Ermmm... this dun really take place in the real Weiss timeline. Just stick it somewhere, in an Elseworld or something. ^_~ You'll see what I mean. Much thanks to Steph, cause if she wasn't living on AIM, I'd probably go crazy with all the scenarios. glomp Done to the tune of the Small Two of Pieces, looping... (o/~ Broken miRRROOOOORRRSSSSS, a million shades of LIIIIGHHHHTTTTT.. the old echo fades aw~ayyyy... o/~) plop Hit me.
THIS STUFF CONTAINS YAOI! AND CITRUS! You legal and you like? Have a great time! If you ain't legal or you don't like.. get out!! Go on, get! waves flyswatter threateningly
Weiss Kreuz and anybody in it, belongs to Koyasu, Project WeiB, yada yada yada.... I just play with their toys and hope that no one notices the mess when I'm done...
saint, n. A dead sinner revised and edited. (Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary)
Sunlight streamed through half-closed blinds, stabbing through my eyelids like the blades of some holy angel ready to condemn me to hell.
And to hell I was condemned, this dead, meager shadow of an existence I lead, unable to ever reach the heavens I used to occupy...
I pulled my pillow over my face to stop the onslaught of the cruel light and stifled a groan. Brooding just wasn't my style. I only occasionally brooded in the mornings, when I wake up alone in my soft bed, the silken sheets around me devoid of any warmth but my own. But usually I left all that depressing nonsense to Aya.
Mm... what day was it today? Mokuyoobi, I think...... or was it -
The phone on my nightstand jangled suddenly and I pressed my pillow harder against my face as if to suffocate myself.
Kinyoobi. Today was kinyoobi. My day to come in. And I overslept, again.
The phone continued its insistent cry for attention. I could almost hear Omi now, demanding where I was, all the while giving me a stern lecture. You'd think he'd learn by now that I wasn't the most dependable person and his lectures fell on deaf ears...
Finally, the phone stopped its shrill yell and silence encloaked my room. Dead.
I sighed, pulling the pillow from my face and sending mental images to my body to get the hell outta bed so I could get ready for work. My limbs weren't listening though, so I just lay there, drifting in that limbo between sleep and reality. My mind wandered, flitting from thought to thought, a carefree hummingbird, and for a moment I thought I could hear her voice, my name rolling from her lips...
"OI!! OI, YOUJIIII~I! I know you're in there!"
I stared long and hard at the ceiling. Wasn't her, the next best thing instead... But I didn't want to see him this early, not in my current mood...
"YOUJI!! Open up already!! Omi called, he says yer not in for work, and he's pretty pissed off! He says he's not going double-duty again!" Another flurry of pounding.
Oh yeah, he would be pissed off, wouldn't he? He doesn't look it, but that Omi... heh. He sure is an insistent bastard. Mean one too. At least when people shirk their responsibilities. Another sigh. I might have been the eldest out of the four of us, but damn, I sure got treated like an immature kid alot.
Maybe because I am. Hell.
I managed to pull myself out of bed, stiff from sleeping awkwardly, and padded toward my door that was still being abused by the boy on the other side. A ghost of a smile flitted across my lips as I imagined him staring indignantly at the door like he was wont when something didn't go his way, lower lip puffing out and brown eyes darkening as...
Ken stared at me, hand half raised to pound again. He was hastily dressed in his usual style of a baggy, casual outfit, the shirt buttoned wrong and half-tucked in. He lowered his hand, flashing me an irritated look, shoving his way into my prison. "What took you so long, man? I was out there for three minutes!"
I shut the door quietly. "Most people take the hint and leave." I turned around, yawning, pulling on my lazy-devil-may-care persona. The one everyone hated the most.
He snorted, folding his arms over his chest, glaring at me. It was all very cute. Ken tried to so hard to look stern sometimes, but he was so goofy... amusing. He couldn't pull it off like Omi, who forced you to listen by pulling one of his many manipulating tricks out of his bag... or like Aya, who just promised death if you didn't do otherwise... she too would be stern with me, when I acted a little too playful or a little less serious... I rarely listened and it always degenerated into...
Ken poked me in the chest. "I don't appreciate having Omi call me up and order me to order you out of bed!"
I swatted his hand away languidly, gliding past him and into my tiny kitchenette, rummaging around a cabinet or two to find something edible and not growing any sort of colony.
"Are you even listening?!"
"I heard you, Ken. You don't have to shout. Other lucky bastards are still trying to sleep."
"Well, maybe if you didn't cavort around all night, you'd get a decent night's sleep for once in your life - "
I slammed the fridge door shut. Hard. Ken silenced immediately, shrinking as I turned my head to gaze at him. I was in no mood for lecture. No mood for any questioning of my activities. And right now, looking at him, I was in no mood to have that conflict rise again in my soul. "You can tell Omi I'll be there. You know where the door is. Make use of it." For once, I didn't need to force the coldness into my voice. It came, with him standing there in my kitchen doorway, completely oblivious to everything, especially ... especially... I turned away from him and the choking feeling subsided.
Stillness. Then, a rustle of soft clothing and footfalls. Open, shut. Gone.
I rested my forehead on the fridge. It's getting unbearable. Dreams, thoughts, everything... hovering around like an unwanted conscience. Nagging, nagging. Harder to control. Deep breath. Hafta control the want to kiss him, pleasure him. Fully dominate him in every conceivable way. To be dominated in turn...
Sick. She'd be disappointed in me, I think. Maybe not.
My stomach rumbled, breakfast was calling. But a shower first.
A cold one.
Another day, another dollar, another date.
After pouting for several hours, Omi eventually forgave my tardiness - he always does - and after that, the 'lunch rush' came in. Nothing like hordes of fangirls rolling in like tsunamis to make my day. Yeah, I'm a womanizer. So what? I only do it because of her... and him...
But no one would understand that. So I let them think what they think. I don't care. Evil words, those are. 'I don't care.' Just as powerful as three other words I always had trouble saying...
Another day, same old, same old. Just tonight, another mission, we've been planning it for a while. I put off the date, stupid me forgot about the mission till Omi reminded me to stop by with Ken later on at a tailor to have my disguise fitted a final time. I hate it when my night job screws with my personal life.
Omi ran off half an hour earlier for cram school, or something like that. I'm not sure. I don't pay too much attention to what he does. He comes and goes, going to school at the oddest times. Gets special privileges you see? He shouldn't be working on schooldays. But sometimes he has to. Money. And the others' schedules. Although I know Ken would have gladly taken his place. But Omi's smart. He doesn't really need schooling, in my opinion. If he misses class, he just catches up so easily in cram school. He's quick, that kid. Never was overly clever like him.
It's quiet in the shop. Down time. I should be checking stock and doing orders. But I lounged, slowly swirling a straw in my glass of.. whatever it was that Omi fixed me. Iced tea I think. Or those odd flavored-Milkus things he sometimes buys. Doesn't matter. It all tastes like blah to me.
I didn't hear him enter, but I heard him say my name. I like it when he says it. Says it like how she says it. Almost seductive, but without ever really knowing...
He set down a bag in front of me. He always brings something for us to eat. I think he has a slight fetish for food or something. Briefly, I entertained the idea.
"Just some strawberry mochi today," he offered, almost apologetically, opening the bag without really looking at me. Probably still embarrassed about this morning.
I tried to perk up, even if just for him. My brooding mood had deepened greatly since Omi left me alone to my thoughts. I didn't need to pull what I did this morning again. I smiled easily, with practice. "Geez, just strawberry mochi? What am I, a friend, or your enemy? You're going to kill me with such cheap luxuries."
"No royale treatment for you, Youji." He grinned at me. "Not on my salary!"
Cute, real cute. Sensing that I held no hard feelings about this morning, he clapped me heartily on the back as he passed by to snatch his blue apron from its peg on the back wall. I watched him from the corner of my eye, still swirling the straw through ice and golden liquid, and wondered why he didn't wear outfits that were more flattering to his appearance. His wardrobe was so simple, so homely.
I remember him talking to me once, when I teased him about his clothing... He laughed at me, mentioning how he wasn't cute like Omi, or sexy like me, or beautiful like Aya... He was just... Ken. Eh. If he spent a day in my eyes, he'd see otherwise...
But his opinion of himself came from his preoccupation with Aya. Worshipped Aya, or close enough. And since Aya didn't pay attention to him in turn, it made Ken think that there's nothing overly great about him. Oh he's got confidence... but he doesn't think he's special. It made me sick. Made me angry too, especially how the cold red-head could so easily ignore him. Sometimes I wanted to kick Aya, shake him senseless, demanding why he couldn't see the treasure that all but draped himself over him... And there were times I wanted to kick Ken, wondering why... how ... he could care so much for a cold icicle like Aya, someone who would probably never return the same feelings...
... fhn. Maybe I don't have to wonder. I know why and how someone could care so much for someone who would never care in return...
It's the thin, fleeting hope that what you believe isn't true, that this person could and does care for you in return, that what you feel isn't unrequited, that for once, happiness is indeed within your reach, found in strands of silky chestnut, in soft lips, in a whispering husky voice...
Snap back to reality as Ken pinched me in the side. "Oi, Youji..? Are you going to make that display, or do you want me to do it?"
I raised a brow at him. "Me? A display?" I snorted. I wasn't good at this whole flower-arranging business. Florists.... don't be fooled, you definitely need skills to make it. I pretty much sucked.
Ken laughed, reaching past me to grab some ribbon. "No arguments here, I guess. I'll take care of it, but you'll have to fill out a few orders."
I grinned, winked. "No problem." I got a brilliant smile as my reward for my charity. Shit, he's so delicious. I wouldn't mind barreling him over the counter right now and -
Whoa, Youji. Getting carried away here.
Clamping down my runaway thoughts, I turned my attention back to reality. It was going to be a long, long day.
I left early.
Did that alot, to tell you the truth. But this time, Ken didn't mind. He never really does, unless I leave when it's busy. But it was a slow day, outside of the usual horde of devout followers. So I left. Being near Ken was making me lose my control again anyway. It was really getting bad these days.
Very very bad. She's probably laughing at me now. Always like that. Easy to laugh. Both of them. Both of them strong in mind. I needed someone like that, with my wayward tendencies.
Flinging off my sunglasses and flopping myself on the bed, not even bothering with my shoes, I wondered if it was possible for me to get a little shut-eye before tonight's hunt. Wanna be fully rested before the kill, you know? It takes a lot of energy to murder a man in cold blood, no matter the wrong he did to the world.
I covered my eyes with an arm. Few minutes. That's all.
Fhn. Yeah right.
I awoke to feather-light kisses brushes across the skin of my face, the soft murmuring of my name. And for once, I didn't whisper hers back..... it was his that flew from my vocal cords. Low laughter. "Open your eyes, Youji." Not true, not true!! He had spoken my name with the same longing caress as he does Aya's.... not true, has to be a dream...
"If I open my eyes, you'll be gone."
"Don't be silly, Youji." Hands cupped both sides of my face, teeth bit teasingly underneath my chin. I hissed his name again.
"I want to see your eyes, Youji. I want to see your eyes when I tell you."
Bruising kiss. I opened my mouth to his, and he invaded me with his tongue, hands sliding off my face as we shared our breath, growing all the more passionate by the moment. He abruptly parted, chest heaving, mouthtrailing down my chin and neck, biting, kissing, licking... shit, I was burning with a fever, my blood thrumming in my ears. And he was doing nothing to keep me from internally combusting; instead, he fed the heat.
"Youji..." He was breathless, hoarse, hands ripping at my shirt, lips exploring the new skin there, fingernails digging and tearing. Felt like he was everywhere at once and had grown three extra hands. "Will you look at me?"
Hell, even if I wanted to, every nip, every flick of his tongue would send my head lolling back, my eyes squeezing shut. "No..." My hands entangled themselves in his soft hair, pushing him where I wanted him to go, where all the fire burned. He laughed that low laugh again, sending shivers up my spine. Against my urgings, his head drifted back up to my face. Another breath-stealing kiss, even more dominating than the first, even more deep than the first.
"I'll take you if you open your eyes, Youji."
I whimpered. I knew what this was, knew it couldn't be true.... couldn't open my eyes or it'd be over. My fingers tightened in his hair, then released the strands to press him closer against me. "What's so important about opening my eyes?"
His breath tickled my ear. A tongue gently traced it, soft lips took it into his mouth to nibble on the lobe. "So when I tell you, you'll be seeing me, and only me... and not fantasize about anyone in the darkness." Kisses on my eyelids. The scent of him overwhelmed me, driving my senses over the edge with the mix of spices and something-undeniably him, of musk and pure, unadulterated passion.
"You're not real."
"If I wasn't real, Youji, I don't think you'd be squirming the way you are under me." Fingertips danced along my bare chest, lightly touching, teasing, trailing downward to the top of my jeans.
And he didn't stop, simply undid them.
I arched at the brief butterfly touch before it moved on, my breath vanishing from my lungs, my hands reaching out to him. He caught both my arms with one grip, pinning them above my head, and I could almost envision him looming over me, indigo wings encasing us, a dark smile flitting over those lips.
Oh shitohshitohshitohshit... Another butterfly touch, even has he leaned down to trail kisses all over my face, the tips of his hair tickling my hypersensitive skin. The other exploring hand found its way up again, taking its damn sweet time, pausing to trail circles over my abdomen, to pinch and pull at my nipples till I fairly wailed his name. He was fuckin' playing with me, I know it, but holy hell it felt so damn good, it was because of himitwashimnonodon'topenyoureyescauseit'llallend...
"I want to tell you."
"Don't you want me to tell you?"
"I.. I don't want this to end. She left everytime I opened my eyes."
"I won't leave you, Youji."
"I don't believe you."
"When have I ever lied..?"
"I don't believe you."
"Trust me, Youji."
"I don't believe you!!!"
My eyes flared open.
White ceiling. Flat walls. Darkness settling outside. Dead.
I closed my eyes against the sudden flood of emotion which overtook me. Stillness, traffic passing outside, the wail of an ambulance siren. Deathly still. Cold. My bed was cold.
Fuckin' dream. I shivered.
I want to die.
Thunder at my door. I didn't move. Felt like this morning happening all over again. But it probably wasn't him at the door... shit, I hope to heaven and hell that it wasn't, not the way I was feeling, not after my dream -
"YOUJIIIIIII~I! OI!!!! OPEN UP!"
Someone really fuckin' hates me. If you ever decide to show your face, please, pay me a visit. I'd like to introduce you to several obscene gestures.
I already knew Ken wasn't going to leave. Pulling myself together, I clambered outta my bed and sloughed to the doorway, fumbling several times with the locks before I managed to get the door open.
"You're making a bad habit of this, Ken." I managed a wan smile at the boy grinning at me. I stepped by to allow him in.
He peered up at me. "Are you okay? You're awful pale."
"Aaaa, you just got me when I had just fallen asleep, you dumbass."
"Heh, sorry." He smiled apologetically, brushing past me. I caught his scent, inhaled. Lingering aftereffects of my dream. "But we do have a mission to accomplish soon, so you might as well get off your lazy butt anyways." Dropping one of the two bags on my couch, he gestured to it. "The suit should fit you. Omi and I tried our best to describe you to the tailor, since someone didn't show up, like he promised..." He trailed off into a playful glare. Unlike Omi, Ken always so easily forgave at times. It came from his faulty sense of trust. His friends can do no wrong and all that bullcrap.
He was so naive. But I found that quality endearing beyond belief. It was... refreshing.
"Anyway, try it on. If you have problems, call Omi.... he's got some abilities in sewing, so he can make any adjustments. I, however, need to drop off Aya's suit." A wry grin slashed his features, a spark of his yearning for our red-headed leader flittered before being snuffed. Twist of jealousy, pulling at my soul. Never been jealous.... well, with her. Yeah. Just with her. Lotsa guys flirted with her. Now him. Jealous cause he had fallen for another. Damn Aya. Didn't even realize just how much Ken fawned over him.
I reacted before I could stop myself. Watching in horror, I saw my own arms wrap around Ken's torso and chest, pulling his back against me. He felt soft, like the dream.. He stiffened suddenly, but only for the barest of moments, before relaxing, tossing his head to grin at me. Yeah, you go on thinking that we're playing. Shit, if only you knew what the proximity of your body is doing to me...
Again, I reacted outside my own will, bending my head down so my lips were nearly touching his ear. "Ne, Ken-kun, are you ticklish?"
"Youji!" He twisted a little, and I found myself watching the pulse in his neck quicken. He was nervous.
I smiled brightly, a hand sliding down his ribcage to poke inconspicuously at his side. He flinched. "Youji... Aya's waiting for me."
I poked him again, on the other side. As he started to pull away, I pressed him tighter against me. "Let him wait." And I released the Fingers of Doom, dancing the fingertips of one hand along his ribcage and sides, where I knew he was most sensitive, while keeping my other pressed up against his abdomen to keep him close to me. I could feel him through the thin fabric of his shirt and it took all my self-control not to tear the cotton barrier off... or to slide my hand further down... flashes of my dream filtered through my eyes, too real to be fake, too fake to be real...
Squirming against the tickling, he started laughing, rolling, pleading laughter and he tried to catch my hand to stop the onslaught. Too slow, Ken-kun. His laughing cries for me to stop went unheeded, and I continued to tickle him till tears ran down his cheeks. I only quit when he sagged against me in defeat. I would have smiled triumphantly, but he was so close, forcing my mind to pack up its bags and go on a more permanent vacation.
Large brown eyes stared up at me from where his head rested on my shoulder, a defeated grin playing across his lips. Those eyes though... they had the smile but underneath... there was fear, nervousness... you saw, didn't you??? You know how I feel, isn't that right, Ken..? "You win, Youji!" He tried to pry himself loose, his discomfort mounting.
My arms tightened in response. So what was my prize, eh Ken..? Do you know what I want..?
And again my body acted of its own volition. My lips brushed across his temple.
He jerked from my grasp, tearing himself away with a strength born of fright and desperation. He whirled to face me, blood drained from his face, a hand absently going up to rub the spot I had kissed as if it burned.
"Ken..." I reached out to him.
He stepped back several times, nearly tripping. "I.. I have to go, Aya's waiting for me." Grabbing the bag which had fallen during our play, he turned quickly, nearly smacking into a wall, and all but bolted for my door.
Open, shut. Gone. Deja vu with a twist.
I sat down on my bed, fumbling for the pack of cigarettes I kept stashed between the two mattresses. She's probably laughing at me right now. My 'mad skillz'... didn't seem to work, eh? I lit one absently, let it burn in my hand. Dumbass. Couldn't control the libido, she'd say. Yeah. That's probably it.
But he's so fuckin' irresistible. She was too, so I'm sure she'd understand.
A short drag. Smoke curling in the air, so fragile. The wall in front of me, I started to notice the chips and wear in it. Couldn't wait, could you, Youji? Heh. Hell no. Deep inhale, flicked the ashes onto my floor.
Move on. Fuck him. Fuck her. Move on.
Keep tellin' yourself that, Youji, my man. Maybe someday you'd believe it.
Mission time. Target: Matsushida Tetsuya and the safe in his office. Priority: Kill him. Secondary Mission: Nab the documents in aforementioned safe. Ryokai. After all, it's just another night of cavorting under the moonlight. The white saints coming out to play.
He stepped up by me, dropping a bundle of ropes and harnesses at his feet. He didn't seem surprised that I was here at his post instead of my own. Didn't say anything at all, either, just took his place by me with no sound. I drew a long pull on my cigarette, not looking directly at him, or even acknowledging his presence. But I watched him from the corner of my eye, over the rim of my sunglasses.
He leaned over the rail, feet balancing on the lower rim of the black metal fence. The skylights of the night city flickered across his features, lighting his eyes with faerie fire. Pushing errant strands of hair from his face, he cocked his head toward me, watching, emotions guarded.
I put my cigarette to my mouth again, but this time he reached out a gloved hand, plucking it from my grasp. He always did that, in an almost absent-minded way. But this time, he put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled with the ease of someone who's obviously done this before. My brows shot up in surprise.
He closed his eyes as he blew the smoke out, the grey mist hanging on the night air before dissipating into oblivion. Finally, after several long moments, he opened his eyes, crushing the cherry on the metal rail and flicking the stub down to the city below. "Smoking's bad for you. You need to quit messing with these coffin nails."
A hiss of static through Ken's headset interrupted any reply I might have come up with.
"Ken-kun..?" Omi's voice echoed faintly through the earpiece.
Ken put a hand to his ear. "I'm here, Omi."
"Youji-kun wa..? Aya-kun said he wasn't - "
Ken's eyes flittered toward me, then away. "He's with me."
"Well, he better get moving, Aya-kun's a little cranky tonight..." A pause. "Remember Ken-kun, it's imperative you get those documents. They might not be our primary target, but the use we could get out of those papers - "
"Yeah, yeah, geez. Persia and Manx only pointed that out fifty times."
"Just making sure. Ganbatte, Ken-kun. Out."
Ken leaned over and shouldered the ropes and harnesses. "You better get moving, Youji. No tardies or screw-ups in this job." He began affixing pulleys and ropes onto the rail.
"Yeah." I watched him work, and a heavy feeling wormed its way from my throat and settled deep into my gut. The night suddenly seemed unnaturally warm, the breeze abruptly stilled. Time froze, except for me and Ken, who faltered in his assembly, lifting his head to stare at me, again that frightened look engulfing the dun-colored irises.
I was gonna be sick. I turned away and walked as fast as I could from the roof, through the door, down the stairs, just to be gone...
Didn't even say good-bye.
I spotted Aya in the crowd of wealthy corporates, but he soon disappeared, lost among suits, buxom blondes, and cigarette smoke. The burlesque house meets casino meets big execs has a madhouse, people yelling wins and screaming about this and that. This was no pleasure house, it was the frickin' stock market.
I shoved my way past a mob gathered around a craps table, forcing myself to keep moving as I kept an eye out for the target. I wasn't in my usual assassin ensemble and it made me a little edgy for some reason. That, coupled with the same settling feeling that had gathered in my gut earlier on the roof with Ken, equaled one very high-strung Youji.
High-strung and Youji do not belong in the same sentence, much less be juxtapositioned so. But fuck it, the stench of approaching death in the air, and it didn't feel like Weiss were the perpetrators.
Fifteen minutes, still didn't see the target. Shit, there were so many people. It was getting hot. I tugged at the collar choking me, wishing I was in my more comfortable coat and jeans. So hot. People blurred together. Fifteen minutes and nothing. Where the hell was the damn geezer?!
Commotion to the right. I paid it no mind. There was commotion everywhere, enough to drive anyone insane. Shit, screw hiring assassins... a few hours here and everybody will probably end up going mad. The commotion got louder though. Everyone's attention was drawn to it.
I caught sight of Aya's red hair then. But it was swallowed by a row of balding heads.
Then came the yells. The thud of flesh striking flesh. Of boots striking flesh. Muffled sounds of pain.
I slowly weaved by way to a position where I could see the action. Only to feel my blood run cold, my hands go numb. My brain screamed.
They caught him. Somehow, those mother fuckers caught him. He was curled on the floor, trying to shield himself from the brunt of the blows as another stood by - the target!!! I realized in a sudden flash - demanding the usual information of who was he, where was he from, and where were the rest of his partners.
Ken of course, would never answer, thus resulting in more beatings. Oh, I took good note of the man who was hitting him. He would pay for every blow he delivered...
But.. what could we do..? I couldn't see Aya... and who knew where the hell Omi had stationed himself... Faces blurred together as I looked around slowly.
The target then turned toward the crowd, who was beginning to lose interest in the whole bit. Maybe cause they've seen it before or something. Probably a regular event in a place like this.
But the fact that our target was here was probably what had drawn their attention in the first place. And as he addressed the crowd, demanding that the other "disgusting criminals who dare infiltrate into his society" show their faces, I finally spotted Aya, who was slowly closing in on our target from behind.
Shit, he probably didn't even care what was happening to Ken, so frickin' narrow-minded he was.... Doesn't matter. If Aya was gonna go for the kill... than that bastard with the overeager urges to kick and hit people while they're down was gonna find his own maker. Heaven or hell. I don't care where he ended up. As long as I got to kill him. I reached down to my watch, pulled out the end of my weapon.
Stalking, the predator before its prey. Assassins who perfected the job skills to art. Aya was a flash of steel and red hair, a whirlwind of Death trapped in the form of a cold, eccentric twenty year old. Blood splattered, staining. I moved in after him, in perfect sync, a different type of death, but no less graceful, a black saint with gossamer strands of steel. Entrapping two thugs in a mesh of wire, I turn to my own personal victim, not being able to resist a slight smile.
Five seconds later, the two thugs were dead, courtesy of Aya's old trusty blade. And my silver garrote tightened a final time, air supply spliced through and the man eventually stopped kicking. Carelessly, I let him tumble to the floor, stepping on his fingers, hearing the crunching of the bone as I ground hard on the hand that dare hit my Ken. Not bad, really. Target was dead, his head in one place, the body fallen on the other side, and mass panic had ensued. Not as we planned sure, but hell, it's good enough.
Turning, cocky in my own achievements, I reached down to help Ken to his feet. Bruised and battered, but still whole. Nevertheless, I had to rein in my anger at the horrific bruise shadowing his face. He smiled in thanks at me, before the smile faded suddenly, eyes widening. Slow motion. Odd. His voice tore from his throat, curling around my name in warning, but not before the burning fire that ripped once, twice, thrice through my chest and torso.
Stupid stupid!! A fool! Even as the pain finally hit in staggering waves, I continued to berate myself for leaving myself so open, for being so focused on him that I failed to see the danger to myself.
Impact. The carpet was strangely hard under me. No cushion as I landed. Jarring pain, my closed eyes didn't see the blood flying from my lips as I slammed onto the ground. My mind didn't even register the contact... all I could concentrate on was the pain, the pain, and the sheer idiocy of my actions... stupid stupid.....
One, two. Loud, popping thunder above my own torture. Dimly, I heard the soft thud of another body, and terror shot through me, overriding agony with a fresh one. Had he too, been killed? Was I alone to die like this, a miserable, pathetic death, unworthy of even the lowest murderer...? Surely, surely....
Unable to believe it, not wanting to believe it, I cried her name... and only pain answered, flaring through my limbs and exploding into white stars in my brain. Whimpering, I whispered his in attempt to keep the darkness away... and warm arms wrapped around me, his pleading voice shattering the stars into sparks of emptiness. I smiled through a world of red and into his beautiful face. I look back now and wish that things could have been different. I look back now and wondered what would have happened had I told him my most secret of feelings... I look back now and realized he would have never chosen me over Aya. And that was the greatest pain of all, as great as the one which gnawed on my soul for so long after she left me... He's talking to me now, but I couldn't hear him. I didn't want to hear him.
He could never love me. Not like how I... I....
... funny. Even now.. I... can't say how I... feel....
My heart shattered, slowed, then stilled.
I had originally started this like... WAY BACK WHEN.. LOL!! Surfed too many Jap artsites, methinks. Anyway. Finally finished it, do or die effort. Hope you liked it or hated it. As long as you feel something. ^^ And for once, I didn't do anything evil to Ken. Mark the day! ^o^