Fic Archive: Betrayal, 6
May. 28th, 2009 01:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texchan(Written: 2004)
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence
Summary: Aya slowly begins to rediscover his humanity, only to face betrayal at the hands of someone he trusted. Decisions he's made with regard to Kritiker come back to haunt him, as the organization decides to retire him, leaving Aya cornered, badly injured, and, along with Yohji, on the run with nowhere to turn for help except the very man who betrayed him. Events start to tumble at breakneck speed toward a conclusion, following the twisted course Fate seems to have decreed. Can Aya stay alive long enough to untangle the sticky web in which he, Yohji, and his friend-turned-betrayer find themselves ensnared?
Legal Stuff: As always, this story is intended to express one fan's genuine appreciation of Weiss Kreuz and its characters. It is just for fun and not for profit. If you have any rights in the anime described here and find the posting of this fanfiction offensive or harmful, please contact me, and I will be happy to remove it.
Author's Note: Story #2 in the "Nowhere Man" Trilogy. Story #1: Nowhere Man. Story #3: Redemption
Betrayal
Chapter 6
The rain had stopped for a while, but it had just started up again, a slow, steady drizzle that seemed to hang in the streetlights' glow like a soft, diaphanous curtain. Ken stood in the flower shop's back doorway and watched as Hank slowly walked down the alley. The normally cheerful, jovial man walked away from him looking like a much older person --- bent over, hunched against the slightly chilly breeze, and moving with a stumbling, slow gait as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Ken watched until Hank's figure blurred in the darkness between the streetlights, and, finally, seemed to blend in and melt away with the drizzling rain. Once he had disappeared completely, the ex-goalie retreated back into the warmth of the flower shop, lost in thought.
There was definitely something going on between Yohji and Hank, and Ken had a nagging suspicion that it had something to do with Schuldich's unexpected visit. All he wanted to do was pretend everything was fine, go back into the front room, and help Yohji clean up the mess, but the edgy, jittery feeling he'd gotten that afternoon, when he'd stumbled downstairs to find the shop and Aya wrecked, had grown steadily throughout the day. Now, it was screaming through his mind like a freight train, assaulting his senses, and he felt ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest provocation. No matter how much he wanted to ignore the uneasy feeling slowly taking over his mind, years of experience as an assassin had taught Ken not to ignore his instincts. They were almost always right.
He stood in the doorway leading into the front of the store and watched Yohji. The older man was silently going about the business of cleaning up, mopping up the water covering the floor, scooting the broken pottery into piles for easier pick up, and, occasionally, stooping to pick up a particularly large shard, which he would toss, unceremoniously, into the trash can in the middle of the room. Ken couldn't see his face, as his back was to the door, but the ex-goalie could tell that his older teammate was still very upset. To most people, the tall blonde would appear perfectly calm, completely recovered from his earlier outburst and scuffle with Hank, but Ken wasn't most people. He had lived, worked, and killed with Yohji for longer than he cared to remember --- long enough that he could read the older man's body language like an open book. Everything about the blonde --- the stiffness in his shoulders and back, hands clenching the mop handle so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, the way he angrily shoved water and broken pottery around the floor with quick, jerking motions --- told Ken that Yohji was anything but calm. Yohji was protective of all of them, but, especially so with Aya. Where the redhead was concerned, the tall blonde had a mother bear vicious streak, and Ken had no doubt that, if Hank had been involved in Schuldich's attack in any way, the chain-smoking idiot would kill him the next time they met. He figured he had watched Yohji kill hundreds of people in a cold, emotionless, methodical manner, but he hadn't ever seen the tall blonde driven to the point of uncontrolled, homicidal rage --- until today. Ken decided that he had to be careful in approaching Yohji right now. The older man was still upset about Aya and full of unspent rage, a combination that could make him deadly dangerous. Ken didn't have any desire to fight with the blonde, and he wanted to protect himself from injury. But, more than that, he wanted to protect Yohji from doing something he would regret later. After several minutes, Ken decided that his only choice was to gamble on the chance that their friendship, a bond forged in blood, would protect him from Yohji's anger. He couldn't just leave things the way they were --- even if his mind screamed at him that walking away would be the sensible thing to do.
Ken sighed heavily, squaring his shoulders and mentally preparing for the possibility of confrontation, and moved into the front room. He stopped just inside the doorway, several feet away from the older man. "Yohji?" he called softly. He waited for a few seconds, but, when the other man didn't respond, he repeated, a little louder, "Yohji."
The older man stiffened, almost imperceptibly, and replied, "Yeah?" His voice was tired and flat, and he didn't bother turning from his work.
Ken cleared his throat and asked, "What … what happened? What's going on?"
"I don't want to talk about it." Yohji stated, still in that same, flat, voice, edged with exhaustion, irritation, and, maybe, even a little fear.
"Maybe not, but … I think we need to," Ken said, inching a little further into the room.
Yohji still didn't turn to face him, but Ken saw the older man's shoulders droop slightly, as if he was resigning himself to the fact that he was never going to win this argument. Finally, the tall blonde turned around, and Ken was shocked to see that his eyes were red with unshed tears. He couldn't remember ever seeing Yohji this way. He desperately wanted to offer whatever emotional support he could to the older man, so he struggled to keep the shocked expression off of his face and out of his eyes. He knew he had failed when he saw the brief, humorless smirk that crossed Yohji's mouth.
"You don't have to look so surprised. We might be murderers, but we still have some emotions, right?"
Ken ducked his head in an effort to hide his embarrassment. "S … sorry," he stammered. "Did … did Hank do something? Was he … involved, somehow, with what happened today?"
Yohji startled Ken by suddenly sinking down into a sitting position, heedless of the water, glass, and mud still covering the floor, as if exhaustion and the events of the day had finally caught up to him, and Ken immediately began to move across the floor toward him. Yohji waved his hand, halting Ken's advance, and the ex-goalie stopped next to the counter. He leaned back against it, resting his weight on his elbows.
"Hank," Yohji hissed through clenched teeth, unable to keep the anger from his voice, "is one topic I'm not willing to discuss at this moment."
"But …" Ken started to protest, only to be cut off when another wave of Yohji's hand indicated that the blonde wasn't going to waver from his decision.
"There will be no discussion of Hank or his possible involvement in this," Yohji said, waving his hand through the air to indicate the general disarray surrounding them, "until Aya can be present. Knowing our red-haired friend, he probably has a pretty good idea of what really happened. Don't get me wrong. I have my own theories, and I don't think I'm wrong. I just want to wait and give Aya a chance to confirm it. Hank is … was … really his friend, after all."
Ken frowned at Yohji's use of the word "was". He stared at the older man for a few minutes before finally saying, "All … right. Fair enough. But, can you at least … tell me … what happened here?"
Yohji nodded. "I can try. I … I don't really know exactly what happened, but I think I've mostly pieced it together, from what I saw and from what Omi told me." He sighed and rolled his head from side to side, stretching tense, cramped neck muscles, and then continued, "I … was upstairs, sleeping, and that damn dog's barking woke me up. When I came down, I found Bubba … locked in the stairwell, trying to break through the door to get in here. At first … I thought Aya had accidentally locked him in there. You know, that he was just upset at being separated from Aya, but … Bubba, he … was just going … crazy … barking and snarling, tearing and clawing at the stairs and door. He was practically foaming at the mouth, he was so frenzied and mad. That damn dog hasn't ever been exactly "cuddly", but … I've never seen him like that. I mean, he was ready to kill. I opened the door to the stairwell, and went into the back room. It was like this … like there had been one hell of a fight. I got close enough to see part of the front room, before Bubba ran me over, and I saw Schuldich. He … he was … he was …" Yohji's voice trailed off, and he got a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was seeing the entire scene again in his mind. His voice was shaking when he continued, "He had Aya … by the throat … holding him off the floor. I don't know … how long they had been fighting, but Aya … was about at the end of his rope. He wasn't even really struggling anymore … like he had finally given up. Anyhow, Bubba jumped at them and sank his teeth into Schuldich, but he knocked them through the window. I managed to get there right after, while they were still on the sidewalk, and Schuldich was fighting with the dog. But, he managed to get away before I could get to Aya. He pushed Bubba into me, and, before I could get up, he … he grabbed Aya, and … and threw him into the street, I guess, to keep me from chasing him. Then, he ran away. Bubba went after him, and I went after Aya." He paused and drew his knees up to his chest, resting his elbows on them, and hid his face in his cupped palms. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled, and sounded as if it was on the verge of breaking. "Shit! Aya … I mean … shit. There was a car coming right for him, and … he couldn't do anything. I remember thinking … thinking … I wasn't going to get there … in time. I thought he was dead … that I was going to have to watch him die. But, I got to him in time and pulled him out."
"Shit," Ken whispered, almost under his breath. "Yohji … I … I'm sorry."
Yohji sighed, but he didn't remove his face from his hands. "Why? It's not your fault. After I got back from the hospital, I asked Omi, and he said that Aya had picked him up at school. He said Aya had already closed the shop for the day because he still wasn't feeling up to working alone. He told me everything was dark and quiet when they got here, and he headed right for the stairs, to go to sleep. He thought Aya was right behind him, but Aya told him to go ahead. He said Aya heard something in the shop and left to check it out."
"But," Ken said, slowly, very uncomfortable with the conclusions his mind seemed determined to draw, "that … that means …"
Yohji nodded, "Yeah. I think Schuldich was here, waiting for him inside the shop."
"But, if the front door was locked," Ken started.
"It gets worse," Yohji said, cutting Ken's statement off, "Omi said he found Bubba locked in Aya's room. He let the dog out, and it went tearing off down the stairs. But, Omi didn't know the door at the bottom was already closed. Aya must have closed it to keep the noise from waking us. I think he knew Schuldich was here, but he told Omi to go upstairs and then closed the door to keep us from getting involved."
"That's crazy! He has trouble handling Schuldich alone, even on his best days … given that bastard's telepathic abilities. And, … he's been trying to hide it, but we all know he really hasn't recovered from the pneumonia."
"Yeah, but, it's just like him," Yohji said softly. He was staring at the floor directly in front of him, but it was obvious that his eyes weren't really seeing anything at all. "He knows we're all at our limits. Fucking Kritiker and Persia haven't given us one damn break while he's been down. He knows we've all been running ourselves ragged trying to comply with their demands. He's quiet, but he has eyes. He notices everything, and he worries, even though he'd never admit it out loud. I think he felt guilty because of what Kritiker and Persia were putting all of us through; he felt like it was his fault. And, Omi was already sick. He wouldn't take a chance on one of us getting hurt. He decided to try and handle it on his own, even though he knew he would probably lose. Stupid, stubborn, little prick."
Yohji slammed his fist into the floor, and Ken jumped involuntarily at the loud splashing sound it made. When he met the older man's eyes once again, he saw that the hard, angry look had returned to them.
"The thing … that really burns me up," Yohji said, his voice hard, cold, and angry, "is that … we were all … I was right upstairs the whole time. I slept through the whole fucking thing. If Bubba hadn't woken me up …" He shuddered as he voiced the rest of his thought, "If that fucking dog hadn't woken me up, we … we would have just found Aya down here … dead … killed right under our noses … strangled to death right in our home … in our fucking home!"
He slammed his fist into the water covering the floor, once again causing Ken to jump. The ex-goalie hadn't thought things through far enough to realize they would have come downstairs to find the shop torn up and Aya dead, without any explanation, but, as he thought about it, he realized Yohji was right. At the sudden realization, he felt the anger, up-to-now-dormant, begin to well up inside of him. He hadn't ever been a member of the Aya Fujimiya fan club, like Yohji and Omi; he had always believed, and continued to believe, that Aya was an asshole, plain and simple, and he found the redhead too overbearing and uptight to develop any true fondness for him. Still, Aya was Weiss, and, as such, asshole or not, he was as good as family. The thought that someone could walk right into their home, their one haven in the world, and take away a member of his family started to burn and eat away at Ken, until he could well understand Yohji's urge to kill anyone who might have had even the slightest involvement in this debacle. Still, despite all the evidence to the contrary, he wanted to believe that Hank hadn't been involved. The older man's friendship had been good for Aya; it was largely thanks to Hank that the quiet redhead had finally started to act like something approaching human. Aya was tough, strong, and, at times, even seemed invincible, but, in terms of human emotions and feelings, he was as fragile and vulnerable as a newborn, and Ken was surprised to find he couldn't stand the thought that someone the redhead cared about would prey upon that vulnerability. Now, he realized exactly why Yohji was so venomously angry with Hank. Ken fought down his anger, though, for Aya's sake. Yohji wouldn't be able to think or act rationally in this situation, and, if Hank was the traitor Yohji believed him to be, Aya would need all the support he could get.
"But," Ken said, once he had managed to get his emotions under control, "that didn't happen. We should just be thankful for that, and go from there."
"Yeah," Yohji replied. He got slowly to his feet and brushed at his wet clothing. "I'm going upstairs to change my clothes and check on Aya. I'll be back to help with the cleaning, though."
************************************************************
Yohji stood in the doorway to his room and quietly watched the trio sleeping on his bed. At some point in time, Aya and Omi, who were sleeping back-to-back, had switched places. The younger blonde now slept on the side of the bed nearest the wall, his back toward the door, and Aya was on the near side, facing the doorway. Yohji smiled when he saw that he had been right about the dog. Bubba had crawled right into bed with Aya and Omi, and the wet dog was lying in between the two assassins, his head and large front paws draped over Aya's still body. Yohji shook his head and silently thanked his lucky stars that Omi had brought Aya's comforter into the room. Having wet dog in his bed was bad enough, but having the animal on his comforter would have been more than Yohji could bear.
Yohji sank into the chair that stood next to the bed. He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees. From his position, he was less than a foot away from the bed, and almost at eye-level with Aya. Yohji glanced over at the digital clock on his bedside table, which indicated it was almost two in the morning. He and Ken had given up cleaning about an hour ago, and the tall blonde had just emerged from a very satisfying, steaming-hot shower. They had worked on the mess downstairs for hours, but it still looked like they had days of labor ahead of them before they'd be able to put everything back as it was. The room was dark, only dimly illuminated by the light that came in from the hallway, and it took Yohji several minutes to realize that Aya was awake, quietly watching him.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward. He smiled, although he knew that Aya probably couldn't see it in the darkened room.
"Hnh," Aya replied. His voice was hoarse, and sounded distant, as if he couldn't quite figure out where he was. After pausing for a few moments, he coughed softly and said, "You've been spending a lot of time in that chair."
"You've been spending a lot of time flat on your back," Yohji countered. "Frankly, it's a habit I wish you'd get out of."
Aya laughed softly. "Yeah … that makes two of us." He struggled to move out from under Bubba's weight, groaning in pain at the effort.
"Wait a minute," Yohji said. He quickly moved forward to push the dog off of Aya. "Can't have you popping your stitches. You'd bleed all over my damn bed … and I love this bed. It's bad enough I'm never getting the wet dog smell out."
He gave Bubba one last shove, silently praying that the dog wouldn't wake up and chew his arm off, but the animal just groaned and rolled over onto his back, all four paws held high in the air. He snuggled deeper into the soft, down comforter with a quiet little snore and grunt of pleasure.
"Thanks," Aya said, as Yohji pulled him into a sitting position. He paused on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling over the side, and then, slowly, started to stand up.
"Hey, just a minute!" Yohji exclaimed softly as Aya lurched forward and almost fell. He jumped out of the chair and barely managed to keep the younger man upright. "Where the hell are you going?"
Aya sighed. "The … bathroom," he whispered, irritated at not being able to make it on his own.
"All right," Yohji replied. "But, I'm going with. I don't want you taking a header down the stairs or something."
Aya nodded. He didn't really want Yohji's help, but he was too weak and exhausted to argue the point. He leaned heavily against the taller man, and wordlessly allowed Yohji to half-way carry him the short distance down the hallway. At the bathroom door, though, he stopped and made a heroic attempt to glare at his tall blonde assistant.
"You're not coming in," Aya stated.
Yohji thought about it for a minute. He could have probably argued with Aya and won out, considering that the redhead was in pain and just coming off of the effects of the painkillers. But, when he really thought about it, he didn't want to go in, anyhow, so he wisely decided to let the subject drop. He had learned through painful experience that, when it came to Aya, one had to choose one's battles carefully.
"OK," Yohji said, nodding in agreement. "But, I'm waiting right out here. If I hear anything that sounds remotely like something falling, crashing, or breaking, I'm coming in."
Aya rolled his eyes at the ceiling, but he just said, "Fair enough," as he pushed his way into the bathroom and clicked on the light.
Yohji slid to a sitting position on the floor, prepared to wait until Aya was ready to make the short trek back to bed. He stared at the ceiling and forced his mind away from the events of the previous afternoon and his theories on how Schuldich had managed to get into the flower shop so easily. Thinking about it just made him angry, and it didn't do any good, anyhow. At this moment, there wasn't anything he could do but take care of Aya and try to make sure the incident didn't repeat itself.
After a while, Yohji glanced down at his watch, and was shocked to find that almost twenty minutes had elapsed. He put his ear to the bathroom door, but he couldn't hear anything. It seemed that the room beyond was eerily silent --- too silent --- and Yohji felt the now all-too-familiar surge of panic well up in his chest.
He tapped lightly on the door and called, "Aya? Aya, you OK in there?" He placed his ear against the door again to listen for a response. When none seemed forthcoming, he called out, "Aya, answer me! Are you all right?" He held his breath and listened for any sound from his friend. When he didn't hear anything, he knocked on the door again and called, "I'm coming in, OK?"
Just as he was turning the door knob, he heard Aya's slightly groggy voice, "It's OK. I'm all right… Sorry."
Within a couple of seconds, Yohji heard the sound of the toilet flushing, followed by running water, and then Aya opened the door to emerge back into the hall. He tripped over the edge of the carpet as he exited the bathroom, and Yohji barely managed to catch him in time to keep him from falling head-first into the opposite wall.
"Shit!" the blonde hissed. "You scared the piss outta me!"
"Sorry," Aya mumbled. "I … I kinda zoned out for a few minutes."
"It's OK," Yohji replied. He gently pushed the redhead back into a fully standing position, wincing as his hand brushed across Aya's back, causing the younger man to stifle a cry of pain. "What were you doing awake, anyhow? I figured you'd be so pumped full of painkillers that you'd sleep for a couple of days."
Aya shook his head slowly. "I … I only let them give me a local and one pain shot. It's … starting to wear off, and I couldn't sleep. This hurts like hell."
"We can fix that," Yohji started to comment, but Aya cut him off with a decisive head shake.
"No. I don't like the way it feels … to be … drugged up. Something … could happen, and I …"
"Don't be stupid," Yohji hissed. He gently shook the younger man to add emphasis to his words. "You have to sleep in order to heal. You keep on like this, and you're never going to recover. I know you're still sick from the last mission, and, now, this." He rolled his eyes when he saw the surprised look Aya gave him. "Oh, come on. You don't honestly think you were fooling any of us, do you? We all know you're still sick. You've got to stop pushing yourself. Nothing's going to happen, OK? I'm right here, and I'll stay with you the whole time. I promise."
When Aya continued to stubbornly shake his head, Yohji sighed in frustration. "Well, it doesn't matter, anyhow," he muttered, pulling Aya back into the bathroom.
He deposited the unsteady redhead on the closed toilet, taking advantage of the only handy seat in the small room, and turned to fumble briefly through the medicine cabinet. He quickly located the pain medication the ER doctor had prescribed, and silently thanked the odd little man for his foresight in prescribing an injectible dosage. Obviously, the doctor had had a lot of trouble getting Aya to cooperate, which had led him to correctly conclude they would have to force the medication on the redhead. Yohji quickly filled a syringe with the recommended dose, and turned back toward his uncooperative patient.
Aya started to protest as the tall blonde pulled up his sleeve and administered the injection, but Yohji just shook his head and said, "It's for your own good. Besides, you're not in any condition to fight me on this one. When you're better, I'll gladly let you beat the shit out of me." He laughed softly and commented, "Well, I'll gladly let you try."
It only took a few seconds for the drug to start working. Yohji was relieved to see the tight expression on Aya's face and the pain lines around his mouth and eyes smooth out as the younger man slipped into sleep. When Aya slumped forward, Yohji gathered him in his arms and carried him back to his bedroom.
As he gently settled Aya back in his bed, Yohji ruffled the redhead's bangs slightly and muttered, "Yep. If I'm gonna have to keep hauling your ass around like this, you're definitely going on that diet!"
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence
Summary: Aya slowly begins to rediscover his humanity, only to face betrayal at the hands of someone he trusted. Decisions he's made with regard to Kritiker come back to haunt him, as the organization decides to retire him, leaving Aya cornered, badly injured, and, along with Yohji, on the run with nowhere to turn for help except the very man who betrayed him. Events start to tumble at breakneck speed toward a conclusion, following the twisted course Fate seems to have decreed. Can Aya stay alive long enough to untangle the sticky web in which he, Yohji, and his friend-turned-betrayer find themselves ensnared?
Legal Stuff: As always, this story is intended to express one fan's genuine appreciation of Weiss Kreuz and its characters. It is just for fun and not for profit. If you have any rights in the anime described here and find the posting of this fanfiction offensive or harmful, please contact me, and I will be happy to remove it.
Author's Note: Story #2 in the "Nowhere Man" Trilogy. Story #1: Nowhere Man. Story #3: Redemption
Chapter 6
The rain had stopped for a while, but it had just started up again, a slow, steady drizzle that seemed to hang in the streetlights' glow like a soft, diaphanous curtain. Ken stood in the flower shop's back doorway and watched as Hank slowly walked down the alley. The normally cheerful, jovial man walked away from him looking like a much older person --- bent over, hunched against the slightly chilly breeze, and moving with a stumbling, slow gait as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Ken watched until Hank's figure blurred in the darkness between the streetlights, and, finally, seemed to blend in and melt away with the drizzling rain. Once he had disappeared completely, the ex-goalie retreated back into the warmth of the flower shop, lost in thought.
There was definitely something going on between Yohji and Hank, and Ken had a nagging suspicion that it had something to do with Schuldich's unexpected visit. All he wanted to do was pretend everything was fine, go back into the front room, and help Yohji clean up the mess, but the edgy, jittery feeling he'd gotten that afternoon, when he'd stumbled downstairs to find the shop and Aya wrecked, had grown steadily throughout the day. Now, it was screaming through his mind like a freight train, assaulting his senses, and he felt ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest provocation. No matter how much he wanted to ignore the uneasy feeling slowly taking over his mind, years of experience as an assassin had taught Ken not to ignore his instincts. They were almost always right.
He stood in the doorway leading into the front of the store and watched Yohji. The older man was silently going about the business of cleaning up, mopping up the water covering the floor, scooting the broken pottery into piles for easier pick up, and, occasionally, stooping to pick up a particularly large shard, which he would toss, unceremoniously, into the trash can in the middle of the room. Ken couldn't see his face, as his back was to the door, but the ex-goalie could tell that his older teammate was still very upset. To most people, the tall blonde would appear perfectly calm, completely recovered from his earlier outburst and scuffle with Hank, but Ken wasn't most people. He had lived, worked, and killed with Yohji for longer than he cared to remember --- long enough that he could read the older man's body language like an open book. Everything about the blonde --- the stiffness in his shoulders and back, hands clenching the mop handle so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, the way he angrily shoved water and broken pottery around the floor with quick, jerking motions --- told Ken that Yohji was anything but calm. Yohji was protective of all of them, but, especially so with Aya. Where the redhead was concerned, the tall blonde had a mother bear vicious streak, and Ken had no doubt that, if Hank had been involved in Schuldich's attack in any way, the chain-smoking idiot would kill him the next time they met. He figured he had watched Yohji kill hundreds of people in a cold, emotionless, methodical manner, but he hadn't ever seen the tall blonde driven to the point of uncontrolled, homicidal rage --- until today. Ken decided that he had to be careful in approaching Yohji right now. The older man was still upset about Aya and full of unspent rage, a combination that could make him deadly dangerous. Ken didn't have any desire to fight with the blonde, and he wanted to protect himself from injury. But, more than that, he wanted to protect Yohji from doing something he would regret later. After several minutes, Ken decided that his only choice was to gamble on the chance that their friendship, a bond forged in blood, would protect him from Yohji's anger. He couldn't just leave things the way they were --- even if his mind screamed at him that walking away would be the sensible thing to do.
Ken sighed heavily, squaring his shoulders and mentally preparing for the possibility of confrontation, and moved into the front room. He stopped just inside the doorway, several feet away from the older man. "Yohji?" he called softly. He waited for a few seconds, but, when the other man didn't respond, he repeated, a little louder, "Yohji."
The older man stiffened, almost imperceptibly, and replied, "Yeah?" His voice was tired and flat, and he didn't bother turning from his work.
Ken cleared his throat and asked, "What … what happened? What's going on?"
"I don't want to talk about it." Yohji stated, still in that same, flat, voice, edged with exhaustion, irritation, and, maybe, even a little fear.
"Maybe not, but … I think we need to," Ken said, inching a little further into the room.
Yohji still didn't turn to face him, but Ken saw the older man's shoulders droop slightly, as if he was resigning himself to the fact that he was never going to win this argument. Finally, the tall blonde turned around, and Ken was shocked to see that his eyes were red with unshed tears. He couldn't remember ever seeing Yohji this way. He desperately wanted to offer whatever emotional support he could to the older man, so he struggled to keep the shocked expression off of his face and out of his eyes. He knew he had failed when he saw the brief, humorless smirk that crossed Yohji's mouth.
"You don't have to look so surprised. We might be murderers, but we still have some emotions, right?"
Ken ducked his head in an effort to hide his embarrassment. "S … sorry," he stammered. "Did … did Hank do something? Was he … involved, somehow, with what happened today?"
Yohji startled Ken by suddenly sinking down into a sitting position, heedless of the water, glass, and mud still covering the floor, as if exhaustion and the events of the day had finally caught up to him, and Ken immediately began to move across the floor toward him. Yohji waved his hand, halting Ken's advance, and the ex-goalie stopped next to the counter. He leaned back against it, resting his weight on his elbows.
"Hank," Yohji hissed through clenched teeth, unable to keep the anger from his voice, "is one topic I'm not willing to discuss at this moment."
"But …" Ken started to protest, only to be cut off when another wave of Yohji's hand indicated that the blonde wasn't going to waver from his decision.
"There will be no discussion of Hank or his possible involvement in this," Yohji said, waving his hand through the air to indicate the general disarray surrounding them, "until Aya can be present. Knowing our red-haired friend, he probably has a pretty good idea of what really happened. Don't get me wrong. I have my own theories, and I don't think I'm wrong. I just want to wait and give Aya a chance to confirm it. Hank is … was … really his friend, after all."
Ken frowned at Yohji's use of the word "was". He stared at the older man for a few minutes before finally saying, "All … right. Fair enough. But, can you at least … tell me … what happened here?"
Yohji nodded. "I can try. I … I don't really know exactly what happened, but I think I've mostly pieced it together, from what I saw and from what Omi told me." He sighed and rolled his head from side to side, stretching tense, cramped neck muscles, and then continued, "I … was upstairs, sleeping, and that damn dog's barking woke me up. When I came down, I found Bubba … locked in the stairwell, trying to break through the door to get in here. At first … I thought Aya had accidentally locked him in there. You know, that he was just upset at being separated from Aya, but … Bubba, he … was just going … crazy … barking and snarling, tearing and clawing at the stairs and door. He was practically foaming at the mouth, he was so frenzied and mad. That damn dog hasn't ever been exactly "cuddly", but … I've never seen him like that. I mean, he was ready to kill. I opened the door to the stairwell, and went into the back room. It was like this … like there had been one hell of a fight. I got close enough to see part of the front room, before Bubba ran me over, and I saw Schuldich. He … he was … he was …" Yohji's voice trailed off, and he got a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was seeing the entire scene again in his mind. His voice was shaking when he continued, "He had Aya … by the throat … holding him off the floor. I don't know … how long they had been fighting, but Aya … was about at the end of his rope. He wasn't even really struggling anymore … like he had finally given up. Anyhow, Bubba jumped at them and sank his teeth into Schuldich, but he knocked them through the window. I managed to get there right after, while they were still on the sidewalk, and Schuldich was fighting with the dog. But, he managed to get away before I could get to Aya. He pushed Bubba into me, and, before I could get up, he … he grabbed Aya, and … and threw him into the street, I guess, to keep me from chasing him. Then, he ran away. Bubba went after him, and I went after Aya." He paused and drew his knees up to his chest, resting his elbows on them, and hid his face in his cupped palms. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled, and sounded as if it was on the verge of breaking. "Shit! Aya … I mean … shit. There was a car coming right for him, and … he couldn't do anything. I remember thinking … thinking … I wasn't going to get there … in time. I thought he was dead … that I was going to have to watch him die. But, I got to him in time and pulled him out."
"Shit," Ken whispered, almost under his breath. "Yohji … I … I'm sorry."
Yohji sighed, but he didn't remove his face from his hands. "Why? It's not your fault. After I got back from the hospital, I asked Omi, and he said that Aya had picked him up at school. He said Aya had already closed the shop for the day because he still wasn't feeling up to working alone. He told me everything was dark and quiet when they got here, and he headed right for the stairs, to go to sleep. He thought Aya was right behind him, but Aya told him to go ahead. He said Aya heard something in the shop and left to check it out."
"But," Ken said, slowly, very uncomfortable with the conclusions his mind seemed determined to draw, "that … that means …"
Yohji nodded, "Yeah. I think Schuldich was here, waiting for him inside the shop."
"But, if the front door was locked," Ken started.
"It gets worse," Yohji said, cutting Ken's statement off, "Omi said he found Bubba locked in Aya's room. He let the dog out, and it went tearing off down the stairs. But, Omi didn't know the door at the bottom was already closed. Aya must have closed it to keep the noise from waking us. I think he knew Schuldich was here, but he told Omi to go upstairs and then closed the door to keep us from getting involved."
"That's crazy! He has trouble handling Schuldich alone, even on his best days … given that bastard's telepathic abilities. And, … he's been trying to hide it, but we all know he really hasn't recovered from the pneumonia."
"Yeah, but, it's just like him," Yohji said softly. He was staring at the floor directly in front of him, but it was obvious that his eyes weren't really seeing anything at all. "He knows we're all at our limits. Fucking Kritiker and Persia haven't given us one damn break while he's been down. He knows we've all been running ourselves ragged trying to comply with their demands. He's quiet, but he has eyes. He notices everything, and he worries, even though he'd never admit it out loud. I think he felt guilty because of what Kritiker and Persia were putting all of us through; he felt like it was his fault. And, Omi was already sick. He wouldn't take a chance on one of us getting hurt. He decided to try and handle it on his own, even though he knew he would probably lose. Stupid, stubborn, little prick."
Yohji slammed his fist into the floor, and Ken jumped involuntarily at the loud splashing sound it made. When he met the older man's eyes once again, he saw that the hard, angry look had returned to them.
"The thing … that really burns me up," Yohji said, his voice hard, cold, and angry, "is that … we were all … I was right upstairs the whole time. I slept through the whole fucking thing. If Bubba hadn't woken me up …" He shuddered as he voiced the rest of his thought, "If that fucking dog hadn't woken me up, we … we would have just found Aya down here … dead … killed right under our noses … strangled to death right in our home … in our fucking home!"
He slammed his fist into the water covering the floor, once again causing Ken to jump. The ex-goalie hadn't thought things through far enough to realize they would have come downstairs to find the shop torn up and Aya dead, without any explanation, but, as he thought about it, he realized Yohji was right. At the sudden realization, he felt the anger, up-to-now-dormant, begin to well up inside of him. He hadn't ever been a member of the Aya Fujimiya fan club, like Yohji and Omi; he had always believed, and continued to believe, that Aya was an asshole, plain and simple, and he found the redhead too overbearing and uptight to develop any true fondness for him. Still, Aya was Weiss, and, as such, asshole or not, he was as good as family. The thought that someone could walk right into their home, their one haven in the world, and take away a member of his family started to burn and eat away at Ken, until he could well understand Yohji's urge to kill anyone who might have had even the slightest involvement in this debacle. Still, despite all the evidence to the contrary, he wanted to believe that Hank hadn't been involved. The older man's friendship had been good for Aya; it was largely thanks to Hank that the quiet redhead had finally started to act like something approaching human. Aya was tough, strong, and, at times, even seemed invincible, but, in terms of human emotions and feelings, he was as fragile and vulnerable as a newborn, and Ken was surprised to find he couldn't stand the thought that someone the redhead cared about would prey upon that vulnerability. Now, he realized exactly why Yohji was so venomously angry with Hank. Ken fought down his anger, though, for Aya's sake. Yohji wouldn't be able to think or act rationally in this situation, and, if Hank was the traitor Yohji believed him to be, Aya would need all the support he could get.
"But," Ken said, once he had managed to get his emotions under control, "that didn't happen. We should just be thankful for that, and go from there."
"Yeah," Yohji replied. He got slowly to his feet and brushed at his wet clothing. "I'm going upstairs to change my clothes and check on Aya. I'll be back to help with the cleaning, though."
************************************************************
Yohji stood in the doorway to his room and quietly watched the trio sleeping on his bed. At some point in time, Aya and Omi, who were sleeping back-to-back, had switched places. The younger blonde now slept on the side of the bed nearest the wall, his back toward the door, and Aya was on the near side, facing the doorway. Yohji smiled when he saw that he had been right about the dog. Bubba had crawled right into bed with Aya and Omi, and the wet dog was lying in between the two assassins, his head and large front paws draped over Aya's still body. Yohji shook his head and silently thanked his lucky stars that Omi had brought Aya's comforter into the room. Having wet dog in his bed was bad enough, but having the animal on his comforter would have been more than Yohji could bear.
Yohji sank into the chair that stood next to the bed. He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees. From his position, he was less than a foot away from the bed, and almost at eye-level with Aya. Yohji glanced over at the digital clock on his bedside table, which indicated it was almost two in the morning. He and Ken had given up cleaning about an hour ago, and the tall blonde had just emerged from a very satisfying, steaming-hot shower. They had worked on the mess downstairs for hours, but it still looked like they had days of labor ahead of them before they'd be able to put everything back as it was. The room was dark, only dimly illuminated by the light that came in from the hallway, and it took Yohji several minutes to realize that Aya was awake, quietly watching him.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward. He smiled, although he knew that Aya probably couldn't see it in the darkened room.
"Hnh," Aya replied. His voice was hoarse, and sounded distant, as if he couldn't quite figure out where he was. After pausing for a few moments, he coughed softly and said, "You've been spending a lot of time in that chair."
"You've been spending a lot of time flat on your back," Yohji countered. "Frankly, it's a habit I wish you'd get out of."
Aya laughed softly. "Yeah … that makes two of us." He struggled to move out from under Bubba's weight, groaning in pain at the effort.
"Wait a minute," Yohji said. He quickly moved forward to push the dog off of Aya. "Can't have you popping your stitches. You'd bleed all over my damn bed … and I love this bed. It's bad enough I'm never getting the wet dog smell out."
He gave Bubba one last shove, silently praying that the dog wouldn't wake up and chew his arm off, but the animal just groaned and rolled over onto his back, all four paws held high in the air. He snuggled deeper into the soft, down comforter with a quiet little snore and grunt of pleasure.
"Thanks," Aya said, as Yohji pulled him into a sitting position. He paused on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling over the side, and then, slowly, started to stand up.
"Hey, just a minute!" Yohji exclaimed softly as Aya lurched forward and almost fell. He jumped out of the chair and barely managed to keep the younger man upright. "Where the hell are you going?"
Aya sighed. "The … bathroom," he whispered, irritated at not being able to make it on his own.
"All right," Yohji replied. "But, I'm going with. I don't want you taking a header down the stairs or something."
Aya nodded. He didn't really want Yohji's help, but he was too weak and exhausted to argue the point. He leaned heavily against the taller man, and wordlessly allowed Yohji to half-way carry him the short distance down the hallway. At the bathroom door, though, he stopped and made a heroic attempt to glare at his tall blonde assistant.
"You're not coming in," Aya stated.
Yohji thought about it for a minute. He could have probably argued with Aya and won out, considering that the redhead was in pain and just coming off of the effects of the painkillers. But, when he really thought about it, he didn't want to go in, anyhow, so he wisely decided to let the subject drop. He had learned through painful experience that, when it came to Aya, one had to choose one's battles carefully.
"OK," Yohji said, nodding in agreement. "But, I'm waiting right out here. If I hear anything that sounds remotely like something falling, crashing, or breaking, I'm coming in."
Aya rolled his eyes at the ceiling, but he just said, "Fair enough," as he pushed his way into the bathroom and clicked on the light.
Yohji slid to a sitting position on the floor, prepared to wait until Aya was ready to make the short trek back to bed. He stared at the ceiling and forced his mind away from the events of the previous afternoon and his theories on how Schuldich had managed to get into the flower shop so easily. Thinking about it just made him angry, and it didn't do any good, anyhow. At this moment, there wasn't anything he could do but take care of Aya and try to make sure the incident didn't repeat itself.
After a while, Yohji glanced down at his watch, and was shocked to find that almost twenty minutes had elapsed. He put his ear to the bathroom door, but he couldn't hear anything. It seemed that the room beyond was eerily silent --- too silent --- and Yohji felt the now all-too-familiar surge of panic well up in his chest.
He tapped lightly on the door and called, "Aya? Aya, you OK in there?" He placed his ear against the door again to listen for a response. When none seemed forthcoming, he called out, "Aya, answer me! Are you all right?" He held his breath and listened for any sound from his friend. When he didn't hear anything, he knocked on the door again and called, "I'm coming in, OK?"
Just as he was turning the door knob, he heard Aya's slightly groggy voice, "It's OK. I'm all right… Sorry."
Within a couple of seconds, Yohji heard the sound of the toilet flushing, followed by running water, and then Aya opened the door to emerge back into the hall. He tripped over the edge of the carpet as he exited the bathroom, and Yohji barely managed to catch him in time to keep him from falling head-first into the opposite wall.
"Shit!" the blonde hissed. "You scared the piss outta me!"
"Sorry," Aya mumbled. "I … I kinda zoned out for a few minutes."
"It's OK," Yohji replied. He gently pushed the redhead back into a fully standing position, wincing as his hand brushed across Aya's back, causing the younger man to stifle a cry of pain. "What were you doing awake, anyhow? I figured you'd be so pumped full of painkillers that you'd sleep for a couple of days."
Aya shook his head slowly. "I … I only let them give me a local and one pain shot. It's … starting to wear off, and I couldn't sleep. This hurts like hell."
"We can fix that," Yohji started to comment, but Aya cut him off with a decisive head shake.
"No. I don't like the way it feels … to be … drugged up. Something … could happen, and I …"
"Don't be stupid," Yohji hissed. He gently shook the younger man to add emphasis to his words. "You have to sleep in order to heal. You keep on like this, and you're never going to recover. I know you're still sick from the last mission, and, now, this." He rolled his eyes when he saw the surprised look Aya gave him. "Oh, come on. You don't honestly think you were fooling any of us, do you? We all know you're still sick. You've got to stop pushing yourself. Nothing's going to happen, OK? I'm right here, and I'll stay with you the whole time. I promise."
When Aya continued to stubbornly shake his head, Yohji sighed in frustration. "Well, it doesn't matter, anyhow," he muttered, pulling Aya back into the bathroom.
He deposited the unsteady redhead on the closed toilet, taking advantage of the only handy seat in the small room, and turned to fumble briefly through the medicine cabinet. He quickly located the pain medication the ER doctor had prescribed, and silently thanked the odd little man for his foresight in prescribing an injectible dosage. Obviously, the doctor had had a lot of trouble getting Aya to cooperate, which had led him to correctly conclude they would have to force the medication on the redhead. Yohji quickly filled a syringe with the recommended dose, and turned back toward his uncooperative patient.
Aya started to protest as the tall blonde pulled up his sleeve and administered the injection, but Yohji just shook his head and said, "It's for your own good. Besides, you're not in any condition to fight me on this one. When you're better, I'll gladly let you beat the shit out of me." He laughed softly and commented, "Well, I'll gladly let you try."
It only took a few seconds for the drug to start working. Yohji was relieved to see the tight expression on Aya's face and the pain lines around his mouth and eyes smooth out as the younger man slipped into sleep. When Aya slumped forward, Yohji gathered him in his arms and carried him back to his bedroom.
As he gently settled Aya back in his bed, Yohji ruffled the redhead's bangs slightly and muttered, "Yep. If I'm gonna have to keep hauling your ass around like this, you're definitely going on that diet!"