Title: Where the White Lilies Grow (9/10)
Universes: Haru wo Daiteita & Casino Lily
Pairings: Carlo/Magira, Iwaki/Katou, Shouji/Shu Ti Fan
Rating, all over: NC-17
Warnings, all over: Explicit sex and violence. Shameless Romance. This is not an angst-fest.
Word count, this part: 6,400
Notes: List of all chapters over @ IJ here. This fic is for elfflame who wanted me to put Magira in this situation.
Summary: When Carlo comes home from a business trip only to discover that Magira has left him, he has to change the passive way he usually takes when it comes to defending his relationship with the charming, but spoiled young player. Carlo has once offered to wager his entire fortune in exchange for Magira's company. This time, Carlo has to realise that his life might be at stake as well...



Back to chapter 8


9. Friends and Enemies

In the dark Ethan groans, stumbles and turns over a chair. He swears and sighs, mumbling something rude. Magira reluctantly opens his eyes, turns in the bed and reaches for the switch on the bedside table lamp. A dim golden light lights up the room; enough for Magira to see Ethan's bruised face. Magira cannot muster enough hate to feel satisfied. He, too, knows how it feels to be in love so deeply that one's common sense disappears and leaves only a human being in desperate longing for the loved one. 'They didn't like that you insisted on your prize, did they?' Magira says softly. 'Ethan Hughes, you are a fool.'

'Yeah,' Ethan agrees, nods and winces. 'Ouch. Maybe I should lie down.' He touches his face carefully, as if to find out how badly he is hurt.

'Before you faint, please. I suppose your idea has merit...' Magira feels oddly sympathetic. Ethan's ruined face makes it clear that Magira is not the only victim here. Ethan is truly a fool, and somebody - in this case the casino tycoon - knows how to use him. This kind of empathy is foreign to Magira. He wonders briefly if he is actually growing up, then discards the thought. He sighs, then gets out of bed, the chain that is attached to his lift wrist jingling slightly.

'I'm sorry, Magira,' Ethan says quietly. 'I shouldn't have...' He closes his eyes and groans once more; the pain clear in the way he closes his eyes. One is half-closed and on its way to turning a vivid blackish purple.

'No, you shouldn't.' Magira finds a wash cloth and turns on the cold water, soaking the wash cloth in it. 'I take it this is your reward for your behaviour earlier?' Magira watches as Ethan gets into their common bed, carefully, as if every movement hurts.

'Yes. And they were generous while dealing it.' Ethan leans back in the pillows. He looks disappointed and sad. 'If I can't control myself when they hand you to somebody else, I won't be allowed to be with you at all, they said. They beat me up a second time when I tried to make them swear they wouldn't give you to other men again.'

'How could you ever believe that someone who is willing to kidnap me also is willing to keep his promise to you?' Magira asks and begins to wash the tears and snot and blood off Ethan's face. 'Not the sharpest knife, are you.' Such a fool. A naive fool. Magira is so uplifted and happy about the evening's events; so relieved to see Shu-san and his policeman friend that he is almost able to forgive Ethan for this idiocy and the pain he has inflicted on Carlo.

'I didn't think, I said,' Ethan snaps and moans as the mere movement of his split lip makes the pain flare; probably reminding him that he really, really isn't able to think at all.

Magira watches Ethan's pained expression. He is good at reading people; the player's instinctive intuition. Ethan's pain is not just physical. 'They are going to let you take the blame for this when the police find us, you are aware of that, right?' Magira says, as he carefully tries to wash the blood off Ethan's nose. It looks broken.

'I didn't think they would, but... maybe I need to rethink,' Ethan says. 'Maybe forcing... isn't the way.' He shakes. Maybe he is cold, or the shock of being beaten up like this is finally catching up with him.

'You think anything is broken? Apart from your nose,' Magira asks, and pulls the duvet over Ethan. The boy is pathetic and Magira truly can't hate him as much as he wants to. But Ethan is gullible, and Magira is waking up; alert and ready to play his hand and win. 'You know that we should be very grateful if we get out alive?' Magira says, baiting the hook. 'You are trouble, and I am disposable as soon as they are done playing with me. They are going to kill us both or they are teaming up and blaming you. Kidnapping is not just going to get you a reprimand in this country,' Magira continues. 'You are facing maybe fifteen years. Seems the best part of your life will be lived out inside one of the lovely prisons they have here in this horrid place.' Magira smirks. 'Personally, I'd rather be dead. A pretty boy like you will be raped daily, I'm sure. A bit like me, passed around between the men and women your employer wants to appease.'

'I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Magira...' Ethan lets out a loud sob. 'I just wanted you for myself... I'm sorry... I didn't think they'd do this...' Ethan's eyes are filled with tears. 'I just wanted you,' he repeats and covers his eyes with a hand, obviously ashamed of himself. 'I'm so... in love... with you,' he sobs.

'But you can't take other people like that, on a whim,' Magira says softly, reminding himself that he once fell into that trap with Katou Youji-san. Maybe he truly is growing up? 'I am not someone other men can take, Ethan. I am not a thing. I belong to Carlo because I want to belong to him, and no one is allowed to question that or decide otherwise on my behalf.' Magira can't stop a smile from blooming on his lips. Yes, he certainly is growing up. Choosing Carlo as his lover was perhaps the first conscious choice in his life; the first step on the way to being responsible and reliable. As it is now, Magira longs so much for Carlo and the life they have together that his body and heart ache. Carlo and happiness are words that go together well, and Magira wants his life back. Now.

Ethan's tears finally stop and Magira wipes his face once more. 'Ethan,' he says quietly. 'This can't go on, you are aware of that, I take it? We are going to do something.' Magira takes a deep breath, deciding to make a risky draw. 'I'll try to help you too. I am trying to get out. Are you with me?'



The sun is a glowing orange hovering languidly in the horizon as if it is reluctant to disappear. The fading slender-fingered light caresses the hoods of the five neutral blue cars, making their shiny surfaces reflect the night that impatiently waits for the sun to leave. Carlo is just as impatient. He sits in the front seat of the large Ford, distractedly fondling a small leather case. It holds a gun. Carlo knows how to use it and he is not unfamiliar with shooting, although he has never aimed a gun - any gun - on a live target. He prays that he won't have to today.

'Five minutes,' the old detective says. He is sitting next to Carlo, calmly, used to waiting, waiting, waiting. 'We don't want to get there before time; we need the darkness as cover.'

Carlo knows that, they have made plans all day. He suspects the detective is trying to relive his impatient nervousness. It does help. 'Maybe we really should call in the police?' Carlo asks, somewhat out of the blue, knowing that is a last resolve. 'This is a grave risk to take.'

'No graver than letting a bunch of gung-ho special force boys and their gung-ho superior loose on the house. None of us are trigger happy, and if we were in the P.I. business for the glory, we'd not have lasted long.' The detective sends Carlo a smile. 'You know all this already, Mr Monte Carlo. Stop being nervous. We know what we're doing.'

Yes, they know what they are doing - just like their back-up that comes in the shape of six hardened, cold, serious men. It is the old detective who has called them in. Carlo doesn't know from where, but he rugged faces and the reddish tan suggests that they might have been working in a country with a harsher climate recently, not that the Nevada desert is especially pleasant either. Carlo is sure the men know each other well; that is the impression he gets from watching them. They are economic. No superfluous words or movements. Effective. Not the least gung-ho. Soldiers of fortune, maybe. And the small, hired army is ready to take over if needed. Carlo sighs and closes the car door to let the air-condition take effect. He looks through the toned window at the car next to theirs: Shu and Sawa-san sits there already. Sawa looks pretty in a blue dress and Shu matches her, casually clad in designer jeans and a dark blue silk shirt. Neither of them carry any weapons or concealed microphones. It is too risky; Shu has revealed an extraordinary interest in Magira to the casino tycoon, and despite the fact that no one knows about their connection it might be enough to rise the kidnappers' suspicion.

On the car's back seat Shouji and one of the other private investigators sit silently. Carlo looks up, into the mirror, watching Shouji's neutral face for a few seconds. Shouji opens his eyes, as he knows he is being watched. 'Strap your gun on,' Shouji says without straightening up. 'Don't fiddle. You are going to end up in the statistics, or we are, if you continue.'

The cars hum softly towards Tournament Hills. At a crossroad a mile before they reach the casino tycoon's mansion, three of the cars with the detectives and one of the soldiers leave and drive south to go around the park. The remaining soldiers are going to follow Carlo's car and wait close to the main entrance. However, If Shu and Sawa are calling for reinforcements them there will be no need for stealth. The car's front and chassis are... improved a bit and it will go through the iron gate if it has to. Carlo suspects the quiet, serious men has other means if the car is not enough. It scares him and calms him at the same time. Half a mile before they reach the mansion, Carlo's car turns down a small, pebbly road while Shu and Sawa drive on. Sawa, raising his hand for goodbye is all Carlo sees before they are gone.



'Dress. Now.' The guard unlocks Magira's chain and throws it on the bed.

Magira lifts the garment the guard has given him between two fingers. He wrinkles his nose. 'This is a woman's kimono. I cannot wear that! Do I look like a cross-dresser to you? And where's the obi? I need something to tie it with.'

'Kimono, schimono. It's a fucking Jap bathrobe. Get it on. The customers have bought a Japanese boy to play with, so you better look it when we get up there. Or do you want a taste of Ethan's medicine?' The huge guard steps closer, threateningly.

Magira sneers a rude offence in Japanese, including the guard's ancestors, a goat, a dog and a duck. He is not even sure what it suggests is physically possible. '-and your mother,' he adds in English, unable to keep quiet. He has just about had it. They are not going to hurt him just before the "customer" they have sold him to arrives. He gets a grip on himself. He needs to act mature and cold - Shu and his friend are expecting him to do his best and to avoid ruining their plan. They'll get only this chance. If they blow it, Magira and Ethan will surely be disposed of, rather lethally, and so will Sawa-san and Shu-san. The sentence for kidnapping is long. Together with the various other offences the tycoon and his men have committed, a murder or two can't make it much worse.

'Wanna go naked, brat?' the guard asks and pushes Magira toward the door. 'Not that it matters - we're going to watch you anyway.'

'You've sold me like a common whore, and now you tell me you have wired the room? 'Magira snaps and pulls on the kimono. He really doesn't want to go naked. It isn't as bad as being the unwilling star in a peep show. He wonders briefly if this dressing up in kimono has more to do with the fact that he can't hide anything in his clothes - and that he need both hands to keep the kimono together... No, no obi to tie it with. Morons. Magira huffs and follows the guard.

'You too,' the man says and turns around to look at Ethan. 'Your employer finds that it will be educational for you to wait outside with me while your little amour is getting it up the arse. "Ethan must learn not to let jealousy get the better of him," he said. Not that I understand why you find it so appealing to smear your cock with-'

'That's enough!' Magira says, loudly. 'Ethan, come on.' Don't give them another reason to beat you, Magira wants to say, and he tries to communicate the warning without words. 'I don't care to do this either. Are you coming with me?' he asks, repeating his earlier question, hoping Ethan will understand that what they get now is a chance to escape. 'Please, Ethan?'

'I'm with you,' Ethan says, just as firmly and pushes himself up from the bed with some difficulty. It is clear that he's in pain.

'Would you please get Ethan something for those bruises?' Magira says as they walk up the stairs. 'All that moaning is horrible to listen to.' As Magira doesn't know what Sawa-san and Shu-san have planned, Ethan needs to be able to move. Magira plays with the thought of leaving the moron, but he has convinced himself that Ethan will end his life as filling in some concrete base of a bridge or building somewhere if someone doesn't rescue the fool. No, Ethan is an idiot, but he's not so much of an idiot that he needs to die for it. Not that Magira won't punish Ethan for his crime when they're out of here. Revenge will be fun.



Shu and Sawa are welcomed by a maid in a black dress. She takes their coats and Shu's bag. A badly hidden manoeuvre to make sure they don't bring any mobile phones, probably. 'This way, please,' she says and leads them through the impressive hall, up the stairs to the second floor. 'Mr Magira is expecting you,' she informs them. 'If you need anything, please use the phone on the bedside table. It connects directly to the servants' quarters. If there are any... problems, there is a guard next door; feel free to alert him.'

'Thank you.' Shu nods graciously, wondering how many of the household's members that know about the kidnapping.

The maid opens the door to an opulent bedroom. The large bed, hung with heavy light blue velvet curtains around the mahogany frame, seems more like a floating island on a sea of a deep dark velvet-feeling carpet. Oh, well. If one likes the bordello style...

Magira is standing by the window, looking fragile and proud at the same time. A pastel blue kimono, embroidered with flowering sakura branches pools around his bare feet. In the dim light Magira seems almost ethereally beautiful, and Shu regrets that this is not... real. Just for a moment, he regrets that he is not going to have this lovely boy to himself, to do with as he pleases. Then the the thought of Shouji, and especially of how Shouji better than anyone else knows precisely what Shu needs, replaces the improper ideas. Despite Shu's desire for Shouji, he doesn't even care to feel ashamed that he is attracted to Magira as well. He is only human, and Magira is one of the most beautiful young men Shu has ever seen.



Magira smiles softly, holding a hand out, as if to welcome the man and woman he is not supposed to know - the man and woman his kidnapper has sold him to. He is careful not to show any excitement; only the kind, fake smile reaches his lips. His eyes are sad. He makes sure no one can see through him, see the joy and hope that bubbles inside him. Freedom.

'Magira-kun, it is a pleasure to see you,' Sawa says as he takes Magira's hand. 'It will be an exquisite pleasure to spend the night with you.'

'Likewise,' Magira says before the door closes behind them and Magira's welcoming smile fades. He brushes a finger over his lips, hoping they'll understand. If it is as Shu-san says - that Sawa-san is a former policeman - he might already suspect that they are being watched.

Sawa does understand, playing the game to the fullest. 'Magira-kun,' he purrs, 'I have been looking forward to this... you are just as beautiful as I remembered it.' Sawa wraps his arms around Magira's neck, sending him a seductive look before he turns his head and asks Shu-san to join them. 'Darling... come...' Sawa urges. 'I cannot enjoy this pretty boy if you're not with me.'

Magira braces himself. He doesn't know how far they are going to take this, but he can do it. If necessary, he can do it. For Carlo. Shu-san is beautiful and Sawa-san is kind and understanding. It will not be a destiny worse than death to have sex with them. He takes a deep breath and presses back the tears that mysteriously have found their way to the corners of his eyes. For Carlo. Magira can do anything to get out, to be with his beloved again. 'Please,' Magira whispers timidly, and reaches for Shu. 'Please, Shu-san?'

'Maybe we shouldn't talk too much,' Shu says. 'There are other more interesting things we can do.' Shu embraces Magira from behind, kissing his neck. 'One never knows who might be listening,' he murmurs, almost inaudibly.

'No, maybe we shouldn't.' Magira is relived. They understand. Not even Japanese is safe - they don't know who is listening. Magira leans back in Shu's embrace, relaxing under his touch. It is a relief that both his rescuers know, or rather suspect, that they are other people watching and listening. 'What do you want? I am all yours for tonight,' Magira offers, letting Shu and Sawa know that there will be no fretting over anything they need to do.

'Let's turn down the light a bit,' Shu says, 'and go to bed. It is after all more comfortable than standing, although it might have its advantages at times.' Shu slides his hands down Magira's body, pushing back the kimono. He caresses Magira's side tenderly, as if to apologise for what he is doing.

'Kiss me?' Sawa enquires, giving Magira a questioning look as Shu turns down the light. The lamp blinks a couple of times, as if it has decided to be a bit temperamental.



Carlo's mobile phone vibrates, signalling an incoming call. 'Yes?' There is no need for presentation. Only the detectives and their small army have the number.

'Got them. Second floor, left wing. Lamp trick worked. No one reacted to it.' The rough voice belongs to one of the soldiers. 'We're going over the fence now. Smith and Johnson are pulling the plug to their alarm system at 20:30. Peters is taking down the guard at the gates; we move in when the alarm's off. He and I will be below the window three minutes later. Get ready.'

'Understood.' Carlo knows what is happening. They have gone over the plan so many times. He has nothing else to say, or maybe it is because his heart is suddenly frozen with fear. Nothing can happen to Magira. Carlo doesn't fear for his own life, but if they have hurt Magira... there is no limits to what he will do to the kidnappers. Maybe he is stupid to insist on going in with the other men, but waiting is worse. Nevertheless, Carlo can hold his own. He is not a soldier nor a detective, but he doesn't need a babysitter either.

'You drive directly to the house,' the soldier orders. 'Guns ready, car doors unlocked. As soon as we have Mr Magira, Mr Shu and Mr Sawa down from the second floor, you're driving out as fast as possible. We'll manage what's left.'

'So?' Shouji looks at Carlo, his face neutral. If he is worried about Magira and Shu, it isn't visible in the neutral, expressionless face. Carlo realises it has to be even more nerve-wrecking and straining for Shouji: he has both his nephew and his... soon-to-be lover out there, both risking their lives.

'Thirty minutes,' Carlo says. 'This is not a game I enjoy playing.'

'Me neither.' Shouji's eyes are suddenly worried. 'But I'll make sure our opponents will enjoy it even less if they have hurt Magira or Sh-' Shouji shuts his mouth a bit too soon, or a bit too late, depending on point of view.

'Yes,' Carlo says, smiling for the first time. 'Or Shu-san.'



Magira is aroused. He doesn't want to be, but Sawa's gentle kisses and Shu's warm body against his own feel so delightful: friendly touches from people he likes... it is unbearably good - more comfort than sex, of course. He cannot imagine that Shu-san and Sawa-san really want to do this. Despite their arousal, Magira doesn't want to see it or feel it as anything but stress relief. They are staging a play, of course, for the benefit of the people who are spying on them.

The lack of communication is a problem. All Magira knows is that the two men would not be here without having a plan. But how the hell is he going to know what they want from him? Letting the pleasurable touches pull him back into reality, Magira caresses Shu's naked back. If Magira hadn't found Carlo, he would have slept with Shu-san a couple of years ago anyway, so what's the big deal? Shu-san has touched every spot on Magira's body before this evening. Magira closes his eyes and slides a finger along Shu's backbone, further down, until he reaches the lining of Shu's trousers. If he doesn't look, it is easier to pretend it is Carlo who holds him close. Their breaths are mingled as Shu takes over Magira's mouth; wet, with swollen, thoroughly kissed lips. Magira lets his hand wander back, upwards, on Shu's silken skin. Midway, he freezes. He has got a brilliant idea!

Shu senses the hesitation and lets go of Magira's mouth.

'Mmm, good,' Magira sighs, and begins to draw the two simple hiragana symbols for the word. Slowly, slowly, emphasising what he is doing, he repeats. Good, he moans again, drawing the symbols a second time. The movements will look like nothing but caresses to any onlooker.

'Clever boy,' Shu groans and kisses Magira again, eagerly. 'Such nimble fingers.'

Magira sighs and draws the kanji for eye, to indicate that they are indeed being watched, then continues with the symbols for friend and next door.

Shu turns pulls Magira up on his knees, facing him. 'Yes, like this, so I can watch you,' he demands; his hands already on Magira's back. The signs for bring friend? and friends outside make Magira's eyes widen in pleasure that has nothing to do with their touches. 'Are you ready for more action,' Shu groans and pushes his hand between Magira's legs, clearly careful not to touch him too intimately.

'Oh, yes! Damned, yes!' Magira sighs. 'You want it now?' he asks, unable to keep the hopeful excitement out of his voice.

'Let's not be too eager, my lovely,' Sawa-san says and pulls Magira's discarded kimono out from under them. He might have realised that Magira and Shu are communicating. 'And now you are ruining this pretty garment,' Sawa scolds, 'Magira-kun, you are going to walk around naked if you are careless with your clothes.' Sawa embraces Magira from behind, covering Shu's hands. 'I think I want you to put it on again,' Sawa demands, 'There is nothing as sexy as such a beautiful young man in a expensive kimono, dishevelled and ready to do our bidding.'

Glancing at the watch he is still wearing, Shu draws the kanji for Fifteen minutes, and repeats them when Magira doesn't understand the first time and raising a questioning eyebrow. The second time he gets it. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes before he can have his freedom and Carlo back! Magira laughs and wraps his arms around Shu's neck. 'Shu-san, I'll do anything you say.' This time the kiss is enthusiastic and for Shu, not for the shadow of Carlo.



Carlo's mobile rings again, muted, only the slight vibrations alert him. How can it not; he is clinging the small phone like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. 'One minute,' is the message. 'Drive slowly toward the main gate, no lights.' The soldier cuts off before Carlo can say anything, not that he has anything to say. This is it. This is a game he does not intend to lose. 'We're off,' he says. 'I just pray that none of us get hurt.'

'If everybody stick to the plan and let us take care of any troubles, no one will,' the driver says. He is wearing some kind of odd glasses. Carlo knows it is a device that makes the soldiers able to see in the dark. The soldier sounds very sure of their capacity. It takes the edge off Carlo's nervousness.

'We will. That's the reason we are here, isn't it? To avoid bloodshed?' Carlo just wants this to be over. He can feel the gun it its shoulder holster; a reminder that things can indeed go awfully wrong.

'We're professionals, Mr Monte Carlo. And we don't have a boss who wants results and arrests, no matter the body count.' The driver lets the car roll slowly down the forest road.

Carlo doesn't think the police is that bad. He doesn't say it, though. He is just happy that these men all - contrary to the police - seem to have taken an interest in getting Magira out in one piece, and unharmed. The P.I.s and their army friends are obviously utterly indifferent to whom their employer is going to bed with. As long as he pays, he'll have their undivided loyalty. Carlo has money enough to purchase a lot of that particular commodity.

The gate is open and the guard in the sentry box is gone. The soldiers' car is waiting for them, engine on. As soon as they catch up, the other car drives on. Shouji pats Carlo's knee. His hand feels slightly sweaty, even through the fabric. In the weak moonlight they can see the mansion; a dark threatening shape against the moonlit sky. 'A bit like Rebecca seeing Manderley for the first time,' Carlo says. It earns him a questioning look from Shouji. 'A famous novel. And a Hitchcock film. It had a happy end,' Carlo explains, keeping an eye on the road, as if the black shadows would reveal anything other than more dark shadows.

'I know Hitchcock-sama. And I suppose the film is one in which the heroine goes through a lot of danger?' Shouji says. 'Before the hero charges and saves her?'

'Not really. The hero is more an anti-hero, and a coward.' Carlo is happy to be distracted. He'd rather discuss Hitchcock than think about what is going to happen in a few minutes. 'I think the heroine is the real hero, to be honest.'

'That's the good kind of hero,' the soldier adds. 'All those bloody idiots who want to wield a sword, at least mentally... they are the ones who end up dead.'

There is that, Carlo thinks. The cars have reached the house and turns left to drive around the main wing, to the left wing. To Magira.



Shu-san has been keeping track of time, in between the kissing and caressing. Sawa-san has insisted that Magira put on the kimono - Magira is grateful, escaping is good, but he prefer not to do it naked. For the first time in his life he is actually worried about his dignity - he does not want to return to Carlo without some kind of clothes on. In that regard the light blue kimono is not too bad - apart from the missing obi, and despite the fact that it is a woman's kimono.

'I'm so hot,' Sawa-san purrs. 'Shu...'

'Something that can be relieved by opening a window, or do you want this?' Shu pulls Sawa's hand down to cup his bollocks through the fabric. 'Everything for my lady, you know that now,' Shu says and kisses Sawa deeply.

'Both,' Sawa sighs. 'Air condition is not the same as the cool evening air - it is not fresh.' He smiles. 'Open the window, and I'll open my legs for you,' he teases, moving closer to the edge of the bed. 'And you, my lovely,' Sawa tells Magira. 'Are you ready for this?'

Is he ready? 'Oh yes,' Magira says. 'Tell me what to do, Sawa-san. Please.'

'Take the chair over there,' Sawa demands, 'and pull it over here.' Sawa points to the side of the bed that is closest to the door. Magira does what he is asked, although he is not sure why Sawa wants the furniture to be moved around. Magira doesn't ask.

With a creaking sound, Shu opens the window. There are no other sounds; the wind in the trees is a distant rustle. 'Ah, lovely evening,' Shu says and breathes in the cool air. 'I think we better get on with our plan.'

'Yes, I have longed for that,' Sawa agrees. 'Magira, would you please step over to Shu-kun.' It is not a question. Magira nods and wraps the kimono around himself. They both get out of bed. Sawa grabs the chair and puts it in front of the door, under the handle. It is not going to be easy to get in from outside now.

'Now,' Shu says, and it takes only a second before a hook with a rope attached is thrown over the window sill. A man Magira has never seen before climbs up, hanging outside the window. 'You first, Mr Magira. Quick!'

Their urgency is emphasised by a sudden banging on the door. 'Mr Shu? Ms Sawa? What is going on?' There is a pause. 'Get over here, Hughes!' the guard demands, directing his frustration at Ethan. 'I should have known... you have planned this with him, haven't you, you little cheat?' There is a sound, as of someone has been punched. 'Move away, arsehole,' the guard roars and kicks at the door, hard enough to make the frame creak and split. It won't take long until the door is down.

Magira is out of the window and into the arms of a bulky army-type guy. 'Please, hurry and get Ethan out, too, if you can,' he pleads as the soldier lower them down to the ground. 'They are going to kill him!' Another rope is up and Shu is out too, dangling in the darkness for seconds before they are down on the ground.

Two other soldiers are up the ropes, while Magira and Shu's rescuers are helping them stand. 'Sawa-san... don't let him get caught!'

Even from the ground they can hear the guard. 'Intruders! The boy's escaping!' The guard yells as he continues his attack on the splintered bedroom door frame. 'Outside! Get them outside!' Bang! Another kick makes the frame give in. The house is suddenly wide awake; lights are lit and doors are opened, there are people running and shouting.

There's a pause, everybody is holding their breath as the soldiers climb up to the second floor. Then they can hear the guard. 'What the fuck are you doing, bitch?' the man shouts. 'What the hell is this? A freak show.' The guard clearly has realised that Sawa-san might not be quite the woman he thought. 'We're getting Monte Carlo for this! He's going to suffer, I swear.'

'I suppose I'm no lady,' Sawa says. 'Sorry 'bout that. I still don't like people swearing. As for Mr Monte Carlo, I think he has enough on you lot to give you... how long is a life sentence in this country, again?' No one can hear the guard's reply. What they can hear is the impact of something hard hitting flesh, then the sound of the guard screaming and sobbing.

'Ah,' one of the detectives says coldly. 'Sawa-san has just demonstrated that little kick-trick of hers. Sounds as if the guy has to have his balls surgically removed from his tonsils.'

On the second floor, the soldiers helps Sawa to push a clearly unconscious person out of the window. Ethan, Magira knows. He sighs relieved. He is not fond of the guy, but Ethan's untimely death would haunt him for the rest of his life, Magira is certain.

Sawa follows them, on bare feet. 'By best heels,' Sawa growls dissatisfied, loud enough for them to hear. 'I'll have them pay for this!' No, stilettos are not made for rappelling.

As soon as Sawa and the unconscious Ethan are on the ground, the soldiers are hurrying Shu and Sawa to their car. One of the solders have Ethan on his back; it doesn't seem to cost him more strength than to carry a sack of potatoes. 'Carlo?' Magira asks. 'Is Carlo here?' He can see the outline of several cars; dark blue against the dark sky. The hunger for his lover is so strong that it hurts, an unquenchable ache inside him, in his heart.

'In the car over there.' One of the detectives points to the car in question. 'Better hurry, Mr Magira. We need to get out.' The detective's words about urgency are true. Outside in the dark they can hear the sound of running feet. The pinpoints of light coming from the guards' torches are getting closer.

Magira wraps the kimono tightly around himself, trying not to trip in the too-long garment. In the same way he tries to gather his dignity. He will not be reunited with his lover and act like a spoiled brat. Carlo has probably been worried sick, and Magira wants to be strong for him. It strikes Magira that this whole affair has been more taxing for Carlo. As for himself, nothing has really happened that wasn't bearable. Magira raises his head proudly and walks the last steps over to the car that waits for him, engine humming, ready to take him away from this dreadful place, back to his home, to his life with Carlo. There is nothing else in the world he wants but that - no one else but Carlo for him.



Carlo watches as dark shadows move around the other cars. He can see Shu's and Sawa's silhouettes in the light from the mansion. Someone else, someone who is not Magira, is dumped in the bottom of one of the cars. And there... there... Magira... Carlo can hardly hold his relieved tears back. 'Magira!' Carlo wants to get out of the car. He wants to hold Magira in his arms, to tell him how missed he has been, how loved, how utterly loved! As if Carlo didn't already know, he doesn't want a life without the spoiled, reckless, immature brat. 'Magira!' No one can hear him but Shouji and their driver, but Carlo feels as if these last seconds of his long wait is driving him closer to insanity than he has ever been. All the unemotional patience he has been clinging to for days is gone.

Shouji's hand on Carlo's wrist - a hard grip around Carlo's lean arm - is all that prevents him from getting out of the car to embrace Magira. It is as if the tall man approaching the car is so different from the boy that was taken away from him: as if his Casino Lily has grown into a man in these few nerve-wrecking days.

'Don't,' Shouji warns. 'We need to get out quickly. You can smooch all you like when Magira is in here. Please do as the soldiers have instructed, Carlo-san!'

Carlo knows that. Shouji has been just as worried as he has, but luckily Shouji is able to keep his calm. Shouji is right, of course. 'I won't,' Carlo says and pushes the car door open to let Magira in. Oh God, how he has missed him! 'Magira... hurry,' Carlo urges and reaches for his lover.

'I think not.' There is a sound in the dark as if someone has charged a gun. 'I think that you all are leaving. Except of course Mr Magira here.'

Carlo can't breathe.

Of course freeing Magira wasn't going to be this easy...