Drai hung upside down from the rafters of the building, some official place that was closed down for the night, despite the worried scientist that paced back and forth. He peered at the man, single braid dangling past his head. His legs were hooked around the metal, holding him steady from years of practice.
He tapped his mic. “Shinigami, Kitty’s on the move,” he murmured.
There was a brief pause, then, “I see her. Target’s in sight.”
Blue eyes blinked at her reflection. “Are you sure this is wise, Ember?” the blonde asked, looking up from the compact in her hand.
The ginger shrugged, peering through a set of binoculars. “Ah. Found ‘em. One so far, moving toward the Principal. Take her out, Dollie,” was the response.
The blonde dropped her compact and took swift aim. Not a moment’s hesitation before she pulled the trigger.
“Shit, Kitty’s been taken out!” Shinigami snapped in his ear, sounding half-panicked.
“Do not move from your location!” Drai hissed. “Stay where you are. Kitty is fine.”
“… damn. We got guards?”
“Cover fire. Find them and remove them from the equation.”
“Why isn’t the Principal moving?” the ginger’s voice demanded in Lucy’s ear.
The blonde shrugged. “Dunno. Find out.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to move. Your cover is blown. Get down there and get the Principal out,” ginger ordered.
Lucy rolled her eyes before scooping up her compact. “Okay, okay, going.” She packed up the sniper gun with brief efficiency and slunk into the shadows.
The com crackled. “Sighted her, but she’s gone,” Shinigami said, and swore in Japanese. “I’ve lost her. Little person. Light hair. Probably female. Couldn’t tell very well.”
Drai scowled, watching as Arana stirred on the ground near the target, nearly giving the man a heart attack. “Find her, or him, and remove them. Are there any others?”
“None that I’ve found,” Shinigami replied. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any.”
Arana stumbled to her feet, eyes locked on the target, and grinned. “Hello, I’m the ghost of Christmas past. Boo.”
The man shrieked and stumbled away. “No!” he yelled.
“What the FUCK!”
“Eh?” Lucy jogged through a door, careful to keep as many things between her and open space as possible. “What’s going on?”
“The female just got back up. You sure you shot her?” ginger demanded furiously.
“Right in the temple. There’s no way she’s still alive.”
“Well, if she’s yokai…”
“English, english,” Lucy grumped. And then she caught sight of the Principal again, and blue eyes widened on the brunette stumbling toward him. “Wow, I was right. Bullet right to the temple. Medical mystery, maybe.”
“Yokai,” was the only response.
“We are taking out any witnesses,” Drai barked. “Any and all. Our guard, the target, and anyone else.”
But then Arana was stopping. Head turning slowly. Her mouth dropped open, in a silent shriek. She was shot again, and went down. The target was looking in the same direction Arana had been, and edged toward the area…
“Taking the shot.”
“Shit. Principal is down, Dollie, pull out,” ginger ordered. “Meet you at the designated spot.”
“Got it,” Lucy said, eyes lingering on the brunette she’d shot. Why did she look so familiar? And why did Lucy think that she’d thought the same thing…?
Drai hurried into base, carrying Arana with their teammate following behind uneasily. “Medic!” the Arab yelled, shouldering through the door and into the medical room. “She’s got two bullets in her head. They have to be removed.”
Luckily, the only people there were Christoph and Svorak, whom was still recovering.
Shinigami lingered by the door, loath to approach anyone really, but a little curious about the bullet wounds.
The stocky medic’s eyebrows popped up, but he gestured at the bed nearby and yanked over his nastier tool trolley. “So,” he drawled, trying to hide his excitement. “Crack open the skull, fish around bits of metal, and close her back up.” He shook his head. “Amazing.”
A few feet away, Christoph’s expression darkened. “Medic,” he growled.
Helping the Arab lay the woman out on the bed, Medic didn’t bother to turn around. “This is not experimentation,” he retorted. “This is surgery. The type I don’t usually bother with. Now, shut up.” The doctor raced to the bathroom, where he scrubbed down his arms and tugged on the sterile gloves.
Shinji’s gaze flicked around, brows lifting slightly. His expression said surprise at the existence of the place, but he didn’t open his mouth. Drai frowned, for once visibly furious. “Hurry up, medic! She’s gonna keep reviving and dying until you get that shit out of her head!”
“And if I give her an infection in the head she’s going to be a walking corpse for a month,” Medic snarled as he emerged from the side room. He glanced at the woman who was lying face down. “Good, good,” he muttered while he grabbed a needle and plunged it into her neck, pumping her full of sedatives. “You’re very lucky we know your brain will self-construct,” he told her conversationally as he snagged various lines and tubes. “I don’t have to keep you awake for this.”
Her signal registered on the machines, fluctuating, dimming, fading, only to surge to life seconds later. Doc ignored the heart monitor for the most part, lowering the volume to a sullen low tweet.
“I wonder how fast her hair will grow back,” the man mused, cutting and shaving away the entire crop of brown. Pausing, Medic looked up at the crowd in the room. “You, you, and you. OUT.”
Christoph blinked, but exited without a fuss, though he shot the doctor a frown.
Shinji actually pouted, but left. Her safety wasn’t really his business, and Drai was stalking out moodily anyway. “Shinigami,” the Arab barked, and when the slightly older male lifted both brows, he relented. “Nice shooting.”
Shinji beamed. “Thanks! Mononoke-san gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” Drai heaved a worried sigh anyway. “She’ll be pissed about the hair, though.”
“Heh.” He glanced at Christoph. “Your friend looked familiar. Have I seen him around somewhere?”
Wincing a bit as the sound of a drill, the blond frowned for a moment. “We’ve been around for a good long while,” he said shrugging. “It’s possible.”
Shinji shrugged. “I’m Isoto. Nice ta meet ya,” he said cheerfully.
Drai wondered how the guy managed to be so… ew. He must inhale frosted flakes first thing in the morning. And a shit-ton of coffee.
The crack of bone reverberated through the door.
Looking a little bemused, the tall blond nodded. “Christoph.” He looked at the room he had just been vacated from. “It’s strange not having to worry about a head surgery.”
Shinji eyed the door as well. “I’d rather not have to hear it,” he said.
Drai snorted. “I have some nice stuff, imported from back home. It’s called… well, the English translation is ‘Poison’, roughly. It’s an alcoholic drink. Want some?”
The Jap blinked at him. “Er… sure…”
“Unless you can’t hold your alcohol–” Drai started.
“Oi. That’s not fair. Show me this Poison,” Shinji said, remarkably easy to rile.
The Arab smirked knowingly and lead the way to the kitchen.
Declining the offer for a drink, Christoph sat back on the couch and considered the door. It wasn’t so much worry as it was respect that kept him there waiting. Just because she couldn’t die, didn’t mean he wouldn’t care. Waiting there meant that he heard every crunch of bone, squelch of soft tissue, and soft exclamation from Medic as the doctor literally went poking through Lady’s head.
Besides a few twitches at the louder comments, the chemist managed to stay in his seat. Thankfully, even though Lady revived several times, she stayed unconscious.
At some point though, his partner woke up…