Fic Archive: Nowhere Man, 11
May. 28th, 2009 01:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texchan(Written: 2004)
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence
Summary: A simple, in-and-out mission goes bad for Aya when Yohji fails to back him up. Now our favorite playboy is forced to go hunting for a missing teammate, and, in the process, help Aya find something he had thought lost forever -- friendship and a place to belong.
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 #1 in a trilogy. Story #2: Betrayal. Story #3: Redemption
Nowhere Man
Chapter 11
"YOHJI! YOHJI! WAKE UP! HE'S GONE!"
Omi's voice screeched into Yohji's head and hammered against his skull. Yohji groaned and opened one eye to stare up at Aya's ceiling. The day had dawned, and the early morning light was slanting through the crack at the bottom of the closed blinds. It made the ceiling look so unbearably white that it actually hurt his eyes to look at it. He felt like he had just dropped into an uncomfortable, restless sleep moments before, and he didn't want to do anything except hang his head back over the back of this damn chair and go to sleep for about a hundred years. But, the screechy, panicked tone in Omi's voice and the hand shaking him by the shoulder wouldn't allow it. Yohji rolled his eye back up toward the impossibly white ceiling and then turned it slowly toward Omi, who was staring down at him and dancing nervously from foot to foot.
"What … what are you chattering about?" he asked. His voice sounded as groggy as his head felt. He put his hand over Omi's and said, "Stop … stop with the shaking, OK? You're making me sick."
"Sorry," Omi said quietly, but, to Yohji's satisfaction, he stopped shaking him. "He's gone," the boy repeated in a quieter tone.
"Who?" Yohji asked.
Omi sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, as if it would tell him why Yohji was so stupid. "AYA!" he screeched again, when Yohji still didn't catch on quickly enough. "AYA IS GONE!"
Suddenly, Yohji was completely and irrevocably awake. He jumped out of the chair, succeeding in tangling himself up in the blanket Aya had draped over him, and he fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He absently wondered where this damn blanket had come from, and groaned as he finally managed to kick free of the mess inhibiting his movements. Once he was loose, he fumbled around on the floor for a moment, feeling for his sunglasses, which had fallen off of his face when he fell. He replaced them, as if they would somehow improve his vision, and then peered over the rims at the empty bed.
"What the fuck?" he asked absently as he sat, cross-legged, on the floor and scratched his head. He looked over at Omi and asked, "Downstairs?" He frowned when Omi silently shook his head in response. "Ken?" Yohji asked, receiving only another head shake.
Yohji sighed heavily and stared at the bed for a few minutes, silently pondering over where their leader might be. Aya's fever had finally broken late last night, but the redhead was still pretty sick. He didn't think Aya could really get very far in his condition, but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out where that stubborn little shit might have gone.
"You check the roof?" he asked, looking back toward his younger companion.
"Yes!" Omi practically shouted. "Yes! I checked the roof. I checked downstairs. Ken's still sleeping, and he's not anywhere around here." He stomped his foot and began his nervous dance again when Yohji only stared absently at him. "He's still sick!" he screeched, making Yohji wince.
"What did you just say?" Yohji asked as a thought began to form in his sleep-muddled mind.
"I said he's nowhere!" Omi yelled back.
Omi's casual phrase seemed to cement Yohji's thought. He stood up and patted the boy gently on the head, earning an irritated glare and swat at his hand from the younger blonde. "It'll be OK, kid," he said as he moved toward the door. "I think I know where he is, but you stay here in case I don't find him. Ken, too." He paused at the door and looked back toward the boy. "I mean it. Don't you guys come looking for him." He waited for Omi to nod his agreement and then left the room.
************************************************************
Aya had to change buses twice to get across town. He had forgotten to check on what day it was before he left the flower shop, but the bus was crowded with kids in school uniforms and men in business suits, which made him conclude it must be a week day. About ten minutes into the second bus ride, he gave up his seat to a pregnant woman who was carrying some large shopping bags. She smiled her thanks to him and slid heavily into the seat as he moved behind her to grab the overhead hand rail. Almost as soon as she sat down, she pulled a newspaper from one of her bags and opened it to the front page. Although her hand obscured the date, he managed to lean over her shoulder long enough to read the day --- Monday --- which surprised him. He vaguely recalled that his last mission had been scheduled to take place on a Friday. He didn't know how long he had been down, but he had a distinct feeling it was a lot longer than a couple of days. Aya frowned and absently wondered exactly how long he had been sick. He thought about it for a few minutes, and then decided he'd have to break down and ask Yohji, no matter how painful it was to admit his lack of knowledge to his irritating teammate. He didn't exactly know why, but he was sure Yohji would know, and he had no doubt that the older man would take immense pleasure in telling him. The tall blonde always seemed to love it when he knew something that others didn't.
By the time he reached his stop, Aya was exhausted from standing and trying to keep his balance on the swaying bus. The fact that he couldn't seem to shake the dizziness that insisted on following him around like a lost puppy or the little black spots that seemed determined to float at the edges of his vision didn't really help matters all that much. As he stepped off of the bus, a small gust of wind hit him, and he shivered. It felt like cold knives cutting right through his body, and he pulled his jacket a little closer to seek some extra warmth. It was only early fall, but it was still pretty chilly, and, by the time he had walked a block, Aya was beginning to wish he had worn a heavier coat. He slid to a sitting position on the sidewalk, leaning back against a sunny spot on one of the buildings, to rest for a while and get his bearings. He thought the alley he wanted was in this direction, but it had been dark and pouring down rain the last time he was here. Everything looked really different now in the sunny light of day, and he felt like he needed to look around a bit to make sure he was in the right place. Just when he was beginning to be sure he had gotten off at the wrong stop, he thought he recognized a store sign a little further down the street, and he stood up to get a better look at it, shading his eyes and squinting into the sun. After a few minutes, he was finally able to discern the sign's shape --- a blue hippo wearing a pink tutu and ballerina slippers. He wasn't sure what kind of store would have a sign like that, but he remembered leaning against it to rest when he was trying to escape the police after the mission.
'Yep,' he thought as he gathered up the bag containing the items he had gathered earlier that morning and started to walk toward the alley marked by the sign, 'You just don't forget leaning against a giant hippo in a tutu.'
Within a few minutes, he stood in front of the alley entrance next to the big ballerina hippo, which, oddly enough, turned out to be a sign for a children's clothing store. Aya stared at the sign briefly and absently wondered why otherwise-normal people would dress their children in something that came from a store represented by a giant dancing hippo. It just didn't seem right, and it was so damn cute that it actually made him sick to his stomach. He was pretty sure he wouldn't live long enough to have kids of his own, but, if he did, he swore he would make it a point to steer clear of stores like this one, especially if they had big, dancing animals as mascots. Okay, well, dancing bears might be all right, but hippos or elephants --- never.
'OK, Ran, let go of the hippo,' he told himself as he dragged his mind away from its wanderings and back to the task at hand. He peered into the long alley, which was dark at the far end, despite the early morning sun that poured down onto the street and sidewalk. 'Yeah,' he thought, 'This is definitely the place. It looks the same, even now.'
He stepped into the alley, and quickly crossed the sunny spot at its mouth to enter the shadows. The back doors of several businesses opened onto the alley, where the proprietors put their garbage and empty boxes, and he thought he remembered the doorway that had served as his shelter that night being about halfway down its length. He wasn't sure about it, but he hoped he would be able to find the homeless man, whose jacket he had stolen that night, at their original meeting place. Just to make sure he didn't accidentally pass up the doorway he wanted, Aya paused at each portal leading from a store out into the alley. He saw homeless people sleeping or sitting in several doorways, but none of them looked like the man he remembered from that night. He continued slowly, looking in a doorway to the left side of the alley and then one to the right side, until he reached a doorjamb about halfway down that had a vaguely familiar look about it. He stopped in front of it and stared into the doorway's deeper shadows for a moment, until a shape seemed to materialize.
There was a man sleeping there. He was sitting, slumped against the right side of the doorframe, with his back to the door behind him, and he was snoring softly. His pale skin barely showed through the dirt covering it, although he didn't look quite as dirty as Aya remembered him. He had a thin, scraggly, brown beard and long, greasy, brown hair. He was wearing a pair of filthy pants, which looked like they might have once been Khaki dungarees, and a grubby t-shirt that looked like it had been white, or, maybe, light blue in another lifetime. Despite the chilly air in the alley's shadows, Aya noted, with a slight twinge of guilt, that the man wasn't wearing a coat. He squinted and tried to imagine the man in the dark and pouring rain, as if that fuzzy memory would tell him whether he had the right person or not. He hadn't realized that he'd been standing there staring at the man for very long, but he suddenly became aware of two piercing brown-gold eyes glaring back at him.
"What do you want?" the man asked, still glaring at him. "There's nothing here for the taking." The man continued to stare hostilely at Aya, who stood in the alley and quietly stared back at him, until, finally he said, "Hey … wait a minute. I … I know you. You're the fucker who stole my coat!"
Aya shrugged, now that he had confirmation of the man's identity, and replied, "Yeah." He gestured toward the empty step beside the man and asked, "Do you mind?"
The man shrugged in response, and Aya, interpreting the gesture as permission, sat down, placing the shopping bag he carried in between them.
The homeless man stared at Aya for a long time, and the redhead squirmed under his piercing gaze. Finally, the man said, "So? Come back here to make fun of the bum?"
Aya shook his head. "No," he said quietly, pushing the shopping bag toward the man sitting beside him. "Actually, I came to apologize for … taking your coat. And … um … well, I thought these might make up for it somewhat."
The guy gave Aya a confused look and slowly reached for the shopping bag. He hesitantly reached into it, as if he was expecting some sort of booby trap, and pulled out the shirts. He shook his head, and reached into the bag again to pull out the pants, followed by a jacket, socks, and, finally, a pair of shoes.
"What the hell?" he asked, staring at Aya over the top of the bag. He quickly shoved the clothing back into the sack and asked, "What kind of stunt are you trying to pull, kid? These are nice clothes. They stolen?"
"No!" Aya exclaimed, genuinely shocked. "They … they're just some of my old clothes. I figured we were about the same size … you know … from the coat. I just thought that, maybe you could use them, and … um … I … uh, well, I just wanted to say I was sorry for leaving you without a coat and all."
Aya jumped when the guy laughed. "You clean up pretty good, kid," he said. He paused for a few moments, watching Aya squirm uncomfortably, and then said, "Seems you're not really used to apologizing to people, huh?" He laughed again at the shocked, wide-eyed look Aya gave him. "Don't worry, boy. I'm not a mind reader. It's written all over your face. I don't think I've ever seen anyone turn that exact shade of red before." He extended his hand over the shopping bag and said, "My name's Hank."
Aya paused, unsure of how to respond to the unfamiliar, foreign gesture of greeting. Finally, he hesitantly took the man's outstretched hand and clasped it in a firm handshake. "Ran," he muttered, looking down at the ground at his feet in embarrassment. "My name's Ran."
"Well, pleased to meet 'ya, Ran," Hank said as he gave Aya's hand a firm shake. He chuckled again at the redhead's obvious discomfort with the gesture and personal contact, and then turned to root through the bag as he commented, "Don't meet too many nice people out here, you know." He paused as he felt something at the bottom of the bag that didn't feel like clothing. "Hey!" he called out triumphantly as he pulled the bottle of scotch and package of cigarettes out of the bag. "Wow! Smokes!" He held the bottle up to the light so that he could read its label. "Hey, this is premium hooch, too!"
"Hooch?" Aya asked, repeating the unfamiliar English word and raising his eyebrow in a questioning gesture.
Hank nodded and laughed as he uncapped the bottle, "Yeah. You know … booze, liquor." He took a drink and then held the bottle out to Aya. "Want some?"
Aya stared at the bottle for a moment. He wasn't used to associating with people so closely, and he was a bit unsure of what he should do. After Hank gave him an encouraging smile, he shrugged, took the bottle from his companion, and silently took a large drink.
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence
Summary: A simple, in-and-out mission goes bad for Aya when Yohji fails to back him up. Now our favorite playboy is forced to go hunting for a missing teammate, and, in the process, help Aya find something he had thought lost forever -- friendship and a place to belong.
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 #1 in a trilogy. Story #2: Betrayal. Story #3: Redemption
Chapter 11
"YOHJI! YOHJI! WAKE UP! HE'S GONE!"
Omi's voice screeched into Yohji's head and hammered against his skull. Yohji groaned and opened one eye to stare up at Aya's ceiling. The day had dawned, and the early morning light was slanting through the crack at the bottom of the closed blinds. It made the ceiling look so unbearably white that it actually hurt his eyes to look at it. He felt like he had just dropped into an uncomfortable, restless sleep moments before, and he didn't want to do anything except hang his head back over the back of this damn chair and go to sleep for about a hundred years. But, the screechy, panicked tone in Omi's voice and the hand shaking him by the shoulder wouldn't allow it. Yohji rolled his eye back up toward the impossibly white ceiling and then turned it slowly toward Omi, who was staring down at him and dancing nervously from foot to foot.
"What … what are you chattering about?" he asked. His voice sounded as groggy as his head felt. He put his hand over Omi's and said, "Stop … stop with the shaking, OK? You're making me sick."
"Sorry," Omi said quietly, but, to Yohji's satisfaction, he stopped shaking him. "He's gone," the boy repeated in a quieter tone.
"Who?" Yohji asked.
Omi sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, as if it would tell him why Yohji was so stupid. "AYA!" he screeched again, when Yohji still didn't catch on quickly enough. "AYA IS GONE!"
Suddenly, Yohji was completely and irrevocably awake. He jumped out of the chair, succeeding in tangling himself up in the blanket Aya had draped over him, and he fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He absently wondered where this damn blanket had come from, and groaned as he finally managed to kick free of the mess inhibiting his movements. Once he was loose, he fumbled around on the floor for a moment, feeling for his sunglasses, which had fallen off of his face when he fell. He replaced them, as if they would somehow improve his vision, and then peered over the rims at the empty bed.
"What the fuck?" he asked absently as he sat, cross-legged, on the floor and scratched his head. He looked over at Omi and asked, "Downstairs?" He frowned when Omi silently shook his head in response. "Ken?" Yohji asked, receiving only another head shake.
Yohji sighed heavily and stared at the bed for a few minutes, silently pondering over where their leader might be. Aya's fever had finally broken late last night, but the redhead was still pretty sick. He didn't think Aya could really get very far in his condition, but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out where that stubborn little shit might have gone.
"You check the roof?" he asked, looking back toward his younger companion.
"Yes!" Omi practically shouted. "Yes! I checked the roof. I checked downstairs. Ken's still sleeping, and he's not anywhere around here." He stomped his foot and began his nervous dance again when Yohji only stared absently at him. "He's still sick!" he screeched, making Yohji wince.
"What did you just say?" Yohji asked as a thought began to form in his sleep-muddled mind.
"I said he's nowhere!" Omi yelled back.
Omi's casual phrase seemed to cement Yohji's thought. He stood up and patted the boy gently on the head, earning an irritated glare and swat at his hand from the younger blonde. "It'll be OK, kid," he said as he moved toward the door. "I think I know where he is, but you stay here in case I don't find him. Ken, too." He paused at the door and looked back toward the boy. "I mean it. Don't you guys come looking for him." He waited for Omi to nod his agreement and then left the room.
************************************************************
Aya had to change buses twice to get across town. He had forgotten to check on what day it was before he left the flower shop, but the bus was crowded with kids in school uniforms and men in business suits, which made him conclude it must be a week day. About ten minutes into the second bus ride, he gave up his seat to a pregnant woman who was carrying some large shopping bags. She smiled her thanks to him and slid heavily into the seat as he moved behind her to grab the overhead hand rail. Almost as soon as she sat down, she pulled a newspaper from one of her bags and opened it to the front page. Although her hand obscured the date, he managed to lean over her shoulder long enough to read the day --- Monday --- which surprised him. He vaguely recalled that his last mission had been scheduled to take place on a Friday. He didn't know how long he had been down, but he had a distinct feeling it was a lot longer than a couple of days. Aya frowned and absently wondered exactly how long he had been sick. He thought about it for a few minutes, and then decided he'd have to break down and ask Yohji, no matter how painful it was to admit his lack of knowledge to his irritating teammate. He didn't exactly know why, but he was sure Yohji would know, and he had no doubt that the older man would take immense pleasure in telling him. The tall blonde always seemed to love it when he knew something that others didn't.
By the time he reached his stop, Aya was exhausted from standing and trying to keep his balance on the swaying bus. The fact that he couldn't seem to shake the dizziness that insisted on following him around like a lost puppy or the little black spots that seemed determined to float at the edges of his vision didn't really help matters all that much. As he stepped off of the bus, a small gust of wind hit him, and he shivered. It felt like cold knives cutting right through his body, and he pulled his jacket a little closer to seek some extra warmth. It was only early fall, but it was still pretty chilly, and, by the time he had walked a block, Aya was beginning to wish he had worn a heavier coat. He slid to a sitting position on the sidewalk, leaning back against a sunny spot on one of the buildings, to rest for a while and get his bearings. He thought the alley he wanted was in this direction, but it had been dark and pouring down rain the last time he was here. Everything looked really different now in the sunny light of day, and he felt like he needed to look around a bit to make sure he was in the right place. Just when he was beginning to be sure he had gotten off at the wrong stop, he thought he recognized a store sign a little further down the street, and he stood up to get a better look at it, shading his eyes and squinting into the sun. After a few minutes, he was finally able to discern the sign's shape --- a blue hippo wearing a pink tutu and ballerina slippers. He wasn't sure what kind of store would have a sign like that, but he remembered leaning against it to rest when he was trying to escape the police after the mission.
'Yep,' he thought as he gathered up the bag containing the items he had gathered earlier that morning and started to walk toward the alley marked by the sign, 'You just don't forget leaning against a giant hippo in a tutu.'
Within a few minutes, he stood in front of the alley entrance next to the big ballerina hippo, which, oddly enough, turned out to be a sign for a children's clothing store. Aya stared at the sign briefly and absently wondered why otherwise-normal people would dress their children in something that came from a store represented by a giant dancing hippo. It just didn't seem right, and it was so damn cute that it actually made him sick to his stomach. He was pretty sure he wouldn't live long enough to have kids of his own, but, if he did, he swore he would make it a point to steer clear of stores like this one, especially if they had big, dancing animals as mascots. Okay, well, dancing bears might be all right, but hippos or elephants --- never.
'OK, Ran, let go of the hippo,' he told himself as he dragged his mind away from its wanderings and back to the task at hand. He peered into the long alley, which was dark at the far end, despite the early morning sun that poured down onto the street and sidewalk. 'Yeah,' he thought, 'This is definitely the place. It looks the same, even now.'
He stepped into the alley, and quickly crossed the sunny spot at its mouth to enter the shadows. The back doors of several businesses opened onto the alley, where the proprietors put their garbage and empty boxes, and he thought he remembered the doorway that had served as his shelter that night being about halfway down its length. He wasn't sure about it, but he hoped he would be able to find the homeless man, whose jacket he had stolen that night, at their original meeting place. Just to make sure he didn't accidentally pass up the doorway he wanted, Aya paused at each portal leading from a store out into the alley. He saw homeless people sleeping or sitting in several doorways, but none of them looked like the man he remembered from that night. He continued slowly, looking in a doorway to the left side of the alley and then one to the right side, until he reached a doorjamb about halfway down that had a vaguely familiar look about it. He stopped in front of it and stared into the doorway's deeper shadows for a moment, until a shape seemed to materialize.
There was a man sleeping there. He was sitting, slumped against the right side of the doorframe, with his back to the door behind him, and he was snoring softly. His pale skin barely showed through the dirt covering it, although he didn't look quite as dirty as Aya remembered him. He had a thin, scraggly, brown beard and long, greasy, brown hair. He was wearing a pair of filthy pants, which looked like they might have once been Khaki dungarees, and a grubby t-shirt that looked like it had been white, or, maybe, light blue in another lifetime. Despite the chilly air in the alley's shadows, Aya noted, with a slight twinge of guilt, that the man wasn't wearing a coat. He squinted and tried to imagine the man in the dark and pouring rain, as if that fuzzy memory would tell him whether he had the right person or not. He hadn't realized that he'd been standing there staring at the man for very long, but he suddenly became aware of two piercing brown-gold eyes glaring back at him.
"What do you want?" the man asked, still glaring at him. "There's nothing here for the taking." The man continued to stare hostilely at Aya, who stood in the alley and quietly stared back at him, until, finally he said, "Hey … wait a minute. I … I know you. You're the fucker who stole my coat!"
Aya shrugged, now that he had confirmation of the man's identity, and replied, "Yeah." He gestured toward the empty step beside the man and asked, "Do you mind?"
The man shrugged in response, and Aya, interpreting the gesture as permission, sat down, placing the shopping bag he carried in between them.
The homeless man stared at Aya for a long time, and the redhead squirmed under his piercing gaze. Finally, the man said, "So? Come back here to make fun of the bum?"
Aya shook his head. "No," he said quietly, pushing the shopping bag toward the man sitting beside him. "Actually, I came to apologize for … taking your coat. And … um … well, I thought these might make up for it somewhat."
The guy gave Aya a confused look and slowly reached for the shopping bag. He hesitantly reached into it, as if he was expecting some sort of booby trap, and pulled out the shirts. He shook his head, and reached into the bag again to pull out the pants, followed by a jacket, socks, and, finally, a pair of shoes.
"What the hell?" he asked, staring at Aya over the top of the bag. He quickly shoved the clothing back into the sack and asked, "What kind of stunt are you trying to pull, kid? These are nice clothes. They stolen?"
"No!" Aya exclaimed, genuinely shocked. "They … they're just some of my old clothes. I figured we were about the same size … you know … from the coat. I just thought that, maybe you could use them, and … um … I … uh, well, I just wanted to say I was sorry for leaving you without a coat and all."
Aya jumped when the guy laughed. "You clean up pretty good, kid," he said. He paused for a few moments, watching Aya squirm uncomfortably, and then said, "Seems you're not really used to apologizing to people, huh?" He laughed again at the shocked, wide-eyed look Aya gave him. "Don't worry, boy. I'm not a mind reader. It's written all over your face. I don't think I've ever seen anyone turn that exact shade of red before." He extended his hand over the shopping bag and said, "My name's Hank."
Aya paused, unsure of how to respond to the unfamiliar, foreign gesture of greeting. Finally, he hesitantly took the man's outstretched hand and clasped it in a firm handshake. "Ran," he muttered, looking down at the ground at his feet in embarrassment. "My name's Ran."
"Well, pleased to meet 'ya, Ran," Hank said as he gave Aya's hand a firm shake. He chuckled again at the redhead's obvious discomfort with the gesture and personal contact, and then turned to root through the bag as he commented, "Don't meet too many nice people out here, you know." He paused as he felt something at the bottom of the bag that didn't feel like clothing. "Hey!" he called out triumphantly as he pulled the bottle of scotch and package of cigarettes out of the bag. "Wow! Smokes!" He held the bottle up to the light so that he could read its label. "Hey, this is premium hooch, too!"
"Hooch?" Aya asked, repeating the unfamiliar English word and raising his eyebrow in a questioning gesture.
Hank nodded and laughed as he uncapped the bottle, "Yeah. You know … booze, liquor." He took a drink and then held the bottle out to Aya. "Want some?"
Aya stared at the bottle for a moment. He wasn't used to associating with people so closely, and he was a bit unsure of what he should do. After Hank gave him an encouraging smile, he shrugged, took the bottle from his companion, and silently took a large drink.