It was one hot summer night, with the heat soaring to a whopping three digit scale. In his drunken stupor, Youji complained incoherently about the weather and life in general, as he staggered on with the help of the cool metal railing.

It had been six years since the last showdown between Weiss and Schwarz. After all that was over, with Takatori dead and rotting in his grave, Weiss disbanded and all of them went their separate ways. Aya is still the same old money minded guy that he had always been. Even though he’s now a professionally trained assassin, pocketing thousands for each mission, he still accepts the occasional odd jobs that Manx assigned him to. As for the youngest, Omi is working as some big-shot under SuperChip, this billion-dollar-earning computer company. Among the four of them, Ken was the luckiest. Not only did he get to join back J-League, his girlfriend, Yukiko, got back from Australia about a year after they’ve moved on and he finally got the courage to propose to her. They’re now happily married with three children.

He envied all of them, with their great careers and happy lives. Whatever went wrong with his? He cursed and took a swig from the bottle of Jack Daniels that he held in one hand, then took one last puff from the cigarette on his other, carelessly flicking the butt onto the pavement. He leaned on the railing of the overhead bridge for support as he raked a hand through his tangled and overgrown chestnut hair, which reached his back now. He figured that he must look very much dishevelled.

Maybe that’s why he got fired from the investigation firm. Maybe that’s why Aiko, his most recent girlfriend, had thrown him out from her apartment, the place that he had lodged in for 5 months or so. He could still hear his ex-boss’ complaints about his vile temper and his unhealthy habits. And he could still hear Aiko screaming a string of obscenities while she chucked his belongings out at him. He couldn’t figure out how he got himself in such a mess in the first place.

Somewhere behind him, a rich velvety laughter rang forth. It was a man’s voice. "Sah, Kudou. You are a mess," he said. Surprised at the mention of his name, Youji whirled around, a little too fast in his drunken state, and he saw the world around him spin like a roulette. Neon colours went swirling past before everything became a huge mass of blur.

He felt himself fall and couldn’t do anything. He heard the man mutter a quick curse and felt warm hands on his back, supporting his weight. Then, as if on cue, his senses totally shut down, and he passed out.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Verdant-green eyes slowly fluttered open, then squinted at the bright sunlight that greeted it. Youji stared dumbly at the Japanese styled ceiling, complete with a Japanese square lamp, with pretty little flower patterns on the sides, hanging in the middle of it. His fingers massaged his temple. His head was throbbing painfully, like someone had decided to use his brains as Play-Doh.

With very much effort and will-power, he managed to look at his surroundings. The room was very Japanese and traditional, complete with wooden floor boards and paper-thin sliding doors, that were supported by wooden frames. On the wall opposite him were bonsai plants, one on each corner. They were both placed on embroidered silk cushions that sat perfectly on knee-height wooden square stools.

Youji turned to his right. The sliding door was open, and rays of golden sunlight seeped in and filled the room. He could see a beautiful garden just outside, with various plants strewn around like the cherry blossom trees, the wild bamboo's and countless other brightly coloured ones, whose names he had forgotten, considering the fact that he had once worked in a flower shop for 4 years. He strained his eyes to see that there was also a man-made pond, complete with a wooden bridge over it, delicately carved patterns covered it’s wooden railings. Youji blinked. Not even his deceased parents could be that meticulous with those carvings.

In the midst of his thinking, he didn’t hear the sliding door to his left open, and someone ventured in. "I see that you’ve awaken," a man said. Youji turned to his left, eager to thank this kind man who took him in for the night. But upon seeing this man, the colour drained from his face and all words of gratitute flew right off the open door. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, only to feel his world spin and his knees weaken and crumbled beneath. He fell down on the futon with a loud ‘plop’. He muttered a curse and rubbed at his temple.

The man laughed. He pried Youji’s fingers away and placed a cold wet towel on his head, smoothening his messy brown locks back in the process. "You don’t have to be so afraid, Kudou," the man voiced. "Schwarz have disbanded just as Weiss had. We’re no longer enemies," he continued, the corners of his mouth tugged upwards as he stroked the other’s hair.

Youji eyed him curiously. Not only did he look different, the feel of him, his aura was completely the opposite of who he was when in Schwarz. Six years was a long time and people do change but the change in this man was absolutely dramatic. Back then, Youji would have felt unnerved around him and somewhat scared, but now all that he felt was a fuzzy warm feeling, the sense that he’s safe washed over him, and he nodded. He passed the wet towel back to the man and slowly sat up, making sure that his brains didn’t start another bout of headache on him. Resting his back against the wall, he silently accepted the cup of warm water offered. "You’ve changed, Schuldich" he commented as he sipped on his beverage.

"Have I?" The German asked with a genuine smile as he closed his eyes, bent his head down and started gathering his mass of red hair in his hands and piled them high up on his head, one hand reaching for a piece of red cord in his jeans pocket and tied it. Strands of hair still escaped the pony-tail to fall over his eyes and he brushed them aside. He looked up to see Youji looking at him in amusement. Schuldich grinned and placed his hands on his thighs. "Tell me, in what sense have I changed?"

Youji took in Schuldich’s features. It had been years and the German still looked the same, yet not quite. He was wearing a white cotton shirt and faded blue jeans. His lustrous red locks were as long as before, if not longer and surprisingly it was less wilder than it had years ago. His jade-green eyes had maintained their glint of mischief but they seem to have grown more softer, more compassionate. His moist full lips was as inviting as ever. Overall, Schuldich still had that feminine look to him.

Schuldich chuckled. "After all these years and you still think that I look like a woman."

Youji frowned. In that sense, he didn’t change one bit. Schuldich still loved to pluck people’s thoughts from their minds. He was about to caution the German when his stomach growled viciously, reminding him that he had been devoid of food since last night’s dinner. Blood rushed to his cheeks and tainted them a pale shade of pink as he quickly covered a hand over his stomach in embarrassment.

Without saying a word, Schuldich took the clay cup from Youji and placed it on his wooden tray, along with the wet towel. Taking the tray with him, Schuldich stood up and cocked his head, motioning for Youji to follow him. Patiently he waited for the other to get up and steady his dizzy spells. When Youji was about to fall again, Schuldich’s free hand instantly shot out and grabbed his arm, pulling him up.

Youji thanked him and straightened himself. "Don’t mention it," the redhead had said before he walked out of the room, knowing that the other would follow. Obediently, Youji tagged along behind Schuldich as the German showed him where the washroom was and ushered him in. After having to go off to put the tray away in the kitchen, Schuldich returned to help Youji set the water, and went to rummage in the cupboards for a new toothbrush and towels. The redhead even went to the extreme of going to the nearby shopping mall and buying new clothes for his guest while he was taking his bath.

While waiting for Youji to finish cleaning himself up, Schuldich set up the task of making lunch. It was half past eleven and he couldn’t help but stare at the seconds on his watch ticking by as he rolled the rice. "He should be home soon," Schuldich muttered to himself, smiling dreamily. Maybe he should make something special for the three of them, since it had been a long time ago when they had last seen each other, he thought to himself. So off he went hunting in his refrigerator for the ingredients for his ‘Schuldich Ala Special’.

Youji wandered aimlessly around the huge house, obviously lost. Rubbing his hair with a woollen towel, he passed the kitchen, then backtracked. He leaned on the door frame and stared. There, rummaging through all the stuff in the refrigerator was Schuldich, bent over in a very inviting position with a hand on his knee, his jeans tightened in all the right places. Schuldich muttered something about fresh salmons and octopuses. Youji grinned and stared for a bit.

"Nice ass," he finally commented.

The German turned back with that trademark smirk of his, cocked an eyebrow and asked. "I guess that’s a compliment?"

Youji laughed and stepped in the kitchen. "Take it as you wish."