"Cry Ophelia"
by s1ncer1ty
* A/N: Angst, more angst, still more angst. Ken angst, yum. Some hints of KxO. Yes, Aya's still dead. Thank you, drive through.
Ken didn't know how long the incense had been burning, or how long he'd been asleep, but the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was a stick sputtering with the last of its light and smoke. His shoulder shook, as if of its own accord -- there was warmth there, a hand -- and Ken turned his eyes upwards to gaze upon a face filled with something akin to concern.
"Ken-kun, are you okay?" Wide, blue eyes peered down at him, set beneath anxiously knitted brows
"Hunh?" Ken stretched, the muscles in his neck and shoulders protesting at even the smallest movement. "Yeah. Fine. I'm fine, Omi."
A faint breath escaped through parted lips, turned misty in the chilly autumn air. "It's getting cold out. Let's go home."
Ken rubbed his bare arms; it had been warm out when he'd left to visit Aya's shrine -- an empty shrine, since they hadn't managed to find the body in the weeks since the ill-fated mission -- and he hadn't thought to wear a jacket or put a sweater on over his T-shirt. But, although his arms were cold and clammy to the touch, he didn't feel chilled inside. In fact, he was beginning to feel overly warm, sweating, as if he were coming down with a fever.
"Ken-kun?"
Raking a hand through windblown tangles of hair, Ken turned to look at the fading stem of incense, then back to Omi. "I'll catch up."
"I rode here. I've got an extra helmet. Come on. I'll take you home."
But Ken didn't move, instead wrapping his arms around his legs. "How did you know where to find me, anyway?"
"I didn't. But it seemed like a good place to start."
"This is the first time I've even been here, you know. The stone's been up for weeks, but I never came. I didn't bring flowers. Does that make me a bad person?"
Omi finally slid to his knees, resting upon them at Ken's side. He quickly shook his head. "I wouldn't worry about it. You're not a flower person. And, I suppose, neither was Aya-kun."
Ken smirked wryly. "I guess that's kind-of funny, all things considered." The smile faded just as swiftly from his lips.
For half a second, Omi smiled thinly. "Ironic," he said in a quiet voice.
"'sides, enough people seem to have brought flowers anyway. Your doing?"
"I left a few, yes. For remembrance."
"The red ones are yours. Roses. And the yellow ones," said Ken, pointing to two of the arrangements surrounding the gravesite.
Omi nodded, but stayed silent. For a time, he watched Ken, as if studying the other boy's actions, reactions. Finally, he murmured, "Why didn't you go to Aya-kun's funeral?"
Ken didn't answer, arms wrapping tighter around his knees.
"Ken-kun?"
"I didn't want to believe it, okay?" Ken snapped.
"Believe what?"
"That he's... you know. That Aya's truly dead. They never found the body. How did they know he wasn't just... hiding out somewhere?" Ken growled and trailed off, realizing how desperate he was beginning to sound.
Omi blinked incredulously, the minutest break in the calm exterior he'd presented. "But Ken-kun, after all you said... everything you told me. How could you not believe it yourself?"
"They were just words. I knew it -- I knew Aya was gone, but -- I mean..." Ken struggled, tripping over his words, neck reddening in frustration. "Some part of me just kept expecting him to waltz right in, put on that apron, and start his shift as if nothing had ever happened. Because that's how it would have been. Him and that damn ugly orange sweater and a glare, as if we were wrong to ever question that he was gone, or that he'd be late for his shift... or..." His hands clenched into hard fists, nails digging into shaking palms.
"And you haven't said goodbye." Simple, quiet. But enough to break beneath Ken's skin, like something sharp digging into an old wound.
"I don't want to!" Ken cried, eyes far too wide. "It wasn't supposed to be him that went first! God, Omi, don't you get it? He was supposed to be the one to outlive us all!"
Omi didn't say anything, merely stared at him with such a sad expression, one that Ken tried so hard to push from his mind. He reached out a hand to touch Ken's shoulder, and he recoiled instantly.
"No! Don't do that... Don't make me believe!"
"It's time, Ken-kun."
"Omi..."
He reached out again, and this time Ken didn't pull away. Sliding forward on his knees, Omi closed the distance between himself and Ken and wrapped his arms around his neck. And Ken clung back, looking as if he were drowning, and Omi was the only thing there to keep him afloat. Breath coming in stunted gasps, sweat beading across his forehead in spite of the autumn cold. It was too much. It was all too much. When Omi touched his hand to the back of Ken's head to draw him closer, he practically leapt out of his skin.
"It's okay. It's okay." The words, repeated again and again in a soothing litany.
Dimly, as Omi rocked him, Ken watched the last of the smoke curl from the dying incense, the single stick he'd left burning at the grave of a fallen companion, a teammate, maybe even a friend. He thought he might just shake to pieces if Omi hadn't been holding him together.
"Ken-kun?"
"You could've knocked."
"I -- I'm sorry. It's just that... I have news."
"What's that?"
"They found him."
"Huh?"
"Aya-kun, I mean. I received an e-mail from Kritiker. They've found him."
"What? You mean he's alive?"
"Er... Not exactly, no."
"Why the hell didn't you -- No. Never mind. It's not important. Tell me, what did they find?"
"They found teeth and other... parts. Kritiker's DNA testing shows that the teeth belong to Aya. Ninety-five percent certain."
"Oh."
"So now we know."
"Yeah."
"Ken-kun?"
"I said yeah. I gotcha."
"But... Are you okay?"
"What the hell do you think?"
"I think you're hurting. I understand, Ken-kun. More than you probably care to admit."
"I -- I guess."
"Here's the report. You can read it for yourself."
"I will. Later."
"Do you need anything?"
"No."
"Company?"
"No."
"I'll let you be, then. Just remember, I'm here for you if you need anything. Tea, a friend, you name it."
"Thanks."
"Take care of yourself."
"Wait... O-Omi?"
"Huh? What is it Ken-kun?"
"Ken-kun?"
"..."
"Are... you crying?"
"..."
"Come here. It's okay."
"I -- I --"
"You don't have to say anything. Just let it go."
"..."
"That's it. It's okay. Let it go."
"..."
"Let go..."
"Ne, Ken-kun?"
"Mmh." He didn't want to move. At some point, he'd managed to drift into a half-waking daze, not exactly asleep, but certainly not completely awake. He could still feel the warmth of Omi's arms around him, the flutter of breath against his hair. Together they sat on the edge of Ken's bed, and he was just too comfortable... too comforted.
"Maybe you should get to bed."
Ken raised his head, managing a thin smile. He could still feel the remnants of tears pounding in his chest; his sinuses were so thick he could hardly breathe. But Omi was just so warm -- "I ain't tired, though."
"You could have fooled me," Omi said, a flicker of a wince darkening the otherwise soft features.
"Hey, you okay?"
"My -- my arm's asleep. It hurts." He blushed, large eyes breaking away from Ken's own.
"Oh." Reluctantly, Ken extracted his arms from around the other boy. He had managed to pin Omi but good, probably before he'd even realized it. Ken was surprised that it took Omi as long as he did to complain. "Sorry. How has it been feeling?"
Omi shook out his arms, rubbing the muscles in his upper forearms, fingers skirting the area where he'd received far too many stitches after the last mission, and Ken felt another wave of guilt wash over him. He must have noticed hte expression on Ken's face, because his smile turned all the more reassuring. "It hurts from time to time. But mostly it just itches. Especially at night, it really drives me crazy."
"Maybe if I'd been there sooner..."
Omi's voice hardened slightly. "Stop. Please. Now isn't the time for 'what-ifs'. You should know that by now."
"Maybe if I thought about that instead of what has been on my mind, it'd be somehow better."
"I know. But it won't." Omi smiled, and Ken thought he might all too easily break into tears again. The thought that he might be that weak only frustrated him all the more.
"I don't understand," Ken whispered. "Why aren't you mad at me? For -- for Aya, and all?"
Omi's hands immediately fell to Ken's shoulders. "Because it isn't your fault."
"How can you be sure of that? I -- I could have saved you, or I could have saved Aya. One or the other, not both. Why couldn't it have been both?"
Omi rubbed Ken's shoulders lightly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "It was nobody's fault, Ken-kun. Not yours, not mine, not even Aya's."
"What about those fuckers that brought the building down?" Ken said, his eyes darkening and voice dropping to a menacing growl.
"They'll be taken care of. They're still our targets, after all."
Ken looked away, a forced smile lighting on his lips. "I suppose..." he mumbled, trailing off.
"What is it, Ken-kun?"
"I mean, yeah, of course I'm going to do it. I can't wait to rip into those fuckers and take from them what they took from us. But, Omi, after that..."
"After that?"
"I don't know," Ken whispered. "Maybe... Maybe I'm out."
"Oh." Omi turned away, hands sliding from Ken's shoulders.
"Look, Omi," Ken said quickly, "I'm sorry for crying all over you. That wasn't what I wanted to do at all."
"I don't mind. As long as you're feeling better. That's the important thing," said Omi quietly, eyes leveled towards the floor.
Ken shrugged. He could have done without losing it as hard as he did -- the fierceness of the storm, and the subsequent admission to Omi, had left him with such a throbbing ache behind both eyes.
"Trust me, you needed it."
"I bet I look like hell. I feel like it, anyway." A final sniffle, and Ken rubbed at painfully raw eyes with the back of his hand.
"Well, yeah. You do look pretty bad," Omi ventured, grinning thinly.
"You're not supposed to agree with me."
"I suppose if it really bothered me, I'd have left by now."
"I don't think I could stand to look at my ugly face right now. You shouldn't have to," said Ken with a faint smirk..
"I wouldn't say it's ugly, Ken-kun. Actually, I think you're sort-of cute when you cry."
Ken blinked, looking up to find, to his astonishment, a brilliant flush of red spreading across Omi's cheeks. "What did you just...?" He trailed off, unable to find the words to continue.
Jerkily, Omi's hand rose, fingertips barely touching the ends of Ken's hair before they fell to his side once more. "I think that most of the time, anyway," he whispered.
"Omi?" Ken's mouth hung open in bewilderment.
Omi suddenly gave a thin laugh and shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. "No, you don't need this now. I think it's time you went to bed."
"I suppose. Not that I'm going to be sleeping anytime soon."
"Are you going to be okay?"
"Maybe." Ken followed Omi's lead and stood, swaying slightly. Damn, but he was tired. At this rate, though, between thoughts of Aya and thoughts of Omi, he'd probably never sleep again.
"I'll be down the hall if you need me, then." Omi's hair spilled across his eyes, the fringes just touching reddened cheeks. It seemed as if he couldn't bolt from the room fast enough.
"Thanks. I -- Goodnight, Omi."
"Sleep well, Ken-kun." Without meeting Ken's eyes, Omi flashed him a sad smile and fled, the door swinging just shy of completely shut in his haste.
Ken let out an impatient sigh, flopping back down upon his bed. He didn't know what to think, really. He'd known Omi's news about Aya was only going to come eventually, and he'd finally begun to accept the fact that his teammate was gone. He knew he'd have to mourn at some point, and it was best that he do so in Omi's presence. He was the only member of Weiss that Ken would ever consider a friend. His only friend. The closest friend he'd allowed himself to have since joining Weiss.
So why couldn't he get the memory of Omi's fingertips ruffling the ends of his hair out of his mind?
Lay awake all night, thinking. Thinking.
...tbc...