There are probably more than a few...inaccuracies in this ficcie, and if any characters are OOC, just remember this is my take on things, and my worldview is already pretty much skewed...>_ (that, and I've only seen two episodes)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Weiß Kreuz related that would result in my
being sued - the same can be said about the song "Feels Like
Home", performed by Chantal Kreviazuk from the Dawson's Creek
Soundtrack.
Feedback, onegai! ^_^
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Something in your eyes makes me want
to lose myself
Makes me want to lose myself
In your arms
There's something in your voice makes my
heart beat fast
Hope this feeling lasts
The rest of my life
~Feels Like Home~
Tilting his head to the side, Omi closed his eyes and let the night breeze caress his face, drying the tears that had tracked down the flawless skin. Overhead, the moon hung bright and full, casting silvery brilliance upon the world.
"Omi?"
The soft whisper reached him, and a small smile stole across his lips. That voice never failed to get through to him, even in his darker hours. Opening his eyes, Omi turned to see Yohji standing behind him uncertainly, concern evident in his expression.
"Yohji-kun. Join me?" He invited, gesturing at a spot beside him with a sweep of his arm.
Frowning, Yohji ran a hand through his wind-tossed hair, and wondering if maybe the younger assassin might be missing a marble or two.
"Omi...it's freezing out here."
Blinking as if that fact had gone unnoticed by him, Omi regarded Yohji curiously.
"Is it? I hadn't noticed. It's a beautiful night, don't you think?" He said, turning back to gaze at the city skyline.
Moving to stand beside him, Yohji cast his teammate a worried glance before leaning against the railing. He had to admit that despite the cold it
was a beautiful night.
"It's nice to be able to do this, ne Yohji-kun?" Omi said quietly, "Just watching the lights."
Smiling, Yohji nodded. "Hai, it is."
"Ne, Yohji-kun...where's home for you?"
Startled, Yohji looked over to see the younger assassin staring fixedly at the view, his jaw clenched.
"I...you...why are you asking me this now, Omi? You've never asked before."
Not to mention, it's a major taboo for people like us... He thought grimly, studying the smaller blonde's profile intently.
So what could be bothering you enough to break it?
Shaking his head, Omi's clenched his hands, still not looking at the older man.
"Please, Yohji-kun. Just answer the question. It's...important to me."
Frowning, Yohji reached up to push his sunglasses higher up on his nose, when he remembered that he'd left them in his room. He hadn't thought he'd need them when he first set out to find Omi. Now he was desperately wishing he
had brought them, if only because they gave him something to fiddle with.
"I haven't given it much thought, really. I always just assumed home was wherever I happened to be at the time." He said, staring down at his feet, forehead furrowed in thought, "But it's not. Not really, anyhow. It's kind of hard to explain, but I've never really felt at home anywhere."
Before now.
"Oh."
Looking up at the younger assassin, Yohji's eyes narrowed in sudden understanding. He cursed himself for not figuring it out earlier - after all, this was Omi he was talking to. Trained assassin/florist though he may be, he was still a teenager. And that meant he had all the doubts, fears, and insecurities that went with it.
"What about you, Omi? Where's home for you?"
The smaller blonde flinched, as though Yohji's words had hurt him somehow.
"I don't think I have a home, Yohji-kun. If I ever did, I don't think I could go back there."
I wouldn't want you to.
"No one can, Omi. It's like they say - you can never go home. You change too much to feel like you belong there anymore. That's why you have to make a new home when you find where you belong."
I've found mine, Omi. Have you found yours? He thought, turning to leave, sensing that the younger blonde needed time alone.
Omi watched him go, wondering why he felt as though Yohji were taking a part of him with him as he went.
*************************
"Oi, Omi! Look alive, ne? We've got customers!"
Grumbling to himself as he slipped his apron on over his work clothes, Omi flashed Ken one of his plastic smiles. He was quite proud of it, only people who knew him could tell the difference between it and one of his real smiles. It did wonders for his temper while working in the flower shop. And it was the only one he was capable of after having spent a long night thinking.
Turning to face the crowd of teenage girls, all grinning brightly and with an almost predatory look in their eyes, Omi knew it was going to be 'one of those days.' Sighing, he paused to make sure his fake smile was in place before wading out into the sea of hormone-crazed girls.
*****************************
"Thank goodness that's over. Ne, Omi?"
Sighing, Omi nodded wearily in agreement. It had been a grueling day; and if he heard anyone making a crack about how easy he had it working in a flower shop...well, he wasn't going to be held responsible for his actions.
"Oh, I don't know, Ken-kun. That brunette really seemed to like you - did you get her number?"
"Omi!"
"Hm?"
Laughing, Ken shook his head and went back to sweeping up, the blush on his cheeks fading a little. Smiling to himself, Omi went back to counting up the receipts, his head bowed over the little pile of slips, and feeling strangely content.
And then the bell over the door jingled. Looking up, Omi's greeting died on his lips as he caught sight of the woman standing there.
Manx.
*************
Reaching back to scratch an itch that he knew wasn't there, Omi watched the information scroll down the computer screen. Sitting with his back to the only door in or out of the cramped office was doing his nerves no good.
Actually, if he wanted to be honest, the entire mission wasn't doing his nerves any good. The fact that it was supposed to be an 'easy' mission - simple data retrieval - gave him a bad feeling. Things were never simple or easy when something like
this was involved.
Biting his lip out of nervous habit, Omi glanced up when a dark flicker passed over the desk where he was downloading vital information. It wasn't enough that he was in a bad position in the office, but Yohji was his only backup if anything went wrong. Not that he thought Yohji wasn't capable; it was just that he didn't like the whole situation. With something so vital as this, the others should have been part of the mission. They couldn't afford to fail with this one.
Starting as the computer gave a quiet beep, signaling that the download was complete, Omi smiled sheepishly at himself. He was just being paranoid - they'd gone over the mission information and made plans for any sort of problems that might crop up. If anything did happen, the two of them would be able to take care of it. They were trained assassins after all.
Removing the disk from the hard drive, Omi crept to the door, pressing his ear against it to check if it was safe to enter the hallway beyond. When he was met with only silence, he allowed himself a small smile before reaching for the door handle. Opening it a crack, he waited a moment before slipping out of the tiny office, data disk safe in his pocket.
Glancing up and down the hallway, Omi was relieved, and somewhat puzzled to see that it was eerily empty. The files they'd been given had reported that several security guards patrolled this section of the building...
"Balinese, I've got the disk. Let's get out of here." He whispered, keying his headset as he made his way through the darkened hall.
He'd actually gone some distance before he realized that the other assassin hadn't acknowledged him. Frowning, Omi pushed the gnawing sense of dread back down with an effort. Crouching in the shadows across from their exit, he keyed his headset again.
"Balinese? Can you read me? Balinese?"
Omi's fear grew with each passing moment that Yohji didn't respond. He was frozen with indecision - continue with the mission as planned and hope that it was just equipment failure, or go look for the older assassin. Duty demanded the former, friendship the latter...but which one should he act on?
"Look what I found. Are you lost, little boy?"
Hissing softly between his teeth as he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being drawn from its holster, Omi slowly got to his feet and turned to face the speaker. He felt a flash of annoyance that he'd allowed himself to be caught so easily, which was immediately forgotten in favor of his fear for Yohji.
"If you are lost that's too bad, because I don't do charity work."
Tamping down the irritation he felt at the security guard's idea of conversation, Omi discreetly positioned one of his darts in his hand. Raising his hands over his head at a sharp gesture form the security guard, Omi tensed himself to throw, when gunshots rang out.
Flinching at the unexpected sound, Omi was quick to realize the sound had come from deeper in the building, which meant that Yohji had to be the cause of it - or so he hoped. Not wasting the precious distraction, Omi released his dart with his usual lethal accuracy. The guard uttered a strangled gurgle before toppling over, Omi's dart in his throat.
Stepping over the body, the blonde assassin paused only long enough to grab the gun. He had barely taken a step towards the end of the hall when he was grabbed from behind and slammed against the wall. His head connected solidly with the wall, and as he slid to his knees, his vision went black at the edges.
He caught a glimpse of shiny black shoes and dark blue pant legs before his world went mercifully dark. His last thoughts were filled with despair and guilt for having failed the mission - and Yohji.
Yohji...I'm sorry.
*****************************
The first thing that he saw when he came to was the smooth, expanse of the ceiling in his bedroom. Blinking in confusion, Omi tried to piece together the reason why he would be lying there
now, when he had just been on a mission...
Frowning, his winced as pain lanced through his head and body, and the memories slowly formed together in his mind. Blue eyes widened in shock, and he bolted upright, Yohji's name caught in his throat.
He gave a little cry of pain as sparks erupted behind his eyes, pain flaring through him at the abrupt movement. A hand on his shoulder gently pushed him back until he was lying down, gasping for breath through the surges of pain.
"Omi?"
The soft voice broke through the agony raging in his head long enough for him to recognize it. Cracking open one eye, Omi looked up to see Aya watching him with something very much like concern in his eyes.
"Aya-kun? What happened? Where's Yohji-kun?"
It must have been a trick of the light, but Omi thought he saw the redhead's expression soften, the lips turn up a little at the corner.
"Yohji's fine, Omi. And the mission was successful." Aya said, unwilling to say more at the moment.
There were two reasons for that, the first was that Omi was injured and needed to rest; the second was because he himself did not know all of the details. After Yohji had pulled up, tires screeching his arms laden with an unconscious Omi, the older blonde had been sick with worry and not very coherent. He was with Ken now, and Aya trusted the brunette to calm the older man's nerves.
He was about to say more, when he saw that Omi had fallen asleep, a relieved smile on his face. Reaching down to smooth Omi's bangs from his eyes, Aya wondered at the tight feeling in his chest. Shaking his head, he shrugged it off as he turned towards the door. It was understandable to be worried about a teammate in a situation like this. That was all, a normal reaction to seeing one of his comrade's hurt. Nothing more.
*****************************
A few nights later found Omi back at his favorite spot to watch the city, though he had a few more bruises than the last time he'd come up there. The full moon was waning, and Omi couldn't help but feel somewhat wistful about it. There was just something about the full moon that called to him, eased the burdens on his heart.
He'd been doing a lot of thinking the last few days, and he thought he'd finally some to terms with who he was, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was still missing. That there was something important he was leaving out.
"Thought I'd find you here. Don't you ever get cold?"
Smiling, Omi glanced over his shoulder to see Yohji standing there, sunglasses perched on his nose.
"It's nice out, Yohji-kun. I like it."
Snorting gently, Yohji shook his head as he walked over to the smaller blonde.
"I think you're nuts, but that's just me."
"Ne, Yohji-kun? What do you think makes someplace home?"
Blinking slowly at the question, Yohji turned it over in his mind, aware of the pair of bright blue eyes that were focused intently on him. He had a feeling he knew where Omi was going this time, and he knew he had to be careful with his answer. It was a fine art of reading people, and Yohji liked to think he was fairly good at it, but Omi was one of the very few who could ever throw him for a loop.
"Lots of things, really. It takes different things for different people." He replied, stalling for time as he tried to find the right answer. "But, for me, I guess I'd have to say it's wherever I feel like I belong. Where I have family - even if they aren't related to me by blood."
Silence hung between them as Omi processed his words, and Yohji mentally kicked himself for having spoken them. Just because he was desperately afraid of losing Omi didn't mean he had the right to mess up their friendship over it...
"You really think of us as family, Yohji-kun?"
Startled by the question, Yohji looked down to see the sadness in Omi's eyes.
Damn, damn, damn...why did I have to say that? I'm sorry Omi. I shouldn't have said
anything...
Swallowing nervously, Yohji forced himself to meet, and hold Omi's eyes with his own.
"Hai. I do."
Omi ducked his head, honey-gold hair sliding forward to hide his face from Yohji.
"I've never really had a family before, Yohji-kun."
Smiling to him, Yohji knew there was one thing he could do that wouldn't be a mistake.
Turning to face Omi, he reached down, cupping his chin on his hand and gently lifting his head until he was looking into Omi's eyes. Leaning down until their foreheads touched, Yohji smiled, breathing in the younger blonde's scent.
"You do now, Omi."
Throwing all of his misgivings away, for the first time in a long time, Yohji listened to what his heart had to say as he pressed his lips against Omi's. He was about to pull away when he felt Omi's arms go around his neck, pulling him closer.
"I think I'm home now, Yohji-kun."