Warnings etc. in part 1

Aya woke alone, half tangled, half buried in the bed covers. The late morning sun shone sickeningly bright through the curtained window. The redhead burrowed deeper into the dark sanctuary of bed linens, hoping sleep would claim him. He didn't want to get up, didn't want to face the world.

His sister was dead. Youji was going to die. His world didn't exist anymore.

So what was the point of getting out of bed, giving up the secure warmth of the nest that had built up over night? Putting on clean clothes and going down stairs wouldn't change anything. He'd still be a murderer, and his sister would still be dead.

But Youji was still alive, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him.

Better I cut the thread now, Aya growled to the voice, silencing it. What was the point of torturing them both with what could be a series of last days or final hours?

No, he decided, better to just stay in bed, where it was warm and dark. They'll forget about me and be better off. I've already killed Youji, I can't let that happen to Omi and Ken. Decision made, Aya shifted, pulling the blankets tighter around himself, letting his mind blank in the comfortable stillness.

Uneven footsteps sounded outside the door, breaking the peaceful stillness.

Youji. And Aya was accused being stubborn. Couldn't he get the hint that he wasn't wanted?

Needed, that voice dared pop up and say. You need him but can't admit it.

Aya growled at the voice again.

"Are you awake?" Youji asked softly after a knock.

Aya didn't respond and the door opened quietly, the blonde's head appearing. The door came the rest of the way open when Aya started blankly back the slender man. Some part of the swordsman that still cared noticed the way Youji leaned against the door, keeping his weight off one foot, that ankle slightly thicker than the other. Glasses perched as always on the blonde's face couldn't totally conceal bloodshot green eyes or dark shadows lurking beneath them. Or, beneath one of them. Youji's left eye was surrounded by a dark bruise, fading to a lighter purple as it expanded down over his cheek.

But the rest of Aya didn't care, didn't bother to try to process the information that it was receiving from the ever shrinking part of his conscious being that gave a damn about Youji's current state. The blonde was going to die. There was no sense in worrying over someone who was just going to leave him behind again.

"How're you doing?" Youji asked softly.

Aya continued to stare, unmoving beneath the covers. He watched Youji move into the room after he didn't respond, limping slightly. The bed dipped as the taller man settled, careful to not touch the lump under the blankets.

"You should come downstairs, get something to eat," Youji suggested.

It didn't escape even a mostly uncaring Aya that Youji was not putting any label to him. Was he too afraid of Aya's reaction to call him by name, or was he waiting for some clue as to what he should call the redhead?

Aya ignored the gentle suggestion, still staring straight ahead, gaze unfocused.

"Aya," Youji tried again. "You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Aya whispered, slowly blinking, then closing his eyes. He wanted to be left alone. Couldn't the blonde understand that? He deserved to be alone.

"Okay," Youji said, sounding unconvinced. He continued to sit for a moment before pushing himself up gingerly.

Aya opened his eyes when the bed shifted again and watched Youji's retreating back. His gaze locked onto a concerned set of green eyes when the blonde paused in the door and looked back. Aya tried not to hold his breath as Youji appeared ready to speak, then with a slight shake of his head, Youji stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Aya let the breath out slowly.

He was alone.

*~*~*

Youji hobbled down the stairs, puzzling over what had just happened. He'd gotten the shit knocked out of him the night before when he had called Aya by that name, yet just minutes ago it was the only way he could get the redhead to answer him.

"Aya's not coming down?" Omi asked when Youji entered the kitchen alone.

"Iie," he answered, gently lowering himself into a chair across from Ken, who didn't even look up from his plate. "Can you open the shop before class? I'm not sure I can get around well enough to get everything set up." The color, shape and number of bruises on his chest had stunned him for a moment after stepping out of the shower. The area around his eye ached, and his ankle throbbed. There was a steady pain behind his eyes, a result of lack of food and sleep. He could blame all of his aches on Aya, if he was so inclined.

That made Ken look up. The brunet cocked an eyebrow. "Are you just slacking off again?"

Omi swatted Ken gently on the back of the head before sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Youji. "Hai, I can do it. Ken'll help. He's supposed to be on morning shift anyway. You'll do the delivery arrangements?"

"Aa," Youji nodded. He pushed the eggs around on his plate. Despite his headache, he wasn't particularly hungry. Aya normally opened the shop because he was usually up with the sun. Even the last time he'd been ill the redhead hadn't wanted to stay in bed. Worry was gnawing at his stomach, reacting badly with the cup of coffee he'd already ingested when he found himself still awake at dawn, sleep having been an elusive figure, flirting with him all night. At least he'd had the foresight to remove all the sharp objects he could think of from Aya's room. The katana was in the room they shared, and Youji had tucked it away so it would take Aya time and some noise to find it. Noise enough for Youji to come running.

"Eat," Omi practically growled at him.

He ate the toast slowly, leaving the eggs to continue cooling into a gelatinous mass on his plate. Omi dragged Ken off to help him get the shop set up so he wouldn't be late for school.

Youji's mind wandered as he ate, drifting back to a time over a year ago, the morning after he'd found Aya in the tub, ready to slit his wrists. He hadn't left the redhead alone that night either. He'd crept in after he thought Aya'd been asleep and crashed in the chair under the window, waiting for dawn. But Aya hadn't been asleep, and they'd talked through the night, eventually working their way around to what had happened earlier in the evening.

I'm doing this for my sister, Aya had said quietly. To pay her bills. I never thought what it was going to be like for me. To have blood on my hands to protect her. To keep her safe and alive. Tonight just confirmed that Ran is dead. I wear my sister's name to remind me of what I fight for, but I don't deserve it.

Even from the beginning of their time together as a team, Aya had trusted Youji with information that the rest of the team didn't know. They all knew about his sister, but Youji had learned his real name that night, and it was a long time before Aya let slip that piece of knowledge to Ken and Omi. Aya had confided in Youji that night, in more ways than the words he had muttered in the dark. Youji had to hope that Aya would remember that Youji was there to listen before he decided to do something foolish again.

After a long moment alone, Youji eased himself out of his chair and limped across the kitchen to refill his coffee mug. His stomach protested the thought of more caffeine added to the growing knot of worry, but he ignored it, needing the liquid boost if he was going to get through the day. What little sleep he had gotten the night before was plagued with vivid dreams of Aya's death, any number of ways, of Aya-chan blaming Youji for her death and her brother's. The worst one had featured himself watching as Aya slowly faded away, out of reach.

Shaking his head to clear away the fogginess and lingering images of dreams he wanted to forget, Youji refilled his cup and limped off into to the store to start the arrangements that Ken would deliver later that afternoon.



Part 6 Part 8


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