Warnings etc in Part 1

It was just turning dusk when Aya ditched his car several blocks away from the building he wanted. His katana was tucked into the custom sewn pocket in the spine of his leather coat, easily accessible when he was ready for it. He made his way through the early evening shadows to the back of the office building where his target was having a late meeting. Though his information wasn’t complete, it was Kritiker’s opinion that his third target was meeting with drug dealers, and had given him the go ahead to do what he needed to do.

He had timed it right, he saw, as there was no guard at the booth for the underground parking structure. The shift change had just happened, according to the schedule he’d been given, and apparently no one kept real close tabs on how security operated in the building if one guard went off duty before his replacement arrived.

Aya stalked into the dark, sticking close to the walls as he crept through the parking structure. Silently, he made his way to the service elevator at the back of the garage, taking it to the third floor. He peeked around the edge of the door before slipping out into the brightly lit hallway.

The soft soles of his boots made no noise as he made his way down the hallway, glancing at the office numbers as he passed them. His right hand strayed to the slit in his coat where the handle of his katana protruded from the pocket. There were no guards in the hallway; the meeting wasn’t scheduled to start for another half hour. When he reached the conference room, he found the door locked. From his sleeve he pulled the lock pick kit, borrowed from Youji’s mission gear.

Quickly, he popped the lock, slipping inside the dark room to wait out his prey, locking the door once again behind him. He pulled the katana from his coat as he came to rest in a dark corner.

He didn’t have to wait long.

The light that spilled in from the corridor didn’t quite reach the corner Aya had chosen. His bad luck.

Aya used the instant the lights switched on to his advantage. In the brief instant that he had for the other’s eyes to adjust, he struck. The two guards in front went down first, the target following before the other guards had time to react. An alarm sounded down the hallway after someone placed a call. Two guards and the secondary target remained, with moments before backup arrived.

He hesitated when one of the guards pulled a gun. He could let this be his moment. But on instinct he reacted, kicking the gun from the man’s hand and running him through with his blade, turning on the second, slashing him across the throat.

The secondary target, drug dealer, pimp, whatever he was, it didn’t matter to Aya, backed away, shoes slipping on the smooth floor.

“Who-who are you?” he stuttered as he stumbled away.

“Weiss,” Aya growled and stabbed him through the heart. One more dark beast. That much more blood on his hands.

Aya looked up when the elevator pinged its arrival. He took the time to carelessly swipe his blade across an exposed piece of black jeans before sheathing the sword, keeping it in hand as he made for the stair well, not caring if he was seen. He would lose them eventually.

*~*~*

The overly bright theme song to a morning news show geared towards salary men jolted Youji out of his light doze. Groaning, he scrubbed his hands over his face before squinting to read the clock in the bottom of the screen as the newscasters babbled cheerfully about current events. It was a few minutes after six in the morning, and Youji was still on the couch, presented with a stiff neck and teeth that felt like they’d grown fur overnight. A glance at the ashtray was a testament to the grossness of his mouth; he must’ve gone through a pack waiting up for Aya.

And it appeared that the swordsman still hadn’t returned home.

At ten pm he had been concerned, but not overly so. If Aya’d had to lose any tails it very well could have taken him several hours to make it back to the house. At midnight his concern had grown; it had been seven hours since Aya had left and even the best security would give up chasing around the city in the late hours of the night when there were fewer people on the streets and more of a chance of themselves getting stopped by the police.

By two in the morning, Youji had been growing close to frantic. No way it should have taken Aya almost ten hours to complete a mission on his own. That’s when he’d started chain smoking and pacing, until Omi complained that the combination of second hand smoke and watching Youji pace was making him dizzy. At three, the teen lost his battle fighting sleep and staggered up the stairs, telling Youji through a yawn to wake him if he needed to.

When Youji’s watch beeped four in the morning, he was ready to start calling hospitals to see if an unidentified redheaded male had been brought into any trauma center. Even through his anxiety, two weeks of little sleep and less real rest was catching up with the blonde and his eyes drifted closed, though he was aware enough to hear the low murmur of the television as he listened for the door.

Scrubbing his hands over his face again, Youji rose from the couch, bending backwards, then to the sides to work the kink out of his back from staying in one position so long. Muscles loosened enough for him to walk, Youji only half stumbled up the stairs to the bathroom. He glared at himself in the mirror for a long moment before reaching for his toothbrush and taking care of the fuzz. He washed his face and used his damp fingers to pull his hair back into a neat tail at the base of his neck.

Satisfied that felt closer to human, Youji strode into the kitchen and pulled the coffee grinds from the cabinet and measured them into the filter basket, trying to decide whether or not he should call Manx. But the only number he had, that any of them had, was an anonymous line that they should use if they were ever compromised in any way. ‘Program it into speed dial and memorize it. Don’t call it unless you have to, and then you’d better ditch your phone,’ were the instructions they’d been given when they’d signed up with Weiss and Kritiker.

So contacting Manx was out of the question. Youji didn’t even know what the mission had been, or who the target was, so he couldn’t put his old detective skills to use and do some subtle probing to find out if Aya had even been successful. So he’d start calling hospitals, Youji decided, after he’d had a cup of coffee.

He looked up sharply when the back door slammed closed. With the coffee pot half full of clear water still in his hand, he all but ran to the hallway, sagging relief to see a shock of red hair coming down the slightly lit passageway.

“Where have you been?” he asked, more brusquely than he intended. The answer was the one he’d expected; silence.

“Aya?” Youji tried again. This time the shorter man looked up, lifeless violet eyes staring out from haunted features, tired and worn, uncaring. “What happened?”

“I had to lose a few tails,” Aya answered, then brushed past Youji, jostling the arm holding the coffee pot, spilling water over the clothes the blonde had been in for almost twenty-four hours.

“Ch’,” Youji swore as the cold water dripped onto his bare feet, holding the dripping pot away from his body, as if it would prevent further damage to his person. He watched Aya climb the stairs, staring at his retreating back, wondering what was going on in his head. Twelve hours to lose pursuit in a city the size of Tokyo? That didn’t work right in Youji’s head. He could have ditched the car and made it through the city on foot. They’d done it before, going after the Porsche the next day.

But it had taken all night for Aya to lose whoever was chasing him, Youji puzzled as he resumed his task of making a full pot of coffee for the four young men living under one roof. Which meant either Aya’s tails had a special hard on for him, or “Aya didn’t try very hard,” Youji whispered, coming to a sudden conclusion.

He left the coffee to brew and stormed up the stairs, passing Omi, still half asleep as he negotiated his way to the bathroom. Aya’s door was open just a crack and Youji didn’t bother to knock before throwing the door open and striding into the dark room.

“Aya, what’s going on?” Youji demanded as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

The redhead looked up from his chair by the window, fixing Youji with a blank stare.

“Don’t pretend you don’t understand what I’m talking about,” the blonde said flatly. “Three nights ago you came home with a split lip and a bruised jaw. You let someone get close enough to hit you. It took you twelve hours to lose a tail! What’s the matter with you?”

Aya continued to stare, but Youji didn’t think it was in non-comprehension. The taller man moved further into the room, stopping only when he could kneel in front of the chair. “Aya,” he started, softening his voice, looking up into blank violet eyes. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling. I’m not going to tell you I understand. I think I do, but since you won’t talk to me, I don’t know what to say. But Aya, I love you, and it hurts me to see you like this. Your world has been turned upside down, but you need to move on, love. Simply going through the motions of living isn’t going to keep you alive.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be alive.”

The words were whispered so quietly, Youji wasn’t sure he’d heard them.

“You’re trying to die? That’s why you took these missions?” Youji stood in one smooth motion, rage boiling up inside him. “You’re too chicken shit to kill yourself so you’re going to let some underworld asshole or his goons do the job? Fuck you, Fujimiya Aya. I cared about Aya-chan too! You’re not the only person who’s lost someone. Wake up and see what’s in front of you instead of wallowing in your self-pity! You have people to live for, you bastard. Stop living in the past.” Youji made it across the room in three large strides and slammed the door behind him.

Cursing under his breath, Youji stumbled down the stairs, anger still simmering just under the surface. At the moment, he wasn’t sure whom he was more angry with, himself for not seeing it coming, or Aya for being a pigheaded, stubborn, selfish asshole. The coffee was done brewing when he made it to the kitchen and he slammed cupboards and drawers when he retrieved his cup and spoon, kicking the refrigerator door shut with more force than necessary after grabbing the milk.

“Fuck,” he snarled and threw the milk carton against the wall, barely missing Omi’s head as he stepped through the door.

“Youji-kun?” the teen asked timidly, eyeing the pool of spilt milk.

“Sorry Omittichi,” Youji said sheepishly, reaching for a towel.

“What’s going on?” Omi asked as he picked the milk carton up out of the puddle and set it on the table.

“Aya,” Youji started, dropping the towel to the floor and pushing it around with his toe to sop up the spill. “Aya said something,” he sighed.

“Youji.” Omi drew the blonde’s attention away from the mess he was expanding in his attempt to clean it up. “What happened?”

“Aya didn’t come home until about a half hour ago,” Youji explained. “He said he had to lose a tail. That, combined with the bruises he earned a few nights ago,” he paused. “I went up to talk to him. Told him that pretending to live wasn’t going to keep him alive. He said ‘maybe I don’t want to be alive.’” Youji finished, anger diminishing somewhat having told someone else, and having taken some of his rage out on the defenseless wall and milk carton.

“Youji-kun,” Omi sighed apologetically.

“I love him, Omi,” Youji said simply. “And I was stupid enough to believe that he returned some of that sentiment.” He dropped himself into a chair, leaving the towel on the floor to soak up the spill. “I thought he’d taken these missions in an attempt to move on, to get on with his life. But he’s just looking for a way to die.” Youji met Omi’s sad blue eyes. “He doesn’t want to live anymore. I’m not enough of a reason for him to want to keep living now that Aya-chan is gone,” he whispered.

“Have you shown him, Youji? Shown him that you want to be the reason he should live?” Omi asked patiently.

“I thought I had,” Youji muttered, dropping his gaze to his hands, his index finger idly tracing a pattern over the spotless tabletop. He looked up again, felt the despair wash over him, replacing the anger. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe there isn’t anything you can do, Youji-kun,” Omi suggested softly. “I think this is one place where you can’t help. Unless you’re going to follow him around forever, you can’t keep him safe. And if he wants to die,” Omi said sadly. “I don’t know how you can stop him.”

*~*~*

“Maybe I don’t want to be alive.” The look in Youji’s eyes was the only indication Aya had that he’d said the words aloud. He wondered if the blonde was going to hit him as he stood, voice growing louder as he fumed with rage before stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

Had he done it? Had he finally succeeded in making the blonde so angry, so unwanted that he would go away, find a life somewhere else and leave Aya alone? Had Aya at last managed to save Youji, to keep him from following the trail of blood and bodies that the Fujimiya name seemed to leave in it’s wake?

Already changed into sweats for sleeping, Aya pulled himself out the chair by the window and stumbled the few steps to the bed. It had been a long night and he was tired. The last time he’d been out all night was over a month ago and he just wasn’t in shape for that anymore. He sank down into the mattress, pulling the covers up over his head as he curled into a tight ball to ward off the chill that had begun to seep into the room after Youji’s departure.

Maybe I don’t want to be alive.

The words echoed in his head as sleep slowly settled upon him.

You need to move on, love.

But Aya, I love you.

I love you.

Love.



Part 10 Part 12



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