It was such a nuisance.
Of course he wanted to complete the mission, wanted to get the money from it, wanted to pay his sister's hospital bills. And this mission paid well, so he wasn't about to say no. But he didn't want to go out to little a cabin in the mountains and baby-sit for a naive student computer programmer. It was just so obvious that that blue-haired, so-called university student was a sham. So obvious that he was the one who needed to be killed. But thanks to the presence of aforementioned computer programmer, student impersonator couldn't just be killed on the spot. No no. It had to be done covertly or else Michiru would find out about Weiss. And then she'd have to die along with the criminal.
So now they had to make an excuse, had to get out of the house, wait for the guy—what was his name?—to try to kill her and then kill him and any other thugs who might be lurking around, by leaping out of the shadows themselves.
And presently he was driving off into the woods, with Ken nonetheless, with no purpose other than to hide the car there. And Ken was driving. He'd be lucky if he managed to get back to the Villa White without crashing into a tree.
"You're driving too fast," he stated, simply, nonchalantly.
"What do you mean I'm driving too fast?" the brown haired boy beside him demanded.
"I mean that you are putting too much pressure on the accelerator and the vehicle is moving too quickly to be safe."
"You're one to talk Aya," Ken retorted sharply. "You're the one who got two speeding tickets last month cruisin' around in that porsche of yours."
"Yes, but in both cases I was on main roads with nothing impairing my vision and no hazards," Aya returned. "And I only got one ticket. The other was just a warning."
"Tch! Okay, whatever. I've still never gotten a speeding ticket in my life, thank you very much."
"You on the other hand are driving a vehicle not well suited for all terrain driving, through a coniferous forest, over partially frozen snow, while trying to avoid and see around snow covered pine and fir trees," the redheaded assassin continued, ignoring his companion, though he was vaguely aware that the other boy had spoken.
Ken slammed on the breaks, bringing the car to a screeching halt, mere inches from the trunk of an ancient, towering, pine.
"And therefore, you are driving too fast," Aya said, smirking slightly, quite pleased with his analysis. He glanced over at Ken who's cheeks were scarlet, though whether from anger or embarrassment Aya could not tell.
It's for his own good. If I hadn't said anything he wouldn't have been thinking about it and right now we'd be wrapped around that tree.
An awkward silence followed. Aya was certainly not opposed to a good deal of silence and on a daily basis, but this silence was not a comfortable, I can concentrate on whatever I am currently occupying myself with silence. This silence was intense, heavy, yet fragile, bound to break at any second. But if it would shatter piercingly with Ken protesting the veracity of Aya's diagnosis of his driving skills or merely splinter away with Ken successively opening and closing the car door, then wandering dejectedly back in the general direction of the cabin, remained a mystery.
Why doesn't he say something? He should realize that he made a mistake, accept it, and learn from it.
However, while Aya felt quite certain that it was Ken's responsibility to break this silence, he wasn't sure what he wanted him to say. He just knew he wanted him to talk, to say anything.
"Well?" Aya said finally, unable to further tolerate the growing tension.
"Well what?" Ken replied, but placidly. And this annoyed Aya, because usually the tan-skinned, brown-eyed youth was irritable and belligerent when dealing with him. Not that Aya enjoyed being screamed at, but the screaming and occasional jabs narrowly missing his jaw were oral and physical proof that Ken listened to what he said. Listened, considered, and understood.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Aya half demanded, glaring fervently at his inept driver. The boy's head was held straight, but his eyes were downcast, his lips drawn into a dispassionate line.
"What do you want me to say?" Ken's head turned slightly in Aya's direction.
"Well-" Aya began, but was forced to pause as he abruptly recalled the fact that he did not have an answer to this question.
"That you're right? That I was driving too fast, that if you hadn't made me aware of that fact, we'd have crashed into the tree, that I've learned my lesson and I promise never to do it again, and thank God for you because surely if you weren't here to constantly remind me that I'm a fucking idiot I would be lying dead in ditch somewhere by now?" Ken implored, his tone scaling rapidly.
"That'll do." So he was listening after all Aya mused.
"What do you mean 'that'll do'? That's enough, that's what you want to hear, that's not quite what you want, but it works? By all means, tell me exactly what you want, so that I can grovel at your feet and oblige!"
"Ken, you're being ridiculous. Get you're temper under control and call Omi so we can get on with the mission," Aya commanded. Honestly, doesn't he know that I just wanted to make sure he heard me? All the things I tell him are for his own sake and I just like to know that they penetrate his thick skull.
Without warning, Ken drew his arm back and thrust his fist frantically at his companion. Quick reflexes and habit prompted Aya to veer sideways, narrowly dodging the punch. But Ken had attacked with such vigor that his entire body was thrown forward, and though he had missed with his hand, his forehead collided with that of his intended target. Aya's back crashed audibly against the car door as his attacker's body crumpled awkwardly against him.
A need to recover from shock left them momentarily paralyzed, faces mere inches apart, noses practically touching. Aya could feel Ken's breath hot and tremulous on his face, could see the round brown eyes, mirrored in his own, widen as awareness returned, then flood with something like humiliation. Yet still the moment lingered, as blood rushed to Ken's boyish face, and Aya suddenly felt compelled to raise a fairly impeded arm to touch a blushing cheek.
"A-Aya . . ." Ken began uncertainly, his voice a breathless whisper. But it was enough to revive reality and dispel the remote gentleness in Aya's violet eyes.
"Get off me," Aya snarled, lowering his wandering hand to Ken's shoulder and pushing. The shorter boy toppled back into the driver's seat, shoulders slumping forward, and chin dropping to chest.
There was silence again, another agitated silence. Aya sat upright, glowering at Ken. What was that? he thought, irritated. Why the hell did I feel the need to touch him like that?
It had felt good, right somehow. He couldn't explain it. But Ken's cheek had felt so warm, so real, the contact so pacifying, so natural. However the point was that his muscles had acted independently of his reason and that was completely unheard of. He was in total control of every aspect of his self and somehow Ken had altered that fact. Ken with his unruly hair, saucy eyes, infant coordination, ungovernable temper, and hopeless impetuosity; it was unacceptable.
Aya's eyes narrowed and his hand clenched. What is wrong with me?
"I- I'm sorry," Ken stammered, hand fumbling in his coat pocket. He stopped and produced a grey and black cellphone. "I didn't mean for that to happen."
"Yes? And I suppose what you did mean to happen was the breaking of my jaw or nose courtesy of your fist."
"I don't know." He began to dial. "I wasn't thinking. I'll just call Omi now. Let's just get on with the mission." He brought the phone to his ear and waited.
Aya looked ahead, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to calm his swelling anger. No need to yell at him. He couldn't have hit me any way, he's tried one too many times for that. But he really should learn to control that temper. It's so childish. That must be it! He acts like a child, so I want to . . . protect him. That's what I see him as, a child. Adults feel naturally compelled to protect children. How ridiculous! If he would just grow up, I wouldn't have this problem.
"Omi?" Ken's voice rang faintly. "Yeah, it's Ken. We've hidden the car in woods. Come meet us now, by the edge." A pause. "Just say, the car broke down."
That voice was the source of all of Aya's problems. He was certain of it. It was entirely Ken's fault that his control had slipped. But now that he knew, he was sure it wouldn't happen again. Ever.