Chapter 7

Hiro stared at the front of the Koneko no Sumu from a block away, fighting with himself. He'd already changed his mind about this a dozen times since he'd left his house, and he was beginning to think he'd never reach a real decision. On the one hand, he didn't want or need the pain of seeing Omi again, of rubbing salt in the wound that his loss had caused. On the other hand - he had to know. Either Omi had been a fantastically good actor during the entire six months they'd known each other, or Hiro had completely imagined everything he thought he knew about the other boy - or he was missing something.

It just didn't make sense! Despite the fact that the sight of Omi burying those lethal little darts in that man's body replayed itself every night in his dreams, Hiro still couldn't believe it had really happened. Surely it was all some strange nightmare. Omi was a sweet, loving person, and Hiroshi just couldn't reconcile that with the image of a cold-blooded killer who would assassinate people for money. There had to be some piece of the puzzle, some bit of information that he was missing, that would make it all make sense.

Of course, the only way to get that piece of the puzzle was to talk to Omi. After everything that had happened between them, Hiro wasn't sure Omi would be particularly happy to see him. After all, it had been over a month since that terrible night, and they'd had absolutely no contact since then.

He took a few more steps towards the Koneko, then halted again, indecisive. This really wasn't like him. Normally he made a decision and carried it through come hell or high water, and dealt with the consequences later. Now he was vacillating back and forth, unable to commit himself to one course of action.

He still wanted to know the identity of the orange-haired foreigner who had shanghaied him and revealed Omi's secret to him. Omi had clearly recognized him, and from some of the things they'd said Hiro thought he might be Omi's enemy. But who was the enemy of an assassin? The police? Federal agents? Hiro hadn't gotten that kind of feeling from the man. What kind of law enforcement officer hunted down the loved ones of their targets and forced them to watch the criminal in action?

Then there was the fact that the entire time he'd been in the man's company, he'd been utterly unable to speak or move unless he was told to. But he hadn't felt the sting of a drug injection, and his mind had been perfectly clear. And the moment the man had vanished Hiro was himself again. Omi hadn't seemed particularly surprised at his odd behaviour, either.

He took another step forward, and cursed at himself when his feet stopped moving again. This was getting ridiculous. At this rate, by the time he made it to the store it would be closed for the night!

"Hiroshi?" Ken's voice came from behind him. Hiro spun, startled. Ken stood just a few feet away, holding several precariously balanced bags of Chinese takeout. "What are you doing here?"

"I... uh..." Hiro wasn't sure how much Omi had told them about the encounter, and didn't want to get himself or Omi in trouble. Ken was watching him with a curious expression, and didn't seem at all hostile.

"I haven't seen you around in a while," the ex-soccer player said, walking up along side him. "Did you two have a fight or something?"

"Or something," Hiro admitted, trying to find a place to rest his eyes. It had just occurred to him that Ken was every bit as much of a killer as Omi - an obvious conclusion, but still one his mind had skipped over until now. Suddenly he wasn't quite sure how to treat the other teen.

"Look..." Ken bit his lip, looking like he was trying to decide something. "I know this is totally none of my business - but Omi's my friend, and I really hate seeing him like this. I don't know if you know this, but just before you guys had your fight - or whatever - he was talking about leaving Wei... leaving the group. For you. I don't know if you understand what a sacrifice that would have been for him, but he really loves you. Enough to give up everything he's ever known."

Hiro started. He'd actually forgotten that Omi had spoken of leaving and moving in with him permanently. Ken misinterpreted the action, and nodded.

"Whatever happened between you, you guys really need to work it out. Any idiot can see that you both need each other to be happy - otherwise why would you be hovering around a block away from the Koneko?" Ken asked practically. Hiroshi couldn't think of what to say to that. "C'mon back with me, and you guys can have it out, get it all settled. I'll cover for Omittchi - God knows he's bailed me out of enough shifts when I had a game or something."

He started walking towards the shop, not looking back to see if Hiro was following. Hiro was startled to find himself moving after the man with no hesitation. Apparently his mind had been made up for him.

The bell jangled cheerfully as they entered, and Aya looked up from the counter. He raised a brow at the sight of Hiro, but said nothing, just moving to relieve Ken of some of his burden.

About three seconds later Youji came bounding in from the back, sniffing the air exaggeratedly. "Is that the divine aroma of wantons and egg rolls I smell?" he asked grandly. He too raised a brow at Hiro, but unlike Aya he undertook to comment. "You and Omittchi finally make nice with each other, Hiroshi? It's about time - I'm getting real tired of watching the poor kid dragging around. He was less depressed after losing his sister than he is now!"

Ken shot Youji a warning look, but Hiroshi shook his head. "I just need to talk to him, and see if I can sort some things out."

"Where is Omi anyway?" Ken asked, setting the last of the bags down and swatting Youji's hand away from one. "Hold your horses Yo-tan, we're splitting these up evenly. And we're leaving some egg rolls for Omi!"

Youji rolled his eyes and grinned. "You can't blame a guy for trying. Omi's doing deliveries, but he should be back any..."

The bell over the door interrupted him, and the topic of conversation entered the room. His gaze was on the floor and his gait was more a shuffle than a step, and he didn't look up as he came in. Hiro felt a pang in his heart, watching him move like someone wounded. "I'm back, guys. Is dinner ready?"

Ken tilted his head at Omi and raised an eyebrow at Hiro, as if to say, 'see what I mean?' Aloud, he said, "Yeah, dinner's here - but you've got something more important to deal with."

Omi frowned and glanced up, and froze like a rabbit in headlights at the sight of Hiro. He gulped, and his eyes went wide. "H-Hiro... wh-what are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," Hiro replied, steeling his heart against those huge blue eyes. He wasn't going to let himself be distracted by Omi's sweet outward appearance, or by the attraction that was still at full force between them.

Omi glanced at the others, then moved back to the door and pulled it open. Hiro exited the shop and Omi followed, shutting the door behind him. "They'll probably end up upstairs shortly," he said quietly, and nodded down the street. "There's a park just down there, by the waterfront. I go there all the time when I want to be alone for a while." Hiro nodded, and they set off.

It was a short walk, no more than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Hiro. The silence between them was more awkward than it had ever been, and every step sent a physical pain through his chest. Finally they reached the walkway along the water, and Omi leaned up against the railing, staring out to sea. "What did you want to know?" he asked listlessly.

Hiroshi copied his pose, trying to draw calm from the vastness of the ocean. There had been almost no wind that day and the water was flat and placid, shining like a mirror in the setting sun. "I know you probably can't answer most of my questions," he started, not quite sure where to begin. "But can you at least give me what answers you can?"

Omi glanced sideways at him, and nodded. "I'll tell you what I can. I trust you not to betray us."

Hiro tried to gather his thoughts, sorting his questions in order of what he needed to know. "Who was the guy that kidnapped me? And what the HELL did he do to me, anyway? I couldn't move or even speak, until he left."

Omi sighed. "His name is Schuldich - at least, that's the only name we know for him. He's a member of Schwartz, another group of assassins that we go up against on a fairly regular basis. I guess you could say we're enemies. When I first met you we had just finished going head to head with them - they'd kidnapped Aya-chan."

Hiroshi had to think for a moment to remember that 'Aya-chan' referred to Aya's sister. "The same way they kidnapped me?"

Omi shook his head. "No... not exactly. She was... well, she was supposed to be the sacrifice at some kind of summoning ceremony."

Hiroshi waited for Omi to smile and tell him the real reason, but the younger boy seemed serious. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No. Esstet - the people that Schwartz were working for - were attempting to raise... well, we're not sure, exactly. Something very evil, and very powerful. They wanted Aya-chan because in the two years she'd been in the coma, she hadn't aged a single day."

"And they honestly believed that it would work?"

Omi finally looked at him, and the sincerity in his eyes was disturbing. "It almost did. Trust me, I'm not the mystical type - I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Schwartz has never forgiven us for ruining their chance at immortality. As for what Schuldich did to you - well, he's a telepath. He was controlling your body through your mind - I've seen him do it before."

Hiroshi closed his eyes, feeling his knees go a little weak. He wasn't a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but the idea of someone digging around inside his head, controlling him... "A telepath. My God. But... why did he do it? What did he get out of it?"

Omi shrugged, and the smile he gave Hiro was more than a little bitter. "I don't know. He seems to take great delight in making my life a living hell. He loves to torment all of us, but I seem to be his favourite target."

"Ouka... and Sakura?" Hiroshi ventured a guess, remembering the names the man had dropped.

"Ouka was my half-sister - I've mentioned her before. Back when we still didn't know we were related, he used to follow me around and threaten to tell her about Weiss. He used her to blackmail me into a position where it looked like I had betrayed Weiss - and then Farfarello, another member of Schwartz, shot her in front of me. She died in my arms."

Hiroshi had known that the circumstances surrounding Omi's sister's death were dark, but he'd had no idea it was this bad. Omi sighed and leaned his chin on his arms, staring out to sea once more. "Sakura was a... well, not a friend, really, but I don't know how else to describe her," Omi continued. "She happened to look almost identical to Aya-chan. She fell in love with Aya-kun, and used to follow him around everywhere. She found out about us; Schuldich convinced her that he was a friend of Aya-kun's, and kidnapped her. He controlled her, the way he was controlling you, and made her shoot Aya-kun."

Hiroshi closed his eyes and digested all of that, trying to make sense of it. There was silence for a long moment between them, then finally Omi asked, "Was that everything you wanted to know?"

"I guess the main thing I wanted to know was... why?" Hiro finally said, honestly bewildered. "I've thought and thought about it, and I just can't reconcile the person I know you as with a mercenary killer. So... why? Why do you do it?"

Omi sighed, shoulders slumping a little. "That's a bit of a loaded question. The short answer is - because I believe in what Kritiker is doing."

"Kritiker - that's the name of the organization?" Hiro asked. Omi nodded. "How can you believe in what they're doing? They're killing people!"

Omi closed his eyes, bowing his head and apparently gathering his thoughts. "We're a necessary evil, Hiroshi," he finally said, voice low and tight with emotion. "We're not mercenaries, we don't do this for money, although Kritiker does pay us for each hit. We're - we're fighting for a cause, I guess."

"What cause?"

"We're trying to make the world a little bit of a better place. The people we target - they're not just random targets, or contracts for big money. Kritiker researches the wealthy, powerful and influential people of the city, looking for the skeletons in their closet. Most of those skeletons are pretty harmless - rats and mice, the occasional cat. But some..."

He turned to face Hiro, and the look in his eyes was the same deadly serious look that had startled Hiroshi before. Now Hiro had a better idea of what had put that look in that normally carefree gaze.

"Some of those skeletons are humans," he continued darkly. "These are the people who are too well-connected to ever be brought to justice the normal way. They've got half the police force and three-quarters of the judges in their pockets, and they think they're safe. They think that nothing can interfere with their little 'games' and 'experiments'."

His voice was passionate, rising in intensity with every word he spoke. "I've seen people used in horrible experiments without their knowledge or consent, just by drinking a certain brand of bottled water, or listening to a certain cd. I've seen people kidnapped and hunted for sport, as a bribe so that the hunters would vote for a certain politician. I've seen desperate people offered an ungodly amount of money as the prize for a 'human chess game', where the winner is the person who's left alive at the end."

He paused to judge Hiro's reaction, and looked grimly satisfied by what he saw on his ex-lover's face. "I could go on for hours, Hiroshi, and still cover only a tiny bit of the things we've dealt with. You'd never believe most of it - and you wouldn't believe some of the people involved. These people believe they are safe from justice - we show them differently. For every drop of blood on my hands, I know I've saved a hundred lives from torment and death."

Hiro was badly shaken, both by Omi's words and by the look on his face. It was a resigned look, a look that said he had seen far too much of hell in his short life. "Why you?" he asked. "Of all people why the four of you?"

Omi turned back out to face the sea, leaning most of his weight on the railing. "For one thing, it's not just the four of us. Kritiker is at the lowest ebb it's been since it was founded over twenty years ago, and there are still dozens of us. Weiss - our group - is currently the only lethal unit Kritiker has. There are several other non-lethal groups, who take the less dangerous people and capture them, handing them over to the police. And then there are all the support people - the people who research the targets, who make sure that there is no chance we are taking out innocent people.

"As for why the four of us, specifically - it's because we're all dead."

Hiro blinked at that, certain he'd heard wrong. "Dead?"

Omi nodded. "Ken-kun was framed for cheating on his game by his best friend. His water was drugged at halftime, and when it looked like the investigation might go for instead of against him, the yakuza involved engineered his death in that warehouse fire. Kritiker had been tracking their activities, and managed to rescue Ken-kun before he was damaged too badly.

"Youji-kun was a private investigator, and he and his partner went up against a cartel called Riot. His partner was shot and he should have died, but again, Kritiker rescued him.

"Aya-kun's father was a prominent local banker. He was framed for his business partner's embezzlement, and a bomb was set to destroy the evidence. Both of his parents were killed, his sister was put in the hospital in a coma for two years, and Aya-kun barely survived. Officially, he didn't live."

He halted, and after a few moments Hiro prompted him. "And you?"

"I... wasn't born Tsukiyono Omi. My father was a powerful politician and businessman. When I was eleven or so, I was kidnapped. My father refused to negotiate with them - he wouldn't pay the ransom." Omi's voice was shaking and Hiro wanted to reach out and touch him in reassurance, but he was afraid that if he interrupted, he'd never hear the whole story. "I should have died. I almost did. But Persia rescued me, took me back to Kritiker. When it turned out that I'd completely suppressed the memories of what had happened to me, even the memory of who I was, he gave me a new life and a new name. Kritiker practically raised me. Even if I didn't believe in them, I'd owe them for that."

Hiro digested that for a long moment, sorting through the bits and pieces to try to make sense of them. "So, you're not an orphan?"

Omi grimaced. "I am now. Both of my brothers, my father, my uncle, my half-sister... they're all dead. My uncle was Persia, which is how he knew to look for me."

"Persia?"

The ghost of a smile crossed Omi's lips. "His codename. I didn't actually know he was my uncle until just a few days before he died - I never met him face-to-face after that first night. Weiss uses cat names - the other groups have different methods of creating codenames. There's one group that uses saints, one that uses dog breeds, there was one once that used chess pieces - it varies. Most groups don't even know the real identities of their own members, but because Weiss works together so closely outside of missions we had to break that rule."

"So, let me see if I have this straight. This... Kritiker... they rescued each of you from a situation where you should have died, and let the official records show that you were dead so that you couldn't be traced." Omi nodded. "And then they train you to go out and kill people who can't be brought to court, for whatever reason." Omi nodded again, still not looking at him. "So... you're kind of vigilantes, right?"

"Basically, though I wouldn't put such a romantic spin on it. As I said, we're a necessary evil. We are killers, and I'll never forget the blood on my hands; that's one reason that Weiss doesn't use guns. Even my crossbow doesn't give me enough range that I can keep from seeing the look on their faces as they die - it brings it home, makes it more immediate that we're taking someone's life. But for the lives I've saved, it's worth it."

"And you were going to give this up... for me?" Hiro was a little awestruck by that, and more than a little ashamed of the things he'd thought of Omi. Here was someone who didn't just complain about corruption and evil in the world - he went out and did something about it, at the risk of his own life and with blood weighing down his soul. And yet he still managed to be endlessly cheerful and supportive of the people around him.

"I was tired of lying," Omi said wearily. "I wanted to be able to be with you all the time, not just when I wasn't out killing people. I didn't want to hide things from you anymore."

"Do you still want that?" Hiroshi asked him quietly. Omi nodded, and Hiro didn't miss the tears at the corners of his eyes. "Omi... I misjudged you. I should have known that you weren't like that. Hell, I DID know you weren't like that - that's why I came here today. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive YOU?" Omi repeated, voice trembling. "For what? Hiro, you were right. I'm a killer - I don't deserve someone like you. I just keep hurting you..."

"Because I keep jumping to conclusions," Hiro interrupted him fiercely. "Omi, don't you ever say that you don't deserve something again. You deserve happiness more than any other person I've ever known. If I can be part of what makes you happy..." He gave up on the inadequate words, and simply embraced the smaller boy tightly. Omi resisted the contact for a moment, then melted into his arms with a sob.

"I've missed you!" Omi exclaimed tearfully. "Gods, I didn't realize how much I'd come to depend on you to help me forget about all of it until you were gone. I think my time with you may be the only thing keeping me sane anymore..."

"Come back to me," Hiro whispered in his ear, pressing against him until he thought their bodies would merge into one being, the way their hearts and souls already had. "I promise I'll never lose faith in you again. I won't even ask you to leave them - I understand now why it means so much to you. Hell, I wish I could help you guys - you make me feel guilty for sitting around bitching about my life when you're all out fighting to really help people."

"Just love me," Omi replied in a voice so soft Hiro almost didn't hear him. "That's more than anyone's ever done for me before. Just hold me when I have nightmares about the people I've killed, and the innocents I couldn't save. Tell me that you don't think I'm evil, when I start to have doubts about what we do. Just love me, please?"

"Always," Hiroshi answered him, equally soft. "Always, Omi, I love you." And as they stood there clutching each other, Hiro felt a sweet pain in his heart that told him he was doing a good thing, the RIGHT thing. In his own small way, he would be able to help make the world a better place, by helping these four brave men in any way that he could. And if the reward was the love of this sweet, caring youth in his arms - well, he certainly wasn't going to complain.

|Chapter 1| |Chapter 2| |Chapter 3| |Chapter 4| |Chapter 5| |Chapter 6| |Chapter 7|

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