Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 29 ( Chapter 29 )

29

Lost in thought and lost in time

While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted

The silence after our kiss was deep and comfortable. I watched the stars fade as false dawn colored the horizon. I wished the night would never end. I had just found someone like Karl, someone who understood me without explanation, someone I could talk to about anything and everything. Yohji had become something more than a friend, more intimate than a lover, more needed than he knew.

"Are you going back?" he asked, voice not endorsing any answer.

I thought about it, I thought about it hard. But I already knew what the answer must be. I think he knew it too. "Yeah."

"Be careful with the kid," he suggested. "Don't scare him. Go slow. He'll come around, and believe me, when he figures out they lied to him, he'll throw the shackles off himself. That is," he added with a sidelong look at me, "if they lied."

"I'd bet my life on it."

"From the sound of things, that's exactly what you're doing," he observed. "Just be careful, okay? I like talking with you. I'd hate to see you blown into confetti."

"I'd hate that too!" I said, smiling.

"You hungry?"

Before I could answer, my stomach gave a monstrous growl.

"I'll take that as a `yes'," he said with a laugh. "Let's find some breakfast, all right? Oh, I should ask you, can you eat in public, or will Crawford freak out?"

"Hmm." I considered this. "Well, they say it's better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, so let's eat! I'll deal with him later."

We drove to an all-night café, one Yohji said was usually not very busy at this hour of the morning. I got the feeling he knew most of the local eateries fairly well. Then again, I couldn't exactly imagine any of his team cooking.

Over bowls of miso, we talked in hushed tones about what the coming day might hold. He expected another lonely day avoiding phone calls and longing for the past. I anticipated another ugly scene with Crawford and Nagi.

"Can't we just run away together?" I suggested, only mostly sarcastic. "Find some place away from all this shit and just watch the world spin?"

He laughed and lit a cigarette. "A place full of beautiful people," he said, "with pretty cars and good music, cheap booze and no telephones."

Grinning, I leaned back and looked out the window. The sun was nearly up now. I had to admit, the thought of actually doing it, of running away and living a Bohemian sort of life with this man tempted me sorely. I sighed and stubbed out my cigarette. "Damn, Yohji. We are so fucked."

"Look on the bright side," he said, touching the back of my hand. "You still have my address, right?"

I blinked, then nodded, the smile returning to my face. "That I do, Kudou. That I do."

"You're welcome there anytime. And you can still look for me at that bar. I tend to go there a few times a week, just to catch up on the local street talk." More seriously, he added, "If he hits you again, come see me, okay? I don't like that shit."

The ride back toward the bar was silent but not tense. He pulled in to the curb, watched me get out, then just waved as he turned back onto the street and drove away. I sighed, hunched my shoulders, and started walking.

As I reached the apartment, fatigue washed over me. I had to stop doing this, I thought. Especially if Crawford was going to make me work without sleep every damn time. It was likely he already had something planned to get back at me for last night.

The door opened before I could mindlink with any of the team. Nagi gave me a sullen stare, a little mascara still clinging stubbornly to his eyelashes. "Crawford wants to see you."

Shit, here it comes. I straightened my back and tried for an air of unruffled dignity as I passed the kid and strode into the apartment. Farfarello watched me from his spot on the couch, his single eye unblinking. Crawford stood at the door of his room, beckoning me toward him, then shutting the door behind me.

"You're taking Nagi out again tonight," he said with no preamble. "In spite of his tantrum, last night went quite well. There is a coffee shop with a cyber café about an hour's bus ride from here. After dinner, you will take him there. I don't want you to be seen, Schuldig. Nagi will be just another goth boy in the crowd, but you are to stay invisible. Keep him safe. You will be his bodyguard for this mission. No one is to see what he is doing, there are to be no traces that either of you were ever there. Understood? That means no cigarettes, no trash on the table, no tip, even. Go, do your work, get out."

I heaved a deep breath. This was not what I'd expected! "What do you mean, a success?" I blurted out. "I thought his reaction negated the whole damn thing!"

Crawford regarded me sharply. "I don't have time for this, Schuldig. There is information I need, and the only way to get it at this time is via the internet. We dare not have a connection at this apartment. The noose is closing day by day, and I refuse to give them any extra leads. That means a public terminal, and Nagi will have to work fast."

"Whoa, wait a minute," I said, raising my hands. "Crawford, how can you be so damn sure? I know how your visions work, they're vague as hell and often misleading. How do you know that we're safe right now, but not for much longer? My nerves are about shot, thanks to you! If I hadn't --" I broke off. I had been about to say if I hadn't talked with Yohji last night, I'd be crazy now.

Crawford glared at me, his glasses flat mirrors keeping me from seeing his eyes. "I know where you were. I choose not to discuss it at this time."

My heart sank, though for the life of me I couldn't decipher why. Which man did I believe I was betraying, here? "Brad, I just --"

Brad lunged forward, grabbed my shirt front and slammed me against the wall. "I said not at this time, Schuldig! You do not want to hear what I would say right now, and it's taking a lot of effort to not throw it in your face. I am trusting you to not jeopardize the team, and to do what you can to keep your sanity intact. I do not," he snarled, releasing his hold, "happen to enjoy it."

I stared at him, stunned to the core. Was that jealousy? Before I could contemplate it too much, self-preservation kicked in. I collected my wits and put on a poker face, then asked, "What kind of information is Nagi looking for?" My voice wasn't quite steady, but it didn't sound as bad as I'd expected.

Brad took a few deep breaths, clearly calming himself, too. "I need to know what medicines we can mix with Farfarello. His psychosis is flaring up again, but we don't dare take him off the anti-seizure medication. We're going to be traveling soon, and I need this under control."

"Will you be all right here alone with him?"

"I'll have to be," he said, giving me an odd look. "Go get some sleep. You'll need to be sharp tonight. There will be no room for error."

I exited the room without another word. Nagi watched me go into the kitchen, then back out toward my room.

From the couch I heard Far mutter something that sounded like "whore". I stopped, turning to glare at him. "What was that, Farfarello?" I asked, anger ready to boil over.

"Babylon returns," he whispered, then picked up a book and ignored me with practiced ease.

Unsettled beyond words, I watched as Nagi slipped back into his room. I could hear the scrape of furniture - moved by hand, not telekinetically - being shoved against the door. Before Far could look up again, I slipped into my own room and locked the door behind me.

Tired though I was, I couldn't sleep. I reached out for Brad's mind, hoping to clarify something he'd said.

He grudgingly lowered his shields enough to ask, ::What do you want, Schuldig?::

::How do you know we're safe right now?:: I asked. ::What's going to change that will make us not safe, and when?::

Brad huffed a mental sigh. ::Schuldig, as I've told you, we are in the care of the yakuza. They have an extensive and highly efficient network here. Right now they even have Esset thwarted, but that won't last. I don't know what Esset has in the works, but within a matter of weeks, perhaps sooner, they will break through the net and come for us. Normals can't outsmart Esset operatives for long. The only thing that will change is time.::

::Oh. So, where are we going next? Another safe house?:: I really wondered just how much he Saw, or how much of this was conjecture. Crawford was a highly intelligent man, but conjecture alone would get us nowhere.

::I've Seen us leaving the country,:: he replied. ::We'll spend a few months abroad, then return when things cool down here. With any luck they'll waste a good deal of resources looking for us where we aren't.::

::Will that be it, then?:: I asked, hopeful that this would all blow over. ::A few months abroad?::

Brad fell silent, though I could feel a fine degree of agitation through our link. Then, ::Schuldig, I wish you could grasp the depth of this. Please try to understand. This will never blow over. There's a good chance we will never stay in one place this long again, for the rest of our lives. Now, stop looking for a way out and get serious. I can't do this alone.:: With that he raised his shields and closed me out.

I sighed and stared at the ceiling. What if he was wrong? Then again, what if he wasn't?

Sleep came fitful and sweaty. I awoke around four, feeling less rested than I had before going to bed. I sat on the edge of the bed, head in my hands. Some nightmares never seemed to die.

I got dressed in my leather pants and a nondescript shirt and ventured into the living room. Farfarello lay curled up in his straitjacket on the couch. By the slackness of his features I knew Brad had dosed him with tranquilizers. I hoped it wasn't hurting him, but I knew too well how dangerous the man could be, and I knew the risk was necessary.

Nagi sat at the kitchen bar, picking at a bowl of fried rice. He'd done his own makeup this time. The kid always was a fast learner, though I would have emphasized his eyes more. Still, the effect was accurate: he would pass for an unremarkable goth kid having an unremarkable time out, no questions asked.

Brad stood in the kitchen, rubbing his forehead. He glanced up at me as I raided the refrigerator. Bottle of water in one hand, sweet roll in the other, I regarded him coolly and asked, "Are we still on for tonight?"

Brad nodded. "You leave in half an hour. If anything goes wrong, call this number." He repeated the number twice to make sure we had it straight.

Whether I could remember it or not, I knew that Nagi had soaked it in. "Is that the number here?"

"Of course not," he replied sharply. "But it is someone who can get you out of a tight spot, once only. If you call, be aware that they will contact me and this apartment will be empty within fifteen minutes. We will arrange to meet up again later, to figure out what went wrong."

I really didn't like the way this was going. "Brad," I asked, trying not to sound bitchy, "what the hell is that supposed to mean? Have you Seen something happening tonight? Warn me in a language I understand, damn it! Auf Englisch, oder auf Deutsch, bitte! This vague shit is killing me."

Brad glared, adjusted his glasses. "Schuldig, it's simple enough for even you to understand: don't screw up. Period. If you do, you might not die, but it will not be pleasant. Got it?"

"Jawohl." I didn't feel like eating, but I made myself do it anyway. I'd need the energy, and from what Brad had told me earlier, I'd be stuck at a café with no food. Leave no traces, he'd said. "Wait a second. What about fingerprints? Gloves would be damn conspicuous."

"Spirit gum," Nagi said in an unhappy monotone. "No skin oil to leave a print. Feels nasty, and I'm not sure it'll come back off, but Crawford said it would work."

"Brad," I asked, honestly concerned now, "how close are they, really?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't leave the apartment. Now get going, you don't have a lot of time."

I cleared my head as best I could, given the low quality of sleep I'd had lately, and led Nagi out to the bus line. I walked directly behind him most of the way, making sure that I didn't bump into anyone as we passed. It's always best to suggest no one's there if you don't make physical contact, after all, and Brad had hinted that being perceived as someone else wasn't good enough tonight. So I concentrated on being unnoticed, while Nagi's protective coloring did the job for him.

As we rode to the café, I kept a cautious mindscan sweeping the area around us, on the bus and on the ground. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but Brad had made me a little paranoid.

A sensation of cool breeze brushed against my mind, and I froze, diving behind my shields. Somewhere out there, a telepath searched casually for - what? For us? I locked that thought down tight and gripped Nagi's arm, trying to alert him to the danger. He glanced at me, and I touched my forefinger to my temple and shook my head. His eyes widened and he turned to face forward; I could feel his shields slide firmly into place.

Very carefully I reached out, trying to pinpoint the other telepath. Fortunately for me, it would be hard for them to know my exact location, even if contact had been made. They would need to triangulate on a moving target, and unless they had a relay of telepaths working together, that would be damn hard. But, unfortunately for me, that meant I couldn't locate them, either. Not with any degree of certainty. All I knew was, someone was out there, quite possibly looking for me. I leaned forward to whisper in Nagi's ear, unwilling to risk telepathic contact at this time.

"Kid, just play it cool. I'll keep watch. If anything gets hairy, you have that phone number. Keep yourself safe and get to a phone, got it?"

The rest of the bus trip was uneventful. Still, I didn't let my guard down for a moment. I had the feeling we were being watched, though from where I couldn't say. As we hurried to the café, I kept my invisibility zone smaller than I'd have liked, not daring to reach too far for fear of being noticed.

Nagi ordered a juice drink and helped himself to a free terminal, settling in and opening two windows. In one he started his search for Farfarello's medicines. In the other he brought up information on shipping lanes. This was agonizingly slow, as he was typing like any other boy here, instead of using his powers to perform his own searches from the inside of the system. As the waitress came by with his drink, he brought up another window, this one detailing the admissions procedures for a prestigious university in France. He was covering his tracks, throwing useless information into the mix in case anyone was monitoring.

I watched the clock on the wall, my heartbeat yelling at me that the clock was slow, damn it, we'd been there too long already. I wanted a cigarette.

Nagi casually wrapped a napkin around his glass and took a drink, then pulled out his little notebook and a pen and started writing, way too fast for me to follow. Then again, my ability to read katakana pretty much sucked. He checked his two real searches, jotting down notes about medications and dosages, and ocean currents and tour ships. Then he glanced around, made sure no one was looking directly at him, and whispered to me, "Hide me for a minute."

I encouraged people not to look in his direction, and those who did look saw only the boy sitting there, sipping his drink. They did not see him go into the main programming of the terminal and basically erase the prior hour from its memory, then reset the clock to look like nothing interesting had happened. If anyone took interest in his searches and followed them back to this computer, they would find no evidence that it had even been in use at that time. I smiled to myself as Nagi finished his work, tired but triumphant. "I'm done," he murmured, slipping from his chair.

I followed him out the door, my shields once again hiding only myself while Nagi walked a little ahead of me, for all appearances alone. As we reached the bus stop, a group of kids wandered over, laughing and talking excitedly. Like Nagi, they wore black clothes and makeup. They took notice of my awkward young teammate and tried to engage him in conversation. I grinned and watched, enjoying the show.

A telepathic echo formed in my head, and I saw myself from behind and up, as if from a rooftop: a tall, red-haired European standing at the curb near a knot of black-clad youths. I felt that tentative mental touch again, only this time it sharpened in recognition.

Training overcame instinct: I pushed back, searching the immediate awareness of the hunter. Answer found, I clamped my shields down tight and hissed in Japanese, "Go home now. Don't let him leave."

Then I turned and ran, darting across the path of the oncoming bus, hoping only that Nagi would obey without question and draw no attention to himself. They hadn't noticed him, hadn't recognized him for one of their quarry. I would find my own way home, but not before leading them well out of the way. And, if I couldn't shake them off my trail, I still had that phone number, I could - oh, shit.

The number was gone, dissolved into a meaningless series of digits.