Title – Price of Forgiveness (Chpt 3)
Author - HourglassThorne, hourglassthorne@yahoo.com
Rating – R (see warnings)
Pairing(s) - Pairing yet to be specified
Warning(s) – Gluhen spoilers;  strong language;  graphic violence;  disturbing content

Notes:  In Japanese, the name "Kaiya" means "Forgiveness."
Status of fanfic – ongoing

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Aya was watching Youji silently, leaning against the workbench as he studied the tall blonde as he seated the infant girl on his lap, supported by his good arm, while Michel worked on cleaning and dressing the wounded one.  It was so bizarre seeing him like this.  Not wounded of course (that was all too familiar a scene), but with the child that he called his own.  Of the four of them from Weiss, the absolute connoisseur of hedonism and womanizing was the very last he expected to take up fatherhood, aside from himself, of course.  Ken, hell even Omi seemed more likely to be the ones to start families if they could ever break out of the vicious cycle of violence and death that was their very way of life. 

"But… Youji did break the cycle," Aya mused as he watched his former teammate cradle his daughter protectively as best he could with his free arm.  "He lost all his memories.  For all intents and purposes, Youji Kudou, Balinese of Weiss, died that awful night along with Sena and Epitaph."  Aya brought up his right hand to rest his chin on, propping the elbow of that particular arm in the left hand.  "So am I looking at a bit of the man that Youji would have been, had he never lost the first Asuka?  Never joined Weiss?  Never had the blood of countless men and women stain and torment his soul?"

Even though preoccupied for the most part by the baby on his lap and the boy mending his arm, Youji could feel the steady gaze of Aya's amythest eyes upon him.  When Michel had stepped away for a moment to find a clean washcloth and something he could use to splint Youji's sprained ankle, he turned his head to return his observer's gaze.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but found that words were suddenly hard to come by with this crimson-haired stranger. 

Or was he a stranger?  There was something very familiar about this man who saved his life just now.  Youji frowned and turned away slightly as a small voice in the back of his head, barely audible, nagged at him.  He pulled Kaiya into a closer embrace as she yawned and curled up towards him.  "Thank… Thank you for helping me out there," he finally managed to say, his voice quiet and somewhat unsure of itself.  "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't stepped in when you did."

Aya started a bit when Youji had turned his eyes towards him, suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that he had allowed himself to get so tangled up in his internal thoughts that he'd allowed himself to get caught by the subject he was observing.  "Hn," was all he trusted himself to say in response, turning his own head slightly so as not to meet the forest green gaze.

That repsonse, however, seemed to pique Youji's curiosity even more, stirring up more feelings of familiarity between himself and the redhead.  "Before, you called me 'Kudou'.  Is that my family name?  Do we know each other?  Do you know who I am?"

Aya's jaw tightened a bit, a flicker of some unfamiliar emotion flitting across his eyes.  He turned to face Youji to respond to his questions when his voice died at his lips at what he saw before him.  The face was the same as he had always remembered it.  The same familiar lines and shadows that he'd worked side by side with for so many years before hell broke loose and divided them two years ago.  However, the eyes were different.  Within the all too familiar emerald gaze Aya saw loss and pain, clearly burned into the soul of this man.  But added to the commonplace emotions writ upon those orbs was something else…

Innocence.

Not the illusion of innocence, such as what Michel (and Omi once upon a time) easily wore on a day-to-day basis in their lives outside their missions, but the type of innocence that comes from never having taken the life of another human being.  To have never been stained by the blood of others.  To have never watched as the spark of life died in the eyes of a soul condemned for oblivion at your own hands.  To have never been the reaper for the guilty unrepentant and those whose only misfortune was to blindly stand between yourself and the walking dead…

Or, at least, an innocence borne of not remembering any of it at all.

Such was the imperfect gift of amnesia.  And in that instance Aya envied Youji with all his tortured heart and tainted soul.  However, that also made it all the more difficult to broach the older man's questions.  He frowned a bit, though he managed to keep his voice even.  "We worked together a couple of years back," Aya started tenatively.  "Yes, your name is Youji Kudou, and we do know each other.  In Japan, we worked together for several years at a floral shoppe with a couple of others."

Youji blinked at Aya, a blank confusion lighting his face.  "So… I was… a florist?" he asked incredulously.

Aya nodded silently, silently thanking whatever spirits were watching over him that day when both Michel came back bearing supplies to finish mending his impromptu patient and Ken wandered in and motioned for the redhead to join him out of the backroom and into the shoppe.  "What does Mihirogi say?" Aya asked Ken once they were safely out of hearing range of the back room.

"It's strange," Ken started out as he leaned back against the front counter.  "When I called her, practically the first words out of her mouth was, 'Did Kudou show up?' and 'Is his daughter with him?'.  When I told her that he did and she was, she sounded almost relieved.  Mihirogi says to close up shop here and for us to bring him to the castle immediately.  And not to worry about any supplies for the child, that it's being handled…"

Violet eyes narrowed dangerously.  "Did she say anything about why he's here or who's chasing after him?"  The dark expression on Aya's face deepened when Ken shook his head in the negative, his own expression very much not pleased with the lack of information.

"She knows something.  But she wasn't willing to say anything about it over the phone.  We need to take the roundabout way to the castle to make sure we're not followed.  You'll have to take Youji in your car, and I'll take Michel on my motorcycle."

Aya nodded, though he was not pleased at the prospect of sharing a vehicle with a curious amnesiatic Youji for the long trip to the castle.  He then proceeded to tell Ken about how much he revealed to Youji about their past, which was just the barest amount of truth about their day jobs, and proceeded to warn him again about revealing anything about their nighttime activities.  The former soccer player nodded, not liking the idea of keeping secrets from someone who he once trusted his life with, but understanding the necessity of it all.  Soon the both returned to the back room.

"It's not safe for you to stay here in the city, not with those men looking for you," Aya told Youji as Ken took Michel off to one side to explain all that was going on.  Youji, testing the weight he could place on his injured ankle while holding his now sleeping daughter, looked at Aya, a pained expression on his face. 

"I'm sorry.  I brought this trouble to you.  You've done more than enough to help us, but I can't ask any more from you.  Whoever's after me and my girl… I don't want them after you too." Youji's expression grew even more grief-stricken as he bowed his head slightly to gaze at Kaiya face.  "These people who are after us… They are ruthless and deadly.  I don't want anyone else hurt because of us."

Amythest eyes gazed at the tall blonde steadily, but it was Ken's voice that spoke up.  "Youji-kun.  You're our friend, even if you don't remember Aya and me.  And that means that you don't have a choice in the matter.  We're helping you whether you like it or not.  Besides, how far are you gonna get on that bum leg and with a baby to worry about?  You can't protect her in your condition.  You and Kaiya ride with Aya.  Michel and I will follow you as soon as we close up shop here.  Now get out of here." 

Youji looked for a moment like he was going to argue and protest some more, but the expression faded quickly and was replaced with one of weariness and gratitude as he bowed his head with a tired smile.  "Thank you."  He raised his head to look at Ken and Aya curiously.  "I'm sorry to be asking you this.  I feel silly for having to do so, but what are your names?"

Aya and Ken shared a glance and some unreadable emotion before sighing in unison.  Ken spoke up first, smiling warmly at his friend.  "I'm Ken Hidaka, and this is--"

"Aya.  Aya Fujimiya."

Youji closed his eyes.  "Aya… Aya-kun… Ken-kun… Ken… Ken… Aya…"  he murmured, almost like a mantra.  Then his eyes snapped open and he stared at the two of them in turn, realization written all over his face.  "I remember!"  he exclaimed as Aya and Ken glanced at each other nervously.  Then the blonde's face brightened into a heart-stopping, nearly forgotten expression of unvoiced michevious laughter.  He pointed at the two of them in turn.  "You're KenKen!  And you're Ayan!  I remember!"  Youji laughed, a welcome sound to all of their ears as they released breaths that they hadn't realized that they were holding.  "I remember you hated those nicknames!  But I gave them to you all the same!"

Ken laughed as well, though he smirked at Youji micheviously himself.  "Ahhh… but we weren't the only ones with nicknames, Yotan.  Now let's get going here.  We can tease each other about this later."  He then walked with Michel to help him close out the register and bring the plants in from outside.

Aya smiled at the rememberance of the annoying, yet fond nicknames.  It was a pleasant distraction to the immediate thoughts troubling his mind.  He took his apron off and brought out the keys to his car.  "Come on.  Let's get you two someplace safe."