Warnings etc in Part 1

It was late afternoon when Aya finally ventured downstairs. School had let out for the day and the high-pitched giggly voices of the schoolgirls carried through the door that led to the kitchen and up the stairs. Boredom and restlessness had driven him from his bed; he needed to do something.

He paused at the door that led from the residence to the main body of the Koneko no Sumu Ie and watched the activity within. Youji sat comfortably atop a stool behind the register, his ankle resting on a shelf built into the counter. Omi was, as usual, running around trying to keep Ken from breaking things, either with the soccer ball or his innate clumsiness that seemed to apply to anything but soccer or their evening profession.

"Ne, Omi-kun. Where's Aya-san?"

From Omi's reaction, Aya guessed he must've been asked the question several times.

"He's not feeling well," Omi replied, a wide grin pasted on his face to reassure Aya's admirer.

"Maa, he's sick all the time," another girl whined.

"He's too thin," another agreed.

Aya ducked back into the residence as the chatter in the store became focused on his absence. What did those girls care? If they knew who he really was, what he really was, they'd never want to even look at him again. They would run away in fear and terror, no longer worried about him when he didn't show up for a shift in the store.

After a few minutes leaning against the wall and listening for voices to fade, Aya returned to the doorway. The girls had apparently given up on pestering Omi for information and had turned to fawning over Youji's black eye and split lip.

"Youji-san, what happened?"

Youji smirked. "I had a run in with an angry boyfriend," he shrugged with one shoulder.

"Saa, Youji-kun. You shouldn't date girls that already have boyfriends." Omi called from the other side of the store. The girls all giggled at that.

Aya chose that moment to step into the shop, going to the work area towards the back without a word. Youji's flirting diverted the girls from noticing him slipping in, and Omi's back was turned. Silently, the redhead settled in and started going through the orders, knowing that the other three would have done all but the more complex ikebana arrangements. He was the one that had the formal training in this sort of thing, after all. They did a fair number of Western style arrangements, but those were easier to create, and Youji was actually quite good at making those bouquets.

"Omi, watch the register," he heard Youji say, but tuned out the voices, trying to concentrate on reading the order slips, the script refusing to come into focus enough for him to distinguish the color of the roses the customer wanted. He squinted, knowing that he was only going to give himself a headache. But at least maybe the pain of the headache would distract him from the numbness he felt inside, the bone chilling cold that despite the relative warmth of the store and the sweatshirt he was huddling in seemed to permeate straight through to what was left of his bloodstained soul.

A soft click on the table top, shortly followed by the fading sound of uneven steps made Aya look up from the fuzzy lettering he was trying to read. Youji was limping back to the register, fending off the swarm of girls who hadn't noticed that injury before.

"I twisted wrong when he hit me," Youji explained, waving them off when they started offering to get him things.

Aya looked down and found his glasses and a steaming mug resting near his elbow. He was tempted to ignore the glasses, to purposefully struggle on without them, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to get anything done, or would be making mistakes if he didn't put the loathed plastic frames on.

With a sigh, he slipped the glasses on. Idly, he picked up the mug and sipped from it as he reviewed the orders, able to read them this time. The soup lessened the chill somewhat, and eased the ache in his stomach that he'd been ignoring. Hooking a nearby stool with his foot, Aya settled atop it, beginning to pull his tools from the shelves under the counter.

The familiar motions of trimming the stems to the appropriate lengths and anchoring them calmed Aya, helped him blank his thoughts and think of nothing other than arranging the flowers as perfectly as possible. The background noises in the store faded even more as he concentrated on his arrangements, time fading away under the repetitive motions. He took the orders to the cooler when they were finished, but otherwise didn't move from his stool, tuning out the rest of the world.

Only the sound of the grate being dropped over the front door gave Aya any indication of the time. He never noticed it grow dark, or the stream of customers stop. He had kept to his own blank thoughts for most of the afternoon and because of that the sudden quiet in the shop hadn't registered until he looked up from an order to see Omi sweeping up and Youji trying not to limp back to the register after locking up.

Aya went back to the arrangement, adding the finishing touches before carrying into the cooler. When he emerged, only Youji was remaining, closing out the day's books and putting together the deposit. Omi would drop it on his way to school in the morning.

The redhead considered starting another one of the orders. His worktable was in the back; from the street, no one would be able to see him working late, not if he kept the lights down. Keeping himself busy was a good idea, he decided, and pulled out the appropriate vase before going after the flowers he would need.

Youji was gone when he came out of the greenhouse, all the lights dimmed save the one over the occupied worktable. The koneko was truly silent, only the rustling of the plants Aya manipulated breaking the easy quiet. Occasional sounds drifted in from the residence, not loud enough for the redhead to distinguish their source, but enough to let him know that his three housemates were home.

'We're here, if you need to talk,' Omi's voice came unbidden into his memory.

What could he tell them, he wondered as he secured the stems in place. Tell them how he killed everyone that ever cared for him and they'd be better off if they didn't have him around?

The thoughts he'd been trying to push aside all day rose up once again. Aya forced himself to concentrate on the flowers, not wanting to dwell on it anymore for the day. He turned his thoughts instead to the remaining inventory, mentally cataloging what was left of the stock and what would need to be in their next order.

Thoughts diverted, the arrangement was quickly assembled and he carried it into the cooler with the rest. He had to do a little shuffling to make space, and the shop was dark when he had finished. Apparently someone had decided that Aya was done working for the night.

A thin sliver of light fell on the floor, a man-shaped shadow breaking up the block. Aya looked up to see Youji standing in the doorway, a plate in hand. "Ken brought pizza." He extended the plate in Aya's direction.

The redhead silently crossed the room and paused before his lover. The slice of pizza was topped with his favorite combination: olives, mushrooms and onions. Aya suspected Youji had a hand in that. Usually, whichever of the four ordered, paid, and picked up the pizzas chose the toppings. None of them really went out of their way to order any of the others' favorites.

Youji held the door open with his back, and Aya understood the invitation to join his housemates. The swordsman took the plate and walked slowly past the blonde, into the common room turned mission room where Ken and Omi were already munching happily away, some movie on the TV.

Not a word was said as Aya claimed a patch of the floor against the wall, half hidden in shadow, slowly eating the one slice on his plate. He listened without paying attention to the familiar banter between Omi and Ken as they poked fun at a movie they'd seen too many times, Youji chuckling softly near them, fingers tapping idly on his pants leg. He wondered how long it had been since Youji'd had a cigarette, figuring it had to have been awhile to have him fidgeting like that.

He pushed the thought away as he relaxed into the shadow, slumping against the wall and setting the empty plate to the side. His eyes slid closed as the familiar sounds of home floated around him. The soft noises faded as Aya drifted into a light doze, roused a time later when his leg was nudged.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Youji said softly as he bent awkwardly for the empty plate.

Aya nodded, blinking away the haze.

Youji winced when he stood upright, extending a hand.

Aya took it, allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Go to bed." Youji gently turned him toward the stairs before limping off to the kitchen.

The redhead ascended the stairs, deciding it was probably the better idea to sleep in a bed then on the floor in the mission room. He'd never be warm down there, if he fell asleep. The sounds faded as he climbed the stairs, heading for the room he shared with Youji. It was warmer there. He pulled a change of clothes out of the drawer and shimmied into the pajamas before curling up again in a ball under the blankets on Youji's soft bed.

Surrounded by the scent of his lover on the blankets and pillows, in the bed he slept in more often than not, it didn't take long for Aya to fall deeply asleep.

*~*~*

Youji carried his and Aya's empty plates into the kitchen, settling them gently in the sink before leaning against the counter. It had been a long day, and he was wiped out. The girls had been almost vicious in the well wishing after seeing his injuries, and it had taken Aya until late afternoon to come downstairs. Youji figured he probably would have at some point, knowing that the younger man couldn't bear to be idle for any length of time, but still, that knot of worry had grown exponentially over the course of the day, the sight of the redhead working at the counter in the back only a small relief. He'd still only managed to eat only one piece of pizza. It was mixing badly with the aspirin and the coffee and the blonde was beginning to regret having eating.

Ken was pacing when Youji turned back into the common room. He had missed practice with the kids to cover the afternoon, since Youji was somewhat limited in his mobility. That only made the soccer player more agitated than he already had been with the swordsman. Youji had watched him glance at Aya every once in a while over their dinner, anger still simmering in his eyes.

"Kenken, maybe you need to go for a run," Omi suggested, catching Youji's eye. The taller blonde nodded his approval. Ken was going to hurt something, soon, if he didn't get his anger out of his system, and after three years of working together, Youji and Omi knew how to handle Kenken when he got that way.

Ken shot a glance over his shoulder to where Youji was leaning against the doorframe. "Aa." He shifted his trajectory and headed for the stairs, coming back down barely a minute later changed into sweats and a t-shirt, heading for the back door.

"Are you okay, Youji-kun?" Omi asked softly as they settled on the couch, the chibi reaching for the remote to turn the TV down.

"I don't know," he sighed, relieved that Omi didn't turn off the TV. He was grateful for the noise filling the void when he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I'm not sure, Omittchi," Youji said softly. "I don't know what I'm doing here." He took a breath. "I'm so wound up I can't eat, when I tried to sleep last night I dreamt Aya's death in vivid color. How am I supposed to make sure he survives this when I'm so worried that he's not that I can't even take care of myself?" Youji had to admit to himself at least he knew he wasn't taking care of himself. He didn't notice the rhythmic tattoo he was tapping out on his thigh.

"You are taking care of yourself, Youji-kun. You're eating what you can and you'll sleep when your body decides it needs it. We're off mission rotation for a while, as a full team anyway, so you don't need to worry about that, if it was something you were thinking about. Manx contacted me today. They know about Aya-chan, and decided that we need a reprieve, even though we've been on restricted duty since that last mission." Omi spoke patiently, his innate honesty seeping through the words.

"I'm afraid. I'm worried that I could lose him, that we could all lose him over this," Youji whispered. "I don't want to leave him alone."

"Youji-kun, listen to me, okay? You're doing what you can. I saw you bring down his glasses and leave him something to eat this afternoon, and he did eat it. He ate what you gave him tonight. He went to bed. He is still here, as much as he ever was before. Keep doing what you're doing, and it will be okay. Be there for him, he'll find you when he's ready. He has before, ne?" Omi offered up a small smile.

"What if it's not enough? He's shutting down, Omi. When he attacked me last night, there was no anger, no hate, no emotion in his eyes. I didn't stop him because I thought he needed the release. But there was nothing there." Youji sucked in a shuddering breath.

"Youji, I'm sorry," Omi moved a little closer on the couch. "I don't have all the answers. All I can tell you is to keep doing what you're doing and that I'll help when I can. I'll even volunteer Ken. He's too angry with Aya for hitting you last night to be worried right now, but when he calms down a little, he'll see what we're seeing."

Youji just nodded and leaned into the embrace when Omi wrapped his arms around his waist.

"We'll all get through this, Youji-kun. We'll all help Aya get through this, and we'll have him back," Omi said softly.

"Tadaima!" Ken's call reverberated down the hall after the door slammed open and closed.

"Well, he sounds calmer," Omi grinned, releasing Youji from the hug.

Youji smiled back, feeling somewhat better for having gotten some of his fears out in the open. That tight knot of worry loosened up somewhat, though his stomach still wasn't happy with the abuse he'd put it through. He frowned when he caught sight of his hands, rapidly tapping patterns on his thigh.

Omi smirked. "How long has it been since you had a smoke, Youji-kun?"

Youji felt himself flush. "Too long, apparently. Somehow I don't think this is a good time to give up smoking."

"Probably not," Ken agreed, handing a new pack over the back of the couch.

Youji accepted it with a nod, understanding Ken's tacit apology.

"You okay?" Ken asked.

"Getting there," Youji answered, wondering how long it was going to take him to get utterly sick of the question, but for the moment appreciated that his housemates cared enough to ask. He stood slowly, wincing when his bruised body protested.

"Thanks, Kenken," he patted the smaller man on the shoulder as he passed him, heading for the back door for a smoke before crawling into whatever bed Aya had decided to inhabit for the night.



Part 7 Part 9



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