Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Crazy Sunday Mornings ❯ Going Loony ( Chapter 4 )

 

“Something tells me we're not in Kansas anymore…”*

 

It wasn't much of a secret, but Yohji liked to watch movies not dubbed in Japanese. He even reads from time to time, English novels. He understood the English language just fine, as fine as a half-English half-Japanese young man does. And that's exactly what he is, he tells himself, a half-half. His `Mumsy'† always told him, “two halves make a whole, always remember that Yeo-gee.” Yohji's brows wrinkled. He didn't know why his `Mumsy' gave him a Japanese name she couldn't pronounce without making it sound like a halfway yodel. Probably to make him feel authentic, to make him feel he wasn't what he was- a poor little bastard. But that was years ago, when he was a snotty little kid looking up to his mumsy's concerned green eyes, asking why, why don't I have a daddy like the other kids do?

 

And so, that was why he borrowed a line from a western movie he watched during those years to describe the predicament he was in right now- knee deep in perfect shit. It would have made him feel better if he had one of those small dogs beside him to say that line to. All he had was Momoe-san's fat tabby cat. He sighed. It looked up at him, and then decided that he wasn't interesting enough and curled up on the floor, purring. He always considered himself a dog person, and in fact had a dog named `Buster' precisely because the dog wasn't Buster material. It was ironic, but probably that wasn't what he was thinking when he named the dog that afternoon in his 8th year. He just wanted someone else named wrong, just like him. It was terrible of him, he now knows, naming the dog `Buster' when it should have been `Pup', because that's what his dog was, a pup cute enough to belong to some little girl instead. But that was what he liked about dogs. They're too simple to care. But they can be great friends, for a little bastard boy living with his mumsy in a country where people don't look like him.

 

Now cats, they're a different story. They're… well they move gracefully, they don't lap up your face and leave the couch wet with drool. They don't eat your footwear, tug your sleeves constantly for a walk and best of all, do not poop just about anywhere and anytime. But they can look straight to your soul, these cats. They know. That's why Yohji never got the hang of them. He doesn't like being looked at the way a cat does. They'd let you keep them, give them food and warmth and all, but they'd never let you own them. It's as if they had pride. It's like they sneered on the thought of being owned by apes who decided to walk upright. Cats are complex. Cat's are more for the likes of Aya, cooped up, solitary, proud, secretive, and always watching you with that hidden sneer you just know they're hiding.

 

Now Buster's long dead, mumsy's a far way away, and Yohji's just so alone in knee-deep shit.

 

* * *

 

“How is… Kudou?”

 

Omi stopped himself before he rolled his eyes. Aya had been walking about downstairs, not really doing anything. From time to time, he'd walk up cautiously to Omi or Ken, pretend to not give a damn, and ask them about Yohji while looking at his nails nonchalantly. This was the twentieth time, and though Omi considered his self a patient enough person, the way Aya paces and asks the question was beginning to get on his nerves.

 

“He's upstairs Aya, alone in his room, just as he was 30 minutes ago.”

 

Aya looked up the stairs with narrow eyes. Omi sighed and stopped typing on his laptop. Aya's just so suspicious of everything! He made a little cough to get Aya's attention. Aya turned to look at him, his face filled with suspicion mixed with something…else. Because of that look, Omi bit back the comment he was about to say. Aya raised his eyebrows in question, and Omi stopped staring at him.

 

“Weren't you manning the store with Ken?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Uh… okay.” There isn't really anything to answer to that, Aya standing there on the landing with hawk-like stare, as if willing Yohji to suddenly appear at the top of the stairs. `No', Omi scolded himself as he shook his head unbelieving, `the word caring and Aya in the same sentence does not work! Besides, look at him, he's more suspicious than worried about Yohji-kun! Get a hold of yourself Omi you're just seeing things! Best to rest awhile... to stop seeing things…'

 

“Hey, Omi, you see where Aya…” Ken asked aloud as he came into the living room, and then stopped as he saw Aya there, still as a statue. He looked at Omi and mouthed the words `He's at it again?' Omi nodded his head. They gave each other a look, and Omi was tempted to make circling motions with his finger to his head, but it's not the proper thing to do. So he was relieved when Ken did it himself, mouthing the words `he's going nuts' for reassurance. Then Ken turned his attention to Aya and said, “In your own time Aya, at your own pace.” Ken returned to the shop, leaving Omi alone with a still statue-like Aya to ponder what the heck did Ken mean. Then Aya spoke.

 

“I'm going to have a word with him.”

 

“With who…” The question died on Omi's lips as he watched Aya climb the stairs with a face of distant resolution. `Oh well', he told himself, `I might as well make me useful…' he turned to the direction of the shop and started walking `… seeing as to how everyone's making a loon of themselves.' And his face turned from a grimaced look into a standard smile the moment he stepped into the shop. “Hello ma'am, what can I do for you?”

 

* * *

 

The sun was now setting, making everything seem to look the color orange. He was still sitting on his bed, back to the door and face looking out of the window (at least, theoretically, if the window wasn't all covered with pieces of cardboard taped together). It had been a long time since he pondered this long and this deep. He had already made the turn to philosophical, and treads the worn path to the question `why?' He wondered if this is what Aya did every time he was alone in his room, which is often, and if for the sheer length of pondering, did Aya already have the answer to that question. Maybe one day he'd try pondering with Aya, and then they'd compare notes. Of course, he thought, that one day would never come. Most plans he had to spend time with the introvert all fell under the `maybe one day' category. He felt it unfair that he got along with the kid and Ken, but not with Aya. Mostly it's unfair for Aya. No one should be left all alone. Yohji felt like the Humanitarian for this thought. It's harder when there are people around you, but you still are alone. Just like Aya.

 

`No man is an island Yeo-gee' His mumsy would quote every time he was down and out. Yeah, he thought, no one should be left all alone. But they could be left all alone. And they are. Wouldn't it be a wonderful thing if all should's could? He smiled darkly, his face mirthless. `I'm still a fucking idealist', he thought, `and that would be the end of me, I know. `

 

Not if I can help it.

 

If he had heard it from someone sneaking up on him behind his back and then held a gun to his head, he wouldn't even have moved a muscle in his face. But no one was behind him, his senses told him, and the voice came… from his head. So in the manner of all bewildered, he started looking up and about, trying to find the source of the voice, wide-eyed but tight-lipped. He was an Assassin after all. Assassins don't gape. `It's just not done. `‡He mouthed the familiar phrase, calming himself with the voice of his mumsy.

 

“Who are you?”

 

The voice was familiar. It sounded like… his own voice, but… in a different way. It's as if his Id began talking to him… `Oh fuck,' he thought, `… am I going crazy?' He tried a line from a book he read when he was a kid, `Is that you conscience?' **

 

`Me? Nope. I'm still on vacation.'

 

`Oh, good.' Yohji grimaced, `my smart-aleck conscience replied. This means…' His eyes rested on the mirror to his left, and then he gaped. There, on the mirror, was his reflection, only which it didn't gape at him as he was doing. It grinned menacingly, and then it gave him a tiny wave in the form of an elegant hand movement.

 

Surprised?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* said by Dorothy to Toto, in The Wizard of Oz

† Mumsy because, it's his mom whose English… well, I know you figured it out by yourself, but I just wanted to… make it clear.

‡ The phrase his mumsy used to tell him to explain things. It's an English thing, I believe. They say this to explain why a thing isn't proper to do or to happen. I understand it as a sort of `just because', but with socio-cultural justifications. Like, `mumsy why can't I wear this to the high school ball? It's all the rage!', and his mumsy would answer, `It's just not done.' Or, why don't assassins gape? It's just not done.

** from The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents by Terry Pratchett

 

Yes, definitely turning into mystery. I wonder; will I get some reviews? HINT HINT. Hehe.