Aya awoke to darkness engulfing him like a shroud. He blinked into it and wondered, for a moment, if his eyes were really open, or if he was still sleeping, but the view of the quarter moon through the window above his bed told him that he was definitely awake. He stared at the ceiling above him and realized that it didn't look quite right. The ceiling in his room was white and unmarred, but this ceiling had a large crack in the plaster directly above the bed. He stared at the moon through the window and slowly tried to put the pieces together. He could remember being in the shop that afternoon, showing Hank around the back room and supply area, yelling for the school girls to clear the shop, and then nothing.
'Wait a minute,' he thought as his mind slowly turned over the pieces of information he had, 'I don't have a window above my bed.' He blinked again and rubbed his hand over his face.
"You finally awake?" Yohji asked.
The sound of his friend's voice drew Aya's attention away from the window and strange ceiling and toward the side. The room was dark, but he could barely discern the shape of someone sitting in a large, overstuffed armchair next to the bed. The shadowy figure was leaning back in the chair, legs stretched out in front of him. The red glow from Yohji's cigarette was the only light in the room, and it dimly illuminated the blonde's face. Aya could see it reflected in the older man's dark glasses, and he could see wisps of smoke curling around the Yohji's head.
"Uh," Aya responded. He groaned and stretched slightly. "Don't smoke in here," he said. His voice was soft, barely a whisper.
Yohji pulled his legs in toward the chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He grinned at Aya and said, in a slightly teasing voice, "You can't tell me what to do in my room." He laughed at the wide-eyed look he got in response to his statement.
Aya paused for several minutes as he let this information slowly settle into his foggy brain. Just when Yohji was beginning to think the younger man had fallen asleep again, Aya asked, "W what why am I in your room?"
Aya could see the red glow from his cigarette move up and down as Yohji shrugged. "This chair is more comfortable than the one in your room," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. He was relieved when he heard Aya laugh in response. He had tried to hide it from the others, but the redhead's sudden black-out episode had really scared him. It had been a whole day since Aya had passed out in the store, and the swordsman had been unconscious all that time.
Aya sighed, and, even in the dim light, Yohji could see him place his arm over his face. When Aya spoke, his voice was muffled. "Guess I surprised everyone this afternoon, huh?"
"What are you talking about?" Yohji asked. "This afternoon funny. You've been out cold for a whole day, my little friend." He paused and watched as this information sank in before continuing, "And, yeah, you scared the shit out of all of us." He leaned forward and ground his cigarette out in an ashtray. "You've gotta start taking better care of yourself, Aya. I mean it. That little jaunt out into the street a few days ago probably set your recovery back by a good week or two. I can understand you wanting to give something back to Hank you know, for what happened that night, but you shouldn't have even been out of bed. Not to mention letting yourself get in this condition in the first place. Shit! We didn't even know you were that sick until you practically had one foot in the grave!"
"What do you care?" Aya snapped, but his voice was soft and resigned, instead of his normal hard, icy tone.
It almost sounded as if Aya had given up on anyone ever caring about him, and Yohji didn't like the sound of it. He was frustrated, and he just couldn't figure out how to get through to the redhead. Finally, he sighed heavily and snapped, "Is being mouthy like that just an automatic reaction to every damn thing anyone says to you, or are you really that fucking stupid?" He shook his head irritably and stood, lighting another cigarette. He stared for a few minutes at the figure lying silently on the bed. Aya wouldn't even look at him. Finally, he threw his hands up in the air, as if to indicate he was washing his hands of the whole thing. "That's it. I've You know what? I've just had it. I've had it with you and your shitty attitude. For the record, I care, Aya. I care what happens to you. I care when you don't come home when you're supposed to, and I care when you pull one of your stupid disappearing acts. When you're gone, when you don't come home, when you disappear I worry that you might be dead in some alley somewhere. I can't stand the thought of you dying alone like that because I'm I'm your friend. I can't understand why the hell you can't just realize that. Why the hell else would I practically stalk you? Why the hell else would I spend I don't even know how many days sitting around in a fucking uncomfortable chair just to make sure you keep breathing? Why the hell else would I always come looking for you when you decide to do a fade out?" He stared at Aya for a few moments, and, when the younger man didn't reply, he shook his head and turned toward the door as he said, "You can stay here tonight, if you want. I'll bunk in your room."
"I'm sorry," Aya's voice was so soft that Yohji barely heard him, but it was still loud enough to stop the tall blonde from leaving the room.
Yohji paused, his hand on the door knob. "It's it's all right," he said softly. He silently breathed a sigh of relief. When he blew up at Aya, he had known that his words might drive a wedge between the two of them and cause the swordsman to completely withdraw, but it appeared that his little gamble had paid off. He turned away from the door and returned to his chair. He figured he had pushed the swordsman enough, so he sat quietly and watched his companion, waiting for Aya to make the first move.
"I I'm not really used to having friends," Aya said slowly. He didn't look at Yohji as he spoke, but kept his eyes carefully glued to the ceiling directly above the bed. "It's it's been a really long time since I've thought that I deserved to have anyone care about me, and I I guess I'm just not very good at it."
"It's OK," Yohji said. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "It doesn't matter whether you think you deserve it or not. There are people who care about you. Me, Omi, even Ken, although he's afraid of you ninety-nine point nine percent of the time." He paused and smiled as he heard Aya chuckle.
"Ken and Omi are all right?" Aya asked.
"Yeah," Yohji replied. "We kept the shop closed today so they could show Hank around and help him find a place to live. They found a place not far from here within walking distance, anyhow. They took him shopping for some things to set up house --- futon, cooking stuff, some groceries. I think they're still out getting him settled in. He was pretty worried about you, too, by the way. You really made some kind of impression on that guy, and my guess is that's not too easy to do, considering what he's probably seen in the time he's been on the streets."
"You you think it's OK? With Hank, I mean?" Aya asked, a bit hesitantly.
Yohji sighed. "Well, it's not going to be easy keeping our night jobs a secret with another pair of eyes around the place. But, I think he can probably keep his mouth shut. I don't think there's any reason to drag her into things now, but, when the time comes, we can clear it with Manx. She'll get Persia to buy off on it, too."
"You think Omi and Ken will be OK with it? It it probably wasn't fair to to bring him in without even asking them."
Aya saw the cigarette glow move up and down as Yohji shrugged. "It'll be all right," he responded. "You like the guy, right? That's good enough for them."
"People I like," Aya said, his voice slightly bitter, "Don't tend to live very long." He sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position, running his hand through his hair. "I I guess that's why I tried to to not like you guys. I guess I thought maybe it would keep you all safe, somehow." He sighed and shook his head as he swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood on shaky legs. "I I don't know what I thought. It's stupid."
Yohji stood quickly to steady Aya as he swayed and appeared close to falling. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked. His voice was sharper than he had meant it to be, and he winced as Aya tensed slightly and tried to move away from him. "I'm sorry, Aya," he said in a softer voice, "I didn't mean to snap."
Aya shrugged slightly. "I'm going back to my room," he said in response to Yohji's question.
Yohji gently lowered Aya back onto the bed. "No dice," he said. "There's no way I'm spending even one more night in the most uncomfortable chair in the world. You'll stay right here, and I don't want to see you even trying to move an inch out of this bed until I say it's OK."
"You don't have to stay with me," Aya protested, but he turned over on his side to face the wall, his back to the older man.
"I know," Yohji replied, settling back into the chair.