Ran sat on Ken's bed; an amused smile crossed his otherwise emotionless face as he glanced over the highlighted portions in the old and worn bible. It was humorous that Ken would turn to an arbitrary set of rules that would only condemn him. Maybe it was guilt this thing had given him that made him act so oddly. Or, it was his seeming obsession with a fellow teammate. The teammate that wasn't him. Aya's thought's paused as he found a particularly amusing passage that had been highlighted. Also, the spine was bent to open up to this particular page. Ken must have a certain fondness for the prophet's ramblings.
Seek good and not evil,
that you may live;
Aya read those lines, snickering. 'What good would it do to seek good, if your life was to destroy evil? Wouldn't it still be a sin to kill? Or does this exclude you because you're 'seeking good'?' He continued to read.
and so the Lord , the God of
hosts, will be with you,
just as you have said.
'Said? When did I say anything? This was amusing. And what does 'the God of hosts' have to do with anything? Or was it not supposed to be taken literally?' He smirked, 'this is entertaining'. If it had been Yoji with such a book he would've assumed it was for humor. But, sadly, he had a feeling Ken believed this shit.
Hate evil and love good,
and establish justice in the
gate;
'This part makes more sense. Hate Takatori, and love Aya-chan, and establish justice...'in the gate'?' He heard the door open, and he set the book down. Ran Fujimiya looked up to see Ken, his teammate, wearing a towel, and nothing else, his dreams come true. He fought, and succeeded to hide his blush.
Ken looked almost uncomprehendingly at his leader, sitting on his bed, and reading his bible. Aya's face was as cold and demanding as always. The handsome ex-soccer player closed the door, and Aya waited for Ken to settle himself. The silence hung thickly, filled with curiosity and tension. Ken ruffled around, sliding a robe on, turning a light pink. Aya wished Ken were more comfortable around him. But, if his observations were right, Ken didn't want to be comfortable around him, only Yoji. The silence was killing him.
"Ken-"
"Aya-" Ken broke off and laughed a bit. "You go first."
"Ken," Aya began again, he loved the way Ken said his name. "Your performance on the missions and in the shop has been lacking." Aya paused as Ken nodded, obviously unsure of where this conversation was going, even though it should be as plain. "You're in love with Yoji, aren't you?"
Aya cursed his bluntness, and sorely wished he could change the words to, "Ken, you're in love with me, and I love you," then kiss Ken passionately, and let one thing lead to another, until they were both exhausted on the bed, in each other's arms. Letting Yoji remain out of mind and out of sight, and in the past. But, that wasn't happening, because this handsome teammate of his didn't love him. And, probably never would.
"Ah-uhh... Shit." Aya watched Siberian squirm. "A...am I that obvious?" Ken had turned crimson, uncomfortable, and started wishing he had been alone after his shower.
"No." Aya stood up, wanting to weep like a broken-hearted schoolgirl.
"But, do something about it before your obsession starts getting in the way." Aya's tone was cold and bitter, hiding the jealousy and heartache behind the façade.
Ken nodded, and asked Aya in a plaintive, childish voice, "Please, don't tell him. I...I'll tell him when I'm ready." Aya had his hand on the knob.
"Fine, just don't screw up. Whether you love Yoji or not, you're still Weiss." And with that Aya took his leave. He went across the hall to his own room, each step heavy and dead. How could he be so cruel, to the one he loved the most after Aya-chan. He was amazed his feelings could run so deep for someone who wasn't his imoutochan.
"Shion, you prepared me to kill. You prepared me to be part of Weiss. But... Why didn't you prepare me for this?!" He whispered into the darkness. He closed the door behind him, tears falling down his face in a fierce river of salt and pain. He walked to his bed, and knelt by it.
"Aya-chan, I hope you never experience this. For your sake." His sister was there, always on his mind. He buried his head in the comforter. This wasn't happening. No. It was. All he wanted now was a pair of comforting arms, the arms of the dead.
This wouldn't do. Ran shook his head fiercely, and stood up. Why was he indulging in this emotion? Why was he letting one person touch him so deeply? 'Because I'm in love, whispered a tiny voice. 'Because I would lay down my life for Ken, and love him until the last ...' Aya was puzzled, and baffled. 'until our last breath? Until there is no tomorrow? No.' came a bitter thought, 'those are to cliché. Who would profane such love with so many clichés?' He reached for his journal, then in his neat, perfectionist handwriting:
Until there is nothing left to love.
The period added a certain amount of finality. In those lines, Aya found consolation. Ken may love Yoji, but if Ken opened his eyes, there would always be an open door, with loving arms, and a redhead to stubborn to give up on what was lost.
With that, Ran picked up his robe, and went to take his shower, for he was absolutely filthy. And no one should see a tear stained Aya, roaming the halls, still in his dirty outfit and smelling of sweat, blood, and cowardice. That would show to much, and upset the group more than they needed to be. When he was clean, then he would tell Ken that his door was open. Though, in a deep corner of his heart, he knew he'd never be clean enough.
Seek good and not evil,
that you may live;
Aya read those lines, snickering. 'What good would it do to seek good, if your life was to destroy evil? Wouldn't it still be a sin to kill? Or does this exclude you because you're 'seeking good'?' He continued to read.
and so the Lord , the God of
hosts, will be with you,
just as you have said.
'Said? When did I say anything? This was amusing. And what does 'the God of hosts' have to do with anything? Or was it not supposed to be taken literally?' He smirked, 'this is entertaining'. If it had been Yoji with such a book he would've assumed it was for humor. But, sadly, he had a feeling Ken believed this shit.
Hate evil and love good,
and establish justice in the
gate;
'This part makes more sense. Hate Takatori, and love Aya-chan, and establish justice...'in the gate'?' He heard the door open, and he set the book down. Ran Fujimiya looked up to see Ken, his teammate, wearing a towel, and nothing else, his dreams come true. He fought, and succeeded to hide his blush.
Ken looked almost uncomprehendingly at his leader, sitting on his bed, and reading his bible. Aya's face was as cold and demanding as always. The handsome ex-soccer player closed the door, and Aya waited for Ken to settle himself. The silence hung thickly, filled with curiosity and tension. Ken ruffled around, sliding a robe on, turning a light pink. Aya wished Ken were more comfortable around him. But, if his observations were right, Ken didn't want to be comfortable around him, only Yoji. The silence was killing him.
"Ken-"
"Aya-" Ken broke off and laughed a bit. "You go first."
"Ken," Aya began again, he loved the way Ken said his name. "Your performance on the missions and in the shop has been lacking." Aya paused as Ken nodded, obviously unsure of where this conversation was going, even though it should be as plain. "You're in love with Yoji, aren't you?"
Aya cursed his bluntness, and sorely wished he could change the words to, "Ken, you're in love with me, and I love you," then kiss Ken passionately, and let one thing lead to another, until they were both exhausted on the bed, in each other's arms. Letting Yoji remain out of mind and out of sight, and in the past. But, that wasn't happening, because this handsome teammate of his didn't love him. And, probably never would.
"Ah-uhh... Shit." Aya watched Siberian squirm. "A...am I that obvious?" Ken had turned crimson, uncomfortable, and started wishing he had been alone after his shower.
"No." Aya stood up, wanting to weep like a broken-hearted schoolgirl.
"But, do something about it before your obsession starts getting in the way." Aya's tone was cold and bitter, hiding the jealousy and heartache behind the façade.
Ken nodded, and asked Aya in a plaintive, childish voice, "Please, don't tell him. I...I'll tell him when I'm ready." Aya had his hand on the knob.
"Fine, just don't screw up. Whether you love Yoji or not, you're still Weiss." And with that Aya took his leave. He went across the hall to his own room, each step heavy and dead. How could he be so cruel, to the one he loved the most after Aya-chan. He was amazed his feelings could run so deep for someone who wasn't his imoutochan.
"Shion, you prepared me to kill. You prepared me to be part of Weiss. But... Why didn't you prepare me for this?!" He whispered into the darkness. He closed the door behind him, tears falling down his face in a fierce river of salt and pain. He walked to his bed, and knelt by it.
"Aya-chan, I hope you never experience this. For your sake." His sister was there, always on his mind. He buried his head in the comforter. This wasn't happening. No. It was. All he wanted now was a pair of comforting arms, the arms of the dead.
This wouldn't do. Ran shook his head fiercely, and stood up. Why was he indulging in this emotion? Why was he letting one person touch him so deeply? 'Because I'm in love, whispered a tiny voice. 'Because I would lay down my life for Ken, and love him until the last ...' Aya was puzzled, and baffled. 'until our last breath? Until there is no tomorrow? No.' came a bitter thought, 'those are to cliché. Who would profane such love with so many clichés?' He reached for his journal, then in his neat, perfectionist handwriting:
Until there is nothing left to love.
The period added a certain amount of finality. In those lines, Aya found consolation. Ken may love Yoji, but if Ken opened his eyes, there would always be an open door, with loving arms, and a redhead to stubborn to give up on what was lost.
With that, Ran picked up his robe, and went to take his shower, for he was absolutely filthy. And no one should see a tear stained Aya, roaming the halls, still in his dirty outfit and smelling of sweat, blood, and cowardice. That would show to much, and upset the group more than they needed to be. When he was clean, then he would tell Ken that his door was open. Though, in a deep corner of his heart, he knew he'd never be clean enough.