centerbAnd Those Darts Man . . . They're Sure Great!/b/center
Author's Notes: Despite the title this story is actually very serious...with little bits of humor here and there. I'll try to think of a better title, ok?
Omi walked around the flower shop tending to his work. He moved growing flowers to larger pots ans made sure all of the plants in the shop were properly watered. The delicate afternoon light drifted into the room as he made sure the more delicate flowers - housed in their miniature greenhouse - were at the appropriate temperature. Omi was a bit busier today than normal because he had offered to take on Youji's part of the work. He didn't ask Youji why he couldn't stay and help, but he knew it had something to do with their newest mission. It involved an entire dance team. Sixteen women were found dead after a major performance. Many of them cleanly killed with no personal belongings missing. Youji had been the first to accept. Omi could remember the pain he had on his sad looking face. Anyone who messed with women had to answer to Youji, Omi mused.
All of the work in the shop was done three hours before closing time and Omi started cleaning the store from top to bottom. The only time he wasn't found cleaning was when he was helping a customer or an adoring fan. Everyone came into the shop with a smile after they saw Omi. His large eyes sparkling at them beneath locks of brown hair. He would wave to them and smile as they described what they desired and he would point them in the right direction. But, just as soon as they came they would leave with their arrangement. And, quietly, Omi was left alone again to clean. He swept the entire store twice, he cleaned the old pots, and he washed the windows. After all of that was done he dusted the selves and rearranged the flower arrangements that sat upon them. He even took the time to clean out the flower cooler in the back.
By the time he finished cleaning the store was spotless and he still had an hour before he could close. Exhausted, and with nothing left to do but wait for a customer, he sat down behind the register. He had expected Youji to be back by this time, but he figured he had probably ran into some girl and was sharing a drink with her. Omi sighed at the thought. Aya had left the house after him and Ken walked in on him crying in Youji's arms. That was two days ago. The Weiss crew was more angry than worried . . . though, not that mad. They couldn't blame Aya for his pain, but they really needed him for this mission. Omi recalled Manx's nonchalant statement about how they were not to worry over Aya and focus on the mission. Ken didn't seem to have a problem with that because he was already target oriented. Youji felt bad about Aya, but knew he could take care of himself.
"Ken-kun . . .," Omi said quietly.
Startled by his own voice he looked to see if anyone were around but, of course, the shop was empty. He had been unable to think of the mission without thinking about Ken. Youji had noticed that he seemed distracted but he thought it was due to the recent death of his father and his thought-to-be father. Omi told him it was nothing and felt guilty that Ken's presence in his head overruled the pain of his recent loss.
Yet, he couldn't stop the feeling within him. The comfort when Ken was around him and the sweet smiles he only gave to him when the others weren't around to see. They had been friends for a long time. In fact, they had begun to confide in each other things that they felt were too personal for Aya and Youji. Ken once commented how they could tell each other anything and Omi had just smiled. Ken didn't know that he felt this way. He feared he never would know.
He slowly laid his head upon the cool counter top. The entire day he had tried to forget the handsome boy in his brown leather jacket. Even took on more work in the shop to pass the time, but he was so busy forgetting that he didn't realize how hard he had pushed himself. So hard that, despite the extra work, he managed to finish early. The counter top felt pleasantly nice to his cheek and he quickly fell asleep.
"Omi-kun . . . wake up."
Omi shot straight up in his chair. His vision was blurry, and the room dark, so he rubbed his eyes. When he refocused them he found Ken standing in front of him, his eyes staring at him with deep concern. His hand lay gently on Omi's left shoulder.
"Hey, are you ok?"
Omi, a bit groggy, tried to make sense of Ken's words, but not fast enough for Ken.
"Is Youji keeping you up worrying about him again? I'll tell him to stop going out late at night if it's keeping you awake at night."
The large eyed boy smiled widely, now comprehending, and rubbed the side of his head that was resting on the counter only moments before.
"No Ken-kun," he continued smiling, "I just wore myself out cleaning today."
Ken carefully studied Omi's face and smiled.
"You work too hard Omi. Let someone else do the work sometimes," Ken said laughingly.
Omi sat smiling back at Ken. He felt his cheeks grow red as he watched Ken run his fingers through his dark, thick hair.
"Are you sure you're ok, Omi-kun?"
Omi looked at Ken, his tired cheeks relaxing into a somber face, and leaned onto the counter. He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing more than his quiet breath escaped. He tried once more to talk, but in vain. Instead, he closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. Omi knew that Ken didn't feel the same for him. Now he just wanted him to leave; to let him be alone. His entire life he had been alone . . . so why change?
"Omittchi . . . ?" Ken's voice trailed off into the distance. "Maybe now's not the time to talk to you. We can talk later, ok? I'll help you to your room."
Ken walked over to Omi and put his arms around his shoulders to help his up to his feet. Omi's face was very somber and almost lifeless. His face was so different that Ken worried about his health. That, perhaps, Weiss was catching up to the always-genki kid, mentally. Ken began to guide him to his bedroom, but Omi stopped in mid-step.
"Ken-kun, we need to talk now. I'm fine . . . I just need to talk."
Ken looked at Omi, a bit shocked at Omi's sudden seriousness, and motioned over to the bench in the ever darkening room.
Dusk had settled on the town causing the street lamps to flicker to life. The flower shop's lights had been shut off by Ken when he came in to talk to Omi and he had locked the door behind him. Ken had really become concerned about Omi because the shop should have been closed an hour before he got there. Now, he sat on the bench straining to see Omi's new face. The darkness fitting in with his mood.
"What's wrong, Omi-kun?"
Omi's face tightened and he felt his hands grow warm. His heart felt as if it were going to pound through his chest. As he sat there, in the dark, the silence began to overwhelm his ears.
"Yes?" Ken replied quietly, so as to not shatter the quiet with his voice.
"I-," he breathed deeply, "I can't do this!"
"You don't want to be in Weiss anymore, right? I know how you feel."
Omi sighed with disgust with himself. He knew he couldn't live like this. It would ruin him and maybe even Weiss. He couldn't help thinking about the way Ken stood by his side while he worked on the computer. How Ken looked at him when they were talking by themselves. It killed him inside. He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't want to live with this pain inside either. He lowered his head.
"I like you," Omi blurted out suddenly.
Ken seemed to stop breathing at Omi's harsh words. The silence began to engulf their bodies again in an intangible coldness. Omi looked up again to find him motionless. In fact, he was completely emotionless as well.
"I mean - well, we've known each other for so long that I . . ."
Ken continued to look at Omi. Then, to Omi's surprise Ken slowly began to smile.
"Why are you smiling," Omi asked feeling as if he were being mocked.
"Because, Omittchi, I came here tonight to tell you that I . . . well . . . you know."
Omi shook his head in bewilderment.
"I love you . . . your genkiness, your voice, you amazing computer abilities, even those cute little green darts you have."
Omi blushed. He turned to his left and sat cross legged on the bench, smiling. He slowly reached out a hand and rested it on Ken's. He felt his entire body relax as he sat with Ken. He hadn't realized he was tense around him. Nervous maybe, but not tense. Ken slightly tightened his hand around Omi's smaller hand and allowed his fears of rejection float away with the darkness. He gently lifted Omi's hand, kissed it and looked into his sparkling eyes.
"Come on, Omittchi, you've got to be tired. We can talk more tomorrow."
"One more thing, " Omi said hurriedly.
"What's that?"
Omi inhaled deeply and quickly leaned over and kissed Ken's warm lips. He closed his eyes, as he let tet the kiss stop slowly, hoping the feeling within him would stay there as long as they remained closed. Ken leaned over and gently hugged Omi. The smaller boy moved a bit so that he leaned back into Ken's arms, and they sat there for most of the night talking about everything and nothing.
Author's Notes: Despite the title this story is actually very serious...with little bits of humor here and there. I'll try to think of a better title, ok?
Omi walked around the flower shop tending to his work. He moved growing flowers to larger pots ans made sure all of the plants in the shop were properly watered. The delicate afternoon light drifted into the room as he made sure the more delicate flowers - housed in their miniature greenhouse - were at the appropriate temperature. Omi was a bit busier today than normal because he had offered to take on Youji's part of the work. He didn't ask Youji why he couldn't stay and help, but he knew it had something to do with their newest mission. It involved an entire dance team. Sixteen women were found dead after a major performance. Many of them cleanly killed with no personal belongings missing. Youji had been the first to accept. Omi could remember the pain he had on his sad looking face. Anyone who messed with women had to answer to Youji, Omi mused.
All of the work in the shop was done three hours before closing time and Omi started cleaning the store from top to bottom. The only time he wasn't found cleaning was when he was helping a customer or an adoring fan. Everyone came into the shop with a smile after they saw Omi. His large eyes sparkling at them beneath locks of brown hair. He would wave to them and smile as they described what they desired and he would point them in the right direction. But, just as soon as they came they would leave with their arrangement. And, quietly, Omi was left alone again to clean. He swept the entire store twice, he cleaned the old pots, and he washed the windows. After all of that was done he dusted the selves and rearranged the flower arrangements that sat upon them. He even took the time to clean out the flower cooler in the back.
By the time he finished cleaning the store was spotless and he still had an hour before he could close. Exhausted, and with nothing left to do but wait for a customer, he sat down behind the register. He had expected Youji to be back by this time, but he figured he had probably ran into some girl and was sharing a drink with her. Omi sighed at the thought. Aya had left the house after him and Ken walked in on him crying in Youji's arms. That was two days ago. The Weiss crew was more angry than worried . . . though, not that mad. They couldn't blame Aya for his pain, but they really needed him for this mission. Omi recalled Manx's nonchalant statement about how they were not to worry over Aya and focus on the mission. Ken didn't seem to have a problem with that because he was already target oriented. Youji felt bad about Aya, but knew he could take care of himself.
"Ken-kun . . .," Omi said quietly.
Startled by his own voice he looked to see if anyone were around but, of course, the shop was empty. He had been unable to think of the mission without thinking about Ken. Youji had noticed that he seemed distracted but he thought it was due to the recent death of his father and his thought-to-be father. Omi told him it was nothing and felt guilty that Ken's presence in his head overruled the pain of his recent loss.
Yet, he couldn't stop the feeling within him. The comfort when Ken was around him and the sweet smiles he only gave to him when the others weren't around to see. They had been friends for a long time. In fact, they had begun to confide in each other things that they felt were too personal for Aya and Youji. Ken once commented how they could tell each other anything and Omi had just smiled. Ken didn't know that he felt this way. He feared he never would know.
He slowly laid his head upon the cool counter top. The entire day he had tried to forget the handsome boy in his brown leather jacket. Even took on more work in the shop to pass the time, but he was so busy forgetting that he didn't realize how hard he had pushed himself. So hard that, despite the extra work, he managed to finish early. The counter top felt pleasantly nice to his cheek and he quickly fell asleep.
"Omi-kun . . . wake up."
Omi shot straight up in his chair. His vision was blurry, and the room dark, so he rubbed his eyes. When he refocused them he found Ken standing in front of him, his eyes staring at him with deep concern. His hand lay gently on Omi's left shoulder.
"Hey, are you ok?"
Omi, a bit groggy, tried to make sense of Ken's words, but not fast enough for Ken.
"Is Youji keeping you up worrying about him again? I'll tell him to stop going out late at night if it's keeping you awake at night."
The large eyed boy smiled widely, now comprehending, and rubbed the side of his head that was resting on the counter only moments before.
"No Ken-kun," he continued smiling, "I just wore myself out cleaning today."
Ken carefully studied Omi's face and smiled.
"You work too hard Omi. Let someone else do the work sometimes," Ken said laughingly.
Omi sat smiling back at Ken. He felt his cheeks grow red as he watched Ken run his fingers through his dark, thick hair.
"Are you sure you're ok, Omi-kun?"
Omi looked at Ken, his tired cheeks relaxing into a somber face, and leaned onto the counter. He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing more than his quiet breath escaped. He tried once more to talk, but in vain. Instead, he closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. Omi knew that Ken didn't feel the same for him. Now he just wanted him to leave; to let him be alone. His entire life he had been alone . . . so why change?
"Omittchi . . . ?" Ken's voice trailed off into the distance. "Maybe now's not the time to talk to you. We can talk later, ok? I'll help you to your room."
Ken walked over to Omi and put his arms around his shoulders to help his up to his feet. Omi's face was very somber and almost lifeless. His face was so different that Ken worried about his health. That, perhaps, Weiss was catching up to the always-genki kid, mentally. Ken began to guide him to his bedroom, but Omi stopped in mid-step.
"Ken-kun, we need to talk now. I'm fine . . . I just need to talk."
Ken looked at Omi, a bit shocked at Omi's sudden seriousness, and motioned over to the bench in the ever darkening room.
Dusk had settled on the town causing the street lamps to flicker to life. The flower shop's lights had been shut off by Ken when he came in to talk to Omi and he had locked the door behind him. Ken had really become concerned about Omi because the shop should have been closed an hour before he got there. Now, he sat on the bench straining to see Omi's new face. The darkness fitting in with his mood.
"What's wrong, Omi-kun?"
Omi's face tightened and he felt his hands grow warm. His heart felt as if it were going to pound through his chest. As he sat there, in the dark, the silence began to overwhelm his ears.
"Yes?" Ken replied quietly, so as to not shatter the quiet with his voice.
"I-," he breathed deeply, "I can't do this!"
"You don't want to be in Weiss anymore, right? I know how you feel."
Omi sighed with disgust with himself. He knew he couldn't live like this. It would ruin him and maybe even Weiss. He couldn't help thinking about the way Ken stood by his side while he worked on the computer. How Ken looked at him when they were talking by themselves. It killed him inside. He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't want to live with this pain inside either. He lowered his head.
"I like you," Omi blurted out suddenly.
Ken seemed to stop breathing at Omi's harsh words. The silence began to engulf their bodies again in an intangible coldness. Omi looked up again to find him motionless. In fact, he was completely emotionless as well.
"I mean - well, we've known each other for so long that I . . ."
Ken continued to look at Omi. Then, to Omi's surprise Ken slowly began to smile.
"Why are you smiling," Omi asked feeling as if he were being mocked.
"Because, Omittchi, I came here tonight to tell you that I . . . well . . . you know."
Omi shook his head in bewilderment.
"I love you . . . your genkiness, your voice, you amazing computer abilities, even those cute little green darts you have."
Omi blushed. He turned to his left and sat cross legged on the bench, smiling. He slowly reached out a hand and rested it on Ken's. He felt his entire body relax as he sat with Ken. He hadn't realized he was tense around him. Nervous maybe, but not tense. Ken slightly tightened his hand around Omi's smaller hand and allowed his fears of rejection float away with the darkness. He gently lifted Omi's hand, kissed it and looked into his sparkling eyes.
"Come on, Omittchi, you've got to be tired. We can talk more tomorrow."
"One more thing, " Omi said hurriedly.
"What's that?"
Omi inhaled deeply and quickly leaned over and kissed Ken's warm lips. He closed his eyes, as he let tet the kiss stop slowly, hoping the feeling within him would stay there as long as they remained closed. Ken leaned over and gently hugged Omi. The smaller boy moved a bit so that he leaned back into Ken's arms, and they sat there for most of the night talking about everything and nothing.