Author's notes: Once again, greatest thanks to my wonderful reviewers of Chapter 1:

Jin (hehehe…a straight Ken…hehehe), Sardius (more great FM!), Tschubi-chan (Youkenran *drools*), Lilas (*huggles*), Ku-chan (Kujakku *glomps*), Elizabeth (death fics hurt god! ^^), Naomi (how's Born Again?), Eeyore (*wai wai*), Yaoke (go ::mission:: go!), OminousuRinne (more FR!), and lupin (Happy National Day!).

This chapter is dedicated to ALL of you! And if anyone has an inspiration of what this fic's title should be, pleeeaasse let me know ok?

This chapter has spoilers for when Kenken and Ran first met, Aya-chan, Takatori, and Ran's past. Erm, that's all. I think. Oh yes. I'm supposed to say this. *pouts* I don't own Weiss. *sobs* I'm sad enough already! How many times am I supposed to repeat that?!

Anou…I haven't had time to really go through this chapter as I was, and still am, sick. *sniffles* So please do forgive me if there's any grammatical errors. And gomen if Aya is a bit OOC *sighs*

I really do hope that whoever reads this would take some time to drop me a review onegai? It keeps me going. That is, if you want the story to keep going…^^;;

Read on folks! Arigatou.

White (tentative title)

Chapter 2 - Decision in the Fall

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Autumn.

A time when the earth disrobes her green finery and dons vibrant colours of red, yellow and brown.

A beautiful season no doubt. But with an underlying sense of melancholy.

Is it because it reminds one that change is in the air? That change is inevitable? After all, the trees are shedding their identities. And when the harsh whiteness of winter passes, those that survived would take on a new life, a new strength in facing their destiny.

It is in the middle of such a season of change that a lone, willowy figure was seen walking through a park, flame-red head bowed in thought, seemingly oblivious to the beauty around him.

A gust of wind chose then to blow, tousling his red locks, and whispering an invitation to the leaves to abandon their hold on their dull posts…and dance.

And dance they did. Dipping, soaring, merging, separating… giving their finest performance to the beautiful pair of violet eyes that have chanced to bestow them a glance.

The violet gaze did not shift away as the pale figure slowed to a halt. Captivated, the gaze rested upon a pair of leaves blissfully enjoying their time together in the breeze.

Red and brown, coming together, twisting…fluttering…spiraling…

Red and brown…merging…kissing…caressing….

Red…and brown*…

Just like…

Purple orbs that had a faraway look in them suddenly cleared as the lithe figure abruptly shook his head and tore his gaze away from nature's soliloquay. Squaring his shoulders, the figure determinedly resumed his journey towards a white building* that could be seen in the distance.

There were things to be done, duties to be performed, and nothing could distract the stoic redhead from them.

Nothing.

Because Aya Fujimiya had no time, and no need for distractions.

Because Aya Fujimiya, had decided so…

*****

The staff of the Magic Bus Hospital had gotten used to his presence by now. No one tried to initiate conversation with the brooding, handsome young man as he made his way pass the lobby, up the elevator, and to the room where a young girl lay silently waiting.

Granted, many admiring glances were sent his way, by pretty, buxom nurses whom his blonde teammate would have no qualms pursuing. But not him. He didn't have time for such mindless pursuits. He didn't even swing that way, not that anybody knew.

Aya Fujimiya had gotten used to being alone. Had chosen to remain alone. No one mattered to him. Except his peacefully sleeping imouto-chan he was now gazing at.

"Konnichiwa, Aya. I brought you white roses today." He said softly, going about his routine of throwing away the still-fresh flowers in the vase, emptying out the water, before refilling the glass container and planting in the even fresher blooms.

There was no answer. Only a heavy silence, one that he craved to be broken.

Settling himself in his usual chair, he took the girl's soft hand gently in his slender fingers, cold visage somewhat softening.

"You must be wondering why I'm here today. I know it's not my usual day of visiting." He continued his one-sided conversation, a monologue he was at ease with. His teammates would surely gape in disbelief if they could see him now - indulging in small talk when there would be no reply, yet abhorring normal conversations when they tried to pry him out of his shell.

Running pale fingers through his hair, he rested his gaze on the girl's equally pale features. "I had to see you today," he explained. He had left his teammates to man the shop, once again not revealing his destination. "I had to get away. From them. From…him."

As if conjured up by the words, a pair of dancing chocolate eyes and an attractive, smiling face rose unbidden to his mind's eye. A vision he roughly and curtly shoved away.

"He won't leave me alone, Aya." He stated matter-of-factly. His deep voice was low, even though there was no one else in the room other than his imouto to hear him. Well, not surprising, since he seldom raised his voice, unless fangirls or Takatori or utterances of shin'ne's came into the picture. But even with the one he trusts, in a room he's so familiar with, his back remained straight. No relaxing. Not for him.

But at least, here, he could allow his thoughts to run rampant. He could speak his mind. He could try to straighten out his confused emotions. Yes. Aya Fujimiya was not entirely the stick-shoved-up-the-ass cold bastard he made himself out to be. He too had emotions, although he thought he had them buried under lock and key, ever since that bastard Takatori blew his whole world up in smoke and debris and left his imouto in a state where he could not reach her, no matter how hard he tried.

But emotions were something he did not want, couldn't afford. It would appear that a new lock was required, if the old one wouldn't hold.

And that's why he had come here today. To sort out his feelings, and once more, banish them away.

Aya ran (no pun intended) a hand through his fiery-red locks again, the only sign of frustration he would allow himself to outwardly display. Where to begin?

A remembered laugh rang through his thoughts, as if answering his question. A mellow, enchanting sound. Accompanied by laughing chocolate orbs he could never banish from his mind's eye no matter how hard he tried. Orbs that were teasingly hidden by brunette bangs that caressed blushing, tanned cheeks.

Aya let the image linger this time. This was, still is, the problem, he analysed detachedly. One irrepressible teammate - a Siberian of Weiss.

Ever since he had met Hidaka Ken those months ago on that rooftop, there had been a tension between them. A tension, he rationalised, that had manifested because of the situation - kill or be killed. Simple, or so he thought.

Then at their second meeting in the Koneko, they had gotten into a full-blown fistfight. Win or lose. Turned out that they were evenly matched, and both had ended up collapsing unconscious on the floor.

They were teammates. Teammates who frequently managed to get on each other's nerves. Ken provoked him like no one else could, often luring him into arguments, or riling him up enough to come to blows, though they were always restrained by the others. Ken was determined and stubborn, always trying to get him to open up, always showering him with kind concern. But they were gestures that Aya didn't want. His cold aloofness was what usually irked the brunette into temper. Not difficult, seeing how hotheaded Ken was.

The charismatic younger man confused him. And Aya had become angry. Is still angry. Angry at how the other managed to draw out feelings he thought he had under control. Angry at how he always taunted him with his innocent, sweet smile, goaded him with his twinkling, expressive eyes. Angry at how his every movement made Aya want to lay hands on him.

Ken was all fire and light. And Ken burned him. For some inexplicable reason, Aya wanted to contain the fire within his own hands.

And then he had snapped. That night three weeks ago…he had finally snapped.

Unconsciously, Aya gripped his imouto's hand tighter, as if struggling to draw strength from her limp fingers to continue sieving through his memories…

Omi had been bunking over at a friend's house, studying, or so he claimed, through the night. Yohji was on one of his many conquests again. And Aya was in his room hoping for some quiet reading time, to clear his head from the mission they had just carried out the night before.

And Ken. Ken was in his room next door, blasting rock music so loud it made Aya want to pull his eartails out.

He had gone to Ken's door, prepared for a verbal clash if not a physical one, and knocked. Ken didn't hear him. Growling, Aya had opened the door. Only to see Ken gyrating his boxer-clad body right in front of him, sleek muscles gliding under sun-toned skin, and trim hips swaying sexily to the beat of the music.

Ken had turned then, beautiful face flushed from his exertions, his soulful brown eyes wide in surprise at Aya's intrusion.

And without a second thought, Aya had grabbed him, pushed him up against the wall and ravaged his sweet mouth, hungrily devoured his lips, his tongue, while hands possessively roamed the lean torso he had ached to touch for so long.

When Ken whimpered, what he had done suddenly hit him. Shocked by his own actions, he had left as quickly as he had entered, leaving the breathless brunette sliding to the floor, hand on his lips, staring after his retreating back with confused and bewildered eyes.

Aya had thrown himself onto his bed then, cursing, while trying to calm his pounding heart and raging hormones.

Soon, all was quiet in Ken's room.

It was much later, in the wee hours of the morning, that he had succumbed to the fact that he could not rid his mind of his teammate - his taste, his scent, his smooth skin underneath his fingertips…

He was high-strung. He was tense. From living on the edge? From sexual attraction? He didn't know. But it was a tension he needed to release. And his muddled mind could only think of one way to release it.

And so, against his better judgement, he had gone back. He had gone back to Ken. And he had taken him… that night…

Freeing his hand from his imouto's, Aya massaged his throbbing head. "It was a mistake," he whispered dully, memories surging forth to cloud his mind.

He had expected Ken to fight. Then maybe, maybe his tension would have been erased. But Ken didn't. He had allowed Aya to have his way with him, obeying when Aya covered his mouth with his hand as he tried to speak, and obediently swallowing his moans and screams as he reached his climax.

After that night, Aya thought he would have gotten rid of that tension. He didn't expect it to grow. Didn't expect his skin to tingle every time he accidentally, or so he would like to believe, brush against the brunette in the shop. Didn't expect the unidentifiable aching need every time he met those melting, liquid eyes.

He certainly didn't expect himself going back. Again. And again…

And he had allowed it to go on for far too long.

He was weak.

He had lost control.

"It was a mistake." Aya repeated, louder this time. Who he was trying to convince, he didn't know.

He didn't understand why he was drawn to Ken. Didn't understand what happened to his cold impassiveness.

"Why? Why didn't he stop me?" Aya asked in a strained voice, trying to shift the blame but knowing all too well that he couldn't. Fists clenching, Aya stared at his imouto, as if she could give him an answer.

But it was an answer he suspected he already knew. He had seen it in Ken's eyes. Had seen it in the tender way he looked at him while allowing his caresses. Had seen how his eyes darkened with something more than sexual passion when he silently mouthed Aya's name as he came. Had seen the pleading look in those expressive pools requesting him to stay.

And it scared him.

He didn't stay. He never did. He couldn't let himself get any deeper than he already was.

"It was just to release the tension." Aya spoke aloud the statement he had been reiterating in his mind countless times. "Nothing more."

Because there couldn't be anything more. Because there was no place in his screwed-up life for love. Because there was no place for anything else until he had his revenge, until his imouto opened her eyes, and smiled at him again.

There was no place in his life for Ken.

"A mistake." A final pronouncement, spoken in a quieter, colder, and firmer tone this time.

Taking a deep breath, Aya reached over to tenderly brush midnight-blue tresses away from alabaster cheeks. He knew what he had to do. He knew he had to do it. And from the emotions playing through Ken's eyes the past nights, he knew it had to be soon, before the brunette did something they would both regret.

Rising, Aya cast a soft glance at the still figure on the bed. "Dewa mata na, Aya-chan," he whispered, before walking out of the room, shoulders set, steps sure, once more the cold, unreadable leader of Weiss.

The next time he came back, he would again be in full control.

The next time he came back, he would have fixed his mistake…

Somehow…

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to be continued?

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*In case anyone didn't get it - which would mean that I'd failed miserably *sigh* - 'red and brown' symbolise Aya and Ken.

*I have no idea whether the Magic Bus hospital is white on the outside, or whether it's near a park for that matter. By the way, it is called the Magic Bus Hospital right?

Heya! The review button is right below! *winks*