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Scene: Food for Your Soul
(Ken)
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Warnings: light rating of PG-14, light/implied shounen ai (AyaxKen, YoujixOmi), some humor, marginal cursing, probably OOC...

Notes: third installment of 'Scenes'. And I couldn't think of a plot. So, we're pretty cliche here. Sorry @_@.
(Ken's POV; italics = thoughts...)

Updated: 10/31/02
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Youji's been gone for an hour now. And the guilt's really setting in...

I didn't *mean* to fall on Aya-- if I'd known he was in the hallway I would have avoided tripping over him. Instead I would have fallen flat on my face, so that he could walk over me, then he wouldn't have been mad enough to throw Youji out.

I fell on Aya.

It's not guilt anymore. No, it's evolved into something more like utter horror. I mean, come on, I *fell* on *Aya*...

I whimpered pitifully, and buried my head in my arms. After Aya had finished washing and tending to his burns (his chest was red, and a few blisters had risen on his hand... okay, the guilt's back), I slithered into the kitchen, found something to eat (I was starving!), and sat down.

"I fell on Aya," I moaned.

The only person near enough to hear me was Omi. He was still sitting on the countertop, although no longer wedged between the faucet and Youji. I blushed, and pinched my nose in case I had sudden case of 'nosebleed'.

Youji kissed Omi! I mean, really kissed him! If I had done that to Aya--

I hadn't. I fell on him instead. I would never kiss Aya, either, because if Aya was smart (and Aya was smart), he'd stay the hell away from me if he, or I, had a hot beverage, or anything else in my hand.

I'm lethal in more ways than one. I scrunched up my face, and straightened slowly. Omi was really quiet.

"Cat got your tongue?" I blinked at how funny that was, then I laughed. "Or should I ask if *Youji* has your tongue!"

Omi seemed to break from his trance at my delighted laughter. He closed his eyes slowly, then opened them to stare at me as if I hadn't been sitting here for the last hour, writhing in misery and eating an odd sandwich. I thought it was cheese....

Wow... I blinked back at Omi, and stared.

He'd been looking a little worse for wear this past week. Dark circles under his eyes, a little paler, more quiet. He didn't even talk to Youji, and he always talked to Youji.

It was scary, seeing the guy sit at breakfast staring miserably into his oatmeal. I mean, I don't like oatmeal, but it can't be awful enough to make someone look so *haunted*.

I talked to him earlier today. I'd written it down on my 'to do' list, right under 'make lunch', but Omi was in the kitchen already so I figured I could make lunch *and* 'talk to Omi'. And Youji said I had no organizational skills!

He should see my sock drawer now-- I've got *liners*!








Mid morning, Omi had been sitting on the countertop on the edge of the sink, swinging his legs absently and just staring into space. He was thinking, obviously. All week, apparently.

He shouldn't think so much, I'd thought solemnly. I mean, you don't have to think about everything...

... if you do, you usually come up with stuff you don't want to think about...

That's what was wrong with Omi.

"Can I help?" I slapped my forehead, and Omi gave me a tired smile. "I mean what's wrong? And, can I help?" I smiled, proud at how good of a friend I was being. I was even stalling getting food, so I could talk to Omi.

Omi studied me for a second, as if sizing me up for whatever he was about to tell me. Seeing if I could handle it. I felt like saying 'I can handle a lot, kid. I'm an assassin!'.

But then again, so was he. Little Omi was a well trained assassin.

Now you see, that's why you can't think about everything, or even most of anything.

You think about stuff that's best left buried, for the time being.

Omi decided I was acceptable (he probably realized I'd never leave him alone if he didn't tell me). The little guy sighed.

"You love Aya, don't you?"

By then, I had found an apple rolling around on the table. A large chunk of it lodged in my throat as Omi spoke, and I bolted out of the chair, clutching my throat.

He just asked me-- *choke* if I love Aya?? *choke gag*

"Ken!!" I heard Omi leap from the counter, and he started pounding on my back. Fortunately, I managed to cough once and the apple erupted from my throat to fly across the kitchen and splat against a cabinet.

I fell back into my chair, wheezing, with Omi hovering over me.

"You almost killed me!" I accused, coughing raggedly. I squinted up at Omi through teary eyes.

"Killed--? Ken! You choked on an apple! It's your own fault you don't *chew* your food!"

"I chew!" I objected. Omi wasn't convinced. "You're the one asking me if--" I coughed again, and felt my cheeks grow warm. I chew my food...

Omi retreated to his perch on the sink. Once I had composed myself, I stood and tried to jump up beside him. I almost slid off, but he helped pull me up. He was smiling, and shaking his head at my antics.

Omi asked me if I love Aya. So... it must be linked to whatever is bothering him. So... aw, I have to answer??

I cleared my throat, and made an attempt.

"Yes." That was all Omi was going to get. He seemed confused for a second, then he nodded, and looked down at his dangling feet.

"Do you think you deserve him?"

I stared, speechless and (momentarily!!) dumb. Omi wasn't talking about me. The question may've been addressed to me, but he was talking about something completely different. Himself, probably.

"I... I don't think love has anything to do with 'deserving'. I mean..." I didn't know what I meant. "No, I don't think I deserve Aya. I l.....ove Aya," I paused to chew on my tongue; punishment for stumbling over so small a word. "But I don't deserve him."

That's one thing I didn't think about too much. Dwelling on it would probably send me on a downward spiral, like Omi...

Omi looked at me then, with the most miserable expression. Like he was lost or something, or terribly confused and hurting.

"I love Youji," he said softly. He wasn't going to cry, but I could see this misery-fest wasn't going anywhere, either. "And I *know* I don't deserve him. I'm just a kid, sometimes. And a killer the rest. Who could love that?"

It was intended as a rhetorical question, but he needed an answer. But if I couldn't answer my own questions in 'that' area, what good would I do Omi?

So I sat next to him on the kitchen counter, swinging my feet and hearing the heels of my soccer cleats rap softly on the cabinets.

My cleats. Soccer practice, eleven o'clock. The wall clock above the kitchen door told me it was five minutes till.

"We'll talk later??!" I wailed from the hall. Omi didn't answer.








Wow, I repeated. He looked... rejuvenated. Like Youji's kiss was the fountain of youth. A sly grin spread across my face.

Maybe for Omi, it was.

Omi touched his lips, and blinked slowly again. His face was flushed with color, and the gears in his head seemed to be turning a little slower, but just as intently. His third long blink was followed by a short shake of his head, and he hopped down to the floor.

"Where's Youji??" He demanded. I shrugged helplessly.

"Aya kicked him out after I fell on him." Omi gave me a wild, weird look, and I shrugged again.

"You fell on Youji?"

"No!" I snarled. Wasn't he listening to me?! .... Probably not. "I fell on Aya, and spilled his *hot* tea all over him and when he came into the kitchen to clean off, Youji--" it was all coming back, in vivid splashes of memory. "... well, Youji was-- he was really kissing you but Aya thought he was attacking you--"

"Attacking?" Omi sounded like he hadn't believed a word I'd said. It was pretty weird... "Why would Aya think Youji was attacking me?"

"I *wasn't* thinking," Aya announced from the doorway.

I whirled in my seat, and decided I need to melt into a puddle as soon as possible, even as my enthusiastic, mortified litany began again. I fell on Aya! . Aya entered the kitchen calmly, and continued speaking.

"I was in pain," he offered begrudgingly. "My judgment... was off."

"I have to talk to him!" Omi shouted. He fled from the kitchen, and I tried to follow, but a hand on my arm made me pause. I looked up, and froze.

Aya was frowning at me, but mostly at the half eaten sandwich on the table.

"That's mine."

It must be cheese. Food for your soul, then, because Aya was going to *kill* me for eating it.



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Note: I read in another fic that Aya liked cheese. LoL, I thought it sounded like a cute idea. Heeh. Cheese. =^_^=;;;
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