The basement was a mess. Just the way they'd left it. The S.D.s had gotten to it when they went to get Takatori. It was in shambles when they, victorious, returned, bullet holes blasted in everything, the walls, the furniture, the television. But there had been no point in fixing it up, since they didn't need it any more. Though it was not used solely for receiving missions, that was its primary purpose. And there weren't going to be any more missions to receive.

At least that was the plan. Takatori was dead. Weiss had served its purpose. Persia had died, but got his revenge. And Manx disappeared. So there was no one to give them missions any more. No one to keep them together. No reason to stay together. Weiss dissolved and everyone went their separate ways.

Sort of. Ken and Omi still lived together, though they'd moved from the desolated flower shop to an apartment several blocks away. Omi was still in school and couldn't make enough money to rent a place. Not that Ken was exactly financially stable, but he did manage to make enough money coaching elementary soccer teams and waiting tables to get by. Yohji was constantly moving about Tokyo doing God knows what. Ken had seen him once or twice in the earliest weeks following Takatori's death, but not since then. He did respond when Omi emailed him once, but it was just a short, polite, "I'm moving around a lot, hope all is well with you" response. Aya took off for some beach somewhere near some hospital where he moved his little sister to. He'd said he thought the climate out there would be better for her, though that was ridiculous since she certainly wasn't going to be sitting outside enjoying the warm sun's warmth and fresh air. Being in a coma and all.

Ken suspected the reason Aya really chose to take off to some distant locale and leave no real indication of his whereabouts was that he had no intention of ever having anything to do with any of them ever again. It seemed that Omi agreed with this conjecture, since he hadn't bothered to write to him until a week and half ago and implied no dismay at the thought of receiving no reply. And reply Aya did not.

And though Omi was unfazed, Ken was quite the contrary. No, he hadn't honestly expected Aya to write back, but part of him had hoped. Really, sincerely hoped. Hoped that maybe Aya wouldn't reply to Omi, but would write to him, and tell him exactly where he was, and that he missed him desperately, and couldn't bear to be separated from him any longer. But really he knew that would never happen.

Ken had not been entirely the same since Aya kissed him. Or maybe he was the same but had simply become aware of certain aspects of himself that he never really noticed before. For example, his dependence on Aya. Aya's actions had always had an immense effect upon him, driving him to irrationality, pulling at his emotions, and he's always cared overly much about Aya's opinion, but until feeling the redhead's vicious, passionate kiss upon his lips he did not acknowledge this. And since he had acknowledged it, it had grown, beyond simply needing win Aya's approval, but physically needing to be in his presence. Needing to work by him in the flower shop, needing to be by his side during every mission. It was all he could do to keep from going crazy, since Aya had shown no indication that he needed Ken or that he even cared at all for him since their kiss. It was almost as if it never happened.

But it did and Ken knew it did, though he often tried to pretend it didn't. If he pretended that it never happened it was easier to pretend that he didn't need Aya.

He didn't start doing that until Aya left Weiss, not long after the death of Omi's sister Ouka, intending to exact his revenge on Reiji Takatori on his own. Though he hadn't know for sure, Ken had suspected that Aya was probably not exactly thrilled with the fact that Persia, the man he was taking orders from, was himself a Takatori and this had likely influenced his flight. Then Weiss had a mission, which they had to attempt without Aya. And Ken had charged off determinedly with Omi and Yohji into what all of them knew was a trap, pretending they didn't need Aya. Pretending he didn't need Aya, that he in fact, didn't give a damn about him. Unfortunately almost being killed in action only to be saved just in time by a returned Aya did not boost the credibility of this notion.

For a moment Ken had allowed himself to believe that Aya really had returned to rescue them. That Aya seriously cared about them and would have mourned their deaths. Maybe even really struggled to live on without them. Without him. But then after they'd killed Takatori, Aya took off mumbling about the beach and his sister's recovery and only half saying good bye.

So Ken was back to pretending. Not only pretending that he could live without Aya, but that he could live without Weiss, that he could lead a normal life. And be happy doing so. That is, he was pretending this, until Schoen showed up and killed a truck driver, causing the unmanned truck to nearly run over himself and several of the children he coached.

That had happened this afternoon. Now it was night and he was in the basement. Just trying to collect his thoughts. Or so he'd told himself, but really he was contemplating Weiss. Contemplating the fact that it seemed possible that it would form again. Contemplating the fact a part of him wanted it to form again. Trying to convince himself that this was not true, that he would not be happy returning to that life.

He sat down on the couch, despite the bullet holes in it, and buried his face in his hands. I'm so pathetic, he thought. Here he was sitting in a half decimated, cold and unlit basement and happier than he'd been in almost two months. Since Weiss disbanded and he left the basement behind. But just being there was enough, enough to make him realize that he really did want Weiss to reform, that he wanted to go back to living above the flower shop, manning it in the day and killing criminals in the night. Not that he enjoyed killing people, on the contrary he hated it, but so long as he kept on killing, Omi, Yohji and Aya were near him. And that was a price he was willing to pay, if killing was the only thing that would keep them together.

Do I honestly expect them to all show up here? To come charging down the stairs and say "screw normal life, I want to be an assassin again"?

He knew Omi wanted to return to Weiss. Not for the same reasons he did, but because the kid genuinely cared about the welfare of the innocents they used to able to protect from unpunishable criminals and couldn't stand helplessly watching them suffer. Not that Ken didn't care too, but caring was not his primary motivation.

Given a reason Yohji would probably come back. Any old reason would do. Ken was sure he missed he and Omi as much as they missed him, which was more than the green-eyed blonde cared to say, but given any excuse to be used as motivation, would return. And he cared about the innocent as well. All of them, and not just the women, as he claimed.

But Aya was not coming back. He had no lingering attachments to Weiss, no love for its members. No concern for the innocent. Just his sister, and he had her, far away, probably somewhere much nicer and safer than Tokyo. What Aya had was the ability to have a normal life, since he still had some one to anchor him to it. A real family. Not some makeshift one of fictive "kin" and sympathy.

Once again Aya proves that he's a genius. Or at least a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. He had a piece of his former life remaining and he held on to it. He devoted himself entirely to his sister and kept the rest of us away. And now he's free and when his sister wakes up, he'll have a real life again. But I-

Ken willed himself to stop thinking. Not that such a phenomena was possible, but it was nice to imagine that it was. Because whenever he was thinking he was thinking about Aya, and when he was thinking about Aya, he was thinking about the fact that he would never see him again. And that hurt too much.

So Ken sat absorbing the darkness. Waiting.

The soft clank of shoes against the metal drew Ken's attention the top of the spiral staircase. Surely it was Omi, worrying that Ken was not at home and guessing where he was. But the silhouette that slowly began to distinguish itself from the surrounding shadows was too tall to be Omi, and the footsteps had been too careful anyway. Yohji then. But it was too short to be Yohji.

Ken's pulse raced and he inhaled sharply. He dared not believe it was Aya.

But it was. The figure came to a halt at the foot of the stairs, and washed in the smallest amount of moonlight shining though the windows of the hall above, Ken could could see beyond a shadow of a doubt that Aya did indeed stand before him. Yet still he seemed unreal, his features made almost ghostly by the eerie light, like an apparition from a dream. He was beautiful, dressed all in black, save for a white collar, his skin the whiter for the contrast against the dark clothing, but the air about him was colder than ever. His eyes were terrifying.

"Aya," Ken hazarded, half-expecting him to vanish. Disconcerting as he was to behold, not to behold him would be far more unsettling. Especially since three minutes ago Ken was certain that he would never look upon him again.

Aya said nothing. He just stood, staring blankly. Ken rose to his feet and approached cautiously. Though Aya had not yet dematerialized or dissipated, Ken was still reluctant to accept his presence as reality. He walked within arms length and placed a hand on the taller boy's shoulder. It was solid.

Ken wanted to cry. Tears of joy, tears of relief. He had been wrong. Aya had returned and was standing before him. Ken wanted to embrace him, wanted to throw his arms about his neck, and kiss him, and cry into his shoulder. But before he let his emotions get the better of him, he realized there was a single, pressing question he needed to ask.

"Aya, what are you doing here?" That wasn't it but it was a start.

No reply.

So Ken continued, afraid of the answer. "Why did you come back?"

Aya was silent for another moment. He stepped away from Ken's hand. Finally he said, "It's complicated."

Complicated? "I was attacked by one of the Schreient, I think," Ken said. Maybe explaining his own reasons could lure a response out of Aya. Maybe not, but it was worth a try. "I don't know for sure, but I thought I saw Schoen lurking behind a tree a the soccer field earlier today, and this truck almost ran into me because the driver was dead. It looked like he'd been strangled to death by a whip, and she fought with a whip. So I came back here, thinking maybe some one else had been attacked too, and maybe they'd come here to try to think of something to do about it."

And maybe they'd stay here and live here. Maybe everyone would and it could be like old times again.

"Oh," Aya said, after a while.

"But Aya, you never really answered me. Why did you come back? You said it was complicated, so tell me."

After all, 'complicated' could mean so many things, which Ken did not care to think about presently.

"I don't want to talk about it," Aya declared.

"Were you attacked too?" Ken continued, half ignoring his companion. "Did you find out about some horrible criminal organization and you want to put a stop to it? You know the other day Omi-"

"I said I didn't want to talk about it, and I meant it," Aya snapped.

"Come on Aya, just tell me." Why do I keep on asking him? He's never going to give me the answer I want.

Silence, once again was the only reply.

Ken was getting angry. Here he was again with Aya left guessing at what the redhead was thinking. Guessing at his motivation. He'd thought he had it all figured out before when he decided Aya distanced himself from Weiss to devote himself entirely to his little sister, but now here he was. Maybe it would have been better if he didn't come back at all. He'd returned, but he was still far away. Emotionally anyway, or at least that was the way he was acting.

"Aya, honestly," Ken began, distraught. "Why did you come back? If you weren't attacked and there's no one you want to bring to justice, then why are you here? Is it us? Did you come back to see us? Did you miss us? Miss . . . me?"

Aya's eyes narrowed and his lips tightened.

Something's bothering him. He's always cold, but never this angry. Why won't he just tell me? Can't he even just confide in me? As a friend?

"Aya there's something bothering you. I know it. Tell me what's wrong!"

Aya glared at him for a long moment. Then punched him. And tackled him to the floor. How redundant all this fighting had become!

And they wrestled, fiercely, backs rolling, bruising against hardwood floor, struggling for dominance, hands all the while at each others' arms and shoulders. Time found Aya, the taller and slightly stronger, victorious. Ken struggled to get up, but the pressure of Aya's hands driving his shoulders into the ground nearly obliterated any hope of doing so. With enough writhing about, he managed to get his arms free enough to swing wildly but futilely at his attacker. To end this, Aya grabbed Ken's flailing wrists and pinned them down above his head, all the while driving a knee into his torso. Instinctively, Ken's hands clawed up, nails attempting to dig into the wrists of the fists which bound them. And his teeth snapped at the face looming so near above his own, half in retaliation, half out of frustration for his inability to retaliate with result. Noticing this, Aya glared down at him, viciously, narrowed violet eyes fixed on galled brown. For a moment.

Then everything changed. Aya's face buried in Ken's neck, kissing it, kissing the hollow of the shoulder blade, trailing kisses up his throat, along the jawbone, to the ear, tongue flicking in the inner cartilage. Hands were rushing down the brunette's sides, fighting frantically against the two layers of tee-shirts, finding their way beneath, caressing the smooth muscled chest they concealed. Fingers laced in belt-loops and under the waist band of denim jeans and Ken's hips shifted involuntarily towards the touch. He clutched desperately at Aya's back and their mouths met, Ken's parting automatically to allow Aya's tongue within. Brawling turned to foreplay and clothing was hastily, urgently discarded yielding way to sex.

Or would have had the brawling happened in the first place. But it didn't. It was a possibility, maybe, but not real. Ken imagined, it pretended it, played out in his mind an ending to their encounter laden with passion, intensity, feeling. Meaning. It was much better than the real thing.

It really ended with Aya staring blankly at the floor after Ken insisted he tell him why he came back a second time. It ended with Ken getting frustrated and wanting to scream and Yohji's footsteps on the stairs. It ended with Aya retreating to the far wall, Yohji sitting on the couch, and Ken sulking on a stool.

Essentially it ended with nothing. No clues as to why Aya returned, no hints about what he was thinking. No indication that he cared, no follow-ups to the first kiss months ago.

Yohji readily explained that he was attacked by the Schreient girl Neu who looked like his late partner Asuka. The lights switched on and Omi was on the stairs. They were back at the beginning. Weiss, a family, who needed each other, except for Aya, needed but not needing.