CHAPTER 6

Aya slowly came awake, acutely aware he was being stared at intently. Forcing his eyes open was, apparently, a long, drawn-out process containing more than a few kinks. It had seemed like a simple enough idea when his brain had whispered it to him, but he couldn't get his body to respond to his brain's demands. He didn't like the idea of being stared at, but the darkness surrounding him seemed a preferable alternative to arguing with his stubborn body. He felt like he had been enveloped in it for a long time, and it was warm, safe, and comfortable as it beckoned to him with soft, reassuring fingers. He wanted to go back there, to keep his eyes closed and give in to his body's demands for rest. Besides, he rationalized, his recent past history, added to the fact he felt like he'd been run over by a cement truck or something, meant it was probably only Yohji staring at him. For some reason, the thought of the tall blonde watching him didn't bother him all that much.

Aya had almost convinced his brain to give up on the idea of opening his eyes when something cold and wet splashed onto his face. The unpleasant sensation banished all thoughts of rest from his mind, and he forced his eyes open, only to be met with total and complete black. At first, he panicked, his befuddled, frazzled mind thinking he'd gone blind, but, then, the blackness moved a bit. Aya squinted and, after some effort, managed to focus in on the dark mass hovering above him. It turned out to be a large, square, drooling head, with floppy ears and two deep-set, yellow eyes.

"Bubba," Aya croaked, his voice hoarse, and his throat sore.

The big dog was standing on the bed, straddling him and looking down into Aya's face expectantly, dog nose just inches away from human nose. His floppy little ears were cocked forward, as if he anticipated some huge, exciting activity at any moment, and he was drooling liberally. A long string of doggy slobber hung from one side of his mouth, but, at the mention of his name, Bubba wagged his tail and shook his head, scattering the drool all around the tiny room. He leaned in closer to Aya and licked the redhead, liberally coating his face with drool. Aya waved his hand weakly in a miserably inadequate effort to shoo the dog away.

Finally, Aya sighed and gave up on moving Bubba off of him. The dog was too big and heavy, and he felt too weak to force the animal off of the bed. Besides, Bubba was terribly excited at seeing his person finally awake, and Aya had learned, early on, the best thing to do in such a situation was ride the excitement out. It would pass, eventually --- hopefully, before he drowned in doggy drool. At least the animal was standing, instead of lying on top of him. His body felt so achy and tender, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to stand the extra weight. Aya placed his arm across his face, maneuvering it around Bubba's head and tongue to do so, thereby affording him a little protection from the big dog's affection. He cringed as the licking continued, until slobber and drool practically dripped from his arm. It made him want to bolt out of bed and right into the shower.

"What the hell?" Yohji's voice cut through the quiet, little room, immediately drawing Bubba's attention away from Aya. The tall blonde crossed from the doorway to the bed in two strides, and angrily pulled at the dog's collar, "Get the hell offa there! You trying to crush him or what? Stupid dog."

Bubba gave an unhappy little sound, a cross between a huff and a grunt, but, thankfully, he acquiesced in Yohji's request and jumped off of the bed, landing with a heavy, solid thud. He paused long enough to sit in the middle of the floor, commandeering the tiny room's limited empty space long enough to leisurely scratch behind his ears, which caused his tags to jingle madly. With that task done, Bubba returned to the bed, placed his front paws on it, and leaned over Aya to retrieve his bone. Then, he turned and trotted out of the room without a backward glance.

"Stupid dog," Yohji repeated, shaking his head as he sank into the chair next to the bed. His seated vantage point made him aware of a tired, slightly-dazed, blue-violet eye peering at him from underneath Aya's arm, and he leaned forward, asking, "Awake?"

Aya moved his arm away from his face and stared at the ceiling directly above the bed, as he replied, in a hoarse voice, "Hnh." He cleared his throat, and then continued, as he wiped his wet arm on the bed sheets, "Yeah I think so."

Yohji smiled. Relief surged through his body, making him painfully aware of exactly how exhausted he was. He hadn't realized it until just now, but the past two weeks had taken a huge mental and physical toll. He took a sip of coffee before asking, "Hungry?"

When Aya nodded in response, Yohji stood and turned to leave, calling out behind him, "I'll make you some soup, OK? Be right back."

Left alone in the small room, Aya struggled to remember what had happened and where he was. He didn't recognize this place, and that frightened him. But, Yohji was near. The tall blonde's familiar presence was comforting, and Aya told himself there must not be any danger. Yohji wouldn't let anything happen to him. No matter how hard he thought about it, though, Aya couldn't remember coming here. He couldn't remember anything after Yohji had walked in on him while he was preparing to flee the flower shop. He could hear Yohji moving around, and it sounded like he wasn't too far away, a fact which Aya found comforting, and which also told him this place --- wherever they were --- was probably not very big. This room was certainly pretty small. But, even more troubling than not being able to remember where he was or how he got here, it seemed as if everything was swaying. Aya couldn't decide whether he was dizzy, or if the place really was moving. He shook his head slightly, grimacing at the pain the small movement caused, and decided it was stupid to think the building they were in was swaying. It was most likely due to his injuries, which, from the way he felt, must have been pretty severe.

Within a few minutes, Yohji returned with a steaming cup, which he set down on the chest-of-drawers near the door. He crossed over to Aya's side and asked, "Want me to help you sit up?"

Aya nodded, and Yohji pulled him into a sitting position. He leaned heavily against the older man's chest, too tired and weak to push away, as the blonde arranged pillows along the wall behind him, like a make-shift chair back. Then, he gently eased back until he was sitting up, leaning against the pillows for support.

Aya closed his eyes for a moment. The swaying motion and sitting up were both making him dizzy, and he struggled to regain some equilibrium, while Yohji watched him worriedly. Finally, he opened his eyes, blinking a few times, and gave the tall blonde a half-hearted smile.

Yohji smiled back and crossed over to the dresser to retrieve the cup. "Hope this is OK," he said, as he sat back down in the chair and held the cup out to Aya. "Careful, it's really hot. I think I got a little over zealous with the microwave but, I never was the best cook, you know."

Aya gave a half-smile in response to Yohji's little joke. He reached out to take the cup, nodding his thanks at Yohji when the tall blonde steadied his shaking hands.

"It's OK now. I've got it," he mumbled, when he finally managed to get a good grip on the cup.

Yohji released his hold on Aya's hands and leaned back, watching as his friend tentatively sipped at the hot soup.

After a few moments, Yohji asked, in a hesitant voice, "Feeling all right?"

"Yes," Aya replied. Then, he shook his head and said, "Well, no not really." In response to the worried question he saw in Yohji's eyes, he said, "Everything everything's swaying back and forth."

Yohji surprised Aya by laughing. "It's OK," he said, when he finally managed to find his voice, "We're on a boat."

Aya's eyes widened slightly as comprehension of Yohji's statement sank in. Finally, he said, "Oh," and returned to silently sipping his soup. After a few moments, he peered at his companion over the rim of the cup and commented, "You look like shit, Yohji. Are you all right?"

Yohji laughed again, and ran his fingers through his hair as he said, "I could say the same for you." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and the look on his face became instantly serious as he said, in a quiet voice, "Damn, you scared me, Aya. I I really didn't think you were going to make it, this time. I really didn't."

Aya stared at Yohji, shocked by the fear he heard in the older man's voice. Finally, he asked, "What happened?"

"You remember getting shot by Kritiker?" Yohji asked. When Aya nodded, the blonde continued, "After you went back to the shop and I found you in your room, I grabbed my stuff and left with you. We didn't get very far before you collapsed. I I hadn't even realized you were hurt not until then. I didn't know where to go. I mean, since it was Kritiker we were running away from, all the safe houses were off limits, and so were the hospitals, so I took you to Hank's apartment."

He saw the look of panic that flickered through Aya's eyes, and waved his hand through the air between them as he reassured, "Don't worry. I didn't hurt him. I wanted to, but I didn't. I did make him help me, though --- sent him out to steal the medical supplies I needed. Because, of course, while you managed to remember to grab your damn sword, you didn't take one of the medical kits. Shit, Aya! I'll never understand how your mind works oh, sure, when you've been shot and are bleeding to death, you're really gonna need a shiny, pointy piece of metal but, bandages, antibiotics, stuff like that no way!"

He smiled as Aya shrugged off his little attempt to lighten the mood by joking. "Anyhow," he said, looking at the floor, "the bullet wound was bad worse than I had expected a real mess. The bullet had broken up when it hit your ribs, and there were pieces of it everywhere. I dug them all out and patched you up the best I could. We stayed there for a couple of days, but I was worried Kritiker would catch up to us because his place is so close to the shop. Hank knew this guy he used to work for, you know, when he lived on the streets. Anyhow, this guy isn't exactly on the straight and narrow, which, in my opinion is probably a good thing, considering our current situation, and he had a boat. He told Hank we could use it. So, here we are, anchored at sea, away from the city. But, then I don't know everything just got worse. Your wound and the injuries from that fight with Schuldich got infected and "

His voice trailed off as he struggled to keep it from shaking. When he managed to get it under control, he continued, "You were so damn sick high fever, hallucinations, the whole damn thing. Shit, I don't think I've ever been that scared in my fucking life. I've seen you hurt before, but not like this you almost died. Two, maybe even three times, I thought, 'This is it.' But, somehow, you managed to pull through."

Aya stared down into his soup. "You should have let me," he said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

"Shoulda let you what?" Yohji asked.

"Die," Aya replied, still, without looking the other man in the eye. "You should have let me die."

Yohji stared at his friend. "No," he stated, his voice flat, matter-of-fact. "No fucking way. What the hell is wrong with you, anyhow? How could I? How could I do that?"

Aya shook his head, "You should have thought like an assassin, not like my friend. It was the best solution. You could have turned my body over to Kritiker, told them I forced you to come with me, and they would have let you go back to Weiss. Omi and Ken would be safe, too, and you guys could get back to your normal lives. Schuldich's only interested in revenge on me, so he would have, probably, given the girl back to Hank. Everyone would have been happy; everything would have been solved. Easy."

Yohji couldn't believe Aya could talk about his own death so calmly. He knew the redhead didn't value his own life; he had known that for some time. But, Yohji also knew, if the shoe had been on the other foot, if he had been the one injured, Aya would have done anything, up to and including giving up his own life, to save him.

He sighed and parroted back Aya's words, "Everyone would be happy; everything would be solved."

"That's right," Aya said.

"Yeah," Yohji snorted, "Except you'd be dead! I, for one, would not be happy with that outcome. How can you think Ken, Omi, and I could just continue on like normal just like nothing had changed without you there? Haven't you figured it out yet? You're part of the family for better or worse. What the hell do I have to do to convince you of that?"

"I know that," Aya said, "but, pain passes. And, it would have ensured the most people's safety with the least amount of damage. It would have been the greater good."

"The greater good?" Yohji asked, incredulous. When Aya nodded, he said, "That's that's just bullshit. Pain passes, does it? Is that why you still wear Aya-chan's earring? Is that why you still visit her every day, even though she's been in a coma for years? Because your pain has passed? And, what about when she wakes up? What am I supposed to tell her? That her brother is dead? That I let him die because it was convenient? Because he wasn't worth fighting for?"

"I'm not worth fighting for," Aya muttered.

Yohji rose from his chair and stood over the bed. Placing his hands carefully on either side of Aya's legs, he leaned over, until his face was near the redhead's, and cupped Aya's chin in his hands, forcing the younger man to look him in the eye. "You are worth fighting for. To me. To Omi. To Ken."

"And, to me," Hank said, from the doorway. He stepped into the room and said, "Sorry. I I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard voices, and I thought, maybe, you were finally awake." He paused for a moment, doubt and hesitation written all over his face, unsure of the welcome he would receive from the man he'd betrayed, and he debated over whether he should say what he really wanted to say. After a brief, internal struggle, he decided to just do it, and damn the consequences. "Don't don't ever think like that, Ran. Life is so precious, and, from what I've gathered, you guys should probably be more aware of that than just about anyone. Don't ever sell yourself so short. You mean a lot to a lot of people, people who worry about you, people who care whether you come home, people who want you to be safe, people who just want for you to be alive and existing in the world, no matter what. That's worth fighting for. You owe it to those people to not ever, ever give up."

He paused and looked at the floor, slightly embarrassed by his emotional outburst, and then said, "Yohji, I I, uh brought your coffee. You left it you know in the galley. I'll just um leave it here." He placed the coffee cup on the chest-of-drawers and hastily backed out of the room without another word.

Yohji and Aya watched his retreat in silence. Once Hank had left, the tall blonde moved from his position on the bed, retrieved the coffee cup, and returned to his previous seat in the chair.

Aya stared down at the bed sheets for a long time. His fingers plucked nervously at the material as he mumbled, a faint blush coloring his face, "Yohji thanks for saving me."

Yohji shrugged and waved his hand through the air, as if dismissing Aya's words. He knew how much that small admission had cost the redhead, how hard it had been for him to say those few words. He didn't want to make such a big deal out of it that it would embarrass Aya into retreating back within himself. "Ah, don't worry about it. You talk big, but, if it had been me, I know you woulda done the same." He laughed when Aya gave him a "don't-be-so-sure" look.

"How long was I sleeping?" Aya asked.

Yohji replied, "Two weeks."

Aya let out a low whistle. "Two weeks?" he asked, staring at Yohji with wide, surprised eyes.

The tall blonde nodded, "More or less." Yohji took another sip of coffee before asking, "So, how the hell are we gonna get out of this mess? We've gotta get Hank's daughter back, you know."

Aya sighed and stared at the sheets, this time contemplating Yohji's question. He carefully brought his legs up to his chest, wincing at the pain so much movement caused, and put arms around them, holding the cup of soup clasped in both hands, in front of his knees. He was wearing one of Yohji's long-sleeve shirts. The blonde had dressed him in it after changing his bandages the day before, and it was loose and baggy on him. The sleeves fell well below his wrists, and he could only see the tips of Aya's fingers peeking out from under the material. He didn't know why he hadn't realized it before now, but Aya had really lost a lot of weight in the past couple of months. Sitting there like that, in the bed, knees tucked under his chin, sheets draped off of him, and wearing a too-big shirt, Aya looked more like a sick child than the deadly assassin he was.

"Yeah," the redhead replied slowly. "I can only see two ways out of this situation, but I don't think you're gonna like them."

"Shoot," Yohji said, leaning forward to listen.

"One, I turn myself over to Kritiker. I'm done for, but they'll probably let you go, and I'm sure they'll rescue the girl."

"You're right," Yohji said. "I don't like that plan."

"Two," Aya continued, "I give myself up to Schuldich. I'm sure he's still looking for me. That attack in the shop it was revenge, pure and simple."

"Revenge?" Yohji asked, "For what?"

"Remember that mission, about eight, maybe even ten months ago, where we broke up that gambling ring that was selling women on the side?" When Yohji nodded, Aya went on, "Remember, we killed everyone --- all the customers, all the employees --- as ordered, and only freed the women who were being sold?"

Again, Yohji nodded.

"One of the employees he was one of the bodyguards I killed he was really young, kind of tall and skinny, with bleached blonde hair cut in a buzz. You remember him?"

Yohji shook his head, and Aya replied, "I'm not surprised. We all killed so many people that night. Anyhow, Schuldich wants revenge for that guy. I'm sure of it. When he attacked me in the shop, he couldn't even control his emotions or his thoughts --- pure rage, like me and Takatori, you know?"

Yohji nodded.

"That guy thoughts and images about that guy kept slamming into my head from him from Schuldich," Aya finished with a shrug.

"So, that guy meant something to Schuldich?" Yohji asked.

Aya shrugged again, and handed the half-empty cup to Yohji, who placed it on the floor between the bed and the chair.

"I guess so," Aya said. "Anyhow," he continued, "I turn myself over to Schuldich. He releases Hank's daughter in the exchange. If everything goes perfectly, we turn Schu over to Kritiker, and they let us off. Even if we can't give him to Kritiker, at least we'll get the girl back, for sure."

"Turn yourself over to Schuldich, huh?" Yohji asked. When Aya nodded, the tall blonde sighed, and, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, said, "Believe it or not, I actually like that plan less than the first one."