|
Part 2 Ken sighed as he swept the last of the flower clippings into the dustpan. It had been an incredibly busy day, and with only he and Youji in the shop, Ken had wound up doing most of the work. Omi was at school, with cram school until late evening, and Aya had been out doing groundwork for the mission, posing as a reporter to talk to the victims' families and friends. The door chimed, and Ken glanced up, ready to tell the customer that they were about to close for the day. There was always that one last person who just HAD to have a major order filled, right away, who didn't bother to come in until five minutes before closing. Instead he saw Aya, who turned and locked the door behind him, flipping the sign to 'closed' and rolling down the metal shutters. "Hey, Aya," Ken greeted him. "How'd it go?" "Our suspicions are confirmed," Aya replied, sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He looked grateful to be off his feet, and Ken couldn't blame him, after all that walking around. "At least six of the dead boys were known or suspected to be gay, including the twins, who were believed to be sleeping with each other." Ken had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Hey, incest is best - keep it in the family!" Youji replied cheerfully, appearing from the back room. "And the other two?" "One I couldn't get anyone to talk to me about. The other, the father denied it so vehemently that I suspect he was covering. I think we've got our profile." Aya leaned back in his chair, eyes glittering. "There are still no reports of missing persons fitting that description for the last few days, so our killer hasn't taken his next victim yet." Ken dumped the clippings in the garbage can, and joined his two teammates at the table. "Or he JUST has, and it hasn't been reported yet," he pointed out as he sat down. "Either way, you can be sure it won't be long. This is the longest he's waited yet." Youji pulled out a cigarette, clamping it between his lips, though he made no move to light it. Omi had delivered enough lectures about smoking in the shop that he avoided it even when the boy wasn't present and wasn't likely to show up. "Could be he got tired of the game," he commented lazily, leaning back and propping his feet on the table. "Or maybe he's even dead. Bleach poisoning, or something." "We should be so lucky," Ken snorted. Aya nodded. "We can't count on that. If a month or more had gone by, perhaps, but not with just two weeks grace." Aya sighed, then stretched, rubbing at the back of his neck. Ken grimaced in sympathy. "Long day?" He asked. "Aa. I dislike talking to grieving families," Aya replied. Ken understood what he didn't say - it reminded Aya too much of the pain of losing his own family. They discussed the details more over the take-out Chinese Aya had brought back with him, trying to figure out what different angles they might take to finding the killer. Short of following Youji's joking suggestion of staking out every pretty gay boy in Tokyo, there really wasn't much for them to go on. There was a grim feeling in the air, as they knew that they likely wouldn't be able to stop this man before at least one other person had died. Ken wondered how the police were able to handle this kind of guilt and stress on a regular basis, and his respect for them went up a notch or two. It had already been dark for hours when Youji suddenly leaned forward, frowning. "Oi, where the hell is Omi, anyway?" he asked, puzzled. "He should've been back from cram school an hour or two ago, shouldn't he?" Ken blinked and looked over at the clock. "Hey, you're right. It's not like him not to call and let us know if he's going to be late. Do you suppose something happened to him?" "You don't suppose..." Youji trailed off, biting his lip. "I mean, we were just joking yesterday when we said he should be careful, but he DOES almost fit this guy's profile..." "Almost isn't good enough," Aya interrupted him calmly. "He hasn't made a mistake yet, which means he's probably been researching his targets fairly carefully. He's not likely to slip up now." "And anyway, Omi could handle himself against some creep trying to gas him," Ken added. "He probably just went to a study group or something, and lost track of time. You know midterms are coming up soon." "Maybe we should call the cram school? See if he left with anyone?" Ken frowned. "They'd be closed up by now. But we might try calling some of his friends from school. I think he keeps their numbers somewhere in a file on his computer." He shrugged. "It couldn't hurt, I guess." He stood and made his way to the stairs, Youji trailing along behind him. Aya just reached for another fortune cookie. Thankfully Omi had given Ken the passwords to get into the system some time ago. He booted it up and typed them in carefully, knowing that the younger boy had set up some fairly nasty measures for anyone trying to hack into his computer. The file with Omi's friends' numbers was right on his desktop, and Ken was moving to click on it when he noticed a little flashing symbol in the tray. Curious, he moved the mouse pointer over it and hovered until the screen tip came up. 'Message from Koi', it said. Ken blinked. "That's a weird screen name," he muttered. Youji came up behind him and read over his shoulder. "Maybe little Omittchi's been holding out on us?" he asked, snickering. Ken rolled his eyes. "Don't be a dumbass, Youji. We'd have noticed by now if he had a girlfriend." He shrugged and clicked on the message. "Might be someone who knows where he is, though." The computer hummed for a moment, then a dialogue box popped up. /Itoushi, are you there? Why didn't you let me know when you got in?/ Ken blinked. "Itoushi?" he repeated. Youji snickered again. "He IS holding out on us!" he crowed. Ken shook his head in irritation. "Youji, cut it out. This is serious. Whoever this is, they obviously expected Omi to message them last night, and he didn't." That sobered up the playboy quickly enough, and they stared at each other. "Ask her when she saw Omi last," Youji suggested. Ken nodded, and started typing. /This is Omi's friend, Ken. He didn't come home today, and we're trying to find him. When was the last time you saw him?/ There was a pause as they waited for the response, then the little message symbol blinked in the tray again. /He left here at eleven o'clock last night, and he said he was going straight home. He usually messages me as soon as he gets in, so I know he's all right. But he never came online./ "Is it possible he just forgot, or was too tired?" Youji asked. Ken typed in the query. /If he was capable of it, he would have done it. Omi doesn't forget things like that. That's why I was worried./ "Shiiiit..." Ken drew the word out until it felt big enough to cover the seriousness of the situation. /Was he in school today?/ /I don't know, we don't go to the same school. Call one of his friends./ Ken clicked on the file he'd been after in the first place. He grabbed Omi's cordless phone and punched in the first number on the list, listening to it ring. Finally, a young-sounding male voice answered. "Nakamura residence, Kazuhiro speaking." That was the name on the list, so Ken replied, "Kazuhiro-kun, this is Hidaka Ken. I live with Omi. We're trying to find him. Do you know if he was in school today?" There was a surprised pause on the other end. "Tsukiyono-kun? No, he was absent today. We all figured he was just sick again, he misses so much school anyway. He didn't come to cram school, either." Ken swore again, then hastily apologized to the boy on the other end. "Could you call us if you hear from him, please? And ask anyone else he might get in touch with to do the same?" "Do you think something's happened to him? The sensei just told us today about Matsura-kun..." The boy on the other end was definitely scared now. "It might be nothing at all - he's only been missing since last night. But please, if you could just call us... do you have the number here?" "Hai. I'll get in touch with all our other friends too." "Arigatou. I'll let you know if he comes back, so you won't worry." Ken hung up, then cursed creatively. "He never showed up at school this morning, and he missed cram school as well." Quickly he bent over the keyboard once more. /You're the last person who saw him. Can you tell me exactly where you know he last was?/ There was a very long pause, and Ken wondered if the message hadn't gone through. He was about to try typing it again, when the reply came. /It's sort of complicated./ Youji shoved Ken aside and laboriously typed, /Can you meet with us to talk? We need to get all the details./ Again there was an incredibly long pause, as Youji and Ken stared at one another worriedly. Finally, /All right. Meet me in the park south of your place in half an hour. It'll take me that long to get there./ Ken typed in his agreement, and turned the computer off again. "We'd better tell Aya," he said, and Youji nodded. They bolted for the first floor.
Half an hour later all three of them approached the park, concerned and worried for their friend. It was one thing for Omi to lose track of time with his friends and forget to call to tell them he'd be late, although that would be unusual enough in and of itself. But for him to miss the entire day of school, possibly not even coming home the night before, was another thing entirely. It was starting to fog up as they'd left the Koneko, and by the time they made it to the park the streets were eerie beneath the lamps. They could just make out a dark-haired figured perched on one of the benches, facing them, haloed by a streetlight. As they got closer, the person stood, holding their hands out to their side as if to say 'I'm unarmed.' But why would they feel the need to... Ken froze as he finally got a glimpse of the person's face, and heard Youji hiss behind him. "You!" Nagi faced them calmly, keeping his arms out to his sides unthreateningly. Of course, that gesture didn't mean a whole hell of a lot when you were a telekinetic who didn't need to use his hands. He stared at them, gaze level and steady, as if daring them to attack him first. "What are you doing here?" Aya demanded, looking like he wanted his katana at least as badly as Ken wanted his bugnuks. Nagi just blinked at him, unruffled by their obvious hostility. "Ken asked me to meet him," he replied softly. Ken's eyes widened as he realized the implications. "You're 'Koi'?" he blurted out, startled. Nagi's mouth quirked briefly, as though he was fighting a smile. "Is that what he's got me re-named as?" There was a thread of amusement in the younger assassin's voice. "Cute. Which is typical of him, I suppose. My usual screen name is Kodoku." "But you're... why would he..." Ken stammered, searching for words. "Call me 'koi'?" Nagi supplied for him helpfully. Ken nodded. "Probably because that's what he usually calls me in person. At least, when we're alone." His smirk looked suspiciously like he'd been taking lessons from Schuldich, and Ken turned red and spluttered. "Enough!" Aya's voice cut into Ken's incoherence, calming him a little. "If you're trying again to convince us that Omi is a traitor, you will not succeed," the redhead said in his iciest tone of voice. Nagi sighed. "He's not a traitor, and neither am I - though if Crawford or Schuldich ever found out about this, they'd likely kill us both. We've been friends on the net for years, long before Weiss even existed. A few months ago we agreed to meet each other in public and," he shrugged carelessly, "after a lot of fights and arguments, we agreed to keep our lives as assassins separate from our friendship." Though he tried to hide it, there was a wistful look in his eyes similar to the one Omi sometimes had as he added, "It was nice having someone I didn't have to hide anything from." The Weiss assassins digested that for a long moment, and he watched them, never losing his calm. "All right, so you're friends. That doesn't explain why he'd call you 'koi'," Ken finally said. Nagi stared at him. "You mean you really HAVEN'T figured it out?" he asked in patent disbelief. "He said you hadn't, but I didn't think even you were that unobservant..." Youji growled at him. "What are you talking about?" Nagi rolled his eyes. "Omi's about as straight as a pretzel. We've been lovers for most of the last two months." "But Ouka...!" Ken protested, gaping. "Was a crush," Nagi retorted. "Which, you'll note, he was perfectly happy to abandon in order to treat her as a sister. And she is, to my knowledge, the ONLY girl he's ever even looked twice at." Aya opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get a word out Ken grabbed at his arm, turning pale. "Aya! That means Omi DOES fit the profile! All of it!" "Fuck!" Youji exclaimed. "Does anyone else know about Omi's preferences?" he demanded of Nagi. Nagi blinked at him, clearly confused. "Most of his school, I think. He doesn't exactly make an effort to keep it secret, though he certainly doesn't go around talking about it. What profile?" Aya studied him for a long moment, before replying. "We're tracking a serial killer right now. His profile is young, beautiful males who are known or suspected to be gay." He paused significantly. "He's overdue to take another victim." Nagi's eyes widened and he turned even paler than Ken. "But then... if Omi's missing..." The idea was clearly upsetting to him, a fact that earned him a few points in the Weiss members' estimations. "We have to find him! How long until..." "Five days," Ken answered in a harsh whisper. "The bodies are found after five days, drowned. And he's already been missing for most of a day." All four assassins stared at one another, hatreds and differences forgotten in their concern for their friend.
Omi woke slowly, head pounding. There was a very bright light shining above him, flickering almost imperceptibly in the way that fluorescent lights did. The surface beneath his back was solid and hard, but his left arm was dangling down over an edge. His head was still swimming, but he didn't feel injured at all, so he made himself sit up slowly. He was alone, in a very strange little room. The floor and two of the walls were made of ceramic tile, of the sort you usually found in bathrooms. The other two walls were either glass or clear plastic, and the room beyond them was dark. The light was coming from the ceiling, about twice his height off the ground. There were several pipes running along the ceiling, with what looked like little nozzles or spouts at regular intervals. In one corner was a utilitarian urinal, and the only other furniture in the room was the metal bench he was lying on, which was bolted to one of the ceramic walls. One hand on his head to try to keep it steady, he stood and wobbled over to the clear walls. His strength was coming back quickly as the drug wore off, the vague numbness replaced quickly with fear. He couldn't see any kind of door at all, and he wondered how his kidnapper had gotten him into the room. Once he was up next to the plastic, he could make out a video camera on a tripod a few feet away. He stared at it, eyes wide. "Who are you?" he whispered, wondering if there was a sound pickup as well. "What do you want with me?" There was no answer, of course, and he turned to try to find the way out. Fifteen minutes later he glumly concluded that the door must be in the ceiling high above him. If he'd had a rope of any kind he could have slung it over one of the pipes and climbed, but he hadn't been expecting any trouble when he'd left the shop, so he'd only brought a few darts as an emergency backup weapon. Those, he noted quickly, were gone. There was no way for him to climb the walls and check out the ceiling. He tried pounding on the plastic walls, but they were several inches thick and didn't even bend no matter how hard he threw himself against them. He tried prying the bench away from the wall, hoping to bash at the walls with it, but the bolts were tight and wouldn't budge. Finally he collapsed back down onto the bench, trying to keep the fear encroaching on his mind at bay so that he could think. "The others will realize I'm missing soon," he said aloud, just to hear a voice in the eerie quiet of the room. He shivered as the acoustics made his voice echo back strangely. "This HAS to be the same guy we're already looking for. The victims were drowned, and less than a day before they were found, so I've got about four days grace, depending on how long I've already been in here. I'll be fine, I just have to keep from panicking until the guys find me." He'd already checked to see if he still had his homing beacon, hoping to activate it and let the others find him more quickly, but it had been taken with the darts. He tried to convince himself that they would find him soon anyway, but in his heart he knew they'd had very few leads. They'd all known that they likely wouldn't find the killer before he took another victim. The fact that his next victim had been Omi himself didn't change things - in fact, it only slowed them down. He was working on some relaxation techniques he'd learned from Kritiker, when the first spray hit him. The water from the pipes was shockingly cold, and he shrieked with surprise at the first blast, jumping to his feet. Frantically he shielded his eyes with his hands, peering upwards towards the source of the sudden downpour. Only a few of the nozzles were spraying, and a previously over-looked drain in the center of the floor was more than keeping up with the flow. The water was in no danger of rising. It was, however, absolutely freezing, and Omi started shivering quickly. He scrambled into the only cover the room offered, huddling miserably under the bench, and felt hot tears sliding over the chilled flesh of his cheeks. "Ken-kun..." he whispered, teeth chattering. "Aya-kun, Youji-kun... onegai, tasukete!" | |
|
|