Dyed Crimson
The Weaver Atropos

Dyed Crimson, Scarlett II

Ken was tired. Dead tired. He would've never thought that being Aya could be so positively exhausting. The redhead followed an almost impossible schedule—not that he hadn't known that…but knowing and experiencing were two entirely different things. Especially since he was now expected to mimic Aya's life to a fault. "I hate Manx."

A chuckling voice eased him from his thoughts, and seeking to glare at whomever it was who had interrupted his mental rant, he raised his head from the cradle of his arms…and came face to face with Youji. Oh, how he was beginning to understand Aya's dislike for the blond. Groaning, he let his head fall back into his arms. His voice was a grumble. "What do you want?"

"Nothing much. You're really starting to be like, Aya…glaring at me wherever I go."

"Yeah, well. I haven't been sleeping. Damn it, but Aya's sword is impossible to handle."

"Ah," Youji settled himself beside Ken with a nod. He could understand how that would be…especially considering it often took people years to master any type of weapon. Ken was expected to do so in a week. And Aya's katana was hardly light. Made of steel and reinforced wood, it weighed at least seven pounds. Knowing that, it was no wonder that Aya was so difficult to overwhelm in a fist-fight.

Regardless…Youji hated to be the bearer of bad news. "Well," he paused and ruffled the brunette's hair affectionately, "you had better get used to it. Manx wants you to use the katana in the next few missions."

Ken's head shot up, eyes looking positively aghast. Then, the anger settled in. "Is she serious? How 'bout I go use that damn katana on her—" Halfway through his sentence, Ken had already shot out of his seat, trying to remember where it was he'd left the sword their leader was so fond of using. "See how she likes being sliced in half by that twenty-pound piece of—"

"Calm down, Kenken…" Youji placed a restraining hand on the soccer player's shoulder. "The mission's in three days. Two days later we hit Yamoi's. It's only natural that Manx put you up against someone who's trying to murder you for real—as…anal as Aya can be, he's not the type to really try and slice you up."

Ken grumbled something under his breath. "What was that, Ken?"

"I'm having doubts about that. He sure as hell seems to be wanting to slice, dice, and mince me."

Youji's rich chuckle filled the room once more. "I doubt it…maybe you can't see it right now—and, since you can't, I'm not about to tell you…but, Aya doesn't hate you. Quite the contrary. But, I guess you'll realize that soon enough. Till then, don't let it go to your head—so, try and keep the death threats to a minimum, okay?"

A plate sailed three inches to the right of Youji's head.

Damn. Too bad aim wasn't his forte…

Aya was a lot more different than what people thought him to be. Ken drew in a deep breath and pondered over all the things he'd learned about the redhead in the past few days. For one, he was a lot stronger than what Ken had ever given him credit for. The night before, he'd nearly choked Ken to death, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he was used to it—Berserker seemed to have a knack for it—he was sure Weiss would've lost their would-be decoy.

But there was something else. Something that made him uncomfortable. Ken knitted his eyebrows and a pensive frown appeared on his lips. Last night…when he'd been with Aya, there'd been something he'd seen. A scar. Right on the back of his neck. Subconsciously, and quite unaware of what he was doing, Ken fingered his own scar, which—ironically enough—also lay at the base of his neck. Kase had given him that one…

He wondered how Aya had gotten it. He knew it hadn't been in a mission…because he'd never seen it, nor heard Aya complain of it. He supposed it could've happened sometime in his youth—before or after the Takatori incident…before he joined Weiss. It was hard for him to think of a time when Aya hadn't been in Weiss. In his mind, their little group had always been together…always worked at the Koneko, always eaten their ramen noodles in front of the TV…always waited for Persia's missions. He often forgot that they'd all had some sort of life before Weiss.

It made him feel nostalgic. Melancholy over his own past, wistful over the lives of the rest of his friends. Because…well, they were his friends…and, Ken felt a little guilty at his lack of foresight. He'd never actually thought about how their lives could've been…or were, at some point.

Fingering the scar once more, Ken gave another sigh and continued sweeping the floor of the store, aware and careless of the fact that he'd been over the same spot more than ten times.

He had to stay with Aya again that night. Talk about the mission. But he didn't want to. He hated to hear him talk. It made him feel too guilty. Perhaps…he was starting to understand why Mastermind called himself Schuldich. It made sense to him, then…though, it really shouldn't have.

He was going crazy…he was going crazy and he knew it. But what else could he do? He'd known the moment he'd entered Weiss that he would his sanity the instant he crossed the threshold into their home. And he hadn't cared…because, as far as he'd been concerned at the time…he was already dead.

"If you keep on torturing the broom like that, I might deduct it from your paycheck. Cleaning one-twentieth of the Koneko is hardly a fulfilling shift."

Ken was startled out of his thoughts. Dropping the broom, and wincing at the series of loud crashes that followed, the brunette hid his face behind his palms. When he finally dared to inspect the damage, through a gap in his fingers, it was to find that his falling broom had taken with it an entire shelf of clay pots, arrangements, and inventory listings. He groaned.

"God…"

Aya's piercing voice broke through his thoughts once more, "I don't see any point in talking to the air, Ken. It'won't answer. It never does."

Chocolate brown eyes turned at the voice, taking in the slightly disheveled crimson locks that were framing a pale, almost sickly looking ivory face. Aya really was too pale for his own good. Almost…almost like… "Like an angel…"

Aya paused in his brooming, having left his perch by the counter and begun to sweep up what remained of their newly purchased pots, and stared at Ken somewhat awkwardly. "Excuse me?"

Ken seemed to only just wake up, focusing his eyes on Aya's own with a deep pink flush. "Uh…uh…"

"The pots are coming out of your paycheck."

All Ken could do was nod…numbly. And then, "But you made me drop them--"

"I did not. You dropped them of your own accord."

"Yeah you did. You came in here and—"

"I didn't grab your hand and force you to take down that shelf."

I didn't force you to kill…

The younger man shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. He was having that problem as of late. Aya cast him another odd look and, seemingly trying to draw him out of whatever daze he was in, continued, "3600 yen."

That comment breathed life in Ken…though perhaps not the kind that Aya would've liked. "What! 3600 yen! For that piece of shit! It must've cost only about 700, Aya…why do I have to pay TRIPLE?"

"It's not triple."

Ken wanted to pull his hair out, "Why do you always focus on the wrong part of what I say?"

"I'm not. It's not triple. And it'll backorder our clients."

Ken's next retort died down in his throat, "Oh." Once more, Aya eyed him warily.

"Did Youji tell you?"

Dark chocolate swept upwards. Ken licked his lips subconsciously, "About the next mission? Yeah. Bastard."

Aya's eyebrow rose curiously, but he brushed the comment away, "Tonight. Meet me on the roof."

"Hmm? What for?"

"Last katana practice."

"But…" Ken faltered at Aya's straightforward gaze, "but the mission's not for another three days—"

"You either come or you don't. It's not all that complicated, Ken."

"Bastard."

Ken grumbled under his breath. Currently, it was eight thirty and since Aya hadn't specified exactly what 'tonight' meant, he'd figured it was time to get ready. The brunette's cheeks burned a little at the thought of getting 'ready' for Aya…as if it were some sort of date. "He'd sooner kill me."

Lacing up his boots absentmindedly, he wondered why Aya would've deemed tonight their 'last practice.' It wasn't as though they had anything else to do—as far as Weiss was concerned, anyway. It could've had something to do with his sister, though. Ken paused. That was a likable alibi. If ever there was anything that could tear Aya away from Weiss and the shop, it was his sister. And…considering the forthcoming missions would have the redhead targeted, it only made sense for him to try and see his sister as much as he could. Leave her 'set', so to speak.

Ken found that the fact unnerved him. Aya was the type that—though he didn't fear death—wasn't dense to its likelihood, either. Especially in their line of work. But…Aya had always had a sort of 'I'll kill anything in my way' persona, and the realization that he was considering his possible death made Ken uneasy. He wondered if he had had some sort of premonition. It would certainly explain his behavior as of late.

Straightening slightly, Ken heaved a sigh and fell backwards on his bed, head cradled in his arms. It certainly was a lot to think about…and he really didn't have the time for it. A quick glance at his fluorescent neon clock showed that it was fifteen minutes short of nine.

Ken wondered if Aya would ever speak to him if he didn't show up.

Then again, murder was more of a likely option.

So, despite his sluggish laziness, Ken made of point of climbing the myriad of steps to the roof of the Koneko.

"I've got the dye," as he spoke, Youji rattled a small, brown bag. "Got it at the depot. Even went undercover—"

Omi smiled, taking in the sight of the blonde in faded, loose blue jeans, and an even baggier gray shirt. The ensemble, in and of itself, was neither out of style, nor unflattering—especially when coupled with Youji's naturally sensual aura and lean, attractive frame. But…for Youji, the outfit was incredibly average, and thus—not him. It was more Kenken, he'd said.

Whether the comment would've insulted the brunette or not was yet to be seen. Ken rather prided himself on his attire, after all. Regardless, Omi was grateful for Youji's attempts at lessening the severity of the situation. It was difficult knowing two of their closest allies—both in life and profession—were shortly going to be stepping into a dangerous situation.

Neither of the two was stupid. They understood the mission parameters just as well as they understood the percentage of success…and, while it wasn't high, they knew better than to approach the situation with a negative mindset. To quote what Youji had said offhandedly so many times, 'If you go in thinkin' you're gonna die, you might as well write your will and build your coffin.'

But still…their nerves were on edge. Secrecy was a vital part of this particular mission, and they couldn't risk even the smallest triviality of fact to be unguarded. If the mission was to work out as they had planned, then Ken would have to remain absolutely locked up over the next few days—especially since Persia had decided, probably on Kritiker's orders, to give Ken real experience with the katana—lest he risk exposing his identity. That meant he had two days after the mission prior to Yamoi in which to train…and stay completely hidden.

Damn but did Persia's new orders put a stopper to their plans. It was going to be damn near difficult to run the flowershop without raising some sort of suspicion over Ken's supposed absence. And since they had no exact idea of who their enemy might be, several forced and adultered explanations were going to have to be at hand. Youji hoped the brunette's fanclub would be satisfied by a simple, "he's sick."

He doubted they would be.

Try as he might, however, he still couldn't quite comprehend why Kritiker would put them all in such precarious positions. They knew—better than anyone, he'd wager—the importance of being clandestine in their line of work…it made little sense that they so unwontedly suggest Ken reveal himself as a decoy so early before the actual date of the mission. It was risky, suspicious, and damn near suicidal.

He'd discuss the matter with the redhead if he felt it'd do any good, but he doubted Aya would give him much of an ear. The man could be stubborn as a goat when he willed it so, and—though he had yet to fail his duty to protect Weiss' health and self-interest as team leader—he found it unlikely that he would concede to their 'skipping' the mission. As it was, he doubted Kritiker would even allow them to. They were the most talented assassin group available, after all, and though they were paid for their missions, Kritiker certainly had enough influence to have them outed should they prove uncooperative or dangerous…which was another cause for worry.

Youji wondered if Kritiker was beginning to doubt the power of the assassin group they'd so meticulously put together. He couldn't help but ponder at the possibility that the whole mission be only a trap on their part to rid themselves of the 'danger' they posed. And that belief, in and of itself, was deadly. Weiss was nothing if it doubted its boss. It might as well be dead—by will—at the notion.

And…well, Kritiker had been known to push them into certain missions, mostly through suggestive threats directed at Ran's sister…most of which hadn't been well received by the redhead. But he had complied, though, realistically, he hadn't needed to. Although Kritiker had the means by which to dispose of them, they would have trouble if they tried. For one, Omi was talented enough to hack into their toughest systems ten times over, and Aya was a scrupulous enough leader to know how much of what they said was fact and how much was fiction. Combined—what with his intuition and Ken's hot temper—they were a force to be reckoned with, and Kritiker sure as hell knew that. That was part of the reason they were so successful. Weiss was like the proverbial symbiotic parasite to its host: the only reason the host let the parasite live, aside from the fact that it was useful to it, was because it didn't know how to rid itself of it. Still…he couldn't shake the feeling that something was being kept from them, and he knew he needed to share that knowledge with someone else—if not the entire Weiss. The clearest choice was Omi.

And, seeing as how they were currently sitting together, the overall atmosphere comfortable despite the impending stress of the mission gnawing at the back of their minds, it was an excellent opportunity to discuss his most recent in-findings.

Omi was an excellent listener, mostly by part of his empathetic nature, and never failed to make one feel better. As it was, he seemed to be able to tell something was bothering him, and large sapphire eyes narrowed almost immeasurably at him. He said nothing, of course, as he often preferred to be approached than to pry. Youji caught his gaze and nodded. "It's this mission," he admitted truthfully, "I don't like it."

A thoughtful nod reciprocated his suspicions. "It's too…too vague. Kritiker never does things without reason, and the pretense that Yamoi is behind it all—regardless of whether it's an error in their intelligence or not—it a bit thin, even for them."

Letting the boy's words sink in, Youji decided that he agreed. He let his gaze skim the kitchen absently, thinking…wondering what could really be going on, when he realized the youth was speaking again. "I'd hack into their servers and download they information if I didn't think they'd already altered it into making some semblance of sense. They're not dumb…and they know that we're not dumb, either. They know we'd try and get the information. I wouldn't be surprised if they have it under lock and key, and have only a single copy of it, if at that."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was all some sort of verbal agreement between two people, chibi."

Omi let the nickname slide on basis of the gravity of their conversation. He gave a stern nod. "I just can't help but think this has more to do with Aya than even he realizes. And it can't have been something that's been going on all along, or they would've moved in for the kill sooner, don't you think?"

Youji hesitated in his response, jade eyes seeming truly thoughtful for a few seconds. And then, "I really don't know, Omi…I really don't know…It might've been a ploy on their part to gain our trust and catch us when our guard is down…or, it might be a result of something they've only just figured out. I think they would've done something sooner, too…put us in danger's claws without adequate information, so to speak, so that they could erase us without remorse. And then there's Aya…we don't know much about him either way. Except for his sister, and even that was something that wasn't volunteered by him."

"Yeah. Maybe…maybe he agrees with the mission because there's something he knows?"

"Only way to find out is to ask him…and I doubt he'll give us a straight answer. Besides, it doesn't strike me as if he would keep something from us that would put us in danger—at least not consciously. He's in the same boat as us…in more trouble maybe, as the mission focuses almost entirely on him."

"No…" Omi corrected, frowning as his eyebrows drew in together, "It's Ken…he's the one in danger—he's the 'Aya' from the missions…maybe…do you think maybe they're really after him, and are trying to conceal the fact by making it seem as though they're after Aya? Why the entire plot, after all? Why the need for a decoy? We could've just all not gone—or have Aya not show up. It doesn't makes sense…it's not logical at all."

"Yeah, I get what you mean—"

"And that's not all…I mean, why only Aya? If they figured out his identity, then they rightly well should've figured ours too, don't you think?"

Youji raked long, dexterous fingers through his hair and sighed, seeming all the more confused, "Nothing, nothing makes sense here. It's not as though they'd know you or me wouldn't take the decoy mission—"

The smaller blonde nodded in understanding, then paused and seemed doubtful, "They certainly knew I couldn't do it—not if we wanted it to be convincing…and we wanted it as such, because we'd stupidly be putting ourselves in danger otherwise…and they could've at least assumed you wouldn't've done it. You're a hard character to second guess. Once someone knows your preferences, everything else is pretty cleancut. Manx certainly knows you well enough to vouch for that."

"Man, chibi…we've only got five more days to figure this out…"

"Well," Omi stood and moved towards Youji, somewhat of a reassuring—if strained—smile on his lips. He suddenly looked a lot younger to the other man, "we can always skip out on the mission and move to Mexico….or Canada."

Youji looked oddly at the youth. "Wouldn't Korea be closer?"

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