Fanfiction Archive: What It's Worth
May. 29th, 2009 12:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texchan(Written: August, 2008)
Warnings: Bad Language.
Summary: Sometimes, everyone feels like their life has hit a dead-end, and they have nothing to show for their efforts. No job is perfect, and that is doubly true for the Weiss boys. But friendship can often do the impossible: prove that even an assassin's life has meaning.
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: Written as a gift fic for Genuinelie, because I think she is an awesome writer and a wonderful friend. And, well … everyone needs cheering up sometime, right?
What It's Worth
(a WK giftfic for genuinelie by tex-chan)
Aya stumbled down the deserted street. He was the kind of person who liked getting from the proverbial Point A to Point B as quickly as possible. Yohji always picked on him for being a "fast walker"; whenever he and Aya walked anywhere, Yohji never failed to kid him about it, joking that he was going to have to give up smoking just so he could keep up with Aya's ground-eating stride. Aya couldn't help but laugh under his breath as he thought about what Yohji would say, if he could see him now -- plodding along like a man five times his age, head down and struggling for the energy to put one foot in front of the other.
It had been a long night. Aya wondered how many times he had had this very same thought since becoming Weiss. In one way or another, they were all long nights, and the best he could come up with was that tonight had been no exception to that rule. And, at the same time, tonight had been worse than usual in many ways.
He cursed under his breath as he remembered how Manx had described this job to him: "A piece of cake," she had said, rubbing her red-lacquered nails against the lapel of her jacket, buffing them to a high gloss. "So easy, in fact, that it's not worth getting everyone involved, which is why we're letting you handle it alone." She had tossed the file folder at him on her way out of the Koneko, waving a jaunty good-bye as she exited without looking back.
Even now, Aya was pissed about the exchange. Not worth getting the rest of the team involved -- that was Kritiker-speak for "hey, this mission sucks chunks, and no one else will do it." And, of course, they brought it to him, because he wouldn't say no. He couldn't; and Manx knew that. He would have preferred brutal honesty to the ridiculous charade that had played out over this mission. He already knew where he stood -- he just wanted to hear her say it. He wasn't sure why, but he was certain he would get a savage satisfaction out of hearing those words slide past her perfectly made-up lips.
And, as expected, the job had sucked. There had been exactly one way into the target's building: through the sewer. Then, he had had to deal with the three guard dogs that patrolled the building's oversized lobby every night. He had managed to elude two of them, but one had caught up with him, taking what felt like a sizeable chunk out of his favorite pair of work boots. He still felt bad over having to kill it, but he hadn't had a choice. It was one of those life-or-death moments, and the dog had been all over him. Still, Aya figured he would feel guilty about it for some time to come. It wasn't the same as taking out a dark beast; the dog was only doing its job, only doing what its masters told it to do -- just like him. Then, he had had to find a way up to the penthouse on the top floor, which meant hoofing it up forty eight flights of stairs because he couldn't exactly take the elevator. After all of that, he had entered the target's apartment only to find it empty. Kritiker's information on the man's schedule had been inaccurate, which meant Aya was going to have to repeat this whole, stupid mess all over again once Kritiker managed to iron out the problems with its intel. Besides, Aya was certain the dead guard dog would clue the target in to the danger on his life, putting him on edge and making the kill nearly impossible. It would take at least a month or two for the guy to become complacent again.
He sighed in relief as he reached the entrance to the alley behind the Koneko. Finally, there was an end in sight for this horrible night. He felt his spirits lift as he passed through the glow from the light on the corner of the building next to the Koneko and into the darkness beyond. It didn't last long. With every step closer to his destination, Aya found himself more and more reluctant to go inside. It was early -- a little past midnight -- so he figured Yohji would still be out. But Omi and Ken were home. As he reached the Koneko's back steps, he glanced up and saw lights burning in two windows above the flower shop, and he knew they were waiting up for him. They would have questions about the mission, and that was the last thing he wanted to talk about, because it would just piss him off all over again.
It was a hot night. Aya could feel himself sweating through the t-shirt he wore beneath his heavy leather trench. All that extra padding was great for his night job, but it was stifling during warm weather. He groaned as he shrugged out of the coat. He tossed it aside and sank down to sit on the bottom step, leaning against the stair rail for support. A slight breeze wafted down the alley, carrying with it the smell from the overstuffed garbage cans near the sidewalk. Even so, Aya turned into the wind, relishing the feeling of the air cooling his sweat-slick skin. He was tired and aching, but the breeze helped him feel a little refreshed. Not enough so that he could go inside and face Omi or Ken just yet, but enough so that he had hope, maybe, he could do it after sitting here for a while longer. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the banister, feeling the bite of chilly metal against the side of his face. He only intended to sit there for a few minutes, but he felt himself drifting off, unable to resist the pull of exhaustion.
******************************
"Hey."
Aya jerked awake at the sound of a voice so close by. For a second or two, he was disoriented. He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten here, and he did his best to swallow down the stomach-sinking feeling of panic and slow his run away heartbeat. He looked up, feeling almost stupidly relieved to find Yohji standing over him. Even in the alley's murky darkness, he could read the expression of worry in Yohji's eyes as Yohji leaned over him to take a closer look.
"You awake?" Yohji asked. When Aya nodded, running his hands over his face to dispel the sleep-induced fog hanging over his brain, Yohji continued, "You all right?"
Aya nodded again, prompting a scowl and an irritated grumble from Yohji as he sat down next to Aya. He was a little tipsy, and he almost fell before regaining his balance at the last second and depositing himself on the step with a muffled thump. It was obvious Yohji had been out with one of his many ladies; he smelled like musky cologne, stale perfume, booze, cigarette smoke, and sex -- the scents rolling off of him in waves, so familiar they made Aya ache inside. His unhappiness, his frustration, his feeling of being locked in a hopeless dead-end in his life -- all of it came bubbling to the surface, and that made Aya mad. Mad at himself and mad at Yohji, too. He had come so close to holding everything together, but the moment Yohji showed up everything went to hell and then some. Aya hated that, and he didn't understand it, either. Why? Why the hell did being around Yohji affect him this way? Why did he find Yohji's presence familiar and comforting, and yet, disconcerting, too? Why did he think of Yohji as being some kind of safe haven? No one meant that much to him. No one. Aya couldn't let that happen -- and yet, the feelings were there. No matter how much he tried to deny them. No matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise. No matter how much he acted like he didn't care. And, no matter how much he pushed everyone away. Hell, even Yohji knew better. The more Aya pushed, the more Yohji seemed to pull. Until it had come to this -- to the point where Aya couldn't imagine a world without Yohji in it, somehow. To the point where he didn't even want to think about it.
"What happened there?" Yohji asked, nudging Aya's damaged boot with his foot.
"Dog bit me," Aya said, wincing as a spike of pain shot up his leg from the injury beneath the mangled boot. He had thought it wasn't anything serious, but, now, it ached. It seemed the dog had taken a bigger bite than Aya had believed at first.
"Fuck. Dogs're the worst," Yohji said, shaking his head. He paused for a second or two before asking, "You had to kill it?"
Aya nodded, surprised to find he was unable to admit it out loud.
Yohji sighed in response, bumping Aya gently with his shoulder. "I'm sorry about that, man," he said. "That sucks. That really sucks."
They sat for a few minutes, the silence broken only by the rustle of paper as Yohji retrieved a bag from the step between them. He pulled the top of the bag down, exposing the opening of a bottle, before bringing it up to his mouth. He took a long drink, swallowing with a grimace and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Damn," he said, sniffing the air, "You smell like shit."
Aya couldn't help laughing as he nodded and replied, "Literally."
"What the fuck, Aya?" Yohji asked. "What were you doing tonight, anyhow?"
Aya shrugged, "Nothing. Just one of Manx's "piece of cake" missions. Entry through the sewer. Guard dogs in the building lobby. Forty eight flights of stairs."
"Doesn't sound like a piece of cake to me," Yohji said.
"That's kind of the point, right?" Aya asked in return. "And," he continued, "I'll have to do it all over again in a month or two."
"No shit?" Yohji asked.
"No shit," Aya said. "All that effort, and the target wasn't even there. Kritiker fucked me on the intel. And, I'll probably get in trouble for killing the damn dog because it'll alert the target that someone's got him in their sights."
"That sucks," Yohji commiserated.
"Everything about this fucking job sucks," Aya hissed, surprising himself with his sudden outburst. "We work our assess off for Kritiker. Give up our whole lives for this shit. For people trying to kill us on both sides of the equation. No one is ever happy with what we do -- not even us. And, for what? At the end of it all, there's nothing to show for it but a big, fucking dead end. The brick wall at the end of forever."
"So what?" Yohji asked, trying to joke Aya out of his black mood, "What're you going to do? Go out and get a real job? Maybe deliver pizza or some shit like that?"
"Fuck it," Aya said, refusing to be consoled, "Right now, delivering pizza sounds pretty damn good. I could do that."
Yohji laughed. "Bullshit," he said, "You have to be nice to do that job."
"I could be nice," Aya said.
"Yeah, right. Just like I could be celibate," Yohji replied, still laughing. "Besides, you've got a lousy sense of direction. We both know it. You'd get fired within about ten minutes."
Aya sighed. He knew Yohji was trying to cheer him up, and, normally, Aya would have let him do it. But not tonight. Tonight, there was too much of the world weighing down on his shoulders.
"There's really no way out, is there?" Aya asked, his voice so soft it almost didn't carry across the few inches separating him from Yohji. "No way out but feet first and under six feet of dirt -- marked or unmarked. I guess I just thought things would be different. That I would have something to show for my life."
Yohji frowned. He didn't like it when Aya turned fatalistic like this. It inevitably led to Aya doing something stupid, and Yohji didn't want to deal with that kind of drama. And, much as he hated to admit it, he was worried about Aya. Probably more worried than he should be.
"Come on, that's not true," Yohji said. "You've got stuff to show for your life."
"Yeah? So, what, then? What do I have?" Aya challenged.
Yohji sighed as he tried to think of something that would console Aya. Something that would jog him out of this deep black funk into which he had fallen. And he cursed under his breath as he came up short. The truth of it was that their situation wasn't all that great. They all knew it, even though they did their best to pretend otherwise -- to pretend they lived normal lives.
Yohji shrugged and passed the bottle over to Aya.
"You've got this -- best tequila in Tokyo. I'll even let you eat the worm this time," Yohji said, leaning in close to breathe the words against the skin of Aya's neck, just below his ear.
Aya shivered and pushed Yohji away. He couldn't help laughing at the other man's suggestive joke. "Yeah, right," he said, taking the bottle, "You wish I would eat the worm."
Yohji laughed in return, glad to hear how Aya's voice seemed to lighten, just a little. "Well, a guy can dream, can't he?" He paused for a moment -- a heartbeat, maybe two -- before he said, "And, hey, you've got me. For what it's worth."
Aya shrugged. "For what it's worth," he replied, careful to keep his tone of voice flat and even, as if he couldn't care less.
But he leaned against Yohji, allowing himself to relax and feel safe in his friend's company. Yohji shifted around, giving Aya those few additional inches of space that would allow him to sit comfortably. Aya took a drink, using the gesture to hide his smile. For what it was worth. Aya figured he would take that -- any day.
~End
Warnings: Bad Language.
Summary: Sometimes, everyone feels like their life has hit a dead-end, and they have nothing to show for their efforts. No job is perfect, and that is doubly true for the Weiss boys. But friendship can often do the impossible: prove that even an assassin's life has meaning.
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: Written as a gift fic for Genuinelie, because I think she is an awesome writer and a wonderful friend. And, well … everyone needs cheering up sometime, right?
Aya stumbled down the deserted street. He was the kind of person who liked getting from the proverbial Point A to Point B as quickly as possible. Yohji always picked on him for being a "fast walker"; whenever he and Aya walked anywhere, Yohji never failed to kid him about it, joking that he was going to have to give up smoking just so he could keep up with Aya's ground-eating stride. Aya couldn't help but laugh under his breath as he thought about what Yohji would say, if he could see him now -- plodding along like a man five times his age, head down and struggling for the energy to put one foot in front of the other.
It had been a long night. Aya wondered how many times he had had this very same thought since becoming Weiss. In one way or another, they were all long nights, and the best he could come up with was that tonight had been no exception to that rule. And, at the same time, tonight had been worse than usual in many ways.
He cursed under his breath as he remembered how Manx had described this job to him: "A piece of cake," she had said, rubbing her red-lacquered nails against the lapel of her jacket, buffing them to a high gloss. "So easy, in fact, that it's not worth getting everyone involved, which is why we're letting you handle it alone." She had tossed the file folder at him on her way out of the Koneko, waving a jaunty good-bye as she exited without looking back.
Even now, Aya was pissed about the exchange. Not worth getting the rest of the team involved -- that was Kritiker-speak for "hey, this mission sucks chunks, and no one else will do it." And, of course, they brought it to him, because he wouldn't say no. He couldn't; and Manx knew that. He would have preferred brutal honesty to the ridiculous charade that had played out over this mission. He already knew where he stood -- he just wanted to hear her say it. He wasn't sure why, but he was certain he would get a savage satisfaction out of hearing those words slide past her perfectly made-up lips.
And, as expected, the job had sucked. There had been exactly one way into the target's building: through the sewer. Then, he had had to deal with the three guard dogs that patrolled the building's oversized lobby every night. He had managed to elude two of them, but one had caught up with him, taking what felt like a sizeable chunk out of his favorite pair of work boots. He still felt bad over having to kill it, but he hadn't had a choice. It was one of those life-or-death moments, and the dog had been all over him. Still, Aya figured he would feel guilty about it for some time to come. It wasn't the same as taking out a dark beast; the dog was only doing its job, only doing what its masters told it to do -- just like him. Then, he had had to find a way up to the penthouse on the top floor, which meant hoofing it up forty eight flights of stairs because he couldn't exactly take the elevator. After all of that, he had entered the target's apartment only to find it empty. Kritiker's information on the man's schedule had been inaccurate, which meant Aya was going to have to repeat this whole, stupid mess all over again once Kritiker managed to iron out the problems with its intel. Besides, Aya was certain the dead guard dog would clue the target in to the danger on his life, putting him on edge and making the kill nearly impossible. It would take at least a month or two for the guy to become complacent again.
He sighed in relief as he reached the entrance to the alley behind the Koneko. Finally, there was an end in sight for this horrible night. He felt his spirits lift as he passed through the glow from the light on the corner of the building next to the Koneko and into the darkness beyond. It didn't last long. With every step closer to his destination, Aya found himself more and more reluctant to go inside. It was early -- a little past midnight -- so he figured Yohji would still be out. But Omi and Ken were home. As he reached the Koneko's back steps, he glanced up and saw lights burning in two windows above the flower shop, and he knew they were waiting up for him. They would have questions about the mission, and that was the last thing he wanted to talk about, because it would just piss him off all over again.
It was a hot night. Aya could feel himself sweating through the t-shirt he wore beneath his heavy leather trench. All that extra padding was great for his night job, but it was stifling during warm weather. He groaned as he shrugged out of the coat. He tossed it aside and sank down to sit on the bottom step, leaning against the stair rail for support. A slight breeze wafted down the alley, carrying with it the smell from the overstuffed garbage cans near the sidewalk. Even so, Aya turned into the wind, relishing the feeling of the air cooling his sweat-slick skin. He was tired and aching, but the breeze helped him feel a little refreshed. Not enough so that he could go inside and face Omi or Ken just yet, but enough so that he had hope, maybe, he could do it after sitting here for a while longer. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the banister, feeling the bite of chilly metal against the side of his face. He only intended to sit there for a few minutes, but he felt himself drifting off, unable to resist the pull of exhaustion.
******************************
"Hey."
Aya jerked awake at the sound of a voice so close by. For a second or two, he was disoriented. He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten here, and he did his best to swallow down the stomach-sinking feeling of panic and slow his run away heartbeat. He looked up, feeling almost stupidly relieved to find Yohji standing over him. Even in the alley's murky darkness, he could read the expression of worry in Yohji's eyes as Yohji leaned over him to take a closer look.
"You awake?" Yohji asked. When Aya nodded, running his hands over his face to dispel the sleep-induced fog hanging over his brain, Yohji continued, "You all right?"
Aya nodded again, prompting a scowl and an irritated grumble from Yohji as he sat down next to Aya. He was a little tipsy, and he almost fell before regaining his balance at the last second and depositing himself on the step with a muffled thump. It was obvious Yohji had been out with one of his many ladies; he smelled like musky cologne, stale perfume, booze, cigarette smoke, and sex -- the scents rolling off of him in waves, so familiar they made Aya ache inside. His unhappiness, his frustration, his feeling of being locked in a hopeless dead-end in his life -- all of it came bubbling to the surface, and that made Aya mad. Mad at himself and mad at Yohji, too. He had come so close to holding everything together, but the moment Yohji showed up everything went to hell and then some. Aya hated that, and he didn't understand it, either. Why? Why the hell did being around Yohji affect him this way? Why did he find Yohji's presence familiar and comforting, and yet, disconcerting, too? Why did he think of Yohji as being some kind of safe haven? No one meant that much to him. No one. Aya couldn't let that happen -- and yet, the feelings were there. No matter how much he tried to deny them. No matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise. No matter how much he acted like he didn't care. And, no matter how much he pushed everyone away. Hell, even Yohji knew better. The more Aya pushed, the more Yohji seemed to pull. Until it had come to this -- to the point where Aya couldn't imagine a world without Yohji in it, somehow. To the point where he didn't even want to think about it.
"What happened there?" Yohji asked, nudging Aya's damaged boot with his foot.
"Dog bit me," Aya said, wincing as a spike of pain shot up his leg from the injury beneath the mangled boot. He had thought it wasn't anything serious, but, now, it ached. It seemed the dog had taken a bigger bite than Aya had believed at first.
"Fuck. Dogs're the worst," Yohji said, shaking his head. He paused for a second or two before asking, "You had to kill it?"
Aya nodded, surprised to find he was unable to admit it out loud.
Yohji sighed in response, bumping Aya gently with his shoulder. "I'm sorry about that, man," he said. "That sucks. That really sucks."
They sat for a few minutes, the silence broken only by the rustle of paper as Yohji retrieved a bag from the step between them. He pulled the top of the bag down, exposing the opening of a bottle, before bringing it up to his mouth. He took a long drink, swallowing with a grimace and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Damn," he said, sniffing the air, "You smell like shit."
Aya couldn't help laughing as he nodded and replied, "Literally."
"What the fuck, Aya?" Yohji asked. "What were you doing tonight, anyhow?"
Aya shrugged, "Nothing. Just one of Manx's "piece of cake" missions. Entry through the sewer. Guard dogs in the building lobby. Forty eight flights of stairs."
"Doesn't sound like a piece of cake to me," Yohji said.
"That's kind of the point, right?" Aya asked in return. "And," he continued, "I'll have to do it all over again in a month or two."
"No shit?" Yohji asked.
"No shit," Aya said. "All that effort, and the target wasn't even there. Kritiker fucked me on the intel. And, I'll probably get in trouble for killing the damn dog because it'll alert the target that someone's got him in their sights."
"That sucks," Yohji commiserated.
"Everything about this fucking job sucks," Aya hissed, surprising himself with his sudden outburst. "We work our assess off for Kritiker. Give up our whole lives for this shit. For people trying to kill us on both sides of the equation. No one is ever happy with what we do -- not even us. And, for what? At the end of it all, there's nothing to show for it but a big, fucking dead end. The brick wall at the end of forever."
"So what?" Yohji asked, trying to joke Aya out of his black mood, "What're you going to do? Go out and get a real job? Maybe deliver pizza or some shit like that?"
"Fuck it," Aya said, refusing to be consoled, "Right now, delivering pizza sounds pretty damn good. I could do that."
Yohji laughed. "Bullshit," he said, "You have to be nice to do that job."
"I could be nice," Aya said.
"Yeah, right. Just like I could be celibate," Yohji replied, still laughing. "Besides, you've got a lousy sense of direction. We both know it. You'd get fired within about ten minutes."
Aya sighed. He knew Yohji was trying to cheer him up, and, normally, Aya would have let him do it. But not tonight. Tonight, there was too much of the world weighing down on his shoulders.
"There's really no way out, is there?" Aya asked, his voice so soft it almost didn't carry across the few inches separating him from Yohji. "No way out but feet first and under six feet of dirt -- marked or unmarked. I guess I just thought things would be different. That I would have something to show for my life."
Yohji frowned. He didn't like it when Aya turned fatalistic like this. It inevitably led to Aya doing something stupid, and Yohji didn't want to deal with that kind of drama. And, much as he hated to admit it, he was worried about Aya. Probably more worried than he should be.
"Come on, that's not true," Yohji said. "You've got stuff to show for your life."
"Yeah? So, what, then? What do I have?" Aya challenged.
Yohji sighed as he tried to think of something that would console Aya. Something that would jog him out of this deep black funk into which he had fallen. And he cursed under his breath as he came up short. The truth of it was that their situation wasn't all that great. They all knew it, even though they did their best to pretend otherwise -- to pretend they lived normal lives.
Yohji shrugged and passed the bottle over to Aya.
"You've got this -- best tequila in Tokyo. I'll even let you eat the worm this time," Yohji said, leaning in close to breathe the words against the skin of Aya's neck, just below his ear.
Aya shivered and pushed Yohji away. He couldn't help laughing at the other man's suggestive joke. "Yeah, right," he said, taking the bottle, "You wish I would eat the worm."
Yohji laughed in return, glad to hear how Aya's voice seemed to lighten, just a little. "Well, a guy can dream, can't he?" He paused for a moment -- a heartbeat, maybe two -- before he said, "And, hey, you've got me. For what it's worth."
Aya shrugged. "For what it's worth," he replied, careful to keep his tone of voice flat and even, as if he couldn't care less.
But he leaned against Yohji, allowing himself to relax and feel safe in his friend's company. Yohji shifted around, giving Aya those few additional inches of space that would allow him to sit comfortably. Aya took a drink, using the gesture to hide his smile. For what it was worth. Aya figured he would take that -- any day.
~End