Part Seven
"So..."
Silence. Ken cannot think of a single thing to say, and Ran doesn't provide anything on his end, either. The redhead is merely staring quite unnervingly at Ken, intently enough to seem deeply troubled, but masked enough for his emotions to remain a mystery.
Ken shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He hates that look, that calculating glower, glare, whatever it is. Even after having summoned up a bit more courage the night before, under the weight of that look he falters. He knows this is his perfect chance, but what is he supposed to say?
"Ken..."
The unsettled brunette practically jumps. 'Aya's talking...? To me...? Oh thank you, God, for making him speak first...'
"Err...yeah?" Ken answers lamely, feeling very enclosed, sitting there on the couch with Ran towering, even if the redhead is looming about twenty feet away from him in the center of the room.
In two long strides that distance is cut in half. "We need to talk." Ran explains bluntly, still cryptic in his tone and his intent. His eyes remain trained on Ken, appearing quite capable of remaining there regardless of how long it takes Ken to respond. When Ran has something to say, he does not allow anything to reduce his confidence. That would show weakness, and his weaknesses are apparent enough.
"So...err, well...yeah...so...umm...you...wanna sit down?" Ken finally fumbles out, all the while wringing his hands in his lap. He is trying his hardest to return Ran's steady look, but it is not an easy task.
Ran looks to the open space beside Ken on the couch, but thinks better of it. "I'll stand, thank you. This won't take long."
'Uh oh...' Ken can feel the swing of the axe already.
"This nonsense will end now." Ran begins, head held high, violets blazing, and fists unwittingly clenched at his sides. "Whatever feelings you may have, you will push them aside and concentrate on the mission, whetherit isinstigated first by that smug child or by Kritiker. If Kritiker does not sanction further missions, know that I will not participate. In which case you can then distract yourself with whatever foolishness you desire."
"All right, that's it." Ken has had enough, eyes narrowed dangerously, with so much of his too short temper raging behind them.
Ran, however, is just as obstinate. "No, that is not it." he growls, knuckles gone unnaturally white in their fierce clenching, even for him. "I have agonized over how to deal with this, but there is nothing more to say on the matter. Yes, I see that Shioshiro exists, but my path is mine alone to choose, and I have no ri--" Ran catches himself, deciding on a safer choice of words. "And I do not choose you."
Turning briskly on his heels, Ran moves to head towards his room after that, giving Ken no further attention or care.
Of course, Ken—incensed beyond rationality at this point, and having forgotten his recent reservations towards speaking his mind—isn't about to let Ran walk away.
"You fucking prick."
That gets Ran's attention; he stops dead in his tracks.
Slowly and with murder in his eyes—a look he has perfected nearly as well as his companion—Ken rises from the couch and closes the gap separating him from that stubbornly turned back. "I love you, okay? That's not news. But I'm not asking for a proposal here. I'm not asking for anything. What I expect is to be treated like a person, something I thought I could always count on from you. Am I worth so little I don't even deserve..." Ken trails off, rolling over in his mind so many finishing thoughts that don't quite say the right thing.
After far too tense a pause, Ran speaks for him. "Deserve what?" he bites, glaring back over his shoulder at the brunette only a foot from him now. "Deserve what, Ken? You say you ask for nothing, but you know that isn't true. One look from you...and I can feel you asking everything. I do not return your affections."
"So you've said."
"I mean it."
"I hear you!"
"Then listen to me!" Ran grits out angrily, turning fully around to stand Ken down, and utilizing every bit of his inch advantage in height. "I have no desire for love, or children, or any of the things that boy keeps spouting in my direction."
"He's older than me, Aya, he's not a boy." Ken breaks in indignantly.
It takes all of Ran's composure not to rip Ken's head off. "Fine. But hear me. Listen to what I'm telling you. No future is set in stone, no matter how much evidence points towards one particular end. I know who I am and what my life is worth. Every choice I make is mine to make, not yours, not Shioshiro's, and NOT Fate's."
Again, Ran's back is suddenly to Ken as his thin form begins to walk away. Infuriated as he is, this time Ken does not call out to stop that retreating figure, much as he may want to. His hopes for a civil conversation have been crushed and Ken is left standing in the main room of the RV—alone.
'He'll come around eventually, they said. Right...'-----
A few hours later, Ran has snuck from his room, thankful for not having passed Ken on his way out, and is sitting on a rock near the bridge a good distance from their parking spot. He is glad they have decided to abandon trying to sell any flowers for the time being, especially since it would mean they would have to drive into town. He prefers it out here, away from similar chaos like that of the world they left behind in Tokyo.
Not that he has found much escape from chaos overall. It has so many forms, and more than one seem to have found their way inside the crevices of his heart.
'I ask to be left alone...and he assaults my thoughts regardless...' the seemingly uncaring redhead thinks with an almost angry sigh. He is facing the river and bridge, the RV at his back. 'He doesn't understand what he asks of me. He thinks I am dismissing Shioshiro. I am not. I see that boy...that...man. I see how he embodies us both so...perfectly. I am not blind to the facts, but I cannot accept them. Not when I know...I have no right to.'
Another sigh, a small huff to rid red strands from his eyes, and Ran lifts his gaze high to focus on the clear sky above. There are some distant thunderheads on the way, but for now, it is sunny and bright. The storm may be inevitable, but he is content in imagining he will take cover in time.
"Nice day, doncha think?"
Ran tenses. A voice too like his own has just spoken from behind him. He does not turn around. "Perhaps. I thought you went into town."
"We came back. Just did a little shopping really. Food. Supplies. A few essentials for me, along with some clothes so I don't have to keep borrowing yours. I know how much you hate that."
"Hn."
Ran keeps his back turned, but Shioshiro isn't one to wait for an invitation. Coming around the rock Ran is sitting on, the young brunette leans against it, very much invading Ran's space. "Kento told me about your argument. Not bent on budging, huh? I knew you were stubborn, Fujimiya-san, but this is rather ridiculous."
"You can keep your comments to yourself." Ran replies sharply, looking to the young man at his right in clear annoyance and barely contained fury. He has had enough for one day. "If you've come to plead his case, you can go back where you came from. If you think I have any pity for your situation--"
"Oh, believe me, I know you don't." Shioshiro interrupts, smiling brilliantly with perhaps a touch of the familiar smugness he had displayed that first night. "I'm sure you couldn't care less, negating my existence by being so damn unmovable. And you shouldn't. I have no connection to you in this time, technically. Why feel any sympathy for someone who has yet to be born?"
Narrowing his violets all the more severely in regards to the violets looking so confidently back at him, Ran holds his head a little higher. "I know what you're doing. A roundabout way to get my affections and sympathy will work no more than a direct one. Your existence is your own problem. My life is mine."
"Fair enough."
But as much as that smile remains on Shioshiro's face, Ran cannot deny discovering real sorrow behind those piercing eyes, even as much as the brunette tries to keep it hidden.
What really digs deep inside Ran's gut and pulls at his heartstrings is how he is almost certain the young man beside him is feeling that sorrow more for his parents than for the possible loss of his own life. And that...gives the redhead more pause than he cares to admit.
"What are you two talking about?"
Ran tenses—again. Another unwelcome voice has just invaded his senses.
He really doesn't want to turn around this time, but does anyway, and just as he thought, there stands Ken, soccer ball in hand, casually regarding them both. Both as in Shioshiro AND Ran, despite the recent argument Ran and Ken shared inside the RV.
Ran would find this odd if he didn't know the brunette so well.
"I'm going back inside."
"But...but Aya--!" Ken tries unsuccessfully, his voice pleading as Ran sweeps past him suddenly, having abandoned the rock. Within moments, Ran is already halfway back to the RV and Ken is once again left standing like a fool.
Coming up behind his dejected father, Shioshiro slips an arm around Ken's shoulder and casts the slightly shorter man a wry smile. "Man, he sure can be a prick, can't he?"
Considering Ken has been thinking that very same thing for quite some time now, he almost laughs aloud. Almost. "Yeah...a real prick..."
"Come on." Shioshiro says with a hearty squeeze of Ken's captured shoulders. "Just leave him be a while yet. He'll come around. Why don't you and I waste a little of this time on our hands." And with a quick wink, Shioshiro suddenly has Ken's soccer ball and is dribbling it rather skillfully with his feet.
Ken is initially stunned, partly by Shioshiro's swift acquisition of the ball, as well as bythe young man's adept handling of it. If Ken wasn't extremely prideful of his own abilities, he might just have to admit the other brunette is better than him.
At least when it comes to dribbling.
"Who taught you how to--" Ken begins, and then immediately cuts himself off. No secret there. "Well, I should hope I'd pass on my soccer skills. I could have been one of the top goalies in the league. Would have been, too, if not for...you know." Ken finishes, shrugging his shoulders. "You do know, right?"
Shioshiro smiles, kicking the ball up into the air to catch it easily between his hands. "Yeah...I know. Betrayal, heartache, and broken dreams. Kase. You told me all about it. Said that nothing was more important in friendship than love and trust. I've never forgotten that."
"Wow..." Ken blushes, rubbing the back of his head in a somewhat nervous gesture. "Go me and being all wise and paternal, huh? Didn't think I had much advice to give. Sure wish it didn't all come from what NOT to do, and the things I hope you WON'T have to deal with."
"It doesn't all come from that." Shioshiro assures, tossing the ball up suddenly and bucking it with his head at his father. Ken catches it effortlessly, dropping it down to begin dribbling himself.
Watching his father's footwork carefully, Shioshiro finds himself even more awed than Ken had been. Seeing his father in his prime, doing what he does best—outside a mission, at any rate—is...humbling, if not powerfully inspiring.
"Say...care to have a little fun, Kento?" the young brunette offers with a mischievous grin.
Ken kicks the ball back to Shioshiro, returning that grin as a perfect reflection. "What do you have in mind?"
"A test of skills. I play forward, see? And you're a goalie."
"I get it. You wanna see if you can get one past me."
Shioshiro's grin widens. He points across the bridge. "Those trees over there look about the right distance apart."
"You're on, Hiro. Race you there!"
And in a flash Ken is off, followed by a now laughing Shioshiro, who rushes after with the ball clutched tightly in his hands.
-----
Click. Click. Click.
Click. Click. Click.
/...haven't heard from you in a while. You had me worried./
/You thought I was dead?/
/No. Injured maybe. Or captured by someone./
/I'm fine. You?/
/Good, I guess. Things are getting a little weird around here, though./
/Oh? How so?/
Omi hesitates.
Sitting alone in the RV with his laptop set up by the main computer, he has just signed on and is chatting with a friend--a friendwho has been missing in action for over a week now. He knows he has to be cautious, though, despite his extreme relief in learning that his friend is okay.
/Same rules as always?/ he types, anxiously awaiting the response.
/Of course. This conversation never happened. Anything said is as if it was never said. I won't tell the others./
/I know. Sorry for doubting you./
/Not at all. We are enemies, after all./
This makes Omi hesitate. Not because he actually considers his friend to be an enemy, but because he resents the reality of it. /Well, the short version is.../ he sends that, but thinks a minute, finally deciding that being as straight forward as possible is probably the best route. /...Aya and Ken's son, Shioshiro, has come back in time to help us save the world from Estet, and he can't tell us all the details because that might endanger the delicate balance of time. I know it sounds strange, but it's true, and we're going on all these missions to set things right./ Omi sends that as well, and waits, almost laughing a little at the absurdity of that impossible, run-on sentence.
He waits.
Nothing.
Hewaits a little more.
Still nothing.
Finally, just when he is about to ask if his friend is all right, the reply comes.
/You're coming for us, aren't you?/
Omi's pulse quickens. This is the test of allegiance. If he says yes, he may be betraying his teammates, but if he says no, he will be betraying a friendship that has helped him through some of the toughest times this past year.
It isn't that he doesn't trust his friend, but if in the same situation, if given the information he is about to tell...what would he do?
Omi shakes his head. He doesn't know, but he does trust his friend, and for now all he can do is hope that trust is enough. /Yes./ he types simply. /But that doesn't mean--/
Before Omi can finish typing, a reply breaks through. /Will you kill me, Omi?/
A quickening pulse is nothing now; Omi's hands are shaking almost to the point of keeping them from being able to type. He deletes what he had written and starts again. /I don't want to./
/I know you don't, but you will./
/I won't! I'll do everything I can to protect you./
/You say that, but you know it isn't possible./
/Then join our side when we come for you. You don't want to be a part of all that any more than you want to be my enemy./
/It would be suicide./
/No, it wouldn't. You've said yourself that you're becoming stronger than all of them./
/I am. Everyday. But that doesn't mean you can protect me from them./
/Please./ Omi sends, typing so quickly on the keyboard, he is surprised at his accuracy. /Think about what I've said./ Omi sends that, too, waiting just a moment before beginning to add, /Please, Na--/
"Who are you talking to, Omi?"
Not a single thought goes through Omi's head as he slams his laptop shut, acting entirely on a hair-trigger he has gained after much experience. He is suddenly very thankful he decided to use his laptop instead of the main computer.
"Whoa. What's the big idea? Cyber date, or something?"
"Of course not, Youji-kun." Omi dismisses, beginning to quickly put his laptop away, just in case his older companion decides it might be funny to snatch it up and look for himself. "I was just...chatting to pass the time. It's silly really. Besides, you surprised me."
A small, barely discernable huff. "Right." the tall blonde speaks, crossing well-muscled arms across his chest. He clearly doesn't buy a word of what Omi is saying, standing almost imposingly over the younger man as Omi finishes placing his laptop in its case. "We all have our secrets, Omi, so I won't push to know yours, but you better not be getting yourself into any trouble. I worry about you sometimes, ya know?"
This stern but compassionate admission catches Omi a little by surprise. He places his laptop—now tucked safely in its case—to rest leaning against the desk. Slowly, he swivels in his chair to face his friend. "You worry about me?" he asks, as if hardly believing such a thing could be possible. "Why?"
Youji's slight anger vanishes and a small grin slips into his expression. "Cause you're the baby of the family. Gotta make sure you don't get into anything too much over your head. Older brother's prerogative."
If he didn't genuinely know that Youji means all this in the best light and with the outmost sincerity, Omi would have been offended at once again being pegged "the baby."
As it stands, he feels rather blessed.
"Thank you, Youji-kun. That really...that really means a lot. I..." Omi trails off a little, fighting off quickly rising tears. How easily he can succumb to tears. "I...never had a brother...when I really needed one. I've thought of us like a family. All of us. But...sometimes..."
"Sometimes it gets to feeling like we do everything side by side and nothing together." Youji finishes, arms loosed from their stiff hold around his chest, hanging at his sides again. He takes a step closer to the desk and leans back against it, looking down at his young friend, who is still sitting in the chair. "We live, work, and kill side by side. But sometimes I think we forget that we're together, too. That make any sense?"
Omi smiles. "Perfect."
An odd little twinkle suddenly appears in Youji's emeralds. "Then what the hell are we doing in here? If we're together, we sure as hell better start working together if we're gonna get all this stuff sorted out. And that includes Ken and the Ice Queen. Come on."
Before Omi realizes what has just occurred, he is out of his chair, being pulled from the RV none too gently by his friend.
-----
"I didn't say you were slow. Just slower than I thought you'd be."
"Yeah, coz I'm used to dealing with someone twice my age."
"Excuses won't get the ball past me, Hiro."
"I'm not excusing anything. But now that I know what I'm dealing with, I don't have to go easy anymore."
That said, Shioshiro begins dribbling the ball increasingly faster, a good 10 yards away from Ken, who is positioned between the two trees. Both are—thankfully—in jeans and T-shirts and are already working up a good sweat. So far Ken has only just managed to block three very skilled shots, but that doesn't mean he is willing to admit how close those shots have come.
Ken eyes the other brunette like a hunter watching its prey—hawk-like, precise. Shioshiro moves left; he follows. Shioshiro moves back right; he follows. Shioshiro fakes left, back right, acts as though he plans to shift at least a few more times, before suddenly reeling back and releasing a mighty kick in the farthest spot from Ken's position. Ken's thoughts are only on the ball. The ball coming faster, closer, almost—
"Oi, Ken!"
Shit. And there is the ball flying just past his fingertips to land far off in the clearing beyond. Perfect.
"Nice shot, kiddo! You got one past a J-Leaguer."
Ken has landed rather roughly on the ground after diving for Shioshiro's shot. He can hear Shioshiro's snickers, Omi's giggling, and Youji's all out laughter.
Needless to say, Ken is not a happy goalie when he stands back up to dust himself off.
"Damnit, Youji, you made me miss that shot!" he growls, stomping over to the playboy who has sauntered up to them with Omi beside him.
Youji casts Ken a 'yeah right' expression. "You would have missed that one anyway; don't blame me. That thing was going a million miles an hour."
"I could have stopped it if you hadn't shouted. You messed up my timing."
"Uh, uh, uh." Shioshiro interjects, coming up to join the others, and wearing a very pleased grin. "Excuses, excuses, Kento." he winks.
Ken glowers.
"However...I certainly wouldn't mind a rematch."
Ken attempts to look as if he is having a very hard time deciding whether or not to accept this offer, but eventually, his customary smile breaks through and he hooks Shioshiro into a friendly headlock. "I suppose I should be proud instead of pissed. It is my genes I'm up against."
The four young men share a comfortable laugh. When Ken releases Shioshiro and they are all merely standing, facing each other, Youji suddenly remembers why he had rushed out there in the first place.
"Right. So I've been thinking..." he begins, once he is certain he has everyone's attention. "The situation with Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass is going nowhere fast, so I'm thinkingwe gotta do something a little more drastic. From the sounds of the 'talk' you two had earlier, Ken, he isn't too keen on being flexible with all this."
With good reason, Ken looks a little nervous, unconsciously moving closer, tightening their small circle. "I don't know, Youji. I don't want to push him away. Not that I really can push him any further at this point, it's just...I don't want to accidentally make things even worse. Aya can be pretty...sensitive, ya know?"
"That's why we're going to go about this subtly. Trust me, KenKen, I know how to work someone, and we're ALL gonna help you."
Omi nods enthusiastically, Shioshiro gives a hopeful nod, and Youji's emeralds are positively shimmering. Ken has to admit, this certainly sounds better than just sitting around doing nothing.
Smiling softly, and feeling perhaps the tiniest bit more confident that everything just might work out, Ken is about to ask Youji what he has in mind when the group's attention is suddenly brought to the road. Acar is heading towards their RV to park next to it, a whirl of dust wafting up into the air as it comes to a stop. The group takes a few cautious steps towards it and watches as a very beautiful woman gets out.
Ran comes out from behind the RV just then, and all of them recognize the woman instantly if only by how much her hair matches his.
Manx.
A/N:
Another part! This part was never originally going to exist but just popped into my head. I rather like it, despite Ran's pissiness. Sorry to those who thought he was going to come around faster. I'm afraid not. He plans to be stubborn for a while.
Shido: thank you so much! you make me proud.
Evey: Should I say this...? Well, if you've seen the OVA, than you know that Ken got this freaky look on his face when he killed Powell, like he was enjoying it way too much. Then...in Dramatic Precious...he goes a little...insane. Farfie insane. He doesn't kill outside a mission..."yet"...as he puts it, but...it's pretty freaky, and Hiro doesn't want him going down that road.
Seph Lorraine: The "holy-pairing". Oh yes, indeed! I know Ken doesn't quite go all out, but he will...in time. P.S. I believe the fic is already engaged to someone on the KenxAya ML, but threesomes are fun!
That about wraps things up. Can you guess who Omi was talking to? If you've seen Gluhen it makes even more sence than fangirl fun. Anyhoo, hope this chapter pleased, and don't forget the feedback. ;-) Love you all!
Crim