Day 3: Explanations
“That bad, huh?”
Ban was sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee in front of him. Ginji was already soundly sleeping after the long night. Ban was tired himself, but he had business to attend to first.
“A bit,” Ban said, placing his sunglasses on the table to wipe at his eyes.
“Care to share?”
It was seven in the morning. The sun was rising, its bright light reflecting off of the white snow. If Paul had not closed the curtains, both men would have been nearly blind by the light. The café was still closed, and would remain closed for the day. Paul deemed it unworthy to open to café on this day, since he had not had a single “normal” customer that week.
Ban looked up from his cup of coffee and stared at Paul. The old storekeeper’s stare was impossible to see with the sunglasses that he always wore.
“She apparently knew who I was before I even walked in.”
“Well,” Paul replied, glancing at the sleeping Ginji, “most people in the business know your name by now.”
“But,” Ban said with sincerity in his voice, “she used the Jagan against me.”
Paul stopped reading the newspaper, and folded it, giving Ban his undivided attention.
“What was that?”
“She used the Jagan,” Ban repeated, taking a sip from his coffee. “Before that, she used the Snake Bite.”
With that, Ban raised his right hand. Paul could still see the red marks from a smaller hand clenching the young man’s hand like a vice.
“Odd,” Paul murmured to himself.
“But it doesn’t make sense,” Ban half-muttered. “That old witch was the only one close to using the same ability, and now this little girl is doing it too?”
Paul’s mind began to race through names, faces, and recent jobs in the business.
“Rika,” Ban muttered, his grip tightening on the mug.
“What was that?”
“Rika,” Ban repeated, placing the mug on the table before he shattered it.
And now it makes sense.
“Get some sleep,” Paul said to Ban, walking away from the counter.
“In the car?”
“No,” Paul replied as he walked to the stairs. “Take the booth.”
Ban found it strange that once again, Paul was housing them. He did not think twice about it, and immediately fell asleep.
“How is she?”
“Exhausted,” Renault replied, placing a new cloth on her head.
“She disobeyed my orders twice,” the businessman said, the case handcuffed to his hand.
“What should we do about it, sir?”
“Let her keep it up,” he said, turning to walk away. “If she wants to kill herself, then let her.”
With that, the man left, leaving Renault standing over the still form of Rika.
“What do you think,” Renault whispered, removing the mask from his face.
“It is just a game,” a voice replied from the shadows.
“I know, but…”
“It is her choice. We cannot change that.”
Renault sighed, and placed the mask on the desk next to her bed. With a bow and a flourish of his cape, he left the room.
“All a game indeed,” the voice in the shadows said with a slight laugh.
“Youji,” Omi said, walking into the flower shop.
Youji did not bother to sleep at all the night before. He had too many thoughts on his mind, and had spent the night pacing to each room to make sure that they were alright.
Omi had just a few bruises on his neck, but aside from that, he was alright. Aya had taken that bullet quite deep, and the doctor was unsure when he would be fully able to use his arm again. Youji had a feeling that when night falls, Aya would be using his arm as if nothing happened, despite the pain.
Ken was the case that worried him the most. It was obvious that he had taken a blow to the head. After the stitches, the doctor’s confirmed that he had a concussion. No one was sure how long he would be under it’s influence, but Youji assumed that it was out of the question to allow him to continue the mission.
“Yeah,” Youji replied, looking up from the cat’s cradle string design between his hands.
“Something wrong?”
Youji moved his fingers and connected his hands. Upon pulling them apart, there was another design.
“Possibly.”
“It was hard to sleep last night with you pacing the whole time.”
“Sorry,” Youji replied, his voice distant.
“What happened after the fight?”
Youji shrugged.
“I passed out as well,” Youji admitted. “I woke up soon enough to help Aya get to the hospital. That is it.”
Omi listened intently, thinking of his next question.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No,” Youji replied, creating another design with the string. “We are outclassed, and we are now outmanned.”
“I know,” Omi replied, seating himself on the counter.
“What do you think we should do?”
“We should continue the mission,” Omi replied, his stare hardening. “Even if we are missing Ken and Aya is not up to par.”
Youji fell silent for a few moments, changing the string in his hands into something else. A few moments of silence passed by before Omi spoke again.
“You’re thinking of something, aren’t you?”
“Of a deal,” Youji said without looking up and without further questioning.
“From?”
“Schwarz.”
Youji spent the morning explaining what happened at the hospital, and the offered truce from the two members of the normally “opposing” team.
The debated for hours, standing across the counter from each other, the business card between them, each of them weighing the possibilities.
Schuldig was awakened from his almost restless sleep by Crawford’s voice. Apparently, the doctor was allowing Nagi and Farfarello to leave, with some restrictions of course. With that, the four of them entered the car, with the same seats that they had the night before.
It was this time Schuldig noticed the difference in the mood.
We were beaten Schuldig thought, turning the ignition.
Nagi was solemn. This was the first time where his ability had proved inferior to another. Nagi has never met someone who could match his telekinesis. In fact, he was the strongest telekinetic that Schwarz, or even Eszet, had ever seen. A loss for him was a grave matter indeed, and he seemed to be wallowing in that feeling now.
Farfarello, on the other hand, was in worse mental shape than physical. Farfarello, in his inability to feel pain, usually did not mind a few cuts or a bullet wound. This time, what he was feeling surpassed any physical pain that he could possibly feel.
His physical level of damage was enough to kill a man. He had a fight with “Dr. Jackal” before the mission started, which left a large number of cuts on his flesh. The mission had left bullet wounds to his stomach and grazing his chest. Everyone was thankful to hear that the bullets missed and vital organs, and because of the design of the bullets, they penetrated through the other side. Essentially, Farfarello had a few small holes in his midsection, which was currently bandaged to extremes.
Crawford appeared even more exhausted then before. Schuldig assumed that he didn’t sleep at all. His face was showing stubble, his eyes were half opened, and his normally perfectly groomed suit was wrinkled beyond belief.
“So,” Crawford said, his voice shocking almost everyone in the car. “What does it seem like we are up against?”
“A very skilled telekinetic,” Nagi responded gravely.
Farfarello did not answer the question.
Schuldig paused for a moment, focusing on driving in the snow, too busy to answer.
“Schuldig,” Crawford asked, “what do you think of that woman?”
Schuldig almost felt himself smile.
“What,” he began, “you want to ask her on a date?”
No one else was smiling.
“Ok, I get it.” Schuldig paused for a moment as he steered the car around a tight corner, feeling the tires slowly gain their grip in the snowy conditions.
“I don’t know how she did it, but she did.”
“Did what?” Farfarello’s voice piped up from the back, which caught them all by surprise. No one expected the usually silent Irishman to speak, especially now.
“I can’t really explain it,” Schuldig began, shifting the car into gear. “It was like she was taking the abilities that we had and were using them against us.”
Farfarello let a small grunt pass his lips, which left Nagi in shock. He rarely heard any unnecessary sounds from this man. Usually, it was Schuldig who would never shut up.
“It was strange,” he continued. “I would communicate with you, and she suddenly began to do it as well. I would use my speed, and a moment later, she would too.”
“Exactly,” Farfarello stated before Crawford had a chance to speak.
“So,” Crawford said, regaining his composure, “we have a woman who could use our very own abilities against us. Which means she was able to block my ability to see her next move, but she was able to read my mind to see what my next move was.”
“While we couldn’t read the other’s mind, she was able to see my moves before I used them.”
“Precisely.”
They continued the drive in silence. Farfarello then spoke up.
“I’m sorry.”
Schuldig slammed the brakes of the car, feeling it slide on the snow. As soon as it reached a complete stop, he turned his head to look at the Irishman behind him. Apparently, the other members had followed suit.
“You really should move again,” Farfarello said, looking straight ahead, “or else it may be suspicious.”
Schuldig complied.
“What is it you need to apologize for?” Crawford’s question came out calmly, as if he already knew the answer. Nagi listened with rapt attention. This was another new experience.
“That woman…”
“I know,” Crawford replied. “Continue.”
“That man I was fighting,” Farfarello began, pausing to think for a moment. “He changed his appearance, but…”
Crawford looked stern for a moment. The Irishman appeared to be lost in though, as if he was reliving something. Nagi wanted to speak, but he heard a command from Schuldig in his mind to wait. He complied.
“That was all he could do,” he said. “He could change the way he looked, but not his real being.”
“How do you know?” Crawford’s question was said with earnest. Apparently, either he really wanted to hear it, or he really did not know.
“The space I was leaning against did not change, even though…”
“That’s enough,” Crawford said, understanding now.
“What in the hell is going on?” Schuldig asked Crawford.
“It’s going to take time. Let’s just get home first.”
Schuldig applied more gas, and urged the car to move faster. Curiosity was getting the better of him, and he wanted to hear what was going on in Crawford’s head.
Wamushi was sound asleep against the wall, his sword held in his arms almost as if he was embracing it. Renault knew by now that the apparent elder was still a skilled warrior, but the events of the night must have exhausted him.
So, Renault thought, walking past the sleeping man, he met with the mysterious “Dr. Jackal.”
“Going somewhere?”
Wamushi’s voice broke the silence of the small house. His eyes were still closed, but his hand was on the hilt of his sword.
“No,” Renault replied calmly.
“Then stop pacing,” Wamushi said, removing his hand from the grip of his sword, “and get some sleep.”
Renault knew better than to argue with the elder man. Years of working with him had proven that his wisdom was normally correct.
“Understood,” Renault replied, turning to walk to his room.
“But,” Wamushi said, oddly in the mood for conversation, “how is the girl?”
“More exhausted than the rest of us.”
“I see,” the elder said, his head sagging slightly. “This is the price we pay, isn’t it.”
Renault did not give an answer. He was truly exhausted himself, since he diverted most of his attention to the current weather. It was time to sleep, he believed.
The four of them sat in the main of their apartment. Nagi was sitting at the computer, but he was not typing at all. Farfarello was standing in a corner, his arms crossed, his head down and one eye closed. Crawford was unsure if he was sleeping or awake, but it didn’t matter too much. He just assumed that he was awake and decided to continue.
Schuldig was seated on the sofa, his feet on the table. If he had some popcorn, it would have appeared that he was ready to watch a movie instead of hearing Crawford speak.
“It would appear that we have a problematic situation.”
No one responded.
“Our opponents can imitate our abilities, change their appearance, and alter the weather.”
Nagi gave Crawford a stern look.
“You didn’t lose against a telekinetic,” Crawford explained. “The man moved all of the air away from you, creating a near vacuum.”
Nagi’s stare did not soften at this information.
“It is obvious,” he continued, “that we cannot defeat this group on sheer skill. I cannot see their next moves because of that woman blocking me somehow. Nagi’s telekinesis will not effectively work against that phantom.” Crawford said nothing about Farfarello’s failure. Both he and Schuldig knew the event for their own reasons, and did not wish to worry the young boy in their presence.
“So,” Farfarello said, again breaking the silence, “what should we do?”
“Get some sleep,” Crawford replied. “I’ll just be waiting for a phone call.”
That call came just a moment later.
Ban’s restless sleep was awakened all too soon by Paul.
A glance to the clock on the wall showed that it was noon. Ginji was still sleeping, apparently dreaming of food with the way he was muttering.
“Something wrong,” Ban muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
Paul responded by placing a piece of paper in front of him and walked to the counter.
Ban glanced at the paper, all the words he wanted to say dying on his lips.
“She really is in the business, isn’t she?”
Somehow, Paul had gotten almost every piece of information on the woman. Everything from her bra size to how many times her braid was twisted before being tied. He truly did have everything on her.
He even had the reason why she knew of Ban.
“She blames me for this?”
“Apparently so,” Paul replied, pouring a cup of coffee.
Ginji stirred, muttering something about Ban taking the last of the tuna.
“But that was…”
“When you were at Mugenjou,” Paul replied.
“So how does this…”
“It doesn’t,” Paul replied, placing the mug on the counter, “until you read the rest of the pages.”
The other pages contained other people in the business. With their current job.
“This is the protection team?”
“Yes,” Paul replied.
“And what does her team have to do with her hating me.”
“Look into ‘Remae.’ Then it should make sense.”
Ban quickly shook Ginji to wake up.
“I think we should get moving,” he said to his just waking friend.
Before the sentence finished, a lone figure wearing a black trench coat, large black hat, and white gloves walked into the café.
“We shouldn’t accept the offer,” Omi said, glaring at Youji. “It could be a trap.”
“I don’t think so,” Youji countered. “Two of their members were in the hospital, just like ours.”
“Don’t you think they set that up as well?”
“That American knows everything. I don’t think he purposely set his own team up for a fall.”
Omi fell silent for a moment.
“We don’t have a choice, Omi. If we take their offer, we can at least hope for the best and try to finish the mission on our terms instead of theirs.”
Omi turned away from the counter. Youji turned to a flower arrangement. They were both silent for a moment.
Both turned to the phone a moment later, seeing Aya dialing the number on the card.
“We’re taking it,” was all he said.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Crawford said into the phone.
“Cut the crap,” Aya said. “You want to make a deal, and I am calling. What are the terms?”
“A little bit cranky, aren’t we,” Schuldig said just loud enough for Aya to hear.
“Pardon my associate,” Crawford said. “He hasn’t had his beauty sleep yet.”
Aya was silent.
Schuldig took the phone from Crawford and took over the conversation.
“So, you finally came to your senses and decided to join the winning side?”
“It seems that you wanted to do the same,” Aya retorted.
“Touché.”
“What are the terms?”
“We’ll move together, that’s all. We are both outmanned, outclassed. At the very least, we can outnumber them together.”
Aya thought of it for a moment, and glanced to Omi. His face showed no sign of any ideas.
“Meet at the department store,” Aya muttered into the phone. “You’re friend should know the details.”
Schuldig glanced to Crawford, who answered with a nod.
“We will meet there at sundown.”
“Deal,” Schuldig replied.
Both sides hung up the phone.
“I think this will be a long night,” Schuldig said, walking to the bedroom. “And I need my beauty sleep.”
“Aya,” Omi said as he hung up the phone.
“Not now,” Aya replied. “We don’t have a choice.”
“What happened last night? I mean what really happened?” Youji’s questions met with a cold stare from Aya that would have made ice seem warm.
“We can’t stop those bodyguards,” Aya said, walking to the back door. “We never stood a chance. We don’t have a choice. We need to complete this mission, no matter what.”
Before the others could answer, Aya returned to his room, weighing the consequences of his decision.
Paul did not bother to say that the store was closed. Ginji snapped awake and looked to the lone figure at the door. Ban just calmly walked to the bar and took his cup of coffee.
“Akabane-san,” Ginji said, “What are you doing here?”
For the first time, Ginji saw Akabane smile at something that was not a reference to a fight.
“I wish to offer a job,” Akabane said.
“Oh?” Ban’s voice showed a lack of interest.
“It seems as though we have the same goal in mind,” Akabane continued.
“We are not going to kill anyone,” Ginji said, his eyes never leaving the cold assassin.
“Ginji-kun,” Akabane began, “is this a way to treat an old friend?”
“A friend?” Ginji stood up, his hand moving to his belt.
Ban chuckled to himself.
“What do you think, Akabane? Were you outclassed?”
Akabane’s face suddenly showed a sign of a loss of joy. The man’s face never fell to this level of serious, and in a way, it sent a chill down Ban’s spine.
“The opposition is a group of quite skilled bodyguards,” Akabane began. “We cannot defeat them on our own. Additionally, if we do not combine forces, we would be outnumbered by the two assassin groups with the same goal in mind.”
“What do you mean ‘assassin groups’?” Ginji’s hands fell to his sides, but it was obvious that he was not relaxed.
“Ginji-kun, you are telling me you do not know of Weiß and Schwarz, even after being the Rai-tei for so long?”
Ban glanced to Ginji, raising the pack of papers that Paul had given him.
“Akabane is right, you know. Those two assassin groups are groups of four. That means we have eight other people going after the same target, and Akabane makes nine. And then we have the four bodyguards, which means thirteen people we would have to fight.”
Ginji’s gaze showed confusion.
“So we really are outnumbered this time, aren’t we Ban-chan?”
“It would appear that we all are,” Akabane said. “So, what do you think, Get Backers?”
Before Ban could speak, Ginji’s voice came in.
“Why don’t you just do it yourself? Outnumbered never bothered you before.”
“While it would be interesting, I cannot do it myself.”
Ban sipped his coffee, and Ginji stared in disbelief. Akabane, the man who was only on the job to have fun, had truly met his match.
“I cannot have fun if I am unable to continue. Teaming with you is my assurance.”
Ginji fell silent.
“On one condition,” Ban said.
“Which would be?”
“Don’t turn against us, even for a short time, until this job is complete.”
Ban was referencing their time in Mugenjou, where Akabane wished to fight Ginji at his full potential.
After a moment’s pause, Akabane agreed.
“We will meet at this airport tonight,” Ban said.
“But Ban-chan,” Ginji said, “isn’t that abandoned?”
“Not tonight,” Ban said. “They five of them are moving tonight with a private plane. We should be prepared to meet them.”
Akabane smiled.
“This will prove to be interesting yet.”
With that, he left the café.
“That man still gives me a bad feeling,” Ginji said, sipping his coffee.
“But we don’t have a choice either,” Ban said.
Ginji sighed.
He had a feeling that this night would be the end of many things. He hoped that the only thing that would end would be this job.
