Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Chains ❯ Carry Me ( Chapter 79 )

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

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Carry Me


Hours. It’d been fucking hours, and Aya was still at it.

He hadn’t thought too much about it when Aya asked if he could go practice. It was a little more than obvious (to Yohji’s at least), that Aya needed some time to himself. Whether he used this to think or not-think, Yohji wasn’t too sure, but he was learning to leave well enough alone so Aya could get his bearings.

However, he was not going to let this go on.

Sliding open the gym door, he watched for a minute. Aya brought his sword down swiftly, turned, brought it back up and sliced horizontally; backing up half a step, he parried some invisible blow and, with a quick lunge forward, sliced downwardly again. A jab and another parry, then he started all over again.

His face had been flushed at one point, but was now pale as he worked past the edge of exhaustion. His eyes appeared more sunken than usual, the circles under them dark, accentuating the slightly gaunt nature that lingered in his face. His sweaty, messy hair hung half over his face as he moved, eartails clinging momentarily to his cheeks, lifting as he turned, and falling again.

He looked tired. It was nearly two in the morning, and with no food and little sleep, Yohji didn’t know how he kept going. Something was obviously wrong, and Aya’s newest method of coping was clearly not working. He needed to talk, and though Yohji hadn’t forced it in the past, it was looking like a time for a serious intervention.

Setting his teeth together, Yohji went in. Aya didn’t stop, and the blonde had to wait for the slower parry before he was able to step in and land and hand on top of Aya’s. The boy froze, looked up, then, at Yohji’s silent insistence, handed over the weapon. Leaving Aya standing in the middle of the floor, Yohji carefully sheathed the sword and leaned it against the wall. He lingered there, just a second, thinking, and turned around just in time to see it happen.

With a slight tremble, Aya placed a hand to his head. Then he collapsed, looking too much like a body released from the wire as he dropped straight down to the floor, feet tucked behind him and one hand pressed between his spread knees, the other still shielding his eyes.

Yohji should probably have been surprised, but he actually found himself grateful that Aya hadn’t simply passed out. Of course, that might have saved him the impending conversation.

Taking his time, he walked back to the boy and settled on the wooden floor beside him, spending a few minutes looking at the freshly waxed floorboards and wondering if Aya would say something first.

“I’m sorry,” the boy stated quietly.

No shock there, Yohji thought, but he kept his mouth shut. Aya was tired, and such a state had caused him to talk in the past.

“I…I…,” Aya dropped his hand from his forehead, bracing both against the floor as he stared down at them, shoulders hunched and face completely hidden. Wary. “I think I messed up.”

Yohji kept his mouth shut, but when Aya didn’t go on, he relented and took another track. He reached up and, ignoring the way Aya flinched from his touch, ran his fingers through the eartail closest to him, gently separating the damp strands. Aya was perfectly still, maybe even holding his breath. Yohji thought the boy, or at least some part of him, still expected the blonde to haul off and beat the shit out of him.

Taking a deep breath, Yohji kept his voice quiet as he asked, “What’re you talking about?”

“I…today…I…”

When he wasn’t able to go on, Yohji took a few more minutes sorting the messy strands of red hair, amused (tired as he was) at how Aya relaxed, just a little, under the kind touch. The boy was meant for gentle things.

By the time he took his hand away again, Aya seemed to have gathered his thoughts to a degree.

“I told him…I…my father wasn’t a bad man.”

“Okay,” Yohji acknowledged. “Who thinks he was?”

“That…that man,” Aya shook his head in a novel display of disgust. “He…I should have answered more quickly. I just…it was hard. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Yohji assured, bending down awkwardly to see Aya’s eyes, holding the cramped pose until the redhead got the idea and looked up at him. “He’s an ass. What’d you tell him?”

“He trick—I wasn’t paying enough attention. He wanted to know if…if my father…if father loved me. He asked a lot of questions.”

“Did he? Your father, did he…” Yohji didn’t feel right to finish the interrogating question, but when Aya started to talk, he made no move to cut him off either.

“Father was a good man. He helped people; he didn’t…he never hurt those people,” Aya insisted. Then his head dropped down again, “He had his reasons for…he was very kind to Aya-chan.”

“Was he kind to you?” Yohji asked, quietly, using Aya’s words.

“He…I…it was my fault. I…I made things difficult,” the boy said, but those words didn’t sound like his; they sounded like something he as repeating. “I always…it was…I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help what I—I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Yohji insisted, wondering if the apology was even meant for him. “What did you do?”

“Look at me,” Aya said suddenly, exhaustion and pain shockingly present in his voice. “I…they, my family, they were normal…and I wasn’t. Not ever. I…father…had concerns.”

“Concerns?”

“He thought...my mother was from a very good family, but she…when they were first married, she…my father knew about it, about him, but it was only…only one time. He was always away…she wasn’t a bad woman, Yohji.”

“Right,” he answered, trying to put it together and wondering if he had missed a piece somewhere. Was Aya talking about an affair?

“It was a long time ago…before I was born, and mother…she was so sorry,” he shook his head. “She was devoted afterwards; father began to work in Tokyo. They were happy…before…then, when I…he thought she had cheated again.”

Oh. So Aya’s dad thought he was another man’s child. That explained a few things, like that family portrait. But if—

“She didn’t. They…there were a lot of tests. I…I was small, but I remember. Mother…mother cried, but…they said, the doctors, they said I was…she hadn’t cheated, and I was…everything was right, even though I was so…strange. So strange.

“They fought…I…my fault. Mother…mother yelled at me, but father…

“He took me to the shrine. I think…they talked…I…he thought I was…I was a…demon…or, a demon soul or…he didn’t want to talk about it….I was a punishment from the gods because of mother. He was so angry at us both…but he never…he was still…to me. He taught me…he just…

“And Aya-chan. Aya-chan made him happy.”

He seemed to come back then, lifting his head again.

“Aya?” Yohji questioned.

“He wouldn’t have hurt people, Yohji. I don’t want that doctor to think...”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yohji assured, still trying to process what was disturbing, if broken, story.

“It does!” Aya whispered emphatically. “My family was honorable. I know…I know I can’t be, but my father’s name; I won’t let them blame him.”

“Okay,” Yohji soothed, sensing that they weren’t too far from the breaking point. While a freakout might have been cathartic, Yohji doubted it, and he was more concerned about getting a bit of food into the redhead and putting him to bed. And gods, he just wanted to comfort him a little.

“Come on,” he suggested, getting to his feet, too tired to be graceful about it. “I’m starving.”

Aya didn’t move.

“Aya, let’s go. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor tonight.”

“I…I can’t get up.”

There was nothing to do but laugh. Yohji shook his head, realizing that the boy had in fact worn himself out completely, barely able to hold his head up. Well, that would teach him to run on empty through eight hours of practice, wouldn’t it.

Yohji took a minute and lit a cigarette. Stowing his pack and lighter, he clenched his teeth around the smoke and crouched down in front of Aya, his back towards the boy.

“Come on,” he said again. Aya, unsurprisingly, did nothing. “Aya, arms, come on.”

Hesitantly, Aya put his arms around Yohji’s shoulders, the thin limbs drooping with fatigue. Yohji was careful not to move too quickly as he shifted backwards and coaxed Aya onto his back. Mindful of Aya and his cigarette, he stood.

“You know what, Princess? You’re gettin’ to be real high maintenance.”

~tbc~



Notes: Please review to tell Yohji to keep up the good work, or at least not to drop Ayan!
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