Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Crazy Sunday Mornings ❯ Shot to the Heart, or, Gregariously Reconnoitering Inconsequentials OR Going Steady ( Chapter 9 )

The door opened to a quite harassed looking Aya who went straight to the sink for long gulps of tap water. Ken, blissfully unmindful even if the apocalypse was to happen at the very moment, noted quietly that here was one of them, and thank goodness. The TV show Ken was watching segued into a newsflash report where a perky, pink-suited (fashion abomination, to Aya's opinion*), twenty something woman who filled the two Assassins in with the latest in the news.

 

“… where a body of a young woman is found. There appears to be no visible attack marks save for a wound on the left side of the chest that the police has noted to be the same wounds found in the earlier dead bodies found this month…”

 

Aya felt as if his ears perked like those of hounds whose sensitive ears detect the slightest move from a bush. He walked then stood behind the sofa where Ken sat and watched the rest of the news.

 

“…the victims so far are an old lady, a shoe-shine boy, a thirty year old businessman and now this twenty-six year old post graduate student found in all different places …”

 

With narrowed eyes, Aya felt his mind coming to a conclusion. He muttered, “Hello, what's this?” as if he found something interesting.

 

“… the coroner confirmed the death of the previous three victims as having occurred three days before the bodies were found which makes it a Saturday. The police have yet to solve the cases of the three earlier bodies. There had been a rumor that the bodies plus the present one found today and also confirmed to have been dead since Saturday are all victims of one serial killer…”

 

“But there's hardly any pattern to the choosing of the victims.” Ken noted. Aya `hned' in agreement. Then Aya commented, “But there is a pattern to the killing. In this case, the serial killer finds the victim as inconsequential.” The perky reporter was now interviewing an investigating officer who was trying to dispel the fear of a serial killer on the loose.

 

“But then sir, how do you explain the curious wound found on the left side of the chest on all the bodies?”

 

“So, you're saying that there's a killer out there who started killing just this month, and who only kills on a Saturday without leaving any visible marks save for a wound on the chest…”

 

“Left side of the chest.” Aya corrected.

 

“… okay, left side of the chest,” Ken continued, “ who chooses random victims and dumps them in random places, and leaves no evidence and no hint of a motive whatsoever?” Ken looked up to Aya, who just nodded grimly. Ken shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. We've met with weirder ones. Think the agency** would be looking into this?” Aya cocked his head to one side, considering Ken's question. Then a moment later, he replied. “Well, if this is just a case of a serial killer, probably not. But if this is going to tie up with a larger, organized crime kind of sort, they probably will.”

 

They continued watching the news report until it concluded, and Aya made for the stairs. Ken, as if suddenly remembering, shouted out to Aya who was in mid-step.

 

“By the way, where've you been?”

 

“Reconnaissance.”

 

“Oh? For a new mission?”

 

But Aya was already upstairs, walking towards his room. There's no need to tell Ken for what he had been out for, he thought, and there's no need to remind him also that the wound of the victims on the news were something they'd already seen. But before he entered his room he stopped and then leaned back to look at Yohji's door. It was slightly ajar. Aya discreetly looked around before he walked over to Yohji's door and noiselessly pushed the door slightly wider to see that no one's inside. Putting the door back the way it was, he looked around suspiciously, then turned towards the other stairs at the end of the hallway leading out into the rooftop.

 

* * *

 

Yohji couldn't believe what he was reading. He didn't want to believe. Here in his hands, in read and re-read photocopied and noted, highlighted and doodled on paper, was the key to all the shit he's been having.

 

“Kudou.”

 

Almost jumping, Yohji turned around even if he didn't need to see the person to know who it was. Only one of them insisted on calling him by his last name. And only one of them had that `could've-been-sexy-if-it-didn't-freeze-your-balls-off-first' kind of voice. He grimaced at an oncoming Aya with a determined set jaw.

 

“Oh gods, he wants to talk to me…” Yohji muttered to himself, and made a half-prayer, half-plea to any merciful creature that happened to be on prayer duty in heaven today. He stopped himself from blurting out `what do you want from me now?' and changed it for the more polite

 

“Hey Aya~n. Whaddaya want?”

 

Aya's left eye twitched almost imperceptibly at the nickname and Yohji grinned a little at this.

 

“Kudou, we have to…” he stopped, saw the mission folder, and then gestured to it. “What's that?” Aya asked, suspicion tingeing his voice. Yohji held up the folder and casually looked at it, as if it was of no import. “What, this?” Aya gave his long-suffering sigh that he usually uses in conversations with idiots like Kudou^. “Yes.” “Oh…” Yohji grinned sheepishly, “…this. Well, it's nothing. Why do you ask?” Aya held his gaze for a moment, then `hmphed', knowing that when Yohji was like this then the man really wasn't telling even if you castrated him then and there. So he settled to sitting down on the roof beside Yohji, who promptly scooted a bit away from him, either to give him room or just get away. Probably both, but Aya put it to being one of those inconsequential facts.

 

“Kudou…” Aya repeated, looking Yohji in the eye, “… we have to talk.”

 

This exact scene gave Yohji a feeling of déjà vu. It's just like when some of his casual girlfriends sat him down and looked him in the eye the same way Aya did, with the same determination, and the same line “We need to talk.” This is usually followed by Yohji's callous “sorry babe, but I don't do serious relationships”. The very fact that this was happening now to him but with AYA made him feel a great deal uncomfortable.

 

Yohji gave Aya a look of dread then asked, “You're not going to ask me to go steady with you, are you?”

 

Aya's face remained the same, determined yet emotionless, and if he thought that Yohji was a right well idiot, he hid it well. He answered a casual and noncommittal “no” to Yohji's absurd question. Yohji visibly relaxed as he “aahed”, but some doubt remained in him.

 

“So what is this all about?”

 

Aya is known to be brutally straight-to-the-point. He spares no one and foregoes polite euphemisms and half-truths. There is even an urban legend about him that said he would tell an emotionally unstable pregnant woman who was just left by her jerk of a boyfriend that yes, she was fat and looking rather ugly at this point^^. And that kids cringe from him because he'd tell them that there is no Santa Claus, and that Barney the dinosaur is just a big violet bullshit***. Not that he was malicious; he just wasted no scruples on words (this was one of the reasons why he prefers to be silent most of the time- it seems he offends somebody because of anything). So when Yohji asked him what all of that was about, he saw no reason to beat around the bush.

 

“Are you murdering anyone on Saturday night?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*contrary to popular belief, Aya can judge fashion. He's just not keen on buying himself clothes because it's a waste of precious money.

 

**Ken meant Kritiker, of course.

 

^ That's to Aya's opinion. Whether or not Yohji is an idiot is one I'd rather not comment on. My sister happens likes him.

 

^^ This is, of course, just an urban legend. Aya, though brutally honest, has tact and timing, which puts him a step higher from the gregarious Ken, gregarious being stretched to the farthest of synonyms in this case.

 

*** Barney isn't bullshit. I'm just not taken into him. I rather like Bert from Sesame Street better. There's just something wrong with the color clashing, singing, unidentified specie of dinosaur. And the Santa Claus quip, well, let's just say belief in him varies.

 

Ah-hah! Okay there we go. I don't know if I'm going to do any pairing. Scratch that. Let's just see what happens. Thanks to those who reviewed. Uh, to those who haven't, please do. Appreciation or not, feedback is feedback.