Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ A Difference of Sides ❯ :two: ( Chapter 2 )

**Disclaimer** Digimon doesn't belong to me. Damn. There goes my year. However-the plot and the storyline DO belong to me. Steal, and rabid guttermonkeys will hunt you down. This story contains a lot of language, a lot of implied situations, and it *will* be yaoi. It will be sex between two boys, two men, etc. two of the same sex, got it?

You will most likely see this story under another name, under another site. (mainly my alter ego.) Don't worry…it's supposed to happen. Fate is a fickle thing.

Thanks to Aphrael-sama, who managed to go over this late late at night, sanku very much!

A Difference of Sides

:two:

Footsteps. Running pounding footsteps. Breath, harsh and stifled, held back behind clenched teeth.

"Come on!" a breathless whisper.

A wordless mutter in reply, low and annoyed. The footsteps slowed, pausing at the intersection, and the night filled up with carefully silent breathing.

"We can't shake them," one whispered. "I've tried everything…"

His companion shook his head, wordless in the wait, and pointed. They drew back into the shadows as far as possible.

A car passed near the open end of the alley, creeping by with agonizing slowness.

Daisuke bared his teeth and pushed Ichijouji deeper into the shadows, pressed him further back until his back hit the gritty wall. He hoped they were out of sight, as the boy between the wall and his barely-breathing body shook, their linked arms touching shoulder to wrist. The cuffs, as they had discovered, were electronic.

Electro-magnetic locks, Ichijouji has said. No way to get the links apart, no way to break the smooth metal around their wrists. No way to get free.

They had spent two days trying, with no success.

Today was the third, and they were free due to sheer luck. An instance where one of the men, Mikiyami or something, had let his guard down. It had been the moment where the man was leading them back to their room, both of them shaken and cowering and, by all appearances, completely submissive. It had been sheer fucking luck that Daisuke had managed to throw him into the wall, knocking the man out. Sheer luck that they had gotten past the rest of the security and out into the city.

~Screw the luck-how the hell are we gonna get outta this?~ Daisuke thought, sinking lower to the ground and pulling the boy-genius down beside him. They crouched behind the edge of an overflowing dumpster, on old rotting cardboard. It stank, as they did from three days of no bathing, but neither boy noticed.

Today was the third.

~Fourth?~ he thought in a moment of confusion. Daisuke wasn't sure. All he knew was that he and the rich boy had been running down the streets for the last two hours, and before that, had spent nearly a day avoiding open spaces and the temptation of sleep. He glanced over, seeing Ichijouji rubbing at his bruised feet, bare in a pair of stolen sandals, and frowned.

He was barefoot himself, grimy and exhausted. Neither of them had slept in the last day and half-odds were starting to favor them collapsing before they managed to lose the pursuers. Then he smiled grimly. ~I bet they didn't expect us to run halfway through the city like this.~ He paused, peering carefully into the narrow gap behind the dumpster, looking for movement, shadows, any indication of pursuit.

The car was gone.

He relaxed minutely, allowed himself to exhale. "Gone," he breathed. "But they'll be back. They've found us before…"

The rich boy shot him a dark look. "I know…so why is this different?"

"What are you talking about?"

"They've always tracked us down, idiot. But this time they drove right past-it's never happened before."

"God-how the hell should I know?"

"Think, you idiot! They've been finding us because we've probably got a sort of transmitter wired into these," Ichijouji made a face and shook his wrist.

Daisuke scowled, opened his mouth, then shut it for a second. He inhaled once, twice, and looked away. "That would explain it," he muttered. "Got kidnapped by the Geek-squad."

Ichijouji made a strangled sound, and shoved him lightly. "So why would they miss us this time?" he whispered harshly, and began scanning around them. "It could be a radio or something-anything that would interfere with signals-"

The red-haired punk rolled his eyes, and began looking around. "Uhm, so, you're sayin' something's messing with the wiring of this?"

"Yes, moron. Have you found anything or am I being too ambitious?"

Muttering, Daisuke lifted the cardboard and pulled aside sticky plastic. "Uh…we got shoes, garbage, old sandwich-don't want to know what that was-" he paused, rummaging without hesitation through the foul mess, and pushed aside a half-bent box of shredded paper. "More garbage, wires, bottles and cans-hey, I found a quarter!-and," another pause as he lifted plastic. "Junked-out speaker, pizza bo-"

Ichijouji looked up, wrist deep in his own pile of debris, and gave him a distracted hiss. "What was that?"

"…old pop cans?" Daisuke blinked as Ichijouji reached across and started yanking away rubbish.

"No, the speaker-magnetic! That's it!" the boy said, pulling out a twisted frame of metal, wires and a heavy piece of dark smooth metal. "Here, help me get it out."

"What are you planning to use it for?" Daisuke hissed as the equipment was shoved into his hands. He gripped it regardless as Ichijouji began twisting the metal away from the circular magnet. The boy made a frustrated sound when it wouldn't loosen, then yanked it back from Daisuke.

The redhead made an offended face and crossed his arms. "Fuckin' rude bastard-" he stopped himself as Ichijouji smashed the twisted frame into the cement. "What in the hell are you doing now?" he shushed frantically. "They'll hear that!"

"If I can-smash-get the magnetic piece out-smash-and into smaller parts-smash</br>-then-there!" he grinned and began scooping up the shattered bits of magnet. Determined, he began to break the largest into finger-sized bits.

"Okay," Daisuke eyed him with confusion. "So what's it gonna do?"

Ichijouji slipped a sliver between his wrist and the metal cuff. "Interference," he whispered smugly.

"No shit," the redhead raised a brow, and reached for a piece of his own, abandoning pride for the sake of survival. "You think it'll actually work?" he commented, eyeing it skeptically.

"Of course. The magnet disrupts the signals-haven't you ever seen what happens with speakers and televisions? Or cellphones? It's common knowledge."

"…um, okay," Daisuke snorted. "Whatever you say, rich boy."

"Look, it'll work," Ichijouji said flatly. "Here," he shoved several pieces into Daisuke's hands.

"Whatever," Daisuke muttered, but slid them under the cuff anyway. He had to work them in, taking care not to accidentally cut his skin-but when he was finished he knew they wouldn't slip out.

When they were done, barefoot and ragged, wrists scratched and raw from the magnets, they sat back and spent the next few minutes in silence. Both were panting still, sweaty and grimy. Both listened with strumming nerves for any sound, poised for flight.

Nothing.

"We should get going," Daisuke whispered, looking up into the sky. The night was nearing its end despite the still-visible clouds and the winking lights of planes overhead. ~It might rain soon, and it's getting darker…~

"We can go to my-"

"No, we can't!" Daisuke interrupted. "I told you we can't! Don't you know nothing? They're waiting for us there, they'll be looking for us-and if we go anywhere near your house they'll catch us!"

"Then where-"

"Look, I've got a place we can stay. You have to trust me on this, rich boy."

"Oh? And where would this 'place' be? You got someone there that could hack this thing open?" the pale-skinned boy spat. "You got someone with skills enough to reroute the wiring and get past the signal-program?" Ken tugged on their wrists.

"Maybe," Daisuke replied. "Come on, let's go," he pulled the boy to his feet, hearing a bitten-off mutter, and gritted his teeth.

"Where are we going?" Ichijouji gasped out after five minutes of running and cutting into alleyways. They sped along the shadows of the housing district, avoiding all possible contact.

"Safe place," the redhead threw back over his shoulder. "But you'll have to put up with my friends."

~-~-~

Less than a block away, perched over a small glowing laptop screen, Itsumaki snarled out a disbelieving curse and struck the interior of the vehicle.

"What is it?" Mikiyami called from the passenger seat. He turned his head, but didn't remove his eyes from the street.

"Signal's gone," Itsumaki hissed. "Son of a bitch-"

"What?" Mikiyami twisted around. "How?"

Itsumaki leveled an icy glare at his subordinate and replied coldly. "The boy is a genius, Mikiyami. I was not surprised when they managed to slip pass you-" he paused to eye the bruise growing on the skin and sneered. "Nor that they managed to get this far. But they can't stay in their hole forever-there's no way they can open the cuffs."

"Yeah, but-" the first man spoke, a wince of fear on his lean face.

"We underestimated Ichijouji. We also assumed having the punk there to encourage his…cooperation…would have the desired effect. " He tapped on the keyboard, his movements tight with anger. "I won't make the same mistake."

"But…where do we look now?"

"Simple. We keep an eye on Ichijouji's home, monitor calls and all family members. We will know instantly if he tries to contact them."

"And the punk?"

Itsumaki smiled slowly, and his fingers flew over the keyboard. "We'll find him. Then…then we'll finish what we started."

~-~-~

The sky was streaked with the orange-reflected light of the city when they ventured forth from the shadows and stumbled to a stop. They had taken nearly two hours to get this far, with slow careful routes and an eye over their back. It was a little past dawn, the sun washed out behind thin incoming clouds.

There had been no sign of pursuit.

Daisuke looked down at his wrist, at the pieces of magnet digging into his skin. He didn't know whether to be surprised or sickened by the show of innovation. ~Fucking genius,~ he thought in sheer exasperation, and looked discreetly at the other boy.

Ichijouji Ken-younger brother to the Tamachi genius Osamu, math whiz, soccer whiz-was still handcuffed to his arm. The boy was panting, dark hair limp over his face. He was leaning against the wall with heavy relief, his body shaking from the tension.

He looked about done. Daisuke twisted a lip. ~So what-we're almost there. He can go another block or two…~ The redhead looked past them, to the nondescript house, set amidst other unremarkable houses, and felt himself relax. The windows were dark, no signs of life-but he knew that there was someone within the safety of that place.

"Come on, Ichijouji," he whispered. "Just a little more."

Ichijouji gave him a look too tired to be angry as Daisuke grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. "So you do know where we're going?" the dark-haired boy said dryly, between breaths.

"Yeah," Daisuke replied as they slipped between houses. "So shut up and walk."

~-~-~

Ken stumbled on numb feet as the dirty teen in front of him pulled at his wrist, tried not to fall into the bushes that lined the interior of the fence. His head spun, and he felt more than sick with tension and the lack of food. Weariness dragged at his body, making it hard to think.

~Focus,~ he told himself. ~Stay alert.~

They were moving around the back, towards a nondescript house of a gray color. It looked normal, with a few cans and the odd toy scattered in the small well-kept lawn. Shoes lined the edge of the backyard patio, and there was an old dew-soggy magazine in the grass next to the walk. Somewhere, a bird whistled out the first notes of song.

"For a home," he heard himself say, "it sure doesn't look like much."

The punk shot him a glance full of dry amusement, as if there was a joke only he could understand. "That's the point," he said.

Ken made a private face, and felt himself sway. Dizzy. He was dizzy. Stubbornly, he pushed his feet forward, pushing himself forward, his wrist aching and his body numbing slowly. He pushed past the sickening whirl of his thoughts, the queasiness in his stomach and aching lead of his movements. Had to move past it.

~Keep moving, keep moving-~he felt a flash of panic as the punk edged them up to a door, jiggling the knob. He felt himself sway, unable to fight the irrational panic of a car pulling up, of men getting out and dragging him back to the tiny dark room where bad things lurked. Couldn't help thinking that if he looked over his shoulder, they would be there, doors opening...men rising in silent malice…

"Oiy."

Ken squeezed his eyes shut, groping blindly for the wall, and leaned against his forearm. He didn't notice the narrowed look, the veiled concern. A moment later, the dizziness abated, and he opened his eyes, watching with a mix of confusion and mild anger. "I'm fine," he muttered. "So shut up."

He wondered inside at his actions, at the fact he wasn't acting normally. ~Face it,~ he thought to himself. ~You're antagonizing him on purpose.~ The taller boy frowned. He wouldn't…

~You would. You do.~

~No, he's just a low-class punk with no money. A delinquent. Stop worrying about it,~ Ken told himself. ~Once I get the cuffs off, I'm going home. They won't stop me.~

His eyes wandered over again, as the punk named Daisuke twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Inside he saw a darkened kitchen. Before he could question the merits of walking into that room, Ken was pulled inside. The door shut behind them. Ken twisted his lips, unaccountably irritated, and nodded. A flicker of relief passed through the shadowed face. "Now what?" he heard himself mutter.

"Oh shut up," Daisuke snapped, sounding loud in the darkness. His voice echoed faintly. "Try relaxing for a bit, you stuck-up prick."

"Excuse me?" Ken returned. "I merely asked what we'll do now, you social-outcast. Forgive my curiosity when my life is at stake!"

Turning to face him fully, most likely unaware of the way his bound left arm tugged at the chain between them, Daisuke sneered. "Self-centered-"

Lights exploding into the room sent both of them reeling, a figure stepping out from a shadowed hall with arms extended. Squinting with an arm thrown up to shield his eyes, Ken made out something glaringly black in the hands, the narrow eyes and the dangerous cast to the face.

"Yeah, keep moving," a young-sounding man said, a gun in his hands. "Let's see how far you get."

Gun. Gasping, Ken backpedaled out of instinct until his back slammed into the door, the chain yanking the other's arm backward until it was stretched out between them, hidden from view. Strangely, the punk stepped in front of him.

"Dammit, Yamato!" Daisuke was screeching beside him, squinting through his fingers. "What the fuck is this? Put that damn thing away!" His right arm lowered until he could peer over it through the bright lights.

The man-blond, Ken noticed when his eyes picked out the light-colored hair against the shadows behind him-widened his eyes but didn't lower the gun for the space of three heartbeats. "Daisuke?" he exhaled a sigh made of shock and aggravation. His eyes flickered over to Ken with surprise, suspicious.

~Must be a friend,~ Ken thought, mouth dry, and refused to look away. The man had icy blue eyes, a surprisingly handsome face. He was dressed in jeans and a bland gray tee-shirt. He wore no socks. ~A gun in his hands,~ his mind pointed out again. His heart thundered, the adrenaline working wonders on the dizziness of exhaustion.

"Well, duh, you goddamned twitchy bastard. Put that fuckin' piece down already!"

The gun, much to his relief, dropped finally. Surprisingly, the man spoke in a furious voice that oddly reminded Ken of his mother. "Where the fuck have you been? What happened and who in god's name is that!?"

Daisuke sighed beside him. "Long story, Yama. Where's everyone else?"

Yama tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and raised a slim blond brow. "Where do you think? You triggered a level 3. Great. They won't be back for an hour…thanks a lot."

"Oh. Umm…I take it the system's working?"

"Well enough. Taichi and Iori stayed behind. Takeru went with the girls-" Yama turned his head, rapping his knuckles onto the wood in a echoing pattern. "Come on, Dai. I hope you got a damned good story to tell…"

"Yeah, yeah," Daisuke muttered. He shot Ken a dark look as the boy narrowed his mouth into a thin line, a silent warning against any words. He returned the look with a veiled threat, but didn't speak. The redhead pulled him forward. He could hear inaudible voices somewhere ahead of him.

~A safe place,~ Ken thought suddenly. ~A safe place with gun-toting madmen…~

Yamato paused long enough to let them get close, looking sharply at them both. His raking eyes took in the dirt and grime, the bruises and bared feet, the state of their clothes. Then, at the chime of sound, his eyes went down to the cuffs. "…Dai?"

Daisuke caught his look and made an disgusted face. "Don't even ask."

~-~-~

"What is it?"

"I have news. Is this a bad time?"

"No. In a few hours I will arrive at the Ichijouji home to give my condolences. Make it quick."

"…we lost him. Signal disappeared near the suburban area-" A soft sound that might have been anger on the other end made Itsumaki pause. He swallowed, and continued with only a faint waver. "I apologize, Sir. We'll find him. We've got an eye on all the possible places he could be, traced all possible routes."

"See that he's found." A pause, then the deeper voice said. "I trust that you've removed all possibility for the boy to contact his family? With luck we can make this work to our advantage-we have the footage of the Ichijouji brat. Our objective can still be met...as long as you do not fail, Itsumaki."

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. Do not call again until you have news of value." A click, then toneless buzzing. Shuddering, Itsumaki clicked the small phone closed and slid it into his breastpocket. It was done. In the front of the car Mikiyami and the larger man, Seiyui, exchanged uneasy looks.

"So what'd the boss want?" Seiyui said in his ponderous voice.

"We're to find them both, and keep an eye on his home. Any background on the punk?"

"Not yet," Mikiyami remarked. "It's like he doesn't exist."

"Find him!" Itsumaki snapped from the backseat. "We're not even close to getting away with this-I don't have to remind you the hard part is still ahead."

Both of the subordinates nodded respectfully. There was fear in their gazes. Itsumaki smiled grimly. "We'll have our fun, though," he said softly, and yanked open his laptop. Mikiyami started the engine while Seiyui dutifully buckled himself in. Then there was nothing but a sleek dark car, tinted windows and low rumbling power, pulling away from the curb and into the early traffic.

They blended right in.

~-~-~

Ken could feel carpet under his feet as he walked through the darkness. Yamato was ushering them ahead, into a small partially lit room that resembled a normal living room. Couches and cushions lined two walls, and Ken had to make sure he didn't stumble over any of them as they were led to a couch.

"Sit," the blond ordered, and disappeared down a second hallway.

Daisuke didn't appear to notice, and dropped onto the nearest couch with a sigh. After a moment, when Ken didn't move, he tugged on the chain and pulled him down. "Sit down and relax," he muttered. "You're safe, okay?"

Ken made a face without realizing it and settled back into the tattered couch. "If you say so." ~…safe…am I?~

"I do say so-" Daisuke muttered, then cut himself off. He turned his head away, apparently done with the conversation, and closed his eyes. They sat in silence for a moment, as Ken forced his eyes open and made sure to look around the room. There was a modestly sized TV in one corner, the controls of a game-system strewn amongst a pile of pillows. There were no pictures, no decorations.

His body was clamoring for sleep. He hadn't gotten much more than a few hours in the last few days, and it seemed determined to drag him under no matter what. Ken shrugged, trying to loosen his shoulders, and settled deeper. The couch was soft, a comfort-it was almost warm. ~No, I don't want to sleep...I have to stay awake….~

He was drifting, mind full of vague thoughts, when a mumble of sound caught his attention. A man he hadn't seen before, tall with an open face and concerned brown eyes was nudging Daisuke's face into the light. He was murmuring to the punk, who shook his head every now and then. Ken realized he must have fallen asleep to have missed the other man's entry.

"Tai-" came Daisuke's protest. "I'm fine. Just tired and pissed off." Annoyed, Daisuke reached up with both hands to push the man away. Ken's hand swung up limply-for some reason, Ken didn't feel the urge to pull it away. He rather enjoyed the look of surprise on the other man's face when he saw it.

~So that's Taichi,~ he thought, remembering the blond's earlier mention.

"Dai," the man said in a low cautious voice. "Why are you handcuffed to someone?"

"Fuck if I know," Daisuke muttered evasively. Hands caught the cuffs, turning a wrist for examination.

"How'd it happen?" Taichi remarked.

A frown passed over the dirty face. "Where'd Yama go? I don't remember how it happened. Just woke up that way next to him," he jerked a thumb in Ken's direction "and we were cuffed."

"Alright. Yama sent Iori after Takeru-he'll be back in a few minutes," the brunette said. Ken watched through lidded eyes, blinked sleepily when the man looked in his direction. "But what aren't you telling me?"

Ken felt himself sink back even further. He exhaled, feeling mildly amused, and welcomed the warmth that was slowly stealing through his body. It pulled at him against his will-he wanted to listen, wanted to hear what the punk would say. He closed his eyes absently, and heard the soft reply on the edge of his hearing.

"I'll tell you later."

The young man sighed. Cracking his eyes open, Ken saw the man run a hand through his messy brown hair. They must have thought he was falling asleep. Ken witnessed him glance cautiously in his direction, then back at his sullen companion. After a moment Taichi stood, disappearing out of view. He returned with a folded blanket and spread it over Ken's shoulders, tucking the rest over Daisuke. Then he sat back down as Ken made a sleepy noise of thanks and looked piercingly at the redhead.

"I mean it, Dai. What happened?"

Ken glanced fuzzily back to Daisuke, his head lolling, and saw the boy fidgeting with the edge of a blanket. The redhead looked away before speaking. "Kidnapped by some psycho geek squad. Spent three days in a basement until I clocked one of the bastards, and took a day and a half walking over the city to get here."

"Why'd you bring him here? Why not the police?" Taichi paused, frowning. "Do you know who he is?"

"Some genius rich boy," Daisuke replied derisively.

"You know, this rich boy's face is on TV and there are a lot of people out looking for him."

"Which is why we came here, Tai. Couldn't go back-they were following us and they're smart. They would've got us, couldn't bring him home cuz they got that place scoped out." Daisuke yawned, his presence a warm weight beside Ken, who merely filed the words away without understanding. A part of Ken wanted desperately for the young man to deny Daisuke's words, to tell him it was safe to go home.

"Daisuke…how in the hell are we supposed to keep this a secret!?" the brunette remarked in a whisper.

"Don't know," Daisuke replied softly. Ken closed his eyes, a part of him relieved and tired and unable to resist the temptation to sleep. He wouldn't be turned out-he couldn't go home, but he was safe enough.

"I didn't know what else to do," the redhead whispered just on the edge of his hearing.

Ken felt a flicker of triumph flash through his doze. "Stupid punk," he mumbled, laughter in his voice. Moments later, he slipped into an exhausted sleep, and never noticed when his head slumped onto the said punk's shoulder.

~-~-~

Dai cracked an eye open at the mumble from Ichijouji and scowled. Then he looked over at Taichi, at his worried face and piercing look and sighed. He fidgeted slightly. "Tai…go and get Koushiro. We can't get the cuffs open without him."

"He's not going to be happy," Tai replied. "He doesn't usually get up until after nine."

"I don't care!" Daisuke snapped. "This is important!" Ichijouji sighed softly in his sleep, his breathing even. His head drooped slowly, his face covered by his hair, until he was leaned up against Daisuke's shoulder. The redhead told himself he was too tired to push him away, and growled in protest.

"When was the last time you slept?" came Tai's voice through the rising haze.

"…two days," Dai mumbled back. "Don't let them find us. And don't touch the cuffs. Not yet."

"Fine," Tai rolled his eyes, anger sparking through them. "Little brat-go to sleep. I'll get ahold of Koushiro and tell the others."

"…'kay…" Daisuke wondered briefly if he was even coherent, and felt his bones ache. He was aware of Taichi rising to his feet, the whisper of his jeans, and the half-mumbled curse. He smiled faintly, Ichijouji a warm lump on his side, and slept.

~-~-~

Blinking fuzzily, Koushiro frowned in the darkness of his bedroom, eyes seeking out the green LCD readout of his clock and groaned. "It's only five, Tai!" he moaned. "Why did he need to see me?"

The brunette's voice was cautious. "Because he's got a weird device on his wrist-says he needs you to get it off. Look-you don't need to get up right now. They've been on their feet for two days and I doubt they've gotten much food or sleep in that time. They need to rest. Just get here as soon as possible," Taichi said. An unspoken command, a request, was in his voice.

"Dammit," Koushiro muttered. "Fine. I'll see you in about two hours." Then mumbling to himself, he hung up the phone without bothering to check if Tai agreed. He slumped back onto the pillow, burying his face into the softness.

"Fuck," he said distinctly.

A moment later, he flung the sheet back and rolled out of bed.

~-~-~

"So what's up?" a voice murmured behind Taichi as he hung up on Koushiro's mumbles. Tai turned to see the blond leaning casually against the door.

"Well…we found Dai," he remarked dryly. Yamato blinked at his annoyed tone. "and somehow, he's gotten handcuffed to the missing Ichijouji boy."

"That dirty brat is Ichijouji Ken?"

"Yeah, believe it. Dai said he got kidnapped and woke up that way. Looks like he wasn't lying about walking through half the city, either."

The blond reached up to run fingers through his feathered hair. "So…Is he okay? I mean, He's not hurt or anything?"

Mouth thinning into an angry slash, Taichi shook his head undecidedly. "From what I heard, and the way he was acting…I'd say it came pretty close."

~-~-~

Koushiro showed up at the door an hour later, looking decidedly rumpled. His hair, as short as it was, seemed somewhat wild, and there were wrinkles in his shirt. "Can you tell me what's going on now?" he asked sourly when Yamato opened the door.

"Yeah, sure," the blond waved a hand. "Come on in."

The door swung shut with a decisive click after the shorter redhead. Koushiro muffled a yawn, slipping out of his shoes, and wandered after the blond. "Ugh, too early," he muttered. It wasn't the first time he had told himself such.

"Shh!" came another voice.

Koushiro blinked as Taichi's unusually somber face appeared around the edge of the doorway, waist height. ~He must be sitting,~ the redhead assumed. "What?"

"Shh," the brunette repeated, waving a hand at him. "I don't need them awake!"

The younger man and rolled his eyes as he stepped through. "What is going on," he whispered. "I feel absolutely ridiculous whispering at such an early hour."

The brunette gestured to the back of the couch. Poking over the top was a familiar spiky style, and a faint sound that might have been snoring. A small part of him loosened. "So he's safe," he murmured.

Yamato leaned against the wall. "They've had a rough time," the blond said. "Did Tai tell you?"

"Yeah…wait, they?"

The chair squeaked as Taichi kicked back, nudging him around the knee with the point of his foot. "Go around and look," he said.

Annoyed, tired, and able to see that arguing would get him nowhere, Koushiro made the small trek to the front of the couch, avoiding the cushions and various magazines, until he was looking down onto a pair of dirty and somewhat smelly boys. A brow rose, and Koushiro glanced over at Tai. "Who?" he mouthed, and watch the other glance cautiously at Yama.

"This is top-notch, Kou-kun," Tai said after a moment. The redhead looked down at the unrecognizable figure, at the hair that obscured the face, at the stained and tattered clothes peeking out from under the blanket.

~Top notch?~ Koushiro thought skeptically. "Yeah, okay. So what the fuck is going on?"

"Well," Tai began. "Daisuke got kidnapped, and ended up handcuffed to the Ichijouji boy."

~Ichijouji Ken,~ his mind flashed. ~Younger brother of the Tamachi genius Ichijouji Osamu, surprisingly good at soccer and computer programming~ An image formed of immaculate clothes, of a slightly blank face and indigo eyes, a slight smile and straight clean hair. Not this ragged dirty boy on the couch.

"That isn't even funny," he snapped, heedless of the level of his voice. "There's little possibility of that happening-do you think I'm stupid?"

On the couch, Daisuke rolled his head, one baleful eye peering at him. "Shit," he coughed. "Koushiro, either get the fuckin' cuff off, or shut the fuck up."

Scowling just as fiercely, Koushiro bent his head close to vent some anger. "Oiy, it's not my problem that you lost the keys to the cuffs with your fucktoy. I have had to study for Monday's exam and it has kept me up all night. I have no time for your stupid pranks!"

Their eyes met, and held for a long silenced moment. Taichi and Yamato exchanged long-suffering looked, but kept quiet. Slowly, Daisuke pulled his hand into view and pushed aside the hair on the face of the other boy.

"Look close," he said in an almost pleasant voice, the voice that whispered of flashing knives. The face under his fingers scrunched slightly at the contact, a blur of annoyance that disappeared under the sleeping face. "I didn't choose this so either get them off or let me sleep!"

Lips tight, Koushiro straightened with suspicious eyes. He opened his mouth, shut it with a click, and scowled. He hated being proven wrong. The redhead stared at the exposed face, the grime and stringy hair. "How in the hell did this happen?" he conceded after a moment, backing down off his anger and giving Daisuke a somewhat rueful look.

Daisuke shifted on the couch until the previously mentioned cuffs slipped above the blanket. Body loose with sleep, Ken merely slumped further until his hair brushed Daisuke's collarbone, and his hand lay in plain view. He didn't wake. Daisuke began to talk as Koushiro knelt to examine them with a delicate touch, his irritation vanishing under the attraction of a challenge.

"Woke up cuffed. Don't remember. When we got out-a strong shudder rippled through him "-we ran flat out for three blocks. It was in the warehouse of the lower Iezu district. He says there's a tracking thing in the cuffs, so we didn't stop moving."

"And these?" he asked, fingering one of the black magnets.

"Interference," Daisuke replied, assuming he would know. "It worked, so don't take them out."

"His idea, I take it?" Koushiro remarked dryly.

Daisuke nodded, ignoring the slur, and slumped back onto the couch. "Can I sleep now?"

"Go ahead," Koushiro twisted and turned the wrists to see all possible edges of the cuffs. "Hmm," he began to mutter to himself. "No lock. Electronic, or wired. Very difficult to say…"

Daisuke closed his eyes. A clacking made him open them again, and he looked to see Koushiro clicking away one-handed at his laptop. "So…what's the verdict?" he yawned.

"I need more information, but it shouldn't be that hard to crack. The problem is the programming and the frequency. It looks like a mini-harddrive, really hi-tech. I've never seen anything like this. It's almost a mix of a tiny safe and a watch-how interesting."

"Can you get it off?"

"Be patient, Dai," Koushiro snapped. "This is going to take a while. I need to figure out what I need to have to understand this, analyze components and plot a course. I need to know the metal, the connection-"

A blurry set of indigo eyes opened, the hand between the two boys pulling faintly. "…wiring through the chains," Ichijouji whispered slowly. His eyes shut momentarily as the boy inhaled. "Get the wire, hook up directly."

Koushiro raised a brow, turning pull the chain between his hands. He looked close in the dim light, and made out an almost invisible wire melded to the chain. He made a soft noise of appreciation. From a glance it looked like the mold-seam of the chain itself-but at the joint of one cuff, a gleam of copper. It was a wire.

"Hmm…perhaps if I merely cut it-"

"No," Ichijouji rasped. He seemed to realize he was resting on Daisuke's shoulder and pushed himself away to sprawl on the couch instead. A look of distrust passed briefly over his dirty features. "No, that could trigger something. Expose the wire and start analyzing."

"Good point," Koushiro said dryly. "But I don't have the necessary equipment. I will need to gather it, so take this time to rest. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Great," the boy genius said distinctly. "About goddamn time."

~~

A/N : mwaahahahaaaaaa….this fic is gonna be so much fun. ^_^ Next part-lot more arguing! Trips to the bathroom! And…finally, freedom!

Freedom…oh crap…