Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction / Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Red Shaman ❯ Hold On Loosely ( Chapter 23 )

*sigh* Don't own it. Wish I did. Just borrowing for my personal and hopefully other's amusement.

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Hold on loosely.

But don't let go.

If you cling too tightly.

You're gonna lose control.

 

“Damn it, Aya. You have the worst timing in the known universe. You know that, don't you?” Yohji complained kicking his boots off and leaning against the door of the room he was currently staying in. “You always wanna talk when I'm too tired to think.”

 

“Can you listen?” Aya asked.

 

Yohji shrugged. “Sure, I can do that. Don't mind if I fall asleep in the middle of it though,” he yawned and stretched. Then started peeling off the leather vest he was still wearing from the previous night. “I really need a shower. I smell like smoke and booze. But I'm too damn tired right now.”

 

“Yohji, if you try to do that, you really aren't going to get any sleep. I can guarantee it.”

 

“Do what?” he asked, shrugging out of the vest and tossing it to the floor. Then pulling one of the side ties on the pants before giving up the struggle of trying to unlace them and flopping face first onto the bed.

 

Aya's mouth had suddenly gone dry and he couldn't seem to form a coherent thought at that moment much less a sentence.

 

“What did you want to tell me, Aya?” Yohji mumbled, his face half in the pillow.

 

“IjustwantedtosayI'msorryabouttheothernight,” he said before bolting out the door.

 

Yohji rolled over and stared at the closed door. “Che, atamagaokashii,” he said, shaking his head.

 

Aya leaned against the wall for a few moments, breathing heavily. Yohji needed to sleep. He hadn't slept in the last twenty four hours. It would be incredibly rude to keep him awake. When he woke up they needed to sit down and very calmly have an extremely long talk about their relationship. Relationship? He wasn't even sure if they actually had one outside of work. He wanted it to be more but he just couldn't blurt something like that out when Yohji was half asleep. Not to mention half naked. The half naked was what had nearly had him pouncing on the man and sleep be damned.

 

He was suddenly and thoroughly disgusted with his own cowardice. He had treated the man badly due to his own insecurities. He had screamed at him out of embarrassment and refused to listen to anything he said out of stubbornness. Yohji at least deserved a real apology from him. Then they would talk about other things.

 

“Scheisse,” he mumbled to himself. He'd have to remember to gleefully stab Schuldig for inadvertently adding the word to his vocabulary. “Godverdomme,” that was Sunny's contribution. “Damnu air,” was from the madman, who wasn't quite so mad anymore. Good old fashioned American “Fuck” was from Crawford and Star. Skye had never sworn in the time he'd known her. At least not that he'd heard. He presumed it was because she was too much of a lady for that. There was a string of other words from Goddess that he couldn't pronounce and didn't understand, though he knew they must be bad. You could always tell when someone was swearing, no matter what the language was.

 

This train of thought was not helping his current predicament. Think cool, soothing waters. Think cold mountains. Think Hokkaido in the winter. Hell, think Emperor Hirohito in his underwear. Just do not think about your teammate sprawled across the bed like some x-rated version of a hedonistic pagan god come to Earth. Too late.

 

“This is torture,” he mused aloud. Distraction, he needed a major distraction. He thought he might have found it when he heard the training room door close further down the hall. A sparring match would take his mind off of disturbing Yohji's sleep. He'd just see if whoever was in there wanted a partner for a little while. That would help.

 

He heard Star's voice. Laughing and annoyingly clear in his head. Just keep telling yourself that, baby doll.

 

He grimaced slightly. It was bad enough he was in a house full of people who could get inside your head. It was doubly bad when they could successfully take your head off if they didn't like what they found there. He sighed and walked to the training room. The music inside was fast paced but not ear drum killing heavy metal the Red Shaman team usually preferred when training. He opened the door and had just stepped inside the threshold when he realized who was there and froze.

 

He noticed that the mess from the other day she and Farfarello, no, Jeirn, had been sparring had been cleaned up. The blue markings were still faintly visible on her. She stood in the middle of the training room floor and was . . . dancing? It took him a minute or so to realize what he was looking at. He had been caught up in the grace of her movements and hadn't recognized the power in them for a moment. Nor had it registered she was holding a sword in each hand. He suddenly realized that he was watching a saber dance, probably in its first and purest form. It seemed as natural to her as breathing had once been. He supposed that he and the rest of Weiss and Schwarz for that matter should be more than a little freaked out that the people they were working with were dead. From what he understood, Goddess had been dead for several thousand years.

 

His eyes widened as several things clicked into place all at once. Her name, the one Jeirn or Farfarello or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself now, had used. Edana. He knew that name. He knew it from studying Western mythology all those years ago. He had originally thought he codename of Goddess was a bit pretentious but it made perfect sense now. It explained why she could disarm him in less than two seconds. It explained why she could dangle him off the floor with only two fingers. It explained why she could bring Omi literally back from the dead. It explained why Sunny, Star and Skye were loyal to her. Why she had taken Ghost in without a second thought. Why she still scared Schuldig nearly out of his mind most days, though he would never admit to it. Why she exuded such power.

 

Her voice brought him out of his musings. “Ran, are you planning on standing there and staring at me all day?”

 

“No. I was just thinking.”

 

“About?” she prompted.

 

“I think I know who you really are,” he said cautiously.

 

“You think so? Do tell,” she said, sheathing the swords and walking over to him.

 

He took a deep breath. “When I studied Western Mythology there was a little known and long buried story I came across. It was concerning someone named Edana. Which means little fire.”

 

“I know what it means. Go on,” she urged him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He sat as well.

 

“Evidently during this period of time there was a lot of crossover between the Norse people and the early Celts. This apparently included some of their gods. The story goes that Edana was the daughter of what was then the Pictish tribal shaman and one of the Norse gods.”

 

“Not so unusual. There are many stories that include gods taking human form and sometimes even marrying human beings,” she said.

 

“The story tells that the god who fathered her was particularly fond of her. So he granted her power beyond what a normal demi-goddess would have had. It said that she was trained in the way of the priests until she turned nine.”

 

“Really? What happened then?”

 

“The war goddess of the Celts came for her and trained her as one of her own. It was said that she served as an avatar to the goddess in certain battles. She could lay waste to half of an army in less than an hour.”

 

“Yes. The avatar of a war goddess would most likely be able to do that.”

 

“She had two consorts, husbands, lovers, whatever. She had eight children by them, four of them survived to adulthood. She also had one adopted son. Whom she trained in both warfare and the shamanistic traditions.”

 

“Interesting. What happened to her?”

 

“She was cursed by several people. Orchestrated by one man but carried out by others because she was too strong for only one to overcome. Her adopted son swore that he would come back to her in every lifetime he was reborn to serve as her second. Any of this sounding familiar so far?”

 

“Let me tell you something about a life, for want of a better word, as long as mine has been. I've watched truth become embellished until it was almost unrecognizable. Heard that truth become a tale to be told on long winter nights. Known that tale to become legend. The legend to become myth. Most myths were based on a real human being at some point in time. Generally one who was extraordinary for his or her timeframe. Just because the name and some of the twists to the tale match, it doesn't mean I'm this person.”

 

He got up and gave her a deep bow. “Forgive me. I meant no insult.”

 

“None was taken. I was merely pointing it out to you.”

 

“I understand,” he said, turning to walk out the door.

 

“Ran.”

 

He turned to face her again. “Yes?”

 

“I know you think you love Yohji,” she began. She held up a hand for silence when he started to protest. “But you need to sort out how much is what you really feel and how much is guilt for the other night because you think you used him. You've always struck me as a direct and honest person when it comes to nearly everything. Everything you do or say seems to come directly from the heart. I have a deep respect for that trait in you. Even when you and I disagree. You need to be honest with yourself and then with him. I'm sure you recognize the term “hold on loosely”.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It applies in life as well as training, Ran. Make sure you remember it.”

 

He smiled slightly. “I'll do that,” he said before walking out the door almost bumping into Watari as he was coming in.

 

Watari smiled as the door swung shut behind Aya. “Been dispensing the wisdom of the ages to a new generation, koishii?”

 

“Hardly,” she said, levering up from the floor. She walked over and wrapped herself around him. “I must be getting old.”

 

“I don't think so. I kind of consider you to be like an exceptionally fine wine.”

 

“Hmmm. Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said, stretching up to kiss him.

 

He pulled back and smiled at her. “Much as I'd love to stay here all day and snuggle with you. I think I'm going to head back home soon,” he said. “Are you coming too? Sei will be on the hunt of both of us by this point.”

 

“Probably. I'm missing my other husband. It just doesn't feel right with only the two of us in one bed.”

 

“Now you know how we feel when you're gone.”

 

“There you two are,” came a voice from behind Watari. Blaze leaned sideways and looked around him.

 

“Speak of the shadow master and he arrives. Punctual as always, love,” she said, hugging and kissing him.

 

“I told you I was going to be here,” Watari said, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

 

“When?” Tatsumi asked, looking over the top of Blaze's head.

 

“Right after you told me to leave you alone because you had paperwork to do and before you started swearing,” he said grinning.

 

“I do not swear.”

 

“Yes you do. Vehemently and often. Come on. I want brunch,” Blaze said.

 

“I don't have any American money on me,” Tatsumi started to protest.

 

Blaze sighed and rolled her eyes. “I'll buy,” she said grabbing Watari by a handful of hair and Tatsumi by the tie she dragged them both through the door and downstairs.

 

“I see the beast of the East finally came to find his matrimonial partners,” Schuldig said upon seeing Tatsumi with Blaze and Watari.

 

Tatsumi glared at him and Schuldig restrained the urge to flop back on the couch and scream “Take me now!” Partially because he knew Blaze would either kill him or laugh herself sick. He settled for fanning himself with his hand and saying “Is it hot in here, or is it just him?”

 

Watari chuckled and dragged Tatsumi out the door before he could register what Schuldig had just said. Blaze waved to Schuldig and Crawford, who was hiding behind the paper.

 

“I'll be back this evening. Bye, boys.”

 

Schuldig flopped back onto the couch after they'd left. “Mein Gott!! That man makes me like a compass near North,” he said.

 

Crawford rustled the paper in an annoyed sort of way. “I thought you were dating someone.”

 

“He is,” Skye said, coming into the living room. “But that doesn't mean he's suddenly gone blind. Tatsumi is impressive.”

 

“And an evil bastard.”

 

Crawford made an annoyed noise.

 

“Don't worry. We think you're an evil bastard too, Brad,” Schuldig said.

 

Skye laughed and Schuldig wrapped both arms around her then dragged her over the back of the couch onto his lap. She squealed and batted at him playfully.

 

“Stop that, you bad boy.”

 

“Proud of it, too.” He wound his arms around her tighter. “Hello, beautiful. Do you want to go to dinner before I go out on assignment tonight?”

 

Before Skye could answer Crawford put the paper down and got to his feet. “I'm going out. I'll be back later,” he said before stalking out and slamming the front door behind him.

 

“Wonder what his problem is?” Skye asked.

 

They both burst out laughing.

 

***************************Author's Notes*****************************************

The song at the beginning of this chapter is “Hold On Loosely” by 38 Special.