Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss… and I wish I did.

Chapter 1

Aya sauntered into his room and slammed the door with a loud bang. His thoughts were racing as he threw off his clothes trying to cool off from his inner heat and warm up from the cool fall breeze. Kuso, Why did I go out? He asked himself in a blurry of thoughts as he climbed into bed. His body lazily pulled out soft black leather bound pages from under his bed. He had been keeping a journal for about six months so it was still relatively new. Within its pages, splattered with black ink were his inner demons. Thoughts that no one would see or hear ran around his castle of ice as Youji had deemed it. Damn that baka hentai, he's right, I am a castle of ice. Aya cursed under his breathe trying to stay concession, pulling a pen from the bedside drawer.

"Ok," he muttered with a slight slur, "I admit it, the room may be spinning at a hundred miles per hour but I admit. This…This isn't going to work. Damn it," Then pressing the pen against the paper he began to write, scribbling across a blank page as quickly as possible. Only for sleep to eventually take over his body and his frantic hand became limp.

The morning rays and chirping birds stirred Aya from his sleep. Long red locks hid his violet eyes as they attempted to focus on his surroundings. He was face down on his bed, his cheek resting on top of his open journal. A stain of black ink soaked into his covers and he cursed at the pounding headache he had and dirty sheets. Then there was a loud banging from his window…no wait that was his door. Crap, he thought and tried to pull himself together as Omi walked in.

"Aya-kun are you ok?" the young man asked staring at his appearance. Aya inwardly cursed again, Bombay was the last person he wanted to see him like this. He was still dressed in his violet blouse with super tight leather jeans. On his feet was his pair of black boots and he was no longer wearing his knuckle cut gloves. Yes, Fuijimya Aya had in fact gone to a bar last night in hopes of forgetting his affections, useless adorations and all those other confusing feelings he had developed for the past years. The source of the problem was staring at him with the largest widest most beautiful light blue ever conceived. A pair of pink lips in a slight concerned worry accompanied with a voice that only an angel could possess.

"Ah," he replied in a monotone trying to remember how to operate his mouth. The buzz of the alcohol had let his entire mouth done dry. The entire drunk bar experience had been a disaster. He knew he should have just stayed home and read a book. Then he would have been locked away in his room and be able to be coherent with Omi actually talking to him. Not like the boy could ever understand. No, no one, not even Aya could understand how his mind was able to shut down and just absorb every single word that passed through the pink pair of lips.

"You don't look it," Omi replied with a slight pout, "You're not getting sick are you? Where were you last night?" The boy took a step closer. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"I went out," Aya replied quietly, "I'm fine Omi, really, I just needed some time to think."

"Oh…ok…well, I can see that," Omi stated sourly, "Rest up for a bit and drink some tea. That always makes you feel better ne?" Cautiously, the shorter blonde presented Aya with a mirror. A single bright red eyebrow lifted as violet eyes stared at his own reflection. His entire left cheek was covered and smeared in black ink, with the exceptions of two characters plainly printed in the center. I love. "I suggest you wash your face before heading down into the shop." The boy started to head out his blonde locks covering his bright blue eyes. "I'll keep Youji busy, besides its time he started paying you back for all the times he was late." A slender hand rested on the door knob, and was about to close Aya off into his own world.

"Omi," Aya found his mouth to be surprisingly dry.

"Hai?" the boy asked looking up from his blonde bangs.

"I…I… I," Aya stuttered then gave a heavy sigh, "I'll be down in a minute."

"Hai Hai, feel better neh?" Omi gave a smile and closed the door. Aya stared at the door and slumped back against the mattress staring at his white ceiling. With a sigh and a shake of his head he curled onto his side and pulled a pillow over his head in attempts to block out his thoughts as they ran a muck.

Omi sighed as he took his lunch break in the silent apartment house. Aya was attending the shop, Ken was teaching his students, and Youji was out flirting, again. He ate his sandwich with a glass of orange juice and looked around the kitchen. His mind raced back to the pervious night.

He had been awake by the sound of what he originally had thought was Youji coming in. However, he found had been mistaken and nearly had a heart attack as Aya appeared out of no where touring over him. "Aya-kun?" he asked, "What's wrong?"

Aya just stared at him in a silence than gave him a pant on the head. The youngest member growled at that swatting the hand away. He did not like the fact that everyone thought him as a kid. Omi was stunned when his arms were tucked against his body and another pair of lanky arms pulled him against the taller body. His blue eyes widened as he looked up into dark pools of violet. A gentle rough hand touched his cheek only to suddenly pull away as the taller man collapse on him. His heart was thundering in his chest almost blocking out the mumbling words from the red head.

"Gomen Gomen," Aya whispered as he knelt down in front of the boy. He was on his knees, so only Omi was slightly taller. "I…I…just….I… need to…"

"Aya? Are you ok?" Omi asked staring at the flustered face in front of him. Aya's dark violet eyes bore into his making him want to run but at the same time he knew he had to stay. Otherwise, Aya would fall apart, and in the depths of his heart he couldn't do that. No, not to anyone, Omi didn't have a bone in him that was that cruel, especially when it came to Aya.

"I'm fine," Aya stated pulling himself up after a moment of awkward silence. The taller man's legs seemed to wobble and have a mind of their own as they carried him away and the bedroom door slammed shut. Omi just stared at the door in shock and confusion as his heart dropped from the thirteenth story in free fall.

Omi shook his head as he mysteriously realized he stood in front of the door. Behind this door, there may be answers. There may be clues, a direction, just something to tell him what was going on in the tall red head's life that was causing these drastic changes. With a gulp he stepped forward and took hold of the door breaking the one rule he had swore he never would break since the last member had joined Weiss.

Rule 1: Investigating on account of personal business.

The young blonde blue eye boy of Wiess stood on the borderline of the apartment and Aya's room. Taking a final look at the neutral territory he entered the red head's lair. He sighed and instantly became searching closing the door behind him, in case someone would walk by. So far all he could find was the katana on its stand resting on top of his dresser. The bed was large with a light brown covering and a white sheet neatly folded over. Everything within the room obviously had its own place and that would make Omi's life a little bit easier and difficult at the same time. He glanced around. However, there wasn't anything he was looking for. After a few tedious moments of searching, a sigh escaped his lip as he began to realize Aya would never have anything like a journal. Ken had been easy to persuade into writing one for professional reasons. But, he argued with himself, Aya loves books, he has to have a least something to jot down his thoughts. So where can I start? Then he found the book shelf but they were all novels, in various languages from English, to French, German, and many more in Japanese. Omi skimmed the titles. They were mostly classics and a few deeper more modern novels that made his head spin when he was trying to read them.

He heard a voice coming up the stairs, and panic struck. Crouching down beside the bed he crawled under it completely, watching the light from the hallway flash by. The footsteps did not stop at the door and a door was slammed near by. Omi sighed with relief. It was only Ken, being loud when carrying all his equipment down the hall. Hastily, he scolded himself for coming into Aya's room in the first place. He knew that Aya loved his privacy. He should just leave, because if he was caught, he would be gutted and hung out side for the fan girls. He tried crawling out from under the bed and after a few ducks from the wired springs he rolled out beside the bed. Sitting up he looked up at the white ceiling and sighed, "I guess I should just try asking Aya indirectly." He muttered only to place his hand down upon something that was slightly warm and soft. Blue eyes looked down to find a black bound simple journal, and a soft smile appeared on his face. Then a click of the doorknob, Omi jumped out of his thoughts and suddenly vanished from sight and into his own room.

Aya sighed as he watched the school girls squeal in happiness. Their high pitch voices increased his pounding headache ten fold. Aya was beginning how the hell Youji was able to take it and flirt coherently as well. Perhaps the bastard was drunk after all, since when he did the orders they certainly always looked like it. Another sigh escaped his lips as he glanced at the clock, it would be still two more hours before he could close the shop. For once he wished he wasn't such a regimented prick and would let Youji and him off early. No, he corrected, just himself off because Youji is no where to be seen. Aya smirked at the thought of docking some of Youji's pay because the blonde had been absent. Of course, he wasn't that much of a dick to actually do that, especially, when he lived in the same building. No, he would just sit and wait for 6 o'clock to roll around and the go to bed. He needed sleep more than anything. Perhaps, if he wrote more it would settle his heart rate so he could actually concentrate on his book instead of thinking about a certain adorable younger blonde. No, don't even go there. We are not thinking about it. It doesn't exist, his inner thoughts demanded. That's right, he reminded himself, it doesn't exis,t expect on those white pages filled with useless scribble.

Omi sat down at his desk and clicked on the lamp. Then his hands placed the bound black leather journal and opened the cover. The first page was written in delicate handwriting, a date and name: Fuijimya Ran. Then with a slender hand Omi turned the page to the first entry of the journal.

I am aware that this can be held against me in court of law. But at the moment, personally, I don't care. I don't care that Weiss could go to jail or be hung for whatever I'm about to write here. I could always just burn this up or hide it so well that no one would even realize that an assassin keeps a journal. However, it's not really a journal, its just pages filled with useless thoughts that run through my head day in and day out. It's been happening a lot lately. To be honest, I did religiously keep a journal when I was in high school but since then it faded with the accident. I was so busy worrying about Aya and Crashers that I didn't even have time to sleep let alone write.

But now, everything is getting better. Or so I hope. We finally are back at the flower shop, the four of us and it's like it was before only difference is that Aya comes by and says hi. Those days I don't care if I'm smiling like an idiot, everyone else on the planet can go to hell, I'm so relieved she running around going to college and looking for boyfriends. Even if the boyfriends never pass my tests (smirk). As if they ever will..

I'm also very relieved at the fact Weiss has remained in tact, if not for anything but my own sanity. It's nice to have people who can relate, even if a few of them are going crazy (aka Ken and Youji). Omi and I are the only ones who seem sort of sane, if you define assassins to be sane. I have to go to the shop, who knows if this will actually work or not.

Omi sat up for a moment holding his chin in thought. This was actually a surprised, but in a way he couldn't expect anything else from Aya. The man was regimented and so constricted in his actions that this journal allowed him to have fun within his own mind. No, the person in this journal wasn't Aya, it was Ran, he argued. He shrugged since he found keeping a journal for himself had never worked. It had always turned out to be a mission report. But Aya's journal was like reading a story of a man who was almost completely different but at the same time it was Aya. I really shouldn't be doing this, Omi thought as his hands took control and flipped through the pages.

The white pages with black scribble turned til about half way through the book. Then his eyes caught sight of his name once more and he slammed the notebook shut scolding himself profusely. This is wrong; I should not be doing this. I knew I shouldn't be doing this. He stood up about to walk away from the journal and return it to its rightful owner. But, he inner thoughts stated, don't you want to know what he really thinks.

This might be your only chance.

No, his conscious screamed.

Come on, its not going to hurt him if he never finds out.

Omi paused looking back at the black leather bound journal. The spot light of the desk lamp shinning on. Before Omi realized it he was sitting down at his desk and reading the journal like there was no tomorrow, every single page.

WR: Yes, I will have another chapter…probably soon cause I keep needing to get this out of my system. I don't know how long its going to be. And there might be constant editing being done. I just hope you enjoy it . Let me know what you think of it. We'll see what I update since finals are just around the corner.