.: O o p s ! :.
by
Lily
Shounen ai, chunks of RanKen and slices of
YoujiOmi
-
^ - ^ -
Mission #N3K : To
infiltrate target's area and extract important information regarding
confidential subject codenamed NA1N-15S-Y8A of section 0K3N-0K. Target must be left
alive at all costs for future interrogation.
Ninmyu Ryoukai.
- ß -
Darting brown eyes
squinted in the dark hallway, searching furtively, on guard for any signs of
disclosing movement. From a location unknown, bright fluorescent rays bounced into
the passage, making it easier for him to perceive the shadowy objects lining
the way. He followed the direction of the light, hoping to complete the one-man
mission as soon as possible.
Moving stealthily, a
sleek graceful Siberian in motion, his feet padded silently forward on the
carpeted floor. Shaking fists clenched and unclenched, unused to the somewhat
comforting presence of his absent bugnuks.
Soft sounds floated from
the illuminated place to his ears. Straining, Ken could distinguish the characteristic
tapping sounds of fingers coming into contact with plastic keyboard keys.
Glancing around once again to check for suspicious moving things, he crept
towards the noise.
A dark silhouette stared
intently at the flickering computer screen in front, back turned and oblivious.
In one soundless fluid motion, Ken managed to cover the vast expanse of the
room and grabbed hold of the person, trying to pin him down. One tumbled
clumsily, one yelped in shock and they both landed heavily next to the upturned
chair whose wheels were still turning merrily, albeit mockingly.
Target found.
- ß -
Oops !
- ß -
"Itai !"
squealed the fallen target.
"Gomen, gomen ne
!"
Blinking, both found themselves
sprawled undignifiedly on the multi-pattern carpet with Ken looking distinctly
uncomfortable and foolish. He failed to carry out the first part of his mission
properly. Furthermore, now he was stuck with a very disgruntled and talented in
self-defense target with no weapon at all.
"Mou, Ken-kun ! Do
you have to ambush me ?"
"Gomen, Omi !"
Ken picked himself up hurriedly, offering a tan hand to help the younger boy.
Still muttering curses
learned from none other than the expert "Uncle" Youji himself, Omi
begrudgingly took the proffered arm and stood, dusting his clothes off for
invisible lint and rubbing at multiple sore spots. He did not appreciate being
tackled to the ground at nine in the evening with an empty stomach growling for
dinner.
"Anything you want,
Ken-kun ? Youji-kun went to get dinner, it's his fault that we are
starving."
"Nothing, really.
Nothing. I, erm... just wanted to..."
Trained ears suddenly
perked up, detecting something different and pressing in the other's tone. Omi
softened his annoyed countenance and tugged at a blue shirt hem gently.
"Wanted to what Ken-kun ?"
Now the totally brash,
confident and hotheaded Siberian was replaced with a docile, over-naive and
timid Ken. He stared at the worn carpet, scuffling his slippers together,
nervous fingers testing the elasticity of his cotton shirt, trying to evade
answering Omi's question voluntarily.
"A-ask you when
dinner would be here," he finished lamely, ready to turn tail at any given
moment.
"Ken-kun !" The
youth admonished, training beseeching blue eyes on his already very
uncomfortable housemate, batting thick eyelashes for added effect. "Wanted
to what ?"
Heaving a long-suffering sigh,
Ken fell back onto the sofa in defeat, complaining at the injustice, "You
don't play fair, Omitchi."
"You don't either,
Ken-kun. Can we just go on ? You wanted to ?"
A tormented groan.
"T-to ask you a few questions, that's all."
"Okay," Omi
plopped down next to Ken without any invitation, waiting expectantly, studying
the fidgeting individual toying with frayed cushion tassels. "Go
ahead."
"Ja," Ken
cleared his throat. "Is Youji-kun treating you okay ?"
Omi nodded slowly,
somewhat unsure where this line of questioning was heading. "He is, of
course. Why wouldn't he ?"
"Well, just curious,
you know. Wouldn't it be like, weird ?"
"Weird ?" The
blond echoed in bewilderment.
More uneasy twiddling of
tassels ensued. During the silent duration, Omi decided he had to buy new
cushion covers in view of the abuse dished out on the current ones. Finally, a
reluctant explanation was given.
"You know, I mean,
you both are guys and all..."
"But, I thought you
were okay with it ?" Omi's bottom lip started to give off an imperceptible
tremble. He thought Ken approved of his relationship with Youji, yet now was
expressing that he found it a weird thing.
Noticing how upset Omi
was working himself up, Ken hastily tried to correct his last reply, waving his
arms around haphazardly for added emphasis.
"Iie, iie, Omi, I
didn't mean it that way. I was just wondering how it feels like, you know. I
mean, both of you are guys and stuff like that. Just curious."
"Oh." A very
relieved sigh escaped those pouting lips. "It doesn't feel weird, if
that's what you want to know, Ken-kun."
"Is it normal for
this to happen ?"
"I guess." Omi
admitted. "Provided there's mutual attraction. It is a rather hard fact to
accept, though"
Ken nodded thoughtfully,
digesting the information Omi was willing to pass to him.
// Maybe, maybe... //
// Not likely. //
The brunette groaned
softly. Even his sub-consciousness was not willing to help him, not even by
offering some encouraging words and support.
"Why the questions
?" Came the abrupt curious query.
Ken squirmed nervously
under the inquisitive stare. How in the world was he going to answer the
question ? That he might have feelings for another guy ? That somehow by
means of a rather sacrificial rescue attempt on a certain person's side had
lead him to feel something other than the best friend kind of friendship for
that person ?
Him, Hidaka Ken, the
fierce, tiger-clawed, soccer-playing, one hell of a goalkeeper, sleek and
skillful Siberian but unbearably naive uke guy ...
// Hey hey, wait a
second, where did uke come from ? Or naive ? //
// Are you trying to defy
the laws of your existence, Kenken ? //
// I give up. //
"Er, Ken-kun ?"
Omi waved a hesitant hand in front Ken's spaced out eyes. He studied the
brunette enquiringly, thoughtfully. Sometimes, the elder's gullibility never
ceases to amaze him, until to the point that he was not sure that if Ken was
indeed nineteen and older than him.
"Ken-kun !"
Blinking in surprise, Ken
turned his wandered attention back to Omi, seeing and not liking the odd
understanding shine in the student's clear blue eyes.
He grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry, got caught somewhere in weirdo land."
"It's okay."
"Okay."
Omi beamed brightly,
shyly pulling at a wisp of escaped blond hair and tucking it behind his ear.
"It's a wonderful thing, you know. To be with Youji-kun."
Ken smiled at the
sweetness and yet sighed in despair, envying the different glowing happiness
emitting from Omi since Youji came by. He wished that someday, maybe he too
could own that radiance for himself. "Demo, Omi... it just seems so wrong,
so not normal..."
"Then, am I
horrendously abnormal to you, Ken-kun ? And I am taking Youji-kun on a Martian
flight with me ?" Omi countered in a wounded tone, yet could not keep
himself from being highly amused.
Another mistake by Hidaka
Ken. Score two for the dunce. He shook his head slowly, unsure of how to word
everything he tried to say without it ending up as an insult.
"Iie, Omi. With you
and Youji, it just seems so natural, so like it was meant to be."
Trembling hands laced into tangles of thick brown hair, raking the stray
strands in hopelessness. "Just different. Normal."
Speechless with wonder,
touched, Omi nodded mechanically, wincing in pain when he realized what Ken was
trying to say. He reached out a hand, gripping the older teen's icy calloused
fingers in his own, willing the other comfort in reciprocated comprehension.
"And you don't see
how this could work out," Omi murmured softly, blinking through his misty
vision. "Between you and Aya-kun."
"Hai." A quiet
reluctant confession was at last dragged out. Then, those hazel eyes rapidly
widened in surprise, head cocked questioningly at the statement.
How did Omi know ? No one
was supposed to know. No one was supposed to know how stupid and dumb he was to
fall head over heels for a frosted sculpture. Or maybe a thawing frosted
sculpture since Aya had been changing when his imouto woke up from her long
coma and continued with her studies. A small sad smile curved across his face.
Aya was friendlier now, his main source of worry being safe and sound, back to
her normal brother bossing days.
"Demo, for better or
worst, it will work out."
A sliver of hope was
offered generously and Ken could only accept, squeezing the fingers that laced
companionably with his. "Hai. I guess."
A short hush followed, each
wallowing in their own thoughts before Omi piqued up solemnly, fervently
tugging at Ken's fingers. "Promise me one thing, Ken-kun ?"
"Which is
?"
"Promise me that
you'll never give up, no matter what ?"
Ken swallowed thickly,
all of a sudden fantastically interested in counting the different coloured
threads used in the cushion cover's geometrical pattern than in anything else.
He calculated them blindly, mind spinning somewhere else.
// How about when it
hurts too much, Omi ? //
// How about when I can't
handle it anymore ? //
"I... I can't
promise you that, Omi."
Omi sighed gently in
acceptance. He knew he should not ask so much out of Ken, not when the upset
person was still perplexed by the whole situation himself. He dwelled on the
options, thinking, wanting everything to work out fine, and grinning when it
came to him.
"Then, promise me
you will try ?"
Ken grinned mutedly,
thankful for Omi's thoughtfulness. This he could do. "Aa. I will."
"Naa, try what
?" A deep masculine voice resounded through the basement, butting into the
conversation without as much as a by your leave.
The two younger members
of Weiss jumped in astonishment, turning to crane necks at the shoulder-length
blond haired man leaning against one part of the cream coloured wall. They had not noticed a third person there. With a delighted
squeal, Omi bounded clear of the sofa and ran right into Youji, eliciting an
unflattering 'oomfh' from the lanky male.
"Easy on the
elderly, Chibi." Youji laughed, ruffling the wheat blond curls of his
koibito before turning towards Ken.
"How's it going, man
?"
"Er, fine ?"
Ken offered and sneaked a glance at Omi, hoping that he could get Youji off the
track of their earlier discussion. Omi acknowledged with a nod.
"Yupe, he's fine,
I'm fine. Now dinner, Youji-kun. I'm starving." The slight youth tried to
drag the protesting man away and into the kitchen.
"Wait, wait. You
haven't answered my questions."
"What question
?" Omi asked impatiently.
"What did you two
promise to try ?"
"Nothing !"
Both the conspirators chorused immediately, cheeks gradually tinted faintly
with pink that earned them a curious look from the enquirer.
"Not going to tell
me ?"
"We did nothing
!"
Youji winked mischievously.
"Aha, I think I know what was going on."
"What could you
possibly know, Kudou ?" Another voice chipped in.
Now three of them jumped,
with Omi bumping his head into Youji's chin while Ken, who could recognize the
voice anywhere began to wish that he was invisible. He tried to mentally
conjure up any magical tools to hack a hole open on the floor for the purpose
of swallowing himself up.
"Aya-kun !".
"Ah, Fujimiya,
you're back. You have right on the dot timing." Youji chortled with glee.
A dark sense of
foreboding popped up as red alert warnings in Ken's mind and he made a move to
evacuate the area as soon as possible. But when Youji wants you to stay, you
had to. And so Ken stood there silently, praying incessantly that Youji had not
heard much of the conversation and vainly ignoring the countless irritating
alarms going off in his head at three-second intervals.
"Out with it then,
Kudou."
"I know something
that you don't know, Aya. Finally, you smart-ass."
"Youji-kun ! Dinner,
now !" The whining tone had a razor edge to it.
However, when Kudou Youji
has that little devilish streak running through him at top speed, coupled with
a good setting and good reason to tease Ken, one can be sure he will go on with
it, no matter how many threats his little Omitchi could throw.
"Want to know
?"
"Yes !"
"No !"
"Youji-kun !"
Grinning to himself that
his latest fabricated mistruth was one of the best he ever thought up, Youji
could not wait to see what would happen. He took a deep breath, ignored the
negative answers and publicly declared it out.
"Ken loves
Aya."
In the first five seconds
after that, the protests stopped and the listeners froze in disbelief. Hushed
silence hung over the living room, glazing over three immediately statued
people and one smirking ex-playboy. Then, Omi almost tore Youji's shirt in
soundless shock, Aya's eyebrows knitted together in a frown and Ken just stood
rooted there, brown orbs wide with anger, amazement and betrayal, swinging
wildly to land on the other three.
"What ? It's true
?" Youji spluttered haplessly, pinned down by intense stares he was
receiving.
// How did he know ? //
// Try keeping things to
yourself next time. It works, you know. //
Abruptly suffering from
speech impediment, Ken could only object in weak defiance, words coming out in
a broken stammers. "T-that is n-not tr-true. Yo-you-jee-kuun. Not tr-true
at all."
Blank gazes turned their
focus on him, causing him to gulp uneasily, unable to meet their stares.
Turning, Ken fled up the
spiral stairs before Omi could call out, stumbling and hurting himself on the
steps in his haste but not quite caring. Let it hurt, as long as they never
know about it and never see these falling tears. No physical pain could hurt as
much.
// I am betrayed. Again.
//
- ß -
He stared out in the
gloomy darkness of the room, looking pointedly past the shuttered Venetian
blinds, sighing heavily. Meditation had not worked, arranging another ikebana
pricked his fingers, reading came in blurred words and even juggling a soccer
ball had hit him right on the head. After all those activities, he could still
not shake his thoughts away from how dumb he acted and how he had allowed his
gut instinct to rule over mind.
Whatever had possessed
him to even have that conversation with Omi, he did not know. All he knew was
that he fully regretted it now. Regretted that he ran away instead of staying
and playing nonchalance. Regretted that he had to fall for Aya in the first
place.
Speaking of Aya, he knew
Aya would not be amused with that dumb lie. Even if he was less uptight and had
began to joke around more, this kind of stunt was a definitely forbidden in the
Fujimiya Aya's Book of Antics and Pranks.
Nevertheless, somehow,
Ken felt thankful to Youji. In the blond's fooling around, the subject had
slipped and it turned out that Aya was not disgusted, merely miffed, irritated.
The matter was shelved by the redhead, minutes after it happened. It was just a
joke after all.
// Or was it not ? //
He sat on his messed-up
bed, giving up on churning out any more other witty distractions, resigning to
just listen to the windy bellows outside, rattling on the window panes. When
sounds of a very loud Omi reprimanding Youji about his devil may care attitude
floated up from the kitchen, he managed a feeble smirk at Youji's expense.
"Youji-kun ! Hidoi !
Baka to hidoi !" *smack* *punch*
"I didn't mean it !
It was a joke ! Itai !"
"Joke ? You call
that a joke ?" *thud* *bop*
"Ow, ow ! A fluke,
Omitchi ! Wild guess !"
"You didn't have to
blurt it out like a public announcer ! How would you feel if I told them
something embarrassing about you ?" *bonk* *kerplunk*
"Omitchi !"
The other sounds were
then subdued as Youji promptly clamped his hand firmly over Omi's mouth,
silencing him against saying anything vaguely mortifying. Altogether, there was
an important lesson learnt there, though. When one messes with an exceedingly
patient, overly genki little bishounen, the return will be guaranteed very
unpleasant.
The chirping voice
appeared minutes later, sounding closer now. Knocks then rapped on his door,
muffled voice asking if he changed his mind and wanted to have dinner. Ken
opened it reluctantly, standing awkwardly at the entrance of his unlit room,
politely refusing even as his stomach grumbled in indignant protests.
Behind Omi, a shamefaced
Youji appeared, apologizing for his clowning around to which Ken could only
sigh in forgiveness. A plastered on smile here, another one of his childish
jokes there and he sent the reasonably assured worrywart Omi off for his weekly
night-out with the repentant ex-playboy.
With nothing better to do
other than to wallow knee deep in self-misery, he plucked a handful of freshly
laundered garments and stepped into the bathroom, shower sounding as an
acceptable activity. Bright lights hurt his eyes as he stepped into the
corridor, mentally urging himself at each quiet measured step to stop thinking
about a certain redhead just one door away.
Safely in the bathroom,
he breathed in relief. Self-control had worked for a moment there. But it was
so close, too close for comfort as he almost made a beeline for his room at the
sound of a tiny creak. Cold tiles felt warm beneath his numb feet as he turned
the nozzle onto full blast.
Groaning, Ken buried his
face in his hands, unsure of what to do, welcoming the cold unforgiving
droplets beating onto his bare back. How would Aya react to the truth ? He had
been contented to admire from afar, to share the offered friendship without
asking for more. He did not want it to change for the worst. Maybe he could
explain to Aya. Justify the proclamation Youji made. After that, things will
turn out fine.
// Just like it used to
be. //
Explain some words, his
actions. Tell him anything. Do something. He would face Aya, later, and tell
him...
// And then, hopefully,
it wouldn't hurt anymore. //
- ß -
There was light coming from
under the door, escaping through the small vent, giving sign that there was
indeed an occupant in the room. Ken wiped cold sweat from his brow, so soon
after a bath, feeling chills running merrily rampant down the length of his
spine.
"Uhm, Aya ?" he
managed to croak out, white knuckles finally rapping on the wooden door after
numerous false starts. "It's me. Can I come in ?"
The waiting began. He
could hear and could imagine Aya languidly raising his head from the book he
was reading, puffing those annoying crimson bangs away from obscuring his
vision before opening his mouth to ask who's there. But Ken knew better than
that, he could give the answer even before the question was asked. There were
other countless things that Ken knew about Aya until a look between them could
suffice as a question.
"Aa, come in."
Shaking hands gripped the
doorknob tightly, one that he opened so many other times before and yet never
felt the hostility of its metallic chill. He nodded blindly against the dark
timber as if to reassure himself, then flushed, angrily berated himself for his
stupidity.
// No one can see you out
here. //
After a horribly
stretched out minute, the doorknob slipped from his severe grip, inquiringly
opened from the other side. Questioningly amused amethysts peered down at him,
half read book in one hand, door in the other, waiting expectantly for a
response. Sharp stolen glances taking in the rigid stance and the giveaway pink
that so often found their way to those features.
"Are you coming in
or are you going to stand there all day, Ken ?"
"H-hai !" Teeth
gritted forcefully to keep them from chattering, the lithe lad moved
cautiously, gingerly stepping into the familiar room, mindful to keep a safe
distance between himself and the redhead.
He jolted when the door
closed with a muffled thud, grimacing at how loud the frantic thumping of his
heart sounded in the tranquil room, wood shut against outside noise. Then, he
practically leapt two feet into the air when a warm hand alighted on his
shoulder, urging him to take a seat.
Although desperately
needing any support to stand, Ken declined swiftly, distraught, scooting away
from the offending hand. Aya raised his hands in discernment, backing off to
move onto the couch which he occupied earlier, leaving the other standing
perturbed, shifting from side to side.
"Ken..."
"Aya..."
"You first."
Pink tongue darted out to
lick dry parched lips, hesitant voice unsure of how to speak. Inner debates was
still raging wildly, fighting for the right thing to say. He was trying to buy
more time before he had to voice out anything.
"A-Aya..."
"Hai ?"
"A-Aya... Aya-chan.
Genki desu ka ?" There. He got the extra time he wanted.
A fleeting look of dismal
impatience crossed the passive face, so fast it was almost invisible.
"Aya-chan ? She's fine. Finding dorm life exciting."
"That's good."
"Un."
Ken fidgeted. Now what ?
Aya only had one sister and his parents were gone. He could not start enquiring
about the Fujimiya clan's well being whenever he wanted to escape from facing
the reality ten seconds later than he was supposed to.
"Actually,
Aya," he wavered, circulation almost grinding to a halt at the intense
burning look directed at him. Ken breathed with difficulty, wondering what
could possibly be the cause of that, yearning badly to be able to decipher that
rare gaze. "I... I wanted you to know that what Youji-kun said just now is
..."
// Can I believe myself ?
//
"Is... ?"
He looked down, feeling
guilt washing over him in torrents, managing only to continue in a small meek
voice. "Is actually false. Not true at all."
Clouded purple orbs
scrutinized the younger boy in silence, cringing slightly at the sight of hands
being wrung mercilessly, threatening to stretch the long sleeved fabric into
disfigurement. He wanted to do something, anything to change the events that
were bound to follow soon after. Something in his gut feeling told him that the
solid wall of their friendship built over the time would inevitably change.
But how could one refuse
the pleading earnest look that brimmed with suspicious sparkles and not give in
to what was requested ? Give in to what was wanted to be heard ? Maybe what
that was for the best. Those liquid chocolate took hold of him, unknowingly
imploring.
// Please, Aya... believe
me. //
Aya relented, he had to.
However, for a little moment there, he had hoped, had almost believed...
"Aa. I know
that."
The brunette tensed
momentarily, movements then slacking off, breathing a sigh of relief.
Everything would be better, would work out. Aya did believe him. What Youji
said was just a lie, an untruth, something created in a fit of fun.
"You should ask
Youji to stop all those teasing, ne ?"
Rolling his eyes upwards,
the victim let out a sarcastic puff of breath, legs folding behind him to take
his rightful place on the couch. "Youji-kun ? Leave me alone ? No way !
Not even if Omi danced in front of him wearing nothing but the laptop."
"How sure are you
about that ?" Aya snickered fiendishly.
Thoughtfully trying to
picture the scene, Ken burst out laughing, dragging Aya with him into throes of
ridiculous comments. The much-needed medium to neutralize the smothering
tension found in pure mirth.
"Anyway, you
shouldn't let Youji and his dumb mockery get to you, ne ?" Aya leaned
closer to the seated teen to run a pale hand through the thick chestnut hair,
ruffling the damp strands in an affectionate manner.
// Nani ? //
"H-h-hai..."
Actions that surprised
both of them, products of attempted failure at resisting temptation. Aya paled
swiftly when realization hit, retreating to the other end of the couch,
muttering curtly, "See that it stays that way."
"Hai."
Blink. Stare. Gape. Gawk.
Blush. All those feats followed in the exact order and repeated themselves as
he watched Aya pluck the book-stopper and continued where he left off from
reading, incidents a few seconds ago affecting the leader of Weiss like a glass
of water poured into the ocean. No difference, no impact, no meaning. He was
used to it.
His scalp was still
tingling from the contact, brain totally fried and befuddled. Ken felt a
strange urge to fall onto his knees and weep shamelessly. A simple touch was
enough to send him hoping, to open up new feelings, creating new aches and
yearnings. Why did that have to happen ?
The air in the
well-ventilated room grew oppressive, suffocating, as Ken squeezed his eyes
shut, desperately needing to breathe. He did not belong here, not with Aya and
those peculiar feelings coursing through him. He knew he had feelings for Aya,
he had come to term with them a long time ago, yet an undying spark had been
ignited moments ago, an unwelcome addition.
He made a barely audible
strangled sound, standing up far too quickly, hurriedly muttering excuses and
apologies about wanting to catch a soccer rerun. Then, he fled for the second
time that night. Fleeing from overwhelming feelings and utter confusion. The
door closed behind him in a hurry, scrambling for a false sense of security. He
leaned back against the wood, breathing coming in harsh ragged breaths, vision
shut to keep the world from spinning madly.
If he had waited a little
longer, hesitant in choice to bang or not to bang the door, he would have seen
the look of pained concern and defeat on Aya's pale features as the redhead
bent down to pick up the discarded bookmark that Ken had fiddled with just
seconds ago.
If the door was heavier
and was shut a few seconds later, he would not have missed the way Aya traced a
finger over the words - "Don't read until your eyes fall out, Aya"
from Ken - etched on the slip of card crowned by ribbon ends. Ken had
painstakingly made it for Aya after hearing him complain endlessly about lost
last-read pages.
But Ken did not see all
those little betraying expressions, and that made all the difference in the
world as he bonelessly slid down the side, crumpled face hidden between shaking
arms. Strong yet silent sobs wrecked the frail body. Hopelessly infatuated.
// Why does it hurt... so
much more ? //
- ß -
Merry jingles from the
wind-chime (a gift from Aya-chan) twinkled cheerfully in the shady emptiness of
the Koneko, illuminated softly by the streetlights outside. Two figures stepped
in from the icy midnight breeze, chuckles and smiles never leaving chilled
lips.
After discarding their
jackets, Youji directed the little one to bed, full of maternal authority,
smacking Omi lightly on the back. The latter grimaced at the mention of work,
then laughed good-naturedly when the lanky blond pulled him into a loose
embrace, slowly making their way up the stairs.
"Bed, Chibi. It's
too late to do anything else. Homework first thing tomorrow morning."
"Yotan... you're the
one who wanted to hang out at the cafe, not me." Omi whined, shuddering at
the thought of rising early on a Sunday morning.
"Saa, are you sure
you can finish them if you sleep in ?"
"Hai. I can.
Demo..."
Youji paused in mid-stride,
waiting, seeing the worried look Omi was casting.
"Do you think it's
advisable to leave Aya-kun and Ken-kun for the first shift tomorrow ?"
"Why not ? They have
been doing it for a year now, so we could sleep in."
The younger nodded as he
took the next step up, smiling at the thought of how kind those two had been.
"True. But there's something you don't know, Yotan. Something has
changed."
"What could have ...
?" Youji trailed off as they reached the landing of the sleeping quarters,
any other further comments promptly lodged and stuffed back into his throat,
finally understanding what destruction he had done to his other housemates.
Guilt crashed heavily,
slicing through at the pitiful sight of the brunette, sprawled in helplessness
and utter defeat at Aya's doorway, partially hidden face streaked with dried
tears, eyes closed in disturbed sleep.
This was the last thing
he wanted to happen when he pulled the prank on Ken, he never knew it have this
impact on the friendship between the two. He thought it was just plain funny,
the way he caught Ken staring thoughtfully at Aya when the other was not
looking, or had not minded. He had never wanted to hurt both of them with that
ridiculous remark. But most of all, he had never even expected it to be so
true.
"O-kami-sama !"
"I-I was hoping this
wouldn't happen. Wouldn't end this way." Omi turned away, eyes clouded
with swimming tears.
Disbelief.
"You knew, Omitchi ?
And you never told me ? If I had known, I wouldn't have made that dumb joke, I
wouldn't have done that. This wouldn't have happened." Uncharacteristic
babblings emitted from Youji, tinged with bluish gray sorrow.
"Saa, it's okay
Youji-kun. Just leave, please ? I'll take care of this."
"Demo..." Older
and wiser but not without weakness, Youji faltered at the appealing cerulean
glance, defeated. He gave Omi an encouraging squeeze on a pliant arm and
disappeared backwards into his room, remorse weighing down each step.
The faint click of the
bolt hitting home brought Omi into motion. If Youji was hanging around, chances
were there will be a bloody injured Casanova on the floor with the highest
compliments of Abyssinian's katana. He lifted a hand to knock softly on the
door, careful not to wake Ken up. Feet shuffling sounds drifted through the
wood and seconds later a tousled headed youth peered out owlishly.
"Aya-kun."
Soft, quiet, urgent.
"Nan dayo ?"
Small but wiry arms dragged
the half asleep person out, one thumb cocked towards the floor haplessly. Tired
eyes immediately widened, mouth opened to form a wordless question. Bewildered.
Not comprehending why Ken was slumped at the entrance of his room when the boy
took off hours earlier to catch the said soccer rerun.
"Naa, did you guys
have a fight ?"
Crimson bangs flew as Aya
snapped his up at the question, fiery ambers dancing in his violet eyes. "Iie,
we never fight." A simple statement.
"Demo, doushite...
?"
Head lowered back to the
figure on the floor, bending, scooping the slumbering boy up in his arms, a
ghost of a smile briefly tracing a line across his face. He moved to return to
his room, pausing to look back at Omi.
"I'll take over from
here."
The younger boy could
only agree, problems were best left to be solved by the people involved. He
hesitated, then halted Aya with a small tap on the shoulder. "Douka...
douka kare wo tasukete."
Aya grunted, partly in
acknowledgement and partly because of the weight shift in his arms. "Go to
bed, Omi. It's late."
"Hai. Ja,
oyasumi."
"Un."
Fighting back tears, Omi
melted into the shadows, silently standing, watching Aya struggling to move Ken
into his room. The icy aloof pretense was gone, replaced by something
different, almost tender in its wake. He knew Aya was strong enough to pick up
any of them in a fireman's hold within a two-second notice, yes, even Youji,
but now he was not doing so. Instead, he slung one limp arm across the
shoulders, cheek resting on chest, gently pulling the sleeper in.
It was time to leave,
before Aya noticed him and brought out that infamous katana. Omi trotted off
quietly, detouring to Youji's room, hope bursting in his little heart.
Maybe now, things would
be better.
- ß -
A sudden sound
unceremoniously hauled him out from the dreamy wonderland limbo. He shot up,
alert, searching for the unusual noise, something that sounded almost like an
infuriated growl. Then, he realized he was not sitting in his own bed, not
swathed with his own cotton sheets. Startled gaze swept across the dark room in
fright, feeling goose bumps pop up by the dozen as it landed on a particular
sight.
Glinting maroon eyes,
almost blood red in fury, flashed dangerously in the dim light, piercing right
through him. Those arched brows curved in a frown, the grim mouth set in a thin
line and that long velvet midnight trench coat sprinkled liberally with buckles
reminded him of someone familiar, someone he knew and adored. Yet it was not
who it seemed to be.
"Ki-kimi wa dare
?" Ken croaked.
The person favoured him a malicious scowl, crossing over the
empty room, coming far too close for comfort. Ken inched back in alarm,
despairing when his back connected with the steel rail of the bed, beads of
cold sweat making their appearance. Hot breath tickled his face as the person
leaned close, their noses almost touching, strong grip pinning him down from
moving.
"Ore wa Fujimiya Aya
desu."
"Aya ?"
// What is going on ? //
This Aya - is this even
Aya ? - was strong, very strong, almost inhumane in force.
"Hai. Aya desu. Ran
desu."
// Masaka. //
"Aya... ? Ran...
?" Ken repeated dumbly. Two names, one person. But, who was this someone
who called himself Aya ? "You are not him."
"Urusai." A
coarse palm lashed out, connecting sharply with Ken's cheekbone, sending him
backwards to hit the wall with a hollow thump. The receiver bit his lip in
pain, drawing blood, inaudible moans escaping from reddened mouth.
"Do you know what
happens to people like you ?"
Still not fully recovered
from the first assault, Ken almost yelped when his assailant grabbed hold of his
head, yanking his hair fiercely, biting down on the exposed sensitive flesh of
his throat. He was immobilized, thoughts jammed and could only feel numbing
pain while trying to bravely hold back tears.
"Yaa-ya-me-ro..." he begged brokenly, wanting this to stop,
not comprehending the situation of why he was being treated this way. As a toy,
perhaps. This creature could not, could never be Aya.
"Do you know what
happens to people who love me ?"
// Love ? //
Shock. He tensed, trying
to speak, to deny the fact when a mouth roughly covered his, silencing him
effectively. Seeking but not giving, biting in anger. Tears that had been held
back flowed freely now, feeling something breaking inside. This was not the way
it was supposed to be. Aya's caresses could never be like this. This lips were
cold, brutal and merciless, crushing down until he groped for air.
"Aaa... yaa..."
"Do you know ?"
Heavy weight was lifted
from his side, the offending mouth leaving, trickling blood dripped on his shirt.
Ken opened his eyes in surprise at the release, feeling apprehension gripping
tightly onto him. The person rocked back on his heels, wicked smile present,
grinning like a hunter studying its prey.
"They die."
Then, Ken saw the katana.
- ß -
"Aya ?"
Deep amber eyelashes
twitched repeatedly, telltale cracks forming between closed lids. He jolted
awake on hearing his name being called, blinking, adjusting to the small amount
of light available in the room.
"Aya... ? Ran...
?"
He froze. The plaintive
voice asking and searching. Only a selected few knew his real name of his
former self before he took up his sister's identity. In Weiss, only two souls
did. One was him, and the other was Ken.
Ken.
Aya jumped up, scrambling
to get to the sleeping teen, madly trying to dislodge his feet from the tangle
of blankets surrounding him. Succeeding, he rushed to the bed, leaning heavily
on the side table to catch his breath and a sight of Ken, only to wish that he
were somewhere else instead.
A tortured frown marred
the contorted face, body twisting, struggling between covers as if trying to
shake off an unseen enemy. Distressed appeals requested a stop, to end whatever
that was happening, calling out his name in a plea.
That was the last straw.
Something bad was going on and Aya did not like one bit of it. Out of his
sensible wits, he took hold of the writhing figure and gave him a thorough
shake, frantically repeating Ken's name over and over again.
"Wake up !"
Terrified bronzed eyes
shot open, jostling up, throwing panicky glances around. Tiny shimmers of sweat
covered the skin with a translucent sheen, nostrils flaring at the coppery
smell of blood. He saw the redheaded figure hovering before him, dread washing
over, feeling the omnipresent crush of bone against him. He cowered back, arms
raised in defense, pressing closely to the cold wall, trembling in utter
fright.
"Ken ?" A pale
hand reached out, only to be swatted nervously away.
Pain reaffirmed itself,
moans echoing in his mind. Images of a vice grip that left him with countless
bruised spots, breathlessness, a knee into his chest to stop him from
fighting.
"Ya-yamero.
Onegai... Go away."
// No more... please. //
"What happened, Ken
?"
The upset teen, very much
resembling a lost and bereft child drew whatever pillows, sheets and covers
within reach closer, wrapping himself in a little cocoon at the nook of the
wall, actions leaving a painful question mark on Aya.
"Go away,
please."
Aya moved closer, gently,
and after many futile attempts was able to purchase a hold on the edgy person.
"Ken, daijoubu ka
?"
"No !"
He struggled wildly
against the grip, fear clouding up his eyes, tense and ready for the attack,
not wanting to endure a second round. But the attack never came as Aya backed
off, surprised and worried. He stopped thrashing around, chest welling with
detained sobs to look up at the blurry shape of the face close to his.
"Don't touch me.
Please. No more." Guttural pleas repeated itself, chanting almost as if it
was a mantra. He hissed, drawing breath between gritted teeth, memory flooding
back to his mind's eyes unbidden, seeing that cold scarlet gaze fill with
hatred, with a wish to hurt, with an intent for blood.
"Kami-sama. What
happened, Ken ? Gomen ne..." Weight shifted onto the mattress, perching on
the side, thoughts swirling in a puzzled haze.
Gomen ne ? This Aya
apologized ? Brown eyes blinked, a semblance of saneness slowly returning to
them, terror gradually fading into the background, mocking flashes cut off.
"A-Aya ?"
Uncertain fingers raised in question, shyly fluttering over Aya's face.
"Is that you, Aya ?"
"Yeah, it's me, Ken.
I'm here."
Teeth bit onto already
bleeding lips, doubtful. "Which Aya are you ?"
That question delivered a
hefty blow to Aya's abysmal eloquence. How was he supposed to answer that
question ? A childlike question, yet different. The query needed an answer, but
Aya was not sure how to provide it. He furrowed his brows in concentration,
rattling off.
"Fujimiya Aya,
Fujimiya Ran, Abyssinian, Rook of Crashers, brother of Aya-chan, stick
shoved-up-his-ass leader of Weiss," Aya rolled off, mentally ticking off a
list of his identities. "And, best friend of Hidaka Ken."
A watery smile.
"Aya... it's really
you."
"Aa."
Immeasurable relief
flooded through, rigid tension giving way to limp tiredness. Seeing that, Aya
moved closer, pulling the yielding figure towards him. He uncurled those
balled-up fists gripping onto fabric, rubbing the scratch marks left by
despairing nails, waiting for Ken's breathing to smooth out, allowing a short
silent period to past.
"What happened
?"
Ken squirmed uneasily.
"It's just a nightmare. Nothing more."
"Tell me."
He turned away from Aya,
eyes shut tightly against visions that threatened to engulf him in their lurid
dancing, not wanting to tell, but could not refuse the request. A hand covered
his, and his mind almost screamed in panic, the detested tickle of hot breath
haunting him. He urged control, alarm subsiding only when he realized that the
hand it did not seize his viciously, but rather in a coaxing soothing manner.
"I dreamt about
you."
Aya kept his silence
dutifully, waiting, nodding to urge the continuation of the story. He watched
the shaking body pressed close to the wall, pitifully defenseless, which bore a
scant resemblance to the friend he knew and fought beside. And Aya hated that.
He hated the paleness of Ken's skin, the bloodshot eyes, the smell of fright in
the air and most of all he hated himself because he could do nothing about it.
"H-he told me his
name was Aya. But the person could not be you." Hazel eyes widened
momentarily, anxiously wanting to make sure that Aya was there. "He was
horrible, and he hated me..."
Slowly, resolve
weakening, Aya sank to his knees on the bed, placing one arm on either side of
Ken's body to gather him, covers and all into his arms. Ken's breath rasped in
his throat, a weak, futile plea stifled, flagging arms clasped loosely in hands
bigger than his.
Aya could feel Ken's
heart beating faster as he arched, trying to break free, twisting, taxing his
strength against the older man. The aching muscles convulsed, protesting and
for a moment, Aya almost lost his hold on those delicate wrists. Then all the
erected defenses crumpled and Ken went flaccid, falling back, reluctant sobs
breaking unevenly onto the surface.
// Do you know what
happens to people who love me ? //
"He wanted to kill
me."
Gazing down onto the
hidden shadowed face, Aya felt a tidal surge of emotions - tenderness,
confusion and anxiety - that had tormented him for so long rushing through him,
feelings that could not be ignored any longer.
"Doushite ?" he
whispered, hand reaching up to gently brush a strand of damp hair away from the
closed eyes, his own body rocked by the force of sobs. "Doushite kare
wa kimi wo korosou to shita no ?"
// They die. //
A faint whimper emitted
from those bruised lips, trembling fingers clutching onto Aya's shirt, nudging
closer, desperately seeking for comfort. He shook his head obstinately,
unwilling to go on, tears streaking a wet soaked path on the fabric.
Aya found himself
whispering little bits of encouragement and soft reassurances, arms tightening
around the boy, fear creeping into his own joints at the thought of Ken
dreaming about him wanting to kill Ken. Whatever for ?
"Suki nan
dayo."
"Nani ?"
Ken sniffled, breathing a
long shivering sigh. Would Aya understand ?
"He wanted to
kill me... because I love you."
That was the last thing
he expected to hear. He tensed, mouth gaping as Ken's fingers dug into his
shirt, his body huddled, bent into his own. Aya felt dampness seeping into his
skin from salty tears, silent sobs, stroking the boy's back dumbly, thoughts
scattered like cherry blossoms in April. Brain courteously notifying him that
what Youji had said was true, true and gloriously true.
"Ken."
// You couldn't love me
Aya. //
There was no response,
none except for soundless shudders that shattered his soul. He could feel Ken
struggling for self-control, alert and ready to flee from rejection. He
released the embrace, wanting to see Ken's face, only to have himself pulled
back in despair, the other not ready to let go.
// But, at least, do me a
favour. //
"Onegai, Aya. Just a
little longer." The cracked plea reached his ears, voice heavy with
misery. "Just hold me a little longer, and then I'll leave. Onegai..."
Aya sighed, relenting,
closing his eyes, deep in thought. They sat silently, locked together, Ken's
face buried in Aya's shoulder, having long accepted the fact of unrequited
affection, yet just wanting to savour whatever moments he had left. Just let
him have his time and he will forget about it tomorrow.
"Naa, Ken."
// That's too fast ! //
"Ten seconds more,
onegai..." he murmured, lifting a forlorn head when Aya nudged him in the
ribs. "Hmm ?"
"Can I hold you
longer than that ?"
- ß -
Mission #N3K-2 :
Target, known as Red, is accused of subjecting innocent and hapless victims
into labour work with threats and a special
weapon, identified as Anatak, which should be avoided for safety precautions.
Target must brought down as soon as possible.
Ninmyu Ryoukai.
- ß -
Another one-man mission
without bugnuks. Ken dreaded them as much as he dreaded morning shifts after a
soccer marathon. But a job was a job; no complaints should be voiced, lest he
got fired. Day missions were few and rare and this was one of them.
He moved in languid
precision, dancing chocolate eyes drinking in the sunlight leisurely, having
memorized the layout of the place like the back of his hand. Every twist and
turn, every nook and cranny was known.
Sounds cued him into
location, the rustle of paper and thudding of heavy objects. Ken could imagine
the people working under the rule of the target, constantly being threatened
with the - what is its name - yes, the Anatak and shuddered.
He rounded a corner,
feeling adrenalin pumping in his ears, muscles tensed and ready. He was close,
he knew, geared up for a skirmish and to defend. He caught sight of the workers
shifting goods, their heads barely coming above the pile.
Target found.
Standing there, unknown
of the lurking danger, surveying the area. Ken was so close, running, breath
coming in soft pants, almost there. Just a little bit more and he would topple
the target in one of his famous flying tackles. Blood rushed to his face from
the exertion of the sudden sprint.
Three.
Two.
One.
Zee...
"Don't even think
about it, koi."
// Aya hidoi yo. //
Ken skidded into a halt,
arms that were raised for a super bombastic morning hug flailing uselessly by
his side. A blush burned its way to his face, confronting his other teammates
that were already up working and then withered under a certain amused lilac
glare.
He meeped sheepishly,
scratching the back of his head, offering them a weak grin.
"Oops !"
-
o w a r i -
7770 words
Weds Sept 12 - Sat Sept 29 2001
- ^ - ^ -
Lily : *blinks
dumbly* Wow ~ ! Owarimashou ! *jumps happily*
Ken : What ? Who is
this crazy person that is writing about us ?
Ran : *huggles Ken*
Try to forget she drew us too, okay.
R & K : *smacks forehead* Hontou ni ? Oh my god !!! Tasukete !
Lily : *sweatdrops*
Oro ~ ! Should I stop ?
Mission Lingo : The
codes and stuff used in the mission log.
|
#N3K / #N3K-2
|
File KEN / KEN-2 =
mirrored and numbered
|
|
NA1N-15S-Y8A
|
Abyssinian =
mirrored and numbered
|
|
0K3N-0K
|
KONEKO = mirrored
and numbered
|
|
Red
|
Nickname because of
Aya's hair, pirate-ish, ne ?
|
|
Anatak
|
Katana = mirrored
|
Jissho : Nihongo words used in fic. Some meanings are used changeably depending
on situation.
|
Nimyu Ryoukai
|
Mission accepted
|
Iie
|
No
|
|
Gomen (ne)
|
Sorry
|
Uke
|
Submissive
|
|
Itai
|
Ouch ! / It hurts !
|
Hai
|
Yes
|
|
Ja
|
Well…
|
Imouto
|
Younger sister
|
|
Demo
|
But
|
Aa / Un
|
Yes (male)
|
|
Hidoi
|
Evil / cruel / bad
|
Baka
|
Stupid / idiot
|
|
to
|
And
|
Ne
|
Right ?
|
|
Chibi
|
Little One / Small
|
Saa
|
Come / Let's / Well
|
|
(O) Kami-sama
|
(Oh) My God !
|
Nan dayo ?
|
What is it ?
|
|
Naa
|
Hey / Erm
|
Doushite
|
Why
|
|
Oyasumi
(nasai)
|
Good night
|
Urusai
|
Shut up
|
|
Yamero
|
Stop
|
Onegai
|
Please
|
|
Daijoubu ( ka
? )
|
Are you okay?/I'm
fine
|
Nani
|
What ?
|
|
Aya desu. Ran
desu.
|
I am Aya. I am Ran.
|
Kimi wa dare
?
|
Who are you ?
|
|
Ore wa
Fujimiya Aya desu.
|
I am Fujimiya Aya.
|
Douka kare wo
tasukete.
|
Please help him.
|
Credits : My second
WK fic ~ Woo hoo ! *glomps* As ever, ichi-man arigatou to Lo-chan for beta-ing
this fic, putting up with my writer's block and going crazy with me. *hands
Lola an Inu-Yasha plushie* Tomodachi no ichiban !
And then, hontou arigatou
to all those wonderful people out there who had dropped me a line, bashed me on
the head and generally chased all those bloated gray clouds away. You all know
who you are ~ gomen ne that I can't name you all (this file is totemo big
already) but *big big huggles* love you guys all the same ! *sniffles*
Notes : Weiss and
all does not belong to me. We all know that, ne ? But they belong to us in our
hearts and whenever we believe in them.
This fic is courtesy of my
cell phone's light, sore fingers, frizzled hair, one bottle of eye drops and
loads of anime songs.
Comments onegai ~
arigatou !
Name : Lily
Email : lily@sushi.co.jp
ICQ : 19112563
Url : http://www.riyume.f2s.com
- o w a r i . m a s h o u -
