Fanfic Archive: Redemption, 16
May. 28th, 2009 04:31 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 16
Yohji paced the floor of the waiting room, just outside the emergency room's surgical area. Aya was back there, fighting for his life. Up toward the nurses' desk, turn around, walk to the other end of the room, near the doors, pause, sigh in frustration, and slam his fist into the wall, only to turn around and do the whole thing again, over and over, until it seemed like he would wear a path in the floor and the rest of the people in the waiting room started watching him with nervous looks on their faces. On his tenth circuit, a hushed voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Sir? Sir?"
Yohji looked up to see one of the nurses standing in front of him. She was young, fairly attractive, and wore a kind smile on her face --- all of which was lost on Yohji. He was too worried to take even the smallest notice of the woman.
"Yeah?" he snapped, irritably.
"Um … maybe you'd be more comfortable if you sat down to wait, instead of pacing…?" she stated, allowing her voice to rise in a slight question mark at the end of her statement.
Yohji glared at her, unable to dredge up even a smidgeon of his Kudou charm, and hissed, in a low, deadly voice that left no room for argument, "Maybe you'd be more comfortable over there, behind your fucking desk, instead of here, bothering the shit out of me! Or, maybe you can chase down one of these people sitting here like lumps and force them to fill out some forms. I'll bet there are about a hundred damn things you would be more comfortable doing right now, instead of bothering me." He continued to glare at her until she retreated back to her desk, tears shining in her eyes. Then, he turned to glare at the other people in the waiting room, until they all looked away, rather than meeting the rage in his eyes. Satisfied, he was about to resume his pacing, when a familiar voice broke the silence that had just fallen over the waiting room.
"Things must be bad, if you're not even able to flirt, Yohji."
The voice came from behind him, but Yohji didn't have to look. He knew who it was. "Manx," he hissed, spitting the name out like it was poison. He turned to see the redhead standing near the wall behind him, next to the door.
Manx smiled and moved forward, a friendly-fake smile pasted on her face, "Long time, no see."
Yohji turned to face her, leaning against the wall next to her, and stating in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, "Let's not waste time on pleasantries, Manx. You know you're not really my favorite person now, much as it pains me to say so. All I want to know is if we can deal or not."
"Depends," Manx replied, "What've you got for me?"
"Schuldich, in exchange for backing off Aya. It's a good deal, Manx. Just think of the information Kritiker could get out of a bona-fide member of Schwarz. He's waiting for you, right out there, in the trunk of my car," Yohji stated.
"And, what are you going to give me in exchange for your life, Yoh…ji?" the redhead asked, drawing his name out in a sickly-sweet, teasing manner, a smile pasted across her perfect features.
Yohji shrugged, "I don't much care about my life at the moment. Just Aya's."
"How commendable," Manx muttered, her sarcastic tone belying the complimentary words. "Tell you what," she continued, her eyes crinkling in a smile that was no longer fake, but a genuine expression of pleasure, "I'll give you a two for one. I'll throw in your life, too, since it seems like everything worked out better than we had ever hoped. Really, it couldn't have gone better if we had planned it."
Yohji stiffened, ever so slightly, at her words. "What … are you saying?" he asked, slowly, as if he didn't really want to know the answer.
Manx shrugged, "Come, now, Yoh … ji. You're not as dumb as you want everyone to believe. I think you can figure it out, but, just in case, I'll lay it out for you. We were going to retire Abyssinian, but, after we realized Schuldich was after him, he again became too valuable a commodity to let go. Instead, we let Schuldich drive him out of Weiss. We realized Schuldich had gone rogue, and, without Schwarz's protection, he was a viable target, for the first time. Abyssinian was the perfect bait to draw him out, and, you played your part so perfectly … bringing him to us."
Yohji couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought that he was beyond caring, totally and completely numbed by what he'd been through tonight, but Manx's words set his temper boiling again. "You wanted this to happen?" he hissed, through clenched teeth. "Your fucking operatives shot Ay … Abyssinian! He almost died from that. And, now, he's in there, with a bullet in him … put there by Schuldich. And, you say you wanted this to happen?"
"Abyssinian's injury at the hands of Kritiker was regrettable. And, if we should happen to lose him, it will be a harsh blow to the organization. But, nothing that can't be remedied, in time."
"YOU BITCH!" Yohji screamed, causing the people nearest them to jump.
Manx and Yohji had spoken in hushed, whispered tones. None of the other people in the waiting room had overheard any of their conversation until Yohji's angry outburst. He twisted around, placing his hands on either side of Manx's head, trapping her within the circle of his arms, and leaned in toward her, until their noses were almost touching.
His voice was shaking with pent-up frustration and rage, as he snarled, in his deadliest, assassin voice, "You'd best turn around and leave here right now. We'll call this even, for now --- you get Schuldich, me and Aya, we both get to come back home. But, if you're smart … and I know you are one smart lady, you'll be praying that he doesn't die. Because, if he does, all bets are off, and I'm coming for you. I'm coming for you, for Persia, and for anyone else in Kritiker that I can get my hands on. And, I'm not going to stop until you're dead. I want that clear, right here, right now. I won't be satisfied until I wring the life out of you with my bare hands, my bare, fucking hands, you ice-cold, fucking bitch!" He slammed his fist into the wall next to Manx's head and smiled a satisfied smile at the fear he saw flit across her eyes as she jumped in response to the gesture. It was just the briefest, faintest glimmer of emotion, and then, it was gone, replaced by the cold, hard expression that normally shielded her lovely eyes.
"YOHJI!" Omi's voice squeaked out. The two youngest Weiss members had entered the emergency room door just in time to see the tall blonde slam his fist into the wall next to Manx's head. They hadn't heard his words, but it was obvious, from the blonde's body language, that he had been threatening Manx.
Ken was at Yohji's side in two strides, pulling the older man's arm away from the wall, pulling Yohji away from Manx. He allowed Ken to pull him away. As he turned, Manx grabbed at his arm. She barely brushed his skin with the tips of her fingers, but it was enough to make his blood crawl. He turned back toward her, a scowl on his face. Manx calmly held out her hand, palm up, and, with a facial expression somewhere between a snarl and a grin, Yohji dropped his car keys into her open hand.
"Maroon Lincoln Continental. Third row from the front in the ER parking lot," he stated, glaring at Manx. Without ever taking his eyes from the red-haired woman, he said, "Ken, go with her. Bubba's in the car, too. Much as I'd like to set him loose on her, I don't want to take a chance on her shooting Aya's dog."
Yohji glared after Manx as the woman turned on her heel and quickly left the emergency room with Ken.
"Yohji, what … what happened?" Omi asked, plucking at the older man's arm to get his attention. When Yohji turned around to face the boy, Omi gasped. He hadn't noticed before, but the tall blonde's clothing and hands were liberally stained with blood, which Omi figured, had to be Aya's. "Is … Aya … is he all right?"
Before Yohji could answer, a new voice broke in, "Mr. Kudou? Are you the one who brought in Mr. Fujimiya?"
Yohji turned to face the doctor who had just emerged from the double doors leading to the emergency surgical area. She was middle-aged, with a few graying strands of hair peeking out from under the surgical cap she wore, but her eyes, which were gray-blue, were kind, and her smile, although sad and concerned, seemed genuine. She was wearing greenish-colored scrubs, which were liberally splattered with blood, and tennis shoes, which had probably been white at the beginning of the evening, but were now also covered with drying blood. She smiled and waited for them to respond, but neither Yohji nor Omi, both of whom were staring at her with wide-open eyes, mesmerized by the blood on her clothing, gave any indication they had even heard the question.
Finally, she bowed slightly as she said, "I'm Dr. Takani. I'm one of the surgeons treating your friend." She gestured toward a room off to one side of the waiting room. "Perhaps we'd be more comfortable talking in there, if you'd come with me, please."
Yohji nodded woodenly, suddenly realizing that the feeling of dread, which had dissipated somewhat after recovering Aya, was back once more. He could feel it slithering around in his chest, like a snake, devouring him from the inside out. He followed the doctor toward the room, glancing behind him briefly to make sure Omi was coming, too. He was fairly certain he didn't want to be alone when he heard what the doctor had to say. The boy was there. Omi paused, briefly, to wave to Ken, who had just returned from securing Bubba in Yohji's car, which the two youngest assassins had brought to the hospital. Ken waved back and then crossed the waiting room to join them.
The small room contained a desk and two chairs. The doctor moved behind the desk to sit, indicating that they should take the chairs. Yohji and Omi dropped into them, and Ken, who had followed at some distance, stood behind them, leaning against the door, which he had pulled shut as he entered the room.
"I can have another chair brought in," the doctor started, giving Ken an eyebrows-raised, questioning look.
The ex-goalie grinned shyly and shook his head, "No, I'm fine, standing, thanks."
Dr. Takani sighed and thumbed through the chart she had carried into the room and placed on the desk in front of her. Finally, she looked up and said, "I really … I don't know exactly how to approach this, so I'm just going to be quite frank. I hope you won't mistake that for lack of caring." She watched the three men closely, waiting for some reaction, and, when they nodded at her, she continued, "Your friend … is very badly hurt. He has a number of injuries." She held up one hand and starting ticking items off on her fingers, as if she was going over a shopping list, "Broken ribs; a cracked collarbone; a dislocated shoulder; there's a bullet still in him, very close to his heart; he's malnourished and very dehydrated; it looks as if he's had nothing to eat and very little to drink for several days; massive blood loss; there are some old injuries that haven't healed; these have become infected, and, given his physical condition right now… Well, his body just isn't that strong. He's having trouble fighting off the infection. We're treating it with very strong IV antibiotics and hoping it won't spread, but I can't say for certain that it won't. We need to operate to remove the bullet and repair the damage from the gunshot wound he suffered, but we can't do that unless his condition stabilizes, which I'm hoping will occur in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If it does, we can take that bullet out."
"If … it doesn't?" Omi asked, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
Dr. Takani sighed heavily, "We do the surgery anyhow, and hope for the best. I can't take a chance on leaving the bullet in there any longer. We will do everything we can for him, and he seems to be a very strong young man, but, I don't want to lie to you. His chances are not very good. Not good at all."
Yohji felt as if the world was spinning around him, as if all the color and noise had spun together and was whirling around a drain, a blur of crazy shapes, colors, and sounds. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't believe that, after all this, Aya was going to die. Although the doctor was trying not to say the word, that was what she was telling them --- that Aya was dying. How could it be true? How could it happen like this, after all they had been through together? How could Crawford's damn prediction come true like this, when even the American had said it was only a possibility? He leaned forward, placing his head between his knees, as he struggled to catch his breath. It was warm in the room, much, much too warm, but Yohji felt his body shivering. He felt cold, as if everything inside of him had frozen over and become ice. He knew Omi, Ken, and Dr. Takani were talking to him, asking if he was all right, if he needed anything, but their voices sounded as if they were coming to him from under water. He could barely hear anything over the rushing of the blood through his ears and the wild, panicked thumping of his heart. He wanted to respond, to tell them he was fine, but he couldn't get his voice to obey. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was vaguely aware of the door opening, and, after a few minutes, Ken knelt down beside him and shoved a glass of water into his hand.
"Drink," he said, frowning at Yohji in concern.
The tall blonde was able to collect himself then. He took a shaking breath, then another, and managed to sit up, run his fingers through his messy, too-long hair, and take a few sips of water. After a few moments, he looked around to see Omi, Ken, and Dr. Takani all watching him with worried looks on their faces.
"S … sorry," he stammered, "I just … I just … I don't know. It's … it's a … lot to have to hear, and …".
"Are you all right?" Dr. Takani asked.
Yohji nodded. "Can … we see him?" he asked.
Dr. Takani nodded. "We've moved him to ICU, so that we can monitor him more closely. I've arranged for him to have a private room there. Normally, ICU patients are allowed only one visitor, for only short periods of time, but, in this case, I think we can make an exception and allow all three of you to see your friend. I don't really see what it would hurt, all things considered."
"Dr.," Yohji said, "I … I won't leave him."
Dr. Takani nodded again. "I figured as much. It's against hospital policy, but, again … I don't see what it could hurt, in this case. I'll make sure none of the nurses or other doctors bother you."
"Thanks," Yohji said. He managed to give her a weak smile.
Dr. Takani rose and moved from behind the desk, nodding her thanks to Ken as the ex-goalie held the door open for her. "I have to warn you," she said, "Mr. Fujimiya probably won't know you're there. He's heavily sedated, and there is a machine breathing for him. I thought you should know, before you went in there."
None of them replied, but Omi managed to nod his understanding to the doctor, while Ken hauled a very shaken, very pale Yohji to his feet.
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 16
Yohji paced the floor of the waiting room, just outside the emergency room's surgical area. Aya was back there, fighting for his life. Up toward the nurses' desk, turn around, walk to the other end of the room, near the doors, pause, sigh in frustration, and slam his fist into the wall, only to turn around and do the whole thing again, over and over, until it seemed like he would wear a path in the floor and the rest of the people in the waiting room started watching him with nervous looks on their faces. On his tenth circuit, a hushed voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Sir? Sir?"
Yohji looked up to see one of the nurses standing in front of him. She was young, fairly attractive, and wore a kind smile on her face --- all of which was lost on Yohji. He was too worried to take even the smallest notice of the woman.
"Yeah?" he snapped, irritably.
"Um … maybe you'd be more comfortable if you sat down to wait, instead of pacing…?" she stated, allowing her voice to rise in a slight question mark at the end of her statement.
Yohji glared at her, unable to dredge up even a smidgeon of his Kudou charm, and hissed, in a low, deadly voice that left no room for argument, "Maybe you'd be more comfortable over there, behind your fucking desk, instead of here, bothering the shit out of me! Or, maybe you can chase down one of these people sitting here like lumps and force them to fill out some forms. I'll bet there are about a hundred damn things you would be more comfortable doing right now, instead of bothering me." He continued to glare at her until she retreated back to her desk, tears shining in her eyes. Then, he turned to glare at the other people in the waiting room, until they all looked away, rather than meeting the rage in his eyes. Satisfied, he was about to resume his pacing, when a familiar voice broke the silence that had just fallen over the waiting room.
"Things must be bad, if you're not even able to flirt, Yohji."
The voice came from behind him, but Yohji didn't have to look. He knew who it was. "Manx," he hissed, spitting the name out like it was poison. He turned to see the redhead standing near the wall behind him, next to the door.
Manx smiled and moved forward, a friendly-fake smile pasted on her face, "Long time, no see."
Yohji turned to face her, leaning against the wall next to her, and stating in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, "Let's not waste time on pleasantries, Manx. You know you're not really my favorite person now, much as it pains me to say so. All I want to know is if we can deal or not."
"Depends," Manx replied, "What've you got for me?"
"Schuldich, in exchange for backing off Aya. It's a good deal, Manx. Just think of the information Kritiker could get out of a bona-fide member of Schwarz. He's waiting for you, right out there, in the trunk of my car," Yohji stated.
"And, what are you going to give me in exchange for your life, Yoh…ji?" the redhead asked, drawing his name out in a sickly-sweet, teasing manner, a smile pasted across her perfect features.
Yohji shrugged, "I don't much care about my life at the moment. Just Aya's."
"How commendable," Manx muttered, her sarcastic tone belying the complimentary words. "Tell you what," she continued, her eyes crinkling in a smile that was no longer fake, but a genuine expression of pleasure, "I'll give you a two for one. I'll throw in your life, too, since it seems like everything worked out better than we had ever hoped. Really, it couldn't have gone better if we had planned it."
Yohji stiffened, ever so slightly, at her words. "What … are you saying?" he asked, slowly, as if he didn't really want to know the answer.
Manx shrugged, "Come, now, Yoh … ji. You're not as dumb as you want everyone to believe. I think you can figure it out, but, just in case, I'll lay it out for you. We were going to retire Abyssinian, but, after we realized Schuldich was after him, he again became too valuable a commodity to let go. Instead, we let Schuldich drive him out of Weiss. We realized Schuldich had gone rogue, and, without Schwarz's protection, he was a viable target, for the first time. Abyssinian was the perfect bait to draw him out, and, you played your part so perfectly … bringing him to us."
Yohji couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought that he was beyond caring, totally and completely numbed by what he'd been through tonight, but Manx's words set his temper boiling again. "You wanted this to happen?" he hissed, through clenched teeth. "Your fucking operatives shot Ay … Abyssinian! He almost died from that. And, now, he's in there, with a bullet in him … put there by Schuldich. And, you say you wanted this to happen?"
"Abyssinian's injury at the hands of Kritiker was regrettable. And, if we should happen to lose him, it will be a harsh blow to the organization. But, nothing that can't be remedied, in time."
"YOU BITCH!" Yohji screamed, causing the people nearest them to jump.
Manx and Yohji had spoken in hushed, whispered tones. None of the other people in the waiting room had overheard any of their conversation until Yohji's angry outburst. He twisted around, placing his hands on either side of Manx's head, trapping her within the circle of his arms, and leaned in toward her, until their noses were almost touching.
His voice was shaking with pent-up frustration and rage, as he snarled, in his deadliest, assassin voice, "You'd best turn around and leave here right now. We'll call this even, for now --- you get Schuldich, me and Aya, we both get to come back home. But, if you're smart … and I know you are one smart lady, you'll be praying that he doesn't die. Because, if he does, all bets are off, and I'm coming for you. I'm coming for you, for Persia, and for anyone else in Kritiker that I can get my hands on. And, I'm not going to stop until you're dead. I want that clear, right here, right now. I won't be satisfied until I wring the life out of you with my bare hands, my bare, fucking hands, you ice-cold, fucking bitch!" He slammed his fist into the wall next to Manx's head and smiled a satisfied smile at the fear he saw flit across her eyes as she jumped in response to the gesture. It was just the briefest, faintest glimmer of emotion, and then, it was gone, replaced by the cold, hard expression that normally shielded her lovely eyes.
"YOHJI!" Omi's voice squeaked out. The two youngest Weiss members had entered the emergency room door just in time to see the tall blonde slam his fist into the wall next to Manx's head. They hadn't heard his words, but it was obvious, from the blonde's body language, that he had been threatening Manx.
Ken was at Yohji's side in two strides, pulling the older man's arm away from the wall, pulling Yohji away from Manx. He allowed Ken to pull him away. As he turned, Manx grabbed at his arm. She barely brushed his skin with the tips of her fingers, but it was enough to make his blood crawl. He turned back toward her, a scowl on his face. Manx calmly held out her hand, palm up, and, with a facial expression somewhere between a snarl and a grin, Yohji dropped his car keys into her open hand.
"Maroon Lincoln Continental. Third row from the front in the ER parking lot," he stated, glaring at Manx. Without ever taking his eyes from the red-haired woman, he said, "Ken, go with her. Bubba's in the car, too. Much as I'd like to set him loose on her, I don't want to take a chance on her shooting Aya's dog."
Yohji glared after Manx as the woman turned on her heel and quickly left the emergency room with Ken.
"Yohji, what … what happened?" Omi asked, plucking at the older man's arm to get his attention. When Yohji turned around to face the boy, Omi gasped. He hadn't noticed before, but the tall blonde's clothing and hands were liberally stained with blood, which Omi figured, had to be Aya's. "Is … Aya … is he all right?"
Before Yohji could answer, a new voice broke in, "Mr. Kudou? Are you the one who brought in Mr. Fujimiya?"
Yohji turned to face the doctor who had just emerged from the double doors leading to the emergency surgical area. She was middle-aged, with a few graying strands of hair peeking out from under the surgical cap she wore, but her eyes, which were gray-blue, were kind, and her smile, although sad and concerned, seemed genuine. She was wearing greenish-colored scrubs, which were liberally splattered with blood, and tennis shoes, which had probably been white at the beginning of the evening, but were now also covered with drying blood. She smiled and waited for them to respond, but neither Yohji nor Omi, both of whom were staring at her with wide-open eyes, mesmerized by the blood on her clothing, gave any indication they had even heard the question.
Finally, she bowed slightly as she said, "I'm Dr. Takani. I'm one of the surgeons treating your friend." She gestured toward a room off to one side of the waiting room. "Perhaps we'd be more comfortable talking in there, if you'd come with me, please."
Yohji nodded woodenly, suddenly realizing that the feeling of dread, which had dissipated somewhat after recovering Aya, was back once more. He could feel it slithering around in his chest, like a snake, devouring him from the inside out. He followed the doctor toward the room, glancing behind him briefly to make sure Omi was coming, too. He was fairly certain he didn't want to be alone when he heard what the doctor had to say. The boy was there. Omi paused, briefly, to wave to Ken, who had just returned from securing Bubba in Yohji's car, which the two youngest assassins had brought to the hospital. Ken waved back and then crossed the waiting room to join them.
The small room contained a desk and two chairs. The doctor moved behind the desk to sit, indicating that they should take the chairs. Yohji and Omi dropped into them, and Ken, who had followed at some distance, stood behind them, leaning against the door, which he had pulled shut as he entered the room.
"I can have another chair brought in," the doctor started, giving Ken an eyebrows-raised, questioning look.
The ex-goalie grinned shyly and shook his head, "No, I'm fine, standing, thanks."
Dr. Takani sighed and thumbed through the chart she had carried into the room and placed on the desk in front of her. Finally, she looked up and said, "I really … I don't know exactly how to approach this, so I'm just going to be quite frank. I hope you won't mistake that for lack of caring." She watched the three men closely, waiting for some reaction, and, when they nodded at her, she continued, "Your friend … is very badly hurt. He has a number of injuries." She held up one hand and starting ticking items off on her fingers, as if she was going over a shopping list, "Broken ribs; a cracked collarbone; a dislocated shoulder; there's a bullet still in him, very close to his heart; he's malnourished and very dehydrated; it looks as if he's had nothing to eat and very little to drink for several days; massive blood loss; there are some old injuries that haven't healed; these have become infected, and, given his physical condition right now… Well, his body just isn't that strong. He's having trouble fighting off the infection. We're treating it with very strong IV antibiotics and hoping it won't spread, but I can't say for certain that it won't. We need to operate to remove the bullet and repair the damage from the gunshot wound he suffered, but we can't do that unless his condition stabilizes, which I'm hoping will occur in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If it does, we can take that bullet out."
"If … it doesn't?" Omi asked, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
Dr. Takani sighed heavily, "We do the surgery anyhow, and hope for the best. I can't take a chance on leaving the bullet in there any longer. We will do everything we can for him, and he seems to be a very strong young man, but, I don't want to lie to you. His chances are not very good. Not good at all."
Yohji felt as if the world was spinning around him, as if all the color and noise had spun together and was whirling around a drain, a blur of crazy shapes, colors, and sounds. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't believe that, after all this, Aya was going to die. Although the doctor was trying not to say the word, that was what she was telling them --- that Aya was dying. How could it be true? How could it happen like this, after all they had been through together? How could Crawford's damn prediction come true like this, when even the American had said it was only a possibility? He leaned forward, placing his head between his knees, as he struggled to catch his breath. It was warm in the room, much, much too warm, but Yohji felt his body shivering. He felt cold, as if everything inside of him had frozen over and become ice. He knew Omi, Ken, and Dr. Takani were talking to him, asking if he was all right, if he needed anything, but their voices sounded as if they were coming to him from under water. He could barely hear anything over the rushing of the blood through his ears and the wild, panicked thumping of his heart. He wanted to respond, to tell them he was fine, but he couldn't get his voice to obey. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was vaguely aware of the door opening, and, after a few minutes, Ken knelt down beside him and shoved a glass of water into his hand.
"Drink," he said, frowning at Yohji in concern.
The tall blonde was able to collect himself then. He took a shaking breath, then another, and managed to sit up, run his fingers through his messy, too-long hair, and take a few sips of water. After a few moments, he looked around to see Omi, Ken, and Dr. Takani all watching him with worried looks on their faces.
"S … sorry," he stammered, "I just … I just … I don't know. It's … it's a … lot to have to hear, and …".
"Are you all right?" Dr. Takani asked.
Yohji nodded. "Can … we see him?" he asked.
Dr. Takani nodded. "We've moved him to ICU, so that we can monitor him more closely. I've arranged for him to have a private room there. Normally, ICU patients are allowed only one visitor, for only short periods of time, but, in this case, I think we can make an exception and allow all three of you to see your friend. I don't really see what it would hurt, all things considered."
"Dr.," Yohji said, "I … I won't leave him."
Dr. Takani nodded again. "I figured as much. It's against hospital policy, but, again … I don't see what it could hurt, in this case. I'll make sure none of the nurses or other doctors bother you."
"Thanks," Yohji said. He managed to give her a weak smile.
Dr. Takani rose and moved from behind the desk, nodding her thanks to Ken as the ex-goalie held the door open for her. "I have to warn you," she said, "Mr. Fujimiya probably won't know you're there. He's heavily sedated, and there is a machine breathing for him. I thought you should know, before you went in there."
None of them replied, but Omi managed to nod his understanding to the doctor, while Ken hauled a very shaken, very pale Yohji to his feet.