Warnings etc. in Part 1

Youji started the coffee machine just like he had every morning for the last two weeks. He’d taken over Aya’s normal role of opening the shop as soon as he had been able to move without pain a couple days after the half-hearted, anger-fueled beating Aya had bestowed upon him the night they viewed his sister’s body.

Two pieces of bread were placed in the toaster and two chalky antacid tablets were consumed while the blonde stared out the window above the kitchen sink. The building next door wasn’t enough to hold his interest, so he turned instead to slump in a chair at the table to wait out his breakfast.

Youji rubbed at his eyes, hoping to postpone the headache he knew was lurking. Every day for the last two weeks he’d battled them, lack of sleep and food conspiring against him. He hadn’t had more than two hours of unbroken sleep since Aya-chan had died. He woke every hour or so in a cold sweat, a vivid nightmare burned into his memory, only the warm body sleeping next to him convincing the blonde that Aya was still alive. His subconscious had become very creative in imagining ways for the swordsman to die. By his own hand, by Youji’s hand, at Ken’s hand, Manx shooting him in the head, and those were the most benign of the visions Youji had seen.

The toast popped and he retrieved it, slathering on some spread and taking it back to the table, along with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. His stomach lurched as he took the first bite of toast, grumbled again when he took a deep swig of coffee. Sometime over the last couple weeks he’d stopped bothering with milk. But the hot black liquid kept him functioning well enough to paste a smile on his face for the customers, and that was what mattered. Because work kept him from fretting over Aya.

Youji’s concern that Aya was going to do harm to himself had decreased over the two weeks since Aya had shut himself off. The redhead came into the shop around mid morning and worked until they closed up in the evening. He ate what Youji asked him to, and despite his earlier protests not to be called by the name they knew him best, he still responded when Youji called him Aya. Only responded when Youji called him Aya. If Youji tried to get his attention without making eye contact or calling his name, Aya didn’t respond. Youji didn’t know if he was being ignored, or if Aya simply didn’t react unless he thought they were talking directly to him. Aya had started sleeping less, actually sitting in the common room with the rest of his housemates. He stared off into space more than he participated in conversation or watched TV, but at least he wasn’t isolating himself.

Youji was still worried, but he wasn’t so afraid to leave Aya alone anymore. The redhead was growing thinner, if such a thing were possible, but even Youji found himself having to tighten his belt. The dark circles around Aya’s eyes contrasted badly with his pale skin, that, while no longer the sickly gray Youji hated to see, wasn’t as luminous as it had been just weeks earlier.

“Ohayou,” Omi yawned as he staggered into the kitchen, heading for the pot of coffee.

“Hn,” Youji grunted a response. He’d never been a morning person. He hoped Omi understood. It wasn’t anything personal, it was just impossible for him to be remotely human before two cups of coffee this early, and that was when he’d gotten a full nights sleep.

“Get any sleep?” Omi asked gently as he pulled a box of cereal from the cupboard.

“A little.” It was a familiar routine. Omi had always taken it upon himself to look after the health and welfare of his little family, and Youji had found him to be a quite patient shoulder over the last two weeks.

The teenager joined Youji at the table. “I’ve got a thing this afternoon, and Ken’s got practice. Can you manage okay with Aya?” Omi asked between bites of cereal.

“Aa,” Youji responded, playing with the untouched piece of toast. He didn’t even know why he bothered making two. He never ate the second one. “Aya’s fine, he just doesn’t talk to anyone.”

Omi nodded. “I’ll be able to do deliveries when I get back, unless you want to do them?”

“Iie. You look better on the little pink scooter,” Youji joked, earning a bright smile from the youth. “I’m gonna get started.” Youji stood and tossed the second piece of toast into the trash and refilled his coffee mug before heading for the koneko and getting the displays ready to be set out on the sidewalk, and pulling the orders that needed to be made for the afternoon pick ups and deliveries.

*~*~*

Aya flipped through the folder again. Manx had dropped it off in an envelope with his name on it, just like she did all the other solo missions he’d taken for Kritiker over his years of service. Persia’s redheaded secretary hadn’t stayed long, holding a brief conversation with Youji before excusing herself back out the front door of the koneko. The redhead had hid the packet under the counter until Omi had returned from school and he could duck out of the shop.

The mission was slightly different from those he’d been given over the years, in number of targets only. Usually, when Persia sought the swordsman out directly, it was for a more surgical type strike. Getting in and out quickly without tactical support was a skill Aya had developed during the time he had freelanced before being re-recruited by Kritiker to work with Weiss.

Aya’s targets were the six shareholders in one of the smaller, yet powerful pharmaceutical companies in Japan. Over the course of two weeks, he was supposed to take out each of the six. Reconnaissance had already been done for him; attached to the file was the schedule for each man for the next two weeks. The most opportune dates were circled in red ink.

The first circled date was that evening.

Aya looked up when the door connecting the residence to the koneko swung open and Youji slipped through, slumping slightly, as if he carried a great weight on his shoulders. The blonde didn’t seem to notice Aya sitting in the large armchair. Aya tracked him as Youji moved into the kitchen, heard water running, and a soft sigh. Youji reappeared a moment later, rubbing at the back of his neck as he went back into the shop.

Aya watched him go, feeling the cold empty sense of loneliness creep back upon him when his attention wavered. In the shop during the day he was able to push the thoughts aside, focusing on the work he had to do. He could keep the thoughts of being lost and adrift at bay so long as there was light outside and something to focus his attention on. Once the sun went down and the shop was closed off, Aya once again found himself lost within memory and thought.

He knew that Youji slept with him every night, though by the time Aya awoke in the morning, the blonde was gone. He felt warm and comforted, even in his sleep, and knew that it was Youji’s presence that caused it. Maybe if he sought out Youji before the sun went down, he could keep the emptiness at bay longer.

But he needed to keep Youji away. Youji deserved to live, to have a life after Weiss, after Aya. So he all but pushed the blonde away, didn’t seek his comfort or warmth, but accepted what was freely offered. He shouldn’t, Aya knew he shouldn’t take anything that the taller man was giving, because it would only be that much harder for him to get his lover to leave him.

Aya had thought about leaving. He didn’t have many belongings; just a couple pictures, a sketch, precious for the initials in the corner, not for the subject, and his katana. He could pack it all up easily and be gone. He doubted he’d even be missed.

Except by Youji. Youji would seek him out. Youji would never let him go that easily. Youji would not stop looking for Aya unless he knew that Aya was dead.

Aya sat back in the chair, letting his eyes fall closed. This could be an opportunity. A mission. A chance to die. A chance to let the murderer be murdered. It wouldn’t take too much effort on his part. He could let them kill him and no one would be the wiser. Kritiker would probably know his fate, even if his body was never found. Youji would be better off without him, would get over the loss in no time.

The redhead glanced at the clock. It was mid-afternoon. He had plenty of time to get word to Manx that he’d take the mission and do the little prep that was required before going after his first target.

The signal to Manx was one they’d worked out long before. Aya would tape a small cross to his bedroom window with the roll of white tape he kept in the dresser if he was taking the mission. Normally, he’d leave a similar marker on the mirror in the bathroom, letting his housemates know that he was on a mission. He’d take it down when he came home and cleaned up, and before he’d started sleeping with Youji, that was the only way the other three knew if he’d come home or not. It had kept them all from having to talk about it, and it seemed safest that way.

Aya slid the assembled papers back into the envelope, preparing to deposit it into the lockbox until the mission was complete, and then it would be burned. Destroyed. No trace it existed.

Just like him.



Part 8 Part 10



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