Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Reason ❯ Chapter 1

"Reason"
By Viridian5
1/19/03

RATING: NC-17; Aya/Yoji. If m/m interaction bothers you, pass this by.
SPOILERS: "Mission 7: Entfuhren -- The Memories Return," "Mission 11: Abkunft -- Breaking the Spell," "Mission 12: Abschied -- Why," "Mission 13: Bruch -- Rain of Revenge," "Mission 15: Duell -- Hunters of Revenge," "Mission 16: Schatten -- Return to Battle," "Mission 17: Kritiker -- Pride With No Name," "Mission 21: Trane -- Memories," "Mission 25: Ende Des Weiss -- To the Knights," "Verbrechen," and "Strafe."
SUMMARY: Weiß is helping/forcing Aya to move on with his life.
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first.
FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com.
DISCLAIMERS: All things Weiß Kreuz belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiß, Polygram k.k., and Animate Film. No infringement intended. These entities are far more disturbed than I am....
NOTES: I blame this on Sarah, pimp extraordinaire. I wouldn’t be writing about florist/assassins if not for her. Thanks to Kass for being willing to read me no matter what new fandom I’m doing. Thanks to all the folks who encouraged me to go on while I was posting bits of the work in progress on my LiveJournal.
Since Turner Classic Movies doesn’t provide an appropriate soundtrack--please, not another musical, Grandma!--I spent a lot of time listening to Zerøspace by Kidneythieves (I know, Sakura isn’t amused), the maxi-single of "Crazy" by Seal (Thanks, ‘nat!), United States of Mind by Covenant, "Insect/Suspect" by Pigface, "When I’m Gone" by Three Doors Down, "Return (Coming Home)" by The Crüxshadows, and "My<Dsmbr" by Linkin Park and Mickey P. featuring Kelli Ali to block it out.

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"Reason"
By Viridian5
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Aya had stopped walking about five minutes ago and just stood still on the sidewalk, while Omi watched from a distance, wondering if Aya had reached his destination. He seemed to be staring at something nearby, lost, his face looking softer and more vulnerable. He appeared to be happy and in pain simultaneously.

Omi walked up next to Aya, who didn’t notice him, and looked in the same direction. Yes, Aya’s sister had put that expression on his face. She sat inside a nearby café with friends at a table near the window. The part of Omi that killed for a living was appalled that she would make herself such an easy target, but most teenagers didn’t have to worry about such things.

Then again, Aya-chan wasn’t a normal teenager. If she had been, Fujimiya Ran never would have taken on his sister’s name to seek justice after their parents’ deaths and her coma. And he wouldn’t be standing out here, unable to approach her now that justice had been exacted and she’d awakened.

Aya stood at a place and angle that would enable him to see her inside the café but would prevent her from noticing him there outside. With his distinctively red hair and striking looks, he always had to work harder to avoid notice.

It confused the hell out of Weiß to think of the two Ayas, brother and sister. Omi supposed that Aya had never really thought that she’d come out of her coma, and since he’d kept her a secret he’d be the only one talking to or of her. Weiß had come up with some naming contortions to differentiate the two when talking amongst themselves. "Aya’s sister" always worked, while "Aya-chan" was another possibility. Keeping them straight when simply thinking of them wasn’t difficult, especially not with her restored to vivacious life while Aya remained Aya.

Believing in using the weapons he had, Omi made himself look as cute as possible, then said, "It’s chilly out here." He shivered for effect. "We should go inside and have a nice, hot tea with Aya-chan. That way we won’t have to hide anymore."

"Are you following me?" Aya asked, finally noticing Omi, his face turning harder and sharper again. Not even the cold wind brought any color to his pale skin.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes."

"Playacting that death scene to fool General Powell has left us all out of sorts, and the trailer isn’t turning out to be as good an idea as it sounded at first."

"It makes us a moving target at least."

"It puts us in each other’s face all the time, and we’re all going a little crazy from it."

Aya nearly smiled. "That too."

"Yoji’s chainsmoking and drinking and going out with anyone who will take him. More than usual, anyway. Ken...."

"Ken isn’t doing well," Aya said softly.

Akira’s death had hit Ken hard, especially since Ken had identified so strongly with him. Akira and Kaori had just been seeking justice after the law had failed them, just as every member of Weiß had done. Having to act out Weiß turning on and killing each other to fool Powell right on top of finding Akira butchered had done Ken some damage. Ken had dealt the "killing blows" to Aya and Yoji.

Omi himself had developed an aversion to sweet scents recently and finally traced it to how the fake blood they’d used had smelled cloyingly sweet.

Aya had seemed fine with it all. During the act, he’d played the cold team leader who followed orders so strictly that he’d kill his team members without a qualm if their commander told him to. It hadn’t seemed like much of a stretch.

While Ken being quiet and withdrawn was worrying, for Aya quiet and withdrawn were standard operating procedure. If Aya felt any lingering mental effects of what they’d done, he’d never let them be easy to see. It forced Omi to work harder.

"So I followed you," Omi said. "I worry."

"You’re the only 17-year-old boy I know who has a maternal instinct."

"You all need looking after.... Aya-kun, she’s been awake for months. Talk to her. She needs her brother."

"Maybe she does need him, but I can’t give her that. Ran doesn’t exist anymore, not really."

"You’re Ran."

"I’ve been Aya for about two years, and Aya isn’t the same person Ran was."

He could be maddening. "You took on her name as a goad to vengeance. You achieved that vengeance. You even have Aya back. You can be yourself again."

"There is no self left to be. I ripped it all away. My parents had been beyond needing a son anymore. In her coma, Aya didn’t really need a brother--"

"You were still her brother."

"I was her sponsor."

"No. Her sponsor would have paid for her care but never visited her. You were there."

"I was not her brother. My family didn’t need a son or a brother anymore. They needed vengeance. I became that. Ran had to be sacrificed in the process. There’s no going back. I’m a killer, Omi, you know that. I kill for money. I’m good at it, and I’m going to continue doing it." Not that Kritiker would let them stop even if they wanted to.... "Working for Persia gives my work the flavor of executions instead of murders, but it’s semantics."

"I do know that." Being his team member and a fellow assassin. But Omi could see Aya building his case.

"We’re so isolated from a normal life that I think we forget how atypical we are."

"Akira and Kaori excepted."

Aya shook his head, obviously frustrated. "Look at her. Her parents are dead, she was in a coma for two years, she was kidnapped several times by insane killers, she was nearly sacrificed in a blood ritual, but she looks so normal now. She lives with Sakura’s family and goes to school. She has friends. She may even get a boyfriend someday." Aya looked away from her. "I want her to have a normal life without assassins in it, and I am an assassin. I’m also a pale shadow of the brother she remembers. My best gift to her would be to leave her alone."

That was the longest speech Omi had ever heard Aya make.

"But you’re not leaving her alone. You’re stalking her."

"I’m looking after her."

"You’re watching her obsessively from a distance."

Aya closed his eyes. "Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should stop."

Cutting off all contact completely. From Yoji, "Maybe I should stop" would have been sarcastic. From Aya, it could be all too real. "No! Aya-kun, talk to her instead."

"I’m scared for her. What Kaori went through only shows me that I’m right to stay away from Aya."

While the other members of Weiß had executed Powell, Aya had stood in front of Kaori to prevent her from seeing it. Omi had guessed that Aya saw his sister in her and wanted to protect her. Even if she had already seen her family and friends killed by Powell’s men, whatever innocence she had left was precious. In the end, Weiß and Manx decided that she would be better off and safer having nothing more to do with them.

It must have reinforced Aya’s fears.

Since Aya-chan’s awakening, Aya hadn’t worn the long earring he’d once never been seen without. Omi guessed that it had a symbolic, sister-related meaning Aya had never explained to the rest of them. He’d killed Ran, he’d said, and Aya was all vengeance, but now that he had gained his family’s vengeance against Takatori Reiji and Aya-chan was out of her coma, what purpose did Aya have left? And seeing the further personal cost striving for vengeance had exacted on Kaori and her brother must have made it all worse.

All traces of Ran that Aya had shown in his earlier, unguarded moment disappeared, leaving his usual chill, still mask. "I’m leaving now, Omi. You can stay or not."

Omi left with him. If Aya didn’t want him to intercede, there was nothing more for him to do here.

A few days later, Yoji said, "I was messed up just thinking about pretending to rip you guys up, but Aya was like ice. Even punched me when I refused to ‘kill’ you guys. To make it look good, he’d say. If Kritiker gave him a real mission to kill one of us, he’d probably take it." Every once in a while Yoji seemed to feel compelled to talk about it, like picking at a scab.

Omi saw Ken grimace a little. Ken really didn’t need to hear this again.

Omi said, "Aya isn’t well."

Yoji made a dismissive noise. "He’s never been well, not in all the time I’ve known him."

"No. His purpose is gone, and he can’t contact his sister."

"What’s wrong with his sister?" Ken asked, and Yoji sat up on the couch suddenly.

"She’s fine. He just--"

Yoji laughed. "He won’t speak to her. He loves her more than anything in the world, but he won’t talk to her."

"He feels tainted by our work."

Ken and Yoji both looked sad and thoughtful. They all had those moments when they thought about the vocation that had chosen them and felt dirtied. Yoji said, "I thought he liked it."

"He does and he doesn’t. He’s thinking of what she’ll think."

Yoji shook his head. "He is such a freak."

"He needs--"

"I know what he needs," Yoji answered with an unmistakable gesture.

Ken coughed. "Are you volunteering?"

"I’m willing to fuck him to loosen him up for the good of the world, yeah. Besides, he’s pretty."

"I haven’t noticed."

Yoji snorted in answer.

This wasn’t exactly where Omi had wanted the conversation to go, but if it cheered Ken up, there was no harm. Even if he didn’t particularly want these mental images in his head.

"The red hair and orchid-colored eyes shouldn’t work together," Yoji said. "He should look... tacky."

"He does when he wears the orange sweater."

"Ha! You do notice him!"

"No. That sweater is just a hideous eyesore."

Smirking, Yoji pushed his shades further up his nose with one finger, then lit up another cigarette. "Sure, sure, Ken. So, Omi, you’re worried about Aya because he got his vengeance and he doesn’t really have to protect his sister anymore, so he has no idea what the fuck to do with himself now?"

"Yes," Omi answered, a little surprised.

"We can do something about that."

Yoji with a plan could be bad news.

"Yoji, you are not going to do something to his sister!"

"‘To’? What did you think I was going to do? Nah, I figure I gotta get those two crazy kids to talk. Then--"

"There’s a ‘then’?"

"You thought I would stop with just getting him back in contact with his sister? I’m much more ambitious than that, and there’s so much room for improvement. We can build a better Aya."

Worse and worse. "He’s going to know I talked to you for sure, and then he’ll never confide in me ever again."

"Relax. He’ll never know you squealed. I’ll happen upon him...."

"What, you’ll be subtle?" Ken asked with a smirk.

"Oh, fuck you."

"Building a better Aya sounds like work. You sure you’ll be up to it?"

"Fuck you very much, Ken."

But Aya didn’t go off to see his sister that day or the next, pissing Yoji off no end. As they flew down a staircase in pursuit of the night’s prey, Yoji watched Aya’s white coat billow out as they moved. The dark one had been so much more practical; the new one made him a big, glowing, ghostly target. Yoji had noted the missing earring too. It all suggested that Aya’s freakishness was mutating into some new variety of freakishness.

In the space of a few seconds, Aya walloped one guard with his scabbard, while cutting down another with his katana. Whatever else was going on in that pretty head, he still fought and killed like a demon. Blood splashed down the coat, red on white, like fake blood on snow. Like Yoji pretending to bleed out, dead, while lying facedown....

Fuck, did he need a distraction. Aya better go pining after his sister again soon.

It took another two days. Aya really had a gift for working his last nerve.... Anyway, working to elude Aya’s notice while following him was fun, and not as difficult as it should have been. Guy had a thing about his sister that blocked out the whole rest of the world. Nothing new for him.

Yoji had a big grin on his face and a cigarette dangling jauntily from his lips as he stepped up to stand next to Aya in front of the café. The sister was sitting alone inside. She blazed with life, so much so that Yoji wouldn’t have recognized her. Besides, she didn’t look anything like her brother, never had.

"She’s cute," Yoji said, somewhat surprised since she’d looked almost... lumpy while in her coma. Kind of corpse-like, and he didn’t cruise corpses. And all the people who said that Aya was cold should have been on the receiving end of that sudden glare. Yoji felt blackened at the edges standing in its path. "But too young for me. And she’s your sister."

"Good. And I would hope that she has the good judgment to recognize you for the scoundrel you are and stay well clear," Aya answered, his eyes narrowed.

Yoji grinned. "Scoundrel, huh? I like that."

"I am going to kill Omi."

"Hey, don’t blame the kid. Do you know that you lose all ability to notice someone tailing you when you’re thinking about her?"

"My sister is not a... tourist attraction."

"Talk to her."

"No."

"Why not?"

Aya crossed his arms. "If Omi feels like talking so much, he can tell you."

Aya really was only 20 years old. Yoji forgot that about him sometimes. Right now, seeing the usual Aya obstinacy expressed in a way that made it look more brat-like, it was obvious.

Aya’s sister looked up and out the window, and Yoji couldn’t resist. Just couldn’t. He waved at her. She really was cute in a wide-eyed, pixie way. Her eyes lighting with recognition on seeing the familiar back of her brother’s head, she stood up and started to move. That distinctive hair made Aya so obvious. Maybe it really didn’t matter what color coat he wore.

"What are you--" Aya turned around fast.

"Ran!" she shouted as she ran outside and flung herself at her brother. Fortunately, he caught her.

"Ran"? Oh right. Yoji remembered Aya telling Sakura once that "Ran" was his real name.

"You came to see me after all!" she said, a bit breathlessly. "I know how shy you can be, but I’m your sister, and Sakura explained a lot."

"That’s part of what I was afraid of," Aya murmured into the top of her head. He looked softer... younger. Un-Aya-like. Ran-like?

"Nice shirt."

"It’s a... work shirt."

It was. For whatever reason, Aya had worn his blue mission shirt, the one with the straps at the neck and the cutout. He had to have some idea of what he looked like....

"You’re going to catch something if you don’t button up your coat."

Aya smiled a little, looking rueful, and obeyed her.

She turned to look at Yoji. "Oh, hi. I don’t know who you are. You’re a friend of Ran’s?"

"No," Aya muttered.

"I am. I’m Kudou Yoji. Sakura probably mentioned me."

"I’m afraid not."

Yoji saw a twist of amusement on Aya’s lips. "I work with Ran," Yoji said sweetly.

"Oh." Her tone made it clear that she knew what kind of work he meant.

"Your brother is an excellent florist. With a special talent for pruning."

"Yoji-kun, I’d like to catch up with Aya alone for a bit," Aya said. His sweetness approached strychnine levels. "That is what you wanted, isn’t it?"

Translation: Get the fuck out of here, asshole, and let me try to clean this up. Well, why not? His current mission had been successfully completed. No one expected Yoji to mend Aya’s relationship with his sister and get the stick out of his pale, scrawny ass all in one day.

"Sure. It was nice seeing you, Aya. Good-bye, Aya." Not that he would go far. Unfortunately, he’d have to settle for only watching them from a distance, since he didn’t have any bugs to let him listen in.

Only her grip on his hand as she led him inside kept him tethered. Her hands felt so different now, so vibrant. Memories of placing an earring in her resistant hand and folding her fingers over it flooded him. That earring had been lost sometime during one of the times she’d been kidnapped.

One of the times. She deserved better care. Yet he must not have done too badly, since she was back and happy to see him.

She sat him down at her table and smiled at him, dazzling. Not so long ago, he’d never thought he’d see her smile again. He retained enough presence of mind to move his seat so his back would be against the wall and he could watch the door.

If she hadn’t had his hand in hers, he might have done something stupid like reach out to neaten her black hair in its braids. He’d done that in the hospital if he felt that the orderlies weren’t taking good enough care with it. But of course her hair looked a bit sloppy now that she moved and lived. There hadn’t been much excuse for it while she’d been lying motionless in a bed.

He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he reached into his pocket and took out the other earring, the one he’d worn for two years as a goad to himself. "Here," he said as he put it down on the table.

She picked it up but kept her other hand on his. "I remember holding one.... You bought them for me after all!"

"It was your sixteenth birthday."

"And I begged you for them." She smiled a little. "I had no shame. We lost the other one, didn’t we?"

"It’s been... a crazy time."

"Yeah." She looked down, then up. "Why did you wait so long to come see me? You told Sakura you’d come back to explain everything, but three minutes to let her know you’re alive before she had to run to school doesn’t count."

"We were all injured. Then time passed, and the time passing became another excuse not to go. I’m not proud of that. Besides, she might not be safe if I told her more. And... I worried that confessing everything to her might give her the wrong impression and lead her on."

"You haven’t changed at all."

If she only knew how wrong she was. "That’s not true."

"I know about your job. Sakura told me, though I suspect that she’s a bit more starry-eyed about it than she should be."

He smiled a little now that she’d brought it out. The dread of waiting for it to come was now over. "We’re not as heroic as she thinks we are, but we try to be."

"I don’t care. You’re my brother. You took care of me, when most people would have given up. Your... pruning paid the bills for my care."

"There were other ways. I could have taken another job."

"How many would you have had? Three?"

He had a cup of tea in front of him. When had that happened? How had someone come that close without him noticing? Its heat radiated into his fingers. "I make no excuses for myself."

"Sakura told me that you wore this earring and used my name and told her that you didn’t deserve to be loved. In the past few years, while you were taking care of me, was anyone taking care of you?"

"I wouldn’t let anyone, even if they’d wanted to." It hurt to be this happy and this full of grief. It hurt to feel like this. Before, he’d known where he stood. He was used to waiting for something he was sure would never happen. Having it... having it never worked out as well as he’d hoped it would. "I’m good at my job...."

She’d liked his shirt. He wore his mission shirts when he went to watch her to remind himself of what he was and that he could never be a part of her life again. But she liked the shirt.

She was beautiful and full of light. He was dead on the inside.

She stood up, crossed to his chair, and pulled him into a tight hug. His body kept trying to tremble, but he fought it. He would not cry either.

"I love you," she murmured against his cheek. "No matter what you do. I know your life is dangerous, but I want to see you. I need to see you. The last thing I remember seeing before waking up again is you pinned under the wreckage of our home. Otherwise I just have vague impressions of you sitting next to me while I was in the coma. Sometimes I worry that you’re not alive and Sakura is just humoring me to try to make up for the years I lost."

He couldn’t bear the thought of causing her pain and confusion. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll be a part of your life. I swear. You won’t always know when I’m there, but...."

"It’s okay if you stalk me, Ran. Just come in and see me once in a while, okay?"

Yoji had come back so jazzed that Omi couldn’t stop smirking at him. Later Yoji asked, "Is he ever gonna get back?"

"A good, long talk with his sister would be a good thing," Ken said, smiling. "That was your objective, right?"

"Yeah, but I want to know how it went."

"You could have stayed."

"I couldn’t hear anything! I left when the really serious hugging started."

"You have a sweet streak you won’t admit to."

"I gave them privacy because nobody should see Aya with tears in his eyes. It’s just wrong."

When Aya walked in, he had his usual impassive expression on. Yoji jumped up. "How did it go?"

As Aya hung up his coat, he said, "It went well at first. Then we started to talk about my profession...."

"Yes? Yes?"

"That went less well. She doesn’t want a murderer for a brother."

Yoji’s jaw just about dropped. "No."

Aya sounded cool and offhand, but Omi could tell that it wasn’t the usual cool and offhand. Something was bubbling under it. "I’m afraid so. She doesn’t want to see me again. I can’t blame her."

"It can’t have--"

"Aya," Omi said, "you’re lying."

Aya started to smile. No show of teeth, but it was a definite smile.

"You bastard," Yoji said. "I can’t believe that I like you better without a sense of humor."

Aya shrugged gracefully, then left the room.

"It’s your fault he’s like this now," Ken said.

"Not even a thank you for forcing him to talk to his sister," Yoji muttered.

Aya came back. "Thank you, Yoji." Then he left again.

"He just gets freakier." But Yoji had a fond smile on his face.

Omi followed Aya into the near darkness of their mission room. When Aya sat down on the couch, most of his grace left him. His limbs gave this odd impression of having been badly attached to his body. "What do you want, Omi?" he asked.

"That was a new mask out there."

Aya sat silently for a few minutes, and Omi waited. Aya finally said, "I never expected to survive my vengeance."

"I know."

"After the first year, I stopped expecting her to wake up."

"I know."

"You know a lot of things."

"It’s my job." Omi sat down next to him.

Aya stared ahead into the dimness instead of looking at Omi. "I want to be able to give her Ran, but I don’t know if I can. Omi, I have wondered how you live so easily with being two people: the student who is a regular teenager and the assassin, Tsukiyono Omi and Bombay."

Even aside from being joint team leaders, Omi felt like he and Aya had a different relationship with one another than either had with Ken and Yoji. With Ken and Yoji, what you saw was mostly what you got, while Omi and Aya held parts of themselves in reserve.

"How about being Tsukiyono Omi and Takatori Mamoru?" Omi asked. Not so long ago, Omi had found out that he was the lost son of Takatori Reiji, the man Aya hated most in all the world. Aya hadn’t reacted well at first but later supported Omi.

It surprised Omi that he’d never suspected the extent of Aya’s dissociative tendencies. This was the team member who’d helped him out of his confusion about being Takatori Reiji’s son by saying that Omi was Tsukiyono Omi, not Takatori Mamoru. Aya apparently believed in the descriptive and limiting power of names.

Aya winced. "You repudiated the Takatoris and all of their evil. You made a choice, and you chose to be Omi. You chose us."

So, names didn’t always limit in Aya’s worldview. They defined, and since you could choose your name, names gave the ability of self-definition. They gave you power.

"I’m not separate people, Aya-kun. I was Mamoru as a child, and I am Omi and Bombay now. They’re all me, layers of me. Sometimes those layers mingle. Aren’t Aya and Abyssinian the same person?"

"They always have been. Aya has always been an assassin. It was redundant giving me an assassin codename. But right now... I feel these pieces of Ran inside me, and they don’t fit anymore. Seeing her just made me feel like I’m missing something, like there’s something I need that I don’t have."

Being "cute, little Omi" had made it hard for Omi to get respect, with his smarts and hard work often being dismissed and smiled over as cute too. How precocious little Omi was, wasn’t that sweet.... Never mind that he’d been training to be an assassin and hacker since childhood. Aya was only three years older than he was, yet no one ever questioned whether Aya had earned adult status. Yet being thought of as a kid had a few advantages, which Omi used as compensation. What he was about to do might seem like a presumptuous or insulting gesture from an adult. But coming from a kid.... Aya respected him for his skills and intelligence more than most people did--they worked as joint team leaders, after all--but even he sometimes let Omi’s looks affect how he treated him. This might work.

Omi pounced on Aya and hugged him. Aya struggled but Omi used every trick he knew to keep him pinned and held, and Aya really didn’t put everything into fighting him off. It made Omi smile.

"I don’t want this," Aya murmured into Omi’s shoulder as he squirmed in a thousand small ways, just like a cat that didn’t want to be picked up.

"You don’t want to want this," Omi answered, holding a little tighter.

Aya felt thinner than Omi had expected but very strong. He smelled like tea and awkwardly moved his arms and hands like he didn’t know what to do with them or where to put them. Finally he relaxed, hugged too, and placed his hands on Omi’s back. Omi placed his hand at the back of Aya’s head, lightly stroking the soft hair.

This was nice. Omi had to admit that his motives weren’t entirely selfless, since after recent events he needed a hug. And Aya had been giving off "I need a hug" vibes for as long as Omi had known him.

"Well, isn’t this cozy," Yoji said from the doorway, light streaming in from behind him. "How about some sugar for the guy who did the work?"

Yoji had been happy to see Aya show some glimmer of happiness. That warm feeling of a job well done had lasted for a few minutes until Yoji realized that Aya never made anything that simple, so Yoji went looking for him. And found this. As disturbing as it had been to see Aya near tears, finding him all but melted into Omi’s embrace turned everything upside-down and brought out Yoji’s inner smart-ass. Not that it took much to bring out his inner smart-ass, since he kept it so close to the surface.

He could somehow feel the affection in them and wanted some.

Besides, they made a pretty picture as they hugged, with the light coming in from behind him splashing their blue-black shadowy selves with strips of golden light. Aya’s hair was a cold red, but now it had sparks of warmer shades in it.

Aya opened his eyes and... smiled. "Why not?"

Why not? Well, hell, if Aya was game, why not indeed? Yoji entered the dim room and closed the door behind him. His eyes quickly adjusted.

Omi raised an eyebrow but let go of Aya and scooted back on the couch. As Yoji approached, Aya sprawled provocatively and looked up at him with challenge in his eyes and the twist of his mouth. He should talk to his sister every day. Yoji sat down and turned to face him.

Yoji sighed. "Omi, could you move your toes so they’re not poking me in the ass?"

Omi shook his shaggy dark blond head, working his cute kid looks full throttle. "If your pants weren’t so thin and tight, my toes wouldn’t bother you so much."

"Omi."

"I was here first."

"You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Yoji," Aya said.

Yoji could see that heated flicker in Aya’s eyes chilling. He had to move now, make a connection while Aya was still open, so he grabbed him and pulled him close. Into his lap just about. Aya took a deep breath and held Yoji in return. They were nearly the same height, both tall, so they both had to carefully arrange their long limbs to make themselves comfortable. It was just an awkward hug, nothing exciting.

But then Aya leaned into him a little more and rubbed the side of his head against Yoji’s as if searching for something. Nobody ever accused Yoji of being the type to play it safe, so he moved to let their mouths meet, prepared to defend his life if he had to. But Aya just breathed a little heavier and kissed him. What the kiss lacked in skill it made up for in hunger. Shocked, flooded by lust at the thought of who this was, Yoji drank it in. One of Aya’s hands went to the small of Yoji’s back, which had been left bare by his shirt, and stroked, while the other went to the nape of Yoji’s neck. When Yoji teased Aya’s lips open with his tongue, Aya pulled on his ponytail in a way that made Yoji’s hips surge forward, then made a low sound in his throat that sounded like a laugh and a whimper all at once.

Who knew Aya had it in him? If he’d even guessed, Yoji would have jumped him ages ago. It brought to mind some quote he’d heard once, something about how the perfect woman was a lady in public and a whore in the bedroom.

He wanted to send Aya-chan a thank you card.

Yoji had never made out with someone as strong as he was before, and he tried to direct Aya’s surges forward by grabbing hold of his hair. Although it had been getting longer lately, it was still spiky and several different lengths of short, medium, and long, especially the parts around Aya’s face. Soft, it slid through his fingers... making it a crappy thing to try to get a grip on.

Aya pushed him backwards and went down with him. What he landed on didn’t feel like the couch. Yoji looked up into Omi’s wide and surprised eyes. They’d landed on his lap. Kinky. "Uhmmm," Omi said.

A chill buckle from one of the loose straps at the neck of Aya’s shirt brushed Yoji’s chin and reminded him of all the territory he hadn’t reached yet. He pulled Aya closer again and kissed the pale skin of his neck, sucking, trying to leave marks. After all, Aya was hard and straddling him and he’d already sucked on Aya’s tongue, so consent didn’t seem to be a problem. There might be a backlash afterwards, but being able to see his marks red against Aya’s skin or know that they were there under a high-necked shirt would make things feel a bit better.

"Yoji," Aya gasped and pushed against his chest. "No." It sounded and felt like "Enough," which was annoying but still better than "Get the fuck away from me, asshole."

Yoji pulled his mouth away from Aya’s neck but kept stroking his back. "What?"

He had color in his cheeks for the first time ever, and his lips didn’t look thin anymore. "Not in public."

"Public? A single Omi isn’t ‘public.’"

"Having sex on top of Omi wasn’t part of any plan I’ve ever made."

"So? He’s hard, and he has to learn this stuff somewhere. Better here than on the Internet. I don’t think it’s a problem."

"Yoji!" Omi yelled while he turned a deeper red.

"Besides, it’s not fair," Aya said. "Ken’s alone out there."

This was why Yoji tried to avoid sex with crazy people. Not that his success record was very good on that.

"You think Ken could follow this? It would be cruel to him to make him try." Yoji wiggled a little under Aya just as a reminder of the pleasures that could be his if he’d just loosen up and go back to being some sexy beast again.

Then again, Omi was only 17, and it would be gauche to fuck Aya on top of him. Hot but gauche. He’d feel bad about it afterwards.

"What would be cruel to me? Whoa."

Aya put his head down on Yoji’s shoulder and shook. Yoji patted his head and said, "Hey, Kenken. Great timing." Times like these, he really needed a camera. He knew his memory wouldn’t do the look on Ken’s face justice.

This had to be something new, because Ken was pretty sure he’d have found out about it by now if it had been going on for a while. Despite acting out what could have been a scenario from a video called "Weiß Boys Gone Wild," they hadn’t even locked the door.

But Ken was still surprised that he hadn’t gone blind from seeing this. Aya was straddling Yoji, although right now he had his face buried in Yoji’s neck and a posture that suggested a return of sanity/shame. Aya was. Most of Yoji’s hair had been pulled from its short ponytail, while his shades were askew on his face. Aya’s clothing had been tugged loose in places, but Yoji’s was too tight to move. Omi’s face looked so red and hot that it should have been possible to fry an egg on it. He was under them....

It was a ludicrous scene, but it also left Ken feeling bereft, left out. Not that he wanted to be in a Weiß sandwich, but....

The whole thing with Akira and the fake mission had screwed him up badly, hitting all his worst fears about friendship, abandonment, his current profession, and his future. At times, parts of him hadn’t been certain that Aya and Yoji hadn’t turned on him and Omi.

He wasn’t himself right now, so he had some excuse to get upset over nothing. And it was nothing, since Aya had obviously put a stop to whatever had been going on.

"We were just hugging Aya," Omi said. "Really."

"Yep," Yoji agreed.

Aya looked up at Ken with a lost, uncertain expression. Aya wasn’t himself either right now, not with this whole business with his sister.

"If everybody’s hugging Aya, I should hug Aya too," Ken said. "We’re a team, after all. But tongues aren’t going to be involved in mine." If Aya put a move on him, he’d just have to defend his virtue.

"Takes all the fun out of it, then," Yoji said. He looked so casual, but he probably got caught in situations like this a lot.

Aya stood up, just barely evading Yoji’s hand trying to slap his ass, and hugged Ken. To Ken’s surprise, it felt a lot like the hugs his old team used to give after a good game, vigorous and congratulatory, a grip with some lively pats. To Ken’s shock, Aya said, "Good game, Ken," with no condescension or mockery. He must have seen Ken do it with the kids he coached or something. Aya followed it up with a worried "did I do it right?" look.

It was exactly what he needed. Ken hugged back. He’d come in close like this to "kill" Aya last week, but this time he put affection into his touch.

"So can we have an orgy now?" Yoji asked.

"No!" Ken and Omi said. Aya just shook his head wearily. Ken said, "Aya’s tired. He should get some sleep."

"A bit early for bed. I know he’s been using unfamiliar muscles with all the smiling and hugging, but still."

"Fuck off, Yoji," Aya said.

"I’ve expanded Aya’s vocabulary. This must be what it feels like to be a proud papa."

"I’m not tired," Aya told Ken.

Ken felt Aya sagging a bit. Maybe fatigue had made Aya put a stop to the attempted sex. Then again, considering Aya’s usual stubbornness and his refusal to admit to the fatigue, probably not. Maybe it had only just started to hit him now. Ken couldn’t imagine how the sex had started either.

"Why don’t you just sit down, Aya?" Ken said and smiled at the sour "I know what you’re up to" look Aya gave him as an answer.

"You sit too, Ken-kun," Omi said.

Ken let go of Aya and sat down, making a big show of how comfortable he was on the couch. Aya sat down between him and Omi and slouched a bit, a sure sign. Two minutes later he had his head back and eyes closed. He looked almost cute like that.

"I’ll be damned," Yoji said. "I didn’t see it. There’s a useful talent, Ken. How’d you do it?"

"I work with kids. I saw the signs."

"I just went to a wrong place. How about you, Omi?"

"I’ve been in a wrong place for the last 15 minutes, thanks," Omi answered. "Hey, Ken...."

Understanding Omi’s hand gestures toward Aya, Ken untied the sweatshirt he had tied around his waist and tossed it over so Omi could make a pillow of it. Aya mumbled and jerked as Omi guided his head down toward his pillowed shoulder, but Omi’s soft, soothing words put him back under. Ken pulled Aya’s legs up onto the couch to make him more comfortable. It was just like taking care of a kid, and he’d die before he’d ever say that to Aya. Hell, he’d die if he said that to Aya.

Yoji watched all of this in silence, then said, "You wouldn’t believe how horny I am."

"Yeah, we would," Ken answered.

"Yep," Omi said.

They were a team, friends, and Ken had contributions to make. That didn’t bring Akira back to life or change Ken’s belief that if he and Omi had stayed with Akira and Kaori Akira might still be alive, but it made things a bit better. He could do something with that feeling, that knowledge. The other things he couldn’t change.

He didn’t know where he was when he woke up but refused to panic. Smelled familiar.... Mission room. Trailer. Omi? His head was in Omi’s lap on top of some fabric that smelled like it belonged to Ken. Omi had his head back and snored softly.

Safe. They were safe, and Omi hadn’t been disgusted by his odd behavior. Considering the improvised pillow, maybe Ken hadn’t been either.

He went back to sleep.

Aya misted some lilies prior to them opening up shop for the day. He didn’t look any different than any other day. Omi said, "I know what you did yesterday with us in the mission room."

Aya gave him a slightly confused look. "What did I do?"

"You made yourself be what each of us wanted. Or what you figured we wanted you to be. That’s no healthier than what you were doing before."

"I’ve started to care what other people think of me."

"You-- You kill me. You’re a master of passive-aggression." But then Omi saw Aya’s eyes and realized that the statement hadn’t been sarcastic, just unadorned truth. "Okay, maybe not."

"I’m trying new things."

"I really hope you don’t end up in Yoji’s bed just because he thinks you’re pretty and you’re trying new things."

"He thinks I’m pretty?"

"It’s a good thing you’re smirking, because otherwise I’d be scared."

"Omi, I didn’t really have social graces before I became an assassin either."

Yoji walked up. "Oh, we always figured you were raised by wolves."

"You’re up early," Omi said.

"Clean living."

"The opposite of what you usually do," Aya said, still absorbed in watering.

"I can just hear the squeals of the waiting schoolgirls. Too bad most of them are too young for me."

"It’s a tragedy," Omi replied with full sarcasm. "And you can hear them. The sound goes right through metal."

Aya’s eyes flickered over Yoji, then he walked outside. Yoji smiled. "He just checked me out."

"Your fly’s open," Omi said sourly as he followed Aya out into the usual crowd of young female admirers.

Yoji’s eyes dropped down quickly, then he yelled, "No, it’s not! Hey, what crawled up your ass?"

Ken, already outside starting business, said, "That wasn’t like you, Omi. Funny though."

"Just... Yoji."

"If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a thing for Aya." Then Ken really looked at Omi. "Uh, you don’t, do you? Not that there’s anything wrong with that...."

"I-- I had two people wiggling on top of me. You’d react too if they were in your lap."

"All right, peace. So what’s the problem?"

"I was making plans, plans that would be safe for everybody. Aya’s... fragile where his sister is concerned. Then Yoji just walks in and does things without thinking anything through, and everything stumbles into place anyway. At least so far. But I’m worried that somebody’s going to get hurt."

"What? Aya? They know each other, Omi. Aya knows that Yoji runs around, and Yoji knows that Aya’s weird and armed. Yoji’s going to be careful."

"Aya’s predictable."

"Yeah, if you know where’s he’s coming from inside his own head. Does anybody have any idea what he’s like in a relationship? Does anyone know if he ever had a relationship?"

Omi smiled. "Are you trying to make me pity Yoji?"

Ken smiled back. "I just want you to know that it might not be so bad."

"Except for one thing. This is Aya and Yoji we’re talking about. If anything can go wrong, it will."

"We have work to do, Ken, and you should be heading off to school, Omi," Aya said from a distance as he handed flowers to a member of the schoolgirl horde. Just like any other day.

"Fragile, huh?" Ken asked.

"Wait for it," Omi answered.

He stared at the phone. Really, it was just a phone, but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out and pick it up. He’d run straight into direct gunfire many times in the past, so why did calling his sister terrify him so badly? Maybe it was too soon--they’d spoken just yesterday--but he knew that the longer he waited the worse it would get and the easier it would become to talk himself out of it.

He picked up the receiver and punched in the number for Kitten in the House. He wouldn’t bother Aya at school, and he didn’t want to go to Sakura’s home to talk to her, so he had to get her at work. Besides, he wondered how Momoe-san was now that Weiß no longer lived and worked there.

"Welcome to Kitten in the House. How may we help you today? We offer many beautiful plants and arrangements," Momoe-san said.

He took a deep breath. "This is Aya. Can I talk to Aya?"

"Why yes. She’ll be happy to hear from you at last. I’m putting the phone down to get her."

What a relief that Momoe-san was a woman of few words. Waiting was torture enough already.

"Ran! I’m so happy to hear from you! Momoe said that ‘Aya’ called for me. You’re still using my name?"

"The others don’t know me by any other name, so I might as well." He relaxed against the wall. She sounded happy to hear from him.

"Or maybe you just like my name better."

"Yes, you’ve found me out. I’ve always wanted to be called by a girl’s name instead."

"You’re faster with the comebacks now. That’s great! So, what’s up?"

Here it came. "I wanted... I wanted to ask if you’d like to see me again."

"Of course I do! You’re so stupid, Ran!"

He smiled. "Thank you. Now can you please remind me why I wanted to see you again?"

"Before yesterday, I hadn’t seen you in forever, so of course I want to see you now. But I’m working, and then I have to go home-- Oh, wait! I have a half-hour break in two hours. Can you come by then?"

"Yes."

"Great! Momoe-san wants to see you too, because she says she misses her boys. See ya. Don’t chicken out on me!"

"I wouldn’t dream of it."

Aya just about dragged him into Kitten in the House and through the shop into the back. She squeaked, then hugged him and sat him down at the table. "I’m so glad you called!" Holding his hand, she said, "Your hands feel really different."

Swordwork had made some changes to them over the years. "I’m afraid that my food service calluses are fading."

"I used to embarrass you so badly coming in so many times. It was fun."

It was another life. "No matter how many times I told them you were my sister, they still believed that you were my girlfriend."

"No!" She laughed.

"You were better off that way. His belief that you were my girlfriend was the only thing stopping Hirono from making a move on you."

"I can assume that I wouldn’t like him."

"He was a 25-year-old dishwasher with bad skin and a weird smell."

"Ew! You know, Ran, you should get a girlfriend."

"You sound like our mother." He could joke about that now without it hurting so much. He considered that progress.

"That’s scary. Okay, you should get a boyfriend too. How’s that?"

He choked. "That’s different. Momoe-san seemed happy to see me." The tiny old woman had inclined her gray head at them in happy greeting as Aya had hustled him inside. He wondered if she were a Kritiker agent as well, one who might have been an assassin in the past.

"Nice attempt at changing the subject. Yeah, she calls you guys her kittens."

"You’re a kitten of hers too now that you work here."

"Yeah, but I don’t have a cat assassin codename too. What’s yours, anyway?"

"Abyssinian."

She snorted. "So lame."

"I’ll let Kritiker know you said so." Not that he had to. He knew that Kritiker already kept an eye on her at times through Manx, Birman, and maybe even Momoe-san.

"Your name kind of works, but," she reached out and ruffled his hair, "you would have been better off with something fluffy. ‘Chinchilla’ maybe."

"I don’t wear eyeliner."

"Maybe you should."

"You’re really trying to piss me off."

"Not yet, not really. Now I am." She stood, leapt over, and started to tickle him. "Ha! You’re still ticklish in the same places!"

"I hate you!" he yelled between helpless laughs.

"No, you don’t!"

He could kill her easily, but he wouldn’t and she knew it. In his worry that he might hurt her, he didn’t even fight back. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t try to avoid her hands, but he toppled off the chair onto the floor trying.

"Ran! I’m sorry--"

He grabbed her and tickled back. "No fair!" she shrieked.

Eventually they couldn’t breathe, and maybe her chest started to hurt as much as his did, because they stopped the tickle fight at about the same time. She sat on the floor cross-legged, and he settled his head on her leg and curled up on the floor. As she stroked his hair, he knew true contentment. This was what he’d been missing, touch and laughter. He’d always been inclined to be too serious, and she’d teased him out of it.

Aya giggled. "Kitten."

"So you want an exotic pet instead of a brother?"

She had a light touch. At the moment, she finger-combed the hair near his pierced ear. "Can’t I have both? I think you’re a two-for-one deal. You like this?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"None of your friends do this for you?"

"Men don’t tend to pet each other’s hair unless they’re involved in a more intimate relationship." Last night had been a fluke.

"Then you have to make one of them your boyfriend."

"Aya!"

"I want you to have somebody, Ran. It’d be nice for Sakura if she could be the one, but I can see all the reasons why that’s not going to happen." She sighed. "Most of them involving me."

"And she’s too young."

"And she’s too young."

"I’m a lot of trouble."

"You always were."

He smacked her knee.

Momoe-san opened the door. "Aya-chan, I need your help please."

"Yes, Momoe. I’ll be right out." Aya looked at her watch. "She gave us 45 minutes instead of 30. That was sweet."

He didn’t want to go. "Do you think she would mind me helping you?"

"You want to stay a while? That’s great! We could be double-barreled florists."

"Not quite, but thanks for playing."

When he walked out with and put an apron on, some of the patrons recognized him instantly. "Aya! And... Aya."

"She’s my sister," he said. "Our parents were a bit strange. They really liked the name." It didn’t hurt to think of them anymore. They were at peace now that their murderer was dead. He hoped. Yes, they had to be, and he was at peace thinking that.

He didn’t mind it when the squealing girls brought more squealing girls in to see him as long as they ordered something. Besides, they told him they’d missed him and seemed more respectful of him today, their smiles warm instead of manic and hungry.

As usual, he focused on the work. Not as usual, sometimes Aya walked over to him and whispered something that cracked him up.

It still surprised him that he enjoyed being a florist, especially when creating the flower arrangements. When he’d first been told what his day cover would be, he’d been certain that they were either joking with him or trying to humiliate him. He wondered sometimes how Ken had reacted when told what the other part of his vocation would be.

He could ask Ken about that. He really could.

Three hours passed this way. Once they finished at the flower shop, he walked Aya to within a block of the Tomoe home. Aya said, "I could tell Sakura that you’re out here.... Just kidding! Love you!" She kissed his cheek, waved, then walked away with a bit of a skip in her step.

He let himself into the trailer quietly, but everybody was already in the room anyway and noticed him. "Look at that smile," Yoji said as he put on a coat. Under the coat, he was dressed for a night out. "Must be a girl."

"It was," he answered.

Yoji’s expression changed for a moment, then became genial again. "Ah, your sister. You know, if not for me--"

"Thank you, Yoji," he answered in a preemptive strike, and why not? It cost him very little.

"Hmph. I’m becoming too predictable. Good night. Don’t wait up for me."

"Yoji," Omi said, "you hypo--"

"It’s fine," Ken said. "Can’t you see that it’s fine?"

Yoji shrugged and walked out. Lately it seemed that Yoji couldn’t do anything right for Omi’s tastes, and Aya didn’t know why.

"Isn’t it fine, Aya?" Ken asked.

Whatever "it" was. "Yes," he answered. He’d probably be better off if he admitted to them that he wasn’t always aware of their little dramas, but he couldn’t quite do it. Too proud, Aya would say. Besides, right now he felt too happy to be bothered.

"Get out!" Omi yelled over the headset.

"We know, we know," Yoji muttered back into the headset as he and Aya ran through the hallway and out the exit. The building exploded just as they reached the street, the force of it throwing them forward, but they simply used the increased momentum to get to his car faster. They jumped in and drove off.

"We’re clear," Yoji said into the headset.

"Good. Standard operating procedure from here."

"Gotcha." Whatever problem Omi had with him lately at least didn’t extend to the professional side of their dealings with one another. That was a relief.

Yoji tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, restless. He got horny after a mission sometimes, and something here was feeding it. He felt something like electricity in the car.... Yoji glanced at Aya, who stared straight ahead, just breathing. Just breathing quickly. Incredible. Aya was On too, pulsing with it, and his lust increased Yoji’s. Did it work the other way around too?

"Aya."

When Aya turned to face Yoji, his gaze was hot, his pupils dilated. He had a bruise on his cheekbone and smelled of blood and sweat. Of course he did, since his katana forced him to get in close for his kills, while Yoji’s wire let him kill from a distance if he wanted to, which he preferred. The katana also had far more splash potential than the wire did.

Yoji wanted an alley very badly, but he struggled to think. Actually, he struggled to think like Aya would, which gave him one hell of a headache.

Aya lived in a black and white world of absolutes and symbols. Starting a sexual relationship with him by fucking in an alley was begging for trouble. Especially right after a kill mission. Especially when it would be their first fucking time.

They could wait.

Aya’s hand settled on his knee and gripped. They could wait. They just couldn’t wait long.

They reached the trailer first, which made sense considering the incentive and the way Aya’s hand on his leg had made him press down on the accelerator harder. Aya jumped him as soon as he closed the door behind him, devouring him, pressing him against the wall. It was almost frightening.

"This is wrong," Aya murmured against his mouth as he kissed. That was definitely frightening. "I want.... I want...."

Aya’s lust had a berserker edge of frenzy to it. He got like that in battle sometimes, running straight into things without caring or thinking about the pain or risks, and that state had a mindlessness to it that had always bothered Yoji. He didn’t want to have sex with someone who wasn’t entirely there.

"No, Aya."

"Shut up, Yoji," Aya muttered.

And that was another problem. "No." Yoji pushed him away. To his relief, Aya respected his no and didn’t grab him again. "This isn’t going to be like that. I don’t want you starting a pattern here."

"Like what?"

"I want respect from you. I’m not just a body for you to use." From the bewildered look on Aya’s face, Yoji guessed that he was lost in the irony of hearing this from the master of the one-night stand. People just didn’t understand how Yoji loved women.... And men. "You’re going to make what I just said bite me in the ass, aren’t you?"

"I’m not going to do anything. I’m not going to do anything at all." Aya’s voice had cooled, but it wavered a bit. "I thought I knew what you wanted from me, but I was wrong. Thank you for correcting me." He turned and started to walk away.

"Aya, wait."

Aya turned to face him. "We have a decent working relationship. I don’t want to ruin it over something that will be miserable and full of misunderstandings anyway." Aya’s gloved fingers moved in what seemed to be a gesture of frustration. "I don’t know if you even like me."

"Yet you wanted sex with me anyway?" It horrified him.

"I don’t want anything."

"That’s not what you said earlier."

"I don’t want anything now." That sexual vibe he’d given off earlier had disappeared completely, turned off like a light.

What the hell did Yoji want him for? The world was full of much easier lays. Aya was pretty, sexy, graceful, and intense, but so were a lot of people. Aya was also crazy, something everyone in Weiß knew and never talked about. They felt bad for him when he wasn’t being so obnoxious that they wanted to kick his head in. His habit of angrily rebuffing friendly overtures didn’t help him. Hardheaded and hotheaded, he had only a few driving obsessions, and everyone and everything not involved in those obsessions didn’t exist for him. He could be ruthless with people and hurt them, something that was mitigated only slightly by the way that he was also ruthless with and hurt himself.

Sure, he hit a few of Yoji’s buttons. Something in him often aroused Yoji’s chivalric instincts. He was the thrill of the chase and the unattainable goal. But even Yoji hit a point when the chase stopped being worth it.

He hadn’t hit that point yet. And maybe it helped that he could see Aya trying to be more human lately.

"Everybody wants something." Yoji wanted to make Aya look less miserable. He put his arms around Aya and pulled him in close, remembering how their last hug had changed into something more. And he liked having Aya’s skinny ass pressed against his dick. "What do you want, Aya?" Yoji whispered into his ear as Aya’s hair brushed the side of his face. The scents of blood, adrenaline, sweat, and smoke on Aya’s skin made him so hungry....

Aya closed his eyes and took a breath. "I don’t want anything."

"I like you, and I can do things for you. Just tell me. All you have to do is tell me, and if I can do it, I will."

He just gulped air in for a bit, then mumbled, "Wanna be your pet."

Holy shit.

Weiß often let Aya make grand pronouncements to their prey for them, since Aya had a gift for it and no self-consciousness about it. He was tall and had a big sword, imposing voice, and billowing coat. He was an artist with words like "sin," "hell," "damnation," "death," and the like.

Aya didn’t talk as much to his teammates. Maybe it was because the damnedest things could come out of his mouth when he did?

But what did being a pet entail? Stroking? A servant/master relationship? Wearing a collar and eating and drinking out of bowls on the floor? Where Aya was concerned, it was best to have everything strictly defined and make no assumptions.

But how the hell could he ask?

Aya grabbed his wrist and started to make his hand run up and down Aya’s body, from his chest to just above his cock. Yoji guessed that he’d dithered about the pet thing too long, not that he had complaints about being corrected like this.

"Do you want me to stroke you all over?" Yoji asked to be certain and because saying it made him hot. Aya’s fingers clenched on his wrist. "Yes?" Yoji asked.

"Please," Aya sighed.

"Hey! We’re-- Oh," Omi said from behind them. Ken was probably there too.

Yoji was going to kill them both. He could. Really he could. Aya shook in his arms, which worried him until he realized that the spasms were laughter, nearly silent Aya laughter.

Yoji should have driven them to a hotel, since the trailer didn’t even have any amenities. Mission room? He could just see them naked and writhing on a couch as Persia contacted them for a new mission and got an eyeful. Main room, where they were right now, had crappy couches. The bunk area was a bunk area, and a bunk didn’t have enough room for one person, let alone two, while he wanted to lay Aya out like a banquet and feast on him. Besides, a thin privacy curtain didn’t work well enough. The bathroom was the size of a small box. He hadn’t been thinking.

Well, Aya’s hand had been on his knee.

"I should have taken us to a hotel," Yoji muttered.

"We’re bloody," Aya said.

"I know places where they don’t care. I hate this fucking trailer."

"We all do."

"Thank you." Yoji turned them around to face their teammates. He kept his hands right where they were on Aya’s body. "Hi. Your timing sucks."

"We got that impression," Ken answered as he tried not to look directly at them.

"You’re animals, you know that? Or just really lousy assassins," Omi said. He seemed to be fighting a battle between being really pissed off and really amused. "You have the lights on and most of the windows’ privacy screens rolled up."

That did seem incompetent of them, not that Yoji would admit it. "So you couldn’t see that we were doing something and go somewhere else? Aya, please stop laughing."

Aya had calmed the shaking down to a quivering at least. "Want to. Can’t...."

Yoji would be enjoying that under other circumstances. Right now, he planned. First, he handed Aya over to Omi. "Take care of him for a few minutes, would you?"

"And what does that involve?" Omi asked.

"Nothing that I would do with him. Now, I’m going to go pack some gear. Then, I’m taking us to a hotel where we’ll have a real bed and we won’t offend Ken’s tender sensibilities."

"Us?"

"You wanna come along, Omi-kun?" When Omi put on a death glare, Yoji started to wonder if his recent snit might have anything to do with their earlier lap experience. "Okay, no, then."

"Yoji," Aya said, "you have--" He made a hand gesture. "I had blood in my hair, and now it’s on your face."

Yoji sighed. "Where?"

"It’s right-- Forget it." With a very serious look on his face, Aya stepped up to him, grabbed his shoulders, and licked a long, thorough stripe across his cheekbone. He stepped back, examining, then licked one part over again. "That seems to be it."

Yoji could adjust himself once he left the room, since he didn’t want Omi to see that. Chalk one up to the benefits side of sex with crazy people. "I’ll be right back." He fled, though he did have the time to notice the looks on Ken and Omi’s faces. Worth it, all worth it....

Yoji took off his gloves, then grabbed a duffel bag and threw some toys--he was an optimist--condoms, slick, and clothes, his and Aya’s, into it. Aya would probably kill him for making a mess of his closet. He’d never packed so quickly in his life.

Yet when he came back to the main room he saw that Aya had changed out of his mission coat, gloves, and shirt into a black leather jacket and a different shirt. How Aya unfastened and fastened so many straps so quickly was a mystery Yoji hoped to see solved one day soon. He’d wrapped his sheathed katana in cloth and seemed set on taking it with them, probably to clean and care for it properly at a time that better be much later, no matter how much of a samurai Aya strove to be.

Yoji quickly chucked off his own mission coat and put a different one on, then took Aya by the arm. "Let’s go."

"You didn’t ask me if I wanted to go to a hotel," Aya said softly.

For the love of-- "I didn’t know you were such an exhibitionist. We could get back into it here, but Ken would flee and Omi would probably shoot me between the eyes."

"I just want to be asked."

Yoji sighed. "Aya, would you consent to go to a hotel with me for a night of mad passion?"

"I’ll consider it.... Yes. Yes, I will." Aya smiled a little, an Aya smile. "Take me now."

"Thank you. And, Omi, if you have anything to say...."

"Yes?" Omi asked with a very amused look on his face.

"Don’t. See you around." Yoji put his arm around Aya’s shoulders and coaxed him out the door and into the car.

The ride to the hotel passed in silence, but that didn’t signify anything out of the ordinary. Aya looked placid. He may not have had his hand on Yoji’s knee, but he had the hint of a smile lingering on his lips.

The desk clerk seemed to be amused by Yoji’s desperation, but Yoji really didn’t give a damn, not since the place was neat and clean and had nice-sized beds. He could just imagine Aya’s reaction to being taken someplace sleazy or, worse, slovenly.

"Alone at last," Yoji said as he locked the door to their room behind them. Aya neatly hung up his jacket nearby. Of course he did. Yoji threw his own coat at a nearby chair just to see Aya disapprove.

"Are you sure?" Aya asked, as he sat on the bed, even bounced a little. He set his wrapped katana carefully, respectfully, down on a nearby chair. "Given our history, Ken could walk through the door at any time."

Aya removed his boots, then his socks. If Yoji hadn’t been so needy, he would have let this slow, methodical, weirdly arousing striptease go on, but right now....

Yoji approached the bed and stopped in front of Aya. "Only if you called him to say we were here. Then I’d have to kill the both of you."

"You wouldn’t kill me. You don’t seem the type to find much pleasure in using my corpse."

Yoji coughed, then gently pushed Aya down onto the bed and straddled him. "You’re weird."

Aya sprawled invitingly. "You’re very perceptive."

"You’re very weird," Yoji said as he peeled the high neck of Aya’s shirt away. His earlier lovemarks looked dark and colorful against the ice pale skin. Seeing them gave him a feeling like he’d planted a flag at the top of a previously unconquered mountain. He breathed on them and smiled as Aya writhed and gripped him.

"I’m trouble," Aya said softly, sounding almost happy.

"Definitely."

It relieved him that Aya had left the berserker frenzy behind. This time they kissed, clutched, and rocked together in a more reasonable, less rushed lust.

Aya’s next writhe revealed rust-colored smears on the bedspread. "What?" Aya asked.

"You still had some blood in your hair. Not so much now, though."

"The owners will hate us."

"It’s not so bad. The pattern disguises it a bit, just as it was meant to. It diminishes the appearance of stains."

The sudden look of disgust on Aya’s face was too funny. Yoji kept him pressed down and said, "I’ve done worse than leave bloodstains here, but they let me come back. Wanna hear about it?"

"No."

"Spoilsport." Yoji nibbled at Aya’s pierced ear and unbuttoned his shirt at the same time. He had all kinds of talents.

The scars Yoji found on Aya’s otherwise smooth skin saddened him. Aya had fewer than he should have, considering his close quarters weapon and habit of running into gunfire, but far more than he deserved. Than anyone deserved.

Aya grabbed his short ponytail and yanked a little. Teach him to start growing out his hair again. "You’re getting distracted."

Just to be annoying, Yoji said, "It’s the journey, not the destination."

"And ours has been frequently interrupted."

"Let go of the hair."

"Why? It makes a good handle."

"I have something that makes a better, much longer handle. Besides, how would you like it if I messed with your hair?" So Yoji did, running his hands through it, gripping a little once in a while, fluffing it out crazily just to be extra annoying and rubbing the blood on his hands into the bedspread once in a while. Aya just closed his eyes, relaxed completely, looked blissed out, and purred. And pulled a little harder on the base of Yoji’s ponytail when Yoji’s fingers hit what must have been a particularly good spot. That was unfair, but good to know. "Okay, then, how would you like it if I stopped messing with your hair?"

"You’re cruel, Yoji," Aya murmured. "You said you would stroke me all over, but you’re being lazy about it. I should have expected that...." At least he let go of the ponytail.

"You’re going to annoy me into making out with you, Aya? I should have expected that from you." When he put his hand on Aya’s fly to start unfastening it, Aya immediately thrust up into his touch. It made him smirk.

"It hasn’t stopped working yet."

That stopped Yoji in his work on Aya’s pants. "You’ve really had a sense of humor the whole time, haven’t you?"

"Define ‘the whole time.’"

"Since we first met you."

Aya snatched the shades off Yoji’s face and tossed them onto the nearby table. "I wouldn’t go that far."

Aya with Yoji’s hand down his pants seemed saner than Yoji had ever seen him before. He had to keep that in mind.

And why didn’t anyone ever talk about how tight Aya’s pants were? It was always "Yoji, you slut...."

Yoji pulled the tie out of his hair to make things harder on Aya, but Aya simply sneered. "Like that would stop me if I really wanted it." He sat up suddenly and grabbed Yoji to stop him from falling backward off the bed, then kissed him.

It didn’t surprise Yoji that Aya couldn’t do passive for very long. It did surprise Yoji when Aya hooked him somehow, twisted, and tossed them both onto the middle of the bed with himself on top and Yoji on the bottom.

Outraged, the only thing Yoji managed to say was "My boots are on the bedspread!"

Aya rocked a bit in his perch atop Yoji’s waist. "No one will notice the dirt amidst the bloodstains. It does lead me to think on a great injustice, however."

"What would that be?"

"I’m just about hanging out of my clothing, while you’re still fully dressed."

True. Aya’s deep blue shirt was sliding down his back and arms, highlighting creamy looking shoulders. Not enough of him hung out of the pants, however. Thankfully, he shrugged the shirt off completely, probably less out of an urge to be sexy than to free his arms.

"You took off my sunglasses." Yoji struggled a little, just enough to be interesting and make Aya shift in ways his cock liked, and ran his hands all over the newly revealed Aya parts.

"Oh, I’m sorry. You’re naked after all." As Aya leaned down a little closer, the ends of the longest hair near his face brushed Yoji’s skin in soft, maddening swipes. "Hmm."

"What?"

"Your eyes are very green, but I’m sure you’ve heard that before. I never noticed, not with your sunglasses in the way most the time."

It made Yoji smirk to hear Aya compliment his eyes, but Aya probably had no idea how beautiful and rare his own pale purple ones were. It wasn’t like Aya even used his eyes for anything other than sighting prey, creating flower arrangements, and glaring at people anyway.

"Nope, you’re the first one."

"You’re lying." Aya’s expression suggested that he thought Yoji was teasing him, and not in a good way.

Great. Aya thought Yoji had repaid his compliment with an insult. Well, Yoji had a reputation for liking a challenge, and here he was. "You’re right. I’ve heard it before, but I always like to hear it again."

Yoji pulled him in close and kissed him. Still piqued, he tried to move his mouth to the side, but Yoji followed, nuzzling, until they were kissing again. It felt good being like this, with Aya draped on top of him and breathing harshly into his mouth. It really was unfair that he hadn’t started to undress himself yet, since his pants were becoming very uncomfortable.

"You won’t get off that easily," Aya gasped.

"Believe me, I gave up on that idea a while ago."

Yoji saw what he had to do. Aya had distracted him by being unexpectedly witty, but he got it now that Aya was still Aya, so he had to start moving fast. The more time he took to talk and tease, the more time Aya had to think and filter everything through his weird mindset. Given enough opportunity to think and interpret, Aya might remember that he was the ice prince and Yoji was a scoundrel, and then there wouldn’t be any sex or petting at all, just Aya acting as aloof and edgy as a pissed off cat and Yoji dying of frustration. He couldn’t let that happen.

He had no time to get out of his own clothes, not yet. Once he melted Aya into pliability, at least sexually, then he could play. Aya’s reaction to having his hair stroked and his request to be Yoji’s pet hinted at a neglected sensual side that really needed to be explored by someone. And who better?

Yoji rolled them over to put Aya under him, then went on the attack, starting at Aya’s neck and kissing his way down. Even Aya’s nipples were pale, a faded coppery color, and he seemed to like having them sucked and nipped on. At least his thrusts up and the inarticulate sounds coming from his mouth suggested enjoyment. Despite the scars, he had wonderful skin, utterly smooth around the etchings his life left on it. It struck Yoji that enemies came in closer and touched Aya more intimately than Aya allowed his teammates to. At least until now. His skin warmed further under Yoji’s lips and hands, welcoming him, and took on a little more color.

Aya really had a beautiful, strong, and pliant body. Yoji was glad he’d decided not to take his time, at least on the first go-round.

He could feel Aya’s heart pounding. "It’s all right," he murmured. "I’m just stroking you all over, like I promised. I never said I couldn’t use my mouth too."

Aya had clenched his hands into fists. "I don’t... I don’t like this," he said, while everything else about him said that he liked it very much. Maybe too much. Control freak.

"Feels too good?"

That mixed anger into the lust, confusion, and fear on Aya’s face. He’d just been called a wimp, and he had more than enough pride to take that as a challenge.

"If you really want to quit, Aya, you can." He better not. Yoji took one of those fists, stroked across the knuckles until it opened, then sucked on the forefinger. It smelled and tasted like leather. He smiled at Aya’s drawn-in breath. "But I can make you feel so good."

"The keyword... is ‘make.’"

Poor Aya, having pleasure forced on him.

"I couldn’t do it without you." As Yoji kissed a path down Aya’s taut stomach, he made sure that his hair slid down Aya’s skin as another caress the whole time. "Let yourself go for just a little while. I won’t let anything bad happen."

Aya whimpered and thrust his hips up as Yoji tongue-fucked his navel. Yoji regretted that he hadn’t found the time to put a cockring on himself. If he got this kind of reaction now, he couldn’t wait to get to the blowjob. In fact, why should he wait? He half expected the control freak part of Aya to rise up, take control, and try to knock him out cold any second now anyway.

Aya really did have slim, narrow hips. They could even be slinky when he had his sword in hand and death on his mind. Yoji pulled the damp fabric of Aya’s plain, utilitarian underwear away to get to his prize. Parts of Aya’s brain might have been saying, "no, no, no," but his cock was all "yes," hard and hot and twitching and reeking of sex in Yoji’s fist.

This would have to be the best blowjob Aya had ever been given. Even if turned out to be the only one so far at all. If it turned out to be the first, it would have to be the one any following blowjobs had to strive to beat. Yoji had his own sense of pride.

As Aya watched in lustful and slightly horrified fascination, Yoji started to lick his balls in slow strokes, then moved to lick the head of Aya’s cock. He followed up by rubbing his lips against its underside, getting it as wet and sensitized as possible.

Aya shuddered and made low, throaty noises as his body began to rock in a familiar, rhythmic way. Close, very close.... His hands kept advancing toward Yoji’s head but quickly moved away again.

"Now you can grip my hair," Yoji said, being merciful, right before he went down on Aya’s cock until he reached the ring his fist still made at the base. He’d seen Aya gut people with his katana and had no urge to find out if his hips had that kind of force and power as well. Yoji used suction, his teeth, and his thumb along the length of Aya’s cock, but it didn’t need that much art, since Aya was gone, babbling, thrusting, and trying to pluck him bald. Utter loss of control. Yoji nearly came himself from the heady rush of power he felt from what he’d done. The ice prince was his.

Yoji sucked until the final shudders ended and Aya’s grip on his hair turned to shaky stroking, then crawled up to put his head level with Aya’s. "Well?" he asked.

Aya’s damp hair looked darker and utterly wild, and his sweat-sheened face had rosy color in it. "Can I get back to you?" he gasped. Then he really looked at Yoji. "This is supposed to be a reciprocal thing."

"Well, yeah--"

Aya moved. He had Yoji’s fly undone and cock out in what seemed like seconds. Apparently that ability to quickly unfasten his own difficult clothing extended to other people’s clothing. The sword calluses on his hand made every stroke and pull on Yoji’s cock seem deeper and more exciting. Yoji wanted to hold out to give a better account of himself, but he’d been holding back for so long and Aya’s hand felt so damned good and forceful and then there was Aya’s mouth on his, kissing and nipping.... Seeing sparks behind his closed eyes, Yoji came hard, shouting against Aya’s lips.

When Yoji opened his eyes, he saw Aya licking his hand, which was unexpected and so hot. "Warn a person, will you?" Yoji asked.

"You helped." Aya closed his eyes. "You didn’t stroke everywhere, you know."

"You could always give me a chance to get it up again, and we can see about that."

"I expected you to fuck me. I want you to stroke me on the inside too."

Yoji’s cock twitched in immediate interest. Yoji’s brain was somewhere else. "I had to fight just to touch you! Some consistency would be nice." And Aya looked tense. "We don’t have to do it. You don’t have anything to prove to me here."

"I want it." He smiled somewhat bitterly. "I just don’t relax well."

With how much work it might take to prep Aya, maybe it would be better to start that while Yoji still needed recovery time to personally get it up. Score one for optimism that he’d brought stuff that could be useful here. Getting out of his clothes and boots would be a good idea too.

He kissed Aya on the forehead and said, "I have things to get out of my bag. Don’t go anywhere."

"I won’t climb out the window while you have your back turned."

"Great. Put fears into my head."

Yoji pulled his shirt off and tossed it at the chair as he walked to his bag. As he crouched down to rummage through it, he felt Aya staring at his back. At his ass, more precisely. Life was good. He took out the condoms and slick, then decided to pull the whole bag over. Hey, he hadn’t expected that Aya would be asking to be fucked, so who knew what else might be possible later?

When he turned around, he saw Aya taking off his pants at last, long, pale limbs pulling out of the dark fabric and then out of the underwear. Amazing how Aya could make that look graceful too. And that now bare ass would be his....

Yoji dropped the bag to the floor and the goodies to the table, then sat on the edge of the bed to finally take his boots and socks off. He stood to get his pants and thong off, and at times like this he questioned the wisdom of wearing such tight clothing. It took forever to get it off, especially when he wanted to get off.

"Are we ever going to pull the bedspread down?" Aya asked behind him.

Once he had everything off, Yoji turned and said, "In a moment." He took a corner of the bedspread and ruffled Aya’s hair with it, supposedly to get the last of the blood out. Hopefully, all the alluring nakedness would distract Aya from the urge to kill him for taking this kind of liberty and for making his hair stand out in 5,000 different directions. Damn, he looked cute. "You were the one worried about the sheets...."

Aya rolled off the other side of the bed, grabbed the edges of the bedspread, and tossed it over Yoji’s head. "Thank you for being so considerate."

He knew he had to look like an ass, but it seemed a small price to pay to find out that Aya could be playful. He couldn’t wait to tell Kenken about this stuff... and send the guy fleeing from the room, no doubt protesting that it was too much information and he didn’t want to know.

"This is some way to treat the guy who’s going to be working on the areas I’m going to be working on." Yoji tried to find his way out from under the bedspread but just kept finding more bedspread.

"I’d take you more seriously if you didn’t have a bedspread over your head."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours."

Of course it was.

When Yoji tossed the bedspread off, he saw that Aya had settled under the sheets and pulled them up to about waist height, with the white linen looking only slightly paler than his skin. Yoji couldn’t tell whether the display was calculated or accidental, since no one knew whether Aya was aware of how pretty he was. Aya regarded him with a heavy-lidded, amused look but couldn’t completely disguise the tension lurking in his body. If Yoji told him again that he didn’t have to do this, he’d just get pissy, because when his body hit a limit, he usually responded by pushing it harder.

Yoji slid in under the sheets beside him. It felt cozy, and he basked in that and Aya’s warmth for a while. Funny to think of Aya giving off warmth, since that skin looked like it would give you ice burns if you touched it.

But as comfortable as Yoji felt, Aya seemed to be becoming ever more tightly wound. "Aren’t you going to do anything?" Aya finally asked.

"I am. I’m getting you used to having me here."

Aya gave him a killing look.

"I think you’re used to me," Yoji said.

"Oh yes."

That mouth looked so cold, so Yoji kissed it in an effort to change that, moving in close and stroking Aya’s back. Bare-skinned, he could actually feel Aya now, the planes and curves and bones and long, lean muscles of his body. It was too soon to get fully hard again yet, but he could feel the arousal and anticipation starting. This time he could enjoy the things he’d rushed over the first time.

As he stroked and kissed, Aya’s body started to lose its tense stiffness and flow a bit under his touch. Aya’s caresses back had no trace of hesitation and boldly explored to see what stimuli produced what reaction.

But when Yoji slid his hands down Aya’s ass, Aya stiffened. Yoji said, "If you’re going to keep freaking out, I won’t do it."

"I’m fine," Aya answered in that dull, deadpan tone that could comment on the weather or talk about how someone was pulling his fingernails out with a pair of pliers.

"If you’re tensed, it’ll hurt and you won’t enjoy it. You have to relax. Okay, you have to relax in a way that doesn’t make me hurt watching you trying to do it. Relax and get happy. Are you relaxed and happy?"

"Ecstatic," Aya snarled.

"Glad to hear it, sunshine. Trust me?"

"No."

"Smart guy. You know, getting fucked is easier the second time."

"If I survive the first time, I’ll keep that in mind."

There had to be something Yoji could do, because he could just see them being stuck here with Aya refusing to let them leave until he got fucked even while his body resolutely refused to let it happen. That could take quite a while. Yoji had hoped to die in bed, but not like that.

Suddenly, he knew what he could try. He started to run one hand through Aya’s hair again, sometimes stroking, sometimes pressing down with his fingertips on Aya’s scalp.

Even as Aya started to melt, he said, "You’re going in the wrong direction."

"None of that backtalk. I’m the expert here. I know what I’m doing."

In unguarded moments, like when he was reading, Aya would sometimes absently tug on or finger-comb the longer hair near his face. Yoji remembered occasionally catching him doing that and thinking nothing of it at the time. Aya hadn’t repressed his sensual side after all, just kept it quiet.

So while the comforting, pleasurable hair work kept Aya distracted, Yoji would sneak the scarier stuff in with his other hand. Yoji pressed his whole body close to Aya’s as a further diversion--and because he felt good--then reached over his hip and down to stroke behind his balls. Aya would probably be embarrassed by the noises he was making if he hadn’t been so lost under the two-front assault. Keeping that two-front assault going taxed Yoji’s skills, but he’d survive. The warm glow of his success helped.

Getting harder by the moment as he rubbed against Aya’s hard cock didn’t help, but he’d survive that too.

Aya probably knew 5,000 ways to kill a man but didn’t seem to have much knowledge on how to get himself off. Then again, the mental image of how Aya might jerk off--if he did jerk off--almost broke Yoji’s mood entirely. Some people you could laugh in bed with and have it be okay, even desired, but Aya wasn’t one of them. Not yet.

When he had Aya hot and bothered enough, he reached for the lubricant and slicked his fingers. Aya didn’t stiffen again, just watched him with dilated eyes, so he figured he had a success. When Yoji put one hand on his hip to hold him and used the fingers of his other to rim him in steady circles, Aya responded by pressing closer and sucking on his neck. Definitely a success. Aya smelled a bit like hot metal....

Once they started to slide wetly against each other and Aya was just about wrapped around him like a second skin, Yoji tried to slide a finger in but met up with a too tight grip of muscles and Aya making a low sound that would have been a grunt of pain if he’d allowed it to be. Dammit. How much more relaxed did Aya have to be? Aya pressed down....

"If you’re into pain, Aya, you’ll have to get that elsewhere," Yoji said. "I won’t-- I refuse to hurt you."

"This is really ticking me off." He took deep, calming breaths. "More of the lubricant, maybe?"

"Okay, but if things don’t get better soon, I’m cutting you off."

With much more slick, Yoji got farther and didn’t cause Aya as much pain. Hitting Aya’s sweet spot immediately helped. He worked it slow and steady and made some headway in opening him up, but Aya was still tight.

"That’s one finger, right?" Aya asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yep."

"I’m ready for two."

"I don’t trust you."

"You could die of waiting."

"Two it is."

And Aya was relaxing, but it was taking a very long while. Yoji had never had to work so hard for this in his life. "This is like childbirth or something," he muttered.

"Not very sexy, I’m sure." Aya took a deep breath. "This was a mistake." He shifted away, and Yoji took the hint. Stop. Pull out. Don’t touch anymore.

Yoji hurt for him, and his own professional pride was at stake. He couldn’t allow this to happen, especially not to Aya, who would probably let one bad experience, one perceived failure, turn him off sex for the rest of his life.

Yoji slid to the edge of the bed and rummaged through his bag. The Ripple was good for beginners.... "I have something you might like."

Aya raised an eyebrow as he looked it over. Curved, emerald green silicone started out narrow at the tip and slowly graduated to something wider but not too intense. Yoji especially liked the green "jewel" in the flared base and how it was actually a hatch for the battery that powered the vibration. Couldn’t beat something that was useful and decorative. He could see Aya’s curiosity getting the better of him.

"Wanna give this a shot?" Yoji asked.

Curiosity must have won, because Aya said, "All right."

Watching Aya spread his legs for him made Yoji very glad that he’d already taken the edge off one go before. His cock wanted in now. But he put the condom and slick on the Ripple instead and slid it in, smiling as it found the sweet spot and surprised a whimper out of Aya. Yoji moved back a bit to take in the view, and decided that the sparkling green jewel went well with Aya’s pale skin and auburn hair. Really, Yoji could use a camera.

"That’s not bad," Aya said.

"It’s gets better." Yoji turned on the vibration.

Aya’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. At least at first. His hands clenched on the mattress, and he writhed sensuously. "Ohhh... Yoji...."

"Still not bad?"

"Mmmmm."

"Sounds like a yes."

When Yoji climbed up Aya a little and put his hands on his hips, he could feel the vibration himself, so he could enjoy it a little too. Remembering Aya’s earlier enthusiastic reaction to getting his navel tonguefucked, Yoji went back to it and smiled as Aya moaned and bucked under him and grabbed him by the hair. He could taste himself on Aya’s skin, which only made him crazier.

"Yoji...." Aya groaned.

"Yeah?"

"Could you fuck me already?"

Since Aya couldn’t get any more relaxed under him without achieving a liquid state, Yoji gave his belly one last kiss, then turned off the Ripple and slid it out, to Aya’s wordless but loud complaints. Yoji put a condom and slick on, arranged Aya’s now very pliant body for the best angle, then pushed in slowly and carefully. He groaned at the snug but not too tight fit; his cock would have been snapped off before. Perfect, hot and perfect. He thrust in and out in a slow, sliding way at first, gradually building speed, letting Aya get used to it.

"Yessssss," Aya hissed on a long breath and started to move to match him, rocking, pushing, catching the rhythm, pulling him in deeper.

Faster. Harder. Yoji lost himself under the movement and in the welcoming clasp of Aya’s body. Aya murmuring his name.... With how long it had taken to get here, he didn’t last as long as he would have liked, but with orgasm hitting like a lightning storm of pleasure roaring through his body, he wasn’t going to complain. At least he retained the working brain cells to stroke Aya off, and the way Aya’s muscles clenched as he came wrung out the last bit of strength Yoji had in him.

Shaking, Yoji rolled them over and carefully pulled out. He even managed to get the tied-off condom into the can in one throw. He shot, he scored. Aya looked utterly debauched: flushed, sweaty, marked up, half-conscious, breathing hard, reeking of sex. He gave off heat like a small furnace. When Yoji reached out to stroke his arm, Aya immediately twitched away from his hand. Too sensitized to bear it at the moment, probably.

Yoji drifted off to sleep and woke up feeling way too sticky a few hours later. At least Aya’s refusal of post-sex cuddling had made sure they’d avoided getting stuck together. They hadn’t even turned the lights off.

Yoji washed up in the bathroom and brought back a damp washcloth for Aya, who was still out cold. What a chore, having to stroke that body clean himself, especially since Aya made soft, cute little sounds in his sleep as Yoji did it.... Sometimes he touched with his fingers too, just because he could.

Yoji felt an odd texture, like small raised lines, on a section of skin on Aya’s chest. He hadn’t noticed them before. When he looked closer, he could see that some of the lines were slightly pink, not recent but still fresher than the rest. They were too regularly placed to be battle wounds and too small and careful to be mementos of a torture session.

Aya regarded him somewhat sleepily, but the softness was fading from his eyes. He seemed to be waiting for Yoji’s reaction.

Yoji didn’t let him wait long. "You did these to yourself. Why?"

"You don’t want to know."

"I asked. I want to know."

"Yoji--"

"Aya."

Aya closed his eyes. "My first year after my parents’ death and sister’s coma was difficult." He used the dull, deadpan tone that set Yoji’s teeth on edge. "I had bills to pay, skills I needed to learn, and clients to find. My parents’ reputations had been slandered in the media, and I had no way to fight that. I dropped out of school to do what needed to be done. I was alone. Cutting myself was a focus, a way to control my pain. Many of them didn’t even leave a scar."

So there were more times that Yoji couldn’t even see. "What about the more recent ones?"

He knew he was going to want to interrupt Aya at some points on what would come next, but he told himself he shouldn’t. Once you stopped Aya, sometimes you couldn’t get him started again.

Aya almost smiled. "Killing Takatori Reiji was a disappointment. I expected... something more, but all I felt was the usual sense of accomplishment that comes from finishing a difficult, long-term mission. My parents were still dead and slandered, my sister still in her coma." He could have been talking about the weather in that flood of calm words. "Then Weiß dissolved, and we all went our separate ways. I... really had nowhere to go. I took a construction job, since my interrupted education hampered my hunt for employment and I had... emotional reasons that prevented me from working in a flower shop or a restaurant." Even through the flat tone he used, he sounded almost contemptuous of his "emotional reasons." "The job didn’t pay well, and it was the kind of mindless work that gives a person too much time to think. I realized that my life would be split between this job and caring for my sister, who would never awaken. I also realized that I was happier murdering people.

"I started to cut myself again, but not very often. I became an expert on deferring the relief of it to give myself something to look forward to.

"Omi wrote me, but I didn’t write back. What could I say, really? ‘I’m glad you’re all doing things you enjoy. Construction work is dull. My sister is still in a coma. I’m cutting myself again, but not very often.’ Actually, I stopped talking in general. I only spoke when spoken to at the job, which was seldom, and I didn’t have much to talk about with Aya anymore. I started to anticipate the day when my next cut would be my throat. There would be no note. I had nothing to say." Unable to scream, Aya had let a razor blade do it for him. It made sense, given that his chosen weapon was a blade. "The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that she would die without me.

"After all the things Takatori Reiji had done that should have broken me but didn’t, I nearly broke myself. It’s stupid.

"Then Schreient attacked us and kidnapped my sister, and we reunited. I was terrified for her and angry, but I was also relieved because I had a purpose again, I was alive again, and I wasn’t alone anymore. And isn’t that the most selfish fucking thing you’ve ever heard? So I fought returning to the team, because I didn’t deserve it and my sister had to be the most important thing to me." Aya’s voice had stayed steady, but his body was shaking.

For so long they’d thought that Aya was ice itself. "No. No, that wasn’t selfish. That was... that was you fighting to survive. Aya, don’t you ever let things go that far again. I mean it. You tell us, no matter how well you think our lives are going."

Yoji remembered that night after the Schreient attacks when they’d all returned to the flower shop, and Aya had simply stood in a corner, utterly silent, his arms wrapped around himself, staring at the floor when he didn’t have his eyes shut. They’d needed Omi to draw Aya out on what had happened. He hadn’t been able to speak on his own.

If Aya had killed himself, would Weiß even have found out about it? The news might give it some coverage if somebody found out about the sister in a coma angle, but probably not. Kritiker might have told Weiß. Maybe.

The funny thing was that they wouldn’t have needed a note; they all would have understood immediately. They would hurt over it, and Omi would nearly kill himself, but they would understand.

Omi needed to know about this.

"I’ll... keep that in mind," Aya said softly.

"But why cut here?" Yoji asked, as he splayed his hand over the scars... and felt Aya’s heart beating. "They’re over your heart." Aya and his damned symbolic gestures.

A warm flicker went through Aya’s eyes. It must have made him happy that Yoji had seen the meaning on his own. "It’s been a long time. I don’t need them anymore." He closed his eyes. "I’m tired, Yoji. All that relaxing wore me out."

If you didn’t know what you were looking for, you didn’t notice that patch of scars at all.

"I’m done. Go to sleep." Yoji turned out the light, but sleep didn’t come easily for him.

He woke up with the feeling that he’d left something undone. Lying there in the darkness, his skin still tingling, his used body aching in a good way, he tried to think. His katana. He still had to inspect its edge and clean it properly.

When he ran his hand down his body, the feel of it made him shiver. His sword wasn’t the only thing he should evaluate.

Yoji made a soft sound and rolled over, making him reach out-- No, that would be infringing. He pulled his hand back.

Sleep looked so different from coma.

Yoji was naked, really naked. He may have been facetious earlier about the sunglasses, but they really did provide a barrier, just as the cigarettes did. He’d really seen Yoji’s face for the first time.

This was... he didn’t know what this was, what they had, what they’d done. He’d needed this, whatever this was, and at least he hadn’t dragged an innocent into his life. Who better to comfort a killer than another killer?

He knew that he didn’t deserve happiness or love, but he also knew that Yoji couldn’t give him those things anyway. No one could, really. Aya didn’t give those things to him, she gave them to someone she thought was her brother.

He was confused, though. Yoji kept behaving in unpredictable ways. He kept behaving in unpredictable ways. For a little while, he hadn’t thought at all.

He felt lonely and empty. He was losing his mind and his focus.

He needed to think.

Yoji woke up alone but groggily noticed a sliver of light coming from the slightly opened bathroom door. When he wandered over and walked inside, he saw Aya sitting in his underwear on the mat on the floor, caring for his katana. Aya stroked a cloth up and down the blade in slow, thorough strokes that made Yoji hard all over again. "They say you’ll go blind if you do that too often," Yoji said. Aya flicked a glance up at him from underneath his bangs but otherwise continued to stroke his blade. "Lucky katana," Yoji said.

"I think you’d be less envious of it if I sharpened your dick."

"Sounds kinky. How would I know I didn’t like it if I never tried it? Come back to bed."

"I have to show proper respect."

"Aya. Bed. Now."

Aya’s look turned dangerous, his grip on his katana more aggressive. "If you have no respect for me, at least respect the fact that I could cut you down. You don’t command me."

As usual, Aya looked really hot when he was pissed off. Yoji’s increased lust must have shown in his face--and probably his cock--because Aya muttered, "I’ve joked that you lose all sense of self-preservation when your dick’s involved, but I’ve never--"

"Joke? You?"

"I have a wit as sharp as my blade."

"Yet you keep it sheathed all the time."

Aya’s mouth twisted. "Very clever."

"Yeah, that was pretty good, especially since I’m not all the way awake yet. C’mon, Aya, come back and show me how to take care of your blade."

"With lines like that, it’s not surprising that women don’t stay with you very long."

Yoji found it strangely reassuring that Aya could still be a pissy bastard with him. Aya wouldn’t be Aya without that. "Yet new ones get drawn in all the time."

"There are many people with no taste in this world."

"You among them, looks like."

"You didn’t use a line like that on me until after I slept with you."

Yoji smiled. "You better come back to bed before I start using more."

"Is that a threat?"

"A promise."

Aya sighed, then carefully set his katana aside and stood up in a graceful motion. "Don’t think that that threat will always work."

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

Yoji slithered under the blankets first and heard Aya rustling behind him before he got into bed. Stripping probably. Good. It must have been, because Aya was naked when Yoji turned and stroked his hands down Aya’s ass. And found the base of the Ripple. Yoji was thankful for the darkness, because the look on his face probably would have amused the hell out of Aya.

Aya hadn’t turned on the vibration, at least. The sky might have fallen if he’d thought to do that on his own.

"It was an interesting feeling, so I wanted to try it again. I watched what you did very carefully."

Because Yoji was Yoji, he asked, "You didn’t want the vibe going?"

"I was caring for my katana. That’s not a good time to be that distracted."

Fuck, he was hard, and Aya made soft little sounds as his fingers pressed on the base. "Aya, I really wanna fuck you again."

Aya shuddered. He was already hard. "I know." Aya pressed closer to him, rubbing his cock against Yoji’s, tangling their legs together, rocking. He whimpered and bit Yoji’s shoulder when Yoji pulled the Ripple out and easily slid his fingers in.

Yoji swept his arm over the table desperately looking for a condom and lubricant. There. Fumble-fingered, he put them on and then wrestled with Aya a bit, with Aya being so willing that they couldn’t get anything done. He really had great, touchable skin, sleek and taut over the lines and curves of his hard body, really inviting.... Finally, Yoji thrust in deeply and smoothly. Aya let out a sighing breath and wrapped himself around Yoji, scrabbling for leverage, his strong fingers clenching on Yoji’s arms and back.

"Fast and hard, Yoji. Give it to me." He smelled like metal and musk, sharp.

Yoji obeyed. He couldn’t do anything else.

Yoji thrust into and gripped Aya, and kissed the salt from his skin. He couldn’t hear anything above the banging of the headboard against the wall, the creak of bedsprings, their harsh breaths, and Aya’s string of broken pleasure sounds. Who could have thought they’d end up here? As Yoji came, he jerked Aya off to bring him over too.

Afterward, Aya started to roll toward the other side of the bed, but Yoji caught his wrist, not wanting him to go anywhere. If Aya really wanted to be free, one hell of a fight would follow, dangerous as they both were, but Aya simply tugged a few times, then gave up. Feeling very smug and contented, Yoji held Aya’s wrist under his pillow and went to sleep.

"Wake up."

"Mmmmph," Yoji muttered back. When he cracked open his eyes, he saw only a weird dark red, so he closed them again.

"We have work to do."

"Hmmph."

"We drove over here in your car, and I’m not enthused at the thought of walking back. I’m tempted to take your car, but then you’d never show up for work."

Yoji let go of whatever he was holding and put his pillow over his head to escape the voice.

Even through the pillow, he heard his tormentor mutter, "It’s almost a normal morning."

Yoji opened his eyes and stretched, smiling as his body twinged in ways that told him he’d had a very good night. Then he remembered that he’d spent that very good night with Aya and wondered how the morning after would go. No time like the present to find out. Though it didn’t bode well that he was alone in bed.

When he sat up, he could see movement in the dimness. As his eyes adjusted, he watched Aya, fully dressed, do some ritualistic looking exercises with his katana, moving in precise, graceful steps. Sword dancing, in a way.

Yoji lit up a cigarette and watched. He’d seen this before but only rarely, since he and Aya kept very different hours. The smoking and the exercise movements put him into a peaceful, almost meditative state.

Once Aya finished his dance and sheathed his katana, Yoji asked, "I don’t suppose you’re using the Ripple now, are you?"

Aya’s gaze flicked at him. "That would hardly follow the tradition."

"You started a new tradition with the cleaning last night, so...."

Aya shook his head, then opened the heavy drapes, letting an intense wash of bright sunlight in. Muttering, Yoji groped for his shades and put them on. Aya’s hair gleamed in the light, and Yoji would never look at it the same way again. It would be fun giving tendrils of it a tug now and then in front of other people, smug in the knowledge that no one else would have any idea what that did to Aya.

"We have jobs to get to that we’re already late for." Aya sounded matter-of-fact, but not cold.

It wasn’t the best he could have wished for, but it wasn’t bad. He’d half expected a major backlash or Aya pretending that nothing had happened at all.

Yoji had to revise that later, though, as the morning went on into afternoon. For the hundredth time that day, Aya squirmed away when Yoji tried to show some affection, like with a hand on his shoulder. On his best behavior, he hadn’t even made a try for the hair. Yoji got it that Aya didn’t believe in public or on-the-job snogging, but this behavior made him feel like he had a disease.

Finally he got fed up, though he waited until they went into the trailer to get something before he said in frustration, "Just pretend that I’m your sister when I’m touching you." Even as the words came out of his mouth, Yoji knew he was saying the worst, most inflammatory, stupid thing possible.

The punch felt like being hit by a freight train.

"You leave my sister out of whatever it is that we have, do you hear me?" Aya shouted down at him, looking mad in both the crazed and angry senses of the word. But then the hot glaze faded from his eyes, and he looked tired. Crouching down next to Yoji, he asked, "Omi, Ken, could you leave us alone?"

"Sure," Ken said, and it sounded like "Gladly." He took Omi by the arm and left the room, over Omi’s protests.

Yoji thought it might be easier to stay on the floor. "What the hell is your problem?"

Aya’s eyes looked hot, intense. "I don’t know what impression you took from our time together, but you don’t own me. Just because you think you melted or tamed or deflowered or conquered or... whatevered me doesn’t mean that I belong to you or that you have to generously end my years of deprivation. I didn’t mind my years of deprivation."

Yoji sat up fast, making himself briefly dizzy. That had been some punch. "What? Where are you getting this from?"

"It’s my fault. I never should have used the word ‘pet.’ Now you feel free to stroke me in public whenever you feel like it."

"You didn’t have any complaints last night."

"That was last night and in private. I expected it and wanted it. I don’t want to be touched all the time. You have to understand that."

"No. I like to be touched all the time."

Yoji could almost hear Aya thinking. "This is going to be a problem," Aya finally said.

"You think? When the hell do you want to be touched? How am I supposed to know? You don’t mind it when it’s--" Yoji stopped in time.

"I didn’t have her for two years. She could touch me every second every day for the next year, and it wouldn’t make up for what she missed. I used to touch her hands or her hair, and every time I wondered if this time she’d open her eyes. Even after I stopped believing it would really ever happen, part of me continued to hope. Don’t compare yourself to her. It’s different."

Put that way, Yoji sounded like a bastard. He hated that. "Explain it to me. Please."

"Why don’t you understand this? If a touch comes at me that I didn’t expect--that doesn’t come from my sister, thank you--my instincts treat it as an attack. All of your attempts to be snuggly keep distracting me."

"Oh, come on. We’re all assassins here, and the rest of us aren’t like that."

"You didn’t spend so much time on your own looking over your shoulder waiting for Takatori Reiji’s men to catch up with you, which they did, with the first time injuring and killing several people who had nothing to do with my efforts to avenge my family. That first time.... Originally I had two jobs I worked, then my vengeance as a night hobby."

Yoji hated that flat, dead, casual tone Aya used for horror stories about his past. "Oh, c’mon. Did you ever sleep?"

"Not very often. I couldn’t if I wanted to. In any case, one day a small group of killers walked into the restaurant and opened fire at the waitstaff. We scattered or ducked. I led the assassins to the kitchen--"

"Better cover and plentiful weapons."

"Yes. I killed as many as I could with the knives there and took the ones I’d used with me as I left. The next day, I quit that job. It didn’t surprise my employer, since many of us ran away that night and I’d been shot."

"Shot?"

Aya put his hand over his right forearm. "Clipped, because I hadn’t been in the right mental place. A waiter doesn’t expect small arms fire. The wound made my kills look even sloppier than my relative inexperience with the knives had. It helped suggest that an amateur had defended himself better than usual. Although the viciousness of the wounds probably made the police wonder.... I decided it would be safer for other people and possibly more lucrative for Aya if I took on a new profession using the skills I’d learned in my efforts to get to Takatori. But I was an amateur, my ultimate target too obvious. I wouldn’t have survived for long if I hadn’t found people to watch my back."

From Aya, those words were almost a love note. "Your reflexes are primed to expect people to kill you all the time."

"I wouldn’t have survived this long without that."

"But you feel safe enough to turn off your instincts when you’re with your sister. Why can’t you feel safe with me?"

"When we’re constantly on kill missions or being stalked by psychic assassins?"

"We’re not in mortal danger all the time!"

"I didn’t expect this to be a problem."

"Why not?"

Aya crossed his arms over his knees as he crouched, letting his hands dangle. "I didn’t figure it would get this far."

"You figured that I was, what, curious? Once I had you, I’d get bored, right?"

"Are you going to tell me that you never thought about it? I’m not an easy person to deal with."

"But, hey, Aya, you’re talking to me."

"Nice subject change, but I’ll let you get away with it this time."

"Mmm."

"Don’t you dare think that you taught me to talk. I have to talk to you, since you don’t even notice gestures that scream to me. I don’t want to be misunderstood. It’s not a new desire." Aya sighed. "I figured it would just be sex and then we would go back to the usual. I like you when you’re not being obnoxious. I figured you’d be good, considering all the practice you get."

Nice verbal smack to the back of the head. "Love you too, Aya." Yoji had long wondered if Aya realized how casually insulting he could sound and come to the conclusion that sometimes Aya did. Sometimes.

Right now Aya smiled a little, so....

"We’d have sex, it would be good, you’d get bored or annoyed with me, things would return to normal, and I wouldn’t have to talk about my feelings. Or talk in general." Aya put his head down, his hair hanging in his face. "That’s really not working."

Yoji put his hand out near Aya’s face. Aya considered it, then closed his eyes and moved to rest his head against it.

There were so many easier lays out there, but he had to develop an insane passion for the most infuriating man on the planet. Because he was a masochist, apparently. But Aya had his moments that made it worth it, like now, when he moved forward to make a nice lapful and kissed Yoji deeply and earnestly. It went on, with breaks for breathing and nuzzling, until one of their movements jarred Yoji’s recently punched face and he winced away.

Aya looked a little rueful. "You have a big, swelling bruise on your cheekbone."

"Bigger than yours?"

"Much."

"As long as it’s bigger. You’re trying to disfigure me. Plucking my hair, fucking up my face.... I’m going to cut my hair, you know. Really short this time."

"I was thinking of letting mine grow. I’ve had it like this for years."

More to play with if he did. "Sounds good."

"I might get an earring."

Definitely moving on with his life.

"Cool."

"I’m thinking of joining a cult--"

"You are not."

"I could." Aya rested his forehead against Yoji’s. "I’ve always been reserved and undemonstrative. Shy, even. They’re not signs of how damaged I was by what happened to my family, they’re a part of me. Short of me becoming an entirely different person, those aspects of me are not going to change, and you might as well find someone else who can give you what you need."

All those times he’d wanted to break up with someone and complained about how that someone wasn’t making it easy for him had come back to bite him on the ass, it seemed.

Yoji had figured that once Aya saw what life could be like, he’d want to change. He’d be doing Aya a favor. What could he do if Aya didn’t mind being the way he was and saw attempts to change him as contempt for him?

"Guys," Ken said from the door. "If you could stop being so sickeningly sweet and get back to work, it would be great. They’re eating us alive out there."

Aya’s body lost all pliability as he remembered his duty. Damn it. Ken needed to get his ass kicked. Some things were more important than work.

"If only," Yoji answered. "If they were willing to do that, it might be worth going back out."

Aya disentangled himself from Yoji and stood up. "We’ll be out soon."

"Thank you." Ken disappeared again.

"If he doesn’t stop interrupting us, he’ll have to go," Yoji muttered as he stood. "I know a nice ditch...."

"You wouldn’t."

Something needed to be cleared up immediately. "You know, Aya, I’m not gonna be your punching bag."

"You knew that punch was coming even as the words left your mouth." Yoji took a fast, score-settling swing at him, but Aya wasn’t there, having side-stepped it completely. "And I knew that that punch was coming," Aya said smugly from a distance away. "But I won’t hit you as long as you don’t insult my sister. Though I may get violent if I hear you telling any more people that you know from personal experience that this is my real hair color."

Damn. He hadn’t thought that Aya had been close enough to hear that. "Better not hit me again. I’ll kick your ass."

"This isn’t going to work between us, Yoji. We’re too different."

Yoji put an arm around his shoulders, and he didn’t squirm away. Progress. At least for now. "I want to try. Everything that’s worth anything takes a bit of work."

"This isn’t the best moment for me to find out that you’ve been listening to me all this time after all."

"I only use the stuff that works for me."

Aya gave him a very serious look. "I’ve given more explanations and justifications in the last few hours than I have in my entire life. I’m done talking."

When one of the schoolgirls asked him about the bruise on his face, Yoji told her that he got in a fight with a guy over a woman’s honor. It wasn’t even a lie really.

Near the end of his shift, he picked up the phone and called for his sister. He really needed to clear his head, and she helped him with that.

"Welcome to Kitten in the House. How may we help you today? We offer many beautiful plants and arrangements," Aya said.

"Aya--"

"You can come watch me or talk to me or work in the store with me. You can even stalk me if you want to, Ran. Just come see me."

He smiled. "I don’t know. I’m hearing some ambivalence here."

"Ran, you really don’t wanna face my wrath. Get your skinny... self over here right now."

"All right, all right. You’re so pushy. I’ll see you soon."

As he shrugged on his coat, he told Omi, "I’ll be back in time for the mission tonight."

"I’m glad you’re seeing her," Omi said.

"Me too."

As he drove, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Nerves. He didn’t have nerves. Not usually. When he got out of his car, he fussed with his turtleneck. Yoji had left him some new marks to add to his collection, and he didn’t feel like announcing his private life to the world.

As soon as he walked into the shop, Aya grabbed his arm and pulled him into the back room. She smiled at him in a way he found really unsettling, then said, "Ran! You got a lover! That’s great!"

She couldn’t possibly--- "What are you talking about?"

"You so obviously had sex."

"It doesn’t mean I have a lover! I could have gone to a prostitute!" He did not just say that to his 18-year-old sister. "I’m... sorry. I’ve taken up with bad company."

Aya just looked deeply amused. "Ran, you would never go to a prostitute, not when you don’t know where they’ve been."

The urge to say something unnecessary and mean about Yoji came and went.

"Thank you for admitting that you had sex too," she said.

She was evil. He’d forgotten that during her coma. "It’s not a relationship. At least not that way. We’d probably kill each other. I punched him today."

"Why?" Then her eyes turned darker. "Wait, he didn’t give you that bruise, did he? Because if he did, you had every right to knock him out."

He’d forgotten about that. "No, it wasn’t him. Occupational hazard. But why I hit him isn’t as important as the fact that I hit him. Aya-chan, we’re very different people. He’s outgoing. He loves to go to clubs and drink and dance. I’d rather read a book somewhere quiet. He’s promiscuous. All we have to bind us is our shared profession--"

"Ah-ha!"

He shot her a dirty look. "--some shared secrets, and... and...."

"Great sex? Has to be. You’re glowing, you know."

How could she be so jaded? She was only 18! "I should talk to the Tomoes--"

"You’d have to talk to the Tomoes for that. Sakura might be there."

Evil. She was evil.

"So you figure that if you push him away first you don’t have to worry about him dumping you?" Aya asked.

"That would be accurate. Thank you."

"I would hold out as long as possible if I were you. Get those benefits while they’re available."

"It was a mistake. My fault. I jumped him out of temporary insanity." That explained the first time during the hug. But the others.... "The type of temporary insanity that recurs."

He couldn’t quite say that he liked the way Yoji smelled, not with all the smoking the man did, but there was something there. He didn’t know what it was. Pheromones maybe. Or Schwarz had concocted a new, subtler plan that would rip Weiß apart by putting drugs in the water and turning him into a sex fiend that pounced on his teammates. It was possible.

No, it wasn’t.

Aya hugged him. "You’re smiling. I like to see that."

"I just had a ridiculous thought is all."

It felt so familiar and so strange to be talking to her about this. Familiar because he’d often told her his troubles over the past two years. Strange because then she hadn’t been capable of giving advice or really listening.

"Ran, this guy might hurt you later, but could you at least give him the chance to make you happy for a while first? For me, you know?"

"For you?"

She smiled up at him with an innocent look so fake that it made him sputter. "You’d do anything for me, right?"

And he’d worried about Yoji bringing Aya into their relationship. "Please stop that. And never, ever-- My brain needs a bath."

"Will you give this guy a chance if I promise to never ever make you think of sex and me in the same thought ever again?" She fluttered her lashes at him too.

"Please stop that."

"Deal?"

"Deal." He couldn’t break his word to her either; he’d have to at least try to make this work. But he loved her anyway. Even though she was evil.

"Omi! I’m glad I finally got you alone." At Omi’s raised eyebrow, Yoji continued, "Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s Weiß business."

"It’s been hard since the gutter settled into my lap but okay."

"Hard, huh? You don’t say."

"Yoji--"

As much as Yoji hated to kiss and tell, this was important. "It’s about Aya."

"Yeah? What about him? That is Weiß business, I mean."

"He told me something."

"Yeah?"

"I think you should know."

"Yoji-kun, if you don’t start talking in increments of more than one, short sentence each--"

Stalling wouldn’t make it any easier. "Aya used to cut himself as a way to deal with depression. He has a patch of self-inflicted scars on his chest." Wait. "You don’t look surprised."

Omi sighed. "I know about it."

"How can you know?"

"Persia researched all of us very thoroughly before including us in Weiß. It only makes sense, since we’re a secret team of assassins. Your original dossier even mentions what your favorite cologne is. He knew about it."

"And figured that would make Aya a better member?"

"No. Aya hadn’t done it for a while when he’d joined us, and his dossier suggested that being a member of Weiß would discourage him from taking it on again."

"So Persia took him in out of the goodness of his heart," Yoji said sarcastically.

"I’m sure Aya’s hatred for Takatori Reiji definitely helped Uncle’s decision. You know it wasn’t a coincidence that all four of us can blame the major tragedies of our lives on Takatori Reiji."

Takatori Reiji had been Omi’s dad and Persia’s brother. When Takatori Reiji had refused to pay ransom for his son, Persia had saved the kid, renamed him... and had Omi trained as an assassin to take out his own father. Persia had turned his own nephew into a murderer. Omi’s repression of his early childhood memories seemed a little too convenient for Persia’s plans for Yoji to be convinced that Omi hadn’t been "encouraged" into it. Omi hadn’t even been told that he was murdering on his uncle’s orders until he started to remember who he’d been and gone looking for the truth. Plus, some of Persia’s dying words to Aya sounded a lot like the bastard had known that his brother was going to snuff the Fujimiyas out but hadn’t tried to stop it until too late... then he’d eventually recruited the surviving son. Yoji couldn’t regret Weiß’s systematic execution of the Takatori family, not when every male member aside from Omi had been manipulative and treacherous at best and murderous at worst, nor could he entirely regret that Persia had been killed by the brother he’d commanded Weiß to kill.

Yoji wondered sometimes who the new, replacement Persia was....

While Yoji didn’t want Omi to be traumatized by his experiences, he wished the kid would be less blasé about all of it, everything. The kid could be downright creepy sometimes.

In the face of Omi’s annoying reasonability and greater knowledge, Yoji felt the need to shock him. "Did you know that Aya started cutting himself again after Weiß dissolved? He put it like this: ‘I’m glad you’re all doing things you enjoy. Construction work is dull. My sister is still in a coma. I’m cutting myself again, but not very often.’ The only reason he hadn’t killed himself was that he had his responsibility to his sister. Looks like Persia was right about being in Weiß discouraging him from mutilating himself."

Omi sat down hard. "He-- I didn’t know about that."

Omi looked so stricken that Yoji felt guilty. "None of us did."

"He told you about that?"

"I asked him when I saw his scars." Yoji remembered again how Aya had been silent on his return to Weiß until Omi had asked him about his sister. "Damn. Is it just a thing where you need to know the right question to ask him to get him to talk?"

"Just?"

"Hey, it’s more than we had before."

"He told you. I just knew about the other time because I hacked some records after I found out about his sister."

That gave Yoji a warm feeling. "Yeah." Then.... "Wait a minute. You don’t have insight into Aya’s personality because you’re more observant; you have it because you read his dossier!"

Omi looked slightly embarrassed. "I’m sure a lot of it’s out of date now!"

"Suuuure."

"Yoji, I didn’t tell anybody about what Aya used to do to himself because it wasn’t my secret to announce. It wouldn’t have been right. I wish I didn’t know."

"I get that. Hey, is that why you’ve been so pissy with me lately, because you think I’ll screw Aya up?"

"I wouldn’t put it like that...."

"Nah, it’s okay, kid. I’m trying really hard not to."

"You’re doing better than I expected."

"Gee, thanks."

Yoji knew that he couldn’t leave Aya alone for long, because Aya would no doubt rethink it all and decide that it had been a huge mistake. Aya needed to be pounced on and reminded of the benefits.

Yoji knew that wasn’t entirely selfless in this situation.

Unfortunately, life didn’t cooperate. That night’s mission had quickly gone south. Not only did their primary target escape, but they also got dropped into a sewer. Then the rest of Weiß overruled him on only taking his car home because at least his car was topless. Aya refused to let that kind of stink be closed up in his car. They’d return for the Porsche the next day.

"You stink," Yoji told them, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t go over well.

At least they all sat on trash bags in Yoji’s car. He didn’t want to think about the cleaning bills, though.

In any case, they were all tired and pissed off. When they reached the trailer and Yoji gave Aya a meaningful look, Aya answered, "The only orgasmic experiences I can handle tonight are a shower and sleep." Fatigue and anger added an additional kick to his haughty look.

"I wasn’t going to ask that."

Omi and Ken just smirked. Yoji had been paired with Ken on the mission tonight and found himself missing Aya’s still, quiet focus. During their infiltration of the building, he’d been able to just about feel Ken working himself up, and it had jangled his nerves. By contrast, Aya always had a comforting feeling of inevitability about him during these things. The mission would be done, the right person would die, and Weiß would come out alive and relatively unscathed, all because Aya’s iron will and cold rage said that those things would happen.

When Yoji finished his shower, he saw a clean and still damp Aya sitting on the floor of the living area doing post-mission care work on his katana. The urge to touch him just about overwhelmed Yoji, but the fatigue on his face and the unexpected bandage on his forearm put a halt to that thought. He knew Aya that well.

As he left the room, he heard a soft "thank you, Yoji."

The next day he suggested a quickie in the trailer during their working hours. After Aya finished giving him a look and lecture that should have put icicles on his dick for suggesting that they abandon their flower shop duties, Aya reminded him that it wouldn’t be a good idea to lock the trailer during business hours and that Ken would no doubt walk in on them again, since that seemed to be Ken’s role in their relationship. Yoji had a warm moment over Aya actually saying that they had a relationship, then remembered that he still wasn’t getting any.

On Mission Night 2: The Revenge, Yoji finally snapped the guard’s neck, since strangling him with the wire was taking too damned long and he kept kicking and struggling so hard. Ishikawa’s bodyguards had been putting up one hell of a fight.

Yoji wondered why the hell Japan had so many rich, politically-connected, perverted bastards who got their kicks by doing horrible things to young girls. At least Ishikawa took the more mundane route of making them sex slaves, unlike some of the other perverted bastards Weiß had taken down, such as the ones who used girls as lab rats, organ farms, or sources for doll parts.

Relatively mundane or not, Ishikawa would go down. He thought himself above the law, and so he was. But Weiß wasn’t law, they were justice.

Yoji untangled his victim and tossed him aside to run to the sounds of carnage ahead. A few minutes ago he’d seen the edge of a white coat turn the corner. The rattle and thunder of automatic machine gun fire made him run faster.

Yoji reached the room in time to watch Aya effortlessly dodge a few more bullets, then lop the gun hand off one of the bodyguards, then gut another one. Yoji used his wire as a whip to disarm a guard near the door, then grab and kill him. Aya sliced another two down, leaving him, Yoji, and their quarry alone in the blood-washed room.

Ishikawa looked like he was about to shit himself. "I-- I can make you--"

Aya leapt forward and plunged his katana through the man’s chest, so deeply that it went through almost to the hilt. Blood sprayed from Ishikawa’s lips as he choked out, "Who are you?"

Aya stood close enough that he could inhale his victim’s last breaths. "What does it matter? We’ll never meet again." He gave the katana a vicious upward twist that made Ishikawa cough out another gout of blood before he died. Aya tilted the sword downward to let the body slide off, then crouched down and cleaned it on the corpse’s jacket.

When Aya turned to face him, Yoji had no urge to ask anything of him, not when he had that look on his face. Killing was something Yoji did, but sometimes killing was what Aya was. He had no expression on his stony face, but his eyes glittered. Blood slowly ran down his cheek.

Could any amount of companionship and physical affection possibly fix this? It seemed obvious now that Aya couldn’t be the same person he’d been before his family had been so cruelly attacked, but could he become someone more human than the assassin was?

Would it cut down on his effectiveness as a killer? Would Kritiker step in on him if it did?

Did Aya even want to change?