Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The authors claim no ownership of the characters within, nor received any compensation for this work.
Aya was wet and cold when he woke up. Neither sensation crept fully into the forward part of his mind, only idle thoughts in the back of his mind before his consciousness truly woke. Neither sensation mattered enough to him to try and rectify, but both together set off quiet personal alarms.
He only had to lay in dazed confusion for a few moments before the ugly recent past came rushing back to him. The fight, the quake, the crumbling of the strange temple that had been the site of Esstzet's aborted plan to revive some ancient evil into the body of his comatose sister.
Ah, yes. That reality. Damned pesky thing that it was. His first hope was that Manx had gotten Aya and Sakura out of there before the building had fallen apart and sunk into the sea. It occurred to him a moment later that he wouldn't know the answer to that for some time. Any communication device he had on him would have been destroyed by his battered trip through the salt water.
Aya didn't stop to wonder how he had made it through. The sea was no longer a frightening thing to him, for reasons he didn't have the luxury of re-examining now. He was alive; the next item on his agenda had to be ensuring the safety of his team.
"Aya?" A strained, unrecognizable scratching of a voice came from somewhere to his left. To identify the speaker he would have to open his eyes. He rested for a full two seconds before attempting it, and turning his head. Thick redness covered his right eye, which he immediately realized was his own drenched hair, stuck to his face.
Without any energy to remove the chunk of hair from his vision, he struggled to focus on his surroundings. He recognized Yohji first, sprawled on his stomach a few feet away. The man was bleeding from a shallow cut on his forehead, and there was a rapidly-swelling bruise on his cheek. 'Won't like that one bit, on his face and everything,' Aya thought idly.
"Aya, you awake?" Yohji hoarsed out grimly. Did he have a throat injury as well?
Opening his mouth, trying to force out an answer produced nothing but a voiceless sigh. Aya decided swallowing mouthfuls of sea water, and not throat trauma, was the problem. Instead of trying to speak, he let a fall of his chin work in place of a nod.
Yohji seemed relieved when Aya moved, and rested his head down on the sand. In the intervening moments when the blond did not speak, Aya catalogued the observable facts about the moment.
The light was pale but had grown in the moments since he'd opened his eyes. That meant it was sunrise. There was enough light to see that they were on a rocky beach, sunk down amid some large outcroppings of rock. He could only hope they were hidden from prying eyes above. Some kind of stiffness in his body prevented him from rising at the moment to take a more detailed survey.
Yohji was mumbling again, muffled by sand and weariness. "Omi's back there a little way, kid won't wake up, he's hurt pretty bad. Breathing, alive... hurt. Can't find Ken, didn't see him, where did he get to..." Yohji spoke of their fourth member like a dog that had wandered off. More alarmingly, he referred to their leader like a military casualty.
Aya quickly instructed himself not to think the word 'casualty' again.
Sitting up was the most difficult thing Aya had ever done. By the sort of awed, dumbstruck look on Yohji's face, it was the most amazing thing the blond had ever seen. Aya winced as he rose, fiery pain shooting down his right arm and his back, the source in his shoulder joint. He didn't look down to inspect the problem, but Yohji did.
"Shit! You dislocated your shoulder. It doesn't look good, that's your sword arm, you kind of need it to work, right? We've gotta pop that back in before--"
"Kudou!" Aya rasped, and the effort of speech left him coughing and watery-eyed for a couple of minutes. His throat was too dry to allow many words. It shut Yohji up, though. The blond was talkative enough when he didn't have a head injury. The bump on his head seemed to have knocked loose a complete stream of consciousness babble. Aya hoped it was only temporary.
Getting Yohji to his feet with a popped shoulder socket was no easier than hauling himself out of the sand had been. His reckless teammate had a bevy of bruises and sore spots, and gasped in obvious pain when Aya happened to touch his left side. Damaged ribs, Aya determined. They leaned on each other, on their uninjured sides, and hobbled a few yards down the beach to where Yohji said Omi lay. Aya could see the long smooth streak in the sand, pockmarked by handprints, where Yohji had crawled along to get to him.
'Stupid bastard,' Aya thought desperately, though infinitely glad of the familiar too-tall support at his side. 'He should have helped Omi first. Bad planning, stupid...' But he wouldn't have even gotten off the beach yet, without that self-same bastard at his side.
Omi was still where Yohji had left him, lying grotesquely beaten and battered on the sand. Aya's stomach sank to see him like that, until a check of his skull revealed no bumps or cuts. He was still breathing and his pulse was rapid but steady. The boy gave no response to any of their attempts to rouse him.
Neither of them could shoulder even the small teenager with their injuries. Yohji suggested Aya go for help while he stayed with Omi. Aya shook his head but didn't tell his teammate where he had already decided they would go.
Together they fashioned a sling out of Aya's coat, since Yohji's was too badly torn to serve as even a jacket any longer. Carefully they moved Omi onto the makeshift stretcher, and struggled with him up the rocky incline, swinging between them.
The momentarily forgotten question of Ken's whereabouts was answered when they made it to the road just above the beach. He was wandering along the side of the road, with just his orange sweatshirt around his waist and his pants hanging off his hips. The rest of his clothes and his shoes were nowhere to be seen. They called to him and he trudged over, but neither Aya's short snaps nor Yohji's longer, rambling questions elicited any response. Ken either could not or would not speak to them. He only stared at Omi's helpless, silent form and looked like he might cry. Aya hoped to hell that he wouldn't.
At least it wasn't raining. Aya wondered when he had become an optimist.
"Damn," Yohji sighed, as they stood on the edge of the deserted seaside road without any direction or leader to guide them. "He'd know where the nearest Kritiker safe house is... probably the nearest bus line and train track too. Fuck it, I don't even know where the car is, let alone--"
"I do," Aya interrupted roughly, again. It was going to have to be him. Omi was unconscious, Ken was too dazed to speak, and Yohji was being even more of a pain in Aya's ass than usual. He was the only clear-headed one, but the only idea that came to mind made him question his own judgement. "I know where we can go," he stated, turning in the direction which he thought led to the place they'd hidden their transportation.
He'd parked it there just a few hours before, Aya reflected. It seemed like ages since they'd first approached the mission. Finding the car felt more like an archeological expedition than a trek to find a parking spot.
"What the fuck?" Yohji was fond of cursing after an ordeal, it seemed.
The single name that Aya spoke caused Yohji to dig in his heels and stop in his tracks. Aya went a step further, before the dangerous jostling of Omi in the sling between them forced him to stop. Ken bumped into Aya's left arm and bounced off, blinking into the distance.
"No fucking way," Yohji swore, his eyes narrowed furiously. "We're not dragging your little boyfriend and his harem into Weiss business. He hangs around the shop enough, and who knows what you tell him, he probably knows enough to cook all of us by now, and you wanna take Omi to him when he could die? The hell is wrong with you? We're going back to the fucking shop and fucking calling Manx and--"
"What shop." Interrupting Yohji was the only way to hush him now. "What Kritiker. Where is Manx? Where is Persia? We don't know." Aya had to speak in short bursts, his throat burning and raw still. "Omi needs help. Cye can give it." Aya took a deep breath, meeting Yohji's eyes. "Safe there."
Yohji didn't believe him. Yohji tried to argue with another long ramble almost identical to the first. But, in the end, Yohji had to follow Aya or risk dropping Omi.
Along the road was the worst possible way to go, Aya decided silently. Up ahead there was a lookout point. Even at this early hour, he could see a car parked there and two people looking out over the water. A strange whirlpool still gurgled in the wake of the temple's collapse, and soon there would be people here investigating. They could not risk being seen, especially not with an injured boy -- not to mention Ken in his odd state.
Overland, instead, through the woods and long grasses, to the car's hiding place. Yohji's silence was icy and troublesome, but he followed Aya's lead.
Aya only hoped he could find the address that Cye had written down for him two months ago -- the house he had never sought, the people he did not want to meet, the life he couldn't bear to think about. With Kritiker a mess and their own fates uncertain, Aya couldn't think of anywhere else they could go.
*****
"Cye, would ya siddown please? Ah'm gettin' dizzy."
"Really, Rowen...," Cye muttered, setting the teapot back on the stove with a clink. "I'm just trying to be tidy after all. The kitchen is a wreck, Blaze has shed just everywhere, there's laundry..." He zipped around the kitchen again as he had been all morning, sweeping up nonexistent crumbs, polishing already spotless chrome, doing all of the compulsively tidy things Cye did when under stress.
The mini-rant and cleaning product abuse were abruptly cut off as the blue-haired boy got up from his seat, clapped a hand gently over his friend's mouth and steered him out of the kitchen. The indignant noises were ignored until Rowen had pushed Cye onto the couch with a Look.
"We'ah all on edge, Cye. Havin' you flit around like a hummin' bird on crack ain't helping." Rowen said, dropping himself into an armchair across from the other boy.
Cye scowled at his friend but settled down. "I can't help it! Things have just been so terrible lately with all the rioting and everything else. I just feel there's something we should be doing..." The settling lasted for all of ten seconds before he leaned forward, stacking the books and magazines on the coffee table in militantly straight lines.
"Yeah," Kento said, coming from the hallway and hopping over the back of the couch to land by Cye. "We need to find out what's up and kick their ass!"
"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" Sage asked, closing his book and setting it on a endtable out of Cye's reach. "Should we head to the middle of downtown Tokyo and start blasting at random? I have no desire to know if the armor is proof against bullets and as tense as things have been, that is exactly what would happen."
"Yeah, but something's up. There hasn't been fighting like that since the end of the battle with Talpa. There has to be something we can do..." Kento smacked a fist into his open palm, looking frustrated.
"It's not our fight, dude," Ryo said, taking a seat next to Sage. "Unless we know there's something mystical up we'd cause more harm than good. Stopping street punks is a job for the police, not us." He sighed then, looking at the others. "I'm glad Mia's out of the country visiting her grandparents though. She should be safe up there."
"But it's not just that," Cye was trying to stop the fidgeting without much success. "There's been something else wrong, you all know it. Until this morning there was something dreadfully oppressive in the air, not the Netherworld but just as bad..."
"Which was gone this morning as well," Sage pointed out. "Whatever it was has been taken care of, either that or we'll find it if it becomes a threat."
"But!"
Ryo leaned forward, looking at the redhead, with leader tone firmly in place, "Cye, we can't handle everything. Some stuff just isn't in the program. If the Ronins are needed, we'll figure it out. Until then, we're just guys, you know?"
"Knowing in and liking it are two different things," Cye said, snippy. "I don't like it, I shan't like it and there's nothing that will convince me otherwise." He got up, brushing Kento's arm off and stomped back into the kitchen.
The other four glanced over to the door then back at each other. "There's been no word then?" Sage asked.
"Nada," Rowen said, curling up in his overstuffed chair. "Cye's about tearin' his hair out and there's nothin' we can do abaht it."
"What's he so worried about?" Kento asked, leaning back. "Those guys can take care of themselves, right? Not like us, of course, but good enough. And riots ain't really their style."
"Regardless," Sage said, "He does have a cause for concern. For an organization that is supposed to be secret they have ended up in fairly public trouble more than once. We'll find out soon enough if they were involved..."
*****
By the time they reached the long, winding drive, Aya very clearly understood that Yohji was agreeing to this only under protest, that he was only staying as long as it took for Omi to regain consciousness, and that he would not hesitate to knock out anyone who started any "funny business". Aya was extremely clear on these facts because it was all that Yohji had repeated for the last half hour as they sped down back country roads.
All Aya could do was put the complainer in the back seat to keep Omi steady. Ken, in the front seat, had fallen asleep. Aya half wished he could, but his heart was pumping and his adrenaline was high. He could only drive with his left hand, his right hanging uselessly in his lap. It hurt too much to move that shoulder, so shifting gears became a dangerous process of holding the steering wheel with his knee and reaching over to make the shift.
Yohji's incessant complaining combined with this precarious driving procedure had nearly run them off the road ten times in thirty minutes. Aya was greatly relieved when they finally found the house and turned up the drive. That relief turned to annoyance again when the drive itself took fifteen minutes to navigate.
"Why the hell do they live all the way out here, anyway? What are they hiding? Five guys and one adult woman, what's wrong with them? At least there's some adult involved. At least it's a woman, there might be someone with half a gram of sense in your little adventure."
Aya hadn't bothered to answer a single question or statement. He was not about to start, not when the house was finally in view.
It shocked him at first, enough to silence Yohji's voice in his ears. He knew this place. The balcony on the upper level, over the side-yard, the recessed front door, the color of the roof and outside wood, it all sprang directly from his memory. It was the house on the beach, the one he and Cye had shared.
Stopping the car, getting Omi out, waking Ken, ignoring Yohji, staggering up to the front door all became lost in the rushing wash of half-formed memories. Aya wouldn't even try the door, the memory firmly lodged in the back of his mind that it would not open for him without Cye.
Yohji refused to have anything to do with the door. Ken hadn't even gotten close, though now he appeared more sleepy than dazed. Aya left the still-unconscious Omi in Yohji's care and knocked on the door. The weak rapping of his left hand sounded pitiful in the early-morning quiet.
So it was quite a shock when the door was flung wide and Aya was suddenly leapt upon by a surprised, fretful redhead. He couldn't even make sense of the flurry of demanding questions, dealing instead with trying to keep Cye from grabbing his shoulders until the dislocation could be set.
"Where have you been? What's happened? Are you all right? Of course you aren't all right, are you safe? Aya, you're hurt! You're all hurt! Omi, what happened to him? Get in, get in, we'll work out what's wrong inside."
Just like that, Cye had taken over. Aya no longer had to wear his leader face; for the moment, Cye Mouri was unofficially in charge.
Cye hurried them into the great room, Aya trailing along with steps taken from memory, Yohji following with Omi, and Ken only belatedly realizing that they were going in the house at all. Though he expected the house to be quiet -- it always was, in that dreamworld -- Aya could distinctly hear several other sounds and bodies starting to drift down the stairs and out of the outer rooms.
[Of course the others would come,] Aya thought distantly as Cye directed the placing of Omi on a couch and began assessing his condition. He and his team had infiltrated the idyllic peace of their home. They would want to see what all the fuss was about.
Kento. Rowen. Sage. Ryo. Aya remembered their names and the things Cye had told him during all those long days alone together. He could never recall specific words, but the overall impression lingered. Polite, reserved, traditional Sage. Dedicated, energetic, selfless Ryo. Smart-alecky, brilliant, affectionate Rowen. And Kento, big and strong and safe and the one who Cye had been the most fond of. Aya could only dimly see their faces on the only night he had ever seen them, in the shadow of an alley in Tokyo. A fluff of blond, a shock of blue, a riot of black and a tousle of smoke is how he remembered them.
Cye's Dear Boys are what he called them in his mind, because whenever Cye talked about them, he had said that. "My dear boys," with such longing and affection as Aya could not imagine feeling for anyone. No one but his sister and Cye, in the end.
What did Cye think of Aya's "boys?" What did he call them, to himself?
"Excuse me? Are you wet?"
Aya blinked out of his daydream. [Cye has his British up about something,] he thought immediately. Usually this happened when something was unnecessarily untidy or left neglected for too long. Cye was often unbearably cute when ruffled, though Aya never said as much.
This time it was Yohji who took the brunt of Cye's British flare-up. Though the blond was a full head taller, in the face of Cye's folded arms and tapping foot even he managed to look sheepish about dripping little sea-water drips on the great room carpet.
"You're all wet," Cye stated in exasperation. "Don't worry about Omi, he just has a concussion. But the rest of you--" even Ken turned around at the strict tone of voice "--are getting dried off before you catch something nasty."
Cye leveled a glare at Yohji here, and much to Aya's surprise the blond betrayed him. "Aya has a dislocated shoulder," he blurted, like a small child telling tales on a sibling.
"I know," Aya's lover replied, while Aya looked on in detached fascination. "There's fresh towels in the laundry, it's down the hall and to the right. Take Ken and march. I'll see to Aya."
Yohji was the most surprised of all of them, when he actually turned around and did exactly as he was told.
*****
[I will not panic. I will not panic. I will not panic...] That had been the sole thought on Cye's mind as the unfamiliar car came up the drive. It had to be Aya, it just had to, but why would he be coming here? The quiet swordsman had never expressed an interest in visiting, probably thinking it was too dangerous for Cye, and after a while, Cye had stopped asking. Something had to be wrong...
And something was wrong, as Cye saw, watching as the three battered young men staggered out of the car, one carrying the fourth. He zipped downstairs, fast as he could while rousing the others. /Guys! Aya and his friends are here! They all look dreadfully hurt./
/Right./ Came Ryo's voice, calm as ever in a crisis though it had been years. /Kento and I will scout around the grounds. Rowen, check on things from above. Sage, it sounds like Cye is going to need you downstairs. We'll keep in contact if we find anything./
The chorus of mental "ayes" was almost soothing as Cye reached the door. Ripping it open, he just stared for a moment. Aya looked even worse up close and the others were just as bad. He barely stopped himself from grabbing Aya and shaking him, noticing just in time the way the redhead's arm was hanging oddly. Ouch. That was going to be a problem. He shooed them all in quickly, knowing they'd need to get a look at Omi first. There was something in his coloring and the stillness that worried him. And as usual, took refuge from the fret in snapping orders.
First, get Yohji and Ken upstairs and warm, Ken would probably need his head looked at but he was moving, it could wait. Get Sage to look at Omi while he took care of Aya, then the other two. Spare rooms needed to be made up, dry clothes found... He wrestled his thoughts in line, neat and orderly. Now he could get somewhere without the fretting getting in the way.
*****
Sage hurried his way back into the house from his meditations by the lake. The brief picture of the boy he'd received from Cye had him worried, that kind of stillness went beyond a physical injury. A flash of blue caught his eye and he looked up to see Rowen in full Strata armor rocketing upwards. Good, that meant Ryo and Kento were on their way to check the grounds. He hoped that their visitors were skilled enough to avoid being followed but it was manageable if not. Though there was, he reflected, not much excuse for sloppy work in any case.
His musings were interrupted abruptly by his almost literally running into two of those visitors in the hall. He didn't connect, of course, his reflexes were better than that. The brunette didn't seem to be in too poor a condition, shock and a head wound most likely though they could wait until he cleaned up. The other on the other hand... well then... Sage barely stopped himself from being obvious in his appraisal of the blond.
Long clean lines, lovely honey blond hair, what little that was clean anyway, an intriguing expanse of midriff, even with the bruising on his face, the man was very, very attractive. He also had a chip on his shoulder that could be used as building material. Most interesting was the slightly baffled look, the kind that usually meant someone had run into Cye in full blown "mother hen" mode.
"Excuse me," Sage said, trying to get the rather dazed focus on him. "You're looking somewhat lost."
"Uhh... Laundry?"
"I think that bathing in general would be the better idea. Go upstairs, it's the fourth door down on the left. There are plenty of linens and supplies. You'll need to get cleaned up before we can treat your injuries." Brisk tones seemed to work well at the moment and he could tell that the blond was fastidious enough to take the offer of being clean without too much arguing. Plus, having to lead his companion around should keep them both out of trouble for a while.
He turned towards the living room after allowing himself a good look at the retreating blond's ass. Now if he just shared his teammate's preferences... or could be persuaded to. The thought of Rowen and him taking care of that attitude problem was an intriguing one. But there was other business to take care of at the moment, that being the two others needing more immediate care.
"Cye?"
"Down here, Sage. I think we should take care of Aya's arm first then deal with Omi." Cye's voice sounded even enough to someone who couldn't hear the echoes in his mind. He was putting on a front for his lover about the boy, that probably wasn't a very good sign.
"Certainly," he said, taking a look at the two as he walked in. The boy on the couch looked worse than Cye's mental image had shown, thankfully the redhead's... Aya's, he supposed, arm was a simpler matter. "Cye? Get him out of that trench coat while I look at the boy. You said his name was Omi?" At Cye's nod, he sat down on the couch, placing his hands on the boy's temples. "I believe I remember him. He was the one with the crossbow, yes?"
He got the expected stony silence from Aya and a nod from Cye. Well, it was a silence punctuated by a muffled curse as Cye got the coat off but close enough. Cye took the bracing position, holding Aya tightly as Sage took hold of the arm. Without warning, it would have only made him tense, the joint was snapped back into place with a yell from the patient. The yell was ignored as Sage sent a wash of Halo's power over the shoulder, tightening ligaments, healing the muscle and bone.
"There, that should do. You should go clean up with the others. We'll have clothing for you when we're done down here."
Aya looked down at Omi, starting to get a stubborn set to his jaw when Cye spoke up. "Please, Aya? We can work better if it's quiet and they don't know the house. You know where the big bathroom is, help them, please?"
Amazing how the stubbornness just melted away, Sage would have to remember that. As the redhead headed up the stairs showing every sign of knowing where he was going, Sage turned back to the boy. /This is bad./
/I know,/ Cye said, speaking that way to be sure they'd not be overheard. /It's more than just the injuries, he's strung tight, I can feel it even through the unconsciousness. The others are too. Whatever has been going on has left them all about ready to snap./
Sage closed his eyes, sinking warm green light into the body lying between them. /What a mess... what did he get hit with, I have to wonder. The entire back side of him is a wreck. Take care of the concussion, would you? And I agree, I don't feel comfortable turning them loose any time soon. With the state they're in, they'd probably be more a danger to themselves than they would anyone else./
/Right./ Blue-green flowed in as well, mixing with the green as Cye redirected the swelling in the brain. /As much as I hate to do it, just heal enough to get them out of danger? That should serve as excuse enough to keep them here. Hmmm, I think I'll take a look through their things when they get cleaned up. Anything should probably have been ruined by the water but I can guarantee it./ He paused for a moment to concentrate, feeling for cracks in Omi's skull. /Give me a hand with this? Anyway, from the look of them, I don't think there's really anywhere else for them to go./
/I agree. I don't like forcing this much healing anyway. I'll let the rest of the guys know that we're not going to let them leave./ "There," Sage said finally, removing his hands. "That should do it. Would you take him upstairs with the others? I can check in with Ryo and they know you."
"Certainly," Cye said, picking Omi up gently. "You know where I'll be."
*****
Every step was just the same as he remembered. Each inch of floor was laid out exactly like that house of his dreams. Aya felt exhausted tears pricking behind his eyes, and the familiar tug of longing toward that beloved place pulling on his heart. It was all just as he remembered it.
Yohji stood there with a silent Ken in the middle of the upstairs hall, hesitating. Like looking at a reflection of himself, it struck Aya so hard that he had to stop at the top of the stairs and catch his breath. He remembered standing there himself, wondering at all those doors, wondering which led to his room. Which led elsewhere... which led to Cye.
The second Yohji saw him, he was pelted with questions. "Where the hell is the bathroom? Who was that chilly blond guy? How many people live here anyway, I need a god damn map to get around!"
"There." Aya pointed to the appropriate door, brushing past Yohji and Ken toward it, answering his questions in precise order. "Date Sage. Six. Get in here."
"Da~te?" Yohji asked, disbelieving. "That guy? You don't say. Does he live here all the time?"
Annoying questions after annoying questions. Aya gritted his teeth and looked for soap and towels where he knew they would be. So many questions! Normally, Yohji was never this hungry for information.
Hungry. Hungry was the look in Yohji's eyes that day in the greenhouse, when Aya had first seen the emotion he didn't want to acknowledge. Hungry when Yohji looked at him. Hungry now for answers about this place, that man...
Aya looked over his shoulder at Yohji, who was half-heartedly helping Ken get ready for a shower. "We will be staying," he stated, watching for Yohji's reaction.
"Yeah, yeah," the blond sighed, shrugging. He put up no further fight.
Nothing could have happened between the living room and the upstairs hall except the blond. Had that been enough to change Yohji's mind?