DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned Nagikins and Omittichi, but sadly, I don't… Nor do I own the song.
A slight breeze blew, stirring the snow from the tree branches and gathering it up to deposit it in his hair. Omi shook his head, brushing the flakes from his chestnut locks. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts and continued his slow trek. Guilt played through his thoughts, tinting every happy memory with its dark stain. He knew he shouldn't be here, but... He wanted to be.
The wind suddenly intensified, nearly knocking him off his feet. Omi looked around in confusion, shielding his eyes from the stinging breeze, and noticed that none of the trees seemed affected by this sudden gale. Another gust blew into him, whirling around his arm and tugging him forward. Stumbling, Omi hastened forward in order to keep from being dragged to the ground by the beckoning force.
No longer perplexed, the boy let himself be pulled forward, though the combination of running and the cold had left him breathless. He spotted the wielder of the wind-like force only minutes before the power dragged him down onto the younger boy's lap.
Omi scrambled off Nagi's legs and collapsed down beside him on the park bench as the other boy hid a smile. "There are easier ways of telling me to hurry up," Omi muttered, winded.
"Hai, but this is more fun," the telekinetic said quietly. Midnight blue eyes gazed up at him, mirth glistening behind their sober exterior.
Omi sidled back and rubbed his legs, using the motion to put some distance between him and the other boy. Though he could feel Nagi's gaze on him, he kept his eyes low, unable to face the other just yet.
Another touch, this time real, pulled him forward. Nagi's slender fingers brushed his chin as the younger boy raised his head so that they were face to face. Slowly, Nagi leaned forward, eyes never leaving Omi's, until his lips brushed the older boy's. Contentment filled him, despite all his efforts to prevent it.
Iie! Choking out a protest, Omi pulled away. Tears filled his eyes, and he hung his head to hide them from Nagi. The other boy's usual composure had returned; the moment of tenderness had been shattered.
Nagi straightened, features impassive. "Doushitano, Omi?"
"N-nanimo," he replied, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket.
Soft fingertips traced their way up his cheek. "I may not have the ability to read your mind," Nagi said, "but your eyes are another story. Tell me what's wrong. Onegai."
He shook his head automatically, then stopped as Nagi's fingers fell away. "This isn't right. We can't- I'm… I feel like I'm betraying h-" Omi stopped, aware of how close he had come to voicing his thoughts. "Like I'm betraying Weiss," he finished quietly.
Nagi looked at him, one eyebrow raised gracefully. "That is not what you were going to say." He tilted his head. A snowflake landed on his lips, a striking contrast to the deep crimson, and Omi was tempted to kiss it away. But, he made no move, nor did he reply to the other boy's statement.
Nagi exhaled and stared off into the distance.
^~^~^~^~^
It must have been the mistletoe
the lazy fire, the falling snow
the magic in the frosty air
that feeling everywhere
It must have been the pretty lights
that glistened in the silent night
It may be just the stars so bright
that shined above you
^~^~^~^~^
Sighing, Omi dropped onto his bed and buried his head in his pillow. His eyes closed of their own accord; he'd remained at the park long after Nagi left, crying, and he was exhausted. Emotions roiled through him chaotically, and combined with his lack of sleep, his head was throbbing painfully.
Nagi had been surprisingly sympathetic, but Omi had seen the glimmer of hurt in his midnight blue eyes that he had been unable to conceal. He hadn't pressed the matter further, though, for which Omi was grateful. Offering him time to think, the younger boy had kissed him chastely one last time before disappearing into the twilight. The pain in Nagi's eyes distressed him almost as much as the thought of betraying her. More guilt filled him; what kind of person was he to forget about his own sister when a someone new came along?
"Omi?"
Sniffling quietly, Omi turned his head to answer his fellow Weiss member. "Nemui, Ken. Can it wait 'til morning?"
"Iie." The door opened slightly, and a narrow beam of light fell onto Omi's tear-stained face. Ken entered, taking in Omi's tears and morose features with a single sweep of his brown eyes, and perched on the edge of the bed. "Doushitano, Omittichi?" he asked gently.
"Nanimo," Omi muttered, turning his face into the pillow again. "Daijoubu."
"Iie, you're not." Blankets shifted and the bed creaked as the older assassin leaned back on his elbows. "What is it, love problems?" Surprised, Omi flipped over to look up at the soccer player. Ken only smiled. "I'm not as dense as you all seem to think I am," he said with a wink. "So, tell me about it."
Omi shook his head, wiping at the tears he didn't remember crying. "There's nothing to tell."
"Aa, come on," Ken drawled. "Can't think of a Christmas present for her?"
"I don't even know if I'll have the chance to get him someth-" Realization of what he said dawned, and Omi gasped, pressing his hands over his mouth. He never intended for that to get out; if Youji knew that about him, he would never hear the end of it. "I mean… That's not…"
Smiling reassuringly, Ken reached out to ruffle his hair. "Don't worry, Omittichi. I won't tell anyone." The brown-haired man reclined backwards again, and the corners of his mouth curled up in a grin. "So, is that what you've been worrying about?"
Drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his head on his knees, Omi sighed. "Kind of."
Ken rolled his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Spit it out already, Omi." His voice lowered in pitch, serious and gentle. "What, are you still worried about Ouka?"
Silence reigned for several minutes; both assassins were too busy staring at each other to speak. Features carefully guarded, Ken's thoughts proved to be indecipherable, a stark contrast to Omi's open distress.
"Omi," the older man began softly. "Ouka's gone. You can't hang onto her forever. Besides, she would want you to be happy. Ee, I know how corny that sounds, but it's the truth."
Omi blinked; he could feel the tears beginning to well up again. The other Weiss members had refrained from talking about her around him, giving him ample opportunity to deny the truth. Hearing Ken say it finally made it real- Omi could no longer escape the truth. Ouka was dead. He was holding onto a ghost, a memory of what had been but would never be again. Nagi was the reality. His reality, if only he would reach out to embrace it. But… "Demo, I promised her we'd be together forever!" he cried, collapsing into tears once again. "She was killed because of me! I owe it to her!"
"You owe her your life because of the your father's actions?"
"She died because of me! It was my fault!"
"Iie, Omi, it wasn't."
"Hai, it was!"
"Iie!" Hands fell roughly on his shoulders, shaking him back to himself. Ken bent over him, brown eyes firm and determined. "You can't blame yourself for Schwarz' mistakes! Ouka wouldn't want you to miss out on your life for her sake. K'so, are you listening to me?"
Wide-eyed, Omi could only stare up at him. He knew Ken was right, he wanted to believe him, but his heart still hesitated. Though he could no longer deny his love for Nagi, neither could he disavow his love for Ouka. Demo, Ouka's different. We could never have been together anyway, because she's my- my sister. I can still love her that way, can't I?
She would want me to be happy.
Demo…
Aishiteru, Ouka…
Zutto.
^~^~^~^~^
Our first Christmas
more than we'd be dreaming of
Ah, Saint Nicholas had his fingers crossed
that we would fall in love!
^~^~^~^~^
"D-demo, what about Na- ah…" Omi trailed off, sniffed, and looked away. He trusted Ken to keep his secrets, but Omi wasn't ready to reveal Nagi's identity. Their relationship was still too fledgling, and he didn't need the added complications of the others knowing Nagi was a member of Schwarz. Their relationship needed to stabilize before they could take another blow, or else they risked never rising again.
Patting his shoulder, Ken smiled again and sat back. "You don't need to tell me who it is."
"I don't know if he still wants to stay with me," Omi sighed. "That was some Christmas present I gave him. I didn't even say goodbye."
"If he really cares about you, he'll understand." With that, Ken stood up and ruffled Omi's hair one last time before walking toward the door. "Genki dase yo, Omittichi. Everything will work out in the end. You'll see. It's just like soccer. It's a lot easier to score when you're on a team."
Managing a smile, Omi rolled his eyes. "Very enlightening." Ken grinned and began to close the door behind him, but Omi stopped him. "Arigato, Ken-kun," he said.
"Anytime, Omittichi. Remember, Youji's not the only one who's had a love life," he quipped, then shut the door, plunging Omi into darkness once more.
He rolled back onto his stomach and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the apartment lull him to sleep. Things always seemed so much easier after speaking with Ken, and for the first time in what seemed like years, Omi was able to think of Ouka and smile. He could imagine her watching over him, shaking her head at his foolishness and telling him to go to Nagi. Images of her filled his mind, holding out expensive gifts for him to choose from to present to the telekinetic as a Christmas present.
Ouka, I miss you so much… How am I supposed to let you go? Omi couldn't help but feeling that she echoed his sentiments. A single tear traced a path down his cheek before he closed his eyes and let the veil of slumber claim him.
^~^~^~^~^
It could have been the holiday,
the midnight ride upon sleigh
the countryside all dressed in white
the crazy snowball fight!
It could have been the steeple bell
that wrapped us up in its spell
It only took one kiss to know
It must have been the mistletoe!
^~^~^~^~^
"What are you doing, Omi?"
Another green leaf fell to the counter to join the growing pile beside the bouquet of flowers he'd arranged. Omi glanced up Youji before turning back to his work. "Making a Christmas gift."
Placing his hands on his hips, Youji looked askance at the pile of white and indigo flowers. "A Christmas gift? Those aren't Christmas flowers. They're expensive. Who's the order for?"
"It's mine," Omi replied, not stopping in his work. He plucked a spray of baby's breath out of his pile and tucked it in, then eyed it critically and removed it. "I have the money to pay for it." He nodded to his jacket hanging over a nearby chair. "It's in my pocket."
The older man leaned backwards against the counter and tilted his head. "A new girlfriend, Omittichi?"
Blushing slightly, Omi ducked his head. "Maybe."
"You're putting an awful lot of effort into that," Youji commented. "Must be someone special."
The arrangement completed, Omi selected a single rose, pink petals kissed with magenta, and placed it in the center of the bouquet. "Hai, it is," he murmured.
"Youji."
Both looked up as Aya entered the storeroom. Features impassive, Aya stared at the arrangement of flowers beside Omi then turned his eyes back to the older man. "What are you doing?"
"Eh, Aya," he said in reply. "Omi's got a new girlfriend."
Aya's violet eyes slid quickly to Omi then back to the blonde. "That's not what I asked."
Tossing a smirk over his shoulder at Omi, Youji shrugged and walked back toward the front of the shop. Aya followed him, but stopped at the door. "It's Christmas Eve. We're busy."
"Wakatta, Aya-kun," Omi said. "I'll be out in a minute." The redhead nodded. Omi waited for him to leave, but the older man remained in the doorway for a long while. "Aya-kun?"
"Keep your money," he said.
Omi blinked. "Nani?"
"Keep your money," Aya repeated.
"A-arigato, Aya-kun," Omi stammered, but the other man had already walked out.
^~^~^~^~^
Our first Christmas
more than we'd be dreaming of
Ah, St. Nicholas must have known that kiss
would lead to all of this!
^~^~^~^~^
Indigo and green lay in a pile on the snow, cast aside for the moment but not forgotten. The blush-pink rose had been plucked from their midst and placed on the gray stone gravestone. Snow fell gently, but each flake that landed on the rose melted and slid off to join the pool of salty tears already lining the polished surface.
"Ouka," Omi whispered. "Gomen I got you involved. Gomen nasai for everything…" Brushing his fingertips across the rose petals, Omi sniffed. "Aishiteru."
The snow increased until he could barely see the stone in front of him anymore, lasting for several minutes but abating almost as quickly as it had appeared. Blinking, Omi stared down at the rose, now completely blanketed except for a handful of crimson patches, and the tears began anew.
Are you trying to tell me something, Ouka?
Sun broke through the clouds, a faint yet still brilliant haze of reddish-gold. Omi was tempted to brush the snow off the delicate flower, but thought better of it as he looked up at the evening sky. The gray snow clouds had nearly disappeared already, leaving behind them a deep pink, as if attempting to reflect the color of the buried rose.
Ano… Is this it, Ouka? Is this goodbye?
He knew Ouka would always be with him, watching over him. No matter what he did, Ouka would always be there- because they were siblings. Even if they weren't, they had a bond that went too deep for even death to sever; no matter how far apart they were, neither was really alone.
Demo, I still don't know…
The wind picked up, a true wind, one that carried another storm on its clutches. The snow began again, whipped into his face by the breeze. A flicker of blue caught his eye, and Omi turned just in time to see the wind tease the ribbon from around his bouquet. He snatched at it, missed, then rose to snatch at it again. He finally succeeded in reclaiming it from the wind's grasp, holding it close as he returned to where he had left the flowers.
I don't want to let you go.
The rose was completely covered.
The bouquet had only a light dusting of snow on its wrapping, which had already begun to melt. Omi carefully tied the ribbon back on and stood, wiping the last of his tears away.
This isn't goodbye…
It's aishiteru.
Zutto.
Omi began walking in the direction of the park.
^~^~^~^~^
It must have been the mistletoe
the lazy fire, the falling snow
the magic in the frosty air
that made me love you!
On Christmas Eve our wish came true
that I would fall in love with you
It only took one kiss to know
it must have been the mistletoe!
^~^~^~^~^
Omi quickened his pace, looking around wildly. He'd been searching for almost half an hour, and still he had been unable to find Nagi. Worry began to set in; what if he hadn't come? Omi had been sure Nagi would be here; here they'd first met outside out of battle, and the site had since become their meeting place. What if the other boy hadn't come- purposely? What if Nagi had decided that Omi wasn't worth waiting for?
Worry escalated to panic as Omi broke out into a run, clutching the bouquet tightly to his side. After all this, he couldn't stand to lose Nagi now. He'd thought the dark-haired boy returned his feelings, had staked his own on it, and he didn't know what he would do if he had been mistaken.
Omi was stumbling now; it was nearly dark, and the trees overhead blocked out what little light was left. He didn't slow, though. His lungs protested and his muscles screamed for him to stop, but he ignored them. The edge of the park was nearing- if he didn't find Nagi soon, he would run out of places to look.
The slender silhouette of the telekinetic materialized out of the darkness before him.
Omi lurched to a stop, nearly falling forward at the abruptness of the motion. Nagi turned to look at him, midnight blue eyes widening momentarily before his features settled into their usual stoicism.
"Nagi," he breathed.
The younger boy inclined his head ever so slightly. "Omi." He straightened from the tree he had been leaning against. Omi waited for him to continue, to ask him if he'd decided, to say he hated him, anything, but the boy remained silent as he walked toward Omi.
Omi braced his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He was cold now that he'd stopped running, and he shivered.
"Baka," Nagi said softly, stopping just short of him. "Why don't you ever wear pants?"
Omi shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but all he could manage was a strained, "Nagi." The younger boy nodded inquiringly toward the bouquet still clutched tightly in his hand, and Omi stood long enough to hold it out to him. "For you," he panted. "It's… your Christmas present."
Nagi took the bouquet from him slowly, almost hesitantly, and regarded it with a mix of surprise and pleasure. Still, he didn't speak, and Omi began to regret his decision to come. Some of his breath had returned, and he was able to stand up straight. Nagi's eyes were still fixed on the flowers when Omi voiced his doubts uncertainly. "You don't like them," he said, deflated. "I-"
"I didn't get you anything," the younger boy said quietly.
Omi blinked. "You don't have to- if you don't want to, that is. Just…"
"Just what?"
Drawing in a deep breath, Omi drew all the courage he could muster. Ouka… "Just stay with me. Onegai. That's all I want."
Midnight blue eyes grew large, and it was several seconds before Nagi regained his composure. He turned around abruptly, but didn't walk away. Omi hesitated, unsure of what to do. If Nagi truly didn't care for him, he didn't want to hear the words. He'd rather just watch the other boy disappear into the darkness so as to have one last unmarred memory of him. But, he couldn't simply stand there.
Suddenly, Nagi knelt on the ground and picked something up. In the fast-growing darkness, Omi couldn't tell what the object was. He craned his neck, but Nagi turned around, a small smile on his face. He held out his hand to Omi as he rose; in it was a sprig of mistletoe. Still smiling, Nagi held it above him and tilted his head. "Isn't there some tradition surrounding this?" he asked quietly. "You are the plant expert between us."
It took a few seconds for Nagi's words to sink in, and even when they did, Omi could scarcely believe them. But Nagi continued to smile, and a grin slowly broke out on Omi's own face. He launched himself at the younger boy, knocking both of them to the ground. Lips pressed against Nagi's, Omi giggled as the telekinetic quickly used his powers to soften their landing in the snow, earning a rare chuckle from the younger boy.
"Arigato, Nagi," Omi said when they finally separated.
Nagi's elegant brows furrowed. "For what?"
Omi leaned down, pressing his lips to the dark-haired boy's ear and whispering. "For the best Christmas present ever."
And thank you, Ouka, for helping me heal my heart.
A/N: Sorry, I know Chrsitmas is over, but this is one of my few Christmas fics I actually like, so I decided to post it. Hope it wasn't too cliché! Review please! And for those of you who've read my other ON fic Vanilla, sorry, but I didn't plan on writing a sequel. If I get enough reviews, though, I might. So R&R!!!