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This was kind of a random one shot I shat out from my keybaord into Microsoft works. It's not very good, but oh well. BEWARE cussing, sexual situations, and male-male relations. You no likey, you no ready.
Italicized paragraphs are memories and flashbacks. I don't own Radiohead's Creep, Dredg's Planting seeds, nor do I own Weiss Kreuz. Poopy.
Enjoy
Craving Grace
She's to blame I'll erase routine,
With a spark to ignite the flame,
And in this struggle of guilt to tame,
It's freedom I'll obtain
Ran...
I love you so much, Ran...
I...
Please, don't go, I... I need you...
Please...
The blades of his counterpart where shiny and showed him the one thing he hated the most; himself. He had been staring at the worn leather for hours.
Contemplating.
For the last five years he had known nothing of happiness. Deep, internal, fulfilling happiness. Even with this void within him, he had managed to over come his apprehension to fall into the arms of his beautiful crimson teammate.
At first, surprising enough to him, he had made the first move. The night Aya was taken from her hospital bed, he had seen Ran cry, stubbornly beating cement walls that refused to give in the training room. He was there in an instant, heart swelling and eyes watering as well.
He had no idea how long he had loved Ran, but that night when he saw the man he worshipped fall apart, something in Ken grew. He weaved tan fingers through fiery locks and whispered endless words of comfort and longing, clutching to his only stability so hard he thought he would crush the taller man.
Ran said nothing, taking what Ken was giving him without regard. Ran had smelled so good, so warm to him. A warmth he wanted so badly that he clutched to it, not realizing the simple strings he was attaching to his comfort and to his heart.
Ran looked up at him, a storm raging behind his glowing violet irises. Ken had placed a soft kiss on his forehead, only to find pale fingers leading him down to soft, pliant lips. The training room was desolate and bare, the grey walls casting an pale shadow on the red head.
Ran was silent the entire time. Cold fingers worked at his shirt and pant buttons, pushing him down on the soft blue pad. Something in Ken's muddled brain told him it wasn't right; that he was taking advantage of his grieving teammate, but the insistent hands on his buttons told his body otherwise.
Ran took him that night, hard and unforgiving. Never once did Ran look at him, blank eyes burning holes in the padding beside his head. Ken didn't care though; Ran had become his world and his only anchor to reality. Did Ran regret it? Did he feel used, empty?
Ken endured, even as Ran's hands started gripping so hard that dark bruises were left on bronzed skin. He felt the wet sticking of his thighs as his eyes glued shut. Was he bleeding? He smirked at the irony, he was a fucking virgin princess.
Then it ended. Ran came, got up, fastened his pants, and left, leaving Ken on the floor. He felt like an asshole. Did Ran even like Ken that way? Hell, was Ran even gay?
She tied me up,
Removed my crown,
Battered all good taste,
Sorry for everything I've done,
I can't deny your stake
The following night, he laid in bed counting the stains on his ceiling and clutching his chest. He felt so heavy, like his chest was on fire. The door creaked and a shadow passed over him. In the staggering blackness, all he could see was the lean form of his teammate as Ran leaned over him. Ran's fingers felt like ice as he yanked his pj pants down and off. Ken ceased to think for the next four hours.
For weeks this went on; Ran coming to his room every night, silent as ever when he took what he wanted from Ken and left. Ken never said a word, to afraid to lose what little he had. He took what he got, no questions asked. He had instigated the whole thing anyway, so the only person he could blame was himself. It was so strange how Ran could radiate heat, but his fingers always were so unimaginably cold.
The night that Weiss had retrieved Aya from Essest was the night that His and Ran's so-called relationship came to an end.
Ran did not come that night, and he stayed up, waiting. Ran didn't look at him the next day, didn't speak to him, didn't even stand within three yards of him. That night, Ken waited once again and nothing. For the first time since this had started, Ken had looked in a mirror and begun to realize just what he had done.
He was weak. Wrong to depend on Ran to save him and stupid for thinking Ran could ever love someone like him. He felt cheap, gullible, and hopelessly naive. Ken hated himself for it and hated Ran even more for letting him do so.
A week passed and Ran hadn't had the courtesy to say one word to him. Not one. So, a few beers and some mustered courage found Ken gently knocking on Ran's door, painfully hoping. The door flew open, and a very pissed assassin was staring at him.
Look at what I have found
A seashell in a sea of shells
I'm good at planting my own seeds
To sprout endless hell
"Ken..." His tone was clipped as he glared at his brunette teammate, eyebrow raised.
"C-Can I come in? It'll only be for a sec-" Ran cut him off, slamming the door. As Ken slid to the ground, fingers gripping the white paint of the door, he sighed. For the first time since Yuriko, he felt regret. It took Ken a awhile to finally realize where he was wallowing and slowly dragged himself to his room.
The next day they had gotten a mission. One of incredibly difficulty and skill, as Manx had put it. Ken felt eager, ready to work off some steam.
The car ride was incredibly awkward as Yohji drove and Omi sat in the passenger seat, leaving him and Ran.
Ran had scooted as far away from Ken as humanly possible, squishing his thighs uncomfortably up to the door. Ken had begun to click his bug-nuks in and out, sinking into a trance to the beat if the clink.
Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink
Ran eyed him warily.
Clink. Clink. Clink...
"Ken, could you stop that? We all know you like shiny things, but your pissing me off." Yohji made an impatient popping noise with his tongue as he glared at Ken through the rearview mirror.
Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.
"KEN."
"WHAT?!" Yohji winced, startled as Ken's flushed, wild face eyeballed him.
"Stop; if we get into an accident and I die, I'm haunting you for the rest of eternity." Ken chuckled, locking in his bugnuks as he blew a kiss to his effeminate blonde teammate.
"All I'd have to do is leave you somewhere with a large shiny object, you'd never be able to tear yourself away from your reflection, and I'd be home free. Not to mention, they have people that could come suck you up into these Vacuum thingies." Yohji snorted as Ken demonstrated.
"Vacuum thingies? Genius." Ken blew him a strawberry.
"It is! I saw it in an American movie." The conversation ended with that as they pulled off the side of the road to park. It was mission time.
The infiltrating had gone swimmingly, but the pilfering was not as smooth. What they didn't expect was thirty or so guards barreling around the corner and into the doorway of the master computer room, where Omi was copying files and everyone else was shoving papers into bags.
Yohji acted first, wires flashing. Omi next, landing three darts on target as Ken jumped into the melee, Aya trailing.
Time moved in slow motion for Ken though. He felt every spring of his weapon, the texture of ripping bones and sinew. His heart beat skyrocketed and he smiled. He felt so alive. He hadn't felt so alive since... that first night. There was never time for regret, not for killing, life, or him.
It was incredible, the realization of the tangible feeling taking over him. He felt real and physical. Like he could feel the outside world, a pleasure long since lost to him because of the nerve searing scars on his arms and back. The blood was warm. And red.
How familiar.
Forgiveness came we embrace the key,
Found water to douse the flame,
We ended our difference of soul and brain,
Forever we have changed,
He turned, eyeing Ran shoving his long blade through the belling of random guard #16 and time stopped.
A gun, cocked and ready, was point steadily at Ran's head from behind; So Ken leapt with every ounce of strength in his body, colliding with his teammate as the gun fired, acrid smell of gun powder stinging his nostrils.
"Ken? KEN?!" It didn't hurt, surprisingly, as he stared down at the new whole in his collar bone. It was just a flesh wound anyway. Ran was safe, alive.
Ken had hoped that thought was enough to keep him fighting and steady. He realized as his vision began to fade in and out, that it wasn't. The guard fired again, hitting his left arm and he fell.
Blargh, scene change.
Ken hated the smell of hospital. It brought back the memories of when he was admitted as a fire victim.
They had used metal string sponges to remove the clusters of dead skin scattered on his arms and back; A memory that still gave him nightmares regardless of the countless c.c.'s of morphine he had in his bloodstream at the time.
But once again, the blinding white and smell of dead protruded his sense like an unwelcome in-law you wanted to strangle at the dinner table over the thanksgiving turkey.
He groaned, rubbing stubbornly at his aching face.
What the hell had happened? He had gone on the mission and… oh, he was shot. Okay.
"Oh my god, get the doctor! He w-" Ken faded out again, preferring to drool in a happy sleep than to be badgered by the nurses.
When he woke back up, he saw to concerned faces and one very pale, very irritated one. Fantastic. Yohji's hand was on his forehead, pulling at he cheeks as he muttered on about something Ken couldn't quite comprehend.
"Mrffhirhgfrrr… Doctor grhjtgjht…" He head swam.
"Could you repeat that, Yohji?" His voice was so hoarse, throat dry and unused to sound.
"You've been out for a month Ken." Ken shot up, eyes wide and he started to flail a bit.
"A month? What the hell happened?! I was on-" Yohji quickly shoved him down, pinning his shoulders to the bed.
"Calm the hell down, Kenken… Goosefrabba; Say it with me as you inhale, Goosefrabba." Ken smiled wide at the corny joke. Yohji just ripped off a bad American movie, good for him.
"Seriously, what the hell happened?" Yohji sighed, looking tired.
"You got shot in the neck and arm. By the time we finished off the guards, you were in la la land from blood loss and we had to lug your ass to the car, where unfortunately your head was accidentally rammed into the side of my car. I'm not naming names." Ken's left eye began to twitch.
"I went comatose because one of you rammed my head into a CAR?! WHAT THE FU-" Yohji quickly covered his mouth, hushing him as he hyperventilated. Shoving his blonde companion away, he rolled over and pouted.
I've just set out on a brand new race,
Can we keep the pace,
I can't believe what we've become,
I'll leave without a trace.
"Stupid fucking co-workers and there stupid fucking stupidity… Arghh…" Ken was huffing, and it annoyed him.
"Good news though, KenKen. You can come home today. You kinda slept through your recovery and the doctor says it fine. I think he's surprised that you actually woke up, eh…"
Everything in Ken's room was kept immaculate. He was amazed, everything spotless and dust free. Something Ken's room never got to experience, EVER. He almost drooled as the scent of laundry detergent and Pine sol lolled him into a state of bliss.
He sniffed everything. The sheets, the carpet, the clothes now nicely arranged in his drawer, formerly in a man-eating pile the crawled around his floor. Everything smelled so familiar… It smelled like Ran.
He suddenly dropped the pillow case he had been rubbing his cheek against. Why did his room smell like his older teammate? He felt the burning, swollen feeling bubble up in his chest and he started to hack.
Did Ran take care of his room while he was in the hospital? Ran actually cared enough to maintain his stuff? Why? Ken felt so… shocked? No, that's not the word… Muddled. That was a good word. Muddled. Utterly confused. The man hadn't said a word to him and now he was fending off Ken's sock creatures with cleaning products.
Ken sighed as he fell on to his bed. It was so funny, he had slept a month straight, but suddenly he was exhausted.
Look at what I have found
A seashell in a sea of shells
I'm good at planting my own seeds
The sunlight peeked in through Ken's closed blinds, warming his face as he woke up. He felt so comfy and warm. Goosebumps spread over is skin as he realized the center of warm was on his back and there where arms wrapped around his waist. Gently rolling over, he was met with the ragged face of Ran, sleeping soundlessly.
"Ran?" Nothing.
"RAN." He went flying, bonking his head on the wall.
"Huh… wha? KEN, Christ, are you okay?!" Ken glared.
"What are you doing in here?" The wary look Ken shot him struck him to the core.
"I… hnnn." Ken growled.
"Get out… NOW." Ran sighed, pulling off the covers.
''Look, Ken; We need to talk." Ran's eyes glowed.
"I said get out… GET OUT." Grabbing Ran's hand, he dragged a weary Ran to the door, slamming it in his team mates face.
Ken fell to the floor and curled up, trying desperately to crawl inside himself.
What the hell was that? Ran hated him. He made it perfectly clear that night, and Ken had accepted it. Why now? Erg.
He didn't have time for regret in his life. He didn't want this ping-pong bullshit; His life was to easily expendably to throw it away on his teammate's psychotic mood swings.
The alarm clicked on and the Radio began to blare, the familiar American song made his heart shudder more as he hummed along.
"Whatever makes you happy, Whatever you want…You're so very special
I wish I was special…" Ken choked and began to sob.
"But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo… What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here….
I don't belong here…" He wished so badly that he had something special and genuine about him. He wasn't anything like people pictured him. He wasn't innocent, or pure. He was tainted, and gullible.
He felt so cheap, stupid. He wished he was special…
Ken retreated to his room most of the week, with the door bolted shut. He would work, eat, and lock himself in his room. He didn't want to see Ran… He didn't want to look at him or speak to him; It made it harder to hate him in the end. He wanted a final dissolution.
And Ken did grow to hate him. After that week, Ran had cornered him in the supply room in the back of the Koneko and pinned him up against the wall.
"Look, Ken, I'm sorry for my behavior but you can run from me forever." Ran's intense sunset eyes bore into his and his world began to shrink.
"I… Ran, l-let go of me!" He struggle to get his numb arms loose, but no avail.
"No! I need to talk to you, damnit! Calm down!" He didn't want to talk, he wanted to get away. He couldn't be this close to Ran, it would ruin him. Please, he wanted Ran to just go away.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Ran covered the shorter man's mouth and Ken began to cry. Ran sighed as he let go and Ken crumbled to floor, pathetic.
"Ken…" The brunette wouldn't look at him.
"Hnn… Come with me.." He grabbed Ken's hand, hauling him up and dragged him out, passed all the screaming girls and they walked. Ken was surprised as they continued; Ran was leading him to the park. It was his favorite spot in the entire world.
Ran lead him to a bench that overlooked his grassy nook; it was breath taking.
"Ken… I'm sorry, really I am. I used you, left you alone and didn't explain why… I just… I couldn't handle it. I hadn't been close to anyone in years and then you just stumbled in, utterly clueless… I couldn't take it. So I made the choice to cut off my temptation. I felt so weak, so I cut it away… Do you understand?" Ken wasn't looking at him, but instead at the vast expanse of green in the sunlight. Why were they so similar? It was unfair.
"I make you weak?" Ken's voice shook.
"Ah, not in the sense your thinking, You distracted me from my mission and I… didn't want that." Ran winced, that hadn't sounded a thing like he meant it to.
"Do you not want me, Ran…" Ken was still looking ahead, eerily unmoving, voice unwavering. This is what Ken wanted, to be finally pushed away for good. A nice clean break.
"No! I-I want you!" Ken swiveled around suddenly and stared at him with glowing amber orbs.
"What do you want?" Ran sighed.
"I want you, Ken. I want to be able to hold you, and be next to you. I want to know all about you, where you came from, who you are."
Look at what I have found
A seashell in a sea of shells
I'm good at planting my own seeds
And that was the beginning of the end for Ken. Ran had professed his… feelings and all had been well and dandy. Ken felt loved and he loved Ran in return with every ounce of his being. They were happy; For the first time in his life he felt safe and stable. Loved. He had no reason to question his position in life or regret.
Him and Ran were together for a year with a few kinks here and there, but they worked themselves out.
"Ken, what the hell is this?" Ken looked around, confused.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Ran gestured to the room they now shared, clearly displeased. Ken's random piles of dirty clothing stared back at him and Ken flushed.
"Ah, I'll clean it up, I promise…" Ran just exhaled slowly, before pecking him on the forehead.
Ran was surprisingly understanding about Ken's messy habits for someone so utterly compulsive and scarily OCD. Another reason why Ken had been able to let himself fall into the idea of him and Ran so easily. Ran loved him for who he was, not who he could be with tinkering.
"Ran, let's go out to dinner tonight, somewhere nice!" Ken was smiling brightly, practically begging for a chance to eat edible food for the first time in a week. Youhji had been on cooking duty. Ran just smirked slightly.
"Hnn… Eating Youhji's cooking makes my stomach want to shrivel up and die too. Let's go."
At first they did things together, spending 'quality' time together. It was the only thing that gave Ken enjoyment in his life. He actually managed to drag Ran to a movie that didn't have subtitles. He got to watch things explode with Ran sitting next to him, not complaining about the lack of plot or scientific grounding. That was a HUGE bonus.
But after their one year anniversary, things began to change; It chilled Ken to the core. Ran was withdrawing from him, regardless of how hard he tried to bridge his estranged lover's feelings. He couldn't… deal. Ken couldn't imagine life without Ran, he had finally let his walls down after so long and if Ran turned on him, he… he wouldn't be able to function. Ran couldn't be like Kase, not another Kase.
To sprout endless hell
Ran, wanna go to a movie? That new zombie movie came out and apparently it's amazing. Omi told me that there's a scene wh-" Ran interrupted him, slamming his book shut and glaring at the shorter brunette.
"Do I look like the zombie type?" The question was strained and cold.
"Well, I just thought we could go out and do something or… something." Ran's lip twitched up and he got up and walked out.
"What the heck is up his butt?" Ken flopped down on the bed and pouted.
Ran's sour mood continued, making Ken always feel on edge.
"How was your shift today?" Ken grabbed Ran's hand as the redhead read. Ran was camped out on the edge of the love seat they had dragged to their room and Ken had his head rested on Ran's thigh.
"Hnn…" Ran continued to read.
"Hnn? That's it? Where's the excitement, the danger; For an assassin your life sure is boring." Ken chuckled a bit and Ran's knuckled fastened themselves to the spine of his book, turning white.
"Well, I got to coach my team to-" Ken prattled mindlessly.
"Shut up." It was so soft, Ken barely heard it.
"Excuse me?" The shorter brunette felt his temper flare.
"I said, shut up, I'm reading." Ran was staring intently at his book.
"What the FUCK is your problem, Ran?!" Ran growled, shoving his face threatening close to Ken's and slamming his book shut.
"My problem is that you won't shut the hell up and go to sleep! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Ken just stared at him, mouth ajar as Ran skulked to over to the bed, threw back the covers, and made himself comfortable glaring at the wall.
"Fuck you to, Ran." Ken slammed the door, preferring the couch to his pissy lover.
Ken hadn't sleep well in weeks since that night. Ran had been ignoring him and he had no idea why. When he asked, Ran would just clamp up and walk away, leaving Ken confused and depressed. Their relationship was disintegrating and he couldn't do a damn thing.
Then, there was the night of Ran's birthday. Ken had gone out shopping to find the perfect gift, settling on a care kit for the taller man and a few trinkets that he thought Ran would enjoy like a new pair of earrings to match the one Ran had given back to his sister. He was going to give Ran one and keep the other. He was planning on surprising his lover by coming back from his trip earlier than planned, just to be there. Kritiker had sent him on a solo mission to Kyoto to dispose of a local mob boss, an easier than expected task.
He was quite proud of himself.
So, marching home, he clutched his gifts with a hope of what it would mean for him and Ran. Would Ran like them? Would it fix their less than perfect relationship, Ken showing he cared? He had no idea, but he could only wish. Besides, how could Ran not love the three random poetry books he was now carting.
He opened the front door and shuffled in, disposing of his shoes shrugging of his jacket. He set Ran's presents on the kitchen table.
THUMP
He jumped, startled. What was that? It sounded like it was coming from the hallway. Grabbing the bat from the hallway closet, he stalked silently down the hallway.
THUMP
Ken inhaled deeply, steady. It sounded like it was coming from their bedroom. He hoped to God Ran was okay, Omi was at a friend's house and Youhji was undoubtedly at a club.
THUMP
Closing his eyes, he heart the pounding in his chest as he grasped the door knob, twisted, and the door creaked open.
"Ken?! Shit! This isn't what it looks like, I swear to God, Ke-" His world went silent and the bat slid from his limp hands.
Youhji and Ran were fucking… On their bed no less.
"Ken?! Are you listening?! Let me explain-" Ken turned and left, eyes downcast as he stumbled down the stairs of the apartment and he began to run, no shoes or coat. He could hear Youhji screaming after him but he didn't stop.
He ran until like he felt like he was going to keel over and die, the searing in his lungs joining the pain in his heart. Ran was fucking Youhji… Youhji of all people. Looking around, he had the convenience of running out of steam by an over pass and he slid down to sit against the cold concrete of the bridge. The moon was full and the light made everything look grey and cloudy. It had to be at least ten, if not later.
Ken didn't go home that night. He slept under the over pass and stumbled back into the apartment the next day after trudging home, freezing and dirty. Youhji was waiting for him, hair uncombed and face bedraggled and worn.
"Ken… I'm sorr-" Ken stalked beside him, going up to his old room and locking himself inside.
He didn't talk to Ran for two days, confining himself once again to his room. When he did finally face the taller redhead, he finally was dealt the killing blow to his heart.
Ran was leaving him and Weiss, with Youhji. Ran was leaving him for Youhji. Ran explained to him how his feelings had disappeared for the shorter assassin about seven months after they first started dating, and he had been in love with Youhji for about three months. Ran hadn't gotten up the courage to tell him until now.
To sprout endless hell
Which lead Ken to his current position, with his bugnuks on hand. Ran had left with
Youhji a week ago, leaving him and a silent Omi. Omi hadn't said a word to him since then and was currently camped out at Ouka's house, doing a school project or something.
He could see the blame oozing out of Omi's eyes, who had fallen some time ago for their resident playboy. Youhji had played him off as too young, avoiding the subject. He hadn't been a good enough boyfriend or person to keep Ran from straying to Youhji and he could feel Omi's radiating hate.
He had wanted things to work out with Ran so badly that he had been selfish, clinging to Ran for a support the redhead was unwilling to give, and in the end it destroyed whatever they could have had. Could he help his insecurities? Ken couldn't bring himself to care about the ugly shriveled person living inside his heart.
Had he really been to clingy? To stupid, selfish, talkative? What was it? He would give anything to ask Ran and get the honest truth. The questioning, regret, was slowly killing him.
But Ran was gone, and so was Ken's heart, stuck in the leather suitcase Ran had used to pack his things.
There was, however, one thing Ken could always count on and he held it close, taking careful aim. Radiohead blared in the background. God, he wished he could be special.
The red ribbons began to flow from his arms and mingled with the sterile tile of the bathroom floor. It was red, and warm, and Ken cried.
Leave without a trace, I'll leave without a trace...
The End.
