Japan. September. Present day.
Yohji wakes up when the sun touches his eyes. He doesn't like that at all so he pulls the sheet over his head, glaring, and curses. His body feels hot. On fire, and all over. The ghost of lingering touches from the night before. A mouth at his throat, fingers across his bare thighs, and something hot and hard buried deep inside. He feels it all over. His mouth opens in a silent gasp.
Then he remembers it's not real. The owner of those fingers and mouth is long gone.
"You do know that after tonight I won't come back."
"You'll be sorry in the morning."
"I don't give a fuck."
"I thought that was the whole point."
"Shut up you bastard. Shut up and fuck me."
Yohji winces at the memory. He is sorry. Sorry he gave in and said yes in order to make one last memory. Because all it did was get Schuldig even deeper under his skin, let him own another piece of Yohji's heart.
It hardly mattered now.
The ghosts of fingers are all he'll ever have. Schuldig left that morning for some unknown country, left Japan for good, and Yohji would never see him again.
Never again as long as he stayed in Japan.
With some effort Yohji gets out of bed, dresses, and walks over to the apartment next door. He knocks and waits just a few moments until a bleary eyed Omi opens the door. "Yohji, it's Sunday, and it's six in the morning. What are you doing awake at six in the morning?"
Yohji forces a smile to his lips. "I need a favor. I need you to find someone for me."