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Easy Prey

Author: Eerie
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor. One-shot.
Status: Complete.
Pairing: Akabane x Ginji.
Summary: Akabane goes the extra mile to be with Ginji.


It was late, an eventless night for an eventless day. Except that the first snowfall had finally broken through the ominous blanket of pregnant clouds that had been sagging tiredly over Tokyo for the past few weeks. And it broke hard. Thick white clumps of down descended quickly, pressed so tightly together in midair there was hardly half an inch between their swirling bodies. The glow of the streetlamps hugged the seething air to give the night back its light in the absence of a moon. Golden hues played in the thin slices of air amid the fierce downfall and lightly touched the growing mounds of snow on streets and sidewalks. It was beautiful.

And it was damn cold.

“Master, could you pleeeaaase turn the heat up?” Amano Ginji whined desperately from the corner booth of the Honky Tonk, clutching his bare arms and rubbing his knees together in vain.

Paul scowled around his smoldering cigarette but did not bother putting his paper down to look at his only customer. The kid would only be making huge puppy-dog eyes at him anyway. “I do have other bills to pay here. Your tab alone could supply this place with decent heat for the rest of the winter.”

Ginji groaned with exaggeration and let his head fall heavily to the table. “But I can barely feel my fingers. And my skin is turning blue!”

The redhead rolled his eyes behind tinted glasses. Even in his lightweight shirt the place was not all that uncomfortable. “Then why didn’t you bring something warmer to wear? It *is* the middle of December, you realize.”

Pouting, the blonde lifted his head and propped his chin heavily in his hand to stare forlornly out at the falling snow. “My only coat is in Ban-chan’s car. And he’s been gone all day . . . aagggh! I’m going to die from freezing, Master!”

Paul finally forfeited his shield and set the newspaper upon the counter. He looked up with the intention of waving off Ginji’s complaining as childish, but the puppy-dog eyes were waiting for him, a huge, almost comical frown accompanying them.

A heavy sigh of defeat escaped Paul’s lips as he poured his strong coffee into one of Natsumi’s habitually sanitized cups. Though, he couldn’t blame the girl for her overzealous manner of cleaning things; after all, there was not much business to speak of. Nevertheless, he enjoyed having some company around when things were painfully slow in the café, and she was a rather charming conversational companion. But now he was alone with the hyper retrieval agent, and the sudden exuberant glint in those brown eyes at the sight of the steaming coffee could only mean that the blonde’s mouth would not relent for the rest of the evening. Paul wished he hadn’t given her the night off.

Ginji curled his fingers eagerly around the warm mug before it even touched the table, thrusting it to his mouth. His eyes went wild and started to water as he swallowed a scorching mouthful.

“What did you expect?” Paul asked and crossed his arms. “I just poured it.”

“Yeah but,” the blonde retaliated, “I’m really, really cold!”

The red-haired man considered calling the boy an idiot but instead he shook his head before stalking back to the counter.

“What’s taking Ban-chan so long? I hope the car didn’t stall in the middle of a snowdrift somewhere,” Ginji said worriedly and braved another searing sip of his bitter coffee; the taste made him cringe.

“Maybe your new client is keeping him late,” Paul offered and resumed his reading.

The young man’s mouth twisted to the side in consideration. “But Ban-chan had to drive all the way out to her house early. And he never likes to hang around long after we get a mission. He should be back by now.” Ginji watched a passing car nearly slide into a lamppost as it tried to turn the corner. “Waaa!” he cried as he threw his head down into his folded arms, “Ban-chan, please hurry back!”

“I’m sure he’s on his way,” Paul said disinterestedly into his paper.

The blonde leaned his head back to rest on the edge of the booth’s seat in aggravation. His feet tapped nervously against the floor as he closed his eyes, trying to think about anything but his own distress and that for his beloved companion.

He hadn’t met their new client, but heard several fragments of what the mission would entail from their intermediary. It was Hevn who got the call, and strangely, because most of the situations that she had brought to his and Ban’s attention were the most complex. This particular one sounded a little odd, and little boring. The potential client was unnaturally shy, or so their buxom acquaintance had said, and so her uncle had to call in her stead with the request. Not only did the lady with the proposition want something trivial and of minor value retrieved, but she had refused to meet them at their usual haunt, *and* insisted that only one of them could see her about it. Ban was the only one who could drive.

Ginji sighed and opened his eyes. How could something that small be worth all the trouble? The reward itself couldn’t possibly be worth it. But Ban was convinced that anything was better than sitting around being bored and starving. Plus, the brunette had said with a reassuring grin, if the lady was odd then she probably had quite a bit of money as well. Ginji was doubtful, but he couldn’t resist his friend’s conviction. Actually, he was mostly bitter that he couldn’t go along as well.

With that thought, the blonde reached across the table and snatched the sugar dispenser, prepared to dump a generous stream of it into his coffee, but was stopped by the sudden jangling sound of the café’s front door bell. He looked up with relieved interest, presuming his partner had finally returned. “Ba-“ he began to call out happily, but his voice instantly devoured itself and dripped back into his body as cold dread.

Ginji’s eyes narrowed as he watched the figure draped from head to toe in snow-kissed black saunter to a seat at the end of the counter nearest to the door.

Paul looked at the newcomer with mild surprise. Folding his paper beneath his arm, he approached the man and asked what he wanted.

“Coffee, please.”

Ginji winced at the soft reply and suddenly realized that he had been pouring sugar into his cup all the while. He quickly upturned the glass dispenser and accidentally slammed it against the table when he put it down.

“Oh, hello, Ginji-kun,” the man in black turned his face and said with a polite smile as if he had only just noticed the other’s presence, though his eyes had not been open even then.

Ginji couldn’t mask the shock from his stare. “A-aka-“

“How are you this evening?” the man asked civilly, oblivious to the blonde’s fear; or merely pretending to be. The bits of snow had already melted away from his garments in the cool room as if the jet-black material had hungrily devoured them.

“W-what are you doing here?” the blonde nearly croaked in his dismay. It was certainly not a habit of Akabane Kuroudo, also known within the business as Dr. Jackal, to make visits to boring cafés in the middle of the night, if he knew anything at all about the shady character. Though just what the man did actually do at this hour was another question altogether. Ginji didn’t want to know.

The transporter took a small sip from the mug Paul had set before him and smiled again, causing Ginji to shiver. ‘How can this guy actually like Master’s coffee black?’ he thought.

“Is there something wrong with wanting coffee when it’s so cold outside?” the slight man answered and finally opened his eyes to regard the blonde at the other end of the small room.

Ginji suddenly wanted to bolt for the door. But he’d have to pass Akabane first . . . His eyes roved the window next to him uneasily. However, being one that could hardly tolerate outright rudeness, Ginji forced himself to smile. “Nothing I suppose,” he answered, staring at the snow. ‘Hurry up, Ban-chan!’

“I’m surprised to see you here alone,” Akabane stated slowly and slid his gaze toward the window as well. “Where is your partner tonight?”

The blonde’s fingers tapped nervously against the cup holding his extra-sweetened coffee, but Ginji didn’t want it anymore. Plus, he didn’t think anything could remove the newfound chill from within his bones.

“Ban-chan’s out getting a job for us,” he said, pulling in his focus. He could see Akabane’s somber reflection in the glass gazing over at him. Ginji was a bit surprised to see the guy even had a reflection.

“Really,” the dark man said, suddenly smiling, “And how is it you’re not with him?”

Ginji tore his eyes from the window and pored over the tiny scratches carved into the tabletop instead. “Oh, that. Well, the client said she only wanted to see one of us about it. Pretty weird huh?”

Akabane briefly turned his attention to the redhead discreetly eying the strange customer sidelong through dark glasses, instantly causing Paul to clear his throat and resume his reading. The transporter retained his smile as he shifted violet irises along the edge of his hat’s brim to focus on Ginji again.

“Perhaps,” he said and blinked slowly before taking another careful sip.

The retriever attempted to swallow the expanding lump in his throat, but found that his mouth had gone uncomfortably dry. He picked up his burning cup and mimicked the killer’s cautious manner of drinking, immediately pulling a distasteful face at the syrupy contents. Akabane’s nearly inaudible laughter caught his ears.

Ginji turned and met the dark man’s gaze. “What’s so funny?” he asked, annoyed.

The transporter’s eyes glinted even in the shade of his hat’s wide brim. “You’re always so full of amusing expressions, Ginji-kun.”

“It’s too sweet,” the blonde stated blandly.

Dr. Jackal raised an eyebrow. “Strange, I took you for one that enjoys sweets.”

Ginji absently chewed his lip. “Well I do. But my coffee has to have the perfect amount of sugar. It’s a habit.”

The slight man lowered his head. “I understand. A glitch in a long-lived routine is frustrating.” His head rose to look at Paul again. “Please pour Ginji-kun another cup.”

The retriever watched with startled amazement as Akabane extracted several coins to purchase the order. The guy was buying him coffee? That could only mean one thing. Ginji was now obligated to converse politely with the one man who made his skin want to crawl right from his bones.

Paul silently obeyed his strange customer’s request and served the young man a fresh cup. There was panic in Ginji’s eyes to be sure as he shrugged and sauntered back to his usual position behind the counter, but he had nothing to intervene with. ‘Best just to let the kid take care this situation himself,’ the redhead thought. ‘Ban comes to his rescue too much anyway.’

“Th-thanks. You really didn’t have to do that,” the retrieval agent said quietly.

Akabane smiled a smile so petite it was impossible to believe so much evil could lurk behind it. “I know, but I wanted to.”

He watched as the young man sweetened the cup’s contents with humorous care, as if one false movement would make the entire vessel explode like some experiment gone wrong. Dr. Jackal’s smile widened in amusement. When Ginji took a sip and didn’t wince, he asked needlessly, “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Akabane’s smile remained as it was. “You’re welcome, Ginji-kun. Though, I must say it’s difficult to hear and speak to you from opposite ends of the room.”

The retriever’s faltering smile felt as though it would provoke his face into spasms of discomfort as he turned to his patron and said in a broken voice, “Y-you can sit with m-m-me if y-you want to.” Crossing his fingers, the youth hoped to all holy things that his offer would be declined and he would no longer have to talk with the homicidal eccentric, much less sit within two feet of him.

Ginji could feel tears already starting to well beneath his eyes as Akabane glided with cat-like grace from the barstool and advanced toward him. The formfitting, floor-length coat flared out with every step like an exotic fish’s tailfins, and the retriever found himself wondering how anyone could stand wearing something so cumbersome all the time. He preferred his baggy clothes because they allowed him so much flexibility and comfort alike. ‘But still,’ he thought, ‘it would be nice to have any coat at all on a night like this. Even if it was Akabane’s. I wonder if it would even fit me though. Akabane is so skinny, but it’s hard to tell with all that black.’

Dr. Jackal seated himself nimbly in the booth seat opposite from the young retrieval agent and noticed the far-off look in the other’s eyes. Cocking his head slightly to the side he asked, “Is something wrong?”

Ginji blinked several times in rapid succession, suddenly realizing that he had been openly and mindlessly staring at his new companion. And with really weird thoughts. Quickly turning his head to the window, he replied, “Oh-no-um-I mean, sorry.” He felt warm with embarrassment and was quite sure that it was currently showing on his fair cheeks.

The transporter smothered a brief laugh behind closed lips. “There’s no need to be sorry. I understand that you’re nervous, under the circumstances. After all, our experiences together have not always been pleasant. Our first encounter in particular. Is that it?”

Ginji recalled the shining scalpel pointed directly at his heart as the enormous truck came screeching as loudly and terribly as a choir of furious banshees to bowl him over. The fear that grasped his mind at the miraculous moment that beast came to a halt and found him still standing as he was had nearly ripped the consciousness from his mind. And though Akabane could have been flattened just as well as he, the man stood just as firmly, but all the while with that infernal Smile. To describe the incident as not very pleasant was an understatement.

“Yeah, probably,” Ginji answered and shivered.

The older man nursed his coffee mug for a moment, reflecting. “You know, it was nothing personal. And though it was ill luck for the both of us that night, I wouldn’t have changed it. I was able to meet you, after all, Ginji-kun.” A smirk hugged his lips just before being hidden behind the ceramic cup, his eyes watching for the young man’s reaction.

Ginji smiled crookedly in return, not knowing whether the sentiment was in fact a good thing or not. “S-sure.”

That Akabane was attempting to make such pleasantries with him was actually quite frightening. Ginji wondered if the man might suddenly turn his odd scalpels loose when he least expected it. Maybe Jackal was still grudging over the second half of that night when the Raitei nearly tore him to pieces. He couldn’t imagine the transporting agent angry, but that didn’t change the fact that the black aura of a cold killer constantly clung about him like a wavering veil. Akabane could be thinking just about anything and Ginji would be none the wiser.

Cradling his hot mug, the retriever began to chew his lip again, wishing for the hundredth time that Ban was back, but with newfound desperation. Akabane wasn’t saying anything now, and he certainly didn’t know what to talk about. The tension was already bringing a sweat to his skin despite the temperature. But he had to do something . . . or else Akabane might get bored. And that could be fatal.

Sifting through various topics in his mind, Ginji picked the first one that might appeal to Jackal’s tastes. ‘Dear god, what have I got myself into?’ he cried out in his head and hoped that Akabane didn’t expect him to be the conversation starter for the rest of their untimely time together.

Ginji eyed the man nervously. “So, um, how did you get into the transporting business?” He couldn’t help but hold his breath as he waited for his companion’s reply.

To his relief, the dark-haired man smiled into his cup.

“It’s a fast-paced career, for the most part. One that provides a sense of urgency and occasional conflict. These things are important to me, as I cannot stand stagnancy” His smile grew wider in a cryptic sort of way. “Besides, I have a natural talent for efficiently removing obstacles, and many clients tend to like that.”

What he called “obstacles” were actually people, Ginji knew, and his “efficiently removing” was a ridiculously, if not insanely, polite way of saying murdering. He suddenly wished he hadn’t chosen this topic.

But Dr. Jackal continued. “I found it amusing enough to fill my time, but all that became nothing more than child’s play the moment I met you Get Backers. I remember your expression vividly, Ginji-kun. Grinding your teeth in such a rage, yes, I sensed your powers immediately. And that you actually defeated me . . .” He paused in memory, though its flavor was not made obvious.

Violet eyes then dragged over the young man’s face until they met startled brown. “But it seems that it’s very difficult for me to enjoy myself now when the two of you aren’t around. You’ve raised my expectations a little too high to be content with the old jobs. So . . .” Akabane paused to finish off the last of his coffee. “It would seem that I got into the transporting business to amuse myself until I found someone like you.”

Ginji’s eyes widened. “R-really? That’s pretty strange, I guess.” He furrowed his brow in thought before suddenly brightening. “Hey! Does this mean that you’re not going to be a transporter anymore?”

Akabane smiled. “Quite the contrary. As long as you and your partner are retrievers, how could I pass up the chance to fight you?”

Ginji was becoming confused. “B-but, we fought on the same team in the Infinite Fortress! How can you willingly fight us as an enemy now?”

Akabane laughed softly. “Don’t distress yourself. It’s only for fun, after all.”

“Mmm.” Ginji mused silently for a moment. What he really wanted to say was ‘maybe, but that’s no reason to kill your other adversaries,’ but it didn’t seem like a good idea. Akabane probably wouldn’t care anyway. But, then again, there was that time when the children of the Fortress attacked under the spell of Makubex’s wires and didn’t permanently fall to Jackal’s deadly advances. Maybe he and his friends actually did have some kind of effect on him. The man was so hard to understand that it was difficult to say.

Ginij didn’t have much more time to think about it when Paul strode up to the booth. The redhead stopped at Ginji’s side and placed an arm on the backrest.

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation here, but I’m afraid I’ll have to close soon.”

The retrieval agent’s eyes were a frightened animal’s. “But Master! Ban-chan’s still not back! What am I supposed to do?”

Scowling, Paul sighed. He couldn’t just throw the kid out on the street in the dead of winter. But Ginji certainly couldn’t stay there either, and he really didn’t feel like dragging an abandoned puppy home with him.

“If it would please you,” Akabane broke in quietly, “you may stay with me until your partner returns.” He turned his head to watch the onslaught of snow. “But I doubt it will be tonight that he does.”

Ginji’s face felt as though it would simply drop off and splat against the table. He felt like crying out that Ban would be there soon, he just had to come back, though Akabane was most likely correct. The snow was quickly filling the streets outside, and maybe Ban had to stay at the client’s home until the plows could come in the morning.

The slap of Paul’s hand on his shoulder startled the young retriever and he looked up to watch the café’s proprietor walk away as if in slow motion. Now he was stuck.

Akabane was looking at him expectantly, and harmlessly enough. Ginji quickly weighed his unattractive options. On one hand he could stand outside the Honky Tonk all night in a blizzard, waiting for his friend while probably freezing to death in the process. And on the other there was going with Akabane to who-knows-where, and probably getting killed in the process. Great. Just great.

A polite smile formed on the dark man’s lips, and Ginji groaned inwardly. Akabane *did* appear to be in a decent mood tonight, and murder didn’t seem to be on his agenda. Perhaps it really was a considerate offer and nothing more.

“Are you sure, Akabane-san? I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose or anything, and if it wasn’t so cold outside—“

“No worries, Ginji-kun,” the transporter interrupted his companion’s ramble, “It would be a pleasure to have you as my guest.”

“Oh, um. Ok then. Thanks.” Ginji tried hard not to furl his brow in astonished confusion.

Jackal stood and gently tugged on his hat to Paul before stalking to the door. Ginji followed at a distance, hoping that his host didn’t live too far away. The latter stopped and held the door for the blonde, keeping his eyes hidden from view behind his hat’s brim.

Ginji gulped and stepped out into the icy night, the bitter air striking through him immediately. He gripped his meager vest tightly about himself in vain, subconsciously cursing his retrieval partner for making him go through such a trial of strength. But before he could even voice any sort of complaint, something both coarse and soft at the same time fell over his shoulders. The blonde quickly looked down and saw a long black coat dangling against his frame like a cape.

Turning his head, he saw that Akabane had stepped up beside him in his shirtsleeves, nodding. “B-but I can’t! This is yours! You’ll be the one to freeze,” Ginji protested.

“Not at all. As you can see, I’m wearing more than you. Besides, I don’t really mind the cold.” Jackal gripped his hat and pulled it down to shield his face from the snow.

‘Even though he’s skin and bones, that somehow that doesn’t surprise me,’ Ginji thought, but stretched his arms through the coat sleeves to test its fit. He was amazed to find that it actually fit him somewhat adequately, though he couldn’t quite get it buttoned. But at least the hem stopped just above the ground.

“It suits you well, Ginji-kun,” the transporter said and smirked. “You should wear black more often.”

“Really? You think so?”

Akabane looked up through the slit in his brim. “Very much.”

That look somehow made the retriever’s nerves bristle. ‘He’s probably picturing me a funeral suit,’ Ginji thought, but studied himself anyway. He had to admit that it was a cool coat, and he’d never worn anything like it before. But still. He was wearing *Akabane’s* coat, of all people.

“Shall we go then?” Jackal spoke and began to head up the sidewalk.

Ginji held the coat closed and followed before falling into step with the older man, their feet crunching in the crisp snow. They walked in silence for a few blocks before he piped up, “Are you sure you’re not cold?”

Akabane chuckled very softly. “Could it be that you’re concerned for me, Ginji-kun?”

“Well yeah. You might get sick or something.” He didn’t know whether it was a trick question or not.

“Your distress touches me, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll be there soon.”

The strange pair continued to walk on without conversation, each saving his breath from the merciless chill. Ginji kept his eyes on the ground and followed Akabane’s feet to keep the plummeting snow out of his eyes. He really had no idea where they were going; only that it was somewhere west of where they had started. When the black shoes at his side came to a stop, brown eyes finally looked up. And went wide.

The building was tall, no less than fifty floors. Two great columns balancing shining spheres of gold-colored metal reached up at either side of the entrance like postmodern sentries. A guard stood at the doorway in full uniform, and had obviously recognized Akabane, as he was already working the lock on the door and pulling it open. As they stepped past, he gave Ginji a quizzical once-over and shook his head.

The retriever had seen this building before. The entire district was practically made for big-time businessmen and people with unimaginable loads of money to spend on the costs of living. He and Ban had driven through a few times, cracking jokes about the suits and yuppies hanging around, but secretly envying them their excessive stash of funds. And now he was about to see it all firsthand.

The lobby of the building looked like some upscale hotel. A six-tiered fountain topped with a somber cherub threw up colored light-enhanced streams of water in complicated patterns. A huge jewel-dripping chandelier hung from the high ceiling to illuminate the expensive designer carpeting and furniture in their sanitized perfection.

Ginji stood for a moment just inside the doorway, bedazzled. The sudden contrasting switch of environments made his head spin, and he had to brace himself against a marble pillar framing the doorway until he could adjust. He couldn’t believe that Akabane Kuroudo lived in such a place. Just by looking at the man, Ginji would never guess that he had such wealth.

Jackal stopped in the center of the exquisite room and turned to see why Ginji was stalling. The blonde’s head was tipped back to stare up at the chandelier, his mouth agape. Akabane laughed at the sight before returning to Ginji’s side.

Taking the retrieval agent’s arm with a gloved hand, he asked, “Are you feeling alright?”

Ginji lowered his head and stared with open astonishment at the dark man. “You live here!?”

The transporter smiled. “Yes.”

“That’s unbelievable! How can you possibly afford it?”

Akabane began to pull his guest away from the doorway toward the twin set of elevators and gently squeezed the arm in his grasp before releasing it. “Now now, Ginji-kun. It’s rude to ask such questions.”

Ginji allowed himself to be led along, not quite registering that Akabane had actually touched him. His eyes were too busy taking in the visual feast. “Oh, sorry,” he said absently.

They boarded the elevator lined in gold-gilded mirrors and Ginji caught a look at himself in the black coat, suddenly remembering that he was wearing it. He jumped as the lift ascended and began to quickly remove it.

“Oh yeah, here’s your coat back,” he said and wriggled out of its sleeves. He handed it to Akabane, who smiled and accepted it. “I didn’t think it’d fit me, but I was surprised how comfortable it is.”

“It was specially made. Though it wasn’t quite as expensive as the one you destroyed.”

Ginji tensed up, remembering the night he had pulled Jackal’s scalpels from his body with his electromagnetic powers. Yes, the thing was probably in shreds after that.

The ride to the floor on which Akabane resided was filled with silent tension, though the blonde wasn’t sure if it was shared. One thing was certain, if he was squeamish before, he was positively nervous now.

The elevator came to a stop and allowed the pair to slip out, the dark man in the lead. They walked along the long hall before Akabane stopped at a door, extracting a set of keys from his trouser pocket. With click and a light push the door opened, and he held out his hand for Ginji to enter the dark space beyond.

“Please,” he said and watched the retriever hesitate.

“Uh, after you,” Ginji offered instead, clearly not wanting to enter the pitch-black room without assurance that the door wouldn’t be shut and locked behind him to prevent his escape.

Akabane caught this and smiled bemusedly. He went inside and clicked on a switch to bathe the room in soft illumination, giving Ginji the go-ahead. The latter followed suit and removed his shoes at the door while Jackal hung his coat and hat on an ornate set of pegs.

Compared to the rest of the luxurious building, Akabane’s apartment was disappointingly normal. The furniture was scarce for such an immense space, but tasteful nonetheless; only a couch, two chairs and a coffee table decorated the living room. There weren’t even any pictures on the walls, which Ginji found surprisingly white and not slathered in black or blood red. Nor was there even a television set. It was as if the one inhabiting it had no interests at all.

“Please have a seat,” Akabane said and brushed past Ginji on his way to the kitchen.

The blonde obeyed and lowered himself on one end of the couch, immediately fidgeting in nervous discomfort. He suddenly decided he’d give anything for a beer.

As if on cue, a soft voice issued from the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink, Ginji-kun?”

“Sure,” the retriever replied and suddenly pictured Akabane spiking whatever he would bring out with arsenic. But the sight of the brown glass gleaming in Jackal’s pale hand was too inviting to care about caution. And it was even his favorite brand. The blonde breathed in relief.

Akabane handed Ginji the beer and sat in the chair nearest to his companion, lacing his fingers together over his lap. “You’re free to as many as you’d like.”

After a generous pull, the blonde looked over and asked, “Aren’t you going to have one?”

Smiling strangely, the dark man said, “No. I don’t like beer.”

Ginji raised an eyebrow. ‘Then why does he even have it?’ he wondered. But he decided it better to keep that question unvoiced.

“So, back to our previous conversation, what made you decide to go into the retrieving business?” Akabane asked.

“Not much. Me and Ban-chan have always been good at jobs like that, so one day we decided to make our own business of it. Plus, Ban didn’t want to get a normal job. He said they’re too boring. I don’t know, I’ve never had one.” Ginji smiled and looked up to meet his host’s gaze, but suddenly noticing the way that Akabane looked and was looking at him, he faltered.

The man’s head was tilted slightly to the side, his black hair wild and almost glowing beneath the warm lamplight. His shirtsleeves had been rolled up to his elbows and his tie loosened to reveal the topmost button of his shirt undone. His violet eyes shined oddly above a smile so faint it almost wasn’t a smile. He looked . . . human. That was the only way that Ginji could think to describe Akabane in that moment. Among comfortable surroundings and without his omnipresent coat/hat combination, the man seemed like a different person entirely.

Akabane just gazed back, unmoving, not the least bit uncomfortable with meeting Ginji’s eyes. At length he said, “Your friend was right. Besides, it would be a sin to waste your talents on anything else. Anything . . . normal.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” Ginji finished his beer and stood to get another one, pausing until Akabane smiled and nodded permission at him.

The kitchen revealed just as much about its resident as the rest of the apartment. The refrigerator was practically empty; aside from the numerous bottles of beer, only two white boxes of leftover Chinese food made up its contents.

Ginji took a bottle and closed the door, pausing to inspect a bit further. The stove and countertops were perfectly flawless, and looked as though they had never once been used. There didn’t even seem to be a speck of dirt on the white laminate floor. ‘How can anyone be so clean . . . and empty?’ he mused and turned to exit the room.

When he returned, Ginji found Akabane with his head leaning against the chair’s back and his eyes closed. And for once that pale face was devoid of its usual eerie expression. He actually looked peaceful and relaxed. Fascinated, the blonde paused where he was to take in the sight, for he’d most likely never see it again. He wondered if anyone had seen Akabane in this way. The man really was quite handsome.

Ginji chided himself for thinking that particular thought and shuffled back to the couch. As he sat, violet eyes reopened to regard him.

“And with Midou-kun, how did your friendship transpire?” Akabane asked suddenly.

“Mmm, well, that’s kind of a strange story. Ban-chan and I had this huge fight the first time we met. It was actually pretty ugly. Just the opposite of the way we are now.” Ginji stared at the wall with a faraway expression. “It’s funny how similar we were even then. We were both so sad and angry. I think it was fate that we met at that time.”

“You believe in fate, then?”

“I guess I do. Everything’s gotta happen for a reason.”

Akabane straightened his neck. “So you would say that you have no control over your own life. That something unseen controls it, maps out your every move?”

Ginji’s face crunched in doubt. “That’s a little much. I think we can control what we do, too.”

“But Ginji-kun, how can you have it both ways? How can you discern what is fate and what is your decision alone?” Akabane’s voice was a little louder than usual; he was either interested in the subject or the fact that he had Ginji trapped with that one.

If it weren’t for the alcohol already running its encouraging course throughout his veins, the blonde would definitely be reluctant to risk any sort of argument with a man who could list murder as a hobby. But if Akabane was about to reveal something interesting about himself, how could Ginji resist? Sure the man scared the hell out of him, but a certain curiosity also accompanied that fear. There was something about Dr. Jackal that drew Ginji in, something not unlike that unseen spark within Midou Ban.

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it that way before,” the retriever said honestly.

“Do you think it was fate that you winded up here tonight?”

Ginji finished his second beer, thankful for the warmth that it induced. “Maybe it was. I’d be a lot worse off if you didn’t show up.”

Akabane smiled discreetly at his hands as his guest stood to make another trip to the kitchen.

They talked nonstop well into the small hours of the morning, and Ginji had emptied the refrigerator of all but the Chinese leftovers. The effects of all the alcohol were impossible to ignore now, and the blonde felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“Ahh,” he said as he slouched and leaned his head back, “I think I drank waaay too much. Why’d you lemme drink so much, Akabane-san?” He knew it was a mistake to close his eyes.

“Perhaps you don’t know your limits, Ginji-kun,” the older man offered. “But I suggest against sleeping on that sofa. You’ll wake up with a sore neck.”

“I don’t think I can move,” the retriever said and hiccupped.

“Give me your hands.”

Ginji pried his eyes open to see a blurry Akabane standing in front of him, arms outstretched. Sucking in a great breath, he focused hard and lifted himself, instantly stumbling. Fortunately the slight man caught him, and somewhere in the back of Ginji’s mind came the realization that the transporter was deceiving in his outwardly frail appearance.

Akabane led the young man slowly down the hallway and into his bedroom, where he deposited his burden onto the bed. “There,” he said and straightened, “you may rest here, and tomorrow you can meet up with your partner. Sleep well.” As he turned to walk away, the retriever’s voice stopped him.

“Where are you gonna sleep?”

“On the sofa, of course.”

“But you said it was uncomfortable. This’s your house, so you shouldn’t have to. Why didn’t you leave me there?”

“It’s nothing at all.”

“But Akabane-san lent me his coat and gave me his beer, which he doesn’t drink, and there’s a lot of room on this bed. It’s too much.” Ginji knew he was drunk, and was pretty sure he wasn’t making sense, but to have his host give up the bed for his inconvenient visit seemed like too grand a gesture.

He heard the man hesitate before sighing, followed by the shuffling of clothes. Curious, Ginji opened his eyes. In the faint light filtering in through the hallway, he could just see that Akabane was undressing. He undid the buttons of his vest, and it was folded and placed on the simple dresser top before the tie and shirt followed.

That soft light fell against the mysterious scars decorating Jackal’s arms and torso, and Ginji remembered back to their initial fight when he had first seen them. Until now, he had completely forgotten about them. And for some reason it made him sad to see those nearly white tears like bizarre patchwork marring Akabane’s unbelievably fair skin.

Preferring to keep his slacks on, the black-haired man walked to the other side of the bed and lay out upon his back. “Goodnight, Ginji-kun.”

With a good deal of effort, the blonde rolled over. “Akabane-san, how’d you get those scars?”

The man’s eyes opened to look at the ceiling. “You certainly don’t think before you speak do you?” Suddenly he smiled. “But that’s something I like about you it seems.”

When he realized the transporter was going to say nothing more, Ginji asked, “Did it hurt?”

“More than anything.”

“Sometimes,” the blonde said slowly, “my electricity hurts too. Like when it’s hard to control.”

“Don’t you enjoy that pain? That which comes with power?”

“But I don’t like to hurt people. Sometimes I just have to, but I don’t like it.”

“That sounds like you.”

Though he couldn’t be completely sure, the retriever thought he heard something like sadness in the older man’s voice. “I’m sorry, Akabane-san. I’m too much. But you really are a nice person for letting me stay here and everything. I owe you one.”

Violet eyes moved from their stationary gaze to look at him. “And what,” the transporter drawled, “would you give me?”

Ginji blinked slowly, trying to think of a worthwhile answer, but nothing seemed good at all. “I dunno. Whatever you wanted.”

Akabane suddenly donned his cryptic smile. “A dangerous offer, indeed.”

“Huh?”

“Ginji-kun. Are you in love with your partner?”

It was so completely out of the blue and Akabane’s voice was so serious that Ginji very nearly sobered up right then and there. He could feel his cheeks going hot with embarrassment. How the transporter had picked up on this was beyond him. Ginji was the type to shower his good friends with notable affection. Was it so obviously different with Ban? He felt like a child who had been caught with his arm to the elbow in the cookie jar.

“W-what do you mean?” he stammered.

“There’s no need to pretend. You know exactly what I mean.”

Ginji braved a look into Akabane’s amethyst eyes, which were watching him so intently it was frightening. He quickly pulled his gaze away. “Why are you asking me that?”

“You said you’d give me whatever I wanted in return for my hospitality. I’m just making some good of your offer. I want to know.”

Furrowing his brow, the blonde made a sound of aggravation. “That’s . . . Ban-chan’s my dearest friend!”

Akabane studied the youth’s discomfort for a moment. “Ah, so he doesn’t know it after all.”

“Know what?”

The black-haired man rolled nimbly onto his side to face the retrieval agent, one arm propping his head up. “It must be frustrating. To have such feelings and doing nothing about them. What is it like to deny yourself what you want more than anything? Does it hurt the way your powers sometimes do?”

Brown eyes went wide in alarm. “Akabane-san, you’re starting to freak me out.”

The transporter paused before laughing and said more lightly, “You really are an interesting guy, Ginji-kun. You never cease to amuse me.”

The blonde laughed in a combination of relief and discomfort. So Akabane was only messing with him. Thank goodness. Ginji yawned and let his eyes slip closed, ready to fall into the velvet claws of slumber. He was just beginning to plummet when he was pulled back into a wavering reality by Akabane’s voice.

“Ginji-kun.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you asleep?”

“Mmm, no,” the young man said absently, already drifting back into sleep and the realm of semi-conscious dreams.

After a lengthy pause, something soft brushed against his bottom lip so lightly he hardly registered the sensation at all. He did, however, feel that touch glide gently down his chin and spread to smooth over his throat. The touch was cool and comforting, and it wasn’t long before Ginji was lingering just at the far border of consciousness.

The fingers worked back up his neck and paused to grasp his jaw, moving his head slightly. What followed was similar to that first caress, but this one was firmer and had descended fully over his mouth. The grip on his jaw became slack and slid up the side of his face to find hold at the back of his head, turning that touch on his lips to near crushing.

Before long something hot and wet snaked out to part his lips, and he didn’t bother to resist. The serpent tumbled into his mouth, coiling tightly about the tip of his tongue before crawling away, its tail flicking against his upper lip. When the slow-dancing sensation returned, Ginji’s body began to act for him, his mouth opening further in invitation.

He knew very well that the intimate movements were those of a kiss, but his sleep-fogged, dream-hungry mind couldn’t quite put a face with the opposite end. It didn’t really matter. Something about being in such a state made it far too enjoyable to come back to full awareness, and just savoring the sensations from there was enough. It didn’t take him much persuasion to return the gesture with equal vigor.

The blonde’s arms circled the neck of the one paying homage to his mouth and a groan rumbled his throat as his body pressed against his seducer. The kiss was practically throat deep at this point and made his body tingle with arousal. He had kissed a few girls before, and each time it was pleasant enough, but this particular session was already nearly mind-blowing. The mouth on his belonged to a master, no doubt about that, and it made his past experiences pale with dullness. He didn’t think he’d ever find someone who could kiss like that again, if he could remember it in the morning.

But the alcohol settling on his brain like a blanket of stone began to press him down again, and Ginji’s muscles started to ache and scream for sleep. Hands were finding new places to explore beneath his shirt and he knew that what was to come would exceed everything he had just experienced. He loosened his grasp and dropped his arms, allowing his body to go slack even as the mouth released his and trailed down his throat. As soon as it reached his collarbone, Ginji was out.


Sunlight filtered through the window and settled right across the retriever’s eyes. Ginji scrunched his face in annoyance and rolled away, the movement letting him know that certain pain was already swelling in his head. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see the dashboard of Ban’s car waiting to greet them.

He was lying on a bed. Had he gotten a motel room? No, there was no way he had the money for that and neither did Ban. It was someone’s personal room.

Ginji stared groggily at the scant dust motes playing in the sunbeam on the wall, trying to recall the night before. That’s right, he was sitting at the Honky Tonk. Sitting and waiting for Ban to bring them a job. It was incredibly boring . . . and cold . . . and he had coffee. Wait. He didn’t have any money to get coffee . . . and the first cup Master gave him was spoiled. Somebody had bought it for him.

Ginji’s eyes flew open and he bolted upright, instantly regretting the action. Pain cleaved into his brain like a dull axe.

He put a hand vainly to his forehead and breathed deeply in relief. The night was coming back to him then. Akabane had been surprisingly generous enough to offer him a place to stay out of the snow. They had even talked all night about various subjects like actual friends, though he had no idea what they were. He was amazed that Akabane could talk so much, could appear somewhat normal for once.

And he remembered drinking. A lot. Whatever happened after that was a fuzzy shadow in his mind. But he did have the most fantastic dream . . .

With a hasty look down at himself, he hoped that the disheveled state of his clothing didn’t point at the worst possible meaning. He rarely had enough room to toss and turn in his sleep anyway. Yeah, it had to be the luxury of a real bed for once. Even with the forced reassurance, a cold chill raked over his spine.

The blonde swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood, hating himself for drinking so much. His body ached everywhere, in muscles he didn’t know he even had. But he stalked from the bedroom, down the long hallway and into the living room, where he stopped to find Akabane sitting in a chair reading a newspaper, already neatly dressed in his jacketless suit attire.

Though Ginji had been as silent as a mouse with the thick carpeting underfoot and Akabane’s back was to him, the transporter said, “Good morning.”

“What time is it?” the blonde asked.

“Almost noon,” Akabane replied and turned a page.

“I slept that long!?” Ginji cried and walked to the window to inspect the conditions outside. The streets were bustling below; the snow had been cleared from the roads and they didn’t appear icy anymore. “I hope I didn’t miss Ban-chan!”

“Forgive me, I kept you up so late . . .” the older man said. sorry.” Ginji inched away from the window and toward the door. “But I really appreciate you letting me stay here again. Sorry I cleaned out your refrigerator.”

Akabane turned another page, appearing disinterested in the other’s presence. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I enjoyed your company. And I hope your partner found a worthwhile job for you. If so, I wish you luck.”

Taking that as a goodbye, Ginji crossed the remainder of the room and stooped to put his shoes on. As he twisted the knob and pulled the door open, the transporter spoke again.

“Ginji-kun.”

The blonde stopped halfway through the threshold and leaned back to look at the black-haired man. “Yeah?”

The Akabane he knew looked up then, eyes closed above that creepy Smile that made Ginji cringe every time he saw it. “Just so you know, there’s no obligation for you to repay me.”

“Oh, alright. See you.” Ginji closed the door behind him and walked swiftly to the elevator, feeling quite disturbed.


Paul looked up as the bell on the café door jangled and a rush of winter air blew in with the customer. Putting his cigarette out in the ashtray, he cast a doubting look at the brunette sitting with chin in hand at the counter and excused himself into the back room. If he knew anything at all about his most frequent customers (if people who rarely ordered anything could be called customers), there would most likely be an argument involving a high level of electric current, and he certainly didn’t feel like being stuck in the middle of something like that again.

Ginji slammed the door closed and glared at his partner, who yawned and lit a cigarette. The blonde was a blur in his haste to topple Ban over from his barstool and pin him by the throat to the floor.

“Where have you been all night!?” Ginji growled. “I was really worried. You could have at least called or something!”

Ban gruffly pushed his friend away from him and stood up, dusting his shirt off. “Well excuse me, but you’re not the only one who had a shitty night.” He bent and retrieved his fallen cigarette, indulging in a long drag. “And by the way, there is no job. That call that Hevn got was a hoax. I drove for miles to get to a house out in the middle of nowhere that was abandoned and had to freeze my ass off sleeping in the car because there wasn’t enough gas to leave it running and get me back here. I nearly got in a wreck on those stupid country roads with all the snow. But shit, yes I’m alright and thanks for your concern.”

The brunette upturned the barstool and plopped solemnly back down on it.

“The call was fake?” Ginji repeated.

“That’s what I told you,” Ban snapped.

The bell jangled again. Both men turned to see Hevn saunter into the café dressed in a tacky faux fur coat with her blonde hair piled on top of her head. She smiled cheerfully and moved to greet them.

“Hey, you really should get more information on the legitimacy of these missions, middleman,” Ban said and glared at her.

Hevn stopped, startled at his bad mood. “What are you talking about, Ban-kun?”

“I’m talking about this shady trip you sent me on to wind up lost and stuck in the boonies.”

A confused look crossed her face. “It was a prank? Why would someone do that?”

The brown-haired retriever snorted. “Beats me. But whoever called must’ve been a pretty good actor to deceive someone so skilled in this business.”

Hevn scowled. “Well it wasn’t my fault, so you don’t need to get ticked off at me. There was nothing unusual about the call, except that the guy was very soft-spoken.”

“What did you say?” Ginji asked, suddenly staring at her with wide eyes.

A fine blonde eyebrow arched at his urgency. “I said that the caller had a quiet voice. It would have been hard to hear him at all but he spoke kind of slowly. I thought there was something familiar about it too, but I was probably imagining it.”

When Ginji remained silent, still staring at the woman, Ban shot him an annoyed look. “What’s your problem? And by the way, you look like hell. Where did you end up staying last night?”

Ginji’s mouth dropped and snapped back shut as if he decided not to voice what had just crossed his mind. Instead he took a seat by his partner’s side.

“From now on, we’re sticking together on every job.”


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