Part VII

Aya paused just outside the door to Omi's private hospital room. The Magic Bus hadn't changed a bit in the two years he had been gone. He had to fight down a moment of nausea at the memory of Aya-chan, still like death on white sheets. He needed to remember her alive and happy, laughing. He would never see her again. Was this the right way? If he stayed, he would only have to explain to Aya-chan why he was choosing to remain Aya instead of Ran. He would have to tell her what kind of person he had become. It was better that she never know.

Coward! something deep inside him screamed.

Taking a calming breath, Aya walked through the doorway. Omi was listlessly flipping through a limp magazine with one hand. His other arm was wrapped in a sling and strapped to his chest. Omi glanced up when he heard Aya's footsteps on the white tile floor.

Now that he was here, he didn't know what to say. He hadn't really thought about anything beyond leaving Tokyo, and his sister's safety. "Omi," he said.

Omi gave him a tired smile. "What are you doing here so early?" He indicted the lone plastic chair by his bed. "Have a seat."

Aya sat. His body ached from lack of sleep, so even the hard, cushionless chair felt like heaven. Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, he blurted out, "Omi, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, Aya-kun?" Omi looked surprised.

"Ken," Aya explained, feeling intensely his lack of words.

Omi was silent for a moment, staring off into space. "Ken." He paused. "Ken hadn't been right for a while." He dropped the magazine on the small bedside table, turning his sad eyes on Aya. "Every time he came back from a mission, it was worse. I didn't know what to do." Angrily, Omi wiped away the tears that were creeping down his cheeks.

"What about –" Aya began hesitantly.

"Youji didn't know," Omi interupted. He gave up the fight with tears and clenched his free hand in his lap. "I didn't want to tell him; he has enough troubles of his own."

Aya frowned. What kind of worries did Youji have? He snapped his mind back from that train of thought as Omi continued.

"A few months ago we had a huge fight. I wanted to take him off of active duty, but he insisted on staying." Omi drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them awkwardly with his good arm. "Ken was my best friend," he said, his voice muffled by the blankets. "But after that we drifted apart." He pressed his face into his knees. "I shouldn't have let it get that bad. I should have done something, not kept putting it off. I didn't want to deal with it and now look what's happened!"

"It's not your fault, Omi," Aya said. He wanted to say more, to reach out to the younger man, but he didn't know how.

"It's not your fault either." Omi turned his tear-stained face toward Aya. "It's my responsibility to take care of my agents, and I failed. You did what you had to, Aya-kun, to protect me. You had no choice."

There must have been some other way! Aya rubbed his face tiredly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I have to go."

"You have to go? Go where?" Omi sat up, his face alert. "You're leaving?"

"Aa." Aya stood, wincing when his joints creaked in protest.

"You can't just leave? What about Youji? This will destroy him!" Omi wiped away the last remnants of his grief with a corner of the sheet. "You can't just leave again without another word, Aya-kun."

Aya felt the familiar, cold weight of guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. I'll just make things worse if I stay. Please understand. "Can you watch over Aya-chan, Omi? I trust you."

"Yes," Omi whispered in a small, sad voice.

Turning his back so he didn't have to look into Omi's eyes, Aya said, "Thank you." He was almost to the door when Omi stopped him.

"Aya?"

Aya looked back over his shoulder. Omi was curled on his side on the bed. He looked small and lost, buried under the blankets. He waited.

"Can you stay until I fall asleep? Just sit with me."

By way of an answer, Aya walked slowly back to the chair. He settled himself down, pulling one foot up to rest on the seat so he could lay his head on his knee. Closing his eyes, he listened to Omi's soft, rhythmic breaths.

"I just don't want to be alone right now." It was so quiet, Aya wasn't entirely sure if he had dreamed it.

Neither do I.

------

"Hey."

Aya jerked his eyes open. His stomach sank Youji was kneeling on the floor, his hand hovering just above Aya's thigh. "I didn't know my couch was that uncomfortable," he said wryly. He finally let his hand come to rest, squeezing slightly.

"I wanted to talk to Omi." Youji's hand was warm on Aya's leg. Don't tempt me, he begged. Don't tempt me to stay. He had hurt Youji so many times, and Youji had never learned to leave well enough alone. He was strong enough to be alone. I will be strong enough to leave, to save Youji from myself.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Aya couldn't bear to meet Youji's eyes. He fixed his gaze on the hills and valleys of Omi's blankets, blindly following the patterns. "I should go back to Aya-chan," he lied.

"Please don't leave me again."

Aya started as Youji laid his head on his thigh. He hesitantly put his hand on Youji's hair, stroking it softly. His fingers missed the tactile pleasure of burying themselves in Youji's long waves. "I'll just hurt you if I stay," he whispered. Like I almost did last night. How could you ever love me after that?

"Aya, I -" Youji gripped Aya's calf, as if he were trying to anchor him to the floor. "I trust you,' he finished.

Aya's hand stilled. "You shouldn't," he said hoarsely.

"Shh." Suddenly Youji was kneeling in between his legs, his warm hands on either side of Aya's face. "Just stay." He leaned forward until their breath was mingling, their foreheads pressed together, and ever so slowly, touched his lips to Aya's.

The kiss was soft and gentle, and completely unlike anything Aya had experienced before. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste of Youji's mouth, sweet like the cinnamon gum he chewed when he couldn't smoke. Youji's tongue stroked his own, and erased every kiss he had given and every kiss he received, until his world ended and began with Youj's hands in his hair and Youji's cologne in his nose and Youji's lips on his.

When it ended they were both breathless. Youji laid his head on Aya's shoulder and pulled him forward so he could wrap his arms around his waist. Aya returned the hug, sliding his hands up and down Youji's back.

"Besides." Youji's voice whispered along Aya's neck and sent electric shivers down his spine. "You still have to take me to Kyoto to get my car, you bastard."

Something broke free in Aya at that moment. Is this what's it's like to be forgiven? To his wonderment, a laugh grew inside him, warm and tingling like that moment right before an orgasm. Aya could feel Youji's answering smile spreading across his neck as he shook with silent amusement. Could he, should he be happy? Could he, on this day with Ken dead, and Omi guilt-ridden and miserable, with Aya-chan separated from him by too many miles?

Yes, he decided, I can.