata Fujikake. The other was the remedied picture Omi and Youji did earlier. It was Biirman's picture.

Biirman took the two papers and clenched them in her fists. Ken gasped. Aya's eyes narrowed. "What is the meaning of this?" the redhead demanded.

"Yes," Youji asked softly, eyes trained on Biirman. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Kritiker never required us to give all those reports, didn't he?" Omi asked flatly. "They were your requirements. We would've finished the job by now if you hadn't required us to hand those reports, then make some crap about some 'go signal' we had to wait for."

"What's this about?" Ken burst out angrily. "What are all you saying?!"

Youji turned to Aya and Ken, who were staring at the three of them in confusion. "Fujikake," Youji told them slowly, "is Biirman's father."

*

The two papers landed on the ground. Biirman looked up, eyes glazed and filled with hate. "I needed to see if they were correct!" she said in a tightly controlled voice. "You would've done the same!"

"No," Aya said angrily, "we wouldn't."

"Aya," Youji said sharply. He reached out a hand to touch Biirman's shoulder. "Yes," he replied. "We would've done the same."

Aya's eyes narrowed again in anger and his hands clenched into fists. "She lied to us, Youji."

"Would it have been easy for you to kill your own father, Aya?" Youji challenged softly. He turned to Ken. "Was it easy to kill Kase, Ken?" He turned to Omi. "And you, was it easy to kill your own brother Hirofumi?" He turned to Aya, scowling. "It wasn't easy to kill Neu, Aya. You know it."

"She lied to us!" Aya shouted.

"She was protecting him!" Youji yelled back.

Biirman pulled away from Youji's grasp, putting a hand over her ears. "STOP IT!" she screamed. "STOP IT!" Her eyes were wild but open; there were no tears. Youji felt a pang of respect. She never cried. "Stop it," she repeated, calmly now. "You're right. It was my fault. Kritiker...must've known as much when the assignment was handed to me." She looked up, dark blue hair falling over her eyes. But she did not brush them away. "I'm sorry. I'll tell you all now."

The four pulled back and waited for her to begin.

"Father...no, Dr. Fujikake had been a Nobel Prize nominee for three years in a row because of his outstanding research." When she spoke, Biirman began to speak again in her normal mission voice. It was cold, detached, and quick to the point. "Four years ago, he became heard of Axis Co., a research company dedicated to finding a way to avoid miscarriage. Since he was very good in Genetics, he was able to come up with many theories.

"But it was about two and a half years ago when Axis Co. had a little accident that destroyed many of his projects. They sponsored him again, but he had already lost interest in something he'd already done. He didn't want to rebuild what he had lost. He wanted something else. That's when he became interested in another project of Axis Co. And this project was held underground. Axis Co. still sponsored these companies, but mostly, they worked alone. It's called Leila Project. It's dedicated to the research of genetic abnormalities and finding out the reason.

"Fujikake was very interested. It intrigued him. In less than a year, they had most of their theories proven--"

"But what about the ovaries?!" Ken cut in. "What about the women?"

Biirman held him in a deadly gaze. "I'm getting to that." She turned to the others, eyes impassive. "Leila Project has already expanded to a full-time genetics research. And for the past year, they've been doing what most Genetics Programs have been doing, finding the link to the DNA that will cure all sickness." She scowled. "But they've been doing it illegally. While most legal researchers have only their computers, they have one advantage: ovaries. Just because it doesn't match in the computer doesn't mean it won't work in real life."

"So they've been gathering ovaries for the past six months." Omi chewed on his bottom lip. "Are you sure it's him? Because if it isn't, we won't kill him."

"Omi!" Ken exclaimed.

Biirman bowed her head slowly, but her expression was still fierce. "I've succumbed to weakness, and I beg for your forgiveness," she said coldly. She didn't seem sorry. "I know I've disobeyed orders but I want this plan to succeed. If you're going to kill him, I want Father killed in a way that there will be NO problems. That's why I had you draw up at least three backup plans."

"Do you really want to kill your father?" Aya asked softly.

Biirman turned to him, crossing her arms. "What do you think?" It was a question not meant to be answered but Aya took it anyway.

"I think," Aya replied slowly, "you will do anything to rid the world of people like him."

Then, the woman's expression softened and her eyes glistened with what curiously looked like tears. "Oh, Aya not anything." She blinked; they were gone. She brushed the hair away from her eyes.

"We have a plan," Omi started but he was interrupted.

"Good enough. I don't need your backup plans anymore. Encode them for a final report to Kritiker and hand them to when you're finished. I trust you." She took a step away, then turned back to them. "White hunters of the dark. Hunt the tomorrow of these dark beasts." And she was gone.

*

It was already nighttime when they stepped out of the alley. They hadn't even noticed.

*

Ken wanted to perform the duty that night but Youji declined. He asked him why but Youji only answered, "I want to be there."

Aya's eyes narrowed but he chose not to comment.

They pored over the two plans. Ken and Omi had made each, but they were following the original plan. Monday night, Axis Co. main HQ will be deserted except for the usual guards. But there were the security system. Omi had already hacked the main computer of the building to obtain the blueprints and the security plans.

Aya drilled them of their positions, and Omi had them memorized each routes.

"Who's going after Fujikake?" Omi asked.

Aya opened his mouth but Youji beat him to it. "Me," he said grimly.

The redhead looked as if he was about to argue but then he shrugged and said, "I'm covering for him."

Youji turned to glare at him but Aya had already bent over the blueprint and did not meet his eyes. "I don't need cover," the older man seethed.

Aya looked up. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Ken and Omi watched the exchange curiously. They had never heard Aya speak like that unless it was his sister he was talking to. Youji was not Aya's sister.

Youji was caught off-guard but he quickly regained his composure. "Of course I am!" he said confidently. "That's why I'm going tomorrow."

Aya stared at him for a while, then looked away. "I'm taking you home again."

And Youji fell silent. His cheeks were burning red.

There was silence. Then, Ken burst out, "Alright, now that we have that settled, can we please return to these plans?"

*

Aya was already waiting by the Jeep when Youji was finished. He tried to prolong the inevitable, but he didn't want to show Aya how much he had been affected. So he waved goodbye to Omi and Ken, who were climbing into their own respective motorcycles before zooming away. Aya started the Jeep and backed out from the garage. Youji stared for a while at the black Porsche. It looked so alone.

The trip to Youji's apartment was a long ride, something that Youji welcomed. There was no reason to speak while driving and while Aya was concentrating. He could stare outside or anywhere he wished, as long as he wasn't staring at Aya.

But the ride was over soon, and before long, Aya was parking in front of his apartment and was cutting the engine. Youji scowled. He was fidgeting.

"Well," he said awkwardly, "see ya." He pulled at the locks. But before he could jump down, a hand caught his jacket sleeve.

"Wait."

"DON'T touch me!" Youji cried out, drawing away. Aya flinched and quickly released him. Youji huddled in his seat and shuddered, closing his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Shouldn't have done that."

"'Sorry'?" Aya's voice was mocking. "You?"

Youji's eyes opened with a flash but he saw that Aya was gripping the steering wheel hard and was staring ahead. He looked guilty and scared. "Aya...?"

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" His voice was low.

There was a brief silence, an uncomfortable one. Aya didn't turn to him. Youji didn't call his attention.

"You shouldn't...go to the mission tomorrow," Aya told him tightly.

Youji's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Are you sure you can walk?" Aya asked him quietly.

Youji winced. His ass still hurt now and then during the day but it was just a twitch of memory's pain, he knew. What hurt were the bruises. His left cheek. What hurt most was Aya's raping him. "I can do it. It's easy tomorrow."

"That's why I'm backing you up."

Youji glared at him. "What do you want from me, Aya?" he asked in a low voice. "What did you want to take?"

Aya turned to stare at him. Purple eyes met green in the darkness. Then, Aya reached out to take his hand. Youji flinched but didn't pull away. Youji's left palm was turned up and Aya dropped a ring of keys to his fingers. The older man blinked. It was his Jeep keys. "What--?"

"I wanted all of you," the redhead told him softly. Then, he opened the door to the driver's seat and stepped out.

When Youji was able to snap out of his surprise, Aya was already long gone.

*

There was no noise tonight.

It was disconcerting because he still wasn't able to sleep. For once, he didn't imagine the woman and the man at the other side of the wall, having sex for their lives' worth. He didn't want to. But then, he didn't want the images of Aya fucking him as Youji begged him to--

What was WRONG with him!? Aya had forced himself on Youji, and here he was, getting turned on by the fact. Turned ON for god's sake!

He threw the blankets to the side and began to shed clothes as he went to the direction of the bathroom. Tomorrow, it would be Monday. He had afternoon shift with Omi. He would be able to sleep in. He didn't need to wake up in the mornings.

He twisted the metal handle and let the cold water soothe into him.

He wondered if Aya would like it if they had sex in the shower.

He wondered if he was going insane.

Instinctively, his hand twisted the handle off and turned on the hot water. Soon, steam enveloped the small space. Youji bit his lip and put his right hand over his groin, left hand braced on the wall to balance himself. With steady movements, he began to move his hand and run it through his slick member.

Unbidden thoughts of Aya came into mind. Of Aya stepping in the shower, replacing Youji's hand with his own. Of Aya fucking him like there was no tomorrow.

It took Youji only a few seconds to climax.

It was going to be a long night. And morning.

*

Aya called the next morning. Youji woke with a startled gasp turned on the cordless phone and listened. It struck him funny that he had only been dreaming of his voice moments ago.

"Don't go to the mission," Aya said tersely.

"I'll fucking do what I fucking want to do," Youji mumbled and turned it off again. He was tired of thinking about Aya, of feeling his touch in his dreams and memory. There had been no noise from the other side of the wall but Youji had barely slept a wink.

So he drew the drapes close once more and closed his eyes, returning to the blessed slumber he had been denied since time he already could not remember.

*

Youji met Aya on his way inside the Koneko. Aya had just finished his shift. The redhead stopped him before he got inside. Youji scowled at him again. "Whatever you're going to say," he muttered angrily, "I'm going."

Aya just stared back at him impassively before speaking: "Tomorrow, we have whole shifts. Omi will handle the deliveries. You handle the flower arrangements."

Youji flushed. "Oh."

Aya frowned and touched his wrist. "You okay?

Quickly, Youji pulled away, and instantly regretted it when he saw Aya stiffen. He crossed his arms. Aya was being un-Aya-like. "Yeah. Just peachy."

Aya nodded and turned away. Youji pushed the door open. Omi was already inside, making a list of orders. He smiled when he entered. "Aya's taking Aya-chan to the dentist. She had an appointment."

"I wasn't asking," Youji told him, a little annoyed. He grabbed an apron from the rack and put it on.

Omi shrugged. "Yeah, well. I just thought you might want to know."

"Did Aya-chan drop by?"

"No. He's picking her up at school." Omi cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. "Hey, Youji, you really haven't been sleeping, haven't you?"

Youji sighed. He wished everyone would just shut up about it. "Yes, Omi. I haven't really been sleeping."

"Is that why Aya's so worried about you?" the boy asked innocently.

The older man paused at the act of tying the apron behind his back, then turned to his friend. "Why do you think that?"

Omi shrugged and returned to arranging flowers. "He brings you home and picks you up. Every time you're gone, he asks where you are." Quickly, efficiently, Omi put together the different-colored ambrosias, mixed with leaves. He had always been a fast worker. "You haven't tried sleeping pills?"

The seat rocked a moment as he balanced himself on it. "They don't help. I still can't sleep." Youji paused as he reached for a basket. "It's my neighbors. They keep me awake."

"Too much noise?"

"Yeah." Youji's voice was flat. He really didn't want to discuss this. He didn't want to remember.

They worked silently for a while, talking only when a customer entered. It was almost three o'clock. The barrage of girls would be arriving soon. They got ready, clearing a place where the girls would most likely trample on and bringing out the usual flowers they loved.

After a while, Omi stared out at the street. "I see the first of them coming."

Youji had to quirk a smile. Omi sounded nervous. "Thank god for simple days," he muttered, standing.

Omi turned to him, palms flat on the window. "Hey, Youji."

"What?" Youji almost barked. He didn't want any more questions.

But Omi only smiled. "Good luck later," he said softly.

And the door opened, accommodating the first of the high school girls who arrived.

*

Ken and Aya arrived at seven, just in time for closing time. The leftover girls greeted them with enthusiastic delight, but the two only returned them half-heartedly. Aya ignored them. Youji waved them goodbye and finally locked the door. Together, the four cleaned up before finally going to the basement.

"So," Aya said.

Some things never changed.

Omi nodded seriously. "I'm ready."

"Me, too," Ken said. He turned to Youji.

The man only grinned. "Let's kick ass."

Aya did not smile back.

*

Axis Co. building was big, but Aya and Youji were able to enter quietly without a problem. The guards were easy to elude, but Omi took care of the infrared system from the roof. Ken was backing him up.

"He just entered room X988," Omi said through the commlink. There was a pause as Youji and Aya tried to locate it. "I think it's a guarded area."

Aya stared at the metal doors and the bar-coded entrance. "Can you disable the code?"

"I'm trying. Give me a minute." Quiet. Then, Omi cursed under his breath. "He moved again. He went further into the room. I'm abandoning this door. Move to the direction I tell you, you'll be able to cut him off."

"Work on it, Bombay," Youji instructed. "Abyssinian, you wait here. If I move to the direction Bombay's talking about, we'll be able to surround him."

"I can't unlock and guide at the same time," Omi complained.

"That's why we have Siberian." Youji began to ease away just as Ken's voice said lightly, "Gotcha!"

Then, a hand was on Youji's sleeve. He turned, surprise. Aya was looking serious. "A--"

Aya reached a hand to his commlink around his head and pressed a button, then reached out to turn off Youji's as well. Then, he leaned forward and stared at Youji's puzzled green eyes. "In case something happens," he murmured, "I want to tell you I'm sorry."

Before Youji could think of anything to say, Aya had leaned forward and kissed him. As usual, Youji was not able to do anything, and it took a moment for his brain to register that Aya had pushed him against the wall hard. Only then did he begin to fight.

Aya pulled away, breathing hard. "I want you so much," he growled. Then, he took off running to the direction Youji was supposed to take.

Youji stared at him. Then, with shaky fingers, he turned on the commlink, in time to hear Omi say frantically, "--big idiots! NEVER turn off the commlink! Youji, Fujikake's doubling back. He's heading your way!"

Youji pulled away from the metal doors in time for it to open, revealing their target.

And he was smiling.

*

"Abyssinian, Balinese isn't moving," came Ken's voice.

Aya muttered curses under his breath as he skidded to a stop. Just as he feared, the commlink was lying on the ground, blinking an ominous red dot over and over again. He looked around. "Is Fujikake using his card again?"

"He went to a lax security area. I lost him five minutes ago." Omi sounded frantic.

Damn, damn, DAMN! Aya took off again, finding the fire exit and pulling it open. "Bombay, check the parking lot."

A second. Then, Omi's shaky breath. "He got off. He's at the second basement parking lot. Don't take the elevator, it's security based. He's parked at S-98 section. Go, go, go!"

"Shut up," Aya snapped, not helping himself.

"I'm coming after you," came Ken's voice. There was a muffled conversation he took with Omi, then Aya could hear footsteps. "Hang on."

"He's fucking taking Youji!" He didn't even use the codename. Aya jumped down the last step and took another lengthy slide. "I fucking told him not to go in his condition!"

"I'm at the eleventh floor," Ken said.

"Shut up and run." Aya pushed the door open and heard the squeal of wheels.

"The right!" Omi shrieked. "It's a blue Sedan!"

Aya whirled around just as he saw something flash ahead of him. Light blinded him. Then, there was a scream of his name: "AYA!"

Calculating the distance by the voice in a matter of half-seconds, Aya jumped in time to fall over the lid of the car. There was a crash and he caught a glimpse of the driver's horrified face before he snatched his katana and slammed it through the driver's seat to the man's neck.

The car swerved out of control and slammed into a post. Doors opened and slammed close. Youji was being held hostage by Fujikake himself. "Move, pretty boy," he snarled, "or I break his pretty little neck." His strong hands were on Youji's jaw and shoulder. A bodyguard beside him was pointing a gun to Youji's abdomen. Surrounding them was a troop of bodyguard.

"You fuck!" Youji said exasperatedly. "He doesn't care!"

Aya glared at them.

"Do you?" Fujikake asked softly. Hands positioned to make a crack. "Do you really not?" There was a snap, then Youji's eyes widened before his head lolled forward.

Then red. Rage blinded Aya and he didn't even know he had drawn his katana forth and was slashing through bodies, blade slicing cleanly through guts and bones. He barely heard the cracking sound of ribs meeting metal, barely heard the door open as Ken ran out and took his share.

Aya was almost to Fujikake's when a body was thrown to him. Without a care, he raised his arms to receive it, only to realize it was Youji. His body was trembling. "Youji," he whispered angrily. "Youji!"

Then, miraculously, Youji twitched and looked up to him, a miniscule smile on his face. "I said," he whispered back, panting heavily, "I'm okay."

Fujikake gave a shriek and Aya felt arms embracing him. With Youji's movement came the laceration of Fujikake's head through the string wrapped around his neck. "Bitch!" the doctor gasped out. "Bitch!" His eyeglasses fell out and blood spurted out from his eyes.

Then, came a voice behind Aya: "Let me."

"Biirman!" Ken exclaimed.

Youji and Aya turned, watching. Biirman stood beside Omi, who was holding his laptop and commlink. Biirman was caressing Omi's weapon. "Hello, Father," she said calmly.

"Bitch," Fujikake rasped again. His eyes was filled with hate.

Biirman smiled ruefully and carefully aimed. "Goodbye, Father."

Youji turned his head away but Aya watched in morbid fascination as the arrow slammed in and through Fujikake's chest. Bones cracked painfully and blood spurted out. The man died instantly, but in his mouth, there was still the curled sneer for his daughter.

Aya touched Youji's left wrist. "You can let go now." Youji shook his head and Aya realized he was weeping. He touched his face. "Youji, let go."

The man disabled the string and let the dead doctor fall onto the floor. Biirman scowled. "Leave me here," she growled.

Omi walked towards them and touched Aya's shoulder. "Let's go," he said, looking tired. "Mission's over."

The four walked away slowly. Although completely unnecessary, Aya kept an arm around Youji's waist, leading him to their vehicle. Once there, the taller man turned to the redhead and dug his hands into his pocket before taking Aya's palm and dropping something there. Aya was surprised. It was Youji's Jeep keys.

"Take me home after this," Youji said in a voice that sounded like a plea.

Aya touched his wrist and nodded.

*

Youji stepped out of the Jeep's passenger seat and waited outside. Aya hesitated, then stepped out as well. "Youji, you don't have to," he started. But Youji immediately turned on his heels and went up to his apartment.

Aya wordlessly followed. As the brown-haired man unlocked his door, Aya tried again. "Youji, don't. Don't do this. I won't be able to handle--"

"Did you," Youji interrupted, eyes still on the doorknob, "ever stop to think if I will be able to handle what you did to me?"

Aya didn't answer.

Youji looked up and stared at him. "Did you, Aya?"

"I wasn't thinking then," Aya told him in his impassive voice.

A pause. Then Youji nodded and gave a small smile. "Don't think now." He pushed the door open.

They did not even enter when Aya growled from deep his throat and pulled Youji towards him. The other man put his arms around his neck and opened his mouth to receive the thrusting tongue, sliding to meet him halfway. The two stumbled inside and Aya kicked the door close, not even pausing from the kiss.

Youji moaned into his mouth, fingers clenching around Aya's shirt. They somehow made it to the bedroom where Aya pushed him to the bed, following suit as he unbuttoned Youji's shirt and pushed the material down his shoulders.

His mouth moved just as Youji turned his head. Aya suckled at his earlobe, flickering his tongue inside and out as Youji whimpered, clutching him and trying to bring him closer.

"Do you want this?" Aya asked against his ear, breath cooling the skin just touched by his tongue. "Do you want this?"

"Need, Aya," Youji groaned, hands entangling with Aya's shining red hair. "I need this."

Aya answered by moving downward, nipping at his neck, biting hard at the tanned skin exposed for him. Bite marks from two nights' ago's fiasco were still there, and the thought made him smile. Youji whimpered again. Aya brought his hand up and roamed around Youji's chest. The man arched to meet his touch and the redhead smiled again.

His nipples hardened at the first touch of Aya's fingers. Moans emerged from his mouth as Aya slipped down and took the other nipple in his mouth, tugging. Hands motioned firmly and tried to push away the redhead's shirt. Aya sat up and removed his shirt, letting Youji stare at him in awe.

"The last time," Youji breathed as Aya moved closer to him again. "The last time, you didn't take your shirt off."

"And you had your pants on," Aya returned, opening his mouth to trace Youji's abdomen.

Youji moaned again, fingernails scraping deliciously on Aya's smooth back. "Do you think...we can both...be naked now?" he panted.

"What do you think?" Aya paused right above Youji's sex, staring at the swollen member crying with small drops of liquid white.

Youji stared at the ceiling. It was only then he felt tears in his eyes. He didn't know why. "I'm not thinking," he whispered.

"Neither am I." And Aya opened his mouth again to take him in. Youji gave a cry and raised his hips to meet the cavernous heat that enclosed around his sex. Writhing to make Aya meet his demands, he began to take a rhythm. His hips clenched and he moaned again, whimpering in pain when Aya pulled back. "Wha--?"

"Youji," Aya growled, staring down at him, "touch me."

The older man swallowed hard, palm resting over Aya's chest, down to his waist, to his hips where the waistband of his jeans lay. Nimble fingers pressed the button and slowly removed it. Aya began to rock his hips to meet his hands, his groin brushing lightly against Youji's knuckles. Quickly, excitedly, Youji began to work off the zipper, pushing it down around the thighs, then his boxers. Aya impatiently pushed them off and kicked them off the bed for less disturbance.

Aya moved to kiss him again but noticed the tears. He frowned. "Why are you crying?"

Youji shook his head and the tears welled again. He smiled and put his arms around Aya. "It doesn't matter." Because I need this.

Youji--

Youji pulled him closer, lips meeting. Don't ask now.

Aya complied, hands slipping around his waist, falling over his buttocks. Youji broke away when Aya's fingers moved into the cracks and he turned his face away, gasping. Aya kissed his neck. "Did I--?"

"No." Youji felt another wash of tears overwhelm him but he had the strangest urge to smile. His fingers fell over Aya's back, sliding smoothly downward to his ass. Aya arched for him, eyes half-closed in ecstasy, meeting his touch as his fingers grazed his crack. A shiver ran down his spine and he felt his member swell into a white-hot pain.

"Aya--"

Aya leaned forward, letting his groin rub against Youji's, evicting a moan from the other. His fingers found the cracks and he nudged Youji's legs apart to adjust to the new sensation. The brunet gasped again as two fingers entered him. Aya rubbed them around, waiting for Youji's reactions before letting a third finger slide in.

Youji was sobbing earnestly. Aya leaned forward and licked his tears away. "Did I--?"

"I told you," Youji cried. "Now, Aya!"

"I don't have lubricant," Aya told him helplessly. "I--I won't hurt you!"

Long arms slipped under the pillow, and before Aya could blink, Youji had thrown a little bottle to his hands. "Use this," he ordered.

Aya peered down. Baby oil. He withdrew his fingers and opened it, fingers trembling with anticipation. As he coated his sex with the liquid, Youji leaned forward and bit his nipple. Aya moaned and arched for him, letting the other man lavish attention to his nipple. Hands were around his waist to pull him closer. Aya replaced the cap and threw it to one corner of the bed.

"Aya?"

Aya gazed at him. Youji lay naked in the moonlight, tanned skin washed by moonlight and moon dust. He smiled as the body beneath him writhed for his touch. He cupped Youji's buttocks and raised him slightly, kneeling between his legs. The sight of Youji panting and staring at him, ready for him, his own member raised in anticipation, made him rock hard and he let three fingers enter again, now slick with oil.

Youji's head threw back, sweat dripping over his face. "Now, Aya!" he gasped. "Now!"

Without waiting for another order, Aya shoved himself forward. Youji gave a cry of pain and fulfillment. Aya's hands gripped his waist to meet him, and he pulled back almost fully before shoving himself inside again, going deeper than he had before. Youji sobbed and screamed his name and he leaned forward, catching Youji's lips to a kiss.

The brunet's rhythm began to catch on. He began to move in time with Aya's thrusts and his right hand found his way towards his own sex, pumping in time as Aya watched, turned on by the sight of Youji pleasuring himself. All of this, Youji watched, green eyes blurred with tears but still keeping sight of the man moving before him to put all of his member inside, frantically burying himself inside him as he moved to sheath him.

Then, Aya shoved his hand away and replaced it with his own. Youji's head fell back and he cried Aya's name over and over until it was all Aya heard, all he'd ever hear for the rest of his life.

Youji gripped his arms and gave a shout as he came all over into Aya's hand. Just in time, Aya gritted his teeth and screamed his name before giving one final thrust inside for release. Youji's muscles instinctively tightened and clamped around his member and Aya shouted again and finally found relief.

*

Aya fell over Youji's body, panting heavily and wiping the sweat away from his face. Youji pulled him closer, lips finding his neck and licking at the dripping sweat and tears that Aya didn't know he shed.

"Now I understand," Aya breathed, closing his eyes.

Youji bit his jaw and licked before asking him, "What?"

"Why you never sleep."

Youji closed his eyes and fell into Aya's waiting arms. "What do you mean?"

"Your neighbors. Your nightmares." Aya stopped, then opened his amethyst eyes to gaze at the figure beside him. "They all combine to make one the morning that you hate the most. Am I right?"

Youji's mouth curled into a small smile. He still did not open his eyes. "How do you know I hate mornings?"

"Because," Aya said, voice still caught in weariness, "you say so in your nightmares."

He stayed behind and listened.

There were no more words, no more speeches. Instead, Aya drew him closer and closed his eyes again, smiling as Youji put his arms around him and snuggled closer. I'll make your mornings worthwhile. I'll make you glad you wake up. Youji.

They caught the edges of the dreams and slept.

*

The knocking stopped when a man in white terrycloth robe opened the door. He was rubbing his purple eyes, still full of weariness. Red hair jutted out from different parts of his head. Despite all this, he managed to glare efficiently at the person outside. "What?"

Eriko Tsuchiya pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose with a sniff. "Is Mr. Youji Kudo here?"

The man blinked, then growled, "Who the fuck are you?"

"His landlady," Tsuchiya snapped.

A figure appeared from behind. Youji Kudo also appeared tired and was also dressed only in terrycloth robe hastily tied at the waste. He put a hand over the man's shoulder. "It's okay, Aya. Go back to bed." He blinked sleepily at the woman. "What is it, Ma'am?"

"Your neighbors," she snapped back. "They came to me complaining of the loud noises coming every night from your bedroom. I suggest you keep them down, Mr. Kudo. You're not the only one living here."

Youji leaned against the doorframe, an amused smile on his face. His hands moved inside his robe's pocket and found a cigarette stick which he trapped between his two lush lips. "I have a better suggestion. Why not have the rooms soundproofed or thickened? That way, the two of us won't be bother our friendly neighbors anymore." He flicked on a lighter and lit his cigarette, then blew smoke into the air before continuing, "Or vice versa."

Tsuchiya looked surprised. He had never heard Kudo complain about the apartment before. She gripped her cane and nodded tersely. "Fine," she said in a clipped voice. "Good day, Mr. Kudo."

"Good morning, Mrs. Tsuchiya," he replied in his pleasant voice, closing the door. But he changed his mind and opened it again. "Oh, and Mrs. Tsuchiya?"

She turned to him. "What?"

"The nice lady downstairs? The one with the kid? Who is she again?"

"Mrs. Umada." She frowned.

Youji Kudo gave her one of his dazzling smiles despite the stick. "She has my laundry. I'm paying her for it. Do you think you can kindly remind her? I have so much to do and you live right next door to her."

Tsuchiya nodded again, unable to answer. From inside, a male voice called, "Youji, we have morning shift."

Youji nodded at her and closed the door.

The white smoke hovered in the morning air and disappeared.

a night like any other
lying in the darkness
the clock tickin time
to your breathing
you turn your back to me
i know you're dreaming
ruby lemon and blue
tangerine green purple
psychedelic
dream in universal color
while i lie awake with
INSOMNIA
eyes a-flutter with REM
flittin butterflies
in your dimension
i hear you
talkin to me
you must be dreaming

~ cynthia alexander "insomnia"