Cages, a row of them, off to the left. Some small, some easily large enough to hold a person. I look away instantly. What else is here?

Endless shelves of equipment and supplies, stretching back further than I can make out in the dimness. To the right - that looks like a lab of some sort. Benches and tables, glassware and tubing. Pay dirt.

On elbows and knees I crawl to the nearest bench and drag myself up it, ignoring the nagging sense that something is wrong behind me. (Don't look!) Chemistry was never my subject and I have no idea what all this stuff is. Unlabelled jars, petri dishes, something viscous filling a beaker...what do I take? I can hear Omi's solemn voice in my head: "Congratulations, Youji-kun, you've retrieved a packet of baking soda."

Eventually I manage to concentrate. That little fridge looks promising. Sure enough, it's full of test tubes. And if I were an evil scientist, I'd keep a foam-lined briefcase or something under - there!

It's a miracle. Nothing breaks as I stuff the case as full as possible and thumb the lock shut. I replace it just where it was - who would think to look for missing test tubes in a case that's not missing? I'll grab it on the way out.

And now there just isn't any excuse not to look behind me.

I close my eye. Please, please, not more pain and death, not more people I can't save, that I'll fail, too late not enough useless. You coward, Youji. And finally the sense of something wrong clicks into place.

The room is silent.

Nobody's all quiet, even assassins. They breathe or squeak or rustle or sigh or just - are. Life is noise.

So I crawl over to the cages without fear and look on the forms inside. Some of them were people, but they're not hurting anymore. And it's not my fault. Even the mice are dead, little pink feet sticking up in the air.

Hm. Were they planning to clear out anyway? Why kill all your test subjects at once? Not that I really care; there's one more person to kill in this building and I'll go do it any second now. Just as soon as the room stops shaking, or possibly it's me.

We're going to have to set a bomb tonight. I must have bled a quart of evidence on various surfaces. Hope Omi doesn't mind.

There's something I'm forgetting.

I wonder what the others are thinking. //Youji should have been back hours ago; he must have found a girl again,// probably.

My nose really fucking hurts.

"Well, you look a mess," says an amused contralto voice behind me. "Why don't you sit in a chair, instead of sprawling on the floor like that?"

* * *

The owner of the voice has sensible shoes, nice ankles, and a white lab coat. After she hauls me up off the floor like a drowned rat and helps me to a chair, I can see the rest of her: inviting curves, long black hair wound up in a bun, a sweet helpful face. She's probably the chief torturer.

"Sorry," I tell her with a lopsided smile. "My mother always taught me not to bleed on other people's lab equipment, but I was looking for bandages."

She's pulling a first aid kit from a cabinet and bringing it over. "Please don't worry about it." Gently, she takes one of my hands and turns it palm up. "Good lord. Let me guess, Hashimoto-san doesn't like you."

I blink. Is this acting? "No, he really doesn't." The woman dabs water and antiseptic on the cuts, and I hiss, clenching my teeth. "Thank you for your kindness, Miss-"

"Minami. And you are Yamada-san, yes?" She starts on the other hand.

"Uh, yes." Huh? Minami is the name of our third target; but the photograph Manx showed us was of a large man. "I can't help but ask such a pretty lady, are you married?"

She winds gauze loosely around each hand and fastens it with tape. I look like a mummy. "No. Here, hold your head still while I clean your nose. You must have really annoyed him."

"Never could keep my mouth shut," I mumble. Minami's hands are gentle and I feel guilty. Harming women is barbaric, but she's part of Dekakeru and I should be threatening her...

...with the gun...

...that I _forgot_ to pry out of Biji's hands...

Oh damn.

Gauze or not, I can't hold the wire right now. So I smile at her instead. "It's just that I heard someone mention a Minami Kou here. That's surely not you."

Her eyebrows flick up. "Oh, you mean my brother? I'm surprised you heard his name; new people rarely do. Will you play a game with me?"

"Uh?" I'm so suave.

Minami smiles. "Just a little word-association game. For a research project. Almost everyone here has played it with me; I like to track the responses."

There isn't any good way to say no. "Anything to talk with you more, Minami-san."

A sudden sting in my arm makes me jump. "Anou..." She's fiddling with equipment behind me, but I can't turn my head. An odd languid feeling spreads through me, and my eye flutters shut. This is bad, really. I should be more alert.

"Just a relaxant," she assures me. Settling noises from the direction of the desk. "Now. This is very simple: I say a word, and you just say the first thing that comes into your head. Okay?"

"...yes."

"Eggs."

I think of an omelette, light and fluffy, Ken tossing it out of the pan onto my plate. You wouldn't think such a clumsy guy could cook. "Uh.. omelette."

"Blue."

The cornflower blue of Omi's eyes, sparkling with laughter, before I hit him with another pillow. Ken tackles me and the three of us fall on the sofa giggling insanely. A long time ago, that was. "Eyes."

"Love."

Violet eyes an inch from mine. Soft kisses somehow different from any I've had, pale silken skin, Aya over me, doing things I can only vaguely imagine, whispering my name - "...Purple."

So where did that come from? Vaguely disturbed is as much as I can feel at the moment, but something tells me I should be horrified. Later.

"Water."

Ah, steaming hot water, the bath as hot as I can stand, soaking into my tired muscles. Even the wrenched shoulder feels better. I slide down in the tub until the water covers me completely. It's easy to squelch the urge to breathe, the growing pain in my lungs; soon enough the water will make its way in and there'll be no more me, just soft wet oblivion.

Shit! I force my head up, choking and gasping. Air is so sweet and how long was I not breathing? "Stop it!" Feebly I try to wave at Minami, to fall out of the chair, but my body isn't answering.

"Ants."

A tide of red and black on the floor. Red ants, crawling up my arms. They itch. I try to shake them off, but there are too many, a swarm of them creeping in my ears and nose and stinging my lips like fire...."Aaaa!"

"Thirst."

I wither. My skin is stretched tight over old bones, my eyes frying in their sockets under the terrible sun. Swollen dark tongue and desert throat and I try to bite my lip for the blood but I'm too weak. "...."

"Death."

* * *

On to Part Twelve
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