Second Chance
Disclaimer: Nope don't own them, but darn it if I did, I'd share with everyone
Warnings: New charas, AU, cursing, a bit of violence
Rated: PG-13 Just to be on the safe side
Archive: Here, that's about it. If any one wants to, they can put my story up on their site, as long as you e-mail and tell me, so I can visit and check it out.
*Notes* An AU that takes place after the series and Aya's sister has not awaken from her coma yet.
Feedback: Most definitely welcome, flames will be looked at, laughed at, and kept for those long cold winter nights with Aya and Omi (Gets that far away look) *Giggles*
blah blah' - indicating thought
~^~ * ~^~ - indicating a memory or dream
~^~ * ~^~
the man commanded to the dark haired girl. She shook her head and tried to lift some smoldering debris that had fallen on the red headed man. Aya run!
But brother-
The girl's eyes filled with tears and she stood to her feet. She looked towards the opening of the building they were in, then back to her brother. Silver tears streamed down her face and she shook her head. I can't leave you.
Aya listen to me, go get help, run to the police. Now go!
The girl's face crumpled in a sob but she gave a silent nod before she took off, scrambling for the exit. She dashed out onto the front lawn and into the street.
Car tires squealed as a black car spun around the corner and drove straight for the girl that fled across the cracked asphalt. The man heard the noise and looked up.
he yelled, struggling under the heavy rubble.
The girl turned and froze, caught like a deer in the headlights. The car's fender collided with the girl's body and she skidded off the hood, throwing her lifeless body to the ground like a rag doll.
the man screamed.
+~+~+~+
Aya bolted upright, gasping for air. His widened violet eyes glanced back and forth, his empty room was all that met him, not the burning building that housed his dead parents or his sister laying in the street. He leaned back in his chair and saw it was morning, the sunlight filtered through the cracks in the shutter, little dust specks floated lazily in the air.
The man placed a hand over his eyes and let out a shaky breath. It was all a nightmareno, no it's not.' Opening his eyes he saw a brown blanket pooled in his lap. He stood and let the material fall away, not remembering if he was the one grabbed it when he fell asleep. His bed was empty, made neatly, the tattered green backpack placed on the pillow.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he listened for sounds in the upstairs and heard nothing. He made his way to the side of his bed and sat down taking the backpack in hand. It certainly looked and felt old. The bottom looked as it had been worn through and replaced with different stronger material that almost matched the moss green color. The shoulder straps had been torn or ripped in several places and sewn with care with tiny hand made stitches. A lot of time and love went into this backpack when one could of easily gotten a new one.'
Aya cast a stray glance at the closed door and unzipped the pack, dumping the objects onto the bed. A piece of paper fluttered to the ground and he bent to pick it up. A old worn photo of a family smiled back at him. The husband and wife stood behind the two small children, a boy and a girl. The photo was black and white and the edges were charred by something hot. A few drops of crimson stained the bottom left corner as if someone was crying blood over them. Aya let the photo drop back into the backpack and he picked up the next couple of objects; a cast iron toy plane and a tiny porcelain doll.
The toy plane looked like a Bomber of some sort with it's machine gun mounted on the wings. The brown paint was cracked and flaked away in some places revealing the now dull metal flesh beneath it. The porcelain doll had a crack running down it's china white face and the black hair was matted and tangled, it's blue dress, dirty and torn in several places. It looked as though one of the arms were broken for it felt loose beneath it's clothing.
Aya looked at the silver pocket knife and picked it up, he released the blade and felt it's sharp edge, almost cutting himself as he closed it carefully. At closer inspection he saw the initials NK scratched in the handle by a child's hand. He dropped it back into the pack and was about to close it back up when something caught his eye.
The red headed man picked up a small tarnished locket and rolled it in his hands, feeling the smooth engravings that had been worn down probably from the same movements. The clasp was broken and the trinket was permanently locked, whatever lay inside hidden forever.
The man stuffed the things back into the pack and zipped it up, placing it exactly the way he found it, making sure the left strap twisted just right over the other one. A bag filled with memories,' he thought to himself.
From the closed door, a smell slipped under it and rose to met the man's nose. He turned his head to the smell of breakfast and his stomach unconsciously growled with hunger. When was the last time he had eaten, he couldn't remember. One of the guys must be up and before seven.' Aya thought glancing at the bedside clock. He picked up the blanket he had over him and folded it and draped it across the bed before turning to the door.
His hand on the knob, Aya looked over his shoulder at his room. It felt different for some reason, nothing was missing yet there was something there, that wasn't there before. Shaking his head at such foolishness, the assassin exited his room and drifted to the kitchen. He got a little surprise when he entered the tiny room.
Yoshi stood over the stove, frying something that smelled absolutely delicious. She was humming to a invisible tune that played in her head as she poked at the food with a spatula. She shifted to the side and popped some bread into the toaster and she looked at the pot of boiling coffee that seemed almost done, while she kept a constant watch over the stove.
The man closed his eyes, a memory washing over him. A girl no more then fifth teen, humming and dancing in the kitchen, dark pigtails bouncing every time she shifted from foot to foot. She turned and laughed as a red headed man walked in on her fun and began dancing with her.
Aya leaned against the doorframe and it creaked, giving him away. Yoshi whirled around at the noise and held the spatula in front of her. Her tensed body relaxed a little when she saw it was Aya and she gave a worn smile.
Good morning. Would you like some coffee, I just made it. She reached into a cupboard and pulled a black mug out, pouring the brewing liquid into it she handed the cup to the silent man.
He accepted it in silence and sat at the small table. His bleak reflection looked back at him in the strong smelling liquid and he realized he looked like he'd seen a ghost. Yoshi must have seen his appearance for she stopped whatever she was doing and turned to the man at the table.
Are you okay Aya?, she asked softly.
The man looked up at her sincere voice. Her dark sapphire eyes stared intently at him, waiting, wanting an answer that he didn't have. What is okay?'
Something snapped in the pan and oil flew from it, hitting Yoshi's hand that was hovering over it. She gasped and dropped the spatula on the counter as she grabbed her injured hand. Aya was immediately on his feet and around the table, he took the woman's hand in his own and saw the pale skin already turning red. He reached around the woman and flipped the water faucet on cold.
Put your hand under the water, he instructed. It'll slow down the swelling and take away the pain. The woman's eyes welled up with tears but instead of letting them fall she blinked a couple of times to get rid of them and obeyed, placing her hand under the running water. Pushing the long sleeve of the orange shirt she wore up so not to get wet, she revealed the bandage Omi had put on the night before.
Aya's violet eyes caught this and questioned it with his silent gaze. Yoshi removed her hand from the water, shutting it off. Drying it on a hand towel, she pushed the sleeve over the bandage, hiding it.
A yawn from the doorframe made the two look up to see Yoji stretching his arms high above his head, he cast a glance at the two. Hello, am I interrupting something here.
Aya returned to his seat and opened the paper he found in the seat next to him. Yoshi smiled an awkward smile. I burnt my hand making breakfast.
Is that what that tantalizing smell is. This smell's better then Omi's, probably tastes better too.
a voice called from behind the blond man. Omi appeared, his hair tousled like he just woke up. I resent He let out a yawn. He saw Yoshi smirking at him and he tried to straighten out his hair by combing his fingers through it.
Yoji said taking the cup from the woman.
Omi shook his head. I don't like the stuff, too strong.
I'll take it, Ken's voice floated to them as he breezed past them and sat in his chair.
Why can't I be a morning person like these two, Yoji said slowly shuffling to his seat next to Aya and Ken.
Actually I was going to sleep for a little longer but I smelled food and it smelled too good to pass up, Ken said taking a sip of his coffee and snatching some of the paper from Aya.
Me too, Yoji said resting his head against the table.
I guess I finished just in time, Yoshi said, Breakfast is ready. The woman balanced the plates on her arms as she strolled to the table and placed them in front of each man.
Geeze, you made enough food to feed an army Yosh, Yoji said removing his head from the table. I'm so glad. He dug in.
Yoshi smiled, her lips tight. It took forever for me to find everything. She grabbed a pitcher of orange juice from the counter and placed it on the table next to a glass. Here Omi, I hope you like orange juice.
You bet I do, the teenager answered reaching for the glass. His fingers brushed against it and tipped it, rolling off the table. Before the glass could hit the floor and shatter, Yoshi and Aya both grabbed for it and caught it, the red headed man's fingers wrapped around Yoshi's and the glass.
Aya let go and Yoshi gave the cup back Omi. Whoops, sorry about that, a chagrined Omi said, scratching the back of his head as he poured the orange liquid into the cup carefully.
Wow, fast reflexes, Ken noted. Faster then Aya.
I was just closer, Yoshi said turning back to the stove. If I was fast then I would have dodged the flying grease a few minutes earlier. Omi looked up.
Where did you learn to cook?, Aya asked, not touching his food. He watched the other eat with sheer bliss.
Yoshi turned at the question and sadness bloomed in her dark orbs. My mother I'm sorry could you please excuse me. The woman set the cup of water she held down and departed from the kitchen. Everyone stopped eating and Omi stood to his feet just as Ken did. Aya shook his head and the brown haired man sat back down and let the teenager leave.
Man Aya,what is with you in making women cry, Yoji said taking a sip of his coffee. He made a face and set it down. Now that'll grow unsightly hair on your chest.
+~+~+~+
Omi said gently, sitting next to the woman on the steps that led down to the flower shop.
Yoshi looked up and tried to smile. I'm sorry Omi, I was just trying to do something in return for your kindness and then I run out of there like a spoiled child.
No, you did nothing wrong, the teenager said, Aya can be a jerk.
The woman frowned slightly. No it's not Aya's fault, it's mine. I can't seem to keep it together when I talk about my family. The woman straightened herself and leaned back on the steps. I'm okay now.
The woman smiled sadly but jumped to her feet, swinging her arms back and forth. She turned to head back into the little apartment when she was met with stoic violet eyes. Yoshi gasped and almost stumbled over Omi if Aya hadn't reached out and grabbed her arm, preventing her from tumbling down the steps.
Aya you sacred me, Yoshi said pressing a hand to her heart. She gave the man a frown and tried to pull away but his grip didn't loosen.
You wouldn't have fallen, he said coolly. You overreacted.
Omi stood to his feet and took a breath.
It's better to react then not at all, Yoshi countered.
Aya let go of the woman Omi do you know what time it is?
Um no, the teen said, confused from the sudden shift in subjects. What time is it?
Time for slavery, Yoji's voice yelled from somewhere inside the apartment.
The teenager's eyes widened. Oh work, I forgot.
Yoshi called out to the teen. She then looked down at the clothes she wore.
Aya looked back at Yoshi who was playing with the sleeves of his orange shirt, then at Omi's only pair of jeans. It looks as though you need some different clothes. Judging by the way Omi's pants fit you none of our clothes will either.
You could just walk around- ow Ken!? What is with you guys and hitting me, Yoji's voice floated to them.
If it's all right with you, Omi said looking at Yoshi, I can find something down town but you might have to come with me and you too Aya.
Why me?, Aya asked, disinterested in the idea of shopping. You know how to drive.
I'm not old enough to drive, legally Aya.
Take your motorcycle then.
It's a one person vehicle.
Yoshi stepped up between the two. You know it's okay, I don't need anything. I can just wash what I have or wear this.
I'll take you, Aya said, as if he was talking to children. He turned to go back inside.
Thank you Aya, the woman's soft voice called after him.
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. You're welcome, he replied in a grudgingly tone and continued up the steps.
Omi said scratching his head in amazement. I've never head Aya say that before.
Yoshi glanced at the empty doorway then back at the teen. She raised her eyebrows and gave a mysterious smile. I guess I'm lucky then.
*Giggles* What else do you want me to say.
Rae: How about are you going to finish this.
Perhaps. Right now my work keeps changing my shift around. Who knows if I'll have time to finish this.
Rae: (Faints)
*Giggles evilly* I am so evil, just like my giggle.