Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ No Mercy ❯ Hiding ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Title: No Mercy
Author: Blythe
Archived: AdultFanFiction.net, MediaMiner.org, YxA ML, for now.
Disclaimer: I am Queen of the World and I own everything. Except Weiss and anything affiliated with it. This is a work of fanfiction and is not for profit.
Rating: NC-17, for future chapters and language
Pairing: Aya/Yohji
A/N: This is short compared to my normal chapters, but I needed to get something posted! So, this chapter is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine! This is for Bewsbud, because I promised and she asked nicely! Thank you to everyone who is still following along. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate that! I'll get back to the story as soon as I return from vacation, I promise!
Chapter 2: Hiding
Aya sat up in bed, scrubbing his face with both hands, then running them through his hair. That had to be the weirdest dream he'd ever had. How can you dream of someone else's dream?
Nevertheless, he had. He was certain of it. It was as though he'd been dreaming with his love and not of him. They say that you cannot see something in your dream that you've never seen in real life. All the so-called experts say that it's impossible. Still, Aya knew that in his waking life he'd never set eyes on that face, but he'd seen it in his dream and he'd known immediately who it was. Keiji Hanajima. Aya remembered the name from that night in cabin when Yohji'd been so scared and from the letter, where Yohji had finally given a few of the reasons why.
In his dream, Yohji had been younger, a kid, learning to survive on his own. He was streetwise and equally book smart, not to mention beautiful. Then, that man had picked him up. And refused to let him go.
In another part of the dream, Aya had seen Keiji on all fours, crawling across the enormous expanse of bed like a predator toward Yohji, who lay very still on the opposite side of the bed. Keiji had whispered one word as he reached his prey and loomed over the prone form.
“Mine.”
Aya shuddered as that image from the dream came to the fore of his thoughts. He remembered being in that same pose, that same threatening posture when Yohji had held up his arms in defense, had begged for mercy. Aya couldn't help but wonder what had happened next.
Between having read Yohji's letter a thousand and one times and now, having dream visions of his past, Aya was slowly beginning to understand a few things. As he re-examined the many cryptic comments or incongruent reactions Yohji often had to things, Aya began to comprehend of his lover's thought process.
He was starting to really understand why he left.
Now, if he could just find the damn man. Say all of things that he should have said when they were still at the cabin. Articulate, once and for all, what he really means instead of the insipid words he'd chosen before that had left too much open to interpretation. Or misinterpretation, in this case.
He'd told Yohji that what was between them wouldn't end when they got back to the Koneko, but had never bothered to identify exactly what had started between them. He'd told Yohji that he wanted to stay with him, but allowed it sound like he'd only meant that night.
Still mulling over the things he wished he'd done differently, he grabbed a t-shirt and some sweatpants. He trotted down the steps and out the door, barely pausing to slip into his running shoes.
Reaching the corner, he turned left and started at a fast jog up the road. He normally went right, always right, actually, but today, he needed a change. Maybe a fresh landscape would give him fresh ideas. He was willing to try anything at this point.
He ran further than he normally would, weaving around unfamiliar blocks, up and down new and different streets. He stopped, bent over, hands on knees, to catch his breath in front of an old building. Nondescript, aging brick, climbing ivy staking its claim to everything it encompassed. Old, wood and glass doors to the foyer, gave the structure a sense of antiquity, as though it has stood here forever, while all of the other shops and apartments had sprung up around it. It should have stuck out like a sore thumb with all of the metal and glass surrounding it, but it didn't. Between the dark brick and the ivy, it sort of melted into the shadows. `Hiding in plain sight,' he though and then laughed at himself. He admired the building for another moment before turning toward home and a much needed shower. He never noticed the curtains twitching in the fourth storey window.
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Yohji slipped into his favorite pair of jeans and wandered back to the bathroom to finish toweling his hair. He didn't bother with a shirt since it would only end up damp around the collar. He didn't feel like putting in the effort it would take to use the blow dryer, so he worked the towel over his scalp until his hair was no longer sopping, then left it to lay on his shoulders.
In the kitchen, he grabbed the first aid kit from the cupboard at the far end of the counter. Being significantly larger than the average, this kit did not fit in the bathroom medicine cabinet.
He sat at the table, near the window, and held his hand in the now streaming rays of morning sun. It was so much easier to see in natural light.
He grabbed a pair of tweezers and began the arduous task of removing slivers of ceramic tile from the back of his right hand. Once again, he was grateful for his ambidexterity, the job not being hindered by having to use his left hand.
Once he was satisfied that there were no remaining shards, he sterilized and bandaged his hand. He was relieved that tonight's job was another stake-out and he hadn't really fucked up by injuring his hand on a night when he had to kill somebody. Not that he wouldn't be able to if he had to, it was just convenient that he didn't.
Yohji gathered up his supplies and stowed them away again. He still wasn't hungry, but figured it was time for a nicotine jump start and went to search out his cigarettes. He found them, after searching the bedroom and around the computer desk where he'd woken, on the sill of the front window. He'd come here to enjoy the night air and give his eyes a break while he smoked. It must not have been long after that when'd fallen asleep since the pack never made it back to the desk with him.
He lifted the window, allowing the slowly warming air to waft through the apartment and clear out the stale smell that sometimes settled in old buildings. He stood with one hip on the wall, hand at his lips, eyes on the street below. He watched the few early commuters making their way to the bus stop, the train station, the car pool. There were a few bar stragglers who were just coming home, as opposed to heading out. There were a few people who just always seemed to be out, neither coming nor going.
Then, something caught his eye. Something that should most definitely not be there. A flash of red from up the street, headed his way. He stared, transfixed as the figure of his love came into view.
Aya stopped right in front of Yohji's building.
Yohji was paralyzed, overwhelmed by the maelstrom of emotions that assailed him. Fear, lust, anger, love. There was pain, a physical twist in his gut and he staggered back from the window. The curtain fell back from where he'd pinned it with his hip.
He sat on, or rather dropped to, the floor trying to regain his breath. Getting to his knees, he moved back toward the window, positioning himself to see and not be seen. He watched Aya look over the building again before turning around and heading back the way he'd come.
Yohji lit another cigarette and set about berating himself for his reaction to seeing Aya and talking himself out of what it really meant.
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Throughout his day working at the Koneko, Aya found his thoughts drawn back to that building. There was something odd about it. It didn't fit in that neighborhood and yet, had he not stopped directly in front of it, he probably never would have noticed it. And that thought, that expression, `hiding in plain sight,' didn't seem appropriate. Not in reference to a building anyway.
`Why would a building need to hide?'
No, it simply didn't make sense. Still, Aya trusted his instincts and his instincts were screaming that the structure was important somehow.
He pushed the thoughts from his mind for the remainder of his shift, focusing on the tasks at hand. There was a mission that night and he couldn't be distracted. He resolved to jog that way more often, but beyond that, he let it go.