Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Building Our Tomorrow ❯ Disconcerting Discoveries ( Chapter 11 )

AN: I just realized that I've been referring to Ouka as Omi's sister when she is in fact his cousin. It wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that I've written him so that he knows his true parentage. So from here on out, I'll be using cousin, and I plan on going back and changing the other chapters appropriately. It won't be necessary to reread anything as I'll simply be replacing the word `sister' with `cousin'. Review responses have been moved to the end of the chapter.

 

Warnings: Violence, Language

 

Disclaimer: WK is not mine.

 

 

Internal Dialogue

Telepathy

 

Chapter 11

 

After four days of endless and fruitless hours in front of the computer, Omi was definitely in need of a few hours to himself. Tracking down the exact location of Masafumi's lab was proving to be ridiculously difficult; the man had covered his tracks well. There had to have been at least fifty scientific companies, alone, in his holdings, and the archer was beyond frustrated. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back was when Persia, of all people, had actually had the gall to send a message to him stating that he was taking too long and that Weiss needed to hurry up and finish the job. If he doesn't think we're going about it in the right way, he can fucking do it himself. Omi wasn't entirely sure why it was even bothering him as he had never paid heed to the man's criticisms before. I'm definitely working too hard if I'm letting that get to me. With that in mind, the blonde had sought out any teammate he was to come across, letting them know he would be out for a while to clear his head. Yohji, the first one he had seen, had taken one look at the teen's face and said he'd tell the others. I must look at least as exhausted as I feel if he didn't offer me company. I'm thankful for that; I really just need some time to myself.

 

“Omi,” a high pitched voice called out. Turning around and leaning against the railing of the bridge he was on, Omi groaned internally. Is it too much to ask for, for one hour of peace, damn it! The archer was so angered with the current turn of events that he couldn't find it in himself to be afraid of the approaching female as he usually was.

 

“Ouka,” he greeted in a soft monotone as the bluenette stopped to stand next to him. He wasn't about to show his cousin any of his inner rage at her inconvenient appearance; he was, after all, supposed to let her get close to him.

 

“Why are you out here all alone, Omi? And so late?” she asked taking another step forward, somewhat invading his personal space.

 

“Just went for a walk,” he replied, never once gracing her with a direct look from his blue orbs. “I should be asking you the same question,” he added with false concern lacing his voice. “It's not safe for you to be out alone at this time of night.” He was surprised at the sincere tone that he was able to produce considering how foul his mood already was. Then again, I've been pulling this shit on people for years. It's nice not to have to with my teammates anymore, but it's handy when I have to do disgusting jobs like this.

 

“Oh, Omi,” Ouka gushed. “It's so sweet that you're concerned, but really, you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Another step forward and the girl was practically standing on his feet. Using the motion of stretching his arms, the blonde manage to move back a few steps without his true intention of getting away from her being obvious.

 

“So what are you doing out so late, anyway?” he asked, keeping with the game he was playing.

 

“Same as you,” she replied. “I needed some fresh air and decided to take a walk.” She ducked her head and looked up at him through long eyelashes, giving her best attempt at looking bashful. “Now, I'm really glad that I did.” She threw the assassin another coy look, one that caused a wave of revulsion to run down his spine. He just barely held back the reflexive look of disgust that wanted to take hold of his face.

 

“Actually,” she started speaking again. “I've been meaning to ask you something, but you haven't been in the flower shop when I stopped by the past few days.” She was clearly trying to act shy, but he, being who he was, was easily able to see right through the façade. “I hope everything's okay…” she added as an afterthought.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Omi responded as he turned around to once again face the waterfront. “Everything's fine. I've just been busy with a school project.”

 

“That's good to hear,” Ouka stated, once again edging closer to the handsome seventeen year old.

 

“So what was it you wanted to ask?” he turned ever so slightly to put more space between him and the bluenette.

 

“Right!” the girl exclaimed at the reminder of her previous words. “I wanted to know if you would attend my father's fundraiser with me… as my date… It's two weeks from Friday.” She had apparently forgotten to play the shy schoolgirl as she had done only moments before.

 

“Date?” the blonde squeaked. He certainly hadn't forgotten his role; the archer even managed to force a slight blush onto his face. It actually wasn't that hard as he brought the image of his nude lover to mind. Clearing his throat, Omi began his response while the girl tapped her foot impatiently. “I don't think I'll be able to attend, Ouka. I've too much work to do, what with school and the flower shop.” It wasn't a lie, exactly; he'd only omitted two things, after all. One: his night job would be occupying most, if not all, of his time for the next several months, and two: he absolutely had no intention of ever going on a date with this girl - his cousin - unless Crawford told him to do so. It was one thing to lead the bitch on, but it was in an entirely different realm of possibility that had him actually dating her, genetics or not.

 

“I'm sure your friends wouldn't mind if you took some time to yourself,” she tried to convince him. Not that there was anything she could say that would do so.

 

“I don't know,” he left it open for now. “We'll see,” he added. There was no point in flat out refusing her for the time being, and his answer seemed to satisfy her temporarily. “I should probably head home now,” Omi stated as he pushed himself away from the railing. “It was nice talking to you.” Ouka latched onto his right arm just as he started to walk away.

 

“I walk with you,” she gave him her brightest smile, the one that had all the guys at her school drooling over her. Omi forced away the cringe that her touch brought and resigned himself to having the girl attached to him for the fifteen minutes it would take for him to reach the Koneko. He nearly shuddered as he felt her lust for him rise and prayed to every god he could think of, and some he wasn't sure existed, so to speak, that she didn't try to kiss him or anything to that effect. At least she wasn't trying to talk to him for the moment, though it probably meant that she was plotting something.

 

Omi? Nagi's mental voice washed over him like a calming wave. Hey Nagi, he replied. What's wrong? I've been getting distressing feeling from you for the past twenty minutes. His lover's concern brought a warmth to his whole being, replacing the chill that Ouka's presence had brought about. Ouka. She ran into me while I was out trying to clear my head. Now, she's insisting on walking home with me. I had wanted to get away for awhile… you know, have some alone time. And now I'm even more pissed off than before I left the shop. Understanding from his boyfriend wrapped around him like a warm blanket in the winter. She's not trying anything, is she? If their bond wasn't so strong, Omi might have thought the telekinetic sounded jealous, but he could feel the genuine concern in Nagi's question. Nothing really. She's just attached herself to my arm. I'm more worried that she might try something once we get to the Koneko. I'm not in the mood to play this game right now, and I might end up killing her, which would most likely ruin at least some of Crawford's visions. For a few minutes, his lover didn't respond, and he almost began to worry until the brunette spoke up again. It's safe to say you can't kill her just yet, but you won't have to worry about anything happening tonight. The blonde sent a mental hug to his boyfriend, assuming he had questioned the precog about his current predicament. Feeling more secure in the situation, the lovers bid each other a goodnight as they would be meeting up the next evening.

 

“Here we are,” the cerulean eyed teen spoke up as they approached the Koneko. Upon closer inspection, Omi noticed a familiar form juggling a soccer ball near the front gate. He felt the disappointment build in Ouka as she noticed Ken's presence as well. So she was going to try something, he thought, suspicions confirmed.

 

“Goodnight, Omi,” the bluenette flashed a brilliant smile that left him in the throws of nausea.

 

“Goodnight,” the archer replied, squashing the urge to sprint the last ten feet to where Ken was standing and watching the scene. As soon as the girl was out of sight, he walked up to his friend and sagged against the metal gate.

 

“Thank all the gods you were out here,” Omi's voice held infinite gratitude and relief. “Your need to kick the ball around saved me from having to deal with that thing any longer than I already had.” The brunette chuckled and shook his head.

 

“It's no coincidence I was out here,” Ken informed the archer. At the questioning blue gaze, he elaborated. “Nagi had Schu relay a message that your stalker was `following' you home and that it would probably be a good idea if someone was out here.”

 

“That's an understatement,” the blonde muttered. “At least I won't have to wash out my mouth with battery acid, though. I'm convinced she was going to try to kiss me once we got here.” Pushing himself to a more upright position, he headed for the back of the building, Ken following him. “Thanks for assist,” he smiled back at the soccer fanatic while opening the door.

 

“No problem,” Ken's face mirrored the expression as they entered the building for night.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

The area Aya was scouring had been marked off so that only the authorities would be permitted to enter. Earlier that night, one of Masafumi's genetic monstrosities had been killed - gunned down; from what they had heard, at least three members of the police force had died in the process and several more had been injured. When Manx had informed them of this latest development, they had decided that the swordsman would wait until the commotion had died down then go see if there were any traces of where the creature may have come from.

 

Slipping by the sole person providing the security for the scene had been laughingly easy for him, and he knew the same held true for the other man watching from the shadows. Farfarello was also there, but his purpose for showing up was not the same as the crimson haired man's. Apparently, there hadn't been nearly enough confrontations between Weiss and Schwartz recently, and Crawford wanted to remedy that situation lest the Elder's become suspicious. It wouldn't do for them to been seen as though there was some sort of truce between the two groups, and it was a safe bet that the precogs loyal to Esset had already witnessed their impending `battle'. Their mock fight wouldn't start for a while though, so Aya was free to continue his search for the time being. The one-eyed man was staying close enough so that they could converse in whispers while remaining undetected. At the moment they were discussing who would get to injure whom in their planned altercation.

 

“Obviously we can cause one another any serious damage,” Aya's voice was low, though if one listened closely a hint of humor could be detected. He found it rather amusing that they were discussing the best way to draw each other's blood, as did Farfarello.

 

“Agreed,” the white haired man replied from somewhere to his right. “I suggest we target only arms and legs as there's less chance of mistakenly hitting something vital.”

 

“And in no way should we cripple the other's ability to use a weapon,” the violet-eyed assassin would not tolerate any hindrance when it came to wielding his katana.

 

“You're right han…” the Irishman trailed off, his movements completely stilling. Noticing the change, Aya crouched down near his position as if inspecting some clue on the ground. The alley way they were in was completely silent save for the sound of the wind as it blew flimsy pieces of trash by them.

 

“One of us is being watched,” the swordsman's head was bent, his slightly longer hair masking the movement of his lips and his words only detected by the intended ears.

 

“It's someone from Kritiker,” was the hissed reply. If he hadn't known what to listen for, the redhead might have thought the sound to be a stray cat that had been startled by something. Not wanting to appear as though he were up to something, Aya stood and continued down the alley, Farfarello's silent movements as he shadowed the swordsman completely unnoticed by the Kritiker agent. A few minutes later, the crimson haired assassin spotted something covered in dried blood. Bending down, he saw that it was a tag of some sort, and determining that it might be what he had been looking for in the first place, he pocketed it.

 

“I'm finished here,” he whispered, knowing the golden-eyed man would hear and take it as a signal to begin their fight. On cue, the Irishman stepped out of the shadows, a thoroughly insane look plastered on his face to keep up appearances.

 

“The Weiss kitten's all alone tonight,” he said in an eerie singsong voice as he licked his pike. “God will cry as I plunge my blade into one of his avenging angels.”

 

“Schwartz,” Aya growled, hand immediately finding the hilt of his katana. Faster than humanly possible, the sword was drawn and blocking the extended version of Farfarello's weapon. The woman from Kritiker watched from a darkened corridor in the alley as the two men struck out at one another in what appeared to be a fierce battle. Despite all of Omi's efforts to cover for his team, Persia was becoming suspicious of Weiss, especially the one he knew as Abyssinian. He had expected the twenty year old assassin to have lashed out by now, do something that would compromise his status in the assassin group thus giving the younger Takatori some leverage over him. So far, though, nothing had come up, and the head of Kritiker was beginning to wonder if he would ever get anything on the man that would force him to become as much of a puppet as needed for future ventures. Persia had even become somewhat suspicious of the other three, who he'd always thought were under his absolute control.

 

When Manx had approached him with the file on Fujimiya saying that he would be the perfect fourth addition to Weiss, he had jumped on the opportunity. The description of the young man had fulfilled his desire to have someone completely consumed by hatred of his brother in his service; he would use that rage and mold the young swordsman into the perfect tool for his own purposes. This man, he thought, would become his son's equivalent to Manx when he finally took over the organization. However, for the past few weeks, he had noticed something was not right with his perfect soldier, and Persia decided to send people that not even Manx knew about to follow the man. Hence, the reason for the woman currently watching as the swordsman sliced into the skin of the scarred man's arm. Said man didn't even flinch as the red substance stained the concrete near his feet. Instead, the man that had been referred to as `Schwartz' let out a laugh that made her blood run cold.

 

She observed as the white haired man retaliated by throwing a knife that sank into the swordsman's thigh eliciting a grunt of pain, though no other signs of discomfort could be seen. Unbeknownst to her, the blade had not penetrated his flesh nearly as deeply as she thought it had. The one known to her only as Abyssinian pulled the bloodied metal from his leg and returned the favor; still the one-eyed man showed no signs of having felt anything as the blade struck his own leg. He simply removed the knife and hid it somewhere on his person, opting to tackle the swordsman to the ground. Words passed between the two struggling men, words that she never even knew sounded as the view of their mouths was blocked and voices hushed.

 

“Schuldig is nearby,” Farfarello whispered as Aya feigned a kick making it look as though he was trying to knock the Irishman from atop him. For his part, Farfarello was lightly trailing a blade across his face without breaking any skin. “He looked into the mind of your shadow. It seems that she's been sent by Persia himself to spy on you as your not living up to his expectations.”

 

“What a pity,” he spat, his amethyst eyes shining with contempt. “He can't find a way to control me, I assume?” The two made token efforts to appear as though they were still fighting even as they continued on.

 

“It's not like we didn't already know that he planned to manipulate you,” the scarred man put in. “But it would seem he's catching on to your subtle defiance of his plans faster than we thought.” Aya gave a minute nod of agreement.

 

“I can't kill her,” he stated. “It would be all too obvious were I to use my katana on her.”

 

“Agreed,” Farfarello tilted his head appearing as though he had heard something. “It seems we have a visitor,” he raised his voice so that the Kritiker agent would hear him. “Act as if your wounds prevent you from getting up until Schuldig signals you,” he whispered. In the next instant, the white haired man had the woman by the neck, forcing her out into the open. At the same time, Aya made to stand using his sword as support and only pushing himself onto his knees.

 

“It seems the little kitty cat has a shadow,” the presumed psychopath's voice was sickeningly sweet. “What ever shall I do with you? I'm sure your suffering would rain God's beautiful tears of sorrow down on us.” The woman gulped in air as he released her throat, moving to hold her in position befitting a hostage, knife dangerously near her neck.

 

“I work for Persia,” she called to the swordsman; the woman's eyes pleaded with Aya to help her. She can't communicate with anyone right now, so feel free to drop the act, he heard the telepath in his mind. The crimson haired assassin shot the woman a sadistic smile and stood up, replacing the katana back in its sheath. Her eyes widened in shock and anger.

 

“He was right,” she accused knowing she was about to die and no longer caring. “You've betrayed Kritiker.” Aya merely shrugged and slowly walked forward, stopping directly in front of her and the grinning Irishman.

 

“I can't betray an organization that never had my loyalty,” his tone was even. Tilting his head to look into a single golden eye, he spoke again. “I've got to get what I found back to Omi.”

 

“What should I do with her?” the gleam in his eye had never left; he already knew what the answer was.

 

“I couldn't care less,” Aya replied in a scathing tone as he glared at the Kritiker spy. “Have fun,” he replied in voice that made the woman tremble in fear as he brushed by the two. Upon leaving the alley, he could clearly hear the muffled screams of the woman whose body he was certain the Irishman was mutilating. We'll have to be more careful from now on, he thought. Persia was surely going to be watching him, if not all of them, very closely from now on.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

“What the hell happened to you?” Yohji asked as a slightly worn Aya trudged into the kitchen, presumably having returned from his information hunt. The minor injuries he had received from Farfarello were no longer bleeding, but they were aching somewhat.

 

“Had to fight with Farfarello,” was the simple reply. “That's not important right now, though. There's something we all need to discuss. Where are the others?” The blonde let his emerald eyes assess his friend's condition, determining that he had only a few small cuts and was slightly bruised, before answering.

 

“Omittchi went out for a bit,” the former playboy informed him. “Something about needing some air or something. Ken just stepped out a few minutes ago.” The redhead nodded.

 

“I'm going to clean up, then,” he turned to the stairs as he said this. “Let me know when they're both here.”

 

“No problem,” Yohji waved him off even as he fumble for his lighter, intent on inhaling the precious nicotine his blood was craving. No sooner had the echoing of Aya's footsteps disappeared did the two youngest appear in the back entrance to the kitchen.

 

“Not in the kitchen, Yotan,” Omi's azure glare was half-hearted, and he didn't even attempt to snatch the glowing stick from his teammate's fingers, surprising the ex-detective.

 

“I thought you were going out to get rid of some of the stress,” the older blonde was concerned. If anything, the archer looked more haggard than when he had left.

 

“It's kind of hard to escape for awhile when one of your problems drops in your lap,” the younger blonde's tone was full of weariness as he seated himself at the table. Yohji looked at him curiously, but the teen didn't see as his face was currently hidden by his hands.

 

“He ran into Ouka while he was out,” the brunette elaborated when he noticed the confusion on the nicotine addict's face. “Then she insisted on walking back with him; she probably would have tried something had I not been outside waiting.”

 

“Quite the coincidence,” Yohji supplied dryly, suspecting that there was more to it than that.

 

“Not so much,” Omi's voice was muffled before he dropped his hands to the table's surface and looked up. “I had been talking to Nagi on the way back, and he had Schu tell Ken to wait for me in front of the shop.”

 

“Figured as much,” the wire wielding assassin paused to take a long drag from the nearly finished cigarette before putting it out. “By the way,” he started. “Aya's back, and he wants to talk to all of us about something. Said it was important and to let him know when you two were back.”

 

“I'll get him,” Ken volunteered, moving towards the steps. “Is he upstairs?”

 

“Yeah,” the ex-detective replied. “Probably in the bathroom cleaning up his wounds.” Two shades of blue sent him sharp looks at hearing that.

 

“What happened?” Omi demanded, all thoughts of his current predicament replaced by worry for his teammate.

 

“It's nothing to worry about,” Yohji replied casually. “I think he had to `fight' Farfarello earlier. He'll probably explain everything when we're all together.”

 

“Fine,” the archer sighed, accepting the explanation even as Ken went to find the swordsman. “We'll be downstairs,” he added before the former goalie was out of earshot. Saying that, both he and Yohji stood and headed to the basement of the Koneko, joined by Ken and Aya shortly thereafter. The hacker took his usual place by the computer while Yohji and Ken made themselves comfortable on the couch. Atypically, Aya pulled a chair to the center of the room and sat in it rather than leaning against the wall. Three sets of eyes looked to the scarlet haired man expectantly.

 

“Three things,” he started, immediately jumping to the reason they were gathered. “First, I found something at the scene where the police killed Masafumi's experiment.” He pulled the blood-stained slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Omi. “You can check into later; the rest of what I have to say is something you all need to be aware of.”

 

“Keep going,” the brunette prodded.

 

“Crawford sent Farfarello to accompany me tonight,” he stated, though it came as no surprise as the others were already aware that the two had fought. “It seems that we're going to have to be fighting with them more often now or Esset will become suspicious. And after what happened tonight, I believe Kritiker, or rather Persia, will as well.”

 

“What,” Yohji drawled. “Did someone from Kritiker see you with Farf?” He had been joking knowing that both men were much smarter than that, but look in Aya's eyes quickly changed his attitude.

 

“Yes,” was the crisp reply. “Schuldig was around somewhere, and he got into her head. He found out that Persia sent her to watch me. Apparently, he's not satisfied with my progress.”

 

“In other words,” Ken interjected. “His plan to mold you into Manx's replacement isn't going as smoothly as he'd hoped.”

 

“Exactly,” the redhead confirmed. “I don't think he realizes that any of you are as far out of his reach,” he turned his violet gaze to the archer. “Especially you, Omi, but I don't think we can take any chances. Farfarello killed the spy, but Persia will undoubtedly send another one to replace her once he learns of her unfortunate death.”

 

“I'm going to have to change what I put in the reports,” Omi looked thoughtful. “It seems to me that he would prefer it if you were the mindless revenge machine that your file makes you out to be, so…” the blonde teen trailed off as the idea whirled around in his head. “Okay, so embellish the `Takatori! Die!' when I make mentions of Aya.”

 

“I've been wondering something for awhile, now,” Yohji spoke up. “Persia is basically grooming the two of you to take over his and Manx's positions, right?” The question was rhetorical so he continued on without waiting for the reply. “What I want to know is how he would ever expect the Aya who despises all things Takatori to eventually follow one without question.” Omi shrugged.

 

“I don't know,” the archer replied. “I never asked Crawford, but I assume Persia is trying to set into motion certain events that would make it so that, whether or not Aya found out about my former identity, he would trust me implicitly - no matter how inhuman I may have become.”

 

“Does he really have that much influence?” Ken asked.

 

“You saw the file on Hanae Kitada,” the hacker replied darkly. “What do you think?” The brunette nodded his understanding.

 

“Is he likely to have someone watching all of us?” Yohji's mouth formed the question around his cigarette.

 

“It's possible,” Omi admitted. “I would know immediately if anyone was following me closely enough to gather any kind of information, but the rest of you might not notice right away.”

 

“Regardless,” Aya added his opinion. “We'll have to be more alert, especially during missions. Even if I'm the only one with a shadow, they would easily be able to find out anything on any of us when we're together.”

 

“Which means we have to limit our contact with the others as well,” the former playboy sounded resigned even though he knew it would have eventually come to this, anyway.

 

“We'll still be able to communicate with them, though,” Ken tapped his head indicating that Schuldig would be able to speak with any of them should the need arise, not to mentions Omi's constant contact with Nagi via their telepathic link.

 

“You know it's not the same,” the archer sighed, and Ken had to agree. He would certainly miss being able to hang out with Nagi, as rarely as those occasions had presented themselves due to their already precarious situation. And it has to be at least twice as hard on Omi and Yohji.

 

“I'm going upstairs,” the older blonde broke into the depressed silence eating at the four men in the room; even Aya in all his detached glory would feel the loss of separation from people he'd known scarcely a few weeks.

 

“I'll join you,” the former soccer player rose from the couch with Yohji. The redhead didn't say anything but made a move to stand, as well. He cast a glance at the archer who seemed to have no intention of leaving; rather he was looking rather intently at the reddened paper Aya had brought back.

 

“Don't overwork yourself,” he cautioned the young man in a soft voice as the others disappeared up the stairs.

 

“I'll be fine,” Omi assured him. With one last, skeptical look thrown over his shoulder, he left to the sound of the computer humming as it was started up.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

“I really haven't been missing this,” Omi groaned quietly to Yohji. They had just finished with the first rush of obnoxious fangirls and were preparing to take the short lapse in screaming for all it was worth.

 

“I take it you'd rather be sitting in front of the computer like a zombie,” the former playboy teased before taking on a more serious expression. “Dealing with all this noise may be annoying, but really, you haven't stopped researching for four days straight save your walk last night, and we all know what wonders that did for your mood.” The archer wasn't paying attention to his friend's words, though. As the older blonde followed the blue eyed gaze, he realized why Omi had tuned him out, shoulders tensed ever so slightly. Just great, Yohji thought bitterly. That persistent bitch is here. I should have realized she'd show up; she comes in everyday asking about him.

 

“Omi,” Aya called out, having also noticed Ouka's entrance and exactly to whom she heading. “Can you come over here for minute?” Turning his attention to the crimson haired man, Omi nodded while Yohji intercepted the bluenette. Though the hacker was becoming more able to force down his irrational fear in the girls presence, he was still uncomfortable whenever she was around. After the previous night's encounter, he really wasn't up to dealing with her and was eternally grateful at Aya's perceptiveness.

 

“I need you to go to the stockroom and take inventory for the rest of the day,” the violet-eyed man informed him as he approached. In the background they could hear the ex-detective talking the clearly impatient girl's ears off.

 

“Of course,” the archer smiled in thanks. “We can't have you leaving your precious register for such a tedious task.” He knew Ouka was near enough to hear what they were saying and played up the normal teasing of the swordsman's miser ways, all the while giving a viable excuse as to why the blonde teen would be the one to take care of the tedious job when Aya was perfectly capable. Of course, neither Yohji nor Omi missed the fact that they never took inventory; that was generally left to whoever Kritiker had hired to deal with the trivial tasks that they didn't have time for given their night jobs.

 

“Yotan, would you mind taking over the arrangement I was working on?” he asked over his shoulder as he opened the door to the stockroom that they typically ducked into for breaks from their many admirers.

 

“No problem, Omittchi,” came the reply. The teen scowled playfully at the nickname and was about to say something in retaliation when the shrill voice of the one person he did not want to hear interrupted.

 

“Omi,” Ouka's high-pitched voice drowned out all the girls that were once again piling into the shop. The teen paused with one foot in the doorway and turned to her with his most convincing smile plastered on. I never realized how much faking a smile hurt until she started coming around.

 

“Yes, Ouka?” his voice raised in question - or was that irritation. It wasn't difficult to tell that it was the latter given the tightness in his face that even some of the more frequent customers seemed to take notice of.

 

“Omi,” Aya's voice boomed with authority. “Stop wasting time and get to work.” Another save from the man that came off as a cold, but sexy, bastard.

 

“Right,” the teen's face relaxed. He flashed a grateful smile at the redhead before returning his attention to his stalker. “I can't talk right now, Ouka. Maybe another day.” How he had managed to pull off the embarrassed, hopeful tone was beyond the two keeping an eye on the situation. Aya could only lower his head to hide the impressed smile that graced his lips at the younger blonde's acting skills even as said teen entered the stockroom without waiting for any sort of response, closing and locking the door behind him. Damn but he's good at that, Yohji thought.

 

“Will it take him long to finish?” the bluenette shook the blonde from his thoughts. “I was really hoping to get a chance to talk to him today.”

 

“Sorry, Ouka,” the former playboy didn't even try to sound the least bit concerned with the `predicament' she apparently thought she was in. “That inventory will probably last him until after closing.” The young woman gave an audible sigh.

 

“That's too bad,” her voice was dripping with disappointment, though Yohji assumed it was more because she wasn't getting her way and not because she thought Omi would be stuck counting whatever they actually kept back there. “I was hoping that he'd give me a definite answer about the party.” She turned her eyes to the lanky blonde. “He hasn't mentioned anything to you, has he?”

 

“I can't say that he has,” Yohji replied, somewhat confused as to what the bluenette was talking about. Omi didn't mention anything about a party when he came in last night.

 

“Oh,” there was that disappointment again, though it was a complete mystery as to how she could make the single word sound so condescending at the same time, as if it was beneath her to even be speaking to Yohji. “I'll just have to ask him tomorrow,” she flashed one of her famous smiles before turning on her heal and marching out the door. Yohji didn't have time to think about that, though; now that whatever drama all the fangirls thought was going on had finished, he and Aya were once again swamped. At the next available opportunity, they had every intention of retrieving the pyro from the stockroom. It just wouldn't do for the teen to miss out on all the `good times'. Of course, neither Aya nor Yohji would find such an opportunity as their scarlet haired Kritiker contact made her way into the Koneko, piercing them with her green gaze and nodding in the direction of the basement, easily slipping through the crowd and disappearing through the back.

 

“I'll get Omi,” Yohji stated as he removed his apron. As he moved to the stockroom, keys in hand, Aya's stern voice could be heard informing the single customer and dozens of fangirls that they were closing early. Guess Momoe's not around, he thought idly as he turned the key in the lock.

 

“Mission,” the one word had the azure-eyed teen on his feet and out the door. Ten minutes later, the shop was empty and the gate closed.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

The three assassins and Manx's made their way downstairs, startling Ken momentarily from the research he was doing in Omi's place. The surprise in his eyes quickly faded only to be replaced by annoyance at seeing the green-eyed woman. They can't possibly want us to work on another mission when we haven't gotten to Masafumi, yet.

 

“I'm not here to giving you another mission,” the woman seemed to have understood the look from the brunette. Her statement didn't make them any less tense; a non-mission related visit could only mean more complications. As Aya took his customary position against the wall, Yohji lit a cigarette and slumped onto the couch with Omi while Ken turned in his chair at the computer. Manx chose to perch on the end of the couch.

 

“I take it Persia found out about his dead agent,” the swordsman's flat tone caught Manx of guard.

 

“Then you already know…” she was at a bit of a loss. She wasn't even sure what the agent had been doing in the alley considering she wasn't a field operative. She pursed her lips before speaking again. “Do I need to know about this?” she asked.

 

“Probably,” Omi intoned. “Persia's spying on us… Or Aya, at least.” The information didn't surprise Manx as much as she thought it should have, but then again, things had completely changed in the last several days.

 

“And why is that?” she wanted to know. “There's nothing in the reports that should indicate he's anything but competent.”

 

“That's precisely the problem,” the crimson haired man spoke up. “I'm not playing into his hands. He has nothing with which to control me.”

 

“Are you so sure about that?” Apparently Ken had thought of an angle that they hadn't. “Isn't your sister in Kritiker's care?”

 

“Yes,” Aya answered slowly. “But that's not the kind of leverage he wants,” he said after thinking it over. “If he tries to use her against me, then he will breed nothing but contempt from me.”

 

“Then what exactly is it?” Manx questioned. “You've taken every mission, none of which have failed. There shouldn't be a problem.”

 

“Obviously,” Yohji interjected as he blew out a stream of smoke. “There is one.”

 

“I think,” Omi began. “I think Persia's been watching you for longer than we suspect.” There was a muted rage burning in his eyes as he gave an idea that was forming a little more thought. “He wants you to be completely devoted to your revenge against Takatori Reiji, and you haven't been nearly as single-minded lately. I know we talked about this last night, and I said I would change what I put in the reports, but I don't think I should.”

 

“It will seem to obvious,” the former soccer player realized, voicing his thoughts aloud. “It would give away the fact that we suspect something.” He sighed and looked down at his hands. “So what do we do?”

 

“We play along,” the swordsman stated then turning to look at the archer. “He probably knows that you've been doctoring the reports, if your guess is correct and he has been keeping an eye on me for longer than just the past few days.”

 

“Then it's likely that we're all being watched…” he trailed off as he thought of something else. “If that's true, though, then why haven't I picked anything up empathically? I mat not be a strong empath, but I'm always picking up something from non-talents. For that matter, why hasn't Schu gotten anything when he's with Yohji or when we're all together? Same with Nagi.”

 

“Is it possible that Persia has been having his agents undergoing some kind of mental training?” Yohji asked. “Like how Schu's been showing Aya and Ken how to build barriers when he can?” That was an undeniably unsettling thought and something that not even Crawford had considered.

 

“How would he have known, though?” Manx questioned. “If he's been watching you for as long as it seems, he would have had to known long before Schwartz ever came into the picture. I mean learning something like that is more than just a day's worth of work.”

 

“We're missing something…” Aya thought aloud. “Is it possible that he knew about your talent, Omi?” The young blonde shook his head.

 

“I doubt it,” he replied before his eyes widened as something dawned on him. “Unless…” He trailed off, cerulean orbs glazing over as he lost himself in the memory of the first time his pyrokinesis manifested.

 

“Unless what?” the ex-detective prompted, lighting his fourth cigarette since they had started talking. The teen shook his head slightly and returned to what he was saying.

 

“He killed my mother the same night that I nearly burned down the park near our house,” he paused as he went over it again in his mind. “That's just too much of a coincidence; he must have seen. How could I be so stupid as to not realize this before!” His tone was harsh and full of self-recrimination.

 

“You don't even know if that's true or not,” Ken spoke up. “Besides, you're not the only one who didn't draw that conclusion.” Manx and Yohji nodded their agreement.

 

“It doesn't matter at this point, anyway,” Aya put in. “However he found out, assuming that he even knows, is beside the point. The fact is that we're going to have to be very careful. Pay more attention to our surroundings. Whoever that agent was last night, I got lucky that Schuldig was around. Otherwise, we may never have known why she was there, which would put our plans into jeopardy.”

 

“Let me know what you decide to do,” Manx requested as she stood. “I've been gone far too long for me to have been reporting the death of an agent as it is.” She walked up the stairs. “Be careful,” she added without looking back.

 

“I hate to bring even more into this,” the former goalie started. “But I've managed to get some information on our current mission.”

 

“How's that bad?” the older blonde asked with a raised eyebrow. The others had similar expressions on their faces. It should have been a good thing that they were finally getting somewhere with it.

 

“Well,” Ken began. “I found the name of the company where he's been holing up - Korin Corps. That's not the problem, though. It seems that the monster the police killed last night wasn't the only one Masafumi release.” He paused to glance back at the computer screen. “Another victim was returned to the city, as well. The thing is, this guy hasn't changed, yet… At least not that I can tell.”

 

“So before we go after Masafumi, we have to subdue this other `experiment', one way or another,” Omi concluded, frustration and exhaustion evident in his voice. “This is just getting better and better. Fuck it all; I really need some sleep.” No one disagreed with the sentiment; none of them had taken more than three hours a night to rest, and they had all been seriously considering just driving a stake through Persia's black heart, consequences be damned.

 

“We can plan the mission tomorrow evening,” Aya was not merely suggesting the course of action. “Since the shop is closed for the rest of the day and we're not open tomorrow, we can be lazy for once.” Even the scarlet haired assassin had his limits, and he had most assuredly reached them if he was promoting any amount of procrastination.

 

“I'm all for that,” the older blonde added his opinion. “Too bad we can't meet up with the others for awhile.” No one missed the implication that it was too bad he couldn't meet up with a certain German telepath for awhile.

 

“That reminds me,” Omi muttered. “I have to let Nagi know we won't be able to get together tonight.” They watched as azure slipped shut for a couple of minutes, most likely having a conversation with his boyfriend. “Alright,” he said once he was finished. “I'm going to take a nap before dinner.” That sounded like the best idea any of them had, had in weeks, and following his lead, everyone headed up the stairs stopping only to make sure that everything was locked up tightly. They even activated certain security measures they had taken in order to prevent any Kritiker agents from entering the building; they were that determined to sleep.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

The whole thing was going downhill. They had tracked down the second of Masafumi's creations only to find him already completely transformed. The only difference between this creature and the previous one was that this one seemed to have maintained some level of self-awareness. The former human had refused to admit what he had become and took off, much as any scared animal would. It had taken them about twenty minutes to catch up with him, and the only reason they had even managed to do so, for he was insanely fast, was because of the four woman who were currently cornering the severely wounded beast in a secluded part of a local park. These women weren't all that different from the four approaching assassins in the sense that they also wielded atypical weaponry.

 

“Who are you,” the iciness in Aya's voice had no effect on this new group, but they answered nonetheless.

 

“Schreient,” came the clipped reply from one of the three blue haired women. She seemed to have red eyes, eyes that reflected contempt at the intrusion.

 

“What is it with German names…” Yohji muttered offhandedly never once removing his jade orbs from the one with a visor. She seems… familiar somehow.

 

“You have no business here,” the blonde spoke up. “So why don't you be good little boys and leave.” Her voice was seduction personified though none of the men paid her any attention. This in and of itself angered her. Next to her, a young girl with an umbrella giggled.

 

“Looks like we're going to have to fight them,” Ken stated unnecessarily as he released his blades from the confines of his gloves. Omi and Yohji already had there respective weapons in hand while Aya was waiting for Schreient to make the first move before drawing his sword. In a way, the whole thing was absurd; they already knew where Masafumi was hiding, and they were planning to kill the mutant themselves. Something was off, though, and they knew that these women were their enemies.

 

The whip wielding blonde was the first to lash out, striking at Ken who managed to dodge just before being hit. After that, everything became a chaotic whirl of motion. Omi was facing of against the one who kept referring to herself as `Tot', and Yohji was confronted by the silent women whom he had recognized on some level. Aya fought the remaining member of Schreient, using his sword to deflect the shuriken she threw at him.

 

Neither side ever really gained the upper hand. The one that Tot had called Schoen managed to wrap the end of her whip around Ken's arm at one point, but he sliced thought it with his bugnuks making the weapon useless. Somewhere along the way, the one named Hel had successfully disarmed Aya, and they were currently trading kicks and punches. Yohji was having trouble effectively utilizing his wire against the fourth, Neu, and they were soon fighting in the same manner.

 

Omi's fight with Tot was going a bit differently than the others. His empathy was picking up a variety of conflicted emotions from the aqua haired girl. For her part, she seemed to be throwing only half-hearted attacks his way with the umbrella that turned out to have a blade at its tip. The archer had quickly replaced his poisoned darts for those containing mild tranquilizers. He wasn't sure why, but his opponent seemed to be wavering between her loyalty to her `papa', as she called their employer, and not wanting to harm Omi. Maybe if we can figure out who these women work for, we can find out what he's doing to make her so confused. I can tell she doesn't want to be doing this.

 

“We have to leave,” Hel called out to her team while backing away from Aya after having pressed what could only have been an earpiece to her head. “Masafumi wants us to return immediately.” As quickly as the battle had escalated, it ended, the men known as Weiss standing somewhat dumbfounded as Schreient disappeared into the night.

 

“Well shit,” Omi muttered, annoyed. Not only were they likely to face these women again, but his plan to help the seemingly struggling girl had just become that much more difficult.

 

“That about sums it up,” Yohji agreed, though he couldn't share the archer's reasons. He was more concerned with determining what it had been about that woman. Who is Neu? He wondered. And why do I feel like I know her?

 

“What do we do about him?” Ken was pointing at the now dead man-turned-beast.

 

“Kritiker can deal with it,” Aya replied.

 

“They're probably already on their way, anyway,” the youngest stated softly enough so that only his teammates could hear him. “We need to get back so I can report this to Kritiker and plan for the real mission,” he raised his voice for the benefit of any of Persia's spies that may be lurking about, already having `felt' the presence of someone other than the eight who had been occupied with fighting.

 

“I say the first thing we do when we get back is have a nice, stiff drink,” the lanky blonde was deadly serious, and the others couldn't help but give their silent consent as they began the long walk to their vehicles. Things just kept piling higher and higher in their already infinitely complicated lives.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

“How did we not know about this Schreient group?” Schuldig looked up from his dinner to question Crawford.

 

“Masafumi has apparently done extremely well in hiding their existence from everyone,” the precog replied. “Had I known of them, I could have had either you or Nagi warn the others not to waste their time going after the second experiment.”

 

“It works out better this way,” Nagi put in. “They got to see the strength of those they'll be fighting to get to Masafumi.” He took a sip of his tea before continuing. “You said yourself that Schreient's involvement won't have any adverse effects on our plans.”

 

“No,” the American conceded the point. “But it will add certain, more immediate, complications.”

 

“And will his highness give us any indication of what these complications might be?” the telepath's voice was mocking, fully expecting a negative response; as predicted, the American gave Schuldig his patented glare.

 

“What do you think?” Farfarello supplied sarcastically before putting some food into his mouth.

 

“The three of you will be encountering them in the morning,” Crawford surprised everyone by giving them that bit of information. “You will need to make sure that one them stays alive; she has become important to our future.”

 

“Which one?” the telekinetic was curious. From Omi's description of them late last night, he couldn't see any one of them could be of benefit to their cause. Crawford's gold eyes gazed intently into his cobalt eyes.

 

“You will know when you see her,” was the only other detail he would give out. I wonder… Nagi let that thought slide in favor of listening to the rest of the impromptu discussion of what was to come.

 

“That certainly clears things up, Brad,” Schuldig commented on the cryptic answer he gave to Nagi. The American chose to ignore the redhead's words. He understood perfectly well that the telepath was trying to maintain some sense of normalcy and relieve the tension that had been building over the last several days.

 

“Mr. Takatori has ordered the three of you to `check up' on his son's exploits while I attend a meeting with him,” the precog informed them. “He does not know about the women who work for Masafumi, and I intend to keep that way, so when you are questioned about the activities at Korin Corps, make no mention of Schreient.” Nagi and Farfarello nodded their agreement. What's really going on here, Brad? Schuldig asked. The German felt the sigh that Crawford forced down. Esset knew about this group of women. They set it up so that Masafumi would take them as bodyguards. The blue-eyed man watched as Crawford forcefully shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a clear sign of annoyance and frustration. Wouldn't that imply that they've been planning this for years? The level of loyalty Omi described could not have been accomplished overnight. This time, the American did let out the sigh.

 

“Yes,” he answered aloud. “I was informed this morning. They have plans for Schreient… They intend to use them in regards to summoning their leader from the grave.” The two who had not been in on the telepathic conversation looked up sharply at the American's words.

 

“They've become more suspicious of us, haven't they?” Nagi concluded after a few moments. “How long have you known?” His tone wasn't accusing; the telekinetic knew that is their leader held information back for a reason, but he was still curious.

 

“Yes, they're suspicious, but not to the point that we need to be concerned; they still have an overall trust in us.” Crawford answered the first question before moving on. “I was unaware of Schreient until today. And as I have told all of you, their presence will not change the overall outcome, but it will change how we have to go about certain things.”

 

“When this Schreient was first mentioned,” Farfarello interjected. “I assumed that they were the group whose involvement in our plans you could not determine, but that's wrong. They are a complete unknown in all of this,” The white haired man swept his single eye over the American's tense form. “You're worried,” he observed.

 

“I never said that I wasn't,” the precog replied honestly. “And you are correct; there is still another team that we have not come across as of yet. I'm unable to get a clear view as to their ultimate purpose, but I know that they won't come into play for the next several months.” The precog stood from the table, taking his half-empty plate to the counter. “Concentrate on what we have to do now; after your meeting with Schreient tomorrow, we will plan to help the others get those Kritiker spies off their backs. They need to be free to come and go as they please once Masafumi is out of the picture.” And Yohji is going to need Schuldig's support soon if what the Elder's told me is true. Since they don't lie outright, only keep secrets, I have no doubt that it is.

 

“You're still not telling us everything,” the telepath commented as he, too, rose from the table.

 

“Since when have I ever given away everything,” came the sardonic reply as the precog exited the kitchen. Schuldig couldn't help but smile at the answer. Brad Crawford certainly had a strange way of easing one's worries, but so long as the man kept a majority of the details to himself, the German knew that everything was still on track in one way or another.

 

 

TBC

End of Chapter Notes: Next time we finally have the confrontation with Masafumi which should prove to be fun for all of us who love Omi torture and angst… and Yohji, too. I'm going to start giving Schwartz more time now as well, so the chapters will probably get longer from here on out. Look out for my two side stories - one on Ran's time with the Crashers and one on Crawford's past. The prologues should be up by Monday.

 

Reviews:

Splitpersona: Don't worry, I won't tell you how the whole Tot thing works out. And if you think things are getting crazy now, wait until Hirofumi rears his head. I finally decided how I'm going to play that… lots of fun. Eh, I think this one was a bit boring, but I needed to set some things up. It was fun writing the Aya-Farf stuff, though. People probably think I'm going to pair them, but we know better.

 

TrenchcoatMan: I'm working on that FxK, but it may be a little longer than I thought to get it out. I'm trying to write my masters right now, so it's kind of eating into my fic time. And I've read both story arcs you mentioned. Actually, I've read Sinners and Saints 3 times, I think. It's one of my favorites. I'm rather partial to Miko no Da's works, and I wish she would write Weiss again, but there was something she left on Weiss group saying the muses just weren't there for now. So, yeah, I actually don't necessarily see Shuichi as the bad guy, but it was needed for this particular fic. I have to admit, though, I can't really see him as a good guy either. He did essentially create Weiss to get his brother and raised his `nephew' as a weapon against the man they thought was his father. My other story, even though Shuichi's not in it, doesn't have him as anything other than what he was in the anime when he's mentioned.

 

ShinigamiSeiji: I know what you mean about only reading fics of a certain type as I often search out Omi-centric stuff, but every once in awhile I also find something that surprises me. I'm glad that it turned out that way for you, and I appreciate the review to that effect. And you should be happy to know that there will be lots of Yohji in the next few chapters, after all, Schreient's come around.