Mit tränen im Gesicht - With Tears on Your Face
Asche Lorenz-
Aya rocked slowly back and fourth in the old rocking chair that sat in front of the window. The moonlight was non-existent that night and the few stars that were usually out were hidden behind the invisible black rain clouds that hovered in the dark sky. Everyone had long since gone to bed, leaving Aya sitting like a porcelain doll, alone and broken in the dark.
The mission had been taxing and Aya was not the only one who felt it. The normally jubilant Omi had been unusually silent since he discovered the three dead bodies of victims hung disemboweled and rotting, in an office closet. Ken too had been silent, understandably so, after untying the bodies from the coat rack on which they hung. Not one of the four assassins were sure who the victims had been, by the time they were laying peacefully on the ground it was impossible to tell what was an arm from a leg much less to tell apart gender.
Youji had been the one to gain their revenge, his wire pulled taut enough around the head of the monster who created this massacre, to separate it from the body. It was missions like these which broke down the four killers, brining them to their knees with tears in their eyes and pleas for forgiveness. And on these nights, the only thing that kept the quiet red-head going, was the silent rocking in the chair he now sat in, searching the heavens for the stars he knew would not be there.
He found strength in the silence, and isolation, but sometimes he wondered if it was really strength and not weakness. These nights he never slept and his heart bled. Maybe tonight would be different. A lanky figure stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame watching him. Aya didn't notice Youji for what could have been hours or minutes, but when he found the older man, he met his empty gaze evenly.
Things between them were already very gray, but in the darkness perhaps that didn't matter. Youji stepped forward and lit a cigarette, the red tip glowing in the blackness. "What is wrong?" Aya finally managed to ask, though the question was redundant and he already knew the answer.
"Nothing." Youji puffed on his cigarette again, the tip glowing brighter till he pulled it away. "What's wrong with you?" He asked tightly, before letting the smoke out of his lungs. Aya replied the same.
"Nothing."
"If Nothing is wrong," Youji took another puff. "Then why are you sitting here in the dark?" He exhaled.
"If nothing is wrong with you, why are you crying?" Aya spit back, turning his head away and curling into himself as a cold chill passed. He had taken off his coat and now sat in a sweat soaked tunic and worn black pants. Youji stepped closer until he stood before Aya, the tears that he had been accused of glittering on his cheeks.
"Why, Aya?" Aya knew that Youji wasn't talking about the rhetorical questions they threw back and fourth. Aya didn't speak but his eyes said everything. Youji kneeled down in front of him and leaned against the rocking chair, resting his head against Aya's knee. Closing his eyes against the flow of tears he sighed and took the final puff on his cigarette before putting it out on the wooden floor. Only tonight could he get away with such a gesture in front of the younger man.
Aya looked again towards the sky, back to the useless task of star searching and finally closed his own eyes against it all. Rolling back onto his bare heels he began to rock the old chair back and fourth and slowly, almost unconsciously he wrapped a stray arm around Youji's shoulders. Perhaps they both needed a little comfort tonight, and without each other they wouldn't have found what they were looking for.