Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Razorblade Romance ❯ Track 005: Bury Me Deep Inside Your Heart ( Chapter 5 )

Track 5: Bury Me Deep Inside Your Heart

 

 

Let me wake up in your arms,

Hear you say it's not alright.

Let me be so dead and gone;

So far away from life.

 

 

Close my eyes; hold me tight,

And bury me deep inside your heart.

 

 

All I ever wanted was you, my love;

You're all I ever wanted,

Yes, you, my love,

You're all I ever wanted, just you.

 

 

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He sleeps restlessly nearly every night, tossing and turning. There's nothing I can do for him; the only times that he sleeps well come after missions, when he's so exhausted that dreams can't pervade his mind.

 

 

He says that he loves me. For a month, again and again, he's been telling me how much he loves me. But why, then, does he call her name in his sleep?

 

 

I knew that this was a terrible idea, that we should never have gotten together. I'm just a replacement for some dead whore, because Yohji will never get over that woman and the way he killed her. It never hurt this much when all we did was fuck, because I knew that I was just a body to him; but when he said that he loved me, I thought that I actually meant something, that he was finally moving into the present.

 

 

I guess I was wrong.

 

 

Here we are, on another night, replaying the same scenario as always. I woke up when he started to move about, muttering in his sleep about something I couldn't quite hear. Sleep has fled, and I doubt that I'll be getting any more now. I'm simply lying here, staring at the ceiling, running my fingers through Yohji's hair. It calmed him slightly, but soon enough he started to mumble again. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I love him, I truly do, but with every day that passes, it seems more and more one-sided.

 

 

I'm a flawed killer; how can I possible compete with the memory of a dead girl? She can't bring Yohji new hurt, and she will never leave him. The best I can do is hope that he never tires of me.

 

 

“A-…Don't!...Asuka…”

 

 

The sound of her name…the syllables that mean so little to me, but everything to Yohji…he doesn't really want me. It's clear that I'm only here so that he can pretend that she still shares his bed. I can't, I won't let Yohji wallow in his past. I couldn't give a shit what happens to me, but if I'm enabling him to drown in grief, then I can't take it! I have to get out of here.

 

 

Moving quietly from the bed, I stand looking at the figure left alone in there, looking small and vulnerable in the large bed that takes up quite a portion of our…his room. My hands unconsciously wrap around my shirtless torso, fingers absently tracing a scar that runs across my left bicep. I don't want to leave him here but…he'll never be able to let go of his past if he has me playing the part of Asuka.

 

 

I take a final look at the restlessly sleeping man, tanned shoulders bared by the sheets, and walk out into the hallway. Breathing deeply, fully considering what I'm about to do, I go back to my own room. I haven't slept here in a month, ever since I watched Yohji sleep and he confessed to me…but here I am once again, broken because I was foolish enough to believe that something good could actually happen to me.

 

 

I'm in my own bed, alone as I have been for years…I should be used to this, I shouldn't need to know that there's a lanky body pressed up next to me…But in the space of a month, solitude has become too much for me. I'm weak, I'm useless now, a pitiful excuse for a human with real emotions. I don't deserve to have anyone sleep next to me…I don't deserve to have people acknowledge me…I don't deserve to be alive. There's nothing for me while I'm living. Maybe if I was dead, Yohji would elevate me to the same status that Asuka enjoys in his heart.

 

 

I don't want to die, but that's nothing but a weakness, a fear of death. I'm a coward.

 

 

The clouds outside scatter, and moonlight shines through the uncovered window. The silvery beams seem to point directly towards the corner of my room, where a polished katana rests against the wall, glinting under the invading light. Although the blood is washed from its blade, I can still sense it, the blood of the guilty and the blood of my own body. It's my own life essence that falls more freely from the blade, though, the memories of nights with moonlight like this passing through my mind at breakneck speeds.

 

 

The release of pain, the feeling of bliss that followed when I started to black out from some of the deeper cuts…a shiver runs through me, but whether it's from the memories or the cold, I don't know.

 

 

I could tell that sleep wasn't going to come, but now my mind keeps returning to the same place. All I can think about is the peace that comes from bleeding out over the floor…the pain that purifies, that lets me live to kill another day…

 

 

My mind switches to autopilot, retracing the motions it used to go through years ago. Getting out of the bed, I walk to where my katana stands, admiring the way it catches the moonlight upon its blade. Weighing it in my hands, the familiar feeling of holding a deadly weapon is strangely relaxing.

 

 

From the nearly-empty wardrobe I grab an old shirt. It's white but it will have to do; I don't have the patience for digging something else up. Placing the katana on the floor, I lower myself to sit next to it, throwing the shirt beside me. I grab the sword in my right hand and use my left to pull up the leg of my pants, the anticipation making the movement rough and fast.

 

 

Yohji is completely gone from my mind, as I'm focused only on myself and the sharp blade in my hand. The world beyond this room fades away, save for the light coming in the window, and my existence no longer matters. Emotionally, I'm gone, my mental capacity narrowed until all that is inside me is physical pain. The feel of the blade running through my skin is all I know. My hand shakes, and the blade moves further than I intended.

 

 

I look down at the limb, blood flowing from the wound. I think…that I cut too deep. Feeling slightly woozy, I grab the shirt and ball it up, pressing it against my thigh while enjoying the sting of the material against damaged flesh.

 

 

Lying on the floor, sleep finally comes.

 

 

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I feel arms around me…familiar arms, ones that I know have held me before. At the edge of my consciousness, I hear someone…crying? I hope they're not crying for me, it's not worth the effort.

 

 

“Aya…Aya, why did you do it? I should've been here…Fuck, I gotta clean him up!”

 

 

It's Yohji…he sounds panicked. Why does he care? Maybe I bled onto his favourite shirt…Not that it matters, he's leaving. Good, now I can get some more sleep…Selfish bastard, waking me up for no good reason…

 

 

The door slams back against the wall, and I hear feet running into the room. The person, Yohji again I suppose, kneels down beside me.

 

 

“Can you hear me, Aya? I'm going to have to stitch up your wound…Come on, say something, Aya! Please!”

 

 

Limply, I raise my arm, trying to wave him away. He doesn't care, so why must he bother me? I feel him grasp my hand, and I want to shake his false sympathy away. I don't want pity, whether it's real or simply a charade. He holds tight, and I don't have the energy to stop him from touching me.

 

 

“Okay, Aya, you have to let go of the shirt. I can't help you if you don't let me at your wound.”

 

 

“Yo-…Leave me alone…I don't want you here, you don't care about me…let alone love me…I want to stay here…I'll be fine without you…”

 

 

My voice sounds weak, and it sickens me. Something wet lands on my face…he's crying on me? Why would he do something like that?

 

 

“What are you saying, Aya? Of course I love you, and you won't be fine unless I can patch you up. I really don't want the others to see you like this, but I'll get them if I have to!”

 

 

His other hand lands over mine, pressed against the shirt I've somehow managed to keep across my thigh. I don't know how he figures that I need stitches…he can't see the cut. I guess there's blood everywhere; I wasn't as careful last night as I usually am. Out of practice, I suppose.

 

 

To get him to be quiet, I drop my right hand to the floor. The shirt, however, stays exactly where it was. I start laughing, because there's something about it that's intrinsically funny. I can't pinpoint what, exactly, but it's definitely funny. Ah, I think my laughter has disturbed Yohji…

 

 

“Okay, Aya, just…stop moving, okay? On the count of three, I'm going to peel the shirt away, and it's gonna hurt. One…Two…Three!”

 

 

I register the fact that there's a painful pulling on my leg, but it really doesn't bother me. I've felt worse physical pain, and it's all just unimportant to me. He's doing it so slowly…I wish he'd move faster so that he will leave me alone sooner…

 

 

“It's almost off…Holy FUCK, Aya, I can't believe you did this to yourself…it's all my fault, it has to be…Oh God, love, why…Listen, Aya, gorgeous, I'm about to stitch you up. Just hang on, please, Aya! Stay awake here…”

 

 

Having him so close to me…I should love it, but all I can think is that he doesn't really like me, let alone love me. I love him, for some idiotic reason that I can't divine…but he's just using me as a substitute. He should leave me alone…

 

 

I'm still lying on the floor with my eyes closed. I don't want to look at him. He's saying something else, but I'm not listening, too lost in thoughts about why he's bothering with me. Once again, I vaguely register the feel of getting stitches, but it's not affecting me.

 

 

“Almost done, Aya…There, you're stitched up. I suppose I can't talk to you now…I don't even know if you're awake…Guess not…but Aya, if you can hear me, I truly do love you. I don't want anyone else…You're all I want…I love you, Aya!”

 

 

I'm so tired still…My senses start to fade, and I fall asleep to the sound of his lies and the feel of his hand pressed against mine.

 

 

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It's been a week since Yohji found me, bloodied and cut open over my bedroom floor. As usual, he's been saying that he loves me…but he still doesn't. I have to talk to him; I have to know what's going through his mind! But every time I try to ask…he changes the subject. He clearly doesn't trust me.

 

 

“Hey, Aya, whatcha doing here alone? I-…”

 

 

Because Yohji disturbed my peace, I'm going to make him talk to me, open up to me. He loses his sentence when I grab him, pulling him down so that he's sprawled over the floor next to me.

 

 

“Geez, man, if you're that horny you could've just-“

 

 

“Shut UP! Yohji, this is serious. What the Hell is going on with you?”

 

 

For a second, an expression of confusion passes over his face. The true emotion is depressingly fleeting, though…it's soon replaced by a huge smile, the kind that sickens me to the depths of my stomach. I turn my head away, unable to witness such an obviously fake expression.

 

 

“There's nothing wrong, Aya! Everything's okay, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? I'm in love with the most beautiful guy in Japan, and probably the world!”

 

 

His voice, joyful and phoney, is incredibly difficult to listen to. His words are false. Is everything he does a lie? I can barely bring myself to speak to him, but I know that I have to. If we don't go through this, I can't keep seeing him everyday, sleeping next to him each night. It's too painful.

 

 

“Yes, there is, Yohji. Every time I try to talk to you, you put on a bright smile and pretend that everything is okay! Everything you do is fake, so how can I possibly believe a word you say?”

 

 

He looks like he's about to interject; I continue before more falsities can fall from his lips.

 

 

“Just once, ONCE, I want to hear you say that there's something wrong. You don't talk to me about anything important, and we've been together for a month! It's clear that you don't trust me, and if you don't trust me, you can't possibly love me. Why are you lying to me, lying to yourself? I'm not the one you love!”

 

 

The smile drops, and I mentally sigh in relief. I'm getting through to him, for the first time. But I need him to talk to me…I have to make him see that I won't be a substitute. A look of intense anger comes over his face…he begins to yell, a show of emotion that would usually be hidden away inside, behind a beaming grin.

 

 

“Why do you keep SAYING that, Aya? I've never lied to you, and yet you STILL continue to accuse me of completely stupid SHIT! I. Love. YOU, and if you're so emotionally fucked that you can't see it, that's not my problem! There is NO ONE ELSE, okay? If one of us is messed up, it's YOU! You're self-mutilating, and I want to help you, but you're just as closed off!”

 

 

Lies, he keeps lying to me! Grabbing the book I was reading before he came into the room, I throw it against the wall. The pages start to break away from the impact, and the bang reverberates through the room. I'm glaring at the furious man across from me, and I hear footsteps approaching the door. Omi's voice floats into the room.

 

 

“Aya? Yohji? Please, calm down! I…we don't want-…”

 

 

“Go AWAY! Just…Leave us the fuck alone!”

 

 

The sheer venom in my voice terrifies even me, and Yohji flinches. The movement brings my attention back to the blonde man, and anger flares up even more.

 

 

“If you want to lie to me, at least your dreams tell me the truth. You keep yelling HER name at night, you bastard. Get the fuck out of my sight, until you're ready to tell me the truth. I love you, but you don't love me, and I don't want you to lie to me out of some misguided sense of pity. Get OUT!”

 

 

A filthy look on his face, Yohji stands without a word. He opens his mouth, but closes it almost immediately, and throws the door open. The satisfaction I feel at getting him to listen to me is tinged with sadness about his retreat, and I'm conflicted. I want him gone, but I love him…Omi's voice makes the sound of feet stop in their tracks. He's always been able to make Yohji do what he wants…something I envy.

 

 

“Aya, you listen to this too. No, Yohji, I don't want to hear it. I told you that I was perfectly fine, even happy about you two being together- as long as it didn't get in the way of Weiss. I won't have Kritiker finding out and splitting our team. Now, Manx will be here in ten minutes. She will NOT know that anything is wrong, okay? Today is apparently something incredibly important, and you WILL be in the mission room when she gets here. No excuses, either of you.”

 

 

The authority in his voice surprises me, but I keep quiet about it. I know that he has a point, and I don't particularly feel like arguing with him. Yohji grunts his agreement, and he walks away. I can see Omi still looking at me through the open door; he won't leave me alone until I answer. Sighing, I nod, and he walks off with an angry look on his face.

 

 

Carefully schooling my emotions, as I've been doing for years, I repress everything that Yohji makes me feel, everything that makes me weak and vulnerable. My anger makes it easy to patch over the love I feel, masking it and allowing me to rid my mind of Yohji. I don't want a thing to do with him outside of work until he can admit that he's been lying to me for a month. I close my eyes, getting ready to meet Manx.

 

 

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“…So, in short, there is an important organisation that we must have investigated for traces of Esset activity. It may take a long time, but only two of you will be required.”

 

 

Manx, as professional as always, doesn't seem to notice the tension radiating throughout the room. I'm pointedly keeping myself from looking at Yohji, but I can tell that he's doing the same. I already want to make up with him, but I have to keep to my principles. I will not give in. He has to know that I'm right, and that I won't let him hurt himself with his past.

 

 

“…In order to keep difficulties to a minimum, it has been decided that the two who go will be Siberian and Balinese. You'll be leaving tomorrow.”

 

 

Ah…I should probably have been listening to Manx, as I now have no clue where Yohji is going. Not that I care. It's probably to another city somewhere…if only two are needed, it shouldn't be too serious.

 

 

“That's all for today. Balinese and Siberian, you should pack for an extended stay in Europe. Bombay, I need you to stay behind. You others are dismissed.”

 

 

EUROPE? Extended stay? Oh God, what have I done? Yohji's going to leave; he's going to leave me alone…

 

 

“Aya…I have to talk to you. I…We have a lot we need to go through.”

 

 

Yohji's voice sends an irrational anger through me. It won't hurt if I hate him when he leaves. I can't talk to him. Turning away without answering him, I move straight to my room, locking the door. Although he could easily pick it open, he respects the action and I know that he won't try and invade my privacy. I can't be around him right now. He needs to go, I can't stop him, and I have to let him leave. It's best if we don't make up.

 

 

Minutes pass, alone in my silence. Suddenly, a banging on the door breaks through the quiet, and this time, Ken's voice addresses me.

 

 

“Hey, Aya, put aside your shit and come back to the mission room. Omi has something real important to tell us, apparently. Now.”

 

 

I consider ignoring him, but I know that he'd draw me out somehow. Deciding that it's easiest to just do as he says, I wait a token moment and then rise, moving out the door. I don't see Ken anywhere; I suppose that he's gone down to the mission room already.

 

 

Walking down the stairs, I don't bother checking to see if Yohji's in the room. I don't care. I truly don't. Omi stands in the middle of the room, an incredibly serious expression on his face. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak.

 

 

“Manx asked me to stay behind because she needed to ask my answer to an important question. A week ago, she asked me to take on the job…the job of my father.”

 

 

Ken gasps…Yohji says nothing. I simply stare into the room, not taking too much of Omi's speech in.

 

 

“I said yes. I'm no longer a part of Weiss, no longer Bombay. Now…I'm Persia. Because of this, I will be finding two new members for the team while Yohji and Ken are in Europe. Aya, I really hate to put so much responsibility on your shoulders, but it is your job to make sure the new recruits settle in. I will be leaving here tomorrow also. Duty calls, but I will send over the new men before the week is out.”

 

 

A sob catches my attention, and I see that Ken is openly crying at the news. I don't care how Yohji is taking it. Inside myself…I'm numb. Everyone is leaving, which is all I deserve. They can't stand to be around me, so I may as well not be here. I turn on my heel and leave the room, hearing Omi shout my name but not bothering to look back. I retreat to my room yet again, trying to sort out the thoughts in my head. They don't want me. But I don't care. I've been on my own before. I'll be fine.

 

 

A trail of wetness falls down my cheek. I can feel it, but I did not know that I was starting to cry. I'm weak, horridly fragile and weak.

 

 

Hours later, a note is pushed under my door. I easily recognise Yohji's messy handwriting.

 

 

Aya,

 

I'm leaving early tomorrow, and I don't know when they're going to let me come back. Please, take care. Don't hurt yourself again, it's not worth it. I know you're mad at me, but please know…

 

I love you, and I'll miss you. Everything isn't okay, but we both need to stay strong until we can meet again. You mean more to me than anyone else, living or dead.

 

Call me as soon as you want, whenever you want. I love you, and that's the honest truth.

 

-Yohji.

 

 

Pressing the note to my chest, I let the tears flow freely. Speaking to no one, I raise my voice.

 

 

“Yohji…I love you, too. Come back to me in one piece.”

 

 

A voice comes through my door. It could be real. It could be my mind finally breaking apart. Either way…it makes me infinitely happy.

 

 

“Thankyou, Aya. I will.”