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CHAPTER THREE
“Taidaima!!”
Ken blinked. And blinked again. There was something decidedly tense about the flower shop today. Something that he couldn’t quite place his finger on, but made his reflexes borne from fighting millions of nameless villains in the night tingle as if the very air was charged.
Was there a mission? He glanced at the only other occupant around. No, if there was, doubtless Youji would have informed him by now, and not sitting by the counter with a pile of stubbed out cigarettes gracing his tray. Not continuing to silently read the latest sports car magazine, eyes surreptuously checking the door as if watching for something. Upon his arrival to Koneko, the blond had lifted his eyes in wariness but the tension had bled away considerably when he recognized Ken who had just came back from soccer practice with the kids.
Assassins then. It had to be someone who was after Weiß. Someone who might waltz in through the door and do everyone in. And if they were bold enough to stride in the shop in broad daylight under the scrutiny of the public and made I-am-too-cool-for-anything debonair Youji Kudou more than slightly unnerved, they had to be powerful.
Ken put down his soccer ball and isotonic drink and made his way to his friend.
“Is Schwarz here?” Voice lowered, he asked.
“Schwarz? No, why would they want to come here? They have had no reason for some time already.” Youji’s nervous eyes flickered to the clock that was sitting on the counter and the door. It didn’t take much of a genius to figure out that something was troubling the man. Badly.
“Youji, are you okay? You’ve been smoking quite a lot these past few days. What’s wrong?” Ken studied the blonde member with worry, his keen eyes spotting the uneasiness.
“Stress.” Youji muttered succinctly while he continued puffing heavily on the cigarette.
“About what?” Ken asked, one brow raised as he studied the normally debonair playboy smoke the cigarette as if it was his last.
Which Youji actually happened to think it might be as the door chime rang, heralding the entrance of one short petite purple-haired girl. Tall as the two were, there was recently a delivery of large full-grown bamboo shoots that currently shrouded the counter from immediate detection. It was an advantage that Kudou Youji was determined to make use of.
“Uh oh, gotta go. Gotta run. See you. Talk to you later. Hot date. Waiting. You didn’t see me.” Babbling nervously, Youji suddenly stubbed out his cigarette and disappearing down the basement. Ken’s eyebrows rose. Actually disappearing would be putting it nicely. Youji was literally one minute here and the next minute running down. He didn’t even bother taking his florist apron off.
But there was no time to consider such curious events as when he turned around, he stared down into wide guileless blue eyes, wide with expectation.
“Ken are you free next Saturday?”
Ken blinked.