The room was cold and grey, clean, sterile, empty except for the long rectangular desk and the people in black suits around it. On the table, lay a few files of documents, an ashtray, half-smoked cigarettes resting on it, and two guns, their blackness made them look almost fake. One woman stood out among the group. She opened a file in her hand and displayed it on the desk for the two men to see.

"This…" she pointed at the picture of a young man, his age barely twenty. "…is your target."

***

The cold wind bit into the exposed skin of his face and hands. He regretted not listening to Margaret and not wearing his gloves. Shinya stuffed his frozen hands into the deep pockets of his coat. His breath came in short sharp puffs and his cheeks were flushed red from the cold. His father used to forbid him from walking through the streets in winter. It was too cold, too dark and drab; danger lurked behind the shadows and in unknown corners. Anything could happen.

Well, Shinya merely shrugged when his father lectured him on that. He was not a girl, for God’s sake, and he would be celebrating his 20^th birthday in a couple of months! What could happen to him? His father had looked at him with an indiscernible expression on his weary face after hearing his reply.

But Shinya bet now, right now, at this precise moment when the heels of his black boots hit these icy pavement, that someone was following him, eyeing him. His eyes narrowed perceptibly, his fingers curling around the strap of his backpack cautiously. He sped up his steps, walking past a woman and her little child, and into an alleyway.

His footsteps resonated off the walls on either side of the dark narrow pathway. Bowing his head a little, Shinya gritted his teeth. It was soft but he could sense the person still.

The air was getting colder; the young man licked his lips, not wanting it to crack from the winter frigidness. The skies above him darken. And the feeling of that someone trailing him grew stronger by the second.

Shinya came to an abrupt stop. Without turning his head, he spoke. "Why are you following me?"

There came no answer except for the quiet scurrying of dirty rats in the drain and the water dripping off the leaking pipe.

" I know you are there." He took a deep breath. "Come out now or else I’ll run away."

Shinya’s threat was followed by silence then the silence was broken by a faint sound of ruffling and an awkward cough. "Young master."

" Why are you following me?" Shinya asked, already knowing the answer.

" Just ensuring your safety," the voice, rougher than his own, answered. He recognised it.

He turned around to face the man, dressed in a dull grey overcoat, buttoned to the top, and straight matching slacks. He had pale blonde hair, around the same length as Shinya’s own but cut in a different style, the strands straggly, unkempt, unlike Shinya’s finer, soft brown strands. His eyes were sharp and alert but they had softened since his young master was glaring daggers at him.

" Who instructed you, J? My father?" Shinya clutched the strap of his bag tightly. Why? His father never seemed to trust him, always thinking that he would put himself in some danger, always thinking that he couldn’t take care of himself…well, he damn well could! After all, his father was never around to take care of him! Of course he could take care of himself!

" Don’t you dare follow me!"

Anger sizzled inside him and he whirled around, breaking into a run.

" Young Master!!!" J called after the young man, swearing under his breath as he chased him but then losing him as the unrepentant young man faded into the crowd of people on the main street.

***

Die sleepily groaned as an arm slapped him across his face. Growling, he smacked Kyo’s hand away. The blanket they were both sharing provided insufficient warmth. A little too cold for his liking, Kyo latched onto the bigger body beside him, revelling in the human warmth it gave. They both fell peacefully asleep again until the sharp ringing of the phone disposed under the heap of dirty clothes pierced the atmosphere of the little flat they shared.

The redhead sat up, his face sewn in dissatisfaction, and sweeped the clothes off, answering the phone before it woke his friend up and he would never hear the end of it.

" Nn…" he drawled into the phone.

" Hello?" The phone line had static but Die heard him.

" What?"

" Cheery, aren’t we? Not working today?"

Die scowled, wishing his friend could see him. "Yep, Noisy." He sighed, settling on the blanket near Kyo’s legs. "Both of us are out of job now."

" Again? Oh, just as well, there’s vacancy here at the pub- interested?" Noisy offered, the static cutting his sentence here and there.

" Hontou ni! Great! Thanks, buddy!"

" Hey, call me back! I’ve gotta run now! Ja!" and the line went dead.

Die scratched his head, dropping back onto the futon, glad that at least he would have a job. He just had to know when…well, he’d call Noisy and…Die frowned. One eye peeking open, he reached out for the receiver and pressed a few buttons.

" Oh, great." They hadn’t paid their phone bill and the line had been cut.

***

The streetlights streamed in through the blinds as he pulled it down a little to look at the streets below. Below, a lonely young man was walking home…home from lectures, Kaoru noted. He chewed on the end of his cigarette, taking his pistol from above the file with the photo of the same young man. He traced the delicate face shape with the mouth of his gun, dropping the cigarette down on the floor and crushing it with his foot.

He read the name.

" Terachi Shinya."