Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Last Child ❯ And I Face My Fear... ( Chapter 2 )

Quick thanks: MsMonroeLives {Thanks; I'm trying to make this one of my best!}; Koji-chan {Yeah, Youji is a bloody jerk in this… I have no idea why I made him do that *smacks her muse upside the head*}; Phox {Hee hee, thanks. `Wow' always means something good.}; Cory {Yeah, I feel bad for Aya. Youji will definitely get his, though.}; Maple {Everyone hates Youji… I wonder why ^^;;}

Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz and all of its characters are property of Kyoko Tsuchiya, Koyasu Takehito, and Project Weiß.

Please read all warnings posted in part one.

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I know that wishing gets you nothing in life except pain and misery. Wishing… it's a silly thing, really. I have proof of its falsity, but it's fading, as all bruises and blemishes do in time. I haven't left my room all day. I can't hear the laughter of all those girls anymore, so the shop must be closed. I think I'm ready, now… ready to face my fear. The bruises gracing my unnaturally pale wrists have faded somewhat and, although it's still noticeable, I'm no longer limping as much as I was this morning.

The others have not left me alone. Early this morning, Omi came knocking on my door, wondering why I hadn't opened the shop yet. Then I heard Youji's voice, telling Omi that I was sick, and wouldn't be working today. For some reason, I started to cry again when I heard him speaking. Where had this compassionate man been last night?

I push all thoughts of him away, focusing on the task at hand: getting dressed. Normally, I would pull on a sweater and a pair of jeans. Instead, I struggle into a loose pair of track pants and a plain black shirt. I'm not going anywhere, so why dress up? I can barely think straight… I become angry, close to violence when I think about Youji. I don't know why. Sighing, I quickly brush my hair, not really caring how I look. I unlock my door and step into the deserted hallway.

And I face my fear.

I go downstairs to the kitchen. No one's here, so they must be in the shop, cleaning up. Now that I'm down here, I can hear them talking and laughing, as if everything is normal. I move slowly through the kitchen… my body refuses to let me make any quick, sudden movements. Wincing, I reach up and take a glass down from the shelf and fill it with water. A shout and a loud crash passes through the door of the shop, startling me, and I drop my glass. It shatters as it hits the floor, sending water and shards of glass flying across the kitchen. It seems so loud, but not nearly as loud as the silence that follows it. I hear the door open, and Omi walks in, suspiciously eyeing the broken glass on the floor.

He smiles when he sees my, his bright blue eyes shining happily. "Aya-kun! You're up! Are you feeling better? Do you want anything to eat? Do you need any help?"

I blink, confused by his barrage of questions. He takes my silence as an answer, then gets down on his hands and knees to pick up the glass at my feet. Shakily, I crouch down beside him, not noticing when the long sleeves of my shirt pull back from my wrists. Omi sees them and gasps, dropping the pieces of glass in his little hands to grab my arm.

"Aya-kun, what happened to your wrists? They're all bruised!"

"…nothing."

I pull away from him and get to my feet, walking stiffly over to the table. A stupid mistake on my part, because I hear a stern voice behind me.

"Aya-kun, why are you limping around like that? Did you hurt your ankle or something?"

I turn to see Ken, bending down to help Omi pick up the glass. When I don't answer him, he gets up and approaches me, looking more serious than I've ever seen him. He sits across from me, asking more questions. I don't pay him any attention, because there's movement behind him. Apprehension… no, fear wraps it's icy fingers around me as Youji enters the room. Ken must notice me staring over his shoulder. He twists around in his chair then jumps to his feet and circles the table when he sees Youji.

"Youji-kun! Have you seen what Aya-kun has done to his wrists?"

Youji looks amazingly frightened. He probably thinks that I've cut my wrists in an attempt to end my life. "N-no…"

Ken moves beside me and grabs my arm, pulling back my sleeve to reveal my purpled flesh. "Look at them! It looks like he…"

Something in me snaps, and I feel incredibly angry. I clamp my fingers down on Ken's intrusive hand and shove him away from me, sending him crashing into the wall. I shudder and reach out to my chair for support. I miss, and I collapse to the floor, knocking the chair down beside me. I feel tears threatening to fall, and I let them. I feel vulnerable and weak. I hide my face in my hands, not comprehending the hushed voices above me. Someone tentatively touches the top of my head and I flinch away, fear still gnawing at me with its icicle fangs.

"Aya-kun, I won't hurt you."

I look up, sniffling like a child. Omi is sitting beside me, gently patting my hair as you would a distraught kitten. Youji and Ken stand across the room, watching us. Ken is nursing a sore arm and Youji… Youji is very near to crying. He knows my fear; he has seen it and touched it.

Omi wraps his arms around me, helping me to my feet. He leads me out of the room and upstairs to my room, where he sits me down on my bed and tells me to wait. Seconds later, I can hear the bathtub being filled. I almost smile. Omi's cure for everything is a long, hot bath. He returns to me and takes me by the hand, pulling me into the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him than reaches out to me. I back away from him, but I cannot get very far in the small room.

He smiles and holds out his hand in a gesture of kindness. "I'm not going to hurt you, Aya-kun. I promise no one will see you. Just me."

I'm amazed at the amount of trust I feel for the boy. I move closer, not looking at him as he undresses me. He helps me as I slowly sink into the hot water, silently thanking Omi's love for excessive amounts of bubbles. We sit, not speaking. I stare at the dissipating bubbles while Omi reads a computer magazine. He doesn't harass me with questions, and for that I am eternally grateful. Finally, I can't endure the silence any longer.

"Thank you, Omittchi." I use that silly nickname I've heard Ken call him. It always makes him smile. This time, he laughs a bit, but quickly turns serious. He sets his magazine aside and gazes up at me imploringly.

"Aya-kun, I need to know. What happened to you?"

I close my eyes and tighten my fingers into fists. I know I have to tell him. I just don't know if I can say it out loud. Thinking about it makes me feel the pain all over again. His hands caressing me gently, as a lover would, than restraining my arms… his hot, sweaty flesh pressed against mine… his low moans of ecstasy… my tears and blood. It's all so vivid in my mind, always present, waiting for the moment when my guard goes down. I open my eyes at last and face Omi. I'm dully surprised to see tears glimmering in his bright eyes.

I take a deep, soul-searing breath… and I face my fear.

"After the mission last night, when everyone was sleeping… he came into my room, very intoxicated. I wasn't frightened at first because I thought that he felt the same way for me that I did for him. He touched me gently at first, like a mother touches her sleeping child. He brought me to bed… I didn't stop him because I felt wanted… I felt needed. But when I did ask him to stop, he became violent. He restrained my arms behind my back and forced me onto my knees. Then he… he…"

I sob in frustration. I can't say two simple words… two words that I thought I would never use in the same sentence. Omi knows what those words are, though I can tell by the way he has tensed that he wants to flee the room. Instead, he shifts as close to me as he can without actually climbing into the water with me.

"Aya-kun, who was it? Who did it?"

I take another shuddering breath.

"Youji…"

My voice is so low that I can barely hear it… but Omi does. His face is filled with conflicting emotions: anger, fear, disgust, surprise…. even pity. He gets up, having decided on one emotion. Rage. He turns away from me, ignoring my pleading voice, begging him to leave it alone. He yanks open the door and stomps down the hall. He's already at the stairs before I can pull myself from the lukewarm water. I hastily put on my pants as I stumble after him.

When I finally reach the den, Omi is already hollering at Youji. They standing in front of the television screen, blocking Ken's view of the soccer game he is trying to watch. Instead of complaining, like he usually does, he stares up at Youji and Omi from his place on the couch, a bewildered expression on his face. I hover in the doorway, listening to the harsh flow of words, mostly coming from Omi.

"What did you do to him, Youji?"

Youji glared down at him, realization dawning on his face. "Sounds like you already know, kid. Why the hell are you gettin' bitchy with me, anyway? I already apologized…"

"A lot of good that did! He hasn't eaten all day! He's limping and his wrists are bruised. Did you apologies get rid of those? NO! How stupid can you be, Youji? You've hurt him, deeply, and no words can fix that."

Omi's angry little speech touches me and I'm suddenly no longer frightened… just incredibly hurt. I step into the room and everyone goes quiet, looking at me as if I might start to cry. I'm beyond that, now. Youji moves closer, appearing anxious.

"Aya, please… I never meant to hurt you. I was drunk, I told you that. I've apologized… what more do you want?"

And I face my fear.

"Get away from me. I swear, Youji… if you ever touch me again, I will not hesitate to kill you."

Omi looks shocked at my words, as does Ken. But Youji looks as hurt as I feel. He tries to talk, but I won't let him. Ken nervously clears his throat.

"Uh… what did Youji-kun do?"

"He… he…"

I can't say it… my fear stills haunts me. Youji tilts his head curiously.

"Say it, Aya."

"He… he r-r… you…"

"Say it!"

I fall back under his harsh voice. He's crying openly now, glaring down at me. Loathing takes over all the rage and fear I was feeling… loathing for him, loathing for myself. I look back at him and say three words that I would have never said to anyone… I wouldn't dare.

I need you.

"I hate you."

~//~//~//~//~

I stand on the top of a tall building, feeling the wind in my hair, brushing over the bare skin of my torso. I shift my weight, feeling the gravel shift beneath my boots. I grip my katana tighter, anticipating. I'm not sure what it is… but I know that someone is coming. Then a voice reaches my ears… my name. My real name, whispered as if the wind itself were calling to me.

"Ran…"

I turn slowly, searching for the source of the gentle voice. I know I've heard it before… a soft, hushed whisper, like a lover, beckoning me.

I see them, standing the sharp edge of the building, swaying slightly under the force of the wind. I move closer, lowering my katana as I realize who he is.

Youji stands with his back to me, facing the vast wasteland that is Tokyo, watching her many lights shine in the eternal darkness. I take another, hesitant step, this time dropping my katana to the ground. He holds out his hand, silently demanding that I stop. So I do, not knowing why. Youji spreads out his arms and throws his head back, like a fallen angel begging to return to Heaven.

"And I face my fear…"

My breath catches in my chest as I hear his beautiful voice speak the words that have been my mantra, my prayer for the past day. I watch in motionless awe as he turns to face me. I bite my lip in anticipation. I need to see him…

"Your fear is no more, Ran…"

I am shocked to see that Youji's eyes are not the deep forest green that I have come to love, but a sharp amethyst… an exact match for mine.

I close the distance between us, reaching out to him. He leans away, smiling, then falls back, his eyes never leaving my own…

~//~//~//~//~

I wake up instantly, drenched in a cold sweat, the damp sheets twisted mercilessly around my legs… on the floor. When was the last time I fell out of bed? I cannot remember. Sitting up, I can see the glowing red numbers of my clock. It's only 10:34 at night, which means I've only been asleep for an hour. It also means that Omi and Ken are still out - movies or some frivolous activity like that - and I'm alone in the house with Youji. Sighing, I rip the too-hot sheets from my legs and toss them back onto the bed, than quietly go down into the kitchen for a drink of water.

To my surprise and fear, Youji is sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, holding an unlit cigarette in one hand and staring into a steaming cup… it must be sake. He doesn't look up when I approach him. I can feel the rage building up inside of me again, as it did earlier today. I slam my hand down on the table, wincing as the shock travels up my abused wrists. His cup rattles, spilling some of its contents onto the polished wood. Youji looks up, dazed, ignoring the sake creeping along the table. I narrow my eyes at him, furious.

"Once wasn't good enough? You have to get drunk again and r-… hurt me?"

Youji blinks rapidly, not understanding why I'm yelling at him. "What? No… it isn't sake. It's tea." He pauses, biting his lower lip in a nervous gesture. "Aya… Aya, I'm so sorry for r…"

"Don't say it!"

He stands, giving me a frustrated glare. "Why not? Are you too good for that word? Would you prefer if I said that I sexually assaulted you? Well, fuck you, Aya. You aren't so perfect. You aren't some beautiful, perfect thing carved out of ice… you aren't. So fuck you."

"Y-You raped me! Okay, I said it. Are you fucking satisfied now?"

Youji looks taken aback, but only for a mere second. He leans over the table, appearing two feet taller than me instead of the actual two inches.

"You have the temperament and the attitude of a spoiled child, Aya. I have apologized about a dozen times, I've been yelled by two angry assassins, I've had someone tell me that they hate me, and that same person threatened to kill me. So what? I can deal with all that shit. I can deal with people hating me and not speaking to me. You can't even begin to accept the fact that you were raped. You're nothing but a fucking child."

He starts to turn away, but I grab his wrist and twist it behind him, forcing him wince in pain. I blindly slam him into the table behind him. Youji yelps as his delicate tailbone is crushed against the wood, and he leans back to alleviate the pain, consequently exposing his body to me. I lean over him, pressing him onto the top of the table, restraining his arms over his head with one hand; my other hand rests lightly on his throat. I want him to feel my pain, to taste and hear my fear.

I want to do to him what he did to me.

I kiss him, hard and brutal… our first kiss. I'm surprised when Youji growls low in his throat and kisses me back with force, biting and sucking on my invading tongue. He wraps his legs around my waist, pulling me closer. He tears his mouth from mine seconds later, panting heavily in my ear. I sink my teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, reveling in the sweet rush of blood and adrenaline. Youji growls again and thrusts his waist against mine, our hips and erections grinding together in an intense combination of heated pain and pleasure.

Youji suddenly breaks free of my grip and shoves me away. I move to hit him, but he holds up his arm and I pause, remembering my dream. Youji stares at me as he sits up and proceeds to back towards the door. His gorgeous eyes are heavy-lidded, beautifully darkened with lust, fear… and something I don't dare name.

"Aya, are you doing this because you hate me, or are you doing this because you want this… need this as much as I know you do?"

I stay quiet, not knowing how to respond to such a question. I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore.

"Come to me when you know…"

Youji leaves the invitation open, allowing me to do with it as I want. I watch him leave the messy kitchen, heading for the stairs.

What do I feel? I do not know. Lust and hate and fear? I leave the kitchen and pace the hallway between the front door and the stairs leading up to our rooms, where I know Youji is waiting for me. I don't know what I feel, but I know what I want, and what I need. I turn to the stairs and take the first step.

And I face my fear.

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Part three is in progress…

So, what do you think? I'm sure some of you were expecting a nice, romantic lemon. So sorry to disappoint you, but this ain't the place for romance! This be the place for angst and good, hard yaoi lovin'! Cheers!