Bankai Wing: When Shinigami Meet (part 2 of 2)

[melredcap]

----------

=C’mon, King,= Shirosaki purred. =I won’t hurt the nummy treat. Just a lick!=

No, Ichigo thought firmly, watching as the short blond teen whispered into a small walkie-talkie or something similar. No licking! You’d give the poor guy a heart attack. And did you have to start calling them that? You’ve got Mayuri doing it now!

=…=

What?

=…I’m not sure whether I’m proud or horrified,= Shirosaki muttered.

I’m going for ‘massively creeped out’, personally. Shifting his weight on the branch he was perched on, Ichigo glanced sideways at the nearest Twelfth Squad member. The small shinigami had porcupine quills instead of hair and was wrapped awkwardly around a branch, clinging on for dear life, but he was grinning like a loon and chortling under his breath.

“Good scan?” Ichigo murmured.

“Perfect!” the scientist whispered back, waving a multi-pronged antenna at him. “Perfect placement, Captain Kurosaki. Couldn’t be better if we’d sent Treat 2 an engraved invitation!”

Ichigo stared blankly at him for a moment, then turned to watch the teenager again. I give up. They’re treats. Everyone’s doing it. It’s on official paperwork, even. See what you caused?

=Switching back to ‘proud’ now,= his Hollow snickered. =And they are so very, very nummy. You sure about that lick?=

Positive. No licking.

=Fine.= Shirosaki sighed, then pushed himself forward, an almost physical pressure behind Ichigo’s eyes. =At least let me get another good sniff before the buffet walks out of range, hey? If they’ve got all the scans creepazoid wants, I might not get another chance.=

Ichigo hesitated, then shrugged. Fair enough. Knock yourself out. He relaxed and the Hollow pushed forwards again, not far enough to take control or visibly affect him, but far enough to get better access to his senses. Like this, he could get an echo of what the little blond felt like to Shiro, the perfect meal laid out in front of a starving man who couldn’t -- quite -- reach it, and he shivered.

=Hrrrrmmmm.= The noise Shirosaki made was midway between a growl and a moan, and Ichigo’s eyes widened as the blond human jerked to a stop barely ten feet away from the tree he was standing in.

…Shiro? he thought tentatively. I think he heard you.

=No way. Can’t have,= Shirosaki replied incredulously. =Okay, maybe I pushed a little hard, he might have felt me a bit, but he’d have to be damn sharp to sense anything through all the kidou you’ve got layered on you, and-- huh. I guess the nummy treat is pretty sharp,= he went on slowly, =because I think he sees us.=

----------

There was a ghost in the tree.

Quatre squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and looked again. The ghost was still there, indistinct around the edges and harder to bring into focus than anything else supernatural he’d seen so far, but feeling far more real.

So why didn’t I feel him before? he thought nervously. Was he hiding? ‘In ambush’, part of his mind supplied helpfully, and he shivered. The ghost didn’t have a mask, but for a few seconds there it had felt like he should.

He didn’t have a chain dangling from his chest, either; his feet were planted solidly on the branch instead of drifting above it, and he wasn’t dressed in everyday clothes the way ghosts tended to be. Instead, he was wearing a long white sleeveless open coat over a black outfit that looked archaic and Japanese, in complete contrast to his shock of spiky orange hair. There was something on his back that might be an impossibly huge sword wrapped in a cloth, ridiculous as that seemed, and--

--and he was staring straight back at Quatre with a surprised expression on his face.

Quatre shivered again. ‘Normal’ ghosts also didn’t usually pay attention to the living, and it certainly didn’t feel this ominous when they did.

There ware dark flickers in other trees, and he resisted the urge to back away as more black-clad ghosts wavered into view. Some were dressed like the orange-haired one, minus the white coat; one seemed to be wearing a lab coat; others were wearing form-fitting black clothes like stereotypical movie ninjas, and Quatre decided that he would really like to stop seeing new and unusual things every time he turned around thank you very much!

He and the orange-haired ghost might have kept staring at each other for quite a while if the white-masked Things lurking near his first escape route hadn’t picked that moment to rouse, the queasy-painful feeling of their presence swelling into something far more immediately threatening. The ghost looked that way instantly, right hand going up over his shoulder as the white cloth twirled away from, yes, that was definitely an immense sword; then he snorted and looked back at Quatre.

“Keep going,” he said, and the feeling of his presence was suddenly a lot friendlier. “We’ve got this.” Then he was gone, flickering out of view too fast to follow.

There were black shadows keeping pace with Quatre in the trees beside the path as he ran. He did his best to ignore them.

----------

“This was not in the plan,” Duo muttered, running along the narrow, twisting path at breakneck speed -- possibly literally breakneck speed if he tripped on something in the dim light, but slowing down didn’t seem to be a good idea. “Dogs are cheating. They weren’t meant to be chasing me at all, but if they’ve got to try it then they should do it themselves, not bring in the damn dogs. I didn’t even know they had dogs! Kennels were not listed on the base maps!”

=Perhaps their lax attitude towards computer security carries over into their data update policy?= Deathscythe suggested, running beside him.

“Shit!” Duo lurched sideways and ricocheted off a tree, stumbling a few steps before getting back in his stride. “When did you show up?! And why are you turning up so much lately?”

=I never went away,= the spirit said cryptically, effortlessly keeping pace. =As for why you’re seeing me right now… can’t you feel them yet?=

“‘Them’? ‘Them’ who? Oh, don’t tell me, let me guess. Which ‘them’ do I really need to not turn up tonight?” Duo sighed. “That ‘them’. Pardon me if I don’t break out the pompoms.”

’Scythe didn’t reply, and Duo slowed to a jog, biting his lip as he concentrated. Oh yeah, there they are. Great. Now what?

“Can’t go back,” he muttered, glancing sideways at Deathscythe. Distant barking proved his point better than any number of words. “Going sideways is just going to get me stuck in one of those glorious blackberry tangles that’ve taken over out here, or possibly eaten by kudzu, at which point the dogs will get to snack on whatever the thorns leave behind after they catch up. Not much in the way of options, hey?”

=Not really.= Deathscythe tilted his head to one side, black hair swinging away from his eye patch, and smiled. =So?=

“Masks to the front of me, OZzies to the back, here I am, stuck in the middle with you,” Duo half-sang, grinning. “Straight ahead it is. Got any advice on how I can do that ‘putting my heart into the strike’ thing you were talking about?”

----------

“Their numbers are increasing,” the lead onmitsu murmured, voice barely carrying to Renji’s ears.

“Yeah,” he muttered back, surveying the collection of Hollows in the bowl-shaped clearing below him. There were already at least twenty assembled there, including one hulking shape half-buried in a muddy spot; Renji eyed that one warily, wishing he could feel its reiatsu better. Between the Hollow’s efforts to hide and his own suppressed energy, he couldn’t get a solid grasp on it, but it felt even more ‘wrong’ than normal.

=That one is close to becoming a Menos,= Zabimaru’s baboon-voice growled in the back of his mind.

…That’s what I thought, he agreed, scowling. Gillian?

=Perhaps. It feels individual enough that it might manage to become an Adjuchas instead,= his sword mused.

=Take it out first,= Hebi hissed. =Take it out now.=

The Hollows aren’t what we’re meant to be ambushing here.

=Oh, so we’re just gonna watch ’em eat the nummy treat? As if!=

I didn’t say that--

=Good,= the baboon-voice rumbled, =because the treat is on its way here.=

I swear, I’m gonna find out their names just so I can stop people calling them that!

The snake snickered, and Renji rolled his eyes. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I’ll do it, you just watch me.

“According to our previously collected data,” the female scientist whispered, “Treat 1 should be within range to sense the Hollows soon. If it follows established behavioural patterns, it will then retreat; are we to pursue, Captain Abarai?”

“Yeah.” Renji nodded to the onmitsu. “Same division of escort and extermination parties as before, and leave the big Hollow to me. We ain’t leaving that one to get nastier.”

=Damn straight,= Hebi muttered.

“Treat 1 has slowed down,” one of the scientists murmured, squinting at his screen. Around the clearing, Shinigami tensed, preparing for action.

“…Treat has sped up again.”

Still coming this way? Renji’s head snapped up as he tried to peer through the trees toward the oncoming bright reiatsu. Why? They can’t not feel the Hollows now, why head straight for--

“Gangway! Clear a path! Shinigami comin’ through!”

--what?

A slender form dressed all in black burst out of the trees, running straight for the Hollows… which all turned towards it like sharks scenting blood. The biggest one reared up out of the mud with an obscene squelching noise, tentacles unfurling from beneath it, and bellowed.

“Ohhhh shit,” the running human said in almost cheerful tones. “Man you fuckers are huge; twenty guys with guns and dogs doesn’t seem like such a bad idea now. Too late. Here we go, ’Scythe!”

Renji stood frozen, mouth agape, as the human charged straight into the middle of the Hollows, dodging strikes and insulting their aim. A long plait whipped behind him as he ran -- “Oh you do not try to grab the hair, dude!” -- but the voice was very definitely male; he hadn’t been hit yet, Hollows were crashing into each other as they tried to grab him, several had started to fight as they got in each other’s way and the human was making a beeline for the biggest--

=We gonna help or not?= Hebi asked abruptly, snapping Renji out of his daze.

“Fuck. Escorts stay with the scientists,” he snapped, drawing his blade. “Everyone else, back each other up, don’t get bogged down, and the big one’s mine. Get ’em!”

----------

“Howl, Zabimaru!”

What the-- holy shit it’s the whateverthefuckthatwas from the last mission! Duo staggered as the fire-hot presence made itself known, Deathscythe vanished with a startled noise, and the momentary distraction was all it took for one of the lunging monsters to land a solid hit.

In a way, it was lucky; a second monster jumping in from the side missed Duo’s head and bit down on the hand that had just slapped him into a tree instead, distracting monster-the-first from following through with a bite of its own. From the perspective of someone who’d just tried to fly through the aforementioned tree shoulders-first, however, it was difficult to properly appreciate it.

“Duo, meet tree,” he muttered, mouth on autopilot as he struggled to focus. “Tree, meet Duo. Play nice… ow.” He’d lost a knife in the collision, but he had spares -- he always had spares -- and he reached for the sheath in his boot as he looked up to see a mouth full of teeth descending towards him.

A segmented blade lashed down, chopping the mask and the body behind it into pieces, then snaked back together with a series of metallic noises as each section clicked into place. It was a mean-looking sword, spikes on every segment making it look like it had fangs, and Duo had an excellent view as its wielder stepped protectively in front of him.

“Dude,” he snickered, looking up from his position on the ground. “You look like something out of Rurouni Kenshin. At least you aren’t wearing pink, it’d totally clash with your hair, not that that ever stopped Kenshin…”

The red-haired man spun around to face him, eyes wide, displaying an impressive collection of tattoos that seemed to be a stylised representation of his sword’s shape. “You-- you can see me?!”

“Well duh,” Duo snorted, starting to lever himself up with a groan. “You’re right there. Plus it feels like I’m gonna get a sunburn just standing next to you,” he added, resisting the urge to squint.

“Uh. Sorry,” the redhead stuttered, still looking flummoxed.

“Hey, given that you just saved my ass I’m not gonna complain,” he shrugged. “Nice sword, by the way.”

“…thanks?”

The guy was still staring at Duo like he had two heads, and given that he wasn’t the one dressed like a reject from a shounen manga and holding a magical stretching sword, it was starting to grate on his nerves just a bit. Being Duo, he went on the attack.

“While I realise that I’m devilishly handsome and probably the sexiest thing you’ve seen in years,” he said sarcastically, “could we save the ogling for after all the bitey monsters are dead? --Like that one,” he added hastily, pushing away from the tree and throwing himself sideways as something froglike crashed past the redhead towards him.

The guy with the sword swore, chopping the frog and the tree down together, and Duo had a moment to see what was going on around them. Black-clad figures were everywhere -- more manga rejects, he decided, a mix of ninja and monochrome Shinsengumi -- fighting the mask monsters with an assortment of oddly-shaped swords.

“Sorry,” the guy apologised again, clearing his throat as he turned to scan the melee. “The living generally can’t see us, so it’s a bit of a shock when it happens-- actually, no, it doesn’t happen, so ‘shock’ really doesn’t cover it,” he finished in a grumpy voice.

“Seriously? Never happens?”

“Seriously.” The guy eyed him, raised eyebrows making the tattoos on his forehead move, and Duo couldn’t help grinning back.

“Yeah, well Shinigami’s special, man.”

For some reason that got another startled look, but Duo had more important things to worry about. “Whoa. Cthulhu at two o’clock,” he pointed out, flipping his knives into a ready position.

----------

Is he calling himself a Shinigami -- no, just Shinigami, no ‘a’? Renji wondered, staring at the crazy human. Going up against Hollows with no zanpakutou, just a pair of mundane knives, completely blasé about seeing both Hollows and Shinigami… the kid was nuts!

=Never mind that,= baboon-Zabimaru interrupted. =What’s he calling Cthulhu?=

Renji turned to look. Ah. That would be the big Hollow with all the tentacles, I’m guessing.

=So why ‘Cthulhu’?=

If he sticks around long enough I’ll ask, okay? “You stay back,” he said aloud, flicking Zabimaru to one side and extending the blade in preparation for his first strike.

“Happy to let the man with the bigger weapon go first!” the teenager told him, mock-saluting. He muttered something else, sounding like “I wish I had my scythe,” but Renji was already jumping forwards.

The tentacled Hollow was fast despite its bulk, jerking to one side and only losing the tip of one limb instead of taking the first blow in the centre of its mask, but the strike at least succeeded in focussing its attention on Renji. The other Shinigami present had taken their cue from him and were making sure that their opponents couldn’t break through to threaten the human, so that was one less thing to worry about. He wondered for a moment where the scientists had gotten to, but a quick look over his shoulder soon located them, perched like vultures in a tree near the treat -- the human, he corrected himself firmly as Hebi snickered in the back of his mind -- dangling sensors in his direction and chortling together over their readouts. Then the Hollow lashed out at him again, and he had no more attention to spare for anyone else.

This thing’s got more tentacles than Matsumoto’s bag of dried squid had last time we went drinking, he snorted to himself, carving a few more off as the Hollow’s main bulk dodged again.

=It’s a pain fighting it like this,= Hebi grumbled. =Even limited, one Baboon Bone Cannon would take it out.=

You wanna go Bankai with the kid right there? We’d fry him with our reiatsu alone even if he didn’t get splash damage from the beam, Renji objected.

=…Point,= Hebi sniffed. =Don’t wanna fry the nummy treat; he looks like fun.=

Cut that out, will you?!

=Why?=

Zabimaru’s snake-voice sounded genuinely bewildered, and Renji sputtered, next strike going a bit haywire. For a moment he thought it was going to miss completely, but the Hollow shuffled sideways at the wrong moment and lost another tentacle, backing away with a low moan.

Saru, you wanna explain it to him? Renji asked plaintively, directing the thought at the baboon side of Zabimaru’s personality, and got a deep chuckle back.

=No.=

Figures, he sighed, pressing forward after his retreating opponent. I get no respect.

The Hollow lost two more tentacles, and the snake-voice snickered. =We’re going to peck this thing to death without even chipping its mask,= he muttered. =Dumb thing isn’t even bright enough to look worried.=

Something about that seemed off to Renji, and he hesitated, sword clicking back into its shorter configuration. The Hollow stopped retreating, eyeing him with no sign of fear -- no sign of pain, either, despite having lost nearly a quarter of its bulk, now lying around the battlefield in twitching pieces.

=…It’s still got just as many tentacles as it started out with,= baboon-Zabimaru pointed out uneasily, =and it’s not bleeding…=

“Look out!”

The warning came from the human behind him, and Renji spun around with Zabimaru at the ready, just in time to be smacked backwards into the Hollow instead of being thrown into it face-first. The various disconnected tentacles had joined up into a tangled net and leapt back to the main body, trapping him and at least two of the onmitsu, judging by the muffled swearing somewhere to his left. Zabimaru was equally trapped in the stretchy web, and he could feel himself starting to sink deeper into the Hollow’s squishy flesh.

Damn thing wasn’t dodging, it was strategising, he realised, struggling to get a hand free, and I don’t think it’s going to be as easy to cut this time… He was going to have to go Bankai, he decided, and hope that the human was far enough away to handle the reiatsu overflow.

“Spit ’em out, asshole!”

Or not.

The long-haired teenager was suddenly in his face, moving faster than anything mortal he’d ever seen before, grabbing at the webbing around Renji’s chest with one hand and trying to hack at it with a knife.

“Idiot! Back off, you can’t hurt it like that! Get away before it eats you, moron!”

The boy hesitated for a moment but didn’t run; he blinked, frowned slightly, and then nodded. “Right,” he muttered, licking his lips. “Heart, huh? This better work.”

His reiatsu flared, bright lively surface suddenly augmented by a darker, more serious force, and his knife was surrounded with a purplish-black aura as he brought it down again. The fleshy webbing shrivelled away from the contact like a spiderweb touched by a flame, dropping Renji and the onmitsu on their asses, and the Hollow screeched, flopping clumsily away.

=Now can we kill it, before it comes up with any more stupid Hollow tricks?= Hebi snapped. =If the human can do that he can take a little pressure!=

Ha! Renji grinned as he rolled to his feet, and felt Zabimaru’s surprise.

=Ha what?=

You stopped calling him ‘treat’, he snickered, and pushed his reiatsu to the limits of the seal restraining it.

“Bankai! Baboon King Zabimaru!”

As it turned out, snake-Zabimaru had been overestimating the Hollow’s strength a little; it only took a couple of bites and one head-butt from the sword’s released form to finish it off, after which Zabimaru settled back into its coiled ready position around Renji, skull rearing above his head and radiating smugness.

“…Nice snake,” the human said, a little wild-eyed but otherwise doing a good job of pretending to be calm.

“He is, isn’t he?” Renji said proudly. Zabimaru rattled its segments, preening a little.

“Definitely impressive,” the human agreed, sticking one finger in his ear and wiggling it around a bit. “Likely to send you deaf if he screams like that all the time--”

=Oi!=

Shaddap. It’s true, isn’t it?

=Still! Hmph.=

“--but way cool even so, and why didn’t you do that before Cthulhu got all rubber-band-y on your ass?”

“Because Zabimaru gets a bit carried away sometimes, and I was worried about frying your skinny ass,” Renji told him bluntly.

=Oh, sure, blame us,= Saru pouted.

“Speaking of motivations, what the hell did you think you were doing, running in like that?”

“Hey, I saved your butt, don’t complain!”

“No, before that,” Renji elaborated, waving the hand that wasn’t holding Zabimaru’s hilt. “Why’d you come charging in right at the start? You had to know the Hollows were here, so why not avoid ’em?”

“Hollows? Is that what they’re called? Huh.” The human looked around at the trashed clearing, now populated only by silently watching onmitsu (and three ecstatic scientists, but they were keeping their transports of delight fairly quiet). “I didn’t really have a choice; I was kind of running away from-- oh. Uh. Yeah. I should probably get back to that. ’Bye!”

“…Well,” Renji said slowly after the human had disappeared back into the trees, dismissing Zabimaru back into its sealed form. “I don’t know what I expected when we started looking for this guy, but that was not it.”

“Captain Abarai!” The scientists were now crawling around in the remains of the tree the human had been thrown into, and one of them had pounced triumphantly on a splintered branch end. “We have a blood sample!”

“And hair!” another announced, still nose-down in the debris but waving one hand in the air. “This is wonderful!”

“Good to hear. You just… keep doing your thing, there, and let me know when you’re finished, okay? In the meantime--”

“What the hell was he doing here?” a new voice cut in, a little shaky with tension. Bobbing lights were visible through the trees, and something whined.

“It didn’t sound like a Gundam taking off,” someone else said doubtfully, “or explosives. The dogs are going nuts!”

“So he did something as a distraction, and it worked,” a third, harder voice snapped. The speaker stepped out into the clearing and scanned his devastated surroundings, torch and gun tracking together. “Get the dogs past it and they’ll pick up his trail again fast enough!”

The rest of the uniformed squad sidled out after him, looking around nervously at the mess. Several of them were half-dragging reluctant dogs that whined and tried to back away as the Shinigami came into view, but the humans’ eyes passed over the spirits without reacting.

Which is a good thing, I guess, Renji decided, scratching his chin thoughtfully. I’m really not ready for humans in general to start seeing us all over the place…

“Sir?” the leader of the onmitsu squad murmured, stepping up to stand at Renji’s side. “Should we prevent their pursuit?”

“I wanna,” he muttered, “but deliberate interference with oblivious living humans…”

“…is a crime,” the onmitsu finished with a sigh.

Renji grinned evilly as a thought struck him, and the masked shinigami looked sideways at him. “Captain Abarai?”

“Well, we can't do anything, so never mind,” he said innocently, turning his back on the oncoming humans. “Back to our duty!”

“Duty is, of course, paramount,” the onmitsu agreed, looking a little dubious.

“So we should check to see if there are any more Hollows in the vicinity before we return to Seireitai, right?”

“A sensible precaution, Captain Abarai. We can search--”

“Naaah, don’t waste your effort like that,” Renji drawled, feeling his grin widen. “I’ll just have a look.” And he released his reiatsu, letting it blast out into the surrounding area.

The dogs went nuts, breaking loose from their handlers and running yelping into the woods, heading back for home and their safe kennels. The humans swore, scattering to chase the dogs, and the pursuit squad’s cohesion dissolved into chaos.

“Nope,” Renji said thoughtfully, looking back at the onmitsu. “No Hollows nearby.”

“…That’s very good to hear, Captain Abarai,” he said solemnly, and turned away to assemble his squad members in preparation for departure.

=Darn,= baboon-Zabimaru said thoughtfully.

What’s wrong?

=You didn’t ask him what ‘Cthulhu’ meant.=

----------

Later, back in Seireitai, Renji and Ichigo presented their reports to a hastily-convened Captains’ meeting. Not everyone was present -- Kurotsuchi Mayuri, for one, was secluded in his lab poring over the scanner readings and samples brought back by his squad members -- but those that were found their information disquieting to say the least.

“If things are left as they are, sooner or later a Hollow is going to catch them,” Ichigo said grimly. “The one Renji met might have enough control over his reiatsu to get in one or two hits, and the one I saw has really good perceptions, but that won’t save them from what’s after them forever. They’re too strong to go unnoticed, they don’t know how to hide -- if they’re eaten, either some Hollows are going to get a serious power boost, or they’ll Hollowify themselves, at which point they could be a serious problem.”

“Indeed,” the Captain-General sighed. “Captain Kurotsuchi’s initial report states that they have comparable strength to a later-year Academy student, or an inexperienced Shinigami. Even leaving aside our moral imperative to protect the living, allowing them to be Hollowified would be extremely unwise. Suggestions?”

“Bodyguards?” Soi Fon shrugged.

“We don’t have the spare manpower,” Komamura rumbled. “Certainly not if they are to have guards strong enough to defeat the number and level of Hollows being drawn to them. Almost Adjuchas-level, you said, Abarai-kun?”

Renji grimaced. “Yeah, and they’d know they were being watched, too. Ichigo’s one saw him before he dropped his kidou.”

“Train ’em to shield themselves,” Zaraki suggested. “Train ’em to fight, too. Ain’t like we don’t got precedent,” he added, grinning at Ichigo.”

“It’s not exactly a common precedent,” Ukitake said slowly, “but…”

Kuchiki Byakuya raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Given the upheaval caused last time, I’m reluctant to support that idea.”

“Hey, at least this time it’d be legal and on purpose!” Ichigo grinned at him, then shook his head. “I didn’t exactly have anything better to do at the time, and even so Rukia -- Vice-Captain Kuchiki -- had to argue me into it. From what Renji saw, these guys are fighting a war already. Even if they want to learn, they likely don’t have the time.”

The shortest captain snorted, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re all missing the most obvious option,” he noted, rolling his eyes.

Everyone turned to look at him. “Oh? Would you care to elaborate, Captain Hitsugaya?” Ukitake asked politely.

“They need to hide. Fine.” Hitsugaya shrugged. “Nobody said they have to manage it by themselves.”

* * * * *

Two weeks later, after yet another dual mission, Duo and Quatre made their weary way back to their newest safehouse.

“Think we’re done for a while?” Duo yawned, checking the telltales they’d placed on the door before unlocking it.

“I hope so,” Quatre muttered, uncharacteristically grumpy. “Heero and Trowa are back tomorrow, Wufei should finish his current mission next week, and quite frankly if we don’t get at least a few days off I for one am going to refuse any new missions on grounds of exhaustion!”

“Ooh, mutiny,” Duo grinned. “I’ll be right there beside you with a knife in my teeth, yelling ‘arrr’ in all the appropriate--” He stopped in mid-sentence, staring at a small paper package on the low table in front of the couch, and Quatre nearly ran into his back.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s been in here,” Duo whispered, looking around. “That wasn’t there when we left. Bail out?”

“…Check first. One of the others might be back early.”

“They woulda let us know so’s we wouldn’t accidentally shoot ’em,” Duo muttered, but joined Quatre in a fast check of the other rooms, gun in hand. Search over, they returned to the living room.

“Nobody’s here, and there’s no sign of forced entry anywhere that I could see,” Duo reported, holstering his gun but leaving one hand hovering ready near it.

“Ditto.” Quatre eyed the innocuous-looking paper, folded to approximately the size of a long, thin envelope. “Are we going to see what that is, or just run?”

“Well, I’m curious enough to look,” Duo smirked, and picked it up, holding it at arms’ length as he flipped open the first fold. A moment later, he laughed and relaxed, flopping onto the couch with a relieved sigh. “Phew! False alarm, Quat, no OZ booby traps here.”

“What is it?” Quatre asked, holstering his own gun and moving to join Duo on the couch.

Grinning, the long-haired pilot pointed to a stylised drawing of two swords, one jagged like a saw, the other shaped like a very large butchers’ knife with hardly any hilt. “Tats-man was carrying that sword,” he explained, “so I’m guessing your orange-haired guy’s sword is this one?”

“…We got a letter from ghosts?!” he asked incredulously.

“Looks like it! Let’s see what they’ve got to say,” Duo shrugged, unfolding the long piece of paper further.

Something dropped out of one of the folds as he reached a section with writing on it, and Quatre picked them up; two small cloth bags with something hard inside them, tied firmly shut with beaded cords. They tingled in his fingers as he held them, and he frowned, examining them more closely.

“Huh. ‘Carry these, and most Hollows won’t be able to find you’,” Duo read out. “That’s all, no signature, nothing else. Would it have killed them to write more? ‘Hi guys’,” he sing-songed, “‘sorry for nearly giving you a heart attack by showing up like that, it was nice meeting you. We should do dinner some time’?”

“If these actually work,” Quatre breathed, “they could stick one to my forehead with a nail gun and I’d smile and thank them.”

“…Oookay, you have a point,” Duo admitted, dropping the paper onto the table and turning his attention to the objects in Quatre’s hands. “No more looking gift horses in the mouth from me, I promise. --What, they gave us o-mamori? They really are out of a manga or something!”

“You’re the one who reads them all the time,” the blond pilot snorted. “You’d know better than me. They certainly feel like they’re doing something,” he added.

“Hey, I’m willing to give ’em a try. Which one d’you want?”

“This one,” Quatre said without any hesitation, holding up the one that was made from blue-embroidered gold brocade. “It… feels right, even beyond the colouring, and this one ‘feels’ like yours.”

“Purple on black? Stylish,” Duo snickered.

“Emo,” Quatre corrected him sweetly, and dodged a swat.

==========