Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Are You Steady Now? ❯ Steady as She Goes ( Chapter 7 )

 

“Are You Steady Now?”

Part 7: Steady as She Goes

By: Omni-sama

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Ratings, disclaimers, etc. found in first chapter

 

Quick notes: Schuldig phrases names the western way, given-family, instead of the Japanese way of family-given. Just so you know the order isn't accidentally screwed up in those instances.

mune= term for the dull side of a sword (the part that's on the inside of the arch of a katana)

genkan=entryway in houses in Japan (and some other Japanese buildings), where one removes his shoes before fully entering the house.

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Yohji had come to almost expect something surrealistic to happen every few minutes. Even so, he had to admit that there were few things more surreal than coming face to face with your own grave. There was nothing special about it, just a simple monument amongst a small forest of nearly identical markers. Looking around, he noticed that he was the only Kudou in the area. His grave also looked rather neglected, with no remains of incense and appearing as if no one had ever come to clean the site in loving memory.

 

“Take heed, Scrooge! This is your future!” Schuldig warned with a dramatically spooky voice as if he were impersonating a spirit. Then the redhead let out a thoughtful little hum and dropped the act. “Although, this is everyone's future. We all gotta die someday. But this is your past, actually. Which covers the ghost of Christmas past and future all in one go. Only have the present left to worry about.”

 

“The date's wrong,” Yohji commented with an almost detached voice, ignoring whatever characters Schuldig was alluding to. “It's only been about a year since I lost my memory. This says Kudou Yohji's been dead for longer.”

 

“You have,” responded Schuldig simply. “You died when Asuka died. Then you were born again as a murderous florist.”

 

Yohji felt a strange little smirk tug at his lips, his eyes still staring dazedly at the monument as if he were truly seeing his own dead body. “So we really were florists?”

 

“Only when you weren't killing.”

 

“That's a strange cover.” Green eyes turned away from the stone, needing to look at something—anything—but the engraved name.

 

“You don't have to tell me! It gets better, though. You guys had codenames that were cat breeds.” The humor was evident in Schuldig's tone, as well as a few faint traces of nostalgia.

 

“Cat breeds?” His eyes wandered around, taking in the tall concrete wall surrounding the graveyard, the trees that twisted in that way only graveyard trees seem to do, and the large black Tokyo crows perching on random monuments.

 

“Yep. You were Balinese. What's even funnier is that the name of your flower shop was something about a kitten in the house.” Yohji could feel Schuldig's eyes on him, and somehow knew the man was studying him intently. He was probably even reading Yohji's mind. The thought made Yohji feel uncomfortably naked, and his arms wrapped around his torso protectively.

 

“Why did you take me here?” Yohji finally asked, his comfort level having steadily declined from the moment he'd seen the grave.

 

“To show you something.”

 

“I gathered that. But why?”

 

When he felt those blue eyes stop boring into him, Yohji turned to face Schuldig. The German was looking at the grave now, as if it was incredibly interesting. He wasn't sure how many minutes ticked by while the only sounds to be heard were the crows and the cars and the wind. “I'm not saying it's impossible for you to reclaim your life as this Kudou,” Schuldig said at last, his eyes still on the cold stone. “I'm just saying…it might be more difficult to. You have another identity with the same name that was created after this one died. The ID in your wallet, the bank account…they belong to the second Kudou. You only have that identity because you worked for Kritiker.”

 

“Kriti—”

 

“The organization that Takatori, Fujimiya, and myself work for. The organization that employed you as a florist and a killer,” explained Schuldig. There was another brief pause before he continued, “It's not the kind of organization that one can easily retire from. Your memory loss provided you with an out. There's a bigger choice to be made than whether or not you should be with Fujimiya.”

 

“What do you mean?” There had been a shift in Schuldig's entire demeanor that concerned Yohji. Suddenly things seemed far more serious, far more dangerous. Fear played cat's cradle with his guts, and he suddenly wanted to run away.

 

“This could be your future far sooner than necessary. You've learned a lot about your past these last couple days. You're also starting to remember things. These things make you a potential security risk.”

 

“So what's my choice?”

 

“The choice is that you can either join Kritiker again, or…” Schuldig nodded towards the monument to finish his sentence, which it did despite being the silent stone that it was.

 

“You want me to go back to killing?”

 

Schuldig looked back at Yohji, studying his eyes in that unnerving way of his. “Would you rather go back to your boring desk job? What have you seriously got going for you out in the normal world? Monotony. Answer me something, Kudou. Were you happy with your life as Ryou?”

 

Yohji frowned and looked away from Schuldig's eyes. “There are other things I can do.”

 

“Not with no official identity. Well, nothing legal you can do.”

 

Considering Schuldig's words, Yohji realized the other man was right. In this modern age of background checks and government-issued identification, it was difficult for someone to get by making an honest living while lacking a legal name and number. Most likely, it would prove even more difficult for a man with no memories. “So it's literally kill or be killed, huh?”

 

“There's a third choice, too,” offered Schuldig, his blue eyes still piercing through Yohji's clothes and flesh to stare at something hidden deep within. “You could always become Ryou again. I could make you forget these past couple of days. Make you forget ever having found Fujimiya again. Then you can return to your monotony and your Asuka, blissfully oblivious of the life you left behind.”

 

Blissfully? Before he met Ran at the bar, he had been miserable. The very thought of returning to that kind of existence bothered him, though he was also disturbed by Schuldig's statement that the telepath had the ability to do that. Something Ran had told him last night suddenly came to mind, and with a start he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before that moment. Why had he so easily and carelessly let so much of his guard down around Schuldig? “Ran thinks you might have been the cause of my amnesia when I was at the hospital. Either you or drugs. But he suspects Takatori is behind it.”

 

Schuldig smiled at that, the amusement barely able to cover up the dark expression that had come over his face. “He's a bright man, that Fujimiya.”

 

Yohji's body tensed, though he really wondered if he'd get very far if he ran. “So he was right?”

 

“I didn't say that, did I? I said he was a bright man.” Schuldig, Yohji had come to learn, was frustratingly cryptic the vast majority of the time. It was as if the man knew everything, and knew he knew everything, and decided it was exceedingly amusing to emphasize everyone else's ignorance.

 

With an exasperated sigh, Yohji looked away, watching as a crow landed on a tree branch and stared back at him. “How long do I have to think about this? I mean, this is a pretty important decision.”

 

“I'll give you ten minutes. Fifteen if you give me a kiss.”

 

Yohji looked back to Schuldig with a start. “Are you serious?!”

 

“Yes,” replied the redhead without even blinking, an evil little smirk on his lips. “I quite enjoyed the kiss earlier.”

 

“I meant about the time, Schuldig. Why the hell do I have to answer right this minute?”

 

“Not right this minute,” corrected Schuldig as he lifted up his arm to examine his watch. “You still have nine minutes to go.”

 

While part of his mind panicked, there was another part—the part that had remained surprisingly rational earlier, as well—that was setting out all the information, piecing clues together, and coming up with a realization that shot dread down his spine. He froze at the sensation, his green eyes widening in shock as they stared at the other man with new insight. “That's why you're here. No matter what I choose, you're equipped to handle it. Anyone could kill me or take me to wherever I need to go to get reinstated in the organization, but you're the only one who could instantly turn me back into Ryou.”

 

“You're a bright man, too. Always suspected you were.” Schuldig's eyes were unreadable, and an empty smile stretched his lips. “You have five minutes.”

 

His mind raced, trying to reason out the pros and the cons to each choice, and trying to find some unmentioned fourth choice that would keep him from damning himself as bad as all of the other choices.

 

“Time's ticking, Kudou. Remember, you can buy yourself some more if you give me a kiss. Hmmm… Maybe you could seduce me and win yourself even more time.”

 

He did his best to ignore Schuldig and focus on the problem at hand. Death, murder, or monotony. To be honest, the monotony option held the least cons. He wouldn't be killing anyone, he wouldn't be dead. But…he wouldn't have… “Aya…” The word left his lips on a breath, and he hadn't even been conscious of the fact he'd said it. It wasn't until he saw Schuldig's eyes change, curiosity briefly flashing across them, that Yohji realized what he'd said.

 

“That's the first time I've heard you call him by his assumed name,” said Schuldig, the curiosity that had flashed across his eyes leaving traces in his voice. There was a pause, where both men stared at each other in silence. Yohji's face displayed shock and confusion, while Schuldig's displayed intrigued focus. Once again Yohji felt distinctly naked in front of that gaze. “I see,” the telepath said after a short while. “You've made your choice.”

 

Motion from below caused Yohji to drop his eyes from Schuldig's face. He watched with growing horror as Schuldig slowly lifted one hand and reached into his coat, a motion that Yohji was quick to recognize from films as going for a holstered gun. His heart caught in his throat as the arm quickly pulled back, the hand becoming visible again in a flash of gleaming black. It took him a moment to realize that the black item in Schuldig's hand was too small to be a firearm of any sort. Schuldig chuckled with malicious amusement as he flipped the cellular phone open and punched a couple of buttons to initiate the speed dial. Yohji quickly snapped his attention back to Schuldig's face, and glared hard at the smirking redhead.

 

Schuldig responded to the glare by widening his smirk to a grin as he lifted the phone to his ear. There was barely a second before whoever he was calling picked up. “Hello, honey,” Schuldig greeted the person on the line with a sickeningly sweet voice. “How's my snuggle bunny doing today?”

 

Yohji blinked at the words and voice, until he realized it was probably just more of Schuldig's jokes.

 

“What was that? I'm sorry, dear, I can't hear you. You'll have to speak up, my adorable sugar bear.” There was a pause as the person on the other end replied loud enough for even Yohji to be able to hear. Well, he heard the voice, at least. The words were harder to make out, but the voice most certainly sounded loud and annoyed. Schuldig heaved a heavy sigh before replying. “Anyone ever tell you that you're about as fun as running head-first into a brick wall? Seriously, Brad, you need to get laid or something. It's been a while, but I'm still willing to help you out in that department again if you'd like. Hm? Really now, asking about another man while I'm trying to get you to have sex with me is quite rude. My prospective partners today seem to be making a habit of thinking of other men…”

 

Diverting his gaze, Yohji felt a little uncomfortable from listening in on someone else's conversation and also being a rather embarrassing part of that conversation.

 

“No, we didn't. It's touching to hear you're jealous, though.” The voice on the phone got loud again for a few seconds, causing Schuldig to chuckle. “I'll get to the point, then. He's chosen.”

 

Still keeping his eyes off of Schuldig and wandering aimlessly off towards his right, Yohji listened carefully. Well, he hadn't stopped listening, really. It's just that he actually gave a damn about this part of the conversation, especially since he didn't recall voicing a choice.

 

“You were wrong, though,” continued Schuldig. “He chose Ryou.”

 

Yohji's head snapped back up and he stared at Schuldig in horror. Had he? He was thinking about it, sure, but he hadn't really decided… No! He didn't want to be Ryou again. He didn't want that life. He didn't want to forget Ran.

 

Schuldig was smirking at him, his blue eyes instantly locking with Yohji's green. “You don't believe me, Brad? Seriously, you can't be right all the time. Why would he want to go back to being a killer? His other choice would be death, and he's not terribly suicidal.” The person on the other line said something that must have been rather long, because Schuldig fell silent. In that silence, Yohji was never once able to pull his eyes away from the other man's gaze. Also, Schuldig's expression didn't change a bit, his smirk and intent stare almost eerie. “Then you didn't even need me to call you, you cocky bastard. If you want me to indulge you and your ego by calling just to reaffirm what you already know and tell you how fucking wonderful you are, you can at least play along for a little bit when I'm trying to fuck with you and the kitten.”

 

What? Confused, Yohji was finally able to break free of whatever spell he'd fallen under while looking into Schuldig's eyes. The redhead's expression changed finally, the smirk morphing into a sadistically pleased smile.

 

“I'm going to take him to Takatori now. If you want to join, that'd be peachy. After all, you know he's more likely to listen to you than to me. Good then. I'll see you soon.” With that, he snapped the phone closed and grinned at Yohji. “C'mon, it's time for you to start your fourth life. Only five to go after this, so you better be careful.”

 

Feeling a little shaken, Yohji followed Schuldig back to the car and slipped into the passenger seat of the sleek, black Mercedes-Benz CLS 55 AMG. Schuldig was already starting the car by the time Yohji was reaching for his seatbelt. “So we're going to see Takatori now?” he asked the telepath as they pulled away from the curb and headed off down the road.

 

“Of course. We need to resurrect Yohji Kudou from the dead, and Takatori is the one who holds the mantras needed to perform such a feat of necromancy.”

 

Yohji made a small noise of agreement or acknowledgement, and proceeded to stare blankly at the dash for a few minutes. Then a curious thought came to him. It poked at his brain and nagged at him, forcing him to listen to it until it caused a ripple effect of dread and potential fear through his entire being. Schuldig must have sensed it, because Yohji noticed out of the corner of his eye that the other man was casting him quick glances while attempting to appear focused on the road. Not wanting Schuldig to pry into his mind, he decided to voice the concern. “That Brad guy is the one that gave you the orders, right? Takatori just sent you off to find me. And, Takatori also wants me to stay as Ryou, most likely, so he certainly wouldn't have suggested you give me any other choices. This Brad is also the one I saw at the hospital that one time, too, you said. The one who convinced Takatori to let me keep the sword. Ran also seems to know him… Just who the hell is he, and why would he want me to have the choice of returning to who I was?”

 

For a while, Schuldig merely offered one of his regular smirks, his blue eyes locked mostly on the road and sparing only fleeting glances Yohji's way. Eventually he released a chuckle and shook his head, causing his long fiery hair to dance about his face and neck. “His name is Brad Crawford, and he was leader of the team I was on before joining Kritiker. I suppose you probably suspected that he had a connection to my past affiliations, and that's also why you're a bit concerned. He works for Kritiker now as well, and believe me when I say that he has absolutely no interest in aiding the side we used to work for. If anything, he's been working his ass off attempting to eradicate the lingering remnants of that organization. That's also the answer to the question you just asked.”

 

“What is?”

 

“That he's trying to wipe the rest of Eszett—that's the organization we worked for—out.”

 

Yohji turned to blink at Schuldig in confusion. “And that has to do with my question, how?”

 

“You wanted to know why it was he wanted you to have the choice of returning to your old life,” replied Schuldig matter-of-factly.

 

“So, what? I'm the key to wiping out Eszett?” Part of Yohji was starting to wonder if he was just some character in a book or something somewhere, and he was about to be told that his destiny as a great hero awaits.

 

Schuldig snorted. “Not likely.” Ok, so scratch the great hero part… “It would just be beneficial if Weiß got back together. Or, well…mostly back together. Takatori's got a new position in the organization now, so I doubt he'd demote himself back to agent.” So Yohji was going to be teaming up with Ran again? They'd get to work together—possibly live together!—again? He was starting to like this choice more and more. “Although,” Schuldig continued, breaking up Yohji's happy musings, “you'll also be teaming up with a couple of members of Schwarz, my old team, in order to create an entirely new team.” A most devilish grin came to the telepath's face, and Yohji felt a strange sinking sensation in his stomach.

 

“You mean you and I will also be on the same team?”

 

“Yep. Won't that be fun?” Schuldig exclaimed with a dramatic wag of his eyebrows.

 

“Is it too late for you to shoot me?” moaned Yohji as he sank back into the soft Napa leather upholstery of the luxury coupe. Schuldig tossed his head back and laughed.

 

----

 

By the time they were in the elevator heading towards Takatori's office, Yohji was starting to feel slightly nervous. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to handle Takatori now, after learning the truth. Should he confront him with anger? With sadness? Should he even confront him at all? Maybe he could just let Schuldig do all the talking, since they were here to reinstate Yohji as an assassin, and not for Yohji to talk to Takatori about the lies and the truth. He decided that last option sounded the most appealing. In all honesty, he was tired of confrontations and long, drawn-out explanations. There would be plenty of time later to talk to Takatori about his motives behind the elaborate deception. Plenty of time later to get angry with him.

 

The elevator binged and the doors slid smoothly open. Kurosawa Himeko looked up from her desk to greet them, only to stop short in mild shock. “You found him! Thank goodness. How are you, Itou-san? We were very worried.” She quickly stood and walked around the desk, heading straight towards Yohji, concern very evident in her eyes.

 

“Kudou is fine,” Schuldig answered in Yohji's stead.

 

Kurosawa looked to the German with a start, then narrowed her eyes and hissed at him with the same angry, warning voice she had the other day when Yohji had visited the office. “Schuldig…”

 

“It's alright. He knows,” was Schuldig's casual response. Yohji felt an arm snake around his waist, a hand resting on his hip. To anyone else, he was sure it probably looked like some form of sexual harassment, but for some reason he felt as if it was a form of protection. As such, he did not protest the action, and allowed Schuldig to lead him towards the double doors of Takatori's office. Kurosawa simply stood there, staring after them with worried and sad eyes.

 

When they entered the office, Takatori looked up at them with a jolt, a black phone receiver to his ear. “Nothing to worry about. We found him,” he quickly mumbled into the phone, keeping his voice down as if Yohji and Schuldig wouldn't be able to hear him. “Aa. I'll call you back.” Finished, he set the receiver down and offered the men a smile. Behind him, Naoe remained his usual statuesque self, but Yohji could swear that the silent young man was casting knowing glances at Schuldig.

 

“Thank god,” Takatori exclaimed, letting relief flow with his voice. “I was very worried when Asuka-san called me last night, Ryou. Where were you?”

 

Even though he had decided that he'd hold off on getting angry, he couldn't help the emotion from bubbling up. It was as if every word Takatori said stoked some fire deep in Yohji's chest, until his blood was simmering. “Learning the truth. Or, at least part of it,” he replied, feeling his jaw clench up a little as he spoke. He took a deep breath and let his eyes fall to Takatori's desk, unable to look at the man anymore without feeling the urge to punch him.

 

Silence fell over the room, and it stretched out far longer than Yohji thought it would. Curious, he glanced back up at Takatori, only to find that the younger man was glaring daggers at Schuldig. A glance at Schuldig revealed a smug smirk and an apathetic gaze directed towards Takatori. As the silence stretched on, Yohji reasoned that the two were most likely engaged in a mental conversation. Annoyance quickly joined the anger. “Hey, you know… It's rude to whisper, so I'm sure it's even worse to carry on a conversation telepathically.”

 

Takatori's frown grew, Schuldig's lips broke into a grin, and Yohji could have sworn he saw Naoe smirk for a second. “Forgive me,” offered Takatori, but it sounded as though it was inspired more from mandatory politeness than true remorse.

 

“I was just filling him in on everything,” Schuldig explained, removing his hand from Yohji's hip. Yohji blinked, having totally forgotten that the German had still been holding him until that moment. It bothered him a little to realize that he missed the contact as soon as it left him.

 

“And I was just reminding Schuldig who he's supposed to be taking orders from now,” growled Takatori.

 

“What are you going to do? Give me a spanking?” The grin that Schuldig flashed Takatori actually had Yohji's previously heated blood run cold. “I dare you to try. Without Nagi on your arm, you're powerless. And, we mustn't forget who Nagi's first allegiance is to.”

 

Takatori turned slightly pale, but he did his best to cover up any sign of having been intimidated. Naoe remained silent, but he was locking eyes with Schuldig now, a very stern expression on his handsome face. “Now now, children. Play nice.” Surprised by a new voice, Yohji quickly spun around to see a bespectacled man with black hair, dressed sharply in an immaculate gray suit. He seemed somewhat familiar, but Yohji couldn't quite place him.

 

“Finally! Took your damn sweet time, Brad.” Despite his words, Schuldig was grinning happily, a gleam in his eye Yohji hadn't seen before.

 

So this was the infamous Brad Crawford? Which means this was also the same man he saw at the hospital. But… He looked different now, for some reason. “That's not the man from the hospital,” Yohji spoke up in confusion. “His hair's not gray, and he's not wearing a monocle.”

 

“Thank Christ!” exclaimed Schuldig with a jovial grin. “God, I hated that look. I mean, I know you wanted to try a new image, but that was a horrid look for you, Brad.”

 

Crawford's smile was decidedly darker than any Yohji had seen on Schuldig, and as he pressed his glasses further up his nose with his middle finger, the light reflected from the glass in a fashion Yohji found somewhat ominous. This man is dangerous, something whispered in his mind. Then the thin lips of the dark-haired American parted, and Yohji did his best to focus on his words and not let the strange apprehension get to him. “I think my original look will prove to be more effective in the near future,” he explained.

 

“Well, whatever the case, I'm glad to see the return. The other look reminded me of an elder English butler or something. Totally not your style, Braddy-boy.” As Schuldig talked, Brad walked further into the room, heading towards them. When Brad drew close, Schuldig shifted as if he were about to move away from Yohji and over towards the other man, but the American brushed past until he stood beside Takatori's desk.”

 

“Persia,” Brad greeted the young executive. It took Yohji a moment to realize that Persia, besides being a former nation, was a cat breed. His conversation with Schuldig earlier about old codenames returned to him, and he clung to that in order to make some type of sense out of the label.

 

“Oracle,” Takatori deadpanned back. “I should have known you were behind this.” Seething, Takatori rose from his chair and glared up at the much taller man. “You forget your place, Crawford.”

 

“Is this any way to treat a man who's attempting to do you a favor?” replied Brad with nothing but calm.

 

“Favor? Favor!? You call having Schuldig attempt to reinstate someone I've been trying to protect and keep free from this life a favor!?”

 

“Yes.” Yohji really was quite impressed with Crawford's calm. He got the impression that the man was not easily rattled.

 

“And why do you think that, Crawford?” Takatori was doing his best to regain his composer, but it was obvious that he was nowhere near his opponent's level.

 

Crawford removed his glasses and looked at them to make sure they were free of dust or smudges, as if he was growing bored with the current conversation, despite it just starting. “A vision, of course. Why else?”

 

“A vision?” Takatori repeated, skepticism thick in his voice.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And this vision told you that Kudou should be brought back into a life that made him miserable?”

 

Satisfied that his glasses were clean, Crawford put them back on and stared at Takatori for a couple of seconds. The expression on Crawford's face seemed to ask if Takatori truly believed what he had just said. Eventually, he raised one well-groomed black eyebrow and turned to face Yohji. “You made the choice yourself, did you not? To come back.” Yohji quickly nodded, not liking the feel of the other man's attention directed his way, and wanting it quickly diverted. “Why on earth would you choose to return to a life that you hated? Is the life Takatori established for you not satisfactory enough?”

 

Yohji glanced at Takatori, seeing that the younger man was far more interested in his answer than Crawford was. Even so, his eyes remained mostly locked on the American's, hidden as they were behind the gleaming glasses. “As Ryou I was never happy. Never, that is, unless I was around Ran. I may not be able to remember everything from my past, but I think I might have come to terms with things towards the end…before the amnesia. I don't know. All I know is that…the thought of a life without Ran terrifies me.”

 

“But just so that you could be with him, you're willing to become a killer?” Takatori asked, desperation showing through his voice.

 

Realizing it sounded foolish, Yohji lowered his eyes and considered it once more. “Yes,” he whispered after a few moments. “I'd rather live out my nightmares than an empty lie.”

 

“That doesn't make any sense!” objected Takatori as he slammed his fist on the desk, causing Crawford to look at him with mild amusement.

 

“Kudou's choice aside,” the calm American interjected, “how about we look at things another way? Schuldig, you gave him three options, correct?” The focused brown eyes fell on the redhead.

 

With his smirking mask, Schuldig nodded. “Yep. Ryou, death, or Kudou. He chose Kudou, as we just established.”

 

“Yes, quite.” Crawford looked back to Takatori, looking as if it was finally time for him to take the situation seriously. “In actuality, Kudou only had two choices—returning to Kritiker or dying.”

 

Takatori seemed shocked and outraged, gasping first and then gritting his teeth and practically snarling. “If Schuldig had killed him—”

 

“I wasn't talking about Schuldig executing him. I'm saying that even if he returned to his life as Ryou, he would die.” A heavy silence fell over the room after those words, Takatori and Yohji staring agape at Crawford while Schuldig and Nagi barely even blinked. After pausing for a few moments to let the information sink in, Crawford continued. “Some of the remnants of Eszett are banding together and buying their time until they are strong enough to strike at us. I don't mean `us' as in Kritiker, or as in Japan. I mean us. Schwarz and Weiß—the ones responsible for Eszett's collapse. Of course they have their goals to reestablish Eszett, but one of their top priorities is our demise. The only way to prevent them from succeeding is to regroup and prepare. If Kudou had chosen to restart his life once again instead of returning to his true identity, then he would simply be making himself an easy target. At least as Balinese he knows how to fight. But he would not be the only one to suffer if he had chosen to return to being Ryou. Chances are everyone in this room would also die.”

 

Yohji was very proud of himself for not having snapped from all the information he'd been bombarded with over the past couple of days. At that moment, however, he felt dangerously close to the edge. Things suddenly just took a sharp turn into Seriousville and he didn't have a map. He felt dumbstruck and more than a little frightened. The room was once again plunged into silence. While Yohji had been focused on Crawford, everyone else's attention had been directed at Takatori. Joining the others by switching his attention to the younger man, he found that Takatori's attention had fallen to the desk, his face shadowed and grave.

 

“It's that serious, then?” the young executive asked after what could have been minutes or mere seconds—Yohji wasn't counting. The voice was soft, barely a whisper, and held a mixture of solemnity and grief.

 

“Extremely,” Crawford assured without hesitation. “I've already contacted Farfarello. He'll be in Japan within the week.”

 

The only one to react to that news was Takatori, which led Yohji to believe that the other two already knew. In fact, they'd remained so calm throughout that he'd be willing to bet this was all old news to them. Which made sense, if he thought about it, considering they were evidently all once part of the same team. Upon hearing Crawford's last statement, however, Takatori seemed even more shaken as his head snapped up to look at the American.

 

“Farfarello? I thought you didn't know how to contact him,” he accused, narrowing his eyes at Crawford.

 

“He's my Kudou, I suppose you could say. Only, without the amnesia.” Crawford offered a thin smile. “I thought I'd give him a chance at a better life. He's not entirely insane, but he was on a short road to getting there by living like we do. Calling him back to duty is not something I ever wanted to do. So, yes, it's that serious.”

 

Slowly Takatori's eyes lowered and he once again stared at the desk. Eventually he let out a sigh and practically fell back into his chair like a puppet with its strings cut. “This is timed well, then. Ken's getting out today.” The young man's eyes stared blankly at a document on his desk before he closed them with another sigh. “So you want all of Weiß and Schwarz to team up together into one single team? Is that what you're proposing?”

 

“Yes and no,” replied Crawford as he reached into his blazer to pull out a few sheets of paper that somehow managed to not get crinkled. “I'm proposing that all but you and Nagi team up. For now. Your duties as Persia are far too important for you to regress to Bombay. Nagi's position as your guard is also for the best. Though, things may change in the future, depending. I'm sure Nagi's abilities have not atrophied, but what about yourself?” When he received a dangerous glare from Takatori as a response, Crawford countered with a dry smile and continued, “We'll probably need you both at some point. For now, it will just be three from each team joining forces.” He passed the papers to Takatori, and Yohji assumed they were some type of official documents requesting the merger.

 

Takatori glanced them over before setting them down onto his desk. “And what's this team going to be called? Weiß or Schwarz?”

 

“Neither. I was thinking perhaps Kreuz,” offered Crawford. Yohji blinked at the suggestion. How does combining white and black make cross?

 

“Kreuz?” echoed Takatori, obviously as confused as Yohji. “Why Kreuz?”

 

“It's a cross between two sides. Also, I've noticed that your team in the past seems to bear a certain theme when dressing for battle.” The smirk that came to Crawford's lips was most certainly amusement, with Weiß being the butt of the joke. “I thought perhaps it would be a name that your former teammates would find more comfortable, considering.”

 

After shooting another glare at Crawford, Takatori gave a reluctant nod and looked back at his desk. “Fine. I'll get to work arranging living accommodations for the team. Who will be team leader, though? You or Fujimiya?”

 

Fujimiya? So Ran had been leader of Weiß? Yohji felt inexplicably proud of Ran upon learning that, causing an unconscious smile to play on his lips.

 

“I'll discuss it with Fujimiya, but I think it would be best if I was the leader, considering I'm the one with the visions.” Crawford's answer was free of conceit and delivered with objective rationalization.

 

“That makes sense,” Takatori conceded. “But I want it so that he has to approve everything. If he vetoes it, it will not be done. Understood?”

 

“That's reasonable,” agreed Crawford with a nod. “I'm fine with that.”

 

“Well, if all of this is settled for the most part, Kudou and I will be leaving. He has a lot to do today, you see.” Schuldig's arm draped around Yohji's shoulders and pulled the blond closer. In response, Yohji could only stare silently ahead. Perhaps he was closer to snapping than he thought he was.

 

Crawford nodded, but Takatori frowned and shook his head. “I'd like to speak with Yohji alone for a moment,” demanded Takatori with a tired voice. The arm around Yohji's shoulders slipped away as Schuldig and Crawford silently left the room. Takatori turned to Naoe and motioned for him to go as well. Somewhat surprised, the bodyguard approached his boss' chair and leaned down to whisper something to him. A weak smile flittered across Takatori's lips in response, but he offered no words. Frowning, Naoe followed his former teammates out of the room.

 

Once alone with Takatori, Yohji felt a great uneasiness steal over him. His anger from earlier attempted to bubble back up, accompanied by an irrational nervousness. He guessed this might be what it felt like to be a child awaiting a parent's scolding; though he couldn't say for certain, considering he lacked any memory of his childhood. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Yohji tried to look at anything else in the room besides Takatori's eyes, which he could feel steadily drilling into him. Why did Takatori want to talk to him right this minute? All he wanted to do was leave. The only person he wanted to see right now was Ran. Not Schuldig, not Crawford, and certainly not Takatori.

 

“I'm sorry.” The words startled him, and he allowed his gaze to fall on Takatori, only to find the younger man staring back at him with earnest regret. Silence fell again when Yohji could find no words to formulate any type of coherent response. “You have to realize, though, I was doing it for your own good.”

 

Shaking his head, Yohji turned his eyes away again. He suddenly felt very tired. “Can we talk about this later, please?”

 

“I just thought that you'd want me to explain myself. Surely you have questions…”

 

“I do. Trust me, I do. Just not right now. I'm sick of all the explanations and the five questions that spring from every new answer.” As if to ward off an oncoming headache, Yohji rubbed at his closed eyes and mentally begged Takatori to understand and let him go.

 

“I suppose I understand. Just,” at this Takatori paused, trying to grasp the right words before proceeding. “I don't want you to think that my actions held any ill will.”

 

Suddenly all the nervousness from minutes before vanished, replaced entirely by anger, his temper having been worn short by impatience. “Even your actions towards Ran?” he grit out with an uncharacteristic growl.

 

As if expecting such an attack, Takatori didn't even flinch. Much like Crawford earlier, Takatori projected a sense of unshakable poise. With a simple nod, he replied in a steady voice: “Yes.”

 

“Liar,” Yohji snarled back, disgusted. “It was hurting him, and you damn well know it!”

 

Before replying, Takatori waited for Yohji's temper to simmer down a notch or two. When he judged Yohji had calmed enough, Takatori responded in the same steady voice. “I had hoped that he would find someone else. Someone that would have made him happy.” The implication in those words struck Yohji like a stab in the chest. It shut him up and gave him a strange sense of vertigo. On unsteady feet, he shuffled to one of the chairs in front of the desk and braced himself on its back.

 

Eventually the dizziness faded, but he could still feel a faint pounding in his ears. His mind grew clearer and it was as if something inside of him was urging him onward. “I can understand that. But don't you think that maybe it's his decision to make, not yours? You wanted to keep us apart just because you thought that's what would be best for us.” Letting out a short huff of a laugh, Yohji shook his head and straightened, no longer needing the support of the chair. “I may not remember my reasons for treating him like I did, but there had to be some. Something in this equation doesn't make sense, you know? I'm supposed to be obsessed with some woman named Asuka, but she wasn't the one I've been dreaming about. And if Ran was so miserable with me, why would he still love me as much as he does? Why would he keep all of my things in hope I'd return to him someday? Did you ever stop to think that maybe you didn't know everything there was to know about the two of us? That maybe what you think is best for us really isn't?”

 

Before Takatori could open his mouth to retort, Yohji was slamming the door. Without a word, he grabbed Schuldig by the arm and pulled him into the elevator, ignoring the stunned faces of the other three in the lobby. As an LED above the doors counted down the floors, Yohji took a few steadying breaths and tried to calm his temper. Beside him, Schuldig chuckled but said nothing. Without exchanging a single word, the two exited the elevator together on the garage floor and headed to Schuldig's car. When they pulled out onto the street, Schuldig headed straight towards Shinjuku. It was only after they had stopped in front of the hotel and Yohji was standing on the sidewalk, the car door still open, that the silence between them was broken.

 

“I'll see you soon,” Schuldig offered in parting while holding out a business card. Yohji stared at him for a moment before accepting the card and closing the door.

 

Instead of heading back up to his room, Yohji made his way to the garage housing his car, glad that he'd had the sense to bring his keys with him when he left. It was a long drive to his old apartment, made longer by getting lost a few times. He hadn't been used to getting around Tokyo in a car. At least, not that he could remember. By the time he found his way to the correct neighborhood, it was already heading towards late afternoon. The sun cast everything in a golden hue that made him squint and reach his hand up for a nonexistent pair of sunglasses that for a second he could have sworn were holding his hair back like a headband. But it was just the wind playing tricks with his mind. Just the wind and ghostlike memory.

 

Much to his relief, the apartment was silent and empty, which meant Asuka—no, that wasn't her real name, was it?—wasn't home yet. First he wandered into the bedroom, but when he stared at the closet full of suits, he didn't feel the desire to keep any of them. Looking around, he didn't see anything that he wanted to keep. With a sad little chuckle to himself, he walked out into the living room and over to the only item he intended on taking from this place. “You really were waiting,” he whispered, addressing a man that wasn't there. His fingers played along the hamon, like they had done so many times before. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, so neatly in fact that he worried it might all be a dream. At any moment he might wake up, Asuka sleeping beside him. Her name really would be Asuka, and he would still be Ryou, and Ran would be the friend that he was secretly in love with, and there would be nothing incredible about his life. He would be just another salaryman, just another drone living an empty life in a loveless marriage.

 

No, he told himself as his fingers reached the hilt, he would not allow that. Even if he did wake up and found out that everything about Kudou Yohji and assassins was a dream, he would not allow himself to continue with that pathetic life. If he woke up, he would leave this apartment that never felt like home, he would quit his job, and he would confess to Ran. Hopefully, though, this was not all a dream.

 

“Ryou,” the voice coming from behind him was soft and cautious and forcefully cheerful. “I'm so glad. You had me so worried when you didn't come home.”

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he carefully lifted the katana off its hooks. “I suppose I was too busy learning about how everyone I trusted was lying to me, so I forgot to call.” Too preoccupied with trying to think of something to wrap the sword with, his words lacked the expected bitterness and came out tired and distracted.

 

“I…” There were sounds of a mouth trying to form words unsuccessfully, aborting each attempt before the first syllable could be voiced. “Ryou,” it attempted again, finally able to finish entire words, “let me explain—”

 

“No.” He brushed past her without even looking at her, moving quickly back to the bedroom, making a beeline for the closet. Grabbing the first blazer his hand landed upon, he tugged it free of its hanger and wrapped it around the blade as securely as he could.

 

“But Ryou—” She had followed him, and now she stood in the doorway, blocking his exit.

 

“Stop it.” Finally he faced her, and looked into her eyes, which were wide and worried and glistening with unshed tears. For a second he almost felt bad for her, but the impulse was fleeting. “I don't have the patience to listen to any more explanations right now.”

 

“It's not what you think!” she cried out in desperation. It was so cliché that he almost felt like laughing.

 

“Oh, so you weren't paid to change your name and replace a dead woman from my past?” His tone was bitter and mocking, causing her to flinch and for the moisture to finally escape her eyelids.

 

“To change my name, yes, but never to fall in love with you. I was just supposed to be there for you as a friend—as support. Takatori never ordered me to develop a relationship with you. I thought that we were together because we loved each other. I thought that you proposed to me because you love me and truly want to be my husband. If I was wrong, then you can't possibly accuse me of being the only one who lied.”

 

Unable to continue looking her in the eye, Yohji lowered his gaze. Her engagement ring greeted him, sparkling in the dull light. “I'm sorry,” he finally offered. “It's another reason I should leave. If I stay—if I really marry you—it will be unfair to us both. You deserve someone who can give you the love you need.” Bracing himself, he looked back up at her face. If anything, the pain within those eyes seemed to have intensified. “I hope you can find him. I do.”

 

For several long heartbeats, neither of them moved. Slowly she lowered her head and nodded, raising a hand to wipe away tears. “So, are you returning to the redhead?” she eventually asked with only the barest hint of a tremble to her voice.

 

“You know Ran?” His grip on the bundled sword tightened unconsciously.

 

Her right shoulder came up in a shrug and she sniffed back the rest of her grief. “Not really. I saw him at the hospital, but Takatori told me I wasn't supposed to ever let him see me. He said that my new name combined with how I look would make him mad.” She paused, looking up at him with her face still partially lowered. “He would visit you nearly every day while you were in the coma. Then one day, he brought you red roses. Never came back after that. Takatori told me to remove the roses. Said they'd upset you if you woke up and saw them.”

 

“But I did see them,” Yohji guessed in a whisper as more puzzle pieces clicked within his brain.

 

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a nod. “I was in the process of changing them out when you woke up. I was so worried that I'd messed up. Then you ended up having amnesia… Heh. I remember that I felt a strange sense of relief in that moment. Hated myself for it later, though.”

 

The silence that followed was painfully awkward, but neither made any motion to move or to disrupt it. Just when Yohji felt that he couldn't take it anymore, Rika turned and walked back into the living room. He cautiously followed, curious to see if there was anything else she was going to say, but equally just as eager to get the hell out of there. She had walked over to their small dinner table and was looking at the red roses held within the modest centerpiece vase. With a soft sigh, she pulled one of the roses free and turned to present it to Yohji. “Here. Give this to him. They obviously mean something between you two.”

 

He offered her a sad smile as he took the rose. “I'm sorry,” he repeated lamely. There was nothing else he could think to say. Before another awkward silence could fall, he left, and he never once looked back.

 

---

 

It wasn't until he was on the road into Tokyo that Yohji realized he didn't have a clue as to how to get to Ran's house from there. He considered going back to his hotel in Shinjuku and retracing his steps, but threw that idea out when he realized he had wandered around a while before even going to Shinjuku. At a stoplight, he leaned back in his seat, pressing his hips forward in the air so that he could reach into his back pocket and retrieve Schuldig's business card. That's when he remembered that his phone was still at the hotel. Cursing softly to himself, he scanned the sidewalks for a pay phone, quickly pulling over to park as soon as he found one. After dealing with another session of verbal sparring with Schuldig which started with a cheery “Schuldig's House of Erotic Pleasures; how may I service you?” Yohji finally had the information he needed and was again on his way.

 

When he pulled into Ran's driveway, he was surprised to see a motorcycle parked on one side. He hadn't noticed a motorcycle before, and he didn't understand why Ran would park it outside the garage. No matter. With a heady mixture of excitement, anticipation, and anxiousness, Yohji grabbed Ran's bundled katana and the rose, and then practically ran to the front door.

 

“Yohji?” Ran's eyes were wide and spoke of how unexpected the blond's visit was.

 

“I'm sorry.” The words tumbled out of Yohji's mouth and tripped over each other. “I was upset and confused and I know I was jerking you around a lot last night and this morning, but I think I finally have it all sorted out. Some things have been explained to me, and in a way that helped me realize what's truly important. You know? And so I had to see you again, as soon as possible. I had to tell you… I…” The rush of words trickled to a stop and he felt his cheeks heat as his tongue and gut twisted. This was harder than he thought it would be.

 

Since words were failing him, he fell back on the use of visual aids. Holding out both hands, Yohji presented Ran with the rose in one and the coat-covered katana in the other. Ran's eyes lighted on the rose first, a small smile forming on his lips as he reached out to take it. Then he noticed the other item, and his brows came together in confusion as he tried to figure out what the hell it was. “Oh,” Yohji murmured in embarrassment as he quickly unwrapped the sword and let the ruined jacket fall to the ground. He watched in fascination as Ran went stock still, breath caught in the man's throat.

 

Pale, callused fingers stroked the mune reverently, a slight tremble in their motions. Eventually those fingers reached Yohji's, and they brushed against his skin briefly before gripping the handle and slowly removing it from his grasp. “You don't have to wait anymore,” Yohji whispered, because something about that moment seemed too sacred for normal speech. Ran's dark eyes grew wide again and stared at him in disbelief, as if he was certain that the blond had no idea what he had just implied with his words. Yohji couldn't allow that disbelief. He would have no ambiguity in his intentions. “I love you.” Those words, he felt, were clarification enough.

 

The sword, which had been regarded like a venerated holy relic, fell to the ground with a dull clang as it landed mostly on the jacket, the rose settling not far from it. Before Yohji could worry about them, though, he was distracted by hands gripping his shirt to pull him forward and a mouth crushing into his. The hands kept pulling as the body in front of him started to step backwards into the house, and he was forced to stumble along after it in order to maintain the kiss. He hastily toed his shoes off and stepped up before tripping on the genkan step. Behind him, the door was left wide open, but neither of them cared. Heart racing, Yohji wrapped his arms around Ran, running his hands greedily along the man's back, ass, and thighs. It felt good, so damn good. Most of all, it felt right.

 

“Aya, thanks again for letting me—um…”

 

Yohji snapped his head back, ending the kiss and startling the hands off of his shirt. He looked up, following the voice, and found a young man standing outside of the bathroom door upstairs, dressed only in a pair of jeans and a towel around his neck. His messy dark hair was weighed down with water and it clung to his cheeks and neck. The man looked familiar, and Yohji's mind quickly brought up the photos he had been looking at last night.

 

“Hidaka Ken, right?” Yohji finally asked when it looked like no one else was going to say anything.

 

Instantly the wet man's face brightened with a huge smile and he practically bounded down the stairs. “Yohji! It's great to see you! Omi told me that you wouldn't remember me, but you did! This is great!”

 

Yohji took a step away from Ran out of politeness, but suddenly found himself in the enthusiastic, crushing embrace of Hidaka. With a nervous smile, he gently extricated himself and apologized. “Sorry, but I don't really. I just recognized you from your photograph.” The words caused Hidaka's spirits to visibly drop, but he still managed to smile even though his eyes now looked quite sad.

 

“Oh. I see. Um, sorry about that.” Hidaka made a vague motion with his hands, but Yohji assumed he was referring to the hug. “I just got really excited. I mean, it's been so long since I last saw you… And when I was told that you had amnesia…” Having no way to really describe his feelings, Hidaka merely let his words trail off and let his face and mannerisms fill in the rest.

 

“Were we close?” inquired Yohji in honest curiosity. He knew what Ran had told him last night, but it always helped to get another's opinion on the matter.

 

Hidaka's smile twitched up in the corners for a few fleeting seconds and his eyes seemed to get impossibly sadder. “Yeah,” he confirmed, voice just above a whisper. “We were friends. Like brothers. All of us.” Dark eyes glanced at Ran and the smile twisted into a mildly amused smirk. “Well, you and Aya were more than that, I think. Unless you're into incest.” Hidaka paused to laugh at his own joke, until a thought seemed to come to him which brightened his features once more. “But hey, you two are together again? That's great! I knew Aya would bring you back. If anyone could, it would be Aya.”

 

Yohji turned to look at Ran, smiling softly at the hint of a blush fighting to break free on those pale cheeks. The redhead cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, shooting Hidaka a mild glare before attempting to quickly change the subject. “Ken just got out of prison, and he's staying here for a few days until Takatori has our new housing set up.”

 

“Who's new housing what?” Yohji blinked at Ran in confusion.

 

“I thought you already knew? Crawford told me you were present at the meeting which decided everything.” Ran gave a slight tilt of his head in confusion, brows knitted together.

 

The wheels in Yohji's mind did some quick turning to help him sort stuff out, eventually refreshing him on all that was said at the meeting earlier. “Ah. You mean the new team. I didn't know we'd all actually be living together.” Well, perhaps he knew, but it just hadn't really sunk in. Looking around at Ran's house from where he stood, Yohji felt a bit sad that it would have to be given up.

 

As if reading his mind, Ran placed a hand on his arm and said with an assuring voice, “I was thinking of keeping this place, though. For afterwards, when everything's done.” He smiled at Yohji, and Yohji couldn't help but smile back. In a way, Yohji thought it was a bit ridiculous for him to get so giddy over the idea of Ran keeping the house. After all, it wasn't as though he was necessarily going to be invited to live there. Yet, he also thought of all the things Ran had done for him out of love. It wouldn't be too much to assume that Ran would welcome Yohji as a housemate, he figured.

 

Overcome with a sense of love and affection, the likes of which Yohji had no memory of feeling before, he unconsciously started to lean in towards Ran. Eyes falling half closed and studying Yohji's mouth, Ran began to lean in as well. Right before their lips could touch, Hidaka gave a very loud and obviously fake cough, which seemed to work and snap them both out of their respective dazes. “I'll uh… Go get some of my things from storage,” Ken announced as he started to back away from the couple, an awkward smile in place.

 

“You don't have a shirt on,” observed a skeptical Ran.

 

“I'll just buy one on the way,” assured the brunette as he reached out to the side to grab a wallet and keys from the end table beside the couch. When he reached the entryway, he paused to slip his sneakers onto his bare feet. “And, I think I'll see a movie, too. Yeah! Yeah, I haven't seen one in a year, you know. So, I'll go watch a movie. Maybe two. And get dinner somewhere or something. So um… No need to wait up for me tonight, alright?” Without waiting for a response, he turned to flee through the open door, but stopped short. Yohji watched as the man took a few steps and slowly bent down to retrieve the sword. Eyes locked on the weapon as he held it carefully with one hand cradling the handle and the other cradling the broad side of the blade, Hidaka brought it over to Yohji and held it out. Confused as to why the younger man's attitude suddenly grew more solemn, Yohji reached out and took the offered sword. As soon as the sword was passed, Hidaka's eyes rose to lock with Yohji's, and his expression was a pensive happiness. “Don't' fuck up this time, Kudou.”

 

Then he was gone, closing the door behind him after kicking the suit jacket inside the house. For a moment Yohji stood there staring after him, mind whirling and wondering why he felt like crying.

 

“Yohji.” Ran's voice brought him back to his senses, and he felt the man's hand on his arm once again. “Come on.”

 

He let the sword drop to his side, gripping it firmly with his right hand. Ran took his left and led him up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Inside the door, his hand was released, and he watched as Ran went to his closet and pulled out a black sheath. When Ran approached him again, Yohji held out the sword and let its true owner reclaim it once more. The steel blade which he had spent so many nights examining disappeared into black with the whisper of metal against wood, and the dull clink of the guard meeting the scabbard.

 

“I always thought that it was something very important,” Yohji said softly as he watched Ran hide it away in the closet. After being on ornamental display for a year, it was returning to the shadows as the weapon it was made to be. “Always knew that it belonged to someone else, that it wasn't mine. That its owner was waiting for me to return it…”

 

“Just as your lover was waiting for you to return?” Yohji's attention lept up to focus on violet eyes that smiled at him with tenderness and longing.

 

“Yes.” As if a hook had just sunk itself into his heart, Yohji felt himself being reeled in towards Ran. His feet carried him there without his command, and his arms reached out of their own volition.

 

“I never abandoned you, Yohji. Not even when I withheld the truth. I was waiting, just as I promised I would.” Pale hands entwined their fingers with Yohji's, pulling him closer before releasing their grip in order to find purchase on his back. Ran pressed at him, forcing him closer still. “Welcome back.”

 

Yohji felt torn between laughing and crying, so he opted for kissing Ran instead. The hands on his back pressed with possessive force, the fingers digging into and gripping at the fabric of his shirt. Ran's lips parted, inviting Yohji's tongue inside and welcoming it eagerly. Yohji felt himself tremble as he moaned and wrapped his arms around Ran in return. There was no going back now, he knew. It would be impossible to return to his life as Itou Ryou. All the bridges back were burnt to a smoldering crisp, leaving the road with its unsteady bridges ahead as his only available path. As they stripped each other of their clothes and collapsed together onto the bed, Yohji felt that he regretted nothing. Maybe once he became an assassin again the sentiment would change, but in that moment he felt certain he'd made the right choices.

 

“Yohji,” Ran whispered huskily into his ear while Yohji's lips were busy exploring an ivory neck. “I want you to take me.” The breath caught in Yohji's throat and he pulled back to study those incredible eyes, as if seeking confirmation. Ran offered him a smile and tucked a strand of honey-toned hair behind Yohji's ear, only to have it instantly slip free again. “It would be best if that's what we do this time. It's been far longer for you than it has for me.”

 

Bitter thoughts of Arai and possibly others having taken Ran slithered their way into Yohji's mind, feeding a strange little demon of possessiveness and jealousy that quickly grew and tried to take over. With a growl Yohji descended on Ran's neck once more, biting at it and suckling until he left a bright red mark that would not soon fade.

 

“Yohji?” Ran's bewildered and apprehensive voice broke through the demon's control and caused Yohji to pull back and study those eyes again.

 

“No one else,” he rasped through the dizzying combination of desire and jealousy. “I don't want you to be with anyone one else again, Ran. Please.”

 

Violet eyes grew wide before falling closed as Ran turned his head away. “Idiot.” That word struck Yohji in the pit of his stomach, and he felt his throat start to close up. “Now that I have the real thing, why would I need anymore substitutes?” Just like that, his throat relaxed and his stomach flip-flopped in joy.

 

Grinning, Yohji buried his face against Ran's neck and slid his arms up under the man's back to hold him tight. “The same for me,” he whispered against smooth, warm skin. “You're the only one I'm going to be with from now on. I swear it.”

 

Strong arms wrapped around his back and fingers clutched almost painfully at his flesh. “Don't make promises unless you plan to keep them, Kudou.”

 

Placing a kiss to the flesh at his lips, Yohji answered in all seriousness, “I meant what I said.” The fingers at his back released their grasp and slid roughly up to his hair, pulling Yohji's head back so that Ran could kiss him fiercely on the lips. Yohji tasted a possessiveness on Ran's tongue that mirrored his own. It was an intoxicating sensation that sent a thrill through him and caused his body to catch fire.

 

Ran spread his legs, and Yohji pulled away from the kiss and the embrace in order to sit on his knees between them. The sight before him was incredible—Ran naked and flushed, blood red hair pouring loose over forest green pillows, skin glowing in contrast to the dark sheets. Yohji trailed his fingers along Ran's flesh, feeling scars that weren't easily visible, tracing the ridges of well-defined muscles. Ran had such a strong, tight body. It reminded Yohji of his own body back when he first woke up, but his muscles had since begun to fade from lack of use. Sometimes his fingers would come across a particularly sensitive spot, and Yohji could feel Ran's muscles shift and shudder just beneath translucent white skin. “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” The words came on a reverent whisper from Yohji's lips, and Ran smiled as they caressed him like the fingers on his flesh. Yohji started to smile as well, but his cheeks aborted the action when he caught sight of the sadness lingering in Ran's eyes. “What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Ran assured, reaching a hand up to touch Yohji as he was being touched. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” Hoping that would chase away whatever it was that was bothering Ran, Yohji was confused to see the sadness grow in those eyes. At a loss, he leaned down and kissed Ran with as much feeling as he could, willing the sadness away. Ran's arms wrapped around him again, his hands stroking, petting, and kneading in a way that had Yohji panting between kisses as he rocked his hips to obtain some sort of friction. His cock slid against Ran's, sending a shiver through them both.

 

They continued like that for several minutes, bodies rocking against each other as they breathed moans into each other's mouths. Finally Ran pulled his lips away. “Yohji, I need… In the nightstand drawer…” Yohji quickly pulled back so that he could reach the nightstand, but he was intercepted by Ran as the man twisted his body and stretched out an arm to pull the drawer open. After some blind rummaging, Ran's hand returned with a clear bottle, and he returned to his previous position. “I don't think we'll need a condom, since I've had a recent test and know I'm clean. But, if you'd rather…” Ran let his voice trail off, eyes searching Yohji's face for an answer.

 

“Should be fine,” Yohji agreed with a nod. The thought excited him, since the only sex he could recall—aside from Ran going down on him last night—had involved a condom. He was curious and eager to see what it felt like without one.

 

Ran nodded back and popped the cap of the bottle open with his thumb, moving as if to pour it on the fingers of his free hand. Licking his lips, Yohji reached out to stop him. Deep purple eyes flashed up at him in question. “I want to,” explained Yohji, his heart speeding up at the very idea.

 

“Are you sure? You don't have to force yourself… You aren't used to doing such things with a man anymore.” Ran studied Yohji's eyes as if looking for even the slightest hint of hesitation. Yohji knew he wouldn't find it.

 

“Please. I've wanted to since I saw you on the couch last night.” He felt his cheeks heat at the confession, and watched as Ran's expression shifted from shock to lechery.

 

“You were watching me?” The voice had a suggestive purr woven into it that gave Yohji an image of Ran over him, dominating and teasing him until he begged. His cock twitched, the motion caught by sharp violet eyes that darted a quick glance down at the movement before leering into green. “I was thinking about you, you know. About you finishing what you started on the dryer. You didn't have to limit yourself to watching; you were more than welcome to join me.”

 

Yohji's breath came out in a choppy stutter as he tried to keep his body under control. “Lube,” he whispered, because he didn't trust himself to string together a full sentence. Smirking, Ran took Yohji's hand and drizzled the cool, thick fluid over his fingers until they were completely covered, a few drops plopping onto Ran's chest and belly below. The bottle's cap was then flipped back on and it was set aside on the bed within easy reach.

 

“Start with two,” Ran instructed as he spread his legs wider, pulling them back in order to roll his hips upwards and provide a better vantage.

 

Scooting back a little, Yohji gazed down at Ran's crotch and let out a deep moan. A blushing erection stretched up towards Ran's navel from tight red curls a shade or two darker than the hair on the pillows. Beneath that hung an equally rosy sack that gave a slow twitch as Yohji's eyes roved over it, the action causing a drop of moisture to leak onto Ran's belly from his cock. Eyes falling lower still, Yohji stared at the dark pink pucker that waited eagerly for his touch. He slowly brought his fingers to the entrance, slipping first the tip of his middle and then his index finger inside. The penetration went smoothly thanks to the lubricant, and soon the fingers were buried as far as they could go. Yohji quickly looked up at Ran's face to make sure that he wasn't feeling any pain. All he could see was pleasure and hunger reflected in the other man's expression. Encouraged, Yohji began to slowly work his fingers in and out of Ran, feeling around at the tight channel and testing to see what Ran liked best. He couldn't help but compare it to a woman, noting the differences in texture and tightness. Then again, he supposed part of the texture difference could be a result of the lube, which had a different consistency than a woman's natural fluids.

 

“Third,” Ran panted, his eyes glazing over and looking practically hypnotic to Yohji.

 

Obeying, Yohji pulled the fingers back in order to work a third one in as well. It allowed him to press in deeper, which he did eagerly. He also started twisting and curling his fingers, the same instinct that allowed him to masterfully pleasure Rika now guiding him through pleasuring Ran. The pads of his fingers brushed against something that caused Ran to shudder and rock his hips in request for more. “There,” the redhead breathed with another cant of his hips. Yohji pressed at it again, gently stroking the spot. Amazed, he watched as pre-cum pulsed from Ran's cock each time that spot was rubbed, the little wet spot on Ran's belly steadily growing.

 

Without thinking, Yohji leaned in and licked at the tiny puddle, then ran his tongue along the leaking slit. The cock jerked upwards, and he used the motion to capture the head with his lips. Ran gave a choked gasp and buried the fingers of his right hand into Yohji's hair, urging him to take more. Yohji slid his lips down a little further, using the tip of his tongue to feel along the smooth mushroomed head, and then tracing it along the underside where it met the stem. With Ran's fingers kneading his scalp, Yohji rubbed the broad side of his tongue against the cock in his mouth and slowly inched his head down until it brushed against the back of his throat. He was disappointed to see that he couldn't swallow Ran down without gagging, since he had personally enjoyed being on the receiving end of such treatment via Ran's mouth. But, he did what he could with what he could take, sucking and tonguing the hard cock while he continued to finger Ran with growing urgency. The fingers in his hair eventually tightened their grip until it hurt, and he was pulled away from his oral task. Ran's eyes looked almost black as they watched Yohji through dark lashes.

 

“In me.” It was only two words, but they were all Yohji needed to spur him into action. He carefully pulled his fingers out, reaching for the bottle with his clean hand. Shifting himself closer to Ran, he worked a generous amount of lube onto his previously neglected cock. Satisfied with the amount, he grabbed some tissues off the nightstand and hastily wiped his hands, haphazardly tossing the soiled tissues and the bottle aside afterwards. Craving the taste, Yohji leaned in to capture Ran's lips again, his slick cock rubbing between Ran's ass until the head tripped on the circle it sought. Hands were on his back again, clinging at him and skidding lower to clasp and press at his ass while he slowly worked his way inside of Ran. Once he was fully in, his balls nestled against Ran's ass, he broke their kiss with a greedy suckle at Ran's bottom lip.

 

“I love you,” Yohji whispered, soothing the lip with a brush of his tongue. “Sometimes it hurts so much.” Ran's dark eyes blinked up at him through the fog of lust and desire, their normal coloring slowly returning along with regained focus. With a thrust of his hips, Yohji watched the clarity bleed away as Ran tilted his head back and moaned through parted lips. Yohji loved the feeling of sliding in and out of Ran. Whether it was because he didn't have a condom to limit his sensations, or because of the physical differences between men and women, or even because the love he had for Ran by far outweighed any feelings for Rika, all Yohji knew for certain was that it was the best thing he could remember having ever experienced.

 

He pulled himself up to be supported by his hands, bracing himself firmly with his arms. Ran's hands took turns clutching at his hips and ass, grip tensing with each inward thrust. Yohji watched, mesmerized, as Ran gasped and moaned beneath him, body writhing wantonly each time that special spot was hit. How could anyone not be satisfied with this man? How could Yohji not have been satisfied? It made no sense, and he refused to believe that was the cause of his past transgressions. Some part of his old self had to have known that Ran was the one for him, he reasoned. Why else would he have been craving this man both consciously and unconsciously for so long? Why else would it feel so perfect to be with him like this? So incredibly perfect.

 

Between moans, Ran's eyes slid open and caught Yohji's, holding them with a force almost as tangible as the hands on Yohji's body. Yohji thought he saw something within them—a message, a plea. “Never,” his lips murmured in response, “I'll never leave you again.” The eyes smiled in reply, then fell closed as Ran's back arched up and his mouth released a stuttered cry. The slick passage around Yohji's cock convulsed and warm cum was strewed across both of their stomachs, the bulk of it landing on Ran. Yohji gasped and waited until the passage relaxed before continuing his thrusts with more strength and urgency.

 

The headboard thudded loudly against the wall and Yohji's breath came in throat-burning pants as Ran sobbed out encouragements between unintelligible cries. Then it all became too much, and Yohji's hips slammed into Ran one last time, pressing and rocking against him as he came deep inside the hot channel. Before he could catch his breath, Yohji's head was jerked down by Ran's strong hands and his mouth was ravished. His arms trembled and finally collapsed, and he fell with a damp slap onto Ran's chest. Neither seemed to care, and Yohji slid his arms under Ran to hold him close again, stealing gasps of air between kisses. When finally their blood had cooled, Yohji pulled an am free to grab the box of tissues and pull it to them. They separated long enough to perform some cursory cleaning, then they were right back in each other's arms. Though, they moved over on the bed to avoid the cool and sticky wet spot that had formed as a result of their actions. Later they would shower and change the sheets, but for the moment they didn't want to move.

 

“We'll need to clean up before Hidaka gets back,” Yohji observed with a sigh as he snuggled against Ran's neck, lips brushing the mark he had made earlier.

 

“Why?” Ran's voice vibrated through his throat, sending a tingle along Yohji's lips.

 

“Isn't he staying here for a while? I thought that meant he'd have the bedroom while you take the couch like when I was here.”

 

Ran chuckled, fingers stroking Yohji's sex-mussed hair. “Ken's not allowed in my bed, Yohji. You're the only one who gets that honor.”

 

Yohji smiled against Ran's neck as his heart swelled at the implications. It meant he was the only one Ran had brought home, and the only one to actually share Ran's bed. His arm around Ran tightened and he kissed the neck he snuggled. “Ran?” He waited for an inquiring hum from the redhead before continuing, “I'm really, really happy. I don't remember ever being this happy since I woke up.”

 

Lips kissed the top of his head as fingers continued to comb through his dark blond hair. “Remember that,” Ran whispered softly. “Remember it later, when the past catches back up with you.”

 

Nothing was said after that, and Yohji's eyes remained open long after Ran's breath evened out in sleep. There was no time for regret and hesitation, he reminded himself. It was too late for that. His fingers curled around Ran's hip and he inhaled his lover's unique scent. No matter what nightmares were to come, they were worth it.

 

Without a doubt, they were worth this.

 

-----

The End