Yohji squirmed around to find a more comfortable position in the chair he had pulled up next to Aya's bed. It had been a few days since the redhead's sudden disappearing act, and, although he seemed to be improving, Yohji was worried that he would wander off again. Consequently, the tall blonde had appointed himself as Aya's shadow, and he had started filling his days by following the redhead around the apartment and flower shop. Luckily, the swordsman hadn't seemed inclined to disappear again, and, since the others refused to let him work in the shop until he was completely well, he spent most of his time either napping on the sofa in their shared living room, or sleeping in his own room. While this operated in Yohji's favor by making it easy to keep track of Aya, it also meant that the tall blonde was spending a lot of time in what he was quickly coming to think of as the most uncomfortable chair in the universe.
'I hate this damn chair,' Yohji thought irritably as he flipped open the morning edition of the newspaper. He squirmed again and grunted as he continued to fight for just a sliver of comfort.
He twisted around to look behind him when he heard a sound at the doorway, and saw Omi standing there, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He waved his hand behind his head and called out softly, "You might as well come in, Omi. No sense in standing out there dancing around in the hall. You look like you're about to wet your pants."
"Oh uh, sorry," Omi whispered as he came into the room. "I'm uh, well, you know Aya he can be a little scary you know, if he's in a bad mood." He laughed softly as Yohji rolled his eyes and waved his hand in the air in a gesture that indicated he thought they should ignore Aya's moods. "Yeah, yeah, easy for you to say. He never acts that way with you," Omi said as he placed a mug of hot tea into Yohji's hand and nodded in response to the older man's grunt of thanks. The boy moved closer to the bed and gently pushed Aya's bangs aside, laying his hand against the swordsman's forehead. "How's he doing?" he asked, turning back toward Yohji.
"Ahh," Yohji said, shrugging. "I hate this fucking chair."
"Then why don't you get your ass back to your own room and leave me the hell alone?" Yohji and Omi both jumped at the sound of Aya's voice. The redhead had spoken without moving from his position on the bed and without opening his eyes. "I mean it," he continued, barely managing to dredge up his best icy-cold assassin tone, despite the fact that his voice was shaking, "You guys are bugging the shit out of me. Always sneaking around, checking on me, making sure I'm sleeping. All you're doing is keeping me awake. You guys are like a bunch of freakin' stalkers!" When they didn't respond, he pulled one of the pillows from under his head and threw it in their direction, smiling in satisfaction when he heard Yohji yelp as the pillow struck the cup in his hand and spilled hot tea on him.
"Oh yeah," Yohji said dryly, sucking on the burned spot on his hand, "I think he's gonna be just fine."
The tall blonde unfolded his legs and stretched as he stood up from the chair. He winked at Omi, who was watching him with wide, surprised eyes, as he picked up the pillow Aya had thrown at them, walked over to the bed, and dropped it on the redhead's face. "You're such a pain in the ass," he said in a gentle, teasing voice. When he reached the door, he turned to watch Aya grab the pillow and turn over on his side. Within seconds, it seemed that the swordsman had fallen into a sound, peaceful sleep. Yohji shook his head slightly and chuckled as he motioned for Omi to follow him out of the room.
Omi silently followed Yohji down the hall. As always, the easy give-and-take between the two oldest Weiss members surprised and mystified him. He admired Aya and appreciated the redhead's leadership skills, especially since they hadn't had one failed mission since his addition to Weiss, but he never really knew how to act around their leader. Aya was quiet and moody, almost the complete opposite of Omi's normally cheerful personality, and the swordsman's mercurial mood shifts made the boy uneasy on the best of days and frightened the hell out of him on the worst of days. He felt like he never really knew where he stood with Aya, and, although he wasn't certain, he thought Ken probably felt the same way. But, for some reason, Yohji never seemed to have that problem.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Yohji asked, glancing behind him.
"Um," Omi said shyly, "Well, I was uh just thinking. You make it look easy."
"What are you talking about?" Yohji replied. He stopped and tilted his head to one side, giving the boy a questioning glance.
"Uh dealing with him," Omi said. He looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "You you're not afraid of him you know like everyone else. It's almost like like you think he's your you know like you're friends."
Yohji gave Omi a confused look and then shook his head slowly, chuckling, "I guess I never really thought about it that way, but yeah uh, yeah I guess we are friends." He leaned against the wall and stared at his shoes, "He's a real pain in the ass, you know a real moody, selfish, irritating bastard. But, he always makes sure we all come home in one piece, you know? You and Ken are usually too scared to even try to deal with him, so it's always my responsibility. And I don't know somehow, I guess I just got to where I like him. I know sounds weird. But, you know? He's not such a bad guy, if you learn to ignore the moods and crap. I think most of that is just for some reason, he's afraid to let anyone close. It's like he doesn't think he even deserves to have friends like he thinks it's wrong for anyone to care about him. Once you realize that I don't know somehow, it's hard to be scared of him." He laughed and shook his head as he turned back toward the stairs. "All this talking and pouring out our souls to each other it's like we're a couple of women. What bullshit. If I'm not careful, I'm gonna start wearing high heels and make up," he called, waving his hand behind his head.
Omi laughed and replied, "Thanks, Yohji. I think, maybe, I'll think about him differently in the future."
"Whatever," Yohji muttered as he descended the stairs.
"Thought you were watching Aya," Ken called to Yohji as the tall blonde entered the front of the flower shop. Omi was right on his heels.
Yohji glanced down at his watch as he replied, "It's almost four, Ken. How could I make you face the adoring crowds all alone?" He crossed the showroom to sit at a table near the front counter where the cash register was located. As he sat down and placed his teacup and feet on the table, he flipped open the newspaper he had been carrying under his arm and raised it in front of his face.
Ken turned from the cooler case, where he was arranging flowers for the afternoon rush, and stared at the back of Yohji's paper. "Yeah, right," he said, with a soft laugh, "Aya finally told you to leave him alone, didn't he?"
Yohji didn't reply, but he irritably rattled the paper a little, which told Ken that his guess had been right on the money. The ex-soccer player laughed again and turned back to arranging tubs of flowers in the first large cooler next to the cash register.
"Hey, Ken, don't pick on Yohji," Omi said cheerfully. He bumped Ken slightly with his hip as he carried a large potted plant past the ex-goalie toward the front of the store. He deposited the plant near the front door and then turned back toward Ken. "Besides, you know how much you hate being in here alone when school lets out for the afternoon." He gave Ken a wicked grin and said, in a teasing voice, "Of course, if you'd rather I mean, Yohji and I could always go back upstairs and leave you alone with your adoring fans."
"No, No!" Ken protested. When he turned away from the cooler to look at Omi, the panicked look in his eyes made the boy laugh. "I mean," Ken continued, recovering his composure, "The girls are already upset over not seeing Aya for the past two weeks. I'd hate to deprive them of you and Yohji, too."
Omi chuckled softly and moved over to the second cooler to help rearrange the flowers. "You are such a wimp around those girls. I swear, it's like you're afraid of them or something."
Ken grinned crookedly at Omi and said, "I uh, well, I guess I'm just shy." He laughed and stared at the floor, as if he was embarrassed, and nervously scratched the back of his head. "I just don't know what to do, you know with all of them crowding in here like that. I just get well nervous."
Yohji flipped a corner of his paper down and peered over it at the ex-goalie. He shook his head, laughing, as he said, "You are so damn sad. And you were a jock, too! Look at you! You're blushing and practically sweating, and there's not even a girl in sight!" The tall blonde sighed and went back to his paper, flipping the corner back up so that his face was hidden once again, and muttered, "Has being around me had no effect on you at all? I guess I'm going to have to put some actual time and thought into your training. Really. You're an embarrassment to all men."
The bell over the front door jangled, effectively cutting off any response from Ken. The ex-goalie glared at the back of Yohji's paper, as if he thought he could burn through it with his eyes. After a few moments, he moved away from the cooler, dusting his hands off on the front of his apron, and approached the customer who had just entered the flower shop. He waved a greeting as he approached the man, who stood just inside the doorway, nervously glancing around at the flowers and potted plants crowding the shop's shelves and the floor. He was dressed in a pair of slightly wrinkled Khaki pants and a black button-down shirt that Ken thought looked vaguely familiar. He stared at it for a few moments before he realized that it looked like one of Aya's shirts. The man was also wearing a khaki-colored cap, which he had taken off to reveal short brown hair that was lightly flecked with gray, and he was clean-shaven. He shifted from foot to foot, nervously wringing the cap in his hands.
"Hi," Ken said, approaching the man and bowing slightly. "Welcome. Can I help you?"
"Oh, hi," the man replied. He also bowed slightly and smiled a smile that seemed to consume his entire face and revealed piercing gold-brown eyes and slightly crooked teeth.
Ken couldn't help but smile in return. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"
"Um well, yeah. I'm uh, I'm looking for someone," the man replied, still wringing the cap in nervous hands. "Is um, is Ran here?"
Omi popped up from behind the front counter to stare at the man when he heard the question. It wasn't often that someone came into the shop asking for Aya by his real name. In fact, the boy couldn't ever remember anyone coming into the shop and asking for Aya by that name; people seldom came into the shop looking for the redhead at all. He glanced nervously over at Yohji, who had flipped the corner of his newspaper down again and was staring over it at the man.
The man looked at the three people staring intently at him and started to back toward the door. He was getting the distinct feeling he had done something wrong, but he couldn't figure out exactly what. These guys were starting to make him a little nervous, and he cleared his throat as he said, "Um maybe maybe I got the wrong address."
When the man was almost to the door, Yohji looked over his shoulder toward the doorway leading to the back of the shop and the apartment they all shared. Without putting his paper down, he cleared his throat and yelled at the top of his lungs, "AAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAA! SOMEONE'S HERE TO SEE YOU!" He smiled at Ken and Omi, who had both jumped in surprise when he yelled, and flipped the paper back up to obscure his face once more. After a moment, he flipped the paper's corner back down and glanced at the man again, "Nice shoes, by the way."
The man laughed in response, and said, "Thanks. They were a gift."
Yohji motioned to one of the other empty chairs at the table, indicating that the man should sit, and, before he went back to reading his paper, he looked over at Omi and Ken, who were both standing by the counter now, and said, "Stop staring, you guys. Geez, no wonder we don't have any customers."
As the man sat down, Omi sidled over to Yohji and whispered in his ear, "Yohji, you sure this is a good idea? I mean, maybe this guy is after Aya or something. You sure it's safe?"
Yohji sighed and, with a few gestures that spoke volumes of irritation, he folded the paper and laid it on the table in front of him. He rolled his eyes at Omi and said, "Gee, why don't you say it a little louder? I mean, probably the people out on the street didn't hear you." He sighed and waved his hand from the man sitting next to him toward Omi and then Ken, saying, "This is Hank. Hank, this is Omi our resident housemother and worry wart. And, that's Ken." He pulled a package of cigarettes out of his pocket and removed two of them. He offered one to Hank, who nodded his thanks and pulled a lighter from his pocket to light, first, his cigarette, and, then, Yohji's. The tall blonde took a long drag from the cigarette and then removed it from his mouth and rolled it between his index finger and thumb as he watched his two teammates, who were both standing in front of the counter now, still staring at Hank. He sighed, "Geez. You two made of stone? Hank is a friend of Aya's. He came here for a job."
A loud thumping coming from the back room of the shop, followed by a muttered, "Who the fuck put this damn plant here?" interrupted Omi's next statement. The boy turned just as Aya came stumbling into the room, rubbing his shin. He looked rumpled and irritable, and it was obvious he had suddenly been awakened from a very sound sleep. He stretched and yawned as he snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you, Yohji? First you follow me around constantly, and now you're yelling loud enough to wake the dead."
"Don't know about the dead," Yohji replied calmly as he unfolded the paper and rattled it back into place in front of his face, "But, it was enough to wake you up. Someone's here for you."
"Huh?" Aya asked. He looked from Yohji to the man across the table from him, as if just noticing him for the first time, and blinked in confusion. The man seemed slightly familiar, but he couldn't quite place him. When the man smiled a greeting, though, all the puzzle pieces fell into place for him, and he grinned and stepped forward to shake the man's hand and thump him enthusiastically on the back as he said, "Hey! Hank! You look great! So, what're you doing here?"
"Yohji told me I could uh, come by if I wanted a job," Hank replied hesitantly. He continued smiling, but his eyes glanced nervously from Aya over to Omi and Ken, who were still staring in confusion at the scene playing out before them.
"Oh, yeah?" Aya asked. "That's a great idea. Come on in the back, and I'll show you where we keep everything." He glanced down at his watch, and then continued, "In a few minutes, you're not going to want to be out here, anyhow." In response to Hank's questioning look, he shook his head and said, "Don't even ask." As he passed by Omi and Ken, who were standing, shoulder-to-shoulder, in front of the counter staring at him with open mouths, he snapped, "What the fuck is wrong with you two? You guys meet Hank?" When they nodded mutely, Aya shook his head and muttered, "Idiots," as he motioned for Hank to follow him into the back room.
Omi and Ken turned, almost in unison, to watch Aya and Hank leave the room. "That was weird," Omi whispered to Ken.
"Yeah," Ken replied, "Very, very weird." He looked up toward the shop's front door as the bell jangled again and a large group of giggling, chattering school girls walked into the shop, suddenly filling it with noise. They were all wearing the uniform for one of the girls' schools a few blocks away, which was, normally, the first school to dismiss students at the end of the day. Ken groaned and muttered, almost under his breath, "Ugh. They're here."
One of the girls spotted him, and called, "Look! There he is! It's Ken! Ken!" She waved at him, and, when he waved back, it was as if he had given a signal to open the floodgates. Within seconds, a crowd of girls had surrounded him, each one of them reaching and jumping over her companions in an effort to grab at his sleeve or apron. They were all talking at once, and their voices continued to get louder and louder as they struggled to be heard over the girls around them, until they had reached an almost deafening level as they asked Ken for roses, or potted plants, or the perfect gift for a friend or boyfriend. The ex-goalie continued to back away from the crowd, until his back was against the counter, preventing further retreat. He glanced over toward Omi, as if the boy would be able to rescue him, but Omi was similarly occupied with his own adoring group of girls.
"Yohji," Ken called to the tall blonde, who was still sitting at the table, reading his paper, a small island of calm in the middle of a chaotic sea of humanity. "You could help, you know."
Yohji never looked away from the paper, but he replied, "Sadly, they are all too young for me."
********************************************************
Although it had been weeks since that last mission, Aya hadn't completely recovered. His fever still came and went, even though it wasn't as high as before, and he still had a shuddering, hacking cough that seemed to come straight from the bottom of his lungs. To top it all off, he couldn't seem to get enough sleep or shake the dizzy spells that seemed to overtake him on a moment's notice. It was taking him a lot longer to heal than he thought it should, and he hated his own weakness. Consequently, Aya didn't have any desire to face the throngs of school girls crowding into the store. As one school after another ended classes for the day, more and more girls flocked to the store and the noise from outside continued to rise until it reached an almost-deafening roar that forced Aya to raise his voice in order to be heard over the din in the front room. After about two hours, he was practically yelling at Hank, who kept glancing nervously from Aya's obviously irritated expression to the door behind them, as if he could spot the unseen source of the continually escalating noise. Finally, Aya sighed heavily and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly between his index finger and thumb.
"Hey," Hank asked, moving closer to the redhead to be heard above the noise in the shop, "You all right? I could go get someone." He peered at the younger man in concern and was just about to go back to the front of the shop to get Yohji when Aya shook his head and waved his hand slightly to indicate he was okay.
"No I'm fine. I I just have a headache," Aya replied. He gave Hank a weak smile, and then muttered, almost under his breath, "Shit. I can't take this." He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders as if he was preparing to meet a very unfriendly and tough foe, and then he slowly stalked toward the door leading to the store's front room.
"IF YOU'RE NOT BUYING ANYTHING, THEN LEAVE!"
Aya's deep voice cut through the noise in the shop like a sharp knife, almost immediately silencing most of the chattering and giggling. The Weiss leader stood behind the cash register, arms crossed across his chest, and glared daggers at the girls crowding around Ken and Omi. His angry words were enough to cause most of them to skitter out the door and cluster near the store's front windows to peer inside at the four handsome florists. As they ran past his table, Yohji could hear most of them muttering excitedly about finally catching a glimpse of Aya after his prolonged absence from the store. The remaining girls, most of whom were members of Aya's little fan club to begin with, all rushed, almost in unison, toward the front counter to cluster around the irritated redhead, just as they had with Omi and Ken. They pushed and shoved at each other in an attempt to get close enough to reach across the counter to touch the swordsman, and they all seemed to be talking at once, asking Aya where he had been, how he was, if he was feeling better, and if he was finally coming back to work in the store.
Yohji watched the swordsman out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to read his paper. He could tell that Aya hadn't been ready for the sudden onslaught. The redhead's violet-blue eyes widened, and Yohji saw him start to back away from the counter, as if he intended to retreat into the back room to escape his adoring fans. Suddenly, the older man saw the color completely drain from Aya's face, and the swordsman gripped the front counter as a wave of dizziness seemed to come over him. One look at his ghostly pale face, the white knuckles gripping the counter as if it was his only life line, and the way his body started to tremble was enough to cause Yohji to break his paper-reading façade. The tall blonde was on his feet and across the floor space separating him from Aya within seconds. He placed himself behind the counter and cash register, almost shoulder-to-shoulder with the younger man, and he felt Aya's body sag slightly against his.
"THAT'S IT! WE'RE CLOSED! EVERYONE OUT!" Yohji yelled, struggling to be heard above the noise.
He motioned to Omi and Ken, both of whom had moved back to the flower coolers to assist the few paying customers in the shop, to start ushering the school girls out of the store. The two youngest Weiss members hadn't been paying any attention to what was happening with their leader, and Omi nodded in wide-eyed understanding as soon as he got a good look at Aya. The boy whispered something to Ken, and the ex-goalie immediately started to herd the shocked fangirls toward the door. Within minutes, Ken had managed to completely clear the shop, while Omi rang up the last few customers' purchases. Yohji sighed, relieved at the sudden absence of noise in the store.
"Man! I've never seen anything like that," Hank said. The sound of his voice caused Yohji to jump slightly; he had completely forgotten that the man was there, and he turned to give Hank, who had been standing in the doorway to the back room, watching the scene with the schoolgirls, with an easy, crooked grin covering his face. Hank laughed softly and shook his head. "Is it always like that?" he asked.
Before Yohji could reply, Omi, who was checking out the final customer of the day, commented flatly, "Only on school days." He smiled at the customer as he handed the flowers across the counter and said, "Thanks. Please come again soon."
Hank laughed slightly in response to Omi's tone. He leaned against the doorjamb and said, "You guys sound like you don't like the attention. I know guys, back home, who'd pay good money if you could bottle whatever it is you fellas have that attracts so much female attention."
In response to Omi and Ken's confused looks, Yohji commented, "Hank's from Texas", as if that explained everything. He turned back toward Hank and said, "Omi, Ken, and Aya aren't too crazy about all the attention. For my part, I don't mind." He sighed wistfully as he looked toward the ceiling, "If only they were older."
The sudden feeling of a heavy weight against him, causing him to stumble slightly to one side, brought Yohji's attention back to Aya. "Hey," he said, grabbing the redhead's shoulders to hold him upright, "You all right?" He ducked his head slightly to peer closely at Aya's face and frowned in concern. Yohji looked up to make eye contact with Omi and Ken, who had come to stand slightly behind Aya and were both watching their leader with worried looks, and said, softly, "Get him some water, OK?"
"Yeah," Omi replied. He darted off into the back of the store.
Yohji looked at Ken and said, "Finish closing up. Hank's going to work here from now on, so he'll help you. It'll be a good way for him to learn how to do it."
"Sure," Ken said. He moved toward the front of the store, motioning for Hank to follow him. The older man nodded and silently moved off behind Ken, leaving Yohji and Aya alone behind the counter.
"Aya!" Yohji hissed. He shook the younger man slightly until he managed to draw Aya's attention. "Are you all right?"
Aya nodded and replied, "I I'm fine. I I'm just a little dizzy " His voice trailed off as his knees buckled, taking them both to the floor, and darkness rushed in all around him.