Tainted Romance

Chapter VI

'Sleeping Gentian'

A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction

Part six of seven

Revised

Well this is fun; Ken arched a brow and threw the chair beneath him into spin.

The sun outside shone brightly overhead, streaming vibrantly through The Koneko's shop windows. Inside its little shop, the brunette sat dully amused behind the counter as Omi worked diligently re-arranging displays and pottery. Brief and crisp chills of air swept through the shops small enclosure when a figure happened to drop by, sending its occupants into a frenzied search for a warmer corner. Not many people visited the tiny shop, and fewer people bought flowers on such a day.

On the ground snow still lightly sprinkled across Japans winter land from its last snowstorm. The snow-covered streets had turned to slush long before morning and dried a little after half past noon. But the children distraught from the melting snow would soon be cheered, tonight was to be one of the coldest, bringing a whirlwind of fresh snow with it.

Ken let his feet drop to the floor and skid with the chairs motion until he came to a complete stop. He sighed and pushed the chair back to the desk with his feet, throwing his arms atop it to rest his head on them. He eyed the outside longingly from inside, and muffled a small grunt of annoyance.

This wouldn't do, he growled, he'd been stuck inside for the last few day's. He couldn't take it anymore, he wanted out. He felt like some criminal in someone's game of cruel and unusual punishment. He longed to run outside on the soccer field and practice, even if just for an hour. But the truth was he had three captors playing this little game of cruel punishment, keeping him locked away. And being stuck inside the small building he was running out of things to do.

There was only so long one could sit before the television watching soccer before wanting to actually enjoy it for yourself. So they had banned him from it. You should have seen the hell he put up for it; it took all three of them to pin him down. They got their revenge though; he ended up reopening half of his injury in the process.

He could train in the weight room for a total of twenty minutes before someone would come and stop him. He was being treated like a child, and he was annoyed.

They'd pull him by his ear or his hair until he stopped whatever he was in the process of doing, but he'd only wait for another hour until he went back to what he was doing once again. Only to repeat the process all over again. He'd torn some muscles in his abdomen when he'd been cut, and building them back up was his number one priority. He would not be weak.

He knew they were only trying to refrain him from over exerting himself, but he didn't see it happening, he knew his limits.

But the truth was working out kept him busy, even if just a bit, it kept him from feeling. Anything, anything to get away from the pain that weighted so heavily within him. The turmoil that raged within his heart and the utter and complete depression that battled to take control. And testing his limits, gaining strength, it helped him cope. If he could only grow stronger, maybe then he wouldn't feel…

Ken flipped his head to lie on its right side and watched Omi lazily. Aya and Youji were off for today, and he had insisted on taking his shifts up once again. They hadn't put up much of a fuss considering it was one of their slower days, but that still didn't stop a few protests from slipping out.

He fiddled with the role of duck tape beside him, pushing it forward with his fingers like a hockey puck. If he could somehow get past Omi, he'd be free and out that door in a matter of seconds. However, getting past Omi was the problem; the kid had eyes in the back of his head for god's sake! Any little movement he made, Omi stilled and listened like a cat with a homing beacon on him.

It shouldn't be too hard, he thought to himself, Omi was much lighter than him in weight and strength. All he had to do was catch him with the element of surprise, and he'd be free!

"Hey Ken, can you help me in the back?" Omi's voice broke through his train of concentration.

A grin slowly spread across his face, enlightened. "Yeah, Omi."

This was too easy! His heart beat with excitement as he silently pulled the wheeled chair behind him, grabbing the role of duck tape in the process. His grin widened.

However, his conscious baited him, in a way he almost felt sorry for poor Omi. It would be a couple of hours before anyone came down into the shop to find him. With the last shift he'd be lucky if he was found at all, he snickered. No, that wasn't right; Aya always came to check the shop before closing, even if it was just a quick look.

He slowly closed the storage room's door behind him, leaving him, Omi, the chair and the role of duck tape closed away from the outside. If Omi hollered from in here, no one would hear. He should know he spent two hours stuck in there last summer when he accidentally locked himself in.

Giving a last sigh through a mischievous grin, he gave Omi a short forewarning "Sorry Omi."

The boy didn't look up from his crouched position before several stacked pots as he took inventory. "Huh? For what Ken-kun?"

"Ken-kun? …"

Three days of prison and he was free, even if it was a jailbreak, the consequences would be well worth the few hours of freedom he now had. He jogged around the corner, stretching his arms widely in the open sky above him, his jacket flapping lightly in the wind. He wanted to feel the wind in his hair again, and he momentarily debated grabbing his bike from the garage. Finding the chances slim without being caught, he opted to jog to the soccer field and around the park, and maybe grabbing something from the café down the street on the way back.

He laughed and jumped.

Omi seethed with anger, not only had he been left with inventory duty but he'd been left to watch Ken and been duck tapped to the chair in the process! He hadn't even let his guard down, and Ken had still managed to gain the element of surprise! And his opponent was injured! Some assassin skills he possessed.

He cried out again despite the bandana gagged within his mouth, muffling any sound that protruded. Hopping the chair along with his bound feet towards the back door to the den he turned the chairs back to it. Pushing from the wall at an angle, he rammed the chair's back against the door repeatedly, adding his muted cries in hopes of grabbing the inside occupants attention.

They should have taken his advice and tranqed Ken when he continually tried to over exert himself.

His attempts at the door promptly stopped, his eyes widening.

They'd slipped a painkiller in with Ken's lunch this afternoon, for that exact reason... It would only take a little longer before it really started to kick in, if it already hadn't.

Omi pushed himself against the door forcefully, the door clattering back loudly in hostility. If Ken blacked out on the street… He forced his voice through the handkerchief in a roar and pulled back to strike against the door again.

Youji fumed angrily in his bed, throwing his pillow atop his head to drown the clattering chaos surrounding him. His head ached from the previous night's hangover he still hadn't recovered from. Curling up tighter beneath the silken blankets, the rumbling continued, shaking the contents of his room.

"What the Fuck!" His shout growled from beneath his pillow. Sitting upright hastily, he watched as the glass ashtray placed at the corner of his nightstand wobbled to its end and shatter to the floor.

He ran a hand through his unkempt blonde hair, and angrily pulled a pair of sweat pants on. Reaching for the door handle he stepped from his room, almost colliding with a figure similar in height. Aya looked to him in question before thundering down the stairs. Youji followed in pursuit.

The noise emanated from the shops door accessing the kitchen. Youji pushed the door open an inch before it was abruptly slammed back in place, nearly missing his fingers. Trying again, he pushed forcibly against the door, pushing the blockade back away from the access way.

Muffled cries murmured relentlessly in effort as he peered around the door.

"OMI!" Youji's shock sent Aya pushing the door farther to open, sending Omi rolling across the floor on the wheeled chair. Omi's hair splayed disheveled atop his head, his eyes frantic and wide. "What the fuck happened?!"

Youji rushed to his side and knelt beside him, taking the stuffed bandana from his mouth.

"Ken!" Youji immediately regretted his course of action, Omi's words blared into his ear at maximum capacity. Blinking and rubbing his ear, he shook his head. "A little louder Omi, I think I can still hear out of this ear."

"That ass hole! He tied me up and left me here!" he abruptly changed tracks, "Youji! We gave him that painkiller this afternoon! It hasn't kicked in yet! He'll over exert himself and black out on the street! Or in the middle of the street! Things get disoriented with that type of painkiller! -" Omi managed to voice his statement between gasps of air as his rapid breathing returned to normal.

"Ken." The name was left silently said as the stoic voices owner sprinted from the shop, the door chime laughing deliriously in abuse.

"Wait! Aya!"

Ken breathed in heavily, relishing in his newly regained freedom when a yawn suddenly fell across his mouth. He frowned in annoyance, how could be tired with so little activity in the last three days? He shook his head, trying to clear it of any notion of sleep. He was finally free, he'd had three days locked inside with nothing but sleep, how could he possibly be tired? With the thought of so much sleep in the last few days, he concluded that his body must have gained a new routine for itself in the short time he'd been out.

Letting his body fall to his knees in a sudden dissension, he stretched out his legs, using muscles he hadn't in the past few days. His mind wandered to what his previous events consisted of; Sleeping, eating, and sleeping a little more. No wonder his body had placed itself in a new routine.

He scowled as he pulled his left arm over his shoulder. He would just have to get his body back into its normal routine, and warming up was the first step. With full five-minute stretch, he placed his feet against the cement walkway and breathed in heavily before pushing off.

His jacket flapped lightly at his sides as he ran and the cold air pierced his lungs, cutting against his cheeks as he broke through it. Cautiously he slid a hand under his jacket and against his skin, sliding over the bandaged area. Finding that the area wasn't stressed he continued in his jog, picking up in pace in the slightest.

The cold air felt good, despite the lack of sunlight the day was beginning to show. Breathing in rhythm, he checked his watch. He still had time before the sun slipped behind the horizon for the night. He rounded the corner; continually aware of any weariness should his body show. But despite the still new wound, he could find none, except for the lingering objection for sleep his body seemed to display.

Within the park, couples walked in peaceful bliss around the park and in loitering areas. Hands clasped, and eyes that held admiration for no one but the one they loved. Laughs echoed in silent love at little gestures and returned affection. The silent gestures that meant so much…

At every glance, or turn, lovers sat, entwined in each other's presence. Ken's feet suddenly stopped and his eyed wandered. A strange panic set in, emanating from his chest. Once more his heart weighted down heavily, after trying so hard to let it go. He turned with a small-saddened smile, forced. Why was this affecting him so much? He saw these people everyday; he encountered the same actions from unknown people as they passed, continuing in their everyday life. But why was it now that it suddenly seemed to mean so much, these little affectionate gestures? Why was it now that he noticed?

No… I can't…

He could feel his legs start to ache as he continued upon his path, never decreasing in pace, yet never increasing, he continued. He couldn't stop, he didn't want to stop. Stopping meant thinking, and thinking was something he would not allow himself. For if he thought, he thought only of him, and everything he, himself, had done wrong. He wanted to be away, away from everything and everyone; where he could hide within the shadows in the darkness that always followed him. He would finally surrender and let it take him. Then it would be gone, every emotion that ever plagued him…

His legs continued to pound against the cement as he ran, and the ache from his legs rose, his sides now reacting to the pain. But he didn't stop, not even when the pain reached the knife wound, he didn't stop. When he was running he could concentrate on one thing and one thing only. The breathing and the rhythm he created. He could let it lull him, sooth him into comfort. He didn't have to think.

Just a little farther was the darkness he sought; just a hand span away, if he could only grasp it…But it seemed to always slip away just as it was within his grasp. Slip away between his fingers, and dissipate within his sight. No…

His throbbing legs sought relief in desperation, his sides craved it, and he finally gave in. He couldn't control anything; nothing within his life could he change. Everything fell just as it was within his reach; just as he had managed to grab it… it slipped away from him, into nothing.

But he needed something; he needed something to hold on to. He needed someone to keep him here. What was he here for? Was his life solely for the purpose of killing?

With the life he held he deserved no happiness, he knew that. But in his life he knew no happiness, and he had held none.

And so, he ran. Away from the people that returned everything he fought to block away. He ran, trying to escape the blinding pain that seared through him. He ran as if the faster he ran, the faster he could escape it all.

And until he finally found himself in the darker area of the secluded park, where people didn't linger. He ran until his calves ached and his chest burned. He ran with everything he had, until legs threatened to collapse beneath him, and his side threatened to break open anew, and until finally they did.

Beneath the old willow tree, he finally stopped, clutching the trees trunk as he slid to his knees. Tears billowed to the brim, and a single tear silently fell before the others. Anger suddenly swelled within him, breaking through the distraught turmoil within him. Upon his hands and knees his right hand descended to the ground with heavy force, breaking the soil around it and leaving it in slight depression.

And he fell.

The tears came unbidden, slowly falling like the snowflakes that now fell freely from the already darkened sky, the sun long past set.

Weak. How could he be so weak…? To feel things that consumed him so holey.

He was not like this. He had always refused weakness and built up against it with strength. But he had never prepared himself for this kind of weakness, a weakness of the heart.

Pushing himself to lean against the tree with his back, he fought for control. In long ragged breaths, he regained his composer. His eyes dry, and his breathing once again normal, he pushed himself to his feet, all too aware of the abstraction of sleep he felt growing to strong.

He'd been searching for over an hour, and the sun had already set, making the visibility and the possibility of finding him that much harder. He had to give Hidaka credit, setting out at the time he did was opportune, leaving just that much time before the blanket of darkness fell and all hopes of finding him vanished. But what he had done was reckless; he was in no condition to be alone for this long. He'd just gotten over his fever, and his wound was only beginning to heal, his body was still too weak.

He'd searched everywhere, everywhere Ken was likely to be, the parks, the playing fields, his favorite restaurants… All in vein. His eyes darted over passing faces and crowds as his conscious baited him, and his worry grew, almost to the point of constricting his chest. Ken…

And that's where he found him, his brown locks obscuring his eyes and his head held low. Within the crowed, his face suddenly appeared, in the flow opposite to his, he walked. The light his eyes once possessed gone. Frozen hands shoved within thin jacket pockets for warmth, and solemn face.

Aya's heart jumped with relief to find him in one piece.

But his heart suddenly pained.

Why?

For how he looked, for the suffering he looked to be in?

Why?

He pushed through the crowd, eager to catch the boy that had eluded him for so long, heading towards him.

"Ken!"

Kens vision swam, his eyes growing aggrieved in search of relief to find closed lids. He had to get home, no matter how much he didn't want to be there… To face the person who threw him into such inner turmoil.

His name.

People blurred around him, and his actions slowed. He could just barely make out someone calling his name. How he wished it was that one person who meant so much to him, he couldn't comprehend.

The voice called again.

Who?

Youji…

Youji… He would take him home. He didn't think he could make it another step without collapsing. Youji would take him home and let him sleep. But he'd have to endure the angered lecture he'd face from him. But Youji would understand, he always did…

Why was he so damn tired anyway?

"Ken!" His shoulder bumped past the last blocking person and in the crowd Ken was forcefully shoved from behind into him. "Ken!" Ken didn't put up any defense, and his body limply fell into Aya's outstretched arms, his head falling neatly into the crook of his neck.

Aya froze, his body rigid from the sudden and unexpected contact. He sighed heavily, letting his body relax. The worry he had finally gone, knowing the young brunette was safely within his arms, and no harm had come to him. His cheek fell against the head atop his chest, and he breathed in, taking in his scent.

"Are you alright?" Aya whispered, his fallen expression regained with relief.

"I'm sorry… I'm so tired, Yo-tan."

Yo-tan? Ken thought him to be Youji? His sighed lightly into the brunette's disheveled hair. No matter, he was safe that was all that mattered. "Come on, let's get you home."