Author's notes:

These are depressing times for NC-17 writers who post their fics on ff.net. I can only say I share your anger and frustration. Hopefully, the petition would work and right would be done soon.

I would like to give my utmost thanks to these lovely people who encouraged me to go on with their reviews: Ku-chan, Naomi, Marty, Kamibukurosama, Jin, lorien, Cece, Sardius-chan, siberian, Rika-chan, Whisper-chan, Isa-chan, Chisa Yume, Ash, Deathangelgw, sara-chan, Cerana T Wolfe, Moonraven, lupin, Sasame, Yaoke, kia and Shaylan.

Special thanks and glomps to Keeshe and Lola-chan for listening and helping me straighten out my confused thoughts.

Also thank you to reviewers of Stare, a fic I hold close to my heart: Jin, Keeshe, Ku-chan, Crimson, Cece, SilverShinigami, Triste, lorien, Rika-chan, Ashurei, Ayako, Bess, Ash, gundamesca, MooMooMilk, siberian, chibi-koneko, Sardius-chan, Kamibukurosama, Taline, Isa-chan, Gnine, Sasame;

And also Kinneas: I know that the proper sentence is "kirei desu". However, the polite form is seldom used in everyday Japanese conversations, esp. if two people are close friends. The plain form is used instead, and thus "kirei" without the "desu". Just like saying "Oishii (delicious)". Thank you for taking the trouble to point it out though. ^^ And you're right. Hiragana rules!

Gomen. I know this is getting long. Just also need to thank Yuko-chan and Sasame for reviewing Strawberry and Chocolate. *hugs* And also Ana and Gal for the wonderful gifts.

*sighs* This is getting depressing. I want Kenken. But I don't own him. Nor his other WK bishounen friends. And I'm not happy about it. There.

Ok. Time for the story. Gomen if Aya and Ken are OOC. Perhaps love can do strange things to people ne?

White (tentative title)

Chapter Seven - Emptiness in Your Eyes

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'blah blah' = thoughts

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The scream had him tearing out of his room before he could stop himself.

There had only been one thought on his mind. Or rather, one person.

'Ken!'

It was a wonder that his flight up the stairs had not been heard. Call it ingrained assassin stealth if you will.

But he was glad. He was glad that he had stopped to collect himself before he barged through that door. That momentary pause had alerted him that Ken had not been in danger. It had also alerted him as to who was behind that door with the brunette.

Yohji.

It had still been difficult to get a hold of himself. To not bang the door open and just grab Ken.

He had been shocked at the unnamed fury that had risen in him at hearing Yohji whisper sweet words of comfort. Shocked at how hard he'd dug his fingernails into his palms, how hard he'd clenched his teeth to control his rage, when he heard what Yohji said.

"I'll be here Ken. I'll always be here."

Only one thought consumed him at that time.

How dare he. How dare he!

Nobody was allowed to say that to Ken. Nobody!

Except him.

But those were words he would not allow himself to say. So what right had he to stop anyone else from saying it? What right had he to stop anyone else from loving Ken, when he couldn't, he wouldn't.

He had deflated then, sagged against the wall, suddenly fatigued. In mere seconds, all anger had evaporated. There was an emptiness in his chest. A hollow feeling that escalated when he had heard nothing more after Yohji's statement.

It was obvious that Ken hadn't minded that declaration. The sobbing brunette had calmed down. It had hurt to imagine the brunette snuggled up in Yohji's arms. It had hurt, even till now.

Did Ken like Yohji holding him?

Why did he even care?

'Aiishiteru. Aya.'

The declaration had affected him more than he thought possible.

He wanted to be the one to hold Ken. He had wanted to hold him since that day he saw the bruise on his face. He had wanted to take the pain away. The physical pain which Ken must have felt, and the pain in those lovely, chocolate eyes.

He had wanted to find out what happened. He had wanted to make the jittery brunette feel safe. The not knowing had almost done him in.

But he hadn't approached him. He couldn't. It would have ruined everything he had done so far. All his efforts would have come to naught.

So even though it had ripped him apart to see those longing, confused glances, even though his heart had clenched at the sadness and fear in those eyes, he had held firm.

He had to.

So why was it that it felt like someone was tearing his heart out to know that he might be pushing Ken into his teammate's arms? Why did the thought of the brunette casting loving glances at anyone but him cause him such turmoil?

He was just concerned about his teammate. That's all. He couldn't feel more for Ken. He couldn't have second thoughts now. It was obvious Ken hadn't gotten over him. And from what he'd heard from the tail end of the conversation, he would have to cling onto his convictions all the more, if only to do what was right in an upcoming confrontation.

He had made up his mind, hadn't he?

Yohji being there, wasn't it what he wanted? For someone to be there for Ken?

It would lessen the guilt he felt for pushing Ken away. It would make it so much easier to do what he had to do.

And he had to. He had to let Ken go.

*****

Snap!

An inward curse.

That was the fifth stalk of rose he had broken today. And the number of times he had drawn blood from his fingers was uncountable.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Those two weren't around to distract him now. So why the hell was he so edgy?

It had been hard the past few days, seeing Ken and Yohji in the shop. The blonde had been especially attentive to the brunette, always around him, always trying to make him laugh. Ken did seem to be feeling better after that night though. And for that he was glad. He didn't realise how much he had missed the soccer-player's smiles until he saw the tentative ones he gave to Yohji.

The smiles meant for Yohji. Not for him.

Aya cursed again as he felt himself gripping the broken rose once more. He was tense and frustrated. No wonder. The waiting had been agonising.

A week. A whole week had passed since that night he heard Ken scream. A full seven days of being mentally ready to be cornered by either Ken or Yohji.

It was exhausting, wondering when they would make the move. Part of him wanted it to be over soon. Part of him dreaded the encounter.

Aya closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Ken. He would have to face Ken again. He clenched his teeth and attempted through that action to steel his will. It would be difficult to face the brunette. He didn't know if he would have the strength to hold up, the strength to not go to Ken if he broke down.

'Get a hold of yourself Fujimiya! Stay focused!'

Snapping his violet eyes open, Aya decided he had to move. He couldn't sit still like that or he'll soon jump out of his skin.

So move he did. Towards the backroom. He needed another vase anyway.

He saw Omi tending to a customer. It was just after lunch-hour. And with the first snowfall drifting lazily down outside, it was unlikely that anyone would be coming in anytime soon.

"I'm going to the back." He stated blandly as he passed by the boy.

Cerulean blue eyes turned to his, before the usually genki bishounen gave a curt nod and turned back to his task.

Aya pressed his lips together in a thin line, a slight frown to his face as he continued his way. Omi had been ignoring him for days now. He knew Omi blamed him for the change in Ken. The blonde assassin might look innocent but if anything else, Omi was the most observant of their lot. And Omi worshipped Ken like an older brother.

It would appear that everybody worshipped Ken. Except him.

Smirking bitterly, he made his way into the darkened room, leaving the door slightly ajar. It took a while for his eyes to get used to the dim light. It took a while to collect his thoughts.

It didn't matter. All the better if they left him alone. All the better if he could just go back to the way he was before. The way things were before his mistake. Then he could focus on his priorities. There would be no emotional attachments, be it friendship, or love. They would only hinder him.

Cold mask firmly in place despite the fact that there was no one around to see, he studied critically the line of vases on the shelf. Grabbing one, he turned, only to nearly drop it as he met the gaze of haunted chocolate eyes.

A sharp breath inaudibly drawn. A quickening of the pulse. All concealed though behind an immovable icy exterior. A clenching of jaw to regain his composure. The time had finally come.

Impassive violet eyes never wavered as the figure of the one he dreaded facing came closer. Why didn't he hear him coming in? It didn't matter now. The door was still ajar, but he couldn't run away.

He wouldn't be the first to speak though. Ken would have no help from him.

It didn't appear that he needed help anyway.

"Aya."

The mellow voice sounded hollow. So unlike the soccer-player's usual warm tone. Aya held his breath as Ken came closer. He could touch him if he reached out now. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

"I want to know why."

A quiet statement, spoken softly, yet firmly. It could not conceal the underlying tension though.

Those chocolate eyes, once so alive and warm. Now all he could see was pain, visible even in the dimly lit room. A hint of light danced below the surface though. Must he snuff that out too?

'Why can't you just leave it alone Ken?'

"I love you Aya."

Violet eyes narrowed as fingers clenched painfully around cold glass. No. Not that again. He didn't want to hear it!

"Doesn't that mean anything to you?" The brunette was painfully close now. With his back against the window where a few rays of sunlight came streaming in, he blocked the light somewhat and knew that Ken couldn't really read him. But he could see the outline of the brunette's open, beautiful face, and his tousled brown locks. He could smell his scent of musk and sweat and grass. It was obvious that he had just came back from a soccer game.

'Was Yohji with him?'

Aya growled at the thought that invaded his mind. 'Stay focused Fujimiya!'

His growl was heard though, and Ken misunderstood it. Dark eyes sparked as the brunette hissed through clenched teeth. "Damnit Aya. Give me an answer. You owe me one!"

"I don't owe you anything." The cold answer came out as if pre-programmed. Aya winced at the iciness in the tone himself, and was glad for the darkness masking his features. He couldn't hide the guilt that flashed in his eyes as he saw the hurt he caused.

"Damn you Aya." Ken's voice was quivering now, emotions warring underneath his tone. "Don't tell me it didn't mean anything to you. You felt something. I know it. I saw it in your eyes and I saw it in the way we made love. So don't you dare say otherwise Aya! Don't_ you_ dare!"

Ken's voice was escalating, rising in pitch and barely in control. His whole body was trembling and the tendons in his forearms stood out from how hard he was clenching his fists. Sparks seemed to fly from his eyes. So bright. Were there tears of frustration? Anger? Pain? Sorrow?

Aya averted his violet gaze and stared at a point beside Ken's head. He didn't want to see anymore. Didn't want to look. He had to say what he had to say. He had to tell Ken what he believed to be the truth.

"You read me wrong." A monotonous announcement, like it wasn't him he was talking about. Like it wasn't the sweet brunette before him he was sentencing.

"We did not make love. There was no love. It was sex. Plain sex."

Crack!

The sound of the slap rang throughout the quiet room. Aya clenched his eyes shut, feeling the heat and pain of Ken's palm against his cheek sear through his body, straight to his heart. But he would not return the gesture. He deserved it. He would not say anything more. Neither would he take it back.

A long moment of silence.

He opened his eyes finally, strained violet gaze drawn to the figure in front of him. His heart clenched when he saw the brunette's tensed shoulders wracking uncontrollably. There were no sounds from the man though. Ken would not cry out loud. Not yet. Not now.

Anguished, betrayed chocolate eyes met his. A hint of pleading lurking in their depths.

"How can you stand there and say that?" The voice was soft, pained, trembling. "How can you be so cold?

Aya averted his gaze once more. This would have to be over soon. He couldn't take much more.

"Please Aya. Please don't lie to me like that. It wasn't just sex we had. You were so…so gentle…so tender… Please Aya, don't lie to me." Large brown eyes pleaded vocally now, willing the redhead to tell him it was all a nightmare, all a mistake. That he never heard those callous words coming out from the man he loved so so much.

A clenching of the fists. A deep breath to stay calm. It was so hard. So hard!

"Would you rather I was rough with you? Would you believe me then?"

He could barely hold his impassive tone now. This had to end. He was going to crack. And he couldn't allow that. Not in front of Ken.

Clutching at the frustration that welled up in him, Aya dropped the vase, took a step forward and roughly grabbed Ken by his arms. Voice cold yet heated, he bit out: "Should I have been rough? Is this what you want?"

And he crushed his lips to Ken's.

The kiss was supposed to be brutal, conveying nothing but lust, proving that no such emotions like tenderness ever existed. Aya found himself drowning in it though. The taste of Ken's sweet mouth, the feel of that firm body against his swept him away, and if anything, it made the kiss rougher. He ravaged that moist cavern, wanting more, needing more, driven by the desperation and knowledge that if he had his way, this might be the last time he would ever get to hold the brunette again.

He heard a choked protest from the man in his arms, and felt fists clenching in his shirt, before he found himself reeling, shoved roughly away from that warmth and sent careening into the shelves behind him, vases shattering to the ground, echoing the sounds of the world crashing down.

And then all he could hear were heartbreaking, heaving sobs. And all he could do was stare helplessly at the defeated form of the brunette, still on his feet, but barely standing.

"Fuck you Aya." The voice was broken, anguished. "I love you. I love you damnit! How could you do this to me? How?" The last words were raspy, barely audible.

He could only lean tiredly against the shelves, letting his head slump back against the wooden support as he grasped for his well-memorised, much-rehearsed response. The words came, although all he wanted to do was to yank the brunette into his arms and never let go.

"I never promised you anything Ken. It…it meant no..nothing."

He stuttered though, despite the fact that he was well prepared to utter those cruel words. But the faltering never registered with the broken soccer-player.

'I never meant to hurt you Ken. It wasn't supposed to be this way.'

That was all Aya could think of as he gazed in pain at the brunette struggling to regain his self-control, his head lowered, arms wrapped about his chest. All he could do was curse himself for his mistake that had led them to where they were now.

'I'm so sorry Ken. I'm so sorry.'

He didn't know how many times he repeated that in his mind. He didn't know how long he stayed collapsed against the shelves. Time seemed to drag as he heard the dying sobs, and saw the brunette regain his fragile control.

The air in the room was thick and foreboding. It was difficult to breathe. And his breath did catch when he heard the next question whispered in a tone empty of emotions.

"Did you ever love me Aya?"

He could only stare. He did not know what to say. He did not know what he could say.

'Ken….'

But it appeared that the silence did the answering for him.

Ken finally lifted his head. The guilt and pain came crashing down and he felt himself sucked helplessly into an endless void as he met lifeless, empty eyes. Horror coursed through his veins. What did he do? What had he done?

"Leave. Leave now."

There was no anger in that tone. No hate, no reproach, no sadness, no pain.

There was nothing. Nothing.

And Aya did not know what to do other than obey.

Shakily, he pushed himself off the shelves and took unsure steps towards the door. Again, the hesitance went unnoticed.

This was wrong. This was wrong! But how did it get so wrong?

In a state of shocked detachment, he mechanically walked towards the slit of white light that would lead him away from this darkness. It was over. It was over now.

Cold dread and fear clenched his heart however as he heard the last words whispered by the brunette. He could not help the stinging in his eyes as his steps took him further and further away.

"Goodbye…Aya…"

'Goodbye….'

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to be continued

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I had such a hard time writing this chapter. My fingers kept shivering on the keyboard.

Did I screw the whole thing up? I don't know what got into me and I certainly don't know exactly where this is going now. It's like there's a road map but no landmarks.

So if you want this to continue, please, let me know what you think.

Thank you.