Chapter 5.
28 February, 1998
3:30 PM
Youji was rolling a cigarette between his lips, not smoking it, but merely holding it was comforting. Ken was trying to talk to a young priest near his cot, working on a computer. Ken was asking for the scores on the latest soccer game. The priest insisted he wasn't allowed to go on the Internet to look for them.
Youji chuckled. Some things never changed. The thought was comforting.
Then the door was pushed open, and two priests entered, carrying a very unresisting Aya between them. Youji sat up quickly as they carried him over to another cot that had been set up shortly after Ken's earlier question of who was next.
"What happened?" He stepped out of his cot to Aya's as Ken scrambled over. Blood streaked down Aya's face from under his hair, his eyes closed.
"The stigmata continues," one of the priests said, stepping over to their supply cabinet and filling a bowl with water.
"Aya." Youji shook his teammate's shoulder. Aya didn't react to the treatment.
"What stigmata is this?" Ken demanded.
"The crown of thorns." The priest carried over the bowl and a washcloth, brushing back Aya's hair to reveal near-black, red slashes across his forehead. The other priest who had helped to carry him in made the sign of the cross on his chest. The first priest began to wipe the blood from Aya's face and Ken looked back to the door.
"Where's Omi?" he demanded.
"Prophesizing," the priest answered quietly, his eyes holding a look of reverence. Youji and Ken both hurried out the door to the atrium, spotting a small gathering of priests near the main doors. They hurried down the aisle, pushing through the priests none to gently, and stopped in their tracks. Omi was tracing his finger along the wall, streaking blood on the white paint, and another priest stood near, copying down the letters as fast as Omi wrote them.
None of the priests were making a move to stop him, numbly watching in awe. Ken was angered. He pushed a priest aside, stepping forward purposefully and the priests around him grabbed his arms.
"Let go!" he yelled at them. "Why aren't you stopping him?!"
"Don't interfere!" they hissed at him. Youji grabbed the priests by the shoulders, jerking them back forcefully, nearly sending one to the floor. Freed, Ken stepped up behind Omi, who took no notice of him, continuing to scrape his bloodied finger along the wall.
"Omi," Ken said quietly, and Omi's finger stopped in mid-letter. The golden head turned and blank blue eyes looked at him. Panic seized Ken's heart for a moment. It wasn't Omi looking at him. There was no one home in those depths. No consciousness lived in those eyes as they looked at him, unblinking.
"Omi." Ken reached out his hand, blood soaking his bandaged wrist. Omi didn't seem to notice the hand thrust toward him, simply staring back at Ken's eyes. Then, with agonizing slowness, his hand moved away from the wall, and he turned to place that hand in Ken's. At the moment of contact, bright blood streaked down Ken's arm to drip to the floor.
Ken let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. The blood didn't bother him. There was no pain. Omi started to crumple, and Ken knelt down to catch him, gathering him up in his arms. He stood, turning to look back at the priests, who looked at him with utter amazement.
They're looking at me as if I were God himself, Ken thought. Even the look on Youji's face was one of awe. The priests began to mutter prayers and make the sign of the cross on their chests.
"Stop praying and help me!" Ken snapped, jolting them from their prayers. Father Yutaka came walking down the aisle as the priests stepped forward to help take the unconscious boy from Ken's arms.
"We bear witness to the miracles of God," Father Yutaka said ominously. The scribing priest stepped over to him, handing him the papers he had been writing on, speaking in a hushed tone. The head priest read over the paper, then looked at Ken.
"To you it is said, behold the face of your God, the beginning of comfort, whose eyes are the brightness of the heavens," he said with reverence, reading from it. The other priests began murmuring prayers again and Youji blinked from the Father to Ken, then to the letters on the wall.
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Youji brushed his hair from his face, letting out a long exhale as he looked down at the unconscious Aya. Omi was lying on Ken's cot, and the brunette sat protectively next to him, trying to cajole that same young priest to look up the soccer game scores before they bled to death.
Three out of four, Youji thought, looking at the youngest Weiß member. And Christ had five categorized wounds, if he remembered correctly. He began to fear for the boy, the thought of either of the last two wounds appearing on his body.
He heard Father Yutaka and his priests muttering in deep conversation just outside the door. They realized it too; they had to have. So when the next wound appeared, what happened then? Youji was expecting something miraculous for the trouble it was causing.
The door opened, and the Father stepped in, looking directly at Youji. Seeing Aya was still unconscious, he motioned for Ken and Youji to come to him.
"We must speak," he said gravely. Giving their team members one last glance, the two stepped out after the Father.
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"The boy, Omi." Father Yukata walked ahead of them into the atrium, hands clasped behind his back. "When is his birthdate?"
Ken and Youji gave each other questioning glances.
"It's...tomorrow," Youji answered quietly, and Ken wondered why Youji sounded so desolate.
"As I feared." Father Yutaka bowed his head, stopping before the altar. "We translated the rest of the words."
"What do they say?"
The Father turned to look at them solemnly. "Blasphemy."
Both Youji and Ken did a double take in disbelief.
"But, you started reading it," Ken said in denial. "It sounded good to me."
"The beginning sounds like the word of God," the Father agreed. "But it is farther down that we realized it was not the word of God at all."
"Then who's is it?"
The Father took a breath before he spoke. "It is written in the language of the angels. But it speaks of horror and despair, and only one angel would write such."
Ken and Youji looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to continue.
"The Dark One, the Fallen Angel, he preaches through the boy."
"No, wait." Ken shook his head, trying to absorb this. "That can't be true. There's a mistake."
"There is no mistake." Father Yutaka closed his eyes and bowed his head. "He is the unholy host."
"No." Ken shook his head. "No! That's not true!"
"Father," Youji said quietly. "Are you sure?"
"The day of his birth is right, and the Dark One has already displayed his power over the boy." The Father turned away from them, looking up at the statue of crucified Christ. "We aren't mistaken."
"So what does that mean? Will you be able to do something?" Youji stepped toward him.
"That is what I needed to talk to you about." The Father didn't look at them. "We cannot let him have the boy. It will mean Armageddon."
Youji and Ken nodded, though the priest couldn't see it.
"So, you'll help us protect him?"
"Yes." The Father gazed up at the Christ's face. "We must protect his eternal soul. I am asking for your understanding."
"Understanding?" Ken frowned. "What is there to understand? He's got a time limit, right? We've just got to hold out until then!"
"My son." Father Yutaka finally looked to him. "You must understand our position. We cannot take the risks. The price could be too high."
Ken was still trying to comprehend the mixed messages when Youji's hand landed on his shoulder.
"You wouldn't," he breathed.
"Please understand, my son. We cannot take the chance."
"No!" Youji used Ken's shoulder to push off of, running back for the side wing door. Realization finally smacked Ken upside the head and he stepped forward, grabbing the Father by the front of his robe.
"If they've so much as touched him..." Ken let his voice drip the promise of violence. "I'll kill you."
Looking at the priest's sullen expression in the face of the threat, Ken realized the priest was willing to pay that price. He shoved the priest to the floor, snarling.
"You aren't a man of God," he said slowly. Calmly. "A man of God shows mercy."
Father Yutaka watched Ken sprint for the door and lowered his head to the floor, begging in prayer for forgiveness.
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Youji flung open the door and it slammed into a priest, sending him into the wall, kissing the back of the door. Youji stopped, holding the door open, keeping the priest trapped behind it. Aya stood on the far side of Ken's cot, holding Omi over his shoulder, katana in hand. Two more priests stood around the cot in attack stances, one holding an ornate dagger. The other priests in the room had retreated from the vicinity, watching from behind cabinets and other furniture.
Youji grinned. "You got excellent timing, Aya. You know that?"
The priest armed with the dagger tried to move toward them, and Aya turned, letting the pale light gleam over his blade. The priest stepped back, knowing his own blade was much smaller.
"He must be killed," the priest hissed. "For the sake of humanity!"
"Not while we're alive," Ken answered, stepping up beside Youji. The priest took a moment to weigh the odds, then leapt forward, dagger raised to strike. Youji's wire sang on its way through the air to snag the priest by his raised arm, jerking him down out of his leap and to the floor.
"Aya! Now!" Ken yelled, backing up to make room for the redhead. Aya dashed through the opening and Youji blocked the doorway, retracting his wire.
"You are forsaken," he said grimly, and slammed the door shut behind him.
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Splashing through the shallow streams that used to be streets, Youji hurried to catch up to Aya and Ken.
"Where do we go?" he yelled through the steady hiss of rain striking the water as it swirled around their ankles.
"We have no place to go but home!"
"He'll be waiting for us there!" Ken protested, wiping rain from his eyes.
"We're much more vulnerable out here!" Aya squinted in the driving rain that pound against his face. Youji gave Ken a shove, moving him along.
"He's right! At least there we have a phone! Let's make Persia cater to us for once!"
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Youji opened the front door just a crack, listening for sounds of movement. At the silence he reached his arm in, and flipped on the light, ready to jump back. The white light seemed entirely too bright, making him blink rapidly as his eyes adjusted.
Everything appeared to be in order. He pushed open the door, waiting for any sign of an attack. None came. Ken and Aya stepped into the doorway behind him, escaping the rain.
"We'd better clear the house." Youji watched the kitchen and the hallway intensely. Aya nodded, and without a word, placed Omi into Ken's arms. Ken readjusted his hold before he could accidentally drop the unexpected burden, giving Aya a questioning look.
Aya lifted his katana and looked away, indicating that was the only answer he was going to give. He stepped toward the kitchen with Youji at his back, leaving Ken to watch from the open doorway.
Clearing the kitchen, Aya and Youji moved on down the hallway, clearing rooms. Ken waited tensely, readjusting Omi again.
"Geez, Omi, when did you actually start gaining weight?" he muttered to the unconscious boy in joke as he shifted the boy's weight in his arms. "...and are you growing breasts?!"
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Youji and Aya returned to announce the house clear after having searched every room, closet, bathroom, drawer, cabinet, and under every bed.
"Where do you think they all went?" Ken asked, finally freeing his arms by letting Omi down onto his own bed.
"I think your soccer shirts fumigated them." Youji made as if to pinch his nose closed, pointing at a pile of laundry in the corner of Ken's room.
"Ha, ha," Ken muttered dourly. "Don't you have a call to make?"
"Che! Youji has to do everything," the blonde sighed, stepping back out toward the living room for the phone.
"Change into dry clothes." Aya looked to Ken. "If Omi wakes, have him change too. Be ready to evacuate at a moment's notice."
"Where are you going?" Ken demanded.
"To follow my own advice."
Aya stepped over to the door, and paused. "You almost forgot your bugnucks. I tucked them in Omi's outfit."
Ken watched Aya leave his room, looked down at Omi, and unbuttoned the outer jacket, finding his heavy gloves in Omi's chest area.
"Hmm," Ken grinned, glad to have them back. "You had me worried there for a moment, Omittchi."
Omi didn't answer, and Ken put the gloves back down next to him. "If you wake up, keep your eyes to yourself," he warned, and pulled dry clothes from the closet.
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Youji sat on the couch, having changed to dry clothes. More specifically, his assassin outfit. With a grimace, he had realized it too closely resembled a priest's outfit. He'd have to see about a change of wardrobe.
He flipped the channels, searching for the soccer scores Ken had been close to selling his own body for.
His feet were still bleeding, but nothing like they had at first. Omi had awoken, and Ken had taken him to change, refusing to let the boy out of sight for an instant.
Youji had heard Aya and Ken arguing in hushed tones in the hallway before Omi broke them up with a few gentle words. The unholy host? Omi? Gentle, always smiling, incredibly smart Omi? Well, sure, he killed people with darts and arrows, but Youji himself had done worse. It still seemed impossible.
Feeling his fingers itch for a cigarette, he lit one, lolling his head back on the couch as nicotine returned to his bloodstream. Let Omi scream at him for smoking in the house. What was he supposed to do? Go outside and ask the devil if he had a light?
