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Yohji knew that it was a bad idea the second he saw the doors of the elevator slide open. The flickering neon light was too bright, drowning the too-small cabin in darkness every other second.
Nothing about the elevator looked inviting, but Yohji locked his jaw and shoved his smaller companion forward into the small room. The feeling of dread intensified once the other had passed the small gap between the floor and the elevator, making him turn his head over his shoulder. For a second he stood still, listening intensely.
Nothing, but the rushing of his own blood through his ears.
Yohji turned his head back around and swallowed a grunt when the sudden movement made pain stab through his shoulder. He grabbed it with his right hand and hissed through his teeth, unable to hide his reaction to the pain a second time. He could feel the blood oozing through the fabric of his coat, wetting his gloved fingers. And for a short moment he let himself be consumed by a cocktail of exhaustion, pain and adrenaline. It made his body feel limp and strung out at the same time. He knew he had only so long until the exhaustion and pain would outweigh everything else.
"Balinese?" The voice of his younger companion brought him back to the present and he staggered forward into the cabin.
"I'm fine. Get the thing moving." Even to himself it sounded like a lie.
He leaned against the wall opposite of the entrance and watched Bombay push several buttons on the panel next to the door.
The light of the cabin kept flickering on and off. For a second Yohji wondered if this old, rusty bucket of metal would even work. Almost to his surprise the doors slid close again and he felt the soft rattling of the moving cabin under his feet.
His fingers twitched, as usual longing for the occupying hold of a cigarette. It wasn't the first time that night that he wished he could simply take out the pack that was hidden deep inside the backpocket of his leather pants.
"27 floors," said Bombay as he turned around to face Yohji, "that gives us some time. Show me your shoulder, maybe I can patch you up until we hit the first floor," He stepped closer to Yohji, hiding his worry behind his usual uplift and unconcerned voice. Only his knitted brows and tight lips gave him away.
"I'm fine," mumbled Yohji, and cursed himself inwardly for how tired he sounded.
"Spare your energy, we will need it once the door opens again." He glanced up to the ever changing numbers above the door. 22, 21, 19, he must have blinked and missed the 20th floor.
They were going down fast, and he knew there wasn't enough time to deal with his injury, not if they couldn't risk any distraction.
"Of course you are," snapped Bombay, in a tense and irritated voice. He huffed and closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Just show me, okay? There should be enough time to at least try to stop the bleeding." His voice had grown softer with each word. And within a blink of an eye, Bombay had turned back into Omi.
"Please?" he asked, watching Yohji with his big blue eyes and signature smile on his lips. He stepped another inch forward, and reached out with his hand but stopped mid air, not touching the leather coat without permission.
But before Yohji could answer, a shock went through the cabin, throwing him head first into his partner. Together they hit the door and sank to the ground.
Yohji grunted and cursed, his right hand cradled around his injured shoulder. Damn, that hurt. "Fuck, what was that?"
His instincts kicked in. Despite the burning pain that shot through half of his upper body, he managed to get himself back on his feet.
He took a few steps back on wobbly legs and hit the wall with his back. "Bombay?" he asked, a bit concerned that he hadn't yet heard a word from his partner.
"Here," came a nasal sounding voice from the ground of the cabin, and Yohji released the breath, anticipation was making him hold.
"Get up, we don't have time to rest," he said mockingly - though he regretted it the second he felt Bombay's foot connect with his shin.
"Ouch! I felt that! Just wait until we get home!" Yohji hissed, pulling his hurting leg up and out of Bombay's reach. If only he could see the kid, he would teach him -
"Serves you right. That's what you get for breaking my nose." Omi's nasal voice came from below him, just before the dark was torn by a stream of light.
"Hey, don't blind me!" Yohji shielded his eyes with his hand as Omi stood up on shaky legs. "Give that to me." Yohji took the flashlight from Omi and held it directly into the younger man's face. "Let's see how you like it."
"Hey, stop that, now is not the time for-" but Yohji interrupted Omi's protest before he could even finish it.
"How else should I take a look at your nose? Broken my ass, it's just bleeding. Put your head back," he gently pushed Omi's head back by putting two fingers on his forehead, "and pinch the bridge of your nose with two fingers. That should stop the bleeding."
"Oh, thanks." Omi was a bit confused at the turn of events, but did what he was told.
They were silent for a few seconds while Yohji inspected the elevator. Omi tried to will the blood to stop, the blooming headache to go away. He had taken a bad hit by Yohji's body, but he was thankful that nothing was broken.
"Any idea why this thing broke down?" Yohji kicked against the wall in frustration.
He had already pushed every button on the dead panel, but nothing seemed to work. He wasn't particularly claustrophobic, but he was never good at being stuck in one place for too long. And this sardine-can like cabin was the last place he wanted to be stuck in. Or die in, for that matter.
Omi shook his head, regretted it right after as pain shot from his nose up to his forehead.
"I know as much as you," he said, his voice strained despite his effort to hide the pain. "Maybe they cut the electricity to trap us?"
"Ken and Aya-"
"Wouldn't be that stupid. They will stick to the plan," said Omi with a determination Yohji couldn't crush even if he wanted to. So he stuck to rolling his eyes at his young team leader. One day, he was sure that someone would betray his trust. Yohji just hoped he wasn't the first.
"We really should use the extra time to fix your shoulder. It won't help us if you pass out from blood loss. You'll need all your strength once the electricity comes back on."
"Always the optimist," said Yohji with a lopsided smile on his face.
"Someone has to be," agreed his young partner and mimicked Yohjis smile. "Now, do me a favor and sit down."
With some effort Yohji lowered himself to the ground and bent his legs at an uncomfortable angle. The cabin was too small to stretch them out and leave enough space for Omi to crouch down in front of him.
Omi let himself down and took out the first aid kit that he kept inside a hidden pocket in his jacket. Then he started to work on Yohjis injury in a concentrated silence. It didn't take long and Yohjis shoulder was covered in a tight bandage.
"This should do it for now. Don't move too much," Omi said, and leaned back on his heels. His hands were covered in blood, but he had nowhere to clean them.
"You say that as if I can move my arm at all." Yohji made a point by trying to lift the arm that was tightly bound to his chest.
"Good," grinned Omi, before he stood up and wiped his bloody hands on his shorts. "You stay here. I will try and see if I can get us out of here. Give me the flashlight."
Yohji huffed and spared them the obvious answer. He felt tired and wrung out - he sure wouldn't go anywhere now. At least, his body wouldn't go anywhere. His mind, on the other hand, wandered back to the right side of his pants pocket. He wondered if he would get away with lighting a cigarette now. But one glance at Omi’s tight shoulders told him enough not to risk it.
Omi worked in silence with the flashlight between his teeth. His fingers guided the tip of the dart into the head of the screw, then twisted until it came loose. One out, three more to go.
The cover plate of the panel came down and revealed a rectangle opening in the wall. In the middle sat another smaller panel. It was full of electronics and linked with the cable further back in the hatch.
Omi took a step back and signed. This wasn't going to be easy. He had nothing but his weapons on him. How was he supposed to get the elevator working again, when he couldn't hack into its system?
He turned to glance back at his injured partner. Yohji was slumped over, his uninjured arm resting on his knee, his eyes closed and breathing slowly.
Omi knew he didn't have much time now. He had to get them out of here so he could get Yohji to the nearest hospital. Omi had done the best he could by cleaning and bandaging the wound, but Yohji needed professional medical attention as soon as possible. He almost felt it was impossible to turn back around. It was as if he looked away now, he’d lose Yohji, too.
Get a grip, Omi thought, swallowing hard. He forced himself to turn back around and start working on the panel inside the hatch. Maybe if he could find the right cable, he could somehow override the system and get the elevator working again.
But no matter what he tried, it seemed as if he had lost all of his luck. Several cables were hanging loose, but the panel was still deadly silent. No matter what he tried to connect, with just his bare hands and darts as tools, the tin-can they were stuck in wouldn't make a move.
"Damn, why isn't this working!" Omi cursed and punched the metal door next to the open hatch.
The pain that shot into his right hand added to the pain from his still throbbing nose, but he did his best to ignore it.
What was this little pain to the agony Yohji was going through, anyway?
Damn, they had to get out of here, now. He had to get them out of here, now. Or else Yohji would, he would…
He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and ripped his bandana off his head with it. He was so tense, so agitated. He felt like ripping his hair out in frustration and rising panic.
What if he didn't get them out? What if nobody came to their rescue? Yohji would die. He couldn't let that happen, he just couldn't.
"Hey, Chibi, look at me." Yohji’s voice came through the haze of his thoughts.
Omi unlocked his fists and let his arms sink to his sides again before he turned around to his partner.
Now that he was standing still again, he realized how out of breath and lightheaded he felt. His body was buzzing from head to toe, as if a swarm of cicadas had taken a home inside his bones.
"Don't worry, I will get you out of here in no time." It was obvious Omi hadn't fully registered the nickname Yohji had called him, or he would have scolded him for it. They were on a mission, that meant codenames only. Even when they were alone.
"Come here, sit down for a moment." Yohji lifted his right arm slowly, careful not to make the injury on his other side any worse. He signaled Omi to sit down next to him.
Omi shook his head no. Didn't Yohji get it? If he didn't get the elevator to work, they were stuck in here forever. And he would, Yohji would-
Something warm and clammy wrapped itself around his hand and startled Omi into taking a shaky breath into his too tight lungs. And when he opened his eyes to see what was holding onto him so tightly, he found Yohji's hand wrapped around his own.
"Sit," Yohji said, a small smile hushing over his clammy and pale face. His grab tightened before he pulled Omi downwards into the small gap between himself and the metal wall. And Omi, to his own surprise, let himself be pulled to the ground.
"Did I ever tell you about my trip to the ski resort in Hakuba?" Yohji asked out of nowhere as Omi finally settled down next to him. The chaos in Omi's mind came to a standstill, replaced by a single thought: Had Yohji lost his mind?
Before Omi could voice his concern or protest against his partner's sudden storytelling, Yohji continued, seemingly unfazed by the absurdity of the situation.
"It was a cold winter in 1995," Yohji began, launching into a gloriously ridiculous tale.
It was his second job as a PI, and Asuka had objected to even taking it. But Yohji, cavalier gentleman that he was, couldn't resist helping a petite and beautiful young lady. So together, they made their way to Hakuba.
Yohji told the story with perfect hand gestures from his uninjured arm, pausing only to build up suspense. Within minutes, he had Omi sitting at the metaphorical edge of his seat.
"And that," he said, pausing dramatically now that he was at the finish line, "is why you never hide naked in a broom closet, making out with the cheating husband of your client. No matter how hot he is. The end." Yohji grinned mischievously and leaned his head back against the cold metal wall behind him. Job done. He felt satisfied. Tired, but satisfied.
Omi, on the other hand, looked stunned. He had so many questions. "You... you made out with the husband?" he asked, curiosity overcoming his initial bewilderment. His mind had urged him to focus on the mission, but halfway through the story, he found himself paying more attention than he should. And at the end—
"That, Omittchi, is for another day." Yohji smiled tiredly and raised his hand to pat his younger partner's unkempt hair down.
"Don't call me Omittchi," Omi protested, leaning out of Yohji’s reach. "We're on a mission, remember? Codenames only."
"Welcome back, Bombay," Yohji grinned smugly. "Now get back to work, will ya? I don't plan on dying in this stupid sardine-can of an elevator, so you better get us out of here now." With that, he ushered a baffled Omi back to his feet.
"I'm, yeah…" mumbled Omi and stood up.
He looked down at Yohji, shaking his head in disbelief, then turned around to the open panel again.
After a few minutes of working in silence, he stopped.
"Thank you, you know for-" Omi stood still in front of the open hatch, only waving his hands in the air, as if he was lost for words.
"You can make it up to me by getting us out of here."
"Will do."
And he did. With his newfound optimism, it didn't take long for him to finally crack the electronics and get the door open.
His fingers were cut and burned, his teeth scraped by the metal of the flashlight, and his jaw was throbbing along with the pain from his nose. But he had done it, the door was open. And it must have been their lucky day, as they were almost on the16th floor.
The elevator had passed the floor, but the gap was small enough to where it only came up to Omi’s knees. With a little effort, they would be out of there in no time.
"You did it!" beamed Yohji, struggling to get to his feet. "I did it!" beamed Omi back, rushing to his partner and locking himself to Yohji's side.
He helped Yohji back up and wrapped his arm tightly around his partner's back. It wasn't easy to keep Yohji on his feet. He had lost a lot of blood and the adrenaline was fading fast now.
Despite the effort of his partner, it took Yohji all his strength and willpower to make it to the opening. Each step shot a stab of pain through his shoulder and his muscles tensed up to the point he thought they would rip apart. The bandage Omi had cast around his shoulder wasn't holding any of his arm’s weight. He had to keep his arm as still as possible on his own, or the pain would send him back on his knees.
"Can you stand on your own?" Omi asked once they reached the opening. He had pulled two darts out of a hidden pocket inside his jacket and was playing with them between his fingers.
"I want to check out the hallway before we go for the stairs." Yohji could feel the adrenaline rushing through his partner now that he was about to scout the place.
Ready to kill any potential enemy hiding behind closed doors or hallway corners.
"You're not going alone," Yohji protested, then immediately braced himself for Omi’s refusal.
"Sorry to break it to you, but at this point you're only dead weight. I'm faster alone." Omi’s statement was so matter of fact, it took Yohji by surprise how right his younger partner was at this moment. Without him, Omi would be faster, and able to defend himself. With him at his side on the other hand-
"Way for you to call me fat," Yohji joked half-heartedly as he gave in to his partner's plan. Still, he didn’t like the idea of splitting up now. There was only so much luck between both of them, they must be running out sooner than later.
Omi laughed quietly as he let go of his partner's coat. Yohji took the moment to turn halfway around and lean against the wall next to the open doors. That way he would at least be protected from any oncoming enemies. He knew he didn't stand much of a chance in his current state, but he didn't need to serve himself up on a silver platter either. When he looked back up, Omi was gone.
The boy was quick.
"Hurry, I won't be waiting on you forever." Yohji said to no one in particular.
As if on cue, his mind wandered back to his pocket. Just one for good luck, he thought and fished the smudged package out of his leather pants.
The first breath tasted like heaven. He could feel himself relax for the first time in hours. The job wasn't done. He was still injured, and Omi was out there alone. But the nicotine still helped him unwind, even just a little.
It was relaxing, calming, soothing, almost like coming home after a long day at work.
All he needed now was a strong drink and a beautiful woman, at his side and he would be-
"I swear, I don't even need Omi's instructions to find you. The smell of your disgusting cancer sticks blows every cover!" came Ken's voice from his left.
"Come on, Omi and Aya are waiting at the stairs for you. And put that cigarette out! I'm not carrying you there if you keep smelling like that." Ken huffed, waving his hand in front of his face to get rid of the smoke that was filling the hallway.
Laughing about the absurd turn of events, Yohji took one last pull of his cigarette and let it drop to the floor.
"How did you find Omi anyway?" he asked, as Ken stepped into the cabin and slid his arm around Yohji's uninjured side.
"Tracker, remember?" Ken grunted as he helped lift Yohji out of the elevator.
Right. The tracker. Yohji must have been really out of it, if he'd forgotten about it. He let himself be carried the rest of the elevator then down another corridor. After passing through a shabby-looking office, Ken and Yohji finally made it to the hallway where Omi and Aya were already waiting for them. With their help, he was able to make it downstairs and to the car.
Ken maneuvered Yohji inside the backseat, and Omi scooted in beside him. He laid his head down in his partner's lab and dozed off, when he remembered-
"The mission?"
"Taken care of." Aya said, as he slid behind the steering wheel.
Good, thought Yohji and closed his eyes. Now he could rest.