DISCLAIMERS: Weiß Kreuz is copyrighted to Koyasu Takehito,
Project Weiß, Kyoko Tsuchiya, Marine Entertainment and
whatnots. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction written
entirely for online entertainment purposes only. No
copyright infringement intended.
Possible spoilers for the ending of the Weiß Kreuz anime.
This fic is NON-YAOI, as it will be dealing mostly with
Ken & Aya-chan. ^.^
____________________________________________________________
THE BROKEN SILENCE
by Chibi Chiriko
____________________________________________________________
When will tomorrow's smiles buffer the endless flow of
Yesterday's tears, until they are no more?
When will the warmth of the sun before us cleanse
Away the viperous cold that gags us silent?
When will the sweet refrain of the morning tide exorcise
The ceaseless chants of accusations ringing in our
Minds? Oh, that the soul be mended and the
Silence broken!
I feel myself smiling as I watch him on the field, his cleated
shoes tracing intricate, muddy patterns on the fresh, moist
green grass as he closely follows the flow of the game he is
coaching. His eyes never leave the players-- and the ball--
for one moment, his lips are closed tight over the silver
whistle that constantly squeals as his hands gesture toward
the goal. Sweat glistens on his tanned face like glinting
jewels as he runs, and I note the measured rising and falling
of his chest as he moves around the field. By watching, I
can almost feel the energy thrilling his veins, coursing
through his body like a serpents of life. I feel like I am
right there, where the action is, my own heart racing with
the harsh rhythm of the game, my body in constant, fluid
motion as I dance to the tune of exertion. But I've never
really been a sports person, and I would probably just ruin
it, so I keep my silence and content myself by watching him
play.
The whistle drops from his mouth as the final goal of the game
is scored, and he throws up his arms in a jubilant gesture,
his whole face lighting up in a brilliant smile, brighter than the
sun overhead. I chuckle as his pinecone-colored hair falls
gently across his forehead, caressing his skin like brown
feathers, and for just a wishful moment, I imagine it to be
my hand. A purer warmth than that of the gentle sunlight at
daybreak fills my soul as I see that flash of a boyish grin
across his features, pearly white teeth glistening in the
sunshine, rich brown eyes sparkling. How long has it been since
I've seen such glorious, radiant happiness on anyone's face?
I can't remember...
I wrap my arms around myself as a cold breeze blows, and as
I shiver slightly, I remember a time in the past when all I
knew was happiness, pure and simple, innocent and naive. Things
were so... *easy* then. It was a simple, peaceful world, where
all I knew was school, home, and Ran-niichan. The only
responsibilities I had then were my health and my homework,
and to be a 'good girl', which I'm sure I always was. I was
content, and I was happy, because that's what I saw all
around me. Especially in the gentle, cheerful voice of my
brother, Ran.
Then everything changed. The still, placid lake cascaded down
the bottom past the rocks, and rushed in icy torrents down
the waterfall. Two years my life's been shrouded in dark
unconsciousness, a deathlike slumber that stole my awareness
and replaced it with bleak oblivion. And... when I finally
awakened...
"Aya!"
... Everything changed...
"Ne, Aya! Earth to Fujimiya Aya!"
Startled, I can only jump back as a hand waves directly in front
of my eyes. I blink as the hand is replaced by a pair of
large, lovely dark eyes, and an earnest, concerned face.
"Ken! I--"
"Oh, come on, was that game really_*that*_boring? Maybe it wasn't
the soccer finals in the Olympics, but the energy was really
alive in there." He smiles at me, a sweet, friendly smile. "Or
maybe soccer just doesn't float your boat, huh?" He laughs
easily. "Maybe I shouldn't have invited you to the game, ne?"
He deserves a better spectator than me. "I'm sorry," I whisper,
blushing in embarrassment. "I liked the game, really, I did.
I was just distracted..."
"Naw, it's OK," he assures me, running his hand through his
hair. He looks cute when he does that, and I feel my heart
give an extra-loud thump in my chest. I will the fluttery
feeling at the pit of my stomach to go away. "I'm just glad
you came. I'll walk you home, if you want?"
I do. I nod enthusiastically. I rise to my feet and fall into
step beside him as we walk at a leisurely pace. He is suddenly
quiet, but it doesn't bother me. I wonder if *my* silence
bothers *him.* I am not usually quiet, Ran-niichan will
tell you that. I am only quiet when I am disturbed about
something. And I am, now.
I wonder about my brother. I wonder where he is, what he does.
My heart lurches as I remember the last time I saw him; crushed
underneath a pile of rubble that was once our home, badly
hurt, yet those haunted, plum-colored eyes were only staring
helplessly at me, pleading me to run far away into safety's
refuge. The last thing I heard from his lips was an utterance
of my name, spoken in naked horror, voice rough with desperation
and urgency. I remember having whirled around to see the lights
that so clearly illumined his bruised face--only to be slammed
into the comatose state I'd been in for the past two years.
And when I'd finally awakened, it was to the face of two
strangers. A tall, lovely woman I had never seen before... a
sweet-voiced girl who wore her hair the way Ran-niichan liked
me wearing mine... but both strangers. It had frightened me
at first, and yet... and yet I'd felt the oddest sense
of familiarity when my vision was finally washed clear, as
though I had encountered them before. Maybe they had visited
me in the hospital--maybe they knew Ran-niichan! I'd asked,
I'd asked, twice over, over and over again, yet they told me
they didn't know anything, and closed the discussion. But
there is always the gesture of remorse as either Manx-san or
Birman-san looked away to avoid my prying eyes, and I always
catch regret and a questioning of her own in Sakura's eyes
before her bangs hide her expression.
And then I'd learned it was better not to ask, better not to know.
Even though I will always wonder. Even though I will never stop
asking why, in my heart. It will hurt, oh, yes, it will hurt
not to know how my only family in the world fares as I go through
the day beneath a convenient mask of zest and good cheer. It
will hurt to wonder why he was not there when I awakened, why
I can't be told of what has become of him. It will hurt, it
hurts even now. But I've come to realize that if I keep nagging
them with my insistent questions, I'm not the only one who's
hurt. They, too, are affected by my questions, and I soon realized
after much pressing that I've accomplished nothing but cause
unnecessary pain and--speculation on my part--unpleasant memories.
*Of Ran-niichan?* I don't know. It drives me crazy not to know,
but I've learned that perhaps it's for the best to keep everything
bottled inside. At least for the moment. For their sakes, as
well as mine... and perhaps even for Ran-niichan's, wherever
he may be. So I throw myself wholeheartedly into working at the
Koneko no Sumu Ie. When my mind is occupied with work, and my
hands with floral arrangments and pottery, I am too busy to
contemplate these matters.
I don't think he's dead. I don't *want* to think of the possibility
that he might be dead. Somehow... somehow I've managed to cling to
the hope that I'll still see him again. Maybe not now, but I
will, eventually--sooner or later. (And I hope to God that it be
sooner!) I just have to keep on hoping, believing. I ought not
to think too much, only to know what's in my heart, and believe
in it, no matter what.
I nearly lose my balance in start when Ken speaks.
"Are you always this quiet, Aya?" he asks, a slightly amused
smile flitting across his face. "You don't strike me as the
quiet type... and you were so cheerful and talkative when I
first saw you at the flower shop. Is something wrong?"
My cheeks heat up in embarrassment. I know I'm not good company;
and Ken's too nice a guy to be hanging around with someone like
me. He deserves better, and I wish to tell him this, but I don't
know how. I don't think I even *want* to. It's selfish of me, but
I don't want him to go and leave me alone, not like the way
everybody I loved--love--did. I want him to stay, and ensure that
I am not alone... even just this once... just now...
"Iie." I shake my head, watching the way my braids swing from
side to side as I do so. "Nothing's wrong, Hidaka-san--I'm just
a little tired from work."
He smiles, and I see understanding in his large, beautiful brown
eyes. I suddenly feel the urge to holler at him, demanding what
he could possibly understand. How could he possibly know what I've
been through--he wasn't even there! How could he possibly
understand how hard it was--*is*--on me? A strange stirring of
anger flares up in my chest, and I have trouble breathing. I
have the strangest feeling I'm about to cry, and I desperately
try to fight it back.
"You don't have to call me 'Hidaka-san.'" He is speaking again.
"You called me 'Ken' a while ago, and it sounded fine. It
sounded," --He blushes--, "good, actually." He quickly looks
away, as though chastising himself, and I feel a smile quirk at
the ends of my lips. He seems like one of the good guys. I only
wish I had more to offer than just myself, and not even the best
of myself at that.
As silence settles again in a comfortable suspension above us,
I think back to when I first met Ken. There were no customers
in the shop--it was too early--and Sakura hadn't come in yet.
Momoe-san was cleaning the place up, and I was just checking to
make sure everything was in order. And then Ken came along,
like a knight in shining armor (or rather, an athlete in a helmet
and a cyclist's garb?) on his motorcyle, stray tendrils of
chestnut flapping in the wind, body bent over the handlebars
in such a way that he looked so strong and determined, an
uninterruptable inertia that just caused my heart to skip a
beat at the sight of it. And before I knew it, the chimes were
tinkling prettily, and he was inside the shop, saying he just
wanted to 'revisit the old times.' But I was well aware of his
intense gaze on me all the time.
So it probably shouldn't have come as a surprise when he asked
me--with that gentle voice and charismatic smile--if I wanted
to watch a soccer game he would manage.
But it had, and I found no reason to say no, so I said yes.
By and by, the familiarly comforting facade of the Koneko no Sumu
Ie comes into view. Panic washes over me when I see a small crowd
gathering over at the entrance, and I quicken my pace.
I hurriedly turn to Ken, face flushed. "Um, Ken," I babble,
embarrassment once again rising in my chest, "I'm really, really
sorry, but I have to go attend to our customers... I had a
really wonderful time, and thank you so much--soreja!"
Without waiting for a response, I pivot sharply and nearly *fly*
back to the shop, feeling my skirts flutter as I run. I don't
know if he's still watching--I don't feel his eyes as I dive into
the crowds and make my way toward the entrance. I feel the
sweat break out on my forehead as I see the open, eager faces
of the day's customers beaming at me through the window.
Planting myself in front of the counter and convincing myself
that I can handle this, I smile sweetly at them as their inquiries
come pouring out.
Over their heads, I see Sakura headed this way, and I sigh with
relief. At least I know I won't have to deal with this alone.
~*~*~*~
Sakura promptly sweatdropped at the sight of the crowd gathered
in front of the Koneko no Sumu Ie, and quickened her pace,
silently chastising herself for not having gotten up earlier.
Smiling in anticipation of a mock lecture from young Aya, she
clutched her handbag tighter as she started to squeeze her way
through the maze of bodies, her polite 'excuse me's' drowned by
the loud din of orders and requests and cheerful conversation.
A bigger vein bulged on her forehead.
And then she froze, purple eyes growing huge as they fell on a
familiar figure across the sidewalk. Her breath caught in her
throat, thoughts paralyzed into a single awareness of a
young man she had not seen for what felt like centuries...
"Ano... K-Ken-san!" she sputtered, staring at him in shock.
It was as though the crowds, the noise, the heat of midmorning
had faded into the backdrop, and all she was aware of was
the overwhelming rush of emotions tumbling in a disarray within
her, and the surprise and recognition that flashed in Hidaka
Ken's almond eyes.
A moment later, she had disentangled herself from the crowds,
and found herself standing right before Ken. No words passed
between them, although everything they wanted to say, all the
questions her heart demanded, the answers he could not say
out loud--all in the eyes. A tense silence hung like ivy above
them, thickening to the point of being wired taut, and finally
approaching the breaking point.
"Sakura-chan," he said simply, and although his voice was carefully
neutral, he could not hide the honesty of his emotions bared
so shamelessly on his expression.
"Ken-san." Her voice was barely above a whisper, tears she wasn't
aware of filled her lovely pansy depths. "Why are you here? Where
are the others?"
Ken's face immediately took on a guarded expression, and he
turned away from her and proceeded to leave. Sakura felt her
heart slowly breaking at the cold gesture that was so unlike
the Hidaka Ken she thought she knew. "Goodbye, Sakura." His
voice was strangely hollow.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Sakura spoke tremulously, praying
her soft voice didn't tremble so obviously. So many questions...
*One at a time,* she reminded herself firmly. "Ken-san... Omi-san,
Youji-san--" She swallowed painfully. "--and... and Aya-san--
you've all been alive all this time?"
Ken hesitated, but did not look back. Her heart tightened when
she saw him stiffen, and shame swept over her as a betraying tear
crawled down her cheek.
"Yes." Nothing else in his voice but the truth of his answer.
"That's all I can tell you. Now please, leave me alone. Let us
go."
Elation and disappointment flooded Sakura's heart as she watched
Ken walk away, walk away from her, from *them*, forever. Elation
at finally knowing for sure that her friends--*Especially Aya-san,*
a voice in her head taunted mockingly--were alive and well;
disappointment at not knowing where she could see them, *how*
they were, and why her own questions could never be answered.
Despite the wetness in her eyes, and the fact that she had just
drunk a nice, warm glass of milk, her throat was suddenly dry.
She lifted a slightly shaking hand to her cheek to brush away
the tears, and managed an almost genuine smile on her lips as
she quietly moved past the crowds and into the shop.
~*~*~*~
As soon as I see Sakura, I heave a deep sigh of relief. I don't
know why, but her presence has that effect on me--when I'm in
my most intensely temperamental moods, seeing her levelheaded
gaze settle on me, those wise purple eyes so like Ran-niichan's,
calms me down, providing a momentary comfort. Just like the
first time I saw her. Just like now.
"Saaaaaaaaaakura!" I whine, in the pretense of a complaint, knowing
that it shows so clearly in my eyes how happy I am to see her.
"Mou, you're late again! Dooooush'te? Look at this *crowd!*"
I pretend to pout.
Sakura smiles faintly, and takes her place in front of the counter.
"Gomen," she says quietly, and I immediately sense that something
is wrong. "I was delayed."
It's one of those masking excuses that conceal the *real* reason
for her late arrival, but I know better than to ask why. And I
hate myself for what I'm about to do, to leave her all by herself
for a moment of selfish yearning.
"Ne, Sakura-san," I say, a trifle nervous as she starts taking
orders, "I just have to go... check something outside. I'll be
back *real* soon, I promise!" And I give her a charming, convincing
smile, hoping that being able to persuade her will convince
myself.
She looks up at me in surprise. "O-Okay," she says, and her
eyes silently plead for an answer. I continue to smile, my gaze
assuring her that I'll tell her all about it later.
I hurry out the door, ignoring the sudden blast of searing white
heat as the sunlight directly falls in my line of vision,
momentarily blinding me. I blink as I push my way through the
crowd, and as soon as I get my sight back, I look around in a
frantic daze. I look around for Ken.
My heart sinks when I find that he is nowhere to be seen. I can't
repress the disappointment that swells up inside me as I see that
he is gone. *Even nice guys have their limits.* Trying to ignore
the sudden, overwhelming ache in my chest, and the sensation of
being on the verge of tears for no reason, I turn around to head
back inside.
"Aya?"
I'd know his voice anywhere.
I turn around and feel a smile light up my face and flower in my
heart when I see Ken standing right behind me, grinning somewhat
shyly as he sees my delight. I am nearly weak with relief, and,
giggling softly, I suddenly feel like my old self again.
"I thought you'd left already," I tell him honestly. "Where've
you been?"
"Around," he says. He removes his hands from his back. "I got
this for you."
I gasp in shock as he holds out a pair of flowers tied loosely
together by a pale pink ribbon, placing it in my hand. As I
study the blossoms, trembling with surprised delight, I
realize that they are my two favorite flowers: the green-petaled
Gentian and the scarlet rose.
"Ken," I breathe, loving the enchanting play of the intermingling
fragrances in my nostrils. "How did you know these were my
favorites?"
He shrugs modestly. "Oh, it was just a lucky guess." He beams.
"Do you like them?"
"Love them," I assure him, smiling gently at him. "Ken... thank
you. I'll never forget this."
I think what I meant was that I would never forget *him.*
He blushes, embarrassed but pleased. "Ahh, well..." He is at a
loss for words, and I find it amusing, though I carefully hold
back my laughter.
I open my mouth to invite him inside, to at least stay for lunch,
but he speaks before I can get a word out. "I'd better go," he
says quickly, raking his fingers through those glossy chestnut
bangs as he turns to leave. "Dewa, Aya."
"M-Matte," I call out, before I even realize what I am doing.
He turns around, eyebrows raised. I clutch the flowers to my
heart as I hold out my hand. I can feel the morning glory shining
in my eyes. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Hidaka Ken," I
say softly.
A quiet sigh floats out of his lips as he takes my hand, and
shakes it. "The pleasure was mine, Fujimiya Aya." One quick,
unforgettable, happy smile, and he is gone.
And yet even as I stand alone in the street, my shadow the
only one stretching behind me, I am not lonely. I can still
feel the lingering warmth of the brush of his fingers against
mine when he handed me the flowers, still hear the echo of
his voice in my ears. If I concentrate hard enough, I can
still see him standing in the spot where I first noticed
him earlier that day.
Suddenly, I think of Ran-niichan... and this time, knowing that
he is not here with me doesn't at once fill me with bitterness.
It is almost as though gazing at those softly unfurling crimson
petals is like peering into his soul, and I can almost say for
certain that he is all right.
I am smiling as I walk back into the shop. My fingers never
for once loosen over the flowers.
~*~*~*~
"How was it?"
The question is asked quietly, any emotion that might have been
revealed in those beautiful violet eyes hidden behind a fiery
lock.
"It was... it was fine." No need to mention how strangely he'd
felt when he'd stepped away from his bike and stared at the place
that had been more or less his home for the past two years of
his new life. No need to mention how jarring it was to realize
it was like he was a stranger in the place he'd devoted countless
cheerful mornings to, a place in which he learned that happiness
could be as simple as watching things grow into fruition under
his care.
Apparently, it is not the answer the other is expecting. Plum-
colored eyes peek earnestly, almost pleadingly, into the rich
brown orbs of luminescence. His low voice speaks once again.
"How is... how is she?"
Silence, save for the steady dripping of the loosely closed
tap over the sink. A slight, gentle smile brightens the
younger man's expression as the memory of those shining
sapphirine depths and gorgeous, grateful smile flashes across
his brain, the memory of a warm and silken touch burning
into his palm. The sound of her sweet, heartfelt voice is
still ringing in his ears.
"She's--She's all right," he whispers. "She's great."
Profound relief is wafted into the air out of those dry lips,
the expression on the older man's face almost... happy. He
closes his eyes as he heaves a deep sigh.
"I'm glad."
*** OWARI ***
May 31st, 2000
2:05 p.m.
Tweaked: 2:35 p.m.
Finally! *glares at the story and gives it a little kick* Geez,
if only you knew how much trouble this little baby gave me...
*shakes head* It would probably have a better effect if I'd
been able to write it all in one sitting, which I wasn't
able to do, thanks to a *certain* person, and I was supposed
to leave it at a sort of 'hanging' ending, but the story
wouldn't agree; I guess it wanted closure for once. _ End
of summer attack, indeed.
I probably *really* over-OOCed Aya-chan beyond the boundaries
of creative license, and for that, I am SO SORRY! _
(Believe me, what was supposed to be the original version
of this fic was *way* more OOC; be glad I decided to write
a new one instead.) And I guess I was sort of taking liberties
with the plot (Plot? What plot?), 'cause even though I *have*
seen the ending of the WK anime, I didn't understand whatever
it was Sakura was telling Aya-chan when she awakened, so if
there were some mistakes with regards to that, please let
me know (and enlighten me on the facts, as well)! ^-^; I know
I said I was sort of against Ran/Sakura, but I think I'm
mellowing out, although I still say it's Aya x Ken, itsu
made mo!
Forward all comments, criticisms, revision suggestions,
chocolates, death threats, love letters, Freesia, candy
(bubble gum, anyone?), WK manga, WK DP albums and MKR tapes
to this screamin' Zagato fan at chibichiriko@hotmail.com
Take care, and God bless!
~*~*~*~
Chibi Chiriko
shieikan@yahoo.com
chibichiriko@hotmail.com
swirlicue@homestead.com
Project Weiß, Kyoko Tsuchiya, Marine Entertainment and
whatnots. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction written
entirely for online entertainment purposes only. No
copyright infringement intended.
Possible spoilers for the ending of the Weiß Kreuz anime.
This fic is NON-YAOI, as it will be dealing mostly with
Ken & Aya-chan. ^.^
____________________________________________________________
THE BROKEN SILENCE
by Chibi Chiriko
____________________________________________________________
When will tomorrow's smiles buffer the endless flow of
Yesterday's tears, until they are no more?
When will the warmth of the sun before us cleanse
Away the viperous cold that gags us silent?
When will the sweet refrain of the morning tide exorcise
The ceaseless chants of accusations ringing in our
Minds? Oh, that the soul be mended and the
Silence broken!
I feel myself smiling as I watch him on the field, his cleated
shoes tracing intricate, muddy patterns on the fresh, moist
green grass as he closely follows the flow of the game he is
coaching. His eyes never leave the players-- and the ball--
for one moment, his lips are closed tight over the silver
whistle that constantly squeals as his hands gesture toward
the goal. Sweat glistens on his tanned face like glinting
jewels as he runs, and I note the measured rising and falling
of his chest as he moves around the field. By watching, I
can almost feel the energy thrilling his veins, coursing
through his body like a serpents of life. I feel like I am
right there, where the action is, my own heart racing with
the harsh rhythm of the game, my body in constant, fluid
motion as I dance to the tune of exertion. But I've never
really been a sports person, and I would probably just ruin
it, so I keep my silence and content myself by watching him
play.
The whistle drops from his mouth as the final goal of the game
is scored, and he throws up his arms in a jubilant gesture,
his whole face lighting up in a brilliant smile, brighter than the
sun overhead. I chuckle as his pinecone-colored hair falls
gently across his forehead, caressing his skin like brown
feathers, and for just a wishful moment, I imagine it to be
my hand. A purer warmth than that of the gentle sunlight at
daybreak fills my soul as I see that flash of a boyish grin
across his features, pearly white teeth glistening in the
sunshine, rich brown eyes sparkling. How long has it been since
I've seen such glorious, radiant happiness on anyone's face?
I can't remember...
I wrap my arms around myself as a cold breeze blows, and as
I shiver slightly, I remember a time in the past when all I
knew was happiness, pure and simple, innocent and naive. Things
were so... *easy* then. It was a simple, peaceful world, where
all I knew was school, home, and Ran-niichan. The only
responsibilities I had then were my health and my homework,
and to be a 'good girl', which I'm sure I always was. I was
content, and I was happy, because that's what I saw all
around me. Especially in the gentle, cheerful voice of my
brother, Ran.
Then everything changed. The still, placid lake cascaded down
the bottom past the rocks, and rushed in icy torrents down
the waterfall. Two years my life's been shrouded in dark
unconsciousness, a deathlike slumber that stole my awareness
and replaced it with bleak oblivion. And... when I finally
awakened...
"Aya!"
... Everything changed...
"Ne, Aya! Earth to Fujimiya Aya!"
Startled, I can only jump back as a hand waves directly in front
of my eyes. I blink as the hand is replaced by a pair of
large, lovely dark eyes, and an earnest, concerned face.
"Ken! I--"
"Oh, come on, was that game really_*that*_boring? Maybe it wasn't
the soccer finals in the Olympics, but the energy was really
alive in there." He smiles at me, a sweet, friendly smile. "Or
maybe soccer just doesn't float your boat, huh?" He laughs
easily. "Maybe I shouldn't have invited you to the game, ne?"
He deserves a better spectator than me. "I'm sorry," I whisper,
blushing in embarrassment. "I liked the game, really, I did.
I was just distracted..."
"Naw, it's OK," he assures me, running his hand through his
hair. He looks cute when he does that, and I feel my heart
give an extra-loud thump in my chest. I will the fluttery
feeling at the pit of my stomach to go away. "I'm just glad
you came. I'll walk you home, if you want?"
I do. I nod enthusiastically. I rise to my feet and fall into
step beside him as we walk at a leisurely pace. He is suddenly
quiet, but it doesn't bother me. I wonder if *my* silence
bothers *him.* I am not usually quiet, Ran-niichan will
tell you that. I am only quiet when I am disturbed about
something. And I am, now.
I wonder about my brother. I wonder where he is, what he does.
My heart lurches as I remember the last time I saw him; crushed
underneath a pile of rubble that was once our home, badly
hurt, yet those haunted, plum-colored eyes were only staring
helplessly at me, pleading me to run far away into safety's
refuge. The last thing I heard from his lips was an utterance
of my name, spoken in naked horror, voice rough with desperation
and urgency. I remember having whirled around to see the lights
that so clearly illumined his bruised face--only to be slammed
into the comatose state I'd been in for the past two years.
And when I'd finally awakened, it was to the face of two
strangers. A tall, lovely woman I had never seen before... a
sweet-voiced girl who wore her hair the way Ran-niichan liked
me wearing mine... but both strangers. It had frightened me
at first, and yet... and yet I'd felt the oddest sense
of familiarity when my vision was finally washed clear, as
though I had encountered them before. Maybe they had visited
me in the hospital--maybe they knew Ran-niichan! I'd asked,
I'd asked, twice over, over and over again, yet they told me
they didn't know anything, and closed the discussion. But
there is always the gesture of remorse as either Manx-san or
Birman-san looked away to avoid my prying eyes, and I always
catch regret and a questioning of her own in Sakura's eyes
before her bangs hide her expression.
And then I'd learned it was better not to ask, better not to know.
Even though I will always wonder. Even though I will never stop
asking why, in my heart. It will hurt, oh, yes, it will hurt
not to know how my only family in the world fares as I go through
the day beneath a convenient mask of zest and good cheer. It
will hurt to wonder why he was not there when I awakened, why
I can't be told of what has become of him. It will hurt, it
hurts even now. But I've come to realize that if I keep nagging
them with my insistent questions, I'm not the only one who's
hurt. They, too, are affected by my questions, and I soon realized
after much pressing that I've accomplished nothing but cause
unnecessary pain and--speculation on my part--unpleasant memories.
*Of Ran-niichan?* I don't know. It drives me crazy not to know,
but I've learned that perhaps it's for the best to keep everything
bottled inside. At least for the moment. For their sakes, as
well as mine... and perhaps even for Ran-niichan's, wherever
he may be. So I throw myself wholeheartedly into working at the
Koneko no Sumu Ie. When my mind is occupied with work, and my
hands with floral arrangments and pottery, I am too busy to
contemplate these matters.
I don't think he's dead. I don't *want* to think of the possibility
that he might be dead. Somehow... somehow I've managed to cling to
the hope that I'll still see him again. Maybe not now, but I
will, eventually--sooner or later. (And I hope to God that it be
sooner!) I just have to keep on hoping, believing. I ought not
to think too much, only to know what's in my heart, and believe
in it, no matter what.
I nearly lose my balance in start when Ken speaks.
"Are you always this quiet, Aya?" he asks, a slightly amused
smile flitting across his face. "You don't strike me as the
quiet type... and you were so cheerful and talkative when I
first saw you at the flower shop. Is something wrong?"
My cheeks heat up in embarrassment. I know I'm not good company;
and Ken's too nice a guy to be hanging around with someone like
me. He deserves better, and I wish to tell him this, but I don't
know how. I don't think I even *want* to. It's selfish of me, but
I don't want him to go and leave me alone, not like the way
everybody I loved--love--did. I want him to stay, and ensure that
I am not alone... even just this once... just now...
"Iie." I shake my head, watching the way my braids swing from
side to side as I do so. "Nothing's wrong, Hidaka-san--I'm just
a little tired from work."
He smiles, and I see understanding in his large, beautiful brown
eyes. I suddenly feel the urge to holler at him, demanding what
he could possibly understand. How could he possibly know what I've
been through--he wasn't even there! How could he possibly
understand how hard it was--*is*--on me? A strange stirring of
anger flares up in my chest, and I have trouble breathing. I
have the strangest feeling I'm about to cry, and I desperately
try to fight it back.
"You don't have to call me 'Hidaka-san.'" He is speaking again.
"You called me 'Ken' a while ago, and it sounded fine. It
sounded," --He blushes--, "good, actually." He quickly looks
away, as though chastising himself, and I feel a smile quirk at
the ends of my lips. He seems like one of the good guys. I only
wish I had more to offer than just myself, and not even the best
of myself at that.
As silence settles again in a comfortable suspension above us,
I think back to when I first met Ken. There were no customers
in the shop--it was too early--and Sakura hadn't come in yet.
Momoe-san was cleaning the place up, and I was just checking to
make sure everything was in order. And then Ken came along,
like a knight in shining armor (or rather, an athlete in a helmet
and a cyclist's garb?) on his motorcyle, stray tendrils of
chestnut flapping in the wind, body bent over the handlebars
in such a way that he looked so strong and determined, an
uninterruptable inertia that just caused my heart to skip a
beat at the sight of it. And before I knew it, the chimes were
tinkling prettily, and he was inside the shop, saying he just
wanted to 'revisit the old times.' But I was well aware of his
intense gaze on me all the time.
So it probably shouldn't have come as a surprise when he asked
me--with that gentle voice and charismatic smile--if I wanted
to watch a soccer game he would manage.
But it had, and I found no reason to say no, so I said yes.
By and by, the familiarly comforting facade of the Koneko no Sumu
Ie comes into view. Panic washes over me when I see a small crowd
gathering over at the entrance, and I quicken my pace.
I hurriedly turn to Ken, face flushed. "Um, Ken," I babble,
embarrassment once again rising in my chest, "I'm really, really
sorry, but I have to go attend to our customers... I had a
really wonderful time, and thank you so much--soreja!"
Without waiting for a response, I pivot sharply and nearly *fly*
back to the shop, feeling my skirts flutter as I run. I don't
know if he's still watching--I don't feel his eyes as I dive into
the crowds and make my way toward the entrance. I feel the
sweat break out on my forehead as I see the open, eager faces
of the day's customers beaming at me through the window.
Planting myself in front of the counter and convincing myself
that I can handle this, I smile sweetly at them as their inquiries
come pouring out.
Over their heads, I see Sakura headed this way, and I sigh with
relief. At least I know I won't have to deal with this alone.
~*~*~*~
Sakura promptly sweatdropped at the sight of the crowd gathered
in front of the Koneko no Sumu Ie, and quickened her pace,
silently chastising herself for not having gotten up earlier.
Smiling in anticipation of a mock lecture from young Aya, she
clutched her handbag tighter as she started to squeeze her way
through the maze of bodies, her polite 'excuse me's' drowned by
the loud din of orders and requests and cheerful conversation.
A bigger vein bulged on her forehead.
And then she froze, purple eyes growing huge as they fell on a
familiar figure across the sidewalk. Her breath caught in her
throat, thoughts paralyzed into a single awareness of a
young man she had not seen for what felt like centuries...
"Ano... K-Ken-san!" she sputtered, staring at him in shock.
It was as though the crowds, the noise, the heat of midmorning
had faded into the backdrop, and all she was aware of was
the overwhelming rush of emotions tumbling in a disarray within
her, and the surprise and recognition that flashed in Hidaka
Ken's almond eyes.
A moment later, she had disentangled herself from the crowds,
and found herself standing right before Ken. No words passed
between them, although everything they wanted to say, all the
questions her heart demanded, the answers he could not say
out loud--all in the eyes. A tense silence hung like ivy above
them, thickening to the point of being wired taut, and finally
approaching the breaking point.
"Sakura-chan," he said simply, and although his voice was carefully
neutral, he could not hide the honesty of his emotions bared
so shamelessly on his expression.
"Ken-san." Her voice was barely above a whisper, tears she wasn't
aware of filled her lovely pansy depths. "Why are you here? Where
are the others?"
Ken's face immediately took on a guarded expression, and he
turned away from her and proceeded to leave. Sakura felt her
heart slowly breaking at the cold gesture that was so unlike
the Hidaka Ken she thought she knew. "Goodbye, Sakura." His
voice was strangely hollow.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Sakura spoke tremulously, praying
her soft voice didn't tremble so obviously. So many questions...
*One at a time,* she reminded herself firmly. "Ken-san... Omi-san,
Youji-san--" She swallowed painfully. "--and... and Aya-san--
you've all been alive all this time?"
Ken hesitated, but did not look back. Her heart tightened when
she saw him stiffen, and shame swept over her as a betraying tear
crawled down her cheek.
"Yes." Nothing else in his voice but the truth of his answer.
"That's all I can tell you. Now please, leave me alone. Let us
go."
Elation and disappointment flooded Sakura's heart as she watched
Ken walk away, walk away from her, from *them*, forever. Elation
at finally knowing for sure that her friends--*Especially Aya-san,*
a voice in her head taunted mockingly--were alive and well;
disappointment at not knowing where she could see them, *how*
they were, and why her own questions could never be answered.
Despite the wetness in her eyes, and the fact that she had just
drunk a nice, warm glass of milk, her throat was suddenly dry.
She lifted a slightly shaking hand to her cheek to brush away
the tears, and managed an almost genuine smile on her lips as
she quietly moved past the crowds and into the shop.
~*~*~*~
As soon as I see Sakura, I heave a deep sigh of relief. I don't
know why, but her presence has that effect on me--when I'm in
my most intensely temperamental moods, seeing her levelheaded
gaze settle on me, those wise purple eyes so like Ran-niichan's,
calms me down, providing a momentary comfort. Just like the
first time I saw her. Just like now.
"Saaaaaaaaaakura!" I whine, in the pretense of a complaint, knowing
that it shows so clearly in my eyes how happy I am to see her.
"Mou, you're late again! Dooooush'te? Look at this *crowd!*"
I pretend to pout.
Sakura smiles faintly, and takes her place in front of the counter.
"Gomen," she says quietly, and I immediately sense that something
is wrong. "I was delayed."
It's one of those masking excuses that conceal the *real* reason
for her late arrival, but I know better than to ask why. And I
hate myself for what I'm about to do, to leave her all by herself
for a moment of selfish yearning.
"Ne, Sakura-san," I say, a trifle nervous as she starts taking
orders, "I just have to go... check something outside. I'll be
back *real* soon, I promise!" And I give her a charming, convincing
smile, hoping that being able to persuade her will convince
myself.
She looks up at me in surprise. "O-Okay," she says, and her
eyes silently plead for an answer. I continue to smile, my gaze
assuring her that I'll tell her all about it later.
I hurry out the door, ignoring the sudden blast of searing white
heat as the sunlight directly falls in my line of vision,
momentarily blinding me. I blink as I push my way through the
crowd, and as soon as I get my sight back, I look around in a
frantic daze. I look around for Ken.
My heart sinks when I find that he is nowhere to be seen. I can't
repress the disappointment that swells up inside me as I see that
he is gone. *Even nice guys have their limits.* Trying to ignore
the sudden, overwhelming ache in my chest, and the sensation of
being on the verge of tears for no reason, I turn around to head
back inside.
"Aya?"
I'd know his voice anywhere.
I turn around and feel a smile light up my face and flower in my
heart when I see Ken standing right behind me, grinning somewhat
shyly as he sees my delight. I am nearly weak with relief, and,
giggling softly, I suddenly feel like my old self again.
"I thought you'd left already," I tell him honestly. "Where've
you been?"
"Around," he says. He removes his hands from his back. "I got
this for you."
I gasp in shock as he holds out a pair of flowers tied loosely
together by a pale pink ribbon, placing it in my hand. As I
study the blossoms, trembling with surprised delight, I
realize that they are my two favorite flowers: the green-petaled
Gentian and the scarlet rose.
"Ken," I breathe, loving the enchanting play of the intermingling
fragrances in my nostrils. "How did you know these were my
favorites?"
He shrugs modestly. "Oh, it was just a lucky guess." He beams.
"Do you like them?"
"Love them," I assure him, smiling gently at him. "Ken... thank
you. I'll never forget this."
I think what I meant was that I would never forget *him.*
He blushes, embarrassed but pleased. "Ahh, well..." He is at a
loss for words, and I find it amusing, though I carefully hold
back my laughter.
I open my mouth to invite him inside, to at least stay for lunch,
but he speaks before I can get a word out. "I'd better go," he
says quickly, raking his fingers through those glossy chestnut
bangs as he turns to leave. "Dewa, Aya."
"M-Matte," I call out, before I even realize what I am doing.
He turns around, eyebrows raised. I clutch the flowers to my
heart as I hold out my hand. I can feel the morning glory shining
in my eyes. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Hidaka Ken," I
say softly.
A quiet sigh floats out of his lips as he takes my hand, and
shakes it. "The pleasure was mine, Fujimiya Aya." One quick,
unforgettable, happy smile, and he is gone.
And yet even as I stand alone in the street, my shadow the
only one stretching behind me, I am not lonely. I can still
feel the lingering warmth of the brush of his fingers against
mine when he handed me the flowers, still hear the echo of
his voice in my ears. If I concentrate hard enough, I can
still see him standing in the spot where I first noticed
him earlier that day.
Suddenly, I think of Ran-niichan... and this time, knowing that
he is not here with me doesn't at once fill me with bitterness.
It is almost as though gazing at those softly unfurling crimson
petals is like peering into his soul, and I can almost say for
certain that he is all right.
I am smiling as I walk back into the shop. My fingers never
for once loosen over the flowers.
~*~*~*~
"How was it?"
The question is asked quietly, any emotion that might have been
revealed in those beautiful violet eyes hidden behind a fiery
lock.
"It was... it was fine." No need to mention how strangely he'd
felt when he'd stepped away from his bike and stared at the place
that had been more or less his home for the past two years of
his new life. No need to mention how jarring it was to realize
it was like he was a stranger in the place he'd devoted countless
cheerful mornings to, a place in which he learned that happiness
could be as simple as watching things grow into fruition under
his care.
Apparently, it is not the answer the other is expecting. Plum-
colored eyes peek earnestly, almost pleadingly, into the rich
brown orbs of luminescence. His low voice speaks once again.
"How is... how is she?"
Silence, save for the steady dripping of the loosely closed
tap over the sink. A slight, gentle smile brightens the
younger man's expression as the memory of those shining
sapphirine depths and gorgeous, grateful smile flashes across
his brain, the memory of a warm and silken touch burning
into his palm. The sound of her sweet, heartfelt voice is
still ringing in his ears.
"She's--She's all right," he whispers. "She's great."
Profound relief is wafted into the air out of those dry lips,
the expression on the older man's face almost... happy. He
closes his eyes as he heaves a deep sigh.
"I'm glad."
*** OWARI ***
May 31st, 2000
2:05 p.m.
Tweaked: 2:35 p.m.
Finally! *glares at the story and gives it a little kick* Geez,
if only you knew how much trouble this little baby gave me...
*shakes head* It would probably have a better effect if I'd
been able to write it all in one sitting, which I wasn't
able to do, thanks to a *certain* person, and I was supposed
to leave it at a sort of 'hanging' ending, but the story
wouldn't agree; I guess it wanted closure for once. _ End
of summer attack, indeed.
I probably *really* over-OOCed Aya-chan beyond the boundaries
of creative license, and for that, I am SO SORRY! _
(Believe me, what was supposed to be the original version
of this fic was *way* more OOC; be glad I decided to write
a new one instead.) And I guess I was sort of taking liberties
with the plot (Plot? What plot?), 'cause even though I *have*
seen the ending of the WK anime, I didn't understand whatever
it was Sakura was telling Aya-chan when she awakened, so if
there were some mistakes with regards to that, please let
me know (and enlighten me on the facts, as well)! ^-^; I know
I said I was sort of against Ran/Sakura, but I think I'm
mellowing out, although I still say it's Aya x Ken, itsu
made mo!
Forward all comments, criticisms, revision suggestions,
chocolates, death threats, love letters, Freesia, candy
(bubble gum, anyone?), WK manga, WK DP albums and MKR tapes
to this screamin' Zagato fan at chibichiriko@hotmail.com
Take care, and God bless!
~*~*~*~
Chibi Chiriko
shieikan@yahoo.com
chibichiriko@hotmail.com
swirlicue@homestead.com