Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ It's too late to confess now... ❯ Omi ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

*****Part 1*****


"Ken-kun! I'm home!" Omi calls into the trailer, slipping inside the door, and allowing his bag to fall carelessly beside the chair next to the closet. "It finally stopped raining, but it's still so dark out. Why are all the lights off?"

Venturing further inside, the young blonde squints through the darkness, nearly tripping over a small footstool as he feels his way into the living room. He has been offered no reply to his greeting, and sees very little signs that anyone is home. This unsettles him greatly; they are all so worried about Ken and his recent change in behavior.

If the hot-blooded brunette is not here, then where has he gone, and what is he up to?

"Ken-kun...are...are you here...?" the increasingly uncomfortable young man whispers into the shadows, too afraid to move further forward, and yet too unsure to move back again.

Such disturbing silence. Omi finds himself shaking, trembling with cold and worry, while the misshapen shadows on the walls and furniture appear as if alive, hiding some monster within each and every fissure of fabric.

Why is darkness so frighteningly endless when the light is always so abrupt? He longs for that fleeting light, desperate for it, and despite any apprehension, inches his way over to the table on his right, groping blindly for the lamp switch.

Click. Not much for brightening the trailer, but enough for Omi to see in front of his face, and to help him make out the still profile of someone sitting at the far end of the living room, half turned away from the entrance, and with little acknowledgment to being intruded upon.

"Oh...there you are, Ken-kun." he sighs, somewhat relieved, and yet still very wisely tentative. "You didn't answer when I called. With all the lights off I...I didn't think you were here."

All Omi can make out from where he stands is the side of Ken's face, very blank and pale, with chocolate hair falling into his eyes, and the rest of his body buried in the cushions of his chair.

At first, Omi doesn't think his eerily quiet friend is going to reply, but eventually, Ken turns his head, gazing over at the younger boy coldly.

"Where would I have gone, Omi...? There is no place left for me to go."

The uneasy blonde swallows hard, unable to move, and wishes he could offer Ken a smile of encouragement, but discovers the corners of his mouth will no longer listen to his commands.

Something in the air is...wrong. Unnatural. Something about the look in Ken's eyes, the way he had just been sitting contentedly in the pitch black, ripples over Omi's skin like a bitter breeze.

He has never felt this way before. Not around Ken. A person who has always been like an older brother, forever a close friend, shouldn't be making his stomach twist and turn like this. It isn't right.

"Are you okay, Ken-kun...?" the timid boy chokes out, still frozen beside the table lamp. "I know what happened last night was...horrible...but you can't do this to yourself. Sitting here in the dark, all alone, the whole day, it...it isn't good for you."

"And what is?" Ken bites back, turning more fully in his chair, though Omi can barely see anything other than shifting shadows. "What *is* good for me, Omi? Pretending I'm not as messed up as you all think I am, though you keep lying to yourselves that I'm not? Is that what I should do? Pretend, like the rest of you?"

Taken aback by the sharpness of Ken's tone, Omi falters, wanting to be anywhere but here at the moment. A warm, inviting place with more light, more people, and a safe place to hide. Basically, he wants to run away. He wants to run away from his best friend.

If this really is his friend anymore...

Narrowing his eyes, more out of pleading anguish than anger, Omi shakes his head fiercely in denial. "How can you say that? We're not pretending anything. There's nothing wrong with you, Ken-kun. You're fine. You'll be yourself again in a few days, you'll see. It's just been too much lately."

"Lately?" Ken echoes with a derisive laugh, at last rising from his chair, and taking a few fluid steps into the light offered by that blazing lamp. "Do you mean these past few days, or these past few months? All these months, Omi, while I keep getting worse, and you keep getting better at fooling yourselves! Don't you get it!? I am *not* fine!"

CRASH! Ken's sudden anger erupts, and he backhands an arrangement of flowers to the floor, shattering the vase, and causing Omi to flinch away as the brunette approaches. The small bit of light in the room falls upon him fully now, revealing an image far more distressing than could have possibly been expected.

Brown strands of hair lay in tangles, eyes usually so vibrant and caring reflect nothing of the man that should be staring back, the movements of such strong limbs seem inhumanly rigid, and...

"...claws..." Omi whispers, so softly, he barely mouths the word. "Why...why are you wearing your gloves, Ken-kun...?"

"You just couldn't bring yourself to admit it, could you, Omi? None of you were willing to admit what was happening to me." the advancing brunette speaks darkly, ignoring Omi's troubled question. "Did you think it would go away, that it would get better? I like killing people, Omi. Something like that doesn't just go away..."

"Stop, Ken-kun, please." whimpers out Omi's heart-wrenched words, holding back frightened tears, and still unable to move as Ken steps in closer. "Please, you're...you're..."

"I'm what? Scaring you? Are you scared of me, Omi?"

Shivering in place, the cornered blonde cannot tear his eyes away from the glinting blades of Ken's claws, hanging all too comfortably at the assassin's sides. With only a foot or two separating the young men now, a mile would have been too close.

Ken's ocean eyes are like turbulent waves, hungry and erratically bright. His full form illuminated in the lamp light isn't even a shadow of his former self. He is something else now. Something else entirely.

"I'm not...scared of you...Ken-kun." Omi lies, his quivering lips all too easily giving him away. "We're friends. Why...would I be scared of you...?"

A wickedly sinister smile creeps into Ken's expression, chilling Omi's blood in his veins.

"I don't know why you'd be scared of me, Omi. Maybe because..." he trails off, grinning all the more. "...you should be."

Faster than anyone could hope to react, Ken lunges forward, driving his claws into the young boy's stomach, and holding Omi close against himself as the horrified blonde clutches at his shirt. A silent cry is all that escapes trembling lips, and brilliant, blue eyes are wide with agony more unbearable than anything he has ever known.

The light from the lamp does even less good now, for Omi's vision is clouded, and his nerves are ablaze with the sharp sting of pain, within as well as without.

"Ke...Ken-ku..." he tries to speak, grimacing past the tears filing his eyes.

"Shhh...don't try to speak..." Ken whispers in reply, with his teammate still held against him, and his lips brushing Omi's ear. "It'll all be over soon..."

A sickening crunch fills the room as Ken twists his claws within such tender flesh, and the renewed suffering of the blow forces a true cry from Omi's mouth this time, sent ricocheting off the shadows and back again.

Gently, Ken lowers Omi's tense and shivering body to the ground, admiring the wince he is offered while ripping his claws free again. Blood is flowing so thick and freely already, in deep shades of black and crimson, staining the floor, both boys' clothes, and especially the steel of Ken's weapon.

Dimly searching eyes stare up into the brunette's cold, cruel face, damp with tears, and unwilling to believe what is happening, even as he feels the blood rising in his throat. "Ken...kun...this isn't real...it can't be...real..." Omi gasps, breathing with much difficulty as fluid begins to fill his aching lungs. "...you'd never...do this...couldn't...couldn't do this to me..."

"I had to do it, Omi." answers Ken's dead-toned voice. The smallest smile is still twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Don't you see? There is no future for us. We're killers. Weiss is all we are, and if I don't stop us, it is all we'll ever be. You have to understand. I couldn't let you become...what I've become."

"Iie...Ken-kun...pl...please don't...do this..."

The fading blonde is granted no reply, but sobs beseechingly to deaf ears, writhing painfully on the floor. Beside him, Ken has seated himself cross-legged with his claws resting harmlessly in his lap. He thought it was going to be difficult to watch his friends die, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach is not guilt. It is undefinable. Almost...peaceful.

"...please...I'm...so scared..." Omi voices, with tears drenching every word. "...I can't...see anything...anymore...Ken-kun...it...it hurts...please...help me..."

"It's almost over now." Ken replies, toneless and entranced. He can't take his eyes off of Omi's gaping wound, bleeding more and more as the color drains from the poor boy's face. "You won't have to be alone for very long. Youji and Aya should be home soon. They'll be by your side when you fall into Hell."

Omi's back arches in a sudden wave of pulsing anguish, and he bites his lower lip to keep from screaming. "...don't say that..." he cries, searching above him with blind eyes for the face of his friend. "Ken...oh, God...I...I don't wanna die...not like this..."

Though Omi cannot see him, Ken's forehead is slowly creasing in distress, and he has wrapped his arms around himself, rocking back and forth to ease his unstable nerves.

He is without emotion. He is overcome with emotion. He is angry. He is indifferent. He feels guilty. He feels nothing. He wants Omi to die. He wants to save Omi before it's too late.

Fuck it! He doesn't know what he wants, what he feels, or what the hell he is anymore! There is nothing to be done now. Once this road is started it must be followed to the end. He just has to keep Omi's voice from invading his senses. Keep that heart-breaking voice away...

"Shut up." Ken whispers, shaking severely, while Omi continues on, pleading with desperate words.

"...help...Ken-kun...please...don't let me die..."

"Stop."

"...I'm scared...it's so dark..."

"Stop it."

"...it doesn't...hurt as much...anymore...Ken...kun...that means I'm...God...please, no..."

"I'm not listening to this."

"...doushite...how could you...do this...to me...Ke-"

"I said, shut up!!"

Slice. Ken's right hand has brandished its claws, pulled back, and driven down through Omi's exposed neck, cutting the boy's words, and silencing him forever with a final, brutal strike.

At first, Ken's features remain twisted in rage and the excitement of the kill, his breathing heavy and labored. Ever so gradually, though, the sight of Omi's stricken face, frozen in the moment of fear and death, causes him to recoil. He pulls away, crawling backwards clumsily to escape the horrifying vision before him.

Dear God, what has he done?

(I...I had no choice...) the brunette resolves, his turquoise eyes locked on his friend's still and stiffening body. (Omi had to die...he had to. It's better this way. Much better. And soon...it'll be over...and they can all be together again...)

Picking himself up from the floor, Ken's delusions are holding fast, and he makes his way back to Omi's dead body, prepared to do what he must to keep the next homecommer from suspecting what awaits him.


*****A/N*****


I know what you're thinking. "You bitch, you killed Omi!!!" But please bear with me, and accept what happens as it comes. This isn't me writing what I want. This is me writing what I know Ken is capable of. That's what drives me crazy: Ken really could do this. Perhaps you disagree, I certainly wish I could, but I just don't know.

Anyway, thanks a million for the encouraging and thoughtful reviews! I have the incentive to go on now. But...more is even better! So, please keep READING and REVIEWING!

Till next part, minna!