Youji's Daughter: An Arc of Years

by Nix Winter

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz.

This story series follows a story that is hosted at adultfanfiction(dot)net . Just search Youji's Daughter

Youji's Thoughts and meanderings:

Soooo once upon a time I was a bad ass assassin. I had tight black pants and a cool trench coat. Women and men swooned when I smiled. Okay.

Maybe not. Maybe a little?

And then I feel in love with a red headed bastard with a personal issues. Okay.

So we're killers. Maybe we all have personal issues.

Wanna see a picture of my daughter? She's two with dark red hair and green eyes. She's got little hands and she'll fall asleep if I hold her and rub her back, walking back and forth across the living room. She kind of cooes in her sleep. Amy. Our little Amy.

Ookay, her name is really Amethyst Ivy Kudou-Fujimiya. Her and Aya - that's life. Everything. I can do anything for them.

My baby doesn't understand, I mean, Aya, Aya's my baby. Amy, she's my little chickie. Just to make that clear, so .. my baby understands why I don't do missions. I wish he didn't. I understand why he does.

He's calmer now though. Amy tugs at those damn eartails he wears. Once, I swear on my soul, I about swallowed my soul when she was chewing on the handle of his katana. And he wants to know why I'm not okay with missions. Aside from the germs, which, I gotta tell you - blood is a nasty invitation to germs.. it's just bad for the soul.

It took him nearly a month to really convince me it was a virgin sword. The real working ones… those don't come home. Ever. Well once. But that was really a bad situation and I ended up putting twenty stitches in Aya's hide myself. He's getting old. I keep telling him that.

We've been married since before she was born, our Amy. That might be what's making him old, not just time. He knew what my cough passion meter was before he got with me. Monogamy is monogamy. And he can't say he doesn't like it too.

Still, trading in vinyl and lip gloss for crayons and plastic ponies…. I sound like some soap opera chick. I will have you know - I'm 100 male. Even if I did get pregnant. Long story, a story told elsewhere. Yeah. Really.

Even with Aya's missions, he's calmer now, hates less. I think somehow, not that it could ever make up anything or balance anything, but Takatori took his family, but gave back Amy. Takatori Masafumi was never sane. Ask me why he did what he did. I don't know.

Speaking of insane. Kritiker is cruel. I'm talking cruel here. As I don't take missions, I'm chained to a desk eight hours a day, while people scream about their personal problems to me, and then I get yelled at by my boss if I don't have enough empathy for their issues. And I'm thinking… I've killed people for less. yeah. Wire is my best friend. Wireless… my ass.

Assassins have special needs, after all. Can't really just call up and say, "I've got blood on my keypad and they're sticking now. Is that covered by insurance?" "Say, I've just used my phone as a detonator. Can you overnight me a new one? And I want a new headset, a pink one."

People ask questions if you say things like that. I'm in a special que. One thing I really didn't learn till I totally got that job… assassins are not nice people. You'd think that killing people would be a clue, but really, I had no idea. I mean, how is it my fault if you had to flush your phone to keep the contacts from your enemy? Just exactly how is that a warranty issue? If you rewire your phone so that it jacks into a Russian satellite, that is not something I can help you undo. I'm sorry. I don't know which wire to cute. Seriously. I can't see your phone from here. Try the microwave. Try saying that sounding serious and oh my stars… I didn't know my boss knew those kind of cuss words.

Really. I used to kill people too. Sure. I can have empathy. I empathize with Farfarello all the time, "Thank you for calling Hell's Cells. Where your life is our life."

Aya's Pov:

I don't have a set schedule. Work just comes up when it does. I visit my sister, and I take care of the house. Babies use a lot of diapers.

But then there are the moments.

I'm watching him. His stealth is out of practice, but there's my Youji.

His hair pulled back in a golden mane, jeans and a tee-shirt, a box behind his back, as he sneaks down the hall towards the living room. I can see everything. I have cameras.

In his stocking feet, the fancy Kudou Youji is already dancing to Puff the Magic Dragon, just a little bounce to his shoulder. The camera view shifts over as he rounds the corner and then there's a squeal I can hear all the way down the hall.

"Dadadadaaaaaa!" Amy bounces from one foot to the other, her eyes wide, the squeal long, and then she's flying, fat little toddler feet padding against the smooth hard wood floor. "Daddaddaaaa!"

My Youji's not haunted anymore, hasn't been for so long. He goes to one knee and her arms go around his neck. She's still dancing to the music I put on and then they're dancing together, with her kind of sitting on his arm, one arm still behind his back.

"I brought you something, Chickie girl," Youji said, his voice still velvety soft, smoky, the voice I've always known, but now there's something more innocent in it. Youji's cleaner now, and I don't know quite how that worked. Maybe I am too, as if that were possible. Maybe.

Not wanting to be left out, I pad my own way down the hall. They are sitting on the floor now, like two children. There's such a bond between them and I wonder if I can even come close to that at all, but then Youji looks over his shoulder at me, green eyes full of light, his smile easy and wholesome and he says, "I fixed the teapot, Papa. Make us some tea?"

It wouldn't have been possible to fix the teapot, as it had been in a few hundred pieces, but there it was, all perfect china and flowers and brand new. Youji was the hero. He's so beautiful and I love this blond lying playboy. "I'd be delighted to make tea."

"Papapapapa," Amy chanted, crawling, over to tug at the comfortable and unpressed slacks Aya wore. "Up!"

"Yes, dear," Aya said, lifting the little girl that looked so much like him. "Well, Daddy, bring the teapot and we'll have some tea."

Youji grinned and mouthed, "Up."

"Later," Aya said, giving Youji a quick look before starting for the kitchen.

"But not that much later," Youji said, following quickly after, "How was your day?"

Normal. Sweet. Aya was happy.