Forfeit the game. Before someone else,
Takes you out of the frame. Put your name to shame,
Cover up your face. You can't run the race,
The pace is too fast. You just won't last.

Linkin Park -- Points Of Authority



Takeru's POV


Pulse, the trendiest new night club that Daisuke and I hung out at. The music was blaring Limp Bizkit's 'My Way' in the background as the transparent whiffs of colored smoke lingered around my head. Neon lights of every fluorescent color imaginable darted, seeking out a new victim each time they blinked on and off in a mad frenzy. But my attention was brought back to Daisuke as he laughed loudly at what I had just subconsciously muttered.

"You do not."

"I do!"

"You don't know him."

"I do! We met a few months ago at a party," I replied carefully, trying to hide the smile that was curving on my lips.

"What's going on here boys?" a heavenly voice giggled as both of our heads spun around. A permanent grin splashed out on Daisuke's face as he grinned foolishly. Miyako Inoue. Goddess by creation, bartender by choice.

"Tk over here says he knew Jose Martinez. You know, the famous singer that was shot at, then mysteriously blew up yesterday night," Daisuke laughed. Now that I thought about it clearly, Jose Martinez's death was quite bizarre. It's not everyday that someone just spontaneously combusts in front of millions of people at his live concert.

"Yeah, that's what everyone says after someone famous dies," Miyako joked, lying one dry martini (double the olives) and a ginger ale down in front of us. "Hey, what's the different between Jose Martinez and your date last night?" she smirked, gazing at Daisuke thoroughly.

"They both blew up," he retorted carelessly, letting that familiar hint of mischief glaze over in his cinnamon colored eyes.

"Yeah, but only one's re-usable," Miyako's razor sharp tongue attacked as I stifled a laughed.

"You guys, that's really inappropriate," I could feel my cheeks glowing bright red as we spoke.

"Hey," Daisuke continued, "what do you get when you cross Jose Martinez, George Michael and the pope?"

"Oh, I haven't heard this one," Miyako cooed. Just as Daisuke was about to reply, his cell-phone rang.

"Your pants are ringing," Miyako noted naughtily. Daisuke just smiled confidently at her, winking as some drunk from another section called her over.

He was a balding man with a tattoo much like Daisuke's. A wreath of thorns elaborately detailed down to the points. It crossed his muscular arm snugly, blending into his (at the moment) hot pink skin. He handed Miyako a large bill, winking at her as she backed away, pulling the two glasses of gin and tonic with her.

"Hey boss," Daisuke smiled as he motioned for me to scoot in closer. I grabbed my martini, downing it clean before wincing at the bittersweet aftertaste it left. We both walked a little further down into the club, knowing every nook a cranny already.

"Put me on picture phone," Mimi snapped. Daisuke turned around, glancing over his shoulder nervously before he flicked a small button on his wristwatch. Instantly, the image of the gorgeous Mimi Kamiya appeared. Her legs were crossed, propped up on her highly reflective black marble desk.

Mimi. All knowing, all seeing and all that. The way Daisuke jokingly put it. For the last several years, she had been our mentor, our friend and on a bleaker note, the one person that held both our lives in her perfectly manicured palm.

"What's up?" I asked, munching on one of the olives from my crystal glass.

"I don't know what's up, but this's what's going down," she replied in her crisp, confidently attractive voice. "I'm sure by now you've heard of the tragic death of Jose Martinez right?"

"Someone mentioned it I think," I smirked as Daisuke shot me an amused glance.

"Well, millions of dollars are being transferred every hour to a foreign bank account, set up by his grieving family. Rapid, mourning fans are sending money, flowers, you know, all that funeral shit."

"Whose account is it?" Daisuke asked curiously, brushing back a piece of his spiked mahogany hair.

"One, Martinez Jose of Pamplona Spain. His brother Juan has been embezzling money from that very account for months now…" suddenly, her speech stopped as a seductive smile crept on her face. "Work those triceps baby…" without even having to see it, I knew Taichi was there.

Taichi Kamiya and Mimi had set up their business together. They opened a descript school for the Japanese government, only taking the most troubled and challenging students they could find. And that's how Daisuke and I met. We were assigned to be each other's shadows. From that day on, we became inseparable. We were the best the academy had ever encountered, still to this day.

"But wait a minute. He only died yesterday… how could they have been collecting money for over a month now?" I realized suddenly.

"I was wondering how long it would take before one of you noticed that," she replied rather discouragingly.

"So are you telling us that somehow, the family had been embezzling money and has been transferring it to their own accounts?" Daisuke pieced every little lose end together in a rather jumbled speech.

"That's what you have to find out. But I'm telling you this now. It's not just the bulls that are full of it. I'm sending you to Spain, so make sure you bring your maracas."

With that, she ended her message, leaving us baffled in the suddenly scorching hot bar. "Let's jet," I motioned for our car as Daisuke nodded vigorously.

"Come back soon," Miyako waved as her silver tinted nails happily motioned us goodbye. But her ice blue lips blew a kiss in Daisuke's direction as she winked, revealing a thin layer of white eye-powder.

He chuckled as we made it outside, strolling calmly over to the jet-black Shelby GT 500. The finest and most advanced car made to date. "You wanna call this or me?" he almost yawned, gazing over at me with a never-ending spark of disbelief in his eyes.

"Let me try this one," I shot him challenging look, firmly holding my ground. "Okay. Jose Martinez, pop icon and Spanish singing sensation is shot and killed on stage at his performance yesterday. As soon as his body hits the ground, it blows up, only leaving a pile of scattered dust in its place," almost at once we looked at each other, stopping at a red light and muttered, "Rigged."

"So now, they question of why. And Mimi answered that for us. The money."

"Wait a minute. Try this one. What if he was killed? What if there was some try of assassination plot put out on his head? What if one of his rival singers, like Ricky Martin or Mark Anthony decided he was becoming too popular and they killed him, making absolutely sure he died? That would explain the shot and the bomb."

"That's a lot of 'what if's'," Daisuke sighed. "Wait, Ricky Martin and Mark Anthony in an assassination plot? Takeru, you have got to stop watching those badly done spy movies."

"Jealous Daisuke?" I retorted, crossing my arms dignified.

"Please," he rolled his eyes, pressing down on a blue button that was secretly hidden beneath his seat. The car instantly began to change around us. Simple gears and switches began to hum, rotate and blink. The metamorphosis still to this day amazed me. We were no longer sitting in a plain, Shelby GT 500, but a million dollar government 'joy-ride'.

"Name and identification," the car demanded as we sharply sped down an abandoned alley. I braced myself, muttering prayers quickly, just as I always did. Daisuke drove like a manic.

"Daisuke Motomiya, code number 6930-003," there was a brief pause as the computer registered his information.

"Starting voice recognition."

"The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog," he lipped effortlessly, turning another sharp corner, pummeling down a roadside that lead to God knows where.

"Retinal scan," it followed. Daisuke leaned in, allowing the laser to quickly roll over his eye, picking out the familiar patterns that granted him access. Then, right before me, my own personal nuisance was activated.

"Name and Identification," it demanded, in my opinion, harshly. Daisuke picked up on this quickly, chuckling inwardly. For some reason, all the computers in the world had a problem with me, as I did them. Daisuke was the computer genius, not me.

"Takeru Takashi, code number 5435-767," another pause.

"Starting voice recognition."

"Jack and Jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water," I said as crisply and as maturely as I could. I always ended up with the nursery rhyme passwords.

"Retinal scan," it voiced as I leaned in. My sky blue eyes always burned after the stupid machinery finished. I rubbed my eyes vigorously as I squeezed them shut, gripping onto the leather seat intensely.

"Ready?" Daisuke asked mockingly. I simply answered him by looking over, throwing him a tired glance. He let out a roaring whoop, jamming his foot down into the gas pedal. My stomach lurched violently as Daisuke suddenly turned on the radio, letting Korn's 'Dead Bodies Everywhere' blare through the speakers. Just the song I loved listening to at times like these.

"100," he said calmly, yelling over the music. "150," Pause. "200," he was accelerating almost too quickly this time and I was desperately trying to keep my supper firmly in my stomach.

"Hit it now!" I screamed, waiting for him to jerk the car across the mountainside like a suicidal freak. Soaring up the narrow paths, he began pushing buttons and I shook my head, regaining my good senses, placing my hands over the emergency break.

"Hitting in five, four, three, two, one!" he shouted, as he headed straight for a firm mountain wall. Both our fingers shot out, slamming into the rather large, glowing yellow button that instantly opened up. I clenched down on the break, causing the automobile to halt right on the spot.

"You're a goddamn freak of nature Daisuke," I spat, happily getting out, having to hold onto the door for a little support. My legs were like jelly and my body was putting up a fierce battle with my brain over what should be done with the contents of my stomach.

"I'm well aware of that," he winked, stepping over to the elevator, holding the door for me. "You look a tad green Takeru. It clashes horribly with you blue shirt," he joked.

"Shut the hell up," I groaned, slumping down on the metal floor or the mirrored elevator. "Next time, I get the keys."

"But then we'd be allowing old grannies with walkers pass us and we'd be listening to Beethoven First Symphony the whole way!"

"Oh Daisuke, you know me better than that! I'm more of a Chopin fan!" I joked, feeling a bit more stable that I had a few moments ago. "But think of it, if I drove, then we'd know we'd get here in one piece and alive."

"Since when have I ever put our lives in danger?" he joked openly, as the elevator stopped, revealing a pure white office with metal furniture and equipment. There was a large mother computer on one entire wall, spanning a hundred meters, maybe more. Dozens of men worked on it daily, barely stopping, for that one computer ran all of the Japanese underground economy. Without it, we'd have or be nothing.

"Takeru, Daisuke. What a pleasant surprise," Koushiro Izumi, the creator of the Cordex greeted. "Yo Izumi," Daisuke smiled, carelessly tossing his head in a sign of acknowledgement. The redhead immediately walked over to us, running a hand through his messy hair, attempting to get it to stay in a decent style. The shorter man failed miserably before completely giving up and shrugged.

"I heard you two got the new case with the dead singer guy," he smiled sardonically. "Lucky buggers."

"Yeah, we'll pick you up a snow-globe in Spain," I replied bitterly.

"Yeah, cause Takeru knows Jose Martinez so well…" Daisuke mocked.

"Okay, I knew the guy! Let it drop!" I suddenly found my face tuning a delicate shade of pink.

"You two bicker like a married couple," Koushiro laughed heartily. "But listen, there's a bug in the left quadrant of the Core," he sighed deeply. "If I don't get to fixing it soon, he might shut down and then we'd only have the other three parts of the Cordex."

"Shit, fix that soon okay. Best of luck to you," I encouraged. "Oh, do you have any idea where my brother is? He has the case file for us."

"Last time I saw Lieutenant Commander Ishida, he and Lieutenant Motomiya had gone into the Grey Room to discuss the tax evasion of the Clooney family. Seems like George dipped into the savings a little too much, if you know what I mean," he motioned a bottle gesture with his hand as we both nodded.

"Grey Room it is," Daisuke sighed, shaking his head hopelessly. He knew his sister better than anyone in this whole building. Right now, she was probably demanding with a passion that they just send three of the Japanese government's highly skilled assassins, to go rip his heart out. And knowing my brother, he would dreamily agree with anything Jun said, just to make her happy.

"You know what?" I said suddenly, walking out of the office with the file in my hands.

"What?" Daisuke yawned, numbly walking over to the control pad of a high-tech Mac PC, Center provided. He deftly swept his fingers over the keys, pushing buttons, writing up commands and a various other messages to send off.

"Did you ever notice that the Cordex always has 'a bug' in it? It seems that every time Koushiro fixes it, it breaks down again. Doesn't that thing ever rest?"

"I doubt it. Do you have any idea how advanced it is? If Koushiro ever decided to go public as an engineer, he would make more than Bill Gates in less than a month. His brain thinks in numbers and quotations, unlike ours."

"He's smart, I grant him that. Like Jyou I guess. If only the upper world knew that we have the cure for the common cold!" I laughed. As soon as Jyou Kido graced Center, the medical improvements have skyrocketed. Now, we had a cure for just about every disease and a vaccination for every type of poison- lethal or not.

"Wild," he replied monotone. 'Wild,' was Daisuke's little way of communicating to the word that he was listening, but wasn't going to be responding. Or in my case, was so lost in his computer that he wouldn't even notice if another world war broke out around him.

I smiled at him, carefully noting that he was busy before sitting down in the swivel chair that was in the other corner of the room. The black knitted cotton covering was so soft as I sat down, leaving back, watching out that I didn’t lose my balance and tumble. I had done this on a number of occasions and Daisuke had never let me forget it. He somehow found a way to be near me at every moment I messed up, or made myself look like a complete fool.

But just to make things even, I saw all of his faults too. He was my best friend and I was his. Both of us were called Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum by our co-workers, so we made our code names TD 1 and TD 2.

I allowed my head to carelessly hang over the back of my chair, viewing Daisuke upside down and I smiled. I could see him smiling back at me from the surface of the computer and laughed. "You're such an idiot."

"I learnt from the master," I smirked at him, faking a false awkward bow from my position. I almost lost my precise seating and tumbled to the floor in a tangled pile of expensive Gucci clothing, but regained my balance just in time, seating myself back calmly.

It was at times like these that I knew why Mimi paired us. Personally, if I had been her, I wouldn't have even dreamed of putting us on the same assignments. We were literally, night and day. While Daisuke had this unreserved amount of charm and grace, I was usually left with this awkward, unattractive air to me. Though both of us were both drop dead gorgeous, he seemed to get all the girls.

The difference? Put a straw in my hand, I could kill an army of rifle trotting soldiers. Somehow, I could manage to make a weapon out of blades of grass. I was dangerous to say the least. Where I used my brawn, Daisuke used his brains. He was charismatic; I was sly. Where he was deathly manipulative I was just plain deadly. We made an invincible team.

A funny thing about us though, was Daisuke was the careless, reckless, partier. I was the quiet, reserved, responsible one. Together, we made up for the other's deficiencies. We were in our own sense, linked. We had grown so close, that we knew what each other was thinking, before he even had time to think it.

As individuals, we have nothing, but joined we have no competition. Though, some times both of our fiery tempers got the best of us and we jumped head first into a brick wall. Our latest case had us undercover at the Queen's castle in England, watching the guards closely. There must have been twenty attempts on her life in the first seven minutes of us entering. Daisuke had been worn down continually that time and the experience was something that neither he nor I wanted to ever do again.

I couldn't even count the number of times I stayed awake by his bedside, hushing him into sleep. And the number of times I held his hair back while he threw up was beyond me. The whole trip was a nightmare in my opinion. I was so lost in thought, I wasn't even aware that Daisuke was now hovering right above me, smiling idiotically as he laughed loudly.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty," he cooed. "Mimi just paged us," I could tell he was mocking me by the tone of his voice, but at this moment I didn’t really care.

"Did she tell why?" I asked, stretching and inevitably falling right on my back. "Shit…" I moaned out in pain.

"You know, for a highly paid killer, you are the clumsiest son of a bitch alive! You know that?"

"Apparently now I do," I snapped viciously as he held his hand out for me to take. I accepted it gratefully, pulling myself up as he instantly turned on his heels and left the small room. The lights, which were barely shimmering under the heavily veiled lampshades, turned off as soon as the door clicked shut. There were some things in this building that not even I knew about.

There was one thing I absolutely loved about coming into Mimi's office. For some reason, we were always ambushed. Well, in my personal opinion we were. I was a little paranoid come to think of it…

And this time was no different. The second I opened the door and stepped into the navy blue office, Taichi threw a long, curving dagger at the both of us. Not even conscious, I grabbed it out of the air before it smashed into my face and threw it back. Taichi angled his head to the side slightly, allowing the blade to graze by the side of his cheek.

"Nice shot," he commented.

"I know," I replied casually. Examining my palm, I noticed that the decorated hilt from the knife had imprinted itself in my flesh. Taichi always had a wicked throw. Waving it off, Daisuke stepped in, sitting down in one of the modern chairs Mimi held in her office. Basically, it was a metal pole with a thin strip of titanium surrounding the frame, holding the entire piece in place. A plush deep blue velvet cushion finished it off, giving it this air or elegance. The wonders of this place never ceased to amaze me.

"Listen up you two. This situation just got complicated," Mimi's voice commanded. I swear her voice could have made ice shudder. "We just had our sweeper team do a full scan of the stage area where Jose Martinez was killed. We have some pretty fascinating discoveries," her tone literally dripped with sarcasm.

She tossed a manila envelope in our direction and Daisuke caught it effortlessly tugging the papers out of the package. His eyes widened considerably. "Jesus! Are you serious? This is what they found?"

"We had every lab in this building check out the findings. They all came up with the same results," it was Taichi that answered. It wasn't much of an answer, but Daisuke seemed to understand.

"Sodium Nitrate?" he sighed again. "But how?"

"Salt?" I exploded suddenly. "They found salt?!"

"Yes, but this is pure. Normal table salt is purified, because on its own, sodium nitrate is very deadly. It's rare as well. There were some foreign elements found in an assortment of particles. But for all we know, it could just be dirt from the workers boots. The air carries particles, hell, if someone sneezed! Basically, all we have it that there were human ashes scattered across the stage at Fort Lauderdale. And right now, they're in jars in our lab," Mimi informed them.

"Bring me there," Daisuke asked at once. I could sense this coming. He was one of those people that had to see it to believe it. Taichi looked adoringly over at Mimi, who nodded dreamily. Taichi lead the way and Daisuke and I followed.

"Takeru, stay for a minute," Mimi suddenly shouted out. I looked over at Taichi and Daisuke, telling them to go on as I returned to Mimi's office. "Shut the door," she ordered as I did so. "Sit," and I did that as well.

"What's wrong?" I muttered, a tad unsure of what was going on.

"I think you know damn well what's going on and what's wrong," her voice was pure ice and I was frozen, unable to move. When she wanted to be, Mimi could be the most beautiful and delicate flower that you had ever laid eyes on. But every coin has two sides and with that angelic side, there was a part of her that made Satan bow down. Her amber eyes literally blare with fire as she stormed over to me, pinning me down in my seat with her eyes.

I trembled lightly, shutting my eyes as I slowly opened them. "What is it?" I almost stuttered.

"Stop shaking and grow a spine," she snapped, turning around, shaking her head. The bun that was perfectly centered and styled on her head seemed to unravel a bit as two perfect honey colored tendrils of hair cascaded down her shoulders. "Daisuke," was all she hissed.

"What about him?"

She sighed deeply, turning to me and staring me straight in the face. Her features softened slightly as she shook her head. "Listen Takeru, I know how close you and Daisuke are, so I'm going to make this as short and as questionless as possible. Did he or didn't he?"

I knew what she was talking about as my response echoed though the room firmly. "Yes."

"Dammit Takeru!" she cured, barking loud swear words. "Do you have any goddamn idea how long it took for us to get through to him? Do you know how many months we had to work on him?" "Yes," I sighed pitifully wincing as her words cut into me like a steel knife.

"You do know what'll happen if it happens again don't you?"

"Yes," I finished, balling my fist at my side.

"Then keep an eye on him. He can barely stand on his own two feet Takeru. He's a walking time bomb and I'd rather not be around when he blows."

"I'll watch him," I promised.

"Tk," she called my by my nickname, "I know what it's like having this hanging over your head. Taichi and Daisuke are a lot alike in many ways. But you have to be strong now and I cannot afford another embarrassment."

I found myself flaming mad all of a sudden. "Why Mimi? Why did you pair us up?! There are a hundred guys in the academy that can do the exact same thing I can!" I shouted to her, demanding a response.

"But none of them are you now are they?" she snapped smartly. "Listen, you and Daisuke were paired for a reason. Both of your talents come in handy only when together. If I could, I would have switched you! But I can't and now you've gotten too close to be broken apart. Putting you with someone new would just be hurting both you and Daisuke," she breathed in deeply. "Listen, he's stable. Make sure he stays that way. For a long time. You're excused now."

Without saying another word, I stood up and walked out, sulking all the way to the labs. I walked in, just in time to hear a discussion between Daisuke and Jyou.

"…All human flesh is different to some degree…" Jyou stated.

"I know that Jyou. Stuff that I didn't learn in grade nine biology please," he tisked impatiently. A smile crossed my delicate face. His patience was about as long as his attention span.

"I was getting to that," Jyou continued. "Jose Martinez has a strand of DNA that's peculiar. I managed to isolate a few red blood cells and I did a full background DNA sweep of the entire family. Margerita Martinez is blood type B negative. Antonio Martinez is blood type O positive."

"Interesting blood relations," Daisuke noted. "Both very rare."

"Yeah, but get this. The ashes were O positive!" Jyou declared. Both Taichi and I looked at each other, not having the faintest clue what they were yapping about.

"Bullshit!" Daisuke cursed. "Are you sure?"

"Both antigen and antibody are outside the cytoplasm. By all the laws of modern science, that couldn't have been Jose Martinez on the stage that night."

"Why?" I piped up, trying desperately to hold on to what they were saying.

"Okay, the way you're made, blood wise, is quite simple. Under no circumstances can you be the same blood type as your parents. Since Jose Martinez's father was O positive and he was O positive, it's physically impossible. So the ashes on the stage were purposely placed there," Jyou explained.

"So much for my theory of the assassinations," I joked to Daisuke when we left the lab, minutes later. He laughed briefly, hugging the papers to his chest protectively.

"Listen, I'm heading back to our apartment. I need some serious sleep and this case is going to require a lot of work on my part. Plus we leave for Pamplona tomorrow... GOD!" he screamed.

"They never stop working us, I know," I lightened the mood. "Get rest Daisuke. We have one hell of a trip ahead of us," he nodded, rubbing his temple before waving weakly.

Before I knew it, Daisuke had vanished down one of the long, winding corridors that Center seemed to be infamous for. I sighed mentally, wanting to walk to my room and kick myself repeatedly before I fell unconscious from pain. I hated when Mimi did this to me. And she did this to me a lot. It's a miracle I haven't had a nervous breakdown by now.

Punching in my command password, a large metal door opened, revealing one layer of solid iron. It took another password to open that, then finally a bulletproof door. Inside was my room, the training room. I spent hours in here when I wanted to vent. Some of the more babyish weapons I ignored. Going straight for the dagger set, I opened up the blood red silk and removed one carefully.

I couldn't even count the number of times I cut myself on these stupid knives. But Taichi insisted that they remained painfully sharp. It made the user more aware in a sense. It was a lesson, Taichi told me, that not only did you have to watch out for your enemy's weapons, but also your own.

I inhaled sharply, shutting my eyes lightly as a large red and white bulls-eye appeared. As soon as the tell-a-tale click echoed in the silent room, I launched the dagger right at it. In less than a second a heard a deafening 'thunk' and I opened my eyes to see where it had landed. Right in the middle as usual.

After the first dozen or so, the board become filled and cluttered. There was no more space in the middle and I gave up, throwing one last knife from in back of my head. It struck an area that had a square inch of space left and I left it at that.

"Still haven't lost your touch," Sora Takenouchi giggled flirtatiously as she stepped out of the shadows that were completely concealing her.

"Nice to see you still have your sneaking ability. I hardly noticed you were here," I commented, picking up a .22 Magnum revolver and pointed it at the dummy in front of me.

"Hardly!?" Sora shouted insulted. "Believe me Takeru, I haven't lost my touch. You didn't even flinch. I could have killed you in here and nobody would have been the wiser."

"Probably. But come on! How many spies are eavesdropping on this very conversation?" I asked smirking.

"Three that I'm aware of," she replied.

"And how many are eavesdropping on them?" I smiled widely.

"Probably dozens," she sighed. "No place in this school is kept sacred anymore. No privacy whatsoever," she complained lightly, tugging a dagger from the bulls-eye. "These things really aren't as sharp as they usually are. I'll have to get someone in here to fix that."

"Your weapon rooms are always in tip-top order," I winked at her. "That's why I like them so much."

"You lying little shit!" she exclaimed loudly, laughing her redhead off. "You always hated this place. Don't try to deny it. Sometimes the only reason I think you even come here, is so you don't go out there and kill someone. I'd hate to meet you in a dark alley," she shuddered pulling another dagger free. The tip broke off as she yanked and she cursed loudly, throwing the useless weapon to the ground. "Dammit. The only thing this is good for now is torture. And they stopped that long ago here."

"Ah, so when students get caught by their shadows, they don't get flogged anymore? Damn, that was the only way I learnt to breath softly!"

"Yeah, you seemed to get caught a lot didn't you? Daisuke was better at sneaking around. To my recollection, he never got caught."

"No, I caught him quite a few times. I just never reported him. He didn't report me either, I was caught my the officials."

"Jesus that must have hurt like a bitch."

"Yeah. Taichi and a whip aren't two things I like adding together," I shuddered. "I never wanted Daisuke to have to go through that, especially with…" I trailed off before I could say anything else.

"What?" Sora asked me, pulling another knife from the board. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Never mind anyway," I shrugged it off. "Hey, are the weight rooms still open? Or do they shut off with the rest of this place? I haven't been to the new wing recently."

"No, they're open all the time. You need the password though. Hell, what don't you need the password for anymore? They modernized this entire building! Now you can't even sneeze without having at least fifty people know!"

"Yeah, life sucks here doesn't it?" I joked. Sora shot me a wink as I left, apologizing for the broken dagger. I slowly took my time making it to the newly added wing of the school and pushed on a few buttons to open the doors. Once they swung open, I reached out, flicking on the dim light that illuminated the entire room. Much like the other wings, everything was metal and pure white marble.

I sighed, yanking off my shirt and throwing it on the weightlifting bench. I wanted to loosen up with the punching bag that seemed to tease me as I glanced at it. It had been a while since I put my black belts to use. But I made a quick note that I had to practice to get my 5th dam in Tae-Kwon-Doe.

Some of my better moves were held out to last. I mostly used my roundhouse and half crescent kicks on the upper part. Kung-Fu had taught me this unnatural patience that always made my moves lightening fast and accurate. Judo had this way of opening my mind to absolutely everything around me and Karate was just something I decided to do when I was bored out of my mind.

But for some reason, I wanted to meet Chong Lee again. The Tae-Kwon-Dow master was the only real challenge I had ever gotten in a match. Though he did manage to kick the living shit out of me, I laid a few good hits on him as well. I made a mental note to phone him up as soon as I got back from Spain.

Shit! Spain! I completely forgot about the trip tomorrow! Glancing at my mechanical watch, I saw the little hand close to the three. "Damn!" I cursed, running out of the room, grabbing my shirt skillfully on the way out. The door slammed shut instantly. Sweat beads were glistening on my back and my legs and arms were as sore as ever. Running probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do, because without a doubt I would feel this in the morning. I had to give my muscles a chance to rebuild themselves.

The last thing I wanted was another shin splint. Mimi threw a fit when I told her that I needed a week off for my leg muscle to re-attach itself to my bone. Daisuke had laughed at me the entire time, scolding me for being such an idiot. But without my protection, he sprained his wrist in the obstacle course fencing with Sora. I never understood how he did that, because he was world renown for his fencing and Kendo skills.

His talents usually lied in the marksmanship, archery fields and dueling while mine were in physical combat. The funny thing was, in the mental category, he was a genius. Put a computer in his hands, he could hack into any system. With me, I had a photographic memory. I usually memorized the codes and he figured them out. And that's us in a nutshell. We both had physical and mental abilities that exceeded the other.

I did take an hour or so, but I drove back to our apartment and collapsed in my bed like a bag of bricks. As soon as my face hit the pillow, I fell asleep, letting another dreamless night sweep over me. Sometimes, going to bed wasn't the hardest thing for me. It was waking up, having to face the reality I lived.

I had hated sleeping ever since I was younger and waking up was no different. Horrors beyond my imagination usually awaited me. I shuddered in my sleep, pulling the blankets up around my neck as I slowly lost consciousness.


Daisuke's POV


I had heard to door slam shut at four AM. Takeru was finally home. I knew the first place he would go was to sleep. He had been pushing himself the last month to make up for my 'problems'. Even though I knew he thought I had no idea what he was doing, I did. No matter how many times I told him to take it easy, my hardheaded partner just ignored me.

I sighed deeply, shaking my head of chocolate hair and returned to my work. I had to catch up quickly or else I could screw this case up. Finally fed up with examining all the chemicals that were found on the stage, I gently placed it in a separate pile and started the profiling of the family members. I had a PHD and MD in psychology and a BSC and MS in sciences and biology. Technically I was qualified to do the psychological profilings on the Martinez's but that would actually require effort…

So I opted for reading and studying them instead of trying to get into their heads. All that required was a grade two reading skill. Flipping open the case of one Margerita Martinez (born Margerita Lopez) I glanced over the words. Blah blah blah, married at fourteen in Pamplona, Spain. Blah blah blah had three kids, Jose, Juan and Emilia. Wait a minute… it said that Emilia and Jose were twins. So why didn't I have a case file for her?

Grabbing at my files carefully, I looked at all of them. No Emilia Martinez. So reading on, my attention suddenly captured, I found out that Emilia was kidnapped at age five and now presumed dead. No other information. How odd. Now both twins were gone. Actually, that was pretty damn sad. The poor mother.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked at the father. Antonio Martinez. Dead. Now that was bizarre. Son, daughter and father all dead. Now the only people left were Juan and Margerita. Pieces started to shift in my head like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Could the grieving Martinez family really be eliminating themselves for the money? The records proved that as soon as young Emilia had gone missing, the family came upon a huge court settlement from the nursery that they sued. When daddy dearest died from food poisoning?! they sued the restaurant that served him the fatal blowfish he consumed.

And now that Jose had died, they were making millions from endorsements and tasteless souvenirs. They set up a memorial fund for him and the fan were sending in money from all around the world. Could the people really be that stupid? Well, they did buy his CD…

Feeling quite proud of myself for having figured out everything like I did, I pushed my wheeled chair back and toppled onto my bed. I clapped my hands twice shutting off the lights and I fell asleep. I'd tell Takeru about it in the morning. Right now he looked utterly exhausted. And I didn't blame him. Having to look out for both our asses couldn't be all that relaxing.

I quietly noted that I would have to get him to take a vacation. It wasn't as if I was totally weak without him or anything… falling off to sleep, I hit the button on my alarm clock, signaling the alarm. I only had two hours of actual sleep, so I'd better make the best of them. Mimi always wanted us at Center bright and early.


I could have sworn I was only asleep for a second before Takeru nudged me awake. "Get up sleepy head," he muttered through a muffled chuckle. "And speaking of head, fix your hair. You look as if a cow chewed on your scalp for a week."

"Good morning to you to sunshine," I bit sarcastically, pulling my pillow over my face. "I was working late, give me a break."

"Yeah and I was up late last night too, but you don't see me complaining about it… much…just get up, Mimi and Taichi are waiting for us already."

I muttered a few curse words under my breath as I lazily swung my body off the edge of my bed. "Are they at the airport or Center?" I questioned, stretching and yawning visibly.

"Airport, the one in Nerima. We'll be there in a few minutes. They took the liberty of packing for us, so all we have to do is show up. Now come on! The plane is serving breakfast."

"Yummy, freezer baked delicacies. My mouth is watering already," I said winking as I darted into the shower quickly spraying water over my face and head. Within minutes I was out, fully dressed with sopping dirt colored hair.

"Ready?" Takeru asked.

"As always Takeru," I sighed deeply. "Oh, let me fill you in on my little observations…" I trailed off, suddenly losing myself in my words as I told him everything.

Now, getting to the airport only took twenty minutes, even in the early morning traffic and in that time Takeru was vamped with everything I knew in detail. "That's a family reunion I'd pay to see," he laughed as we pulled up in the forest green Ferrari they provided us with. Watching the faces of every envious man that passed us on the intersection was well worth the trip.

"Here are your tickets, you're due back here in twenty eight days. If by then you haven't found out anything, your mission is instantly aborted at thirteen hundred hours and you're to report to La Casa De Pamplona," Mimi rushed, handing us carry on suitcases and our passports. "Do you understand?"

"Yes Ms," We both replied crisply. I looked down at my new name, Trey Remine. Oh, that was Japanese…

"I got Robert Higgins, consider yourself lucky," Takeru snapped as I glanced at him knowing that he would already be thinking what I was. "I swear, if I have Hawaiian shirts and sandals with white socks I'm going to kill myself."

"Yea, a drop from that high can be fatal," I chuckled. "At least we're first class."

"I need a drink," he sighed, sitting in his plush seat. Something began rumbling in my stomach as he inhaled deeply, grabbing three small bottles of liquor from the drink cart. "Hello Jack Daniels, how I have missed you my dear friend," he spoke to the bottle before downing half of the Black Cherry flavored alcohol.

"Excuse me miss," I motioned for the stewardess, "would it be possible to have an extra pillow? I got close to no sleep last night," I flashed her one of my prized, heart melting smiles as she giggled and nodded happily.

"Right away sir," she returned with a soft, feather stuffed pillow that I joyfully accepted and shoved it in back of my head. My head sunk into it and my muscles relaxed immediately. My eyes flickered over to Takeru who had completely finished the black tinted bottle and started on the Peach Schnapps.

"Starting early this time friend," I noted.

"You know I don't fly well," he replied curtly, wincing at the taste. "Ew, cheery and peach are horrible together…"

"You are so unreal," I rolled my eyes as I went back to sleeping. I didn’t fly well either, but I would be damned if I let Takeru see that. I just shut my eyes and chewed on as much gum as my mouth could handle without choking. My Eustachian tube was surprisingly weak for someone who flew all around the world like I did.

"Excuse me sir," the stewardess gently poked my shoulder. "But there was a man outside that told me to give you this," she handed me a folded piece of paper with the academy's seal on the front, closing it securely.

"Thank you," I smiled again, causing her to blush a bright red. I cut open the paper with my finger, reading the neat and organized handwriting of Taichi. 'Takeru, watch out for him. You know why.' Was all it read. I nodded in agreement, ripping the paper into little bits as I made my way to the bathroom to flush it.

"What did it say?" Takeru asked a little drowsy.

"Nothing important," I sighed, shaking my head as I squeezed my eyes shut. I sometimes wish Taichi had never told me about Takeru. I still remember my expression as I literally hit the ground. But I suspected he knew about me too, so that made it even in a way.

"Oh, Mimi told me to tell you that this was a direct flight to, so as soon as we get to La Casa De Pamplona, you're to call her immediately. Your cover is a tourist and I'm supposed to get a job at the Tangola, the new underground dance club in Spain. The Martinez's are supposedly regulars there."

"You've already been briefed?"

"Yeah, I can speak the language, you can't."

"But I can speak German, Italian and French," I shot out.

"And I can speak English, Chinese and Dutch."

"So can I!" I exploded.

"Yeah well while you were out learning French I took Spanish and that's the end of that," he retorted, a funny little half smile on his face. "Besides, I'm cuter, I'll get more information."

"You wish you were cuter than me," I laughed aloud. The entire trip, we had a joking argument over who was better looking (sad, I know) and it ended with no winners. Just a tipsy Takeru and a worn out me.

"Welcome to Pamplona!" an English speaking guide announced cheerfully. His balding head was badly hidden by a fake toupee and his muscular physique gave the impression that he was more of a bouncer than I a tour guide.

He showed us to a little bus that took us all the way to our hotel and from there I made the call to Mimi and Takeru unpacked his bag. "I have to get going, according to Mimi, the bartender's taking applications in twenty minutes."

"Where does she get her information?" I joked as her voice filled the receiver.

"Took enough time."

"Nice to hear from you too," I joked bitterly as Takeru waved goodbye and stepped out of the door.

"Is he gone?" she asked.

"Yes, he just left."

"Daisuke, I know Taichi already told you, but…"

"Yes, I know already, no need to tell me again."

"Good," there was a click as she hung up. I threw my cell-phone on my bed and jumped on the mattress. Relaxing for what had to be the zillionth time that day, I shut my eyes. And just as soon as I began to tumble off into sleep, the room next door to me started to blast DMX's 'Party Up, Up in Here' rap song. I growled faintly as I lifted my arm to bang on the wall.

But as soon as I lifted my hand, a deafening click was sounded. My eyes widened in recognition as a piercing pain shot right through my arm. I screamed as I yanked it down, immediately stopping the flow of blood from killing me. At once, a spray of bullets shot through the large glass window that over looked the pool and exploded into my room. I barely had time to duck as another one nicked my calf, causing a thin trail of crimson to leak down my leg.

Bullets whizzed by my face, embedding themselves into the wall and the furniture was blown to pieces as wood chips shot out around me. I covered my face with my bloodied hand, rolling covertly through the massacre and landed in the bathroom. I ripped a towel from the bar and jammed it into my injured hand. Taichi had taught us to suck up the pain and ignore it as if nothing had happened. This method was learnt through hours of grueling torture and excruciating pain.

Soon, the attackers let up and the bullets stopped. Waiting five minutes I stepped out. And to my surprise there was a message written in orange spray paint on one of the walls. It was in Spanish and I had no idea what it said. The music from the room had stopped suddenly and I heard the loud thumps of running men echo.

All my instincts clicked up as darted out of my room, bloody and all. Women around me screamed as they saw me and men barked swear words out at the men that were running away, pushing them down impatiently. But they were faster than me and they managed to escape. The only thing I caught was a bright pair of lime pants and a polished baldhead.

"Shit," I cursed, looking around me. Someone knew we were here and they knew who we were. My cover was blown in that instant and I prayed that they had no idea who Takeru was. If he went all the way to the Tangola and was caught, he would be as good as dead.

I had to phone Mimi and tell her immediately. But my cell-phone was probably blown to smithereens and that was the only way of communicating with her. So now, Takeru and I were trapped in Spain for twenty eight days with no way to call headquarters, assassins on our back and a case to solve that was getting more complicated every minute.

Yeah, a typical case for us.

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