Note1: Big thanks to Lady Vorgunby (my ex-roommate and beta-reader) for lending me her bunny for this chapter. All of mine
are permanently on vacation! I hope you all are enjoying my little story, and, as always, comments and criticisms fuel the
flames of creation.
Chapter Three: Letting Go
Beep
Beep
Beep
Beep
He sat at his sister's bedside, listening to the machines monitor her heart. The IV dripped steadily into her arm. She looked as she always did, but he could feel something was wrong. Something was going to happen. He felt dread rise up bitter in his throat.
The beeping stopped, and Aya screamed. He knew she was going to die when the beeping stopped.
~*~*~*~
Youji turned off his alarm and stretched his long muscular body as he rose. He yawned, looking at the clock through bleary eyes. "Shit," he said, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Aya's gonna kill me for being late."
He could hear someone's alarm still sounding in the apartment. Youji wandered out into the living to see where the sound was coming from. "What?" His forehead wrinkled in confusion. He walked to Aya's room and softly rapped on the door. "Aya?" Getting no answer, he slowly pushed the door open.
Aya was tangled in the sheets so much he couldn't move. Sweat beaded his forehead and his fingers clenched the pillow in a death grip.
"Aya, wake up," Youji coaxed, shaking his friend. Aya didn't respond. The beeping was starting to become annoying, so with one hand still on Aya's shoulder, Youji reached over to the alarm and turned it off.
Aya screamed.
"Shit!" Youji stumbled backwards as Aya sat up.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I heard your alarm beeping, so . . ." Youji trailed off, uncertain of what to say.
Aya still had his head lowered so Youji couldn't see his face. "Get out."
"Aya-"
"Get out!"
Youji gave him one last glance before slamming the door. Aya sat on his bed, his head in his hands, shaking. It was just a dream. It was just a dream, he chanted to himself.
"Just a dream, my ass," he snarled to himself. He swung his legs over the edge and stood up in one swift movement. He had to go to the hospital. He had to make sure she was all right.
She was there, of course. Sleeping peacefully. Or at least he liked to think of it as sleeping. He took her hand and sat staring at her face.
"Aya-chan," he finally said, "forgive me. I can't see you again until I leave Weiss." He bowed his head to gather strength and stood up.
"Goodbye," he whispered.
He didn't look back.
~*~*~*~
It was late when he turned heavy footsteps toward the shop. He had walked around Tokyo all day, visiting the places his sister loved. Had loved. He was saying goodbye, letting go. He had just cut his last tie to the living world. Now he truly was a white hunter of the night, hiding in shadows, existing only in dreams.
The setting sun illuminated the buildings, giving them a dusky orange tint. The few people who were walking the streets passed by Aya without a glance. He was good at being invisible.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the scuffle in the alley he was passing. A nudge from his assassin's sense warned him, and he looked sharply into the darkness.
Five or six burly men surrounded what looked to be a woman in a martial arts uniform. Her back was to the chain link fence, and he could see the fear in her eyes as she defended the blows. She seemed to be holding her own. Aya wondered if he should get involved.
He was just about to turn away when one of the men scored a lucky hit to the side of her head. She dropped to the ground, unconscious. Aya hesitated. What were they going to do?
When the men began arguing among themselves about who was going to "go first," it became clear. Aya pursed his lips in a tight, thin line and strode toward them purposefully.
"I would recommend that you leave." His voice rang out cold and clear.
The man who seemed to be the leader froze and turned slowly to face him. "Who the hell are you?"
Aya cracked his knuckles. "Weiss." Without warning, he lunged at the man. It had been a while since he had fought hand to hand, but his body remembered the training, even if his mind did not. He danced in and out of them like a boxer, jabbing in unexpected places, playing with them. Then one in a leather jacket studded with spikes pulled out a gun.
"Shit." Aya punched the guy closest to him in the face and assessed his options. Taking a chance, he turned his back on the gun, slung the girl over his shoulder, and vaulted the fence. A white-hot pain shot through his other shoulder and his right high almost at the same time. He dodged around a corner, ducking and weaving until he was sure that he had lost them.
He shifted the girl on his shoulder and gritted his teeth at the pain in his leg. The bullet had only grazed his shoulder, but he was bleeding all over the place. If the goons wanted to trail him, they could. He had faith in his teammates. He just had to get to them first.
Chapter Three: Letting Go
Beep
Beep
Beep
Beep
He sat at his sister's bedside, listening to the machines monitor her heart. The IV dripped steadily into her arm. She looked as she always did, but he could feel something was wrong. Something was going to happen. He felt dread rise up bitter in his throat.
The beeping stopped, and Aya screamed. He knew she was going to die when the beeping stopped.
Youji turned off his alarm and stretched his long muscular body as he rose. He yawned, looking at the clock through bleary eyes. "Shit," he said, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Aya's gonna kill me for being late."
He could hear someone's alarm still sounding in the apartment. Youji wandered out into the living to see where the sound was coming from. "What?" His forehead wrinkled in confusion. He walked to Aya's room and softly rapped on the door. "Aya?" Getting no answer, he slowly pushed the door open.
Aya was tangled in the sheets so much he couldn't move. Sweat beaded his forehead and his fingers clenched the pillow in a death grip.
"Aya, wake up," Youji coaxed, shaking his friend. Aya didn't respond. The beeping was starting to become annoying, so with one hand still on Aya's shoulder, Youji reached over to the alarm and turned it off.
Aya screamed.
"Shit!" Youji stumbled backwards as Aya sat up.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I heard your alarm beeping, so . . ." Youji trailed off, uncertain of what to say.
Aya still had his head lowered so Youji couldn't see his face. "Get out."
"Aya-"
"Get out!"
Youji gave him one last glance before slamming the door. Aya sat on his bed, his head in his hands, shaking. It was just a dream. It was just a dream, he chanted to himself.
"Just a dream, my ass," he snarled to himself. He swung his legs over the edge and stood up in one swift movement. He had to go to the hospital. He had to make sure she was all right.
She was there, of course. Sleeping peacefully. Or at least he liked to think of it as sleeping. He took her hand and sat staring at her face.
"Aya-chan," he finally said, "forgive me. I can't see you again until I leave Weiss." He bowed his head to gather strength and stood up.
"Goodbye," he whispered.
He didn't look back.
It was late when he turned heavy footsteps toward the shop. He had walked around Tokyo all day, visiting the places his sister loved. Had loved. He was saying goodbye, letting go. He had just cut his last tie to the living world. Now he truly was a white hunter of the night, hiding in shadows, existing only in dreams.
The setting sun illuminated the buildings, giving them a dusky orange tint. The few people who were walking the streets passed by Aya without a glance. He was good at being invisible.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the scuffle in the alley he was passing. A nudge from his assassin's sense warned him, and he looked sharply into the darkness.
Five or six burly men surrounded what looked to be a woman in a martial arts uniform. Her back was to the chain link fence, and he could see the fear in her eyes as she defended the blows. She seemed to be holding her own. Aya wondered if he should get involved.
He was just about to turn away when one of the men scored a lucky hit to the side of her head. She dropped to the ground, unconscious. Aya hesitated. What were they going to do?
When the men began arguing among themselves about who was going to "go first," it became clear. Aya pursed his lips in a tight, thin line and strode toward them purposefully.
"I would recommend that you leave." His voice rang out cold and clear.
The man who seemed to be the leader froze and turned slowly to face him. "Who the hell are you?"
Aya cracked his knuckles. "Weiss." Without warning, he lunged at the man. It had been a while since he had fought hand to hand, but his body remembered the training, even if his mind did not. He danced in and out of them like a boxer, jabbing in unexpected places, playing with them. Then one in a leather jacket studded with spikes pulled out a gun.
"Shit." Aya punched the guy closest to him in the face and assessed his options. Taking a chance, he turned his back on the gun, slung the girl over his shoulder, and vaulted the fence. A white-hot pain shot through his other shoulder and his right high almost at the same time. He dodged around a corner, ducking and weaving until he was sure that he had lost them.
He shifted the girl on his shoulder and gritted his teeth at the pain in his leg. The bullet had only grazed his shoulder, but he was bleeding all over the place. If the goons wanted to trail him, they could. He had faith in his teammates. He just had to get to them first.