It's dark.

It's never this dark. With eyes like mine, there's always a little reflected light to find somewhere. I feel my face nervously; okay, the eyes are still there at least.

Am I blind? Naked, on a floor that's not cold or warm or hard or soft. No walls within reach of my groping hand. I clear my throat, experimentally, and the sound is faint and far away.

Is this what it's like to be dead? Just...me?

As if the thought called them faint lights appear; I'm so damn glad I could cry. They flicker all around me but too far away to touch, and as my eyes adjust I can see the shadows moving among them. People.

Asuka has her arm around Aiko, talking to her with that gamine smile. She doesn't seem to mind the gaping wound in her chest. Over there Biji is shooting pool with a guy I vaguely remember killing four months ago; his head lolls on a broken neck and he keeps missing shots. I count at least two dozen security guards talking shop. All my dead are here, they must be. It's their scene.

Asuka, I call out, Asuka! but my voice is too faint to carry. I wait until she's looking in my direction and wave; her gaze crosses mine and moves on.

Already I know it's hopeless, but still I lurch to my feet and run, trying to reach her. Of course I get no closer. They're always the same distance away, always ignoring me.

They didn't come to walk me to Hell. They are my Hell.

...what do I do?

* * *

The sudden sting and chill in my veins wakes me shuddering all over. Light. Concrete and bars; I touch them gratefully, wincing at the pain in my hands. Naked and hurting on a floor that is distinctly cold and hard, and thank god. Maybe I'll take up religion.

"That was fascinating," Minami tells me from outside the cage. "Your graph patterns were unlike any so far. Thank you for cooperating."

There isn't enough room to sit up, so I just tilt my head in her direction. "Do I get a prize?"

"You should." She reaches between the bars to touch my hair for a moment. "I really didn't care for either of them. You've improved the world a great deal. Unfortunately my brother is of a different mind."

I try to catch her hand as she moves away, but fail. "Minami-san!" Come on, Kudou, you can talk your way out of this -

"Goodbye, Yamada-san." As she leaves the light from the opened door falls on the figure sitting in a chair near me. I should have noticed him before. Minami Kou.

He doesn't even bother to speak, just holds up a syringe. I flinch and close my eyes as he gets up from the chair, waiting for the sting; instead I hear furniture being dragged. Hm?

Oh, lovely. Now there's a small table in my line of sight, just out of reach, and the syringe is lying on it. Minami goes back to sitting in his chair. He's one of those men who look permanently bored, with flat features and small half-closed eyes.

"Elegant," I tell him. "Could I have a glass of water, though? The thirst is distracting me from the true horror."

No, I didn't really expect him to answer. Sodium pentathol is clear, but the stuff in the syringe is an unhealthy brown color. Is he not even going to bother to question me?

Feigning relaxed sleep is the best I can think of. Closing the eye that's not swollen shut, I curl up on the bottom of the cage and start counting sheep. One...two...hell, I'm too tired to be afraid...

The chair scrapes and I know he's getting up to hit me or something. No point moving. There's a strange wet noise, then silence.

"Youji! YOUJI! Wake up!" Ken's voice.

Sleepily I open one eye. "...bout time." There's something I have to tell him, I think...

"Wake up, damnit!" Ken is shaking the cage. Interrupting my sleep seems to be his job in life. Cursing, he turns away to search the room and the body. Glass tinkles everywhere.

Oh, yeah. I raise my head. "Samples in the case, 'kay?" They must think I've blown the mission.

He doesn't hear me. "Bombay, do you read? We need a ring of keys, for cages. _No_ I can't pick the lock, who do I look like, you? Look for a scientist type." Returning to the cage, he peers in at me. "Hang on, Youji. We'll get you out."

"It's okay," I tell him. "Samples in the case under the bench. All the targets are down." See? I didn't fuck up.

"Screw that!" Ken sounds angry. "You look like shit, Youji! We were worried!" Gingerly, he turns over one of my hands and makes a noise at the blood-crusted gauze.

"Sorry." I rest my cheek against the cool cage floor. No doubt the others will be along to yell at me soon and I just want to sleep.

"Aaaaah..." Words fail Ken and he has to hit something, as usual. I hear him kicking the body. Things must be under control for him to be wasting time here.

Light running feet means Omi is here. "Found 'em!" The jingle of keys. "Youji-kun!" The lock is rattling. I have to wake up now, damn.

As soon as the door swings open one of them grabs me by the wrenched shoulder; I yell and they jump back. "Sorry," I mutter. "Gimme a minute." On top of everything else my arms and legs are cramped up, and I still can't use my hands. Finally Ken takes off his claws and just drags me out. I slump against him, shivering.

Omi drapes my leather trenchcoat around me while Ken holds me up; I'm glad they brought it, normal clothes would be hopeless. "I found your watch, Youji-kun," the boy tells me. He keeps putting his hands on me, they both do. "You'll be okay soon. We're going home."

Does he think I don't know that? "Samples," I say again. "Get the case." Where's Aya? "Aby-Abyssinian?" Why couldn't we have picked nice short code names?

"Mopping up in front," Ken tells me. Omi is rooting through the lab; he makes a pleased noise and holds up the case. "Let's go!"

I blink. "Check it first." For gods' sake, Omi, _I_ filled that case.

Shrugging, he flips open the locks and glances inside. "Looks good. I trust you, Youji-kun. Let's go."

Maybe they hit my head harder than I thought. Dazedly, I let them help me out the door and down the long gray halls, splotched now with red. "Evidence?" is all I manage to say on the way.

"All set up," Omi assures me. We stagger out through the lobby and into the mirrored elevator. Was Minami's body one of the ones we passed? I don't want to ask.

Aya is waiting outside by the usual unmarked car. His battle gear makes him a different person from this morning; all armor now, his leather and steel and icy anger letting nothing through. That's the Aya I know.

Ken bundles me into the back seat and takes the wheel. Omi climbs into the passenger seat; their eyes flick nervously towards each other, then away. Still tension there. The blond boy clicks a device in his hand, and the explosion behind us shakes the car. None of us even bother to look around, except Aya who always makes sure. After a moment he gets in beside me and we're driving away.

Hell of a day. Hell of a mission. I should go back to sleep now, but memories keep flooding back in a jumble. Minami's face. A vicious kick to my ribs. That terrible darkness, alone with my dead. _That's_ going to hold top billing in my nightmares for a long time to come. Will I go there again if I sleep?

Hell with it all. I slump sideways, onto Aya's lap, and just lie there. His knees are bony and the leather of his coat against my cheek smells like blood and Aya, like safety. He freezes underneath me.

After a long time I feel his arm, tentative, around my shoulders, and his hand on my head. Aya holds me awkwardly and neither of us moves until the car pulls in at home.

* * *

There's no reason to stay here. Everything's mostly healed, even my hands and my nose, which is only a little crooked. Ken said something about the thug look being in and I threw a pillow at him.

I look around the Koneko's spare room and sigh. This is stupid. Two weeks is long enough, even if it is nice to come down every morning to Ken's breakfast and Omi's smile and silent Aya. Even if it helps, when I wake up gasping and reaching for her, to know that they're nearby.

I should have left yesterday. Instead I had Ken bring over another pile of my stuff. His choices have been amusingly random; this time he brought more shirts, my bath brush but _not_ the apricot scrub, some books and the velvet bag.

None of them have asked me to leave yet. I wonder if they're being polite.

It's been two weeks since I used the wire, and even with the gloves I'm careful as I reel it out. One shining silver butterfly, freed from its bag, rolls onto the wire with a glad hum. It seems so long since I played like this, up and around and over, the sweet motions erasing thought.

In the middle of a figure eight I realize someone's in the doorway. Omi. His eyes are wide. Just to make them wider I do a double loop, toss the butterfly and catch it on the wire again, and smirk at him. "Ee, bishounen?" Out and around...

"Youji-kun," he breathes. "That's...amazing! Will you teach me how to do that?"

The look in his eyes is odd. I haven't seen that look in a very long time.

"...Sure, bishounen. Any time you like."

* * *
fin
Back to Part Eleven

Tell Marith if she should change her name and move to Idaho