Aya, why are you so cold?
And Ken? A nod of agreement…a fugitive look at him from concerned black eyes, under a mass of chocolate hair. What did they know? Aya was brilliant, Aya was burning, Aya was…dieing. But Youji…Aya's mind wandered to thoughts of the tall assassin…Youji had been odd today…like he knew something…The red head felt another surge of fire in his chest.
Damn Youji. Damn him and his pretty brown hair, his cat-like grace and his goddamn eyes…always laughing…
He had the urge to hit something, but found he was unable.
Why this though?
He could barely remember the fight. Images cast out o him, like stars…so far off…that he glimpsed when he looked through the shades of his window. They were closing in on the target…another businessman who made the mistake of crossing their boss…and then there was Crawford in front of him, hatred and humor in his expression. Aya had glimpsed red hair like his own as Shuldich moved on Youji, saw the figure of Farferello, further off, paler than he was, fighting with ken where the assassin had been taking a position. Good thing Omi wasn't here. Aya didn't want the kid hurt after their last mission…how long ago was that? Not very, so it seemed. Nagi had tossed around the little blonde pretty badly. Then again, he didn't see Nagi anywhere, perhaps Omi was in trouble. He watched Youji as he cried out in pain, watched Shuldich as he struck like a snake at the cat-like assassin. He hurt for Youji, hated the other red head, as he noted the look of satisfaction on his face. But by then he had his own pain to worry about. Brad had caught him by the neck of his shirt, hoisting him off the ground like a little doll, no weight at all. He had pressed his fingers into Aya's neck, leaving four bruises in the delicate skin, he had whispered:
"Don't try and interfere with our 'projects' again, scum. You almost cost us something there"
Aya had sneered, but resisted spitting in the other man's face, the sneer had earned him a quick-silver stab to the stomach, he wasn't sure if spitting would earn him a quick death or not. He regretted all of it. Regretted, even, ever joining WieB Kreuz. Regretted letting his parents ever die, letting his precious sister get hit by a car…all of it was his fault it seemed, including Youji…and his pain…He hated the way the brunettes angel face had been twisted, wanted to kill for it, wanted to kill for all of them, wanted to taste the blood on his blade. But Youji…
Why would you take Youji?
He remembered a night…ages, eternities ago. The brunette had still been with them. He was still laughing. None of this hurting. It had been the closest thing to content Aya had felt in a very long time…lazy summer days, nights full of colorful outdoor parties or even occasionally woman, which was a rarity for the red head. That night there had been no woman, no parties, no colors and noise and excitement. No mission to work on. Just the four of them together in the living room. Talking. Happened once. Would never happen again. As long as Youji was gone. Aya remembered how the other two had gone to bed, Omi first, then Ken, trooping up the stairs to collapse in their respective rooms. It had only been the two of them, then. Silence…and then small, light, knowing laughter from the assassin beside him.
"Have you ever wondered…?"
Youji had never finished the sentence. He had laughed again. Aya's head was tilted back, resting on the back of the couch. He had been well aware of the way his hair fell down behind it, how his hand had rested casually across his body, fingers shaped elegantly, in a way that Aya knew Youji would know he was listening to him. There had been fire then, too, hadn't there? His cheeks flushed red at the memory. Youji had traced a line down his throat with his finger, watching as his teammate almost flinched at the touch. Aya guessed he would have laughed again, but it wasn't necessary. Aya knew he was being laughed at. Youji's hand had found Aya's, lifting it from it's spot on his leg.
"Aya…"
The redhead remembered looking at him. A thought in his eyes…
"Have you ever tried…?"
Youji had looked down, playing with the ring on his friend's middle finger.
"Have you ever tried to let this all go? To let your sister go? Your parents? Have you ever tried to just…forget it all? Move on with your life?"
"No."
"Why not?"
The brunette had seemed frustrated.
"You wouldn't have to kill for money anymore. You could leave us. Leave WeiB. Not worry about death…or…Swartz."
Aya looked at him.
"I would never leave you. And besides…"
He was getting irritated.
"You should speak for yourself. A little forgetting on your behalf might do you good."
He had frowned.
Youji looked a little desperate.
"Aya…"
"I'm going to bed, Youji-San"
And that had been that. Now he regretted every word of it.
Where are you, Youji?
He thought into the darkness, into the moonlight.
He heard laughter. He would kill Shuldich if he was hurting Youji…strangle him with his own insides…
Only if you can catch me, little baka Aya!
More laughter.
Kill him.
But then the fire began again, and Aya escaped again to a world of his own pain.
When Aya woke again, it was day. Someone had thoughtfully pulled
the blinds down over his window, so as to keep the sun from blazing in
his face. It took him a minute to realize that his thought patterns
were once again intact.
He tuned his head, surveying the room.
His Katana leaned in its usual place, but other than that, it looked as
if someone else was living in his room. He looked at himself.
He was covered again, despite his rampage last night. He felt a kind
of ache from his stomach, but nothing like it had been. He shuddered.
Someone had obviously been caring for him; it was bandaged tightly, and
cleaned. And someone who knew him…He saw his black shirt folded neatly
on the small table beside him, stiff with his blood. Next to
it, but not touching was a white linen one, freshly washed and pressed.
Traditional for him, it was lace-up with leather for about three inches
down his chest. He smiled. Not a true smile, but a start.
Ken and Omi no doubt, worried about their precious leader's safety.
Almost…another smile. He moved experimentally, prodding the bandaged
wound gently with one finger. After contemplation, he got up, bending
slightly at the hip to allow for his pain. He found waster in a pitcher
with a cup and greedily drank it down. He wondered, vaguely, where
the other…two…were. Probably in the flower shop. He checked
the little alarm clock beside the bead. They would be home soon if
that was where they were. He had questions. A wild hope rose
inside him that They had found Youji, but he didn't think for a moment,
seriously, that his partner would come smiling home from the flower shop,
the other two trailing slightly behind. A little emperor he was for
all of them. Aya sighed. If Youji was alive, Aya would find
him. Somehow, though, the redhead doubted that too.