Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Chains ❯ Clothe Me ( Chapter 80 )
[ 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: 05.08.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 247 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.08.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 247 | Status: Work In Progress
Notes: I know everyone’s getting impatient for some action, and I promise to deliver to the best of my ability if you’ll just bare with me for a few more chapters!
Chapter Eighty: Clothe Me
“Welcome to the land of the living,” Ken joked.
Yohji just smiled, thinking himself well entitled to his sleeping in, even if it did make him over an hour late for his shift in the shop. Ken didn’t seem to begrudge him the time, and even lifted a box of doughnuts in his direction. Coming over to the counter to investigate, Yohji poked around the assortment until he came up with a plain, cake doughnut that suited him.
It was weird for Ken to buy breakfast, and especially strange that there would be any left after ten in the morning. Mouth full, Yohji gestured to the box.
“I thought Aya might want some breakfast,” Ken said, looking away like he had been caught at something. “He hasn’t been eating much, and you said he liked doughnuts. I, uh, I didn’t really know what kind…”
“Thanks,” Yohji acknowledge.
“Whatever. Is he coming down?”
Popping the last of doughnut in his mouth, Yohji chewed as he put on his apron. Once he was finished, he turned back to Ken.
“He’s still sleeping, and after last night,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna wake him.”
“Oh. I thought he could help with the roses,” Ken sighed a bit, obviously disappointed in having to deal with the task alone. Aya, it seemed, had started to become a serious amount of help. The fact made Yohji glad, a small shimmer of positivity that he needed. It was almost as good as coffee.
“You want him to be grumpy? I’ll help,” Yohji offered. Going to the cooler, he stood and stared at it for a long second before asking, “Now which ones are roses again?”
Ken did not seem amused.
~*~
Korat came to the door, a wide grim spreading across his face as he greeted them.
“Balinese! And the stray! Come in, come in,” he said, backing away from the door. Aya turned his eyes away, unable to look for long at the slick patch of skin where the man’s eye had been. It reminded him of Farfarello, and he couldn’t afford to remember that at the moment.
He needed to think.
Yohji was being friendly with him, talking and joking as Korat settled them at a rickety looking table and picked up a smoldering joint from the ashtray there. The entire place was closed off, dark and permeated with the smell of pot; a light haze hung in the air. Yohji declined the joint, but borrowed the man’s lighter to ignite his cigarette. When it was offered to Aya, he just shook his head, unsure what else to do. That seemed to work, and Korat set it aside.
“What brings you to my door?” he asked Yohji, all smiles. Aya thought, was pretty sure, actually, that Korat knew what they were there for. “More weapons?”
No, Yohji shook his head, then, with the lit cigarette between his fingers, gestured to Aya, “He needs some new clothes.”
A single, bright eye focused on Aya, and the man’s smile widened. He felt uncomfortable, and tugged at the hem of his black sweater, knowing its lower neckline showed the collar. How he hated that.
Never mind, he told himself, ducking his head under Korat’s stare.
“He’s looking better,” Korat said. “Getting some muscle on him. Been practicing, I bet. Gonna go out and hunt?”
Aya glanced up to see Yohji nod, a slight smile on his lips but his green eyes serious as he looked out over his sunglasses.
“Anything in particular?”
“Whatever he wants.”
Ten minutes later they were tracing a path through the building, making different turns than before. Aya felt better with Yohji behind him, sure that the blonde wouldn’t lead him into some kind of intricate trap or leave him with the strange Korat. Together they ducked under a lifted flap of heavy burlap that hung in a low doorway, stepping into a surprisingly bright room.
Unlike the weapons room, it was cluttered. Near the walls were racks of clothes, seeming to have no rhyme or reason; Aya saw black robes on one, a purple miniskirt on another. There was a door at the far end of the room and sever hangers rested over its edge, suspending some long, plastic-covered garments that might have matched the variety of things laying around on the various, odd tables that were packed into the center of the room. The only clear space of any consideration was where they stood.
Korat left them there and moved inside, shuffling a few items and poking around while muttering to himself.
“Night work. Probably shadow cover. Weapon concealment.” He looked back at Aya. “Rather thin. Body armor?”
The last was a question, and Yohji answered.
“Light, maybe.”
“Yes. Sword, right? Jacket or coat?”
“What do you think, Aya?” Yohji asked him, turning in his direction. Seeing that Aya was confused, he elaborated. “You’ve seen my coat. Omi and Ken both have jackets. It’s handy, you know, to hide stuff in. Helps you blend in too. Which sounds better? Or, you could try on a couple.”
He thought for a minute, and quickly decided a jacket wasn’t going to hide his sword. Yohji should have known that.
“Coat.”
“Good call,” Yohji said, wearing that same forced smile. Aya couldn’t see his eyes now, not with his sunglasses pushed up like that.
Korat nodded, shuffling more things, dragging out several long pieces and unwrapping them from garment bags and plastic.
“Here, maybe this one,” he said, holding out a long coat of dark gray. It was close cut like Yohji’s, with a high collar and zipper closure. When Aya didn’t take it, Yohji stepped forward to do so.
“Try it on,” he told the redhead.
Aya nodded, and slipped his arms into the coat as Yohji held it up. Korat had unearthed a flimsy, full-length mirror. He propped it against the wall and wiped it down with his sleeve. Aya stared at his reflection. The coat was nice, but it was tight, and it wouldn’t zip all the way up because of his collar.
No, he shook his head, simultaneously checking to see if Yohji was upset.
“Doesn’t have to be the first one we try. Ask Korat, took me three days.”
“No, you were a custom job. Too damn picky, that’s what you are,” the older man answered. Aya thought he was teasing, but he wasn’t sure. Slipping the gray coat from his shoulders, he let Yohji hand it back to the other in exchange for something solid black.
That turned out to be another long coat, one that swished around his ankles and tied with a heavy belt. There were smaller, leather ties down one side of the chest, and he reached to touch them, liking the fell of the supple material.
“Maybe,” he said. Yohji looked at him for a long minute, then moved to get the coat off.
“Something else in leather?” he asked Korat as he handed it over.
The thin-haired man paused to think, then nodded and went for one of the hangers on the door. It took a few minutes of jostling, but he came back with another coat. Yohji took it and held it up, letting Aya slip his arms into his before turning him around and doing up the fastenings.
They were buckles, three small but heavy ones to secure it. Aya liked that; it was tidy, somehow. Turning back to the mirror, he touched the silver with his finger before taking a step back to get a more general idea.
The coat was a mix of black and dark purple, the color of deep shadows at dusk. The collar was more open, with lapels that folded back securely, not fussy. The hem ended just below his calves, but there was a high slit in the back that would give him room to move.
He tested that, stepping back and lifting his arms. The coat was heavy, but it was soft leather, not restricting him.
It was…
“That one?”
“Yes.”
“A fine choice,” Korat grinned. “Now, you’ll want something under that.”
~*~
“Buckles, huh?” Yohji asked with a smile as he guided the Seven down the deserted street. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aya watching him, but the boy didn’t answer.
They’d pick up his things later since some of them needed alteration to account for Aya’s thinner frame and, much to Yohji’s amusement, a few custom changes Aya had hesitantly requested. Though he was teasing now, Aya really did seem to appreciate straps and buckles, but maybe they were just practical choices. He had wanted them on the collar of the undershirt, to draw it higher up around his neck, and then one on the upper arm of each sleeve of his coat, to draw the material tighter there. Maybe it was something to do with fighting, but Yohji really wasn’t sure. What he did notice was the logic Aya had applied to the situation. That was new, and it made him wonder how much thought the boy was putting into it and what kind of strategical knowledge he actually had.
“Want to grab a bite to eat?” he asked. It was past midnight, but there were several all-night places on their way.
No, Aya shook his head. He hadn’t been eating much at all during the stressful week they’d had. The night before Yohji had talked him into not quite half a sandwich before he fell asleep on the table.
“We’ll go to Mira’s.” It was a diner Yohji liked. He got a light glare from Aya at not listening to him, but the boy wasn’t comfortable enough to say anything so Yohji got his way. Hopefully he could get Aya to eat some fries at least, and if all else failed, Mira had a great strawberry shortcake.
~tbc~
Notes: Review to hustle along the plot. Here, poke it with this spork.
Converting /tmp/phpE2S9bL to /dev/stdout
Chapter Eighty: Clothe Me
“Welcome to the land of the living,” Ken joked.
Yohji just smiled, thinking himself well entitled to his sleeping in, even if it did make him over an hour late for his shift in the shop. Ken didn’t seem to begrudge him the time, and even lifted a box of doughnuts in his direction. Coming over to the counter to investigate, Yohji poked around the assortment until he came up with a plain, cake doughnut that suited him.
It was weird for Ken to buy breakfast, and especially strange that there would be any left after ten in the morning. Mouth full, Yohji gestured to the box.
“I thought Aya might want some breakfast,” Ken said, looking away like he had been caught at something. “He hasn’t been eating much, and you said he liked doughnuts. I, uh, I didn’t really know what kind…”
“Thanks,” Yohji acknowledge.
“Whatever. Is he coming down?”
Popping the last of doughnut in his mouth, Yohji chewed as he put on his apron. Once he was finished, he turned back to Ken.
“He’s still sleeping, and after last night,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna wake him.”
“Oh. I thought he could help with the roses,” Ken sighed a bit, obviously disappointed in having to deal with the task alone. Aya, it seemed, had started to become a serious amount of help. The fact made Yohji glad, a small shimmer of positivity that he needed. It was almost as good as coffee.
“You want him to be grumpy? I’ll help,” Yohji offered. Going to the cooler, he stood and stared at it for a long second before asking, “Now which ones are roses again?”
Ken did not seem amused.
~*~
Korat came to the door, a wide grim spreading across his face as he greeted them.
“Balinese! And the stray! Come in, come in,” he said, backing away from the door. Aya turned his eyes away, unable to look for long at the slick patch of skin where the man’s eye had been. It reminded him of Farfarello, and he couldn’t afford to remember that at the moment.
He needed to think.
Yohji was being friendly with him, talking and joking as Korat settled them at a rickety looking table and picked up a smoldering joint from the ashtray there. The entire place was closed off, dark and permeated with the smell of pot; a light haze hung in the air. Yohji declined the joint, but borrowed the man’s lighter to ignite his cigarette. When it was offered to Aya, he just shook his head, unsure what else to do. That seemed to work, and Korat set it aside.
“What brings you to my door?” he asked Yohji, all smiles. Aya thought, was pretty sure, actually, that Korat knew what they were there for. “More weapons?”
No, Yohji shook his head, then, with the lit cigarette between his fingers, gestured to Aya, “He needs some new clothes.”
A single, bright eye focused on Aya, and the man’s smile widened. He felt uncomfortable, and tugged at the hem of his black sweater, knowing its lower neckline showed the collar. How he hated that.
Never mind, he told himself, ducking his head under Korat’s stare.
“He’s looking better,” Korat said. “Getting some muscle on him. Been practicing, I bet. Gonna go out and hunt?”
Aya glanced up to see Yohji nod, a slight smile on his lips but his green eyes serious as he looked out over his sunglasses.
“Anything in particular?”
“Whatever he wants.”
Ten minutes later they were tracing a path through the building, making different turns than before. Aya felt better with Yohji behind him, sure that the blonde wouldn’t lead him into some kind of intricate trap or leave him with the strange Korat. Together they ducked under a lifted flap of heavy burlap that hung in a low doorway, stepping into a surprisingly bright room.
Unlike the weapons room, it was cluttered. Near the walls were racks of clothes, seeming to have no rhyme or reason; Aya saw black robes on one, a purple miniskirt on another. There was a door at the far end of the room and sever hangers rested over its edge, suspending some long, plastic-covered garments that might have matched the variety of things laying around on the various, odd tables that were packed into the center of the room. The only clear space of any consideration was where they stood.
Korat left them there and moved inside, shuffling a few items and poking around while muttering to himself.
“Night work. Probably shadow cover. Weapon concealment.” He looked back at Aya. “Rather thin. Body armor?”
The last was a question, and Yohji answered.
“Light, maybe.”
“Yes. Sword, right? Jacket or coat?”
“What do you think, Aya?” Yohji asked him, turning in his direction. Seeing that Aya was confused, he elaborated. “You’ve seen my coat. Omi and Ken both have jackets. It’s handy, you know, to hide stuff in. Helps you blend in too. Which sounds better? Or, you could try on a couple.”
He thought for a minute, and quickly decided a jacket wasn’t going to hide his sword. Yohji should have known that.
“Coat.”
“Good call,” Yohji said, wearing that same forced smile. Aya couldn’t see his eyes now, not with his sunglasses pushed up like that.
Korat nodded, shuffling more things, dragging out several long pieces and unwrapping them from garment bags and plastic.
“Here, maybe this one,” he said, holding out a long coat of dark gray. It was close cut like Yohji’s, with a high collar and zipper closure. When Aya didn’t take it, Yohji stepped forward to do so.
“Try it on,” he told the redhead.
Aya nodded, and slipped his arms into the coat as Yohji held it up. Korat had unearthed a flimsy, full-length mirror. He propped it against the wall and wiped it down with his sleeve. Aya stared at his reflection. The coat was nice, but it was tight, and it wouldn’t zip all the way up because of his collar.
No, he shook his head, simultaneously checking to see if Yohji was upset.
“Doesn’t have to be the first one we try. Ask Korat, took me three days.”
“No, you were a custom job. Too damn picky, that’s what you are,” the older man answered. Aya thought he was teasing, but he wasn’t sure. Slipping the gray coat from his shoulders, he let Yohji hand it back to the other in exchange for something solid black.
That turned out to be another long coat, one that swished around his ankles and tied with a heavy belt. There were smaller, leather ties down one side of the chest, and he reached to touch them, liking the fell of the supple material.
“Maybe,” he said. Yohji looked at him for a long minute, then moved to get the coat off.
“Something else in leather?” he asked Korat as he handed it over.
The thin-haired man paused to think, then nodded and went for one of the hangers on the door. It took a few minutes of jostling, but he came back with another coat. Yohji took it and held it up, letting Aya slip his arms into his before turning him around and doing up the fastenings.
They were buckles, three small but heavy ones to secure it. Aya liked that; it was tidy, somehow. Turning back to the mirror, he touched the silver with his finger before taking a step back to get a more general idea.
The coat was a mix of black and dark purple, the color of deep shadows at dusk. The collar was more open, with lapels that folded back securely, not fussy. The hem ended just below his calves, but there was a high slit in the back that would give him room to move.
He tested that, stepping back and lifting his arms. The coat was heavy, but it was soft leather, not restricting him.
It was…
“That one?”
“Yes.”
“A fine choice,” Korat grinned. “Now, you’ll want something under that.”
~*~
“Buckles, huh?” Yohji asked with a smile as he guided the Seven down the deserted street. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aya watching him, but the boy didn’t answer.
They’d pick up his things later since some of them needed alteration to account for Aya’s thinner frame and, much to Yohji’s amusement, a few custom changes Aya had hesitantly requested. Though he was teasing now, Aya really did seem to appreciate straps and buckles, but maybe they were just practical choices. He had wanted them on the collar of the undershirt, to draw it higher up around his neck, and then one on the upper arm of each sleeve of his coat, to draw the material tighter there. Maybe it was something to do with fighting, but Yohji really wasn’t sure. What he did notice was the logic Aya had applied to the situation. That was new, and it made him wonder how much thought the boy was putting into it and what kind of strategical knowledge he actually had.
“Want to grab a bite to eat?” he asked. It was past midnight, but there were several all-night places on their way.
No, Aya shook his head. He hadn’t been eating much at all during the stressful week they’d had. The night before Yohji had talked him into not quite half a sandwich before he fell asleep on the table.
“We’ll go to Mira’s.” It was a diner Yohji liked. He got a light glare from Aya at not listening to him, but the boy wasn’t comfortable enough to say anything so Yohji got his way. Hopefully he could get Aya to eat some fries at least, and if all else failed, Mira had a great strawberry shortcake.
~tbc~
Notes: Review to hustle along the plot. Here, poke it with this spork.
Converting /tmp/phpE2S9bL to /dev/stdout