Ken wiped the moisture off his goggles and sighed, his mutterings drifting into silence. If only he was done so he could go home and make fun of Youji's complaining instead.

A flash of red, startling in the dull misty grey of the rain caught his attention as he paused at traffic lights. Glancing across in that direction, he blinked.

Aya?

The redhead was standing beneath the awning of a small cafe, watching the rain coming down with a typically blank expression on his face. Then, without warning he stepped out into the rain, and, instead of moving off at a fast pace in whatever direction he was going, he hesitated. The hair that had caught his attention originally, was darker now, drowned by water that continued on down pale arms and cloth-covered chest, the black fabric of his t-shirt molding gleefully to his form.

But what held the majority of Ken's attention was the tilt of Aya's face. It was turned towards the sky, marble planes softened into something approaching contentment. Ken had never seen such tranquility on his teammate's face and found himself unable to tear his eyes away, especially when a tiny smile drifted across lips that were suddenly lush in their relaxed state.

Then Aya lowered his face, the smile still etched upon his lips and glowing softly in his eyes as he dug his hands deep into his pockets and began to walk away.

Dazed and dizzy, Ken let out the breath he'd been holding in order to draw another, allowing fresh, cool air to wash away some of the dizziness, though not the sense of wonder he now felt. Nor did it ease the heavy beating of his heart as it tried to contain something unnamed.

Aya was beautiful.

Somehow, he'd never noticed that before.

The redhead disappeared around a corner and Ken finally pulled his eyes away, a sigh emerging from somewhere deep within him that had just been touched by beauty and perhaps something else.

It occured to him then, as he noticed he'd missed the green, to be glad Aya hadn't seemed to notice him and his face flushed in embarassment at the very thought.

But he had the most unpleasant feeling that his dream hadn't featured the same harmless fantasies as they had the night before. All he could remember, though, were strands of silky red hair running through his restless fingers overlaid by a voluptuous sensuality he hadn't felt since before Weiß. He closed his eyes against thought and drifted lightly in the pleasurable, though uncomfortable, haze of repleteness.

An image grew against his eyelids, one that had become familiar over the past few hours. In amazing detail, Aya appeared, head tipped peacefully back as crystalline rain fell against his pale face. Abruptly sitting up, Ken swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed for the tiny bathroom in his apartment, swearing quietly to himself in an attempt to banish the image. He turned the shower on and stepped under the spray, washing away the physical evidence of the hazy dream, wishing he didn't know who it's redheaded shadow was - even if he didn't remember the dream itself.

Why, he railed to himself mentally? Why after all this time did he suddenly find himself attracted to Aya when he never had before? Sure, he'd always been fascinated by the redhead who was so very different from himself, but he'd never had the smallest interest in sleeping with him; hadn't even liked him very much. And now, thanks to a single glimpse of an Aya he hadn't seen before, he was dreaming about the being the other assassin's lover.

He sighed, leaning back against the wall of the shower, allowing the water to run over him, unimpeded now that he was clean. He'd ignore the desire he was currently feeling until it went away, he decided. If it had arrived suddenly, it could surely leave that way too, and in a week everything would be back to normal.

Satisfied with his plan, Ken towelled himself dry and flung himself back on his bed in the hope of catching a few more hours of sleep before work the next morning. He closed his eyes and snuggled his damp hair into the pillow, curling into the duvet and making himself comfortable. He smiled to himself and allowed his mind to drift.

It flew back to earlier that day when he'd arrived back at the Koneko no Sumi ie to hear that Omi had aced another test. Youji had been busy congratulating him and Ken had joined in, laughing at the younger assassin's slight embarrassment. It was good that Omi was still going to school, that he was conscientious enough to actually study in the hopes of being able to get into a good university and leave his current job behind. Of all of them, Omi was the most likely to be able to go back to having a normal life, even if he'd been Weiß for longer than the rest of them. He'd likely find it difficult to readjust, though no one would guess it by observing him.

The rest of them were almost too old to start again and even if they could, what would they do? The only thing Ken would want to do was play soccer, maybe coach, and that was unlikely given his previous J-League experience. Someone would recognise him and mention that he was supposed to be dead and then where would he be?

A few customers who had heard the news also made congratulatory murmurs in Omi's direction and Ken had laughed at the blush that bloomed on the youngest assassin's cheeks. Then he'd started as a presence moved up to stand behind him and a familiar voice had offered quiet congratulations before moving to don an apron.

Ken had then followed Aya with his eyes, admiring the economy of graceful movement and play of light against bright hair...

Ken abruptly shook his head and decided allowing his thoughts to drift wasn't a good idea if they were going to end up back with the redhead. So he got up, went for a run and, exhausted, dropped asleep as soon as he got back, images of red and violet still playing in his mind.

Aya straightened, sending a confused and annoyed glance across at his blonde companion, noting the ever-present cigarette and wishing he'd put the damn thing out. They were working together in the shop, Omi off at school and Ken busy teaching the neighbourhood kids soccer, "What?"

"Ken. He likes you."

Aya ran a hand over the back of his neck as he gazed at Youji, hoping something would enlighten him as to where the other man was going with that, "So?"

Youji's lips tilted up in the smile that Aya loved and hated, the one that said 'I know something you don't know' and let his eyes roam over the redhead's body, "He likes you, Aya."

Drawing his brows together even further, Aya stared back, "So?"

A heavy sigh, "You really don't care, do you?"

"Why should I? Ken can do whatever he likes as long as he doesn't bother me with it," and he went back to clipping the stems of the flowers he'd be using for an arrangement.

He noticed the soft sounds of footsteps coming closer, but chose to ignore them, until a hand brushed his shoulder, sliding around his neck to settle on his other shoulder. He paused, Youji's arm lying lightly across his throat, and waited for whatever it was Youji felt he had to do or say.

A warm breath of air hit his ear and he shivered involuntarily, drawing in a sharp lungful of air.

"Aya..." lips brushed against his ear then drifted downwards, touching the vulnerable skin just below his ear and the nape of his neck. The shiver came again, stronger this time and Aya's shoulders tensed as he prepared to push his fellow assassin away.

Abruptly Youji lifted a hand to cover his mouth, burying his face at the curve of shoulder and neck and pressed firmly against Aya's back. A tongue lapped at his skin and he sagged, faint prickles of ice and fire radiating out from that point of contact. His head fell back and the flower and clippers were dropped lightly onto the table as Youji tasted him again, his other hand drifting around to settle against Aya's abdomen.

"Be nice to him."

Aya's eyes fluttered in confusion, "Him?"

A smile stretched Youji's mouth, "Ken."

"Aa," Aya recalled Youji's statement of a few moments ago, but dismissed it again as unimportant. He wasn't interested in Ken.

"But, you're mine, Aya. Remember that too," the words were breathed into his ear as Youji pulled away, swinging his chair around and brushing Aya's lips lightly, lingeringly with his own. Then Aya was watching his back as he walked back to the counter and picked up the cigarette he'd left on the ashtray, going back to reading his magazine and waiting for customers to show up.

Aya sighed and turned himself back around, unsure how he felt about the statement of possession. There was a slight warmth in his chest combined with a coldness in the pit of his stomach and a tightness in his throat. The ambiguity was something he'd been getting used to ever since he'd slept with Youji the first time. He still didn't know whether he liked their relationship, whether he wanted it or even whether he wanted Youji, but he tolerated it because he wasn't sure if he didn't. Until he was sure one way or the other, he expected things would go on much the way they had been.

A few clips later, he inserted the red peony in between the dark fronds of green and the lighter strands of grass that spread out like a corona above them. He contemplated the precise arrangement of flora and sighed, not completely happy with it, but it would do for a shelf arrangement. Perfection wasn't something you could attain, except by luck, in a business where time was at a premium.

There was the occasional afternoon where things were quiet enough for him to sit down and practice the art Shion had first taught him. It was at such times, like when he performed kata with his katana, that everything dropped away and he lived in a state of harmony. Body and mind as one - it was very close to being extacy for him. Aya heaved an internal sigh; not that it ever lasted very long. As soon as he returned to himself, the rage and emptiness returned.

Even Takatori's death and Aya-chan's waking hadn't helped with that.

Standing, Aya moved to the window, removing a previous arrangement and putting the new one in its place. He took the old arrangement and set it aside, knowing Aya-chan would want it, before moving back to the table and clearing up the mess of grass fronds, leaves and pieces of stem. Then he swept the floor, as conscientious in his work here as when hunting the darkness.

Youji finished his cigarette and flicked the ash onto the tile floor without care for the fact that Aya had just swept there, absorbed as he was in one of the magazines he regularly bought. Clenching his teeth, the redhead glared for long moments until Youji looked up questioningly.

"Aya?"

He stared for a moment, wondering why Youji persisted in smoking inside, then his lip curled slightly and he shook his head in disgust before sweeping over that spot again. He'd long ago decided that verbally complaining to Youji was completely unhelpful, but stoically cleaning up after him had the affect of - occasionally - making him feel guilty enough to help. And this seemed to be one of those times, because he sighed and dumped the ashes from the ashtray into the rubbish before finding a cloth and wiping down the benches. When Aya began to restock supplies, Youji joined in with a single long-suffering look cast in his direction.

Careful to keep his tiny smirk to himself, Aya ignored the look and continued on with his work. Then Ken walked back inside, trailing tiny bits of grass cuttings across the floor and he growled, "Watch it!"

Ken froze and sent him a startled glance, saw what he was doing, looked back at the trail he was leaving and ducked his head, "Ah, gomen, Aya."

He quickly rushed across the shop and out the back, leaving Aya contemplating the trail of grass and the pleasure possible in violence against inconsiderate workmates. Then the broom was being taken from him and Ken apologised again while beginning to clean up the mess he'd made.

Speechless, Aya watched as Ken proceeded to sweep the entire shop again, a slight blush painting his cheeks when he noticed Aya's attention. Behind him, Youji growled softly and tried to slam his magazine shut, without real success.

The brunette had once again begun his recent habit of being incredibly helpful to the redhead, taking over his chores and being sickeningly agreeable whenever Aya said, or even indicated, his desire for something to happen.

That wouldn't have bothered Youji overly much, would in fact have amused him - to have someone else so blatantly infatuated with his lover - but when Aya started responding, it went beyond a joke. The beautiful redhead seemed baffled by the other's behaviour and had started watching him as he swept the floor or took over the creation of more of the mundane arrangements, leaving Aya with more time to work with his precious Ikebana. And he had been working on them, in between sending puzzled glances at Ken.

Like it wasn't obvious what Ken was doing.

The problem was, Aya was oblivious enough that it was actually possible he didn't know. Omi certainly did and was completely puzzled by the sudden change in the dynamics of the group. Youji wasn't sure, yet, whether Ken realised what he was doing, but at this point in time it didn't matter. Youji just wanted him to stop so Aya would go back to being his and no one elses.

Which frustrated him even more. He hadn't felt this possessive over anyone since Asuka, and even then she hadn't bought out quite this level of jealousy and protectiveness in him. Maybe it was because he had always known where he stood with Asuka, but Aya remained a mystery to him, to the point where he wasn't certain whether he was wanted or merely tolerated.

The faint nausea that assaulted him when he thought of the later made him believe he'd fallen further than he'd thought... much further than he'd thought. Only a few days ago, Youji had been completely certain he only spent time with Aya for the uncomplicated sex, but everything had changed the first time he'd seen Aya glance at Ken with that bewildered look in his violet eyes. Suddenly, he no longer had control over the relationship - beyond being able to arouse Aya - and he wanted that control desperately.

Ken stole another glance at Aya, who had become absorbed in his arrangement again and then shook his head, anger sparking in his eyes as he turned away, and continued watering the fragile flowers lined up on the shelf before him. Youji gritted his teeth, pulling the cigarette from between his lips and jabbing the butt angrily into the ashtray before standing, about to set Ken straight about a few things.

"Youji-kun?"

The quiet voice coming form his side checked him and he glanced down into the deep blue eyes of the youngest member of Weiß. The concern and confusion there bled the anger from his chest and he sighed, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Youji glanced briefly at Aya and Ken again, seeing Ken bending to pick up a knarled twig that had fallen to the floor. Aya glanced up as it was placed by his hand and he gave a small nod of thanks, picking it up and examining it briefly before placing it precisely within the vase. Ken lingered for a few seconds longer before turning away, muttering to himself and Youji looked back at Omi and shrugged, "Sure."

But there was the hot prick of bitterness in his throat and he rose abruptly before stalking out of the flower shop, ignoring Omi's exclamation of surprise and the silence of the other two men. He walked out into the sunlight, squinting briefly before shoving his sunglasses further up his nose and turned to the right, moving along the street blindly as his thoughts whirled. He was jealous, in love and wanted Ken gone. And he had no idea what to do about anything.

Jealousy wasn't something he had experience at dealing with, so he was trying to repress it as much as possible. He had slightly more experience with being in love, but without the certainty of it's return, he was restless. Ken was a team member and wouldn't disappear, either, and with the way things were going there was the possibility that Aya would fall in love with him.

Youji knew he wasn't the easiest person to love, that he could irritate people with ease - something he generally prided himself on - he was selfish and his many vices didn't exactly inspire trust. But, once he'd chosen to love, there was nothing in the world that could change that, nothing he wouldn't do for the one he loved. He thought back to the years spent with Asuka, his fidelity and the years spent mourning her. Only now could he say he'd moved on and even then, Asuka remained enshrined within his heart.

It occured to him to wonder if Aya realised that. Thinking back, he couldn't recall a time when he'd made it plain to the redhead that he was loved; but then, he hadn't been entirely aware of that either.

So maybe now would be a good time to let him know.

Youji paused on the pavement, resolve beginning to rise within him. He and Aya had never done the things couples usually did; they'd never dated, never just spent time together. In fact, Youji frowned, the only thing they'd done that was different from before they began this, was the sex - and Aya always left before dawn.

He was going to change that.

He was going to court Aya, seduce his mind and heart, convince him that he could be as thoughtful as Ken and make Aya to fall in love with him. A predatory grin pulled at his lips as he slipped into a nearby coffee bar and began to sketch out his plans - beginning with getting to know Aya better. He was sure the redhead would appreciate that.

Ken leaned back against the door after letting himself into his apartment and immediately began to berate himself for his behaviour. He knew Omi and possibly the others had noticed his almost-involuntary change in behaviour over the past few weeks and he hated that his conflict was visible to one person that he knew of. But if one person could see it then it was likely that others also could and he didn't think he could stand it if Aya, of all people, found out. That would just be too embarassing.

It had been bad enough when Omi had cornered him and asked, outright, whether he was in love with Aya. He spent the next half hour blushing beet red as he stuttered through the confession of interest, though he was positive he hadn't quite reached love yet. Omi had sighed at the end of it, proving to Ken that it was indeed a pathetic situation and one that only he, Hidaka Ken, would find himself in.

Omi hadn't, of course, said that, but it was what he was thinking and Ken blessed him for his ability to refrain from such comments - Youji wouldn't've managed to restrain himself.

The youngest member of Weiß had left him then, satisfied with the confession, if not the situation and Ken had headed for the shop. Then he'd stopped short, frozen by the presence of his crush.

And in such a flattering setting...

He'd stared at the halo of fire that the afternoon sun made of his hair and the glow that it lent to his eyes as he worked on yet another flower arrangement, while behind him Youji watered the flowers, more of the sunlight sparking and refracting off the liquid. Caught by the scene, he didn't at first notice that Aya had turned to look at him until the other man's eyebrows went up then down, a slight wrinkle forming between his brows as he frowned.

Ken started and began to blush before he had the chance to turn away. Fortunately for him, Aya wasn't the talkative type and merely turned back to his work without saying anything. And Ken had left, his colour still high and made his way to his apartment and the sanctuary of being alone.

He pushed himself away from the door and crossed the room to drop onto the sofa, allowing his head to sink into his hands. Things were not going well with his plan to forget about things until they went away and he was now left with a choice. Continue to do nothing or take action.

Problem was, any action he took was more likely than not going to end up with him in an even worse situation than he currently was. It was very, very unlikely that Aya would return his feelings - whatever they were - if he did anything at all, and Ken hated the idea of either being rejected, or worse, laughed at. He had enough pride not to want to expose himself to the possibility of either happening - which basically made his decision for him.

He was again going to do nothing, hope the whole thing went away, and be more careful about hiding things until it did.

Sighing silently, he laid the blade across his lap and bowed his head, breathing deeply as he allowed himself - now that he was safely back at home - to go over the night's mission. It had become habit when he was with the first Weiß and the Crashers to dissect each mission following it's completion in order to find mistakes and learn from them. Even following his transferral to Weiß II, he'd continued the tradition, finding it useful for himself and dealing with the death, even if the other members of Weiß used other methods.

Which reminded him...

He glanced up and tilted his head to one side, listening for the sound of Youji approaching his front door. The older man had always found sex to be a relief from the many stresses of assassinations and after each mission since the beginning of their 'relationship' he had sought Aya out. He didn't mind much; the physical exercise did a good job of exhausting him into sleep and the warmth of sleeping with another body was a comfort at times. Not that he'd ever admit to it and refused to stay with Youji, despite the comfort, when he was drawn to the other assassin's room for their assignations instead of his own.

Walking to the stand laid out for the purpose, he placed the katana reverently down and ran fingers over it, a tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Such a beautiful piece of art.

His thoughts drifted briefly back to his time with Shion and the first Weiß before following a train that led to his current teammates. Thoughts roaming over the past few years and various missions and other happenings, he moved into the small sitting room, absently noting the lack of anything remotely resembling personal effects and not caring in the least. All his momentoes were locked within his heart, snapshots and movies of the people most precious to him, complete with sound, smell and emotion.

Amongst the many memories were a large number of Youji, the blonde having a habit of taking over his thoughts when he wasn't concentrating on something else, and Aya paused and glanced around again.

A small frown crossed his face as he realised that the number of memories from the past fortnight were fewer in number than beforehand. Youji hadn't been around as much as previously, and when he was he always seemed to be busy doing something. Not that he hadn't seen Youji at all - in fact the few nights when Youji had slipped into his room had been amongst the best memories he'd ever had with the blonde. Instead of falling straight into bed, they'd started to get into the habit of sitting, curled up on the sofa with mugs of coffee and talking. Generally about the day, but occassionally venturing into deeper topics.

Something had changed for Youji, something that effected everything else he did, and Aya was disgusted to notice that he was changing because of that. He was almost resigned to the fact that if things kept up the way they were going, he was going to fall in love - if he hadn't already. Which would at least establish that he liked their relationship and allow him to get on with it instead of existing in limbo as he had been.

The Change... Aya turned it about in his head for awhile, wondering at the cause and coming to the reluctant conclusion that it was almost like the older man was in love. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, if it was Aya he'd fallen in love with - just the thought of that was enough to send his heatbeat to galloping - but was there anything to suggest such a thing?

He found himself dreaming about it though, wondering what it would be like to spend winter evenings wrapped up in each other to keep warm and go for long walks in the rain, to hold hands and touch each other surreptitiously throughout the day.

To have Youji in love with him... it made Aya breathless, unable to think.

There was a tap on the front door and he blinked as the subject of his thoughts slipped in through the door, his eyes burning with a more gentle, but no less intense, heat than before the Change. Caught by the expression with his thoughts still tangled up in musings about love, Aya felt a sudden fierce blush climb from his neck, onto his cheeks and through to his ears.

Youji's eyes widened and the younger man cursed himself and his too-pale colouring as the blonde took a few steps forwards and raised a hand to gently touch his cheek, "Aya?"

Jerking his head away, Aya turned, making his way to the small kitchenette against the wall and began gathering things for the coffee, ignoring Youji's distracting presence as best he could and waiting impatiently for the flush to die. It did, eventually, and he finished the coffee in silence, handing a mug to the blonde as he headed for the sofa. He curled himself up in one corner and glanced at Youji through the veil of his bangs.

The other man, his brows drawn into a frown stared at him for a few moments, coffee mug cradled in his hands. Then he moved, setting the cup on the coffee table and seating himself on the other edge, nearest to Aya. Hands reached out and cupped Aya's skull, turning his face upwards and tangling his fingers in red hair. Aya shivered, his heartrate picking up again.

"Aya? What is it?" the smooth voice wrapped itself around him, being absorbed into every crevice of his being, filling him with his lover's essence. Newly, suddenly sensitive, his body also reacted and, embarassed by the loss of control, he blushed again, "I..."

Something moved through verdant green eyes as gentle hands continued to hold him in a position that made it easy for them to gaze into each others eyes. Surprise, hope, expectation - all of these and more passed like quicksilver through those eyes and settled into something blank, almost defensive, "Hmm?"

The sound was bland and Aya frowned as he stared back, searching for something he couldn't name that would confirm whatever was hovering tentatively in the back of his mind. Then it was gone and Aya's eyelids dropped to halfmast as he turned his eyes downwards, a small sigh leaving him.

"Aya?"

Jerking his eyes back up, the redhead stared some more. The slight waver in Youji's voice set his heart to pounding again and he lifted a hand to brush gentle fingers across the other man's dry lips. As soon as they'd drifted away to rest on Youji's cheek, a nervous tongue wet the lips, drawing Aya's attention and he moved forward a little, watching, detached, as his lover's eyes dilated slightly and a puff of air ghosted across his face.

Aya smiled suddenly, a full curve of the lips with a showing of teeth and he closed the distance between them, his heart suddenly lighter, happier than he had been in a long long time.

Now he knew.

After the concern came hope and fear as he wondered if Aya had decided. He'd known the redhead was still debating how wise their relationship was and that, given the river-like qualities of his emotions - smooth one moment, fast and violent the next, but always opaque - he was quite likely to say no to everything.

He'd tried to corner Aya, get him to say something - tell him what was wrong - while busily trying to construct defences in case of the worst when the redhead had turned the tables again, leaving him achingly vulnerable in the wake of his gaze. Youji was more than fearful then - he was uncertain. He'd tried not to let Aya know, but he'd heard the shake in his voice and when the redhead had returned to staring at him he'd known he'd betrayed himself. Then the fingers, brushing against his lips and bringing desire rushing back to his veins again - but instead of the desperate heat, it was a thick, sweet syrup that dazed him and the next thing he knew, Aya's lips were on his, the smile he'd just given Youji - the beautiful smile - still lingering.

His eyelids opened slowly as Aya drew back, finding it difficult to do in the wake of the lethargic lust throbbing through his veins. Lavender eyes were glinting with more than their usual warmth, he saw when he finally managed to focus and gentle fingers brushed against his cheek, stroking up into his hair and brushing an errant lock back into place. The fingers remained as Aya stood, the light touch directing Youji to join him and he followed quiescently to the bed where Aya sat, drawing him down into the softness then folding lean arms around Youji's form.

Aya's breath drifted across the top of Youji's head and he felt the brief pressure of a kiss against the strands of hair. The warmth within him bloomed and he smiled to himself, suddenly knowing - somehow - that everything was going to be okay. His eyes drifted shut then, lulled into a deep, exhausted sleep by the stroking of Aya's fingers through his hair and the steady beat of his lover's heart against his ear.

He opened up, trying to pinpoint the nagging feeling and failing completely. It wasn't the date - there was nothing special about today - and he was pretty sure he hadn't forgoootten anyone's birthday or anything like that. Omi arrived next, a little late, despite it's being a Sunday and Ken didn't notice him until the younger boy tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped a foot and finally replied to Omi's greeting, shrugging off the concerned questions with a frown that let Omi know he himself had no idea what was wrong.

Gaggles of girls drifted in and out all morning, giggling and getting underfoot. He found them a little more irritating than he usually did and he could feel Omi watching him carefully. Ken could almost see the thoughts marching through the blonde's head - 'is the killing getting to him?' Ken would have reasssured him on that point if he'd had the chance, but given the amount of customers neither of them were even able to grab a break.

Suddenly there was a lull in the shop's shifting population and Ken noticed that Aya and Youji were standing in the doorway, having somehow chosen the perfect time to arrive. Then Ken noticed that they were standing closer than usual and were talking quietly about something - the volume was too low for him to hear. Aya smiled abruptly, a breathtaking flash of teeth and sparkling eyes that left him a little short of breath and he dropped his gaze, cheeks flushing.

'This stupid infatuation...' he thought to himself, finding his eyes fixed on Aya's hand which lifted to brush lightly against the back of Youji's before he moved away.

Shocked, Ken lifted his head and stared at the tall blonde, noting the way green eyes followed the redhead, something that looked suspiciously like love dwelling there. He flipped his gaze to Aya and was eve more shocked by the identical look he shot back over his shoulder.

He remained staring, not noticing when the redhead moved out of the path of his gaze, being too involved in trying to get his thoughts around the idea of Aya and Youji together.

He sighed when Omi tapped him for the second time and smiled ruefully, shrugging again.

So that was the way things stood, which was fine by him - optimist that he was. If they could keep each other sane all well and good. Ken, if the infatuation-thing didn't go away, would just suffer in silence, have plenty of really good dreams and make sure Youji did the honourable thing. Odds were though, that, as he'd previously hoped, the whole thing would fade into nothing, especially now that he knew there was even less chance of anyhting happening with Aya.

He sighed then smiled, satisfied with the way things stood, and went back to cutting the thorned from the roses that Aya would need for his next arrangement.