Delian

It was rather ironic how people ended up back where they began. Ghent paused just inside the door and looked about the room in disbelief. He had not been imagining it. This was Stae's old house.

Ghent glanced over at his stoic friend. Stae seemed to show no sign that he even recognized the place, and it was entirely possible that he did not. Ghent did not know how or when his friend had develop some form of amnesia, but there was no doubting he had. Stae was not that good of an actor. Playing con-man was Ghent's job, sharp shooting was Stae's. Granted, it had been over five years between the last time they had met and when they had joined forces about six months ago. Personality wise, very little about Stae had changed. He was still the quiet, moody, perfectionist he had always been; he just did not recognize Ghent at all or remember much of anything about the time they had known one another. As far as Stae knew, they had only just met half a year ago. It drove Ghent crazy, as any mystery was bound to do, but he never let on. If Stae did not remember, Ghent was not going to push it. Sometimes people had reasons for forgetting things.

Ghent glanced around the room, soaking in the details. He had known this place almost as well as the apartment him and his Uncle had lived in. The wooden walls had decayed more over the years, but they were still in fairly good shape, considering what district of Delian they were in. There was not much to the place, it was like most of the other houses in the area. The floor was cover in a thick layer of dirt, and the floor boards underneath creaked with each step Stae took. The walls were made of the same type of gray wood, and a cloud of dust particles floated around the room, reflecting the suns cold rays. There were only two windows, both facing the street and both primarily boarded over. Tiny cracks hover, where the wood had finally given let what little light they had in. Good thing the electricity in the city was working again; Ghent would prefer to keep those boards up if he could and maybe even add to them if it could be done discreetly. Ghent shook his head. He was starting to get as paranoid as Stae.

Stae cleared his throat and Ghent found himself on the receiving end of a very cold glare. "Would you like to help me..." Stae drawled in the annoying way that only he could.

Ghent grinned and dumped his bag by the door. Quickly the two men got the fold up table and chairs they had brought erected, and Stae started to unpack all of his tools, carefully laying them out in orderly rows. Ghent rolled his eyes, then slouched down in one of the chairs. "Why'd ya pick this place, Stae?" He asked causally. All right, so he was curious, it was in his nature. He made it a business to know other people's business, and that applied to his partner as well. That it was just plain creepy the way the guy completely forgot certain things, like smoking. Stae nearly died of asphyxiation when he had tried to one night. The Stae Ghent had known as a child had smoked like a chimney. It just did not make sense.

Stae shrugged at Ghent's question, not looking up. "The foundations good, and there's an upstairs with an escape root. With a little more fortification, it should be adequate."

Damn. Ghent grinned, and brushed off his disappointment. "What the hell you preparin' for? The fucking Kitrle army?" Ghent chuckled, then leaned forward. "Listen, Stae, if this job goes so bad that they come after us, then there's already a problem, ne?" He said reassuringly. Stae did not respond, and continued to sort through his belongings. Ghent sighed in frustration. "I'm going up stairs." He muttered, pushing himself up to his feet and sauntering to the stairs in the back. They were narrower than he remembered, but just about as creaky. The second floor was about as bad as the bottom, except its floors were a little less dusty and a little more creaky. The window in the middle of the far wall was not covered however, and a corner of the lower piece was broken. Ghent glanced around. He had been up there a couple times when he had been young. He had to admit, the place had improved. He walked over to the window, and forced it open despite the falling glass that sliced his hands, mercilessly. A couple more scars would not matter. He brushed some of the loose glass away, and cleaned off the sill until he was sure all the splinters were gone. He sat done then, and swung his legs out. Once he was settled, he set to picking the pieces of glass out of his hands ideally. The street did not look very different at all from were he was sitting, except, the last time he had sat on that sill it had been dark, and his best friend had been sitting beside him. Things had seemed easier back then, trying to find shapes in the stars. At least for that moment everything had seemed simple. They had not need to worry about if they were in danger, or about drunken fathers, or angry brothers, or where they were going to get their next meal. That had been a couple weeks before Ghent's Uncle had died.

Ghent tried to push the memory away. He had lost the only man he had looked at as a father, his home, and his best friend in a matter of a couple of days. He had bounced back, however, he reminded himself. He had made it, and he did not want to get choked up now, after all this time. He was with his best friend again; even if the other man did not remember anything. That did not matter. He still acted like the same man. They would just have to make new memories to replace the old, and they were not doing too bad of a job at it. Ghent managed a weak grin. He and Stae were on their way to be the two most respected thieves in a city all but run on crime. Not too shabby for a couple of orphans.

"Ghent!" Stae's deep voice called up to him. "How the hell do you work this thing?"

"Shit!" Ghent exclaimed, knowing exactly what the other man was talking about. Ghent rushed to stand up, almost loosing his balance. "Don't touch it!" He commanded, hurrying down the stairs. Stae had an amazing ability at killing computers and Ghent was not eager to see his prized tool go down the drain. He had had to steal that from the one place in Delian were there was enough money to make something like that, and trying to break into those ritzy houses was like walking on a tight rope, with just as lethal results for failure.

He pounded down the stairs to find Stae pouting from under his long black bangs, sitting with Ghent's lap-top open before him. "I didn't do anything." He muttered, obviously annoyed by the lack of trust Ghent showed in him. "Maybe, if you had started doing something useful, I wouldn't have even needed to pull the damned thing out."

Ghent mimicked his voice mockingly as he stalked across the short room, and turned the computer away from Stae and to face himself. He flipped the switch and frowned when nothing happened.

"See!"

Ghent stuck his tongue out, then checked out the back of the machine. "Damn, not that either." He muttered. "Did you plug it in?"

"Of course I did!" Stae snapped.

Ghent sighed, and went over to where it was hooked in. He pushed at it slightly, but it did not move, so he unplugged it, then shoved it back in. "Try it now." He said and Stae leaned over to flip it on but nothing happened. Ghent sighed again. "Hand me a screw driver, and a pair of tweezers. Did you check the electricity on this thing before he bought it?"

Stae grabbed Ghent's book-bag and fished out his small tool kit. "No." He replied without embarrassment as he handed the requested items over. "Maybe the sector's down again. The grid here has never been very good. That's what you get when you have a gang like Arashi in charge of the power." Stae watched over Ghent's shoulder as the blond man pried the casing off of the electrical port, and started to pick at the wires.

"Damn, it's what I thought." He finally announced, sitting back on the floor. "Wires are completely ruined. You didn't think this place would hold up, did ya?"

"What?"

Shit. Let that one slip. Well, he was bound to make a mistake somewhere, at least this one would be easy to cover.

"Ghent," Stae asked in curiosity, but without any suspicion. "Have you been here before?"

"Huh?" Ghent asked, feigning innocence. All right, so may be he should have messed up long ago, but he just had not had the heart to drag up a childhood just about anyone would want to forget, and now Stae would probably flip if he knew. "Naw, but look at this place, it's about to collapse!"

Stae pouted slightly, once more on the defensive. "Well, I hate to brake it to you that all the houses are the same here, if you didn't notice."

Ghent rolled his eyes and grabbed his stuff and his computer and started to walk towards the stairs. "There's an outlet up stairs. hopeful, that one will work. Can you fold up the table, and bring it up?" He called over his shoulder as he made his way up the stairs. He smirked as he heard the other man mumble some choice phrases about his mother. The more he Ghent thought about it, maybe Stae had changed over the years. He seemed to be more relaxed. Ghent chuckled at the thought, but it was true. Stae had not been normal as a child, it was the first thing Ghent had noticed about the other boy.

Uncle had been the one who had brought him to this house. Ghent had been about ten at the time, a skinny little waif with a mop of dirty-blond hair. He had been small as a child, until about sixteen, when he had shot up till he towered above just about every one. That had not helped him when he was small however, and he had had to learn quick how to fight and how to run like the wind.

Uncle had said they were going on business, and that he could come as long as he stayed out of the way. Ghent had not been a stranger to the type of business his Uncle had done, the same thing Ghent now did for a living. The house had been dark, and humid when they had entered. The electricity had been out again, so the only light can come from the make- shift fire place that had been arranged by a large table. About six or so men, including Kenji, Stae's father, had been gathered around the table. They had been sharing a bottle, and laughing loud enough that Ghent had heard them way before they had even reached the house. Ghent had curled his nose in distaste. Uncle had rarely drunk. He had that night, but Ghent had supposed that it had been a special case. This was business, after all.

Ghent had stayed out of the way, as instructed, plastering himself against the wall so that he could watch everything in the room. Uncle had been teaching him all sorts of different things by that time, the type of things he would need to know later on, like how to watch everything in the room, or how to do sleight of hand tricks, or how to blend into the background. He had been trying to practice that night, see how many things he could remember. Nothing had stood out in particular other than how terrible the place had looked. It had resembled the street out side, with garbage piled up along the sides, and various things dried on the floor. Who could live in such filth? Granted, almost all of Delian was decrepit and impoverished, but this was absurd! Uncle had never let his apartment get this bad!

Something had caught his eye, and he had turned slightly to look at the shadowy stairway. There had been someone there. He had watched the shadow move again. Who ever they were, they were small, a child then. Maybe about his size, maybe larger. Ghent had glanced at his uncle and surprising had found the man looking at him. Uncle had leaned over to one of the men beside him, who Ghent later learned was Kenji. Kenji had waved one hand dissmissively, not really listening. Uncle had smiled, then had nodded at Ghent.

Ghent had smiled back before carefully, and with all the stealth he had picked up over the past years, moving towards the stair way. He had approached it slowly, not wanting to scare whoever it was. He had sat slowly on the first step, not close enough to touch the other child, but enough so that he could see his face. The other boy had been older than Ghent, but just as skinny. His face had been twisted up in obvious fear, his straight black hair pulled in front of his eyes. Ghent had never been so open with his feelings as this boy had been. He had learned early on that the best way to fend off brother, and any other assailants, was to look and act brave. It had not always worked, but it had always been worth trying.

The boy had glanced at the table, looking for all the world like a frightened bird, before grabbing on to Ghent's sleeve and dragging him up the stairs. Ghent had not expected it, but he had taken it in stride, despite how he had to struggle to keep up with the older boy. When they reached the top of the stair, Ghent had to readjust his eyes to the suddenly brighter light. The one window in the room had let in enough moonlight to illuminate the hole room adequately.

It had been in that moon light that the boy had turned to face him, holding out his hand. "I'm Stae."

Ghent shook his hand politely. "My name is Ghent."