[One-shot] There's nothing left to bleed
Title: There's nothing left to bleed
Author: crazy_otaku911
Groups/Pairings: Kis-My-Ft2 (with Takki + small appearance of Sanada) - Gen, (but there are shimmering little delusional sniffs of K/F, S/2, and M/T... and if you really want, Y/I ;| )
Rating: R
Summary: AU - When Fujigaya goes missing while on a solo run, Kitayama and the rest of his team will stop at nothing to make sure they find him, the path bloody and stained in their wake.
Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction.
Warnings: Guns, violence, blood, language, killing.
A/N: Beta'd by omoikkiri ♥, many thanks~! Written... well, to coincide with Debut Day-ish, but is not nearly as cheerful as a debut celebration fic should be, so... it's not really. All the same, Congratulations, Kisumai!!! ♥ The journey has been awesome. [Written while having One Ok Rock's 'Liar' (line taken to make the title) and Yara w/ THEY Budou's 'Ichiya no Yume' on repeat. Lyrically has nothing to do with it, but musically, it might help set the tone?]
They’d said the mission would be complicated, but his expertise in field-work made him perfect for it, and that’s why they’d needed him. It had been flattering, even if he wasn’t used to working solo anymore. But his superiors had approved the request from the department and Fujigaya was barely able to let his command unit leader know before they’d swept him off to brief him on the assignment. It was complicated, but simple at the same time. They needed him to retrieve something for them, something hidden and buried deep.
It should have been easy for a veteran like him, but things were never easy.
They got him before he even realized what was happening.
~
“No, General,” Kitayama’s voice was flat and sinister as he rested his palms on the desk, leaning over to make his point very clear. “That is not acceptable. My man has been silent for two weeks and nobody can tell me a damned thing about what he’s doing.”
The man hemmed and hawed. He was a desk-man, the type Kitayama despised. Men who thought they knew everything, could do anything, but who never even saw the battlefield. Soft men. “The mission is classified; it was cleared before it even reached our division.”
“Let me make this as clear as possible,” Kitayama tried again, pulling out his handgun and flicking the safety off casually. “I am going to find out where my man is. And if you screw around or get in my way, I am going to blow your brains out and then blow the brains out of everyone else in this damned office.”
“Are you threatening me?” The man’s eyes were wide, and his voice came out as a broken squeal. Weak men, Kitayama hated weak men, and it would only take a little more before the cold metal of a gun barrel shut the man up. He gently rested it against the man’s forehead, feeling him stiffen against the cold steel.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he whispered, before pulling back. “Keep out of my way or I will shoot you. And the first time won’t kill you either.” With that, he exited the office.
Yokoo Wataru, his executive officer, was waiting outside the door, arms crossed, wearing a long-suffering expression. “You had to pull a gun?” he asked, falling into step with Kitayama.
“Of course~.” And Kitayama’s smile was wolfish. “Now he won’t get in my way. Besides, c’mon, it’s not like you want that as your superior officer either.”
“The files really are classified,” Yokoo continued, blithely ignoring him. “Miyata pulled the files and they’re so classified, we’re not even sure who actually requested Fujigaya.”
Kitayama’s stride was relaxed, but a glance told Yokoo that his commander was in a foul mood. While they’d never been told when Fujigaya was to return, it was one of Kitayama’s rules to report back every five days. It had been nearly fifteen with no word from Fujigaya and while their unit didn’t always adhere to military rule, they did follow Kitayama’s rules. Something had gone wrong and nobody was telling them anything.
“This is why you need to get yourself promoted,” Yokoo hummed in distraction. “Then you’d really be able to throw your weight around properly.”
“Who needs the rank,” Kitayama scoffed, stopping in the hallway and jabbing a finger back at the office they’d just left. “What is he doing with that rank? If someone had pulled a gun on me, one of you would have had him down and hurting five steps out of the door. What happened? Nothing.” Kitayama’s eyes were dark. “Rank only matters to the idiots who let it matter.”
Yokoo watched as Kitayama headed back to their small base of affairs. “Gather the rest, we meet in an hour. Nika and Senga will be at the shooting range. Miyata and Tamamori will be at their place. And I,” Kitayama said, throwing a smile over his shoulder, “will be sleeping until you guys get your asses there.”
Yokoo just chuckled softly, waving him on. They’d be there, of course. One of their own was missing and that sat well with no one.
~
Everything ached when Fujigaya came to, pulsing and throbbing in a way that had him retching helplessly as his head spun.
It was dark, he realized, and it wasn’t a blindfold. The room itself -wherever the hell it was - was pitch black.
He should have known something was wrong, should have realized before the prick of the needle, but things had happened faster than even he could react. Everything had gone black, and then he’d woken up in the dark.
They hadn’t been truthful about the real intent of this mission.
“Tell us what you know,” a disembodied voice surrounded him, coming from all sides, making him flinch for a moment before stilling completely, barely breathing. “Tell us what you know about the Genesis Project.”
~
The team’s briefing room was not formal by any standards. There were no tables or chairs, just the projector screen on one end, the projector and computers on the other. The middle was taken up by a battered and well broken in couch, and to allow others seating, there were bean bags tossed around the remaining floor space.
Kitayama sprawled over the couch, his self-elected throne, while the rest seated themselves on bean bags - except Yokoo, who preferred to stand when discussing things.
“So we’re going to break in and find out where they sent him?” Senga, youngest on the team but no less seasoned than the rest, was perched near Kitayama, expectant. He was close to Fujigaya, and the lack of contact left him jittered.
“Yes and no,” Kitayama replied, regarding them all for a moment. “First we go higher up and see if they’ll talk. Then we break in and find out where they sent him.”
Nikaido, second youngest and resident hot-head, was already poised for a fight, but when was he not? Nikaido had come to Kitayama’s team after breaking his commanding officer’s nose. “Can we bomb it?”
“No,” Yokoo interjected, shooting Nikaido a look. “We’re not blowing up anything.”
“Unless we have to,” Kitayama and Nikaido reasoned in the same voice. Kitayama grinned for a moment before continuing.
“We’ll take whatever measures we have to, but there are still some other options. It is truly tempting to just go in guns blazing, but he’s been silent for too long. This means he might be deep and that means we might have to pull a lot of strings to get to him.”
Tamamori finally spoke up, having been silent in his own corner, contented to listen for the most part. But everyone knew he was listening to more than just the conversation at hand through the little earpiece in his left ear. “Bird-san says we’ve scared the nest.”
“That’s what happens when you pull a gun on the General,” Yokoo grumbled, but everyone else crowed at the news.
“Old maggot-face?” Nikaido high-fived Senga before turning to Kitayama. “Did he squeal?”
“He nearly fainted,” Kitayama said, smirking. “Swear he pissed his pants.”
“Such is Leader.” Miyata laughed, eyes sparkling. He was the last member of their team and while he sometimes looked like goody-goody two-shoes and acted like he was a gentle pacifist, he was terrifying when set off. “What do you want us to do then?”
“Load up and be ready. I’ve got a man to talk to, but when we need to move out, I want you to be ready.”
Kyon was their armored and severely suped-up van. It’d been christened by Senga when the team was first formed, and Yokoo treated it like his favorite child. Nobody was allowed to eat inside Kyon and heaven help the unlucky man who got blood on the upholstery.
“Roger~!” they all chorused, and Kitayama nodded in approval. They were a motley crew, but they were fierce and he was proud of them.
“Move out.”
~
There was blood on the walls. Fujigaya didn’t know whose blood it was, but he was mostly sure it wasn’t his. He kept on seeing corpses out of the corners of his eyes, but every time he turned his head, there was nothing but the eternal black.
There had been the prick of another needle, but he hadn’t felt anyone near him.
“Tell us about the Genesis Project.”
This time the needle was a knife and Fujigaya choked as pain ripped through him, acid rising in his throat.
~
Miyata plopped the laptop onto Kitayama. “Tono’s calling.”
“I do wish you’d stop calling me that,” General Takizawa called out, but Miyata was already gone, leaving the briefing room empty except for Kitayama and the General on the screen.
“To what do I owe this honor?” Kitayama inquired, blinking one sleep-filled eye open. Takizawa Hideaki was a General, though he sadly wasn’t their directly superior officer. Takizawa was one of the few superior officers in their division that Kitayama was convinced actually had a pair of balls, and that earned him quite a bit of respect from the entire team. He was a man who led with guts (and a smidgen of insanity) and thus the team would follow him.
“I heard you’re causing a fuss. Ruffled quite a few feathers, huh?”
“I didn’t even fire my gun~.”
Takizawa tsked gently before locking gazes with Kitayama. “You’re sure he’s missing?”
“I’m sure,” Kitayama replied, the sleepy façade gone, eyes ice cold. “My men report every five days, no matter where they are. Fujigaya knows how to get in touch with us, even when he’s behind enemy lines. I need to find him, General.”
Takizawa paused for a moment, considering it. “I just need you to be sure, Kitayama. I’m willing to help you, but it will take digging where I’m not allowed to dig. I’m willing to risk my neck for him, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” Kitayama repeated. “This isn’t like Fujigaya. It’s been nearly fifteen days since he left on this stupid little classified mission and it’s been dead air since then. That’s not normal and it’s been too long to waste any more time. Miyata can’t even figure out who really took him, because the request came internally but nothing can be traced to a real place.”
Nodding slowly, Takizawa pursed his lips. “I’ll see what I can find. I’ll give you a call if something turns up.”
“Understood.”
~
Maybe the blood was his. Fujigaya couldn’t tell anymore.
He prided himself for not speaking, not even refusing. The Genesis Project. Yes, of course he knew, realizing the true mission, knowing it was what he needed to keep safe, but no, no, these things couldn’t have that. It’d be letting down his team if he let them have it. There would be no shreds of honor, just shame.
“All you have to do is tell us.”
They could all go to hell and burn. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t remember moving, but he flipped them off all the same.
The room burst into flames.
~
Nikaido had just finished reassembling his favorite rocket launcher, gently glossing its surface over as he watched Senga clean his rifle. “We’ll get him back, you know.”
Senga’s smile was strained, but sincere. “I know we will… it’s just been a long time and Taipi almost never goes out solo.”
“That’s ‘cause Fujigaya can’t even sleep in his room when Yokoo’s out, you know how he hates doing anything on his own.”
Senga nodded, laughing a bit. “Yeah, but Nika, you’re kinda like that too.”
“Am not,” Nikaido scoffed, tossing ammo at him with a snort. “Besides, if I were Taipi right now-“
“You’d have blown yourself up already,” Tamamori volunteered from where he was cleaning his own set of arsenal. “Do you know they’re still placing bets on when you do that? I like Kawai’s wager the best. He thinks you’re going explode when you fall into a pot-hole while we’re doing a rush-job.”
“Luckily,” Miyata chimed in as he finished Tamamori’s thought, “the only other one who might die when that happens in Senga.”
Senga looked down at his rifle with sadness. “I’m too young to die.”
“And far, far too pretty,” Yokoo teased from the doorway. Everyone looked up at their second-in-command and he gave a little slicing motion with his hand, shaking his head. No update on Fujigaya. “Kitayama says lights out in fifteen, he wants you well rested in case we have to move out early morning.”
“I hate mornings,” Tamamori sighed, gathering up his gear. “Gun-san, please make the sun rise slowly tomorrow.”
~
They never let him sleep. Every time he felt himself slipping away, seeking for that relief of the abyss, there was a needle, and a voice asking him about Genesis. He’d never tell them.
He lost track of the hours.
And then he lost track of the days.
Dark and alone, with nothing to hear except the Genesis Secret and nothing to feel but the burn of the needles. The smell of blood, the fire that he couldn’t see, it was all there, but he didn’t know where.
He didn’t know where.
~
The café was pleasant but lively, with warm-toned walls and the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the air. Takizawa was picturesque with his standard foam-cup coffee, sunglasses fashionable and pose chic.
Across from him, Kitayama looked almost as rumpled and sleepy as he felt, except Yokoo had actually forced him to change into clean clothes and brush his teeth. While Yokoo was the executive officer, in reality he was the mother of the group, the one who made sure they got shit done and still resembled human beings while doing it.
“I hope you appreciate everything I’ve done for you,” Takizawa murmured, sipping at his coffee, eyeing Kitayama as the man yawned.
Covering his mouth for a moment, Kitayama paused as he pulled his own cup of coffee towards him. Black, just how he needed it right then. “I’m insulted,” he replied as he took a sip. “You should know that I always love it when you buy me coffee.”
There was another moment of silence as the two enjoyed their coffee and then, casual as ever, Takizawa produced a small jump-drive from his pocket, laying it next to Kitayama’s coffee. “This is everything my men could find. It’s not a lot, but it should help.”
Kitayama nodded, lips pursed as he slipped it into his pocket. “Who has him?”
“They’re not part of your branch, but they’re similar. Experimental technologies and the like, run by a former field commander from PSIA.” Takizawa nodded at the other’s pocket. “Yamamoto thinks they needed a retrieval of sorts, something to do with the Citadel.” Espionage was one of Fujigaya’s fortes; it made sense if there was something to be taken from the enemy capital.
“All the more reason to find out why he’s gone silent,” Kitayama replied, lips quirked in a wry smile. The Citadel was a tricky place, but Fujigaya knew it better than anyone else.
“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll go find out and add another story to your repertoire,” Takizawa commented, his smile indulgent. For all that he was a fancy-pants General and the like, Takizawa took a true interest in the men he was in charge of, and he enjoyed watching them giving it all they had. “Just make sure I get some credit for risking my neck, okay, oh great Red-eyed Demon.”
“Nobody but the gossip mill uses that name,” Kitayama replied with a small eye-roll, but he looked smug all the same. It was a flashy moniker, and while most of the stories of his battle-field antics were grossly exaggerated, behind every lie was a small truth, so he felt he deserved some of the reverent, fearful admiration the barracks treated the Red-eyed Demon and his band of daredevils. There was nothing wrong with having a healthy ego, after all.
“All the same, I’m risking quite a bit right now and so is my team, especially Yamamoto. They don’t forgive hackers very easily and I don’t think I can cover for them if we get inquiries, which will happen if you’re wrong.”
“I’m right,” Kitayama said. There was confidence in his lazy smile and amused tone, and Takizawa didn’t even really wonder why he believed him. Kitayama’s path was not always the straightest, but he took care of his own and he was more than an excellent soldier. He knew what he was doing.
“Well, my bit here is done.” Finishing off his coffee with a small flourish, Takizawai stood. “Hope you have fun,” he said, nodding agreeably at his companion.
Kitayama gave him a small salute, though Takizawa couldn’t tell if it was out of respect or teasing. “Oh, we all will.”
~
He felt poisoned. While he never could remember eating or sleeping or anything, somehow he was still there, on the brink of insanity, helpless and immobile.
The voice wouldn’t go away.
And sometimes it was speaking in his head.
The needles burned more and more, the next time always worse than the previous. He was quiet, quiet except for the hisses of pain at every injection, the tears bitterly making tracks down his face.
He’d never tell them what they wanted to know.
~
Yokoo parked Kyon in the outer garage, waiting to park the van perfectly before allowing anyone to get out. “This place is fancy,” he commented, nodding towards the security gate. “Small, but fancy.”
“High-tech,” Miyata hummed in slight envy as they all exited the van. Nikaido gave Kyon a wistful look, seeing as Yokoo had said no to the rocket launcher. The automatic rifle would have to do, his finger on the safety. Just in case. Supposedly this place was nothing but geeks and nerds, but Nikaido never liked to take his chances. Better to be ready to gun someone down than getting your defenseless ass blown up.
The outer security gate was easy to clear; a simple scan and they were all waved through, into the industrial sized elevator, which took them down to the underground level. All around Kitayama, his men shifted, hands on guns, on standby. They’d been cleared for entry, but none of them wanted to assume it was in a friendly manner. One of their own was missing and these people were responsible for that, one way or another.
There was another round of security when they got to the sub-level. “I’m sorry,” a black-uniformed man informed them. “But due to the nature of this center, we’re going to have to ask you to leave your sidearms and all other weapons behind.
“Like hell,” Senga and Nikaido muttered in unison, hands clenching defensively around their rifles.
Kitayama raised a hand and swiped down, giving them both a look. “Stay here,” he told them, unloading his two handguns, as well as the two knives kept in his boots and the blade at the small of his back. “Miyata, Tamamori, you stay too,” he added when he saw them slowly putting down their arms. “It’ll just be Yokoo and I. Standby.”
“Roger,” the four replied in unison, albeit with some reluctance. Tamamori hunkered down, lips pursed in thought, head tilted to the side, as if listening to something, Miyata hovering over him, gun back in hand. None of them were happy to be left behind, but stay they would, glaring balefully at the security detail.
Yokoo finished depositing his weapons with Tamamori, straightening up and submitting himself to a scan, arms raised, lips placed in a wry smile as he and Kitayama were thoroughly frisked. Only after that was finished were they motioned to step through. Another black uniform appeared - though he was younger, and his jacket bore the insignia of the division - stopping in front of them and giving a curt bow. “I’m Lieutenant Sanada Yuuma. The Commander would like to speak to you in his office.”
“Well then, show me to your commander.” Kitayama’s smile was supposed to be polite, Yokoo supposed, but it was rather too disdainful to really work. Kitayama had little patience for posturing. He didn’t want to talk to anyone; he wanted to find out what the hell had happened to Fujigaya.
Everything was so sterile, Yokoo noted as they walked down pristine hallways. It was like a hospital with blue-white lights and white walls and tiling. Creepy, but clean. There were other doorways, but there were blinds covering the windows, and most of them were darkened. Besides the soft whir of the air system and the click of their boots on the floor, it was silent.
Definitely creepy.
~
Unending spirals of nausea and Fujigaya couldn’t even feel the acid in his throat anymore. The pain was a blanket wrapped smothering and tight around him, slowly making it harder to breathe.
Who needed to breathe anyway?
Fujigaya didn’t need to breathe. Not anymore.
~
The Commander reminded Kitayama much of the General directly over him. Another soft man, though this one smelled of rubbing ethanol and metal, rather than cigarette smoke. His office was immaculate, the theme was chromatic, and all of it set Kitayama’s teeth on edge.
“Captain Kitayama, Agent Yokoo,” the Commander greeted both of them as Sanada bowed and slipped from the room. “Welcome to the Center. I’m surprised to see you, to be honest. Is there any particular reason the Red-eyed Demon needs to see my facilities?”
“Bullshit,” Kitayama quickly cut him off, hands slamming on the desk as he got up close and personal. “You know exactly why I’m here and I’d appreciate it if you’d just tell me where he is and what he’s doing.”
The Commander looked taken aback, sinking back into his chair with apprehension, licking his lips. “Now, there, Kitayama-san, there’s no need for such aggression, I assure you. I’d be happy to answer questions about Fujigaya as best as I can.”
Kitayama was disinterested in being placated, though Yokoo inwardly wished he’d taken a more level approach to broaching the subject. Kitayama, however, was not known for his subtlety. “Then start by telling me where the fuck he is.”
“I can’t tell you that,” the Commander replied quickly, shaking his head. “That’s classified… but I can assure you that he’s very safe.”
“Bullshit,” Kitayama snapped, reaching out to grab the man’s collar. “I will give you five seconds to tell me what’s going on and after that, you start losing body parts.”
“You’re threatening me--?”
“One.”
“But you can’t--!” the man blustered, trying to pry Kitayama’s hands off his front.
“Two.”
“Dammit, you are stepping out of bou-“
Kitayama swiftly broke his nose. “Three.”
“Goddammit!” the Commander howled, clutching his nose, blood pouring over his fingers.
“Four.”
“What do you want?” He was panicked, his eyes wide as Kitayama cocked his fist again.
Something cold pressed against his temple as a soft click sounded in his ear. “…H-how?” he gasped as Yokoo stood at his side, gun in hand. “You were scanned! They checked you! I watched…”
“Five.” Kitayama murmured, stepping back. “Where is he?”
Down the hallway, back where he’d left his men, Tamamori closed his eyes, smiling as he stood. All eyes were on him, and the smile took a slightly vicious edge. Kitayama had unsnapped their leashes, giving them free rein.
“Boom.”
~
He was dying, Fujigaya realized. He was cold, frozen, and he was dying.
Everything burned, but he was cold, so cold. But even the voice had stopped at this point, leaving him alone and empty in the dark. He hated it, the voice, hated it for hounding him and then hated it for leaving him in the dark, with nothing to show that he was still alive except the searing pain and his own ragged breathing.
He was going to die alone.
~
“You see,” Kitayama murmured as he pulled back, “Your mistake was not stripping us down naked when we arrived. You’ve heard of us, you know what we do, and yet you got complacent. You’re like a little queen in her fucking hive, thinking she’s all safe. You think we don’t know how to get past those kinds of scans?” There was nothing but derision and scorn in Kitayama’s voice. “Now answer my question.”
“You think you can just shoot me?” the man blustered. “There are two of you. You harm me and my men will get you befo-“
Yokoo shot him in the leg.
There was screaming and blood spilling onto the gleaming floor, Yokoo’s lip curling in loathing as blood splattered on his boot, moving to press the gun into the other leg. “I’ll do this one next,” he hissed. “And then I’ll take out a hand. And then the other. And then your mouth.”
The Commander was moaning in pain, eyes rolling in terror as Yokoo spoke. Kitayama watched from the other side of the desk, impassive.
Yokoo shot his other leg.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man howled, falling out of his chair, convulsing. Yokooo stood over him, taking aim again.
“He’s… the… here.” The man panted, whimpering in pain as Yokoo swung a foot out, slamming his boot into the man’s gut. “Goddamit, he’s here… On the wall. The keypad.”
Kitayama strode over to the wall to the left, which was just plain, chrome paneling except for the small keypad.
“8-1-4-1-9-0-0…” the Commander slowly counted out, eyes on Yokoo, trying to ease himself away.
Entering in the code, Kitayama took a step back as the four middle wall panels slowly eased away, revealing an observation glass.
“You son of a bitch,” he breathed out.
On a hospital bed, surrounded by wires, machinery, and orderlies, was Fujigaya Taisuke.
~
Everything had become a blinding, agonizing blank.
Was it time, Fujigaya wondered, to finally say goodbye?
~
He should have realized they’d catch on, but he’d been counting on having more time. The young man grimaced as he shed the outer black uniform jacket, heading back to the ventilation service room.
He hadn’t quite gotten what he wanted. But the Genesis Project could wait. It was just a bit of a disappointment, he’d gone through so much effort to get Fujigaya.
Hoisting himself through a vent, he began climbing.
~
Bodies littered the entrance, and Tamamori gave the scene a rather unimpressed look. “They didn’t even fire…”
“I’m sure they’ll regret it when they wake up,” Miyata replied, smiling with a soft shrug as he tried slicing into the building’s mainframe, using a security guard as a seat.
Tamamori made a noise in his throat, wondered if they got bonus points for not killing any of the security detail.
The elevator opened and Senga and Nikaido appeared, Senga dragging the two guards who’d been up in the garage. Nikaido was hauling his favorite rocket launcher, looking considerably happier.
“You really shouldn’t fire that in an underground building,” Miyata said over his shoulder.
“Whatever,” Nikaido shot back. “Kitayama gave the attack order, I’m just being prepared.”
Sighing, Tamamori checked the hallway again. “You know, Ryouta thinks you’re going to get us all killed when you blow up… betting 5000yen on it.”
“Shut up.”
“Oi.” Miyata, oldest of the current bunch and therefore somewhat in charge, cut into the exchange. “Senga, Nika, start securing the area.”
“Roger~!”
Tamamori was drifting in their wake, frowning a bit. “I’m going to go follow Kitayama and Yokoo, ne.” He tilted his head, hand to his ear. “Things just don’t… feel right.”
“Be careful,” Miyata warned over his shoulder.
“Right.”
~
Fujigaya wished he could still feel his heartbeat. There was nothing but the relentless waves of pain.
Maybe he’d already died.
He hadn’t wanted to die… not without saying goodbye. At least to his team.
His team…
It was all too painful, making it hard to concentrate, to think. Was he really dying? Somehow it should have been more peaceful, but the fire was in his bones now, licking and gnawing at him. Why couldn’t he just rest, finally?
~
If Kitayama hadn’t broken the Commander’s nose the first time, the second fist thrown had definitely done the job. He didn’t stop there, digging his fingers into the man’s bullet wounds, and Yokoo was sure that was just to hear him scream.
“Talk.” Kitayama’s voice was a harsh growl. “Now.”
“It was… a project,” the man gasped out. “We recovered… experimental technology from the Citadel… Mental conditioning… brainwashing… we gave him false information about troop movements… needed to see how it worked on our men… Agent… Agent Fujigaya fit our needs.”
Snarling, Kitayama snatched the gun out of his XO’s hand, pressing it to the man’s shoulder and pulling the trigger. (The walls must be sound-proofed, Yokoo realized. The orderlies in the room didn’t even move, hovering over his comrade in observation, kept blind by the one-way mirrorglass.) “You think you can just take my men and use them as your guinea pigs?” He pressed the gun to the Commander’s temple. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you now.”
“Please… please we just… needed…”
“Kitayama!” Tamamori appeared in the doorway, gun raised.
Yokoo shook his head quickly. Kitayama didn’t even look up, still staring down into eyes filled with terror.
“Yokoo… Tamamori… Get Fujigaya now.”
Yokoo didn’t quite get the door shut before Kitayama pulled the trigger again.
“What happened? Where’s Taipi?” Tamamori handed Yokoo another gun before scouting ahead.
Cocking the gun, Yokoo nodded at the next door down. “He’s in there.” It was keypadded as well, but there was no point in overriding it. Tamamori angled his gun and shot the lock off, moving to back Yokoo up as he kicked the door open. “Get down on the floor, now.”
~
Now that the voice was gone, Fujigaya was left with nothing but his own thoughts and the dull throbbing ache for company, and even the hurt seemed to be fading away.
Fading…
“Taisuke? Taisuke, can you hear me?”
Who was that…? Fujigaya knew that voice. It wasn’t the sickeningly mechanical voice from before. It was warm, real, even as it filtered through the dark.
“Taisuke, wake up…”
How could he wake up from death?
~
Kitayama appeared in the doorway, hands caked in blood, as Yokoo meticulously removed the implants from Fujigaya. The orderlies were in a corner, trussed up with wires and duct-tape. “How is he?”
Yokoo shrugged as he worked. Nothing seemed to be dug in or anything, and Fujigaya was stable… but he wasn’t responding. On the other side of the hospital bed, Tamamori held Fujigaya’s hand, calling out every now and then. “Taisuke… Come on, Taisuke. We’ve got to go home.”
Wiping his hands on the corner of the blanket covering Fujigaya, Kitayama leaned over him. “Fujigaya, if you don’t wake up, I swear, I am going to kill you now, bastard.” He had not just done all of that just for Fujigaya to be a vegetable.
Yokoo shot him a look, shaking his head. “Taisuke’ll wake up when he can… they had him in deep, it looks like.” And really, Yokoo probably shouldn’t have been taking things off, not knowing what they did, but it seemed to be going okay.
~
More voices… dying seemed to be rather noisy.
And lighter. Everything was going from pure, deepest black to a fuzzy sort of grey. The voices became distinct as feeling flooded his limbs. He knew those voices.
Yokoo. Kitayama. Tamamori.
“Guys…?” He tried to speak, and his voice came out as a croak, his throat raw.
~
Tamamori fell on his ass as the soft word came from Fujigaya’s lips, but Kitayama just stepped over him, not caring that his hands were still dirty as he curled his fingers behind Fujigaya’s head, bringing his gaze to him. “Fujigaya.”
Fujigaya’s eyes didn’t really open, just fluttered for a moment. He felt so fragile in Kitayama’s hands. Three weeks and it showed on his body, he was so thin. But then he spoke and Kitayama and Yokoo both leaned in close to catch the disjointed words.
“Thought… I died… never told them… about Genesis… pro-project…” There was a ghost of a smile on Fujigaya’s lips, or maybe Kitayama was just willing it to be there. “S-sorry, Leader.”
And he went still again.
“It’s okay,” Yokoo was quick to assure the other two, checking Fujigaya’s vitals again. Still stable. “But we need to get him out now.”
Tamamori bit his lip, hand resting on Fujigaya’s knee. “He’ll be okay?”
“I think-“
“He will be.” Kitayama spoke over Yokoo, a fire burning in his eyes. “Get him back to the van. Call Takizawa… he can come clean up this place.” The man would probably like that. “But… Send Nika over. I want this room destroyed.”
“But this is evidence…”
“I don’t care.” Kitayama stalked out of the room. “I want it gone. Now.”
Yokoo watched him leave as Tamamori carefully scooped Fujigaya up. “Aye aye… Leader.”
Senga was nice enough to remove the orderlies from the room before Nika rigged it to blow. He didn’t need anything big, but he timed it, giving them five minutes to get back to the surface before it went off.
Fujigaya was gently tucked between Senga and Tamamori as Yokoo scrambled into the driver’s seat, starting Kyon.
“Men,” Kitayama said with a grim smile that was tinged with relief. “Let’s go home.”
[Epilogue]
“Thank you for saving some leftovers for me,” Takizawa said as way of greeting. It was the same old café, with his favorite coffee in hand. “How’s he doing?”
Kitayama looked much more alive than he had their previous encounter, a smile on his lips as he sipped his coffee. “He’s still spending a lot of time unconscious… but he seems to be fully intact and mostly lucid when he’s awake, though sometimes he still doesn’t know where he is and gets panicked. But it’s only been a few days, they said it’ll take time.”
“That’s good~.” Humming, Takizawa glanced out of the window at the world bustling around them, before he turned back to Kitayama. “I suppose you know already… about the little snag we ran into.”
“Miyata told me when your reports came in.” Kitayama leaned back in his chair, tracing his fingertip over the table’s surface. “Lieutenant Sanada Yuma… of the Empire.” A man of the Citadel. The enemy.
“The Commander was never a very strong-willed man…” Takizawa observed, shrugging lightly as he thought about it. “But he had the connections to make things happen. This plan probably took years to actually launch, for them to get someone set in so deep to make it work.”
Kitayama set his coffee down, leaning forward to rest his chin on his joint fingers. “Tell me, Takizawa … What is the Genesis Project? Fujigaya mentioned it during extraction.”
With a look of surprise, Takizawa laughed. “Now that, my friend, is a very, very interesting question.”
Author: crazy_otaku911
Groups/Pairings: Kis-My-Ft2 (with Takki + small appearance of Sanada) - Gen, (but there are shimmering little delusional sniffs of K/F, S/2, and M/T... and if you really want, Y/I ;| )
Rating: R
Summary: AU - When Fujigaya goes missing while on a solo run, Kitayama and the rest of his team will stop at nothing to make sure they find him, the path bloody and stained in their wake.
Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction.
Warnings: Guns, violence, blood, language, killing.
A/N: Beta'd by omoikkiri ♥, many thanks~! Written... well, to coincide with Debut Day-ish, but is not nearly as cheerful as a debut celebration fic should be, so... it's not really. All the same, Congratulations, Kisumai!!! ♥ The journey has been awesome. [Written while having One Ok Rock's 'Liar' (line taken to make the title) and Yara w/ THEY Budou's 'Ichiya no Yume' on repeat. Lyrically has nothing to do with it, but musically, it might help set the tone?]
They’d said the mission would be complicated, but his expertise in field-work made him perfect for it, and that’s why they’d needed him. It had been flattering, even if he wasn’t used to working solo anymore. But his superiors had approved the request from the department and Fujigaya was barely able to let his command unit leader know before they’d swept him off to brief him on the assignment. It was complicated, but simple at the same time. They needed him to retrieve something for them, something hidden and buried deep.
It should have been easy for a veteran like him, but things were never easy.
They got him before he even realized what was happening.
~
“No, General,” Kitayama’s voice was flat and sinister as he rested his palms on the desk, leaning over to make his point very clear. “That is not acceptable. My man has been silent for two weeks and nobody can tell me a damned thing about what he’s doing.”
The man hemmed and hawed. He was a desk-man, the type Kitayama despised. Men who thought they knew everything, could do anything, but who never even saw the battlefield. Soft men. “The mission is classified; it was cleared before it even reached our division.”
“Let me make this as clear as possible,” Kitayama tried again, pulling out his handgun and flicking the safety off casually. “I am going to find out where my man is. And if you screw around or get in my way, I am going to blow your brains out and then blow the brains out of everyone else in this damned office.”
“Are you threatening me?” The man’s eyes were wide, and his voice came out as a broken squeal. Weak men, Kitayama hated weak men, and it would only take a little more before the cold metal of a gun barrel shut the man up. He gently rested it against the man’s forehead, feeling him stiffen against the cold steel.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he whispered, before pulling back. “Keep out of my way or I will shoot you. And the first time won’t kill you either.” With that, he exited the office.
Yokoo Wataru, his executive officer, was waiting outside the door, arms crossed, wearing a long-suffering expression. “You had to pull a gun?” he asked, falling into step with Kitayama.
“Of course~.” And Kitayama’s smile was wolfish. “Now he won’t get in my way. Besides, c’mon, it’s not like you want that as your superior officer either.”
“The files really are classified,” Yokoo continued, blithely ignoring him. “Miyata pulled the files and they’re so classified, we’re not even sure who actually requested Fujigaya.”
Kitayama’s stride was relaxed, but a glance told Yokoo that his commander was in a foul mood. While they’d never been told when Fujigaya was to return, it was one of Kitayama’s rules to report back every five days. It had been nearly fifteen with no word from Fujigaya and while their unit didn’t always adhere to military rule, they did follow Kitayama’s rules. Something had gone wrong and nobody was telling them anything.
“This is why you need to get yourself promoted,” Yokoo hummed in distraction. “Then you’d really be able to throw your weight around properly.”
“Who needs the rank,” Kitayama scoffed, stopping in the hallway and jabbing a finger back at the office they’d just left. “What is he doing with that rank? If someone had pulled a gun on me, one of you would have had him down and hurting five steps out of the door. What happened? Nothing.” Kitayama’s eyes were dark. “Rank only matters to the idiots who let it matter.”
Yokoo watched as Kitayama headed back to their small base of affairs. “Gather the rest, we meet in an hour. Nika and Senga will be at the shooting range. Miyata and Tamamori will be at their place. And I,” Kitayama said, throwing a smile over his shoulder, “will be sleeping until you guys get your asses there.”
Yokoo just chuckled softly, waving him on. They’d be there, of course. One of their own was missing and that sat well with no one.
~
Everything ached when Fujigaya came to, pulsing and throbbing in a way that had him retching helplessly as his head spun.
It was dark, he realized, and it wasn’t a blindfold. The room itself -wherever the hell it was - was pitch black.
He should have known something was wrong, should have realized before the prick of the needle, but things had happened faster than even he could react. Everything had gone black, and then he’d woken up in the dark.
They hadn’t been truthful about the real intent of this mission.
“Tell us what you know,” a disembodied voice surrounded him, coming from all sides, making him flinch for a moment before stilling completely, barely breathing. “Tell us what you know about the Genesis Project.”
~
The team’s briefing room was not formal by any standards. There were no tables or chairs, just the projector screen on one end, the projector and computers on the other. The middle was taken up by a battered and well broken in couch, and to allow others seating, there were bean bags tossed around the remaining floor space.
Kitayama sprawled over the couch, his self-elected throne, while the rest seated themselves on bean bags - except Yokoo, who preferred to stand when discussing things.
“So we’re going to break in and find out where they sent him?” Senga, youngest on the team but no less seasoned than the rest, was perched near Kitayama, expectant. He was close to Fujigaya, and the lack of contact left him jittered.
“Yes and no,” Kitayama replied, regarding them all for a moment. “First we go higher up and see if they’ll talk. Then we break in and find out where they sent him.”
Nikaido, second youngest and resident hot-head, was already poised for a fight, but when was he not? Nikaido had come to Kitayama’s team after breaking his commanding officer’s nose. “Can we bomb it?”
“No,” Yokoo interjected, shooting Nikaido a look. “We’re not blowing up anything.”
“Unless we have to,” Kitayama and Nikaido reasoned in the same voice. Kitayama grinned for a moment before continuing.
“We’ll take whatever measures we have to, but there are still some other options. It is truly tempting to just go in guns blazing, but he’s been silent for too long. This means he might be deep and that means we might have to pull a lot of strings to get to him.”
Tamamori finally spoke up, having been silent in his own corner, contented to listen for the most part. But everyone knew he was listening to more than just the conversation at hand through the little earpiece in his left ear. “Bird-san says we’ve scared the nest.”
“That’s what happens when you pull a gun on the General,” Yokoo grumbled, but everyone else crowed at the news.
“Old maggot-face?” Nikaido high-fived Senga before turning to Kitayama. “Did he squeal?”
“He nearly fainted,” Kitayama said, smirking. “Swear he pissed his pants.”
“Such is Leader.” Miyata laughed, eyes sparkling. He was the last member of their team and while he sometimes looked like goody-goody two-shoes and acted like he was a gentle pacifist, he was terrifying when set off. “What do you want us to do then?”
“Load up and be ready. I’ve got a man to talk to, but when we need to move out, I want you to be ready.”
Kyon was their armored and severely suped-up van. It’d been christened by Senga when the team was first formed, and Yokoo treated it like his favorite child. Nobody was allowed to eat inside Kyon and heaven help the unlucky man who got blood on the upholstery.
“Roger~!” they all chorused, and Kitayama nodded in approval. They were a motley crew, but they were fierce and he was proud of them.
“Move out.”
~
There was blood on the walls. Fujigaya didn’t know whose blood it was, but he was mostly sure it wasn’t his. He kept on seeing corpses out of the corners of his eyes, but every time he turned his head, there was nothing but the eternal black.
There had been the prick of another needle, but he hadn’t felt anyone near him.
“Tell us about the Genesis Project.”
This time the needle was a knife and Fujigaya choked as pain ripped through him, acid rising in his throat.
~
Miyata plopped the laptop onto Kitayama. “Tono’s calling.”
“I do wish you’d stop calling me that,” General Takizawa called out, but Miyata was already gone, leaving the briefing room empty except for Kitayama and the General on the screen.
“To what do I owe this honor?” Kitayama inquired, blinking one sleep-filled eye open. Takizawa Hideaki was a General, though he sadly wasn’t their directly superior officer. Takizawa was one of the few superior officers in their division that Kitayama was convinced actually had a pair of balls, and that earned him quite a bit of respect from the entire team. He was a man who led with guts (and a smidgen of insanity) and thus the team would follow him.
“I heard you’re causing a fuss. Ruffled quite a few feathers, huh?”
“I didn’t even fire my gun~.”
Takizawa tsked gently before locking gazes with Kitayama. “You’re sure he’s missing?”
“I’m sure,” Kitayama replied, the sleepy façade gone, eyes ice cold. “My men report every five days, no matter where they are. Fujigaya knows how to get in touch with us, even when he’s behind enemy lines. I need to find him, General.”
Takizawa paused for a moment, considering it. “I just need you to be sure, Kitayama. I’m willing to help you, but it will take digging where I’m not allowed to dig. I’m willing to risk my neck for him, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” Kitayama repeated. “This isn’t like Fujigaya. It’s been nearly fifteen days since he left on this stupid little classified mission and it’s been dead air since then. That’s not normal and it’s been too long to waste any more time. Miyata can’t even figure out who really took him, because the request came internally but nothing can be traced to a real place.”
Nodding slowly, Takizawa pursed his lips. “I’ll see what I can find. I’ll give you a call if something turns up.”
“Understood.”
~
Maybe the blood was his. Fujigaya couldn’t tell anymore.
He prided himself for not speaking, not even refusing. The Genesis Project. Yes, of course he knew, realizing the true mission, knowing it was what he needed to keep safe, but no, no, these things couldn’t have that. It’d be letting down his team if he let them have it. There would be no shreds of honor, just shame.
“All you have to do is tell us.”
They could all go to hell and burn. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t remember moving, but he flipped them off all the same.
The room burst into flames.
~
Nikaido had just finished reassembling his favorite rocket launcher, gently glossing its surface over as he watched Senga clean his rifle. “We’ll get him back, you know.”
Senga’s smile was strained, but sincere. “I know we will… it’s just been a long time and Taipi almost never goes out solo.”
“That’s ‘cause Fujigaya can’t even sleep in his room when Yokoo’s out, you know how he hates doing anything on his own.”
Senga nodded, laughing a bit. “Yeah, but Nika, you’re kinda like that too.”
“Am not,” Nikaido scoffed, tossing ammo at him with a snort. “Besides, if I were Taipi right now-“
“You’d have blown yourself up already,” Tamamori volunteered from where he was cleaning his own set of arsenal. “Do you know they’re still placing bets on when you do that? I like Kawai’s wager the best. He thinks you’re going explode when you fall into a pot-hole while we’re doing a rush-job.”
“Luckily,” Miyata chimed in as he finished Tamamori’s thought, “the only other one who might die when that happens in Senga.”
Senga looked down at his rifle with sadness. “I’m too young to die.”
“And far, far too pretty,” Yokoo teased from the doorway. Everyone looked up at their second-in-command and he gave a little slicing motion with his hand, shaking his head. No update on Fujigaya. “Kitayama says lights out in fifteen, he wants you well rested in case we have to move out early morning.”
“I hate mornings,” Tamamori sighed, gathering up his gear. “Gun-san, please make the sun rise slowly tomorrow.”
~
They never let him sleep. Every time he felt himself slipping away, seeking for that relief of the abyss, there was a needle, and a voice asking him about Genesis. He’d never tell them.
He lost track of the hours.
And then he lost track of the days.
Dark and alone, with nothing to hear except the Genesis Secret and nothing to feel but the burn of the needles. The smell of blood, the fire that he couldn’t see, it was all there, but he didn’t know where.
He didn’t know where.
~
The café was pleasant but lively, with warm-toned walls and the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the air. Takizawa was picturesque with his standard foam-cup coffee, sunglasses fashionable and pose chic.
Across from him, Kitayama looked almost as rumpled and sleepy as he felt, except Yokoo had actually forced him to change into clean clothes and brush his teeth. While Yokoo was the executive officer, in reality he was the mother of the group, the one who made sure they got shit done and still resembled human beings while doing it.
“I hope you appreciate everything I’ve done for you,” Takizawa murmured, sipping at his coffee, eyeing Kitayama as the man yawned.
Covering his mouth for a moment, Kitayama paused as he pulled his own cup of coffee towards him. Black, just how he needed it right then. “I’m insulted,” he replied as he took a sip. “You should know that I always love it when you buy me coffee.”
There was another moment of silence as the two enjoyed their coffee and then, casual as ever, Takizawa produced a small jump-drive from his pocket, laying it next to Kitayama’s coffee. “This is everything my men could find. It’s not a lot, but it should help.”
Kitayama nodded, lips pursed as he slipped it into his pocket. “Who has him?”
“They’re not part of your branch, but they’re similar. Experimental technologies and the like, run by a former field commander from PSIA.” Takizawa nodded at the other’s pocket. “Yamamoto thinks they needed a retrieval of sorts, something to do with the Citadel.” Espionage was one of Fujigaya’s fortes; it made sense if there was something to be taken from the enemy capital.
“All the more reason to find out why he’s gone silent,” Kitayama replied, lips quirked in a wry smile. The Citadel was a tricky place, but Fujigaya knew it better than anyone else.
“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll go find out and add another story to your repertoire,” Takizawa commented, his smile indulgent. For all that he was a fancy-pants General and the like, Takizawa took a true interest in the men he was in charge of, and he enjoyed watching them giving it all they had. “Just make sure I get some credit for risking my neck, okay, oh great Red-eyed Demon.”
“Nobody but the gossip mill uses that name,” Kitayama replied with a small eye-roll, but he looked smug all the same. It was a flashy moniker, and while most of the stories of his battle-field antics were grossly exaggerated, behind every lie was a small truth, so he felt he deserved some of the reverent, fearful admiration the barracks treated the Red-eyed Demon and his band of daredevils. There was nothing wrong with having a healthy ego, after all.
“All the same, I’m risking quite a bit right now and so is my team, especially Yamamoto. They don’t forgive hackers very easily and I don’t think I can cover for them if we get inquiries, which will happen if you’re wrong.”
“I’m right,” Kitayama said. There was confidence in his lazy smile and amused tone, and Takizawa didn’t even really wonder why he believed him. Kitayama’s path was not always the straightest, but he took care of his own and he was more than an excellent soldier. He knew what he was doing.
“Well, my bit here is done.” Finishing off his coffee with a small flourish, Takizawai stood. “Hope you have fun,” he said, nodding agreeably at his companion.
Kitayama gave him a small salute, though Takizawa couldn’t tell if it was out of respect or teasing. “Oh, we all will.”
~
He felt poisoned. While he never could remember eating or sleeping or anything, somehow he was still there, on the brink of insanity, helpless and immobile.
The voice wouldn’t go away.
And sometimes it was speaking in his head.
The needles burned more and more, the next time always worse than the previous. He was quiet, quiet except for the hisses of pain at every injection, the tears bitterly making tracks down his face.
He’d never tell them what they wanted to know.
~
Yokoo parked Kyon in the outer garage, waiting to park the van perfectly before allowing anyone to get out. “This place is fancy,” he commented, nodding towards the security gate. “Small, but fancy.”
“High-tech,” Miyata hummed in slight envy as they all exited the van. Nikaido gave Kyon a wistful look, seeing as Yokoo had said no to the rocket launcher. The automatic rifle would have to do, his finger on the safety. Just in case. Supposedly this place was nothing but geeks and nerds, but Nikaido never liked to take his chances. Better to be ready to gun someone down than getting your defenseless ass blown up.
The outer security gate was easy to clear; a simple scan and they were all waved through, into the industrial sized elevator, which took them down to the underground level. All around Kitayama, his men shifted, hands on guns, on standby. They’d been cleared for entry, but none of them wanted to assume it was in a friendly manner. One of their own was missing and these people were responsible for that, one way or another.
There was another round of security when they got to the sub-level. “I’m sorry,” a black-uniformed man informed them. “But due to the nature of this center, we’re going to have to ask you to leave your sidearms and all other weapons behind.
“Like hell,” Senga and Nikaido muttered in unison, hands clenching defensively around their rifles.
Kitayama raised a hand and swiped down, giving them both a look. “Stay here,” he told them, unloading his two handguns, as well as the two knives kept in his boots and the blade at the small of his back. “Miyata, Tamamori, you stay too,” he added when he saw them slowly putting down their arms. “It’ll just be Yokoo and I. Standby.”
“Roger,” the four replied in unison, albeit with some reluctance. Tamamori hunkered down, lips pursed in thought, head tilted to the side, as if listening to something, Miyata hovering over him, gun back in hand. None of them were happy to be left behind, but stay they would, glaring balefully at the security detail.
Yokoo finished depositing his weapons with Tamamori, straightening up and submitting himself to a scan, arms raised, lips placed in a wry smile as he and Kitayama were thoroughly frisked. Only after that was finished were they motioned to step through. Another black uniform appeared - though he was younger, and his jacket bore the insignia of the division - stopping in front of them and giving a curt bow. “I’m Lieutenant Sanada Yuuma. The Commander would like to speak to you in his office.”
“Well then, show me to your commander.” Kitayama’s smile was supposed to be polite, Yokoo supposed, but it was rather too disdainful to really work. Kitayama had little patience for posturing. He didn’t want to talk to anyone; he wanted to find out what the hell had happened to Fujigaya.
Everything was so sterile, Yokoo noted as they walked down pristine hallways. It was like a hospital with blue-white lights and white walls and tiling. Creepy, but clean. There were other doorways, but there were blinds covering the windows, and most of them were darkened. Besides the soft whir of the air system and the click of their boots on the floor, it was silent.
Definitely creepy.
~
Unending spirals of nausea and Fujigaya couldn’t even feel the acid in his throat anymore. The pain was a blanket wrapped smothering and tight around him, slowly making it harder to breathe.
Who needed to breathe anyway?
Fujigaya didn’t need to breathe. Not anymore.
~
The Commander reminded Kitayama much of the General directly over him. Another soft man, though this one smelled of rubbing ethanol and metal, rather than cigarette smoke. His office was immaculate, the theme was chromatic, and all of it set Kitayama’s teeth on edge.
“Captain Kitayama, Agent Yokoo,” the Commander greeted both of them as Sanada bowed and slipped from the room. “Welcome to the Center. I’m surprised to see you, to be honest. Is there any particular reason the Red-eyed Demon needs to see my facilities?”
“Bullshit,” Kitayama quickly cut him off, hands slamming on the desk as he got up close and personal. “You know exactly why I’m here and I’d appreciate it if you’d just tell me where he is and what he’s doing.”
The Commander looked taken aback, sinking back into his chair with apprehension, licking his lips. “Now, there, Kitayama-san, there’s no need for such aggression, I assure you. I’d be happy to answer questions about Fujigaya as best as I can.”
Kitayama was disinterested in being placated, though Yokoo inwardly wished he’d taken a more level approach to broaching the subject. Kitayama, however, was not known for his subtlety. “Then start by telling me where the fuck he is.”
“I can’t tell you that,” the Commander replied quickly, shaking his head. “That’s classified… but I can assure you that he’s very safe.”
“Bullshit,” Kitayama snapped, reaching out to grab the man’s collar. “I will give you five seconds to tell me what’s going on and after that, you start losing body parts.”
“You’re threatening me--?”
“One.”
“But you can’t--!” the man blustered, trying to pry Kitayama’s hands off his front.
“Two.”
“Dammit, you are stepping out of bou-“
Kitayama swiftly broke his nose. “Three.”
“Goddammit!” the Commander howled, clutching his nose, blood pouring over his fingers.
“Four.”
“What do you want?” He was panicked, his eyes wide as Kitayama cocked his fist again.
Something cold pressed against his temple as a soft click sounded in his ear. “…H-how?” he gasped as Yokoo stood at his side, gun in hand. “You were scanned! They checked you! I watched…”
“Five.” Kitayama murmured, stepping back. “Where is he?”
Down the hallway, back where he’d left his men, Tamamori closed his eyes, smiling as he stood. All eyes were on him, and the smile took a slightly vicious edge. Kitayama had unsnapped their leashes, giving them free rein.
“Boom.”
~
He was dying, Fujigaya realized. He was cold, frozen, and he was dying.
Everything burned, but he was cold, so cold. But even the voice had stopped at this point, leaving him alone and empty in the dark. He hated it, the voice, hated it for hounding him and then hated it for leaving him in the dark, with nothing to show that he was still alive except the searing pain and his own ragged breathing.
He was going to die alone.
~
“You see,” Kitayama murmured as he pulled back, “Your mistake was not stripping us down naked when we arrived. You’ve heard of us, you know what we do, and yet you got complacent. You’re like a little queen in her fucking hive, thinking she’s all safe. You think we don’t know how to get past those kinds of scans?” There was nothing but derision and scorn in Kitayama’s voice. “Now answer my question.”
“You think you can just shoot me?” the man blustered. “There are two of you. You harm me and my men will get you befo-“
Yokoo shot him in the leg.
There was screaming and blood spilling onto the gleaming floor, Yokoo’s lip curling in loathing as blood splattered on his boot, moving to press the gun into the other leg. “I’ll do this one next,” he hissed. “And then I’ll take out a hand. And then the other. And then your mouth.”
The Commander was moaning in pain, eyes rolling in terror as Yokoo spoke. Kitayama watched from the other side of the desk, impassive.
Yokoo shot his other leg.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man howled, falling out of his chair, convulsing. Yokooo stood over him, taking aim again.
“He’s… the… here.” The man panted, whimpering in pain as Yokoo swung a foot out, slamming his boot into the man’s gut. “Goddamit, he’s here… On the wall. The keypad.”
Kitayama strode over to the wall to the left, which was just plain, chrome paneling except for the small keypad.
“8-1-4-1-9-0-0…” the Commander slowly counted out, eyes on Yokoo, trying to ease himself away.
Entering in the code, Kitayama took a step back as the four middle wall panels slowly eased away, revealing an observation glass.
“You son of a bitch,” he breathed out.
On a hospital bed, surrounded by wires, machinery, and orderlies, was Fujigaya Taisuke.
~
Everything had become a blinding, agonizing blank.
Was it time, Fujigaya wondered, to finally say goodbye?
~
He should have realized they’d catch on, but he’d been counting on having more time. The young man grimaced as he shed the outer black uniform jacket, heading back to the ventilation service room.
He hadn’t quite gotten what he wanted. But the Genesis Project could wait. It was just a bit of a disappointment, he’d gone through so much effort to get Fujigaya.
Hoisting himself through a vent, he began climbing.
~
Bodies littered the entrance, and Tamamori gave the scene a rather unimpressed look. “They didn’t even fire…”
“I’m sure they’ll regret it when they wake up,” Miyata replied, smiling with a soft shrug as he tried slicing into the building’s mainframe, using a security guard as a seat.
Tamamori made a noise in his throat, wondered if they got bonus points for not killing any of the security detail.
The elevator opened and Senga and Nikaido appeared, Senga dragging the two guards who’d been up in the garage. Nikaido was hauling his favorite rocket launcher, looking considerably happier.
“You really shouldn’t fire that in an underground building,” Miyata said over his shoulder.
“Whatever,” Nikaido shot back. “Kitayama gave the attack order, I’m just being prepared.”
Sighing, Tamamori checked the hallway again. “You know, Ryouta thinks you’re going to get us all killed when you blow up… betting 5000yen on it.”
“Shut up.”
“Oi.” Miyata, oldest of the current bunch and therefore somewhat in charge, cut into the exchange. “Senga, Nika, start securing the area.”
“Roger~!”
Tamamori was drifting in their wake, frowning a bit. “I’m going to go follow Kitayama and Yokoo, ne.” He tilted his head, hand to his ear. “Things just don’t… feel right.”
“Be careful,” Miyata warned over his shoulder.
“Right.”
~
Fujigaya wished he could still feel his heartbeat. There was nothing but the relentless waves of pain.
Maybe he’d already died.
He hadn’t wanted to die… not without saying goodbye. At least to his team.
His team…
It was all too painful, making it hard to concentrate, to think. Was he really dying? Somehow it should have been more peaceful, but the fire was in his bones now, licking and gnawing at him. Why couldn’t he just rest, finally?
~
If Kitayama hadn’t broken the Commander’s nose the first time, the second fist thrown had definitely done the job. He didn’t stop there, digging his fingers into the man’s bullet wounds, and Yokoo was sure that was just to hear him scream.
“Talk.” Kitayama’s voice was a harsh growl. “Now.”
“It was… a project,” the man gasped out. “We recovered… experimental technology from the Citadel… Mental conditioning… brainwashing… we gave him false information about troop movements… needed to see how it worked on our men… Agent… Agent Fujigaya fit our needs.”
Snarling, Kitayama snatched the gun out of his XO’s hand, pressing it to the man’s shoulder and pulling the trigger. (The walls must be sound-proofed, Yokoo realized. The orderlies in the room didn’t even move, hovering over his comrade in observation, kept blind by the one-way mirrorglass.) “You think you can just take my men and use them as your guinea pigs?” He pressed the gun to the Commander’s temple. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you now.”
“Please… please we just… needed…”
“Kitayama!” Tamamori appeared in the doorway, gun raised.
Yokoo shook his head quickly. Kitayama didn’t even look up, still staring down into eyes filled with terror.
“Yokoo… Tamamori… Get Fujigaya now.”
Yokoo didn’t quite get the door shut before Kitayama pulled the trigger again.
“What happened? Where’s Taipi?” Tamamori handed Yokoo another gun before scouting ahead.
Cocking the gun, Yokoo nodded at the next door down. “He’s in there.” It was keypadded as well, but there was no point in overriding it. Tamamori angled his gun and shot the lock off, moving to back Yokoo up as he kicked the door open. “Get down on the floor, now.”
~
Now that the voice was gone, Fujigaya was left with nothing but his own thoughts and the dull throbbing ache for company, and even the hurt seemed to be fading away.
Fading…
“Taisuke? Taisuke, can you hear me?”
Who was that…? Fujigaya knew that voice. It wasn’t the sickeningly mechanical voice from before. It was warm, real, even as it filtered through the dark.
“Taisuke, wake up…”
How could he wake up from death?
~
Kitayama appeared in the doorway, hands caked in blood, as Yokoo meticulously removed the implants from Fujigaya. The orderlies were in a corner, trussed up with wires and duct-tape. “How is he?”
Yokoo shrugged as he worked. Nothing seemed to be dug in or anything, and Fujigaya was stable… but he wasn’t responding. On the other side of the hospital bed, Tamamori held Fujigaya’s hand, calling out every now and then. “Taisuke… Come on, Taisuke. We’ve got to go home.”
Wiping his hands on the corner of the blanket covering Fujigaya, Kitayama leaned over him. “Fujigaya, if you don’t wake up, I swear, I am going to kill you now, bastard.” He had not just done all of that just for Fujigaya to be a vegetable.
Yokoo shot him a look, shaking his head. “Taisuke’ll wake up when he can… they had him in deep, it looks like.” And really, Yokoo probably shouldn’t have been taking things off, not knowing what they did, but it seemed to be going okay.
~
More voices… dying seemed to be rather noisy.
And lighter. Everything was going from pure, deepest black to a fuzzy sort of grey. The voices became distinct as feeling flooded his limbs. He knew those voices.
Yokoo. Kitayama. Tamamori.
“Guys…?” He tried to speak, and his voice came out as a croak, his throat raw.
~
Tamamori fell on his ass as the soft word came from Fujigaya’s lips, but Kitayama just stepped over him, not caring that his hands were still dirty as he curled his fingers behind Fujigaya’s head, bringing his gaze to him. “Fujigaya.”
Fujigaya’s eyes didn’t really open, just fluttered for a moment. He felt so fragile in Kitayama’s hands. Three weeks and it showed on his body, he was so thin. But then he spoke and Kitayama and Yokoo both leaned in close to catch the disjointed words.
“Thought… I died… never told them… about Genesis… pro-project…” There was a ghost of a smile on Fujigaya’s lips, or maybe Kitayama was just willing it to be there. “S-sorry, Leader.”
And he went still again.
“It’s okay,” Yokoo was quick to assure the other two, checking Fujigaya’s vitals again. Still stable. “But we need to get him out now.”
Tamamori bit his lip, hand resting on Fujigaya’s knee. “He’ll be okay?”
“I think-“
“He will be.” Kitayama spoke over Yokoo, a fire burning in his eyes. “Get him back to the van. Call Takizawa… he can come clean up this place.” The man would probably like that. “But… Send Nika over. I want this room destroyed.”
“But this is evidence…”
“I don’t care.” Kitayama stalked out of the room. “I want it gone. Now.”
Yokoo watched him leave as Tamamori carefully scooped Fujigaya up. “Aye aye… Leader.”
Senga was nice enough to remove the orderlies from the room before Nika rigged it to blow. He didn’t need anything big, but he timed it, giving them five minutes to get back to the surface before it went off.
Fujigaya was gently tucked between Senga and Tamamori as Yokoo scrambled into the driver’s seat, starting Kyon.
“Men,” Kitayama said with a grim smile that was tinged with relief. “Let’s go home.”
[Epilogue]
“Thank you for saving some leftovers for me,” Takizawa said as way of greeting. It was the same old café, with his favorite coffee in hand. “How’s he doing?”
Kitayama looked much more alive than he had their previous encounter, a smile on his lips as he sipped his coffee. “He’s still spending a lot of time unconscious… but he seems to be fully intact and mostly lucid when he’s awake, though sometimes he still doesn’t know where he is and gets panicked. But it’s only been a few days, they said it’ll take time.”
“That’s good~.” Humming, Takizawa glanced out of the window at the world bustling around them, before he turned back to Kitayama. “I suppose you know already… about the little snag we ran into.”
“Miyata told me when your reports came in.” Kitayama leaned back in his chair, tracing his fingertip over the table’s surface. “Lieutenant Sanada Yuma… of the Empire.” A man of the Citadel. The enemy.
“The Commander was never a very strong-willed man…” Takizawa observed, shrugging lightly as he thought about it. “But he had the connections to make things happen. This plan probably took years to actually launch, for them to get someone set in so deep to make it work.”
Kitayama set his coffee down, leaning forward to rest his chin on his joint fingers. “Tell me, Takizawa … What is the Genesis Project? Fujigaya mentioned it during extraction.”
With a look of surprise, Takizawa laughed. “Now that, my friend, is a very, very interesting question.”