Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 94 ( Chapter 94 )

94

 

Immer vorwärts, Schritt um Schritt,

es geht kein Weg zurück!

 

I woke to a soft roll of thunder. A glance at the clock showed the time as nearly noon, but there was no confirming light around the blinds. As I lay still, trying to calculate how long I'd been sleeping, the rain began to fall in torrents.

 

The blinds flickered and parted. Yohji stood in dim silhouette against the gray, a cigarette burning down between his fingers.

 

“What a day,” I murmured, struggling out of bed. “Did you sleep at all?”

 

“No.” Yohji turned toward me, sucked on his cigarette. “No, I was keeping watch.”

 

I padded toward him, my jeans chafing lightly against my skin. Neither of us had changed clothes since last night, though I'd shrugged out of my shirt at some point in my sleep.

 

With a smile, Yohji transferred the cigarette from his lips to mine.

 

For a few moments we just stood there, wreathed in smoke and listening to the storm. Then I gave him his cigarette back and leaned against his chest. He felt so solid, so warm, so very right. I imagined the window looking out on a seedy boulevard in Amsterdam, and smiled.

 

“Coffee?”

 

“Yeah.” I followed Yohji through a nearly dark apartment into the sanctuary of his kitchen. Without warning, the previous night's paranoia swept over me again as though the room itself were haunted. “Yohji?”

 

“Hn?”

 

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Something's still not right.”

 

Yohji dug some sweet rolls out of the fridge and set them on the table. “I stayed awake while you slept. Nothing happened.”

 

“I still can't shake it.”

 

Coffee was already made and mostly gone, a half-filled cup on the counter. Yohji turned the warmer off, filled a cup for me, then finished off the rest. “Bolster yourself a bit. We'll check around outside in a few minutes.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, then headed back toward the bedroom.

 

I tore into the sweets with a vengeance, forcing my body to abandon its fatigue and wake the hell up for real. By the time I went for the third bun, Yohji had returned to the kitchen. He'd changed clothes, and added a long coat against the rain. “Whenever you're ready,” he murmured, nabbing one of the few remaining sweet rolls.

 

I tipped back the last of my coffee and went to change. A nagging ripple in my mind prompted me to gather my gear and be ready to move out. I couldn't pinpoint it, but it gave me the unsettling feeling that I was being watched.

 

If Esset had found me, why were they waiting to strike? Maybe they didn't want to involve civilians. In that case, I owed it to Yohji to lead them as far away as possible.

 

When he saw me return to the living room, my pack hitched over my shoulder, he nodded grimly. “Ready?”

 

“Yohji, I think we're being watched,” I murmured. “Maybe you should just let me go out there alone. If they're giving you the chance to turn away -”

 

“Like hell,” Yohji replied, aiming for the door. “If anyone's out there, we'll deal with it together.”

 

“That's stupid!” I hissed, blocking him. “I couldn't live with myself if I led them to you!”

 

Instead of speaking, Yohji grabbed me by the arms and kissed me hard on the mouth. “And I couldn't live with myself if I just stood back and did nothing.”

 

I clung to him a moment, then nodded. “All right, maybe we're both being paranoid again. I'm going to risk a look around; if anything happens, knock me out and call for backup.” Before he could argue or I could have second thoughts, I concentrated on that annoying buzz that had been circling around since last night. Direction resolved to almost straight up, distance…the roof. I felt my hackles lift as I tightened my focus. There was someone on the roof, but I couldn't get a solid contact. “Let's take a look outside,” I whispered, blinking at Yohji.

 

He opened the door and peered out cautiously before venturing into the hall. I followed, keenly aware of the fact that I was carrying all my worldly possessions and gripping a pistol hilt in my coat pocket. This felt too real.

 

Yohji knelt by the opposite wall, reached down, and picked up something small and white. He frowned up at me. “It's your brand.”

 

I gaped at the broken cigarette, fresh and unburnt, snapped almost completely in half. Suddenly I understood. “Farfarello.”

 

“He's here?” Yohji growled, looking around and reaching for his wire.

 

Tears stung my eyes and I whispered, “It's time for me to go.”

 

Yohji sighed and nodded. “Somehow I'm not very surprised.”

 

Quickly, so as not to get noticed by any of Yohji's neighbors, I moved in close and kissed him one more time. This kiss tasted bitter and desperate, a kiss of goodbyes. I choked back a sob. “God, I don't want to go!”

 

“I know,” Yohji whispered against my lips, “but you have to.” I felt him smile, and he said, “I'll be here when you get back, you know. And if I'm not, look me up in Amsterdam. I hear it's a friendly place.”

 

I couldn't hold back the laughter, or the tears. “Maybe he's just here to say goodbye, and you'll be stuck with me.” My lies sounded about as convincing as Yohji's had, but I needed the hope.

 

“Oh, hang on a minute.” Yohji turned and went back into his apartment. I started to follow, but he came right back out holding a simple black umbrella. “You, ah, might be needing this.”

 

“Thanks. Access stairs?” I asked, hoping I wouldn't have to use the fire escape.

 

Yohji pointed down the hall.

 

“I'll let you know what I find,” I told him, then stole one last kiss.

 

“Be safe,” Yohji whispered. His eyelashes painted tears on my face.

 

I turned and strode decisively away, determined not to falter. A portion of my mind remained keenly aware of the loaded pistol in my pocket. If this were a trap, I would reserve one bullet for myself.

 

But if it truly were Farfarello, come to retrieve me back to the team… For one black moment I considered turning the gun on my friend.

 

Then I reached the access stairs.

 

By the time I came to the last landing before the rooftop exit, my breathing staggered roughly in my chest. I clung to the railing and fought down a cough. My head hurt; I couldn't concentrate. This could be extremely bad, and Yohji would never hear me.

 

Bad or not, I had to open that door. I hauled myself up the last steps and readied my gun. With shaking hand I gripped the doorknob, and turned it.

 

Within the meager shelter of the doorway, a pale figure turned from regarding the rain to fix me with a one-eyed golden stare. “It's time.”

 

 

 

 

 

A/N:

Immer vorwärts, Schritt um Schritt,

es geht kein Weg zurück!

 

Always onward, step by step,

there's no turning back!

 

“Kein Zurück” - Wolfsheim Casting Shadows

 

The inevitability of goodbye. Choices made in the past set the future in stone - something Brad Crawford is always reluctant to mention. Which choices, which futures? Ah, to have those answers would truly make all the difference.