Disclaimers: Tarzan…no…own…cartoon.

Warnings: Shounen ai, moderate sap, weird weird weird dream sequence (but it made my friend laugh, so I guess it works, hehe), even weirder Another Story Akugi at the end. **giggles** It’s late. Sugar and caffeine levels are high. And if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce, it tastes more like prunes than rhubarb does. (Quote courtesy of Groucho Marx, who apparently was also on a constant sugar/caffeine high. ^_^ )

Harpo: **Honk honk!!**

Make that two hard-boiled eggs!

Notes: Mouse-chan is very scary. She hasn’t even been watching Marx Brothers movies, and yet, she seems to have devoted this introduction to quoting them and talking about herself in the third person. BUT ANYWAY… I’m SO incredibly happy that you guys like this! ^_^n You guys are way too nice, though…well, anyway…I hope this chapter’s okay. I’m sorry so many of you are sick (Kokkei and Kryssa et al), and maybe by the time I post this you’ll be feeling better. ^___^ And Butterfly Ishida, hehe… "Seishi Bitch Fight" is now the unofficial name of Chapter Thirteen. ^_^ Have fun, everyone!

It was late when we finally got to the police station. I mean really late. Not "Gee, I just looked at the clock and it’s a little past my bedtime" late. It was "Even the pizza places are closed now" late.

Now, lateness is relative, especially when one happens to be a college student. So perhaps the lateness would not be considered fantastically late by some of the above, who stay glued to their computers until five o’clock in the morning six or seven days a week. But to the average joe, and even for most college students, three o’clock in the morning was pretty darn late.

We had driven there in silence, Houjun probably pondering THE PAST (in all capitals, as it’s fairly important), and me…well…if I would’ve tried to do that, I would have fallen asleep. So. My exhausted mind decided to follow a slightly different circle of thought.

My family wasn’t exactly the hugging type; I’d grown up in my own little circle of personal space. Maybe normal families were all huggy like that. Maybe that was the normal way to be.

Maybe not.

"It’s closed," said Houjun.

I blinked, hitting the stop button on my rambling mind. "Huh?"

"The police station’s closed."

Squinting up at the sign on the door of the brick building next to which he’d pulled up, I saw it, too: HOURS: 5 a.m.—Midnight. And then, in small red print under the numbers, "No visitors past 12:00 a.m."

I breathed out a sigh of disappointment, certain my brow had begun to crease in worry.

"We might’ve known," said Houjun, trying to seem unperturbed and cheerful. Given all that had happened, both between us and to Gen-chan, he wasn’t one hundred percent successful, and it came out rather weakly.

"Only two hours until five o’clock," Houjun said. "We can wait, if you want."

I refrained from pointing out that if we didn’t sleep all night and then tried to get in to see Gen-chan, the police officers would think they were being attacked by the Living Dead. Myojuan and Saihitei drove up beside us not much later, and I felt like I was about to pass out, I was so tired.

Saihitei and Houjun were having a conversation from the drivers’ seats about the Situation, and I peered over blearily at Saihitei’s handsome, attentive face.

Without bothering to think things through at all, I exited Taka’s car, opened Saihitei’s door, climbed onto his lap, and promptly fell asleep.

Well, if he can be randomly touchy-feely, I can be, too, I thought as I drifted off. Hehehe, I think I must’ve surprised him…

~*~

~*~

"Wkup…wkup…"

"Seems to me like you’re already up."

Prying my eyes open, I found myself looking at Myojuan. He was smiling faintly.

"I take it you two are going together?" said the big med student.

Raising a fist to my eye, I started to sit up, then realized I was in quite an… unusual…position. For a moment, I just sat there (on his lap on his lap on his lap how the hell did you get here??!!!) silently, blinking at Saihitei’s smiling face.

"Sleep well?" he inquired politely.

"Did I get here by myself?"

He nodded.

"Uhhhhhmmmmmm…sorry!" WHAT WERE YOU THIIIIIIIINKIIIIIING????!!!! "Sorry, sorry sorry…I didn’t, I mean…I was tired, and…the custard…" I scrambled off his lap, opening the car door and hopping into the street. "WELL…" Ignore it, just ignore it. Be cool. Think Paul Newman. "What time is it?"

"Time to get a new watch!!" said Miaka.

Yup, there he was, leaning against his own dilapidated car.

Shut up.

He’d said he’d tell them, and that he’d tell them soon. I wished he would do it ASAP, like this afternoon, or something, because I was afraid I’d accidentally spill the beans and make him all paranoid and untrusting.

"Nearly time," said Saihitei. "Five minutes or so."

"We shouldn’t all go in at once," said Taka. "They might not like that."

"Let me go in, please?" I said quickly. I had to see Gen-chan, to make sure he was all right. After spending the last five hours in a state of almost constant worry, now that we were so close to seeing him, I felt I would lose what little sanity I had left if I couldn’t.

"And me," said Doukun. "I’ll go. I’m pretty familiar with legal procedures. Maybe I can help out somehow."

Saihitei nodded, and reached for his wallet. "Here…there probably won’t be bail, since he’s presumably been arrested for arson…but if there is, take this and pay it." He dug a pen from his coat pocket and scribbled out a check. "Just fill in whatever amount they ask for."

Doukun took it and nodded back at him.

And a police car pulled into the parking lot.

We all stared at the tall, thin man who emerged from the vehicle, fumbling with his keys and making his way toward the door of the place. It took him a while to notice us, but when he did, he stopped in his tracks.

"You guys waiting for something?" he asked.

"One of our friends is being held here," said Doukun. "We’d like to speak to someone about bail, and his situation as a whole."

He nodded. "I can arrange that, I s’pose…mite early fer kids to be out, innit?"

Shrugging, Doukun and I followed him up the steps; he unlocked the door, and the three of us stepped into the building.

"So, this pal of yers, he picked up fer drinkin?"

"Not exactly," I mumbled.

He led us into a small room with only a desk and a bunch of file cabinets to occupy it. There was a guy with glasses sitting behind the desk, engrossed in paperwork, about half a dozen empty Styrofoam coffee cups sprawled haphazardly in front of him.

"Hey, Sergeant…coupla kids to see ya," said Policeman Number One.

The Sergeant lifted red-rimmed, pale blue eyes to Doukun and me, and blinked behind his glasses. "Already?"

"Gonna go check in. When’s yer shift end, like seven?"

"Yes." The guy behind the desk cleared his throat as Policeman Number One shot us a wave and made his way out. "Well…what can I do for you kids?" He was squinting, probably because he was as tired as we were, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Doukun explained what had happened, and who we’d come for.

"Hm," said the Sergeant. "Red-headed arsonist. No irony there. No, sir. Well, I’m afraid there’s not a whole lot I can do…"

My heart sank, even though we’d figured as much. "Can we see him, at least? Please?"

"See him? I suppose so. Follow me, he’s right through here…" Standing, he ushered us through the same door the other guy’d gone through, which led into a long row of cells. "He’s in that one, right at the end," he indicated, and I immediately hurried over; Doukun stayed behind with the Sergeant, presumably to haggle or debate laws or something.

Genrou was sitting near the bars, his back to the wall, head tilted back, studying the cracks in the cement across the way. He had heavier bags under his eyes than normal, and looked almost eerily sad and sedate.

I fell to my knees beside him, hands on the bars of his cell, my sigh of relief having left me completely devoid of any power to keep myself standing. "Gen-chan?"

With a tiny frown, his head rolled to face me.

"Ryuuen," he said hoarsely, after a moment spent studying my face. "Ryuuen, I…I didn’t mean to. Shit, I didn’t think it would actually work. Who would believe a thing like that, anyway?"

"It’s not your fault," I told him slowly, keeping my voice quiet so that the whole place couldn’t hear me. "You didn’t hurt anyone. And you didn’t mean for it to happen." He’s hardly cussing at all. Crap. That means he’s gotta be pretty shaken up.

"Who would believe a thing like that?" he mused almost drunkenly, returning his eyes to the far wall.

"G-Gen-chan…" Maybe this isn’t the right time to start this, but I don’t know what else to say! "Saihitei wasn’t…he was telling the truth. He’s not trying to corrupt me, or anything. Or you."

He closed his eyes. "I know. Think I could see what the goddamn fan thing did to that building and still not believe it? I’m not an idiot."

My hands fell to my lap, and I curled my legs up beneath me. "I’m just sorry we couldn’t find a better way…"

"Ryuu-chan. You’re not the one who torched the damn place. I am." He gave the tiniest of smiles, and a canine poked out from under his lip. "And I…I guess I can be kind of a pain sometimes, always actin like yer goddamn mom. But I just…I couldn’t take it if anything happened to ya, man. I wasn’t there last time, and look what happened. I wasn’t there ta protect ya, and just look at the awful shit that happened…I couldn’t take goin through that hell again."

Last time?

"You…you mean, that thing with Chuin?" I said stupidly.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at me again. "Goddammit. No. I was tryin to think of a fuckin subtle way to tell you I’ve been rememberin stuff. Ever since you guys decided to drop the fuckin bomb, I’ve had stuff popping into my brain. Emotional shit, ya know. Nothin solid. Except…I remember you dyin." He shivered. "Fuckin great way to start."

"I don’t," I murmured softly.

"Huh?"

"I don’t. Remember dying, I mean," I clarified, barely above a whisper. His emotions carried over into his next lives!! How cool is that??? He couldn’t protect me back then, so he does now!! Awwww, how sentimental and squishy!! But really, it’s kinda depressing…with this and with Houjun…it must be kind of a bummer to remember all this traumatic stuff. I mean, jeez…when one dies, one would assume that one would be rid of all their troubles.

"Don’t know if ya wanna fuckin remember," Gen-chan said ruefully. "Not that. Yer own death? What, ya fuckin nuts or somethin?"

"Have you ever had a dream where it seemed like you were in a music video?" I asked seriously.

"What the hell, Ryuuen??!!"

"You know," I explained, "where you start singing and dancing and stuff?"

The appalled look in his eyes told me that, no, he had not had such dreams, and would likely have overdosed on sleeping pills if he had.

"Never mind," I said quickly, but my mission had been accomplished: the mood had been lightened.

"I’m in a fuckin jail cell, and you’re fuckin blabbin to me about shit like that??!!!"

"Will you guys simmer down? You’re not helping," said Doukun, suddenly appearing beside us.

I looked up at him anxiously. "Well?? What did he say?" Doukun doesn’t know about anything yet. Just keep that in mind. Don’t be a moron.

"He said there are two witnesses who allegedly saw Genrou set the place on fire with some kind of big torch-like thing," Doukun frowned. "But that’s ridiculous, really, since there’s no way something that small could’ve ignited an entire building like that. And even if it could, Genrou wouldn’t have been able to get a hold of it, given the fact that he is not now and has never been James Bond."

Gen-chan glowered at him through the bars.

"So no bail, then?"

Doukun sighed, then looked over at the Sergeant; I did the same.

What we saw was slightly surprising.

He’d never really come off as the big, macho, donut-eating policeman type, but at the moment he was staring at us in confusion, arms hanging limply, not seeming to notice that we were staring back at him.

But he frowned suddenly, gave a slight shake of his head, cleared his throat, and stepped over to stand behind us, his hand reaching for his keys. "You’re right," he mumbled. "You’re absolutely right. It’s ridiculous. No one could have done that, least of all a college kid like this." Slipping us a small, nervous smile, he shoved a key in the lock of Gen-chan’s cell and twisted it; Gen-chan scrambled to his feet in unmasked shock, mouth agape, mirroring Doukun’s and my expression.

"Um…ah…" said Doukun, trying to come up with something brilliant to say, but apparently finding his stash of brilliant sayings somewhat empty at the moment.

The door creaked open, and the Sergeant stepped back.

For the longest time, the three of us just stood there, staring at the open door as if we’d never seen a door before. Genrou moved his eyes rapidly between us and the police officer, a suspicious look beginning to bloom on his face, conveying to the rest of us that he wasn’t sure he should take the step from cell to hall, worried it might be some sort of trap to trump up the charges against him, or something.

"You’re…free to go," said the Sergeant, as if surprising himself with his own words.

We all stared at him some more.

"R…really?" I squeaked finally.

He nodded, and shot a glance down the hall. "You’re absolutely right. It’s ridiculous. A little thing like that making a building explode. It was quite an old building, wasn’t it? Old buildings like those get gas leaks all the time, and especially in a diner, with grease and fast food equipment lying all around… As for the so-called ‘witnesses,’ well…they were more than slightly intoxicated."

He was met with our disbelieving, wide-eyed faces, waiting for him to announce that, oh, whoops, he was joking. But he never did.

Cocking a slim eyebrow at us, the Sergeant tilted his head toward the door. "Well? Get going. Get going before someone else decides to stop by, in which case there really will be nothing I can do. I’ll take care of it."

Gen-chan darted out of the cell at once, with Doukun and I close at his heels. We passed Police Officer Number One on the way, leaving him in the dust like a trio of roadrunners as we flung open the front door of the station and hopped into the parking lot. Doukun bounced proudly over to all our friends, all of whom were rendered speechless by the sudden appearance of Genrou, and began to explain the strange event when their voices grew strong enough to ask a million and a half questions. Gen-chan and I paused halfway down the stairs, both turning to look back at the building behind us.

"Ryuu-chan," he breathed, "that guy…that fuckin guy…seem familiar to you at all?"

I looked at him, doing my usual Marty Feldman imitation (you know, with the bug eyes…well, why the heck else would I be imitating him??? For crying out loud), and he met my gaze…

…And the image of a cruel, yellow-haired outsider, the reason we’d suffered so much in the past, the reason so many of us had died, arose in my mind… An armor-clad general surrounded by a soft azure glow, with sky-blue eyes that did not seem so weak when they weren’t trapped behind a pair of glasses.

TBC…

Notes: Heehee. ^_^ Okay. Things I’m sorry about for this chapter:

1. Nuriko musing about why people hug him. Hehehehe. Well, I was rereading some of one of the chapters and realized that Hotohori hugs Nuriko about once a paragraph. He seems, in fact, to be suffering from obsessive compulsive hugging disorder. BUT…I was watching the first few episodes of FY with my newly addicted friend the other day, and realized that it’s actually okay, because Hotohori hugs Miaka at least once an episode. ^_^ He’s just a huggy guy. And since he loves Nuriko in this story, well, the hugs will transfer over to him. ^_^ And one must also consider the fact that, out of all the people in FY, Nuriko tops the list of Characters Most In Need Of A Hug. Right, Kaze-chan? ^_^ Of course right.
2. Sorry about the messed up dream sequence. Ehehehehehehehehe. ^_^ It’s probably pretty boring and more than a little stupid, but I just like that song. ^_^

ANOTHER STORY AKUGI

Ryuuen: Great God, what the hell was happening? Dream sequence? What the hell? Something out of Oklahoma!!

[The entire cast is suddenly dressed in cowboy outfits]

Hotohori: This is so humiliating. I could deal with the singing, but…these outfits.

Miaka: Shhhh!!! Get in character!!!

Hotohori: [clears throat] Ah cain’t take much more a this, Miaka!! Ah wanna make ya mah brahde!

Tamahome: Aw no ya don’t, bubba! Miaka’s MAHNE!

Miaka: Aw gee! Ah luv Tamahome, but Hotohori is the emperor!

Nuriko: Pick Tamahome! Pick Tamahome! Ya have ev’ry reason ta pick him! Why? Well, ah’ll tell ya!!

[music starts]

Miaka: Uh…Nuriko…

Nuriko: [aside] Shut up, it’s my cue!!

[sings, to the tune of ‘Oklahoma’]
Taaaaaaaaaaamahome is the greatest feller in Konan!

Hotohori: [speaks] What the hell?!…

Nuriko: [continues to sing]
Oh, he’s debonair,
And has blue hair,
And he doesn’t wear it in a bun!

Hotohori: [furiously undoes his hair so it hangs in his face and strikes a dashing pose]

Nuriko: Taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamahome isn’t rich, but hey, his love is true
You’ll be real happ-y
As long as he
Doesn’t take a dose of kodaku!

Tamahome: [blushes with embarrassment]

Hotohori: [steps forward to say something, but Nuriko claps a hand over his mouth]

Nuriko: He’s really a joy, and to boot,
He is just so incredibly cute!

He scores a niiiiiiiiiiine!
The boy is really fiiiiiiiiiiine!
I’m tellin ya that you oughta choose Tamahome:
Hotohori….is mine!!!

FY Cast: YEE-HAW!!!! [freeze in cowboy-ish positions]

Ryuuen: Ummm, yeah…next time I’ll just stick with the Moulin Rouge dream, thankyouverymuch…

( Well, I DID warn you it was weird. ^_^ )