Well, it's finally finished. Yay! Um, yeah. Thank you to everyone who read and commented on this fic, and many thanks for being so patient with me when I had writer's block and left things unresolved.

Anyway, thank you everyone!

~silvershadeus~

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz; I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit.

Feedback, onegai! ^_^

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Perfect Day - Part 5

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Hey now -
It seems you've always
Touched me like the sun.

There's no escape for the broken-hearted,
There's no return once you've lost your way.

~Perfect Day~ Roxette

There was nothing more awkward than having to admit what an ass you'd been to someone. Well, perhaps there were one or two things, but in his current state of mind, Yohji wasn't quite able to remember what they were. He could felt the answer fluttering about in the back of his mind like a trapped moth, but the haze of a hangover subdued by asprin kept it at bay.

Standing at the back entrance to the main room of the flower shop, Yohji watched as Omi walked around the displays, checking things off of a clipboard he held. Aya stood as resolute as ever behind the cash register, violet eyes tracking his younger teammate's movements.

Sighing, Yohji pushed his sunglasses higher up on his nose, and then stopped as he realized what he was doing. A glance down at himself only served to confirm it.

He was dressed in a long-sleeved sweater and loose jeans, his favorite pair of sunglasses stylishly perched on his nose.

And he knew why, too. It was like his version of armor. This way he felt more secure, knowing that there were no revealing bits of his body showing that would perhaps make him appear weak in the eyes of his opponent. Which was almost funny, considering just who his 'opponent' at the moment was. The sunglasses served a dual purposed this time around, however. Not only did they block out the blinding spears of light that his eyes just couldn't seem to handle at the moment, they hid his eyes.

He'd always been told that the eyes were the key in getting to understand a person. Learn to read them, and you would understand how someone thought, and maybe even a little bit of why they thought the way they did. It was why he wore sunglasses when he felt uncertain or didn't want others to know what he was thinking.

Sighing again, he pulled his sunglasses off and folded them, holding them in his hands as though they were a lifeline to a drowning man. While removing them had been a step in the right direction, he was not quite ready to totally relinquish his hold on them. For the illusion of security and privacy they offered him, if nothing else.

In theory, it should have been simple.

All he had to do was walk up to Omi and apologize. He knew he would be forgiven, but he wasn't so sure that he deserved it. Omi was like that; always ready to forgive almost any hurt done to him in the name of friendship.

For someone as young as he was, Omi had managed to grasp the concept of friendship and forgiveness more fully than any other person Yohji had ever known. It was hard to believe that someone with a past like Omi's would even be able to comprehend what those things were, let alone gain such a total understanding of them.

This, of course, only made what Yohji knew he had to do even harder. He didn't just want Omi's forgiveness; he wanted to know that he had earned it, even if it took the rest of his life. Which probably wouldn't be all that long, considering the glare Aya was giving him...

A quiet cough from behind him alerted Yohji to Ken's presence, and when he glanced over his shoulder he scowled at the little smirk the younger man was giving him. Ken winked and pushed past Yohji, carrying one of his soccer balls under one arm.

"Ne, Aya, I'm taking off for a while. Want to come with me? Sayako's been asking after you again, she's fascinated with your hair."

Violet eyes slid over to Ken, something flitting through them so fast that Yohji wasn't sure he'd seen it. Ever since Aya had reluctantly accompanied Ken on one of his days off to play soccer with the neighborhood kids, he'd been all but adopted by them.

The mere thought of which normally amused Yohji to no end. It was hard enough picturing Aya unbendiung enough to actually join Ken on one of his outings, but having screaming toddlers hanging off of him and calling him 'niichan' was too much, even for him.

"Aa."

Worrying at a scratch on the soccer ball as he crossed the room, Ken glanced back at Yohji, well aware that Omi was watching the three of them while trying not to look like he was.

It was an indication of just how off-balance Omi must have been feeling, for Ken to catch him eavesdropping like that. Omi had a talent for melting into the background and going unnoticed that none of them could match. It was why he so often did the reconnaissance and information gathering for their missions.

Shrugging it off for the moment, Ken put some faith in Yohji, trusting in the older man to put what he'd done wrong right. It was the only way they'd be able to live semi-normal lives.

"Since Yohji's feeling better and it's been a slow day, he volunteered to cover for us." Ken added, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Yohji.

If he hadn't been paying attention, Yohji would have missed the way one corner of Aya's mouth curved upwards in the barest hint of a smile.

Smirking at the look on Yohji's face, Ken held the door open for Aya as the redhead untied his apron and placed it on its hook. He took a moment to give Yohji a look that Yohji knew better than to cross.

The bell over the front door of the shop jingled merrily as the door clicked shut after Ken and Aya, leaving him alone in the shop with Omi and his guilt.

The younger blonde was avoiding his eyes, the pen in his hand unsteady. He was trying to hide it by resting the clipboard on a cleared space on a metal display stand, but Yohji saw it. It was hard not to.

"I'm sorry."

Omi's head snapped up at the whispered apology, blue eyes wide. There was a haunted look in them, and Yohji damned himself for being the cause of it. He knew, they all knew, how much Omi had gone through, and he was stupid enough to add to the weight on Omi's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Omi. I never realized." The words were easier now that he'd started, and he felt his unease melt away. "I haven't known many people who cared about me or what I did one way or other. I should have known, after everything you've done for me. The way you make sure I get home safely when I'm drunk. When you'd cover my shift because I was too hung over to see straight."

There were a million other things Omi had done for him. Tiny things, on the face of it, that added up to something more that Yohji had somehow failed to notice before. Perhaps he'd simply taken them for granted, or perhaps he hadn't wanted to see what was happening. It was so easy to let himself get bogged down in the past until the present didn't matter anymore.

He couldn't say that, couldn't say how sorry he was because he didn't have the words. 'I'm sorry' was painfully inadequate, and he knew it, but there was no other way to say it. He could drop to his knees and grovel shamelessly in front of Omi, and still it wouldn't be enough. Never enough.

Omi was one of the few things in his life that hadn't tried to hurt him in some way. Who hadn't demanded something of him in return for a favor. Who was always there willing to listen, if Yohji would let him. Who never complained, never asked for anything when he himself was hurting.

Setting his pen down, Omi finally met his eyes, blue eyes flicking over Yohji's face almost desperately. There was something to it that shook Yohji to his core, the way Omi's eyes seemed to see right through him, as though gauging his sincerity.

It was the same look Omi had given him the day they'd met, sizing him up. Checking to see if he would be someone that Omi could rely on when the bullets started flying. Someone he could trust, and it tore at Yohji's heart to see that look again. It meant that he had failed Omi. It meant that somewhere along the line Omi had lost his trust in him. Lost his faith in Yohji as a human being. As someone he could care for and who would care for him in return.

"Why?"

It was a ragged whisper, all that Omi was capable of at the moment.

Yohji frowned, green eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Why what? Why am I apologizing, or why did I suddenly realize what an ass I've been?"

Omi's eyes darkened, wary now of the almost flippant tone in Yohji's voice. He used it whenever he was trying to hide something, when he felt that he needed to protect himself from being hurt. When he was trying to keep someone from seeing too much.

"Both."

Yohji sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the headache started up again, pulsing in time to his heartbeat.

"Because Ken's smarter than he looks."

Omi's eyes narrowed, definitely not satisfied by Yohji's answer. He new the older man was still hiding, even if he wasn't aware of it.

"Ken and I had a little talk, and he made me realize a few things that I hadn't before."

Omi crossed his arms, a defensive posture that Yohji was quick to make a note of. If Omi felt he was on the defensive in this situation, things could go badly if he handled it wrong. That thought suddenly made everything that much more complicated.

"Omi...why did you go looking for me last night?"

Blue eyes widened, then darted away from him.

"Because I was worried."

"Why?"

Omi looked up at him, an incredulous expression on his face, in his eyes.

"Because you're my friend, Yohji. I worry about you. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Yohji smiled, something in his chest twisting at Omi's quiet admission.

"I'm sorry, Omi. If I'd been half the friend you are, I wouldn't have made you worry. I'm sorry."
There they were again, those words that could mean everything, and nothing. The words that he had said so rarely in his life. He'd never before felt the need to apologize for anything. Never in life had wanted to apologize for his behavior. Never in his life had ever felt that anyone deserved such a thing from him.

Until now.

He waited as the silence built up around them, laced with tension. He waited, would have waited, forever if that was what it took to make up for what he'd done.

"Yohji."

Looking up, he barely caught the clipboard that flew thought the air towards him before it could hit his chest. The pen followed a similar trajectory before he caught it mid-flight.

"You can finish up doing the inventory. I'll go over the receipts." Omi said, moving towards the counter.

Yohji smiled, something in his chest loosening.

It wasn't the unconditional forgiveness he'd been half-expecting, but this was better somehow. It meant that Omi was still upset with him, that he hadn't been able to completely forgive him. It meant that Omi wasn't taking the blame into himself this time. It meant that perhaps, somewhere along the road Omi would be able to forgive him, and perhaps he could even forgive himself in time.