Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Chains ❯ Guard Me ( Chapter 72 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Miko No Hoshi 
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.26.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 234 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.26.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 234 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter Seventy-Two: Guard Me
All told, Yohji thought it was too early to be so sweaty, but, eh, it was Ken so no surprise.
After fishing out the creamer, the blonde stood back as a rather damp Ken unearthed a sports drink from the bottom of the fridge and stood with the door open to drink it. Only when the strange, blue stuff was half gone did he turn around and greet Yohji with a smile that didn’t quite reach its normal level.
“Something wrong?” Yohji questioned as he sought the coffee maker, liberally filling the mug Omi had set out for him. He added his creamer and leaned against the counter to drink it; Ken took a seat at the table, making Yohji hope he would wipe the chair down later.
“No…I don’t guess.”
Yohji just looked at him, and Ken broke. If only everyone was so easy.
“Aya and me were practicing. He’s…he’s getting good.”
“Hm,” he answered, noncommittal.
“Really good.”
“You said that before.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…I ought to be able to land a hit sometime.”
~*~
Back in his dark jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt, Aya followed Yohji to the car.
“Here,” the blonde said, going to the back to open the trunk. Aya hesitated, unsure at the sudden change in routine, but he went.
Yohji gestured to the trunk, wanting him to put his kendo bag inside. It was a tight fit, and he had to angle it just so. Yohji nodded and pulled two bundles from behind it before shutting the trunk.
“Here,” he said again, handing one of them to Aya. “Are you up to it?”
Unsure what ‘it’ was, Aya just nodded. Whatever. He would do whatever he had to. There wasn’t much time, and Yohji had promised to help him get Aya-chan back. It didn’t matter what the man asked him for…even…yes, even that. He had done it before, and now, with not just his sister’s wellbeing, but the actual possibility of finding her…
But Yohji wouldn’t—
“Hey.”
There was a little nudge to his arm, and Aya realized he had been staring at the roll of heavy material in his hands. He looked up, finding green eyes evaluating him above the lenses of Yohji’s glasses.
“You okay?”
He nodded and made quick work of unfolding the material. A coat. It was dark and long, made of leather. He pushed his arms into the sleeves and settled it over his shoulders. Yohji reached, and he didn’t flinch, now used to the man making adjustments to his clothes. Yohji was always gentle, was now, as he arranged the collar and fastened the two rows of buttons on the coat’s front.
The sleeves were a little too long; it must be Yohji’s. Carefully, the blonde took one hand then the other, lifting them so he could roll up the sleeves. That done, he turned back to click the remote lock on the car. Aya noticed that Yohji had donned a coat as well, and he felt a cold shock when he recognized it.
It was long and dark blue, hugging tight to the man’s frame and zippered up the middle. The collar rested high on Yohji’s neck, having no lapels, streamlined, Aya thought, not messy like so many of Yohji’s outfits. On each arm was a strikingly white cross, bright against the dark fabric
He looked good. Strong.
Scary.
Aya pushed the thought down with vehemence. He wasn’t scared of Yohji.
It didn’t matter if he was wearing the same coat as the night he had bought Aya.
Not at all.
“Aya, okay?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
~*~
“Wait” he directed. Aya stopped, frozen in place in the dark alley. Yohji nodded, approving his quick uptake of direction. “See,” he explained, stepping away from the wall, out of the shadows so Aya could see him, “when you turn that way the light catches your face. If you’ve got your weapon, or anything that glows, you’re visible.”
Aya nodded and went back, crouching again behind the large dumpster. Yohji stepped back against the wall and waited.
It wasn’t the most pleasant way to spend an evening, playing stalking games in a dark alley that smelled of trash and less intriguing things. But it wasn’t the first time Yohji had whiled away the hours in such a place. And, hell, this time nobody was trying to kill him, and he wasn’t drunk and throwing up in front of his date either, so maybe it wasn’t so bad.
And there was Aya. He had been nervous, at first, but not so much as Yohji would have expected. Besides that, he was a hell of a quick study.
“Better?” Aya suddenly asked from right beside him. It took all Yohji’s control not to jump. The boy was always quiet, but when trying his hand at skulking, he was eerily so.
“Yeah,” Yohji granted easily, lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. Not many people could sneak up on him, he hated it when they could, and he got the distinct impression that he’d just trained someone to do just that. “Pretty good. Let’s go to the roof.”
~*~
It was after three when they got back, but Aya was still wide awake. Yohji had watched him all the way home. He looked different, older, maybe, outfitted in the worn leather coat. His gloved hands had rested in his lap, clenching and unclenching at some thought Yohji didn’t have access to.
He had praised Aya’s skills, and the boy had deserved it. In one night, he had picked up a number of important techniques. Weiss wasn’t all about killing, and it would be crucial that Aya know how to hide in the shadows, how to stay perfectly still, how to find the best angle to watch from but keep yourself hidden. There were bound to be differences when he had the sword with him, Yohji realized, and he had promised Aya they would do it again another night, letting the redhead bring along his weapon now that he had covered the basics.
“You ready for bed?” he asked as he watched Aya place his bag carefully in the corner. The redhead nodded, a vague reply; his attention had been caught by something outside the window, or in his own head. “Okay, you get your shower first.”
When Aya didn’t move, Yohji carefully approached behind him. He wanted to hug him, but after all they had happened between them, he didn’t dare.
“What’s the matter?”
There was a long pause, a moment subsumed in silence.
“I’m really going to do it,” Aya whispered.
Yohji didn’t know what to say. What did you tell someone who had just realized they were going to have to kill people?
With slow determination, Yohji took Aya’s arm and turned him around so they faced each other. Purple eyes came up to his own, bright in the wash of moonlight from the window and full of questions that Aya would never ask and Yohji wouldn’t have been able to answer anyway.
“It’s okay,” he promised as he settled his hands on Aya’s shoulders. When that didn’t settle the tumultuous look in the boy’s eyes, Yohji cautiously drew the boy into a hug, pressing him gently against his own body. Aya still felt thin, too little to be doing this. His body was stiff, but for just second, then he all but collapsed against the taller man, hands holding tightly to Yohji’s sides and he face pressed against the blonde’s neck.
“It’ll be okay,” Yohji said again. “I won’t let anything happen.”
~tbc~
Notes: Review to encourage Aya (and the author)!
Converting /tmp/phpqPZpXa to /dev/stdout
All told, Yohji thought it was too early to be so sweaty, but, eh, it was Ken so no surprise.
After fishing out the creamer, the blonde stood back as a rather damp Ken unearthed a sports drink from the bottom of the fridge and stood with the door open to drink it. Only when the strange, blue stuff was half gone did he turn around and greet Yohji with a smile that didn’t quite reach its normal level.
“Something wrong?” Yohji questioned as he sought the coffee maker, liberally filling the mug Omi had set out for him. He added his creamer and leaned against the counter to drink it; Ken took a seat at the table, making Yohji hope he would wipe the chair down later.
“No…I don’t guess.”
Yohji just looked at him, and Ken broke. If only everyone was so easy.
“Aya and me were practicing. He’s…he’s getting good.”
“Hm,” he answered, noncommittal.
“Really good.”
“You said that before.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…I ought to be able to land a hit sometime.”
~*~
Back in his dark jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt, Aya followed Yohji to the car.
“Here,” the blonde said, going to the back to open the trunk. Aya hesitated, unsure at the sudden change in routine, but he went.
Yohji gestured to the trunk, wanting him to put his kendo bag inside. It was a tight fit, and he had to angle it just so. Yohji nodded and pulled two bundles from behind it before shutting the trunk.
“Here,” he said again, handing one of them to Aya. “Are you up to it?”
Unsure what ‘it’ was, Aya just nodded. Whatever. He would do whatever he had to. There wasn’t much time, and Yohji had promised to help him get Aya-chan back. It didn’t matter what the man asked him for…even…yes, even that. He had done it before, and now, with not just his sister’s wellbeing, but the actual possibility of finding her…
But Yohji wouldn’t—
“Hey.”
There was a little nudge to his arm, and Aya realized he had been staring at the roll of heavy material in his hands. He looked up, finding green eyes evaluating him above the lenses of Yohji’s glasses.
“You okay?”
He nodded and made quick work of unfolding the material. A coat. It was dark and long, made of leather. He pushed his arms into the sleeves and settled it over his shoulders. Yohji reached, and he didn’t flinch, now used to the man making adjustments to his clothes. Yohji was always gentle, was now, as he arranged the collar and fastened the two rows of buttons on the coat’s front.
The sleeves were a little too long; it must be Yohji’s. Carefully, the blonde took one hand then the other, lifting them so he could roll up the sleeves. That done, he turned back to click the remote lock on the car. Aya noticed that Yohji had donned a coat as well, and he felt a cold shock when he recognized it.
It was long and dark blue, hugging tight to the man’s frame and zippered up the middle. The collar rested high on Yohji’s neck, having no lapels, streamlined, Aya thought, not messy like so many of Yohji’s outfits. On each arm was a strikingly white cross, bright against the dark fabric
He looked good. Strong.
Scary.
Aya pushed the thought down with vehemence. He wasn’t scared of Yohji.
It didn’t matter if he was wearing the same coat as the night he had bought Aya.
Not at all.
“Aya, okay?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
~*~
“Wait” he directed. Aya stopped, frozen in place in the dark alley. Yohji nodded, approving his quick uptake of direction. “See,” he explained, stepping away from the wall, out of the shadows so Aya could see him, “when you turn that way the light catches your face. If you’ve got your weapon, or anything that glows, you’re visible.”
Aya nodded and went back, crouching again behind the large dumpster. Yohji stepped back against the wall and waited.
It wasn’t the most pleasant way to spend an evening, playing stalking games in a dark alley that smelled of trash and less intriguing things. But it wasn’t the first time Yohji had whiled away the hours in such a place. And, hell, this time nobody was trying to kill him, and he wasn’t drunk and throwing up in front of his date either, so maybe it wasn’t so bad.
And there was Aya. He had been nervous, at first, but not so much as Yohji would have expected. Besides that, he was a hell of a quick study.
“Better?” Aya suddenly asked from right beside him. It took all Yohji’s control not to jump. The boy was always quiet, but when trying his hand at skulking, he was eerily so.
“Yeah,” Yohji granted easily, lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. Not many people could sneak up on him, he hated it when they could, and he got the distinct impression that he’d just trained someone to do just that. “Pretty good. Let’s go to the roof.”
~*~
It was after three when they got back, but Aya was still wide awake. Yohji had watched him all the way home. He looked different, older, maybe, outfitted in the worn leather coat. His gloved hands had rested in his lap, clenching and unclenching at some thought Yohji didn’t have access to.
He had praised Aya’s skills, and the boy had deserved it. In one night, he had picked up a number of important techniques. Weiss wasn’t all about killing, and it would be crucial that Aya know how to hide in the shadows, how to stay perfectly still, how to find the best angle to watch from but keep yourself hidden. There were bound to be differences when he had the sword with him, Yohji realized, and he had promised Aya they would do it again another night, letting the redhead bring along his weapon now that he had covered the basics.
“You ready for bed?” he asked as he watched Aya place his bag carefully in the corner. The redhead nodded, a vague reply; his attention had been caught by something outside the window, or in his own head. “Okay, you get your shower first.”
When Aya didn’t move, Yohji carefully approached behind him. He wanted to hug him, but after all they had happened between them, he didn’t dare.
“What’s the matter?”
There was a long pause, a moment subsumed in silence.
“I’m really going to do it,” Aya whispered.
Yohji didn’t know what to say. What did you tell someone who had just realized they were going to have to kill people?
With slow determination, Yohji took Aya’s arm and turned him around so they faced each other. Purple eyes came up to his own, bright in the wash of moonlight from the window and full of questions that Aya would never ask and Yohji wouldn’t have been able to answer anyway.
“It’s okay,” he promised as he settled his hands on Aya’s shoulders. When that didn’t settle the tumultuous look in the boy’s eyes, Yohji cautiously drew the boy into a hug, pressing him gently against his own body. Aya still felt thin, too little to be doing this. His body was stiff, but for just second, then he all but collapsed against the taller man, hands holding tightly to Yohji’s sides and he face pressed against the blonde’s neck.
“It’ll be okay,” Yohji said again. “I won’t let anything happen.”
~tbc~
Notes: Review to encourage Aya (and the author)!
Converting /tmp/phpqPZpXa to /dev/stdout