Chapter XI (11)

Note: Run! Run! I've lost my mind!

"There's chatter." Kirishima poured Asami's hot green tea (Starbuck's was closed), his voice so low Asami thought he hadn't heard right. But he knew that he heard right, he had his hearing tested recently. Kirishima and Akihito ganged up on him and made him get tested after he kept turning up the television louder and louder. Turns out, he had wax build up in his ears. Even the doctor joked he could make candles out of the wax and sell them to the monks.

So, in response to multiple threats, some kind of analogy of shoes and knives invaded the happy home of Asami and Akihito. One dropping, the other cutting, and the tension growing ever thicker with each passing day. Too bad it wasn't sexual tension although there was a lot of that as well. That he could deal with. His mother on the other hand…

"And what does this chatter have to say."

"Freezing assets, mostly, the government likes cold money." Kirishima flipped through some files, found the one he wanted and placed it squarely on Asami's cowhide blotter. It read Confidential in big red letters. Every file carried the label Confidential. It made is easier for spies to know which files to take.

All of them.

"Legal chatter then, nothing else?" He stared at the file. Something about it….not it's manila color, not it's big red Confidential stamp emblazoned across the front, but the sheer size of it. It bulged in the center, the binding ripped and repaired like he couldn't afford a new file (he's not cheap, he's frugal). The file's label, well, it might as well have read Boring Shit Volume 1 because that's what it was, boring shit, to borrow Akihito's phrase whenever he watched the stock market ticker or the business report.

Akihito wanted to know what he did for a living? He was doing it….reading reports, writing reports, reviewing reports. Then, he'd leave for a meeting, a business deal, maybe some dinner and then continue with reports…ad nauseam.

Nothing beat some dry reading during a warm spring rain. And this reading was as dry as a witch's teat.

"Silent as a grave from your mother's camp, which worries me." Kirishima's worried expression continued, his brow furrowing between those black frames. His right hand man, the one he thought he knew everything about, limped away, clutching his back, not realizing Asami watched him closely.

"Well, that's some kind of happy news, so don't look so…..pained." Asami smirked, he knew that walk. He'd walked it himself recently, after Akihito topped on White Day….twice, before Akihito passed out (well, Akihito passed out, he fell asleep) on that white fluffy rug (now trash). They never even made it to the bedroom. White Day became Akihito Gets to Top day, although the boy had argued that once a year wasn't enough. Yeah, good luck with that.

It was exactly ten days later (he counted) since White Day, and his doctor cleared his crotch for take-off. Actually, Asami was never sure he'd burned his crotch, or if Sensei Shimuzu just played a practical joke on him…probably the latter.

A heavy breath from his second and Asami caught the worry in Kirishima's eyes. "The assets they want to freeze….are Akihito's."

He chuckled. "Let's see them try….his mother doesn't like bullies, so I'll defer to her. I'll inform her of the situation….unless there is something else?" He went to dial Akihito's mother's number but noticed Kirishima hadn't left, in fact, the man appeared lost, in another world. Dreamy eyed.

Please tell me I'm hallucinating still and Kirishima is not standing there dreamy eyed.

He blinked a couple of times. Nope, Kirishima was still standing there with half-lidded eyes and a rosy tint on his cheek.

"Kirishima?" His secretary jumped just slightly and pushed his perfect glasses up his pointed nose. "What's her name?" He knew the 'her' wasn't a 'her' but a 'him' unless the girl he fucked donned a strap-on and rode him like a uke. Even Asami shuddered at that scenario.

"Uh….I'm sorry Asami-sama?"

"You're distracted. You actually have some color in those pale cheeks of yours. Out with it, what's her name? Did you background check her?"

"Uhhh…."

"I can't tell you how many relationships start at the company party. Oh, and last year? There were three births nine months after White Day. One even named their son Ryuuichi. I was touched."

"Fascinating." Kirishima said automatically. He sounded so Spock-like, Asami wanted to tell Scotty to beam him up. Kirishima's color turned a little pinker, especially when someone's heavy three-beat knock sounded at his office door. That knock came from only one person, Suoh. Only Suoh had a secret knock. Call it a perk of employment.

"Enter." He sat back and watched the proceedings. Kirishima barely met Suoh's eyes and Suoh…poor Suoh, Asami could smell his seme pheromones perfuming the room. "I'm only asking as a friend, not as an employer, well mostly your employer…..make sure you background check her."

Suoh stood there, stock still, but his eyes rocked back and forth, from Kirishima and back to him, then back to Kirishima like they shared some unwritten joke, some private secret. "I'm sorry to bother you, Asami-sama but Takaba-san brought you bento for lunch."

"Oh….did he, that's so cute. He gets cuter every day." He took the bento wrapped up neatly in Pokemon themed cloth. It was still warm. "He's so afraid I'll be poisoned he's making me fat with his home cooking. Just the other day, he wore this apron with these little shorts underneath and….."

"If that will be all." Suoh interrupted as he bowed and went to leave, his fervent eyes catching Kirishima's partially hidden eyes one last time.

Oh, this was decidedly a highlight of his day. "Wait a moment, Suoh. I was wondering if you have any information about the girl Kirishima seems to have a crush on." He tried to keep the teasing tone out of his voice, the teasing tone that he used on Akihito, but he found it almost impossible. So impossible, he pretended to clear his throat. His smirk disappeared behind the rim of his tea cup.

"Asami-sama?" Kirishima's color, usually pale and getting paler with even the mention of the word 'sex,' turned bright red instead. "I'll leave you to eat, Dracaena's stocks need checking for the opening."

"Uh..huh. I see. Wait a moment, you never answered my question. You must know, Suoh, you're always at his side. You know everything about him, so spill." Asami opened the bento, the clicking of the metal openings the only sound in the silent room as his two enamored employees eyed each other.

When no one said anything, Asami pushed harder. "Is she an employee?" The chopsticks out, he hid behind them, as his smirk broadened into a grin.

Again, silence from the two idiots before him, one adjusting his glasses, the other feeling for his piece underneath his jacket like a lucky charm. "You know I said to get laid on White Day, I didn't necessarily mean with each other."

Kirishima inhaled audibly and Suoh coughed but still said nothing.

"Finally confessed, huh, Suoh?" Asami's face hurt now. That was the number one reason he didn't become a model. He hated smiling, and now he knew why, his face hurt. "You know he's liked you since the first day you spared with him, Kirishima."

"Uhhh…." The two bodyguards said in unison, perfectly tuned, perfectly stunned and currently with nothing coherent to say.

"That was what….five years ago? Seven?"

"It was six." Suoh finally got the verbal part of his brain functioning. "Six years."

"And here I thought you didn't have a libido at all, Kirishima." Asami enjoyed the tortured look on Kirishima's face. He couldn't meet Asami's eyes, couldn't meet Suoh's eyes. His shiny black shoes on the shiny black surface of the floor of Asami's office held his attention.

"Our relationship won't affect our work, Asami-sama." Kirishima mumbled like a scolded child.

"See that it doesn't. However, if it does….I don't want to hear about it." Asami the nice boss made an appearance, his eyes twinkling with merriment. No, that's pushing it. Let's just say he glared a little less. "So, should I get my tux out of moth balls?"

Suoh's feet, which had melted into the floor, finally moved towards Kirishima as he adjusted the piece hidden in his armpit again. "Well…you'll be the first to know, sir." He gave his lover (Asami almost choked on the word) a little wink and Kirishima turned bright red. Perhaps Kirishima popped a blood vessel in his face, that explained his other worldly glow.

Ugh…Kirishima was glowing.

Asami suddenly wished he was still hallucinating.

P-B-B

Akira, the man with only one name because he was awesome like that, tailed the young man with dark black hair (darker than black - as if no light escaped from his head) from a safe distance as he walked down a small street crammed with people and overflowing with shops. It was Saturday, a typical shopping day for hard-working people, and Akira, like the rest of humanity, worked so he seemed to blend right in.

But if one looked closely, he didn't blend in, couldn't blend in, nor wouldn't blend in, at least not in this universe.

Don't tell anyone what he did for a living, they'd never believe it. Heck, some days even he imagined he'd descended into hell and now butchered filets made of the flesh of sinners fit for consumption by demons and devils. The devil's own master, a man named Asami would see that flesh seasoned and roasted for his dining pleasure if anyone crossed him. And this man did.

Something so simple. One disgruntled former employee could have destroyed an empire. Akira understood conspiracies, blood baths and revenge killings. But this?

No doubt about it, David almost slew Goliath had fate not smiled on Asami on White Day.

No one noticed Akira or the two other men, let's call them X and Y for security purposes, flanking and then retreating as their Target walked with drive, on a mission, marching with the just and unjust alike in their quest for one moment of happiness.

The mission a simple one for the man with inky hair: deliver one box containing one strawberry birthday cake, emblazoned with the words Happy Birthday Moko-chan written in dark red frosting.

Akira kept an eye on the man, fisting his own well-worn black briefcase. It contained a canister of chloroform and sawdust, in case the Target tossed his cookies or cake or sushi, or whatever he'd eaten recently. He'd seen it happen and took precautions, as if chloroforming someone was typical of his duties. Actually, it was typical. As typical as filing, making a phone call or attending a meeting for the people who made their living in more ordinary ways.

The man with the jet black hair and fervent step (AKA the Target) turned a corner and Akira hoofed it across the street quickly, narrowly avoiding the wrinkled old woman with the black pram-like stroller as she charged at him like she owned the street. He dodged her, his feet hardly moving except for one little step to the left, and then back, his movements as graceful as a ballet dancer's sure steps. A quick glance in the stroller confirmed his suspicions. It contained no baby, only newspapers, their black print staining the white cotton blankets underneath.

X removed himself from the perch of a car's bumper, joining the throng of shoppers, his cigarette bobbing in his mouth as he advanced towards the Target. He glanced at his cell phone, and Akira knew X watched the live feed from the camera mounted from the top of the fire house Z, the tech guy, hacked into earlier. He watched the same feed as the Target headed towards Yakitori Alley, although the alley smelled like fish and not yakitori. Their Target was taking the short-cut home. Akira beamed, a creepy smile that made the young girl standing next to him move away grasping the hand of her nanny.

Target pulled out his cell phone and dialed quickly, his other hand jostling the cake which teetered in his hands before it leveled out.

Somewhere, a few blocks from here, Z played with a jumble of wires and gears that would make R2D2 envious. Z's voice whispered into Akira's ear piece, sounding so tinny and rushed as if someone might trace his call. Actually someone might.

"He's calling home saying he'll be a few minutes late." The voice faded and disconnected without further comment. The Target smiled while he talked, his delicate hands winding through his dark hair. The call Target made didn't last long as he turned quickly down the alley that reeked of fish and seem to disappear.

Except another man in the black suit caught up, it was Y. Y and X continued down the alley, talking quietly, as if old friends. At the end of the alley was the perfect spot to corner their Target. A blind alley. Don't ask him how alleys can see in the first place, and how you would blind one in the second place, but Akira new this neighborhood well enough that blind alleys saw more than their share of blood.

Akira pounced like a cat, startling the man with the blacker than black hair. This man wouldn't complete his mission, this man wouldn't see tomorrow.

"What do you want?" Their Target asked. The man's name wasn't important. Actually, Akira found his job easier to forgo names. Names meant humanity. Names meant someone loved him. Names meant home and family and parents.

X and Y caught up, seemingly dazed that Akira had vaulted the building, ran across the roof and ended up in front of them. Akira's agility could rival that of Spiderman's and he did it without spandex and fake webbing.

"Ecstasy." Akira, a simple man, said volumes with that word, at least from the man's surprised and terrified expression. What he meant with that one word was 'you poisoned the boss, now you'll pay.'

The man paled, dropped the cake with a plop and bolted down the alley in the direction he came. Too bad a black car blocked his escape. X grabbed the Target's upturned collar, jolting him backward and onto his butt pinning him with a knee to his chest. The man screamed, or at least tried to, but only soft sobs poured from his mouth.

Akira took the opportunity, as cheap and easy as it was and with chloroform in hand, the black-haired man crumpled at his feet. A few moments later, X and Y disappeared, with their Target safely stowed in the trunk of the car. Out of sight and for sure out of mind. Only the insane go after Asami Ryuuichi.

Akira opened the cake box, and with two fingers, dug in and sucked the red and white filling into his mouth, his eyes closing in pleasure.

Happy Birthday Moko-chan, your cake was delicious.