Title: Requiem for a Dream
Author: Xerian Poe
Warnings: Basic spoilers about Aya-chan now, and most likely about the Taketori family later on. Doesn't really stick to the plotline at any specific point. In fact, I'm uncertain when exactly this takes place. Lots of Aya angst, graphic violence, and shounen ai implications of a sort, as well as being extremely dark. Also, This story may -eventually- becoming yaoi. That was actually the original intent, but... well, you can see the results. ^^ Oh, and before you get too far let me warn you that this story is unyet finished, and currently I am uncertain if it will ever -get- finished. I hate to leave anyone hanging, but I just really wanted some feedback on this portion. Hopefully, though, my creative juices will get flowing once again.
And, no, none of these characters or anything Weiss is mine. I just chose to fit them into my twisted imagination at will. ^^
... and, yes, I was in a strange mood when I wrote this. o.O;
******************
"No! Please don't kill me! I'll give you anything you want... anything!"
Desperation. It filled the woman's voice as she cowered in the corner, staring up at Aya with imploring eyes. He could smell the fear on her, mingling with the muskier scent of death from his two previous kills, already beginning their slow decay across the darkened room.
The moonlight glinted off the portions of his blade not already stained with blood, offering the woman the promise of death. A promise which Aya would fulfill with grim efficiency.
They always begged for their lives in the end. This woman's cries were no different than the countless others that he had slain before. Even her eyes shone the same as all of her predecessors, filled with hope of some miracle he was not willing to give, that last desperate attempt to deny fate.
Aya turned the blade of his katana slowly, raising it gracefully above his head. The woman's eyes grew wide, her pleas freezing in her throat as she stared, entranced, realization dawning on her.
Meeting her eyes, Aya drank in her features, committing them all to memory. He made it a habit to memorize his victim's faces thus; at least this way he could identify who it was haunting his dreams. This woman would undoubtedly join the sea of faces already awaiting him in his sleep.
"Shine," he whispered, bringing the katana down in one fluid motion.
The world grew still around him, the only sounds his own racing heartbeat and the quiet *swish* of the blade through the air. Only two people existed in the world right now, the hunter and the hunted, as the moment stretched on into infinity.
Blood. His blade met resistance, breaking the gruesome intimacy of the moment. With one final push Aya tore through flesh and bone, leaving the woman to lay like some demented child's broken toy on the cold marble floors.
Lifeless eyes stared accusingly at him from the crimson halo framing her head. The dark stain beneath her began to grow, standing out in stark contrast to the white floors, even in the darkness of the small office.
Aya took an involuntary step backwards as the puddle grew closer, seeming to seek him out, mocking him. He choked back the feeling of horror rising in his throat, knowing full well that he had stopped crying over them a long time ago.
No one cried for the players in this cruel game of death.
Wiping his katana clean on his jacket, he wondered solemnly if anyone would ever cry for him. A small, humorless sound, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, escaped his throat at the thought.
Of course no one would. In the beginning he had cried himself to sleep after every mission, despite knowing that every life he took deserved to be taken.
Or at least that was his justification.
He had cried for Aya-chan, for his slain parents... even the person that Ran -could- have become.
But not once had he cried for himself... whoever that was.
*****
Aya stared straight ahead, his eyes locked on the empty road before him. The interior of the car was silent as they drove along, except for the dull hum of the air conditioning and the soft sounds of the radio. A woman's soft voice drifted along a sea of bass and acoustic guitar, its low moan somehow rooting their awareness to the present and preventing their thoughts from taking flight into dangerous territory.
Aya let the words drift over him, the simple phrasing of the song fitting his mood, his situation-- fitting everything too well at that moment. Sighing inaudibly, he gripped the steering wheel tighter as the memory of the fear in the woman's eyes moments before his blade tore through her flitted through his mind, mingling with the steady hum issuing from the radio, weaving together to create an oddly alluring whole. It made him marvel at the remorse rising in his chest.
Ironic, how a cold efficient killer could still feel something as trivial as remorse. He had hoped he'd be over that by now.
It was always this way after a mission, each man locked in his own thoughts as they returned from their bloody work. They never spoke, each too busy struggling with his own conscience in order to maintain that precarious hold on sanity they all shared. A new mission, a new sin, a new justification just to keep going.
Aya glanced over at Ken, the other boy's expression hollow as he stared out at the passing streetlight. He shuddered as a shadow passed over the brunette's features, the usually vibrant eyes dark with some unknown emotion.
There was something troubling in Ken's eyes... the emptiness in them was far too much like the emptiness which gazed out at Aya from the mirror every morning. Ken's eyes had never looked so dead before.
Or maybe I just haven't been looking. Aya fought to keep his attention on the road, feeling the desire to stare into those azure eyes, if for no other reason than to reassure himself that that emptiness he'd seen within them had been a dream, a mere momentary reflection of the his own emptiness onto Ken.
Ken was different. Despite his quick temper and seeming disillusionment in the world Ken wasn't a killer deep down. In these past months working with him Aya had realized just how different Ken was from himself or Youji... or even Omi, in that respect. Ken still believed that Weiss were the good guys, that what he was doing was right. The rest of them professed as much on the surface, but deep down they had all come to the realization that, justifications aside, they had nowhere else to go in the world. They were stuck, for better or worse.
And it shone in their eyes. Aya's most of all. His mother had always told him that you could read his soul through his eyes.
Perhaps she was right after all.
Ken... was the same way. Despite their seeming differences, Ken was more like Aya than even Aya himself cared to acknowledge. The only difference was Ken was either foolish enough or courageous enough to let the emotions swirling inside of him out.
But lately....
Stop thinking about it. Don't ask questions. Because asking means you care about their answers.
He couldn't let himself care about Ken or Omi or Youji or... anyone. All his emotions were dead, scattered across the rain soaked pavement on that long ago night. He was Aya now, carrying the name of the last person he had let himself care for, perhaps only to remind himself where that caring had gotten him.
His heart rested alongside her in that cold hospital bed. He wondered if she would ever let him reclaim it.
Aya sighed quietly, reaching over to switch off the radio as he chased the thoughts from his mind. Brooding like this never did any good anyway. It didn't change the past or what he'd become.
Turning the car down the last of the many dark streets they had traveled that night, he searched for a faint glimmering. He found it, the small lamp shining through the window of their apartment above the Koneko like a beacon.
****
Aya turned in bed, the sweat soaked sheets twisting themselves around his body. He cried out softly in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering as his eyes danced to the images in his mind.
He had grown to loathe sleep and the visions that accompanied it. Faces of those he'd killed, floating in an endless sea of blood, visions of death... memories of the shattered life that had led him down this path.
Rolling over onto his back, eyelashes fluttering slightly against his cheeks, a soft sob escaped his lips.
"Aya...."
****
"Niichan! Guess what today is?" Aya-chan smiled mischievously at her older brother as she flitted from one end of the kitchen to the next.
Aya? Ran swiveled around searching for the source of the voice. Glancing around he realised he stood in the warm interior of his parent's kitchen, early morning sunlight streaming through the windows, bathing the room in a comforting glow.
Aya-chan stood with her back to him, grinning secretively to herself as she dropped bread into the toaster.
Aya... but how? This is... this is my home. And today is... Today is...
"Thursday?" Ran moved around his sister to the cabinet, grabbing the dishes and setting the table for breakfast, following the same motions as he had the first time he had lived this memory. He wanted to say something different... to tell her he loved her.
To warn her...
Tonight is... He pushed back the thought and just let the dream drift over him, losing himself in Aya-chan's presence. Even if it was only a dream he just wanted to see her... just this once. To talk to her again. To hear her laugh.
For now he would lie to himself. After all, what was one small lie on top of a mountain of sin?
"Niichan!" Aya-chan stomped her foot on the kitchen floor in mock appall, "Don't tell me you forgot!"
"What? Today isn't Thursday?" he raised his eyebrow in feigned surprise.
This is how it was before... this is how it was to be Ran. It surprised him how easily the old motions came to him, how effortlessly he could fall back into the role of the shy, slightly overprotective older brother.
"You know what I mean!"
"Let's see, today is... wait, wait, don't tell me. I know there was something going on today." He absently tapped his finger against his forehead as if in deep thought. "Well, it's not Christmas. Wait! I remember... you have that dentist appointment that I have to take you to, right?"
Aya-chan rolled her eyes and smiled at him as she popped a few more pieces of bread into the toaster. "Ran, you know what I mean!"
"Oh, so it's Ran and not niichan now, huh?" He finished arranging the silverware on the table and joined her at the counter. "Well, even if I've been down-graded I guess it's still my duty as brother to wish you a happy birthday."
Aya-chan turned to smile at him again, "That's right... and you know what that means!"
Ran leaned casually against the counter, looking around innocently, "And what exactly is that?"
"Niichan! No more kidding! You promised me that you would take me to the festival tonight. And don't try to get out of it, because I've already devised a strategy for revenge if you do." She motioned threateningly with the butter knife she was holding.
The festival. That was it.
Tonight is... he couldn't bring himself to say it, even in his dream. She was so happy... so full of life. If he didn't say it, it wouldn't come true. They wouldn't return to find their parents dead and that car wouldn't...
He looked away, the sight of her smiling obliviously at him suddenly painful. The memory ripped through him like fire, all the pain of the last two years forcing him to his knees. He shut his eyes against the pain of that smile.
~Murderer...~
"Nani?" Ran jumped at the whisper, flowing silently down his spine in a gust of cool air, making him shiver. And yet it still did nothing to quench the fire in his chest.
~Murderer...~
"Who said that?"
~Don't you know me, Ran?~
That voice...
Ran slowly opened his eyes. He didn't want to but some inexplicable force was drawing him to it. He gasped in horror at the sea of blood beneath him, stretching around him to fill the limits of his vision.
"Aya?"
~Are you talking about her or yourself, Ran?~
"What... what did you do with her? What did you do with Aya?"
~She's right here.~
Another cool gust of air, this time against his ear. He shivered again, feeling the presence of another behind him. Apprehensive, he turned toward the voice.
His eyes met Aya-chan's. Only now they weren't smiling. They gazed blankly from her face, unseeing as her dark hair clung to her forehead, caked with blood. He was unable to move, even as her body fell, sending dark ripples through the crimson sea beneath them both. Helplessly, he watched her sink, unable to move enough to save her.
Desperation overtook him as he watched the pool swallow her and, straining, he reached out his hand to her to keep her from going under.
Just a...
"Niichan..."
...little....
"...help me..."
...further.
"... please."
Ran gave an anguished cry as his fingertips brushed hers, still unable to grasp her even as her fingers, slender and pale like his, slipped beneath the pool, sealing her off from him for good.
"Iie! Aya, don't go!"
~You can't save her. It's all your fault. Murderer.~
" Give her back! Give her back to me! Please..." silent sobs wracked his body as he pleaded with the cold indifferent voice, still reaching out a pale hand to the place where Aya-chan had disappeared.
Ran's eyes widened in shock as a dark figure emerged from the empty space where his sister had been, dark hair caked with sweat, the claws on its left hand covered in blood.
~Your fault, Aya.~
A guttural yell issued from Ran's throat as he stared up into Ken's blood-splattered face, the hollow look in the other boy's eyes mirroring the emptiness in his own heart.
****
END PART 1
.
Author: Xerian Poe
Warnings: Basic spoilers about Aya-chan now, and most likely about the Taketori family later on. Doesn't really stick to the plotline at any specific point. In fact, I'm uncertain when exactly this takes place. Lots of Aya angst, graphic violence, and shounen ai implications of a sort, as well as being extremely dark. Also, This story may -eventually- becoming yaoi. That was actually the original intent, but... well, you can see the results. ^^ Oh, and before you get too far let me warn you that this story is unyet finished, and currently I am uncertain if it will ever -get- finished. I hate to leave anyone hanging, but I just really wanted some feedback on this portion. Hopefully, though, my creative juices will get flowing once again.
And, no, none of these characters or anything Weiss is mine. I just chose to fit them into my twisted imagination at will. ^^
... and, yes, I was in a strange mood when I wrote this. o.O;
******************
"No! Please don't kill me! I'll give you anything you want... anything!"
Desperation. It filled the woman's voice as she cowered in the corner, staring up at Aya with imploring eyes. He could smell the fear on her, mingling with the muskier scent of death from his two previous kills, already beginning their slow decay across the darkened room.
The moonlight glinted off the portions of his blade not already stained with blood, offering the woman the promise of death. A promise which Aya would fulfill with grim efficiency.
They always begged for their lives in the end. This woman's cries were no different than the countless others that he had slain before. Even her eyes shone the same as all of her predecessors, filled with hope of some miracle he was not willing to give, that last desperate attempt to deny fate.
Aya turned the blade of his katana slowly, raising it gracefully above his head. The woman's eyes grew wide, her pleas freezing in her throat as she stared, entranced, realization dawning on her.
Meeting her eyes, Aya drank in her features, committing them all to memory. He made it a habit to memorize his victim's faces thus; at least this way he could identify who it was haunting his dreams. This woman would undoubtedly join the sea of faces already awaiting him in his sleep.
"Shine," he whispered, bringing the katana down in one fluid motion.
The world grew still around him, the only sounds his own racing heartbeat and the quiet *swish* of the blade through the air. Only two people existed in the world right now, the hunter and the hunted, as the moment stretched on into infinity.
Blood. His blade met resistance, breaking the gruesome intimacy of the moment. With one final push Aya tore through flesh and bone, leaving the woman to lay like some demented child's broken toy on the cold marble floors.
Lifeless eyes stared accusingly at him from the crimson halo framing her head. The dark stain beneath her began to grow, standing out in stark contrast to the white floors, even in the darkness of the small office.
Aya took an involuntary step backwards as the puddle grew closer, seeming to seek him out, mocking him. He choked back the feeling of horror rising in his throat, knowing full well that he had stopped crying over them a long time ago.
No one cried for the players in this cruel game of death.
Wiping his katana clean on his jacket, he wondered solemnly if anyone would ever cry for him. A small, humorless sound, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, escaped his throat at the thought.
Of course no one would. In the beginning he had cried himself to sleep after every mission, despite knowing that every life he took deserved to be taken.
Or at least that was his justification.
He had cried for Aya-chan, for his slain parents... even the person that Ran -could- have become.
But not once had he cried for himself... whoever that was.
*****
Aya stared straight ahead, his eyes locked on the empty road before him. The interior of the car was silent as they drove along, except for the dull hum of the air conditioning and the soft sounds of the radio. A woman's soft voice drifted along a sea of bass and acoustic guitar, its low moan somehow rooting their awareness to the present and preventing their thoughts from taking flight into dangerous territory.
Aya let the words drift over him, the simple phrasing of the song fitting his mood, his situation-- fitting everything too well at that moment. Sighing inaudibly, he gripped the steering wheel tighter as the memory of the fear in the woman's eyes moments before his blade tore through her flitted through his mind, mingling with the steady hum issuing from the radio, weaving together to create an oddly alluring whole. It made him marvel at the remorse rising in his chest.
Ironic, how a cold efficient killer could still feel something as trivial as remorse. He had hoped he'd be over that by now.
It was always this way after a mission, each man locked in his own thoughts as they returned from their bloody work. They never spoke, each too busy struggling with his own conscience in order to maintain that precarious hold on sanity they all shared. A new mission, a new sin, a new justification just to keep going.
Aya glanced over at Ken, the other boy's expression hollow as he stared out at the passing streetlight. He shuddered as a shadow passed over the brunette's features, the usually vibrant eyes dark with some unknown emotion.
There was something troubling in Ken's eyes... the emptiness in them was far too much like the emptiness which gazed out at Aya from the mirror every morning. Ken's eyes had never looked so dead before.
Or maybe I just haven't been looking. Aya fought to keep his attention on the road, feeling the desire to stare into those azure eyes, if for no other reason than to reassure himself that that emptiness he'd seen within them had been a dream, a mere momentary reflection of the his own emptiness onto Ken.
Ken was different. Despite his quick temper and seeming disillusionment in the world Ken wasn't a killer deep down. In these past months working with him Aya had realized just how different Ken was from himself or Youji... or even Omi, in that respect. Ken still believed that Weiss were the good guys, that what he was doing was right. The rest of them professed as much on the surface, but deep down they had all come to the realization that, justifications aside, they had nowhere else to go in the world. They were stuck, for better or worse.
And it shone in their eyes. Aya's most of all. His mother had always told him that you could read his soul through his eyes.
Perhaps she was right after all.
Ken... was the same way. Despite their seeming differences, Ken was more like Aya than even Aya himself cared to acknowledge. The only difference was Ken was either foolish enough or courageous enough to let the emotions swirling inside of him out.
But lately....
Stop thinking about it. Don't ask questions. Because asking means you care about their answers.
He couldn't let himself care about Ken or Omi or Youji or... anyone. All his emotions were dead, scattered across the rain soaked pavement on that long ago night. He was Aya now, carrying the name of the last person he had let himself care for, perhaps only to remind himself where that caring had gotten him.
His heart rested alongside her in that cold hospital bed. He wondered if she would ever let him reclaim it.
Aya sighed quietly, reaching over to switch off the radio as he chased the thoughts from his mind. Brooding like this never did any good anyway. It didn't change the past or what he'd become.
Turning the car down the last of the many dark streets they had traveled that night, he searched for a faint glimmering. He found it, the small lamp shining through the window of their apartment above the Koneko like a beacon.
****
Aya turned in bed, the sweat soaked sheets twisting themselves around his body. He cried out softly in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering as his eyes danced to the images in his mind.
He had grown to loathe sleep and the visions that accompanied it. Faces of those he'd killed, floating in an endless sea of blood, visions of death... memories of the shattered life that had led him down this path.
Rolling over onto his back, eyelashes fluttering slightly against his cheeks, a soft sob escaped his lips.
"Aya...."
****
"Niichan! Guess what today is?" Aya-chan smiled mischievously at her older brother as she flitted from one end of the kitchen to the next.
Aya? Ran swiveled around searching for the source of the voice. Glancing around he realised he stood in the warm interior of his parent's kitchen, early morning sunlight streaming through the windows, bathing the room in a comforting glow.
Aya-chan stood with her back to him, grinning secretively to herself as she dropped bread into the toaster.
Aya... but how? This is... this is my home. And today is... Today is...
"Thursday?" Ran moved around his sister to the cabinet, grabbing the dishes and setting the table for breakfast, following the same motions as he had the first time he had lived this memory. He wanted to say something different... to tell her he loved her.
To warn her...
Tonight is... He pushed back the thought and just let the dream drift over him, losing himself in Aya-chan's presence. Even if it was only a dream he just wanted to see her... just this once. To talk to her again. To hear her laugh.
For now he would lie to himself. After all, what was one small lie on top of a mountain of sin?
"Niichan!" Aya-chan stomped her foot on the kitchen floor in mock appall, "Don't tell me you forgot!"
"What? Today isn't Thursday?" he raised his eyebrow in feigned surprise.
This is how it was before... this is how it was to be Ran. It surprised him how easily the old motions came to him, how effortlessly he could fall back into the role of the shy, slightly overprotective older brother.
"You know what I mean!"
"Let's see, today is... wait, wait, don't tell me. I know there was something going on today." He absently tapped his finger against his forehead as if in deep thought. "Well, it's not Christmas. Wait! I remember... you have that dentist appointment that I have to take you to, right?"
Aya-chan rolled her eyes and smiled at him as she popped a few more pieces of bread into the toaster. "Ran, you know what I mean!"
"Oh, so it's Ran and not niichan now, huh?" He finished arranging the silverware on the table and joined her at the counter. "Well, even if I've been down-graded I guess it's still my duty as brother to wish you a happy birthday."
Aya-chan turned to smile at him again, "That's right... and you know what that means!"
Ran leaned casually against the counter, looking around innocently, "And what exactly is that?"
"Niichan! No more kidding! You promised me that you would take me to the festival tonight. And don't try to get out of it, because I've already devised a strategy for revenge if you do." She motioned threateningly with the butter knife she was holding.
The festival. That was it.
Tonight is... he couldn't bring himself to say it, even in his dream. She was so happy... so full of life. If he didn't say it, it wouldn't come true. They wouldn't return to find their parents dead and that car wouldn't...
He looked away, the sight of her smiling obliviously at him suddenly painful. The memory ripped through him like fire, all the pain of the last two years forcing him to his knees. He shut his eyes against the pain of that smile.
~Murderer...~
"Nani?" Ran jumped at the whisper, flowing silently down his spine in a gust of cool air, making him shiver. And yet it still did nothing to quench the fire in his chest.
~Murderer...~
"Who said that?"
~Don't you know me, Ran?~
That voice...
Ran slowly opened his eyes. He didn't want to but some inexplicable force was drawing him to it. He gasped in horror at the sea of blood beneath him, stretching around him to fill the limits of his vision.
"Aya?"
~Are you talking about her or yourself, Ran?~
"What... what did you do with her? What did you do with Aya?"
~She's right here.~
Another cool gust of air, this time against his ear. He shivered again, feeling the presence of another behind him. Apprehensive, he turned toward the voice.
His eyes met Aya-chan's. Only now they weren't smiling. They gazed blankly from her face, unseeing as her dark hair clung to her forehead, caked with blood. He was unable to move, even as her body fell, sending dark ripples through the crimson sea beneath them both. Helplessly, he watched her sink, unable to move enough to save her.
Desperation overtook him as he watched the pool swallow her and, straining, he reached out his hand to her to keep her from going under.
Just a...
"Niichan..."
...little....
"...help me..."
...further.
"... please."
Ran gave an anguished cry as his fingertips brushed hers, still unable to grasp her even as her fingers, slender and pale like his, slipped beneath the pool, sealing her off from him for good.
"Iie! Aya, don't go!"
~You can't save her. It's all your fault. Murderer.~
" Give her back! Give her back to me! Please..." silent sobs wracked his body as he pleaded with the cold indifferent voice, still reaching out a pale hand to the place where Aya-chan had disappeared.
Ran's eyes widened in shock as a dark figure emerged from the empty space where his sister had been, dark hair caked with sweat, the claws on its left hand covered in blood.
~Your fault, Aya.~
A guttural yell issued from Ran's throat as he stared up into Ken's blood-splattered face, the hollow look in the other boy's eyes mirroring the emptiness in his own heart.
****
END PART 1
.