Title: Jellyfish Love [Chapter Thirteen] Author: Matrim Email: matrim _ no _ aijin @ yahoo . com Warnings: Opium dens, the rest of Buck-Tick sans Hidehiko, Mana and Dada, the inappropriate naming of medical equipment, people being used as tables and stuff.... Comments: Okay, I've betaed it to the best of my abilities X_x Good lord, I catch so many mistakes and I'm surprised you all still read *^^* Makes me fuzzy. Errmm...This was two chapters but then I had a problem--there was too much going on in one chapter so I decided to hold off on one bit of the plot and focus on this bit (for the next few chapters). I'm not telling you the other bit 'cause that'd be spoil-er-ing and that'd be bad. So for now you get this. The next two chapters will be highly interesting ^.~ This is the fic that never ends...yes, it goes on and on, my friends...some wierd kid started writing it not knowing what it was....and we'll keep on reading it forever just because~~~ (ad finitum) ++ Toshiya kisses Kamijo on the lips and ponders if he's really faking it all. He can tell that Kamijo was a little confused with their situation but relieved that Toshiya was something official, something more than just a friend who wanted to have sex with him. Or that's what Toshiya led him to believe. The assassin wasn't sure if he was falling for it himself but he knew that it was much more enjoyable when Kamijo lets him kiss him. Now, they didn't have to think of excuses just to be with each other. They were a 'thing' now so they could do anything they wanted to. And that's what people expected. "Should I meet you after work?" "Yes." "You can come over to my place." Toshiya tilts his head and gives him the smile. Kamijo grins because it's the first time Toshiya's ever invited him there. "See you later?" "Yeah, I'll call you." Kamijo tells him. He leans in for another kiss and Toshiya gives it to him. He clings to Kamijo for a second or so, then steps away to leave. As he walks away from the door of the other man's apartment, he stops every ten paces. He turns back and smiles to Kamijo, who was sadly enough still at the door. Love makes people do silly things even if I'm half-faking it. When Toshiya can no longer see Kamijo's door, he stops. He hails a cab to the train station. He stops briefly at home. He changes his clothes and slips into something dark blue—nearly black—and tight. His official working clothes. Hakuei and the others once tore a similar outfit off of him because they liked the way Toshiya looked. But those times are behind him now. If they knew he had Kamijo, they'd never forgive him. Toshiya allows himself to feel a tiny amount of guilt over it then he moves on. He slips out of his home and heads downtown. The building he wants is located a few blocks away from Kyo's office. It isn't what it seems. It looks like a temple or a school or even some sort of inn, but it isn't. Toshiya goes up to the gate, knocks and gives his name when someone from an intercom asks. The gate opens with a buzzing noise. He walks through the small rock garden and into the building. Opium den is the first thing that comes to mind. It was Izam, who gave it that name—Izam, who took Toshiya here for training and for weapons. An unnatural silence existed within the walls of the building and a hint of it could be felt outside in the garden. Toshiya opens a sliding door and lets himself inside. He has not seen anyone, even though it has been rumored that many people live here and work here. The house, if it could be called a house, was a maze. There were a series of sliding doors and red curtains. He had no idea why it had to be red. All in all, it was annoying. He pushes his way through them and turns left, but he has to close his eyes when he walks. He can only open his eyes when he pauses to think. Long ago, when he was told he had to go here alone, Izam told him that he had to memorize the halls or he'd be lost. No one'd help him. And to help him remember, Izam had blindfolded him and made him remember. There is a musky sweet smell on the air—like incense—but different. This was one part of the reason why Izam called it an opium den. Toshiya shakes his head and stops suddenly. He hasn't lost the way. He doesn't think he has. He thinks for a few moments then opens his eyes. He looks at the door in front of him and the curtain to the right of him. The way he needs to go is located where he least expects it. He closes his eyes and on a whim, pushes the red silk aside and opens a sliding door. "We were expecting you." Comes a soft voice. Toshiya closes the door behind him and steps into the dim room. It is lit only by a few candles. He doesn't understand the aversion to light but the man sitting behind the writing desk has always been that way. Imai sets his calligraphy brush down and slips his arms into the sleeves of his kimono. "Who do you wish to kill?" "Shinya." Imai's eyes drop down to the table as if he's thinking something that isn't at all pleasant. "Why you? Not Aiji?" "The plans have changed." "It has only changed because Aiji's in the morgue." Imai responds in that same quiet voice of his. It sounds like a father mocking a prodigal son. "And because Kengo is only there to cause strife. He is the one who told us. And now you have this big responsibility on your shoulders." Toshiya ignores the idea that he changed everything and that he possibly might have made Kyo upset. "Is he alive?" "Just barely." Imai looks up. His eyes tell Toshiya that he knows that Toshiya doesn't really care. He gestures in front of him. "Sit down. Will you have tea?" At Toshiya's nod, a sliding door to Toshiya's left opens and a man dressed in green and white places a cup of tea on the table for Imai and Toshiya. As soon as he leaves, Imai's speaking again. "Shinya is not an easy man to kill. I want you to remember that." Toshiya sips his tea, ignoring the fact that Imai is watching him like a vulture eyes a carcass. "It would be an interesting maneuver to kill his people but that tends to make him angry. And we've seen the effects of his anger." Imai's lips curve into a very brief smile. "It's impressive." When Toshiya sets down his cup, Imai takes up his own cup and takes a sip of tea. "What sort of man is he? You must've glimpsed a sight of him at least once." Toshiya focuses on a blank spot on the wall. Over the years, he's caught a few glimpses of the man and he spotted him at the club when he was leaving. He lists things off as it comes to his head. "Elegant. Alert. Silent. Caring. Nearly cold. Efficient." And he doesn't care if he's stated a contradiction in what he's said. It's true. "I see." Is all Imai says. He picks up a bell that rests on the writing table and gives it a ring. The door to the side opens once again and a man dressed in black and white is there. He looks like the man who brought the tea. The resemblance is in the long black hair and in the way they move. "Matatabi. Please bring the rapier and the dagger." A nod and the door closes once more. "People underestimate the deadliness of European weapons. It is not who created the weapon but how it's used. But it is the way of one culture to believe its own weapons are the best, no?" Imai's eyes watch Toshiya carefully. Toshiya nods. He's right. It's one of the things he's been taught as an assassin. The door slides open again and Matatabi is there to hand Imai a sheathed rapier and a dagger. Imai takes it and unsheathes the rapier and holds it up to stare at it with a weapons master's critical eye. "Do you know to use this, Toshiya?" "Yes." "Well enough to kill with it? Defend yourself with it? It's not like Aiji's weapons. Do you need another lesson?" Toshiya doesn't trust Imai holding an unsheathed rapier—not with that look in his eyes. But he knows he needs extra training. He knows that Shinya will not be easy to kill. "Yes. I need another lesson." "Very well." Imai smiles and Toshiya thinks of Aiji in the morgue. And wonders if he won't see him there sometime in the near future. ++ It is a cold cruel world that receives Aiji back into its unloving arms. As consciousness slowly trickles back, he is aware of familiar little things. The metal under his butt is warm. The metal near his feet is cold. There's a breeze coming from somewhere and its freezing. It's air conditioned and he has a bad feeling that he knows where he is. He can hear the beep of the machine that monitors his heart beat. He's never learned the name of it, no matter how many times he's been in this room. It's only been twice but now would be the third time. Aiji doesn't care about it enough to inquire about its name. He's aware that he's naked and bandaged. He hasn't moved yet. He knows it's going to hurt as soon as he tries. Aiji wishes that it were a regular morning, where he could just roll over and go to sleep without worrying about pain. Then again, he hadn't expected to wake up. Kyo must know where I am then. If I'm in this room, patched up and naked—he must know where I am. Perhaps…I've succeeded. Aiji is content with this fact until he notices something unfamiliar in the room. Someone else's breathing. Someone else's heart monitor machine. Aiji's eyes pop open (and there are bandages on his face but nothing that obscures his view) and slowly, he turns his head to the side. As soon as his eyes fall onto the man that put him on the cold metal table, he does the thing that most sensible bodies in pain usually try to avoid doing— --he sits up. Pain shoots through his entire body. He keeps the scream that threatens to break free from his body locked behind clenched teeth. Sweat starts to drip from his body and his heart races. He wants to cry and gibber in pain and agony but Aiji refuses to give in. Kyo taught him better than this. When he looks to the side, he sees that Kirito's done the same thing he has. He just looks a hell of a lot angrier about it. As soon as Kirito sees that Aiji is looking at him, he's reaching for something to throw. The first thing his hand grabs onto that isn't hooked up to him and doing something important is a bedpan. He throws it and it slams against Aiji's leg and clatters to the floor. Thankfully, it's empty and Aiji keeps from screaming once again. Aiji scours the area around him quickly. He picks up a random beaker from the table next to him and throws it at Kirito. It misses but only because Kirito starts to do something that makes Aiji furious. He tries to stand. He can't possibly do that. Aiji tells himself. That much pain all at once—he can't do that! Aiji tries to stand as well but the basement door slams open. He stays where he is just as their caretakers come running down the stairs. Yu~ki wheels them apart (as if that could do anything!) and Kozi tackles Kirito to the table. Aiji would laugh if it didn't hurt so much. Serves him right for trying to stand. Aiji thinks to himself. Kirito growls, angry and feral. If Kirito hadn't tried to cut his hamstring earlier, Aiji might've liked the sound of it. "Okay, the boys don't want to play nice." "We could drag one up to the kitchen." Kozi says this as he pins Kirito down. He uses his entire body to do this and doesn't seem to care that Kirito was swearing and obviously in pain. Kozi was never gentle and Yu~ki wasn't any better. "Get off me, you—" "Careful. I put you back together and in this state, I can just as easily take you back apart." "I don't want to be used as your damn table again!" Aiji snaps because if everyone's going to be yelling, he might as well have his say. Yu~ki ignores him, of course, and just seems to think. Aiji doesn't want to go upstairs. He wasn't kidding about the table thing. Yu~ki tended to put his paper plates on him when he thought Aiji was sleeping. Plus, there are no elevators here so dragging him up means a lot of pain. He could walk up the stairs but he didn't want Kirito seeing him weak and slowly puttering around like an old man. Finally, Yu~ki nods. "No more talking. Aiji and I are going upstairs." Yu~ki grabs him and begins carrying him up the stairs. Aiji closes his eyes and pretends he's somewhere else. Puttering around might be more preferable than being carried like some sort of bride up the stairs. "Say goodbye to your little friend, Aiji." Aiji's eyes fly open to glare at Yu~ki. It's ineffective because Yu~ki just smirks like it's all funny. At times like these, Aiji's reminded exactly why he hates vampires. ++ When the doorbell rings in its extravagant chimes-like way, Toll looks up from his book and gives Uta a look. They both stand from their seats in the library and make their way to the front door. It takes about a minute or so, considering the house they possess is designed to be a European mansion. When Toll opens the door, the figure on the doorstep catches him by surprise and nearly makes him step back. He is not dressed in his customary red but in black and gives Toll a deep bow. He's elegant as always; it's strange how Shinya manages to attract people like that. "I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, but I'm afraid that I'll be working again." And when the man straightens up, his eyes are full of determination and a tiny smidgen of worry. "Not at all. Shinya told us you were coming by." Uta says and Toll nods. They usher the man into the house and close it behind him. "I'm also sorry to bother you about this but do you have my weapons? I'm not exactly sure if you—" "We saved them. We save everything." "Did you know I was coming back?" "No. But we never let a good weapon go to waste," Toll smiles and they lead the man into a back room filled with every deadly instrument available to man. They stand off to the side and watch as the assassin carefully walks through the room and begins to inspect it all. He moves slow, stealthy, and aware. Every now and again, he pauses to run his hands over a gun or a knife or a spear. "I try not to think that this must be desperate times if he needs me. I haven't seen Kirito or Luci, have you?" "Kirito's in the morgue. We haven't heard or seen Luci for awhile. You could ask Shinya?" Uta suggests and the assassin shakes his head. "No. It's not my business. I suppose he would have told me if it were important, hm?" He sighs then and for a moment, he looks sad and resigned to his fate. It is then that he seems to spot what he wants. He reaches forward with a small smile and holds up a rapier and a dagger. "You took good care of them." "Yes. Did you take care of your skill?" Toll asks. A sudden quiet laugh. "Yes. Though, again, I had to pretend to be something I wasn't. Being a swords master on a movie set is a silly occupation especially when this country prefers its own swords. I'm always pretending lately. I suppose that it stops now." He raises his head, flicks the rapier a certain way and takes a stance. He begins to duel with an invisible opponent and when Toll glances to Uta, he smiles. They both like seeing weapons put to good use especially in the right hands. "Mmm…" The assassin stops. "I don't want to put anyone in the morgue." "Hm?" "It's sloppy." The man gives a rueful smile. He straightens and no longer is he sad or resigned or anything. He looks composed and focused. "It means I've failed and I don't fail." He sheathes the rapier and buckles it around his waist. He continues to hold the dagger in his hands. "It is best to be prepared. Shinya says he expects something within the next few days so, Uta, if you would be so kind as to spar with me? I'm sure Master Toll wouldn't want to bother with me?" The brothers laugh and shake their head. "No. We'll both spar with you." Uta tells him. "Toll isn't so old that he can't afford a few hits now and again. He just might surprise you." They close the doors of the weapons' room and begin to suit up. The assassin smiles at the two of them, polite and cold. He is all business now and it's such a change from the family talk they were having before. If one weren't used to it, they could be easily scared into begging for their lives. "Good. I always love surprises." ++ Sometime, in the past few days, Dada and Mana had struck up some sort of understanding and a bit of an agreement. Dada is willing to admit that he has no idea how this happened. Mana may be holding his hand quietly in his lap and petting it like Dada was the girl of the relationship but it doesn't mean he knows how it happened. And last time he checked, there were no women in the relationship, just men who had questionable tastes in clothing and occupations. Dada doesn't entirely mind but he needs that hand because he uses that hand to put on his makeup. So he says so. "You have enough makeup," Mana tells him. "To you, maybe, but I'm not done yet." Mana gives him a look but doesn't release his hand. Dada ponders doing something quite perverted to Mana with his hand but decides not to. It takes a lot more makeup to cover bruises. He tries a different tactic. "What if the boys see?" "I'll let go before they come in." But Mana's voice has a tone under it that says, 'We were together alone in the dressing room for hours not doing anything more illicit than a small kiss given to a cheek and you think they don't know what we're up to?' Dada supposes it's fair and tries not to get angry. Mana would just make him look like an idiot. He's been doing that a lot lately and he wasn't going to be a puppet who danced to Mana's whims. This was ridiculous because he kind of was if you considered the fact that he hadn't wrestled his hand back from Mana. "You don't need so much make up." Mana blinks at him sincerely with long black eyelashes. "I don't wear nearly as much as you do." "I'm supposed to. That's the image. Bad drag queen. Absinthe drinker. Seducer of innocent dolls." Mana only snorts. He scoots his chair closer and when the door of the dressing room opens, he releases Dada's hand. Dada grins at Yura in the mirror and goes back to his makeup. They look odd in the mirror. Mana's never sat this close to him before and he's never looked this relaxed. Mana catches him looking at him in the mirror. A perfect eyebrow arches but he doesn't say anything. Dada rolls his eyes and the door opens again to reveal Aya. He glances at them and gives them a smile, a greeting and goes to sit by Yura. Now Mana and Dada's attentions are no long on each other but on their errant protégés. Seek told them what had happened the other night. Aya left with some man and Yura was worried and less than thrilled. Thankfully, Mana hadn't said anything about it. So far, things seem normal. Yura and Aya are talking in low voices and no one seems to be hurting or angry. Mana and Dada exchange a look in the mirror. Nothing suspicious. Mana reaches forward and picks up a letter from the dressing room table with a white lace gloved hand. He opens it, reads it silently and offers it to Dada. Dada sets down his makeup and stands from his seat. He sits next to Aya on the small couch in the dressing room. "Aya. Seek said you and Yura were going to receive another bodyguard. His name is Lida. You'll meet him after the show, won't you?" Aya stares at the letter that Dada holds in his hands and completely misses the way Yura grins as if it's Christmas. Dada closes his eyes and wishes he were only so lucky. "Yes," Aya says because he can't say no. He has to meet Lida, at least, to be polite. "I don't think I need protecting though." "We always do…" Dada says and hates himself for saying it. ++ To Chapter Fourteen Jelly Home Fics Home