Face the night
by Solaris
Warning: Angst-galore, abuse and largely depressing
Disclaimer: We don't own any of the characters mentioned.
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It was one of those nights, when his control was low and there was nothing anyone can do about it. He had to admit, however, that he never showed it to anyone, never felt his control slide once in front of the other two.
Other two.
He had always been unable to keep anything from that one. The one brunet he turned to when the world got a little too crazy for his own liking. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling his fingers flexing. It was practically tingling with anticipation that he had to swallow the bile down his throat even as he stomach churned.
It was sick...
He hated the perverse enjoyment that this always seemed to bring to his body. Even as his heart fought...his feelings revolting against the need to hurt something. But in this case, it's the need to hurt someone.
The door to his room opened soundlessly, as it always does. Ken never bothered to knock, not when he knew what was going to happen. It was best to keep things quiet after all, so that the others wouldn't hear.
'The others.' The redhead thought with dread. 'How is it that they didn't notice what was going on? Surely they've seen the bruises on Ken's body and face....Why didn't they try and stop this?'
But he knew only too well why. Ken was covering for him, telling them that a karate class that he currently was taking was the reason for his bruises. All he received instead was a chastise from Omi and a smirk from Youji and the urge to 'kick some butts.' They didn't question it.
Why should they? No one would have thought that Fujimiya Aya, the cold and professional leader of Weiss would be reduced into this state. A state where the only comfort he could obtain was either in the arms of his teammate or when he's beating the other senseless.
The brunet stood before him, face calm and ready. And even as a voice in his face screamed for him to leave things be, Aya stood up and felt himself readied with that fighting stance.
He felt it as his fist connected with the other male's jaw, chest, and arms....every part of him. Ken made no movement to shield himself or even to fight back, he welcomed the blows with quiet resolution. He's been there before.
And after what seemed to be an eternity, the aggressor fell to his knees, breathing harsh. It was his victim who stood on his feet in front of him. A calm expression on his face, not once betraying the physical pain the wrecked his body. His soft green eyes were sad and yet still he smiled, making no movement to wipe away the blood that was trailing down from the corner of his mouth.
Quietly, Ken crouched down, in level with the redhead, taking bruised hands with his own and softly kissed the knuckles. Even though he was the one who needed the attention as he was the one who was used as a punching bag.
But Ken never complained nor did he ever say anything about it. He had offered himself as this sacrifice months ago, when he also first offered his arms as the redhead's safe haven.
And those very arms then wrapped themselves around Aya's quivering form. He jerked slightly as he felt Ken touch his skin, ashamed for his actions, but that coaxing touch slowly made him relax. Ken didn't hate him. Ken would never hate him.
"I love you." The brunet softly whispered into blood red locks, pressing a kiss on top of the older male's head. And they stayed there for hours, reveling in the sense of being so close to each other.
Ken walked slowly up the stairs leading to the rooftops, his steps soft and barely audible. To his sleeping teammates downstairs, the footsteps were nothing but a whispered sigh or a soft wind's howl. Not at all the footstep of one assassin.
He opened the door and stepped out into the night, smiling gently and nodding his head in a polite gesture. "I'm here again." He whispered softly, in the same tone that he uses whenever he says, "Tadaima." And it was, in a way, a gesture of homecoming to him.
Walking slowly towards the edge, he slowly sat down, not even wincing as bruised ribs screamed in agony. He let his feet dangle over the edge, even as he stared into the night sky.
'He's a kid, really.' He thought to himself gently, smiling softly as he thought of the older man. "He doesn't understand why the world has to be this way." He whispered to the night, almost apologetically.
Funny, isn't it? Ken should have been the one with the childish outlook, the one who didn't understand the way the world worked and Aya should have been the one who knew exactly how the world operates and knew the dirty secrets it held and isn't afraid of throwing it to anyone's way.
'They will find each other.' He thought solemnly. 'They are kindred souls, they will seek each other out...I've made enough of an impact in both the white and black. Sometimes Grey has to fade away.'
He got up slowly, knowing that it would be dawn only too soon. He let out a deep sigh, a small, wistful smile on his lips, as he stared at the still-dark sky.
"Beautiful." He whispered softly, before placing both feet near the edge and leaned his body weight slowly towards the edge and away, back and forth. Then, he looked down, at the cold darkness below.
And with the wistful smile still on his face, a name softly breathed in his mouth, he leaned forward and simply let go. There was the most beautiful expression on his face, as he closed his eyes and stretched out his arms, welcoming the cold concrete as he rushed down to meet it.
Inside the house, one assassin stirred in his sleep, murmuring the name of an angel who tried to fly without wings.
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Yet another angst-filled piece. Our first deathfic. Review and wait for the sequel.