Fanfic Archive: Redemption, 17
May. 28th, 2009 04:33 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 17
Yohji stood in the kitchen doorway of their apartment above the flower shop, framed in the open door. A slight, cool breeze wafted into the room, bringing the smells and sounds of early Spring with it. He leaned against one side of the door jamb, holding a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, and silently watched Aya through the open doorway. It was the first warm, sunny day they'd had in the past several months, and the redhead seemed to be taking advantage of the early morning sunlight. Aya was sitting three steps down from the top of the stairway that led from their second-story kitchen to the alley beneath. He was leaning against the stair rail, soaking up the early morning sun's warm rays. His back was to the door, so Yohji couldn't see his face, but the tall blonde imagined he probably had his eyes closed. Aya looked more peaceful and at ease than he'd seen him in quite some time. Bubba sat on the step next to the redhead. The dog had looked up, briefly acknowledging Yohji's presence with a whine of greeting, but Aya hadn't bothered to turn around.
Yohji had been standing there, watching Aya for at least fifteen minutes, and, in all that time, the redhead hadn't moved or given any indication he knew anyone was standing behind him. The tall blonde didn't know whether that fact should upset him or not. On the one hand, Aya did seem peaceful. Still, this was Aya, for crying out loud, and Aya, if he had been at his best, would have known immediately that he was being watched. Yohji took another sip of coffee and silently told himself he shouldn't worry; Aya probably knew he was here, but it was just like the stubborn redhead not to give him the satisfaction of letting on that he knew.
Yohji took another sip of coffee and thought back over the events of the past several months. It all seemed like a huge, exhausting blur. He could hardly believe it, but, in just a few days, it would be April. From the looks of the weather this morning, maybe Spring was finally here, bringing much-needed renewal and relief from the cold, gray, rainy weather they'd had for so long. Yohji couldn't help but hope the new season would allow them all to renew and put the ugly memories of the past few months aside. He knew where the time had gone, but, still, he couldn't help but wonder at how it had passed so quickly. Aya had been in the hospital for almost a month, and, during the first few weeks of his stay there, Yohji's world had been reduced to the confines of Aya's room, a twenty foot by twenty foot expanse of nothing more than white --- white walls, white ceiling, white floor, white bed sheets, and one, deathly white, terribly sick assassin. Then, it was as if time had stopped for Yohji; it wouldn't start again until Aya was well. The doctors had managed to get Aya stabilized enough to remove the bullet from his chest, but he had just barely survived the surgery. For the first several, very tense days Yohji really hadn't thought Aya would make it. None of them had. Even with the bullet gone, the rest of Aya's injuries and the infection, which seemed intent on overtaking his entire system, had threatened to drag him down forever. Still, just when it had seemed hopeless, the redhead had managed, somehow, to pull through. After about a month in the hospital, Aya had had enough of doctors, nurses, squeaky shoes during the night, white walls and floors, and being poked and prodded, and he had checked himself out, against medical advice. He was still weak, still on antibiotics that were strong enough to kill a horse, and still had his right arm in a sling, since the dislocated shoulder, cracked collarbone, and bullet wound hadn't come close to healing. But, all in all, he seemed to be on the road to recovery. It appeared that he was getting stronger by the day.
Aya had been home for a little while now, and, they were all happy about having him back. Even so, Yohji felt as if the Aya who had returned to them wasn't the same one they had come to know in the weeks before his sudden, unexpected departure. He knew Omi and Ken felt it, too. Before all this had started, Aya had struggled to open up to them a bit, to let them into his life, but, after he came home from the hospital, he completely withdrew from all of them. It was worse than when he had first joined Weiss. He mostly kept to his room, as the rest of them refused to let him do any work in the shop, and he had virtually stopped talking. Yohji had tried to break through Aya's façade, to get the redhead to talk to him, but Aya even shut him out, which, Yohji had to admit, still stung, considering the close friendship they had developed. The only companion the redhead allowed near him was Bubba. The big dog was always with Aya, constantly shadowing him and never straying more than a few feet away. Yohji knew Aya had his own reasons for shutting them all out, and he constantly reminded himself that Aya's reasons were probably good ones. But, all three of them, and he, in particular, had put a lot of time and effort into breaking through Aya's walls, and Yohji had to admit that, seeing Aya the way he was now, even more shut off and withdrawn than he had been upon first joining Weiss, was damn frustrating and painful --- all the more so because he still cared about Aya, but he didn't have the first clue about how to help him. Yohji had felt helpless from the very beginning of this whole mess, as if he was watching a train wreck that he had no hope of stopping, and he was getting really, really tired of feeling that way.
Yohji sighed and moved away from the door, resolving to talk to Aya about it, right now, this minute, even if he had to use force to do it. The tall blonde moved to the cupboards over the sink and pulled down Aya's favorite coffee mug. He poured a cup of the hot liquid, black, just the way Aya liked it, and dumped in a spoon, which hit the cup's side with a soft, clinking sound. After pausing once more in the doorway to gather his wits and his resolve, he moved down the stairs to take up a seat directly behind his quiet friend.
"Hey," Yohji said, gently nudging Aya with his foot. When the redhead turned around and squinted up at him, Yohji held out the extra mug. "Coffee?"
"Mmmm," Aya said, reaching up with his good arm to take the offered cup. He held onto the spoon so that it wouldn't slide down to smack him in the face as he took a sip and said, around the cup's rim, "Thanks."
Yohji sat quietly for a minute, satisfied that Aya was, at least, tolerating his presence. Considering the way Aya had been ever since he had returned from the hospital, Yohji had halfway expected him to get up and quietly retreat back into the kitchen, and, then, shortly thereafter, up the stairs and to his room. Yohji pulled his sunglasses into place, shielding his eyes from the sun, and pulled one knee up to his chest, encircling it with his arm. He placed his coffee cup on the step beside him and started to pull one of the cigarettes out of his ever-present pack, but, once he had the stick out, Yohji thought better of it. Although he smoked occasionally, Aya never had liked second-hand smoke all that much, and he was a little afraid it might drive the redhead back inside. Yohji sighed and silently slid the cigarette back into its place. He rested his coffee cup and his chin on his drawn-up knee, and just waited, staring at the view of the alley and the street just beyond and hoping Aya would decide to speak.
After what seemed like an eternity, Aya asked, "Standing there long?"
"No," Yohji said, then, grinning sheepishly, he added, "OK, so, maybe fifteen minutes or so. What'cha doing out here, anyhow?"
"Nothing," Aya replied, "Just sitting thinking watching life happen."
Yohji looked around the alley. There were two cats digging in the nearest trash bin. One of them meowed loudly, apparently signaling success, before emerging from the garbage clutching half of a fish in its mouth. As Yohji watched, it leapt nimbly to the ground and darted for a darkened doorway, closely followed by its companion. A little farther down the alley, a homeless woman pushed her shopping cart toward the street, stopping every so often to pick up something from the ground. She muttered under her breath and shook her head as she tossed her newly found items in with the rest of her belongings. A small part of the street was visible from their back stairs, and, in the alley's opening, Yohji could see a man in a business suit waiting for the bus. Two passing cars ran through a puddle, one after the other, and splashed him with muddy water.
"Oh, yeah," Yohji smirked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, "And what a lovely life it is."
Aya shrugged his left shoulder. "Still life nonetheless."
It was silent for several moments, until Aya said, in a soft, barely audible voice, "You don't have to watch me all the time. I know you've been following me around, turning down dates so you can stay home and keep an eye on me. I'm not a child."
Yohji frowned and squirmed on his seat, caught off guard by Aya's words. In spite of the fact he was looking at Aya's back, the younger man's tone of voice told him Aya was spearing him with one of his knowing, "death-glare" type stares, all the same, and it made the tall blonde distinctly uncomfortable. "I I don't mean to treat you like a child. None of us do. We're just worried."
Aya sighed. "I know. I'm sor " His voice trailed off, and he sighed again, this time in frustration. "I know," he repeated.
Yohji watched as Aya bent his head forward to stare into his coffee cup. The blonde paused for a moment, and then, taking a deep breath, said, "Things haven't seemed all right. You haven't seemed all right. Not since you've been home, and we're all just worried about you. I know it probably that we probably irritate you, but we can't help it. You you're part of the family. So we worry."
Yohji saw an almost imperceptible stiffening of Aya's back. He almost expected the redhead to bolt for the door behind them, and, for a moment, he cursed himself for his choice of words. He could tell it was taking an incredible act of will to keep Aya in place at the moment, but he was thankful that his friend wasn't giving in to the urge to run away, as he had so often since his return.
Finally, Aya said, "I still hear him, you know. In in my mind, sometimes. It's not as bad, now, but " He paused and took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, heartfelt sigh as he muttered, "Shit. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I'll always hear him."
Yohji wanted to lean forward and touch Aya on the shoulder, just to give the redhead some measure of comfort, just to let him know he wasn't alone. But, somehow, he thought Aya wouldn't tolerate it. He didn't want to do anything that might cause the younger man to stop talking to him, but he could hear the empty, lost tone in Aya's voice --- the same as when he had found the redhead in that warehouse. He couldn't see his friend's face, but he imagined Aya's eyes had that same, empty look. It broke his heart, but he held his ground and refrained from trying to comfort the redhead in any way. Instead, he waited quietly, for Aya to continue whenever he was ready.
"I hear him saying things that I'm a murderer that I destroy everything around me that I destroy everything and everyone I care about that I deserve nothing from life, but death. It's it's like I'm standing at the edge of this cliff or, on this tall building and I hear him, telling me to jump, that it'd be better for everyone, if I did. And, the thing is I want to. I really want to do what he says. It's all the same things he said, you know when he had me. I tried I really tried not to give in, but he was so strong. And, now now I I hear his voice all the time. Sometimes sometimes, I don't even know if it's him, or if it's me my own mind. He never said anything that wasn't true that I didn't already know was true."
Yohji sat quietly for several minutes, digesting what Aya had told him. He had known Schuldich had messed with Aya's mind, but he hadn't realized it was this bad. He hadn't had any idea it was still happening. They hadn't heard anything from Schwarz for the past two months, but Yohji knew Crawford had broken into the Kritiker facility where the German was being held and reclaimed Schuldich. He didn't really think Schuldich was actively invading Aya's mind any longer. Crawford had already indicated he intended to "reprogram" the German, and he doubted Schuldich currently had the freedom he'd need to toy with Aya like this. It was more likely that whatever Aya was hearing was something left over from his stay with Schuldich, something the German had implanted during the redhead's captivity. Still, hearing Aya speak so calmly about it made him feel cold inside. It was almost as if hearing the words drop from Aya's lips made it true and prevented him from denying that his friend was still suffering, and Yohji hated that feeling. He shivered in spite of the warm sun and tried to cover the action by taking another sip of coffee. He waited for a little while longer, just in case Aya wasn't finished talking, but, when the redhead remained silent, he decided his friend was probably through.
"Aya, that's not none of that " he stammered, searching for just the right words to reach the younger man. Finally, Yohji sighed in frustration and decided to just plunge ahead with what he wanted to say, "It's not true, Aya. None of that is true. You haven't destroyed anything, or anyone that you care about. You do what you do, something you hate, just so you can take care of Aya-chan, and, because you believe in this kind of justice, when all other justice fails. I know you do. I've seen it in your eyes. But, you're not a murderer. How many times have you gone against Kritiker's orders to save an innocent? The orders are always the same: everyone dies, no witnesses to what we do. But, I can't even count the number of times you've rescued victims of our targets, given them new passports, money, and a way out of the country. The same for witnesses. I know you tried to hide it from us, to protect us, in case Kritiker ever found out, but we know about it. All of us do. And, what about Hank? You pulled him off the streets, gave him friendship, a new life, and asked nothing in return. Even when he betrayed you, you never turned on him. You gave yourself to that crazy fucker just to save his little girl, and, now, because of you, he has his daughter back and a new life, too. Shit! I wouldn't even be alive today if it wasn't for you. If you hadn't jumped in front of that freaking bullet, I would have died, right there in that warehouse. You never even thought twice about doing it. Fuck, Aya! You're a good man. You can't you can't let that twisted fuck Schuldich define who and what you are." Yohji took a breath and stared at Aya's back. He hoped the redhead was listening, but he couldn't tell. "If you if you let go if you let yourself go over that edge, shit, Aya, you're gonna be taking all of us with you. None of us even want to imagine being here or doing this knowing that you're dead. None of us would ever get over it, even if you are the most stubborn prick to ever walk the earth --- and bossy, to boot!" Yohji smiled a little in relief when he heard Aya chuckle at his little joke. "You say who you are, Aya. No one no one else. If you really believe you are a murderer, then there's no hope for you; Schuldich has already won. But, there are a lot of people who say differently, a lot of people, me, Omi, and Ken included, who say you're a good man, even if you have to do bad things, even if you have to do things no one should ever do. It doesn't change who you are inside."
Aya laughed, a harsh, hollow sound. "That's what my mother said, too."
Yohji's eyes narrowed in a suspicious look. "I'm sorry. I guess I don't follow you. I thought your mother was dead."
Aya nodded, and, without ever turning to look at Yohji, said in a soft, slightly unsteady voice, "Yeah, but I had a dream before, when I was in the hospital and, then, even after I came home. Every time I found myself standing at that cliff Schuldich whispering for me to jump and I really, really want to do it. Then, I'm on a beach walking with Schuldich following me still telling me things and my mom is there, in front of me, like she was waiting for me. And, she waves her hand and Schuldich he just goes away, just like that just the way I want to make him go away, but I never can. And, she walks with me, and shows me things." Aya leaned his head against the stair rail and sighed in frustration, "Shit I I sound crazy. I'm I'm crazy. I don't even know why I'm telling you this."
Yohji knew that tone of voice all too well. He knew, if he leaned around Aya's shoulder, he would find the redhead was blushing furiously. Aya never was one to talk much, and, hardly ever about his feelings. Yohji knew how hard it was for his friend to open up like this, especially after backsliding into his old, anti-social, introspective ways, but he didn't want Aya to stop. He had a strong feeling that, if they were going to keep Aya from jumping off that cliff, the redhead really needed to finish saying this.
"You're not crazy, Aya. And, you're telling me this because we're friends. No judgments, no nothing. Nothing but friendship," Yohji said, softly, urging the younger man to continue.
Aya took a deep breath, steeling himself to tell the rest of his story. After gathering his thoughts for a few seconds, he said, so softly that Yohji had to lean forward to hear him, "The ocean it's so calm like a giant lake more than the sea, you know. And, we walk and talk. And, she's not happy with what I've done with my life, but she shows me things she points to the water, and I see faces, a lot of them, maybe hundreds, I don't know. I can recognize some of them people I've let go, like you said, or people I've helped, like Hank or his daughter and you guys are there, too. And, she tells me that this is where I find my redemption."
Yohji was quiet for several moments. Finally, he said, "What what do you think about that?"
Aya's only response was to give Yohji that one-shouldered shrug once more.
Before Yohji could pursue the subject further, sounds from the kitchen alerted him to the presence of their two absent teammates. He smiled slightly as he heard Omi rattling around in the kitchen after a coffee cup and Ken pounding down the stairs from their bedrooms on the floor above the kitchen and living room.
"Here they are!" Omi called out. "Ken, I found them; they're both out here, on the stairs!"
Within a few minutes, Omi and Ken crowded into the open door behind Yohji. The older blonde twisted around to grin at the younger Weiss members, both of whom held steaming cups of coffee. Omi grinned back at him, and Ken, whose hair was still rumpled from sleep, yawned and gave Yohji a small, half-hearted, little wave. The older man couldn't help but smile at them. While Omi was neatly dressed in Khaki pants and a red sweater, Ken was still wearing the sweatpants and rumpled, white t-shirt in which he normally slept.
"So, kids, what's up? Just get outta bed or what?" Yohji asked, a teasing grin on his face.
Aya never turned around to look at the new arrivals. Bubba whined a greeting, although he never left his spot by Aya's side.
Omi moved out to sit between Aya and Yohji, one step below the oldest assassin and one step above Aya. Ken followed him and plopped down on the same step as Yohji. He leaned heavily into the older blonde with a grunt, jostling Yohji's elbow and spilling hot coffee on his hand in the process.
"Hey!" Yohji protested. "Watch it, doofus! Just 'cause you're not awake yet doesn't mean the rest of us can forgive being scalded so damn early in the morning."
Ken just grinned, shrugged, and noisily slurped his coffee.
"I think Ken just got up," Omi said, his cheerful voice seeming to blend perfectly with the sounds of spring around them. "But, I've been up for hours. I was downstairs, in the mission room, surfing the Internet."
"Yeah," Yohji said, just a hint of a chuckle coloring his words, "Looking for porn, I'll bet."
"I was not!" Omi yelled indignantly, a deep, red blush coloring his face. "You're the only one who surfs for porn on our Kritiker computer, and you know it!"
Yohji shrugged and grinned at the younger blonde, but he didn't even try to deny it. Why bother? They all knew it was the truth.
"So?" Ken asked, "What are you guys doing out here?"
"Ah, nothing," Yohji replied, "Sitting, watching life."
"Hmmm," Ken said.
After a moment, Omi exclaimed, "Oh! I almost forgot! I'll be right back!"
He jumped up and quickly clambered over Ken, who had been sitting directly behind him. In a few moments, they heard the sound of his footsteps retreating through the kitchen and pounding up the stairs.
Yohji gave Ken a one-eyebrow-raised, suspicious look, "You let the kid eat too much sugar this morning?"
Ken shook his head. "No, but I bet I know exactly what he's gone in there to get."
"The camera," Yohji and Aya groaned, in unison.
They had all chipped in several days ago to buy a digital camera as a gift for Omi, and the boy had been driving them crazy with it ever since. He dragged it out and took photographs at the least little provocation, and his three teammates were starting to think purchasing the camera had been a serious mistake.
Within minutes, Omi emerged from the kitchen holding his camera and a tripod. He clambered over Ken, hitting the ex-goalie in the head with the tripod in the process, which earned a grunt of protest. Omi waved a quick apology, jumped over Bubba, and took the rest of the steps two at a time until he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He fiddled with the tripod for a few seconds, until he got it set at the correct height. Then, he quickly screwed the camera into place and set its automatic timer.
As he fiddled with the focus, he looked up and smiled at his friends, "Just just one quick picture." When the other three groaned in response, he stood up, placed his hands on his hips, and said, in an irritated voice, "Come on! It'll only take a second, and you're all already out here!" He gave them an innocent, angelic smile. Anyone seeing that smile would never believe the boy was a deadly assassin. After a few more seconds of fiddling with the knobs, he said, "All right, tighten up a bit."
He waved his hand in the air, to indicate that the rest of them should move in closer. At first, no one moved, but, after Omi gave them a sad, pouty look, they all moved in together, each of them rolling his eyes and groaning in protest. Yohji moved down to sit directly behind Aya and placed his arm around the redhead's neck, gently drawing him back so that Aya was leaning against his chest. Ken moved one step above and slightly to the right side of Yohji, and leaned over the older man's right shoulder. Even Bubba, as if he understood what was happening, got up to amble closer to Aya. The big dog clambered halfway into Aya's lap, as far as he could fit, and Aya chuckled and placed his hand on the dog's big, square head.
"OK!" Omi squeaked.
He pushed the button to start the timer and dashed into the picture, positioning himself on the step below Aya, right in front of the redhead. As the flash went off, both Omi and Yohji gave a "peace sign" signal by putting the first two fingers of their right hands into a "v" shape.
Once the photo was done, Omi jogged back to the bottom of the stairs, where he bent down and reviewed the results on the camera's video screen. Obviously pleased with what he saw, he smiled and waved at his friends before dismantling the camera and tripod set up.
"A good one!" he cried, enthusiastically.
As he started to take the camera off the tripod, he stopped, with a startled expression on his face, and pulled something out of his back pocket. "Oh! I I almost forgot! This came this morning. It's for you, Aya."
He walked forward and held a sealed envelope out to the redhead. Yohji, who was still sitting close to Aya, leaned over his friend's shoulder to see it. He saw Aya's name, and frowned when he recognized Manx's neat handwriting. Aya frowned, too, and, without a word, tore the envelope open. A single piece of paper, which had been folded in half, fell out. One line was printed on it: "Retirement options; Kritiker, 10:30 AM."
Aya glanced at his watch, frowning when he noticed it read: "9:30". He shoved Bubba off him as gently as he could, considering that he could only use his left arm. Once the dog had moved, he slowly pulled himself to his feet, using the hand rail for leverage, and carefully, almost clumsily, as if he was afraid he would fall, turned and started to head for the open kitchen doorway.
Yohji grabbed Aya's free wrist, and asked, "Where you going?"
Aya didn't look Yohji in the eye, but he replied, quietly, "I have to go."
The blonde refused to release his wrist, and Aya finally turned toward his friend, looking at Yohji with sad, tired blue-violet eyes.
"Yohji, please. I have to go."
Yohji shook his head, "No. She can come here, if she wants to talk. She can come here and do it with all of us present."
Aya sighed, "It's best for me to go alone, but, even if you were there, it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't keep Kritiker from doing anything they want to do. Stop worrying so much, Yohji."
"Like hell!" Yohji snapped. He stood up and tossed the remnants of his coffee over the side of the stair rail. "At the very least, I'm going with you."
"No, you're not," Aya argued as he attempted, without success, to shrug off Yohji's restraining hand.
The blonde tightened his grip on Aya's wrist. He could see a dark bruise discoloring Aya's skin, but he refused to let go. "And, how are you gonna get there? Take a bus? You can't drive with that shoulder like that, and, even if you could, you're still too weak and too hopped up on painkillers."
When it looked like Aya was still going to refuse, Yohji said, softly, "Come on, Aya. I'll just drive you there. I'll wait outside. Please." He knew he was begging, but he couldn't stand the thought of Aya going alone. Manx had assured him that he and Aya were both back in Kritiker, free and clear, but Yohji couldn't shake the feeling that, if Aya went to this meeting alone, they'd never see him again.
Aya looked away, and said, in a soft whisper of a voice, "They'll send a car. I'm sorry, Yohji. It it has to be this way."
He shook off the blonde's restraining hand, and slowly made his way back into the kitchen, as Yohji lit up his first cigarette of the day and angrily smoked it, cursing under his breath.
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The morning crowd in the flower shop was fairly light for a Saturday, which was just as well. None of them was much in the mood for working at their so-called "day jobs". Yohji had remained on the back steps for two hours after Aya's departure, chain smoking and cursing softly. Ken and Omi had opened up the shop, but the normal, jovial manner they normally had in dealing with the customers was noticeably absent. Several of their regulars commented that they hoped nothing serious was wrong, at which point Omi just smiled sadly, shook his head, and told them they were worried about a sick friend. After a couple of hours, Yohji finally came into the shop, but he didn't even try to help out with the customers. While Omi and Ken tried to occupy their minds with busy work --- straightening out the coolers, restocking the emptied flower buckets, or straightening the back supply room --- Yohji sat at the table near the cash register, smoking and silently staring into space.
Four hours after his departure for the meeting with Kritiker, Aya returned. He entered, unnoticed, through the front door, and paused, taking in the scene before him. The first wave of fan girls had, apparently, taken over the store. They crowded around Ken and Omi, jumping up and down and yelling to be heard over the voices of their companions, each one asking for this kind of flower, or that kind of flower, or what she should buy for a sick friend anything to get the two boys to notice them. Omi and Ken were doing their best to assist the girls and keep peace in the shop, but Aya could tell their hearts weren't in it. He'd never seen either of them look quite so dejected, and neither of them were listening to anything the girls said. It was as if they were moving in slow motion or on auto pilot. Although there were only about ten or fifteen girls in this group, a small gathering in comparison to the ones they had on school days, the noise level in the shop was loud enough to sound like at least a hundred clamoring, insistent, subtly whiney girls, all begging for attention at once. Aya could hardly hear himself think. Yohji sat at the table near the cash register, seemingly oblivious to the din. He stared off into space, and, even though he wore his sunglasses, there was no mistaking the dark, angry look on his face, which had been enough to ensure that no one approached him. He had, obviously, been chain smoking, as Aya could see three empty packs of cigarettes on the table in front of him.
Aya shook his head and quietly made his way, unnoticed by the school girls or his teammates, into the shop. He stopped in front of the table and waited for Yohji to notice him. When the tall blonde realized someone was standing in front of him, throwing a shadow across the table, he started to growl at them to move. When he realized it was Aya, the angry words died in his throat, and he stood up from the table, a relieved expression crossing his face and his eyes, which Aya could just barely see behind the dark lenses of his glasses. Omi and Ken saw Aya, too, and they, somehow, managed to break away from the group of fan girls without anyone noticing their absence.
The four assassins gathered around the table, and Aya threw something down onto it. It was an envelope. Yohji picked it up, and started to thumb through its contents, but without really noticing what they were.
"So?" the blonde asked in a hushed voice, "What what happened?"
Aya stared at the table top, and softly replied, adopting the same, hushed tone Yohji had used, to prevent anyone nearby from overhearing their conversation, "Kritiker has placed Weiss on indefinite leave. They offered to let me out, free and clear. I guess it was their way of apologizing for trying to retire me."
He turned to walk away, but his three friends stopped him.
"So?" Yohji asked.
"So, I said no," Aya replied.
"But, are you sure?" Ken asked. "I mean it's your one chance to have a life a normal life, without you know. They won't ever offer again."
Aya gave a half-hearted left shoulder shrug, wincing in pain as he did so. "If I wasn't here who would keep you guys out of trouble? I mean I'm gone one morning, and look at this place --- full of non-buying customers, and looking like a tornado hit it." He looked up to see his three friends watching him with anxious, worried expressions, and he smiled, one of his rare, shy smiles, "I'm sure. But, I did tell them a vacation would be nice. Someplace warm." He nodded toward the envelope in Yohji's hand, and said, "Hawaii."
Yohji frowned in confusion and took a closer look at the envelope's contents. There were, indeed, four tickets to Hawaii, four passports, and a sheet of paper confirming hotel reservations for a two week stay at a resort on Maui. "Hot damn," he muttered, grinning at Aya.
Aya grinned back, a genuine grin this time, and not a shy, half-hidden smile. The redhead turned and made his way toward the back room, obviously intending to retreat upstairs to their living quarters. He stopped at the doorway separating the shop's customer area from its supply room and turned to look at the crowd in the store.
"IF YOU'RE NOT BUYING ANYTHING, GET OUT!" he yelled, before ducking into the darkened supply room.
Yohji laughed at Aya's retreating figure. For the first time in quite a while, the blonde had the feeling everything was right with the world, all in place, just as it should be.
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 17
Yohji stood in the kitchen doorway of their apartment above the flower shop, framed in the open door. A slight, cool breeze wafted into the room, bringing the smells and sounds of early Spring with it. He leaned against one side of the door jamb, holding a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, and silently watched Aya through the open doorway. It was the first warm, sunny day they'd had in the past several months, and the redhead seemed to be taking advantage of the early morning sunlight. Aya was sitting three steps down from the top of the stairway that led from their second-story kitchen to the alley beneath. He was leaning against the stair rail, soaking up the early morning sun's warm rays. His back was to the door, so Yohji couldn't see his face, but the tall blonde imagined he probably had his eyes closed. Aya looked more peaceful and at ease than he'd seen him in quite some time. Bubba sat on the step next to the redhead. The dog had looked up, briefly acknowledging Yohji's presence with a whine of greeting, but Aya hadn't bothered to turn around.
Yohji had been standing there, watching Aya for at least fifteen minutes, and, in all that time, the redhead hadn't moved or given any indication he knew anyone was standing behind him. The tall blonde didn't know whether that fact should upset him or not. On the one hand, Aya did seem peaceful. Still, this was Aya, for crying out loud, and Aya, if he had been at his best, would have known immediately that he was being watched. Yohji took another sip of coffee and silently told himself he shouldn't worry; Aya probably knew he was here, but it was just like the stubborn redhead not to give him the satisfaction of letting on that he knew.
Yohji took another sip of coffee and thought back over the events of the past several months. It all seemed like a huge, exhausting blur. He could hardly believe it, but, in just a few days, it would be April. From the looks of the weather this morning, maybe Spring was finally here, bringing much-needed renewal and relief from the cold, gray, rainy weather they'd had for so long. Yohji couldn't help but hope the new season would allow them all to renew and put the ugly memories of the past few months aside. He knew where the time had gone, but, still, he couldn't help but wonder at how it had passed so quickly. Aya had been in the hospital for almost a month, and, during the first few weeks of his stay there, Yohji's world had been reduced to the confines of Aya's room, a twenty foot by twenty foot expanse of nothing more than white --- white walls, white ceiling, white floor, white bed sheets, and one, deathly white, terribly sick assassin. Then, it was as if time had stopped for Yohji; it wouldn't start again until Aya was well. The doctors had managed to get Aya stabilized enough to remove the bullet from his chest, but he had just barely survived the surgery. For the first several, very tense days Yohji really hadn't thought Aya would make it. None of them had. Even with the bullet gone, the rest of Aya's injuries and the infection, which seemed intent on overtaking his entire system, had threatened to drag him down forever. Still, just when it had seemed hopeless, the redhead had managed, somehow, to pull through. After about a month in the hospital, Aya had had enough of doctors, nurses, squeaky shoes during the night, white walls and floors, and being poked and prodded, and he had checked himself out, against medical advice. He was still weak, still on antibiotics that were strong enough to kill a horse, and still had his right arm in a sling, since the dislocated shoulder, cracked collarbone, and bullet wound hadn't come close to healing. But, all in all, he seemed to be on the road to recovery. It appeared that he was getting stronger by the day.
Aya had been home for a little while now, and, they were all happy about having him back. Even so, Yohji felt as if the Aya who had returned to them wasn't the same one they had come to know in the weeks before his sudden, unexpected departure. He knew Omi and Ken felt it, too. Before all this had started, Aya had struggled to open up to them a bit, to let them into his life, but, after he came home from the hospital, he completely withdrew from all of them. It was worse than when he had first joined Weiss. He mostly kept to his room, as the rest of them refused to let him do any work in the shop, and he had virtually stopped talking. Yohji had tried to break through Aya's façade, to get the redhead to talk to him, but Aya even shut him out, which, Yohji had to admit, still stung, considering the close friendship they had developed. The only companion the redhead allowed near him was Bubba. The big dog was always with Aya, constantly shadowing him and never straying more than a few feet away. Yohji knew Aya had his own reasons for shutting them all out, and he constantly reminded himself that Aya's reasons were probably good ones. But, all three of them, and he, in particular, had put a lot of time and effort into breaking through Aya's walls, and Yohji had to admit that, seeing Aya the way he was now, even more shut off and withdrawn than he had been upon first joining Weiss, was damn frustrating and painful --- all the more so because he still cared about Aya, but he didn't have the first clue about how to help him. Yohji had felt helpless from the very beginning of this whole mess, as if he was watching a train wreck that he had no hope of stopping, and he was getting really, really tired of feeling that way.
Yohji sighed and moved away from the door, resolving to talk to Aya about it, right now, this minute, even if he had to use force to do it. The tall blonde moved to the cupboards over the sink and pulled down Aya's favorite coffee mug. He poured a cup of the hot liquid, black, just the way Aya liked it, and dumped in a spoon, which hit the cup's side with a soft, clinking sound. After pausing once more in the doorway to gather his wits and his resolve, he moved down the stairs to take up a seat directly behind his quiet friend.
"Hey," Yohji said, gently nudging Aya with his foot. When the redhead turned around and squinted up at him, Yohji held out the extra mug. "Coffee?"
"Mmmm," Aya said, reaching up with his good arm to take the offered cup. He held onto the spoon so that it wouldn't slide down to smack him in the face as he took a sip and said, around the cup's rim, "Thanks."
Yohji sat quietly for a minute, satisfied that Aya was, at least, tolerating his presence. Considering the way Aya had been ever since he had returned from the hospital, Yohji had halfway expected him to get up and quietly retreat back into the kitchen, and, then, shortly thereafter, up the stairs and to his room. Yohji pulled his sunglasses into place, shielding his eyes from the sun, and pulled one knee up to his chest, encircling it with his arm. He placed his coffee cup on the step beside him and started to pull one of the cigarettes out of his ever-present pack, but, once he had the stick out, Yohji thought better of it. Although he smoked occasionally, Aya never had liked second-hand smoke all that much, and he was a little afraid it might drive the redhead back inside. Yohji sighed and silently slid the cigarette back into its place. He rested his coffee cup and his chin on his drawn-up knee, and just waited, staring at the view of the alley and the street just beyond and hoping Aya would decide to speak.
After what seemed like an eternity, Aya asked, "Standing there long?"
"No," Yohji said, then, grinning sheepishly, he added, "OK, so, maybe fifteen minutes or so. What'cha doing out here, anyhow?"
"Nothing," Aya replied, "Just sitting thinking watching life happen."
Yohji looked around the alley. There were two cats digging in the nearest trash bin. One of them meowed loudly, apparently signaling success, before emerging from the garbage clutching half of a fish in its mouth. As Yohji watched, it leapt nimbly to the ground and darted for a darkened doorway, closely followed by its companion. A little farther down the alley, a homeless woman pushed her shopping cart toward the street, stopping every so often to pick up something from the ground. She muttered under her breath and shook her head as she tossed her newly found items in with the rest of her belongings. A small part of the street was visible from their back stairs, and, in the alley's opening, Yohji could see a man in a business suit waiting for the bus. Two passing cars ran through a puddle, one after the other, and splashed him with muddy water.
"Oh, yeah," Yohji smirked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, "And what a lovely life it is."
Aya shrugged his left shoulder. "Still life nonetheless."
It was silent for several moments, until Aya said, in a soft, barely audible voice, "You don't have to watch me all the time. I know you've been following me around, turning down dates so you can stay home and keep an eye on me. I'm not a child."
Yohji frowned and squirmed on his seat, caught off guard by Aya's words. In spite of the fact he was looking at Aya's back, the younger man's tone of voice told him Aya was spearing him with one of his knowing, "death-glare" type stares, all the same, and it made the tall blonde distinctly uncomfortable. "I I don't mean to treat you like a child. None of us do. We're just worried."
Aya sighed. "I know. I'm sor " His voice trailed off, and he sighed again, this time in frustration. "I know," he repeated.
Yohji watched as Aya bent his head forward to stare into his coffee cup. The blonde paused for a moment, and then, taking a deep breath, said, "Things haven't seemed all right. You haven't seemed all right. Not since you've been home, and we're all just worried about you. I know it probably that we probably irritate you, but we can't help it. You you're part of the family. So we worry."
Yohji saw an almost imperceptible stiffening of Aya's back. He almost expected the redhead to bolt for the door behind them, and, for a moment, he cursed himself for his choice of words. He could tell it was taking an incredible act of will to keep Aya in place at the moment, but he was thankful that his friend wasn't giving in to the urge to run away, as he had so often since his return.
Finally, Aya said, "I still hear him, you know. In in my mind, sometimes. It's not as bad, now, but " He paused and took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, heartfelt sigh as he muttered, "Shit. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I'll always hear him."
Yohji wanted to lean forward and touch Aya on the shoulder, just to give the redhead some measure of comfort, just to let him know he wasn't alone. But, somehow, he thought Aya wouldn't tolerate it. He didn't want to do anything that might cause the younger man to stop talking to him, but he could hear the empty, lost tone in Aya's voice --- the same as when he had found the redhead in that warehouse. He couldn't see his friend's face, but he imagined Aya's eyes had that same, empty look. It broke his heart, but he held his ground and refrained from trying to comfort the redhead in any way. Instead, he waited quietly, for Aya to continue whenever he was ready.
"I hear him saying things that I'm a murderer that I destroy everything around me that I destroy everything and everyone I care about that I deserve nothing from life, but death. It's it's like I'm standing at the edge of this cliff or, on this tall building and I hear him, telling me to jump, that it'd be better for everyone, if I did. And, the thing is I want to. I really want to do what he says. It's all the same things he said, you know when he had me. I tried I really tried not to give in, but he was so strong. And, now now I I hear his voice all the time. Sometimes sometimes, I don't even know if it's him, or if it's me my own mind. He never said anything that wasn't true that I didn't already know was true."
Yohji sat quietly for several minutes, digesting what Aya had told him. He had known Schuldich had messed with Aya's mind, but he hadn't realized it was this bad. He hadn't had any idea it was still happening. They hadn't heard anything from Schwarz for the past two months, but Yohji knew Crawford had broken into the Kritiker facility where the German was being held and reclaimed Schuldich. He didn't really think Schuldich was actively invading Aya's mind any longer. Crawford had already indicated he intended to "reprogram" the German, and he doubted Schuldich currently had the freedom he'd need to toy with Aya like this. It was more likely that whatever Aya was hearing was something left over from his stay with Schuldich, something the German had implanted during the redhead's captivity. Still, hearing Aya speak so calmly about it made him feel cold inside. It was almost as if hearing the words drop from Aya's lips made it true and prevented him from denying that his friend was still suffering, and Yohji hated that feeling. He shivered in spite of the warm sun and tried to cover the action by taking another sip of coffee. He waited for a little while longer, just in case Aya wasn't finished talking, but, when the redhead remained silent, he decided his friend was probably through.
"Aya, that's not none of that " he stammered, searching for just the right words to reach the younger man. Finally, Yohji sighed in frustration and decided to just plunge ahead with what he wanted to say, "It's not true, Aya. None of that is true. You haven't destroyed anything, or anyone that you care about. You do what you do, something you hate, just so you can take care of Aya-chan, and, because you believe in this kind of justice, when all other justice fails. I know you do. I've seen it in your eyes. But, you're not a murderer. How many times have you gone against Kritiker's orders to save an innocent? The orders are always the same: everyone dies, no witnesses to what we do. But, I can't even count the number of times you've rescued victims of our targets, given them new passports, money, and a way out of the country. The same for witnesses. I know you tried to hide it from us, to protect us, in case Kritiker ever found out, but we know about it. All of us do. And, what about Hank? You pulled him off the streets, gave him friendship, a new life, and asked nothing in return. Even when he betrayed you, you never turned on him. You gave yourself to that crazy fucker just to save his little girl, and, now, because of you, he has his daughter back and a new life, too. Shit! I wouldn't even be alive today if it wasn't for you. If you hadn't jumped in front of that freaking bullet, I would have died, right there in that warehouse. You never even thought twice about doing it. Fuck, Aya! You're a good man. You can't you can't let that twisted fuck Schuldich define who and what you are." Yohji took a breath and stared at Aya's back. He hoped the redhead was listening, but he couldn't tell. "If you if you let go if you let yourself go over that edge, shit, Aya, you're gonna be taking all of us with you. None of us even want to imagine being here or doing this knowing that you're dead. None of us would ever get over it, even if you are the most stubborn prick to ever walk the earth --- and bossy, to boot!" Yohji smiled a little in relief when he heard Aya chuckle at his little joke. "You say who you are, Aya. No one no one else. If you really believe you are a murderer, then there's no hope for you; Schuldich has already won. But, there are a lot of people who say differently, a lot of people, me, Omi, and Ken included, who say you're a good man, even if you have to do bad things, even if you have to do things no one should ever do. It doesn't change who you are inside."
Aya laughed, a harsh, hollow sound. "That's what my mother said, too."
Yohji's eyes narrowed in a suspicious look. "I'm sorry. I guess I don't follow you. I thought your mother was dead."
Aya nodded, and, without ever turning to look at Yohji, said in a soft, slightly unsteady voice, "Yeah, but I had a dream before, when I was in the hospital and, then, even after I came home. Every time I found myself standing at that cliff Schuldich whispering for me to jump and I really, really want to do it. Then, I'm on a beach walking with Schuldich following me still telling me things and my mom is there, in front of me, like she was waiting for me. And, she waves her hand and Schuldich he just goes away, just like that just the way I want to make him go away, but I never can. And, she walks with me, and shows me things." Aya leaned his head against the stair rail and sighed in frustration, "Shit I I sound crazy. I'm I'm crazy. I don't even know why I'm telling you this."
Yohji knew that tone of voice all too well. He knew, if he leaned around Aya's shoulder, he would find the redhead was blushing furiously. Aya never was one to talk much, and, hardly ever about his feelings. Yohji knew how hard it was for his friend to open up like this, especially after backsliding into his old, anti-social, introspective ways, but he didn't want Aya to stop. He had a strong feeling that, if they were going to keep Aya from jumping off that cliff, the redhead really needed to finish saying this.
"You're not crazy, Aya. And, you're telling me this because we're friends. No judgments, no nothing. Nothing but friendship," Yohji said, softly, urging the younger man to continue.
Aya took a deep breath, steeling himself to tell the rest of his story. After gathering his thoughts for a few seconds, he said, so softly that Yohji had to lean forward to hear him, "The ocean it's so calm like a giant lake more than the sea, you know. And, we walk and talk. And, she's not happy with what I've done with my life, but she shows me things she points to the water, and I see faces, a lot of them, maybe hundreds, I don't know. I can recognize some of them people I've let go, like you said, or people I've helped, like Hank or his daughter and you guys are there, too. And, she tells me that this is where I find my redemption."
Yohji was quiet for several moments. Finally, he said, "What what do you think about that?"
Aya's only response was to give Yohji that one-shouldered shrug once more.
Before Yohji could pursue the subject further, sounds from the kitchen alerted him to the presence of their two absent teammates. He smiled slightly as he heard Omi rattling around in the kitchen after a coffee cup and Ken pounding down the stairs from their bedrooms on the floor above the kitchen and living room.
"Here they are!" Omi called out. "Ken, I found them; they're both out here, on the stairs!"
Within a few minutes, Omi and Ken crowded into the open door behind Yohji. The older blonde twisted around to grin at the younger Weiss members, both of whom held steaming cups of coffee. Omi grinned back at him, and Ken, whose hair was still rumpled from sleep, yawned and gave Yohji a small, half-hearted, little wave. The older man couldn't help but smile at them. While Omi was neatly dressed in Khaki pants and a red sweater, Ken was still wearing the sweatpants and rumpled, white t-shirt in which he normally slept.
"So, kids, what's up? Just get outta bed or what?" Yohji asked, a teasing grin on his face.
Aya never turned around to look at the new arrivals. Bubba whined a greeting, although he never left his spot by Aya's side.
Omi moved out to sit between Aya and Yohji, one step below the oldest assassin and one step above Aya. Ken followed him and plopped down on the same step as Yohji. He leaned heavily into the older blonde with a grunt, jostling Yohji's elbow and spilling hot coffee on his hand in the process.
"Hey!" Yohji protested. "Watch it, doofus! Just 'cause you're not awake yet doesn't mean the rest of us can forgive being scalded so damn early in the morning."
Ken just grinned, shrugged, and noisily slurped his coffee.
"I think Ken just got up," Omi said, his cheerful voice seeming to blend perfectly with the sounds of spring around them. "But, I've been up for hours. I was downstairs, in the mission room, surfing the Internet."
"Yeah," Yohji said, just a hint of a chuckle coloring his words, "Looking for porn, I'll bet."
"I was not!" Omi yelled indignantly, a deep, red blush coloring his face. "You're the only one who surfs for porn on our Kritiker computer, and you know it!"
Yohji shrugged and grinned at the younger blonde, but he didn't even try to deny it. Why bother? They all knew it was the truth.
"So?" Ken asked, "What are you guys doing out here?"
"Ah, nothing," Yohji replied, "Sitting, watching life."
"Hmmm," Ken said.
After a moment, Omi exclaimed, "Oh! I almost forgot! I'll be right back!"
He jumped up and quickly clambered over Ken, who had been sitting directly behind him. In a few moments, they heard the sound of his footsteps retreating through the kitchen and pounding up the stairs.
Yohji gave Ken a one-eyebrow-raised, suspicious look, "You let the kid eat too much sugar this morning?"
Ken shook his head. "No, but I bet I know exactly what he's gone in there to get."
"The camera," Yohji and Aya groaned, in unison.
They had all chipped in several days ago to buy a digital camera as a gift for Omi, and the boy had been driving them crazy with it ever since. He dragged it out and took photographs at the least little provocation, and his three teammates were starting to think purchasing the camera had been a serious mistake.
Within minutes, Omi emerged from the kitchen holding his camera and a tripod. He clambered over Ken, hitting the ex-goalie in the head with the tripod in the process, which earned a grunt of protest. Omi waved a quick apology, jumped over Bubba, and took the rest of the steps two at a time until he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He fiddled with the tripod for a few seconds, until he got it set at the correct height. Then, he quickly screwed the camera into place and set its automatic timer.
As he fiddled with the focus, he looked up and smiled at his friends, "Just just one quick picture." When the other three groaned in response, he stood up, placed his hands on his hips, and said, in an irritated voice, "Come on! It'll only take a second, and you're all already out here!" He gave them an innocent, angelic smile. Anyone seeing that smile would never believe the boy was a deadly assassin. After a few more seconds of fiddling with the knobs, he said, "All right, tighten up a bit."
He waved his hand in the air, to indicate that the rest of them should move in closer. At first, no one moved, but, after Omi gave them a sad, pouty look, they all moved in together, each of them rolling his eyes and groaning in protest. Yohji moved down to sit directly behind Aya and placed his arm around the redhead's neck, gently drawing him back so that Aya was leaning against his chest. Ken moved one step above and slightly to the right side of Yohji, and leaned over the older man's right shoulder. Even Bubba, as if he understood what was happening, got up to amble closer to Aya. The big dog clambered halfway into Aya's lap, as far as he could fit, and Aya chuckled and placed his hand on the dog's big, square head.
"OK!" Omi squeaked.
He pushed the button to start the timer and dashed into the picture, positioning himself on the step below Aya, right in front of the redhead. As the flash went off, both Omi and Yohji gave a "peace sign" signal by putting the first two fingers of their right hands into a "v" shape.
Once the photo was done, Omi jogged back to the bottom of the stairs, where he bent down and reviewed the results on the camera's video screen. Obviously pleased with what he saw, he smiled and waved at his friends before dismantling the camera and tripod set up.
"A good one!" he cried, enthusiastically.
As he started to take the camera off the tripod, he stopped, with a startled expression on his face, and pulled something out of his back pocket. "Oh! I I almost forgot! This came this morning. It's for you, Aya."
He walked forward and held a sealed envelope out to the redhead. Yohji, who was still sitting close to Aya, leaned over his friend's shoulder to see it. He saw Aya's name, and frowned when he recognized Manx's neat handwriting. Aya frowned, too, and, without a word, tore the envelope open. A single piece of paper, which had been folded in half, fell out. One line was printed on it: "Retirement options; Kritiker, 10:30 AM."
Aya glanced at his watch, frowning when he noticed it read: "9:30". He shoved Bubba off him as gently as he could, considering that he could only use his left arm. Once the dog had moved, he slowly pulled himself to his feet, using the hand rail for leverage, and carefully, almost clumsily, as if he was afraid he would fall, turned and started to head for the open kitchen doorway.
Yohji grabbed Aya's free wrist, and asked, "Where you going?"
Aya didn't look Yohji in the eye, but he replied, quietly, "I have to go."
The blonde refused to release his wrist, and Aya finally turned toward his friend, looking at Yohji with sad, tired blue-violet eyes.
"Yohji, please. I have to go."
Yohji shook his head, "No. She can come here, if she wants to talk. She can come here and do it with all of us present."
Aya sighed, "It's best for me to go alone, but, even if you were there, it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't keep Kritiker from doing anything they want to do. Stop worrying so much, Yohji."
"Like hell!" Yohji snapped. He stood up and tossed the remnants of his coffee over the side of the stair rail. "At the very least, I'm going with you."
"No, you're not," Aya argued as he attempted, without success, to shrug off Yohji's restraining hand.
The blonde tightened his grip on Aya's wrist. He could see a dark bruise discoloring Aya's skin, but he refused to let go. "And, how are you gonna get there? Take a bus? You can't drive with that shoulder like that, and, even if you could, you're still too weak and too hopped up on painkillers."
When it looked like Aya was still going to refuse, Yohji said, softly, "Come on, Aya. I'll just drive you there. I'll wait outside. Please." He knew he was begging, but he couldn't stand the thought of Aya going alone. Manx had assured him that he and Aya were both back in Kritiker, free and clear, but Yohji couldn't shake the feeling that, if Aya went to this meeting alone, they'd never see him again.
Aya looked away, and said, in a soft whisper of a voice, "They'll send a car. I'm sorry, Yohji. It it has to be this way."
He shook off the blonde's restraining hand, and slowly made his way back into the kitchen, as Yohji lit up his first cigarette of the day and angrily smoked it, cursing under his breath.
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The morning crowd in the flower shop was fairly light for a Saturday, which was just as well. None of them was much in the mood for working at their so-called "day jobs". Yohji had remained on the back steps for two hours after Aya's departure, chain smoking and cursing softly. Ken and Omi had opened up the shop, but the normal, jovial manner they normally had in dealing with the customers was noticeably absent. Several of their regulars commented that they hoped nothing serious was wrong, at which point Omi just smiled sadly, shook his head, and told them they were worried about a sick friend. After a couple of hours, Yohji finally came into the shop, but he didn't even try to help out with the customers. While Omi and Ken tried to occupy their minds with busy work --- straightening out the coolers, restocking the emptied flower buckets, or straightening the back supply room --- Yohji sat at the table near the cash register, smoking and silently staring into space.
Four hours after his departure for the meeting with Kritiker, Aya returned. He entered, unnoticed, through the front door, and paused, taking in the scene before him. The first wave of fan girls had, apparently, taken over the store. They crowded around Ken and Omi, jumping up and down and yelling to be heard over the voices of their companions, each one asking for this kind of flower, or that kind of flower, or what she should buy for a sick friend anything to get the two boys to notice them. Omi and Ken were doing their best to assist the girls and keep peace in the shop, but Aya could tell their hearts weren't in it. He'd never seen either of them look quite so dejected, and neither of them were listening to anything the girls said. It was as if they were moving in slow motion or on auto pilot. Although there were only about ten or fifteen girls in this group, a small gathering in comparison to the ones they had on school days, the noise level in the shop was loud enough to sound like at least a hundred clamoring, insistent, subtly whiney girls, all begging for attention at once. Aya could hardly hear himself think. Yohji sat at the table near the cash register, seemingly oblivious to the din. He stared off into space, and, even though he wore his sunglasses, there was no mistaking the dark, angry look on his face, which had been enough to ensure that no one approached him. He had, obviously, been chain smoking, as Aya could see three empty packs of cigarettes on the table in front of him.
Aya shook his head and quietly made his way, unnoticed by the school girls or his teammates, into the shop. He stopped in front of the table and waited for Yohji to notice him. When the tall blonde realized someone was standing in front of him, throwing a shadow across the table, he started to growl at them to move. When he realized it was Aya, the angry words died in his throat, and he stood up from the table, a relieved expression crossing his face and his eyes, which Aya could just barely see behind the dark lenses of his glasses. Omi and Ken saw Aya, too, and they, somehow, managed to break away from the group of fan girls without anyone noticing their absence.
The four assassins gathered around the table, and Aya threw something down onto it. It was an envelope. Yohji picked it up, and started to thumb through its contents, but without really noticing what they were.
"So?" the blonde asked in a hushed voice, "What what happened?"
Aya stared at the table top, and softly replied, adopting the same, hushed tone Yohji had used, to prevent anyone nearby from overhearing their conversation, "Kritiker has placed Weiss on indefinite leave. They offered to let me out, free and clear. I guess it was their way of apologizing for trying to retire me."
He turned to walk away, but his three friends stopped him.
"So?" Yohji asked.
"So, I said no," Aya replied.
"But, are you sure?" Ken asked. "I mean it's your one chance to have a life a normal life, without you know. They won't ever offer again."
Aya gave a half-hearted left shoulder shrug, wincing in pain as he did so. "If I wasn't here who would keep you guys out of trouble? I mean I'm gone one morning, and look at this place --- full of non-buying customers, and looking like a tornado hit it." He looked up to see his three friends watching him with anxious, worried expressions, and he smiled, one of his rare, shy smiles, "I'm sure. But, I did tell them a vacation would be nice. Someplace warm." He nodded toward the envelope in Yohji's hand, and said, "Hawaii."
Yohji frowned in confusion and took a closer look at the envelope's contents. There were, indeed, four tickets to Hawaii, four passports, and a sheet of paper confirming hotel reservations for a two week stay at a resort on Maui. "Hot damn," he muttered, grinning at Aya.
Aya grinned back, a genuine grin this time, and not a shy, half-hidden smile. The redhead turned and made his way toward the back room, obviously intending to retreat upstairs to their living quarters. He stopped at the doorway separating the shop's customer area from its supply room and turned to look at the crowd in the store.
"IF YOU'RE NOT BUYING ANYTHING, GET OUT!" he yelled, before ducking into the darkened supply room.
Yohji laughed at Aya's retreating figure. For the first time in quite a while, the blonde had the feeling everything was right with the world, all in place, just as it should be.