Fanfic Archive: Redemption, 14
May. 28th, 2009 04:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texchan(Written: 2004)
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence. Shounen-ai (implied)
Summary: Yohji and a critically injured Aya find themselves drummed out of Weiss and on the run from Kritiker. Against this backdrop, they must locate and retrieve something very precious to the man who betrayed Aya ... a man Aya still calls his friend, despite all that has passed between them. When their options run out, the boys have no choice but to undertake a foolhardy mission that will end up putting Aya at Schuldich's mercy. Will our kittens be able to extract themselves from this mess and return to Weiss? Or will Schuldich get his revenge, after all?
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 #3 in the "Nowhere Man" trilogy. Story #1: Nowhere Man. Story #2: Betrayal
Redemption
Chapter 14
Yohji wasn't more than five minutes away from the coffee shop, after his meeting with Crawford, when his cell rang. He had a pretty good idea who it was, considering that no one except for Omi and Ken had his number. Well, there was that waitress, too, but he didn't expect it to be her. Yohji frowned as he clicked on the phone. His fingers were slightly numb from the cold, and it took a few missed, fumbling tries before he was able to hit the correct button.
"What the hell are you doing calling me like this?" he snapped into the cell, offering no other greeting.
The person on the other end paused for a moment, and, then, he heard Omi's hesitant voice, "Yohji? That you?"
Yohji sighed. "Yeah. Who the hell else would it be? What do you want? You shouldn't be calling me. What about those Kritiker agents watching you guys?"
"We're not calling from the shop," Omi stated. There was a slight pause, before he asked, hesitantly, "Did … the meeting? Did it…?"
Yohji heard a brief struggle, followed by Omi's squeak of surprise and irritation. After a couple of seconds of additional fumbling, Ken's voice boomed out, "What happened at the meeting?"
"Nothing," Yohji replied, shortly."That's bullshit, and you know it," Ken stated, irritation, anger, and frustration sneaking into his voice. He sighed and paused, as if he was trying to gain control over his emotions, before continuing, "You know we're not gonna accept that for an answer."
"I don't want you guys involved any more. Before, it was inevitable, but, not now. It's better if you're not part of this."
There was a miniscule pause, about the length of a heartbeat, before Ken stated, "Tough shit. You know we're already involved."
Yohji sighed in defeat, "Fine. But, I don't want to have this conversation on the phone. I'm heading back to that coffee shop… you know the one …. where I met Crawford. I'll meet you there in fifteen. I'll be in the back booth, the one closest to the rear door. Make sure you're not followed."
He didn't wait for Ken's response. Instead, he severed their connection and, with a sigh of frustration, flipped up the collar of his coat to block out the wind as he turned to retrace his steps to the coffee house he'd just left.
************************************************************
As expected, Yohji arrived back at the restaurant before Omi and Ken. As he entered the now-all-too-familiar shop, shrugging out of his coat as he walked, he paused briefly at the front counter. Seeing his familiar face, Lola immediately approached him, a wide, inviting smile crossing her mouth.
"You're becoming quite the regular here," she commented as she rested her crossed arms on the counter and leaned forward, until her face was inches away from Yohji's.
He smiled and leaned forward also, so that their noses were virtually touching. He could smell her perfume, and feel her breath against his cheek.
"Must be the scenery, darlin'," he commented, adding his best, crooked, little-boy grin, for good measure.
"I'm off in ten," she whispered.
Yohji sighed, and, leaning forward ever so slightly, brushed the side of her neck with a gentle kiss and a soft tug of his teeth, which earned him a giggle, as he said, "Sorry. I will be back for you, but I've got other things working today."
He leaned back, and seeing the pout on her perfect, ruby-red lips, smiled and said, "Now, don't be that way, Baby." He grinned at her until his charm finally won out over her anger, and she grinned back. "I'm meeting some friends … over there," he said, pointing to the dark booth at the back of the shop, "Could we get a pot of coffee, Columbian blend, and three cups?"
She nodded. "If you promise not to forget me, it can even be on the house," she said, softly.
Yohji pulled her close to him, over the counter, and whispered in her ear, allowing his lips to softly brush against her earlobe and the silver moon earring dangling there, "Sugar, you don't have to bribe anyone. You know I'll be back." He released her with a smile, and walked slowly toward the back of the restaurant.
'Shit, I hate this fucking, cat-themed coffee shop,' he thought, briefly, as he slid into the booth, tossing his coat to one side.
He stared around the restaurant, and frowned at the cats that were stenciled on every free inch of wall space, the cutesy, kitty-themed names on the menus, the cat-themed coffee mugs, plates, t-shirts, and other products offered for sale in the shop.
'Aya was right,' he thought morosely, as he propped one elbow on the table and rested his chin in his open, cupped palm, 'It takes one sick mind to come up with something like this.'
Yohji dropped into dark, foreboding thoughts as images of his missing friend passed through his mind. The sound of a coffee pot and three cups clinking onto the table roused him from his reverie enough that he glanced up and smiled briefly at Lola, nodding his thanks as she filled his cup with a mysterious, little half-smile. As soon as she left, Yohji retreated back into his thoughts of Aya. The redhead had been gone for five days now. Five days. It might as well have been five years, or an eternity. He didn't like it, not one bit. He didn't like not having Aya here, and the thought of the redhead in Schuldich's hands made Yohji's insides twist with fear and rage. Who knew what kind of crap that crazy, German bastard was pulling with Aya's mind? Even Crawford had said, point-blank, that Schuldich had gone crazy since the death of his lover at Aya's hands. There was no way of knowing what the red-haired Schwarz operative might do, in the name of revenge. Yohji was terrified of not getting to Aya fast enough --- before Schuldich had a chance to do any real damage. Out of all of them, Aya was, in most ways, the toughest, since he was able to cut himself loose from his emotions and operate independently of what his heart might tell him to do. But, ironically, Yohji sensed this very strength also worked to make Aya the most vulnerable member of the group. It was probably that innate vulnerability that had drawn him to the redhead's friendship in the first place, and that had led him to become so extremely protective of Aya. Aya was so tightly-wound, and everything about the redhead was such a delicate balance: he struggled to let go of all emotions, yet he still felt the pain of his sister's injury and the guilt of their chosen profession with a profoundness that was lost on the rest of them; he was always quiet, yet he really needed to talk, to let go of what he felt inside; he despised his own existence, yet he'd fight tooth and nail for any of the members on his team, even though he never expected or even wanted them to fight for him; he pushed everyone around him away, as if he didn't want or deserve friendship, but Yohji hadn't ever met anyone who needed the love and support of others as much as Aya did. The tall blonde knew, without a doubt, that Aya's sanity was a delicate balance they all struggled to maintain, perhaps for purely selfish reasons. After all, Aya was the one who held them together, caused them to work as a team, and, ironically enough, made them appreciate and care about each other. At any rate, if Aya was pushed too far, one way or the other, Yohji knew he'd go over the edge, and they wouldn't be able to get him back, ever. Although Aya could probably resist Schuldich's machinations for longer than the rest of them, if the redhead broke, Yohji feared it would do permanent damage, and, maybe, even completely destroy the Aya they knew and cared about. Crawford had said Schuldich's powers were going crazy, too --- zoning in and out, super strong one minute and then, gone the next, just like his emotions over the death of his lover. If that was the case, Yohji knew it was just a matter of time before Aya broke under the strain. And, the tall blonde couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him ever since Crawford had shared his vision of Aya's death with him. Even though Crawford had said it was only one possible future, that it could be changed, the man also indicated he hadn't seen any other possibilities --- only this one, ending in Aya's death. Yohji started to take a sip of coffee, but thought better of it, as his stomach to flip-flopped queasily at the thought of Aya, dead in that cold warehouse where Schuldich was keeping him. He wondered, not for the first time, if the redhead was already dead, but he forced his mind to shake off that thought. Schuldich had been interested in revenge; it was a good bet he wouldn't have killed Aya off so quickly.
'Shit,' Yohji thought, as he looked up in response to the jangling of the shop's door bells. He waved to Omi and Ken, and as they crossed the floor to join him, he thought, 'I just want him back. I don't care. I just want Aya back … now.'
*************************************************************
Omi frowned at the look on Yohji's face as he slid into the booth, opposite from the older man, Ken right behind him. The tall blonde's face was etched with worry, fear, and gloom, and he was haggard, drawn, and pale. Either Crawford hadn't told him anything, or the American had had nothing to share but bad news. Yohji had waved them over, but, now that they were sliding into the booth opposite him, it was almost as if he had forgotten they were even there. He stared at the table with a vacant, lost look that was so out of place for him it actually made Omi's heart ache for the pain Yohji must be feeling. He and Ken missed Aya, and they were worried about the redhead, too, but it was different for Yohji. Aya hadn't ever seen fit to allow either of the two younger Weiss members into his private world, and, even though Omi knew the redhead cared about them, too, Aya had never truly accepted their friendship or opened up to them --- not like he had with Yohji.
"So?" Ken asked, breaking into Omi's thoughts.
"So what?" Yohji answered.
"Come on," Ken hissed, frustration and anger evident in his voice, "Don't play that fucking game. Not with us. What the hell happened at the meeting with Crawford?"
"Ken," Omi warned, motioning with his hand for the older brunette to shush.
He had seen the way Yohji's eyes had narrowed, almost imperceptibly, and the way they had started to glitter with anger at Ken's challenge. He knew both Yohji and Ken were angry with Schuldich and distraught over Aya's disappearance, but he also knew his two older teammates well enough to know they would be more than happy to take their anger and frustration out on each other. He'd seen it happen on several occasions, and he'd seen Aya put a stop to it often enough to know the redhead thought it a huge waste of time and energy to fight amongst themselves. Yohji and Ken both knew it was a huge waste of energy, too. At the moment, however, they just didn't care. For his part, Omi would have been happy to just let them act like idiots and fight with each other, but it would waste time, and, in the end, it wouldn't help Aya at all.
After a moment, the younger blonde sighed and continued, "Look, we're all worried about Aya, and we're all mad as hell at Schuldich for taking him like that, not to mention at Kritiker, for going after him the way they did. But, fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to accomplish anything. Besides, you know Aya wouldn't stand for it, if he was here."
He glared at Yohji and Ken, switching his gaze from one to the other, until the two older men shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
After a few moments, Yohji sighed. He removed his sunglasses and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it loose from the elastic securing it at the back of his neck, as he said, "You're right, Omi." After another sigh, he muttered, "I just wish like hell Aya was here to stop us."
"Me, too," Ken added. He leaned forward to grasp Yohji's wrist in his tanned hand, bringing the tall blonde's eyes to his, "Sorry, Yohji. I'm just worried, that's all. Me and Omi … we feel completely out of the loop on this one, and, I guess it's just made me a lot more frustrated, that's all. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"It's all right," Yohji replied. "I'm sorry for keeping you guys out of this, but Aya … he really didn't want you involved. Fair or not, I think he wanted to protect you both from Kritiker. He didn't want you to share his fate. He didn't want me to, either, but I didn't give him any other choice."
Omi smiled as he reached for the two extra coffee cups on the table, pouring a serving, first, for Ken, and then, for himself. "You're probably the only person in the world who could get away with something like that with Aya."
Yohji laughed and took a small sip of his coffee, as he replied, "Yeah. I … I guess so."
Ken took a noisy slurp of hot liquid, frowning as it burned its way down his throat. After hastily shrugging out of his coat, allowing it to puddle in a heap behind his back, he asked, again, "So? What happened at the meeting?"
Yohji paused, still debating over whether or not he should tell his companions everything he had learned. After a few tense, silent moments, he leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on the table, and said, in a low, quiet voice, "Crawford knows where he is. He gave me the address. It's an abandoned building in the warehouse district, near the docks."
"So, was Schwarz behind this?" Omi asked, also pitching his voice at a quiet, conspiratorial level.
Yohji shook his head, "No. Crawford insisted he didn't have anything to do with it, and neither did Schwarz. He said Schuldich's gone crazy. He wants revenge on Aya because Aya killed his lover several months ago. According to Crawford, Schu's become obsessed with Aya, with getting revenge on him, destroying him … to the point where his powers are even going crazy --- zoning in and out. Crawford said Schu's mental powers can be incredibly strong one minute, and then, the next, gone completely, and it looks like he can't control them any more."
"That's the same thing Aya said, after Schuldich attacked him," Ken commented, taking another noisy slurp, which earned him a sharp, disapproving glance from Omi. The ex-goalie smiled at the young blonde over the rim of his cup, and shrugged, at which point, Omi sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes at the ceiling, as if to indicate that Ken was completely and totally hopeless.
"Yeah," Yohji replied. He leaned back in his seat and toyed with his coffee cup, twisting it around on its saucer, but he kept his voice low. It was almost lunch time, and the coffee shop was becoming crowded. He didn't want to take a chance on anyone overhearing their conversation.
"Why did Crawford want to help get Aya back?" Omi wondered, absently tilting his coffee cup back and forth, until some of the hot liquid splashed over its rim and onto the saucer beneath.
Yohji shrugged, "Who knows why the hell Crawford does anything? He said he didn't care if we got Aya back, but he wants to retrieve Schuldich. With Schu acting the way he has been, Crawford said no one in Schwarz can get close enough to him to catch him and bring him back into the fold."
"And you agreed to hand Schu over to them?" Ken asked, his eyes widening and his tone incredulous.
Yohji shook his head. He signaled toward the front counter, and one of the waitresses came over, order pad in hand. Sadly, his Lola's shift was finished. She had left the restaurant ten or fifteen minutes ago. Yohji had watched her walk through the door with a longing urge and no small amount of regret.
"You want something, hon?" the waitress broke into Yohji's thoughts, drawing his attention toward her.
He looked up into twinkling blue-gray eyes and a pleasant, broad face belonging to an older woman. She had silvery-gray hair, which she piled up on her head in a bun, large, slightly sagging breasts, and a plump, matronly figure. All in all, her appearance drew a sharp contrast with the t-shirt, jeans, and white canvas tennis shoes that were this restaurant's uniform. She cocked her eyebrows at Yohji expectantly, and tapped her pencil on the pad to remind him that she was still waiting. For a moment, Yohji was fascinated by the blood-red polish she wore on her fingertips, but he quickly pulled himself back to the present.
"Um … yes," he stammered, reaching for a menu. "Three of these, please," he said. He pointed to the item he wanted, steadfastly refusing to say its name.
She glanced at the menu, and said, "All right. Three "Cat's Meow BLT's". Anything else?"
Yohji shook his head, and she turned to leave the table.
He waited until she had left to continue, "No. I told Crawford, flat out, that I wouldn't give Schu back to them. I need to give him to Kritiker, so that, maybe, they'll forget about going after Aya … and, me, too, I guess. Anyhow, Crawford didn't have a problem with that. He said getting Schu back from Kritiker was easier than running him to ground." Yohji shrugged. "Apparently, there's not that much loyalty between the members of Schwarz."
"No loyalty, huh?" Omi asked, his blue eyes wide. Somehow, he still managed to look innocent, even after all he had seen and done in his young life. He paused as the matronly-looking waitress brought their food, depositing the plates in front of them on the table, and then, just as quickly left. Omi leaned forward, grabbed the ketchup bottle from its spot near the wall, and said, as he unstopped it and poured a liberal helping over his fries, "Sounds about right. Well, where is the place? We need to check it out before we go get Aya."
Yohji shook his head, as he took the ketchup bottle from Omi's hand and poured some on his own plate. "No. There's no time for that, and "we're" not going. I'm going. Alone."
Ken refilled his coffee cup from the half-empty pot that still rested on their table. He leaned back in his seat, half of a BLT clutched in his hand, and glared at Yohji. "What, are you crazy?" he snapped. "There's no way in hell we're letting you go in there alone, and Omi's right. We've got to check it out first. What if it's a trap?"
"Oh, I'm quite sure it's a trap," Yohji replied calmly, as he took a bite out of his sandwich. "Damn, that's a good sandwich," he commented, almost absently. "Anyhow," he continued, "If I know Schu like I think I know Schu, he's not going to be happy with just killing Aya. That'd be too easy. He'd want Aya to suffer, just like he has. So, it almost has to be a trap. I'm sure Aya's assured him that he's not Kritiker any more, and that none of us is coming for him; that's the way that guy thinks, painful as it is for any of us to hear. But, I'm also sure Schu probably has more sense about stuff like this than Aya does. Aya wouldn't expect us to come. He wouldn't want us to come. But, Schuldich knows we'll come. We decide who is Weiss, not Kritiker. Everyone knows that. I'm sure Schuldich isn't any exception."
"Then," Ken mumbled, around a mouth full of sandwich and fries, "All the more reason for you not to go alone, and for us to check it out first. I mean, if it is a trap, it'd be stupid to go in there half-cocked like that."
Yohji shrugged and picked at the few fries remaining on his plate, shoving them around absently, as if they were pieces on a game board. "I know, but I don't care. Schuldich has already had Aya for five days." He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it onto the table, hard enough to make the coffee pot, cups, and plates clatter, and hard enough to draw the attention of the other patrons in the coffee shop. "Dammit," he hissed, "Five fucking days! There's no telling how that fucked up German's already played with his mind. You know how Aya can be … and Schu … if he's as strong as Crawford says he is right now, even if his powers aren't reliable … there's no way he won't be able to feed off the emotions and feelings Aya keeps locked inside … that desperation, that despair, that isolation he wraps around himself whenever he withdraws. It's only a matter of time before Schuldich breaks him. Now that we know where he is, we can't leave him there a minute longer. I'm going there this afternoon, to do recon, but that's it. Tonight, I'm going in after him." He looked up at Omi and Ken, meeting their surprised, frightened expressions with a steady, unblinking, determined gaze. "I won't leave him there any longer. None of this … none of it was his fault, and I want him back, dammit! I want him back … now."
On an impulse, Omi reached across the table and grasped Yohji's hand. He was half-afraid the older man would just pull away, but the youngest Weiss member had always been free with his emotions, and quick to express his feelings. To Omi's surprise, Yohji didn't withdraw at the contact. Instead, the older man gave the boy's fingers a gentle squeeze.
"I know," Omi said, looking steadily back at Yohji, praying that the older blonde wouldn't break their eye contact. "I know," he repeated, for emphasis, "We're scared for him, too, and we want him back, too. But, we don't want anything to happen to you. If you won't give me the time to really check the place out, at least let us come with you."
"No," Yohji stated flatly. He pulled his hand away from Omi's and broke eye contact with the boy, instead looking down at the half-eaten sandwich and massacred fries on the plate in front of him. "Aya … Aya didn't want you involved. He'd be furious if you were in danger; it'll make him mad enough that I come after him. Besides," he said, hesitantly, finally looking up to meet Omi's eyes again, "It's … safer … if I go alone."
"What are you talking about?" Ken asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the edge of the table, his voice indicating, with no uncertainty, that he didn't like what he was hearing. He didn't like it at all. "What … what do you mean "it's safer"?" he asked again, "What … did Crawford tell you?"
"He had a … premonition … vision … whatever the hell he calls them," Yohji said, slowly, trying desperately to push away the feeling of dread that seemed to have taken up residence in his heart, turning his insides to ice. "He saw … he said … he said things might not turn out … as … as I expected."
Ken's eyes narrowed suspiciously. The ex-goalie could be a little dense and slow on the uptake, but, at times, he was incredibly perceptive. Yohji shook his head at the look crossing his dark-haired teammate's face. It told him Ken was well on his way to figuring out exactly what he was talking about. Aya had told him, more than once, to never underestimate Ken, because there was so much more to the man than there seemed to be, and those words rang through Yohji's mind now. As always, Aya was right, and it still shocked Yohji that their silent, often antisocial teammate could be so incredibly perceptive. But, then, just because Aya rarely said anything didn't mean he didn't listen; it didn't mean he didn't pay attention to what went on around him.
"Death?" Ken asked, as if he didn't want to know the answer, but felt he didn't have any other choice except to ask the question.
Yohji nodded, quickly looking away from the glimpse of terror he saw in Omi's wide, blue, almost-innocent eyes.
"Schuldich?" Ken asked, hopefully.
Yohji shook his head.
"Then?" Ken prompted, drawing the information out as if he was pulling teeth from a lizard.
Yohji sighed and felt the feeling of dread lace itself around his heart, which seemed to skip a beat, as he said, "Aya … he … he saw Aya's death. He … he said it was only one possibility … only one possible future."
"OK," Ken stated, glancing down at the table, obviously lost in thought, "Then, what other possibilities has he seen?"
'Always the one with the hard questions, aren't you, Ken-Ken?' Yohji thought.
He paused for a heartbeat's breadth of time before he looked back at the ex-goalie and said, "None. He hasn't seen any other possibilities."
"Well," Omi said, slowly, carefully treading down the slippery slope that, with just one misstep, could sink them all into the quagmire of despair, "Isn't that all the more reason not to go in there alone?"
Yohji shook his head, "I don't think so."
"Did he say … did he see how it happened?" Ken asked, cutting Yohji off almost before the older man could complete his sentence.
"No," Yohji replied slowly, "He didn't see that, but I think … with the least amount of people there, there's less of a chance of things going wrong and ending up in … that … future … you know … the one Crawford saw."
"But," Ken persisted, "How do you know that, by going alone, you aren't doing the exact thing that leads to Aya's death?"
'Damn you and your stupid questions … that I can't answer,' Yohji thought, glaring at Ken. Finally, he sighed and shrugged, "I … I don't know, but I just have a hunch it'll be safer … safer and quicker to do it this way."
"You're gonna gamble Aya's life on a hunch?" Ken asked, chomping into the second half of his sandwich as he spoke.
Yohji glared at the ex-goalie for several moments, secretly wishing Ken would choke, not seriously enough to do him any harm, but just so that he would stop being so damn irritating. Ken ate and talked about gambling Aya's life away as if he was discussing shopping for groceries, or ordering out for dinner. Yohji reminded himself Ken didn't mean it that way. He knew Aya and Ken had their differences. Their personalities were too different to expect otherwise, but he also knew Ken had a deep respect for Aya. And, he knew Ken was just as worried about the redhead as he was. He just wished the idiot would act more like it.
After he got his anger under control, Yohji said, as calmly as possible, "No other choice. Right now, a hunch is all I have."
"All right, then," Omi stated, as if the matter was settled. "At the very least, we're going with you to do recon this afternoon." When Yohji started to protest, the boy shook his head emphatically, and stated, in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, "No arguments."
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence. Shounen-ai (implied)
Summary: Yohji and a critically injured Aya find themselves drummed out of Weiss and on the run from Kritiker. Against this backdrop, they must locate and retrieve something very precious to the man who betrayed Aya ... a man Aya still calls his friend, despite all that has passed between them. When their options run out, the boys have no choice but to undertake a foolhardy mission that will end up putting Aya at Schuldich's mercy. Will our kittens be able to extract themselves from this mess and return to Weiss? Or will Schuldich get his revenge, after all?
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 #3 in the "Nowhere Man" trilogy. Story #1: Nowhere Man. Story #2: Betrayal
Chapter 14
Yohji wasn't more than five minutes away from the coffee shop, after his meeting with Crawford, when his cell rang. He had a pretty good idea who it was, considering that no one except for Omi and Ken had his number. Well, there was that waitress, too, but he didn't expect it to be her. Yohji frowned as he clicked on the phone. His fingers were slightly numb from the cold, and it took a few missed, fumbling tries before he was able to hit the correct button.
"What the hell are you doing calling me like this?" he snapped into the cell, offering no other greeting.
The person on the other end paused for a moment, and, then, he heard Omi's hesitant voice, "Yohji? That you?"
Yohji sighed. "Yeah. Who the hell else would it be? What do you want? You shouldn't be calling me. What about those Kritiker agents watching you guys?"
"We're not calling from the shop," Omi stated. There was a slight pause, before he asked, hesitantly, "Did … the meeting? Did it…?"
Yohji heard a brief struggle, followed by Omi's squeak of surprise and irritation. After a couple of seconds of additional fumbling, Ken's voice boomed out, "What happened at the meeting?"
"Nothing," Yohji replied, shortly."That's bullshit, and you know it," Ken stated, irritation, anger, and frustration sneaking into his voice. He sighed and paused, as if he was trying to gain control over his emotions, before continuing, "You know we're not gonna accept that for an answer."
"I don't want you guys involved any more. Before, it was inevitable, but, not now. It's better if you're not part of this."
There was a miniscule pause, about the length of a heartbeat, before Ken stated, "Tough shit. You know we're already involved."
Yohji sighed in defeat, "Fine. But, I don't want to have this conversation on the phone. I'm heading back to that coffee shop… you know the one …. where I met Crawford. I'll meet you there in fifteen. I'll be in the back booth, the one closest to the rear door. Make sure you're not followed."
He didn't wait for Ken's response. Instead, he severed their connection and, with a sigh of frustration, flipped up the collar of his coat to block out the wind as he turned to retrace his steps to the coffee house he'd just left.
************************************************************
As expected, Yohji arrived back at the restaurant before Omi and Ken. As he entered the now-all-too-familiar shop, shrugging out of his coat as he walked, he paused briefly at the front counter. Seeing his familiar face, Lola immediately approached him, a wide, inviting smile crossing her mouth.
"You're becoming quite the regular here," she commented as she rested her crossed arms on the counter and leaned forward, until her face was inches away from Yohji's.
He smiled and leaned forward also, so that their noses were virtually touching. He could smell her perfume, and feel her breath against his cheek.
"Must be the scenery, darlin'," he commented, adding his best, crooked, little-boy grin, for good measure.
"I'm off in ten," she whispered.
Yohji sighed, and, leaning forward ever so slightly, brushed the side of her neck with a gentle kiss and a soft tug of his teeth, which earned him a giggle, as he said, "Sorry. I will be back for you, but I've got other things working today."
He leaned back, and seeing the pout on her perfect, ruby-red lips, smiled and said, "Now, don't be that way, Baby." He grinned at her until his charm finally won out over her anger, and she grinned back. "I'm meeting some friends … over there," he said, pointing to the dark booth at the back of the shop, "Could we get a pot of coffee, Columbian blend, and three cups?"
She nodded. "If you promise not to forget me, it can even be on the house," she said, softly.
Yohji pulled her close to him, over the counter, and whispered in her ear, allowing his lips to softly brush against her earlobe and the silver moon earring dangling there, "Sugar, you don't have to bribe anyone. You know I'll be back." He released her with a smile, and walked slowly toward the back of the restaurant.
'Shit, I hate this fucking, cat-themed coffee shop,' he thought, briefly, as he slid into the booth, tossing his coat to one side.
He stared around the restaurant, and frowned at the cats that were stenciled on every free inch of wall space, the cutesy, kitty-themed names on the menus, the cat-themed coffee mugs, plates, t-shirts, and other products offered for sale in the shop.
'Aya was right,' he thought morosely, as he propped one elbow on the table and rested his chin in his open, cupped palm, 'It takes one sick mind to come up with something like this.'
Yohji dropped into dark, foreboding thoughts as images of his missing friend passed through his mind. The sound of a coffee pot and three cups clinking onto the table roused him from his reverie enough that he glanced up and smiled briefly at Lola, nodding his thanks as she filled his cup with a mysterious, little half-smile. As soon as she left, Yohji retreated back into his thoughts of Aya. The redhead had been gone for five days now. Five days. It might as well have been five years, or an eternity. He didn't like it, not one bit. He didn't like not having Aya here, and the thought of the redhead in Schuldich's hands made Yohji's insides twist with fear and rage. Who knew what kind of crap that crazy, German bastard was pulling with Aya's mind? Even Crawford had said, point-blank, that Schuldich had gone crazy since the death of his lover at Aya's hands. There was no way of knowing what the red-haired Schwarz operative might do, in the name of revenge. Yohji was terrified of not getting to Aya fast enough --- before Schuldich had a chance to do any real damage. Out of all of them, Aya was, in most ways, the toughest, since he was able to cut himself loose from his emotions and operate independently of what his heart might tell him to do. But, ironically, Yohji sensed this very strength also worked to make Aya the most vulnerable member of the group. It was probably that innate vulnerability that had drawn him to the redhead's friendship in the first place, and that had led him to become so extremely protective of Aya. Aya was so tightly-wound, and everything about the redhead was such a delicate balance: he struggled to let go of all emotions, yet he still felt the pain of his sister's injury and the guilt of their chosen profession with a profoundness that was lost on the rest of them; he was always quiet, yet he really needed to talk, to let go of what he felt inside; he despised his own existence, yet he'd fight tooth and nail for any of the members on his team, even though he never expected or even wanted them to fight for him; he pushed everyone around him away, as if he didn't want or deserve friendship, but Yohji hadn't ever met anyone who needed the love and support of others as much as Aya did. The tall blonde knew, without a doubt, that Aya's sanity was a delicate balance they all struggled to maintain, perhaps for purely selfish reasons. After all, Aya was the one who held them together, caused them to work as a team, and, ironically enough, made them appreciate and care about each other. At any rate, if Aya was pushed too far, one way or the other, Yohji knew he'd go over the edge, and they wouldn't be able to get him back, ever. Although Aya could probably resist Schuldich's machinations for longer than the rest of them, if the redhead broke, Yohji feared it would do permanent damage, and, maybe, even completely destroy the Aya they knew and cared about. Crawford had said Schuldich's powers were going crazy, too --- zoning in and out, super strong one minute and then, gone the next, just like his emotions over the death of his lover. If that was the case, Yohji knew it was just a matter of time before Aya broke under the strain. And, the tall blonde couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him ever since Crawford had shared his vision of Aya's death with him. Even though Crawford had said it was only one possible future, that it could be changed, the man also indicated he hadn't seen any other possibilities --- only this one, ending in Aya's death. Yohji started to take a sip of coffee, but thought better of it, as his stomach to flip-flopped queasily at the thought of Aya, dead in that cold warehouse where Schuldich was keeping him. He wondered, not for the first time, if the redhead was already dead, but he forced his mind to shake off that thought. Schuldich had been interested in revenge; it was a good bet he wouldn't have killed Aya off so quickly.
'Shit,' Yohji thought, as he looked up in response to the jangling of the shop's door bells. He waved to Omi and Ken, and as they crossed the floor to join him, he thought, 'I just want him back. I don't care. I just want Aya back … now.'
*************************************************************
Omi frowned at the look on Yohji's face as he slid into the booth, opposite from the older man, Ken right behind him. The tall blonde's face was etched with worry, fear, and gloom, and he was haggard, drawn, and pale. Either Crawford hadn't told him anything, or the American had had nothing to share but bad news. Yohji had waved them over, but, now that they were sliding into the booth opposite him, it was almost as if he had forgotten they were even there. He stared at the table with a vacant, lost look that was so out of place for him it actually made Omi's heart ache for the pain Yohji must be feeling. He and Ken missed Aya, and they were worried about the redhead, too, but it was different for Yohji. Aya hadn't ever seen fit to allow either of the two younger Weiss members into his private world, and, even though Omi knew the redhead cared about them, too, Aya had never truly accepted their friendship or opened up to them --- not like he had with Yohji.
"So?" Ken asked, breaking into Omi's thoughts.
"So what?" Yohji answered.
"Come on," Ken hissed, frustration and anger evident in his voice, "Don't play that fucking game. Not with us. What the hell happened at the meeting with Crawford?"
"Ken," Omi warned, motioning with his hand for the older brunette to shush.
He had seen the way Yohji's eyes had narrowed, almost imperceptibly, and the way they had started to glitter with anger at Ken's challenge. He knew both Yohji and Ken were angry with Schuldich and distraught over Aya's disappearance, but he also knew his two older teammates well enough to know they would be more than happy to take their anger and frustration out on each other. He'd seen it happen on several occasions, and he'd seen Aya put a stop to it often enough to know the redhead thought it a huge waste of time and energy to fight amongst themselves. Yohji and Ken both knew it was a huge waste of energy, too. At the moment, however, they just didn't care. For his part, Omi would have been happy to just let them act like idiots and fight with each other, but it would waste time, and, in the end, it wouldn't help Aya at all.
After a moment, the younger blonde sighed and continued, "Look, we're all worried about Aya, and we're all mad as hell at Schuldich for taking him like that, not to mention at Kritiker, for going after him the way they did. But, fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to accomplish anything. Besides, you know Aya wouldn't stand for it, if he was here."
He glared at Yohji and Ken, switching his gaze from one to the other, until the two older men shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
After a few moments, Yohji sighed. He removed his sunglasses and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it loose from the elastic securing it at the back of his neck, as he said, "You're right, Omi." After another sigh, he muttered, "I just wish like hell Aya was here to stop us."
"Me, too," Ken added. He leaned forward to grasp Yohji's wrist in his tanned hand, bringing the tall blonde's eyes to his, "Sorry, Yohji. I'm just worried, that's all. Me and Omi … we feel completely out of the loop on this one, and, I guess it's just made me a lot more frustrated, that's all. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"It's all right," Yohji replied. "I'm sorry for keeping you guys out of this, but Aya … he really didn't want you involved. Fair or not, I think he wanted to protect you both from Kritiker. He didn't want you to share his fate. He didn't want me to, either, but I didn't give him any other choice."
Omi smiled as he reached for the two extra coffee cups on the table, pouring a serving, first, for Ken, and then, for himself. "You're probably the only person in the world who could get away with something like that with Aya."
Yohji laughed and took a small sip of his coffee, as he replied, "Yeah. I … I guess so."
Ken took a noisy slurp of hot liquid, frowning as it burned its way down his throat. After hastily shrugging out of his coat, allowing it to puddle in a heap behind his back, he asked, again, "So? What happened at the meeting?"
Yohji paused, still debating over whether or not he should tell his companions everything he had learned. After a few tense, silent moments, he leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on the table, and said, in a low, quiet voice, "Crawford knows where he is. He gave me the address. It's an abandoned building in the warehouse district, near the docks."
"So, was Schwarz behind this?" Omi asked, also pitching his voice at a quiet, conspiratorial level.
Yohji shook his head, "No. Crawford insisted he didn't have anything to do with it, and neither did Schwarz. He said Schuldich's gone crazy. He wants revenge on Aya because Aya killed his lover several months ago. According to Crawford, Schu's become obsessed with Aya, with getting revenge on him, destroying him … to the point where his powers are even going crazy --- zoning in and out. Crawford said Schu's mental powers can be incredibly strong one minute, and then, the next, gone completely, and it looks like he can't control them any more."
"That's the same thing Aya said, after Schuldich attacked him," Ken commented, taking another noisy slurp, which earned him a sharp, disapproving glance from Omi. The ex-goalie smiled at the young blonde over the rim of his cup, and shrugged, at which point, Omi sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes at the ceiling, as if to indicate that Ken was completely and totally hopeless.
"Yeah," Yohji replied. He leaned back in his seat and toyed with his coffee cup, twisting it around on its saucer, but he kept his voice low. It was almost lunch time, and the coffee shop was becoming crowded. He didn't want to take a chance on anyone overhearing their conversation.
"Why did Crawford want to help get Aya back?" Omi wondered, absently tilting his coffee cup back and forth, until some of the hot liquid splashed over its rim and onto the saucer beneath.
Yohji shrugged, "Who knows why the hell Crawford does anything? He said he didn't care if we got Aya back, but he wants to retrieve Schuldich. With Schu acting the way he has been, Crawford said no one in Schwarz can get close enough to him to catch him and bring him back into the fold."
"And you agreed to hand Schu over to them?" Ken asked, his eyes widening and his tone incredulous.
Yohji shook his head. He signaled toward the front counter, and one of the waitresses came over, order pad in hand. Sadly, his Lola's shift was finished. She had left the restaurant ten or fifteen minutes ago. Yohji had watched her walk through the door with a longing urge and no small amount of regret.
"You want something, hon?" the waitress broke into Yohji's thoughts, drawing his attention toward her.
He looked up into twinkling blue-gray eyes and a pleasant, broad face belonging to an older woman. She had silvery-gray hair, which she piled up on her head in a bun, large, slightly sagging breasts, and a plump, matronly figure. All in all, her appearance drew a sharp contrast with the t-shirt, jeans, and white canvas tennis shoes that were this restaurant's uniform. She cocked her eyebrows at Yohji expectantly, and tapped her pencil on the pad to remind him that she was still waiting. For a moment, Yohji was fascinated by the blood-red polish she wore on her fingertips, but he quickly pulled himself back to the present.
"Um … yes," he stammered, reaching for a menu. "Three of these, please," he said. He pointed to the item he wanted, steadfastly refusing to say its name.
She glanced at the menu, and said, "All right. Three "Cat's Meow BLT's". Anything else?"
Yohji shook his head, and she turned to leave the table.
He waited until she had left to continue, "No. I told Crawford, flat out, that I wouldn't give Schu back to them. I need to give him to Kritiker, so that, maybe, they'll forget about going after Aya … and, me, too, I guess. Anyhow, Crawford didn't have a problem with that. He said getting Schu back from Kritiker was easier than running him to ground." Yohji shrugged. "Apparently, there's not that much loyalty between the members of Schwarz."
"No loyalty, huh?" Omi asked, his blue eyes wide. Somehow, he still managed to look innocent, even after all he had seen and done in his young life. He paused as the matronly-looking waitress brought their food, depositing the plates in front of them on the table, and then, just as quickly left. Omi leaned forward, grabbed the ketchup bottle from its spot near the wall, and said, as he unstopped it and poured a liberal helping over his fries, "Sounds about right. Well, where is the place? We need to check it out before we go get Aya."
Yohji shook his head, as he took the ketchup bottle from Omi's hand and poured some on his own plate. "No. There's no time for that, and "we're" not going. I'm going. Alone."
Ken refilled his coffee cup from the half-empty pot that still rested on their table. He leaned back in his seat, half of a BLT clutched in his hand, and glared at Yohji. "What, are you crazy?" he snapped. "There's no way in hell we're letting you go in there alone, and Omi's right. We've got to check it out first. What if it's a trap?"
"Oh, I'm quite sure it's a trap," Yohji replied calmly, as he took a bite out of his sandwich. "Damn, that's a good sandwich," he commented, almost absently. "Anyhow," he continued, "If I know Schu like I think I know Schu, he's not going to be happy with just killing Aya. That'd be too easy. He'd want Aya to suffer, just like he has. So, it almost has to be a trap. I'm sure Aya's assured him that he's not Kritiker any more, and that none of us is coming for him; that's the way that guy thinks, painful as it is for any of us to hear. But, I'm also sure Schu probably has more sense about stuff like this than Aya does. Aya wouldn't expect us to come. He wouldn't want us to come. But, Schuldich knows we'll come. We decide who is Weiss, not Kritiker. Everyone knows that. I'm sure Schuldich isn't any exception."
"Then," Ken mumbled, around a mouth full of sandwich and fries, "All the more reason for you not to go alone, and for us to check it out first. I mean, if it is a trap, it'd be stupid to go in there half-cocked like that."
Yohji shrugged and picked at the few fries remaining on his plate, shoving them around absently, as if they were pieces on a game board. "I know, but I don't care. Schuldich has already had Aya for five days." He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it onto the table, hard enough to make the coffee pot, cups, and plates clatter, and hard enough to draw the attention of the other patrons in the coffee shop. "Dammit," he hissed, "Five fucking days! There's no telling how that fucked up German's already played with his mind. You know how Aya can be … and Schu … if he's as strong as Crawford says he is right now, even if his powers aren't reliable … there's no way he won't be able to feed off the emotions and feelings Aya keeps locked inside … that desperation, that despair, that isolation he wraps around himself whenever he withdraws. It's only a matter of time before Schuldich breaks him. Now that we know where he is, we can't leave him there a minute longer. I'm going there this afternoon, to do recon, but that's it. Tonight, I'm going in after him." He looked up at Omi and Ken, meeting their surprised, frightened expressions with a steady, unblinking, determined gaze. "I won't leave him there any longer. None of this … none of it was his fault, and I want him back, dammit! I want him back … now."
On an impulse, Omi reached across the table and grasped Yohji's hand. He was half-afraid the older man would just pull away, but the youngest Weiss member had always been free with his emotions, and quick to express his feelings. To Omi's surprise, Yohji didn't withdraw at the contact. Instead, the older man gave the boy's fingers a gentle squeeze.
"I know," Omi said, looking steadily back at Yohji, praying that the older blonde wouldn't break their eye contact. "I know," he repeated, for emphasis, "We're scared for him, too, and we want him back, too. But, we don't want anything to happen to you. If you won't give me the time to really check the place out, at least let us come with you."
"No," Yohji stated flatly. He pulled his hand away from Omi's and broke eye contact with the boy, instead looking down at the half-eaten sandwich and massacred fries on the plate in front of him. "Aya … Aya didn't want you involved. He'd be furious if you were in danger; it'll make him mad enough that I come after him. Besides," he said, hesitantly, finally looking up to meet Omi's eyes again, "It's … safer … if I go alone."
"What are you talking about?" Ken asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the edge of the table, his voice indicating, with no uncertainty, that he didn't like what he was hearing. He didn't like it at all. "What … what do you mean "it's safer"?" he asked again, "What … did Crawford tell you?"
"He had a … premonition … vision … whatever the hell he calls them," Yohji said, slowly, trying desperately to push away the feeling of dread that seemed to have taken up residence in his heart, turning his insides to ice. "He saw … he said … he said things might not turn out … as … as I expected."
Ken's eyes narrowed suspiciously. The ex-goalie could be a little dense and slow on the uptake, but, at times, he was incredibly perceptive. Yohji shook his head at the look crossing his dark-haired teammate's face. It told him Ken was well on his way to figuring out exactly what he was talking about. Aya had told him, more than once, to never underestimate Ken, because there was so much more to the man than there seemed to be, and those words rang through Yohji's mind now. As always, Aya was right, and it still shocked Yohji that their silent, often antisocial teammate could be so incredibly perceptive. But, then, just because Aya rarely said anything didn't mean he didn't listen; it didn't mean he didn't pay attention to what went on around him.
"Death?" Ken asked, as if he didn't want to know the answer, but felt he didn't have any other choice except to ask the question.
Yohji nodded, quickly looking away from the glimpse of terror he saw in Omi's wide, blue, almost-innocent eyes.
"Schuldich?" Ken asked, hopefully.
Yohji shook his head.
"Then?" Ken prompted, drawing the information out as if he was pulling teeth from a lizard.
Yohji sighed and felt the feeling of dread lace itself around his heart, which seemed to skip a beat, as he said, "Aya … he … he saw Aya's death. He … he said it was only one possibility … only one possible future."
"OK," Ken stated, glancing down at the table, obviously lost in thought, "Then, what other possibilities has he seen?"
'Always the one with the hard questions, aren't you, Ken-Ken?' Yohji thought.
He paused for a heartbeat's breadth of time before he looked back at the ex-goalie and said, "None. He hasn't seen any other possibilities."
"Well," Omi said, slowly, carefully treading down the slippery slope that, with just one misstep, could sink them all into the quagmire of despair, "Isn't that all the more reason not to go in there alone?"
Yohji shook his head, "I don't think so."
"Did he say … did he see how it happened?" Ken asked, cutting Yohji off almost before the older man could complete his sentence.
"No," Yohji replied slowly, "He didn't see that, but I think … with the least amount of people there, there's less of a chance of things going wrong and ending up in … that … future … you know … the one Crawford saw."
"But," Ken persisted, "How do you know that, by going alone, you aren't doing the exact thing that leads to Aya's death?"
'Damn you and your stupid questions … that I can't answer,' Yohji thought, glaring at Ken. Finally, he sighed and shrugged, "I … I don't know, but I just have a hunch it'll be safer … safer and quicker to do it this way."
"You're gonna gamble Aya's life on a hunch?" Ken asked, chomping into the second half of his sandwich as he spoke.
Yohji glared at the ex-goalie for several moments, secretly wishing Ken would choke, not seriously enough to do him any harm, but just so that he would stop being so damn irritating. Ken ate and talked about gambling Aya's life away as if he was discussing shopping for groceries, or ordering out for dinner. Yohji reminded himself Ken didn't mean it that way. He knew Aya and Ken had their differences. Their personalities were too different to expect otherwise, but he also knew Ken had a deep respect for Aya. And, he knew Ken was just as worried about the redhead as he was. He just wished the idiot would act more like it.
After he got his anger under control, Yohji said, as calmly as possible, "No other choice. Right now, a hunch is all I have."
"All right, then," Omi stated, as if the matter was settled. "At the very least, we're going with you to do recon this afternoon." When Yohji started to protest, the boy shook his head emphatically, and stated, in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, "No arguments."