------
Eleven
------
"My apartment is still empty, Aya; you would hate it."
Aya-chan lay still as usual, giving no sign she had heard Ran. He kept talking anyway, just as he always did, to stave off the loneliness in his life. Lately, it had tripled. He came to her bedside every day now. "When you wake up," he continued, "we can move into a place that has two bedrooms, and you can decorate the whole thing any way you like." He squeezed her hand, imagining her glee at being given free rein.
"Except in pink," he amended. "But I doubt you would do that to me in any case." He fell silent for a long moment, struggling to remember what her favorite color had been. Yellow? Blue? It angered him that he couldn't remember. He pushed it down. "We can live together, like a family, and I can go back to just being your older brother, Aya."
"I miss you." He hated himself for how his voice shook, for how his heart screamed out that she wasn't the only person he was missing.
Ran composed himself and continued weaving his favorite dream. "Once you finish high school, I can send you to nursing school like you wanted. I'll have enough money for that. I'll have enough money for anything you want, Aya, but you have to wake up first."
"You have to wake up first," he repeated, staring down at the impassive face of his comatose sister. "Please, Aya."
He stood abruptly, laying her hand carefully back in its customary place, and walked toward the window, skirting the bed. There was no view, just a small park type area and a parking structure in the back. It didn't matter, because Aya-chan wasn't looking out the window anyway. When she woke up, he would ask them to move her to a room with a better view for her rehabilitation. If there was such a thing in Tokyo.
Ran kept his back to the bed, where the remains of his dreams and hopes lay peacefully slumbering, blissfully unaware of the passage of time and his own pain. He meant to keep it that way if he could. To not tell Aya-chan about his years as a dark hunter, to spare her the pain and horror at the bloodstains on her beloved onii-chan's hands.
The vision of him and Aya, together as a family should be, was just a pipe dream, he knew. It was a pretty lie he told himself when he came here, to help himself believe that her resurrection would be inevitable. He would cease to exist when she woke up, simply disappear. It was the kindest thing he could do for her, considering what he had done, and what he had become. A cold hearted killer had no place in Aya-chan's life. Besides, what was left for him once she reclaimed her place? He would no longer be Aya. Ran was long dead, in spirit at least.
Though he did still think of himself as Ran, for the most part.
But the boy who had been Ran, the boy that Aya-chan would expect to find, was dead. It was impossible to explain to her how he had came to be Aya, Abyssinian. She would never understand his all consuming thirst for revenge, and the awful gaping emptiness that had lain beyond.
It was time to go. He turned back to the bed, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead in parting. He wished with all his heart that she would be awake tomorrow, that he would see her smiling again. It was the same wish he made every time. With a last lingering glance at her sleeping face, he opened the door.
The last person in the world Ran expected to see was propping up the wall next to Aya-chan's door. Youji. What the hell was he doing here? No one in Weiss knew Aya-chan even existed, let alone where she was. All the frustration, the sleepless nights, all the anger found a focus and ignited, consuming him. With a wordless growl of rage he grabbed Youji by his upper arm and dragged him down the hallway toward the elevator.
"Aya," Youji ventured, pulling his arm a little.
Ran silenced him with a warning squeeze on his bicep, stabbing at the call button with his free hand. After a thankfully short wait, the lift dinged and its doors opened in invitation. Ran practically threw Youji in, stalking after him with measured steps.
"Aya, I –" Youji tried again.
He couldn't stop himself. This invasion was too much, by the one who had already gotten so far past his walls. He could feel a sneer pull at his mouth as he reached out for Youji, pressed up against the shining metal wall of the elevator.
The door dinged again and Ran whirled around, schooling his features into a blank mask. He could see Youji's reflection in the panel in front of him, wide-eyed and wary.
Two doctors in white lab coats and sensible shoes stepped in, arguing quietly. The woman gave him a brief incurious glance as her companion pressed the ground floor button.
An uncomfortably heavy silence descended, Ran staring stolidly ahead, Youji making himself as small and unnoticeable as he could in the corner, the doctors shifting their feet nervously. Ran could feel his anger just under the surface, crackling like lightning through his veins, making the small sensitive hairs on his arms stand up. Their companions in the elevator could sense it as well, vaguely, more like a nervous flutter of their stomachs than any real sense that anything was amiss, Ran thought. It at least kept them quiet until they reached their destination.
Youji could feel it, Ran knew, attuned as they were to the nuances of each other's emotions and body language. Killing with someone created a bond that was difficult to break. Ran could feel his bond, tugging him in the direction of the Koneko, no matter how he denied it. It only made him angrier.
As soon as the unwelcome doctors were out of the way, Ran took Youji's arm again, fiercely propelling him through the lobby and out the heavy glass doors. Youji went unresistingly for the most part, casting a hopeful questioning look Ran's way. He ignored it, swinging out around the door and shoving Youji hard against the wall, one hand twisting his shirt, the other still gripping his arm.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he growled.
Youji raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I followed you," he answered.
Ran slammed him against the wall again and the air in Youji's body left him with a whoosh. "Why?" he demanded.
Shaking his head, his eyes searching Ran's face, Youji said, "I – don't know ... I saw you ..."
With a snort of disgust, Ran pushed himself away from Youji. He forced himself to walk away, each step an effort.
"Aya, wait." Youji reached out and grabbed Ran's wrist. "Where are you going?"
"Let go of me," Ran ground out, twisting his arm in Youji's grasp.
"Aya." Youji tightened his fingers, squeezing Ran's forearm painfully.
Ran bared his teeth and tried to ignore the curious stares of passers-by. "Let. Go."
"Not until you tell me why you left," Youji said
Ran broke the hold with a swift violent jerk. He turned away, his stomach dropping at the hurt buried underneath Youji's question.
Youji sighed behind him. "Look, I'm sorry I followed you, all right?" He caught hold of Ran's shirt this time, effectively stopping him in his tracks again.
Clenching his teeth and consciously working to relax his hands and arms, Ran continued away from the hospital, pulling his shirt out of Youji's tenuous grasp. Why did Youji have to be so damn persistent? Why did he not only have to haunt his sleeping moments, but now his waking life, such as it was, as well?
"Dammit, Aya!" Youji took him by his shoulder and turned him in an abrupt about face. "You at least owe me an explanation." His voice was exasperated.
"I don't owe you anything, Kudou," Ran said coldly, steeling his resolve and looking deep into Youji's eyes. At that, Youji looked stunned, his hands dropping to his sides. Aya turned his back again and pushed down his irritation with his teammate. Former teammate. If Youji would just leave him alone ...
"Wait."
Ran cursed the small hitch in his stride. Youji's voice still held so much power over him. He was still so weak, so unfocused from his true goal.
"Who's the girl?" Youji asked, taking encouragement in his split second hesitation.
If he said anything else, Ran didn't hear it. There was a rush of blood in his ears and he turned and lashed out blindly, hitting Youji squarely on the jaw. Youji stumbled back, his face a mask of disbelief, an angry red mark already forming on the smooth skin of his cheek. Ran stepped forward, pressing his advantage, and dealt a low hit to Youji's stomach.
Gasping, Youji let his fist fly at Ran's face, trying to surprise him. Ran side-stepped the punch, but he wasn't quite quick enough. He took the impact on his shoulder with a grunt and in the same instant, shoved Youji forcefully. Youji hit the wall, his head bouncing with a thud, the last of the air rushing from his lungs at the impact. Pressing close, Ran knuckle-punched him in the ribs, hitting with a single minded blind fury. He could feel Youji's hands twisting his shirt, pushing him away. He couldn't remember why he was so angry.
"Dammit, Aya," Youji grunted, finally getting enough purchase to force him away. Ran took a step back as Youji shoved at him, but he grabbed the blond's hand and twisted, knocking Youji off balance as he tried to strike out.
Ran was kneeling over Youji before he even realized he had moved. Youji was shaking his head, trying to recover from the shock of hitting the ground. On the edges of his tunnel vision, Ran could see pain and puzzlement in Youji's green eyes, but he tuned them out, focusing on his anger, pummeling Youji in the chest for all he was worth. Only it wasn't even Youji anymore, it was a faceless, nameless thing, responsible for all his hurt and rage.
He could feel Youji fighting him, trying to push him off, to get away, but he wouldn't be deterred. It wasn't until he felt arms around his chest and he was heaved up and away from Youji's prone body that he came back to himself.
Eleven
------
"My apartment is still empty, Aya; you would hate it."
Aya-chan lay still as usual, giving no sign she had heard Ran. He kept talking anyway, just as he always did, to stave off the loneliness in his life. Lately, it had tripled. He came to her bedside every day now. "When you wake up," he continued, "we can move into a place that has two bedrooms, and you can decorate the whole thing any way you like." He squeezed her hand, imagining her glee at being given free rein.
"Except in pink," he amended. "But I doubt you would do that to me in any case." He fell silent for a long moment, struggling to remember what her favorite color had been. Yellow? Blue? It angered him that he couldn't remember. He pushed it down. "We can live together, like a family, and I can go back to just being your older brother, Aya."
"I miss you." He hated himself for how his voice shook, for how his heart screamed out that she wasn't the only person he was missing.
Ran composed himself and continued weaving his favorite dream. "Once you finish high school, I can send you to nursing school like you wanted. I'll have enough money for that. I'll have enough money for anything you want, Aya, but you have to wake up first."
"You have to wake up first," he repeated, staring down at the impassive face of his comatose sister. "Please, Aya."
He stood abruptly, laying her hand carefully back in its customary place, and walked toward the window, skirting the bed. There was no view, just a small park type area and a parking structure in the back. It didn't matter, because Aya-chan wasn't looking out the window anyway. When she woke up, he would ask them to move her to a room with a better view for her rehabilitation. If there was such a thing in Tokyo.
Ran kept his back to the bed, where the remains of his dreams and hopes lay peacefully slumbering, blissfully unaware of the passage of time and his own pain. He meant to keep it that way if he could. To not tell Aya-chan about his years as a dark hunter, to spare her the pain and horror at the bloodstains on her beloved onii-chan's hands.
The vision of him and Aya, together as a family should be, was just a pipe dream, he knew. It was a pretty lie he told himself when he came here, to help himself believe that her resurrection would be inevitable. He would cease to exist when she woke up, simply disappear. It was the kindest thing he could do for her, considering what he had done, and what he had become. A cold hearted killer had no place in Aya-chan's life. Besides, what was left for him once she reclaimed her place? He would no longer be Aya. Ran was long dead, in spirit at least.
Though he did still think of himself as Ran, for the most part.
But the boy who had been Ran, the boy that Aya-chan would expect to find, was dead. It was impossible to explain to her how he had came to be Aya, Abyssinian. She would never understand his all consuming thirst for revenge, and the awful gaping emptiness that had lain beyond.
It was time to go. He turned back to the bed, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead in parting. He wished with all his heart that she would be awake tomorrow, that he would see her smiling again. It was the same wish he made every time. With a last lingering glance at her sleeping face, he opened the door.
The last person in the world Ran expected to see was propping up the wall next to Aya-chan's door. Youji. What the hell was he doing here? No one in Weiss knew Aya-chan even existed, let alone where she was. All the frustration, the sleepless nights, all the anger found a focus and ignited, consuming him. With a wordless growl of rage he grabbed Youji by his upper arm and dragged him down the hallway toward the elevator.
"Aya," Youji ventured, pulling his arm a little.
Ran silenced him with a warning squeeze on his bicep, stabbing at the call button with his free hand. After a thankfully short wait, the lift dinged and its doors opened in invitation. Ran practically threw Youji in, stalking after him with measured steps.
"Aya, I –" Youji tried again.
He couldn't stop himself. This invasion was too much, by the one who had already gotten so far past his walls. He could feel a sneer pull at his mouth as he reached out for Youji, pressed up against the shining metal wall of the elevator.
The door dinged again and Ran whirled around, schooling his features into a blank mask. He could see Youji's reflection in the panel in front of him, wide-eyed and wary.
Two doctors in white lab coats and sensible shoes stepped in, arguing quietly. The woman gave him a brief incurious glance as her companion pressed the ground floor button.
An uncomfortably heavy silence descended, Ran staring stolidly ahead, Youji making himself as small and unnoticeable as he could in the corner, the doctors shifting their feet nervously. Ran could feel his anger just under the surface, crackling like lightning through his veins, making the small sensitive hairs on his arms stand up. Their companions in the elevator could sense it as well, vaguely, more like a nervous flutter of their stomachs than any real sense that anything was amiss, Ran thought. It at least kept them quiet until they reached their destination.
Youji could feel it, Ran knew, attuned as they were to the nuances of each other's emotions and body language. Killing with someone created a bond that was difficult to break. Ran could feel his bond, tugging him in the direction of the Koneko, no matter how he denied it. It only made him angrier.
As soon as the unwelcome doctors were out of the way, Ran took Youji's arm again, fiercely propelling him through the lobby and out the heavy glass doors. Youji went unresistingly for the most part, casting a hopeful questioning look Ran's way. He ignored it, swinging out around the door and shoving Youji hard against the wall, one hand twisting his shirt, the other still gripping his arm.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he growled.
Youji raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I followed you," he answered.
Ran slammed him against the wall again and the air in Youji's body left him with a whoosh. "Why?" he demanded.
Shaking his head, his eyes searching Ran's face, Youji said, "I – don't know ... I saw you ..."
With a snort of disgust, Ran pushed himself away from Youji. He forced himself to walk away, each step an effort.
"Aya, wait." Youji reached out and grabbed Ran's wrist. "Where are you going?"
"Let go of me," Ran ground out, twisting his arm in Youji's grasp.
"Aya." Youji tightened his fingers, squeezing Ran's forearm painfully.
Ran bared his teeth and tried to ignore the curious stares of passers-by. "Let. Go."
"Not until you tell me why you left," Youji said
Ran broke the hold with a swift violent jerk. He turned away, his stomach dropping at the hurt buried underneath Youji's question.
Youji sighed behind him. "Look, I'm sorry I followed you, all right?" He caught hold of Ran's shirt this time, effectively stopping him in his tracks again.
Clenching his teeth and consciously working to relax his hands and arms, Ran continued away from the hospital, pulling his shirt out of Youji's tenuous grasp. Why did Youji have to be so damn persistent? Why did he not only have to haunt his sleeping moments, but now his waking life, such as it was, as well?
"Dammit, Aya!" Youji took him by his shoulder and turned him in an abrupt about face. "You at least owe me an explanation." His voice was exasperated.
"I don't owe you anything, Kudou," Ran said coldly, steeling his resolve and looking deep into Youji's eyes. At that, Youji looked stunned, his hands dropping to his sides. Aya turned his back again and pushed down his irritation with his teammate. Former teammate. If Youji would just leave him alone ...
"Wait."
Ran cursed the small hitch in his stride. Youji's voice still held so much power over him. He was still so weak, so unfocused from his true goal.
"Who's the girl?" Youji asked, taking encouragement in his split second hesitation.
If he said anything else, Ran didn't hear it. There was a rush of blood in his ears and he turned and lashed out blindly, hitting Youji squarely on the jaw. Youji stumbled back, his face a mask of disbelief, an angry red mark already forming on the smooth skin of his cheek. Ran stepped forward, pressing his advantage, and dealt a low hit to Youji's stomach.
Gasping, Youji let his fist fly at Ran's face, trying to surprise him. Ran side-stepped the punch, but he wasn't quite quick enough. He took the impact on his shoulder with a grunt and in the same instant, shoved Youji forcefully. Youji hit the wall, his head bouncing with a thud, the last of the air rushing from his lungs at the impact. Pressing close, Ran knuckle-punched him in the ribs, hitting with a single minded blind fury. He could feel Youji's hands twisting his shirt, pushing him away. He couldn't remember why he was so angry.
"Dammit, Aya," Youji grunted, finally getting enough purchase to force him away. Ran took a step back as Youji shoved at him, but he grabbed the blond's hand and twisted, knocking Youji off balance as he tried to strike out.
Ran was kneeling over Youji before he even realized he had moved. Youji was shaking his head, trying to recover from the shock of hitting the ground. On the edges of his tunnel vision, Ran could see pain and puzzlement in Youji's green eyes, but he tuned them out, focusing on his anger, pummeling Youji in the chest for all he was worth. Only it wasn't even Youji anymore, it was a faceless, nameless thing, responsible for all his hurt and rage.
He could feel Youji fighting him, trying to push him off, to get away, but he wouldn't be deterred. It wasn't until he felt arms around his chest and he was heaved up and away from Youji's prone body that he came back to himself.