--

"Eat the soup."

A bowl appeared on the table in front of him with a forceful click, almost spilling over. Udon, with extra vegetables and shrimp. The fragrant steam made Ran's eyes water. He blinked out of the daze he'd been sitting in and picked up the chopsticks.

As he ate Youji skittered about the kitchen cleaning up and making tea for them. Ran had to give the man credit; it was nearly ten minutes before he ran out of things to do and started talking. "All right, tell me what's wrong with you."

It really was very good soup. Ran made a noncommittal noise, and chewed on another shrimp. He could almost feel the life flowing back into him with the heat of the food.

"Answer me!"

An arched eybrow, calculated to annoy. "Do you want me to eat, or to talk?" He wound up a noodle and delicately plucked it from the chopsticks.

In all these years Youji had never learned not to rise to the bait. "Argh!" He flung himself into a chair and glared at Ran and the soup as though they were the cause of all his problems in life. Ran carried on eating in no particular hurry, a little surprised at how much he was going to miss this. Had missed this. The rest of Weiss surely had no great reason to care about him - this wouldn't even be the first time he'd walked away from them - but each of them was as stubborn as Ran himself.

It was a quality he could appreciate, even when misguided. And highly inconvenient.

By the time he'd drained the last drop, tilting the bowl in his hands to drink the broth, Youji was practically vibrating with impatience. The instant Ran set the bowl down it was snatched from his hands. "You've eaten. Now talk."

With a sigh, Ran leaned forward on his elbows and shut his eyes again. "Thank you for the soup."

"You're welcome," Youji gritted. "Now tell me what's wrong."

This was clearly going to go on for a while. "I'm tired," he murmured truthfully.

He wasn't expecting to be seized by the shoulders and jerked upright. "Damn it, Aya," hissed Youji, "don't even try this shit with me tonight. I _will_ get an answer out of you."

Ran shook himself loose, eyes narrowing. "Are you threatening me?" In the past his look and tone of voice had made armed men turn tail and run more than once. He had never liked casual touch and Youji damn well knew that.

But the normally lazy green eyes glaring back at him were now as hard as his own. "I will," stated Youji flatly, "tell Ken what you were doing. And what you were wearing." He swept a hand up and down to indicate the clothes Ran had unearthed at a thrift shop. "It's indecent. You look like, like - "

Too easy to pass up. Ran allowed the faintest hint of a smirk to curve his lips. "Like you? I just copied one of your old outfits." He had the satisfaction of seeing the playboy flush beet red. It was true at that.

"That's _different_."

"Oh?" Amusement was winning out over irritation, not that he would let it show. Youji was so easy to taunt.

"Yes! If those pants slide any lower everyone's going to know whether you dye your hair! When I do that it looks sexy, on you it's just, just obscene. And that shirt..." He gestured at it, apparently at a loss for words to describe the horror. "You look like a starving junkie, or a fashion model."

That too was true. He'd been surprised, when he first looked in the mirror, at how clearly his ribs showed through the tattered white silk; the hair he hadn't cut in months added to the waiflike effect, red wisps clinging to his pale neck and throat. Youji would have looked brazenly sensual in the same clothes; Ran looked exposed and vulnerable.

And he wasn't going to achieve his goal by sitting here chatting. Ran pushed himself up out of the chair with a weary grunt and found himself nearly nose to nose with Youji, grabbed and held close with a cavalier disregard for personal space. He should deck him; he should be striking upward too fast for even a killer to deflect, at the angle of throat and chin. It was the weariness that kept him just standing there, swaying a little.

"I don't know what you've been up to for the last month, Fujimiya, but it stops now." They were so close that they breathed each other, warm cigarette haze slipping into Ran's mouth with the angry words. "It's a safe bet that I have more friends in this town than you and more connections. If you leave, Ken and I _will_ track you down and make your life a living hell. So own up."

At last he managed to move, put his hands on Youji's chest and shoved with more than necessary force, meaning to send him into the wall. But the pest only stumbled back a step or two and laughed. "Maa, you are a bit weak, aren't you. Going to 'shi-ne' me now?"

Ran bit back the word just in time. How had he lost the upper hand so fast? Fatigue was no excuse. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time than harass me?"

"Not really." Again with that lazy, almost fey smile. Youji leaned back against the refrigerator and crossed his arms. He certainly looked as though he'd been on vacation the last few weeks; the tired slump to his shoulders was gone, and the green eyes looked less haunted. Instead of the blatant, faintly desperate fuck-me-now look he'd cultivated as long as Ran had known him, Youji now had an almost urbane air. Only the golden-brown ponytail and tousled bangs remained, those and the familiar sunglasses tucked in the blazer pocket. The rest was suede and silk, brown and cream, and the pants - those hadn't changed either, on closer inspection. It had been a standing joke at the Koneko that one day they'd have to cut them off to restore circulation in his legs.

The sight of all that - comfort - sparked the anger he'd been looking for; he let it rush up through his chest, hot and tense, and spat it forth. "Enjoying your blood money?"

That hit. He saw it in the twitch of Youji's jaw muscles, though the lips still turned up. "What else are we supposed to do with it? What did you do with your savings, Aya?"

Ran felt his lips drawing back in a snarl. "_You_ have savings. I have a sister."

The smile faded to a confused look. "You spent it on Aya-chan? But, I thought Kritiker was taking care of her? Manx said-"

"Youji, do you have any idea what it costs to keep someone in hospital for a year?" Of course he didn't; he'd never had to make every yen last on the edge of poverty. Youji's money had always gone to very conspicuous consumption.

"Ah...lots?"

"Four and a half million yen. Not counting medicine or physical therapy." It was necessary, they'd explained to him, to move her arms and legs so the muscles did not atrophy. No, he wasn't allowed to do it himself. (1) Please sign here, Fujimiya-san.

Now Youji was frowning thoughtfully. "Okay, that's more than we made, but...are you saying they wouldn't pay all of it?"

He hadn't meant to say so much, shouldn't be whining about things that were his problem to solve. But the words kept spilling out. "They paid it. And everything I owed already. They paid off the yakuza." It hurt to remember himself back then: so young, so stupidly young, believing he could deal with the devil and walk away unscathed. If Kritiker hadn't picked him up he would have been a petty thug and hit man to the end of his days.

Maybe it would have been him guarding the back door of that club.

"Did you think they were charitable enough to pay a salary as well?" Ran felt like an over-boiled teakettle, the lid knocked ajar at last. "I took all those extra solo missions just to eat."

"...And the Porsche?"

"Theirs."

"Huh. I wondered why you didn't fight over who got to keep a car when we went mobile." Youji had slouched down against the fridge a bit, and appeared to be thinking hard about something. "So, your parents didn't leave anything? No life insurance?"

"Everything was confiscated as part of an "investigation" by the police." His father's lawyer was hiding under the desk when Weiss came for him, babbling about how Takatori had forced him to betray all his clients. It had felt more like kindness than revenge to cut his throat at the last.

A soft snort recalled him to the present. "So you're broke. So what? We've got enough to live on, and in two or three years maybe we can stick our noses out of hiding and get real cover IDs. Sooner if we leave Japan. You're not this stupid, Aya." Youji's eyes traveled over him again, assessingly this time. "Who'd you get in debt to? What have you been doing?"

Ran felt himself flushing. The playboy's tone implied a drug habit at the least, or some more creative vice he doubtless knew all about. "_Nothing_." Why had he opened his mouth to this man of all people? He turned to leave, unsurprised to find his way blocked again at the door.

"Nothing, huh?" Youji reached out and made as if to ruffle his hair, for God's sake; he yanked his hand back when Ran snarled. "Where was all this nothing going on, then, cause it wasn't in your room. You don't even have any furniture in there, Aya."

In the park, he didn't answer.

"Out of my way."

He'd been spending most days by the fountain, watching children and couples stop to throw coins in, wishing the early spring sunshine held more warmth. Ran couldn't remember the last time he had not felt cold. But Youji would laugh and say something crude about getting laid, if he said so.

He'd been trying not to think.

"Saa, wherever it was, it's been all about the brooding and the guilt again, right? You're a bad person and kill everyone who gets close? Aya's bad and needs to suff-"

The food really had lent him strength. Youji's head struck the edge of the doorframe as he stumbled back from the blow, dangerously close to the stairs; Ran leaped forward to catch him without thinking. Their eyes met in brief acknowledgement of the irony, then Youji pulled away.

His lean face held no expression at all. Ran had seen his partner angry often enough, both his theatrical rages and the bitterness beneath. He'd watched him choke the life out of someone slowly, with a smile that was not a smile. But this flatness was new. Youji just stared at him for a moment before turning his back and walking away.

So that was that.

Time to go, Ran told himself after a minute. Mechanically he returned to the kitchen and retrieved his coat. Already his body was shivering in protest at the thought of the cold outside. Youji had finally reached his tolerance point, and wouldn't come after him any more.

Unless...

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. Ran took the second flight of stairs two at a time. His room lay at the end of the hall, and yes, the door was standing open despite the fact that he'd locked it this morning. Youji was sitting on the rolled-up futon inside, reading the letter to himself. He looked up as Ran paused in the doorway.

"Your English is better than mine, but isn't this from a school?" His thumb tapped the seal printed at the top. "Something Academy. Dear Mr. Fujimiya, thank you for your inquiries, something something, holy shit. Is that number as much as I think it is?"

Ran considered making a grab for the piece of paper, but it was pointless. "Yes." There would be no keeping Kudou Youji the professional snoop out of things now. "Are you happy now?"

"No. " Youji waved the letter accusingly in the air. "This is for Aya-chan, isn't it? I can't make it all out, but her name is there." No more bullshit, said his eyes. Still pissed.

"Yes." He could ask Youji to move over, or unroll the futon. Ran opted to lean against the wall instead. "Her nursing school."

That was the plan, that had always been the plan. Aya was going to the best nursing academy she could get into and Ran would pay her way. He'd been saving up money from waiting tables, and she'd just sent in her applications to the top schools in Europe. That last day at the festival she had asked him one more time.

/"Are you sure, Ran? I won't hate you if you don't, I promise." Her eyes were shining with confidence, though. How could you disappoint eyes like that? Any boyfriend who failed to live up to Aya-chan's eyes was going to get beaten into the ground by an angry brother.

"Of course, stupid. Quit asking already. You're going to be a great nurse, and then I'll make you pay me back cooking and cleaning for me when I'm a student. You're going to regret saying yes."/

"Aya?"

He blinked. "Yes?"

"Stay with me here. Talk first, then sleep. Lying down is good too."

Ran rubbed at his eyes. Sleep sounded like some mythical paradise. "...What else do you want to know?"

He could see the smart remark coming, but Youji only said, "Start with Aya-chan."

"After she woke up... I made another deal with Manx." Ran stared at the floor. "It was the best way to protect her. They'd take care of everything, high school and college, guard her discreetly. Manx promised she wouldn't be in any files and Kritiker would never use her against me." Shion had found her all the same, but Shion was different.

"And you believed her?" Youji sounded incredulous.

"I made her swear." He knew truth when he saw it at swordspoint, now. "She kept her word."

"...And that's why the school wants all this money."

"Manx is _dead_."

"I know that - oh." Youji's mouth had tightened at the words, and now he absently brushed loose bangs of hair in front of his eyes. "She really didn't trust Kritiker, did she?"

He blamed himself for her death, Ran knew. Youji blamed himself for a lot when it came to women. "She wasn't stupid, no. Everything was paid for by her personally; I don't know how she rigged the finances, but tuition payments stopped. So did Aya's living allowance."

"And that was," Youji paused to count fingers, "over a year ago. What's Aya-chan been doing since then?"

"Youji, I can't _find her_. " Omi could have found her in two days, but Omi was out of reach, on some Takatori estate. The irony was not lost on Ran. "The school said she had to move out of the dorms halfway through last semester, and the forwarding address she gave no longer works. They're not interested in looking for her unless the back tuition's getting paid."

Silence. Youji stood, with slow deliberation, and looked Ran in the eye. "And you didn't ask me for help. Us."

"What do you know about France?"

"Nothing, but you could have asked!" For the third time in a night he was nose to nose with an angry Youji. "We've got money, we can hire someone to bloody go to bloody France, since when are you too proud to ask for your sister's safety?"

"I...hadn't thought of that." Why, he wasn't sure now. The idea eased the tightness in his chest that had been there for a week, since the letter arrived. Green eyes were glaring into his and he felt warmer towards them than he had all night. "Thank you." He didn't even move away.

After a long moment Youji snorted and stepped back on his own. "What do you know. I didn't think you _said_ thank you." He wasn't making any move to leave; Ran wished he would, desperately needed time to think about things. Help finding Aya put him in debt to Youji that could never be paid, and the interfering bastard would use that as leverage to bring up-

"Now, what about _this_ idiot idea?" Youji reached out and put his hand on Ran's chest, ruffling the tattered silk. "Damn your skin's cold."

-the other matter. No, he thought, yours is warm, but didn't say it. "I- It's complicated."

"Just start talking." The hand stayed where it was.

Ran sighed. "For Aya's safety I'll do anything, you know that." Damn you. "But the money for the school is my problem. I failed her, I have to fix it."

Youji's eyes flicked up and down his body again. "Like _that_? In the worst possible, stupidest, most dangerous wa- " He broke off to stare at Ran in disbelief. "You wanted-"

Ran gritted his teeth. "You wouldn't understand."

"You wanted," Youji repeated slowly, "to do this in the worst possible stupidest most dangerous way on purpose. As punishment." He gripped a fistful of silk as though he wanted to tear it off Ran.

"No." It sounded immature, that way. Suicidal. But he couldn't think of another way to explain. "It's... Youji, how can live the way you do?"

"What?"

He put out a hand in turn and ran it down the other man's jacket. Not just suede but the buttery-soft kind, that caressed everything it touched. "Like _this_. Wealthy and happy and like anybody else. Don't you even have nightmares anymore?"

There was a faint tearing sound as the cloth in Youji's hands gave way, but neither of them moved.

"Don't you hear the screams? Don't you see them walking down the street sometimes, someone you thought was dead, and you go chasing after them hoping somehow they survived, but it's never really them?"

"Aya..."

"Don't call me that. My name is Ran. Aya didn't kill anybody."

"Ran. Stop it."

"Why are we even alive? What right do we have to walk around like normal people just because nobody can see the blood all over us? How-"

Youji struck him, then, open-handed, and Ran tasted blood as the impact rang in his ears. He looked up to see that same strange expression in the taller man's eyes.

"Don't you _dare_ judge me," Youji whispered hoarsely, staring down at him. "You can act like a martyr all you want, but nobody cares. They're all _dead_, Ran, they can't see you suffering. It won't make them feel better and it won't bring them back."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Ran touched his split lip, testing the edges. It stung a little but not enough. "But I still can't pretend."

Slowly, Youji let go of the shirt and moved his hand upward. His thumb outlined Ran's collarbones one at a time, stroked the hollow of his throat. Soon long fingers were caressing his neck in an eerily sensual way that sent tingles up his spine. Ran lifted his chin and let it happen, distantly surprised at himself. Balinese the strangler was feeling out the places that marked death; and he didn't care, even when pressure here and there made his head swim. What did it matter?

Youji's mouth was on his ear. "You want to suffer?" His voice was soft and low now, husky. "You want to feel like you've paid that debt the hard way? We can do that."

tbc

----

(1) I had to cheat here a bit to make the story work. When I researched hospital costs in Japan, the numbers came up much lower than I thought they would. On the other hand, some of the services we take for granted in American hospitals aren't always there. Aya-chan's care would not have cost anything near what it would here - but Ran would have been expected to clean her room and to help change and wash her sheets etc. Wouldn't it have been cute to see that in the anime?

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