House of Cards - 2/5 (JE, Akame)

[lunacrescent]

Jin woke up with his face mashed into Yamapi's couch, drooling on the expensive upholstery, and unable to clearly recall how he got there. He thought he may have been in the backseat of a vehicle for a while-either that or he'd been briefly transported to some other lurching land of balled up food wrappers, stained paper cups, CDs, and other toss-it-in-the-back junk. Some crap playing on the radio had muddled whatever snatches of conversation he blearily caught. And then he'd passed out again, tired and just plain unwilling to deal with the world. He remembered Kame, might have recognized his voice, and could have chalked it up as a tamer than usual nightmare.

Despite the sleep he supposedly got, Jin felt worse than he had in the morning. Sunrise had seen him through with focused clarity. Now the sun was dipping below the skyline in a haze of burning orange fading into navy, and his entire head pretty much felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Giving his body's protests the finger he got up and staggered into the kitchen, fumbling the lights on as he went. Brightness flooded his vision white. Jin blinked and squinted through the assault, managing to find a glass and fill it with water without dire mishap. Draining the cold liquid sent a small shock through his system that made him painfully aware of the throb of his head, which was only the beginning of his sorry state. Heavy pounding from the neck up, shriveled emptiness in the gut. What had he eaten in the morning? Had he eaten in the morning?

"I am too old to live like this," Jin groused in disgust. He refilled his glass and opened the refrigerator. Stared blankly at the healthy stock inside. Fresh vegetables and other raw ingredients, not a leftover pizza in sight. Jin wasn't a total animal; he could cook and it wasn't awful, but at the moment he'd sooner gnaw on stalks of celery. Chewing was probably the pinnacle of effort he could currently manage.

He was saved from the celery when he found packets of instant miso in the pantry. "Knew it. Not even you can handle yogurt every morning. And who the hell has time to cook around here?" He tried not to think about cooking dinner with Raimu and tore into the packets with more violence than even starvation necessitated.

A couple servings were enough to make him feel full, at least for time being. He didn't fancy throwing up so he held off on anything more substantial, though part of him wouldn't have minded eating himself into oblivion. He wasn't sure how else he was going to survive the night while lucid.

Nothing on TV could distract him. His phone was on and charging but he hadn't checked his mail. He tried the liquor cabinet and found it newly locked. Then he found his picks were gone. "Kamenashi, you bastard!" Jin very nearly shoved over the entire thing, imagining the satisfying crash and tinkle of glass that would erupt within. He punched the wooden doors but all that did was make the bottles rattle and his fist hurt. With a snarl, he turned his back on the cabinet and slouched there on the floor, legs kicked out. The knife was missing as well, but that didn't bother him as much. It was just a knife. The lock picks-those were his like the fingers on his hands were his. He'd been fucking amputated.

Jin's head thumped against the wood panels, eyes closed. He could have still gotten in there if he really wanted; all it took was some paper clips, maybe a mutilated pen cap. Too much effort, though, he didn't care anymore. He didn't need his favorite vices, he was totally zen.

In the midst of his novice attempt at meditation he stuck a hand in his pocket, breaking the silence with a chuckle at what he encountered there. Still had his smokes. He lit up where he was sitting and got ash on Yamapi's polished floor, sparing a flippant prayer for no sprinkler to turn on over his head and no fire alarm to scream in his ear.

Now he was zen. Marginally. Close enough. At least the gods of the cancer stick smiled upon him, and he smoked in peace.

The gods of irony, on the other hand, spat in his face, jeered, and kicked him when he was down. All the time. Jin exhaled sweet addiction, and through the wisps of smoke saw the familiar backpack. It was definitely not empty. He knew better, but he still scooted forward until he was sitting cross-legged in front of it, and yanked the zipper open.

"Thanks, Kamenashi," Jin muttered with nicotine-laced sarcasm. "Make off with my blade, my picks, but leave me the money. Really considerate."

Stark white stood out against the muted colors of the stacks of bank notes. Jin snatched the ransom note up and whipped out his lighter vengefully. The corner of the paper blackened and curled, flames licking up its surface and eating away the joke of a message. The typeface words gradually disappeared. He had half a mind to do away with the cash, too, since it was clearly up to him what he did with it.

Jin hissed when the fire had enough of paper and jumped eagerly for his fingers. He dropped what was left of the note, smacking the flames out and doing heinous things to the floor. The really, really nice floor of Yamapi's really, really nice apartment. To Yamapi the ransom would have been a drop in the bucket. They could have asked for millions if the ransom had been intended for him.

Jin's mind went suddenly blank with realization. And then he examined in a rush: his reluctance to let Yamapi know about his screw-up, it masked what should have been obvious, that the ransom had clearly been addressed to Jin. He'd been called to get the note by name. Full name, and he hadn't even introduced himself properly to Mizuki. The amount demanded was approximately as much as he could scrounge together, given the one evening, and operating more or less legally.

"Could you be any more of an egoist?" Kame sneered at him in memory.

Cross-examination: the kidnappers might not have known Raimu's dad was loaded. Except for the shiny on his wrist Jin's look didn't scream billionaire. The name-maybe Raimu told them.

Redirect: bullshit.

New evidence, regulation be damned: Jin squeezed his eyes shut and saw the card. His card, the way the street sign lock picks were his, customized by his hands alone. His symbol and title, that gruesomely artful splash of blood-

"They know enough about us to leave juvenile taunts."

He broke what was left of his cigarette in half. Jin unfolded from his hunched position and climbed deliberately to his feet. He dipped down again briefly to retrieve a wad of cash from the collection and pocket it. His phone, fully charged, joined the money.

He went to the duffle bag that contained pretty much everything else he bothered to keep, not his entire life but three years' worth of something new and supposedly respectable. The sum of it probably spoke for itself. There were mostly clothes, which he pushed aside. A pair of battered sneakers; useless. A notebook bulging with loose pages, music sheets, and uninspired lyrics; he let it fall to the floor with a resounding smack, papers scattering. Finally, his digging hand closed around a Kydex sheath. Because of course he had more than one knife. The Recon Tanto was a seven-inch blade in tactical black, not quite as familiar in his hand as the Camillus Quickdraw Kame had lifted off him, but just as dependable. Unlike the smaller knife Jin had little choice but to carry the impressive Tanto IWB-tucked inside the waistband at about five o'clock, and the sheath was modified with a belt loop to ensure it would stay in place.

Feeling a bit more reassured now, though still sharply aware of the empty space in his left boot, Jin was as ready as he needed to be. He had some personal calls to make.

♥ || ♠

"Well, shit," Jin said to himself inside the elevator car. He pressed the B2 button again to make sure, but the results were the same as the first time. Nothing happened.

What should have happened was the car went down to the lower level. The level that was actually a totally empty lot because there was no ramp leading out of it, like the builders forgot to put it in and left the sub-basement as it was. There wasn't much down there; mostly rats, maybe the occasional person who wound up there accidentally while going to their car. Not many punk kids or homeless people since the sub-basement was only accessible by the elevator or stairs in the hotel.

The stairs were where Jin tried next. "Oh, come on." His feet scuffed across the cement floor at the bottom of the small stairwell, only to stop short in front of the cinderblock wall where a door used to be. He touched his palm to the rough, solid surface, and heaved a sigh.

Well, he'd known it might not still be there. A lot could happen in three and a half years.

Luckily there was Plan B. Jin wasn't too concerned yet as he returned aboveground and breezed out onto the streets, heading in the direction of Kabukicho.

♥ || ♠

Fantasy Girl was just the same as he remembered it, tucked in between buildings with lit-up signs advertising a plethora of schoolgirls. There was a girl standing at the entrance, too, somewhat mismatched in a nurse costume and chunky platform shoes. As soon as she noticed Jin looking she hustled forward to snag his arm, all smiles and compliments and glowing invitations to come inside for a few drink and some company.

He said that he was game. Then it was up the stairs, door on the left, and into a smoky, glam parlor of costumed girls and drunken salary men. Jin didn't bother seeking out a familiar face among the French maids and sailor-suited schoolgirls, not with the turnover rate in these places. What did surprise him was the thirty-something woman with an upswept, bleach-fried hairdo who greeted him with a smiling, bright red mouth. The Madam he recalled from before had been a crow of a woman, laugh lines crinkling when she cackled and more than a little eccentric, nothing like this obsequious replacement.

But this was otherwise the same bar. It was worth a shot. "Actually," Jin interrupted before the Madam could show him to a booth with a parade of hostesses. Her plastic-model grin made him cringe inwardly but he carried on. "I heard I could find someone special here. A girl like diamonds."

"Diamonds?" The woman's penciled eyebrows arched sharply.

"Uh, yeah." Jin stuffed his hands inside his pockets defensively. Stupid codeword. Shit, what if it had changed? He hadn't even thought of that.

But then she was smiling again, less manic and more sly. "Of course. Ai-chan will show you."

A girl sidled up to him decked out in a bunny suit of black satin, mesh pantyhose, and jaunty ears. "Follow the white rabbit," she invited, crooking a finger before presenting her fluffy cottontail and sashaying away.

She led him through a curtain towards the back, as expected. Here the halls were stripped of glamour, wallpaper faded and peeling at the edges, carpet threadbare under the endless trod of heels. A light-limned doorway at one end of the hallway was opened a crack to reveal mirrors and a rack of costumes for the girls. Other doors were closed, and it was one of these that Ai stopped in front of. She twisted the knob and ushered him into...

...the empty room. Well, there was a padded loveseat, a coffee table, a mini bar, and mood music seeping from a pair of speakers. There was Ai pressing up against him, the tips of her long ears wobbling in his face.

Not exactly what he'd been angling for, incidentally.

"Knock it off." He batted the ears away and she untangled from him to straighten her headband with an annoyed pout. "I'm not here for that kind of game."

Eying him now with wariness, the bunny girl minced several steps back on her stilettos. "Then you want another girl because I'm not into the real wacky stuff."

Jin rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the faint alarm bell that went ringing in his head. "I'll pass on that, too." He turned and wrenched the door open, making a sharp turn that brought him to an identical door. A similar set-up lay within. Next room upgraded to a queen-sized bed. He even checked the doorway with a green emergency exit sign overhead, just in case, but the only thing out there was a rusty fire escape. Jin finally stomped over to the last remaining door at the opposite end of the hall. It wasn't locked, and based on the established pattern all he expected was the deluxe platinum fuck room, which was exactly what he found.

It was also occupied. But Jin was barely fazed. "What happened to this place?" he demanded of no one in particular-certainly not the man with the aghast, but familiar face of a TV personality fumbling with his trousers, nor the two girls complaining loudly and making token efforts to cover themselves.

Large hands landed on Jin's shoulders and all but yanked him off his feet. He stumbled backwards and bounced off the wall, suddenly facing two men with mouths that seemed twisted in perpetual sneers. One of them chewed a toothpick; the other wore a pair of shades indoors. Both had the telltale licks and curls of intricate tattoos peeking out from the loose collars of their shirts.

"Wow." Jin blinked. "You know, I think I made a mistake."

Shades cracked his knuckles. "And I think you need some correcting."

Hands in the air in a universal placating gesture, Jin edged slowly towards the emergency exit. "Actually, I got it covered. I'll see myself out now."

Without waiting for a response he spun and charged down the hall, throwing the exit door open and clattering onto the steel grate platform. It creaked under his weight, then with the added weight of his pursuers. Jin shook his head. Yazuka in Fantasy Girl meant they must own the bar now or they wouldn't have dared to show their ugly mugs, let alone swagger around like that. The Tanto was still secured and hidden beneath his shirt, but it was a last resort. Jin wasn't about to start shit in some gang's territory.

"Come on, guys, no biggie-oops." Jin danced back from the section of railing that broke off when he tried to brace a hand on it. Toothpick careened after him and Jin leapt down the next flight of stairs to avoid being grabbed. His feet hit the platform, causing metal to groan and shudder, but the structure held. Hey, points for construction. He kicked the ladder at the end and it unfolded. Then it snapped off its hinges to clatter on the ground below. Points retracted. "Umm, okay then."

Jin swung over and climbed down the part of the ladder attached to the platform, lowering himself until he was dangling from the last rung and grinning sheepishly at the pair of faces scowling at him from above. "It's been fun, but ciao!" He dropped, almost lost his footing when he landed on the other piece of ladder, and then was sprinting out of the alley to get lost in the crowded street.

♥ || ♠

Three and a half years. It was a relatively small slice of his life, and a period where he deliberately moved away from Japan and all that had happened there. Jin hadn't expected to succeed so well.

Or rather, he hadn't expected everything to move away from him. He tried a handful of other possible locations, hangouts he remembered, but nothing seemed to remain. Just the usual oblivious pack of civilians concentrating intently on the cascade of pinballs in pachinko machines, belting out the latest chart-toppers and golden hits in karaoke rooms, moving in and around the stop-and-go flow in front of food stalls.

Jin angrily shoved ramen into his mouth and bitched aloud around a mouthful of noodles. "How hard can it possibly be to find a super secret organization? It's not even that secret anymore. And it's huge. Like-" He held his hands apart. Considered the amount of space between them. Widened them some more. "-Huge."

Twenty minutes later Jin was still slumped in his seat at the ramen stand, staring at his cup of sake and willing it to reveal the mysteries of life to him. Or at least help him remember one more place to try. He racked his brain for anything but his dead last option.

"Son of a bitch," Jin moaned. He tossed the drink back and reached for his phone. He was pretty sure no one had yet invented a way to murder via mobile, although his lack of knowledge about Yamapi's position in the organization had never worried him more.

He masochistically started entering the number digit by digit instead of hitting speed dial, drawing the process out. Five digits in someone sat down next to him and refilled his cup. Jin happily aborted the call, but it wouldn't do to let on so he hunched his shoulders and dragged his cup close suspiciously.

The man beside him looked to be middle-aged with a fairly unremarkable face, and he didn't quite meet Jin's eyes when he leaned over a tiny bit and said, "Nice work, giving Imagawa and Tojo the slip like that."

"Eh?"

"The fire escape. I'll have to keep that in mind."

Oh, that. Jin looked the stranger over again, noting the expensive but ill-fitting suit that was out of style even in his inexpert assessment. "I wouldn't recommend it. Dangerous, you know."

"Yeah, and so's getting knocked around by some yakuza brutes."

"That's true." Jin stared down into the clear liquid of his cup, waiting and wondering. The man ordered a bowl of tonkotsu ramen and didn't seem inclined to introduce himself, or say anything further. The minutes stretched out and the conversation withered into a period of silence. Jin grimaced a little but threw out a line to see what it would get him. "You... are a regular there or something?"

"Used to be, I guess. Not as much nowadays." He gave Jin another one of those shifty, almost-glances. "You too?"

"Well..." Jin hedged. He lowered his voice. "Thought I wouldn't need to anymore, but you know how it is." He hoped his grin would be construed as rueful and not pleased with the perfectly true, misleadingly contextualized statement.

Suit nodded and Jin's hopes lifted. "New ownership, new business. Not that the new perks aren't all bad, mind, but-" He was momentarily distracted by the steaming bowl placed in front of him, and Jin curbed his own impatience by sipping his sake. He might finally be getting somewhere. "Sorry," Suit said after slurping up some noodles. He fished around in a pocket and deposited something that clicked on the tabletop. "Here. There's a new club on Dogenzaka called Royal Flush, you can try your luck there. Take the back door and show this to whoever answers it."

Jin swept up the white poker chip with an excited grin. Very, very promising. "Thanks. I mean it, thanks."

"Don't mention it. And I mean that." Suit bent down over his bowl again, mumbling, "Maybe I'll see you around. Maybe not. Good luck."

♥ || ♠

The back entrance to Royal Flush was located in a typically sleazy alley, parked between a love hotel and pub. It was late-not that you could really tell in Shibuya, but Jin had taken the last train to get here and if he struck out again, well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Passing a couple on their way into Hotel Paris next door, Jin strolled up to the club's door and banged on it.

He expected to be confronted with a muscled bouncer of some sort, but the guy who opened the door with a, "Yeah, yeah, what?" was young, skinny, and he regarded Jin with casual disinterest.

Jin flashed the chip. The guy's look didn't change; he just opened the door wider to let him in. Then he sat down in a nearby folding chair and picked up a PSP to resume a game. "Up the stairs. Second door on the left, new guy," was all he said, kicking his feet up on an overturned crate.

Jin followed the insouciant instructions with a scowl and stung mutter of, "Who the hell's new? I'm a goddamn veteran compared to some punk-ass kid."

A heavy bass pounded from the subterranean club below but the sound and vibrations receded as he went up. He found the second door on the second floor and knocked. Waited. Heard the click of a lock being released and the door was pulled open, then closed and locked again behind him. That was normal, but the soft, ominous sound still made Jin uneasy.

He was inside what looked to be a VIP lounge, dimly lit along the walls save for a couple brighter overhead lamps. Instead of pleasant music and idle chatter, however, the atmosphere was quiet and tense. Over a dozen men and a few women were seated around three round tables, most of them holding a fan of cards. Some had folded out and watched the games proceed with avid interest. The piles of money in the center of each table were sizable, with more than a few ¥10,000 bills mixed in. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and ice clinked in numerous glasses.

"May I get you something to drink while you wait?" The voice belonged to the person who had opened the door-a woman, bronze-skinned and beautiful. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail and she was uniformed in white and black, resuming her position behind the bar's counter. The nameplate pinned to her vest identified her as 'Crystal'.

"Uh. Sure. I'll have a gin and tonic, extra lime." Jin slid onto a stool and battled a sudden onset of self-consciousness. This place was leagues above the little operation he remembered at Fantasy Girl. Digging for his cash, he also pulled out the plain white poker chip that had gotten him in.

"Your G&T, sir."

"One more thing." There was an unopened pack of cards on the counter. Jin swiped it and dumped the contents into his palm, shuffling through them with practiced ease. He selected the King of Hearts and slid it forward. "I'm looking for some friends of mine."

Crystal glanced down at the face card but didn't show any signs of recognition. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can help you."

This was the right place. Had to be. Jin peeled off a few more cards. Ace of Spades, Queen of Spades, Jack of Clubs, Joker.

Still nothing from Crystal.

"Come on," Jin coaxed. "A King needs a Court, you know?"

Crystal's gaze remained lowered-not at the cards, Jin realized, but at the poker chip beneath his tapping finger. When she met his eyes her expression was blank and closed off. "Sorry, no idea."

Enough beating around the bush, Jin was at his limit for subtle games. "Look, it's really, really important. They'll vouch for me. Do you need names, is that-" He suddenly lunged across the bar and grabbed her wrist as it slipped beneath the counter to call security. Bad, bad, bad position to be in. "Um. Sorry. But I gotta talk to these guys."

Crystal glared at him. Her fingers scrabbled at his, trying to break his hold but he had strength on his side.

Then Jin yelped, instantly letting go when she expertly pinched the nerves in his wrist. He heard a door being thrown open from the back. "Seriously? I'm not trying to cause trouble here! I just-"

A hand fisted in his hair. Jin braced himself for an unfriendly collision of nose-meet-bar but instead the grip only tugged-hard-to jerk his head back and threaten his balance. A sidelong glance confirmed all he needed to know and Jin's eyes narrowed. "Kamenashi Liarface Kazuya, you have no idea all the shit I've gone through tonight-"

Kame ignored him and slapped a black chip on the countertop. "This moron was never here."

Crystal took one look at the chip and nodded, no questions asked.

"What?" Jin gaped as Kame yanked on his hair to get him up and moving. "You mean I just had the secret color code wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?" He was alternately pulled and shoved through the door in the back, all but shrieking in frustration. "Quit it with the hair already! What is this, a schoolgirl catfight? And me without my nails done."

Kame pushed him inside a tiny elevator and jabbed the close-doors button. He propped on hand on his hip and pressed the other against his head as if it ached. "I should have let you get tossed out."

Jin rubbed his scalp which did ache quite a bit, spitting out, "I'd have found a way in, it's my goddamn specialty. Speaking of which, I want my picks back, you klepto."

Kame hit the button for the basement level. "You don't need them. What part of 'get lost' don't you understand? Is it the 'get' or the 'lost'?"

"I think it's the part where Raimu-chan gets kidnapped on my watch and my card gets thrown in my face."

"I already told you-"

"Bull. Shit." The basement level light above the door lit up and a thrum of trance music could be heard through the walls. The elevator kept descending where there was no other floor indicator. "Did you identify the blood?"

Kame turned to meet his stare for the first time since he showed up. He had his leader face on, the Court Ace of Spades first and Kamenashi Kazuya second. Maybe even third depending on whether he was in cover mode or not. He probably was; months into a mission there was no way Kame wasn't deep into a thorough investigation. Something about that struck Jin as odd, something weird and atypical concerning Kame's presence, but three years wasn't a negligible gap and Jin had never been the most reasonable when it came to Kame's work. Kame's cool dismissal was in a way familiar, and yeah, there was that old, well-known resentment itching fierce under Jin's skin. "Not yet. And don't get the wrong idea; you're only here because you're less likely to ruin everything if we keep an eye on you."

"Hey, fuck you and the horse you rode in on," Jin snapped. "I don't want to be here either, believe me. It's just that as much as I hate this place, I hate being messed with more. And that includes you for trying to hide it."

The glare Kame shot him was completely black. Jin didn't know what nerve he'd struck-he usually didn't-but fair was fair. He owed Kame a punch, too, but then the elevator finally rolled to a halt. They had to be several stories below the surface.

"Good old Batcave," Jin mock-enthused as the doors slid open to reveal a contrastingly bright hallway. It must be a new complex since they were nowhere near the old one, and just how many sprawling underground facilities could there be beneath Tokyo? The layout was obviously different so he had no choice but to follow Kame's brisk footsteps.

♥ || ♠

CARD. Critical Action Required Division.

"Division of what?" everybody asked at least once, but if there was an answer it wasn't forthcoming.

They weren't cops-far from it, they were pretty much a team of criminals themselves with sins ranging from petty theft to murder. A secretive organization that nonetheless used its powers for good, so to speak. Allies of justice. Crime-hunting vigilantes. The modern ninja. However you wanted to put it, they were a bunch of hypocrites who got results. Where law enforcement failed, CARD succeeded, whether it was merely dragging skeletons out of closets and providing evidence, or taking a more... direct approach. No one was untouchable. That was the only real rule, and the deeper you went into the organization the more you realized it applied to you first and foremost.

The head of the organization was known only as the Dealer. His or her public identity was subject to copious speculation and rumor, most accepting as fact that the person was a) exorbitantly wealthy, and b) fanatically obsessed with a playing card theme.

"Is it just me or is this place bigger than the last one?" Jin was shit at memorizing layouts but he did have a pretty good (or just plain lucky) sense of direction. He'd probably find the elevator again by stumbling across it.

Kame's shoulders lifted in a shrug and he didn't bother facing Jin to say, "We've gotten along fine since you left."

Jesus. Jin grit his teeth. He'd always known Kame could hold a grudge but he'd never flaunted one like this before. But of course Kame could turn anything and everything into a weapon. Maybe they could talk it out and get it over with. Clear the air so Jin could think and not get blindsided by rage every time Kame took a shot. But all that came out of Jin's mouth was, "Real nice. Did Ueda teach you how to snipe like that?"

Without missing a beat Kame raised his curled fist, making Jin skip a step to fall out of range, but all he did was hold it there. "He taught me this, too."

"That reminds me, I owe you a concussion."

"You were not concussed, your head's too thick to take any damage."

"Excuse me!" Jin pushed his hair out of the way to show the bruise even though Kame wasn't looking.

"Well, if you want to get it looked at you could visit the doctor." Kame's brief glance gave away nothing but Jin was instantly on guard.

"We have an in-house doc now?"

"Old friend of yours."

Jin's eyes narrowed. He was nearly certain any of his friends would be a disaster of a doctor. Maybe Yamapi, but Yamapi had some other hush-hush job. That guy, Shige? No, he'd been into law so he'd know the ins and outs of all the felonies they were committing. Jin waited, but Kame said nothing more. "Oh, come on!"

"If you want to find out all you need to do is get yourself shot or stabbed. And you're in luck, because some of these guys might be willing to indulge you."

They stopped in front of a door. There was a plaque beside it with a series of white numbers on black background, but no name. Jin could guess, though.

He stepped inside and made an initial sweep of the room, focusing first on Ueda, largely due to the fact he was seated at a table covered in various disassembled guns. The Queen of Spades flicked his gaze up in acknowledgement, and then went back to serenely swabbing a rifle receiver with a Q-tip. Sitting adjacent to Ueda and leaving ample room to not get in the way of the barrel was an unknown, nerdy-looking man typing away on a laptop. There didn't appear to be any violence forthcoming from that quarter.

The center of the room featured a coffee table surrounded by an L-shaped couch and matching armchair. Koki and Taguchi sprawled on the couch, the former with his face covered by a magazine and head bobbing slightly to an unheard tune, the latter immersed in a handheld video game with his leg stretched out in a cast. Both of them ignored the TV mounted on the wall, which was currently displaying a Fanta commercial on mute. Below it were a couple game consoles and a rack of DVDs. Off to the side there was even a tiny kitchenette featuring a microwave, coffeemaker, and mini fridge.

"You've got to be kidding me." Jin stood and gaped at what had to be the Court Suite. Previously it had consisted of little more than a table surrounded by folding chairs, a water cooler, and a whiteboard that featured a faded but obvious depiction of an erect penis in the corner thanks to someone's permanent purple marker.

At the sound of Jin's voice Koki slid the magazine off his face and sat up, removing his earbuds and grinning a shark's grin. "Well, well. Long time no see, Red."

"Shut up, Baldy," Jin shot back on automatic despite the fact that Koki's hair had grown shaggy and dark since last they'd seen each other.

"I think you're in the wrong place," the Court Joker continued, teeth still bared. "Didn't you read the door? This is the Black Suite."

"Clubs and Spades only," Taguchi added in an altogether too chipper tone, bordering on mania. The Jack of Clubs always sounded like that when caught in the middle of a game.

Koki was still getting warmed up. "Maybe those nutjobs in Osaka will take you and your girly Heart. Us, we got no vacancies. Our Court doesn't need two Kings."

Jin swiveled his head to stare at the new guy who tried to hide behind his computer screen. Then he glared back at everyone else who dared to meet his eyes. "What the fuck, you guys. Can we be mature here?"

Kame snorted from behind him. He shoved at the back of Jin's head as he came forward. Again with the bullying! "Even though it's Akanishi, he has a point. Partly since we're going to be babysitting him for time being, and mainly to get up to date ourselves, let's review what we know. Nakamaru?"

"Yes," said the guy behind the laptop, straightening up. "Ah, and I'm Nakamaru Yuichi, King of Clubs in charge of security... and occasionally breaching security."

"He's like an electronic, updated version of you," Koki pointed out.

Jin gave Koki the finger. "Whatever, the clown thinks he's funny. Fill me in on the mission."

"Right." Long fingers tapped a few keys, and then Nakamaru turned the screen around. "We're dealing with a diverse human trafficking network. Women and children coming in mostly from Southeast Asia, some from Latin America and the U.S. The cops are treating them like individual incidents but they're only seeing a potion of the bigger picture. The depressing truth is we haven't learned much more aside from determining the connection. It was the cards that tipped us off."

Several image files had been opened, each one showing a playing card. Random, like Kame said, not limited to just the face cards.

"They're organized and cocky. Hopefully too cocky. Their decision to snatch Yamashita Raimu is something of a wild card. Yamapi has agreed to keep it quiet for now so we'll have more freedom to move, but the moment word gets out things will get volatile."

"The moment he sees my face things will get volatile," Jin corrected with a sinking feeling of doom.

"He's been improving his score at the firing range recently," Ueda deigned to comment while skillfully reassembling a Colt 1911.

"Goodie for him." Jin surveyed at the cards once more, one of a million worries niggling at the back of his mind. The King of Hearts hadn't been added to the collection yet, and none of the ones pictured were bloodstained. "So Raimu-chan was specifically targeted?"

"Well..."

"You're already convinced she was." Kame had his arms crossed, pinning Jin with an intense stare. "Why bother asking?"

"Fine," Jin said tersely, nerves frayed and snapping one by one. "What do you think?"

Kame shrugged. "I agree."

"Well, I-" The huffing tirade Jin had stored up deflated all at once. "Eh?"

Kame made a show of rolling his eyes and sighing extravagantly. "As usual, you only focus on yourself. Did you ever wonder why I was at the site in the first place?"

"I don't know anything about our sources unless they're-ohhh. Gotcha. You could have said something," Jin grumbled. He'd realized already on some level: Kame. Undercover. Right. In that position Kame might've even known about it before it happened, and as soon as the stray thought wandered by Jin's mouth started running away with it. "Shit, you knew. You could have prevented-don't tell me..." The weight of the implication sunk in and left Jin too horrified to finish speaking. Surely, not even for the sake of the mission...?

"What?" Kame challenged, livid and ice-laden. "You're wondering if I was going to use a five-year-old girl as bait?"

Jin flinched, gripping the edge of the table so as to not crawl under it. He may as well have taken one of Ueda's pistols and shot himself in the foot. "No, I mean-sorry."

Kame's gaze dropped him like he wasn't even worth the effort to look at. Every line of his body was taut and strained. "I heard about it too late. They're secretive bastards. I haven't found anything yet to nail the whole operation, just a tip here and there to round up the small-time thugs, save a couple people at a time."

"I know," Jin said in a small, miserable voice. "I know you wouldn't have... I'm sorry."

Kame paused for the smallest of seconds, but the apology was a letter unopened, maybe even thrown away in the trash. Ueda's guns were all assembled now and Kame hopped up to perch on the corner of the cleared table, tension draining from his frame as he began to casually kick his legs. But his tone was all business. "So as I was saying. While it's no surprise word has gotten out about CARD, I'm a bit concerned that specific individuals are being targeted. That's not easy information to come by."

"'No one's untouchable'," Ueda recited. He sighted through the scope of a rifle and aimed. Kame stared down the barrel with a smile full of gallows humor.

"A leak, huh?" Koki crossed his arms behind his head and frowned thoughtfully for a moment, absorbing the possibility. Then with no visible trace of alarm he merely shrugged. "Guess it's kind of inevitable when you think about it."

Jin went cold, downright arctic at the thought of a traitor, suddenly afraid to breathe like it might draw attention. He knew these guys could smell fear. One by one, he looked at each Court member. Indifferent and accepting, all of them, of the possibility they'd have to hunt a comrade. Maybe someone they knew, had trained with, and trusted. When Jin's gaze landed on Kame, the other man narrowed his eyes, daring him to speak aloud what was clawing its way to the front of his mind. He'd jump on whatever pathetic thing came out of Jin's mouth. A roiling sick sensation welled up in Jin's gut, old and familiar, and he choked down the surge of memories.

"Search and destroy," Taguchi spoke up in an affected robotic voice, as ignorant as ever to an atmosphere. Still parked on the couch, he was too far away to kick, injured leg or no.

"Eh," Koki said, waving the matter aside. "Plugging leaks sounds like plumber's work. We're the big game hunters."

"Speak for yourself," Nakamaru groaned, turning the laptop back to face him and clicking windows closed. "I'm up to my neck in personnel investigations."

"Yeah," Kame said with a sharp little grin that teased and could hurt only as much as you wanted it to. "Exactly what Koki said: plumber's work."

Nakamaru sighed in long-suffering exasperation. "Oh, screw you assholes."

Jin couldn't have put it better himself.

♥ || ♠

He didn't last another fifteen minutes. The interaction, the banter, it passed over his head. Intentional, for the most part, but at the same time... "Our Court doesn't need two Kings." They called themselves the Black Court now.

"It rolls off the tongue better," Ueda admitted. Finished with the guns he'd started sharpening his knives.

Fine. Jin bit back his comments. I don't want in on your sick little circle-jerk club anyway. Fucking crazy bastards. This entire shithole organization.

They switched back to the topic of the kidnapping ring, but even then Jin barely paid attention. He regretted leaving Yamapi's apartment, reminding himself that he walked here on his own two feet. Had deliberately sought them out. He'd thought... what, exactly? Why turn to CARD?

Because Kame had shown up. And Kame led back to CARD. Easy enough to blame. Kame led back to lots of things; the rush and skid of a chase through back alley mazes, the threat and promise of teeth in the midst of a kiss, the sweat and blood slick of gunmetal warm in his hands. And this deep-seated loathing that turned Jin's stomach.

And Kame wouldn't let him brood by himself. It was like he was attuned to the signal of Jin's misery meter and he couldn't resist cranking it up another notch.

"Akanishi." Only Kame could whip-crack a name like that. "If you can't pay attention, take your moping elsewhere. We're busy."

"You're not the boss of me." Although Jin would have loved to excuse himself, bowing to an order was something he just would not do.

He couldn't keep track of what Kame said next, or what he said in return as part of blinding reflex. Something hummed in the background, and he took it for his own tenuous grip on sanity before a beeping noise interrupted and a buttery scent wafted from the open microwave.

"Popcorn?" Koki snacked on the greasy kernels and offered the bag out. Taguchi stretched to reach it.

"You know what?" Jin finally said, glaring at them all before zeroing in on the only one that mattered. "No, I can't handle it. And yes, I do know my limits. You know them, too, Kamenashi. You fucking know."

He slammed the door behind him as he walked out just to hear it rattle. He would have kicked something over but the hall was clear and immaculately clean. Rote duties like cleaning always fell on the newest recruits, although Jin wondered if CARD was fancy enough now to hire a cleaning crew. Super secret cleaning crew. What would their title be? Elites were Court (Black or Red or Rainbow, what the fuck ever), general support were Dimes, trainees were Deuces...

Jin kicked the wall, dragged the sole of his boot over the pristine paint to leave a smudgy smear of street grime. For a moment he was intensely offended by the whiteness of the walls. Hospitals were allowed to be white. Churches were allowed to be white. Even prisons were better suited for white than this place, buried deep underground where some of Japan's most undesirables ran amok and did what they did best-ruining lives, everyone else's and their own.

A door burst open and a scramble of kids poured out, sweaty and noisy as they elbowed each other in a race to the showers. Deuces from the looks of them; young for one thing, though technically new recruits could come from all walks of life, their expressions (bright and feeling fortunate probably for the first time in their lives) were the most indicative of newbie status. Dimes were a little more aware of the future, a little more ambitious with understanding, particularly those who were sectioned off into their own subgroups.

The kids froze when they saw Jin, bumping into each other and jostling with their elbows, giving sidelong looks. A rude pack of brats who didn't even duck their heads in greeting before they scuttled off. Their receding whispers and hushed laughter pulled on Jin like a physical thing, a line stretching until it was so thin and tenuous he didn't even notice when it snapped.

He peeked into the room they had vacated. After the surprise of the new and improved Black Suite the sight of a well-kept gym only made him widen his eyes, grudgingly impressed with the high ceiling and polished basketball court. There was a connecting door to the side labeled, "WEIGHTS."

The kids hadn't cleaned up after themselves and would probably catch some hell from a senior later. There were no stands, but the sidelines were littered with thrown-off jackets, bottles of water, snack wrappers, and even someone's shoes.

Jin wandered onto the court and picked up the lone basketball resting there. Dribbled it a couple times just to hear the loud smack echo and fill the cavern. He made a halfhearted attempt to throw the ball and it bounced off the rim, but rather than careen off to the side it came back to his hands. He didn't know what to do with it after that.

♥ || ♠

Kame propped his elbows upon the railing and rubbed his hands over his face, through his hair, and then let his head hang, slumped near the ledge of a rooftop. The neon sign for Royal Flush added a pink tint to his skin. The club remained open all night, as did the card hall. Both places were clean, in spite or maybe because of what they covered. Well, the gambling was certainly illegal, but CARD didn't make a profit from it and cheating wasn't tolerated. No membership fee, no questions, just high stakes, skill, and luck. The bored elite of society loved it, and it was always good to have friends in high places. Information and favors were better earned with loyalty than with threats.

"Well, then," Kame said to himself, turning around to lean back on the railing as he tapped a cigarette out of a pack. The tiny flame of his lighter was a candle against Shibuya's sea of electronic lights. "What to do..."

He shouldn't even be showing his face, not at the club, no matter what time it was. But fuck it, he'd compromised his position the moment he went to the exchange site. There was just no way he could have let Yamapi's daughter get involved, and getting her out would have been worth botching months of work. But he'd been too late, and things had taken an unexpected turn. Jin had a way of warping situations just by existing, like his presence itself was a wrench thrown into the machinations of the universe. Kame's universe, anyway.

"Should have let you get thrown out," he mumbled around his cigarette. "Dumbass." Kame tipped his head back but there wasn't anything to see up above. Just wisps of smoke, then darkness.

Jin was predictable in a way. Kame knew he'd arrive at the club eventually, would find it if he had to search all of Tokyo by foot. Kame thought maybe by then he'd have figured out what to do. He hadn't.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered it immediately after glancing at the display. "What have you got for me?"

"You're not going to like this." Kusano kept his voice low, tone worried and rushed. He was probably still in the lab.

"Tell me something I don't know, like who's the donor of that sample."

"Right. Well. I triple checked the results to make sure, and it belongs to..."

Kame's cigarette fell from his fingers, scattering ashes and embers as it dropped. His other hand clutched his phone in a white-knuckled grip. "What did you say?"

The door to the rooftop banged open and Jin stood there, recoiling a little once he saw Kame. All the barbs must have done their job if Jin's first reaction was to run away, and Kame wrapped the crushed part of him inside with layers of grim satisfaction and disbelief at the man's lousy timing.

"I can't believe it myself," Kusano said into Kame's ear, "but it's definitely Jin's."

Kame let his anger show. He didn't have any idea who he was angry at and it didn't matter, as long as it was written all over his face and Jin could see it and reach his own conclusions. WHY? he screamed inside his head but all he said aloud was, "Thanks, that'll be all." He managed to end the call without hurling his phone at the ground.

Jin stayed on the roof, kicking the door shut behind him. Kame practically vibrated with everything trying to burst out of him; if he touched the rail now it might shake. For a flash he contemplated jumping over it and scaling down the front of the building. Anything to avoid dealing with Jin. There were some regrets he just couldn't live with.

"Who was that?" Jin asked with that look he got when he'd decided to dig his heels in, come hell or high water.

Inevitability weighed down on Kame's shoulders. He'd known that pushing too hard would come to this, but at the time he'd seen no other way. Jin had a strong sense of self-preservation, and Kame knew where keep poking with the sharp stick, but after a while the pain went numb and there was nothing Kame could do except wait and see which way Jin turned. "No one that concerns you," Kame said in clipped speech, gauging the distance between them and their positions. Jin wasn't going to stand being ignored. They might come to blows.

"Was that the lab?" Jin guessed with awful accuracy. The suspicion in his eyes was heightened by fear.

Kame banked on partial truth. "The blood doesn't belong to Raimu-chan. It's human, but maybe just for show." It showed something all right. And finally a semblance of a plan snapped together in his head. A shoddy plan at best, risky as all hell, but he could improvise as he went. Throwing a few punches with Jin might not be too bad a start.

"Shit." Jin glanced away, relieved but disheartened at the same time. "I guess they wouldn't make it easy, huh."

"Oh? You were under the impression this was going to be easy?" Poke, poke with the stick. Right there at the tender spot. "Did you change your mind these last couple years? Shoot anyone you know recently?" He couldn't look Jin in the eye and say that. Kame focused over Jin's shoulder instead. It was dark enough for him to get away with it, and Jin was reeling so much he wouldn't have noticed the avoidance in broad daylight anyway.

"Kamenashi, you ungrateful-" Jin seethed, betrayed. Kame could practically see smoke rising as pure anger cauterized the raw wounds. He could only think of it as a good thing; feeling anything else would cost too much. Jin's throat worked around a tangled, choking mess of outrage until he finally snarled, "Fine. Pardon me. My fucking fault for thinking you were worth it."

Kame nodded, a single, curt motion, but that was all right. "Good. Then we're even." He had one more Ace up his sleeve. Reaching inside his jacket he withdrew Jin's prized lock picks. Dangled them for show. "Guess you won't need these anymore."

Jin rushed him but he had too much distance to cross. All Kame had to do was flick his wrist, and he thought he heard the delicate, fragile pings of thin metal striking the club's sign as they fell down. It was fucking poetic.

The curled fist burying in his gut, though, that just plain hurt. Kame bent over with a gasp, eyes screwed shut as he mentally swore, damnit, Jin, I need it to be a little more visible then that. He grabbed at Jin's hoodie to steady himself, but he didn't have to intentionally slow his reaction; Jin was already twisting one of his lapels in his hand-geez, and I liked this jacket-and he was hissing, "Payback's a bitch."

There it was; a solid connection to his jaw. For a brief instant Kame saw stars that couldn't be found in the sky. Jin hadn't pulled his punch at all. Good. Okay, good. Kame licked the blood that broke through the skin of his lip and dazedly contemplated. Maybe a shiner to go with it?

But Jin released him with a shove. Kame's back hit the railing and he sprawled against it, glowering at Jin from under the fringe of his bangs. He taunted, "What, that's all you got?"

Jin turned away quickly. "Yeah," he said, and there was no mistaking the thickness of his voice. "It's not-forget it. Just fucking forget it."

Kame bit back a groan. He straightened up, never mind the details then, efficiency meant stripping things down anyway, and stalked forward silently. Jin sensed him in time to tense up before Kame placed a hand on his shoulder, spun him a bit, and then struck.

"Go to sleep for a bit," Kame said, sounding tired himself, and he caught Jin's weight as his eyes rolled up and his body went slack. He noticed without meaning to, both now and the other time, that Jin felt lighter. He might've looked thinner too if he didn't insist on swimming in those huge hoodies. Loss of muscle, Kame reasoned, because he couldn't imagine Jin eating less.

"Why couldn't you stay in America?" he grumbled, attempting to navigate the stairs without breaking either of their necks. "Eating all of that greasy American food, going clubbing with your friends, your girlfriend, kids... I thought you'd have kids by now. You're almost thirty. You aren't going to stay this good-looking forever, moron."

It was only one level down to reach the elevator. Kame ceased his one-sided conversation and let Jin slide to the floor, fixing his gaze on the camera he knew was in the corner. Unlike the other elevator by the side entrance, this one was accessible to the public and needed additional security measures to get below. "Hey," he said to whoever was on duty. "I need to drop this dumbass off at the infirmary." After a beat the car began to descend.

Kame knelt down and rubbed his thumb along Jin's cheek, erasing the telltale moisture with a touch that lingered more than it should have. "Sorry," he allowed himself to say, safe with unconsciousness as a barrier. Even so, there was a small chance Jin would hear it and never remember when he woke up. That would have to be good enough. Just good enough to live with.

Part 3