Disclaimer I do not own Weiss Kreuz or any of it's members sniff , they are only on rent!
Youji worked silently, not letting Ken see his hands for more than a few seconds, because he knew that Ken would have a nerve attack, seeing Aya on the brink of death, and Youji's hands sliced up, and Ken wouldn't let him fix up Aya until his hands were sewn up. Guilt rattled through his mind, he let Aya fall, he made Aya fall it was him him him, he made all this happen, and he couldn't make it right, ever...
"Ken... can you get some food...." He spoke in a whisper, all his energy gone from him in a few seconds. Ken looked up from the bed, seeing Youji crouched up with his hands behind his back. He'd never seen Youji like this; the usually cocky guy he was didn't crouch up, or whisper.
"Yeah, sure..." Ken didn't know what was going on, but he knew that Youji wanted him out the room. He left, with a doubtful look at Omi, still out on the floor.
Aya was sleeping, or as close to sleeping as a coma was, Youji sitting a vigil by his side, occasionally, leaning forwards, trying to take the pulse, but he never could, he always sat back just before he touched Aya's skin, just incase he spread more wounds where his hands touched.
Ken still hadn't seen his hands, and Youji didn't intend to let him. He needed some food. Or at least a coffee... He wanted to trail downstairs; go into the kitchen and get coffee beans and eat them. He couldn't drag himself away from the silent Aya on the bed, whenever he tried to stand up, Aya always seemed to move slightly, or moan a little, and he sat back down sharply. He stood up and ran out the room, leaving the door flapping behind him, nearly collapsing in the hallway, shocked at what he'd done. He dragged himself along by the walls and door handles, till he reached the kitchen door. Ken was in the shop, and Omi still out cold on the floor back in Aya's room. Youji was hoping to get in and out without being seen, and not die under a barrage of the third degree.
He crept round the cupboards, searching for his coffee tin, somewhere, somewhere, why could he never find things when he needed them? Because your life's a mess, just like you. Shut up shut up! Why talk to himself? Not like it was going to help... Not even out loud. He sighed, having resigned the fruitless search for the coffee tin. He leapt up the stairs, three at a time, hitting off tables and banisters, trying to get back to Aya in the shortest time possible...
Three weeks later, Aya was walking a little, even glancing at people, and attempting to talk. He didn't know why he was wrapped like an extra from 'The Mummy' or who made his back into shreds, and he didn't particularly care.
Youji opened his door and walked in, flicking it shut with his heel while trying to eat his chow mein one handed. He only stopped, sauce dribbling down his chin when he saw Aya sitting on the end of his bed, arms loosely crossed, looking dolefully at Youji.
"Whyatthmmm????" he said, his mouth full of the food. He swallowed.
"What do you want?" He asked again, stunned that Aya had made it to the other side of the building, to his room. He looked closer into Aya's face, and saw the strange, half drunk look he saw before on the roof of the estate park.
"You..." Aya whispered, before letting his arms fall, and the crimson stain on his black shirt fall into Youji's view. He fell backwards onto the satin sheets, his eyes still open. The world seemed devoid of colours to Youji, all black and white, monotone, except for the blazing red of the blood and the muted violet of Aya's eyes. Youji dropped his take-away and ran the few feet to Aya, although it seemed miles, and he was crying harder than he had ever before in his life. He pulled back the tails of Aya's shirt, and watched in horror at the deep gash in his side, a wound torn open again, too deep, far too deep to let him live. The red of his vital organs bleeding out into Youji's hands brought him back. He grabbed Aya round his shoulders and pulled him up off the already soaked bed, clutching him to his chest, his own sobs filling the room.
"You..." Aya whispered again, right next to Youji's ear, and so clear it sounded as if he had spoken out. "I want you..." Again, Aya spoke, his voice fading into Youji's sobs. Aya gently turned in Youji's arms; his shirtfront wet with blood, and kissed him. By now Youji stopped crying, gently woken from his grieving by the contact, and again, as he fell quiet and stared, Aya kissed him, deeper this time, and Youji responded, not knowing why or how, but only that he wanted it too. As they parted lips, Aya shuddered, Youji feeling his own heart shudder too, and Aya lay still in the arms of his saviour.
Okay! I know several people out there hate me now! But hark! This tale of death and love is not over yet! You choose what you read next! If you choose Chapter 3, Aya is dead, and Youji grieving, but if you choose Chapter 3b, you get happily-ever-after ending...it'll just take a while..
But beware! Not all is as it seems...
TO BE CONTINUED
