Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Not Now, Not Ever ❯ At This Point in My Life ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: Blythe

Disclaimer: I've said it once and I'll say it again. Despite my delusions of grandeur, Weiss is not mine. The boys are not mine. *sniff*

Pairing: Aya/Yohji (who else?)

Rating: NC-17 for lemon and language

A/N: Well, it's finally over! This is the last chapter and I have to admit to being somewhat relieved. This is for KD, Phoenix, and Moimoi-chan in particular because they were the first to encourage me and may be the last ones to speak to me once this is posted. This is for all of the members of Assassins Anonymous for the support & inspiration.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and the members of the YxA ML who've offered feedback.

Finally, thank you Marasmine for your invaluable beta-ing. You've made this a better story!

A Word in Parting: This is not a happy ending. Feedback is welcome, even if it's hate-mail. Let the bonfire begin.

Chapter 9

Aya opened his eyes to profound darkness. Nights at Villa Weiss were like this, no city lights to cast a sickly, artificial glow on the world. When the moon was new or obscured, nights in the mountains carried an air of almost tangible mystery. The world was so distant and possibility so near. Anything could happen.

Aya allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he reflected on what had happened. He'd never fallen asleep so warm and sated, almost content. Almost.

Almost, because he wasn't naïve enough to think that one spectacular fuck would suddenly make everything all better. It was progress, for sure, but it was not a resolution. They weren't going to wake up in the warm glow of love and live happily ever after.

He had, however, expected to wake up together. His smile slipped as he took in the vacancy of the spot next to him. He was getting really fed up with the way that Yohji kept distancing himself, both physically and emotionally.

`Why can't he just talk to me?' He asked himself.

`Right. `Cause you're so approachable, aren't you, frosty?' Damn but he hated that voice. Sometimes, it sounded remarkably like Yohji, sometimes like Aya-chan, but always obnoxious. `And usually right. Don't forget that!'

He sat up and sighed, scrubbing the sleep from his face with both hands and running them through his hair. After the episode this evening, it was clear to Aya that this was about more than just Asuka, but he had no idea what other skeletons were lurking in Yohji's closet. He swung his legs off the side of the bed. He stretched and pulled on a pair of boxers, unsure to whom they belonged. He allowed his eyes one more moment to adjust to the darkness before setting off to find the former playboy.

He didn't have to look far. The glowing tip of a cigarette and the wisps of burning tobacco alerted him to Yohji's presence on the balcony before he actually made out the shape of the man. Coming closer, he took a moment to admire his lover. Hair still mussed from sleep and other…activities, shirt still relegated to the bedroom floor, jeans hastily pulled on but not closed; he looked like he'd stepped right out of one of Aya's dreams.

“Hey,” Yohji greeted, snapping him out of his musings.

“Hey.”

“I didn't mean to wake you. Just wanted a smoke.”

“Hmm. How many?” Aya asked with a knowing glint in his eye.

“How many what?”

“How many smokes did you want? The bed is cold,” Aya moved closer as he spoke, “and your skin,” he said as he laid a hand on Yohji's arm, a tiny thrill jolting through him at the contact, “is like ice. So, how many smokes did you need? You've obviously been here awhile.”

Yohji couldn't stop himself from smiling at that. He'd said it before and he'd say it again, the man was just too damned observant! He couldn't get away with anything.

`I could get used to that,' he thought. `It wouldn't be so bad to behave myself, if I knew he'd be there.'

His smiled turned a little sad. His past had finally managed to catch up with him these past months. All of the things he'd buried had resurfaced as the depression had unearthed every past hurt and painful memory. He couldn't share it. He didn't know how to. Even if he did, he wasn't sure he'd want to. There were so many things that he wasn't proud of. Just because Aya obviously didn't hate him now, didn't mean it he couldn't hate him later.

Aya interrupted his wandering mind. “It's cold.”

“I can't really tell.”

“That's because you're starting to turn blue. Let's go in.”

Yohji cast another long look at the blank sky before allowing Aya to pull him inside and onto the bed.

“Yotan,” Aya figured he'd have to start this conversation. It wasn't easy, talking never was for him, but he reminded himself of what he stood to lose…or gain. “I'll leave you alone if it's what you really want. You don't have to hide on the balcony and freeze to death to get away from me. But,” he took a deep breath, “I'd like to stay.”

`Forever,' he finished silently. `I'd like to stay forever,' but having only just admitted it to himself, he was not ready to say it to Yohji.

“Oh, Ayan…” He didn't know what to say. He knew what that admission had cost the other man and felt immensely flattered that Aya was willing to try so hard for him. In the absence of words, he let his actions speak for him and pulled Aya into a gentle kiss.

Aya's hands came to rest on his shoulders as he was pulled in closer. Yohji kissed him long and deep and slow, reclining them both onto the pillows, expressing with lips and tongue what he could never properly express with lips and tongue. He thought of it as nonverbal, oral communication.

Aya allowed him to control the kiss, seeming to understand Yohji's need to do this. When they broke apart both men's eyes were shining with an emotion neither was prepared to name.

Yohji blinked, breaking the moment. He inched down the bed, curled himself around Aya, and pillowed his head on the redhead's shoulder. Aya absently ran his fingers through the tresses spread over his arm, petting and soothing. He felt the tension ease from Yohji's body as Aya's body warmed him and his hands calmed him. It was the end of their first week at the cabin. The morning would see the beginning of week two and start of a new relationship. He placed a light kiss on the top of Yohji's head when the man's breathing had become slow and steady, only then did he allow himself to go back to sleep.

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Tomorrow would be their last day at Villa Weiss. Most of the past week had gone by in haze of passion and sated lust. Aya and Yohji had spent significantly more time learning the pleasures of each other's bodies than discussing what had developed between them. As much as Aya dreaded conversations where one had to attempt to express one's feelings, Ran was niggling presence in the back of his mind telling him that it must be done.

They were lying in Yohji's bed in the now standard position. Yohji's head tucked under Aya's chin, arms around Aya's middle. Aya held Yohji around his shoulders, keeping him close. They always fell asleep this way, but more often than not, Aya woke up alone in the night.

Some nights, Yohji would be curled up in the chair, watching him sleep. Aya found it odd that Yohji could get away with it for more than a few minutes. Usually, Aya knew, even in his sleep, when he was being watched. It bothered him a little that Yohji could so often fly below his radar.

Other nights, Yohji would be out on the balcony, smoking, singing softly. Aya would silently make his way to the glass doors, trying to make out the words to the songs that seemed to touch his lover so deeply. Usually, though, he'd just stand there, lulled into a trance-like state by the soothing tones of Yohji's voice and the sight of him bathed in moonlight. The song would end and he'd pull Yohji back to bed. Heat his body with his own. Burn away the fog of melancholy with desire, slow and tender. Always in the deep stillness of night it was gentler between them, as though they were trying not to disturb the world's peace.

There had only been one bad night. Only one night that things had been different.

That night, Yohji had still been in the bed, but had moved as far from Aya as he could without toppling off the bedside. He'd been caught in a waking dream, staring at Aya with no recognition. Aya had begun to crawl across the large bed when something in his posture set Yohji off. He'd thrust one arm out, seemingly to keep Aya away. The other, he'd brought up to cover his head, having turned his face into the pillow. It was an instinctive, defensive gesture, the kind used to ward off a blow. It was not the behavior of a professional assassin and trained fighter. He'd cried out, too. “No, Keiji! Please,” was all that Aya could discern before Yohji's voice was muffled by the pillow.

Aya supposed his first thought should have been for his lover and his distress. But, honestly, his first thought was, `who the hell is Keiji and why does Yohji think he's in bed with him?'

Aya shook off the thought and focused on Yohji. He could worry about Keiji later. He was reminded of their second night at the cabin. The night Yohji had dug canals into his own neck. Like that night, Aya began to talk, offering comfort in empty words. Shushing, soothing. Calling Yohji back to him. He took the hand that Yohji held out in front of him and threaded their fingers together. He laid down with his head right next to Yohji's and continued to speak quietly. He curled their joined arms between them, used his free hand to stroke Yohji's hair. It was a slightly awkward position, left arm extended above his head, then bent toward Yohji who almost faced him.

When Yohji lifted his face, a few moments later, he looked lost. He was on the edge of the bed. Aya was holding his hand. Aya was staring at him. He instinctively reached to his neck, but it felt fine.

“Did I do something stupid again?”

Aya sighed, hating to remind the man of his nightmares. He hated the way that Yohji's eyes would shutter against him, hiding his emotions. He never wanted Aya to know when he was scared or hurting. Always, he was afraid that his stoic, unflappable leader would think less of him, think him weak. When Yohji was awake in the night, his eyes were always closed off and it wasn't until Aya was buried deep within his body that at any light would be reborn in them.

“Who is Keiji?”

Yohji sucked in a sharp breath and looked warily at his lover. He started to pull back, only to realize that another half a centimeter would put him on the floor. He didn't…couldn't talk about this. He needed to get away.

`Damn, Kudoh! How could you have let that slip?'

Aya threw a leg over Yohji's hips and reeled him back in. He scooted toward the center of the bed, dragging the blonde with him.

The message was clear: No Escape.

“Aya, I…,” he trailed off. There was no way he could do this.

The more evasive Yohji was, the more pissed off Aya became.

“Answer me one question tonight, Yohji. Then, I'll leave it `til morning.”

Yohji nodded his assent.

“Would you rather be with him?” He hated himself for asking, but couldn't help it. He sounded like some insecure schoolgirl, but his lover, calling another man's name, in their bed! Who wouldn't be upset? And he needed to know. If Yohji had another lover, Aya needed to know. If he was in love with someone else, it was imperative that he find out now.

`Even though he looked terrified and sounded desperate. Even though he hasn't been out in months and has been the embodiment of loneliness,' another voice whispered, but Aya couldn't hear that voice just then.

“No!” Yohji answered firmly and without hesitation. He was about to elaborate when Aya slanted his mouth over his and began kissing him fervently.

Yohji was quickly rolled onto his back, Aya's body pinning him down. He closed his eyes and suppressed the panic, choked the fear. He reminded himself of his surroundings. Reminded himself that the man looming over him was Aya and Aya was different.

When he opened his eyes, Aya was watching him. He sat back on his heels, away from Yohji's body. Assuming this less domineering position, he regarded Yohji expectantly and Yohji was at a loss as to what the other man was waiting for. Yohji searched Aya's face for an answer. He found none.

Aya frowned at the perplexed expression on the blonde's face. It shouldn't have been that difficult to figure out. He was trying, in his own way, to be sensitive. He wanted Yohji to touch him, to move first and let Aya know that this was alright. But he wasn't moving, wasn't reaching out. Instead, Aya could practically feel him pulling away, a physical pain for a psychological act.

This really was getting to be too much for him. Ill-equipped as he was to deal with his own emotions, how could be expected to handle Yohji's as well? Particularly when the man was such a contradiction. One minute, he's practically begging for Aya's touch, the next, he flinches from it! Aya's patience was, once again, wearing dangerously thin.

Well, he hadn't come this far just to lose now.

Aya growled and Yohji…

Relaxed?

That couldn't be right, but Aya felt the tension drain from the blonde's body. He heard the small sigh that accompanied muscles releasing their rigidity. He watched as Yohji tilted his chin up, exposing his neck. He saw the confusion flee the beautiful face to be replaced with something more familiar. Heat, lust, desire; all combining to darken leaf green eyes.

Aya's body responded instantly to the look Yohji was giving him. He threw a leg over golden hips and planted a hand on either side of Yohji's head. Dipping his head he licked a trail from navel to sternum. He liked to watch Yohji's abs flutter in response to the stimulus. He especially liked to see what other reactions he could pull from his highly sensitive, extremely vocal, and breathtakingly responsive lover. On more than one occasion, it had been Yohji's trembling need and plaintive mewls that had frayed his control.

He didn't really mind.

He turned his head slightly left and scribed concentric circles around the nipple with his tongue. Smiling slightly with the faint hum of appreciation he heard, he continued his ministrations on the other side. When the nub had hardened into a satisfactory little peak, he closed his teeth around it. Yohji's hands moved to his shoulders and head, pulling him closer. He switched sides again, to a disappointed whimper, until he clamped his mouth down and sucked hard. He was rewarded with long legs encircling his waist and his name husked out on a throaty moan.

He abandoned the now over-sensitized flesh to continue upwards. He trailed kisses from Yohji's left ear, all along his jaw until he reached his mouth. Once there, he wasted no time in instigating a heated kiss, so full of promise that Yohji moaned again. Aya broke the kiss while grinding his hips down to watch his lover throw his head back and gasp. Sweat had already broken out in tiny beads on both men, making the press of bodies slick and smooth.

He moved to Yohji's neck, leaving more kisses in his wake. Yohji was already writhing beneath him, bucking his hips and making wordless pleas for more contact. Aya was just about to settle into making another mark on the already bruised column when he was interrupted.

Yohji enjoyed being marked. He liked being claimed. But, he loved being fucked by Aya. It was, without a doubt, the best sex of his life. And he wanted it. He needed it.

Now.

Over the years, Yohji had learned to move his body almost as fluidly as his wire. For an assassin of his stature, moving with grace and stealth was required. Yohji just happened to make it look good, too.

He rolled, catching Aya complete unawares. He didn't stop until he had reversed their positions. Aya's face showed a moment of shock, annoyance following hard on its heels. This wasn't a position he was accustomed to being in. He wasn't sure what Yohji was thinking or planning. He wasn't sure he liked it.

Yohji understood the question in Aya's eyes this time and answered it only with a kiss. A deep, searing kiss in which he sucked on Aya's tongue, bit at his lips, and drank in the little noises the man probably didn't even know he was making. Yohji smirked a little at that thought.

When he pulled back, Aya looked dazed, but still a little skeptical. Yohji went straight back to drowning his doubt in desire. He repeated everything that Aya had done to him, backwards. He started with his jaw and neck. Moved down to lavish attention on his chest. Licked his own wet trail from sternum to navel. Paused to explore the indentation, swirling his tongue around it and within it, enjoying the increased pace of Aya's breathing as he lingered there. But, he was too close to his goal to stop there.

Aya wasn't sure that didn't like this position, either.

Yohji could feel the heat of Aya's arousal on his cheek as he placed a few more kisses on his stomach and hips. Then, he was faced with his prize. Aya's breathing was ragged, his hands clenched in the sheets. That would not do. Every muscle was taut, nerve-endings singing as though touched by a live wire. Yohji, his living wire.

He hesitated, observing Aya, just long enough for the man to begin to relax. Aya propped himself on his elbows, looking down at the top of a blonde head. As he watched, a face lifted to greet him, honey locks being tucked back so as not to hinder the view. Wire calloused hands moved to moon pale hips. Emerald eyes, sparkling with mischief met lust lidded violet. A smirk broke lush lips. Moist, pink tongue darted out, covered Aya's erection in one broad stroke from root to tip.

Aya's arms gave out and he fell back onto the pillows with a grunt.

Yohji only smiled with his eyes as he opened his mouth wide and swallowed Aya whole. Aya couldn't stop himself from crying out and trying to push into the heat engulfing him. Yohji had been prepared and was pinning his hips, taking his time sliding his lips slowly up and down the length of flesh.

After a few more torturous minutes of Aya being able to do nothing by remember how to breathe and bury his hands in Yohji's hair, he became very frustrated. Yohji sensed his lover nearing the edge, needing release. However, the blonde wasn't ready to be finished yet. Gripping his lover's cock at the root, he spent a few more seconds covering every inch of it with licks and kisses, finally sucking hard at the head, tasting the fluid steadily leaking from the tip.

He released the grip of his lips and his fingers at the same time. Aya's growl warned him that the swordsman was none too happy with being abandoned so close to orgasm. Yohji stretched out above him, reaching under the pillows for the lube while distracting Aya with a few tongue-tangling kisses.

Yohji continued to hold Aya's attention while his hands were busy. Between kisses he told Aya how much he enjoyed having him in his mouth. How much he liked the sounds he made. How much it aroused him to hear Aya say his name. Yohji enjoyed exploring this little kink of Aya's. The redhead had let it slip after their first night together that he'd never known how completely erotic the right kind of talking could be. And it was working perfectly tonight, keeping Aya from even wondering what Yohji's hands were up to.

Then, Yohji was sitting back again, moving away from Aya's lips and ear. Not kissing, not talking. Aya was about to ask a question, but all that came out of his open mouth was a hiss as a lube covered hand wrapped around him, moving up and down enough to slick him completely.

Before he could begin to reason out the situation, he was transfixed by the sight of Yohji positioning himself over him. He couldn't dwell on this small detail either as his brain completely short-circuited when Yohji snapped his hips down, impaling himself in one smooth thrust. Aya cried out, both at the sensation and the rapturous look on his lover's face.

Yohji threw his head back, resting and enjoying the feel of Aya within him. His hands rested on his own thighs, the muscles shifting under the skin as he rolled his hips in tiny circles. Aya was impressed with the blonde's strength and control. He could see the strain on ligaments and tendons as Yohji's full weight was held up by those powerful legs.

`Long, well-shaped, strong legs…' It truly was an inspiring sight.

Of course, Aya preferred said legs wrapped around his waist or draped over his shoulders and he was in no mood for teasing tonight.

Reaching out, he captured Yohji's arms, using them to pull his mate down for a kiss. He crushed the blonde to his chest, appreciating the press of skin against skin. Moving from lips to neck, Aya bit down, earning another mewl. Still holding tight, he rolled them again, gaining the leverage he needed to properly fuck his lover.

He smiled against Yohji's neck as the blonde bucked beneath him, moving his hips in response to the merciless pace Aya was setting. He kissed all over the golden neck and chest, pausing occasionally to leave another love bite.

Yohji dragged blunt nails down the redhead's back, causing Aya to growl and pound into him harder, control slipping. When Aya changed position to strike the panting blonde's prostate, Yohji couldn't stop the flow of pleas for more and harder and faster that streamed from him. He was so close!

He could feel everything tightening within him, ready to snap. He reached between their bodies, needing the extra friction. The sight of Yohji beginning to stroke himself was Aya's undoing.

“Mine!” He growled, wrapping his hand around Yohji's and bringing him closer to the brink.

“Mine,” he breathed again and came with a final, forceful thrust.

That was enough for Yohji. The spasm of Aya's cock inside him, the wet warmth that filled him led him to his own orgasm, covering both their bellies and his own hand.

They fell asleep again after a cursory clean-up. Aya kept his word and didn't ask any more questions, somewhat mollified by re-claiming his lover.

Yohji's nightmares remained dormant for the rest of the night and he stayed in the bed until morning.

Everything looked different in light of day and both men were loathe to bring up the subject of Keiji or Yohji's past. So, they didn't. Yohji, because he didn't want to talk about it and Aya, because he didn't know how.

So, they put the bad night behind them.

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“Are you all packed?”

Yohji nodded his response. He was getting quiet again.

“Don't you want to go back?” Aya asked, slipping himself into the chair behind the blonde and pulling him back, draping his arms over Yohji's chest.

Yohji shook his head, but elucidated at Aya's long-suffering sigh.

“It's just been so nice here. Just the two of us. No missions. No Koneko.”

Aya smoothed his hands through Yohji's hair, massaging his head and neck, desperate to keep him from freezing over again.

“I know. It has been nice, but we're needed elsewhere. And Omi and Ken miss you.”

He placed a few light kisses on Yohji's shoulder and neck, smirking over the marks he'd left over the past several nights. Smirking wider with the thought of leaving a few more tonight.

“Yohji,” Aya spoke quietly into his ear, “I won't lie and tell you nothing will change. But I promise you, this doesn't end when we leave here.”

Yohji turned his head to kiss his lover. He gave a small smile.

“Thank you, Ayan.”

He removed himself from the redhead's lap and went upstairs to make sure everything was ready. He moved around the room, checking drawers, the closet, under the bed, ensuring he hadn't forgotten anything. He started singing to himself.

Done so many things wrong,

I don't know if I can do right.

At this point in my life,

I've done so many things wrong,

I don't know if I can do right.

If you put your trust in me,

I hope I won't let you down,

If you give me a chance,

I'll try.

Aya came in then and turned the bed down. Yohji slipped out to the balcony for one last smoke before bed, still singing.

You see it's been a hard road,

The road I'm traveling on.

If I take your hand,

I might lead down the path to ruin.

I've had a hard life.

I'm just saying so you'll understand,

That right now, right now, I'm doing the best I can.

At this point in my life.

Yohji stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the railing. He went inside and brushed his teeth. He climbed into bed and let his body take over. He let himself feel Aya's searing heat, the heady rush of passion, the mind-numbing bliss of release. He folded himself into Aya's arms and lightly dozed.

He woke in the calm of the night and extracted himself from his teammate's arms and legs. The song was still running through his head. He sat at the desk and began writing out the words by moonlight.

At this point in my life,

Although I've mostly walked in the shadows,

I'm still searching for the light.

Won't you put your faith in me?

We both know that's what matters.

If you give me a chance,

I'll try.

You see I've been climbing stairs,

But mostly stumbling down.

I've been reaching high,

But always losing ground.

You see, I've conquered hills,

But I still have mountains to climb.

And right now, right now,

I'm doing the best I can.

Yohji finished writing out the lyrics. He folded the sheets of paper in half. Tucked them away with several others and set them aside. He walked back to the bed and took a moment to memorize the scene. Then, he bent down and kissed his love, gracefully evading the unconsciously reaching arms.

Aya woke up alone in the sickly colorless hour before dawn. It was late by their normal standards. It was usually the middle of the night when he woke to drag Yohji back to bed. Maybe this was progress. Maybe he'd slept a little longer this time.

Looking around, he didn't see Yohji slumped in the chair. So, he gingerly placed his bare feet on the cold wood floor and made his way to the balcony. The door was closed. Yohji must have closed it to keep the cold air out. He stuck his head outside.

The balcony was deserted.

Aya frowned.

`Surely the man would not be ready for breakfast yet,' he thought as he yawned and stretched.

He moved toward the bedroom door and stopped with his hand on the knob. Something on the desk caught his eye. An envelope.

An envelope with, he saw as he looked closer, his name on it.

He flipped the switch for the overhead light and stepped back to take in the room as a whole. He stood still for a moment, listening.

He heard nothing.

Resuming his scan, he noticed several things that were off.

Most notably, Yohji's slippers were under the chair.

Aya grabbed the envelope and flew down the stairs.

“Yohji?” He called out.

Silence.

“Yohji!” A little more concerned.

No answer.

“YOHJI!” Full on panic.

He'd checked every room. And the porch. And the perimeter. He walked back through the front door.

“Yotan?” Defeated.

His overnight bag was not in their room. His shoes were not by the door.

With trembling fingers Aya opened the envelope he'd found. The first page was song lyrics. Aya recognized them. He'd caught bits and pieces of the song as Yohji had sung to himself when he thought no one could hear. When he got to the bridge, he had to sit down.

Before we take a step,

Before we walk down that path,

Before I make any promises,

Before you have regrets,

Before we talk commitment,

Let me tell you of my past.

All I've seen and all I've done,

Things I'd like to forget.

At this point in my life.

The next pages were filled, front and back, with the story of Yohji's life before Weiss. Well, maybe not the entire story, more like the Cliff's Notes version.

It was…enlightening, to say the least.

Aya was grateful that no one else was around as he cried bitterly for some of things his love had endured. Then, he wished for the man himself, so he could tell Yohji how strong he was for surviving it. For not losing his mind. For not giving in. For still having the capacity for caring and compassion. For still being able to love.

For being able to be loved.

He wished he was hearing the words from Yohji's mouth, but at least this way, he was hearing Yohji's voice. It wasn't like reading a Kritiker file, which no doubt contained all of this information and presented it in an organized, clinical fashion. Aya had actually considered asking Omi to hack the file for him when they got back to the Koneko, just to understand, but this was better.

`Or, it would be, if Yohji was actually here.'

He turned to the last page of the letter and found the last verse of the song.

At this point in my life,

I'd like to live as if only love mattered,

As if redemption was in sight.

As if the search to live honestly,

Is all that anyone needs,

No matter if you find it.

You see when I've touched the sky,

The earth's gravity has pulled me down.

But now I've reconciled in this world that

Birds and angels get the wings to fly.

If you can believe in this heart of mine,

If you can give it a try,

Then I'll reach inside and find and give you all the sweetness that I have.

At this point in my life.

The bottom of the page read:

Aya,

Now you know the truth. I won't fault you for never wanting to see me again. I won't judge you or think less of you for hating me. I hope that someday, you can forgive me for being such a coward. I love you.

Yohji

Aya sat for a few moments, letting the rest of his tears fall. Then he headed back upstairs to the unforgiving emptiness of their room. Aya had never fully moved in and Yohji had already moved out.

He finished packing without thought, just going through the motions. He closed up the cabin on auto-pilot.

Settling behind the wheel of the Porsche, all he could think was `I failed.' Fujimiya Aya, Abyssinian, who always completed his mission, failed.

Not only was Yohji not coming home better, he wasn't coming home at all.

With that thought, he felt the flame of Ran's love, Aya's hope, and Abyssinian's grim determination sputter and grow dim.

Yohji was gone.

But not dead.

As long as one chance remained, he would not give up.

Not now. Not ever.

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I do not own Cliff's Notes.