(1) Sunday1.20: Something has happened!

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

The sun has set and the flickering glow of streetlights reflects off the Koneko's doors, alleys shadowed in the night.

A blond Japanese man with a pleasant face framed by square glasses, medium frame clothed in a crisp beige suit, walks purposefully down the deserted sidewalk. He has a suitcase in one hand, he carries a can of coffee in the other. When he reaches the flower shop, he places the suitcase on the ground, bends over and opens it. With precise ease, he enters a series of commands. Within a matter of minutes, the building's security programs, Weiss' and Kritiker's both, are disarmed.

He picks up the suitcase and slips inside the back door, placing the suitcase on the kitchen table and repeating his motions. The alarms are reset. He dumps the rest of his drink down the sink and throws out the can before taking a seat facing the door, hands folded neatly in front of him on the table, waiting for Weiss to return.

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[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi’s mind had only half-returned to reality as he punched in the security code and unlocked the back door into Koneko. His mind replayed scenes of the movie, drifted in and out of his own imagination, an escapism in which he seldom indulged, and that he wasn’t quite ready to give up for the night.

Until he opened the door and saw waiting inside someone he did not know, sitting at the table, watching the door as though perfectly at home. Immediately he sprung to alert, his first instincts naturally calling out danger. This was an unsolicited visit by a stranger, and only after that did he additionally register that he’d gotten inside without tripping alarms.

Were Omi not quite as tense and quick to jump to conclusions, he’d have perhaps considered this detail and the man’s relaxed posture to a reaction beyond heightened wariness. As it was, confidence like that-- sneakiness like that-- first made Omi think of Schwarz. They’d just dealt with an ambush from them that morning and Aya-chan was right there. Omi’s hands were on his darts in the blink of an eye, though he didn’t pull them out yet.

“Who are you?!” He demanded, still standing in the doorway. If there was any threat behind them from the outside, he was confident Ran would be ready for it. “This is our home-- you have no business here!”

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

The man's eyebrows went up and his body started, but he relaxed into a pleasant smile as his dark eyes settled on the youngest Weiss.

With a slow movement he let go of the case in front of him, extending his hands toward Omi, palms up. "I have no weapons," he stated, his voice medium-pitched and warm. "And to the contrary, all my business is here."

He rose from the chair in a smooth movement, still slow enough not to alarm the boy in front of him any more. Keeping his eyes on Omi's, he reached one hand into his front jacket pocket and came out with a business card, off-white, with a pager number on it and nothing else. He stretched it towards Omi.

"My name is Yutaro Sato," he gave a small bow that made his glasses shift down his nose. Still bent, he looked up to glance behind Omi towards the door. "I come on behalf of our mutual employer."

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi didn't believe him-- why should he instantly trust a stranger with inexplicable access to his home? The man reached inside his coat, and Omi's first thought was he's got a gun. His grip on the darts tightened, and he readied his feet to jump away from the door should one indeed be drawn.

Business card. Or what would be a business card, if it had more than a number on it. He felt no more charitable towards this man yet, even after giving a name and claiming to be from a mutual employer. Kritiker?

The glance past him to the door naturally inclined Omi to check over his shoulder for anyone behind him. No one. He quickly returned attention to Yutaro, or so he claimed to be.

Nope, still didn't trust the guy. He'd violated it already just by showing up unannounced and waiting in their kitchen when Omi knew that no one was there to even let him in.

"Any mutual employer we might share has our cell phone numbers. Why weren't any of us contacted in advance about your coming here in that case?"

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

"Leadership has changed, Mr. Tsukiyono," Yataro straightened. He reached up and adjusted his glasses with both hands, tugging them back with two hands. "It's been decided that minimum correspondence is in our best interest."

He glanced behind Omi again but said nothing, seemingly waiting.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

So he knew his name. Omi's posture stiffened, a bit more nervous now. There had been overall less correspondance than before, none of it having seemed any sort of inconvenience so far. It made things simpler in fact. But this...

Omi's confusion softened his tone. "But why wouldn't we even be told about a visitor? Wouldn't it have been in everyone's best interest to know so we could be here?" Or so as not to risk something like a dart going right into the man's neck with no chance for explanation?

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

"It wasn't necessary," the Kritiker agent's tone was gentle. "I didn't mind waiting."

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

The man gave Ken a somewhat amused glance, but all in all was starting to appear slightly frayed. "I came alone," he called after Omi.

"Well," he said to the remaining group. "This isn't how I imagined this introduction going at all. Tea, perhaps, and a civilized handshake..." he glanced at the furious redhead in front of him. "I wouldn't do that," he added to the brown-haired man working at his suitcase.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Like Omi, Ran hadn't missed the touch between Ken and Yohji. Had they been doing that on the streets? Ran wouldn't put anything past Yohji, but he thought there had been a girl before with Ken...

His first thought had been that one of them was injured, but then he caught a wiff of alcohol. His fists tightened by his sides. Aya-chan had been attacked today. They needed to be prepared for anything, not wasted to the point of...

Then Omi ran out the door.

Aya-chan.

Something prickled at Ran that Omi didn't think she was safe. He had checked the garage. It was empty. It was locked.

It was his job to keep her safe.

Focus, Fujimiya.

"Ken." Ran warned at Sato's comment.

"Why are you here?" Ran demanded, eyes narrowed.

[plotbunnytiff.livejournal.com]

Ken halted in his breaking and entering attempt and put the suitcase down. Figures it would be rigged. This wasn't boding well in the least. He grabbed a chair from the table, flipped it backwards, and sat down, eyeing Sato with all the waryness of a trained guard dog.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

“I’m not paid to trust strangers!” Omi shot back, his increasingly frazzled state lending to a sharper tone than he’d intended it. The sort of tone reserved for reprimanding targets. If one had gotten in, how many more had come with him? There could be ten of them scattered around the interior of the home.

He’d said Kritiker; if he was a liar he was at least an informed one. But Omi thought that if he wasn’t lying, he surely should be more understanding of the consequences of showing up unannounced and unintroduced in the home of four assassins already taking extra precautions to protect another resident. And then waiting inside their home to startle them just on walking in. His apparent lack of that understanding had cost him some of the credibility he’d have otherwise earned by now with a more prudent approach. It was naïve and stupid-- tea and a handshake?-- he overheard as he descended for the garage. He couldn’t help the thought once again that the man was lucky he’d stayed his hand. He could have been dead without so much as the chance to say hello.

...This just -can’t- be Kritiker! They’re competent!

He jumped down the last steps to the garage and hesitated for one moment to listen for sounds of a struggle. Nothing. They could have heard him racing down the stairs. Nice stealth, Omi.

Why couldn’t he get his act together tonight?

Hand at the ready on his darts, Omi half-opened the door and peeked in. Quiet. No immediate sign of danger. Staying alert, Omi moved to the car and opened the door, keeping his eyes looking around the room rather than at Aya.

“There’s someone we don’t know upstairs. He got past security. I’m going to stay here with you until we’re sure there’s no one else inside. It would be best to stay quiet.”

He slipped back to the bottom of the stairs for further instruction. As far as he was concerned, it was Bombay time. “Ken-kun. Yohji-kun. Search the rest of Koneko for others. Go armed. Report back when you’ve confirmed there’s no one else waiting in ambush. Aya-kun can handle Sato.”

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

"That was a joke," Sato prompted, "the tea..." he trailed off.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Every now and again, the mostly abandoned part of Yohji's mind where his detective thought processes resided would decide to speak up and interject upon whatever his current situation happened to be. Since detective-Yohji relied mostly upon instinct and reading people, this happened to be fairly at odds with assassin-Yohji's requirement of following orders and utmost caution; hence detective-Yohji's tendency to get ignored and more or less buried. Right now however, detective-Yohji was saying that if there were others with malicious intent upon the premises, they all would have been killed ten times over since walking so obliviously through the door. The fact of the matter was that detective-Yohji believed that Mr. Sato was telling the truth. Not that he could have adequately explained to the others why he suddenly found himself trusting the alleged Kritiker agent, and wanting very much to hear what the man had to say.

Ignoring both Ran's frigid glare and Omi's commands, Yohji walked deliberately to the sink and began to fill the Kettle.

"Green or Black?" He asked, looking Yutaro Sato calmly in the eye.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

“Green or Black?”

He heard his teammate’s voice from upstairs. Tea. Still around in the kitchen, after explicit orders.

He’s deliberately ignoring me.

The realization hit Omi ten times harder than the observation that Ken and Yohji were holding hands. He felt as though a sandbag twice his size had just collided with him head-on. Yohji. A trusted teammate, one of three he depended upon in a serious situation to act with him as a unit, openly undermining his position as leader right in front of ... one of two possibilities. An enemy, which wouldn’t look good, or a genuine ally... which would look even worse.

After the initial wave of shock and betrayal, Omi felt a quiet rage swell in his stomach. He really was. He was going to the kitchen and offering tea to someone they didn’t even know that had broken into their home.

He wasn’t sure if he was so mad he couldn’t speak, or simply so hurt.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran felt the same sense of disorientation that he'd felt that morning after the phonecall from the supermarket.

What the hell was Kudoh thinking?

What were any of them thinking? Omi running off in the middle of dealing with this. If there HAD been anyone, that would have alerted them to the fact that there was something important in the garage. Ken trying haphazardly to open a briefcase, when who knows what could be inside. Yohji making tea, of all things, for someone who had yet to prove was on their side.

Sato, Ran noted, was looking just as bewildered as he was. The only difference was that "bewildered" translated to "homicidal" for Ran.

Sato hadn't let it escape him. The man threw a confused but grateful smile towards Kudoh and then looked seriously at Ran. "Abyssinian," he said, "I'm only here for introductions and to let all of you know -" he glanced toward Ken, "that you've been activated. New threats to the safety of the people have shown themselves." He held up a hand, "but you do not have an assignment tonight."

Ran's lips thinned. "Kritiker couldn't think of a better way to introduce us? How can we trust you?"

Sato smiled again, thinly. "Your home is still here. I'm alone. You're alive."

[plotbunny-tiff.livejournal.com]

Ken was halfway out of his chair as soon as he heard Omi's "Bombay" voice. There was only a slight hesitation that slowed him down near the doorway of the kitchen, wreaking havoc on his instincts to obey orders.

Yohji was filling up the kettle.

He tried to catch his team-mates eye, but they were unreadable from the angle he was standing. A quick glance at Ran--yup, the man looked like he was about to have kittens on the spot.

After the space of a heartbeat, Ken decided to do what he thought best.Trust his team. Follow Omi's orders, have faith that Yohji knew what the hell he was doing, and go take care of his duties.

Except Sato's next words temporarily blew Ken's brain waves.

"...you've been activated."

He slowly turned, unable to keep a neutral expression in place. There would always be evil in the world. He knew it, understood it on a subconcious level. But there was a tiny selfish part of him that...rebelled against taking up the dark mantle of the people's protecter. Not now, not when he'd been so close to holding a warm, fragile hope for his own future. He looked to Omi with a sad but determined expression, and then back to Yohji.

That talk would have to come a lot sooner than he was ready for. There might not be any more tomorrows.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi heard it, too. Abyssinian. A code name. The lack of them thus far had only aided his wariness, but hearing one made it more difficult to discount the man as a liar and enemy.

That didn't redeem Yohji in the slightest.

Activated. In Omi's mind they'd never been deactivated. It was just... a dry spell, he supposed. The sick feeling in his stomach had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with the rapid series of confusing and upsetting twists the last few minutes had taken.

A stranger had slipped past security and surprised them all, leaving Omi to wonder if their current level of it was enough.

Chaos had ensued as they tried to figure out whether he was an ally as he claimed or a liar and enemy.

Ken and Yohji had walked in holding hands.

Yohji defied a direct order, placing his trust in an as-of-yet unauthorized stranger in their home over him. Placing his priorities in making that stranger tea instead of confirming the security of the rest of the building. Omi was -still- reeling from that.

And now the man really was from Kritiker and the whole team looked like a joke. Humiliating.

He wasn't looking up and missed Ken's glance. He stared at the bottom of the stairs, clenching his fists and fighting for self-control. Don't show your emotions. Climb the steps. Be professional. This was business.

God, they sucked so hard.

One step at a time, Omi slowly returned to the main floor and stopped in the doorway, expression unreadable. He pointedly avoided looking at Yohji, concentrating instead on Sato. He wanted an explanation, but held his tongue.

[plotbunnytiff.livejournal.com]

Ken returned to the kitchen looking slightly winded and more than a bit rumpled. He'd checked nearly every nook and cranny of the place, but there was no evidence of any other unexpected visitors.

The addition of his weapon threw off the tasteful outfit he was wearing, but that didn't even register to him. The heavy, worn in weight on his hands was disturbingly comfortable after the wringer he'd put himself through.

He watched Omi offer Sato the briefcase before retriving a bottle of water from the fridge. Things apparently checked out, which was good. As good as that sort of thing could be anyway.

Now as soon as this Sato character left, he would have to deal with the fallout from Yohji's choice in judgement. It was probably going to tap the last of his reserves.

He gave Yohji and Aya the 'All Clear' signal, then took a few more gulps of water and leaned on the counter.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran watched the transaction, Sato's face and Omi's determination to stay professional despite being proven wrong. He was right to have done what he had, however. Omi had remembered himself quickly.

Ken returned, signalling the rest of the Koneko had checked out. Yohji was still by the sink, also watching them all.

Sato's appearance seemed to have served as a reminder that they were still a team. Not just roommates, or coworkers, or whatever they had become. He still wasn't sure if he could say they weren't strangers.

All joined together by their common employer, represented by the man who still smiled too much standing in front of them.

Their reaction had been fatal. In the wake of Aya-chan's return, Ran...Aya...had let himself go. He had been so caught up in remembering how to be a brother, a father, a protector to his little sister that he had forgotten how he'd come to be there. How she'd come to be awake. Or at least, he'd forgotten that he was still that person. That it hadn't been someone else working those bloody nights.

They needed to become Weiss again. Or choose not to. As far as Ran could tell, however, he had no choice, because Schwartz was still out there tracking them. Tracking Aya-chan.

He assessed Sato, who looked relieved that he had that briefcase back in his hands.

"I'll be in contact," Sato said, and gave a short nod towards the back door. "I'll go out that way. It seems you wouldn't want me going to the garage." His eyes flicked towards Omi.

He's Kritiker, Ran reminded himself. He crossed his arms, staying between him and the garage door. Where Aya-chan was still waiting. But there were still things to discuss concerning their team.

Ken and Yohji in particular. He thought grimly.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Once Sato left, Omi let his expression fall. He took a few moments to stare at the floor, hearing the reprimands all over again, and it was even harsher now that he knew the validity of them. Sato really was from Kritiker. He really had evaluated them. And they really had sucked.

Your team did not respond efficiently. You cannot control your members.

He tipped his head forward, bangs falling forward and shadowing his eyes. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this disappointed in his team, and in himself. Only Aya had really done well. He should probably tell him that later. For the time being, he just wanted to be alone.

Without looking or speaking to any of them, he turned and slowly walked for the stairs.

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran noticed his teammate's retreat, but there were larger problems to deal with than bruised egos. He wasn't going to reprimand them.

Of course not. He would blame himself, not them, for disobeying his orders.

All the frustration that had been building since that morning's encounter, the awkwardness of the movies, the anger at being surprised and taken down by their new liaison from Kritiker, suddenly welled in him at the seeming unbalance in the room. His sister could have been killed. They would have been killed first, if someone could have really gotten through their security. The way they had responded was unacceptable.

Ken and Yohji holding hands like....lovers...disobeying direct orders from their leader... Their oblivion would get them all killed.

"What the hell were the two of you thinking?" Ran exploded, slamming a hand down on the table.

[pichi.livejournal.com]

Omi paused on the stairs as Ran exploded, shrinking slightly from the severity of the reaction. His stomach felt twisted and cold. Reprimanding Ran was always the most difficult of the three for him. He'd hoped to simply slip away and let everything dissolve for now, to be addressed more later, but it seemed that wasn't going to happen.

"Mou ii." He wearily said to the floor, rather than look up. "I'm sure Yohji-kun and Ken-kun understand the severity of their mistakes without being lectured. Thank you for your hard work, Aya-kun. Out of all of us, you responded best. I appreciate it."

[7bladed.livejournal.com]

Aya-Chan sat quietly in the car, staring at the door leading inside. She could hear yelling, but couldn't make out much of it. Again, the question, why would you stay...? came to mind.

The door opened, and remembering her brother's words, she quickly ducked down.

A tap.

Hesitantly, she looked up, almost expecting some kind of monster. Aya-Chan felt relief flush over her at Ran's face. She fumbled clumsily with the lock, pushed open the door, and stumbled out towards him. "Niisan! What... is everything-" it took a moment for her to collect her thoughts. "Is everything alright?" He certainly didn't look too happy...

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran forced himself to smile, albeit dimly. "We had an intruder, but it's all right. Thank you for trusting me and staying here."

Her face was so confused, and worried. Ran felt the guilt of it like a sword through his gut, but it was overpowered by the greater feeling of anger that they had to live this way. She deserved to have a normal existence, not this non-life that he had chosen to follow.

But she would be safest among them. He didn't trust Kritiker with his sister's life, and there was no where else for her to go. As lax as they had become, he trusted his teammates above any others he knew.

They just couldn't afford to forget who they really were.

[7bladed.livejournal.com]

She slugged him.

Her fist impacted with Ran's shoulder before she could fully comprehend what was going through her mind. She hadn't quite meant for the punch to be all that forceful.

It was too late to turn back, so Aya-Chan pushed forward instead.

"What were you thinking?!" she scolded, glaring at him. And then, without giving the man in front of her a chance to react, she wrapped her arms around him. Held onto him almost as if she were afraid he'd slip and disappear forever. She buried her face into him. "I... didn't know what was going on," she said soft, her voice muffled. "I was afraid."

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Aya-chan's fist came up out of nowhere. He clamped down immediately on his automatic block and let her follow through.

Nevertheless, his amethyst eyes stayed opened in shock, even as she stepped forward and held onto him. After a moment he brought a hand up to her back.

How much longer? How much longer could they all keep her ignorant? Safe?

She isn't ignorant, a tiny voice answered Ran, Just trusting.

But even that would end, when she knew what he was. Who her brother was.

"I'm sorry," he murmered.

And really, there wasn't much else he could say.