Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Razorblade Romance ❯ Track 003: Join Me In Death ( Chapter 3 )

Track Three: Join Me (in Death)

 

 

We are so young,

Our lives have just begun;

But already we are considering

Escape from this world.

 

 

And we've waited for so long,

For this moment to come.

We're so anxious to be together,

Together in death.

 

 

Would you die tonight for love?

 

 

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Yohji believes that HE is the one going insane? Hn, I shouldn't be surprised that the selfish prat thinks he's the only one with problems. Can't he see that we're all shattered to the core, breaking apart around each other? Why does it not occur to him that we all have our ghosts? Our problems? The thoughts that weigh us down, take over our waking hours?

 

 

Why can't he see how much I love him?

 

 

I've been pointlessly roaming the streets for hours, after I woke up and found my bed filled by the same man who fills my dreams. I couldn't stay there with him, the bliss of having Yohji sleeping next to me negated by the cruelty of the fact that he was only there because a woman drove him to find a familiar face. Yes, I want him in my bed; but I also want Yohji to need me, not just the comfort of the first person he thought of.

 

 

I feel a burning twinge on the outer surface of my right thigh…the psychosomatic shock from years-old scars, a horrible reminder of past pain that seems to flare whenever the mental pain I feel passes a certain threshold.

 

 

{~~~~~~~~~~}

 

 

A darkened room's sole occupant is sprawled out on the floor, one leg bent at the knee to draw it closer to his body.

 

 

Moonlight flashes through the half-open blinds, illuminating the leg that rises up from the rest of the body. Trailing down the pale skin to pool beneath him is a scarlet stream, staining the carpeted floor and rolled-up jeans.

 

 

In his hand he grasps an antique katana, blade gleaming by that silver moonlight. His knuckles around the hilt are so tense as to appear white, even more pallid than his regular skin tone.

 

 

Once more, the man raises his forearm, the movement seeming languid and unhurried. The shape blade of the weapon makes contact with the raised, strongly-muscled thigh, just beneath an uncovered knee.

 

 

The man has no desire to end his life, no wish to take the easy path and finish his suffering. He simply yearns to feel, escape the loss of emotion that he can sense creeping up towards him.

 

 

With every life he takes, the boy inside him disappears more fully. He feels so little, his only link to humanity being the blood that flows from his wounds, just as all creatures possess.

 

 

The pain binds the man to reality, awakening him rather than numbing his consciousness. For the first time in too long, he feels alive.

 

 

A small groan escapes the bleeding man, his arm falling back to the floor. His fingers release the sword, his hand stretching to search the floor for a new object.

 

 

A reddened towel finds its way into his hold, the material crinkling slightly when the dried blood upon it is forced to separate.

 

 

Pressing the filthy towel to his open wounds, he attempts to staunch the bloodshed.

 

 

Still collapsed on the floor, the man drops into the subconscious realm of dreams, alone with his demons yet again.

 

 

{~~~~~~~~~~}

 

 

There are criss-crosses of scars on my upper leg, slowly fading as time passes. No new marks have joined them in several years, when I finally became drenched in enough blood from others that adding my own seemed superfluous. Ridiculous, youthful ideas, that I could save my innocence through self-mutilation…Now, I realise that there's nothing that could have possibly saved me.

 

 

I'm sure that Yohji's seen the scars. They're different to all the other marks that I bear, clearly not lacerations from battle with another. He's never mentioned them; not that it's surprising, we barely converse.

 

 

I…I want him to ask me about them.

 

 

But I never speak. When others ask anything, I reply with silence. Still, there's something about that irritatingly amazing man that makes me want to…open up, reveal everything, let him know all of my secrets.

 

 

He'll never ask. I've spent so long avoiding human social contact that he will never want to talk to me. The distance I've put between myself and others hasn't hurt this much before.

 

 

Fuck.

 

 

Why must I ruin everything that I do? Nothing can ever go right for me. When the prospect of happiness appears, something must always come up to destroy me again. Like Aya-chan…I was…overjoyed when my reason for living woke up, became responsive to the love I could show only her.

 

 

But then…she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and saw us after a mission.

 

 

It had been a particularly bad night, and Ken was struggling to stay conscious after being stabbed in the stomach. Nothing life-threatening, but I was supporting him to walk, and covered in his blood.

 

 

When the back light flickered to life, I felt my heart stop. My sister, standing before us, a look of sheer horror on her youthfully pure features…my world collapsed. She finally convinced her body to move, and within a moment she was gone. Without even thinking through what I was doing, I shoved Ken into Omi and made to follow Aya-chan. The only thing that stopped me…was the hand that grasped my shoulder.

 

 

Furious, I turned to punch whoever was actually touching me in the face. Yohji was clearly expecting the blow; he grabbed my hand, and used his grip to push me backwards.

 

 

“Clean yourself up. You're only going to terrify the poor girl more, if you try talking to her covered in blood. You should've gone through this shit with her earlier, dickhead.”

 

 

He turned on his heel, put Ken's arm over his shoulder, and pushed past me into the house. Usually, I would have ripped him apart for his insolence, but his words barely registered in my muddled mind.

 

 

There's very little afterwards that I can recall…I showered quickly, then approached Aya-chan's door…the exact conversation is of little consequence, as I struggled to explain what we do as Weiss…she was never going to understand.

 

 

A week after that horrid night, she was gone.

 

 

I originally figured out where she was, but soon she moved on, and I lost her. At this current moment, she could still be in America, she could be in a place like Australia, or she could even be dead. That final thought no longer sickens me…I stopped feeling when she ran away. The only thing which can raise emotion in me now is…Yohji.

 

 

Now that my sister is no longer my charge, I do not truly comprehend why I continue to hold her name. She's living her own life, or has naturally come to end it. There is no reason why a shell of a man should be branded with her female moniker.

 

No…that's a lie. I do know why I continue to go by Aya instead of my actual name. It's a terrifying reason, and I avoided the thought for a very long time.

 

 

I keep the name `Aya'…because it was given to me by Yohji.

 

 

The sound of my mobile phone interrupts that potentially dangerous train of thought. A quick glance at the screen tells me it's the house phone calling…it doesn't take a genius to realise what I'm about to be told. I put the phone to my ear.

 

 

“Aya? It's Omi. We need you to come back, Manx is here.”

 

 

“Hn.”

 

 

I hang up on him, keeping our conversation short. There was no need for embellishment. Checking the time on my phone, it occurs to me that I've been out for ten hours, with no stopping or eating. Not that it matters. I prefer a weary body to staying near Yohji, and breaking my heart.

 

 

A mission awaits.

 

 

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“Fuck! There's too many of `em! I'll draw them off, you get the target!”

 

 

It takes all of my considerable willpower to NOT follow him. This mission has gone to shit; everything is different than we planned. Yohji and I weren't supposed to come across this many guards, there are too many for just the pair of us to handle.

 

 

I step back into the shadows of an empty room as security rounds the corner. Seeing Yohji up ahead, they all follow him. Idiotic lemmings; none of them even think to check for another person. I have to eliminate the target quickly, as even Yohji can't win a gunfight with a wire.

 

 

“Bombay, Siberian. There's trouble, unexpected guards on the third floor. Balinese needs backup.”

 

 

“Got it. Be there in a couple of minutes.”

 

 

Hopefully those two have nearly finished the data collection and can lend Yohji a hand. I desperately want to be there for him, but I have a mission to finish, and I refuse to let emotions get in the way of my work. Let's see…recalling the blueprints I pored over earlier, this week's mad scientist-type should be through…Ah, yes, the door on my right.

 

 

I move to the office door, wary of any straggling guards who may appear in the hallway. Taking a split-second to ready myself, I slam the door open and throw myself inside and to the left. The room…smells like blood?

 

 

It takes me a moment to comprehend exactly what has happened here. A foreign man is sprawled out over his desk, a red pool colouring white paper and a blue shirt. A wound is dripping from the side of his head; most likely a bullet hole. The small pistol under his right hand seems to confirm this theory. With detached coldness, I walk over to the body. Gripping his long hair with one hand, I lift his head back. I recognise the face from the photos provided by Kritiker: it's definitely Nathan Clarke, English scientific genius and Dark Beast.

 

 

It seems that the weak man refused to join the list of people I have slaughtered. What a fool. Mission accomplished. Now to meet back with…

 

 

Fuck, Yohji!!

 

 

Sprinting away from the dead man, I head towards last place I saw Yohji. Flicking on my communicator, I try to keep a steady voice.

 

 

“Balinese, where are you? I'm coming for you!”

 

 

…Nothing. Oh God, he has to be okay. I cannot handle losing someone else this important…even if he doesn't know it. I won't let him die here! The sound of my earpiece coming to life almost startles me.

 

 

“…third floor…*wheeze*…storage facility. Too many…”

 

 

Shit, he's in trouble! Where the Hell are Ken and Omi? Storage facility…that has to be about two hundred metres from here! Speeding up even more, I go in the direction remembered from the building's blueprints. Left turn…another left…sixth door on the right…

 

 

My mind blank out of fear for Yohji's safety, I kick my way through the partially closed door. In a matter of moments, I've taken note of my surroundings and calculated how best to proceed.

 

 

No plausible cover exists in the room; an estimate of eight uniformed men on the ground, unmoving; four uniformed men standing, and beyond them…a hunched figure with his right hand drawing a wire from his left wrist. I can just barely see the blood dripping from the sleeve of his coat. I yell his real name, momentarily forgetting codename protocol in my shaken state.

 

 

At the sound of my voice, the four upright guards turn almost simultaneously in my direction. Raising my katana, I charge towards them, dispatching the first with a quick sweep upwards through the gut. Hastily dislodging the sword from the man's chest, I duck a wild punch from the second man, rising to plunge my weapon directly through his throat. He gurgles through his own blood as he sinks to floor, also dead.

 

 

The remaining two have moved away from Yohji, who is now pressing his hand to his bicep. He lets out a small groan, the sound catching my attention as I instinctively turn towards him. My concentration fleetingly broken, the sound of a gunshot combined with the feel of a bullet grazing my leg is unexpected. Fuck, I can't let myself get distracted by Yohji! These guards will kill us both.

 

 

Running on pure adrenaline as I am, the graze barely hurts. I should be thankful that the incompetent shooter has not had enough target practice. Raising my sword again, I head back for the two men, veering off slightly to avoid more gunshots. In my fury, both at them and at myself, it seems as if time has slowed right down. Lifting to strike, I take both men out with a single deep slash, horizontal across the chests. Before they've even hit the ground, I've taken to Yohji's side, grabbing him around the waist to still the slight swaying movements he is making.

 

 

“Yohji! Are you okay?”

 

 

“Abys…Ab…Aya, yeah, I'm fine. Just a b-bit of blood, nothing t-too serious.”

 

 

In my haste to get Yohji out of the room, I forget about the security force. With thoughts filled only with him, the prospect of more guards completely slips my mind. I don't notice the room's second entry opening, too concerned with keeping this vulnerable man upright. I do, however, notice the sound of twin shots and the burning pain in my stomach and upper back when the bullets enter and lodge themselves.

 

 

Releasing my grip on Yohji, a completely involuntary action, I fall to the ground as my vision blackens and narrows. I hear the familiar voice cry my name in concern, almost panic, but surely…it's merely the fancy of a quickly fading mind.

 

 

Why do I forget about everything when he's near?

 

 

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~Yohji's P.O.V.~

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He should be waking soon. Doctor Tsukiyono patched him up nicely, just another injury in our line of business. The gash on my arm where one of those bastards knifed me was also stitched and covered, there's nothing else wrong with me. So why do I feel so…injured?

 

 

It's not like Aya's never been hurt. God, he's been worse. He didn't even have to go to the bloody hospital, because the bullets are staying in. He might still be unconscious, but he's breathing fine and more likely to win the lottery than die at this point. So why…

 

 

Why am I sitting by his bed like some sort of frantic wife? Sure, I slept in here last night, but…we're not even friends! I don't feel for the guy, it's nothing like that. I just can't be bothered moving…I guess…It's not emotional!

 

 

“Aya…what've you done to me?”

 

 

Shit, talking to a sleeping man. I really am nuts. Especially as, in the possible case that he's awake, he'll probably try and kill me if he realises I'm here. He might have been nice to me hen he was pretty much sleepwalking but…I haven't forgotten about what he said when I had him pushed against the wall. My head flicks up when I hear the door open. It's Omi, looking concerned as usual.

 

 

“Yohji, you look totally exhausted. Go to bed, I'll stay here.”

 

 

“Thanks, Omi, but…”

 

 

“No buts, Yotan! I heard you come in the door last, or rather, this morning, you need sleep! Go, get out! Look, I'll even wake you when he opens his eyes, if you really want.”

 

 

“Nah, Omi, it'll be right. I'll go to bed. But don't stay up on this prick's account too long, you've got your own shit to worry about. See you tomorrow, kid.”

 

 

“Goodnight, Yohji.”

 

 

He lets the `kid' remark slide, which is pretty odd. He's probably just happy that I gave in so quickly. He didn't even have to pull out The Eyes. But I didn't want him thinking too far into the fact that I was sitting with Aya- I'm pretty sure that he has no idea what Aya and I do…did.

 

 

Fuck me, I'm stuffed. I guess Omi was right and I really do need to go to bed. I didn't get up `til midday today, but earlier events…it really took it out of me. Everything's piling up. The dreams, that poor blonde girl, Aya getting shot helping me…I'm now pretty much in the debt of every other Weiss member. Aya for stopping the guards from killing me…Ken and Omi for getting the other two security guys before they could shoot again…I didn't help at all. God knows if Aya even got the target…but the mission would come before me. It would have to, for that human icicle.

 

 

But why does that thought hurt?

 

Ah, screw it; guess I'm just going crazier in my old age. Bed time. Definitely.

 

 

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“Keep running, Asuka! We can lose them in the alley!”

 

 

…This again. I almost wish that I'd kept count of every time I had this dream- we must nearly be in the several thousands by now. Again and again…from memory, it's going to be three minutes and twenty-eight seconds until she's dead in my arms. I want to turn around, run in a different direction, but I hold no control over my legs. I'm a spectator inside my own body, aware of my thoughts but unable to change anything.

 

 

Running, jumping over piles of trash, weaving through alleys and back roads. It's perfectly familiar, no detail unchanged. The gunshot hits…now. Stumbling a bit further, we collapse against a filthy wall. I plead with her to run. Can we get this over with and wake up, already? It's too much for me. I don't need more weighing me down right now.

 

 

Reminiscent of the dreams and today's mission, another gun sounds just after Asuka gets up to run. She's hit in…the stomach and the upper back? Two wounds? This hasn't happened before…each detail is usually eerie in its conformity. The figure before me falls to the ground and…it's not Asuka. It's not even female. Before I can process any of this, a scream tears from my throat, animalistic and raw.

 

 

“AAAYYYYAAA!!!”

 

 

I still have no control over my movements, but the dream has gone further than usual. Practically crawling to his prone form, I desperately check for a pulse that I somehow know won't be there. I'm proved right, and the scene around me begins to dim and dissolve as I sit holding his pale body, red hair brushing against my arms.

 

 

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“You in there, man? Yoh-ji, is there life inside? Earth to Yohji!”

 

 

“Oh, shut up, dickhead. Go play with some poor innocent kiddies or something.”

 

 

Can't Ken get that I have no time for bickering with him, because my thoughts are…preoccupied. Every moment of that dream has been replaying in my head. I've studied it, tried to get frigging tiny little hints about the meaning, and even looked up a dream dictionary on the internet!

 

 

But it's all come back to one thing. I like Aya. I like Aya? Oh my God, what am I? This is reducing me to a tittering high school girl! It isn't possible that I could feel anything for Aya. I mean, we fucked for ages, surely something would've come up before now! I've never loved a man. Never even come close.

 

 

Besides, I can't love anymore. Asuka made sure of that. Look at what she did the other night with that girl…sending me to Aya…

 

 

Realisation hits me harder than anything before. The dream…what it tells me…If Aya died…I would die too. He could've died for me yesterday…he only got hurt, and it completely threw me out.

 

 

My hands grip in my hair, the sensation waking my mind, and the movement catching Ken's attention.

 

 

“Yohji, are you okay? Something wrong? You're acting totally weird!”

 

 

“I…Yeah, Ken, I'm fine. Just tripping slightly. It's-…What the fuck?”

 

 

Thank God for timely interruptions. Aya staggered into the store, obviously determined to act normal, but clearly hurting from his wounds. Stupid, stubborn, foolish bastard! He shouldn't be up!

 

 

“Aya, get back inside! You shouldn't be out here, dickwad!”

 

 

“Oh, don't act like you care, you stupid a-ah!”

 

 

It's bad when raising his voice hurts him. It's his favourite thing to yell at people! Seeing him hurting…it's bad. Shit, I'm gone now, aren't I? All this crap out being emotionless towards him…I really do like Aya. It took him getting shot for me to realise it, but…I want him.

 

 

It's all making sense…why I acted so irrationally when he broke off our fucking…why my world felt like it was collapsing when he got shot…the dream…my God. It's true…I'm in love with a man who doesn't have feelings. Who barely knows how to be civil. Who is the most beautiful person I've ever laid my bloodstained hands on.

 

 

Somewhere, Neu is laughing her despicable little head off. This has to be a punishment. Unrequited love for a man who I had…but somehow drove away. Shit, Aya's shaking dangerously on his feet now…

 

 

“That's it. I'm dragging you back to your room, even if I have to knock you out. Come quietly, because I have no problem with hurting you a little more.”

 

 

A cocky façade…I can't let him know that anything has changed. If he picks up on it, he'll run faster than the speed of light in the opposite direction. Walking over to him, I slip my good arm around his waist…a mirror image of yesterday, when I was the injured one. He's putting up a weak struggle; it just makes me more determined. He's going back to bed.

 

 

“Work with me here, idiot! I move my arm up, and it'll be right on your wound. You don't want that, now do you?”

 

 

“Shut up and help, if that's the way you're so inclined. I have no interest in your pathetic whinging and baseless threats.”

 

 

Swallowing my anger, I move him back into the house. I feel like I never want to let go of his slim waist…if I do, I'll never get to touch him again. It's my fault he got hurt…if I let go, I can't protect him. I'm…possessive. It's all too much…

 

 

“Let me GO, fool! You don't need to come in, if I made it to the store I can get to my bed. Just…get out of here, Yohji!”

 

 

There's something in his voice, his eyes…it seems oddly familiar…he's lost! It's the same as the way he acted when I was pressed against him…the pure confusion that he's trying to hide…

 

 

Like in one of my dreams, I feel as if I have no control of my body. I keep my arm around him, walking him right up to his bed. My mind is screaming for me to leave before he attacks, forget this bullshit that I'm hallucinating. Aya feeling uncertain? It can't be real.

 

 

As if possessed, I lay him back on his bed. Like I'm dealing with a fucking woman. The look in his eyes has changed to venomous anger; I think he's come to that same `female' conclusion. I really might get killed here. Still…I can't stop. Leaning over slightly to press him back into the bed, I catch sight of his mouth. It's open slightly, as Aya pants through the pain of fairly fresh wounds. For once, I actually think my next move through.

 

 

It's suicidal, and I'm fully aware of this fact. But I want to do it; so I do. For the first time in too long, I press my mouth to his. He stiffens slightly, but his mouth stays open. The feel of his lips is intoxicating…even more so because I know that this could be our last kiss. He's about to throw me out. I don't want to be rejected again. Before he can bite me, I draw off. It takes a massive amount of resolve…my heart feels like its ripping apart. I don't want to leave him here…but I have to. It's best that way.

 

 

Without saying a word, I turn to leave the room. Fighting the pain that threatens to overcome me, I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. That's when I feel it. A hand grasps the waist of my pants, using surprising strength to spin me around and knock me off balance. I fall to my knees, trying desperately not to fall right onto Aya.

 

 

The hand moves to the back of my neck, and my head is dragged down to his, joining our lips once again. The feeling of his tongue battling into my mouth to meet with my own…it's bliss.