Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Out in the Fog ❯ First ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Title: Out in the Fog
Author: Missa
Website: http://www.geocities.com/museboyz
Archive: Not this time
Feedback: is life
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: In San Francisco, not all is as it seems. Two men on opposite sides of the law find each other.


Notes: Written by request for the 500th visitor to my site. Many thanks to Jambery and Scribblemoose for their wonderful help and advice.


out in the fog: First

Shrugging off the dampness that clung to his leather coat, Kudou Youji once again questioned his decision to move to San Francisco. It was cold and damp most of the time, and he couldn't smoke in the bars. He feared if he stayed too long, he'd start to grow mold - or gills. Not that the weather in Tokyo had been much different, but then, he'd moved around a lot when he was still in Japan. Youji combed long fingers through his short dark hair, looking around the bar. It had been some time since he'd set foot in that particular establishment; it was well known that most of the area's prominent Japanese business men hung out there, and Youji was there for more than just a drink. The immersion into his native tongue helped ease the slight pang of homesickness that struck him every once in a while. Not that he had anything to miss back in Japan. But still, after several years, his English wasn't as good as it could have been, and being able to speak Japanese again was a great comfort to him.

For all that a man on the run from the government that had made him an assassin deserved comfort.

The inevitable Karaoke machine was set up against the far wall and Youji winced and remembered why he so rarely went into those kind of bars. Give a man enough to drink and he thinks he's fucking Whitney Houston, Youji grumbled to himself, sidling up to the bar.

The bartender eyed him for a minute, no doubt considering his willingness to serve someone who didn't appear to belong. Youji had both blessed and cursed his mixed parentage in the past, though he wasn't sure which parent had contributed which feature, he took it all in stride. The nuns at the Catholic mission he'd been raised in hadn't thought it was important enough to disclose, if they'd even known, so Youji dismissed it as well.

"Beer please," he ordered in Japanese with a slight smile, settling himself on a stool. The bartender moved away to fill his order, appearing to accept him, at least for the moment. Youji decided he really needed to start frequenting places like this more often, if he wanted to be able to blend in. Or at least look like he belonged there. And with the jobs he'd been getting recently, blending in was going to be increasingly important if the trend continued. It seemed the war had been declared and he had chosen his side. Well, he mused, the money had dictated which side he was going to be on.

Youji nursed his beer as he casually observed the people around him. There were several small clumps of people, co-workers probably, having a good time together. He was able to pick out faces from photos he'd seen, thereby knowing which company a group was from. He listened the idle chatter he could hear, not expecting anything important, but listening all the same. Habits and training died hard. And he was being paid to listen.

He ordered another beer somewhere along the line, and unzipped his jacket as the alcohol began to take the chill off.

"Ran-kun!" the bartender greeted enthusiastically.

"Yuushi," a deep voice growled warningly in Japanese. "Don't call me that."

Youji watched out of the corner of his eye as the owner of the voice confidently stepped up to the bar, settling himself on a barstool a couple down from his. Long red hair hung in a messy braid halfway down his back, long fringe hanging in his face, droplets of condensation beading up on the white duster. Youji caught a glimpse of gold as the coat was brushed back and the man slid up onto the cushion. Cop, he thought. Followed up by the realization that "kun" was an odd thing to be calling a man several years the bartender's senior who walked like he knew how to take care of himself, despite the nerdy glasses. The duster didn't quite conceal the broadness of "Ran-kun's" shoulders.

The bartender, Yuushi, slid a glass down the bar without being asked. "Where you been? Mom's been asking about you. She's worried you're not eating right again."

The redhead chuckled before taking a long swig of his drink. "Tell your mother that I'm eating just fine, thank you. My freezer is still full from the last time she felt like I wasn't eating enough."

Yuushi chuckled and moved off to fill an order the waitress brought up to the bar. Youji slipped out of his coat and draped it over his stool as he slid off. When Yuushi glanced his direction, Youji nodded at him, indicating he'd be right back before heading to the restroom. He took care of his business and washed up, using his damp fingers to further muss his hair. His long sleeved button up was tucked into nicely fitting pants. He rolled the sleeves up to his forearms, the alcohol and the general coziness of the bar finally warming him up.

When Youji emerged from the restroom, Yuushi was leaning casually against the bar, drying glasses with a towel.

"So where's Josh?" Yuushi was asking as Youji resumed his place.

"Ah."

From the short distance, he could see the color creep up the redhead's cheeks. Youji took a deep swallow of his beer to cover his grin, also covering up the fact that he'd been eavesdropping.

"He dumped me," 'Ran-kun' admitted after a long moment. "A few weeks ago."

"Ran," Yuushi sighed.

"Don't," Ran growled before the bartender could continue. "Just don't, Yuushi."

Yuushi raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I didn't say a word, Ran-kun."

"I know what you're thinking," the redhead grumbled, staring down into his drink. Youji could almost feel the chill settling over the other man, even a few stools away, his good humor evaporating.

With that, Yuushi shrugged and turned away, stacking the glasses on the shelves along the wall, and Youji listened to Ran play with the ice in his glass. Youji finished his beer and caught Yuushi's eye, tapping his empty mug with a finger. Yuushi nodded and turned toward the cooler, withdrawing a chilled mug before turning toward the kegs.

Before the bartender returned with his drink, a large group poured into the bar, forcing Youji a few stools down, placing him right next to the brooding redhead he'd been listening to. Yuushi put the beer in front of Youji with a slightly puzzled look on his face, but grinned in response to the wink and grin Youji gave him, before moving away to tend to his new guests.

Youji shifted on the stool, not quite accidentally letting his leg bump the redhead's.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Youji grinned when the man looked up. Sad violet eyes lingered behind the square wire rims of his glasses. But behind the sadness lurked a fire, and Youji found himself suddenly wanting to explore the amethyst depths. There were a few deep laugh lines around his eyes, smoothed out with his present expression, accentuating the shallower, more recent stress lines around his mouth. Probably, Youji mused, from pressing his lips together like he was currently doing.

"Hn." The redhead merely grunted a reply, returning his gaze to the ice swirling in his glass.

"Be nice," Yuushi muttered in English as he swapped Ran's empty glass for a full one, "He's cute." He winked at Youji before moving up the bar.

Youji got the impression that the two were at least very old friends and this was a scenario they'd played out before.

"So," Youji went on, catching an encouraging nod from the bartender. "Come here often?" Smooth, Kudou. He mentally slapped his forehead.

"Yeah," Ran answered with a reluctant half-smile and a darting glance in Youji's direction. "My cousin owns the place." He flicked long elegant fingers toward Yuushi, who was flirting with one of the women in the group that had just come in.

Cousins, Youji mused. That explained the ease with which the tense redhead had accepted the setup. But something puzzled him. Ran's Japanese was accented much like Youji's own, as if he'd grown up in Tokyo. Yuushi's had a different inflection - maybe he'd been raised in the States and Japanese was the family language. It didn't matter, but Youji was a curious man by nature and profession and small details like that didn't escape his notice.

He turned toward Ran, nudging his leg again, quite purposefully. He could feel the smile pulling at his lips and the corners of his eyes, the jade orbs probably sparkling with mischief the way the nuns had always told him they did. "Kudou Youji," he introduced himself.

The corners of Ran's mouth lifted fractionally, smoothing out the terse lines. "Ran. Fujimiya Ran."

**

I'm gonna kill him, Ran thought, mentally cursing his cousin. He was sure that Yuushi had prodded Youji into opening a conversation. Damn busy body. But his distant relative was right. Youji was cute. His dark hair was short, but not so short to display the natural waviness that would be unruly if left to grow out. Youji was slightly darker skinned than Ran, and with features that hinted at mixed heritage, as much as the green eyes. And friendly, and felt - he couldn't put a label on it, not so soon after meeting the man. But he'd never felt so instantly comfortable around another person. Not since his family had been killed.

"So Ran, Fujimiya Ran," Youji grinned constantly, Ran noticed, his green eyes sparkling with good humor. "Are you from around here?"

"Sort of," Ran answered. "'Scuse me," he retrieved his vibrating and softly ringing cell phone from his pocket and looked at the number. It wasn't dispatch or the Captain so it wasn't important enough to answer. He cancelled the call and tucked the phone away. "You?" he turned back to Youji and took a first sip of the fresh drink and hid a wince. Yuushi had mixed it strong. Damn him.

"I grew up in Tokyo. Landed here a couple years back." Youji shrugged.

"Hn. Me too," Ran said. "Grew up in Tokyo," he clarified. "I moved here when I was seventeen." He ignored his phone as it rang again, the voicemail probably picking up.

"With your family?"

"No." Ran pushed back the inevitable wave of sadness that washed over him when his family was mentioned. He mourned them every day. "I came for school and ended up staying. For fuck's sake," he muttered in English when his phone went off for a third time.

Youji grinned and waved off an apology as he flipped the small phone open. "Fujimiya," he growled.

"Hey, Ran, sorry to bug you."

Ran smothered a groan. If Grimes started by apologizing it couldn't be anything simple. "Grimes, I'm off," he started.

"Yeah, I know," the other man's voice was tinny over the phone. "But I'm in a tight spot, Ran. I need a translator -"

"No." Ran interrupted. "Where's Petersen?"

"Petersen's out with the flu."

"Then call the service." Ran suggested, watching Youji sip at his beer and gaze around the bar.

"Where the hell is the service supposed to find a Japanese translator at 9 on a Thursday night?"

"Same place you found me?" Ran was sure the other man could hear the smirk in his voice.

"You little shit," Grimes sighed. "Hot date?"

"Looks promising," Ran admitted, not going any farther. He didn't bother hiding his sexual preferences from the rest of the squad, but he didn't advertise either. The again, he didn't really interact with the others guys much, if he could help it. He worked better alone.

"Alright, I'll call the service. But if I can't find anyone - "

"Then hold whoever you got and I'll do the interviews in the morning," Ran finished. "Or drag Petersen's sorry ass out of bed."

Grimes snorted. "Right. See you tomorrow."

Ran cut off the call by slapping the phone shut and shoving it back in the pocket it came from. "Sorry," he slipped back into Japanese with a sigh and picked up his glass.

"No problem," Youji grinned again. "What interviews are so important to call so late?"

"Hm?" Ran swallowed his mouthful of liquor. "Another detective needs a Japanese translator down at the precinct. I didn't ask why," he smiled a little. "They can lock whoever it is up till morning if they can't find anyone else. I haven't been out of there for more than a few hours in the last three weeks," he said, feeling abnormally talkative. Since Josh had left, Ran had practically taken refuge in his office, leaving only when his captain chased him out for a few hours sleep. Even the hours of katas and sword play that normally helped him sleep hadn't been very effective. At least work kept him from thinking about Josh, that he'd been left again, that he didn't deserve anyone to really love him. So the few hours of sleep that he had gotten was enough to keep him going for a while, but even Ran knew he had limits; he just chose to ignore them most of the time.

"Big case?" Youji prompted, toying with his mug.

"Yeah," Ran said. "But-"

"You can't talk about it," Youji finished, eyes alight.

"Yeah." It was a big case and so far, the media hadn't gotten a hold of it. But as soon as they found out that several Japanese businessmen had appeared to have been murdered in the same way over the last few months, all hell would break loose in the community and all their leads would dry up. Ran felt himself smile in return. "So what do you do?" He asked, eager to change the topic from his own work. He'd been feeling very disheartened by his job lately, paperwork and bureaucracy overtaking actual detective work. And the guys he'd managed to put away lately had been turned loose thanks to some loophole or technicality that the DA had missed.

He watched the lanky man's grin twist. "I'm a florist."

Ran gave him a once over, and swallowed his laughter. Youji just didn't look like a florist, not that Ran had any clue what a florist looked like, but still that wasn't what he was expecting. "A florist?" He asked. "Really?"

"Yeah," Youji chuckled along with him. "It was the family business, back in Tokyo." He shrugged and took a long swallow of his beer.

"How'd you end up here?" Ran asked, interested in how a florist got transplanted to San Francisco of all places

Youji shrugged again. "I decided it was time for a change of scenery."

Ran didn't follow up the evasive answer, his trustworthy intuition warning him off the topic. He played with his glass, knowing he'd managed to kill the conversation, something he'd always excelled at.

"So, how did you become a cop?" Youji asked, grinning again, swinging around slightly to face Ran. "Family tradition?"

"Not exactly," Ran said. His parents had both been teachers, his father at a high school, his mother at the elementary school. "After graduate school I joined the FBI as a profiler. I was good at it," he smiled wryly, "but it was boring. So I quit and joined the force here." The familiar story slid off his tongue as always. It was an interpretation of the facts, one that served his purposes well.

"Profiler?" Youji's eyes widened fractionally. "Serial killers and stuff?"

"Aa." Ran nodded. "Not as exciting as the movies and TV makes it out to be, though. Trust me," he smiled a little. Profiling had been interesting, and he'd been good at it, until he'd let himself get to close. When he'd begun to lose his perspective and let his emotion interfere with his work, he'd called it quits. His last several cases had all been murdered families, and the emotions, even after nearly a decade, were still too raw for him to be able to isolate. So he'd moved West, continuing his self-appointed crusade to keep other families, other children, brothers, mothers, from going through what he went through.

"I'll take your word for it." Youji's eyes glittered.

So green, Ran thought idly.

Another group entered the bar, the work ethic of Japan not changing despite the country. The venue had changed, from the geisha and bathhouses of the East to the bars and lounges of the West. Those that had just come in swarmed the bar, making conversation near impossible and making Ran grow increasingly uncomfortable with the press of people against his back.

"You want to get out of here?" He asked Youji, raising his voice over the din of the crowd. "My place isn't far." He felt himself flush as he realized how that sounded.

Youji tossed back the last of his beer. "Sure," he grinned.

Ran left most of his drink untouched as they slid off their stools in synch, Youji reaching for his wallet. Without thinking, Ran reached out and gently captured his wrist with a shake of his head. "Yuushi's got this one."

Youji's grin bloomed into a full fledged smile as he turned his wrist and cautiously twined his fingers around Ran's own. Ran paused for a moment, the contact sending a mild jolt up his arm. Youji squeezed briefly then let go, snagging up his jacket. Ran let Youji press through the crowd, sparing a look over his shoulder at his cousin, cleaning up the empty beer mug and half full glass. Yuushi waved and smiled knowingly. Ran rolled his eyes but spared the annoying man a brief smile before turning to face Youji's leather clad back and stepping out into the damp winter air.