Chapter 4.
 
28 February, 1998
12:30 PM
 

"The body of seventeen-year-old Shizo Tsuki was found today, continuing a trail of killings that started four days ago."

Aya looked to the small television in the room of cots they had been given as he ate a sandwich. Youji and Omi had gone exploring and Ken had gone to use the restroom, leaving Aya alone with his thoughts.

"Tsuki would have turned eighteen tomorrow, leading the police to name the murderer the Leap Year Killer. The police have aired a warning and a plea."

The picture on the screen changed to an official-looking police officer with a microphone thrust into his face. "We ask all citizens who were born on the day of the leap year to be extra cautious as to who they allow into their homes. Each victim has been a child of the leap year."

Something itched in the back of Aya's mind, but he couldn't quite scratch it. He was jolted from his brooding by a cry of pain that came from the bathroom, followed by the clattering of metal, and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

He threw aside his sandwich and rushed to the door with purposeful strides, jerking it open to see his teammate prone on the floor. The towel bar had been torn down, and Ken had spread his arms out from his body, fully extending them as he convulsed against the floor. Blood pooled on the tile floor under his left hand.

Aya hesitated to step into the bathroom, looking around carefully to make sure they were alone.

"Ken?" he asked worriedly, kneeling on one knee next to the twitching Weiß member.

"A-A-A..." Ken stuttered, eyes wild as he looked up at the redhead before he screamed again, and Aya stared in horror to see a small explosion splatter red on the floor and wall near Ken's right hand. Aya grasped at the air, searching for whatever was attacking his teammate, coming up with nothing.

"Shit, shit, shit." Ken panted, his body finally coming to rest as he stopped struggling.

"What?!" Aya demanded, leaning over him, staring intensely. Ken lifted his hands, staring at the blood running down his arms from dark, open wounds in his wrists. Aya grabbed his left arm, turning the hand to see the wound went all the way through.

"What did this?!" he demanded, grabbing the towel from the floor and wrapping it around the wrist, squeezing it tightly to try and cut off the flow.

"I d-don't know." Ken kept staring at his other wrist with a kind of horrified fascination.

Aya jerked on his arm, drawing Ken's eyes to his own. "What. Did. This."

Ken turned away from his lavender gaze, looking back to the sink near his feet. "I-I was just washing my hands. I started to dry them, and my hand just exploded."

Aya looked at the other wrist. He could see light through the hole. He grabbed it as well, wrapping the end of the towel around it tightly.

Ken looked at his trapped hands, and then back up at Aya. "Something threw me to the floor, Aya. I didn't trip or anything, I swear. Something threw me to the floor, and held me there. You saw, didn't you? You know I didn't do this to myself."

"Ken?!" Youji appeared in the doorway, hair falling into his face in his panic. He took in the scene and stepped forward, grabbing Aya's arm.

"What did you do?!" he demanded.

"It wasn't Aya!" Ken yelled as Omi appeared in the doorway. Youji looked to him, then back at Aya's stone-etched face, and let go of his arm.

"Are you okay, Ken-kun?" Omi asked worriedly, wearing a black priest's outfit that was too long for him. Black material dragged on the floor.

"It wasn't Aya," Ken repeated, calmer. "Something attacked me. Something I couldn't see."

"We're not safe, not even here," Aya said evenly, looking ominously at Youji and Omi. Omi grabbed up the excess material with his hands, as if were lifting a skirt, and went to fetch the priests.

"Oh God, this has got to hurt." Youji winced, examining Ken's wrists.

"Actually..." Ken looked at his wrists with him. "It doesn't hurt at all."

"What do you mean? You have gaping holes through your wrists!" Youji stared at him. Ken blinked back at him, at a loss for words and surprised by the outburst.

"You're in shock." Youji pressed his hand to Ken's forehead and cheeks. "That's why you aren't feeling the pain."

"I'm not in shock," Ken protested. "My head hurts from where it hit the floor."

"How can this not hurt?" Youji poked the wound and watched a fresh wave of blood flow out.

An aging priest appeared in the doorway. "I am Father Yutaka. I am the head priest for this church."

"You have demons in your church," Aya said accusingly, leaning against the wall next to Ken and Youji.

"I assure you, there are no demons in this church." Father Yutaka bowed his head respectfully. Then he stepped forward to Ken, revealing Omi and two other priests behind him. Father Yutaka knelt on one knee by Ken, reaching for his hands.

"How were you injured, my son?" he asked gently.

"A ghost, Father," Ken said evenly. "I was attacked by a ghost or something."

Father Yutaka examined Ken's hands, looked up at his face, then made the sign of the cross upon his own chest. "It's the stigmata."

The other two priests stirred, and made the sign of the cross also.

"Are you kidding?" Youji demanded. "Ken having the stigmata? This Ken? Our Ken?"

"He has been blessed by God," Father Yutaka said reverently. "I have never witnessed the stigmata before. God is truly with us."

"What is the stigmata?" Ken asked in irritation of never having heard the word before and yet being afflicted with it.

"The wounds of Christ, my son," Father Yutaka said gently, holding Ken's hands between his own. "The wounds he received on the cross."

"Why do I have them?"

"Only the people God has chosen bear the stigmata," the head priest explained. "And they are usually the highly religious. But God works in mysterious ways, my son. Feel blessed."

"I feel crappy." Ken sighed and Omi giggled. "When does it go away?"

"Only God decides that." Father Yutaka gently pulled Ken to his feet. "Come. With the Fallen One about, as you claim, this may draw him."

"He can't get in here, can he?" Omi asked from the door.

"He cannot stand the might of God, my son," the head priest promised.

-----------

The priests bound Ken's wrists and took him to rest. But the bandages were quickly stained with crimson as soon as they were applied.

Aya, Omi, and Youji were left staring at each other. They were quickly ejected from the bathroom, as other priests came in to clean the blood from the floor. They retreated back to the room of cots.

"The body of fifteen-year-old Sato Kitari was found in the kitchen of her home today, making her the third victim of the day by the Leap Year Killer. The body count now rests at eight since the first victim four days ago."

Omi shivered, sitting next to Aya on his chosen cot. Youji rocked back and forth on his own cot, rubbing his hands together, interlacing his fingers as if he were highly agitated.

"Do you think it's him?" Omi asked the tall redhead, who continued staring at the TV. Aya looked away from the TV at last to look to his teammate.

"I know it's him."

"How?"

"He threw the body of a child onto the hood of my car last night. They identified him as Suzuki Ryohei this morning."

Youji lifted his head to look at Aya, sunglasses having slipped down the length of his nose. Omi looked to his feet.

"Why do you think he's killing them?"

"He's evil."

Omi lifted his head again to see Aya staring back at the television. "Aya-kun?"

"Yes?"

"My birthday's tomorrow. Or would be, if it was the leap year."

Aya froze, his blood running cold. February twenty-ninth. Omi was born on February twenty-ninth. He was turning eighteen. He'd forgotten. Forgotten one of the boy's most important birthdays. He slowly turned to look at the golden-haired boy.

Omi looked back at him with sad eyes. "He wants to kill me too, doesn't he?"

For one horrifying moment, Aya saw Omi lying on the hood of his car instead of the boy Ryohei. He gripped the edge of the cot as he shoved the image from his mind.

"We won't let him," he said, looking away from that dark blue gaze.

"Are you sure?"

Youji took a deep, quick breath, and Aya looked to him to see him gripping the edge of his cot, staring straight ahead. Aya gave him a questioning look as Youji let his breath out in a shuddering gasp.

"Youji-kun?" Omi asked, then his eyes were drawn to the floor, as a thread of dark red began to creep out from under Youji's feet. Omi leapt off the cot, dropping to his knees in a pool of dusky cloth, cupping his hands around Youji's feet.

Aya moved to his knees beside Omi as Youji started to exhale in harsh breaths, sweat rolling down his temples. Omi gingerly pulled Youji's shoes off, and Youji made no effort to resist. His socks were blood soaked, and Omi peeled those off as well. Gaping wounds marked the tops of Youji's feet, and Youji stared at his own feet as if they were something alien.

"The stigmata," he breathed. "It's got me now, too."

Aya looked up into his green eyes, and though he had sounded so calm, fear and uncertainty lived in those eyes.

"I'll get the priests." He stood up, leaving Omi to grab a sheet and wrap it around Youji's feet as Youji pressed his hand to his face, sliding it up to brush his hair back from his sweaty face as he watched Omi. His hand trembled.

-----------

"This is unprecedented," Father Yutaka mused to Aya as priests bound Youji's feet, and Ken sat up on his padded cot to watch in interest. "The stigmata will normally afflict one person. The spreading of the different wounds on different people so soon after each other has never been recorded."

"You mean that was supposed to happen to me?" Ken demanded.

"Yes, my son."

Ken looked at Youji, who looked back at him with worry. Ken rested his chin against his hand, gazing back to Aya and Omi.

"This sucks."

Omi tried to chuckle, but it died in his throat.

"Ah, Kenken, you always did have a way with words." Youji tried to smirk, but it came out as a tired smile.

Ken glanced at him, then back to Aya and Omi. "So which one of you is next?"

Aya did a well-disguised double take. "Next?"

"It struck me, then Youji, so which one of you is next?"

"This is a possibility," Father Yutaka admitted. "But not highly likely."

"Ah, hell no!" Ken shook his head. "It ain't just gonna strike us and not touch them." He pointed his finger at the two. "Bleed. I order you."

"Ken." Youji chuckled nervously. "You're starting to scare me."

Father Yutaka chuckled quietly. "Youth."

Aya looked at Ken with his usual face. The one he wore when he wasn't trying for an expression. Omi looked from Ken to Aya and back again.

"What if it does get one of us?" he asked. "What then?"

"Nothing," Father Yutaka told him. "It will usually go away after a while. The most that has happened in the past was that the blessed person would sometimes prophesize."

"And what do they say?" Ken asked, brushing his bangs back from his face. "The end is near, every man for himself?"

Father Yutaka chuckled dryly again. "Something like that, my son."

--------------

Aya looked up at the stained glass window in the atrium. Lightning made the white cross and dove glow. Under the window was a large replica of Jesus on the cross. Aya looked up at the pain-wracked face of plaster, a light set over it to shine down on the Christ's face like the beam of heaven shining down. Aya stepped up the small steps to the altar in front of the cross.

"Are you doing this to us?" he asked quietly. The statue didn't answer, painted eyes still turned upwards toward the light.

"Aya-kun?"

He turned to see Omi standing at the entrance to the atrium from the wing. He still wore the priest's outfit, seeming to delight in wearing it. In embarrassment, Aya put on his coldest face, and turned his back to the cross. Omi grinned at the familiar expression.

"Don't mind me." He smiled, and hurried past to the middle of the aisle between the pews. Aya watched him run down the aisle, holding up the extra cloth in his hands, black cloth flapping around his legs. Watching Omi run, Aya felt restless. They'd been in the church too long. He felt penned in. Caged. His legs itched to make a flying leap off of the altar steps, and race Omi to the doors.

Before he could really consider it, he was sprinting down the aisle after the boy, stretching his legs out. Omi looked back to see Aya catching up to him, and put on speed, hiking the excess cloth higher.

Aya knew only that he had to win. He had to beat the black clad form to the door. He had to get there first. His long strides quickly brought him up alongside Omi, and then took him beyond, skidding to a stop as his hands touched the door. He turned in triumph, air rushing in and out of his lungs, almost tasting sweet, to see Omi had come to a stop, grinning at him.

"Fine, okay, show off." He smiled broadly. "Just because your legs are longer."

Aya almost let a smile perk his lips, feeling light-hearted for a brief moment. Then he saw the smile fade from Omi's lips as his eyes widened, and he took a tentative step backwards, staring beyond Aya. Aya turned to follow his gaze to the tall, thin window beside the door. Lightning lit up a cloaked figure in shades of gray standing directly on the other side of the window. Aya stepped back away from the door, right hand closing reflexively, reaching for the katana that was back in the cot room.

"Aya-kun," he heard Omi breathe before he felt the boy's hand close on his forearm. He almost jerked away from that gentle grasp.

"He can't come in, he can't come in," Omi chanted breathily, pulling Aya back away from the door.

The hood lifted up enough to reveal glowing red-orange eyes and pain scraped down Aya's head. He clutched at it, feeling as if daggers drug through his skin, slicing through it to scrape across his skull. He fell to one knee in shock and heard Omi call his name in a panic. Warm liquid streaked down his face as his vision began to fade in and out, and he felt the strength fading from his limbs. He was barely aware of his shoulder striking the floor as the sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears, drowning out all other sounds.

His vision faded in and out as if he were fighting sleep, pulsing with the sound of his heart.

*Tha-thump*

The eyes glowing in the darkness of the hood outside the window. Red-orange like burning coals in a fire.

*Tha-thump*

Omi moving forward into his vision toward the door, staring at the figure in the window.

*Tha-thump*

Omi holding his hand out as he stepped toward the window, fingers outstretched toward it.

*Tha-thump*

Red lettering appearing on the wall beside the window as Omi slowly slid his fingers across it.

*Tha-thump*

Bright crimson letters shone wetly in the light as Omi's fingers kept sliding across the white wall, and the glowing eyes turned bright red, shining crimson through the rain-washed glass of the window.

*Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump*