Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Chains ❯ Touch Me ( Chapter 56 )

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

Chapter Fifty-Six: Touch Me

For the next twenty-four hours he suffered through the rote responses and infuriating distance. By the next afternoon, Yohji was starting to think it was Aya’s way of punishing him for saying something stupid.

He had been trying to help, but apparently Aya thought he was talking down to him. Of course, the boy was hardly likely to tell Yohji off for it, and so they returned to that stiff, formal interaction that set the blonde’s nerves on edge. He had been grumpy all day, and when he sent Aya to their room to get a moment away, it only frustrated him further since he couldn’t help worry about what they redhead was doing there. His frustration culminated when, coming into their room to get the boy ready to go, Yohji found him sitting on the floor.

“Stop it,” he said, not too nicely, as he stood in the doorway. It infuriated him that Aya would just wipe away all their work over a single, stupid comment.

Now he looked at the floor, staring at the rug, silent.

Stalking over, Yohji dropped to one knee in front of him, barely resisting the urge to grab him.

“You are just the king of fucking passive aggressive behavior, you know that?!”

Still looking down, Aya nodded, whispering, “Yes, Yohji.”

“Don’t fucking ‘Yes, Yohji’ me.”

Nothing. He wasn’t even looking up. Yohji reached a hand, intent on tipping up his face, but the moment it was in the air, Aya cringed.

He stopped, immediately lowering his hand and wondering what the hell was going on. Something was off.

“You thought I was gonna hit you,” he said, surprised. “I thought…I’m not gonna hurt you, Aya. We’ve been through this.”

“Yes, Yohji,” he spoke very quietly, like the words were hard to get out.

“What’s the matter?”

Aya shook his head no.

“What’s that mean? Why do you think I’m gonna hit you?”

“I…I’m sorry,” and then quickly, “I’m sorry for touching you without permission, Yohji.”

“What?” There was a fleeting memory of Aya grabbing him in a moment of panic, but in Yohji’s mind the interaction had been mutual. “Aya, it’s fine. Why would I be mad at you for that?”

*** ** ***

Sharp pain shot down his side as he drug himself to his knees, trying to brace with his arms as he breathed through his mouth. His nose was bleeding, and red dripped onto the wood floor. He watched it as he breathed, trying to gather his strength.

“Up!”

Getting his feet underneath him, Aya pushed himself up off the floor. He was careful to keep his eyes down, but his head swam with the motion and the pain increased. He wasn’t sure if he was going to pass out or throw up as he swayed unsteadily.

“Slow,” Crawford accused, the word followed by the heavy hit of the metal pole across his sore back. He hated the pole, an odd, two-foot length of steel that Crawford wielded with uncanny strength. As it landed again, he sucked in a breath, choking as blood went down his throat. Aya felt his knees tremble and tried to lock them to keep himself upright. It was a failing effort, his emaciated, injured frame refusing to support him. He pitched forward, knowing the punishment for falling, trying desperately to find anything to prevent it. He searching fingers found Crawford arm by mistake, and though the hold was fleeting, he knew, even as he landed hard on the ground, that it was done.

The pole landed against his aching side.

“You don’t touch me without my permission,” Crawford stated, cold as ice as he loomed over Aya. “I will tell you when you touch me.”

There was pain, again, and he thought he had been hit. It was getting hard to tell. He tried to curl up, to protect himself, but it was futile.

“A lesson, Ran. Up. Up!”

Another hit, across his back, making him cough  He heard the clatter as the pole was tossed aside, but there was no comfort in the sound as he was yanked up to his knees. Crawford tugged on his arms, drawing them behind his back and cuffing them there with restraints only recently removed. Now, though, they were tighter.

Opening his eyes, Aya saw only white. It took him only a second to realize it was Crawford’s suit, the man standing in front of him as he knelt.

“Pleasure me, Ran.”

Instinctively, he tugged at the restraints.

“No, not with your hands.”

*** ** ***

“Aya, look at me. Why would I be mad at you for that?”

“…my Master, he…” The boy shook his head, finding no words.

Yohji swallowed hard, and he felt like he was trudging into enemy territory, “He hurt you?”

Nothing.

“Did he hurt you when you touched him?”

Again, there was nothing as Aya stared at the rug.

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

No, he didn’t.

“Okay,” Yohji sat back on the floor, trying to gather his thoughts and decide on a direction. “That’s okay. But, hey, I’m not him.” He barely resisted the ‘remember’ that wasn’t going to help anything. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He waited, unsure what else to say. Then, slowly, Aya lifted his head to look at him.

“I was,” he said so softly Yohji had to strain to hear it.

Yohji scratched his head, literally, desperately trying to figure out how Aya being mad translated into his being scared of being punished. Somehow that anger had turned inward, probably because the kid was too afraid of saying anything, at least until now. Maybe it wasn’t such a step backwards after all, if Aya was talking about his feelings, at least a little. Suddenly, Yohji had the irrational urge to pick up a clipboard, plop Aya on a couch, and ask him how various things made him feel.

“Why?” he asked instead, already knowing the answer. He had already spent a day regretting his words that, obviously (at least in retrospect), had been an insult; Aya hadn’t been scared of the movie.

“I’m—“

“Please don’t say you’re sorry. It’s okay that you were mad at me; it was kind of a stupid thing to say. I was trying to help, though.”

Aya nodded, looking at him with a slightly curious expression.

“And for the record, it would be a hell of a lot easier if you would tell me when you’re upset.”

~*~

Yohji watched Aya disappear into the dojo, looking far more independent than he really was. Who would guess, looking at the young man with the straight posture and weapons over his shoulder, that he had someone waiting in the car for him like he was five. Yohji shook his head, not sure what to make of his own thought. He wasn’t mad, not anymore, but he felt more than a little lost after his conversation with Aya.

The fact that it had been, in many ways, an actual conversation marked it as progress. But his initial, angry comment hadn’t been too far off; he just hadn’t realized to what extent it was true. Aya was passive aggressive, in an extreme way. It had to be linked to whatever ‘training’ his ‘master’ had put him through, not allowing healthy expression of, Yohji suspected, anything. So he turned it on himself to the point of taking blame, of suspecting Yohji of anger that was really his own. Hell, his habit of scratching himself was probably the same damn thing.

Not for the first time, Yohji wished he had learned more about psychology, but he had to work with what he had.

Aya needed to learn to be expressive, assertive. Resolved as to his next goal, though having no idea how to accomplish it, Yohji pulled out of the parking lot and went across the street to wait.

~*~

“The katana, please.”

Aya nodded. As he lifted the heavy blade in his hands, he tried to put everything else aside. He didn’t need to think about Yohji, about Schuldig, about the hundred other concerns that constantly plagued him. He focused his attention on the sword; all that mattered was his ability to wield it. The reasons didn’t matter.

“Leave the scabbard.”

He did.

“You’ll use both hands, for now, but in battle it will be more efficient if you can control it with one.”

Aya nodded, coming to stand in the middle of the room. The wood was solid beneath his bare feet, the katana hard in his hands. He straightened his shoulders and looked up at his teacher. There were no questions with Sato, and no playing games. The man said, outright, that he would teach Aya to defend himself, and to kill.

~tbc~

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